An Autobiography [86]
workshop. The building was new at hand--in Dale Street, Piccadilly. It had been used as a cotton mill, but was abandoned by the owner in favour of more suitable and extensive premises. It was now let out in flats for manufacturing purposes. Power was supplied to each flat from a shaft connected with a large mill up the street, the owner of which had power to spare. The flat shown to me was 130 feet long by 27 feet wide, and the rent was only #50 a year. I thought the premises very suitable, but I took a night to sleep over it. I thanked Mr. Kennedy very much for his kindness, and for the trouble which he had taken on behalf of an unknown stranger.
On this memorable day I had another introduction, through the kindness of Mr. Chippendale, which proved of great service to me. It was to the Messrs. Grant, the famous "Brothers Cheeryble" of Dickens. I was taken to their counting-house in Cannon Street, where I was introduced to Daniel Grant. Although business was at its full height, he gave me a cordial reception. But, to save time, he invited me to come after the Exchange was over and take "tiffin" with him at his hospitable mansion in Mosely Street.
There, he said, I should meet some of the most enterprising men in Lancashire. I was most happy, of course, to avail myself of his invitation. I went thither accordingly, and the first thing that Daniel did was to present me in the most cordial manner to "his noble brother William," as he always affectionately called him. William was the head of the firm, and he, too, gave me a warm and hearty welcome. He asked me to sit beside him at the head of the table.
During dinner--for indeed it was such, being the survival of the old-fashioned one o'clock dinner of a departing age--William entered into conversation with me. He took occasion to inquire into the object of my visit to Manchester. I told him, as briefly as I could, that I intended to begin the business of a mechanical engineer on a very moderate scale, and that I had been looking out for premises wherein to commence operations. He seemed interested, and asked more questions. I related to him my little history, and told him of my desires, hopes, and aspirations. What was my age? "Twenty-six." "That is a very young age at which to begin business on your own account" "Yes; but I have plenty of work in me, and I am very economical." Then he pressed his questions home. "But what is your capital?" I told him that my capital in cash was #63. "What!" he said, "that will do very little for you when Saturday nights come round." "That's true," I answered; "but as there will be only myself and Archy Torry to provide for, I think I can manage to get along very well until profitable work comes in."
He whispered to me, "Keep your heart up!" With such views, he said, I was sure to do well. And if, he added, on any Saturday night I wanted money to pay wages or other expenses, I would find a credit for #500 at 3 per cent at his office in Cannon Street, "and no security." These were his very words. What could have been more generous? I could only whisper my earnest thanks for his warm-hearted kindness. He gave me a kindly squeeze of the hand in return, which set me in a glow of gladness. He also gave me a sort of wink that I shall never forget--a most knowing wink. In looking at me he seemed to turn his eye round and brought his eyebrows down upon it in a sudden and extraordinary manner. I thought it was a mere confirmation of his kind advice to "keep my heart up!" It was not until two years after that I found, from a mutual friend, that the eye in question was made of glass! Sometimes the glass eye got slightly out of its place, and Mr. Grant had to force it in again by this odd contortion of his eyebrows, which I had translated into all manner of kind intentions. As soon as the party broke up I went to Wren and Bennett, the agents for the flat of the old mill which I had seen in Dale Street. I inspected it again, and found that it was in all respects suitable for my purpose. I may mention in passing that
On this memorable day I had another introduction, through the kindness of Mr. Chippendale, which proved of great service to me. It was to the Messrs. Grant, the famous "Brothers Cheeryble" of Dickens. I was taken to their counting-house in Cannon Street, where I was introduced to Daniel Grant. Although business was at its full height, he gave me a cordial reception. But, to save time, he invited me to come after the Exchange was over and take "tiffin" with him at his hospitable mansion in Mosely Street.
There, he said, I should meet some of the most enterprising men in Lancashire. I was most happy, of course, to avail myself of his invitation. I went thither accordingly, and the first thing that Daniel did was to present me in the most cordial manner to "his noble brother William," as he always affectionately called him. William was the head of the firm, and he, too, gave me a warm and hearty welcome. He asked me to sit beside him at the head of the table.
During dinner--for indeed it was such, being the survival of the old-fashioned one o'clock dinner of a departing age--William entered into conversation with me. He took occasion to inquire into the object of my visit to Manchester. I told him, as briefly as I could, that I intended to begin the business of a mechanical engineer on a very moderate scale, and that I had been looking out for premises wherein to commence operations. He seemed interested, and asked more questions. I related to him my little history, and told him of my desires, hopes, and aspirations. What was my age? "Twenty-six." "That is a very young age at which to begin business on your own account" "Yes; but I have plenty of work in me, and I am very economical." Then he pressed his questions home. "But what is your capital?" I told him that my capital in cash was #63. "What!" he said, "that will do very little for you when Saturday nights come round." "That's true," I answered; "but as there will be only myself and Archy Torry to provide for, I think I can manage to get along very well until profitable work comes in."
He whispered to me, "Keep your heart up!" With such views, he said, I was sure to do well. And if, he added, on any Saturday night I wanted money to pay wages or other expenses, I would find a credit for #500 at 3 per cent at his office in Cannon Street, "and no security." These were his very words. What could have been more generous? I could only whisper my earnest thanks for his warm-hearted kindness. He gave me a kindly squeeze of the hand in return, which set me in a glow of gladness. He also gave me a sort of wink that I shall never forget--a most knowing wink. In looking at me he seemed to turn his eye round and brought his eyebrows down upon it in a sudden and extraordinary manner. I thought it was a mere confirmation of his kind advice to "keep my heart up!" It was not until two years after that I found, from a mutual friend, that the eye in question was made of glass! Sometimes the glass eye got slightly out of its place, and Mr. Grant had to force it in again by this odd contortion of his eyebrows, which I had translated into all manner of kind intentions. As soon as the party broke up I went to Wren and Bennett, the agents for the flat of the old mill which I had seen in Dale Street. I inspected it again, and found that it was in all respects suitable for my purpose. I may mention in passing that