Those unacquainted with the duties of an engineer, are apt to think
that they are extremely light, and require him simply to sit upon his
seat and, shutting off or letting on the steam, regulate the speed of
his engine. Although this is a part of the duty, still it is but a
small portion, and for the benefit of those of my readers who are not
posted on the matter, I will briefly state a few of the things he has
to think of.
Say we take the engine lying in the shop cold, and an order comes for
him to go out on the road. There is no water in the boiler; he must
see that it is filled up to the proper level, and that the fire is
started. He must know beforehand that no piece of the machinery is
broken or loosened, so as to endanger the engine. To know this, he
must make a personal inspection of every part of the engine--trucks,
wheels, drivers, cranks, rods, valves, gearing, coupling, flues,
scales, journals, driving-boxes, throttle gear, oil cups; in short,
every thing about the engine must be seen to by him personally. He must
know that every journal, every joint on the whole machine is in proper
order to receive the oil necessary to lubricate it, for they will each
and all receive a pretty severe strain in his coming ride, and, unless
well oiled, will be pretty apt to get warm. He must know whether the
flues are tight, or whether there are any leaks in the boiler to cause
him trouble, or render it necessary for him to carry a light pressure
of steam. He must see that there is water in the tank, and wood upon
the tender; that he has upon the engine the tools usually necessary
in case of a breakdown, such as hammers, chisels, wrenches, tongs,
bolts, nuts, coupling-pins, plugs for the flues in case one should
burst, chains, extra links, jack-screws, crow, and pinch-bars, an axe
or hatchet; waste or rags, oil, tallow for the cylinders, and material
for packing any joint that may give out. All this he must see to and
know before he starts. And then, when steam is up, he can go. Now he
must closely watch his time-card, and run so as to make the various
stations on time. He must know that his watch is correct and in good
order. He must see closely to his pumps that they work right, and that
the water keeps at the proper level in the boiler. He must watch the
scales that the pressure of the steam does not get too great, also the
working of his engine. To the exhausts of the steam his ear must be as
sensitive as a musical composer would be to a discord, for by it he
can tell much of the condition of his engine, the set and play of the
valves, and the condition of the many joints in the working machinery.
At the same time he must keep the strictest watch of the track ahead of
him, ready-nerved for any emergency that can possibly arise; it may be
a broken rail, cattle on the track, some stubborn, hasty fool striving
to cross the track ahead of him, a broken bridge, washed out culvert,
a train broken down; or it may be some stranger frantically swinging
his hands, and, in every manner possible, endeavoring to attract his
attention. Something may happen to his train or his engine, and he
must keep the strictest watch of both; his hands must be ready to blow
the whistle, shut off steam or reverse his engine, on the instant
intimation of danger, for his engine gets over the ground at a rapid
rate, and nothing but a cool nerve and stout arm can stop it, perhaps
not these. And if any thing does happen rendering it necessary for him
to stop, he cannot say to anybody, "Here, do this;" he must go at it
himself; and oftentimes, though it be but a trivial thing, it will tax
his ingenuity to the utmost to repair it. Thus he goes on every day,
be it clear or cloudy, whether summer breeze fill the air with balm,
or the chill winds of winter make the road-bed solid as the rock, and
the iron of the rails and wheels as brittle as glass; whether the rain,
pelting down, makes of every tiny brook a torrent or the drifted snow
blockades the track, and his engine has to plunge into the chilly mass;
through it all his eye must never cease its vigil, nor his arm lose
its cunning. In cold weather he must watch the pumps that they do not
freeze while standing at the stations, or the wheels get fractured
by the frost; and, in cold or warm weather, he must keep watch of
every place where there is the slightest friction, and keep it well
oiled. At every station where time is allowed, he must give the whole
engine a close inspection, lest some little part be out of order, and
endangering some larger and more important piece of the machinery. At
last, after this his journey for the day is ended, his work is by no
means done. He must again inspect his engine, and if there is any
thing out of order, so much that he cannot without assistance repair
it, he must apply at head-quarters for the necessary aid. But there are
a hundred little matters that he can attend to himself; these he must
see to and do. The friction and enormous strain necessarily wears the
brasses of the journals, and creates what he calls "lost motion," that
is, the journal moves in its box loosely without causing the required
motion in the part of the machinery with which it is connected; this he
must remedy by various expedients. The spring-packing of the piston may
have worn loose, and require to be set out; some one of the numerous
steam joints may be leaking, and these he must repack. Some of the
flues may also be leaking; if so, he must tighten them; or there may
be a crack in the boiler that leaks which can be remedied by caulking;
this he must do. The grate-bars may be broken or disarranged; he must
enter the fire-box and arrange them. The packing in the pumps may have
worn so as to render their operation imperfect, or the valves may be
out of order, or the strainer between the tank and the pump may be
clogged; if either or all be the case, he must take down the pump and
rectify the matter. The smokestack also may be clogged with cinders, or
the netting over it may be choked so as to impede the draught; if so,
he must remedy it, or see that it is done. Some of the orifices through
which oil is let on to the machinery may be clogged or too open; these
he must see to. One or more of the journal-boxes of the wheels may need
repacking, and he must do it. An eccentric may have slipped a little,
or a valve-rod been stripped, or a wheel be defective, or a tire on
the driving-wheel may be loose, and have to be bolted on or reset. A
gauge-cock may be clogged, a leaf of a spring broke, or the boiler may
be very dirty and want washing out. Any of these things or a hundred
others may have happened, and require his attention, which must on all
occasions be given to it; for each part, however simple, goes to make
up a whole, that, if out of repair, will render imminent a fearful loss
of life and limb.
Thus the engineer rides every day, having the same care, and facing
the same dangers, with the same responsibility resting on him. Who
then shall say that, though he be grimy and greasy, rough and uncouth,
given to tobacco-chewing, and sometimes to hard swearing, he is of no
consequence to the world? Who shall blame him too severely if sometimes
he makes an error?
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|Transcriber's note: |
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|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. |
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