The Dublin Chamber of Commerce passed resolutions in favour of
Stephenson's line, after hearing his explanation of its essential
features.  The project, after undergoing much discussion, was at length
embodied in an Act passed in 1844; and the work was brought to a
successful completion by his son, with several important modifications,
including the grand original feature of the tubular bridges across the
Menai Straits and the estuary of the Conway.  Excepting these great
works, the construction of this line presented no unusual features;
though the remarkable terrace cut for the accommodation of the railway
under the steep slope of Penmaen Mawr is worthy of a passing notice.

About midway between Conway and Bangor, Penmaen Mawr forms a bold and
almost precipitous headland, at the base of which, in rough weather, the
ocean dashes with great fury.  There was not space enough between the
mountain and the strand for the passage of the railway; hence in some
places the rock had to be blasted to form a terrace, and in others
sea-walls had to be built up to the proper level, on which to form an
embankment of sufficient width to enable the road to be laid.  [Picture:
Penmaen Mawr.  (By Percival Skelton.)]  A tunnel 10.5 chains in length was
cut through the headland itself; and on its east and west sides the line
was formed by a terrace cut out of the cliff, and by embankments
protected by sea walls; the terrace being three times interrupted by
embankments in its course of about 1.25 mile.  The road lies so close
under the steep mountain face, that it was even found necessary at
certain places to protect it against possible accidents from falling
stones, by means of a covered way.  The terrace on the east side of the
headland was, however, in some measure protected against the roll of the
sea by the mass of stone run out from the tunnel, and forming a deep
shingle bank in front of the wall.

The part of the work which lies on the westward of the headland
penetrated by the tunnel, was exposed to the full force of the sea; and
the formation of the road at that point was attended with great
difficulty.  While the sea wall was still in progress, its strength was
severely tried by a strong north-westerly gale, which blew in October,
1846, with a spring tide of 17 feet.  On the following morning it was
found that a large portion of the rubble was irreparably injured, and 200
yards of the wall were then replaced by an open viaduct, with the piers
placed edgeways to the sea, the openings between them being spanned by
ten cast-iron girders each 42 feet long.  This accident induced the
engineer to alter the contour of the sea wall, so that it should present
a diminished resistance to the force of the waves.  But the sea repeated
its assaults, and made further havoc with the work; entailing heavy
expenses and a complete reorganisation of the contract.  Increased
solidity was then given to the masonry, and the face of the wall
underwent further change.  At some points outworks were constructed, and
piles were driven into the beach about 15 feet from the base of the wall,
for the purpose of protecting its foundations and breaking the force of
the waves.  The work was at length finished after about three years'
anxious labour; but Mr. Stephenson confessed that if a long tunnel had
been made in the first instance through the solid rock of Penmaen Mawr, a
saving of from 25,000 to 30,000 pounds would have been effected.  He also
said he had arrived at the conclusion that in railway works engineers
should endeavour as far as possible to avoid the necessity of contending
with the sea; {324} but if he were ever again compelled to go within its
reach, he would adopt, instead of retaining walls, an open viaduct,
placing all the piers edgeways to the force of the sea, and allowing the
waves to break upon a natural slope of beach.  He was ready enough to
admit the errors he had committed in the original design of this work;
but he said he had always gained more information from studying the
causes of failures and endeavouring to surmount them than he had done
from easily-won successes.  Whilst many of the latter had been forgotten,
the former were indelibly fixed in his memory.

But by far the greatest difficulty which Robert Stephenson had to
encounter in executing this railway, was in carrying it across the
Straits of Menai and the estuary of the Conway, where, like his
predecessor Telford when forming his high road through North Wales, he
was under the necessity of resorting to new and altogether untried
methods of bridge construction.  At Menai the waters of the Irish Sea are
perpetually vibrating along the precipitous shores of the strait; rising
and falling from 20 to 25 feet at each successive tide; the width and
depth of the channel being such as to render it available for navigation
by the largest ships.  The problem was, to throw a bridge across this
wide chasm--a bridge of unusual span and dimensions--of such strength as
to be capable of bearing the heaviest loads at high speeds, and at such a
uniform height throughout as not in any way to interfere with the
navigation of the Strait.  From an early period, Mr. Stephenson had fixed
upon the spot where the Britannia Rock occurs, nearly in the middle of
the channel, as the most eligible point for crossing; the water-width
from shore to shore at high water there being about 1100 feet.  His first
idea was to construct the bridge of two cast-iron arches, each of 350
feet span.  There was no novelty in this idea; for, as early as the year
1801, Mr. Rennie prepared a design of a cast-iron bridge across the
Strait at the Swilly rocks, the great centre arch of which was to be 450
feet span; and at a later period, in 1810, Telford submitted a design of
a similar bridge at Inys-y-Moch, with a single cast-iron arch of 500
feet.  But the same objections which led to the rejection of Rennie's and
Telford's designs, proved fatal to Robert Stephenson's, and his
iron-arched railway bridge was rejected by the Admiralty.  The navigation
of the Strait was under no circumstances to be interfered with; and even
the erection of scaffolding from below, to support the bridge during
construction, was not to be permitted.  The idea of a suspension bridge
was dismissed as inapplicable; a degree of rigidity and strength, greater
than could be secured by any bridge constructed on the principle of
suspension, being considered an indispensable condition of the proposed
structure.

