Scientific American Supplement, No. 447, July 26, 1884

Chapter 5

Chapter 54,184 wordsPublic domain

It is easily seen that _suint_ forms a very important constituent of raw wool. Its proportion varies, of course, according to the nature of the pasture on which the sheep are fed, the climate, etc. Wool from Buenos Ayres, for example, contains much less than that analyzed by M. Chevreul; its amount is only 12 per cent. of the weight of the raw wool.

This _suint_ contains always about 52 per cent. of residue when ignited. The composition of this residue is:

Per cent. Carbonate of potash 86.78 Chloride of potassium 6.18 Sulphate of potash 2.83 Silica, alumina, etc. 4.21 ------ 100.00

In 1859, MM. Maumene and Rogelet patented the use of the water in which wool has been washed as a source of potash, and at present the extraction of potash from _suint_ is practiced in France on a large scale. The wool is washed in a systematic manner, in casks, with cold water, which runs out of the last cask with specific gravity 1.1. These washings are evaporated to dryness, and the residue is calcined in iron retorts, the gas evolved being used for illuminating purposes. The remaining cinder, consisting of a mixture of charcoal and carbonate of potash, is treated with water, whereby the latter is dissolved out. The residue left on evaporation of this water consists largely--almost entirely--of white carbonate of potash. At present there are works at Rheims, Elboeuf, Fourmier, and Vervier, which yield about 1,000 tons of carbonate of potash annually. Now, only 15,000 tons are made per annum by Leblanc's process. In 1868, 62,000 tons of wool were imported into Britain from Australia alone, and from this 7,000 to 8,000 tons of carbonate of potash might have been recovered, the value of which is £260,000. Yet it was all wasted! And this estimate does not include the fats of the _suint_, which are worth an even greater sum.

Now, it is evident that there is here a profitable source of economy. So far as I am aware, no work in this country saves its washings. The water all goes to pollute the nearest river.

The use of carbon disulphide has again been introduced, and it is to be hoped with better success, for methods have been devised whereby the wool is not injured by it, but is even rendered better than when scoured by the old process of washing with carbonate of soda and water, or by soap. The process is due to Mr. Thomas J. Mullings. Briefly described, it consists in exposing the wool, placed in a hydro-extractor, to the action of bisulphide of carbon; the machine is then made to revolve, and the excess of solvent is expelled, carrying with it the fatty matters; the solvent finds its way into a tank, from which it flows into a still, heated with steam; the carbon disulphide, which boils at a very low temperature, distills over, and is again ready for use, while the residue in the still consists of _suint_ washed from the wool. To remove the last trace of carbon disulphide from the wool in the hydro-extractor, cold water is admitted, and when the wool is soaked, the machine again revolves. On expulsion of the water, the wool is ready for washing in the ordinary machines, but with cold water only instead of hot soapsuds.

The distinguishing features of Mr. Mullings' process are, method by which loss of carbon disulphide is avoided, and the extraction of that solvent by means of cold water. The apparatus consists of a hydro-extractor or centrifugal machine of special construction, fitted with a bell-shaped cover, which can be lifted into and out of position by means of a weighted lever. The rim of this cover fits into an annular cup filled with water, which surrounds the top of the machine, forming an effective seal or joint. Upon the spindle of this machine is suspended, as in ordinary forms of the hydro-extractor, a perforated basket, and in this basket is placed the wool to be treated. The cover being closed, the carbon disulphide is admitted, and passing through the wool, the greasy matter is dissolved, and along with the solvent enters a reservoir. The machine is now set in motion, and the bulk of the solvent is drawn off. Cold water is then admitted, and the machine being again caused to rotate, the whole of the bisulphide is expelled. It is a curious fact that, although wool soaks remarkably easily with carbon disulphide, and at once becomes wet, cold water expels and replaces almost all that liquid. This operation takes about twenty minutes, and at one operation about 1½ cwt. of raw wool may be treated. The wool is then washed in suitable washing machines of the ordinary type, but with cold water, no soap or alkali being employed. The bisulphide of carbon, mixed with water, flows into a reservoir, provided with diaphragms to prevent splashing, and consequent loss by evaporation. From its gravity it sinks, forming a layer below the water; it is then separated and recovered by distillation, and may be used in subsequent operations.

The point in which this process differs from the old and unsuccessful ones formerly tried, is in the expulsion of the carbon disulphide. It was imagined that it was necessary to expel it by means of heat or steam. Now, when wool moist with bisulphide is heated, it invariably turns yellow. No heat must, therefore, be employed. As already remarked, the solvent is expelled with cold water.

