Two Plus Two
The Peak District rail accidents of 1867
By Tony Whittaker
If you lived in Chapel, Chinley, Bugsworth, or Furness Vale, and were looking over at the Midland Railway’s new main line to Manchester one teatime on a September day in 1867, you might have been surprised to see a freight train moving surprisingly fast, without an engine. It might not have seemed completely unusual, for you would surely have been familiar with the little wagons on the old Peak Forest Tramway happily proceeding downhill by gravity alone as they took limestone to Bugsworth canal basin every day. Furness Vale residents in particular would have a panoramic view of an unfolding tragedy across the valley, and see (and hear) a massive train pileup close to where the New Mills Co-op is now situated.
The shocking events of late afternoon on Monday 9 September 1867, were in fact two linked rail crashes and two runaways, a runaway train from the first crash causing the second. They took place over an 8-mile stretch of line, which has a relatively steep prevailing gradient, much of it around 1 in 90, bad news for any runaway train. Although syndicated newspaper stories from the time (and it was widely covered nationally) covered the main events and the inquest reports, they were maybe not written by reporters with local or railway knowledge. Inevitably, they contain small discrepancies. Now that the Board of Trade inquiry by Lieut-Col F H Rich R.E., is digitised, we can get a clearer and official picture of the events and failures.(For many years, British Army Royal Engineers officers with railway experience led rail accident investigations.) This report was not available to Steve Lewis for his shorter write up of the story on the New Mills history website. Also useful are accurate transcriptions of inquest witness statements from the main players in the story.
Dove Holes Tunnel is the location for the story’s first tragedy. This 2984 yard double-track tunnel, about 1000 feet above sea level, took the Midland Main Line from Manchester to London under the hills at the highest point of its route, and was at this time the highest mainline tunnel in England. It was bored through rock on the border of the Dark Peak’s millstone and the White Peak’s softer limestone. And seeping rainwater, especially peaty acidic water, dissolves limestone. Imagine, if you will, a block of solid cement slowly turning into a block of cracked wet cheese, full of holes, crevices and passages. The tunnel was a nightmare to build, needing multiple pumps to remove the constant ingress of water during the five years of construction. The Rail Engineer website observes that the tunnel “…saw off several contractors in its construction. The discovery of three subterranean rivers just about put the tin lid on everything. Dove Holes tunnel is synonymous with water… [it] floods and at times the flooding is spectacular.” The tunnel has since been a constant maintenance challenge. A large drain was built between the tracks, but this easily blocked up with slimy limestone slurry, forcing the water to drain away on at track level, often taking ballast with it. There have been collapses of the tunnel lining and surrounding rock sometimes leading to prolonged closure, in 1872 and 1940. Other engineering possessions were not unusual. I can recall, as a child in the mid 1950s, returning from Derby to New Mills; our weekend train was diverted via Buxton and down the other (LNWR) line to Manchester, depositing us at New Mills Newtown station instead of Central.And for steam crews going south, particularly on freight trains, the experience was challenging. If several freight trains had been held in loops to follow a faster passenger service, they each had to restart on a 1 in 90 upwards gradient, then retain traction on the same gradient in the tunnel on wet rails, yet avoiding wheelslip and snatching on the couplings. The accumulated smoke was dreadful for crews particularly on the second or third freight in succession, they could “cut the smoke with a knife” it was so thick. Dangerously large icicles in winter or heat in summer added to the problems.
The day’s chain of
calamity began when a ballast train with nine wagons and brake van left Chapel
Central Station at about 5.25pm. In the brake van were most of a team of 36
contractors to spread the ballast (the small
stones that hold the track in place), plus Martha Vaines, almost 12
and daughter of a blacksmith living at Hallsteads Row, Dove Holes, who had
arrived at about 5.15pm at Chapel station (not Bugsworth as some newspapers
reported) to find she had missed her train to Peak Forest Station. She was
born in Ashover to Samuel and Frances; he was probably a blacksmith for the
limestone industry. Martha was possibly the eldest of three siblings at home,
her older sister Elizabeth having died in 1864. There were two or three older
siblings. And tragically, her mother Frances had died in January 1865, so we
can guess that Martha may have been something of a surrogate mum to her two
younger siblings Hannah and Walter. Her visit to Chapel might have been a part
of these family duties. Yet tragedy was to strike this family for a third time.
