Terror in the Tunnels E-Book

Rosa Matheson

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 260

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

The exciting early days of the railways were tempered with danger, as the Victorian concept of health and safety was rather different to ours. Going 'into the dark' was a frightening experience and tunneling under the ground and under water was a death-defying activity in nineteenth-century Britain – many workers and travellers paid the ultimate price. Flooding, collapses and explosions, as well as malodorous air and illness, were just some of the challenges workers faced in order to make tunnels passable. Even once the tunnels had been completed, accidents were still frequent, whether collisions, derailments or fires. In this fascinating history, Rosa Matheson explores the grim past of Britain's well-known and lesser-known railway tunnel disasters, and how their 'terror' led to a safer future.

Leseprobe

A light at the end of the tunnel is what we all hope for – as seen here in Sapperton Tunnel. (Courtesy of Howard Beard, Chair of the Stroud Local History Society)

This book is dedicated to the railway navvies who built the railways that led to the civilisation we have today, and to all local interest and history groups and societies throughout the land because without their passion and commitment so much history, culture and knowledge would be lost.

Cover illustrations

Front, top: Tunnels were a place of mystery, a dangerous place, the great ‘unknown’. In nineteenth-century railways they were often the place of horror stories. Front, bottom: Scene of the extraordinary accident in Welwyn North Tunnel, which took place on Saturday 9 June 1866.

Back: The light at the end of one of many abandoned tunnels. There is now an invigorated movement to try to rescue abandoned railway tunnels and upcycle them into bicycle tracks and/or pedestrian routeways. (Courtesy of Phill Davison)

First published in 2017

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

This ebook edition first published in 2017

All rights reserved

© Rosa Matheson, 2017

The right of Rosa Matheson to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB ISBN 978 0 7509 8309 9

Original typesetting by The History Press

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Introduction

1 Accidents

Box Tunnel – Just How Many Lost Their Lives?

Clayton Tunnel – A Considerable Sensation

Bramhope Tunnel – And Mausoleum

Queensbury Tunnel – A Real Monster

Pity the Poor Platelayer!

Sapperton Tunnel

2 Collapse – ‘Buried Alive in Railway Tunnels’

Watford Tunnel – Buried Alive

Northchurch Tunnel – ‘First Lives Lost’

Wallers Ash Tunnel – ‘An Accident of a Frightful Description’

Bramhope Tunnel – Train Buried

Cambrian Railway Tunnel – Fatal Accident

3 Collision

Clayton Tunnel – An Accident of a Most Appalling Nature

Blackheath Tunnel – Two Trains Wrecked

Canonbury Tunnel – ‘Not One, Not Two, Not even Three, but Four … and Nearly Five … Trains in a Tunnel!’

Frodsham Tunnel – A Dreadful Railway Accident

4 Explosion – And a Short History of Explosives

Wickwar Tunnel – Gunpowder Accident

Hose Tunnel – A Matter of Three Candles

Cymmer Tunnel – Fifteen Persons Killed

5 Fire

Welwyn Tunnel – ‘A Calamity So Astounding’

Glasgow Tunnel – Mission Impossible

6 Flood

Scottish Tunnel – Drowned

Severn Tunnel – Enough for a Lifetime

Bibliography

Notes

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

There were many interesting ‘finds’ in researching this book – and not just the material; the helpful people were such a bonus. With so many tunnels researched there was always someone with a passion for it and I thank them for keeping the story alive in the many ways they do – societies, groups, blogs, websites, campaigns.

For all those interested in tunnels, especially railway tunnels, there is a treasure trove of a website – www.forgottenrelics.co.uk/tunnels – where one can not only find out about historical and current information regarding tunnels, but also about action and interest groups in respect of tunnels. Thanks to Graeme Bickerdike, tunnel historian and site editor, for use of material and helpful pointers. Much appreciated.

Many thanks to all at the ‘tunnels’:

Clayton

Very warm appreciation to David Porter for his time and patience, comments and great graphics.

Box

Alan Payne of a great local history group (www.boxpeopleandplaces.co.uk) offered enthusiastic support, interest and helpful material as well as an introduction to another invaluable contact, David John Pollard, who provided photographs and text. Also thanks to Doreen Lindegard from Bristol Family History Society for use of her very useful research

.

