II.

away as merrily as though nothing had hap-repairing clocks, and, above all, studying the pened. The fame of this exploit was bruited capacities of the steam-engine as before. abroad, and before long all the dilapidated timekeepers of the neighborhood were sent to him for repairs, making another and still more lucrative addition to his list of employments.

His wife died two or three years after their marriage, having, in the mean while, borne him a son, who was named Robert, in honor of Old Bob. This second Robert Stephenson, long the foremost engineer of England, and architect of the famous Menai Bridge, is now living, a wealthy and prosperous man, and member of the House of Commons.

At last the golden opportunity came, and George Stephenson, at the age of thirty, was ready to take advantage of it. After all it was seemingly but a small thing. Close by the pit where he worked, the "Grand Allies," a wealthy mining company, had sunk a new pit, and erected an engine to pump out the water. The engine hissed and played, but there was something wrong. "She could not keep her jack-head out of water," the miners said; "all the enginemen in the neighborhood had tried, but all were clean bet." For a whole twelvemonth George Stephenson could see the smoke from the engine rising over the hill, but to every inquiry he re

drowned out." He revolved the matter in his mind until he was satisfied that he had discovered the cause of the failure; and one Saturday afternoon he walked over the hill to take a look at affairs.

Soon after the death of his wife, George Stephenson was invited to go to Scotland and take charge of an engine at higher wages than he could obtain in England. He made the jour-ceived the same answer: "They were still ney on foot, with his kit on his back. But his heart yearned for his old home and his boy, and in a year he returned, likewise on foot, with twenty-eight pounds in his pocket. One night he stopped at a poor farm-house and requested shelter, which was granted after some demur and a close inspection of his person. During the evening he so won upon the good graces of his hosts that they refused to take pay for his entertainment, but urged him, should he ever again pass that way, to be sure and visit them. Years after, when George Stephenson had become a prosperous man, he did pass that way, and sought out the farmer, now become old and poor. On parting he left behind him a memento commensurate with his own large ability rather than with the small kindness which he had received.

He found himself sadly needed at home. Old Bob had been terribly scalded, and rendered totally blind by an accident in the colliery. George unhesitatingly devoted more than half of his year's savings to the payment of his father's debts, established him in a cottage near his own, and was thenceforward his sole and willing stay and support. The old man lived for many years, blind, but cheerful to the last, and gladdened by the rising fortunes of his son. For a time, however, George Stephenson's outlook was gloomy. The great duel between Pitt and Napoleon was being fought. England had 700,000 men under arms; every seventh person at home was a pauper, maintained from the poor-rates. Heavy taxes, high prices, and uncertain work pressed hardly upon the laboring classes, who were, moreover, haunted by the fear of being drawn for the militia or impressed for the navy. George Stephenson was drawn for the militia, and it cost him the remainder of his savings to hire a substitute. He grew disheartened, and cast longing looks toward the land of promise beyond the Atlantic. It was only a look, for he could not raise money for the voyage. Happy for the world that it was so. The humble engine-man was just then the man whom England could least afford to lose. So he went on attending to his break, mending shoes, cutting out pitmen's clothing, VOL. XV.-No. 89.-Uv

"Weel, George," asked his friend, Kit Heppel, the "sinker," "what do you mak o' her? Do you think you could do any thing to improve her?"

66

Man, I could alter her and mak her draw; in a week's time from this I could send you to the bottom."

Kit told this to Mr. Dods, the "viewer," who had begun to despair. Drowning men catch at straws, and Mr. Dods forthwith walked over to George's cottage. He found him dressed in his Sunday's best, just setting out for the Methodist preaching.

"Well, George," said Mr. Dods, "they tell me you think you can put the engine at the High Pits to rights."

"Yes, Sir, I think I could."

"If that's the case, I'll give you a fair trial, and you must set to work immediately. We are clean drowned out, and can not get a step further. The engineers hereabout are all bet. If you do what they can not, I'll make you a man for life."