That it could so easily have been avoided adds to the poignance.
It was at Chapel that mistakes started to accumulate. The ballast train, with contractor’s employees rather than railway staff, appears to have been waiting in Chapel station yard for some time, sufficient for the engine fireman to absent himself to visit a pub. Chapel yard was probably used for such maintenance trains, with trucks being replenished with local limestone ballast, and motive power supplied by an engine from Buxton (Midland Railway) shed. The fireman had not returned when it was time for the ballast train to depart the short distance to Dove Holes tunnel, and the train left Chapel without him. The flagman also appeared to have been drinking, but was present. The guard strangely travelled on the footplate rather than in his admittedly crowded van.. Both he and the ganger of the ballast train were apparently advised while at Chapel that as there was a cattle train following, their procedure would be to proceed through the tunnel to Peak Forest station about 4 miles away (where Martha could incidentally safely leave the train), reverse onto the down line, and re-enter the tunnel.
A cattle train
would have higher priority than normal freight, travelling on a faster schedule
which should not be un-necessarily delayed. If this was not a daily working,
signal boxes along the route would have been advised by paper notification
distributed early in the day by train, or via the ‘speaking telegraph’. Double
heading would give the cattle train more speed and when needed, more braking
power. As the livestock was heading for Birmingham it was surely going for
slaughter. That it originated in Liverpool suggests the animals may have been
imported through the port. Imported animals had to be quarantined and
slaughtered within 14 days to avoid disease spreading to domestic herds, and UK
needed considerable imports of meat at the time. Most of the drovers on this
train lived in Birmingham, and after their trip to Liverpool, could expect to
be home that evening, after unloading the cattle into holding pens at a MR
goods yard in Birmingham (perhaps Camp Hill).
We can assume that extra tunnel ballast was needed after recent water damage. The practice would have been to unload the ballast into the six-footgap between the tracks, and the gang would likely remain in the tunnel when evening trains were less frequent, to spread the ballast. The empty ballast train would exit the tunnel, wait at Peak Forest and return later to collect the gang and take them back to Chapel yard. This ballasting trip was likely a regular evening job for the gang to repair water damage, scheduled at a time when the line was less busy. The ballast trucks of the time would be shallow flatbed wagons with side doors, rather than side-tippers, with ‘dumb’ wooden buffers rather than sprung. Respect is due to these men who were prepared to work in near darkness and smoky wet conditions, on an open main line with only tunnel refuge bays to shelter in when a train came past.
So, the ballast train proceeded into the 1.7-mile twin-track tunnel, and presumably found a marker indicating the location for the ballast drop, which was two-thirds of the way through the tunnel.
The time must have been around 5.40pm. Martha would have to wait on her own in the brake van, with just an oil-lamp for company. The gang will have needed good oil-lamps to work in the tunnel. At this point, as laid down by therailway rulebook of the time, the guard (or the flagman on his instruction) should have proceeded 800 yards down the line, and then back to 400 yards, to protect his train by setting warning detonators at both locations. (These were like large gunpowder caps which went off with a loud bang when a train passed over them.) This backup safety procedure did not happen, yet could have prevented the accident. But corners were cut, and the time and effort involved in setting, and then retrieving, detonators must have been deemed un-necessary and time-wasting, as was the ignoring of the advice to proceed to Peak Forest and then reverse onto the down line. That could have easily added half an hour to the job. And they knew from experience that 36 men could unload 9 wagons in only a few minutes, leaving the train to proceed empty to Peak Forest. The cattle train could wait if necessary, and they’d certainly be out of the way before 5.23 from Manchester. Their train would be protected by normal signalling practice.
