CECIL RHODES’ DREAM--FROM THE CAPE TO CAIRO
I.--_Northwards from Cape Town_
Few phrases have become so familiar to the ear as from the “Cape to
Cairo.” It is a phrase that has made history, though perhaps not so
rapidly as its creator anticipated. When Cecil Rhodes first cast
his eyes from north to south, and conceived the idea of binding the
two extreme points of the African continent together, there is no
indication that he experienced great difficulty in finding a title for
his undertaking. There was Cairo in the north, and Cape Town in the
south. He aspired to join the two by rail. Consequently, from the “Cape
to Cairo” was obvious. Probably the alliteration caught his fancy, and
conveyed his complete thought so forcibly in three words, and in a
manner that could not fail to impress the public, that it inadvertently
flew through his mind.
When the materialisation of this vision commenced, the general
knowledge of the interior of the continent had not been widened very
appreciably since the travels of Livingstone and Stanley. It was “Dark”
in the truest sense of the word, and conquest either by the mysteries
of peace or the arts of war was necessary before the steel rail could
be driven either northward or southward. However, it was determined
to carry the idea to fulfilment--the question of the penetration of
the hostile country could be taken in hand when the railway was within
measurable distance of its borders so far as Rhodes was concerned,
while in the north the English Government had decided to settle terms
with the Mahdi.
There was one benefit accruing from the empire-builder’s dream--he gave
the engineers of South Africa elbow-room in which to display their
ability within certain limits. It might be said that he inaugurated a
new railway-construction policy so far as South Africa was concerned.
The railway-builders had an extensive territory to cover, and they
appeared to cherish the belief that the best means by which this
conquest could be achieved was upon the most expensive lines possible.
Thus, for instance, the railway network in Natal, the Transvaal and
Orange Free State cost about £15,000, or $75,000, per mile, and those
of Cape Colony about £10,000, or $50,000, per mile--sums out of all
proportion to the railway needs of the time, and which served to commit
the countries to a heavy capital outlay and interest charges. When
Cecil Rhodes outlined his project he set himself to a limit of about
£5,000, or $25,000, per mile.
Such a line was a pioneer road in the fullest sense of the word, but
it would suffice to meet the demands of the country for many years
to come, and could be improved as circumstances demanded. The time
will come, doubtless, when a standard-gauge road from the waters of
the Mediterranean to the southern end of the continent will become
imperative, but a few decades will have to pass before the line of 3
feet 6 inches gauge becomes inadequate.
The Cape to Cairo is remarkable in many respects: in fact, it might be
described as a string of record-breaking feats in railway engineering.
In the first place it was the first trans-continental road ever to be
driven longitudinally through a continent--the coast to coast lines in
other parts of the world cut across the continent from east to west.
When completed it will be the longest continuous trunk iron road ever
built. In its length are comprised both the highest and longest bridges
in Africa, in its realisation the highest speed in track-laying has
been recorded, and it has been driven steadily forward under conditions
such as never have attended the realisation of any comparative
project--war, plague and famine.
When the scheme was commenced the railways of the southern colony
had penetrated 647 miles up-country from Cape Town to the diamond
mines at Kimberley. Consequently, Diamondopolis was selected as the
starting-point for the northward advance, through the hinterland now
known as Rhodesia. The first rail out of Kimberley was laid in 1889,
and by October, 1894, it had gained Mafeking, 223 miles beyond.
While this part of the work was under way the colonisation of
Mashonaland had proceeded, and had progressed so favourably that
the railway’s advance became an urgent necessity, especially as the
Matabele under Lobengula were giving signs of trouble, and it was
essential that the latter should be subdued. So in 1896 the dull, grey
snake resumed its tortuous crawl to the north. Further trouble was
experienced at this juncture, and retarded operations to a material
degree. The deadly rinderpest broke out, and swept off the settlers’
cattle like flies. Transport was paralysed, and the engineers were
called upon to perform a superhuman task to pour supplies and material
forward. As animals were unavailable, traction engines had to be
brought up-country to ply between the point where the locomotive
stopped and the construction camps strung out ahead.
