If
you were paying attention at all in school, and I’m sure you all were, you
know that when the Golden Spike was driven to symbolically link the Union Pacific and Central Pacific Rail Roads on May 10, 1869 that the Transcontinental Railroad linked the East and West Coasts in one
shimmering steel ribbon. Close, but
not quite. Most folks thought New York City and San Francisco were the two termini. But there was no railroad bridge yet from Manhattan
across the East River to New Jersey. In California
the Central Pacific still ended in Sacramento
and travelers those first months had to proceed to the Bay Area by river boat or
stage coach. In November the CP’s subsidiaries the Western
Pacific the San Francisco Bay
Railroads completed the
final leg of the route, connecting the state
capital to Oakland. But to get to fabled San Francisco travelers
had to board a ferry to cross the Bay.
In between
coasts, the Union Pacific started west from Omaha, Nebraska but there was no bridge over the Missouri River to Council Bluff, Iowa to connect to the Chicago and Northwestern line running east. Fortunately, thanks to a shrew railroad
lawyer named Abraham Lincoln in a
case representing the Illinois Central, railroads
had won the right to span the Mississippi River even at the hazard of river boat operations so that
great obstacle could be crossed.
But there was a
snarl in Chicago where all of the
principle railroads in the eastern
half of the country had terminals
but not direct connections. Passengers from the east had to get off a train at one station and go several blocks to pick up another heading west—and the
railroads pointedly did not even synchronize their arrivals and
departures to make that smooth or
convenient. All freight had to similarly be switched from one line to another. East of Chicago passengers had to switch
railroads two more times before glimpsing Manhattan
from the Jersey side.
By 1876 some of
those problems had been overcome. A
bridge had finally been built over the Missouri and there was some schedule cooperation in Chicago
although trains still needed to be changed.
The trip from almost coast to
almost coast still took about 7
days, but that was a vast improvement
over months overland by wagon or stage coach or by steam packet around the Horn. Theoretically, however, it should have been possible to shave days off that time.
The idea of a dash from coast to coast for
the express purpose of setting a record
was a natural. One might suspect that it was part of the grand hoopla that year around the National Centennial and the great Exposition in Philadelphia. Or that it was
promoted by the Federal Government to
highlight fast postal service and
emphasize national unity in the post-Civil War Era. Or that the railroads themselves thought
up the stunt to promote their
service. The eventual trip accomplished all those things, but none
of them were the reason it was actually
done.
It was just a
good old fashion theatrical press agent
gimmick. A New York impresario and flack named Henry Jarrett managed
the Broadway Booth Theater where Lawrence Barrett and company were just about to finish up a successful run in Shakespeare’s Henry V. They had been booked into a top San Francisco theater
following the New York run. Barrett was
a popular actor but not on the world famous level of Edwin Booth in whose honor the New York
house had been named and on the far
away West Coast he was something of
an unknown. Since he had to get star, cast, sets, costumes all the way across
the country anyway, Jarrett hit on the idea of chartering a private train
to deliver the company in record
breaking time. He knew that the public would eat up the story.
The coast-to-coast dash promoted Lawrence Barrett's Henry V |
Arranging for a
private train was no difficulty. It was
done all of the time by the wealthy. The trick
would be getting all five railroads
over which the train would have to roll to clear
their tracks for a through express which
would force any train ahead of them passenger or freight onto a siding
until the express high balled through. Each of the roads would have to carefully pre-position fuel and water stops and have relief
train crews at the ready. They would
also have to undertake unusual
coordination with connecting lines to insure the smooth transfer of the train to each new line’s engine.
Jarret was a smooth talker and got each of the
railroads—the Pennsylvania; the Pittsburgh, Fort Wayne & Chicago,
the Chicago & North Western, the
Union Pacific and the Central Pacific—to buy
into the plan, and at an exceptionally
low price of not terribly much more
than First Class accommodations of
everyone on board. He began to hype the trip with stories carefully planted in all of the leading New York dailies and national newspapers by greasing
the palms of compliant reporters and
editors when necessary. The telegraph
spread the story across the country
and even to Europe. Jarrett emphasized
fact that the play was going to close less
than 24 hours before cast, sets and costumes raced west to open in San
Francisco only a few days later. This assured that every single Broadway performance
was sold out right up to closing night.
And tickets out west were already selling
like hot cakes.
By the time the train was ready to leave reporters from the Times of London and James Gordon Bennett, Jr.’s New York
Herald were on board to
cover the trip from beginning to end.
Along the route other reporters would get on for a while, get their interviews with the star and
other members of the cast, and hop off
to file breathless stories.
After crossing
the Hudson by ferry early on June 1, 1876 passenger boarded the train which
pulled out of the Pennsylvania RR’s Jersey
City Station shortly after their arrival.
It would travel 24 hours a day
with only the briefest stops for
fuel, water, to exchange crews, or attach new engines.
The train
provided luxury accommodations. Three star and leading actors, producer, and
director rode in the luxury of the Pullman
Palace Hotel Car, the Marlborough and dined on fine cuisine said to rival Delmonico’s famous New York eatery in a beautifully appointed dining car The crew, reporters, and the
personal servants of the cast, and various hangers on traveled in a First Class Pullman Sleeping car. Each railroad along the route assigned their fastest and most modern locomotives
and best, most experienced engineers
to the train.
