Journal of the Railway & Canal Historical Society 2018

Volume 39 Part 4

Key file for access to Journal

Home page

No 231 March 2018

Christopher Lewis and Terence Baddeley.  Josiah Clowes, 1735-1794, 'a celebrated engineer'. 202-8.

Tony Sheward. The financial performance of the Big Four. Part 1: the overall picture, 1923-1928. 209-22.
Part 2 of this article will provide a more detailed view of the financial performance of the Big Four in the years 1933-38. Thus, the comments in this section only give part of the picture. The two sections after the Introduction give the backdrop against which the financial performance of the Big Four should be measured. Although the start date for the Big Four's existence was over four years after the end of World War I, the companies were by no means restored to their condition before the War. The government compensation for wartime neglect of repairs and maintenance was only agreed in 1921 and regarded by the railway companies as niggardly. The post-war economic boom and slump had also adversely affected the financial situation of the pre-vesting companies. The Big Four, therefore had much to do to stabilise the situation as well as deal with the problems of amalgamation. Despite the best efforts of Lloyd George's coalition government to improve upon the Victorian legislation on railway rates and charges, the system established under the 1921 Act left the Big Four with considerable difficulties in competing effectively with other forms of transport. Of most significance was the link with standard net revenue in 1913 and the inflexibility of the system for changing rates. As with all UK companies, the Big Four had to operate within the parameters of the UK economy. In general terms the economy showed an improving trend up to 1929, but it needs to be emphasised what a shock the six-month miners' strike and related ten-day general strike caused to the railway industry. The Big Four were hit both as bulk carriers of coal and large users of coal, not to mention the impact of the strikes on their other customers, and of course the ten-day general strike seriously disrupted their business across the board. The Great Depression years 1929-32 saw falling demand on a world-wide basis. The Big Four were particularly affected because the old staple industries of the Victorian period, which were major customers, suffered disproportionately and were slow to recover, if at all. The years of economic recovery 1933-37 provided opportunities for the Big Four to grow, but the downturn and the threat of war in 1938 presented new problems.
The scale of the competition from road transport both in private and public transport over the years 1923-38 is indicated in the analysis by Stone and Rowe. Whilst this was undoubtedly a serious problem for the Big Four in particular sectors, such as door-to-door transport of non-bulky goods over relatively short distances, the Big Four still in 1938 retained a competitive advantage in several sectors. As the trunk road network was of relatively poor quality, railways were a preferred option for both passengers and freight for journeys over about 100 miles. For heavy and bulky goods, road transport often lacked the equipment to cope. Although the quality of private cars had improved markedly since 1923, there were still limitations, such as the need to decoke the engine of most cars after 1,000 or so miles.
The figures for gross receipts, net revenue and dividends show that for the most part, despite the shock in 1926, the Big Four had maintained their financial performance in the period to 1929. It also needs to be borne in mind that this was the period during which they had made good wartime depredation and reorganised themselves following the amalgamation. The Great Depression years were undoubtedly difficult for the Big Four, but they remained profitable at the net revenue level, although the LMSR and the LNER had to cease payment of dividends for a few years. By 1937 there had been a reasonable recovery, although not to the level of 1929.
In 1938 the Big Four were still well-regarded members of the London Stock Exchange. The LMSR was in fact one of the giants of the Exchange on a par with the majors in other sectors, such as lCI. They were still organisations generating large amounts of cash and had regularly paid their debenture holders, even if their shareholders had fared less well.

Pat Jones. The cast iron girder bridge carrying the Great North Road over Milby Cut, Boroughbridge, Yorkshire. 223-31.

Michael Quick. Frederick Manning: a notorious Great Western criminal. 232-4.
Great Western Railway guard at Taunton . Born on 20 March 1820 and trained at Taunton as a coach painter. During his period as a guard he was twice in trouble: on 10 September 1847 he left a horse behind at Bristol which should have gone to London and a couple of months later for allowing a passenger to travel in a second-class carriage with a third-class ticket. Manning was dismissed in 1848 for not apprehending robbers when thefts had taken place on trains on which he was in charge. On leaving the railway he became proprietor of the White Hart Hotel in Taunton with his wife Maria de Roux/Raux.

R.F. Hartley. S.W.A. Newton and the building of the Great Central Railway. 235-47.
Born in Leicester in 1875; died in Beverley in 1960. Photographer and son of Alfred Newton who owned a photographic business. Photographed work on the construction of the London Extension of the Great Central Railway and he estimated that he had taken 3000 photographs of it. About 2250 of his photographs are housed in the Leicestershire Record Office.  Includes a portrait of Sydney Newton

The Great Central in the 1930s. 248

Reg Harman. Railway war service badges of World War 1. 249

Correspondence . 250

Reviews 252

George Carr Glyn: railway man and banker. David Hodgkins. xii, 486pp, 60 illustrations on 32 plates, 7 maps, softback, Wolffe Press Reviewed by Kevin Jones. 253
Glyn, as ennobled as Lord Wolverton, received a fulsome obituary from an unexpected source, namely Edward Watkin. The following brief extract comes from near the end of this lengthy tome: 'When the history ofrailways comes to be written the name of Lord Wolverton will stand out as conspicuously on the page as, or more so, than that of Stephenson or any of the other pioneers of our noble industry. Lord Wolverton brought to bear upon its initiation and progress that which Stephenson never could have accomplished. '
Glyn was a private banker throughout his life and, like most such individuals, was the product of a banking family whose roots were in the Welsh aristocracy, but by George Carr's time were mainly in London. For a time he took an interest in London docks, notably in St Katharine's, then in the London & Birmingham Railway which of course was a huge undertaking. This interest dominated his thinking and led him to adopt a monopolist policy: intriguingly Cassen's work on counterfactual railways is cited in defence of the subject's attitudes, most notably to establish a link with Peterborough. The 'battles' with other companies, especially the Great Western, and the significance of rapid access to Dublin are recorded at length. GIyn's also financed other railways, many of which, but not all became part of the LNWR.
This is a book of very considerable scholarship, manifested in the extensive bibliography and in the multitude of footnote references, but its structure makes assimilation difficult. Thus most of the bank's overseas activities, notably those in Canada, are treated together towards the end of the book, but they had emerged far earlier, indeed prior to the L&BR. Thus there is some repetition and the prime subject's basic humanity fails to materialise. Understandably abbreviations are sometimes used, but TVR for the Trent Valley Railway causes one to pause and think Taff Vale. Chapter sub-headings would have greatly eased the reader's task. It lacks the clarity of the late Peter Braine's The Railway Moon which received a very warm welcome in this journal from Terry Gourvish. In fact Braine states very clearly that Glyn 'had early appreciated the importance of railways and took the lead in backing railway development'. The financing of the London & Birmingham Railway by a private bank must have been awesome: perhaps we should envisage the Branson or O'Leary HS2 to get some feel of the scale and risk. It is also strange that Glyn's had not ventured into financing canals but only London docks, although the risk was offset to a great extent by the infusion of Liverpool capital where railways were truly born. It should also be noted that Glyn established the style of management, especially during his period as Chairman of the London &-Birmingham, which led to the formation of the LNWR. Another notable innovation was the creation of the Railway Clearing House. An Appendix records Glyn 's liabilities and assets. There is an extensive bibliography plus footnote references on most pages and a better than average index.

The early railways of Manchester. Anthony Dawson. 96pp, 58 photographs (40 colour), 20 illustrations and maps, paperback, Stroud :Amberley Publishing, Reviewed by Gerald Leach. 253-4
The opening chapter describes how in the late eighteenth century the growth and expansion of the local cotton industry led Manchester to develop and become a large industrial town. It already had the advantage of a transport infrastructure that contained a network of short and long distance canals and following the opening of the Liverpool & Manchester Railway in September 1830 industrial growth accelerated, which eventually resulted in Manchester becoming Britain's first industrial city. The immediate success of the Liverpool & Manchester Railway acted as a catalyst for investors and businessmen to promote other railways that would Iink Manchester with Leeds, Birmingham, Sheffield and eventually London. Subsequent chapters provide a history of three other early railways that were centred on Manchester, namely the Manchester, Bolton & Bury in 1838, the Manchester & Leeds in 1840 and the Manchester & Birmingham in 1842. A line map for each is included. The narrative history of each company records the building and opening of their lines, descriptions of terminal stations, early locomotives and passenger rolling stock. The final chapter summarizes how Manchester's early raiIways quickly amalgamated with their local competitors, eventually leading to major consolidations when they were subsumed within the Lancashire &Yorkshire Railway in 1847 or the London & North Western Railway in 1846. The history has been well researched mainly from archive material lodged in Manchester's Museum of Science and Technology and extracts taken from contemporary newspapers of the time. The generous selection of illustrations and old postcards are from the author's collection and together with the photographs, mainly taken by the author, all combine to provide a good pictorial content which is unique, interesting and informative. A bibliography is included. There is no index and no I ists of source references, except for those referring to the newspaper extracts contained within the text. This compact book provides an interesting and easy read and is useful for the railway historian in providing some new information relating to Manchester's early railways.

