THE LIFE AND TIMES OF A DUKE

Martyn J. McGinty AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd. 500 Avebury Boulevard Central Milton Keynes, MK9 2BE www.authorhouse.co.uk Phone: 08001974150

© 2011. Martyn J. McGinty. All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 04/25/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4567-7794-4 (sc) ISBN: 978-1-4567-7795-1 (hc) ISBN: 978-1-4567-7796-8 (e)

Front Cover Photo: Th e Duke at Didcot (Courtesy P. Treloar)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Th inkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery © Th inkstock.

Th is book is printed on acid-free paper.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. Th e views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily refl ect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them. Born out of Tragedy and Riddles, his lineage traceable, unerasable, back through the great houses of Chapelon, Giffard, Stephenson, Belpaire and Watt, the Duke was laid to rust by the sea, a few meagre miles from the mills that shaped the steel that formed the frames that bore the machine that Crewe built.

Time passed and the Duke was made well again by kindly strangers.

“Crewe, Crewe where were you in my hour of want and rue?” sighed the Duke, returned from exile, among friends, embarrassing Harrison, Derby and the Jonahs to boot, for his hour had finally come.

v ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Although strenuous attempts have been made to identify and contact those with copyright to the artwork in this publication, in some instances these eff orts failed. In these cases if such individuals or establishments to whom the photographs are attributed recognise their work, I would very much welcome communication via e-mail: [email protected]

In addition, I would especially like to thank Ron Mitchell, Graham and Keith Collier, Peter King and Peter Kenyon for their generous assistance with technical, historical, anecdotal and photographic content.

For the computer-graphics contribution to the dust-jacket my thanks are due to James Hitchcock

Lastly, I cannot adequately thank my long-suff ering wife Jessica without whose computer and typing skills this book would have fallen by the wayside.

vi Contents

Acknowledgements vi Prologue ix Introduction xi Creation 1 Use, abuse & disuse 37 Illustrations 45-54 Th e whys and wherefores of restoration 55 Rescue and rebirth 65 Re-creation 75 Th e improvements 83 A retrospective 90 Epilogue 98 Bibliography 103 Author’s note 105

vii Prologue

In 1952 one of the most serious rail crashes in this country occurred in Harrow and Wealdstone station. I will not dwell on the horror of the incident – it has already been well documented. (Ghouls may wish to refer to Rolt or Nock.) Although I wasn’t there, I was at an impressionable age and I still fi nd it distressing to contemplate. Th ere is, however, one aspect of the event which is relevant. Two of the four locomotives involved were damaged beyond viable repair at a time when designs for a replacement fl eet of standardised locomotives were being drawn up by R. A. Riddles and his team. Authority was sought and granted to replace one of them (46202 Princess Anne) with a similar unit of comparable power classifi cation (8P). Come the hour, cometh the man: this was to be Riddles’ magnum opus, but, as we shall see (through no fault of the designer) it was inherently fl awed and eventually laid aside in 1962, much to my personal and intense disappointment. From the moment I had seen this locomotive mentioned in a 1956 Ian Allan ABC I was hooked. It was powerful, elegant and, above all, unique. I determined there and then that, living in Bath, the best way to get to see it would be to visit Euston whenever possible. Th is of course led to an exponential and irresistible expansion of my new interest in railways and of my horizons: in a couple of years I knew London better than I knew nearby Bristol and, equipped with a loco-shed directory, was wandering the length and breadth of the country………… Oh happy days! I saw the Duke several times at Euston and Camden and did not realise, in my naïve admiration, what a trial it must have been for the fi remen who struggled with its intransigence. So push came to shove, the scent of diesel was on the wind, and after a mere eight years ‘71K’ was cast aside, like a pair of old shoes, plundered for the laces. Years passed and for a while I became absorbed in more pressing matters – earning a living, putting a roof over my head and so forth. I

ix heard about Barry scrap-yard and Dai Woodham but, like so many others, thought that things had gone too far with 71000. However, a small group of determined and far-sighted people shared a dream: to rescue, restore and possibly perfect this machine. Th is is the story of the fulfi lment of that lofty ambition: ‘Th e Impossible Dream’.

x Introduction

Before attacking the subject proper it is probably valuable to provide some insight into the mind and character of the designer, R. A. Riddles. His biographer, Col. H. C. B. Rogers, probably knew him as well as anybody, and this section draws heavily on his reminiscences of, and association with, Riddles. I have made considerable eff orts to discover details of Riddles’ early life (family, schooling and the like) but have been unable to glean anything certain. I admit that my endeavours have not been exhaustive but there again this is not intended to be a biography. On the whole though, one gets the strong impression that he was a rather private man who kept his home life very separate from his work and indeed why should he not? As a close friend of Riddles, Col. Rogers makes no mention of such matters at all and therefore I have inferred that this was Riddles’ wish. Accordingly, I have ceased probing and will leave things as they are. His training and practical experience started in 1909 with a premium apprenticeship at Crewe on the London & North Western Railway. Bowen- Cooke had just replaced George Whale as Chief Mechanical Engineer (to the chagrin of Richard Trevithick, the other candidate for the post, who then went to Wolverhampton). Bowen-Cooke was soon promoted and replaced by W. W. H. Warneford, who was impressed with Riddles and gave him much encouragement. Such kindly interest no doubt helped him to accept the eleven and threequarter-hour days, the unpaid evening classes from 7 – 9 and the scant remuneration of 4 shillings per week – the equivalent of about £50 per week taking relevant factors into account – (would an apprentice nowadays go to work for that?). He evinced a capacity for skilful and arduous work and for worming out the reasoning behind various practices that seemed anomalous. He observed that good management largely is getting the best out of workers

xi by identifying their merits rather than thinking the worst of any man, and being able to pick the valuable opinion from the rag bag of many. Probably in his fi nal year he was moved to Rugby to broaden his experience and in 1914 he was granted leave to enlist in the Royal Engineers and went to France, where he was given a commission and, sadly, seriously wounded at the Western Front. Th is rendered him unfi t for further active service but had a totally unpredictable result: he was posted, in a supervisory capacity, to a works company engaged in building construction on Salisbury Plain. Th is fortuitous experience would stand him in good stead in years to come. When hostilities ceased, Bowen-Cooke off ered Riddles his old job back at Rugby. When Bowen-Cooke died in 1919, H. P. M. Beames, previously Works Manager, succeeded him, and from that moment onward Riddles was on the way up. (Beames had obviously had him in his sights for some while!) By the end of December 1920 Riddles was Assistant to Works Manager at Crewe - an almost ballistic ascent, but totally justifi ed. Reorganisation put him in charge of progress and inspection and culminated in his successful reorganisation and rebuilding of Crewe Works. Recognition of this came in promotion to Assistant Works Superintendent at Derby and Beames was the foremost in wishing him well. Come 1931 Riddles was back at Crewe in a similar position under F. A. Lemon as the result of a general shake-up and, shortly afterward, Stanier arrived. His transfer from Swindon to another railway company after nearly 40 years’ service is quite a milestone in railway history and deserves at least a short note. At some point after 1930, Sir Josiah Stamp, Chairman of the L.M.S.R., decided the company needed a thorough shake-up. Accordingly fresh blood was sought for the Operating Department. Sir Harold Hartley (Vice Chairman and F. A. Lemon, Works Superintendent (successor to Fowler who had been sidelined into research and development) realised that they had to have an outsider or set Crewe at loggerheads with Derby. So they cast their net realising that, valuable though he was, Stanier at Swindon was not realistically open to promotion from his position as Collet’s right- hand man because they were of almost equal age. So Stanier went to Crewe (and, ironically, had his old master Beames as his deputy, the L.M.S.R. working in mysterious ways its wonders to perform). It wasn’t until the end of 1932 though that the man Anderson (Motive Power Superintendent) retired and this made possible a whole

xii succession of changes in personnel, the last tremors in the ‘big shake-up’ to general good eff ect. Stanier had been quick to spot Riddles and by 1933 had him as his assistant in London and doubled his salary! However, in 1937, as a result of internal politics, Riddles was swapped for Ivatt in Scotland - under protest, it eff ectively being a demotion. Riddles argued for and got the job title changed to Mechanical and Electrical Engineer, Scotland. (An interesting result of these shenanigans was due to the Chief Offi cer (Establishments): he was insulted at having been kept in the dark and in revenge arranged an increase in salary for Riddles and even permitted him to charge for some of his removal expenses!) In January 1939 Riddles took the Coronation Scot to tour America, a sortie fraught with stressful incidents, but returned triumphant in May to the anticlimax of St. Rollox. He need not have worried: the humdrum was soon enlivened by the clamour of the ’phone. Sir Harold Hartley, who had previously disappointed Riddles by sending him to Scotland, had, on the eve of World War II, recommended him as Head of the newly- formed Directorate of Transportation Materials. Riddles was initially rather defl ated by the thought that the L.M.S.R. had let him go so easily, and at one stage expressed his wish to return. Th e response was to give him more to do and ever-increasing areas of responsibility. Riddles addressed this development with his customary fl air for choosing (and getting) the right man to fi eld for him. One of his most urgent needs was a 2-8-0 of proven ability for freight work. Accordingly he approached Stanier and asked for the assistance of his Chief Draughtsman, T. F. Coleman. He needed him to discuss the production problems with the North British Locomotive Company (N.B.L.C.), who eventually built 158 2-8-0s to Stanier’s design. (Another 50 came from Beyer-Peacock in Manchester and a further 51 were sequestered from the L.M.S.) Th at Riddles was at once practical and shrewd is evidenced by his brilliant ‘Austerity’ locomotive designs of which he anticipated adverse criticism. He remembered some sound advice he had been given years before – that the eye is naturally drawn to the chimney of any locomotive. Th erefore, if one wants to focus criticism, use the chimney. Accordingly, he made it squat and disproportionate, and even this had an unexpected advantage: when he came to the 2-10-0 design his dumpy chimney was just right for the tightest loading gauge profi le in Britain. Incidentally, the 2-10-0 was acclaimed one of the few masterpieces of locomotive

xiii engineering of its time. It would steam on 75% rubbish, go round tight curves with facility, cope with rotten lightweight track and was cheap and easy to build and maintain. (Th e North British Locomotive Company was the principal manufacturer and in recognition of his achievement and association with the company Riddles was presented with a gold copy of the key to Hyde Park Works in Glasgow.) Th e N.B.L.C., incidentally, was a quite remarkable institution with enormous capacity in its three factories in Glasgow, the Hyde Park, Queen’s Park and Atlas works. Th ey were the ideal producer of the fi rst 50 Royal Scots at a time when the L.M.S.R. was desperate for a solution to its motive power problem, but temporarily lacked the means to supply it. To get a locomotive from the drawing board to full production in a few months was the measure of the N.B.L.C, and on the face of it was little short of miraculous when one considers that they gave so little trouble. Th e problems were restricted to piston valve rings and the Midland design of axle box insisted on by the purchaser’s man Anderson. Once Stanier got his hands on them the faults were gradually eliminated and later taper boilers fi tted, culminating in one of the fi nest locomotive designs ever produced. As a result of his contribution to the war eff ort, Riddles was awarded the CBE in 1943 and returned to the railway on August 1st of that year as Chief Stores Superintendent after S. J. Symes, glowing with accolades from all he had worked with. Great changes were about to take place. Stanier retired in 1944 to be replaced by Fairburn, who died suddenly in October 1945. Riddles wondered if he might be the replacement: he had the seniority, the ability and the experience. But no, Ivatt who had been C.M.E. in all but name since 1942, got the job. Riddles was shaken. It turned out to be a premature reaction. Th e Board had known that Sir Harold Hartley was to retire and fi ve days later invited Riddles to accept the now vacant position of Vice Chairman. (For the second time in a week, Riddles had been wrong-footed!) Of course, he accepted. Towards the end of 1947 Riddles was off ered the post of Member of the Railway Executive for Mechanical and Electrical Engineers. On refl ection he realised that this would be the equivalent of C.M.E. for British Rail. He envisaged diffi culties but considered that, all in all, he had no choice but to accept. He was, after all, going to have the most responsible job in the history of steam in this country – a once in a lifetime opportunity, a fi tting culmination to almost 40 years’ experience and achievements.

xiv He had no time to bask in the warmth of satisfaction – in a couple of months the mooted nationalisation would become fact and he had a fl eet of engines and rolling stock to make fi t for the new regime. And so, in his own inimitable manner, he drew round him a formidable team and produced a standard range of locomotives to carry BR into the ’60s with few problems. Indeed, the 9F which was, after all, a freight engine, was noted for its ability to perform more than adequately on express passenger duties and was used to great eff ect to prolong the life of the Somerset & Dorset line. It was fi tting that Riddles’ last important act in his executive role, was to lay the foundation stone of the Crewe Locomotive Works Training School on 22nd September 1953: Crewe was where he had learned his craft 44 years before, and just over a week later he retired with all the compliments and congratulations that might be expected for a man of so many accomplishments. Oh, there was one other matter: the 8P Pacifi c.

xv

Chapter 1 Creation

Although 71000 was actually constructed at Crewe, as No. 1 in order E486 (Lot 234), the design and development work was carried out at Derby. Th e team was instructed to proceed in conjunction with British Caprotti [hereafter A.L.E. (or Associated Locomotive Equipment Ltd.)] In view of this instruction from Riddles, it is on the face of it puzzling to observe that, instead of the Kylchap exhaust design advocated by A.L.E., the Swindon design of double blast pipe and chimney was used – to detrimental eff ect. Th e Kylchap exhaust is one of several multi-jet types available, including those of Lemaitre and Professors A. Giesl-Gieslingen and L. Porta. (It is diffi cult to be certain how to spell ‘Lemaitre’ correctly as I have encountered the above – Townroe & Winkworth; le Maitre – Cox; and Lemaître – H. A. V. Bulleid: as to correctness responses are invited via the publisher, though I suggest the last to be correct). Th e design itself has fi ve jets on a one foot pitch circle and was favoured by Bulleid for his Pacifi cs and Q1s and in his modifi cations to Maunsell’s Lord Nelsons and Schools and Urie’s King Arthurs. Th e Giesl ejector has been tried in Britain at least twice, fi rst on 92250 and then on 34064 Fighter Command in 1962 and consisted, in its fi nal form, of seven longitudinally placed jets set fanwise through an angle of about 25 degrees with an oblong chimney to suit. Dr L. D. Porta’s ‘Kylpor’ exhaust was, like Chapelon’s ‘Kylchap’, a development of the Kylälä principle of 1919. Porta’s work was restricted to South America (Brazil and Argentina in particular) and was much admired

