When the Margate steamboat, with its six hours’ journey, superseded the Margate hoy, which occupied almost as many days, the coach proprietors, under the idea that Margate was their peculiar property, and its visitors their particular prey, petitioned Parliament to support the coaches, at the expense of the steamers. A century and a half since, it was thought a great effort to run a coach between Edinburgh and Glasgow in three days; it is now done in one hour; and, only a century since, it occupied thirty-six hours in doing that which is now accomplished in four. Although this tediousness of transit was partially owing to what were by courtesy called roads, it must be remembered that then, as now, there were the prejudices of the people with which to contend; and, perfectly content with the existing state of things, the country gentlemen were most strenuous in their objections to the introduction of stage-coaches, on the plea that their wives would lose their domestic habits through travelling too frequently, and cease to be worthy housewives to the squirarchy of England.[5]

The floor of the House of Commons was covered with memorials from inkeepers and petitions from postboys. They merely indicated the selfishness of the memorialists, tired the patience of the senators, and wasted the time of the nation. But petitions in favor of “no progress” were not the only mode of opposition. When the Lea was made navigable, the farmers became furious, broke down the banks, and injured the river. Still, with the progress of the nation, the roads continued to improve. Transit became easier, more rapid, and cheaper; and just as the world was congratulating itself on the perfection of its highways, a new plan was proposed.

It soon became public, that a strange, eccentric nobleman, known as the Duke of Bridgewater, had a queer crotchet in his head to create a water-carriage, by cutting canals. It began also to be rumored, that this same eccentric Duke, seriously determined to finish what he had commenced, had reduced his personal expenses to £400 per annum, and given up the remainder of his rental to carry out his project. The many had no hesitation in declaring him insane; but his Grace scarcely thought of their opinions as he proceeded with his task; and the remarkable firmness of the Duke of Bridgewater, aided by the great mind of John Brindley, his architect, produced an effect which has already survived the pecuniary results at which he aimed. It is impossible in the present volume to do justice to the resolute character of the Duke, or to the obstacles overcome by the skill of Mr. Brindley. Stupendous mounds of earth were removed, which seemed to demand Titanic power; supplies of water were procured sufficient to exhaust mountain springs and mountain rivulets; aqueducts were built far above the surface of the river, rivalling those which conveyed water to the Eternal City from the mountain recesses.

At last the prejudices of the ignorant multitude were uprooted, and the scientific few delighted. They who had gone to scoff remained to praise; and an engineer, who had sneeringly said they had heard of castles in the air, but now they were to see them realized, began to wonder as much at his own opposition as at the simple grandeur of the work he had derided. The chief business of the Duke’s agent was to ride about the country, borrowing money on the promissory notes of his Grace, whose bond for £500 was refused in the city, where great purposes are little regarded unless they promise a great percentage.

In five years the attempt was crowned with success, and the effect upon commerce became manifest. Liverpool received the manufactures of Manchester at a cheaper rate, and Manchester was supplied with goods from places hitherto comparatively inaccessible. The neighbouring woods and vales were visited by the pale denizen of the factory on the day of rest; and passengers were enabled to travel along that canal which they owed to the patient endurance and undeviating firmness of Francis, Duke of Bridgewater, and to the singular ability of his unrivalled architect, to both of whom personal comfort and public praise were nothing in comparison with the achievement of a great idea.

But a new power was in progress, which was to realize all the visions of a day-dreamer, and almost to annihilate both time and space. The progress and development of railways is one of the most interesting features in locomotion. About 1646, a Mr. Beaumont was ruined in attempting to convey coals in carriages of a novel construction. The necessity of some improvement in the conveyance of this article was, therefore, thus early recognized. Thirty years afterwards, a saving of thirty per cent. was effected by some tram-roads near Newcastle; and as information spread, and the great dogma that time is money began to be appreciated, further improvements were made. The wooden roller of the wagon was changed for an iron wheel with cast-iron rails. Plenty of claimants were found for this imperfect alteration, although soon after it was necessary to adopt a rail fixed a few inches above the ground. The next improvement was that which detached the horse, and made him follow the wagon; and when the road was constructed with two inclines, so that a descending train of loaded coal might draw up an empty one, it was thought that all which human ingenuity could effect had been achieved; and at this point it is probable the rail would have remained, but for the great discovery of steam-power, and its application to practical purposes. About 1760, coeval with the introduction of iron rails, Watt entertained the idea of employing steam as a moving power; but the design was abandoned; nor was it till 1802 that the attention of engineers was devoted to locomotive engines on railroads; when a patent was taken out, and the principle tested with success at Merthyr Tydvil.[6]

