REMINISCENCES OF A VETERAN CONDUCTOR. 
 
 FORTY YEARS ON 
 THE RAIL. 
 
 BY 
 
 CHAKLES B. GEOEGE 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 1887. 
 
TF 
 fir 
 
 fff-7 
 
 eXCHANQI 
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 BY CHARLES B. GEORGE, 
 
 1887. 
 
TO 
 
 THE CONDUCTORS OP THE UNITED STATES, 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER FRIENDS IN THE RAILROAD SERVICE, 
 
 THIS BOOK IS 
 
 RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 M97081 
 
PREFACE 
 
 In preparing these pages for publication, the 
 author has not attempted to give a complete or 
 consecutive history of his life as conductor on 
 the railroad during the past forty years, for that 
 would be beyond the scope of a simple work of 
 this kind. On a thread of autobiography he has 
 arranged a series of sketches, drawn from his own 
 experiences and from those of his associates in the 
 service, dealing with all subjects from the stand- 
 point of a railroad man. 
 
 Some material for this work has been drawn 
 from the literature of the day, especially as it 
 appears in magazines and newspapers, but a series 
 of memoranda, kept at irregular intervals during 
 the past four decades, has been chiefly drawn upon, 
 as have also letters from friends, and interviews 
 with those who shared the author's experiences in 
 early days. Should omissions or errors be noticed 
 in the data of this volume, let it be remembered 
 that the writer has necessarily largely depended 
 upon his memory in its compilation. 
 
 11 
 
12 FORTY YEAKS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 Although this book is written by a railroad man 
 and is dedicated to railroad men, it is hoped and 
 believed that the general public will find herein a 
 fund of information and entertainment that will 
 commend it to all classes of readers. It is with this 
 in view that the author gives these pages to the 
 
 world 
 
 C. B. GEORGE. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 THE START IN LIFE, - - 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 EARLY RAILROADING, . 27 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 A MILE A MINUTE, 47 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 REMINISCENCES OF OTHER DAYS, - 55 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 WESTWARD, 72 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 IN WAR TIMES, 99 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 FIGHTING THE ELEMENTS, - 129 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 NOTED PASSENGERS, 144 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 RAILROAD MEN, - 164 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 "OLD RELIABLE," - 195 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 HUMAN NATURE ON THE RAIL, 211 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 RAILROADING OF TO-DAY, 242 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 MY BOYHOOD HOME, - 25 
 
 THE AUTHOR FORTY YEARS AGO, 45 
 
 THE MEDFORD TRAIN, 65 
 
 THE SNOW-PLOW ADVENTURE, 85 
 
 BOUND FOR BENNINGTON, - 105 
 
 OLD COOK STREET DEPOT, CHICAGO, ----- 125 
 
 SNOWED IN, - - 145 
 
 THE FARMER'S ARGUMENT, 165 
 
 HOXIE AND THE TRAMP, - 185 
 
 THE VESTIBULE TRAIN, - 205 
 
FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL, 
 
 CHAPTER ,Lv v i s ;.;V :;: : 
 
 THE START IN LIFE. 
 
 Early in 1847 my parents died and I was left alone 
 in the world. The small farm in Massachusetts where 
 I was born and where I passed my early life, fur- 
 nished us a humble living, and that only after strict 
 economy and hard work. New England's rocky soil 
 was a poor field for getting wealth, and my father's 
 life was that of other farmers of those days. 
 
 Well do I remember our cottage home, with its 
 slanting roof, low ceilings and small windows. I can 
 see it to-day as plainly as I did when I was a lad 
 living within its walls. The big fire-place was the 
 favorite spot where we all gathered during' the long 
 winter evenings. When the snow was piled high 
 outside and the wind whistled about the corners 
 of the house, we sat before the blazing logs on the 
 hearth, told stories, ate apples, popped corn and drank 
 cider. My good mother always sat near with her 
 knitting-needles clicking busily. Down in front of 
 2 17 
 
18 FORTY YEARS ON THE EAIL. 
 
 the house I can still see the old fashioned well-sweep 
 and the moss-covered, iron-bound bucket. Away in 
 the distance ran the Merrimac, and all about, the 
 woods and Chills: of: New England lent the scene a 
 charm I little appreciated then, but which often 
 liave: e&osiej to: tie :iix thought since I bade them fare- 
 well so many years ago. 
 
 Those were happy days. It is true that our life 
 was simple^ but our tastes were in harmony with our 
 lot, for we lived as our friends and neighbors did, 
 and into the midst of our peaceful community had not 
 come the restlessness, the pursuit of worldly pleasures, 
 the glitter and show of these later days. Where 
 no one possessed great wealth and was not sur- 
 rounded by luxury, the rest of the community was 
 not disturbed by any striking contrasts or disagreea- 
 ble distinctions. We had our simple pleasures and 
 recreations that were varied with the seasons. The 
 Fourth of July was a great day to us, of course, 
 *nd we had, in the autumn and winter, husking-bees, 
 dancing parties, and sleigh rides to our heart's con- 
 tent. I never thought much of the great future in 
 those days ; my mind was busy with its surroundings. 
 
 My mother's gentle ways and quiet industry 
 made our humble home a place of rest for all, and, 
 until my parents died, life went on quietly for me 
 amid the dull routine of farm duties. My educational 
 
THE STAET IN LIFE. 19 
 
 advantages were such as the country schools gave me. 
 Only three months of the year were allowed me 
 for going to school ; the duties of helping to support 
 the family having fallen to my lot very early in life. 
 
 I had always been a diligent boy. Indeed, there 
 was little chance to be otherwise. In those days 
 everybody worked, and industry was taught us from 
 morning till night both by example and precept. 
 When not needed at home I helped the neighboring 
 farmers, receiving as compensation only nine pence a 
 day, or twelve and a half cents in our present money. 
 At odd times I did work on shoes, " closing " them, 
 as we used to call the process of sewing the parts 
 together with waxed ends. Haverhill was largely 
 occupied in the same industry. It was before the 
 days of complicated machinery for manufacturing 
 purposes, and nearly every cottage in our village 
 contained one or more persons engaged in doing 
 some branch of shoe-making. 
 
 When at seventeen years of age I was thrown 
 upon my own resources, I found myself poorly pre- 
 pared to face the great world. By being very careful 
 of my earnings, I had saved eight dollars, and with 
 this I was to begin a new career. After my parents 
 were laid to rest, and all had been done for them 
 that loving hands could do, I began to consider my 
 future. A good, kind-hearted woman, Mrs. Tibbitts, 
 
20 FOKTY YEAKS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 took me to her home to stay a couple of weeks, 
 until I could settle upon some definite plan. Her 
 motherly ways and her Christian counsel cheered me 
 in those lonely hours, and I look back to her to-day 
 with gratitude for her kindness to me in my day of 
 need. Many friends came to give me advice. 
 
 "Keep the old farm, Charley," said one old 
 gentleman. "Your father made a living there, and 
 why not you?" 
 
 But the farm had only been rented by my 
 father, and now that the old home was empty, I had 
 not the heart to stay there. Besides, farming was not 
 to my taste, now that I was free to make my choice. 
 
 "How would you like clerking in our store?" 
 another suggested. 
 
 The salary of a clerk in a country store was not 
 a temptation, even to me with my modest ideas. 
 
 One day I met Mr. Taggart, a lawyer of the town, 
 and he asked me why I did not study law. "If you 
 \vill come to my office," he said to me kindly, "I 
 will do my best to help you in your studies and 
 make a lawyer of you as soon as possible." The 
 question of board and clothes then presented itself, 
 and I gave up all idea of going into the law office. 
 
 The various counsels of friends and the failure of 
 each to satisfy my desires, did not discourage me. 
 To the young all things are possible, and with a 
 
THE START IN LIFE. 2l 
 
 rugged constitution backed by a willing heart, I 
 knew I could make life worth living. 
 
 Haverhill, my native town, is thirty miles from 
 Boston, and to our quiet home enough news of the city 
 had reached us to make me feel that I had a better 
 chance to make my mark there than in the country, 
 where, to tell the truth, I had already begun to feel 
 tired of my humdrum life. 
 
 "I'll go to Boston," I said to myself one day, after 
 studying over every plan I could think of, or the 
 neighbors could suggest. " Surely I'll find some- 
 thing to do there ; at any rate, I'll chance it. I'll 
 make the world pay me the living it owes me." 
 
 So, with my hard-earned capital, arid with the 
 best wishes of friends, I started for the metropolis. 
 
 Kind Mrs. Tibbitts had mended my clothes and 
 packed my little trunk, putting in odds and ends of 
 things that only a mother knows her boy will want, 
 and which I found most acceptable in the trying days 
 that followed. 
 
 A tall, lanky youth I was; dressed in badly fitting 
 clothes which I had outgrown, the trousers being so 
 short that they showed off to advantage my coarse 
 cow-hide boots. But, I was busy thinking of what 
 the great future was to bring, and I cared not a whit 
 for all that. 
 
 Well do I remember the train as it came puffing 
 
22 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 along toward Haverhill station, with cinders and 
 smoke filling the fresh country air, and the little 
 sa wed-off cars jolting along the uneven track. It was 
 a great sight to me, and as I stepped aboard my heart 
 beat wildly at the new experience. I timidly got into 
 the car, and sat in the end seat. I knew that to pay 
 full fare would make a great hole in my money, so I 
 drew myself into as small a compass as possible, 
 hoping to look very young to the vigilant official eye. 
 Ansel Tucker was the conductor, and when he came 
 up to me I timidly asked him if he would take me for 
 half fare. 
 
 " Where are you going, my lad? " he said kindly. 
 
 " To Boston, sir." 
 
 " Well, you're a pretty good chunk of a boy to be 
 riding for half, but you look as if you were made of 
 the right stuff, and I guess I will have to let you go." 
 
 My courage rose at this first success and with a 
 lighter heart I continued my journey, my mind being 
 kept busy with the novelty of the ride, and with 
 planning for my future." 
 
 When I landed in Boston, I found a place where I 
 could lodge at ten cents a night, and I took my meals 
 wherever I could get food cheapest. Many an hour I 
 went hungry, and then, with a piece of pie or a couple 
 of doughnuts, which I could buy for five cents, I 
 made a scanty meal. I had a lonely time of it, too, 
 
THE START IN LltfE. 2 
 
 for I did not see a familiar face from one day's end to 
 the other, and I greatly missed the friendly and 
 encouraging words I had been accustomed to in old 
 Haverhill. 
 
 Day after day I walked the streets, asking for 
 work. My idea was to learn a good trade, but those 
 were dull times and labor was not in demand. Often 
 I grew discouraged, but a good night's sleep or some- 
 thing to eat always revived my spirits. Then, to the 
 country boy who had never gone very far beyond his 
 native village, the busy city was filled with wonders 
 that made me forget my trials. Many a time, after 
 refusals from those to whom I applied for work, when 
 I was tired and heartsick, I sat down in the old 
 Boston Common, and while looking at the sights 
 there 1 forgot my misery till I got rested, ready to 
 start on a new search. 
 
 My money was gradually melting away and my 
 enthusiasm was on the wane, when one day I ran 
 across Charles Minot, who had known me when he 
 was practicing law in Haverhill. At the time I speak 
 of, he was superintendent of the Boston and Maine 
 railroad, and was known as one of the most capable 
 and progressive men in the State. 
 
 " Hello, Charley," was his greeting. " When did 
 you leave Haverhill? What are you here for? " 
 
 "Looking for something to do," I answered 
 gloomily. 
 
24 FOETY YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 " What have you tried to get ? " 
 
 "To learn almost any trade, and I'm tired asking 
 for a place." 
 
 " Got any money? " 
 
 " Not very much." 
 
 " Cheer up, my boy, there's plenty of chance for 
 you here," he said cheerily, slipping a five dollar bill 
 into my hand. 
 
 "So you have tried about everything, have you?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "How would you like to be a railroad man?" he 
 said, after a slight pause. 
 
 "Like it? " I echoed, eagerly jumping at the idea. 
 "Like it? Just give me a chance, sir." 
 
 As a result of our meeting, after a few days I 
 became baggage-master of the train to Medford, about 
 five miles out of Boston. "We had a small cabless 
 engine, weighing about five tons, and the train was 
 made up of a single car, which was baggage and 
 passenger car combined.* This little train was in 
 charge of John Sanborn, conductor, and Joe Seavey, 
 engineer. To start with, I worked at seventeen 
 dollars a month, which seemed almost a princely sum 
 to the poor boy, who but a few days before had been 
 walking about the streets homeless and almost penni- 
 less. In four or five months, my work proving satis- 
 factory to all, my salary was raised, and when I then 
 
THE STAR* Itf LltfE. 
 
 MY BOYHOOD HOME. Page 17 
 
 drew thirty-five dollars for a 
 month's pay, I felt richer 
 than I ever did afterward. 
 
 Forty years have passed 
 since my accidental meeting 
 with Charles Minot on the 
 streets of Boston, when a 
 few words changed the whole 
 bent of my thought, and the 
 aimless wanderer began a 
 life work. It is by chance 
 
 that many a career is thus begun. Indeed, rarely 
 does a life follow out a carefully arranged plan, 
 
26 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 but step by step fortune leads us on, and we must 
 follow her bidding. Little did I think when I 
 boarded the train in old Haverhill, that that short trip 
 was the beginning of the vast aggregate of travel 
 which I have made in forty years, an aggregate 
 amounting to over two million, four hundred thousand 
 miles, or nearly one hundred times around the globe. 
 
CHAPTEK II. 
 
 EARLY RAILROADING. 
 
 At the request of Ansel Tucker, the conductor with 
 whom I had taken my first ride, I left the Medford 
 train to go with him on the Portland run. Besides 
 Mr, Tucker, the conductors on the road were Elbridge 
 Wood, John Sanborn, Joe Smith, J. B. Wadleigh, 
 Carter Thompson, Dennis Smart and Charles Hall. 
 The Boston and Maine road was thought a wonderful 
 through line forty years ago, though it was only one 
 hundred and eleven miles long. 
 
 My work on the Portland train was heavy and 
 fatiguing. In those days the baggage-master had to 
 take a turn at the brakes as often as the brakeman, 
 and had to keep his own car clean, inside and out, as 
 car cleaners were then unknown. The wheels had to 
 be wiped with waste, which was no small task, 
 splashed as they were with whale oil, the only kind 
 then in use for such purposes. Part of the baggage- 
 man's equipment was a long-nosed oil-can, from 
 which we had to oil the wheels at nearly every 
 station. 
 
 27 
 
28 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL* 
 
 In those days railroading had only fairly started 
 on its career. Our trains would be laughed at by the 
 present generation, so accustomed to more scientific 
 methods. I cannot myself go back to Stevenson and 
 the "Eocket," but the improvements in my time have 
 been no less marvelous than was the building of that 
 pioneer locomotive. The "Eocket" ran her first trip 
 from Manchester to Liverpool when I was only seven 
 months old. It weighed four tons and a quarter and, 
 like most inventions that have revolutionized the 
 world, it excited more ridicule than praise. The wise 
 men of that day scoffed at the idea of an engine 
 drawing cars. " The drive-wheels will slip," was 
 their crushing argument. Yet even the " Eocket," 
 small as she was, ran at the rate of over thirty miles 
 an hour. 
 
 The first iron road in the United States was the 
 Granite railroad at Quincy, Massachusetts, built to 
 draw stone for Bunker Hill Monument. It was run by 
 horse power. Not until 1829 was the first locomotive 
 brought over from England. About that time Peter 
 Cooper constructed the " Tom Thumb," the first 
 locomotive ever made in America, but it was very 
 small and was only made to show what could be done. 
 
 Several different railroads contend for the honor of 
 having first used steam locomotives in this country, 
 for regular service; but the preponderance of evidence 
 
EARLY RAILROADING. 29 
 
 is in favor of the road running from Charleston to 
 Hamburg, South Carolina. That was the first built 
 in America, with a view to using steam instead of 
 animal power. It was also the first to carry the 
 United States mail. When this road was finished on 
 October 2, 1833, it was the longest railroad in the 
 worjd. 
 
 The first locomotive ever made in this country for 
 actual service was the " Best Friend," built for the 
 Charleston and Hamburg road under the personal 
 direction of E. L. Miller at the West Point Foundry 
 and was tested about 1830. Mr. Miller was an en- 
 thusiastic advocate of steam power, but met with 
 strong opposition from all sides. Undaunted by ob- 
 stacles, he pushed on his purpose and proposed to 
 construct an engine on his own responsibility, equal to 
 the best then in use in England. He went to work on 
 those terms and succeeded so well that he beat down 
 all opposition by sheer force of his genius. The 
 "Best Friend" had a vertical boiler without fire-tubes 
 and looked more like a huge beer bottle than anything 
 else. The furnace at the bottom of the boiler was 
 surrounded by water and projecting parts ran out 
 from its sides and top to make the heating surface 
 greater. Tradition has it that the first boiler explosion 
 was that of the boiler of this famous engine. A negro 
 was working as fireman and, being annoyed by the 
 
30 FOBTY YEAKS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 hissing of the escaping steam, ventured on the experi- 
 ment of shutting off the noise by sitting on the 
 safety valve. There was too little of the fireman left 
 to tell how he liked the experiment. 
 
 Just before my day, cars had been of the stage- 
 coach style on trucks, the latter being coupled with 
 chains, or chain-links, leaving two or three feet slack, 
 so that when the locomotive started it took up the 
 chains by jerks that sent passengers headlong, or 
 caused many bruises. The original coaches had room 
 for from four to six passengers inside and room for 
 two others outside on seats at each end. This plan 
 was soon varied by building one car having the 
 capacity equivalent to several coach bodies, and di- 
 vided into compartments with two transverse seats in 
 each, the conductor collecting fares by climbing along 
 a foot-board outside. Into these boxes it was hard to 
 crowd more than twenty passengers. I can remember 
 an excursion on the Fourth of July, about 1847, when 
 many of these cars were used. Improvements were 
 made from time to time, but, compared with modern 
 cars, those of my earliest railroading were nothing to 
 boast of. They were lighted with whale oil lamps, 
 from which the tops of the cars were made smoky and 
 the sides were spattered with grease. The seats were 
 stiff and uncomfortable, and were covered with horse- 
 hair. Small sheet -iron stoves placed in the middle 
 
EARLY RAILROADING. 31 
 
 of the cars were used for heating on most roads, though 
 many cars were without them. To these discomforts 
 were added the showers of cinders and the dense smoke 
 from the engine, for early engines were without spark 
 arresters and the flame often streamed back as far as 
 the rear car. Pitch pine was largely used for fuel and 
 the amount of smoke, sparks and cinders may be 
 imagined. The only way to get a breath of fresh air 
 was by opening the windows, no attempt at ventilation 
 being made. It was a long time before coal was used 
 for fuel, engines being built only for wood. This, 
 necessitated frequent stoppages to " wood up," when 
 all hands turned in till the work was done. 
 
 Freight cars in the early days were called "burthen 
 cars" and trains were known as "brigades." Freight 
 cars were mere boxes, a little longer than wide, with a 
 wheel at each corner. They had doors on each side, and 
 we trainmen had to walk around the sides on a foot- 
 board, holding on by an iron rod running the whole 
 length of the car. Freight cars were so small that we 
 reported two as one, reporting a train of forty cars, 
 for instance, as twenty. I remember a freight col- 
 lision at Sommersworth, in 1849, when the cars were so 
 small and light that many of them were thrown over a 
 fence and scattered all over the neighboring farms. 
 
 The brakes of all cars were on top, and the brake- 
 man sat in that elevated position in a little cab, using 
 
32 FORTY YEARS OK THE RAIL. 
 
 a foot-lever such as is now used on omnibuses and 
 heavy wagons. At first the brakes only worked at one 
 end of the car, and when a man named Stevens invented 
 a double brake, that worked on both trucks from the 
 one wheel, it was thought one of the greatest inven- 
 tions of the age. 
 
 Until 1850, the three-chain links were used in 
 coupling cars. The sills, and platforms were not on 
 the same level, so that the line of resistance was not 
 the line of greatest strength. The platforms often 
 went crushing together and in case of collisions tel- 
 escoping was of most frequent occurrence. When 
 Miller made his inventions, these accidents became 
 things of the past. It was before the days of teleg- 
 raphy and in case of a break-down or wreck, the 
 only way help could be brought, or other trains 
 warned, was by hand-car or by messenger. 
 
 In the old cars the bell-cord ran over the top 
 and was wound on a reel, and we had to climb up 
 to the top of the cars, no matter how fast the train 
 was running, to use the cord or adjust it in case of 
 mishap. An old engineer of the Erie road thus tells 
 how the bell-cord came to be invented: 
 
 "Once in a while the conductor found it desirable 
 to eject some would-be dead-head passenger while be- 
 tween stations, but as there was no means to let the 
 engineer know except by sending word by a brakeman, 
 
EARLY RAILROADING. 33 
 
 and as he usually had to cliinb over a dozen freight 
 cars before he could attract the engineer's attention, it 
 frequently happened that the train reached the passen- 
 ger's destination before it could be stopped. ' Pappy' 
 Ayres, the pioneer Erie conductor, got tired of this 
 and one day he tied a stick of wood to the end of 
 a long rope, and hung the stick in the engineer's cab, 
 and carried the rope over the cars to the rear of the 
 train. His idea was to pull the rope*and agitate the 
 stick of wood when he wanted the engineer to stop the 
 train. He had to lick the engineer before the latter 
 would consent to recognize such an innovation, but 
 it worked to a charm and led to the introduction of 
 the now universal bell and rope system of signaling 
 cars." 
 
 Some of the old strap-rails were in use on the Bos- 
 ton and Maine when I went on that road. These were 
 wooden rails on which strap iron was spiked. The 
 iron often curled up, owing to the weight on the cen- 
 tral part and to heat or frost. When the ends of the 
 rails were struck by the wheels, they would be forced 
 up through the bottom of the car. Passengers were 
 often hurt in this way, these "snake heads," as they 
 were called, coming up with great force. "We often 
 had to stop and pound down the iron, or hold it down 
 till the train had passed over. At first iron rails were 
 but twelve feet long and weighed from thirty to forty 
 
84 FORTY YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 pounds a yard. A man on our road could lift two of 
 them at once. Gradually they were made larger and 
 heavier and finally steel rails were introduced. The 
 most approved kind now are thirty feet long and weigh 
 from seventy to ninety pounds. 
 
 Railroad stations at first were mere sheds, open 
 on two or more sides to wind and rain. Frequently 
 a pine box in open air by the side of the track 
 served as the ticket case, and was the only landmark 
 for a station. The little sheltering places built for the 
 engines were mere play-houses compared with the 
 round-houses of to-day. At first cars and freight 
 were protected by sheds, until experience showed that 
 it was a matter of economy to take good care of cars, 
 and a matter of necessity to provide good storage 
 facilities for freight. 
 
 Side-tracks were built to connect with the main 
 track at one end only. When we took a car out we 
 had to push it by hand and shove it on a side-track by 
 a running switch, switch-engines being unthought of. 
 In making up trains, shifting the cars had to be done 
 by hand or by horses. 
 
 The old stage-travel custom of "booking" passen- 
 gers was first adopted by railroads, but passed out of 
 existence long before my time. Then no tickets were 
 used, the receipts of the booking-clerk serving as 
 evidence of the payment of fares. A little later the 
 
EARLY RAILROADING. 35 
 
 conductor made liis rounds carrying a large tin box 
 into which the passengers dropped their fares in cash. 
 Even when tickets began to creep into use, they were 
 at first sold only to through passengers, while the 
 " locals " had to pay cash. The tin box was often dis- 
 pensed with, especially on western roads. One old 
 conductor who ran a train in Ohio in those early days, 
 tells how he took all the cash and kept it until Satur- 
 day night, then paid off himself and the boys on his 
 run, returning the surplus earnings to the company at 
 the end of the week. Conductors were great men in 
 those times. 
 
 The first railroad tickets were simply thick white 
 cards, bearing the name of the company and of the 
 two stations the ticket could be used between, the 
 agent at the selling point writing his name at the bot- 
 tom for identification and to prevent counterfeiting. 
 There were no complicated ticket cases, with tickets 
 for hundreds upon hundreds of cities, towns and 
 villages; no coupons, no station-stamps. Local tickets 
 came into use late in the forties, but they were good 
 only on the road by which they were issued, and a 
 passenger traveling beyond the limits of any road 
 must step off the train at the first station of each road 
 on his route and buy a new ticket. For instance, 
 a passenger could not bay a ticket from New York to 
 Chicago. He had to leave the car at Buffalo, which 
 
SB FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 was the end of the first railway line on his route, and 
 purchase another ticket over the connecting road, 
 which ran as far as Cleveland, where the traveler again 
 went to the ticket window to pay his fare to Toledo. 
 At Toledo he bought his last ticket, which entitled 
 him to passage to his destination. In those days 
 there were no railroad pools or combinations. The 
 cars of one line did not run over the tracks of another, 
 and such a thing as monthly balances between railroad 
 companies was unknown. Coupon tickets were intro- 
 duced about the middle of the century. Thousand- 
 mile tickets, half -rate tickets to clergymen, theatrical 
 and other special tickets have all come into use since 
 I began railroading. The first printed tickets were 
 invented about the year 1836, by John Edmondson, 
 who was employed at a small station near Carlisle, 
 England. The first tickets consecutively numbered 
 were printed at Buffalo by George Bailey, who was 
 sent over by Edmondson with one of his machines in 
 1855. Previous to this, tickets were good for only a 
 single passage. 
 
 The distinguishing characteristic of the old-time 
 conductor was his fine silk hat. Slouch and stiff hats 
 were good enough for the ordinary citizen, but it was 
 before the days of uniforms, and conductors followed 
 their own taste in dress, usually selecting the best to 
 be had. A leather strap, on which in silver letters 
 
EARLY RAILROADING. 37 
 
 was the word " Conductor," was buckled about the 
 hat and taken off at the end of each run. I can 
 remember when a mere lad, I thought I never saw a 
 more awe-inspiring sight than Levi Wright, of the 
 Boston and Lowell road, with his tall hat and impres- 
 sive dignity as he waved his hand to the engineer and 
 shouted " All aboard " in a tone worthy of a general. 
 The first uniforms used by railway employees were on 
 the Hudson River road, if I remember correctly. The 
 Pennsylvania road next adopted uniforms, and only 
 within the last ten or twelve years have they come 
 into general use. 
 
 How our railroading in the forties impressed the 
 people of other countries, may be judged from the 
 American Notes of Charles Dickens, who visited this 
 country in 1842, or five years before I went into the 
 service. Mr. Dickens thus wrote : " There are no 
 first and second-class cars as with us, but there 
 is a gentlemen's car and a ladies' car, the main dis- 
 tinction between which is that in the first everybody 
 smokes ; and in the second, nobody does. As a black 
 man never travels with a white one there is also a 
 negro car, which is a great lumbering, clumsy chest, 
 such as Gulliver put to sea in, from the Kingdom of 
 Brobdignag. There is a great deal of jolting, a great 
 deal of noise, a great deal of wall, not much window, 
 a locomotive engine, a shriek, and a bell. The cars 
 
38 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 are like shabby omnibuses, but larger, holding thirty, 
 forty, fifty people. The seats, instead of stretching 
 from end to end, are placed crosswise. Each seat 
 holds two person. There is a long row of them on 
 each side of the caravan, a narrow passage up the 
 middle, and a door at both ends. In the center of the 
 carriage there is usually a stove, fed with charcoal or 
 Anthracite coal, which is for the most part red hot. 
 It is insufferably close, and you see the hot air flut- 
 tering between yourself and any other object you may 
 happen to look at, like the ghost of smoke. In the 
 ladies' car there are a great many gentlemen who 
 have ladies with them; there are also a great many 
 ladies who have nobody with them, for any lady may 
 travel alone from one end of the United States to the 
 other, and be certain of the most courteous and con- 
 siderate treatment everywhere. The conductor, or 
 check-taker, or guard, or whatever he may be, wears 
 no uniform. He walks up and down the car, and in 
 and out of it, as his fancy dictates ; leans against the 
 door with his hands in his pockets and stares at you 
 if you chance to be a stranger, or enters into conver- 
 sation with the passengers about him. * * * 
 On, on tears the mad dragon of an engine with its 
 train of cars, scattering in all directions a shower of 
 burning sparks from its wood fire, screeching, hiss- 
 ing, yelling, panting, until at last the thirsty monster 
 
EAKLY RAILROADING. 
 
 39 
 
 stops beneath a covered way to drink, the people 
 cluster round, and you have time to breath again." 
 
 Among the transportation interests which to-day 
 ranks next to the railway and the telegraph as a 
 private enterprise, is the express business. It was a 
 feature of early railroading, having originated away 
 back in 1839, by a man named Harnden, who was an 
 employee of the Boston and Worcester railroad. Two 
 conductors on that road first took hold of the idea. 
 Bankers sent money to Boston by their hands; mer- 
 chants ordered goods through them. Soon the con- 
 ductors made more money expressing than they did 
 on the road. The corporation interfered and the 
 men had their choice to give up carrying parcels or 
 resign. Some one proposed to make the carrying of 
 money and parcels a trade by itself, and Harnden 
 caught the idea. With a small trunk in his hand he 
 began the express business between Boston, Provi- 
 dence and New York City on steamboats running 
 between those points. Soon after, or early in 1840, 
 Alvin Adams met a friend in Boston who was full of 
 the new business, and suggested that an express on 
 the Worcester road would be just as successful as 
 Harnden' s. Adams caught the idea, but he found 
 that Harnden had already secured that line. The 
 road would not listen to any proposition made by Mr. 
 Adams. 
 
40 FORTY YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 " There is not business enough for two lines," said 
 the head official. "Harnden has the franchise of the 
 road. He does his work well, and the company will 
 not interfere." 
 
 Mr. Adams then went to New York to interview 
 Mr. Coit, of the Norwich boats, but this gentleman 
 would concede nothing, and denounced the express 
 men as nuisances. 
 
 " One line is quite enough for the land," said Mr. 
 Coit, closing the interview. 
 
 The office of the Stonington boat was next visited, 
 and different tactics adopted. 
 
 " I want two season tickets between Boston and 
 New York," said Mr. Adams. 
 
 "How often do you want to travel?" 
 
 "As often as I choose. That is what a season 
 ticket means, I believe." . 
 
 "I know what you are after," said the official, 
 " but you shall have the tickets." 
 
 Mr. Adams put one ticket in his pocket and gave 
 the other to his associate. 
 
 Mr. Harnden had just vacated his well known 
 stand in Boston for what he thought better quarters, 
 and his rival immediately rented the noted place, 
 which he kept for years. A small trunk held the 
 packages of the first day's work, and the money 
 received for the first trip was two dollars and seventy- 
 
EARLY RAILROADING. 41 
 
 five cents. Mr. Adams carried his express packages 
 as personal baggage, and went to New York one day, 
 returning the next. He soon took William B. Dins- 
 more to manage the New York end of the business. 
 A little later Mr. Dinsmore found John Hoey selling 
 papers on the cars, took him into his office and made 
 him one of the ablest expressmen of the age. Thus 
 assisted, Mr. Adams began to see brighter days. 
 The Worcester road soon saw its mistake and sent 
 word to him, "You can have our line if you want it." 
 
 Stevens, of the Camden and Amboy road, was one 
 of the greatest railroad men of his day. He looked 
 on expressage as an intruder and an antagonist. 
 Express matter had to be smuggled over his line, the 
 packages being nailed up in boxes and sent as freight. 
 Mr. Adams went to New Jersey' to see Mr. Stevens 
 and try to win some concession from him. The latter 
 accused the expressman of defrauding his company by 
 smuggling express freight over the road. Mr. Adams 
 met the charge like a man, explained his plan, and 
 showed how much better it would be for the road to 
 charge reasonably for express-freight than to send it 
 by bulk. 
 
 " Make a contract with Mr. Adams for thirty days, 
 and see how it works," said Mr. Stevens to the vice- 
 president, at the close of the interview. 
 
 " This contract is for thirty days, It may last 
 
42 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 thirty years," remarked the vice-president as the 
 papers were signed, and it did. 
 
 Thus did Mr. Adams beat down opposition until 
 his business extended all over the country. Henry 
 Wells and William G. Fargo later founded rival 
 companies, express interests growing with every mile 
 of track laid in the land. 
 
 No sooner had railroads proved a success than a 
 mania for constructing them sprang up in all quarters 
 of the country. They were the talk of the day in 
 newspapers, on street-corners, and in every other 
 place where men gathered. They were the subject 
 under discussion in excited town-meetings, and 
 aroused feelings of bitterness between hamlets and 
 villages that had previously lived in complete har- 
 mony with one another. The fever was at its height 
 in the States bordering on the Atlantic, but the West 
 also had a good share of road-building. By 1832 nine- 
 teen roads were either completed or projected in the 
 United States. The first road in Ohio was started in 
 1835, and was known as the Mad Eiver and Lake 
 Erie line. The first road out of Chicago was char- 
 tered in 1836 as the Galena and Chicago Union, but 
 owing to the financial crash of 1837, no work wa g 
 done on it until 1847. In 1839, a line was con- 
 structed from Lexington, Kentucky, to Frankfort in 
 the same State, Henry Clay being among its warmest 
 
EARLY RAILROADING. 43 
 
 advocates and largest stockholders. In 1841, there 
 was an immense excitement over the opening of the 
 Western road from Boston to Albany. Everybody 
 who amounted to anything took a trip " out West " on 
 this wonderful line, and newspapers were kept busy 
 reporting the exchanges of hospitality between the 
 officials and other noted citizens of the two capitals. 
 
 Up to 1850 there was but one line between the 
 seaboard and the lakes. For several years afterward 
 there were only three railroads to the West running 
 out of New York City. These w^ere the Erie, the New 
 York Central, and the Pennsylvania. The Erie and 
 New York Central were early rivals. It was the plan 
 of their projectors, as far as practicable, to avoid the 
 mountain track, taking a north-westerly course out of 
 New York City ; hence, their routes ran almost 
 parallel, and, in consequence, in the struggle to get 
 possession of a short line which was, however, a very 
 important link, but which happened to occupy a piece 
 of debatable territory between the two trunk lines 
 mentioned arose the Erie railway war, one of the 
 most fiercely contested of railroad strifes. 
 
 Ground was broken for the Schenectady and 
 Albany the second road constructed in New York 
 State on the 25th of July, 1830. In 1853, in con- 
 junction with several other disconnected local roads, 
 it was consolidated into one corporation under the 
 
44 FORTY YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 name of tho " New York Central Kailroad Company." 
 Up to 1866 thirteen distinct local links had been 
 merged into this one line. 
 
 To William Wilson, of Fonda, New York, belongs 
 the honor of having hauled the first train of cars 
 between Schenectady and Albany. He drew it with a 
 team of horses. When the first locomotive was put 
 into use on this road he was employed, with other 
 young men, in sodding the sides of thr embankment 
 along the line. He said that the train ran so slowly 
 that he often amused himself and provoked the 
 engineer by running across the track in front of the 
 engine with an armful of sod, and back again, while 
 the train was making its best time.. 
 
 My native State was one of the most conservative 
 in adopting the railroad. The late Josiah Quincy left 
 some particulars about his experience with the people 
 of Dorchester, Massachusetts, from which I quote the 
 following, as it illustrates so well the spirit of that 
 day in many sections: 
 
 " The Old Colony road passes over a route which I 
 caused to be surveyed at my own expense, with the 
 view of providing cheap transportation from the towns 
 of Dorchester and Quincy, and others to the south of 
 them. Now can the reader believe that the words I 
 have italicized were chosen so late as 1842 by the 
 inhabitants of the town of Dorchester, in regular town 
 
EARLY RAILROADING. 
 
 45 
 
 meeting assembled, to express their sense of the 
 injury that would result to them and their possessions 
 by laying a track through any portion of their terri- 
 tory ? ' Resolved, That our representatives be in- 
 structed to use their utmost endeavors to prevent, if 
 
 THE AUTHOR FORTY YEARS AGO. 
 
