CHAPTER IV
THE STORY OF THE FIRST RAILROAD
The new tire went on with unexpected ease and early afternoon saw theTolmans once more bowling along the highway toward Northampton. Thevalley of the Connecticut was decked with harvest products as for anautumnal pageant. Stacks of corn dotted the fields and pyramids ofgolden pumpkins and scarlet apples made gay the verandas of the oldhomesteads or brightened the doorways of the great red barns flankingthem.
"All that is needed to transform the scene into a giant Hallowe'enfestival is to have a witch whisk by on a broomstick, or a ghost bob upfrom behind a tombstone," declared Mrs. Tolman. "Just think! If we hadcome by train we would have missed all this beauty."
"I see plainly that you do not appreciate the railroads, my dear,"returned her husband mischievously. "This is the second time to-day thatyou have slandered them. You sound like the early American traveler whoasserted that it was ridiculous to build railroads which did veryuncomfortably in two days what could be done delightfully by coach ineight or ten."
"Why, I should have thought people who had never heard of motor-carswould have welcomed the quicker transportation the railroads offered,"was Mrs. Tolman's reply.
"One would have thought so," answered Mr. Tolman. "Still, when we recallhow primitive the first railroads were, the prejudice against them isnot to be wondered at."
"How did they differ from those we have now, Dad?" Doris asked.
"In almost every way," answered her father, with a smile. "You see atthe time Stephenson invented his steam locomotive nothing was known ofthis novel method of travel. As I told you, persons were accustomed tomake journeys either by coach or canal. Then the steam engine wasinvented and immediately the notion that this power might be applied totransportation took possession of the minds of people in different partsof England. As a result, first one and then another made a crudelocomotive and tried it out without scruple on the public highway, whereit not only frightened horses but terrified the passers-by. Many anamusing story is told of the adventures of these amateur locomotives. Amachinist named Murdock, who was one of James Watt's assistants, built asort of grasshopper engine with very long piston rods and with legs atthe back to help push it along; with this odd contrivance he venturedout into the road one night just at twilight. Unfortunately, however,his restless toy started off before he was ready to have it, andturning down an unfrequented lane encountered a timid clergyman who wastaking a peaceful stroll and frightened the old gentleman almost out ofhis wits. The poor man had never seen a locomotive before and when thesteaming object with its glowing furnace and its host of moving arms andlegs came puffing toward him through the dusk he was overwhelmed withterror and screamed loudly for help."
A laugh arose from the listeners.
"And that is but one of the many droll experiences of the firstlocomotive makers," continued Mr. Tolman. "For example Trevithick,another pioneer in the field, also built a small steam locomotive whichhe took out on the road for a trial trip. It chanced that during theexperimental journey he and his fireman came to a tollgate and puffingup to the keeper with the baby steam engine, they asked what the feewould be for it to pass. Now the gate keeper, like the minister, had hadno acquaintance with locomotives, and on seeing the panting red objectlooming like a specter out of the darkness and hearing a man's voiceintermingled with its gasps and snorts, he shouted with chatteringteeth:
"There is nothing to pay, my dear Mr. Devil! Just d-r-i-v-e along asf-a-s-t--as--ever--you--can."
His hearers applauded the story.
"Who did finally invent the railroad?" inquired Doris after themerriment had subsided.
"George Stephenson, an Englishman," replied her father. "For some timehe had been experimenting with steam locomotives at the Newcastle coalmines where some agency stronger than mules or horses was needed tocarry the products from one place to another. He had no idea oftransporting people when he began to work out the suggestion. All hethought of was a coal train which would run on short lengths of trackfrom mine to mine. But the notion assumed unexpected proportions untilthe Darlington road, the most ambitious of his projects, reached theastonishing distance of thirty-seven miles. When the rails for it werelaid the engineer intended it should be used merely for coaltransportation, as its predecessors had been; but some of the miners wholived along the route and were daily obliged to go back and forth towork begged that some sort of a conveyance be made that could also runalong the track and enable them to ride to work instead of walking. So alittle log house not unlike a log cabin, with a table in the middle andsome chairs around it, was mounted on a cart that fitted the rails, anda horse was harnessed to the unique vehicle."
"And it was this log cabin on wheels that gave Stephenson hisinspiration for a railroad train!" gasped Doris.
