LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VI, Issue 610, 2 June 1876, Page 3

LITERATURE.

A RAILWAY RUN. One dny in August of last year I travelled from Paddington to Exeter by the eleven forty-five tram on the Great Western Railway. 13y the courtesy of the management, I was permitted to travel in any portion of the train at pleasure, and to ask any questions respecting the working of the line, the signals, &c, of any of the officials. The eleven forty-five a.m. is the fastest train in the world ; and when I saw the huge and powerful engine on which my journey had to be performed, a slight feeling of nervousness came over me, because 1 then realised that, like it or not, having once started, there was no help for it but to remain where f was for seventy-seven miles. One glance, however, at the face of the polite enginedriver, Mr Price, was quite sufficient to re-

assure me, for there I saw clearly written, not only courage, but skill. The guard's whistle sounds, and I take my place on the fcot-plate of the engine. \\ e go slowly until we clear the outskirts of the station, and notwithstanding the great - - w r eight of the engine (38 tons), we have a few bumps over the points ; when, however, we are clear of little obstructions, it becomes quite evident that our iron monster means business. With a jaunty shake of his funnel, as much as to say, 'Look out, I'm coming !' he increases his speed ; the telegraph posts begin to fly past; the whirl, tear, and crash of the engine gets louder, so that with difficulty I can hear myself speak, and the speed becomes so great that I am fain to hold on, for very fear that I shall be shot off like a stone from a catapult. Onward still faster, for we are in the open country, with miles of straight road before us ; and now, were it not that we have profound confidence in the skill of those who laid down the rails, we should feel convinced that the "aid rails must be torn up—that nothing can keep them secure against the great speed and power of the monster engine. All this time the engineer, with placid face, keeps a sharp look-out with his hand on the controlling lever, ready at any moment for action, should any obstacle occur; whilst the cheery-faced stoker (a veritable Mr Toodles in appearance) every few minutes heaps great shovelfuls of coal into the jaws of the furnace. Just as we are going at a high speed, something appears to require adjustment near the funnel of the engine. With as much coolness as you or I would cross Hungerford Bridge, our engineer walks over the sde of the monster, and gives two or three turns to a screw—just as we are approaching a sharp curve on an embankment twenty feet high. I look upon his destruction as inevitable; hold on doubly tightly myself, under the certain impression that he, and most likely all of us, will be shot over. But no ; he quickly returns, as if the speed were of no importance to him, and as if all such things were mere matters ■ f course.

Presently, when we have accomplished about half our distance, the speed seems to flag a little, whereupon our engineer turns a couple of small screws at his feet: the effect is immediate and startling : fast as we were going before, the speed now is something terrific, and it requires an occasional glance at Mr Price's placid face to reassure me that all is right. People riding in railway trains, and seated comfortably in their carriages, have but a faint notion of the great speed at which they actually go when travelling by express. You must be on the engine, with nothing before you but a couple of small and apparently fragile iron rails, which it seems must be torn up. before you can have the least idea of what railway travelling actually is. On the broad gauge, owing to the great size and weight of the engine, there is comparatively little jolting and vibration; for when going at the greatest speed I am able to pour out a glass of wine without spilling a drop. At length we slacken speed, and Swindon station comes in view, which we reach, having performed the run of 77J miles from Paddington, without stopping, in a little more tan an hour and a quarter. Here, I take leave of my engine friends, having ascertained that the engine is called the Estafette, that it was born in September 1850, and renewed June 1870; that it is one of the, if not the best and most powerful on the line ; that it weighs 3S tons 8 cwt; and that during its lifetime it has travelled 666',Gt)5 miles —or consicterably more than half a million !