                       [Picture: Britannia Bridge]

Various other plans were suggested; but the whole question remained
unsettled even down to the time when the Company went before Parliament,
in 1844, for power to construct the proposed bridges.  No existing kind
of structure seemed to be capable of bearing the fearful extension to
which rigid bridges of the necessary spans would be subjected; and some
new expedient of engineering therefore became necessary.

Mr. Stephenson was then led to reconsider a design which he had made in
1841 for a road bridge over the river Lea at Ware, with a span of 50
feet,--the conditions only admitting of a platform 18 or 20 inches thick.
For this purpose a wrought-iron platform was designed, consisting of a
series of simple cells, formed of boiler-plates riveted together with
angle-iron.  The bridge was not, however, carried out after this design,
but was made of separate wrought-iron girders composed of riveted plates.
Recurring to his first idea of this bridge, Mr. Stephenson thought that a
stiff platform might be constructed, with sides of strongly trussed
frame-work of wrought-iron, braced together at top and bottom with plates
of like material riveted together with angle-iron; and that such platform
might be suspended by strong chains on either side to give it increased
security.  "It was now," says Mr. Stephenson, "that I came to regard the
tubular platform as a beam, and that the chains should be looked upon as
auxiliaries."  It appeared, nevertheless, that without a system of
diagonal struts inside, which of course would have prevented the passage
of trains _through_ it, this kind of structure was ill-suited for
maintaining its form, and would be very liable to become lozenge-shaped.
Besides, the rectangular figure was deemed objectionable, from the large
surface which it presented to the wind.

It then occurred to him that circular or elliptical tubes might better
answer the intended purpose; and in March, 1845, he gave instructions to
two of his assistants to prepare drawings of such a structure, the tubes
being made with a double thickness of plate at top and bottom.  The
results of the calculations made as to the strength of such a tube, were
considered so satisfactory, that Mr. Stephenson says he determined to
fall back on a bridge of this description, on the rejection of his design
of the two cast-iron arches by the Parliamentary Committee.  Indeed, it
became evident that a tubular wrought-iron beam was the only structure
which combined the necessary strength and stability for a railway, with
the conditions deemed essential for the protection of the navigation.  "I
stood," says Mr. Stephenson, "on the verge of a responsibility from
which, I confess, I had nearly shrunk.  The construction of a tubular
beam of such gigantic dimensions, on a platform elevated and supported by
chains at such a height, did at first present itself as a difficulty of a
very formidable nature.  Reflection, however, satisfied me that the
principles upon which the idea was founded were nothing more than an
extension of those daily in use in the profession of the engineer.  The
method, moreover, of calculating the strength of the structure which I
had adopted, was of the simplest and most elementary character; and
whatever might be the form of the tube, the principle on which the
calculations were founded was equally applicable, and could not fail to
lead to equally accurate results." {327}  Mr. Stephenson accordingly
announced to the directors of the railway that he was prepared to carry
out a bridge of this general description, and they adopted his views,
though not without considerable misgivings.

While the engineer's mind was still occupied with the subject, an
accident occurred to the _Prince of Wales_ iron steamship, at Blackwall,
which singularly corroborated his views as to the strength of
wrought-iron beams of large dimensions.  When this vessel was being
launched, the cleet on the bow gave way, in consequence of the bolts
breaking, and let the vessel down so that the bilge came in contact with
the wharf, and she remained suspended between the water and the wharf for
a length of about 110 feet, but without any injury to the plates of the
ship; satisfactorily proving the great strength of this form of
construction.  Thus, Mr. Stephenson became gradually confirmed in his
opinion that the most feasible method of bridging the strait at Menai and
the river at Conway was by means of a hollow beam of wrought-iron.  As
the time was approaching for giving evidence before Parliament on the
subject, it was necessary for him to settle some definite plan for
submission to the committee.  "My late revered father," says he, "having
always taken a deep interest in the various proposals which had been
considered for carrying a railway across the Menai Straits, requested me
to explain fully to him the views which led me to suggest the use of a
tube, and also the nature of the calculations I had made in reference to
it.  It was during this personal conference that Mr. William Fairbairn
accidentally called upon me, to whom I also explained the principles of
the structure I had proposed.  He at once acquiesced in their truth, and
expressed confidence in the feasibility of my project, giving me at the
same time some facts relative to the remarkable strength of iron
steamships, and invited me to his works at Millwall, to examine the
construction of an iron steamship which was then in progress."  The date
of this consultation was early in April, 1845, and Mr. Fairbairn states
that, on that occasion, "Mr. Stephenson asked whether such a design was
practicable, and whether I could accomplish it: and it was ultimately
arranged that the subject should be investigated experimentally, to
determine not only the value of Mr. Stephenson's original conception (of
a circular or egg-shaped wrought-iron tube, supported by chains), but
that of any other tubular form of bridge which might present itself in
the prosecution of my researches.  The matter was placed unreservedly in
my hands; the entire conduct of the investigation was entrusted to me;
and, as an experimenter, I was to be left free to exercise my own
discretion in the investigation of whatever forms or conditions of the
structure might appear to me best calculated to secure a safe passage
across the Straits." {329a}  Mr. Fairbairn then proceeded to construct a
number of experimental models for the purpose of testing the strength of
tubes of different forms.  The short period which elapsed, however,
before the bill was in committee, did not admit of much progress being
made with those experiments; but from the evidence in chief given by Mr.
Stephenson on the subject, on the 5th May following, it appears that the
idea which prevailed in his mind was that of a bridge with openings of
450 feet (afterwards increased to 460 feet); with a roadway formed of a
hollow wrought-iron beam, about 25 feet in diameter, presenting a rigid
platform, suspended by chains.  At the same time, he expressed the
confident opinion that a tube of wrought iron would possess sufficient
strength and rigidity to support a railway train running inside of it
without the help of the chains.

