The London and Birmingham Railway having been completed in September,
1838, after being about five years in progress, the great main system of
railway communication between London, Liverpool, and Manchester was then
opened to the public.  For some months previously, the line had been
partially opened, coaches performing the journey between Denbigh Hall
(near Wolverton) and Rugby,--the works of the Kilsby tunnel being still
incomplete.  It was already amusing to hear the complaints of the
travellers about the slowness of the coaches as compared with the
railway, though the coaches travelled at the speed of eleven miles an
hour.  The comparison of comfort was also greatly to the disparagement of
the coaches.  Then the railway train could accommodate any quantity,
whilst the road conveyances were limited; and when a press of travellers
occurred--as on the occasion of the Queen's coronation--the greatest
inconvenience was experienced, and as much as 10 pounds was paid for a
seat on a donkey-chaise between Rugby and Denbigh.  On the opening of the
railway throughout, of course all this inconvenience and delay was
brought to an end.

Numerous other openings of railways constructed by Mr. Stephenson took
place about the same time.  The Birmingham and Derby line was opened for
traffic in August, 1839; the Sheffield and Rotherham in November, 1839;
and in the course of the following year, the Midland, the York and North
Midland, the Chester and Crewe, the Chester and Birkenhead, the
Manchester and Birmingham, the Manchester and Leeds, and the Maryport and
Carlisle railways, were all publicly opened in whole or in part.  Thus
321 miles of railway (exclusive of the London and Birmingham) constructed
under Mr. Stephenson's superintendence, at a cost of upwards of eleven
millions sterling, were, in the course of about two years, added to the
traffic accommodation of the country.

The ceremonies which accompanied the public opening of these lines were
often of an interesting character.  The adjoining population held general
holiday; bands played, banners waved, and assembled thousands cheered the
passing trains amidst the occasional booming of cannon.  The proceedings
were usually wound up by a public dinner; and in the course of the
speeches which followed, Mr. Stephenson would revert to his favourite
topic--the difficulties which he had early encountered in the promotion
of the railway system, and in establishing the superiority of the
locomotive.  On such occasions he always took great pleasure in alluding
to the services rendered to himself and the public by the young men
brought up under his eye--his pupils at first, and afterwards his
assistants.  No great master ever possessed a more devoted band of
assistants and fellow-workers than he did.  It was one of the most marked
evidences of his own admirable tact and judgment that he selected, with
such undeviating correctness, the men best fitted to carry out his plans.
Indeed, the ability to accomplish great things, and to carry grand ideas
into practical effect, depends in no small measure on that intuitive
knowledge of character, which Stephenson possessed in so remarkable a
degree.

At the dinner at York, which followed the partial opening of the York and
North Midland Railway, Mr. Stephenson said, "he was sure they would
appreciate his feelings when he told them, that when he first began
railway business his hair was black, although it was now grey; and that
he began his life's labour as but a poor ploughboy.  About thirty years
since, he had applied himself to the study of how to generate high
velocities by mechanical means.  He thought he had solved that problem;
and they had for themselves seen, that day, what perseverance had brought
him too.  He was, on that occasion, only too happy to have an opportunity
of acknowledging that he had, in the latter portion of his career,
received much most valuable assistance, particularly from young men
brought up in his manufactory.  Whenever talent showed itself in a young
man he had always given that talent encouragement where he could, and he
would continue to do so."

That this was no exaggerated statement is amply proved by many facts
which redound to Mr. Stephenson's credit.  He was no niggard of
encouragement and praise when he saw honest industry struggling for a
footing.  Many were the young men whom, in the course of his useful
career, he took by the hand and led steadily up to honour and emolument,
simply because he had noted their zeal, diligence, and integrity.  One
youth excited his interest while working as a common carpenter on the
Liverpool and Manchester line; and before many years had passed, he was
recognised as an engineer of distinction.  Another young man he found
industriously working away at his bye-hours, and, admiring his diligence,
engaged him for his private secretary, the gentleman shortly after rising
to a position of eminent influence and usefulness.  Indeed, nothing gave
Mr. Stephenson greater pleasure than in this way to help on any deserving
youth who came under his observation, and, in his own expressive phrase,
to "make a man of him."

The openings of the great main lines of railroad communication shortly
proved the fallaciousness of the numerous rash prophecies which had been
promulgated by the opponents of railways.  The proprietors of the canals
were astounded by the fact that, notwithstanding the immense traffic
conveyed by rail, their own traffic and receipts continued to increase;
and that, in common with other interests, they fully shared in the
expansion of trade and commerce which had been so effectually promoted by
the extension of the railway system.  The cattle-owners were equally
amazed to find the price of horse-flesh increasing with the extension of
railways, and that the number of coaches running to and from the new
railway stations gave employment to a greater number of horses than under
the old stage-coach system.  Those who had prophesied the decay of the
metropolis, and the ruin of the suburban cabbage-growers, in consequence
of the approach of railways to London, were also disappointed; for, while
the new roads let citizens out of London, they let country-people in.
Their action, in this respect, was centripetal as well as centrifugal.
Tens of thousands who had never seen the metropolis could now visit it
expeditiously and cheaply; and Londoners who had never visited the
country, or but rarely, were enabled, at little cost of time or money, to
see green fields and clear blue skies, far from the smoke and bustle of
town.  If the dear suburban-grown cabbages became depreciated in value,
there were truck-loads of fresh-grown country cabbages to make amends for
the loss: in this case, the "partial evil" was a far more general good.
The food of the metropolis became rapidly improved, especially in the
supply of wholesome meat and vegetables.  And then the price of coals--an
article which, in this country, is as indispensable as daily food to all
classes--was greatly reduced.  What a blessing to the metropolitan poor
is described in this single fact!

