Young Locke was to divide his time between work and study. After the stultifying life as a clerk and part-time coalman, the young man must have appreciated that this was the opportunity to make a place for himself in the world. He threw himself into both the factory work and his studies with enthusiasm. We have one account of Joseph from those days, from Thomas Tate who taught him maths:
I first saw Mr. Locke at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, about the year 1823. He was a pupil of Mr. George Stephenson’s and was occupied during the working hours of each day on his duties at the locomotive manufactory. He was a very active youth, and fond of athletic exercises, in which he excelled; but the chief part of his leisure was devoted to mathematics, and I was so struck with the energy with which he pursued his studies, his quickness of comprehension and indomitable perseverance and I foretold at that early period that he would take a leading part in the profession for which he was destined.
An anonymous writer, who knew him in those days, noted that ‘he worked hard, was a quick, determined student, and an excellent swimmer.’
As an apprentice he would learn by experience rather than by formal lessons, but would also be something of a dogsbody, expected to do anything and everything that was demanded of him. There was, however, an unexpected change at Newcastle. Exactly what happened has never been clear, but Robert Stephenson seems to have had some sort of quarrel with his father as a result of which, in 1824, he set sail for South America to work as engineer for a mining company in Mexico. In one sense, it was a loss to Joseph who had become very friendly with Robert, but it also presented him with an opportunity. Alfred Austin, in his autobiography, mentions a manuscript of a memoir written by Joseph but never completed. In the manuscript as described by Austin, Joseph had written that the absence of Robert ‘helped him all the more to acquire an early knowledge of the practical parts of his profession of Civil Engineer.’
This suggests that Joseph was no longer spending all his time in the works, but was now getting the opportunity to get out in the field to learn the rudiments of surveying. According to Austin, it was at about this time that Joseph was taken on as an official assistant to George Stephenson ‘at a salary then deemed exceptionally handsome’. In fact, although he was now an assistant, it is clear from the official document of agreement dated 11 June 1825 that he was still a trainee:
George Stephenson undertakes to employ the said Joseph Locke for two years from the date hereof agrees to pay him an annual salary of eighty pounds in sterling and also to teach and instruct him in the Business of an Engineer as now practised by the said George Stephenson.
Nevertheless, we do know that in 1825, while still a trainee and still under 20 years old, he was given the task of overseeing the construction of a tramway from Black Fell Colliery to the Tyne. It was part of what was originally an 11½ mile route serving the Grand Allies collieries, but this section was just 5½ miles. Nevertheless, it was not a straightforward line, as it required three rope-worked inclines to overcome changes in level. In these trucks were hauled up and down the slopes by stationary steam engines. The line had originally been laid out by John Buddle, a highly successful mining engineer, but the scheme had later been revised by Stephenson, who was responsible for the overall planning of the route. Joseph’s job would have been that of the Resident Engineer, taking responsibility for the day-to-day building work. It was a great responsibility for such a young man, but Stephenson could not really take care of things himself. He was more than fully occupied making the final arrangements for the opening of the Stockton & Darlington. The Black Fell line was eventually to be part of the Bowes Railway and the inclines remained in use well into the second half of the twentieth century, and part of the system has been preserved as a unique, surviving example of this type of early railway operation. The line was intended for use by locomotives, but when it opened in January 1825 it was worked by horses. It was to be another year before the first locomotive had been delivered. Locke, meanwhile, with his colliery line completed, had to be found other work. It seems it was not always forthcoming. George Stephenson wrote to Newcastle on 2 March 1826 complaining about the situation, but at the same time indicating the high regard with which he now had for the young man:
Thompson has behaved very badly to Joseph – he said he had no work for him as soon as he got plenty of water – I had him 3 weeks at Chester Engines assisting Robert in making the joints – I have him now at Walker making soda for Mr. Losh … he is also very attentive at school and gets forward very well – he is now a very good arithmetician and is at present learning Mensuration at which he makes good progress.
