CHAPTER V.
HUNTING UP HIS OWN WORK—AN ENTERPRISING QUAKER—WHAT WAS THE RESULT?
It appears strange to us that so simple a thing as the laying of a railseems to be should have taken years of thought and experiment to do it.Nothing looks easier to prepare than the straight, smooth track of arailway, such as we now see in use; and yet it was only arrived at byslow steps through two hundred years.
In pondering upon the powers of "Puffing Billy," George Stephenson sawthat the efficiency of locomotives must, in a great measure, depend onwhat kind of roads they had to run upon. Many were sanguine thatsteam-carriages would some day come into use on common roads. After along series of experiments, George Stephenson said, "No; the thingwouldn't pay." For a rough surface seriously impairs the powers of alocomotive; even sand scattered upon the rails is sufficient to slacken,and even stop an engine. The least possible friction is desirable, andthis is found on the smooth rail.
Could they ever be laid uphill, or on "ascending gradients", as thescientific term is? No; as nearly level as possible, Stephenson'sexperiments showed, was the best economy of power. Then how to get ridof the jolts and jars and breakages of the rails as they were then laid.He studied and experimented upon both chairs and sleepers, and finallyembodied all his improvements in the colliery railway.
"Puffing Billy" was in every respect a most remarkable piece ofmachinery, and its constructer one of the most sagacious and persistentof men. But how was the public, ever slow in discovering true merit oraccepting real benefits, to discover and appreciate them? Neitherinfluence, education, nor patronage had Stephenson to command mind andmeans, or to drive his engine through prejudice, indifference, andopposition, to profit and success.
But what he could not do, other men could do, and did do. Find a hook,and there is an eye to fit it somewhere. Yes; there were already men ofproperty and standing alive with the new idea. While he worked, theytalked—as yet unknown to one another, but each by himself clearing thetrack for a grand junction.
One of these men was Edward Pease, a rich Quaker of Darlington, who, hisfriends said, "could look a hundred miles ahead." He needed a quickerand easier transit for his coals from the collieries north of Darlingtonto Stockton, where they were shipped; and Mr. Pease began to agitate, inhis mind, a railroad. A company for this purpose was formed, chiefly ofhis own friends, whom he fairly talked into it. Scarcely twenty shareswere taken by the merchants and shipowners of Stockton, whose eyes werenot open to the advantage it would by-and-by be to them. A survey of theproposed road was made, when to the indifference of the many was addedthe opposition of the few. A duke was afraid for his foxes! Shareholdersin the turnpikes declared it would ruin their stock. Timid men said itwas a new thing, and that it was best to let new things alone. The worldwould never improve much under _such_ counsel. Edward Pease was hamperedon all sides. Nobody convinced him that his first plan was not the rightone by all odds; but what can a man do in any public enterprise withoutsupporters? So he reluctantly was obliged to give up his rail-road, andask Parliament for liberty to build a tram-road—horse-power instead ofsteam-power: he could seem to do no better, and even this was gottenonly after long delay and at considerable cost.
Among the thousands who carelessly read in the newspapers the passagethrough Parliament of the Stockton and Darlington Act, there was onehumble man whose eye kindled as he read it. In his bosom it awakened aprofound interest. He went to bed and got up brooding over it. He washungry to have a hand in it; until at last, yearning with anirrepressible desire to do his own work in the world, he felt he must goforth to seek it.
One night a couple of strangers knocked at the door of Edward Pease'shouse in Darlington, and introduced themselves as two Killingworthcolliers. One of them handed the master of the mansion a letter ofintroduction from a gentleman of Newcastle, recommending him as a manwho might prove useful in carrying out his contemplated road.
To support the application, a friend accompanied him.
The man was George Stephenson, and his friend was Nicholas Wood. It didnot take long for Edward Pease to see that Stephenson was precisely theman he wanted.
THE TWO STRANGERS.]
"A railway, and not a tram-road," said Stephenson, when the subject wasfairly and fully opened.
"A horse railway?" asked Pease.
"A locomotive engine is worth fifty horses," exclaimed Stephenson; andonce on the track, he launched out boldly in its behalf.
"Come over to Killingworth and see my 'Puffing Billy,'" said George;"seeing is believing." And Mr. Pease, as you may suppose, was quiteanxious to see a machine that would outride the fleetest horse. Yet hedid not need "Puffing Billy" to convince him that its constructer knewwhat he was advocating, and could make good his pledges. The goodQuaker's courage rapidly rose. He took a new start, and the consequencewas that all other plans and men were thrown aside, and Stephenson wasengaged to put the road through much in his own way.