 21. 
 
 possible, so great a calamity to our town as must be 
 the location of any railroad through it, and if that 
 cannot be prevented, to diminish this calamity as far 
 as possible by confining the location to the route 
 herein designated.' ' 
 
46 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 In addition to these words of Mr. Quincy, I will 
 also quote an extract from a newspaper article pub- 
 lished by a citizen of Dorchester soon after the 
 meeting just spoken of. It is as follows: 
 
 " What better or more durable communication can 
 be had than the Neponset river, or the wide Atlantic? 
 By using these, our thriving village will not be 
 destroyed, our enterprising mechanics ruined, our 
 beautiful gardens and farms made desolate, and our 
 public or private interests most seriously affected. 
 Look at the rapid growth of Neponset village, through 
 which this contemplated road is to run (the citizens 
 of which are as enterprising and as active as can be 
 found, many of whom have invested their all either in 
 trade, mechanical manufactures, or real estate), and 
 all all are to be sacrificed under a car ten thousand 
 times worse for the public than the car of the Jug- 
 gernaut." 
 
 It scarcely seems credible that these words were 
 written in educated Massachusetts, less than fifty 
 years ago. 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 A MILE A MINUTE. 
 
 In these days of lightning express trains it is hard 
 to realize that fifty years ago the locomotive was in its 
 infancy, and its possibilities were not dreamed of. At 
 that time a well known resident of Liverpool said that 
 if it were ever proved possible for a locomotive engine 
 to go ten miles an hour, he would undertake to eat a 
 stewed engine-wheel for breakfast. Whether the 
 gentleman lived to partake of this meal is not 
 recorded. 
 
 The press almost universally scoffed at the same 
 idea of rapid locomotion, declaring it impossible and 
 denouncing its advocates as lunatics and fanatics. 
 " Twelve miles an hour ! " exclaimed the " Quarterly 
 Eeview," about the time of which I have been 
 speaking, "twelve miles an hour! As well might a 
 man be shot out of a Congreve rocket." 
 
 About 1830, George Stephenson was cross-examined 
 by a Parliamentary committee in regard to construct- 
 ing a railroad from Liverpool to Manchester, and a 
 member of that body closely questioned the great 
 
 47 
 
48 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 engineer, the interview being thus given in a recent 
 work on railway history. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Stephenson, perhaps you could go 
 seventeen miles an hour? " 
 
 " Yes," was the reply. 
 
 " Perhaps some twenty miles might be reached? " 
 
 " Yes, certainly." 
 
 " Twenty-five, I dare say, you do not think impos- 
 sible?" 
 
 " Certainly not impossible." 
 
 "Dangerous?" 
 
 "Certainly not." 
 
 " Now, tell me, Mr. Stephenson," said the Parlia- 
 mentary member with indignation, " will you say that 
 you can go thirty miles? " 
 
 " Certainly," was the answer as before. 
 
 Questions ended for the time, and the wiseacres of 
 the committee burst into a roar of laughter, but 
 Stephenson built the road, and on his trial trip 
 astonished the world with a speed of thirty-six miles 
 an hour. 
 
 About the time England was ridiculing its early 
 railroad efforts, in America people were laughing a 
 good deal over the race between a horse and a loco- 
 motive, in which horse-power won. In those early 
 days Peter Cooper built the locomotive "Tom Thumb," 
 for the Baltimore road, and ran a race with the 
 
A MILE A MINUTE. 49 
 
 gallant gray horse owned by the stage proprietors, 
 Messrs. Stockton and Stokes. The horse was attached 
 to a car on the second track. The race is thus 
 described : 
 
 "Away went horse and engine, the snort of the 
 one keeping time to the puff of the other. The gray 
 had the best of it at first, getting a quarter of a mile 
 ahead while the engine was getting up steam. The 
 blower whistled, the steam blew off in vapory clouds, 
 the pace increased, the passengers shouted, the engine 
 gained on the horse, the silk was applied, the race 
 was neck-and-neck, nose-to-nose ; then the engine 
 passed the horse, and a great hurrah hailed the 
 victory. But just at this moment, when the gray's 
 master was about giving up, the band which turned 
 the pulley that moved the blower slipped from the 
 drum and the safety valve ceased to scream, and the 
 engine, for want of breath, began to wheeze and pant. 
 In vain Mr. Cooper, who was his own engineer and 
 fireman, lacerated his hands in attempting to replace 
 the band on the wheel; the horse gained on the 
 machine and passed it, to his great chagrin. Al- 
 though the band was presently replaced, and steam 
 qgain did its best, the horse was too far ahead 'to be 
 overtaken, and came in winner of the race." 
 
 This little engine was only meant for an experi- 
 ment, but it was the first American locomotive ever 
 4 
 
50 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 constructed. Next came Miller's engine, greater 
 speed being attained each year. Even so late as 1841, 
 it was stated as an astonishing fact that " after 
 leaving Boston in the morning, travelers would in 
 fifteen hours be in Albany." When the century 
 reached its middle year, runs that may be regarded as 
 fast even to-day were often made, and of these by far 
 the most remarkable was made in 1848, on the road 
 with which I was first identified. 
 
 Mr. Minot, superintendent of the Boston and 
 Maine railroad in its early days, was a progressive man, 
 always on the alert for improvements that should 
 make his line stand among the first in the country. 
 One day in 1848 he conceived the idea of running a 
 mile a minute, and when once the thought entered his 
 mind, he enthusiastically bent every energy towards 
 realizing it. He had a ten-ton engine built to order 
 at the works of Hinkley and Drury, of Boston, and 
 named it the "Antelope," in anticipation of its speed. 
 It had single drivers, six feet in diameter. Mr. 
 Minot watched the progress of the " Antelope " at the 
 works with jealous care, and declared it should run a 
 mile a minute, or go back to the shops. 
 
 Lawrence, a station twenty-six miles out of Boston, 
 was chosen by the superintendent as the terminus of 
 the trial trip. Every detail was carefully arranged in 
 order to give the new engine a chance to break all pre- 
 
A MILE A MINUTE. 51 
 
 vious records. Nothing escaped the eagle eye of the 
 superintendent. He was especially careful in select- 
 ing his men for the run. 
 
 " Can you put me in Lawrence in twenty-six minutes, 
 Pemberton?" he asked of the best engineer on the 
 road. 
 
 "It's as good as taking your life in your own 
 hands, sir," replied Mr. Pemberton. 
 
 "Not at all," said Mr. Minot. "If you won't do 
 it, I'll make the run myself." 
 
 As every man on the road knew, the enterprising 
 superintendent besides being a natural mechanic, and 
 as competent an engineer as ever handled a lever, was 
 careful and conscientious about risking human life 
 even to a scrupulous degree. 
 
 " Will you do it, Pemberton?" again asked the 
 superior officer, as the engineer still hesitated. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Good I'll ride with you." 
 
 Choosing a day for the trial trip, men were sent 
 over the road to spike down all the switches and see 
 that everything was in perfect order. Station agents 
 were warned not to permit any obstructions on the 
 track. It was before Mr. Morse had introduced 
 telegraphy, and to run a mile a minute, a speed until 
 then unheard of, required the utmost forethought and 
 most careful preparation. All trains were either side- 
 
52 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 tracked or taken off the road for the trip, and an 
 engine was sent ahead to see that all instructions 
 were carried out. 
 
 The coming trial of the " Antelope " was talked of 
 far and near, and the event was awaited eagerly in 
 railroad circles. Eepresentatives of the leading 
 Boston papers were invited to accompany the superin- 
 tendent, and when the appointed day arrived, they, 
 with a few other guests, were given possession of the 
 only car that was to make the run. 
 
 A large crowd gathered at the station and amid 
 cheers and waving of hats, the engineer pulled open 
 the throttle, while Mr. Minot, who stood by his side, 
 gave a parting salute with his hand. 
 
 Slowly the engine gathered headway, then it went 
 thundering on faster and faster, the six-foot drivers 
 annihilating space at a rate before unheard of. Boston 
 was soon left behind, and the " Antelope " plunged into 
 the open country with the fleetness of the wind, Mr. 
 Minot smiling with pleasure as he kept one eye on the 
 steam-gauge, and the other on the rapidly receding 
 fence-posts, ever and anon speaking a short, quick 
 sentence to the brave engineer. Everything worked 
 to a charm ; not the smallest detail in the engine was 
 faulty. 
 
 The pace increased amid the cheers of the passen- 
 gers, notwithstanding the jolting over rough bits of 
 
A MILE A MINUTE. 53 
 
 road, which were numerous in those days, when track- 
 laying had not reached its present excellence. It only 
 added to the general excitement when they were 
 nearly thrown from their seats as the train plunged 
 around a sharp curve, or narrowly escaped jumping 
 the track. Few of the guests had nerves steady 
 enough to keep them from feeling a little fear, for 
 after all they were simply making an experiment, and 
 who could foretell the result? 
 
 Mr. Minot never lost his confidence in being able 
 to reach Lawrence in twenty-six minutes, when once 
 the "Antelope" had fairly started on its new career. 
 
 On they sped, now past a group of country people 
 whose horses often took fright and started off in all 
 directions to escape the snort of the monster. Then 
 the train dashed by a station filled with a wondering 
 crowd whose cheers could be heard but a second by 
 the passengers of the lightning express, and again 
 they passed over a stretch of down-grade. 
 
 Half way to Lawrence Mr. Minot looked at his 
 watch. 
 
 " Fourteen minutes," he said. " That won't do, 
 Pemberton; we are a minute behind." 
 
 Shutting his lips more firmly, the engineer threw 
 the throttle wide open, and the "Antelope" obeyed 
 its master. 
 
 Not a single mishap occurred; all the switches were 
 in perfect order ; not a man had failed in his duty. 
 
54 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 At the first glimpse of Lawrence Mr. Minot again 
 looked at his watch. A smile lighted up his face and 
 his eyes had a look of exultation. As they neared the 
 station he stood with his watch in hand, and just as 
 the engineer brought the train to a stand-still, the 
 time-piece marked twenty-six minutes. 
 
 A great crowd awaited the "Antelope's" arrival, 
 eager to know whether the much talked of deed 'had 
 been accomplished. 
 
 "Did you make it?" cried out an excited on- 
 looker. 
 
 " Yes," shouted Mr. Minot in return. 
 
 In a moment, cheer after cheer arose for the men 
 who had first driven an engine a mile a minute. The 
 guests and the rest of the spectators pressed forward 
 to shake hands with the superintendent and his 
 engineer, and to offer congratulations, while crowds 
 flocked from far and near to look at the engine that 
 had accomplished so wonderful a run. 
 
 Glowing accounts of the event were given in all 
 of the Boston papers, and Mr. Minot received an 
 ovation such as seldom has fallen to the lot of a rail- 
 road man before or since. 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF OTHER DAYS. 
 
 In the East, as was afterward true in the West, it 
 was often hard for out-of-town residents to get trains 
 to stop at their stations, and to secure other privileges 
 upon which the growth of their villages depended. 
 When I began railroading in 1847, a little group of 
 people had settled about a mile out of Medford, or six 
 miles from Boston. They waited on the superintend- 
 ent of the road one day, with a request that he would 
 stop the train at their settlement. He refused, not 
 thinking the venture would pay, but they persisted in 
 their demand. When he still remained firm in his 
 refusal, they went away declaring they would make 
 him stop his train whether he wanted to or not. 
 There was a heavy grade at the place, and when we 
 struck it the next day the engine wheels began to slip, 
 and after a moment or two we came to a full stop 
 where several of the settlers were standing. They 
 jumped aboard while the engineer got out to investi- 
 gate into the cause of our delay. He found the track 
 on the grade had been smeared with molasses, and he 
 
 55 
 
56 FORTY YEAES ON THE BAIL. 
 
 had to back up till lie could get momentum enough to 
 carry him over the hill. In the face of such persist- 
 ence, there was 110 use in trying to run past that 
 station after that. 
 
 While I was on the Portland run, John S. Dunlap 
 was assistant superintendent, or what was then called 
 transportation-master. His brother, George L. Dun- 
 lap, now a Chicago capitalist, was then a lad about my 
 own age and was a clerk in the ticket office. George 
 Dunlap and I slept together in the large hall over the 
 depot, and many a prank did we play at night, often 
 getting in danger of severe reprimands from Superin- 
 tendent Minot, who slept in a room adjoining. We 
 boys made the depot watchman's life a burden to him. 
 He was none too brave and his nerves were under a 
 terrific strain as he made his half -hourly rounds at 
 night and pulled a wire leading to a time-clock. Each 
 pull drove a pin in the clock, and if one of these were 
 missing in the morning, it cost him a fine of ten 
 cents. One dark night Dunlap and I lay for the 
 watchman behind a train of cars that had been side- 
 tracked. We had a box of empty pop-bottles, and 
 when the poor man came around the corner, peering 
 about to see if anything had gone wrong, we com- 
 menced a fusilade of bottles, which fell on the depot 
 platform with such a rattle and a crash that they 
 scared the poor fellow almost out of his senses. He 
 
REMINISCENCES OF OTHER DAYS. 57 
 
 took to his heels shouting at the top of his voice for 
 the police. Everyone was roused, but before the 
 superintendent had reached the scene of action, 
 George and I were in bed and apparently sound 
 asleep. We may have been suspected of this and 
 similar pranks, but we were lucky enough never to 
 get caught. 
 
 Dunlap in those days was very fond of going out 
 to ride on an engine, and. when anything of unusual 
 interest was in progress, he was always on hand. I 
 remember one day there had been a fearful snow- 
 storm, and huge drifts covered fences and small 
 buildings out of sight and were piled high all along 
 the road. We attached two or three engines to the 
 snow-plow to clear the track. Dunlap, ever ready to 
 perform some daring feat, got on the plow with the 
 shovelers. All went well for a while and the boys 
 enjoyed the fun, until the engines got near South 
 Heading, when the plow jumped the track and went 
 over the fence, throwing Duiilap and the rest in all 
 directions. A pretty thoroughly scared set of boys 
 they were for a minute, as they whizzed through the 
 air, but they were not hurt and they soon joined in 
 the general laugh. Dunlap says he never attempted 
 to ride on a snow-plow after that. 
 
 In those early days we boys often took liberty of 
 action which would drive a man from the profession 
 
58 FOKTY YEAES ON THE KAIL. 
 
 if put into practice in our present times of perfect 
 order and discipline. I remember baggage-masters 
 Israel Lebay, Albert Prescott and myself once took it 
 into our heads to change off trains, and without saying 
 a word to Superintendent Minot about it, we went out 
 on runs to suit ourselves. It only took Mr. Minot a 
 day to discover that something was wrong. 
 
 "What does this mean?" he demanded, as he 
 looked over the schedule and saw none of us were on 
 the right train. 
 
 Naturally we could give him no satisfactory expla- 
 nation, and he summarily discharged every one of us. 
 However, he punished us thus severely merely as a 
 lesson, for we were all reinstated after a few days. 
 
 My misdemeanor gave me an unexpected increase 
 in pay. When I went to Mr. Minot to ask him to 
 take me back, and when he agreed to do so, I 
 jokingly remarked that I had heard that when a man 
 was discharged and hired over again, it had always 
 been a custom to raise his pay. Mr. Minot laughed 
 heartily and then said, " All right, Charley, I will 
 give you five dollars more per month. I guess you 
 have had discipline enough to earn it this time." 
 
 After running the Portland train nearly two years, 
 I married, when about twenty years old, and shortly 
 afterward moved to Eeading, Massachusetts, where I 
 was baggageman on the Beading train, with Elbridge 
 
REMINISCENCES OF OTHER DAYS. 59 
 
 Wood for my conductor. I remember while on this 
 run I told a straight lie to get off duty. It was in 
 August, 1850, when my first baby was born. This is 
 how it happened. Our cozy home was in plain sight 
 from the road, across a broad field not far from 
 Reading depot. I had told my wife before leaving 
 home if all went well to have a white flag hung out of 
 the window when the train passed through, and to put 
 out a red signal if ill news awaited me. That day for 
 some reason the regular conductor was off duty and 
 George L. Dunlap ran the train. I tried hard to keep 
 my mind on my work all day long, but did not 
 succeed very well. There was a curve in the road 
 just before the train came in sight of my house, and I 
 remember now that my heart was in my mouth and 
 my eyes were pretty dim as I swung myself out from 
 the baggage-car to get a glimpse as soon as I could of 
 the signal that I knew would be waiting for me. 
 
 " Cheer up, old boy," said Dunlap, who stood near 
 me, " I know it's all right." 
 
 We passed the curve, and though my eyes nearly 
 failed me at the moment, I saw the white flag. 
 
 " What does it mean?" said Dunlap. 
 
 Just then my desire to see that baby became so 
 strong that truth and duty faded out of existence. 
 
 "It means," I said hurriedly, "that I must goto 
 my wife right off." 
 
60 FORTY YEAKS ON THE HAIL. 
 
 " Go ahead then," was ths hearty response, and ere 
 long I was off duty, on my way to the cottage home. 
 
 Long years passed before I confessed to Mr. 
 Dunlap that I had deceived him, but we have often 
 spoken of it since, in talking over the reminiscences of 
 our early days together. 
 
 About the time of which I have just spoken, Super- 
 intendent Minot left his old road and accepted the 
 superintendency of the famous Erie line. His loss 
 was deeply felt, and many of his best men accompanied 
 him. Among those who went were H. G. Brooks, 
 Henry Sweetzer, Henry Hobbs, David Pasho, Santa 
 Anna Sherman, William Hall, and Guy Clarke. 
 
 H. G. Brooks, who afterward founded the mammoth 
 Brooks Locomotive Works, which are located at Dun- 
 kirk, New York, ran the engine " Andover " on our old 
 road, and he and I were warm friends. Being a man 
 of more than ordinary ability, he rose rapidly in rail- 
 road circles, and his career may be given as an 
 example of how promotions were made in the olden 
 days. In November, 1856, he was appointed master- 
 mechanic of the Ohio and Mississippi railway; in 
 April, 1860, he became master-mechanic of the 
 western division; in October, 1860, while still retain- 
 ing his former position, he was made superintendent 
 of the same division; in March, 1865, he became 
 superintendent of motive power and machinery of the 
 
REMINISCENCES OF OTHER DAYS. 61 
 
 Erie railroad, with headquarters at New York, and in 
 1869 he established the works that still bear his 
 name, and that have grown to such enormous propor- 
 tions. 
 
 It will be of interest in these days when methods 
 are so different to read what difficulties had to be 
 overcome thirty or forty years ago, so I quote from a 
 personal letter received by me from Mr. Brooks in 
 March, 1887, in which he gives the following incident: 
 
 "Engine No. 90, which I brought from Boston to 
 Dunkirk, was shipped from the Hinkley works (then 
 known as the Boston Locomotive Works), in October, 
 1850, on a coasting vessel for Piermont, New York, 
 where she was transferred to a canal boat and trans- 
 ported to Buffalo over the Erie canal, there trans- 
 ferred to a schooner and brought to Dunkirk; the 
 entire time occupied in the transportation of the 
 locomotive from Boston to Dunkirk being forty-four 
 days." 
 
 On April 22nd, only six weeks from the day on 
 which this letter was written to me, passed away my 
 old friend, who was one of the greatest locomotive 
 builders in the United States. H. G. Brooks was 
 born in Andover, Massachusetts, and at the time of his 
 death was fifty-nine years of age. He was a man of 
 rare social qualities, was generous to a fault, and was 
 much beloved by all with whom he came in contact. 
 
62 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 His funeral was the largest ever known in Western 
 New York, friends gathering from all parts of the 
 nation to pay their tribute of respect to the 
 noble man. The employees of the works gathered 
 about the grave of the departed and as each dropped 
 into it a branch of evergreen, their tears fell upon 
 the last resting place of their beloved master and 
 friend. Mr. Brooks was buried in Forest Hill 
 Cemetery, Fredonia, New York. 
 
 Not long after leaving the East, Mr. Minot and 
 other friends who had gone with him urged me to 
 join them. " It's too far," I answered, but the offer 
 of a conductor's place at last induced me to accept the 
 proposition made me and I started West. It seems queer 
 now-a-days to hear how New York State was con- 
 sidered " out West" then. I soon found the country 
 too far from the " Hub of the Universe " to suit my 
 tastes. I had never before been so far away from 
 Boston, and I was too firmly attached to the good old 
 city not to miss it sadly, so I started back home. 
 After taking a trip over the road, I returned eastward 
 by. way of Lake Erie, Lake Ontario, the St. Lawrence 
 River and the Rutland and Burlington road, thus 
 taking a long journey for those days. Stopping at 
 Rutland, I accepted the position of conductor on the 
 Western Vermont railroad, of which Walter S. 
 Johnson was superintendent, and soon moved my 
 
REMINISCENCES OF OTHER DAYS. 63 
 
 little family to that city. W. P. Johnson, our general 
 ticket and passenger agent at that time, and who was 
 afterward the general passenger agent of the Illinois 
 Central for a quarter of a century, is now with the 
 Lake Shore and Michigan Southern in the same 
 position. The corps of conductors on the Western 
 * Vermont at the time of which I speak included only 
 George L. Dunlap, Jesse Burdette and myself. 
 
 In 1851 I began my duties in Yermont. Many a 
 pleasant memory comes to me from those days, as they 
 are full of reminiscences both curious and interesting. 
 
 One dark, foggy night, as we pulled out of 
 Bennington about nine o'clock, I warned my engineer, 
 Mr. Nash, to run slowly through a deep cut about five 
 miles from the station. " All right," he answered, 
 and though he was a fearless, devil-may-care sort of 
 fellow, who enjoyed nothing in the world better than 
 a swift dash through the roaring tempest, he obeyed 
 orders, and as a result averted a terrible accident. 
 
 Just as we rounded the curve into the cut, the 
 engine struck a huge bowlder that had been dis- 
 lodged from the mountain side and had rolled to the 
 center of the track and stopped. The engine and 
 baggage- car were thrown from the track, but our 
 speed was so slow that no one was hurt. 
 
 Charley Moody, my baggage- master, was a comical 
 genius who stammered badly. He was nearly 
 
64 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 frightened to death at the accident, and when I asked 
 him what he thought when the baggage-car was 
 climbing up the rocks, he stuttered out: " I 
 th-th thought it was the se-se-second co-co-coming." 
 One day we ran into a wash out near Arlington, where 
 the embankment had sunk in. We jumped it all 
 right, but Moody was so startled that he made a flyingf 
 leap from the car door and slid down the bank for 
 seventy or eighty feet into the water below. We 
 stopped and then went back for him, expecting to find 
 his dead body, or at the best hoping he might have 
 escaped with a broken leg or arm and no more serious 
 injuries, but we found him scrambling up the 
 embankment and starting, down the track plastered 
 with mud fronrhead to foot. 
 
 " What did you think, Charley, when you found 
 yourself sliding down the hill ? " I asked him. 
 
 "Th-th -think? Th - th - think ?" he answered. 
 " Wh-wh-what did I th-think? I tli-th-thought the 
 mi-mi-millennium had come." 
 
 We three conductors, Dunlap, Burdette and I, gave 
 a ball at the Orvis House at Manchester, Yermont, 
 at one time. We were given the freedom of the house 
 for the night by the genial proprietor, and conductors 
 were there from the New York Central, the Vermont 
 Central, the Kutland and Burlington, the Hudson 
 River and other roads, the company numbering about 
 
REMINISCENCES OF OTHER DAYS. 
 
 05 
 
 THE MEDFOBD TRAIN. Page 55. 
 
 thirty couples in all. Everything 
 wine, brandy, cigars, supper was 
 included in the bill, and we had a grand 
 time, as may well be expected. When the 
 ladies had retired, about two o'clock in the 
 morning Dunlap and a few others, including myself, sat 
 up " to make a night of it," as we all said. Having 
 been given the freedom of the place, we made ourselves 
 perfectly at home, as we felt at liberty to do. We 
 went up into the attic where we found a lot of old 
 
66 FOKTY YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 revolutionary accoutrements, such as hats, bayonets, 
 old swords, and the like. After a great deal of fun, 
 we dressed Dunlap in some outlandish fashion, put a 
 sword in his hand and proclaimed him captain. 
 Having formed a mock military company, we marched 
 with great state and noise to the rooms of those con- 
 ductors who had dared to go to bed. We routed them 
 out and made them join us in the night's sport, that 
 only ended with the rising of the sun. 
 
 We were not in very good condition for work in 
 the morning, our heads feeling a little larger than usual, 
 so the three of us got permission from Mr. Johnson to 
 let our baggagemen take our runs. The president of 
 the road lived at Manchester, and when we reached 
 the station he saw us and inquired who was running 
 our trains. We managed to make it all right with 
 him, so our night's fun cost us nothing more serious 
 than aching heads. 
 
 Old Uncle Daniel Curtiss, as the trainmen all 
 called him, was an eccentric station agent at North 
 Dorset, Yermont. He never wore a hat in summer or 
 winter, rough or pleasant weather. He was known 
 far and near for his eccentricity and often went to 
 Troy, New York, sixty miles, and back bare-headed. 
 Before the railroad was built, he frequently trudged 
 between these two towns on foot, but he was never 
 under any circumstances seen with a hat on. It was 
 
REMINISCENCES OF OTHER DAYS. 67 
 
 his custom to have a dance at his house every winter, 
 and on one occasion he invited Dunlap, Johnson and 
 myself to attend. It was amusing to us to watch the 
 country lads and lassies who had come down from the 
 mountains to have a night's fun. Some of the girls 
 being at least six feet in height, dancing was a rather 
 hard task for us boys who were so much shorter. Uncle 
 Daniel drew us aside and whispered to us during the 
 evening that he had bought some extra fine brandy 
 especially for us, and had actually paid seventy-five 
 cents a gallon for it. It is almost needless to remark 
 that, although Ave enjoyed the evening hugely, we 
 indulged but sparingly in the brandy. 
 
 One day I happened to be on Dunlap' s train when 
 we accomplished a remarkable and daring feat, the like 
 of Avhich was probably never known before and doubt- 
 less has not been since. The train consisted of a bag- 
 gage-car and two passenger coaches, with the engine 
 "General Stark," but recently built at the Lawrence 
 Locomotive Works. The engineer was "Dick" Allen, 
 now known to the world as Kichard Norton Allen, the 
 inventor of the famous paper car- wheel called by his 
 name, and a wealthy capitalist of Cleveland. About 
 five miles from Bennington, the train ran over a steer 
 and the engine and two cars were thrown off the 
 track. It seemed to me that the only way to get another 
 engine was to run a hand-car or walk. 
 
68 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 "What's to be done, Dunlap? " I said. 
 
 " I'll tell you," lie replied, "it's nearly all down 
 grade to Bennington, so let's uncouple the last car 
 and run her back to the station." 
 
 In these days, anything like that would cost a man 
 his position, but in the olden time quick expedients 
 and great risks were often necessary. When the 
 passengers got out of the rear coach, Dunlap, a 
 brakemaii named Downer and I took the uncoupled 
 car and started off. We went along finely from the 
 first, half doubting what we should do when we got 
 to a piece of up-grade that must be passed. However, 
 fortune was in our favor, and the momentum we had 
 gained took us over the rise of ground and on to the 
 down-grade again. A wandering cow next threatened 
 us and as we stood on the platform, with shouts and 
 gesticulations we managed to frighten off the intrud- 
 ing animal, and soon afterward our car rolled in 
 triumph into Bemiingtoii station. With a relief 
 engine we started back to the scene of the accident, 
 pulled the other engine on the track and went on to 
 Rutland at a terrific speed. The "General Stark" 
 did noblv, for we made our time and connection with 
 
 V ' 
 
 the Rutland and Burlington train going north, while 
 the daring deed was the talk in railroad circles far 
 and near. 
 
 I can remember a couple of fast runs that were 
 
REMINISCENCES OF OTHER DAYS. 69 
 
 made while I was railroading in Vermont, which 
 excited a great deal of interest, being thought remark 
 able in those early days. While John S. Dunlap was 
 superintendent of the Kutland and Burlington road in 
 1853, the government was about to let a contract for 
 carrying the mail, and trial trips were to be made by 
 trains on the Vermont Central and the Rutland and 
 Burlington roads, the road showing the fastest time 
 receiving the contract. 
 
 Superintendent Dunlap called Silas Pearce, one of 
 his best engineers, into the private office one day. 
 
 " Pearce," he said, slowly and deliberately, " tke 
 government is going to give that contract to the road 
 making the fastest time. I want you to make the run 
 and I want that contract. Do you understand?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," respectfully replied the engineer, as he 
 touched his cap and left the room. 
 
 Pearce took especial pains to see that his engine 
 was in perfect order, and when he made the run he 
 beat all previous records between Bellows Falls and 
 Burlington, and easily secured the contract. 
 
 In the same year the run was made from Troy to 
 Rutland, a distance of eighty-five . miles, over the 
 Western Vermont and the Troy and Boston roads, in 
 what was then considered the unusual time of two hours 
 and thirty-five minutes, making four stops and chang- 
 ing engines twice. 
 
70 FORTY YEAES ON THE BAIL. 
 
 I well remember about thirty years ago, that there 
 was a railroad called the New Albany and Salem, 
 which was proverbial for being poor and for paying 
 small wages. It became a laughing stock and a 
 by- word among railroad men, and it used to be said 
 that a passenger would never live to get over the road, 
 as accidents were so frequent. One day a conductor 
 of that line got on board Chauncey Bowies' train on 
 the Michigan Southern road. The poor fellow wore a 
 dilapidated hat, had holes in his shoes, was out at the 
 elbows, and had a most woe-begone expression of 
 countenance. When Chauncey came along for tickets 
 the man handed him a letter stating that he was a 
 passenger conductor on the New Albany road. The 
 letter being written and signed by the superintendent 
 of that line, Chauncey accepted it. A few seats away 
 sat the superintendent of the Michigan Southern, who 
 asked Chauncey who that seedy-looking man was, and 
 why he had passed him. 
 
 " That, sir, is a passenger conductor on the New 
 Albany and Salem. The poor fellow only gets twenty- 
 five dollars a month, and boards and clothes himself." 
 
 " That's right, Chauncey, pass him. Heaven knows 
 he needs it," said the superior officer. 
 
 In closing this chapter of reminiscences of my 
 railroad experiences in New England, I shall give an 
 incident which shows how true is the oft-repeated 
 
REMINISCENCES OF OTHER DAYS. 71 
 
 saying that our occupations leave their impress upon 
 us, and that impress stays with us to our latest hour. 
 Dennis Smart, one of the conductors on the old Boston 
 and Maine road, whom I had known long and well, 
 died a few years ago. Kind friends gathered about 
 his bedside to go with him as far as they could on his 
 new journey. For a long time they waited in silence, 
 to take the last farewell of the veteran conductor. 
 Finally the features of their friend lighted up with 
 something akin to the light that once shone there, 
 and raising his hands in the old familiar way, rang 
 out the words from those dying lips, ''All aboard ! " 
 The arm dropped; all was still; Dennis had passed to 
 the other life. 
 
CHAPTEE V. 
 
 WESTWARD. 
 
 After the century passed its middle point, the 
 attention of the East became more and more called to 
 the Mississippi Valley, with its possibilities for 
 growth and the accumulation of wealth. Eailroads 
 began to creep mile on mile towards the great river, 
 and eastern capital flowed into western enterprises. 
 One city above all others now began to be the point 
 to which attention was turned from all sides. Chicago 
 had arisen by this time to the dignity of a population 
 of thirty-four thousand souls, and capitalists saw that 
 she was necessary to the development of the West, or, 
 as some one has said, " that the wealth of the West 
 must flow through her as the sand must through the 
 neck of an hour-glass." 
 
 The pioneer railroad of the Garden City, the 
 Galena and Chicago Union, had in 1850 reached 
 Elgin, a distance of forty-two miles. Next was pro- 
 jected the Illinois Central. In 1850, Hon. Stephen 
 A. Douglas had obtained the passage of an act of 
 Congress, granting to Illinois every alternate section 
 
 72 
 
WESTWARD. 
 
 73 
 
 of land to a distance of six miles on each side of the 
 line of a railroad which was to be constructed. The 
 original grant of land was 2,595,000 acres. In 1851, 
 the Legislature chartered the Illinois Central Rail- 
 road Company, transferring the lands to it, and, in 
 1852, the officers of the road got permission to enter 
 Chicago along the lake shore. 
 
 From the east the first road to approach the city 
 was the Michigan Central. St. Joseph, Michigan, was 
 for some time the terminus of railroad travel west- 
 ward Travelers generally crossed the lake from that 
 city to Chicago, and St. Joseph was connected by 
 stage with the moving end of the track that was 
 approaching from Detroit. In 1852, the last rail of 
 the Michigan Central road was laid into Chicago. In 
 the meantime the people of northern Indiana con- 
 structed a rival line from Toledo, and this entered the 
 Garden City just three months before its Michigan 
 rival. Other roads followed in quick succession, and 
 Chicago soon became the center of a network of rail- 
 roads that led out to almost every point of the 
 
 9 
 
 compass. 
 
 There were three or four years when the mania for 
 railroad building ran high. In January, 1852, only 
 about forty miles of road connected with Chicago, and 
 at the end of twenty months the mileage had increased 
 forty fold. During this era nearly all the extensions 
 
74 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 and connections that were carried out in the following 
 twenty years were planned, and most of them were 
 completed as originally designed. The Illinois and 
 Wisconsin Railroad Company was incorporated in 1851 ; 
 the Chicago and Milwaukee road was built in 1854; 
 the Chicago and Rock Island was commenced in 1852; 
 the line to St. Louis was begun in 1853; the Chicago 
 and Aurora was inaugurated in 1852; the Pittsburg, 
 Fort Wayne and Chicago, furnishing the third route to 
 the East, was incorporated in 1852. Well may these 
 years be entitled the Eailway Era of the Garden City. 
 The tide of emigration set in with the laying of 
 rails, and so strong was the current from Europe and 
 from the Eastern States, that it was impossible to 
 keep track of their numbers. Men of push who had 
 their fortunes yet to make, as well as men of means 
 who sought investment, gave up their homes in older 
 communities to establish others in the new. Railroad 
 officials and employees were caught in the prevailing 
 fever, and large numbers of them soon became 
 identified with the western roads. As the tide had set 
 in to New York State when the old Erie line was 
 opened, so it set in towards Chicago in the early 
 fifties. How much the city grew under the impetus 
 thus given is shown from the fact that her population 
 increased from about thirty-nine thousand people in 
 1852, to nearly sixty thousand in 1853, a gain of 
 almost fifty-three per cent, in a single year. 
 
WESTWARD. 75 
 
 It would be impossible to name even a fraction of 
 those who left the roads with which I had been 
 identified in New England to take positions on lines 
 tributary to Chicago. As more and more left us, I 
 began to think seriously of trying my luck with them ; 
 accordingly, when in 1854, Walter S. Johnson, who 
 had left Vermont to become superintendent of the 
 Chicago and Aurora railroad, sent for me to take a 
 train 011 his new line, I was prepared to accept his 
 proposition. 
 
 I started for Chicago soon afterward, but on my 
 arrival at Cleveland I picked up a morning paper and 
 read of the terrible scourge of cholera that was killing 
 off Chicago people by the hundreds, so I took the first 
 train for home. A few months later, accompanied by 
 my wife and children, I once again started West, arriv - 
 ing in Chicago on February 12, 1855. A terrible snow 
 storm was raging at the time, and the city was by no 
 means an attractive place. Under the unfavorable 
 circumstances I first saw it, I did not dream that even 
 in my day this western town would not only boast of 
 possessing some among the most palatial residences and 
 hotels and most costly business structures in the 
 world, but would have a population of nearly a million 
 souls, with a fair prospect of becoming the metropolis 
 of the Western Continent. 
 
 We spent only one day in Chicago at the time of 
 
76 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 which I speak, and then went to Aurora, Illinois, 
 where Superintendent Johnson had appointed me 
 station agent, C. C. Wheeler, who was also from 
 Vermont, being ticket agent. Before long Mr. John- 
 son went to what was then called the Chicago and 
 Milwaukee road, and soon I followed him to his new 
 line. 
 
 Before proceeding farther with my personal remi- 
 niscences in the West, I will say a few words about 
 the great railway system with which I became 
 identified at the time of which I have just spoken. 
 The road then only extended from Chicago to the Wis- 
 consin State line, where it connected with the Green 
 Bay and Milwaukee road. This was the beginning of 
 the great Chicago and North-Western railway, which, 
 by consolidation of small lines and by extension, has 
 now become one of the finest, as well as one of the most 
 profitable systems in the world, consisting of over six 
 thousand miles of track. In 1859, the North-Western 
 was formed from several roads, with William B. Ogden 
 as president, Perry H. Smith, vice-president, and 
 George L. Dunlap, superintendent, the latter becoming 
 general manager in a few years, when John C. Gault 
 succeeded to the superintendency. 
 
 Many of the leading officers of this vast railway sys- 
 tem have been associated with its history from early 
 days, and are closely identified with its progress. Their 
 
WESTWARD. 77 
 
 names have become known all over the world and are 
 almost household words in the West. 
 
