'At the time of catastrophe’ - Railway Passenger's Accident Insurance - 1849-1914

In the period 1874 to 1878, on average 35 passengers were killed per year on Britain’s railways (against 687 railway employees). High profile accidents such as Abergele in 1868, in which 32 people died, combined with the attendant hysteria, did much to put fear into the heart of the travelling public.[1] How then could the passenger avoid leaving their family destitute if they had the misfortune to be in an accident? The answer – railway passenger’s insurance.

The most prominent company to provide this was the Railway Passengers Assurance Company (now part of AVIVA). Formed in 1849, ‘for the purpose of Insuring Passengers by railway against accidents,’ it started with a capital of £1,000,000 ‘to inspire confidence in its ability to pay £1000 for a threepenny premium.’[2]

After establishment, the company quickly made deals with the railway companies of Britain to sell tickets and policies at stations. Initially the tickets, purchased from booking offices at station, would insure the passenger for the journey that they were about to undertake (irrespective of length). In 1849 passengers could pay threepence on a first class ticket, twopence on a second class ticket and onepence on a third class ticket would, which, in the case of a fatal accident, would entitle their family to £1000, £500 and £200 respectively. In the cases where accidents were non-fatal, but where there had been injury, the company would pay out ‘a sum of compensation that they consider just.’ If the amount paid out was disputed by the claimant, the company would go to arbitration.[3] The company also issued periodical insurance tickets (usually for a month), and, irrespective of class, any fatal accident would permit the family to claim £1000. The original cost of this tickets have not been determined.[4]

Despite much scepticism in the press regarding the viability of the new company, insurance policies and single journey tickets sold well. At the company’s first annual general meeting in March 1850, it was reported that in the period between August 1849 and the end of the third week in February, 65,353 single journey tickets had been sold (15,710 first class, 24,586 second class and 25,047 third class). Additionally, 1,683 periodical passes had also been sold.[5]

As the insurance was sold at stations there had to be some pay-off for the railway company. A London and South Western Railway 1858 guide to Station Agents stated that Booking Clerks that issued and received insurance tickets were to receive a 10 per cent commission from the Assurance Company as remuneration for their trouble. Indeed, they were required to process the tickets also, and clerks were to send a weekly return of the number of tickets issued and received to Waterloo Audit office.[6] However, the selling of tickets wasn’t always looked on favourably by the railway companies themselves, and many Booking Clerks were instructed by management not to invite the selling of insurance as talk of accidents on the railways may have increased anxiety among travellers.[7] Despite this, the company remained successful.

After the formation of the company the types of accident insurance that could be taken out proliferated and some of the old schemes became more standardised. An 1897 guide for Station Agents shows that there was insurance for journeys not more than 35 miles and journeys of any length. The compensation was also dependent on how much the purchaser paid. There was also the option for individuals to purchase accident cover for 1 month, 3 months, 6 months, 5 years, 10 years or the entire length of their person’s life. Furthermore, the subjective assessment of how much individuals should receive if they were maimed or injured had been replaced with formalised payments for those who suffered ‘death or loss of two eyes or limbs,’ ‘total disablement’ and ‘partial disablement.’[8] (see image for more details)

While the Railway Passengers Assurance Company held sway over 19^th century passenger insurance, the scheme of the periodical Tit-Bits should be noted. Tit-Bits was launched by the innovative publisher George Newnes in 1881. In May 1885 Tit-Bits announced in bold and capitals ‘A NEW SYSTEM OF LIFE ASSURANCE.’ The scheme was as follows: ‘ONE HUNDRED POUNDS WILL BE PAID BY THE PROPRIETOR OF"TIT-BITS" TO THE NEXT-OF-KIN OF ANY PERSON WHO IS KILLED IN A RAILWAY ACCIDENT, PROVIDED A COPY OF THE CURRENT ISSUE OF "TIT-BITS" IS FOUND UPON THE DECEASED AT THE TIME OF THE CATASTROPHE.’