While the bill was still in progress, Mr. Fairbairn proceeded with his
experiments.  He first tested tubes of a cylindrical form, in consequence
of the favourable opinion entertained by Mr. Stephenson of the tubes in
that shape, extending them subsequently to those of an elliptical form.
{329b}  He found tubes thus shaped more or less defective, and proceeded
to test those of a rectangular kind.  After the bill had received the
royal assent on the 30th June, 1845, the directors of the company, with
great liberality, voted a sum for the purpose of enabling the experiments
to be prosecuted, and upwards of 6000 pounds were thus expended to make
the assurance of their engineer doubly sure.  Mr. Fairbairn's tests were
of the most elaborate and eventually conclusive character, bringing to
light many new and important facts of great practical value.  The due
proportions and thicknesses of the top, bottom, and sides of the tubes
were arrived at after a vast number of trials; one of the results of the
experiments being the adoption of Mr. Fairbairn's invention of
rectangular hollow cells in the top of the beam for the purpose of giving
it the requisite degree of strength.  About the end of August it was
thought desirable to obtain the assistance of a mathematician, who should
prepare a formula by which the strength of a full-sized tube might be
calculated from the results of the experiments made with tubes of smaller
dimensions.  Professor Hodgkinson was accordingly called in, and he
proceeded to verify and confirm the experiments which Mr. Fairbairn had
made, and afterwards reduced them to the required formula.

Mr. Stephenson's time was so much engrossed with his extensive
engineering business that he was in a great measure precluded from
devoting himself to the consideration of the practical details.  The
results of the experiments were communicated to him from time to time,
and were regarded by him as exceedingly satisfactory.  It would appear,
however, that while Mr. Fairbairn urged the rigidity and strength of the
tubes without the aid of chains, Mr. Stephenson had not quite made up his
mind upon the point.  Mr. Hodgkinson, also, was strongly inclined to
retain them.  Mr. Fairbairn held that it was quite practicable to make
the tubes "sufficiently strong to sustain not only their own weight, but,
in addition to that load, 2000 tons equally distributed over the surface
of the platform,--a load ten times greater than they will ever be called
upon to support."

It was thoroughly characteristic of Mr. Stephenson, and of the caution
with which he proceeded in every step of this great undertaking--probing
every inch of the ground before he set down his foot upon it--that he
should, early in 1856, (_sic_) have appointed his able assistant, Mr.
Edwin Clark, to scrutinise carefully the results of every experiment, and
subject them to a separate and independent analysis before finally
deciding upon the form or dimensions of the structure, or upon any mode
of procedure connected with it.  At length Mr. Stephenson became
satisfied that the use of auxiliary chains was unnecessary, and that the
tubular bridge might be made of such strength as to be entirely
self-supporting.

While these important discussions were in progress, measures were taken
to proceed with the masonry of the bridges simultaneously at Conway and
the Menai Straits.  The foundation-stone of the Britannia Bridge was laid
on the 10th April, 1846; and on the 12th May following that of the Conway
Bridge was laid.  Suitable platforms and workshops were also erected for
proceeding with the punching, fitting, and riveting of the tubes; and
when these operations were in full progress, the neighbourhood of the
Conway and Britannia Bridges presented scenes of extraordinary bustle and
industry.  About 1500 men were employed on the Britannia Bridge alone,
and they mostly lived upon the ground in wooden cottages erected for the
occasion.  The iron plates were brought in ship-loads from Liverpool,
Anglesey marble from Penmon, and red sandstone from Runcorn, in Cheshire,
as wind and tide, and shipping and convenience, might determine.  There
was an unremitting clank of hammers, grinding of machinery, and blasting
of rock, going on from morning till night.  In fitting the Britannia
tubes together, not less than 2,000,000 of bolts were riveted, weighing
some 900 tons.

The Britannia Bridge consists of two independent continuous tubular
beams, each 1511 feet in length, and each weighing 4680 tons, independent
of the cast-iron frames inserted at their bearings on the masonry of the
towers.  These immense beams are supported at five places, namely, on the
abutments and on three towers, the central of which is known as the Great
Britannia Tower, 230 feet high, built on a rock in the middle of the
Strait.  The side towers are 18 feet less in height than the central one,
and the abutment 35 feet lower than the side towers.  The design of the
masonry is such as to accord with the form of the tubes, being somewhat
of an Egyptian character, massive and gigantic rather than beautiful, but
bearing the unmistakable impress of power.

