The Principality is a land of many surprises to the visitor, for it possesses innumerable attractions. Yet it is doubtful whether any feature arouses more interest in North Wales than the strange little railway which runs from Portmadoc for a distance of 13¼ miles among the mountains. Certain it is that no tourist would think of omitting a journey over what is known colloquially as the Festiniog “Toy” Railway, for it is one of the great sights of North Wales.

For several years it held a unique position among the great systems of the world as the narrowest gauge line in operation. The metals are laid only 23¼ inches apart—less than half the distance between the rails forming the roads of the greater proportion of steel highways bounding the globe—and yet it has a traffic which many a more important railway would have just cause to envy. Visitors disembarking from the London & North-Western express at Portmadoc, and seeing the diminutive engine and trucks drawn up alongside on their own road and completely dwarfed by the towering rolling-stock of the standard-gauge line, cannot repress a smile, for the engines, cars, trucks and wagons are no larger than are used upon the larger-sized model railways devised to-day for the amusement and education of the young.

Yet it is a complete pocket edition of the familiar railway, and its capacity is amazing. The engine provokes interest, for it is no taller than an average-sized person. Its coupled wheels are only 28 inches in diameter, while the cylinders measure but 8¼ inches in diameter and have a stroke of only 13 inches. The cars and wagons are on the same scale, and the first impression of the diminutive iron horse awakens doubts as to whether it is safe to trust oneself to its care. But see that self-same engine busy at work hauling a train of 7 passenger coaches, a guard’s van, 10 goods wagons and 100 or more empty slate trucks, stretching out for a length of 1,200 feet and representing a total load of 110 tons, out of Portmadoc, bound for the quarries, and disdain gives way to complete admiration.

The locomotive “Little Wonder,” despite its age, for it dates back from 1869, completely justifies its appellation, for it handles the above load on the steepest grades with ease, and attains a speed of 30 miles an hour where the physical conditions are suited to fast travelling. The work it has to fulfil is not to be despised by any means, for the country through which the line extends is amongst the most rugged in the country. In the course of the thirteen and a quarter miles it has to overcome a difference of 700 feet in altitude, which means a pull against the collar for the whole way from Portmadoc, though the gradients are of varying severity. Yet even the easiest climb is 1 in 186, while the steepest rise is 1 in 68.6; with a bank of no less than 1 in 36 on one of the spur lines. The curves likewise are startling in their sharpness and frequency, and at times when the engine is loaded to its utmost capacity the train may be seen writhing like a gigantic black snake along three curves at the same time.

The permanent way was originally laid in 1839, the enterprise having been carried out for the conveyance of slate from the quarries to Portmadoc. On the downward journey the laden trucks travelled by gravity, the empties being hauled back by horses. In the late ’fifties, however, the chief engineer, Mr. C. E. Spooner, realising the far-reaching advantages arising from the use of power, suggested that the tramway should be converted into a railway, and in 1863 his suggestion was adopted. In the early days travelling was exciting, for the bridges and tunnels were so low that the engine-driver, stoker and other officials on the line had to duck their heads when they reached these obstacles, since to stand upright in one of the vehicles was certain to court a violent end by collision with these structures. These, however, have been altered so that one need entertain no more apprehension concerning safety on this line than when travelling upon a standard-gauge road. Visitors, realising the fact that by its means they could be conveyed comfortably to some of the wildest and most beautiful corners of the Principality, sought its transportation assistance, and in 1864 passengers were first carried as an experiment, but free of charge. The Board of Trade did not decline to sanction its operation in the interests of the public, but possibly somewhat dubious of the wisdom of their action, hedged in the privilege with certain restrictions, the most important of which was limitation of speed. When, however, it was proved that there was no danger in travelling over this two-foot line at 30 miles an hour this latter ban was removed.

The line possesses several features of technical interest, and being a single track, is operated upon the staff system, with every device to secure absolute safety in operation in the form of signalling and telegraphing facilities. Moreover, travelling is comfortable, for although the gauge is less than two feet, the cars, designed by the engineer, are built on the bogie principle and have seating accommodation for fifty passengers. A trip over the line certainly constitutes an experience.

The complete success which attended the conversion of this railway from equine- to steam-power in 1864 stimulated the wider adoption of the narrow-gauge system, though as a rule this term is somewhat elastic, inasmuch as it signifies that such a railway has a gauge less than the standard width of 4 feet 8½ inches, and is particularly associated with the 39 inch or 42 inch gauge. Still several “two-foot” lines were laid down, especially in France and India, so that the Festiniog experiment has proved a very profitable “toy” to more countries than one. In fact, not far distant from the pioneer toy railway is another—the North Wales Narrow Gauge railway—which connects Dinas, near Carnarvon, with Snowdon Station.

