TurnipRail 2 year Anniversary - The Best of the Second Year

What a couple of years it has been. As I write, my Turnip Rail website hosts 213 posts on a range of railway history topics. However, despite what I have produced, the past year, and especially the last six months, has not been one of the easiest periods in my life. In September I began suffering from anxiety, which has affected my ability to work and, I think, the quality of my output. I also broke my toe around the same time - which I'll only say was annoying. Gladly, both these problems are mostly resolved. Nevertheless, in the last couple of months I have gone through a process of a work restructure. Therefore, I have been made redundant and will have to re-interview for a job in the coming months. Consequently, combined with an increasing work-load from my PhD (which has until late September to be submitted) I have been reduced to doing a post a week.

Despite these things, I hope I have turned out posts which you have found entertaining and interesting. I have certainly enjoyed researching and writing them. So, in this anniversary post I have randomly chosen some of my favourites from the past year. 

1. “When Victorian Beer Trains Crash” – In some sense, this post from April explored the link between the railways and the brewing industry.  Indeed, I looked at some of the interesting ways that crashed beer trains were reported. I was unsurprised that the newspaper reports always seemed to have humorous remarks, this being the funniest:  “Alcohol can thus baffle her Majesty’s mail as well as her Majesty’s Government.”[1] However, what was particularly interesting was that the majority of the accidents I found befell Midland Railway trains coming from Burton. This was logical though, Burton being the centre of the Victorian brewing industry.

2. “The York Tap - A piece of railway heritage restored”– OK, this is another beer-related post, but in a different way. A trip to York in early December meant I had the pleasure of going into the York Tap, a pub sited on the York Station platform. In the post I described how the building the Tap inhabits was opened in 1907 as the station’s tea room, and its recent conversion to a pub restored the building to its former glory. I love the Tap and would recommend a visit to anyone.

3. “Unlocking the Early Railway Manager – Parts 1, 2, 3 and 4” (The link is to Part One) – Using three directories of railway officials from 1841, 1847 and 1848, these four articles sought to investigate the validity of a long-held belief that early railway managers were mainly ex-military men, as well as look at early managers generally. However, rather than presenting four finished pieces of research as I normally do in posts, I set out to describe how this investigation progressed over the period of a few weeks. The results were startling and should change the content of railway history books in the future. Firstly, I concluded that ‘the notion that military men were the driving force in early railway management is erroneous,’ given that they constituted a tiny proportion of all railway managers. Secondly, in 1848 the three great engineers of the period, Brunel, Locke and Stephenson, directly controlled  the engineering affairs of 28.81% of Britain’s railway companies. Yet, even more impressively, engineering matters for 59.13% of all Britain’s total railway mileage was under their collective charge. These are important findings and I would like to do much more work on this subject in the future.

4. “A New High-Speed Line, an Old Victorian Assumption?”– I got some interesting reactions to this post which simply highlighted something I observed. The building of Britain’s second high-speed line (HS2) was being promoted by its supporters as adding capacity to the railway network, as the number of passengers using the railways is predicted to massively grow in the future. I suggested that if you talked to any railway manager before 1900 they too would have said that traffic growth was inevitable. Yet, the expected growth didn’t occur, and after 1900 the number of passengers using the railways levelled off and then began falling. All I did was compare the two situations, observing that this part of railway history shows us that passenger traffic growth can be hard to predict. I will state this now, I did not post this because I necessarily oppose HS2; I posted it only as a consideration. I will not reveal my position on HS2, because I don't think getting political is what my blog is about.

5. “‘Crabbed, morose and irritable’ - One Liverpool Man's Complaints Against the L&NWR in 1867” – This was a post that discussed of six long letters that ‘A CONTRACTOR’ wrote to the Liverpool Mercury in 1867 complaining about the station facilities of the London and North Western Railway. The station that received the most criticism was at Huyton Quarry, which he argued ‘might be a station in Chancery, so out-of-elbows does it look, or belong to some bankrupt company, who could not afford a few pounds to put in a tolerably descent condition.’[2] Generally, these letters were just interesting insights into how the public felt about railway managers at the time and the services they received.