The bridge has four spans,--two of 460 feet over the water, and two of
230 feet over the land.  The weight of the larger spans, at the points
where the tubes repose on the masonry, is not less than 1587 tons.  On
the centre tower the tubes rest solid; but on the land towers and
abutments they lie on roller-beds, so as to allow of expansion and
contraction.  The road within each tube is 15 feet wide, and the height
varies from 23 feet at the ends to 30 feet at the centre.  To give an
idea of the vast size of the tubes by comparison with other structures,
it may be mentioned that each length constituting the main spans is twice
as long as London Monument is high; and if it could be set on end in St.
Paul's Churchyard, it would reach nearly 100 feet above the cross.

The Conway Bridge is, in most respects, similar to the Britannia,
consisting of two tubes, of 400 feet span, placed side by side, each
weighing 1180 tons.  The principle adopted in the construction of the
tubes, and the mode of floating and raising them, were nearly the same as
at the Britannia Bridge, though the general arrangement of the plates is
in many respects different.

It was determined to construct the shorter outer tubes of the Britannia
Bridge on scaffoldings in the positions in which they were permanently to
remain, and to erect the larger tubes upon wooden platforms at
high-water-mark on the Caernarvon shore, from whence they were to be
floated in pontoons.

The floating of the tubes on pontoons, from the places where they had
been constructed, to the recesses in the masonry of the towers, up which
they were to be hoisted to the positions they were permanently to occupy,
was an anxious and exciting operation.  The first part of this process
was performed at Conway, where Mr. Stephenson directed it in person,
assisted by Captain Claxton, Mr. Brunel, and other engineering friends.
On the 6th March, 1848, the pontoons bearing the first great tube of the
up-line were floated round quietly and majestically into their place
between the towers in about twenty minutes.  Unfortunately, one of the
sets of pontoons had become slightly slued by the stream, by which the
Conway end of the tube was prevented from being brought home; and five
anxious days to all concerned intervened before it could be set in its
place.  In the mean time, the presses and raising machinery had been
fitted in the towers above, and the lifting process was begun on the 8th
April, when the immense mass was raised 8 feet, at the rate of about 2
inches a minute.  On the 16th, the tube had been raised and finally
lowered into its permanent bed; the rails were laid along it; and, on the
18th, Mr. Stephenson passed through with the first locomotive.  The
second tube was proceeded with on the removal of the first from the
platform, and was completed and floated in seven months.  The rapidity
with which this second tube was constructed was in no small degree owing
to the Jacquard punching-machine, contrived for the purpose by Mr.
Roberts of Manchester.  This tube was finally fixed in its permanent bed
on the 2nd of January, 1849.

                     [Picture: Conway Tubular Bridge]

The floating and fixing of the great Britannia tubes was a still more
formidable enterprise, though the experience gained at Conway rendered it
easy compared with what it otherwise would have been.  Mr. Stephenson
superintended the operation of floating the first in person, giving the
arranged signals from the top of the tube on which he was mounted, the
active part of the business being performed by a numerous corps of
sailors, under the immediate direction of Captain Claxton.  Thousands of
spectators lined the shores of the Strait on the evening of the 19th
June, 1849.  On the land attachments being cut, the pontoons began to
float off; but one of the capstans having given way from excessive
strain, the tube was brought home again for the night.  By next morning
the defective capstan was restored, and all was in readiness for another
trial.  At half-past seven in the evening the tube was afloat, and the
pontoons swung out into the current like a monster pendulum, held steady
by the shore guide-lines, but increasing in speed to almost a fearful
extent as they neared their destined place between the piers.  "The
success of this operation," says Mr. Clark, "depended mainly on properly
striking the 'butt' beneath the Anglesey tower, on which, as upon a
centre, the tube was to be veered round into its position across the
opening.  This position was determined by a 12-inch line, which was to be
paid out to a fixed mark from the Llanfair capstan.  The coils of the
rope unfortunately over-rode each other upon this capstan, so that it
could not be paid out.  In resisting the motion of the tube, the capstan
was bodily dragged out of the platform by the action of the palls, and
the tube was in imminent danger of being carried away by the stream, or
the pontoons crushed upon the rocks.  The men at the capstan were all
knocked down, and some of them thrown into the water, though they made
every exertion to arrest the motion of the capstan-bars.  In this dilemma
Mr. Rolfe, who had charge of the capstan, with great presence of mind,
called the visitors on shore to his assistance; and handing out the spare
coil of the 12-inch line into the field at the back of the capstan, it
was carried with great rapidity up the field, and a crowd of people, men,
women, and children, holding on to this huge cable, arresting the
progress of the tube, which was at length brought safely against the butt
and veered round.  The Britannia end was then drawn into the recess of
the masonry by a chain passing through the tower to a crab on the far
side.  The violence of the tide abated, though the wind increased, and
the Anglesey end was drawn into its place beneath the corbelling in the
masonry; and as the tide went down, the pontoons deposited their valuable
cargo on the welcome shelf at each end.  The successful issue was greeted
by cannon from the shore and the hearty cheers of many thousands of
spectators, whose sympathy and anxiety were but too clearly indicated by
the unbroken silence with which the whole operation had been
accompanied." {335}  By midnight all the pontoons had been got clear of
the tube, which now hung suspended over the waters of the Strait by its
two ends, which rested upon the edges cut in the rock for the purpose at
the base of the Britannia and Anglesey towers respectively, up which the
tube had now to be lifted by hydraulic power to its permanent place near
the summit.  The accuracy with which the gigantic beam had been
constructed may be inferred from the fact that, after passing into its
place, a clear space remained between the iron plating and the rock
outside of it of only about three-quarters of an inch!

