Death, Dynamite and Disaster

by Rosa Matheson

  Apparently the Fenians had threatened action against the Irish Mail previously.24 The Irish Mail was the first train to be named, back in 1859. It ran between Euston London and Holyhead and ‘in 1863 it was the fastest train out of Euston’.25 These fast mail trains (and steamers crossing the Irish Sea) initially carried only limited numbers, restricted to first-class and second-class passengers, and were popular with politicians or landowners needing to get to Ireland quickly. The Limited Mail, sometimes called the Scotch Limited Mail (George P. Neele, superintendent of the line of the L&NWR called it such) began to accept third class in the autumn of 1876, but the Irish Mail held out.26 On 1 March 1875, ‘sleeping saloons’ were introduced on night runs of the Irish Mail for an extra fare of 5s.The guards made generous, if ‘illegitimate earnings [from] their custom to furnish likely patrons with sticks and a spare cushion [thereby] … the space in the compartment was comfortably bridged over, and a long sofa-shaped seat established.’27

  A search of the company’s books for tickets issued did not shed light on any ‘illustrious personages travelling by any mainline down-train from Saturday to Monday inclusive,’28 including any politician. It was, however, later leaked that Lord Northbrook (First Lord of the Admiralty) and his friend a Dr (Sir) Richard Quain had actually travelled on this train, adding to the possibility of a targeted person and train. The Limited Mail left Euston at 8.25 p.m. that Sunday night (twenty-five minutes after the Irish Mail, ten minutes before the Scotch express and twenty-five minutes before the Liverpool and Manchester express passed through Bushey at 9.15 p.m.).29

  Having ascertained, through chemical analysis, that the substance was indeed dynamite, the precaution of placing more police along the line, and at Bushey Station, was taken. Altogether, there were found to be twenty-seven cartridges of dynamite, or ‘long paper bags shaped like tolerably large sausages resembling miner’s charges’ as The Times described them. Eventually it was determined that the ‘sausages’ came from Nobel’s Explosive Company’s works in Ardeer, Ayrshire. The company recognised their products despite the coverings having been torn off and substituted with part of the Echo, and inside that The Telegraph. It was also determined that they had not been obtained through ordinary channels. The long detonator caps, which were fixed to each end of the three India rubber tubes, were from either Messrs Dyer & Robson, or Ely Brothers Ltd.30

  One point of interest is in respect of the India rubber tubes. Why? Well, India rubber tubes were accessible to members of the railway staff. An item, in G. Neele’s, Railway Reminiscences, tells what happened before the company introduced ‘first aid’ classes:

  Prior to these skilled lessons, it had been arranged to supply ‘tourniquets’ to all the signal boxes, goods guards’ depots, etc.… Elastic India-rubber tubes31 were at first supplied in special boxes, with instructions as to their being constantly kept supple, and as to the course to be adopted to arrest bleeding in case of accident.

  The way in which the bomb had been put together suggested that it was indeed homemade, and by amateurs. Fortunately, it had been a gloomy, wet night on the Sunday and the ground around was very wet, as was the dynamite when found, and so it would not have readily exploded, although the driver of the Irish Mail had reported that he ‘was conscious of a slight explosion, which he took for a defective fog signal’. If it had exploded, all traces of the bomb would (they hoped) have disappeared and the removal of the fishplates would have led to the conclusion that this was just another unfortunate railway accident amongst the many.

  The event raised a lot of indignation in the local community of Bushey and Watford, more outrage than fear, especially the ‘un-English’ nature of it. Despite the government and the L&NWR each offering a reward of £100, and despite there being promising leads which were handed over to the Criminal Investigation Department, no one was ever apprehended for this crime. One of the leads was, ‘a man driving away in a trap around the time’; another was a ‘Mr T’ who had given a fictitious address at Charing Cross Hotel, when he purchased a similar number of detonators about ten days previously. There had been great excitement about the fact that he had then written to the company saying, ‘Mr T thinks that he did not mention the number of detonators ordered by him today … he will want ten’.32

  There was (is) little evidence to support the idea that this was a Fenian attack. Superintendent Neele also found the idea difficult to accept, he wrote:

  The alarm respecting Fenianism still continued, and we had frequent letters warning us that the Irish Mail and the Britannia Tube were threatened. For my part, I had difficulty in believing that any Fenians [would] interfere with the mail in view of the fact that the Irish Members were so frequently travelling by that train.

