The Darlington line had been in some ways a stab in the dark. They weren’t quite sure of the trade that would be available or the profits to be made, which was why Edward Pease had always insisted on a modest 5 per cent. But in Liverpool, everyone was more than aware of the enormous amount of trade crying out to be transported. It was a pleasant situation for the canal men to be in. In the 1820s they were still relatively new and were sure their best days were to come. The river men were equally confident, in fact they’d recently spent £250,000 on deepening and widening the Mersey and Irwell. Both the river and canal interests, having invested a million or so pounds and made themselves several millions in return, were certainly not going to welcome any newcomers,
The idea of a horsedrawn railway from Liverpool to Manchester had been around for many years. In 1797 William Jessop did a survey but could find no backers. In 1798 an engineer called Benjamin Outram, who’d perfected his own iron plateway, made a similar suggestion but fell out with his Manchester partners. (There’s a nice theory that the word tram came from Outram – after his patent Outram way – but the origin of the word dates back much earlier, to 1,500, and came from the low German traam, meaning wooden beam.)
Thomas Gray, the writer on railways (the one who locked himself up in his room with his vision telling his wife he was going to change the world), suggested that the first locomotive railway should be built between Liverpool and Manchester because of the extensive trade, though he was thinking of using Blenkinsop’s cogged wheels. This was in 1820 and it is reasonable to suppose that William James, who must be given the major credit for the original work on the Liverpool railway, had read or heard of Gray’s suggestions. James arrived in 1821 in Liverpool and began talks with Joseph Sandars, a wealthy Liverpool corn merchant and a noted critic of the canal and river monopolies.
Since 1815 William James, as we know, had been the country’s leading advocate of railways. His money came from his London-based land agency business, said to be the biggest in the country, which in 1812, was bringing him around £10,000 a year. According to the apologia written later by his daughter E.M.S.P., the one in which she attacks George Stephenson, James was worth at that time around £150,000.
It is relatively easy to see why Robert Stephenson found William James so attractive. He was big and fat and jolly, a great talker, full of enthusiasm and ideas. Most of all, he was a brilliant persuader, being as fluent on paper as in speech, so unlike poor old George. Many of his letters, published later by his daughter, show some nice turns of phrase. ‘By the speed and cheapness of steam carriage on railroad, space is nearly destroyed.’ Talking, as he always was, about the great benefits which railways would bring, he said that a railway ‘tends to bless the land through which it passeth’. At the time, which was 1822, everyone thought precisely the opposite, but his words came true.
William James was indeed a friend of the rich and the famous – and even when he didn’t know someone rich and famous, he was a master at introducing himself by some incredible feats of name dropping. This is a letter James wrote to Lord Stanley, one of the landowners along the route of the Liverpool railway, whom he wanted to impress.
Prescott, Nov. 13th, 1822
MY LORD, – The plans and sections of the proposed Liverpool and Manchester railroad being completed, I have applied to your noble father to allow me to submit the same to his lordship’s consideration tomorrow morning. I am not so fortunate to possess a letter of introduction to the noble earl or your lordship, though from my long experience in parliamentary and other business, as land agent and engineer for his present Majesty, the land revenue, the late Dukes of Northumberland and Norfolk, the Duchess of Dorset, Earls Whitworth and Warwick, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Lord Holland, and other noble personages, I believe I must be personally known to your lordship.
Unfortunately for William James, he was so busy impressing people with his own fame and his own schemes that he gave little time to his London office and the more routine job of being a land agent. He preferred to speculate in ideas not land. He neglected his office to bustle round the country throwing out ideas for canals, bridges and railways, forming partnerships, financing surveys, then moving on just as quickly to the next town and the next wonderful scheme.
He had been thinking originally of horsedrawn railways until, as we have seen, he heard about locomotives. He came across George Stephenson at Killingworth in the summer of 1821 and exclaimed in wonder at the efficiency of his locomotive engine: ‘An engine that will before long effect a complete revolution in society.’ George was described, in a letter from James to Losh, as the ‘greatest practical genius of the age.’
It is not clear if he saw George’s machines before meeting Sandars – both events happened around the summer of 1821 – but he was continually rushing between the two, feeding and fuelling enthusiasm at the two sources. Having got Sandars excited by the prospect of a Liverpool railway to put the water barons in their place, he managed to take a look at a possible route. He did what he euphemistically called an ‘oculine survey’ (probably hanging out of the window of a fast coach on the turnpike, judging by the speed at which he moved), and reported that it would be a very easy job. ‘The geological difficulties are very few and unimportant.’ He was soon sending technical letters across to Stephenson, already convinced that not only was he going to officially survey and build the line but have steam locomotives running on it. It’s hard not to find his enthusiasm attractive. (The Darlington line, remember, was still thinking of horses at this stage.)
