Steve and the Steam Engine Part 11

"I'll bet everybody was glad to disembark at Schenectady," declared Stephen.

"I'll wager they were! They must have been exhausted from being jounced and jostled about. Nevertheless the novelty of the adventure probably brought its own compensations, and they were doubtless diverted from their woes by the sight of the cheering and envious spectators, the terrified horses, and the open-mouthed children that greeted them wherever they went."

"But the promoters could hardly expect the public to be very keen for a steam railroad after such an exhibition," reflected Steve.

"Fortunately our forefathers were not as critical as you," said his father, "and in consequence the coach line from Albany to Schenectady was speedily supplanted by a steam railroad, as were the various coach lines into the interior of the State. As a result hundreds of broken-down coach horses were turned out to pasture, a merciful thing.

Gradually a series of short steam railway lines were constructed from one end of the State to the other, until in 1851 these were joined together to make a continuous route to Lake Erie. Perhaps we have only scant appreciation of the revolution that came with this advance in transportation. It meant the beginning of travel and commerce between the eastern States and those in the interior of the country; it also meant the speedy s.h.i.+pment of eastern products to the West, where they were greatly needed, and the reception of western commodities in the East. But more than all this, it signified a bond of fellows.h.i.+p between the scattered inhabitants of the same vast country who up to this time had been almost total strangers to one another, and was a mighty stride in the direction of national loyalty and sympathy. Therefore it was entirely seemly that Millard Fillmore, then President of the United States, and Daniel Webster, the Secretary of State, should be honored guests at the celebration that attended the opening of the railroad."

"Did the road reach no farther than Lake Erie?" asked Stephen.

"Not at first," replied his father. "From that point commerce was carried on by means of s.h.i.+ps on the Great Lakes. But in time western railroad companies began to build short stretches of track which later on they joined together as the other railroad builders had done."

"Did the line go all the way across the country?"

"Oh, no, indeed. Our trans-continental railroads were a mighty project in themselves and their story is a romance which I will tell you some other time. Before such stupendous enterprises could be realities, our young, young country had a vast deal of growing to do, and its infant railroads and engineering methods had to be greatly improved. So long as we still built roads where the rails were liable to come up through the floor and injure the pa.s.sengers, and where the tracks were not strongly enough constructed to resist floods and freshets, our steam locomotion could not expect any universal degree of popularity."

"I don't suppose, though, that the cows continued to tip the cars over and turn the pa.s.sengers out into the dirt as they did in the days of Peter Cooper," mused Steve thoughtfully.

"They may not have derailed the trains," his father replied quite seriously, "but they often did delay them. Nor could the pa.s.sengers be blamed for finding fault with the unheated cars, or the fact that sometimes, when it snowed hard, the engineer ran his engine under cover and refused to go on, leaving those on the train the choice of staying where they were until the storm abated or going on foot to their destination."

"Not really!"

"Yes, indeed. Such things happened quite frequently. Then there are stories of terrible gales when the snow piled up on the track until the engine had to be dug out, for snow plows did not keep the tracks clear then as they do now; nor was it an uncommon thing for the mud from the spring washouts to submerge the rails, in which case the engines had to be pulled out of the mire by oxen. In fact, at certain seasons of the year some trains carried oxen for this very purpose. For you must remember that the engines of that date were not powerful enough to make progress through mud, snow, or against fierce head winds. Often a strong gale would delay them for hours or bring them to a standstill altogether."

"Well, I guess it is no wonder we were not equipped to build a trans-continental road under such conditions," said the lad, with a quiet smile.

"Oh, these defects were only a minor part of our railroad tribulations,"

responded his father. "For example, when Pennsylvania started her first railroad the year after the line between New York and Schenectady was laid, there was a fresh chapter of obstacles. Strangely enough, the locomotive, 'Old Ironsides,' was built by Mr. M. W. Baldwin, whose name has since become celebrated as the founder of the Baldwin Locomotive Works. In 1832, however, the Baldwin locomotive was quite a different product from the present-day magnificently constructed steam engine.

