Joseph Locke Read online

  We are fortunate in having a detailed description of the line in The Book of the Grand Junction by Thomas Roscoe, published in 1839. The title page includes the inscription, directly beneath the author’s name ‘And the Resident Engineers’, so one can be reasonably certain that the technical information is accurate. The book is primarily written to give travellers on the line a detailed account of all the places of interest they will pass along the way, and occasionally throws up surprises. Today, one can hardly imagine Runcorn being described as ‘the little town and bathing place.’ Various stately homes are described, one of which was the home of James Watt Jnr., son of the famous steam engine pioneer. There is a slight irony in this, as James Watt Snr. had resolutely opposed all attempts to use high-pressure steam. As a result, when his Cornish agent William Murdoch built a model of a steam carriage to go on the roads, he was told peremptorily to give up his endeavours or find another job. He stuck with the job, and now his son could see the chance the family had missed to be at the head of the revolution in steam transport. However, he had a revenge of sorts. In the original Act it was specified that the line could not pass through his estates without his permission. In spite of the best efforts of the Company to come to terms with him he steadfastly refused to co-operate. The Company made the best of it, and the Chairman was able to report with some glee that it had all worked out well when they had looked for a new route, as the chairman, John Moss, wrote in December 1834:

  In this they have succeeded beyond their expectations; they have come to terms with nearly the whole of the land-owners between the points of deviation and the Town of Birmingham by which all chance of opposition is removed. The line, though longer than the original one by about a mile, is preferable in all other respects being less expensive and affording better levels besides avoiding a tunnel under the Town.

  The main interest, as far as the story of Joseph Locke is concerned, lies not so much with wrangles over land purchase, as with the details of the engineering features along the way.

  The first structure of importance to be described was the River Rea viaduct at the Birmingham end of the line. It makes an impressive start, a structure of stone and blue brick, a thousand foot long and carried on twenty-eight arches. Designed by Locke, it was carefully planned as Roscoe explained: ‘Each pier is embedded at the foundation in a mass of concrete, consisting of gravel and quick lime of two feet thickness, with a central cast iron pipe and grate through which all the surface water is carried from the road.’ No expense was spared and high quality stone was brought from quarries at Long Eaton in Derbyshire. This was followed by a long, curved embankment standing 12-13ft high.

  Further along, the River Tame was diverted to make way for the tracks and the great Aston embankment was constructed, containing an estimated 300,000 cubic yards of material. It was to prove one of the most difficult undertakings on the line:

  Several accidents occurred in the course of raising the embankment, which had well nigh frustrated all the plans of the Engineer, and effectually prevented its completion by the time determined upon for the opening of the line to the public. The foundation of the embankment which skirted the old course of the river, consisted of deposits left from the time of the stream, to the depth of many feet, which being too weak to maintain its weight, in many instances gave way, and were forced out and, in one case, the embankment sank nearly the depth of eight feet in the course of an hour.

  Eventually, the workers managed to get down to firm ground and the great bank was stabilised.

  Locke used the technique known as ‘cut and fill,’ pioneered by the canal engineers, and seen at its most dramatic on the main line of what is now the Shropshire Union Canal. The material excavated in the deep cuttings through rising ground would be used to build embankments across the low valleys. A cutting near Newton was 80ft below the surface at its deepest point, and 200,000 cubic yards were removed. Roscoe gave a rather poetic description of what work on a great cutting involved:

  By day the bright sunbeams, broken by the numerous angles which each successive advance presented to its linear ray, lay scattered in shining fragments upon the sloping banks, cheering the toil-worn labourers, - by night the hill literally swarmed with moving bodies, lighted to their work like torches flickering from side to side, and from place to place. Creaking cranes, dragging up by ropes and pulleys the laden barrows with their guides, and again slowly securing their descent down the almost perpendicular banks - the clatter of continued footsteps, the heavy sound of spade and pickaxe, and the busy hum of toiling men, completed a scene of unexampled animation.

  What is being described here is a barrow run, work rather dreaded by the navvies. They had to balance the loaded barrows as they were hauled up the steep plank walkways by the cranes, and then run back down with the empties. The planks would be greasy with wet clay and, if a man slipped, the best he could do was throw himself to one side and the barrow to the other to avoid the whole load crashing down on top of him.

  The most imposing structures on the whole line were two viaducts, both crossing the weaver as it inconveniently went through a great loop, right in the path of the line. The first at Vale Royal had five arches, each with a 63ft span and 20ft high, but the second at Dutton was far grander. It had twenty arches and rose 60ft above the river and took 3 years to build at a cost of £60,000. Roscoe described it as ‘most extraordinary and magnificent’ and the finest to be built ‘since the days of the Romans’, a difficult claim to justify.

  There were other problems to face along the way. At two points the line had to cross an area of peat bog, but these must have seemed minor obstacles to a man who had once been involved in conquering Chat Moss. At the larger of the two bogs he used the same tactic as that employed by Stephenson of laying down brushwood. Another section of the line demonstrated Locke’s confidence in the development of the steam locomotive. One obstacle he had to overcome was the hill from Crewe to Madeley with a total rise of nearly 400 feet. This would have seemed an impossible obstacle to the first railway engineers, who would probably have felt it necessary to construct an incline and stationary engine. Joseph decided to meet it head on, even though it involved a stretch of 3 miles at a gradient of 1 in 177. It must have seemed folly to some at the time, but he was to go on to build lines with even stiffer climbs in the future.