1 Martyn J. McGinty by Chapelon when they met in 1951. Porta’s work continued successfully into the 1970s when most other countries, perhaps mistakenly, had opted for electric or diesel propulsion. Th e Kylchap arrangement found general approval in Britain and was considered to be the most eff ective by those who chose it – but numerically it can be argued that, in view of Bulleid’s work, the Lemaitre type was more common. Th e general advantage of multi-jet systems lies in the more diff use and even draw on the fi rebed – rather like the diff erence between a fan and a pair of bellows. Th is reduces the size and quantity of particles drawn through the tubes and ejected from the chimney. With regard to the Duke it seems that history is doomed to repeat itself. Gresley visited Chapelon in 1925 (following a visit and report by his principal assistant, O. V. S. Bulleid) and returned with a set of drawings (and an enthusiasm) for the Kylchap exhaust. It was discovered (embarrassingly enough) by Chapelon, who visited England in 1930, that the construction of the Kylchap exhaust, which had been fi tted to two of Gresley’s ‘Shire’ class 4-4-0s, had been bungled. Th e importance of the details of the design had not been understood. However, rather than put matters right and learn (and profi t) from this mistake, a rather petulant attitude resulted in the removal of these ‘foreign’ devices. It was preferable, apparently, to regress and to wallow in the bliss conferred by ignorance. Th e answer to the apparent enigma lies, I believe, in the chronology of J. F. Harrison’s career and infl uences upon him during the early 1950s when he was Chief Mechanical Engineer at Derby. In 1948 Harrison was obviously pro-Kylchap as he arranged for 60539 to be so fi tted. Th e steaming was perfectly acceptable and so another fi ve A2s became recipients and were the better for it. Yet at some time between then and 1956 Harrison, by then at Derby, seems to have undergone some mysterious mental inversion, turning completely against the Kylchap exhaust, and becoming as slavishly devoted to Swindon’s product as his Eastern Region counterpart, K. J. Cook. I use the word “slavishly” advisedly. When P. N. Townend, Shed Master at King’s Cross, so desperately needed more of his beloved A4s to be fi tted with the Kylchap blastpipe/chimney arrangement, the Chief Mechanical/ Electrical Engineer practically stood on his head in his attempts to frustrate the result. Townend, eventually used ‘the system’ and appealed to the General Manager as, due to an administrative quirk, the C.M.E.E. had no jurisdiction over depots. (Th e worth of small mercies can be beyond

2 Th e Life and Times of a Duke the price of pearls, a fact more often noted with the mordant perspicacity of hindsight than the simple joy of relief.) Be that as it may, he got his Kylchap exhausts at minimal expense and a stud of locomotives that were much improved and a joy to work with. Th ose interested in the minutiae of the bureaucratic wrangling and obfuscation that Townend had to endure (simply to save over two tons of coal on a trip to Scotland and back) should refer to ‘Top Shed’ (see bibliography.) At that rate the £200 modifi cation paid for itself in a few months and made a lot of crews and staff much happier in their work. Once this Sisyphean inertia had been overcome the A3s were made recipients of the same changes with much the same results. I fi rmly believe that, somewhere along the line (pardon the pun) Harrison and Cook (devotee of all things Swindon) aligned their beliefs in their equivalent exalted positions (they certainly collaborated, albeit successfully, on the improved middle big end for the Duke.) So we have Harrison at Derby undermining the draughting arrangements for the Duke in 1954 and the C.M.E. fi ghting the improvement of the A4s in 1956, all in the name of Swindon. Good grief, what the devil is it about these institutions? I suppose the cry will go up, “Circumstantial evidence.” Well, maybe, but sometimes it can be very compelling as, to quote Th oreau “when one fi nds a trout in the milk.” Th e problem is, managerial attitudes fi lter down to working men. Th e response to a change in the status quo can be swayed very easily by the example set by management and by any appropriate encouragement (or disparagement for that matter). So, when a certain general manager of the Western Region issued a written statement to the eff ect that “no British Railways standard locomotive was to be rostered for any train on which he proposed to travel” it is hardly surprising that the recalcitrant attitude to the new motive power became entrenched. (Managers’ instructions let no exceptions?) Riddles brought matters to a head in July 1957 when he summoned senior Western Region inspectors to “the Kremlin” (222, Marylebone Road) for a meeting with E. S. Cox and Bond, his principal assistants at the Railway Executive, to sort out the grievances. It transpired (predictably) that there was little or nothing to justify the complaints. Th e truth is that, apart from greater accuracy (accruing from the use of optical aligning equipment during mainframe construction) there was nothing remarkable (except the expense) about Swindon practices which had remained largely in limbo since Churchward’s time.

3 Martyn J. McGinty

“Aha!” I hear the Swindon devotees cry, “but what happened when Cook used Swindon methods to transform the A4s?” A valid question, but (a) if Gresley had not insisted on the continued use of Holcroft’s fi rst version of the derived valve gear for the middle engine, then such accuracy would not have been so important, and (b) the ‘cure’ also depended in very large measure on a redesigned middle big end. While we are on the subject, any true enthusiast who has ever thought in purely engineering terms about the alleged speed record held by Mallard, will have realised that to race a locomotive downhill until it breaks is not a true test of speed credibility at all. Consider, if you will, a 9F at 90+ and an A4 at 126+, take into account the comparative sizes of the driving wheels (5’ as opposed to 6’8 ½”) and the sizes and weights of the associated parts, do the dynamics and ask yourself which is the better locomotive: an A4 or a 9F? Th e 9Fs lapped it up so the answer is obvious, but let us be clear: the timing of Riddles’ birth gave him the advantage over Gresley, and allowed him more lessons of history to temper his designs, whereas Gresley was an innovator pushing back his contemporary boundaries – and rightly so. By the by, I remember reading an article in the April 1997 edition of Steam Railway magazine in which the author stated that there was a “serious problem” with running 9Fs at high speed. He implied that wear and tear on components like valve gear and pistons would be vastly accelerated by their unacceptably high linear velocity at 80 – 90 m.p.h. and went on to calculate this as being over 2000 feet per second. Well, I’m sorry to say that, while his math. is right, his opinion is largely unfounded. Th e fi rst point he made was that the ‘recommended’ maximum mean piston velocity should be between 1000/1200 ft./sec. He didn’t quote an actual source for these fi gures but contented himself by saying that they are due to decades of research by various railway companies. Th e man originally responsible for this anachronistic view was J. E. Anderson, at one time Works Assistant and Chief Locomotive Draughtsman at Derby (C. 1920) and several of his beliefs held the Midland Railway back for decades in the form of the ‘small engine policy.’ Th e fact is that taking worldwide contemporary practice around 1950, involving modern locomotives with high pressure and superheating, 2000 ft./ sec. piston speeds were a commonplace: as long as the lubrication and mechanical condition were adequate then no harm could result. Th e main problem with exceeding 1200/1500 ft./sec. with older saturated-

4 Th e Life and Times of a Duke steam locomotives was not just a mechanical one anyway, it was a twofold diffi culty concerning heat absorption and mean eff ective cylinder pressure which peaked at 1500 ft./sec. but after 1200 ft/sec. diffi culties arose which exceeded the engineering capabilities and expertise available at the time (1900 – 1920). During the all-too-short reign of the 9Fs they were used to good eff ect and without serious detriment to locomotive or infrastructure, notably by the Eastern and, perhaps amazingly, Western regions. P. N. Townend was Shed Master at Kings Cross in the ‘50s and was more than happy to put the 9Fs to work on passenger service and indeed one of them, 92196, was kept specially groomed for such work. (I recently obtained a copy of the detailed history of the 9Fs, published by R.C.T.S in 2008. I was pleased to note that the authors, Messrs Walford and Harrison, are pretty much in agreement with my observations.) Th ere were rumblings from the civil engineer at some stage about unsuitability and hammer blow, but these concerns were largely unfounded. Th is was due to the unusual balancing system on the 9Fs following H. Holcroft’s suggestion to O. V. S. Bulleid regarding the ‘Schools’ class (and later the S.R. Pacifi cs) where the balancing for rotational masses was viewed separately and diff erently from that required for reciprocating masses. Th e result when applied to the 9F was a lighter engine with much reduced ‘hammer blow.’ Th e Western Region made use of them (remarkably) for a while on the Cardiff – Salisbury leg of the Portsmouth trains, and for a while on the Cardiff – Paddington expresses. Th is latter use came to an end when it was realised by offi cialdom that they were heavy on water, following an instance where an out-of-course stop was made at Reading. Notwithstanding that, they were put to good use on the Somerset and Dorset from Bath to Bournemouth for several summers until its closure in 1962 after which they were still noted on the revised route of the ex-Pines Express via Basingstoke and sporadically on services from South Wales to the West Country. In summation, it has to be said that, if there had been any mechanical problem arising from running 9Fs to express timings, we would have heard about it long before April 1997. However, with regard to the comparison between 9Fs and Mallard, it has to be said that speed records are a contentious issue: in 1935 Th e Chicago, Milwaukee, St Paul and Pacifi c Railway tried out a high speed locomotive, the forerunner of the Hiawatha class, a 4-4-2, 2 cylinder

5 Martyn J. McGinty simple expansion machine built for them by the American Locomotive Company in Schenectady. With 7 ft driving wheels, a maximum boiler pressure of 300 lb per sq in, roller bearings and full stream lining, it bore all the hallmarks of a thoroughbred. Th is initial promise bore fruit: during extensive trials the needle of the speedometer was often reported off -scale against the stop-pin at 128 m.p.h. Bearing in mind the fact that the American mile is longer anyway (standardised fi nally as the international nautical mile) it is perhaps a matter of some conjecture as to exactly how fast this locomotive could go, but I think p.d.q. about covers it. Th e point is, this machine achieved this performance, not just once, but several times on level track and was none the worse for it. In Germany, in 1934, Borsig’s built two 05 class 3 cylinder 4-6-4s with 7ft 6½ in driving wheels, boilers pressed to 284 lb per sq in and fully streamlined. Th e purpose was to compete with the up-and-coming high speed diesel railcar “Th e Flying Hamburger” (sic.) Although this could average 80 m.p.h. its passenger capacity was limited so thoughts turned again to steam haulage. On test runs the 4-6-4s showed themselves easily capable of achieving the 200 k.p.h. that was intended (124½ m.p.h.) but there seems to have been no attempt to set a record for maximum speed. No doubt Borsig were more interested in reliability than fl ogging a willing horse downhill - the test runs were on level track and there were no hints of mechanical problems. Churchward, on the other hand, was so outstanding in his time that he could eventually aff ord to rest on his laurels, bequeathing his designs to his successor Collett, who saw no reason to rock the boat. Th is Sleepy Hollow thinking persisted so that from the crews’ and fi tters’ points of view, even after 1948, the locomotives were an ergonomic wasteland, the attitude to such matters being of the previous century. Working on the GWR must have been like belonging to some obscure and rather oddly ascetic sect: hard tip-up seats, oiling-round and disposal requiring the agility of a contortionist-cum-limbo dancer, and standing whilst working on the footplate more or less mandatory by dint of the layout and positioning of the controls. I wonder if fl agellation was encouraged off -duty? No? Well, OK: not that bit then. Anyway, it did not bode well for the evaluation of problems with the Duke in controlled road tests organised by Swindon under the supervision of S. O. Ell during 1959. Since the major problem (blast pipe and chimney

6 Th e Life and Times of a Duke design) was created by Swindon it therefore could not be a problem – Catch 22 if I’m not much mistaken, or perhaps I’m being far too modern. Th is does of course beg the question: Were the Swindon-built 9Fs superior to those built at Crewe? I have never seen or heard anything to support or refute the suggestion, but Swindon’s methods were more expensive without increasing mileage between major overhauls. I suppose it comes down to the criteria of acceptability in the end. But like it or not, there was a problem: the Swindon blastpipe/chimney arrangement was one ‘Ell’ of a way (!) to design an exhaust for a Caprotti-based locomotive and suff ered from fundamental (yet corrigible) faults. However, to reject the opinion of no less an authority than André Chapelon was unforgivable arrogance born, I believe, of contempt bred from a cosy familiarity with the absence of adverse criticism. (In 1955 Chapelon was at Rugby testing station to adjudicate in the great Crosti debate. (See E. S. Cox, B.R. Standard Steam Locomotives.) Th is presented the ideal opportunity to seek his views on the problems with the Duke. His considered opinion was, among other things, that the valve timings should be altered – to what they are now! Yet, his valuable advice was ignored because Swindon had already decreed in 1952 that the timings were correct, and so nothing got done……. Ho-Hum.) If the patient reader will forgive yet another brief digression, it occurs to me that Swindon has evinced a reputation for rubbing people up the wrong way almost from day one – starting with Brunel! Th e GWR had entered into an unfortunate agreement in 1841 in part regarding the Swindon refreshment rooms, which began to be treated as a licence to print money, with the concomitant decline in quality and standards. Th us in December 1842 we fi nd Brunel replying to a Mr Griffi ths as follows:

“Dear Sir, I assure you Mr Player was wrong in supposing I thought you purchased inferior coff ee. I thought I said to him that I was surprised you should buy such bad roasted corn. I did not believe you had such a thing as coff ee in the place; I am certain that I never tasted any. I have long ceased to make complaints at Swindon. I avoid taking anything there when I can help it. Yours faithfully, I. K. Brunel.” One suspects that Brunel might have been a bit of a ‘wag.’ It is said that he once, for expediency’s sake, drove a locomotive from Bishops Road

7 Martyn J. McGinty to Slough when the line was only half built (i.e. single track.) When asked what he would have done if he had encountered another coming towards him he is said to have replied: “Why Sir, I should have put on all speed with a view to driving him off by virtue of my superior force.” Hmmm…. possibly apocryphal, as he is also credited with saying that “I never dare drive an engine, although I always go upon the engine, because if I go upon a bit of line without anything to attract my attention I begin thinking of something else.” Returning to our subject, it must be born in mind that a steam locomotive is, perhaps holistically, a heroic attempt to create a live animal in metal. It lives by turning food (or fuel if you will) and water into energy. In its most refi ned form it is, therefore, an exercise in physiology, an almost visceral thing with its parallels of heart, stomach and lungs evident in the boiler, fi rebox, steam circuit etc. Stephenson began to realise it, Bulleid, Riddles and others believed it – Chapelon wedded his principles to that belief and practised the reality religiously. Darwin demonstrated the principle that Nature, in producing creatures superbly fi t for purpose (think of dolphins, cheetahs, gazelles and so forth,) had the advantage of millions of years of selective development. We, on the other hand, have the advantages of shared knowledge over time, well developed senses and intelligence. When we produce complex and sophisticated machines we try, for the most part, to emulate as far as possible the examples of nature and seek such a harmonious assemblage of components that it is indeed greater than simply the sum of those parts. Such was Chapelon’s philosophy, and it was evinced in Riddles’ concept of the Duke; but, to fail to adhere to these tenets is to fail in and to waste one’s endeavour. Th is was made abundantly clear by the aberrant design work in certain areas of 71000 and faults as built - and the glorious success of the rebirth. When Riddles gave his instructions to the design team, his reasons were sound and worthy of consideration. He was a damned good theoretical engineer and a thoroughly practical man in addition. He abhorred the thought of a needless complication and had hoped to build, in eff ect, a super-Britannia. He was, much to his frustration and disappointment, hampered by the skimpy British loading-gauge and so, as a good engineer, he sought (and found) an equitable and indeed elegant solution: if he couldn’t have two larger cylinders then he would accept three, but make the system work properly.