These railway systems, however, are of short length, and when one remembers the broken character of the country which they serve, their raison d’être is obvious. But the application of the idea to a trunk line 360 miles in length appears quite impracticable. Yet it has been accomplished, and its realisation has opened up a corner of Africa which formerly was almost impassable, and which, but for its fulfilment, would have left the country traversed in the hands of hostile natives.

This “toy” railway upon a large scale is the Otavi Line, which connects Tsumeb, buried 368 miles in the heart of the wilderness of German South-West Africa, with the coast at Swapkomund. To-day it ranks as the longest narrowest gauge line in the world, the metals, as in the case of the Festiniog railway, being laid only 600 millimetres, or approximately two feet apart.

In the late ’eighties prospecting parties who had heard of the mineral wealth lying dormant in this inhospitable and inaccessible country, set out to ascertain whether rumour could be verified to a sufficient extent to ensure the riches of the rocks being exploited commercially. They suffered great privations and hardships in their toil across the waterless veldt, but when they gained the Otavi country they found that their journey was more than repaid by enormous discoveries of copper. They collected detailed information concerning the extent of these deposits, and when they returned to Europe it was decided to develop the new “Copperado” without further delay.

However, there was one critical point. How could the mineral, after being mined, be transported to the coast for shipment. The intervening country was among the most sterile to be found in the continent south of the Sahara. The mining companies concerned at once suggested a railway as the only solution of the problem. But they realised very readily, from the reports of their emissaries who had ventured to Otavi, that such an undertaking was beset with difficulties innumerable, while the construction of a line upon the standard gauge would prove ruinously expensive. In order to secure extrication from their plight the companies approached the firm of Arthur Koppel of Berlin. The latter company dispatched a corps of its own surveyors to the country to spy out the desert between the coast and the mines, in order to find the best location and to report generally upon the engineering features of the scheme.

When the surveyors returned to civilisation they unhesitatingly recommended a light narrow-gauge railway, such as they had built in several parts of the world where similar conditions prevailed. They advocated the 600 millimetre or two-foot gauge because it not only would meet all traffic requirements for many years to come, but its initial cost would be so much cheaper, and it could be built so much more quickly than a wider or standard gauge. The recommendation was debated at great length, and after discussing the relative estimated capital and operating costs of lines of different gauges, the overwhelming advantages presented by the “toy-line” gauge were found to outweigh any arguments that could be raised against it. The mining companies merely demanded the line as a link between the copper country and the coast for their own purposes. The country lying between the coast and the mines held out no attractions for any economic development, so that all the requisitions likely to be made by the mining companies could be met adequately by such a railway. Consequently the recommendation of the engineers was accepted, and they were entrusted with the completion of the undertaking.

When the mining companies expressed their decision they did not anticipate the extraordinary traffic which the railway would be called upon to fulfil a little later. These were duties which not only taxed the capacity of the diminutive railway to a supreme degree, but were of a character which justified the confidence of the engineers and practically saved the colony to the German Empire.

This reproduction of the Festiniog toy railway was commenced without loss of time. In 1903 constructional engineers with a boat-load of constructional material were dispatched to South Africa, and the grade was commenced from Swakopmund, at a point 40 feet above the sea-level, the location extending in a north-easterly direction to Otavi, 300 miles distant in the interior.

The first sod was turned in October, and the constructional engineers bent to their task with great zest. But scarcely had they got into their stride when the Hereros rebellion broke out. This was an unexpected development, and as the natives had been recruited in large numbers to build the permanent way, the engineers were faced with a grave situation. At the first signs of the insurrection the greater majority of the natives threw down their tools and stampeded from the line to their towns and villages to take up arms. The Governor of the colony strove to arrest this wholesale desertion by recourse to drastic measures—he seized as many men working on the grade as he could and placed them safely under lock and key. The result was that the little band of white engineers was left with scarcely a navvy to assist them.

However, they struggled on as best they could, but progress was painfully slow. At first the insurrection was belittled—regarded as a flash in the pan—and the engineers anticipated confidently the early return of their workmen. But these illusions were dispelled rudely when it became realised at last that the country was up in arms from end to end. There was only one way out of the desperate situation, and that was to import labour from Europe. Such a step upset the preliminary estimates for the undertaking to a pronounced degree, for the native labour had been taken into the calculation when framing the cost of the work. To bring white labour from Europe increased the capital outlay very appreciably. However, there was no alternative, and accordingly an Italian contractor arrived on the scene with a small army of 300 Italians, and work resumed its former busy aspect.

