The success with which San Francisco was brought within two or three weeks of Europe by means of the Union and Central Pacific railways prompted far-seeing individuals to aspire for a similar acceleration of travel around the other half of the northern hemisphere. This could be done by driving the iron road straight across Europe and Asia, and it was pointed out, in support of the scheme, that the industrial and commercial centres of western Europe would be brought within about a fortnight’s journey of China.

The construction of a railway across Siberia was discussed for over half a century. In 1851 Count Mouraviev-Amoursky, the Governor-General of Eastern Siberia, suggested that he should be brought into more immediate touch with the heart of the Russian Empire. He suggested that first a highroad should be built across the continent, upon which the iron rails should be laid later, thus converting the channel of vehicular and pedestrian traffic into a railway.

It was a brilliant idea, but like many other great schemes suffered from being premature. However, as Siberia developed, the building of independent railway lines in various parts of the country, to be connected together by short links, thereby forming a chain of railways stretching from the Baltic to the Pacific Ocean, was mooted frequently. The Government viewed the recommendations sympathetically, but nothing definite was arranged.

In 1869 the administrative authorities scattered throughout Asiatic Russia became so energetic in their demands for improved communication with western Europe that the Government entertained seriously the bonding of the empire. The question arose, however, as to the most advantageous location. What direction should it follow in order to serve the most promising interests from an economic point of view? This was a problem that demanded searching investigation, but meanwhile the railway commenced to move eastwards, the existing system of Russia in Europe being driven more and more towards the Ural Mountains. By 1888 the railhead was within easy reach of the eastern frontier of Europe, having gained Zlatoost.

A halt was called at this juncture. The outposts of steel were three in number, Orenburg, Tioumen on the Asiatic side of the Urals and connected with Ekaterinburg, and Zlatoost. A decision was necessary to determine which of these three railheads should be the jumping-off point for the long toil through Siberia. Three surveys were made, and as a result of prolonged consideration of the advantages and disadvantages of the respective routes from every point of view, among the most important of which was the question of cost, Zlatoost was selected as the most favourable starting-point. From that point the location was by way of Tcheliabinsk-Kourgan-Petropavlovsk-Omsk-Tomsk-Krasnoiarsk to Nijneoudinsk, as this offered the shortest length of line, traversed the most densely populated and most fertile country, and at the same time could be built far cheaper than either of the alternative routes.

It was recognised that the line would entail the expenditure of a huge sum of money, no matter how cheaply it was constructed, and that there could be no hope of any return upon the investment for many years to come owing to the unsettled character of the country. Accordingly it was decided to avoid all pretentious engineering exploits—in fact, to build the line upon pioneer principles. A five-foot gauge was adopted to harmonise with European Russia, and in order to cut the cost of construction down to the lowest possible figure the lightest material was employed, the rails, for instance, only weighing 54 pounds per yard. It was realised that the paramount condition was to open up the land and its resources without delay, and to overhaul the line as traffic increased, thereby bringing it gradually into conformity with the generally accepted standards of a modern railway.

As the project was of such far-reaching significance to the Russian Empire it was resolved that it should be carried out as a national undertaking. Every ounce of material required was to be fashioned in Russian workshops—there was only one important departure from this decision, and that was the construction of the huge ice-breaking ferries on Lake Baikal, which, being beyond the capacity of the Russian builders, were designed and constructed at the Elswick works of Sir W. G. Armstrong, Whitworth & Company, Limited—and that it should be built by Russian labour under Russian engineers with Russian money. It was an Imperial enterprise from end to end.

To govern the work of construction a national committee was established, composed of interested ministers, under the presidency of the Grand Duke Heritier, the present Tsar, who upon his ascent to the throne retained his seat upon this commission. Indeed, the Emperor has displayed the greatest interest in this undertaking from its inception, and, in fact, inaugurated the work by laying the stone commemorating the turning of the first sod at Vladivostok on May 18, 1891, during his visit to the East.