8 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

Th e pros and cons of this merit some discussion: a. if nothing else, 3 cylinders give a more even application of power strokes; b. initially Riddles was opposed to 3 cylinders because he wanted to avoid any repetition of the problems associated with the middle cylinder that Gresley had found when working 3 cylinder locomotives at speed (namely, over-running of the piston due to the valve events getting ‘off -beat’). However, Riddles reasoned that the problem had two basic causes: a. slogger in the derived motion accentuated by the fact that it was oscillatory in nature; 2. an unsuitable design of big end on the centre connecting rod.

Riddles decided that in order to cure these problems and, at the same time, avoid the expense and maintenance of a third independent set of valve gear, he would use a rotary system, (this, incidentally, would make the task of ‘oiling-round’ easier than on conventional locomotives) and he would incorporate a particularly robust and durable middle big end as jointly designed by K. J. Cook (Mechanical/Electrical Engineer, Eastern Region at Doncaster) and J. F. Harrison (ditto at LMS, Derby) which was actually a further development of the improved A4 type. Having decided on the use of three cylinders the question arose of which axle should take the drive from the middle engine. Th e classic Gresley layout was rejected with the drive from the middle cylinder being imposed on the leading axle. Th e arguments for or against divided drive raged for many years but I cannot see any meaningful substance in any of them. Whatever the truth here is, it lies in the old adage of ‘swings and roundabouts’: whatever designers thought they gained in one direction, it was off set in the other. In the case of the Duke it was a simple matter of expediency: together with the Caprotti valve gear, it allowed the use of the Class 7 boiler barrel. What is far more interesting is the method of assembly of built up crank axles. Th e fi rst successful attempt in Britain was by F. W. Webb in 1890 and the procedures were gradually refi ned until failures were almost unknown. Such results were facilitated by the development of hydraulic presses capable of several hundred tons force. Th e various stages of manufacture include the accurate machining of all areas of components, not simply the mating surfaces. Th is permits accurate balancing and

9 Martyn J. McGinty total control in the press-work involved. As the various components are assembled they are keyed to each other. Th is may seem to be a bit ‘belt and braces’ to the uninitiated but when a locomotive is subjected, albeit perhaps unintentionally, to abuse (such as slipping or the sudden cessation of slipping due to sanding perhaps unfortunately on one side of the locomotive only, or skidding) the torsional forces may momentarily be enormous and suffi cient to overcome a simple un-keyed interference fi t, i.e. where the inner component is slightly larger than the outer. (For many years the only lubricant used in this operation was tallow, but I’ve no doubt this has been superseded by some environmentally challenging synthetic.) Although failures of these assemblies were rare they were not unknown, but, that said, were almost never due to the method of assembly. Axle failures in general always caused immediate and grave concern, not only because of the potential danger but also for the reason stated above, as this implied faulty material or perhaps insuffi cient strength in some area. Th e problem that arose with the Merchant Navy pacifi cs in 1953 was, in reality, a special case created by complication beyond necessity. 35020 Bibby Line suff ered a fractured crank axle at speed but miraculously was only partially derailed. Th ere were no injuries and comparatively little infrastructure damage. Th e whole class immediately became suspect and the axles of all members were ultrasonically tested within a month. Six axles were replaced, of which two as a precautionary measure. Th e issue here is that the root cause of the fracture was found to be corrosion under the axle-mounted valve gear drive sprocket, probably as a result of ingress of water into the oil bath. Th is in turn threw suspicion on the WC/BB type and all 110 were subsequently checked, revealing two faulty axles and another six suspect: all were replaced. Th ere remains, however, the curious case of the Britannias when almost new: several of them exhibited symptoms of wheels moving on the axles. Th is was viewed with the appropriate concern and an attempt was made to prevent reoccurrence by subtly altering the method of assembly. Elimination of the 1/500 taper at the wheel seating, plugging of the hollow axles and insistence on strict adherence to hand-fi tting of the keys and keyways was deemed to be the once and for all cure – only for the trouble to reoccur nine times between 1958 and 1961!! My personal view is that, in this particular case, the various dimensions and stresses were very close to the acceptable extremes – therefore with the wrong combination of tolerances there were cases that strayed into

10 Th e Life and Times of a Duke the unacceptable. Equally, one saw in the case of 70005 an example where in combination all the slight variations produced a rare but happy permutation: this engine was tested to the limit and gave no sign of trouble, though of course afterwards it was modifi ed to conform with the rest of the class - just in case! (Unfortunately I do not know whether it was one of these in which the problem recurred after 1958.) Does it not fascinate that seemingly minor irregularities of little apparent consequence can, in their aggregation and orchestration with some wicked harmony, conspire to lay low the mightiest man-made creation? Which should we heed, hubris or Occam’s razor? Whatever the answer, this problem of confl icting tolerances led to a lot of adverse publicity and expense for the Ford Motor Company some years ago when it was decided to off er the option of a turbo-charged version of the engine in the ‘D’ series trucks. Th e basic problem was that head gaskets kept blowing. It took far too long, in my humble opinion to work out that the head bolts (at maximum length tolerance) were ‘bottoming out’ in the engine block drillings when these were at minimum tolerance. None so blind? Heigh-ho! Subsequent on the choice of rotary valve gear, a lively discussion followed amongst Riddles, E. S. Cox and George Fisher, a mechanical inspector with considerable experience of the Caprotti system. Th e various merits and demerits of the Poultney, Marten, Reidinger and Caprotti types were examined and ultimately, in view of the fi nal development in 1950 of the Caprotti type, this was the fi nal choice with the Reidinger gear a close 2nd. I think Riddles had nurtured a fondness for Caprotti gear for many years since his days at Crewe under H. P. M. Beames who had become interested in what was, at the time, a very unusual type of valve gear. At any rate, he engaged Riddles in fi tting the gear to some of the ‘Claughton’ 4-6-0s with the larger boilers. Riddles was favourably impressed: he could see that, with improvement, here was the way forward and so when the time came in 1952 for the fi nal breakthrough in the development of the gear by Tom Daniels and his team at Associated Locomotive Engineering, Riddles was ‘poised for the catch.’ (I strongly suspect the choice of Caprotti gear was pretty much a foregone conclusion.) In view of the fact that it is the Caprotti valve gear which contributes most to the phenomenal success of the design of this locomotive, it is I think worth discussing its makers and their history, the development of the gear and its principles.

11 Martyn J. McGinty

Th e inventor was an Italian, Arturo Caprotti, who was born in Cremona on 22.03.1881 and died in Milan on the 09.02.1938. His background was in automobile engineering with the Florence Motor Car Company and in 1911, as the result of a conversation with his tutor in Automobile Engineering at Milan University, he decided to try and apply motor technology to the steam locomotive, recognised as an ineffi cient machine with the mitigating qualities of robustness and simplicity. (Th ese factors allowed easy maintenance and repair, and also allowed the locomotive to function reasonably well even in a fairly run-down condition.) He therefore reasoned that the one area where there was scope for the greatest improvement without compromising the merits was where energy was primarily converted into movement: namely the steam circuit. An Austrian, Dr. Hugo Lentz, (born in South Africa on 21.07.1859) had already come to this conclusion and considered the poppet valve, which had been conceived in the early part of the 19th Century. At that time the skills, materials and machinery were not available to exploit fully this advanced concept, but, as time passed, one by one these factors ceased to militate against poppet valves and Lentz reintroduced the design for use in stationary engines and ships. Th ere followed a general and inexorable improvement in all facets of this design, and in 1905 Lentz felt confi dent enough to introduce the idea to steam locomotives. Over the following years improvements to this basic concept, with successive (and indeed successful) variations, have been made by other worthy engineers such as Cossart, Marten, Poultney, and Reidinger, variously using oscillating cams, concentric vertical valves, parallel horizontal valves, variable eccentric drive etc. etc. Th e principal diff erences between the Lentz and Caprotti gears are that the former derived its drive from conventional valve gears initially and fi nally (in the rotary cam type from 1921) from a worm drive. Lentz had success with his designs principally in France and Austria and later in Malaysia and in England on the L.N.E.R. and the L.M.S.R. He died in Austria on 21.03.1944. A brief description here of the Caprotti gear in its fi nal form is justifi ed. Th e chief diff erence between ‘conventional’ locomotive valves (slide or piston types) and poppet valves is that the variability of the former is derived from reciprocatory elements and the latter are moved bodily off their seatings only when the passage of steam is necessary. Th e second important diff erence is that each poppet valve has but one purpose: purely

12 Th e Life and Times of a Duke admission or purely exhaust. Th us we have a rapid, clean and clearly defi ned set of events – very diff erent from the rather hazy, more leisurely progressions of the other types. In the Caprotti gear the drive is rotary, the shaft being driven from a captive gearbox with a crank attached to a driving wheel, and the valves are vertical (one steam, one exhaust at each end of any cylinder.) Th ey are pushed up onto their seats by steam pressure so that when the regulator is closed they drop away, allowing the engine to coast. Th e principal advantage that the Caprotti gear has lies in the design of the rotary cams: their scroll form allows variation of the angular position of the cams, thus permitting infi nite variations of both admission and exhaust events. In order that the driver may ‘gear up’ the system eff ectively, the valve gear is contained in a cam box with a helically splined movable shaft and a series of stepped cams with variable angularity such that the entire train of events, both inlet and exhaust, is infi nitely changeable, producing workable cut-off s anywhere between 3% and 83%. (Th is is a much simplifi ed description of an intricate but wonderfully elegant system. Th ose wishing to know even more are referred to the bibliography for further rewarding study.) Th e total weight saving in this area on a three cylinder locomotive, assuming three sets of piston valves and Walschaerts valve gear, will be in excess of 50%, while the increase in effi ciency of the valve gear at full power will probably exceed 200%. Th is is because, at full power output, the Caprotti gear uses only 3 h.p. and, depending on its condition, the operation of conventional valve gear uses about 10 h.p. Th e Caprotti gear, by virtue of its design, is far less susceptible to ineffi ciency developing from wear and general deterioration of adjustment, whereas conventional gear, with the various linkages, sliding surfaces and so forth, is a comparatively rudimentary aff air. Th ese latter factors then, contribute to vibration and the tendency for the engine to get ‘off - beat’, the associated energy required to operate the valve gear increasing exponentially while the useful energy from the locomotive drops as a consequence of both the poor operative state of the gear and its direct eff ect on the locomotive’s actual performance as a generator of power. It will probably be helpful to those readers who are not technically gifted to consider at this point the basic diff erences between conventional locomotives (by that I mean the vast majority of those ever built) and those fi tted with Caprotti valve gear. Probably the best way to convey the principles is pictorially, and so, if one compares the photographs and

13 Martyn J. McGinty diagrams of the Caprotti valve-gear with the conventional valve-gear of the other locomotives shown, it is instantly obvious that, primarily, there is a considerable amount of weight in the components of conventional or piston valve gear. Much of this weight is bound up with reciprocatory motion while the locomotive is at work, with the inherent inertial drag. Furthermore, because of the very nature of this type of action, the opening and closing of steam ports cannot be swift and conclusive as with the cam- induced action of poppet valves and so to some extent hampers the fl ow of steam through the system. Th e great André Chapelon was convinced of the value of poppet valves, and in 1928, after Gresley had visited him, he (Gresley) tried Lentz poppet valves (of both the oscillating and rotary types) on members of the D49 class 4-4-0s – introduced in 1927. E. H. J. Lemon, Chief Mechanical Engineer on the Midland from 1931, was also attracted by the merits of poppet valves and, on taking over from Fowler, (there is justice after all) had fi ve of Hughes’ ‘Crab’ 2-6-0s fi tted up with Lentz rotary gear. However, back in Italy, Signor Caprotti had been beavering away and was convinced that he could do better. In 1921 his design of rotary valve gear was tried, having vertical poppet valves, actuated by independent steam and exhaust cams, the variations controlled by scrolls. Th e ingenuity of this design is readily apparent but is not entirely due to Caprotti, who had incorporated some fundamental principles from Radovanovic’s patent of 1899, originally properly attributed to Knoller. Th e drive for this arrangement on the Duke of Gloucester is elegant in its simplicity and is shown below. It does no harm to repeat that the system absorbs less than 3 h.p., even at maximum output. While Lentz and others were developing their various applications of the poppet valve principle, Signor Caprotti was improving even further his own gear. Th e outcome was of some importance in as much as Chapelon opted for the Lentz gear for compounds and preferred the Caprotti version for simple expansion. Th is is evidently the fundamental reason for Riddles’ choice of valve gear for the Duke. Considering these developments, it is thought-provoking that, of the D49s, the Lentz fi tted type (later B.R. Nos. 62720-24) were, in 1938, converted to Walschaerts gear with piston valves, but 365, Th e Morpeth, later 62768, was made the subject of an experiment with infi nitely variable rotary cam gear. (Unfortunately the dreaded Th ompson got his hands on it in 1942 and eff ectively destroyed it!)

