Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 January 1875 — THE LIGHTNING EXPRESS. [ARTICLE]

THE LIGHTNING EXPRESS.

Did the reader ever ride on a locomotive at top speed? It is a queer experience, especially to one not at all accustomed to that peculiar mode of traveling, and is calculated, under some circumstances, to try the nervous system to its utmost tension. If you woula realize the power and irresistible force of a locomotive under headway, step on the rails for a moment on a dark night and look up the long line of perspective at an on-coming engine with its blazing signal-lantern in front, like the eye of Cyclops, and its roar, echoed by the trembling earth like some fabled giant’s breath. It is the very epitome of mechanical power harnessed to the service of human intelligence. What a frightful means of sacrifice, what a marvelous agent for good! Again, stand on the platform of a sidestation while the express train passes at its average speed of thirty miles an hour, and you have another example of the amazing power of steam. Your nerves will involuntarily contract themselves as the train rushes swiftly by, your eyelids wiH close mechanically and you almost gasp for breath as the air-vacuum sun. rounds you, caused by such huge and rapid atmospheric displacement. But it was upon an engine itself that the experience of which we write was gained, and though some years have now intervened it is as fresh in the memory as though it had occurred but yesterday. It was on a cold winter’s evening that we were to start from Burlington, Vt., for Boston. The January thaw had failed to put in an appearance that year, and the cold in that northern region had been intense, bedding the frost to a great depth in the soil. After purchasing our ticket for the Lightning Express, as it whs called, and placing valise and wrapper safely in one of the passenger cars, we had strolled about the depot until we finally paused beside the large and powerful locomotive which was to draw the train on its downward trip. It was a superb piece of mechanism, with its brass mountings as bright aB patient toil and incessant care could make them, while the iron and steel parts conveyed a sense of enormous strength even at a glance. The huge engine seemed almost endowed with animal life as it paused there with restrained power, like a thoroughbred horse champing impatiently at the hit which Curbs him. The engineer and fireman were both in their places, quietly awaiting the signal which should start the train for the south. A sudden thought struck me. I had never ridden upon a locomotive; it would be a new sensation. Was it possible to do so tonight? I asked the engineer, who shook his head, but still answered me pleasantly: “ There is the Superintendent yonder; ask him.” Seeking the individual designated as the Superintendent, I was both pleased and surprised to recognize in him an old friend, with whom, years ago, I had been on intimate terms. I finally told him that I had a singular request to make, and expressed my desire to ride with the engineer. He somewhat reluctantly assented to my desire, not without numerous cautions and the remark that it was quite exceptional to grant such a privilege to anyone. Walking to the side of the locomotive the Supenntendent introduced mo to the engineer, and gave him directions to accommodate me as it regarded the intended purpose. " Five minutes later the signal bell was rang, the shrill whistle sounded, steam was gradually let on to the cylinders, and the train rolled out of the depot into the darkness, which for a moment was rendered more dense by contrast with the weill-ligbted depot left behind. lat once bestowed myself so as not to be in the V£ay of the engineer or fireman, and curiously watched the novel scene immediately about me, for that was all that 1 could possibly see. “ Never on a locomotive before?” suggested the engineer. “ No.” “ Can’t see much such a night as this.” “No; it’s as dark as a pocket,”l replied. “ Of a nice summer’s day it’s all very well,” continued the engineer, “ but of a dark night—well, I don’t think it’s very jolly.” All the while he was--looking straight ahead, with his hands on the valves to shut off steam and to whistle down brakes” at an instant’s notice. “How far ahead can you see!” I asked.