  Crewe itself had not yet developed, but unlike watt, Lord Crewe of nearby Crewe Hall welcomed the arrival of the railway. Thanks to his influence Crewe station was first class, even though when built no one had much reason to alight there, and he built a hotel in anticipation of future traffic. The Crewe Arms still exists and has a handsome façade of brick with stone mouldings round windows and doors and topped with a balustrade. Externally it has changed very little, but the interior has been modernised, though it does still contain some original features including a magnificent, carved-marble fireplace. The growth of Crewe as a major junction and railway town will be dealt with in a later chapter.

  Rather surprisingly, one of the features that gave the most trouble was an aqueduct that had to be built to carry a short arm of the Birmingham Canal over the tracks. Cast-iron aqueducts had by this date been built on a number of different canals, and the technology was well understood. Yet when water was let in, the structure leaked so badly that it had to be drained, sealed off and almost completely rebuilt. It would have seemed a minor work in the planning stage, yet it was the one thing that delayed the opening, if not for very long.

  One aspect of the line that Roscoe did not comment on himself was the track. It was here that Locke proved to be innovative and was to make a major advance. The Liverpool & Manchester had initially been laid with fish-belly rails, so-called because the underside was curved. They were comparatively light at just 35lb per yard, though the weight of rails on the line had to be increased in later years, and were mounted on stone sleeper blocks, following the pattern set on earlier tramways and on the Stockton & Darlington. Locke knew that the stone blocks we
re easily moved, causing the lines to slip out of gauge. He introduced transverse wooden sleepers and a very different type of rail. This was double-headed, looking in cross section like a dumb-bell. This was keyed into iron chairs using hardwood wedges, with each rail sloping slightly inwards towards the middle of the track. The original idea was that the rails could be reversed as the top became worn, but this never worked in practice. Locke was later to be called in to give evidence to a special committee set up by the London & North Western Railway in 1843 to give evidence on the best way of laying track and the best type of rail. By this date he was recommending rails weighing 85lb per yard. Other techniques and designs would be tried over the years, including longitudinal sleepers used on Brunel’s Great Western and flat-bottomed rails, designed by Charles Vignoles, that were to prove very popular in North America. But it was the double-headed rail set on transverse sleepers that became the norm for British railway tracks and the establishment of this system is by no means the least of Locke’s engineering achievements.

  The Grand Junction opened with a comparatively modest ceremony on 4 July 1837, with two trains, each of three coaches, all named: one leaving from Manchester with Celerity,Umpire and Swallow, the other from Liverpool with Triumph, Greyhound and Statesman. At Newton Junction, the trains were united to be hauled for the rest of the journey by a suitably bedecked locomotive, Wildfire. A significant addition to the inaugural train was a pair of mail coaches, one from each city. Mail coaches had first been introduced on the Liverpool & Manchester and offered railway companies a potentially valuable source of revenue. Unfortunately the Grand Junction appears to have made a rather poor deal with the Post Office initially and had to renegotiate it. The opening ceremony passed without incident, which must have been a great relief to Locke after the traumatic experience of the Liverpool & Manchester opening and his all too direct involvement in the death of Huskisson.

  The directors must have been delighted to have decided to stay with Locke, even though when the Chairman issued his first report early in 1838, he was careful to include a note of gratitude for the initial work carried out by Stephenson. There is, however, no doubt that they were well aware that it was Joseph Locke’s scrupulous care in defining the work and issuing contracts that had resulted in a railway being constructed on time and at the comparatively modest cost of £20,000 per mile – less than half that of the contemporary London & Birmingham, though the latter contained far more taxing engineering challenges and land purchase had been expensive. The first year after the opening was, however, not without its problems.

  A bridge collapsed near warrington, blocking the line and passengers had to leave the train and walk across planks to join a train on the far side of the blockage to finish their journey: not very good for customer relations. Soon after that there was a more serious event. Frost broke up the clay round the short tunnel at Preston Brook leading to a partial collapse and once again temporary measures had to be taken to move passengers from one train to another. These were, however, minor incidents that were quickly dealt with and did nothing to reduce the popularity of the line. To the great satisfaction of the shareholders the line showed immediate profit and paid handsome dividends of never less than 10 per cent. Small wonder that the Chairman in that first report was even more fulsome on the subject of Joseph Locke than he had been on George Stephenson:

  The execution of the works, with all the variety of detail belonging to it, had devolved wholly upon Mr. Locke, the Engineer in Chief, who has devoted himself to the discharge of his duties, responsible duties, with an ability, zeal, and above all, an untiring energy which have fully justified the implicit confidence which has been reposed on him on all occasions; and it is gratifying to relate that he has earned for himself, in the service of this Company a reputation which will confer upon him those advantages which are the sure reason of professional distinction.