No 232 July 2018

David Slater. The Corn Brook feeder of the Leominster Canal: evidence for its existence and its rare sump pound function. 266-77.

Tony Sheward. The financial performance of the Big Four. Part 2: From depression to the threat of war, 1933-1038. 278-91.

Alan M. Levitt.  A canal as the voice of a major American political movement. 291-3.

Stephen Rowson. Low Water Pier 1870-c1890 : an overlooked railway station at Cardiff. 293-305.

Paul Reynolds. An early toy train in Dombey and Son. 306-7.

Driver Wallace Oakes. 307
Driver Oakes awarded posthumous George Cross for bringing Britannia locomotive to a halt following a massive blowback near Winsford on 5 June 1965. This brave man had an unmarked grave until a headstone was erected at St. Matthew's church Haslington in 2018.

Correspondence. 308

New directipns in waterways history. Alan Richardson

Josiah Clowes and the Shrewsbury Canal. Peter Brown

Reviews. 312 -

Cambridge Station: its development & operation as a rail centre. Rob Shorland-Ball. Barnsley: Pen & Sword Transport, 2017. 180pp. Reviewed by Philip Scowcroft.
"A well-written book, spicced by the author's often humorous recollections of his working as a goods porter in vacations 1958-65..."

Railway renaissance. Gareth David. Barnsley: Pen & Sword Transport, 2017. 330pp. 192 illustrations. Reviewed by Graham Bird.
All re-openings and new lines opened 'since Beeching'.  Exclusions are heritage railways, and a few lines re-opened and later closed, such as Sinfin and London Underground lines other than CrossRail alias the Elizabeth Line (still time for it to change its name yet again).

The Hixon Railway Disaster: the inside story. Richard Westwood. Barnsley: Pen & Sword Transport, 2017. xii, 120pp. Reviewed by Grahame Boyes 
Building on well-established experience in France and the Netherlands, unmanned Automatic Half Barrier (AHB) level crossings were introduced experimentally on British Railways from 1961 and in increasing numbers from 1965. On 6 January 1968 a Manchester-Euston express travelling at 75 mph ran into a 120-ton electrical transformer on a low-loading trailer which was moving cautiously across one of the new crossings at Hixon, Staffordshire. Eight passengers and three train crew were killed and 45 injured, six seriously. Because the Railway Inspectorate had been closely involved in specifying the requirements to be incorporated in the new crossings and in inspecting and approving each new installation, it was decided that the accident inquiry should be held before a judge and the terms of the Inquiry were extended to inquire generally into the safety of AHBs.
The origin of the accident was the failure by the Ministry of Transport and BR to communicate the safety procedures effectively to heavy-haulage operators and to the police. The report of the public inquiry found it 'astonishing that, though so many talented and thoughtful men had the full facts in their minds, the essence of the matter did not occur to any of them' . An important contributory factor was the poor design and location of the warning signs for road users.
This book is not a straightforward historical description and analysis of the events surrounding one of the most significant railway accidents of the British Railways era. The author has instead produced a sensational volume claiming gross negligence and withholding of information by officers of the Ministry of Transport and Railway Inspectorate and a 'turf war' with BR. However, it is clear that the author does not understand that, unlike today, there was a clear separation of powers between government and the statutory corporations, with strict limits on the extent to which the Minister of Transport and his department could interfere in the British Railways Board's responsibility for managing the railways. BR would have been responsible for planning, design and installation of the new crossings, taking account of the Inspectorate's published list of 'requirements' that would have to be satisfied before each AHB could be passed for opening. Both had equal responsibility to ensure that the inherent risks were 'as low as reasonably practical' (to use a later definition of safety management). It is quite wrong to suggest that Colonel W P Reed, one ofthe inspectors, was in 'operational charge' (p 1), 'day-to-day charge' (p 3) or 'overall charge' (p 5) of the introduction of AHBs, with the implication that BR was somehow absolved. Much is made of Colonel Reed's decision not to make it a requirement for a telephone to be provided at all AHBs. The author interprets this as a direction to BR not to provide telephones; in fact BR exercised its freedom of decision in order to provide telephones at all new AHBs from the beginning of 1966 and commissioned a vandal-resistant design. In any case telephones were provided from the start at Hixon, so this was not a factor in the accident. Nevertheless, this seems to have been the starting point for the author's decision to cast Reed as the villain of the piece.
The author concludes that the deficient warning signs were 'the single most important causal factor' and that, if the inquiry had done its job properly, it would have found that the wording of the signs, suggested by Reed, was 'the essential causal element in the chain of events' (p 12). The author deserves credit for the time he has spent in reading through the voluminous records, but his interpretations of the evidence are suspect; they certainly fail to consider how the circumstances of fifty years ago differed from those today.

The Tavistock Canal: its history and archaeology. Robert Waterhouse. Camborne: Trevithick Society, 2017, 536pp. Reviewed by Peter Brown.

Joseph Locke: civil engineer and railway builder, 1805-1860. Anthony Burton. Barnsley: Pen & Sword Transport, 2017. 180pp, 31 illustrations, hardback,Reviewed by Peter Brown. 317
Joseph Locke is less well known than Robert Stephenson or Isambard Brunel, the other great ngineers who oversaw the construction of much of Britairi's railways from the 1830s to the 1850s, robably because his works were less visibly spectacular. Locke's works fitted with the landscape. He tried to avoid tunnels, even when crossing mountainous areas such as the Lake District and Southern Scotland; this meant steeper gradients but he was more confident than others that locomotives would progressively improve to cope with these. He believed in detailed specifications for his works, well communicated and closely monitored. Locke had a deserved reputation for avoiding unnecessary cost, delivering projects which rarely exceeded their original budget — issues of importance to investors at the time but not to posterity.
But Locke's unassuming competence is a problem for a biographer: no major catastrophes, no real controversies. or has much personal material survived to reveal the man behind his achievements: no diaries, few letters. The author appears to have relied on secondary sources (no references are given), hence this new biography contains no surprises. Locke's sometimes fraught relationship with George Stephenson is particularly well covered, and his works in France, Spain and Holland are given deserved attention. Owners of N.W Webster's Joseph Locke: railway revolutionary (1970) need not buy this new book, but anyone else wanting a biography of Locke will find it a commendably clearly written outline of his life and works.

The locomotive pioneers: early steam locomotive development 1801-1851. Anthony Burton. Barnsley: Pen & Sword Transport, 2017. 192pp, 150 illustrations (20 colour), hardback, Reviewed by Victoria Owens. 317
In his preface Anthony Burton relates how making programmes about early locomotives for the BBC honed his appreciation of the challenges which their engineers confronted. His study of locomotive design between 1801I and 1851 — from Richard Trevithick's experimental hill-climb near Camborne to the Great Exhibition's celebration of railway technology — combines technical insight with warm- hearted zeaI.
In the context of the locomotive's British evolution, Burton shows a refreshing readiness to bring his experience — be it frustration with the accident-prone replica NoveLty at the 150th anniversary re-enactment of the Rainhill trials or grasp of the procedure for altering the valve gear - to bear on his subject-matter. Viewing the new technology in its international context, he details the near-simultaneous development by Marc Seguin and Robert Stephenson of multi-tubular boilers —the one for use in the locomotives of the Saint-Etienne & Lyon Railway, and the other for Rocket — and recounts the struggle that New Jersey man John Stevens had when he initially sought to promote the railway idea in America.
The book includes a glossary of technical terms, index and very brief bibliography. Despite frequent quotation from nineteenth-century material, it supplies no references. The adventures of Timothy Hackworth's 16-year-old son John, who escorted a Shildon-built locomotive destined for the Tsarskoye Selo Railway across Russia before witnessing its ceremonial consecration in St Petersburg, assuredly deserve to be better known. It is one instance among many where a footnote giving bibliographic details of the information's source would have been welcome.

