 14. Manchester and Leeds and Midland Railways Stevenson'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 particularly 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 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 Stevenson, 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 twenty arches of sixty feet span, springing sixteen feet from the perpendicular shaft of each pier, and sixty feet in height from the crown of the arches to the level of the river. The foundation of the piers were built on piles driven twenty feet deep. The structure has a solid and majestic appearance, and is perhaps the finest of George Stevenson's viaducts. The Manchester and Leeds line was in progress at the same time, an important railway connecting the principal manufacturing towns of Yorkshire and Lancashire. An attempt was made to obtain the act as early as 1831, but its promoters were defeated by the powerful opposition of the landowners aided by the canal companies, and the project was not revived for several years. The line was somewhat circuitous, and the works were heavy, but on the whole the gradients were favourable, and it had the advantage of passing through a district full of manufacturing towns and villages, teeming hives of population, industry and enterprise. The act authorising the construction of the railway was obtained in 1836. It was greatly amended in the succeeding year, and the first ground was broken on the 18th of August 1837. 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 railroad were practicable, it could only be made at a ruinous cost. During the progress of the works, as the summit tunnel near Littleborough was approaching completion, the rumour 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 the accident occurred, which was thus exaggerated by the lying tongue of rumour. An invert had given way through the irregular pressure of the surrounding earth and rock, cut apart of the tunnel where a fault had occurred in the starter. A party of the directors accompanied the engineer to inspect the scene of the accident. They entered the tunnel's mouth, preceded by upwards of fifty navies 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. 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 hull of the walls and the roof were still as perfect as 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 a lip of the invert alone to support the pressure of the art above, and hence its springing inwards and upwards. Mr. Stevenson directed the attention of the visitors to the completeness of the art 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 and 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 such another 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 cannot beforehand see into those little fractured parts of the earth he may meet with. As Stevenson had promised, the invert was put in, and the tunnel was made perfectly safe. The construction of this subterranean road employed the labour of above a thousand men for nearly four years. Besides excavating the arch out of solid rock, they used 23 million of bricks and 8,000 tons of Roman cement in the building of the tunnel. Thirteen station re-engines and about a hundred horses were also employed in drawing the earth and stone out of the shafts. Its entire length is 2,869 yards, or nearly 1.75 miles, exceeding the famous Killsby Tunnel by 471 yards. The Midland Railway was a favourite line of Mr. Stevenson'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 Edinburgh. 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 Sampland, 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 labour employed in its formation. The road of the Sampland is 45 miles in length. The North Midland Railway is 72.5 miles. The former has 50 bridges and 5 tunnels, measuring together 1,338 feet in length. The latter has 200 bridges and 7 tunnels, measuring together 11,400 feet, or about 2.25 miles. The former cost about 720,000 pounds sterling. The latter above 3 million pounds. Napoleon's Grand Military Road was constructed in six years at a public cost of the two great kingdoms of France and Italy, while Stevenson'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 superintendents. 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 excavations into embankments is so much a matter of mere time and hard work, but it is quite unnecessary for us 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 clay cross and other tunnels, water in the boggy and 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 the foundations of the piers alone. Another curious illustration of the mischief done by watering cuttings may be briefly mentioned, at a part of the North Midland line near Ambergate, it was necessary to pass along a hillside in a cutting a few yards deep. As the cutting proceeded, a seam of shale was cut across, lying at an inclination of six to one, and shortly afterwards the water, getting behind the bed of shale, 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 50,000 cubic yards, found that he had about 500,000 to remove. The execution of this part of the railway occupying 15 months instead of two. The Oakenshaw cutting near Wakefield was also of a very formidable character. About 600,000 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 400,000 yards of the same kind of excavation into embankment and spoil. But the progress of the works on the line was so rapid in 1839, that not less than 450,000 cubic yards of excavation were removed monthly. As a curiosity in construction, we may also mention a very delicate piece of work executed on the same railway at Bullbridge 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. Such another curious complication probably not existing. In order to prevent the possibility of the waters of the canal breaking in upon the works of the railroad, Mr. Stevenson 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 Stevenson 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. During the time that our engineer was engaged in superintending the execution of these undertakings, he was occupied on other projected railways in various parts of the country. He surveyed several lines in the neighbourhood of Glasgow, and afterwards routes along the east coast from Newcastle to Edinburgh, with a view of completing the main line of communication with London. When out on foot in the fields 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, everything 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 to him, for he rapidly noted the general configuration of the country, and inferred its geological structure. He afterwards remarked to a friend, I have planned many a railway travelling along in opposed shades, 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. Poor fool, 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 Hollyhead, between Leeds and Bradford, and between Lancaster and Maryport by the western coast. This latter was intended to form part of a west coast line to Scotland, Stephenson favouring it partly because of the flatness of the gradients, and also because it could be formed at comparatively small cost, whilst 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 Morecombe 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 10 miles of sands which lie between Polton, 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 watermark, provision being made by means of sufficient arches for the flow of 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 uneven line by Shapp Fell, was adopted. A railway has since been carried across the head of the bay, and it is not in probable that Stevenson's larger scheme of reclaiming this vast tract of land, now left bare at each receding tide, may yet be carried out. While occupied in carrying out the great railway undertakings which we have above so briefly described, Mr. Stevenson'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 over 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 in 1837, perhaps the busiest years of his life, he travelled by postchase alone upwards of 20,000 miles, and yet not less than six months out of the three years was spent in London. Hence there is comparatively little to record of Mr. Stevenson's private life at this period, during which he had scarcely a moment that he could call his own. 