Free Fire and Steam by Christian Wolmar Page A

clothes were ruined by the fiery emissions of the engine. As with the Stockton &Darlington, the first-class carriages, which had three compartments taking six people each, still looked like stagecoach bodies and appeared rather unstable as they were perched on two sets of wheels mounted close together. Not surprisingly, the journey was pretty bumpy, not just due to the weakness of the springs and the vagaries of the track, but because the carriages were linked by simple chains which meant that nothing prevented them hitting each other as the train accelerated or slowed down. To cushion the blows, the seats in first class, which were separated by armrests, had strong leather mufflers for the head but this was not enough to stop the well-to-do from complaining loudly.
    Nevertheless, they were well treated, pampered even, by today’s standards. Omnibus connections, horse-drawn, of course, to the city centre were available gratis at both ends of the journey, and porters were on hand at the stations to carry their bags. Tips were expressly forbidden on pain of dismissal of the poor porter, which must have been a difficult rule to enforce since travellers on stagecoaches were in the habit of paying regular tips to ensure a comfortable seat or a safe place to put their luggage. And the porters, who were paid a trifling couple of shillings a day (one passenger’s fare would easily cover that), could certainly have done with the extra cash.
    Here again, the Liverpool & Manchester was establishing a tradition that would prove durable: the employment of a tightly controlled workforce that was expected to be loyal. The workers were uniformed and had to submit to military-style discipline with the company issuing ‘orders of the day’ early every morning. They could be sacked instantly for any serious transgressions or, for more minor offences, have their wages docked with ‘fines’. In contrast, as experienced railwaymen began to be sought by other companies, they had to give three months’ notice if they wanted to leave, a rule designed to prevent poaching. Selection of employees was haphazard, often through word of mouth or friendship, with ex-military men particularly sought after, and training was non-existent. The hours were long, often between sixteen and eighteen hours per day for six days a week; so long, in fact, that they were later seen as a safety problem which needed to be addressed by legislation (see Chapter 10 ). In compensation, the wages were high with railway labourers receiving twice the pay of their equivalents on thefarms. The drivers, enginemen as they were known, quickly established themselves as an elite of the manual workforce, earning as much as £2 per week, and developed that independence of spirit necessitated by the difficult task of keeping these complicated and frequently misbehaving engines running smoothly. There were injunctions not to run too fast, as witnessed by the fate of one Simon Fenwick who in 1832 found himself at a disciplinary hearing for having completed the journey in 68 minutes, rather than the two hours recommended by Stephenson as a measure to limit wear and tear of the track and locomotives. There was, too, an officer class, the clerks and managers who worked in offices wearing white shirts and suits, but even they started out, as lads, on a mere 5s (25p) per week.
    The permanent nature of the job in contrast to the transience of most comparable unskilled or semi-skilled work, the decent wages, the uniform and the respect earned by working for a service that was at the cutting edge of technology all contributed to a burgeoning sense of corporate loyalty and dedication that no other industry or business has ever managed before or since. The railways were special and everyone seemed to sense it right from the beginning. For its part, the railway company may have been a hard taskmaster, but the directors saw themselves as responsible employers with an almost