Development is still being maintained; new territories are being conquered. A new long and sinuous arm, 3,556 miles from end to end, is being stretched out from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, to bring the eastern into direct touch with the western seaboard. The whole has grown from the insignificant little wooden road that was laid between La Prairie and St. John’s in the Province of Quebec eighty years ago.
CHAPTER V
THE FIRST TRANS-CONTINENTAL ACROSS THE UNITED STATES
“There were difficulties from end to end: from high and steep mountains; from snows; from deserts where there was a scarcity of water, and from gorges and flats where there was an excess; difficulties from cold and heat; from a scarcity of timber and from obstructions of rock; difficulties in keeping a large force on a long line; from Indians; and from want of labour.”
This was the terse story related to the United States Congress by Collis P. Huntington, one of the moving spirits of what, at that time, was a tremendous undertaking—the construction of the first railway across North America whereby the Atlantic was linked with the Pacific by a bond of steel. But that concise statement concealed one of the most romantic stories in the history of railway engineering: of grim battles every hour either against the hostile forces of nature or of mankind.
It was in 1863 that the first sod was turned in the construction of the first line which was destined to bring San Francisco within 120 hours’ journey of New York, and which changed completely the whole stream of traffic flowing round one-half of the northern hemisphere. But for some years before the spade was driven into the earth to signal the commencement of this enterprise, the idea had been contemplated and discussed in a more or less academic manner. It was such a vast scheme, the commercial possibilities of success appeared so slender that the most daring financiers of that day shrank from fathering it. Capitalists concluded that they might just as well pour their money down a well as to sink it in such a project as this.
The public, however, regarded the idea from a totally different standpoint. East wanted to shake hands with the west over the mighty mountains and vast plains. To pass from New York to San Francisco, or in the reverse direction, in those days was a perilous journey. One either had to make a protracted and dangerous voyage down one side of the American continent, round Cape Horn, and pass up the opposite coast-line for some 10,000 miles; to brave the peril of traversing the fever-ridden Central American Isthmus; or to embark upon an overland journey of some 3,000 miles through country where long stretches of parched, waterless desert gave way to lofty, snow-capped mountains, with the Indians in open warfare.
When California seethed in the famous Gold Rush, and adventurers flocked to this magnetic hub from all parts of the world, the absence of a connecting link was experienced to an acute degree. The gold-fever-stricken pioneers had to gain their objective as best they could, and with the best means of locomotion they could afford. In a single year 100,000 gold-seekers trailed across the continent.
The traffic produced by the discovery of gold set Collis P. Huntington thinking. Here was a heavy volume of traffic slipping through the fingers. Why should it not be handled by a railway? This was his argument, and as he was a dreamer of commercial conquest, though not in an idle manner, he decided to remedy the deficiency. Looking into the future, he saw that a line not only would meet the immediate demands born of the gold rush, but that it would develop into a great highway between Europe and the East, as well as the Antipodes. He discussed the idea with kindred spirits, Leland Stanford and Thomas C. Durant, and they became enthused with the project. But the question was how to obtain the money requisite for construction? To appeal to the public was useless, and no assistance could be anticipated from the financial world. So they approached the Government, and their endeavours proved so successful that the country decided to subsidise the undertaking.
When the Government’s sympathy had been secured in a practical manner, the next step was to discover an engineer who could superintend the survey and conduct constructional operations. The country did not possess many Stephensons, and the work in contemplation was of such an unprecedented character that no ordinary engineer would prove equal to the task. Happily, however, there was in San Francisco a railway engineering genius whose ability was being wasted for lack of opportunity. This man was Theodore D. Judah. He was a born engineer, and his skill in railway engineering had achieved a peculiar distinction up and down the Pacific coast. This work was his sole hobby, and the greater the difficulties to be overcome, the more enthusiastically and determinedly he threw himself into the task. His efforts in this direction were so strenuous that he was regarded generally as a crank, and his great dreams of railway conquest provided a continual source of amusement. He was always diving into the mountains, reconnoitring the passes with a view to their suitability for carrying the steel highway, and openly admitting that his greatest ambition in life was to be given the chance to lift the metals over the gaunt Sierras frowning upon the Pacific coast, and to drop them on to the plains rolling eastwards from the opposite slopes.