 M. L. Sykes has been with the road since 1858, 
 succeeding: W. S. Johnson at that time. He was 
 
 o 
 
 superintendent during that and the two succeeding 
 years, and for about twenty years has been its vice- 
 president. He still holds the last named office, and is 
 also secretary and treasurer, with headquarters at 
 New York city. 
 
 Edward J. Cuyler was with the road in 1855 as 
 construction paymaster. He then became a sort of 
 pioneer station-agent, being assigned to the various 
 denned termini as rapidly as the track was laid to 
 such stations. In 1804, he became assistant superin- 
 tendent of the Galena division with his headquarters 
 at Chicago, and, since 1876, he has been superintend- 
 ent of the Wisconsin division. 
 
 C. C. Wheeler was general superintendent of the 
 old Chicago and Milwaukee railroad before its consoli- 
 dation with the North- Western, and Avhen the latter 
 change was made he became general freight agent. 
 Leaving the North-Western for some years, he 
 returned to it as assistant general superintendent, 
 and, in 1880, became its assistant general manager. 
 From December. 1883, to August, 1887, he filled the 
 position of general superintendent of the same road, 
 Sherb. Sanborn, who has been with the road since 
 1874, succeeding Mr. Wheeler at that time. 
 
78 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 Marshall M. Kirkmaii in 1856 was a messenger 
 boy, then he became telegraph operator, then train- 
 dispatcher. In 1860, he was placed at the head of the 
 freight accounting department, entering the general 
 freight department in 1864. He afterward had charge 
 of the freight traffic accounts, then of all accounts and 
 local finances, finally becoming comptroller of this great 
 railroad in 1881. 
 
 Among those who entered the service of the road 
 later, are Charles E. Simmons, who has been con- 
 
 
 
 nected with the land department since 1876, being its 
 land commissioner since 1878. Marvin Hughitt 
 became connected with the road in 1872 as general 
 superintendent, then was second vice-president, then 
 general manager, and is now president. 
 
 With such men as these, and the many others of 
 marked ability whom only lack of space forbids my 
 mentioning, surely the Chicago and North-Western 
 Kailway Company is ably guided, and has a brilliant 
 future before it. The old road has been a friend to 
 me for many a long year, and with all my heart I say, 
 " Good luck to her ! " 
 
 After a stay of four months at Aurora, as I have 
 already said, I followed Mr. Johnson to his new field 
 of labor. At first I was station-agent at Waukegan, 
 Illinois, and after about six weeks became conductor 
 on the road, the two other conductors being W. G. 
 Denison and Luther Perin. 
 
WESTWARD. 79 
 
 While station-agent at Waukegan I established 
 what was among the first, if not the first station eating- 
 house in the United States. This is the way it came 
 about. 
 
 My wife, who was a thrifty New England house- 
 keeper and noted for the excellence of her cooking, 
 began to bake a few pies, a little cake, and some 
 doughnuts for " the boys " who wanted some such 
 refreshments. I had these articles set out on a little 
 table for sale. One day Superintendent Johnson 
 stopped at the station, and noticed this lunch-stand, 
 with its modest, yet appetizing display. 
 
 "Who's this for?" asked Mr. Johnson. 
 
 " For anybody who'll buy," I replied. 
 
 " That's a good idea," he said, " a good idea. You 
 can have one end of the station for a lunch-counter, if 
 you want it, Charley." 
 
 So I fitted up a neat little refectory at one end of 
 the dingy old station, and Mr. Johnson and the train- 
 men soon got into the habit of lunching there every 
 time they stopped. The superintendent had the con- 
 ductors and the brakemen announce refreshments on 
 their trains just before reaching Waukegan, and it 
 was not long before there was a large and regular 
 patronage. Within a year, the place was known from 
 Maine to Minnesota for its neatness and excellent 
 cooking. I ran the eating-house seventeen years, 
 
80 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 fifteen of which I was a conductor on the road, and in 
 all that time I never lost a day's pay on the pay-roll, 
 though I was off duty from two to six weeks a year. 
 Times have changed since, and now-a-days when a 
 man is off duty he loses his pay. 
 
 My passengers on the road were constantly doing 
 kind things to help my eating-house along, making 
 suggestions or giving presents as occasions came up. 
 I may here mention that on few runs are so many fine 
 people to be met as those I came in contact with 
 during my long experience on the Waukegaii train. 
 The university at Evanston attracts to that educational 
 center people of culture and refinement, while other 
 towns along the line can boast of citizens no less dis- 
 tinguished. Judges, lawyers, doctors, college pro- 
 fessors, and statesmen rode with me every day. Some 
 of my passengers are mentioned on various pages of 
 this book, but there are others to whom I would like 
 to give at least a passing notice. Lyman J. Gage 
 rode with me for many years. He is now at the head 
 of* one of the richest banks in the nation, the First 
 National Bank of Chicago. Mr. Gage receives the 
 largest salary of any banker in the United States, and 
 is known all over Europe as being at the head of this 
 line of business. Ex-Governor Beveridge was for a 
 long time one of my passengers. When first I knew 
 him he was a lawyer. Entering the army at the out- 
 
WESTWARD. 81 
 
 break of the rebellion, lie became a general, and in 
 after years was elected governor of Illinois. He has 
 since been collector of the port of Chicago. 
 
 Among the most successful business men who lived 
 on my road were James S. Kirk and Dr. Y. C. Price. 
 Mr. Kirk's business has something of historical 
 interest connected with it, the site of his manufactory 
 being the spot where the first house in Chicago was 
 located, when the place was a mere Indian trading 
 post. On that site Mr. Kirk started a humble business 
 over thirty years ago. To-day the mammoth soap 
 works of James S. Kirk and Sons astonish the world, 
 their like in size and volume of business not being 
 found elsewhere. My good old friend has passed 
 away since I left my old road, but his seven sons most 
 worthily conduct the enterprise which their father 
 founded. 
 
 Dr. Price, of whom I have just spoken, was the 
 originator of the famous Price's baking powder, and 
 his success has been as phenomenal as that of so 
 many of the enterprising men of the Giant City of the 
 West. I can well remember the day when Dr. Price 
 gave me one of the first cans of powder that he made. 
 My wife always used this preparation in her cooking, 
 and often attributed a great part of the success of our 
 eating-house to this fact. 
 
 It would be impossible for me to enumerate all the 
 6 
 
82 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 noted and successful men who rode on my Waukegan 
 train, but I ought not to omit mentioning John Y. 
 Farwell, well known for his work in the Young Men's 
 Christian Association, and Charles B. Farwell, who 
 succeeded our dead hero, John A. Logan, as United 
 States senator. 
 
 My eating-house caused quite a change in my 
 church associations. After several years of railroading, 
 I joined the Methodist Episcopal church, my wife 
 also being, a member, and my children were in the 
 Sunday school Among the various articles for sale 
 at our little refectory was ale. Not long after, a 
 committee of church members waited upon me and 
 informed me that I must stop the sale of this beverage 
 at my place. 
 
 " Gentlemen," I said quietly, " I went into the 
 church with ale, and I can go out with ale. I am 
 sorry I cannot oblige you." 
 
 Shortly afterward I joined the Presbyterian church 
 of the town, where I remained twelve years, most of 
 the time being leader of the choir. 
 
 In 1859, at Waukegan, I identified myself with the 
 Masonic fraternity, in that year becoming a Master 
 Mason. In the two following years I took the degrees 
 of Royal Arch Mason and Knight Templar. I am 
 still a member of Waukegan, Lodge No. 78, F. & A. M., 
 of Chapter No. 41, E. A. M., and of Commandery No. 
 
WESTWARD. 83 
 
 12, K. T. My Masonic associations have been most 
 pleasant, and, being always an active worker in the 
 order, I have thus come in contact with some of the 
 noblest and the most efficient men I ever met. Thus 
 I have formed many warm and lasting friendships, 
 and from that connection come to me now delight- 
 ful reminiscences of people and events that have 
 done most to brighten my life. 
 
 All the time I was running the Waukegan train, I 
 had only one or two accidents and those were not of a 
 serious nature. The first happened in this way. A 
 freight had made an effort to run from "Winnetka to 
 Evanston, but my engineer thinking it was side- 
 tracked at Winnetka, ran into it. Little damage was 
 done and one passenger was slightly hurt. Indeed, 
 with all my railroading I never had a 'serious accident, 
 where a passenger was killed, or much damage was 
 done, and the only personal injury I ever received was 
 in 1848 while making a coupling on an engine at 
 Great Falls. My little finger was badly crushed, but 
 refusing to allow it to be amputated, the doctor suc- 
 ceeded in saving the finger. 
 
 Back in 1856, while running on the Chicago and 
 Milwaukee road, with a train made up of twenty 
 freight cars, a baggage-car and a passenger coach, the 
 second and third cars jumped out of the train entirely, 
 leaving the other cars behind them and landing in the 
 
84 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 ditch, where they lay exactly opposite each other. No 
 damage was done to the rest of the cars, and the 
 train was not stopped by the accident. In fact, it was 
 such a peculiar occurrence that I could scarcely 
 believe that the cars belonged to my train until I 
 had examined the way-bills. No explanation of the 
 cause of their jumping off the track was ever made 
 that seemed plausible. 
 
 This reminds me of another phenomenal jump in 
 my experience, which took place near Boston. We 
 were running in over a double tracked road, when the 
 engine jumped to the second track, every wheel 
 landing on the rails, and we ran side by side for over 
 a hundred yards. 
 
 My experience with trainwreckers has been limited. 
 One day while on the Waukegan run, a man in a fit of 
 delirium tremens rushed out in front of the train and 
 the engine ran down on him, injuring him so that he 
 died in a few hours. His brother, Mike Sweeny, tried 
 to throw my train off the track several times after 
 that in revenge. He placed obstructions on the track 
 at different places, but fortunately he never succeeded 
 in his malicious designs. The Pinkerton detectives 
 finally caught him chaining ties across the rails, and 
 he was sent to prison. 
 
 In my early days on the Waukegan road, I had an 
 engineer who was as devoted to his bottle as to his 
 
86 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 engine. One night when it was time for me to pull 
 out I found I had no engineer. I called out " all 
 aboard " with my usual vigor, and when we failed to 
 start up, I jumped off the train to investigate into the 
 cause of our delay. Superintendent Johnson stood on 
 the platform, and he asked : 
 
 "What's the matter, Charley?" 
 
 " I don't know," I answered, " but I'll soon see." 
 
 Mr. Johnson walked with me to the engine, and 
 there we found that the engineer had not been around 
 all day. 
 
 " I'll fix that," said Colonel Johnson pulling the 
 whistle. In a moment the delinquent came walking 
 toward the engine. 
 
 "Who pulled that whistle? " said the fellow to me 
 in a blustering tone. 
 
 " Go and see," I replied, and he walked down the 
 platform to find out. 
 
 No other engineer being at hand, the superintend- 
 ent simply gave the man a severe reprimand and let 
 him go ahead. I gave the fireman strict orders to do 
 all he could to watch the engine and avoid accidents. 
 It was a dangerous run. We dashed over crossings 
 contrary to orders, and ran on a schedule of our own 
 throughout the journey. It was the last run that 
 engineer ever made on the road. He was discharged 
 the next morning. 
 
WESTWABD. 87 
 
 I can remember another experience I had with this 
 same engineer. It was in 1855, and we were taking 
 out three cars full of children, bound for Evanston 
 where they were to have a picnic. The engineer was 
 intoxicated, but none of us knew it at the time. When 
 he reached Evanston, instead of stopping, he ran 
 straight by the station at a high speed. We stopped 
 the train with the brakes as soon as we could, the 
 engineer claiming that something was wrong about 
 the throttle, so that he could not shut off steam. 
 Fortunately we stopped just in time, for another train 
 was already in sight. I asked the fellow what in the 
 world he was thinking about to do such a fool-hardy 
 thing as that. 
 
 "I was just thinking," said the half -drunken 
 man, " that if I should hit that train, what a lot of 
 little angels these children would make." 
 
 Among the sad reminiscences of my Waukegan 
 run were those connected with the many funerals 
 going from Chicago to Eosehill and Calvary ceme- 
 teries, which are among the largest on the continent. 1 
 remember away back in 1866, when the cholera was 
 raging in Chicago, I ran one of the largest funeral 
 trains that was ever known. I had thirty passenger 
 cars containing over two thousand people, and one 
 freight car in which were the dead bodies of forty 
 persons who had died on the previous day. 
 
88 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 The train with which I was connected so many 
 years and of which I have spoken so often, ran from 
 Waukegan to Chicago and return every day, and was 
 the first accommodation train that ever ran out of the 
 Garden City. When I began on this run, suburban 
 traffic was in its infancy in the West. The vast 
 increase in Chicago's population was then undreamed 
 of. The small city of less than sixty thousand 
 people lay closely built along the river and lake, 
 while north, south, and west stretched a wide expanse 
 of open prairie, broken only by a few farms and per- 
 haps a little village here and there. The necessity 
 for life outside of the limits had not yet arisen. It 
 was thought a great thing when the first train was put 
 on to accommodate the little towns along the lake 
 shore, and it was only by great effort that the train 
 was kept running after it was once started, so strong 
 was the opposition of the directors of the road. I 
 have always regarded it as quite a coincidence that I 
 should have had so much to do with the starting of 
 suburban traffic both in Boston and in Chicago, the 
 cities next to New York, where it is now greatest on 
 this continent. 
 
 Superintendent Johnson was a progressive man, 
 always on the alert to make improvements, and he 
 desired to accommodate passengers in every possible 
 way. When I went on the road we only had four 
 
WESTWARD. 89 
 
 engines of ten tons each for the whole service, or one- 
 half the weight of a single locomotive of to-day. In 
 1857, Colonel Johnson added to our equipment two 
 fifteen-ton engines, larger and heavier than any others 
 on the road, and two extra large passenger coaches 
 that could seat seventy passengers each. The directors 
 regarded this action as a piece of extravagance, but 
 the purchase in time proved a wise investment, as 
 subsequent history plainly shows. 
 
 After the Waukegan train had run about a year, 
 the directors of the road met and passed a resolution 
 to take off the accommodation, as it did not pay. 
 
 " That will never do," Superintendent Johnson 
 instantly remarked when he heard of the resolution. 
 " Charley, you have had a great deal of experience in 
 carrying commutation passengers in Boston; come 
 with me and we'll see what we can do in this matter." 
 
 We went before the directors and strongly urged 
 them not only to continue the train, but to adopt a 
 more liberal policy toward their patrons in the way of 
 generous concessions in fares and a well regulated 
 time-table. 
 
 "This is the way it seems tome, gentlemen," I 
 argued. "When a lawyer comes to town and hangs 
 out his shingle, he does not get clients all at once. 
 Months pass and they then begin to come in, slowly 
 it is true, but it would be folly to take down the 
 
90 FORTY YEAKS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 shingle and leave town just as business showed signs 
 of beginning, even if it didn't pay just then." 
 
 The directors asked me many questions about 
 suburban traffic in Boston, and I stated what I knew 
 of its rise and steady development. 
 
 " If you adopt that course," I said to them, " it 
 will not be long before you'll have to put on a second 
 train, then a third, and a fourth in fact, there is no 
 telling where it will stop." 
 
 After considerable discussion, the directors decided 
 to act on our suggestions. The wisdom of their de- 
 cision has been proved by the vast increase of sub- 
 urban traffic. On my old run, where a single small 
 engine and one coach did all the service for the mere 
 handful of patrons, there are now twenty-six daily 
 trains, carrying two millions and a quarter of passen- 
 gers annually. No more beautiful and flourishing 
 suburban towns exist in the world than Evanston, 
 Winnetka, Glencoe, Highland Park, Lake Forest, 
 Waukegan, and others along this line, while on other 
 branches of this great railway, where a similar liberal 
 course has been followed, towns scarcely less beautiful 
 and prosperous have sprung up over the wide expanse 
 of prairie. 
 
 In the service of the suburban branch of railroad- 
 ing the best of everything is now devoted. The traffic 
 has been reduced to a system. During all seasons, 
 
WESTWARD. 91 
 
 notwithstanding the great extremes of our climate, 
 there is hardly a variation from strict schedule time. 
 Trains run during twenty hours of the twenty-four, 
 accommodating all classes of patrons. Accidents are 
 reduced to a minimum, owing to good management 
 and to the double-tracked roads. Elegant cars, fin- 
 ished in highly polished wood, handsomely cushioned 
 and well lighted, run on well laid and carefully kept 
 tracks, and the contrast between the puny engines of 
 my early days on the road and the present locomotives 
 strikingly illustrates the progress of railroad science. 
 In place of the cheerless shed on Cook Street, our depot 
 in the beginning, to which suburban patrons of our 
 road struggled every morning and evening, through 
 the snows of winter, the deep black mud of spring and 
 fall, and clouds of dust in summer, there now stands 
 an elegant brick structure which combines all modern 
 improvements in point of beauty, convenience and 
 comfort. For the accommodation of all classes of 
 travelers, from the depot run lines of street cars, 
 countless omnibuses, hansoms and other conveyances. 
 In few things connected with the railway service 
 has improvement been so marked as in the omnibus 
 and baggage transportation facilities. In this line 
 Frank Parmelee stands pre-eminent in Chicago, if not 
 in the world. Chicago is a city of magnificent dis- 
 tances, with its depots necessarily far apart; it is the 
 
92 FOKTY YEAKS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 greatest railroad center on the globe, is the chief con- 
 vention city in America, and has a trade second only 
 to New York. Such a metropolis has an enormous 
 transient population, and to meet the needs of this 
 traveling public has been Mr. Parmelee's aim from 
 the first. How well he has succeeded, millions of 
 people can testify. Compared with the lack of system 
 in handling baggage which exists in England and 
 continental Europe, our methods are too far ahead to 
 admit comparison. 
 
 In 1873, my Waukegan eating-house was aban- 
 doned for lack of room, and because the establishment 
 of a similar house in Milwaukee had rendered mine a 
 poor location. The business had made a handsome 
 profit, and with the money thus realized I had made 
 investments in real estate in Chicago and elsewhere. 
 I was lucky in these investments, and considered 
 myself worth about fifty thousand dollars, when the 
 Chicago fire of 1871 caused me to lose heavily. I had 
 not recovered from that loss when the financial panic 
 of 1873 came. At that time I still held a great deal 
 of property, and hoping for a favorable turn of affairs, 
 I was carrying a load of about twenty thousand dollars 
 in debts on part of my real estate. The financial crash 
 made it impossible to sell real estate except at a ter- 
 rible sacrifice, and my affairs became so tangled that 
 when my creditors began to press me I saw the 
 
WESTWARD. 93 
 
 savings of twenty years swept away at a breath. The 
 crash left me deeply buried in debts that since then 
 have been paid dollar for dollar, though the struggle 
 has been a, bitter one. 
 
 South Evanston, one of Chicago's most flourishing 
 suburbs, had been my pet project. In 1867, I bought 
 twenty-two and a half acres of land there and 
 founded that well-known village. In 1872, I opened a 
 subdivision of forty-five acres in Waukegan, in con- 
 nection with Merrill Ladd, who had also been with me 
 in the other enterprise. The money market had begun 
 to grow tight by that time, and when we offered our 
 new property for sale there were few purchasers. We 
 had put all our available money into this project, and 
 now found it impossible to stem the tide that had set 
 in against us. My partner died soon afterward, leav- 
 ing but the remnant of an estate that a few years 
 before had promised to make him wealthy. 
 
 In 1878, just about the time I had reached bottom 
 rock in my financial troubles, and was anxious for a 
 new opening, I met A. B. Pullman. 
 
 " Can you give me one of your hotel cars to New 
 York?" I asked him. 
 
 " I can and will," Mr. Pullman answered heartily. 
 
 Within a few days I was in charge of one of the 
 elegant hotel cars on the New York and Chicago run. 
 While on that route I averaged about twelve thousand 
 
94 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 miles a month, which was a pretty hard task in itself, 
 but for four years I stuck to the hotel car. 
 
 In 1882, I gave up the New York run and went 
 over to the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul road, 
 where I was assigned to a dining car when the road 
 was opened from Chicago to Council Bluffs. Many of 
 the conductors and others connected with the line 
 were old friends, and all were genial companions, so I 
 found my new work very pleasant. At Omaha, I made 
 my home at the Paxton House, and to its worthy pro- 
 prietors, the Kitchen brothers, I owe much for their 
 hospitality. 
 
 Among the officials of the Council Bluffs run, I 
 desire to mention a few with whom I came in contact 
 most. H. C. Atkins, for a long time superintendent, 
 won the respect and love of all as few men have done. 
 When he died, at his bier men wept who for years 
 had not shed a tear. At his funeral, which was the 
 largest ever known in the West, hundreds gathered 
 from all over the country to follow the remains of the 
 noble man to his last resting place. Not content with 
 tributes of flowers, praises of his merits and words of 
 kindness and sympathy for his family, friends sought 
 to testify their appreciation of the beloved superin- 
 tendent in another way, presenting Mrs. Atkins with 
 upwards of thirty thousand dollars as a slight testi- 
 monial of what their hearts desired to express. A. J. 
 
WESTWABD. 95 
 
 Earling succeeded to the place left vacant by Mr. 
 Atkins, and there met with unequivocal success. He 
 is now assistant superintendent of the road. George 
 O. Clinton, a man of marked ability, is superintendent 
 of the Council Bluffs division. F. A. Nash, whom I 
 met more frequently than anyone else while I was on 
 the Council Bluffs run, ably fills the position of 
 general agent for the West, with his office at Omaha. 
 
 I was connected with the Pullman company on 
 various runs, from 1878 to 1887, and of the officials I 
 chiefly met during that time, I can speak only in terms 
 of the highest praise. E. A. Jewett was my superin- 
 tendent on the Chicago division, H. S. Billings of the 
 Erie division, and L. M. Bennett, with whom I had 
 most to do on the Council Bluffs run, was superin- 
 tendent of the Pacific division. It is to such men as 
 these that the great organization, of which I have 
 made extended mention in another chapter, owes its 
 world renowned prosperity and fame. 
 
 I have thus outlined my personal experience with 
 the railroad systems of the great West. When I stop 
 to think of the changes I have witnessed, it often 
 seems more like a dream than a reality. The watch- 
 word of civilization all this time has been " West- 
 ward," and the ''iron horse" has been the main factor 
 in this progress. I have seen roads of a few miles 
 extended into hundreds, and by consolidation these in 
 
96 FOKTY YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 turn formed into famous trunk lines whose like do not 
 exist elsewhere in the world. The little Chicago and 
 Aurora road, extending only to Mendota, Illinois, 
 when I entered its service, has become the great 
 Chicago, Burlington and Quincy. In the same way 
 the little road that crept along the shores of Lake 
 Michigan for forty-five miles when I began to run its 
 first accommodation train, now boasts of being a main 
 artery in the vast system of the Chicago and North 
 Western railway. From small beginnings the old 
 Milwaukee and Prairie du Chien has become the 
 Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul, a superb trunk line 
 of over six thousand miles. Chicago, from being the 
 small city I first saw it, low down in the prairie mud, 
 and with a few frame structures for depots, has be- 
 come not only the great railroad center of the West, 
 but the greatest center in the world, with fine railroad 
 bridges and viaducts, magnificent depots, vast dock- 
 yards, construction and repair shops that are the mar 
 vel of the age. 
 
 The most wonderful of all railroading feats in my 
 day has been the crossing of the continent. In 1850, 
 not a mile of track existed beyond the Mississippi. 
 Those who thought of a road from ocean to ocean 
 were called visionaries, to use the mildest word, and 
 even later, when one enthusiast after another took up 
 the idea, they did little else but impress upon the 
 
WESTWARD. 97 
 
 world an idea of their own foolishness. The first time 
 I ever heard the suggestion made was in 1860, by 
 John Evans, who was ' an almost daily passenger on 
 my train. Mr. Evans was the founder of Evanston, 
 now the site of the Northwestern University, and a 
 town of which I have made frequent mention in these 
 pages. He afterward moved to Denver, when that 
 city was in its infancy, was appointed governor of 
 Colorado Territory, and became interested in the rail- 
 road development of the far West with such success 
 that, by the sale of one of his roads to Jay Gould, he 
 became possessed of enormous wealth. 
 
 " Sit down here, Charley," Mr. Evans said, one day 
 in 1860, when he was on my train. He had been 
 figuring on some paper, and when I sat down he con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " Charley, I think that one of these days there will 
 be a railroad over the Kocky Mountains." 
 
 "It's possible, but hardly probable," I answered. 
 " The cost would be enormous, the engineering diffi- 
 culties next to insurmountable, and after you have 
 your road where will you get your business?" 
 
 "It will come in time, and that before many years," 
 was Mr. Evans' reply, and he proceeded to unfold to 
 me his ideas. 
 
 To those who have never been across the continent, 
 indeed, to those who did not follow the work step by 
 7 
 
98 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 step, it is impossible to realize the gigantic task of 
 constructing this great road. Nature was not the only 
 obstacle to be overcome. Public opinion and financial 
 pressure had to be fought. Eidicule was poured down 
 on the projectors, laborers mutinied and demanded 
 their pay in advance, and, so visionary was the scheme 
 considered, that bankers dared not subscribe to the 
 stock of the road lest they injure their credit. Even 
 so late as 1860, the scheme was declared as impos- 
 sible as a railroad to the North Pole. At length the 
 battle was fought; the Indians, the rocks and defiles 
 bathed its progress in human blood. For five years 
 the tramp of feet was heard over prairie, desert and 
 mountain, then the last spike was driven, the loco- 
 motive passed in triumph to the Golden Gate, and 
 there stopped its westward way. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IN WAK TIMES. 
 
 For seven years after I went on the old Chicago 
 and Milwaukee road, no great event happened to stir 
 the public mind. From time to time the slavery 
 agitation grew in force, until the nomination and 
 election of honest old Abe stirred the people on that 
 subject as nothing had done before, and my train 
 became the scene of many an angry debate. Party 
 feeling ran high, and among my passengers were 
 some of the best men I ever knew, who took opposite 
 views of the presidential candidates. Bitter words 
 were spoken, and men who had been friends and 
 jovial companions for years now looked at one another 
 askance, and groups who had smoked and played 
 cards together on the cars before the nomination were 
 now divided by common consent. 
 
 The inauguration of Mr. Lincoln passed without 
 unusual excitement, but there came a day in the next 
 
 month when men paused aghast as they read their 
 
 
 newspapers; when cheeks grew pale and hands 
 
 trembled. My train carried gloomy passengers that 
 
100 FORTY YEAES ON THE RAIL. 
 
 day, and well it might. Fort Sumter had been fired 
 upon ! It seemed hard to believe, for we Americans 
 have such firm faith in our institutions, that we can 
 scarcely credit a disappointment when it comes. Early 
 in the morning of April 12, 1861, the land batteries 
 began their fire on Fort Sumter, and on my afternoon 
 train discussion and excitement ran high. For thirty- 
 four hours the bombardment was kept up, and then 
 Major Anderson surrendered; our beloved flag trailed 
 in the dust. 
 
 What we said, how we felt, in those hours of anxiety, 
 can hardly be recalled now that the space of over a 
 quarter of a century separates us from those trying 
 times. But we all know that party discussions stopped, 
 and to a man loyalty to his country became the rule. 
 The stars and stripes waved from spire and balcony, 
 office and warehouse, mast and dwelling. As we 
 looked upon the folds of the dear old flag fluttering in 
 the breeze, we all knew it was the symbol of the 
 United North's determination to stand by the general 
 government forever. 
 
 Well do I remember Sunday, the 14th of April, 
 1861, the day following the surrender of Major 
 Anderson. It was one of those beautiful, cloudless 
 spring days that so rarely visit our Lake Michigan 
 climate at that season. In the mild April air floated 
 the " flag of the free," and on every side were signs 
 
IN WAR TIMES. , lj)J 
 
 that surely betokened ours was the ''Rome oJ the 
 brave." From early morning until late at night the 
 usually quiet Sunday streets were thronged with 
 eager, indignant, troubled people, all swayed by a 
 common feeling, and talking on one subject. The 
 telegraphic despatches of the evening before had 
 wrought every one up to a state of intense feeling, 
 and how it was faring with cur boys down at old 
 Sumter was the all-absorbing topic of conversation. 
 Governor Yates was in the city, and his headquarters 
 at the Tremont House were besieged by crowds of 
 people anxious to find out what Illinois would do in 
 the crisis. Even that early, the governor was tendered 
 the services of several Chicago military 'companies. 
 The excitement reached the pulpits of the churches, 
 and pastors did not hesitate to take a bold stand on 
 the question of the hour. 
 
 On Monday morning my train was filled to its 
 utmost capacity with people from all along the line 
 going to Chicago to get the latest news. Nor did 
 they all return to their homes that night, but many 
 stayed in the city to attend the various meetings held 
 to discuss the situation. That very day Governor 
 Yates called for six companies of militia for immediate 
 services. A grand rally was held at Metropolitan 
 Hall, but this not being large enough to hold the 
 throngs, another hall was opened and a double meeting 
 
02 F P^ Y -YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 convened. Speeches were made and resolutions passed 
 amid the wildest enthusiasm, which reached its height 
 when was sung the new song by George F. Root, 
 " The First Gun is Fired ! May God Protect the 
 Eight." 
 
 When on the day following the evacuation of Fort 
 Sumter, came President Lincoln's proclamation calling 
 for seventy-five thousand men to serve for three 
 months, the answer to the call was enthusiastic from 
 every corner of each free State. Recruiting offices 
 were full of men, ready and anxious to enroll their 
 names among the defenders of the stars and stripes, 
 and only fearful lest the required number would be 
 made up and their names left out. 
 
 We felt so strong and proud in those early days 
 that three months seemed long enough with our great 
 power to crush the strongest nation on earth, to say 
 nothing of what we considered a little uprising on our 
 southern borders. We little dreamed of the dreary 
 four years that lay before us; of the bloody battle- 
 fields and broken hearts. No prophet came to foretell 
 that of our brave "boys in blue" three hundred 
 thousand would be either killed in battle, or die of 
 disease in the field; that four hundred thousand of 
 those who went away so full of hope and courage 
 would return to us crippled, or disabled for life. It 
 was well for us that the enthusiasm of '61 was not to 
 
IN WAR TIMES. 103 
 
 be crushed at one blow by such knowledge as this. 
 Our troubles then, like all others in life, came one at 
 a time, and somehow all bore them. 
 
 In a few days the country was filled with volunteers. 
 My train began to carry the " blue coats," and there 
 were lively talks of the great deeds that were to be 
 done. When off duty we were always watching some 
 drill, or were at some favorite meeting-place discuss- 
 ing the situation. Those were more like picnic days 
 than anything else, until our first recruits had actually 
 started and we felt that serious work had begun. 
 
 The general cry was "On to Richmond," and, 
 when in July from Bull Run our troops fled panic 
 stricken to Washington, disappointment settled down 
 on us like a pall. -Then for the first time we realized 
 that a terrible war was upon us, and not a mere 
 holiday parade as most people had at first imagined. 
 North and South now set to work in earnest, and 
 President Lincoln called for half a million of troops. 
 
 It is not my purpose to follow our war step by 
 step, for that has been done by many worthier pens. 
 I shall only try to follow some of our railroad boys 
 through the struggle, and to give a little idea of what 
 an important part the locomotive took in the great 
 civil strife, aiding its progress and mitigating its 
 sufferings. 
 
 Bravery seems to belong to railroad men. Indeed, 
 
104 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 the service lias something about it which attracts 
 those who are daring. No sooner was the sound of 
 the drum heard in the land than hundreds of these 
 men sprang into the soldiers' ranks. I well remember 
 that one of the most fearless engineers on our old road 
 in those days was George Bentley. He was always 
 selected to fight snow or make a fast run, and was 
 what we termed a " game engineer." George L. 
 Dunlap was one of Bentley' s greatest admirers. At 
 the breaking out of the war, Bentley promptly raised 
 a company of railroad men and marched to the front. 
 His bold, fearless spirit put him in the front of every 
 battle, and while the war was yet young, the news 
 came that our brave old friend had given up his life 
 for his country. He was but one of many who gave 
 their lives that the country might be redeemed, but 
 his death cast a deep shadow over all railroad men. 
 The trusty sword that he had so gallantly wielded was 
 sent to his old friend, Mr. Dunlap, who still has it 
 among his most prized souvenirs of early days. 
 
 Illinois sent her full quota of railroad men to the 
 war. At first they enlisted in any regiment that was 
 being formed, but about sixteen months after the war 
 began, a more organized effort was made among them 
 and the so-called " Eailroad Regiment," or 89th 
 Illinois Volunteer Infantry, was recruited in the State, 
 being organized in Chicago under the direction and 
 
106 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 superintendence of the various railroad companies of 
 Illinois, in August, 1862, and, being composed chiefly 
 of employees of these lines. Company C was made 
 up of boys from the old Chicago and Milwaukee road, 
 and Henry L. Kowell was captain of the company. 
 
 The organization of the 89th was under the super- 
 vision of Kobert Forsyth, of the Illinois Central, and 
 W. D. Manchester, of the Lake Shore and Michigan 
 Southern road. Besides these the following were 
 active in behalf of the organization: Colonel C. G. 
 Hammond, of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy; 
 Joseph H. Morse, Pittsburg and Fort Wayne; A. 
 Bigelow, Michigan Central; Charles S. Tappan, 
 Chicago and North-Western ; W. L. St. John, Chicago 
 and Kock Island; S. C. Baldwin, Chicago and Mil- 
 waukee; C. C. Wheeler, Chicago, Alton and St. Louis; 
 E. Anthony, Galena and Chicago Union. 
 
 The following were the field and staff officers of 
 the 89th mustered into United States' service on Sep- 
 tember 4, 1862: Colonel, John Christopher, U. S. A. ; 
 Lieutenant-Colonel, Charles T. Hotchkiss; Major, 
 Duncan J. Hall; Surgeon, S. F. Vance; Assistant- 
 Surgeon, H. B. Tuttle;. Adjutant, Edward F. Bishop; 
 Quartermaster, Fred. L. Fake, and Chaplain, Rev. J. 
 H. Dill. 
 
 The 89th was commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Hotchkiss, Colonel Christopher never having joined 
 
IN WAR TIMES. 107 
 
 the regiment, of which he resigned the command soon 
 afterward, when the former officer became colonel. 
 C. T. Hotchkiss in 1853 had entered the service of the 
 old Galena and Chicago Union, when its western 
 terminus was at Kockford, Illinois, and afterward was 
 freight agent for the road in Chicago. 
 
 The 89th having received orders to report to Louis- 
 ville, Kentucky, as many of us as could get off duty 
 went to see them start. They left Camp E. H. Wil- 
 liams on September 4th, and arrived at Louisville 
 three days after. General Bragg had then invaded 
 Kentucky, his army being at Bardstown, while 'the 
 forces of Kirby Smith were at Lexington. The seces- 
 sion element at the time was jubilant, for things 
 seemed to be all in their favor, and the Union people 
 were trembling. Three days after the arrival of the 
 89th, Kirby Smith's forces got within seven miles of 
 Cincinnati, threatening the invasion of Ohio and 
 Indiana. The regiment, as a part of General Buell's 
 army, marched from Louisville and encamped on the 
 banks of the Kentucky river, opposite Frankfort, on 
 the evening of October 6th, arrived at Lawrenceburg 
 in two days, and drove a force of rebel cavalry from 
 the place, following them to " Dog Walk," where, the 
 next morning, it was attacked by a portion of Kirby 
 Smith's force. 
 
 On the llth of October the Second Division joined 
 
108 FORTY YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 in the pursuit of Bragg to Crab Orchard, then return- 
 ing to Bowling Green. A few days later the Second 
 Division moved toward. Nashville, where the 89th was 
 detached from the command, and for two weeks was 
 stationed at Tyre Springs, on the railroad route, then 
 rejoining its brigade near Nashville, where the Union 
 forces, now under General Kosecrans, occupied a forti- 
 fied position. 
 
 On the morning of December 26th, Rosecrans' 
 movement against Bragg' s forces at Murfreesboro' 
 was begun. The 89th, as a part of Johnson's division, 
 marched from Nashville, reaching Triune the next 
 day. In the morning of the 29th our troops advanced 
 toward Murfreesboro', and on the 30th the line of 
 battle was formed. The dawn of the morning of the 
 31st saw the terrible attack of the enemy on the right 
 flank, the brave defense of Kirk, his sad repulse, the 
 capture of the Union batteries and the general dis- 
 aster that befell McCook's corps. For two days longer 
 the battle went on, and the struggle at Murfreesboro' 
 or " Stone River," as it is sometimes called, cost our 
 side fourteen thousand men. 
 