The residue, after distillation of the carbon disulphide, is a grayish colored, very viscous oily matter, still retaining a little bisulphide, as may be perceived from the smell. It has not the composition of ordinary _suint_, inasmuch as it contains no carbonate of potash, and indeed little mineral matter of any kind. A sample which I analyzed lost in drying 36.2 per cent., the loss consisting of water and carbon disulphide. It gave a residue on ignition amounting only to 1.6 per cent. of the original fatty matter, or 2.5 per cent. of the dried fat. The oil appears, from some experiments which I made, to be a mixture of a glycerine salt and a cholesterine salt of fatty acids. It distills without much decomposition, giving a brown-yellow oil, which fluoresces strongly, and has a somewhat pungent smell. The molecular weight was determined by saponification with alcoholic potash, and subsequent titration of the excess of potash employed. This was found to equal 546.3. This would correspond to a mixture of 18.7 parts of stearate, palmitate, and oleate of glycerine, with 81.3 parts of the same acids combined with cholesteryl. But this is largely conjecture. The boiling point of the oil is high, much above the range of a mercurial thermometer, so that it is difficult to gain an insight into its composition.

An objection which has been raised to this process is that the use of such an easily inflammable substance as bisulphide of carbon is attended by great risk of fire. Were the bisulphide to be exposed to free air, there might be force in this objection; but there is no reason why it should ever be removed from under a layer of water. The apparatus, to make all safe, should not be under the same roof as the mill; and no open fire need be used in the building set apart for it. It is easy to rotate the centrifugal machine by a belt from the mill, but better by a small engine attached, the power for which can be conducted by a small steam-pipe, and the distillation of the bisulphide can also be conducted without danger by the use of steam, as its boiling point is a very low one. The question may be naturally asked, "How do the wool and fabric made from the wool scoured by this process, compare with that scoured in the usual way?" To answer this question I may refer to a test made by Messrs. Isaac Holden & Co., at their works at Roubaix. A sample of wool was divided into two portions, one of which was scoured by the usual method, and the other by the turbine or Mullings' process. Skilled workers then span each sample to as fine a thread as possible. Now the thinness to which a wool can be spun is evidence of its power of cohesion--in other words, its strength. The weight of 1,000 meters of the wool cleaned by the new process bore to that scoured by the old process the proportion of 1,015 to 1,085, showing that a considerably finer thread had been produced. And in total quantity, 67.53 kilos. of the former corresponded to 71.77 kilos. of the latter, showing a proportionately less waste. Such fine yarn had never before been obtained from similar wool. The yarn of the soap-washed wool could not be spun, for it could not withstand the strain; whereas, that scoured by the new process gave an admirable thread.

Another test to which it was subjected may be cited. It is the custom in France, before the wool is scoured, to put it through a sorting process, by which all the short lengths are weeded out. On a quantity exceeding 11,000 kilogrammes, half of which was scoured by the turbine process, and half by the ordinary process, the former in scouring lost in weight 2 per cent. less than the latter, although the short length extracted from the moiety thus treated weighed only 10 kilogrammes, while that taken from the other weighed over 150 kilogrammes. This saving, even with the unequal treatment, amounted in value to from 30 to 40 centimes per kilogramme.

In order that the importance of this application may be realized, I shall conclude with some figures:

The raw wool imported into England, in the year 1882, amounted to 1,487,169 bales, its total value being about £22,000,000. The cost of washing this wool by the old process, with carbonate of soda, amounts to about ½d. per lb. of the raw material. The cost for the total quantity of wool imported is at least £1,214,000. But it is customary to wash wool with soap, especially for the combing trade, and the cost is then about 1d. per lb. The cost of scouring by the new process is about £1 5s. per ton, or 0.13d. per lb. Taking the least favorable comparison, were all the imported wool (home-grown wool is here left out of the calculation, for want of sufficient returns) cleansed by the turbine process, the actual saving would be £1,214,500 _minus_ £315,700, or nearly £900,000 per annum.

It is thus seen that there is room for a very important economy in the treatment of wool. I have endeavored to show how economy may be practiced in scouring by the old process with soap, and how one dye stuff may be profitably recovered. It is to be hoped that means of extracting other dyes from the residue may soon follow. Unless the process were too costly to repay the trouble of extraction, it would be well worth practicing; for it would not merely be a solution of the problem of how to avoid waste, but would at the same time prevent the pollution of our streams, now, unfortunately, only too rarely pellucid; and were the last process to have as successful a future as I hope it may have, a very important saving of expense would result, and a large quantity of valuable fatty matter would no longer be thrown away.

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COAL AND ITS USES.

[Footnote: From a paper lately read before the Association of Foremen Engineers.]

By JAMES PYKE.