The next series of errors were also human, possibly happening more easily because the Midland Railway (not always early adopters) had, although installing ‘block signalling’ equipment, used an older obsolescent type of communication between signal boxes (aka’box’). Although named ‘speaking telegraph’, this sending equipment sent a pulse of current down the wire which flicked a telegraph needle on the recipient’s equipment. It took several flicks of the needle, which could be left or right, to code for a letter of the alphabet. There was no system of bell codes as such, though power for the needle would also ring an alerting bell. Left-flick of the needle would create one sound, right-flick a higher note, so the experienced user could hear the letters as a ‘tune’ rather than having to watch and count the needle movements. When a signalman* had accepted a train into his section, he would ‘pin’, ie immobilise, the telegraph needle with a handle, to indicate that no other train be accepted until the first train had moved to the next block section. (This was a few years before telephones began to be installed, providing signal boxes, stations, and the control office with speech communication.)
The expected cattle train train from Liverpool to Birmingham consisted of 27 cattle wagons loaded with 1000 head of sheep and cows, a third-class carriage for cattle drovers, and a brake van. The carriage must have been similar to the 1868 example preserved at Butterley. It has wooden bench seats and four doors on each side. These had no compartment divisions going up to the roof, so the drovers could spread out, but all still talk together.
This train was stopped and held at Chapel Station while the signalman telegraphed Peak Forest box to get clearance to send it on. At this moment, unfortunately and bizarrely, the Peak Forest signalman Knight had been sent by the stationmaster to take a message to the nearby lime works, and then had a cup of tea with the stationmaster before returning to his signal box 15 minutes later. Knight had only been in post a month, and was previously a house servant. His minimal signalling instruction was by observation in two signal boxes further up the line, and his inspection test for approval had shown up two mistakes. Now on his return from the errand, he misinterpreted needle tremor sent by Chapel box on his speaking telegraph, having missed part of the message. And the Chapel box signalman misinterpreted his reply to signify ‘line clear’, even though he did not actually receive
(or acknowledge) a line clear confirmation. Since Knight had already accepted the ballast train into his section, his apparent failure to wonder where it was now, demonstrates breath-taking incompetence.
So, the double-headed cattle train was wrongly given a clear signal to leave Chapel station and climb up Chapel Bank towards Dove Holes Tunnel. It entered Dove Holes Tunnel at some 15mph, and after about a mile, collided with the brake van of the stationary ballast train only five minutes after that had stopped. It was around 5.45pm. We can assume that the driver of the lead locomotive had no warning and probably saw nothing, because in a tunnel it is virtually impossible to see ahead due to smoke, and there is no point in attempting to do so most of the time. The gangers and train crew themselves would have heard the shocking sound of an approaching train, and had time to try to move to a place of safety. Poor Martha lacked that opportunity, and was crushed within the brake van. It is especially poignant that the tunnel is only about 60ft below Dove Holes village, and the point of the accident was almost directly below the location of the family home in Hallsteads Row. In those last moments, we can only hope that Martha did not realise that the noise in the tunnel represented any threat to her.
Two ballast trucks were also completely destroyed. Three other ballast trucks were derailed, and the shockwave decoupled the locomotive from the first truck. Three or four of the ballast gang were slightly injured; the rest along with guard and driver, were unhurt. The drovers in the coach were unhurt at this time, though we can assume that standing cattle and sheep could well have been easily injured, certainly traumatised. The noise of impact, buffers clashing, the bellowing and bleating of animals, the dust and confusion in a confined space, must have seemed like Armageddon.