 Without following the details of the battle, I shall 
 simply say that the 89th fought nobly, and was pro- 
 nounced by the brigade commander " by all odds the 
 best for its age in the service." Their total loss in 
 killed, wounded and missing, was one hundred and 
 
IN WAR TIMES. 109 
 
 forty-nine. Major Hall was captured and taken to 
 Fortress Monroe, where he remained until spring, 
 when he was returned to his regiment. The enlisted 
 men of the regiment presented Colonel Hotchkiss, 
 who had commanded them in the fight, with an 
 elegant sword as a token of their appreciation and 
 esteem. 
 
 The Army of the Cumberland lay at Murfreesboro' 
 until June of the next year. General Rosecrans 
 advanced towards Tullahoma on June 24th, and then 
 came the struggle at Liberty Gap. The following 
 account has been given of the close of the battle 
 and the part taken in it by the ''Railroad Regiment": 
 
 " The whole rebel left, heavily reinforced, with 
 supporting companies and a line of reserves, and sup- 
 ported also by a battery on the hill, charged across 
 the valley and up the hill, to within about twenty 
 yards of the position of the two Union regiments, 
 which quietly prepared to receive the shock. The 
 weight of the rebel onset was directed against the 
 center of the line, comprising the left of the 89th Illi- 
 nois and the right of the 32d Indiana. 
 
 " The regiments bravely held their position. The 
 supporting companies rallied to their assistance, and 
 for about twenty minutes a fierce and cruel contest 
 was waged, the rebels being determined to force the 
 Union line and occupy its position on the hill. That 
 
110 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 position was the key to the southern entrance of the 
 gap, and, once in the enemy's possession, the Federal 
 force could be driven back through the defile. To this 
 end repeated attacks were made on the position, but 
 each time the rebels were driven back with a heavy 
 loss. To support the Union regiments, Goodspeed's 
 and an Ohio battery were hurried forward. The 
 enemy also received reinforcements and added bat- 
 teries, and their attacks grew more and more furious 
 and stubborn. At this juncture, Captain Bruce H. 
 Kidder, of Company E, 89th Illinois, discovered two 
 rebel infantry companies moving toward the right of 
 his regiment, with the apparent intention of attacking 
 it on that flank. He immediately moved his com- 
 mand, under cover of the crest of the hill, still farther 
 to the right, and to a position of about two hundred 
 yards in advance of the main line of battle. There, 
 sheltered by a fence, he waited the approach of the 
 rebels until they were within forty yards of his 
 ambush, when he gave the order to fire. The ad- 
 vancing companies recoiled before the well-aimed and 
 fatal volleys, and fled wildly to the shelter of the 
 wooded hills behind them, leaving eight dead and 
 thirty wounded of their attacking party. 
 
 " As the ammunition of the two brave regiments, 
 so long and hotly engaged, began to fail, the 15th 
 Ohio was ordered to their support. With the aid of 
 
IN WAR TIMES. Ill 
 
 this regiment, one more determined effort of the 
 enemy to plant his flag on the hill was repulsed with 
 the most heroic bravery." 
 
 During the last struggle, George Sinclair, who was 
 one of the engineers on our road, was shot through 
 the left lung, the ball passing through his body and 
 out. He lived for twenty-two years afterward in his 
 usual good health. 
 
 A charge on the rebel position was finally made by 
 the reserve regiment of the brigade, and Miller's bri- 
 gade was ordered to the front to relieve the regiments 
 which had, since morning, borne the brunt of the 
 fight. As the 89th Illinois was withdrawing, the 
 enemy, thinking it a retreat, once more tried to seize 
 the position, but the railroad boys faced about, dashed 
 down the hill, and, with their last remaining cart- 
 ridges, charged the advancing "gray coats" and drove 
 them back across the field, the enemy being finally 
 driven from the hill which they had fortified, and re- 
 treating toward Bellbuckle. 
 
 Henry M. Cist, in his history of the Army of the 
 Cumberland, says the fighting at Liberty Gap was the 
 "most severe of the Tullahoma campaign," and among 
 the brave regiments that took part in that struggle, 
 none had a fairer, or more heroic record than the 
 89th Illinois. 
 
 The next great struggle in which the 89th was 
 
112 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 engaged was at Chickamauga Creek, where the battle 
 raged fiercely for two days, September 19 and 20. 
 The Union army, under General G. H. Thomas, fought 
 stubbornly and bravely, but, beaten at last, they with- 
 drew to Chattanooga. The railroad boys were among 
 the bravest of the brave, and were among the last of 
 the organized troops to leave the field. On the second 
 day of the battle, while supporting Goodspeed's bat- 
 tery, our boys were attacked by a force under L. E. 
 Polk. The regiment fought valiantly in support of 
 the battery, but, before it was safe, Lieutenant- Colonel 
 Duncan J. Hall, of Chicago, a young and brave officer, 
 had given his life in its defense, with his last breath 
 urging his regiment to stand true to their country and 
 their flag. 
 
 The 89th Illinois, in November, took part in the 
 attack on Mission Eidge, when the regiment formed a 
 part of Willich's brigade, which occupied the center 
 of the division. The story of the part our boys took 
 in this battle is thus told: 
 
 " In front of the lines was, first, a broken country, 
 covered with dense woods; then an abrupt rise of 
 ground, terminated by a narrow plateau, on which the 
 enemy had located his camp. Beyond this rose 
 Mission Eidge, its summit bristling with batteries, 
 and strengthened with breastworks. Lines of rifle- 
 pits were to be carried before its summit could be 
 
IN WAR TIMES. 113 
 
 gained. At the signal the troops swept forward, 
 advancing steadily through the woods, and across the 
 open field in front of the enemy's intrenchments at 
 the foot of the ridge, each command striving to first 
 reach the enemy. The first line was captured at the 
 point of the bayonet, and the routed rebels thrown 
 back on their reserves, killed or taken prisoners. 
 Hardly stopping to re-form, or for an order, the Union 
 troops grimly charged up the steep and rugged ascent, 
 and, without wavering or halting, at last, with loud 
 hurrahs, gained the crest and routed the enemy from 
 his last position. Willich's brigade charged up the 
 hill at a point where the ridge was formed like a horse- 
 shoe, the Federal troops occupying the interior. Bat- 
 teries to the right and left, and in front, poured upon 
 them a terrific fire, but it reached the top with the 
 foremost, and planted its colors on the crest. The 
 enemy held their ground at this point, until the 
 brigade was less than a dozen yards from their breast- 
 works, when they broke in wild confusion and fled in 
 panic down the opposite slope of the ridge. A portion 
 of the brigade pursued them for nearly a mile, cap- 
 turing and hauling back several pieces of artillery 
 which they were trying to carry off." 
 
 Among those of the 89th Illinois killed at Mission 
 Ridge was Captain Henry L. Eowell, of Company C, 
 a brave and gallant officer, who had been an engineer 
 8 
 
114 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 on the old Chicago and Milwaukee road, leaving its 
 service to enter the army. 
 
 In the Atlanta campaign the " Kailroad Kegiment " 
 formed part of the First Brigade (commanded by 
 Willich), Third Division (General Wood), Fourth 
 Army Corps (General Howard). They took part in 
 the struggles at Eocky Face Eidge, Eesaca, New 
 Hope Church, Pine Top Knob, and Kenesaw Moun- 
 tain. They then went into camp about four miles 
 from Atlanta, remaining about four weeks. 
 
 Leaving Atlanta on October 2nd with the Fourth 
 Corps, commanded by General Stanley, the 89th went 
 in pursuit of Hood, who was marching toward the 
 Tennessee Eiver. They participated in the engage- 
 ments at Columbia and Franklin on the way to 
 Nashville, which was reached on December 1st. In 
 the engagements before Nashville the 89th lost 
 thirty-nine in killed and wounded. 
 
 The railroad boys took part in the pursuit of Hood, 
 and then went to Huntsville, Alabama, where they 
 remained in camp until February, 1865, when, with 
 Colonel Hotchkiss still in command, they went back 
 to East Tennessee, remaining in that section until 
 Lee's surrender. The 89th then went to Nashville 
 where it was mustered out of United States' service 
 on June 10, 1865, and left the same day for Chicago. 
 The day after their arrival, the boys received a public 
 
IN WAR TIMES. 115 
 
 reception, with the 88th Illinois, by the Board of 
 Trade and the railroad companies of the city, when 
 Colonel Hotchkiss, in responding to a speech of con- 
 gratulation, said: 
 
 " The 89th left Chicago at the same time as the 
 88th, or three years ago, nine hundred strong. It has 
 baen recruited up to one thousand four hundred; that 
 is, that number have been enrolled under its banner. 
 It has lost by casualties very largely, and we return 
 now with three hundred .men, two hundred others 
 being in the field (transferred to the 59th Illinois). 
 The balance have been lost. Among the lost are one 
 lieutenant-colonel, seven captains, four lieutenants and 
 over seven hundred men. Our history is written on 
 the head-boards of rudely-made graves from Stone 
 Kiver to Atlanta. Such a record we feel proud of." 
 
 While the railroads were thus represented in the 
 field by some of their bravest and noblest men, in the 
 North the locomotive and its masters were keeping 
 the wheels of commerce moving, and were the power 
 behind the throne that sustained the great powers 
 that fought for union and liberty. Up and down sped 
 the "iron horse," carrying supplies of ammunition, 
 food, clothing, saddlery, horses, wagons, and all the 
 other necessaries of the march and the camp. The 
 mothers, sisters, wives and children of the boys who 
 had gone to the front were in the same need of food 
 
116 FORTY YEAES ON THE BAIL. 
 
 and clothes as before the war, and for them as for the 
 soldiers mills and looms were busy, and the railroads 
 transported the corn and pork of the West to the 
 Atlantic seaboard, bringing back the products of the 
 busy mills of the East. Back and forth went the 
 locomotive, feeding, clothing, aiding the man who 
 plowed at home to feed his brother who carried a 
 bayonet at the front. Without her manufactures, her 
 agriculture, and her commerce, the North could not 
 have won her victories, and without her locomotive 
 who shall say what her looms and her farmers would 
 have done? 
 
 The locomotive made a United North, bringing sec- 
 tions together in feeling that had never before felt the 
 need of one another. When the call rang from the 
 White House for more men to send to the front, the 
 locomotive was set in motion with redoubled energy 
 and carried forward flashing bayonets in the hands of 
 those who shouted as they dashed along the rail to 
 the scene of conflict, 
 
 "We are coming, Father Abraham, with six hundred thousand more." 
 
 The railroad carried to and fro letters bushels 
 upon bushels, tons upon tons of letters, bearing with 
 them words of comfort and cheer. It bore to the 
 needy soldier's side representatives of the Young 
 Men's Christian Association; it also sent special mes- 
 
IN WAR TIMES. 117 
 
 sengers of all religious sects with supplies of good 
 things not included in the regular army rations. It 
 carried the Sanitary Commission on errands of mercy, 
 and the scores of nurses who ministered to the sick 
 and dying. 
 
 The long and exhausting marches, which in olden 
 times had killed more men than fell in battle, were 
 done away with by the locomotive. Then, too, the 
 wounded were not left as of old to die on the field, for 
 the railroad enabled them to be taken to hospitals or 
 other resting places, where the best of care was given 
 them. It is said that the Sanitary Commission carried 
 two hundred and twenty-five thousand men from the 
 field of battle in hospital cars. They fitted up " rail- 
 way ambulances " with elastic beds and provided 
 them with as many conveniences and comforts as it 
 was possible to get for them. 
 
 It is impossible to tell how much the railroad 
 shortened the length of our great civil strife, by afford- 
 ing means for gathering and concentrating soldiers on 
 short notice, and by furnishing food for them at every 
 change of base as rapidly as commanding generals 
 desired to move their troops. The slow methods that 
 must have been resorted to had the locomotive not 
 existed, can be judged from the estimate that, con- 
 veyed by the common roads, five hundred horses and 
 about thirty days would be necessary to transport one 
 
118 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 day's supplies for an army of eighty-five thousand 
 men, four hundred miles, while all this can be done 
 by a single train of cars in forty hours. 
 
 Even a short account of the part played by the 
 railroad in the various campaigns of the late civil 
 strife would be beyond the scope of this volume. 
 Incidents of great interest might be given in connec- 
 tion with each one, but perhaps Sherman's famous 
 march from Chattanooga to the sea furnishes more 
 than any other single campaign, and I shall be for- 
 given if I dwell at length on that part of the war. 
 
 During his celebrated march, a single pair of rails 
 linked General Sherman to his base of supplies. 
 Although he had an army one hundred thousand 
 strong, it is said that not a man of that vast force for 
 even twenty-four hours went without ammunition, nor 
 were the troops without food a day at any time. A 
 construction corps of about two thousand men had 
 charge of the railroad repairs, and a large railroad 
 transportation department was organized to meet the 
 demands of the hour. The advancing column that 
 set out from Chattanooga needed an enormous quan- 
 tity of clothes, food and ammunition, and a single 
 line of track from Louisville was all that could be 
 depended on for furnishing these supplies. Sherman 
 then ordered all railroad cars reaching Louisville to 
 be loaded with supplies and sent to the front. Adju- 
 
IN WAR TIMES. 119 
 
 tant Hedley, who was in this great campaign to the 
 sea, thus gives an account of this railway service in 
 the pages of his " Marching through Georgia." 
 
 " Henceforth, trains on the ' United States Military 
 Railroad' were motley enough, and it may be said, 
 without exaggeration, that in many of them there were 
 not more than three cars belonging to any one road, 
 and nearly all came from north of the Ohio river. 
 
 "A few passenger cars were run as far south as 
 Nashville, but none beyond that point; an officer or 
 soldier seeking his command at the front was obliged, 
 on leaving Nashville, to find a place on the top of a 
 freight car, as a member of the armed guard which 
 accompanied each train. He was frequently fired at 
 by guerillas, from behind trees and hills, and often his 
 train was thrown from the track by some obstruction 
 or a displaced rail, and he was attacked at a great dis- 
 advantage by a considerable force of the enemy. But 
 this route, rough as it was, was one of pure delight 
 compared with the dirt-road assigned to most of those 
 returning from home or hospital. The latter were 
 organized into temporary companies or detachments, 
 and obliged to drive and guard beef herds, or wagon 
 trains, until they reached their destination. 
 
 "Notwithstanding the difficulty of securing rail- 
 road transportation, and the urgent necessity requiring 
 it entirely for military purposes, sanitary and Chris- 
 
120 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 tian commissions and volunteer philanthropists from 
 every State having a soldier in the field, sought the 
 freedom of the road, only to be denied by the lynx- 
 eyed Sherman. One of these well-meaning function- 
 aries complained to his governor that the great general 
 had treated his with discourtesy. The governor 
 appealed to Staiiton, S3cretary of War, who lectured 
 Sherman, whereupon the indignant general retorted in 
 this characteristic way: 'Even a single passenger is a 
 small matter, but he is two hundred pounds avoirdu- 
 pois, and his weight in bread and meat would feed 
 one hundred men for a day. For mercy's sake allow 
 us for the period of our brief campaign to have the 
 exclusive use of our single track of rail, every foot of 
 which we must guard, and every inch of which has 
 cost us a precious life.' 
 
 "And this slender artery of life, upon which de- 
 pended the very existence of a hundred thousand men, 
 and perhaps that of the nation itself, was soon to be 
 indefinitely extended, to keep pace with the army 
 pressing southward, every additional mile costing 
 more lives, adding to the risk of breakage by the 
 enemy, and diminishing the moving column to the 
 extent of the detachments left behind for its protec- 
 tion. Important bridges and strategic points were 
 guarded by veteran troops, posted in earthworks with 
 artillery; but for the greater part the defenses were 
 
IN WAR TIMES. 121 
 
 block-houses and stockades, garrisoned by ' short 
 term ' men enlisted for the purpose. It was a service 
 of vast importance, but monotonous and inglorious, 
 and the rudely painted sign displayed at each of these 
 minor posts, addressed to passing trains, ' Please 
 throw us a paper ! ' told a pathetic story of loneliness 
 and anxiety. In many cases these little garrisons 
 were fiercely attacked and made gallant and successful 
 resistance. The heroic defense of Allatoona, referred 
 to hereafter at length, is almost as famous as the 
 4 Charge of the Light Brigade ' it was certainly far 
 more momentous in its results. 
 
 " The Railway Construction and Eepair Corps, 
 made up of civilians, was an all-important ally. Large 
 detachments were stationed at suitable points and dis- 
 patched to each break in the road as soon as one 
 occurred. As a matter of fact, this corps was perpetu- 
 ally in motion. So thoroughly was it equipped, and 
 so zealously did it push the work, that the enemy 
 frequently heard the engine whistle at the front within 
 a few hours after they had inflicted damage which 
 they believed could not be repaired in a week. Dupli- 
 cates of bridges and important trestles were kept in 
 reserve to replace those destroyed, each timber being 
 numbered and fitted ready to put in place. Some of 
 the work was almost marvelous. But the grandest 
 achievement of the corps was the replacement of the 
 
122 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 bridges over the Chattahoochee, Etowah and Oostan- 
 aula, which had been destroyed by the retreating 
 enemy. These structures, being within the enemy's 
 lines, could not be duplicated from the storehouse, 
 and most of the timber had to be cut out of the forest 
 on either side of the streams. They were from six to 
 twelve hundred feet long, and from eighty to one hun- 
 dred feet high, yet they were repla'ced in two to five 
 days. The moral effect was marvelous. The Union 
 troops were led to believe that their communication 
 with home could never be interrupted, save for a few 
 hours at a time ; while the enemy was fully convinced 
 that Sherman and his men were all but omnipotent, 
 and that destructive measures were of little avail to 
 arrest their progress. Indeed, there was a story in 
 those days to the effect that Johnston had determined 
 to blow up an important railroad tunnel in order to 
 stop the invaders, whereupon one of his men remarked, 
 ' There isn't no use in that, 'cause Sherman carries 
 'long duplicates of all the tunnels ! ' 
 
 Adjutant Hedley has recorded several incidents in 
 regard to the railroad service in Sherman's campaign 
 which will be of interest to the readers of these pages. 
 He tells of a remarkable adventure which took place 
 at Big Shanty, a railroad station almost at the foot of 
 Kenesaw Mountain. In order to break the Atlanta 
 railway at this station to cut off the rebels' source of 
 
IN WAK TIMES. 123 
 
 supplies, General Mitchell sent twenty men to the 
 place. It was then a rebel camp in the interior of the 
 Confederacy, but the men were brave and thought not 
 of the danger. Forming a plan before they started, 
 they set out in disguise and by different roads, finally 
 getting to Big Shanty in safety. There they stole a 
 light freight train while its rebel crew was at dinner, 
 and started off toward Chattanooga, intending to burn 
 the bridges as they passed over them. Being closely 
 pursued by another train they could not stop to do 
 any work of destruction. Soon their wood and water 
 supply gave out, and the engine was fast becoming 
 useless, the brass journals having actually melted. 
 Driven to desperation, at last the brave fellows jumped 
 from the engine and started for the woods. It hap- 
 pened that a regimental muster was being held at the 
 place, and planters were there with bloodhounds and 
 horses, so the fugitives were hunted down and cap- 
 tured. Several were hanged by their pursuers, but 
 almost by a miracle the rest escaped. Six of the latter 
 were recaptured, but they were afterward exchanged 
 and went to Washington. There honor awaited them. 
 President Lincoln gave them a reception, conferred a 
 medal on each, had their arrearages of money given 
 them, and presented each with an extra one hundred 
 dollars and a furlough so that they might visit their 
 homes. 
 
124 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 Engineers were generally among the most daring 
 men in the service. They delighted in doing an 
 audacious act when opportunity was afforded them. 
 One day while the rebel forces held the heights of 
 Kenesaw, a daring Union engineer ran his locomotive 
 up the road just under the mountain, and drew down 
 upon him the fire from the enemy's batteries. Blowing 
 his whistle in defiance of the attack, he backed away 
 in safety, the federal troops giving him one round of 
 cheers after another, while the grand old Hills of 
 Georgia, as if in sympathy with their cause, gave 
 back the echoes, sound upon sound. 
 
 If the saying is true that we never appreciate the 
 blessings we have until they are taken from us, surely 
 Sherman's troops had a good opportunity to appreciate 
 the railroad "when their general resolved to cut the 
 last link that bound them to home, and to start off 
 into the heart of the enemy's country toward the sea. 
 They were at Big Shanty when the order came. For 
 three days the railroad worked to its utmost limit 
 bringing in supplies, carrying away all surplus 
 artillery, the sick and the wounded. After dark on 
 the 12th of November the last train bound for the 
 North rolled past Big Shanty. " It would have been 
 a windfall for the enemy," says Hedley. " It carried 
 many officers who had resigned, and soldiers whose 
 terms of service had expired. Large sums of money 
 
IN WAR TIMES. 
 
 125 
 
 - OLD COOK STREET DEPOT, 
 CHICAGO. Page 91. 
 
 were committed to them by 
 their comrades for delivery to families 
 or friends at home. One, a surgeon, 
 had not less than twelve thousand 
 dollars in his valise, enclosed in ordinary envelopes 
 endorsed with the amount and the name of the person 
 for whom it was intended. Fortunately, no accident 
 befell the train, but it was more than two months before 
 
126 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 this was known to the men who trusted so much to un- 
 certain fate. The passing by of this train awoke strange 
 sensations. Hearty cheers and ' God bless you,' came 
 from scores of the homeward bound, as hearty cheers 
 and fervent ' Good-byes ' from those left behind. 
 But the brave words of both belied their hearts. The 
 former gave an encouragement which was tinged with 
 a feeling of dread; the latter felt an anxiety their 
 shouts did not reveal. The departing train was the 
 sundering of the last link connecting them with 
 country and home." 
 
 The personal memoirs of General Grant furnish 
 numerous incidents which show the important part 
 played by the railroad in the civil war. Every few 
 pages narrate how the forces on both sides tried to 
 get or keep control of different lines. Frequent 
 mention is made of the rapidity with which our troops 
 repaired damages to tracks done by the enemy, and 
 built bridges as if by magic where similar structures 
 had been destroyed by the retreating foe. 
 
 In speaking of the destruction done by General 
 Sherman's troops on their way through Georgia to the 
 sea, General Grant says: 
 
 " The troops, both of the right and left wings, 
 made most of their advance along the line of railroads 
 which they destroyed. The method adopted to per- 
 form this work, was to burn and destroy all the 
 
IN WAR TIMES. 127 
 
 bridges and culverts, and for a long distance, at 
 places, to tear up the track and bend the rails. Sol- 
 diers to do this rapidly would form a line along one 
 side of the road with crowbars and poles, place these 
 under the rails and, hoisting all at once, turn over 
 many rods of road at one time. The ties would then 
 be placed in piles, and the rails, as they were loos- 
 ened, would be carried and put across these log heaps. 
 When a sufficient number of rails were placed upon a 
 pile of ties it would be set on fire. This would heat 
 the rails very much more in the middle, that being 
 over the main part of the fire, than at the ends, so 
 that they would naturally bend of their own weight ; 
 but the soldiers, to increase the damage, would take 
 tongs and, one or two men at each end of the rail, 
 carry it with force against the nearest tree and twist 
 it around, thus leaving rails forming bands to orna- 
 ment the forest trees of Georgia. All this work was 
 going on at the same time, there being a sufficient 
 number of men detailed for that purpose. Some 
 piled the logs and built the fire; some put the rails 
 upon the fire, while others would bend those that 
 were sufficiently heated, so that, by the time the last 
 bit of road was torn up that it was designed to destroy 
 at a certain place, the rails previously taken up were 
 already destroyed." 
 
 What this meant to the South can be appreciated 
 
128 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 when it is remembered that the whole mechanical 
 system of the country was an importation, and, having 
 no workshops of their own, when northern markets 
 were closed against them, railroads and everything 
 else that required machinery fell into decay, for 
 scarcely a cog-wheel could be manufactured by south- 
 ern artisans. 
 
 Enough has already been said to show of what 
 vital importance were the railroad and railroad men 
 to the successful conduct of the late war. Up and 
 down, backwards and forwards went the " iron horse " 
 on its unwearied way through the great struggle. 
 Mile by mile the locomotive kept pace with our 
 various armies on their march, keeping them refreshed 
 and strengthened with provisions, and well supplied 
 with ammunition, changing the base of supplies as 
 often as occasion demanded it. "Who shall say how 
 many more years of conflict would have been neces- 
 sary, and how infinitely greater would have been their 
 misery and woe had not Stephenson's great invention 
 been not only the soldiers' ally in battle, but the great 
 agent in carrying on the vocations of industry in the 
 North? 
 
CHAPTEE 
 
 FIGHTING THE ELEMENTS. 
 
 In these days of scientific railroading, trains take 
 no note of wind or weather. The thunder rolls, the 
 lightnings flash, hail, rain and snow dash in fury, but 
 passengers tuck themselves into their sleeping berths 
 or cushioned seats, and the engineer starts out into 
 the blackness of midnight. Quite a contrast is this 
 with the engineer of 1839, who took out a party from 
 Lexington, Kentucky, and when it began to snow, ran 
 his locomotive under a shed for shelter, saying he 
 would not go an inch further, as his track was so 
 " slick " that the train would be thrown off the rails. 
 
 In the infancy of railroading, owing to the extremes 
 of temperature and the heavy storms of our climate, 
 men suffered more and greater trials than they do 
 to-day. The cabless engines gave no shelter for 
 engineer or fireman. The old strap rails and even the 
 iron rails, laid as they were on the road-beds of 
 masonry or the badly constructed road-beds of a later 
 day, were constantly being broken by frosts or injured 
 by heavy rains. The poorly heated, poorly ventilated 
 9 129 
 
130 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 and otherwise inferior passenger coaches made travel 
 a great hardship in cold and inclement weather for 
 even the richest travelers, as money could not buy 
 what the progress of science nad not given to the 
 world. With all its discomforts and hardships, 
 however, primitive railroading was away in advance of 
 the stage-coaching that preceded it. 
 
 But with all the protection and conveniences of 
 modern times, which have made it so that passengers 
 know very little of the hardships of fighting the 
 elements in our climate, the train hands have many of 
 the trials that beset the same class of men in early 
 railroad days. Even with his cab for shelter, the 
 engineer suffers from the torrid heats of our summer, 
 especially when he crosses the long, treeless tracts of 
 prairie land, or the arid plains of our American desert. 
 In winter even the best protection yet conceived of is 
 inadequate to shelter him from the icy sleet, the 
 blinding snows, and the bitter winds of our western 
 blizzards. 
 
 English engines are constructed without cabs. The 
 Englishman pleads the mildness of his climate as an 
 excuse for not providing his engineers with the same 
 shelter that we give them. Leaving out of the ques- 
 tion the cruelty of shooting a man sixty miles an hour, 
 wholly unprotected, through a midnight storm, in 
 pitchy darkness, the fact still remains that no man 
 
FIGHTING THE ELEMENTS. 131 
 
 can use all of his powers to advantage if half his vital 
 force must be spent in keeping warm and resisting 
 the fury of the elements. No one holds a place which 
 calls for more keen thought, watchfulness and absorb- 
 ing attention than the engineer of a locomotive, and it 
 is simply a question of profit and loss whether he 
 shall stand up to his work in the open air, subjected 
 to all the extremes of temperature and other climatic 
 changes, or have a seat in a sheltering cab. 
 
 No one who has not ridden on an engine at night 
 can possibly understand how trying the task is When 
 once in a while an outsider tries the experiment, he 
 soon finds it too great a strain on his nerves, and is 
 glad to get back to the palace car to finish his jour- 
 ney. Darkness that has not even a star to relieve it is 
 awful enough, but when to it are added wind, snow, 
 hail, or pelting rain, the trainman's task is one that 
 no non-railroader can comprehend. 
 
 Just stop for a few moments to take in thought a 
 ride with an engineer on a night express in winter. A 
 railway superintendent, Joseph Taylor, in a book on 
 "The Modern Highway," thus describes his experi- 
 ences, and let us go with him: 
 
 " Carefully proceeding through the yard and fast 
 freight trains that would follow us, we soon left the 
 station lights behind and plowed into the darkness 
 and storm. John Dobbs was one of the oldest and 
 
132 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 best men on the road. It was his boast, and an honest 
 one, that during the sixteen years he had been driving 
 on that road he had not cost the company a dollar for 
 any negligence or mistake of his. His record was 
 clear. I sat and watched him from the opposite side 
 of the cab. He was rather tall, thin, and of a nervous 
 temperament; and although not even the smoke-stack 
 of the engine could be seen for the darkness and the 
 drifting snow, his piercing eye never wavered from its 
 insubstantial mark. One hand on the throttle, the 
 other on the reversing lever, he stood erect and firm, 
 intensely propelling his vision into the abysmal dark- 
 ness beyond. 
 
 "The 'Greyhound' began to feel her feet; her 
 speed increased with every stroke of the piston head. 
 Her machinery quivered with its force; she leaped 
 and reeled on each defective joint, but her iron mem- 
 bers held her firm. The fireman never ceased to cast 
 in the fuel, and the fierce flames darted ardently 
 through the brassy veins. Suddenly a scream from 
 the whistle, a quick movement on the throttle the 
 fireman rushed to the other side of the engine a 
 flash of light! We passed a station and a freight 
 train on the side track. More fuel into the fire, and 
 the ' Greyhound ' urged ahead, for now we had a 
 straight piece of track before us. The storm abated 
 and the sky cleared. We passed a few more stations 
 
FIGHTING THE ELEMENTS. 133 
 
 and freight trains, and at a tremendous speed bounded 
 from the level down a grade, the steepest on the road. 
 Steam was shut off, the fireman seized the wheel, the 
 whistle screamed, and we finally came to a stand right 
 under the hose of a water-tank. 
 
 " ' Engine driving 1 is trying work such weather as 
 
 o O / O 
 
 to-night, sir,' said Johnny, wiping the perspiration off 
 his face with his sleeve, 'when you can't see your 
 signal-lights, nor even your smoke-stack, and you 
 have to run like mad on a bad track to make up time 
 so as not to lose connection. I tell you, it makes a 
 man sweat if he's as cold as a lump of ice. You have 
 to go it blind. You can't see if the switches are right. 
 If trains you are to pass have got into a side track, 
 you can't make out anything till you are right into it. 
 It's trying work on the mind, sir, is driving an 
 engine.' ' 
 
 Out West travel is exposed to the greatest dangers. 
 Forest and prairie fires are even now to be dreaded. 
 Instances are recorded where trains at full speed rush 
 through a sea of flames, the cars catching fire in 
 several places, being also badly cracked and charred. 
 On the great plains tornadoes, water-spouts and hail- 
 storms cause great destruction. Once on the Kansas 
 Pacific railroad in a thunder-storm and water-spout 
 over six thousand feet of track were washed away, and 
 eight feet of water covered the prairie. A freight 
 
134 FOKTY YEAES ON THE BAIL. 
 
 train was lost at the time, and, though great efforts 
 were made to find it, not a trace of it has ever been 
 discovered. Many times car windows and shutters 
 have been broken by huge hail-stones. Cyclones are 
 a source of terror to all who have ever heard of the 
 terrible devastation caused by them. 
 
 Snow has always been one of the greatest obstacles 
 with which railroads must contend. No stronger 
 argument was urged against the construction of a 
 railway across the continent than the heavy snows. 
 " When you get blocked up hundreds of miles from 
 civilization, where will you get provisions to last till 
 the spring thaws let you out?" the objectors argued. 
 In the early days of the road all trains were sent out 
 in winter loaded with supplies of fuel and blankets, 
 and extra quantities of coal, wood and water, and 
 relief trains with provisions were always on hand. 
 Snowplows and snow- sheds solved the problem, and 
 storms are no longer the source of anxiety and suffer- 
 ing they were even a decade ago. 
 
 The evolution of the snow-plow is a subject of 
 great interest. The first ever constructed was made 
 for the old " Granite railroad " at Quincy, Massachu- 
 setts, which was thus described by a writer of that 
 day: "Even the late snow, which was deeper than has 
 before fallen for several years, has presented no 
 obstruction. On first passing, while the snow was 
 
FIGHTING THE ELEMENTS. 135 
 
 light, two pieces of plank were placed before the car, 
 meeting in an angle at the center, and drawn along 
 the rails, and by this means the snow was effectually 
 removed so as to render the traveling of the wheels as 
 free as in summer." On this railroad, it will be re- 
 membered, only horse-power was used. 
 
 Another effort to clear tracks, which was made 
 before my early days, was by fastening brooms to a 
 car-truck, which was pushed along by horses, the 
 locomotive not being brought out until the road was 
 pretty well cleared. 
 
 In 1836, the Utica and Schenectady railroad made 
 a successful snow-plow somewhat after the modern 
 fashion. Since that time inventive genius has been at 
 work constantly making improvements, until to-day a 
 snow-plow is quite a wonderful piece of machinery, 
 often weighing as much as fifty tons. 
 
 The huge plows of Western railroads, drawn by as 
 many as twelve or fourteen engines, show how man 
 with his brains can win the victory over seemingly 
 invincible matter. Nature rears before him a wall of 
 snow and ice that stretches away for miles in extent, 
 and raises its head as if in scorn of diminutive 
 humanity who gazes on the barrier. Nothing daunted, 
 the hand of man is raised against his foe, and he 
 sends his mighty agent forward to do his bidding. 
 On plunge half a score or more of locomotives with 
 
136 FORTY YEAES ON THE BAIL. 
 
 the snow-plow attached. The avalanche is torn into 
 atoms, as time and again its enemies make an attack, 
 until at last the conquering engines give a shriek of 
 victory and press in triumph over the broad path left 
 by the retreating snow. 
 
 In the days of old, with trains that would scarcely 
 weigh as much as one engine does now, a big snow- 
 storm was the greatest dread of railroad men. It 
 meant to be stalled in the country, miles away from 
 any house, perhaps, for two or three days at least, and 
 lucky indeed was the train that escaped so lightly as 
 that. 
 
 My first experience with Western storms was in 
 the winter of 1855, when, at Aurora, Illinois, Colonel 
 W. S. Johnson narrowly escaped death. It was with 
 great difficulty that he was revived from the stupor 
 caused by the extreme cold. Six men lost their lives 
 in that storm, within a few miles of the spot where 
 Colonel Johnson had such a narrow escape. For six- 
 teen days trains without number were buried under 
 the mountains of snow that blanketed the prairie, and 
 when I went down to see the last one pulled out I 
 found that the whole train, engine and all, was buried 
 entirely out of sight, so severe had been the storm. 
 
 Back in 1856, when I was running between Chicago 
 and Waukegan, a furious storm buried our tracks 
 twenty feet in places. However, we did not wish to 
 
FIGHTING THE ELEMENTS. 137 
 
 abandon the runs, and at the usual hour I started out 
 for Chicago with my train. Before we had gone five 
 miles we ran into a snow-bank near Rosehill and 
 stuck fast. There were only four little ten-ton engines 
 on the road at that time, and all of them were at once 
 set to work to force a path through the drifts. But 
 the little pigmies made no impression on the mass of 
 half frozen snow, and a heavier engine was borrowed 
 from another road. It came out with a force of men 
 and commenced operations just north of Nicker son's 
 woods. The men broke the icy crust off and then the 
 engine plowed into it full tilt. 
 
 There was about a mile of clear track for the 
 engine to start on, and when it came flying down the 
 level for its first bout with the snow, our superintend- 
 ent, Colonel Johnson, jumped on a fence, in his excite- 
 ment, "to see the fun." I warned him he was too 
 close for safety, but he laughed at the idea of danger, 
 and there he stayed, while I hastened to the center of 
 a big field. A moment later the engine went into the 
 snow bank with a rush, and almost at the same mo- 
 ment Mr. Johnson went off the fence in a back somer- 
 sault, landing in a drift ten feet away. He had been 
 struck by a section of the snow dashed aside by the 
 engine, but fortunately was not hurt. The engine 
 could make no progress against that enormous bulk of 
 snow, and nearly two hundred men were set to work 
 
138 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 shoveling it off the track. For over a week not a train 
 passed over the road. All business was effectually 
 blockaded until the men had slowly shoveled a clear 
 track for many a long mile. 
 
