Records Of A Girlhood Volume 1 (1 Of 2) by Frances Ann Kemble (most popular novels of all time TXT) 📖

Tame Dragon Flew Panting Along His

Iron Pathway With Us, Passed The First Reading Of The "Arabian Nights,"

The Incidents Of Which It Almost Seemed To Recall. He Was Wonderfully

Condescending And Kind In Answering All The Questions Of My Eager

Ignorance, And I Listened To Him With Eyes Brimful Of Warm Tears Of

Sympathy And Enthusiasm, As He Told Me Of All His Alternations Of Hope

And Fear, Of His Many Trials And Disappointments, Related With Fine

Scorn How The "Parliament Men" Had Badgered And Baffled Him With Their

Book-Knowledge, And How, When At Last They Thought They Had Smothered

The Irrepressible Prophecy Of His Genius In The Quaking Depths Of

Chatmoss, He Had Exclaimed, "Did Ye Ever See A Boat Float On Water? I

Will Make My Road Float Upon Chatmoss!" The Well-Read Parliament Men

(Some Of Whom, Perhaps, Wished For No Railways Near Their Parks And

Pleasure-Grounds) Could Not Believe The Miracle, But The Shrewd

Liverpool Merchants, Helped To Their Faith By A Great Vision Of Immense

Gain, Did; And So The Railroad Was Made, And I Took This Memorable Ride

By The Side Of Its Maker, And Would Not Have Exchanged The Honor And

Pleasure Of It For One Of The Shares In The Speculation.

 

                                               LIVERPOOL, August 26th.

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     MY DEAR H----,

 

     A Common Sheet Of Paper Is Enough For Love, But A Foolscap Extra

     Can Alone Contain A Railroad And My Ecstasies. There Was Once A

     Man, Who Was Born At Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, Who Was A Common

     Coal-Digger; This Man Had An Immense Constructiveness, Which

     Displayed Itself In Pulling His Watch To Pieces And Putting It

     Together Again; In Making A Pair Of Shoes When He Happened To Be

     Some Days Without Occupation; Finally--Here There Is A Great Gap In

     My Story--It Brought Him In The Capacity Of An Engineer Before A

     Committee Of The House Of Commons, With His Head Full Of Plans For

     Constructing A Railroad From Liverpool To Manchester. It So

     Happened That To The Quickest And Most Powerful Perceptions And

     Conceptions, To The Most Indefatigable Industry And Perseverance,

     And The Most Accurate Knowledge Of The Phenomena Of Nature As They

     Affect His Peculiar Labors, This Man Joined An Utter Want Of The

     "Gift Of The Gab;" He Could No More Explain To Others What He Meant

     To Do And How He Meant To Do It, Than He Could Fly; And Therefore

     The Members Of The House Of Commons, After Saying, "There Is Rock

     To Be Excavated To A Depth Of More Than Sixty Feet, There Are

     Embankments To Be Made Nearly To The Same Height, There Is A Swamp

     Of Five Miles In Length To Be Traversed, In Which If You Drop An

     Iron Rod It Sinks And Disappears: How Will You Do All This?" And

     Receiving No Answer But A Broad Northumbrian "I Can't Tell You How

     I'll Do It, But I Can Tell You I _Will_ Do It," Dismissed

     Stephenson As A Visionary. Having Prevailed Upon A Company Of

     Liverpool Gentlemen To Be Less Incredulous, And Having Raised Funds

     For His Great Undertaking, In December Of 1826 The First Spade Was

     Struck Into The Ground. And Now I Will Give You An Account Of My

     Yesterday's Excursion. A Party Of Sixteen Persons Was Ushered, Into

     A Large Court-Yard, Where, Under Cover, Stood Several Carriages Of

     A Peculiar Construction, One Of Which Was Prepared For Our

     Reception. It Was A Long-Bodied Vehicle With Seats Placed Across

     It, Back To Back; The One We Were In Had Six Of These Benches, And

     Was A Sort Of Uncovered _Char À Banc_. The Wheels Were Placed Upon

     Two Iron Bands, Which Formed The Road, And To Which They Are

     Fitted, Being So Constructed As To Slide Along Without Any Danger

     Of Hitching Or Becoming Displaced, On The Same Principle As A Thing

     Sliding On A Concave Groove. The Carriage Was Set In Motion By A

     Mere Push, And, Having Received, This Impetus, Rolled With Us Down

     An Inclined Plane Into A Tunnel, Which Forms The Entrance To The

     Railroad. This Tunnel Is Four Hundred Yards Long (I Believe), And

     Will Be Lighted By Gas. At The End Of It We Emerged From Darkness,

     And, The Ground Becoming Level, We Stopped. There Is Another Tunnel

     Parallel With This, Only Much Wider And Longer, For It Extends From

     The Place Which We Had Now Reached, And Where The Steam-Carriages

     Start, And Which Is Quite Out Of Liverpool, The Whole Way Under The

     Town, To The Docks. This Tunnel Is For Wagons And Other Heavy

     Carriages; And As The Engines Which Are To Draw The Trains Along

     The Railroad Do Not Enter These Tunnels, There Is A Large Building

     At This Entrance Which Is To Be Inhabited By Steam-Engines Of A

     Stationary Turn Of Mind, And Different Constitution From The

     Traveling Ones, Which Are To Propel The Trains Through The Tunnels

     To The Terminus In The Town, Without Going Out Of Their Houses

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     Themselves. The Length Of The Tunnel Parallel To The One We Passed

