Lives of the Engineers Part 4

[Picture: Newburn on the Tyne]

One of the old persons in the neighbourhood, who knew the family well, describes the dwelling in which they lived as a poor cottage of only one room, in which the father, mother, four sons, and two daughters, lived and slept. It was crowded with three low-poled beds. The one apartment served for parlour, kitchen, sleeping-room, and all.

The children of the Stephenson family were now growing apace, and several of them were old enough to be able to earn money at various kinds of colliery work. James and George, the two eldest sons, worked as a.s.sistant-firemen; and the younger boys worked as wheelers or pickers on the bank-tops. The two girls helped their mother with the household work.

Other workings of the coal were opened out in the neighbourhood; and to one of these George was removed as fireman on his own account. This was called the "Mid Mill Winnin," where he had for his mate a young man named Coe. They worked together there for about two years, by twelve-hour shifts, George firing the engine at the wage of a shilling a day. He was now fifteen years old. His ambition was as yet limited to attaining the standing of a full workman, at a man's wages; and with that view he endeavoured to attain such a knowledge of his engine as would eventually lead to his employment as an engineman, with its accompanying advantage of higher pay. He was a steady, sober, hard-working young man, but nothing more in the estimation of his fellow-workmen.

One of his favourite pastimes in by-hours was trying feats of strength with his companions. Although in frame he was not particularly robust, yet he was big and bony, and considered very strong for his age. At throwing the hammer George had no compeer. At lifting heavy weights off the ground from between his feet, by means of a bar of iron pa.s.sed through them-placing the bar against his knees as a fulcrum, and then straightening his spine and lifting them sheer up-he was also very successful. On one occasion he lifted as much as sixty stones weight-a striking indication of his strength of bone and muscle.

When the pit at Mid Mill was closed, George and his companion Coe were sent to work another pumping-engine erected near Throckley Bridge, where they continued for some months. It was while working at this place that his wages were raised to 12s. a week-an event to him of great importance.

On coming out of the foreman's office that Sat.u.r.day evening on which he received the advance, he announced the fact to his fellow-workmen, adding triumphantly "I am now a made man for life!"

The pit opened at Newburn, at which old Robert Stephenson worked, proving a failure, it was closed; and a new pit was sunk at Water-row, on a strip of land lying between the Wylam waggon-way and the river Tyne, about half a mile west of Newburn Church. A pumping engine was erected there by Robert Hawthorn, the Duke's engineer; and old Stephenson went to work it as fireman, his son George acting as the engineman or plugman. At that time he was about seventeen years old-a very youthful age at which to fill so responsible a post. He had thus already got ahead of his father in his station as a workman; for the plugman holds a higher grade than the fireman, requiring more practical knowledge and skill, and usually receiving higher wages.

George's duty as plugman was to watch the engine, to see that it kept well in work, and that the pumps were efficient in drawing the water.

When the water-level in the pit was lowered, and the suction became incomplete through the exposure of the suction-holes, it was then his duty to proceed to the bottom of the shaft and plug the tube so that the pump should draw: hence the designation of "plugman." If a stoppage in the engine took place through any defect which he was incapable of remedying, it was for him to call in the aid of the chief engineer to set it to rights.

But from the time when George Stephenson was appointed fireman, and more particularly afterwards as engineman, he applied himself so a.s.siduously and so successfully to the study of the engine and its gearing-taking the machine to pieces in his leisure hours for the purpose of cleaning and understanding its various parts-that he soon acquired a thorough practical knowledge of its construction and mode of working, and very rarely needed to call the engineer of the colliery to his aid. His engine became a sort of pet with him, and he was never wearied of watching and inspecting it with admiration.

Though eighteen years old, like many of his fellow-workmen, Stephenson had not yet learnt to read. All that he could do was to get some one to read for him by his engine fire, out of any book or stray newspaper which found its way into the neighbourhood. Buonaparte was then overrunning Italy, and astounding Europe by his brilliant succession of victories; and there was no more eager auditor of his exploits, as read from the newspaper accounts, than the young engineman at the Water-row Pit.

