Having gone thus far in our tale, permit us, good reader, to turn aside
for a little to make a somewhat closer inspection of the Iron Horse and
his belongings.
Railways existed long before the Iron Horse was born. They sprang into
being two centuries ago in the form of tramways, which at first were
nothing more or less than planks or rails of timber laid down between
the Newcastle-on-Tyne collieries and the river, for the purpose of
forming a better "way" over which to run the coal-trucks. From simple
timber-rails men soon advanced to planks having a strip of iron nailed
on their surface to prevent too rapid tear and wear, but it was not till
the year 1767 that cast-iron rails were introduced. In order to prevent
the trucks from slipping off the line the rails were cast with an
upright flange or guide at one side, and were laid on wooden or stone
sleepers.
This form of rail being found inconvenient, the flange was transferred
from the rails to the wheels, and this arrangement, under various
modifications has been ever since retained.
These "innocent" railroads--as they have been sometimes and most
appropriately named, seeing that they were guiltless alike of blood and
high speed--were drawn by horses, and confined at first to the
conveyance of coals. Modest though their pretensions were, however,
they were found to be an immense improvement on the ordinary roads,
insomuch that ten horses were found to be capable of working the traffic
on railroads, which it required 400 horses to perform on a common road.
These iron roads, therefore, began to multiply, and about the beginning
of the present century they were largely employed in the coal-fields and
mineral districts of the kingdom. About the same time thoughtful men,
seeing the immense advantage of such ways, began to suggest the
formation of railways, or tramways, to run along the side of our
turnpike-roads--a mode of conveyance, by the way, in regard to towns,
which thoughtful men are still, ever at the present day of supposed
enlightenment, endeavouring to urge upon an unbelieving public--a mode
of conveyance which we feel very confident will entirely supersede our
cumbrous and antiquated "'bus" in a very short time. What, we ask, in
the name of science and art and common-sense, is to prevent a tramway
being laid from Kensington to the Bank, "or elsewhere," which shall be
traversed by a succession of roomy carriages following each other every
five minutes; which tramway might be crossed and recrossed and run upon,
or, in other words, used by all the other vehicles of London except when
the rightful carriages were in the way? Nothing prevents, save that
same unbelief which has obstructed the development of every good thing
from the time that Noah built the ark! But we feel assured that the
thing shall be, and those who read this book may perhaps live to see it!
But to return. Among these thoughtful and far-seeing men was one Dr
James Anderson, who in 1800 proposed the formation of railways by the
roadsides, and he was so correct in his views that the plans which he
suggested of keeping the level, by going round the base of hills, or
forming viaducts, or cutting tunnels, is precisely the method practised
by engineers of the present day. Two years later a Mr Edgeworth
announced that he had long before, "formed the project of laying iron
railways for baggage waggons on the great roads of England," and, in
order to prevent tear and wear, he proposed, instead of conveying heavy
loads in one huge waggon, to have a train of small waggons. With the
modesty of true genius, which never over-estimates or forms wildly
sanguine expectations, he thought that each waggon might perhaps carry
one ton and a half! Edgeworth also suggested that _passengers_ might
travel by such a mode of conveyance. Bold man! What a goose many
people of his day must have thought him. If they had been alive now,
what geese they might have thought themselves. The Society of Arts,
however, were in advance of their time. They rewarded Edgeworth with
their gold medal.
This man seems to have been a transcendent genius, because he not only
devised and made (on a small scale) iron railways, but proposed to take
ordinary vehicles, such as mail-coaches and private carriages, on his
trucks, and convey them along his line at the rate of six or eight miles
an hour with one horse. He also propounded the idea of the employment
of stationary steam-engines (locomotives not having been dreamed of) to
drag the trains up steep inclines.
Another semi-prophetic man of these days was Thomas Gray, of Leeds, who
in 1820 published a work on what he styled a "General Iron Railway, or
Land Steam Conveyance, to supersede the necessity of Horses in all
public vehicles, showing its vast superiority in every respect over the
present pitiful Methods of Conveyance by Turnpike-Roads and Canals."
Gray, whose mind appears to have been unusually comprehensive, proposed
a system of railway communication between all the important cities and
towns in the kingdom, and pointed out the immense advantage that would
be gained to commerce by such a ready and rapid means of conveying fish,
vegetables, and other perishable articles from place to place. He also
showed that two post deliveries in the day would become possible, and
that fire insurance companies would be able to promote their interests
by keeping railway fire-engines, ready to be transported to scenes of
conflagration without delay.
But Gray was not esteemed a prophet. His suggestions were not adopted
nor his plans acted on, though unquestionably his wisdom and energy gave
an impulse to railway development, of which we are reaping the benefit
to-day. His labours were not in vain.
Horse railways soon began to multiply over the country. The first
authorised by Act of Parliament was the Surrey Railway in 1801. Twenty
years later twenty lines of railway were in operation.
