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London News]
The Victorians, although it would never have been admitted, rather
liked the macabre; writers rarely asked their readers to read between the
lines. If nothing too awful had happened in an accident, the report would
speculate on what could have occurred; in an account of an accident on
the Macduff branch between Auchterless and Fyvie in 1888, which was quite
bad enough with five deaths, the writer for the ILN adds: 'There was a
quantity of gas tar, and other combustible matter, among the contents of
the waggons, and all mixed up with the passenger carriages. If the engine
had fallen with them, it is probable that these inflammable materials would
have taken fire; and the passengers, unable to extricate themselves, would
have been burnt to déath.' The ILN did not entirely dissociate itself
from this ghoulish trait in the human personality but its prose was more
restrained than that of some papers which peddled the sensational. It must
be remembered that loss of human life on the scale of the worst accidents
had been unknown except in time of war; the railway created a potential
for disaster on an unprecedented scale. In our own times, when thousands
die annually on our roads, it is perhaps difficult to realise the impact
such news must have had. Even today, a railway accident, because of its
rarity in comparison with other modes of transport, commands headlines
while only a major pile-up on the roads would receive more than a few lines.
Nonetheless a sizeable
proportion of the entries concerning railways in the ILN was devoted to
accidents, the frequency of which was, not surprisingly, high until the
establishment of interlocked signalling and block or token working on most
lines. Serious investigation into the causes of accidents, and recommendations
to avoid a similar recurrence, were begun as early as 1840 when railway
inspecting officers, appointed by the Board of Trade from the Corps of
Royal Engineers, examined an accident at Howden on the Hull & Selby
Railway. News of their conclusions was then, as now, confined to the more
specialised journals.
[ILN Sept 19 1874] - GREAT RAILWAY DISASTER
AT NORWICH
On the night of Thursday week, it is our painful task to state, one
of the most appalling accidents that ever happened in English railway travelling
occurred on the Great Eastern Railway, between Norwich and Brundall, which
is a station nearly six miles from Norwich. A train carrying mails to Norwich
leaves Great Yarmouth every evening at 8.46, and is joined at Reedham,
twelve miles from Norwich, by another train from Lowestoft. The juriction
was effected that night in the ordinary course, and the combined train
proceeded to Brundall, three stations farther on. Here it had to wait,
because the line is single, until the
The worst head-on collision in the history of British railways occurred
on the night of 10 September 1874 between Norwich Thorpe and Brundall stations.
As was generally the case human error was to blâme, although the
Board of Trade inspector criticised the laxity of the system that allowed
such mistakes to occur. A seriés of misunder-standings between the
stationmaster, the night inspector and the telégraph clerk, and
the dispatch of a message without the required signature resulted in two
trains being dispatchedfrom each end of the single line. These three and
the ticket collector stood helplessly on the platform at Norwich Thorpe,
knowing there was nothing they couid do to avert the disaster. The final
déath toll was twenty-five, and seventy-three were injured; the
ILN quotes lower figures.
arrival of the evening express from Norwich to Great Yarmouth, or until
permission should be given to the engine-driver to proceed. A mistaken
order from Mr. T. Cooper, the night inspector at Norwich station, allowed
the down express to leave Norwich, while the combined mail-train from Great
Yarmouth was suffered to come on from Brundall. The consequence was that
the doomed trains met at Thorpe, nearly two miles from Norwich, and ran
headlong into each other. The rails were slippery from rain; there was
a slight curve in the line at the fatal spot, so that the lights of neither
train could be seen; there was no time to apply the brakes, and the two
engines rushed at each other at full speed. The engine drawing the combined
mail-train (No. 54) was one of the most approved modern construction and
of great power. The engine drawing the train from Norwich was a lighter
one, but had acquired, with its train, a consider-able momentum. In the
crash which followed the collision the funnel of engine No. 54 was carried
away, and the engine from Norwich rushed on the top of its assailant, some
of the carriages of each train following, until a pyramid was formed of
the locomotives, the shattered carriages, and the wounded, dead, or dying
passengers. Eighteen persons were killed, and four have since died.
The down train from Norwich
was made up, as usual, of two portions. The larger portion, for Yarmouth,
formed the first section of the train; after which came the Lowestoft carriages.
