 CHAPTER XI. Robert Stevenson's Residence in Columbia and Return, The Battle of the Locomotive, The Rocket. We returned to the career of Robert Stevenson, who had been absent from England during the construction of the Liverpool Railway, but was shortly about to join his father and take part in The Battle of the Locomotive, which was now in pending. On his return from Edinburgh College, in the summer of 1823, he had assisted in the survey of the Stockton and Darlington line, and when the Locomotive engine works were started in 4th Street, Newcastle, he took an active part in that concern. The factory, he says, was in active operation early in 1824, I left England for Columbia in June of that year, having finished drawing the designs of the Brusselton stationery engines for the Stockton and Darlington Railway before I left. The speculation was very rife at the time, and among the most promising adventures were the companies organised for the purpose of working the gold and silver mines of South America. Great difficulty was experienced in finding mining engineers capable of carrying out those projects, and young men of even the most moderate experience were eagerly sought after. The Columbian Mining Association of London offered an engagement to young Stevenson to go out to Marikita and take charge of the engineering operations of that company. Robert was himself desirous of accepting it, but his father said it would first be necessary to ascertain whether the proposed change would be for his good. His health had been very delicate for some time, partly occasioned by his rapid growth, but principally because of his close application to work and study. Father and son together called upon Dr Hedlum, the eminent physician of Newcastle, to consult him on the subject. During the examination which ensued, Robert afterwards used to say that he felt as if he were upon trial for life or death. To his great relief, the doctor pronounced that a temporary residence in a warm climate was the very thing likely to be most beneficial to him. The appointment was accordingly accepted, and before many weeks had passed, Robert Stevenson set sail for South America. After a tolerably prosperous voyage, he landed at a laguera on the north coast of Venezuela on the 23rd of July, from thence proceeding to Caracas, the capital of the district about fifteen miles inland. There he remained for two months, unable to proceed in consequence of the wretched state of the roads in the interior. He contrived, however, to make occasional excursions in the neighborhood with the night of the mining business on which he had come. At the beginning of October, he set out for Bogota, the capital of Colombia, or New Granada. The distance was about twelve hundred miles, through a very difficult region, and it was performed entirely upon muleback after the fashion of the country. In the course of the journey, Robert visited many of the districts reported to be rich in minerals, but he met with few traces except of copper, iron and coal, with occasional indications of gold and silver. He found the people ready to furnish information, which, however, when tested, usually proved worthless. A guide whom he employed for weeks kept him buoyed up with the hope of richer mining quarters than he had yet seen, but when he professed to be able to show him minds of brass, steel, alcohol and pinch-beck, Stevenson discovered him to be an incorrigible rogue, and immediately dismissed him. At length our traveller reached Bogota, and after an interview with Mr. Illingworth, the commercial manager of the mining company, he proceeded to Honda, crossed the Magdalena, and shortly after reached the site of his intended operations on the eastern slopes of the Andes. Mr. Stevenson used afterwards to speak in glowing terms of this his first mule journey in South America. Everything was entirely new to him—the variety and beauty of the indigenous plants, the luxurious tropical vegetation, the appearance, manners, and dress of the people, and the mode of travelling were all together different from everything he had seen before. His own travelling garb also must have been strange, even to himself. My hat, he said, was of platted grass, with a crown nine inches in height, surrounded by a brim of six inches, a white cotton suit, and a roana of blue and crimson plaid, with a hole in the centre for the head to pass through. This cloak is admirably adapted for the purpose, ampli-covering the rider and mule, and at night answering the purpose of a blanket in the net hammock, which is made from fibres of the aloe and which every traveller carries before him on his mule, and suspends to the trees or in houses as occasion may require. The part of the journey which seems to have made the most lasting impression on his mind was that between Bogota and the mining district in the neighbourhood of Marikita. As he ascended the slopes of the mountain range, and reached the first step of the table-land, he was struck beyond expression with the noble view of the valley of the Magdalena behind him, so vast that he failed in attempting to define the point at which the course of the river blended with the horizon. Like all travellers in the district, he noted the remarkable changes of climate and vegetation as he rose from the burning plains towards the fresh breath of the mountains. From an atmosphere as hot as that of an oven, he passed into delicious cool air, until in his onward and upward journey a still more temperate region was reached, the very perfection of climate. Before him rose the majestic Cordilleras, forming a rampart against the western skies, at certain times of the day looking black, sharp, and at their summit almost as even as a wall. Our engineer took up his abode for a time at Marikita, a fine old city, though then greatly decayed. During the period of the Spanish Dominion it was an important place, most of the gold and silver convoys passing through it on their way to Cordegena, there to be shipped in galleons for Europe. The mountainous country to the west was rich in silver, gold and other metals, and it was Mr Stevenson's object to select the best site for commencing operations for the company. With this object he prospected about in all directions, visiting long abandoned mines and analysing specimens obtained from many quarters. The mines eventually fixed upon as the seed of his operations were those of La Manta and Santa Ana, long before worked by the Spaniards, though in consequence of the luxuriance and rapidity of the vegetation, all traces of the old workings had become completely overgrown and lost. Everything had to be begun anew. Roads had to be cut to the mines, machinery to be erected, and the ground opened up, in course of which some of the old adits were hit upon. The native peons or labourers were not accustomed to work, and at first they usually contrived to desert, when they were not watched, so that very little progress could be made until the arrival of the expected band of miners from England. The authorities were by no means helpful, and the engineer was driven to an old expedient with the object of overcoming this difficulty. We endeavour all we can, he says in one of his letters, to make ourselves popular, and this we find most effectually accomplished by regaling the venal beasts. He also gave a ball at Marikita, which passed off with Eklah, the governor from Honda, with a host of friends, honouring it with their presence. It was indeed necessary to make a party in this way, as other schemers were already trying to undermine the Columbian company in influential directions. The engineer did not exaggerate when he said, the uncertainty of transacting business in this country is perplexing beyond description. At last his party of miners arrived from England, but they gave him even more trouble than the peons had done. They were rough, drunken, and sometimes altogether ungovernable. He set them to work at the Santa Ana mine without delay, and at the same time took up his abode among them, to keep them, he said, if possible, from indulging in the detestable vice of drunkenness, which, if not put a stop to, will eventually destroy themselves and involve the mining association in ruin. To add to his troubles, the captain of the miners displayed a very hostile and insubordinate spirit, quarrelled and fought with the men, and was insolent to the engineer himself. The captain and his gang, being Cornishmen, told Robert to his face that because he was a North Countryman, and not born in Cornwall, it was impossible that he should know anything of mining. Disease also fell upon him, first fever, and then visceral derangement, followed by a return of his old complaint, a feeling of oppression in the rest. No wonder that in the midst of these troubles he should longingly speak of returning to his native land, but he stuck to his post and his duty, kept up his courage, and by a mixture of mildness and firmness, and the display of great coolness of judgment, he contrived to keep the men to their work, and gradually to carry forward the enterprise which he had undertaken. By the beginning of July, 1826, we find that quietness and order had been restored, and the works were proceeding more satisfactorily, though the yield of silver was not, as yet, very promising. Mr. Stevenson calculated that at least three years diligent and costly operations would be needed to render the mines productive. In the meantime he removed to the dwelling which had been erected for his accommodation at Santa Ana. It was a structure speedily raised after the fashion of the country. The walls were of split and flattened bamboo, tied together with the long fibres of a dried climbing plant. The roof was of palm leaves and the ceiling of reeds. When an earthquake shut the district, for earthquakes were frequent, the inmates of such a fabric merely felt as if shaken in a basket without sustaining any harm. In front of the cottage lay a woody ravine, extending almost to the base of the Andes, gorgeously clothed in primeval vegetation, magnolias, palms, bamboos, tree ferns, acacia, cedars, and towering over all the great almendrons, with their smooth silvery stems, bearing aloft noble clusters of pure white blossom. The forest was haunted by myriads of gay insects, butterflies with wings of dazzling luster, birds of brilliant plumage, hummingbirds, golden orioles, toucans, and a host of solitary warblers. But the glorious sunsets seen from his cottage porch, more than all astonished and delighted the young engineer, and he was accustomed to say that, after having witnessed them, he was reluctant to accuse the ancient Peruvians of idolatry. But all these natural beauties failed to reconcile him to the harassing difficulties of his situation, which continued to increase rather than diminish. He was hampered by the action of the board at home, who gave ear to hostile criticisms on his reports, and although they afterwards made handsome acknowledgement of his services, he felt his position to be altogether unsatisfactory. He therefore determined to leave at the expiry of his three years' engagement, and communicated his decision to the directors accordingly. On receiving his letter, the board, through Mr. Richardson of Lombard Street, one of the directors, communicated with his father at Newcastle, representing that if he would allow his son to remain in Columbia, the company would make it worth his while. To this the father gave a decided negative, and intimated that he himself needed his son's assistance, and that he must return at the expiry of his three years' term. A decision, writes Robert, at which I felt much gratified, as it is clear that he is as anxious to have me back in England as I am to get there. At the same time, Edward Pease, a principal partner in the Newcastle firm, privately wrote Robert to the following effect, urging his return home. I can assure thee that thy business at Newcastle, as well as thy father's engineering, have suffered very much from thy absence, and that unless thou soon return the former will be given up, as Mr. Longridge is not able to give it that attention it requires, and what is done is not done with credit to the house. The idea of the manufacturing being given up, which Robert had laboured so hard to establish, before leaving England, was painful to him in the extreme, and he wrote to the manager of the company, strongly urging that arrangements should be made for him to leave without delay. In the meantime he was again laid prostrate by another violent attack of aguish fever, and when able to write in June 1827 he expressed himself as completely wearied and worn down with vexation. At length, when he was sufficiently recovered from his attack and able to travel, he set out on his voyage homeward in the beginning of August. At Montpox, on his way down the river Magdalena, he met Mr. Bodmer, his successor, with a fresh party of minors from England, on their way up the country to the quarters which he had just quitted. Next day, six hours after leaving Montpox, a steamboat was met ascending the river, with Bollyvard the Liberator on board, on his way to Sambogatá, and it was a mortification to our engineer that he had only a passing sight of that distinguished person. It was his intention on leaving Marikita to visit the Isthmus of Panama on his way home, for the purpose of inquiring into the practicability of cutting a canal to unite the Atlantic and Pacific, a project which then formed the subject of considerable public discussion, but his presence being so anxiously desired at home, he determined to proceed to New York without delay. Arriving at the port of Cartagena, he had to wait some time for a ship. The delay was