The prophecies of ruin and disaster to landlords and farmers were equally
confounded by the openings of the railways.  The agricultural
communications, so far from being "destroyed," as had been predicted,
were immensely improved.  The farmers were enabled to buy their coals,
lime, and manure for less money, while they obtained a readier access to
the best markets for their stock and farm-produce.  Notwithstanding the
predictions to the contrary, their cows gave milk as before, their sheep
fed and fattened, and even skittish horses ceased to shy at the passing
locomotive.  The smoke of the engines did not obscure the sky, nor were
farmyards burnt up by the fire thrown from the locomotives.  The farming
classes were not reduced to beggary; on the contrary, they soon felt
that, so far from having anything to dread, they had very much good to
expect from the extension of railways.

Landlords also found that they could get higher rents for farms situated
near a railway than at a distance from one.  Hence they became clamorous
for "sidings."  They felt it to be a grievance to be placed at a distance
from a station.  After a railway had been once opened, not a landlord
would consent to have the line taken from him.  Owners who had fought the
promoters before Parliament, and compelled them to pass their domains at
a distance, at a vastly-increased expense in tunnels and deviations, now
petitioned for branches and nearer station accommodation.  Those who held
property near towns, and had extorted large sums as compensation for the
anticipated deterioration in the value of their building land, found a
new demand for it springing up at greatly advanced prices.  Land was now
advertised for sale, with the attraction of being "near a railway
station."

The prediction that, even if railways were made, the public would not use
them, was also completely falsified by the results.  The ordinary mode of
fast travelling for the middle classes had heretofore been by mail-coach
and stage-coach.  Those who could not afford to pay the high prices
charged for such conveyances went by waggon, and the poorer classes
trudged on foot.  George Stephenson was wont to say that he hoped to see
the day when it would be cheaper for a poor man to travel by railway than
to walk, and not many years passed before his expectation was fulfilled.
In no country in the world is time worth more money than in England; and
by saving time--the criterion of distance--the railway proved a great
benefactor to men of industry in all classes.

It was some time before the more opulent, who could afford to post to
town in aristocratic style, became reconciled to railway travelling.  In
the opinion of many, it was only another illustration of the levelling
tendencies of the age.  It put an end to that gradation of rank in
travelling which was one of the few things left by which the nobleman
could be distinguished from the Manchester manufacturer and bagman.  But
to younger sons of noble families the convenience and cheapness of the
railway did not fail to recommend itself.  One of these, whose eldest
brother had just succeeded to an earldom, said one day to a railway
manager: "I like railways--they just suit young fellows like me with
'nothing per annum paid quarterly.'  You know we can't afford to post,
and it used to be deuced annoying to me, as I was jogging along on the
box-seat of the stage-coach, to see the little Earl go by drawn by his
four posters, and just look up at me and give me a nod.  But now, with
railways, it's different.  It's true, he may take a first-class ticket,
while I can only afford a second-class one, but _we both go the same
pace_."

For a time, however, many of the old families sent forward their servants
and luggage by railroad, and condemned themselves to jog along the old
highway in the accustomed family chariot, dragged by country post-horses.
But the superior comfort of the railway shortly recommended itself to
even the oldest families; posting went out of date; post-horses were with
difficulty to be had along even the great high-roads; and nobles and
servants, manufacturers and peasants, alike shared in the comfort, the
convenience, and the despatch of railway travelling.  The late Dr.
Arnold, of Rugby, regarded the opening of the London and Birmingham line
as another great step accomplished in the march of civilisation.  "I
rejoice to see it," he said, as he stood on one of the bridges over the
railway, and watched the train flashing along under him, and away through
the distant hedgerows--"I rejoice to see it, and to think that feudality
is gone for ever: it is so great a blessing to think that any one evil is
really extinct."

It was long before the late Duke of Wellington would trust himself behind
a locomotive.  The fatal accident to Mr. Huskisson, which had happened
before his eyes, contributed to prejudice him strongly against railways,
and it was not until the year 1843 that he performed his first trip on
the South-Western Railway, in attendance upon her Majesty.  Prince Albert
had for some time been accustomed to travel by railway alone, but in 1842
the Queen began to make use of the same mode of conveyance between
Windsor and London.  Even Colonel Sibthorpe was eventually compelled to
acknowledge its utility.  For a time he continued to post to and from the
country as before.  Then he compromised the matter by taking a railway
ticket for the long journey, and posting only a stage or two nearest
town; until, at length, he undisguisedly committed himself, like other
people, to the express train, and performed the journey throughout upon
what he had formerly denounced as "the infernal railroad."