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 learnt the art of writing, and the nature of his duties, while engaged at the Killingworth colliery, precluded that facility and correspondence which only constant practice can give. He gradually however acquired great facility and dictation, and possessed the power of labouring continuously at this work. The gentleman who acted as his secretary in 1835, having informed us that during his busy season he one day dictated no fewer than 37 letters, several of them embodying the results of much close thinking and calculation. On another occasion he dictated reports and letters for 12 continuous hours, until his secretary was ready to drop off his chair from sheer exhaustion, and at length he pleaded for a suspension of the labour. This great mass of correspondence, although closely bearing on the subjects under discussion, was not however of a kind to supply the biographer with matter for quotation, or 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 caste and railway policy, curtain to the point. In short, the letters of a man every moment of whose time was precious. He was also frequently called upon to inspect and report upon colliery work, salt works, brass and copper works, and such like, in addition to his own colliery and railway business, and occasionally he would run up to London for the purpose of attending in person to the preparation and deposit of the plans and sections of the projected undertakings of which he had been appointed engineer. Fortunately Stevenson possessed a facility of sleeping which enabled him to pass through this enormous amount of fatigue and labour 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 shears, 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 springtime he would not be debarred of his boyish pursuit 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 favourite with the neighbouring farmers, to whom he would volunteer much valuable advice on agricultural operations, drainage, plowing, and labour-saving processes. Sometimes he took a long rural ride on his favourite Bobby, now growing old, but as fond of his master as ever. Towards the end of his life Bobby lived in Clover, its 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 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 upstairs, and there found in a retired part of one of the rooms her robins 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. Mr. Stevenson took up the bird, carried it downstairs, 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 Mr. Stevenson's sympathies. An incident such as this, trifling though it may seem, gives the true key to the heart of the man. The amount of their parliamentary business having greatly increased with the projection of new lines of railway, the Stevenson has found it necessary to set up an office in London in 1836. George's first office was at 9 Duke Street, Westminster, from whence he removed in the following year to 35 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, he became necessary for him to give instructions as to the preparation of the accounts to be rendered to the respective companies. In the simplicity of his heart he directed Mr. Binns to take his full time at the rate of 10 guineas a day and charge the railway companies in the proportion which he had actually been employed on 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 10 to 7 guineas. Besides his journeys at home Mr. Stevenson 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 that 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 kingdom, extending from Ostend eastwards to the Prussian frontier, and from Antwerp southwards to the French frontier. Mr. Stevenson and his son as the leading railway engineers of England were consulted by the king on the best mode of carrying out his important plans as early as 1835. 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 Stevenson by royal ordinance a night of the order of Leopold. At the invitation of the monarch Mr. Stevenson 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. Stevenson 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 ambassador being also present. After the king's health and a few others had been drunk, that of Mr. Stevenson was proposed, on which the whole assembly rose up, amidst 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 Lachen by special invitation, afterwards accompanying his majesty and suite to a public ball given by the municipality of Brussels in honour of the opening of the line to Ghent as well as of their distinguished English guest. On entering the room the general and excited inquiry was, which is Stevenson. 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 having been about five years in progress, the great main system of railway communication between London, Liverpool and Manchester was then open to the public. For some months previously the line had been partially opened, coaches performing the journey between Denby Hall, near Wolverton, and Rugby, the works of the Killsby Tunnel being still incomplete. It was already amusing to hear the complaints of the travellers about the slowness of the coaches as compared with the railway, though the coaches travelled at the 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 whilst the road convences were limited, and when a press of travellers occurred, as on the occasion of the queen's coronation, the greatest inconvenience was experienced and as much as ten pounds was paid for a seat on a donkey sheath between Rugby and Denby. 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 Mr Stevenson took place at about the same time. The Birmingham and Derby line was opened for traffic in August 1839, the Sheffield and Rollerham in November 1839, and in the course of the following year, the Midland, the York and North Midland, the Chester and Crew, the Chester and Birkenhead, the Manchester and Birmingham and 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 Stevenson's superintendents at a cost of upwards of 11 million 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 amidst the occasional booming of cannon. The proceedings were usually wound up by a public dinner, and in the course of the speeches which followed, Mr Stevenson would revert to his favourite 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 afterwards his assistants. No great master ever possessed a more devoted band of assistants and fellow workers than he did. It was one of the most marked evidences of his own 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 and to carry grand ideas into practical effect depends in no small measure on that intuitive knowledge of character which Stevenson possessed in so remarkable a degree. At the dinner at York, which followed the partial opening of the York and North Midland Railway, Mr Stevenson 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 labour as but a poor ploughboy. 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 valuable assistance, particularly from young men brought up in his manufacturing. 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 were down to Mr Stevenson's credit. He was no niggered of encouragement and praise when he saw honest industry struggling for a footing. Many were the young men whom in the course of his useful career he took by the hand and led steadily up to honour 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 recognised as an engineer of distinction. Another young man he found industriously working away at his buyers, and, admiring his diligence, engaged him for his private secretary, the gentleman shortly after rising to a position of eminent influence and usefulness. Indeed nothing gave Mr Stevenson 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 railway 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 horse flesh 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 stagecoach system. Those who had prophesied the decay of the metropolis, and the ruin of suburban cabbage growers, in consequence of the approach of railways to London, were also disappointed for, while the new roads let citizens out of London, they let country people in. Their action in this respect was centripetal, as well as centrihugal. 