very irksome to him, the more so as the city was then desolated by the ravages of the Yellow Fever. While sitting one day in the large, bare, comfortless public room at the miserable hotel at which he put up, he observed two strangers, whom he at once perceived to be English. One of the strangers was a tall gauntman, shrunken and hollow-looking, shabbily dressed, and apparently poverty-stricken. On making inquiry he found a gypsy travithic, the builder of the first railroad locomotive. He was returning home from the gold mines of Peru, Penilas. He had left England in 1816 with powerful steam engines intended for the drainage and working of the Peruvian mines. He met with almost a royal reception on his landing at Lima. A guard of honor was appointed to attend him, and it was even proposed to erect a statue of Don Ricardo Travithic in solid silver. It was given forth in Cornwall that his emoluments amounted to £100,000 a year, and that he was making a gigantic fortune. Great, therefore, was Robert Stevenson's surprise. To find this potent Don Ricardo in the inn at Cartagena reduced almost to his last chilling, and unable to proceed further. He had indeed realized the truth of the Spanish proverb that a silver mine brings misery, a gold mine ruin. He and his friend had lost everything in their journey across the country from Peru. They had forded rivers and wandered through forests, leaving all their baggage behind them, and had reached thus far with little more than the clothes upon their backs. Almost the only remnant of precious metal saved by Travithic was a pair of silver spurs, which he took back with him to Cornwall. Robert Stevenson lent him £50 to enable him to reach England, and though he was afterwards heard of as an inventor there, he had no further part in the ultimate triumph of the locomotive. But Travithic's misadventures on this occasion had not yet ended, for before he reached New York he was wrecked, and Robert Stevenson with him. The following is the account of the voyage, big with adventures, as given by the latter in a letter to his friend Dillingworth. At first we had very little foul weather, and indeed were for several days becalmed among the islands, which were so far fortunate, for a few degrees further north the most tremendous gales were blowing, and they appear, from our future information, to have wrecked every vessel exposed to their violence. We had two examples of the effects of the hurricane, for as we sailed north we took on board the remains of two crews found floating about on dismantled hulls. The one had been nine days without food of any kind, except the carcasses of two of their companions, who had died a day or two previously from fatigue and hunger. The other crew had been driven about for six days, and were not so dejected, but reduced to such a weak state that they were obliged to be drawn on board our vessel by ropes. A brig bound for Havana took part of the men, and we took the remainder. To attempt any description of my feelings on witnessing such scenes would be in vain. You will not be surprised to learn that I felt somewhat uneasy at the thought that we were so far from England, than that I also might possibly suffer a similar shipwreck. But I consoled myself with the hope that fate would be more kind to us. It was not so much so, however, as I had flattered myself, for on voyaging towards New York after we had made the land we ran aground about midnight. The vessel soon filled with water, and being surrounded by the breaking surf the ship was soon split up, and before morning our situation became perilous. Masts and all were cut away to prevent the hull rocking, but all we could do was of no avail. About eight o'clock on the following morning, after a most miserable night, we were taken off the rig, and were so fortunate as to reach the shore. I saved my minerals, but Empson lost part of his botanical collection. Upon the hull we got off well, and had I not been on the American side of the Atlantic, I guess I would not have gone to sea again. After a short tour in the United States and Canada, Robert Stevenson and his friend took ship for Liverpool, where they arrived at the end of November, and at once proceeded to Newcastle. The factory was by no means in a prosperous state. During the time Robert had been in America it had been carried on at a loss, and Edward Pease, much disheartened, wished to retire. But George Stevenson was unable to buy him out, and the establishment had to be carried on in the hope that the locomotive might yet be established in public estimation as a practical and economical working power. Robert Stevenson immediately instituted a rigid inquiry into the working of the concern, unraveled the accounts which had fallen into confusion during his father's absence at Liverpool, and he soon succeeded in placing the affairs of the factory in a more healthy condition. In all this he had the hearty support of his father, as well as of the other partners. The works of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway were now approaching completion, but singular to say the directors had not yet decided as to the attractive power to be employed in working the line when open for traffic. The differences of opinion among them were so great as apparently to be irreconcilable. It was necessary, however, that they should come to some decision without further loss of time, and many board meetings were accordingly held to discuss the subject. The old fashioned and well-tried system of horse haulage was not without its advocates, but looking at the large amount of traffic which was there to be conveyed, and at the probable delay in the transit from station to station if this method were adopted, the directors, after a visit made by them to the Northumberland and Durham Railways in 1828, came to the conclusion that the employment of horse power was inadmissible. Fixed engines had many advocates, the locomotive very few. It stood as yet almost in a minority of one, George Stevenson. The prejudice against the employment of the latter power had even increased since the Liverpool and Manchester bill underwent its first ordeal in the House of Commons. In proof of this we may mention that the Newcastle and Carlisle Railway Act was conceded in 1829 on the express condition that it should not be worked by locomotives but by horses only. Graved-outs existed as to the practicability of working a large traffic by means of travelling engines. The most celebrated engineers offered no opinion on the subject. They did not believe in the locomotive and would scarcely take the trouble to examine it. The ridicule with which George Stevenson had been assailed by the barristers before the Parliamentary Committee had not been altogether distasteful to them. Perhaps they did not relish the idea of a man who had picked up his experience in Newcastle Colpitz appearing in the capacity of a leading engineer before Parliament and attempting to establish a new system of internal communication in the country. The directors could not disregard the adverse and conflicting views of the professional men whom they consulted but Mr. Stevenson had so repeatedly and earnestly urged upon them the propriety of making a trial of the locomotive before coming to any decision against it that they at length authorized him to proceed with the construction of one of his engines by way of experiment. In their report to the proprietors at their annual meeting on the 27th of March 1828 they state that they had, after due consideration, authorized the engineer to prepare a locomotive engine which from the nature of its construction and from the experiments already made he is of opinion will be effective for the purposes of the company without proving an annoyance to the public. The locomotive thus ordered was placed upon the line in 1829 and was found of great service in drawing the wagons full of maul from the two great cuttings. In the meantime the discussion proceeded as to the kind of power to be permanently employed for the working of the railway. The directors were inundated with schemes of all kinds for facilitating locomotion. The projectors of England, France and America seemed to be let loose upon them. There were plans for working the wagons along the line by water power. Some proposed hydrogen and others carbonic acid gas. Atmospheric pressure had its eager advocates and various kinds of fixed and locomotive steam power were suggested. Thomas Gray urged his plan of a greased road with cog rails and Messers Vignole and Ericsson recommended the adoption of a central friction rail against which two horizontal rollers under the locomotive pressing upon the sides of this rail were to afford the means of ascending the inclined planes. The directors felt themselves quite unable to choose from amidst this multitude of projects. The engineer expressed himself as decidedly as here to fore in favour of smooth rails and locomotive engines which, he was confident, would be found the most economical and by far the most convenient moving power that could be employed. The Stockton and Darlington railway being now at work another deputation went down personally to inspect the fixed and locomotive engines on that line as well as at Hetten and Killingworth. They returned to Liverpool with much information but their testimony as to the relative merits of the two kinds of engines was so contradictory that the directors were as far from a decision as ever. They then resolved to call to their aid two professional engineers of high standing who should visit the Darlington and Newcastle railways carefully examine both modes of working the fixed and the locomotive and report to them fully on the subject. The gentlemen selected were Mr Walker of Limehouse and Mr Rastrick of Starbridge. After carefully examining the modes of working the northern railways they made their report to the directors in the spring of 1829. They concurred in the opinion that the cost of an establishment of fixed engines would be somewhat greater than that of locomotives to do the same work, but thought the annual charge would be less if the former were adopted. They calculated that the cost of moving a tonne of goods 30 miles by fixed engines would be 6.4 pence and by locomotives 8.36 pence, assuming a profitable traffic to be obtained both ways. At the same time it was admitted that there appeared more ground for expecting improvements in the construction and working of locomotives than of stationary engines. On the whole, however, and looking especially at the computed annual charge of working the road on the two systems on a large scale, the two reporting engineers were of the opinion that fixed engines were preferable and accordingly recommended their adoption. And in order to carry the system recommended by them into effect they proposed to divide the railroad between Liverpool and Manchester into 19 stages for about a mile and a half each with 21 engines fixed at the different points to work the trains forward. Such was the result so far of George Stevenson's labours. Two of the best practical engineers of the day concurred in reporting substantially in favour of the employment of fixed engines. Not a single professional man of eminence supported the engineer in his preference for locomotive over fixed engine power. He had scarce and adherent and the locomotive system seemed on the eve of being abandoned. Still he did not despair. With the profession as well as public opinion against him for the most frightful stories were abroad respecting the dangers, the unsightliness, and the nuisance which the locomotive would create Stevenson held to his purpose. Even in this, apparently the darkest hour of the locomotive, he did not hesitate to declare that locomotive railroads would, before many years had passed, be the great highways of the world. He urged his views upon the directors in all ways, and as some of them thought at all seasons, he pointed out the greater convenience of locomotive power for the purposes of a public highway, likening it to a series of short unconnected chains, any one of which could be removed and another substituted without interruption to the traffic, whereas the fixed engine system might be regarded in the light of a continuous chain extending between the two termini, the failure of any link of which would derange the whole. He represented to the board that the locomotive was yet capable of great improvements if proper inducements were held out to inventors and machinists to make them, and he pledged himself that if time were given him he would construct an engine that should satisfy their requirements and prove itself capable of working heavy loads along the railway with speed, regularity and safety, at length influenced by his persistent earnestness, not less than by his arguments, the directors, at the suggestion of Mr Harrison, determined to offer a price of five hundred pounds for the best locomotive engine, which on a certain day should be produced on the railway and produce certain specified conditions in the most satisfactory manner. It was now felt that the fate of railways in a great measure depended on the issue of this appeal to the mechanical genius of England, when the advertisement of the prize for the best locomotive was published, scientific men began more particularly to direct their attention to the new power which was thus struggling into existence. In the meantime, public opinion on the subject of railway working remained suspended, and the progress of the undertaking was watched with intense interest. During the progress of the discussion, with reference to the kind of power to be employed, Mr Stevenson was in constant communication with his son