But we were not long in learning what it was all about. They loaded us on some gondola cars—imagine the sensation of riding on a railroad car, pulled by another, bigger locomotive, when, all of your lifetime had been spent in pulling cars yourself—and for several days we travelled over rails we had never seen before. Boy! What mountains and grades we crossed. I doubt if I could have pushed a single car up some of them and I admired greatly the brute strength of the big fellow on the head end of our train and the one that pushed on the rear end.
We finally reached Chicago, and were placed on exhibition at the great World’s Fair. Here the B & O was commended for its wonderful historical display, and people by the thousands came and looked at us and made remarks about how small we were compared to modern locomotives and went away. We had our brief hour of glory, and after the show, they hauled us back to Martinsburg and put us away to rust. Andy—I mean Atlantic—was cleaned up and sent to the St. Louis Fair in 1904, where the B & O was awarded a special gold medal for the most complete transportation display, and then, in 1927, he and John were taken to the Fair of the Iron Horse. Marty and I thought we were going to be in that show. They brought us to Baltimore, but changed their minds about us. We were in really bad shape! And when they sent the two of us to the Wicomico Street scrap yards, my heart jumped right up on top of my crown sheet. Surely, this was the end!
Number 1 arrives in Dayton and is lifted from freight car to motor trailer for final trip to its permanent home.
The “Lafayette,” built in 1837, the first B & O engine with horizontal boiler and six wheels, began transition from vertical boiler type.
But as the years dragged on, and we still sat on the siding, our upper parts crated over, we displayed that kind of patience that only an old locomotive is capable of as he sits for long tedious hours on the shop track, waiting for the day when he will be fixed up and running again. We did get a thrill of expectancy when we were moved to Bailey’s Museum, but there we sat in a corner and nothing was done to fix us up. I was ashamed when visitors saw me in such a condition. I would wince at the remarks they made about our junky appearance. It was worse for Marty, his beautiful grasshopper legs gone, and with those dummy tin cylinders bolted to his frame to make him look like a “crab” locomotive. I’m afraid that he is now a hopeless mental case.
The “Camel” built by Ross Winans went into service in 1848. This engine had no pony wheels. Altogether 122 were built for B & O.