On

Perhaps George Stephenson was wrong; for he did not go to church that Sunday, but set at once about his work. The alterations were, after all, very simple, and by Wednesday night the engine had been taken down, the alterations made, and all put in working order. Thursday morning it was set to work, and before Friday night the pit was clear of water. George Stephenson had sent them to the bottom in two days. For this labor he received ten pounds, and a better situation than he had held. His reputation was also established as an engine-doctor, and he was soon called upon to prescribe for all the wheezy old pumping-engines in the county. Not long after the enginewright of the Grand Allies died, and Mr. Dods, true to his promise of making a man of George, appointed him to the vacant post, with a salary of a hundred pounds a year.

Thus relieved from the daily routine of mere

manual labor, he had an opportunity of show-voice reassured the men, and they followed him. ing his true value, and effected many valuable Brick and mortar were at hand. In a few minimprovements in the working of the machinery utes a wall was built at the mouth of the burnof the mines. To the little cottage with a sin- ing shaft; the air was excluded, and the fire gle room where he resided, he had built sundry extinguished. But several miners were suffoadditions with his own hands. He raised gi-cated in the recesses of the mines. gantic leeks and astounding cabbages in his little garden-plot, and filled the neighborhood with odd mechanical contrivances. A curious wind-mill frightened the birds from his garden, the gate of which was secured by a latch which he only could open; he fashioned an alarmclock to summon the drowsy pitmen to their labors; fished at night by the light of a lamp which would burn under water; and attached the good wives' cradles to the smoke-jacks so that the infants were rocked without any labor on the part of their mothers.

But among all his multifarious occupations, he lost no opportunity of carrying on his negNected education. The son of a neighboring #farmer was well versed in arithmetic, and knew something of mechanics and natural history. George soon learned from him all that he knew. His son was placed at the best schools in the neighborhood, and from him the father was not ashamed to take lessons. On Saturdays the boy brought from the Newcastle Literary and Philosophical Institution such books as might be taken from the library, and was instructed to make descriptions and sketches from such as could not be taken away. The lad, "a chip of the old block," was fond of reducing his scientifie reading to practice. He invested his pocket-money in a half mile of copper wire, one end of which he attached to a kite string, while the other was fastened to the garden palings where his father's pony was hitched. An opportune thunder-cloud passing, young Bob seized the occasion for verifying Franklin's famous experiment, by bringing the wire in contact with the tail of the pony, whose plunging and kicking gave evidence of the success of the young inquirer. The father scolded a little, but chuckled inwardly at this practical result of his son's scientific studies.

Explosions of "fire-damp" were of frequent occurrence in the collieries. Several of these had occurred in the pits in which George Stephenson had worked. Killingworth Colliery, where he was now engine-wright, contained 160 miles of excavation, full of fissures from which the fatal gas was constantly escaping. In spite of all precautions an explosion might at any moment be looked for.

"Can nothing be done to prevent such awful occurrences?" asked Kit Heppel as he and Stephenson were searching for the dead bodies. "I think there can," replied George. "Then the sooner you start the better; for the price of coal-mining now is pitmen's lives." The rough collier had anticipated the finest line of Hood's "Song of the Shirt."

Sir

Stephenson had for some time been engaged in making experiments upon coal-damp. These were now prosecuted with new zeal; in a few months he had devised a Safety Lamp, and tested it in the most dangerous situations. Humphry Davy produced his lamp at about the same time. Both lamps were identical in principle, but neither inventor had any knowledge of the labors of the other. They had wrought by different methods, and arrived at the same practical solution, and both deserved the honor of independent inventors. With this Stephenson was well content. Not so the vain, irritable, and ambitious philosopher. A testimonial, amounting to £2000, was raised for Davy. The northern coal owners raised half as much for Stephenson. A great controversy sprung up. Stephenson, in a manly, modest pamphlet, while asserting his own separate claim, gave full credit to Davy. Davy angrily denounced the claim of Stephenson as infamous and disgraceful, and charged him with pirating his invention. But facts and dates proved incontestably that Stephenson was the earlier inventor.

