Joseph Locke

by Joseph Locke- Civil Engineer

  When Phoebe’s sister, Sarah McCreery, died she left a bequest that enabled extra land to be bought that doubled the size of Locke Park. She also had a monument to her sister built in the park. This is a circular tower with a colonnade round the base that fell into disrepair for a time but was fully restored and reopened to the public in 2013. The view from the top of the tower is said to be the finest for miles around. There was one other memorial to Locke, a window in Westminster Abbey, but it was removed and sent up to Barnsley for preservation.

  Much of Locke’s own work in the latter years had been continued by John Errington, who completed the continuation of the London & South Western Railway to Exeter. It involved several quite severe gradients, and three tunnels of which the longest at Honiton (1,345 yards) proved particularly difficult. He also completed a line from Ingleton through Kirkby Lonsdale and Sedbergh to join the main line south of Shap. Errington died just two years after Locke: the work that had been begun by the partnership was at an end, and with it a vital period of railway history was also concluded.

  Chapter Sixteen

  EPILOGUE

  Locke’s obituary, published in volume 20 of the Proceedings of the Institution of Civil Engineers ended with these words: ‘Thus passed away within a few short months the third of the leaders of the Engineering world – Brunel, Stephenson and Locke:- they were born within two years of each other, and within the same space of time they died.’

  This was not the only obituary to link the three names together, yet history has not always been as kind to Locke, giving him rather less attention than his two illustrious contemporaries. It is worth comparing them to gain a more balanced view of Locke’s place in the railway pantheon.

  There were two major figures in railway history before this trio appeared on the scene. Richard Trevithick has the honour of being the inventor of the railway locomotive and of giving the first public demonstration of its abilities at the famous tests on the Penydarren tramway in 1804. However, he was unable to persuade others to follow in his footsteps nor to invest in his efforts. There was the troublesome problem of the heavy locomotive cracking brittle cast-iron rails, and the engineer’s own impatience. He made the effort to make his case, but when no one seemed that interested he simply moved on to other things. A number of engineers, starting with Blenkinsop and Murray, came along at a later date and began the development of the locomotive. But it was George Stephenson who had the vision to see that railways could be something more than merely a means of transporting coal from a colliery to a navigable waterway for shipment. He did not personally contribute any striking new developments to the locomotive, but he was Chief Engineer for the first really modern railway, the Liverpol & Manchester, even if his organisational abilities were a good deal less than perfect.

  Of the three men who carried the railway age forward and, in effect, formed the foundations of the modern railway system, not just in this country but who also helped to spread rails around the world, there is no doubt where the popular vote would go. Brunel has always been a great favourite of the British public, not just for his many achievements but also in good measure through his personality. He is the immediately recognisable figure, with stovepipe hat, big cigar and wrinkled trousers. He is the engineer who went his own way regardless of what alleged experts advised. But it is a mistake to overestimate his importance when looked at purely in terms of railway development.

  There is no denying that the Great Western Railway route from Bristol to London represented a civil engineering triumph, in offering level, smooth running between two great cities. Had it been built a few years earlier it might have set the standard to which future lines would have been built. But coming when it did, there was never a realistic chance that, whatever the benefits of broad gauge might be, it would supplant the rapidly developing network of lines built to the Stephenson gauge. It was not just in deciding that broad gauge was best that Brunel showed his independence; he built the lines using a very rigid system of sleepers, longitudinal balks of timber beneath the rails rigidly held together by ties. The argument was that such a system would be far more solidly reliable than any alternative. The trouble was that it proved, if anything, too solid, with little or no give. It was not widely adopted. When it came to locomotives, had Brunel’s specifications that he laid down at the start been strictly adhered to, he would have had a disaster on his hands. Fortunately, he had the young Daniel Gooch at his side to design what proved to be fast and reliable locomotives. The GWR had its outstanding structures: the wide, elegant arches of the Maidenhead Bridge and the immense tunnel at Box, later to be joined by his last great work, the bridge across the Tamar at Saltash.

  Brunel was never satisfied with simply being one of the crowd, accepting received wisdom. If there was the possibility of doing something new and daring, then he was the man. This approach led to his greatest mistake, the construction of the atmospheric railway, a mistake so massive and expensive it could have cost the career of a lesser man. So his life as a railway engineer is not a story of unsullied success. Had he done nothing else, he would still have been listed among the most important pioneers, but his name might not have become so well known. But he did do something else: he revolutionised the shipbuilding industry. He was the man who envisaged a steamship service across the Atlantic and built the ships that made it possible. The SS Great Britain set a new standard, an iron-hulled ship, driven by a propeller. It is fair to say that his contribution to the maritime world was far greater and of more lasting value than anything he did for the world of railways. Judged purely on his contribution to the railways, Locke was more than his equal.