This had been suggested to Newnes by the wife of a dedicated reader who had been killed in an accident. Seeing the potential to increase the periodical’s circulation and his profits, Newnes used the idea. The first successful claimants were the family of a 40 year old coachbuilder who had fallen between the train and the platform at Hatfield station and had been run over. The coroner proclaimed ‘accidental death.’ However, crucially, four witnesses testified that the man had Tit-Bits in his pocket. Subsequently, two claims a month on average were made and by September 1891 Newnes had paid out to 36 families. How far this scheme increased the circulation of the Tit-Bits is unknown. However, it provided the publication with gripping stories for individuals reading it on the commute.[9]

[1] Simmons, Jack, ‘Accidents’, The Oxford Companion to British Railway History, (Oxford, 1997), p.2-4

[2] Author’s Collection, Instructions to Station Agents – Railway Passenger’s Assurance Company, 1897

[3] The Era, Sunday, March 4, 1849; Issue 545

[4] Trewman's Exeter Flying Post or Plymouth and Cornish Advertiser, Thursday, November 22, 1849; Issue 4381

[5] The Morning Post, Thursday, March 07, 1850; pg. 3; Issue 23788

[6] The National Archives [TNA], RAIL 1035/269, 1858 - RAIL 1035- Abstract of instructions which have from time to time been issued to the Station agents &c Previous to 1st May 1858, p.14

[7] Harrington, Ralph, ‘The railway accident: trains, trauma and technological crisis in nineteenth-

[8] Author’s Collection, Instructions to Station Agents – Railway Passenger’s Assurance Company, 1897 century Britain,’ http://www.york.ac.uk/inst/irs/irshome/papers/rlyacc.htm

[9] Jackson, Kate, ‘The Tit-Bits Phenomenon: George Newnes, New Journalism and the Periodical Texts,’ Victorian Periodicals Review, Vol.30, No.3, (Fall, 1997), p.217-218

'Preferred in Finer Weather' - Early Third Class Passenger Accommodation

I don’t often write about the rolling stock of Britain’s railway on this blog. In fact, I don’t think I have so far. I don’t know why. The development of rolling stock on Britain’s railways relate to many aspects of the social, managerial, governmental and technological history of the railway network. But, as will be shown, the earliest third class accommodation was appalling because of the profit motive of the earliest railway managers.

Unlike today, where the majority of us sit in what is now ‘standard class,’ a much smaller proportion of customers travelled by the lowest class in the earliest days of Britain’s railways. Yet, this was not necessarily by choice and the railways before 1850 were reluctant to provide third class accommodation on many services. A return from 1847 showed that in the year ending June 1846 just over 6 million 1^st class passengers were conveyed in Britain (14.07%), just under 17 million 2^nd class passengers travelled (38.66%). The rest of those conveyed were about 18.5 million 3^rd and Parliamentary class passengers (the latter of which more will be mentioned in a moment) (42.26%). However, the preference for carrying 1^st and 2^nd class passengers was logical considering they contributed £3.6 million of the £4.7 million (76.18%) of the revenue generated by passenger traffic in that year.[1]

Thus, for early railway managers providing accommodation for third class passengers forced up operating costs, reduced revenues and ultimately diminished profits. Indeed, on many railways, for example on the opening of the Hampton Court Branch of the London and South Western Railway, the company didn’t mention third class travelling arrangements at all.[2] Furthermore, many companies did not attach third class carriages to the regular passenger services, instead attaching them to goods trains. Of course, this wasn’t to say that the addition of third class carriages to a train that was ‘running light’ didn’t add profit to the overall service, but in the main, railway managers preferred to convey the more profitable first and second class traffic.

Furthermore, the low rate of return on conveying third class passengers also affected the quality of their accommodation which was, especially in winter, dreadful. Thus, early third class accommodation rarely had a roof, glazing, and almost always forced the passengers to sit on wooden seats. In short, these coaches were little more than slightly modified goods wagons.[3] However, by not spending large amounts of money on the coaches for third class travellers, railway managers were reducing the overall cost of conveying them. On the opening of the Sheffield and Rotherham Railway one reporter tried to make the best he could of the third class coaches which were ‘of common appearance but substantial in structure, and being open will probably be preferred in fine weather.’[4]

However, such poor accommodation carried with it substantial risks when an accident occurred. While individuals had come to harm falling from the coaches,[5] it was an accident on the Great Western Railway on Christmas Eve 1841 that brought the matter to the government’s attention. Late in the evening a luggage train, which was comprised of three third class coaches and some heavily loaded goods wagons, was going from Bristol Temple Meads to London Paddington and was passing through Sonning Cutting, east of Reading Station. Rains had caused a landslip which had covered the track with earth. In the dark the train hit this and derailed, causing the third class carriages, which were between the engine and the goods wagons, to be crushed. Eight people died at the scene, and one died in hospital a day later. 16 people were seriously injured.[6]

