MANCHESTER AND LEEDS, AND MIDLAND RAILWAYS--STEPHENSON'S LIFE AT
ALTON--VISIT TO BELGIUM--GENERAL EXTENSION OF RAILWAYS AND THEIR
RESULTS.
The rapidity with which railways were carried out, when the spirit of
the country became roused, was indeed remarkable. This was doubtless
in some measure owing to the increased force of the current of
speculation at the time, but chiefly to the desire which the public
began to entertain for the general extension of the system. It was even
proposed to fill up the canals and convert them into railways. The new
roads became the topic of conversation in all circles; they were felt
to give a new value to time; their vast capabilities for "business"
peculiarly recommended them to the trading classes, while the friends
of "progress" dilated on the great benefits they would eventually
confer upon mankind at large. It began to be seen that Edward Pease
had not been exaggerating when he said, "Let the country but make the
railroads, and the railroads will make the country!" They also came
to be regarded as inviting objects of investment to the thrifty, and
a safe outlet for the accumulations of inert men of capital. Thus new
avenues of iron road were soon in course of formation, branching in all
directions, so that the country promised in a wonderfully short space
of time to become wrapped in one vast network of iron.
In 1836 the Grand Junction Railway was under construction between
Warrington and Birmingham--the northern part by Mr. Stephenson, and
the southern by Mr. Rastrick. The works on that line embraced heavy
cuttings, long embankments, and numerous viaducts; but none of these
are worthy of any special description. Perhaps the finest piece of
masonry on the railway is the Dutton Viaduct across the valley of the
Weaver. It consists of 20 arches of 60 feet span, springing 16 feet
from the perpendicular shaft of each pier, and 60 feet in height from
the crown of the arches to the level of the river. The foundations of
the piers were built on piles driven 20 feet deep. The structure has
a solid and majestic appearance, and is perhaps the finest of George
Stephenson's viaducts.
[Illustration: THE DUTTON VIADUCT.]
The Manchester and Leeds line was in progress at the same time--an
important railway connecting Yorkshire and Lancashire, passing through
a district full of manufacturing towns and villages, the hives of
population, industry, and enterprise. An attempt was made to obtain the
act as early as the year 1831; but its promoters were defeated by the
powerful opposition of the land-owners, aided by the canal companies,
and the project was not revived for several years. The act authorizing
the construction of the line was obtained in 1836; it was amended in
the following year, and the first ground was broken on the 18th of
August, 1837.
An incident occurred while the second Manchester and Leeds Bill was
before the Committee of the Lords which is worthy of passing notice
in this place, as illustrative of George Stephenson's character. The
line which was authorized by Parliament in 1836 had been hastily
surveyed within a period of less than six weeks, but before it received
the royal assent the engineer became convinced that many important
improvements might be made in it, and he communicated his views to
the directors. They determined, however, to obtain the act, although
conscious at the time that they would have to go for a second and
improved line in the following year. The second bill passed the Commons
in 1837 without difficulty, and was expected in like manner to pass
the Lords' Committee. Quite unexpectedly, however, Lord Wharncliffe,
who was interested in the Manchester and Sheffield line, which passed
through his colliery property in the south of Yorkshire, conceiving
that the new Manchester and Leeds line might have some damaging effect
upon it, appeared as an opponent of the bill. Himself a member of the
committee, he adopted the unusual course of rising to his feet, and
making a set speech against the measure while the engineer was under
examination. He alleged that the act obtained in the preceding session
was one that the promoters had no intention of carrying out, that
they had only secured it for the purpose of obtaining possession of
the ground and reducing the number of the opponents to their present
application, and that, in fact, they had been practicing a deception
upon the House. Then, turning full round upon the witness, he said,
"I ask you, sir, do you call that conduct _honest_?" Stephenson, his
voice trembling with emotion, replied, "Yes, my lord, I _do_ call it
honest. And I will ask your lordship, whom I served for many years as
your engine-wright at the Killingworth collieries, did you ever know
me to do any thing that was not strictly honorable? You know what the
collieries were when I went there, and you know what they were when
I left them. Did you ever hear that I was found wanting when honest
services were wanted, or when duty called me? Let your lordship but
fairly consider the circumstances of the case, and I feel persuaded
you will admit that my conduct has been equally honest throughout in
this matter." He then briefly but clearly stated the history of the
application to Parliament for the act, which was so satisfactory to the
committee that they passed the preamble of the bill without farther
objection; and Lord Wharncliffe requested that the committee would
permit his observations to be erased from the record of the evidence,
which, as an acknowledgment of his error, was allowed. Lord Kenyon
and several other members of the committee afterward came up to Mr.
Stephenson, shook him by the hand, and congratulated him on the manly
way in which he had vindicated himself from the aspersions attempted
to be cast upon him.
In conducting this project to an issue, the engineer had the usual
opposition and prejudices to encounter. Predictions were confidently
made in many quarters that the line could never succeed. It was
declared that the utmost engineering skill could not construct a
railway through such a country of hills and hard rocks; and it was
maintained that, even if the railway were practicable, it could only be
made at a cost altogether ruinous.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE SUMMIT TUNNEL, LITTLEBOROUGH. [By
Percival Skelton.]]
During the progress of the works, as the Summit Tunnel near
Littleborough was approaching completion, the rumor was spread abroad
in Manchester that the tunnel had fallen in and buried a number of the
workmen. The last arch had been keyed in, and the work was all but
finished, when a slight accident occurred which was thus exaggerated
by the lying tongue of rumor. An invert had given way through the
irregular pressure of the surrounding earth and rock at a part of the
tunnel where a "fault" had occurred in the strata.
[Illustration: THE LITTLEBOROUGH TUNNEL. [The Walsden End.]]