'An immense and exceedingly commodious goods station ': the archaeology and history of the Great Northern Railway's goods yard at King's Cross, 1849 to present day. Rebecca Haslam and Guy Thompson. Pre-Construct, 2016. xxxii, 356pp, A4, 99 photos, 7 maps, 155 plans & drawings, hardback, Reviewed by Grahame Boyes
This immense and exceedingly thorough study by the archaeology consultants to the King's Cross Central redevelopment project far exceeds all previous records for the number of words and illustrations devoted to a single feature of the railway infrastructure - the King's Cross granary, goods shed and related buildings, extending over less than twenty acres. The buildings in this complex largely survive, so the archaeological investigation comprised both building analysis and below-ground excavations. Additionally the research extended to the railway company records at The National Archives, enabling the accurate dating ofthe various features of the site and the buildings. The main text comprises eleven chronological chapters, with a chapter devoted to each period of expansion and adaptation, the wartime and inter-war austerity years, and the slow decline from the 1950s. Each is illustrated with a comprehensive set of scaled coloured plans and elevations, supplemented by many historical and modern photographs. At the end of each chapter is a synopsis which relates the evidence that has been gathered to the commercial, competitive, government and financial influences and pressures upon the railway company, and discusses how effectively it responded to them.
Whereas these chapters might be likened to a series of horizontal layers, each corresponding to a period of time, the concluding chapter takes the form of a series of vertical excavations which look at how the handling of each of the main classes of traffic - coal, agricultural produce, fish, bricks and stone, and general merchandise - changed over time. It also compares King's Cross goods station to its two major rivals - Camden (L@NWR) and Somers Town (Midland Railway).
Interspersed between these chapters are articles about particular aspects of the work undertaken at the depot, its traffics and some of its features. They include one by our member, Tim Smith, who provided specialist advice on the remains of the high-pressure hydraulic systems that powered sack hoists, cranes and shunting capstans; another gives a detailed classification of the bricks used at the site. All this and more have been brought together in an impressive volume at a very reasonable price.

Edwardian railways in postcards. John Hannavy . Wellington (Somerset):  PiXZ Books, 2017, 144pp, 280 cards illustrated (many tinted), hardback, Reviewed by Phllip Scowcroft
In the Edwardian era (1901-15) annual postcard sales probably exceeded 500 million. Many featured aspects of railways, then at the height oftheir public impact. This book has a general introduction followed by regional sections and gives a rounded picture of the subject: the illustrations, fully captioned, are not confined to locomotives and roll ing stock but include stations - even quite obscure country ones - road feeder vehicles, railway ships, accidents (including Quintinshill) and even a few saucy ones. Useful for dipping into - the index helps in this.

Cover images:

Front: 'Miss Tox pays a visit to the Toodle family' (an illustration by Phiz from

Dombey and Son) (see p 306).

Back: Tavistock Canal wharf, 1905 (upper); GWR 7333 at Venn Cross on the

Taunton-Barnstaple line, 1961 (lower). From books reviewed on pp 314 and

323 respectively.

No 233 November 2018 (Volume 39 Part 6)

Rowan Patel.  The early development of the Outram-pattern plateway 1793–1796. 326-37.
In association with the Cromford Canal the Peak Forest Railway at Butterley in Derbyshire. "The stone sleeper is now as deeply associated with Outram’s name as the pattern of plate rail which he developed. His first use of stone blocks must have been on the Peak Forest line, excepting any experimentation conducted beforehand. The first blocks were probably laid on this six-mile route late in 1795, and the railway opened in August 1796.49 From this point onwards, stone sleepers became standard practice for heavy-duty railways. Outram was obviously impressed by them, for he always promoted their use over other forms of sleeper subsequently. The form of railway illustrated by the Peak Forest line was the result of some three and a half years of experimentation and development by Outram. He would continue to refine his style of plateway while conducting other work in the 1790s and up to his death in 1805. However, by the end of 1796 the typical Outram-pattern plateway already existed in a form which would go on to conquer many corners of the country. The remains of these historic lines are today perhaps Outram’s most famous legacy".

David Slater. The Right Honourable Thomas Harley of Berrington Hall: the driving force behind the Leominster Canal. 337-45.

