Fire and Steam

by Christian Wolmar

  Walker responded in a novel way by employing a public relations officer to combat the newspaper campaign. The fellow who was appointed to this groundbreaking role, John Blumenfeld Elliott, the son of the illustrious Edwardian journalist, R. D. Blumenfeld, later claimed to have invented the very name of the job, PRO, and set about countering the newspaper stories by writing articles in space bought in the newspapers. The very fact that the Southern’s reputation was so bad at the outset meant things could not get much worse and Elliott exploited this. An advertisement headed ‘The truth about the Southern’ was the first counterblast and reminded readers of the important role of the railway in transporting troops to and from the recent war, and how this overuse had contributed to the wear and tear of the fabric of the railways. That article was followed by a series of factual, well-written accounts of what the Southern was doing in terms of improving the track, electrifying lines and increasing services. Amazingly, Elliott’s counter-attack, backed strongly by Walker, had the desired effect and the Southern’s reputation was turned around, helped by the rapid progress of the electrification scheme.

  There is no doubt that the electrification programme was the most notable achievement of the railways during this period, resulting in the creation of the biggest electrified suburban railway in the world, stretching far beyond the suburbs of London. First, however, the debate over what system was to be adopted had to be resolved. The London, Brighton & South Coast had begun to electrify its suburban lines using an overhead system9 while the London & South Western had been persuaded by Walker to adopt a third-rail system for its early electrification projects covering its Shepperton and Hampton Court lines. There were pros and cons for both methods: the overhead system offered extra power, useful for a long route such as the line to Brighton, and its electrical sub-stations could be spaced more widely apart. Crucially, too, there was no risk of electrocuting unfortunate maintenance workers who stumbled on the track or of the conductor rail icing up, breaking the contact, a frequent occurrence on the third-rail system in icy wet weather. On the other hand, installing gantries for the catenary (the overhead wire) was expensive and necessitated moving some signals as their visibility was obscured.10 Moreover, parts of the South Eastern had been built so economically that the tunnels and road bridges did not have sufficient headroom to accommodate overhead wiring. The third-rail system therefore had the advantage that it could be applied throughout the Southern Railway and, since it was also cheaper and simpler to fit, Walker adopted it. Despite its problems, the system survives today to the bemusement of many commuters who have travelled on the Continent where overhead electrification is the norm.

  Cleverly, as a further way of reducing the overall cost, Walker devised a rolling programme so that there was a continuous flow of work for the team installing the system. Thus, for example, Waterloo to Guildford and Dorking, and Victoria to Orpington and Crystal Palace were electrified in 1925 and the following year several lines of the South Eastern such as North Kent, Bexleyheath and Dartford ensued. By 1930 Gravesend and Windsor were reached and three years later, the first major main line, London to Brighton, got its third rail, replacing the old overhead system that had been installed on the suburban section of the route.

  Walker was now extending electrification far beyond the London commuter lines, reckoning that the increase in traffic and the savings in costs justified the policy. Before Walker retired, routes from London to Eastbourne and Hastings and both lines to Portsmouth were electrified. The policy proved to be an undoubted success, contributing greatly to the profitability of the Southern railway and, indeed, stimulating the development of many suburbs and outlying villages where a fast and frequent train service ensured that commuting into the capital was bearable. Moreover, electrification allowed for much faster acceleration and braking, which meant that capacity on the railway could be greatly increased and trains could call at more stops within the same timetable. Walker exploited the advantages of electrification by providing more frequent services and it paid off. There was a ‘sparks effect’ on every route that was electrified, with passenger numbers increasing, ensuring that the company’s board was happy to see the programme continue. Walker ‘made suburbs of Chatham, Brighton, Portsmouth and Alton, with two or three trains up to London every hour of the day’.11

  In another far-sighted measure, Walker’s policy was to standardize running times outside peak hours on the clockface principle, with longdistance trains leaving London on the hour, and others departing at regular intervals at the same minutes past the hour during the day. In 1934, according to Walker, the electric services ran two and a half times more frequently than the steam trains they had displaced and annual takings on these lines were £6.2m compared with £4.4m with little increase in overall operating costs.12 In fact, Walker probably made a mistake by choosing the third-rail technology for the longer-distance routes, but had he not done so the railway would have faced the extra costs and inflexibility of having two (or possibly more) different systems. As it is, virtually all later electrification schemes on Britain’s railways used overhead catenary but that was partly because technological developments reduced the cost.

  Walker’s judgement was not always right, but his mistakes were generally forced on him by the constant need for penny-pinching due to the lack of resources. The condition of the coaches in which passengers travelled was a case in point. As an economy measure, many of the electrified carriages were simply old pre-war stock converted by fixing them on to bogies with electric motors, which was far from ideal. Walker favoured the old compartment stock without corridors for the suburban journeys because this speeded up boarding, even though the carriages were uncomfortable for standing passengers forced to squeeze between the two sets of knees of those lucky enough to have grabbed the seats. Special compartments were provided for women who could not face such close contact with the opposite sex and, later, trains which were open-plan but still had doors at every bay for quick entry and exit were introduced.

