A writer inCassell’s Magazineremarks:—“We hear individuals now and then talking of the ease with which the season-ticket holder journeys backwards and forwards daily from Brighton. By the young, healthy man, no doubt, the journey is done without fatigue; but, after a certain time of life, the process of being conveyed by express fifty miles night and morning is anything but refreshing. The shaking and jolting of the best constructed carriage is not such as we experience in a coach on an ordinary road; but is made up of an infinite series of slight concussions, which jar the spinal column and keep the muscles of the back and sides in continued action.” Dr. Radcliff, who has witnessed many cases of serious injury to the nervous system from this cause, contributed the following conclusive case some years ago to the pages of theLancet:—“A hale and stout gentleman, aged sixty-three, came to me complainingof inability to sleep, numbness in limbs, great depression, and all the symptoms of approaching paralytic seizure. He was very actively engaged in large monetary transactions, which were naturally a source of anxiety. He had a house in town; but, having been advised by the late Doctor Todd to live at Brighton, he had taken a house there, and travelled to and fro daily by the express train. The symptoms of which he complained began to appear about four months after taking up his residence at Brighton, and he had undergone a variety of treatment without benefit, and was just hesitating about trying homæopathy when I saw him. I advised him to give up the journey for a month, and make the experiment of living quietly in town. In a fortnight his rest was perfectly restored, and the other symptoms rapidly disappeared, so that at the end of the month he was as well as ever again. After three months, he was persuaded to join his family at Brighton, and resumed his daily journeys. In a few days his rest became broken and in two months all the old symptoms returned. By giving up the journeys and again residing in town, he was once more perfectly restored; but, it being the end of the season, when the house at Brighton could not readily be disposed of, and yielding to the wishes of his family, he again resumed his journeys. In a month’s time he was rendered so seriously unwell that he hesitated no longer in taking up his permanent abode in town; and since that time—now more than two years ago—he has enjoyed perfect health.”
The following appeared in theIrish Times(Dublin, 1884): “It is not generally known that the country people along the line of the electric railway make strange uses of the insulated rails, which are the medium of electricity on this tramway, in connection with one of which an extraordinary and very remarkable occurrence is reported. People have no objection to touch the rail and receive a smart shock, which is, however, harmless, at least so far. On Thursday evening a ploughman, returning from work, stood upon this rail in order to mount his horse. The rail is elevated on insulators 18 inches above the level of the tramway.As soon as the man placed his hands upon the back of the animal it received a shock, which at once brought it down, and falling against the rail it died instantly. The remarkable part is, that the current of electricity which proved fatal to the brute must have passed through the body of the man and proved harmless to him.”
A gate-keeper in the employ of the Hessian Railway Company was recently the hero of an amusing incident. His wife being ill, he went himself to milk the goat; but the stubborn creature would not let him come near it, as it had always been accustomed to have this operation performed by its mistress. After many fruitless efforts, he at length decided to put on his wife’s clothes. The experiment succeeded admirably; but the man had not time to doff his disguise before a train approached, and the gatekeeper ran to his accustomed post. His appearance produced quite a sensation among the officials of the passing train. The case was reported and an inquiry instituted, which however resulted in his favour, as the railway authorities granted the honest gate-keeper a gratuity of ten marks for the faithful discharge of his duties.
The Marquis of Hartington, when laying the foundation stone of a public hall to be erected in memory of the inventor and practical introducer of railway locomotion, expressed himself as follows:—“That almost all the progress which this country has made in the last half-century is mainly due to the development of the railway system. All the other vast developments of the power of steam, all the developments of manufacturing and mining industry would have availed but little for the greatness and prosperity of this country—in fact they could hardly have existed at all if there had been wanting those internal communications which have been furnished by the locomotive engine to railways brought into use by Stephenson. The changes which have been wrought in the history of our country by the invention, the industry, and perseverance of one manare something that we may call astounding. There are some things which exceed the dreams of poetry and romance. We are justly proud of our imperial possessions, but the steam engine, and especially the locomotive steam-engine, the invention of George Stephenson—has not only increased the number of the Queen’s subjects by millions, but has added more millions to her Majesty’s revenues than have been produced by any tax ever invented by any statesman. Comfort and happiness, prosperity and plenty, have been brought to every one of her Majesty’s subjects by this invention in far greater abundance than has ever been produced by any law, the production of the wisest and most patriotic Parliament. The results of the career of a man who began life as a herd boy, and who up to eighteen did not know how to read or write, and yet was able to confer such vast benefits upon his country and mankind for all time, is worthy of a national and noble memorial.”