The records from which geologists draw their information can scarcely be compared to written or printed histories. There are, however, nations of whom no written account exists, who perhaps never had any written history, but about whom we are still able to gather from other sources a vast amount of information. Their houses, their monuments, their weapons, and their tools have survived, and these tell us the kind of life, the state of civilization, and the skill of the men to whom they belonged; from the contents of their tombs we learn what manner of men they were physically; sometimes a sudden change in the appointments and belongings of the folk indicates that tribes which had for a long time inhabited a district were driven out and replaced by a new race. Thus, then, from waifs and strays we can piece together a fairly connected account of the events of a period long antecedent to any written history.

The investigations of Dr. Schliemann on the supposed site of the city of Troy furnish a good example of this method of research. He found lying, one on the top of another, traces of the existence of five successive communities of men, differing in customs and social development, and was able to establish the fact that some of the cities had been destroyed by fire, and that later on other towns had grown up over the buried remains of the earlier settlements. The lowest layers were, of course, the oldest, and the position of each layer in the pile gives its date, not in years, but with regard to the layers above and below it.

Now, from time immemorial nature has been at work building up monuments and providing tombs which tell us what were the events going on, and what kind of inhabitants the earth had long before man made his appearance on its surface. The monuments are the rocks which compose the ground under our feet, and these, like many ancient monuments of human construction, are the tombs of the creatures that lived while they were being built.

Many facts testify that the earth's crust did not come into existence exactly as we find it now, but that its rocks have been built up by the slow action of natural agencies. These rocks constantly inclose the remains of plants and animals, and as it is evident that neither plant nor animal could have lived in the heart of a solid rock, this fact shows that the rock must in some way have gathered round the remains that are now found in it. Again, many of these remains, or fossils, belonged to animals that lived in water, the larger part, indeed, to marine creatures. This indicates that the rock was formed beneath the sea, and when we examine the way in which the constituents of the rock are arranged, we frequently find it to correspond exactly with the manner in which the sand and mud that rivers sweep down into the sea or lakes are spread out over the bottom of the water. In a pile of rocks formed in this way it is clear that the lowest is the oldest of all, and that any one stratum lying above is younger than the one beneath it. Further, the occurrence of rocks inland containing marine fossils far above the sea level shows that the sea and land have changed places. When, again, we find that the fossils of one group of rocks differ entirely from those of a group lying above them, we learn that one race of creatures died out and was supplanted by a new assemblage of animal forms.

These general remarks will, I trust, give some notion of the evidence which is available for reconstructing the history of those remote periods with which geology deals, and of the kind of reasoning which the geologist employs for interpreting the records that are submitted to him.

We will now briefly examine, by aid of these methods, the group of rocks in which coal occurs in Great Britain, and see how far we can read the story they have to tell.

The group with which we have to deal is called the carboniferous or coal bearing system, and it includes four classes of rocks, viz.: 1, sandstone; 2, shale or bind; 3, limestone; 4, coal and underclay.

We will take the sandstones and shales first. They are grains of sand known to mineralogists as quartz, and consisting of a substance called silica by chemists. The grains of sand are bound together by a cement which in some few cases is identical in composition with themselves, and consists of pure silica, but usually is a mixture of sandy, clayey, and other substances. The shales are made up very largely of clay, mixed, however, usually with sand and other substances, forming a conglomerate. Both sandstones and shales are divided into layers or beds, and are said to be stratified. It is this stratified or bedded structure that gives us the first clew to the way in which these rocks were formed. Rivers are constantly carrying down sand and mud into the sea or lakes, and when their flow is slackened on entering the still water the materials they bring down with them sink and are spread out in layers over the bottom. The structure of the sandstones and shales shows that they were formed in this way; they often inclose the remains of plants that have been carried down from land, and occasionally of animals that lived in the water where they were deposited.

The next we have to consider is limestone, which is mainly made up of a substance known to chemists as calcium carbonate, or carbonate of lime.

In some districts, especially in volcanic countries, springs occur very highly charged with carbonate of lime. The warm springs of Matlock are a case in point; they are probably the last vestige of volcanic action which was in operation in that neighborhood during carboniferous times. Limestone is chiefly formed by the agency of small marine creatures of low organization. By the aid of these animals the carbonate of lime is brought back to a solid form; at their death their hard parts fall to the bottom and accumulate in a mass of pure limestone, which afterward becomes solidified into limestone rock.

The information that limestone gives us is this:

When we find, as is often the case, a mass of limestone hundreds of feet thick, and composed of little else but carbonate of lime, we know that the spot where it occurs was, at the time it was formed, far out at sea, covered by the clear water of mid ocean; and when we find that this limestone grows in certain directions earthy and impure, and that layers of shale and sandstone, thin at first, but gradually thickening out in a wedge-shape form, come in between its beds, we know that in those directions we are traveling toward the shore lines of that sea whence the water was receiving from time to time supplies of muddy and sandy sediment.

