Cornwall.University

 

 

Cornish Engineer

Richard Trevithick

---

Father of THE

Industrial Revolution

 

 

 

 

Cornish engineer Richard Trevithick

invented the world's first practical

high-pressure steam engine

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Phil Monckton, Cornwall & IOS Press

 

Kingsley Rickard -- vice-chairman of the Trevithick Society, and a proper Cornish gentleman -- waves to the crowd aboard the Puffing Devil, a replica of the world's first car, invented by Cornish engineering great, Richard Trevithick     Picture taken in Tehidy Road, Camborne on the lower part of 'Camborne Hill' as the replica passed the plaque to commemorate the first journey up the hill 200-years-ago from the workshop on that site where it was assembled.     L-R : Councillor John Woodward, engineer and steersman, Anthony Tilling, waterman, from CompAir UK, the company who provided factory space and a great deal of assistance in the building, Kingsley Rickard, and Arthur Young, voluntary engineer who worked long and hard to assemble the locomotive. Next to steersman (hidden), is the driver, Project Engineer John Sawle

 

 

 

 

Article written by Phil Hosken

 

 

Nearly five years ago, the Council of the Trevithick Society decided to support the building of a replica of Richard Trevithick's 1801 Camborne Road Locomotive. It is certain that none of those present had any idea what would happen on the day that the vehicle made its first public appearance.

 

From the very beginning plans were laid for the replica to be finished and in full working order for Camborne Trevithick Day 2001, the day chosen for the celebration of Trevithick's public demonstration of the use of high-pressure steam. It was likely that Trevithick had his problems the first time he took his 'Puffer' out in 1801 but they bore no similarity to those 200 years later.

 

The weekend commencing the 28th April 2001 was to be like nothing else in the history of the Trevithick Society. It started at about seven in the morning when Kingsley Rickard and his small team erected their award winning bright yellow stall for the society in the car park at the Trevithick Surgery.

 

Soon afterwards the engineering team assembled at the Holman factory of CompAir UK to prepare the star of the parade for its important outing. The engine was manhandled into the yard and preparations made to raise steam. There was clearly plenty of time before the planned public appearance at 11 o'clock outside the factory gates.

 

As the fire was laid and the first smoke appeared David Bray and Arthur Young set about the tender ministrations required by a steam engine of such an ancient design. Bolts were checked everywhere and the engine was lubricated. The last drops of a thick, dull green oil were used. It had been presented to the West of England Steam Engine Society by South Crofty mine when Robinson's 80" steam engine was laid to rest many years previously.

 

A small group of CompAir employees chatted merrily and added to the excitement and enthusiasm as Jon Eastman stoked the fire and the final specks of dust were carefully removed from the recently painted black boiler.

 

The media, always looking for a good story, brought out their cameras, recorders and note books. Much was made of the thousands of hours of skilled work involved in the building of this engine. A group of talented steam engine owners who had arrived in Camborne for the festivities admired the authentic workmanship before them and congratulated everyone they could find. John Sawle and his team were feeling justly pleased with themselves.

 

Then the first sign that the day was not going to be without its problems became apparent. Although the fire had been burning fiercely for some time the boiler pressure was reluctant to rise. Maybe the cold wind that morning was undermining the efforts of the firemen. Time was running out so several CompAir employees came to the rescue with an air compressor (not a difficult item to find in CompAir where thousands are made) and an air line provided a forced draught.

 

Soon a working pressure was in sight and the crew slipped away to change into their period costume, an essential part of the re-enactment. Once they were all looking the part a driving pin was inserted into a crank and the engine eased gently forward. With the wheel chocks away and the brakes off, John opened the steam valve and the little engine and its crew were away.

 

The crew of ten was divided into those being carried and those who were marshals. The loco could be operated by two people, the driver John Sawle, the Project Engineer with 38 years experience of steam locomotives, who was responsible for the engine operation and braking and the steersman, Arthur Young, a skilled voluntary engineer who had built the vehicle and whose sole job was now its direction. All the others were along for the historic ride but had also received instructions how to act if more marshals were required. Two were designated as handlers of the wheel chocks in case a need arose to use them.