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 truckloads 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 metropolis and 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 readyer access to the best markets for their stock and farm produce. Notwithstanding the predictions to the contrary, their cows gave milk as before, their sheep fed and fattened, and even skittish horses ceased to shy at the passing locomotive. The smoke of the engines did not obscure the sky, nor were farm yards 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 anything to dred, they had a very much good to expect from the extension of the railways. Landlords also found that they could get higher rents for farms situated near a railway than a distance from one. Hence they became clamorous for sidings. They felt it to be 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 near a 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 travelling for the middle classes had heretofore been by male coach and stage coach. Those who could not afford to pay the high prices charged for such conveyances went by wagon, and the poorer classes trudged on foot. George Stevenson 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 past 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. It was some time before the more opulent, who could afford to post to town in aristocratic style, became reconciled to railway travelling. In the opinion of many, it was only another illustration of the levelling tendencies of the age. It put an end to that gradation in rank in travelling, which was one of the few things left by which the nobleman could be distinguished from the Manchester manufacturer and bagman. But two younger sons of noble families, the convenience and cheapness of the railway, did not fail to recommend itself. One of these, whose eldest brother had just succeeded to an earldom, said one day to a railway manager, I like railways, they just suit young fellows like me, with nothing per annum paid portally. You know we can't afford to post, and it used to be dused annoying to me as I was jogging along on the box seat of the stagecoach, to see the little earld 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 to the same place. 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 travelling. The late Dr. Arnold of Rugby regarded the opening of the London and Birmingham line as another great step accomplished in the march of civilisation. 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 edge roads. 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. Huskison, which had happened before his eyes, continued to prejudice him strongly against railways, and it was not until the year 1843 that he performed his first trip on the south-western 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 Sybthorpe 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 near his town, until at length he undisguisedly committed himself, like other people, to the express train, and performed the journey throughout upon what he had formally denounced as the Infernal Railroad. End of Chapter 14 Chapter 15 of Lives of the Engineers George and Robert Stevenson This LibreBox recording is in the public domain, read by Andy Minter. Lives of the Engineers George and Robert Stevenson by Samuel Smiles Chapter 15 George Stevenson's coal mines appears at Mechanics Institutes, his opinion on railway speeds, atmospheric system, railway mania, visits to Belgium and Spain. While George Stevenson was engaged in carrying on the works of the Midland Railway in the neighbourhood of Chesterfield, several seams of coal were cut through in the Clay Cross Tunnel, and it occurred to him that if mines were opened out there, the railway would provide the means of a ready sale for the article in the Midland Counties, and as far south as even the Metropolis itself. At a time when everybody else was sceptical as to the possibility of coals being carried from the Midland Counties to London and sold there at a price to compete with those which were seaborn, he declared his firm conviction that the time was fast approaching when the London market would be regularly supplied with North Country coals led by railway. One of the greatest advantages of railways, in his opinion, was that they would bring iron and coal, the staple products of the country, to the doors of all England. The strength of Britain, he would say, lies in her iron and coal beds, and the locomotive is destined above all other agencies to bring it forth. The Lord Chancellor now sits upon a bag of wool, but wool has long ceased to be emblematical of the staple commodity of England. He ought rather to sit upon a bag of coals, though it might not prove quite so comfortable a seat. Then think of the Lord Chancellor being addressed as the noble and learned Lord on the coalsack. I am afraid he wouldn't answer after all. To one gentleman, he said, we want from the coal mining, the iron producing and manufacturing districts a great railway for the carriage of these valuable products. We want, if I may say, a stream of steam running directly through the country from the North to London and from other similar districts to London. Speed is not so much an object as utility and cheapness. It will not do to mix up the heavy merchandise and coal trains with the passenger trains. Coal and most kinds of goods can wait, but passengers will not. A less perfect road and less expensive works will do well enough for coal trains if run at a low speed, and if the line be flat, it is not of much consequence whether it be direct or not. Whenever you put passenger trains on a line, all the other trains must be run at high speeds to keep out of their way. But coal trains run at high speeds pull the road to pieces, besides causing large expenditure in locomotive power, and I doubt very much whether they will pay after all. But a succession of long coal trains, if run from 10 to 14 miles an hour, would pay very well. Thus the Stockton and Darlington Company made a larger profit when running coal at low speeds at a hipony per tonne per mile than they have been able to do since they put on their fast passenger trains, when everything must be run faster, and a much larger proportion of the gross receipts is absorbed by working expenses. In advocating these views, Mr. Stephenson was considerably ahead of his time, and although he did not live to see his anticipations fully realised as to the supply of the London Coal Market, he was nevertheless the first to point out, and to some extent to prove the practicability of establishing a profitable coal trade by railway between the Northern Counties and the Metropolis. So long, however, as the traffic was conducted on main passenger lines at comparatively high speeds, it was found that the expenditure on tear and wear of road and locomotive power, not to mention the increased risk of carrying on the first class passenger traffic with which it was mixed up, necessarily left a very small margin of profit, and hence Mr. Stephenson was in the habit of urging the propriety of constructing a railway which would be exclusively devoted to goods and mineral traffic run at low speeds, as the only condition on which a large railway traffic of that sort could be profitably conducted. Having induced some of his Liverpool friends to join him in a coal mining adventure at Chesterfield, a lease was taken of the Clay Cross estate then for sale, and operations were shortly after begun. At a subsequent period Mr. Stephenson extended his coal mining operations in the same neighbourhood, and in 1841 he himself entered into a contract with the owners of land in the joining townships for the working of the coal there under, and pits were opened on the Tapton estate on an extensive scale. About the same time he erected great lineworks close to the Ambergate station of the Midland Railway, from which, when in full operation, he was able to turn out upwards of two hundred tonnes a day. The limestone was brought on a tramway from the village of Critch, two or three miles distant, the coal being supplied from his adjoining Clay Cross colliery. The works were on a scale such as had not before been attempted by any private individual engaged in a similar trade, and we believe they proved very successful. Tapton House was included in the lease of one of the collieries, and as it was conveniently situated, being as it were a central point on the Midland Railway, from which he could readily proceed north or south, on his journeys of inspection of the various lines then under construction in the Midland and Northern Counties, he took up his residence there, and it continued his home until the close of his life. Tapton House is a large roomy brick mansion, beautifully situated amidst woods on a commanding eminence, about a mile to the north-east of the town of Chesterfield. Green fields dotted with fine trees flow away from the house in all directions. The surrounding country is undulating and highly picturesque. North and south the eye ranges over a vast extent of lovely scenery, and on the west looking over the town of Chesterfield with its church and crooked spire, the extensive range of the Derbyshire Hills bounds the distance. The Midland Railway skirts the western edge of the park in a deep rock cutting, and the shrill whistle of the locomotive sounds near at hand as the trains speed past. The gardens and pleasure grounds adjoining the house were in a very neglected state when Mr Stephenson first went to Tapton, and he promised himself, when he had secured rest and leisure from business, that he would put a new face upon