About this time, too, another man of note and of great scientific and
mechanical sagacity lent his powerful aid to advance the interests of
the railway cause. This was Charles Maclaren, of Edinburgh, editor of
the _Scotsman_ newspaper for nearly thirty years. He had long foreseen,
and boldly asserted his belief in, the certain success of steam
locomotion by rail, at a time when opinions such as his were scouted as
wild delusive dreams. But he did more, he brought his able pen to bear
on the subject, and in December 1825 published a series of articles in
the _Scotsman_ on the subject of railways, which were not only
extensively quoted and republished in this country and in America, but
were deemed worthy of being translated into French and German, and so
disseminated over Europe. Mr Maclaren was thus among the foremost of
those who gave a telling impulse to the cause at that critical period
when the Iron horse was about to be put on the rail--the right horse in
the right place--for it was not many years afterwards that that
auspicious event took place. Mr Maclaren not only advocated generally
the adoption of railways, but logically demonstrated the wonderful
powers and capacities of the steam locomotive, arguing, from the
experiments on friction made more than half a century before by Vince
and Colomb, that by the use of steam-power on railroads a much more
rapid and cheaper transit of persons as well as merchandise might be
confidently anticipated. He leaped far ahead of many of even the most
hopeful advocates of the cause, and with almost prophetic foresight
wrote, "there is scarcely any limit to the rapidity of movement these
iron pathways will enable us to command." And again,--"We have spoken
of vehicles travelling at twenty miles an hour; but we see no reason for
thinking that, in the progress of improvement, a much higher velocity
might not be found practicable; and in twenty years hence a shopkeeper
or mechanic, on the most ordinary occasion, may probably travel with a
speed that would leave the fleetest courser behind." Wonderful words
these! At a first glance we may not deem them so, being so familiar
with the ideas which they convey, but our estimate of them will be more
just if we reflect that when they were penned railways had scarcely
sprung into being, steam locomotives had only just been born, and not
only men in general, but even many learned, scientific and practical men
regarded the statement of all such opinions as being little short of
insanity. Nevertheless, many deep-thinking men thought differently, and
one contemporary, reviewing this subject in after years, said of Mr
Maclaren's papers, that, "they prepared the way for the success of
railway projectors."
We have said that the steam locomotive--the material transformer of the
world--our Iron Horse, had just been born. It was not however born on
the rails, but on the common road, and a tremendous baby-giant it was,
tearing up its cradle in such furious fashion that men were terrified by
it, and tried their best to condemn it to inactivity, just as a weak and
foolish father might lock up his unruly boy and restrain him perforce,
instead of training him wisely in the way in which he should go.
But the progenitors of the Iron Horse were, like their Herculean child,
men of mettle. They fought a gallant fight for their darling's freedom,
and came off victorious!
Of course, many men and many nations were anxious to father this
magnificent infant, and to this day it is impossible to say precisely
who originated him. He is said by some to have sprung from the brains
of Englishmen, others assert that brains in France and Switzerland begat
him, and we believe that brother Jonathan exercised his prolific brain
on him, before the actual time of his birth. The first name on record
in connexion with this infant Hercules is that of Dr Robison, who
communicated his ideas to Watt in 1759. The latter thereupon made a
model locomotive, but entertained doubts as to its safety. Oliver
Evans, of Philadelphia, patented a "steam waggon" in 1782. William
Murdoch, the friend and assistant of Watt, made a model in 1787 which
drew a small waggon round a room in his house in Cornwall. In the same
year Symington exhibited a model locomotive in Edinburgh, and in 1795 he
worked a steam-engine on a turnpike-road in Lanarkshire. Richard
Trevethick, who had seen Murdoch's model, made and patented a locomotive
in 1802. It drew on a tramway a load of ten tons at the rate of five
miles an hour. Trevethick also made a carriage to run on common roads,
and altogether did good service in the cause.
Blenkinsop, of Middleton Colliery, near Leeds, made locomotives in 1811
which hauled coals up steep ascents by means of a toothed rail, with a
toothed propelling wheel working into it. This unnatural infant,
however, turned out to be not the true child. It was found that such a
powerful creature did not require teeth at all, that he could "bite"
quite well enough by means of his weight alone,--so the teeth were
plucked out and never allowed to grow again.
After this, in 1813, came Brunton of Butterley, with a curious
contrivance in the form of legs and feet, which were attached to the
rear of his engine and propelled it by a sort of walking motion. It did
not walk well, however, and very soon walked off the field of
competition altogether.
At last, in the fulness of time there came upon the scene the great
railway king, George Stephenson, who, if he cannot be said to have
begotten the infant, at all events brought him up and effectually
completed his training.
George Stephenson was one of our most celebrated engineers, and the
"father of the railway system." He may truly be said to have been one
of mankind's greatest benefactors. He was a self-taught man, was born
near Newcastle in 1781, began life as a pit-engine boy with wages at
two-pence a day, and ultimately rose to fame and fortune as an engineer.
