Chapter XXV: Appendix: , No. 3 (5)

[66] As these sheets are going through the press, we find circulating through the newspapers the following account of _carriage accidents only_ in the streets of London for 1866 and the first nine months of the present year:—“Of the persons who frequented the streets of London last year, 205 were killed by horses and carriages of various kinds, or, on an average, four persons met with a violent death by this class of accidents every week. In 1865 the number was still greater, 232 persons being killed by street vehicles. These numbers, however, only represent the cases which terminated fatally; of those persons who were seriously, but not fatally, injured, there is no record. Of the 205 deaths in 1866, 36, or 17·4 per cent., were the result of falls from vehicles, and 17, or 8·4 per cent., occurred by collisions, &c., death resulting through being knocked down by or thrown out of vehicles. Of the number of persons who were run over, 14, or 6·6 per cent., were killed by omnibuses; 7, or 3·6 per cent., by carriages; 25, or 12·0 per cent., by cabs; 105, or 51 per cent, by heavy vehicles, such as carts, vans, drays, and waggons. In glancing at these results, it is worthy of notice that the greater portion of the fatal carriage accidents in the streets of London were not caused by cabs or omnibuses, the deaths by these vehicles amounting only to 29 per cent. of the total number. One-half of the accidents were caused by the heavy vehicles, and about 20 per cent. of the total deaths occurred among carters and carmen. Of persons run over, about 77 per cent. were males and 23 per cent. were females. Among males 26 per cent. of the deaths were those of children under ten years of age; among females about 60 per cent. of the deaths were those of children under ten years of age. The number of carriage accidents in the streets of London which terminated fatally in the first nine months of 1867 was 129.”

Dr. Ogden Fletcher, the Medical Officer of the Manchester, Sheffield and Lincolnshire Railway, in his recent interesting work, _Railways in their Medical Aspects_, to which, as well as to the subject upon which it treats, we hope to refer hereafter, says that there are five times more people killed by carriages in the streets of London every year, than were killed on all the railways in Great Britain during any of the last seven or eight years.

[67] The aggregate number of vessels entering and clearing outwards from all the ports of the United Kingdom in 1866 was 403,598, being 5,657 less than in 1865. The total tonnage of these vessels in 1866 was 31,262,450, of which 21,255,726 was British, and 10,006,724 was foreign. Of this total tonnage about a third, or 10,761,413 was tonnage of steam vessels, of which 9,484,594 was British, and 1,276,819 was foreign. Thus, whilst the steam tonnage of Great Britain was not far from being one-half of its total tonnage, the tonnage of foreign steam vessels frequenting the ports of the United Kingdom was only a little more than an eighth of its total tonnage. The tonnage of the ships lost or damaged on or near the British coasts in 1866 was 428,000. The _Times_, in the course of a most interesting and lengthened summary of ocean and coast disasters for 1866, speaks in terms of just indignation of the unseaworthy state that colliers and other coasting vessels, but especially colliers, are permitted to go to sea, and concludes by stating that, “The aggregate loss of life is enormous, and so is the aggregate destruction of property. The former is a species of woe inflicted on humanity; the latter is practically a tax upon commerce. While the art of saving life on the coast is understood, thanks to the progress of science and to the stout hearts of our coast population, the art of preserving property is as yet but imperfectly known among us, and still more imperfectly practised.

“On reviewing the dismal record, we are bound to take courage from the many gratifying facts it reveals in regard to saving of life, which, after all, is our principal object in commenting on this doleful _Register_. Noble work has been done, and is doing, in that way, which has not only elicited the admiration of the British public, but also that of many foreign nations; and this was strikingly illustrated last July by the International Jury of the Paris Universal Exhibition awarding to the National Lifeboat Institution one out of their nineteen great gold medals, in acknowledgment of the important services it had rendered to shipwrecked sailors of all nations, hundreds of whom, and thousands of our own hardy sailors, it had rescued from a premature grave, and many homes from the desolation of widowhood and orphanage.”

[68] The return issued by the Statistical Committee of Lloyd’s, October, 1867, shows that the number of lives lost by casualties to ships for the half-year ending the 30th of June last was 687, being only 209 less than during the whole of 1866. 503 crews of sailing ships were saved and 17 crews of steamers. The number of crews drowned was 29. The return goes on to state that the total number of casualties to sailing ships in the half-year was 5,525, to steamers 500. The number of ships missing was 64, of steamers 7. Total number of ships abandoned 228, steamers 5. Of these 190 were totally lost. The number of collisions to ships is 808, to steamers 147; total, 955. Of these 85 were sunk. The number of vessels sinking from causes other than collision was 281. The number of ships stranded was 1,483, of steamers 126. There were three cases of piracy. The number of vessels burnt or on fire was 65 ships and 5 steamers. The number of cases of mutiny, sickness, casualties to crew, and refusing to do duty was 201. There were 11 ships waterlogged. Totally lost, 1,072 ships and 37 steamers.