Robert Humm. FC Santiago & Valparaiso no 23 and the Leith Engine Works. 346-50
The works official locomotive photograph depicted here (Fig 1) emerged in 2015 during the great clearout at Station House. I have no idea how long I have had it — perhaps twenty or thirty years — or where it came from. So thick was the layer of grime on the glass that it was almost thrown out with a mountain of other junk. I am glad I relented as it proves, after cleaning, to be something of a landmark.
No 23 was the first of a class of twelve 5 ft 6 ins gauge 4–4–0s built by Hawthorns & Co for the Ferrocarril [FC] Santiago & Valparaiso of Chile. Construction of this privately promoted line, 187 km from the country’s principal port to its capital, was commenced in 1852. Progress was slow and work was abandoned between 1857 and 1861. In the latter year it was taken in hand by the American entrepreneur and engineer Henry Meiggs who got the line finished and opened by 1863. The FCSV became part of the State Railway (EFE) in 1884. The earliest locomotives were six passenger and four goods 0–4–2s built by Hawthorns of Leith in 1853–56. They were followed by three classes from Slaughter Gruning: three 4–6–0s, three outside cylinder 4–4–0s and five 0–4–2s, delivered between 1863 and 1866. These were subsequently designated the 1st to 5th classes. The first two of the Hawthorn ‘6th class’, the subject of our photograph, were delivered in 1868, a further eight in 1869, and the final two in 1870. The details are as follows.
No Name Works no
23 Llai Llai 386
24 Maquis 400
25 Vichiculen 388
26 Rabuco 389
27 Aranda 390
28 Limache 391
29 Viña del Mar 395
30 Quilpue 396
31 Peña Blanca 397
32 La Calera 398
33 Ocoa 399
34 Montenegro 387
Most were named after towns on the line of route. An interesting feature is that driving wheel diameter was variously 54 inches (1372 mm), 60 inches (1524 mm) and 66 inches (1676 mm) and wheel sets appear to have been changed regularly between members of the class depending upon the type of duty upon which they were employed. Cylinder diameter was 16½ inches by 24 inches (419 x 609 mm). No other dimensions have survived. As was the custom in those days, the locomotives were shipped in a disassembled state, two at a time, and reassembled at Valparaiso. The long sea voyage, possibly in a sailing ship, took perhaps three or four months. The class was highly thought of and most lasted for some fifty years. Soon after the first two were put into traffic the following statement was made by the Ministry of the Interior in its annual report:
Llai Llai and Maquis have arrived during this semester and one of them (Llai Llai) has now been in use for some days. On this topic I am pleased to inform you that these machines fulfil all the requirements of our line. The craftsmanship and the materials of which they have been manufactured is of the best quality, and the details of the boilers and motion are of such a nature that I believe will prevent future accidents through breakdowns, and the resulting delay. Recently have arrived the second series of two locomotives, Vichiculen and Rabuco, identical to the previous ones and very soon their assembly will get under way.
Despite this glowing report the 6th class were the last Hawthorn locomotives to be delivered to Chile. Subsequent locomotives were built by Avonside or in the company’s own Valparaiso shops, the latter in one or two cases utilising Hawthorns’ spare parts. Most of the class appear to have been reboilered during the 1880s, and some received new cylinder blocks and tenders. No 30 was reported to have amassed 70,000 km in service during 1896. Withdrawals commenced with no 30 in 1914 and several including Llai Llai went in 1918. The last few were withdrawn in 1921–23. Fifty years’ service was good going by any account.
Hawthorn locomotives were distinguished by an elaborate works plate, as carried on the cab side of Llai Llai, consisting of a spear streaming a pennant with the company’s name displayed on it.
Hawthorns & Co
The Leith Engine Works was established at Great Junction Street, Leith, in 1846 by the well known Newcastle locomotive builders R & W Hawthorn. Leith is the ancient seaport of Edinburgh and even after the 19th-century enclosed docks were built, the Water of Leith (the principal river running through the town) was busy with the smaller type of sea-going vessels. At that time there was no direct rail link between Newcastle and Edinburgh and the chief function of the works was to assemble Newcastlebuilt locomotives for the Scottish railways. After the completion in 1850 of the final rail link, the Royal Border Bridge, R & W Hawthorn had no further use for the Leith works and they were sold to new owners who traded as Hawthorns & Co.
Knowledge of the Leith firm is fairly sparse. James W Lowe in the exhaustive British Steam Locomotive Builders (1975) notes that company records and locomotive lists are virtually non-existent but estimates that about 425 locomotives were built up to 1871. They continued to build after that, though latterly business was largely rebuilding and repair. Most new output was for Scottish railways and industry, one distinctive product being a design of 0–4–0 and 0–6–0 well tank with outside Stephenson valve-gear. Locomotives delivered abroad included some for railways in Germany, India, South Africa, and, as we have seen, Chile.
Location of Hawthorns’ Leith Engine Works is clearly identified as such on the 1:1056 Ordnance Survey map of ‘Edinburgh and Environs’ surveyed in 1852 (Fig 2 on previous page). It was on an approximately triangular plot of land having its apex on Great Junction Street (nos 204–208), the main road running from the centre of Leith towards Granton. The southern boundary was a narrow thoroughfare called Mill Road. The north boundary was delineated by the Water of Leith, where there was a wharf for inward raw materials and the export of finished locomotives. The boiler, forge and erecting shops are shown on the northern part of the site abutting Great Junction Street and there were further buildings facing Mill Lane. Although a small internal rail system is shown on the map there is no evidence of an external rail connection at that time. The works were only a few hundred yards from North Leith goods yard and it is possible that the relatively small locomotives of the day were trolleyed through the streets behind teams of horses.
Recently I had a brief opportunity to view what remains of the works (Fig 3). There is not much to be seen on the river frontage, which is now covered by dense tree growth. The main workshops must have been cleared by the 1940s and a building of vaguely art deco appearance occupies the Great Junction Street frontage. But the two-storey range along Mill Lane still survives, occupied at the west end by a hostelry called Gladstone’s Bar. When John R Hume photographed it in 1970 (Fig 4) the entire building was still in industrial use (a wooden extension at the east end was improbably emblazoned ‘The Eldorado Stadium Ballroom’). Hume thought that this was originally the Hawthorns’ machine shop. One might speculate further that the upper floor was occupied by the drawing or administrative offices. The place of Llai Llai in railway history The inside cylinder four-coupled tender locomotive with leading bogie was the most distinctive passenger type on British railways for fifty years from the 1870s until superseded by the 4–6–0. General construction did not cease until the last of the 2P Class of the LMS was delivered in 1932. Last of all, and I think last in the world, were the five U Class built in 1948 by Beyer Peacock for the Great Northern Railway of Ireland. Thousands of 4–4–0s were built for every large and many smaller companies, while the Great North of Scotland Railway used nothing else except for shunting and its small Aberdeen suburban traffic. Respected companies like the Midland and the South Eastern &Chatham never acquired anything larger for their express passenger traffic. Many more 4–4–0s were built for railways abroad, as diverse as the Dutch Railways, Egyptian State Railways and the North Western Railway of India.
These 4–4–0s were perfectly suited to British conditions where relatively easily graded main lines and light wooden carriages were the order of the day. Mostly they ran steadily and freely and were powerful for their size. When coaches became heavier and formations longer they could be double headed without the necessity of replacing numerous turntables required for longer locomotives. The type was also capable of considerable enlargement. Locomotive engineers knew where they were with a 4–4–0.
Although the first outside cylinder 4–4–0s (Lowther and Brougham) appeared on the Stockton &Darlington Railway as early as 1860, the first inside-cylinder, inside-frame, variant for a British company was a pair built by Thomas Wheatley for the North British Railway in 1871, numbers 224 and 264 (Fig 5). That was four years after Llai Llai was completed and the writer can discover no earlier example than the Chilean locomotives built anywhere in Great Britain. (I exclude from this statement the broad gauge Great Western Waverley class of 1855 in which the two leading axles were rigid in the main sandwich frames.) The classic 4–4–0 was developed by Wheatley’s successor Dugald Drummond on the NBR, the Caledonian and later the London &South Western. So there is little doubt that Llai Llai stands at the head of a distinguished Scottish family tree. There might be another connexion between Wheatley and Llai Llai. Whilst the principal NBR works was the former Edinburgh &Glasgow Railway establishment at Cowlairs, Glasgow, Wheatley was also responsible for the original NBR works at St Margarets, Edinburgh. Now, St Margarets was no more than three-quarters of a mile from Leith. Might Wheatley have been on good terms with the Hawthorn proprietors and decided something on the lines of Llai Llai could be an ideal replacement for the miscellaneous collection of 2–2–2s and 2–4–0s that he had inherited? Take away the cowcatcher, the huge headlamp and the all-weather cab (and no self-respecting 1860s Scotch driver would be seen dead in something as effete as that) and 224 looks rather similar, even down to the stove pipe chimney.

Illustrations: Figure 1. FC Santiago & Valparaiso no 23, Llai Llai. [Robert Humm collection]
Figure 2. Leith Engine Works shown on an extract from the Ordnance Survey 1:1056 map of Edinburgh and its Environs’, sheet 12, surveyed in 1852. [Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland]
Figure 3. The surviving part of Leith Engine Works in Mill Lane. [Robert Humm, 19 May 2017]
Figure 4. Leith Engine Works, nos 1–3 Mill Lane, showing the Mill Lane frontage of the works from the south-east. The two-storeyed building probably housed the light machine shops. [© HES.Reproduced courtesy of J R Hume. SC 784513]
Figure 5. North British Railway no 224, the locomotive that went down with the Tay Bridge in 1879.[Robert Humm collection]

Michael Aufrere Williams.The costs of working a failing branch line: a financial study of the Whitby–Loftus line, 1910–1933. 351-
Increased wages (over the 27-year period under discussion) did, of course, account for some of the loss but, as has been noted in earlier chapters, it was the competition from the motor bus, its regularity and convenience, which caused the decline of passenger numbers and the concomitant losses. Thus Irving’s assessment of the line, as a ‘financial disaster of some magnitude’ which he applied to its earliest days, could nevertheless be said to be valid for most of its existence. Even in the immediate years before the First World War, it barely made an operating profit and, although there were one or two good years at the beginning of the 1920s, it soon lapsed into loss. The question then may be asked why the line was not closed earlier. Perhaps the key to answering this question lies in the numbers of tickets collected at each station. As noted above, these were nearly always greater than the number issued, and thus the idea of the railway providing urban as well as rural mobility may be seen to have some validity. No doubt it was only considerable cross-subsidisation that enabled such a loss-making line to continue to run until May 1958. Its value as a provider of transport to the seaside for those living in urban environments was high, even though that value could only be said to have any importance in the short summer season. Even so, this utility was fast diminishing in the 1950s. Bradshaw’s Guide for 14 June–4 July 1954 (but with the timetable running through to 11 September) shows 10 trains in each direction on weekdays and six on Sundays.35 The final timetable, however, for the winter of 1957–58 shows only three trains each way (with a Saturdays only evening service from Middlesbrough to Staithes). This latter timetabling was far more representative of the line in its latter days than the relatively frenetic summer service.
Official reasons for closing the line
In April 1956 British Railways announced their intention of converting to diesel traction all the lines running into Whitby, except that along the coast to Middlesbrough via Loftus. This was followed 18 months later in September 1957 by a proposal to withdraw all services and to close the Loftus–Whitby (West Cliff) section completely. Both Loftus and Whitby (West Cliff) stations would remain open. British Railways argued that a net annual saving of £10,950 could be expected and also that an expenditure of £57,000 on structural maintenance over the next five years could be avoided.36 This ‘structural maintenance’ was for the tunnels between Kettleness and Sandsend and the Staithes, Sandsend, Eastrow, Newholm, and Upgang viaducts. The main problem of the line, that of traversing the section between Sandsend and Kettleness, which had caused such difficulties and expense during its construction, was to prove its downfall. Photographs taken at the time show the interim, and surely temporary, maintenance which had been given to the western portal of Sandsend (Deepgrove) tunnel. Such photographs indicate the British Railways’ assessment of the need for expensive structural maintenance was justified.
The figures given by British Railways leave no doubt that there was a very large gap between operating expenses and receipts on the section between Loftus and West Cliff. The basic costs, analysed earlier in the chapter for the years 1910, 1920, and 1933 were exacerbated, by 1956, by falling revenue and higher wages, even though, out of the very short season, the number of trains on the line was minimal. The average passenger traffic at the four stations to be closed (Grinkle had closed in 1939, almost certainly because of the drastic fall in station receipts) is shown in Table 15.37

David Jones. Nineteenth- and twentieth-century gazetteers of the inland waterways of Britain, 1816–1975: with particular reference to the Stafford Branch Canal / River Sow Navigation. 362-7.

