A HOLIDAY JOURNEY
The next morning, when Steve woke to the swaying of the train and a
drowsy sense of confusion and smoke, he could not for an instant think
where he was; but it did not take long for him to open his eyes,
recollect the happenings of the previous day, smile with satisfaction,
and hurriedly wriggle into his clothes.
Already he could hear his father stirring in the berth below and
presently the elder man called:
"We shall be in New York in half-an-hour, son, so get your traps packed
up. How did you sleep?"
"Sound as a top!"
"That is fine! I was afraid you might not rest very well. As I observed
last night, a sleeping car is not all that it might be. The day will
come when it will have to be improved. However, since it gets us to New
York safely and economizes hours of day travel, it is a blessing for
which we should be grateful."
As he spoke he moved into the aisle and helped the boy down from his
perch; they then sought out a distant seat where they dropped down and
watched the rapidly passing landscape.
"I have been thinking, as I was dressing, of the story you told me last
night about our American railroads," said the lad. "It surprised me a
good deal to hear that the South took the lead over the North in the
introduction of the steam locomotive."
Mr. Tolman smiled into the eager face.
"While it is true that South Carolina took the initiative in railroading
for a short time the South did not remain long in the ascendency," he
answered, "for the third steam locomotive put into actual passenger
service was built at Albany. This city, because of its geographical
position, was a great stagecoach center, having lines that radiated from
it into the interior in almost every direction. And not only was it an
important coaching rendezvous but as it was also a leading commercial
tributary of New York the Mohawk and Hudson Railroad had built a short
track between Albany and Schenectady and supplied it with cars propelled
by horse power. Now in 1831 the company decided to transform this road
into a steam railroad and to this end ordered a steam locomotive called
the 'DeWitt Clinton' to be constructed at West Point with the aim of
demonstrating to the northern States the advantages of steam
transportation. You can imagine the excitement this announcement caused.
Think, if you had never seen a steam engine, how eager you would be to
behold the wonder. These olden time New Yorkers felt precisely the same
way. Although the route was only sixteen miles long the innovation was
such a novel and tremendous one that all along the way crowds of
spectators assembled to watch the passing of the magic train. At the
starting point near the Hudson there was a dense throng of curious
onlookers who gathered to see for the first time in all their lives the
steam locomotive and its brigade of coaches,--for in those days people
never spoke of a train of cars; a group of railroad carriages was always
known as a brigade, and the term _coach_ was, and in many cases still is
applied to the cars. This train that created so much interest was
practically like Stephenson's English trains, being made up of a small
locomotive, a tender, and two carriages constructed by fastening
stagecoach bodies on top of railroad trucks. Stout iron chains held
these vehicles together--a primitive, and as it subsequently proved, a
very impractical method of coupling."
"It must have been a funny enough train!" Steve exclaimed.
"I doubt if it appeared so to the people of that time," his father
returned, "for since the audience of that period had nothing with which
to compare it, it probably seemed quite the ordinary thing. Was it not
like the railroad trains used in England? How was America to know
anything different? Yes, I am sure the 'DeWitt Clinton' was considered a
very grand affair indeed, even though it was only a small engine without
a cab, and had barely enough platform for the engineer to stand upon
while he drove the engine and fed the pitch-pine logs into the furnace."
"How many people did the train hold?" inquired Steve, with growing
curiosity.
"Each coach carried six persons inside and two outside," was Mr.
Tolman's reply, "and on this first eventful trip not quite enough
adventurous souls could be found to fill the seats. Perhaps could the
unwary passengers who did go have foreseen the discomforts ahead of them
there would have been fewer yet. But often ignorance is bliss. It
certainly was so in this case for in high feather the fortunate ones
took their places, the envied of many a beholder."
"What happened?" asked the boy eagerly. "Was the trip a success?"
"That depends on what you mean by success," laughed his father. "If you
are asking whether the passengers arrived safely at Schenectady I can
assure you that they did; but if you wish to know whether the journey
was a comfortable one, and likely to convert the stranger to steam
travel, that is quite another matter. The description of the excursion
which history has handed down to us is very naive. In the first place
the pitch-pine fuel sent a smudge of smoke and cinders back over all the
passengers and if it did not entirely choke them it at least encrusted
them thickly with dirt, particularly the ones who sat outside. The
umbrellas they opened to protect themselves were soon demolished, their
coverings being blown away or burned up by the sparks. In fact, it was
only by continual alertness that the clothing of the venturesome
travelers was not ignited. In the meantime those inside the coaches
fared little better, for as the coaches were without springs and the
track was none too skilfully laid, the jolting of the cars all but sent
the heads of the passengers through the roof of the coaches. Added to
this the train proceeded in a series of jerks that wrenched the chains
and banged one coach into another with such violence that those outside
were in danger of being hurled down upon the track, and those inside
were tossed hither and thither from seat to seat. You will easily
comprehend that the outing was not one of unalloyed pleasure."
