Part 46

The great tunnel of the St. Gothard passes from Gœschenen, on the Reuss, beneath the col of the pass, and emerges close to the village of Airolo, on the banks of the Ticino. The length of this tunnel is rather more than nine and a quarter miles, so that it is about one and a half miles longer than the Mont Cenis Tunnel. Its northern end is 3,638 feet above the sea level; its southern end is higher, namely, 3,756 feet; but there is an intermediate point in the tunnel higher than either-–3,786 feet—and from this there is a uniform incline in each direction. The tunnel is 300 yards beneath the lowest part of the valley of Andermatt, and the summits of the mountains it traverses are at least a mile above it. The motive power by which the rock-drilling machines used in driving the tunnel were actuated was, as in the case of the Mont Cenis Tunnel, compressed air; and the power used for compressing the air was, in this case also, a head of water,—but this was not applied in the same way. The waters of the Reuss at the northern side, and those of the Tremola and of the Ticino at the southern side, were taken at a considerable height in very large cast-iron pipes, and were made to act upon powerful turbines that gave motion to the compressing machines. These were capable of compressing the air so that its volume was reduced to one-twentieth, and the pressure it then exercised would, of course, be equal to that of twenty atmospheres, or about 300 lbs. on the square inch,—or more than three times as much as was made use of in the Mont Cenis Tunnel. The compressed air, carried through pipes to the head of the workings in the rock, was there allowed to exert its force on the pistons of the perforators in the manner already described. There was, in fact, a continual repetition of exactly the same cycle of operations of boring, charging, firing, etc., that are mentioned on page 355. A large quantity of the compressed air was always allowed to rush into the work immediately after each blasting, in order that the smoke and other products might be driven out and the atmosphere rendered fit for respiration. In attacking the mountain simultaneously from each side it was, of course, essential that the tunnels should be driven in precisely the same direction, and therefore the positions of the points of departure had to be determined by very careful surveys. At Gœschenen, the gorge of the Reuss did not naturally admit of a sufficient distance of vision to fix the direction with the required accuracy, and it became necessary to pierce a thick mass of rock with a special tunnel for the purpose of taking a sight sufficiently far back. At Airolo, again, the tunnel had to enter the valley by curving towards the village; and here a provisional gallery had to be driven in the straight line.

Several contractors competed for the work of constructing this great tunnel, and it was at first supposed that an Italian company, which was managed by some of the principal engineers engaged on the Mont Cenis, would be almost certain to obtain the contract. The promoters, however, intrusted the work to a private individual, M. Louis Favre, of Geneva. This gentleman undertook to complete the tunnel in eight years, at the price of 2,800 francs per mètre for the work of excavation merely, exclusive of masonry, etc. This cost would be not far from £101 per English yard. The contract was signed on August 7th, 1872, and on September 12th of the same year M. Favre commenced operations at the southern end, and the work at the northern end was begun on October 9th following. The operations were carried on with great energy, and even during the period of the Company’s financial difficulties there was no stoppage of the works between Gœschenen and Airolo. It has been suggested that it was largely due to the regular and successful progress of this great piece of rock boring that the Company were enabled to re-establish themselves on a basis that ensured the completion of the whole undertaking. The contractor, on his part, did not fail to encounter many physical difficulties. At the southern end much trouble was caused by torrents of water gushing from the soil, many of these being of great volume and force; in fact, the work was here carried on for nearly a whole year in the midst of water—for the ground for the first mile consisted of glacial and other deposits, which were intersected by subterranean water-courses. Reaching the solid rock was here a relief. But at Gœschenen little of loose formation was met with; but the rock encountered was of extreme hardness—consisting, indeed, of almost pure quartz, which had the effect of quickly blunting the points of even the best tempered tools. But another kind of difficulty had to be overcome when the workings got beneath the vale of Urseren. Here, at several places, layers of argillaceous matter were found between the masses of hard rock. These layers were easy enough to pierce through, but on account of the pressure of the rocks in which they were interspersed, they were squeezed out and gradually protruded within the tunnel, which would soon have become entirely obstructed. At first a very massive lining of timber was tried, but it was soon found that this must be replaced by a solid vaulting of stone. The first vault failed to sustain the pressure, and so did the second, although the thickness of the material was more than a yard. In some places these operations had to be several times repeated, and from this cause the cost of parts of the tunnel has been nearly £1,000 per yard.

