A Privileged Journey

by David Maidment

  Chapter 5

  The Charterhouse Railway Society

  Maunsell ‘U’ 2-6-0 31800 with the only weekday steam working, the daily pick-up goods, passing Godalming, 21 June 1955.

  I had won a Surrey County Council ‘assisted place’ at Charterhouse in 1951. I was deeply apprehensive about this new venture, although it provided some relief from bullying at the grammar school, as I’d been a bit of a ‘teacher’s pet’, being acclaimed only too frequently as the first son of an ‘old boy’ to go there.

  There was not much to see of interest on the local railway at Godalming. My new school had an odd rule: to cross a railway line was ‘out of bounds’. That stopped unauthorised trips into the local towns of Godalming or Guildford but allowed plenty of latitude on the West and North side of the school.

  I had an old bike (Raleigh, 1936 vintage) given me by my grandfather and between 1951 and 1956 frequently cycled the five or six miles to Wanborough (which meant a stiff climb over the Hog’s Back), as two trains on the Reading–Redhill ‘Rattler’, as it was known, would pass near Wanborough station half an hour or so after our lunch finished. The westbound train would come first, huffing and puffing its three ‘birdcage’ carriages, the engine being normally a Guildford or Redhill Wainwright Class D 4-4-0 but occasionally a Class C 0-6-0 goods. Usually it was 31577 or 31586 (31075 and 31488 being the others I remember). On one occasion the eastbound train, which soon followed, was not the usual Maunsell mogul but bunker-first Standard 2-6-4 tank 80019, rushing in at a fair turn of speed for this line. The element of surprise at seeing my first ‘80xxx’ Standard was my excitement at the time, but memory now reveres the ancient ‘D’ struggling to lift its period formation out of the station amid a cloud of black smoke and leaking steam.

  Wainwright ‘D’ 31075 at Guildford with Reading - Redhill train, 12 June 1956.

  Wainwright ‘C’ 0-6-0 31683 crosses the ‘out of bounds’ limit bridge at Wanborough with the 2.23pm Guilford–Reading, 16 June 1955.

  More usual power for the 2.23pm Guildford–Reading: Class D 4-4-0 31586 near Ash Junction, 25 June 1955.

  As a fourteen-year-old I had inherited the Chair of the school Railway Society, after a period of disinterest from older pupils — as my barber explained to me at home, if I wanted ‘street cred’ (I’ve forgotten what we called it in those days), I should give up trains and interest myself in fast cars or aircraft. I had the help of a few thirteen-year-olds — Martin Probyn as Secretary, Jim Evans (later, like myself, a BR senior officer) as Treasurer and the new boys, Philip Balkwill (who later became a master at the school and died of cancer tragically young a few years ago) and his friend, Conrad Natzio.

  We were highly energetic, boosting the membership to over 300 (!) by putting on regular film shows using the marvellous BT films you can now see at the National Railway Museum (remember ‘Train Time’ and that corpulant WR Operating Manager on a desk festooned with the largest number of telephones you have ever seen?). We charged 3d a show or gave free admission to the four shows a year if you joined the Railway Club (annual subscription 6d), and, as entertainment in those pre-TV days was at a premium, we had a lot of takers. I vaguely remember that ‘London to Brighton in Four Minutes’ had a regular showing by popular demand, and a brief sighting of a train on an adjoining track and the possibility of a race (which failed miserably to materialise) was enough to get hordes of schoolboys jumping up and down in their seats, yelling the driver on! We also achieved a great coup in our early years by getting our little exhibition on ‘Societies Day’ opened by Sir Brian Robertson, Chairman of the British Transport Commission. He happened to be a friend of Jim Evans’ uncle as well as being an Old Carthusian.

  An austerity 0-6-0 tank, WD 118 Brussels, at Longmoor with a University College London Railway Society Special in 1958.

  ‘Terrier’ 32650 at Fratton, ready to take the next branch train to Hayling Island, 26 May 1956.

  We had regular outings on half days — to London depots like Old Oak Common and Camden, to the Longmoor Military Railway and to the Hayling Island branch, with its ‘Terrier’ tanks, like 32640, 32650, 32661 and 32677, still working hard.