Stephenson laid aside his thousand pounds, which, by-and-by, were to stand him in good stead. In the mean while the greater portion of his time was devoted to the subject of steamengines and railways, the intimate connection between which had begun slowly to dawn upon him.

III.

Railways of a rude construction had existed for centuries in the coal districts. Heavy loads were to be regularly hauled for short distances. To diminish the friction it was a natural expedient to lay down wooden rails for the wagon wheels to run upon; then to cover the rails with iron plates; and, finally, to substitute iron rails for wooden ones. Such a railway ran past the door of the cottage where George Stephenson was born.

One day in 1814 a miner rushed to Stephenson's cottage with the startling announcement As the marvelous powers of the steam-engine that the deepest part of the colliery was on fire. developed themselves, ingenious men began to Through the throngs of frightened women and cast about for the means of applying them to children George made his way to the mouth of transportation by land and water. For a long the pit, and ordered the engineman to lower time these efforts were confined to constructing him down. The miners were hurrying in ter- engines to run on common roads; for railways ror to the shaft. As he touched the bottom he were unknown, except in the distant coal-reshouted, "Stand back! Are there six men gions. In 1784, Murdoch, an assistant of among you who have courage to follow me? Watt, constructed a model locomotive, which If so, come, and we will put out the fire." His he one night undertook to try in a solitary lane

proprietors of the Killingworth Mines, advanced money to enable him to make the experiment. In honor of this nobleman Stephenson named his engine "My Lord," but the colliery people gave it the less sounding appellation of "Blutcher."

near Redruth Church. The fire was lighted and the engine started. It soon outran its inventor and disappeared in the darkness. Shouts of terror were heard in the direction in which it had gone. These were found to proceed from the worthy clergyman of the parish, who, happening to take an evening walk in the Blutcher was a great improvement upon Black solitary lane, and seeing the fiery little mon- Billy, for he could draw a heavy train at the ster dash hissing and flaming by, was sure that rate of three miles an hour. Stephenson had it was nothing else than the Evil One, come in also by experiment satisfied himself that a his own proper person to work him some griev- smooth wheel would hold upon a smooth rail, ous harm. Various other engines were made and hence the toothed wheel and cogged rail for the same purpose, the most notable of which were dispensed with. Blutcher was put in operwas that of an ingenious inventor named Tre-ation July 25, 1814, but at the end of the year vethick. This was one day set running on a it was found that he could not do his work more turnpike near Plymouth. It proved somewhat economically than horses would have performed unmanageable, dashing at the start into a gar-it. The great difficulty was that steam could den-fence, and then rushing at headlong speed along the road toward the toll-gate, which the terrified keeper managed to open just as the monster came up.

"What's to pay?" asked the engine-man, who had succeeded in bringing his machine to a stop.

not be generated with sufficient rapidity. Stephenson had observed that the waste steam from the exhaust pipe passed off with much more rapidity than the smoke escaped from the chimney. It occurred to him that by turning this steam into the chimney it would impart its own velocity to the smoke, thus increasing the draught,

"Na-na-na- -" stammered the frightened and consequently the heat of the fire and the

keeper.

"What have I to pay, I say?"

"No-noth-nothing to pay! My de-dear Mister Devil, do drive on as fast as you can! Nothing to pay."

