MONSTER EXCURSION TO PORTSMOUTH BY THE DIRECT PORTSMOUTH RAILWAY.
"PORTSMOUTH AND THE SEA SIDE FOR 3s. 6d.!"— Such was the announcement which for many days past attracted the attention of most persons in those towns and villages which skirted the South Western Company’s new line to Portsmouth. Eight hours at the sea side, and at the cost of scarcely the day’s pay of an artisan—and that on a Monday, too! The words were in everybody’s mouth, and the intent was as speedily formed in as many minds to avail themselves of such an unusual and, to most, such a pleasing luxury. Monday, the expected day, arrived, and broke, as even the most inveterate sight seer could wish, a bright, cool, unclouded morning. The train left Alton and Farnham at an early hour, and on its arrival at the Guildford station was ‟made up” into its proper length. But what a sight of people crowded the platform! For an hour previous to the starting time hundreds of persons besieged the station, clamouring for tickets. The supply was soon exhausted, and divers were the means employed to satisfy the increasing demand. Tickets which by their import entitled the holder to a journey to Weybridge and back were made available for the occasion, and numerous other devices, which railway officials when pressed know only how and when to resort to, were also called into requisition. The merry strains of the united Guildford town and militia bands swelled above the hoarse calls and good-humoured laughter of the crowd, creating a scene which we can safely aver has never before been witnessed at the station. Five hundred tickets were issued to as many persons, and the whole were in time comfortably seated in the train, which consisted of forty odd carriages, drawn by three monster engines. At last they're off, the bands striking up a merry tune, which was nearly drowned by the hearty cheering of the excursionists. At Godalming new station another scene presented itself, some 300 persons being there, closely packed upon its platform, awaiting the arrival of the party. The rush to the carriages was somewhat terrific. The efforts of the officials were of little avail; indeed, what could two or three strong-minded men do against such a throng? they therefore wisely adopted the plan of letting the company seat themselves, only offering such advice and assistance as was especially sought for. The Godalming brass band here accompanied the train, and for awhile there was no want of music and its cheering accompaniments.
The same scenes occurred at each station on the line, hundreds of persons being assembled on the respective platforms, all anxious to join the excursion. At Milford, Witley, Haslemere, Liphook, Petersfield, and even so far down as Rowland’s Castle, the excursion mania seemed prevalent, the crowds of passengers from each place being something truly astonishing, until the total number amounted to something like 1,800 souls. With such a freight of human beings the progress of this monster train was necessarily somewhat slow—indeed, on some of the gradients it seemed doubtful, even with the united strength of the three powerful engines, whether the ascent of the incline would ever be accomplished, it taking sometimes as much as six or seven minutes to perform one mile; but on the other hand, the momentum of the immensely burdened train was such that the descents were almost terrific. But owing to the excellent management which superintended the train, everything was accomplished safely. By the slow action of the train the passengers greatly enjoyed the really beautiful scenery through which the line passes, from the thickly-wooded ravines of Brook, to the wild and desolate, though romantic-looking wilds of Hindhead. As the train stopped at each successive station, the bans struck up merry airs, although some of the tunes must have grated somewhat harshly upon the ears of the expectant travellers who were waiting its arrival. ‟Wait for the Waggon” was a very favourite melody, and certainly not an inappropriate one, but at Petersfield, for instance, when some hundred persons were vainly looking for seats among the crowded carriages, ‟Oh, dear! what can the matter be?” must have sounded somewhat tantalising, played as it was, with the full force with which brass instruments are capable. The telegraph had duly announced down the line full particulars of the monster train, and as a consequence the sides of the railway where any habitations occurred were thronged with spectators, who cheered and were cheered in return, only as English excursionists can cheer. To chronicle one-half the ‟sayings,” or one fractional part of the doings of those who formed the excursion on its downward journey would require far more space than we can spare; suffice it therefore to say, that mirth, jest, and some few practical jokes were the prevailing elements, all tending to one common centre, namely, general enjoyment.