[69] Captain Shaw, the Superintendent of the London Fire Brigade, stated in his evidence before a Committee of the House of Commons that sat in 1867, on protection of life and property from fire, that there were 681 fires in London in 1840, one to every 2,800 inhabitants, and one to every 379 houses. In 1850 the number of fires was 868, or one to every 2,673 inhabitants, one to every 347 houses. In 1860 the fires were 1,056, one to every 2,613 inhabitants, one to every 335 houses. The fires in 1865 were unexceptionally high—1,502, or one to every 1,900 inhabitants, one to every 250 houses. In 1866 the number of fires was 1,338. The “heavy fires” are now about 25 per cent. of the whole number, but in 1860 they were above 40 per cent. The average sum spent upon a fire in London for many years has been £18. But fires are much more expensive in America: Brooklyn (opposite New York), costs £35 each fire; Baltimore, £90; Boston, £157; New Orleans, £172. Of 29,069 fires which have occurred in the last 33 years in London, candles caused 11 per cent. of them; curtains nearly 10; gas nearly 8; flues nearly 8; sparks from pipes, 4½; lucifer matches, children playing, smoking tobacco, and stoves, each, 1½ per cent. The Fire Insurance Companies and the Fire Brigade consider one-third of the London fires as involved in suspicion; but Sir Thomas Henry, the Chief Magistrate of Bow Street, does not concur in this opinion.

[70] A proof of the value and economy of steel rails is afforded by what has occurred at Chalk Farm station. At this part of the London and North-Western Railway the traffic is literally unceasing. On one line, for a short length, are ordinary rails, and Bessemer rails on the other. The latter have already outlived twenty-five sets of iron rails, and appear very nearly as fresh as when first laid down. Very nearly the same result has been obtained at the locomotive shops of the London, Chatham and Dover Company.

“STEEL-LAID RAILWAYS.—A line of railway laid in steel is now well known to be superior, in respect of economy of working, to one laid in iron. It requires less labour in keeping up, and, all other things being equal, it can be maintained in a better running condition than an iron way. The reasons of its superiority are apparent enough. A yielding roadway is a bad roadway for traction; and while bad at all speeds, it is especially bad at high speeds. Whatever may be the explanation, the following are well-established facts:—The axle friction of carriages, and the mere resistance to rolling along a smooth rail, are constant at all speeds. The actual resistances to the motion of trains upon our best railways are, however, considerably greater at high than at low speeds, and the excess is very much beyond that known to be due merely to the atmosphere. Besides the latter resistance, there is a considerable resistance known to increase in the ratio of the square of the speed, and it is, we believe, the universal custom of the profession to speak of this as the resistance due to “concussions;” and what but an irregular, uneven, or yielding line can cause concussions? These increased resistances apply to lines in good and even first-rate condition, and are much greater on lines not well kept up. The constant resistances are but from 8 lb. to 10 lb. per ton for the engine, tender, and train, so that the resistances due to “concussions” are about equal to the constant resistances at 40 miles an hour, and twice as great at 60 miles an hour. At the high and increasing speed at which railways are now worked, these “concussions,” due to the irregularities of our lines, thus absorb the principal portion of our locomotive power, and entail a heavy charge in the shape of working expenses. But for these “concussions” our lines might be worked, probably, at 35 per cent. instead of 50 per cent. of their present gross receipts, there being always a considerable proportion of the working charges which, like management, station attendance, &c., are independent of the condition of the line. Although we have no precise data to show the superior working condition of a steel-laid, as compared with an iron-laid line, it is notorious and beyond dispute that the steel lines are worked at less expense, not only so far as renewals of rails are concerned, but in respect also of maintenance of way, locomotive power, and wear and tear of carriage and waggon stock. Steel rails, by their superior hardness, strength, and stiffness, approach much nearer than iron to the mathematical planes to which all rails should conform, in order to diminish the resistance to traction to a _minimum_. Taking the working expenses of railways at their present average rate, it would be a low estimate indeed to say that, even apart from all consideration of the _renewals_ of rails, the superiority of steel over iron rails does not amount to at least 2d. per train mile, taking into account the saving of locomotive power, wear of carriage and waggon stock, maintenance of way, &c. At this rate a line, having fifty trains each way daily, and having 240 tons of steel per mile of double line, would save, yearly, £304 per mile of way, equal to more than 25s. per ton of the steel in the line. One great objection heretofore made to the introduction of steel has been the extent to which the compound interest upon its increased cost would mount up in a series of years; but even if the saving in working expenses were but half that estimated above, it would fully pay for the _whole_ interest of steel, at £12. 10s. per ton, at which rate steel rails are now often sold. Under the hardest wear, steel rails have outworn twenty-five times their weight of iron, and no estimate now made of their service is ever less than that of a three-fold durability over iron; but if their durability was only as much greater than that of iron as their cost is greater, or even if it were absolutely no greater, it is virtually certain that they would prove cheaper in use than iron, because of the superiority of working condition of a steel-laid as compared with an iron-laid line, and the consequent very considerable saving in working expenses.” Abridged from _Engineering_, October 11, 1867.

[71] The first admission of crinoline into England is thus described by Miss Agnes Strickland in Vol. 3 of her “_Lives of the Queens of England_”:—“On the day of St. Erkenwald, the 14th of November, 1501, writes the herald to whom we are indebted for the particulars of the marriage of Prince Arthur with Princess Catherine of Arragon, the Duke of York led the infanta from the Bishop’s Palace to St. Paul’s. Strange diversity of apparel of the country of Hispania is to be ‘_descriven_,’ for the bride wore, at the time of her marriage, upon her head a coif of white silk with a scarf bordered with gold and pearl and precious stones, five inches and a half broad, which veiled great part of her visage and of her person; this was the celebrated Spanish mantilla. Her gown was very large, the body with many plaits, and beneath the waist certain round hoops bearing out their gowns (those of the princess and of the four Spanish maids of honour who attended her) from their bodies, after their country manner. Such was the first arrival of the famous farthingale in England.” Ladies, a friend of ours recently asked us, “What is the length of a crinoline”? Having of course “given it up,” he informed us that it is usually _over two feet_!

