Tapton House was included in the lease of one of the collieries, and as it was conveniently situated—being, as it were, a central point on the Midland Railway, from which he could readily proceed north or south, on his journeys of inspection of the various lines then under construction in the midland and northern counties,—he took up his residence there, and it continued his home until the close of his life.
Tapton House is a large roomy brick mansion, beautifully situated amidst woods, upon a commanding eminence, about a mile to the north-east of the town of Chesterfield. Green fields dotted with fine trees slope away from the
house in all directions. The surrounding country is undulating and highly picturesque. North and south the eye ranges over a vast extent of lovely scenery; and on the west, looking over the town of Chesterfield, with its church and crooked spire, the extensive range of the Derbyshire hills bounds the distance. The Midland Railway skirts the western edge of the park in a deep rock cutting, and the shrill whistle of the locomotive sounds near at hand as the trains speed past. The gardens and pleasure-grounds adjoining the house were in a very neglected state when Mr. Stephenson first went to Tapton; and he promised himself, when he had secured rest and leisure from business, that he would put a new face upon both. The first improvement he made was cutting a woodland footpath up the hill-side, by which he at the same time added a beautiful feature to the park, and secured a shorter road to the Chesterfield station. But it was some years before he found time to carry into effect his contemplated improvements in the adjoining gardens and pleasure-grounds. He had so long been accustomed to laborious pursuits, and felt himself still so full of work, that he could not at once settle down into the habit of quietly enjoying the fruits of his industry.
He had no difficulty in usefully employing his time. Besides directing the mining operations at Claycross, the establishment of the lime-kilns at Ambergate, and the construction of the extensive railways still in progress, he occasionally paid visits to Newcastle, where his locomotive manufactory was now in full work, and the proprietors were reaping the advantages of his early foresight in an abundant measure of prosperity. One of his most interesting visits to the place was in 1838, on the occasion of the meeting of the British Association there, when he acted as one of the Vice-Presidents in the section of Mechanical Science. Extraordinary changes had occurred in his own fortunes, as well as in the face of the country, since he had first appeared before a scientific body in Newcastle—the
members of the Literary and Philosophical Institute—to submit his safety-lamp for their examination. Twenty-three years had passed over his head, full of honest work, of manful struggle; and the humble “colliery engine-wright of the name of Stephenson” had achieved an almost worldwide reputation as a public benefactor. His fellow-townsmen, therefore, could not hesitate to recognise his merits and do honour to his name. During the sittings of the Association, Mr. Stephenson took the opportunity of paying a visit to Killingworth, accompanied by some of the distinguished savans whom he numbered amongst his friends. He there pointed out to them, with a degree of honest pride, the cottage in which he had lived for so many years, showed what parts of it had been his own handiwork, and told them the story of the sun-dial over the door, describing the study and the labour it had cost him and his son to calculate its dimensions, and fix it in its place. The dial had been serenely numbering the hours through the busy years that had elapsed since that humble dwelling had been his home; during which the Killingworth locomotive had become a great working power, and its contriver had established the railway system, which was now rapidly becoming extended in all parts of the world.
About the same time, his services were very much in request at the meetings of Mechanics’ Institutes held throughout the northern counties. From an early period in his history, he had taken an active interest in these institutions. While residing at Newcastle in 1824, shortly after his locomotive foundry had been started in Forth-street, he presided at a public meeting held in that town for the purpose of establishing a Mechanics’ Institute. The meeting was held; but as George Stephenson was a man comparatively unknown even in Newcastle at that time, his name failed to secure “an influential attendance.” Among those who addressed the meeting on the occasion was Joseph Locke, then his pupil, and afterwards his rival as an engineer. The local papers scarcely noticed the
proceedings; yet the Mechanics’ Institute was founded, and struggled into existence. Years passed, and it was now felt to be an honour to secure Mr. Stephenson’s presence at any public meetings held for the promotion of popular education. Among the Mechanics’ Institutes in his immediate neighbourhood at Tapton, were those of Belper and Chesterfield; and at their soirées he was a frequent and a welcome visitor. On these occasions he loved to tell his auditors of the difficulties which had early beset him through want of knowledge, and of the means by which he had overcome them. His grand text was—Persevere; and there was manhood in the very word.
On more than one occasion, the author had the pleasure of listening to George Stephenson’s homely but forcible addresses at the annual soirées of the Leeds Mechanics’ Institute. He was always an immense favourite with his audiences there. His personal appearance was greatly in his favour. A handsome, ruddy, expressive face, lit up by bright dark-blue eyes, prepared one for his earnest words when he stood up to speak and the cheers had subsided which invariably hailed his rising. He was not glib, but he was very impressive. And who, so well as he, could serve as a guide to the working man in his endeavours after higher knowledge? His early life had been all struggle—encounter with difficulty—groping in the dark after greater light, but always earnestly and perseveringly. His words were therefore all the more weighty, since he spoke from the fulness of his own experience.
Nor did he remain a mere inactive spectator of the improvements in railway working which increasing experience from day to day suggested. He continued to contrive improvements in the locomotive, and to mature his invention of the carriage-brake. When examined before the Select Committee on Railways in 1841, his mind seems principally to have been impressed with the necessity which existed for adopting a system of self acting brakes; stating that, in his opinion, this was the most important arrangement that
could be provided for increasing the safety of railway travelling. “I believe,” he said, “that if self-acting brakes were put upon every carriage, scarcely any accident could take place.” His plan consisted in employing the momentum of the running train to throw his proposed brakes into action, immediately on the moving power of the engine being checked. He would also have these brakes under the control of the guard, by means of a connecting line running along the whole length of the train, by which they should at once be thrown out of gear when necessary. At the same time he suggested, as an additional means of safety, that the signals of the line should be self-acting, and worked by the locomotives as they passed along the railway. He considered the adoption of this plan of so much importance, that, with a view to the public safety, he would even have it enforced upon railway companies by the legislature. At the same time he was of opinion that it was the interest of the companies themselves to adopt the plan, as it would save great tear and wear of engines, carriages, tenders, and brake-vans, besides greatly diminishing the risk of accidents upon railways.