Owing to the gigantic character of the work it was divided into several distinct sections comprised as follows—

This was the manner in which the 4,771 miles of line constituting the link between the Urals and the eastern seaboard of the Pacific was split up. The difficulties that were likely to be encountered were realised only too well. Though great engineering achievements were not to be permitted from lack of funds, it was recognised that in certain places heavy initial expenditure could not be avoided. The rivers which flow northwards to the Arctic sea, and thus cut across the direction of the railway at right angles, were to be feared the most, owing to their great widths, velocity, and the ice-packs with which they were obstructed during the early spring. Here metal only could be employed, and as the waterways to be crossed were numerous, it was seen that the expenditure under this heading would have to be enormous. There was another factor which had to be taken into consideration. These waterways during the summer season are the great highroads of communication through the country, and consequently it was imperative that the rails should be carried at a sufficient height above the waterways as to offer no obstruction to steamboat navigation.

As a matter of fact, it may be conceded that the huge bridges across such rivers as the Irtych, Obi and Yenisei constitute the outstanding features of the work. They were built massively, and although their erection in many cases taxed the skill of the engineers to a superlative degree, owing to the difficult conditions prevailing, their successful completion is a striking tribute to the men responsible for their consummation. The fact that these waterways were frozen during the winter, harassed the engineers in one, while it was a distinct boon in another, direction. Rails could be laid upon the ice, over which the construction trains could proceed from bank to bank, hauling the requisite supplies and provisions for the workmen, whereas in the summer such work had to be effected by ferries and boats demanding transhipment at the banks, whereby considerable time was lost, as well as incurring the liability of damage to the material handled.

Work was commenced on the various sections as soon as it was possible to gather the requisite material and men on the spot. Owing to the extreme difficulty attending access to the middle parts of the country, these sections were not taken in hand until some two or three years after the earth and rock had commenced to fly at the extreme ends. As already mentioned, construction actually commenced first at Vladivostok, but some months later, on July 7, 1892, the engineers commenced to drive the steel highway eastwards from the European terminus at Tcheliabinsk, to which point the line had been carried forward from Zlatoost.

The country entered after the Urals were left behind was the fringe of a vast steppe covered with tall bush, which continues until the Obi is gained. Then the character of the country changes with startling suddenness, desert giving way to dense forests, where heavy clearing was necessary to secure the right-of-way. The timber, however, was of slight use for building purposes, and this deficiency, together with that of stone, proved a serious drawback. Timber had to be hauled from long distances and pressed into service for spanning the smaller waterways, creeks and streams, there being over 260 temporary structures of this type upon this division. Difficulty was also experienced in securing material for ballasting the line, and in some instances it was necessary to haul the material for this purpose 20 miles across country.

Four large steel bridges had to be erected in order to carry the railway across the Tobol, Ichime, Irtych and Obi rivers, all of which are navigable. The last two waterways demanded the heaviest pieces of work of this character, the Irtych bridge being about 2,130 feet in length, divided into six spans, each of about 354½ feet. That over the Obi measures some 2,650 feet from end to end, built up of seven spans, three of which are of 594½ feet, and four of 291½ feet respectively.

The rigours of the climate were felt severely. The summer is short and hot, while the winter is long and intensely cold, the temperature ranging between -5 and -13 degrees, while at times the mercury was found to descend to -40 degrees. Moreover, the steppe is swept by terrific winds, and the conditions told heavily upon the labourers working in such an exposed situation. In summer, after making allowances for wet and fête days, only about 120 days were left for operations, and consequently it was essential to continue work during the winter as far as practicable. The sparsely-populated character of the country militated against the engineers, and the labour for the most part had to be brought from Europe, for the peasants were unaccustomed to navvy work. The scarcity of water was another adverse factor, that found in the more sterile reaches being brackish and unfit for consumption. To meet this contingency water had to be brought over long distances for the workmen, while in places artesian wells were sunk which relieved the situation slightly. Under these conditions the completion of the 885 miles of line comprised in this section within four years was an excellent piece of work.