The accident report stated that one of the principal causes of fatality was the lack of protection afforded to the passengers within them. Indeed, many of the passengers had been thrown out of the carriage on impact.[7] As such, the Board of Trade initiated a general inquiry into the conveyance of third class passengers nationwaide, culminating in the 1844 Regulation of Railways Act. This compelled all companies that derived a third of their revenue from passenger traffic to provide one train daily calling at all stations, that did not go less than 12 miles per hour, which did not cost the traveller not more than 1d per mile and, crucially, used enclosed carriages with seats. These were called ‘Parliamentary Trains.’ Reflecting the fact that the operation of these services would be a financial burden for the railway companies, any company meeting these requirements would not have to pay taxes on the fares.[8]

While this piece of legislation was a landmark, given it was the first by government that actively intervened in railway affairs, it also showed the future of the third class carriage. Of course, the legislation did not stop the usage of open coaches immediately, and they continued to be used until as late as the early 1870s. Yet, what this story shows is that the from the very earliest days of the railway industry it was the government that had to intervene to restrict the railway’s earliest urges simply to make as much profit as possible. Indeed, it is also possible that this early intervention by the government instilled in railway management the idea that they had an obligation to the public, something that would have an effect on railway profitability in later years.

[1] House of Commons Parliamentary Papers [HCPP], 1847 (706) Railways. Summary of returns, showing the number of passengers carried on 63 railways of the United Kingdom during the year ending 30 June 1846, the fares of each class, and the receipts from each class of passengers, and for goods.

[2] The National Archives [TNA], RAIL 411/227, Traffic & Coaching Committee Minute Book, 19^th January 1849, p.301

[3] Harris, Michael, ‘Carriages,’ The Oxford Companion to British Railway History, (Oxford, 1997), p.76

[4] The Sheffield Independent, and Yorkshire and Derbyshire Advertiser, Saturday, November 03, 1838; pg. 2; Issue 908

[5] The Champion and Weekly Herald (London, England), Sunday, October 27, 1839; Issue 163.

[6] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sonning_Cutting_railway_accident

[7] Accident Returns: Extract for Accident at Sonning on 24th December 1841, http://www.railwaysarchive.co.uk/docsummary.php?docID=113

[8] Simmons, Jack, ‘Parliamentary Trains,’ The Oxford Companion to British Railway History, p.369

Always remember "Safety First!" - Railway Employee Safety Campaigns from 1913

Safety for Britain’s railway employees before 1913 was governed by the rule books that each was obliged to carry. This had been the case since the railway’s beginnings. However, the rule book did not prevent accidents occurring, and between 1900 and 1913 the average number of railway employees killed per year was 485, with the number of injuries being 20,737. Thus, while the rule book was an established part of railway life, its instructions were failing to prevent accidents. Mike Esbester argued that this could be attributed to the formality and compulsory nature of such documents. ‘The reader was unlikely to read the solid mass of text except when compelled to do so.’[1] It wasn’t until the Great Western Railway (GWR) introduced the “Safety Campaign” in 1913, that things began to change.

The origins of the ‘Safety First’ campaign can be found in the United States. In the early 1900s, Ralph Richards, the Chicago and North Western Railroad’s (C&NWR) general claim agent, became concerned by the number of accidents within the company. As late as 1910 107 men were killed and another 9,000 were injured while at work for the company. Thus, in 1905 he published a number of articles on safety issues and in 1906 these were reproduced as a book. At the same time he attempted to get the C&NWR’s management interested a campaign, something that would become a fruitless endeavour until 1910.[2] By 1912, the ‘safety first’ campaign had become accepted amongst the management of many American railroad companies.

The GWR’s management first came interested in the ‘Safety First’ campaign in 1913 through articles in the Illinois Central Railroad Magazine, George Bradshaw’s book the Prevention of Railroad Accident and through other publications. However, the ‘safety first’ mantra was spreading within Britain’s railway administrators and commentators at the time, and the GWR’s management were simply the first to act on this interest. Thus, the GWR contacted some American railroads about their campaigns with a view to introducing something similar amongst its own employees in early 1913.

Esbester argued that the ‘Safety First’ campaign ‘reinvented safety education in Britain,’ using journalistic techniques to convey its messages. While the contents of the rule book were stuffy and unappealing, the messages provided by the campaign were attractive. Indeed, the GWR used its staff magazine, the Great Western Railway Magazine, to convey its messages as well as publications, competitions and posters. The contents focussed on such areas as safety in coupling together trains, crossing the line, dealing with electric lines (in later years), loading carts, riding on the top of carriages and not standing too close to a steam train’s exhaust pipe.

