Chapter XVII: Private Life

REMINISCENCES OF MR. BRUNEL’S PRIVATE LIFE--REMOVAL TO 18 DUKE
STREET, WESTMINSTER--HIS MARRIAGE, 1836--SPECIAL CONSTABLE IN
1848--MR. BRUNEL’S LOVE OF ART--HIS JOURNEY TO ITALY,
1842--ACCIDENT WITH THE HALF-SOVEREIGN, 1843--PURCHASE OF PROPERTY
IN DEVONSHIRE, 1847--HIS LIFE AT WATCOMBE--THE LAUNCH OF THE ‘GREAT
EASTERN,’ 1857--MR. BRUNEL’S FAILING HEALTH--JOURNEYS TO
SWITZERLAND AND EGYPT, 1858--LETTER FROM PHILÆ (FEBRUARY 12,
1859)--HIS LAST ILLNESS--HIS DEATH (SEPTEMBER 15,
1859)--FUNERAL--ADDRESS OF JOSEPH LOCKE, ESQ., M.P., AT THE
INSTITUTION OF CIVIL ENGINEERS (NOVEMBER 8, 1859).

Under any circumstances, and by whomsoever made, the attempt to describe Mr. Brunel’s home life must fail to satisfy those who knew him, and who remember him in the midst of his family or among his friends.

But those who did not know him, except as a professional man, or who are only acquainted with his works, will expect to find in these pages some account of his private life, and of the manner in which he spent those brief intervals of relaxation which he permitted himself to enjoy.

* * * * *

Although Mr. Brunel was never an idle man, he was able, until he obtained business on his own account, to enjoy many amusements from which in after life he was completely debarred.

This arose partly from his work under his father being near his own home and his friends, and partly from the power he possessed, and which never deserted him, of being able to throw aside cares and anxieties and to join with the utmost zest in passing amusements.

The following letter, relating to this time, is written by one who was Mr. Brunel’s constant companion during the period to which it refers:--

June 28, 1870.

‘Dear Isambard Brunel,--I will endeavour to supply you with some
reminiscences of your father, before he became a public man, and
was engrossed by the very severe labour of his profession.

‘The most striking feature in his character as a young man, and one
which afterwards produced such great results, was an entire
abnegation of self in his intercourse with his friends and
associates.

‘His influence among them was unbounded, but never sought by him;
it was the result of his love of fair play, of his uniform kindness
and willingness to assist them, of the confidence he inspired in
his judgment, and of the simplicity and high-mindedness of his
character.

‘From 1824 to 1832 he joined his friends in every manly sport; and
when, after his accident at the Tunnel, he was obliged to withdraw
from more violent exercise, he was still ready to co-operate in the
arrangements required to give effect to whatever was in hand.

‘Whether in boating, in pic-nic parties, or in private theatricals,
he was always the life and soul of the party; for his skilful
arrangements, as well as his never-failing invention and power of
adaptation of whatever came to hand, made him the invariable leader
in every amusement or sport in which he took part.

‘To ensure the success of his friends in a rowing match against
time, from London to Oxford and back, in 1828, he designed and
superintended the building of a four-oared boat, which, in length
and in the proportion of its length to its breadth, far exceeded
any boat of the kind which had then been seen on the Thames.

‘During that portion of the period to which these notes refer, when
your father was engaged at the Tunnel works, the freshness and
energy with which he joined in the amusements of his friends after
many consecutive days and nights spent in the Tunnel--for
frequently he did not go to bed, I might almost say, for weeks
together--surprised them all.

‘His power of doing without sleep for long intervals was most
remarkable. He also possessed the power, which I have never seen
equalled in any other man, of maintaining a calm and even temper,
never showing irritation even when he was bearing an amount of
mental and bodily fatigue which few could have sustained. His
presence of mind and courage never failed him, and it was
especially exhibited after the first irruption of water into the
Tunnel, when he descended in the diving-bell to examine the extent
of the disturbance of the bed of the river, and the injury, if any,
which had been done to the brickwork.

‘The bell could not be lowered deep enough, and he dropped himself
out of the bell, holding on by a rope, and ascertained by careful
examination that the brickwork was uninjured.

‘He was several minutes in the water; and upon this fact being
stated, many persons, and I think the officers of the Royal Humane
Society, denied the possibility of his retaining his consciousness
so long in the water, forgetting, which he did not, that his lungs
were filled with air at two and a half atmospheres’ pressure.