Of all celebrations in the North of England there was never the like of the centenary of the birth-day of George Stephenson, June 9th, 1881. The enthusiastic crowds of people assembled to honour the occasion were never before so numerous on any public holiday. Sir William Armstrong, C.B., in his speech at the great banquet remarked:—“The memory of a great man now dead is a solemn subject for a toast, and I approach the task of proposing it with a full sense of its gravity. We are met to celebrate the birth of George Stephenson, which took place just 100 years ago—a date which nearly coincides with that at which the genius of Watt first gave practical importance to the steam-engine. Up to that time the inventive faculties of man had lain almost dormant, but with the advent of the steam-engine there commenced that splendid series of discoveries and inventions which have since, to use the words of Dr. Bruce, revolutionised the state of the world. Amongst these the most momentous in its consequences to the human race is the railway system—(cheers)—and with that system including the locomotive engine as its essential element, the name of George Stephenson will ever be pre-eminently associated. In saying this, I do not mean to ignore theimportant parts played by others in the development of the railway system; but it is not my duty on this occasion to review the history of that system and to assign to each person concerned his proper share of the general credit. To do this would be an invidious task, and out of place at a festival held in honour of George Stephenson only. I shall, therefore, pass over all names but his, not even making an exception in favour of his distinguished son. (Cheers.) It seldom or never happens that any great invention can be exclusively attributed to any one man; but it is generally the case that amongst those who contribute to the ultimate success there is one conspicuous figure that towers above all the rest, and such is the figure which George Stephenson presents in relation to the railway system. (Cheers.) To be sensible of the benefits we have derived from railways and locomotives let us consider for a moment what would be our position if they were taken from us. The present business of the country could not be carried on, the present population could not be maintained, property would sink to half its value—(hear, hear)—and instead of prosperity and progress we should have collapse and retrogression on all sides. (Cheers.) What would Newcastle be if it ceased to be a focus of railways? How would London be supplied if it had to fall back upon turnpike roads and horse traffic? In short, England as it is could not exist without railways and locomotives; and it is only our familiarity with them that blunts our sense of their prodigious importance. As to the future effects of railways, it is easy to see that they are destined to diffuse industrial populations over those vast unoccupied areas of the globe that abound in natural resources, and only wait for facilities of access and transport to become available for the wants of man. There is yet scope for an enormous extension of railways all over the world, and the fame of Stephenson will continue to grow as railways continue to spread. (Loud cheers.) But I should do scant justice to the memory of George Stephenson if I dwelt only on the results of his achievements. Many a great reputation has been marred by faults of character, but this was not the case with George Stephenson. His manly simplicity and frankness, and his kindly nature won for him the respectand esteem of all who knew him both in the earlier and later periods of his career—(cheers)—but the prominent feature in his character was his indomitable perseverance, which broke down all obstacles, and converted even his failures and disappointments into stepping stones to success. It was not the desire for wealth that actuated him in the pursuit of his objects, but it was a noble enthusiasm, far more conducive to great ends than the hope of gain, that carried him forward to his goal. Unselfish enthusiasm such as his always gives a tone of heroism to a character, and heroism above all things commands the homage of mankind. Newcastle may well be proud of its connection with George Stephenson, and the proceedings of this day testify how much his memory is cherished in this his native district. Any memorial dedicated to him would be appropriate to this occasion, and if such memorial were connected with scientific instruction it would be in harmony with his well-known appreciation of the value of scientific education, and of the sacrifices he made to give his son the advantage of such an education. (Cheers.) I now, gentlemen, have to propose to you the toast which has been committed to me, and which is ‘Honour to the memory of George Stephenson, and may the college to be erected to his memory prove worthy of his fame.’ I must ask you to drink this toast standing; and consider that the birth of Stephenson is a subject of jubilation. I think that although he is dead we may drink that toast with hearty cheering. (Hear, hear, and loud cheers.)
