The British war against the Burmese was nearly over. Early in the year the British forces left at Rangoon advanced up the river Irawaddy toward Donabew. The first attempt to take this stronghold was repulsed, whereupon Burmese reverses the British settled down to a regular siege. While trying to get the range with their mortars the gunners succeeded in killing Bundula, the chieftain of the Burmese. His brother flinched from the command of the army and was promptly beheaded. The Burmese forces went to pieces. The British proceeded to Prome, and inflicted another crushing defeat on the remaining detachments of the Burmese army. At the approach of the British column the Burmese rulers at Ava became frantic. All the demented women that could be found in and about Ava were gathered together and conducted to the front that they might bewitch the English. When this measure proved ineffectual, Prince Tharawadi tried to stem the British approach, but could not get his New British acquisitions followers to face the enemy. All the country from Rangoon to Ava was under British control. The Burmese came to terms. As a result of the conflict the territories of Assam, Arrakan and Tenaserim were ceded to the British.
While the British were still in the midst of this campaign a crisis occurred in Bhurtpore. The sudden death of the Rajah there left no successor to the throne but an infant son of seven. He was proclaimed Rajah under the guardianship of his uncle. A cousin of the dead king won over the army of Bhurtpore, and putting the uncle to death imprisoned the little Crisis in Bhurtpore Rajah. Sir David Ochterlony, the aged British Resident at Delhi, interfered in behalf of the little prince and advanced British troops into Bhurtpore. His measures were repudiated by Lord Amherst. Sir David took the rebuff so much to heart that he resigned his appointment. Within two months after his retirement the old soldier died in bitterness of soul. The sequel vindicated his judgment. In defiance of the British Government, the usurper of Bhurtpore rallied around him all the dissatisfied spirits of the Mahrattas, Pindarees, Jats and Rajputs. Lord Amherst was forced to retreat to Vera. The British army under Lord Combermere crossed the border and pushed through to Summary British dealings Bhurtpore. The heavy mud walls of the capital had to be breached with mines. The usurper was deposed and put out of harm's way in a British prison. With the restoration of the infant Prince in Bhurtpore, all danger of another great Indian rising seemed at end.
SOLFERINO
Painted by E. Meissonier From Carbon Print by Braun, Clement & Co., N.Y.
At home in England it was a period of unprecedented scientific and industrial development. Following Faraday's recent conversion of the electric current into mechanical motion, Sturgeon invented the prototype of The first railway the electro-magnet. The first public railway for steam locomotives was opened between Stockton and Darlington by Edward Peese and George Stephenson—an innovation which caused great excitement throughout England. On the opening day, September 27, an immense concourse of people assembled along the line to see the train go by. Nearly every one prophesied that the "iron horse" would be a failure. The train weighed about ninety English tons, and consisted of six wagons loaded with coal and flour, then a covered coach containing directors and proprietors, with twenty-one coal wagons fitted up for invited passengers, nearly 600 in number. Stephenson's engine, named the "Locomotion," had a ten-foot boiler and weighed not quite 1,500 pounds. As six miles an hour was supposed to be the limit of speed, it was arranged that a man on horseback should ride on the track ahead of the engine carrying a flag. The train was started without difficulty amid cheers. Many tried to keep up with it by running, and some gentlemen on horseback galloped across the fields to accompany the train. After a few minutes, Stephenson shouted to the horseman with the flag to get out of the way, for he was going to "let her go." Ordering the fireman to "keep her hot, lad," he opened wide the throttle-valve and the speed was quickly raised to twelve miles an hour and then to fifteen.
The runners on foot, the gentlemen on horseback and the horseman with the Stephenson's practical demonstration flag were left far behind. So, with the cross-beams and side-rods trembling from the violent motion, the red-hot chimney ejecting clouds of black smoke, amid the cheers of the delighted spectators and to the astonishment of the passengers—the immortal George Stephenson brought his train safely into Darlington.
As the "Newcastle Courant" (October 1, 1825) put it, "certainly the performance excited the astonishment of all present, and exceeded the most sanguine expectations of every one conversant with the subject. The engine arrived at Stockton in three hours and seven minutes after leaving Darlington, including stops, the distance being nearly twelve miles, which is at the rate of four miles an hour; and upon the level part of the railway, the number of passengers was counted about four hundred and fifty, and several more clung to the carriages on each side. At one time the passengers by the engine had the pleasure of accompanying and cheering their brother passengers by the stage coach, which passed alongside, and of observing the striking contrast exhibited by the power of the engine and of horses; the engine with her six hundred passengers and load, and the coach with four horses and only sixteen passengers."
So successful was the Stockton and Darlington railway that a bill was brought in Parliament for the construction of a railroad between Liverpool Immediate railroad development and Manchester after Stephenson's plan. The scheme was violently opposed. Its detractors, among whom were Lords Lefton and Derby, declared that Stephenson's locomotive would poison the air, kill the birds as they flew over them, destroy the preservation of pheasants, burn up the farms and homesteads near the lines; that oats and hay would become unsalable because horses would become extinct; travelling on the highways would become impossible; country inns would be ruined; boilers would burst and kill hundreds of passengers. Indeed, there was no peril imaginable that was not predicted to attend the working of a railroad by steam.
When Stephenson was examined by a Parliamentary committee, one of the members put this question: "Suppose, now, one of these engines to be going along a railroad at a rate of nine or ten miles an hour, and that a cow were to stray upon the line, and get in the way of the engine, would not that, think you, be a very awkward circumstance?" "Yaw," replied Stephenson, in his broad Northumbrian dialect, "ay, awkward—for the coo." On account of his speech Stephenson was denounced as a "foreigner," and the bill was thrown out by the committee, by a vote of 37 against 36. After a second Parliamentary battle, the bill was passed through both Houses by a majority of forty-seven votes. The passage of the act cost £27,000.