‘In 1830, he joined the Surrey Yeomanry and attended drill, and was
out with the troop to which he belonged on several occasions.

‘In this capacity he was as popular as in every other; but his
remarkable talent in obtaining personal influence, even among those
with whom he was comparatively a stranger, was about this time most
usefully exhibited during the election of his brother-in-law as
member for Lambeth.

‘He made friends and conciliated opponents among all classes of
electors--especially among working men, large bodies of whom he met
on several occasions--and among all shades of politicians; and to
his energy, good judgment and skilful arrangement of electioneering
details, which were not then so well understood as they now are,
very much of the success achieved was due.

‘No one, I believe, ever saw him out of temper or heard him utter
an ill-natured word. He often said that spite and ill-nature were
the most expensive luxuries in life; and his advice, then often
sought, was given with that clearness and decision, and that
absence of all prejudice, which characterised his opinions in
after-life.

‘All his friends of his own age were attached to him in no ordinary
degree, and they watched every step in his future career with pride
and interest.

‘In fact, he was a joyous, open-hearted, considerate friend,
willing to contribute to the pleasure and enjoyment of those about
him; well knowing his own power, but never intruding it to the
annoyance of others, unless he was thwarted or opposed by
pretentious ignorance; and then, though at times decided and severe
in his remarks, he generally preferred leaving such individuals to
themselves, rather than, by noticing them, to give prominence to
their deficiencies.

‘His appreciation of character was so exact, and his dislike to
anything approaching to vulgarity in thought or action or to undue
assumption was so decided, that to be his friend soon became a
distinction; and the extent to which his society was sought, not
only in private life, but in the scientific world, at this early
period, marked strongly the distinguishing features of his mind and
character.

‘In 1825 and 1826 he attended the morning lectures at the Royal
Institution, and the eagerness and rapidity with which he followed
the chemical discoveries which were then being made by Mr. Faraday,
showed the facility with which he gained and retained scientific
knowledge.

‘To write more would lead me to the events of a later period of his
life, in the history of which you require no aid from me;
nevertheless, I cannot refrain from adding a few words upon your
father’s personal and professional character, which was not, in my
opinion, adequately appreciated by the public.

‘His professional friends before his death, and his private friends
at all times, well knew the genius, the intense energy, and
indefatigable industry with which every principle and detail of his
profession was mastered; and both knew and valued the high moral
tone which pervaded every act of his life.

‘The public, however, did not see him under the same circumstances.

‘Their imperfect acquaintance with his character arose in a great
degree from his disregard of popular approbation, for he was never
so satisfied with his own work as to feel himself entitled to
receive praise in the adulatory style of modern writing, and he
preferred to work quietly in his own sphere, and to rely on the
intrinsic merits of his undertakings bringing their reward, rather
than to court temporary popularity.

‘The rapidity with which he gained a high position as a civil
engineer is the best evidence of his talents. He passed almost
direct from boyhood to an equality with any one then in the
profession--a position attained by the rapidity and accuracy with
which he could apply theory to practice, and support his
conclusions by mathematical demonstrations.

‘This knowledge, always used without ostentation, soon placed him
above most of his contemporaries; and his intimate acquaintance
with the strength and peculiarities of the various materials he had
to employ, and of the best and most economical mode of applying
them, impressed both directors and contractors with a degree of
confidence in his estimates and opinions which no one had before
possessed.

‘His power of observation was singularly accurate; he was not
satisfied with a hasty or superficial examination, nor with the
mere assertion of a fact; his mind required evidence of its
correctness before he could receive and adopt it. I may illustrate
this by a reference to the experiments he made with French
mesmerists, and the pains he took to expose the farce of
table-turning and its accompanying follies.

‘My object, however, by this addition to my note, is to dwell upon
the fact that he left a mark upon his profession which cannot be
obliterated. He set up a high standard of professional excellence,
and endeavoured to impress on all who were associated with him, or
under him professionally, that to attain the highest honours
required the strictest integrity, sound mathematical knowledge,
originality and accuracy of thought and expression, both in _viva
voce_ descriptions and in designs and working drawings, and a
practical acquaintance with the durability and strength of
materials, so as to know the best conditions under which each might
be applied.

‘It was his excellence in these respects, when still young, which
soon earned for him a great reputation as a witness before the
Committees of the Houses of Parliament.

