CHAPTER VI.

RAILWAY RECEIPTS, WORKING EXPENSES, AND PROFITS IN THE UNITED

KINGDOM—DELAYS AND ACCIDENTS.

However vastly the United Kingdom has been benefited by railways, we

shall show presently that it is far otherwise with those who have

invested their money in their construction. Those first opened in

England were, no doubt, profitable to their shareholders, because they

were great arterial lines that connected the leading places of the

Kingdom together. Along such lines there always had been large traffic,

and it was no doubt greatly stimulated by the facilities which the new

mode of locomotion afforded for its expansion. But as fresh railways

were completed, and as the capital invested in them increased, the

profits receded. Even at the present time, with larger receipts per

mile than have ever been taken, the position of railway investment is

almost from every point of view, unsatisfactory.

The tide of the early prosperity of railways began to turn in 1840.

Proceeding at once to the middle of 1843, we learn that at that date

the amount of capital invested was £76,280,000, and the gross traffic

receipts were only £4,535,189. If 45 per cent. be deducted for working

expenses, the amount for division among investors was only £2,494,358.

If one-third of the capital invested be considered debenture capital

bearing an interest of not more than 4 per cent., it leaves only

£1,391,360 for dividend upon £51,000,000, or a little more than 2½ per

cent.

In 1848 the capital invested in British railways was £152,640,000,

the gross traffic receipts were £9,933,552. Deducting 45 per cent.

for working expenses—amount £4,660,097,—a balance of £5,273,455 is

available for division among investors. Taking one-third of the capital

paid up as debenture capital, bearing interest at only 4 per cent., it

leaves £3,021,455 for dividend upon £100,760,000 of share capital, or

at the rate of less than 3 per cent.

At the end of 1853, the capital paid up was £273,324,514 and the

traffic receipts had risen to £18,035,879. The working expenses, at

45 per cent. of the receipts, were £8,116,151, leaving £9,919,728

available for division, but between 1848 and 1853 the rate of interest

upon debentures rose to fully 5 per cent. Taking, as before, one-third

of the capital paid up, as debenture capital, it leaves £5,364,320 for

dividend upon £182,216,343 of share capital, or at the rate of a little

less than 3 per cent.

Five years later—at the end of 1858—the capital paid up was

£325,375,507; the traffic receipts were £23,956,749; the working

expenses, £11,668,225. Taking the debenture capital as one-third of

the whole, it leaves £6,245,310 for dividend upon £216,917,205 share

capital—or a very little less than 3 per cent. But as by 1858, fully 25

per cent. of the share capital was preferential, and bore a dividend on

the average of 5 per cent., there remains, after payment of a dividend

upon this capital of £2,711,450, only £3,533,860 for division upon the

£162,687,905 “ordinary” or unguaranteed share capital, that was then

invested in railways—not quite 2¼ per cent.

On the 31st December, 1863, the capital paid up was £404,215,802; the

traffic receipts were £31,156,397; the working expenses, £15,027,234.

The amount of debenture capital, taken as usual at a third of the

total capital, was £134,738,600, the interest upon it, at 5 per

cent., £6,736,930. Deducted from £16,129,163, the amount of the total

net receipts, £9,392,233 remains for dividend upon £269,477,202 share

capital, or nearly 3½ per cent. This would be satisfactory, as compared

with the amount divisible upon share capital in previous years; but,

unfortunately, the amount of preferential, in proportion to total share

capital, had not only increased considerably between 1853 and 1863, but

the rate of dividend had also advanced. The London and North-Western

issued some at 5, the Lancashire and Yorkshire at 6; so also the

London, Brighton and South Coast, then one of the most highly thought

of companies for investment; and the London and South-Western, a

company established, apparently, upon a very solid basis, had to issue

preference capital at as high as 7 per cent. Nevertheless, although for

present calculation, and for that of 1865, next to follow, one-third

of the share capital is considered as preference capital, the rate is

taken as not raised higher than 5½ per cent. £4,940,414 must therefore

be deducted as dividend on preference capital, leaving only £4,451,819

for division upon £179,651,468, or at the rate of just under 2½ per

cent. But as several of the companies—many of them large ones—paid

dividends of 4, 5, 5½, 6, 6½, and some few as high as 7 per cent., a

considerable portion of ordinary share capital received at the rate of

1 and 1½ per cent., and an equally large portion did not receive, as is

well known, any dividend at all.