By September 1821 James had become a partner with Stephenson and Losh on some locomotive designs and tried, but failed, to get them adopted on one of the many other railway projects (at Moreton-in-Marsh) he was currently promoting. Meanwhile Mr Sandars was busily drumming up support amongst the merchants of Liverpool. As the Stockton–Darlington Railway was very much a Darlington affair, so the Liverpool–Manchester line was born and bred in Liverpool.
The following year James was officially commissioned by Sandars and his partners to survey the line. He was to be paid £300 for the job (£10 a mile), which by now was very welcome as his land agency business was running deep into financial troubles. One at least of his many schemes looked like coming to fruition, perhaps saving him from disaster. The previous year’s oculine survey, plus the plans and designs and travelling expenses, had all been paid for out of his own pocket.
This was the stage when young Robert Stephenson, the son of his new and brilliant friend, came across to be one of his assistants, plus his own son William, his brother-in-law Paul Padley and three others. Robert later talked about the great times they had but it was a much harder job than the Darlington survey. Men, women and children threw stones at them, probably encouraged by the canal lobby. At St Helens a gang of miners attacked them and threatened to throw them down the pit. The man carrying the theodolite was always singled out for the worst attacks, inspiring in the locals a Luddite rage, till James hired a prize fighter to protect him, though it didn’t stop the theodolite on one occasion from being smashed.
James was spurred on rather than perturbed by this opposition and his cheerfulness and resourcefulness must have inspired his young assistant. Writing back to Sandars, James sounds almost messianic in his fervour:
At Manchester the subject encourages all men’s thoughts and it is curious and amusing to hear their conjectures. The canal companies are alive to the danger. I am the object of their persecution and hate; they would immolate me if they could; but if I can die the death of Samson, by pulling away the pillars, I am content to die with these Philistines. Be assured, my dear sir, that not a moment shall be lost, nor shall my attention for a day be diverted from this concern which increases in importance every hour, as well as in the certainty of ultimate success.
His words, as usual, were more fluent and flowery than his deeds. His attention was indeed being seriously diverted, as he tried to keep other projects, and himself, afloat but his prose was certa
inly convincing. It probably appealed to Sandars, who was also an enthusiast and propagandist, much more so than the rather dour, solid, careful Peases and the other Quakers behind the Darlington line.
Not much is known personally about Sandars except that he was a Liverpool businessman, a Whig and a parliamentary reformer. He was said to be a better promoter than a businessman and one of his first objects was to get the local press and politicians interested in the scheme. There were some local Quakers behind his scheme, such as James Cropper, but his main Liverpool supporters were the more liberal, radical merchants, bankers and professional men. They were active in the great national causes of the day, such as the antislavery movement, and determined locally to reduce the unfair powers of the canal and river companies. Over in Manchester, where his embryo committees were much smaller in numbers, they were almost to a man cotton manufacturers.
All the Liverpool railway promoters were reasonable, solid, well respected citizens and one of the earliest moves they made, when their committee was formed in 1822, was to inform the canal people of their plans and grievances, suggesting to the Bridgwater trustees that they should reduce their exorbitant rates. Informal talks took place and the canal people, had they been foresighted, could have delayed the building of the railway for a decade at least if only they’d agreed to open up their monopoly. Alternatively they could have joined forces and together exploited the enormous transport possibilities that were so obviously available. The canal people refused point blank. They themselves had formerly been the upstarts, complaining about the river board’s monopoly, but as so often happens, once in power they wanted to hold on. The result was that the railway committee was even more determined to succeed.
William James, for all his purple prose, was now patently beginning to hold them up. The committee constantly wrote to him about the survey but he was proving exceedingly slow. He wrote to George Stephenson in November 1822 saying he was now finalising the survey, asking for the latest details on what loads George’s locomotives could haul.
There’s a letter that same month back from Stephenson, rather elliptical and one vital word can’t be read, nor is it clear what subject they are discussing, but it shows the first sign that the two of them have had some difference of opinion.
To William James, Horse and Jockey Inn,
Newton, Nr Warrington, Lancs
My dear Sir,
You try my conscience very … [word missing]. I assure you I am quite inclined to do all the good I possibly can, but you will excuse me saying more than l think I can perform. I hope you have had a safe and pleasant journey home. I have no doubt but I shall please you and the Company with the Engines in the end.
I am Dear Sir, Yours truly, Geo Stephenson.
Killingworth Colly.
Nov 4, 1822.
From the look of it, William James must have been encouraging Stephenson to boost the power of his machines, perhaps exaggerating or even lying about their performance which George, being an honourable if uneducated man, is unwilling to do. However, they keep exchanging letters. In another, George says he has some improved wagons which travel with less friction and hopes James might put in a good word for them with the Stratford on Avon Railway, yet another of James’ current schemes.