 During a tremendous snow-storm in the same 
 winter, my train stuck in a field near Eosehill. 
 Colonel Johnson sent a messenger to me saying I 
 could return to Waukegan, so I started to back up. 
 Two miles north of Eosehill we struck another drift 
 which we could not get through, so we plowed our 
 way back to our starting point. By that time night 
 was near at hand and the thermometer registered ten 
 degrees below zero. We had run out of wood for the 
 engine and had to abandon it. With the prospect of 
 a night of suffering before us, it became necessary to 
 send some one to Chicago to carry word of our danger, 
 so David Hillis, the engineer, Mr. Shedd, the fireman, 
 and I started to walk to the city. We trudged through 
 the deep drifts, struggling along for several miles 
 with the utmost difficulty. Finally I could stand it 
 no longer. Cold had brought a kind of lethargy upon 
 me. I was too tired to drag one foot after the other. 
 
 "I'm done for, boys," I exclaimed, insisting upon 
 lying down on one of the deep drifts to go to sleep. 
 
 "Brace up. Charley," Hillis cheerily returned. 
 " We're almost there." 
 
 Taking either arm, my comrades forced me to go 
 
FIGHTING THE ELEMENTS. 139 
 
 on, though sorely against my will, until at last we 
 stumbled upon a fence belonging to the residence of 
 P. F. W. Peck, in Lake View, one of Chicago's 
 suburban towns, and adjacent to the city. We stag- 
 gered across the wide grounds that surround the 
 mansion, struggling and fighting our way until we 
 reached the door. 
 
 It was nine o'clock by that time. I rang the bell 
 as vigorously as my weak hands could do it, and Mr. 
 Peck opened the door. At first he looked at us sus- 
 piciously. He was not inclined to receive us into his 
 home, but I explained to him our situation, after 
 which he kindly welcomed us within his hospitable 
 walls. 
 
 Routing up the servants, Mr. Peck soon had restor- 
 atives to warm our chilled and weary frames. Then 
 he had a lunch set out for us, and we ate with a relish 
 such as only men in our exhausted condition can do. 
 
 As soon as we were able to start, we left our place 
 of shelter and pushed on to Chicago. Just as the 
 clocks were tolling midnight we marched down the 
 city streets. I went to the Briggs House and called 
 Colonel Johnson, who promptly sent relief to the 
 beleaguered passengers. 
 
 All that winter we had a hard fight with snow, it 
 being a season of unusual severity. 
 
 No longer ago than 1SS2, while running a hotel 
 
140 FOETY YEAKS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 car between Council Bluffs and Chicago, I ran into a 
 snow-storm that tied us up until we were six days 
 making the run. The thermometer registered thirty 
 degrees below zero, and the wind was whistling a gale, 
 when we ran into the first snow bank and stuck fast, 
 nearly buried out of sight in the drifts that the wind 
 rapidly swept over us. We were about a mile from 
 Belle Plaine station, and before we had been there 
 long, our coal supply gave out. In the face of such a 
 blizzard it would have been as much as a man's life 
 was worth to venture away from the train, and with 
 the prospect of slowly freezing to death our situation 
 grew very desperate. The ladies bundled themselves 
 in their wraps and huddled about the stoves, talking 
 over the grave danger, with pale cheeks and tear-wet 
 eyes, but they bore up bravely and not one of them 
 weakened even in the face of what seemed almost 
 certain death. The men gathered in knots at the ends 
 of the cars and discussed some method of saving the 
 helpless women. 
 
 " Some one must face this storm and bring relief," 
 said one of the gentlemen. 
 
 "It is our only hope," answered a young man, and 
 then with his teeth set firm, he added: 
 
 "Gentlemen, I have no wife, no family depending 
 on me. If I should die in the attempt, I could best 
 of all this group be spared. I'll try it." 
 
FIGHTING THE ELEMENTS. 141 
 
 "Not much," replied the man who at first had 
 suggested it, but before he could say more, a faint 
 shout was heard, apparently from the depths of the 
 snow-drift. 
 
 There was a rush for the only door on the whole 
 train that could be opened and, as we crowded on the 
 platform, we saw, a few feet off, a sleigh loaded to the 
 guards with eatables and fuel. 
 
 The citizens of Belle Plaine had learned of our 
 situation and, knowing what dire straits we must be 
 in, had organized 'a relief corps and promptly sent it 
 to our rescue. The men in the sleigh shoveled a 
 narrow path to the train and a few minutes later a 
 roaring fire was blazing in the stoves and the passen- 
 gers were enjoying such a lunch as they had not 
 tasted for many a day. 
 
 With such a strain taken off our minds, we be- 
 came as jolly a group of people as ever made the 
 rafters ring. We remained there several days, and 
 after plowing our way out we ran into another 
 avalanche of snow near Boone, Iowa, where we were 
 detained for nearly two days more. By that time my 
 passengers were on the best of terms with each other, 
 and our detention was more of a pleasure than a 
 privation. I organized a male quartette, and our 
 singing proved a most satisfactory means of whiling 
 away many an hour. 
 
142 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 One of the crowd improvised some verses which we 
 sang to the familiar strains of "Good-bye, my lover, 
 good-bye." 
 
 I will give a few verses as an example of the 
 whole song, not so much for their merit, as for the 
 fun and good feeling they represent. 
 
 There was a train blocked in the snow, 
 
 Good-bye, my lover, good-bye ; 
 The passengers all were anxious to go, 
 
 Good-bye, my lover, good-bye. 
 
 Dinner was served upon the car, . 
 
 Good-bye, my lover, good-bye ; 
 We'd beef and chicken and polar b'ar, 
 
 Good-bye, my lover, good bye. 
 
 Captain George is an elegant man, 
 
 Good-bye, my lover, good-bye ; 
 To please his passengers he tries all he can, 
 
 Good-bye, my lover, good-bye. 
 
 If to Chicago you would get back, 
 
 Good-bye, my lover, good-bye; 
 Just shoulder your grip and start up the track, 
 
 Good-bye, my lover, good-bye. 
 
 And if it does not hail or rain, 
 
 Good-bye, my lover, good-bye ; 
 You're sure to get there ahead of the train, 
 
 Good-bye, my lover, good-bye. 
 
 With these and other songs we cheerily spent the 
 hours of waiting, and we had such a jolly good time 
 that there was always a party of Boone residents with 
 us on the train. 
 
 Not long after that I started from Chicago to 
 
FIGHTING THE ELEMENTS. 143 
 
 Oruaha in a pretty hard snow-storm, and among the 
 passengers were the Rev. David Millspaugh, an 
 Episcopal clergyman, of Omaha, and John Dillon, the 
 actor. Our train stuck in the snow out on the prairie 
 the next night, and the following day being Sunday, 
 we had religious services on board conducted by Mr. 
 Millspaugh, with the singing in charge of a very 
 good quartette hastily organized. 
 
 " Give us a rousing sermon," I said to Mr. Mills- 
 paugh. " It'll bring us help all the sooner." 
 
 Sure enough before the clergyman had fairly com- 
 menced his discourse, four engines came plowing 
 through the snow to pull us out. It was none too 
 soon either, for we had nearly exhausted our supply of 
 provisions. We were four days and nights in making 
 the trip. 
 
CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 NOTED PASSENGERS. 
 
 During my long association with the traveling 
 public, I have not only made warm personal friends, 
 but I have come in contact with some of the greatest 
 men of the nation. Men have been on my train whose 
 careers are identified with our country's progress and 
 whose lives are now embodied in its history. 
 
 In New England I thus met many of the great 
 men of the past generation. In those days the nation 
 looked to the Atlantic seaboard for her leaders in all 
 departments of thought and action. But I have seen 
 in my forty years of experience the Hues stretched 
 out, first by the Erie road to the outer boundaries of 
 New York State, then into the states along the Ohio 
 River, and finally to the Pacific Ocean, so that now 
 greatness knows no North, no South, no East, no 
 "West, but our nation looks to all sections of our 
 country for her leaders, and the railroad carries noted 
 passengers from every point of the compass. 
 
 I have lived to see several historical epochs, and 
 the representative* men of each have been many times 
 
 144 
 
146 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 my passengers. When I began railroading the 
 Mexican war was at its height; then followed the 
 slavery agitation, then our great civil strife, and then 
 the material progress when railroad extensions and 
 internal improvements seemed to absorb the whole 
 nation. The president who saw us through our strife 
 with Mexico traveled with me when he was in the 
 midst of the perplexities of that struggle. The 
 greatest orator of our country rode with me just two 
 years before his voice thundered out in the halls of 
 congress in defense of the fugitive slave law, in 1850. 
 The greatest editor, who gave his paper, the New 
 York " Tribune," to the cause of the down-trodden 
 black; the greatest preacher, who welcomed to the 
 pulpit of his church the negro who had just escaped 
 the lash of his master; the greatest president, who 
 with a stroke of his pen severed the chains of the 
 slave and set the bondsman and his children free 
 forever all these mighty men of the past have been 
 my passengers. 
 
 I have carried back and forth hundreds of men less 
 noted in a national sense, but men who were so strong 
 in their noble work, so willing to help on the right, 
 that though their fame is confined to the sections in 
 which they lived, their good work remains as an 
 enduring monument for all time. Many of them were 
 hissed at and scorned for their opinions at first, but 
 
NOTED PASSENGEES. 147 
 
 they lived long enough to see the cause which they 
 espoused vindicated and themselves appreciated and 
 revered wherever they were known. 
 
 Many of my passengers who lifted their voices in 
 the cause of liberty were among the foremost in pro- 
 moting railroad extensions and the progress of the 
 great "West. Stephen A. Douglas, whose voice was 
 raised in defense of free soil, and who bore the hoots 
 and jeers of an angry mob to proclaim his defense of 
 the Kansas-Nebraska bill, was the chief instrument in 
 obtaining the enormous land grant for Illinois, which 
 makes her to-day the banner state of railroads. On 
 July 1, 1862, President Lincoln signed the bill for 
 the Union Pacific railroad, and on the same day issued 
 a call for three hundred thousand men, the first of 
 which he felt was necessary for the future binding 
 together of the parts of our country; the latter of 
 which he knew would alone maintain the Union of our 
 fathers. The same editor, whose "Tribune" took up 
 the cause of slavery and the war, was among the fore- 
 most to urge the development of our prairie and our 
 mountain states, and to his advice, "Go West, young 
 man, go West," do those states to-day owe many of 
 their most enterprising and capable public men. 
 
 In 1848, Daniel Webster was a passenger on the 
 train on which I was running from Boston to Port- 
 land. I was only a verdant youth then, and I was 
 
148 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 struck with a kind of awe as I looked at the great 
 orator. His fine face and noble bearing made an im- 
 pression on me that I never shall forget. Mr. Webster 
 noticed me, my face probably showing the admiration 
 I so deeply felt. He asked me a few questions and 
 then said: 
 
 ''So you are going to be a railroad man, are you?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," I replied modestly. 
 
 " You will find it a life full of temptations, but you 
 can be a good man for all that. Some of the best 
 men in the world have had the most temptation. Do 
 your duty, be honest, and you will come out all right." 
 
 Many a time since that day I have thought with 
 pride that I thus conversed with the greatest orator 
 America has ever known. 
 
 Mr. Webster was then considered at the zenith of 
 his power. Three years before he had taken his seat 
 in the United States Senate as the successor of the 
 great Eufus Choate, of Massachusetts. In 1850, he 
 became secretary of state in President Fillmore's 
 cabinet. In 1852, he met with a serious carriage 
 accident, and his health failed, so he retired to his 
 home in Northfield, Massachusetts. Gradually his 
 giant frame gave way before illness and he died in 
 October, 1852, lamented by the whole nation. I can 
 well remember the sadness that was universally felt 
 on the day we heard of the great statesman's death. 
 
NOTED PASSENGERS. 149 
 
 James K. Polk was also on my train going to Port- 
 land, in 1847. I remember him as being of low 
 stature, with a mild, unassuming manner. His broad, 
 high forehead, well-set, dark eyes, and his firm, ex- 
 pressive mouth, marked him as a man endowed with 
 rare gifts. If I recollect aright, his clothes were 
 made loose, and, he being very thin, his dress thus 
 gave him an appearance of being larger than he really 
 was. Mr. Polk also spoke kindly to me, and wished 
 me success in my new life, for I had told him I had 
 tried my new vocation only a few months. 
 
 In those days passengers made a great deal of rail- 
 road men. There were no porters, nor Pullman 
 coaches either, so dignitaries had to ride in the ordi- 
 nary cars and put up with the same things as did 
 people less famous. 
 
 In the year I met Mr. Polk, he and his cabinet 
 were wrestling with the problem of the Mexican war. 
 In February, the Mexican commander-in-chief, Santa 
 Anna, had been defeated by General Taylor, at Buena 
 Vista, which battle secured to the Americans the 
 frontier of the Rio Grande. In March, after a furious 
 bombardment, the castle and city of Vera Cruz had 
 surrendered to our brave General Scott, who, after 
 a brilliant campaign, in September entered the city 
 of Mexico in triumph. Mr. Polk did not long sur- 
 vive the end of his presidential term, as three months 
 
150 FORTY YEARS ON TflE RAIL. 
 
 after his retirement, in 1849, he died at Nashville, 
 Tennessee. 
 
 In 1849, while baggage-master on the Boston and 
 Maine road, N my conductor, Elbridge Wood, once 
 called upon me to help him in putting an unruly 
 passenger off the car. A short time afterward the 
 latter brought suit against the road to recover dam- 
 ages. Our attorney was George Minot, and that of 
 the passenger was Benjamin F. Butler. The trial 
 came off at Lowell, Massachusetts. I was called as 
 a witness and gave my evidence in a straightforward 
 way, in accordance with the facts. When Mr. Butler 
 took me in hand he gave me a terrible going over. 
 The passenger had testified that I had punched him 
 in the face with an umbrella while in the act of put- 
 ting him off. This was a gross falsehood, but of 
 course his attorney made the most of it. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury," said Mr. Butler, " look 
 at that young man. Look at him, I say. To think 
 that so nice a looking youth should thrust an umbrella 
 into my client's face! Why, it's an awful thing. He 
 might have put an eye out and disfigured my client 
 for life." 
 
 More of the same kind of talk followed, and soon I 
 became so enraged at the slander being poured on my 
 defenceless head that I wanted to go right up to the 
 lawyer and give him a sound whipping. I made a 
 
NOTED PASSENGERS. 151 
 
 Vow then and there, however, that if I ever met him 
 again I would give him the greatest thrashing ever 
 known in history. 
 
 Thirty-five years passed before I once more met 
 Mr. Butler face to face. I was then running a Pull- 
 man car from Chicago to Minneapolis, and Mr. Butler 
 was on his way to St. Paul, being then engaged in his 
 political campaign of 1884. A gentleman who was 
 one of the general's party happened to be a friend of 
 mine, so I told him the story of the trial in 1849. 
 Taking me into the dining-car, where Mr. Butler and 
 his friends were waiting for dinner to be brought in, 
 my friend introduced me to the noted man. 
 
 "General," I said in a few moments, "I have had 
 a grudge against you for thirty-five years, and I just 
 thought I would come in and settle with you." 
 
 "A grudge? What is it, Captain?" asked the 
 General. 
 
 I then told the story of the trial. 
 
 " That was a good while ago, Captain, and you won 
 the case," said Mr. Butler, with a hearty laugh. " I 
 have grown pretty old since then, and you don't want 
 to thrash me now, do you?" 
 
 The whole party burst into a roar of laughter, in 
 which the presidential candidate heartily joined, finally 
 inviting me to take dinner with him and his friends. 
 
 " Now, Captain, seeing that we have made up and 
 
152 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 are good friends, I suppose you will vote for me," said 
 General Butler when we closed our pleasant inter- 
 view. 
 
 Jenny Lind, the " Swedish Nightingale," as she 
 was called, made a flying trip on my train to Portland 
 in 1851. An immense crowd of people were at the 
 depot in Boston to see her off, and all along the road 
 she was enthusiastically greeted. I well remember 
 when a gentleman of Boston paid six hundred and 
 twenty-five dollars for a single ticket to one of her 
 concerts. It was said that during her engagement 
 with P. T. Barnum the receipts were $712,151, of 
 which Jenny Lind received $176,675. Barnum's con- 
 tract was one thousand dollars a night for one hun- 
 dred and fifty nights, but he voluntarily gave the 
 great songstress more than he had promised her. 
 
 During her stay in America Jenny Lind was hon- 
 ored as much for her generous gifts for various chari- 
 table purposes and her worthy private character as 
 she was for her wonderful singing. At Boston she 
 was married to Otto Goldschmidt, a young pianist, 
 who had accompanied her during her American con- 
 certs. 
 
 The poet John G. Saxe was often on my train 
 while I ran on the Western Vermont road. He was 
 the most forgetful man I ever knew, and never got off 
 a train without leaving behind his cane, or hat, or 
 
NOTED PASSENGERS. 153 
 
 overshoes, or overcoat, not being conscious of the fact 
 until reminded of it. One day the poet was thus 
 greeted by a friend as he was going up the street: 
 
 "Hello, where's your hat?" 
 
 'On my head, of course," replied Mr. Saxe, put- 
 ting up his hand to find out. 
 
 " That's strange. Where can it be?" then said 
 the puzzled poet. 
 
 "Where have you come from?" inquired his 
 friend. 
 
 " From the train." 
 
 "Then I guess your hat is still aboard." 
 
 Sure enough, when the truth became known, the 
 hat had been found by a brakeman in the car, and so 
 it got safely back to its owner. 
 
 Notorious people travel as much as others. Of 
 these I remember Jim Fisk frequently rode with me 
 on the Western Vermont railroad, in the days when 
 he was peddling dress goods through the State. He 
 had the finest peddler's wagon I ever saw and drove a 
 fine span of horses with silver mounted harnesses. He 
 sold silk goods chiefly, and bought them in New York, 
 making a good deal of money. My wife bought a silk 
 dress from him which is in existence to-day, proving 
 to be all he recommended. Fisk afterward became a 
 member of the New York Stock Exchange and then 
 connected himself with Gould and the Erie railroad. 
 
154 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 The story of his later life is well known to all and 
 does not need repetition here. 
 
 During mj long term of railroading in the West, I 
 met a great many well-known people. Stephen A. 
 Douglas rode with me on his way to Milwaukee in 
 1869, when engaged in his presidential campaign. At 
 Waukegan the senator got out of the train and made a 
 little speech, a great crowd having gathered there to 
 see him. Just as Mr. Douglas alighted from the car 
 an Irish woman, who was somewhat under the influ- 
 ence of liquor, rushed up to him and exclaimed: 
 
 " Oh, Mr. McDooglas, sure'n you're a great man 
 and a sthrong man, an' we'll all vote for yez. Ye' 11 be 
 the nixt prisidint sure, an' I want to kiss yez." 
 
 It seems that this admirer of the Little Giant 
 thought he was an Irishman, and that his name must 
 have the prefix which she gave it. 
 
 In the same year, Abraham Lincoln went to Wau- 
 kegan with me during his presidential campaign. He 
 was to make a speech at Dickenson's hall, at Wauke- 
 gan, and I was on the platform as one of the com- 
 mittee. Hon. H. W. Blodgett, now a judge in the 
 United States district court of Chicago, introduced 
 Mr. Lincoln to the audience, and the orator had just 
 started his speech when the cry of fire was raised. E. 
 P. Ferry, then a prominent lawyer, and who has since 
 been governor of Washington Territory, was also on 
 
NOTED PASSENGERS. 155 
 
 the platform, and the instant the alarm was heard he 
 jumped up and shouted: 
 
 "Keep your seats! Keep your seats! This is a 
 Democratic dodge to break up the meeting." 
 
 This prompt action of Mr. Ferry probably pre- 
 vented the death of many persons which excitement 
 and a rush might have caused. His words produced 
 such a calm that the crowd, which packed the hall to 
 overflowing, departed quietly and quickly. The fire 
 proved to be in a building not far away, and Mr. Lin- 
 coln was not able, on account of the excitement, to 
 deliver his speech that night. 
 
 Back in those old days there was a fund of remin- 
 iscence rich Avith interest, now a generation has passed 
 since the scenes were enacted. I remember well the 
 day when honest old Abe was nominated for the presi- 
 dency. I was in the throng at the Wigwam and joined 
 in the procession that was formed amid the wildest 
 enthusiasm. We carried rails on our shoulders in 
 memory of the day when our great leader was only a 
 humble rail-splitter. 
 
 The stirring scenes of Mr. Lincoln's campaign and 
 of the civil strife that took place during his life are so 
 familiar that I will not dwell upon them here. The 
 day of his assassination I can never forget. Just as 
 my train arrived at Evanston, twelve miles from Chi- 
 cago, the news of the terrible deed reached us by wire. 
 
156 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 Quite a number of prominent Republicans were in the 
 train. In the smoking-car was a jolly company, 
 among whom were Judge Blodgett, and Mr. Ferry, 
 whom I have just mentioned. Somebody's good joke 
 had made the whole party burst into a roar of merri- 
 ment, when I entered. 
 
 " Gentlemen," I said, with the message crushed in 
 my hand, and my voice husky with deep emotion, 
 "gentlemen, President Lincoln is dead!" 
 
 A silence fell upon the company, and many a cheek 
 grew deathly pale, while words seemed denied them 
 all. 
 
 "President Lincoln dead!" gasped Mr. Ferry at 
 length. "No, no; it can't be true; it can't be true." 
 
 In answer I spread the message before them, and 
 as some one read it aloud there was not a dry eye in 
 the car. A pall seemed to settle down upon us for the 
 rest of the trip, and a sadder lot of passengers never 
 stepped from a train. 
 
 Horace Greeley was once one of my passengers on 
 the Waukegan run. We had orders to make ten minutes' 
 extra time that day, and the Michigan Southern road 
 held their train for New York fifteen minutes, so as to 
 enable Mr. Greeley to make connections for the East 
 in Chicago. When we arrived at the depot, the hack- 
 men, who were a rough set of men in those days, sup- 
 posed the distinguished man to be some verdant 
 
NOTED PASSENGERS. 157 
 
 countryman, his odd dress, big umbrella, his hat on 
 the back of his head giving that impression. Several 
 hackmen rushed up and seized the editor. 
 
 " Here, old seed, get into this hack," said one 
 driver, pulling Mr. Greeley to his conveyance. 
 
 We rescued our noted passenger from the clutches 
 of his pursuers and placed him in the elegant carriage 
 which was awaiting him. 
 
 "Look here," I said to the hackman, "that's 
 Horace Greeley." 
 
 "Jingo! Is that so?" exclaimed the man, for 
 once in his life taken aback, and the crowd laughed at 
 his expense. 
 
 Mr. Greeley seemed to enjoy the joke as well as 
 the rest, and departed amid the cheers of all the by- 
 standers. 
 
 There are few men who, in a private capacity, have 
 had so much influence in this country as Horace 
 Greeley, and few men have been so well known by all 
 classes of society. The old white hat, the flowing 
 gray hair and beard were as famous in his day as was 
 the man himself. Never did a man live who was more 
 generous. Indeed, Mr. Greeley 's generosity was 
 carried to a fault, but we who knew him can never 
 forget how the great editor took up the cause of the 
 oppressed and the suffering everywhere. He was a 
 humanitarian in the largest sense of the word. 
 
158 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 Hon. William Cody, better known as " Buffalo 
 Bill," was once a passenger on my car " Cataract, 1 ' 
 running to Jersey City. He had the exclusive use of 
 the drawing-room, and ordered all his meals in the 
 car. He liked good living, and good drinking, too, 
 for that matter, as his b*lls on my car can show. How 
 Mr. Cody has received his many titles is not generally 
 known to the public, so I shall quote the following 
 from a letter recently received by me from North 
 Platte, Nebraska: 
 
 " When William Cody was a small boy he lived 
 hereabouts, while white men were few and Indians 
 were plenty. One day when " Bill " was fooling with 
 a little gun he shot an Indian, and thereby won a 
 boyish fame and brought his name before the people 
 at a youthful age. When grown to manhood he 
 received the contract of furnishing buffalo meat to 
 the builders of the Kansas Pacific railroad, at the rate 
 of one hundred dollars a month for his services. He 
 had a number of hair-breadth escapes in this business, 
 but was fully compensated for all his dangers and 
 hardships by winning the title " Buffalo Bill/' This, 
 together with the chance acquaintance of a novel 
 writer of the tomahawk and scalping-knife species, 
 brought him fame, and his election to the Nebraska 
 legislature, when there didn't happen to be anybody 
 else to send, added " Honorable " to the name already 
 
NOTED PASSENGERS. 159 
 
 so well known. The " Colonel " was thrust upon him 
 by the governor of Nebraska before Mr. Cody went to 
 Europe, so that he might make a still greater sensa- 
 tion than even his show." 
 
 Henry Ward Beecher took a trip with me on a 
 Pullman car while I was running from Chicago to 
 New York, and I was impressed with his intellectual 
 ability. He bore upon him the marks of greatness. 
 The most striking characteristic of Mr. Beecher was 
 his vitality. No one could see his big frame, the 
 strong limbs and deep chest, the broad shoulders and 
 great head, the loose hair thrown back from the full 
 forehead, the large eyes, and the heavy lips, without 
 feeling that he was a man of power. He was capable 
 not only of bursts of energy, but of long and very 
 exhausting work. 
 
 Mr. Beecher prided himself on having made the 
 pulpit of his church a free platform. From it spoke 
 the heroes of the old anti-slavery fight, with Wendell 
 Phillips in the van. There it was that they raised 
 money to buy the liberty of slaves. It re-echoed with a 
 welcome to Kossuth and with appeals for the oppressed 
 at home and abroad. From it came calls for charity, 
 for education, for freedom, and for humanity. I can 
 well remember when Mr. Beecher startled the country 
 with his bold denunciations of slavery. He began his 
 work in this line at a very early day. In 1840, Boston 
 
160 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 railways built a mean, plain car for negroes to ride in. 
 It was called the " Jim Crow " car. Charles Lenox 
 Redmond, an educated colored man, entertained in 
 England by persons of rank and fame, and commis- 
 sioned by O'Connell and Father Mathew to bear 
 greetings from liberty in England to liberty in 
 America, found, on going from Boston to Salem, his 
 home, that he must ride in the " Jim Crow " car. 
 In such a time Mr. Beecher began to ask the colored 
 men to sit on the platform in his church, and thus 
 the " negro car " was met in equity by the refuge of 
 the greatest pulpit the world possessed. 
 
 Mr. Beecher never missed a train, but he always 
 calculated to the second, having a watch that was as 
 true as the needle to the pole. Major Pond thus gives 
 a characteristic sketch of how Mr. Beecher planned to 
 get to the depot. 
 
 " I went to where Mrs. Beecher stood looking out 
 of the window. There in the middle of the street, 
 with a lot of children around him, was Mr. Beecher in 
 his cardigan jacket, a silk hat on his head, and a stick 
 in his mouth, with strings attached, as children make 
 bits, and he was prancing up and down and back and 
 forth, and playing horse with the youngsters. You 
 would have died laughing seeing that sight. 
 
 " ' Henry,' exclaimed Mrs. Beecher, ' what on earth 
 are you doing? Do you know what a sight you are? 
 You will lose the train.' 
 
NOTED PASSENGERS. 161 
 
 "Mr. Beecher stopped, drew out his watch he 
 always carried a first-class time-keeper and, replying 
 as he put it back, 
 
 " 'No I won't; I've got two minutes yet,' off he gal- 
 loped with the children at his heels in high glse. He 
 used up the two minutes, and we just caught the ferry 
 in time." 
 
 Mr. Beecher was a good traveler. He was always 
 in the best of spirits on a train, and was as approach- 
 able while on the rail as anywhere on earth. I doubt 
 whether there ever was a public man with a similar 
 taxing position, and subject as he was all his life to 
 the most searching criticism from people and news- 
 papers, who was so well known for his amiability and 
 approachableness. A Chicago reporter thus tells of 
 an interview with the great preacher : 
 
 " ' Mr. Beecher, I am a reporter, and I ' 
 
 " ' Ah,' he said, ' I thought you were a very good 
 looking young man.' 
 
 " ' Now, Mr. Beecher,' I said in breathless haste, 
 ' I desire to roll the wheel of conversation around the 
 axle-tree of your understanding for a while.' 
 
 " ' I see,' he replied earnestly. ' You wish to unwind 
 the thread of thought from the spool of my mind.' 
 
 " Having got started in this sort of fun, it was 
 several minutes before I could switch him off on the 
 track of business." 
 11 
 
162 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 Many years ago I had the honor of the presence of 
 James G. Blaine among my passengers. I gave him 
 a hearty shake of the hands and said that I felt 
 acquainted with him, as I had made my wedding trip 
 to Augusta in 1849, and this, it seemed to me ought 
 to make us a sort of cousins. Mr. Blaine took the 
 joke in the spirit I meant it, and then I remarked that 
 I hoped some day to see him president of the United 
 States. This was long before the Maine statesman 
 was ever spoken of for that office, or had won his 
 noted title of the " Plumed Knight," but my admira- 
 tion for the man led me to make the remark. 
 
 Royalty has had only one representative among 
 my passengers, and that was the Grand Duke 
 Alexis of Hussia, who was making a tour of the United 
 States. He was on his way to Milwaukee when he 
 took his trip with me. 
 
 Dr. Vincent, the founder of the Chautauqua Liter- 
 ary and Scientific Circle, was often a passenger with 
 me on my Waukegan train. He was then in the 
 Garrett Biblical Institute at Evanston. Few men 
 have done so great a work as Dr. Vincent. His pen, 
 his voice, and his example, are always on the side of 
 religion and education, and his influence extends 
 around the world. 
 
 Among the greatest reformers of the day is 
 Frances Willard, of Evanston. When a little girl, 
 
NOTED PASSENGERS. 163 
 
 and during many succeeding years, she often was on 
 my train going to and from Chicago, and her father, 
 mother and brother, I knew well. Before beginning 
 her temperance work, Miss Willard was dean of the 
 Women's College at Evanston. It is as president of 
 the Women's Christian Temperance Union that she is 
 best known to the world, and her work in this great 
 cause has already marked her as one of the most 
 eminent women of the age. 
 
CHAPTEK IX. 
 
 RAILROAD MEN. 
 
 Forty years of experience have shown me that no 
 finer men are to be found in the country than those 
 connected with the railroads. They are men of more 
 than average ability, more than average courage and 
 strength. It is only natural that it should be so. 
 Large salaries in the higher walks of the profession, 
 and the opportunity for advancement held out even to 
 the beginner, attract talent. The work itself has 
 about it that which draws those who have in them any 
 executive ability and the power to handle men. Rail- 
 roads have been the foster-mother of genuine success, 
 able and glad to reward by promotion capabilities 
 adequate to the calls of the hour. 
 
 There is a certain independence and self-respect 
 that comes with having the care of other lives. 
 Knowing that amid the darkness of night, the storms 
 of winter, and the war of the elements, hundreds of 
 human beings are to be kept in safety, carries with it 
 a peculiar dignity and sense of responsibility that is 
 felt all along the line, from the man at the switch, the 
 
 164 
 
THE FARMER'S ARGUMENT. 
 
 Page 229 
 
166 FORTY YEA.RS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 man on the locomotive, the man who controls the 
 train, up through all the various ranks of superin- 
 tendents and officers, even to the highest. 
 
 The railroad is a potent ally of temperance. No 
 employee, whether of the staff, or of the operating 
 departments, is long retained in service if intemperate. 
 A writer has said, " The locomotive has turned our 
 coachmen into heroes. The exchange of leather rib- 
 bons for steel has made out of the beer-soaked Tony 
 Weller a brave captain; and if the man in the blue 
 overalls and black cap is not as jolly and communica- 
 tive as his predecessor in corduroy and gloves, he is 
 at least sober, faithful and intelligent." 
 
 Kailroading is rapidly advancing into the dignity 
 of a profession, requiring a knowledge of many 
 branches of science, training of a high order, and 
 careful application as well as unselfish devotion to 
 public and corporate interests. It has thus not only 
 brought into being, by the persistent activity of traffic, 
 an army of enterprising, pushing ousiness men the 
 world would never otherwise have known, but it has 
 taught order, punctuality, and business promptness to 
 all classes of society, and is rapidly raising the world 
 to a higher plane. 
 
 The feeling of good fellowship that exists through- 
 out the different circles of railroad men has often been 
 noticed by outsiders. This is largely due to the fact 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 167 
 
 that the higher officers have come up from the rank 
 and file, and so understand the feelings and hardships 
 of their subordinates. There is an approachableness 
 about even the highest that takes away from them the 
 hated taskmaster element which is found in other 
 employments. All " the boys " on the road will swear 
 by their superintendents, and no matter what their 
 grievance may be, they feel that if they can only lay 
 it before the " old man " it will be properly dealt 
 with. As a rule the latter is sincerely and heartily in 
 sympathy with his subordinates, and in my experience 
 I have met with many superintendents who were fairly 
 worshiped by their men. Such a man was H. C. 
 Atkins, or " Hub " Atkins, as he was generally known. 
 When the sad news of his death was flashed along the 
 wires there was not a dry eye on the road. While he 
 was on the Milwaukee and St. Paul, the men, from 
 section hands to conductor, would have gone to the 
 ends of the earth to do him a good turn. 
 
 Very few people who are not in the service under- 
 stand the vast amount of responsibility and hard work 
 that falls to the lot of the operating officials of a great 
 railroad. People have become so accustomed to the 
 smooth work clone by the various lines of the country 
 that they never stop to think how it is done. To 
 realize it let the reader follow the course of even the 
 poorest emigrant from Europe to our Pacific slope. 
 
168 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 From the heart of the Alps, perhaps, he starts on his 
 way, and, from the time he takes the train nearest his 
 home to the hour he touches the soil of California, 
 though not able to speak any language but his own, 
 ignorant of others' customs, without friends on his way, 
 beset at nearly every step by sharpers, the traveler is 
 cared for and his numerous boxes and bundles pro- 
 tected. Day after day, after leaving Castle Garden, 
 he goes speeding over this great continent. Engineers 
 and conductors change. He passes from the care of one 
 corporation to another, until he has been in charge of 
 perhaps half a dozen companies. He eats and sleeps 
 at the usual intervals, all the time passing over broad 
 plains, huge viaducts and iron bridges, going through 
 hills and mountains, or climbing over their sides; 
 bounding by canons and cataracts, and traversing 
 great stretches of uninhabited and desolate country. 
 It all seems a very simple matter to the traveler, and 
 even his wealthy brother, who has been luxuriating in 
 a Pullman car during those many days of travel, does 
 not realize what it all means to the brains that are 
 back of this wonderful system of transportation. How 
 much money has been put into this vast line of rails ; 
 how much lost in making/ experiments before the feat 
 was accomplished; how many millionaires have been 
 ruined in the enterprise; how many hazardous risks 
 surveyors and contractors have run to provide the 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 169 
 
 highway; and how many lives of common laborers 
 and others have been sacrificed in the work of con- 
 struction; how complicated is the system that is 
 necessary to carry on affairs when an army of em- 
 ployees are needed for its successful administration; 
 how wide awake are engineers and firemen, conductors 
 and brakemen during the long nights on the journey 
 of all this the traveler does not think, nor does he 
 care. 
 
 For another illustration of the cares of railroad 
 men let the outsider consider the questions that pre- 
 sent themselves to ticket agents. Think of the scores 
 of different kinds of tickets that must be made to 
 meet the needs of as many kinds of passenger traffic. 
 " The wants of the countless suburban towns that dot 
 the line are manifold," says one who seems to know 
 all about it; "tickets must be supplied for every 
 emergency, from the amiable gentleman who occupies 
 his villa and buys a ticket for a good round year, 
 down to his envious neighbor with lean and hungry 
 parse who wants a discount out of all proportion to 
 the amount he pays. The excursionist, and the 
 Sunday school picnic, the patriotic citizen, the humble 
 politician, the subdued and somber dominie with large 
 family and small means, the jovial circus man, the 
 autocrat, the first-class passenger, the real estate man, 
 the employee, the funeral man, the demure youth of 
 
170 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 fifteen traveling as a lad of ten, the man who is con- 
 tent to occupy the second-class carriage, the young 
 miss going to the adjoining town to school, the 
 ferocious drover, the friendly drummer, the man who 
 won't buy a ticket, the man who wants a pass, the 
 mendicant, the impostor, all require separate pro- 
 vision and each receives the exact consideration his or 
 her particular claim demands." 
 
