Over 100 Persons Cheer for Allston, the Motorman, the Conductor and Themselves -- Trufant and Reed, Faithful Employees, Had Charge of the Car -- One-Third of the Early Passengers were Women -- Everybody Was Good-Natured, and the Historic Trip Was Pronounced a Great Success.
LEFT - CONDUCTOR GILMAN T. TRUFANT, In Charge of First Regular Subway Car.
RIGHT - MOTORMAN JAMES REED, Who Ran the First Regular Car Into Subway.
Out of the sunlight of the morning and into the white light of the subway rolled the first passenger carrying car at 6.01. The car was from Allston, and it approached the immense yawn in the earth by the way of Pearl st, Cambridgeport, and the Harvard bridge. Conductor Gilman T. Trufant, an old timer in the employ of the West End, clocked the fares and motorman James Reed whose hair has silvered in the company's employ, compelled the pent up lightning to do his bidding.
Over 100 persons were abord the car when it rolled down the incline leading to the Boylston st maw, and they yelled themselves to the verge of apoplexy. Cheers were given for the motorman, for the conductor, and three times three, many times repeated for Allston.
Conch shell tints streaked the eastern sky when the earliest of those who made the trip put in an appearance at the Allston car sheds. They rode out from the city at 4.15 some minutes before dawn threw on her russett mantle. It was starlight then, and the thoroughfares on the way out gave few signs of life. The trolley hissed along like a brude of vipers, and the car shed where was housed the coach destined to be the first regular to get off the earth was reached just as the gray of morning smiled sleepily over the high piles and lofty spines.
Five by the clock had not yet been deemed when a woman was discerned hurrying down one of the streets leading to the car shed. She was fastening the strings of her bonnet as she half ran, and was quite out of breath when she came to a halt near the group of street railway men and other citizens who were waiting for their car to roll out for the run in. A cook, by his vocalization a shanghai, sounded his clarion in a remote backyard, and the lady harking to the sound smiled and guessed she was in time after all. Her clock was stopped, and she was so afraid that she would lose the car that she really didn't know whether her bonnet was on straight or not. She had finished fixing it on her head while hurrying down the sidewalk. One of the railway officials thought she should be compensated for displaying so much pluck, and invited her to enter the car shed and take a position on the front seat. This she did, and the bracing air duplicated the flush of dawn in her face long before the car reached town.
Birds were bubbling with the exuberance of morning and the sun was kindling mock fires in the east-facing windows when the motorman appeared afoot around the corner with a six inch to the weather smile dappling his contentness with happiness. Up over the car shed entrance a clock with guilded hands and sulphur colored numerals marked 5.15. Thirty persons, two of them women, were waiting for the start, and the majority of the 30 greeted the motorman. He was in new uniform, and he admitted that the anticipations of the run had robbed him of a great deal of sleep.
Visions of the Cypress st car, spitting fire and hissing like escaping steam in its horrific rush to get the subway first was his bete noir of the night, and he couldn't sleep.
"Every time I closed my eyes to whip around the curve into the land of Nod" he said, "I could see the motorman on that Cypress st car looking over his dashboard with flaming eyes and yelling, `Another car behind.' to everyone who tried to stop him. His conductor, too, was stone blind to the signalling hands. Fiery fountains played beneath the wheels and a man in a West End uniform stood on the foot board in front with a big scoop with which he fed the sand to the rails. Do you know, I believe that fellow is going to try to cut me off at the confluence of Huntington av and Boylston st, but if he does he will have to burn sand and manufactured pyrotechnics all the way in."
Others arrived while the motorman was talking among them the conductor and a division superintendant of the road. The doors of the carshed were run back and Chief Inspector Fred Sterns very kindly reserved the front seat for the newspaper reporters. He made the trip on the foot board and frequently shouted cautions to the "outside" passengers to wacth out for posts, trees and other things likely to raise bumps on any far outstretched heads.
Friends greeted the motorman and conductor once more as they took their positions, and after inspection to see that the car was fit and ready, the current was cut in and the car run out to the street. More passengers had arrived, and the car, even before the starting time, was comfortable well filled. Time seemed to drag to the anxious ones aboard, and when at last word was given for the start the pasengers let loose a surplus of enthusiasm in a hearty cheer. Out went the electric to the main street amid had clapping and handkerchief waving, and cries to the motorman of "get there, Jim, old man, and don't let any of `em get ahead of you."