                [Picture: Coalville and Snibston Colliery]

                [Picture: Tapton House, near Chesterfield]




CHAPTER XV.
GEORGE STEPHENSON'S COAL MINES--APPEARS AT MECHANICS' INSTITUTES--HIS
OPINION ON RAILWAY SPEEDS--ATMOSPHERIC SYSTEM--RAILWAY MANIA--VISITS TO
BELGIUM AND SPAIN.


While George Stephenson was engaged in carrying on the works of the
Midland Railway in the neighbourhood of Chesterfield, several seams of
coal were cut through in the Claycross Tunnel, and it occurred to him
that if mines were opened out there, the railway would provide the means
of a ready sale for the article in the midland counties, and as far south
as even the metropolis itself.

At a time when everybody else was sceptical as to the possibility of
coals being carried from the midland counties to London, and sold there
at a price to compete with those which were seaborne, he declared his
firm conviction that the time was fast approaching when the London market
would be regularly supplied with north-country coals led by railway.  One
of the greatest advantages of railways, in his opinion was that they
would bring iron and coal, the staple products of the country, to the
doors of all England.  "The strength of Britain," he would say, "lies in
her iron and coal beds; and the locomotive is destined, above all other
agencies, to bring it forth.  The Lord Chancellor now sits upon a bag of
wool; but wool has long ceased to be emblematical of the staple commodity
of England.  He ought rather to sit upon a bag of coals, though it might
not prove quite so comfortable a seat.  Then think of the Lord Chancellor
being addressed as the noble and learned lord _on the coal-sack_!  I am
afraid it wouldn't answer, after all."

To one gentleman he said: "We want from the coal-mining, the
iron-producing and manufacturing districts, a great railway for the
carriage of these valuable products.  We want, if I may so say, a stream
of steam running directly through the country, from the North to London,
and from other similar districts to London.  Speed is not so much an
object as utility and cheapness.  It will not do to mix up the heavy
merchandise and coal trains with the passenger trains.  Coal and most
kinds of goods can wait; but passengers will not.  A less perfect road
and less expensive works will do well enough for coal trains, if run at a
low speed; and if the line be flat, it is not of much consequence whether
it be direct or not.  Whenever you put passenger trains on a line, all
the other trains must be run at high speeds to keep out of their way.
But coal trains run at high speeds pull the road to pieces, besides
causing large expenditure in locomotive power; and I doubt very much
whether they will pay after all; but a succession of long coal trains, if
run at from ten to fourteen miles an hour, would pay very well.  Thus the
Stockton and Darlington Company made a larger profit when running coal at
low speeds at a halfpenny a ton per mile, than they have been able to do
since they put on their fast passenger trains, when everything must needs
be run faster, and a much larger proportion of the gross receipts is
absorbed by working expenses."

In advocating these views, Mr. Stephenson was considerably ahead of his
time; and although he did not live to see his anticipations fully
realised as to the supply of the London coal-market, he was nevertheless
the first to point out, and to some extent to prove, the practicability
of establishing a profitable coal trade by railway between the northern
counties and the metropolis.  So long, however, as the traffic was
conducted on main passenger lines at comparatively high speeds, it was
found that the expenditure on tear and wear of road and locomotive
power,--not to mention the increased risk of carrying on the first-class
passenger traffic with which it was mixed up,--necessarily left a very
small margin of profit; and hence Mr. Stephenson was in the habit of
urging the propriety of constructing a railway which should be
exclusively devoted to goods and mineral traffic run at low speeds as the
only condition on which a large railway traffic of that sort could be
profitably conducted.

Having induced some of his Liverpool friends to join him in a coal-mining
adventure at Chesterfield, a lease was taken of the Claycross estate,
then for sale, and operations were shortly after begun.  At a subsequent
period Mr. Stephenson extended his coal-mining operations in the same
neighbourhood; and in 1841 he himself entered into a contract with owners
of land in adjoining townships for the working of the coal thereunder;
and pits were opened on the Tapton estate on an extensive scale.  About
the same time he erected great lime-works, close to the Ambergate station
of the Midland Railway, from which, when in full operation he was able to
turn out upwards of 200 tons a day.  The limestone was brought on a
tramway from the village of Crich, 2 or 3 miles distant, the coal being
supplied from his adjoining Claycross colliery.  The works were on a
scale such as had not before been attempted by any private individual
engaged in a similar trade; and we believe they proved very successful.

                    [Picture: Lime Works at Ambergate]

Tapton House was included in the lease of one of the collieries, and as
it was conveniently situated--being, as it were, a central point on the
Midland Railway, from which he could readily proceed north or south, on
his journeys of inspection of the various lines then under construction
in the midland and northern counties,--he took up his residence there,
and it continued his home until the close of his life.

