LOUIS FAVRE, CONSTRUCTOR OF THE ST. GOTHARD TUNNEL

Scientific American Supplement, No. 365, December 30, 1882 by Various, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here. LOUIS FAVRE, CONSTRUCTOR OF THE ST. GOTHARD TUNNEL.

LOUIS FAVRE, CONSTRUCTOR OF THE ST. GOTHARD TUNNEL.

It is now already a year that the locomotive has been rolling over the St. Gothard road, crossing at a flash the distance separating Basle from Milan, and passing rapidly from the dark and damp defiles of German Switzerland into the sun lit plains of Lombardy. Our neighbors uproariously fêted the opening of this great international artery, which they consider as their personal and exclusive work, as well from a technical point of view as from that of the economic result that they had proposed to attain—the creation of a road which, in the words of Bismarck, "glorifies no other nation." As regards the piercing of the Gothard, the initiative does, in fact, belong by good right to the powerful "Iron Chancellor," so we have never dreamed of robbing Germany of the glory (and it is a true glory) of having created the second of the great transalpine routes, that open to European products a new gate to the Oriental world. It seems to us, however, that in the noisy concert of acclamations that echoed during the days of the fêtes over the inauguration of the line, a less modest place might have been made for those who, with invincible tenacity and rare talent, directed the technical part of the work, and especially those 15 kilometers of colossal boring—the great St. Gothard Tunnel, which ranks in the history of great public works side by side with the piercing of the Frejus, and the marvelous digging of Suez and Panama.

We recall just now the names of those who, during nearly ten years, have contributed with entire disinterestedness to the completion of this colossal work. Over all stands a figure of very peculiar originality—that of M. Louis Favre, the general contractor of the great tunnel, whose name will remain attached to the creation of this work through the Helvetian Alps, like that of Sommeiller to the great tunnel of the Frejus, and that of De Lesseps to the artificial straits that henceforward join the oceans. Having myself had the honor of occupying the position of general secretary of the enterprise under consideration, I have been enabled to make a close acquaintance with the man who was so remarkable in all respects, and who, after passing his entire life in great public works, died like a soldier on the field of honor—in the depths of the tunnel.

I saw Favre, for the first time, in Geneva, in 1872, a few days after he had assumed the responsibility of undertaking the great work. He had been living since the war on his magnificent Plongeon estate, on the right bank of the lake. There was no need of dancing attendance in order to reach the contractor of the greatest work that has been accomplished up to the present time, for M. Favre was easy of access. We had scarcely passed five minutes together than we we were conversing as we often did later after an acquaintance of six years. After making known to him the object of my visit, the desire of being numbered among the personnel of his enterprise, the conversation quickly took that turn of mirthfulness that was at the bottom of Favre's character. "This is the first time," said he to me, laughing, "that I ever worked with Germans, and I had not yet struck the first blow of the pick on the Gothard when they began to quibble about our contract of the 8th of last August. Ah! that agreement of August 8th! How I had to change and re-change it, later on. If this thing continues, we shall have a pretty quarrel, considering that I do not understand a word of the multiple interpretations of their charabia. I ought to have mistrusted this. But you see I have remained inactive during the whole of this unfortunate war. I was not made for promenading in the paths of a garden, and I should have died of chagrin if such inaction had had to be prolonged. When one lives, as I have, for thirty years around lumber yards, it is difficult to accustom one's self to the sedentary and secluded life that I have led here for nearly two years."