However, Rhodes decided that the rails must reach Buluwayo before
the end of 1897. Seeing that 492 miles divided the railhead from the
latter point, this was no mean order; but Messrs. Pauling & Co., the
contractors, promised that his wishes should be fulfilled. Large forces
of natives were whipped up, and by superhuman effort the apparently
impossible was achieved, the 492 miles of metals being laid in 500
working days.
As might be supposed from the low cost of the line (£4,500 or $22,500,
per mile), the engineering work was not of an elaborate character.
Rapidity of construction, combined with low cost, were the two
governing considerations that had to be borne in mind, for the sooner
railway transportation was provided, the earlier settlement would take
place. The terms governing construction demanded that the line should
be of such a character as “would be capable of effectually conveying
traffic at a speed of twelve miles an hour on completion, and that
grades and curves were not to be sharper and heavier than generally
prevailed upon a line of this gauge.” Ballasting was only to be used on
such portions of the line as was necessary to ensure the safe running
of the trains during the rainy season.
In laying the road very little regard was paid to formation, and
wherever the surface of the ground was even it was followed, the steel
sleepers being packed with the minimum of ballast to give a moderately
smooth running top. The shallower streams and rivers were not bridged,
but the railway was carried across over a ford. If the water rose above
the track a few inches, a thrilling spectacle was offered when a train
crossed. It would creep carefully down the bank and crash full tilt
into the water, sending up a column of spray which entirely obliterated
the front of the engine from view. Later, the line was overhauled and
brought into conformity with modern requirements, bridges of steel
being introduced to span all obstructions of this character. Timber was
impossible, owing to the ravages of white ants, though creosoted wood
was found to offer a substitute for the metal for a short period, and
was adopted sparingly.
Buluwayo lies at an altitude of 4,400 feet, and from this point the
line falls steadily until it gains the Gwaai River, 1,200 feet lower.
Crossing this waterway, the line makes a straight cut across the flat,
sandy and wooded country for 71 miles as the crow flies, to enter the
Wankie coalfield.
In this district the surface run could not be continued, and
consequently heavy cuttings and embankments had to be carried out over
a distance of 59 miles.
Beyond the Wankie coal territory, and 282 miles north of Buluwayo, the
line ran up against the first serious physical difficulty, but one
of such proportions as to make amends on the part of Nature for the
easiness of the grading hitherto. This was the Victoria Falls on the
Zambesi River, and the location of the line compelled a crossing of
this magnificent waterway just below the cataract, where the water,
after tumbling over the ledge, is forced through a deep, narrow gorge
400 feet in depth.
The situation demanded the consummation of some monumental piece of
work. The Niagara gorge had been bridged, but the task of spanning that
chasm was mere child’s play in comparison with that confronting the
engineers below the Victoria Falls. The cliffs are sheer practically,
for the canyon through which the water rushes for some 20 miles is but
a fissure in the earth’s crust.
The surveys, which were carried out with great difficulty, showed that
the break would have to be bridged in a single span about 500 feet in
length from brink to brink, with the rails over 420 feet above low
water. For purposes of comparison, it may be mentioned that, although
the structure of the same type thrown across the Niagara gorge to carry
the Grand Trunk railway from Canadian to American soil has a main
span 50 feet wider, while the bridge itself is almost twice as long,
the rails are laid only a little more than half the height above the
water--226, as compared with 420 feet.
One early difficulty was the establishment of communication with the
opposite bank, to avoid a long detour of about ten miles in order to
cross the river. First, in order to bring the camps perched on each
cliff closer together, a telephone wire was thrown across the ravine.
This frail connection was completed in an ingenious manner. A thin
string was tied to the stick of a rocket which was fired across the
gorge. The opposite party secured the stick and end of the stout twine,
and by its means hauled across a thicker length of string, which in
turn was followed by one still stouter, with which the telephone wire
was hauled across. In this way the opposite camps were brought as
closely into touch with one another as if they were side by side on the
same bank. Previously, attempts had been made to fly a string across by
means of a kite, but the upward rush of eddying air from the vortex of
the water caused the kite to become the sport of the wind and to play
sorry pranks, without gaining the opposite bank. The complete success
of the rocket caused a similar cycle of operations to be repeated, only
in this case, instead of hauling a telephone wire across the gorge, a
marked wire was handled, the idea being to measure accurately the width
of the gap, a spring balance being introduced at one end to compute the
extent of the “sag” of the wire for the purposes of calculations.