Tapton House is a large roomy brick mansion, beautifully situated amidst
woods, upon a commanding eminence, about a mile to the north-east of the
town of Chesterfield.  Green fields dotted with fine trees slope away
from the house in all directions.  The surrounding country is undulating
and highly picturesque.  North and south the eye ranges over a vast
extent of lovely scenery; and on the west, looking over the town of
Chesterfield, with its church and crooked spire, the extensive range of
the Derbyshire hills bounds the distance.  The Midland Railway skirts the
western edge of the park in a deep rock cutting, and the shrill whistle
of the locomotive sounds near at hand as the trains speed past.  The
gardens and pleasure-grounds adjoining the house were in a very neglected
state when Mr. Stephenson first went to Tapton; and he promised himself,
when he had secured rest and leisure from business, that he would put a
new face upon both.  The first improvement he made was cutting a woodland
footpath up the hill-side, by which he at the same time added a beautiful
feature to the park, and secured a shorter road to the Chesterfield
station.  But it was some years before he found time to carry into effect
his contemplated improvements in the adjoining gardens and
pleasure-grounds.  He had so long been accustomed to laborious pursuits,
and felt himself still so full of work, that he could not at once settle
down into the habit of quietly enjoying the fruits of his industry.

He had no difficulty in usefully employing his time.  Besides directing
the mining operations at Claycross, the establishment of the lime-kilns
at Ambergate, and the construction of the extensive railways still in
progress, he occasionally paid visits to Newcastle, where his locomotive
manufactory was now in full work, and the proprietors were reaping the
advantages of his early foresight in an abundant measure of prosperity.
One of his most interesting visits to the place was in 1838, on the
occasion of the meeting of the British Association there, when he acted
as one of the Vice-Presidents in the section of Mechanical Science.
Extraordinary changes had occurred in his own fortunes, as well as in the
face of the country, since he had first appeared before a scientific body
in Newcastle--the members of the Literary and Philosophical Institute--to
submit his safety-lamp for their examination.  Twenty-three years had
passed over his head, full of honest work, of manful struggle; and the
humble "colliery engine-wright of the name of Stephenson" had achieved an
almost worldwide reputation as a public benefactor.  His fellow-townsmen,
therefore, could not hesitate to recognise his merits and do honour to
his name.  During the sittings of the Association, Mr. Stephenson took
the opportunity of paying a visit to Killingworth, accompanied by some of
the distinguished _savans_ whom he numbered amongst his friends.  He
there pointed out to them, with a degree of honest pride, the cottage in
which he had lived for so many years, showed what parts of it had been
his own handiwork, and told them the story of the sun-dial over the door,
describing the study and the labour it had cost him and his son to
calculate its dimensions, and fix it in its place.  The dial had been
serenely numbering the hours through the busy years that had elapsed
since that humble dwelling had been his home; during which the
Killingworth locomotive had become a great working power, and its
contriver had established the railway system, which was now rapidly
becoming extended in all parts of the world.

About the same time, his services were very much in request at the
meetings of Mechanics' Institutes held throughout the northern counties.
From an early period in his history, he had taken an active interest in
these institutions.  While residing at Newcastle in 1824, shortly after
his locomotive foundry had been started in Forth-street, he presided at a
public meeting held in that town for the purpose of establishing a
Mechanics' Institute.  The meeting was held; but as George Stephenson was
a man comparatively unknown even in Newcastle at that time, his name
failed to secure "an influential attendance."  Among those who addressed
the meeting on the occasion was Joseph Locke, then his pupil, and
afterwards his rival as an engineer.  The local papers scarcely noticed
the proceedings; yet the Mechanics' Institute was founded, and struggled
into existence.  Years passed, and it was now felt to be an honour to
secure Mr. Stephenson's presence at any public meetings held for the
promotion of popular education.  Among the Mechanics' Institutes in his
immediate neighbourhood at Tapton, were those of Belper and Chesterfield;
and at their soirees he was a frequent and a welcome visitor.  On these
occasions he loved to tell his auditors of the difficulties which had
early beset him through want of knowledge, and of the means by which he
had overcome them.  His grand text was--PERSEVERE; and there was manhood
in the very word.

On more than one occasion, the author had the pleasure of listening to
George Stephenson's homely but forcible addresses at the annual soirees
of the Leeds Mechanics' Institute.  He was always an immense favourite
with his audiences there.  His personal appearance was greatly in his
favour.  A handsome, ruddy, expressive face, lit up by bright dark-blue
eyes, prepared one for his earnest words when he stood up to speak and
the cheers had subsided which invariably hailed his rising.  He was not
glib, but he was very impressive.  And who, so well as he, could serve as
a guide to the working man in his endeavours after higher knowledge?  His
early life had been all struggle--encounter with difficulty--groping in
the dark after greater light, but always earnestly and perseveringly.
His words were therefore all the more weighty, since he spoke from the
fulness of his own experience.