In 1814 he made a locomotive for the Killingworth Colliery Railway. It
drew thirty tons at the rate of four miles an hour, and was regarded as
a great success. In 1825 an engine of the same kind was used on the
Stockton and Darlington Railway, of which Stephenson had been made
engineer.
But the great crowning effort of Stephenson, and the grand impulse to
the railway cause, which carried it steadily and swiftly on to its
present amazing degree of prosperity, did not occur till the year 1829.
Previous to that date the Manchester and Liverpool Railway was being
constructed, and so little was known as to the capabilities of railways
and the best mode of working them, that the directors and engineers had
some difficulty in deciding whether the line should be worked by fixed
engines or by locomotives. It was ultimately decided that the latter
should be used, and a premium of 500 pounds was offered for the best
locomotive that could be produced, in accordance with certain
conditions. These were--That the chimney should emit no smoke--that the
engine should be on springs--that it should not weigh more than six
tons, or four-and-a-half tons if it had only four wheels--that it should
be able to draw a load of twenty tons at the rate of ten miles an hour,
with a pressure of fifty pounds to the square inch in the boiler, and
should not cost more than 500 pounds.
The Iron Horse was now at last about to assume its right position. It
was no longer an infant, but a powerful stripling--though still far from
its full growth; as far as six tons is from sixty!
Four iron steeds were entered to compete for the prize. It was in
October 1829 that this celebrated trial came off, and great was the
interest manifested on the occasion, for not only did the public
entertain doubts as to the capabilities of locomotives, but very few
even of the engineers of the country would admit the possibility of a
locomotive engine attaining a speed greater than ten miles an hour!
First came the "Novelty" of Braithwaite and Ericson; then the "Sans
pareil" of Hawkworth; the "Perseverance" of Burstall; and, lastly, the
"Rocket" of Stephenson. Of the first three we shall merely say that the
"Novelty," being weak in the wheels, broke down; the "Sans pareil" burst
one of her cylinders; and the "Perseverance" turned out to be too heavy
to comply with the conditions of the trial.
The "Rocket" advanced, and was harnessed to a train of waggons weighing
thirteen tons; the fire was lighted, and the steam got up. The valves
lifted at the stipulated fifty pounds pressure, and away it went with
its load at an average speed of fifteen, and a maximum speed of
twenty-nine miles an hour! Thus triumphantly the "Rocket" won the prize
of 500 pounds, and the Iron Horse was fairly and finally married to the
Iron Road. One of the important elements of Stephenson's success lay in
the introduction of numerous tubes into his boiler, through which the
fire, and heat passed, and thus presented a vast amount of heating
surface to the water. Another point was his allowing the waste steam to
pass through the chimney, thus increasing the draught and intensifying
the combustion; for heat is the life of the locomotive, and without much
of this, high rates of speed could not be attained.
The difference between the first locomotive and those now in use is very
great--as may be seen any day in London, by any one who chooses to visit
one of our great railway stations, and go thence to the Kensington
Museum, where the "Rocket" is now enshrined--a memorial of Stephenson's
wisdom, and of the beginning of our magnificent railway system. Yet
though the difference be great it is wonderful how complete the "Rocket"
was, all things considered. The modern improvements made on locomotives
consist chiefly in clothing the boiler with wood, felt, and other
non-conductors to increase the life-giving heat; in heating the
feed-water, coupling the driving-wheels, working the cylinders
horizontally, economising steam by cutting off the supply at any part of
the stroke that may be required, and economising fuel by using raw coal
instead of coke, and consuming the smoke, besides many other minor
contrivances, but all the great principles affecting the locomotive were
applied by George Stephenson, and illustrated in the "Rocket."
It is no wonder that the first Iron Horse was clumsy in appearance and
somewhat grotesque, owing to the complication of rods, cranks, and other
machinery, which was all exposed to view. It required years of
experience to enable our engineers to construct the grand, massive,
simple chargers which now run off with our monster-trains as if they
were feathers. When the iron horse was first made, men were naturally
in haste to ascertain his power and paces. He was trotted out, so to
speak, in his skeleton, with his heart and lungs and muscles exposed to
view in complex hideosity! Now-a-days he never appears without his skin
well-groomed and made gay with paint and polished brass and steel.
We have said that the "Rocket" drew thirteen tons at nearly thirty miles
an hour. Our best engines can now draw hundreds of tons, and they can
run at the rate of above sixty miles an hour at maximum speed. The more
ordinary speed, however, for passenger-trains is from thirty to
forty-five miles an hour. The weight of the "Rocket" was six tons.
That of some of our largest engines with tenders is from forty to above
fifty tons.
From the time of the opening of the old Manchester and Liverpool Railway
in 1830 to the present day--a period of little more than forty years--
railway construction has gone forward throughout the land--and we may
add the world--with truly railway speed, insomuch that England has
become covered from end to end with an absolute network of iron roads,
and the benefit to our country has been inconceivably great. It would
require a large volume to treat of these and correlative subjects, as
they deserve.