There were also numerous stray bits of information and intelligence contained in these papers, which excited Stephenson's interest. One of these related to the Egyptian method of hatching birds' eggs by means of artificial heat. Curious about everything relating to birds, he determined to test it by experiment. It was spring time, and he forthwith went a birdnesting in the adjoining woods and hedges. He gathered a collection of eggs of various sorts, set them in flour in a warm place in the engine-house, covering the whole with wool, and then waited the issue. The heat was kept as steady as possible, and the eggs were carefully turned every twelve hours, but though they chipped, and some of them exhibited well-grown chicks, they never hatched. The experiment failed, but the incident shows that the inquiring mind of the youth was fairly at work.

Modelling of engines in clay continued to be another of his favourite occupations. He made models of engines which he had seen, and of others which were described to him. These attempts were an improvement upon his first trials at Dewley Burn bog, when occupied there as a herd-boy. He was, however, anxious to know something of the wonderful engines of Boulton and Watt, and was told that they were to be found fully described in books, which he must search for information as to their construction, action and uses. But, alas! Stephenson could not read; he had not yet learnt even his letters.

Thus he shortly found, when gazing wistfully in the direction of knowledge, that to advance further as a skilled workman, he must master this wonderful art of reading-the key to so many other arts. Only thus could he gain an access to books, the depositories of the wisdom and experience of the past. Although a grown man, and doing the work of a man, he was not ashamed to confess his ignorance, and go to school, big as he was, to learn his letters. Perhaps, too, he foresaw that, in laying out a little of his spare earnings for this purpose, he was investing money judiciously, and that, in every hour he spent at school, he was really working for better wages.

His first schoolmaster was Robin Cowens, a poor teacher in the village of Walbottle. He kept a night-school, which was attended by a few of the colliers and labourers' sons in the neighbourhood. George took lessons in spelling and reading three nights in the week. Robin Cowen's teaching cost threepence a week; and though it was not very good, yet George, being hungry for knowledge and eager to acquire it, soon learnt to read.

He also practised "pothooks," and at the age of nineteen he was proud to be able to write his own name.

A Scotch dominie, named Andrew Robertson, set up a night-school in the village of Newburn, in the winter of 1799. It was more convenient for George to attend this school, as it was nearer to his work, and only a few minutes' walk from Jolly's Close. Besides, Andrew had the reputation of being a skilled arithmetician; and this branch of knowledge Stephenson was very desirous of acquiring. He accordingly began taking lessons from him, paying fourpence a week. Robert Gray, the junior fireman at the Water-row Pit, began arithmetic at the same time; and Gray afterwards told the author that George learnt "figuring" so much faster than he did, that he could not make out how it was-"he took to figures so wonderful."

Although the two started together from the same point, at the end of the winter George had mastered "reduction," while Robert Gray was still struggling with the difficulties of simple division. But George's secret was his perseverance. He worked out the sums in his bye-hours, improving every minute of his spare time by the engine-fire, and studying there the arithmetical problems set for him upon his slate by the master. In the evenings he took to Robertson the sums which he had "worked," and new ones were "set" for him to study out the following day. Thus his progress was rapid, and, with a willing heart and mind, he soon became well advanced in arithmetic. Indeed, Andrew Robertson became very proud of his scholar; and shortly after, when the Water-row Pit was closed, and George removed to Black Callerton to work there, the poor schoolmaster, not having a very extensive connexion in Newburn, went with his pupils, and set up his night-school at Black Callerton, where he continued his lessons.