both. The first improvement he made was cutting a woodland footpath up the hillside, by which he, at the same time, added a beautiful feature to the park, and secured a shorter road to the Chesterfield station. But it was some years before he found time to carry into effect his contemplated improvements in the adjoining gardens and pleasure grounds. He had so long been accustomed to laborious pursuits, and felt himself still so full of work that he could not at once settle down into the habit of quietly enjoying the fruits of his industry. He had no difficulty in usefully employing his time. Besides directing the mining operations at Clay Cross, the establishment of the lime kilns at Ambergate, and the construction of the extensive railway still in progress, he occasionally paid visits to Newcastle, where his locomotive manufacturing was now in full work, and the proprietors were reaping the advantage of his early foresight in an abundant measure of prosperity. One of his most interesting visits to the place was in 1838, on the occasion of the meeting of the British Association there, when he acted as one of the Vice Presidents in the section of Mechanical Science. Extraordinary changes had occurred in his own fortunes, as well as in the face of the country, since he first appeared before a scientific body in Newcastle, the members of the Literary and Philosophical Institute, to submit his safety lamp for their examination. Twenty-three years had passed over his head, full of honest work, of manful struggle, and the humble colliery engine-right of the name of Stevenson had achieved an almost worldwide reputation as a public benefactor. His fellow townsmen, therefore, could not hesitate to recognize his merits and do honor to his name. During the sittings of the Association, Mr. Stevenson took the opportunity of paying a visit to Gillingworth, accompanied by some of the distinguished servants whom he numbered among his friends. He there, pointing out to them, with a degree of honest pride, the cottage in which he had lived for so many years, showed what parts of it had been his own handiwork, and told them the story of the sundial over the door, describing the study and the labor it had cost him and his son to calculate its dimensions, and fix it in its place. The dial had been serenely numbering the hours through the busy years that had elapsed, since that humble dwelling had been his home, during which the Gillingworth locomotive had become a great working power, and its contriver had established the railway system, which was now rapidly becoming extended in all parts of the world. About the same time his services were very much in request at the meetings of mechanics institutes held throughout the northern counties. From an early period in his history he had taken an active interest in these institutions. While residing in Newcastle in 1824, shortly after his locomotive foundry had been started in Fourth Street, he presided at a public meeting held in that town for the purpose of establishing a mechanics institute. The meeting was held, but as George Stevenson was a man comparatively unknown even in Newcastle at that time, his name failed to secure an influential attendance. Among those who addressed the meeting on the occasion was Joseph Locke, then his pupil, and afterwards his rival as an engineer. The local papers scarcely noticed the proceedings, yet the mechanics institute was founded and struggled into existence. Years passed, and it was now felt to be an honour to secure Mr. Stevenson's presence at any public meetings held for the promotion of popular education. Among the mechanics institutes in his immediate neighbourhood at Tapton were those of Belper and Chesterfield, and at their soirees he was a frequent and welcome visitor. On these occasions he loved to tell his auditors of the difficulties which had early beset him through want of knowledge and of the means by which he had overcome them. His grand text was persevere, and there was manhood in the very word. On more than one occasion the author had the pleasure of listening to George Stevenson's homelift but forcible addresses at the annual soirees of the Leeds Mechanics Institute. He was always an immense favourite with his audiences there. His personal appearance was greatly in his favour. A handsome, raddy, expressive face, lit up by bright, dark, blue eyes, prepared one for his earnest words when he stood up to speak and the cheers had subsided which invariably hailed his rising. He was not glib, but he was very impressive, and who, so well as he, could serve as a guide to the working man in his endeavours after higher knowledge. His early life had been all struggle, encounter with difficulty, groping in the dark after greater light, but always earnestly and perseveringly. His words were therefore all the more weighty since he spoke from the fullness of his own experience. Nor did he remain a mere inactive spectator of the improvements in railway working which increasing experience from day to day suggested. He continued to contrive improvements in the locomotive and to mature his invention of the carriage brake. When examined before the Select Committee on Railways in 1841, his mind seems principally to have been impressed with the necessity which existed for adopting a system of self-acting brakes, stating that, in his opinion, this was the most important arrangement that could be provided for increasing the safety of railway travelling. I believe, he said, that if self-acting brakes were put upon every carriage, scarcely any accident could take place. His plan consisted in employing the momentum of the running train to throw his proposed brakes into action immediately on the moving power of the engine being checked. He would also have these brakes under the control of the guard by means of a connecting line running along the whole length of the train by which they should at once be thrown out of gear when necessary. At the same time he suggested, as an additional means of safety, that the signals of the line should be self-acting and worked by the locomotives as they passed along the railway. He considered the adoption of this plan of so much importance that, with a view to the public safety, he would even have it enforced upon railway companies by the legislature. At the same time he was of opinion that it was in the interest of the companies themselves to adopt the plan, as it would save great wear and tear of engines, carriages, tenders, and brake fans, besides greatly diminishing the risk of accidents upon railways. While before the same committee he took the opportunity of stating his views with reference to railway speed, about which wild ideas would then afloat, one gentleman of celebrity having publicly expressed the opinion that a speed of a hundred miles an hour was practicable in railway travelling. Not many years had passed since George Stevenson had been pronounced insane for stating his conviction that twelve miles an hour could be performed by the locomotive, but now that he had established the fact and greatly exceeded that speed, he was thought behind the age because he recommended the rate to be limited to forty miles an hour. He said, I do not like either forty or fifty miles an hour upon any line, I think it is an unnecessary speed, and if there is danger upon a railway, it is high velocity that creates it. I should say no railway ought to exceed forty miles an hour on the most favourable gradient, but upon a curved line the speed ought not to exceed twenty-four or twenty-five miles an hour. He had indeed constructed for the great western railway an engine capable of running fifty miles an hour with a load and eighty miles without one, but he never was in favour of a hurricane speed of this sort, believing it could only be accomplished at a necessary increase both of danger and of expense. It is true, he observed on other occasions, I have said the locomotive engine might be made to travel a hundred miles an hour, but I always put a qualification on this, namely as to what speed would best suit the public. The public may, however, be unreasonable, and fifty or sixty miles an hour is an unreasonable speed. Long before railway travelling became general, I said to my friends that there was no limit to the speed of the locomotive, providing the works could be made to stand, but there are limits to the strength of iron, whether it be manufactured into rails or locomotives, and there is a point at which both rails and tyres must break. Every increase of speed by increasing the strain upon the road and the rolling stock brings us nearer to that point. At thirty miles a slighter road will do, and less perfect rolling stock may be run