Mr. Stephenson's anxiety was, of course, very great up to the time of
performing this trying operation.  When he had got the first tube floated
at Conway, and saw all safe, he said to Captain Moorsom, "Now I shall go
to bed."  But the Britannia Bridge was a still more difficult enterprise,
and cost him many a sleepless night.  Afterwards describing his feelings
to his friend Mr. Gooch, he said: "It was a most anxious and harassing
time with me.  Often at night I would lie tossing about, seeking sleep in
vain.  The tubes filled my head.  I went to bed with them and got up with
them.  In the grey of the morning, when I looked across the Square, {336}
it seemed an immense distance across to the houses on the opposite side.
It was nearly the same length as the span of my tubular bridge!"  When
the first tube had been floated, a friend observed to him, "This great
work has made you ten years older."  "I have not slept sound," he
replied, "for three weeks."  Sir F. Head, however relates, that when he
revisited the spot on the following morning, he observed, sitting on a
platform overlooking the suspended tube, a gentleman, reclining entirely
by himself, smoking a cigar, and gazing, as if indolently, at the aerial
gallery beneath him.  It was the engineer himself, contemplating his new
born child.  He had strolled down from the neighbouring village, after
his first sound and refreshing sleep for weeks, to behold in sunshine and
solitude, that which during a weary period of gestation had been either
mysteriously moving in his brain, or, like a vision--sometimes of good
omen, and sometimes of evil--had, by night as well as by day, been
flitting across his mind.

The next process was the lifting of the tube into its place, which was
performed very deliberately and cautiously.  It was raised by powerful
hydraulic presses, only a few feet at a time, and carefully under-built,
before being raised to a farther height.  When it had been got up by
successive stages of this kind to about 24 feet, an extraordinary
accident occurred, during Mr. Stephenson's absence in London, which he
afterwards described to the author in as nearly as possible the following
words:--"In a work of such novelty and magnitude, you may readily imagine
how anxious I was that every possible contingency should be provided for.
Where one chain or rope was required, I provided two.  I was not
satisfied with 'enough:' I must have absolute security, as far as that
was possible.  I knew the consequences of failure would be most
disastrous to the Company, and that the wisest economy was to provide for
all contingencies at whatever cost.  When the first tube at the Britannia
had been successfully floated between the piers, ready for being raised,
my young engineers were very much elated; and when the hoisting apparatus
had been fixed, they wrote to me saying,--'We are now all ready for
raising her: we could do it in a day, or in two at the most.  But my
reply was, 'No: you must only raise the tube inch by inch, and you must
build up under it as you rise.  Every inch must be made good.  Nothing
must be left to chance or good luck.'  And fortunate it was that I
insisted upon this cautious course being pursued; for, one day, while the
hydraulic presses were at work, the bottom of one of them burst clean
away!  The crosshead and the chains, weighing more than 50 tons,
descended with a fearful crash upon the press, and the tube itself fell
down upon the packing beneath.  Though the fall of the tube was not more
than nine inches, it crushed solid castings, weighing tons, as if they
had been nuts.  The tube itself was slightly strained and deflected,
though it still remained sufficiently serviceable.  But it was a
tremendous test to which it was put, for a weight of upwards of 5000 tons
falling even a few inches must be admitted to be a very serious matter.
That it stood so well was extraordinary.  Clark immediately wrote me an
account of the circumstance, in which he said, 'Thank God, you have been
so obstinate.  For if this accident had occurred without a bed for the
end of the tube to fall on, the whole would now have been lying across
the bottom of the Straits.'  Five thousand pounds extra expense was
caused by this accident, slight though it might seem.  But careful
provision was made against future failure; a new and improved cylinder
was provided: and the work was very soon advancing satisfactorily towards
completion."

When the Queen first visited the Britannia Bridge, on her return from the
North in 1852, Robert Stephenson accompanied Her Majesty and Prince
Albert over the works, explaining the principles on which the bridge had
been built, and the difficulties which had attended its erection.  He
conducted the Royal party to near the margin of the sea, and, after
describing to them the incident of the fall of the tube, and the reason
of its preservation, he pointed with pardonable pride to a pile of stones
which the workmen had there raised to commemorate the event.  While
nearly all the other marks of the work during its progress had been
obliterated, that cairn had been left standing in commemoration of the
caution and foresight of their chief.

The floating and raising of the remaining tubes need not be described in
detail.  The second was floated on the 3rd December, and set in its
permanent place on the 7th January, 1850.  The others were floated and
raised in due course.  On the 5th March, Mr. Stephenson put the last
rivet in the last tube, and passed through the completed bridge,
accompanied by about a thousand persons, drawn by three locomotives.  The
bridge was opened for public traffic on the 18th March.  The cost of the
whole work was 234,450 pounds.