Members of the transcontinental party including cast members of Henry V and reporters. Star Lawrence Barrett is third from left and press agent/organizer Henry Jarrett.is third from right. |
As it sped
westward the train picked up two distinct nicknames. Some of the press picked up an early railroad
telegrapher’s alert bulletin to the
line ahead, “The Lightning Express is
on the way.” Jarrett was thrilled with the moniker
and adopted it for his own
promotional uses. Meanwhile the Post Office saw the opportunity to promote its fast rail service. It loaded all of the mail due for shipment to the Orient from San Francisco and issued a special postmark for the “Jarrett & Palmer Fast Trans-Continental
Express.” Some contemporary accounts
and much of the historical writing done
about the trip uses the name the Transcontinental
Express.
Others tried to
hitch their stars to the fame of the
train. The New York Times was
not yet the newspaper of record, but
it was a rising competitor with the
then dominant Herald for leadership among respectable broadsheets. The paper made sure that bundles of the early edition were rushed to the ferry
to accompany the cast so that they
could be placed in the baggage car
destined for Chicago. The train rolled into the Windy City very same day it was
published in New York beating the Herald by
half a day. Later the Times would make special arrangements with the railroads to near duplicate this feat
on a basis helping establish it as a major
national paper.
The trip was not without it hitches. Even the most modern locomotives of the day
were not designed for sustained speeds
above 60 miles per hour. All four of the
eastern lines scheduled at least one change of engine to prevent failure. And not every transfer of engines and crews
worked perfectly smoothly. But by the
time the express crossed the Missouri it was well ahead of time. And all
along the way whole towns turned out
when alerted that the train was coming by telegraph just to watch it flash by.
The great challenge was the final Central
Pacific’s final 875 mile leg from Ogden,
Utah to Oakland which encompassed not
only the most miles but crossed the burning Salt Flats and deserts of
Utah and Nevada and then had to climb and pierce the mighty Sierra
Nevadas in California. The CP
elected to use just one engine under the control of a single chief engineer for the entire
trip. The engine was the modern #149, the Black Fox, a McQueen Locomotive Works 4-4-0 unit. The engineer was veteran Henry S. (Hank) Small. His hand
was on the throttle most of the way with short spells of relief by other engineers.
There were risks.
In the vast expanses of the West often hundreds of miles between towns and maintenance rail yards,
any mechanical failure could doom the
enterprise. And much of the way was single track mainline making it impossible to switch in case the track was damaged. That is exactly what happened in Utah where a
flash flood washed away a section of
track. Crews of Chinese laborers and
mostly Irish gandydancers worked
feverishly to complete a temporary bypass
before the express came through. They
just made it. Instead of stopping and
waiting for construction, the train only had to temporarily slow down to pass.
Further west smoke alerted the crew to a tinderbox fire on an axle. Rather than stop for repairs a trainman leaned far out with one foot on the car’s foot bar and one hand on a ladder rung, opened the axle access hatch with his other hand, stuffed the reservoir box with oil soaked cotton, and added more oil
from a can to lubricate the overheated axle.
The train barely slowed down
as he hung there by one hand. The axle
cooled and the express rolled on.
As they
approached the Sierras, the brakes on
the Pullman Palace Car failed. Since the car could not be replaced, two empty baggage cars were attached behind
it on the train to provide extra braking
as the train made the steep descent
into California from the mountains. In
those days each car had hand operated
brakes manned by brakemen
standing on ladders at the top rear of each car.
The Lightning Express was greeted with huge crowds when it rolled into Oakland. Photo from a popular series of parlor stereoscopic cards of the trip. |
Despite these misadventures the train rolled into Oakland on June 4, 1876 in
a record shattering 3 days, 11 hours
and 39 minutes. That was a full 12 hours before its projected arrival,
setting off a scramble to rearrange the
planned welcoming ceremonies. None
the less, huge crowds and every
available dignitary were on hand
to greet the train and escort the
passengers to a waiting ferry to San Francisco where another crowd awaited.
Jarrett,
Barrett, and the company were feted at
a grand banquet in the city. Engineer Small was hailed as a hero and
Jarrett arranged for a gold medal to
be struck for him. The publicity stunt was a huge success. Henry V
had a long run to nothing but packed houses and star Barrett became a
household name.
The country was
still buzzing about the trip for the
next three weeks until word of Custer’s
Last Stand pushed it from the
news.
To accomplish
the trip the train often had to speed
along over 60 MPH. Taking into
account stops it averaged 41 MPH
over the whole length of the trip. At
the time 40 MPH was top speed on most trains and daily averages were about 20
MPH.
For comparison a comparable automobile trip today over Interstate Highway with drivers
constantly relieving one another can be driven almost exactly 2 days. Current Amtrak
passenger service over roughly the same route is scheduled for 3 days, 9 hours and 15 minutes, only 2 hours faster
than the Lightning Express. Of course
even Amtrak will admit that it seldom
meets that schedule.
No comments:
Post a Comment