6. Lastly, I have done three posts this year about the first sixteen female clerks to be employed at the London and North Western Railway’s Birmingham Curzon Street Station between 1874 and 1876. The first in August looked at how the company’s decision was reported in the press. Indeed, the newspapers detailed the basic facts of their employment, for example, whose decision it was, the company’s attitude, their working environment and their pay. However, on Ancestry.co.uk releasing digitised railway staff records, I was able to look these women up and do some detailed statistical analysis of their employment. In two following posts (HERE and HERE) I examined the women’s ages, promotional prospects, length of employment and pay. Indeed, on this latter point I found that up until their eighth year they received the same pay as the men, at which point it was curtailed. This was a very interesting finding, showing that the newspapers at the time were wrong when they said that the employment female clerks was immediately going to reduce company costs.

Overall, I cannot say these were my absolute favourite posts, yet, they are definitely near the top. I strive hard in my blog to pass on entertaining and interesting pieces of railway history, things I find, and elements of my PhD. In return I have received a lot of love, complementary comments and warmth. I just want to thank all my readers so much for your support this year. My blog wouldn't have been a success without you all reading, re-tweeting and re-posting, and for that I am eternally grateful.

-----------

[1] Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper, Sunday, August 10, 1873; Issue 1603

[2] Liverpool Mercury, Tuesday, November 12, 1867; Issue 6175

The York Tap - A peice of railway heritage restored

As some of you may be aware, last week I went on a short holiday to York. I love York so much. It is a place where there is great things to do, plenty of pubs and, of course, the National Railway Museum. However, this visit was enhanced by a recent addition to this wonderful city, namely, the York Tap. For those of you unfamiliar with the Tap, this is a new pub which opened on the 16 November at the station. Situated next to the platform, this establishment boasts 32 taps on the bar and somewhere between 80 and 100 bottled beers. Indeed, possessing such a range of beer puts it solidly in my top three drinking establishments in York (and believe me, this is a constant battle in my head) and it will not surprise anyone that during my three day visit, I popped into the Tap twice.

For most of the last quarter of a century the building which houses the Tap was home to the ‘York Model Railway,’ a small, much overlooked, attraction. Yet, in early 2011 it decided to move to a site in Lincolnshire and it was at this point that Pivovar, owner of the Euston and Sheffield Taps, as well as Pivni in York city centre, moved in. The decision by East Coast, the Train Operating Company that manages York Station, to allow Pivovar to inhabit the building was important for railway heritage. The building is Grade II listed and as such special care had to be taken with it. Indeed, the process of renovating and revealing the neglected interior cost £250,000, including a contribution of £75,000 from the Railway Heritage Trust.[1]

This money was clearly worth it, and entering the building is a bit like going back in time. Never, in all my drinking days have I experience a pub which satisfies two of my loves: railway history and good ale. Thus, after my visits I began thinking about the history of the Tap building and was resolved to investigate. Much to my surprise, after only a short period of digging I found an article in The British Architect describing the building’s construction and interior.

The building that the Tap uses was originally opened in February 1907 by the North Eastern Railway (NER) as the station’s tea room. It seems that around the same time the NER may have been in the process of expanding tea rooms facilities at its large stations, as the article on the York establishment was accompanied by another describing a new tea room at Hull (now a Pumpkin Café). Indeed, the Hull and York tea rooms, as well as their interiors and furniture, were both designed in an art-nouveau style by Mr W. Bell F.R.I.B.A., the company’s architect.

The British Architect indicates that many of the features of the tea room have been restored in the Tap. The floor space was 2,500 square feet and, like at present, there were two doors, one facing the city and another opening onto the station platform. These two entrances were situated so that ‘the ordinary public, as well as passengers, may use the room.’ The only difference was that the room originally possessed ‘draught-proof’ revolving doors, whereas currently the Tap has regular ones.

The building's design was originally governed by the position of the pre-existing roof columns and spandrils. Indeed, these were incorporated into the tea room, with fretwork added to the columns to hide the fact that they were part of the station’s main structure. Furthermore, the joy with the current interior is that the colours are very similar to those adopted in 1907. The walls were ‘finished in crimson,’ the ceiling was cream and the woodwork was white. The furniture and counter were executed in ‘dark mahogany,’ and the floor, which remains to this day, was a mosaic with an ornamental border. The only significant departures in the Tap from the 1907 features is that the counter and furniture are in different positions and are of a different design, and there is an absence of floor rugs (as shown in the pictures). Nevertheless, what has been accomplished when sitting in the Tap today is a wonderful sense of history and nostalgia.