         [Picture: The Britannia Bridge.  (By Percival Skelton)]

The Britannia Bridge is one of the most remarkable monuments of the
enterprise and skill of the present century.  Robert Stephenson was the
master spirit of the undertaking.  To him belongs the merit of first
seizing the ideal conception of the structure best adapted to meet the
necessities of the case; and of selecting the best men to work out his
idea, himself watching, controlling, and testing every result, by
independent check and counter-check.  And finally, he organised and
directed, through his assistants, the vast band of skilled workmen and
labourers who were for so many years occupied in carrying his magnificent
original conception to a successful practical issue.  As he himself said
of the work,--"The true and accurate calculation of all the conditions
and elements essential to the safety of the bridge had been a source not
only of mental but of bodily toil; including, as it did, a combination of
abstract thought and well-considered experiment adequate to the magnitude
of the project."

The Britannia Bridge was the result of a vast combination of skill and
industry.  But for the perfection of our tools and the ability of our
mechanics to use them to the greatest advantage; but for the matured
powers of the steam-engine; but for the improvements in the iron
manufacture, which enabled blooms to be puddled of sizes before deemed
impracticable, and plates and bars of immense size to be rolled and
forged; but for these, the Britannia Bridge would have been designed in
vain.  Thus, it was not the product of the genius of the railway engineer
alone, but of the collective mechanical genius of the English nation.

            [Picture: Conway Bridge.--Floating the First Tube]

                    [Picture: View in Tapton Gardens]




CHAPTER XVIII.
GEORGE STEPHENSON'S CLOSING YEARS--ILLNESS AND DEATH.


In describing the completion of the series of great works detailed in the
preceding chapter, we have somewhat anticipated the closing years of
George Stephenson's life.  He could not fail to take an anxious interest
in the success of his son's designs, and he accordingly paid many visits
to Conway and to Menai, during the progress of the works.  He was present
on the occasion of the floating and raising of the first Conway tube, and
there witnessed a clear proof of the soundness of Robert's judgment as to
the efficiency and strength of the tubular bridge, of which he had at
first expressed some doubts; but before the like test could be applied at
the Britannia Bridge, George Stephenson's mortal anxieties were at an
end, for he had then ceased from all his labours.

Towards the close of his life, George Stephenson almost entirely withdrew
from the active pursuit of his profession; he devoted himself chiefly to
his extensive collieries and lime-works, taking a local interest only in
such projected railways as were calculated to open up new markets for
their products.

At home he lived the life of a country gentleman, enjoying his garden and
grounds, and indulging his love of nature, which, through all his busy
life, had never left him.  It was not until the year 1845 that he took an
active interest in horticultural pursuits.  Then he began to build new
melon-houses, pineries, and vineries, of great extent; and he now seemed
as eager to excel all other growers of exotic plants in his
neighbourhood, as he had been to surpass the villagers of Killingworth in
the production of gigantic cabbages and cauliflowers some thirty years
before.  He had a pine-house built 68 feet in length and a pinery 140
feet.  Workmen were constantly employed in enlarging them, until at
length he had no fewer than ten glass forcing-houses, heated with hot
water, which he was one of the first in that neighbourhood to make use of
for such a purpose.  He did not take so much pleasure in flowers as in
fruits.  At one of the county agricultural meetings, he said that he
intended yet to grow pineapples at Tapton as big as pumpkins.  The only
man to whom he would "knock under" was his friend Paxton, the gardener to
the Duke of Devonshire; and he was so old in the service, and so skilful,
that he could scarcely hope to beat him.  Yet his "Queen" pines did take
the first prize at a competition with the Duke,--though this was not
until shortly after his death, when the plants had become more fully
grown.  His grapes also took the first prize at Rotherham, at a
competition open to all England.  He was extremely successful in
producing melons, having invented a method of suspending them in baskets
of wire gauze, which, by relieving the stalk from tension, allowed
nutrition to proceed more freely, and better enabled the fruit to grow
and ripen.

He took much pride also in his growth of cucumbers.  He raised them very
fine and large, but he could not make them grow straight.  Place them as
he would, notwithstanding all his propping of them, and humouring them by
modifying the application of heat and the admission of light for the
purpose of effecting his object, they would still insist on growing
crooked in their own way.  At last he had a number of glass cylinders
made at Newcastle, for the purpose of an experiment; into these the
growing cucumbers were inserted, and then he succeeded in growing them
perfectly straight.  Carrying one of the new products into his house one
day, and exhibiting it to a party of visitors, he told them of the
expedient he had adopted, and added gleefully, "I think I have bothered
them noo!"

Mr. Stephenson also carried on farming operations with some success.  He
experimented on manure, and fed cattle after methods of his own.  He was
very particular as to breed and build in stock-breeding.  "You see, sir,"
he said to one gentleman, "I like to see the _coo's_ back at a gradient
something like this" (drawing an imaginary line with his hand), "and then
the ribs or girders will carry more flesh than if they were so--or so."
When he attended the county agricultural meetings, which he frequently
did, he was accustomed to take part in the discussions, and he brought
the same vigorous practical mind to bear upon questions of tillage,
drainage, and farm economy, which he had been accustomed to exercise on
mechanical and engineering matters.

All his early affection for birds and animals revived.  He had favourite
dogs, and cows, and horses; and again he began to keep rabbits, and to
pride himself on the beauty of his breed.  There was not a bird's nest
upon the grounds that he did not know of; and from day to day he went
round watching the progress which the birds made with their building,
carefully guarding them from injury.  No one was more minutely acquainted
with the habits of British birds, the result of a long, loving, and close
observation of nature.