A party of the directors accompanied the engineer to inspect the scene
of the accident. They entered the tunnel mouth preceded by upward
of fifty navvies, each bearing a torch. After walking a distance of
about half a mile, the inspecting party arrived at the scene of the
"frightful accident," about which so much alarm had been spread abroad.
All that was visible was a certain unevenness of the ground, which had
been forced up by the invert under it giving way; thus the ballast had
been loosened, the drain running along the centre of the road had been
displaced, and small pools of water stood about. But the whole of the
walls and the roof were as perfect as at any other part of the tunnel.
The engineer explained the cause of the accident; the blue shale, he
said, through which the excavation passed at that point, was considered
so hard and firm as to render it unnecessary to build the invert very
strong there. But shale is always a deceptive material. Subjected to
the influence of the atmosphere, it gives but a treacherous support.
In this case, falling away like quicklime, it had left the lip of the
invert alone to support the pressure of the arch above, and hence its
springing inward and upward. Stephenson then directed the attention of
the visitors to the completeness of the arch overhead, where not the
slightest fracture or yielding could be detected. Speaking of the work
in the course of the same day, he said, "I will stake my character, my
head, if that tunnel ever give way, so as to cause danger to any of the
public passing through it. Taking it as a whole, I don't think there is
another such a piece of work in the world. It is the greatest work that
has yet been done of this kind, and there has been less repairing than
is usual--though an engineer might well be beaten in his calculations,
for he can not beforehand see into those little fractured parts of the
earth he may meet with." As Stephenson had promised, the invert was put
in, and the tunnel was made perfectly safe.
[Illustration: (Map of Midland Railway)]
The construction of this subterranean road employed the labor of above
a thousand men for nearly four years. Besides excavating the arch
out of the solid rock, they used 23,000,000 of bricks and 8000 tons
of Roman cement in the building of the tunnel. Thirteen stationary
engines, and about 100 horses, were also employed in drawing the earth
and stone out of the shafts. Its entire length is 2869 yards, or nearly
a mile and three quarters, exceeding the famous Kilsby Tunnel by 471
yards.
The Midland Railway was a favorite line of Mr. Stephenson's for several
reasons. It passed through a rich mining district, in which it opened
up many valuable coal-fields, and it formed part of the great main line
of communication between London and Edinburg. The line was originally
projected by gentlemen interested in the London and Birmingham Railway.
Their intention was to extend that line from Rugby to Leeds; but,
finding themselves anticipated in part by the projection of the Midland
Counties Railway from Rugby to Derby, they confined themselves to the
district between Derby and Leeds, and in 1835 a company was formed
to construct the North Midland line, with George Stephenson for its
engineer. The act was obtained in 1836, and the first ground was broken
in February, 1837.
Although the Midland Railway was only one of the many great works
of the same kind executed at that time, it was almost enough of
itself to be the achievement of a life. Compare it, for example, with
Napoleon's military road over the Simplon, and it will at once be seen
how greatly it excels that work, not only in the constructive skill
displayed in it, but also in its cost and magnitude, and the amount of
labor employed in its formation. The road of the Simplon is 45 miles
in length; the North Midland Railway 72-1/2 miles. The former has 50
bridges and 5 tunnels, measuring together 1338 feet in length; the
latter has 200 bridges and 7 tunnels, measuring together 11,400 feet,
or about 2-1/4 miles. The former cost about £720,000 sterling, the
latter above £3,000,000. Napoleon's grand military road was constructed
in six years, at the public cost of the two great kingdoms of France
and Italy, while Stephenson's railway was formed in about three years
by a company of private merchants and capitalists out of their own
funds and under their own superintendence.
It is scarcely necessary that we should give any account in detail of
the North Midland works. The making of one tunnel so much resembles
the making of another--the building of bridges and viaducts, no matter
how extensive, so much resembles the building of others--the cutting
out of "dirt," the blasting of rocks, and the wheeling of excavation
into embankments, is so much matter of mere time and hard work, that
it is quite unnecessary to detain the reader by any attempt at their
description. Of course there were the usual difficulties to encounter
and overcome, but the railway engineer regarded these as mere matters
of course, and would probably have been disappointed if they had not
presented themselves.
On the Midland, as on other lines, water was the great enemy to be
fought against--water in the Claycross and other tunnels--water in
the boggy or sandy foundations of bridges--and water in cuttings and
embankments. As an illustration of the difficulties of bridge building,
we may mention the case of the five-arch bridge over the Derwent, where
it took two years' work, night and day, to get in the foundations
of the piers alone. Another curious illustration of the mischief
done by water in cuttings may be briefly mentioned. At a part of the
North Midland line, near Ambergate, it was necessary to pass along a
hill-side in a cutting a few yards deep. As the cutting proceeded, a
seam of shale was cut across, lying at an inclination of 6 to 1; and
shortly after, the water getting behind it, the whole mass of earth
along the hill above began to move down across the line of excavation.
The accident completely upset the estimates of the contractor, who,
instead of fifty thousand cubic yards, found that he had about five
hundred thousand to remove, the execution of this part of the railway
occupying fifteen months instead of two.
[Illustration: LAND-SLIP ON NORTH MIDLAND LINE, NEAR AMBERGATE.]
The Oakenshaw cutting near Wakefield was also of a very formidable
character. About six hundred thousand yards of rock shale and bind were
quarried out of it, and led to form the adjoining Oakenshaw embankment.
The Normanton cutting was almost as heavy, requiring the removal
of four hundred thousand yards of the same kind of excavation into
embankment and spoil. But the progress of the works on the line was so
rapid during 1839 that no less than 450,000 cubic yards of excavation
were accomplished per month.
[Illustration: BULL BRIDGE, NEAR AMBERGATE.]