Robert, who made frequent visits to Liverpool for the purpose of assisting his father in the preparation of his report to the board on the subject. They also had many conversations as to the best mode of increasing the power and perfecting the mechanism of the locomotive. These became more frequent and interesting when the prize was offered for the best locomotive, and the working plans of the engine which they proposed to construct came to be settled. One of the most important considerations in the new engine was the arrangement of the boiler and the extension of its heating surface to enable steam enough to be raised rapidly and continuously for the purpose of maintaining high rates of speed, the effect of high pressure engines being ascertained to depend mainly upon the quantity of steam which the boiler can generate and upon its degree of elasticity when produced. The quantity of steam so generated, it will be obvious, must depend chiefly upon the quantity of fuel consumed in the furnace, and by necessary consequence, upon the high rate of temperature maintained there. It will be remembered that in Stevenson's first Killingworth engines, he invented and applied the ingenious method of stimulating combustion in the furnace by throwing the waste steam into the chimney after performing its office in the cylinders, thus accelerating the ascent of the current of air, greatly increasing the draft, and consequently the temperature of the fire. This plan was adopted by him, as we have already seen as early as 1815, and it was so successful that he himself attributed to it the greater economy of the locomotive as compared with horsepower, hence the continuance of its use upon the Killingworth railway. Though the adoption of the steam blast, greatly quickened combustion and contributed to the rapid production of high pressure steam, the limited amount of heating surface presented to the fire was still felt to be an obstacle to the complete success of the locomotive engine. Mr. Stevenson endeavoured to overcome this by lengthening the boilers and increasing the surface presented by the flue tubes. The Lancashire witch, which he built for the Bolton and Lee railway, and used in forming the Liverpool and Manchester railway embankments, was constructed with a double tube, each of which contained a fire, and passed longitudinally through the boiler. But this arrangement necessarily led to a considerable increase in the weight of the engine, which amounted to about 12 tonnes, and as 6 tonnes was the limit allowed for engines admitted to the Liverpool competition, it was clear that the time was come when the Killingworth locomotive must undergo a further important modification. For many years previous to this period, ingenious mechanics had been engaged in attempting to solve the problem of the best and most economical boiler for the production of high pressure steam. As early as 1803, Mr. Wolfe patented a tubular boiler, which was extensively employed at the Cornish mines, and was found greatly to facilitate the production of steam by the extension of the heating surface. The ingenious travithic, in his pattern to 1815, seems also to have entertained the idea of employing a boiler constructed of small perpendicular tubes, with the same object of increasing the heating surface. These tubes were to be closed at the bottom, and open into a common reservoir, from which they were to receive their water, and where the steam of all the tubes was to be united. About the same time, George Stevenson was trying the effect of introducing small tubes in the boilers of his locomotive, with the object of increasing their evaporative power. Thus, in 1829, he sent to France two engines constructed at the Newcastle Works for the Lyon and St Etienne Railway, in the boilers of which tubes were placed containing water. The heating surface was thus found to be materially increased, but the expedient was not successful, for the tubes, becoming furred with deposit, shortly burnt out and were removed. It was then that Monsieur Seguin, the engineer of the railway, pursuing the same idea, adopted his plan of employing horizontal tubes through which the heated air passed in streamlets. Mr. Henry Boules, the Secretary of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, without any knowledge of Monsieur Seguin's proceedings, next devised his plan of a tubular boiler, which he brought under the notice of Mr. Stevenson, who had once adopted it, and settled the mode in which the firebox and tubes were to be mutually arranged and connected. This plan was adopted in the construction of the celebrated rocket engine, the building of which was immediately proceeded with at the Newcastle Works. The principal circumstances connected with the construction of the rocket, as described by Robert Stevenson to the author, may be briefly stated. The tubular principle was adopted in a more complete manner than had yet been attempted. Twenty-five copper tubes, each three inches in diameter, extended from one end of the boiler to the other, the heated air passing through them on its way to the chimney, and the tubes being surrounded by the water of the boiler. It will be obvious that a large extension of the heating surface was thus effectually secured. The principal difficulty was in fitting the copper tubes within the boiler so as to prevent leakage. They were made by a Newcastle copper-smith and soldered to brass screws, which were screwed into the boiler ends, standing out in great knobs. When the tubes were thus fitted, and the boiler was filled with water, hydraulic pressure was applied, but the water squirted out at every joint and the factory floor was soon flooded. Robert went home in despair, and in the first moment of grief he wrote to his father that the whole thing was a failure. By return of post came a letter from his father telling him that despair was not to be thought of, that he must try again, and he suggested a mode of overcoming the difficulty, which his son had already anticipated and proceeded to adopt. It was to bore clean holes in the boiler ends, fit in the smooth copper tubes as tightly as possible, solder up, and then raise the steam. This plan succeeded perfectly. The expansion of the copper tubes completely filling up all the interstices and producing a perfectly watertight boiler capable of withstanding extreme internal pressure. The mode of employing the steam blast for the purpose of increasing the draft in the chimney was also the subject of numerous experiments. When the engine was first tried it was thought that the blast in the chimney was not strong enough to keep up the intensity of the fire in the furnace so as to produce high pressure steam in sufficient quantity. The expedient was therefore adopted of hammering the copper tubes at the point at which they entered the chimney, whereby the blast was considerably sharpened and on a further trial it was found that the draft was increased to such an extent as to enable abundance of steam to be raised. The rationale of the blast may be simply explained by referring to the effect of contracting the pipe of a water hose by which the force of the jet of the water is proportionately increased, widen the nozzle of the pipe and the force is in like manner diminished. So it is with the steam blast in the chimney of the locomotive. Doubts were however expressed whether the greater draft secured by the contraction of the blast pipe was not counterbalanced in some degree by the negative pressure upon the piston. A series of experiments was made with pipes of different diameters. The amount of vacuum produced being determined by a glass tube opened at both ends which was fixed to the bottom of the smoke box and descended into a bucket of water. As the rare refaction took place the water would of course rise in the tube and the height to which it rose above the surface of the water in the bucket was made the measure of the amount of rare refaction. These experiments proved that a considerable increase of draft was obtained by the contraction of the RFS. Accordingly the two blast pipes opening from the cylinders into either side of the rocket chimney and turned up within it were contracted slightly below the area of the steam ports and before the engine left the factory the water rose in the glass tube three inches above the water in the bucket. The other arrangements of the rocket were briefly these. The boiler was cylindrical with flat ends, six feet in length and three feet four inches in diameter. The upper half of the boiler was used as a reservoir from the steam, the lower half being filled with water. Through the lower part twenty-five copper tubes of three inches diameter extended which were open to the firebox at one end and to the chimney at the other. The firebox or furnace two feet wide and three feet high was attached immediately behind the boiler and was also surrounded with water. The cylinders of the engine were placed on either side of the boiler in an oblique position, one end being nearly level with the top of the boiler at its after-end and the other pointing towards the center of the foremost or driving pair of wheels with which the connection was directly made from the piston rod to a pin on the outside of the wheel. The engine together with its load of water weighed only 4.25 tons and was supported on four wheels not coupled. The tender was four-wheeled and similar in shape to a wagon, the foremost part holding the fuel and the behinder part a water cask. When the rocket was finished it was placed upon the Killingworth Railway for the purpose of experiment. The new boiler arrangement was found perfectly successful. The steam was raised rapidly and continuously and in a quantity which then appeared marvellous. The same evening Robert dispatched a letter to his father at Liverpool informing him to his great joy that the rocket was all right and were being complete working trim by the day of the trial. The engine was shortly after sent by wagon to Carlisle and then shipped for Liverpool. The time so much longed for by George Stevenson had now arrived when the merit of the passenger locomotive was to be put to a public test. He had fought the battle for it until now almost single-handed. Engrossed by his daily labours and anxieties and harassed by difficulties and discouragements which would have crushed the spirit of a less resolute man he had held firmly to his purpose through good and through evil report. The hostility which he experienced from some of the directors opposed to the adoption of the locomotive was the circumstance that caused him the greatest grief of all. For where he had looked for encouragement he found only carping and opposition but his pluck never failed him and now the rocket was upon the ground to prove, to use his own words, whether he was a man of his word or not. Great interest was felt at Liverpool as well as throughout the country in the approaching competition. Engineers, scientific men and mechanics arrived from all quarters to witness the novel display of mechanical ingenuity on which such great results depended. The public generally were no indifferent spectators either. The inhabitants of Liverpool, Manchester and the adjacent towns felt that the successful issue of the experiment would confer upon them individual benefits and local advantages almost incalculable while populations at a distance waited for the result with almost equal interest. On the day appointed for the great competition of locomotives at Rain Hill the following engines were entered for the prize. One, Messrs Braithwaite and Erickson's Novelty. Two, Mr Timothy Hackworth's Sounds Per Eye. Three, Messrs R. Stevenson and Company's Rocket. Four, Mr Burstall's Perseverance. Another engine was entered by Mr Brandreth of Liverpool. The Cycloped, weighing three tonnes, worked by a horse in a frame but it could not be admitted to the competition. The above were the only four exhibited out of a considerable number of engines constructed in different parts of the country in anticipation of the contest, many of which could not be satisfactorily completed by the day of the trial. The ground on which the engines were to be tried was a level piece of railroad about two miles in length. Each was required to make 20 trips or equal to a journey of 70 miles in the course of the day and the average rate of travelling was to be not under 10 miles an hour. It was determined that to avoid confusion each engine should be tried separately and on different days. The day fixed for the competition was the first of October but to allow sufficient time to get the locomotives into good working order the directors extended it to the sixth. On the morning of the sixth the ground at Rain Hill presented a lively appearance and there was as much excitement as if the St. Ledger were about to be run. Many thousand spectators looked on amongst whom were some of the first engineers and mechanicians of the day. A stand was provided for the ladies. The beauty and fashion of the neighbourhood were present and the side of the railroad was lined with carriages of all descriptions. It was quite characteristic of the Stevensons that although their engine did not sound first on the list for trial it was the first that was ready and it was accordingly ordered out by the judges for an experimental trip. Yet the rocket was by no means the favourite with either the judges or the spectators. A majority of the judges were strongly predisposed in favour of the novelty and nine-tenths of those present were against the rocket because of its appearance. Nearly every person favoured some other engine so there was nothing for the rocket but the practical test. The first trip which it made