‘His calmness and unobtrusive manner, when under severe
examination, or while attending public meetings, led many to think
him cold, and regardless of the feelings or interests of those with
whom he was associated; but nothing was further from his character,
as every one knew who was engaged in the consultations upon the
result of which future proceedings depended.

‘He was a prudent and cautious, but bold adviser, and a
warm-hearted and generous friend.

‘Yours faithfully,
‘W. HAWES.

‘Isambard Brunel, Esq.’

The events of the year 1835 brought with them, not unnaturally, other changes. At the beginning of 1836, he removed to 18 Duke Street, Westminster, a large house looking on St. James’s Park, and now (1870) the last in the street, next to the new India Office.

In July of the same year he married the eldest daughter of the late William Horsley, and granddaughter of Doctor Callcott. Of this marriage there was issue two sons and a daughter, all of whom survive him.

Although, as will be presently mentioned, he afterwards bought some property in Devonshire, the Duke Street house was always his home. He spent his life there, having his offices on the lower floors.

He had no wish to enter Parliament, although it had been more than once suggested to him to do so, and his work prevented his taking an active share, as an inhabitant of Westminster, in the concerns of his neighbourhood.

The only occasion on which he took a prominent part in local affairs was as a special constable in April 1848, when he acted as one of the two ‘leaders’ of the special constables in the district between Great George Street and Downing Street.

He was not without experience of the duties of a special constable, as he had been sworn in during the Bristol riots of 1830, and on that occasion saw active service. Happily, matters were better managed in London, and no actual collision took place between the constables, or the military, and the mob.

* * * * *

The extent to which Mr. Brunel kept his works in his own hands, and under his own superintendence, made it necessary for him to have a large amount of office accommodation; and the inconvenience of having branch offices in the streets near his house led him, in 1848, to enlarge his offices: with this object he added the adjoining house, 17 Duke Street, which he rebuilt. A large room on the ground floor, looking on the Park, was thenceforward his own office, and the room above was made the dining-room. It was decorated in the Elizabethan style, and was to have contained a collection of pictures illustrative of scenes in ‘Shakespeare,’ painted for him by the principal artists of the day. This project was never completely carried out, but several pictures (about ten in all) were painted and hung up, among them the ‘Titania’ of Sir Edwin Landseer. These subjects are again referred to in the following letter:--

February, 1870.

‘My dear Isambard,--You ask me to jot down for you any
reminiscences I have of your father’s love and feeling for art.

‘I remember with singular distinctness the first time I ever saw
him, when I was a lad of fourteen, and had just obtained my
studentship at the Royal Academy. He criticised with great keenness
and judgment a drawing which I had with me, and at the same time
gave me a lesson on paper straining. From that time till his death
he was my most intimate friend. Being naturally imbued with
artistic taste and perception of a very high order, his critical
remarks were always of great value, and were made with an amount of
good humour which softened their occasionally somewhat trying
pungency. He had a remarkably accurate eye for proportion, as well
as taste for form. This is evinced in every line to be found in his
sketch books, and in all the architectural features of his various
works.

‘So small an incident as the choice of colour in the original
carriages of the Great Western Railway, and any decorative work
called for on the line, gave public evidence of his taste in
colour; but those who remember the gradual arrangement and fitting
up of his house in Duke Street will want no assurance from me of
your father’s rare artistic feeling. He passed, I believe, the
pleasantest of his leisure moments in decorating that house, and
well do I remember our visits in search of rare furniture, china,
bronzes, &c., with which he filled it, till it became one of the
most remarkable and attractive houses in London. Its interest was
greatly increased when he formed that magnificent dining-room, now,
with the house of which it was a part, pulled down. This room, hung
with pictures, with its richly carved fireplace, doorways, and
ceiling, its silken hangings and Venetian mirrors, lighted up on
one of the many festive gatherings frequent in that hospitable
house, formed a scene which none will forget who had the privilege
of taking part in it. When from time to time he went abroad, and
especially in his visit to Venice in 1852, he added to his
collection by purchases made with great judgment and skill. In
buying pictures, your father evinced a taste often found in men of
refined mind and feeling--viz. a repugnance to works, however
excellent in themselves, where violent action was represented. He
preferred pictures where the subject partook more of the suggestive
than the positive, and where a considerable scope was left in which
the imagination of the spectator might disport itself. This feeling
was displayed in a great love of landscape art, and in the keenest
appreciation of the beauties of nature. It is an interesting fact
to record, and one which I often heard him mention, when his
friends were admiring his beautiful grounds at Watcombe, that in
the old posting days, when travelling on the cliff road between
Teignmouth and Torquay, he constantly stopped the carriage to get
out and admire the view which he had discovered from a field at
Watcombe, little thinking then that it would ultimately be the site
of his intended country home.