  Robert Stephenson started with the advantage that when he began his working life, his father was already recognised as the leading railway engineer of the age. But Robert was a very different man from his father and his success was won entirely on his own merits. While still a young and relatively inexperienced engineer, he was entrusted with the task of designing an engine to prove the value of the steam locomotive as the most efficient device for moving traffic on railways. He not only rose to the challenge, but in Rocket he produced the locomotive that was to contain all the main elements that could be developed in the future: he angled the steam cylinders instead of having them set vertically and he used a multitubular boiler combined with exhaust blast to provide the necessary power. It is true that the boiler was first suggested by Henry Booth and exhaust blast had already been demonstrated by Trevithick, but it was in bringing the different elements together that he showed his progressive thinking. He was to go on to develop the locomotive and, in his Planet class, he designed engines that we can clearly see as precursors of locomotives built decades later.

  Stephenson also had his share of civil engineering triumphs, notably his great bridges: the high-level bridge across the Tyne in Newcastle and the Britannia Bridge at the Menai Straits, a design he was to repeat in far more difficult circumstances when he had to bridge the St Lawrence River in Quebec. His designs were innovative and successful, but his career might have ended prematurely had he been officially blamed for the Dee bridge disaster. In spite of that one blot on his record, his story is one of high achievements and certainly earned him a high place in the railway pantheon.

  These, then, are the two engineers against which Locke’s career can be evaluated. He was not an engineer who created innovative bridges, simply because he never needed to do so. The obituary previously quoted also made that clear: ‘His viaducts were of ordinary dimensions, though some of them were admirably constructed. In every case they exactly fitted to the places they occupied.’ That hints at Locke’s great virtue. He was not a man for ostentation, but what he did he did well with a minimum of fuss.

  From the first he showed his faith in the locomotive and its development: the pamphlet he and Robert Stephenson produced was a cogent argument against the use of stationary engines for main-line traffic. And when he was in a position to influence the design of locomotives at the new works
at Crewe, he promoted the very sensible policy of having the minimum of different designs and standardisation to make repairs as easy as possible. But it is in the field of civil engineering that he made his greatest contribution. In his early career as an assistant to George Stephenson he was frequently dismayed by the somewhat chaotic way in which contracts were allocated and supervised, and determined that when he was the man in charge he would do things very differently. He developed a reputation for bringing in work on time and on budget: a rare event even today. The costs per mile of a Locke railway were generally considerably lower than those of any comparable line. He managed to achieve this admirable record because of the meticulous preparatory work that he put in. At the end of surveying a route, he had worked out to his own satisfaction exactly what was needed and how much it should cost to provide it. That was the basis on which he awarded contracts. The instructions on what was needed were precise and detailed; the costs carefully worked out and annotated. Contractors might grumble – as it seems Mackenzie did on several occasions – but no one ever lost money carrying out a Locke contract. Inevitably unexpected difficulties sometimes arose, but allowance was duly made. The good relations he established with his contractors was exemplified by his long association with Thomas Brassey, who was not only the first choice for most jobs but remained a personal friend to the end.

  Like Robert Stephenson, Locke contributed to overseas development, especially with the lines for which he was responsible in France, and was instrumental in setting up that country’s first specialised locomotive works. But it is for his British lines that he will be best remembered. If there is one outstanding aspect of his professional beliefs, it is his conviction that the locomotive would develop rapidly and that in the not too distant future it would comfortably overcome obstacles that had once seemed insurmountable. It was this faith in progress that led him to build lines with such severe gradients in Scotland and at Shap Fell. The locomotives of his time might struggle: in the future engines would make light of the problem. It may all have taken a little longer than he expected, but he would surely be delighted to travel his old lines today behind engines that really do dash up Shap Fell apparently as easily as they cruise down it.

  It seems likely that the lack of immediately imposing structures has led to Locke’s work not featuring in people’s vision of railway history and has resulted in a comparative undervaluing of his work. Yet to contemporaries he was the man to have in charge if what you wanted was a reliable, well-constructed railway that was liable to cost you less than it would have done if entrusted to a different engineer. This was good news for the travelling public and even better news for shareholders.

  Much of his working life was spent in developing a route up the west coast into Scotland in direct competition with Stephenson’s east coast line. Locke won that particular battle to be the first to cross the border, and the rivalry lived on into the latter part of the century, decades after the death of both engineers. The ‘Races to the North’ were an attempt to persuade the travelling public that one particular line was far better than the other if you wanted to get to Scotland from London in a hurry. The truth is there was very little difference. The final competitive run was made on 22 August 1895, when the west coast route from London to Aberdeen was completed in 8 hours 32 minutes at an average speed of 63.3mph, while the east coast took 8 hours 38 minutes at an average of 62.3mph. Locke and Stephenson were good friends as well as rivals, and both men would probably have regarded the result as an honourable draw. Was Locke more deserving of honours than Stephenson or should the honours go the other way? The answer seems obvious: like the race to the north it is an honourable draw. Joseph Locke deserves to be remembered in exactly the same way as his contemporaries, Brunel and Stephenson, as one of the nineteenth century’s great engineers.