Mr. George Robert Stephenson, who was warmly cheered on rising to respond to the toast, said: “Mr. Mayor and gentlemen,—Let me, in the first place thank Sir William Armstrong for the many kind words he has uttered in honour of the memory of George Stephenson. It is true that he was, as Sir William said, one of the most kind-hearted and unselfish men that ever lived; but I suppose that no man has had a more up-hill struggle during the present century. (Cheers). I have now in my possession documents that would show in his early life the extraordinary and peculiar nature of the opposition that was brought against him as a poor man. He was opposed by many of the leading engineers of the day; some of these men usinglanguage which, it is not incorrect to say, was not only injurious but wicked. This is not the proper occasion to weary you with a long speech, but with the view of showing the peculiar mode of engineers reporting against each other, I could very much wish, with your permission, to read a few sentences from documents that I have in my possession, dating back to 1823. (Hear, hear). This, gentlemen, will clearly show the sort of opposition I have alluded to. It occurs at the end of a report by an opponent upon some projected work on which the four brothers were engaged:—‘But we cannot conclude without saying that such a mechanic as Mr. Stephenson, who can neither calculate, nor lay his designs on paper, or distinguish the effect from the cause, may do very well for repairing engines when they are constructed, but for building new ones, he must be at great loss to his employers, from the many alterations that will take place in engine-building, when he goes by what we call the rule of thumb.’ In a preceding sentence he is taunted with being like the fly going round on a crank axle, and shouting ‘What a dust I am kicking up.’ Gentlemen, the dust that George Stephenson kicked up formed itself into a cloud, and in every part of the globe to which it reached it carried with it and planted the seeds of civilization and wealth. Notwithstanding the hard and illiberal treatment to which he was exposed, he was not beaten; on the contrary, by his genius and his never-failing spirit, he raised himself above the level of the very men who opposed every effort he made towards the advancement of engineering science—efforts which have resulted in a vast improvement of our means for extracting the valuable products of the earth, and also of our means of conveying them at a cheap rate to distant markets. It is not too much to say that George Stephenson headed a movement by which alone could employment have been found for an ever-increasing population.”
In the town of Chesterfield the Centenary was celebrated most befittingly. It was there the father of railways spent his latter days, and there he died. Although there was not such a flood of oratory as at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, many interesting speeches were delivered in connection with the event. We give some extracts from an address deliveredby the Rev. Samuel C. Sarjant, B.A., Curate-in-Charge at that time—delivered at Holy Trinity Church, Chesterfield. An address which, for ability, nice discrimination of thought, and true appreciation of the subject, would not disgrace any pulpit in Christendom:—
“We meet to-day for the highest of all purposes, the worship of Almighty God. But we also meet to show our regard for the memory of one of the great and gifted dead. It is no small distinction of this town that the last days of George Stephenson were spent in it. And it adds to the interest of this church that it contains his mortal remains. With little internally to appeal to the eye, or to gratify taste, this church has yet a spell which will draw visitors from every part of the world. Men will come hither from all lands to look with reverence upon the simple resting place of him who was the father of the Locomotive and of the Railway system. And perhaps the naked simplicity which marks that spot is in keeping with a life, the grandeur of which was due solely to the man himself, and not to outward helps and circumstances . . .
“Toil has its roll of heroes, but few, if any, of them are greater than he whose birth we commemorate to-day. He was pre-eminently a self-made man, one who ‘achieved’ greatness by his own exertions. Granting that he was gifted with powers of body and mind above the average, these were his only advantages. The rest was due to hard work, patient, persistent effort. He had neither wealth, schooling, patrons, nor favouring circumstances. He comes into the arena like a naked athlete to wrestle in his own strength with the difficulties before him. And these were many and great!
“I need not dwell upon the details of a life which is so well known to most, and to some present so vividly, from personal intercourse and friendship. We all know what a battle he fought, how nobly and well, first striving by patient plodding effort to remove his own ignorance, cheerfully bending himself to every kind of work that came in his way, and seeking to gain not only manual expertness, but a mastery of principles. We know how he went on toiling, observing, experimenting, saying little—for he wasnever given to the ‘talk of the lips’—but doing much, letting slip no chance of getting knowledge, and of turning it to practical account. He was one of those, who
While his companions sleptWas toiling upwards in the night.
While his companions sleptWas toiling upwards in the night.