The result of these investigations served to countercheck the surveys,
which were found to be strikingly correct, and the design of the bridge
was taken in hand immediately by Mr. G. A. Hobson.
Actual construction was commenced without delay, the task being
undertaken by the Cleveland Engineering & Bridge Building Company
of Darlington, who, by the successful completion of this task, once
more emphasised the predominance of the British bridge-building
engineer. The main span is a graceful curve of steel springing from the
cliff-face on either side, the latter being excavated for the purpose
of securing the foundations. As construction was possible only on the
cantilever principle from either side, facilities had to be provided
for the transportation of material as it was brought up by the railway,
from the south to the opposite cliff, and for this purpose an overhead
cableway was slung across the gorge. This vehicle of transport was
employed not only for the building of the bridge, but also for the
conveyance of other necessities for the railway, as the latter was
pushed ahead from the north bank while the bridge was being erected.
Workmen were also slung across the gorge by this means in a little
cage, and occasionally visitors who were anxious to experience a new
sensation made the trip at a cost of 10_s._, or $2.50 per head.
[Illustration:
_Photo by courtesy of Cleveland Engineering & Bridge-Building
Co., Darlington_]
THE GREATEST BRIDGE IN THE WORLD
The steel link springing in a single span of 500 feet from one cliff
to the other over the Zambesi River just below the Victoria Falls. The
trains pass across the gorge 420 feet above low water. Observe the net
which was suspended below to catch falling tools and workmen.]
One feature of the undertaking was the extreme care taken to protect
the workmen from certain death in the river below if they slipped from
their precarious perches in mid-air. A heavy, strong net was slung
across the chasm beneath the actual working point to catch “boys and
tools should they inadvertently drop.” The two ribs of steel were
pushed outwards from either bank, and finally met in the centre, where
the final bolts, securing first the two sections of the bottom members
together, were slipped in without any untoward incident. At the point
where the maze of steel springs from the cliff-face the bridge measures
105 feet from the bottom to the top member, while at the crown of the
arch the depth is 15 feet. The width at the rail-level is 30 feet,
while the bottom curved steel ribs, at the point where they are secured
to the rock, are about 54 feet apart.
[Illustration: SETTING UP THE WORLD’S RAILWAY BUILDING RECORD IN AFRICA
Natives laying 5¾ miles of track in 10 hours, on the Cape to Cairo
Railway.]
Notwithstanding the difficulties, attending the erection of such a
massive bridge upon such a site, construction was carried out so
rapidly that the first train was enabled to cross the structure within
about eighteen months of work being commenced. The celerity with which
this task was completed was striking, bearing in mind that native
labour was employed for the most part, under the supervision of English
foremen and engineers.
At the time it was built it ranked as the loftiest bridge in the
world, but it has been deposed since from that premier position by the
wonderful Fades viaduct which spans the Sioule River in the French
province of Puy de Dôme, where the train crosses the water at a height
of 434½ feet.
By the time the Victoria bridge was able to permit trains to pass from
bank to bank, the end of steel had been hurried towards Kalomo, the
capital of North-Western Rhodesia, 1,733 miles from Cape Town. On this
section another remarkable record was established. The engineer, Sir
Charles Metcalfe, Bart., was in the field on one of his periodical
visits, and was accompanied by an interested French engineer, who had
built railways in French West Africa. The latter was greatly interested
in the progress of the Cape to Cairo line, but observing the methods of
the native workmen, ventured to ask how many miles of track could be
laid per day.
“Well, what do you think we can lay?” asked Sir Charles Metcalfe.
“Oh, I don’t think you can lay more than half-a-mile. That seems to me
a fair estimate,” remarked the French railway-builder.
The English engineer had a brief conversation with his lieutenant in
charge of the rail-laying operations, and the latter in a few brief
words galvanised the whole of the crew into electric movement. In
twenty minutes the track had advanced a quarter of a mile before the
astonished French engineer’s eyes. He scarcely could credit what he had
seen, and left the spot with a high regard for the English engineer’s
organisation and methods of handling the natives to be able to wrest
such a spurt at a moment’s notice.