Bramhope

Help comes from many unexpected quarters and one such was Carl Andrews of ‘Soul Architects – Spirit and Place’ based in Nottinghamshire.

The two Margarets of Otley Museum and Archive – both were helpful above and beyond the call of duty, such is their passion for their subject.

Stanley Merridrew, president of Wharfedale Family History Group, and fellow member Graham Firth were quick and resourceful in their response, providing very helpful material.

Northchurch

To ‘old friend’ Chris Heaven for swift action and lovely graphics.

Severn

To long-time supporter and friend Jack Hayward for generously sharing his research, writings and private collection with me.

Sapperton

To Howard Beard, chair of the Stroud Local History Society, for useful photographs.

Queensbury

To the Save Queensbury Tunnel Group whose mission is to reclaim Queensbury Tunnel because ‘the tunnel is an asset, not a liability … it could and should serve a future purpose as a transport link, echoing its intended role’. They ask the question: ‘If we can celebrate and protect a pile of stones that used to be a castle, why are we content to turn our backs on great civil-engineering feats and allow dereliction to take hold?’ Please lend your support to this worthwhile campaign.

Also, many thanks to:

Phill Davison for use of his amazing tunnel photographs. Phill’s interest in and passion for old railway lines has served as an inspiration for others. Check out his ‘Secret Leeds 2’ and the Gildersome Tunnel story on Facebook – fascinating.

Rog Frost, curator at the lovely Market Lavington Museum, for taking the time to send wonderful pictures from their Alf Burgess Photographic Collection showing real-life navvies at work. Do visit their website and blog, it is a treasure – www.marketlavingtonmuseum.org.uk.

Linda Rollit of Berkhamsted Local History and Museum Society for immediately sending out a call to arms and providing newspaper clippings. ‘Picture the Past’, image no. PTPD003790 (men at Cowburn Tunnel), is reproduced courtesy of their not-for-profit project that makes historic images from the library and museum collections of Derby, Derbyshire, Nottingham and Nottinghamshire freely available at the click of a button to anyone with access to the Internet, anywhere in the world. You can see over 100,000 pictures at www.picturethepast.org.uk – truly brilliant.

To anyone who has been unacknowledged for help given or for use of photographs and graphics; I hope you will believe it was a genuine oversight or inablility to track them, and that I truly appreciate the help and support given.

As always, thanks to my editor, Amy Rigg, for her calm support, and to my wonderful family who are at the centre of all I do.

INTRODUCTION

TUNNEL – a noun and a verb depending on the word in front of it: a tunnel; to tunnel.

Tunnels create a frisson of excitement. Tunnelling and entering a tunnel captures the dark side of the imagination, even in this modern age. It suggests a journey into the unknown, one that is fraught with hidden and potential dangers. In 1854, after a tunnel collapse, The Spectator posed the question, ‘How do we know that all tunnels are not in a gradual process of disintegration?’, implying that maybe all tunnels, especially railway tunnels, were always in this process, and, therefore, always vulnerable. Tunnels have a metaphysical significance – an enveloping darkness followed, hopefully, and eventually, by light. Hence the well-used saying ‘there is light at the end of the tunnel’.

To tunnel is to make a tunnel – to tunnel through or under something, usually to get to the other side – but one can also tunnel into something. Man has been creating tunnels over many thousands of years, for many reasons: to get at what is inside the earth; to hide in; to get from one place to another; to wage war. Cavemen created tunnels into the hills to make caves for dwellings; on Easter Island challenging tunnels led to spaces of religious significance; captives in times of war tunnel to escape; whilst others dig tunnels for sanctuary. (In the 1840s a well-known and wanted chartist, Joseph B. Anderson, spent ‘three weeks in the under-ground construction of Bramhope Tunnel, his food being daily supplied to him by his friends’.1) There are those who tunnel for profit, and then there are some who tunnel for fun.