[72] Miss Aldworth of Newmarket House, County of Limerick, concealed herself in the case of a clock in the room of a house at which a masonic lodge was held. Before the completion of the day’s proceedings her hiding place was discovered. She was immediately brought forth and on the spot she was made a mason. She took the oaths, and like a good member of the craft as she was, never divulged the secret to the day of her death. Even now (1867) her insignia as a masoness are preserved with religious care at Newmarket House, and the chair in which she used to sit when at her lodge is in the dining room; above the chair is her portrait.

[73] The latest statistics show that there are 50,117 miles of railway in Europe; North and South America, 40,866; Africa, about 300; India, 4,070; Australia, 480. Of the North and South American railways, 33,896, belong to the United States, and there are about 16,000 miles constructing. Almost all American railways are very inferior in point of construction to European railways, and they are nearly all single lines. They have, however, been of inestimable value in developing the material resources of the country.

[74] Penny-a-lining, so called, because it is paid for by the newspapers at the rate of three-half-pence a line!

[75] There is only one part or portion of railway practice which, with all our railway experience, we are unable to account for. Yet the practice is universal. We (always in the singular number, we are plural, editorially, only) have travelled in a great many parts of the world, but wherever we have gone we have never found but one undeviating and unalterable rule among the door-opening and the door-closing portion of the railway community. Is it an instinct or an abstract idea with them that the door of a compartment cannot be closed unless the closing be accompanied with a loud and violent bang, which pleases nobody and sets nervous persons into a state of glowing trepidation? Or is there a masonry among the officials of this grade, from participation in which the higher classed portion of the railway fraternity is excluded, the secret of the craft being that all railway carriage doors must be banged as they close them? Dear colleagues of the class of carriage door shutters, country station masters, inspectors, ticket collectors, guards of the first class, guards of the second, and temporary guards, foremen porters, ordinary porters and good-looking porters, porters of the strong back, and porters of brachial muscle much developed, let us entreat and implore you to retire from the brotherhood and learn to close carriage doors gently, quietly, and as becomes your gentle natures. There is a Latin proverb which means do your work vigorously, but be gentle in the mode of doing it,—_suaviter in modo, fortiter in re_. One word from a cordial friend to a wise man, suffices.

[76] Turpin’s ride to York turns out, notwithstanding the bright and vivid description of it by Mr. Harrison Ainsworth, to have no real existence as regards his hero. Nevertheless, Mr. Ainsworth had fact for the foundation of his story, a noted burglar of the latter end of the 17th century having actually ridden, after the commission of a great and daring robbery, from, if we recollect rightly, Stamford or some place to the south of it, and on his trial (for he was subsequently indicted) he was able to produce persons who had seen him in York early the following morning. The evidence, however, against him on other points was clear and decisive, and he paid the penalty for his crime, in the manner usual in those days; they hanged him.

[77] The oldest of the great public schools, or “grammar” schools, of England is Winchester, founded in 1381 by William of Wykeham, a Bishop of Winchester, the year after he had founded “New College,” Oxford. There is no doubt, however, that Winchester school, in its original shape, is of much greater antiquity than the time of William of Wykeham, some authorities tracing its existence to the introduction of Christianity into Britain. It has the only English motto of all our great public schools, “Manners makyth man.” Royalty frequently visited the school for the first two hundred years after Wykeham’s endowment. In 1570, Queen Elizabeth pleasantly asked one of the scholars whether he had ever endured the famous Winton birching. He happily replied from the “Æneid,”

“Infandum, Regina, jubes renovare dolorem,”

which produced a most gracious smile from Her Majesty.

Eton College was founded by Henry VI. The Procuratory is dated the 12th September, 1441; but the Charter is dated twenty-nine days later—on the 11th October; and the royal endowment was not completed until 1443. The most pious, but most unfortunate, of English sovereigns took the warmest interest in the success of the school, and whenever he heard of any of the boys visiting his officers and attendants at Windsor Castle, he would send for them, and admonish them to follow the paths of virtue; besides his words, he would give them money to win over their good will, saying to them “_Sitis boni pueri; mites et docibiles, et servi Domini_.” “Be good boys, be gentle and docile, and servants of the Lord.” The motto of Eton is, “_Floreat Etona_.”

John Colet, Dean of St. Paul’s, founded St. Paul’s School in 1509. The motto is “_Doce, Disce, et Discede_.”

Westminster School (the motto of which is “_In patriam populum que_”) was established in its present shape by Henry VIII.; but it existed as a school even in the time of Edward the Confessor. The Letters Patent of Queen Elizabeth, who took an interest in the school from the patronage bestowed upon it by her father, are the oldest extant about it. They bear date the 11th of June, 1560.

Rugby School, founded by Laurence Sheriff, grocer and citizen of London, celebrated the tricentenary of its existence on the 26th of June, 1867, with Dean Stanley, of Westminster, as President. Rugby’s motto is, “_Nihil sine Laborando_.”