We close our recapitulations with the year 1865, the latest to which

the published returns of the Board of Trade extend. On the 31st of

December of that year the total capital paid up was £455,478,143;

the traffic receipts[53] were £35,890,113; the working expenses,

£17,149,073; the amount of the debenture capital, taken, as before,

at a third of the whole, was £151,826,044, the interest upon it, at

five per cent. was £7,591,302. Deducted from £18,602,582 the amount

of the total net receipts, £11,011,280 remains for dividend upon the

total share capital, which amounted to £303,652,099, equal to £3.

13s. per hundred pounds.[54] But deducting £5,566,900, dividend upon

£101,218,000 as preference share capital, 5½ per cent., there remain

only £5,444,380 for dividend upon £192,434,000, or at the rate of £2.

16s. 10d. for each £100 invested. What was stated at the conclusion of

the calculations of 1863 applies with at least equal force to 1865,

very small dividends for a very considerable portion of railway share

capital, and none at all for at least an equal amount.

On the 31st of March, 1866, the National Debt of the United Kingdom

was composed as follows: funded, £773,313,219; the estimated capital

of terminable annuities £23,351,043; unfunded, £7,956,800; total,

£804,842,949,[55] or only £349,364,806 more than the total of railway

investments at that period. The “interest and management” of the

national debt in the year ending the 31st March, 1866, was £26,233,288;

but as the Banks of England, of Ireland, and of Scotland, are the chief

managers of the debt, in exchange for privileges accorded to them,

the item for management cannot be great—not sufficient to reduce the

average rate of interest below £3. 5s. per £100 invested. The case,

therefore, stands thus, if viewed as between the creditors of the

British nation and the investors (apart from debenture and preference

shareholders) in the railway capital of the United Kingdom: the former

receive interest guaranteed on the faith, credit, and honour of the

most powerful nation—at all events commercially—in the world, eight

shillings per cent. per annum more than those who have embarked their

money in commercial enterprises that, in our opinion at all events,

have been second only to Free Trade[56] in achieving the present

commercial grandeur of England.

There is not an article of commerce that the railway cannot move—does

not move; there is not an article of commerce that the railway does not

move at speed never less than eight and generally ten times as great as

it was by canal, until competition stimulated the pace of the latter.

To what extent? From the once normal rate of two to that of three miles

an hour—no more. But now, the merchant of London, who a few years ago

could not have what he required from the manufacturing towns of the

north in less than ten days, receives in the morning, goods that were

in the warehouses of Manchester, Leeds, Sheffield, or any other of

such-like towns in the north of England on the previous afternoon.

The important consumers of timber, 150 to 180 miles from London attend

sales there, in preference to places nearer home, and purchase largely,

with such advantage that the difference of price pays the difference

of railway carriage three and four times over. We once saw chests of

tea, that on a fluctuation of markets to the extent of a half-penny a

pound, passed twice from Liverpool to London and twice back again.

They were enabled to be moved about in this way because collection,

carriage and delivery cost £1. 10s. a ton, or at the rate of a fourth

of a half-penny a pound for 200 miles. Fish circulates through the

small as well as the great arterial systems of the kingdom with the

regularity and precision of the post, because it is unceasingly carried

from the fishing ports inland by the fastest trains and by those that

convey the mail bags. The Irish railways alone transported 1,092

tons of salmon last year—301 tons more than in 1865,—and now, with

our protected fisheries, this amount will be rapidly added to. Ice,

an article of modern commerce, is already beginning to find its way

south by means of the railway, and there is not the slightest reason

why elevated Northern Scotland should not _grow_ the commodity, just

as it has for many years been made to grow in Massachusetts, and more

recently in Norway.[57] It is unnecessary to pursue this subject, for

we each of us see, know, and feel that the railway is the great and

grand distributor of whatever we require for our wants, and of all that

energy and enterprise require for the development of national industry.