was quite successful. It ran about twelve miles without interruption in about fifty-three minutes. The novelty was next called out. It was a light engine, very compact in appearance, carrying the water and fuels upon the same wheels as the engine. The weight of the hull was only three tonnes and one hundred weight. A peculiarity of this engine was that the air was driven or forced through the fire by means of bellows. The day being now far advanced and some dispute having arisen as to the method of signing the proper load for the novelty, no particular experiment was made further than that the engine traversed the line by way of exhibition, occasionally moving at the rate of twenty-four miles an hour. The Soundspar Eye, constructed by Mr Timothy Hackworth, was next exhibited but no particular experiment was made with it on this day. The contest was postponed until the following day but before the judges arrived on the ground the bellows for creating the blast in the novelty gave way and it was found incapable of going through its performance. A defect was also detected in the boiler of the Soundspar Eye and some further time was allowed to get it repaired. The large number of spectators who had assembled to witness the contest were greatly disappointed at this postponement but to lessen it Stevenson again brought out the rocket and attached to it a coach containing thirty persons. He ran them along the line at the rate of from twenty-four to thirty miles an hour much to their gratification and amazement. Before separating the judges ordered the engine to be in readiness by eight o'clock on the following morning to go through its definitive trial according to the brisky conditions. On the morning of the eighth of October the rocket was again ready for the contest. The engine was taken to the extremity of the stage, the firebox was filled with coke, the fire lighted and the steam raised until it lifted the safety valve loaded to a pressure of fifty pounds to the square inch. This proceeding occupied fifty-seven minutes. The engine then started on its journey dragging after it about thirteen tons weight in wagons and made the first ten trips backwards and forwards along the two miles of road running the thirty-five miles including stoppages in one hour and forty-eight minutes. The second ten trips were in like manner performed in two hours and three minutes. The maximum velocity attained during the trial trip was twenty-nine miles an hour or about three times the speed that one of the judges of the competition had declared to be the limit of possibility. The average speed upon which the whole of the journeys were performed was fifteen miles an hour or five miles beyond the rate specified in the conditions published by the company. The entire performance excited the greatest astonishment among the assembled spectators. The directors felt confident that their enterprise was now on the eve of success and George Stevenson rejoiced to think that in spite of all false profits and fickle councillors the locomotive system was now safe. When the rocket, having performed all the conditions of the contest, arrived at the grandstand at the close of the day's successful run, Mr Cropper, one of the directors favourable to the fixed engine system, lifted up his hands and exclaimed now has George Stevenson at last delivered himself. Neither the novelty nor the sales paris was ready for trial until the tenth, on the morning of which day an advertisement appeared stating that the former engine was to be tried on that day when it would perform more work than any engine upon the ground. The weight of the carriages attached to it was only about seven tonnes. The engine passed the first post in good style but in returning the pipe from the forcing pump burst and put an end to the trial. The pipe was afterwards repaired and the engine made several trips by itself in which it was said to have gone at the rate of from twenty-four to twenty-eight miles an hour. The sales paris was not ready until the thirteenth and when its boiler and tender were filled with water it was found to weigh four hundred weights beyond the weight specified in the published conditions as the limit of four-wheeled engines. Nevertheless the judges allowed it to run on the same footing of the other engines to enable them to ascertain whether its merits entitled it to favourable consideration. It travelled at the average speed of about fourteen miles an hour with its load attached but at the eighth trip the cold water pump got wrong and the engine could proceed no further. It was determined to award the premium to the successful engine on the following day, the fourteenth, on which occasion there was an unusual assemblage of spectators. The owners of the novelty pleaded for another trial and it was conceded but again it broke down. The owner of the sales paris also requested the opportunity for making another trial of his engine but the judges had now had enough of failures and they declined on the ground that not only was the engine above the stipulated weight but that it was constructed on a plan which they could not recommend for adoption by the directors of the company. One of the principal practical objections to this locomotive was the enormous quantity of coke consumed or wasted by it about £692 per hour when travelling caused by the sharpness of the steam blast in the chimney which blew a large proportion of the burning coke into the air. The perseverance was found unable to move at more than five or six miles an hour and it was withdrawn from the contest at an early period. The rocket was thus the only engine that had performed and more than performed all the stipulated conditions and its owners were declared to be fully entitled to the prize of £500 which was awarded to messes Stevenson and Boole accordingly and further to show that the engine had been working quite within its powers. Mr. Stevenson ordered it to be brought upon the ground and detached from all encumbrances when, in making two trips, it was found to travel at the astonishing rate of 35 miles an hour. The rocket had thus eclipsed the performances of all locomotive engines that had yet been constructed and outstripped even the sanguine expectations of its constructors. It satisfactorily answered the report of messes Walker and Rastrick and established the efficiency of the locomotive for working the Liverpool and Manchester Railway and indeed all future railways. The rocket showed that a new power had been born into the world full of activity and strength and with boundless capability of work. It was the simple but admirable contrivance of the steam blast and its combination with the multi-tubular boiler that at once gave the locomotive a vigorous life and secured the triumph of the railway system. It has been well observed that this wonderful ability to increase and multiply its powers of performance with the emergency that demands them has made this giant engine the noblest creation of human wit, the very lion among machines. The success of the Rainhill experiment, as judged by the public, may be inferred from the fact that the shares of the company immediately rose 10% and nothing more was heard of the proposed 21 fixed engines, engine houses, ropes, etc. All this cumbersome apparatus was then sforth effectually disposed of. Very different now was the tone of those directors who had distinguished themselves by the persistency of their opposition to Mr Stevenson's plans. Coolness gave way to eulogy and hostility to unbounded offers of friendship after the manner of many men who run to the help of the strong. Deeply though the engineer had felt aggrieved by the conduct pursued towards him during this eventful struggle, by some from whom forbearance was to have been expected, he never entertained towards them in afterlife any angry feelings. On the contrary, he forgave all. But though the directors afterwards passed unanimous resolutions eulogising the great skill and unwary energy of their engineer, he himself, when speaking confidentially to those with whom he was most intimate, could not help pointing out the difference between his foul weather and fair weather friends. Mr Gooch says of him that though naturally most cheerful and kind-hearted in his disposition, the anxiety and pressure which weighed upon his mind during the construction of the railway had the effect of making him occasionally impatient and irritable, like a spirited horse touched by the spur, though his original good nature from time to time shone through it all. When the line had been brought to a successful completion, a very marked change in him became visible, the irritability passed away, and when difficulties and vexations arose they were treated by him as matters of course, and with perfect composure and cheerfulness. CHAPTER XII opening of the Liverpool and Manchester railway and extension of the railway system. The directors of the railway now began to see daylight, and they derived encouragement from the skillful manner in which their engineer had overcome the principal difficulties of the undertaking. He had formed a solid road over Chatmoss, and thus achieved one impossibility, and he had constructed a locomotive that could run at a speed of thirty miles an hour, thus vanquishing a still more formidable difficulty. A single line of way was completed over Chatmoss by the first of January 1830, and on that day the rocket, with the carriage full of directors, engineers and their friends, passed along the greater part of the road between Liverpool and Manchester. Mr. Stevenson continued to direct his close attention to the improvement of the details of the locomotive, every successive trial of which proved more satisfactory. In this department he had the benefit of the able and unremitting assistance of his son, who, in the workshops at Newcastle, directly superintended the construction of the new engines required for the public working of the railway. He did not, by any means, rest satisfied with the success, decided though it was, which had been achieved by the rocket, he regarded it but in the light of a successful experiment, and every succeeding engine placed upon the railway exhibited some improvement on its predecessors. The arrangement of the parts and the weight and proportions of the engines were altered, as the experience of each successive day or week or month suggested, and it was soon found that the performances of the rocket on the day of trial had been greatly within the powers of the locomotive. The first entire trip between Liverpool and Manchester was performed on the 14th of June 1830, on the occasion of a board meeting being held at the latter town. The train was on this occasion drawn by the Arrow, one of the new locomotives, in which the most recent improvements had been adopted. Mr. Stephenson himself drove the engine, and Captain Scorsby, the circumpolar navigator, stood beside him on the footplate and minuted the speed of the train. A great concourse of people assembled at both Termini, as well as along the line, to witness the novel spectacle of a train of carriages dragged by an engine at a speed of 17 miles an hour. On the return journey to Liverpool in the evening, the Arrow crossed Chatmos at a speed of nearly 27 miles an hour, reaching its destination in about an hour and a half. In the meantime, Mr. Stephenson and his assistants were diligently occupied in making the necessary preliminary arrangements for the conduct of the traffic, against the time when the line should be ready for opening. The experiments made with the object of carrying on the passenger traffic at quick velocities were of an especially harrassing and anxious character. Every week for nearly three months before the opening, trial trips were made to Newton and Back, generally with two or three trains following each other and carrying altogether from 200 to 300 persons. These trips were usually made on Saturday afternoons, when the works could be more conveniently stopped and the line cleared. In these experiments Mr. Stephenson had the able assistance of Mr. Henry Booth, the secretary of the company, who contrived many of the arrangements in the rolling stock, not the least valuable of which was his invention of the coupling screw, still in use on all passenger railways. At length the line was finished and ready for the public ceremony of the opening, which took place on the 15th of September, 1830, and attracted a vast number of spectators. The completion of the railway was justly regarded as an important national event, and the opening was celebrated accordingly. The Duke of Wellington, then Prime Minister, Sir Robert Peale, and Mr. Huskison, one of the members for Liverpool, were among the number of distinguished public personages present. Eight locomotive engines constructed at the Stephenson works had been delivered and placed upon the line, the whole of which had been tried and tested weeks before, with perfect success. The several trains of carriages accommodated in all about 600 persons. The procession was cheered in its progress by thousands of spectators. Through the deep ravine of Olivemount, up the Sutton incline, over the great Sanky viaduct, beneath which a great multitude of persons had assembled, carriages filling the narrow lanes and barges crowding the river, the people below gazing with wonder and admiration at the trains which sped along the line far above their heads, at the rate of some 24 miles an hour. At Parkside, about 17 miles from Liverpool, the engines stopped to take in water. Here a deplorable accident occurred to one of the illustrious visitors, which threw a deep shadow over the subsequent proceedings of the day. The Northumbrian engine, with