 The responsible working organization of each of 
 the various railroad companies of the nation consists 
 of the president, vice-president, treasurer and secre- 
 tary, who are annually elected by the board of direc- 
 tors. These men are possessed of absolute power over 
 the destinies of the company's servants, and though 
 the power is rarely if ever exercised, their wishes are 
 law. They are generally men of wisdom and justice, 
 kindly and considerate of subordinates, moved by no 
 jealousies, and controlled by no cliques, being of such 
 broad views as to make these feelings almost impossi- 
 ble. Frequently knowing but little if anything of the 
 practical operations of a railroad, rarely seen by its 
 army of operatives, they are yet thought of with awe 
 and are spoken of with profound respect, while many 
 quaint and pleasant things concerning them are found 
 floating around among the subordinate officers and 
 employees. 
 
 The peculiarities of many of our railroad presi- 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 171 
 
 dents and vice-presidents have become legendary upon 
 the roads they once controlled, and in the lulls of 
 business, even the obscurest employee delights in 
 recounting the legends that have come down to him of 
 the great officers of the company who have passed 
 away. Dozens of such stories are in existence about 
 Erastus Corning, who was well known for his eccen- 
 tricity, and who had queer ways of dealing with his 
 men. 
 
 Mr. Corning was a lame man and not very prepos- 
 sessing in his looks. He stood one day on the plat- 
 form and when he was about ready to step into the 
 cars, a conductor who did not know him shouted, 
 
 kk Come, hurry up, old man; don't be all day about 
 it, the train can't wait." 
 
 "Do you know the gentleman you ordered on 
 board?" asked a passenger of the conductor, when 
 the latter went through the car to take up the tickets. 
 
 " No, and I don't want to know him." 
 
 " It may ba worth your while to make his 
 acquaintance. He is your boss, the president of the 
 road, and he'll take your head off." 
 
 The conductor gave a low whistle, and looked as if 
 he wo aid think about it. He put a bold face on the 
 matter, sought out the president and offered an 
 apology. 
 
 " Personally I care nothing about it," said Mr, 
 
172 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 Corning. " If you had been so rude to any one else, I 
 would have discharged you on the spot. You saw I 
 was lame, and that I moved with 'difficulty. The fact 
 that you did not know who I was does not alter the 
 complexion of your act. I'll keep no one in my 
 employ who is uncivil to travelers." 
 
 Among the many stories afloat about Mr. Corning, 
 the following is a good one. 
 
 One day a conductor in search of a position went 
 to Mr. Corning to apply for one. 
 
 " Have you a diamond ring ?" asked the president 
 of the Central. 
 
 " No, sir," replied the conductor. 
 
 "A fast horse?" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " A house and lot, or money in the bank?" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Then you can't have a place on my road. You're 
 sure to want all these things, and I don't want you to 
 make them out of us," said Mr. Corning, closing the 
 interview abruptly. 
 
 The operating officers who have in trust the prac- 
 tical working of /a road consist of the general 
 manager, chief of engineers, solicitor, general agents, 
 superintendents, auditor and local treasurer. In early 
 days the chief of these officers was known as superin- 
 tendent, then the title was changed to general superin- 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 173 
 
 tendent, and finally the present name was adopted. 
 As can be readily seen, this officer must understand 
 thoroughly every department and every branch of the 
 service. He is always a man of quick intuitions, is 
 resolute in action, self-possessed, active and energetic. 
 He is made of the material from which great military 
 leaders are formed. These same characteristics must 
 also distinguish all the officers who are the aides-de- 
 camp of the general manager. 
 
 The operating officials of our great trunk lines 
 have, in a majority of cases, come from the lower 
 departments of the service, having been advanced as 
 fast as their merits showed them worthy of promotion. 
 Mention has several times been made in these pages 
 of such progress. A striking illustration may be 
 found in the life of A. N. Towne, superintendent of 
 the Central Pacific railroad. He was a Massachusetts 
 boy, and singularly enough, on the day of his birth 
 there arrived in New York the first locomotive engine 
 ever used in the United States the " Stourbridge 
 Lion." Mr. Towne began his railroad experience as a 
 brakeman on a freight train. He was bright, capable 
 and winning. A telegram one day stopped his train, 
 and he was ordered to the general office. He was 
 pointed to a chair and told to take a seat at the desk. 
 
 " I know nothing about clerking," said the young 
 man. 
 
174 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 " You can do as you are told, I suppose," was the 
 response from his superior officer. 
 
 He did as he was bid and did it well. Time went 
 on and the Central Pacific was in search of a superin- 
 tendent. The man whose career was thus so success- 
 fully begun was recommended for the place. 
 
 The liberal offer nearly took his breath away: 
 " Twelve thousand a year to begin with ! " Success 
 attended him in his new career, as elsewhere, and 
 to-day he has few if any equals in his work. 
 
 Of his methods, Mr. Towne says: "I systematize 
 my work. It never drives me. I keep ahead of it. 
 Every day's duties are finished before I leave my 
 office. I use all persons alike, whatever may be their 
 positions on the road. In business I consider every 
 one entitled to courteous treatment. When I deny a 
 favor I try to do it as though it was painful to 
 myself." 
 
 Most of my life has been spent on trains, and nat- 
 urally it is with the men in the train service that I 
 have had most to do, and with whom I am best 
 acquainted. Of all these the engineer is least to be 
 envied. To a non-railroading person who stops to 
 think of this position, the responsibility seems almost 
 unendurable. Ever on the alert, never relaxing his 
 watchfulness while on the run, with the constant 
 jolting and the exposure to the weather, the engineer 
 
KAILEOAD MEN. 175 
 
 passes his life under a most terrible strain on his 
 nervous system. Hundreds of times have I pitied the 
 poor fellows when I have watched them pull out of a 
 station in a blinding storm and heavy fog, or a terrific 
 gale, not knowing at what moment a broken rail, a 
 weak bridge, or a misplaced switch, might land them 
 in eternity. 
 
 Engineers must not only look out for themselves, 
 but for the hundreds who are back of them in the 
 passenger coaches, and they never can be certain that 
 the switchmen, on whose fidelity they are forced to 
 depend, have done their duty, until the crossings or 
 the sidings have been safely passed. Only a step lies 
 between them and death, and it is the step of one 
 traveling thirty or forty miles an hour. 
 
 These men have not only physical courage, but a 
 moral stamina and mental quickness beyond the aver- 
 age man, and all of these qualities are put to the test 
 from the moment they mount the foot-board to the 
 time they run their engines into the round-house. 
 Brave almost to recklessness, an engineer never deserts 
 his post in time of danger, and many a hero's life has 
 been sacrificed that the train might be saved. He 
 must be a man of iron will, able to withstand pressure 
 and outside influence in the hour of danger. He is 
 often thought to construe instructions of caution too 
 rigidly and passengers frequently grumble about delay- 
 
176 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 ing trains, as it seems to them, needlessly. But the 
 engineer knows best, and never yields to what he feels 
 are unreasonable demands, when his better judgment 
 points in a different direction. 
 
 One of the most interesting features of the great 
 railway exhibition held in Chicago in 1883 was an 
 ovation to the veteran locomotive engineers of the 
 country who were present in large numbers. A pro- 
 cession was formed of the veterans, including Horace 
 Allen, the pioneer locomotive builder, and they all 
 marched to the annex of the exposition building to see 
 the " John Bull," the oldest locomotive capable of 
 steaming. A circle was then formed with the engi- 
 neers in the center, and while the band played " Auld 
 Lang Syne," the "John Bull" built in 1831, steamed 
 up the central track. Three cheers were given for the 
 engine. John Sexton was then introduced as the 
 engineer of this old locomotive. Mr. Sexton made a 
 speech in which he said : 
 
 "I have railroaded for forty years; have tried to do 
 my duty and obeyed orders. The 'John Bull 'was 
 built in 1831. By the time she was in condition for 
 service, on the Camden and Amboy railroad, there 
 were five other engines built, she having been used as 
 a pattern. In 1833 she was placed on the road and 
 was in use up to 1866. I firad the engine in 1843 and 
 1844, and in 1847 I ran her, and have been running 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 177 
 
 her at different times since. I have run engines with 
 from four to ten wheels, and in all my service have 
 not lost four weeks' time." 
 
 George Hollingsworth of the Rogers Locomotive 
 Works was then called on for a speech and said : "I 
 have been an engineer since 1836; have run an engine 
 ever since that time and have never had an accident 
 on the road, and never injured a person in all my life; 
 not even a dog, that I know of." 
 
 Mr. McAllister of the Shaw Locomotive Works, 
 then spoke, saying he had once run the " John Bull." 
 
 George Davidson, the old engineer of the " Samp- 
 son," being called on for a speech, said he was born in 
 England, had helped to build the *' Sampson," had 
 come to this country with her, and had run her con- 
 tinually until August, 1882. 
 
 Among the other veterans present were Mr. Osborne 
 of the Pennsylvania Company, who began railroading 
 in 1852* Mr. Marsh of the Rhode Island Locomotive 
 Works; Mr. Pickerell of the Pittsburg Locomotive 
 Works, who began as engineer in 1848; and Mr. 
 Pasho of the Brooks Locomotive Works. 
 
 Many speeches were made, eulogistic and historical, 
 and all through the evening the engineers were made 
 to feel themselves the heroes of the occasion. 
 
 From the ranks of baggagemen and brakemen have 
 come some of the most successful railroad officials of 
 12 
 
178 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 to-day. These places are important in themselves, 
 and not less so because they are stepping-stones to 
 the higher positions. In my early experience, hand- 
 ling baggage was not so hard as it is to-day. Then 
 people had fewer worldly possessions and so could not 
 fill the enormous trunks that are now the bane of a bag- 
 gageman's life. Commercial travelers with their heavy 
 sample trunks did not exist as in these later times, 
 while traveling theatrical and opera companies, that 
 now are so numerous and which always go heavily 
 laden with costume trunks, were then few and far 
 between. 
 
 The introduction of the Westinghouse air-brake 
 has greatly decreased the duties of brakemen, this 
 contrivance being operated as one brake by the fire- 
 man or engineer. But the brakeman's duties are 
 numerous, and on freight trains they are arduous and 
 dangerous, on account of the coupling which is still 
 done by hand. 
 
 Of all railroad men those I know best are the con- 
 ductors, and I have found them a whole-souled, brave 
 set of fellows. Generous and open-hearted to a fault, 
 their best nature never gets soured at the foibles of 
 the race, though to no one else are the weaknesses of 
 humanity shown so bluntly and obtrusively. To an 
 outsider their work seems easy, yet from the moment 
 a conductor takes a train till he lands it in safety at 
 
EAILKOAD MEN. 179 
 
 its journey's end, there is a constant and by no means 
 light strain on his mind. His time-table must be kept 
 constantly in view, with no forgetting of a single one 
 of its figures, and he must not only see that his own 
 train is exactly on schedule time, but he must know 
 just where every train coming in an opposite direction 
 will meet and pass him. All matters, all differences 
 are referred to him, and with quick wits, keen eyes, 
 and above all a cool head, he must be prepared to in- 
 stantly meet every emergency that may 'arise, with a 
 practical knowledge to help him with expedients when 
 accidents occur, a ready judgment and nerve to act 
 promptly in time of danger. There are occasions 
 when a little mistake, a moment's hesitation might 
 cost a score of lives, and no one realizes that fact more 
 than the conductor himself. He must see that no 
 time is lost at stations, must have an eye to the condi- 
 tion of the track, the trestles, bridges, culverts, and 
 embankments ; must be watchful of the cleanliness of 
 each car, the examination of couplings and bell-ropes ; 
 must be on the alert for signals from his engineer and 
 from stations on his route; must have at his fingers' 
 ends all the intricate system of rules and regulations 
 issued by his superiors. 
 
 Not only must a conductor be a good judge of 
 human nature, but he must have tact to deal with 
 every class, being quick yet courteous, firm and yet 
 
180 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 agreeable. He must discriminate between the one 
 who is really unfortunate in losing his ticket and 
 money and the one who feigns misfortune so as to get 
 a free ride, being always on the alert for the thousand 
 and one ways in which passengers try to defraud him. 
 yet so careful of appearances that he does not seem to 
 be suspicious. He must keep his passengers con- 
 stantly in mind, so as to see that they get out at their 
 own stations, and must be sure to take up all tickets, 
 often going through a long train thirty or more times 
 on each trip to make sure of the tickets of those who 
 get on at way stations. He must get off at every 
 stopping place, no matter what the hour of night or 
 the state of wind and weather, to see passengers off and 
 signal the train to proceed, being always on time and 
 never in undue haste. He must have plenty of leisure 
 to give courteous replies to all questions, no matter 
 how foolish they are, and must keep an accurate 
 account and give an accurate report of tickets and 
 fares collected. In fact, he is the captain of the 
 train and the requirements of his position are legion. 
 Unruly, noisy, unreasonable, drunken passengers 
 are a source of constant annoyance, and often of 
 danger. I have known of many cases where conduc- 
 tors have been shot at by such passengers, or have 
 been attacked in other ways. Nearly forty years 
 ago I was baggagemaster of a train that pulled 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 181 
 
 out of Boston ill charge of Elbridge Wood, con- 
 ductor, and David Pasho, engineer, and George 
 Hunt, fireman. Three roughs got on board at the 
 station, and when Mr. Wood went through the train 
 they refused to pay fare. The men laughed in his 
 face and dared him to try to put them off. Mr. Wood 
 called the engineer, fireman and myself to his assist- 
 ance, and after a rough and tumble fight we threw the 
 fellows off the train. In the struggle half a dozen 
 seats were wrenched from their places and kicked to 
 pieces, and several windows were broken. One of the 
 roughs fastened his teeth on Pasho' s middle finger, as 
 they fell from the train together, and would not let go 
 till he had been choked black in the face. Even to 
 this day such scenes are not uncommon, though far 
 less frequent than when railroads were new. Pasho is 
 still living and is in the mammoth locomotive works 
 of H. G. Brooks, at Dunkirk, New York. George 
 Hunt has been a Chicago policeman for thirty-two 
 years and had one of his arms shot off in the great 
 beer riot of 1855. 
 
 Considering the work they do and the responsi- 
 bility of their duties, conductors are far from being 
 well paid. Many ofiice men with no responsibility get 
 twice as much as they do. Honesty ought to be 
 encouraged by liberal pay. Put a premium on hon- 
 esty and the service will be a thousand times better 
 
182 FOKTY YEAKS ON THE KAIL. 
 
 for it. By paying them more give the men a chance 
 to save a little of their earnings. Many a poor fellow 
 has faithfully worked for a railroad during long years, 
 on poor pay, only to be dropped from the roll when 
 old or disabled. 
 
 Many sad instances are recorded where employees 
 who have given long and faithful service to their 
 roads, have been left in old age to the charity of the 
 world. I remember a conductor, George Richardson, 
 one of nature's noblemen, who lost the use of his legs 
 after many years of active duty with his company. 
 The poor fellow was dropped from the pay-roll, and 
 when a brother conductor broke the news to him 
 Richardson cried like a child. For sixteen years he 
 has been in the same helpless condition, and only the 
 kindness of friends has kept him from starvation. 
 From his company he received nothing, but the atten- 
 tion and care of others have given him less cause to 
 grieve over " man's inhumanity to man." 
 
 Conductors often turn an honest penny by carrying 
 on a little commission business and thus accommoda- 
 ting the patrons of their roads. Those who run through 
 rural districts get farmers' products and sell them to 
 city buyers at a good profit. In the early days of my 
 running the Waukegan train, I made quite a good 
 deal of money by purchasing goods in Chicago for my 
 passengers in Waukegan. I took all this trade to 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 183 
 
 Potter Palmer, wlio is now known the world over for 
 his magnificent hotel and great wealth, but who in the 
 days of which I speak had just started in the dry 
 goods business, having founded the firm which to-day 
 is the vast house of Marshall Field & Co. Mr. Palmer 
 never forgot me at Christmas time, and he always 
 gave me my own goods at cost. 
 
 Conductors have many good times among them- 
 selves, and when off duty are fond of getting together 
 to while away an hour or so in social converse. When I 
 began railroading in Chicago, the cigar store of John 
 C. Partridge was a favorite rendezvous. Often a 
 dozen or more of us would congregate there to smoke 
 or tell stories. Not only was the proprietor heartily 
 liked among the boys, but equally as popular were his 
 two clerks, William Best and Henry Russell. When 
 Mr. Partridge died, we remained faithful to the old 
 stand, and in the course of time, we saw the business 
 grow into the largest in the entire West. The rise of 
 these two young clerks strikingly illustrates the spirit 
 and methods of Chicago. They began life when I 
 first knew them on salaries of five dollars a week; 
 they are now among the richest men of the Garden 
 City. Mr. Best has acquired political prominence. 
 He was at one time collector of the South Town of 
 Chicago, and has declined office once or twice because 
 of the pressure of private business. He is now South 
 
184 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 Park commissioner, and president of the Douglas 
 Club. 
 
 Another favorite gathering place of the conductors 
 of long ago was the Tremont house, then kept by 
 David and George Gage. Very popular among us all 
 was the clerk, Sam Turner, who is at present at the 
 Grand Pacific and is known over the whole country for 
 his wonderful memory. John B. Drake took the Tre- 
 mont House over twenty years ago. Mr. Drake is now 
 a millionaire, and is at the head of the Grand Pacific 
 Hotel, which he has made one of the most noted hotels 
 in the United States. 
 
 Chicago has become so vast a city that it would be 
 impossible to speak of similar meeting places of the 
 railroad men of the present. After all, I doubt 
 whether these busier days ever witnessed the jolly 
 times we used to have in " Auld Lang Syne." 
 
 The conductor usually draws about him those of 
 his passengers who are at all sociably inclined, and 
 thus is started many a friendship that grows closer 
 with each passing year. In the old days this was 
 more often the case than at present. People were 
 not so busy then, and they had more leisure for culti- 
 vating old friends and making new ones. Then, too, 
 railroading being in its infancy, few men were regular 
 travelers, and nearly everybody depended on the con- 
 ductors for advice and instructions. Many would 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 
 
 185 
 
 IIOXIE AND THE TRAMP 
 
 Page 231. 
 
 make it a point to wait 
 for their particular con- 
 ductor's train, and in a 
 thousand and one ways 
 showed their kindly feel- 
 ings. 
 
 My own experience has 
 been so full of pleasant 
 associations on the rail- 
 road, and so many favors 
 received, that a narration 
 
 of them would alone fill a book, but I shall single out 
 
 a few as examples of the many. 
 
186 FORTY YEAKS ON THE KAIL. 
 
 In 1849, after I had been running the Beading 
 train on the Boston and Maine road for two years, a 
 group of my passengers called ine into the depot at 
 Boston, and before I had time to think what was 
 coming, they put a silver watch into my hand, saying 
 it was a little token of their regard for me. This was 
 my first present, and coming without the slightest 
 warning, I could only stammer out a few syllables in 
 lieu of thanks. My watch was a valuable one for 
 those days, and I carried it for ten years when it was 
 stolen from my house by burglars. In a very short 
 time my friends heard of my loss, and a few days 
 later, as I stepped into the depot in Chicago, Rev. P. 
 Judson presented me with an elegant gold watch as a 
 testimonial of regard from the passengers of the 
 Waukegan train. The watch was valued at two hun- 
 dred and twenty-five dollars. For over a quarter of 
 a century that time-piece has been my constant com- 
 panion, and no better reminder could I desire of the 
 friends and scenes of a generation ago. 
 
 Five years later, in 1864, W. S. Johnston, of Lake 
 Forest, who had been a daily passenger with me for 
 years, beckoned me into the -Wells street depot, Chi- 
 cago. At one end of the room stood a table covered 
 with packages, and about it were gathered a number 
 of friends. Mr. Johnston then presented me, in be- 
 half of numerous passengers, a beautiful silver service 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 187 
 
 of nine pieces. The service was on exhibition at the 
 office of the "Evening Journal" in Chicago, for several 
 days, hundreds of people stopping to admire it. Two 
 years later I was given an exquisite set of pie forks, 
 of English make, and valued at seventy-five dollars. 
 Since then friends have from time to time given me 
 hosts of souvenirs, until I have curiosities and odds 
 and ends enough to more than fill a cabinet. 
 
 The newsboys on the trains deserve a place in this 
 chapter. Forty years ago they were not known, books 
 and papers not being sold on the road, but at the ter- 
 minal stations. No fruits, nuts, or candies were sold 
 either, and passengers had to carry such things with 
 them or do without any. 
 
 The newsboy now is considered a necessity, and 
 while he is often abused by the traveling public he 
 has his mission. In my day I have met many faithful 
 and enterprising boys doing such work, and I have 
 seen them get on steadily in this world's affairs. On 
 my train twenty-five years ago was a little round-faced 
 lad, who was the youngest newsboy I ever saw. When 
 the road was let to a news agent, we all had a good 
 word to say for little Johnny, and he was kept in the 
 service. For a long time he ran on our line, and 
 being saving and prudent, he finally got money 
 enough to start a news stand in Waukegan, and now 
 John Ponsonby is well known as doing a successful 
 business in the book trade. 
 
188 FOKTY YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 The newsboy is often among the bravest on the 
 train. I can remember when my train was snowed in 
 during one of the terrible storms of which I have 
 already spoken, Tom Smith, who has been a newsboy 
 on the Chicago and North- Western railway for over 
 twenty years, volunteered to make his way through 
 the blinding storm and the deep drifts to the nearest 
 town. He knew he would be risking his life, but he 
 was willing to take the risk, and was about to do so 
 when help came. 
 
 Railroad men have formed not only a new class or 
 element in society, but records of their lives and 
 characters have become a part of the literature of the 
 day. Poets and novelists have .taken them up, glad of 
 a new field in which to work, and they have found in 
 this field characters rich in all that can make a novel 
 or a poem of interest to the reader. 
 
 Heroes are to be found in every grade of the ser- 
 vice, and the engineer who gives his life for his train, 
 the man at the switch, the man who faces the robber 
 in the baggage-car, the conductor who springs from 
 his train to save a child playing on an adjoining track 
 whom a coming locomotive is threatening to dash 
 upon, all furnish examples of true heroism as bright 
 and worthy of imitation as are to be found in the 
 records of Greece or Eome. " The Man at the Switch " 
 is a poem by which audiences have often been deeply 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 189 
 
 moved, and hundreds of similar verses have been 
 written. 
 
 Among the higher ranks in the railroad service the 
 energy, perseverance, and success of officials have fur- 
 nished subjects for moralists and writers of fiction. 
 The world is never tired of reading about Stephenson's 
 early struggles, and not a book on noted men is with- 
 out an account of some one who has come up from a 
 humble position on the railroad to the ranks of great 
 men. 
 
 Dickens gave his genius to railroad subjects. We 
 all know how he speaks of the railroad in the " Uncom- 
 mercial Traveler." In " Mugby Junction" he takes 
 up many phases of the same subject, dealing with each 
 in his humorous style. 
 
 Newspapers every day abound in items and editor- 
 ials about this great power. They give columns to 
 reports of the meetings of railroad men, to accounts of 
 their travels, sayings and prophecies, and fill their 
 funny columns with stories about queer happenings 
 on the rail, or the witty sayings of railway employees. 
 
 The market reports are affected by a word or a 
 whisper of some railroad magnate, while bankers and 
 great stock exchanges often care much more to know 
 the course of a railroad king through the country than 
 they do that of the official head of the nation or the 
 greatest statesman in the world. When such a king 
 
190 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 looks at a piece of land, examines a bridge, takes a 
 trip up a river, or entertains certain guests at dinner, 
 newspapers tell all about it in long columns of matter 
 with big headlines. Magazines give their best efforts 
 to biographies of such men, and employ the finest 
 artistic effects in producing fine pictures of their 
 homes, their various possessions and the places associ- 
 ated with their early history. 
 
 It is no wonder that, when all the world is thus 
 poring over such literature, Young America should 
 have seized on a new idea of greatness and an ambition 
 that did not exist when I was a boy. When the 
 school inspector makes his rounds nowadays and puts 
 the same questions to the small boy that school in- 
 spectors did long ago, he may do so with the following 
 result : 
 
 " Johnny, you must be a good boy and study hard, 
 for you want to be president of the United States 
 some day, don't you?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " What ! Not want to be like Washington ? " 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Well, Johnny, what do you want to be?" 
 
 " A railroad president, sir." 
 
 Johnny has read many books and papers. His 
 mind has been filled with accounts of magnificent 
 homes, country residences, yacht trips around the 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 191 
 
 world, and private cars fit for an emperor's use. He 
 thinks 110 man could wish to be greater than the rail- 
 road king who travels in a palace, and whenever he 
 moves every subordinate on the entire line of thou- 
 sands of miles must obey his wish. Johnny knows 
 that the head of the nation cannot at all times travel 
 with a special engine and a special time-table, while 
 with all other trains kept out of the way, this special 
 car travels a hundred miles in a hundred minutes. He 
 had read that a railroad president can and does do all 
 this. Thus the literature of the day is molding the 
 minds of the rising generation. 
 
 More stories are afloat in books and newspapers 
 about engineers than any other class of railroad men. 
 There is a fascination about the position that seizes 
 upon the public mind, and even the greatest writers 
 have taken it up and have woven about it many a 
 story that strikes deep into the heart because of its 
 pathos, its wit, or the inspiration born of the bravery 
 and self-sacrifice it portrays. The engineer at Mugby 
 Junction is well known. This is how the great English 
 novelist puts his thoughts into words: 
 
 " I never was nervous on an engine but once. I 
 never think of my own life. You go in for staking 
 that when you begin, and you get used to the risk. 
 I never think of the passengers either. The thoughts 
 of an engine-driver never goes behind his engine. If 
 
192 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 lie keeps his engine all right, the coaches behind will 
 be all right, as far as the driver is concerned. But 
 once I did think of the passengers. My little boy, 
 Bill, was among them that morning. He was a poor 
 little cripple fellow that we all loved more nor the 
 others, because he was a cripple, and so quiet and 
 wise like. He was going down to his aunt in the 
 country, who was to take care of him for a while. We 
 thought the country air would do him good. I did 
 think there were lives behind me that morning; at 
 least, I thought hard of one little life that was in 
 my hands. There were twenty coaches on; my little 
 Bill seemed to me to be in every one of 'em. My 
 hand trembled as I turned on the steam. I felt my 
 heart thumping as I drew close to the pointsman's box: 
 as we neared the Junction I was all in a cold sweat. 
 At the end of the first fifty miles I was nearly eleven 
 minutes behind time. 'What's the matter with you 
 this morning ? ' my stoker said. ' Did you have a 
 drop too much last night?' 'Don't speak to me, 
 Fred,' I said, ' till we get to Peterborough ; and keep 
 a sharp look-out; there's a good fellow.' I never was 
 so thankful in my life as when I shut off steam to 
 enter the station of Peterborough. Little Bill's aunt 
 was waiting for him, and I saw her lift him out of the 
 carriage. I called out to her to bring him to me, and 
 I took him upon the engine and kissed him ah, 
 
RAILROAD MEN. 193 
 
 twenty times I skould think making him such a 
 mess with grease and coal-dust as you never saw." 
 
 Among the recent contributions to literature are 
 some autobiographical sketches by a locomotive en- 
 gineer, in which he gives an account of some queer inci- 
 dents that have come under his observation. He says 
 that during his twenty-five years of experience, his loco- 
 motive has been overturned six times, and each time 
 he had dreamed beforehand of the accident, seeing in 
 the dream the exact place, the direction in which the 
 train was going, and the side on which the engine was 
 overturned. At various times his dreams have been 
 the means of preventing collisions, of saving many 
 lives and much property. He thus tells of one of 
 these experiences: 
 
 " At another time, I was in charge of a construc- 
 tion train, being engineer, conductor and gang-boss 
 combined. One night I saw in a dream the collision 
 of an express with a through freight train at the 
 station where I stopped. The engines and coaches 
 were badly used up, and many killed and wounded. 
 The dream was very vivid and distressed me all the 
 next day. The second morning my train was ready to 
 start, but the through freight, which was late, came 
 along, passing the station seven minutes on the express 
 time, a very reckless thing, as it was in a cut, with a 
 sharp curve, through which the express always came 
 13 
 
194 FORTY YEAKS ON THE BAIL, 
 
 at full speed, the whistle of which I at that moment 
 heard. It recalled my dream at once. Seizing the 
 red flag, I signaled the freight train, and ran down 
 the curve to flag the express, whose engineer reversed 
 at once, and the engines came to a halt within ten feet 
 of each other. As it was not my duty to flag other 
 trains, or to pay any attention to them, had it not been 
 for the dream and its effects on my mind, causing me 
 to be doubly on the alert at that time, there would 
 have been a serious collision, as the express had nine 
 very full coaches. Some considered it a lucky coinci- 
 dence, but these in my experience have been too 
 frequent, and the dreams too real for me to consider 
 them as such." 
 
 It would be impossible to enumerate the many 
 directions in which railroads have influenced the 
 literature of to-day, and in how many ways railroad 
 men have gotten into print. One can hardly help 
 thinking that if so much has been done in the past 
 fifty years, the next century will witness developments 
 in the same direction that will astonish the world. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Since the first quarter of the century benevolent 
 and mutual benefit societies have sprung into exist- 
 ence by the hundreds all over the land, and especially 
 among all classes of wage-earning people. No organi- 
 zations are so popular with the masses, no others boast 
 of such membership rolls, and to no others do different 
 cities open wide their gates with the same hearty 
 welcome when they meet in their annual assemblies. 
 These societies, with different names and forms of 
 government, some with secret rites and others with 
 nothing of the kind, being based only on business 
 relations, have after all the same general object in 
 view to aid humanity that needs aid. They have 
 distributed large sums of money for the relief of the 
 sick, the burial of the dead, the education of the 
 orphan, the support of the widow and the aged, and 
 thus have lightened the burden of sorrow of many a 
 broken heart, and gladdened the desolate home of the 
 mourner. 
 
 " The great good accomplished," said the president 
 195 
 
196 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 of one of the railway men's associations in an annual 
 speech, "who dare try to fathom it? Go ask the 
 lonely widows throughout our land. Go ask the thou- 
 sands of orphan children, clinging fondly to their 
 widowed mother, and the dear little home that is 
 theirs. Go ask the aged father, as with trembling 
 limbs and faltering voice he rehearses to you the 
 story of the death of his son. Go ask the loved 
 mother, perhaps now entirely alone all gone and 
 the sweet, sad expression depicted indelibly upon her 
 features will tell far better than spoken words, the 
 true source of her womanly resignation. Go ask true 
 manhood, or true womanhood everywhere, and the 
 answer will be rolled back in words of fire, so that it 
 may be stamped indelibly and forever on your minds." 
 
 The desire to provide for the loved ones who sur- 
 vive him is strong in every man, but few men are able 
 to gather a competency while they are struggling to 
 keep their families well provided for. Then, too, acci- 
 dent or disease may carry off a man before he has had 
 a chance to make a good start in business. All these 
 considerations led to' the birth of these societies just 
 mentioned, and keep the ranks full to-day. 
 
 The growth of railroad interests in this country 
 was so rapid that before people were aware an army of 
 men were in its service. To-day it is estimated that 
 in the United States there are upwards of seven hun- 
 
197 
 
 clred thousand railroad men, commanded by nearly six 
 thousand general and division officers. The railroad 
 man who is in the train service is in the midst of 
 dangers that threaten life and safety, and to him natu- 
 rally come thoughts of providing for those near and 
 dear to him in case he is summoned suddenly to the 
 Great Unknown, or is left to the charity of friends 
 when disabled from any cause. Life insurance compa- 
 nies in early days offered one solution of the problem, 
 but they demanded high rates, for railroad men were 
 placed among the "extra hazardous risks." Then 
 associations based on the co-operative and protective 
 plan, formed by the men themselves, sprang into being, 
 and have proved so satisfactory that it can be no 
 longer a matter of doubt that they are best adapted to 
 the wants of wage-earning people. These organiza- 
 tions now exist in great numbers among railroad men ; 
 engineers, switchmen, station agents, conductors, in 
 fact, all grades of the service having societies of their 
 own of which they may well be proud. 
 
 Until 1880 no effort was made in the United States 
 by a railroad corporation to establish any kind of 
 relief association for its employees. In this respect 
 our nation has been and is far behind Great Britain 
 and other European nations, where, since early days, 
 relief funds, pensions, and even orphanages have 
 existed for the benefit of railway employees and their 
 
198 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 families, all being provided by the corporations them- 
 selves. 
 
 In the United States the Baltimore and Ohio rail- 
 road was the first to take steps in this direction, in the 
 year just named. The sum of one hundred thousand 
 dollars, which was afterward increased to five hundred 
 thousand, has been set aside by that company as the 
 nucleus of a fund for insurance payments in case of 
 death, allowance during disability, and pensions for 
 those incapacitated in the service of the company, the 
 amounts paid being based on the wages received. A 
 few other corporations have followed the example set 
 by President Garrett, in a small way, but, after all, the 
 vast aggregate of railway employees are left to look 
 out for themselves in this country, and the prospects 
 are they will do so for many a long year to come. 
 
 The press has begun to agitate the subject some- 
 what. Taking up the cause of those who are in the 
 service of railroad corporations, the "Railway Age" 
 thus writes : 
 
 " That our railroad companies must in time make 
 some provision for competent and faithful employees 
 who have grown old or become disabled in their service 
 
 C5 
 
 may be regarded as indisputable. When a man devotes 
 himself for life to the service of a railway corporation, 
 he surrenders to a certain extent that which, especially 
 in this country, is his dearest privilege, namely, the 
 
199 
 
 right to go into business for himself and be inde- 
 pendent. The more competent he is, the greater the 
 sacrifice. It may be taken for granted that many 
 departments of our railway service can be conducted 
 most satisfactorily by men who, if they had gone into 
 business for themselves, would have been at least fairly 
 successful and attained a modest competence for their 
 old age. There is no branch of the service, either on 
 the road or in the office, in which brains are not 
 needed. But the ambition of the man who has brains 
 and energy is to be independent, to plunge into the 
 thick of the unending struggle for fortune and fame 
 and win the great prizes if he can. It is just such 
 men that a railway system needs in all its departments'. 
 For the ablest of them it is right that it should have 
 high rewards in the positions and salaries to which 
 they may attain. But it is possible for only a few, 
 comparatively, to rise like a Potter, from shoveling 
 coal into the furnace of a locomotive; like a Merrill, 
 from heading a section gang; like a Hughitt, from the 
 operator's table; like a Towne, from running a freight 
 train ; like scores of others who have climbed from the 
 lowest to the highest positions in railway service. 
 And if a railway company says to these ' give to the 
 service the ability which you have, and, though you 
 may not win the highest prizes, you shall be remem- 
 bered and cared for ' is that more than a fair return 
 for the service that such men would render?" 
 
200 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 In 1868 the army of conductors established the 
 " Old Reliable," an insurance organization, the first of 
 its kind among conductors to take and make a name for 
 itself in this country. Its object was to " provide for 
 the widows and children, heirs or representatives of 
 those of its members who lose their lives or die amid 
 the dangers and perils of their hazardous vocation." 
 
 When the organization originated its members were 
 few, but its vast opportunities for benefiting our ranks 
 were so apparent at a glance that it spread like wild- 
 fire. Being a member from the first, and secretary of 
 the Milwaukee division at the founding of the associa- 
 tion, I have an interest in its welfare that could come 
 to me in no other way, and its annual meetings are 
 full of some of the pleasantest memories of my life. 
 We have reason to feel proud of what we have done, 
 when we think that up to October, 1886, one million, 
 ninety-three thousand, two hundred and forty dollars 
 were paid out to beneficiaries, or an average of over 
 two thousand dollars to each. 
 
 Who can estimate the good this money has done ? 
 
 Our first president was James Marshall, who 
 served five years, when he was succeeded by J. W. 
 Seymore for three years. The presidents since have 
 been M. B. Waters, Samuel Titus, A. C. Sinclair, 
 W. S. Sears, O. A. Brigham, E. P. Brown, George L. 
 Harrison, Ward Nichols, Edwin Morrell, F. Champlin, 
 and George F. Hanford. 
 
201 
 
 Loyalty to " Old Eeliable " has always been a 
 marked characteristic of its members, and few organi- 
 zations can show more enthusiastic workers. There 
 are many who rarely miss attending every convention, 
 and whom only the stern calls of duty elsewhere can 
 keep away. Samuel Titus, one of the oldest conduc- 
 tors on the New York Central road, and who was 
 elected president of "Old Eeliable" at our Atlanta 
 meeting in 1877, has attended every convention since 
 the organization. George L. Harrison, so well known 
 for his unceasing work in the cause, and who was 
 elected president at Milwaukee in 1882, has been at 
 eighteen consecutive annual meetings, or every one 
 except the first. 
 