The boy laughed heartily.
"Of course," went on Mr. Tolman, "there was no help for anybody until
the first stopping place was reached; but when the engine slowed down
and the grimy, almost unrecognizable pilgrims had a chance to catch
their breath, something had to be done by way of a remedy. The remedy
fortunately was near at hand and consisted of nothing very difficult.
Some of the more enterprising of the company leaped out and tore the
rails from a near-by fence and after stretching the coupling chains taut,
they bound them to the wooden boards. In this way the coaches were kept
apart and the silk hats of the dignitaries who had been invited to
participate in the opening of the road rescued from total
annihilation."
"I'll bet everybody was glad to disembark at Schenectady," declared
Stephen.
"I'll wager they were! They must have been exhausted from being jounced
and jostled about. Nevertheless the novelty of the adventure probably
brought its own compensations, and they were doubtless diverted from
their woes by the sight of the cheering and envious spectators, the
terrified horses, and the open-mouthed children that greeted them
wherever they went."
"But the promoters could hardly expect the public to be very keen for a
steam railroad after such an exhibition," reflected Steve.
"Fortunately our forefathers were not as critical as you," said his
father, "and in consequence the coach line from Albany to Schenectady
was speedily supplanted by a steam railroad, as were the various coach
lines into the interior of the State. As a result hundreds of
broken-down coach horses were turned out to pasture, a merciful thing.
Gradually a series of short steam railway lines were constructed from
one end of the State to the other, until in 1851 these were joined
together to make a continuous route to Lake Erie. Perhaps we have only
scant appreciation of the revolution that came with this advance in
transportation. It meant the beginning of travel and commerce between
the eastern States and those in the interior of the country; it also
meant the speedy shipment of eastern products to the West, where they
were greatly needed, and the reception of western commodities in the
East. But more than all this, it signified a bond of fellowship between
the scattered inhabitants of the same vast country who up to this time
had been almost total strangers to one another, and was a mighty stride
in the direction of national loyalty and sympathy. Therefore it was
entirely seemly that Millard Fillmore, then President of the United
States, and Daniel Webster, the Secretary of State, should be honored
guests at the celebration that attended the opening of the railroad."
"Did the road reach no farther than Lake Erie?" asked Stephen.
"Not at first," replied his father. "From that point commerce was
carried on by means of ships on the Great Lakes. But in time western
railroad companies began to build short stretches of track which later
on they joined together as the other railroad builders had done."
"Did the line go all the way across the country?"
"Oh, no, indeed. Our trans-continental railroads were a mighty project in
themselves and their story is a romance which I will tell you some other
time. Before such stupendous enterprises could be realities, our young,
young country had a vast deal of growing to do, and its infant railroads
and engineering methods had to be greatly improved. So long as we still
built roads where the rails were liable to come up through the floor and
injure the passengers, and where the tracks were not strongly enough
constructed to resist floods and freshets, our steam locomotion could
not expect any universal degree of popularity."
"I don't suppose, though, that the cows continued to tip the cars over
and turn the passengers out into the dirt as they did in the days of
Peter Cooper," mused Steve thoughtfully.
"They may not have derailed the trains," his father replied quite
seriously, "but they often did delay them. Nor could the passengers be
blamed for finding fault with the unheated cars, or the fact that
sometimes, when it snowed hard, the engineer ran his engine under cover
and refused to go on, leaving those on the train the choice of staying
where they were until the storm abated or going on foot to their
destination."
"Not really!"
"Yes, indeed. Such things happened quite frequently. Then there are
stories of terrible gales when the snow piled up on the track until the
engine had to be dug out, for snow plows did not keep the tracks clear
then as they do now; nor was it an uncommon thing for the mud from the
spring washouts to submerge the rails, in which case the engines had to
be pulled out of the mire by oxen. In fact, at certain seasons of the
year some trains carried oxen for this very purpose. For you must
remember that the engines of that date were not powerful enough to make
progress through mud, snow, or against fierce head winds. Often a strong
gale would delay them for hours or bring them to a standstill
altogether."