the carriage containing the Duke of Wellington, was drawn up on one line in order that the whole of the trains on the other line might pass in review before him and his party. Mr. Huskison had alighted from the carriage, and was standing on the opposite road, along which the rocket was observed rapidly coming up. At this moment the Duke of Wellington, between whom and Mr. Huskison some coolness had existed, made a sign of recognition and held out his hand. A hurried but friendly grasp was given, and before it was loosened there was a general cry from the bystanders of Get in! Get in! Flurried and confused, Mr. Huskison endeavoured to get round the open door of the carriage, which projected over the opposite rail, but in so doing he was struck down by the rocket, and falling with his leg doubled across the rail, the limb was instantly crushed. His first words on being raised were, I have met my death, which unhappily proved true, for he expired that same evening in the Parsonage of Echoes. It was cited at the time as a remarkable fact that the Northumbrian engine, driven by George Stephenson himself, conveyed the wounded body of the unfortunate gentleman the distance of about fifteen miles in twenty-five minutes, or at the rate of thirty-six miles an hour. This incredible speed burst upon the world with the effect of a new and unlooked-for phenomenon. The accident threw a gloom over the rest of the day's proceedings. The Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peale expressed a wish that the procession should return to Liverpool. It was, however, represented to them that a vast concourse of people had assembled at Manchester to witness the arrival of the trains, that report would exaggerate the mischief if they did not complete the journey, and that a false panic on that day might seriously affect future railway travelling and the value of the company's property. The party consented accordingly to proceed to Manchester, but on the understanding that they should return as soon as possible and refrain from further festivity. As the trains approached Manchester, crowds of people were found covering the banks, the slopes of the cuttings, and even the railway itself. The multitude, become impatient and excited by the rumours which had reached them, had outflanked the military, and all order was at an end. The people clumbered about the carriages, holding on by the door handles, and many were tumbled over, but happily no fatal accident occurred. At the Manchester station the political element began to display itself. Blackards about Peter Lou, etc. were exhibited, and brick-bats were thrown at the carriage containing the Duke. On the carriages coming to a stand in the Manchester station, the Duke did not descend but remained seated, shaking hands with the women and children who were pushed forward by the crowd. Shortly after the trains returned to Liverpool, which they reached after considerable interruptions in the dark at a late hour. On the following morning the railway was opened for public traffic. The first train of 140 passengers was booked and sent on to Manchester, reaching it in the allotted period of two hours, and from that time the traffic has regularly proceeded from day to day until now. It is scarcely necessary that we should speak at any length of the commercial results of the Liverpool and Manchester railway. Suffice it to say that its success was complete and decisive. The anticipations of its projectors were, however, in many respects at fault. They had based their calculations almost entirely on the heavy merchandise traffic, such as coal, cotton and timber, relying little upon passengers. Whereas the receipts derived from the conveyance of passengers far exceeded those derived from merchandise of all kinds, which for a time continued a subordinate branch of the traffic. For some time after the public opening of the line, Mr Stevenson's ingenuity continued to be employed in devising improved methods for securing the safety and comfort of the travelling public. Few are aware of the thousand minute details which have to be arranged, the forethought and contrivance that have to be exercised to enable the traveller by railway to accomplish his journey in safety. After the difficulties of constructing a level road over bogs, over valleys, and through deep cuttings have been overcome, the maintenance of the way has to be provided for with continuous care. Every rail with its fastenings must be complete to prevent the risk of accident, and the road must be kept regularly ballasted up to the level to diminish the jolting of vehicles passing over it at high speeds. Then the stations must be protected by signals observable from such a distance as to enable the train to be stopped in the event of an obstacle, such as a stopping or shunting train being in the way. For some years the signals employed on the Liverpool railway were entirely given by men, with flags of different colours stationed along the line. There were no fixed signals nor electric telegraphs, but the traffic was nevertheless worked quite as safely as under the more elaborate and complicated system of telegraphing which has since been established. From an early period it became obvious that the iron road, as originally laid down, was far too weak for the heavy traffic which it had to carry. The line was at first laid with fish-bellied rails, weighing 35 pounds to the yard, calculated only for horse traffic, or at most for engines like the rocket of very light weight. But as the power and the weight of the locomotives were increased, it was found that such rails were quite insufficient for the safe conduct of the traffic, and it therefore became necessary to relay the road with heavier and stronger rails at considerably increased expense. The details of the carrying stock had in like manner to be settled by experience. Everything had as it were to be begun from the beginning. The coal wagon, it is true, served in some degree as a model for the railway truck, but the railway passenger carriage was an entirely novel structure. It had to be mounted upon strong framing of a peculiar kind, supported on springs to prevent jolting. Then there was the necessity for contriving some method of preventing hard bumping of the carriage ends when the train was pulled up, and hence the contrivance of buffer springs and spring frames. For the purpose of stopping the train, brakes on an improved plan were also contrived, with new modes of lubricating the carriage axles, on which the wheels revolved at an unusually high velocity. In all these arrangements Mr. Stevenson's inventiveness was kept constantly on the stretch, and though many improvements in detail have been affected since his time, the foundations were then laid by him of the present system of conducting railway traffic. As an illustration of the inventive ingenuity which he displayed in providing for the working of the Liverpool line, we may mention his contrivance of the self-acting brake. He early entertained the idea that the momentum of the running train might itself be made available for the purpose of checking its speed. He proposed to fit each carriage with a brake, which should be called into action immediately on the locomotive of the head of the train being pulled up. The impetus of the carriages carrying them forward, the buffer springs would be driven home, and at the same time, by a simple arrangement of the mechanism, the brakes would be called into simultaneous action. Thus the wheels would be brought into a state of sledge, and the train speedily stopped. This plan was adopted by Mr. Stevenson before he left the Liverpool and Manchester railway, though it was afterwards discontinued. But it is a remarkable fact that this identical plan with the addition of a centrifugal apparatus has quite recently been arrived by Mr. Guérin, a French engineer, and extensively employed on foreign railways, as the best method of stopping railway trains in the most efficient manner, and in the shortest time. Finally, Mr. Stevenson had to attend to the improvement of the power and speed of the locomotive, always the grand object of his study, with a view to economy as well as regularity of working, In the Planet engine, delivered upon the line immediately subsequent to the public opening, all the improvements which had up to that time being contrived by him and his son were introduced in combination. The blast pipe, the tubular boiler, horizontal cylinders inside the smokebox, the cranked axle, and the firebox firmly fixed to the boiler. The first load of goods conveyed from Liverpool to Manchester by the Planet was 80 tonnes in weight, and the engine performed the journey against a strong headwind in two and a half hours. On another occasion the same engine brought up a cargo of voters from Manchester to Liverpool during a contested election, within a space of 60 minutes. The Samson, delivered in the following year, exhibited still further improvements, the most important of which was that of coupling the four and hind wheels of the engine. By this means the adhesion of the wheels on the rails was more effectively secured, and thus the full hauling part of the locomotive was made available. The Samson, shortly after it was placed upon the line, dragged after it a train of wagons weighing 150 tonnes at a speed of about 20 miles an hour, the consumption of coke being reduced to only about a third of a pound per tonne per mile. The success of the Liverpool and Manchester experiment naturally excited great interest. People flocked to Lancashire from all quarters to see the steam coach running upon a railway at three times the speed of a male coach, and to enjoy the excitement of actually travelling in the wake of an engine at that incredible velocity. The travellers returned to their respective districts full of the wonders of the locomotive, considering it to be the greatest marvel of the age. Railways are familiar enough objects now, and our children who grow up in their midst may think little of them, but thirty years since it was an event in one's life to see a locomotive and to travel for the first time upon a public railroad. The practicability of railway locomotion being now approved, and its great social and commercial advantages ascertained, the general extension of the system was merely a question of time, money and labour. Although the legislature took no initiative step in the direction of railway extension, the public spirit and enterprise of the country did not fail it at this juncture. The English people, though they may be defective in their capacity for organisation, are strong in individualism, and not improbably their admirable qualities in the latter respect detract from their efficiencies in the former. Thus in all times their greatest enterprises have not been planned by officialism and carried out upon any regular system, but have sprung like their constitution, their laws and their entire industrial arrangements from the force of circumstances and the individual energies of the people. The mode of action in the case of railway extension was characteristic and national. The execution of the new lines was undertaken entirely by joint stock associations of proprietors after the manner of the Stockton and Darlington and the Liverpool and Manchester companies. These associations are conformable to our national habits and fit well into our system of laws. They combine the power of vast resources with individual watchfulness and motives of self-interest, and by their means gigantic undertakings which otherwise would be impossible to any but kings and emperors with great national resources at command were carried out by the co-operation of private persons, and the results of this combination of means and of enterprises have been truly marvellous. Within the life of the present generation the private citizens of England engaged in railway extension have, in the face of government obstructions and without taking a penny from the public purse, executed a system of communications involving works of the most gigantic kind, which in their total mass, their cost, and their public utility far exceed the most famous national undertakings of any age or country. Mr. Stevenson was, of course, actively engaged in the construction of the numerous railways now projected by the joint stock companies. The desire for railway extension principally pervaded the manufacturing districts, especially after the successful opening of the Liverpool and Manchester line. The commercial classes of the larger towns soon became eager for a participation in the good which they had so recently derided. Railway projects were set on fourteen great numbers, and Manchester became a centre from which main lines and branches were started in all directions. The interest, however, which attaches to these later schemes is of a much less absorbing kind than that which belongs to the earlier history of the railway and the steps by which it was mainly established. We naturally sympathise more keenly with the early struggles of a great principle, its trials and its difficulties, than with the after stages of success, and, however gratified and astonished we may be at its consequences, the interest is in a great measure gone when its triumph has become a matter of certainty. The commercial results of the Liverpool and Manchester line were so satisfactory, and indeed so greatly exceeded the expectation of its projectors that many of the abundant projects of the speculative year 1825 were forthwith revived. An abundant crop of engineers sprang up, ready to execute railways of any extent. Now that the Liverpool and Manchester line had been made, and the practicability of working it