It finally occurred to Trevethick, that the traveling engine would work on the railways of the time, and he actually constructed a machine that drew considerable loads of coal, though at a very slow rate. Mr. Blenkinsop, of Leeds, about the year 1811, made some improvements in locomotives, and a number of his machines were soon in operation, one of them, "Black Billy," upon the Wylam road, which passed the cottage in which Stephenson was born. It was a cumbrous affair, often taking six hours to go five miles, and was, moreover, always getting out of repair, or running off the track, so that it was necessary to send horses along with it to help it out of difficulty. No wonder that the workmen pronounced it a "perfect plague.' But Mr. Blackett, the proprietor of the colliery, would not give it up, and even went on making new experiments, in spite of a musty proverb touching a fool and his money that was applied to him. Nobody at the time supposed that a locomotive with a smooth driving-wheel running upon a smooth rail could draw a load. It was assumed that the wheel would slip upon the rail, and the machine consequently stand still. The driving-wheel was therefore fitted with teeth, which worked in cogs in a rail laid by the side of the smooth rails upon which the carriagewheels ran.

George Stephenson had in the mean time been brooding upon the subject of traveling-engines. He had gone over to Wylam, and after carefully examining “Black Billy,” declared that he could make a better engine than that. He had by this time gained some credit as an ingenious machinist, and Lord Ravensworth, one of the

production of steam. The alteration was made, and the effective power of Blutcher was at once doubled. The success of the locomotive was now a fixed fact, but years elapsed before it was adopted on any other road.

Speculative men at last turned their attention toward railways. Foremost among these was Edward Pease, a wealthy Quaker, who had with some difficulty procured the passage of a bill for constructing the Stockton and Darlington Railway, for the passage of wagons and other carriages by "men and horses or otherwise.”

One day, toward the close of the year 1821, two strangers knocked at the door of Friend Pease. One of these announced himself as Nicholas Wood, "viewer" of the Killingworth Mine, and introduced his companion as George Stephenson, who knew something about railways, and wished to obtain employment in the construction of the new road. The good Quaker was pleased with his visitor, who described himself, in broad Northumberland dialect, as "the engine-wright at Killingworth-that's what I am." The plan of the road was talked over, and how it was to be operated. Mr. Pease had thought only of horse-power. George said his engine was worth fifty horses, and would, sooner or later, drive them off from all railroads. "Come over to Killingworth," he urged, "and see what my Blutcher can do. Seeing is believing, Sir." Back went Stephenson and his friend, as they had come, on foot, with an occasional lift by coach, when the driver could be “tipped” at a cheap rate. Mr. Pease went over to Killingworth, saw Blutcher, and believed; and George Stephenson was employed to make a new survey of the road-for so far had his engineering studies brought him—and to construct the locomotives by which it should be worked.

There was not at this time in England an establishment capable of making a locomotive

in a proper manner. Stephenson proposed to set | ary Committee. Half a score of big-wigs apup such a factory. The thousand pounds which peared for the various opponents of the bill, who he had received for his Safety-Lamp, and an made common cause against it. George Steequal sum furnished by Mr. Pease and a friend, phenson was brought before the committee, and sufficed to set up the "Newcastle Engine Facto- the lawyers made a dead set against him. One ry," which soon grew into an enormous estab-noted his rough northern accent, and asked if lishment which, for a long time, not only furnished almost all the engines built, but also produced the ablest engineers.

The Stockton and Darlington road was opened for traffic on the 27th of September, 1825. On this occasion one of Stephenson's locomotives drew a train weighing 90 tons 83 miles in 65 minutes, and it was recorded with wonder that the speed in some parts actually reached twelve miles an hour. George Stephenson, railways, and locomotives, were a decided success, though on a somewhat limited scale. But a new struggle and a decisive victory were in store for him.

IV.

For years the want of adequate communication between Manchester and Liverpool had been severely felt.

he was not a foreigner; another hinted that he was crazy; another posted himself up on curves, and velocities, and momentum, and asked all sorts of questions, relevant and irrelevant : Would any railway bear a momentum of a train of forty tons moving twelve miles an hour? Had he ever witnessed such a velocity? Would not rails bend? Would not trains run off the track? Would they not overturn when rounding a curve? Had he not known stage-coaches overturned in rounding a corner? If an engine, going at the rate of ten or twelve miles an hour, should encounter a stray cow, wouldn't it be awkward? "Very awkward for the coo," replied Stephenson.

