The omnibuses, defeated in this part of the fighting, resorted to peculiar but effective tactics. As soon as I laid a portion of my tracks--which was done upon the same terms under which I had put down the line in Birkenhead--the 'bus drivers tried in every possible way to wreck their vehicles on the rails. They would drive across again and again and take the rails in the most reckless way, in order to catch and twist their wheels. They were very often successful, and there were many accidents of this sort. The excitement increased greatly with every foot of track laid down. But the people, as in Birkenhead, were tremendously in favor of the tramway. It was such a convenience to them that they sided with me in the fight. The 'bus drivers and companies and the aristocracy were against me--the one because my trams interfered with their business, the other because they owned their private conveyances, and did not like to drive across the rails. I dressed conductors and drivers in the uniform of volunteers, to which many soldiers objected.

In the meanwhile the cars were crowded with pa.s.sengers at all hours, there being throughout the day a rush such as is seen in New York only in what we call the "rush hours."

In all this excitement and press of travel, accidents were, of course, unavoidable. I dreaded one, as I felt it would be the crucial point. It might turn against me the popular feeling, now so strongly setting in my direction, for the "mob" (so called) of London is fully as excitable and as ungovernable as the "mob" of Paris, and its prejudices are more deeply intrenched. Finally, the dreaded accident came. A boy was killed, and I was arrested for manslaughter.

In order to appease public feeling, I paid the expenses of the boy's funeral, and did everything that could possibly be done to pay, in a material way, for his death. The accident was entirely unavoidable, and the tramway was not responsible for it, but there was a great deal of feeling, chiefly due to the agitation of the 'bus drivers. Sir John Villiers Sh.e.l.ley, member of Parliament, a relative of the poet, who was chairman of the Metropolitan Board of Works and the representative of the omnibus people, led the fight against me. We had a terrific struggle. The bill to authorize the tramways had gone to Parliament, and this was now defeated by a few votes. I had six of the ablest lawyers of England to represent me (through Baxter, Rose & Norton, solicitors), but the influence of the 'bus men, aided by the sentiment in certain quarters against me on account of my speeches in favor of the American Union, was too strong for me, and I had to abandon the fight in London.

I then went to the Potteries in Staffordshire, and there, after renewing the same kind of fighting that I had had in London, in every new town I undertook to lay railways in, I succeeded in building seven miles of track through the crockery-making country. Those tracks are there to-day.

My failure in London, which was to have been expected, must be set off by these successes in Birkenhead and in Staffordshire. I am ent.i.tled to the credit of laying the first street-railways in England, having to overcome the most formidable of all the enemies of progress--British prejudice. I afterward went to Darlington, where Stephenson had built his first railway, from Stockton to Darlington, in '29, the year of my birth, and I constructed a tramway there to connect the two steam railways through that town.

My life, therefore, spans the entire railway building of the world. The first railway was built the year I was born, and since that time, in a s.p.a.ce of seventy-three years, more than 200,000 miles of railway have been constructed in the United States alone. In much of this great work I have had some share. I suggested the railway that connects Melbourne with its port, and mapped out the present railway system in Australia thirty-nine years ago; I organized the line that connects the Eastern States with the great Middle West--the Atlantic and Great Western Railway; and I organized and built the first railway that pierced the great American desert, and brought the Atlantic and Pacific coasts into close touch and led to the development of the far West.

I may mention here, also, that I built a street-railway in Geneva, Switzerland, which is still in use; and one in Copenhagen, which proved that there was at least something sound in "the state of Denmark."

Other railways, as in Sydney and Melbourne, Australia, suggested by me, have been changed from horse to trolley lines. I also suggested the road in Bombay, India, which was the first railway in all Asia, now extended.

It may be of interest to record that when I began building street-railways, I sent to the United States and got the plans of the Philadelphia roads and of the New York Third Avenue line. It was therefore upon the models of American roads that these foreign railways were constructed.

It is sometimes said that it is remarkable that little is known of my connection with these great enterprises--for they were great, and epoch-making. But my achievements in England, in the pioneer work of building street-railways, is a matter of recorded history. An account of my work there will be found in a book by Dr. Albert Shaw, editor of the Review of Reviews, Munic.i.p.al Government in Great Britain, as well as in other books that deal with the industrial life of the period.