by locomotive power had been proved, it was as easy for engineers to make railways and work for them, as it was for the navigators to find America after Columbus had made the first voyage. Mr. Francis Giles attached himself to the Newcastle and Carl Lyle, and London and Southampton projects. Mr. Brunel appeared as engineer of the line projected between London and Bristol, and Mr. Braithwaite, the builder of the novelty engine, acted in the same capacity for a railway from London to Colchester. The first lines constructed subsequent to the opening of the Liverpool and Manchester railway were mostly in connection with it, and principally in the county of Lancaster. Thus a branch was formed from Bolton to Lee and another from Lee to Kenyon, where it formed a junction with the main line between Liverpool and Manchester. Branches to Wigan on the north and to Runcorn Gap and Warrington on the south of the same line were also formed. A continuation of the latter, as far south as Birmingham, was shortly after projected, under the name of the Grand Junction Railway. The last mentioned line was projected as early as the year 1824, when the Liverpool and Manchester scheme was under discussion, and Mr. Stevenson then published a report on the subject. The plans were deposited, but the bill was thrown out through the opposition of the landowners and canal proprietors. When engaged in making the survey, Stevenson called upon some of the landowners in the neighbourhood of Nantwich to obtain their assent, and was greatly disgusted to learn that the agents of the canal companies had been before him, and described the locomotive to the farmers as a most frightful machine, emitting a breath as poisonous as the fabled dragon of old, and telling them that if a bird flew over the district where one of these engines passed, it would inevitably drop down dead. The application for the bill was renewed in 1826 and again failed, and at length it was determined to wait the issue of the Liverpool and Manchester experiment. The act was eventually obtained in 1833. When it was proposed to extend the advantages of railways to the population of the Midland and Southern Counties of England, an immense amount of alarm was created in the minds of the country gentlemen. They did not relish the idea of private individuals, principally resident in the manufacturing districts, invading their domains, and they everywhere rose up in arms against the new-fangled roads. Colonel Sibthorpe openly declared his hatred of the infernal railroads, and said that he would rather meet a highwayman or see a burglar on his premises than an engineer. The impression which prevailed in the rural districts was that fox covers and game preserves would be seriously prejudiced by the formation of railroads, that agricultural communications would be destroyed, land thrown out of cultivation, landowners and farmers reduced to beggary, the poor rates increased through the number of persons thrown out of employment by the railways, and all this in order that Liverpool, Manchester and Birmingham shopkeepers and manufacturers might establish a monstrous monopoly in railway traffic. The inhabitants of even some of the large towns were thrown into a state of consternation by the proposal to provide them with the accommodation of a railway. The line from London to Birmingham would naturally have passed close to the handsome town of Northampton, and was so projected, but the inhabitants of the shower, urged on by the local press, and excited by men of influence and education, opposed the project, and succeeded in forcing the promoters in their survey of the line to pass the town at a distance. When the first railway through Kent was projected, the line was laid out so as to pass by Maidstone, the county town, but it had not a single supporter amongst the townspeople, whilst the landowners, for many miles round, combined to oppose it. In like manner the line proposed from London to Bristol was strongly denounced by the inhabitants of the intermediate districts, and when the first bill was thrown out, Eaton assembled under the presidency of the Marquis of Chandos to congratulate the country upon its defeat. During the time that the works of the Liverpool and Manchester line were in progress, our engineer was consulted, respecting a short railway proposed to be formed between Leicester and Swonnington, for the purpose of opening up a communication between the town of Leicester and the Coalfields in the western part of the county. The projector of this undertaking had some difficulty in getting the requisite capital subscribed for, the Leicester townspeople who had money being for the most part interested in canals. George Stevenson was invited to come upon the ground and survey the line. He did so, and then the projector told him of the difficulty he had in finding subscribers to the concern. Give me a sheet, said Stevenson, and I will raise the money for you in Liverpool. The engineer was as good as his word, and in a short time the sheet was returned with the subscription complete. Mr. Stevenson was then asked to undertake the office of engineer for the line, but his answer was that he had thirty miles of railway in hand which were enough for any engineer to attend to properly. Was there any person he could recommend? Well, said he, I think my son Robert is competent to undertake the thing. Would Mr. Stevenson be answerable for him? Oh yes, certainly. And Robert Stevenson, at twenty-seven years of age, was installed engineer of the line accordingly. The requisite parliamentary powers having been obtained, Robert Stevenson proceeded with the construction of the railway, about sixteen miles in length, towards the end of eighteen thirty. The works were comparatively easy, excepting at the Leicester end, where the young engineer encountered his first stiff bit of tunneling. The line passed underground for one point seven-five miles, and five hundred yards of its course lay in loose, dry running sand. The presence of this material rendered it necessary for the engineer first to construct a wooden tunnel to support the soil while the brickwork was being executed. This proved sufficient, and the hole was brought to a successful termination within a reasonable time. While the works were in progress, Robert kept up a regular correspondence with his father at Liverpool, consulting him on all points in which his greater experience was likely to be of service. Like his father, Robert was very observant, and always ready to seize opportunity by the forelock. It happened that the estate of Snibston, near Ashboda-Lazouche, was advertised for sale, and the young engineer's experience as a coal-viewer and practical geologist suggested to his mind that coal was most probably to be found underneath. He communicated his views to his father on the subject. The estate lay in the immediate neighbourhood of the railway, and if the conjecture proved correct, the finding of coal would necessarily greatly enhance its value. He accordingly requested his father to come over to Snibston and take a look at the property, which he did, and after careful inspection of the ground he arrived at the same conclusion as his son. The large manufacturing town of Leicester, about fourteen miles distant, had up to that time been exclusively supplied with coal brought by canal from Derbyshire, and Mr. Stevenson saw that the railway under construction from Swamington to Leicester would furnish him with a ready market for any coals that he might find at Snibston. Having induced two of his Liverpool friends to join him in the venture, the Snibston estate was purchased in 1831, and shortly after, Stevenson removed his home from Liverpool to Alton Grange for the purpose of superintending the sinking of the pit. He travelled either by gig with his wife, his favourite horse, Bobby, performing the journey by easy stages. Sinking operations were immediately begun, and proceeded satisfactorily until the old enemy, water, burst in upon the workmen, and threatened to drown them out. But by means of efficient pumping engines, and the skillful casing of the shaft with segments of cast iron, a process called Tubbing, which Mr. Stevenson was the first to adopt in the Midland Counties, it was eventually made watertight, and the sinking proceeded. When a depth of 166 feet had been reached, a still more formidable difficulty presented itself, one which had baffled former sinkers in the neighbourhood, and deterred them from further operations. This was a remarkable bed of windstone or greenstone, which had originally been poured out as a sheet of burning lava over the denuded surface of the coal-measures. Indeed, it was afterwards found that it had turned to cinders one part of the seam of coal with which it had come in contact. The appearance of this bed of solid rock was so unusual a circumstance in coal mining, that some of the experienced sinkers urged Stevenson to proceed no further, believing the occurrence of the dyke at that point to be altogether fatal to his enterprise. But with his faith still firm in the existence of coal underneath, he fell back on his old motto of persevere. He determined to go on boring, and down through the solid rock he went until, twenty-two feet lower, he came upon the coal-measures. In the meantime, however, lest the boring at that point should prove unsuccessful, he had commenced sinking another pair of shafts about a quarter of a mile west of the fault, and after about nine months labour he reached the principal seam called the Main Coal. The works were then opened out on a large scale, and Mr Stevenson had the pleasure and good fortune to send the first train of Main Coal to Leicester by railway. The price was immediately reduced to about eight shillings a tonne, affecting a pecuniary saving to the inhabitants of the town of about £40,000 per annum, or equivalent to the whole amount then collected in government taxes and local rates, besides giving an impetus to the manufacturing prosperity of the place, which has continued down to the present day. The correct principles on which the mining operations at Snipston were conducted offered a salutary example to the neighbouring colliery owners. The numerous improvements there induced were freely exhibited to all, and they were afterwards reproduced in many forms all over the Midland Counties, greatly to the advantage of the mining interest. Nor was Mr Stevenson less attentive to the comfort and well-being of those immediately dependent upon him, the work-people of the Snipston colliery and their families. Unlike many of those large employers who have sprung from the ranks, he was one of the kindest and most indulgent of masters. He would have a fair day's work for a fair day's wages, but he never forgot that the employer had his duties as well as his rights. First of all, he attended to the proper home accommodation of his work-people. He erected a village of comfortable cottages, each provided with a snug little garden. He was also instrumental in erecting a church adjacent to the works, as well as church schools, for the education of the collier's children, and with that broad catholicity of sentiment which distinguished him, he further provided a chapel and a school-house for the use of the dissenting portion of the colliers and their families, an example of benevolent liberality which was not without a salutary influence upon the neighbouring employers. End of CHAPTER XIII OF LIVES OF THE ENGINEERS OF THE NUMERAL EXTENSIVE PROJECTS, WHICH FOLLOWED CLOSE UPON THE COMPLETION OF THE LIVIPUL AND MANCHESTER LINE AND THE LOCAL MOTION, THIS LEBRIBOX RECORDING IS IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN, READ BY ANDY MENTER. LIVES OF THE ENGINEERS, George and Robert Stevenson, BY SAMUEL SMILES. CHAPTER XIII OF THE NUMERAL EXTENSIVE PROJECTS, WHICH FOLLOWED CLOSE UPON THE COMPLETION OF THE LIVIPUL AND MANCHESTER LINE AND THE LOCAL MOTIVE TRIUMF AT RAINHILL, THAT OF A RAILWAY BETWEEN LONDON AND BURMINGHAM WAS THE MOST IMPORTANT. The scheme originated at the latter place in 1830. Two committees were formed, and two plans were proposed. One was overlined to London by way of Oxford, and the other by way of Coventry. The simple object of the promoters of both schemes, being to secure the advantages of railway communication with the metropolis, they wisely determined to combine their strength to secure it. They then resolved to call George Stevenson to their aid, and requested him to advise them as to the two schemes which were before them. After a careful examination of the country, Mr Stevenson reported in favour of the Coventry route, when the Lancashire gentleman, who were the principal subscribers to the project, having every confidence in his judgment, supported his decision, and the line recommended by him was adopted accordingly. At the meeting of the promoters, held at Birmingham, to determine on the appointment of an engineer for the railway, there was a strong party in favour of associating with Mr Stevenson, a gentleman with whom he had been brought into serious collision in the course of the Liverpool and Manchester undertaking. When the offer was made to him that he should be joined engineer with the other, he requested leave to retire, and to consider the proposal with his son. The father was in favour of accepting it. His struggle here to fore had been so hard that he could not bear the idea of missing so promising an opportunity of professional advancement. But the son, foreseeing the jealousies and heart-burnings which the joint-engineership would most probably create, recommended his father to decline the connection. George adopted the suggestion, and returning to the committee, he announced to