  What is interesting, and also lends weight to the fact that this was not their work, is that none of those who write of the Fenian campaign include this incident in that campaign – it is universally agreed that their campaign started in January 1881. Making the time to disguise it as a probable accident was definitely not their modus operandi and, as importantly, would not fit their purpose since, for them, ‘the deed’ was their propaganda. That the attempt caused such excitement is not surprising, since it was the first ever act of terrorism on the railway in mainland Britain.33

  The Fenian Campaign

  The Fenians carried out their terror campaign from January 1881 to January 1885 (some say 1887), covering one end of Britain to the other. They chose ‘hard’ targets i.e. those representing the government and the ‘Establishment’, which included the Houses of Parliament, Scotland Yard and The Times offices, this to hurt Britain; and ‘soft’ targets – the Tower of London, the railway stations and the Underground – to bring mayhem to the masses. There is debate, even today, whether the bombers included civilians in their scenarios – wanting, or not, to achieve their deaths or mutilations. This debate is very much open in respect of their attacks on ‘The White Tower’, the railway stations and the Underground.

  The Fenians started their anti-railway campaign in the North. On 20 January 1883, there were dynamite explosions at Tradeston Gasworks, Possil Canal Bridge and a coal shed of the Caledonian Railway. Then they came to London.

  A Daring and Dastardly Outrage

  On Tuesday October 1883, ‘a daring and dastardly outrage’34 occurred on the ‘Underground Railway’. A ‘series’ (as they were called by the papers) of explosions took place within a few minutes of each other at around 8 p.m.

  At Praed Street Station, it is believed that there were actually two explosions, ‘the first so slight only to attract the attention of a few of the passengers.’35 Mr W. Langridge, a first-class passenger in the affected train, spoke decisively of ‘an explosion like that of a fog-signal; a short time before the main one’.36 The other, a much more dramatic affair, exploded just after the train (made up of the engine and six carriages – two second class, a first class and three third class) had left Praed Street Station, on the up-line, and gone through the first tunnel of approximately 50 yards, into the open for another 30 yards and had just entered the short tunnel before Edgware Road Station. The violence of the explosion was felt on the left-hand side of the train. It blew out all of the lighting on the Praed Street Station platform, in the tunnel, and in the most of the train, which continued in the pitch dark, with its passengers shrieking in alarm and pain and crying for help, until it arrived just minutes later at Edgware Road. Those in the damaged carriages travelled where they had been thrown, ‘in heaps together’, many were concerned that the carriage would fall apart before they arrived. At Edgware Road, the full extent of the damage could be seen. The last three carriages, all third class, bore the force of the explosion, but the main brunt impacted on the last two carriages, the very last being where the guard’s van was located. Mr Langridge later reported that, as the train pulled out, he had looked out of the window on the off-side to check the signals in the six-foot way, as was his usual practice, and noticed ‘a stream of sparks like the burning
of a fuse under one of the carriages. Immediately afterwards he heard an explosion and was knocked down senseless.’37 It was in the second to last carriage, however, where the more severely injured were to be found, and the remains of the carriage was covered in blood, with the many blood-stained pocket handkerchiefs left behind presenting ‘a most sickening sight’. All three carriages had their left side blown inwards, and the other side blown outwards whilst their windows were blown out in main measure or completely, the glass broken into thousands of pieces, some large, most tiny splinters, and a lot reduced to granular powder, although the floors and main structure remained intact.38