CHAPTER XXII

ENGLAND AND OUR CIVIL WAR--BLOCKADE RUNNING

I have referred already to the antagonism felt toward me in certain English quarters because of my speeches in favor of the Federal American Union in the hour of its danger. Love of country was always stronger in me than love of money, and I let slip no opportunity to defend the cause of the Union and to prove to the English of the upper cla.s.ses that they were mistaken in supposing that the Confederacy could succeed. Those who were not in England at this period, when the South was in the first flush of its success, and when it seemed likely that England and France would go to the a.s.sistance of the South, merely to strengthen themselves by weakening the power of the United States, can not appreciate the extent or the power of British sympathy for the Confederacy. The element in England that took sides with the South was tremendously influential.

I had already felt its power in a personal way through the defeat of my street-railway projects.

As soon as I observed the trend of British opinion, I went into public halls and spoke in favor of the Union, and tried to show that right and might were both on the side of the North, and that, no matter how many successes the South might win in the beginning of the war, it would inevitably be crushed beneath the weight of the rest of the country. I did not confine myself to speeches of this sort. I attacked the men who were trading on the war by sending blockade runners into Southern ports in violation of the rules of war. And so I was in some relation with Lord John Russell on the one hand and Emperor Louis Napoleon on the other, in the critical days of the Mason-Slidell affair and the discussion of "belligerent rights" of the South.

Before taking part in this desperate effort to stem the tide of British opinion, and to defeat the efforts of British traders to make money by selling merchandise to the South contraband of war, I placed my wife and children on board a steamer for New York, in order to remove them from troubled scenes. This fight was to cost me the opportunity of making a fortune of perhaps $5,000,000, by upsetting my street-railway projects.

I may mention here that in '58, during the Italian war, I bought the London Morning Chronicle for the French Emperor, paying $10,000 for it, and putting Thornton Hunt, son of Leigh Hunt, in editorial charge, at a salary of $2,000 a year. It was a daily paper; and as the Emperor wanted a weekly also, I arranged for him the purchase of the London Spectator at the same price, and put in Townsend (I think that was the name) as editor, at a salary of $2,000 a year. When the war was over, these papers of course pa.s.sed out of our hands, and the Chronicle made a most savage attack on me in the tramway discussion, taking the part of the omnibus drivers. It again attacked me for my exposure of blockade running from British ports. I had given the names of the men interested, the marks of the cargoes, and the destination of the shipments, in a letter that I wrote to the New York Herald. These men thought they had a.s.sa.s.sinated the United States Republic.

The feeling against me was so intense at one time that I antic.i.p.ated an attempt to kill me. Strong influences were brought to bear upon me to stop a paper that I had established in London, with my private secretary, George Pickering Bemis, as manager, for the purpose of disseminating correct news and views about the civil war. Secretary Seward, by the way, sent $100, through his private secretary, Mr. J. C.

Derby (who was afterward connected with the house of D. Appleton and Company, and wrote his recollections under the t.i.tle, Fifty Years Among Authors, Books, and Publishers), to a.s.sist in keeping up this journal.

The intense strain wore upon me to such an extent that I had an attack of insomnia, and almost lost my senses at times. I would not go armed, but relied for defense upon a small cane that I carried under my arm, so grasped by the end in front as to enable me to whirl it about instantly in case I should be attacked from the rear.

In August, '62, I observed that a vessel called the Mavrockadatis was acting suspiciously, and came to the conclusion that she was a blockade runner. I believed that she was loaded with supplies for the Confederates, and that as soon as she was clear at sea she would make for a Southern port or for some rendezvous with a Confederate ship. I determined to frustrate this design, and took pa.s.sage on her for St.

John's, Newfoundland, which I supposed was only her ostensible destination. Of course, I registered under an a.s.sumed name, taking the name "Oliver" for the occasion.

As it turned out, I was wrong. The vessel kept on her course as represented, and we arrived at St. John's, Newfoundland, instead of at a Southern port. This broke up my program, as I had intended, immediately upon reaching a Southern port, to go direct to Richmond and see if anything could be done to end the war. As I may not have occasion again to refer to this plan, which I had had in mind for some time, I shall speak of it here. I had arranged with the President and with Mr. Seward to go to Richmond to see what could be done.