Terry Jenkins. James Garrard – goldsmith and railwayman. 368-72
To many people the name ‘Garrard’ immediately brings to mind the name of the former Crown Jewellers: R & S Garrard. Robert (b 1793) and Sebastian (b 1798) Garrard were appointed Crown Jewellers to Queen Victoria in 1843 and the company continued to hold the royal warrant until 2007. The family name still lives on through the Regent Street shop in London. Originally a third brother was involved in the business. He was James Garrard (b 1795) and, after the death of their father in 1818, the three brothers initially traded as R J & S Garrard. The trio were appointed ‘Goldsmiths, Silversmiths and Jewellers’ to George IV on 5 April 1820, shortly after he came to the throne, and were re-appointed, simply as ‘Goldsmiths’, to William IV on 16 August 1830 after he succeeded his brother and became King.
However in 1835, for some unknown reason, James Garrard left the business, and Robert and Sebastian thenceforth continued alone. James did not sever all connections with the goldsmith’s trade, but his interests developed into an administrative and regulatory role. He became an active member of the Goldsmiths’ Company and served twice as Prime Warden. He was involved, as senior officer of the Company, in arrangements for the Great Exhibition of 1851 and was a juror in the class devoted to precious metals and jewellery. All of this work was unpaid and I was therefore curious to discover how he earned a living. In 1832 he had bought a large estate in rural Middlesex called Pinner Place, but he cannot have had sufficient capital to live the life of a country squire on his private means for long and he must have found some other form of employment.
After various failed business ventures, the 1861 census shows James’s occupation (somewhat imprecisely!) as ‘railways’.
His involvement with this new form of transport actually started in the boom years around 1845, when railway mania was at its height, and lines were being built all over the UK. His name can be found, for example, as a member of the provisional committee for the proposed Hull, Birmingham & Swansea Junction Railway.This line was never built and Garrard’s initial railway interests turned out to lie not in this country, but in France. In September 1845 he was listed as one of the English Directors of an Anglo-French company involved in the construction of the Paris to Lyon railway.
The procedures that governed the construction of the earliest French railway lines were not the same as those in the UK. In the UK, there was no overall design for the network and many competing companies sought to build lines, which often led to duplication of routes between towns and cities. In France a different procedure was followed. The government designated the routes for the whole country and a series of seven routes, all starting from Paris and radiating out in different directions, was envisaged. There was no provision (in the early days) for any cross-country routes. The French government acquired the land that was needed, and started construction. Before the work was complete companies were invited to bid for the concession to run a particular line. A date for the adjudication of the bids was fixed, and the successful company then owned the concession for a fixed number of years. The price that the company paid was intended to cover the construction costs and reimburse the government’s expenditure, although clearly this could not be accurately calculated while construction was still proceeding. The government then took a percentage of the operating profits when the line opened.
The route from Paris to Lyon was seen as being potentially extremely lucrative and many companies intended to bid for the concession. Several of these were Anglo-French concerns, as the money that needed to be raised was exceedingly large. One such firm was the Compagnie du Sud-Est, and James Garrard was one of its English Directors. The company placed its first advertisements in the British press in September 1845, seeking deposits of £2 per share for the 400,000 shares on offer (Fig 1). Each share would eventually be priced at 500FF (around £20) thus raising £8million for the project. The company was commonly known as the Compagnie Griolet, after its prime mover and principal director in France, Eugene Griolet. This was a convenient format and the newspapers referred to the other rival companies in similar fashion as Compagnie Laffitte, Compagnie Ganneron etc.
As the date for the adjudication drew near in December 1845 it became apparent that none of these individual companies had raised enough money to make a successful bid on their own. And so a period of ‘fusion’ took place. Eleven companies, one of which was the Griolet, eventually amalgamated and on the day were the only bidders. The adjudicator had no option but to grant them the concession. The Griolet company was nearly the smallest in the conglomerate, and was allotted just 27,500 of the 400,000 shares that were issued (6.87 percent).
The shareholders of each individual company therefore did not receive the full entitlement they might have hoped for and many were due a refund on their investments. However, none of the investors should have lost money on the venture if the refunds were properly made.
Construction of the line proved to be more expensive than at first thought. It also took longer than expected and it was not only engineering problems that caused the delay. Social and political factors were involved and had an impact on progress. There was panic throughout Europe in 1847, for example, of an impending famine. The potato famine in Ireland is well-known in this country but there were also poor grain harvests for many years in the 1840s across the whole of Europe. The economies of countries suffered, leading to political turmoil: 1848 was a year of revolutions throughout mainland Europe, and France was no exception. It led, in that year, to the overthrow of the government, and the establishment of the 2nd French Republic under the presidency of Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte. The succeeding years were relatively quiet but, after four years in office Louis-Napoléon staged a coup d’état. He was not permitted to seek re-election as President, and in 1852 he reclaimed the title of Emperor as Napoleon III, thus inaugurating the period now known as the Second Empire.
Although construction continued during this turbulent period, at the end of 1851 only the section of railway from Paris to Chalon-sur-Saône had been completed, and there remained a further 80 miles to finish before the entire route to Lyon could be opened. The 4 km tunnel at Blaisy, north of Dijon, had also delayed progress and eaten up money. A fresh appeal for funds was made in 1852, and a new concession was granted for the unfinished section. This led to disagreements between all the parties involved, and the line did not fully open until 1854.7 Meanwhile, concessions for the remaining sections of the complete route down to Marseille were also negotiated, and the Griolet company was one of those bidding for the Lyon–Avignon section. Once again, there were problems. The political situation and economic uncertainty led the British investors to claim that the costs and predicted income were incorrect, and they sought to renegotiate the contract. Construction stalled, but the investors were confident that the French authorities accepted their arguments. and that a new agreement was imminent. After the coup d’état in 1852, however, the British investors discovered that the new government had arbitrarily awarded the concession to a different (French) consortium. This caused consternation in London, as the original investors had lodged a large sum of ‘caution-money’ with the previous government to show their good faith in honouring the terms and conditions of the contract. A meeting of investors was held in London, and the chairman, David Salomons MP, was deputed to go to Paris and make the French government honour their original contract or, at least, return the caution-money. One can see that Garrard attended this meeting as he seconded the motion authorising Salomons to travel to France.Salomons was unsuccessful. The new National Assembly felt no obligation to honour the agreements made by a previous government. And a direct appeal to Louis-Napoléon also failed. He replied: Sir, – I sent you the official report on the subject of the claim which you have addressed to me in the name of the former English shareholders of certain railway companies. I regret exceedingly that the result is not favourable to their pretensions, for I should much desire to attract English capital to France, and to give you personally a mark of my distinguished sentiments. (Signed) Louis NAPOLEON.
The British investors, with James Garrard amongst them, presumably lost their money.
There is no way of knowing precisely how and why Garrard became involved in the construction of French railways. There were many Anglo-French firms seeking investors, and that alone may have been what attracted him. However, it is also possible that he was persuaded to invest his money in the Compagnie Griolet by Monsieur Gustave Odiot. Gustave Odiot was the foremost French silversmith of his generation. Like Garrard, he came from a family who had worked in precious metals for generations and both his father and grandfather had been distinguished silversmiths in Paris – the Maison Odiot was established there in 1690. It may be that Odiot and Garrard first became acquainted through their mutual activities as gold and silversmiths. However, Odiot was also an investor in French railway companies and was one of the French directors of the Compagnie Griolet.
The friendship between the two men clearly came to extend beyond their professional interests – and one can appreciate this as Gustave Odiot was staying with James Garrard at Pinner Place on census night in 1851, and is listed in the census returns there.
After his experiences in French investments, Garrard limited his railway interests to the UK. Early in 1848 he became a Director of the Reading, Guildford & Reigate Railway Company (Fig 2). The chairman of this company was David Salomons, the same man who had gone to Paris to try and rescue the caution-money from the Lyon-Avignon fiasco. Garrard’s appointment as a director of this crosscountry route presumably grew from their common interests in the affair.
James Garrard then became the prime mover and founding chairman of the Staines, Wokingham & Woking Railway (SWW). It was apparent that a gap in the network existed at the time between Staines and Wokingham. Staines was already linked to London Waterloo, and Wokingham lay on the Reading to Reigate railway just mentioned. Connecting the two towns would enable through trains to run from Waterloo to Reading, thus providing an alternative route to the GWR into Paddington. Parliamentary approval for the line was obtained in 1852 and construction started in 1853. The line passed through Ascot, and was advertised as being a convenient method for race-goers to travel to the course. It might also be worth mentioning that James Garrard’s brother, Robert, had a country estate in Wokingham. The railway could prove a more convenient way for him to travel to London! The route from Staines to Wokingham opened in 1856, but the proposed line from Staines to Woking via Chobham was never built.\
The SWW spawned an offshoot in 1863 with the Sunningdale and Cambridge Town (now Camberley) branch. This left the existing route at Ascot, and travelled south through the afore-mentioned towns to Aldershot and Guildford. James Garrard was the chairman of this company; and he also became involved as a director and chairman of the MidSussex line from Horsham through Billingshurst and Pulborough to Petworth which started construction in 1857.
These railways were never viable as separate entities, and were always intended to be operated as part of a longer route by the larger companies. As such, they lent themselves to acquisition by these companies and, as early as 1860, the London Brighton &South Coast railway was considering purchasing the Mid-Sussex line.15 The SWW was leased to the London &South Western Railway in 1858, and absorbed by them in 1878. The SWW was therefore still an independent company in 1870 and Garrard chaired a meeting of the Directors on 11 October (Fig 3). At the following meeting on 7 November 1870, the Secretary reported that ‘Mr James Garrard died suddenly on the 3rd inst’. There is no further comment about his death, which must have been unexpected, in the Minute Books, or any appreciation of his work for the railway. The lines with which he was involved are all still in operation, although the section of the Mid-Sussex line to Petworth no longer exists. The section from Horsham to Pulborough still remains as part of the route from London to Littlehampton. And the line through Camberley is one I travelled on many times
as a teenager when we lived in the town. I do not know how profitable – or otherwise – Garrard’s railway activities might have been, but in 1855 he found it necessary to mortgage Pinner Place.17 Twelve years later in 1867, at his request, the ownership of the entire estate was transferred to his goldsmith brother, Sebastian.18 The terms of the sale allowed James to continue living in the house until his death and I assume Sebastian Garrard promptly paid off the mortgage.
James Garrard died on 3 November 1870. When probate on his will was granted, his effects were valued at ‘under £1,500’. Not a negligible sum, but much less than the value of the Pinner Place estate. It indicates that he had had monetary problems in the past, and the sale of the estate in 1867 was probably necessary to pay off his debts.
Coincidentally, his brother Sebastian died the following week, on 8 November 1870. The probate indexes show that his effects were valued at ‘under £120,000’. Clearly, being a goldsmith to royalty was far more profitable than running railway companies!
I live in Pinner, and my house stands on land that was formerly part of the Pinner Place estate.