14 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

In 1949, under nationalisation, thoughts again turned to poppet valves and 62763/4 were successfully fi tted up with Reidinger infi nitely variable R.C. gear. Following testing both at Rugby and in service the system was also applied in 1953 to the fi ve ‘Crabs’ that had been the recipients of Lentz gear in 1931. Th is is the point in history where there was a lot of research and development going on and consequently locomotive designers were rather spoilt for choice. Th e Lentz gear had been gradually improved at Lentz Patents Limited by an Austrian engineer, S. J. Kuretschka, succeeded in the late 1930s by A. Reidinger. Needless to say, these improvements were duly noted by A.L.E., whose work was closely aligned. Although strictly a ‘non sequitur’ as far as this work is concerned, I do think the rather enigmatic Albert Reidinger deserves to be given a mention, as his valve gear designs were closely aligned to the Caprotti/ A.L.E. equipment. I say enigmatic because he seems to have passed from this world like a shadow; I can fi nd, to date, no record of him as a human being. (Even though he was an I.Mech.E. member, their library has no biographical details.) I have, however, been lucky enough to contact a retired foreman fi tter (ex Leeds), D. Broughton, who worked on 62764, Th e Garth (Reidinger fi tted). As he was keenly interested in the gear, it was natural that he should become acquainted with Reidinger who, at that time, lived in London in Winchmore Hill, albeit quite a step from Leeds! (It is of interest to note that Peter Kenyon, later a founder member of the restoration team, also met Reidinger in the ‘50s when he was working for Babcock & Wilcox in London). Mr. Broughton tells me ‘2764’ was a strong engine compared with its classmates, but susceptible to abuse by drivers coasting in mid gear instead of the minimum 25% as detailed on a plate in the cab (or better still at about 45%). Such abuse would cause the gear to ‘chatter’ and eventually break the locking mechanism on the adjustment. Th e loco would then go way off -beat and become a failure. Reidinger was a gifted engineer and occupied a position at Locomotive Valve Gears Limited (he had the right to the Lentz patent) equivalent to Tom Daniels at A.L.E., viz. Chief Designer. Th e L.V.G.L. designs were manufactured under licence by the North British Locomotive Company in Glasgow. In 1953 the fi ve Lentz fi tted Midland Crabs (42818/22/24/25/29) were converted to Reidinger gear. (It is of interest that whichever was the fi rst to be converted had the vernier adjustment – as had been fi tted to 62764

15 Martyn J. McGinty

– in order to optimise the valve events. Th e fi nal position was then noted and applied as standard to the other four.) Th is decision was, however, somewhat anomalous, as in 1950 Tom Daniels and his team at A.L.E. had made their fi nal breakthrough with infi nitely variable exhaust valves in the Caprotti system, bolstering the choice of valve gear for 71000. It is discomfi ting to consider the not insignifi cant number of designers of locomotives over the years who attempted the use of poppet valve gear of one kind or another and, despite its undoubted effi cacy, left the idea by the wayside. Chapelon understood the value and realised that, in order to take full advantage of the merits, one had to ensure an adequate steam circuit and compatible draughting. Yet Chapelon was not secretive: he published all his fi ndings in that remarkable monument to a lifetime of brilliance “La locomotive à vapeur”. Th e whole scenario smacks of that suff ocating lethargy inherent in the oddly British attitude so prevalent among directors without foresight and workers without a leading light: “We’ve always done it this way: why mess about with something new-fangled when this will do the job?” Th ank God for Riddles. Th is whole area of experimentation with poppet valves in Britain seems, in retrospect, to be fl awed by that singularly British trait: Robinson, Bowen-Cooke, Gresley, Collett, Lemon, Ivatt and Harrison, all gave poppet valves a try and until Riddles came along no real success was achieved with the system. It seems that, on the footplate and the shop fl oor, such contrivances were regarded as foreign and therefore suspect. At design level there was a boyish enthusiasm hobbled by a certain inertia which prevented the total acceptance of the understanding given to Chapelon, viz. that poppet valves weren’t just ‘bolt-on goodies’: they had to be a part of a totally harmonious whole. Gresley ought to have understood this, having visited the great man, but still fell at the fi nal hurdle. I suppose a useful analogy would be the turbocharger on a modern internal combustion engine. One can’t simply buy one and cobble it into the breathing circuit. It requires, at the very least, a compatible intercooler and an effi cient integrated waste-gate, all preferably controlled by a good engine management system. However, doubt, inertia and suspicions notwithstanding, Derby seemed to get the message as 30 Standard 5s with Caprotti gear were built there eventually in 1956/7. Th ey were considered ‘stronger’ than the others of the class, but by whom and whether the opinion is totally justifi ed is diffi cult to establish. Sometimes such opinions, even when coming from

16 Th e Life and Times of a Duke experienced footplatemen, are shown to be subjective to other factors like the quality of the sound the engine makes when working hard, or how hard the fi reman has to work, irrespective of the handling abilities of the driver. Nevertheless, what is certain is that in the right hands the Caprotti Standard 5s, in good nick, could give “remarkable performances” (to quote E. S. Cox.) In particular, 73149/53 were timed uphill and down dale between Glasgow, Perth and Aberdeen, making mincemeat of the timetables, but the ones with Walschaerts gear could acquit themselves just as honourably if handled sensitively. Donald Beale on the Somerset & Dorset certainly knew and loved them, and C. J. Allen, having timed 73120 between Glasgow and Perth, described the performance as “undreamed of.” While on the subject of Scotland and standard locomotives it occurs to me that the ‘Clan’ type was for some reason always seen as the poor relation. It has been said too often that they were a fl op. Th e facts do not support such a view: the men at Polmadie (66A) and Carlisle, Kingmoor (12A) got sterling work out of them. One suspects a rather partisan attitude at some other depots like Haymarket (64B) (which had 72000/1/2/6/10 for a while) where they were detested. It would seem the crews were rather spoilt by their regular steeds, the V2s, A1s and the Kylchap A2s. It is regrettable that they were given the power classifi cation 6, for which they just barely qualifi ed: the natural reaction was to compare them with the V2s which of course were much more capable locomotives. It further exacerbated the situation when, in late 1958, on the Clans’ arrival at 64B, four V2s went to St Margarets (64A) ostensibly to help with the seasonal surge in the seed potato and sugar beet traffi c. On the face of it this was tantamount to an offi cial recognition that the Clans were not the equal of the V2s. Th e men doubled their determination to reverse this state of aff airs and no excuse was overlooked to refuse a Clan on grounds of mechanical defect. Th e V2s came back but the experiment was repeated the following year with the variation of less for more, i.e. 64A and 64B got two Clans each but 64B lost 5 V2s. Enough was enough – by 1960 the experiment was terminated, much to the relief of all concerned, who no doubt huff ed and puff ed, preened their plumage and got back to a normal existence. All this, however, does not alter the facts: the Clans steamed adequately, though perhaps somewhat reluctantly, their consumption of coal was far from excessive and they displayed no mechanical vices. A little tinkering with the valve events (á la D. W. Harvey) and ¼ ” off the blast pipe diameter I am sure

17 Martyn J. McGinty would have made them sparkle. Th ose considering, or perhaps even by now, starting a reincarnation, please take note. (I suppose a Caprotti Clan is out of the question?) OK, OK, I was only wondering – “and getting way off the point” I hear you cry – and I agree! Th e decision to use Reidinger’s gear in 1955 was probably swayed by the inconsistent results of Midland C.M.E. Ivatt’s experiment with Caprotti gear and Black 5s (44738-54). Although they performed reasonably in the right hands, they were not all that was hoped for. (It is food for thought, however, that 44755/6/7 at Holbeck and 44686/7 at Longsight, with double chimneys, were reckoned to be signifi cantly better.) In the fi nal analysis it was only a question of the degree of engineering elegance, argued over tea and biscuits, that perpetuated the names of Caprotti and Tom Daniels and consigned Reidinger’s name to a backwater of engineering history. Such are the vagaries of the lottery of life. We must now consider the other signifi cant contribution to the Duke’s potential – the Kylchap exhaust. Chapelon, together with the Finnish engineer Kylälä, shared the credit for this transcendent development – hence the name. Its two major benefi ts were (a) the eff ective combination of exhaust gases from the tubes and fl ues with the exhaust steam from the cylinders; and (b) a reduction in back pressure on the pistons. Th is latter is especially important when using poppet valve gear with its rapid release of used steam, which is why, of course, the Swindon type double chimney and associated components were worse than useless, actually having an adverse eff ect. Th e evidence was there (persistent intervention by the cylinder release valves set at 265 lb/sq.in.) but there are “none so blind as those who will not see” . When Riddles specifi ed Caprotti valve gear, he was probably mindful of Ivatt’s experiments with 19 of the Black 5s and A.L.E.’s continuing good work and would certainly have had fruitful discussions with E. S. Cox. Riddles would have realised that A.L.E. would know more about its use and application than any other body: hence the instruction to Derby. (L. T. Daniels, A.L.E.’s chief designer, was greatly disappointed to learn later that Derby had fi elded the exhaust design to Swindon, knowing what the result would be, but, as a true professional, probably felt loath to interfere.) It would appear that Derby wanted to assert its authority: their original proposal included, among other things, a set of ‘conventional’ valve gear for the middle cylinder and some doubtful details of external appearance, all of which rubbed Riddles up the wrong way. Of course, head offi ce had the whip hand, and full Caprotti gear and better aesthetics won the day.

18 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

I suspect that this produced a fi t of pique as a response from Derby, who probably adopted the attitude that “Swindon has been allocated the front end work for the Standards and what they don’t know about blast-pipes isn’t worth knowing – let them sort it out” - this would, of course, be consistent with Harrison’s anti-Kylchap stance, as previously noted. It would seem that Derby put thorns in the sides of a number of people. Th e late Kenneth Leech, in conversation with Riddles, once remarked that whenever the 3P 4-4-2 tanks came back from overhaul at Derby, the valve gear was promptly reset from the Derby standard to something more acceptable. Riddles replied that there were “an awful lot of silly people at Derby” and he was greatly relieved to be sent back to Crewe in 1931. Having mentioned the name of a most unusual and accomplished man, it would be improper not to do his memory justice with some appreciation of his life and activities. Kenneth Leech, B.Sc., C. Eng., F.I.C.E., F.I.Mech. E.: born in 1892, he spent his formative years with his parents in New Barnet. His father, an accountant, was determined that his son should have the career in engineering that he had been denied and, in 1910, Kenneth started an apprenticeship with the London, Tilbury and Southend Railway under Whitelegg in Plaistow works. At about this time he had started taking a keen interest in railway photography When the Midland Railway took over in 1912 he went to the running shed as a fi tter. He transferred to the footplate and progressed to the inspectorate. Hardly had he settled under the new regime when W.W.1 began and he was sent to France with the Royal Operating Division. At the cessation of hostilities, he got a job with Th e Westinghouse Brake and Signal Company (W.B.S.): by 1921 he was Chief Draughtsman! Th e next major event was the 1926 General Strike when he volunteered his experience and was made a temporary driver at Hatfi eld. Here he encountered Mr Gresley, no less, who advised caution and was somewhat taken aback to discover that he was talking to the chief draughtsman from W.B.S., an ex-Whitelegg man, to boot! After the strike, he returned to W.B.S. and was transferred to their Chippenham factory with the onset of W.W.2 where he suff ered great humiliation and abuse at the hands of a particularly unpleasant “superior”. In order to maintain his health and self-respect he took up mountaineering and rock-climbing, despite being nearly fi fty years old. In 1948, he looked out of his offi ce window and realised that changes were taking place on the railway and this reawakened his dormant interest in photography that had been subsumed as much by his keen study of

19 Martyn J. McGinty music as anything else. He acquired a good camera with a rapid shutter and in the following seventeen years amassed nearly twenty thousand high quality exposures over the length and breadth of the country. Th is led to his increasing familiarity with footplate men and nearly twenty years of indulging his favourite pastime of fi ring locomotives - not just the odd shovelful under the fl ap but whole trips to London sometimes under pressure to regain lost time even at the age of sixty-eight! Th e crews loved and admired him: he was often off ered ‘the corner’ but he preferred the shovel as it was less mentally demanding. He eased off a bit after straining his heart keeping up with a younger climber but returned to the footplate for his hundredth birthday when he was invited to Didcot for a spell on the footplate driving and fi ring 5029 Nunney Castle. He then led a fairly quiet existence and eventually settled in sheltered accomodation. He achieved the remarkable age of one hundred and twelve and, one morning, got up to go for his customary stroll. He said to his carer, “Do you know, I feel rather tired: I think I’ll have a lie-down”. He did and passed peacefully away.

To recapitulate on Derby, a regrettable piece of arrogance was the substitution of the BR reversing gear for A.L.E.’s excellent arrangement which used one turn of the wheel from full fore-gear to full reverse. BR’s version used 30 turns (yes!) and incorporated a locking mechanism of crude design which made the whole operation stiff and cumbersome. What with that, the positioning of the pep-pipe and coal-spray valves in front of the fi reman’s seat, and the coal-pusher cum fi nger-crusher lever on the tender, Derby has much to answer for. Eventually an ‘approved’ set of drawings was despatched and this potentially wonderful locomotive emerged, though not strictly ‘per drawing’ as we shall see. After the valve gear comes the means of converting the power into movement. It is an aspect of locomotive design that tends to be taken for granted, and yet,conversely, has been the subject of much controversy - viz. the crosshead/slide bar assembly. I remember visiting the Severn Valley Railway at Bridgnorth and hearing an obviously intelligent (and consequently inquisitive) young man of some 9 or 10 years asking his father about this particular aspect of the locomotive: “What’s this bit for?” His father explained that it was to convert the linear action of the piston into rotary motion to drive the wheels.

20 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

“Yes, I know,” replied the boy, perhaps wiser than one might have suspected, “but it’s diff erent from a car engine - is that because it’s old- fashioned?” “Not really, it’s because it’s so much more powerful” replied his father. True, but not really relevant; I considered off ering an explanation, but the timing was off and by then the conversation had taken another turn. A pity really: his dad missed an opportunity – but there you go. Th e real reason of course is because the steam engine is double acting. Th is means that there has to be a piston rod between the piston and the ‘little end’ of the connecting rod to allow for the travel of the piston away from the rear cylinder cover. With the single-acting internal combustion engine, however, the connecting rod is joined directly to the centre of the piston by the gudgeon pin, and the cylinder walls give the guiding action performed by the slide bars in the steam engine. (For a while ‘tail-rods’ were in vogue in steam practice, which were extra supports for the pistons and were accommodated in guide tubes extending from the fronts of the cylinders. After a lengthy period of trial and examination these were found to be largely unnecessary and their use was discontinued.) To return to the crosshead and the associated components, their history and development were fairly continuous (up until about 1935 when best practice was established) and may be summarised broadly as follows. Th e very early engines used a single enclosed bar guide soon superseded by two bars, one above and one below the piston rod. Power and speed soon required the use of stronger, more durable and better lubricated solutions, and in this country the three main types may still be observed in preservation, viz. the Gresley 3 bar, Bulleid’s modifi ed Laird 2 bar and the type favoured by the G.W.R. and Midland having two widely spaced bars and a symmetrical crosshead with two replaceable top and bottom slippers. It is interesting to note that in the Western Region 1500 class heavy shunters Hawksworth returned to the enclosed single slide bar type (though much improved and strengthened) presumably on the grounds of ruggedness and simplicity, speed obviously not being a consideration. In America where, by 1935, and as a result of the generous loading gauge, locomotives were operating with enormous power ratings and the consequently huge thrust loadings, a specially designed multi-bearing crosshead became commonplace. Although ostensibly a single bar type, the crosshead in cross-section resembles a capital T with two cross bars.

21 Martyn J. McGinty

Th ough requiring much attention to detail in mating to the guide and special lubrication provision, its advantages of lightness and high bearing area guaranteed a virtual monopoly on large engines until the end of steam design work in the U.S.A. Be that as it may, it is the Gresley 3 bar design that concerns us, since that was the choice for the Duke. In view of its history it is hardly surprising that the design of this and the rest of the motion was allocated to Doncaster, being applied across the whole range of the standard classes. From the cross heads via the connecting rods to the wheels, which should be regarded, as in motor vehicles, as part of the chassis. In early times the situation was very diff erent and it is easy to see how a simplistic view of wheels came into being. Locomotives were extremely crude, notwithstanding the old adage about Stephenson’s ‘Rocket’ and how nothing much since has changed. Wheels were seen primarily as providing a low friction means of conveying a load from A – B. Driving wheels were large in order to provide some sort of sensible aspect ratio in the conversion of power to movement. Th e carrying wheels, when present, were smaller (since it would be a waste of materials to make them big) and the mainframes extended from the back to the front. Flexibility was achieved by expediency, a bit of play in the axle boxes, fl angeless driving wheels, acceptance of a degree of bending in the frames themselves, und so weiter. Now this is all very well when rolling-stock is light and train speeds are relatively low. Once the running of a railway starts to get ambitious, plainly these methods just won’t do, and that is when designers have to start producing a viable chassis for the locomotive, particularly when it is expected to do express passenger work. By the way, it occurred to me recently that Belgium has produced some fi ne engineers as well as the beer and chocolates that many of us have enjoyed at some point. Notably Walschaerts (valve gear), Giff ard (the steam injector), de Glehn (general steam development) and Belpaire (signifi cant fi rebox development), so there have been enormous strides made since Rocket’s inception in 1827, as one might expect. One of the fi rst priorities in a long list of improvements was to provide some sort of guiding principle in the design. Th ough this can be achieved, to some extent, by canted rail, superelevation of the track on curves and by carefully designed tyre profi les, the most positive result is achieved by the use of a ‘bogie’ (4 wheels) or at the very least a ‘ponytruck’ (2 wheels).