them his decision, on which the promoters decided to appoint him the engineer of the undertaking in conjunction with his son. This line, like the Liverpool and Manchester, was very strongly opposed, especially by the landowners. Numerous pamphlets were published, calling on the public to beware of the bubbles, and holding up the promoters of railways to ridicule. They were compared to singe and long and similar quacks, and pronounced fitter for bedlam than to be left at large. The canal proprietors, landowners, and road trustees made common calls against them. The failure of railways was confidently predicted. Indeed, it was elaborately attempted to be proved that they had failed, and it was industriously spread abroad, that the locomotive engines, having been found useless and highly dangerous on the Liverpool and Manchester line, were immediately to be abandoned in favour of horses, a rumour which the directors of the company thought it necessary publicly to contradict. Public meetings were held in all the counties through which the line would pass between London and Birmingham, at which the project was denounced, and strong resolutions against it were passed. The attempt was made to conciliate the landlords by explanations, but all such efforts proved futile, the owners of nearly seven-eighths of the land being returned as dissentients. I remember, said Robert Stevenson, describing the opposition, that we called one day on Sir Astley Cooper, the eminent surgeon, in the hope of overcoming his aversion to the railway. He was one of our most inveterate and influential opponents. His country-house at Birkenstead was situated near the intended line, which passed through part of his property. We found, a courtly, fine-looking old gentleman, of very stately manners, who received us kindly and heard all we had to say in favour of the project, but he was quite inflexible in his opposition to it. No deviation or improvement that we could suggest had any effect in conciliating him. He was opposed to railways generally, and to this in particular. Your scheme, said he, is preposterous in the extreme. It is of so extravagant a character as to be positively absurd. Then look at the recklessness of your proceedings. You are proposing to cut up our estates in all directions for the purpose of making an unnecessary road. Do you think for one moment of the destruction of property involved by it? Why, gentlemen, if this sort of thing is permitted to go on, you will in a very few years destroy the noblesse. We left the honourable baronet without having produced the slightest effect upon him, excepting perhaps it might be increased exasperation against our scheme. I could not help observing to my companions as we left the house. Well, it is really provoking to find one who has been made a sir for cutting that wen out of George IV's neck, charging us with contemplating the destruction of the noblesse because we propose to confer upon him the benefits of a railroad. Such being the opposition of the owners of land, it was with the greatest difficulty that an accurate survey of the line could be made. At one point the vigilance of the land-owners and their servants was such that the surveyors were effectually prevented from taking the levels by the light of day, and it was only at length accomplished at night by means of dark lanterns. There was one clergyman who made such alarming demonstrations of his opposition that the extraordinary expedient was resorted to of surveying his property during the time he was engaged in the pulpit. This was managed by having a strong force of surveyors in readiness to commence their operations, who entered the clergyman's grounds on one side the moment they saw him fairly off of them on the other, by a well-organized and systematic arrangement, each man concluded his allotted task just as the reverend gentleman concluded his sermon, so that before he left the church the deed was done, and the sinners had all decamped. Similar opposition was offered at many other points, but ineffectually. The laborious application of Robert Stevenson was such that in examining the country to ascertain the best line he walked the whole distance between London and Birmingham upwards of twenty times. When the bill went before the Committee of the Commons in 1832 a formidable array of evidence was produced. All the railway experience of the day was brought to bear in support of the measure, and all that interested opposition could do were set in motion against it. The necessity for an improved mode of communication between London and Birmingham was clearly demonstrated, and the engineering evidence was regarded as quite satisfactory. Not a single fact was proved against the utility of the measure, and the bill passed the Committee and afterwards the third reading in the Commons by large majorities. It was then sent to the Lords and went into Committee when a similar mass of testimony was again gone through, but it had been evident from the opening of the proceedings that the fate of the bill had been determined before even a word of the evidence had been heard. At that time the Committees were open to all peers, and the promoters of the bill found to their dismay many of the Lords who were avowed opponents of the measure as landowners, sitting as judges to decide its fate. Their principal object seemed to be to bring the proceedings to a termination as quickly as possible. An attempt at negotiation was indeed made in the course of the proceedings in Committee, but failed, and the bill was thrown out. As the result had been foreseen, measures were taken to neutralise the effect of this decision as regarded future operations. Not less than thirty-two thousand pounds had been expended in preliminary and parliamentary expenses up to this stage, but the promoters determined not to look back and forthwith made arrangements for prosecuting the bill in the next session. Strange to say, the bill then passed both houses silently and almost without opposition. The mystery was afterwards solved by the appearance of a circular issued by the directors of the company, in which it was stated that they had opened negotiations with the most influential of their opponents, that these measures had been successful to a greater extent than they had ventured to anticipate, and the most active and formidable had been conciliated. An instructive commentary on the mode by which these noble Lords and influential landed proprietors had been conciliated was the simple fact that the estimate for land was nearly trebled, and that the owners were paid about seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds, for what had been originally estimated at two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. The landowners having thus been conciliated, the promoters of the measure were permitted to proceed with the formation of their great highway. Robert Stephenson was, with the sanction of his father, appointed sole engineer, and steps were at once taken by him to make the working survey, to prepare the working drawings, and to arrange for the construction of the railway. Eighty miles of the road were shortly under contract, having been let within the estimates, and the works were in satisfactory progress by the beginning of 1834. The difficulties encountered in their construction were very great, the most formidable of them originating in the character of the works themselves. Extensive tunnels had to be driven through unknown strata, and miles of underground excavation had to be carried out in order to form a level road from valley to valley under the intervening ridges. This kind of work was the newest of all to the contractors of that day. Robert Stephenson's experience in the Collieries of the North rendered him well fitted to grapple with such difficulties, yet even he, with all his practical knowledge, could scarcely have foreseen the serious obstacles which he was called upon to encounter in executing the formidable cuttings, embankments, and tunnels of the London and Birmingham Railway. It would be an uninteresting, as it would be a fruitless task to attempt to describe the works in detail, but a general outline of their extraordinary character and extent may not be out of place. The length of the railway to be constructed between London and Birmingham was a hundred and twelve point five miles. The line crossed a series of low-lying districts separated from each other by considerable ridges of hills, and it was the object of the engineer to cross the valleys at as high, and the hills at as low elevations as possible. The high ground was therefore cut down, and the stuff fed into embankments, in some places of great height and extent, so as to form a road upon as level a plane as was considered practicable for the workings of the locomotive engine. In some places the high grounds were passed in open cuttings, while in others it was necessary to bore through them in tunnels with deep cuttings at each end. The most formidable excavations on the line are those at Tring, Denby Hall, and Blissworth. The Tring cutting is an immense chasm across the great Chalk Ridge of Ivinghoe. It is two and a half miles long, and for a quarter of a mile is fifty-seven feet deep. A million and a half cubic yards of chalk and earth were taken out of this cutting by means of horse runs, and deposited in spoil banks. Besides the immense quantity run into the embankment north of the cutting, forming a solid mound, nearly six miles long, and about thirty feet high. Passing over the Denby Hall cutting, and the Wolverton embankment, of one and a half miles in length, across the valley of the Ooze, we come to the excavation at Blissworth, a brief description of which will give the reader an idea of one of the most difficult kinds of railway work. The Blissworth cutting is one of the longest and deepest grooves cut in the solid earth. It is one and a half miles long, in some places sixty-five feet deep, passing through earth, stiff clay, and hard rock. Not less than a million cubic yards of these materials were dug, quarried, and blasted out of it. One third of the cutting was stone, and beneath the stone lay a thick bed of clay, under which were found beds of loose shale, so full of water that almost constant pumping was necessary at many points to enable the work to proceed. For a year and a half the contractor went on fruitlessly contending with these difficulties, and at length he was compelled to abandon the adventure. The engineer then took the works in hand for the company, and they were vigorously proceeded with. Steam engines were set to work to pump out the water. Two locomotives were put on, one at each end of the cutting to drag away the excavated rock and clay, and eight hundred men and boys were employed along the work, in digging, wheeling, and blasting, besides a large number of horses. Some idea of the extent of the blasting operations may be formed from the fact that twenty-five barrels of gunpowder were used weekly. The total quantity exploded in forming this one cutting, being about three thousand barrels. Considerable difficulty was experienced in supporting the bed of rock cut through which overlaid the clay and shale along each side of the cutting. It was found necessary to hold it up by strong retaining walls to prevent the clay bed from bulging out, and these walls were further supported by a strong invert—that is, an arch placed in an inverted position under the road, thus binding together the walls on both sides. Behind the retaining walls a drift or horizontal drain was provided to enable the water to be run off, and occasional openings were left in the walls themselves for the same purpose. The work was at length brought to a successful completion, but the extraordinary difficulties encountered in forming the cutting had the effect of greatly increasing the cost of this portion of the railway. The tunnels on the line are eight in number, their total length being seven thousand three hundred and thirty-six yards. The first high ground encountered was Primrose Hill, where the stiff London clay was passed through for a distance of about one thousand one hundred and sixty-four yards. The clay was close, compact and dry—more difficult to work than stone itself. It was entirely free from water, but the absorbing properties of the clay were such that when exposed to the air, it swelled out rapidly. Hence an unusual thickness of brick lining was found necessary, and the engineer afterwards informed the author that for some time he entertained an apprehension lest the pressure should force in the brickwork altogether. It was so great that it made the face of the bricks to fly off in minute chips, which covered his clothes while he was inspecting the work. The materials used in the building were, however, of excellent quality, and the tunnel was happily brought to a completion without any accident. At Watford, the chalk ridge was penetrated by a tunnel about eighteen hundred yards long, and at North Church, Lidslade and Stowe Hill, there were other tunnels of minor extent. But the chief difficulty of the undertaking was the execution of that under the Killsby Ridge. Though not the largest, this is in many respects one of the most interesting works of the kind in England. It is about two thousand four hundred yards long, and runs at an average depth of about a hundred and sixty feet below the surface. The ridge under which it extends is of considerable extent, the famous battle of Naysby having been fought upon one of the spurs of the same high ground, about seven miles to the eastward. Previous to the letting of the contract, the character of the underground soil was examined by trial shafts. The tests