The next class of rocks are the clays that are found beneath every bed of coal, and which are known as _underclays_, or _warrant_, or _spavins_. They vary very much in mineral composition. Sometimes they are soft clay; sometimes clay mixed with a certain portion of sand; and sometimes they contain such a large proportion of silicious matters that they become hard, flinty rock, which many of you know under the name of _gannister_. But all underclays agree in two points: they are all unstratified. They differ totally from the shales and sandstones in this respect, and instead of splitting up readily into thin flakes, they break up into irregular lumpy masses. And they all contain a very peculiar vegetable fossil called _Stigmaria_.

This strange fossil was for a long time a sore puzzle to fossil botanists, and after much discussion the question was fairly solved by Mr. Binney by the discovery of a tree embedded in the coal measures, and standing erect just as it grew, with its roots spread out into the stratum on which it stood. These roots were Stigmaria, and the stuff into which they penetrated was an underclay. Sir Charles Lyell mentions an individual sigillaria 72 feet in length found at Newcastle, and a specimen taken from the Jarrow coal mine was more than 40 feet in length and 13 feet in diameter near the base. It is not often these trees are found erect, because the action of water, combined with natural decay, has generally thrown them down. They are, however, found in very large numbers in the roof of the coal, evidently having been tossed over, and lying there flat and squeezed thin by the pressure of the measures that lie above them.

Lastly, we come to coal itself--a rock which constitutes a small portion of the whole bulk of the carboniferous deposits, but which may be fairly looked upon as the most important member of that group, both on account of its intrinsic value and also from the interest that attaches to its history. That coal is little else but mineralized vegetable matter is a point on which there has for a long time been but small doubt. The more minute investigations of recent years have not only placed this completely beyond question, but have also enabled us to say what the plants were which contributed to the formation of coal, and in some cases even to decide what portions of those plants enter into its composition. It is a thing so universally admitted on all hands, that I shall take it for granted you are all perfectly convinced that coal has been nothing in the world but a great mass of vegetable matter. The only question is: How were these great masses of vegetable matter brought together? And you must realize that they were very large masses indeed. Just to take one instance. The Yorkshire and Derbyshire coal field is somewhere about 700 to 800 square miles in area, and Lancashire about 200. Well, in both these coal fields you have a great number of beds of coal that spread over the whole of them with tolerable regularity and thickness, and very often with scarcely any break whatever. And this is only a very small portion of what must have been the original sheet of coal, so that you see we have to account for a mass of vegetable matter perfectly free from any admixture of sand, mud, or dirt, and laid down with tolerably uniform thickness over many hundreds of square miles.

At one time it was supposed that coal was formed out of dead trees and plants which were swept down by rivers into the sea, just in the same way as shales and sandstones were formed out of mud and sand so swept down. The fatal objection to this theory, however, is that rivers would not bring down dead wood alone, but they would bring down sand and mud, and other matters, and that in the bottom of the sea the dead wood would be mixed with these matters, and instead of getting a perfectly unmixed mass of vegetable matter, we should get a mixture of dead plants, sand, mud, and other things, which would give rise to something like coal, but something very different, as any one who tries to burn such coal will soon find out, from really good, pure house coal. So that this theory, which is generally known as the "drift" theory, was totally inadequate to account for the facts as we know them.

The other theory was that coal was formed out of plants and trees that grew on the spot where we now find coal itself. On this supposition it is easy to account for the absence of foreign admixtures of sand, mud, and clay in the coal; and we can also understand very much better than by the aid of the drift theory how the coal had accumulated with such wonderful uniformity of thickness over such very large areas. This theory was for some time but poorly received; but after the discovery of Sir William Logan, that every bed of coal had a bed of underclay beneath, and the discovery of Mr. Binney, that these underclays were true soils on which plants had undoubtedly grown, there was no doubt whatever that this was the real and true explanation of the matter.

I dare say many of you have had occasion to walk across peat bogs. The peat bog is a great mass of vegetable matter, which is every year growing thicker and thicker; and underneath it there is almost always a bed of thin clay, in look very much like the underclays, and this thin clay is penetrated by the rootlets of the moss forming the peat, exactly the same way as the underclays of the coal measures are penetrated by the stigmaria and its rootlets. But you must not suppose that the plants out of which coal was formed were exactly the same low type of moss which forms our present peat bogs. However, it is pretty certain that they were for the most part of a loose, succulent texture, and that they grew very rapidly indeed.