upon it with safety, but if you increase the speed by say ten miles then everything must be greatly strengthened. You must have heavier engines, heavier and better fastened rails, and all your working expenses will be immediately increased. I think I know enough of mechanics to know where to stop. I know that a pound will weigh a pound and that no more should be put upon an iron rail than it will bear. If you could ensure perfect iron, perfect rails, and perfect locomotives, I grant fifty miles an hour or more might be run with safety on a level railway. But then you must not forget that iron, even the best, will tire, and with constant use will become more and more liable to break at the weakest point, perhaps where there is a secret flaw that the eye cannot detect. Then look at the rubbishy rails now manufactured on the contract system, some of them little better than cast metal. Indeed I have seen rails break merely on being thrown from the truck onto the ground. How is it possible for such rails to stand a twenty or thirty ton engine dashing over them at the speed of fifty miles an hour? No, no, he would conclude. I am in favour of low speeds because they are safe, and because they are economical, and you may rely upon it that beyond a certain point, with every increase of speed, there is an increase in the element of danger. When railways became the subject of popular discussion, many new and unsound theories were started with reference to them, which Stevenson opposed as calculated, in his opinion, to bring discredit on the locomotive system. One of these was with reference to what were called undulating lines. Among others, Dr. Lardner, who had originally been somewhat skeptical about the powers of the locomotive, now promulgated the idea that a railway constructed with rising and falling gradients would be practically as easy to work as a line perfectly level. Mr. Badnell went even beyond him, for he held that an undulating railway was much better than a level one for purposes of working. For a time this theory found favour, and the undulating system was extensively adopted. But Mr. Stevenson never ceased to invade against it, and experience has amply proved that his judgment was correct. His practice, from the beginning of his career until the end of it, was to secure a road as nearly as possible on a level, following the courses of the valleys and the natural line of the country, preferring to go round a hill rather than to tunnel under it or carry his railway over it, and often making a considerable circuit to secure good workable gradients. He studied to lay out his lines so that long trains of minerals and merchandise, as well as passengers, might be hauled along them at the least possible expenditure of locomotive power. He had long before ascertained, by careful experiments at Killingworth, that the engine expends half of its power in overcoming a rising gradient of 1 in 260, which is about 20 feet in the mile, and that when the gradient is so steep as 1 in 100, not less than three-fourths of its power is sacrificed in ascending the aclivity. He never forgot the valuable practical lesson taught him by the early trials which he had made, and registered, long before the advantages of railways had been recognised. He saw clearly that the longer flat line must eventually prove superior to the shorter line of steep gradients as respected its paying qualities. He urged that, after all, the power of the locomotive was but limited, and although he and his son had done more than any other men to increase its working capacity, it provoked him to find that every improvement made in it was neutralised by the steep gradients which the new School of Engineers were setting it to overcome. On one occasion, when Robert Stevenson stated before a parliamentary committee that every successive improvement in the locomotive was being rendered virtually nuggetly by the difficult and almost impractical gradients proposed on many of the new lines, his father, on his Leaving the Witness box, went up to him and said, Robert, you never spoke true words than those in all your life. To this it must be added that in urging these views, Mr. Stevenson was strongly influenced by commercial considerations. He had no desire to build up his reputation at the expense of railway shareholders, nor to obtain engineering eclaire by making ducks and drakes of their money. He was persuaded that, in order to secure the practical success of railways, they must be so laid out as not only to prove of decided public utility, but also to be worked economically, and to the advantage of their proprietors. They were not government roads, but private ventures, in fact commercial speculations. He therefore endeavored to render them financially profitable, and he repeatedly declared that if he did not believe they could be made to pay, he would have nothing to do with them. He was not influenced by the sordid consideration of what he could make out of any company that employed him. Indeed, in many cases he voluntarily gave up his claim to remuneration, where the promoters of schemes which he thought praiseworthy had suffered serious loss. Thus, when the first application was made to Parliament for the Chester and Birkenhead Railway Bill, the promoters were defeated. They repeated their application on the understanding that, in the event of their succeeding, the engineer and surveyor were to be paid their costs in respect of the defeated measure. The bill was successful, and to several parties their costs were paid. Mr. Stevenson's amounted to £800, and he very nobly said, You have had an expensive career in Parliament. You have had a great struggle. You are a young company. You cannot afford to pay me this amount of money. I will reduce it to £200, and I will not ask you for that £200 until your shares are at £20 premium. For whatever may be the reverses you will go through, I am satisfied I shall live to see the day when your shares will be worth £20 premium, and when I can legally and honourably claim that £200. We may add that the shares did eventually rise to the premium specified, and the engineer was no loser by his generous conduct in the transaction. Another novelty of the time, with which George Stevenson had to contend, was the substitution of atmospheric pressure for locomotive steam power in the working of railways. The idea of obtaining motion by means of atmospheric pressure is said to have originated with Dennis Papin more than a hundred and fifty years ago, but it slept until revived in 1810 by Mr. Medhurst, who published a pamphlet to prove the practicability of carrying letters and goods by air. In 1824 Mr. Vallance of Brighton took out a pattern for projecting passengers through a tube large enough to contain a train of canages, the tube being previously exhausted of its atmospheric air. The same idea was afterwards taken up in 1835 by Mr. Pincas, an ingenious American. Scientific gentleman Dr. Lardner and Mr. Clegg, amongst others, advocated the plan, and an association was formed to carry it into effect. Shares were created, and £18,000 raised, and a model apparatus was exhibited in London. Mr. Vignol took his friend Stevenson to see the model, and after carefully examining it, he observed emphatically, it won't do. It's only the fixed engines and ropes over again in another form, and to tell you the truth, I don't think this rope of wind will answer so well as the rope of wire did. He did not think the principal would stand the test of practice, and he objected to the mode of employing the principal. After all, it was only a modification of the stationary engine plan, and every day's experience was proving that fixed engines could not compete with locomotives in point of efficiency and economy. He stood by the locomotive engine, and subsequent experience proved that he was right. Messrs. Clegg and Samudha afterwards, in 1840, patented their plan of an atmospheric railway, and they publicly tested its working on an unfinished portion of the West London railway. The results of the experiment were so satisfactory, that the directors of the Dublin and Kingstown line adopted it between Kingstown and Dalkey. The London and Croydon Company also adopted the atmospheric principal, and their line was opened in 1845. The ordinary mode of applying the power was to lay between the line of rails a pipe, in which a large piston was inserted, and attached by a shaft to the framework of a carriage. The propelling power was the ordinary pressure of the atmosphere, acting against the piston in the tube on one side, a vacuum being created in the tube on the other side of the piston, by the working of a stationary engine. Great was the popularity of the atmospheric