LONDON AND NORTH WESTERN RAILWAY.

According to Mr. Punch, one of the greatest authorities of the day on all

such subjects, the nearest way to Euston Station is to take a cab; but those

who are not in a hurry may take advantage of the omnibuses that start from

Gracechurch Street and Charing Cross, traversing the principal thoroughfares

and calling at the George and Blue Boar, Holborn, the Green Man and Still,

Oxford Street, and the Booking Offices in Regent Circus.

Euston, including its dependency, Camden Station, is the greatest railway

port in England, or indeed in the world. It is the principal gate through

which flows and reflows the traffic of a line which has cost more than

twenty-two millions sterling; which annually earns more than two millions and

a-half for the conveyance of passengers, and merchandise, and live stock; and

which directly employs more than ten thousand servants, beside the tens of

thousands to whom, in mills or mines, in ironworks, in steam-boats and

coasters, it gives indirect employment. What London is to the world, Euston

is to Great Britain: there is no part of the country to which railway

communication has extended, with the exception of the Dover and Southampton

lines, which may not be reached by railway conveyance from Euston station.

The Buckinghamshire lines from Bletchley open the way through Oxford to all

the Western counties, only interrupted by the break of gauge. The

Northampton and Peterborough, from Blisworth, proceeds to the Eastern coast

of Norfolk and Lincoln. At Rugby commences one of several roads to the

North, either by Leicester, Nottingham, and Lincoln, or by Derby and

Sheffield; and at Rugby, too, we may either proceed to Stafford by the direct

route of the Trent Valley, a line which is rendered classical by the memory

of Sir Robert Peel, who turned its first sod with a silver spade and honoured

its opening by a celebrated speech; or we may select the old original line

through Coventry, Birmingham, and Wolverhampton, passing through a network of

little railways leading to Warwick and Leamington, the result of unprofitable

competition. A continuation of the Trent Valley line intersects the Pottery

district, where the cheapest Delft and the most exquisite specimens of China

ware are produced with equal success; and thus we reach Liverpool and

Manchester by the straightest possible line.

At Stafford we can turn off to Shrewsbury and Chester, or again following the

original route arrive at Crewe, the great workshop and railway town of the

London and North Western. Crewe affords an ample choice of routes--1st, to

Leeds by Stockport (with a branch to Macclesfield) and Huddersfield, or from

Leeds to York, or to Harrogate, and so on by the East Coast line through

Durham, Newcastle, and Berwick, to Edinburgh; 2dly, direct to Manchester;

3rdly, to Warrington, Newton, Wigan, and the North, through the salt mining

country; and, 4thly, to Chester. At Chester we may either push on to Ireland

by way of the Holyhead Railway, crossing the famous Britannia Tubular Bridge,

or to Birkenhead, the future rival of Liverpool.

At Liverpool steamers for America warranted to reach New York in ten days are

at our command; or, leaving commerce, cotton, and wool, we may ride through

Proud Preston and Lancaster to Kendal and Windermere and the Lake district;

or, pressing forward through "Merry Carlisle," reach Gretna at a pace that

defies the competition of fathers and guardians, and enter Scotland on the

direct road to Glasgow, and, if necessary, ride on to Aberdeen and Perth.

A short line from Camden Station opens a communication with the East and West

India Docks and the coast of Essex, and another, three miles and a half in

length, from Willesden Station, will shortly form a connexion with the South

Western, and thereby with all the South and Western lines from Dover to

Southampton.

The railway system, of which the lines above enumerated form so large a part,

is barely twenty-five years old: in that space of time we have not only

supplied the home market but taught Europe and America to follow our example;

even Egypt and India will soon have their railways, and we now look with no

more surprise on the passage of a locomotive with a few hundred passengers or

tons of goods than on a wheelbarrow or Patent Hansom Cab. Grouse from

Aberdeen, fat cattle from Norfolk, piece goods from Manchester, hardwares

from Sheffield, race horses from Newmarket, coals from Leicestershire, and

schoolboys from Yorkshire, are despatched and received, for the distance of a

few hundred miles, with the most perfect regularity, as a matter of course.

We take a ticket to dine with a friend in Chester or Liverpool, or to meet

the hounds near Bletchley or Rugby, as calmly as we engage a cab to go a

mile; we consider twenty miles an hour disgustingly slow, and grumble awfully

at a delay of five minutes in a journey of a hundred miles. Millions have

been spent in order to save an hour and a half between London and Liverpool;

yet there are plenty of men not much past thirty who remember when all

respectable plain practical common sense men looked upon the project for a

railway between London and Birmingham as something very wild if not very

wicked; and who remember too, that in winter the journey from London to

Liverpool often occupied them twenty-two hours, costing 4 pounds inside and 2

pounds out, besides having to walk up the steepest hills in Derbyshire,--the

same journey which is now completed in six hours at a cost of 2 pounds 5s.,

and in twelve hours for 16s. 9d., by the Parliamentary train in an enclosed

carriage.