Nor did he remain a mere inactive spectator of the improvements in
railway working which increasing experience from day to day suggested.
He continued to contrive improvements in the locomotive, and to mature
his invention of the carriage-brake.  When examined before the Select
Committee on Railways in 1841, his mind seems principally to have been
impressed with the necessity which existed for adopting a system of self
acting brakes; stating that, in his opinion, this was the most important
arrangement that could be provided for increasing the safety of railway
travelling.  "I believe," he said, "that if self-acting brakes were put
upon every carriage, scarcely any accident could take place."  His plan
consisted in employing the momentum of the running train to throw his
proposed brakes into action, immediately on the moving power of the
engine being checked.  He would also have these brakes under the control
of the guard, by means of a connecting line running along the whole
length of the train, by which they should at once be thrown out of gear
when necessary.  At the same time he suggested, as an additional means of
safety, that the signals of the line should be self-acting, and worked by
the locomotives as they passed along the railway.  He considered the
adoption of this plan of so much importance, that, with a view to the
public safety, he would even have it enforced upon railway companies by
the legislature.  At the same time he was of opinion that it was the
interest of the companies themselves to adopt the plan, as it would save
great tear and wear of engines, carriages, tenders, and brake-vans,
besides greatly diminishing the risk of accidents upon railways.

While before the same Committee, he took the opportunity of stating his
views with reference to railway speed, about which wild ideas were then
afloat--one gentleman of celebrity having publicly expressed the opinion
that a speed of 100 miles an hour was practicable in railway travelling!
Not many years had passed since George Stephenson had been pronounced
insane for stating his conviction that 12 miles an hour could be
performed by the locomotive; but now that he had established the fact,
and greatly exceeded that speed, he was thought behind the age because he
recommended the rate to be limited to 40 miles an hour.  He said: "I do
not like either 40 or 50 miles an hour upon any line--I think it is an
unnecessary speed; and if there is danger upon a railway, it is high
velocity that creates it.  I should say no railway ought to exceed 40
miles an hour on the most favourable gradient; but upon a curved line the
speed ought not to exceed 24 or 25 miles an hour."  He had, indeed,
constructed for the Great Western Railway an engine capable of running 50
miles an hour with a load, and 80 miles without one.  But he never was in
favour of a hurricane speed of this sort, believing it could only be
accomplished at an unnecessary increase both of danger and expense.

"It is true," he observed on other occasions, "I have said the locomotive
engine _might_ be made to travel 100 miles an hour; but I always put a
qualification on this, namely, as to what speed would best suit the
public.  The public may, however, be unreasonable; and 50 or 60 miles an
hour is an unreasonable speed.  Long before railway travelling became
general, I said to my friends that there was no limit to the speed of the
locomotive, _provided the works could be made to stand_.  But there are
limits to the strength of iron, whether it be manufactured into rails or
locomotives; and there is a point at which both rails and tyres must
break.  Every increase of speed, by increasing the strain upon the road
and the rolling stock, brings us nearer to that point.  At 30 miles a
slighter road will do, and less perfect rolling stock may be run upon it
with safety.  But if you increase the speed by say 10 miles, then
everything must be greatly strengthened.  You must have heavier engines,
heavier and better-fastened rails, and all your working expenses will be
immediately increased.  I think I know enough of mechanics to know where
to stop.  I know that a pound will weigh a pound, and that no more should
be put upon an iron rail than it will bear.  If you could ensure perfect
iron, perfect rails, and perfect locomotives, I grant 50 miles an hour or
more might be run with safety on a level railway.  But then you must not
forget that iron, even the best, will 'tire,' and with constant use will
become more and more liable to break at the weakest point--perhaps where
there is a secret flaw that the eye cannot detect.  Then look at the
rubbishy rails now manufactured on the contract system--some of them
little better than cast metal: indeed, I have seen rails break merely on
being thrown from the truck on to the ground.  How is it possible for
such rails to stand a 20 or 30 ton engine dashing over them at the speed
of 50 miles an hour?  No, no," he would conclude, "I am in favour of low
speeds because they are safe, and because they are economical; and you
may rely upon it that, beyond a certain point, with every increase of
speed there is an increase in the element of danger."

When railways became the subject of popular discussion, many new and
unsound theories were started with reference to them, which Stephenson
opposed as calculated, in his opinion, to bring discredit on the
locomotive system.  One of these was with reference to what were called
"undulating lines."  Among others, Dr. Lardner, who had originally been
somewhat sceptical about the powers of the locomotive, now promulgated
the idea that a railway constructed with rising and falling gradients
would be practically as easy to work as a line perfectly level.  Mr.
Badnell went even beyond him, for he held that an undulating railway was
much better than a level one for purposes of working.  For a time, this
theory found favour, and the "undulating system" was extensively adopted;
but Mr. Stephenson never ceased to inveigh against it; and experience has
amply proved that his judgment was correct.  His practice, from the
beginning of his career until the end of it, was to secure a road as
nearly as possible on a level, following the course of the valleys and
the natural line of the country: preferring to go round a hill rather
than to tunnel under it or carry his railway over it, and often making a
considerable circuit to secure good, workable gradients.  He studied to
lay out his lines so that long trains of minerals and merchandise, as
well as passengers, might be hauled along them at the least possible
expenditure of locomotive power.  He had long before ascertained, by
careful experiments at Killingworth, that the engine expends half of its
power in overcoming a rising gradient of 1 in 260, which is about 20 feet
in the mile; and that when the gradient is so steep as 1 in 100, not less
than three-fourths of its power is sacrificed in ascending the acclivity.
He never forgot the valuable practical lesson taught him by the early
trials which he had made and registered long before the advantages of
railways had been recognised.  He saw clearly that the longer flat line
must eventually prove superior to the shorter line of steep gradients as
respected its paying qualities.  He urged that, after all, the power of
the locomotive was but limited; and, although he and his son had done
more than any other men to increase its working capacity, it provoked him
to find that every improvement made in it was neutralised by the steep
gradients which the new school of engineers were setting it to overcome.
On one occasion, when Robert Stephenson stated before a Parliamentary
Committee that every successive improvement in the locomotive was being
rendered virtually nugatory by the difficult and almost impracticable
gradients proposed on many of the new lines, his father, on his leaving
the witness-box, went up to him, and said, "Robert, you never spoke truer
words than those in all your life."