system, and still George Stevens and said, It won't do, it's but a Jimcrack. Engineers of distinction said he was prejudiced, and that he looked upon the locomotive as a pet child of his own. Wait a little, he replied, and you will see that I am right. It was generally supposed that the locomotive system was about to be snuffed out. Not so fast, said Stevenson, let us wait to see if it will pay. He never believed it would. It was ingenious, clever, scientific, and all that, but railways were commercial enterprises, not toys, and if the atmospheric railway could not work to a profit it would not do. Considered in this light, he even went so far as to call it a great humbug. Nothing will beat the locomotive, said he, for efficiency in all weathers, for economy in drawing loads of average weight, and for power and speed as occasion may require. The atmospheric system was fairly and fully tried, and it was found wanting. It was admitted to be an exceedingly elegant mode of applying power, its devices were very skillful, and its mechanism was most ingenious, but it was costly, irregular in action, and in particular kinds of weather, not to be depended upon. At best it was but a modification of the stationary engine system, and experience proved it to be so expensive that it was shortly after entirely abandoned in favour of locomotive power. One of the remarkable results of the system of railway locomotion, which George Stevenson had by his persevering labours mainly contributed to establish, was the outbreak of railway mania towards the close of his professional career. The success of the first main lines of railway naturally led to their extension into many new districts, but a strongly speculative tendency soon began to display itself, which contained in it the elements of great danger. The extension of railways had up to the year 1844 been mainly affected by men of the commercial classes, and the shareholders in them principally belonged to the manufacturing districts, the capitalists of the metropolis as yet holding aloof and prophesying disaster to all concerned in railway projects. But when the lugubrious anticipations of the city men was found to be so entirely falsified by the results, when, after the lapse of years, it was as sustained that railway traffic rapidly increased, and dividends steadily improved, a change came over the spirit of the London capitalists. They then invested largely in railways, the shares in which became a leading branch of business on the stock exchange, and the prices of some rose to nearly double their original value. A stimulus was thus given to the projection of further lines, the shares in most of which came out at a premium, and became the subject of immediate traffic. A reckless spirit of gambling set in, which completely changed the character and objects of railway enterprise. The public outside the stock exchange became also infected, and many persons utterly ignorant of railways, knowing and caring nothing about their national uses, but hungering and thirsting after premiums rushed eagerly into the vortex. They applied for allotments, and subscribed for shares in lines of the engineering character or probable traffic of which they knew nothing. Providing they could but obtain allotments which they could sell at a premium, and put the profit, in many cases the only capital they possessed into their pocket, it was enough for them. The mania was not confined to the precincts of the stock exchange, but infected all ranks. It embraced merchants and manufacturers, gentry and shopkeepers, clerks in public offices and loungers at the clubs. Noble lords were pointed out as stags. There were even clergymen who were characterised as bulls, and amiable ladies who had the reputation of bears in the share markets. The few quiet men who remained uninfluenced by the speculation of the time, were, in not a few cases, even reproached for doing injustice to their families, in declining to help themselves from the stores of wealth that were poured out on all sides. Folly and Navery were for a time completely in the ascendant. The sharpers of society were let loose, and jobbers and schemers became more and more plentiful. They threw out railway schemes as lures to catch the unwary. They fed the mania with a constant succession of new projects. The railway papers became loaded with their advertisements. The post-office was scarcely able to distribute the multitude of prospectuses and circulars which they issued. For a time their popularity was immense. They rose like froth into the upper heights of society, and the flunky Fitzplush by virtue of his supposed wealth sat among peers and was idolised. Then was the harvest time of scheming lawyers, parliamentary agents, engineers, surveyors, and traffic-takers, who were ready to take up any railway scheme, however desperate, and to prove any amount of traffic, even when none existed. The traffic in the credulity of their dupes was, however, the great fact that mainly concerned them, and of the profitable character of which there could be no doubt. Mr. Stevenson was anxiously entreated to lend his name to prospectuses during the railway mania, but he invariably refused. He held aloof from the headlong folly of the hour, and endeavored to check it, but in vain. Had he been less scrupulous and given his countenance to the numerous projects about which he was consulted, he might, without any trouble, have thus secured enormous gains. But he had no desire to accumulate a fortune without labour and without honour. He himself never speculated in shares. When he was satisfied as to the merits of any undertaking, he subscribed for a certain amount of capital in it, and held on, neither buying nor selling. At a dinner of the Leeds and Bradford directors at Ben-Riding in October 1844, before the mania had reached its height, he warned those present against the prevalent disposition towards railway speculation. It was, he said, like walking on a piece of ice with shallows and deeps. The shallows were frozen over, and they would carry, but it required great caution to get over the deeps. He was satisfied that in the course of the next year many would step onto places not strong enough to carry them, and would get into the deeps. They would be taking shares, and afterwards be unable to pay the calls upon them. Yorkshiremen were reckoned clever men, and his advice to them was to stick together and promote communication in their own neighbourhood, not to go abroad with their speculations. If any had done so, he advised them to get their money back as fast as they could, for if they did not, they would not get it at all. He informed the company at the same time of his earliest holding of railway shares. It was in the Stockton and Darlington Railway, and the number he held was three. A very large capital for him to possess at the time, but a Stockton friend was anxious to possess a share, and he sold him one at a premium F-33 shillings. He supposed he had been about the first man in England to sell a railway share at a premium. During 1845 his son's offices in Great George Street Westminster were crowded with persons of various conditions seeking interviews, presenting very much the appearance of the levee of a minister of state. The burly figure of Mr Hudson, the railway king, surrounded by an admiring group of followers, was often to be seen there, and a still more interesting person, in the estimation of many, was George Stevenson, dressed in black, his coat of a somewhat old-fashioned cut, with square pockets in the tails. He wore a white neck-cloth, and a large bunch of seals was suspended from his watch-ribbon. Altogether he presented an appearance of health, intelligence, and good humour, that rejoiced one to look upon in that sordid, selfish, and eventually ruinous satanalia of railway speculation. Powers were granted by Parliament in 1843 to construct not less than 2,883 miles of new railways in Britain, at an expenditure of about 44 million sterling. Yet the mania was not appeased, for in the following section of 1846 applications were made to Parliament for powers to raise £389 million of sterling for the construction of further lines, and powers were actually conceded for forming 4,790 miles, including 60 miles of tunnel, at a cost of about £120 million sterling. During this session Mr Stevenson appeared as engineer for only one new line, the Buxton-Macklesfield-Congelton and Crew Railway, a line in which as coal owner he was personally interested, and of three branch lines in connection with existing companies, for which he had long acted as engineer. At the same time all the leading professional men were fully occupied, some of them appearing as consulting