The Royal Grammar School of Shrewsbury was founded by the Corporation of the town in 1549; and in two years afterwards obtained from Edward VI. for its endowment, a portion of the estates of the dissolved collegiate churches. Its motto is “_Intus si recte, ne labora_.”

Edward VI. founded several grammar schools, the first of which was that of Norwich, but his name is more intimately associated with that of Christ’s Hospital, London (popularly known as the Blue Coat School), than with any other. He died on the 6th July, 1553, having just one month previously signed its charter of incorporation. Christ’s Hospital is without a motto.

The foundation of the Merchant Tailors’ School is due to the wisdom and munificence of the ancient “Company of the Marchaunt Tailors,” which, according to Stow, has been a guild or fraternity from time immemorial. The statutes of the School, which has for a motto “_Homo plantat, homo irrigat, sed Deus dat incrementum_,” were authorised and sanctioned on the 24th September, 1561.

The motto of Harrow is “_Stet fortuna domus_.”

The site upon which Charterhouse School stands was purchased by Thomas Sutton in 1611 from Thomas Earl of Suffolk, fourth son of the fourth Duke of Norfolk (beheaded in Queen Elizabeth’s reign), for the establishment of a hospital for the support of poor and aged people, and a free school for the maintenance and education of poor children. Letters patent to carry out both these objects were immediately granted by James I.; the motto is “_Floreat Æternum Carthusiana Domus_.” For full particulars of these schools see “The Great Schools of England,” by Howard Staunton; and for details concerning the early history of Eton College, and of all authors who have written respecting it previous to 1858, Vols. 1 and 2 of the “_Annals of Windsor_,” by Messrs. R. R. Tighe and J. E. Davis, should be consulted.

[78] Byron has left us the following recollection of his Harrow School-boy days:—

Ye scenes of my childhood, whose loved recollections
Embitter the present, compared with the past;
Whence science first dawned on the powers of reflection,
And friendships were formed too romantic to last;

Where fancy yet joys to retrace the resemblance
Of comrades in friendship and mischief allied;
How welcome to me your ne’er-fading remembrance,
Which rests in the bosom, though hope is denied!

Again I revisit the hills where we sported,
The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought;
The school where, loud warned by the bell, we resorted,
To pore o’er the precepts by pedagogues taught.

Again I behold where for hours I have ponder’d,
As, reclining at eve, on yon tombstone I lay;
Or round the steep brow of the churchyard I wander’d,
To catch the last gleam of the sun’s setting ray.

I once more view the room, with spectators surrounded,
Where, as Zanga, I trod on Alonzo overthrown;
While to swell my young pride, such applauses resounded,
I fancied that Mossop himself was outshone;

Or, as Lear, I poured forth the deep imprecation,
By my daughters of kingdoms and reason deprived;
Till, fired by loud plaudits and self-adulation,
I regarded myself as Garrick revived.

Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you!
Unfaded your memory dwells in my breast;
Though sad and deserted, I ne’er can forget you,
Your pleasures may still be in fancy possest.

To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me,
While fate shall the shades of the future unroll!
Since darkness o’ershadows the prospect before me,
More dear is the beam of the past to my soul.

But if through the course of the years which await me,
Some new scene of pleasure should open to view,
I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me,
“Oh, such were the days which my infancy knew.”

Byron used to lay on the tombstone above referred to for hours, when labouring, even as a boy, under those morbid excitements that embittered his comparatively short life. It is still called “Byron’s Tombstone.”

[79] Subjoined is Sir Francis Head’s description of the Wolverton Refreshment Rooms as they were in their palmy days:—

“In dealing with the British Nation, it is an axiom among those who have most deeply studied our noble character, that to keep John Bull in beaming good humour it is absolutely necessary to keep him always _quite full_. The operation is very delicately called ‘refreshing him;’ and the London and North-Western Railway Company having, as in duty bound, made due arrangements for affording him, once in about every two hours, this support, their arrangements not only constitute a curious feature in the history of railway management, but the _dramatis personæ_ we are about to introduce, form, we think, rather a strange contrast to the bare arms, muscular frames, heated brows, and begrimed faces of the sturdy workmen of railways.

“The Refreshment Establishment at Wolverton is composed of—1. A matron or generalissima. 2. Seven very young ladies to wait upon the passengers. 3. Four men and three boys, ditto ditto. 4. One man-cook, his kitchen-maid, and his two scullery-maids. 5. Two housemaids. 6. One still-room maid, employed solely in the liquid duty of making tea and coffee. 7. Two laundry-maids. 8. One baker, and one baker’s boy. 9. One garden-boy; and lastly, what is most significantly described in the books of the establishment—10. ‘An odd-man.’

“‘_Homo sum, humani nihil à me aliemun puto._’

“There are also eighty-five pigs and piglings, of whom hereafter.

“The manner in which the above list of persons, in the routine of their duty, diurnally revolve in the ‘scrap drum’ of their worthy matron, is as follows:—very early in the morning—in cold winter long before sunrise—‘the odd-man’ wakens the two housemaids, to one of whom is intrusted the confidential duty of awakening the seven young ladies exactly at seven o’clock, in order that their ‘première toilette’ may be concluded in time for them to receive the passengers of the first train, which reaches Wolverton at 7·30 a.m. From that time until the departure of the passengers by the York mail train, which arrives opposite the refreshment room at about eleven o’clock at night, these young persons remain on duty, continually vibrating, at the ringing of a bell, across the rails (they have a covered passage high above them, but they never use it), from the north refreshment room for down passengers to the south refreshment room, constructed for hungry up-ones. By about midnight, after having philosophically divested themselves of the various little bustles of the day, they all are enabled once again to lay their heads on their pillows, with the exception of one, who in her turn, assisted by one man and one boy of the establishment, remains on duty receiving the money, &c., till four in the morning for the up mail. The young person, however, who in her weekly turn performs this extra task, instead of rising with the others at seven, is allowed to sleep on till noon, when she is expected to take her place behind the long table with the rest.