With the two locomotives of the cattle train suddenly halted by collision with the ballast train, the following cattle trucks would continue under their own momentum, with their buffers hitting each other and compressing their springs (if they had sprung buffers), and pushing the locomotives forward. (Sprung buffers for freight vehicles were being used from the 1850-60s and for animal wellbeing, presumably cattle trucks were early recipients.) This surge may have caused the derailment of the two locos, if they had not already derailed at first impact. In all events, the coupling from the first cattle truck to the engine split. Then, as the buffer springs expanded again, they pushed the now uncoupled train back down the gradient in the dark tunnel. It would have taken several minutes to reach the tunnel mouth, no doubt the guard had applied the brake van’s handbrake, but that could not significantly slow the rest of the train on such a gradient. As soon as the train emerged from the tunnel, the guard and four of the drovers (perhaps at his shouted instruction – the drover’s coach appears to have been next to the brake van) jumped clear of the train with little injury. Most were Birmingham residents, one was from Nottingham. The train’s two drivers and firemen, left in the tunnel, were happily also uninjured. Probably the guard and drovers made their way slowly down the track to Chapel station, when they felt up to it. But the scene in the tunnel can only be imagined. Darkness, dust, shouting. The shaken crew from the two cattle-train locomotives would begin to piece together what had happened, helplessly see the rest of their train rolling away down the tunnel, discover with horror that somewhere under the wreckage of the brake van there was a young
girl. By now, the two locomotives, with strong fires to sustain the steam output needed for the climb, would be letting off surplus steam with a deafening hiss. (The same thing, incidentally, that happened when Titanic made an emergency halt.) The crews must have done what they could to damp down and drop the fires and use the injectors to fill up the boilers with cold water. After recriminations and emotions strongly verbalised or bottled up, and discovering there was nothing to be done for Martha, the 42 men must have found whatever lights had survived or were on the locomotives, and begun to walk the half mile towards the small circle of light of the nearest tunnel mouth. The crash had been heard by….. and no doubt Peak Forest would soon send an accident report to Buxton and Derby and salvage crews would soon be despatched.
Meanwhile, a few minutes after the collision, the runaway cattle train was approaching Chapel station at about 30mph. The signalman, in the box near the station, would have received no warning and must have stared with growing shock and realisation. He testified later to having no time to switch the runaway onto the down line; this was probably the last opportunity to switch tracks, given its increasing speed. He did not testify to sending any message of warning to the next box, but bizarrely claimed in the inquest to have set off running over the fields to Bugsworth box to warn them, unsurprisingly arriving far too late. (It was three miles on the railway track, less than two miles along hilly lanes and footpaths. It would take a fit man 20 minutes. Was this statement an attempt to somehow make up for his sloppy signalling?) Commendably, the Bugsworth signaller, even if he had not received a message from Chinley, knew what to do as soon as he saw the cattle train and sent the runaway warning through to New Mills just in time.
The remaining four drovers on board must have been terrified. They may have thought their compatriots had been foolhardy to jump earlier near the tunnel, at a train speed of around 30mph, and perhaps expected the train would soon run out of momentum. Sadly, they did not know the gradient profile, and before long they would be travelling at 60mph in a shaking four-wheel coach. At least two of the drovers were seen at New Mills hanging out of the coach as if to jump if there was an opportunity, but none attempted it.
Mercifully, the
runaway train alert from Bugsworth box reached New Mills East box (opposite
the goods shed on Church Rd) just in time for action. (Speaking
telegraph messages took longer to send than the runaway bell code system that
replaced them on later block instruments.) The 5.23pm express passenger
train from Manchester London Rd Station had just passed New Mills Central
station. It was quite short, made up of a van, three coaches (probably 6-wheel
coaches, no British railway used bogie coaches at the time, and the MR would be
the first to do so), and a second van. Doubtless there were two composite
coaches containing first second and third class compartments, and a brake
composite (though within a few years, the Midland would be the first to abolish
2ndclass, and offer
only two classes of travel. The 5.23 was the close equivalent to the popular
5.22 fast commuter train from Manchester Central to Buxton, with limited stops
at Cheadle Heath, Chinley, Chapel and Peak Forest, which was well-known for
remained steam-hauled to the end of steam, along with the equivalent 8am
service from Buxton. It was quicker for Buxton residents to reach Manchester
than using the old LNW service stopping at every station on the line, so much
so that there was serious consideration given to offering a similar service
only a few years ago. As this 1867 train started from Buxton each morning, it
was in the hands of Driver Edward Cooper of Buxton.