This incident impressed Sir Charles Metcalfe, and, after a chat with
the English overseers, foremen and engineers surveying the placing of
the 33-feet lengths of steel upon the ground, it was decided to make an
experiment just to see what could be accomplished under an emergency
with native labour. The black men were marshalled up for a full day’s
work, and were urged to let themselves go, the desire of establishing a
record being communicated to the more enterprising spirits. The natives
love a contest, and they girdled into the work with astonishing zest.
They did not seem to tire, and they spurned the heat. The result was
that when the ten hours’ labour was completed for the day the steel had
crept forward no less that 5¾ miles--a world’s record. Yet everything
proceeded so smoothly that it appeared, from the stranger’s point of
view, as if work were being carried out at the normal rate of a mile a
day.
This result, with native labour, was remarkable. The engineers in
charge of the wonderful track-layer used in America point to the speed
with which the metals can be laid with its aid. Yet it comes somewhat
as a shock to their pride to learn that their best performances of 3 to
4½ miles a day can be exceeded by unskilled black men, with no tools
whatever.
From Kalomo the engineers pushed north-eastwards to Broken Hill,
280 miles beyond. In this stretch, however, another obstacle had to
be overcome. This was the Kafue River, which is the most important
tributary to the Zambesi River, and indeed forms one leg of this great
waterway. The great width of the Kafue River, 1,300 feet, called for a
lengthy bridge. Although the waters are shallow during the dry season,
the average depth being 9 feet, in the wet season, however, the river
rises to 17 feet or so. It is a comparatively sluggish waterway, the
speed of the current being about 3 miles an hour.
Mr. G. A. Hobson was responsible for the design of this bridge also,
and he decided that a light structure, divided into 13 spans each of
100 feet, would meet the case. The actual construction was carried
out by Mr. A. L. Lawley as supervising engineer on behalf of the
railway-builders. The bridge is of the lattice girder type, the trains
running through the bridge. The whole of the steel-work was prepared
in England, shipped to Cape Town, and then transported 2000 miles up
country by railway to a yard improvised on the river bank, where the
ribs of steel were assembled to form the spans. In addition, a pontoon,
likewise of steel, was sent up in pieces in a similar manner, assembled
on the bank and launched. This pontoon was utilised to float the spans
into position, and also to convey material across the river to enable
the grade to be pushed ahead while the waterway was being spanned. The
pontoon was pulled from bank to bank by means of an endless wire cable,
driven by a steam engine.
The spans are supported on masonry piers, each 18 feet wide by 8
feet thick. Mr. Lawley found the river-bed to be composed of rock
and gravel, which gave a first-class foundation, and favoured the
expeditious erection of the piers. Consequently he concluded, if the
piers were pushed forward at low water, that it would be possible to
set the steel-work directly the river once more gained flood-level,
and arrangements to this end were carried out. Timber coffer-dams were
built around the sites for the piers, and by the aid of pumps the
interior was kept clear of water to permit the workmen to achieve
their stone-setting task within under the most favourable conditions.
While the piers were progressing other gangs of natives were hard at
work in the improvised shipyard riveting the steel-work together. Each
span measured 100 feet long, 14 feet in width, 20 feet in height, and
weighed 56 tons. The pontoon itself measured 95 feet long by 45 feet
wide.
Work continued so favourably that by the time the masonry work on the
piers was completed the spans had been assembled, and all was ready
for transhipping them from the yard to their respective positions on
the piers. Novel means for transporting the weighty and bulky masses
of steel were adopted. The pontoon was brought endwise against the
river bank and made fast. A length of railway track was laid from end
to end along the deck of the pontoon, and was brought against the ends
of another short track running down the river bank, thereby making a
continuous length of railway line. As the completed spans were ranged
side by side in the yard at right angles to the river, they had to be
hauled sideways for some distance. Rails were laid under each end of
the spans at right angles to the railway and were well greased so as
to become a kind of “ways” such as are used to launch a vessel. Gangs
of natives tugged at the span to haul it broadside until it rested on
the railway line, which also was lubricated. Then two locomotives were
brought up to the rear end of the span, and by sheer steam force pushed
it down the bank railway on to the pontoon, where it rested fairly and
squarely, and overhanging equally each end of the pontoon, which was
five feet shorter than the span.