The Central Siberian railway, as it ran through two diametrically different stretches of country—plain and mountainous respectively—was subdivided into two divisions. The first section, stretching from the banks of the Obi, where it connected with the Western Siberian railway, was taken in hand in May 1893, and the work was pushed forward so vigorously that it was completed in advance of the scheduled time. Trains from St. Petersburg could not run over this section, however, until two years later, as the struggles of the engineers upon the mountains, in the second moiety, demanded the utilisation of the first section for the handling of their supplies and material. The broken country proved to be exceedingly troublesome. Moreover, a large number of wide waterways had to be crossed, such as the Yenisei, where a magnificent bridge 2,856 feet in length had to be erected. It is a massive structure, and at present constitutes the largest and heaviest work of its description in Siberia.

The traveller as he rolls over the iron road cannot resist contrasting the solidity and permanent appearance of these noble bridges with the temporary character of the line in other places. The difference is so great as to be incongruous. Yet it was in accordance with the original plans. The earthworks and permanent way can be replaced at leisure, but the bridges, and the reputation of the rivers they span, led the authorities to decide that in these instances first cost should be last cost. When the whole railway is brought up to the standard of the bridge-work, it will be comparable in solidity and travelling comfort with the leading lines of other countries.

Rapidity in laying the track on the first section was due to the fact that the line traversed an undulating plain where heavy works were not demanded. The climate for the most part was found to be analogous with that prevailing in Western Siberia, the mean temperature in summer hovering about 70 degrees, to fall to about -7.6 degrees in winter. In order that the workmen during the latter season might not be interrupted in their tasks of fashioning the stone-work for the bridges, special workshops were provided, heated with steam and stoves, and similar shelters were built over the sites of erection on the ice, where the workmen were enabled to lay the masonry in comfort. At the same time these measures permitted the cement to dry slowly instead of being frozen, only to fall to pieces with the approach of spring.

As the engineers pushed farther and farther away from the European frontier, the country was found to be more and more thinly settled. Along the line of the Central Siberian railway the average population was one person per square mile, and the majority of these people were colonists who had emigrated from European Russia to practise agriculture in the East, and they were settled for the most part along the postal road to Tomsk.

Under such conditions labour had to be brought from several hundreds of miles to the rear. Huge depots had to be established to house provisions and large camps formed for the employees. Furthermore, thousands of horses and hundreds of wagons were required in addition to sleighs. Roads had to be cut for the passage of these vehicles, and at various points stores of provisions and other necessaries had to be stored in deep pits dug in the ground, and covered with heavy tree-trunks to secure protection against bears and other marauders.

The penetration of the dark and matted primeval forests was terrible. The ground was swampy, and in order to facilitate the advance of vehicles the soft soil had to be rendered firmer by tree-trunks laid down to form a kind of timber road. The men engaged in this essential undertaking suffered extreme privations, not only bodily, but mentally as well. The terrible solitude preyed upon their minds, while the rainfall and entire absence of the rudiments of comfort told upon their constitutions.

In order to facilitate the transportation of the provisions and material from European Russia to the main depots along the line, the great waterways were utilised to the fullest extent. Boats of all descriptions took on these stores at convenient points near the Urals, such as Tioumen, and by traversing the various tributaries of the mighty Obi were able to gain numerous points along the location, where they discharged their cargoes. Thence the goods were dispatched to the scattered depots and camps by road.

When Irkutsk was gained, the first serious troubles arising from the mountains confronted the engineers. The survey showed that the line here would have to describe a huge detour to round the southern extremity of Lake Baikal, a sheet of water as large as England. The country was broken up to an extreme degree, and among other works of a heavy nature involved was a tunnel nearly 12,500 feet long through the Zyrkousounsk mountain chain, which towers to a height of 12,000 feet above sea-level. But the tunnel was only one obstacle which would have to be overcome, for heavy cuttings through rock and big fills to cross depressions were indicated on all sides. Some idea of the outlook was afforded from the estimated cost of this 182 miles of line which was ciphered at £2,700,000, or $13,500,000. As, after compassing the lake, the line swung sharply north-eastwards to gain Myssovaia, practically opposite the point on the west bank, a bold temporary expedient was suggested. This was the installation of a large vessel combining the features of an ice-breaker and ferry, which should carry the trains intact across the lake, a distance of about 45 miles. By this means construction from the eastern bank could be hastened, leaving the line around the end of the sheet of water to be built at leisure at a subsequent date.

