THE IRON ROADS ADVANCE UPON LONDON 1838 AD.

A New Age of Steam, Iron, and Industry Descends Upon the Capital

THE LONDON EVENING CHRONICLES

London, England — August, 1838

Special Correspondence on the Railways of Her Majesty's Capital

There is a new sound upon the streets of London, one which threatens to become as familiar as the tolling of church bells, the rumbling of horse-drawn carriages, and the cries of the Thames watermen. It is the mighty hiss of steam, the shrill whistle of the locomotive, and the thunder of iron wheels upon iron rails. Throughout this summer of 1838, the capital of Her Majesty Queen Victoria has found itself standing upon the threshold of an extraordinary transformation. The age of the railway has arrived, and neither the wealthiest lord nor the humblest labourer shall remain untouched by its progress.

Where once the journey between London and the great manufacturing towns of England required days upon muddy roads, weary horses, and uncertain accommodations, the new iron roads promise to carry passengers and merchandise across the countryside in a fraction of that time. Great stations now rise upon the outskirts of our metropolis, and the smoke of locomotive engines mingles with the familiar coal-blackened atmosphere of the city.

At Euston Square, the London and Birmingham Railway has already established itself as one of the most ambitious undertakings in the kingdom. Under the direction of the celebrated engineer Mr. Robert Stephenson, this great enterprise proposes to join our capital to the industrious heart of Birmingham, some 112 miles distant. Since the opening of its first London section last year, travellers have come in increasing numbers to witness the extraordinary machinery and carriages that depart beneath the company's imposing works.

The railway now carries passengers northward from Euston to Denbigh Hall, near Bletchley, whilst another completed portion serves the country between Rugby and Birmingham. For the present, travellers must endure the inconvenience of transferring to horse-drawn coaches across the unfinished middle portion of the route, an interruption that has occasioned no small amount of complaint among gentlemen accustomed to comfort.

The troublesome works of the Kilsby Tunnel have delayed the final joining of the line, but the engineers assure the public that the remaining difficulties shall soon be overcome. When completed, the railway will convey its passengers directly between Euston and Birmingham's Curzon Street terminus, bringing the distant factories and workshops of the Midlands into astonishing proximity to the merchants and financiers of London.

Even the approach to Euston presents a remarkable spectacle. At Camden Town, great stationary engines and powerful ropes assist in drawing railway carriages upon the incline, whilst beyond them the locomotives undertake their journeys into the countryside. Such marvels of engineering would scarcely have been believed possible within the lifetime of many of our older citizens.

At Paddington, another great undertaking has already commenced its operations. On the fourth day of June, the Great Western Railway opened its first section to public passengers, extending from a temporary station near Bishop's Bridge Road towards Maidenhead. The enterprise is directed by that ambitious young engineer, Mr. Isambard Kingdom Brunel, whose broad iron rails have already attracted considerable discussion among men of science and commerce.

Unlike the railway to Birmingham, Mr. Brunel's design employs a wider distance between the rails, intended to provide improved speed and steadiness upon the journey. The line is ultimately planned to reach Bristol, opening new opportunities for the transportation of goods, correspondence, and passengers between London and the western counties.

Though the present Paddington establishment is modest beside the grandeur imagined for the future, merchants have already begun considering the advantages that the railway may offer. Fresh produce, cloth, manufactured articles, and parcels of every description may soon travel distances previously thought troublesome, and certain gentlemen of considerable means have reportedly begun purchasing warehouses and property near the new railway approaches.

South of the Thames, the London and Greenwich Railway continues to attract crowds of curious passengers and spectators. Its extraordinary elevated pathway of brick arches stretches eastward from London Bridge through Bermondsey and onward to Deptford, carrying carriages above the streets and workshops below.

The railway has already demonstrated the popularity of this novel form of urban conveyance. From their elevated seats, passengers may observe a changing prospect of crowded houses, manufactories, church towers, yards, and the distant masts of vessels upon the Thames. The sight of a steam carriage passing high above the rooftops remains sufficient to draw children into the streets and bring workingmen from their tasks.