"Well, I guess it is no wonder we were not equipped to build a
trans-continental road under such conditions," said the lad, with a quiet
smile.
"Oh, these defects were only a minor part of our railroad tribulations,"
responded his father. "For example, when Pennsylvania started her first
railroad the year after the line between New York and Schenectady was
laid, there was a fresh chapter of obstacles. Strangely enough, the
locomotive, 'Old Ironsides,' was built by Mr. M. W. Baldwin, whose name
has since become celebrated as the founder of the Baldwin Locomotive
Works. In 1832, however, the Baldwin locomotive was quite a different
product from the present-day magnificently constructed steam engine.
This initial attempt at locomotive building was a queer little engine
with wheels so light that unless there was plenty of ballast aboard it
was impossible to keep it on the track; and besides that, the poor wee
thing could not get up steam enough to start itself and in consequence
Mr. Baldwin and some of his machinists were obliged to give it a violent
push whenever it set out and then leap aboard when it was under way in
order to weigh it down and keep it on the track."
"Imagine having to hold an engine down!" ejaculated Steve, with
amusement.
"The story simply goes to prove how much in the making locomotives
really were," Mr. Tolman said. "And not only did this toy engine have to
be started by a friendly push, but it was too feeble to generate steam
fast enough to keep itself going after it was once on its way. Therefore
every now and then the power would give out and Mr. Baldwin and his men
would be forced to get out and run along beside the train, pushing it as
they went that it might keep up its momentum until a supply of steam
could again be acquired. Can you ask for anything more primitive than
that?"
"It certainly makes one realize the progress locomotive builders have
made," the boy replied, with gravity.
"It certainly does," agreed his father. "Think how Baldwin and his men
must have struggled first with one difficulty and then with another;
think how they must have experimented and worked to perfect the tiny
engine with which they began! It was the conquering of this multitude of
defects that gave to the world the intricate, exquisitely made machine
which at this very minute is pulling you and me into New York."
There was an interval of silence during which Stephen glanced out at the
flying panorama framed by the window.
"Where was New England all this time?" demanded he, with jealous
concern. "Didn't Massachusetts do anything except build the old granite
road at Quincy?"
"Railroads, for various reasons, were not popular in Massachusetts,"
returned his father. "As usual New England was conservative and was
therefore slow in waking up to the importance of steam transportation.
Boston was on the coast, you see, and had its ships as well as the canal
boats that connected the city with the manufacturing districts of the
Merrimac. Therefore, although the question of building railroads was
agitated in 1819 nothing was done about the matter. As was natural the
canal company opposed the venture, and there was little enthusiasm
elsewhere concerning a project that demanded a great outlay of money
with only scant guarantee that any of it would ever come back to the
capitalists who advanced it. Moreover, the public in general was
sceptical about railroads or else totally uninterested in them. And even
had a railroad been built at this time it would not have been a steam
road for it was proposed to propel the cars by horse power just as those
at Quincy had been."
"Oh!" interjected Steve scornfully. "They might at least have tried
steam."
"People had little faith in it," explained Mr. Tolman. "Those who had
the faith lacked the money to back the enterprise, and those who had the
money lacked the faith. If a company could have gone ahead and built a
steam railroad that was an unquestioned success many persons would
undoubtedly have been convinced of its value and been willing to put
capital into it; but as matters stood, there was so much antagonism
against the undertaking that nobody cared to launch the venture. There
were many business men who honestly regarded a steam railroad as a
menace to property and so strong was this feeling that in 1824 the town
of Dorchester, a village situated a short distance from Boston, actually
took legal measures to prevent any railroad from passing through its
territory."
"They needn't have been so fussed," said Stephen, with a grin.
"Railroads weren't plenty enough to worry them!"
"Oh, the Quincy road was not the only railroad in Massachusetts," his
father asserted quickly, "for in spite of opposition a railroad to
Lowell, modeled to some extent after the old granite road, had been
built. This railroad was constructed on stone ties, as the one at Quincy
had been; for although such construction was much more costly it was
thought at the time to be far more durable. Several years afterward,
when experience had demonstrated that wood possessed more _give_, and
that a hard, unyielding roadbed only creates jar, the granite ties that
had cost so much were taken up and replaced by wooden ones."