 

It was quite a distance from the Number 5 Building to the factory gates. The engine was now leaving what had been its home for the last year and making its own way into Camborne. During the previous week period posters had been distributed around Camborne inviting people to accompany the engine on its journey from the factory to the town. Consequently the locomotive was greeted by a great crowd in Foundry Road. With another whistle to acknowledge their waves, cheers and camera clicks the little engine puffed around the Tesco roundabout and was soon on its way along Centenary Street.

 

From the design stage the locomotive had been intended to have a cruising speed of 3.5 m.p.h. in order to make it suitable to take part in the Trevithick Day parade and not run away from the dancers. It could clearly travel a little faster but its unusual appearance with a plunging piston, flailing connecting rods and with steam and smoke issuing from various orifices made it look much faster than it could possibly go.

 

The long straight road was clear and, although there was little pressure in the boiler (about 25 lbs/sq") it was sufficient to travel at a merry trot with the crowds skipping closely behind. This was an historic moment and it was savoured by all that were on board or saw the engine on its journey that day.

 

A reverential stop was made at the statue of Richard Trevithick outside the library. Another great crowd was assembled and an enthusiastic cheer went up again. Following a gentle turn into Basset Street the little engine was dwarfed by some of its direct descendants in the form of the traction engines which were lined up in preparation for the parade. Basset Street echoed to a tremendous welcome of shrill whistles. The atmosphere was exhilarating.

 

During all the long months of construction no real thought had been given to the effect the locomotive would have when other people saw it for the first time. In one stroke the little engine had been given life and a family of thousands. It was warm, breathing, chuffing and dribbling. Thousands of people immediately took it to their hearts.

 

There was little room to manoeuvre in the road outside the Trevithick Surgery car park so the skill of the crew and the agility of the replica were put to the test before the eyes of the public. A deft bit of driving in the confined space was completed to another roar of approval and the locomotive was neatly parked. The pin was removed from the drive and the engine was allowed to idle, chuffing contentedly.

 

The society completely surrounded the engine with a screen of John Sawle's sheep hurdles to keep curious fingers off the hot boiler and the moving parts. Everyone wanted to see what Richard Trevithick had produced against the advice of James Watt 200-years-ago.

 

 

 

The world's first high-pressure steam engine

invented by Cornishman Richard Trevithick

at Camborne, Cornwall, Great Britain,

marked the beginning of THE

worldwide Industrial Revolution

 

 

 

All those involved in the project were quizzed endlessly about the intricacies of the engine and how it had been made. Some people just stood silently and marvelled. Cameras clicked incessantly.

 

Frank Trevithick Okuno, a direct descendent of the Cornish inventor, had made a long railway journey in poor health from London. He was ecstatic that the project had come to a successful conclusion. There was a short shower of rain but that did nothing to deter the crowds. It seemed as though nothing could really go wrong that day.

 

Business in the Trevithick Society stall was very brisk. Over a hundred of the little booklet published by the society about Trevithick and the building of the replica were sold. Another attraction was the respected author Anthony Burton who was signing copies of his book, 'Richard Trevithick, Giant of Steam'. The total stock of forty books was sold in about half an hour. There were over two hundred transactions that day in the little yellow stall. One had to marvel how so many people had managed to get in and out with all those other people outside pressing to see the loco.

 

After the cracach of Camborne had had their lunch in the nearby Regal Hotel it was time for the little engine to make its way back to Trevithick's statue where it would take up its position to lead the parade.

 

With help from Barry Tiddy of the Trevithick Day Committee and strict instructions to all to stand well clear, the sheep hurdles were removed and realigned to stop anyone stepping in front of the locomotive as it made its way across the pavement into Basset Road. With John Sawle as driver in charge of the power and Arthur Young as steersman the manoeuvre was made faultlessly.

 

As it went up Basset Road at walking pace the cheering spectators were persuaded to stand on the pavements. At the entrance to Basset Street the engine was stopped to attract the attention of people by the statue at the other end of the road.

 

Cornish Engineer Richard Trevithick

 

 

With a couple of adjustments and a loud whistle the engine started off along Basset Street ringed by marshals of the society. It passed the stationary steam traction engines which were waiting to follow it in the parade and circled around Tom Brogden's replica of Trevithick's 1803 London Road Carriage which took up position directly behind it.