Articles were written with the employee in mind. They were straightforward for the individual to understand and used informal language that was very different from that found in the rule books. Furthermore, photography was utilised in all the material that was produced, usually showing ‘correct’ and ‘incorrect’ working behaviour (shown – an example from the 1920s). Additionally, capitalisation and bold text were used to highlight important points. Lastly, in 1916 the GWR introduced a pocket token about the size of a penny to be kept with loose change. This had the ‘Safety First’ motto, ‘IS IT SAFE?’ emblazoned all over it and every time an individual brought out their change it would be there to remind them of the value of safety.

Quickly after the GWR started to work on the campaign it was taken up by other British Railway companies. Indeed, the GWR shared its materials. The companies that introduced campaigns were the London and South Western, Great North of Scotland, Midland and Great North Joint, Wirral, Rhymney, Cambrian, Cardiff, and Isle of Wight Central, North Eastern and Hull and Barnsley Railways. Indeed, it is interesting to note that the diffusion of the campaign happened just as quickly in Britain as it did in America, with many of these companies adopting the campaign by 1915.

So why was the campaign introduced in 1913? Esbester concludes that a combination of two factors that precipitated its adoption. Firstly, this was a period in which the profitability of Britain’s railways was at an all-time low. Secondly, the railway companies were under intense pressure to improve the working conditions of their employees, both from government and the unions. Indeed, in 1911 there had been a national railway strike (which I wrote about here). Thus, the campaign was an attempt by the railway companies to prevent interference from the government in labour relations, placate the unions, while at the same time trying to avoid spending money on costly new safety devices.[3]

If you would like to read Mike Esbester’s article in full, it can be found HERE.

[1] Esbester, Mike, ‘Reinvention, Renewal, or Repetition? The Great Western Railway and Occupational Safety on Britain’s Railways, c.1900-c1920,’ Economic History Online, Vol.3 (2005)
[2] Aldrich, Mark, Safety First: Technology, Labour, and Business in the Building of American Work Safety, 1870-1939, (New York, 1997), p.188
[3] Esbester, ‘Reinvention, Renewal, or Repetition?’ (2005)

Royal Trains for three Victorian Royal Weddings

What with all the fervour surrounding the Royal Wedding, I thought that I would look through some 19th century newspapers for evidence of how the Victorian railways played a role in royal weddings of the past.

The first wedding I encountered was Princess Victoria’s (Queen Victoria’s Daughter) marriage to Prince Frederick William of Prussia on the 25th January 1858. This took place at the Chapel Royal in St. James’ Palace. After the Wedding Breakfast at Buckingham Palace, the couple left for Windsor. In 1858 Windsor had two stations owned by two companies, and the couple were carried by the Great Western Railway (GWR) from Paddington Station. Leaving the station at 5pm, they arrived at Windsor at pm and were greeted by dignitaries, fireworks, the firing of a canon and a guard of honour.[1] A few days later the couple travelled back to Paddington, and then by the South Eastern Railway (SER) to Gravesend where they were to depart for Prussia. All through their journey crowds gathered at the stations they passed to cheer them on, and on arrival at Gravesend Station they were greeted by speeches and cheers.[2]

At the same time, many from around the nation wished to celebrate the wedding and excursion trains were provided to London. Indeed, this was a period when the railway industry was just starting to exploit large events for financial gain by running 'specials' to them. Thus, it is known that the London and South Western Railway (L&SWR) provided special excursion trains from Southampton to ‘enable sight-seers to witness the preparations for the marriage ceremony.’[3] Other instances of special trains have not, however, been found. Yet, it is plausible that they did exist.

In July 1862 another of Queen Victoria’s daughters, Princess Alice, got married to Prince Louis of Hesse at Osborne House on the Isle of Wight. Because of the death of Prince Albert in December 1861, the Royal Family was still in mourning. For this reason the wedding was not common knowledge amongst the public. After the event, the couple travelled from the pier at Gosport to Vauxhall by the L&SWR. ‘So little did the public know about the event’ reported The Sheffield & Rotherham Independent, that when the 5pm Southampton to London express train was shunted into a siding to let the royal train pass, the passengers had the strong impression that there had been an accident ahead. Indeed, when informed of the purpose of the stoppage they refused to believe it. Yet, reassurance came when they saw the royal coaches ‘with the visitors at the wedding seated in it, all at mourning.’[4]