These two sections would be separated at Reedham, and each would then travel
on its own branch line. The Yarmouth portion of the train consisted of
the following carriages: 1, the engine and tender, driven by Clarke and
his fireman Sewell (both killed); 2, a horse-box belonging to the Stockton
and Darlington Railway Company; 3, a second-class carriage; 4, an open
third-class carriage; 5, a first-class carriage; 6, a third-class carriage;
7 and 8, composite carriages; 9 and 10, third-class carriages; 11, brake-van,
containing the guard Read. Then came the Lowestoft portion of the train,
in the following order: - 12, a second-class carriage; 13, a first-class
carriage; 14, a third-class carriage; 15, break-van, containing the guard
Black. The two guards escaped with cuts and bruises. They were in the rear
part of the train, in carriages which, happily, did not leave the rails,
or otherwise the whole of the Lôwestoft portion of the train would
have fallen into the river Yare, which is here about fifty yards wide.
As it was, the Lowestoft carriages remained on the bridge, a wooden one,
69 yards long, adapted for a single line of rails, but in process of widening.
Iron girders are being intro-duced, and there were wide chasms in the bridge.
It is a wonder that no passengers were drowned in attempting to get out
of these three carriages, for there was no balustrade or railing, and anybody
alighting upon the planks of the bridge from the projecting step of a carriage
would be likely to fall forward into the water. However, dredging in the
river has produced no results. Another reason for thankfulness is that
the two engines did not meet upon the bridge. Even if the bridge itself
had stood firm, the foremost carriages must have been hurled into the water,
and the number of deaths would have been doubled or trebled. A very slight
difference in the speed of either train, or a few seconds' difference in
the time of starting, would have made the calamity far more dreadful.
It will be seen that there
were fourteen carriages behind the engine and tender of the down express.
The following was the composition of the up mail one: - Engine and tender,
Prior, driver, and Light, fireman (both killed). Then followed the Yarmouth
carriages - 2, fish-truck laden with fish; 3, brake-van; 4 and 5, com-posite
carriages; 6, third-class carriage; 7, mail-van, in which was the guard
having charge of the mail-bags; 8, composite carriage. Next came the Lowestoft
carriages - 9, brake-van; 10, third-class carriage; 11, first-class carriage;
12 and 13, second-class carriages; 14, third-class carriage. Thus there
were thirteen carriages behind the engine of the mail, so that the two
trains were pretty nearly equal in weight. It is certain, however, that
the mail-train must have had a much greater momentum. Both drivers had
reason for putting on increased speed, believing as they did that each
train was waiting for the other; but the engine of the mail-train was heavier
and more powerful than that of the express, besides which there is a slight
decline all the way to Brundall. It is thought that the speed of the up
mail could not have been less than from thirty to thirty-five miles an
hour, while the rate at which the express was travelling would be from
twenty to twenty-five miles. Imagination can only faintly conceive the
fearful shock of two such bodies propelled with this velocity, each presenting
exactly the same points of contact, and giving and receiving at the same
instant the full force of each other's blow. It was, in fact, the meeting
of two iron vans, of nearly equal size and power, urged on by steam, with
an irresistible weight behind urging thern on. The two engines and tenders
weighed each forty-five and forty tons. This made some eighty tons of metal
hurled almost through the air from opposite points, to say nothing of the
dead weight of the train behind. Mathematicians may calculate with this
weight and velocity what was the force exerted at the point of impact.
People living close by thought they heard a thunderpeal. The darkness of
the night, the heavy rain that was falling, and a slight curve round which
the mail-train was making its way must have prevented the two drivers from
seeing each other's lights till the trains were close together. How this
was in reality can never be known, as the four poor fellows who manned
the two locomotives, and could alone bear witness, were killed in a moment.
Captain Tyler's official
report upon the disastrous collision on the Great Eastern Railway, which
occurred near Norwich on Sept. 10, has been published. He, in his conclusions,
first considers the systern adopted in the working of the line; then examines
the immediate causes by which the accident was produced; apportions the
blame between Inspector Cooper and Telegraph-clerk Robson; and, lastly,
glances at the principles generally adopted in the working of single lines,
and the means, by which the risk of accidents of this nature may best be
provided against.