The construction of this vessel was entrusted to Sir W. G. Armstrong, Whitworth & Co., Limited, who had undertaken the ice-breaker Ermak which had proved such a unique success in the Baltic Sea. It measures 280 feet in length and has a displacement of 4,200 tons. It is propelled by twin screws driven by triple expansion engines developing 3,750 horse-power. A third screw is placed in the front, which not only serves to assist propulsion, but also to crush the ice, the vessel, as it were, cutting its own channel.

Rails are laid upon the deck of this steamer so that the train, when it comes to the water’s edge on one bank, proceeds under its own power on to the steamer, and upon reaching the opposite bank of the lake runs on to dry land. In addition, there is accommodation for a large number of passengers.

The vessel was built on the Tyne and then dismantled, every part being numbered to show its relative position. It was shipped to St. Petersburg, and from that point dispatched to Krasnoiarsk. Here on the shores of Lake Baikal the parts were reassembled and the vessel was launched. This ship-building operation was no mean feat in itself, bearing in mind the remote situation of the lake and the complete absence of those thousand-and-one facilities which are to be found in a shipyard on the Tyne.

The vessel proved a complete success, and the authorities were so gratified at this solution of a difficult problem that they secured a second ice-breaker, together with a floating dock where these craft could be repaired and overhauled as occasion demanded, together with sufficient equipment for such work. The total expenditure upon this trans-Baikal marine work alone amounted to £684,190, or $3,420,950.

The line around the shore of the lake, however, has been completed, providing through continuous railway communication across Siberia. Passengers can still enjoy the lake trip if they desire or are in a hurry, as the steamers are still in service, not only for this special purpose, but also to serve various other points along the shores of Lake Baikal, thereby bringing a great territory within easy reach of the railway.

The forging of the link around the lake, however, proved the most difficult part of the whole undertaking. Bridges across yawning deep gulches had to be introduced freely and projecting spurs had to be tunnelled. Heavy gradients and sharp curves could not be avoided owing to the configuration of the country, and at many places the work is extremely daring. Despite the difficulties with which the engineer had to grapple, this trying section was completed two years before the anticipated date, a result in the main due to the energy and initiative of one man—Prince Khilkoff.

This scion of one of the oldest and most noble families in Russia was an extraordinary man, and probably the most famous railway engineer that Russia has produced. His career was as extraordinary as his character. When a young man he determined to see things for himself. For several months he worked at a bench in Liverpool in order to become familiar with the trade of a mechanic. Then when one of the early trans-continental railways was being driven across the United States, he proceeded to that country and joined the navvying gangs at the railhead, becoming acquainted in turn with the difficulties of penetrating the mountains, railway-building and a thousand-and-one other details pertaining to such operations in a new country of a diversified character. In this way he gained valuable first-hand knowledge from practical experience. Afterwards he turned his attention to the operating side, serving first as stoker and then as driver. Still climbing the ladder, he became traction manager and was responsible for the running of the line. Few men ever have gained such an all-round knowledge of the intricate art of controlling a railway as did Prince Michael Ivanovitch Khilkoff, and one of his most treasured possessions was an old certificate of character that was given to him by his superior when he severed his connection with an American railway, in order to facilitate his securing another post.

The knowledge he thus acquired stood him in valuable stead when he returned to Russia, where the development of various means of communication throughout the empire was in a state of transition. On account of his wide and varied experience he was appointed to the directorship and control of various railways, and soon brought them to a high state of efficiency. He achieved the topmost rung of the ladder when he was appointed minister of all the roads, canals, rivers and railways of the empire.