Prince Edward, Queen Victoria’s eldest son and the future King Edward III, was married on the 10th March 1863 to Princess Alexandra of Denmark in St. George's Chapel at Windsor Castle. Alexandra had arrived only four days previously at Gravesend and had been conveyed by the SER to the Bricklayers Arms Station. She was then transported Windsor by the GWR from Paddington.[5] After the wedding the couple departed for Southampton via Basingstoke by the GWR. Jackson’s Oxford Journal reported that ‘the passage of the train from Windsor was welcomed at every station through which it passed by a display of flags, words of welcome and floral decorations.’ On arrival at Southampton the royal carriage was detached from the train, and to the sound of cheers six horses pulled it into the docks. It was from here that they took the Royal Yacht to the Isle of Wight and Osborne House.[6]

Unlike the wedding of Princess Alice, Edward’s wedding, like Prince William’s, was celebrated by many around the country. Naturally, some people wanted to visit Windsor and special trains were laid on by the GWR from Paddington. However, the number conveyed is unknown.[7] In addition, festivities were held nation-wide. In Edinburgh bonfires were lit, famous buildings and monuments were illuminated and fireworks were let off. As such, special trains were run to the city from Newcastle, Dundee and Glasgow, with return workings run after the illumination had finished.[8] Thus, special trains were laid on throughout the country to transport individuals to regional events.

Overall, Britain’s railways clearly played a role in broadening the appeal of royal weddings and making royal couples into celebrities in early Victorian Britain. Stations, particularly, were the focal points for the celebrations, as they were the only places where many people could see the royal couples personally. Indeed, in all of these cases, bar that of Princess Alice’s marriage, royals were subject to celebrations at either end of their journeys, as well as at the stations through which they passed. Additionally, railways had the effect of allowing those that lived far away from the weddings to celebrate where the ceremonies were, or at regional festivities. Thus, while not all weddings were located in easily accessible places, like Windsor, the special trains detailed here indicate that there was significant interest in them. Thus, I have to ask, did the railways start the hype around the royal weddings that we have today?

[1] The Essex Standard, and General Advertiser for the Eastern Counties, Wednesday, January 27, 1858; Issue 1415
[2] The Bristol Mercury, Saturday, February 6, 1858; Issue 3542
[3] Daily News, Friday, January 22, 1858; Issue 3647
[4] The Sheffield & Rotherham Independent, Thursday, July 03, 1862; pg. 4; Issue 2412
[5] Hampshire Telegraph and Sussex Chronicle etc, Saturday, March 7, 1863; Issue 3309
[6] Jackson's Oxford Journal Saturday, March 14, 1863; Issue 5733
[7] The Sheffield & Rotherham Independent, Wednesday, March 11, 1863; pg. 7; Issue 2626
[8] Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper, Sunday, March 8, 1863; Issue 1059

The Rise and Fall of 'Ladies Only' Railway Compartments in the 19th Century

The railways had a considerable effect on the mobility of women, particularly those in the upper and middle classes. Prior to their advent most women were not permitted to travel on their own. If they wished to go anywhere, the social norms of the day demanded that they have accompaniment by their husbands or a male relative to protect them against supposed dangers. Yet, because the railways reduced journey times the perceived risks lone women faced when travelling were adjudged to have diminished. The Quarterly Review stated in 1844 that the railways had brought about ‘the emancipation of the fair sex, and particularly of the middle and higher classes, from the prohibition from travelling at all.'[1]

However, some still felt that women should be isolated when travelling on the railways and by this time a few companies were starting to provide permanent ‘ladies only’ compartments in trains. Nevertheless, the practice was not widespread and it wasn’t until the 1860s that railway companies came under heavy pressure to institute such a provision universally. Indeed, some advocated that that the railways should be legally obliged to provide 'ladies only' accommodation on each train.

Advocates for these facilities were spurred on by high profile cases of rudeness, foul language and assaults by men that went to court and which were reported in the press. As an example, The Penny Illustrated Paper printed in 1868 the tale of two women who were repeatedly followed by man, who was ‘dressed as a gentleman,’ from one compartment to another. He apparently acted in an insulting and obtrusive manner. Indeed, when the letter writer left the carriage, leaving her friend with the man, he ‘subjected her to gross insults and annoyances.’[2] Another letter, printed by The Standard in 1864, was from one man whose servant had been assaulted on a train. Alone in a carriage, the three men spoke rudely to her and she went and stood by the window. One of the fellows then tried to pull her to the ground and ‘caught hold of her leg…putting his hands up to her knee.’ They blocked her screams for help by standing by the window, and then pushed her against the side of the carriage violently. They laughed and then got out.[3] Thus, it was these kinds of reports that fuelled demands for women to have separate travelling accommodation.

As such, it is not surprising that when the Metropolitan Railway introduced permanent ‘ladies compartments’ on all their trains in October 1874, many congratulated them on the decision in the press.[4] However, this was an experiment that failed miserably and after a couple of months the Metropolitan had abandoned the practice.