engineers for upwards of 30 lines each. One of the features of the mania was the range for direct lines, which everywhere displayed itself. There were direct Manchester, direct Exeter, direct York, and indeed new direct lines between most of the large towns. The Marquis of Bristol, speaking in favour of the direct Norwich and London project, at a public meeting at Haverhill, said, if necessary, they might make a tunnel beneath his very drawing-room, rather than be defeated in their undertaking. And the Reverend F. Litchfield, at a meeting in Banbury on the subject of a line to that town, said, he had laid down for himself a limit to his approbation of railways, at least of such as approached the neighbourhood with which he was connected, and that limit was that he did not wish them to approach any nearer to him than to run through his bedroom with the bed-post for a station. How different was the spirit which influenced these noble lords and gentlemen but a few years before? The House of Commons became thoroughly influenced by the prevailing excitement. Even the Board of Trade began to favour the views of the Fast School of Engineers in their report on the lines projected in the Manchester and Leeds District. They promulgated some remarkable views respecting gradients, declaring themselves in favour of the undulating system. They there stated that lines of an undulating character, which have gradients of 1 in 70 or 80, distributed over them in short lengths, may be positively better lines, i.e., more susceptible of cheap and expeditious working, than others which have nothing steeper than 1 in 100 or 1 in 120. They concluded by reporting in favour of the line which exhibited the worst gradients and the sharpest curves chiefly on the ground that it could be constructed for less money. Sir Robert Peale took occasion to advert to this report in the House of Commons on the 4th of March following as containing a novel and highly important view on the subject of gradients, which he was certain never could have been taken by any committee of the House of Commons, however intelligent, and he might have added that the more intelligent, the less likely they were to arrive at any such conclusion. When Mr. Stevenson saw this report of the Premier's speech in the newspapers of the following morning, he went forthwith to his son and asked him to write a letter to Sir Robert Peale on the subject. He saw clearly that if these views were adopted, the utility and economy of railways would be seriously curtailed. These members of Parliament, said he, are now as much disposed to exaggerate the powers of the locomotive as they were to underestimate them but a few years ago. Robert accordingly wrote a letter for his father's signature, embodying the views which he so strongly entertained as to the importance of flat gradients, and referring to the experiments conducted by him many years before, in proof of the great loss of working-power which was incurred on a line of steep, as compared with easy gradients. It was clear from the tone of Sir Robert Peale's speech in a subsequent debate that he had carefully read and considered Mr. Stevenson's practical observations on the subject, though it did not appear that he had come to any definite conclusion thereon, further than that he strongly approved of the Trent Valley Railway, by which Tamworth would be placed upon a direct main line of communication. The result of the labours of Parliament was a tissue of legislative bungling, involving enormous loss to the public. Railway bills were granted in heaps, 272 additional acts were passed in 1846. Some authorised the construction of lines running almost parallel to existing railways, in order to afford the public the benefits of unrestricted competition. Locomotives and atmospheric lines, broad gauge and narrow gauge lines were granted without hesitation. Committees decided without judgement and without discrimination. It was a scramble for bills in which the most unscrupulous were the most successful. Among the many ill effects of the mania, one of the worst was that it introduced a low tone of morality into railway transactions. The bad spirit which had been evoked by it, unhappily extended to the commercial classes, and many of the most flagrant swindles of recent times had their origin in the year 1845. Those who had suddenly gained large sums without labour, and also without honour, were too ready to enter upon courses of the wildest extravagance, and a false style of living shortly arose, the poisonous influence of which extended through all classes. Men began to look upon railways as instruments to job with. Persons, sometimes possessing information respecting railways, but more frequently possessing none, got upon boards for the purpose of promoting their individual objects, often in a very unscrupulous manner. Landowners to promote branch lines through their property, speculators in shares to trade upon the exclusive information which they obtained, while some directors were appointed through the influence mainly of solicitors, contractors, or engineers, who used them as tools to serve their own ends. In this way, the unfortunate proprietors were, in many cases, betrayed, and their property was shamefully squandered, much to the discredit of the railway system. While the mania was at its height in England, railways were also being extended abroad, and George Stevenson was requested on several occasions to give the benefit of his advice to the directors of foreign undertakings. One of the most agreeable of these excursions was to Belgium in 1845. His special object was to examine the proposed line of the Sandra and Merse railway, for which a concession had been granted by the Belgian legislature. Arrived on the ground, he went carefully over the entire length of the proposed line, from Conva, the forest of Ardennes, and Roquois across the French frontier, examining the bearings of the Coalfield, the Slate, and Marble quarries, and the numerous iron mines in existence between the Sandra and the Merse, as well as carefully exploring the ravines which extended through the district, in order to satisfy himself that the best possible route had been selected. Mr. Stevenson was delighted with the novelty of the journey, the beauty of the scenery, and the industry of the population. His companions were entertained by his ample and varied stores of practical information on all subjects, and his conversation was full of reminiscences of his youth, on which he always delighted to dwell, when in the society of his more intimate friends. The journey was varied by a visit to the coal mines near Jermap, where Stevenson examined with interest the mode adopted by the Belgian miners of draining the pits, inspecting their engines and braking machines, so familiar to him in early life. The engineers of Belgium took the opportunity of Mr. Stevenson's visit to their country to invite him to a magnificent banquet at Brussels. The public hall in which they entertained him was gaily decorated with flags, prominent among which was the Union Jack, in honour of their distinguished guest. A handsome marble pedestal ornamented with his bust, crowned with laurels, occupied one end of the room. The chair was occupied by Monsieur Masui, the chief director of the National Railways of Belgium, and the most eminent scientific men of the kingdom were present. Their reception of the father of railways was of the most enthusiastic description. Mr. Stevenson was greatly pleased with the entertainment. Not the least interesting incident of the evening was his observing, when the dinner was about half over, a model of a locomotive engine placed upon the centre table under a triumphal arch. Turning suddenly to his friend Sopwith, he exclaimed, Do you see the rocket? The compliment, thus paid him, was perhaps more prized than all the encomiums of the evening. The next day, April 5th, King Leopold invited him to a private interview at the palace. Accompanied by Mr. Sopwith, he proceeded to Larkin, and was very cordially received by his Majesty. The King immediately entered into familiar conversation with him, discussing the railway project which had been the object of his visit to Belgium, and then the structure of the Belgian Coalfields, his Majesty explaining his sense of the great importance of economy in a fuel which had become indispensable to the comfort and well-being of society, which was the basis of all manufacturers and the vital power of railway locomotion. The subject was always a favourite one with Mr. Stevenson, and, encouraged by the King, he proceeded to describe to him the geological structure of Belgium, the original formation of coal, its subsequent elevation by volcanic