The Florida express was speeding southwards over the railway which skirts the coast of Florida for mile after mile. Among the passengers was Mr. Henry Flagler, one of America’s captains of industry and finance. He was gazing out idly to sea. On the horizon were streams of vessels steaming northwards and southwards in two long flung-out lines. They were units in the great coastal service of steamships which ply incessantly up and down this long stretch of coast between New York, the West Indies and the ports dotted along the shore line of the Gulf of Mexico.

At that time the island of Cuba was undergoing a wonderful change. Its vast resources were being exploited by men of initiative and energy from the two sides of the Atlantic, and the steamship traffic between the island and the mainland was advancing by leaps and bounds.

The financier was cogitating deeply. His thoughts had strayed to the subject of this development, and the fresh impetus it would receive when the Isthmus of Panama was at last pierced and vessels could float through the neck of the continent from the Atlantic to the Pacific. He was the controlling force of the railway over which he was then travelling, and he was weighing the question as to whether new sources of revenue could not be tapped for this system. The southernmost point reached by the Florida East Coast railway was Miami, and though it was a rising town, he saw that its future was limited, because it formed, as it were, a dead-end to the line.

As a result of his ruminations he decided to make a bold bid for the Cuban trade—to deflect traffic from the decks and holds of the passing steamers. A hundred miles or so south of Miami was one of the most strategical commercial ports of the country—the outpost of the United States—where more than 50 per cent. of the vessels trading up and down the coast make a call. Moreover, it was the point nearest to the island of Cuba, Havana being scarcely 60 miles away. Yet Key West was completely isolated; there was not a single stretch of steel binding it to the intricate railway network of the country.

The magnate decided to forge this missing link in the railway chain; to bring Key West into direct touch with New York, Chicago, San Francisco, or any other town on the continent. From his point of view he could see no obstacle to the realisation of such a scheme beyond the capital cost of the undertaking.

When he returned to New York he summoned his surveyor, to whom he unfolded his idea, and to seek his opinion concerning the technical aspect of the proposition. Mr. Flagler’s proposal was to carry the line southwards from Miami to the extremity of the country lying at the outermost end of a chain of coral reefs, and from that point to transport trains intact on the deck of large ferry-boats to Havana, where they could be pushed on to the tracks of the Cuban system. Transhipment of passengers and the breaking bulk of freight between the great centres of the United States and the island would be obviated, while the time that would be saved on the passage was considerable, and, indeed, sufficiently attractive to tempt one to embark upon the enterprise.

The engineer admitted that the scheme was alluring, but pointed out that for some 30 miles south of Miami the line would have to be pushed through one of the worst stretches of country in the United States, “The Everglades”, emerging from which heavy bridging would be required to link the chain of islands together.

However, the engineer was dispatched southwards with a corps of surveyors to investigate the practicability of the scheme on the spot. They lived for months in the inhospitable bog beyond Miami, and steamed to and fro among the islets with their transit and level, plotting out the most economical and easiest route, sounding the water depths around the coral reefs to determine the extent and cost of bridging, and the best means of crossing these breaches in the reef.

Then the surveyor returned to New York and sought the railway magnate. The engineer had a complete roll of drawings and a mass of calculations and figures. He related the fruits of his labours, pointed out the route that he suggested should be followed, and hinted that, although the railway could be built, the cost would be tremendous—would involve the expenditure of millions.

The financier, however, was not perturbed in the least by the cost. The project received his sanction, and a few days later the engineer departed to commence operations. Little time was lost upon the essential preparations, and soon the grade was forcing its way out of Miami towards the most southerly point of the United States.

News concerning the enterprise, which up to this point had been nursed in secrecy, now leaked out. The activity around Miami pointed to something unusual being under contemplation. When the object of the extension became known the financial magnate became the butt of widespread ridicule. His ambitious project was christened “Flagler’s Folly”, under which name the railway has since been known colloquially.