 

A large crowd was waiting at the statue and the cheering started again. Cameras clicked in the sunshine and Arthur Young received a bicentennial medal from his wife, Pam, for Cap'n Dick. He climbed a ladder against the statue to place a medal around the neck of the great man himself. To cap it all he climbed again to place a most dignified hat on the great man's head. The crowd roared their appreciation.

 

What happened next was as bewildering to the crowd as it was to the crew. Two policemen instructed John to take the locomotive off the road and park it where it could not lead the parade. Everyone was dumbfounded. Upon being pressed the police said that the Trevithick Day Committee had decided that the little engine was uncontrollable, was erratic in its movements and was a danger to the public. Further questioning revealed that they had only spoken to the chairman of the committee.

 

The police were clearly not in a mood to negotiate and said that if the organisers did not want the Camborne Road Locomotive to lead its two hundredth celebratory parade, for whatever reason, that was their decision.

 

Two hundred years ago a woman who had clearly seen the 'Puffin' Devil' was reported as calling to the Almighty to save her when Trevithick demonstrated his first steam carriage. This year Chairman Clive Carter said of the replica, "I think the sight of her with all pistons and crank rods going up and down made some people feel uneasy. Nothing has been seen like it on the streets of Camborne for 200 years".

 

The media, always sniffing out a good story, were soon on the spot again and John was invited to make a statement on air over BBC Radio Cornwall. He spoke at some length and gave his opinion that he thought it would have been more courteous of the committee, or anyone else, to have spoken to him or other members of the society if they had any concerns about the safety of the replica. He said they could have asked about the speed range of the engine and whether it was capable of travelling slowly enough to lead the parade. He would have confirmed that it was built to precisely do this. Given the same circumstances, one can only imagine what Richard Trevithick might have said!

 

When it was explained to the police that traction engines do not travel in a straight line due to the nature of their steering mechanisms they changed their reason for the ban on the replica to an allegation that it was going too fast.

 

The engine was directed to park outside the former Camborne Fire Station away from the main crowd . It travelled the few yards very slowly. The London Road Carriage followed it and the two Trevithick masterpieces stood forlornly on double yellow lines. As one man said, "I have come 8,000 miles to see this engine moving and I have not seen it!"

 

The crowd fired questions at the crew from all angles. What was happening? What have you done wrong? Is it broken? What did the police say? Have you been arrested? Will it lead the parade? What will happen tomorrow? What will happen ever? Who complained? How fast were you going? How do you feel? Rumours spread around the town like wildfire. No one would have believed the truth.

 

It was impossible to answer most of the questions. Just how the crew felt could be clearly seen by glancing at their faces. After all their work they were desolate. Had the end come? Would they ever be allowed to drive it again? What would happen next? Could they take the little engine up Camborne Hill as they had planned for so long?

 

A 'council of war' was held amongst the crew. They looked at the facts. They and, in consequence, the London Road Carriage had clearly been expelled from the parade. There were thousands of people standing in Trelowarren Street bitterly disappointed. The police had told them that they would shortly escort them back to CompAir UK works. There was no answer to the questions about the hill climb on the following day. Nothing had been heard from the Trevithick Day Committee. Many members of the crew felt very bitter but managed to behave with dignity.

 

 

There appeared to be little which could be done to rectify the situation. The parade started late without the star of the show and, as it travelled through the town, the rumours increased. As the traction engine owners passed by the statue of Trevithick and his two technologically advanced road vehicles they whistled a tribute to his genius.

 

Once the parade was complete the little engine snorted and blew out a shower of smuts. So had started what was to be a grand life of over 100 years. It was unhappy that it had been branded an uncontrollable delinquent on its first trip to town. It made a sorry sight as the police car, with blue light flashing, escorted it back along Centenary Street. The car found difficulty in maintaining a speed slow enough to keep pace with the little steam engine. A small group of sad well-wishers accompanied the cortège.

 

Back at Holman's the fire was raked out and the boiler topped up. With only a little pressure left the engine was meticulously driven through the doorways, between machinery and compressors to the end of the workshop where it had first been assembled. All was now quiet as the crew silently washed and changed out of their period costumes.

