Despite the evidence of progress wherever one turned, they voiced fears that the beast lurked still at the heart of modern civilisation

From Murder in the First-Class Carriage: The First Victorian Railway Killing by Kate Colquhoun. Page 110.

“If the railway murder recalled the plots of gripping contemporary novels then the papers added their own irresistibly lively coverage designed to boost their circulations by feeding on those widespread anxieties about the dangers of modernity. Despite the evidence of progress wherever one turned, they voiced fears that the beast lurked still at the heart of modern civilisation. While the nation waited to see if Müller would be caught, the perceived dangers of railway travel remained undiminished and passengers continued to wonder indignantly why those in charge were doing nothing about the risks associated with the solitary-cell system of railway travelling. Why, they asked, was the government not turning the excitement of the present moment to practical account? Suggestions for remedies came from every quarter. Murderous assault might be prevented by the introduction of sliding glass windows between the carriages – panes that could be curtained for privacy or drawn back to summon help from the passengers in neighbouring compartments. Alternatively, trellises might replace the panels between compartments, allowing a clear view along the length of the carriage. Evil-intentioned persons would be deterred and timid minds eased by the introduction of bells, whistles, signal-boards or speaking tubes, by external ‘sidewalks’ with handrails, or by the fitting of trapdoors into the roofs of the train. There might be travelling police and separate ladies’ carriages; insurance policies against this new kind of liability might be sold at the ticket offices; it might be expedient to outlaw the barring of windows and the locking of compartment doors between stations.