Lastly, a nod should go to those who created the structure in 1907. The contractors for its building were Messrs Blackett and Son of Greencroft East, Darlington, and the instillation of the mosaic's terrazzo paving was entrusted to Messrs Diespeker of 60 Holborn Viaduct, London.[2]

Overall, what has been restored at the York Tap is not just the fact that the building is again quenching the thirsts of passengers. By the early twentieth century, class distinctions in station waiting and refreshment rooms had been mostly abandoned across the railway industry and, thus, the NER created a facility worthy of both first and third class passengers. Therefore, what Pivovar have recreated within the York Tap is an example of the railway refreshment room’s last stage of development before the First World War, a period when passenger travel was at its most comfortable. Indeed, for this act of preserving railway history (combined with providing copious amounts of beer), I cannot heap on them enough praise.

Visit the York Tap’s website HERE

------

[1] http://www.yorkpress.co.uk/news/9366138.New_pub_taps_into_the_real_ale_market

[2] The British Architect, 27 February 1907, p.127

Conferences, Academics and Railways...a busy week

Well I has been a very busy week. I attended an academic conference on Tuesday and Wednesday, at which I talked about railways, and then on Thursday I took a trip to York to see my supervisor who is based at the National Railway Museum. In these few days of activity I used, touched, caressed and talked about Britain's railways almost constantly. In fact, everywhere I have gone has meant that I have been in contact with railways in some way, shape or form. While far from a terrible thing, I suppose this is my own fault having supplemented my 'enthusiast' interest in railways with an academic one. Indeed, I find increasingly that my academic interest has usurped the enthusiast perspectives I used to take. This hasn't however diminished how the railways have affected my life and I find that they consume my mind in even more ways than I could have ever thought possible.

Predictably the story always starts with a journey 'riding the rails.' Interestingly, this week I have travelled the Hampton Court to London Waterloo journey on three occasions at different times of the day, early morning, rush hour and late morning. On the flip side I have got the exact same train back home each time. Thinking about the outward journey it is not really surprising that you get a different breed of traveller on each of the different trains. The 6.24 train from Hampton Court on day 3 of 3 was not, as may be expected, completely filled with business people. They made up the bulk of the travellers, but woven amongst them were a number of others laden with bags that looked as they required heavy lifting gear to be moved. I suppose they were heading for the slightly ambiguously named 'London Terminals' departing for northern or western climbs on holiday. The slightly later train that I caught on day 2, the 7.54, was as expected filled with men in suits and women in more varied attire. It is an injustice in this world that men essentially have to wear a uniform to work, whereas women feel far more pressure to wear make-up, have different clothes each day and invest far more in their appearance than their male counterparts. But I digress. The train I caught on the first day, the 10.24, was probably the most pleasant by virtue of the fact there was more space to spread out. Those individuals on their way into London at this time were an odd bunch, comprised of students, day-trippers, the late businesspeople (some of which I suspect were hungover). Evidently, London draws in its stragglers after 10 am.

While I went through the usual sweat, sweat and tears (stuck under someone armpit) on the tube all of the days, I had the joy of travelling to York by 'East Coast' on the last (York Station Shown). For all of you who are regular followers of my blog, you will know that some months ago I had a right-royal rant at First Great Western, who failed to provide me with a first class service even when I was residing in a first class carriage. Even though I didn't experience East Coast's First Class accommodation on Thursday, a glance through the window of the carriages proved to me that my assertions about the company's elite services were correct. There were cups and saucers on tables, newspapers ready to be read, and table cloths on standby to absorb the inevitable spillages. As I passed I lamented the fact that FGW had a long way to go and my mind questioned how such two companies can have two widely differing services even when they call them the same thing. Alas, I fear that is how my mind works now. I suspect everything railway-related is dissected as part of a construct of factors, policy decisions and balance sheets. And so, with those thoughts, I settled in my seat in standard accommodation and had a pleasant, but uneventful, journey to York.