The 5.23 must have
been offered by New Mills Station box and accepted by East box (described as
Terrace Bridge Box in some news accounts), just before the runaway warning
had been received at East box. The East signaller would have rushed to throw
the signal next to the box to danger. The track from the station is on a curve
with a speed restriction, and this signal would not be easily visible until the
train was approaching Church Rd road-bridge. The signalman likely used a red
flag from the box balcony for added attention. Either the signal or any red
flag may have been visible through the second arch of Church Rd bridge; and the
driver appears to have achieved an emergency stop close to the bridge. It would
have been very unusual for a passenger train to be halted at this
location. The 5.23pm express, if on time, would have arrived here at about
5.55pm.
After the 5.23 halted, the guard and fireman hurried towards the signalbox to inquire about the unexpected stoppage, with the red flag an additional concern. New Mills goods station manager George Lofts (although described at the inquest as stationmaster) was already back home at Beard Terrace, a short terrace of houses on the corner of Hyde Bank Rd and Church Rd opposite the goods station.
Beard Terrace was part of a railway complex with staff houses and stables for the goods station delivery horses. Lofts had seen the express suddenly stop in an unusual location, and “walked down the bank” to investigate. All these men’s accounts imply that the train had stopped well short of the signal and signal box.
The runaway cattle
train which started its backwards journey at about 5.45pm, would have passed
Bugsworth box at around 5.55pm, and be in New Mills about three minutes later.
The railwaymen from the 5.23 later testified to seeing the runaway train coming
“round the curve”. This strongly suggests that both they and the express train
locomotive were located near to Church Rd over-bridge, 250 yards away from the
box and its stop signal. Had the train halted next to the box, they would have had a
clearer view of the runaway train on the virtually straight track coming down
from Bugsworth; there would be no curve. The driver, Edward Cooper of Buxton,
had remained in his cab but the other train crew likely ran back to Driver
Cooper with the news, and with Manager Lofts, were standing close to the
engine. Of course, no one could know details of the runaway train, its speed,
or perhaps even which line it was on, until it came into view. The runaway
might only have been a single brake van or rogue wagon, moving slowly on the
other line. At the speed the runaway was travelling, they would not need to
wait long to find out. At the speed the runaway was travelling, there may have
been only two or three minutes from East box receiving the message till the
runaway arrived in New Mills. Half of that time could easily have elapsed by
the time the passenger train had stopped and train crew spoken to the
signaller. So the four men may have only had moments to
consider options and watch the track, till they saw and heard with horror their
worst fear – a long freight train travelling at 50 to 60mph, on their own line.
The fireman, signalman, guard and goods manager quickly moved to a place of
relative safety. Driver Cooper initiated a plan the men may have discussed, and
that he had likely already just prepared for by already taking off the brakes
and putting the engine gear into reverse. So all he needed was to open the
regulator and once moving, jump off the footplate. The passenger train had only
reversed about 10 yards (40 in another account) when its engine was
struck by the runaway’s brake van. Remarkably, engine and coaches remained on
the track, with the locomotive taking the brunt of an impact which might have
derailed or crushed an unprotected coach. Without warning, the passengers would
experience ahuge jolt as the
passenger train suddenly speeded up. Unfortunately, after jumping, driver
Cooper was caught up in the disintegrating vans and buried in debris. He was
rescued and though injured, happily recovered. The signal box was partly demolished
by disintegrating trucks, presumably those from the back of the runaway train;
the signalman and his small daughter (having tea with him in the box)
escaped injury.
Site of the crash in New Mills
The pileup of the
cattle trucks was horrendous. Animals were thrown out, three of the drovers who
had not chosen to jump earlier died almost immediately, and a fourth injured so
seriously he was to die soon after. They were Edward Chambers, Robert Hemus,
John Wheeler all of Birmingham and an unidentified man assumed to be John
Jones.