Correspondence. 373

Could this be one of Joseph Boughey’s ‘new directions for waterways history’? Philip Brown
RCHS Journal no 230 (November 2017), pp 142–
Nicholas Hammond writes ‘When the railways continued the tradition of small masonry bridges, they reverted to the segmental [arch] design, this was probably due to their preference for skew bridges. It would have been difficult to design and build a three-centred skew bridge, as the segmental blocks would involve three-dimensional geometry’. It may be a case of the proverbial exception that proves the rule but the engineer W S Moorsom used a three-centred design for the masonry over-bridges on the Southampton & Dorchester Railway, constructed 1845–47. Three of these still survive on the closed section of line between Brockenhurst and Ringwood, including a fine three-arched skew example, the former bridge no 43 (illustrated below). Clearly the contractor S M Peto’s bricklayers were up to the challenge!
Inexplicably, whilst bridges 43 and 44 were of 28 ft span, bridge 62 (Crow Arch) was only 23 feet. This drew comment in Captain Coddington’s inspection report:
Bridges over the Railway: … The span is generally 28 feet, and there are 5 bridges of 26 feet span and 4 of only 23 feet. These latter, though not exactly dangerous, are in my opinion injudiciously narrow, being even of less width than tunnels are ordinarily made where the enormous expense attendant upon their construction induces the smallest convenient opening.
The Southampton & Dorchester was of course built mainly as a single track railway but with provision made for doubling, so the narrow bridges were not an immediate problem. Philip Brown