The truth was that ladies compartments were very under used. A report in The York Herald stated that on the Metropolitan ‘it was found that the privilege [of women’s only compartments] was not availed of to an extent to warrant the company in setting aside so much space in each train, and moreover that it was abused.’[5] Indeed, there had been ‘ladies compartments’ on the Stockton to Darlington section of the North Eastern Railway for some time before 1874. However, they were also ‘frequently empty.’[6] Furthermore, when the Board of Trade investigated the whole issue in 1887 it found that the companies would reserve compartments on request, but those that were permanently reserved were very under used.[7] Indeed, this was perhaps even more than the railways would offer in some cases, and the Railway Clearing House rule book of 1884 stated that if requested guards were to ‘select a carriage for [women]… in which other ladies are travelling.’[8] Thus, by the time of the First World War permanent ‘ladies accommodation’ was exceedingly rare as providing it was unremunerative for the railway companies.

Overall, the demands for ‘ladies only’ accommodation were generated from newspaper sensationalism and a misrepresentation of reality. As Jack Simmons commented, the number of cases of women being insulted, robbed or assaulted reported in the papers was ‘insignificant, when looked at against the number of journeys women were making at the time.’[9] Indeed, this seems to have been contemporary thinking amongst some. A reporter for the Newcastle Weekly Courant stated in 1884 that ‘there are women who, believing all that they read in the newspapers is as true as Gospel, think they are in mortal terror when they find themselves alone with a man in the carriage.’ Indeed, his view was that men would rather search a train for a spare seat, rather than sit with an ‘unattended female.’ Apparently, most men thought that ‘it is best to leave female travellers alone, as they are generally well able to take care of themselves.’[10]

Ultimately, the story of the ‘ladies only’ accommodation is one where media hype gave weight to patriarchal views. Between the 1860s and the 1890s individuals holding the view that women should be separated on trains made a lot of noise and put pressure on railway companies to endorse their perspective. However, as women travellers showed by their actions, they did not need the protection. Subsequently, the railways, driven by a financial rationale to fill trains and make profit, responded by not heeding their requests.

[1] Quarterly Review, Volume 74, Issue 147 (1844, June) p.250
[2] Penny Illustrated Paper, Saturday, September 26, 1868; Issue 365
[3] The Standard, Tuesday, September 13, 1864; pg. 3; Issue 12510
[4] The Standard, Thursday, October 15, 1874; pg. 3; Issue 15668
[5] The York Herald, Thursday, December 17, 1874; pg. 3; Issue 5572
[6] The Newcastle Weekly Courant, Friday, October 10, 1884; Issue 10943.
[7] Simmons, Jack, ‘Women’s Emancipation,’ The Oxford Companion to British Railway History, (Oxford, 1997), p.566
[8] South Western Circle Collection [SWC], London and South Western Railway Rule Book, 1884, Rule 242, p.137
[9] Simmons, Jack, The Victorian Railway, (London, 1991), p.334
[10] The Newcastle Weekly Courant, Friday, October 10, 1884; Issue 10943.

"Careful Now" - The Movement of Gunpowder and Explosives on the Victorian Railway

The railways of the Victorian period were, for legal purposes, common carriers. Vital to the country’s trade and industry, they were legally obliged to carry all the goods that individuals brought to stations and yards if they were willing to pay the rates and charges the companies quoted.[1] The only exemption from this rule, as stated in the Railways Clauses Consolidation Act, 1845, was that the companies were under no obligation to ‘carry upon the railway, any aquafortis, oil of vitrol, gunpowder, lucifer matches, or any other goods which in the judgment of the company may be of a dangerous nature.’ If the railway did agree to carry them the consignor had to label them clearly as such, and failure to do so would result in he or she paying a £20 fine to the company.[2]

Despite this, railway companies were initially reluctant to carry such traffics and the London and South Western Railway’s (L&SWR) 1853 rule book stated that ‘no package of gunpowder, Lucifer matches, aquafortis, or other goods of similar combustible material nature can be received under any pretence.,’[3]

However, companies came to realise that refusing this traffic was not good as they could charge more for its conveyance than for other traffics. As a result, the railway companies developed increasingly complex rules for governing the movement of explosives. Furthermore, companies that had military bases within their territories could not really refuse to carry explosives and arms, but at the same time convey the army and navy’s men, horses and equipment. In a way, and although I feature it frequently, the L&SWR is probably one of the best candidates to have its ‘explosives’ procedures examined. Within its territory were Salisbury Plain, Hounslow Barracks and Portsmouth Harbour. Thus, by serving a large number of military bases the company would need to be at the forefront of developing procedures for the conveyance of explosive materials.