‘When your father and I went to Italy together in 1842, posting
from Westminster to Rome and back again, I had ample opportunities
of observing his love and enthusiasm for nature and art.

‘Overwhelmed as he was with work in England at the time, it was no
easy matter for him to leave the country for a couple of months;
and I remember that our starting at all was uncertain up to the
last moment; and that, an hour before quitting London, it was only
by a _coup de théâtre_, which he most adroitly performed, that he
escaped the serving of a subpœna, the bearer of which had
actually penetrated to the dining-room door in Duke Street.

‘We left London one evening in April 1842. During our journey we
constantly passed several consecutive days and nights in the
carriage; and I am sure there was not one of our waking hours in
which some incident of interest did not occur.

‘I remember your father agreeing with me, that our experiences
merely of post-boys and their various characteristics would be
worthy of recording in detail--from Newman’s two smart lads, who
took us the first stage out of London, on to the genuine
“postillon” (boots and all) we found at Calais; then to the wild
young brigands (in appearance) who, inspired by the prospect of
extra “buon mano,” whirled us along the road from Civita Vecchia
towards Rome, and winding up with the stolid German who rose slowly
in his stirrups, and distracted us by a melancholy performance on
the horn slung round him, and which no entreaty would induce him to
give up.

‘We posted from Calais, _viâ_ Paris, to Châlons-sur-Saône,
marvelling the whole way whereabouts “La Belle France” was to be
found; for a drearier and more utterly monotonous ride of something
like 800 miles it is impossible to conceive. From Châlons we went
down the river to Lyons, then onwards, visiting Nismes, and through
Arles to Toulon.

‘From Toulon we went through Cannes and Nice and along the lovely
Cornice road to Genoa. Your father was intensely delighted with
this portion of the journey. Those wonderfully picturesque towns,
with their roccoco churches looking like toys, and painted all over
upon the principle of colour generally developed in that species of
art, especially interested him. The streets were so narrow that it
was sometimes doubtful whether the carriage could be squeezed
through, and more than once it grazed the houses on either side as
it passed on.

‘The work for which your father had come to Italy commenced at
Genoa, and he was met there by a staff appointed by the Government
to accompany him during his stay.

‘While at Genoa he came to me one morning and said, that, in
consequence of some delay, he had a week in which to make complete
holiday, and gave me the choice of Florence or Rome. I need
scarcely say that I chose Rome, and for three days we were in the
Eternal City, seeing more in that time than those to whom we
related our proceedings could believe.

‘How well do I remember our entering Rome by the gate on the Civita
Vecchia road, and standing up in the carriage to get our first view
of St. Peter’s, and, having seen it, the blank look of
disappointment we turned on each other at the sight! But the
interior of the great church as far exceeded our expectations as
the exterior had fallen short of them.

‘We were back at Genoa to the minute your father had appointed; and
the work being completed there, we went on to Turin. Here we were
in time to be present at the Court balls and ceremonies consequent
upon the marriage of the present King of Italy.

‘From Turin we proceeded to Milan.

‘At Milan your father parted from his staff, and completed the work
he had undertaken as far as it was necessary to do so in Italy.
From Milan, therefore, our journey home was one of uninterrupted
enjoyment through those glorious Lombard towns to Venice, which
happily we reached in a gondola from Mestre, and not by a railway
viaduct; then through the Tyrol to Munich, and so down the Rhine to
Belgium, reaching home from Antwerp.

‘Thus was completed an expedition in which there was neither hitch
nor disagreeable adventure of any kind, and upon which I look back
with unmixed pleasure.

‘The next and last time that your father and I journeyed on the
Continent together was in April 1848, when he wished to see Paris
in Republican garb, and asked me to accompany him.

‘We were there for some days, and, armed with cards of admission,
on which our names were inscribed with the prefix of “Citoyen,”
heard and saw the various celebrities of the hour.

‘Affectionately yours,
J. C. HORSLEY.

‘Isambard Brunel, Esq.’

Within less than a year of Mr. Brunel’s return from his visit to Italy, a strange accident happened to him, which placed his life in great jeopardy.