Nicholas Hammond writes ‘When the railways

Low Water Pier 1870–c1890 : an overlooked

railway station at Cardiff

RCHS Journal no 232 (July 2018), pp 293–305

Stephen Rowson appears to have overlooked two

Andrew Overton

Review : The Hixon Railway Disaster : the

inside story

RCHS Journal no 232 (July 2018), p 313 Richard Westwood

Graham Boyes re sponds

Reviews. 376-

Twenty years under the Channel and beyond? (La Revue d’histoire des chemin de fer combined volumes 48 and 49) — publication director Jean-Louis Rohou. Paris: Association pour l’histoire des chemin de fer, 2018. 518pp, 6 colour photographs, 81 maps, graphs and diagrams, softback, (for access contact reviewer – see note at end of review. Reviewed by William Featherstone, Pages 376-7
The rather jokey cover (the artist describes the symbolism of the various elements at length – the question mark in the title was added after the Brexit vote result) belies the physical and academic weightiness of this tome. At over two kilos the 28 papers printed here, perforce written in different styles and rigour, are crammed with interesting facts and data relating to this mega civil engineering and transport project. This publication marks the conclusion of an international interdisciplinary project that was launched in 2014 at the British Embassy in Paris and encompasses papers from a symposium on ‘Traffic Flows and Regional Economic Impacts’ held in Lille in 2015, another entitled ‘Capital and Governance in Major Infrastructure Projects’ held in London in the same year, and a round table debate in London in 2016. This academic endeavour therefore spans the twentieth anniversary of the opening of the Channel Tunnel and the thirtieth anniversary of its birth by the Treaty of Canterbury.
One thing is quite clear from these papers (those printed are just a selection of those submitted during the project): that economists and political scientists continue to find the ‘Chunnel’ endlessly fascinating, and that there is no shred of consensus as to its impact or financial viability. Before mentioning a few of the contributions, some generalisations may be appropriate. Some of the differences in the conclusions reached by different authors are the result of this being the fruit of such a long programme. The figures in some cases include only 2014, whereas others reach to 2017 (some sadly are obviously a rehash of much earlier papers with the minimum of updating). Dramatic conclusions can follow depending on what is or is not included – is air traffic capital-to-capital or does it include low cost regional (largely fed by second-home ‘Brits’ we are told) and are the figures for the £1 ferry ‘booze cruises’ or not?
One very broad generalisation may be permitted, and one key question quoted. The generalisation is that the tenor and conclusions of the articles written by Belgian and French authors is more positive than those written by British authors – is this our national and natural pessimism coming to the fore, is it continuing angst at the breach of our historic moat, or is it that this country has not grabbed the opportunities provided by the Tunnel as quickly and enthusiastically as our continental neighbours? Judging from much of this volume the last of these is perhaps nearest the mark. The question is posed by Professor Roger Vickerman of the University of Kent in his paper on the wider economic aspects of the Channel Tunnel – ‘the best test is to ask what would have happened if the infrastructure had not been developed’ – and it is clear that sooner or later some form of fixed link would have been necessitated at an even more astronomical cost.
Finally, a brief commentary on some of the more interesting papers published here. In an opening speech Professor Terry Gourvish, author of the official history of the Channel Tunnel build, summarizes the five themes of this programme – transport, geography and economic; financial management of major projects, regional development, migration and frontiers, and international relations (he also remarks that writing the history took longer than building the tunnel).
Professor Jim Cohen’s study of failed high speed rail project in Florida is perhaps somewhat peripheral but Julien Defornoy, of the French Ministry of Transport, provides a very significant and useful summary of 27 worldwide public/private partnership projects since the Channel Tunnel (not itself a PPP, of course). Whilst Roger Vickerman asks if the Channel Tunnel could be delivered today, Patrick Boeuf and Hugh Goldsmith, of the European Investment Bank, give a much more positive reading of the figures, and suggest a return of between 3 percent and 6 percent for the Tunnel in the long term. Their findings are disputed by Anguera Camos in ‘The Channel Tunnel cost-benefit analysis after 20 years of operations’ but it all depends what factors are included or excluded from the calculations; in this instance I would give more credence to the bankers.
The former Chairman and CEO of Eurostar Group, David Azéma, provides some fascinating insights into privately financed infrastructure projects. He concludes that rail projects need to take account of the whole rail delivery infrastructure; that being more complex, cross-border is always more risky; traffic forecasts are often wildly biased; and, ignoring forecasts, one should carry out proper due diligence on how the service will be delivered once the line is open – not forgetting that ‘one never learns from history’.
These papers reveal some clear beneficiaries from the building of the Tunnel. Louis Gilleaux makes clear that it was the catalyst for the modernisation of much of the Belgian railway system and that although it had a major impact on ferry traffic from Belgian ports, Zeebrugge took the opportunity to advance whilst Ostend retreated. Papers on the impact of cross Channel regionalisation and its impact on the Pas de Calais suggest that lack of energy, finance and initiative over the years have resulted in major missed opportunities. In fact there is a clear winner as the title of Etienne Auphan’s paper – ‘Lille: from a dead end to a major crossroads or how to take advantage of a new network’ – makes clear. It also reemphasises how often chance can play a major part in the winners and losers in such projects. There is no doubt that if Pierre Mauroy, former Prime Minister of France, had not been mayor of Lille at the time, the rail links would have avoided the city and it would not have reaped the major benefits that it has.
From the British side, whilst some papers acknowledge the economic impact on the hinterland of HS1 and around the Channel Tunnel, there is some reluctance to see this as an unalloyed benefit. Even if they cannot prove the case, the suspicion remains that these areas have gained at the expense of others and so the net benefit is minimal. Perhaps the most closely argued and researched paper that takes this line is that by John Preston, Professor of Rail Transport at the University of Southampton, whose calculations suggest that the HS1 corridor is outperforming the national average over key economic development metrics but has in turn been outperformed by other corridors radiating from London. He considers that the regeneration benefits envisaged at the genesis of HS1 have not yet occurred.
As already indicated, this review can only give the baldest summary of some of the papers in this fascinating volume. The volume of figures and metrics can be daunting, and, whilst not War and Peace it is a daunting challenge to read from cover to cover but it is certainly a rewarding exercise. For anyone interested in any aspect of the Channel Tunnel, in mega civil engineering project planning, financing, building and service development, and in high speed rail, this is essential reading.
As the Society’s correspondent with our sister organization in France, the AHICF, I receive all their publications. The printed version of the volume under review will not be generally available in the UK. If any readers wish to borrow it I am very happy to forward it to them provided postage is paid in both directions. There is, however, an interesting alternative. The AHICF is proudly advertising that this is their ‘first review in augmented reality’. In order to take advantage of this it is necessary to have a smartphone and scans of the cover, spine and back of the review (which I will happily provide by post or email); one then uses the smartphone to download the ARzone application and scan the covers in. Contact me at 114 Dunkirk Avenue, Desborough, NN14 2PN or

Gilbert Szlumper and Leo Amery of the Southern Railway: the diaries of a General Manager and a Director. John King. Barnsley: Pen & Sword Transport, 2016. 221pp, 40 photographs, hardback, (also available as an e-book). Reviewed by Stephen Rowson. Pages 377-8
Leopold Amery’s private education allowed his lifestyle to be funded by collecting directorships. He admitted to knowing nothing about transport when at the 1932 AGM, despite dissent from many shareholders, he was elected a director of the Southern Railway. Following Chamberlain’s fall, in May 1940 he joined the Churchill war government and so resigned his railway directorship. His autobiography and previous publications of his diaries have largely ignored what contribution he made to the railway but John King here uses what he can of Amery’s meeting appointments to describe, for example, the Southern’s foray into aviation (the Railway Air Services), planning Lullingstone airport, inaugurating a London to Paris train ferry service and the abortive attempt to create a London day trippers’ alternative to Southend at Allhallows-onSea on the Medway. The more informative diaries of Gilbert Szlumper start in 1936 and King combines entries by both men to record the Southern’s continuing electrification programme and their expansion into bus and road haulage services. Unlike Amery, Szlumper was a career railwayman. He had started with the London & South Western Railway in 1902 and, following the grouping, was Assistant General Manager of the Southern Railway from 1925, becoming General Manager on Sir Herbert Walker’s retirement in 1937. This last event relieved the fear that Walker was about to reorganise the Southern’s management structure along the lines of the LMS.
Szlumper’s diaries continue until 1945. By all accounts, including his own, he was well thought of. The War Office recognised the geographically strategic importance of the Southern and invited him to be Director-General of Transportation. From this position he was to supervise and coordinate railway, inland waterway and dock requirements overseas and at home. He organised transport of men and equipment into mainland Europe, dealing with issues as they arose, such as when forces railwaymen should take over from civilian railwaymen. The retreat from Dunkirk made the position redundant and he was moved to the Ministry of Transport as Railway Control Officer. Then from 1942 he was Director General of Supply Services at the Ministry of Supply. Rather than give a transcription of the diary entries with explanatory footnotes, John King has decided to present his own narrative interpretation with only some of the diarists’ words appearing within quotation marks. For the reader who is wishing to get close to these people, this takes some getting used to. Sometimes one can never be sure what has come from the diaries and what King has added from his own knowledge of the events and of the people named. Nevertheless, Szlumper’s candid views on the individuals he worked with are quoted in full: this is a constant theme of Szlumper’s together with his own job security and protecting his income. Throughout the war years he longed to return from civil servants and politicians to his beloved Southern Railway but that never happened. Missenden had taken over from him in 1939 and when the war ended he would not relinquish that position.
John King is light on his assessment of the two diarists’ personalities — the introduction could have summarized more the content of the diaries and what contribution they have made to transport history of these years. The diaries cover many themes but the inadequate index does not acknowledge these. The choice of illustrations is excellent.

A history of the Metropolitan Railway & Metro-land.  Irene Hawkes. Manchester: Crécy Publishing,  2018,  160pp, 189 illustrations (4 colour), 20 maps, 6 tables, hardback, Reviewed by Victoria Owens. page 379
In the 1830s proposals to alleviate London’s acute congestion by constructing a rail system below street level foundered amid householders’ concerns about noise, dirt and subsidence. Irene Hawkes’ history of the Metropolitan Railway opens with an account of solicitor Charles Pearson’s long struggle to convince his fellow Londoners of the case for building an underground railway from Paddington to the heart of the City. Although he never lived to see it, Pearson’s – literally – ground-breaking Metropolitan Railway opened in January 1863.
Part 1 of Hawkes’ book traces its development beyond its underground origins. Intent on making the Metropolitan a main-line concern, railway magnate Edward Watkin aspired to connect it with the Manchester, Sheffield & Lincolnshire line (he was chairman of both companies) in order to open a direct route from northern England to Paris by way of a channel tunnel. The plan evaporated but not before the Metropolitan had advanced into Buckinghamshire, Hertfordshire and Middlesex.
Its masterstroke was to secure power to buy and use land for non-railway purposes, and in the book’s second part, Hawkes relates how it purchased tracts of pasture around London to develop for housing.