And in due time his quiet work bore fruit. He invented a safety-lamp which alone should have entitled him to the gratitude of posterity. He then set himself to improve the locomotive, and fit it for the future which his prescient mind discerned, and on a fair field he vanquished all competitors. He then sought to adapt the roadway to the engine and make it fit for its new work. And then, hardest task of all, he had to convince the public that railway travelling was a possible thing; that it could he made safe, cheap, and rapid. In doing this he was compelled to design, plan, and execute almost everything with his own mind and hand. All classes and interests were against him, the engineers, the land owners, the legislature, and the public. He had to encounter the phantoms of ignorance and fear, the solid resistance of vested interests, and the bottomless quagmires of Chat Moss. But he triumphed! And it was a well-earned reward as he looked down from his pleasant retreat at Tapton upon the iron bands which glistened below, to know that they were part of a network which was spreading over the whole land and becoming the one highway of transit and commerce. Nor was this all his satisfaction. He knew that Europe and America were welcoming the railway, and that it was promising to link together the whole civilized world.
“Of the ‘profit’ of his labours to humanity I scarcely venture to speak, since it cannot possibly be told in a few words. The railway system has revolutionised society. It has powerfully affected every class, every interest and department of life. It has given an incredible impulse to commerce, quickened human thought, created a new language, new habits, tastes and pleasures. It has opened up fields of industry and enterprise inaccessible and unknown before. It has cheapened the necessaries and comforts of life, enhanced the value of property, promoted the fellowship of class with class, and brought unnumbered benefits and advantages within the reach of all. And it is yet, as to the world at large, but in the infancy of its development.
“How much, then, do we owe, under God, to George Stephenson. How much, not merely to his energy and diligence, but to his courage, patience, and uprightness? For these qualities, quite as much as gifts of genius and insight, contributed to his final success. He was crowned because he strove ‘lawfully.’ His patience was as great in waiting as his energy in working. He did not work from greed or self-glorification; and therefore the hour of success, when it came, found him the same modest, self-restrained man as before. He neither overrated the value of the system which he had set up, nor made it a means of speculation and gambling. He was a man of sterling honesty and uprightness—of self-control, simple in his habits and tastes, given to plain living and high thinking. And yet he was most kindly, genial, and cheery, of strong affections, considerate of his workpeople, tender to his family, full of love to little children and pet animals, brimming with fun and good humour. He had the gentleness of all noble natures, the largeness of mind and heart which could recognise ability and worth in others, and give rivals their due. For the young inventor, or for such of his helpers as showed marked diligence or promise, he had ready sympathy and aid. Nor ought we to pass unnoticed his love of nature and of natural beauty. Strong throughout his whole life, this was especially conspicuous at its close. Such leisure as his last days brought was spent amidst flowers and fruits, gardens and greeneries which he had planned and filled, and from the midst of whose treasures he could look forth over venerable trees and green fields upon a wide and varied landscape. And yet, even in this relaxation, the old energy and earnestness of purpose asserted themselves. He toiled and experimented, watching the growth of his plants and flowers with more than professional pains. Nor is it improbable that the ardour which led him to confine himself for hours together in a heated and unhealthy atmosphere led to his fatal illness.
“We are bound, then, to mark and admit how much the moral element in the worker contributed to his success, and to the freshness of the regard which is felt for his memory and name. England is proud of his works, but prouder still of the man who did them. Far different would havebeen the result if impatience, ungenerousness, and love of greed had marred his life and work. The tributes of respect which we gladly lay upon his tomb to-day, would probably have been placed elsewhere.”
Many years ago the editor of this book and an elderly lady, the widow of a well-known farmer, took tickets from Little Bytham for Edenham in Lincolnshire. They were the only passengers, and as the railway passed for nearly two miles through Grimsthorpe park, she asked the driver if he would stop at a certain spot which would have saved us both perhaps half-a-mile’s walk. The request was politely refused. After going a good distance the train was suddenly pulled up. I opened the window and found it had stopped at the very spot we desired. The stoker came running by with a fine hare which the train had run over. I said we can get out now and he said, Oh yes. And so through this strange misadventure to poor pussy our walk was much shortened.
Some years before the above occurrence I was travelling by the early morning mail train from the Midlands to the West of England. At Taunton I perceived a crowd of persons gathered at the front of the train. I went forward and saw a corpse was being removed from the van to a hearse outside the station. On reading the inscription on the coffin plate I was somewhat taken aback to find my own name. So Richard Pike living and Richard Pike dead had been travelling by the same train. Perhaps rarely, if ever, have two more singular circumstances occurred in connection with railway travelling.