On April 3, 1843, he was amusing some children at his house by the exhibition of conjuring tricks, when, in pretending to pass a half-sovereign from his ear to his mouth, the coin he had placed in his mouth slipped down his throat. After a few days he began to suffer from a troublesome cough, and on April 18 Sir Benjamin Brodie was consulted.

The nature of the accident and the course of treatment adopted are described in the following letter from Mr. Brunel’s brother-in-law, the late Dr. Seth Thompson, which was published in the ‘Times’ newspaper of May 16, 1843:--

I shall be much obliged by your giving insertion to the following
statement of the treatment pursued by Sir Benjamin Brodie in the
case of Mr. Brunel, it being the wish of Mr. Brunel and his friends
that the true facts should be known, as a just tribute to the skill
of this eminent surgeon, and as a guide to future practice. The
accident happened on April 3; Sir B. Brodie was consulted on the
18th, and his opinion was that the half-sovereign had passed into
the windpipe. The following day Mr. Brunel strengthened this
opinion by a simple experiment. He bent his head and shoulders over
a chair, and distinctly felt the coin drop towards the glottis;
whilst raising himself a violent fit of coughing came on, which
ceased after a few minutes. He repeated this a second time, with
the same results. A consultation was held on the 22nd, at which it
was decided that conclusive evidence existed of the half-sovereign
having passed into the windpipe, that it was probably lodged at the
bottom of the right bronchus, and that it was movable. It was
determined that every effort should be made for its removal, and
that for this purpose an apparatus should be constructed for
inverting the body of the patient, in order that the weight of the
coin might assist the natural effort to expel it by coughing. The
first experiment was made on the 25th. The body of the patient
being inverted, and the back gently struck with the hand between
the shoulders, violent cough came on, but of so convulsive and
alarming a nature that danger was apprehended, and the experiment
was discontinued. On this occasion the coin was again moved from
its situation, and slipped towards the glottis. On the 27th
tracheotomy was performed by Sir B. Brodie, assisted by Mr. Aston
Key, with the intention of extracting the coin by the forceps, if
possible, or, in the event of this failing, with the expectation
that the opening in the windpipe would facilitate a repetition of
the experiment of the 22nd. On this occasion, and subsequently on
May 2, the introduction of the forceps was attended with so much
irritation, that it could not be persevered in without danger to
life. On the 3rd another consultation was held, when Mr. Lawrence
and Mr. Stanley entirely confirmed the views of Sir B. Brodie and
Mr. Key, and it was agreed that the experiment of inversion should
be repeated as soon as Mr. Brunel had recovered sufficient
strength, the incision in the windpipe being kept open. On
Saturday, the 13th, Mr. Brunel was again placed on the apparatus,
the body inverted, and the back gently struck. After two or three
coughs, he felt the coin quit its place on the right side of the
chest, and in a few seconds it dropped from his mouth without
exciting in its passage through the glottis any distress or
inconvenience, the opening in the windpipe preventing any spasmodic
action of the glottis.

In this remarkable case the following circumstances appear to be
worthy of note--that a piece of gold remained in the air-tube for
six weeks, quite movable, and without exciting any inflammatory
action, the breathing entirely undisturbed, and the only symptoms
of its presence occasional uneasiness on the right side of the
chest and frequent fits of coughing; that an accurate diagnosis was
formed without being able to obtain any assistance from the
stethoscope, although the chest was repeatedly and carefully
examined; and also that, a fair trial having been given to the
forceps, the application of this instrument to the removal of a
body of this peculiar form from the bottom of the bronchus was
proved to be attended with great risk to life, while the cautious
and well-considered plan of treatment above detailed was attended
with complete success, and without risk.

During the time that Mr. Brunel was in danger the public excitement was intense. His high professional position, the extraordinary nature of the accident, and the greatness of the loss, were the result to prove fatal, made his condition and the chances of his recovery an engrossing topic of conversation; and, when the news was spread that ‘it is out,’ the message needed no explanation.

That the result was successful was due, not only to the skill of the surgeons engaged, and to the anxious care with which those who nursed him left nothing undone to ensure his safety, but also to the remarkable coolness which Mr. Brunel himself displayed throughout. From the first he took part in the consultations which were held on his case, and assisted materially in determining the course of treatment which should be pursued.

