view, an argument against the rough and hilly course of a common road.
Although Stephenson’s locomotive engines were in daily use for many years on the Killingworth Railway, they excited comparatively little interest. They were no longer experimental, but had become an established tractive power. The experience of years had proved that they worked more steadily, drew heavier loads, and were, on the whole, considerably more economical than horses. Nevertheless eight years passed before another locomotive railway was constructed and opened for the purposes of coal or other traffic.
Stephenson had no means of bringing his important invention prominently under the notice of the public. He himself knew well its importance, and he already anticipated its eventual general adoption; but being an unlettered man, he could not give utterance to the thoughts which brooded within him on the subject. Killingworth Colliery lay far from London, the centre of scientific life in England. It was visited by no savans nor literary men, who might have succeeded in introducing to notice the wonderful machine of Stephenson. Even the local chroniclers seem to have taken no notice of the Killingworth Railway.
There seemed, indeed, to be so small a prospect of introducing the locomotive into general use, that Stephenson,—perhaps feeling the capabilities within him,—again recurred to his old idea of emigrating to the United States. Before joining Mr. Burrel as partner in a small foundry at Forth Banks, Newcastle, he had thrown out to him the suggestion that it would be a good speculation for them to emigrate to North America, and introduce steamboats upon the great inland lakes there. The first steamers were then plying upon the Tyne before his eyes; and he saw in them the germ of a great revolution in navigation. It occurred to him that North America presented the finest field for trying their wonderful powers. He was an engineer, his partner was an iron-founder; and between them he thought they might strike out a path to fortune in the
mighty West. Fortunately, this idea remained a mere speculation so far as Stephenson was concerned: and it was left to others to do what he had dreamt of achieving. After all his patient waiting, his skill, industry, and perseverance were at length about to bear fruit.
In 1819 the owners of the Hetton Colliery, in the county of Durham, determined to have their waggon-way altered to a locomotive railroad. The result of the working of the Killingworth Railway had been so satisfactory, that they resolved to adopt the same system. One reason why an experiment so long continued and so successful as that at Killingworth should have been so slow in producing results, perhaps was, that to lay down a railway and furnish it with locomotives, or fixed engines where necessary, required a very large capital, beyond the means of ordinary coal-owners; whilst the small amount of interest felt in railways by the general public, and the supposed impracticability of working them to a profit, as yet prevented ordinary capitalists from venturing their money in the promotion of such undertakings. The Hetton Coal Company were, however, possessed of adequate means; and the local reputation of the Killingworth engine-wright pointed him out as the man best calculated to lay out their line, and superintend their works. They accordingly invited him to act as the engineer of the proposed railway, which was to be the longest locomotive line that had, up to that time, been constructed. It extended from the Hetton Colliery, situated about two miles south of Houghton-le-Spring, in the county of Durham, to the shipping-places on the banks of the Wear, near Sunderland. Its length was about eight miles; and in its course it crossed Warden Law, one of the highest hills in the district. The character of the country forbade the construction of a flat line, or one of comparatively easy gradients, except by the expenditure of a much larger capital than was placed at the engineer’s disposal. Heavy works could not be executed; it was therefore necessary to form the line with but little deviation from the natural
conformation of the district which it traversed, and also to adapt the mechanical methods employed for its working to the character of the gradients, which in some places were necessarily heavy.
Although Stephenson had, with every step made towards its increased utility, become more and more identified with the success of the locomotive engine, he did not allow his enthusiasm to carry him away into costly mistakes. He carefully drew the line between the cases in which the locomotive could be usefully employed, and those in which stationary engines were calculated to be more economical. This led him, as in the instance of the Hetton Railway, to execute lines through and over rough countries, where gradients within the powers of the locomotive engine of that day could not be secured, employing in their stead stationary engines where locomotives were not practicable. In the present case, this course was adopted by him most successfully. On the original Hetton line, there were five self-acting inclines,—the full waggons drawing the empty ones up,—and two inclines worked by fixed reciprocating engines of sixty horse power each. The locomotive travelling engine, or “the iron horse,” as the people of the neighbourhood then styled it, did the rest. On the day of the opening of the Hetton Railway, the 18th November, 1822, crowds of spectators assembled from all parts to witness the first operations of this ingenious and powerful machinery, which was entirely successful. On that day five of Stephenson’s locomotives were at work upon the railway, under the direction of his brother Robert; and the first shipment of coal was then made by the Hetton Company, at their new staiths on the Wear. The speed at which the locomotives travelled was about 4 miles an hour, and each engine dragged after it a train of 17 waggons, weighing about 64 tons.
While thus advancing step by step,—attending to the business of the Killingworth Colliery, and laying out railways in the neighbourhood,—he was carefully watching
over the education of his son. We have already seen that Robert was sent to Bruce’s school at Newcastle, where he remained about four years. He left it in the summer of 1819, and was then put apprentice to Mr. Nicholas Wood, the head viewer at Killingworth, to learn the business of the colliery. He served in that capacity for about three years, during which time he became familiar with most departments of underground work. The occupation was not unattended with peril, as the following incident will show. Though the use of the Geordy lamp had become general in the Killingworth pits, and the workmen were bound, under a penalty of half-a-crown, not to use a naked candle, it was difficult to enforce the rule, and even the masters themselves occasionally broke it. One day Nicholas Wood, the head viewer, Moodie the under viewer, and Robert Stephenson, were proceeding along one of the galleries, Wood with a naked candle in his hand, and Robert following him with a lamp. They came to a place where a fall of stones from the roof had taken place, on which Wood, who was first, proceeded to clamber over the stones, holding high the naked candle. He had nearly reached the summit of the heap, when the fire-damp, which had accumulated in the hollow of the roof, exploded, and instantly the whole party were blown down, and the lights extinguished. They were a mile from the shaft, and quite in the dark. There was a rush of the workpeople from all quarters towards the shaft, for it was feared that the fire might extend to more dangerous parts of the pit, where, if the gas had exploded, every soul in the mine must inevitably have perished. Robert Stephenson and Moodie, on the first impulse, ran back at full speed along the dark gallery leading to the shaft, coming into collision, on their way, with the hind quarters of a horse stunned by the explosion. When they had gone halfway, Moodie halted, and bethought him of Nicholas Wood. “Stop, laddie!” said he to Robert, “stop; we maun gang back, and seek the maister.” So they retraced their steps. Happily, no further explosion had