Serjeant Ballantine in hisExperiences of a Barrister’s Life, says:—“There was a singular physical fact connected with him (Sir Edward Belcher), he had entirely lost the sense of taste; this he frequently complained of, and could not account for. A friend of mine, an eminent member of the Bar, suffers in the same way, but is able to trace the phenomenon to the shock that he suffered in a railway collision.”
A party of gentlemen who had been to Doncaster to see the St. Leger run, came back to the station and secured a compartment. As the train was about to start, a well-dressed and respectable looking man entered and took the only vacant seat. Shortly after they had started, he said, “Well, gentlemen, I suppose you have all been to the races to-day?” They replied they had. “Well,” said the stranger, “I have been, and have unfortunately lost every penny I had, and have nothing to pay my fare home, but if you promise not to split on me, I have a plan that I think will carry me through.” They all consented. He then asked the gentleman that sat opposite him if he would kindly lend him his ticket for a moment; on its being handed to him he took it and wrote his own name and address on the back of the ticket and returned it to the owner. Nothing more was said until they arrived at the place where they collected tickets; being the races, the train was very crowded, and the ticket-collector was in a great hurry; the gentlemen all pushed their tickets into his hands. The collector then asked the gentleman without a ticket for his, who replied he had already given it him. The collector stoutly denied it. The gentleman protested he had, and, moreover, would not be insulted, and ordered him to call the station-master. On the station-master coming, he said he wished to report the collector for insulting him. “I make a practice to always write my name and address on the back of my ticket, and if your man looks at his tickets he will find one of that description.” The man looked and, of course, found the ticket, whereupon he said he must have been mistaken, and both he and the stationmaster apologised, and asked him not to report the case further.
Complaints are sometimes made of the want of due respect paid on the part of porters to passengers’ luggage. It appears that occasionally a like lack of caution is manifested by owners to their own property. It is said that on a trainlately on a western railway in America, some passengers were discussing the carriage of explosives. One man contended that it was impossible to prevent or detect this; if people were not allowed to ship nitro-glycerine or dynamite legitimately, they’d smuggle it through their baggage. This assertion was contradicted emphatically, and the passenger was laughed at, flouted, and ignominiously put to scorn. Rising up in his wrath, he produced a capacious valise from under the seat, and, slapping it emphatically on the cover, said, “Oh, you think they don’t, eh? Don’t carry explosives in cars? What’s this?” and he gave the valise a resounding thump, “Thar’s two hundred good dynamite cartridges in that air valise; sixty pounds of deadly material; enough to blow this yar train and the whole township from Cook County to Chimborazo. Thar’s dynamite enough,” he continued; but he was without an auditor, for the passengers had fled incontinently, and he could have sat down upon twenty-two seats if he had wanted to. And the respectful way in which the baggage men on the out-going trains in the evening handled the trunks and valises was pleasant to see.
The neglect of carefulness appears, in one instance at least, to have involved inconvenience to the offending official. “An unknown genius,” says an American periodical, “the other day entrusted a trunk, with a hive of bees in it, to the tender mercies of a Syracuse ‘baggage-smasher.’ The company will pay for the bees, and the doctor thinks his patient will be round in a fortnight or so.”
—Williams’sOur Iron Roads.
Several Sundays ago a Philadelphia gentleman took his little son on a railway excursion. The little fellow was looking out of the window, when his father slipped the hat off the boy’s head. The latter was much grieved at his supposed loss, when papa consoled him by saying that he would “whistle it back.” A little later he whistled and the hat reappeared. Not long after the little lad flung his hat out of the window, shouting, “Now, papa, whistle it back again!” A roar of laughter in the car served to enhance the confusion of perplexed papa. Moral: Don’t attempt to deceive little boys with plausible stories.