"Yes," nodded her father. "When the engineer saw the crude object thefirst question that came to him was why could not a steam locomotivepropel cars filled with people as well as cars filled with coal.Accordingly he set to work and had several coach bodies mounted ontrucks, installing a lever brake at the front of each one beside thecoachman's box. In front of the grotesque procession he placed a steamlocomotive and when he had fastened the coaches together he had thefirst passenger train ever seen."
"It must have been a funny looking thing!" Steve exclaimed, smiling withamusement at the picture the words suggested.
"It certainly was," agreed his father. "If you really wish to know howfunny, some time look up the prints of this great-great-grandfather ofour present-day Pullman and you will be well repaid for your trouble;the contrast is laughable."
"But was this absurd venture a success?" queried Mrs. Tolmanincredulously.
"Indeed it was!" returned her husband. "In fact, Stephenson, like Watt,was one of the few world benefactors whose gift to humanity wasinstantly hailed with appreciation. The railroad was, to be sure, awretched little affair when viewed from our modern standpoint, for therewere no gates at the crossings, no signals, springless cars, and everyimaginable discomfort. Fortunately, however, our ancestors had not grownup amid the luxuries of this era, and being of rugged stock that waswell accustomed to hardships of every variety they pronounced theinvention a marvel, which in truth it was.
"You've said it!" chuckled Steve in the slang of the day.
"In the meantime," went on Mr. Tolman, "conditions all over England werebecoming more and more congested, and from every direction a clamorarose for a remedy. You see the invention of steam spinning machineryhad greatly increased the output of the Manchester cotton mills untilthere was no such thing as getting such a vast bulk of merchandise tothose who were eager to have it. Bales of goods waiting to betransported to Liverpool not only overflowed the warehouses but wereeven stacked in the open streets where they were at the mercy of robbersand storms. The canals had all the business they could handle, and as isalways the result in such cases their owners became arrogant under theirprosperity and raised their prices, making not the slightest attempt tohelp the public out of its dilemma. Undoubtedly something had to be doneand in desperation a committee from Parliament sent for Stephenson thatthey might discuss with him the feasibility of building a railroad fromManchester to Liverpool. The committee had no great faith in theenterprise. Most of its members did not believe that a railroad of anysort was practical or that it could ever attain speed enough to be ofservice. However, it was a possibility, and as they did not know whichway to turn to quiet the exasperated populace they felt they might aswell investigate this remedy. It could do no harm."
Mr. Tolman paused as he stooped to change the gear of the car.
"So Stephenson came before the board, and one question after another washurled at him. When, however, he was asked, half in ridicule, whether ornot his locomotive could make thirty miles an hour and he answered inthe affirmative, a shout of derision arose from the Parliament members.Nobody believed such a miracle possible. Nevertheless, in spite of theirsceptical attitude, it was finally decided to build theLiverpoo
l-Manchester road and about a year before its opening a date wasset for a contest of locomotives to compete for the five-hundred-poundprize offered by the directors of the road."
"I suppose ever so many engines entered the lists," ventured Steve withinterest.
"There were four," returned his father.
"And Stephenson drove one of them?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I hope it got the prize!" put in Doris eagerly.
Her father smiled at her earnestness.
"It did," was his reply. "Stephenson's engine was called the 'Rocket'and was a great improvement over the locomotive he had used at themines, for this one had not only a steam blast but a multi-tubularboiler, a tremendous advance in engine building."
"I suppose that the winner of the prize not only got the money the roadoffered but his engine was the one chosen as a pattern for those to beused on the new railroad," ventured Stephen.
"Precisely. So you see a great deal depended on the showing eachlocomotive made. Unluckily in the excitement a tinder box had beenforgotten, and when it came time to start, the spark to light the fireshad to be obtained from a reading glass borrowed from one of thespectators. This, of course, caused some delay. But once the fires wereblazing and steam up, the engines puffed away to the delight of thoselooking on."
"I am glad Stephenson was the winner," put in Doris.
"Yes," agreed her father. "He had worked hard and deserved success. Itwould not have seemed fair for some one else to have stolen the fruit ofhis toil and brain. Yet notwithstanding this, his path to fame was notentirely smooth. Few persons win out without surmounting obstacles andStephenson certainly had his share. Not only was he forced to fightcontinual opposition, but the opening of the Manchester and Liverpoolroad, which one might naturally have supposed would be a day of greattriumph, was, in spite of its success, attended by a series ofcatastrophes. It was on September 15, 1830, that the ceremonies tookplace, and long before the hour set for the gaily decorated trains topass the route was lined with excited spectators. The cities ofLiverpool and Manchester also were thronged with those eager to see theengines start or reach their destination. There were, however, mingledwith the crowd many persons who were opposed to the new venture."