As he said, with just pride, Louis Favre had, indeed, before becoming the first contractor of public works in the world, lived for a long time in lumber yards. The years that so many other better instructed but less learned persons, who were afterward to gladly accept his authority, had given up to their studies, Favre had passed in the humble shop of his father, a carpenter at Chêne, a small village at a half league from Geneva. It soon becoming somewhat irksome for him in the village, he left the paternal workbench to start on what is called the "tour of France." He was then eighteen years of age. Three years afterward, he was undertaking small works. It was not long ere he was remarked by the engineers conducting the latter, and he was soon called to give his advice on all difficult questions. Between times, Favre had courageously studied the principal bases of such sciences as were to be useful to him. In the evening, he made up at the public school what was lacking in his early instruction; not that he hoped to make a complete study for an engineer, but only to learn the indispensable. He was, before all things, a practical man, who made up for the enforced insufficiency of his technical knowledge by a coup d'œil of surprising accuracy. Here it may be said to me that the piercing of the great St. Gothard Tunnel was accompanied by considerable loss. That is true, but it must be recalled also that this colossal work was accomplished amid the most insurmountable difficulties which ever presented themselves. In spite of this, the cost of the tunnel per running foot was also a third less than that of the great Mont Cenis Tunnel.

When Favre undertook the St. Gothard, he already reckoned to his credit numerous victories in the domain of public works, especially in the construction of subterranean ones. The majority of tunnels of any length which, since the beginning of the establishment of railways, have been considered as works of some proportions (the Blaisy Tunnel, for instance), were executed by him, in addition to other open air works. So Favre reached the St. Gothard full of hope. The battle with the colossus did not displease him, and his courage and his confidence in the success of the work seemed to increase in measure as the circumstances surrounding the boring became more difficult. In the presence of the terrible inundation of the gallery of Airolo and the falling of aquiferous rocks, creating in the subterranean work so desperate a situation that a large number of very experienced engineers almost advised the abandonment of the works, Favre remained impassive. Amid the general apprehension, which, it may be readily comprehended, was felt in such a situation he made his confident and cheerful voice heard, reviving the ardor of all, and speaking disdainfully of "that insignificant Gothard, which would come out all right." The personnel of the enterprise were not the only ones, however, who were uneasy over the constantly occurring difficulties in the way of the work, for the company itself and the Swiss Federal Council made known to Favre their fears that the execution of the work would be delayed. He, however, calmed their fears, and exposed his projects to them, and the seances always ended by a vote of confidence in the future of the undertaking. Favre certainly did not dissimulate the difficulties that he should have to conquer, but he execrated those who were timorous and always tried to put confidence into those who surrounded him. But, singular phenomenon, he ended by deceiving himself and, at certain times, it would not have been easy to prove to him that the St. Gothard was not the most easy undertaking in the world. Those who have lived around him know the jokes that he sometimes made at the expense of poor Gothard, which paid him back with interest, however, and did not allow itself to be pierced so easy after all.

Such confidence as existed in the first years, however, was not to exist for ever. The tunnel advanced, the heading deepened, but at the price of what troubles, and especially of how many expenses! Day by day one could soon count the probable deficit in the affair and the silent partners began to get a glimpse of the loss of the eight millions of securities that had had to be deposited with the Swiss Federal Council. For Favre personally the failure of the enterprise would have been ruin for his fortune was not so large as has been stated. To fears which Favre possessed more on account of the associates that he had engaged in the enterprise than for himself, came to join themselves those troubles with the Germans that he had spoken to me about on the first day. The St. Gothard Company, whose troubles are so celebrated, and whose inactivity lasted until the reconstruction of the affair, was seemingly undertaking to make Favre, who was directing the only work then in activity, bear all the insults that it had itself had to endure. And yet, amid these multiple cares, the contractor of the tunnel did not allow himself to become disheartened. Constantly at the breach he lived at his works, going from the gigantic adit of Goschenen to the inundated one of Anolo, constantly on the mountain, having no heed of the icy and perilous crossing, and passing days in the torrential rain that was flooding the tunnel. Who of us does not picture him in mind as he reached the inn at night, with his high boots still soaking wet, and his gray beard full of icicles to take his accustomed seat at the table, and, between courses, to tell some story full of mirth, some joke from the other works whence he had come, which made us laugh immoderately, and brought a smile to the faces of the German engineers.