And, as regards personal locomotion, how grand and sublime are the

powers of the railway. We leave Edinburgh to-night. We travel warmly

in the cold season; luxuriously at all seasons, and with complete

unconsciousness of the fact that as each hour passes, we are nearly

forty miles farther from our starting point. The break at London in the

morning gives us the margin necessary for ablution and refreshment;

that evening we are in Paris, in ample time, and some to spare, for

starting by any of the rapid trains that convey passengers and mails

east, south, and west. If our destination be the Mediterranean, we are

at Marseilles at noon the next day, exactly 41 hours from the time

we had left Edinburgh; yet, Edinburgh, by railway, combined with a

short sea passage, and Marseilles, are exactly 1,239 miles apart. Our

pace, including breaks and stops, has been over thirty miles an hour,

whilst getting over the whole distance; excluding the breaks and stops,

five and thirty. We can commence the ascent of an Alpine pass, or one

across the Pyrenees, precisely at the same time as we should reach the

Mediterranean, had our destination been in that direction.

In 1834, when the late Duke of Wellington despatched Mr. Hudson,

belonging to one of the Government offices, to Rome, to inform Sir

Robert Peel that he had been called upon by King William IV. to form

a Ministry on the compulsive retirement of Lord Melbourne and his

colleagues,[58] it was thought a marvel that the messenger was able

to complete his journey on the twelfth day from that on which he left

London. Bound on an analagous mission, a Mr. Hudson of the present day,

would be a sluggard indeed, if he occupied even a quarter of twelve

days. Without the superscription, such as our ancestors (who could

write) put on their letters, “Haste! post haste!”[59] one put quietly

into a London post office “receptacle” on a Monday morning, would, as

the clock of St. Peter’s[60] was tolling 9·45 on Wednesday evening, be

found within the precincts of the Eternal City. The distance? 1,355

miles.

But why need we multiply instances. Let us then pass to say a word

or two about what railways have done for the humbler part of our

population. Have they not attained facilities for their pursuits as

well as for their enjoyments that were not dreamt of thirty,—twenty

years ago? How prosperous the working classes now are; their labour is

at a premium, and in demand such as it has never before experienced.

They have never been remunerated so handsomely, and they have earned

their pay with shorter hours, better ventilation, better food and more

of it, than they ever had before. Unions and combinations, however

deplorable in their course of action, at all events, are signs and

manifestations of power;[61] and, now-a-days, we find combinations

and strikes extended even to agricultural labourers. Why? Because

they know—stupid, heavy, unintelligent, and unenlightened though they

may be—that, thanks to the railway, they can get at least as good

employment elsewhere as in their own villages and hamlets. The farmer

knows—feels—and, farmer-like, grumbles at this, but he also knows,

that, thanks to free trade, and thanks to cheap railway conveyance,

he is enabled to obtain, in the first instance, the highest possible

fertilisation for his land, and, in the second, when his crops are

gathered, that he can dispose of them, notwithstanding immense cereal

and other eatable imports, in markets far distant, and at prices which

not only leave him nothing to complain of, but much to be satisfied

with. We no longer hear the old party cries, “Protection to native

industry,” and such like. The modern cultivator does not require the

protection which the old law gave him. He finds he can protect himself

in a far better manner without it.

Material prosperity is spread broad-cast over the land. It is true we

have recently had a financial crash, and a financial crisis; but we

have had no crush, nor are we going to have one. It is also true that

our exports for the first six months of this year are, as a consequence

of somewhat diminished trade, less than they were in the corresponding

period of 1866. But, how much are they less? Not 7 per cent. of their

gross aggregate. They are, however, 3 per cent. better than they were

for the like time one year previously; and, note also, that they

are in those six months, £2,000,000 more than they were in the whole

_twelve_ months of fifteen years ago.

The twin sisters of progress in our day, are free trade and the

railway. Both are universal as regards application; both are expansive

and ever expanding. They always advance, they never recede. Free Trade,

however, is, so to speak, national, or of the nation as an abstract. It

requires for its world-spread development no more than that trade shall

avail itself of the advantages which unfettered intercourse between

nations imparts. The railway is the commercial reality of everyday

life. Its existence cannot be started without aggregated capital. It

then becomes the earnest, visible, and ever-working bee in the hive,

and by the means which it places at the disposal of all, not only are

intercourse and interchange facilitated between nations, but among

ourselves movement is giant-like and unceasing, not only for ourselves

actually, but for everything that pertains to us in our wants and

necessities, no matter under what classification they may be placed.