The pontoon was then released from its moorings and was hauled out
into the stream by means of the endless cable, until it came centrally
between the two piers on which the span was to be placed. From each
pier a hawser was passed to stanchions on either end of the pontoon.
The endless cable was slackened, and the pontoon, with its novel cargo,
was permitted to drift slowly down-stream towards the space between
the two piers, being guided in its course by manipulation of one or
the other of the two hawsers. In this manner the craft was steered
delicately into position and was made fast. The actual transference
of the span from the pontoon to the masonry bed was carried out by
hydraulic jacks, which lifted the whole mass of steel. When the jacks
were released, the ends of the span rested firmly on the two piers. By
hauling on to the endless cable the pontoon now was drawn clear of the
bridge to return for another load.
This novel method proved so completely successful that the 13 spans
were transferred from the bank and set in position within the short
space of 8 days!--half the time the engineer had computed as being
requisite for the operation. The whole undertaking was accomplished in
record time, bearing in mind the peculiar conditions prevailing in the
heart of Africa, and the use of native labour; for, from the time the
first move towards the erection of the piers was made, to the setting
of the last span, only five months elapsed. The total cost of this mass
of steel, weighing 728 tons and stretching in an unbroken line for
1,300 feet across the river, was £50,000, or $250,000.
When Broken Hill was gained, 2,013 miles from Cape Town, construction
was brought to a stop. The mastermind had passed away some time before,
and the colleague who had assisted Rhodes when other financial magnates
turned a deaf ear to the project, had also joined the great majority.
By the time Broken Hill was gained, £8,000,000 (or $40,000,000) had
been sunk in the enterprise. For months the stack of 2000 tons of
steel for the resumption northwards remained untouched, through lack
of funds, though Mr. Alfred Beit had left £1,500,000 (or $7,500,000)
towards the continuation of the work. Then the mineral wealth around
Katanga in the Congo Free State, which was under exploitation, demanded
transportation to the coast. Accordingly, the line was pushed on to the
border of the adjacent country. Rhodes’ objective was Kituta, at the
southern end of Lake Tanganyika, 450 miles north of Broken Hill, which
point marks the limit of British sway in South Africa, a distance of
about 2,700 miles by rail from Cape Town.
When Rhodes’ vision presented the railway stretching in an unbroken
thread from north to south, the knowledge of the country lying between
the Zambesi and the Nile was somewhat scanty. As the scheme progressed
it became known that Lake Tanganyika was hemmed in by precipitous
mountains, where railway-building would soar to an enormous figure
per mile. On the other hand, the lake is a splendid sheet of water,
offering excellent navigation throughout its length of 400 miles.
Therefore, there should be no reason why the example of the Russian
Government, in regard to the use of ferry steamers on Lake Baikal,
should not be emulated to transport trains intact from Kituta at the
southern, to Usamburu at the northern, end of Lake Tanganyika.
Ninety miles north of Usamburu is Lake Kivu, and the dividing neck of
land offers no great difficulties to construction beyond a gradual
rise of 2000 feet. Reaching Lake Kivu, which is also surrounded by
lofty ridges, the railway would once more take to the water for
some 60 miles. Continuing northwards, there is another stretch of
rising country to be crossed, where the track would be lifted to its
greatest height, or summit level, between Cape Town and Cairo, to
gain the head of Lake Edward, which is 75 miles in length. Owing to
the flat character of the country around this sheet of water lending
itself to cheap railway construction, probably it would be found
preferable to keep to the land, especially as the country is healthy,
thickly populated, and offers great promise of becoming wealthy under
commercial development.
But the line, after leaving Lake Kivu, has to pass through Belgian
territory, and as this location is inevitable unless it were decided
to swing somewhat to the east to pass through German East Africa, an
easier route has been offered through the Congo. The railway has been
taken from Broken Hill to Elizabethville. The Belgian authorities
are anxious that it should be extended from that point to Bukana on
the Congo River. Boats could be used between this point and Congolo,
where communication by rail would extend to Kindu, to be followed by
another stretch of river as far as Ponthierville. The existing railway
to Stanleyville would then be pressed into service, and from the
last-named point the line would debouch to the north-east to gain the
Albert Nyanza, and there link up with the railway that has been driven
southwards from Cairo.