To this it must be added, that in urging these views Mr. Stephenson was
strongly influenced by commercial considerations.  He had no desire to
build up his reputation at the expense of railway shareholders, nor to
obtain engineering _eclat_ by making "ducks and drakes" of their money.
He was persuaded that, in order to secure the practical success of
railways, they must be so laid out as not only to prove of decided public
utility, but also to be worked economically and to the advantage of their
proprietors.  They were not government roads, but private ventures--in
fact, commercial speculations.  He therefore endeavoured to render them
financially profitable; and he repeatedly declared that if he did not
believe they could be "made to pay," he would have nothing to do with
them.  He was not influenced by the sordid consideration of what he could
_make_ out of any company that employed him; indeed, in many cases he
voluntarily gave up his claim to remuneration where the promoters of
schemes which he thought praiseworthy had suffered serious loss.  Thus,
when the first application was made to Parliament for the Chester and
Birkenhead Railway Bill, the promoters were defeated.  They repeated
their application, on the understanding that in event of their
succeeding, the engineer and surveyor were to be paid their costs in
respect of the defeated measure.  The Bill was successful, and to several
parties their costs were paid.  Mr. Stephenson's amounted to 800 pounds,
and he very nobly said, "You have had an expensive career in Parliament;
you have had a great struggle; you are a young Company; you cannot afford
to pay me this amount of money.  I will reduce it to 200 pounds, and I
will not ask you for that 200 pounds until your shares are at 20 pounds
premium: for whatever may be the reverses you will go through, I am
satisfied I shall live to see the day when your shares will be at 20
pounds premium, and when I can legally and honourably claim that 200
pounds."  We may add that the shares did eventually rise to the premium
specified, and the engineer was no loser by his generous conduct in the
transaction.

Another novelty of the time, with which George Stephenson had to contend,
was the substitution of atmospheric pressure for locomotive steam-power
in the working of railways.  The idea of obtaining motion by means of
atmospheric pressure is said to have originated with Denis Papin, more
than 150 years ago; but it slept until revived in 1810 by Mr. Medhurst,
who published a pamphlet to prove the practicability of carrying letters
and goods by air.  In 1824, Mr. Vallance of Brighton took out a patent
for projecting passengers through a tube large enough to contain a train
of carriages; the tube being previously exhausted of its atmospheric air.
The same idea was afterwards taken up, in 1835, by Mr. Pinkus, an
ingenious American.  Scientific gentlemen, Dr. Lardner and Mr. Clegg
amongst others, advocated the plan; and an association was formed to
carry it into effect.  Shares were created, and 18,000 pounds raised: and
a model apparatus was exhibited in London.  Mr. Vignolles took his friend
Stephenson to see the model; and after carefully examining it, he
observed emphatically, "_It won't do_: it is only the fixed engines and
ropes over again, in another form; and, to tell you the truth, I don't
think this rope of wind will answer so well as the rope of wire did."  He
did not think the principle would stand the test of practice, and he
objected to the mode of applying the principle.  After all, it was only a
modification of the stationary-engine plan; and every day's experience
was proving that fixed engines could not compete with locomotives in
point of efficiency and economy.  He stood by the locomotive engine; and
subsequent experience proved that he was right.

Messrs. Clegg and Samuda afterwards, in 1840, patented their plan of an
atmospheric railway; and they publicly tested its working on an
unfinished portion of the West London Railway.  The results of the
experiment were so satisfactory, that the directors of the Dublin and
Kingstown line adopted it between Kingstown and Dalkey.  The London and
Croydon Company also adopted the atmospheric principle; and their line
was opened in 1845.  The ordinary mode of applying the power was to lay
between the line of rails a pipe, in which a large piston was inserted,
and attached by a shaft to the framework of a carriage.  The propelling
power was the ordinary pressure of the atmosphere acting against the
piston in the tube on one side, a vacuum being created in the tube on the
other side of the piston by the working of a stationary engine.  Great
was the popularity of the atmospheric system; and still George Stephenson
said "It won't do: it's but a gimcrack."  Engineers of distinction said
he was prejudiced, and that he looked upon the locomotive as a pet child
of his own.  "Wait a little," he replied, "and you will see that I am
right."  It was generally supposed that the locomotive system was about
to be snuffed out.  "Not so fast," said Stephenson.  "Let us wait to see
if it will pay."  He never believed it would.  It was ingenious, clever,
scientific, and all that; but railways were commercial enterprises, not
toys; and if the atmospheric railway could not work to a profit, it would
not do.  Considered in this light, he even went so far as to call it "a
great humbug."  "Nothing will beat the locomotive," said he, "for
efficiency in all weathers, for economy in drawing loads of average
weight, and for power and speed as occasion may require."

