At Wolverton the work is conducted under the supreme
command of the Chief Hammerman, a huge-limbed, jolly, good-tempered Vulcan,
with half a dozen boy assistants.

The steam-hammer, be it known, is the application of steam to a piston under
complete regulation, so that the piston, armed with a hammer, regularly,
steadily, perpendicularly descends as desired, either with the force of a
hundred tons or with a gentle tap, just sufficient to drive home a tin tack
and no more. At a word it stops midway in stroke, and at a word again it
descends with a deadly thump. On our visit, an attempt was being made to
execute in wrought, what had hitherto always been made in cast iron. Success
would effect a great saving in weight. The doors of the furnace were drawn
back, and a white glow, unbearable as the noon-day sun, was made visible,
long hooked iron poles were thrust in to fish for the prize, and presently a
great round mass of metal was poked out to the door of the fiery furnace--a
huge roll of glowing iron, larger than it was possible for any one or two men
to lift, even had it been cold. By ingenious contrivances it was slipped out
upon a small iron truck, dragged to the anvil of the steam-hammer, and under
the direction of Vulcan, not without his main strength, lodged upon the
block.

During the difficult operation of moving the white-red round ball, it was
beautiful to see the rapid disciplined intelligence by which the hammerman,
with word or sign, regulated the movements of his young assistants, each
armed with an iron lever.

At length the word was given, and thump, thump, like an earthquake the steam-
hammer descended, rapidly reducing the red-hot Dutch cheese shape to the
flatter proportions of a mighty Double Gloucester, all the while the great
smith was turning and twisting it about so that each part should receive its
due share of hammering, and that the desired shape should be rapidly
attained, sometimes with one hand, sometimes with the other, he interposed a
flat poker between the red mass and the hammer, sharing a vibration that was
powerful enough to dislocate the shoulder of any lesser man. "Hold," he
cried: the elephant-like machine stopped. He took and hauled the great ball
into a new position. "Go on," he shouted: the elephant machine went on, and
again the red sparks flew as though a thousand Homeric blacksmiths had been
striking in unison, until it was time again to thrust the half-welded cheese