  Indeed, he had earned respect in many quarters, respect that would ensure him a successful career. This was just as well, as he was to have more than himself to consider in the future: he was now a married man.

  Chapter Five

  DOMESTIC INTERLUDE

  The story begins while Locke was still at work on the Liverpool & Manchester Railway. While living in Liverpool he continued the process of self-education, in his own words ‘to make up the shortcomings of linguistic training at Barnsley Grammar School.’ He attended lectures at the Philosophical Institution in Liverpool, where his enthusiasm attracted the attention of the eminent historian William Roscoe. He gave Locke one of his books in 1827 and received a formal reply, indicating that young Joseph was taking his ‘linguistic training’ seriously: ‘I acknowledge with gratitude the presentation of your late work, and I am sure that I shall divine those advantages which the enlightened observations contained in it are calculated to produce. It gives me great pleasure in being thought worthy of your kind attention.’

  Roscoe, as well as being a historian, was also a radical and, living in Liverpool, saw at first hand the evils of the slave trade. The anti-slavery poem The Dying Negro was printed in Liverpool by John McCreery and Roscoe became a patron of the printer, entrusting him with the printing of his major work, a life of Lorenzo de Medici. McCreery was born in Ireland in 1768, set up in Liverpool, but later tried to make a living in London. It was not a very successful venture and he returned to Liverpool. He was more than just a printer; he was a great enthusiast for the craft of print and celebrated his craft in verse. He wrote and published a long poem, The Press, in which he extolled fine craft printing and decried cheaper methods, early forms of mass production. He was particularly enthusiastic about the work of the printer John Baskerville, the designer of the elegant typeface that has his name: he was less enthusiastic about his hometown of Birmingham.

  When Birmingham – for riots and for crimes

  Shall meet the long reproach of future times

  Then shall she find amongst our honor’d race

  One name to save her from entire disgrace.

  His passion for the art of printing was not just celebrated in the words he wrote, but the whole lengthy poem was intended to display his own typographical gifts. It was embellished by illustrations by the master of woodcuts, Thomas Bewick. The words may be less than inspiring, but the production was magnificent. He was clearly a printer who had mastered his craft, but unfortunately was less successful in managing his business affairs. He relied very heavily on Roscoe’s patronage.

  He not only wrote for publication, but also provided verses for his own family, including a poem for his younger daughter, Phoebe, on her birthday:

  A Father’s love to thee inclines,

  And sends thee, babe, these birth-day lines;

  But oh! What can I wish thee more

  Than blessings I have called before?-

  May still, to thee, this happy day

  The purest joys of life convey!

  And time extend thee length of years,

  Blest with the worth that life endears!

  With gentle soul and heart sincere

  Be only to thyself severe.

  Yet it appears that friends and family thought Phoebe was unlikely to live a long and happy life, for she was plagued by ill health. It is uncertain what was exactly wrong with her, but Joseph Locke’s nephew described her as ‘a partially paralysed invalid.’

  She must, however, have had her attractions. When Joseph was introduced to her father by Roscoe, he would no doubt have been pleased to meet a meticulous craftsman, but it was the daughter who soon became the main attraction for his visits. At this stage in his career, while still a lowly assistant engineer, there was no question of his being able to propose marriage. But two events changed their relative situations dramatically.

  In 1831, McCreery took his wife and his two daughters, Sarah and Phoebe, to Paris. Early the next year, there was an outbreak of cholera in the city and McCreery was one of the many victims. The grieving women returned to England and he was buried in
Kensal Green cemetery in London. The death of the father did nothing to diminish Joseph’s love of Phoebe. We know little about the young woman, but if she was already showing signs of serious ill health, there must have been a great deal in her character to appeal to the young engineer. Her background was cultured and it is clear from the little poem quoted above that she had a loving father. The courtship seemed destined to go on for a long time, but then Locke’s situation changed dramatically when he was employed by the Grand Junction. In the autumn of 1833 he was able to record in a letter that ‘The directors have given me a salary of £800 a year, besides about £200 for expenses: this is beyond my expectations in every way.’ It was more than enough to clear the way for marriage, and the wedding took place in 1835. They were a young couple, he was twenty-eight and she was twenty-two. Phoebe’s mother and sister moved to Richmond, Surrey, to be near to them as they set up house in the London area.

  Joseph’s biographer Devey noted that in the previous year Joseph had been far from his usual energetic self. ‘Whether it was that stress had caused him momentarily to relax his previous efforts, or that the opposition which he met with from his chief had somewhat disenchanted and disgusted him, certain it is that a most intimate friend and acute observer noticed about this period symptoms of slackened energy.’ It is not too surprising to find him depressed by the breakdown in relationship with the man who had been his mentor and who he had so admired. How serious his depression was will never be known, but what is certain is that marriage lifted him out of it. It may have been partly due to his improved circumstances, but Devey suggests that a lot of the improvement was due to Phoebe. ‘He had fortunately become united with one who was as prompt in spurring his ambitions as in solacing his fatigue.’ They remained a happy couple until his death when, against all expectations, Phoebe survived him.