It may be perhaps a useful wholesome lesson to those who are in the habit of

accepting as their just due--without thought, without thankfulness--the last

best results of the industry and ingenuity of centuries, if, before entering

the massive portals of Euston Station, we dig up a few passages of the early

history of railways from dusty Blue Books and forgotten pamphlets.

In 1826, the project of a railway from Liverpool to Manchester came before a

Committee of the House of Commons, and, after a long investigation, the

principle was approved, but the bill thrown out in consequence of defects in

the survey. The promoters rested their case entirely on a goods' traffic, to

be conveyed at the rate of six or seven miles an hour. The engineer was

George Stephenson, the father of the railway system, a man of genius, who,

although he clearly foresaw the ultimate results of his project, had neither

temper nor tact enough to conciliate the ignorant obstinacy of his opponents;

in fact, he was a very bad witness and a very great man. It is curious, in

reading the evidence, to observe the little confidence the counsel for the

bill had in their engineer, and the contempt with which the counsel for the

opposition treated him. The promoters of the railway expected few

passengers, hoped to lower the rates of the canals, and had not made up their

minds whether to employ locomotives or horses; George Stephenson looked

forward confidently at that same period to conveying the greater portion of

the goods and passenger traffic by a complete railway system; but he either

would not or could not explain the grounds of his confidence, and therefore

we find Mr. Harrison, the most eminent Parliamentary counsel of that day,

speaking in the following insolent strain of a man whose genius he and his

friends were unable to appreciate:--

"Every part of this scheme shows that this man (George Stephenson) has

applied himself to a subject of which he has no knowledge, and to which he

has no science to apply. . . . . When we set out with the original

prospectus, we were to gallop at the rate of twelve miles an hour, with the

aid of the devil in the form of a locomotive, sitting as postillion on the

fore horse. But the speed of these locomotives has slackened. The learned

Sergeant would like to go seven, but he will be content with six miles an

hour. I will show that he cannot go six. Practically, or for any useful

purposes, they may go at something more than four miles an hour. The wind

will affect them: any gale of wind which would affect the traffic on the

Mersey, would render it impossible to set off a locomotive engine, either by

poking the fire, or keeping up the pressure of the steam until the boiler

burst. A shower of rain retards a railway, and snow entirely stops it."

In reply, Mr. Adams modestly observed, "I should like my learned friend to

have pointed out any part of the publication in favour of the Liverpool and

Manchester Railway, which justified his statement that we professed that

goods were to be carried at the rate of twelve miles an hour; we have proved

that they can be carried at seven miles an hour, and it was never intended

they should be conveyed at a higher rate."

In the following year the Liverpool and Manchester Bill was carried, and in

1830 the career of the civilizing locomotive commenced, but it took many more

years to convince "Practical men" that the Railway would successfully compete

with the Coach and Canal.

When, in 1831, the scheme of a Railway between London and Birmingham was made

public, a very clever pamphlet appeared under the title of "Beware the

Bubbles," in which we find the following comical prognostications of the

results of Railways:--

"After all, what advantage does the London and Birmingham Railway hold out?

Only one,--celerity of motion; and, after all, the ten miles an hour is

absolutely slower than the coaches, some of which go as fast as eleven or

twelve miles an hour; and, with the length of time that the engine and its

cumbrous train requires ere it can stop, and the other contingencies, there

would be little difference in the time of a twelve miles an hour coach and a

fifteen miles an hour engine, supposing twenty or thirty stoppages, to pick

up little parcels, between London and Birmingham. The conveyance is not so

safe as by coach."

After enumerating a series of theoretical dangers, he proceeds. "Another

consideration, which would deter invalids, ladies, and children from making

use of the Railway, would be want of accommodation along the line, unless the

Directors of the Railway chose to build inns at their own expense. But those

inns the Directors would have, in great part, to support, because they would

be out of the way of any business except that arising from the Railway, and

that would be trifling. Commercial travellers would never, by any chance, go

by the Railroad. The occasional traveller, who went the same route for

pleasure, would go by the coach-road also, because of the cheerful company

and comfortable dinner.

