I left, not knowing an Englishman in the whole island, to have the parts of an engine, the first one from the drawings and the first engine I ever made, brought together for the first time by I had no idea whom, and assembled and put in motion before the eyes of the world. But I had no misgivings. The engine had been built in my own shop, under my constant supervision, and by workmen trained to the greatest accuracy. The crank-pin I had hardened and ground by my friend Mr. Freeland. I knew the parts would come together perfectly. The result justified my confidence.
One incident of the voyage is worth recording. As we were leaving port we passed the “China,” the first screw steamer of the Cunard fleet, coming in on her maiden voyage.
We had some rough weather, sometimes with a following sea. I was much interested at such times in watching the racing of the engines, when occasionally both paddle-wheels would be revolving in the air in the trough of the sea. The feature that especially attracted my notice was that the faster the engines ran the more smoothly they ran. It was certainly a fascinating sight to see these ponderous masses of metal, the parts of great side-lever engines, gliding with such velocity in absolute silence. The question what caused them to do so it did not occur to me to ask.
Alexander Gordon
Being anxious to reach London as quickly as possible, after a tedious voyage of twelve days, I left the steamer at Cork, to go through with the mail. The custom-house inspectors first interested me. On the little boat by which the mail is transferred from the ship to the shore, two of the representatives of Queen Victoria were anxious to know if I had any liquor or tobacco in my trunk, these being the only dutiable articles. They were quite satisfied with my reply in the negative. A personal examination they never thought of. Truthful themselves, I moralized, they do not suspect untruth in others. Their next question was, “Have you got the price of a glass of beer about you?” I made them happy with a half crown, several times their modest request, and they stamped me as an American free with his money. I purchased a first-class ticket to London, and received the assurance that I should go through with the mail. I was the only passenger on the train of two coaches, besides the mail-van. It was late at night. The regular passenger-train had gone some hours before. Not being up in the English ways, I did not know how I might make myself comfortable, but sat up all night, dozing as I could. I did not sleep after two o’clock. In that high latitude it was already light enough to see fairly well.
After that hour the railroad ran through a farming country all the way to Dublin. I was amused with the queer shapes of the fields. These were generally small, and running into sharp corners, regardless of convenience in cultivation. They were separated always by hedges and ditches. A ditch was dug some two feet deep and three or four feet wide, the dirt was thrown up into a bank to correspond on one side, and on this bank was planted a hedge of hawthorn—“quick-set” they commonly called it. These hedges were of all ages, from those young and well kept to those in all stages of growth and dilapidation. I could have passed everywhere from field to field through breaks in the hedges, sometimes wide ones. I could not see of what use they were except for hunters to jump over. Saw occasionally a laborer’s cabin, sometimes a group of them. When an Irishman came out to sun himself, he always stood higher than the eaves of his thatched roof. Occasionally a more pretentious house would appear. These were all alike, painted white, full of windows, very thin from front to back, and looked like waffles set on edge. Never did I see a tree or a bush about a house to relieve the appearance of barrenness, but there were often small trees in the hedge-rows.
The railway station on one side of Dublin was about four miles from the station on the opposite side, from which a short railway ran to Kingston, a point a little distance south of Dublin, from which the channel boats crossed to Holyhead. There being no other means of conveyance, I rode through Dublin in an open van sitting on the mail-bags. At the Kingston station an empty train stood waiting for the mails. The regular passenger-train had gone some time before, but the boat at Kingston was also waiting for the mail. I got into a carriage, having ordered my trunk put into the baggage-van, but was ordered out by the guard. I showed him my ticket, and was told that I would have to see the superintendent. That official appeared, and told me this train was for the mails. It had an empty passenger-coach. I showed him my ticket and told him the assurance on which I had bought it, that I should go through with the mails. He replied that the passenger-train had gone, I should have been here to take it. Said he was very sorry, but it was impossible. I got mad. My trunk stood on the platform. As nobody would touch it, I took it up and put it into the open door of the baggage-van myself. The superintendent ordered two men to take it out, which they did. I told him of my great anxiety to reach London that afternoon. All the reply he made was to repeat that he was very sorry, but it was impossible, and I was compelled to stand there and see that train move off, and fool away the whole day in Dublin. Does the reader want to know what the matter was? If he does not know already, he is as green as I was. I had not given the superintendent two and sixpence. But I had more yet to learn about England and the English, and much more serious.
CHAPTER VI
Arrival in London. Conditions I found there. Preparations and Start.