George still found time to attend to his favourite animals while working at the Water-row Pit. Like his father, he used to tempt the robin-redb.r.e.a.s.t.s to hop and fly about him at the engine-fire, by the bait of bread-crumbs saved from his dinner. But his chief favourite was his dog-so sagacious that he almost daily carried George's dinner to him at the pit. The tin containing the meal was suspended from the dog's neck, and, thus laden, he proceeded faithfully from Jolly's Close to Water-row Pit, quite through the village of Newburn. He turned neither to left nor right, nor heeded the barking of curs at his heels. But his course was not unattended with perils. One day the big strange dog of a pa.s.sing butcher espying the engineman's messenger with the tin can about his neck, ran after and fell upon him. There was a terrible tussle and worrying, which lasted for a brief while, and, shortly after, the dog's master, anxious for his dinner, saw his faithful servant approaching, bleeding but triumphant. The tin can was still round his neck, but the dinner had been spilt in the struggle. Though George went without his dinner that day, he was prouder of his dog than ever when the circ.u.mstances of the combat were related to him by the villagers who had seen it.

It was while working at the Water-row Pit that Stephenson learnt the art of brakeing an engine. This being one of the higher departments of colliery labour, and among the best paid, George was very anxious to learn it. A small winding-engine having been put up for the purpose of drawing the coals from the pit, Bill Coe, his friend and fellow-workman, was appointed the brakesman. He frequently allowed George to try his hand at the machine, and instructed him how to proceed. Coe was, however, opposed in this by several of the other workmen-one of whom, a banksman named William Locke, {26} went so far as to stop the working of the pit because Stephenson had been called in to the brake. But one day as Mr. Charles Nixon, the manager of the pit, was observed approaching, Coe adopted an expedient which put a stop to the opposition. He called upon Stephenson to "come into the brake-house, and take hold of the machine." Locke, as usual, sat down, and the working of the pit was stopped. When requested by the manager to give an explanation, he said that "young Stephenson couldn't brake, and, what was more, never would learn, he was so clumsy." Mr. Nixon, however, ordered Locke to go on with the work, which he did; and Stephenson, after some further practice, acquired the art of brakeing.

After working at the Water-row Pit and at other engines near Newburn for about three years, George and Coe went to Black Callerton early in 1801.

Though only twenty years of age, his employers thought so well of him that they appointed him to the responsible office of brakesman at the Dolly Pit. For convenience' sake, he took lodgings at a small farmer's in the village, finding his own victuals, and paying so much a week for lodging and attendance. In the locality this was called "picklin in his awn poke neuk." It not unfrequently happens that the young workman about the collieries, when selecting a lodging, contrives to pitch his tent where the daughter of the house ultimately becomes his wife. This is often the real attraction that draws the youth from home, though a very different one may be pretended.

George Stephenson's duties as brakesman may be briefly described. The work was somewhat monotonous, and consisted in superintending the working of the engine and machinery by means of which the coals were drawn out of the pit. Brakesman are almost invariably selected from those who have had considerable experience as engine-firemen, and borne a good character for steadiness, punctuality, watchfulness, and "mother wit." In George Stephenson's day the coals were drawn out of the pit in corves, or large baskets made of hazel rods. The corves were placed together in a cage, between which and the pit-ropes there was usually from fifteen to twenty feet of chain. The approach of the corves towards the pit mouth was signalled by a bell, brought into action by a piece of mechanism worked from the shaft of the engine. When the bell sounded, the brakesman checked the speed, by taking hold of the hand-gear connected with the steam-valves, which were so arranged that by their means he could regulate the speed of the engine, and stop or set it in motion when required. Connected with the fly-wheel was a powerful wooden brake, acting by pressure against its rim, something like the brake of a railway-carriage against its wheels. On catching sight of the chain attached to the ascending corve-cage, the brakesman, by pressing his foot upon a foot-step near him, was enabled, with great precision, to stop the revolutions of the wheel, and arrest the ascent of the corves at the pit mouth, when they were forthwith landed on the "settle board." On the full corves being replaced by empty ones, it was then the duty of the brakesman to reverse the engine, and send the corves down the pit to be filled again.