  If only the other companies had been so adventurous in electrifying their lines, Britain would have a very different railway today.13 However, they showed little interest, not only out of penury, but also because they reckoned that steam traction technology could become far more efficient and cheaper. The government, anxious to create jobs, looked at funding a national scheme in 1931 but missed the chance, finding that it would cost £261m and earn, at best, a 7 per cent return – which in fact for the railways would have been more than adequate. This was the kind of short-sighted calculation that has always dogged investment in the railways: successive governments failed to recognize that spending on the railways had far more value to society than the narrow economic returns obtained from the fare box. The Southern had proved this by stimulating growth and development in a swathe of south-east England, but it was the only one of the four railways to generate sufficient resources14 from its own profits to enable it to undertake such an ambitious programme.

  Elsewhere on the network, there was little impact on passengers in the immediate aftermath of amalgamation or, indeed, for some years afterwards. In those days before plastic decals which can be used to change the logo on a set of carriages overnight, there was little apparent difference with the old names and company liveries surviving several years. The services out of St Pancras remained far more pleasant than their counterparts leaving Euston just down the road, as they had been before, thanks to the Midland’s long-established tradition of catering for passenger comforts. The liveries were standardized over time, with the Derby red of the Midland being applied to all the LMS trains, the LNER retaining the handsome green engines and teak carriages of the Great Northern and the Great Western keeping its customary chocolate brown and cream. The Southern adopted an olive green livery, chosen as it blended in well with the countryside but replaced just before the outbreak of the Second World War, by the brighter (malachite) green which survived into British Railways days. Michael Bonavia fantasizes how, even after
amalgamation, a blindfolded rail enthusiast would still be able to tell each of the London termini by the various odours: ‘At Paddington, there was the smell of warm oil and steam, a faint odour of straw and also of spilt milk’ which contrasted strongly with Euston where ‘the smell of spilt milk was stronger and mixed with that of fish traffic’ and King’s Cross where ‘the acrid smell of South Yorkshire coal would afflict the nose’.15

  There were a few new services. The longest train journey in Britain could be made on a through carriage from Aberdeen to Penzance, using the lines of three out of the four companies and taking in a variety of secondary towns such as York, Leicester, Swindon and Plymouth. It must have been a tortuous experience, however, as the average speed was barely 30 mph, which meant twenty-two hours on a train with no sleeping accommodation. While few people would have actually travelled the whole distance, it was good publicity for the railway and provided a useful service for the intermediate towns, allowing connections that did not require going through London and the genesis of today’s highly successful CrossCountry services, initially developed by British Rail. While the pre-amalgamation companies had many trains which ran over another’s tracks, this now became easier as there were only four organizations involved.

  Industrial problems were never far below the surface given the rough deal the railway workers had been given in the immediate post-war period. These were, of course, revolutionary times, with events in Russia casting a shadow over domestic politics and raising fears that any industrial unrest would trigger a wider political change. There were two major rail strikes in the 1920s but the first one, in January 1924 – over cuts in drivers’ wages – was confined solely to ASLEF, the drivers’ union, with the NUR staying at work. Drivers’ pay had steadily been reduced since 1920 as the railway companies sought to improve their profitability following the agreements made during the period of government control for an eight-hour day and the consolidation of the war bonus that had put them under financial pressure. The drivers, even without the help of the NUR, were able to bring the network to a halt for ten days, but won only the small concession of having further reductions of their wages phased in rather than introduced all at once. In fact, as it turned out, this was the high point of profitability for the Big Four as they would never recover from the depression later in the decade.

  The second walk-out by railway workers, as part of the May 1926 General Strike, was a much more serious matter, as it was part of a concerted attempt by some workers to bring down the Tory government of Stanley Baldwin, although the unions distanced themselves from this revolutionary intent. Not only did Baldwin survive, but the strike had the unintended side-effect of showing that the railways were not quite as indispensable as they had been at the time of the first walk-out fifteen years previously. The strike was triggered by the action of the miners, who downed tools because of threatened wage reductions: when the mine owners locked them out, the Trades Union Congress called out workers in the key industries of the railways, docks,16 print and steel.

  The government, however, was well prepared and was quick to call on middle-class volunteers who were willing to drive buses and even trains. The transport system was largely paralysed on the first day, 3 May, but a few trains ran with fatal consequences. Four people on the LNER were killed in separate collisions at Edinburgh and Bishop’s Stortford, caused by using the old time interval system, which had been temporarily restored because so many signalmen had walked out. In another incident, an East Coast express was derailed when part of the track was uprooted after a volunteer gang had been chased away by strikers. With the moderate leaders of the TUC desperately trying to avoid the strike turning into a revolution, and the government standing firm, defeat was inevitable and after ten days the General Strike was called off. The miners held out, unsuccessfully, for several months, which caused difficulties for the railway both because of the scarcity and poor quality of the coal but also due to the loss of a key source of revenue. The road haulage industry proved to be the real beneficiary since its efforts had kept the country running to a great extent and as a result some traffic was lost to the roads for ever: ‘from the companies’ point of view, the strike had had a bad psychological effect showing people that with their railway services stopped down [sic] to a not very constant trickle, they still could survive’.17 The slight decline in this period from 1.3 billion journeys in 1923 to 1.2 billion in 1937, an 8 per cent drop,18 showed that they were starting to lose market share to the roads.

