Kinneil House, to which Watt hastened to pay his visit of congratulation to Dr. Roebuck, is an old-fashioned building, somewhat resembling an old French château. It was a former country-seat of the Dukes of Hamilton, and is finely situated on the shores of the Frith of Forth. The mansion is rich in classical associations, having been inhabited, since Roebuck’s time, by Dugald Stewart, who wrote in it his ‘Philosophy of the Human Mind.’[82] There he was visited by Wilkie, the painter, when in search of subjects for his pictures; and Dugald Stewart found for him, in an old farmhouse in the neighbourhood, the cradle-chimney introduced in the “Penny Wedding.” But none of these names can stand by the side of that of Watt; and the first thought at Kinneil, of every one who is familiar with his history, would be of the memorable day when he rode over in exultation to wish Dr. Roebuck joy of the success of the steam-engine. His note of triumph was, however, premature. He had yet to suffer many sickening delays and bitter disappointments; for, though he had contrived to get his model executed with fair precision, the skill was still wanting to manufacture the parts of their full size with the requisite unity; and his present elation was consequently doomed to be succeeded by repeated discomfiture.
[82] When we visited the place many years ago, Miss Stewart’s spinnet still stood in the drawing-room, but there was not a tone left in it. Like many other old houses, Kinneil has the reputation of being haunted. The ghost is that of a “Lady Lilburne,” wife of the Parliamentary General, who is said to have thrown herself out of one of the windows during her husband’s absence.
The model went so well, however, that it was determined at once to take out a patent for the engine. The first step was to secure its provisional protection, and with that object Watt went to Berwick-upon-Tweed, and made a declaration before a Master in Chancery of the nature of the invention. In August, 1768, we find him in London on the business of the patent. He became utterly wearied with the delays interposed by sluggish officialism, and disgusted with the heavy fees which he was required to pay in order to protect his invention. He wrote home to his wife at Glasgow in a very desponding mood. Knowing her husband’s diffidence and modesty, but having the fullest confidence in his genius, she replied, “I beg that you will not make yourself uneasy, though things should not succeed to your wish. If it [the condensing engine] will not do, _something else will; never despair_.” Watt must have felt cheered by these brave words of his noble helpmate, and encouraged to go onward cheerfully in hope.