At Tapton he remembered the failure of his early experiment in hatching
birds' eggs by heat, and he now performed it successfully, being able to
secure a proper apparatus for maintaining a uniform temperature.  He was
also curious about the breeding and fattening of fowls; and when his
friend Edward Pease of Darlington visited him at Tapton, he explained a
method which he had invented for fattening chickens in half the usual
time.

Mrs. Stephenson tried to keep bees, but found they would not thrive at
Tapton.  Many hives perished, and there was no case of success.  The
cause of failure was a puzzle to the engineer; but one day his acute
powers of observation enabled him to unravel it.  At the foot of the hill
on which Tapton House stands, he saw some bees trying to rise up from
amongst the grass, laden with honey and wax.  They were already
exhausted, as if with long flying; and then it occurred to him that the
height at which the house stood above the bees' feeding-ground rendered
it difficult for them to reach their hives when heavy laden, and hence
they sank exhausted.  He afterwards incidentally mentioned the
circumstance to Mr. Jesse the naturalist, who concurred in his view as to
the cause of failure, and was much struck by the keen observation which
had led to its solution.

Mr. Stephenson had none of the in-door habits of the student.  He read
very little; for reading is a habit which is generally acquired in youth;
and his youth and manhood had been for the most part spent in hard work.
Books wearied him, and sent him to sleep.  Novels excited his feelings
too much, and he avoided them, though he would occasionally read through
a philosophical book on a subject in which he felt particularly
interested.  He wrote very few letters with his own hand; nearly all his
letters were dictated, and he avoided even dictation when he could.  His
greatest pleasure was in conversation, from which he gathered most of his
imparted information.

It was his practice, when about to set out on a journey by railway, to
walk along the train before it started, and look into the carriages to
see if he could find "a conversable face."  On one of these occasions, at
the Euston Station, he discovered in a carriage a very handsome, manly,
and intelligent face, which he afterwards found was that of the late Lord
Denman.  He was on his way down to his seat at Stony Middleton, in
Derbyshire.  Mr. Stephenson entered the carriage, and the two were
shortly engaged in interesting conversation.  It turned upon chronometry
and horology, and the engineer amazed his lordship by the extent of his
knowledge on the subject, in which he displayed as much minute
information, even down to the latest improvements in watchmaking, as if
he had been bred a watchmaker and lived by the trade.  Lord Denman was
curious to know how a man whose time must have been mainly engrossed by
engineering, had gathered so much knowledge on a subject quite out of his
own line, and he asked the question.  "I learnt clockmaking and
watchmaking," was the answer, "while a working man at Killingworth, when
I made a little money in my spare hours, by cleaning the pitmen's clocks
and watches; and since then I have kept up my information on the
subject."  This led to further questions, and then Mr. Stephenson told
Lord Denman the interesting story of his life, which held him entranced
during the remainder of the journey.

Many of his friends readily accepted invitations to Tapton House to enjoy
his hospitality, which never failed.  With them he would "fight his
battles o'er again," reverting to his battle for the locomotive; and he
was never tired of telling, nor were his auditors of listening to, the
lively anecdotes with which he was accustomed to illustrate the struggles
of his early career.  Whilst walking in the woods or through the grounds,
he would arrest his friend's attention by allusion to some simple
object,--such as a leaf, a blade of grass, a bit of bark, a nest of
birds, or an ant carrying its eggs across the path,--and descant in
glowing terms upon the creative power of the Divine Mechanician, whose
contrivances were so exhaustless and so wonderful.  This was a theme upon
which he was often accustomed to dwell in reverential admiration, when in
the society of his more intimate friends.

One night, when walking under the stars, and gazing up into the field of
suns, each the probable centre of a system, forming the Milky Way, a
friend said to him, "What an insignificant creature is man in sight of so
immense a creation as that!"  "Yes!" was his reply; "but how wonderful a
creature also is man, to be able to think and reason, and even in some
measure to comprehend works so infinite!"

A microscope, which he had brought down to Tapton, was a source of
immense enjoyment to him; and he was never tired of contemplating the
minute wonders which it revealed.  One evening, when some friends were
visiting him, he induced them each to puncture their skin so as to draw
blood, in order that he might examine the globules through the
microscope.  One of the gentlemen present was a teetotaller, and Mr.
Stephenson pronounced his blood to be the most lively of the whole.  He
had a theory of his own about the movement of the globules in the blood,
which has since become familiar.  It was, that they were respectively
charged with electricity, positive at one end and negative at the other,
and that thus they attracted and repelled each other, causing a
circulation.  No sooner did he observe anything new, than he immediately
set about devising a reason for it.  His training in mechanics, his
practical familiarity with matter in all its forms, and the strong bent
of his mind, led him first of all to seek for a mechanical explanation.
And yet he was ready to admit that there was a something in the principle
of _life_--so mysterious and inexplicable--which baffled mechanics, and
seemed to dominate over and control them.  He did not care much, either,
for abstruse mechanics, but only for the experimental and practical, as
is usually the case with those whose knowledge has been self-acquired.