* * * * *

The ten years which followed were the most prosperous in Mr. Brunel’s life; he had attained to great eminence in his profession, and was still in the enjoyment of robust health. But the results of the gauge controversy and the fierce contests which followed it, and, above all, the failure of the Atmospheric System on the South Devon Railway, caused him grave anxiety and sorrow. Critics have erred greatly in representing him as a man who, in order to accomplish some vast design, thought but little of the distress which follows want of success in commercial enterprises. So far from its being true that Mr. Brunel was indifferent to the interests of his employers, his private journals show that throughout (to use his own words) ‘the incessant warfare in which he was engaged’ he was earnestly desiring peace and endeavouring to secure it, and that in times of difficulty, such as the trial of the Atmospheric System and the launch of the ‘Great Eastern,’ his chief thoughts were for those who would suffer through the failure of his plans.

* * * * *

In the midst of his professional occupations he was able occasionally, though rarely, to enjoy the society of his friends. After the session was over, in 1844 and 1845, he went to Italy on business, and in 1846 to Switzerland for a short holiday. In 1847 the South Devon Railway was occupying his attention, and he determined to take a house at Torquay. While there, the important character of his railway works in Devonshire and Cornwall led him to think of making a more permanent settlement in that part of the country.

After a good deal of hesitation between various places, he fixed upon a spot at Watcombe, about three miles from Torquay, on the Teignmouth turnpike road. He made his first purchase of land in the autumn of 1847; and from that time to within a year of his death the improvement of this property was his chief delight.

He had always a great love and appreciation of beautiful scenery, and in his choice of a place in which to plant and build he provided amply for his complete gratification.

The principal view, which, if the house had been built, would have been the view from the terrace, is one of the loveliest in that part of Devonshire. On one side is the sea, and on the other the range of Dartmoor, while in front is spread undulating country, bounded by the hills on the further side of Torbay, the bay itself looking like a lake, being shut in by the hills above Torquay.

When Mr. Brunel bought this property it consisted of fields divided by hedgerows; but, assisted by Mr. William Nesfield, he laid it out in plantations of choice trees. The occupation of arranging them gave him unfailing pleasure; and, although he could seldom spare more than a few days’ holiday at a time, there can be little doubt that the happiest hours of his life were spent in walking about in the gardens with his wife and children, and discussing the condition and prospects of his favourite trees.[193]

He could not, of course, take a prominent part in the affairs of the parish, but he was always ready to assist in any work that had been taken in hand. He will be long remembered there by his friends in every rank of life.

In purchasing this property in Devonshire, Mr. Brunel had looked forward to retiring gradually from active professional life, ‘to draw in and make room for others,’ and to spend a greater portion of his time in the country.

It may well be questioned whether he would have been happy in giving up work while yet in middle life; but the wisdom of his resolve was not to be put to the test.

From the beginning of the year 1852 the ‘Great Eastern’ steam-ship began to occupy his time and thoughts. As the works progressed he was more and more tied to London; and the large pecuniary investment he had made in the shares of the company caused him to hesitate before proceeding with the building of his house.

Thus the hopes he had formed for making his home in Devonshire faded gradually away, and were at length extinguished by the failure of his health.

* * * * *

Many things had happened in the earlier part of 1857 which gave him pleasure. In June he received, in company with Mr. Robert Stephenson, the honorary degree of Doctor in Civil Law from the University of Oxford.[194] In the summer he paid several visits to Devonshire, and at the beginning of September the floating of the first truss of the Saltash bridge was successfully accomplished.

The history of the launch of the ‘Great Eastern,’ which was commenced in November, has been already told. Throughout all the disappointments he then endured Mr. Brunel took comfort from the sympathy of valued friends, and from those higher sources of consolation on which it was his habit to rely. He paid for his exertions a heavy price, for they left him broken in health and already suffering from the disease of which in a little more than eighteen mouths afterwards he died.[195]

* * * * *

In May 1858 Mr. Brunel went to Vichy, and thence to Switzerland, returning home in the autumn by way of Holland. When at Lucerne he went up the Righi, and was so charmed with it that, instead of spending only a night there, he remained a week, working at the designs for the Eastern Bengal Railway.

It was on his return to England in September that the alarming nature of his illness was ascertained. After anxious consultation with Sir Benjamin Brodie and Dr. Bright, he was ordered to spend the winter in Egypt, in the hope that he might return in the March or April following in restored health.

He was very unwilling to be so long absent from England, especially as a new company had just been formed to finish the ‘Great Eastern,’ and the contracts for her completion were about to be let.

