Stokers and pokers : $b or, The London and North-Western Railway, the electric telegraph, and the railway clearing-houseHead, Francis Bond, Sir
History
Stokers and pokers : $b or, The London and North-Western Railway, the electric telegraph, and the railway clearing-house
Head, Francis Bond, Sir
London and North-Western Railway; Railway Clearing House (London, England); Telegraph -- Great Britain
At a short distance towards the south we entered a beautiful
building, lighted during the day by plate-glass in the roof, by gas
at night, and warmed by steam. In its centre there stands a narrow
elevated platform, whereon travels a small locomotive, which brings
into the building, and deposits on thirteen sets of rails on each
side, twenty-six locomotive engines for examination and repair. On
the outside, in the open air, we found at work what is called “_a
scrap drum_” which by revolving cleans scraps of old rusty iron,
just as a public school improves awkward boys by hardly rubbing
them one against another. The scrap iron, after having been by this
discipline divested of its rust, is piled on a small wooden board
for further schooling, and when sufficiently hot the glowing mass is
placed under a steam-hammer alongside, whose blows, each equal to
about ten tons, very shortly belabour to “equality and fraternity”
the broken bolts, bars, nuts, nails, screw-pins, bits of plate-iron,
&c., which are thus economically welded into a solid mass or
commonwealth. In another smelting-shop, 150 feet in length, we saw at
work fourteen forges, six turning-lathes, one drilling-machine, and
one iron-shaving machine. Lastly, there are gas-works for supplying
the whole of the Company’s establishment with about seventy or eighty
thousand cubic feet of gas per day.
The above is but a faint outline of the Company’s hospital at
Wolverton for the repair and maintenance merely of their locomotive
engines running between London and Birmingham.
The magnitude of the establishment will best speak for itself; but
as our readers, like ourselves, are no doubt tired almost to death
of the clanking of anvils--of the whizzing of machinery--of the
disagreeable noises created by the cutting, shaving, turning, and
planing of iron--of the suffocating fumes in the brass-foundry, in
the smelting-houses, in the gas-works--and lastly of the stunning
blows of the great steam-hammer--we beg leave to offer them a cup of
black tea at the Company’s public refreshment-room, in order that,
while they are blowing, sipping, and enjoying the beverage, we may
briefly explain to them the nature of this beautiful little oasis in
the desert.
_Wolverton Refreshment-Room._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account