Today, tunnelling is a big industry – a specialist industry. There are magazines and associations all about tunnelling. There are even videos on ‘how to make your own tunnel’! What then, you may ask, is a tunnel? The definition of what constitutes a tunnel can vary widely from source to source, country to country. The Oxford English Dictionary offers the following definition: ‘An artificial underground passage, especially one built through a hill, mountain or under a building, road, or river.’ A tunnel may be for foot or vehicular road traffic, for rail traffic, or for a canal. The following explanation is from The British Tunnelling Society’s website:

There are many reasons why tunnels or other underground excavations are required, and many methods for their construction. What they all have in common is the need to provide a conduit or space under or through an obstacle, be it a mass transit system under a busy city centre, a high-speed rail line underneath a mountain range or sea, a road link underneath a river, an oil, gas or electricity pipeline, or a water supply or sewer tunnel for a city. The method employed for the construction of a tunnel depends on the length and size, but most importantly on the ground and groundwater conditions through which the tunnel is built.

In planning a tunnel it was necessary to know the geology, and particularly the characteristics, of the different types of rock, clay and sand the tunnel would pass through, and to lay out the line of the tunnel accurately. From that, if necessary, a series of exploratory shafts would be sunk along the line of the tunnel to establish the geology. The information gained would form the basis of the contracts and tenders to dig the tunnel. The exploratory shafts at this stage could be enlarged into working shafts for taking out the material the tunnel was dug through, and for taking in materials such as timber for centres, bricks, mortar and also for pumping out water if it became a problem. The working shafts could be retained as airshafts.

As tunnels are essentially holes, the simplest and easiest way to go about making one was to start digging a hole, and keep digging until one got out the other side of where one wanted to come out. This Heath Robinson cartoon of the Severn Tunnel shows it delightfully. (Author’s)

The resident engineer and his assistants would monitor progress, or lack of it, and report to the chief engineer. If the engineer was satisfied he would sign the certificates and the contractor could draw his payment from the company’s bank. At the end of it all there would be a massive clearing-out sale of materials, horses and sundries.2

Tunnels were always the hardest part of railway creation, and so were not undertaken lightly. For the railways a tunnel was dug because it was the only, or cheapest, solution to a problem – the problem usually being a hill, a mountain, river, a metropolis or, as quite often happened, an irate landowner who did not want his view ‘despoiled’ by a smoking monster pulling a trainload of the common people! Edgar Schieldrop elegantly sums up the problem of trying to get a railway line over hills and mountains:

However clever and ingenious one may be in twisting and turning a railway line through a rising valley, there usually comes a time, sooner or later, when all ways are stopped and one has to decide to tunnel through instead of going over the top. The railway is a very poor climber, even in the hands of the most resourceful engineer.3

The cleverness and ingenuity of those early resourceful engineers was severely tested in railway developments, particularly in creating tunnels, but what they created was often awe inspiring. These are the words of James Drake as he travelled on the London and Birmingham Railway line:

Whilst contemplating modern works of such astonishing magnitude as this, we cannot avoid instituting a comparison between them and the lauded monuments of antiquity; and much as the cyclopean structures of the ancient world have ben admired and extolled, we think they are equalled, if not surpassed, by many of the stupendous works which have lately been completed in our own country. The railway along which we are travelling is, doubtless, as great a work as the pyramids of Egypt’ and the tunnel through we are passing [Grand Kilsby Tunnel] is just about the same length [2,938 yards (1.4 miles or 2.2km)] as the passage which Xerxes cut through Mount Athos and which occupied his army for three years.4

Many of these tunnels, particularly their portals and even their shafts, which were iconic then, remain iconic now. Just think of Box, Bramhope, Primrose Hill, Clayton and Kilsby, to name a few, they all shout, ‘Look at me!’ Happily we too have come to appreciate their cultural worth. Two of the large ventilation shafts, some 60ft (18.29m) in diameter, of the Grand Kilsby Tunnel (designed by Robert Stephenson, supervising engineer for the line) were given a Grade II* listing by English Heritage in 1987. Nowadays we may wonder at the Victorian taste for decorating, perhaps over-decorating, something of utilitarian use such as a railway. Such finessing, however, tells us a lot about the Victorian’s attitudes towards their railways and tunnels, an attitude that reflects their aspirations and ambitions for the nation as a whole.