“Well, there is one thing for which travellers will bless me when they travel by rail over the Keys,” the moving spirit humorously replied to his detractors: “they will never be troubled with dust.”

From Miami southwards so far as the eye can reach stretches a dismal tract of swamp where miasma reigns supreme. The Everglades lie below the level of the Atlantic Ocean, and the latter is only prevented from grasping the enormous waterlogged expanse within its ravenous maw by a slender wall of rock which runs right along the coast. But though this barrier resists the incursion of the ocean, at the same time it prevents the imprisoned water on the other side from effecting an escape. The result is that stagnant water, varying from a few inches to several feet in depth, according to the season, spreads over the whole of the depression. It is a huge bog and nothing more, with dank, dense vegetation growing riotously in all directions, forming an ideal home for the alligator, which here is found in large numbers. Some 30 miles of this uninviting marsh confronted the engineers, and until scientific effort discovers some means of reclaiming the country fringing the railway from eternal water, it must remain unproductive.

The engineers found this bog difficult to penetrate. Drainage was impossible, and the raising of an embankment, with the ordinary type of implements at command, was out of the question, because it was impossible to secure a solid foundation for their manipulation. For a few miles south of Miami a rocky ridge thrust its hump above the level of the marsh, and as its situation was convenient it was followed to the uttermost limit.

When the builders were compelled to plunge boldly into the marsh they were beset with difficulties innumerable. Mr. Flagler had realised from the outset, after meditating upon the plans and reports of the surveyors, that the only practicable means of seeing his scheme carried to fruition was by means of direct labour under his own engineers, instead of by contract. Consequently, he secured the services of the most capable engineers available, while labour was recruited from all sides. Fortunately, no difficulty was experienced in this direction, because the offer of good wages, with everything found, was considered by the workmen to be an equitable compensation for the risk of malaria.

The engineer-in-chief, the late J. O. Meredith, who died in harness amid the scene of his labours, resorted to highly ingenious methods to overcome the fever-ridden swamp. Not only did the conditions demand that a heavy, solid earthen embankment should be built, with its level well above the highest watermark, but that the ridge of earth should be prevented from spreading at the base under the superimposed weight of a heavy train, and from the insidious attacks of soaking water.

Owing to the absence of rock and gravel in the immediate vicinity, it appeared as if the engineer would have to haul trainloads of material for this purpose from long distances, and at great expense, to be dumped into the unstable mass. But he decided otherwise. He conceived a far more rapid, simple and inexpensive means of building the embankment. Two large, square, shallow-draught dredgers were built, with large grabs rising and falling from the upper end of a projecting diagonal wooden girder or jib. These were towed to a point known as Land’s End. Here, on either side of the strip of land forming the right-of-way for the iron horse, and whereon the embankment was to be raised, an excavation was made. Each cut was 30 inches deep and just wide enough to float the vessel comfortably.

The grabs were then brought into play, and with each swing they withdrew a huge mouthful of the waterlogged soil, swung it round, and ejected it upon the grade. The grabs were heavy and powerful; their teeth crunched through roots and decayed vegetable matter relentlessly. It will be seen that, as a result, each dredger dug a canal for itself as it advanced on either side of the grade, forming two parallel paths, with a belt of dry land between. Now and again their advance was disputed. Just below the water lurked a large rock which defied removal by the terrible teeth, and yet projected too near the surface to enable the dredger to float over.

Then the engineer gave another demonstration of his ingenuity. Instead of wasting time in blasting away the rock, he threw a temporary dam across the ditch behind the dredger, forming a kind of lock. Water was pumped from the fellow ditch to raise the level of the water a sufficient degree to enable the dredger to float over the obstruction.