A grand prosperity has been achieved for the nation, but the gold to

which much of its accomplishment is due has proved unfruitful. The

fact, undoubted, need only thus be recorded. Others can say of it what

they please as a grievance.

It may be said, and no doubt it is said, that want of success in

railway investments has arisen from extravagance and mismanagement.

Undoubtedly the assertion is in part correct as regards both the

origination and the construction of most of our railways, but the

incompetence of Parliament, its unfitness as a tribunal (notably so

in the case of Lord Libeller), and the false system it has fostered,

have contributed a much larger share than the other two elements to the

present ill-favoured and unsatisfactory position of railways.

“Ah! but the working of railways! There, at all events, we have you.”

“See how defective it is. See the innumerable complaints constantly

appearing in the papers about want of punctuality. See the frightful

accidents that are occurring.” “Yes; it is quite true that delays occur

to trains. Nay, more, let it be granted that they are frequent—but

frequent in proportion to what?—to the number of trains that are

running night and day throughout every part of the kingdom?” “Yes.”

But the answer to that is—in 1865 3,448,509 passenger trains ran in

the United Kingdom, which is at the rate of 10,387 trains each week

day, and half that number is assumed as the number on Sundays, and on

Christmas Day and Good Friday. Fewer long trains travel on Sundays

than on week days, but on short urban and suburban railways the trains

are, except during the hours of divine service, as numerous as on week

days. Besides the passenger trains there were, in 1865, 2,108,198 goods

trains, heavily laden with merchandise and minerals, or at the rate

of 6,060 trains on each week day, and half that number on Sundays,

Christmas Day and Good Friday, making a total each day of 16,447. At

the end of 1865 there were, as has been frequently stated in these

pages, 13,289 miles of railway open for traffic; at present (October,

1867) the number of miles is fully 14,300, and there cannot be less

than 13,000 passenger trains a day. The proportion of trains arriving

late to trains arriving to time is not three per cent. throughout the

whole kingdom, and of those, nine-tenths are not more than fifteen

minutes behind time. The average number of persons travelling each

week day throughout the year is nearly 800,000; of these the very

utmost that are detained beyond fifteen minutes is 3,000; so that for

every 300 persons who travel per diem one must expect, on the doctrine

of averages, to be over fifteen minutes late, and one out of every

thirty-four passengers may be a few minutes over time. Judging by

the tone and the language of many of the letters of complaint which

appear in newspapers, if we could suppose such a person as one utterly

ignorant of everything relating to railways, he would believe that the

officials experience a special pleasure and enjoyment when trains are

irregular. Let us, in reply, assure that excellent and ignorant person

that there is nothing more abhorrent (with only one exception, to which

we shall refer immediately) to railway nature than want of regularity

and precision. They are to him precisely as the _vacuum abhorendum_ of

Nature, Pan-Anglican and Pan-Mundal.[62] In everyday life, if things

go punctually and precisely with us, the whole of our machinery,

both corporeal and physical, works pleasantly, without trouble and

without difficulty. And so it is on the railways—as long as there

are punctuality and regularity all goes right. It is, therefore, the

fact that the unceasing efforts of the staff of every railway company

in the kingdom are unremittingly directed to ensuring punctuality to

trains, as far as human nature can ensure it. It is the interest of the

officials of every grade to have everything on the line working with

the precision and fidelity of clockwork. The slightest irregularity

at any part of a line at once brings an accession of labour and of

responsibility upon the shoulders of every official, be he high or

low, connected with it. But happily Englishmen, among whom, of course,

we include Scotchmen and Irishmen, placed in positions of trust and

responsibility have always acted, and always will act, as Englishmen

ought to act—from a consideration that influences them above all other

considerations, a sense of duty. Hence no effort that railway officials

can make is wanting when irregularities occur. But human means and

human appliances break down at the moment least expected; no ingenuity,

no foresight can prevent them. The weather, a slight shower of rain,

which renders rails slippery at starting; a heated axle, caused by a

few particles of grit getting into an axle box, notwithstanding the

minute precautions taken to prevent such an incident; the delays,

confusion, and blunders of passengers themselves,—an old lady insisting

vehemently that she gave her little box with “my best bonnet in it,”