The atmospheric system was fairly and fully tried, and it was found
wanting.  It was admitted to be an exceedingly elegant mode of applying
power; its devices were very skilful, and its mechanism was most
ingenious.  But it was costly, irregular in action, and, in particular
kinds of weather, not to be depended upon.  At best, it was but a
modification of the stationary-engine system, and experience proved it to
be so expensive that it was shortly after entirely abandoned in favour of
locomotive power. {288}

One of the remarkable results of the system of railway locomotion which
George Stephenson had by his persevering labours mainly contributed to
establish, was the outbreak of the railway mania towards the close of his
professional career.  The success of the first main lines of railway
naturally led to their extension into many new districts; but a strongly
speculative tendency soon began to display itself, which contained in it
the elements of great danger.

The extension of railways had, up to the year 1844, been mainly effected
by men of the commercial classes, and the shareholders in them
principally belonged to the manufacturing districts,--the capitalists of
the metropolis as yet holding aloof, and prophesying disaster to all
concerned in railway projects.  But when the lugubrious anticipations of
the City men were found to be so entirely falsified by the results--when,
after the lapse of years, it was ascertained that railway traffic rapidly
increased and dividends steadily improved--a change came over the spirit
of the London capitalists.  They then invested largely in railways, the
shares in which became a leading branch of business on the Stock
Exchange, and the prices of some rose to nearly double their original
value.

A stimulus was thus given to the projection of further lines, the shares
in most of which came out at a premium, and became the subject of
immediate traffic.  A reckless spirit of gambling set in, which
completely changed the character and objects of railway enterprise.  The
public outside the Stock Exchange became also infected, and many persons
utterly ignorant of railways, knowing and caring nothing about their
national uses, but hungering and thirsting after premiums, rushed eagerly
into the vortex.  They applied for allotments, and subscribed for shares
in lines, of the engineering character or probable traffic of which they
knew nothing.  Provided they could but obtain allotments which they could
sell at a premium, and put the profit--in many cases the only capital
they possessed {289}--into their pocket, it was enough for them.  The
mania was not confined to the precincts of the Stock Exchange, but
infected all ranks.  It embraced merchants and manufacturers, gentry and
shopkeepers, clerks in public offices, and loungers at the clubs.  Noble
lords were pointed at as "stags;" there were even clergymen who were
characterised as "bulls;" and amiable ladies who had the reputation of
"bears," in the share markets.  The few quiet men who remained
uninfluenced by the speculation of the time were, in not a few cases,
even reproached for doing injustice to their families, in declining to
help themselves from the stores of wealth that were poured out on all
sides.

Folly and knavery were, for a time, completely in the ascendant.  The
sharpers of society were let loose, and jobbers and schemers became more
and more plentiful.  They threw out railway schemes as lures to catch the
unwary.  They fed the mania with a constant succession of new projects.
The railway papers became loaded with their advertisements.  The
post-office was scarcely able to distribute the multitude of prospectuses
and circulars which they issued.  For a time their popularity was
immense.  They rose like froth into the upper heights of society, and the
flunkey FitzPlushe, by virtue of his supposed wealth, sat amongst peers
and was idolised.  Then was the harvest-time of scheming lawyers,
parliamentary agents, engineers, surveyors, and traffic-takers, who were
ready to take up any railway scheme however desperate, and to prove any
amount of traffic even where none existed.  The traffic in the credulity
of their dupes was, however, the great fact that mainly concerned them,
and of the profitable character of which there could be no doubt.

Mr. Stephenson was anxiously entreated to lend his name to prospectuses
during the railway mania; but he invariably refused.  He held aloof from
the headlong folly of the hour, and endeavoured to check it, but in vain.
Had he been less scrupulous, and given his countenance to the numerous
projects about which he was consulted, he might, without any trouble,
have thus secured enormous gains; but he had no desire to accumulate a
fortune without labour and without honour.  He himself never speculated
in shares.  When he was satisfied as to the merits of any undertaking, he
subscribed for a certain amount of capital in it, and held on, neither
buying nor selling.  At a dinner of the Leeds and Bradford directors at
Ben Rydding in October, 1844, before the mania had reached its height, he
warned those present against the prevalent disposition towards railway
speculation.  It was, he said, like walking upon a piece of ice with
shallows and deeps; the shallows were frozen over, and they would carry,
but it required great caution to get over the deeps.  He was satisfied
that in the course of the next year many would step on to places not
strong enough to carry them, and would get into the deeps; they would be
taking shares, and afterwards be unable to pay the calls upon them.
Yorkshiremen were reckoned clever men, and his advice to them was, to
stick together and promote communication in their own neighbourhood,--not
to go abroad with their speculations.  If any had done so, he advised
them to get their money back as fast as they could, for if they did not
they would not get it at all.  He informed the company, at the same time,
of his earliest holding of railway shares; it was in the Stockton and
Darlington Railway, and the number he held was _three_--"a very large
capital for him to possess at the time."  But a Stockton friend was
anxious to possess a share, and he sold him _one_ at a premium of 33s.;
he supposed he had been about the first man in England to sell a railway
share at a premium.

