ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Whilst writing this book, I have had the enormous pleasure of ‘meeting’ (over the internet, email, telephone, or letter) many new people who have been more than kind and helpful to a total stranger. I thank them not just for their support, their genuine interest and enthusiasm, but also for their trust. It is wonderfully reassuring to find such people are around. I have many people to thank, as this book has been something of a team effort – so, a big ‘thank you’ to – Anna Stone, archivist at Aviva, for searching the archive, sending and reviewing material and the use of graphics; Dave Pennington of the London & North Western Railway Society for digging out articles; Peter Witts of the Midland Railway Society, who went out of his way to find material and helpful sources and look over drafts; Richard Flindell and the archaeologists at Network Rail for passing on the fruits of their work; Dave Chapman for guidance and input on explosives; Paul Hindle of Manchester Geographical Society for pointing me in a good direction; and John Clarke who made time for friendly conversations, direction and support.
Rev. Canon Brian Arman, Ken Gibbs, Jack Hayward, Clive Foxell, and Elaine Chapman, archivist at STEAM Museum, Swindon; Viv Head and Richard Stacpoole-Ryding of the British Transport Police History Group, and Sheffield History Group, all offered advice, suggestions and sources. Chris Heaven gladly sent on a precious book for me to read, as did Hugh Epstein of the Conrad Society; Angela Bell of the Thomas Hardy Society immediately responded with very helpful information; Sue McNaughton of ‘Wandleys on the Web’ courageously ploughed through her large volumes of Punch; and Peter Cross-Rudkin of the Railway & Canal Historical Society (R&CHS) replied with a speed that was outstanding. Thanks, Peter, and the R&CHS for trying to ascertain more information on the ‘spear break’ (something of a mystery to all), and to Alan M. Levitt, in New York, who responded with a plausible suggestion.
I have been fortunate indeed, with help and advice from those with a passion and knowledge of the mysteries of the Tay Bridge Disaster. Members of three groups need special mention: Donald Cattanach and Allan Rodgers of the North British Railway Study Group; David Swinfen of the Tay Rail Bridge Disaster Memorial Trust and Murray Nicoll of the Tay Valley Family History Society, who all gave immense and valued help. Another, Peter Lewis of the Open University, happily offered and sent his literature. All gave generously of their time, knowledge and expertise, but also kindly shared their findings and research which saved me time and possible mistakes. A memorial to all those known who perished was erected in December 2013 close by the Tay Bridge.
To those who have allowed the use of photographs and images, many thanks. They all add value to the book. A special thank you to those who run historical websites, they have provided a useful starting point and sources. To those who escaped memory, I offer an encompassing ‘thanks’ and my apologies. I will endeavour to put it right in the next edition.
As always, I thank my family for their continued interest in my railway world, especially my husband, Ian, for his time, his patience, and tolerance of hearing me go on and on about it, and for reading it over.
CONTENTS
Title
Acknowledgements
Introduction: Railway Accidents
DEATH
1
The Melancholy Death of the Unfortunate Mr Huskisson – first ‘famous’ railway death
2
The Accident at Sonning Cutting – a mere ‘slip’!
3
‘Bring Out Your Dead’ – the Necropolis Railway
4
‘Unburying’ the Dead – a nineteenth-century occupational hazard
DYNAMITE
5
The Dynamitards
The Underground
The Fenians
Suspected Attempt to Wreck a Train
A ‘Daring and Dastardly Outrage’ – the Underground attacks
‘The Infernal Machine’ – bombs on the stations
A ‘Criminal Outrage by Enemies of Order’
First Terrorist Death on the Railways
DISASTER
6
Hexthorpe – A Race Day ‘Special’
Reporting the Accident
The Dead
The Injured
Compensation
Inquiry and Trial
Brakes
7
The Tay Bridge Disaster
The Event
The Train
The People
The Inquiry
The Sessions
The Conclusion
Bibliography
Copyright
INTRODUCTION
RAILWAY ACCIDENTS
Death, Dynamite, Disaster – all words that stir the blood as well as the imagination; all words, however, that one would rather not imagine in the context of today’s railways or Underground.1
Nowadays, railways are accepted as ‘commonplace’ and travelling on them is an everyday occurrence. We no longer talk of the ‘wonder of the railways’, if indeed we talk of them at all – we just expect them to be there. We also expect them to be safe. We do not travel anticipating accidents or serious mishap. Neither do we undertake new railway projects expecting that workers will lose their lives or suffer horrendous injury; however, in the early days of the railways – their birth, infancy and toddler years – everything connected to railways: building and working on them; walking by or crossing them; getting into and travelling on them; even waiting patiently at the station was fraught with danger. Indeed, it can be said that death and injury on nineteenth-century British railways occurred so regularly – almost daily in earliest times – as to be regarded as ‘commonplace’. So commonplace that railway accidents became part and parcel of modern Victorian life and so familiar that even new medical terms entered the vernacular of railways. So commonplace, in fact, that they offered an entrepreneurial opportunity in the guise of ‘The Railway Passengers’ Assurance Company’. Whilst ‘Life Assurance’ had been around for quite some time, assurance for accidents was unheard of. ‘The Universal Railway Casualty Compensation Company’ was the brainwave of solicitor H.F. Holt after a conversation with his clerk. He declared his intention of creating a company, in November 1848, in an advertisement stating, ‘… for the purpose of insuring the lives of persons travelling in Great Britain and Ireland, against Accidents on Railways and for affording compensation for injuries sustained by such accidents …’
The company was officially started in December 1848, and was known only for three days under this initial name, thereafter it became ‘The Railway Passengers’ Assurance Company’. What differentiated this company from other life assurance companies was the ‘and’ (my italics, because here is the big difference): ‘and to grant in cases of accident not having a fatal termination compensation to the assured for injuries received under certain conditions’; thus ‘The Railway Passengers’ Assurance Company’ was the first of its kind and a true pioneer in the field.