“The scene in the refreshment room at Wolverton, on the arrival of every train, has so often been witnessed by our readers, that it need hardly be described. As these youthful handmaidens stand in a row behind bright silver urns, silver coffee pots, silver tea pots, cups, saucers, cakes, sugar, milk, with other delicacies over which they preside, the confused crowd of passengers simultaneously liberated from the train, hurry towards them with a velocity exactly proportionate to their appetites. The hungriest face first enters the door, ‘magnâ comitante catervâ,’ followed by a crowd very much resembling in eagerness and joyous independence the rush at the prorogation of Parliament of a certain body following their leader from one house to the bar of what they mysteriously call ‘another place.’ Considering that the row of young persons have among them all only seven right hands, with but very little fingers at the end of each, it is really astonishing how, with such slender assistance, they can in the short space of a few minutes manage to extend and to withdraw them so often; sometimes to give a cup of tea, sometimes to receive half-a-crown, of which they have to return two shillings, then to give an old gentleman a plate of warm soup, then to drop another lump of sugar into his nephew’s coffee cup, then to receive a penny for a bun, and then again threepence for four ‘lady’s fingers.’ It is their rule, as well as their desire, never, if they can possibly prevent it, to speak to anyone; and although sometimes, when thunder has turned the milk, or the kitchen-maid over-peppered the soup, it may occasionally be necessary to soothe the fastidious complaints of some beardless ensign by an infinitesimal appeal to the generous feelings of his nature, we mean, by the hundred-thousandth part of a smile, yet they endeavour on no account ever to exceed that harmless dose. But while they are thus occupied at the centre of the refreshment table, at its two ends, each close to a warm stove, a very plain matter-of-fact business is going on, which consists of the rapid uncorking of, and the emptying into large tumblers, innumerable black bottles of what is not inappropriately called ‘stout,’ inasmuch as all the persons who are drinking the dark foaming mixture, wear heavy great-coats, with large wrappers round their necks, in fact are _very_ stout. We regret to have to add, that among these thirsty customers are to be seen, quite in the corner, several silently tossing off glasses of brandy, rum, and gin.

“But the bell is violently calling the passengers to ‘Come! come away!’ and as they have all paid their fares, and as the engine is loudly hissing—attracted by their pockets as well as by their engagements, they soon, like the swallows of the summer, congregate together, and then fly away.

“It appears from the books that the annual consumption at the refreshment room averages 182,500 Banbury cakes; 56,940 Queen’s cakes; 29,200 patés; 36,500 lbs. flour; 13,140 lbs. butter; 2,920 lbs. coffee; 43,800 lbs. meat; 5,110 lbs. currants; 1,277 lbs. tea; 5,840 lbs. loaf sugar; 5,110 lbs. moist sugar; 16,425 quarts of milk; 1,095 quarts of cream; 8,088 bottles of lemonade; 10,416 soda water; 45,012 stout; 25,692 ale; 5,208 ginger beer; 547 port; 2,095 sherry; 666 gin; 464 rum; 2,392 brandy. To the eatables are to be added or driven, the eighty-five pigs, who after having been from their birth most kindly treated and most luxuriously fed, are impartially promoted, by seniority, one after another, into an infinite number of pork pies.

“Having, in the refreshment sketch which we have just concluded, partially detailed at some length, the duties of the seven young persons at Wolverton, we feel it due to them, as well as to those of our readers who, we perceive, have not yet quite finished their tea, by a very few words to complete their history. It is never considered quite fair to pry into the private conduct of any one who performs his duty to the public with zeal and assiduity. The warrior and the statesman are not always immaculate; and although at the opera ladies certainly sing very high, and in the ballet kick very high, it is possible that their voices and feet may reach rather higher than their characters. Considering, then, the difficult duties which our seven young attendants have to perform—considering the temptations to which they are constantly exposed, in offering to the public attentions which are ever to simmer and yet never to boil; it might be expected that our inquiries should considerately go no further than the arrival at 11 p.m. of the ‘up York mail.’ The excellent matron, however, who has charge of these young people—who always dine and live at her table—with honest pride declares, that the breath of slander has never ventured to sully the reputation of any of those who have been committed to her charge; and as this testimony is corroborated by persons residing in the neighbourhood and very capable of observation, we cannot take leave of the establishment without expressing our approbation of the good sense and attention with which it is conducted; and while we give credit to the young ladies for the character they have maintained, we hope they will be gratefully sensible of the protection they have received.” _Stokers and Pokers_, by the author of “Bubbles from the Brunnen of Nassau.” London: John Murray, Albermarle Street, 1849.