Jim was all smiles, but there was an unmistakable trace of anxiety in his face, and, when the curve was turned and the car came to a stop for a half dozen more to get aboard, Jim's voice arose triumphant in "All aboard for the subway and Park st."
Someone shouted: "That's right, Jim, you did that without a stutter!"
"D'ling, d'ling," rang the bell; "br-r-r-rrt" spoke the loosened brake, and the first scheduled car for the subway was once more nodding to the morning and dominating rail lengths with loud, spine shivering clacks. Somehow the trolley seemed disposed to rob Jim and the conductor of the honor of getting into the ground first, for, with a frequency successive enough to fashion picturesque expressions, the trolley would slip the wire and begin bobbing for a bite over the rear dashboard. Before Harvard bridge was made the trolley had sinned enough in this respect to consign it to everlasting coal heaving in the place where only asbestos can be used for note paper, and everybody was fearful lest the tardiness forced on motorman Reed should result in the Cypress st car sneaking in ahead.
All along the route crows of men, women and boys were in waiting, and the air was peopled with uplifted hands. Another car was coming but everybody wanted to be on the first on in, for all knew that unless they were, they could not have anything worth boasting of. The seats were full, both platforms were crowded and the floorboards were fringed, yet there always seemed to be room for one more. Boylston st was black with humanity when the junction of Huntinton av was reached, and there was no Cypress st car in sight. As the run had been cleverly timed by conductor Trufant and motorman Reed, the passengers were not made uneasy by the time-killing maneuvers.
Far down the street the entrance to the great tunnel was marked by a canal of humanity. The passengers aboard the car had packed themselves in like sardines, and the black mass yelling like a jungle of wild animals, dipped down the incline for the underground run to Park st.
Cheers chased cheers and yells pursued yells up the straight and around the curve at the corner of Boylston and Tremont, and the echos came back on the other track softer and subdued by hard knocks against steel uprights and painted streamers. Some of the passengers had brought flags, and there were broke out to the white light of the arc lamps and as the car was running under the part of the common that so long served as a sarcophagus for the dead of a remote period, some one with lusty lungs began to sing:
"O, Mister Captain stop the ship! I want to get out and walk." And when another pair of sturdy lungs interrupted with, "What's the matter with riding?" the singer replied:
"There are 19 elbows planted against my spine, there are two boys on my shoulders, and 14 feet on my pet corns. Do you blame me?"
Good nature had the car in charge from the start, and good nature was never once ousted. The man with a whole colony of elbows in his lumbar region was guyed, as were those who were left in the street on the way in. He was asked to cheer for Allston, and he did rounding out his hilairity with: "In the subway, in the subway let us trolley gay and free." the rest being lost in the hurrah bounced up against the roof by the railway employes at the Boylston and Tremont st station, who, with a number of spectators were awaiting the approach of the first car. More cheering and counter-cheering with loud cries of, "What's the matter with Allston?" and "Are we in it?" followed, and the overloaded car was once more started for Park st, where fully 300 persons were lined up, on the broad grin. Hats were whirled, hurrahs ripped out, and a crowd of swarthy Italians yelled: "Bravo, bravo, bravisimo!"
The end of the route was reached about 6.04 and when the car was brought to a stop in front of a row of turnstiles the conductor informed his cargo that the end of the route had been reached. Turnstiles commenced to creak and whimper, and one of two over-anxious passengers had their funny bones touched up in trying to hurry through. How so many persons ever got aboard one car is a mystery, but they were as dense in the coach as tent caterpillars in an apple tree, and when they made a break for the turnstiles the scene was more like the debarking of a suburban train at the union station.
Other cars followed quickly on the rear shunted cow catcher of the first car, and at 6.30 the novelty of entering the subway was showing signs of age. It is a pleasant place, well-ventilated, well lighted and good to look at.
Allston will tickle herself to death at having sent the first car through, and in years to come strangers visiting the city will be sure to inquire for the suburb selected by the West End to wear such a plume of honor.