The sound of the crash would have been heard all over town and well beyond, and it would surely echo around the hills. The long drawn-out scream of metal on metal, splintering wood, wagons falling, animals in panic, could have lasted for perhaps 20 seconds or more. Clouds of dust would take many minutes to clear, and would have been clearly visible from a distance. Residents from almost every house would open doors and windows, look out, and many run to see what had happened. Down High St, Hydebank Rd, Church Rd, from Newtown and every direction, crowds would converge on the scene. Perhaps most of New Mill’s 2,000 population would arrive at some point that evening, with more from surrounding villages. The local police from their station in Market St would be a calming presence; doctors, railway employees and willing hands would work to locate the injured driver and look for survivors from the coach. Any surviving unscathed animals
would need rounding up and tethering. One abiding memory for the onlookers must have been the abattoir-like smell from the dead animals and their blood. The only graphical representation of the crash, a wood engraving which appeared in the Illustrated London News was based on a sketch of the scene by eyewitness Mr J H W Biggs, a member of the Royal Meteorology Society. It shows the later recovery of wrecked cattle trucks and dead animals lying on the railway track next to Church Rd bridge. We can see the bonfires lit to light the recovery work, which are referred to in newspaper reports. Salvage teams from Stockport or Manchester will have been despatched after, we assume, New Mills sent a ‘speaking telegraph’ accident report. The engraving shows hundreds of spectators, still watching into the night. Many watch from the bank below the later site of Midland Terrace, others are on the road bridge. Apparently one of the tracks was usable by the next day! If your great-grandparents or other relatives lived in or near New Mills during 1867, they were maybe in those crowds. Other railway workers would work through the night
in Dove Holes
tunnel, without onlookers, re-railing three locomotives and clearing the debris
of broken vehicles.
Meanwhile, at around 6.10-6.15pm, there now is a new wrong-line runaway train on the move (that is, going backwards towards Manchester on the wrong, ‘up’ track). Happily, its speed was not excessive, and the New Mills Station box was able to send a runaway alert to Marple box, where they were able to switch the train over to the down line. It slowly lost momentum and came to a halt on a rising gradient near Romiley, passengers shocked but unhurt. The witness statements from both inquests are revealing, and will have informed Lieut-Col Rich’s investigations, guiding his later expert questioning and clear suspicions. As ever, key witnesses were trying to downplay any mistakes they had made, deny they had made any, or shift blame. For example Chapel stationmaster Arthur Tillson claimed he did see Martha’s arrival at the station about 5.15pm, but did not authorise her to take the ballast train, and did not see her get into it. Because, of course, he was on the other platform. Another witness, ganger Tooth, had no idea how the “girl had got into the brake[van]” or that she was even there. And once the train had stopped in the tunnel, he had “despatched the flagman to go to the end of the tunnel”. (As unloading doubtless commenced immediately, the flagman should anyway have been on lookout duty to protect the gang, giving a horn signal for any approaching train.) Key witnesses were making statements like this under oath, at variance to Rich’s later conclusions. They were lucky that the inquests ruled ‘accidental death’, or some could have been taken to court.