As a curiosity in construction, we may also mention a very delicate
piece of work executed on the same railway at Bull Bridge in
Derbyshire, where the line at the same point passes _over_ a bridge
which here spans the River Amber, and _under_ the bed of the Cromford
Canal. Water, bridge, railway, and canal were thus piled one above the
other, four stories high. In order to prevent the possibility of the
waters of the canal breaking in upon the railway works, Stephenson had
an iron trough made, 150 feet long, of the width of the canal, and
exactly fitting the bottom. It was brought to the spot in three pieces,
which were firmly welded together, and the trough was then floated into
its place and sunk, the whole operation being completed without in the
least interfering with the navigation of the canal. The railway works
underneath were then proceeded with and finished.
Another line of the same series, constructed by George Stephenson,
was the York and North Midland, extending from Normanton--a point on
the Midland Railway--to York; but it was a line of easy formation,
traversing a comparatively level country. The inhabitants of Whitby,
as well as York, were projecting a railway to connect these towns as
early as 1832, and in the year following Whitby succeeded in obtaining
a horse line of twenty-four miles, connecting it with the small
market-town of Pickering. The York citizens were more ambitious, and
agitated the question of a locomotive line to connect them with the
town of Leeds. Stephenson recommended them to connect their line with
the Midland at Normanton, and they adopted his advice. The company was
formed, the shares were at once subscribed for, the act was obtained in
the following year, and the works were constructed without difficulty.
As the best proof of his conviction that the York and North Midland
would prove a good investment, Stephenson invested in it a considerable
portion of his savings, being a subscriber for 420 shares. The interest
taken in this line by the engineer was on more than one occasion
specially mentioned by Mr. Hudson, then Lord-mayor of York, as an
inducement to other persons of capital to join the undertaking; and had
it not been afterward encumbered and overlaid by comparatively useless
and profitless branches, in the projection of which Stephenson had no
part, the sanguine expectations which he early formed of the paying
qualities of that railway would have been more than realized.
There was one branch, however, of the York and North Midland Line in
which he took an anxious interest, and of which he may be said to have
been the projector--the branch to Scarborough, which proved one of
the most profitable parts of the railway. He was so satisfied of its
value, that, at a meeting of the York and North Midland proprietors,
he volunteered his gratuitous services as engineer until the company
was formed, in addition to subscribing largely to the undertaking.
At that meeting he took an opportunity of referring to the charges
brought against engineers of so greatly exceeding the estimates: "He
had had a good deal to do with making out the estimate of the North
Midland Railway, and he believed there never was a more honest one. He
had always endeavored to state the truth as far as was in his power.
He had known a contractor who, when he (Mr. Stephenson) had sent in
an estimate, came forward and said, 'I can do it for half the money.'
The contractor's estimate went into Parliament, but it came out his.
He could go through the whole list of the undertakings in which he
had been engaged, and show that he had never had any thing to do with
stock-jobbing concerns. He would say that he would not be concerned in
any scheme unless he was satisfied that it would pay the proprietors;
and in bringing forward the proposed line to Scarborough, he was
satisfied that it would pay, or he would have had nothing to do with
it."
During the time that our engineer was engaged in superintending the
execution of these undertakings, he was occupied upon other projected
railways in various parts of the country. He surveyed several lines in
the neighborhood of Glasgow, and afterward alternate routes along the
east coast from Newcastle to Edinburg, with the view of completing the
main line of communication with London. When out on foot in the field
on these occasions, he was ever foremost in the march, and he delighted
to test the prowess of his companions by a good jump at any hedge or
ditch that lay in their way. His companions used to remark his singular
quickness of observation. Nothing escaped his attention--the trees, the
crops, the birds, or the farmer's stock; and he was usually full of
lively conversation, every thing in nature affording him an opportunity
for making some striking remark or propounding some ingenious theory.
When taking a flying survey of a new line, his keen observation
proved very useful, for he rapidly noted the general configuration
of the country, and inferred its geological structure. He afterward
remarked to a friend, "I have planned many a railway traveling along
in a post-chaise, and following the natural line of the country." And
it was remarkable that his first impressions of the direction to be
taken almost invariably proved correct; and there are few of the lines
surveyed and recommended by him which have not been executed, either
during his lifetime or since. As an illustration of his quick and
shrewd observation on such occasions, we may mention that when employed
to lay out a line to connect Manchester, through Macclesfield, with
the Potteries, the gentleman who accompanied him on the journey of
inspection cautioned him to provide large accommodation for carrying
off the water, observing, "You must not judge by the appearance of the
brooks; for after heavy rains these hills pour down volumes of water,
of which you can have no conception." "Pooh! pooh! _don't I see your
bridges_?" replied the engineer. He had noted the details of each as he
passed along.
Among the other projects which occupied his attention about the same
time were the projected lines between Chester and Holyhead, between
Leeds and Bradford, and between Lancaster and Maryport by the west
coast. This latter was intended to form part of a western line to
Scotland; Stephenson favoring it partly because of the flatness of
the gradients, and because it could be formed at comparatively small
cost, while it would open out a valuable iron-mining district, from
which a large traffic in ironstone was expected. One of its collateral
advantages, in the engineer's opinion, was that, by forming the railway
directly across Morecambe Bay, on the northwest coast of Lancashire, a
large tract of valuable land might be reclaimed from the sea, the sale
of which would considerably reduce the cost of the works. He estimated
that, by means of a solid embankment across the bay, not less than
40,000 acres of rich alluvial land would be gained. He proposed to
carry the road across the ten miles of sands which lie between Poulton,
near Lancaster, and Humphrey Head on the opposite coast, forming the
line in a segment of a circle of five miles' radius. His plan was to
drive in piles across the entire length, forming a solid fence of stone
blocks on the land side for the purpose of retaining the sand and silt
brought down by the rivers from the interior. The embankment would then
be raised from time to time as the deposit accumulated, until the land
was filled up to high-water mark; provision being made, by means of
sufficient arches, for the flow of the river waters into the bay. The
execution of the railway after this plan would, however, have occupied
more years than the promoters of the West Coast line were disposed
to wait, and eventually Mr. Locke's more direct but less level line
by Shap Fell was adopted. A railway has, however, since been carried
across the head of the bay, in a modified form, by the Ulverstone and
Lancaster Railway Company; and it is not improbable that Stephenson's
larger scheme of reclaiming the vast tract of land now left bare at
every receding tide may yet be carried out.