Losh was William Losh of the Walker ironworks in Newcastle, with whom Stephenson had developed the new, improved type of rail.
While Joseph had been kept busy with his short colliery line, the Stockton & Darlington was nearing completion. It was officially opened on 27 September 1825 and thousands turned out for the occasion. It was obviously an important event, but in its essentials it was still a colliery line, if on a grander scale than any other. The main business was conveying coal. Rails were still mounted on stone-sleeper blocks as, although it was intended for use by locomotives, passengers travelled in a special coach with flanged wheels, hauled by horses. The rows of blocks allowed the space between to be kept free for their hooves. There is no evidence that Stephenson thought very carefully about the gauge, the distance between the rails, but simply built the line to the same dimensions as his earlier colliery lines with which he was familiar. This resulted in a gauge of 4ft 8½ inches. Was this the ideal gauge for a railway run by locomotives? Whether it was or not, it was destined to become the standard gauge for Britain’s rail network, and it remains so to this day.
Major civil engineering works were avoided to a large extent by the use of inclines, along which traffic was moved by stationary steam engines and cable haulage, to cope with hilly country, as on the Bowes Railway. The earliest locomotives were still comparatively slow and cumbersome and not especially reliable. Things were about to change, for George Stephenson was already involved in a new and far more ambitious project that was to revolutionise the world of railways and was to prove a turning point in the career of Joseph Locke.
Chapter Three
THE LIVERPOOL AND MANCHESTER RAILWAY
While Stephenson was busy with the Stockton & Darlington, and Joseph was occupied with his colliery line, a far greater scheme was being proposed across the country in Lancashire: a railway to join the rapidly developing port of Liverpool to Manchester, the commercial heart of the cotton industry. Stephenson was, however, involved from the start. The man behind the proposal was William James of Henley-in-Arden in Warwickshire who had inherited a considerable fortune and established himself as a successful land agent. He was an early enthusiast for railways and, after a meeting with Stephenson, promised to help promote the sale of Killingworth-type locomotives. He visited Liverpool in 1822 and saw that there was an ideal opportunity to promote a line to Manchester. He gained the financial support of a local businessman, James Sanders, who in turn recruited two prominent politicians to the cause, George Canning and William Huskisson. James now set about surveying the possible line. He met with fierce opposition from many local landowners, particularly those with shares in the local canals and also came across a very real physical obstacle that lay across the path of the proposed route, Chat Moss. This was a boggy morass of black, oozy soil that could scarcely support a man’s weight.
James persuaded Stephenson to allow his son Robert to join him in the survey team and they seem to have had a good relationship. But things did not go well. James’ enthusiasm for the railway led him to neglect his other interests and he was declared bankrupt. The Liverpool & Manchester committee wrote to him in 1824 to tell him that he was no longer needed and that George Stephenson had been invited to take on the job of Chief Engineer. The letter ended somewhat ingenuously: ‘I am quite sure that the appointment of Stephenson will under all circumstances be agreeable
to you.’ It seems more than likely that it was very disagreeable. L.T.C. Rolt in his biography of George and Robert Stephenson suggests that this may have been the event that led to the quarrel between father and son, and that Robert was aggrieved, feeling his father had taken advantage of an old friend. Nevertheless, George Stephenson was now the man in charge.
The problems of surveying had not gone away and Stephenson was now a very busy man indeed, with commitments to railway companies across the country. When Robert left for South America he came to rely more and more on Joseph Locke to act as his assistant. These commitments made it impossible for Stephenson to give the Liverpool & Manchester his full attention and he had to rely on others to carry out much of the survey work unsupervised. When Parliament came to consider the Bill in 1825, the opposition mounted a fierce assault on the engineer, led by their attorney, Alderson. Stephenson later reported: ‘I was not long in the witness box before I began to wish for a hole to creep out to.’ As the cross examination proceeded it became increasingly clear that the engineer had not examined the work carefully: he did not know exactly where the base line had been set on which the levels were based, nor had he checked the levels himself – and had reluctantly to admit that they might be inaccurate. He had estimated the cost of a bridge over the Irwell without even being able to say how many arches it would contain. And so it went on. In his summing up, Alderson referred to the plan as ‘this most absurd scheme’ but reserved his most stinging criticism for Stephenson: ‘I say he never had a plan – I believe he never had one – I do not believe he is capable of making one’ and he ended, ‘he is either ignorant or something else which I will not mention.’