"Opposed to it?" Steve repeated with surprise.
"Yes. It seems odd, doesn't it?"
"But why didn't they want a railroad?" persisted the boy. "I thoughtthat was the very thing they were all demanding."
"You must not forget the condition of affairs at the time," said hisfather. "Remember the advent of steam machinery had deprived many of thecotton spinners of their jobs and in consequence they felt bitterlytoward all steam inventions. Then in addition there were the stagecoachdrivers who foresaw that if the railroads supplanted coaches they wouldno longer be needed. Moreover innkeepers were afraid that a terminationof stage travel would lessen their trade."
"Each man had his own axe to grind, eh?" smiled Steve.
"I'm afraid so," his father answered. "Human nature is very selfish, andthen as now men who worked for the general welfare regardless of theirown petty preferences were rare. To the side of the enemies of theinfant invention flocked every one with a grievance. The gentry arguedthat the installation of locomotives would frighten the game out of thecountry and ruin the shooting. Other opposers contended that the smokefrom the engines would not only kill the birds but in time kill thepatrons of the railroads as well. Still others protested that thesparks from the funnels might set fire to the fields of grain or to theforests. A swarm of added opponents dwelt on the fact that thepassengers would be made ill by the lurching of the trains; that therapid inrush of air would prevent their breathing; and that every sortof people would be herded together without regard to class,--the lattera very terrible calamity in a land where democracy was unknown. Evensuch intelligent men as the poet Wordsworth and the famous writer Ruskincame out hotly against the innovation, seeing in it nothing but evil."
"Didn't the opening of the Manchester and Liverpool Railroad convincethe kickers they were wrong?" asked Steve.
"Unfortunately not," was Mr. Tolman's reply. "You see several unluckyincidents marred the complete success of the occasion. As the trainstrimmed with bunting and flowers started out the scene seemed gayenough. On one car was a band of music; on another the directors of theroad; and on still another rode the Duke of Wellington, who at that timewas Prime Minister of England and had come down from London with variousother dignitaries to honor the enterprise. Church bells rang, cannonboomed, and horns and whistles raised a din of rejoicing. But everywhereamong the throng moved a large group of unemployed laborers who hadreturned from the Napoleonic wars in a discontented frame of mind andresented the use of steam machinery. They were on edge for trouble andif there were none they were ready to make it. So strong was theresentment of this element against the government that it seemedtempting Providence for the Prime Minister to venture into themanufacturing district of Manchester. At first it was decided that hewould better omit the trip altogether; but on second thought it seemedwiser for him not to add fuel to the flames by disappointing the millworkers. The audience was in too ugly a mood to be angered. ThereforeWellington bravely resolved to carry out the program and ride in one ofthe open cars."
"I hope nothing happened to him, Dad!" gasped Doris breathlessly.
"Nothing beyond a good many minor insults and indignities," respondedher father. "He was, however, in constant peril, and to those who borethe responsibility of the function he was a source of unceasing anxiety.But in spite of the jeers of the mob, their crowding and pushing abouthis car, he kept a smiling face like the true gentleman he was. Some ofthe rougher element even went so far as to hurl missiles at him. You canimagine how worried his friends were for his safety and how thedirectors who had invited him fidgeted. And as if this worry were notenough, by and by a fine rain began to fall and those persons riding inthe open coaches, as well as the decorations and the spectators, gotwell drenched. Then there were delays on the turnouts while one trainpassed another; and as a climax to these discouragements, Mr. Hickson,a member of Parliament from Liverpool, got in the path of an approachingengine, became confused and was run over; and although Stephensonhimself carried him by train to Liverpool he died that evening."
"I should call the fete to introduce the steam engine into England amost disastrous and forlorn one," remarked Mrs. Tolman.
"Well, in reality it was not such a failure as it sounds," replied herhusband, "for only those most closely connected with it sensed themisfortunes that attended it. The greater part of the people along theroute were good-humored and pleased; they marveled at the trains as theypassed, cheered the Duke and the authorities with him, listened withdelight to the band, and made a jest of the rain. A holiday crowd, youknow, is usually quite patient. Hence the delays that fretted the guestsand the officials of the road did not annoy the multitudes so vitally."
"Poor Stephenson really got some satisfaction out of the day then,"sighed Mrs. Tolman.