In order for the initiative to be successful, agreement had to be obtained from the railway companies for their booking clerks to sell the insurance for journeys along with the travel tickets. In return for this, the companies would receive commission on the sales, 50 per cent of which would go to the setting up of a Benevolent Fund for railway employees. Agreement had also to be obtained from the Chancellor of the Exchequer to accept a percentage tax on premiums, rather than stamp duty on each policy issued. This was vital to the success of the company, as booking clerks would not have been able to sell the insurance if each policy had needed to be stamped upon purchase. Premiums varied according to the class of travel, since those sitting in the roofless second and exposed third-class coaches were at higher risk than those
comfortably ensconced in first class. An advertisement in The Times, in January 1849, stated these terms, ‘for the sum of 3d, a first-class passenger to insure £1,000 in case of death, second class 2d, to insure £500; third class 1d, to insure £200 and in case of accident only a sum of money to be promptly paid in proportion to the extent of injury sustained.’2
The Railway Passengers’ Assurance Company could only deliver their product with the co-operation of the individual railway companies. Here we can see that eight have come onboard. What made this insurance so radical was the fact that it was insuring not only for loss of life, but also for injury. (Aviva)
This ‘ticket’, No. 3264, issued to Mr John Steel at a premium of £1, covered him for £1,000 for loss of life and a proportion of such ‘in the event of his sustaining personal injury … whilst travelling in any class Carriage … in Great Britain or Ireland’, for one whole year. It makes one think that Mr Steel had occasion to travel by railway a lot. (Aviva)
By 1850, it was operating on thirty-two railways and, between January and September of that year, had issued 2,808 periodical tickets and 110,074 single journey tickets. In June 1852, a new act was passed enabling the company to insure any person against any kind of accident, which it employed somewhat later, in September 1855.3
The company’s first claimant, William Good of Dunstable, made his claim in November 1849, following an accident between Penrith and Preston, and was awarded a generous £7 6s. Other assurance companies were quick to see the potential of such business, seeking to join forces with the RPA Company (with no success), whilst others, like the British Railway Passenger Association (later renamed the Passenger Assurance Company), set up alone.
The RPA Company were quick to send their representatives to the scene of any disaster. Just days after the Tay Bridge accident on Sunday 28 December 1879, the Aberdeen Journal reported (on 1 January 1880) that Mr C.H. Dalton, RPA superintendent, had already arrived on the scene to ‘communicate without delay with the relatives of any passengers … who may have been in possession of the company’s tickets or policies.’ It found that one victim, W.H. Beynon, ‘held a policy against accidents of all kinds for £1000’.4 In its early years, the RPA Company dispatched a surgeon to each accident scene to see that the insured received proper attention, and that their claims were settled as speedily as possible. It was also not unknown for the company to advance money to a claimant to go for convalescence, in order to regain their strength before making their claim – service indeed!
Such were the numbers and regularity of railway accidents that there was a great deal of hostility towards directors of railway companies, as this cartoon shows.
The Railway Passengers’ Assurance Company weathered some rocky moments in its long history, up until 2005 when it was dissolved and its business absorbed into that of Commercial Union, which is now part of Aviva.
