Some incidents in connection with the suspension of the railway service on every line connecting Plymouth with the rest of the world have already been related. It is unnecessary to dwell at further length on the terrible mental and physical suffering entailed by this state of things. Facts need no comment that tell of passengers being snowed up in a train for thirty-six hours on a stretch, and others being unable to communicate with their friends for nearly a week, to say nothing of all that the engine-drivers and other officials had to endure.

One of the first expeditions that set out into the dreary night in search of the cause of delay was undertaken by Mr. C. E. Compton, the divisional superintendent of the Great Western Railway Co., and other gentlemen, who went out on a pilot engine as far as Camel's Head Bridge between eight and nine o'clock on Monday night. The cause of the interruption in the telegraph system was here ascertained, the poles being blown down and lying across the line. Later in the evening Mr. Compton pushed on as far as Hemerdon, on the main line, where a similar state of things was encountered, and it was learned that at Kingsbridge Road and at Brent Station the snow had drifted to such an extent as to block the line. A train due from Penzance was known to be somewhere on the Plymouth side of Truro, but its exact whereabouts could not be discovered. There was some anxious looking out for the "Zulu" express from Paddington, due at Plymouth early in the evening, but the train was at Brent, with about ten feet of snow on the line, between it and Plymouth, and, as will be presently seen, the passengers were meeting with some novel and undesirable experiences.

The mail train from Plymouth for London left Millbay Station at the usual time, 8·20, and Hemerdon Junction was reached with much difficulty. Here the first deep cutting had to be encountered, and the driver, approaching it at a reduced speed, observed that the drifting snow had practically blocked the entrance. The seriousness of the situation was realized by one and all of the passengers, and, although there was an anxiety on their part to get to their destination as soon as possible, they agreed that there was no alternative but to either remain where they were or return to Plymouth. The latter course was decided upon, and shunting was at once proceeded with. The drifts of snow rendered this work very difficult, and the frequent jerkings caused the passengers much inconvenience. Eventually the driver, after most skilful handling of the locomotive, succeeded in reversing the position of the engine, and a start was made for Plymouth. Much to the relief of the passengers, the latter place was reached, after a slow but sure journey, about half-past one next morning. The utmost consideration was shown the passengers by the station officials, and accommodation was found them for the night at the "Duke of Cornwall" Hotel and in the station waiting-room.

All traffic on the London and South Western Railway below Okehampton ceased soon after eight o'clock on Monday night. One of the slow passenger trains from Okehampton was snowed up in a deep cutting between Meldon Viaduct and Bridestowe, one of the bleakest spots on the South Western system. The express due at North Road Station at 11·4 on the same night was stopped at Okehampton. The ordinary seven o'clock up-train was despatched on Tuesday morning from Mutley Station, and was drawn by three engines. Considerable danger attended railway travelling in consequence of the jolting and straining that occurred when the numerous obstructions were met with. All the points at the Tavistock Station were completely choked, and though for some hours a number of men were employed in an effort to keep them clear, the task was found impossible, and as a result the train that might have proceeded in the direction of Plymouth remained where it was as the engine could not be shunted to the Plymouth end of the train. The last up South Western train on Monday night was snowed up at Lidford, but the passengers were released. One of the vans of a goods train proceeding to Tavistock early on Monday evening was blown away.

Serious as was the condition of things on all the railways on Monday night, on Tuesday matters became worse. During that day only two trains reached Millbay Station, Plymouth, and these, which came from Cornwall, should have arrived on Monday night. One account, of experiences as unique as they were unpleasant, is thus given by the Western Daily Mercury:—"The mail train from Cornwall, due at Plymouth at 8·10 on Monday night, reached Millbay at 9·30 A.M., bringing some eighty passengers; amongst whom were Mr. Bolitho, banker, of Penzance, and Mrs. Bolitho, who were wishful of getting to Ivybridge to attend the hunt, and Mr. J. H. Hamblyn, of Buckfastleigh, who was en route from Liskeard to Bristol Fair. All went well with the mail until St. Germans was reached at about 8 P.M. It was found that no further progress was possible, and that there was no help for it but to pass the night in the carriages under the shelter of the station. Mr. Gibbons, one of the assistant-engineers of the line, and Inspector Scantlebury, who were travelling in the train, resolved to walk to Saltash. The snow was not so very deep at this time, and the block was due principally to the wholesale destruction of telegraph poles. After a rough time of it the two officials reached Saltash, and afterwards pushed on to Camel's Head, where was the biggest block of all, fir trees and telegraph poles and wires being scattered about broadcast. Meanwhile at St. Germans the station-master (Mr. Priest) was doing his best to make the passengers as comfortable as possible. In fact, all of those who reached Plymouth after the night's adventure are loud in their praises of Mr. Priest. Messengers were despatched by him to the village, and loaves, butter, tea, and coffee were speedily bought up. At the station fires were lit in all the available grates, and very soon the passengers were in possession of hot tea and coffee, as well as bread and butter. This modest fare was repeated at intervals during the night, and it goes without saying was most welcome.