While occupied in carrying out the great railway undertakings which we
have above so briefly described, George Stephenson's home continued,
for the greater part of the time, to be at Alton Grange, near
Leicester. But he was so much occupied in traveling about from one
committee of directors to another--one week in England, another in
Scotland, and probably the next in Ireland, that he often did not see
his home for weeks together. He had also to make frequent inspections
of the various important and difficult works in progress, especially
on the Midland and Manchester and Leeds lines, besides occasionally
going to Newcastle to see how the locomotive works were going on
there. During the three years ending 1837--perhaps the busiest years
of his life[78]--he traveled by post-chaise alone upward of 20,000
miles, and yet not less than six months out of the three years were
spent in London. Hence there is comparatively little to record of Mr.
Stephenson's private life at this period, during which he had scarcely
a moment that he could call his own.
To give an idea of the number of projects which at this time occupied
our engineer's attention, and of the extent and rapidity of his
journeys, we subjoin from his private secretary's journal the following
epitome of one of them, on which he entered immediately after the
conclusion of the heavy Parliamentary session of 1836.
"August 9th. From Alton Grange to Derby and Matlock, and forward
by mail to Manchester, to meet the committee of the South Union
Railway. August 10th. Manchester to Stockport, to meet committee
of the Manchester and Leeds Railway; thence to meet directors of
the Chester and Birkenhead, and Chester and Crewe Railways. August
11th. Liverpool to Woodside, to meet committee of the Chester and
Birkenhead line; journey with them along the proposed railway
to Chester; then back to Liverpool. August 12th. Liverpool to
Manchester, to meet directors of the Manchester and Leeds Railway,
and traveling with them over the works in progress. August 13th.
Continued journey over the works, and arrival at Wakefield;
thence to York. August 14th. Meeting with Mr. Hudson at York,
and journey from York to Newcastle. August 15th. At Newcastle,
working up arrears of correspondence. August 16th. Meeting with
Mr. Brandling as to the station for the Brandling Junction at
Gateshead, and stations at other parts of the line. August 17th.
Carlisle to Wigton and Maryport, examining the railway. August
19th. Maryport to Carlisle, continuing the inspection. August
20th. At Carlisle, examining the ground for a station; and working
up correspondence. August 21st. Carlisle to Dumfries by mail;
forward to Ayr by chaise, proceeding up the valley of the Nith,
through Thornhill, Sanquhar, and Cumnock. August 22d. Meeting with
promoters of the Glasgow, Kilmarnock, and Ayr Railway, and journey
along the proposed line; meeting with the magistrates of Kilmarnock
at Beith, and journey with them over Mr. Gale's proposed line to
Kilmarnock. August 23d. From Kilmarnock along Mr. Miller's proposed
line to Beith, Paisley, and Glasgow. August 24th. Examination of
site of proposed station at Glasgow; meeting with the directors;
then from Glasgow, by Falkirk and Linlithgow, to Edinburg, meeting
there with Mr. Grainger, engineer, and several of the committee of
the proposed Edinburg and Dunbar Railway. August 25th. Examining
the site of the proposed station at Edinburg; then to Dunbar, by
Portobello and Haddington, examining the proposed line of railway.
August 26th. Dunbar to Tommy Grant's, to examine the summit of the
country toward Berwick, with a view to a through line to Newcastle;
then return to Edinburg. August 27th. At Edinburg, meeting the
provisional committee of the proposed Edinburg and Dunbar Railway.
August 28th. Journey from Edinburg, through Melrose and Jedburg,
to Horsley, along the route of Mr. Richardson's proposed railway
across Carter Fell. August 29th. From Horsley to Mr. Brandling's,
then on to Newcastle; engaged on the Brandling Junction Railway.
August 30th. Engaged with Mr. Brandling; after which, meeting a
deputation from Maryport. August 31st. Meeting with Mr. Brandling
and others as to the direction of the Brandling Junction in
connection with the Great North of England line, and the course
of the railway through Newcastle; then on to York. September 1st.
At York; meeting with York and North Midland directors; then
journeying over Lord Howden's property, to arrange for a deviation;
examining the proposed site of the station at York. September 2d.
At York, giving instructions as to the survey; then to Manchester
by Leeds. September 3d. At Manchester; journey to Stockport, with
Mr. Bidder and Mr. Bourne, examining the line to Stockport, and
fixing the crossing of the river there; attending to the surveys;
then journey back to Manchester, to meet the directors of the
Manchester and Leeds Railway. September 4th. Sunday at Manchester.
September 5th. Journey along part of the Manchester and Leeds
Railway. September 6th. At Manchester, examining and laying down
the section of the South Union line to Stockport; afterward engaged
on the Manchester and Leeds working plans, in endeavoring to
give a greater radius to the curves; seeing Mr. Seddon about the
Liverpool, Manchester, and Leeds Junction Railway. September 7th.
Journey along the Manchester and Leeds line, then on to Derby.
September 8th. At Derby; seeing Mr. Carter and Mr. Beale about the
Tamworth deviation; then home to Alton Grange. September 10th. At
Alton Grange, preparing report to the committee of the Edinburg and
Dunbar Railway."