The name of Thomas Gray in connection with railroads ranks at present among the many whose ideas were derided by the very men who afterwards adopted them. From an early period he formed the opinion that railways would become the principal mode of transit. It was his thought by day; it was his dream by night. He talked of it until his friends voted him an intolerable bore. He wrote of it until the reviewers deemed him mad. Coaches, canals, and steamboats were, in his mind, useless. His wisdom and far ken shadowed forth the path which the purse of others consummated; and, while the projector died steeped to the lips in poverty, the speculators realized great profits. His conversation was of a world which his companions could not comprehend. To appropriate the idea of Mr. Macaulay, there were fools then as there are fools now; fools who laughed at the railway as they had laughed at the canals; fools who thought they evinced their wisdom by doubting what they could not understand. For years his mind was absorbed by these dreams; and there was something magnificent in all his projects. He talked of enormous fortunes realized; of coaches annihilated; of one great general line;—and he was laughed at. He went to Brussels; and when a canal was proposed, he again advocated railways. At last he put his thoughts into form; wrote “Observations on a Railroad for the Whole of Europe”; and was ridiculed; the work being suppressed, lest men should call him mad. In 1820, however, he published a book which he called, “A general Iron Railway, or Land Steam Conveyance,” which attracted great notice. There was something so pertinacious in the man, and something so simple in his scheme, that, though it became the custom to laugh at him, his book went through many editions. When from Belgium he came to England, true to his theme, he went among the Manchester capitalists. The men who passed their lives among, and owed their fortunes to the marvels of machinery, were not yet equal to this. They listened graciously, and with a smile, something akin to pity, dismissed him as an incorrigible visionary. But opposition was vain; nor was Thomas Gray the man to be easily laughed down. He continued his labors, he continued to talk, to memorialize, to petition, to fill the pages of magazines, until the public mind was wearied and worried.

The first result of Gray’s great scheme was with the capital of those men who had previously derided him. The men of Manchester found they were paying too much for the cost of conveyance, and availed themselves of the idea they formerly denounced. A railway was projected between Liverpool and Manchester, and then commenced that ignorant opposition, of which one of the blue books contains such pregnant proof. By this it appears clearly that the transit between Liverpool and Manchester had long been insufficient. It was stated in evidence, that places were bespoke for goods, like places at a theatre. “It is not your turn yet,” was a common reply, if extraordinary energy were required; and it was clearly proved that the monopolizers would only send as much cotton as they chose, arbitrarily fixing the quantity at thirty bags a week. The fifty-five miles by canal occupied as long as the distance to New York. The boats were too few to convey the goods; and on one canal the proprietors received for their yearly dividend the amount of their original investment. In vain were the agents importuned to render conveyance more rapid and less expensive. The monopoly remained with the owner of the canal, who, blinded by a long course of success, could not see that, with the increase of business, an increased communication must be opened; and it is singular that, when the railroad was first contemplated, and its promoters applied to the agent to take some shares, an answer worthy of an autocratic government rather than a commercial age was given, of “all or none.” The shrewd merchants of the North chose the latter alternative.

The difficulties, therefore, with which the new invention had to contend, were legion; and the Parliamentary inquiry, already alluded to, produced one of the most remarkable blue books ever published. A few extracts from the folio will evince the extraordinary ideas entertained on the subject, the extraordinary ignorance evinced by men regarded as scientific, and the yet more extraordinary prejudice which marked the progress of opinion on railway transit. It is, however, right to say, that the friends and foes of the proposed scheme were equally unscrupulous in their endeavours to forward their interests, as levels were taken without permission, strawberry-beds destroyed, cornfields trodden down, and surveys taken by night, at the risk of life and limb. On the other hand, guns were discharged at the intruders; the land was watched incessantly; and the enthusiasm of the great engineer of the line narrowly escaped being cooled in a horsepond.

The objections urged by the opponents of the railway were worthy their cause. It was contended by them that canal conveyance was quicker; that the smoke of the engines would injure the plantations of gentlemen’s houses; and one witness, more imaginative than perceptive, described the locomotives as “terrible things,” although, on further questioning, he admitted he had never seen one. It was boldly declared, that a gale of wind would stop the progress of the carriage; that there would be no more practical advantage in a railway than in a canal; that Mr. Stephenson was totally devoid of common sense; that the plan was erroneous, impracticable, and unjust; and that the tendency of the railway would be to increase the price of carriage. It was declared to be based on fraud and folly; that balloons and rockets were as feasible, and that the whole line would be under water for two and three weeks in succession.