 

Nothing had been heard from the Trevithick Day Committee so John set out to find its chairman. Together with the police officer of the day they sat on the granite walls of Commercial Square and discovered that there was very little common ground. The ultimatum was that the engine would be permitted to climb Camborne Hill if it was preceded by a police car at 3 m.p.h. This was quite unacceptable to John who pointed out that the engine would have to travel a little more than that at the bottom of the hill to make the ascent. At 3 m.p.h. it would loose all momentum and stall. At a higher speed he would drive into the police car.

 

John left the impasse and the crew decided that the terms offered made the following day's climb quite impossible. To travel next morning to the bottom of the hill after three hours preparation just to be told they could not perform would have been so sickening that they decided to abort the climb and went their separate ways to drown their sorrows.

 

At six o'clock that evening Radio Cornwall broadcast an announcement, purporting to come from the Trevithick Day Committee, that the climb would take place the following day and that it would be led by the Camborne Road Locomotive. This was only heard by one member of the project team.

 

That evening telephone wires to members of the society were hot as people rang to enquire what had happened to the replica in the parade and if the much vaunted climb was going to take place the following day. Gradually it dawned that it might be possible to redeem something positive for the people of Camborne and their visitors out of the fiasco.

 

With everything apparently lost, Phil Hosken thought he could do little harm if he made a few telephone calls. These included one to the Press Office of the Devon & Cornwall Constabulary at Exeter to advise them of the local strength of feeling. They acted and he received a call from the Duty Inspector at Camborne. Late that evening hope began to glimmer. John had always said that he would keep the loco on the road if someone else were to keep the pedestrians on the pavements. This is a very reasonable observation in any situation except Camborne Trevithick Day. Thecrowds on that occasion seem to have an uncontrolled will of their own.

 

The police were, quite rightly, concerned for the safety of the public. However, a sensible solution was found in which the climb would be able to take place with provisions to abort it if there was any cause for concern.

 

It was fast approaching midnight when Phil started to recall the crew for a start early the following morning. Those who hadn't already gone to bed were very close to it. Telephones rang and people knocked on others' doors. There was still an air of disbelief next morning as the crew stumbled into the works at CompAir. Radio Cornwall had broadcast an amended message at seven o'clock that the climb was to take place but it was not known if the replica was to run.

 

This was followed by a few hours of intense excitement throughout Cornwall as a 'will it, won't it' situation developed over the fate of the little engine climbing the hill. At that time in the morning it was not possible tosay for sure that enough of the crew would be available to make the journey possible. Radio Cornwall continued to put out broadcasts of the situation as it was telephoned in by Phil. They called for members of the crew to muster at Holman's and this was heard by Paul Smith, the society's Membership Secretary. He arrived prepared to muck in at about nine o'clock.

 

Sadly two valuable members, Jon Eastman and David Bray had made other arrangements for the day but Ray Tilling and his son Anthony, both CompAir employees who had helped to build the engine were able to step in at very short notice. This is why all subsequent photographs of the engine that day include one of the crew aptly wearing blue CompAir overalls.

 

Arthur Young was still saddened by the activities of the previous day so Cllr John Woodward, an engineer who had helped to make many of the parts used in the construction, took over the steering leaving Arthur as the waterman. And so the crew was reformed and ready.

 

With the difficulties of raising steam the previous day still well in mind and the necessity to have every last ounce of available pressure for the climb, John crawled into the firebox of the engine with a brush to sweep away the accumulated ash deposits from around the elbow bend of the flue. Such was his attention to this task that at one time only his boots could be seen poking out of the fire door!

 

His efforts were well rewarded as steam pressure soon rose after the fire had been lit. Then a cloud crossed the otherwise perfectly blue sky of that morning. The two policemen of the previous day, having heard the broadcasts that the steam pressure was rising, swung into the yard determined not to let matters get out of their control. They were clearly not pleased by what they saw. The weather forecasters had been predicting thunder, lightening and hail so one had to look on the bright side.

 

The lengthy discussions of the previous evening had not reached them and, with some difficulty, negotiations started all over again. Phil explained the position and it came down to the previous situation that John promised to keep the engine on the road if the police could keep the pedestrians on the pavement. Again the police were rightly concerned for the safety of the public and discussions followed as to how this could be achieved. The fact that we were running about three hours late and the roads were due to re-open again at two o'clock didn't help. Also their special, part-time policemen were to be off duty shortly afterwards.