From early on in railway history gunpowder was loaded onto a train in a special position. The L&SWR’s 1858 guide for Goods Agents stated that it ‘must not be loaded beside any other goods; but must be given specially in charge to the Guards, or loaded in the powder magazine.’ Furthermore, so railway managers were able to know when Gunpowder was travelling it was only to be conveyed on ‘Mondays and Thursdays’ and before 3 pm.[4] By 1865 these rules, for the general public, were still in place.[5]

However, by then it seems that the L&SWR had come to more formal arrangements with the War Office regarding the supply of explosive materials to the military bases within its region. With the railways becoming more important to the defence of the nation it made sense for the railway and the government to formalise their relationship. Thus, the 1865 ‘instruction to station masters’ showed the expanded range of potentially dangerous items that the L&SWR was conveying for the army. They included ‘tubes, fuzes, signal rockets, port fires, quickmatch, blue, percussion and long lights, powder, rockets, fire-filled shells, gun and small arm cartridges, with percussion caps.’ They were to be conveyed in ‘metallic cylinders’ or by special ‘gunpowder vans,’ which I can only consider were a new addition to the L&SWR rolling stock fleet.[6]

Yet, these rules were created in a period when all the companies specified their own rule books and gave orders to their own employees. But in 1871 all the rule books of Britain’s railway companies were standardised through the Railway Clearing House, and as a result the procedures for the conveyance of gunpowder and explosive materials was formalised nationwide.[7]

Subsequently, the 1884 rule book shows how procedures had proliferated regarding the conveyance of what were now termed ‘explosives.’ Firstly, any vehicle containing ‘explosive matter’ was to have a label with the word ‘explosives’ attached. Secondly, not more than five vehicles with explosives were to be attached to each train. Third, the head guard of the train must be notified of the contents. Fourthly, the vehicles must be placed as far away from the engine, and the guards were prohibited from lighting fires in the break-vans. Fifth, in unloading the explosives they were to be moved from hand-to-hand and not rolled unless cloths, hides or sheets had been laid down. Sixth, each individual engaged in loading was to take the ‘necessary precautions for the prevention of accident by fire or explosion.’ Seventh, at each station that the train stopped the guard in charge was to check on the load and also check the axel boxes to make sure that they were not overheating. Lastly, and most importantly, explosives were not to be conveyed by passenger train.[8] This last rule was particularly interesting as at no point previously was the conveyance of explosives by passenger trains prohibited.

Overall, given the very basic rules of 1858, most aspects of explosives’ movements, from loading, transit and unloading, were covered by rules at the end of the century. Yet, it should be recognised that the development of the rules and procedures for the conveyance of these traffics was indicative of the changing nature of railway procedure throughout the Victorian period. Initially, they had been governed by a limited number of rules that were perceived to protect the trains in which they were carried. Yet, as time passed the procedures became more complex, reflecting the increased concern over their safe movement. Thus, this gradual increasing of the number of rules over time, which was mirrored in changes in procedures governing other aspects of railway operation, was symptomatic of an industry increasingly concerned with safety in an ever-more complex industry.

[1] Simmons, Jack, ‘Dangerous Goods,’ The Oxford Companion to British Railway History, (Oxford, 1997), p.124
[2] 1845 c. 20 (Regnal. 8 and 9 Vict), Railways Clauses Consolidation Act 1845, 105
[3] London School of Economics Library [LSE], HE 3020.L L84, London and South Western Railway Rule Book, 1853, Rule 38, p.26
[4] The National Archives [TNA], RAIL 1135/269, Abstract of Instructions which have from time to time been issued to the Station Agents. etc. 1st May 1858, p.18
[5] TNA, RAIL 1135/270 Abstract of Instructions which have from time to time been issued to the Station Agents. etc. 1st June 1865, p.60
[6] TNA, RAIL 1135/270 Abstract of Instructions which have from time to time been issued to the Station Agents. etc. 1st June 1865, p.61
[7] Horne, M.A.C. British Railway Rule Books, (Unpublished Paper, 2008), p.26 http://www.metadyne.co.uk/pdf_files/RULE_MAIN_V4.pdf
[8] South Western Circle Collection [SWC], London and South Western Railway Rule Book 1884, rule 258a, p.147-151

The Widows of Victorian Railwaymen and the Struggle for Survival

The majority of railway employees who died or were killed in the performance of their duties belonged to the ‘waged’ grades, and included porters, engine cleaners, signalmen or platelayers. Predominately, they were paid weekly, had little promotional prospects, almost no job security and, most importantly, low wages. Subsequently, while they and their families were not necessarily poor, many were at the lower end of the Victorian income spectrum.