Such is a specimen of the enormous amount of physical and mental labor
undergone by the engineer during the busy years above referred to. He
was no sooner home than he was called away again by some other railway
or business engagement. Thus, in four days after his arrival at Alton
Grange from the above journey into Scotland, we find him going over
the whole of the North Midland line as far as Leeds; then by Halifax
to Manchester, where he staid for several days on the business of the
South Union line; then to Birmingham and London; back to Alton Grange,
and next day to Congleton and Leek; thence to Leeds and Goole, and
home again by the Sheffield and Rotherham and the Midland works. And
early in the following month (October) he was engaged in the north
of Ireland, examining the line, and reporting upon the plans of the
projected Ulster Railway. He was also called upon to inspect and report
upon colliery works, salt works, brass and copper works, and such like,
in addition to his own colliery and railway business. He usually also
staked out himself the lines laid out by him, which involved a good
deal of labor since undertaken by assistants. And occasionally he would
run up to London, attending in person to the preparation and depositing
of the plans and sections of the projected undertakings for which he
was engaged as engineer.
His correspondence increased so much that he found it necessary to
engage a private secretary, who accompanied him on his journeys. He
was himself exceedingly averse to writing letters. The comparatively
advanced age at which he learned the art of writing, and the nature
of his duties while engaged at the Killingworth Colliery, precluded
that facility in correspondence which only constant practice can give.
He gradually, however, acquired great facility in dictation, and had
also the power of laboring continuously at this work, the gentleman
who acted as his secretary in the year 1835 having informed us that
during his busy season he one day dictated no fewer than thirty-seven
letters, several of them embodying the results of much close thinking
and calculation. On another occasion he dictated reports and letters
for twelve continuous hours, until his secretary was ready to drop off
his chair from sheer exhaustion, and at length pleaded for a suspension
of the labor. This great mass of correspondence, though closely bearing
on the subjects under discussion, was not, however, of a kind to supply
the biographer with matter for quotation, or to give that insight into
the life and character of the writer which the letters of literary
men so often furnish. They were, for the most part, letters of mere
business, relating to works in progress, Parliamentary contests, new
surveys, estimates of cost, and railway policy--curt, and to the point;
in short, the letters of a man every moment of whose time was precious.
Fortunately, George Stephenson possessed a facility of sleeping, which
enabled him to pass through this enormous amount of fatigue and labor
without injury to his health. He had been trained in a hard school, and
could bear with ease conditions which, to men more softly nurtured,
would have been the extreme of physical discomfort. Many, many nights
he snatched his sleep while traveling in his chaise; and at break of
day he would be at work, surveying until dark, and this for weeks in
succession. His whole powers seemed to be under the control of his
will, for he could wake at any hour, and go to work at once. It was
difficult for secretaries and assistants to keep up with such a man.
It is pleasant to record that in the midst of these engrossing
occupations his heart remained as soft and loving as ever. In
spring-time he would not be debarred of his boyish amusement of
bird-nesting, but would go rambling along the hedges spying for nests.
In the autumn he went nutting, and when he could snatch a few minutes
he indulged in his old love of gardening. His uniform kindness and
good temper, and his communicative, intelligent disposition, made
him a great favorite with the neighboring farmers, to whom he would
volunteer much valuable advice on agricultural operations, drainage,
plowing, and labor-saving processes. Sometimes he took a long rural
ride on his favorite "Bobby," now growing old, but as fond of his
master as ever. Toward the end of his life "Bobby" lived in clover, his
master's pet, doing no work; and he died at Tapton in 1845, more than
twenty years old.
During one of George's brief sojourns at the Grange he found time to
write to his son a touching account of a pair of robins that had built
their nest within one of the empty upper chambers of the house. One
day he observed a robin fluttering outside the windows, and beating
its wings against the panes, as if eager to gain admission. He went
up stairs, and there found, in a retired part of one of the rooms, a
robin's nest, with one of the parent birds sitting over three or four
young--all dead. The excluded bird outside still beat against the
panes; and on the window being let down, it flew into the room, but was
so exhausted that it dropped upon the floor. Stephenson took up the
bird, carried it down stairs, and had it warmed and fed. The poor robin
revived, and for a time was one of his pets. But it shortly died too,
as if unable to recover from the privations it had endured during its
three days' fluttering and beating at the windows. It appeared that the
room had been unoccupied, and the sash having been let down, the robins
had taken the opportunity of building their nest within it; but the
servant having closed the window again, the calamity befell the birds
which so strongly excited the engineer's sympathies. An incident such
as this, trifling though it may seem, gives a true key to the heart of
a man.
The amount of his Parliamentary business having greatly increased
with the projection of new lines of railway, the Stephensons found it
necessary to set up an office in London in 1836. George's first office
was at No. 9 Duke Street, Westminster, from whence he removed in the
following year to 30-1/2 Great George Street. That office was the
busy scene of railway politics for several years. There consultations
were held, schemes were matured, deputations were received, and many
projectors called upon our engineer for the purpose of submitting to
him their plans of railways and railway working. His private secretary
at the time has informed us that at the end of the first Parliamentary
session in which he had been engaged as engineer for more companies
than one, it became necessary for him to give instructions as to the
preparation of the accounts to be rendered to the several companies.
In the simplicity of his heart, he directed Mr. Binns to take his
full time at the rate of ten guineas a day, and charge the railway
companies in the proportion in which he had actually been employed in
their respective business during each day. When Robert heard of this
instruction, he went directly to his father and expostulated with him
against this unprofessional course; and, other influences being brought
to bear upon him, George at length reluctantly consented to charge as
other engineers did, an entire day's fee to each of the companies for
which he was concerned while their business was going forward; but he
cut down the number of days charged for, and reduced the daily amount
from ten to seven guineas.
