The originators of the Act did not define what a Light Railway really is, but they evidently had in their minds, inter alia, that railways, unrestricted by Board of Trade regulations as to fencing, sidings, gradients, and permanent stations, should be permitted to run along the high roads, acting as feeders to the existing lines, to the benefit of the small towns, villages, and farms near which they passed. Thus a pleasing vision unfolded itself of revived agricultural prosperity, of handy little trams peacefully steaming along the highways, stopping, when hailed, at some convenient corner, where the farmers’ waggons would be in waiting with produce to be taken away to market in exchange for goods delivered to them.
It was a promising idea, for the cost of construction per mile would necessarily bear no comparison with that of ordinary heavy railways. But in this form Light Railways were not developed. Agriculturists abandoned the hope of any immediate relief, and it came to be recognised that the Act meant a development, not of goods, but of passenger traffic, and that, so far as extra-urban districts were concerned, Light Railways meant Tramways, just as they did in town or city.
It may be asked, “Do not local railways answer all requirements of the ever-increasing population and already congested districts? Whereabouts are these country tramways that we hear so much about? and in what respects are they so useful and necessary?”
For goods the network of local railways covering the country is no doubt fairly sufficient, and eventually, when well-organised services of electric-motor waggons aid in feeding them with merchandise collected and delivered at the very doors of consignor and consignee, they will fully answer their purpose; but for linking together city, town, village, and hamlet in the interests of workingmen—in many districts the chief customers—they are almost useless. For this class, wishing to get about quickly—going to and from their daily toil, paying visits to their sporting pals, attending dog shows, football matches, etc., taking their wives and children shopping, and on holidays going some distance afield—a local railway, even if close by, is of little use, with its rigid time-table, its fixed stopping-places, its high fares, and its general formality. What they wanted, and what, until the introduction of electric traction, they waited patiently for, was a service of comfortable cars, that would pass their houses every few minutes, and would take them long stages for, at the utmost, a twopenny fare.
To meet this want, in various parts of rural England, more especially in Staffordshire, horse and steam tramways were tried, but the latter method, from mechanical reasons, proved to be a failure. The rails weighed but 45 lbs. to the yard; they were set in iron chairs and laid on wooden sleepers, and the engines were of the locomotive vertical boiler type. Soon it was found that the weight of the water damaged the locomotive, and the incessant vibration and pounding shook the track so much as to necessitate constant renewal, and the expenditure became so great that many private Steam Tram Companies either wound up, were reconstructed, or were taken over by the local authorities.
Unattractive was the appearance of these old-style tramcars—great cumbersome, top-heavy, two-storied structures, drawn by what looked like a big iron box with a black funnel poking through its lid. They were dirty, they smelt, the service was irregular and slow, and the fares were too high.
MANUFACTURING CENTRES—GREAT BRITAIN
Studying an up-to-date map of Great Britain, one is struck by the fact that in the distribution of cities, towns, and villages it resembles the stellar system, with London as the governing central body, while lesser planets, each surrounded by groups of satellites (not very bright ones, it is true), varying in size and importance, represent subordinate star centres. These have grown, and still grow bigger and bigger, the suburbs of a large town reaching out farther and farther until they touch the outskirts of the next town, so that in some districts an overgrowth of houses and factories covers many a square mile.
In the quiet old days that are gone, a working-man, particularly if a weaver, could labour far away in the country in some miniature workshop or in his own little room at home. But for years past he has been compelled to trudge backwards and forwards to some big factory or mill, where steam-power was concentrated, and run upon so economical a principle, that outside of it the individual workman had no chance of gaining even the barest livelihood. With the advent of steam the villages in certain parts of England were abandoned for the town, where clusters of great workshops had sprung up. A new order of things arose, and operatives, if they could, lived within the town boundaries. But as rates, taxes, and rent increased, they concentrated in outlying hamlets, within walking