The first thing to be done was to make an accurate survey of theproposed route. Taking Robert with him, who had just come from college,and who entered as heartily into the enterprise as his father, with twoother tried men, they began work in good earnest. From daylight tillnight the surveyors were on duty. One of the men going to Darlington tosleep one night, four miles off, "Now, you must not start fromDarlington at daybreak," said Stephenson, "but be here, ready to beginwork, at daybreak." He and Robert used to make their home at thefarm-houses along the way, where his good-humour and friendliness madehim a great favourite. The children loved him dearly. The dogs waggedtheir approving tails at his approach. The birds had a delightedlistener to their morning songs, and every dumb creature had a kindglance from his friendly eye.
But George was not quite satisfied. He wished Mr. Pease to go toKillingworth to see "Puffing Billy," and become convinced of itseconomical habits by an examination of the colliery accounts. Hepromised, therefore, to follow George thither, along with a largestockholder; and over they went in the summer of 1822.
Inquiring for Stephenson, they were directed to the cottage with asun-dial over the door. George drove his locomotive up, hoisted in thegentlemen, harnessed on a heavy load, and away they went. George nodoubt showed "Billy" off to the best advantage. "Billy" performedadmirably; and the two wondering stockholders went home enthusiasticbelievers in locomotive power.
A good many things had to be settled by the Darlington project. One wasthe width of the gauge; that is, the distance between the rails. Howwide apart should they be? Stephenson said the space between the cartand waggon wheels of a common road was a good criterion. The tram-roadshad been laid down by this gauge—four feet and eight inches—and hethought it about right for the railway; so this gauge was adopted.
One thing which hampered Stephenson not a little was the want of theright sort of workmen—quick-minded, skilful mechanics, who could put hisideas into the right shape. The labour of originating so much we cannever know. He had nothing to copy from, and nobody's experience to goby. Happily he proved equal to his task. We can readily imagine hisanxiety as the work progressed. Hope and fear must have in turn raisedand depressed him. Not that he had any doubts in regard to the finalissue of the grand experiment of railroads. They _must_ go!
Dining one day at a small inn with Robert, and John Dixon, after walkingover the route, then nearly completed—"Lads," he said, "I think you willlive to see the day when railroads will be the great highway for theking and all his subjects. The time is coming when it will be cheaperfor a working-man to travel on a railway than to walk on foot. There arebig difficulties in the way, I know; but it will surely come to pass. Ican hardly hope to live to see that day, much as I should like to do so;for I know how slow all human progress is, and how hard it is to makemen believe in the locomotive, even after our ten years' success inKillingworth."
While the father roughed it through, Robert's health failed. His closeapplication to business made sad inroa
ds upon a frame naturally moredelicate than his father's; and an offer to go out and superintend somemining operations in South America was thankfully accepted, in the hopethat a sea-voyage and less exciting labours might restore him.
A TALK ABOUT RAILWAYS.]
Robert shortly sailed; and his father pushed on alone, with that bravespirit which carried him through many a darker hour.
On the 27th of September the Stockton and Darlington Railway wasfinished and opened. A great many came to see the new mode oftravelling, which had proved a fruitful subject of talk, far and near,for many months;—some to rejoice; some to see the bubble burst; somewith wonder, not knowing what to think; some with determined hostility.The opposition was strong: old England against young England; thecounter currents of old and new ideas.
The road ran from Stockton to Darlington, a distance of twelve miles,and thence to the Etherly collieries—in all, thirty-two miles.
Four steam-engines were employed, and two stationary engines to hoistthe train over two hills on the route. The locomotives were of six-horsepower, and went at the rate of five or six miles an hour. Slow as thiswas, it was regarded with wonder. A "travelling engine" seemed almost amiracle. One day a race came off between a locomotive and a coachrunning on the common highway; and it was regarded as a great triumphthat the former reached Stockton first, leaving the coach one hundredyards behind.
The road was built for a freight road, to convey lime, coal, and bricksfrom the mines and kilns in the interior to the sea-board for shipmentabroad. Carrying passengers was not thought of. Enterprise, however, inthis direction took a new start. A company was soon formed to run twocoaches on the rails between Darlington and Stockton by horse-power.Each coach accommodated six inside passengers, and from fifteen totwenty outside; was drawn by one horse; and went at the rate of ninemiles an hour.
"We seated ourselves," said a traveller of those days, "on the top ofthe 'Defence' coach, and started from Stockton highly interested withthe novelty of the scene and of this new and extraordinary conveyance.Nothing could be more surprising than the rapidity and smoothness of themotion." Yet the coach was without springs, and jerked and jolted overthe joints of the rails with a noise like the clinking of a mill-hopper.
"Such is the first great attempt to establish the use of railways,"writes a delighted editor, "for the general purposes of travelling; andsuch is its success, that the traffic is already great, and, consideringthat there was formerly no coach at all on either of the roads alongwhich the railroad runs, quite wonderful. A trade and intercourse havearisen out of nothing, and nobody knows how."
Such was their small and imperfect beginning, _we_ should say, now thatrailroads, improved and perfected, have fulfilled Stephenson'sprediction uttered in the little inn, and have become the great highwaysof the civilized world.