However, it was thought that very serious consequences might follow if he remained at home; and in the beginning of December he left for Alexandria, with his wife and younger son.

Having stayed there a day or two, they went on to Cairo, where they found Mr. Robert Stephenson. He and Mr. Brunel dined together on Christmas Day.

On December 30 the journey up the Nile commenced. On January 21 they arrived at Thebes, and spent some days there. Mr. Brunel was able to ride about on a donkey, and made some sketches of the celebrated ruins in the neighbourhood.[196]

They reached Assouan on February 2, and made preparations for ascending the cataracts. They went as far as Dakkeh, and got back to Assouan on February 19.

The following letter from Mr. Brunel to his sister, Lady Hawes, describes some of the scenes through which he passed:--

Philæ, February 12, 1859.

I now write to you from a charming place; but Assouan, which I
left to come here, is also beautiful, and I will speak of that
first. It is strange that so little is said in the guide books of
the picturesque beauty of these places. Approaching Assouan, you
glide through a reef of rocks, large boulders of granite polished
by the action of the water charged with sand. You arrive at a
charming bay or lake of perfectly still water and studded with
these singular jet-black or red rock islands. In the distance you
see a continuation of the river, with distant islands shut in by
mountains, of beautiful colours, some a lilac sandstone, some the
bright red yellow of the sands of the desert. Above the
promontories the water excursions are delicious. You enter at once
among the islands of the Cataracts, fantastic forms of granite
heaps of boulders split and worn into singular shapes.

After spending a week at Assouan, with a trip by land to Philæ, I
was so charmed with the appearance of the Cataracts as seen from
the shore, and with the deliciously quiet repose of Philæ, that I
determined to get a boat, and sleep a few nights there. We
succeeded in hiring a country boat laden with dates, and emptied
her, and fitted up her three cabins.[197] We put our cook and
dragoman and provisions, &c., on board, and some men, and went up
the Cataract. It was a most amusing affair, and most beautiful and
curious scenery all the way. It is a long rapid of three miles, and
perhaps one mile wide, full of rocky islands and isolated rocks. A
bird’s-eye view hardly shows a free passage, and some of the more
rapid falls are between rocks not forty feet wide--in appearance
not twenty. Although they do not drag the boats up perpendicular
falls of three or four feet, as the travellers’ books tell you,
they really do drag the boats up rushes of water which, until I had
seen it, and had then calculated the power required, I should
imprudently have said could not be effected. We were dragged up at
one place a gush of water, what might fairly be called a fall of
about three feet, the water rushing past very formidably, and
between rocks seemingly not more than wide enough to let our boat
pass, and this only by some thirty-five men at three or four ropes,
the men standing in the water and on the rocks in all directions,
shouting, plunging into the water, swimming across the top or
bottom of the fall, just as they wanted, then getting under the
boat to push it off rocks, all with an immense expenditure of noise
and apparent confusion and want of plan, yet on the whole properly
and successfully. We were probably twenty or thirty minutes getting
up this one, sometimes bumping hard on one rock, sometimes on
another, and jammed hard first on one side and then on the other,
the boat all the time on the fall with ropes all strained,
sometimes going up a foot or two, sometimes losing it, till at last
we crept to the top, and sailed quietly on in a perfectly smooth
lake. These efforts up the different falls had been going on for
nearly eight hours, and the relief from noise was delicious. We
selected a quiet spot under the temples of Philæ.... Our
poultry-yard is on the sandbank, where fowls, pigeons, and turkeys
are walking about loose, and, like all animals in this country,
perfectly tame. Yes, they walk up and catch a pigeon to be killed
when you like. In the midst of these and of the small birds which
always walk and fly about us, have been walking for hours this
morning three or four large eagles, who, with the politeness
peculiar to animals here, pay no attention to our fowls, nor do
they to the eagles. But here I am entering on the anomalies and
contradictions of Egypt, which would fill volumes.

After leaving Egypt, Mr. Brunel went to Naples and Rome, where he spent Easter, and he returned to England in the middle of May.

When abroad, Mr. Brunel made sight-seeing a pleasure rather than a business; thus in Egypt he preferred to visit frequently the same places, and rather to enjoy that which he knew gave him pleasure, than to hurry about with the object of seeing all that was to be seen. At Philæ he stopped more than a week, and at Thebes he spent more time in a small outlying temple near Karnac than in the great ruin itself. So also at Rome he went frequently to the Colosseum, and he spent many hours in the interior of St. Peter’s.