This initial attempt at locomotive building was a queer little engine with wheels so light that unless there was plenty of ballast aboard it was impossible to keep it on the track; and besides that, the poor wee thing could not get up steam enough to start itself and in consequence Mr. Baldwin and some of his machinists were obliged to give it a violent push whenever it set out and then leap aboard when it was under way in order to weigh it down and keep it on the track."

"Imagine having to hold an engine down!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Steve, with amus.e.m.e.nt.

"The story simply goes to prove how much in the making locomotives really were," Mr. Tolman said. "And not only did this toy engine have to be started by a friendly push, but it was too feeble to generate steam fast enough to keep itself going after it was once on its way. Therefore every now and then the power would give out and Mr. Baldwin and his men would be forced to get out and run along beside the train, pus.h.i.+ng it as they went that it might keep up its momentum until a supply of steam could again be acquired. Can you ask for anything more primitive than that?"

"It certainly makes one realize the progress locomotive builders have made," the boy replied, with gravity.

"It certainly does," agreed his father. "Think how Baldwin and his men must have struggled first with one difficulty and then with another; think how they must have experimented and worked to perfect the tiny engine with which they began! It was the conquering of this mult.i.tude of defects that gave to the world the intricate, exquisitely made machine which at this very minute is pulling you and me into New York."

There was an interval of silence during which Stephen glanced out at the flying panorama framed by the window.

"Where was New England all this time?" demanded he, with jealous concern. "Didn't Ma.s.sachusetts do anything except build the old granite road at Quincy?"

"Railroads, for various reasons, were not popular in Ma.s.sachusetts,"

returned his father. "As usual New England was conservative and was therefore slow in waking up to the importance of steam transportation.

Boston was on the coast, you see, and had its s.h.i.+ps as well as the ca.n.a.l boats that connected the city with the manufacturing districts of the Merrimac. Therefore, although the question of building railroads was agitated in 1819 nothing was done about the matter. As was natural the ca.n.a.l company opposed the venture, and there was little enthusiasm elsewhere concerning a project that demanded a great outlay of money with only scant guarantee that any of it would ever come back to the capitalists who advanced it. Moreover, the public in general was sceptical about railroads or else totally uninterested in them. And even had a railroad been built at this time it would not have been a steam road for it was proposed to propel the cars by horse power just as those at Quincy had been."

"Oh!" interjected Steve scornfully. "They might at least have tried steam."

"People had little faith in it," explained Mr. Tolman. "Those who had the faith lacked the money to back the enterprise, and those who had the money lacked the faith. If a company could have gone ahead and built a steam railroad that was an unquestioned success many persons would undoubtedly have been convinced of its value and been willing to put capital into it; but as matters stood, there was so much antagonism against the undertaking that n.o.body cared to launch the venture. There were many business men who honestly regarded a steam railroad as a menace to property and so strong was this feeling that in 1824 the town of Dorchester, a village situated a short distance from Boston, actually took legal measures to prevent any railroad from pa.s.sing through its territory."

"They needn't have been so fussed," said Stephen, with a grin.

"Railroads weren't plenty enough to worry them!"

"Oh, the Quincy road was not the only railroad in Ma.s.sachusetts," his father a.s.serted quickly, "for in spite of opposition a railroad to Lowell, modeled to some extent after the old granite road, had been built. This railroad was constructed on stone ties, as the one at Quincy had been; for although such construction was much more costly it was thought at the time to be far more durable. Several years afterward, when experience had demonstrated that wood possessed more _give_, and that a hard, unyielding roadbed only creates jar, the granite ties that had cost so much were taken up and replaced by wooden ones."

"What a shame!"