"After spending something like ten hours at St. Germans the mail was able to leave at eight o'clock on Tuesday morning for Saltash, but here another delay of nearly two hours took place, in consequence of the block on the Devonport side of the Camel's Head bridge. To remove this a breakdown train had been sent out from Plymouth at 6 A.M. in charge of Mr. H. Quigley, the assistant divisional-superintendent. This train got as far as Keyham Viaduct without much interruption. Here an array of prostrate poles and fir-trees required removing, and then the breakdown train forged ahead slowly to the Weston Mills Viaduct, where there was a confused mass of poles and wires stretching from one side of the creek to the other. This accomplished, a move was made to Saltash, where the mail was met and safely escorted to Plymouth, which all were glad to reach, after a novel but most unpleasant night's adventure."

The difficulty that beset those that attempted to travel by road the above view indicates, and is from a photograph by A. Leamon, Esq., of Liskeard.

One of the passengers in the train snowed up between Princetown and Plymouth in the evening mail has related the following experiences:—"We left Princetown at 6·30 P.M. on Monday—the regular time—with five bags of mails. The snow beat in our compartment through closed doors, ventilators, and windows so much, that in a few minutes I had two inches of snow on my umbrella. We stuffed paper, handkerchiefs, and cloth into every hole or crevice we could find, and this remedied matters a little. The coach we were in was a composite one—of four third-class compartments, one second class, one first class, and one guard's, and we were all in one compartment. Well, the wind was blowing great guns, and we passed through two large drifts just after leaving Princetown, but it required some heavy pulling. We had just been congratulating ourselves on having been lucky in getting so nicely through the storm, when we suddenly stopped, and we knew we had stuck in the snow. The engine driver came and said, 'I was afraid of it; we have got over a bar, and we cannot go on. We ought not to have started.' The ladies became alarmed, and with that the driver, fireman, and guard went to the front of the train with shovels to try and dig a way for her, but it was no good. It is true that the place where we stopped is on a bit of decline, but the engine was choked with snow. The guard, having told us that we could not get on without assistance, proceeded in the direction of Dousland to get help. He had been gone about an hour, when he returned with the mournful intelligence that he had lost his way, and that it was no use for him to attempt to reach Dousland, as the snow blinded him. We decided to make ourselves as comfortable as we possibly could under the painful conditions to which we were subjected—six men and two ladies huddled together in one compartment—the cold being most bitter, and none of us having anything to eat or drink. We lived the night through, but in what way I can hardly tell.

"In the morning the wind was blowing as strong as ever, and the snow as it fell melted on the window panes, and the lamp—our only light—was extinguished at 7 A.M. Just at this time the guard and fireman left us, saying they were going to try and reach Dousland with the 'staff,' so as to let them know of the disaster, and see what help could be rendered. It is true that the fireman was lame, but I understand they had fearful trouble, as he was sadly knocked up and his foot badly lacerated. Some little time afterwards the driver, who has, I believe, been seriously ill, announced his intention of going to Dousland. We then felt in a particularly sad condition, feeling our only hope was gone now that the driver had abandoned us. The storm was raging as fiercely as on the previous night, but at 3 P.M. we were agreeably surprised to find three packers, who had tramped up from Dousland with refreshments for us, knock at our door. We were heartily glad to receive the refreshments, which, I believe, were sent from the railway company to us in our forlorn position—although it only consisted of cocoa, bread and butter, and cake, with a bottle of well-watered brandy to follow. We found there was enough for us to have one piece of bread and butter and one piece of cake each. This was not a very substantial bill of fare for people who had had nothing to eat for over twenty hours, but we were thankful for small mercies. There is one thing I forgot: the packers were very kind, and brought us out the guard's lamp from his van, which we afterwards lit. One of the party, I think Palk, asked if the packer thought we could weather the journey back. The packer replied, 'It will take you about two hours.' This was enough for Palk, who said he thought he was better where he was. Besides, we asked him to stay and not desert us in the time of trouble.