[80] Ladies, it is sometimes dangerous to conceal your exact ages. We will give you a case in point, that only occurred in the summer of the present year. A lady, as far back as 1825, insured her life for the benefit of her relatives. She only died a few months ago; but on coming to compare her age, as given by herself at the time of effecting the insurance, with that on the certificate of births required by the office, to be obtained, after death, from the parish register, it was found that although the lady was in reality 42 years, in 1825, she only owned to 35, and paid premiums on that scale for 42 years. The office, had it been so disposed, might have declared the policy absolutely forfeited. It took a more generous course; the policy was admitted, as a claim, but from the amount that would have come to the legatees, if all had been in order, the difference of premium between 35 and 42, for 42 years, with interest and compound interest thereon, from the period that each premium became due, was deducted. The legatees thus received not more than half the nominal amount stated on the policy.

[81] Both ladies have since been married. “No cards.” Were we a newspaper proprietor, we should charge two and sixpence additional for the two last words of this announcement.

[82] _Engineering_, of September the 27th, and October the 4th, 1867, contains several extremely well executed views of some of the bridges and viaducts of the Highland Railway. “They are engraved,” says the Editor, “not because of any special peculiarities of their mechanical structure, but mainly on account of the fine character of the abutments and approaches; in short, the artistic qualities of their general design. For variety and originality, for pleasing outline and detail, and for their dignity and their harmony with the associations of the district traversed by the line, these bridges are admirable works in every respect. They have an artistic as distinguished from their merely material character, and they are, notwithstanding, economical structures.”

Mr. Joseph Mitchell, the engineer, by whom the line was constructed, read a paper descriptive of it at the Meeting of the British Association at Dundee in August last. This paper is given in full in _Engineering_ of September the 13th.

[83] Great, and it is hoped successful, efforts are now making to connect the North-East and the North-West of Scotland by a line to be made from Dingwall, eighteen miles beyond Inverness and the most western station of the Highland Railway, through Strathpeffer to Loch Carron, a distance of fifty miles, whence there will be steam communication with the Isle of Skye. The Dingwall and Skye Railway Company has been formed some time, but now, in consequence of the amount of capital subscribed, and the liberality of the landowners, application is to be made for an Act of Parliament to authorise the construction of the line; Mr. Matheson, M.P., is the Chairman of the Company. At the conclusion of its half-yearly meeting, held on the 30th October last, Mr. Kenneth Murray proposed a vote of thanks to the Chairman, Mr. Matheson, M.P., and in doing so, expressed his most cordial good wishes for the prosperity of the Skye Line. “Every thing,” said Mr. Murray, “that lays in my power to promote it as a shareholder and otherwise, I feel it my duty as a Ross-shire man to do, and every one who has the interests of the North of Scotland, and of the people at heart, must sympathise with the efforts made to open up the distant West country. To Mr. Matheson, almost solely, the very high merit of having pushed forward the scheme is due, and I think he has very strong claim on every gentleman, whether proprietor, farmer, or minister even, that they should come forward and assist him in an object so very dear to him, as no line projected for a long time had such a claim on public sympathy and on the purse of the public.” Mr. Matheson, in returning thanks, expressed the hope that by 1870 passengers from Edinburgh and Glasgow might reach Postree, the capital of Skye, in about thirteen hours, and passengers from Inverness in about six hours.

[84] The following is an extract from a speech delivered in October, 1867, by the Rev. Dr. Guthrie, on the occasion of re-opening the parochial schools at Niddrie. “I was once present in a congregation in the town of Thurso, which contained as many as 1,200 people, and, perhaps, you will hardly believe me when I tell you that on that occasion I saw what I never saw before, and what, I am sure, you never saw, and what I hope I shall never see again—I saw 600 people asleep! 600 people asleep! I happened at the time to be living with Sir George Sinclair, a very excellent gentleman, who resides in the immediate neighbourhood of that town. I told him what I had seen in the church. “Oh,” said he, “that is nothing to what I have seen myself; I have seen in almost every pew the whole people asleep, with only here and there an exception.” The Rev. Doctor’s opinion is that the cause of drowsiness in church, during sermon time, is “bad ventilation.” No doubt—— of the subject.

[85] The Post Office traducers of the railway are boastful enough of its services when it suits them to be so. Of Thurso it is thus written, at page 6 of the Postmaster-General’s Eleventh Report (undated)—“The most northern town of Scotland is Thurso, 755 miles distant from London, and the combined effect of these accelerations was to admit of a letter despatched from London on Monday night being delivered in Thurso early on Wednesday morning, and of its reply, if posted about four o’clock on Wednesday afternoon (“about;” is that the way in which letter receptacles are closed in the north of Scotland?), reaching London in time for the first delivery on Friday morning.” As the Post Office chooses to make unfair attacks upon railways, the Post Office must expect retaliation. Therefore, Mr. Seely, of the Admiralty, may we beg you to note there is no end of Post Office “pigs” that can be placed in your hands to work upon, and we beg you to take one, now, to start with. At the commencement of 1867, the department gave the year’s notice it is bound to give, to the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company, that its Mediterranean contracts should cease on the 31st of January, 1868. In March, 1867, advertisements were issued inviting tenders for the conveyance of these mails, the service to commence on the 1st of February, 1868. Attached to the form of tender are thirty-eight conditions. By the 31st of these it is stipulated that “the contract shall not be binding until it has lain on the table of the House of Commons for one month without disapproval, unless, previous to the lapse of that period, it has been approved by a resolution of the House.” We believe we were the first to call the public attention to the fact that, as the day for receiving tenders was Monday, the 16th of September, 1867, and as the new contractors would have to commence on the 1st of February, 1868, they would, in that case, not only incur all the risk of providing vessels and suitable arrangements for carrying on the service for a period that might last six years, but they would have actually commenced it several days before the contract could be laid upon the table of the House of Commons. This was in consequence of the House not usually meeting until the 3rd or 4th of February, and it might not be approved until the same date in the following month.

As soon as the blot had been hit it was discovered by the Post Office. It was therefore determined to postpone the commencement of a new contract for six months. The Peninsular and Oriental Steam Company was applied to, to continue the service for that period. The Company expressed its willingness to comply with the request, upon receiving an advanced price of ten shillings a mile instead of four shillings, the price now paid for the service. Mr. Hunt, the Secretary of the Treasury, in a debate upon this question and upon the attempt of the Post Office to place the conveyance of our eastern mails in the hands of _Compagnie des Messageries Impériales de la France_, designated the demand of the Company as “preposterous.” Whether that be so or not, the omission on the part of the officials of St. Martin’s-le-Grand, an omission or blunder which a junior clerk in a large commercial establishment would at once be dismissed for being guilty of, is to cost the country rather more than £60,000, equivalent to what the Post Office pays for over two millions miles of railway conveyance for mail bags.

_Punch_, in its number for the 2nd of November, 1867, has a vignette of Toby holding the envelope of a letter for Lord John Manners, Chief Commissioner of Works, and says, “I will not, for the moment, adopt the tone of my friend, the _Pall Mall Gazette_, who bitterly says, a new principle governs the performance of official duties in England. Elsewhere, where certain men are appointed to take part in the Government of a country, they understand that they are to do the duties of their offices forthwith. With us the understanding is quite different: no work is to be begun except under such emphatic demand as in private life would answer to the practice of regularly kicking your footman to the coal-scuttle, when the fire needs replenishing.” _Punch_ then reminds His Lordship, that at the commencement of this year it was resolved that the water of the lake in Regent’s Park should be drawn off, the mud of half a century be cleared away, and the lake be rendered shallow and safe for skaters this winter. _Punch_ having learned that, practically, nothing is done as yet, proceeds, “Here I repeat, my dear Lord John, is November. We shall have frost soon, and when the ice forms, the foolish crowds will be rushing upon it. I say no more. The rate at which Government work is done, singularly contrasts with the rate at which private work is performed. But, of course, John Bull’s servants never hurry themselves.” On the 30th of September we wrote to the Post Office, complaining that a letter posted in a London pillar box by a member of our family was not delivered to its address in London in due course. On the _25th of October_, an answer comes, the whole gist of which is, that as the letter was not delivered at the time expected, it could not have been posted at the time stated. It is hardly necessary to say, that this allegation is unfounded. On the 2nd of October, and again on the 8th, we wrote to complain of the continuous irregularity in the transmission of our book packets; in one instance a letter to us and a book-packet having been posted at Lombard Street post office, and by the same fingers at the same time. The letter came in two hours and a-half, the packet in 39 hours and 20 minutes. Exactly on the day of our closing this sheet for the press (the 8th November), the promised answer to our complaints was delivered. _Mr. Punch_ may well say, “John Bull’s servants never hurry themselves.” The Post Office not only never hurries itself, but, like Mr. Sturgey, the stockbroker, and other immaculate persons, considers itself always in the right.

[86] The latest advices from India announce the commencement, in November, 1867, of a passenger service between Calcutta and Bombay, which is to be done in 116 hours, or 4 days 20 hours. Of these, 80 are to be by rail and 36 in dâk. The journey by dâk will be between Jubbulpore and Nagpore, but the latter station will cease to be on the line of railway communication between Calcutta and Bombay when the existing gap is completed. Eighty hours in the railway seem very long, especially as it is intended, when the through line is opened, to run the whole distance between the two capitals in forty-four hours. The fares for the temporary service are to be 231 rupees (£23. 2s.) first class, 165 rupees (£16. 10s.) second class. Passengers, whether first or second, pay 100 rupees (£10) each by dâk between Jubbulpore and Nagpore.

[87] Can it be possible that the two following paragraphs, the first copied by _Engineering_ from an Indian journal, the second an original article—correctly represent “Travelling in India” at the present time, or even recently?