The only difficulty experienced in this manner of handling the marsh was that the marl torn out by the grabs and deposited upon the right-of-way was so saturated after its immersion for centuries that it dried very slowly, and delays were frequent and heavy in consequence. One layer of the dump had to be left exposed for a considerable time before the next could be added. But the method of building the embankment proved so eminently successful and efficient, that a new move was made to meet the necessity for allowing the excavated soil time to dry. Four additional dredgers were built, two for each canal, and these were set to work at intervals one behind the other. The foremost dredger laid the foundations of the embankment, the second raised it a further height some days later, and after another interval of time, the third dredger contributed its quota to the constructional work. In this way the task was expedited very materially. In some places the bog was found to be covered with mangrove trees, the roots of which spread like a thick net through the soil. The consequence was that the grabs tore up a large proportion of roots associated with the soil, and the former had to be used for embanking purposes, as it could not be separated from the inorganic matter. But this fibrous substance dried very quickly, and was so highly combustible that it had to be covered with a thick layer of broken stone to protect it from fire, and also to ensure solidity by packing tightly.

The completed track has a somewhat novel appearance. There is the ridge of earth, flanked on either side by a broad ditch, cut by the dredgers and running as equidistantly from one another as if drawn with a parallel ruler. These side canals, however, serve to drain the permanent way to a certain extent.

When the railway-builders made their way through this inhospitable region they did not meet a vestige of civilisation for over 30 miles. Then they came across pathetic evidences of attempts at reclamation here and there in the form of tumbling homes and isolated parties of half-starved negroes, vainly endeavouring to extract some sort of subsistence from the bog.

But it is when the railway emerges from the Everglades that the most wonderful part of the undertaking is seen. A chain of some 30 verdant islands, composed of coral limestone, stretches out in a graceful curve for about 109 miles, to disappear finally into the depths of the Gulf of Mexico at Key West. These reefs are separated by channels of open sea, of varying widths. These interruptions to the continuity of dry land are spanned by massive arched viaducts wrought in masonry. Where the line traverses the islands themselves the permanent way either is carried on embankments or through deep cuts. The expensive bridging has been reduced to the minimum, however, for in some cases where the water is shallow the islands are linked together by a massive solid earthen embankment.

This section of the railway may be said to be amphibious in the full sense of the word. In fact, at one point the passenger in the train is carried beyond the sight of land. The engineer had to build his structure sufficiently strong and solid as to combat the forces of wind and wave, and at a level beyond the reach of the spray. When it is remembered that the railway runs through a territory where tropical storms of terrific fury prevail, and where cyclones are continually wreaking widespread damage, some idea of the character of the work requisite to withstand the buffetings of these abnormal visitations may be gathered.

These climatic disadvantages were brought forcibly before the moving spirit in the enterprise at the time of its conception, and accordingly he demanded that the bridge-work should be built as strongly as engineering science could make it. No expense was to be spared, for the financier was determined that no apprehensions as to safety should be permitted to lurk in the mind of the timid traveller.

The engineer took him at his word. The depth of water in which the viaducts are built ranges from 10 to 15 feet and more, while the rails are laid 31 feet above low water. At some places the channel is wide enough to float a large steamship. The viaducts have been carried out in ferro-concrete, wherein the masonry is strengthened by means of iron rods, freely intersecting, which serve to bind the whole mass into a solid, homogeneous whole, so that the viaduct from end to end becomes practically a single, monolithic structure.

To enable the subaqueous portions of the piers to be built, coffer-dams were erected around the sites, the space within being emptied and kept clear of water by means of powerful pumps. By this means the workmen were enabled to carry out their task of securing the fabric to the solid rock on the dry coral sea-bed. Where the water ran up to a depth of 30 feet, and the situation was exposed to the full fury of gales and of the Atlantic, caissons were sunk for the purpose of constructing the piers to above water-level, the men working in compressed air. The material for constructional purposes was prepared on large, well-equipped floating plants anchored near by. The timber moulds to form the shape of the arches were fashioned and bolted together on dry land, and towed out to sea by tugs to the point of erection and there set in position.

Some of these series of arches on the amphibious section of the railway are only a few hundred feet in length; others measure as many thousands of feet from end to end. For instance, between Long and Grassy Keys—the islands are known as “keys”—the over-sea viaduct is 2 miles from end to end.

