N the middle of the eighteenth century, the Duke of Bridgewater, with the aid of a great engineer named James Brindley, had increased the prosperity of Manchester and Liverpool by constructing a canal to convey merchandise cheaply and easily between them. Enterprising people, seeing the great advantage of the canal, wished to follow this good example, and increase the means of carrying goods from one place to another, if not by canals, by better roads than England possessed at the time.

In different parts of the country it had been found that horses could drag heavier loads if the wheels of the cart were allowed to run on rails made of wood or iron. The knowledge of this fact led certain men connected with the coal-mines of Darlington, in Durham, to propose the building of a tram-line between their town and that of Stockton-on-Tees. But when Mr. Edward Pease, who was the leader in the enterprise, sought to collect money to bear the cost, not twenty people in Stockton would give him their support. The idea of making a metal road over twelve miles of country seemed only matter for laughter, and Mr. Pease was told that he ought not to expect sensible people to spend their money on such a scheme. So Mr. Pease did without the 'sensible people.'

Application for leave to lay the line was made to Parliament, but was refused, the principal opponent being the Duke of Cleveland, who said that the proposed line would go too near one of his fox-covers, and frighten the foxes away. The application, however, was renewed, and was reluctantly granted at last.

In the meantime a young man had called on Mr. Pease to offer his services, and the initial at the head of this article shows his portrait. The young man's name was George Stephenson. He had had some experience, he said, in the laying of railways, and Mr. Pease was so impressed with his honest manner that, in the end, he engaged him on the great undertaking.

George Stephenson was full of suggestions. He pointed out the kind of rails that ought to be used: cast-iron rails were the cheapest, he said, but they could not be relied on, as they often snapped when a heavy load passed over them; and, though he himself was a maker of cast-iron metals, he recommended that another kind, called 'malleable,' should be used. Malleable metal is much tougher than ordinary cast, because, after being poured into the moulds, it is only allowed to cool very slowly, and is not exposed to the air until quite cold. But as the expense of using malleable rails only would be very great, Mr. Pease and his friends decided to use both kinds of rails.

Another of George Stephenson's suggestions was more than even Mr. Pease could seriously entertain. In a private conversation the young man strongly urged that locomotives should be used to drag the coal-trucks instead of horses!

'If you will only come to Killingworth,' said he, 'I will show you an engine I made and have been driving in the colliery yard for more than ten years. It is forty times as strong as a horse, and cheaper in the end.'

Mr. Pease kindly promised that he would accept this invitation some day, but nothing had been said about locomotives in the Act of Parliament, and for the time being things must go on as they were.

The first rail was laid on May 23rd, 1822, and the whole twelve miles of line were ready for traffic, on September 27th, 1825. Three years doing twelve miles! That does not seem very fast, but we must remember that there were rivers to be spanned, and hills to be cut through, and valleys to be crossed by high embankments. And George Stephenson had progressed very much more than twelve miles in these three years. He had taken Mr. Pease to Killingworth, and shown him his engine; he had convinced him it would travel even faster than a horse, and drag a heavier load behind it; and he had won a promise that the railroad between Darlington and Stockton should be opened with a locomotive driven by steam, though he was made to understand that it was only an experiment, and no one really expected it to succeed.

On September 27th, therefore, in 1825, crowds of people streamed along the country roads in the direction of Brusselton, nine miles from Darlington, to see the beginning of this strange experiment. Some were interested, most were inclined to laugh, and many had come with the secret hope of seeing this 'ridiculous engine' blown into a thousand pieces.

At the bottom of a slope the monster stood, puffing and hissing with impatience to show these unbelieving people how mistaken they were. It was a strange-looking machine, quite unlike any of the giants that we know. A large boiler lay full length between four ornamental iron wheels. Out of the front end of the boiler rose a tall and ugly stove-pipe, while over the boiler was a confused collection of rods and levers communicating with the crank of the big wheels. It was called the 'Locomotion.' George Stephenson stood ready to drive it as soon as the trucks, which a stationary engine was lowering down the slope by means of a wire rope, had been attached to it. In the first of these trucks came the Directors of the Railway Company and their friends, followed by twenty-one trucks (all open to the sky, like ordinary goods-trucks), loaded with various passengers, and finally six more waggons of coal. Such was the first train. A man on horseback, carrying a flag, having taken up his position in front of the 'Locomotion' to head the procession, the starting word was given, and with a hiss of steam, half drowned in the shouting of the crowd, the first railway journey ever made in England was begun.

The man on horseback probably stepped aside before Stockton was reached, for, to the astonishment of everybody, George Stephenson's engine insisted now and then on travelling at the giddy speed of twelve miles an hour, though it was sufficiently modest to do most of the distance at a slower rate. Many trains have travelled since at over seventy miles an hour, and a good many in England do long distances every day at an average speed of well over fifty miles an hour.

When the train steamed into Stockton the number of passengers had greatly increased; they had seized hold of passing carriages, and secured a foothold as best they could.

After that the 'Locomotion' had a distinguished career. Twenty years later it had the honour of opening the railway from Middlesborough to Redcar, and to-day it stands in state on a pedestal in the Bank Top Station at Darlington.

When Parliament gave permission for Mr. Pease's railway, it was ordered that any one should have the use of it who liked to pay for the privilege. Consequently there were soon large numbers who were glad to avail themselves of the opportunity. Carriers fitted suitable wheels to their carts, and drove their horses up and down it, while stage-coach owners offered travellers an easy and comfortable journey on the smooth metals. When we remember that it was only a single line, with side openings every quarter of a mile, we can easily understand that there were frequent quarrels when two vehicles met half-way. Sometimes one of the opponents would be a puffing engine, and if it happened to be dragging a load of coal, back it had to go until the siding was reached, that the plodding horse might pass. To us such a state of things is hard to imagine, but the railway and it possibilities were not thoroughly understood at first. Even George Stephenson did not think it would be very suitable for passenger traffic.

At last the confusion was put an end to by the Company taking entire command of the line, and turning the quarrelsome competitors off it. Then prosperity came.

The twelve miles of railway laid down by George Stevenson has grown to over twenty thousand miles, making about two hundred and fifty miles every year for eighty years. It is pleasant to know that both Mr. Pease and his engineer lived to see more than their greatest dreams realised.

John Lea.