to the guard, whilst she had taken it into the compartment, and in

her flurry, agitation, or absence of mind[63] at the prospect of

her coming to her station, had forgotten that she had at starting

placed it on the seat beside her; at ticket collecting and ticket

examining platform—for, alas! the prevalence of fraud and dishonesty

among—we regret to say, and the remark only applies to a very few as

compared with the general mass of travellers—all classes of ticket

holders—renders occasional examination of them necessary;[64] but,

of course, the most frequent cause of delay on railways proceeds

from—without which the railway would he nothing at all—the engines.

As is well known, all engines are made of the best materials of every

description; but it is not so generally known that—according to the

testimony of Sir Francis Head in 1849, and of the late Mr. Robert

Stephenson, M.P., in 1866—a locomotive consists of 5,416 pieces, all

of which, although indebted to machinery for a large portion of the

work of their construction, have, nevertheless, each and every one of

them, to pass through human hands, and they have to be fitted and put

together as carefully as the machinery of a first-class watch. From

the moment that a locomotive commences duty she is examined daily by

competent and skilled men, whose object is to detect, not only the

slightest flaw, but the slightest indication that may lead to one;

and if either be detected, to substitute another locomotive which

has successfully gone through the ordeal of rigid examination. The

engine-driver and firemen are also on the alert, for they know what the

consequences may be to them if a break down or accident take place.

Yet, in spite of unceasing watchfulness, portions of the machinery of

an engine will give way, at places, too, never expected. An engine may

apparently be doing her duty admirably, when all of a sudden a tube—a

great artery of her internal organisation—bursts. With us weak mortals

an internal artery bursting lays us low for ever; and, although so dire

a fate does not attend the engine, she is, for all the purposes that

she was engaged upon at the moment of her disaster, as practically dead

as if she had never been gifted with motive power. No human foresight

can prevent these and similar, although minor, accidents to engines, no

more than we can tell whether the apparently healthy and vigorous man

of the morning may not be the cold and lifeless corpse of the afternoon.

Yes, as long as we are human, and must depend upon human means (no

matter how apparently complete and perfect they may be) for the

fulfilment of our purposes, unrehearsed and unexpected incidents,

leading to disappointment, annoyance, and vexation, are alike

inevitable and unceasing. And so it is we have not, and never can have,

PERFECTION on railways; but we have the nearest possible approach to

it in all that relates to their working. This is a sentence that may

possibly—nay, more probably will—excite the terrible susceptibility

of the _genus_ which, without being “of the poets,” is, nevertheless,

vastly irritable—the great and magnificent British public. Why, the

very losses of temper we display whilst we exact perfection in others,

is proof that we are a long way from possessing it ourselves. Should

we not remember one of the earliest lessons taught us by our Saviour,

from whom nothing but goodness and wisdom could ever flow?—“He that

is without sin among you let him first cast a stone.” Cast the stone

when you yourselves are perfect; without sin of thought or sin of

action. But do we not witness daily, hourly, at each instant, that

perfection does not belong to any of us? But let all men be assured of

this—not on the testimony of quacks and nostrum-mongers, but on the

undoubted evidence of fact—fact which is truth, pure, consistent, and

unadulterated—that there does not exist in any one of the innumerable

organisations, ramifications, aggregations, or embodiments throughout

the empire a class of men that is more earnestly devoted to produce

that near approach to perfection just referred to than among the well,

yet often unjustly, abused humble servants of the railway community;

for it is upon these men, in its last resource, that the public must

depend for everything. At the stations of large towns and cities their

individuality is naturally not so much noticed—or it might perhaps

be more correctly stated, not so much known—as at smaller stations,

being more completely mixed up in the immense human leaven of great

populations. Still those of the public who frequent large stations know

some of the men—inspectors, guards, and porters. They respect them;

and if inquiry be made of the minister of the faith to which each man

belongs, he will be able to assert of more than nine-tenths of them,

that each carries the moral discipline which he has learned on the

railway into the transactions of his inner life. Besides attending at

his place of worship, his little home is clean and respectable; his

children are brought up—as they should be brought up—with respect for

religion, with steady attendance at the school; and when the hours of

play come round they are not the less ready, on occasion, to give or to

receive the pummelling which every real English boy is ready to give or

to receive, and is all the better therefor into the bargain.

