thing “which is not in general use.” Experience has tested it, and experiment is easy—but inertia is easier.
The wheel—the horse-foot wheel—was shown one day in model to another railway authority, who, if he reads this, may remember the circumstance. He thought it very remarkable, and proposed to have it constructed at . The inventor declined, alleging that they could not make it at that establishment.
“Why not?” said the honest and gentlemanly magnate.
“I will not explain why,” said the inventor, “but they cannot do it. Give me authority to get it done, and it shall be done!” But he went on his way without the order.
A fortnight after he again saw the magnate.
“Well, I have shown your wheel to , and he is going to make some.”
“I am obliged to you for your interest,” replied the inventor, “but again I tell you that he cannot—or, if you prefer the phrase, will not—make them.”
A month after that the magnate again saw the inventor, and informed him that the experiment had been unsuccessful.
But meanwhile a successful experiment was making on another line, where there was a will to succeed.
The public generally is not aware that the railway tyres next preferred to steel are of the iron called Low Moor, the highest priced of all iron. Staffordshire tyres are regarded with contempt, being only two-thirds the price of Low Moor. The horse-foot wheels of the inventor were purposely applied with Staffordshire tyres, and were put in competition with Low Moor tyres running in the same train, and applied in the ordinary manner. The result has been, that the Staffordshire lasted twice the time of the Low Moor. Costing two-thirds of the money, the durability was doubled.
And this was attained with greater absolute safety. The Low Moor tyres were pierced with holes to attach them to the wheels. The Staffordshire had no holes. The Low Moor were strained on hot. The Staffordshire were applied cold. The Low Moor were in tension. The Staffordshire were in a state of rest. The Low Moor sledged on the rails or curves, and produced torsion of the axles. The Staffordshire rolled with less sledging, and having no tension it was impossible they should break even in frost. They were elastic, like a horse’s foot.
A neighbour line took heart of grace and applied these spring-tyred wheels to a locomotive engine, with what are called four coupled wheels. These also were Staffordshire tyres, and on driving-wheels the test was harder. For nine months these wheels worked on sharp curves and heavy gradients, till the boiler (being an old engine) became too old for safety.
An accident happened on a line, and it came out in evidence that the leading-wheel tyres of the engine were regularly worn down in two months, so that the flanges became too thin for safety, and the wheel-tyres had to be reduced in diameter about an inch to get up new flanges.
The inventor applied to the engineer to try his horse-foot tyres on the leading wheels of a similar engine working over the same sharp curves and steep gradients. The result proved that the horse-foot had four times the durability of the ordinary wheels.
“How is this to be accounted for?” asked the engineer.
Very simply. The flanges wear by a shearing action against the rails. A pair of shears will not cut metal unless the axis be perfectly firm. The ordinary wheel has the tyre firm, and it is shorn. The horse-foot wheel having an elastic tyre, it yields, and slips aside and will not shear.
An opportunity occurred on a distant line, also of sharp curves and steep gradients, where the tyres were rapidly worn out. Horse-foot tyres were applied to an engine with six wheels by an engineer who believed in the theory. In due time a report came to the following effect to the inventor:—
“Your tyres are going on quite satisfactorily. I had them made of common Staffordshire iron, and put under a six-wheeled coupled engine. They have now done a year’s work, and through last winter’s frost with heavy trains, and though this line is all heavy gradients, with the sand constantly in use to prevent slips, yet the wear has been very slight. I am so satisfied with them that I shall apply them to every new locomotive.”
So the theory of our inventor was demonstrated in practice on three lines with the same results—inferior priced iron doing the work of the most costly—an iron of tough fibre not involving the risk of breakage belonging to the harder irons.
Thus, a rail and wheel exist in the principles of which safety nearly absolute and cost greatly reduced are found at the same time. So our inventor reasonably thought their use should extend.
On application to another engineer, pointing out the theory and fact, the inventor got the following reply: “It is all very true, but I am placed in a position of responsibility, and must protect myself. If an accident happens on my line by a wheel breaking, the jury, prompted by the plaintiff’s solicitor, will ask whether I have paid the highest price and used a wheel in common use. If I answer in the affirmative, I am held harmless; but if I have obtained any wheels at a cheaper rate, or used a new system, I shall be condemned for using new-fangled plans, having more regard to the pockets of the shareholders than the public safety.”
This is the dead-lock against railway improvement and railway safety.
Conversing with an intelligent gentleman in an official government position, the inventor remarked: “The companies are penny wise and pound foolish. They have a horror of small experiments, and yet notoriously rush into experiments on a large scale on sudden emergencies without any previous trial, under the pressure of public opinion. Were the companies to place at our disposal 10,000l. a-year for the purpose of verifying essential improvements by experiment, they would probably save an annual million and avoid a large amount of mechanical accidents.”
