as brakesman, he had a quarrel with a pitman named Ned Nelson, a roistering bully, who was the terror of the village. Nelson was a great fighter; and it was therefore considered dangerous to quarrel with him. Stephenson was so unfortunate as not to be able to please this pitman by the way in which he drew him out of the pit; and Nelson swore at him grossly because of the alleged clumsiness of his brakeing. George defended himself, and appealed to the testimony of the other workmen. But Nelson had not been accustomed to George’s style of self-assertion; and, after a great deal of abuse, he threatened to kick the brakesman, who defied him to do so. Nelson ended by challenging Stephenson to a pitched battle; and the latter accepted the challenge, when a day was fixed on which the fight was to come off.
Great was the excitement at Black Callerton when it was known that George Stephenson had accepted Nelson’s challenge. Everybody said he would be killed. The villagers, the young men, and especially the boys of the place, with whom George was a great favourite, all wished that he might beat Nelson, but they scarcely dared to say so. They came about him while he was at work in the engine-house to inquire if it was really true that he was “goin to fight Nelson?” “Ay; never fear for me; I’ll fight him.” And fight him he did. For some days previous to the appointed day of battle, Nelson went entirely off work for the purpose of keeping himself fresh and strong, whereas Stephenson went on doing his daily work as usual, and appeared not in the least disconcerted by the prospect of the affair. So, on the evening appointed, after George had done his day’s labour, he went into the Dolly Pit Field, where his already exulting rival was ready to meet him. George stripped, and “went in” like a practised pugilist—though it was his first and last fight. After a few rounds, George’s wiry muscles and practised strength enabled him severely to punish his adversary, and to secure an easy victory.
This circumstance is related in illustration of Stephenson’s personal pluck and courage; and it was thoroughly characteristic of the man. He was no pugilist, and the very reverse of quarrelsome. But he would not be put down by the bully of the colliery, and he fought him. There his pugilism ended; they afterwards shook hands, and continued good friends. In after life, Stephenson’s mettle was often as hardly tried, though in a different way; and he did not fail to exhibit the same resolute courage in contending with the bullies of the railway world, as he showed in his encounter with Ned Nelson, the fighting pitman of Callerton.
CHAPTER III.
Engineman at Willington Quay and Killingworth.
George Stephenson had now acquired the character of an expert workman. He was diligent and observant while at work, and sober and studious when the day’s work was over. His friend Coe described him to the author as “a standing example of manly character.” On pay-Saturday afternoons, when the pitmen held their fortnightly holiday, occupying themselves chiefly in cock-fighting and dog-fighting in the adjoining fields, followed by adjournments to the “yel-house,” George was accustomed to take his engine to pieces, for the purpose of obtaining “insight,” and he cleaned all the parts and put the machine in thorough working order before leaving it.
In the evenings he improved himself in the arts of reading and writing, and occasionally took a turn at modelling. It was at Callerton, his son Robert informed us, that he began to try his hand at original invention; and for some time he applied his attention to a machine of the nature of an engine-brake, which reversed itself by its own action. But nothing came of the contrivance, and it was eventually thrown aside as useless. Yet not altogether so; for even the highest skill must undergo the inevitable discipline of experiment, and submit to the wholesome correction of occasional failure.
After working at Callerton for about two years, he received an offer to take charge of the engine on Willington Ballast Hill at an advanced wage. He determined to accept it, and at the same time to marry Fanny Henderson, and begin housekeeping on his own account. Though he was only twenty-one years old, he had contrived, by thrift, steadiness, and industry, to save as much money as enabled him to take a cottage-dwelling at Willington Quay, and furnish it in a humble but comfortable style for the reception of his bride.
Willington Quay lies on the north bank of the Tyne, about six miles below Newcastle. It consists of a line of houses straggling along the river-side; and high behind it towers up the huge mound of ballast emptied out of the ships which resort to the quay for their cargoes of coal for the London market. The ballast is thrown out of the ships’ holds into waggons laid alongside, which are run up to the summit of the Ballast Hill, and emptied out there. At the foot of the great mound of shot rubbish was the fixed engine of which George Stephenson acted as brakesman.
The cottage in which he took up his abode was a small two-storied dwelling, standing a little back from the quay with a bit of garden ground in front. [33] The Stephenson family occupied the upper room in the west end of the cottage. Close behind rose the Ballast Hill.
When the cottage dwelling had been made snug, and was ready for occupation, the marriage took place. It was celebrated in Newburn Church, on the 28th of November, 1802. After the ceremony, George, with his newly-wedded wife, proceeded to the house of his father at Jolly’s Close. The old man was now becoming infirm, and, though he still worked as an engine-fireman, contrived with difficulty “to keep his head above water.” When the visit had been paid, the bridal party set out for their new home at Willington Quay, whither they went in a manner quite common before travelling by railway came into use. Two farm horses, borrowed from a neighbouring farmer, were each provided with a saddle and pillion, and George having mounted one, his wife seated herself behind him, holding on by his waist. The bridesman and bridesmaid in like manner mounted the other horse; and in this wise the wedding party rode across the country, passing through the old streets of Newcastle, and then by Wallsend to Willington Quay—a ride of about fifteen miles.
George Stephenson’s daily life at Willington was that of a steady workman. By the manner, however, in which he continued to improve his spare hours in the evening, he was silently and surely paving the way for being something more than a manual labourer. He set himself to study diligently the principles of mechanics, and to master the laws by which his engine worked. For a workman, he was even at that time more than ordinarily speculative—often taking up strange theories, and trying to sift out the truth that was in them. While sitting by his wife’s side in his cottage-dwelling in the winter evenings, he was usually occupied in studying mechanical subjects, or in modelling experimental machines. Amongst his various speculations while at Willington, he tried to discover a means of Perpetual Motion. Although he failed, as so many others had done before him, the very efforts he made tended to whet his inventive faculties, and to call forth his dormant powers. He went so far as to construct the model of a machine for the purpose. It consisted of a wooden wheel, the periphery of which was furnished with glass tubes filled with quicksilver; as the wheel rotated, the quicksilver poured itself down into the lower tubes, and thus a sort of self-acting motion was kept up in the apparatus, which, however, did not prove to be perpetual. Where he had first obtained the idea of this machine—whether from conversation or reading, is not known; but his son Robert was of opinion that he had heard of the apparatus of this kind described in the “History of Inventions.” As he had then no access to books, and indeed could barely read with ease, it is probable that he had been told of the contrivance, and set about testing its value according to his own methods.
Much of his spare time continued to be occupied by labour more immediately profitable, regarded in a pecuniary point of view. In the evenings, after his day’s labour at his engine, he would occasionally employ himself for an hour or two in casting ballast out of the collier ships, by which means he was enabled to earn a few extra shillings weekly. Mr. William Fairbairn of Manchester has informed us that while Stephenson was employed at Willington, he himself was working in the neighbourhood as an engine apprentice at the Percy Main Colliery. He was very fond of George, who was