Two hundred years ago the course of post between London and Edinburgh
was one month; before an answer could be received two months had to
elapse! About a hundred years later there was one stage-coach between
the two cities, which did the distance in a fortnight, rendering
communication and reply possible once in each month. In those days
roads were uncommonly bad. One writer tells us that, while travelling
in Lancashire, a county now traversed by railways in all directions, he
found one of the principal roads so bad that there were ruts in it,
which he measured, four feet deep, and that the only mending it received
was the tumbling of stones into these holes to fill them up. The
extremely limited goods traffic of the country was conducted by the slow
means of carts and waggons. Enterprising men, however, then as now,
were pushing the world forward, though they were by no means so numerous
then as now. In 1673 it took a week to travel between London and
Exeter, and cost from forty to forty-five shillings. About the same
period a six-horse coach took six days to perform the journey between
Edinburgh and Glasgow and back. To accomplish fifty miles or
thereabouts in two days with a six-horse stage-coach, was considered
good work and high speed about the beginning of last century. Near the
middle of it (1740) travelling by night was for the first time
introduced, and soon after that a coach was started with a wicker-basket
slung behind for outside passengers! Some years afterwards an
enterprising individual started a "flying coach" drawn by eight horses,
which travelled between London and Dover in a day--the fare being one
guinea. Even at the beginning of the present century four miles an hour
was deemed a very fair rate of travelling for a stage-coach.
With the improvement of roads by the famous Macadam in 1816, began
improved travelling and increased speed. The process was rapid.
Mail-coaches began to overrun the country in all directions at the then
remarkable pace of from eight to ten miles an hour,--and, let us remark
in passing, there was a whirl and dash about these stage-coaches which
railway trains, with all their velocity can never hope to attain to,
except when they dash into each other! Man is but a weak creature in
some senses. Facts are scarcely facts to him unless they touch his eye
or ear. The smooth run of a train at twenty or even thirty miles an
hour, with its gradual start and gentle pull up, has but a slight effect
on him now compared with the splendid swing of the well-appointed mail
coach of old as it swept round the bend of a road, and, with red-coated
driver and guard, cracking whip, flying dust and stones, and reeking
foam-flecked horses, dashed into town and pulled up, while at nearly
full speed, amid all the glorious crash and turmoil of arrival! No
doubt the passing of an express train within a yard of your nose is
something peculiarly awful, and if you ever get permission to ride on
the engine of an express, the _real_ truth regarding speed, weight,
momentum, will make a profound impression on you, but in ordinary
circumstances the arrival of a train cannot for a moment compare with
the dash, the animal spirit, the enthusiasm, the romance of the mail
coach of days gone by.
About the time that the day of slow speed was drawing to a close (1837)
licenses were granted to 3026 stage-coaches, of which 1507 went to and
from London, besides 103 mail-coaches. And it has been estimated that
the number of passengers carried in the year about that time was two
millions. In regard to the merchandise traffic of the kingdom, we
cannot give statistics, but we ask the reader to bear in mind that it
was all conducted by means of heavy waggons and slow-going canal barges.
Now, let us contrast this state of things with the condition and
influence of railways up to the present time. As we have said, the iron
horse began his career in 1830 on the Liverpool and Manchester line--
long since become part of the London and North-Western Railway--at that
time thirty-one miles long. Eight years later, Liverpool, Manchester,
and Birmingham were completely connected with London by railway. Then,
as success attended the scheme, new lines were undertaken and opened at
a still more rapid rate until, in 1843--despite the depression caused
for a time by over-speculating--there were nearly 2000 miles of railway
open for traffic. In 1850 there were above 6000 miles open; in 1860,
above 10,000. In 1864 the railways of the kingdom employed upwards of
7200 locomotives, 23,470 passenger carriages, and 212,900 goods and
mineral waggons. In that one year about five million passengers and
goods trains ran 130 millions of miles--a distance that would encircle
the earth 5221 times--the earth being 24,896 miles in circumference. In
1866 the gross receipts of railways was about forty millions of pounds
sterling. At the present date (1871) above 14,000 miles of railway are
open in the United Kingdom. This mileage is divided amongst about 430
companies, but a considerable number of these have been incorporated
with the larger companies, such as the London and North west, the Great
Western, etcetera.
All the lines carried in one year (1870) somewhere about 307 millions of
passengers--in other words, that number of passenger journeys were
performed on them. The mail and stage-coaches in their best days only
conveyed, as we have said, two millions! See note at end of chapter.
It is almost overwhelming to consider what a vast change in the
condition and habits of the people of this country is implied in these
figures. Forty years ago none travelled but the comparatively rich, and
that only to an extent equal to about two-thirds of the present
population of London. Now-a-days the poorest artisan can, and does,
afford to travel, and the number of journeys performed each year on all
our British railways is equal to more than the entire population of
Europe! which, in Stewart's "Modern Geography," is set down at 285
millions. From this of course it follows, that as many thousands of
men, women, and children never travel at all, many others must have
undertaken numerous journeys in that year.
The facilities afforded by railways are altogether innumerable. If so
disposed you may sup one night in the south of England and the next
night in the north of Scotland. Thousands of families dwell in the
country, while the heads thereof go to their business in town by rail
every morning and return home every evening. Huntsmen, booted and
spurred, are whirled off, horses and all, to distant fields, whence,
after "crossing country" all day, they return to the railway and are
whirled back to town in time for dinner. Navvys and artisans are
conveyed to their work at a penny a mile, and monster-trains carry
thousands of excursionists to scenes of rural delight that our fathers
never dreamed of in their wildest flights of fancy.
One of the most remarkable and interesting facts in connexion with all
this is, that although mail-coaches have been beaten off the field,
there are actually more horses employed in this country now than there
were in 1837, while canals are doing more business than they ever did,
and are making higher profits too. In 1865 the carriage of cattle by
railway amounted to between fourteen or fifteen million head of all
kinds. The consumption of coal, in the same year, by our railways
amounted to four million tons, and the quantity of that and other
minerals carried by rail continually is enormous.
The benefit derived by the post-office also from our railways is
incalculable. We cannot afford space to enter into details, but it may
be truly said that but for railways the Post-Office Savings Bank system
could not have existed; and of course, also, our frequent deliveries of
letters and rapid as well as cheap communication with all parts of the
kingdom would have been impossible. The railway service of the
Post-Office is over 60,000 miles a day, and the gross sum paid by the
Post-Office to railways in one year was 570,500 pounds.
These are but a few of the amazing statistics connected with our railway
system, which, if fully enlarged upon, would fill a bulky volume. If
our readers desire more there are several most interesting and
instructive works on the subject, which are well worthy of perusal. See
note 2 at the end of the chapter.
Before closing this perhaps too statistical chapter, we shall say a few
words as to the construction of a railway. No one who has not looked
pretty closely into the subject can form any adequate conception of the
difficulties that beset an engineer-in-chief in the formation of a line
of railway. We will suppose that all the Parliamentary battles have
been fought, opposition overcome, the heavy expenses connected therewith
paid, and the work begun.
The engineer has walked again and again over the country through which
the railway is to be carried and selected the best route, his assistants
having meanwhile taken for him "flying levels" and "cross levels." Too
frequently prejudice, ignorance, and selfishness interpose to prevent
the best route being taken, and immense sums that might have been saved
are spent in constructing the line on the next best route. As soon as
the course of a line is fixed, accurate surveys are made by the
assistant engineers, copies of which are placed, according to Act of
Parliament, with the various clerks of the peace of the counties,
through which the line is to pass, with the Commissioners of Railways
and others, besides which there has to be prepared for each parish its
proportion, and for each landholder a section showing the greatest depth
of cutting or embankment in any of his fields.
As soon as all this has been done, and the Act of Parliament authorising
the line obtained, an accurate plan and section of the whole line is
made, from which the engineer ascertains and lays down its gradients, in
other words its ascents and descents, determines the number and size of
the bridges and viaducts to be made, calculates the quantity of
embankments required to fill up hollows, and the number of cuttings to
level obstructions, in which latter calculations he estimates that the
cutting down of elevations will be made subservient as far as may be, to
the elevation of depressions. All this involves very nice and exact
calculation as to quantity of material, masonry, etcetera, and the
sinking of "trial shafts" to ascertain the nature of the various strata
to be excavated or tunnelled. Then the cost of all the works has to be
estimated in detail, apportioned into lengths and advertised for
execution by contract. To each section of the line thus apportioned--
forty or fifty miles--an experienced engineer is appointed, having under
him "sub-assistants," who superintend from ten to fifteen miles each,
and these again are assisted by "inspectors" of masonry, mining,
earth-work and permanent way, to each of whom a district is assigned.
These managing and guiding men having been appointed, the physical
workers are then called into action, in the form of bands of navvies.
As the steam and mechanism of the locomotive are useless except in
regulated combination, so brain and muscle can achieve nothing without
wise and harmonious union. If boys and men would reflect more deeply on
this great truth, pride, boasting, and the false separation of classes
would be less rife. We say _false_, because there is a separation of
classes which is natural and unavoidable. No one ever complains of
_that_. If ill-advised or angry navvies were to refuse to work, what
could directors and engineers do? If, on the other hand, ill-advised or
angry directors and engineers refused to pay, what could navvies do?
Antagonism is an unhealthy condition of things. There is far too much
of it between employers and employed in this world. "Agree with thine
adversary quickly" is a command which applies to bodies of men quite as
much as to individuals, and the word is "agree," not coerce or force.
If we cannot agree, let us agree to differ; or, if that won't do in our
peculiar circumstances, then let us agree to separate. Fighting, save
in self-defence, is only fit for fools.
But to return. When bone and muscle have been for the time welded to
brain, then the work of construction goes on "full swing." Difficulties
and obstructions are overcome in a way that appears to the unskilled eye
nothing less than miraculous. But the work is often hindered and
rendered greatly more expensive by the sudden appearance of evils
against which no amount of human wisdom or foresight could have guarded.