The reputation of railway companies in connection with accidents was dismal, even though some, like contemporary railway writer Samuel Smiles, argued how safe the railways were:
The remarkable safety with which railway traffic is on the whole conducted, is due to constant watchfulness and highly-applied skill. The men who work the railways are for the most part the picked men of the country, and every railway station may be regarded as a practical school of industry, attention, and punctuality. Where railways fail in these respects, it will usually be found that it is because the men are personally defective, or because better men are not to be had. It must also be added that the onerous and responsible duties which railway workmen are called upon to perform require a degree of consideration on the part of the public which is not very often extended to them. 5
The statistics from the Returns to the Railway Department of the Board of Trade – such as this one, ending June 1887 (written up by Illustrated London News) – give different insight:
There were reported eighteen collisions between passenger-trains by which sixty-four passengers and nine railway servants were injured; twelve collisions between passenger-trains and goods or mineral trains, by which seventy-six passengers and twelve servants were injured; seven collisions between goods-trains, by which two servants were killed and fifteen persons injured; twenty cases of passenger-trains leaving the rails, by which one servant was killed and eighteen persons injured; four cases of goods-trains leaving the rails, by which three servants were killed; and ten cases of trains running into stations or sidings at too high speed, by which twenty passengers and two railway servants were injured. 6
And another report, five years later for the six-month period ending June 1892, written up in the Great Western Railway Magazine, listed 381 accidents of various kinds: collisions between passenger trains; collision between passenger and goods or mineral trains; passenger trains leaving the rails; trains or engines travelling in the wrong direction through points; trains running into stations at high speed; failures of axles, couplings, a bridge and the rails themselves – all resulting in eleven passengers and three railway servants killed and 282 passengers and thirty-two servants injured.7 These, along with the numerous articles and editorials in the national, local and railway papers, over decades of time, show that associating with the railways was undoubtedly a hazardous affair. In his book Railway Accidents – Legislation and Statistics 1825–1924, full of meticulously detailed facts, numbers and statistics, Raynar H. Wilson states that, between 1871 and 1890 (inclusive), there were 2,473 accidents of various classes and enough seriousness to warrant being inquired into.
Accidents from crossing the rails, whether at level crossings or in stations, were notorious. The numbers of deaths each year were horrific, and time and again the matter was raised in Parliament. Mr Channing, MP (Northampton, E.), addressed the House of Commons regarding what he dryly called, ‘this most fruitful source of accidents!’8 He quoted figures from the Returns of 1885 and 1886, stating that, in 1885, there were ninety-three persons killed and thirty-four persons injured at level crossings, and in 1886 there were 104 killed and fifty-two persons injured (that is more than two killed and one injured in every week of the year). 9
Even in the closing decade of the century, such accidents were so commonplace that they were often not reported in newspapers under straplines connecting it to the railway; rather, something ‘other’ was used in order to capture the reader’s attention, such as ‘COMMERCIAL TRAVELLER KILLED’. In this instance, the report is on the ‘terrible accident’ of a ‘well-dressed gentleman’; a commercial traveller called Firth, who made his way to the Midland Railway’s King’s Heath Station after a hard day’s work calling on local tradesmen. The layout of the station meant that he had to ‘cross the rails’ and, whilst doing so, he slipped and fell in front of the 6.25 p.m. train from King’s Norton. To the horror of the driver and others present ‘the engine passed over the middle of his body and completely severed it’.10
Railway accidents impacted hugely on a Victorian society trying to get to grips with the new world of industrialisation, science and technology; a fast-moving and rapidly changing world, one with a constant shifting in society’s values and culture. It was a challenging and exciting time, but full of tensions and anxieties brought about by having to deal with the unknown, and railway accidents became the physical manifestation of collective anxieties. From the very beginning of the railway age the number and nature of railway accidents was truly shocking, as was the number and nature of deaths and injuries. For the travelling public, what was especially worrisome about railway accidents was not just what happened to one at the time of the incident, but what could later happen as a result of it – one could become seriously ill and disabled by ‘shock’ itself. For a society traumatized by such events, the railway accident became an iconic symbol of the nation’s shock. Dr Furneaux Jordan, an eminent physician of the time, wrote in 1882:
All that the most powerful impression on the nervous system can effect, is effected in a railway accident … The incidents of a railway accident contribute to form a
combination of the most terrible circumstances which it is possible for the mind to conceive. The vastness of the destructive forces, the magnitude of the results, the imminent danger to the lives of numbers of human beings and the hopelessness of escape of the danger, give rise to emotion which in themselves are quite sufficient to produce shock, or even death itself.11
Inspecting Officers of the Railway Department of the Board of Trade played a large part in the investigation of railway accidents. Recruited from the Corps of Royal Engineers, they brought a wealth of technical knowledge, experience and a professional integrity to their new roles. The Railway Inspectorate, under the umbrella of the Board of Trade, came into being in 1840 as a result of the Railway Regulations Act (1840). The inspectors were experienced engineers, but were recruited purely from the military. Their job was to investigate accidents reported by railway companies to the Board of Trade, and thence to report their findings to Parliament. These reports were published and made available to everyone – including the public. The Inspectorate was also tasked with inspecting new lines, and commenting on their suitability for carrying passenger traffic.
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