Shortly after his return to England he went to Plymouth, and over the Saltash bridge and other parts of the Cornwall Railway, which had been opened during his absence abroad.

Although it had by this time become certain that the disease under which he laboured had assumed a fatal character, he continued to give unremitting attention to his various professional duties; and in order to be nearer the ‘Great Eastern,’ he took a house at Sydenham, and removed there with his family in the beginning of August.

Almost every day he went to the great ship and superintended the preparations for getting her to sea. She was advertised to sail on September 6, and Mr. Brunel had intended going round in her to Weymouth.

He was on board early on the morning of the 5th, and his memorandum book has, under that date, an entry of some unfinished work which had to be looked after. Towards midday he felt symptoms of failing power, and went home to his house in Duke Street, when it became evident that he had been attacked with paralysis.

* * * * *

At one time it seemed possible that he might recover; but on the tenth day after his seizure, Thursday, September 15, all hope was taken away. In the afternoon he spoke to those who watched around him, calling them to him by their names; as evening closed in he gradually sank, and died at half-past ten, quietly and without pain.

* * * * *

The funeral was on September 20, at the Kensal Green Cemetery.

Along the road leading to the chapel many hundreds of his private and professional friends, his neighbours among the tradespeople of Westminster, the Council of the Institution of Civil Engineers, and the servants of the Great Western Railway Company, had assembled, and, with his family, followed his body to its place of burial, in the grave of his father and mother.[198]

It would be improper here to attempt to enter into a general criticism of Mr. Brunel’s works, or to determine the position which he is entitled to occupy among civil engineers. That task has yet to be accomplished, and must be undertaken by those who can claim to be impartial judges. It has been the object of this book to provide, as far as possible, the materials on which a just judgment of his career can be based.

But it may be permitted, in conclusion, to place on record the following testimony to the high position held by Mr. Brunel in the esteem of his contemporaries.

* * * * *

On November 8, 1859, at the first meeting of the Institution of Civil Engineers after the death of Mr. Brunel and of Mr. Robert Stephenson, Mr. Joseph Locke, M.P., the President, rose and said--

‘I cannot permit the occasion of opening a new session to pass without alluding to the irreparable loss which the Institution has sustained by the death, during the recess, of its two most honoured and distinguished members.

‘In the midst of difficulties of no ordinary kind, with an ardour rarely equalled, and an application both of body and mind almost beyond the limit of physical endurance, in the full pursuit of a great and cherished idea, Brunel was suddenly struck down, before he had accomplished the task which his daring genius had set before him.

‘Following in the footsteps of his distinguished parent, Sir Isambard Brunel, his early career, even from its commencement, was remarkable for originality in the conception of the works confided to him. As his experience increased, his confidence in his own powers augmented; and the Great Western Railway, with its broad-gauge line, colossal engines, large carriages, and bold designs of every description, was carried onward, and ultimately embraced a wide district of the country.

‘The same feeling induced, in steam navigation, the successive construction of the “Great Western” steamer, the largest vessel of the time, until superseded by the “Great Britain,” which was in its turn eclipsed by the “Great Eastern,” the most gigantic experiment of the age.

‘The Great Ship was Brunel’s peculiar child; he applied himself to it in a manner which could not fail to command respect; and, if he did not live to see its final and successful completion, he saw enough, in his later hours, to sustain him in the belief that his idea would ultimately become a triumphant reality.

‘The shock which the loss of Brunel created was yet felt, when we were startled by an announcement that another of our esteemed members had been summoned from us.[199]

* * * * *

‘It is not my intention at this time to give even an outline of the works achieved by our two departed friends. Their lives and labours, however, are before us; and it will be our own fault if we fail to draw from them useful lessons for our own guidance. Man is not perfect, and it is not to be expected that he should be always successful; and, as in the midst of success we sometimes learn great truths before unknown to us, so also we often discover in failure the causes which frustrate our best directed efforts. Our two friends may probably form no exception to the general rule; but, judging by the position they had each secured, and by the universal respect and sympathy which the public has manifested for their loss, and remembering the brilliant ingenuity of argument, as well as the more homely appeals to their own long experience, often heard in this hall, we are well assured that they have not laboured in vain.

‘We, at least, who are benefited by their successes, who feel that our Institution has reason to be proud of its association with such names as Brunel and Stephenson, have a duty to perform; and that duty is, to honour their memory and emulate their example.’