The monotony of George Stephenson's occupation as a brakesman was somewhat varied by the change which he made, in his turn, from the day to the night shift. His duty, on the latter occasions, consisted chiefly in sending men and materials into the mine, and in drawing other men and materials out. Most of the workmen enter the pit during the night shift, and leave it in the latter part of the day, whilst coal-drawing is proceeding. The requirements of the work at night are such, that the brakesman has a good deal of spare time on his hands, which he is at liberty to employ in his own way. From an early period, George was accustomed to employ those vacant night hours in working the sums set for him by Andrew Robertson upon his slate, practising writing in his copy-book, and mending the shoes of his fellow-workmen. His wages while working at the Dolly Pit amounted to from 1 15s. to 2 in the fortnight; but he gradually added to them as he became more expert at shoe-mending, and afterwards at shoe-making.

Probably he was stimulated to take in hand this extra work by the attachment he had by this time formed for a young woman named f.a.n.n.y Henderson, who officiated as servant in the small farmer's house in which he lodged. We have been informed that the personal attractions of f.a.n.n.y, though these were considerable, were the least of her charms. Mr.

William Fairbairn, who afterwards saw her in her home at Willington Quay, describes her as a very comely woman. But her temper was one of the sweetest; and those who knew her were accustomed to speak of the charming modesty of her demeanour, her kindness of disposition, and withal her sound good sense.

Amongst his various mendings of old shoes at Callerton. George was on one occasion favoured with the shoes of his sweetheart to sole. One can imagine the pleasure with which he would linger over such a piece of work, and the pride with which he would execute it. A friend of his, still living, relates that, after he had finished the shoes, he carried them about with him in his pocket on the Sunday afternoon, and that from time to time he would pull them out and hold them up, exclaiming, "what a capital job he had made of them!"

Out of his earnings by shoe-mending at Callerton, George contrived to save his first guinea. The first guinea saved by a working man is no trivial thing. If, as in Stephenson's case, it has been the result of prudent self-denial, of extra labour at bye-hours, and of the honest resolution to save and economise for worthy purposes, the first guinea saved is an earnest of better things. When Stephenson had saved this guinea he was not a little elated at the achievement, and expressed the opinion to a friend, who many years after reminded him of it, that he was "now a rich man."

Not long after he began to work at Black Callerton as brakesman, he had a quarrel with a pitman named Ned Nelson, a roistering bully, who was the terror of the village. Nelson was a great fighter; and it was therefore considered dangerous to quarrel with him. Stephenson was so unfortunate as not to be able to please this pitman by the way in which he drew him out of the pit; and Nelson swore at him grossly because of the alleged clumsiness of his brakeing. George defended himself, and appealed to the testimony of the other workmen. But Nelson had not been accustomed to George's style of self-a.s.sertion; and, after a great deal of abuse, he threatened to kick the brakesman, who defied him to do so. Nelson ended by challenging Stephenson to a pitched battle; and the latter accepted the challenge, when a day was fixed on which the fight was to come off.

Great was the excitement at Black Callerton when it was known that George Stephenson had accepted Nelson's challenge. Everybody said he would be killed. The villagers, the young men, and especially the boys of the place, with whom George was a great favourite, all wished that he might beat Nelson, but they scarcely dared to say so. They came about him while he was at work in the engine-house to inquire if it was really true that he was "goin to fight Nelson?" "Ay; never fear for me; I'll fight him." And fight him he did. For some days previous to the appointed day of battle, Nelson went entirely off work for the purpose of keeping himself fresh and strong, whereas Stephenson went on doing his daily work as usual, and appeared not in the least disconcerted by the prospect of the affair. So, on the evening appointed, after George had done his day's labour, he went into the Dolly Pit Field, where his already exulting rival was ready to meet him. George stripped, and "went in"

like a practised pugilist-though it was his first and last fight. After a few rounds, George's wiry muscles and practised strength enabled him severely to punish his adversary, and to secure an easy victory.