  Every May the school would have a ‘Societies Day’, when a whole day was made available for club visits. In 1953 we caught the 9.30 Waterloo from Woking to Eastleigh behind ‘Lord Nelson’ 30858 Lord Duncan and visited the works, returning via Portsmouth — I was very surprised to find our train from Eastleigh to Portsmouth hauled by 6960 Raveningham Hall of Reading. In 1954 we planned a round-trip over Kent and Sussex branch lines, travelling from Redhill to Tonbridge behind ‘H’ tank 31261, going around Tonbridge shed, riding behind new 80014 to Tunbridge Wells and East Grinstead and then taking an electric (‘2-PUL’ units) to Pulborough, where we managed to leave our master (‘Kipper’ Leask), who was meant to be in charge, in the train’s toilet when we disembarked. Now on our own, we caught 30051 on the Midhurst branch and eventually got back to Redhill, where our train back to Guildford produced a brand-new ‘Standard 4’ 2-6-0, 76054. Redhill got Nos 76053-62, which replaced many of the old Wainwright engines on the ‘Rattler’, and our local diet now became these and the various Maunsell moguls.

  In April 1953, during the school holiday, I was entrusted with chaperoning a nine-year-old girl, Heather Swann (the daughter of a friend of my Aunt Doris, with whom she’d been staying), back to her home in Salisbury. We caught the 9.30am Waterloo–Bournemouth, which stopped at Surbiton, with Nine Elms ‘Lord Nelson’ 30858 Lord Duncan (again) as far as Basingstoke, where we changed to a local stopping train to Salisbury behind 30781 Sir Aglovale — a ‘cop’ and, as such, a much more acceptable steed. Later in the day, after the succesful handover of my charge to her father and in receipt of a copy of Railway Magazine — the reward for my trouble — I got, just to rub it in, Sir Aglovale all the way back to Surbiton. A year later, confidence in my escort service established, I was entrusted with Heather again, this time to get her to Tonbridge — out from Waterloo East with 34078 222 Squadron and back on a train from Hastings that ran in, to my delight, behind 30900 Eton. That Easter the family went to Chelmsford for my cousin’s wedding, the highlight for me being the journey from Liverpool Street behind 70039 Sir Christopher Wren. But then the run home was with 70039 again. I can’t remember anything about Eileen’s wedding.

  By 1955 I’d become a bit more ambitious with my primitive Kodak camera and started cycling to various locations nearby on the Redhill–Reading line, Shalford and Ash Junction in particular. And I’d begun to look further afield. In the Easter holidays I’d noticed a football excursion advertised for Arsenal fans for their away match at Cardiff, priced at a just-affordable 14/6d. Standing at the platform end at Paddington, I watched a glistening 5036 Lyonshall Castle and a somewhat dirtier 5004 Llanstephan Castle back down onto other trains. Then my heart sank as nothing better than a filthy Pontypool Road ‘Hall’, 4990 Clifton Hall, coupled up. Performance was not scintillating, but we got there in good time for the match, allowing me to visit Canton depot, take a trip to Barry Town and back behind a pair of ‘Large Prairie’ tanks (5195 and 4164) and watch 373, a former Taff Vale tank, bustle off to Bute Road (which, frankly, I now wish I’d chosen instead of the Barry trip). I was tempted to join Canton’s 5046 Earl Cawdor and the 5.30pm London express as we massed on the platform for our returning excursion, but that train was taboo without full-fare tickets, so I had to await ‘Modified Hall’ 6999 Capel Dewi Hall, destined to achieve fame later, when it replaced 4079 on the 1964 ‘Castle’ swansong at Westbury. I still have no idea whether Arsenal won or not.

  A wet Sunday at Shalford, with Maunsell ‘U’ Mogul 31631 on a Redhill–Reading train, 19 June 1955.

  That summer term, after exams, we had half-day outings to Reading shed and branch-line trips — Guildford to Christ’s Hospital with ‘M7’ 30048, on to Horsham with ‘E4’ 32511, back to Cranleigh behind another ‘M7’, 30108, and finally, to our great joy, the last ‘D3’ 0-4-4T survivor, 32390, from Cranl
eigh back to Guildford. My August holiday was spent at the Methodist Guild Hotel in Whitby, where cliff walks were interspersed with communal train trips to Robin Hood’s Bay (out with ‘A5’ 69831, back with 69842), Staithes (out with ‘A8’ 69879, back with Standard 2-6-0 76023), up the Esk Valley (with ‘A8’ 69854 and back with ‘G5’ 67289) and a day on my own in York, where I was pleased to get ‘A8’ 69890 on the Whitby portion of the ‘Scarborough Flyer’ to Malton, there joining with ‘B16/3’ 61472, and returning after a day’s ‘spotting’ with named ‘B1’ 61237 Geoffrey H. Kitson and 69890 again. We all went to Scarborough for the day over the moors at Ravenscar, with the only ‘Standard 3’ 2-6-0 I ever travelled behind, 77014 (only to find, ten years later, it was the one transferred to Guildford!). The Saturday ‘Scarborough Flyer’ home was a disappointment from York, as King’s Cross ‘V2’ 60832 worked throughout, in contrast to our down run a fortnight before, which had produced a Top Shed ‘A4’, 60015 Quicksilver, as far as Grantham, where York ‘V2’ 60892 took over.