indicated that it consisted of shale of the lower Oolite, and the works were led accordingly. But they had scarcely been commenced when it was discovered that at an interval between the two trial shafts, which had been sunk, about two hundred yards from the south end of the tunnel, there existed an extensive quicksand under a bed of clay forty feet thick, which the Boreings had escaped in the most singular manner. At the bottom of one of these shafts the excavation and building of the tunnel were proceeding when the roof at one part suddenly gave way, a deluge of water burst in, and the party of workmen with the utmost difficulty escaped with their lives. They were only saved by means of a raft, on which they were towed by one of the engineers swimming with the rope in his mouth to the lower end of the shaft, out of which they were safely lifted to the daylight. The works were, of course, at that point immediately stopped. The contractor, who had undertaken the construction of the tunnel, was so overwhelmed by the calamity that, though he was relieved by the company from his engagement, he took to his bed and shortly after died. Pumping engines were then erected for the purpose of draining off the water, but for a long time it prevailed, and sometimes even rose in the shaft. The question then presented itself whether, in the face of so formidable a difficulty, the work should be proceeded with or abandoned. Robert Stevenson sent over to Alton Grange for his father, and the two took serious counsel together. George was in favour of pumping out the water from the top by powerful engines erected over each shaft until the water was mastered. Robert concurred in that view, and although other engineers pronounced strongly against the practicability of the scheme and advised its abandonment, the directors authorised him to proceed, and powerful steam engines were ordered to be constructed and delivered without loss of time. In the meantime Robert suggested to his father the expediency of running a drift along the heading, from the south end of the tunnel, with a view of draining off the water in that way. George said he thought it would scarcely answer, but that it was worth a trial, at all events until the pumping engines were got ready. Robert accordingly gave orders for the drift to be proceeded with. The excavators were immediately set to work, and they were very soon close upon the sand-bed. One day, when the engineer, his assistants, and the workman were clustered about the open entrance of the drift-way, they heard a sudden roar as of distant thunder. It was hope that the water had burst in, for all the workmen were out of the drift, and that the sand-bed would now drain itself off in a natural way. Instead of which, very little water made its appearance, and on examining the inner end of the drift, it was found that the loud noise had been caused by the sudden discharge into it of an immense mass of sand, which had completely choked up the passage, and prevented the water from flowing away. The engineer now found that there was nothing for it, but to sink numerous additional shafts over the line of the tunnel, at the points at which it crossed the quicksand, and endeavoured to master the water by sheer force of engines and pumps. The engines erected possessed an aggregate power of one hundred and sixty horses, and they went on pumping for eight successive months, emptying out an almost incredible quantity of water. It was found that the water, with which the bed of sand extending over many miles was charged, was to a certain degree held back by the particles of sand itself, and that it could only percolate through at a certain average rate. It appeared in its flow to take a slanting direction to the suction of the pumps, the angle of inclination depending upon the coarseness or fineness of the sand, and regulating the time of the flow. Hence, the distribution of the pumping power at short intervals along the line of the tunnel had a much greater effect than the concentration of that power at any one spot. It soon appeared that the water had found its master, protected by the pumps, which cleared a space for the engineering operations, carried on in the midst, as it were, of two almost perpendicular walls of water and sand on either side. The workman proceeded with the building of the tunnel at numerous points. Every exertion was used to wall in the dangerous parts as quickly as possible, the excavators and bricklayers laboring night and day until the work was finished. Even while under the protection of the immense pumping power above described, it often happened that the bricks were scarcely covered with cement ready for the setting, ere they were washed quite clean by the streams of water which poured from overhead. The men were accordingly under the necessity of holding over their work large whisks of straw and other appliances to protect the bricks and cement at the moment of setting. The quantity of water pumped out of the sand bed during the eight months of incessant pumping averaged two thousand gallons per minute, raised to an average depth of 120 feet. It is difficult to form an adequate idea of the bulk of the water thus raised, but it may be stated that if allowed to flow for three hours only, it would fill a lake one acre square to the depth of one foot, and if allowed to flow for one entire day, it would fill the lake to over eight feet in depth, or sufficient to float vessels for a hundred tons burden. The water pumped out of the tunnel while the work was in progress would be a nearly equivalent to the contents of the Thames at high water between London and Woolwich. It is a curious circumstance that's notwithstanding the quantity thus removed, the level of the surface of the water in the tunnel was only lowered about two and a half to three inches per week, proving the vast area of the quicksand, which probably extended along the entire ridge of land under which the railway passed. The cost of the line was greatly increased by the difficulties encountered at Killsby. The original estimate for the tunnel was only ninety-nine thousand pounds, but before it was finished it had cost more than a hundred pounds per lineal yard forward, or a total of nearly three hundred thousand pounds. The expenditure on the other parts of the line also greatly exceeded the amount first set down by the engineer, and before the works were finished it was more than doubled. The land cost three times more than the estimate, and the claims for compensation were enormous. Although the contracts were let within the estimates, very few of the contractors were able to complete them without the assistance of the company, and many became bankrupt. The magnitude of the works which were unprecedented in England was one of the most remarkable features of the undertaking. The following striking comparison has been made between this railway and one of the greatest works of ancient times. The Great Pyramid of Egypt was, according to Diodorus Siculus, constructed by three hundred thousand, according to Herodotus, by a hundred thousand men. It required for its execution twenty years, and the labour expended upon it has been estimated as equivalent to lifting fifteen billion seven hundred and thirty-three million of cubic feet of stone one foot high. Whereas, if the labour expended in constructing the London and Birmingham Railway be in like manner reduced to one common denomination, the result is twenty-five billion of cubic feet more than was lifted for the Great Pyramid, and yet the English work was performed by about twenty thousand men in less than five years, and whilst the Egyptian work was executed by a powerful monarch concentrating upon it the labour and capital of a great nation, the English railway was constructed in the face of every conceivable obstruction and difficulty by a company of private individuals out of their own resources without the aid of the government or the contribution of one fathering of public money. The labourers who executed this formidable work were, in many respects, a remarkable class. The railway navvies, as they are called, were men drawn by the attraction of good wages from all parts of the kingdom, and they were ready for any sort of hard work. Some of the best came from the Fenn Districts of Lincoln and Cambridge, where they had been trained to execute works of excavation and embankment. These old practitioners formed a nucleus of skilled manipulation and aptitude, which rendered them of indispensable utility in the immense undertakings of the period. Their expertness in all sorts of earthwork, in embanking, boring and well-sinking, their practical knowledge of the nature of soils and rocks, the tenacity of clays, and the porosity of certain stratifications, were very great, and, rough looking though they were, many of them were as important in their own department as the contractor or the engineer. During the railway-making period the navvy wandered about from one public work to another, apparently belonging to no country and having no home. He usually wore a white felt hat with the brim turned up, a velvety nor jeans-square-tailed coat, a scarlet plush waistcoat with little black spots, and a bright-coloured kerchief round his herculean neck, when as often happened it was not left entirely bare. His corduroy britches were retained in position by a leather strap round the waist, and were tied and buttoned at the knee, displaying beneath a solid calf and foot, encased in strong, high-laced boots. Joining together in a butty gang, some ten or twelve of these men would take a contract to cut out and remove so much dirt as they denominated earth-cutting, fixing their price according to the character of the stuff, at the distance to which it had be wheeled and tipped. The contract taken, every man put himself on his metal. If any was found skulking or not putting forth his full working-power, he was ejected from the gang. Their powers of endurance were extraordinary. In times of emergency they would work for twelve or even sixteen hours, with only short intervals for meals. The quantity of flesh-meat which they consumed was something enormous, but it was to their bones and muscles what coke is to the locomotive, the means of keeping up the steam. They displayed great pluck, and seemed to disregard peril. Indeed, the most dangerous sort of labour, such as working horse-barrow runs, in which accidents are of constant occurrence, has always been most in request among them, the danger seeming to be one of its chief recommendations. Working, eating, drinking, and sleeping together, and daily exposed to the same influences, these railway labourers soon presented a distinct and well-defined character, strongly marking them from the population of the districts in which they laboured. Reckless alike of their lives as of their earnings, the navies worked hard and lived hard. For their lodging, a hut of turf would content them, and in their hours of leisure the meanest public house would serve for their parlour. Unburdened, as they usually were, by domestic ties, unsoften by family affection, and without much moral or religious training, the navies came to be distinguished by a sort of savage manners, which contrasted strangely with those of the surrounding population. Yet ignorant and violent though they might be, they were usually good-hearted fellows in the main, frank and open-handed with their comrades, and ready to share their last penny with those in distress. Their pay-nights were often a satanalia of riot and disorder, dreaded by the inhabitants of the villages along the line of works. The eruption of such men into the quiet hamlet of Killsby must indeed have produced a very startling effect on the recluse inhabitants of the place. Robert Stevenson used to tell a story of the clergyman of the parish, waiting upon the foreman of one of the gangs, to expostulate with him as to the shocking impropriety of his men working during Sunday, but the head-navi merely hitched up his trousers and said, vile Sunday's uncropped doppier yet! In short, the navies were little better than heathens, and the village of Killsby was not restored to its wanted quiet, until the tunnel works were finished, and the engines and scaffoldings removed, leaving only the immense masses of debris around the line of shafts which extend along the top of the tunnel. In illustration of the extraordinary working energy and powers of endurance of the English navies, we may mention that when railway-making extended to France, the English contractors for the works took with them gangs of English navies with the usual plant, which included wheel-barrows. The easy English navie was accustomed to run out rapidly and continuously piled so high with stuff that he could barely see, over the summit of his load, the gang-board along which he wheeled his barrow. While he thus easily ran out some three or four hundred weight at a time, the French navie was contented with half the weight. Indeed, the French navies, on one occasion, struck work because of the size of the English barrows, and there was an emote on the Rouen railway, which was only quelled by the aid of the military. The consequence was that the big barrows were abandoned to the English workmen, who earned nearly double the wages of the Frenchmen. The manner in which they stood to their work was a matter of great surprise and wonderment to the French country-people who came crowding round them in their blouses, and after gazing admiringly at their expert handling of the pick and the mattock, and the immense loads of dirt which they wheeled out, would exclaim to each other, Mon Dieu, voilà, voilà c'est anglais comme il travaille. End of chapter 13.