Then one after another of the learned gentlemen summed up. George Stephenson was Trade had outgrown the capac-a fool to talk about locomotives going ten or twelve miles an hour; they could not be made to run six; they could not keep up with canal boats; they could not run at all when the wind blew. One lawyer waxed eloquent on the intolerable nuisance of the smoke and fire from the locomotives; told how the price of coal and wood and iron would be enhanced, and the breed of horses annihilated. Finally, Mr. Al-' derson-a name dear to lawyers-wound up with a magniloquent protest against the "despotism of the Liverpool Exchange, striding across the country." Sergeant Buzfuz himself, in the great Bardel case, was less eloquent than the learned gentleman.

ity of the canals, which could not be increased, for all the water available was already employed. It required more time to convey a bale of cotton from Liverpool to Manchester than from New York to Liverpool. The Manchester spindles stood still for want of the cotton which was piled up in Liverpool warehouses. Manchester warerooms were crowded with goods which could not be sent to market for want of conveyance to Liverpool, whose docks were filled with ships waiting for them. At length some bold speculator suggested that railways could carry cottons and cloths as well as coal. It was a suggestion worthy of the Chinese genius who broached the idea that a pig might, perhaps, be roasted by some other fire than that of a burning cottage. So a plan was formed for a railway between Manchester and Liverpool; the preliminary surveys were made in spite of the opposition of the canal proprietors, who feared the loss of their enormous profits, and of the squires and cits, who apprehended damage to their fox-covers and cabbage-gardens.

The bill was rejected. The next year it was renewed. There was less opposition now. The Marquis of Stafford, one of the principal canal stockholders, had been mollified by the offer of a large number of shares. One foolish member, Sir Isaac Coffin, indeed signalized himself. He would not consent to see widows' property invaded. How would any one like to have a railroad under his own parlor window? Was the House aware of the smoke and the noise, the hiss and the whirl, which locomotive engines, passing at the rate of ten or twelve miles an

The survey was intrusted to George Stephenson, whose success upon the Stockton and Darlington had been so signal, and, in 1825, a petition was presented to Parliament for the pas-hour, would occasion? Cattle plowing in the sage of a bill authorizing the construction of the road. The project was fiercely opposed. Pamphlets were written and newspapers started against it. The rural squires were told that the railroad would kill the pheasants and frighten the foxes, so that there would be an end of shooting and hunting; farmers were assured that cows would not graze or hens lay any where near the railway; and timid old ladies were forewarned that their houses would be burned down by the sparks, and themselves poisoned by the pestilential smoke from the engines.

fields or grazing in the meadows could not behold them without dismay. Iron would be raised in price, or, more probably, exhausted altogether. What would become of those who wished to travel after the fashion of their fathers, in their own or in hired carriages? What would become of coach-makers and harness-makers, of coach-masters and coachmen, of innkeepers. horse-breeders, and horse-dealers? The railroad would be the greatest nuisance, the most complete disturber of quiet and comfort, that the ingenuity of man could invent.

All this, be it remembered, was said in our It was a rare time for gentlemen of the long own generation--scarcely thirty years ago. Nor robe when the bill came before the Parliament-was Sir Isaac the only fool of his time; for at a

ported that stationary engines would be in every way the best. They recommended that the road should be divided into nineteen stations of a mile and a half each, with twenty-one station