Lieut-Col Rich’s Rail Accident Report, completed in little over four weeks after the incidents, was scathing in his recommendations and analysis. He clearly stated that all those involved with the ballast train, and some others, colluded in lying, and he said it was only the involvement of Superintendent Hudson of Chapel police that help him extract anything like the truth. He highlighted the irregular slack working culture at Chapel which the Midland Railway seemed unaware of. He strongly deprecated the use of contractors to maintain safety-critical railway tracks. He comment on the lack of brake power for the cattle train, the deficiencies in the telegraphic signalling and poor signaller training. It is worth observing that the New Mills crash and second runaway were not on Midland Railway tracks. Although the line from New Mills to Manchester formed the Midland Railway’s access to the city, access from New Mills to Manchester was by partnership with the Manchester Sheffield and Lincolnshire Railway (MS& LR), which had built the line from Manchester to New Mills and was building out to Hayfield. MS&LR jurisdiction covered the line out of New Mills at least as far as the freight loop (an extra track for slower freight trains to wait in) ending at Marsh Lane bridge, which was controlled by New Mills East box. After 1870, the line from New Mills to Manchester was operated under a joint working Committee. The actions of the New Mills signallers and driver Cooper were exemplary and a possibly much worse outcome was avoided. Cooper may have later wondered if he could have pre-emptively reversed earlier. He could have wished he’d stayed on the footplate and avoided the injury he received, so he could then stop safely in New Mills station. But it is easy to have wisdom with hindsight. Their prompt actions undoubtedly saved lives. Even if there was an opportunity to reverse the passenger train earlier and get out of the way, the runaway would likely have derailed on the curve approaching the tunnel, perhaps falling into the River Sett, or smashing into the tunnel mouth cliff. If the passenger train had been a few minutes earlier through New Mills, it could not have been
stopped by East box and would have been travelling at 40-50mph by the site of what later became Gowhole sidings, before hitting the runaway head on with a combined speed of about 100mph. We might also wonder whether the New Mills East signaller could have called on the express into the up goods loop. But time was so limited, and his prompt action with (likely) a red flag as well as normal signal had seemingly stopped the train 250 yards short of the box, at the bridge. The inquest into the death of Martha, held at Peak Forest’s Midland Hotel on Wednesday 11th September, returned a jury verdict of accidental death, but they held that signaller Knight of Peak Forest had neither received effective instruction, nor been competent in his duties, that there was conflicting evidence given by his Midland Railway signalling examiner who was also doubtless trying to cover his back, and that the Peak Forest stationmaster was also at fault in causing the signal box to be left unmanned. The coroner Dr Bennet of Buxton, made a point of publicly endorsing
the views of the
jury. He then travelled that same evening to New Mills to conduct the inquest
at the Poorhouse for those who died there, with key witnesses who had testified
at Peak Forest also required to testify again at New Mills. All may well have
travelled the same route as the runaway train to reach the New Mills inquest,
as the line was again open. A disturbing and poignant journey. As this second
inquest did not end until midnight, all the participants surely lodged in the
town overnight. Martha was buried on 12 September in St Thomas a Becket parish
churchyard, there being no Anglican church in Dove Holes at the time, a sad
premature ending of a young life, and another tragedy for the rest of her
family. The bodies of the three identified drovers were released after the inquest and taken
to Birmingham and all buried in
the same cemetery.
Professional rail staff will cringe at this catalogue of errors and rule-breaking, even within the standards of the time. The rulebook is there for a reason, including to provide two or more failsafe backups after a primary failure. A slack safety culture will eventually lead to disaster. In another transport field, shipping, the White Star Line had a long lasting and embedded poor safety culture, with ships lost and other near misses and cover-ups. Competitor Cunard did not lose a passenger in peacetime for more than a century.
The primary cause in this disaster was a failure of the Midland Railway to either train or vet a new signaller, and then place him in sole charge of a mainline box. Even the brightest and best recruit, with no previous railway background, could not learn the job during the brief observation time Knight was given. By the end of century, training would be transformed. The Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway built the signal training model system now in York Museum. My grandfather would have assisted at the LMS training school in the 1930s, with its own miniature signals and trains. The secondary cause was to halt a ballast train in a tunnel without protecting it with warning detonators. Today, of course, there would be an overnight engineering possession. The third cause was that the contractor’s gang was not in the chain of railway command, but appears to be a law unto themselves, and appears to have chosen the quickest shortcut to fulfil their task, with the acquiescence of railway staff. The underlying malaise, contributing to these three, was a lack of communication, discipline, supervision, or prioritising safety; a poor working and safety culture throughout. Lieut-Col Rich’s plea for wagon braking was a long time coming. Cattle (and other covered vans) got their continuous brakes. But a century later, un-braked open mineral wagons were still being hauled through Dove Holes tunnel, making another runaway like this still possible. These heavy trains needed huge skill from train crews.