Besides his journeys at home, George Stephenson was on more than
one occasion called abroad on railway business. Thus, at the desire
of King Leopold, he made several visits to Belgium to assist the
Belgian engineers in laying out the national lines of the kingdom.
That enlightened monarch at an early period discerned the powerful
instrumentality of railways in developing a country's resources, and
he determined at the earliest possible period to adopt them as the
great high roads of the nation. The country, being rich in coals and
minerals, had great manufacturing capabilities. It had good ports,
fine navigable rivers, abundant canals, and a teeming, industrious
population. Leopold perceived that railways were eminently calculated
to bring the industry of the country into full play, and to render
the riches of the provinces available to the rest of the kingdom. He
therefore openly declared himself the promoter of public railways
throughout Belgium. A system of lines was projected at his instance,
connecting Brussels with the chief towns and cities of the state,
extending from Ostend eastward to the Prussian frontier, and from
Antwerp southward to the French frontier.
Mr. Stephenson and his son, as the leading railway engineers of
England, were consulted by the king, in 1835, as to the best mode of
carrying out his intentions. In the course of that year they visited
Belgium, and had several interesting conferences with Leopold and his
ministers on the subject of the proposed railways. The king then
appointed George Stephenson by royal ordinance a Knight of the Order of
Leopold. At the invitation of the monarch, Mr. Stephenson made a second
visit to Belgium in 1837, on the occasion of the public opening of the
line from Brussels to Ghent. At Brussels there was a public procession,
and another at Ghent on the arrival of the train. Stephenson and his
party accompanied it to the Public Hall, there to dine with the chief
ministers of state, the municipal authorities, and about five hundred
of the principal inhabitants of the city; the English embassador being
also present. After the king's health and a few others had been drunk,
that of Mr. Stephenson was proposed; on which the whole assembly rose
up, amid great excitement and loud applause, and made their way to
where he sat, in order to "jingle glasses" with him, greatly to his own
amazement. On the day following, our engineer dined with the king and
queen at their own table at Laaken, by special invitation, afterward
accompanying his majesty and suite to a public ball, given by the
municipality of Brussels in honor of the opening of the line to Ghent,
as well as of their distinguished English guests. On entering the room,
the general and excited inquiry was, "Which is Stephenson?" The English
engineer had not before imagined that he was esteemed to be so great a
man.
The London and Birmingham Railway having been completed in September,
1838, after being about five years in progress, the great main system
of railway communication between London, Liverpool, and Manchester was
then opened to the public. For some months previously the line had
been partially open, coaches performing the journey between Denbigh
Hall (near Wolverton) and Rugby--the works of the Kilsby tunnel being
still incomplete. It was already amusing to hear the complaints of
the travelers about the slowness of the coaches as compared with the
railway, though the coaches traveled at a speed of eleven miles an
hour. The comparison of comfort was also greatly to the disparagement
of the coaches. Then the railway train could accommodate any quantity,
whereas the road conveyances were limited; and when a press of
travelers occurred--as on the occasion of the queen's coronation--the
greatest inconvenience was experienced, as much as £10 having been
paid for a seat on a donkey-chaise between Rugby and Denbigh. On the
opening of the railway throughout, of course all this inconvenience
and delay was brought to an end.
Numerous other openings of railways constructed by George Stephenson
took place about the same time. The Birmingham and Derby line was
opened for traffic in August, 1839; the Sheffield and Rotherham in
November, 1839; and in the course of the following year, the Midland,
the York and North Midland, the Chester and Crewe, the Chester and
Birkenhead, the Manchester and Birmingham, the Manchester and Leeds,
and the Maryport and Carlisle railways, were all publicly opened in
whole or in part. Thus 321 miles of railway (exclusive of the London
and Birmingham), constructed under Mr. Stephenson's superintendence, at
a cost of upward of eleven millions sterling, were, in the course of
about two years, added to the traffic accommodation of the country.
The ceremonies which accompanied the public opening of these lines
were often of an interesting character. The adjoining population held
general holiday; bands played, banners waved, and assembled thousands
cheered the passing trains amid the occasional booming of cannon.
The proceedings were usually wound up by a public dinner; and in the
course of his speech which followed, Mr. Stephenson would revert to his
favorite topic--the difficulties which he had early encountered in the
promotion of the railway system, and in establishing the superiority
of the locomotive. On such occasions he always took great pleasure in
alluding to the services rendered to himself and the public by the
young men brought up under his eye--his pupils at first, and afterward
his assistants. No great master ever possessed a more devoted band of
assistants and fellow-workers than he did; and it was one of the most
marked evidences of his admirable tact and judgment that he selected,
with such undeviating correctness, the men best fitted to carry out
his plans. Indeed, the ability to accomplish great things, to carry
grand ideas into practical effect, depends in no small measure on that
intuitive knowledge of character which our engineer possessed in so
remarkable a degree.
At the dinner at York, which followed the partial opening of the York
and North Midland Railway, Mr. Stephenson said "he was sure they would
appreciate his feelings when he told them that, when he first began
railway business, his hair was black, although it was now gray; and
that he began his life's labor as but a poor plowboy. About thirty
years since he had applied himself to the study of how to generate
high velocities by mechanical means. He thought he had solved that
problem; and they had for themselves seen, that day, what perseverance
had brought him to. He was, on that occasion, only too happy to have
an opportunity of acknowledging that he had, in the latter portion of
his career, received much most valuable assistance particularly from
young men brought up in his manufactory. Whenever talent showed itself
in a young man, he had always given that talent encouragement where he
could, and he would continue to do so."