"We then awaited the result of events. The wind was fearful, and we were all bitterly cold. We were nearly dead in the afternoon, and drank all the brandy by eight o'clock. If it had not been for that some of us would have given way. The weather was milder after midnight. About seven o'clock this morning one of us looking out of the window saw Mr. Hilson, of Horsford, farmer, whose farm is only about 250 yards from where our train was lying, picking sheep out of the snow. We whistled to him, and on his coming to us he was told of our predicament. He expressed his astonishment that he knew nothing of the accident. We do not see how he could have, because the snow had been so blinding in character until that day that it was impossible to see anyone ahead. He offered us the use of his farm, and we joyfully accepted the same, leaving the train after being in her for 36 hours. Poor Mrs. Watts was much distressed and we had to assist her down. We had breakfast at Mr. Hilson's, and then four of us—Hancock, Viggers, Palk and Worth—started to walk to Dousland, which we could see ahead of us. We got on fairly well over the snow, which was very deep in some places. We could not keep our eyes open owing to the snow when we left Princetown, and when we asked the station-master for tickets he said, 'You can have them, but I cannot promise you will get there.' It did not strike me at the time, but if a station-master had any doubts as to the safety or otherwise of a train he should not allow the train to travel. It is true the wind was in our favour when we started. Mrs. Watts is very bad indeed, and also the engine-driver and stoker. The engine of the train when we left was completely covered with snow, and the snow had drifted as high as the carriage, with a blank space between the body and the wheels. All the compartments into which I looked before I left her—although the windows and ventilators were closed and doors locked—were full of snow above the hat-racks. It was the most horrible experience of my life."

Great anxiety was felt in Exeter and Plymouth on account of the sea wall which carries the line of the Great Western Railway Company from Dawlish to Teignmouth. In past years this piece of line has suffered very severely, and rumours were in circulation that it had been washed away in some places. Happily, however, it was found, as soon as communication became opened up once more, that the line remained intact, the damaged portion of the sea wall being a carriage-drive close to the town. One of our views, from a photograph by Messrs. Denney & Co., photographers, of Exeter and Teignmouth, gives an admirable idea of the force of the sea in this district, during the progress of a gale from the south-east.

Difficulties and dangers on all the lines of railway multiplied as time went on, and the horrors of the Monday night, of which the foregoing narratives present only a partial view, were succeeded by some sad instances of loss of life, besides great damage to the property of the respective companies, and as a matter of course, a heavy falling off in their traffic returns. The returns for the week, following March 9th, on the Great Western system, showed a decrease of £12,980 as compared with the corresponding week of the previous year, and the South-Western Railway's decrease amounted to £3,662—all but £650 of which was lost from the non-conveyance of passengers and parcels. This was regarded as especially unfortunate in the case of the South-Western Railway, as its traffic returns had previously been going up week by week, and in the eleven weeks of the year had increased by £12,120, as compared with the first eleven weeks of 1890. In addition to these losses heavy expenses were incurred by all the companies by the efforts made to clear away the snow, by means of snow ploughs, and the employment of large gangs of men. The inadequacy of the snow ploughs, which dated in England from the time of the heavy snow-fall in the early part of 1881, for clearing away heavy drifts, has been generally admitted. The ploughs are quite competent to get rid of from 4 to 5 feet of snow, but their capacity is not equal to depths ranging as high as 18 feet, such as were dealt with in some places between Newton Abbott and Plymouth, on the Great Western system, to say nothing of other sections and branches. The ploughs, which are kept at Swindon, have an iron ram in front, projecting like that of an ironclad, with a "cutter." The attention of engineers has, however, been now directed to a new kind of machine, with a revolving, spade-like apparatus, having a powerful shaft, and a propeller that is designed to scatter the snow with which it is brought into contact, and throw it clear of the rails on which the engine is travelling. The work of cutting out engines that had been absolutely embedded was very arduous, and in one case, lamentable loss of life accompanied the other misfortunes brought about by the storm.