The accident came only a year after the Peak Forest to New Mills line had been opened – and then almost immediately closed because the new Bugsworth viaduct started to collapse due to slipping rock strata. So it was a second massive PR hit for this ambitious railway company. Students of Midland Railway and signalling history may know the details of how soon the Midland were able to improve signalling equipment and training after this accident. Happily, telephones in boxes would before too long become standard equipment.
Please fill in any
details of the story, or highlight any errors.
*This was the term for the role then, rather than the modern ‘signaller’. In railway parlance,
signalmen were also
often called ‘bobby’, deriving from the early days of policemen controlling
signals.
At this time, the Midland Railway painted all its locomotives, passenger and freight, in a mid-green livery with black/cream lining. Locomotives in these incidents had tenders, but no other details are available. The two hauling the cattle train are likely to have been 0-6-0s. The 5.23 express was possibly a 2-4-0, the standard express power of the time
though could have
been a 2-2-2. The ballast train hardly needed much power, and could have been
any old tender loco that (presumably) Buxton MR shed could spare.
Mother Frances Vaines was buried in Chapel on 15 Jan 1865. So Martha was likely laid to rest in the same plot. There is no memorial stone, a big expense for any family. Before Frances (nee Newbold) married, she was a servant living in Brampton. She married Samuel on 14 Feb 1852 in Brampton. By 1861, the family were living in Staveley.
On the night of the tragedy, Samuel must have been increasingly concerned when Martha did not return home, and may have gone to Peak Forest Station in search. By then, the railway staff and gangers caught up in the crash will have made their way to the station and reported the crash, and that a girl had been offered a ride on the train. The news will have spread quickly in the area. Samuel appears to have moved the family back to Ashover after this third bereavement. An added pressure on him may have been that particularly at night, living in a house right above Dove Holes Tunnel, it would be possible to hear the trains and feel the vibration under the ground. Indeed, it is not impossible that if he was home at the time, he heard or felt the impact of the crash under the house.
Martha Vaines’
younger siblings Walter and Hannah would return to the Dove Holes area, and
were lodging with a widower and his child in Fairfield in 1881, Walter as a
stoneworker, Hannah as a charwoman. She died in 1896, he in 1926. He married
and lived in Chapel, where he married Sarah. By 1911, he was living in
Burrfields, Chapel, with five children and working as a quarryman. Martha’s
older sibling Charles (b1852) was also living in Fairfield by this time,
married with two children. Another relative named Samuel Vaines in Ashover was
to name his own daughter Martha in 1902 and perpetuate her name. The Vaines
family name has survived in both Ashover and Chapel areas as well elsewhere in
Derbyshire.
At this time, there
was no box at the top of Chapel Bank, near the Dove Holes Tunnel entrance. The
only Chapel box was just south of the station, and not (according to maps)
in the later location on the up platform. (In 1923 the station was renamed
Chapel Central, and the LNW Chapel Station as Chapel South.) The next box
down the line was old Chinley Station, then Bugsworth, which belonged to the
Midland Railway and finally New Mills East (belonging to the MS& LR). The
last boxes in the story were New Mills Central Station (as it was later
named) and Marple (also MS& LR). The same renaming of New Mills
stations was done in 1923; New Mills (LNWR) became Newtown, and New Mills (MR) became
New Mills Central.
Accident report by Lt-Col Rich:
https://www.railwaysarchive.co.uk/documents/BoT_DovesHoleTunnel1867.pdf
New Mills history page on the accident by Steve Lewis:
http://www.stevelewis.me.uk/page15.php
Draining Dove Holes - account of recent remedial work on the tunnel and its history:
https://www.railengineer.co.uk/draining-dove-holes
Collapse of the Bugsworth viaduct:
http://www.pittdixon.go-plus.net/upfc-black-brook/ry-diversion.htm
Speaking telegraph equipment:
https://signalbox.org/branch-lines/the-speaking-telegraph/
Acknowledgements
Grateful thanks to Dave Harris of the Midland Railway Study Centre and John Hinson of
Signalbox.org for helpful and detailed advice on Midland signalling practices at the time.
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