Go to country stations; but before going there let one fact be stated,

that the process of “winnowing” on railways, or separating the grist of

the staff from the chaff, is always going on; that is, the men who do

not come up to the standard—not of height, for on many railways this

qualification is not regarded—but of moral and physical quality, are

unceasingly being got rid of, or leaving the railway by discharging

themselves.

At the country station is there a man of the district, of his sphere

of life, that is more respected, or that enlists a larger amount of

sympathy among all classes, than the station master? Cordial good

feeling and considerate kindness are extended to every one of the

persons that are subordinate to him. Why? There is not a man or woman

of the land, high or low, rich or poor, “gentle or simple,” who has

either visited or who resides adjacent to a country station, that

cannot answer the question, in language of the heart, much warmer than

any that it would be right for us to make use of.

But accidents? Yes, and let it here be stated broadly that when they do

occur, they are, of course, harrowing to the minds of the public, but,

it must be added, they are infinitely more so to railway officials.

They are of a fearful character when they do happen, but, happily, they

are not very frequent.

We proceed to give an account of them for the years from 1861 to 1865,

both inclusive.

In the first-named year there were (including the estimation of 100

journeys as taken by each periodical ticket-holder, and they are

included in this proportion in the calculation for the subsequent

years) 178,929,039[65] passengers, of whom 46, or one in every three

and three-quarter millions carried, were killed, and 781, or one in

every quarter of a million, were injured from causes beyond their own

control; 33, or one for every five millions and a half carried, were

killed from their own misconduct or want of caution.

In 1862, 186,094,671 passengers were carried, of whom 26, or one in

every seven millions carried, were killed, and 536, or one in every

333,000 persons carried, were injured from causes beyond their own

control; and 9, or one in every twenty millions and a quarter carried,

from their own misconduct or want of caution.

In 1863, 211,074,175 passengers were carried, of whom 14, or one for

every fifteen millions carried, were killed, and 400, or one for every

550,000 carried, were injured, from causes beyond their own control;

and 21, or nearly one for every ten millions carried, from their own

misconduct or want of caution.

In 1864, 236,922,065 passengers were carried, of whom 15, or one for

every fifteen and three-quarter millions carried, were killed, and 698,

or one for every 350,000 carried, were injured from causes beyond

their own control; and 21, or one for a little more than every eleven

millions carried, from their own misconduct or want of caution.

In 1865, 261,577,415 passengers were carried, of whom 23, or 1 in every

eleven and a half millions carried, were killed, and 698, or 1 in every

380,000 carried, were injured from causes beyond their own control; and

13, or 1 in every twenty millions carried, from misconduct, or want of

caution.

If the several figures above stated be added together, it will be seen,

that whilst 1,094,597,385 passengers were carried on English railways

in five years, the number of persons killed from causes beyond their

own control, that is, through some accident, neglect, omission, or

commission on the part of the railway companies, was 124; and the

number injured, in consequence of one of the foregoing reasons, was

3,449. Of these persons, although many were serious sufferers, the

great bulk received injuries from the effects of which they were cured

in a few weeks,—several in a few days. In the same five years, 97

passengers were killed from misconduct or imprudence.

In addition to the numbers enumerated in the foregoing statement, a

great many persons, not passengers, are killed, either by trespassing

on the railway, walking on it at forbidden places, or _by suicide_.

In 1865, their numbers were—killed, 76; injured, 351. Many railway

servants are killed or injured each year, mainly, we regret to say,

through their own imprudence. In 1865, 122 were killed, and 83 injured.