The instances above mentioned may be taken as mere specimens of the physical difficulties attending a work of this kind. There are often others arising from the unusual circumstances under which the workmen are placed, and others again from accidental causes alone. M. Favre experienced some of these, as, for example, when one year a fire destroyed the greater part of the village of Airolo; another year there was a strike on the part of the workmen. The high temperature in the workings was, especially towards the end, a source of great trouble. The cause of the heat is no doubt the same as that which is held to support the theory of the earth’s central heat. Numberless observations have established the fact that the temperature of the earth’s crust increases as we go deeper. The increase appears not to be uniform in different places—at least there is much discrepancy in the estimates that have been made. But as a sufficient approximation to a general statement, it may be taken as proved that for every seventy feet or so that you go below the surface of the ground, there is an increase of the temperature of the strata equal to 1° Fahrenheit. Now, the workmen in the two sections of the tunnel had, at last, to carry on their labour in a temperature of more than 100° Fahrenheit. This, perhaps, might have been one cause of some unprecedented kinds of malady that appeared amongst the tunnel labourers. M. Favre himself was not destined to witness the completion of his great undertaking, for, on July 19th, 1879, as he was returning from an inspection of the tunnel, he fell into the arms of his companions, struck down by a fatal attack of apoplexy. On February 29th, 1880, the last fuse required to blast down the rock separating the two tunnels was fired by one of the few workmen who had been engaged in the operations during the whole period from their commencement. It was found that the two tunnels met exactly and coincided in direction.

The construction of such a line of railway as the St. Gothard tries the skill of the engineer, and taxes all the resources of his art. The problems presented by the nature of the route, and the requirements of the iron road, have in this case been successfully solved by bold expedients—by new and ingenious devices. The reader will readily understand that the ordinary cart road may wander about, so to speak, of its own will; it is not confined to the limited gradient of the line; or obliged to make its turns and curves of at least a certain radius. Now, there are portions of the valley where the general slope is too steep for the railway to follow, and where it was necessary to form it in zig-zags, so that certain sections of the gorge or valley may be several times traversed by the line returning upon itself. Fig. 187_d_ is a view showing an incident of this kind, and one of the most interesting spots on the route. The dark line on the spectator’s right is the track of the railway; the white trace, which in the lower part of the view is seen on the other side of the Reuss, is the ordinary road. If this last be followed up the valley, it will be seen to cross first the Reuss, and then a tributary stream (the _Maïenreuss_) descending through a gorge on the right, after which it zig-zags up a hill to the village of _Wasen_ (the church of which village is seen crowning the eminence in the centre of our view), and then it continues its course up the valley, passing through a small village, and disappearing over the shoulder of a hill on the right bank of the river. Let us now carefully follow the railway from where the train at the bottom of the picture is seen ascending the gradient. The line presently passes under a bridge, and then enters the tunnel, near to the entrance of which a small building will be noticed. The course of the tunnel is shown by the _curve_ marked in dots, for this tunnel makes a round within the rock, and the railway emerges to day again at a point lower down in the course of the valley than at the entrance to the tunnel, but at a higher level. It is seen in the figure appearing from behind the rocks in the right-hand lower corner, passing under a short tunnel and continuing along the mountain side. The curved tunnel resembles in direction part of the turn of a corkscrew; it is one of a series of _helicoidal_ tunnels of which there are several examples on the line. The entrance to this tunnel is 2,539 feet, the exit 2,654 feet, above the sea level. It is known as _Pfaffensprung_ (Monk’s Leap) Tunnel. The line again enters a short tunnel, and immediately crosses the deep gorge of the Maïenreuss, to plunge again into another tunnel at the base of this hill on which Wasen stands. Higher up it crosses the Reuss and enters the helicoidal tunnel of _Wattingen_ (dotted line). On emerging from this, the line re-crosses the Reuss, and may now be traced _down_ the valley, but higher up on the mountain side, coming in the reverse direction, and after passing _Wasen_ on the other side, re-crossing the Maïenreuss gorge by a second bridge. Then turning back again through another helicoidal tunnel (_Leggistein_) the line crosses the Maïenreuss for the third time, and continues its course up the valley. Fig. 187_c_ gives us a near view of _Wasen_, and a glimpse up the gorge of the Maïenreuss from its junction with the Reuss. The bridge with the large single arch is that which carries the ordinary road, and higher up we see the three iron bridges that carry the railway backwards and forwards in its doublings. We can well imagine the perplexity of anyone ascending the valley in the train for the first time, and ignorant of the peculiarities of this extraordinary railway. In crossing the first, or lowest bridge, over the Maïenreuss, he would catch a glimpse of the church of Wasen, perched on its hill, high above him, and on his right. After being carried through more tunnels, and over more bridges, he would some minutes afterwards be disposed to think that his eyes were deceiving him, for there, still on his right, he would see the same church, but now on about the same level as the train. Again, after more tunnels and bridges, the church would once more appear, transferred to the left of the line, and sunk very far down. These several apparitions of the same building in different positions, after the train has seemed to have been pursuing its onward course the while,—which course would not be judged by any impressions the traveller would usually receive to be other than rectilinear,—are indeed a regular bewilderment to the inexperienced traveller. He is then obliged finally to resign himself passively to be carried he knows not whither or how, for his sense of direction is completely at fault;—the train comes out of tunnels which seem turned the wrong way; the river, which he expected to find on the left hand, he sees on the right; and the Reuss appears to have reversed the direction of its flow.