‘I know a land where the wild flowers grow, Near, near at hand if by train you go’

– pledged the marketing men, tempting weary citydwellers with the prospect of wholesome country living in what soon became known as ‘Metro-land’. Metropolitan advertisements for half-timbered villas, golf-courses (within easy reach of a Metropolitan station) and hotels serving cream teas nurtured a taste for ‘bracing air and rural delights’ and a favourite destination for early twentieth century school outings and cycling trips was Watkin’s Eiffel-inspired Wembley Tower. Sadly, it was demolished in 1906–7 when it emerged that the foundations were sinking into the London clay.
As a contribution to socio-railway history, this well illustrated book has much merit. Sentences opening ‘As we have already pointed out’ or ‘As we will see in another chapter’ sometimes make for ponderous reading, but its scope and detail are impressive. An appendix lists Metropolitan Railway locomotives; there is an extensive bibliography, copious reference notes and a comprehensive index.

The ups and downs of the Clifton Rocks Railway and the Clifton Spa. Maggie Shapland. Bristol Industrial Archaeology Society on behalf of the Clifton Rocks Railway Trust. 317pp, over 430 illustrations (mostly in colour), hardback, 2017, Reviewed by Peter Brown. page 379
The funicular railway which linked the road by the Avon Gorge to Clifton was unusual: it was in a tunnel and it was four-track. Financed by George Newnes as part of a spa development and engineered by George Croydon Marks, it cost treble its estimate. Apart from on its opening day in 1893, traffic never reached expectations and it closed in 1934. During the Second World War the lower part of the site was occupied by the BBC, the upper parts including a barrage balloon unit and an air-raid shelter. Since 2004 much work has been done to investigate and interpret the remains and to make the site accessible to visitors. About a third of the book is devoted to the history of the railway. This is inevitably limited by the available sources: the construction and opening are related in detail and some interesting maintenance records survived in a supplier’s archive, but a financial analysis and passenger numbers are available only for the period of receivership, 1908–13. The central chapters deal with the spa and with the various wartime uses of the railway tunnel. Readers who are involved in the preserving industrial sites and opening them to the public will find the last two chapters a valuable case study. It may seem churlish to be of the opinion that too much information is given, but press reports are quoted at excessive length and reminiscences take over fifty pages. Tighter editing, selecting the key comments, would have made the book more rewarding to read. And to put the information fully in context, one needs to have attended an open day at the site. Nevertheless, this is a beautifully produced book with an incredibly low price

The early railways of Leeds. Anthony Dawson. Stroud (Glos): Amberley Publishing, 2018. 96pp, 83 illustrations (46 colour), 7 maps & plans, softback, Reviewed by Philip Scowcroft. 380
Leeds has an honoured place in British railway history and this concise, well-written, well-illustrated and relatively inexpensive volume is a first-rate introduction to its earlier history. We start with the Middleton Railway, the first railway built with authority of an Act of Parliament, the first of its kind to employ steam traction and the first standard-gauge line to be preserved.
The Leeds area has other railway ‘firsts’: the first railway viaduct (Flockton, 1757) and the earliest public railway (Lake Lock, near Wakefield). The city was also early in the field with locomotive builders: Fenton, Murray & Wood, Hunslet, and Todd, Kitson & Laird. The book goes on to detail the earlier history of main lines to and from Leeds. The Leeds & Selby, engineered by George Stephenson, came first (in 1834) and with its extension to Hull and the later Manchester & Leeds (to be the germ of the Lancashire & Yorkshire Railway) provided railway connection between England’s east and west coasts. Then the North Midland line (another of George Stephenson’s) came up from the south and provided a link, ultimately, to London – a line in which George Hudson played his part. A final chapter on Leeds stations outlines the main terminals – Wellington, New and Central – with a mention of the surviving Leeds (City).
The author makes generous use of extracts from a variety of local newspapers which both aid readability and provide fresh insights. The illustrations strike a good balance between historic drawings and diagrams and modern photographs of historic sites. There are no footnotes or endnotes and no index – not really to be expected in such a short volume – though there is a short but useful bibliography embracing original and secondary sources. This is a readable introduction to its subject and readers are unlikely to be disappointed by it.

Locomotive Builders of Leeds: E B Wilson and Manning Wardle. Mark Smithers. Barnsley: Pen & Sword Transport, 2018. 199pp, 107 photographs (12 colour), 91 drawings, hardback, Reviewed by Kevin Jones. 380
The Round Foundry, in Leeds, first known as the Railway Foundry had a history back to 1811 when it supplied locomotives to the Middleton Railway and its rack system. This and the involvement of Matthew Murray and John Blenkinsop is covered in Chapter 1 of this book. There was then a lapse until 1831 when the Foundry began to supply locomotives to a growing railway system, including the Liverpool & Manchester and Leeds & Selby: this is covered in the second chapter. Chapter 3 examines the origins of E B Wilson & Co but half the chapter precedes this by outlining the activities of Charles Todd, James Kitson and David Laird (their financial backer). John Gray, the inventor of expansive motion, was indirectly involved as it was applied to locomotives on the Hull &Selby Railway at his behest. Chapters on the Jenny Lind type (a seminal development), Crampton locomotives and the influence of Archibald Sturrock follow. Chapters 7 and 8 mark the end of this activity whilst noting possible future influences on Manning Wardle policy, which forms the subject for the ninth and largest chapter and covers the products of Manning Wardle which were mainly small tank engines for industrial use. The corporate history follows which briefly summaries the demise of the company in 1926. This is a history of locomotive manufacture. Little, if any, is indicated of other foundry activity. The illustrative material has been well chosen and presented but tends not to be linked to the text on the page upon which it is displayed. The index is poor and the meagre bibliography fails to gather many of the textual references to published material. Inexplicably there is no reference to Lowe’s British steam locomotive builders (recently reprinted by the present publisher).

Holding the line: how Britain’s railways were saved. Richard Faulkner and Chris Austin  Manchester Crécy Publishing, 2018, 344pp, 41 illustrations on 24pp, softback, Reviewed by Ray Shill. 385
In this ‘Goodall paperback’ edition of a book first published under the Oxford Publishing imprint in 2012, the authors have brought together a comprehensive account of the history of public railway closures since 1827. In an extensively researched text the authors have comprehensively brought together information from a wide range of sources (including trade union documents) in order to describe all the essential factors in the process and procedure of railway closures through to the present time, as well as briefly recording briefly the recent openings and re-openings in the modern era. It is a book that is a useful source for those interested in following the history of modern railways. The chapters that deal with the closures of lines and stations under the British Transport Commission is of particular use for those times, as is the background to the reshaping of British Railways under Dr Richard Beeching. The complex period that followed occupies more chapters in a style approaching on the definitive that mentions closures, lines saved and the rise of the heritage railway. Notes on rail union involvement, the many government papers including the Blue Paper of 1972, the Orange Paper of 1976 and the White Paper of 1977 also receive detailed consideration. The chilling revelation of how close the railway network came to drastic pruning during the railway strikes of 1982 and the Serpell review that followed is a salutatory warning of how our network might have become under Margaret Thatcher’s government.
Credit is given to the work of the BR Chairman, Peter Parker and the NUR general secretary, Sidney Weighell. The ‘Didcot scandal’ of 1977 is discussed as ‘an example as a disgraceful example of pro-road industrial action on the part of the Transport and General Workers Union’. Trades union involvement, in general, had political consequences, culminating in the privatisation of the network following the sale of assets such as Sealink, British Transport Hotels and British Transport Advertising. Yet new roles for the railways are acknowledged by the authors. Factors such as Community Rail Development and station openings have cemented a stronger base to the network. Yet, the legacy of closures has left many areas for concern such as the absence of strategy for the provision of diversionary routes to aid maintenance work or to provide alternatives to the times of closure through accident. The authors conclude that in all the evidence collected in the book the most relevant observation was the immense danger caused by a concerted attempt to shrink the network and the role it played in meeting Britain’s transport needs. Associated with this interpretation were bad planning, dogmatism, political chicanery, ineptitude and a lack of imagination that characterised mid twentieth-century railway policy.