  Maunsell ‘U’ 31616 with a Redhill–Reading train near Ash Junction in 1955.

  An interloper — Nine Elms ‘T9’ 4-4-0 30724 near Ash en route from Guildford to Reading in 1958.

  In 1955 we had fixed a visit to Rugby Locomotive Testing Plant for our ‘Societies Day’ outing. Having caught the ‘Royal Scot’ behind ‘Duchess’ 46250 City of Lichfield, we were abandoned by our master-in-charge at Rugby, where he announced he was off to see his aunt. We duly went around the shed, finding several ‘4P’ Compounds in store, and were then met by the angry boss of the Testing Plant, who’d been watching us wandering unsupervised all over the shed and wanted to know who was in charge. When I admitted to this we got a safety lecture. (Our absentee master must also have got a rocket later, as he was replaced thereafter by the musical William Llewellyn, a true enthusiast, who really took an interest and inspired us.) After all this, disappointingly, nothing was moving, for although we found ‘Royal Scot’ 46165 on the rollers it had failed with a collapsed brick arch earlier that morning. I was looking forward to a fast run back to Euston on a mile-a-minute schedule behind a Bushbury ‘Jubilee’ and was astounded and dismayed to get one of the earliest diesel-electrics, 10203, which conversely delighted other members of the Society.

  Another fond memory of Railway Society activities relates to the model-railway layout of a retired surgeon named Romanis, an ‘Old Carthusian’ who lived just half a mile from the school, in Hurtmore. In the summer term half a dozen of us would be invited every Sunday afternoon to operate his magnificent Gauge 1 layout — a system with twenty-five locos modelled on the late pre-Grouping period, with three signalling block posts and a 60- or 90-minute timetable we had to operate with precise punctuality. At the end of the session, if we had operated the layout to his satisfaction, we would round off the visit with a glass of cider in his beautiful mansion.

  Rebuilt ‘Royal Scot’ 46165 The Ranger (12th London Regiment) on the Rugby Test Plant rollers during the Charterhouse Railway Society visit in May 1955.

  My Housemaster, Jock Reith, was confident that I was capable of getting a scholarship place at Oxford University (wrong!), and so began a series of trips from Guildford to Oxford, sitting abortive exams and whiling away the cold evenings on Oxford station rather than in cold lodgings or stuffy pubs. In November 1955 I had my first attempt at Oriel College, travelling to Reading behind the venerable ‘D’, 31075, and thence 4083 Abbotsbury Castle. I can’t remember much about the exam papers or the interviews, but I did travel to Radley one evening behind 4942 Maindy Hall and went to Abingdon and back with the push-pull train and 1420. Afterwards it was back to Reading with Oxford’s 5026 Criccieth Castle and another ‘D’, No 31488, to Guildford. Further efforts in January and February produced memorable freezing evenings train-watching and a return one night to London in a pea-soup fog, with 6854 Roundhill Grange audible but invisible somewhere up front.

  My efforts to gain entry through the illustrious portals of various Oxford colleges continued in 1956, equally unsuccessfully, although, since my railway training in later years included six weeks at Oxford station, I was able to drop ‘my Oxford days’ into the conversation when it mattered. A couple of November attempts, including a ‘near miss’ at Pembroke College, resulted in ‘Castle’ haulage to and from Paddington (5083, 5099 and 7005) and a final up run which was certainly different. I arrived at Oxford station in the early evening in another pea-soup fog and was genuinely surprised when 7004 Eastnor Castle pulled in early but stopped halfway down the platform. It cut off and disappeared into the murk, and to my astonishment a royal saloon backed down with another ‘bulled-up’ ‘Castle’, although by now the front of the platform had been cordoned off, and I was unable to ascertain its identity. Princess Margaret suddenly appeared, escorted by the top-hatted Stationmaster, and we set off punctually and with great gusto. The fog lifted momentarily as we rounded the Didcot curve to gain the main line, and from my position near the back of the train I could see the orange glow from the footplate and saw sparks fly high into the air as the regulator was opened wide to accelerate. The dense fog enveloped us once more in the Thames Valley, but despite this we made a cracking pace, and after Reading we were haring through the total darkness at an estimated 80mph when suddenly the train shuddered as a very heavy brake application was made. We screeched to a halt, and, peering out of the window, I could see little until I just made out the parapet of the bridge at Maidenhead over the Thames. We stood for about five minutes, then resumed our progress at a rather more sedate pace, but even so we were only six minutes late arriving at Paddington. We were all held back from alighting until the royal party had disembarked, and then, at last, I was able to identify our royal steed as Old Oak’s 5040 Stokesay Castle, an engine frequently (with 5035) used by the depot on its VIP turns. I glanced at the arrival indicator on the ‘lawn’ and noted that, apart from our train, every other estimated lateness was the maximum 99 minutes! I later heard that the driver and inspector had been disciplined, as we had overrun a ‘red’ signal (a ‘SPAD’), both men being over-confident that the road would have been cleared for a ‘semi-royal’, despite the weather.

