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It is the early hours of
the 31st October in the year of our Lord 1897 as I lie here in what
will be my death bed. For the doctor came a few days ago and said nothing
more could be done, I have clung on to life to see my youngest grandchild
born. My youngest son Christopher sits in a chair dozing close to my bed ,
he has been attending to me, helping me sit up when the coughing fits get too
much, cleaning the blood and spittle from my face and chest , encouraging me
to hang on just a bit longer. He is a good lad as are all my children.
Married just over a year he and his lovely young wife Alice live just
a few hundred yards away, my daughters Rose and Emily also live not far
away. Rose with my wife Harriet is attending Alice for this is her first
born, Emily is downstairs waiting to send news of my death or my
grandchild's birth, I do not envy her the waiting.
I must have fallen asleep for with a jump I awake
hearing a commotion downstairs ,Christopher jumps up with a start, the
look momentarily on his face as he looks at me is that of shock
and of question,
had I died whilst he was asleep? then no he realises that I am still
amongst the living. We hear footsteps hurrying up the stairs and Emily rushes
in .She looks first at me then to Christopher and says with a huge
smile on her face ' it's a boy and he and Alice are both doing fine'.
Christopher lets out a whoop and gathers his
sister in his arms and whirls her around, the look of joy and relief on his
face lifts my heart.
The excitement of the moment makes
my heart pound and stutter, my lungs clog and the coughing begins again. They rush to me concern on their faces and as I cough up more blood
and gasp for breath, Christopher picks me up , Emily puts pillows behind my
back and they prop me up, she gets the bowl and I cough more blood
into it I am finding it harder to breathe and my eyes seem to lose focus.
Emily's eyes are wet as she says to me ' don't you
go and die on us now Dad, just hang on a while longer .
Christopher with a look of urgency on his face
says 'Emily go tell mum to hurry back and wrap the baby up warm and bring him as quick as
you can'.
Their faces say they think I will not last much
longer, but I was always an obstinate man and I am not changing now. I sink
back into the bed willing my body to relax and give me some respite. I
turn my mind back and look at my life until now. This is my story.
I am Thomas
Topott Gagg an Engineer, born in Westminster in 1819 my father whom I am named after was a Landscape and
Portrait painter,
His father and Mother John and Elizabeth (Topott) Gagg were born in
Nottinghamshire, John in a village called Misterton where the Gagg family
had lived and farmed for centuries .They came to London son after their
marriage in 1783 and my uncle John was born in Westminster in 1787 with my father
being born in 1795.
My grandparents came
from good stock and my father and uncle were given good educations. My
father had an artistic flair and was to choose this as his profession,
traveling all over the country painting Landscapes and Portraits for well
to do folk.. As my brother Edward and I were growing up he sometimes let us
come with him when he was doing a landscape painting. We would take
our sketchpads and try to see who could do the nearest
representation of our fathers work. He let us do that a few times and
then admonished us saying ' to be an artist you must see with an original
eye. My brother Edward was I can say now a better artist than I. My bent was
always in making things work, a broken clock, a spinning wheel, these were
what I had an affinity with.
When I was six years of
age I remember my father reading the London Evening Post
and excitedly saying to my
mother ' look at this belching giant, I must go up there and paint it, there
will be good money in something like that.' I rushed over to look at
this giant and saw only a sketch of this great big iron machine with
wheels.
'Where is the giant
father ' I asked excitedely. He replied 'you are looking at it boy', He then
read out the article about the Darlington public railway and how
it was going to revolutionize the way that people traveled..
According to George Stevenson the man who designed the
Locomotion as he called it, the horse was an outmoded way of
travel and of pulling loads to wherever they had to go. He said that
within five years everyone would travel by his method .
My father continued
reading the article and my head was filled with the day dreams of
a young boy. I could see myself not just riding on one of these locomotives
but being the engineer as Mr Stevenson called the man who
operated the locomotive.
That day I think
was the day my future was laid out and a few years later when the
Liverpool and Manchester railways setup trials to find the best
locomotive to serve a new railway line between the two cities I
managed to persuade my father to let me go with him when he went there on a
painting commission. For the paintings he had done those few years
earlier had all been sold save one that he did for me. Mr Bradman . a coal
mine owner near Liverpool who had purchased one of the original
paintings gave my father a commission of painting the locomotives
taking part in the trials.We travelled up by coach staying in various inns
on the way ,which in itself was an adventure for me.The beautiful English
countryside changing yet unchanging through the different counties.
at night when we eating
in the inn ,the different accents fascinated me although it took a while to
understand what was being said, sometimes it sounded like they were speaking
a different language.
I have no doubt that it
was the same for them when my father and I were speaking. There was much
laughter and beer drunk on those nights. My father keeping an eye on me to
make sure that I did not drink to much. We arrived a couple of days
before the trials, my father wanted to scout out the area for the best
places to setup his easel.. I had my sketch pad with me and wanted to .
draw these great iron beasts for myself, mainly though I just wanted to be
near them and maybe even ride on one of them.
All along the sides of
the track were tents and stalls , fair ground rides being set up and a
carnival atmosphere and excitement amongst all of the people milling
about.There were men making wagers on anything and everything,Jugglers,
and strongmen .My father said to lookout for a 7 foot giant who was his
cousin Jan from Devon and was reputed to be the strongest man in all of
England.
Everyone seemed to be
there to have a good time ,but strange as it is now to think that these few
days were going to bring about probably the most important development in
this land and indeed the world of this century. Now nearing the 20th
centurty we take for granted the large municipal stations and the ease of
getting a train from one great city to the next.The vast amount of goods
that travel along our railtracks arriving without delay at our ports
and cities.
Then of course
everything went by horse and cart or by coastal ships and some along the
canals that were beginning to spring up around the country.
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Gagg family
history