  Whilst passengers burst out of their first and second-class carriages onto the platform, those in the thirds had to be helped and extricated. There were many injured, bleeding and covered in blood from cuts and piercings caused by the flying glass and wood splinters. The injured were taken to the waiting rooms, but these were already rather full with passengers waiting for trains. Many were travelling after visiting the Fisheries Exhibition (some shrimps were found strewn on the floor of one the carriages, obviously bought at the Fisheries for a later meal). Most of the injured were male labourers and tradesmen, the few women being ‘in service’ and identified as maids. Dozens were treated at the scene, some twenty-eight were sent on to St Mary’s Hospital (the nearest to hand), and many took themselves off once they had ‘collected’ themselves. Two school boys, Arthur McLintock and Ernest Lindley, up from Clacton-on-Sea for a day’s outing, received superficial cuts. Initially the number was reported to be in the region of forty, but the official report finally cited sixty-two, although this was only those who were recorded. Four had injuries severe enough to warrant being detained in the hospital for several days:

  Corporal Walter Warren (24) of 4th Queen’s Own Royal Hussars, Kensington Barracks, was one of the most badly injured, with very severe wounds to his head and face, and his throat badly lacerated. He remembered seeing ‘a very bright flash’ followed by ‘a terrible report like a cannon. It was on the outside of the carriage. I was struck by something that knocked me almost senseless.’ His cap was found in the carriage later and bore traces of its wearer having received a bad blow to the head.

  William George (23), ham and beef cutter, of 131 Queen’s Road, Bayswater, also suffered bad scalp wounds. He had travelled in the last carriage which was ‘rather full’. He remembered hearing two ‘reports’, a ‘very sharp one and the other a dull sound’. He saw ‘a flash’ and ‘the lights of the carriage went out suddenly’, then he found himself scrambling around amongst the other passengers. When he ‘collected’ himself he took out of his head a piece of glass an inch and a half long.39

  James Turner (16), porter, of 85 Abingdon Road, Kensington, had injuries to his eyes and ankle. He gave his account, ‘I was in the last carriage but one in which there was a brake. I saw a very bright light reflected upon the side of the carriage. I was going to put my head out of the window … when I felt my face severely scorched and was thrown back … there was a strong smell … and I was half-suffocated by it. We were in most complete darkness until we reached Edgware Road.’40

  George Brown (45), coach trimmer, of 9 Talbot Square, Hampstead Road, suffered scalp wounds.

  It was later discovered that the tympanic membrane of both William George and James Turner had been partially or wholly destroyed, leaving them either deaf or with severe hearing problems.

  Mr A.C. Howard, District Superintendent of police, Mr Godson, of the Metropolitan Railway police, Detective Inspector King, and Detective Sergeant Cloake took evidence from the officers of the company, and examined the tunnel. They found sleepers reduced to matchwood, whilst the rails were not damaged. The roof and walls of the tunnel were only superficially marked, but the gas pipe, about 1¼in diameter, running by the side of the tunnel (to provide low level gas for lighting in the tunnels) had been blown up from underneath, and was twisted. After an initial inspection, the train was sent to Neasden works for fuller examination and the tunnel was sealed off until official government inspectors arrived.

  The other explosion occurred on the Metropolitan District Line between Charing Cross and Westminster Bridge stations; some 300 yards from the Charing Cross entrance to the tunnel, and 100 yards below the first ventilator in the Embankment Gardens. Luckily, there were no trains in the tunnel at the time, although there was a train standing at each station. The signalman at Westminster Bridge Station, whose box, over 4 miles from the explosion, was so badly shaken that all its windows shattered, said that, on hearing ‘the report’, feeling the shock and seeing ‘great clouds of dust and smoke pouring out of the tunnel’, he looked at his watch which said 8.30 p.m.

  The back-blast from the explosion is believed to have been dissipated by the ventilation hole; however, it was still such that it extinguished all the lights in Charing Cross Station and in the train there; it blew over three of the passengers waiting on the platform, and blew out plate glass windows in various parts of the station and its roof.

