The Great Train Robbery

It was MAGIC! A fortune in gold was placed in two safes mounted in a special railroad car, under the watchful eyes of government and railway officials. The safes were locked. The doors to the carriage were locked. The car had been designed and constructed to be impenetrable. The train left the station. When it arrived at its destination, the car was unlocked, the safes opened, and—PRESTO CHANGO—the gold had been transmogrified into hundreds of steel balls.

The year was 1854. It would be two years before three men were brought to trial. The court record is voluminous, as is the journalistic record. Michael Crichton used these sources to assemble his narrative. But let us not overlook Crichton's mastery of storytelling here. He brings show more the characters, whether low-lifes or "respectable" citizens, to life through skillfully staged actions and conversations, the telling details, the timely revelations.

The mastermind was Edward Pierce, a man of unknown background but evidently of some means. Crichton wrote:

Edward Pierce…was positively exuberant in his approach to crime. Whatever his sources of income, whatever the truth of his background, one thing is certain: he was a master cracksman, or burglar, who over the years had accumulated sufficient capital to finance large-scale criminal operations, thus becoming what was called "a putter-up."

Initially, the pace is measured. Pierce has outlined his plan. He needs specialists for certain tasks. Discretion is as important as fast, efficient hands. Early in the story, Crichton described (based on court testimony) a meeting of Pierce with Robert Agar, a specialist.

The meeting was unplanned, Agar said, but he was not surprised when Pierce arrived. Agar had heard some talk about Pierce lately, and it sounded as though he might be putting up. Agar recalled that the conversation began without greetings or preliminaries.
  Agar said, "I heard that Spring Heel Jack's left Westminster."
  "I heard that," Pierce agreed, rapping with his silver-headed cane to draw the attention of the barman. Pierce ordered two glasses of the best whiskey, which Agar took as proof that this was to be a business discussion…
  "I also heard," Agar continued, "that he took the train."
  "He might have done…"
  "I…heard," Agar said with a sudden grin, "that you are putting up."
  "I may," Pierce said. He sipped his whiskey, and stared at the glass. "It used to be better here," he said reflectively. "Neddy must be watering his stock. What have you heard I am putting up for?"
  "A robbery," Agar said. "For a ream flash pull, if truth be told."
  "If truth be told," Pierce repeated. He seemed to find the phrase amusing. He turned away from the bar and looked at the women in the room. Several returned his glances warmly. "Everybody hears the pull bigger than life," he said finally.
  "Aye, that's so," Agar admitted, and sighed. (In his testimony, Agar was very clear about the histrionics involved. "Now I goes and gives a big sigh, you see, like to say my patience is wearing thin, because he's a cautious one, Pierce is, but I want to get down to it, so I gives a big sigh.")
  There was a brief silence. Finally Agar said, "It's two years gone since I saw you. Been busy?"
  "Traveling," Pierce said.
  …He looked at the glass of whiskey in Agar's hands, and the half-finished glass of gin and water Agar had been drinking before Pierce arrived. "How's the touch?"
  "Ever so nice," Agar said. To demonstrate, he held out his hands, palms flat, fingers wide: there was no tremor.
  "I may have one or two little things," Pierce said…
  "These one or two little things, could they be crib jobs?"
  "They could."
  "Dicey, are they?"
  "Very dicey," Pierce said.
  "Inside or outside?"
  "I don't know. You may need a canary or two when the time comes. And you will want a tight lip. If the first lay goes right enough, there will be more."
  Agar downed the rest of his whiskey, and waited. Pierce ordered him another.
  "Is it keys, then?" Agar asked.
  "It is."
  "Wax, or straightaway haul?"
  "Wax."
  "On the fly, or is there time?"
  "On the fly."
  "Right, then," Agar said. "I'm your man. I can do a wax on the fly faster than you can light your cigar."
  "I know that," Pierce said, striking a match on the counter top and holding it to the tip of his cigar…
  [Agar] watched Pierce puff on the cigar until it caught. "What's the lay to be, then?"
  Pierce looked at him coldly. "You'll know when the time comes."
  "You're a tight one."
  "That," Pierce said, "is why I have never been in," meaning that he had no prison record.