     Through Is (I Believe) Two Thousand Two Hundred Yards. I Wonder If

     You Are Understanding One Word I Am Saying All This While! We Were

     Introduced To The Little Engine Which Was To Drag Us Along The

     Rails. She (For They Make These Curious Little Fire-Horses All

     Mares) Consisted Of A Boiler, A Stove, A Small Platform, A Bench,

     And Behind The Bench A Barrel Containing Enough Water To Prevent

     Her Being Thirsty For Fifteen Miles,--The Whole Machine Not Bigger

     Than A Common Fire-Engine. She Goes Upon Two Wheels, Which Are Her

     Feet, And Are Moved By Bright Steel Legs Called Pistons; These Are

     Propelled By Steam, And In Proportion As More Steam Is Applied To

     The Upper Extremities (The Hip-Joints, I Suppose) Of These Pistons,

     The Faster They Move The Wheels; And When It Is Desirable To

     Diminish The Speed, The Steam, Which Unless Suffered To Escape

     Would Burst The Boiler, Evaporates Through A Safety-Valve Into The

     Air. The Reins, Bit, And Bridle Of This Wonderful Beast Is A Small

     Steel Handle, Which Applies Or Withdraws The Steam From Its Legs Or

     Pistons, So That A Child Might Manage It. The Coals, Which Are Its

     Oats, Were Under The Bench, And There Was A Small Glass Tube

     Affixed To The Boiler, With Water In It, Which Indicates By Its

     Fullness Or Emptiness When The Creature Wants Water, Which Is

     Immediately Conveyed To It From Its Reservoirs. There Is A Chimney

     To The Stove, But As They Burn Coke There Is None Of The Dreadful

     Black Smoke Which Accompanies The Progress Of A Steam Vessel. This

     Snorting Little Animal, Which I Felt Rather Inclined To Pat, Was

     Then Harnessed To Our Carriage, And, Mr. Stephenson Having Taken Me

     On The Bench Of The Engine With Him, We Started At About Ten Miles

     An Hour. The Steam-Horse Being Ill Adapted For Going Up And Down

     Hill, The Road Was Kept At A Certain Level, And Appeared Sometimes

     To Sink Below The Surface Of The Earth, And Sometimes To Rise Above

     It. Almost At Starting It Was Cut Through The Solid Rock, Which

     Formed A Wall On Either Side Of It, About Sixty Feet High. You

     Can't Imagine How Strange It Seemed To Be Journeying On Thus,

     Without Any Visible Cause Of Progress Other Than The Magical

     Machine, With Its Flying White Breath And Rhythmical, Unvarying

     Pace, Between These Rocky Walls, Which Are Already Clothed With

     Moss And Ferns And Grasses; And When I Reflected That These Great

     Masses Of Stone Had Been Cut Asunder To Allow Our Passage Thus Far

     Below The Surface Of The Earth, I Felt As If No Fairy Tale Was Ever

     Half So Wonderful As What I Saw. Bridges Were Thrown From Side To

     Side Across The Top Of These Cliffs, And The People Looking Down

     Upon Us From Them Seemed Like Pigmies Standing In The Sky. I Must

     Be More Concise, Though, Or I Shall Want Room. We Were To Go Only

     Fifteen Miles, That Distance Being Sufficient To Show The Speed Of

     The Engine, And To Take Us On To The Most Beautiful And Wonderful

     Object On The Road. After Proceeding Through This Rocky Defile, We

     Presently Found Ourselves Raised Upon Embankments Ten Or Twelve

     Feet High; We Then Came To A Moss, Or Swamp, Of Considerable

     Extent, On Which No Human Foot Could Tread Without Sinking, And Yet

     It Bore The Road Which Bore Us. This Had Been The Great

     Stumbling-Block In The Minds Of The Committee Of The House Of

     Commons; But Mr. Stephenson Has Succeeded In Overcoming It. A

     Foundation Of Hurdles, Or, As He Called It, Basket-Work, Was Thrown

     Over The Morass, And The Interstices Were Filled With Moss And

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     Other Elastic Matter. Upon This The Clay And Soil Were Laid Down,

     And The Road Does Float, For We Passed Over It At The Rate Of Five

     And Twenty Miles An Hour, And Saw The Stagnant Swamp Water

     Trembling On The Surface Of The Soil On Either Side Of Us. I Hope

     You Understand Me. The Embankment Had Gradually Been Rising Higher

     And Higher, And In One Place, Where The Soil Was Not Settled Enough

     To Form Banks, Stephenson Had Constructed Artificial Ones Of

     Wood-Work, Over Which The Mounds Of Earth Were Heaped, For He Said

     That Though The Wood-Work Would Rot, Before It Did So The Banks Of

     Earth Which Covered It Would Have Been Sufficiently Consolidated To

     Support The Road.

 

     We Had Now Come Fifteen Miles, And Stopped Where The Road Traversed

     A Wide And Deep Valley. Stephenson Made Me Alight And Led Me Down

     To The Bottom Of This Ravine, Over Which, In Order To Keep His Road

     Level, He Has Thrown A Magnificent Viaduct