So it looks like Melbourne might be getting some more elevated rail. I’ll mostly keep out of the debate as to whether it’s a good idea or not,1 and instead will note that elevated rail is pretty clever. Getting trains out of the way of roads is safer and much more efficient, but mostly, I think I have to marvel a little at the structure that can carry tonnes of moving steel at high speeds (or moderate speeds, this is Melbourne, after all), even under the threat of constant vibration. As a bonus, the space underneath can even be utilised for parks or even small businesses like cafes and bars.
Whilst the London-Greenwich Railway (LGR) was the first passenger railway, it was not the first railway to take passengers. There are a number of contenders for this particular honour, but what is remarkable about early railways was that they were almost universally designed for freight, with passenger cars as almost an after thought. This is a little odd, as almost universally the demand for passenger services on these lines far exceeded what was predicted. Apparently the idea that people would want to get somewhere in rather a hurry did not occur to rail’s early proponents. What marks the London-Greenwich Railway as unique, however, is that it was the first railway to be solely constructed for passengers.
Credit: Barry CC2.0
The main figures behind the scheme were Colonel George Landman and Geroge Walter. They floated a company in 1831 (floating companies seems to be the way everything was done at that time) and raised £400,000. The track was relatively short, running only 3¾ miles, but because of its elevation, involved almost 900 arches. Its construction used more than 60 million bricks, which was more than any other structure up till that time.
Whilst the majority of arches ran over fields—though these would disappear in a few decades—the original plan was to make a small amount of extra income by renting out the space under the arches at the London end of the line as houses. Somehow, in spite of the assurance of Penny Magazine that the sound and vibration (which could be felt, mind you) of the trains passing overhead “did not disturb [the] comfort” of the resident of one of the archways (p. 249), the scheme never really took off. Instead, the spaces were used primarily for storage.
Londoners appeared to be extremely excited by this development, and regularly lined the tracks just to see the work that was going on. One can only assume that for them, this was the future slowly coming to London. Never one to miss an opportunity for a few extra pounds, while the railway was under construction, George Walter opened the path that ran alongside the railway to the public, charging one penny’s admittance. At first, the walkway didn’t do the business that management had expected. It was set two to three feet below ground, which made the viaduct the train ran along look quite impressive, but meant people couldn’t see out over the boundary wall. In response, Colonel Landman paid 1 shilling for rubbish to be spread along the path to raise it up. To be honest, I’m impressed they were still able to charge a penny to walk on it after they had spread the rubbish.
As these projects do, it ran both over time and over budget. A particular issue arose when one of the test trains derailed. We take trains for granted these days, but the amount of fear around them during their earliest stages is quite palpable. A good friend of Lord Nelson and fellow officer, Sir Thomas Hardy,2 refused to ride, for fear of the boiler exploding. Keep in mind this is a man who fought through the Battle of Trafalgar. Fortunately, the boiler didn’t explode, and no one was seriously hurt, but it did result in a field day for the papers. In particular John Bull had always been against the railways and used this as an excuse to discuss their dangers, describing them as a matter of “Tom-foolery” (p. 250). The president of No Sky Rail would have felt right at home with her fear of freight train derailments. I’ve found no evidence if locals were concerned of paedophiles looking out over their fields.
London’s First Railway, p. 57
In spite of set backs and critics, the project was completed, with an opening ceremony on the 14th of December 1836, which sounds as if it were full of appropriate pomp and ceremony. A lot of toasting is also mentioned by contemporary reports, so I think we can assume a good time was had by all. Having said that, the first train departed and hour and three quarters late, setting the standard for all future passenger services. Five trains ran the line from London Bridge to Deptford on that day, and all the local parish churches arranged so that their bells rang out as the first trains went by. Though as their top speed was 20mph, this probably did not require the military precision that it appears. Nevertheless, 20mph was enough to astonish many of the passengers. They were probably even more astonished to find that, the press of people was so fierce that they couldn’t get off at the Spa Road stop and had to continue on to Deptford, where they were unable to reboard the trains. Subsequently, many people that day caught the train out to Deptford, but had to take a stage coach home. I’m sure any who have experienced Metro’s disruptions will be sympathetic.
And so the first authentically passenger line came into action. In doing so it predicted much of the future of building mass transit systems: delayed, over budget, and controversial. In fact, it ended up being the centre of a vary public smear campaign between two rival railway companies, but that’s a great story in its own right, and I think I’ll save it for another day.
Academic Sources
Aslet, C 1999, The Story of Greenwich, Fourth Estate, London.
Simmons, J & Biddle, G 1999, The Oxford Companion to British Railway History: From 1603 to the 1990s, Oxford University Press, Oxford.
Thomas, RHG 1972, London’s first railway – the London & Greenwich, Batsford, London.