The book is as animated as a train. Not a runaway, mind you, always under Crichton's control, whether patiently panting beside the train platform or racing at breakneck speed. [The Great Train Robbery] is an engaging, entertaining read. I recommend it highly. show less

In telling the true story of a major mid-nineteenth century crime, Crichton brings his novelist's sensibility to selecting the details that make the tale seem simultaneously real, and larger-than-life. His prose is straightforward and competent, and also evocative without being flowery.

At the same time, he manages fairly well as a historian, offering some biting social critiques of the time in question, but also putting events in their proper historical context and filling modern audiences in on the necessary background (although he does fall short in this regard a couple of times when he attempts economic analysis).

Despite the fact that the key figure, Pierce, is a contemptible blackguard, one has to admire his sheer daring and his show more incredibly intelligent cunning. It is almost as though he even planned his arrest and trial so that he would have an opportunity to tell his story on the record, and to make known his utter contempt for everything conventional (including the peers of the kingdom). If one could take this as a purely fictional novel, you could almost abstract these admirable elements of Pierce's character from the criminal specifics of his actions and consider him a sort of heroic character.

Crichton concludes the narrative rather abruptly, ending with a sentence or two about the fate of each of the key figures when it's known. Perhaps this is Crichton's way of prompting us to draw our own conclusions, or of suggesting that we simply take this story for what it is---a remarkable criminal caper. show less

This was fun. A "highly fictionalized" (according to the wiki gods) account of the planning and execution of the theft of gold bullion (worth approximately 1.2 million dollars in today's money) from a train in motion on the London to Folkestone run in 1855. The word "novel" is prominent on the cover, so no one should be misled, but it reads very much like good narrative non-fiction. For sheer 19th century hi-jinks, though, this is right up there with The Wild, Wild, West, and almost as preposterous. Liberties are taken with the facts, but it did happen, and almost caused an international incident as the gold was bound for France. As usual, Crichton's story-telling is irresistible.

This is by far my favorite Crichton book that I have read, perhaps because it is so unlike most of his work. Instead of focusing on modern society and the technology we create, it is set in the past, meaning that there are not nearly as many asides explaining either technology or philosophy regarding said technology. Its also a caper story, and I love a good caper, watching criminals come up with a plan and execute it. Its just a fun book, and that's not an adjective I would use to describe most of his work.

I really enjoyed this historical novel on the The Great Gold Robbery (not the train robbery a century later that made Ronnie Briggs famous) when on he night of 15 May 1855 gold sent from London Bridge station for Paris was swapped en route for lead. Crichton's research in the underworld economy and slang of the time make this evocative and engrossing. The (literal) years of preparation and execution make for compelling reading while it does seem that the aftermath and trials are given short shrift Now I have to see the movie based on the book.

In 1855 a gang of thieves carried out an elaborate scheme to rob a train of the gold bullion scheduled to serve as payroll for the soldiers fighting in the Crimean War. “The Victorians always referred to this crime in capital letters, as The Great Train Robbery.” This is Crichton’s fictionalized novel based on what is known of the truth, with a good deal of conjecture and embellishment.

What a rollicking good story! I was entertained from beginning to end. Crichton starts out with a recitation of the facts and sprinkles the text with details of Victorian life and the specifics which came to light during the trial. But the way he imagines the lead characters, especially Edward Pierce (the gang leader), is what really breathes life show more into the story.

I first read this back in 1975 when it was a new release. In fact, I have a book-club edition I purchased at the time. It’s always been one of my favorite books by Crichton and I’ve recommended it to people over the years as a quick, fun adventure / crime story.

The book was adapted to film in 1978, starring Sean Connery as Edward Pierce, and Donald Sutherland as his accomplice Robert Agar. It’s a pretty faithful adaptation, and well worth watching.

NOTE: This review was written on my second (or third) reading, August 2015. One of my book clubs chose it for discussion in June 2019, so I’ve re-read it yet again. And I still love it! show less

A perfectly fine thriller that's clearly written to make you sympathize with the criminals. Nothing wrong with that, but there are a few moments where the tone is odd (the main character has someone killed fairly heartlessly who you were previously encouraged to root for). Worth a read during a global pandemic but their are better heist plots out there.