"Thus do we live and learn," said his father whimsically. "Our blunders are often very expensive. The only redeeming thing about them is that we pa.s.s our experience on to others and save them from tumbling into the same pit. Thus it was with the early railroad builders. When the Boston and Providence Road was constructed this mistake was not repeated and a flexible wooden roadbed was laid. In the meantime a short steam railroad line had been built from Boston to Newton, a distance of seven miles, and gradually the road to this suburb was lengthened until it extended first to Natick and afterward to Worcester, a span of forty-four miles. Over this road, during fine weather, three trains ran daily; in winter there were but two. I presume nothing simpler or less pretentious could have been found than this early railroad whose trains were started at the ringing of a bell hung on a near-by tree. Although it took three hours to make a trip now made in one, the journey was considered very speedy, and unquestionably it was if travelers had to cover the distance by stagecoach. When we consider that in 1834 it took freight the best part of a week to get to Boston by wagons a three-hour trip becomes a miracle."

"I suppose there was not so much freight in those days anyway," Steve speculated.

"Fortunately not. People had less money and less leisure to travel, and therefore there were not so many trunks to be carried; I am not sure, too, but the frugal Americans of that day had fewer clothes to take with them when they did go. Then, as each town or district was of necessity more or less isolated, people knew fewer persons outside of their own communities, did a less extensive business, and had less incentive to go a-visiting. Therefore, although the Boston and Worcester Railroad could boast only two baggage cars (or burthen cars, as they were called), the supply was sufficient, which was fortunate, especially since the freight house in Boston was only large enough to shelter these two."

"And out of all this grew the Boston and Albany Railroad?" questioned the boy.

"Yes, although it was not until 1841, about eight years later, that the line was extended to New York State. By that time tracks had been laid through the Berks.h.i.+re hills, opening up the western part of Ma.s.sachusetts. The story of that first momentous fifteen-hour journey of the Boston officials to the New York capital, where they were welcomed and entertained by the Albany dignitaries, is picturesque reading indeed. One of the party who set out from Boston on that memorable day carried with him some spermaceti candles which on the delegates' arrival were burned with great ceremony at the evening dinner."

"I suppose it seemed a wonderful thing to reach Albany in fifteen hours," remarked Steve.

"It was like a fairy tale," his father answered. "To estimate the marvel to the full you must think how long it would have taken to drive the distance, or make the journey by water. Therefore the Boston officials burned their spermaceti candles in triumph; and the next day, when the Albany hosts returned to Boston with their guests, they symbolized the onrush of the world's progress by bringing with them a barrel of flour which had been cut, threshed, and ground only two days before, and put into a wooden barrel made from a tree which was cut down, sawed, and put together while the flour was being ground. This does not seem to us anything very astounding but it was a feat to stop the breath in those days."

"And what did they do with the flour?"

"Oh, that evening when they reached Boston the flour was made into some sort of bread which was served at the dinner the Boston men gave to their visitors."

"I wonder what they would have said if somebody had told them then that sometime people would be going from Boston to New York in five hours?"

the lad observed.

"I presume they would not have believed it," was the reply. "Nor would they have been able to credit tales of the great numbers of persons who would constantly be traveling between these two great cities. At that time so few people made the trip that it was very easy to keep track of them; and that they might be identified in case of accident the company retained a list of those who went on the trains. At first this rule worked very well, the pa.s.sengers being carefully tabulated, together with their place of residence; but later, when traffic began to increase and employees began to have more to do, those whose duty it was to make out these lists became hurried and careless and in the old railroad annals we read such entries as these:

"'_Woman in green bonnet; boy; stranger; man with side whiskers,_'

etc."

A peal of laughter broke from Stephen.

"Railroad officials would have some job to list pa.s.sengers now, wouldn't they?" he said. "We should all just have to wear identification tags as the men did during the War."

His father acquiesced whimsically.

"I have sometimes feared we might have to come to that, anyway," he replied. "With the sky populated with aeroplanes and the streets filled with automobiles man stands little chance in these days of preserving either his supremacy or his ident.i.ty. When we get on Fifth Avenue to-day you see if you do not agree with me," he added, as the train pulled into the big station.

CHAPTER VIII

NEW YORK AND WHAT HAPPENED THERE