The houses in which are carried on these
different processes of danger, are long low buildings,
fireproof, and constructed with one end
entirely open and simply glazed as a window, so
that, in the event of an explosion, the line of
direction would not be towards the adjoining
powder-sheds. There is also between each of the
buildings, a massive buttress, or, as it is properly
called, a "traverse," of solid brickwork of immense
thickness, which could act as a check
on any spread of explosion. One building
of the old kind still remains standing by itself.
It is as remarkable for its extreme lightness of
construction as the modern buildings are for
their extreme solidity. It used to be considered
the safest plan to make such workshops
as were used for purposes where explosion might
be apprehended, so slight, that, in the event of
an accident, they would fly to pieces without
resistance; a plan in exact opposition to the
modem system, and certainly infinitely less
rational. In this old edifice the rockets are still
driven with the old machine called a "monkey,"
a leaden weight raised by pulleys and suffered
to drop at regular intervals upon the
composition which is to be driven into the
rocket-tubes.

In this department, too, the fuses are filled
with that composition which is to burn slowly
on till the moment when, reaching the particular
hole of communication fixed upon, it touches the
powder in the shell and the bursting takes place.
The accuracy of this is, of course, of immense importance,
and is attained in wonderful perfection.
Here also the fireworks required for signals are
prepared, and every necessary combustible process
is carried on. The covered gondola-like boats
mentioned above, are used to convey all these
inflammable wares, when finished and packed, to
the magazines where they are kept: which are
certain old hulks placed far out in the river, and
beyond the reach of accident.

It is gratifying to be able to add, that owing
to all these admirable precautions, no explosion
has taken place in the whole of this department,
nor does there seem any reason to apprehend
that any accident will occur while so much care
and watchfulness continue to be observed
Everything is done here with the view of diminishing
the risk, and even the plantations and
shrubs, which have been noticed above, as rendering
this part of the Arsenal so unlike the
others, have been planted with the view of
keeping sand, dust, or grit of any kind, from
being blown towards the workshops. There is
plenty of grass, too, in the enclosed spaces among
the embankments on which the buildings stand
and here a curious combination of peace and war
caught the attention of your Eye-witness; for
in the midst of all this danger and warlike preparation,
the grass in these little meadows had
grown to such luxuriance that some men were
making hay.

It was somewhat of a surprise to your Eye-witness
when, on requesting that he might be
allowed to follow the course of a gun's creation
from first to last, he was taken into a large
bare-looking brick building, which apparently contained
nothing but certain conical heaps of dirt
piled up upon the floor. It was still more of a
surprise to him, however, when the superintendent
of the place, approaching one of these heaps
and taking up some of the powder and crumbling
it between his finger and thumb, said, "This is
what we begin with."

"Do you mean to tell me," said your Eye-witness,
"that cannons are made of that stuff?"

"They could not be made without it," said
the superintendant. And with that he proceeded
to develop the whole process from beginning
to end. The story was told intelligently
and well, and the reader shall have the benefit
of it.

The heaps of dirt which had caught the attenion
of the Eye-witness, and which it had surprised
him so much to hear were indispensable in
the construction of the mighty guns which he
had seen placed about the Arsenal—these heaps
of dirt are composed of a mixture of sand and
a sort of fine loam, with the powdered dust of
coke.

A large mass of iron tubing, of much greater
dimensions than the largest cannon that was ever
seen, is the next thing required. It looks so like
the iron drains which one sometimes sees placed
by the side of the road when repairs are going
on in the sewerage, that for the sake of explicitness
we will take leave to call this tube a
"drain" throughout this description of the
gun-casting operations. Inside this drain, then, is
placed a model the exact size and shape of
the gun required, and the space between this
and the inside of the drain—which is considerable—
is completely filled with the composition
of sand, loam, and coke-dust just described,
forced in in a moistened state. It is
needless to say that this composition takes the
exact shape of the model which it surrounds,
even in the minutest degree. If, however,
the model were now withdrawn, the mould
which it left, being moist, would tumble to
pieces. So the next thing to be done, is, to put
the whole affair into a huge oven and there
bake it till it is perfectly firm and hard. The
model is then taken out with safety, and a complete
impression of a cannon is left in the inside
of the drain-resembling tube, as perfect as the
print of the savage footmark on the sand of Crusoe's
desert island. The next thing to do, is, to
convey the whole of this bulk to the pits in
which the guns are cast. This is done by
means of travelling cranes which run upon rails
high above one's head, and then the drain, with
the impression of the cannon in hardened loam
in its inside, is placed in a perpendicular position
in the pit, with the breech end of the
future gun downwards, and the mouth, or what
is to be the mouth, upwards. The process is
now simple enough. Close to the opening of
the pit, is a mighty furnace, and from it the
iron of which the gun is to be made, reduced to
a liquid by the agency of heat, pours into a
receptacle which the workmen call a "sow"