 Our conventions have been held in some of the 
 most important cities of the country, from the Atlantic 
 seaboard to the Eocky Mountains. We have held 
 them as far south as Atlanta and New Orleans, as far 
 north as Montreal ; from Boston on the east to Denver 
 on the west. The meeting of this year, 1887, will be 
 held at Portland, Maine, and promises to be second to 
 none in attendance and enthusiasm. 
 
 It would be impossible for me to give an account 
 of all the good times that we enjoyed when we assem- 
 bled each year, but I cannot refrain from mentioning 
 a few meetings of the members of " Old Eeliable " 
 at which I enjoyed myself particularly, and around 
 
202 FOETY YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 which cluster memories for us all that are of peculiar 
 interest. 
 
 Our fourth convention was held at Chicago, in 
 1871, on the Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday 
 before the great fire, which gives to it something of 
 historical interest. 
 
 We "Chicago boys" had been very anxious to 
 have the conductor's convention gather in our won- 
 derful city, for we felt proud of it and wanted to show 
 off what we had been boasting about so many years. 
 We then had a population of about three hundred and 
 thirty-five thousand. The Garden City had, in the 
 ten previous years, been literally raised by jack screws, 
 eight feet above its old grade, sand and mud being 
 taken from the river and harbor to fill in the space. 
 Huge warehouses and stores had been thus lifted up 
 and now rested on substantial masonry and brick work 
 built up from below. We opened the eyes of our 
 visitors by showing them these buildings, and we felt 
 proud to tell them that George M. Pullman had taken 
 a prominent part in the work, and was the first to 
 show how a whole block of brick or stone edifices, 
 with all their contents, could be lifted up without 
 even disturbing the transaction of business inside. 
 
 We had also hundreds of new and elegant build- 
 ings. Our Chamber of Commerce had cost a quarter 
 of a million of dollars ; our Crosby Opera House had 
 
203 
 
 cost upwards of four hundred thousand dollars, and 
 our theaters were among the finest in the country. 
 We pointed to our many handsome stone churches, 
 costing from forty thousand to ninety thousand dollars 
 each, and to our numerous fine school buildings. Our 
 guests were quartered at the Palmer House, the Tre- 
 mont, the new Sherman, the Briggs, and a dozen 
 other hotels, as fine as any in the land. We showed 
 them our Lincoln, Central, and Union parks, and 
 explained to them the boulevard and park system 
 which is to-day the admiration of the nation, and 
 which even then showed many fine features. 
 
 Our tunnels under the river, and our water works, 
 including the tunnel under the lake, the crib, the 
 water-tower, and the four pumping engines with a 
 daily capacity of over seventy million gallons, all 
 excited special interest. 
 
 Among the railroad features of the city we had 
 much to boast of, for Chicago was even then a 
 great railroad center, her lines running in every 
 direction for thousands of miles. It was estimated 
 that over these roads a total of not less than ninety-six 
 passenger trains and one hundred and seventeen 
 freight trains moved each way, making a total of four 
 hundred and twenty-six both ways, or an average of 
 three in every ten minutes through the whole twenty- 
 four hours of each day. 
 
204 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 Among the many pleasant circumstances that made 
 our reunion of that year so enjoyable, may be men- 
 tioned the renewal of acquaintances formed many 
 years before. I have already spoken of the fact 
 that when Chicago began to attract the attention 
 of the country as a railroad center, even so far back as 
 the fifties, scores of railroad men from the East were 
 attracted here, and the migration had kept up every 
 year since. In consequence, the conductors found the 
 playmates and school friends of their youth on all 
 sides, being in the employment of different roads in 
 various capacities, both in the train service and in 
 the offices. Many were the hours they spent with 
 these old friends in talking over days gone by, and in 
 comparing their present lots, for fortune had not dealt 
 with any two alike, smiling on some and having only 
 frowns for others. 
 
 We kept our guests busy during the three days 
 they were with us, visiting different places and admir- 
 ing the great features of our city. Little did we think 
 that most of us were looking at Old Chicago for the 
 last time, and that in forty-eight hours from our 
 adjournment only blackened, smouldering ruins would 
 exist in the place of all of which we were boasting. 
 On Thursday night we held our annual banquet at 
 the Briggs House, then kept by George French. On 
 Friday we went to Milwaukee on a special train of 
 
OLD RELIABLE. 
 
 205 
 
 Pullman cars furnished by the Chicago and North- 
 Western railway, of which John C. Gault was then 
 superintendent. William Knight had charge of our 
 train. Landlord Cottrill served an elaborate banquet 
 for us at the Plankington House, and as usual the 
 George family was called on for a few songs. We 
 
 THE VESTIBULE TRAIN. Page 243. 
 
 started back to Chicago at four o'clock on Friday 
 afternoon, and dispersed on Saturday in time for most 
 of the guests to escape the great fire that broke out 
 that very night. 
 
 Many of the conductors staid in the city to spend 
 Sunday, and most of these lost all their baggage. 
 Many met with thrilling experiences in the great con- 
 flagration, being at hotels in the very center of the 
 burned district. Of that season of terror I shall not 
 
206 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 stop to speak ; its history has often been told, and needs 
 no repetition here. I shall only quote the verses of 
 Bret Harte, which seem to tell the story of Chicago's 
 fall in words of striking imagery. 
 
 ' ' Blackened and bleeding, helpless, panting, prone 
 On the charred fragments of her shattered throne 
 Lies she who stood but yesterday alone. 
 
 " Queen of the West! by some enchanter taught 
 To lift the glory of Aladdin's court, 
 Then lost the spell that all that wonder wrought. 
 
 " Like her own prairies by some chance seed sown, 
 Like her own prairies in one brief day grown, 
 Like her own prairies in one tierce night mown." 
 
 It was well for Chicago that she had become so great 
 a railroad center, for in her hour of need her tracks 
 stood by her in noble service. If ever philanthropy 
 had a faithful handmaid she found one then in the 
 locomotive. The suffering and needy were carried to 
 places of safety by different railroads free of charge, 
 while provisions, medical and other supplies were 
 literally poured in from all quarters of the globe on 
 these roads. That Chicago bears the title to-day of 
 the " Phoenix City " and occupies the proud position 
 she does among the cities of the world is due more to 
 her railroads and her railroad men than to any other 
 single agency. 
 
 During the second convention of " Old Eeli- 
 able," held at Columbus, Ohio, in 1869, we accepted 
 
207 
 
 an invitation to take a run over to Louisville, Ken- 
 tucky, where we were royally entertained at the Gait 
 House by the conductors running into that city, who 
 tendered us a fine banquet. So pleasant were the 
 memories of the hospitality of the fair Kentucky me- 
 tropolis, that we all were unanimous in desiring to 
 hold our convention there in 1872. The latter was a 
 memorable occasion. Our party from Chicago made 
 the run in a special train in charge of Conductor 
 George Hewitt, over the Illinois Central road. My 
 wife and two daughters, all accomplished singers, 
 accompanied me, and our singing was often alluded to 
 by our fellow passengers in after years as one of the 
 most pleasant episodes in the memorable jaunt. Our 
 voices frequently aroused the echoes in the Gait 
 House during our stay. One day, while we were get- 
 ting ready to start on an excursion to Cave Hill Ceme- 
 tery, we were singing in the parlors to entertain a 
 party of friends who had gathered there, when Mr. 
 Johnson, the proprietor, came in to listen to us for a 
 few moments. After we had sung two or three selections 
 our host said, " I have a surprise for you." In a few 
 moments the folding doors of the parlor were rolled 
 back, and in the adjoining room was spread an elegant 
 lunch. 
 
 Mr. Johnson then made a few remarks, in which he 
 said he would be proud to eDtertain the year around 
 
208 FORTY YEAliS ON THE KAIL. 
 
 such a company as the conductors and their friends, 
 and bade us welcome to the feast he had prepared. 
 After a speech of thanks by Mr. Seymore, of the Illi- 
 nois Central, we proceeded to partake of the collation, 
 which was in every respect worthy of the famous Gait 
 House. -That night we wound up our session with a 
 reception and ball at the Louisville Hotel, when my 
 family and I entertained the guests with many of our 
 songs, acceding to loud and frequent calls for such 
 music. 
 
 To tell of the good times we had at all of our con- 
 ventions would alone fill a book. But I cannot refrain 
 from mentioning another reunion, held at Denver, in 
 October, 1886. I took out six Pullman coaches, filled 
 to overflowing with a genial company of conductors 
 hailing from all parts of the country. We left the 
 North-Western depot at Chicago on October 4th, in a 
 jolly mood, and before we had been on the road more 
 than an hour or two I had made up a quartette whose 
 singing was a pleasant feature of the entire trip. 
 
 The company had supplied every guest with a 
 bouquet, and had taken pains to see that our train was 
 equipped with everything that could in any way con- 
 tribute to the comfort and pleasure of its guests. 
 Arriving at Denver, the conductors were soon quar- 
 tered at the Windsor, the St. James, and the Albany, 
 all good hotels. We had our usual conductors' ball, 
 
209 
 
 and just before the close of the convention our quar- 
 tette was loudly called on for songs. We responded 
 and were encored repeatedly. 
 
 Our sojourn at Denver was made memorable by 
 frequent excursions to various points. We visited the 
 mint, the smelting works and other places of note at 
 Denver; we went to Georgetown, ten thousand feet 
 above the level of the sea; to Leadville, the famous 
 mining town, two thousand feet nearer the clouds than 
 Georgetown; to Manitou and Colorado Springs, and 
 every place of interest within a radius of a hundred 
 miles from the capital city. 
 
 To attempt to give even a brief description of the 
 wonders of Colorado scenery would be impossible 
 here. Perhaps our most enjoyable trip during this 
 convention was to the Garden of the Gods, at Manitou. 
 Here majestic rocks are piled in mountain masses 
 almost as far as the eye can reach, and stretched over 
 acre upon acre are gray and red heaps of limestone 
 grouped in picturesque and majestic confusion. Gro- 
 tesque shapes, huge caricatures of animals in all 
 imaginable positions, castle walls pierced by windows, 
 slender spires, leaning towers, mammoth gateways, 
 and hundreds of fantastic shapes no pen can describe, 
 form a picture which, once seen, will never be forgot- 
 ten. This famous place is truly regarded as among 
 the wonders of the world. 
 14 
 
210 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 Our trip to Georgetown showed us a curious and 
 interesting specimen of difficult railroad engineering, 
 and this was the famous loop. The road slants its 
 way up the mountain side, and actually crosses itself, 
 just about Georgetown. One section of our train 
 stopped on the upper grade, while the other section 
 passed beneath the first, fifty feet lower, the trains 
 going in opposite directions, though bound for the 
 same place. An enterprising photographer took pic- 
 tures of our cars at this point. The loop is a mar- 
 velous exhibition of the triumph of engineering skill. 
 In spite of the apparently insurmountable impediments 
 thrown up by stern old nature, the locomotive has 
 pressed its way in triumph. 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 HUMAN NATURE ON THE RAIL. 
 
 If the poat who wrote "The proper study of man- 
 kind is man," had been a conductor he might have 
 indulged in that study to his heart's content. Per- 
 haps no other place furnishes a better opportunity 
 than the train does for the study of hujnan nature. 
 No one has a better chance to learn the peculiarities 
 of mankind than the conductor, going backward and 
 forward as he does through the train and passing his 
 days thus from one year's end to the other. The mask 
 that is worn so successfully in church and society is 
 dropped before him without reserve. 
 
 All kinds of people are to be found traveling on 
 the rail. There is the man who acts as if the rest of 
 the world, and especially all railroad officials, were in 
 league against him. 
 
 4 'This is a free country, and I'm in for all the law 
 allows," he says. 
 
 So he puts his valise in the seat beside him to pre- 
 vent anyone from sitting next to him, opens the window 
 without regard to the feeble woman back of him, or 
 
 211 
 
212 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 the sick child across the aisle, and then spits tobacco 
 juice all over the floor. This is the man who always 
 rides on a pass when he can get it by hook or crook, 
 or resorts to scalpers for tickets when passes give out, 
 or is determined to use a limited ticket long after the 
 time of limitation has expired. It is against his prin- 
 ciples to pay a good, honest fare. 
 
 " There's nothing like cheek in this world," he 
 remarks, when giving advice to a traveler not so en- 
 dowed with this article as himself. " There is nothing 
 like cheek, and if a thing's to be got by it, why I'm 
 there every time. When I put on my coat in the 
 morning I put on my gall with it, and I tell you I 
 never get left." 
 
 Once in a while the selfish passenger gets a fitting 
 rebuke, as the following story shows: 
 
 On a suburban train going out of Boston a well- 
 known vocalist appropriated to his sole use and com- 
 fort two seats. While this luxurious wayfarer was 
 occupying so much room there entered the car a man 
 considerably under the influence of liquor. The ine- 
 briate could find no seat except that which the first - 
 mentioned passenger had appropriated, and going up 
 to the latter the bibulous traveler said: 
 
 ; 'Move o-over, p-please (hie) ; I want a seat." 
 
 The other glanced up with a look of intense scorn, 
 but did not deign to take further notice just then of 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE KAIL. 213 
 
 his interlocutor. The intoxicated individual returned 
 again to the charge with: 
 
 " Can't you move o-over (hie) and give a fellow a 
 seat?" 
 
 "No, I can't and won't; you are drunk," was the 
 curt response. 
 
 "Well," stammered the other, "I know Tm drunk 
 (hie), but I'll get over that; you're a hog, and will 
 never get over it." 
 
 Speaking of car-windows and the perfect disregard 
 shown by most people in opening them, reminds me of 
 a rebuke once given a couple of selfish travelers. 
 
 " Conductor," called out a woman who could 
 scarcely be called a lady when her voice was heard, 
 " come and open this window or I shall die! " 
 
 The window being opened according to this request, 
 a lady sitting near exclaimed, 
 
 ' Conductor, come and shut this window, or I shall 
 die!" 
 
 " Conductor," shouted an annoyed passenger not far 
 off, as the official was leaving, " conductor, come and 
 open this window and kill one of these women; then 
 shut it and kill the other! " 
 
 On every train there is the timid traveler. He is 
 afraid of accidents, and anxiously asks who is the engi- 
 neer and how long he has been on the road. He is 
 afraid to speak to any one lest he be swindled in some 
 
214 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 way, and neither offers nor accepts favors. He eyes 
 his neighbor suspiciously, keeps his coat buttoned up, 
 will not look at his watch lest it get stolen, and either 
 reads or stares out of the window so as to avoid being 
 spoken to. 
 
 Ladies are usually the most suspicious travelers. I 
 remember many funny incidents that illustrate this 
 trait. One night while I was on watch in my sleep- 
 ing-car, running from Chicago to New York, a big, fat 
 woman jumped excitedly from her berth and began to 
 scream at the top of her voice, "Oh dear, oh dear, I'm 
 robbed, I'm robbed!" 
 
 "What's the matter, madam?" I cried, running 
 down the aisle. 
 
 "Matter?" she shrieked, beside herself with fear. 
 "What's the matter? Matter enough, sir. I've been 
 robbed. I had six thousand dollars' worth of diamonds 
 under my pillow, and where are they now? They've 
 been stolen, that's where they are, and the thief's on 
 this train, right in this car, and you've got to find 
 him, sir." 
 
 " Calm yourself, madam," I said to her. " Calm 
 yourself. Don't disturb everybody on the train. We'll 
 soon find your diamonds if they're still in the car." 
 
 First we carefully searched her berth, taking it to 
 pieces in order to make the hunt thorough. While we 
 were busy at our work I heard a smothered exclama- 
 tion from my passenger. 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE BAIL. 215 
 
 " Oh, dear," she muttered, " I shall faint away." 
 
 "What's the matter now?" I sternly demanded. 
 ' k Here they are, sir," she meekly answered, putting 
 her hand in the bosom of her dress and drawing the 
 diamonds out. "I put them away and forgot it." 
 
 " Get into bed and don't let me hear from you 
 again," was all I could say. During the rest of the 
 trip she was the meekest woman I ever saw. 
 
 On another trip a Boston lady claimed to have lost 
 four dollars, which she was sure she had put in her 
 purse before retiring. " Oh, I am sure I put it there," 
 she said to me, " very sure. It's all the money I had 
 with me, too. What shall I do? " 
 
 Tears were brimming in her eyes, and there would 
 have been a flood of them in another minute but for a 
 thought that struck her. 
 
 " I know who took the money," she asserted, with 
 her eyes flashing spitefully. " There's the man! He 
 took it." And she pointed to the darkey porter who 
 stood near by. 
 
 "I hardly think so, madam," I answered. "He's 
 been with me a long time and I've always found him 
 strictly honest." 
 
 "He's got it, I know he's got it," was all she 
 would say in reply. 
 
 Colonel Welsh, then our general superintendent, 
 as on the car, and I told him of the lady's charges 
 against the porter. 
 
216 FORTY YEARS ,ON THE RAIL. 
 
 We decided to await developments, confident that 
 before long the porter would be exonerated and the 
 money found. About an hour later the lady came up 
 to me looking very much ashamed of herself. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, conductor," she stammered, 
 her cheeks covered with blushes, " I have found my 
 money." 
 
 She had put it in the sleeve of her dress, and not 
 in her pocket-book. 
 
 The inveterate questioner is a nuisance to the con- 
 ductor. He begins after the first mile by asking the 
 time, then the distance from point to point, and so 
 questions are kept up until the name of nearly every 
 station has been given him, the time has been told 
 him over and over again, and the contents of a good- 
 sized gazetteer or guide-book have been imparted to 
 him. It is no wonder that railroad men sometimes 
 give way to their feelings of irritation, for the provo- 
 cation is often very great. Many years ago a conduc- 
 tor had the following experience: 
 
 " What's the next station? " asked a passenger of a 
 conductor who was going through the train on his 
 first round. 
 
 " Smithville." 
 
 " That's what I thought," said the passenger. 
 
 "What is the next station?" again interrogated 
 the man as the conductor macle his second round, 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE KAIL. 217 
 
 "Jonesville." 
 
 "That's what I thought," quickly responded the 
 questioner. 
 
 Time and again, whenever the conductor went 
 through the train, the man had some question ready 
 and always concluded with, " That's what I thought." 
 Finally the railroad man could endure it no longer 
 and the conversation ended thus: 
 
 "How far is it to Toledo?" 
 
 "Twenty miles." 
 
 " That's what I thought." 
 
 "Do you know what I think?" exclaimed the irate 
 official. " I think you're a fool." 
 
 " That's what I thought," said the passenger. 
 
 The last remark was followed by general merri- 
 ment, in which the passenger joined as heartily as the 
 rest and then invited the conductor to take a bottle of 
 wine with him at the terminus of the road on the 
 strength of the joke. 
 
 Some people seem born to try to make the conduc- 
 tor's life a burden to him. Once a man in ordinary 
 citizen's clothes boarded a train and quietly took a 
 seat. "When he was asked for his ticket he replied, 
 
 "I have no ticket." 
 
 " Then you must pay cash." 
 
 " I won't do anything of the kind, and you can't 
 make me," 
 
218 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 " We'll see about that," said the conductor, pulling 
 the cord to stop the train. 
 
 "So you're going to put me off, are you?" said 
 the man. " You can't do it. Here's my pass." 
 
 The pass was properly made out, and though vexed 
 enough to say something far from pleasant, the con- 
 ductor left the car without a word. 
 
 After leaving the next station the conductor in his 
 round came on a new passenger. The same conver- 
 sation took place as before, and reached the same 
 climax, and when the pass was produced it was the 
 very one offered by the other man. The explanation 
 was that the passenger had drawn up his overcoat 
 collar, hunched his shoulders out of position, put his 
 hair and beard in disorder, and pulled his hat down 
 over one eye, besides changing his seat. 
 
 Later in the trip the conductor saw, in the end seat 
 by the stove, a new passenger, who had his coat off, 
 wore a remarkable looking checked shirt and a 
 peculiar hat. As before, a ticket was asked for, then 
 cash, and finally the cord was pulled. A general 
 laugh arose in the car when the self-same pass was 
 produced and several people identified the man as the 
 owner. 
 
 The man proved to be a veritable Proteus, for he 
 next disguised himself as a sufferer from neuralgia 
 and rheumatism, and had his face tied up and wore a 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE RAIL. 219 
 
 huge muffler around his neck. The conductor was 
 again deceived. His patience was all gone by that 
 time, but he held his peace and resolved not to be 
 taken in again. He felt sure he knew his man. 
 
 At the next station a passenger got on board whom 
 the official recognized at once as the practical joker 
 who had worried him all day, feeling sure the man 
 had got off one side of the train to get on board at the 
 other. As the conductor took up the tickets he passed 
 this man, giving him a wink and a broad smile. A 
 little further on the man, who was really a new pas- 
 senger, got off, and as he left the car he said: 
 
 " I don't know what I've done to ride free, but 
 seeing it's all the same to you, I don't care." 
 
 The conductor considered himself the worst fooled 
 man in America that day. 
 
 I remember once having an inveterate talker on 
 my train, who bored the passengers and then tired 
 me out, till I felt it my duty to put a stop to his talk 
 in order to get some peace for the rest of us. 
 
 " Hold on, hold on, my friend," I interrupted him 
 about the time he had got well under way with a full 
 head of steam on. " Excuse me, but I want to tell 
 you a little story." 
 
 " All right, Captain," he assented, putting the 
 brakes on his tongue, though he looked as if he felt 
 very sorry to stop even for a few moments. " Let's 
 hear your story." 
 
220 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 " A neighbor of mine has a parrot," I commenced, 
 "which has learned to say almost everything. One 
 day my neighbor went away and the parrot sat on the 
 front porch calling to the horses and cattle that were 
 passing. The parrot finally called out to a big bull- 
 dog, who turned on the bird and tore nearly all her 
 feathers off before she could escape. When my neigh- 
 bor came home he said to polly, ' Well, you're a 
 pretty looking bird. What's the matter with you?' 
 'I guess I talk too much,' sadly answered the parrot." 
 
 My passenger looked at me calmly for a moment, 
 and then walked away. The rest of the passengers 
 and I had a peaceful trip after this. 
 
 Travelers are very often inconsiderate. Of opening 
 windows, and occupying seats without reference to 
 others, I have already spoken. I have heard ladies 
 complain about each other in the way of monopolizing 
 the dressing-rooms on sleeping cars. The lady who 
 rises first in the morning often takes possession of 
 this room for an indefinite time, keeping other ladies 
 and many children with incomplete toilets waiting for 
 breakfast. I once heard a lady say that a fashionable 
 dame thus kept many for nearly an hour, and when 
 she emerged from the dressing-room, she was 
 resplendent in a fine silk dress and accessories to 
 match, having laid aside a traveling dress for this less 
 suitable attire. Her fine clothes did not win forgive- 
 ness from her fellow passengers. 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE BAIL. 221 
 
 Kace prejudices are too strong to be overcome even 
 by the democratic railway trains of our country, and 
 incidents often bring this out in a strong light when 
 colored people enter a car. In my early days on the 
 road, the " Jim Crow car," as it was called, was used 
 in New England for negroes and was considered good 
 enough for them, though it was scarcely better 
 than a cattle car of to-day. This miserable convey- 
 ance was usually painted black, probably to sug- 
 gest its use. Out West the negroes fared better, 
 but in the border States, on the Mason-Dixon line 
 especially, many a serious struggle took place about 
 the admission of a colored person to the privileges of 
 first-class coaches, even when he was traveling on a 
 first-class ticket. The aristocratic southerner, who 
 had no idea of objecting to the presence of a negro 
 valet or nurse in the same seat with himself, or wife, 
 or children, would not tolerate the same negro in the 
 car if he were traveling as an equal on a ticket he had 
 purchased for himself. The fifteenth amendment by 
 no means wiped out these feelings, though it has 
 given a solution for outward actions toward the 
 colored race which saves railway officials from many 
 of the unpleasant situations of the past. 
 
 Nabobism has taken a very strong hold even in this 
 country. Away back in 1835, an old Bostonian 
 groaned over the fact that " the rich and the poor, the 
 
222 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 educated and the ignorant, the polite and the vulgar, 
 all herd together in this modern improvement in 
 traveling." Although, if he were living now, he would 
 not have quite so much to complain about, still first- 
 class cars, drawing-room and sleeping coaches are to 
 be had by all who can pay for them, and this by no 
 means excludes the different classes complained of by 
 the old resident of the Hub. 
 
 It is often amusing to notice the way some people 
 try to draw a line between themselves and their 
 neighbors even in a palace car. There are many 
 Americans 'who have affected foreign notions, and 
 after even a short stay abroad they come back home 
 filled with so many aristocratic ideas that they can 
 find nothing in their own country good enough for 
 them. Such people would be glad to supplant our 
 present democratic coach by the compartment cars of 
 Europe. This they can never accomplish, but they 
 find consolation in the private car. 
 
 The number and the elegance of the private cars of 
 our country is a source of wonderment to foreigners 
 who visit our land. Our money kings and railroad 
 magnates outrival European sovereigns in this regard. 
 Costly woods, velvets, and glass are used in the manu- 
 facture of these palaces on wheels, while art treasures 
 in the form of pictures, vases, china, silver and crystal 
 ornaments decorate their walls and niches. They 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE RAIL. 223 
 
 contain different rooms, and are equipped with every 
 convenience and luxury money can procure. President 
 Vanderbilt's private car cost over twenty thousand 
 dollars, and contains a state-room, card-room, sitting 
 and dining-room, observatory, kitchen, larder, with 
 fittings of the utmost elegance. 
 
 Human nature displays itself in a thousand dif- 
 ferent and often unexpected ways on a railroad train. 
 Some think, "I'll never see these people again; I don't 
 care what I do." So the deacon, who is so pious and 
 exact at home, takes a hand at cards on the train and 
 joins in laughs and discussions that are caused by very 
 different topics from those he approves of at home; 
 the fair lady who smiles upon her five hundred and 
 one particular friends in the drawing-room, in the rail- 
 way-car is disagreeable to her neighbor, exasperating 
 to the conductor, cross and overbearing to her child ; 
 the pretty girl forgets her simper and her company 
 manners; the youth assumes a swagger and an air of 
 arrogance to give the impression that he is of age; the 
 man who passes for the polished gentleman at home 
 proves himself an intolerant boor on the rail ; he who 
 is wont to serve his superiors in his usual circle 
 desires to rule here, and the man who is smarting 
 under some injury or injustice received in business or 
 social circles takes his revenge on his fellow passen- 
 gers or the railroad employees. 
 
224 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 I have often thought that trains would be good 
 places for missionaries. I am sure a person who longs 
 to be a public benefactor does not need to go to foreign 
 lands to get good material to work on, when he has a 
 place right at home in which to try his skill. Lessons 
 on the golden rule could be given in every single car 
 of every train in the land every day in the week. 
 Some people have a very nice way of giving such 
 lessons, and I have often seen a reproof administered 
 in such a manner that the one reproved could never 
 forget it. The following story shows how in one case 
 this was successfully done: 
 
 A gentleman, prominent in legal circles in Boston, 
 was recently riding in a train, and in the seat before 
 him was a young and gayly dressed damsel. The car 
 was pretty full, and presently an elderly woman en- 
 tered, and finding no seat vacant but the one next to 
 the young woman mentioned, sat down beside her. 
 She was a decently dressed woman, but apparently of 
 humble station, and she carried several clumsy bun- 
 dles, which were evidently a serious annoyance to her 
 seatmate. The young woman made no effort to conceal 
 her vexation, but in the most conspicuous manner 
 showed the passengers around that she considered it 
 an impertinent intrusion for the new comer to presume 
 to sit down beside her. 
 
 In a few moments the old woman, depositing her 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE BAIL. 225 
 
 packages upon the seat, went across the car to speak 
 to an acquaintance she discovered on the opposite side 
 of the aisle. The lawyer leaned forward to the 
 offended young lady and courteously asked if she 
 would change seats with him. A smile of gratified 
 vanity showed how pleased she was to have attracted 
 the attention of so distinguished looking a gentleman. 
 
 " Oh, thank you ever so much," she said effusively, 
 " I should like to, but it would be as bad for you as 
 for me to sit beside such an old woman." 
 
 " I beg your pardon,''' the gentleman responded 
 with undiminished deference of manner, " it was not 
 your comfort I was thinking of, but the old lady's." 
 
 People often try to act like old and experienced 
 travelers and in some small way show they know little 
 of life on the railroad train. This is particularly 
 noticeable in sleeping-cars. One day, on my New 
 York run, a man who had evidently not been far away 
 from his secluded home before, came into my car and 
 instead of turning to the right to get through, rushed 
 straight ahead to the drawing-room. When he saw 
 himself in the mirror, not recognizing his own reflec- 
 tion, he reached for one of the brass rods nailed across 
 the glass to open the supposed door. At the first pull 
 the door would not budge, and seeing the other fellow 
 holding it from the other side, he gave the rod another 
 wrench and shouted, " Open the door, I tell you!" But 
 15 
 
226 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 the door did not open, and lie was just about to give 
 the other man a thrashing when I hastened forward 
 and explained the situation to him. As he came out 
 of the drawing-room door he started a roar of laughter 
 among the passengers by exclaiming, " Well, he's a 
 hog, anyhow." 
 
 On another occasion a passenger on his way to iAe 
 dining-car came out of the day coach into the ladies' 
 end of my car. Not quite understanding just how to 
 pass through, he looked in the glass of the toilet-room 
 door and said to his own image, "I want my supper. 
 Will you please show me the way to the dining-car?" 
 
 There was no answer, so he shouted louder, " Sup- 
 per! I want my supper! How can I get to the dining- 
 car?" 
 
 Still getting no reply, he walked off indignant at 
 the insolence of the sleeping-car attaches, but after 
 awhile he found his way to the desired car. 
 
 It seems the prevailing disposition of the traveling 
 public to cheat railroads whenever they can. They 
 evidently think that, as corporations have no souls, 
 defrauding them is not a moral crime. Pious people, 
 church deacons and members who would be horrified 
 at the idea of stealing a penny from a neighbor, seem 
 to have no compunctions of conscience about little 
 fraudulent practices of this kind. Hundreds of such 
 people think nothing of using limited tickets after 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE RAIL. 227 
 
 they have expired, "also tickets and passes made out to 
 other persons, or of riding on family passes when they 
 have no relationship to the family for whom the passes 
 were made out. Many cases have been reported where 
 in punch-tickets the bits of pasteboard punched out 
 have been saved and carefully glued in the old places 
 so as to be used again. 
 
 A very common practice among passengers is to 
 buy tickets for a station just this side of their desti- 
 nation, so as to save money, the conductor often not 
 noticing the fraud. 
 
 One day a man on my train went by the station he 
 had paid for, but he said he did not care particularly 
 about that, and would go on to the next stopping 
 place. I mistrusted that there was something wrong 
 about the man, and thought that perhaps he lived at 
 the next station. So after having some controversy 
 with him I concluded to put him off the train. I 
 pulled the bell-rope and forced him off. When he was 
 on the ground he turned around to me and said, with 
 an air of triumph, " This is all right. I live just over 
 there," pointing to his house across a forty-acre lot. 
 
 In all lawsuits the same principle prevails. " Get 
 all you can from a railway" is the public motto. 
 Many amusing incidents have come to my knowledge 
 which illustrate this human weakness. I remember 
 once, down East, a dog was run over by a locomotive, 
 
228 FOKTY YEAKS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 and the owner went to the superintendent of the road 
 to make his claim for damages. 
 
 " That, sir, was the finest dog in the State, There's 
 nothing that dog didn't know, sir. He knew more 
 than half the folks. I wouldn't take a thousand dol- 
 lars in hard cash for that dog if he was living to-day." 
 
 "So your dog knew a good deal, did he?" asked 
 the superintendent. 
 
 " I tell you, sir, there wasn't a thing that dog 
 didn't know that I told him. I wouldn't take a thou- 
 sand dollars for him this minute." 
 
 "If your dog knew so much," added the official, 
 "why didn't he have sense enough to get off the track 
 when the train was coming?" 
 
 The dog's master was a Yankee and his quick wit 
 did not fail him for more than a second. 
 
 " You changed your time-table a couple of days 
 ago, didn't you?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes," replied the superintendent, wondering what 
 was coming next. 
 
 " That's just it. I never saw the new time-table, 
 neither did my dog. If you had sent one around to 
 my place the dog would have been told what time the 
 express was due and wouldn't have been on the track." 
 
 Before the Inter-State Commerce Bill became a 
 law everybody who was at all acquainted with a rail- 
 road man, or could get a pretext for asking, wanted a 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE BAIL. 229 
 
 pass. Hundreds of funny stories might be told show- 
 ing this side of human nature. 
 
 A farmer once called on a superintendent and 
 asked for a pass. " On what ground do you expect 
 one?" asked the official. 
 
 "I see yer cars are runnin' quite empty," replied 
 the farmer, " and I thought you could take me 'long 
 as well as not, there bein' so much room." 
 
 The superintendent explained that a pass could not 
 be given on those grounds. The farmer paused a 
 minute and then said: 
 
 "Wall, now, Mr. Superintendent, if I was a drivin' 
 'long with my wagon in the country, and I had plenty 
 of room and you was a walkin', and you should ask me 
 to let you ride, and I refused, you would think I was 
 a darned hog, now wouldn't you? " 
 
 The superintendent laughed heartily at the 
 granger's argument, turned around to his desk and 
 wrote him out the desired paper. 
 
 Officials with a sense of the humorous often gave 
 laughable, but no less cutting rebukes to those who 
 applied for passes. The following story is told of a 
 general passenger agent in the South. A gentleman 
 came in, whom the agent knew somewhat, saying: 
 
 " I want to run down your line, can you help me 
 out?" 
 
 "Where are you going?" asked the railroad man. 
 
230 FOKTY YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 The gentleman named a station a couple of hours' 
 ride distant. 
 
 "All right," said the agent, and then gave direc- 
 tions to a clerk to make out the pass. 
 
 " Thanks. By the way, I would like to run over to 
 Washington while down that way. Could you fix me 
 over your connecting line? " 
 
 "No," the agent answered. "I have none of their 
 blank passes; besides, you could not ride on their 
 passenger trains." 
 
 "Why, how is that?" 
 
 "Well, you see, their classification requires that 
 gall in large quantities shall be transported by 
 freight," said the railroad man, and his visitor de- 
 parted without a smile. 
 
 A good joke on railway people is always appre- 
 ciated. Everybody seems to enjoy a story in which 
 the railway gets the worst of the joke. At one time, 
 when Superintendent Hoxie was on the Missouri 
 Pacific road a tramp got aboard of the train, deter- 
 mined to steal or beg a ride. He told a pitiful story 
 to the conductor, but the latter refused to let him ride 
 free. 
 
 " I can't do it," said the conductor. " Superintend- 
 ent Hoxie is aboard, and he has given strict orders 
 against free rides." 
 
 " I'll see Hoxie myself," said the tramp, and sure 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE RAIL. 231 
 
 enough he did, but Mr. Hoxie rewarded his impudence 
 by having the train stopped and the man put off. 
 
 By climbing aboard again in some way the tramp 
 got his ride, and when the train stopped at the next 
 station, which was quite a distance away, there stood 
 the tramp on the platform as Mr. Hoxie stepped from 
 the car. The superintendent recognized the man with 
 surprise and said: 
 
 "How did you get here? I thought you were put 
 off." 
 
 The tramp with a keen sense of humor, took hold 
 of Mr. Hoxie' s coat and drew him a little aside. 
 
 "Just step here, sir. I don't want to give it away 
 to the whole mob. I walked." 
 
 This remark, spoken so loudly that the whole crowd 
 could hear, had in it such a reflection on the slowness 
 of the road's trains that a roar of laughter followed 
 the tramp as he walked slowly away. 
 
 Tramps are curious specimens of humanity, and 
 conductors find it hard to deal with them. They show 
 an amount of perseverance that, if directed in some 
 useful occupation, would surely bring them to the top 
 of the ladder. But, unfortunately they devote their 
 quick wit and their stick-to-ati veness to " sponging " 
 for a living. When a tramp sets his mind on anything 
 he is sure to get it. Once while I was on the Council 
 Bluffs run a conductor met with one of the race of 
 
232 FORTY YEARS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 tramps who showed this characteristic to a marked 
 degree. At first the fellow was put off the train com- 
 paratively gently. How a tramp gets on trains without 
 having every bone in his body broken, is one of the 
 mysteries the railroad service has never solved. Well, 
 the man was once more discovered and once more put 
 off, the second time with considerable emphasis of the 
 conductor's foot. After kicking the fellow from the 
 train several times, and finally coming to the conclu- 
 sion that there was a look in his eye which said, "I'll 
 fight it out on this line if it takes all summer," the 
 conductor said: 
 
 "Where are you bound for, anyhow?" 
 