The Bill was lost and George Stephenson’s reputation had suffered a severe blow. While all this was going on, Joseph Locke was kept busy on the other railway projects. He found time, while back in Newcastle, to write to his friend Robert Stephenson after the disastrous court case on 24 November 1825. It appears that while the father was having a miserable time in England, his son was not much happier in Mexico. Joseph tried to cheer him up and lift ‘the melancholy’ that had settled over him. Surely, he said, in ‘the extent of country which you must see, there must be some objects to create pleasure.’ He obviously felt that this was not perhaps as helpful as it might have been in lessening Robert’s gloom. ‘I might have given further scope to my rallying imagination, and in the most brilliant colours, painted to you my present feelings. But alas I am unqualified with such godlike gifts.’ He then went on to describe his own recent experiences:
Since writing to you I have been busily engaged levelling and surveying a proposed line of Railway from Leeds to Hull a distance of 50 miles. This plan is now finished and our directors have fixed not to apply to Parliament until the next sessions but one; about 38 miles is nearly a perfect level and the remaining 12 will require 3 permanent Engines. I have been 8 or 9 months engaged in this survey and have spent my time very comfortably. Amid all the gay scenes which my Wildness led me into I still remember’d you, and the happiness I should have felt to have been with you – but however whilst surveying what do you think I did? Only what others have done – fell in love! And (you may be sure) with one of the most enchanting creatures under Heaven, and my only regret is that we have finished surveying in that neighbourhood.
Since finishing that line I have been levelling one between Manchester and Bolton for which we are going to Parliament next sessions, and I trust the levels will be found to be correct. No doubt but you would hear of this inaccuracy of the Manchester & Liverpool levels which has affected the interest of your Father very much: we must endeavour by our future attention to regain that opinion which we have of late lost.
The manufactory here is quite metamorphosed into a place quite beyond your conception.
The opening of the Darlington Railway has made an impression on the Public which has gain’d your father much popularity.
Having been so much from home this year I cannot give you any home news therefore you must excuse me for not giving you any. Your father and I have been examining the country from here to Hexham for the Carlisle Railway. Hoping to hear from you the first opportunity, believe me my Robert, Your ever faithful Friend,
Joseph Locke.
This long letter makes several interesting points. Firstly, it gives an indication of just how busy the young man was at this time and how much responsibility he had been given. Secondly, that he was behaving like many young men given their freedom from supervision and had started chatting up the local girls: the love affair did not last beyond his stay in the district. Thirdly, it gives an indication of the strong ties that were developing between Joseph and the elder Stephenson. Finally, it hints at just how much Stephenson had lost when the Manchester & Liverpool bill had been rejected. For though the committee intended to try again later, they no longer required his services.