That this was no exaggerated statement is amply proved by many
facts which redound to Stephenson's credit. He was no niggard of
encouragement and praise when he saw honest industry struggling for a
footing. Many were the young men whom, in the course of his career,
he took by the hand and led steadily up to honor and emolument,
simply because he had noted their zeal, diligence, and integrity. One
youth excited his interest while working as a common carpenter on the
Liverpool and Manchester line; and before many years had passed he
was recognized as an engineer of distinction. Another young man he
found industriously working away at his by-hours, and, admiring his
diligence, he engaged him as his private secretary, the gentleman
shortly after rising to a position of eminent influence and usefulness.
Indeed, nothing gave the engineer greater pleasure than in this way to
help on any deserving youth who came under his observation, and, in his
own expressive phrase, to "make a man of him."
The openings of the great main lines of railroad communication shortly
proved the fallaciousness of the numerous rash prophecies which had
been promulgated by the opponents of railways. The proprietors of the
canals were astounded by the fact that, notwithstanding the immense
traffic conveyed by rail, their own traffic and receipts continued to
increase; and that, in common with other interests, they fully shared
in the expansion of trade and commerce which had been so effectually
promoted by the extension of the railway system. The cattle-owners
were equally amazed to find the price of horseflesh increasing with
the extension of railways, and that the number of coaches running
to and from the new railway stations gave employment to a greater
number of horses than under the old stage-coach system. Those who
had prophesied the decay of the metropolis, and the ruin of the
suburban cabbage-growers, in consequence of the approach of railways
to London, were disappointed; for, while the new roads let citizens
out of London, they also let country-people in. Their action, in this
respect, was centripetal as well as centrifugal. Tens of thousands
who had never seen the metropolis could now visit it expeditiously
and cheaply; and Londoners who had never visited the country, or but
rarely, were enabled, at little cost of time or money, to see green
fields and clear blue skies far from the smoke and bustle of town. If
the dear suburban-grown cabbages became depreciated in value, there
were truck-loads of fresh-grown country cabbages to make amends for
the loss: in this case, the "partial evil" was a far more general
good. The food of the metropolis became rapidly improved, especially
in the supply of wholesome meat and vegetables. And then the price
of coals--an article which, in this country, is as indispensable as
daily food to all classes--was greatly reduced. What a blessing to the
metropolitan poor is described in this single fact!
The prophecies of ruin and disaster to landlords and farmers were
equally confounded by the openings of the railways. The agricultural
communications, so far from being "destroyed," as had been predicted,
were immensely improved. The farmers were enabled to buy their coals,
lime, and manure for less money, while they obtained a readier access
to the best markets for their stock and farm-produce. Notwithstanding
the predictions to the contrary, their cows gave milk as before, the
sheep fed and fattened, and even skittish horses ceased to shy at the
passing trains. The smoke of the engines did not obscure the sky, nor
were farmyards burnt up by the fire thrown from the locomotives. The
farming classes were not reduced to beggary; on the contrary, they soon
felt that, so far from having any thing to dread, they had very much
good to expect from the extension of railways.
Landlords also found that they could get higher rent for farms
situated near a railway than at a distance from one. Hence they became
clamorous for "sidings." They felt it to be a grievance to be placed
at a distance from a station. After a railway had been once opened,
not a landlord would consent to have the line taken from him. Owners
who had fought the promoters before Parliament, and compelled them
to pass their domains at a distance, at a vastly increased expense
in tunnels and deviations, now petitioned for branches and nearer
station-accommodation. Those who held property near towns, and had
extorted large sums as compensation for the anticipated deterioration
in the value of their building land, found a new demand for it
springing up at greatly advanced prices. Land was now advertised for
sale with the attraction of being "near a railway station."
The prediction that, even if railways were made, the public would not
use them, was also completely falsified by the results. The ordinary
mode of fast traveling for the middle classes had heretofore been
by mail-coach and stage-coach. Those who could not afford to pay
the high prices charged by such conveyances went by wagon, and the
poorer classes trudged on foot. George Stephenson was wont to say
that he hoped to see the day when it would be cheaper for a poor man
to travel by railway than to walk, and not many years passed before
his expectation was fulfilled. In no country in the world is time
worth more money than in England; and by saving time--the criterion of
distance--the railway proved a great benefactor to men of industry in
all classes.
Many deplored the inevitable downfall of the old stage-coach system.
There was to be an end of that delightful variety of incident usually
attendant on a journey by road. The rapid scamper across a fine
country on the outside of the four-horse "Express" or "Highflyer;" the
seat on the box beside Jehu, or the equally coveted place near the
facetious guard behind; the journey amid open green fields, through
smiling villages and fine old towns, where the stage stopped to change
horses and the passengers to dine, was all very delightful in its
way, and many regretted that this old-fashioned and pleasant style
of traveling was about to pass away. But it had its dark side also.
Any one who remembers the journey by stage from London to Manchester
or York will associate it with recollections and sensations of not
unmixed delight. To be perched for twenty-four hours, exposed to all
weathers, on the outside of a coach, trying in vain to find a soft
seat--sitting now with the face to the wind, rain, or sun, and now
with the back--without any shelter such as the commonest penny-a-mile
Parliamentary train now daily provides--was a miserable undertaking,
looked forward to with horror by many whose business required them to
travel frequently between the provinces and the metropolis. Nor were
the inside passengers more agreeably accommodated. To be closely packed
in a little, inconvenient, straight-backed vehicle, where the cramped
limbs could not be in the least extended, nor the wearied frame indulge
in any change of posture, was felt by many to be a terrible thing. Then
there were the constantly-recurring demands, not always couched in
the politest terms, for an allowance to the driver every two or three
stages, and to the guard every six or eight; and if the gratuity did
not equal their expectations, growling and open abuse were not unusual.