This circ.u.mstance is related in ill.u.s.tration of Stephenson's personal pluck and courage; and it was thoroughly characteristic of the man. He was no pugilist, and the very reverse of quarrelsome. But he would not be put down by the bully of the colliery, and he fought him. There his pugilism ended; they afterwards shook hands, and continued good friends.

In after life, Stephenson's mettle was often as hardly tried, though in a different way; and he did not fail to exhibit the same resolute courage in contending with the bullies of the railway world, as he showed in his encounter with Ned Nelson, the fighting pitman of Callerton.

[Picture: Colliery Whimsey]

[Picture: Stephenson's Cottage at Wallington Quay]

CHAPTER III.

ENGINEMAN AT WILLINGTON QUAY AND KILLINGWORTH.

George Stephenson had now acquired the character of an expert workman.

He was diligent and observant while at work, and sober and studious when the day's work was over. His friend Coe described him to the author as "a standing example of manly character." On pay-Sat.u.r.day afternoons, when the pitmen held their fortnightly holiday, occupying themselves chiefly in c.o.c.k-fighting and dog-fighting in the adjoining fields, followed by adjournments to the "yel-house," George was accustomed to take his engine to pieces, for the purpose of obtaining "insight," and he cleaned all the parts and put the machine in thorough working order before leaving it.

In the evenings he improved himself in the arts of reading and writing, and occasionally took a turn at modelling. It was at Callerton, his son Robert informed us, that he began to try his hand at original invention; and for some time he applied his attention to a machine of the nature of an engine-brake, which reversed itself by its own action. But nothing came of the contrivance, and it was eventually thrown aside as useless.

Yet not altogether so; for even the highest skill must undergo the inevitable discipline of experiment, and submit to the wholesome correction of occasional failure.

After working at Callerton for about two years, he received an offer to take charge of the engine on Willington Ballast Hill at an advanced wage.

He determined to accept it, and at the same time to marry f.a.n.n.y Henderson, and begin housekeeping on his own account. Though he was only twenty-one years old, he had contrived, by thrift, steadiness, and industry, to save as much money as enabled him to take a cottage-dwelling at Willington Quay, and furnish it in a humble but comfortable style for the reception of his bride.

Willington Quay lies on the north bank of the Tyne, about six miles below Newcastle. It consists of a line of houses straggling along the river-side; and high behind it towers up the huge mound of ballast emptied out of the ships which resort to the quay for their cargoes of coal for the London market. The ballast is thrown out of the ships'

holds into waggons laid alongside, which are run up to the summit of the Ballast Hill, and emptied out there. At the foot of the great mound of shot rubbish was the fixed engine of which George Stephenson acted as brakesman.

The cottage in which he took up his abode was a small two-storied dwelling, standing a little back from the quay with a bit of garden ground in front. {33} The Stephenson family occupied the upper room in the west end of the cottage. Close behind rose the Ballast Hill.

When the cottage dwelling had been made snug, and was ready for occupation, the marriage took place. It was celebrated in Newburn Church, on the 28th of November, 1802. After the ceremony, George, with his newly-wedded wife, proceeded to the house of his father at Jolly's Close. The old man was now becoming infirm, and, though he still worked as an engine-fireman, contrived with difficulty "to keep his head above water." When the visit had been paid, the bridal party set out for their new home at Willington Quay, whither they went in a manner quite common before travelling by railway came into use. Two farm horses, borrowed from a neighbouring farmer, were each provided with a saddle and pillion, and George having mounted one, his wife seated herself behind him, holding on by his waist. The bridesman and bridesmaid in like manner mounted the other horse; and in this wise the wedding party rode across the country, pa.s.sing through the old streets of Newcastle, and then by Wallsend to Willington Quay-a ride of about fifteen miles.