The above catalogue is, undoubtedly, a melancholy one; one that it

would, of course, have been all the better if it could have been

avoided. But this, we say with deep sorrow and regret, is impossible.

In the first place, as long as the working details of railways depend

upon human hands and human heads, we shall have accidents. Some of

the worst accidents that have taken place on railways have been

caused by the sudden failure, not of presence of mind, for there was

no circumstance of a peculiar nature to require it, but by an utter

failure, a total absence, as it were, of mind, just at the very

moment that, by no means a great, but still some, mental exertion or

exercise of mind was requisite. Signal-men, perhaps the most careful

and cautious persons in railway service—men selected for the position,

after much previous drill, in consequence of superior steadiness,

sobriety, and good conduct—find, too late, from some cause utterly

unexplainable, that the lever of “points,” or of a signal has been

turned to the left when it should have been turned to the right, or

_vice versâ_. Fearful accidents occur from the machinery of the engine

suddenly giving way, in consequence of which it leaves the rails, and

the carriages behind it follow, and pile themselves one above another

in a manner that is incredible to those who have not seen them. Other

accidents arise from a sudden failure of portions of the permanent

way; yet, possibly, the same permanent way has been carefully looked

at by completely competent men only half-an-hour previous to the

accident; for it may be mentioned, that there is no part of a railway

road-bed that is not thoroughly examined every morning. In a line

that is well signalled—and it may be taken for fact that there is no

railway in the kingdom upon which there are not at present efficient

signals—accidents are not the result of delays, although there is a

very general belief in the minds of the public that it is otherwise. In

two recent instances, accidents of a calamitous nature have been the

result of a rail being taken up and not replaced before a train has

come upon the spot; this description of accident having been chiefly

caused by permanent-way signal-men not going sufficiently far back

with the flag danger-signal to enable a train to be brought to a

stand-still before arriving at the spot where the line is interrupted,

other precautions have been added, which now render an accident from

this cause nearly impossible. But many of the fearful collisions,

the terrible accounts of which shock the public mind from time to

time, are caused by combinations of circumstances and incidents so

extraordinary and unusual, that it is hard to conceive, on the doctrine

of combinations, how they could occur. They do occur, nevertheless; and

all that can be said with respect of them is, that the circumstances

of every railway accident are carefully read and studied by every

traffic manager, and most station masters, in order that a lesson or a

caution may be obtained for future guidance. But these accidents will

continue to occur—there are, we fear, no real means yet discovered to

prevent them—and all that can be hoped for as regards the future is,

that as experience of what are in short almost impossible circumstances

is accumulating, we may perhaps arrive at an epoch where no further

incidents of this character can be combined together for human

destruction on railways.

What has been already said with reference to the earnestness of

railway officials to prevent delays, applies with tenfold additional

force to their never-ceasing anxiety to avoid accidents. There is no

possible precaution that can be taken, which is not taken to endeavour

to prevent them. In every way they are disastrous; they not only

create intense personal suffering and misery, they are not only a

risk to employés, because at any moment, from an act of imprudence or

forgetfulness, employés may be the cause of them, and thereby render

themselves liable to punishments that extend even to penal servitude;

but even _after_ their occurrence they become to them a source of

immediate and immense responsibility. The line must at once, quick

almost as the flash of lightning, be protected against trains coming

in either direction; the killed and wounded must be removed, and those

to whom life still belongs must be attended to with the most earnest

solicitude; arrangements must be made, and carried into execution

without a moment’s delay, so as to render the line fit for traffic

again in the shortest period that human hands, aided with hearty

good-will, can accomplish; all these duties must, nevertheless, be

executed in the midst of scenes of havoc and misery that are enough

to unnerve and prostrate most men, with as much coolness and _sang

froid_ as if the man’s services at the moment were not more important

than attaching an additional carriage to a train, in consequence of an

unusual accession of traffic at a station, or the performance of some

other such like formal piece of everyday duty.

