Abstract
In 1492 it took Christopher Columbus 37 days to cross the Atlantic. More than three centuries later little had changed. American packet ships, the greyhounds of their time, were barely beating Columbus, taking more than a month to travel from Liverpool to New York. And then came steam.
First employed to pump water from mines, then adapted to power factories and locomotives, the steam engine was the mother of the industrial revolution. Triumphant on land, steam was problematic at sea. Bulky, unreliable and voracious consumers of fuel, steam engines were difficult to adapt to water transportation. Engine vibration stressed wooden hulls while the considerable space required for fuel, boilers and engines dramatically reduced the capacity to carry paying cargo. For these reasons early steam powered vessels confined themselves to operating on rivers, lakes, canals, coastwise passages or short haul passages across narrow seas. The idea, entertained by some early steam enthusiasts, of a transatlantic steamship service connecting Great Britain and America was dismissed by critics, including the noted scientist Dionysius Lardner, as ‘perfectly chimerical.’ Isambard Kingdom Brunel disagreed.
In 1835 as the Great Western Railway connecting London and Bristol neared completion, Brunel, builder of bridges, canals, railways, infrastructure that connected people and made the world smaller, pondered why the power of steam must stop at the water’s edge. Why could steam power not be used to cross the Atlantic? It was a bold idea, but would require powerful ships at great cost. Undaunted, Brunel persisted, and with the help of Thomas Guppy, a local engineer and manufacturer, Christopher Claxton, Bristol’s harbour master, and William Patterson, a Bristol shipbuilder, they formed the Great Western Steamship Company. Their prospectus promised two identical ships of 300 horse power at a cost of £35000 each providing regular service to New York every month. On 15 July 1837, amidst the cheers of thousands of spectators, Great Western slid down the ways. A few days later she was taken around to London for her final fitting out. By April 1838 Great Britain was ready for her maiden voyage to New York.
Brunel was not alone in seeing the possibilities of steam across the Atlantic. A rival, The British and American Steam Navigation Company, had begun construction of their own steamer, British Queen for service to New York. When complications delayed her launching the company, desperate to beat Great Western across, chartered a smaller steamer Sirius to make the run. The race was on. Although Sirius arrived a day ahead of Great Western she was too small to continue service on the Atlantic. Upon her return the owners assigned her to the Cork–Glasgow crossing. For the moment, at least, Great Western was the only steamer crossing the Atlantic.
In eight years of service Great Western made 45 crossings until she was sold out of service to the Royal Mail Steam Packet Company to be used on the West Indies run. During the Crimean War Great Western was taken up for service as a troopship. Upon her return the aging paddle wheeler needed considerable refit. Unable to finance the investment in 1856 her owners sold her for scrap.
Doe’s graceful and well researched narrative reveals a good deal about the career of this pioneer vessel. In the end, the grand plan failed. Doe suggests that Great Western’s misfortunes were in part a result of Brunel and company turning their attention, and money, towards the innovative iron hulled, screw propelled Great Britain. This was certainly a factor, but the fatal flaw was that The Great Western Steam Company lacked sufficient capital and a coherent business plan that could organise their effort within the limits of existing technology.
Whatever Great Western’s merits, as well as those of her sister Great Britain, two steamships were insufficient to provide regular transatlantic service. When Samuel Cunard stepped forward and offered four ships and twice monthly service to Halifax and Boston, the Admiralty agreed to the proposal with a generous subsidy. While it is true that Cunard pushed every lever he could find to sway Parliament in his favour, four ships offering monthly service was far superior to anything The Great Western Company could provide. Parliament did give momentary salvation to the company by denying Cunard permission to service New York, thus preventing competition between the two firms. That agreement ended in 1847.
Cunard understood, and the partners of Great Western would soon learn, that long haul steamship service was not profitable. The costs of construction and operation of steamships far exceeded those associated with sailing vessels. Wooden hulls needed to be reinforced to accommodate the weight of heavy engines and boilers. Machinery below needed constant maintenance at sea and repair ashore. Crew expenses escalated. Deck crews were still aboard to navigate and handle sails, but added to the forecastle gang were high priced engineers and the suffering ‘black gang’ heaving coal below. Stewards and cook were signed on to serve passengers. With only one ship, poor business methods, no subsidy and high costs, Brunel and his associates were doomed to failure.
While the Great Western Steamship Company failed its ships did not. Brunel’s Great Western and Great Britain cast a heavy influence over steamship construction. Both Samuel Cunard and his partner the steam engineer Robert Napier took careful notice of Great Western. They understood, and Doe’s work reminds us, of the genius of Isambard Kingdom Brunel.