During 1845, his son's offices in Great George-street, Westminster, were
crowded with persons of various conditions seeking interviews, presenting
very much the appearance of the levee of a minister of state.  The burly
figure of Mr. Hudson, the "Railway King," surrounded by an admiring group
of followers, was often to be seen there; and a still more interesting
person, in the estimation of many, was George Stephenson, dressed in
black, his coat of somewhat old-fashioned cut, with square pockets in the
tails.  He wore a white neckcloth, and a large bunch of seals was
suspended from his watch-ribbon.  Altogether, he presented an appearance
of health, intelligence, and good humour, that rejoiced one to look upon
in that sordid, selfish and eventually ruinous saturnalia of railway
speculation.

Powers were granted by Parliament, in 1843, to construct not less than
2883 miles of new railways in Britain, at an expenditure of about
forty-four millions sterling!  Yet the mania was not appeased; for in the
following session of 1846, applications were made to Parliament for
powers to raise 389,000,000 pounds sterling for the construction of
further lines; and powers were actually conceded for forming 4790 miles
(including 60 miles of tunnels), at a cost of about 120,000,000 pounds
sterling.  During this session, Mr. Stephenson appeared as engineer for
only one new line,--the Buxton, Macclesfield, Congleton, and Crewe
Railway--a line in which, as a coal-owner, he was personally
interested;--and of three branch-lines in connexion with existing
companies for which he had long acted as engineer.  At the same time, all
the leading professional men were fully occupied, some of them appearing
as consulting engineers for upwards of thirty lines each!

One of the features of the mania was the rage for "direct lines" which
everywhere displayed itself.  There were "Direct Manchester," "Direct
Exeter," "Direct York," and, indeed, new direct lines between most of the
large towns.  The Marquis of Bristol, speaking in favour of the "Direct
Norwich and London" project, at a public meeting at Haverhill, said, "If
necessary, they might _make a tunnel beneath his very drawing-room_,
rather than be defeated in their undertaking!"  And the Rev. F.
Litchfield, at a meeting in Banbury, on the subject of a line to that
town, said "He had laid down for himself a limit to his approbation of
railways,--at least of such as approached the neighbourhood with which he
was connected,--and that limit was, that he did not wish them to approach
any nearer to him than _to run through his bedroom_, _with the bedposts
for a station_!"  How different was the spirit which influenced these
noble lords and gentlemen but a few years before!

The House of Commons became thoroughly influenced by the prevailing
excitement.  Even the Board of Trade began to favour the views of the
fast school of engineers.  In their "Report on the Lines projected in the
Manchester and Leeds District," they promulgated some remarkable views
respecting gradients, declaring themselves in favour of the "undulating
system."  They there stated that lines of an undulating character "which
have gradients of 1 in 70 or in 80 distributed over them in short
lengths, may be positively _better_ lines, _i.e._, _more susceptible of
cheap and expeditious working_, than others which have nothing steeper
than 1 in 100 or 1 in 120!"  They concluded by reporting in favour of the
line which exhibited the worst gradients and the sharpest curves, chiefly
on the ground that it could be constructed for less money.

Sir Robert Peel took occasion to advert to this Report in the House of
Commons on the 4th of March following, as containing "a novel and highly
important view on the subject of gradients, which, he was certain, never
could have been taken by any Committee of the House of Commons, however
intelligent;" and he might have added, that the more intelligent, the
less likely they were to arrive at any such conclusion.  When Mr.
Stephenson saw this report of the Premier's speech in the newspapers of
the following morning, he went forthwith to his son, and asked him to
write a letter to Sir Robert Peel on the subject.  He saw clearly that if
these views were adopted, the utility and economy of railways would be
seriously curtailed.  "These members of Parliament," said he, "are now as
much disposed to exaggerate the powers of the locomotive, as they were to
under-estimate them but a few years ago."  Robert accordingly wrote a
letter for his father's signature, embodying the views which he so
strongly entertained as to the importance of flat gradients, and
referring to the experiments conducted by him many years before, in proof
of the great loss of working power which was incurred on a line of steep
as compared with easy gradients.  It was clear, from the tone of Sir
Robert Peel's speech in a subsequent debate, that he had carefully read
and considered Mr. Stephenson's practical observations on the subject;
though it did not appear that he had come to any definite conclusion
thereon, further than that he strongly approved of the Trent Valley
Railway, by which Tamworth would be placed upon a direct main line of
communication.

The result of the labours of Parliament was a tissue of legislative
bungling, involving enormous loss to the public.  Railway Bills were
granted in heaps.  Two hundred and seventy-two additional Acts were
passed in 1846.  Some authorised the construction of lines running almost
parallel to existing railways, in order to afford the public "the
benefits of unrestricted competition."  Locomotive and atmospheric lines,
broad-gauge and narrow-gauge lines, were granted without hesitation.
Committees decided without judgment and without discrimination; it was a
scramble for Bills, in which the most unscrupulous were the most
successful.