But beyond all these considerations, there is one that cannot, when

referring to the subject of railway accidents, be overlooked, or

passed by without comment—their cost. In 1865, no less than £333,533

were paid in compensation by railway companies, in consequence of

railway accidents. If to this amount be added £200,000, for destruction

of rolling stock and road, the heavy expense involved in their

re-establishment or replacement, the enormous law costs to which the

companies are subjected in settling claims or in defending actions,

mounts up the total amount of actual expenditure, owing to these

fearful occurrences, to upwards of half-a-million sterling, or nearly

1¼ per cent. on the total capital expended on railways. To this amount

might also be added loss of receipts which always occur to a railway

immediately after the occurrence of a serious accident. From the one

cause of cost, without seeking to find any other reasons, railway

companies have good reasons to dread railway accidents.

Yet considering the immense amount of persons carried, the numbers

killed or wounded is small as compared with the numbers of those who

are sufferers from accidents to which we are all liable all over the

kingdom. Taking the metropolis only, there were 375 persons killed in

the year 1862, of whom 171 came to sudden death within city limits, the

remainder being the casualties of this description for all the other

parts of London.[66] If we refer to the Wreck Register of the Board

of Trade, for 1866, we will see that, whilst the number of wrecks and

casualties to ships[67] from all causes, on or near the coasts of the

United Kingdom was 1,860 (just 251 more than the average of shipwrecks

for the last five years, and 322 more than the average for ten years),

the number of the lives lost was 896.[68] It is estimated that 500,000

persons navigate the ships both foreign going and coasting, in which

these lives were lost. Their number would have, beyond all doubt, been

greatly added to, but for noble efforts that have been established,

as well as increased within very recent years, for saving life from

shipwreck. During the last year and the first-half of 1867, no less

than 1,600 lives have been saved by means of the 153 boats of the

National Life Boat Association. A large number of lives has also been

saved by the rocket apparatus which is furnished to the Coast Guard by

the Board of Trade, out of the Mercantile Marine Fund.

In 1864 there was one life lost for every 109,715 tons of coal raised

in British collieries. In that proportion there would have been 903

persons killed in collieries in 1866.

Accidents by fire are awfully numerous, and no class or rank of life

is exempt from them, but they are naturally more numerous among the

children of the humbler classes than in the superior stations of life.

From the nature of female dress, the sex is not only more exposed to

these accidents than men are, and the consequences are less fatal to

males than they are to females. Fire-escapes have been a means, under

Divine Providence, of saving many lives from destruction in houses on

fire.[69]

Distressing and harassing as railway and other accidents are in this

country, their number and frequency in the United States are utterly

appalling. Of accidents to American railway trains in 1866, there were

82, by which 115 persons were killed and 607 were wounded. “This,”

says the writer from whom the foregoing information is derived, “is an

improvement over 1865, when there were 183 railroad accidents, killing

335 persons outright, and wounding 1,427 others.” It appears also that

1866 exhibits a better report in this respect than any year since 1861,

but it must not be forgotten that in American accidents “persons

wounded” means only those who were not “killed outright” at the time of

an accident. The great hulk of the wounded die subsequently, and should

in reality be included among the killed. Persons who only suffer from

minor wounds and injuries are not reported. It is only in England that

the slightest injuries are reported and are included in the general

account of persons injured. There were 23 steam-boat disasters on the

various rivers and inland waters of the United States during 1866, by

which 633 persons were killed and 156 wounded. In 1865, by 32 such

accidents, 1,788 persons were killed and 265 were injured; but in 1865

a larger number of persons were killed in this way than in any previous

year since 1854. What the numbers were in 1854 the writer who imparts

the foregoing information does not mention; but he adds:—“These figures

do not include any loss of life by disasters on the ocean.” As, until

the outbreak of the war of 1862, the mercantile marine of the United

States was equal to that of the United Kingdom, we may conclude, even

making allowance for its recent diminution, that there must have been

more lives lost on the sea than on the lakes, because American-built

ships have always been notoriously less solidly built than British,

and because the United States does not possess life-boats and other

means of saving life such as we happily have in such abundance in this

country.

We conclude this chapter by repeating the painful admission that

railway accidents are inevitable. It must, however, be added, as an act

of justice to railway officials, that their efforts are never-ceasing

to prevent them. But, after all, how feeble and powerless is poor

humanity!

Rambles on Railways · 第 6 / 17 章