"Oh, yes, indeed," said her husband. "Although I fancy the death of Mr.Hickson must have overshadowed his rejoicings. Notwithstanding this,however, the railroad proved itself a practical venture, which was themain thing. Such slight obstacles as the terror of the horses and thefact that the tunnels into Liverpool were so low that the engines had tobe detached and the trains hauled into the yards by mules could beremedied."
A flicker of humor danced in Mr. Tolman's eyes.
"And did England begin to build railroads right away?" Steve inquired.
"Yes, and not only England but France also. Frenchmen who crossed theChannel took home glowing accounts of the novel invention andimmediately the French Government realized that that country must alsohave railroads. But just as the conservative element in England had beensceptical and blocked Stephenson's progress--or tried to--so acorresponding faction in France did all it could to cry down theenterprise. Even those who upheld the introduction of the roadsadvocated them for only short distances o
ut of Paris; a long trunk routethey labeled as an absurdity. Iron was too expensive, they argued;furthermore the mountains of the country rendered extensive railroadingimpossible. France did not need railroads anyway. Nevertheless thelittle group of seers who favored the invention persisted and there wasno stopping the march of which they were the heralds. Railroads had cometo stay and they stayed."
"It was a fortunate thing they did, wasn't it?" murmured Doris.
"A very fortunate thing," returned Mr. Tolman heartily. "Every greatinvention is usually suggested by a great need and so it was with thisone. By 1836 the craze for railroad building swept both hemispheres. InEngland the construction of lines to most out-of-the-way andundesirable places were proposed, and the wildest schemes for propellingtrains suggested; some visionaries even tried sails as a medium oflocomotion instead of steam. Rich and poor rushed to invest theirsavings in railroads and alas, in many cases the misguided enthusiastslost every shilling of their money in the project. Great business firmsfailed, banking houses were ruined, and thousands of workmen were thrownout of employment. In consequence a reaction followed and it was yearsbefore wary investors could again be induced to finance a railroad. Inthe interim both engines and coaches underwent improvement, especiallythe third-class carriage which in the early days was nothing more thanan open freight car and exposed its unhappy patrons to snow, rain, andfreezing weather."
"Great Scott!" cried Steve. "I should say there was room for improvementif that was the case."
"There was indeed," echoed his father. "In fact, it was a long timebefore travel by train became a pleasure. Most of the engines used pitchpine or soft coal as a fuel and as there were no guards on thesmokestacks to prevent it, the smoke, soot, and cinders used to blowback from the funnels and shower the passengers. On the first railroadtrip from New York to Albany those sitting outside the coaches werecompelled to put up umbrellas to protect themselves from theseannoyances."
"Imagine it!" burst out Doris, with a rippling laugh.
"Nor were the umbrellas of any service for long," continued Mr. Tolman,"for the sparks soon burned their coverings until nothing but the steelribs remained."
"I don't wonder the trip was not a pleasure," smiled Mrs. Tolman.
"Yet, in spite of its discomfort, it was a novelty and you must notforget that, as I said before, the public of that period was a simpleand less exacting one than is the public of to-day. We make a frightfulfuss if we are jolted, chilled, crowded, delayed, or made uncomfortable;but our forefathers were a hale and hearty lot--less overworked perhaps,less nervous certainly, less indulged. They had never known anythingbetter than cold houses, draughty and crowded stagecoaches, and stonyhighways--plenty of obstacles, you see, and few luxuries. Therefore withnaive delight they welcomed one new invention after another, overlookingits defects and considering themselves greatly blessed to have anythingas fine. Probably we, who are a thousand per cent better off than they,do more grumbling over the tiny flaws in the mechanism of our lives thanthey did over the mammoth ones."
"Oh, come, Dad!" protested Stephen. "Aren't you putting it ratherstrong?"
"Not a whit too strong, Steve," Mrs. Tolman interrupted. "I believe weare a fussy, pampered, ungrateful generation. It is rather pathetic,too, to think it is we who now reap the benefits of all those perfectedideas which our ancestors enjoyed only in their most primitivebeginnings. It seems hardly fair that Stephenson, for example, shouldnever have seen a modern Pullman.
"He was spared something, wasn't he, Dad?" chuckled Steve mischievously.
But Mr. Tolman did not heed the remark.
"He had the vision," returned he softly, "the joy of seeing the marvelfor the first time, imperfect as it was. Perhaps that was compensationenough. It is the reward of every inventor. Remember it is no meanprivilege to stand upon the peak in Darien which Keats pictures."
Steve and the Steam Engine Page 4