J. N. Taylor
WHO THEY WERE
Names of the Passengers Who Made the Famous First Trip.
The passengers who started with the car from Allston station were Chief Inspector Fred Stearns and his wife, Morris D. Walsh, Miss Minnie Smith, Miss Carrie Belle Vasque, Miss Carrie Dolloff, Miss Frankie Dolloff, J. Evanoff, Edward H. Nelligan, starter William Day, James F. Uphom, Leon L. Marie, Charles P. Holbrook, Attalle Aronson, Wilber F. Atwood, Albert G. Heutz, Harry Harms, Dr L. C. Stillings, H. L. Greene, Adam O. Brewer, William F. Harms, L. Marshall, George H. Waitt, Verne C. Hubbard, George W. Cose, Mrs. J. A. Cose, Miss Sadie E. Kirkpatrick, Arthur T. Pierce, George W. Blake, M. A. Shaffer and Horace K. Osborn.
HE WAS ON BOARD TODAY TOO.
Mr. C. W. Davis of Somerville Rode on the First Car of the Metropolitan Line on Washington Street in 1856.
Among those who got up early this morning to ride on the first car through the subway was Mr. C. W. Davis, who came from his home on Dickerson st, Somerville, to enjoy that privelige.
He met the car on Pearl st where there was hardly standing room on the foot board and was told that he would have to wait for the next car. But he made an appeal that could not be denied when he said that he had ridden on the first car that the Metropolitan road sent over the Washington st line in 1856, and he wanted to be able to say that he was among those who rode on the first car that ran into Boston's famous subway. The younger men made room for him at once, and he hung on to one of the uprights all the way to the end of the route.
After the car reached Park st Mr. Davis came to The Globe office to ask The Globe if it would find out for him if there was any other of the first passengers on that line living. He was induced to tell something about that ride in the spring of 1856.
"I was a young man at the time," he said, "and had just returned from the west, where I had gone to work at cabenit making. I had a chum named Chris Coll, and the man we worked for in Roxbury asked us if we were not going to take a free ride in the horse cars to the Old State house and back. We had not thought of it up to that time, but did not refuse the chance.
"We took the car, one of the old bobtail kind at the Roxbury postoffice and rode down Washington st to the old state house. We did not make the distance in as good a time as we did the ride this morning. The horses were slow, and the single rail was somewhat rough. But we got there in time.
"The running schedule called for a car every half-hour in, those days, and that was thought to be fast running. People have learned to live and move faster in these days period. The ride was a novelty, and we had enjoyed it very much. When we got back we were heroes for some time, and repeated the story of that ride hundreds of times.
"What a difference there, was in the ride this morning. Why you could not scare up as many people on a dozen trips as we had on that car when it reached the subway. And the cars! Think of a car that would hold comfortably about 20 persons, drawn by one horse, and not a fast one at that. None of the comforts of open cars. The door was at the rear end and the driver was the conductor as well.
"The uniforms were not in use at that period of streetrailroading and although a great improvement on footing it for four or five miles, the cars were not such a convenience.
"I think," concluded Mr. Davis "that I am the only man living today who rode on that trip, and if there is another living I would like to hear from him."
WOMEN WERE ENTHUSIASTIC
Throngs of Them Enjoy a Ride in the Tunnel - Estimated That 111,000 Persons Were Carried in First Six Hours.
"O, dear, isn't it delightful!"
"Why, dear, did you ever? I thought it would be quite dark and gloomy looking."
"O, come, and let us ride around again."
"Well, I should like to be around for a thousand years to see what they will do by that time."
These are but a few of the expressions used by the thousands of travelers throughout Boston's new subway, which was opened for traffic at 6 o'clock this morning.
To say that the vast majority of people were delighted over the new route is to put it mildly.
The women, as might have been expected, were by far the more enthusiastic portion of the community. Everybody knows what they will do at a ball game or in a theater, when they desire to get a good view of the performance.
That politeness, which it would be a crime to deny them under ordinary circumstances, is thrown to the winds, and the man who is seated back of her counts himself lucky in having his vision completely obstructed by a lady.
So it was in the subway today.
Thise who occupied the rear seats saw little of the interior construction. The moment the cars entered the incline the fair occupants of the front seats were on their tip toes, peering ahead, to see what the interior promised.