“Proceeding to the Calcutta terminus of the East Indian Railway, a line 1,000 miles in extent, we find a wretched little building with brick flooring and no punkahs, where tickets are so slowly issued as to raise doubts as to how the demands of a Derby-day would be discharged. Scores of coolies dash down upon our boxes, and, after much altercation, succeed in carrying them off. The waiting-rooms resemble lock-ups intended for the worst species of pick-pockets, and are simply uninhabitable. Parcel’s office, book-stalls, refreshment rooms, and other and more necessary conveniences are wanting. As there is no accommodation for any class of traveller, the public sit and stand about the verandahs and covered ways, choking the approaches, thus rendering impossible any attempt at order. The railway staff, represented by baboos and a few lounging slovenly policemen—there are no porters—are swallowed up in the crowd, whilst the two English sergeants content themselves with keeping the carriage-ways clear. All care appears to cease after the traveller has committed himself to the hands of the East India Railway. By-and-by the steam ferry-boat arrives, bells ring, and the living stream pours and crushes down a covered path, which, stopping suddenly, leaves some thirty or forty paces of open platform, upon which the sun and rain beat uninterruptedly, inconveniencing children, delicate women, old age, invalids, and what not. We are not in the least surprised; thirteen years of neglect has accustomed us to this sort of thing. Immediately afterwards, the Howrah side of the Hooghly is reached, and another uncovered platform presents itself; and if the crushing has hitherto been excessive, the natives being hustled and driven together like sheep, what shall be said of the scene at the Howrah station platform—a narrow stone terrace of considerable length, where other crowds of travellers are already collected and arriving, shrieking and gesticulating? A dense mass of natives, from which an Englishman, by pure muscular power, may occasionally be seen to break, flows onwards, and fills the railway carriages to overflowing. Resistance is out of the question. The pressure onward and inward towards the train, by a simple law of gravity, accomplishes the desired end amid cries and protestations, and forces the human units into acquiescence and the railway carriages. Anything is preferable to being left behind, and such is the option offered to four-fifths of the travelling native population of India. Whether the crowd be great or small, we have never known it considered necessary, so remarkable is the elasticity of the carriages, to afford extra accommodation. Nothing is impossible to the policeman’s baton and the brutality of a station-master, not even death itself. Last year no less than seven or eight corpses, if we remember rightly, were taken from the carriages of this line alone—victims to a barbarous system of overpacking. How many subsequently die from exhaustion will never be known. Men and women are often so crushed in third-class carriages as to be compelled to remain standing for the entire length of a journey, sometimes 400 or 500 miles, and at the hottest season of the year. Scenes daily occur at our Indian railway stations which make an Englishman’s blood burn with shame and anger, not that natives should oppress natives, but that his countrymen should be guilty of, and tolerate in others, acts at once unjust, cowardly, and inhuman; for, as the confusion subsides, many railway officials may be discerned, some on duty, others from the adjoining offices, all connected with the line—all supremely indifferent to its proper management—all smoking, spitting, and gossiping.

“By the time the train has reached Sahibgunge and Jumalpore, this free-and-easy behaviour has passed into absolute rowdyism and terrorism. At one station some respectable natives, travelling by second class are permitted to be insulted and dragged from their carriage by a drunken barrack-sergeant. At another, villagers who had been forced into intermediate class carriages, in course of being knocked about by policemen, are crying and protesting against being charged a fare not voluntarily incurred. Nowhere are the natives treated otherwise than as wild beasts. Tickets for distances under those paid for are constantly issued to the ignorant; and the possession of a small bundle too frequently, under threat of arrest, necessitates the payment of a douceur. These, and hundreds of similar occurrences, are forced upon the attention of the most unobservant European traveller in the course of a few stages. Much remains unseen. With the exception of the private rooms of station-masters, generally extravagantly furnished for men drawing small salaries, five stations out of six are filthy and altogether uncared for, useless to the public, and a disgrace to the line. In all the distance between Calcutta and Delhi, the railway traveller is only reminded of travelling at home by the unbroken absence of every pleasure he has been accustomed to associate with that species of progression. If he has not suffered personally, or not excessively, he has witnessed the sufferings of others more poor and humble, and to a right-thinking Englishman the difference will not appear very material; he will also have witnessed an amount of neglect of, and contempt for, the public such as, we venture to assert, was never before exhibited either in England or abroad.”

“TRAVELLING IN INDIA.—In October, 1866, a petition was presented to the Governor-General of India by the British Indian Association of the North-Western Provinces, bearing the signatures of 3,251 persons, praying for the introduction of certain reforms, with a view to affording further and better accommodation for the native travellers, who constitute by far the greatest source of revenue to the railway companies. The construction of railways in India has, as a matter of course, put a stop to the old modes of transit, and the natives have therefore no alternative but to resort to them as a means of conveyance from one place to another; but the accommodation provided for them, either at the stations or in the railway carriages, would, from their complaints, appear to fall far short of what is required.

“One of the principal points to which attention is directed by the memorial is the want of shelter and accommodation at the different stations for third-class passengers. These passengers consist of the poor, the ignorant, and the helpless; many among them are weak and feeble, some sick and old, many women and children. These have always to wait in crowds of hundreds, for several hours at a time, in an open and unsheltered place to purchase their tickets. The few rich and wealthy have waiting-rooms, or the sheltered platform to accommodate them; but the masses of the poor have absolutely no shelter at all. It cannot be expected from these that they should come in only at the proper time, for most of them have but an indefinite idea of time, and a large number come in from surrounding villages and rural districts where no time is kept. But, besides this, the trains themselves arrive so very irregularly—sometimes six hours behind the time—that, without any fault of the passengers, they are compelled to wait; and whilst thus waiting, there is no shelter to be had from the fierce rays of the sun, from the heavy and drenching showers of rain, from the hot winds and clouds of dust, or from the cold cutting blast. In winter, in summer, and in the rains, at all times alike, these masses of weak, ill-clad human beings are left exposed to all the inclemencies of the wind and weather, and suffer and contract diseases which not rarely result in death.

“Another complaint is of the want of proper restaurants for the same class of people, the want of proper nourishment, especially in long journeys, being no less the fruitful source of disease and suffering than the want of proper shelter and accommodation, and, owing to their prejudices of caste, life is often sustained during the railway journeys under great difficulties by the Hindoos and Mohammedans. They also complain of the absence of medical assistance in the event of an accident, and request that some one possessed of medical experience and surgical training may be placed in medical charge of each through train.