  BIBLIOGRAPHY

  Austin, Alfred, Autobiography, 1890

  Bailey, Michael R. (ed.), Robert Stephenson – The Eminent Engineer, 2003

  Brooke, David (ed.), The Diary of William Mackenzie, 2000

  Brooke, David, William Mackenzie: International Railway Builder, 2004

  Burton, Anthony, The Railway Builders (2nd edition), 2016

  Burton, Anthony, The Railway Empire (2nd edition), 2017

  Devey, Joseph, The Life of Joseph Locke, 1869

  Dow, George, The First Railway between Manchester and Sheffield, 1945

  Drake, James, Road Book of the Grand Junction and London and Birmingham Railways, 1839

  Helps, Arthur, Life and Labours of Mr. Brassey, 1872

  Joy, David, Main Line over Shap, 1967

  Larkin, Edgar J.L. and Larkin, John G., The Railway Workshops of Britain, 1988

  Measom, George, The Official Guide to the Lancaster & Carlisle, Edinburgh & Glasgow and Caledonian Railways, 1859

  Morgan, Bryan, Railways: Civil Engineering, 1971

  Nock, O.S., The Caledonian Railway, 1961

  Nock, O.S., The London and North Western Railway, 1960

  Rolt, L.T.C., George and Robert Stephenson, 1960

  Roscoe, Thomas, The Book of the Grand Junction, 1839

  Ross, David, The Caledonian, Scotland’s Imperial Railway, 2013

  Webster, N.W., Joseph Locke: Railway Revolutionary, 1970

  Williams, R.A., London and South Western Railway Formative Years, 1968

  Attercliffe, Joseph Locke’s birthplace as it looked at the early part of the nineteenth century before it was engulfed by Sheffield.

  Columbine, the oldest surviving example of a Crewe locomotive built in 1845 and now in the National Railway Museum at York.

  Barnsley, where Locke spent most of his childhood, seen here at Queen Victoria’s Jubilee, by which time the railway had arrived at the town. (Barnsley Archives and Local Studies)

  The opening of the Canterbury & Whitstable Railway in 1830, the first line to operate passenger trains with steam locomotives: a lithograph by T.M. Baynes.

  The tunnel at Edgehill on the Liverpool & Manchester Railway, a site where Locke worked as assistant engineer under George Stephenson.

  Brusselton incline on the Stockton & Darlington Railway, from Robert Young’s biography of Timothy Hackworth, 1923. There was a proposal to use a system like this, using a stationary engine and cable haulage on the L & MR. The argument against was put by Locke with Robert Stephenson.

  The contestant in the Rainhill Trial, that was to determine which, if any, locomotives would run the L & MR.

  Passengers wander across the track at Parkside on the L & MR. It was here that Huskisson had his fatal accident on the opening day.

  The contractor Thomas Brassey, who was to become Locke’s most trusted associate and friend, from Arthur Helps, Life and Labours of Mr. Brassey 1872.

  A train for Southampton running through Clapham cutting c.1840, headed by a Sharpie 2-2-2 locomotive, with a train of period stock. (John Scott Morgan)

  The terminal buildings at Southampton, designed by William Tite, photographed in 1910: the building is now a pub restaurant. (John Scott Morgan)

  Woodhead tunnels on the Sheffield & Manchester Railway. The two original single-bore tunnels can be seen to the left of the photograph, while a new double tunnel is under construction on the right. An engine house from the earlier construction period can be seen on the horizon. (Ben Brookshank)

  The engine erection shop at Crewe. (Science and Society)

  An early French map of the Paris-Rouen Railway with an illustration of a viaduct across the Seine.

  Barentin viaduct, which failed catastrophically and had to be entirely rebuilt.

  St. Pierre built by Allcard, Buddicom & Cie for the Paris-Rouen Railway in 1845 and now preserved at the Cité du train, Mulhouse. (Cité du Train)

  The official opening of the line from Paris top Le Havre included the blessing of the locomotive.

  Bishopston cutting on the Glasgow, Paisley & Greenock Railway: it seems probable that the gentleman overseeing their works and wearing a top hat is the contractor Wil
liam Mackenzie. (University of Glasgow)

  The London to Glasgow train, double headed with 42319 and 4550 at Low Gill in the wild Cumbrian fells. (Paul Claxton)

  The original bridge carrying the Richmond, Windsor & Staines Railway across the Thames at Richmond, an engraving from the Illustrated London News.

  The Windsor line here seen near Datchet c.1840.

  A cartoon depicting the chaos caused by the break of gauge at Gloucester as passengers rush to change from broad gauge to standard gauge.

  A replica of Mataró: the original, the first locomotive to run in Spain, was built for the Barcelona and Mataró railway. The replica is in the railway museum at Vilanova.

  The Bróval tunnel in which Locke had a serious accident during its construction.

  Le Gare Montparnasse, the Paris terminus for the Compagnie de l’Ouest.

  Buchanan Street station, the original Glasgow terminus of the Caledonian railway was only intended to be a temporary structure but survived into the twentieth century.

  The official document from the College of Heralds awarding Locke his coat of arms.

  Robert Stephenson, Locke’s old friend and engineering rival, photographed in 1856.