-** About a couple of rods such a night as this, unless a strong signal lantern is shown; then we can see farther.” “Two rods would be of no real advantage if we were to encounter an obstacle on the track,” 1 suggested. “ Well, no; you can’t stop an express train much inside of a quarter of a mile with the style of brakes we now have." “Ay, that’s it. You require a more powerful sort of brake; is that what I understand you to mean?” “ Exactly; one that will act with greater power, and yet not bring a train up all standing, as it were. That would be almost as bad as to run into an object dead ahead,” replied the engineer. “Something of the sort will be invented.” “ Oh, yes, one of these days; I’ve always Said so.” In the meantime the Lightning Express was rushing on its way straight into the intense darkness, which, if possible, was now rendered more apparent by a fleecy fall of snow, which was packed all about us by reason of the great speed at which we were running. I could not but admire the perfect coolness of the two men who were my companions, though my own senses were in a constant state of nervous excitement. The intense darkness, the blinding snow into which we drove, as it seemed to me not knowing whither, kept my senses on the alert. I could not divest myself of the feeling that there was perhaps something in that darkness just ahead which we were sure to run into and wreck the train. Finally my excited brain began to recall all the railroad accidents of which I had ever read or heard, until, as I had just arrived at the height of miserable anticipation, I suddenly exclaimed: “ What is that?” on hearing something like a prolonged whistle ahead. % “Your ears are quick,” said the engineer calmly. “ That is the Rutland accommodation train; it will pass us iff a mdment.” Even while he was speaking there appeared in front of us the bright reflecting signal lantern upon the other engine, seeming exactly in front of us, and perhaps six or eight rods distant, but scarcely had the eye settled upon the dazzling object before it swept past us on the other track so quickly as to seem to have been a flash of lightning, and, for an instant, quite taking away my breath, though my companions did not so much as wink an eyelid. In this instance we had not only the thirty miles per hour headway of our own train but also the twenty miles per hour of the accommodation train added to the speed which so rapidly separated us. I > was not a very pleasant thought which passed through my brain just then, that a misplaced switch might brinj* these two trains upon the same track facing each other, and, at this frightful rate of speed, the result can be easily conceived! Frank Moore, the engineer, had been long in the company’s service. He was a man of some thirty-eight or forty years, intelligent, though not cultivated, and as I watched him standing at his post that dark and dismal night I thought how many lives were trusted to his sole guidance. Supposing an accident were to happen to him, what would become of the hundred souls and more in the train? But he stood there as firm as the iron about him, never for one moment quitting his hold upon either the valve which should signal danger or that which shut off the motive power in case of necessity. Begrimed by long exposure to soot and smoke his features were very dark, but there was a kindly expression through all the bronze, and a firmness visible in his face which challenged trust and entire confidence in the man. We had stopped twice for wood and water, at which times I might have taken my seat in the passenger cars, but a sense of wild fascination seemed to attach me to the locomotive and I determined to continue upon it at least for a while longer. And so on we dashed still through the dense darkness and the blinding snow as we had been doing for so many a long mile. Now and then the engine would jump in its fierce headway on striking some trifling obstruction upon the rails and my heart would leap into almost audible action, and to me it appeared at times as though the whole train was going over an embankment to inevitable wreck. When one of these exreriences was more decided than usual could not quite suppress an ejaculation, at which my companions would glance at me with an amused smile. Custom had inured them to these occurrences so that they gave them no heed. On, on, and still the driving snow-storm and the darkness reigned supreme. The stoker fed the fire,“and the engineer, watchful as ever, peered ahead. I was perhaps getting to be a little sleepy from the force of the wind and the lateness of the hour, for it was now about midnight, when, fearing to drop to sleep, I rose from a stool on which I had been sitting and determined to change to the passenger cars at the next stopping-place. Just as I had made this mental resolve there came suddenly a crash at the front window of the engine that sent every drop of blood back to my heart with a sickening thrill. I had time to draw one long breath when the engineer whistled “ down brakes” and shut off steam from the engine, exclaiming: “My God! what is that?” while both he and myself shook the broken g[ass from our faces and peck, and he still further reversed his engine. “ It’s a lantern,” said the fireman, picking Up what remained of the article which had come crashing in at the window. “ Thrown at us,” said the engineer. That means danger if it means anything.” In the meantime the train had been brought to a standstill, the conductor had appeared at the side of the locomotive to consult with the engineer, the bell was rung, whistle started, and gradually we ran backward toward the spot where the lantern had struck us. We had retraced our way for nearly a quarter of a mile, when a man suddenly appeared through the darkness and came to the locomotive. “ Did you throw that lantern?” asked the engineer. ' “To he sure I did, and worse luck if I

hadn’t hit ye!” was the answer that came to our ears with unmistakable Milesian accent. “Who are you?” asked the conductor. “ I’m trackman between here and Brandon.” “ Well, what’s the matter?” asked the engineer. “The matter is a broken rail,jest beyant, as would have sent ye all to glory!” replied the Irishman. The affair was soon explained. During the winter season the frost often renders the rails very brittle, so that they break under a passing train. In consequence of this liability to danger a corps of trackmen are so placed as to walk over and examine every mile of the Northern roads, in extreme weather, after the passing of each train. Those trackmen are supplied with the ordinary tools for re- { (airing any slight break, and also with a an tern to signify danger when necessary to any incoming train. In the instance to which we refer the trackman had discovered A serious break in a rail just beside a steep embankment and viaduct, one of the most dangerous spots on the route. In his efforts to repair the danger by some means his lantern became extinguished. Here was an unfortunate plight. In that sparsely-inhabited region there was neither house nor shelter where he could renew the light. His matches he exhausted in vain endeavors to light the wick in so fierce a storm. Besides, as the man well reasoned, “ The engineer, I knew, could not see my lantern, if it were lighted, three rods on in such a night.” The Irishman was puzzled; the Lightning Express was nearly due; if it sfruck that defective rail th train would surely be wrecked! What was to be done? A sudden inspiration struck him. He started and ran like a deer nearly half a mile up the track toward the oncoming train. Already he heard the rumble of its approach as he placed himself on a slight elevation on the side of the track. On came the train; he could see her signal light, though the engineer could neither see nor have heard him—on, on, thirty miles an hour, toward destruction. The Irishman braced himself, and with a swift but careful throw of his unlighted lantern he cast it straight into the engineer’s face! “Bedad! 'lt was the only thing I could do,” said the honest fellow, as he gratefully pocketed a purse of fifty dollars made up by the passengers. We crept carefully on to the dangerous spot, where a detention of twenty minutes served to mend the track sufficiently to permit the passage of the train, and we once more dashed ahead in the darkness; but I shall never forget that experience upon the Lightning Express.— Lieut. Murray , in N. F. Weekly: