Discoveries and Inventions of the Nineteenth Century

writer, giving an account of his journey to the Western States, writes thus: “Having unpacked your books and unstrapped your wraps in your Pullman or Central Pacific palace car, you may pursue all the sedentary avocations and amusements of a parlour at home; and as your housekeeping is done—and admirably done—for you by alert and experienced servants; as you may lie down at full length, or sit up, sleep, or wake at your choice; as your dinner is sure to be abundant, very tolerably cooked, and not hurried; as you are pretty certain to make acquaintances in the car; and as the country through which you pass is strange and abounds in curious and interesting sights, and the air is fresh and exhilarating—you soon fall into the ways of the voyage; and if you are a tired business man or a wearied housekeeper, your careless ease will be such a rest as certainly most busy and overworked Americans know how to enjoy. You write comfortably at a table in a little room called a ‘drawing-room,’ entirely closed off, if you wish it, from the remainder of the car, which room contains two large and comfortable armchairs and a sofa, two broad clean plate-glass windows on each side (which may be doubled if the weather is cold), hooks in abundance for shawls, hats, &c., and mirrors at every corner. Books and photographs lie on the table. Your wife sits at the window sewing and looking out on long ranges of snow-clad mountains or on boundless ocean-like plains. Children play on the floor or watch at the windows for the comical prairie dogs sitting near their holes, and turning laughable somersaults as the car sweeps by. The porter calls you at any hour you appoint in the morning; he gives half an hour’s notice of breakfast, dinner, or supper; and while you are at breakfast, your beds are made up and your room or your section aired. About eight o’clock in the evening—for, as at sea, you keep good hours—the porter, in a clean grey uniform, comes in to make up the beds. The two easy-chairs are turned into a berth; the sofa undergoes a similar transformation; the table, having its legs pulled together, disappears in a corner, and two shelves being let down furnish two other berths. The freshest and whitest of linen and brightly-coloured blankets complete the outfit; and you undress and go to bed as you would at home.” 113An important general truth may find a familiar illustration in the subject now under notice. The truth in question may be expressed by saying that, in all human affairs, as well as in the operations of nature, the state of things at any one time is the result, by a sort of growth, of a preceding state of things. And in this way it is certainly true of inventions, that they never make their appearance suddenly in a complete and finished state—like Minerva, who is fabled to have sprung from the brain of Jupiter fully grown and completely armed; but rather their history resembles the slow and progressive process by which ordinary mortals attain to their full stature. We have already seen that railways had their origin in the tramways of collieries; and, in like manner, the railway carriage grew out of the colliery truck and the stage coach; for when railway carriages to convey passengers were first made, it did not occur to their designers that anything better could be done than to place coach bodies on the frame of the truck; and accordingly the early railway carriages were formed by mounting the body of a stage coach, or two or three such bodies side by side, on the timber framework which was supported by the flanged wheels. The cut, Fig. 56, is from a painting in the possession of the Connecticut Historical Society, and it represents the first railway train in America on its trial trip (1831), in which sixteen persons took part, who were then thought not a little courageous. Here we see that the carriages were regular stage coaches, and the same was the case in England. But it is very significant that, to this day, the stage coach bodies are traceable in many of the carriages now running on English lines, especially in the first-class carriages, where, in the curved lines of the mouldings which are supposed to ornament the outside, one may easily recognize the forms of the curved bodies of the stage coaches, although there is nothing whatever, in the real framing of the timbers of the railway carriage, which has the most distant relation to these curves. Then again, almost universally on English lines, the old stage coach door-handles are still retained on the first-class carriages, in the awkward flat oval plates of brass which fold down with a hinge. Many other points might be named which would show the persistence of the stage coach type on the English railways. The cut, Fig. 56, proves that the Americans set out with the same style of carriages; but North America, as compared with the Old World, is par excellence the country of rapid developments, and there carriages, or cars, as our Transatlantic cousins call them, have for a long time been made with numerous improvements, and in forms more in harmony with the railway system, than the conservatism of English ideas, still cleaving to the stage coach type, permitted to be attempted in this country. Railway travellers in the United States had long enjoyed the benefit of comforts and convenience in the appointments of their carriages long before any change had been effected in the general arrangements of the vehicles provided by the railway companies in England. It is now indeed a considerable number of years since this state of things has been altered in the older country; as all the great lines, following the example of the Midland Company, who first adopted the Pullman cars, have constructed luxurious vehicles in which every elegance and comfort are placed within the reach of the English traveller, and these improvements are highly appreciated by all who have long journeys to make by day or night. The elegance and comfort of the arrangements are almost too obvious to require description. We see the luxuriously padded chairs, which, by turning on swivels, permit the traveller to adjust his position according to his individual wishes, so that he can, with ease, place his seat either to gaze 114directly on the passing landscape, or turn his face towards his fellow-travellers opposite or on either side. The chairs are also provided with an arrangement for placing the backs at any required inclination, and the light and refined character of the decorations of the carriage should not escape the reader’s notice. Pullman Cars of another kind, providing sleeping accommodation for night journeys, are also in use on the Midland line, and they are fitted up with the same thoughtful regard to comfort as the Parlour Car. The great engineering feats which have been accomplished in the construction of railways are numerous enough to fill volumes. We give, therefore, only a short notice of one or two recently constructed lines which have features of special interest, concluding with a brief account of such remarkable constructions as the railway by which the traveller may now go up the Rigi, and the railways which ascend Vesuvius and Mt. Pilatus. THE METROPOLITAN RAILWAYS. When the traffic in the streets of London became so great that the ordinary thoroughfares were unable to meet public requirements, the bold project was conceived of making a railway under the streets. The construction of a line of railway beneath the streets of a populous city, amidst a labyrinth of gas-pipes, water-mains, sewers, &c., is obviously an undertaking presenting features so remarkable that the London Underground Railway cannot here be passed over without a short notice. Its construction occupied about three years, and it was opened for traffic in 1863. The line commencing at Paddington, and passing beneath Edgware Road at right angles, reaches Marylebone Road, under the centre of which it proceeds, and passing beneath the houses at one end of Park Crescent, Portland Place, it follows the centre of Euston Road to King’s Cross, where connection with the Great Northern and Midland system is effected. Here the line bends sharply southwards, and proceeds to Farringdon Street Station, the original terminus. A subsequent extension takes an easterly direction and reaches Aldgate Station, the nominal terminus. The crown of the arch which covers the line is in some places only a few inches beneath the level of the streets; in other places it is several feet below the surface, and, in fact, beneath the foundations of the houses and other buildings. The steepest gradient on the line is 1 in 100, and the sharpest curve has a radius of 200 yards. The line is nearly all curved, there not being in all its length three-quarters of a mile of straight rails. The difficulties besetting an undertaking of this kind would be tedious to describe, but may readily be imagined. The line traverses every kind of soil—clay, gravel, sand, rubbish, all loosened by previous excavations for drains, pipes, foundations, &c.; and the arrangements of these drains, water and gas-pipes, had to be reconciled with the progress of the railway works, without their uses being interfered with even for a time. Of the stations the majority have roofs of the ordinary kind, open to the sky; but two of them, namely, Baker Street and Gower Street, are completely underground stations, and their roofs are formed by the arches of brickwork immediately below the streets. The arrangements at these stations show great boldness and 115inventiveness of design. The booking offices for the up line are on one side of the road, and those for the down line on the other. Fig. 50 represents the interior of the Gower Street Station, and the other is very similar. In each the platforms are 325 ft. long and 10 ft. broad, and the stations are lighted by lateral openings through the springing of the arch which forms the roof. This arch is a portion of a circle of 32 ft. radius, with a span of 45 ft. and a rise of 9 ft. at the crown. The lateral openings are arched at the top and bottom, but the sides are flat. The width of each is 4 ft. 9 in., and the height outside 6 ft., increasing to 10 ft. at the ends opening on the platform. The openings are entirely lined with white glazed tiles, and the outward ends open into an area, the back of which is inclined at an angle of 45°, and the whole also lined with white glazed tiles, and covered with glass, except where some iron gratings are provided for ventilation. The tiles reflect the daylight so powerfully that but little gas is required for the illumination of the station in the day-time. The arched roofs of these stations are supported by piers of brickwork, 10 ft. apart, 5 ft. 6 in. deep, and 3 ft. 9 in. wide. In the spaces between the piers vertical arches, like parts of the brick lining of a well, are wedged in, to resist the thrust of the earth, and a straight wall is built inside of this between the piers, to form the platform wall of the station. The tops of the piers are connected by arches, and are thus made to bear the weight of the arched roof, which has 2 ft. 3 in. thickness of brickwork at the crown, and a much greater thickness towards the haunches. Fig. 50.—Gower Street Station, Metropolitan Railway. The benefit derived by the public from the completion of the Metropolitan Railway was greatly increased by the subsequent construction of another railway—“The Metropolitan District,” which, joining the Metropolitan at Paddington, makes a circuit about the west-end of Hyde Park, and passing close to the Victoria Terminus of the London, Chatham, and Dover and the Brighton and South Coast Railways, reaches Westminster Bridge, and then follows the Thames