The Kilsby tunnel of the London and North west Railway is a case in
point. When that tunnel was proposed, it was arranged that it should be
about 3000 yards long, and 160 feet below the surface, with two great
ventilating shafts 60 feet in diameter. It was a gigantic work. The
engineer examined the ground in the usual way, with much care, and then
advertised for "tenders." The various competing contractors also
examined the ground minutely, and the offer of one of them to work it
for 99,000 pounds was accepted. Forthwith the contractor went to work,
and all went well and busily for some time, until it was suddenly
discovered that a hidden quicksand extended 400 yards into the tunnel,
which the trial shafts had just passed without touching. This was a
more tremendous blow to the contractor than most readers may at first
thought suppose, for he believed that to solidify a quicksand was
impossible. The effect on him was so great that he was mentally
prostrated, and although the company generously and justly relieved him
from his engagement, the reprieve came too late, for he died. It then
came to be a question whether or not the tunnel should be abandoned.
Many advised that it should. At this juncture Mr Robert Stephenson,
son of the great George, came forward and undertook the work. He placed
his chief dependence on the steam-engine to keep the water down while
the work was in progress. At first he was successful, but one day,
while the men were busy laying their bricks in cement one of them drove
into the roof, and a deluge of water burst in on them, and although they
tried to continue their work on a raft the water prevailed and at last
drove them out. They escaped with difficulty up one of the air-shafts.
The water having put an effectual stop to the work, the directors felt
disposed to give it up, but Stephenson begged for a fortnight more. It
was granted. By means of thirteen steam-engines, the amazing quantity
of 1800 gallons of water per _minute_ was pumped out of the quicksand
night and day for eight months. With the aid of 1250 men and 200 horses
the work was finally completed, having occupied altogether thirty months
from the laying of the first brick.
Two very singular accidents occurred during the course of the
construction of this tunnel. On one occasion a man who had been working
in it was being hauled up one of the shafts, when his coat caught in an
angular crevice of the partition, that separated the pumps from the
passage for the men, and became so firmly jammed that he was compelled
to let go the rope, and was left there dangling in the air, about a
hundred feet from the bottom, until his horrified comrades went down and
rescued him by cutting away the piece of his coat. This piece of cloth
was long preserved in the engineer's office as a memorial of the event!
On another occasion some men were at work on a platform, half-way down
the shaft, executing some repairs, when a huge navvy, named Jack
Pierson, fell from the surface, went right through the platform, as if
it had been made of paper, and fell to the bottom. Fortunately there
was water to receive him there, else he had been killed on the spot.
The men, whom of course he had narrowly missed in his fall, began to
shout for a rope to those above, and they hallooed their advice down the
shaft in reply. In the midst of the confusion Jack Pierson himself
calmly advised them to make less noise and pull him out, which they very
soon did, and the poor man was carried home and put to bed. He lay
there for many weeks unable to move, but ultimately recovered.
What we have said of the Kilsby tunnel gives a slight glimpse of some of
the expenses, difficulties, and dangers that occasionally attend the
construction of a railway.
Of course these difficulties and expenses vary according to the nature
of the ground. In some places the gradients are slight, bridges few,
and cuttings, etcetera, insignificant; but in other places the reverse
is emphatically the case, and costly laborious works have to be
undertaken.
One such work, which occurred at the very opening of our railway system
in 1828, was the bridging of the Chat Moss, on the Liverpool and
Manchester line. George Stephenson, the constructer of the "Rocket,"
was also the hero of the Chat Moss. This moss was a great swamp or bog,
four miles in extent, which was so soft that it could not be walked on
with safety, and in some places an iron rod laid on the surface would
sink by its own weight. Like many other difficulties in this world, the
solidification of the Chat Moss was said to be impossible, but the great
engineer scarce admitted the propriety of allowing the word "impossible"
to cumber our dictionaries. He began the work at once by forming an
embankment twenty feet high, which he carried some distance across the
treacherous soil, when the whole affair sank down one day and
disappeared! Undismayed, Stephenson began again, and went on steadily
depositing thousands on thousands of tons of earth, which were greedily
swallowed up, until at last a solid foundation was obtained over the
greater part of the bog. But there was a particularly soft part of it,
known by the name of the "flow moss," which was insatiable. Over this
hurdles interwoven with heath were spread, and on these earth and gravel
were laid down. When this road showed a tendency to sink below the
level, Stephenson loaded the moss beyond the track to balance it; when
water oozed through, he invented a new kind of drain-pipe formed of old
tallow casks, headed into each other, and ballasted to keep them down,
and at last the feat was accomplished--the railway was run over the wet
quaking moss on firm dry land.