George Stephenson's daily life at Willington was that of a steady workman. By the manner, however, in which he continued to improve his spare hours in the evening, he was silently and surely paving the way for being something more than a manual labourer. He set himself to study diligently the principles of mechanics, and to master the laws by which his engine worked. For a workman, he was even at that time more than ordinarily speculative-often taking up strange theories, and trying to sift out the truth that was in them. While sitting by his wife's side in his cottage-dwelling in the winter evenings, he was usually occupied in studying mechanical subjects, or in modelling experimental machines.

Amongst his various speculations while at Willington, he tried to discover a means of Perpetual Motion. Although he failed, as so many others had done before him, the very efforts he made tended to whet his inventive faculties, and to call forth his dormant powers. He went so far as to construct the model of a machine for the purpose. It consisted of a wooden wheel, the periphery of which was furnished with gla.s.s tubes filled with quicksilver; as the wheel rotated, the quicksilver poured itself down into the lower tubes, and thus a sort of self-acting motion was kept up in the apparatus, which, however, did not prove to be perpetual. Where he had first obtained the idea of this machine-whether from conversation or reading, is not known; but his son Robert was of opinion that he had heard of the apparatus of this kind described in the "History of Inventions." As he had then no access to books, and indeed could barely read with ease, it is probable that he had been told of the contrivance, and set about testing its value according to his own methods.

Much of his spare time continued to be occupied by labour more immediately profitable, regarded in a pecuniary point of view. In the evenings, after his day's labour at his engine, he would occasionally employ himself for an hour or two in casting ballast out of the collier ships, by which means he was enabled to earn a few extra shillings weekly. Mr. William Fairbairn of Manchester has informed us that while Stephenson was employed at Willington, he himself was working in the neighbourhood as an engine apprentice at the Percy Main Colliery. He was very fond of George, who was a fine, hearty fellow, besides being a capital workman. In the summer evenings young Fairbairn was accustomed to go down to the Quay to see his friend, and on such occasions he would frequently take charge of George's engine while he took a turn at heaving ballast out of the ships' holds. It is pleasant to think of the future President of the British a.s.sociation thus helping the future Railway Engineer to earn a few extra shillings by overwork in the evenings, at a time when both occupied the rank of humble working men in an obscure northern village.

Mr. Fairbairn was also a frequent visitor at George's cottage on the Quay, where, though there was no luxury, there was comfort, cleanliness, and a pervading spirit of industry. Even at home George was never for a moment idle. When there was no ballast to heave out at the Quay he took in shoes to mend; and from mending he proceeded to making them, as well as shoe-lasts, in which he was admitted to be very expert.

But an accident occurred in Stephenson's household about this time, which had the effect of directing his industry into a new and still more profitable channel. The cottage chimney took fire one day in his absence, when the alarmed neighbours, rushing in, threw quant.i.ties of water upon the flames; and some, in their zeal, even mounted the ridge of the house, and poured buckets of water down the chimney. The fire was soon put out, but the house was thoroughly soaked. When George came home he found everything in disorder, and his new furniture covered with soot.

The eight-day clock, which hung against the wall-one of the most highly-prized articles in the house-was much damaged by the steam with which the room had been filled; and its wheels were so clogged by the dust and soot that it was brought to a complete standstill. George was always ready to turn his hand to anything, and his ingenuity, never at fault, immediately set to work to repair the unfortunate clock. He was advised to send it to the clockmaker, but that would cost money; and he declared that he would repair it himself-at least he would try. The clock was accordingly taken to pieces and cleaned; the tools which he had been acc.u.mulating for the purpose of constructing his Perpetual Motion machine, enabled him to do this readily; and he succeeded so well that, shortly after, the neighbours sent him their clocks to clean, and he soon became one of the most famous clock-doctors in the neighbourhood.

It was while living at Willington Quay that George Stephenson's only son was born, on the 16th of October, 1803. The child was a great favourite with his father, and added much to the happiness of his evening hours.

George's "philoprogenitiveness," as phrenologists call it, had been exercised hitherto upon birds, dogs, rabbits, and even the poor old gin-horses which he had driven at the Callerton Pit; but in his boy he now found a much more genial object for the exercise of his affection.