One or two instances of striking and unprecedented experiences of the night of Monday must be recorded before this part of the subject, which is, in itself, enough to fill a volume, is dismissed.

Passengers by the train which left Queen Street Station, Exeter, on Monday evening at 6·38, and was in connection with the 2·20 from Waterloo, had an exceptionally rough time. The train, a slow one, had to make its way across Dartmoor from Okehampton to Tavistock, and on starting, the guard, Mr. Moore, had orders to proceed as far as he could. After cutting through the snow for some miles the train reached Okehampton, and then attempted to brave the force of the storm that was sweeping down from the Dartmoor hills. It got over the Meldon Viaduct safely, and then it was attempted to go on over Sourton Down, but in going through Youlditch cutting it ran into a snow-drift, and about three miles to the west of Okehampton it was brought to a stop. Efforts were made to run back to Okehampton, but the rapid drifts of snow, which were from ten to twenty feet in height, prevented this being done, and it was soon seen that there was nothing left but to remain until help of some kind could be obtained. There were only eleven passengers, including two ladies and two children. The ladies and children, who were well supplied with wraps, were bestowed as comfortably as circumstances would permit in a first-class carriage, the male portion of the party, with the guard, Mr. Moore, the driver, Mr. Bennett, and the fireman, Mr. Oates, trying to find some warmth in the guard's van. This, however, was a matter of impossibility, the bitter wind and the fine snow finding its way into the compartment, to the great discomfort of the occupants. The engine fire was kept alight, but was useless to impart warmth to the unfortunate party. It was only on the following day, and just before relief arrived, that Mr. Bennett had succeeded in getting a fire in the van by means of boring holes in one of the engine-buckets, filling the bucket with coal and, after much difficulty, kindling a flame, which the draught obtained through the holes soon increased into a most welcome blaze. Mr. John Powlesland, auctioneer, of Bow, was one of the belated travellers, and was especially assiduous in his efforts to do all he could for his fellow-sufferers.

When the train first showed signs of becoming embedded, a telegram was sent from the nearest signal-box to Exeter for assistance, and two engines were sent down. These approached within three-quarters of a mile of the snowed-up train, but could not be taken nearer on that line. They were then, with some difficulty, shunted on the up-line, with the view of pushing their way to the carriages in that manner, but the only result was that they became snowed-up in their turn.

As day approached Mr. Moore and Mr. Oates made their way to the Sourton Inn, which stood at no great distance, for the purpose of obtaining food, but their endeavour met with but slight success, the inn being also snowed-up, and the occupants having but little in the way of provisions that they could spare. No help arrived until Tuesday, at mid-day, when a search-party, headed by Mr. Prickman, the Mayor of Okehampton, and consisting of some half-a-dozen gentlemen of that locality, succeeded, after a difficult journey, in reaching the train. They took with them food and liquid refreshment, and were most heartily welcomed by the imprisoned travellers. By this time the train was entirely buried on one side, the engine having forced the snow on the left side up to a height of fully twenty feet. Only a small portion of the engine and carriages was visible, and the scene is described as a remarkable one.

The travellers were at once conducted by their rescuers to Youlditch Farm, where Mr. Gard treated them with much kindness, and took care of the ladies and children. The gentlemen subsequently made their way on to Okehampton, where they were detained for several days. The guard, engine-driver, and fireman were not able to leave the train until the following day, when a breakdown gang was employed to cut a passage for the train through the snow—a task that occupied nearly the whole of the week.

On the Launceston branch of the Great Western Railway, the down-train, which left Tavistock at seven o'clock on Monday evening, remained embedded in the snow outside Horrabridge for several days. Between the Walkham Viaduct and Grenofen tunnel very heavy work had to be done, a deep cutting being not only choked by the snow, but quite a score of trees having been blown across the rails. The accompanying illustration, depicting a snow-drift in this locality, from a photograph by Mr. Sheath, of George-street, Plymouth, conveys an excellent picture of the heavy masses of snow that had accumulated on this part of Dartmoor.