  All train services were immediately stopped, and a thorough search of the tunnel was undertaken by railway personnel. They discovered ‘a hole some four feet in length and three feet in width and one foot in depth between the outer rails of the up-line (Mansion House to Kensington)’.41 The rails, or ‘metals’ as they were often called in newspaper reports, had remained intact; however, different sets of telegraph wires (vital for informing the next station of the departure of the trains), 8ft and13ft from the ground, were ‘ripped out and hanging, some quite broken. The roof and walls of the tunnel bore marks of having been struck by the flying ballast. Numerous fragments of Plaster of Paris were found around the crime scene, a substance which was known to be used in the making of “dynamite cartridges”.’42

  The papers were quick to point out that, whilst these events were a surprise, they were not totally unexpected. It was reported that, three months earlier, the ‘Railway Authorities’ had been informed by the police that they had received warning from America that the Fenians would extend their ‘skirmishes’ (as the Fenians termed them), and perpetrate acts of violence on the Underground. The railway companies had already ‘taken extra precautions’ and were able to start making enquiries immediately.

  Those ‘making enquiries into the mysterious affair’, as the papers reported, were the Railway Police, Scotland Yard, Dr Dupre, advisor to the government on chemical subjects, Sir Fredrick Abel, War Department chemist, and the Home Office Explosives Department led by Colonel Sir Vivian Dering Majendie.

  After the bomb exploded in the tunnel between Westminster Bridge and Charing Cross stations, smoke blasted back into Charing Cross Station causing great alarm. Such was the power of the back-blast that it blew out the station’s gas lights plunging it into deeper gloom, and knocked over the passengers waiting for the trains.

  Majendie, previously of the Royal Artillery, had already written several books on explosive materials and armaments when he became the first to hold the post of Chief Inspector of Explosives, in 1871. He was also influential in framing the Explosives Act 1875. On this occasion, Colonel Majendie was assisted by Captain Cundell. This team carried out experiments, at the Royal Arsenal in Greenwich, which simulated the conditions in the railway tunnel and the supposed substances used. They came to the conclusion that, from the violence of the explosion and the way the force was expended, that dynamite with ‘something in the nature of fuse attached to it’ was used to commit ‘the dastardly act’.

  The Report gave its findings:

  We beg to express our opinion that:

  A That the explosions were malicious and deliberately effected in each case by a charge of the nitro compound (or, as it is more commonly called, dynamite) character

  B That the charge did not in either case exceed a few pounds, and, unless an exceptionally weak nitro compound were employed, may in both cases be confidently put down as under five pounds

  C That the charge was in each case thrown from an up
train – viz – In the Praed Street case from the injured train and in the Charing Cross case from the up train that was just leaving Westminster

  D That the charge in the Praed Street case exploded prematurely, the fuse or arrangement on which the retardation of the explosion was to depend having failed to act as intended, a portion of the charge being burnt, and the remainder exploded before the train was clear. 43

  What linked this outrage to other similar recent Fenian incidents, the papers concluded, was the ‘savage disregard to life and indifference to the consequences’.44 That this ‘outrage’ was the work of ‘the Brotherhood’ was confirmed by O’Donovan Rossa in America, who also confirmed that they were pushing forward with ‘their operations to reduce the English to submission’ and advised Britain to watch for ‘new developments in their activities at any moment’.45

  The Home Office and the Metropolitan and District Railways conjointly offered a sizeable reward of 500s. The reward did not help to elicit any useful response, apart from a drunken man claiming, and then retracting, his involvement. The papers later reported that the only outcome of the event was that up to thirty people had lost their hearing to some extent. It was purported, however, that this seemingly ‘hopeless situation’ was to mislead those whom Scotland Yard were tracking – two particular Fenians – Captain John McCafferty, a well-known Fenian ‘head-centre’46 (term used for commanding officer) and a convicted felon in Ireland now on the run; and William O’Reardon, also a wanted man. It was to be another four months before the railways came under attack again, this time by another ‘sec’ or ‘cell’ of Dynamitards.