It is a singular coincidence that this confidence in his own work, despite all the struggles borne, was shared likewise by another man than Favre—by Germano Sommeiller, the creator of the Mont Cenis Tunnel. When the work of the first piercing of the Alps was yet in the period of attacks and incredulity, Sommeiller wrote his brother the following letter: "Always keep me posted my dear Leander, as to what the laughers are saying and remember the proverb that 'he will laugh well who laughs last!' The majority of the people, even engineers, are rubbing their hands in expectation of the colossal fiasco that awaits us, and it is for that that the envious keep somewhat silent. I will predict to you that as soon as success is assured everybody will mount to the house tops and say 'I told you so! It was an idea of my own!' What great geniuses are going to spring from the earth! I am in haste, so adieu, courage, energy, silence and especially cheerfulness! And especially cheerfulness!" Perhaps this cheerfulness of strong minds is the invincible weapon of those who, like Sommeiller and Favre, fight against apathy or the bad faith of their adversaries! Like Favre however Sommeiller had not the pleasure of being present at the consecration of his glory, for at the Mont Cenis banquet as at the St. Gothard the place reserved for the creator of the great work was empty.

As disastrous as was the enterprise from a financial point of view what a triumph for Favre would have been the day on which he traversed from one end to the other that 15 kilometers of tunnel that he had walked over step by step since the first blow of the pick had struck the rock of the St. Gothard! But such a satisfaction was not to be reserved for him. Suddenly, on the 19th of July, 1879, less than seven years after the beginning of the work, and six months before the meeting of the adits, in the course of one of his visits to the tunnel Favre was carried off by the rupture of a blood vessel. A year before that epoch, I had left the enterprise, Favre having confided to me the general supervision over the manufacture of dynamite that he had undertaken at Varallo Pombia for the needs of his tunnel, but my friend M. Stockalper, engineer in chief of the Goschenen section, who accompanied Favre on his fatal subterranean excursion, has many a time recounted to me the sad details of his sudden death.

For months before it must be said Favre had been growing old. The man of broad shoulders and with head covered with thick hair in which here and there a few silver threads showed themselves, and who was as straight as at the age of twenty years, had begun to stoop, his hair had whitened and his face had assumed an expression of sadness that it was difficult for him to conceal. As powerful as it was this character had been subjugated. The transformation had not escaped me. Often during the days that we passed together he complained of a dizziness that became more and more frequent. We all saw him rapidly growing old. On the 19th of July, 1879, he had entered the tunnel with one of his friends, a French engineer who had come to visit the work, accompanied by M. Stockalper. Up to the end of the adit he had complained of nothing, but, according to his habit, went along examining the timbers, stopping at different points to give instructions, and making now and then a sally at his friend, who was unused to the smell of dynamite. In returning he began to complain of internal pains. "My dear Stockalper," said he, "take my lamp, I will join you." At the end of ten minutes not seeing him return, M. Stockalper exclaimed, "Well! M. Favre, are you coming?" No answer. The visitor and engineer retraced their steps, and when they reached Favre he was leaning against the rocks with his head resting upon his breast. His heart had already ceased to beat. A train loaded with excavated rock was passing and on this was laid the already stiff body of him who had struggled up to his last breath to execute a work all science and labor. A glorious end, if ever there was one!

Favre died in the full plenitude of his forces at less than fifty four years of age, and I can say, without fear of contradiction, that he was universally and sincerely regretted by all those who had worked at his side. Still at the present time when a few of us old colleagues of Goschenen, Airolo or Altorf meet, it is not without emotion that we recall the old days, the joyful reunions at which he cheered the whole table with his broad and genial laugh.—Maxime Helene, in La Nature.

About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books.

This book is part of the public domain. Various (2006). Scientific American Supplement, No. 365, December 30, 1882. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/18763/pg18763-images.html

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org, located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.