It was in the formation of this, the true beginning of railways, that
the British "navvy" was called into being. To perform the laborious
work, Stephenson employed the men called "inland navigators," in other
words, the canal excavators. This body of strong "navigators" or
"navvies" formed the nucleus, which gathered recruits from all parts of
the kingdom. As the work of railway making, which thenceforward grew
fast and furious, was unusually severe, only men who were unusually
powerful were suited for the navvy ranks, so that they became a distinct
class of gigantic men, whose capacity for bread and beef was in
accordance with their muscular development and power to toil. Splendid
fellows they were, and are; somewhat rugged and untamed, no doubt, with
a tendency to fight occasionally, and a great deal of genuine kindness
and simplicity. That they are capable of being imbued with refined
feeling, noble sentiment, and love to God, has been shown by the
publications of Miss Marsh, which detail that lady's interesting and
earnest labours to bring the unbelievers among these men to our Saviour.
Another celebrated piece of railway engineering is the _Britannia
Bridge_ over the Menai Straits, which separates Caernarvonshire from the
island of Anglesey. This was the first bridge ever built on the tubular
principle. The importance of crossing the strait was very great, as it
lay in the direct route to Holyhead and Ireland. Telford, the engineer,
daringly resolved to span the strait with a suspension bridge 100 feet
above the water. He began it in 1818, and on the last day of January
1826 the London mail coach passed over the estuary. The bridge remains
to this day a vast and beautiful monument of engineering skill. But
when railways began to play, something more ponderous and powerful
became necessary. A bridge with arches was talked of, but this was
considered likely to be obstructive to the navigation of the strait,
therefore another plan was demanded. At this juncture Robert Stephenson
came forward with a plan. Pounding his opinion on the known fact that
hollow columns are stronger than solid ones; that hollow beams are
better than solid beams, he leaped to the bold conclusion that a hollow
iron beam, or tube, could be made large enough to allow a train to pass
through it! As usual there sprang up a host of cold-waterers, but
thanks to British enterprise, which can dare anything, there were found
enough of men willing to promote the scheme. It was no sooner resolved
on than begun. Massive abutments of stone were raised on each shore to
the height of 100 feet above high-water. The width of the strait
between these abutments is nearly 500 yards. Midway across is the
Britannia Rock, just visible at half tide. The engineer resolved to
found one of his towers on that rock. It was done; but the distance
being too great for a single span of tube, two other towers were added.
The centre towel rises 35 feet higher than the abutments, thus giving to
the tube a very slight arch, which, however, is barely perceptible.
The tubes were rectangular, with double top and bottom made of plates of
wrought-iron, from three-eighths to three-quarters of an inch thick, and
varying in length according to their position--the whole when put
together forming a single tube about 500 yards long. The two centre
ones were the largest and most difficult to manage, each having to be
built on shore, floated off on barges, and lifted by hydraulic power a
height of about 100 feet. Some idea of what this implied may be
gathered from the following fact. Each tube weighed 1800 tons--the
weight of a goodly-sized ocean steamer! A perfect army of men worked at
the building of the tubes; cutting, punching, fitting, riveting,
etcetera, and as the place became the temporary abode of so many
artificers and labourers, with their wives and children, a village
sprang up around them, with shops, a school, and a surgery. Two
fire-engines and large tanks of water were kept in constant readiness in
case of fire, and for many months rivet-making machines, punching
machines, shearing machines, etcetera, were in full work. There were
two million rivets used altogether, and the quantity of
three-quarter-inch iron rod used in making them measured 126 miles. The
total weight of iron used was nearly 12,000 tons. The bridge was
strengthened by eighty-three miles of angle iron. For many months the
outlay in wages alone was 6000 pounds a week, and the cost for the whole
of the works more than 600,000 pounds. A curious fact connected with
this enormous mass of iron is, that arrangements had to be made to
permit of shrinkage and expansion. The tubes were placed on a series of
rollers and iron balls, and it was afterwards found that in the hottest
part of summer they were twelve inches longer than in winter--a
difference which, if not provided for, would have caused the destruction
of the towers by a constant and irresistible pull and thrust! The Menai
Bridge was begun in 1846 and opened for traffic in March 1850.
Space would fail us were we to attempt even a slight sketch of the great
engineering works that railways have called into being. We can merely
point to such achievements as the high-level bridges at
Newcastle-on-Tyne, Berwick-on-Tweed, and at Saltash, over the Tamar.
There are viaducts of great height, length, and beauty in all parts of
the kingdom; there are terminal stations so vast and magnificent as to
remind one of the structures of Eastern splendour described in the
_Arabian Nights Entertainments_; and there are hundreds of miles of
tunnelling at the present time in the United Kingdom.
The Metropolitan Railway is the most important and singular of these
tunnels--for it is entitled to be regarded as a gigantic tunnel--which
burrows under the streets of London.
This stupendous work was undertaken in order to relieve the traffic in
the streets of London. The frequent blocks that used to occur not many
years ago in the main thoroughfares of the Metropolis, had rendered
relief absolutely necessary. When the increase of railways began to
pour human beings and goods from all parts of the kingdom into London in
a continuous and ever-increasing stream, it became obvious that some new
mode of conveyance must be opened up. After much deliberation as to the
best method, it was finally resolved that an underground railway should
be made, encircling the Metropolis, so that travellers arriving from all
points of the compass might find a ready and sufficient means of
conveyance into the central parts of the city. There was opposition to
the scheme, of course; but, through the persevering energy of the
solicitor to the undertaking and others, the work was at length begun,
and the line opened for traffic in January 1863. Its extraordinary
success soon proved the wisdom of its promoters.