Tunnels come in different types, sizes and lengths (as well as varying degrees of unpleasantness). An article published in The Spectator (30 September 1854) gave a description, as explained to them by ‘an engineer’:

Tunnels are of various kinds; some cut through solid rock and needing no lining, some through broken masses, some sand and gravel, and some clay; and in addition to this, some are wet and some are dry. When not solid rock, the tunnels are lined with arches of brick or of stone, some set in cement and some in common mortar. If the foundations were perfectly secure against sinking, rapidly hardening cement would be best. In other cases, mortar which sets slowly is best. The foundations of the arch are usually an inverted curve of brick or stone, on which is laid ballast, on the ballast the sleepers’ and on the sleepers the rails.

From their very beginnings people developed a curiosity, even a fascination, for railways and their tunnels. The railway companies were very pleased to benefit from this attraction and for a small sum laid on guided tours, which were eagerly taken up by those brave, or foolhardy, enough to chance it. The first report of such can be found in the Lancaster Gazette, 30 June 1827:

LIVERPOOL AND MANCHESTER RAIL-ROAD – THE EDGEHILL TUNNEL

The extraordinary and stupendous undertaking of excavating a wide and lofty tunnel, from the shores of the Mersey, under the town, to the other side of Edge Hill, for the passage of carriages to the line of the open railway, is proceeding with as much celerity as the nature of the work will permit. The excavating began at different points on the line of the intended tunnel, the principal ‘eyes’ being one in White Street, one in Duke Street and one in Mosslake-fields …They are all provided with the usual mining machinery for the hoisting up of the loose material, and the tunnel being driven east and west from each eye, the miners will meet each other in the middle.

The visitor may descend ‘the eye’ in one of the buckets, with perfect security, and it is a novel and interesting sight to those who have never seen mining in its grander operation to take a view of the noisy operations going on below, the echo of which is confined to the subterranean passage. Though numerous candles are burnt by the workmen, the darkness of the cavern is barely dispersed; the sound of the busy hammer, chisel and pick-axe, the rumbling of the loaded wagons along the railway leading to the further ends of the cavern to the pit, and the frequent blasting of rock, mingling with the hoarse-sounding voices of the miners, whose sombre figures are scarcely visible, form an interesting ensemble of human daring, industry and ingenuity.

It is not only incredible that such a dangerous practice – blasting, with the men still in the tunnel – happened regularly, but also that they were happy to invite visitors into such a situation. Such working conditions would, and inevitably did, lead to accidents – many of them life changing, others fatal. Perhaps the public would have been less enthusiastic about travelling up and down in a bucket having read the following report in a newspaper published a short time after:

Shocking accident:

At 8pm on Wednesday evening, as a party of six men were ascending in the bucket from the railroad shaft in Pitt Street, the horse which was drawing them up having been irritated by some idle boys, proceeded too far, and one man, named ARTHUR M’CONVIL, was caught between the wheel and the rope attached to the bucket, and was terribly crushed about the neck and chest before he could be extricated. M.G. LAMONBY, the surgeon, happened to be looking at the shaft at the time assisted in extricating the poor man, and immediately examined and bled him, and afterwards accompanied him to the Infirmary, where he now lies with little hope of recovery.5

Britain holds many ‘records’ with regard to railway tunnels that were created to surmount all different kinds of problems:

The first tunnel

Archaeologists in Derbyshire have found what they believe is the world’s oldest railway tunnel. The tunnel lies on the route of the Butterley Gangroad, a horse-operated railway built in 1793 to link the Cromford Canal with limestone quarries at Crich.6

The first purpose-built railway tunnel and station

Crown Street Station, Liverpool, 1827, was built by George Stephenson. A single-track tunnel 873ft long (266m) was bored by 300 miners/navvies from Edge Hill to Crown Street to serve the world’s first intercity passenger railway terminus station.7

The oldest used tunnel in the world

The 0.68 miles (1.1km) 1842 Prince of Wales Tunnel, in Shildon near Darlington, England, is the oldest sizeable tunnel in the world still in use under a settlement.8