 

It all came down to a matter of timing, coverage of pedestrian activity and whether the engine was safe in the hands of its crew. Without the press of the crowds about them as was the case on the previous day the police were prepared to learn about the safety features that Trevithick had never considered incorporating into his Puffin' Devil. After a tour of the loco a deal was struck.

 

Whilst bearing in mind that the object of the exercise was to get up the hill, John agreed to keep the engine on the road and proceed at a cautious pace. For their part the police and members of the society were to keep the pedestrians back on the pavement. The police were to be in charge and should they feel that any problem was likely to arise they were to sound the siren on the police car and John would stop the climb.

 

All this while the steam pressure was rising merrily and this joyful news was going out on Radio Cornwall. Every news bulletin contained updates and we understand that someone was brave enough to interrupt Ray Chaddick's Sunday programme no less than three times with exciting news from Camborne. From the questions put to him the previous day Phil asked Radio Cornwall to broadcast the location of 'Camborne Hill'. Nonetheless a great number of people were assembling at the foot of Beacon Hill.

 

The radio also broadcast an unsolicited appeal on behalf of Clive Carter to provide him with a lift to Camborne that morning. He arrived amazed and very grateful.

 

The Steam Car Club of GB combined a Run To Cornwall with their attendance on Camborne Hill that special morning. The project team were grateful to all the drivers of the magnificent steam cars, the traction engines which also turned up and for the exceptional three wheeled Grenville steam car, reputed to be the oldest car still in operational order. The owners of these wonderful vehicles entertained the crowds whilst the Camborne Road Locomotive prepared itself for its great day.

 

The steam car club members went on to enjoy lunch at Pendennis Castle, Falmouth, and complete 70 miles that day before arriving back at the Tregenna Castle Hotel where they were staying. At a dinner later that evening they all remarked on the excellence of the tour of Cornwall and the hospitality of the people of Camborne. Apparently they had not previously taken part in an event where they were cheered every inch of the way.

 

The atmosphere grew as the occupants of houses in Tehidy Road and Fore Street, which together formed the famed 'Camborne Hill' relayed the latest news from their radios to the spectators standing outside on the pavements.

 

The steam pressure in boiler matched the enthusiasm prompted in Camborne by Radio Cornwall. Soon the little engine was ready to set out from CompAir and it was off again along Centenary Street followed by a tractor. Everywhere it went it was urged on by cheering people. This was to be a very special day for Cornwall and for everyone in Camborne.

 

At the Trevithick statue the tractor pulled in front of the replica and it was towed carefully through Camborne leading an increasing group of well wishers to Camborne Hill. At the Weeth it was detached and prepared for the climb. The furnace was stoked, smoke poured out and spectators higher up the hill were made well aware that the fire was burning fiercely. Most of the water had been used on the journey from Foundry Road and kindly neighbours willingly topped up the reserve tank with buckets and kettles.

 

Excitement rose along with the boiler pressure. Soon the magical 100 lb/sq' was achieved and final adjustments were made to engine and clothing. Last thing of all, the engine was turned around. There were sound engineering reasons for this connected with water levels on the hill but it also explained the words of the song,

 

'Going up Camborne Hill, coming down'.

 

Both driving pins were inserted to gain the maximum traction and the marshals and police walked up the hill ushering the crowd out of the way. The excitement mounted as everyone realised the great historic event of 200-years-ago was about to be re-enacted before their very eyes. Many in the crowd had contributed in some way to the building of the replica and were keen to be there on that important day. The sun shone and there were smiles everywhere.

 

Brakes off and chocks away, all aboard and a blast from the whistle. The little engine was away at a cracking pace. Over four tons being driven by an eight horse power engine was not expected to provide lightening performance but the police car wisely kept out of the way and the tractor followed behind in case it should be required.

 

As the locomotive passed the plaque on the wall honouring Richard Trevithick and his work at that place Kingsley Rickard doffed his hat to the crowd and the media. This amusing bit of posing provided the photographers with pictures which will appear in publications for years.