22 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

Probably from the French ‘bouger’, to move (giving us the English ‘budge’) the etymology is not completely certain, but the bogie’s development has been the subject of much experimentation and, indeed, fortuitous discovery. For example it took about 15 years to arrive at the conclusion that if the wheelbase of the bogie did not considerably exceed the width of the track, then it would off er no guiding infl uence to speak of, and would give rise to dangerous oscillations. Adams made a signifi cant contribution in 1864 with lateral pivot play controlled by check springs (and later with a radial axle trailing truck). What may be seen as the fi nal leap forward came in 1908 with the Swindon development of the de Glehn bogie. As is well known, Churchward had imported three of de Glehn’s 4-4-2 compounds from the French ‘Northern Railway’ over the period from 1903 – 1905 for evaluation against his 2 cylinder 4-6-0s. Th e outcome was Churchward’s 4 cylinder ‘Star’ but most relevant to our subject was the bogie. Hitherto, the practice had been to connect the bogie to the locomotive via swing links which were high on maintenance and, in any case, not very effi cient at guiding the locomotive into curves, resulting in advanced fl ange wear on the leading driving wheels. Churchward was quick to appreciate the advantages of the French bogie, and equally quick to see where he might make improvements. His choice and methods were vindicated by the adoption of the fi nal design by Stanier for his pacifi cs, Th omson for his B1s and Riddles for his pacifi cs and 4-6-0s. Th ere is one minor diff erence in that Riddles specifi ed roller bearings and these are to be found on the trailing truck of the Duke as well – which closely follows Bulleid’s design for his pacifi cs. Again, there is a diff erence in that laminated springs were substituted for Bulleid’s coils in view of the high failure rate of the latter. Evidence for the eff ectiveness of the front bogie design was made readily apparent on June 29th 1939 when, towards the end of a press run from Euston, 6220 ‘Coronation’, having attempted to beat the L.N.E.R.’s 113 m.p.h. speed record, approached Crewe in expectation of the usual straight run in. Unhappily the powers that be had elected to put the train into platform 3, necessitating the negotiation of a whole series of reverse curves and point-work. Th at the locomotive was able (just!) to perform these gymnastics at 50 m.p.h. is little short of a miracle. Riddles, also, as Stanier’s personal assistant, was on the footplate at the time and was suitably impressed!

23 Martyn J. McGinty

Th e importance of viewing locomotives as vehicles in their own right, rather than just as mobile power plants, was brought into prominence in the September of that year about 40 km west of Patna, Bihar state. In the small hours of July 17th, the 60 m.p.h. derailment of the Punjab – Calcutta night express cost the lives of over 100 people. To the credit of the Indian government, considering the unfortunate anti-British feelings that were the main fodder for the agitatory press of the day, a thorough and far- reaching investigation was put in hand. Highly qualifi ed engineers were invited from Britain (including W. A. Stanier) as well as from France and the Indian railway hierarchy. Th e committee so formed eventually concluded, inter alia, that the loading of the front bogie side-control springs was insuffi cient. Th is was unfortunate, as the mechanical principles involved were well understood but, in the Indian Railway system of the time the application of these principles and the necessary qualifying procedures were regarded more in the breach than the observation. It should be noted, in the pursuit of even-handedness, that the XA, XB and XC class pacifi cs (one of which, an XB, being the principal subject of the enquiry) were relatively new and one might understand, to a degree, the optimism which might have accompanied their arrival, especially as they were built to the recently agreed Indian Railway standard design. Th e problem was, basically, insuffi cient time and equipment allowed for testing and acceptability and a widespread indiff erence to many reports of instability at speed. Th is led to locomotives with uncertain characteristics being rostered for duties to which they were unsuited, particularly in view of the poor state of the track, especially when weakened by the extreme weather conditions of the monsoon. It is obvious with hindsight that operating staff allowed their faith in the decisions of their superiors to blinker them against the evidence of their own senses – but to a degree this is human nature: it’s a poor family that can’t trust its senior members. It might be said that the North British Locomotive Company, as designers and constructors of long experience, ought to bear some of the blame as suppliers, but in my view that would be wholly unreasonable. When the facts above are taken into account, together with the duty of care one may reasonably apply to the users of the locomotives, then the onus of responsibility rests squarely on the operating department. Th e fi ndings of the committee on the Bihar disaster showed that excess speed and inferior track condition were largely to blame.

24 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

Taking a more general view, it seems that the subject is one where the more that is learned, the more one discovers to be learned. Th e more sophisticated a system becomes, the tighter the controls have to be in order to maintain an ‘acceptable’ level of effi ciency. Th is is where the shrewd designer steps in who can weed out the unnecessary facets of a fussy design and come up with a robust and elegant solution. Modern vehicle suspension/steering assemblies employ a wealth of refi nements with many dimensions and tolerances: camber and castor angles, toe-in dimensions, Akermann’s principle to equalise tyre wear when cornering, optimum tyre profi les and pressures and so forth. Little of this applies to a railway locomotive, since fi rstly it does not have to be steered by the driver. Th e track itself becomes a carefully engineered accompaniment to the performance of the elegantly designed vehicles which use it. Despite much having been learned and workable solutions having been implemented, there were still one or two classes of locomotives which retained a name for lively riding, the Royal Scots and A1s to name but two. Rather in the way that ‘wheel-wobble’ on a road vehicle can have as many as ninety or so diff erent causes, the reasons for nosing and yawing in railway engines could sometimes be equally obscure, some types being more sensitive than others. In the Royal Scots, wear in the rear driving axle-boxes was an irritant and on the A1s the right combination of side control spring loading on the front bogie and Cartazzi slide angle on the trailing truck proved diffi cult to establish and optimise. Th e choice of draw-bar type between engine and tender gave some designers headaches too, not least when an unsuitable design transmitted unwelcome vibrations to the train behind to the discomfort of the passengers. It was found advisable during the design of some of the BR standard types, viz the 2-6-2 tank types, to use diff erent methods of damping on the front and rear trucks. Accordingly, side control springs were used at the front and swing links at the rear, with a view to damping out harmonic vibrations. It is worthwhile considering an incident witnessed by a friend of mine, Jimmy Croft, sadly no longer with us. He was on Doncaster station when A1 60135 Madge Wildfi re came through at some speed with a great deal of commotion evident at the front end: dust and sparks fl ew in all directions until a set of points was reached, when the partially derailed front bogie righted itself (for a miracle!) and all was well. Apparently the looks on

25 Martyn J. McGinty the faces of a couple of the station staff were, to say the least, memorable! Th e conclusion to be drawn here is, I think, that without the benefi ts of a modern well-designed bogie with fairly forgiving characteristics, the result might well have been extremely damaging, if not catastrophic. And so from the locomotive to the tender: this started life as a BR1D type as coupled to Class 7 Nos. 70044-54 but with space for an extra ton of coal. Th is was designated BR1E and numbered 1271 of Lot 234. On taking up regular duties it was realised that this tender was not entirely suited to the engine, and between August and November 1957, at the fi rst and only heavy general overhaul, a BR1C type intended for 92150 was taken and modifi ed but lacked a coal pusher. (92150 received the BR1C intended for 92162, which in turn got the BR1E.) Th e changes were a decrease in water capacity from 4725-4325 gallons allowing for the fi tting of a coal pusher whilst retaining the capacity for 10 tons of coal. Th is was designated type BR1J (No. 1528 under Lot No. 246). Th e various alterations thus eff ected were no doubt an attempt to pacify the men of Crewe (who reckoned the Duke’s appetite was such as to justify a fi reman for each cylinder) and retain its availability for workings to Perth – however, this was not to be. Th e boiler was offi cially known as a BR Type 13. In general terms this is a modifi ed Britannia boiler, the grate having been lengthened slightly into a combustion chamber at some minimal expense of the tube lengths and extended in the opposite direction for 1 ft: this can be discerned in the general arrangement drawings for the two classes. Th e distance between the third driving axle and the trailing truck centre is greater by 12 inches in the 8P. Th is boiler was a resounding success from day one, despite its rather ominous offi cial designation. Th e design work was carried out at Derby, nominally under T. F. Coleman who, because of his impending retirement in July 1949, was keen to encourage his Chief Locomotive Draughtsman, J. W. Caldwell. He may therefore be considered in practical terms to be the originator of the Class 6/7/8/9 boilers, though Coleman’s infl uence is there for all to see. Th e other standard classes used minor variations on existing Midland and Great Western types but there were no other boilers in use which could be adapted without major alteration for the larger types so it was “back to the drawing board.” An area which presented a dilemma was the choice of material for the fi rebox. Of the two viable options, steel appeared to be a good choice: there would be no worries about diff erent coeffi cients of expansion as with

26 Th e Life and Times of a Duke a copper fi rebox and steel tubes, provoking leakage. Again, with steel, an all-welded assembly could be employed, avoiding riveted lap joints and other improvements, such as thermic siphons and combustion chambers, were a much simpler and more reliable proposition. Th e problems inherent in a copper fi rebox/riveted boiler assembly are a constant headache for the preservation movement. Th e 71000 Trust has experienced such diffi culties occasionally, as in the renewal of the front tube plate during the initial restoration process and later in 2007, when a major copper-welded repair had to be made to the fi rebox back plate. Just to recap on combustion chambers, it seems that there has been comparatively little enthusiasm for them in Britain compared with, say, America, where their use became standard practice after 1922. Joseph Beattie appreciated the point as early as 1855 in his 2-2-2 ‘Canute’ class, and J. E. McConnell’s ‘boiler’ of 1852 used the principle although his appreciation of proportions was imperfect. Following this a period of experimentation took place with some, quite frankly, barmy ideas, including fi re-tile heat accumulators, double grates (one for coal, one for coke), water bottomed fi reboxes with a ‘mid- feather,’ hollow stay bolts, hollow brick arches and so on and so on. Finally Matthew Kirtley rationalised the whole business with a careful succession of experiments and the fi nal answer for a coal burning fi rebox was achieved simply using the arch and defl ector plate we see today. As a result, life for the locomotive industry went back to normal for a while, which is all very well if there is an ample supply of high quality steam coal (when there isn’t, the wide fi rebox with a combustion chamber shows its superiority: Riddles’ WD 2-10-0 was an excellent example and would steam on stuff that would stop a ‘Castle’ in its tracks). So, along with the brick (or concrete) arch, the combustion chamber is one of two eff ective ways to increase combustion effi ciency and is especially valuable to a designer constrained by the possibility of poor coal and a tight loading gauge, since it very eff ectively increases the volume of the fi rebox by extending the only dimension left without adversely aff ecting the grate area/fi rebox volume ratio. (In America in later years the alternative practice of walling off part of the grate with fi rebrick was tried. Maintenance costs were high and thoughts then turned to replacing this with a water leg tube when welding processes reached an acceptable stage of sophistication and reliability but these considerations applied to larger heavier locomotives than were possible in Great Britain anyway.)

27 Martyn J. McGinty

It would seem then that an all steel, wide fi rebox with a combustion chamber would be a good choice for the Duke, but standard locomotives were intended to be ‘go anywhere’ machines and this highlighted the problem of variable water quality, an agent provocateur in cases of corrosion and cracking. (Only the Southern Region took water treatment anything like seriously.) So with the balancing consideration of a higher scrap value when the fi rebox became life-expired, copper was the fi nal choice, despite the higher initial cost. With a view to ease of maintenance, the number and accessibility of washout plugs and mud-hole doors is generous and blow down valves are provided for the diffi cult areas at the bottoms of the fi rebox water legs. Many drivers have been asked the same question, probably since the advent of steam propulsion, viz. “what is your favourite type of locomotive?” Th e answer is invariably the same, “One that makes a lot of steam easily.” Any driver worth his salt can cater for the other problems that come his way, such as adverse weather, minor delays, run down condition and so on, as long as he has plenty of steam to draw on to balance the books. Th e Britannia boiler was no ‘slouch’ in this respect, and with the predictable exception of the Western Region, the class 7s were welcomed with open arms, especially on the Great Eastern section where, after a little attention by D. W. Harvey, they positively fl ew. Naturally, the crews loved them and the results out on the line were commendable. As the boiler and fi rebox assembly of the Duke was simply a minor development of that of the Class 7, it too was a potential winner and in static tests at Swindon proved to be a quite remarkable producer of steam. Th e basic diff erences are increases in grate area and length of combustion chamber. Th e latter was enforced by the former and resulted in a slightly adverse alteration in the ratio between the free area through the tubes and the grate area, but the resulting fi gure was still better than that for a conventional 9F which steams perfectly well anyway. Despite being such a prodigious producer of steam it was apparent that the Duke was hobbled and was prevented from developing its potential. Th is was due to other unsuspected causes which were only to be resolved by a gifted and imaginative group of people in the, then, distant future, long after its owners had lost interest. Th e fi rebox is an area of locomotive design that has been the subject of much conjecture and experimentation even in the comparatively modern history of steam. Apart from the two most obvious real improvements (the use of a wide grate over the trailing truck and the extension, on larger

28 Th e Life and Times of a Duke locomotives, of the fi rebox into a combustion chamber for more effi cient consumption of fuel) a surprising number of attempts were made at less probable improvements. Th ey were, pretty much without exception, eff orts to manage without stays using water tubes, headers and drums of varying pressures and without exception, all fell by the wayside – even Mr Gresley’s ‘Hush-Hush’ 10000 which fi nished its days as W1 4-6-2-2 60700 with a conventional boiler and fi rebox. Th e simple fact is that locomotive boiler/fi rebox combinations have certain inherent facets of their character which have to be addressed. Th ese are ‘beam-strength’ (remember the whole assembly is only supported at each end) insulation, expansion and contraction stresses and the need for access to carry out inspection, maintenance and repairs. Overall the accommodation of these factors is by far best achieved with the typical stay-bolted assembly. One other major advance in construction was introduced in America in 1933 and continuously tested between 1934 and 1935. Th is was the all-welded assembly which was, somewhat surprisingly, only embraced wholeheartedly in this country by O. V. V. Bulleid. Th e only possible objection to such construction is the preference for a suffi ciently large annealing furnace so that the whole assembly may be treated in one operation. During the development of the modern boiler/fi rebox certain constants have been defi ned. Firstly the ratio of 12lb or 150 cu ft of air per lb of bituminous coal burnt – naturally this varies with the quality of the coal but was the proportion aimed at when designing a fi rebox and equates to about 6 cu ft per sq ft of grate area. Naturally the admission of primary air through the ash-pan and grate is of vital importance and should be not less than 16% of the grate area. (Just how important this is became apparent when the inherent problems with 71000 were fi nally analysed and corrected.) Next, the ratio of water space to that available for the generation of steam: insuffi ciency of the latter leads to priming (or carry-over of water into the steam circuit); too much lowers the effi ciency. Commonly 70% water and 30% steam has been demonstrated to be an acceptable balance, though it will be appreciated, after a few seconds thought, that this cannot be fi xed. It is a working mean about which there is some variation as the water level rises and falls in the boiler according to gradient or demand – which on occasion may be severe. Some drivers became adept at ‘mortgaging’ the boiler, i.e. using steam at a faster rate than it was being