First under water

The Thames Tunnel, built by Marc Isambard Brunel and his son Isambard Kingdom Brunel and opened in 1843, was the first underwater tunnel and the first to be built using a tunnelling shield. Although technically not built as a railway tunnel – it was originally used as a pedestrian tunnel – it was converted to a railway tunnel in 1869.9

First under a metropolis

The 2.08 miles (3.34km) Victoria Tunnel/Waterloo Tunnel in Liverpool was bored under a metropolis and opened in 1848. The tunnel was initially used only for rail freight and, later, freight and passengers serving the Liverpool ship-liner terminal. The tunnel’s route is from Edge Hill in the east of the city to the north end at Liverpool docks.10

First deep-level underground railway

The Mersey Railway Tunnel opened in 1886, running from Liverpool to Birkenhead under the River Mersey. By 1892 the extensions on land from Birkenhead Park Station to Liverpool Central Low Level Station produced a tunnel 3.12 miles (5.02km) in length.11

Longest underwater tunnel

The rail Severn Tunnel was opened in late 1886. It is 4.355 miles (7.008km) long, although only 2.2 miles (3.62km) of the tunnel is actually under the River Severn. The tunnel replaced the Mersey Railway Tunnel’s longest underwater record.12

Happily, a record that Britain does not hold is that of the largest number of deaths at one time caused by an accident in a railway tunnel. That belongs to Italy. On 2 March 1944 a freight train stalled over wet rails on a steep gradient in the Armi Tunnel near Salerno in southern Italy and around 520 people – illegal passengers (it was a freight not passenger train) and crew – were slowly overcome by carbon monoxide poisoning and died.

An illustration showing the workings of the machinery used to ventilate and drain the Mersey Railway Tunnel when it first opened in January 1886. Some undertaking! (Mersey Railway Company – PortCities Liverpool, public domain)

Little wonder then that in the early days of railways there was a real fear of tunnels, not only by passengers but also by society at large. Not only did they fear what could happen in them – ‘being mashed into a pummy’, to quote Charles G. Harper, the social commentator – but they were also concerned about what lasting effects they might have when one eventually came out. The papers carried many ‘letters of concern’ and editorial pieces on the subject, such as this one published in the London Evening Standard on Tuesday 7 March 1837:

Observations have been made by eminent medical men upon the effect that tunnels produce upon the human frame. The question is an important one, not only to those who are engaged in the construction of railways, but also to the public who are eventually to travel by them.

Drs Paris and Watson who visited the tunnel in progress under Primrose Hill in February 1837 came to the conclusion that:

The dangers incurred when passing through a well-constructed tunnel are no greater than those incurred when travelling upon an open railway … and the apprehension which has been expressed that such tunnels are likely to prove detrimental to the health or inconvenient to the feelings of those who go through them are perfectly futile and groundless.

The first description of the first ever passenger ride in a railway tunnel (soon to be the Liverpool & Manchester Railway) was written up in The Lancaster Gazette, August 1829:

On Friday, the grand railway tunnel, that runs under the town of Liverpool, from the back of Edge-hill to Wapping, was opened for the inspection of the public … Soon after two the Mayor and his friends, including several of the proprietors, took their place in a common railway waggon, fitted with seats for the occasion (the handsome machines intended for passengers not being yet finished), and being pushed to the mouth of the great tunnel, set off, down the gently-inclined plane, without horse or other drag, at a rapid rate, under the guidance of Mr Harding and his son, who regulated the speed of the machine by friction lever. The velocity of the machines was frequently stayed as it proceeded down this apparently interminable cavern, to prevent accidents on the passing crowds who walked up and down the roadway. This precaution, however, was scarcely thought necessary, for the thunder of the wheels was heard from one end of the tunnel to the other … after a delightful ride of about eight to ten minutes, the road taking a slight turn, brought the company again to daylight at the entrance of the tunnel near to Wapping.