"What a shame!"
"Thus do we live and learn," said his father whimsically. "Our blunders
are often very expensive. The only redeeming thing about them is that we
pass our experience on to others and save them from tumbling into the
same pit. Thus it was with the early railroad builders. When the Boston
and Providence Road was constructed this mistake was not repeated and a
flexible wooden roadbed was laid. In the meantime a short steam
railroad line had been built from Boston to Newton, a distance of seven
miles, and gradually the road to this suburb was lengthened until it
extended first to Natick and afterward to Worcester, a span of
forty-four miles. Over this road, during fine weather, three trains ran
daily; in winter there were but two. I presume nothing simpler or less
pretentious could have been found than this early railroad whose trains
were started at the ringing of a bell hung on a near-by tree. Although
it took three hours to make a trip now made in one, the journey was
considered very speedy, and unquestionably it was if travelers had to
cover the distance by stagecoach. When we consider that in 1834 it took
freight the best part of a week to get to Boston by wagons a three-hour
trip becomes a miracle."
"I suppose there was not so much freight in those days anyway," Steve
speculated.
"Fortunately not. People had less money and less leisure to travel, and
therefore there were not so many trunks to be carried; I am not sure,
too, but the frugal Americans of that day had fewer clothes to take with
them when they did go. Then, as each town or district was of necessity
more or less isolated, people knew fewer persons outside of their own
communities, did a less extensive business, and had less incentive to go
a-visiting. Therefore, although the Boston and Worcester Railroad could
boast only two baggage cars (or burthen cars, as they were called), the
supply was sufficient, which was fortunate, especially since the
freight house in Boston was only large enough to shelter these two."
"And out of all this grew the Boston and Albany Railroad?" questioned
the boy.
"Yes, although it was not until 1841, about eight years later, that the
line was extended to New York State. By that time tracks had been laid
through the Berkshire hills, opening up the western part of
Massachusetts. The story of that first momentous fifteen-hour journey of
the Boston officials to the New York capital, where they were welcomed
and entertained by the Albany dignitaries, is picturesque reading
indeed. One of the party who set out from Boston on that memorable day
carried with him some spermaceti candles which on the delegates' arrival
were burned with great ceremony at the evening dinner."
"I suppose it seemed a wonderful thing to reach Albany in fifteen
hours," remarked Steve.
"It was like a fairy tale," his father answered. "To estimate the marvel
to the full you must think how long it would have taken to drive the
distance, or make the journey by water. Therefore the Boston officials
burned their spermaceti candles in triumph; and the next day, when the
Albany hosts returned to Boston with their guests, they symbolized the
onrush of the world's progress by bringing with them a barrel of flour
which had been cut, threshed, and ground only two days before, and put
into a wooden barrel made from a tree which was cut down, sawed, and
put together while the flour was being ground. This does not seem to us
anything very astounding but it was a feat to stop the breath in those
days."
"And what did they do with the flour?"
"Oh, that evening when they reached Boston the flour was made into some
sort of bread which was served at the dinner the Boston men gave to
their visitors."
"I wonder what they would have said if somebody had told them then that
sometime people would be going from Boston to New York in five hours?"
the lad observed.
"I presume they would not have believed it," was the reply. "Nor would
they have been able to credit tales of the great numbers of persons who
would constantly be traveling between these two great cities. At that
time so few people made the trip that it was very easy to keep track of
them; and that they might be identified in case of accident the company
retained a list of those who went on the trains. At first this rule
worked very well, the passengers being carefully tabulated, together
with their place of residence; but later, when traffic began to increase
and employees began to have more to do, those whose duty it was to make
out these lists became hurried and careless and in the old railroad
annals we read such entries as these:
"'_Woman in green bonnet; boy; stranger; man with side whiskers,_'
etc."
A peal of laughter broke from Stephen.
"Railroad officials would have some job to list passengers now, wouldn't
they?" he said. "We should all just have to wear identification tags as
the men did during the War."
His father acquiesced whimsically.
"I have sometimes feared we might have to come to that, anyway," he
replied. "With the sky populated with aeroplanes and the streets filled
with automobiles man stands little chance in these days of preserving
either his supremacy or his identity. When we get on Fifth Avenue to-day
you see if you do not agree with me," he added, as the train pulled into
the big station.