29 Martyn J. McGinty generated in order to gain a temporary advantage. Th e kind of problems that could give rise to this situation were fairly common when steam locomotives were an everyday source of power. Principally, poor coal, faulty injectors or, less commonly, poor design could make for ‘unhappy bunnies’ on the footplate. Now this pretty trick is all very well as long as a couple of things are borne in mind. Firstly, the time when it becomes tempting to perform this juggling is when you’re up against it: going uphill in Woodhead tunnel perhaps, and losing time. Th is is when the water gauges tend to show a higher level than the truth. Th e injectors are not being used as they themselves use steam and the driver wants every ounce of the stuff . Th e fi re’s in a rotten state and there’s no chance of getting the dart out in the confi nes of the tunnel, so a stir-up is out of the question. So there you are, thrashing away with the water bobbing about just above the bottom nut on the tube when the engine reaches the top of the hill and starts the descent on the far side. Th e water disappears from the gauges and terror strikes the faint-hearted fi reman who fears the fi rebox crown-sheet may be uncovered and, at the very least, the fusible plug(s) may melt. Th is is avoided only by the skill and fi ne judgement of years of service on the part of the driver. Th at is why drivers originally were forced, by the promotion system, to accumulate years of experience, so that the abilities necessary in circumstances like that would be forthcoming and a rough trip would be just hard work rather than a disaster. However, it’s not over yet for the fi reman who now is faced with getting back what was mortgaged. Th e pressure gauge has been falling like a barometer in the hurricane season, the brakes are beginning to leak on and there’s no fi erce draught to pull the fi re round now because the regulator is closed to let the boiler recover. On with the blower, out with the dart, stir up the fi re, set the injectors and pray they will both keep singing for you. Up on the tender and try and fi nd some coal to pull forward – most of what’s there isn’t worth the name. (And it’s probably dark and wet and damned cold into the bargain.) After what seems like an age the water shows in the gauges again, the injectors are singing merrily and the boiler’s recovering nicely – there was even some decent coal buried at the back – Hallelujah!! Th at’s the kind of stress we’d all rather be without and is reminiscent of a tale from World War II. A heavily laden Lancaster was setting off on a bombing raid one hot summer’s night. Th e air was consequently thin and one engine was a little below par. It seemed as if the aircraft would never

30 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

‘come unstuck’ and the tension was palpable. Th e voice of the tail gunner broke the sweaty silence: “If we’re going by road Skipper, don’t you think we ought to slow down?” Th e pilot’s reply is unrecorded. I suppose in view of the history of boiler development one could say that so much was known by 1954 that it could not fail to be successful. After all, enormous progress had been made from the fi rst ‘kettle on wheels’ attempts (one has to start somewhere) through ‘Rocket’ and various successive developments which gradually saw the boiler and fi rebox become inseparable entities of ever increasing sophistication. It was slowly appreciated that if a locomotive boiler and fi rebox were to be effi cient then there were certain formulae that were fundamental to the dimensions. By the 1930s it was generally accepted that a tapered boiler was desirable because the amount of heat available to generate steam tapered off the further one got from the fi re. Furthermore, it became obvious that there was a tight mathematical relationship between various dimensions such as free area through fi re tubes/grate area. (Th ere are variables but a good fi gure is about 15%.) Another important consideration is the free area/ heating surface of the fi re tubes. (Th is is complicated by superheating and more so by re-superheating in the case of some of Chapelon’s compounds, but by and large a ratio of 1:400 is a fair working norm.) Th e choice of firebox shape was determined by two main factors: a. ease of construction and expense were not critical (as they might have been in times of austerity); b. ample room for the disengagement of steam in the area of greatest evaporation was considered to be a priority.

Th erefore the Belpaire/trapezoidal type was the automatic choice for this large 4-6-2 or Pacifi c locomotive (as opposed to the round top type favoured by Gresley and his successors. Riddles had used this design for his W.D. (War Dept.) engines, simply because austerity was the watchword – there was a war on.) Th e two safety valves are, naturally, of the Ross ‘pop’ type. Th is is a development of one originally patented in 1873 by T. Adams and, after improvement, was itself patented by R. L. Ross in 1902. It took some while (naturally!) to catch on in Britain, having been widely used in America for decades. Th e main advantage of the design is that it avoids the increased pressure on a simple spring loaded valve as it releases.

31 Martyn J. McGinty

Th ere are always those who will resist change, and of course the G.W.R. persisted with the Ramsbottom type to the bitter end. Even Prof. Tuplin was convinced that the Ross type was a great waster of steam: quite how he arrived at that conclusion is a mystery. A safety valve can only waste steam if it ‘blows off light’, i.e. it is incorrectly adjusted. It is in any case one of the duties of the fi reman to ensure that the production of excess steam is avoided, thereby conserving fuel and water. Th e controls, as with all the standard types, were arranged for left hand drive with, as far as was practical, the comfort of the crew in mind. Left hand drive was chosen because by far the majority of British locos were so designed and the ‘standards’ were intended for general use. Th is went against the grain with the Western Region (surprise, surprise) because their locomotives were arranged for right hand drive. (Th ere was room for legitimate complaint here because the signals on the Western Region were sighted wherever possible so as to be more easily seen from the driver’s side, but then, it’s not a perfect world.) Unfortunately the whistle, along with so many other components, had disappeared during the locomotive’s stay at Barry. Fortunately, a suitable replacement was located in South Africa. It is odd but perhaps a quality of human nature: the sound and smell of a locomotive are the most important facets of the character of the creature. It is probably all to do with how we learn to recognise and remember the diff erences between safety/comfort and danger/fear: when we see something we take pleasure in and admire the smell and sound acquire an importance in our memory out of all proportion to time, expense, weight, power and so on. So if we’re going to have a whistle it has got to be ‘the right one’! It was of the melodious kind often referred to as a ‘chime’ whistle. Th ese were fi tted – to my personal delight – to classes 5,6,7 & 8 of the ‘standards’, but once again some W.R. feathers were ruffl ed. Despite the fact that, during the design and building stages, Swindon had been responsible for steam fi ttings (presumably including whistles among other things) someone, somewhere, saw to it that the chime whistles were removed from the standard locos that were allocated to the W.R. I expect it was the same silly man who, when general manager, would not permit standard locomotives to be rostered for any train on which he proposed to travel – bumptious ass. (My insistence on locomotives with normal euphony?) Th e braking equipment was steam operated for the locomotive and tender, with the customary additional manual brake for the tender,

32 Th e Life and Times of a Duke though, as with the class 7s, the steam cylinder on the tender was sluggish as a result of condensation. (My good friend D. Broughton tells me this was a problem later with the 9Fs which have two brake cylinders, the forward one being particularly susceptible to this problem.) Th e usual large and small ejectors were fi tted for the operation of the train brake. Once again, the W.R. had to be diff erent. Th eir vacuum brake system worked at a greater intensity than everybody else’s: not much, but enough to cause a problem if a W.R. loco came off the train and was replaced by one of another region or by a ‘standard’. As the maximum vacuum attainable by other locomotives was insuffi cient to overcome that left in the system, all the train brakes would have to be released by hand before it would move. And so, W.R. quibbles aside, here we had (at least in theory) a locomotive combining all that was best in steam engineering practice. Yet, despite all the lessons learned, basic mistakes were made, as indeed they were from time to time with other locomotives, and the causes were often the draughting arrangements. Consider the original Jubilees of Stanier, Ivatt’s 4MTs, the Manors and the reluctance of Swindon in the matters of superheaters and double chimneys. I am sure a lot of the problems with free-steaming were caused, in general terms, by the insularity which seems to be a part of that elusive quality, the British temperament. (One of the big mysteries to me is how the lessons learned and published by D. K. Clark 1850 (Railway Machinery) were so easily forgotten until rediscovered by Churchward elsewhere.) True, Gresley and certainly Riddles, were prepared to adopt certain of Chapelon’s recommendations, but others perhaps less so. Th is was a shame - Chapelon never changed anything without showing a dramatic improvement. His attitude seemed to be permanently optimistic: if there was a poorly performing locomotive, he could reform it. If there was a disaster on wheels, so much the better: there would be so much more scope for enhancement, and to my knowledge, he never failed. It may be said that I have over-simplifi ed a complex subject, but in my defence I would argue that all I am trying to demonstrate is that the fi rebox/boiler/steamchest/ smokebox progression must be designed as a harmonious whole which is greater than the sum of its parts. Unhappily this is a rule that has sometimes been regarded more in the breach than the observance – as in the case of 71000. (Readers who feel a need for a

33 Martyn J. McGinty more thorough understanding of this fascinating subject would do well to refer to the bibliography and ultimately Chapelon’s wonderful work on the subject ‘la Locomotif à vapeur (1938).) By the bye, it is intriguing to observe how complicated devices often achieve a form which tends to convey something of the function. Standing back from a large modern Pacifi c’s boiler and allowing one’s eye to travel from the trapezoidal Belpaire (or Wootten) fi rebox forward along the gracefully tapering boiler and ending up at the (probably) double chimney, the impression of purposeful continuity in one direction can hardly be missed. I’m afraid the same aesthetics cannot be observed in diesel or electric locomotives, so let us return to our subject. On completion, the ensemble was towed dead to Willesden motive power depot to represent BR at the 16th International Railway Congress (I.R.C) in May 1954. It was exhibited, standing to the right of 9F number 92014 and was offi cially named after himself by the Duke of Gloucester, the honorary president of the I.R.C. Incidentally, there were other ‘approved’ proposals for the name: (1) ‘Prince Charles’ (for which assent was not given) and (2) ‘Th e Duke of Edinburgh’ but the foregoing took precedence. Th e locomotive Naming Committee also considered ‘Sir Winston Churchill’ and even ‘Everest’. It is perhaps of some anecdotal value to recall that one of the visitors, albeit unoffi cially, was the legendary Bill Hoole. It seems that, as a result of his passionate and unfl agging interest in railway matters, he went to the exhibition on the fi rst day and arrived, in typical Hoole fashion (!) with time in hand. Being in uniform, he had no trouble in entering the premises and ‘sniffi ng out’ the star exhibit. His insatiable curiosity soon led him underneath the locomotive, where he quickly became absorbed in the delights of the scrupulously clean and unusually robust middle engine, roller bearing axle boxes and so forth. His reverie, however, was cut short by the voice of the Peterborough shed master who had arrived un-noticed and, it would seem, was there in charge of the locomotive, but whose reaction on seeing a shadowing fi gure creeping about beneath the object of his care was initially far from welcoming. When Bill was asked what he thought he was doing, he gave a reassuring explanation and was asked for a professional impression of the concealed workings. Th is apparently greatly pleased ‘the governor’ (whose interest in the unique locomotive was certainly equal to Bill’s) as it saved him the trouble of scrambling underneath himself in the little time available

34 Th e Life and Times of a Duke before Sir Brian Robertson arrived to declare the exhibition offi cially open. After all the ballyhoo of the Congress, 71000 underwent acceptance trials and a test programme based at Swindon. Regrettably, certain failings became apparent: in simple terms, an inability to produce suffi cient steam under duress and, at 80 m.p.h. plus, coal was going up the chimney as fast as a man could get it into the fi rebox. A lot of questions were asked and all the answers seemed to be the ones hoped for. A lot of details were examined and each, on its own, seemed to be satisfactory. (Although, considering that Swindon designed the exhaust and didn’t even know it was unsuitable, one is tempted to ask: “were they qualifi ed to test the locomotive anyway?) Some areas appeared to allow adverse criticism: a. the ratio of free area through the tubes/grate area is slightly inferior to that of a Britannia, yet superior to that of a 9F which, in any case, steams very well; b. Some criticism was levelled at the undamped coil springs on the trailer truck causing, allegedly, undue shaking of the fi rebed, but the same design on a Merchant Navy was not a problem.

According to Fred Rich, (C. Eng., M.I. Mech. E.) a Rugby Test Station technician with wide footplate experience, “Th e Duke was possibly the smoothest riding engine I have ever been on – almost like being afl oat” - so much for that idea then! (It is ironic to note that it was the failure of a Swindon alteration to the steam supply to the exhaust injector control valve that led to the Duke being failed at Rugby for repair, giving Fred an opportunity for a footplate ride to Camden, light engine! Apparently Swindon didn’t like the positioning of the supply pipe and altered it to a ‘T’ off the pipe that supplies steam to the lower ends of the valve spindles. Th is would have been fi ne but for two inhibitory factors: 1. Swindon were using fl ared copper pipe ends in their compression fi ttings. 2. Copper work-hardens very readily but anneals at about 400 degrees C. When encountering super-heated steam (at a considerably higher temperature) it would soften, easing the tension generated by the fi tting procedure, loosening the joint and failing to maintain the working pressure. Crewe fi tters, led by “Ben Wilson”, to the rescue with a Crewe designed replacement having brazed unions. Result: Crewe 1 - Swindon 0.)

35 Martyn J. McGinty

In conclusion, it has to be said that there is also some irony in all the work that was done to try and perfect the tender. Had a commensurate amount of eff ort been applied to understanding and curing the problems with the locomotive, then the economies eff ected would have rendered the work on the tender unnecessary.