It is understood that the St. Gothard line has been a great commercial success, for the number of passengers entering and leaving Italy by that route has been enormous, and still shows a large annual increase. Indeed, the prosperity of the line has been so great that the project has been revived of carrying another railway over the Alps to connect Italy and Switzerland by way of the Simplon. If this scheme should be carried out, the mountains will be pierced by a tunnel of a length double that of the St. Gothard.

LIGHT.

The foregoing pages have been devoted to the description of inventions or operations in which mechanical actions are the most obvious features. Some of the contrivances described have for their end and object the communication of motion to certain bodies, others the arrangement of materials in some definite form, and all are essentially associated with the idea of what is called _matter_. But we are now about to enter on another region—a region of marvels where all is enchanted ground—a region in which we seem to leave far behind us our grosser conceptions of matter, and to attain to a sphere of more refined and subtile existence. For we are about to show some results of those beautiful investigations in which modern science has penetrated the secrets of Nature by unfolding the laws of light—

“Light Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure.”

The diversity and magnificence of the spectacles which, by day as well as by night, are revealed to us by the agency of light, have been the theme of the poet in every age and in every country. It cannot fail to arrest the attention to find Science declaring that all the loveliness of the landscape, the fresh green tints of early summer and the golden glow of autumn, the brilliant dyes of flowers, of insects, of birds, the soft blue of the cloudless sky, the rosy hues of sunset and of dawn, the chromatic splendour of rubies, emeralds, and other gems, the beauties of the million-coloured rainbow,—are all due to light—to light alone, and are not qualities of the bodies themselves, which merely _seem_ to possess the colours. The following quaint stanzas, in which a poet of the seventeenth century addresses “Light” have a literal correspondence with scientific truth:

“All the world’s bravery, that delights our eyes, Is but thy several liveries; Thou the rich dye on them bestowest, Thy nimble pencil paints this landscape as thou goest.

“A crimson garment in the rose thou wearest:; A crown of studded gold thou bearest; The virgin lilies, in their white, Are clad but with the lawn of almost naked light.

“The violet, Spring’s little infant, stands Girt in thy purple swaddling-bands; On the fair tulip thou dost dote; Thou clothest it in a gay and parti-coloured coat.”

All these beauties are indeed derived from the imponderable and _invisible_ agent, light; and the variety and changefulness of the effects we may constantly observe show that light possesses the power of impressing our visual organs in a thousand different ways, modified by the surrounding circumstances, as witness that ever-shifting transformation scene—the sky. In the skies of such a climate as that of England there are ceaseless changes and ever-beautiful effects, producing everywhere more perfect and diversified pictures than the richest galleries can show. In the night how changed is the spectacle, when the sun’s more powerful rays are succeeded by the soft light of the moon, sailing through the azure star-bestudded vault! What limitless scope for the artist is afforded by these innumerable modifications of a single subtile agent, in light and shade, brightness and obscurity, in the contrasts and harmonies of colours, and in the countless hues resulting from their mixtures and blendings!