"Not one of the nobility, the gentry, or those who travel in their own

carriages, would really like to be drawn at the tail of a train of waggons,

in which some hundreds of bars of iron were jingling with a noise that would

drown all the bells of the district, and in momentary apprehension of having

his vehicle broken to pieces, and himself killed or crippled by the collision

of those thirty-two ton masses. Even if a man had no carriage of his own,

what inducement could he have to take so ungainly a conveyance. Three hours

is more than the maximum difference by which the ordinary speed of coaches

could be exceeded; and it is not one traveller in a thousand to whom an

arrival in London and Birmingham three hours sooner would be of the slightest

consequence.

"Then as to goods. The only goods that require velocity in coming to London,

are ribands from Coventry. Half the luggage room of a coach, on a Saturday

night, is quite adequate to the conveyance of them. The manufacturers of

Coventry will never be such fools as to send their property on an errand by

which it must travel further and fare worse. For heavy goods, the saving by

canal would be as twelve to one, beside the perfect safety. In the canal

boat there is no danger of fracture, even to the most delicate goods;

whereas, if fine China goods were to be brought by the rapid waggons, the

breakage would probably be twenty-five per cent.

"As to the profits of the undertaking let us be extravagantly liberal.

Suppose that the Railway was to get one-third of the goods, as well as one-

third of the passengers, see what they would make of it:--

One-third of the Goods . . . 96,540 pounds

One-third of the Passengers . 30,240

--------

126,780 pounds

--------

Annual expenses . . . . . 385,000 pounds

Returns. . . . . . . . 126,780

--------

Annual deficiency . . . . 258,220 pounds

--------

To meet an outlay of 7,500,000 pounds.

"But the probability is that canals would reduce their rates one-half; and

thus, competing wholesomely, extinguish the railway. The coach-masters would

do the same thing--run for twelve months at half the present fares, and then

not one man in his senses would risk his bones on the railway. The

innkeepers would follow a course precisely similar, and give nice smoking

dinners, foaming tankards and bottles of beeswing at so cheap a rate, and

meet their customers with so good humoured faces, and do so many of those

kind offices that legions would flock to the hospitable road. And while all

this was going on, and the thousands of men which the authors of this

ridiculous scheme had expected to send upon the parish were thriving, the

solitary stranger who had nobody to tell him better would go swinging at the

tail of the engine, bumping first on the iron plates on this side and then on

the iron plates on that side; and if he escaped being scalded to death by the

bursting of his engine, or having all his bones broken by collision with

another, he would be fain to rest for the night within some four bare walls

and gnaw a mouldy crust which he brought in his pocket, or, as an alternative

of luxury, wade some ten miles through the mire, and feast upon a rasher of

rusty bacon and a tankard of the smallest ale at the nearest hedge alehouse."

All this now sounds inexpressibly droll, and yet this prophet of evil was not

entirely wrong; nay, in some important particulars he was more right than the

railway promoters, whom he so heartily detested. The railway did cost nearly

seven millions instead of four millions as calculated by the projectors, and

the cost of working before the amalgamation with the Grand Junction did

amount to 380,000 pounds per annum: two figure facts which would have

effectually crushed speculation could they have been proved in 1831; but then

the per contra of traffic was equally astounding in its overflow, instead of

one-third of the existing traffic, or 126,780 pounds a-year allowed by the

pamphleteer, the London and Birmingham earned a gross revenue of nearly

900,000 pounds, while still leaving a traffic in heavy goods on the canals

sufficient to pay from 6 to 30 pounds per cent. to the proprietors, in spite

of a reduction of rates of upwards of 50 pounds per cent. Indeed this

traffic actually increased on the Grand Junction Canal, since the opening of

the Birmingham Railway, from 750,000 pounds in 1836, to 1,160,000 pounds in

1847.

Perhaps on no point would the expectation of the most sanguine among the

early projectors of railways been more satisfactorily exceeded than in regard

to safety. Swiftness, and cheapness, and power, acute intelligent engineers

foresaw; but that millions of passengers should be whirled along at a speed

varying from twenty to fifty miles an hour with more safety than they could

have secured by walking a-foot, would have seemed an anticipation of the very

wildest character. Yet such is the case. In 1850, upwards of seventy

millions of souls were conveyed by railway; when eleven passengers were

killed and fifty-four injured, or less than one to each million of passengers

conveyed.

Even at the risk of seeming trite, prosy, and common-place, it is right to

remind the young generation who consider the purchase of a railway ticket

gives them a right to grumble at a thousand imaginary defects and

deficiencies in railway management, how great are the advantages in

swiftness, economy, and safety, which they enjoy through the genius,

enterprise, and stubborn perseverance of George Stephenson and his friends

and pupils in 1825.

Rides on Railways · 第 6 / 38 题