A passenger by the train which left Penzance at 6·25 P.M. on Monday and arrived at Plymouth at 3 P.M. on Tuesday, has supplied an interesting account of the blockage near Grampound Road. The train, containing about a dozen passengers, was only a quarter of a mile above Grampound Road Station when it encountered a drift of snow fully twenty feet high. It was impossible to proceed or to retreat, for the blinding storm had drifted more snow on to the line behind, so that passengers left the train and crossed some fields back to the village, and found shelter at the Grampound Road Hotel. It was then about 10·30 P.M. The guard Kelly remained on the train, and the under-guard Hammett walked back to Grampound Road and wired to Liskeard for a relief engine. He then walked on to meet an engine which had been sent for from Truro, and returned to the train on it. A relief gang arrived from Lostwithiel under engine-driver Harris, and the men dug at the drift until eleven A.M. on Tuesday, when the train was able to proceed. One of the workers described the cold as so intense that the snow froze on the men's clothes, practically encasing them in ice, and the under-guard Hammett, who had been at the work for over twenty years, said he never had such an experience, and even in the terrific storm of 1881 the snow was not so blinding.

Another passenger who travelled by the 6·50 Great Western up-train from Plymouth on Monday returned by a somewhat roundabout route, and he thus described his experiences: Hemerdon was reached without any delay on the journey, but at that point the train was drawn up for about three-quarters of an hour, to allow a down train to pass. It then proceeded slowly in face of a terrific gale, accompanied by blinding snow. After leaving Cornwood, a grating sound on the roof of the carriage suggested broken wires, and this was followed by a jerk and a stoppage, and the interesting announcement that one coach and the engine were off the rails, and embedded in a snowdrift. There was nothing for it but to wait, and the "wait" lasted the whole night. There was nothing to eat for anybody, and the forty or more passengers (amongst whom were several ladies) had to make their night watches as comfortably as was possible under the circumstances in the Langham cutting! It seems that the driver and one of the guards succeeded in reaching Ivybridge, about a mile away, in the late evening, but no notice of the proximity of the village was given to the passengers. On Tuesday morning a small party from Ivybridge, under Messrs. Brown and Greenhough, two engineers superintending the alterations to the line in the neighbourhood, came to the rescue of all who were willing to face the blinding storm. Only four consented to go, and they were very thankful to exchange the cold comfort of the railway carriage for the hearty hospitality offered by these gentlemen in Ivybridge.

The officials here do not seem generally to have been equal to the exigencies of the situation, no notice of their whereabouts being given to the passengers, nor any organised attempt made at rescue or provisioning, but a porter and a packer from Ivybridge station arrived about daybreak with whisky and brandy. When the four passengers referred to were leaving at about 9·30 on the Tuesday morning, bread and butter and tea were being dispensed. Many of the remaining passengers were hospitably accommodated by Miss Glanville at her house close to the half-buried train, the ladies being assisted thither by the engineers and their party. Another train was detained at Ivybridge Station, and the passengers from it were lodged in the village.

In West Cornwall three trains were snowed up. The train which left Plymouth at five o'clock on Monday night and should have reached Penzance at 8·45, arrived there at eleven. The "Dutchman" which should have, in the ordinary course of things, followed within fifteen minutes of this train, did not arrive at all, and news soon reached Penzance that the fast train was snowed up, but in what spot was only ascertained with much difficulty. A train was at once got ready, and on it Mr. Blair, the station-master, Mr. Ivey, the superintendent of the locomotive department, Mr. Glover, and a breakdown gang, proceeded to Camborne, which was reached about noon on Tuesday, it having taken about nine hours to accomplish a journey of thirteen miles. All the way along huge drifts of snow were met with, completely blocking the passage, and at frequent intervals the way had to be literally cut through the drifts by the men of the breakdown gang. Thus, with great difficulty, Hayle was reached, and from thence to Camborne the task became almost overpowering. Here the open country favoured the accumulation of snow, and the drifts were immense. In a deep cutting, close to Gwinear Station, was encountered a drift of about eighty yards long and nine feet deep.

On at length reaching Camborne it was discovered that the missing 8·45 train had left Redruth at about ten o'clock on Monday night—an hour and a half late. The storm was then at its height, and the snow was driving with such force that only very slight progress could be made. The train passed Carn Brea safely, but when within sight of Camborne Station, close to Stray Park, the engine left the metals, running on the south side, and finally bringing up at a hedge against which it lay on its side. Fortunately, at the time of the occurrence, speed was slow, and nothing more serious than some damage to the rolling stock, and the inconvenient detention of the twenty or thirty passengers occurred. These included five ladies, who were taken to the house of Mr. Maurice Reed, the Station Master at Camborne, the gentlemen of the party having good opportunities of finding comfortable quarters in the hotels of the town. Another train was embedded in fifteen feet of snow on the Helston branch line from Gwinear Road to Helston, and the guard, engine-driver, and stoker, with their one passenger, were compelled to abandon the train and seek shelter in a neighbouring farm-house.