  For the most part, though, throughout the inter-war period, the railways remained the backbone of the passenger transport system. The fares were still relatively good value, and were largely based on mileage: the standard third-class single was fixed at 1½d (0.625p) per mile while first-class passengers had to pay 2½d (or just over 1p). These fares, fixed by government, remained the same throughout the 1920s and there were many concessions available such as excursions and tourist tickets. As traffic began to tail off, the railways reduced the price of return fares and extended their validity, making their use more flexible. Long-distance excursion specials, which were much cheaper than the normal services, were highly popular, enabling thousands to go not only to the seaside but also to major sporting events. For example, one of the best deals was the 25 shilling (£1.25) return trip on the LNER from London to Edinburgh to see the rugby internationals. It made for an exhausting weekend, however, with two nights sleeping on the train which was timed to leave London after a day’s work at 10 p.m. from King’s Cross, arriving in the Scottish capital at 6.30 a.m., and returning on the Saturday evening to reach London in time for the fans to attend their local church services. At the other end of the market, the LNER sold seven-day tours of Scotland for £20, travelling all the way around the Highlands and other Scottish tourist sights in a first-class sleeper.

  Contemporary photographs of railway stations show that everyone dressed smartly when they took the train. Commuters on their way to work would all wear a hat and gloves, all the year round, however hot and crowded the trains were, and even on the day excursions every man donned a tie and there is hardly an open collar in sight. Women, while not quite putting on their Sunday best, would make every effort to look respectable in their smartest coat with hat and gloves. And meals on board were not a snatched sandwich at a buffet bar, but full service affairs with all the trimmings: a ‘lavish profusion of agreeable stewards, waiters and attendants [provided] an unhurried, leisurely serving of lunch from Euston with a minimum three hours journey ahead preceded with the offer of a drink directly you sat down’.19 A typical menu in the 1920s offered on the ex-Midland trains out of St Pancras was green pea soup, boiled turbot and potatoes, roast mutton and potatoes, cauliflower and carrots, cabinet pudding (layers of bread soaked in liqueur with dried fruit and custard!) and cheese and biscuits, all for 3s 6d with coffee 4d extra. In the 1930s, the LNER restaurant cars were furnished in Louis XIV style with freestanding armchairs (banned by health and safety regulations today) and concealed lighting, while the kitchen next door was furnished with electric fridges and cookers. The LNER had inherited a tradition of fine wines from the Great Eastern, which it maintained, and provided even more luxurious accommodation in its Pullman cars. Even for passengers on the shorter trips on the Southern, there would be a freshly made pot of tea and toast for the thirty-mile dash from Waterloo down to Guildford and on services such as the Brighton Belle and the Bournemouth Belle. There was, too, the Golden Arrow, which from 1929 ran between London and Paris in just six and a half hours including a steamer crossing, and which, on both sides of the Channel, consisted of all Pullman coaches with a meal being served to every passenger.20

  Philip Unwin recalls a journey he made in 1932 as a newly married man, from Euston to Rugby on the start of his honeymoon in the Lake District, where he was served tea and toast: ‘I never forgot the pretty tea set decorated with pink roses and the charming steward,’21 but his bride must have wondered what she had let herself in for when he rather
ungallantly ‘ran up to the front of the train to inspect the engine’. On his return trip to London, he was less fortunate, missing the connection with the Irish Mail and ending up on a relief train with tea served in ‘plain white cups from a trolley on the station platform’, but he adds ‘at least they had saucers and were not made of plastic’. Relief trains were commonplace and so were Saturday-only services mostly to and from seaside destinations, aimed at catering for the ever-increasing numbers of people able to afford a trip to the coast. Travelling by rail did have its downsides since smoking was allowed everywhere except where banned. Fewer than half the compartments were non-smoking and on some trains only a third, as companies felt that smokers were in the majority.

  There was little improvement to the wartime timetable in the early days of the Big Four and it took many years for services to resume their pre-war speeds. In 1924, a detailed analysis by Cecil J. Allen22 showed that trains were taking nearly a quarter as much time again as pre-war and even by 1929 both the LNER and LMS were considerably slower. The best time from London to Manchester, for example, was still four hours and to Leeds three hours and fifty-two minutes, compared with three hours forty minutes for both pre-war. The Great Western did improve its timings but that was achieved chiefly by concentrating on its prestigious trains, rather than its expresses as a whole, and really only the Southern made all-round improvements to its services, thanks largely to electrification.