The final extension into Greenwich remains under construction, the necessary crossing at Deptford Creek having presented difficulties to the engineers. Nevertheless, it is confidently anticipated that the railway shall reach its intended destination before the year's conclusion. When accomplished, it will provide a convenient alternative to the riverboats and coaches that presently convey so many Londoners towards Greenwich.

Beneath the countless arches of this remarkable viaduct, another transformation is already taking place. Storekeepers, craftsmen, and merchants have begun examining the usefulness of these sheltered spaces for storage and trade. Yet some local residents complain that the great brick structures cast unwelcome shadows upon their homes, and that the railway brings noise, smoke, and strangers into neighbourhoods that once enjoyed a quieter existence.

To the southwest, the London and Southampton Railway has opened its first great section from Nine Elms to Woking Common. Passenger services commenced in May, and the enterprise is already drawing the interest of those who desire improved communication with the southern counties and, eventually, the important port of Southampton.

The station at Nine Elms, situated upon the southern bank of the Thames, is a considerable undertaking, although somewhat removed from the fashionable and commercial heart of London. Passengers arriving there must continue their journeys by carriage or river conveyance if they desire to reach the City or the western districts.

The proposed railway promises future advantages to maritime commerce, particularly for those engaged in the movement of imported goods, provisions, and other valuable merchandise. Several shipping concerns have expressed great interest in the enterprise, for the prospect of conveying goods rapidly between London's markets and the southern ports may well alter established trading practices.

Yet not all citizens greet these iron roads with equal enthusiasm. Proprietors of coaching establishments, stablemasters, and those whose livelihoods depend upon the ancient turnpike roads regard the coming of the locomotive with understandable apprehension. Others question the wisdom of placing so many souls within carriages drawn at astonishing speeds by engines whose boilers contain great quantities of boiling water and steam.

There are also concerns of a less ordinary character.

In certain taverns near Euston and London Bridge, railway porters have exchanged peculiar tales of gentlemen who inquire not after passenger accommodations, but after the movement of private goods, sealed trunks, and locked carriages at unusual hours. One account speaks of a wealthy stranger who sought arrangements for several exceptionally heavy travelling chests, demanding that they remain unopened and unexamined from departure until delivery.

Another report suggests that certain properties adjoining the railway approaches have changed ownership through agents who refuse to disclose the names of their employers. Such business may be entirely innocent, although London has never lacked persons who prefer discretion to publicity.

Among the city's fashionable evening society, there is growing speculation that the railways may bring advantages beyond those immediately apparent to ordinary travellers. A gentleman possessing wealth, influence, and suitable arrangements might maintain residences in several distant cities whilst remaining closely informed of events within the capital. Messages, investments, valuable possessions, and trusted servants may travel with a speed that no previous generation could have imagined.

The magistrates and railway companies would do well to remember that every convenience offered to an honest merchant might equally serve the interests of a less reputable individual.

For now, the locomotive remains an object of wonder. Thousands gather to witness its departure, children wave from bridges, and respectable citizens speak with excitement of journeys that might soon carry them farther than their fathers travelled in an entire lifetime.

As the summer nights descend upon London, the distant glow of engine furnaces may be seen beyond the crowded streets, whilst hammers continue their labour upon the unfinished iron roads. The railway companies promise prosperity, opportunity, and the triumph of British engineering.

Whether these promises shall be fulfilled remains to be seen.

For London is an ancient city, governed as much by tradition, wealth, and influence as by the laws of Parliament. Its streets have witnessed kings rise and fall, merchants acquire fortunes, and entire families disappear from memory. Now, with the arrival of the iron road, the distances that once separated these interests are rapidly vanishing.

One might reasonably wonder whether the coming of the railway shall merely hasten the journeys of ordinary men, or whether it shall also grant new freedoms to those mysterious figures of London's nocturnal society, whose business is conducted behind shuttered windows and whose names rarely appear in respectable company.

The age of steam has begun. Its engines answer to no ancient custom, its rails acknowledge no noble boundary, and its arrival may yet disturb powers that have remained undisturbed for centuries.

— From Our Correspondent in London, August 1838