Given the patriarchal nature of Victorian society, it is, therefore, unsurprising that a husband’s death would have led to hardships for many families and possible destitution. While some husbands would have subscribed to railway company employee’s widows’ and orphans' funds, which would have paid out a small amount to the family each week on his death, large sections of railwaymen did not. Invariably, these families were the hardest hit.

Therefore, railway company committee minute books are filled with references to railwaymen’s widows. On the 10th September 1859, the London and South Western Railway’s (L&SWR) Locomotive Committee book recorded that ‘a fatal accident…occurred to one of the Company's Gas Fitters, named Thornton at Nine Elms, on the 15th June last.’ This had left his widow ‘destitute.’[1] In 1885 John Shilabeer, a goods canvasser at Plymouth, died at the age of 49.[2] His wife wrote to the company for ‘assistance’ given the ‘circumstances in which she and her family are left by the death of her husband.’[3] The South Western Gazette, the company’s staff magazine, reported that ‘he left a widow and two young children (two of which are deformed).’ Indeed, because of his illness before his death the Gazette stated that he had been unable to provide for his family.[4]These were just two mentions of widows and their families amongst many that occurred in the L&SWR’s committee books.

Most of the cases raised at committee level were attached to requests from the wives and children of the deceased who required some assistance and had no other means of support. In the case of the L&SWR there was seemingly no set policy in response to these requests. Thornton’s widow was allowed 5 shillings a week for one year,[5] and in the case of Shilabeer his wife was allowed to continue receiving his wages until the 31st August 1885 (he had died in July).[7] Yet, his friends at Plymouth did also solicit donations from the L&SWR’s staff for the family.[8] However, on-going weekly payments to families were not common on the L&SWR. In most other cases the company granted gratuity of £5 or £10 to the family. However, this was not to support it, but to pay for funeral expenses.

The most fortunate of those who were widowed, but did not have support, were those who were offered jobs on the railways. The positions they received included office cleaner (or charwoman), waiting or refreshment room attendant, carriage lining sewer or brass polisher. Yet, these positions were low paid, and on the L&SWR the lowest wages were around 2 shillings 6 pence per week (£6, 10s per year); but were never more than 20 shillings a week (£52 per year). However, this latter wage was rare, and the majority of women received amounts at the smaller end of the spectrum. Furthermore, their wages were usually lower than newly employed boy apprentices, and the widows were the lowest paid individuals on the Victorian railway network.

Therefore, despite these jobs, it is unsurprising that many continued to suffer on such measly wages. Thus, I believe some women must have seen the disintegration of their families entirely. In an earlier post I related the story of Mary Ramsdale who had lost her husband in an accident in 1862 (Read it HERE). Subsequently, she was appointed by the L&SWR as Waiting Room Assistant at Southampton Station. Yet, she clearly suffered mental health problems, eventually had her family taken away and finished up being committed to a lunatic asylum. I’ll never know whether this was an extreme case, but I doubt that it was unique.

Overall, what can be said of the widows of railwaymen? The stories highlighted here were some of the saddest in railway history amongst many. Of course, not all widows were so unfortunate. If the family had saved or their husbands had joined Widow’s and Orphan’s Funds, then it was quite possible they and their family would have had an acceptable standard of living on being widowed. However, for many others, where perhaps saving was not practicable given the family’s size, the cost of living, or simply because the household income was low, destitution and poverty was a likely outcome if the worst occurred.

[1] The National Archives [TNA], RAIL 411/178, Locomotive Committee Minute Book, Minute No.278, 10th September 1859
[2] TNA, RAIL 411/492, Clerical staff character book No. 2, 1838 – 1919, p.573
[3] TNA, RAIL 411/255, Traffic Committee Minute Book, Minute No. 491, 5th August 1885
[4] TNA, ZPER 11/4, The South Western Gazette, August 1885, p.6
[5] TNA, RAIL 411/178, Locomotive Committee Minute Book, Minute No.278, 10th September 1859
[6] TNA, RAIL 411/492, Clerical staff character book No. 2, 1838 – 1919, p.573
[7] TNA, RAIL 411/255, Traffic Committee Minute Book, Minute No. 539, 2nd September 1885
[8] TNA, ZPER 11/4, The South Western Gazette, August 1885, p.6