"O! See the lights!"
"My, how white it is."
"Ugh, what a draft."
And so they went on. There was no care for those who sat behind them. They had paid their fares to get a view of the subway, and they were going to get it. "Down in front," from the benighted occupants of the rear seats, had no effect on the fair passengers forward. They were bound to vent their enthusiasm, and, womanlike, they wanted to see all there was to be seen.
They were whisked along through the subway, most of them holding their breath in anxiety as the car shot along, only to give vent to their feelings with an "O, dear," as they were landed at the Park st terminal in three or four minutes after entering the subway.
It must be admitted that they did not make all the comments that were made about the new transit system. The sterner portion of the population was just as curious as the women, and expressed their ideas just as pointedly and almost as frequently.
The general sentiment after the subway had been in operation for four or five hours was that it was a great success as far as it goes. The running time between the entrance in the public garden and the terminal at Park st varies from three to four and a half minutes, according to the experience and caution, or perhaps the timidity, of the motorman and the number of passengers who desire to alight or get on the cars at Boylston st.
The run, however, was generally made in a trifle over three minutes, which is undoubtedly a great gain over the old system on the surface.
But the speed was not after all the greatest advantage noticable in the operation of the subway, although it was by no means unimportant. The regularity with which the cars were run, the haste with which they were occupied and emptied at the Park st terminal and the machine-like precision with which they arrived and departed were undoubtedly wonderful. To look on for half an hour and see car after car pull in, unload its passengers, swing around the loop and take on a fresh burden of passengers was a revelation to those who have experienced the crush near the old granary burying ground. There was not a moments delay, the interval between the arrival of a car at the Park st station and its departure with a new load of passengers being only a question of seconds.
Neither was there the slightest friction of any kind. Every man seemed to know his own place, and do his own duty. There was no conflict of authority, there was no failure to attend to any detail. Had the employes been performing their duties for five years instead of five hours, the work could not have gone more smoothly.
The capacity of the subway was undoubtedly tested to a far greater extent during the early hours of today than was anticipated by those who have been making estimates on what it could accomplish. The interval between every two cars was set at an average at 45 seconds, in computing what it could effect. Today, however, the case in which that interval elapsed between the passing of one car at any given point and the arrival of the next was the exception rather than the rule. Scarsely more than 30 seconds passed between the several cars while the instances were countless when one car pulled up at the Park st station ten seconds or less behind the one ahead.
For that reason it is absolutely impossible to state with any degree of accuracy, just how many cars or passengers passed through it at any given time. There were a number of extra cars running to accommodate those who desired to get through.
Perhaps a fair estimate would be that during the first six hours from opening of the subway until noon a car passed by in each direction every 35 seconds. The average number of passengers was supposed to be about 90 on each car, although on some instances there were nearer 150. Taking 90 on each car as a basis, it would mean that 9270 passengers had passed each was during the hour or about 18,500 people all together. This, would make for the six hours up to noon about 55,620 in each direction or a total of 111,240 passengers. The estimate undoubtedly seems a large one, but when it is remembered that a large portion of those who made the trip did so as an experiment, and was shown by the fact that very few of them going in either direction left the cars at the Boylston st station, it does not seem so unreasonable.
The West End people had an official at the entrance of the subway on Park st, provided with a book on which he marked the arrival and departure of each car, so that the exact figures will doubtless be forthcoming a little later, and it will then be easier to estimate how many people passed through on the opening day.
There can be no such thing as absolute accuracy in determining the matter, for the people crowded and pushed to get aboard, and, the frequency with which the cars were run prevented anything more than a rough estimate of the number on board each car.
Pres Little of the West End road was one of the earliest to take a trip through the subway, arriving about 7 o'clock. The other officials who have been superintending the instruction of the railroadmen during the past few days, were also on hand early, some of them before the opening this morning. General Manager Sergeant, general superintendant Rugg and division superintendant Hawes were assuduous in looking out for the safety and comfort of everybody.
Just at 10.20, as a Jamaica Plain car, marked "Huntington av, Cross-Town," and numbered 2022, was leaving the covered-in portion of the subway, in the public garden, the trolley struck the crossbeam at the end of the covered portion of the subway.