While great inconvenience and discomfort was caused by the blizzard on the Cornish railways as a whole, no fatalities were reported, and the work of clearing the lines, great and arduous as it was, was accomplished in less time than in the districts above Plymouth, and in the vicinity of Dartmoor. Communication between Plymouth and Cornwall was opened up some days earlier than that with Totnes, Exeter, and other towns. The scene here depicted shows the depth of snow in this neighbourhood, and is from a photograph by A. Leamon, Esq., of Liskeard.

Above Exeter things were not so bad. In the Tiverton district the effects of the blizzard were rather severely felt, and communication between some towns was for the time cut off. The railway authorities were very active, and gangs of men were sent up from Exeter on Tuesday to clear the lines, but they could do little more than keep the points clear for shunting, watch the signals, and fix detonators where required, the driving snow being so blinding, and the coldness of the bitter wind so intense. The difficulties of the neighbourhood commenced on Monday evening at the Whitehall tunnel, when the pilot, in front of the express, got off the line. Daylight came before a gang of packers sent from Taunton could effect a clearance, and instead of passing at ten o'clock on Monday night, the express only struggled into Tiverton Junction, with two engines attached, at half-past six on Tuesday morning. The night mail, and the North mail followed some hours after, and managed to get through to Exeter, but after that, until Wednesday morning at eleven o'clock, no train could leave the junction.

After being snowed up for some hours at Burlescombe, the first part of the newspaper train reached Tiverton at half-past ten on Tuesday night. The train was stopped at the home signal, and so intense was the cold that the machinery was, in a few minutes, frozen, and the train could not enter the station. The ladies—mostly for Plymouth—who were in the train, were carried on chairs by porters and packers to the adjacent Railway Hotel, where they, and some of the male passengers, were able to obtain beds for the night. The train remained in the same position until Wednesday morning. In a siding also stood a slow train, which should have reached Tiverton on Tuesday at ten in the morning, but which did not get in until the afternoon. The passengers by this train were transferred to the first down-train that was got out from Tiverton on Wednesday. The second part of the newspaper train remained at Burlescombe all Monday night. The store of provisions in the hamlet was already exhausted, and although as much as a guinea was offered for a bed by some of the passengers, neither food nor sleeping accommodation could be obtained. A very uncomfortable night was passed in consequence, and many of the ladies suffered severely from hunger and exposure.

H.R.H. the Duke of Edinburgh, on his way to Devonport, was snow-bound at Taunton on Tuesday night, but with about two hundred other passengers, was able to proceed on his journey at the end of the week.

His Royal Highness afterwards conveyed to the Directors of the Company his appreciation of the courtesy and attention he received from the officials and servants of the Great Western Railway, on his journey during the gale and snowstorm, and during his detention at Taunton, on March 11th and 12th, and particularly thanked the Taunton station-master for his services.

At Brent, one of the most exposed railway towns on Dartmoor, the Zulu, from London, which was due at Plymouth at 8·55 on Monday night, came to grief, and a number of passengers spent several days of that week in this very bleak locality. Especial discomfort appears to have prevailed here, probably on account of the difficulty of obtaining assistance or information from any neighbouring town, and from the limited resources for personal comfort that the town afforded. There can be no doubt that the experiences of the first two days and nights must have been wretched in the extreme. After two hours waiting in the carriages, in a state of considerable doubt as to what was to happen, the travellers found themselves at length at the Brent station. Here there was neither refreshment nor accommodation, but the hotels of the town were made for. Quarters were difficult to obtain, however, as a large number of contractors men working on the new line of railway were residing in the place. On Monday night many passengers lay upon the floor, using their overcoats for pillows, and their rugs for coverings. A Mr. Stumbles, a commercial traveller, who was one of the Brent unfortunates, gave an account of his experiences to a representative of the Western Morning News, which has led to much subsequent controversy, and to a shower of letters, conveying many diverse opinions, being sent in to the editor of that paper. It appears that there were about forty passengers in the train, and that many of these remained at the station all night, either in the train or in the waiting-room. Next day Brent was visited, and refreshments were bought at, as Mr. Stumbles says, famine prices.