The association with the highly prestigious Liverpool & Manchester appeared to be over as far as the Stephenson camp were concerned. New engineers were appointed, the Act was obtained in 1826 and everything seemed in order. Interestingly, although locomotives were specifically mentioned, it was still referred to as a ‘Railway or Tramroad’. But the two brothers, George and John Rennie, who had carried out the new survey with the assistance of their own appointee, Charles Vignoles, now started to create difficulties. There needed to be an appointee to take responsibility for construction of the line, and George Stephenson was again suggested by the committee, along with another very distinguished engineer, John Urpeth Rastrick. The Rennies objected to both and it seemed as if the Rennie tail was trying to wag the committee dog and the dog objected. The end result was that the Rennies had to accept the committee’s choice. There was to be more shuffling of names, with Josias Jessop, son of the famous canal engineer, briefly brought in as consultant engineer. George Stephenson was to be the working engineer, looking after the everyday running of the works. It was an unlikely compromise and soon Jessop and Stephenson were at loggerheads and, when the Company backed the latter, Jessop resigned, the Rennies withdrew and Stephenson was now the man in sole charge of operations, though he still had the Rennie appointee, Vignoles, as his assistant. That did not last for long. Vignoles had his own version of what went wrong that he set out in a letter of 14 January 1827, starting with not always agreeing with the great man. He then added: ‘I also plead guilty to having neglected to court Mr. S’s favour by crying down all other engineers, especially those in London.’
Vignoles had certainly hit on a facet of Stephenson’s character, his distrust of London experts. Earlier in his career he had entered a competition to design a safety lamp for use in coal mines. The contest was famously won by Sir Humphry Davy and the Davy safety lamp remains in use. But Stephenson also designed a successful lamp, which was widely used, and a petition was raised in the northeast to reward The Liverpool and Manchester Railway 29 him appropriately. Davy was infuriated, declaring it was impossible that a mere miner could compete with a qualified scientist like himself and that it was all a fraud. This, coupled with his mauling by Alderson in the House of Commons and his disagreement with the two Rennies, all added to his distrust of professional experts and London experts in particular. This was good news for Joseph Locke, for he was just the sort of man of whom the engineer approved. George had worked alongside his father William Locke and Joseph was no academic, having had little more rudimentary education than George himself. He had learned practical skills on the job and shown himself a willing and enthusiastic pupil. He was to be duly rewarded.
While Stephenson was grappling with Parliament and the Liverpool & Manchester committee, Locke was employed as engineer for the Canterbury & Whitstable Railway, known locally for many years as the Crab & Winkle. The idea for the line was once again initiated by William James, but it was George Stephenson who was to be responsible for its planning. Although the two places are only 9 miles apart, the land in between had a rise of 200 feet and the direct route would have invo
lved gradients far beyond the capabilities of locomotives at that time. So instead, there were to be inclines, worked by stationary engines, at either side of the summit, which was to be cut through by the 828-yard-long Tyler’s Hill tunnel. The Act, passed in June 1825, also described it as a ‘Railway or Tramroad’, with rather more justification than in the case of the Liverpool & Manchester, and Stephenson had even originally suggested that it would be more sensible to work it using horses. But the committee wanted a steam locomotive and an engine Invicta was eventually supplied by the Stephenson works.
The initial costs were estimated at £29,400 by another of Stephenson’s assistants, John Dixon. Once the Act had been approved, Joseph moved down to take charge. It was scarcely a complex line, single track and running from Whitstable harbour for a little over 6 miles to a village outside Canterbury. Nevertheless, the money ran out before work was completed, largely because tunnelling proved far more expensive than expected. It may have been this experience that began Locke’s dislike of tunnels in general, and he tried to avoid them as much as possible. Tunnelling may have been new as far as railway engineers were concerned, but the techniques had been developed over more than half a century of canal building in Britain, culminating in such immense works as the 5415-yard-long Standedge tunnel on the Huddersfield Canal. The railway tunnel was comparatively shallow, just 65 feet below the surface, so should have presented few technical problems. Joseph must, however, have been highly gratified, when in March 1827, the local paper, the Kent Herald, praised the accuracy of the engineer’s calculations, finding the bores driven from each end met in the middle, the alignment being only out by one inch. Congratulations were a little premature: just a month later part of the roof collapsed and one man was literally carted off to hospital ‘covered in blood’. Joseph did not stay for the completion of the work in 1830, called away to more urgent work, but he had the satisfaction of knowing that he had been the engineer for a railway that would have the honour of being the first public railway to run a passenger service with a steam locomotive in April 1830.
Joseph Locke Page 3