It was on the way back that I realised just why sometimes encountering the travelling public is a trial. I should specify at this point that I journeyed to York with my model railway club colleague Richard. On arriving at out allotted seats to journey south we realised that firstly we were booked at a table, but also that we sitting diagonally from each other. As we sorted ourselves out a woman who was booked to sit next to us piped up, “er...have you young gentlemen got seat reservations?,” in a tone that betrayed the fact that she evidently believed we were 'stealing seats.' We replied we did and Richard sat down. The woman looked disgruntled, but went to sit next to her friend who had secured two seats next to each other that weren't booked up. I suppose there will always be an element of society that will always naturally distrust youth, (even though I am at the tender age of 28), and while Richard an I had consumed a few beers, we were polite and sensible. I suppose that is the problem with being in an enclosed space, people become protective, even territorial, about the space they have been assigned and it is at social flashpoints such as these that their prejudices come out.

Moving on, I should say that it was in York that I had the reality of my 'railway-filled' life brought home to me. My department, the grandly named 'Institute of Railway Studies and Transport History,' is housed in a rather ramshackle building next to the National Railway Museum. It is there that I have to go to meet Colin, my supervisor, roughly every two months for supervision sessions. It is for this reason that I am not really that excited by the museum or its contents any more, its all old hat as I have passed through it so many times in the last four years. The only discoveries I usually make are related to which parts of Flying Scotsman are strewn about the workshop. However, Richard's reaction was somewhat different considering it had been close to a decade since he had been to the museum. He was interested in everything and eager to see all. He was like an excited puppy who loved trains. I find this sad as it means I have been immunised against the joy of being interested in railways simply for the sake of it. I no longer see the objects of the industry as the sole interest, and in my mind frame every signal, every carriage, every locomotive as part of a process of management decisions. The physical objects associated with railway operation are now imbued with greater meaning, but diminished joy.

This is because of my academic life that has evolved since 2006. Part of this life occurred on Tuesday and Wednesday as I attended at the Institute of Historical Research's postgraduate student conference at Senate House near Russell Square. The conference title was, 'Politics and Power.' On the first day I volunteered to chair a panel of historians who presented papers on 'Print Culture Politics and Texts'. OK, I confess I know nothing about this subject, but it was very interesting all the same and I think I did well in the chair. Further, the day was peppered with papers on a range of interesting subjects regarding politics, as well as enough sandwiches to feed a small country. Throughout I answered the usual question I get, “so, what are you studying?” It is one of the strange and wonderful things about my own topic that people can relate to it easily. When I am asked about my PhD, my response almost always triggers from the questioner an anecdote, family story or opinion regarding the railways. This, I think, is a wonderful thing and stems from the fact that railways are something that everyone has to relate to, ride on and struggle with. Therefore, it was on the first day of the conference that everyone (who didn't know before) learnt what I was doing and subsequently I took joy in the universal appeal of my PhD.

It was on the second day that I had the highlight of the week. After another day of very interesting papers on politics, there, located at the end of the conference schedule, was my contribution. (In the picture above I am on the far right. Also on the Panel was Dr Helen Glew and the Chair was Peter Sutton) My paper was titled 'Moving a Locomotive Works: Politics, Agency and Decision-Making within a Nineteenth Century Railway Company,' a sample of which was featured in my last blog post. I have found that a feature of giving a paper is that the expressions of your audience do not change, that is unless a joke is cracked. I suppose if they were changing their expressions regularly it might indicate that they weren't listening and by default that what you are saying was duller than a paint-drying conference, or that they didn't like what you were presenting. But, having only ever presented three papers, the experience of unchanging faces is still somewhat unnerving for me. This said, I am sure I will get used to it. The paper tracked the London South Western Railway's plans to move its locomotive, carriage and wagon works to somewhere 'in the country,' and how the different managers engaged in internal politics to stop this happening.

Why was this the high point for me? I discussed how the joy I took in the physical objects of railway operation has diminished, and how I tend to view every object as part of a management process. But then again, when thinking back on the paper I presented, there is a new joy that I now have with regard to railways. Simply put, I love that my understanding of Britain's railways is more complex than the simplistic 'object-by-object' view. I now intimately understand why Britain's railways are the way the are and have a deeper understanding of the processes of their construction and operation. Therefore, it isn't a bad thing that I am consumed by railways, as those aspects of Britain's railways that previously gave me joy have passed, being replaced by a whole new set of wonders.