Stephenson stood alone in favor of locomotives. He saw that railways and locomotives were inseparable parts of one great system; they were, as he phrased it, "husband and wife," neither of which was complete without the other. He besought the directors at least to give locomotives a fair trial before embark

still later day Colonel Sibthorpe-since immor- | look into the question. They did so and retalized by Punch-declared his hatred of these "infernal railroads,” adding that he would rather meet a highwayman or a burglar on his premises than an engineer; and of the two classes he thought the former much the more respecta-ary engines to haul the trains. ble. Mr. Berkeley, a member of Parliament, bemoaned the running of railroads through the heart of the hunting country, destroying the noble sport to which he had been accustomed from childhood. Worse than all, the famous Doctor Dionysius Lardner-who subsequently immortalized himself by mathematically demonstrating that the Atlantic could never be profitably ing in the cumbrous stationary system, and crossed by steam-brought his ponderous science to war against what he styled "the destruction of the atmospheric air." He proved, to his own satisfaction, that an engine drawing 100 tons through the "Box Tunnel," between London and Bristol, would deposit therein a ton and a half of noxious gases-a pleasant prospect for the travelers who were to breathe the atmosphere thus vitiated.

But the bill nevertheless passed, and the road was rapidly urged forward under the charge of George Stephenson, who was appointed chief engineer. This was the first attempt to construct a railway for general transportation, and through a region which presented any special engineering difficulties. How great these were, and with what skill and ingenuity they were surmounted by the self-taught engineer, we can not here pause to narrate. The directors of the road, as the year 1829 wore on-the third since the work was commenced-began to grow impatient. They wished for some returns from the vast amount of capital they had expended.

"Now, George," said Friend Cropper, "thou must get on with the railway, and have it finished without further delay. Thou must really have it ready for opening by the first day of January next."

"It is impossible," replied Stephenson. "Impossible! I wish I could get Napoleon at thee. He would tell thee that there is no such word."

"Tush! Don't speak to me about Napoleon. Give me men, money, and materials, and I will do what Napoleon couldn't do-drive a railroad from Liverpool to Manchester over Chat Moss." And truly this road was a greater work than the hewing of Napoleon's far-famed road across the Simplon.

The road was far advanced before the directors had made up their minds how it should be worked. Some were in favor of the old and tried system of horse-power; but the majority were convinced that steam must be used. The question lay between stationary engines and locomotives. Every scientific engineer was in favor of the former. Vallance affirmed that locomotives could never be driven as fast as horses. Tredgold was sure that stationary engines would be safer and cheaper, and that in any case ten miles an hour was unattainable. Two distinguished engineers were deputed to

pledged himself to construct an engine which should meet all reasonable requirements. He finally so far prevailed with them as to induce them to offer a prize for the locomotive which, under certain conditions, should perform in the most satisfactory manner. The main conditions were, that the engine should weigh not more than six tons, and should be able to draw a load of twenty tons ten miles an hour.

He at once set about building such an engine at his Newcastle factory, under the immediate superintendence of his son. Other engineers competed for the prize, and on the day appointed for the trial four engines were entered as competitors. Stephenson's famous "Rocket" alone fulfilled the conditions. It was first-the rest were nowhere; but it also far exceeded the stipulated conditions. It attained an average speed of fifteen miles an hour; and at times gained the hitherto unheard-of velocity of twenty-nine miles; and this performance, as was subsequently shown, was far within its capabilities. Honest Friend Cropper, who had advocated the stationary system, was astounded. "Now," he exclaimed, lifting up his hands, "now is George Stephenson at last delivered!"

The great battle had indeed been won by George Stephenson. The Railway System had been inaugurated; a new implement had been put into the hands of civilization, the mightiest which she had received since the invention of printing.

Here ends the epic interest of a life which was happy and prosperous to its close. For many years George Stephenson bore a prominent part in all the great railway enterprises of the day; attained well-deserved honor and fortune; and finally, as age gathered around him, retired gracefully from active life to that serene quiet which befits a man whose life-task has been worthily accomplished. At his humble Killingworth cottage it had been his pride to produce the largest leeks and the heaviest cabbages in the country. Now, at his stately Tapton mansion, he took a tranquil delight in his pineries, green-houses, and melon-frames. His boyish fondness for birds and animals revived. He had favorite dogs, and cows, and horses; prided himself on the beauty of his rabbits, and the breed of his chickens. Nor was he indifferent to his old pursuits. He was ready to lend a helping hand to inventors who deserved assist