The train safely arrived at Portsmouth twelve o’clock, and the tedious task of taking tickets having been duly performed, the immense multitude were permitted to leave the carriages, and a perfect scene of confusion followed, for, as usual, every one was anxious to get out of the station first, and the crowding and crushing was of course terrific, in the midst of which were heard the cries of distressed females who had lost their chaperones, children separated from their parents, and friends from their respective parties and above which the strains of the band were heard with ‟Willie, we have missed you” its theme. How many ‟Willies” were missed in that throng it is impossible to say, but evident it is that in this instance music bore some relation to fact. Gradually, however, the crowd dispersed, and as the bands struck up a martial air, all moved off to view the various ‟lions” with which Portsmouth, Portsea, and their numerous environs abound. Some betook themselves to the dockyard and Gosport; others to the Isle of Wight; and not a few to Southsea Common, where the garrison troops were being reviewed by Major General the Hon. Sir J. Scarlett. Here it was that few of the spectators, and more especially our Guildford friends, felt particularly at home, for in the commanding person of the reviewing officer they speedily recognised the quondam candidate for the representation of their native town, and hence interest and attention were fully developed in his every movement, and not a few remarks were made as to the connection which had existed, politically, between the gallant general and his now admirers. It would be tedious, as well as difficult, to recount the adventures which befell the 1,800 persons, who, in groups of twos and threes rambled over the entire place—it is enough to state that, turn where one would, whether in Ryde, Gosport, Portsea, Landport, or Southsea—on the steamboats and in the docks—on the ramparts along the beach, or afar off on the ‟deep deep sea”—there were to be found our curious, enterprising excursionists, prying into objects, natural and artificial, with all that intensity of observation which is the peculiar characteristic of Englishmen in general, and of excursionists in particular.
The return journey was announced for 7.15 p.m., but long previous to that hour anxious and tired groups of persons had arrived at the station, but how different was the scene to that of the morning. A cold bleating wind had arisen, and dark heavy clouds hung over the atmosphere, threatening every moment a heavy deluge of rain. The bands as usual played their way to the station about seven o’clock, by which time the departure platform was literally besieged by the excursionists. Barriers were erected to prevent the excessive thronging, but the pressure upon them was too strong for resistance, and they easily were broken down. A long line of empty carriages on the down platform were speedily filled, the inmates knowing little if such were intended for their use; and perhaps caring less about the matter. The great object appeared to be to get seated in some carriage or another, and as these offered the only opportunity of doing so, they were all soon ‟crammed” to the very doors, all degrees of class or distinction being utterly ignored. A second train was, however, formed on the up platform, which likewise in the space of a few minutes was filled excess. Here again how different was the scene to that of morning. Instead of the joyous excitement which then prevailed, there was, when once seated, of tone of solid and sober quietude. True, some few—and we are pleased to say the instances were but few—whose lively talk betokened too intimate acquaintance during the day with ‟John Barleycorn” and his parasites; but the majority were content to sit quietly down and to recount to each other the various enjoyments in which they had each and severally participated. The musicians, too, who formed the bands appeared also in new characters, for in the confusion on the platform various members thereof had become separated and lost, some going in one train and some another. Thus, while one mourned the loss of an ophecleide cornet, in the other a clarionet or trombone were missing, a large preponderance of drum also falling to the share of the last train. These were deficiencies which, under the circumstances, could not well be remedied. The effect was that on the return journey music was almost at a discount. Feeble efforts were certainly made at times to get up a tune, and occasionally with some degree of success, so far as to make the strain of the air intended to be played intelligible, but there were evident symptoms that the instruments themselves had imbibed strong drinks, or had become intoxicated with the delightful pleasures of the day—for alter several spasmodic efforts, music and musicians gradually relapsed into a ‟calm and silent solitude.” A pelting rain descended shortly before the trains left Portsmouth, which to the unfortunate occupiers of the open carriages doubtless proved a great drawback to the pleasures of the day, and but for this everything passed off as comfortably and as pleasing as an excursion train possibly could do, which is certainly saying a great deal. The trains arrived at their respective destinations shortly after eleven o’clock, and as safely disembarked the remainder of their human freight.
Too much praise cannot certainly be given to the station masters who originated the excursion, and the various officials who assisted in carrying it out. To have conducted a train of 1,800 persons over a single line of railway 30 miles in length without accident or any great delay is certainly commendable, and speaks well for the general arrangements and safety of the line, while the good temper and courtesy exhibited by every one of the employees during its progress is certainly most worthy of being recorded. The great success of the excursion is self-apparent, and we can only hope that the directors of the South Western Railway may not be slow to offer a similar opportunity for the innocent recreation of the inhabitants of this district, who certainly appear not to be very slow in their desires to avail themselves of a privilege when suitably offered.