36 Chapter 2 Use, abuse & disuse

It is this period in the life of ‘the Duke’ that I fi nd most disappointing. 71000 was released into general service and for about six years made life hard for many footplate staff – arduous and miserable to the extent that good fi remen would report sick rather than endure the vagaries of an engine that repaid hard work and diligence with a refusal to perform properly. Whenever there was time to be made up and the crew needed to ‘pull something out of the bag’ it just wasn’t there. (It is interesting to note at this point a remark from Fred Rich, who said that when fi rst used, Th e Duke went to Perth and back quite comfortably - with an inspector aboard - but in his absence the coal consumption became unreasonable! Fred was also informed by the man he pseudonymously referred to as “Ben Wilson” that, during 71k’s visit to Swindon, the valve gear was dismantled and reassembled incorrectly. One can’t help wondering at this distance in time if “Ben Wilson” was in fact Ken Williams, Crewe’s Caprotti expert - the names are curiously similar). Th at said it is, unfortunately, true to say that stabling the Duke among the ‘Duchesses’ at Crewe North (5A) was, to an extent, asking for trouble. Th e Crewe men knew and admired Mr. Stanier’s later 4-6-2s and, unless any newcomer was at least as good if not better, it was bound to get a hostile reception. Ask any ex 5A men how to treat them and they will tell you: “Open the tender doors with the coal pick and put the spillage in the ‘box’. Keep fi ring until there’s no more room and then go under the coaling stage again and top up the tender” – the fi reman sometimes even arranging the coal by hand with a wall of lumps to contain a heap in the middle up

37 Martyn J. McGinty to, or even above, the level of the cab roof. (Some fi remen even put some more big lumps on the footplate!) Th is would mean possibly twelve tons (despite the nominal ten tons capacity of the coal space) and with almost two tons in the fi rebox it can be seen that shortage of coal was not likely to be an issue. Th is practice was especially valuable when booked for a trip to Perth. Th e enormous fi re would be burning through nicely by the time Carnforth was in sight with the taxing work still to come. About eight or nine heavy fi rings after that and Perth wouldn’t be far away. Now this approach is only possible if you have a boiler and fi rebox that will respond to a degree of brutality and of course with a ‘Duchess’ that is the point: they thrive on it. (Th is is due largely to the genius of E. A. Langridge, Stanier’s boiler designer.) However, it should be noted that the design of this boiler (designated 1X) has its roots in that developed for the Turbomotive (6202). A ‘special,’ it had a 40 row superheater with trifurcated elements and a nickel steel barrel and wrapper plate in order to conserve weight, mild steel being retained in areas where diffi cult fl anging operations were necessary. Th ese were developments of the original design by J. Francis and were much infl uenced by D. W. Sandford (Deputy Chief Locomotive Draughtsman at Derby) and his superior who created another of those delightful coincidences where the name suits the result, H. Chambers – for it was he who suggested the use of a combustion chamber to further increase steam production. Th e fi nal development came in 1939 with the introduction of double blast-pipes and chimneys – the improvement was dramatic. With regard to fuel, there was a bonus too: when refuelling at Perth the kind of coal one could expect would be softer and smaller than the Welsh or the Yorkshire hards at Crewe. Coming south then, the poorer coal would have been burnt to reveal the remains of the good coal when it was most needed, with Beattock and Tebay looming. Such a technique was anathema to the Duke, which, needs to be fi red more like an A4: a thinner fi re (but not overly so, particularly under the arch) and more attention to detail but the fact remains that, when pushed hard there was no useful response. Th ese factors also meant that (initially) there was no chance of ‘going round again’ – full meant full and this combined with 71K’s appetite for coal under duress eventually led to a ban on trips to Perth, despite all the meddling with the various tenders that were tried.

38 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

Th ere was, it seems, only one man who was happy to take the Duke to Perth: his name was George ‘Bud’ Ollier. He had obviously found a technique applicable to the engine and would have encouraged his fi reman accordingly – one can only wonder what that technique might have been. Riddles himself might have known: he was enjoying a farewell footplate ride on the Duke, some time after his retirement from BR. At the invitation of the inspector present, Riddles ‘took the corner.’ Th ere is a tantalising account of this in Col. H. C. B. Rogers’ biography of Riddles describing how a six minute defi cit at Rugby was turned into a right time arrival at Crewe, but oh how much it doesn’t tell us! It would be fascinating to know how hard the fi reman had to work, for example, and to know just how diffi cult (or easy for that matter) it would have been to make up the time anyway – but we shall probably never know.) Another man who remembers early associations with 71000 is traction inspector/driver Bill Andrew, who enjoys maintaining his experience with steam locomotives. As a result he is regularly rostered for work with steam on the main line and is mightily and favourably impressed with the current abilities of the Duke. He is generous in his praise and gratitude for the work put in by all those concerned with the ‘Impossible Dream’ from the tenuous beginnings to the present day, and does not overlook the sterling work of the support team (to which your author might add “All Hail!” – it is often underrated by some of the railway periodicals and not a few enthusiasts. It is a stark fact that without that team, 71K wouldn’t function.) Bill Andrew fi rst encountered 71000 at Crewe in 1956 and soon discovered that she was no pushover. Constant attention to the fi rebox and the avoidance of fi ring against the injectors were mandatory as she was a bit of a ‘miner’s friend’ and thirsty with it. Consequently he is bowled over by the abilities of the Duke since the transformation and states that ‘14 on’ is child’s play irrespective of adverse conditions. Sadly, he also thinks that, within the contemporary limits imposed by the infrastructure, there are no opportunities to explore the absolute capabilities of this remarkable machine. What a wonderful compliment! While pondering the initial inadequacies of the Duke, I refl ected on a very telling observation in the excellent ‘B.R. Standard Steam Locomotives’ by E. S. Cox. It is so relevant I shall quote it verbatim:

39 Martyn J. McGinty

“Humble component though it may be, the ash-pan has proved the Achilles Heel of many designs in the past because its shape and cross- sectional areas were inadequate for full air fl ow.” What a pity that Cox didn’t heed his own words in relation to the problems with 71000 – but then hindsight is always ‘20-20’, an adage I’ve had thrown at my own head several times. Another golden rule is “Never assume – it makes an ASS of U + ME.” Th ese excellent morals have stood the test of centuries but regrettably there are occasions when it seems almost nothing can save you. I recall about 1985 when I was a commercial fi tter, being asked to assist the foreman with the replacement of a gearbox and clutch in a British Leyland truck. Our brief was simple: we had the afternoon of the Tuesday to prepare the truck and order parts, the Wednesday to fi t them and complete the full service. But above all, it was essential that this vehicle was up and running at fi rst light on Th ursday. Naturally we impressed upon our suppliers the urgency of “getting it right” and explained that failure would cost money – lots of it! Th e parts arrived and were examined. In due course we off ered up the gearbox and bell housing to the engine. Well, it sort of went in: the splines on the fi rst motion shaft evidently matched the clutch centre, but it wouldn’t “go home.” Heads were scratched, part numbers checked and out came the box again. Was it the right pilot hearing in the fl y wheel? Yes. Did the seating on the shaft match it? Yes. Just to be sure, check the length of and number of splines on the shaft and in the clutch centre – A.O.K. Back went the box – same again! A lorry’s gearbox is heavy and by now the foreman was getting very short of patience, but not so short that he would listen to me: “Wind the thing in with the bell-housing bolts Danny – I expect it’s tight on the dowels.” He frowned and shook his head – and just as well. We pulled the box out yet again and he measured the overall length of the protruding section of shaft: 3/8” too long, just enough to ‘bottom out’ behind the pilot bearing. Somebody had blundered – against all the odds - right box, wrong shaft!! A hasty ’phone call and an extra early start on Th ursday sorted it all out. Th at was when I learned once and for all the value of this golden rule: “Question everything and prove your conclusions: whatever you have left, no matter how improbable, is the answer. It’s such a shame that everybody involved in trying to sort out the problems with the locomotive assumed that, if the drawings were right,

40 Th e Life and Times of a Duke then the result must be right. Th is attitude led to the pointless disposal in 1963 of a potentially fi ne locomotive. One man out of all the people involved with the locomotive during its working life under BR ownership, deserves some credit: the Shed Master at Crewe North (5A) who in 1961 stuck his neck out and authorised the cutting of slots in the sides of the ash-pan to try and alleviate the problem, the partial answer to which he had deduced by the kind of instinct that is born of a lifetime’s work with steam locomotives at the grubby end. It’s all very well to look at various components and test data and say “Yes, satisfactory” but there are more subtle interpretations to be made. For example, a smoke box test reading showing 8” on a vacuum water gauge may be within the desired parameters, but there are diff erent ways of achieving and sustaining a partial vacuum: a rapid fl ow through a small orifi ce or a gentler fl ow through a larger one. So although the Swindon type of blast pipe and chimney may have given the correct manometer reading, they had a detrimental eff ect on the fi re, perhaps aggravated by a defective ash-pan and, as we shall see, a fi rebox arch that was too low. It is important however to note that, now the draughting has been corrected with the Kylchap exhaust, the Duke will steam perfectly well with the front damper half closed. It may be relevant to consider the other recipients of Caprotti valve gear (the Midland and Standard Class 5’s) and note that they did not use a Kylchap exhaust: but also to note that they did use, like Swindon products, the Belpaire fi rebox, with a deeper, narrower grate between the rear driving wheels. It would be interesting to know whether a Kylchap exhaust was suitable equipment for those locomotives or not? M. Chapelon showed that it was workable and we still have one Caprotti class 5, 73125…… It may well be simply a matter of ‘horses for courses’: Swindon designed around the use of Welsh coal which does not fragment easily. It is somewhat disturbing to note that Roland Bond (eventually to become C.M.E, BR) a competent steam man, suggested trying the Duke with purely Welsh coal to see if one could point to the ash-pan or the grate as the source of the problem, but Harrison rubbished the idea (one wonders just what was in his mind…….) A propos nothing in particular, why is it whenever I encounter the name Derby in a railway context I am fi lled with a sense of despair? Probably just a legacy from the dreaded Anderson et al: what a pity Fowler was content to let them rule the roost. E. S. Cox was well aware of the situation at Derby. Since Henry Fowler’s inception as Chief Mechanical Engineer in

41 Martyn J. McGinty

1910, Works Assistant J. E. Anderson and his devotee Henderson, together with acolytes Chambers, Sanford, Symes and Campbell in the Locomotive Drawing Offi ce (LDO), had formed a cosy coterie, with Fowler’s somewhat naïve blessing, designed to protect their interests by resisting change and worrisome suggestions for radical improvements. Th is comfy bed of laurels, scented as it was with the cloying perfume of self-assurance, served them very well until 1926 when, following the grouping in 1923, the Chairman of the now L.M.S.R., Sir Guy Granet, decided that a management shake-up was the only thing that would transform the fortunes of a company still in thrall to the old and stultifying M.R. hierarchy. So it was, in 1926, that Fowler had a chance to change and accelerate the course of locomotive development in this country in a way that is particularly relevant to our subject. It seems, on refl ection, that it was one of those delightfully serendipitous moments when several disconnected events start turning and coalesce about a common centre. Th e principal components of this potentially golden confl uence were: a) Fowler’s timely awareness that change was in the making (new brooms were at work in the executive suite.) b) His legacy of drawings for large compound locomotives from his predecessor Hughes (one such was actually under construction) c) A successful prototype (a converted Hughes 4-6-0 No. 10456) and: d) Most important of all, a rather ‘spiky’ but nevertheless obviously brilliant ex-pupil of his appropriately named E. L. Diamond (a true gem and one to watch, one might have thought, but Fowler’s attention was apt to wander). It happened about this time that Anderson, now Motive Power Superintendent, had arranged some trials between the best of the L.M.S.R. stud of locomotives to determine the course of the building programme. Anderson and his immediate superior, J. H. Follows (another ex M.R. man) were delighted with the outcome, which clearly promoted an ex M.R. engine, the 3 cylinder 4-4-0 compound and gave the LDO an easy ride for some time to come. Howsomever, our Mr Diamond was watching and waiting – he obtained the indicator cards from the dynamometer car used in the tests and wrote a paper which he submitted to the I. Mech. E. In due course it was accepted and laid open for discussion.

42 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

What Diamond pointed out, essentially, was that, although the engine in question might have been the best, it was still pretty poor. What is of greater moment though is what he suggested as a remedial solution: longer valve travel, larger, smoother and more direct steam ports and passages and (what is central to our theme) he was dismissive of conventional valve gear, suggesting poppet valves as a far more effi cient alternative. Follows, and particularly Anderson, must have been horrifi ed: who was this upstart fl ying in the face of all things Midland? Everybody knew that 3 ¾” was the limit for valve travel and as for redesigning the steam circuit - heaven forefend! And foreign things like poppet valves – well really! Fowler, to his credit, obtained a copy of the paper but failed to grasp the point and pursued instead the idea of four cylinder compounds (which were slightly more effi cient than three) notably the 4-6-2, on which a start had already been made under Hughes. Th e principles evinced by Diamond clearly showed that he knew more about steam propulsion than most of his contemporaries at Derby - especially Fowler (who later actually admitted to his successor Ivatt that he did not even understand Walschaert’s valve gear) but if he is to persuade and convert people to his point of view, even a genius needs patience and guile, qualities Diamond unfortunately lacked. At any rate, the man Anderson soon got wind of Fowler’s intentions and managed to convince the Board that, as none of the existing turntables was long enough, the cost of a renewal programme alone would prohibit the development of a 4-6-2. Fowler was considerably peeved by this but, instead of confronting the entire issue, he let it slide and one by one the ingredients of the formula for change evaporated. Fowler had been in a prime position to see and act on all the relevant factors and create a brilliant reputation for himself. Nevertheless, because he would not devote himself to his work, determined as he was to safeguard his sporting interests, his civic duties and his personal pleasures, the chance slipped through his limp fi ngers and was lost, not only to him, but to posterity as well. Events then overtook the moment and Fowler went on to what he was perhaps better suited, organising the production of the Royal Scots. Th at required skill born of experience of course, but had no need of the grit, determination and imagination vital to fundamental progress, the very quality that had made the North British Locomotive Company great and capable of turning out those successful engines a matter of months after

43 Martyn J. McGinty their conception at the drawing board. Within two years, André Chapelon had applied exactly the same arguments as Diamond and snatched an unassailable lead. Despite the examples shown by Lentz, Reidinger and Caprotti in the use of poppet valves, Britain never caught up until the next ‘golden moment’ came in 1954 when Riddles seized the opportunity created by fate. Even Riddles was briefl y beguiled by the persuasive tones of the didact Anderson. Apparently J. E. A. used to preach this hidebound maxim (among others, no doubt) about piston speed and an upper limit beyond which effi ciency was lost: hence big wheels were ‘mandatory’ for speedy locomotives – a pity his wheel bearings weren’t commensurate with his infl uence. So: Riddles argued successfully with Stanier for 6’9” driving wheels on the Duchesses. (Later he regretted his by then self-confessed error – he had of course been led astray by a superior who might have known better.) When he realised that smaller driving wheels are really no impediment to speed, the acceptance of the standard range was assured. His monumental success with the Britannias, and then the 9Fs, which soon followed, proved the point beyond any dispute. (He also noticed that roller bearings had no great advantage over properly kept plain bearings, the former only marginally reducing maintenance at great expense – Churchward might have smiled.) At any rate there still seemed to be a whiff of that intransigence and perversity about at Derby when 71K was being schemed out. I expect I will be accused of having an over-active imagination or even of paranoia, but, as an analogy, just think briefl y about the determination of the W.R. of B.R. to destroy once and for all the Somerset & Dorset Railway once it came under their aegis – and this some 80 – 90 years after the rescue of the S. & D. by the L.S.W.R. to snatch it from the very jaws of the G.W.R. Old attitudes seem to survive simply on the echoes. So in summation we can say that as built the Duke was a disaster – at least, in the old sense of the word, i.e. an ill-starred occurrence. Having dodged the Drawcansir of Derby a course had been set between the Scylla of Swindon and the Charybdis of Crewe. Alas, the Duke then fell foul of both. When things turn out like that, it’s tempting to suspect malign infl uences.