However, peace did not reign for long. The Italian workmen saw that they held the advantage over the engineers, that there was no competitive labour, and accordingly they struck for higher pay. The engineers, caught on the horns of a dilemma, had to surrender, and the Italians picked up their tools. Then another cause of dissatisfaction manifested itself. The workmen concluded that they were being driven too hard, so they declined to perform a full day’s labour. They held the whip-hand and emphasised its potency so frequently, and the friction between employers and employed became so keen, that it appeared more than once as if the contract would have to be suspended until the rebellion was quelled.

While these disputes and continual bickerings were at their height further complication was provoked. The German military authorities, finding the subjugation of the Hereros a far heavier task than they had anticipated, wished to penetrate into the heart of the country so as to strike a supreme blow upon the enemy’s stronghold. They had their own line extending from Swakopmund to Windhuk, but owing to its heavy grades and light construction it had broken down completely under the strain of the heavy military traffic. The authorities strove to alleviate this situation by utilising bullock-carts to transport troops and commissariat up-country, but this alternative failed lamentably. This service was so slow, and the absence of water by the wayside was felt to a serious degree. In their extremity the German Government appealed to the engineers of the Otavi line. They besought them to spare no effort to drive the railway forward speedily, first to Ouguati, 109¾ miles from the coast, and then to Omaruru, 145 miles beyond the former point. As an inducement the builders were offered a heavy premium.

The engineers agreed to meet official demands, and to expedite the constructional work a further army of 750 Italians and 500 Ovambo coolies was sent to reinforce the forces on the grade. To tempt the Italian workmen to strive their utmost they offered a fixed minimum wage as an incentive. However, it was not long before trouble arose once more. The new arrivals fraternised with their compatriots already on the scene, and learned how the engineers had been forced to pay higher and higher wages by recourse to strikes. The Italians came to the conclusion that concerted action would be highly successful because several weeks would elapse before their places could be taken by other imported labour, while they regarded the Ovambo coolies, who proved industrious workmen, with supreme contempt. Every conceivable obstacle was thrown in the way of the engineers. Work was stopped upon the slightest provocation, and apparent grievances were aired with monotonous frequency.

When at last they were placated and the workmen did settle down to their tasks they proceeded in a lackadaisical manner, and the day’s work was only a quarter of what might have been accomplished. Under ordinary circumstances each Italian could have coped with 10 cubic yards of earthwork per day, but they handled only about 2¾ cubic yards! This rendered them distinctly inferior to the Ovambos, who, though not comparable with the Europeans from the physical point of view, plodded along steadily, and handled on the average from 3½ to 4 cubic yards per day. The Italians had no complaint concerning their scale of payment, for they received from 5s. to 10s.—$1.25 to $2.00—per day, while the coolies, who did twice the work, received but 2s. 6d. or 60 cents a day, together with food and housing accommodation.

One day matters reached a climax. The white workmen struck in a body, and declined to move a hand unless they received another increase in wages. The engineers, who had been groaning under the extortionate demands of the blackmailing Italians for several weeks past, now took a firm stand. They declined point-blank to entertain the proposal. Moreover, they commenced to take the law into their own hands and to adopt stern measures. Several of the leading recalcitrants were straightway dismissed for breach of contract. This situation lasted for eight weeks, and at times the outlook became extremely threatening, for the Italians chafed under the unexpected opposition they had encountered. Suddenly the dispute collapsed and the Italians sullenly returned to their work.

Coupled with this distressing condition of affairs at the railhead, the engineers experienced grave difficulties at Swakopmund. They could not get the constructional and other material unloaded from their ships. This harbour is notoriously a bad one, and being congested with military traffic, method and order had given way to complete chaos. Weeks elapsed before an incoming ship could discharge its cargo for the railway, and then the engineers only secured their requirements by building a special mole because the anchorage was silting up with sand.

In the spring of 1905 matters took a more hopeful turn. The sullen Italians were spurred on by the granting of premiums, and under this inducement more rapid progress was effected. The white workmen were forced to their tasks by the appearance of severe competition. Many of the Hereros grew tired of fighting and surrendered to the authorities. When asked if they would be content to work upon the railway they accepted the offer with alacrity, and the Italians saw that they were in serious danger of being displaced entirely. The fair treatment that was meted out to the natives who had surrendered became noised far and wide through the country, with the result that large numbers of Hereros, who had grasped the hopelessness of their opposition, made their way to the railhead and threw down their arms and offered to take up the pick and shovel. It was a curious sight, for here were large numbers of the natives, against whom war was being waged, voluntarily assisting in the advance of the very force that was being driven forward to bring about the complete subjugation of their race. Curious to relate, moreover, the engineers found that their former implacable foes, when properly treated, developed into splendid conscientious workmen, and far easier to control than the much-vaunted white labour.