This beautiful, romanticised drawing is from the series Coloured Views on the Liverpool and Manchester Railway (1833 revised edition) by T.T. Bury. The inside of Wapping Tunnel, connecting the Liverpool and Manchester Railway with Wapping Dock in Liverpool, as it was in the 1830s, would bear no resemblance to the actual reality of the tunnel. (Stapleton Collection, via the Bridgeman Art Library, public domain)

A decade later, once rail travel had been established, James Drake, in his book Drake’s Road Book of the London and Birmingham Railway (1839), gives a highly entertaining and atmospheric description of the experience of riding on the early trains behind a steam engine, through an early tunnel:

If, however, the traveller prefers keeping his seat and closing the windows which is certainly the most advisable plan [as opposed to hanging out of the window and looking around], he will find himself suddenly, and without a moment’s warning, plunged into worse than Cimmerian darkness,13 and hurried along through clouds of smoke and vapour; amid flying sparks, jarring atoms, rushing winds, and every sign of elemental strife; whilst stunning sounds, an a rattling, clashing din, form a hubbub, than which what Satan heard in his flight through the realms of Chaos and Old Night, could scarcely be more horrific. But let not the most timid traveller imagine that there is any real danger, although appearances are rather alarming, and the consideration that fifty feet of earth are suspended above, is somewhat startling, yet if he would close his eyes for the space of a minute, at the end of that period, he will find himself, like many thousands who have daily preceded before him, safely restored to the pure air and the light of day.14

One could not call it an encouraging piece. The Railway Traveller’s Handy Book, on the other hand, gives helpful hints in how to act on train journeys, from purchasing one’s tickets to how to act if one is unfortunate enough to encounter an accident. It is, in typical British fashion, wonderfully understated. Above all, it says one needs ‘coolness and judgement’. It advises, ‘When the train comes to a sudden standstill, at an unexpected stopping-place, it is usually a sign there is something amiss; but this something may be of very trivial moment.’ Should one actually be involved in an accident it suggests: ‘If a person be buried among the debris of the carriages, and still in possession of life and limb, one should endeavour to make his way out of the perilous position, in an upward direction, and if the windows be blocked up, force a passage in the best manner he can by the aid of a stick or umbrella.’ (All very good if one is a man, but what advice for the women?) For an accident in a tunnel it recommends ‘a person should grope his way along by the side of the wall, feeling with his hands, and keeping his body as close to the brickwork as possible’.15 Getting out and staying close to the wall was very sound advice! The gap between the tunnel wall and the outside rail was known as ‘the four foot’ and the gap between each set of rails was ‘the six foot’; both gaps played significant roles in accidents in tunnels.

The disused Miley Tunnel shows clearly the four-foot way (which was often less, i.e. three-foot something) between wall and outside rail that was the ‘safe’ passage for platelayers and other workmen inside the tunnel. The six-foot way lay between the two inside rails and was an extremely dangerous place to have to lie down in. (Courtesy of Phill Davison)

Years later, the health debate was still on going, especially as the tunnels grew longer and more ambitious. The making of Box Tunnel in the 1840s drew many gloomy predictions, foretelling that passengers would suffocate whilst travelling through its terrifyingly long length – almost 3,168 yards (1.83 miles or 2.9km). The debate centred on the travelling public – paying people who would be whipped in and out as speedily and as comfortably as possible before they were suffocated or lost their sense! No one appeared to be concerned for the hundreds of thousands of navvies as they picked, shovelled, blasted and bored their way in almost total darkness (apart from the flickering of their candles) through dank earth, treacherous rock and shifting shale, often ankle-deep, or knee-deep, in wet mud in malodorous atmospheres, inhaling obnoxious gases, working in claustrophobic and dangerous conditions, fearing for life and limb – not just for minutes but for days, weeks and even months on end.

Navigators – ‘Navvies’

Navigators – or navvies, as they were known – came into being with the building of the canals. The railway navvies became a distinct group because of the nature of their work, but they were not just a class, they were a special kind of community too. Social observers of the time noted the workforce consisted of three types of labourers: ‘labourers from the local district who were out of work; wandering labourers, often from Ireland; and a permanent group of labourers who had been employed in building the canals and railways for years.’16

With the development of the railways their numbers grew enormously, as did their big, bad reputation. The arrival of these men, and their women and followers, would create panic in villages and even towns. ‘The dread which such men as these spread throughout a rural community, was striking, nor was it without cause.’17