It will be necessary, before attempting to explain the discoveries and inventions which prove how successfully science, aided by the powerful mathematical analysis of modern times, has acquired a knowledge of the ways of light, to discuss such of the ordinary phenomena as have a direct bearing upon the subjects to be considered.

_SOME PHENOMENA OF LIGHT._

It may be considered as a matter of common experience that light is able to pass through certain bodies, such as air and gases, pure water, glass, and a number of other liquids and solids, which, by virtue of this passage of light, we term _transparent_, in opposition to another class of bodies, called _opaque_, through which light does not pass. That light traverses a vacuum may be held as proved by the light of the sun and stars reaching us across the interplanetary spaces; but it may also be made the subject of direct experiment by an apparatus described below, Fig. 190. Another fact, very obvious from common observation, is that light usually travels in straight lines. Some familiar experiences may be appealed to for establishing this fact. For example, every one has observed that the beams of sunlight which penetrate an apartment through any small opening pursue their course in perfectly straight lines across the atmosphere, in which their path is rendered visible by the floating particles of dust. It is by reason of the straightness with which rays of light pursue their course that the joiner, by looking along the edge of a plank, can judge of its truth, and that the engineer or surveyor is able by his theodolite and staff to set out the work for rectilinear roads or railways. On a grander scale than in the sunbeam traversing a room, we witness the same fact in the effect represented in Fig. 189, where the sun, concealed from direct observation, is seen to send through openings in the clouds, beams that reveal their paths by lighting up the particles of haze or mist contained in the atmosphere. It is not the air itself which is rendered visible; but whenever a beam of sunlight, or of any other brilliant light, is allowed to pass through an apartment which is otherwise kept dark, the track of the beam is always distinctly visible, and, especially if the light be concentrated by a lens or concave mirror, the fact is revealed that the air, which under ordinary circumstances appears so pure and transparent, is in reality loaded with floating particles, requiring only to be properly lighted up to show themselves.

Professor Tyndall, in the course of some remarkable researches on the decomposition of vapours by light, wished to have such a glass tube as that represented in Fig. 190, filled with air perfectly free from these floating particles. When the beam of the electric lamp passed through the exhausted tube, no trace of the existence of anything within the tube was revealed, for it appeared merely like a black gap cut out of the visible rays that traversed the air; thus proving that light, although the agent which makes all things become visible, _is itself invisible_—that, in fact, we see not light, but only illuminated substances. When, however, air was admitted to the tube, even after passing through sulphuric acid, the beam of the light became clearly revealed within the tube, and it was only by allowing the air to stream very slowly into the exhausted glass tube through platinum pipes, packed with platinum gauze and intensely heated, that Professor Tyndall succeeded in obtaining air “optically empty,” that is, air in which no floating particles revealed the track of the beams. The destruction of the floating matter by the incandescent metal proves the particles to be organic; but a more convenient method of obtaining air free from all suspended matter was found by Professor Tyndall to be the passing of the air through a _filter of cotton wool_. It must not be supposed that it is only occasionally, or in dusty rooms, laboratories, or lecture-halls, that the air is charged with organic and other particles—

“As thick as motes in the sunbeams.”

“The air of our London rooms,” says Tyndall, “is loaded with this organic dust, nor is the country air free from its pollution. However ordinary daylight may permit it to disguise itself, a sufficiently powerful beam causes the air in which the dust is suspended to appear as a semi-solid, rather than as a gas. Nobody could, in the first instance, without repugnance, place the mouth at the illuminated focus of the electric beam and inhale the dust revealed there. Nor is this disgust abolished by the reflection that, although we do not see the nastiness, we are drawing it in our lungs every hour and minute of our lives. There is no respite to this contact with dirt; and the wonder is, not that we should from time to time suffer from its presence, but that so small a portion of it would appear to be deadly to man.” The Professor then goes on to develop a very remarkable theory, which attributes such diseases as cholera, scarlet fever, small pox, and the like, to the inhalation of organic _germs_ which may form part of the floating particles. But we must return to our immediate subject by a few words on the

_VELOCITY OF LIGHT._