After leaving the coast the railway makes practically a continuous and steady climb to a maximum height of some 5,218 feet in the course of its 360 miles. Notwithstanding this extreme difference in altitude, it was found possible to keep the banks easy, the sharpest gradient being 1 in 50. The country traversed is most inhospitable, the first 145 miles being through a wild desert, and wide stretches of scrub-covered country broken with kopjes. Extensive bridging was found necessary to carry the track across gullies and rivulets, there being in all 110 of these structures. They are built throughout of steel, the deckplate girder type being the most generally favoured, and the most important work of this class has a length of 333 feet, built up in five spans. The curves were kept as easy as possible, the standard radius being about 500 feet. Here and there, however, owing to the cramped conditions of the route open to the track, it was found requisite to reduce the radius to some 270 feet in order to avoid heavy and expensive cutting through rocks and hills.

Some idea of the extent to which the engineers were delayed by their repeated differences with the Italian workmen may be gathered from the fact that although 23 months were occupied in carrying the rails from Swakopmund to Omaruru, a matter of 145 miles, the second section, from the latter point to Tsumeb, the present terminus, a matter of 215 miles, required but another year. When the railway was rushed onwards from Omaruru, although the country to be crossed was somewhat easier from the physical point of view, and lent itself to more rapid construction, acceleration was attributable in the main to the ample supply of labour available and absence of trouble with the workmen engaged.

Another grave difficulty against which the builders had to struggle was water. In fact, it might be said that the scarcity of this commodity was more perplexing than those governing the labour, strikes notwithstanding. It was not merely securing sufficient supplies for the workmen’s needs, but also for constructional purposes, such as for the locomotive boilers, mixing of concrete for masonry, and so forth. On the first section every pint of drinking water had to be brought up from the base on the coast to the railhead, and as this advanced the difficulties concerned with its transportation increased. In some instances bullock-carts were the only vehicles that could be pressed into service for its conveyance over 30 or 40 miles. Throughout the first 85 miles from Swakopmund to Usakos not a drop could be drawn from the earth. Innumerable borings in search of the liquid were made alongside the line as it progressed, but they were rewarded with no material success. Occasionally small quantities were found, but it was too brackish and quite unfit for drinking purposes. When Usakos was gained the situation was eased somewhat by a local discovery, but the water had to be softened before it could be used by the engines, and accordingly a plant for treating the water in this manner had to be brought up country and erected. This, however, was useless for domestic purposes, and when the line was pushed on from Omaruru, special water trains had to be run for the convenience of the workmen. Huge tanks were laden on the cars and were carried from the coast to the railhead, the journey occupying several hours. The trouble and expense involved in connection with this vital requisite influenced the cost and time occupied in building the line very unfavourably, so much so indeed, that the preliminary estimates of the cost were exceeded very markedly.

This question has not been solved satisfactorily yet, and it will remain to puzzle the administration of the line until some conveniently-situated subterranean water supply is tapped on the barren veldt. The load of every train has to be increased by a special tank-tender coupled behind the engine containing 2,200 gallons of water, which represents so much unremunerative load.

The rolling-stock is quite in keeping with this diminutive railway. The tiny engines have driving-wheels 24 inches in diameter, while the cylinders have a diameter of 12 inches and a stroke of 17¾ inches. Yet they can haul a load of 100 tons at a speed of 25 miles an hour on the level and at 9½ miles an hour on the steepest banks of 1 in 50.

This appears to be a mere crawl in comparison with the speeds with which we are familiar on the standard railways. But when one recalls the manner in which this little “toy” line has changed conditions of travel in a lonely corner of the African continent, and the former rate of progress possible by bullock-cart, even 9½ miles an hour appears to be an amazing speed. Before the iron horse appeared in German South-West Africa, to travel from Swakopmund to Omaruru, a mere 145 miles, was a heroic achievement, entailing a laborious slow tramp through lonely sterile wastes of boulders and scrub. A pace of 7 or 10 miles a day was considered fast travelling, and one who covered the journey in a fortnight was considered to have driven hard. To-day the same distance can be reeled off in about 12 hours.