The Trans-Siberian road thus came under his control, and he set to work energetically upon the completion of this tremendous enterprise. His influence was demonstrated on every hand. Lackadaisical methods made way for strict business routine, and in a short time the whole organisation was running with the precision of a clock. His subordinates when in a quandary never hesitated from seeking his advice and assistance, which were granted always with sympathetic interest; and when the obstacle assumed more than normal proportions he did not attempt its negotiation from an arm-chair thousands of miles away, but hurried to the spot to study it at first-hand, and to recommend and assist himself in the breaking down of the difficulty. He had become so saturated with American railway methods that he travelled up and down the line continuously; no detail, no matter how slight, missed his eye. At the time the Circum-Baikal line was in progress he scarcely ever left the railhead, as it was just one of those complex and exasperating fights with Nature in which he revelled. At seventy-five he was as active and as keen as ever, and it was a distinct misfortune for Russia that he was struck down by a paralytic stroke from which he never recovered. Still, he left a host of recommendations for the improvement of the Trans-Siberian and other railways, including the double tracking of the great trans-continental steel way, which are now being fulfilled.

When Lake Baikal was crossed, the engineers experienced a grim struggle for supremacy through every foot of the way. There is an up-hill pull from the shore of the lake over the Yablonovoi range, where the railway attains its highest point on the continent, viz. 3,412 feet above sea-level, and then makes a descent to gain the valley of the Amur. The country traversed is of a varied character, and was found to be tightly in the grip of frost, for the winter is terribly severe. The land, in fact, may be described as eternally frozen, for in summer, although the temperature rises to about 62 degrees, it does not thaw the ground to a depth of more than 7 feet below the surface. In the forested parts where the branches shut out the genial rays of the sun, ice is found at about 20 inches below the surface in midsummer.

Under these circumstances advance was trying. The top-soil was as hard as rock, and could not be displaced except by dynamite, so that in the deep cuttings in mid-summer it was just as arduous to cut a way through the frozen loam as through the solid rock. The rivers, although they flow with a fierce velocity, freeze up quickly, and the ice assumes a great depth—a train can cross on the congealed surface with perfect safety.

In this country, strange to say, it was found to be easier to work during the winter, notwithstanding the extreme cold, than during the summer, for a higher rate of advance could be maintained when the country was frost-bound. There is an almost total absence of snow, but, on the other hand, during the summer the rainfall is tremendous. The wet season lasts continuously for nearly two months—from the middle of June to the middle of August. The downpour is so terrific that floods are precipitated on every hand, and the resultant situation, as may be surmised, is of the most miserable character. In 1897 the effect of this deluge was experienced to an abnormal degree, for several villages were overwhelmed, and widespread misery was inflicted among the peasants. The railway did not escape, for large stretches of line were washed away and large quantities of material were lost.

The scarcity of labour was felt very severely. Sufficient men could not be recruited locally, and to import navvies from Europe was hopeless. To meet this contingency the Administration authorities sanctioned the employment of exiles, while criminals were requisitioned to build the grade under a military guard. Though recourse to prison labour has been often advocated for railway construction, this is one of the rare instances where it has been brought into actual application through absolute force of circumstances. Assistance was rendered by Chinese labourers, and though at first they proved indifferent in the manipulation of tools, their assistance ultimately proved invaluable, as the majority developed into expert workmen.

As in other parts of the country, the inhabitants were favoured so far as possible in regard to the acquisition of horses, which were necessary for teaming and haulage work generally, in a district where steam traction engines were quite out of the question. The camps were provided also, so far as practicable, with local produce. In this territory, however, a serious situation was precipitated. The harvest failed, and the peasants were faced with starvation. Then the dreaded disease known locally as “Siberia” ravaged the country. It is a plague analogous to the rinderpest of South Africa, and has wrought tremendous havoc throughout the eastern corner of the Russian Empire, its effects being experienced along the shores of the Pacific. In 1898, this calamity assumed such proportions that work had to be brought to a standstill for lack of transportation facilities. The Government attempted to alleviate the situation by organising a special veterinary service to study the plague on the spot, with a view to elaborating some palliative measures. In order to meet the local deficiency the engineers were compelled to dispatch emissaries into Mongolia to purchase the hardy beasts of burden peculiar to that country. Large herds were acquired in this manner and were driven several hundred miles to the grade.

By means of this section the railway was carried so far east as Stretensk, from which point the line was to be continued to Khabarovsk. A modification in the arrangements, however, took place. Under the original scheme the line was to traverse Russian territory entirely, although Manchuria thrust its border so far to the north as to demand a wide detour in order to gain Vladivostok. At last, however, it became possible to carry the railway into Manchuria, and as a link was being built across this country, affording a short-cut to the seaboard, the Amur railway was abandoned, a short length being built to the Chinese frontier to connect with the Eastern Chinese railways instead.

The result is that the extreme eastern end of the line comes to a dead-end at Khabarovsk, and in itself is far from being remunerative. At the time the engineers appeared on the scene the territory had not been explored, signs of settlement were very few and far between, there were no roads, and the population was composed mostly of exiles and prisoners deported from Europe. Construction had to be carried out almost exclusively by convicts, assisted by the military, Chinese and Corean labour. The climate being extremely humid in summer, the work during that period proved terribly exacting, and the difficulties were enhanced by the ravages of the cattle plague. All material, being manufactured in European Russia, had to be brought to the extreme eastern end by water, either via the Suez Canal or the Cape of Good Hope, and consequently delays were frequent and often serious for both grade and men.

The primeval forest was terrible to penetrate owing to the huge trees, which, although they provided ample material for constructional purposes, demanded considerable effort and time for their removal from the right-of-way. As the conquest of Manchuria commenced while this work was in progress, and a shorter cut to Vladivostok was being provided, a spur was driven westwards from Nikolsk to the Chinese frontier to meet the Manchurian railway.

Owing to the rearrangement of the railway chess-board in the East in consequence of the Russo-Japanese war, it is quite possible that the Trans-Siberian railway will be completed as originally planned—that is, through Russian territory entirely, by the completion of the Amur railway from Stretensk to Khabarovsk.

The total cost of the through main line as now in operation was approximately £33,000,000, or $165,000,000. When the various other works incidental to the scheme, such as the connections with the Chinese frontier, are included, the total approaches the enormous figure of £40,000,000, or $200,000,000. This merely represents the building of the track itself between Kotlass in European Russia—now considered a part of the scheme—and Vladivostok, without a single railway car, wagon or engine. As originally designed, the capacity of the line was fixed at three trains each way per day, but the lightness of the construction did not permit this being maintained when the railway was subjected to great pressure, such as attended the transport of troops to the East.

The overhaul of the line was commenced immediately, and the question of doubling the track taken into serious consideration. This latter work is now in progress, and it is estimated that this task alone will represent a prodigious expenditure.

The effect of the railway upon the movement of traffic around the northern hemisphere became manifested immediately. There were two ways in which China and the East generally could be gained from Europe. One route was by steamer all the way via the Suez Canal, the second was by way of the Atlantic, across America by rail, and by steamship across the Pacific. But the Trans-Siberian route was far and away the shortest and quickest, and as the campaign of overhaul is proceeding, acceleration is taking place. Now it is possible to reach Shanghai from London within 16 days, and one can encircle the northern half of the world in less than 40 days.

The extreme precautions observed to preserve communication on the line are noteworthy. The whole railway is divided into sections, each measuring 1,174 yards in length. Each station is provided with a cottage housing the station-master, his family and the employees. Some 4000 of these officials are scattered along the route between the Ural Mountains and the city of Tomsk. The men have a common uniform, which is rather of a military appearance, and it is no uncommon experience to hear passengers unfamiliar with this feature remark that the line is guarded from end to end by soldiers. As a matter of fact, it is just the same as if the various employees of our railways, such as porters, signalmen, guards, ticket-collectors, and so forth, were attired in khaki.