My idea was that the Southern leaders were in complete ignorance of the power and resources of the North; they had fancied, because of the great military reputation of Southern soldiers, that it would be comparatively easy to beat Northern troops in the field; and that, in the last event, England and France would come to their a.s.sistance. I felt confident of convincing Jefferson Davis and other Southern leaders that all these views were erroneous. I thought it would be a simple thing to prove that they could not count on the a.s.sistance of either England or France, as these two nations would not unite, and neither would undertake the task alone. I also thought I could give them such evidence of the great resources of the North, both in men and means, that they would recognize the uselessness of the struggle. Another view I had in mind was that I could impress the Southerners with the suggestion that, in the event of their abandoning the contest at that stage, they could obtain far better terms than the victorious North would be content to offer after a long and harrowing war. But this was not to be. Stanton heard of our plans, and sent Montgomery Blair to negotiate with the Southern leaders, with what result is too well known.

I landed in Newfoundland, instead of in the South, as I have said, with all my immediate plans thwarted. But I took up the course of my life exactly at the point where I stood. I was in Newfoundland just one day, and I wrote a history of that Crown Colony from the information I gleaned in this brief visit. I shall republish it some day. I observed in St. John's, as I have observed elsewhere, that people are fashioned by their occupations. These people were physically the creation of fisheries. I noted the tomcod married to the hake, and the shark wedded to the swordfish. The fish of the sea, which they ate and upon which they lived and had their being, were all represented in their features, from the sardine to the sperm whale.

From St. John's, Newfoundland, I went to Boston, by way of St. Johns, New Brunswick, stopping at Portland, Maine, for a brief visit. At Portland I was met by B. F. Guild on behalf of Curtis Guild, owner of the Boston Commercial Bulletin, which had just been established. Guild published my Union speeches, and must have spent $1,000 a week--the Bulletin was a weekly paper--in advertising them and my other writings.

I published my History of Newfoundland in his paper, receiving for it $10 a column, the only pay I have ever received from a newspaper or other periodical for my work. I saw recently a notice of the death of B.

F. Guild, at the age of eighty-nine. I had no idea he was so old.

I found that I had returned to my country the most popular American in public life. I was greeted everywhere by vast concourses of people, who cheered me and demanded speeches about the situation in England and my experiences there. At Boston I was met by a tremendous gathering, and it looked like a procession as we went up State Street to the Revere House.

I was placed in the rooms that had been occupied by the Prince of Wales, now King Edward, on his visit to Boston two years before.

I was not long in Boston before I got into trouble by trying to enlighten the people with regard to the war. There was a great a.s.semblage in Faneuil Hall, where Sumner was to speak, and I went there to see what was going on. Sumner was not a very effective speaker before mixed audiences, and could not have stood up for twenty minutes in the halls of London, where the greatest freedom of debate is indulged in, and where every speaker must be prepared to answer quickly and to the point any question that may be hurled at him, or to reply with sharpness and point to any retort that may come from the crowd that faces him.

I was very much astonished, therefore, to hear Sumner challenge any one in the audience to confute his arguments. I knew, of course, that the gantlet thus lightly thrown down was a mere oratorical figure, but in England it would have been taken up at once, and Sumner would have been routed. The temptation was too much for me. I rose, to the apparent astonishment and embarra.s.sment of the orator and of the committee on the platform, and said: "Mr. Sumner, when you have finished, I should like to speak a word." The cheering that greeted my acceptance of the gaily-flung challenge was cordial.

As soon as Sumner had finished I climbed to the platform. There I had the greatest difficulty with the committee, which seemed determined to suppress any attempt to reply to the hero and G.o.d of the upper cla.s.ses in Boston. The moment I began to talk the committee signaled to the band, and the music drowned my voice. When the band stopped I started again, but the committee endeavored to stop me. I acted as my own policeman and cleared the platform, when another rush was made upon me, and all went tumbling from the stage. I was then arrested and taken to the City Hall. The crowd seemed decidedly with me, although the utmost it knew as to my sentiments was that I was opposed to making instant abolition of slavery a condition precedent to putting an end to the war (that is, on Lincoln's platform, Union, with or without slavery).

In a few minutes there was a crowd of some thousands of people about the City Hall demanding loudly that I be set at liberty. I quieted the people by sending word to them that I was preparing a proclamation to the American people. This proclamation, ent.i.tled "G.o.d Save the People,"

was published by Guild in the Bulletin--and I should like to get a copy of it, as I have lost my own. This arrest did not interfere with me very much.