At first it was thought that the chief revenues would be derived from
the conveyance of goods from the west to the eastern districts of
London, but its enormous passenger traffic eventually became the chief
cause of its great prosperity. In the very first year of its opening
the number of passengers who travelled by it between Farringdon Street
and Bishop's Road, Paddington, amounted to nearly nine and a half
millions of individuals, which is more than three times the entire
population of London--also, let us add, more than three times the entire
population of Scotland!
The number of trains which are constantly following each other in quick
succession (at times every two or three minutes) on this magnificent
railway has rendered a most perfect system of signalling necessary, as
well as a working staff of superior intelligence and activity. The
drivers are all picked men, and indeed it is obvious to every one who
travels by it that the porters, and guards, and all employed on the line
are unusually smart men. The engineering difficulties connected with
the Metropolitan railway were very great as may easily be believed,
seeing that it had to be formed under streets whose foundations were
unavoidably shaken, and amongst an infinite ramification of gas and
water-pipes and sewers whose separate action had to be maintained intact
while the process of construction was going on. Some of the stations
are most ingeniously lighted from the streets above by bright reflecting
tile-work, while others, too deep for such a method, or too much
overtopped with buildings to admit of it, are lit perpetually with gas.
The whole of the works are a singular instance of engineering skill,
reflecting great credit on Mr Fowler, the engineer-in-chief. Despite
its great length of tunnelling the line is perfectly dry throughout.
At first fears were entertained that human beings could not with safety
travel through such tunnels as were here formed, but experience has
proved those fears, like many others, to have been groundless, and a
very thorough analysis of the atmosphere of the line in all
circumstances, and by the most competent men of the day, has
demonstrated that the air of the Metropolitan railway is not injurious
to health. The excellent general health of the employes also affords
additional and conclusive testimony to this fact even although it is
unquestionably true that there is at times a somewhat sulphurous smell
there.
This thorough ventilation, of course, could only have been achieved by
ingenious arrangements and a peculiar construction of the engines,
whereby the waste steam and fumes of the furnaces should be prevented
from emitting their foul and sulphurous odours. The carriages are
brilliantly lighted with gas, contained in long india-rubber bags on
their roofs, and the motion of the trains is much gentler than that of
ordinary railways, although they travel at the rate of from fifteen to
twenty miles an hour, including stoppages,--a rate, be it observed,
which could not have been ventured on at all but for the thorough and
effective system of telegraphic and semaphore signalling employed, to
indicate from station to station the exact state of the line--as to
trains--at all times. On the whole the Metropolitan Railway has proved
one of the most useful and successful undertakings of modern times. See
Note 3 at the end of the chapter.
In reference to foreign railways, we have only space to say that there
are works as grand, and as worthy of note, as any of which we can boast;
and it is with much regret that we feel constrained to do no more than
point to such magnificent undertakings as the _Mont Cenis_ Railway,
which ascends and tunnels through the Alps; and that stupendous line,
the Union Pacific Railroad, 3000 miles in length, formed by the daring
and enterprising Americans, by means of which the prairies and the Rocky
Mountains are made of no account and New York is brought within seven
days of San Francisco! The engineering works on the Sommering Railway,
between Vienna and Trieste; the mighty Victoria Tubular Bridge at
Montreal; the railway bridge over Niagara; the difficulties encountered
and overcome in India; the bold achievements of railway engineers amid
the dizzy heights and solitudes of the Andes--all these subjects must be
passed over in silence, else our readers will, we fear, come to the
conclusion that we have lost command of the Iron Horse altogether,
allowed him to take the bit in his teeth and fairly run away.
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Note 1. Many readers may find it difficult to form an adequate
conception of such a vast number as 307 millions. It may help one to
some idea of it to know that, if a man were to devote himself to count
it, one by one,--sitting down after breakfast counting at the rate of
one every moment, and working without intermission for eight hours every
day, excepting Sundays,--he would not conclude his task until the
thirty-fifth year.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note 2. We would refer them particularly to Messrs. W. and R. Chambers'
comprehensive and popularly written work on "Railways, Steamer, and
Telegraphs;" Money's "Rambles on Railways," which bristles with figures
and swarms with anecdote; "Stokers and Pokers," by Sir Francis Head, a
capital and very full work, though somewhat old; W.B. Adams' "Roads and
Rails," and Bremrer's "Industries of Scotland."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note 3. We had intended to devote much larger space to this most
interesting line, but the nature of our book forbids it. We quit the
subject regretfully; referring the reader, who may desire to know more,
to an able notice of the Metropolitan Railway in "The Shops and
Companies of London," edited by Henry Mayhew.