The trolley was bent out of shape instantly and the car was quickly brought to a standstill. The conductor and motorman at once mounted on top of the car, and in a few minutes had the trolley rearranged and the car moved along. There was no excitement or nervousness among the hundred or more passengers on board.
Transit commisioner Dalton was an early visitor. When asked what he thought of the working of the new arrangement he said "You newspapermen are closer observers, and perhaps less prejudiced than I could be, as one who has had so much to do with the construction of the subway. But I think the West End road has done everything up in excellent shape.
"They have lighted the place splendidly, put in the best and safest rails, and have gone to great expense to make everything comfortable for the traveling public. It is too soon to say much about the working of the subway, as undoubtedly many little drawbacks, which will become noticable in the course of its working, will have to be removed. But, on the whole, I think it has been demonstrated that the traffic over this portion of the road can be brought down here to Park st expeditiously, comfortably and safely."
Senator Dallinger of Cambridge was another early arrival and he, too, was very much pleased at the speed and comfort he found in subway travel.
In fact there was scarcely a car that arrived at Park st that had not one or more well-known citizens on board.
George Fred Williams utilized the subway on his was down town from the Park sq station. He said that the trip was a pleasant one, but he did not see that there would be a very great saving of time when the other lines began to run also, which now run on Tremont st. He thought the stops at the stations would very nearly use up whatever time would otherwise be gained in the subway.
Max Fischacker, M.J. Creed of South Boston and numbers of other well-known citizens were among those who patronized the subway during the early morning hours. They were all very much pleased with their experience, and thought the subway would do much to remove the congestion from the surface of Tremont st.
On Tremont st itself the change was most marked because of the transferring to the subway of so many of the cars which usually ran along that street. The distance separating the cars on Tremont st was greater that it had been for years, and the safety of pedestrians who crossed the street was very much greater than formerly.
This was especially the case in front of the Granary burying ground, which up to today was almost impassable during the greater part of the day. There was not the slightest suggestion of crowding there, or, in deed, at any other point on Tremont st.
Some few people, through force of habit put up their customary stand in front of the burying ground, expecting their cars to come along as usual, but they quickly realized that that place as a terminal for street cars is a thing of the past in Boston, and made their was to the Park st entrance of the subway.
The ticket agents at the entrances to the subway were able to handlethe great crush of business without any trouble. There was not a moment's delay in entering and securing a ticket; in fact the ingress is much more prompt than it is to the ferries to East Boston, or at any of the steam railroad stations.
The turnstiles too, which it was expected, would give more or less trouble, worked very well. Once in a while a woman who wanted to crowd her neighbor and get through at the same time, got a slight tip from one of the bars of the turnstiles, but in the main they worked very well, for such an innovation in street-car life in Boston.
Policemen stationed at the entrances to the subway and at the exits kept the spaces clear, and directed those who desired to enter and leave just where they ought to go. The station masters, too, looked after the convenience of passengers, so that there was little or no confusion.
The second electric car to enter the subway was a sort of overflow car of the Allston line. It didn't have many passengers till it reached the public garden entrance.
There was found a cheerless multitude which had been unable to get aboard of the first, and they comforted themselves with getting locations on this. The conductor managed to ring 135 fares, but probably there were 20 others he didn't get, as he was in much the same position as was conductor Trufant; he couldn't get around to the waiting nickels.
The second car was No. 1743, conductor H. C. Greenlaw, No. 9138; motorman starter William Day of the Allston station.
On this car Mr. George D. Burbeck of Cambridge claimed that he secured the first ticket sold at Park Street station.
The third car was No. 2534 of the Cypress st, Brookline division. Its conductor was Frank Kennedy, No. 2093; motorman, James W. Boyd, No. 2217.
The fourth car was No. 1035 of the Meeting House Hill, Dorchester, line. The conductor was Edmund L. Fox, No. 1035; motorman, Bernard Fox, No. 1120. They are not related.
The fifth car was No. 2180 of the Allston line. The conductor was O. N. Green, No. 9115; motorman, H. B. Harrington, No. 9038.
Then followed the regular string of electrics that has made Boylston and Tremont sts a moving panorama of slow transit for several years past.