I made a contract with Guild to lecture in the North and West, and my first lecture was given in the Academy of Music, New York. The general subject was the abolition question, as it related to the war between the States. At this meeting Ca.s.sius M. Clay, of Kentucky, was made chairman, but the audience did not like that, and a big cabbage was thrown to the stage from the gallery. I then took charge of the meeting myself, and walking to the edge of the stage, said: "I see that you do not like Mr.

Clay; but he should have a fair chance. If Mr. Guild will arrange for a meeting at Cooper Inst.i.tute to-morrow night, I will debate with Mr.

Clay, and you can then fire at me cabbages or gold dollars, as you like.

I propose the following subject for the discussion: American Slavery as a Stepping-stone from African Barbarism to Christian Civilization; hence, it is a Divine Inst.i.tution." Mr. Clay accepted.

The next evening, at Cooper Inst.i.tute, there was a large audience that packed the hall from door to stage; $1,300 were taken at the box-office.

The papers on the following morning gave from two to four columns of the discussion, and the London Times considered it sufficiently important, even to Englishmen, to give a long account and editorial comments. It said that the honors of the debate had been with me, and gave a specimen of my repartee, which, it said, had swept Mr. Clay off his feet.

Mr. Clay had referred in his speech to an interview he had had with President Lincoln, who was then hesitating as to issuing the Proclamation of Emanc.i.p.ation. Mr. Clay said, "I told the President that I would not flesh my sword in the defense of Washington unless he issued a proclamation freeing the slaves." My reply was: "It is fair to a.s.sume that, in order to make Major-General Ca.s.sius M. Clay flesh his sword, the President will issue the proclamation." There was loud laughter at this. The President did issue his proclamation three months after this.

I received a postal card the other day from Clay, who is now a nonagenarian, in his armed castle in Kentucky.

I was in Washington after this debate, which occurred in September, '62, and was warmly received by the President and members of his cabinet. I had heard very much, of course, about the freedom of speech of Mr.

Lincoln, and was not, therefore, astonished to hear him relate several characteristic anecdotes. In fact, three of the most prominent men in the United States at that time were striving to outdo one another in jests--the President, Senator Nesmyth of Oregon, and Senator Nye.

Mr. Seward invited me to a dinner at his residence, the historic house where later the a.s.sa.s.sin tried to kill him, where General Sickles killed Philip Barton Key, and which in more recent years was occupied by James G. Blaine. Most of the members of the cabinet were present. I was asked to describe some of the scenes of my recent travels, and told about Chinese dinners, to their great amus.e.m.e.nt. Afterward I told them a story then current about Wendell Phillips, the abolitionist. Phillips was once in Charleston, South Carolina, and returned late to dinner at his hotel.

As he approached the door, it was held open by a negro slave. Phillips said haughtily that he had never permitted a slave to wait on him, and that he would not do so now. "How long have you been a slave?" asked Mr.

Phillips. The negro replied: "I ain't got no time to talk erbout dat now, wid only five minits fur dinner." Mr. Phillips told the slave to leave the room, that he would not let him serve him at the table; he would wait on himself. "I cain't do dat, suh; I is 'sponsible for de silber on de table, suh!"

Loud laughter greeted this story. In the very midst of the uproar the door was burst open, and Secretary Stanton appeared, his face white with emotion. In a choking voice, that was scarcely audible and would not have been heard had not every nerve in our bodies been strained to catch the momentous words we expected, he said: "A battle is raging at Antietam! Ten thousand men have been killed, and the rebels are now probably marching on Washington!"

There was a hush, and we told no more stories that night. It is remarkable that almost all the great battles hung long in the scales of victory. Neither side knew whether it had won until some time after the fighting had ceased. It was so at Antietam, and had been so in the case of Bull Run or Mana.s.sas. The true tidings came in slowly.

I took no part in the war on the battlefield, because as soon as I looked into the causes of the war and its continuance, I saw that it was a contract war. I came back to this country fully expecting to serve. I had been a.s.sured of a high commission; but could not conscientiously take part in a struggle in which thousands of lives were being sacrificed to greed. Such was my honest belief, and such was my course.

CHAPTER XXIII

BUILDING THE UNION PACIFIC RAILWAY

1862-1870