I'd like to look again at how the Victorians built embankments with the spoil from cuttings.
Well, they didn't always. They usually tried to get the two volumes to balance out, but it didn't always work. For instance you might need to elevate, for drainage, a long stretch of line above an expanse of basically level but soggy land. Here you would often excavate the required material from broad shallow ditches parallel to the embankment. Or you might find the material excavated from the cuttings might not be suitable for building embankments, and have to dig borrow pits to find something better.
I want to keep this general but I can offer a scenario:
We want to build a new line, the starting point is in the countryside at what will be the half way point of this new line. At this starting point we need to dig out cuttings, next to the first cutting will be a series of embankments and as each load of spoil is dug out it's then tipped to what will be the height of the embankment and the level of the to be track bed in the cutting.
As the cutting progresses in one direction the embankment does so in the opposite direction, as a result the spoil has to be transported over an ever increasing distance.
This is true.
I remember reading somewhere that it was preferred that you tipped onto an embankment until it was at its required height rather than tipping in layers? I think (but not sure) Robert Stephenson and Brunel preferred this method as they said it was quicker. I also seem to remember that boulder clay was used for the actual banks / sides of embankments?
No, you
should tip it in layers, about a metre thick, one at a time, with the edge of each one a controlled distance, usually about 2m, in from the edge of the previous one. That way you get a better consolidated and more stable embankment, with much less time and allowance required for it settling before it goes into service. This was well known from building canal embankments, and some of the canal engineers called the railway engineers cowboys for using end-tipping, but they did it universally anyway because it was quicker. I suppose it was most of the time, but there were still many occasions where a newly-built embankment fell down, or got washed away soon after the line opened, or kept embarrassingly slipping a little bit more every time the inspector came to check it again.
End tipping naturally results in an embankment which as well as being poorly consolidated, is much too steep - it's basically the natural slump angle of the fill material, so it doesn't need a lot of provocation to slump a little bit more. Broadening the embankment to reduce the gradient to something reasonable for long-term stability takes a heck of a lot more material and also labour to spread it out, so they did as little as they reckoned they could get away with. Consequently most of our present railway system uses embankments which are far too close to the limit of stability, and frequently need patching up.
(Cuttings, too, they would cut as steep as possible so as to have less muck to shift, and not always up to speed on how slicing a great big ditch across a slope might affect the stability of the slope as a whole either.)
It's not that they didn't
know; they knew pretty well what the criteria for stability were, but the standard they were applying them to was more like "if it lasts the first couple of winters it'll stay up long enough not to embarrass me" than anything more rigorous. The modern version of that is "paying fines for train delays for the next 50 years is still a smaller amount of money than paying to actually fix the bit that keeps falling down, so we'll carry on not bothering to do it", which is worse, and they actually write it down too as if it was a commendable piece of reasoning.
Clay, also, is a
baad material for embankments. It's slippery and good at forming a lubricating layer that material on top of can slide off. Depending on variety it can be hard as rock when dry but like soup when wet, so the maximum angle for stability varies hugely with weather conditions, and also with time and with how deep within the embankment the sample you're looking at is from, due to the delays in water percolating through the structure, down to a very low minimum. Clay can also form an impervious layer and trap hidden subterranean lakes within the embankment, which can be highly embarrassing when they decide they want attention.
Photos showing the embankments adjacent to Dandry Mire viaduct on the S&C are good examples of pictures of clay being clay. Especially that clay, which goes all the way from granite to cowpat according to moisture content. When they tried to build the embankment with the material nearest to hand, instead of piling up it just splodged out sideways, and you can still see the splodgy ripples on either side of the embankment. Quite big ones.
If we say that three cuttings (to our left) and embankments to the right are on a downward slope for both, wouldn't you use some sort of rail track and wagons to transport the spoil? would these wagons have manual hand brakes operated by workers riding the wagons? and I presume horses would pull the empty wagons back up the slope to the latest / furthest cutting?
Yes, they used basically the same level of rail technology as mines and quarries used for internal transport - small four-wheel wagons on roughly-laid track, usually narrow gauge, powered by horses and/or blokes.
You're not "on a slope" simply because a cutting needs to be dug out and an embankment needs to be piled up though. You operate throughout at more or less the intended level of the eventual railway. You start the cutting by digging a gullet in at that level, ie. a narrow cutting which you then dig out sideways and lengthways and chuck the muck down into the spoil wagons, at least at first; you start the embankment by building out a length of wooden staging at the intended height of the top of the embankment, and then tipping muck off the end of it.
You tip it by having a track leading up to the brink with a stop-block at the end of it. A couple of blokes or a horse pull the wagon along and step out of the way at the last moment, so the wheels hit the stop-block, the wagon tilts up on end and the contents fall out down the slope. Get it wrong and the whole lot goes over and you as well. This is especially likely to happen if there's clay in the load and the vibration of the run has made it go gooey so it doesn't fall out when it's supposed to.
As time went on, of course, there was an increasing tendency to use locomotives for the heavier hauls, and correspondingly to use better-constructed, wider-gauge temporary track.
Could (back in the 1870's) standard gauge open mineral wagons be fitted with some sort of hand operated brakes and used by workers riding on them?
What are these "brakes" of which you speak?
They did stuff like that all the time, but when you do something like that you're just thinking about how to make it
go. How to make it stop doesn't occur to you until you're already on the move, and then you don't care, it'll work out somehow. Maybe one of the guys will have grabbed a piece of wood with the intention of trying to jam it in the wheel, or maybe you just reckon on jumping out. Or maybe everyone bottles the jumping out and just hangs on in there until it goes off the end. That's not the way to do it.
They'd be doing it with the site wagons, though, not standard gauge ones. Probably wouldn't be any standard gauge track on the site yet.
Generally the question of providing any "official" wagon-riding transport to site for the workforce was not particularly meaningful in the situation obtaining, but one or two later projects did it; the Elan Valley dam construction project had its own narrow-gauge railway system for connecting the site with the full-size railway and with the model village they built for the workers to live in.