 

Cheers went up all round and they were to swell as the engine climbed higher and higher. Steering the locomotive backwards up hill for over half a mile was not easy but it speaks well of the engine design and the expertise of the crew that the hill was climbed without incident. How Trevithick could had managed it 200-years-ago without a proper road was anyone's guess.

 

Camborne Hill becomes steeper towards the top and boiler pressure was dropping. The high speed chuffing to be heard as the engine covered the easier section at the bottom of the hill was becoming a much more laboured slow grunt as John tried to find every ounce of pressure. The crowd rose to the occasion, urging it on with cheers and shouts,

 

'Come on, come on!' everyone called. Spontaneous singing started and a thousand people joined in.

 

There was fear that, after having covered so much of the hill, the engine was not going to make the last ten yards. The crew, who had come along for the historic ride, were now to be put to work. They jumped off and started shoving. This action brought a tremendous cheer of encouragement from the crowd.

 

'Push! Push!' they cried, 'Go on, go on, push!'

 

That was all that was needed. The atmosphere was electric and emotions ran high as the summit was reached. With a joyful shriek from its whistle the little engine arrived in Trelowarren Street, stopped and sighed.

 

'Phew', said one woman wreathed in smiles with tears rolling down her cheeks, 'that was like giving birth!'

 

What happened next was probably unprecedented in the history of Camborne. Trevithick would never have known it but he would have felt very proud if he had been there that day.

 

Everyone wanted to congratulate the crew and touch the engine. People swarmed in from all sides. Amongst the first was the driver of the police car who, with his colleague, warmly shook everyone's hands. People, friends and strangers, hugged each other and shook hands. Smiles and laughter replaced the disappointment of the previous day. One man came across and thanked the team for "one of the happiest days he had experienced in many years.'

 

 

 

 

The little engine had climbed Camborne Hill. Everything that Richard Trevithick had done two centuries ago had been repeated and the replica, together with the driving skills of its crew, had been fully vindicated.

 

The day could not have come together better. Anticipation and excitement grew throughout the morning and reached a climax as the 2001 Camborne Road Locomotive fulfilled everyone's dreams. The team had received the help of the police, BBC Radio Cornwall, the Steam Car Club and scores of people along the way that day. The sun had shone and the spectators had made it all worthwhile.

 

Camborne was proud that day, its people were in a joyous mood. Camborne, the home of the high-pressure steam which ran the world for 150 years, had made another entry in the history books. This was something to tell the children and the grandchildren. They would never see anything quite like it. As Welsh comedienne Max Boyce would have proudly said of such an occasion, 'I was there!'

 

The time came to complete the journey so, with the crowd ushered safely out of the way, the locomotive started off along Trelowarren Street. Up and down it went over the traffic calming humps until, near Woolworth's, it eventually ran out of steam. The supreme effort of climbing the hill had denuded the boiler of steam and, with the roads closing at two o'clock, there was insufficient time to start raising it again. The tractor took up position ahead of the engine and sedately towed away to rest in CompAir.

 

Sadly there were people waiting patiently at Trevithick's statue but the engine was never going to make it that far in the remaining time. Plans will have to be made for an outing of the Road Locomotive in the Camborne area sometime during the coming summer. Kingsley has suggested to the town council that signs should be erected at both ends of 'Camborne Hill' to inform people of its correct location. This would be an excellent piece of tourist information and would quell the continuous local debate as to its whereabouts.

 

The little engine had not fallen asleep after its exertions. There was still sufficient power left in its boiler to keep whistling as it disappeared from sight. Phil Hosken made his last call to Radio Cornwall and his breathless account of the locomotive climbing the hill was still being broadcast at ten o'clock that night.

 

Back outside the gates of the factory the tractor stopped and it was time for recollection, photographs and television interviews. Families congregated. The project team had silly smiles of achievement on their faces. They realised that their work and that of all those who had contributed had not been in vain as they had feared. It had been a long but successful day for Cornwall.

 

Phil Hosken wrote a letter that appeared in The West Briton the following week. It summed up how everyone felt.

 

 

 

Dear Editor

It would be impossible...

 

 

 

 

 

Tell a Cornish Cousin the truth about

World Famous Cornish Inventor

Richard Trevithick and

the world's first car

---

Cornish Inventor Richard Pearce

 

 

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