Even at his advanced age, the spirit of frolic had not left him.  When
proceeding from Chesterfield station to Tapton House with his friends, he
would almost invariably challenge them to a race up the steep path,
partly formed of stone steps, along the hill side.  And he would
struggle, as of old, to keep the front place, though by this time his
"wind" had greatly failed.  He would occasionally invite an old friend to
take a quiet wrestle with him on the lawn, to keep up his skill, and
perhaps to try some new "knack" of throwing.  In the evening, he would
sometimes indulge his visitors by reciting the old pastoral of "Damon and
Phyllis," or singing his favourite song of "John Anderson my Joe."  But
his greatest glory amongst those with whom he was most intimate, was a
"crowdie!"  "Let's have a crowdie night," he would say; and forthwith a
kettle of boiling water was ordered in, with a basin of oatmeal.  Taking
a large bowl, containing a sufficiency of hot water, and placing it
between his knees, he poured in oatmeal with one hand, and stirred the
mixture vigorously with the other.  When enough meal had been added, and
the stirring was completed, the crowdie was made.  It was then supped
with new milk, and Stephenson generally pronounced it "capital!"  It was
the diet to which he had been accustomed when a working man, and all the
dainties with which he had become familiar in recent years had not
spoiled his simple tastes.  To enjoy crowdie at his age, besides,
indicated that he still possessed that quality on which no doubt much of
his practical success in life had depended,--a strong and healthy
digestion.

He would also frequently invite to his house the humbler companions of
his early life, and take pleasure in talking over old times with them.
He never assumed any of the bearings of a great man on such occasions,
but treated the visitors with the same friendliness and respect as if
they had been his equals, sending them away pleased with themselves and
delighted with him.  At other times, needy men who had known him in youth
would knock at his door, and they were never refused access.  But if he
had heard of any misconduct on their part he would rate them soundly.
One who knew him intimately in private life has seen him exhorting such
backsliders, and denouncing their misconduct and imprudence with the
tears streaming down his cheeks.  And he would generally conclude by
opening his purse, and giving them the help which they needed "to make a
fresh start in the world."

Mr. Stephenson's life at Tapton during his latter years was occasionally
diversified with a visit to London.  His engineering business having
become limited, he generally went there for the purpose of visiting
friends, or "to see what there was fresh going on."  He found a new race
of engineers springing up on all hands--men who knew him not; and his
London journeys gradually ceased to yield him pleasure.  A friend used to
take him to the opera, but by the end of the first act, he was generally
in a profound slumber.  Yet on one occasion he enjoyed a visit to the
Haymarket with a party of friends on his birthday, to see T. P. Cooke, in
"Black-eyed Susan;"--if that can be called enjoyment which kept him in a
state of tears during half the performance.  At other times he visited
Newcastle, which always gave him great pleasure.  He would, on such
occasions, go out to Killingworth and seek up old friends, and if the
people whom he knew were too retiring, and shrunk into their cottages, he
went and sought them there.  Striking the floor with his stick, and
holding his noble person upright, he would say, in his own kind way,
"Well, and how's all here to-day?"  To the last he had always a warm
heart for Newcastle and its neighbourhood.

Sir Robert Peel, on more than one occasion, invited George Stephenson to
his mansion at Drayton, where he was accustomed to assemble round him men
of the highest distinction in art, science, and legislation, during the
intervals of his parliamentary life.  The first invitation was
respectfully declined.  Sir Robert invited him a second time, and a
second time he declined: "I have no great ambition," he said, "to mix in
fine company, and perhaps should feel out of my element amongst such high
folks."  But Sir Robert a third time pressed him to come down to Tamworth
early in January, 1845, when he would meet Buckland, Follett, and others
well known to both.  "Well, Sir Robert," said he, "I feel your kindness
very much, and can no longer refuse: I will come down and join your
party."

Mr. Stephenson's strong powers of observation, together with his native
humour and shrewdness, imparted to his conversation at all times much
vigour and originality, and made him, to young and old, a delightful
companion.  Though mainly an engineer, he was also a profound thinker on
many scientific questions: and there was scarcely a subject of
speculation, or a department of recondite science, on which he had not
employed his faculties in such a way as to have formed large and original
views.  At Drayton, the conversation usually turned upon such topics, and
Mr. Stephenson freely joined in it.  On one occasion, an animated
discussion took place between himself and Dr. Buckland on one of his
favourite theories as to the formation of coal.  But the result was, that
Dr. Buckland, a much greater master of tongue-fence than Mr. Stephenson,
completely silenced him.  Next morning, before breakfast, when he was
walking in the grounds, deeply pondering, Sir William Follett came up and
asked what he was thinking about?  "Why, Sir William, I am thinking over
that argument I had with Buckland last night; I know I am right, and that
if I had only the command of words which he has, I'd have beaten him."
"Let me know all about it," said Sir William, "and I'll see what I can do
for you."  The two sat down in an arbour, and the astute lawyer made
himself thoroughly acquainted with the points of the case; entering into
it with all the zeal of an advocate about to plead the dearest interests
of his client.  After he had mastered the subject, Sir William rose up,
rubbing his hands with glee, and said, "Now I am ready for him."  Sir
Robert Peel was made acquainted with the plot, and adroitly introduced
the subject of the controversy after dinner.  The result was, that in the
argument which followed, the man of science was overcome by the man of
law; and Sir William Follett had at all points the mastery over Dr.
Buckland.  "What do _you_ say, Mr. Stephenson?" asked Sir Robert,
laughing.  "Why," said he, "I will only say this, that of all the powers
above and under the earth, there seems to me to be no power so great as
the gift of the gab." {350}