[ILN SEPT 19 1874]
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[ILN
Jun 17 1865] - The accident at Staplehurst on the South Eastern Railway
is remembered chiefly for the survival of the trains most eminent passenger,
Charles Dickens. At the time of the derailment, he was reading the manuscript
of Our Mutual Friend while on his way back to London after a visit to France.
The accident should have been avoided, despite the absence of two sections
of rail, if various safety procedures had been carried out. A labourer
should have protected the line by placing a detonator every250yd from theviaductforl,000ydat
which point he should have placed two more 10 yd apart and remained there
with a red flag. Theforeman, however, hadplâced him only 554yd away,
and since there were only two detonators to hand, the foreman in-structed
that they were only to be used in the event of jog; it was a sunny afternoon.
The shortened distance made it impossible for the driver to stop after
he had seen the red flag, and the guard failed to realise the urgency on
hearing the brake whistle, applying only the screw brake and not Cremar's
patent brakes with which the leading van and two coaches were fitted. Dickens
was unhurt and went round the victims administering what he thought was
a helpful restorative - brandy. Some of them died immediately, which puzzled
Dickens, occasioning him to note that 'Mr Dickenson was the first person
the brandy saved' There is no doubt that Dickens' nervous system never
recovered from the accident. One of his companions on the protracted reading
tours recorded that Dickens would writhe with nervousress whenever an express
gathered speed. On the fifth anniversary of the accident, 9 june 1870,
Dickens died in his fifty-eighth year. Whatever else, a platelayer's error
deprived us of a solution to The Mystery of Edwin Drood.
Back to the top
[ILN Mar 3 1855] - The section of line beside the sea between Starcross
and Dawlish has been a continual trial to the railway, because of the frequent
damage caused by high seas. The intention to construct a direct line between
Dawlish Warren and Newton Abbot was only part of a larger scheme to mitigate
delays on one of the most intensively used stretches of line during the
summer months; but one wonders whether the section through Teignmouth would
still be used today had World War II not terminated the slow progress with
the proposal. The first trouble experienced with the line, after opening
in May 1846, was in December 1852 at Breeches Rock between Teignmouth and
Dawlish. Héavy rain caused a spring to, break out from a soft vein,
resulting in the collapse of the cliff onto the railway. After a similar
occurrence in February 1853, the gradient of the cliff face was eased and
drainage work carried out, but it was not enough toprevent a slightfall
in October of the saine year. This illustra-tion shows the result of the
first attack on the line from the other side. Easter~y gales during the
first fortnight of February 1855 had washed away the beach near Teignmouth,
exposing the marl on which the railway and sea wall were built. Heavy seas
scoured the marl and despite remedial work 30yd of wall collapsed on the
16th. Severe frosts and turbulent seas prevented reconstruction, and by
the time work could begin 50yd of the embankment had been washed away.
Traffic was resumed by running trains to the edge of the breach and passengers
walking round. A wooden viaduct built across the gap was completed in early
March. Further strengthening was carried out during the summer under the
personal supervision of Brunel. The picture shows the future site of Parsons
Tunnel signalbox which controlled the convergence of the double linefrom
Teignmouth into the single line through the tunnels to Dawlish. This was
the last stretch of single line on the line between Paddington and Plymouth
and was not doubled until 1 October 1905. The odd history of the signalbox
is worth a mention; the box was switched out for almost half its life (from
1909-34 and 1946-7), finally closing in March 1964.
Back to the top
[ILN Jan 27 1866] - The Bristol & Exeter Railway, fully opened in
1844, was built to the broad gauge and became an integral part of the Great
Western route to Plymouth and Penzance. Flooding at Cowley Bridge and up
the valley of the Exe and Culm along which the railway runs for part of
the way, still happens after heavy rain; even the railway is still occasionally
inconvenienced.
[ILN
Mar 24 1866] - There is little doubt that our winters have become markedly
milder since the nine-teenth century when this kind of scene was an almost
annual occurrence on the Highland Railway. Trains were regularly brought
to a stand by snow and required the assistance of three locomotives with
heavy snowplough to extricate them. Huge gangs of labourers were dispatched
to dig trains out, and a well-known photograph shows a forest of spades
in the snow while the men had a brief respite. The representation of an
Allan 2-4-0 is quite reasonable for the time in comparison with other efforts.

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This page was created by Julia
Lee '99. It is maintained by Professor
Robert Schwartz of the History Department,
Mount Holyoke
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