 " I'm going to Omaha, if your boot leaves enough 
 of the seat of my pants for me to get there with." 
 
 Such monumental perseverance got its reward at 
 last. 
 
 " Well, I'm going to Council Bluffs," said the con- 
 ductor with a laugh. " I guess you've earned your way 
 as far as I go." 
 
 The unpleasant side of human nature is by no 
 means the only one shown by the traveling public. 
 Agreeable, patient, accommodating and generous 
 people do not all stay at home, hiding their lights 
 under a bushel. There are travelers whom the weari- 
 ness and annoyances of railroading do not seem to 
 incommode, and who prove themselves veritable Mark 
 
HUMAN NATUEE ON THE RAIL. 233 
 
 Tapleys on all occasions. Like Mark, they seem re- 
 solved " to come out strong," as lie phrases it, under 
 the most disadvantageous circumstances. On long 
 trips such a person is an invaluable acquisition to any 
 train. He soon becomes authority on all subjects, 
 helps all parties to achieve something which, left to 
 themselves, they could not possibly accomplish, and 
 perhaps would not even dream of doing; is always 
 jovial and generous; is hail-fellow-well-met with 
 everybody, gets into the good graces of all the ladies 
 and children, has a group of men at the end of the car 
 or in the smoker laughing at his jokes, and never fails 
 to join in the laughter himself with a right good will. 
 
 Thousands of commercial travelers are on the road 
 to-day who illustrate every phase of human nature at 
 its best. The lives of train men would be monotonous 
 indeed if it were not for the genial spirits among the 
 passengers. The smoking-car is the favorite resort 
 for the jolliest men on the train, and as the conductor 
 passes along he is always drawn into whatever fun 
 is going on, and he has his share of good cigars 
 every time. 
 
 In these respects travelers on American railroad 
 trains differ from those of any other country. The 
 Englishman is shut up' in a compartment car with a 
 few others, and scarcely a word is exchanged by his 
 fellow passengers. Introductions are necessary in that 
 
234 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 country before an acquaintance is begun, and the 
 Englishman regards a friendly remark made by a 
 stranger as an intrusion, usually rewarding it by a 
 blank stare. 
 
 In this country friendliness of manner varies in 
 degree according to the section through which the 
 traveler passes. It is almost universally conceded that 
 people of the East are far more reserved than those of 
 the West. It is true that the former are courteous 
 and accommodating when occasions demand, but they 
 volunteer services or begin conversations far less fre- 
 quently than their Western cousins. The hearty 
 " Wall, stranger," with which a Far Wester greets his 
 neighbor on the train, immediately does away with 
 reserve, and his frank manner of telling his personal 
 history, that of his family, also his present and pos- 
 sible business, dealings, quite puts a stranger at his 
 ease and makes him almost equally confidential. Out 
 West everything is done on the broad-gauge plan. 
 The vast prairies, large rivers and lakes of the 
 region give it a certain stamp that has left an impress 
 on its people, making insularism and narrowness of 
 spirit an impossibility. 
 
 The good Samaritan is often found on the train, 
 ever ready by some kindly act to benefit others. For 
 the sick she has some simple home remedy in her 
 satchel; for the hungry she has a sandwich or biscuit, 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE BAIL. 235 
 
 or some fruit; for tlie fretful child she provides enter- 
 tainment and relieves the careworn mother; for the 
 sorrowing one, who is on her way to the bedside of a 
 sick relative, she has a word of comfort; and is, in 
 short, a general benefactor. Many a young girl, who is 
 alone on the cars and is taking a journey for the first 
 time in her life, owes her safety to such noble women. 
 
 In our large cities ladies have organized societies 
 for the care of young women who come from the 
 country or from other towns, having placards posted 
 in the waiting-rooms of depots requesting the friend- 
 less who come in on the trains to go to the homes pro- 
 vided by the society until they have secured the situa- 
 tions they desire. Only those who are familiar with 
 the dangers of metropolitan life can realize what a 
 good work is thus done, but when he does realize it 
 he says with all his heart, "Woman God's noblest 
 gift to man God bless her!" 
 
 The presence of children on trains often calls out 
 the best nature of travelers, Large numbers of chil- 
 dren travel alone, even for long distances. They are 
 usually put in charge of the conductor at their start- 
 ing place, but as officials change it is impossible for 
 them to keep track of these little waifs. 
 
 I once had a small boy on my train who was bound 
 for some distant Western state, having come all the 
 way from New England alone. He had lost both 
 
236 FORTY YEAltS ON THE BAIL. 
 
 parents, and friends had started the child off to an 
 uncle living on the Pacific slope. The little fellow had 
 a tag tied to a button-hole of his coat, on which was 
 written his own name and the name and address of 
 his uncle. It was a long and venturesome journey for 
 one so young; but the child was too innocent and 
 unworldly to think of danger, and he made himself 
 quite at home, chatting with all who spoke to him. 
 He made friends everywhere by his many winning 
 ways, and was as carefully looked after by train 
 officials and passengers as he could have been had he 
 been accompanied by any of his relatives. Kind ladies 
 saw that he was kept clean and had his hair brushed. 
 The daintiest contents of many lunch baskets were 
 given him, and he was amused in every possible way 
 by first one passenger and then another. We were 
 all sorry to have him leave us when we reached the 
 end of my run. The child was carefully placed on 
 another train by a kind gentleman, and he probably 
 reached his destination without a mishap of any kind, 
 though I have never heard of him since. 
 
 Once a brother conductor, on making his round 
 through his train after leaving a small station, found, 
 curled up in an end seat, a little flaxen-haired boy 
 who was sound asleep. The child had evidently been 
 crying, as tear-stains were on his chubby, dirty face. 
 His long curls were in a tangled mass, and his clothes, 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE RAIL. 237 
 
 though of the best quality, were soiled and torn. One 
 hand tightly grasped a toy sheep, whose wool showed 
 hard usage, and the other hand rested under the tired 
 head. 
 
 The conductor gently touched the child and the 
 little fellow woke up. 
 
 "Where are you going, my boy?" asked the 
 official, in a kindly voice. 
 
 " Going to see mamma," replied the child, rubbing 
 his eyes wide open and hugging the toy sheep closer 
 to him. 
 
 " Where is your mamma? " 
 
 " Gone off on cars with papa." 
 
 "Where do you live?" 
 
 " Up on the hill." 
 
 "Is anybody at home with you? " 
 
 " Just Mary, and she's cross and whips me." 
 
 Here an angry look came into the little face and 
 the wool of the toy sheep was firmly grasped by the 
 baby fingers. 
 
 "When will your mamma come back?" continued 
 the official, anxious to get some clue that would help 
 him to return the stray child to his friends. 
 
 " Don't know. Papa put her in a big box and 
 carried her off on the cars, and Mary says mamma will 
 never come back. But I'm going to find mamma my 
 own self and bring her home. I know she'll come if 
 I ask her." 
 
238 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 The truth flashed across the conductor's mind; 
 here was a child whose mother had died, and whose 
 father had been obliged to leave him to the care of a 
 servant while he took the dead body of his wife away 
 for burial. Not knowing what else to do, the official 
 told the little one to lie down and go to sleep again 
 and he would try to find papa for him. 
 
 At the next station a telegram was received 
 describing the child, and asking to have him put on 
 the return train at the next stopping place. 
 
 In my day I have known many brave and chival- 
 rous deeds done by travelers of the railroad, scarcely 
 a day passing that did not bring something of the 
 kind under my observation. When a conductor is on 
 the same run for a long time, his passengers become 
 his personal friends, and he knows their family griefs 
 and joys and everything else that interests them. He 
 sees little children grow into young men and maidens, 
 and often watches the progress of romances that lead 
 to wedding bells. Men form life-long friendships 
 from casual meetings on the road, and many a little 
 act of kindness has reaped a rich harvest after long 
 years. 
 
 I remember once, when on the run between Council 
 Bluffs and Chicago, we were delayed a long time by 
 snow. One of the day-coach passengers was a man 
 who was taking the dead body of his wife to the East 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE RAIL. 239 
 
 for burial. He had several little children with him, 
 and our long stops had used up his last cent. I 
 explained to the passengers the poor fellow's sad lot 
 and passed the hat. Bills and silver rained into the 
 improvised cash box, and when I had gone through 
 the train I found nearly thirty-six dollars had been 
 deposited in the hat. As I put the money into the 
 man's hand, tears streamed down his cheeks and he 
 could hardly find words to thank the donors for their 
 generosity. 
 
 At another time, when my train was delayed and 
 was three days and nights in getting to Chicago, an 
 old lady about seventy years of age was in my car. 
 H. Lee Borden, of Elgin, Illinois, was also aboard. 
 Mr. Borden is well known for his generosity and 
 benevolence wherever he goes, and to him many a 
 poor family is indebted for tons of coal and large 
 supplies of provisions. He saw the old lady eating 
 a little lunch from a basket she had with her, and 
 then quietly drew me aside saying: 
 
 " Captain, take that lady into the dining-car for 
 all her meals, and I will settle the bills." 
 
 The old lady enjoyed her fine meals hugely, and 
 never knew whom she owed for the favor. 
 
 After all, it is in the presence of sorrow, or in 
 times of danger that human nature is shown in its 
 true light. A long train starts out from the station, 
 
240 FOKTY YEAKS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 crowded with passengers, rich and poor, good and bad. 
 Perhaps a long run will be made, and little will occur 
 to show the individual traits of this great multitude, 
 except here and there a stray incident such as those I 
 have already mentioned. But let an accident occur, 
 be it ever so slight, or a panic be caused, and, as if by 
 magic, a veil seems drawn from every soul and its 
 innate characteristics will come to light. 
 
 Listening to the numberless stories of experiences 
 told by survivors of a great railroad disaster, and 
 those who first go to render them assistance, one 
 hardly knows whether to admire most the heroic deeds 
 of some, or despise the despicable acts of others. 
 There are heroes, such as one looks for only on battle- 
 fields, in that terrible hour, and there are also some 
 wretches for whom hanging would be far from 
 adequate punishment. One is glad to turn from the 
 stories of the latter to dwell only on the deeds of the 
 former. The engineer has acted nobly, and doubtless 
 has given his life in his efforts to save his train. The 
 officials have died with him, or are working with 
 might and main to alleviate the suffering of the pas- 
 sengers. Men have died in agony to save wife or 
 child; the mother has shielded her babe to the last 
 and closed her eyes in death, happy that the little one 
 is unharmed; delicately nurtured girls cast aside all 
 timidity and go to and fro among the dying and the 
 
HUMAN NATURE ON THE RAIL. 241 
 
 suffering, ministering to each with the heroism of a 
 Florence Nightingale. Even the bootblack, who had 
 been " sneakin' a ride under de trucks," when he 
 finds he can do nothing for his pal who has been 
 killed outright, manages to rescue a little baby from 
 danger into which it has fallen, and through the 
 horrors of that night he soothes it in his arms and 
 watches it as tenderly as a mother till the dawn 
 enables him to carry it to a place of safety. Men and 
 women alike set aside all thoughts of hunger, fatigue 
 or exhaustion, to give untiring assistance to the suf- 
 ferers, till the last one is aided and the last body has 
 been taken from the wrecked train, tenderly wrapped 
 in a shroud and sent afar to the desolate home that 
 awaits it. Wealth and position know naught of pre- 
 cedence here; those who suffer and those who help 
 are alike in the presence of death. 
 
 16 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 RAILROADING OF TO-DAY. 
 
 Shortly after I had left the Chicago and North- 
 Western railway I had a peculiar dream. I fancied 
 I was at the Lake Shore and Michigan Southern 
 depot, where stood a magnificent train of coaches 
 mounted in burnished gold that glistened and sparkled 
 in the bright light with dazzling splendor. As I stood 
 admiring the brilliant spectacle, John C. Gault, who I 
 thought had been appointed superintendent, came 
 along swinging a gold lantern in his hand. 
 
 " Hello, Captain," he greeted me, " you're just the 
 man I've been looking for." 
 
 " What's up?" I asked. "Anything I can do for 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes; run this train out." 
 
 " I can't do that, Mr. Gault," I answered, looking 
 at the gorgeous coaches through whose windows could 
 be seen a large number of passengers. " I don't know 
 the road." 
 
 " Nonsense," he retorted with some impatience, 
 
 " you must take it out." 
 
 242 
 
RAILROADING OF TO-DAY. 243 
 
 So I went forward to the engine, which was trim- 
 med with gold to match the coaches, and when the 
 time was up I gave the signal and off we started. But 
 we did not go far, for when I commenced to collect 
 the tickets and saw there was not a single cash fare in 
 the train of seven cars it surprised me so much that I 
 woke up. 
 
 The cars of my dream came forcibly to my mind 
 not many weeks ago, when I saw the vestibule Pull- 
 man train ready to start from the Pittsburgh and Fort 
 Wayne depot in Chicago. The cars of this train have 
 their platforms enclosed with heavy, highly polished 
 hard wood and glass doors, thus forming a continuous 
 passage from end to end of the train, and enabling 
 passengers to go from one car to another without 
 being exposed to the cold of winter, the unpleasant- 
 ness of rain or snow-storms, or to dust, smoke and 
 cinders. These cars represent the perfection of the 
 car-builders 1 art, being, in beauty of finish and in their 
 elegance, finer than anything before put on the rail for 
 public use. 
 
 On this vestibule train are all the luxuries and con- 
 veniences a millionaire could desire at home. The 
 different cars provide for him dining-room, parlor, 
 bedroom, barber-shop, dressing, smoking and reading 
 rooms, while his table is supplied with all the delica- 
 cies of the season from a well appointed kitchen, 
 
244 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 larder, and wine-cellar. Of such a modern wonder as 
 this it has been well said: " Monarchs of old had 
 their castles distributed at different parts of their 
 vast domains, so that they need not forego the luxu- 
 ries of life while visiting any portion of their empires. 
 It remained for the American to put the palace on 
 wheels and furnish the transit of royalty or of citizen- 
 kings and princes with luxury at every mile." 
 
 It seems as if nothing will ever be made more 
 nearly like the train of which I dreamed, and as I 
 stood looking at this recent triumph of car-building I 
 could not help going back in my thoughts to the little 
 cabless engine and sawed-off cars of my boyhood 
 days. 
 
 Railroading has not reached its present high state 
 of excellence by a sudden bound. Ever since I began 
 -on the road improvements have been steadily going 
 on, and while it would be impossible to make mention 
 of all, I cannot refrain from speaking of a few ways 
 in which progress has been made. 
 
 Perhaps the locomotive has in itself more evidences 
 of the wonderful onward march in railroading of the 
 past forty years than anything else connected with the 
 service. Man's genius seems materialized in the 
 " iron horse," and no one can look upon a locomotive 
 of to-day without having a feeling come over him that 
 is akin to awe. It would be impossible for me to give 
 
RAILROADING OF TO-DAY. 245 
 
 even the briefest description of the improvements 
 made in my day within the limits of these pages, so 
 many have there been. Whether art and science will 
 produce greater triumphs in this direction remains to 
 be seen, but it certainly seems as if they can go no 
 farther. 
 
 When Miller introduced the platform, coupling and 
 spring buffer that go by his name, a great step was 
 taken in advance in railroading. By these inventions 
 the dangers of hand coupling are done away with, 
 telescoping has become almost unknown, and the lia- 
 bility to derailment is greatly lessened. 
 
 In 1869 George Westinghouse patented his atmos- 
 pheric air-brake, which is now generally used in this 
 country. Each car has beneath its floor a cylinder 
 and piston; this piston acts on levers and rods to set 
 the brakes against the wheels, the brakes being con- 
 nected with the ordinary braking apparatus at" the 
 platforms of the cars. Compressed air is conveyed to 
 the cylinder by tubes leading from a reservoir or air- 
 pump at the locomotive, the engineer or fireman send- 
 ing the air to the cylinders by simply turning a valve - 
 handle. 
 
 The application of electricity to railroading has 
 been of untold advantage, and its possibilities are 
 infinite. It has already given us electric signals and 
 has provided for us the invaluable work of the train- 
 
246 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 dispatcher and telegraph, operator, who, by its assist- 
 ance, direct the movements of a multitude of trains 
 on a vast network of roads. 
 
 Track-laying is now what in the early days was 
 never dreamed of. In the olden time, rails battered so 
 much that it was necessary to have blacksmith shops 
 at intervals on the road to mend them. About eighteen 
 
 o 
 
 years ago the fish-plate came into use, which makes a 
 continuous rail, decreasing the wear and tear on ac- 
 count of the smoothness of the track. Steel rails are 
 no longer an innovation, and steel sleepers are proving 
 a happy experiment. 
 
 Very decided improvements in passenger-cars are 
 being introduced on some of the principal roads. 
 Their simplicity is always desired, as in the decrease 
 of dead weight to the paying weight a great source of 
 saving is found in operation. An improvement in the 
 lighter weight of moving trains will be another step 
 forward. Railway men complain of the weight of 
 passenger-cars as they are now built, and show by 
 figures that an engine hauls between five and six 
 pounds of dead weight for every one pound of paying 
 passenger weight, reckoned when all the seats are 
 filled. 
 
 The paper car-wheel may be mentioned as one of 
 the greatest inventions of these later days. It was 
 given to the world by B/ichard Norton Allen, of whom 
 
RAILROADING OF TO-DAY. 247 
 
 I have spoken in previous pages, and the great works 
 of the Allen Car- Wheel Company at Pullman, Illinois, 
 form one of the most interesting features of that city. 
 There the visitor may see the circular pieces of paper 
 used in the manufacture of each wheel put under a 
 pressure of a ton and a half to the square inch. 
 These wheels are considered by most people much 
 safer than any others in use, as they do not shrink 
 or spring under climatic changes, and sustain sudden 
 jars better than the old style of wheel. Thousands of 
 travelers select routes on which the Allen wheel is 
 used, in preference to any others. 
 
 The handling of freight and cattle is now done with 
 ease and dispatch, and refrigerator-cars have done 
 away with all the old difficulties in transporting per- 
 ishable articles. . Several patents have been taken out 
 on these cars, and have been used with great success. 
 Of these I know best what is known as the " Tiffany " 
 car. In this, insulation is accomplished with two dead 
 air-chambers lined with felt paper. The car has a V- 
 shaped tank overhead, running from end to end, also 
 two end tanks which receive the drip water from that 
 above, and also hold ice for use when extra refrigera- 
 tion is wanted. Each car holds about forty-five hun- 
 dred pounds of ice, and is kept at the uniform tempera- 
 ture of thirty-five degrees all the year around, being 
 made to withstand the cold of winter as well as the 
 
248 FORTY YEARS ON THE HAIL. 
 
 heat of summer. Eefrigerator-cars have revolution- 
 ized the shipping of food stuffs. They have brought 
 the cattle ranches of Texas to the doors of New York; 
 have poured the tropical fruits of Florida and Cali- 
 fornia in profusion upon the tables of the North; in 
 short, they have made the whole nation one in the 
 matter of eating, and given to the poor man what a 
 decade or two ago was only found in the homes of the 
 wealthy. 
 
 Smoking, buffet, drawing-room, boudoir, dining and 
 sleeping cars have all been added to meet the needs 
 and tastes of this enterprising age. As early as 1856 
 a mechanic by the name of Woodruff constructed the 
 first sleeping-car ever made. The coach had seats for 
 sixty passengers, and at night these seats were changed 
 into flat berths. Webster Wagner, in 1858, designed 
 and built four sleeping-cars for the New York Central 
 road, and in 1867 made his first palace car. Wood- 
 ruff, who afterward received royalty from both Wagner 
 and Pullman for infringement on his patent, died 
 worth a large fortune. Wagner also became very rich. 
 He was killed while traveling in one of his own cars 
 by a railway accident at Spuyten Duyvil, in 1882. 
 
 But for the modern luxuries of travel the world is 
 most indebted to George M Pullman and his brother, 
 A. B. Pullman. The latter was superintendent and 
 also a conductor on their cars when they were first 
 
RAILROADING OF TO-DAY. 249 
 
 made, afterward becoming general superintendent, 
 then vice-president and chief of construction. 
 
 In 1859 the Pullmans fitted up two ordinary 
 passenger coaches of the Chicago and Alton road for 
 sleeping purposes. In 1863 they began building their 
 palace cars, and assigned one called the "Pioneer" to 
 the Alton road, and another to the Chicago and 
 North- Western, naming the second " The City of 
 Dubuque." These cars excited a great deal of inter- 
 est, and though considered by many a foolish extrav- 
 agance, the managers of the Michigan Central, the 
 Chicago, Burlington and Quincy, and the Great 
 Western of Canada soon made contracts with Mr. 
 Pullman for the placing of his sleeping cars on their 
 roads. 
 
 The Pullman Palace Car Company was organized 
 in 1867. I think the first dining-car in the country 
 was run on the Chicago and North-Western railway to 
 San Francisco, in 1869, with the well-known H. M. 
 Kinsley, of Chicago, as caterer. 
 
 In May, 1880, the famous town of Pullman, ten 
 miles south of Chicago, was founded. There are 
 located the vast shops of the company, in which are 
 made cars of every description, and there also are the 
 Allen Car Wheel Works. Perhaps no one thing in the 
 world can give a better idea of what railroad interests 
 have done and can do than this model city. It was 
 
250 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 founded for making railroad cars, was built by money 
 made from railroads, and is filled with a thriving 
 population earning support in railroad industry. 
 Seven years ago the bare and open prairie existed 
 where the city of Pullman now stands. "Skilled 
 architects, landscape gardeners, civil engineers, and 
 trained artisans," says an anonymous writer, "with the 
 best machinery within the power of man's ingenuity 
 to make, together with the lavish expenditure of 
 money, have brought into being a large city, filled 
 with thousands of prosperous people, and complete in 
 all that constitutes city life in the advanced state of 
 civilization of the nineteenth century. 
 
 " In this town, which has been dedicated to the 
 work of mechanics, the higher nature of man has not 
 been forgotten. Utility and beauty have here been so 
 combined that the workingmen may acquire that taste 
 for the beautiful and orderly that makes their lives 
 brighter and happier. The car works themselves are 
 most attractive. They are built in the round-arched 
 Gothic style of architecture, and are sufficiently varied 
 to prevent monotony. The ornamentation is not 
 lavish, but is exceedingly tasteful. The homes of the 
 employees have a very pleasing appearance. They 
 are chiefly of the Queen Anne style, variously modi- 
 fied. Of course some are more pretentious than 
 others. There are large, elegant houses for the super- 
 
RAILROADING OF TO-DAY. 251 
 
 intendent and other officials. Those of a second order 
 are for the highest classes of artisans, and there are 
 still others more modest in appearance, besides great 
 flats capable of accommodating several families. But 
 no matter what may be the size and for what class 
 they are intended, all are attractive and have the same 
 pleasant environments. Evergreens and a variety of 
 trees and shrubs abound. The streets are well graded 
 and paved, and are bounded with beautiful lawns. In 
 season, foliage plants and flowers are found in great 
 profusion. In front of the shops is the artificial lake 
 with its grassy banks, upon which are disposed many 
 urns filled with tropical plants. Here the eye may 
 find delight in beautiful colors and in watching the 
 sunbeams dance upon the water; the ear may catch 
 the splash of the fountain and the melody of birds." 
 
 Among the many improvements of these later days 
 of railroading must not be forgotten the adoption of 
 the so-called standard time. When railroads were 
 chiefly east of the Mississippi, no special notice was 
 taken of the inconvenience caused by different stand- 
 ards, but as soon as great lines branched out west, 
 northwest, and southwest towards the Pacific Ocean, 
 this diversity became not only a source of annoyance, 
 but of danger. There were at least fifty-three stand- 
 ards in use by the different railroads of the country, 
 and it often happened that into a single city, which 
 
252 FORTY YEAKS ON THE HAIL. 
 
 was a converging point for ten or a dozen different 
 roads, nearly as many different standards were in use 
 by these lines. In going from New England to Wash- 
 ington six standards were observed. In 1883, the 
 system planned by W. R Allen came into use, by 
 which the whole of the United States was divided into 
 four great sections, and we now have only " Eastern," 
 "Central," "Mountain," and "Western" time, the 
 change from one to the other being an hour, and from 
 the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean the difference of 
 time being four hours. Railroad men are contem- 
 plating doing away with another old fashion, and 
 having clocks number the hours from one to twenty- 
 four, abolishing the A. M. and P. M. method, which 
 makes time tables very confusing in long runs. The 
 Canadian Pacific road adopted the twenty-four hour 
 system from the very first. 
 
 Another improvement in modern railroading is the 
 railway mail service. For this the public is chiefly 
 indebted to George B. Armstrong, who located in 
 Chicago in 1854. At the breaking out of the war he 
 was appointed assistant postmaster, and in 1862 was 
 called by President Lincoln to go to Cairo, Illinois, to 
 find the best way of forwarding a vast accumulation of 
 war mail matter, amounting to thousands of tons. 
 This he accomplished in so short a time that his ser- 
 vices were publicly acknowledged. While at Cairo 
 
RAILROADING OF TO-DAY. 253 
 
 Mr. Armstrong conceived the idea that a letter could 
 travel with the same speed as an individual. For two 
 years he revolved the scheme in his mind before ven- 
 turing to put it to a practical test. In 1864, he got 
 permission from the government to equip a car and 
 try the experiment, but as no appropriation was made 
 by Congress to defray the cost, Mr. Armstrong, rather 
 than give up the project, fitted up a car at his own 
 expense. The service proved a success, and from this 
 small beginning the system has grown to its present 
 magnitude, extending from ocean to ocean, covering 
 all lines of rail, employing thousands of postal clerks, 
 who distribute daily thousands of tons of mail matter, 
 in cars running from twenty to forty miles an hour 
 day and night, securing to all mail matter the same 
 rapidity of transit that can be attained by the indi- 
 vidual. 
 
 In another chapter I have spoken of the tickets in 
 use in the early days of railroading. It would be 
 impossible to give an account of the improvements in 
 this respect within the limits of this book, for this 
 subject alone would fill a volume. About the middle 
 of the century there was a marked change in the style 
 of tickets and a heavy increase in the number issued. 
 It was to General Ticket Agent Marshall, of the Lake 
 Shore railroad, that the idea of coupon tickets, reading 
 from point of departure to destination, first occurred. 
 
254 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 Mr. Marshall sent out a circular to the head officials 
 of other roads inviting them to a meeting, at which 
 he explained the workings of the proposed system. 
 
 " Yes, that may be a good plan," said one official, 
 " but the agent of the road selling the ticket would 
 get all the money for the whole distance traveled. 
 How is it to be divided?" 
 
 " That's so," said another official, " and suppose 
 we change our rates, what then? " 
 
 "My plan," said Mr. Marshall, " is to have a book 
 to be called the division book kept by each company, 
 in which all amounts due to other roads can be 
 entered, together with the number of tickets sold, etc. 
 At the end of the month a statement can be made 
 from each of the roads to the other, so that they can 
 see just how they stand, and if one road has sold more 
 tickets over another road than the other road has sold 
 over it, the balance can be paid to the company to 
 which it is due. It is a very simple matter." 
 
 The plan was adopted and is in existence to this 
 day, with some modifications as to detail. Before its 
 adoption the office of ticket auditor of a railroad was a 
 sinecure. Now it is one of the most important parts 
 of the machinery of a well-conducted road, with a host 
 of clerks and a library of figures. When a modern 
 railway passenger asks for a ticket over a certain 
 route comprising half a dozen roads, he takes but little 
 
RAILBOADING OF TO-DAY. 255 
 
 thought, if indeed he has any idea of the careful pre- 
 arrangement which permits of his being supplied with 
 a single ticket reading to his point of destination, no 
 matter whether it is in Maine or Florida, Oregon or 
 Arizona. The movements of the ticket agent and his 
 manipulation of the ticket stamps and punches, 
 together with the detachment of coupons and the 
 addition of "pasters," are a complete mystery to the 
 majority of travelers, even to this day when everybody 
 knows everybody's business. 
 
 Mileage tickets, as they are called in railroad 
 phraseology, have been issued in many different forms, 
 each ticket usually entitling the purchaser to travel 
 one thousand miles over the railroad by which it is 
 issued. The old style of one thousand mile tickets 
 was simply a piece of bristol-board, on which appeared 
 first the name of the railroad company, then the date of 
 issue, and the name of the person by whom the ticket 
 was to be used, followed the figure representing the 
 mileage. When a passenger presented his ticket for 
 passage, the conductor punched enough of the figures 
 to make up the full distance from starting point to 
 destination. 
 
 There were sometimes a row of halves at the top of 
 the table, but as a rule, where the passenger rode only 
 a half mile, the conductor canceled a figure represent- 
 ing a mile, and if he rode five-and-a-half miles, six 
 
256 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 were canceled, the difference always being in favor of 
 the company by whom the mileage ticket was sold or 
 presented. One thousand mile tickets were formerly 
 used chiefly by shippers and commercial travelers, to 
 whom they were sold at a reduced rate. Some of the 
 less liberal railways gave them to members of State 
 legislatures instead of annual passes, the mileage 
 tickets generally being more limited as to time. Many 
 roads, however, placed no limit on the time in which 
 the ticket was good for passage. 
 
 The first book-mileage ticket ever used in this 
 country was the invention of Ben Patrick, chief clerk 
 in the office of Ben Hitchcock, general passenger 
 agent of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy railroad, 
 about eight years ago. Patrick's ticket differed some- 
 what in style from that now in use, but it answered 
 the same purpose. 
 
 Formerly all employees above the position of ordi- 
 nary day laborers were given annual passes. Now, 
 however, only trip passes are given, except in the 
 case of the higher grades of clerks and the smaller 
 officials. The heads of departments not only get 
 annual passes over their own line, but every year 
 receive from all the railroads of the United States 
 complimentary annual tickets. The giving of passes 
 by one railroad to all the head officials of the others 
 necessitates in itself the printing of large numbers of 
 
KAILKOADING OF TO-DAY. 257 
 
 passes, but this was only a small item of the list until 
 the Inter-State law came into existence. It is said 
 that some of the eastern roads annually gave out 
 twenty-five thousand free passes. The Union Pacific, 
 according to the statement of its president, four years 
 ago gave out " free transportation " to the amount of 
 twenty-five hundred dollars a day. This was, of 
 course, computing each free passenger at full rates. 
 
 What soured the milk of human kindness with 
 respect to the issuance of free passes more than any- 
 thing, was the sale of them by their holders to scalpers 
 and others. Then, too, though passes were always 
 marked "not transferable," it often happened that 
 the same pass was used by a dozen different persons. 
 
 Land-grants may be considered among the institu- 
 tions that have been a prodigious power in railroading 
 since the middle of the century. The number of rail- 
 road land grants has been very large; some were 
 given by charter to States, some to corporations none 
 to individuals 
 
 It is estimated that there have been given to rail- 
 way corporations, mainly for the construction of trans- 
 continental lines, one hundred and thirty-five millon 
 acres. These grants were at no time a party issue. 
 
 The first land-grant made by the United States 
 government was of a million acres to the Mobile and 
 Ohio road in 1848. 
 
258 . FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 In 1851, the first land-grant charter was issued to 
 the Illinois Central Railroad Company. 
 
 In 1853, Congress passed an act authorizing a 
 survey for a trans-continental line. The State of 
 Maine granted the first charter for the building of a 
 railroad to the Pacific coast; but it was found that a 
 State charter was not potent enough, so the sanction 
 of the general government was asked. In July, 1864, 
 Congress gave the great Pacific roads their first land- 
 grant. 
 
 This liberality of the United States government 
 toward the railroads and the unexampled prosperity 
 of our nation during the years since the war, have 
 resulted in an extension of roads such as can be 
 seen nowhere else in the world. 
 
 On the first day of January, 1832, there were nine- 
 teen railroads in this country, either completed or in 
 process of construction. In 1840 the average yearly 
 building was about five hundred miles; in 1850 it had 
 increased to fifteen hundred miles; in 1860 to nearly 
 ten thousand; and in 1871 it was stated that railroad 
 enterprises requiring an outlay of $800,000,000 and 
 involving the construction of twenty thousand miles of 
 road, were in actual process of being carried out. 
 
 No comprehensive figures of railway business are 
 attainable previous to 1871. In that year the total 
 capital invested (stock and bonds) was stated to 
 
RAILROADING OF TO-DAY. 259 
 
 amount to $2,664,627,645, and forty-four thousand, 
 six hundred and fourteen miles were operated. In 
 1880 the capital invested, including funded debt, was 
 estimated at $4,897,401,997, and eighty-four thousand, 
 two hundred and twenty-five miles were operated. 
 
 The "Eailway Age" estimates that over sixty-four 
 hundred miles of new track have been laid the present 
 year, during the eight months ending September 1st 
 a record never before equaled except in 1882, when 
 seven thousand miles of road were constructed during 
 the same period. 
 
 The "Age" says it is probable the total for 1887 
 will reach twelve thousand miles, and surpass that of 
 1882 eleven thousand, five hundred and sixty-eight 
 miles now the largest on record. 
 
 What will be the record of the year 1890 it is 
 hardly possible to foretell, but judging from the work 
 being done to-day the close of the present decade will 
 show statistics that will surprise even the most san- 
 guine believer in the century's progress. 
 
 The public mind has been so .busy in carrying out 
 the great projects of these later days that it has not 
 had time to consider many of the problems in law and 
 equity springing out of our marvelous progress. 
 People have scarcely realized, until a comparatively 
 recent date, that railroading needed any governmental 
 regulation. At present no question occupies more 
 
260 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 generally the national thought. It may be regarded, 
 in fact, as the problem of to-day. 
 
 Undoubtedly no act of Congress has ever called 
 out such diverse interpretation, or undertaken to con- 
 trol interests of such vast extent, as the Inter-State 
 Commerce law which went into effect on April 5, 1887. 
 
 The subject of national regulation of common car- 
 riers took definite form in 1886, in the passage by the 
 Senate of the Cullom bill. The House refused to 
 concur in .this bill, but passed what is known as the 
 Eeagan bill. The Senate failing to concur, a confer- 
 ence committee was appointed by each body, and the 
 result was the law as it now stands. 
 
 The different sections of the bill relate to unjust 
 discriminations, providing equal facilities, long and 
 short hauls, pools, rates and their publication, con- 
 tinuous carriage, liability of carriers, action for dam- 
 ages, penalties for violation, the appointment of a 
 commission; and it further details the duties and 
 power of that commission. 
 
 " The complexities and difficulties of governmental 
 administration of railway rates," says George R. 
 Blanchard, commissioner of the Central Traffic Asso- 
 ciation, " are greater in the United States than in any 
 other country. This is caused by its greater area, 
 larger railway mileage, longer coast lines, more 
 numerous navigable lakes and rivers, diversities of 
 
KAILBOADING OF TO-DAY. 261 
 
 soil, climate and products, differences between rates 
 on high mountain gradient and level lines, the 
 rapidity of traffic development, our desire to grasp 
 foreign markets, the crudities and dissimilarities of 
 railway charters and legislation, the proximities of 
 foreign governments and carriers, and the anomalies 
 and contrarieties of state and national authority within 
 and across non-physical lines. 
 
 " It has taken half a century in insular and parlia- 
 mentary England to reach its present legal stage there, 
 and it is still incomplete and unsatisfactory. How 
 much more difficult here! " 
 
 The work of the railroad commission is still in an 
 embryonic condition, but it is not to be expected that 
 questions of such vast importance can be dealt with in 
 a brief space of time. Let the pessimist and the 
 grumbler look back over the history of our country 
 and note the difficulties with which we have coped and 
 the triumphs we have met in every epoch of our career. 
 Surely we have no reason to fear that failure awaits us 
 in this new work as our ultimate reward. 
 
 These pages contain only a brief survey of the 
 important epoch in railroading covered by the last 
 forty years, as it has come under my observation. It 
 often seems to me as I look back that the world will 
 never again see such an age, yet I know that we live 
 
262 FORTY YEARS ON THE RAIL. 
 
 in a time of wonders, and it may be that another 
 generation will see fulfilled what are only dreams with 
 us, and the advancement of the last four decades may 
 be the herald that ushers in grander progress in every 
 line of work and thought. 
 
 2 54.1 o 3 
 
.. U .i C .-..P.!!?. K .? LEY LIBRARIES 
 
 C0311E7fl77