  Turning out years of accumulated papers, I’ve just come across a sheaf of faded handwritten foolscap, which meticulously describes an exercise that boys from Charterhouse carried out on a summer Saturday in 1956. At least, I think it must have been that year, although memory told me it was earlier; however, I have just laboriously gone back through calendars, allowing for leap years, and calculated that during my time there as a boarder this was the only year in which 28 July fell a Saturday.

  Philip and Conrad were enthusiastic train-timers, and during my last summer at the school we decided that on the last Saturday of term we would attempt to log trains over the Weybridge–Basingstoke section of line. We got about ten of us with five stopwatches (borrowed from the athletics coach), synchronised them before we started at 12 noon, BBC time, and calibrated them at the end at 9pm, again checking them against the BBC News, adjusting passing times accordingly. We agreed to stand at the nearest quarter-milepost and log the passing time as the locomotive drew level.

  We left school after lunch and cycled to our allotted posts — Weybridge station, Woking station, the summit at Milepost 30¼ and Fleet and Basingstoke stations. As boss I granted myself Woking and had borrowed a very ancient 8mm camera, the possession of the music master, Bill Llewellyn, who had responsibility for our Society, with which to record events. At one stage I left a colleague at Woking in charge and caught the 2.54pm Waterloo–Salisbury with 30454 to Farnborough, returning with 30449 on an up local, for filming purposes. I regret the film has long since disappeared. At Woking, the afternoon scene was one of constant activity, if not chaos, as the trains recorded were augmented by numerous electrics from the Portsmouth and Alton directions, with conflictions with the main line at the flat junction west of the station. This caused signal checks to nearly all services — trains hurtling through the
station under clear signals were the exception (35027 on the very late 1.30pm Waterloo at 75mph, and two successive trains timed at 80mph+ on the up — 30751, on a boat train, followed by 34007, both engine whistles howling at the crowds still crammed on the platforms). This hive of activity contrasted with the sylvan scene near Milepost 30¼, where a small overbridge crossed the line just before the summit of the steady climb from Woking and where the peace was shattered by hard-working down trains and speeding up expresses just before sighting double-yellows announcing the Woking congestion.

  The aim of our project was to time the passing of each train that afternoon at our respective posts, to estimate speeds and comment on the working as we observed it and to create logs of the trains of the thirty miles or so we were covering. Today these provide a fascinating insight into one of the busiest Saturdays of the year (known then throughout the railways as ‘Black Saturday’) at a time when rail-borne holiday traffic was at its postwar peak. I also received some information from the records of Ben Brooksbank, who travelled from Waterloo to Basingstoke on the same day, and some notes from the Railway Observer which have been made available to me with comments on earlier running on that Saturday morning and which offer some explanation for the late running noted by our Charterhouse team. The Charterhouse group concentrated mainly on up trains, which were the most numerous, being the afternoon returning holiday traffic. I have no timetable for the period to check, and at the time we used the booked arrival and departure times at/from Waterloo to identify the trains.

  A bit of background first from the RO notes referring to July 1956, for the magazine comments that the weekend scene on the Southern’s Western Section showed a number of changes from previous summers. The influx of Standard Class 4 and 5 4-6-0s had caused former dependence on ‘S15’ and ‘H15’ classes to be much reduced, although 30476 was in action on a top-link job due to disruption earlier in the day, and 30497 was on the 1.24pm Waterloo–Salisbury semi-fast, appearing to be in some difficulty. Incidentally, the provision of Urie or Maunsell ‘S15s’ for the Basingstoke and Salisbury semi-fasts was common practice on summer Saturdays until the end of the 1950s. The absence of Urie ‘H15s’ is surprising (apart from the Maunsell rebuild, No 30491), but Maunsell 30476 on the fast 3.20pm Waterloo–Bournemouth was a sign of desperation, and it fared badly, being reported as ‘winded’ as it drifted over the summit near MP31 in the low 40s and a haze of brown smoke. The other main change was the use of ‘U’ moguls on the Lymington Pier trains after years of the Drummond ‘D15’ 4-4-0s, although this would be short-lived, as the ‘Schools’ transferred to Nine Elms from St Leonards had taken over these turns by the summer of 1958.