forces, and the vast amount of denudation. In describing the coal-beds he used his hat as a sort of model to illustrate his meaning, and the eyes of the King were fixed upon it, as he proceeded with his interesting description. The conversation then passed to the rise and progress of trade and manufacturers. Mr. Stevenson pointing out how closely they everywhere followed the coal, being mainly dependent upon it as they were for their very existence. The King seemed greatly pleased with the interview, and at its close expressed himself obliged by the interesting information which the engineer had communicated. Shaking hands cordially with both the gentlemen and wishing them success in their important undertakings, he bade the majeure. As they were leaving the palace, Mr. Stevenson, bitting him of the model by which he had just been illustrating the Belgian coalfields, said to his friend, By the by, Sopwith, I was afraid the King would see the inside of my hat. It's a shocking bad one. Little could George Stevenson, when breaksman at a coal pit, have dreamt that in the course of his life he should be admitted to an interview with a monarch, and described to him the manner in which the geological foundations of his kingdom had been laid. Mr. Stevenson paid a second visit to Belgium in the course of the same year, on the business of the West Planders Railway, and he had scarcely returned from it, ere he made arrangements to proceed to Spain for the purpose of examining and reporting upon a scheme then on foot for constructing the Royal North of Spain Railway. A concession had been made by the Spanish government of a line of railway from Madrid to the Bay of Biscay, and a numerous staff of engineers was engaged in surveying it. The directors of the company had declined making the necessary deposits until more favourable terms had been secured, and so Joshua Walmsley, on their part, was about to visit Spain and press the government on the subject. Mr. Stevenson, whom he consulted, was alive to the difficulties of the office which the Joshua was induced to undertake, and offered to be his companion and advisor on the occasion, declining to receive any recompense beyond the simple expenses of the journey. He could only arrange to be absent for six weeks, and set out from England about the middle of September, 1845. The party was joined at Paris by Mr. McKenzie, the contractor for the Orleans and Tours Railway, then in course of construction, who took them over the works, and accompanied them as far as tours. They soon reached the great chain of the Pyrenees, and crossed over into Spain. It was on a Sunday evening after a long day's toilsome journey through the mountains, that the parties suddenly found themselves in one of those beautiful secluded valleys lying amidst the western Pyrenees. A small hamlet lay before them, consisting of some thirty or forty houses, and a fine old church. The sun was low on the horizon, and under the wide porch beneath the shadow of the church were seated nearly all the inhabitants of the place. They were dressed in their holiday attire. The bright bits of red and amber colour in the dresses of the women, and the gay sashes of the men, formed a striking picture on which the travellers gazed in silent admiration. It was something entirely novel and unexpected. Beside the villagers sat two venerable old men, whose canonical hats indicated their quality as village pastors. Two groups of young women and children were dancing outside the porch to the accompaniment of a simple pipe, and within a hundred yards of them some of the youths of the village were disporting themselves in athletic exercises, the whole being carried on beneath the fostering care of the old church, and with the sanction of its ministers. It was a beautiful scene, and deeply moved the travellers as they approached the principal group. The villagers greeted them courteously, supplied their present wants, and pressed upon them some fine melons, brought from their rejoining gardens. Mr. Stevenson used afterwards to look back upon that simple scene, and speak of it as one of the most charming pastorals he had ever witnessed. They shortly reached the site of the proposed railway, passing through Iran, San Sebastian, San Andero, and Bilbao, at which places they met deputations of the principal inhabitants who were interested in the subject of their journey. At Reynosa, Stevenson carefully examined the mountain passes and ravines through which a railway could be made. He rose at break of day and surveyed until the darkness set in, and frequently his resting place at night was the floor of some miserable hovel. He was thus laboriously occupied for ten days, after which he proceeded across the province of old Castile towards Madrid, surveying as he went. The proposed plan included the purchase of the Castile Canal, and that property was also surveyed. He next proceeded to El Escorial, situated at the foot of the Guadorama Mountains, through which he found that it would be necessary to construct two formidable tunnels, added to which he ascertained that the country between El Escorial and Madrid was of a very difficult and expensive character to work through. Taking these circumstances into account, and looking at the expected traffic on the proposed line, Shadoshua Wormsley, acting under the advice of Mr. Stevenson, offered to construct the line from Madrid to the Bay of Biscay, only on condition that the requisite land was given to the company for the purpose, that they should be allowed every facility for cutting such timber belonging to the crown, as might be required for the purposes of the railway, and also that the materials required from abroad for the construction of the line should be admitted free of duty. In return for these concessions, the company offered to clothe and feed several thousands of convicts, while engaged in the execution of the earthworks. General Navarres, afterwards Duke of Valencia, received Shadoshua Wormsley and Mr. Stevenson on the subject of their proposition, and expressed his willingness to close with them, but it was necessary that other influential parties should give their concurrence, before the scheme could be carried into effect. The deputation waited ten days to receive the answer of the Spanish government, but no answer of any kind was vouchsafed. The authorities indeed invited them to be present at a Spanish bullfight, but that was not quite the business Mr. Stevenson had gone all the way to Spain to transact, and the offer was politely declined. The result was that Mr. Stevenson dissuaded his friend from making the necessary deposit at Madrid. Besides, he had by this time formed an unfavourable opinion of the entire project, and considered that the traffic would not amount to one-eighth of the estimate. Mr. Stevenson was now anxious to be in England. During the journey from Madrid, he often spoke with affection of friends and relatives, and when apparently absorbed by other matters, he would revert to what he thought might then be passing at home. Few incidents worthy of notice occurred on the journey homeward, but one may be mentioned. While travelling in an open conveyance between Madrid and Victoria, the driver urged his mules down hill at a dangerous pace. He was requested to slacken speed, but, suspating his passengers to be afraid, he only flogged the brutes into a still more furious gallop. Observing this, Mr. Stevenson coolly said, Let us try him on the other tack. Tell him to show us the fastest pace at which Spanish mules can go. The rogue of a driver, when he found his tricks of no avail, pulled up, and proceeded at a more moderate speed for the rest of the journey. Urgent business required Mr. Stevenson's presence in London on the last day of November. They travelled, therefore, almost continuously, day and night, and the fatigue consequent upon the journey, added to the privations voluntarily and endured by the engineer, while carrying on the survey among the Spanish mountains, began to tell seriously on his health. By the time he reached Paris, he was evidently ill, but he nevertheless determined on proceeding. He reached La Havre in time for the Southampton boat, but when on board, pleuricy developed itself, and it was necessary to bleed him freely. During the voyage he spent his time, chiefly in dictating letters and reports, to Sir Joshua Walmsley, who never left him, and whose kindness on the occasion he gratefully remembered. His friend was struck by the clearness of his dictated composition, which exhibited a vigor and condensation, which to him seemed marvellous. After a few weeks rest at home, Mr. Stevenson gradually recovered, though his health remained severely shaken.