Sandars, meanwhile, had been very busy establishing good parliamentary contacts, getting ready for the battles ahead. Through one of the more influential members of his committee, John Gladstone, a former MP, two local MPs, both national figures, became supporters of the railway – George Canning and William Huskisson. Another of their influential supporters was Charles Lawrence who in 1823 became mayor of Liverpool. But through James’ slowness in providing the survey they missed the coming session of parliament.
James had had the canal opposition to contend with, bad weather and objections from the turnpike trusts, forcing him to keep away from their roads, but the main problem was his own financial position.
‘The surveys and plans can’t be completed, I see, till the end of the week,’ so he wrote to Sandars. ‘With illness, anguish of mind and inexpressible distress, I perceive I must sink if I wait any longer; and in short I have so neglected the suit in Chancery I named to you, that if I do not put in an answer I shall be outlawed.’
The suit in Chancery, brought by his brother-in-law, went through and in 1823 James was declared bankrupt and went to prison for seven months – the first of several actions against him from his former partners. He still had the nearly completed survey which he carefully kept hold of, making sure the committee wouldn’t completely forget him.
The committee at length decided they’d had enough, having had their plans put back over a year because of all the James troubles. Sandars and four others went to see Stephenson’s engines at Killingworth and Hetton, inspected the progress of the Darlington line and were very impressed. On 19 May 1824, Sandars wrote to Edward Pease in Darlington telling him that they’d decided to appoint George as engineer. This letter, hitherto unpublished, is one of the letters Liverpool Library bought at Sothebys in 1973.
Dear Sir,
Tho’ am aware you are not in town, I take the liberty of addressing this to you to state that the Liverpool Manchester Rail Road Compy have appointed Mr Geo Stephenson as their Engineer and if he be on your line we request you will send a special messenger to inform him that a letter has been sent to him at Newcastle advising the same. The Deputation had previously engaged him and that engagement has been confirmed by the subscribers at large.
The expense of the special messenger we shall be glad to defray. I beg the messenger be sent immediately to prevent him contracting any other engagement.
I shall feel obliged by any person in your absence acting on this.
I am, dear sir, very truly yours,
J. SANDARS.
To Edwd Pease, Esq,
Or to the Clerk of the Rail Road Office in his absence.
It would seem from this that Mr Sandars was in a slight panic, desperate to contact George. It was by now well over a year since James’ downfall and they obviously thought that in the meantime George might well have taken on other jobs and be unable to work for them. It would be hard to believe from this letter that George had been in any way scheming with the committee to get James’ job, which was what the James faction later claimed.
A week later, presumably having heard in the affirmative from George, Sandars wrote to James telling him the news.
May 25, 1824
Dear Sir,
I think it right to inform you that the Committee have engaged your friend Mr. G. Stephenson. We expect him here in a few days.
The subscription list for £30,000 is filled, and the Manchester gentlemen have conceded us the entire management. I very much regret that by delay and promises you have forfeited the confidence of the subscribers. I cannot help it. I fear now that you will only have the fame of being connected with the commencement of this undertaking. If you will send me down your plans and estimates I will do everything for you I can, and I believe I possess as much influence as any person. I am quite certain that the appointment of Stephenson will, under all circumstances, be agreeable to you. I believe you have recommended him yourself. If you consent to put your plaits &c under my control and management your name shall be prominent in the proceedings and this, in such a mighty affair, will be of importance to you. You may rely upon my zeal for you in every point connected with your reputation.
James kept tight hold of the plans and still had some vague hopes of keeping contact with the Liverpool company. He wrote to his brother-in-law Paul Padley, who’d been his second in command on the survey, asking him to go to Liverpool and do a fresh survey. But George had beaten him to it. He had stepped in quickly and engaged Padley himself to work with him on the new survey.
‘He knows my plans,’ wrote James to his son, ‘of which he and S. will now avail themselves. I confess I did not calculate upon such duplicity in either.’
The James camp have always seen
this as a very nasty tactic by George. Certainly it was a smart move – but on the other hand it was eminently sensible. George knew by this time that he was losing Robert, and his first hand knowledge of the terrain, to South America, so it was as well to get any other experienced help he could.
William James now fades from the scene for ever. He did get out of prison and tried for a few years to start other railway schemes but each time something went wrong. He retired in the end to Cornwall where he lived very frugally. His family always staunchly defended him and it is hard not to feel a certain sympathy. He was an early advocate of railways and was generous in the praise and help he gave George. While other railway pioneers went on to fame and fortune he received nothing. There is no evidence that George or anyone else caused his downfall, though George might have been a bit more helpful when he did hit hard times. The flaws were obviously in James’ own character. There was an exciting, honeymoon period each time he started work on a scheme – but each time it ended in tears, for reasons very similar to those at Liverpool, with James being dispensed with. In the end, William James never built a railway.
George Stephenson Page 14