The viaduct work was confined to the deepest parts of each channel, being approached from either end over a substantial earthen embankment. Some idea of how this expedient saved the costly task of bridge-building may be obtained from the fact that whereas the distance by the line between Grassy and Long Keys is 29,544 feet—5.6 miles—the approach embankments aggregate 19,100 feet of this total, the long, symmetrical line of arches totalling 10,444 feet. In the case of the gap between two other keys the water is closed by an embankment 21,800 feet in length. In another instance the earthen structure stretches for 11,950 feet to connect Upper and Lower Matecumbe, but inasmuch as this channel is used by vessels, the navigable channel is spanned by a drawbridge 120 feet in length to permit vessels to pass between the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico. In the first 78 miles of track running out to sea from the mainland no less than 14 miles represent bridge-work, the remaining 64 miles being carried out on embankments across the islands and shallow straits, or by timber trestling.

On the islands, grading was not accompanied by any great difficulties. The Keys are for the most part somewhat low-lying, and a certain amount of excavation and filling was required. The latter work was expedited by building a crude trestle down the centre of the right-of-way, on which was laid a large pipe communicating with dredgers, and through this conduit was pumped sand, mud and gravel in a continuous stream to form the grade to the required height, the slopes on either side afterwards being flanked with a thick layer of large stones. Direct labour was employed on this section of the undertaking also, and for the most part the ordinary wheelbarrow, pick and shovel supplemented the efforts of the dredger and pipe line. As the Keys are of coralline limestone, an excellent material for ballasting the line was readily available.

When a point known as Bahia Honda was gained, the engineer-in-chief resorted to more expeditious practice. Ten huge mechanical excavators, each capable of doing every day the work of from 50 to 100 men, were brought into action. They devoured the spoil to throw up the embankment at such a speed that one could see the grade’s daily growth. It was a tedious operation to get these excavators to the scene of action, because they had to dig their own way through the soil to the right-of-way, a task which occupied from one to four months, according to the situation of their respective stations.

One of the gravest difficulties in connection with the whole undertaking was that experienced in provisioning the 3000 or 4000 men scattered at various points, feverishly toiling to fulfil the realisation of the financier’s dream, together with the requisite material. Every drop of water, either for human requirements or machinery, had to be transported in huge tanks from a distance of 100 miles. The engineer-in-chief pluckily attempted to cut down this haulage distance one-half by establishing a water station at a creek 50 miles nearer the front. But he reckoned without Nature:

They had just got the plant going when a wind sprang up and prevented the boats, specially acquired to transport the water from the station to the nearest point on the railway, from approaching within a mile or so of the shore. Hurried arrangements had to be made to draw temporary supplies from Miami once more. A week or two later the wind veered round and blew just as furiously in the opposite direction, with the same result. This experience sufficed to prove that no reliance could be placed upon the new water station, so it was abandoned.

Similarly, all the broken rock for the concrete had to be brought from the quarries at Miami, and with the cement was stacked in huge heaps at Knight’s Key, which constituted the supply depot. The scattered situations of some of the constructional gangs taxed the efforts of the commissariat to a straining-point. In many cases the supply boats, in order to get to their destination, only perhaps a mile distant as the bird flies, had to follow a circuitous route of eight or ten miles to get there.

When it was seen that Mr. Flagler was serious in his intentions, and that the first stretch of viaduct was completed successfully, it was maintained that “Flagler’s Folly,” though a wonder of engineering, never could hope to pay its way. Time alone can prove or disprove this contention, but it is worth while to observe that, as each section of the line has been completed, strenuous efforts to develop the country penetrated thereby have been made. The Florida East Coast railway serves an essentially pleasure country—the Riviera of America. Yet, as the line plunged southwards, hotels sprang up at various sylvan spots, and they rapidly assumed positions of importance. The only barren stretch is the Everglades. The commercial conquest of this useless expanse must come later inevitably, and indeed energetic measures to this end are in active progress.