These _désagrémens_, together with the exactions practiced on travelers
by innkeepers, seriously detracted from the romance of stage-coach
traveling, and there was a general disposition on the part of the
public to change the system for a better.
The avidity with which the public at once availed themselves of
the railways proved that this better system had been discovered.
Notwithstanding the reduction of the coach-fares on many of the roads
to one third of their previous rate, the public preferred traveling
by the railway. They saved in time, and they saved in money, taking
the whole expenses into account. In point of comfort there could be
no doubt as to the infinite superiority of the locomotive train. But
there remained the question of safety, which had been a great bugbear
with the early opponents of railways, and was made the most of by the
coach-proprietors to deter the public from using them. It was predicted
that trains of passengers would be blown to pieces, and that none
but fools would intrust their persons to the conduct of an explosive
machine such as the locomotive. It appeared, however, that during
the first eight years not fewer than five millions of passengers had
been conveyed along the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, and of this
vast number only two persons had lost their lives by accident. During
the same period, the loss of life by the upsetting of stage-coaches
had been immensely greater in proportion. The public were not slow,
therefore, to detect the fact that traveling by railways was greatly
safer than traveling by common roads, and in all districts penetrated
by railways the coaches were very shortly taken off for want of support.
George Stephenson himself had a narrow escape in one of the stage-coach
accidents so common thirty years since, but which are already almost
forgotten. While the Birmingham line was under construction, he had
occasion to travel from Ashby-de-la-Zouch to London by coach. He was
an inside passenger with several others, and the outsides were pretty
numerous. When within ten miles of Dunstable, he felt, from the rolling
of the coach, that one of the linchpins securing the wheels had given
way, and that the vehicle must upset. He endeavored to fix himself in
his seat, holding on firmly by the arm-straps, so that he might save
himself on whichever side the coach fell. The coach soon toppled over,
and fell crash upon the road, amid the shrieks of his fellow-passengers
and the smashing of glass. He immediately pulled himself up by the
arm-strap above him, let down the coach-window, and climbed out. The
coachman and passengers lay scattered about on the road, stunned, and
some of them bleeding, while the horses were plunging in their harness.
Taking out his pocket-knife, he at once cut the traces and set the
horses free. He then went to the help of the passengers, who were all
more or less hurt. The guard had his arm broken, and the driver was
seriously cut and contused. A scream from one of his fellow-passenger
"insides" here attracted his attention: it proceeded from an elderly
lady, whom he had before observed to be decorated with one of the
enormous bonnets in fashion at the time. Opening the coach-door, he
lifted the lady out, and her principal lamentation was that her large
bonnet had been crushed beyond remedy! Stephenson then proceeded to the
nearest village for help, and saw the passengers provided with proper
assistance before he himself went forward on his journey.
It was some time before the more opulent classes, who could afford to
post to town in aristocratic style, became reconciled to the railway
train. It put an end to that gradation of rank in traveling which was
one of the few things left by which the nobleman could be distinguished
from the Manchester manufacturer and bagman. But to younger sons
of noble families the convenience and cheapness of the railway did
not fail to commend itself. One of these, whose eldest brother had
just succeeded to an earldom, said to a railway manager, "I like
railways--they just suit young fellows like me, with 'nothing per annum
paid quarterly.' You know, we can't afford to post, and it used to be
deuced annoying to me, as I was jogging along on the box-seat of the
stage-coach, to see the little earl go by, drawn by his four posters,
and just look up at me and give me a nod. But now, with railways, it's
different. It's true, he may take a first-class ticket, while I can
only afford a second-class one, but _we both go the same pace_."
For a time, however, many of the old families sent forward their
servants and luggage by railroad, and condemned themselves to jog
along the old highway in the accustomed family chariot, dragged by
country post-horses. But the superior comfort of the railway shortly
recommended itself to even the oldest families; posting went out of
date; post-horses were with difficulty to be had along even the great
high roads; and nobles and servants, manufacturers and peasants, alike
shared in the comfort, the convenience, and the dispatch of railway
traveling. The late Dr. Arnold, of Rugby, regarded the opening of the
London and Birmingham line as another great step accomplished in the
march of civilization. "I rejoice to see it," he said, as he stood on
one of the bridges over the railway, and watched the train flashing
along under him, and away through the distant hedgerows--"I rejoice to
see it, and to think that feudality is gone forever: it is so great a
blessing to think that any one evil is really extinct."
It was long before the late Duke of Wellington would trust himself
behind a locomotive. The fatal accident to Mr. Huskisson, which had
happened before his eyes, contributed to prejudice him strongly
against railways, and it was not until the year 1843 that he performed
his first trip on the Southwestern Railway, in attendance upon her
majesty. Prince Albert had for some time been accustomed to travel
by railway alone, but in 1842 the queen began to make use of the
same mode of conveyance between Windsor and London. Even Colonel
Sibthorpe was eventually compelled to acknowledge its utility. For
a time he continued to post to and from the country as before. Then
he compromised the matter by taking a railway ticket for the long
journey, and posting only a stage or two nearest town; until, at
length, he undisguisedly committed himself, like other people, to the
express train, and performed the journey throughout upon what he had
formerly denounced as "the infernal railroad."
[Illustration: COALVILLE AND SNIBSTON COLLIERY.]
FOOTNOTE:
[78] During this period he was engaged on the North Midland, extending
from Derby to Leeds; the York and North Midland, from Normanton to
York; the Manchester and Leeds; the Birmingham and Derby, and the
Sheffield and Rotherham Railways; the whole of these, of which he was
principal engineer, having been authorized in 1836. In that session
alone, powers were obtained for the construction of 214 miles of new
railways under his direction, at an expenditure of upward of five
millions sterling.
[Illustration: TAPTON HOUSE. [By Percival Skelton.]]