A good story is told of the Manchester, Sheffield, and Lincoln Railway Company. A week or two since, the company ran an excursion train to London and back, the excursion being intended for their workmen at Gorton and Manchester. There was an enormous demand for the tickets; so enormous that the officials began, to use an expressive term, “to smell a rat.” But the sale of the tickets was allowed to proceed. The journey to London was made, and a considerable number of the passengers congratulated themselves upon the remarkably cheap outing they were having. But on the return journey they made a most unpleasant discovery. Their tickets were demanded at Retford, and then the ticket-collectors insisted upon the holder of every ticket proving that he was in the employ of the company. The result can be imagined. There were more persons in the train who had no connection with the company than there were of the company’s employés; and the former had either to pay a full fare to and from London, or to give their names and addresses preparatory to being summoned. We hear, from a reliable source, that the fares thus obtained amount to about £300.
—Echo, Sept. 23, 1880.
We learn from theColoniesthat a monkey signalman manages the railway traffic at Witenhage, South Africa. The human signalman has had the misfortune to lose both his legs, and has trained a baboon to discharge his duties. Jacky pushes his master about on a trolly, and, under his directions, works the lever to set the signals with a most ludicrous imitation of humanity. He puts down the lever, looks round to see that the correct signal is up, and then gravely watches the approaching train, his master being at hand to correct any mistake.
The guard of an English railway carriage recently refused to allow a naturalist to carry a live hedgehog with him. The traveller, indignant, pulled a turtle from his wallet and said, “Take this too!” But the guard replied good naturedly, “Ho, no, sir. It’s dogs you can’t carry; and dogs is dogs, cats is dogs, and ’edge’ogs is dogs, but turtles is hinsects.”
In the discussion on Mr. C. Douglas Fox’s recent paper on the Pennsylvania railway, Mr. Barlow, the engineer of the Midland, observed that there was a certain attractive power about a Pullman’s carriage, which ought not to be overlooked, a power which brought passengers to it who would not otherwise travel by railway. A Pullman’s carriage weighed somewhere about twenty tons. The cost of hauling that weight was about 1½d. per mile; that was the sum which the Midland Company proposed to charge for first-class passengers, so that one first-class passenger would pay the haulage of the carriage. If the attractive power of the carriage brought more than one first-class passenger it would of course pay itself.
Herepath’s Railway Journal, Jan. 23, 1875.
The SpringfieldRepublican, of 1877, is responsible for the following story:—“The industry of railroading has developed some thrifty characters, among whom a former employé of the New York, New Haven, and Hartford road deserves high rank. He was at one time at work in the Springfield depot, and while taking a trunk out of a baggage car from Boston he was thrown over and hurt, the baggage-smashing art being for a time reversed. The injured employé suffered terribly, and crawled around on crutches until the Boston and Albany and the New Haven roads united and gave him 6000 dollars. He was cured the next day. Shortly afterwards a man on the Boston and Albany road was killed, and the Company gave his widow 3,000 dollars. The former cripple, who had scored 6,000 dollars already, soon married her, and thus counted 9,000 dollars. He recovered his health so completely that he was able again to work on the railroad, but finally, not being hurt again within a reasonable time, he retired to a farm which he had bought with a part of the proceeds of his former calamities.”
It would be difficult to close this series of Railway Anecdotes more appropriately than in the words of George Stephenson’s celebrated son Robert at a banquet given to him at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, in August, 1850. “It was but as yesterday,” he said, “that he was engaged as an assistant in tracing the line of the Stockton and Darlington Railway. Since that period, the Liverpool and Manchester, the London and Birmingham, and a hundred other great works had sprung into vigorous existence. So suddenly, so promptly had they been accomplished, that it appeared to him like the realization of fabled powers, or the magician’s wand. Hills had been cut down, and valleys had been filled up; and where this simple expedient was inapplicable, high and magnificent viaducts had been erected; and where mountains intervened, tunnels of unexampled magnitude had been unhesitatingly undertaken. Works had been scattered over the face of our country, bearing testimony to the indomitable enterprise of the nation and the unrivalled skill of its artists. In referring thus to the railway works, he must refer also to the improvement of the locomotive engine. This was as remarkable as the other works were gigantic. They were, in fact, necessary to each other. The locomotive engine, independent of the railway, would be useless. They had gone on together, and they now realized all the expectations that were entertained of them. It would be unseemly, as it would be unjust, if he were to conceal the circumstances under which these works had been constructed. No engineer could succeed without having men about him as highly-gifted as himself. By such men he had been supported for many years past; and, though he might have added his mite, yet it was to their co-operation that all his success was owing.”