The account referred to goes on to say:—"One gentleman bought a bottle of brandy, for which he had to pay 6s., the inns charged us double price for ordinary meals, and some establishments refused to supply us at all, probably thinking that a famine was impending. We returned to the station as best we could, through the great drifts of snow, and, with such provisions as we could buy, did the best we could, cooking such things as bloaters in the station waiting-room. Our scanty supply, I must say, was most generously supplemented from the small stores which the railway officials, such as signalmen and others, had with them. There were a number of sailors and soldiers amongst the passengers, and most of them were without means. One gentleman gave them a sovereign, and ladies from Brent also brought them money, tobacco, and provisions during our stay. On the following monotonous days we spent our time in smoking and in conversation, and also in 'chaffing' the station-master, whom we christened 'Dr. Parr.' On Wednesday an enterprising amateur photographer from Brent took several views of our snowed-up train, with the eighteen or twenty passengers who stuck by it perched in various prominent positions upon it. We all united in praising the minor officials, and the men in charge of the train, for remaining faithful to us, and excused the want of sympathy of 'Dr. Parr' on account of his age. The driver kept the fires of his engine going all the time, but his boilers had to be filled with water by hand, and in this work valuable assistance was readily given by the soldiers and marines in the train. Just before we were enabled to leave Brent, we were visited for the first time by the clergyman of the parish, and our final leave-taking was celebrated by three sarcastic cheers for 'Dr. Parr' and for 'Brent.' The passengers in this train included Lieutenant Rice, of the Essex Regiment; Mr. R. Bayly, J.P., of Plymouth (who succeeded in getting through to his home on Wednesday) Miss Sykes, and a nurse who was travelling from Scarborough to the South Devon and East Cornwall Hospital, Plymouth."

It is only fair to the station-master at Brent, and to the residents of the town generally, to repeat that this description has been extensively contradicted, and among others, by Mr. Robert Bayly, of Plymouth, who was another of the detained passengers. Mr. Stumbles, however, has adhered to his description, and in more than one instance his version has been supported. Among other interesting details of the week in Brent, is the account of the arrival of the first newspaper, a copy of the Western Morning News, which was brought over from Totnes on the Thursday morning by an adventurous policeman, who successfully undertook the dangerous walk. This paper was eagerly sought after, it having been the first account of the doings in the outer world seen since Monday, and one of the enforced sojourners in Brent is said to have paid five shillings for the use of the paper for one hour. The fortunate possessor of the journal declared that he had been offered two pounds for it, and had declined to trade.

At Totnes a number of passengers were detained, among them being a reporter of the Western Morning News, who went to the town on Monday to report a meeting, and was only released on the following Friday night. A number of passengers who left Friary Station, Plymouth, by the 3·47 P.M. South Western train on Thursday, were taken into Tavistock on the following day, after having spent the night at Lydford. Instances innumerable of the same character occurring on the Launceston and other lines could be related, but as their points of interest bear such a strong resemblance to each other, it is unnecessary to proceed further with them.

Thursday, March 12th, was a day of very severe weather, and the efforts of the hundreds of men working on the various lines to clear the snow and also to release some of the buried trains were seriously retarded. By the end of the week, however, things were beginning to assume their normal aspect, and the trains were running with tolerable punctuality. The telegraph service, in a deplorable condition of collapse throughout the week, was restored, and the masses of accumulated correspondence in the post offices were sent on to their destinations. The labour of clearing the lines was as dangerous as it was arduous, and unhappily an accident, proving fatal to one man, occurred during the operations on the Great Western Railway at Ivybridge. Work was being carried on at this spot under the superintendence of Mr. C. E. Compton, and a number of men were engaged in getting an engine on to the line, when a train dashed round a curve among the workmen killing one, named William Stentiford, of Plymouth, and seriously injuring two others. The lamentable occurrence was purely accidental, and that this was the only fatal occurrence during the whole of the operations of this most trying week indicates the care that was taken by all those engaged on the railways from the highest officials downwards. Such an experience was never before met with, and it was a matter of congratulation that those in power were able to cope with the difficulties as well as they did. No doubt some practical lessons were learnt during the operations, and should such a visitation unhappily occur in the West of England on any future occasion, the experience gained during this terrible week will not be without value.