Pursuing my plan, I next enter the quarters of Mr Jones, the guard, who tells me he has conducted the express for twenty years, and ' I've never, sir,' says he, 'had any accident, not eren to take the skin off my finger ! I learn some useful facts from Mr Jones, and get some interesting anecdotes. He too seems to have eyes in every side of his head, so constantly is he on the lookout. * Don't you think, guard,' say J, ' that the trains ought to keep better time ? They are frequently very much behind.' ' Well, sir,' he replies, ' it's pretty nearly entirely the fault of the public. Passengers are greatly offendel if we don't wait for them when we see them running to catch the train. It only keeps you a minute, they say ; but just consider, sir—now, there's a parliamentary train to-night leaving Cornwall which will have to stop at eight) stations ; and suppose wo are only a minue, or even half a minute, behind at each station — see how that tells up—and, of course, you know that we must wait the advertised time before we start. Depend upon it, it's the people's own fault, because passengers won't keep their time.' Knowing how often I have only al'owed a minute to catch a train, I feel that what Mr 3 ones says is true, and am rebuked accordingly. 'Another cause of want of punctuality,' says the guard, 'is the fluctuating nature of the passenger traffic. The very train in which which we are travelling affords a remarkable instance of this. For some weeks the passengers leaving Paddington have been counted, and the fluctuation is really remarkable. On the first week of counting—on Monday, 90 passengers travelled; Tuesday, 116 ; Wednesday, 91 ; Thursday, 131; Friday, 56; Saturday, 172. And the variations are not affected, as you might suppose, by the days of the week. Without a sufficient knowledge of the subject, one would naturally say, " Oh, everybody knows that more people travel on a Saturday, and the railways ought to make preparations accordingly." But mark the actual truth. One week, 172 passengers travel on a Saturday ; the next, ISS ; and the third, only 125; whilst on one Friday, 5G ; on the next, 200; and on the thi'd, only (JO. And when we consider that not fn r e minutes before the stai ting of the train do the railway officials know how many passengers they have to provide carriages for, we must admit that it is wonderful that trains start with even an approach to punctuality—as increased numbers mean not only a crush at the bookingplace, and additional carriages to the train, but also an increase in the luggage to be labelled, and a heavy tax upon the energies of all the employes.' I learn a good deal more from my friend the guard ; and, amongst other matters, he tells me that passengers are in error when they imagine that the latter part of the train is the bet,t to travel in. ' People make a mistake, sir,' he says, ' when they try to get as far from the engine as they can—the lirst three or four carriages are the safest.' I obtained much valuable experience from my trip; and after a most exciting but pleasant run of four hours and a quarter, reached Exeter, where I horrified an hotel waiter by presenting myself with a face like a coalheaver's.

I should like to conclude with a few remarks of a. practical nature. Hail way managers often get more blame than they are entitled to, and arc made responsible for accidents over which they really have not the slightest control. Captain Tyler, whose experience is very great, remarks, ' that whatever the amount of care taken, the item of human fallibility will always remain, and wi'l be the cause of a certain number of accidents.' Yet, taking into consideration tiie enormous number of travellers who go by rail, one must admit that accidents are comparatively few. It will be interesting to glance at the amount of traffic on one or two of the lines.

The average number of trains running on each week day over the Metropolitan extension of the Chatham and Dover line (twelve miles) is 546 ; and the number of passengers conveyed over those twelve miles during six months is over seven millions. The Metropolitan Bail way conveyed on WhitMonday last over 244,000 persons. During the Whitsun week, over 1,088,000 passengers travelled on that underground line. One-sixteenth of the entire population of London made use of this railway in one day, without an accident. In the busiest time of an ordinary day—-that is to say, between nine and ten in the morning—a train passes over the line every forty-three seconds, or seven trains in live minutes. In the course of the day, 76S trains have to run backwards aid forwards. Safety is secured by insuring not »n interval of hme but of space between the several tiains, which is arranged by the operation of what is known as the Spagnioletti system of signals. During twelve years 294,258,635 persons have travelled by 'underground.' During a single twelvemonts, the Great Western Railway ran 255,986 trains; some of them contained seven hundred passengers ; and it is not an uncommon thing for an excursion train in three parts—each part containing six or seven hundred passengers —to arrive within a short time of each other at the terminus. Every trdn has its record —the time it starts, the time it arrives and departs from each station on its way, the time it passes every signal-post. Thus, the manager, if you ask him, will turn to a book, and tell you that of the 255,1)86 trains just alluded to, 138,646 arrived at their destination punctually to the minute; 48,785 not more than five minutes late ; and so en. There is no room in the present paper to a'lude to signalling, a system daily improving in its working, and gradually becoming more and more perfect.