44 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

Top: Riddles, Cox and Bond discuss standards. (B.R.) Bottom: Riddles with the ‘Coronation Scot’ in America. (Th e Times- Union Democrat and Chronicle).

45 Martyn J. McGinty

Top: Th e farewell footplate trip after his retirement. (B.R.) Bottom: Th e Harrow and Wealdstone disaster. (Syndication International).

46 Th e Life and Times of a Duke









Top: A rare picture of 45637 “ Windward Islands” before its total destruction at Harrow. (By kind permission of Th e Manchester Locomotive Society – the Tom Lewis collection). Bottom: 46202 “Princess Anne” as built in 1952. (National Railway Museum).

47 Martyn J. McGinty

Top: 46242 “City of Glasgow” after Harrow. (National Railway Museum). Bottom: 46202 “Princess Anne” after Harrow. (B.R.)

48 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

Top: 46242 “City of Glasgow” - as good as new after repair, date and location unknown. (Rex Conway). Bottom: 71000 “Duke of Gloucester” brand new at the International Rail Exhibition at Willesden. (Courtesy of Th e Railway Correspondence and Travel Society).

49 Martyn J. McGinty

Top: 71K with the 1.35pm. Euston to Perth gets a shove up Camden bank, May 1957. (Courtesy of Th e Railway Correspondence and Travel Society/Peter Groom). Bottom: “Th e Duke” at Dai Woodham’s scrapyard Barry. (Courtesy of Th e Railway Correspondence and Travel Society/J.F.Ward).

50 Th e Life and Times of a Duke





Top: 71000 en route to Th e Great Central Railway for restoration. (Courtesy of Peter Kenyon). Bottom: 71K stripped and laid out for examination. (Courtesy of Peter Kenyon).

51 Martyn J. McGinty

Top: “Th e Duke” aloft at Crewe Works prior to re-wheeling. (Courtesy of Graham Collier). Bottom: 71000 on test in 1990 near Derby. (Phil Clutton).

52 Th e Life and Times of a Duke





 Top: “Th e Duke” delighting thousands on the West Somerset Railway in 1995. (Colin J Marsden). Bottom: Overhead view of cam-box interior. (Courtesy of Peter Kenyon).

53 Martyn J. McGinty













 Top and Middle: Sectional views ( Caprotti cam-box) (Locomotive valves and valve-gear: Percival Marshall). Bottom: Schematic diagram of Caprotti valve-gear/drive for 3cyl. locomotive. (B.R.)

54 Chapter 3 Th e Whys and Wherefores of Restoration

It is, I suppose, a small yet intriguing area of life, steam locomotive preservation, though arguably greater in this country than in any other. Not so much simply the ‘steam’ component as the choices made of which steam locomotives to preserve. When one studies the complete list and its chronology, there are some surprises. When the stock of restorable locomotives was plentiful, choices could be made on the basis of last heavy general overhaul, recorded boiler condition, thickness of tyres and so forth. Towards the end the choices were very much of the Hobson’s variety and it is a matter of amazement to me that, in the end, even the apparently hopeless cases were still taken away for some belated T.L.C. It is understandable, even logical, that so many Black 5s should survive – despite the (frankly) awful Midland injector they are damned good workhorses: yet some of the earlier choices were un-rebuilt WC/BB types. Th ey are the recipients of selfl ess dedication: cantankerous, greedy and hell to service and maintain. Th is is a physical expression of two of the most striking assets of true Britishness – stubbornness and the protective love of the underdog. At least one group took the more practical route and actually rebuilt the locomotive themselves: now we have 34081 92 Squadron up and running in a more viable form, although I can see the argument for authenticity – albeit an uncertain one. After all, opinion was sharply divided amongst the fi tters and footplatemen who had the dubious pleasures of day-to-day

55 Martyn J. McGinty operation and maintenance of these machines. Some crews loved them, others hated them. Th e fi tters that took the time and eff ort to understand their idiosyncracies were fond of them but, I suspect, like the owner of an unusual motor car such as the Maserati Citröen (for which no operator’s manual was available) who has learnt to deal with its quirks, actually more proud of their hard-earned knowledge than the objects of their attention. Th ere are too the devotees of the Swindon tradition – the admirers of Churchward’s copper-capped wonders. (I say Churchward advisedly: Collett was largely content to bask in the warmth of Churchward’s refl ected glory. Th e Castles and Kings are, after all, simply ‘super-Stars’ and the Halls, Granges and Manors, Saints twice beatifi ed. I do not deny their beauty and compact power, but the inaccessibility of the valve gear, especially on the 4 cylinder Castles and Kings, makes life unnecessarily hard for fi tters and crew alike. Th ey were designed when the average size of men was a lot less (probably by dint of a poorer diet, lower health standards and arduous working conditions) and when men were more inclined to accept impractical and pernickety designs without question or complaint: ergonomics was an unheard of subject back then. What does puzzle me greatly though is the fact that the last of the Castles were still being constructed after Nationalisation, when one might have expected more enlightened attitudes to prevail, but no, Swindon was Swindon. Before getting down to the nitty-gritty of the Duke itself, I think the motivation is worth discussion in view of the exceptional scale of this particular exercise. From a personal point of view I can say “Yes, I understand” – but how to convey such a conviction to reasonable people who have some notion of the work, the money and the timescale involved? Well, I think it comes down to very primitive feelings at the end of any relevant discussion. We have to remember that the members of the group initially involved were contemporaries of the steam age and this implies a great deal. When we are young, especially during the formative years, sights, sounds and especially smells burn deep impressions into the subconscious. Th is is part of an ancient defence mechanism enabling the mind to make snap decisions about fi ght, fl ight, food and so forth. So it follows that the pleasant associations that went with holidays, for example, would remain for a long time. Large numbers of people went by rail in the ‘50s and ‘60s to enjoy their summer breaks, so the memories and feelings experienced were common to many and mentally fi led under pleasant, good, safe, etc.

56 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

When the demise of steam came it arrived with a marked social change. Cars were swiftly becoming a commonplace; comparatively characterless diesel locomotives were all the rage. Th is change did not conform with ‘pleasant, good and safe’ and it left an aching, empty place inside many of us. If to assuage that unpleasant feeling meant recreating something of what had been then, so be it, that is what would have to be done. I think a lot of people, or at least a signifi cant number, looked at the indecent haste of the changes and felt cheated. All in all the factors outlined above provided a very strong motivation to do what might seem to many people today to be totally pointless and impractical. In Britain we are peculiarly placed, geographically and meteorologically: we very rarely have to put up with the irksome distractions of really bad weather and long periods of frost and snow, yet nor do we have the soporifi c infl uence of months of sunshine and warm winters to be found further south. Th ese factors are more conducive to an active interest in physical leisure activities and the buoyant attitude necessary for strenuous hobbies like the heavy engineering involved in railway preservation and also help to foster the long-term planning essential to such projects. In any case, over history it has been noted that man has always felt a need for physical reminders of what he considers to be right, proper and his due. Many thousands of years ago cave paintings were created to remind men of their food sources and maintain memories of their conquests – many of the animals depicted are shown with wounds, and weapons such as clubs and spears fi gure prominently. So to recreate the actual object of one’s pleasant memories is just a logical step further, especially when, with persistence and diligence, such devotees can not only have it but share it with others of similar mind and pass it on after their demise. I can hear the nay-sayers already: “Why put all that eff ort into something old-fashioned? Let’s have something modern.” Well, is ‘modern’ necessarily better? In order to believe that one has to forget the lessons of the past for they surely dampen the enthusiasm and hinder the creative drive – yet does not history repeat itself? A look at the ‘modern’ railway reveals quite a lot. What on earth is the point of designing trains to go faster if there’s no room for a sizeable proportion of the passengers to sit down? Th is creates a potentially dangerous situation if the train derails at high speed because of the shoddy or even non-existent maintenance of the infrastructure, which followed as a direct consequence of privatisation. Could someone please explain to me how it is possible for a handful of get-rich-quick merchants to buy the railway system, sack 15000

57 Martyn J. McGinty maintenance workers and then be allowed to milk the public purse for subsidies to guarantee their profi ts while they belatedly repair what they allowed to go to rack and ruin from day one, even as they were lining their oversized pockets? ‘Modern’ it might be, but acceptable it is not. As far as ‘improvements’ go, I personally couldn’t care less if it takes an hour longer to go to London, Newcastle, Edinburgh or wherever, as long as I get there safely, to a stated realistic schedule, and sitting down. I don’t believe it makes any real diff erence to business people either as, more often than not they spend the journey time doing paperwork and prattling on their mobile ’phones: to them the train is just an annexe to the offi ce block. What they spend less time on in the real offi ce gets done in 1st class anyway – a classic example of swings and roundabouts. (By the bye, I’ve never really understood why some of them need mobile ‘phones. Th ey talk so loudly I’m quite sure if they went to the vestibule and leaned out of the window they could be heard perfectly well anyway.) If, on the other hand, comfort and safety are deemed to be old fashioned, well fi ne – let’s be old fashioned: let’s take the stress out of rail travel. “As any fule know” stress is the biggest cause of mental and physical illness there is and on that basis, as things are, modern public passenger trains ought to carry a health warning. Isn’t it ironic that when people travel by rail for pleasure it is on specially organised excursions with individually selected preserved locomotives, as often as not steam powered? It is a terrible indictment on modern life that only people born before about 1950 can have any real notion of the joy and excitement of looking forward to a fairly long rail journey – to go on holiday maybe or visit relatives in far-fl ung places for Christmas perhaps. I’m afraid that regular rail travel has priced itself out of the reach of a lot of people even if, by some miracle, it were to become once again an attractive mode of transport. (I wonder how many people can still remember the glorious pre-World War II days of the Big Four railway companies, particularly the Midland and the Great Western?) Th e present state of aff airs is all the more galling because in the 1970s we had the opportunity to be like Holland, a country of comparable size, population and transportation needs. Look at their beautifully integrated transport systems and weep – for that is what we could have had were it not for successive governments hell-bent on building roads. It has been said that a country gets the government it deserves: I think that’s rather bitter and retributory but it is true to say that public indiff erence is a great facilitator of administrative iniquity.

58 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

Looking at the contemporary enthusiasm for preservation it is surprising to observe that members of the current ‘younger generation’ are motivated to associate meaningfully with projects which have no direct relevance to their lives or memories, but that they are is enormously gratifying. We of the previous generations do it I suspect largely because we ‘want it back’ (i.e. that which was ‘stolen’ from us) and the motivating force is personalised. It is obvious then that the driving force behind anyone considerably younger who chooses to become involved is more altruistic and all the more worthy of vigorous encouragement: they are self-motivated and don’t have nostalgia and a sense of loss to chivvy them along. To involve oneself in something as necessarily long-term as a large locomotive restoration (or indeed a new-build such as the A1) is a big mental transition for anyone brought up and living in this tawdry age of impermanence – the so-called ‘throw-away society’. We seem to have reached the point (rather like the ‘defence’ industries) where, no matter how modern you consider your latest acquisition to be, it’s already obsolete even before you get it home. I am neither interested in, nor capable of, living at that speed or, for that matter, in such a wasteful manner, mainly I suppose because it allows no time for contemplation, refl ection and satisfaction. I dearly hope I’m not mistaken, but I think I can just see the fi rst signs of a backlash against this run-away consumerism, not only in railway restoration and re-creation circles but also among people in their 20s and 30s who have classic cars tucked away in the process of restoration – MGBs, Lancias, 1960s Jags, 1600E Cortinas, Opel Monzas and the like – motor- bikes too. Th e point is, they can be worked on and maintained by people of reasonable aptitude, unlike the modern equivalent, designed to make the owner run to the main dealer at the drop of a hat, to be charged £70 or £80 per hour for the privilege – not to mention the unrealistically high price of the parts which can only work in conjunction with a computer anyway. Lest it be thought that I am hopelessly out of touch and a total dinosaur, I would like to point out that I am not against progress. Th e problem is that much of what is called progress simply is not. Rather it is the result of schemes to ‘separate the punters from their money’. Th e three main areas where it is most noticeable are motor vehicles, consumer goods generally, and sport. Cars have already had a mention, but consumer goods? I don’t want to go back to the age of the wash-tub and mangle, but what about electrical goods with timers built into the electronics to make them fail

59 Martyn J. McGinty just after the warranty expires? Yes, really, and legally upheld. I don’t want sport to be hampered by pointless and time-worn traditions: imagine, for example, golf with cleeks, mashies, niblicks, brassies and spoons carted about manually for you by a subservient, perspiring, caddy in plus fours and a cloth cap! Heaven forefend, but sport now is an industry whose turnover is measured in billions and needs lots of Joe Public’s money to keep it going. Th ink of the spin-off in mascot buying, season tickets and so forth, not to mention touting, and one sees that sport is not sport any more – not by the accepted defi nition anyway. Putting aside the more questionable aspects of the 21st Century, the great satisfaction of working with steam is that, even with the relatively sophisticated Caprotti valve gear, there is nothing you can’t see, touch, or understand. But please don’t get the impression that steam locomotives were crudely constructed: it simple isn’t true. Swindon may have had certain failings, but imprecision wasn’t one of them and the G.W.R. led the fi eld in accurate frame construction using multi-head horn grinders and a German optical alignment system that was only adopted by other constructors in Britain after nationalisation. Accuracy in certain areas is essential to extended periods between overhauls while judiciously estimated play is equally important in others. It has been said that a steam locomotive is the only power unit ever designed with a fully fl oating crankshaft and I suppose I have to agree: otherwise it would not go around corners and accept a certain degree of unevenness in the track on which it rides. Having said that, when one thinks back to the time when steam haulage was a commonplace, the state of some of the locomotives when getting close to a heavy general repair occasionally beggared belief. Sometimes, because the Works wouldn’t accept them before their allotted time, shed foremen would sideline them (since crews would refuse to use them) and ‘accumulate’ the necessary mileage by ‘cooking the books’!! Essentially then, we have earth, fi re and water put to work for us with none of the complications of sandwiched circuit boards, satellite communications or quantum theory. (Richard Feinman, one of the most gifted scientists who has ever lived, actually said “If anyone tells you they understand quantum mechanics, then they don’t understand quantum mechanics: I don’t even understand it!” Yet a lot of stuff we use and take for granted now relies on the principles involved, if only partially understood.)

60 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

Yes, there is a computer in our house (and dozens of other gadgets that I would never have dreamed of owning 40 years ago) but I still fi nd it easier to look things up in books. No passwords, booting up and waiting, waiting, waiting because all the world and their wives are trying to do the same thing and consequently waiting, waiting, waiting as well. So there we have it: steam locomotives may involve hard work and some measure of dirt and discomfort, but the average human being can relate to them easily and be thrilled by the sight of one at speed with a dozen or more coaches on the hook. It puts a totally diff erent interpretation on the phrase ‘engine management’: as an erstwhile ‘vehicle technician’ (as mechanics are now known) I saw engine management systems as just something else to go wrong, and inevitably, being man-made, they will do just that. Th en it’s time for ‘a new unit sir,’ major surgery and expense. Someone please take it all away again. (Oh for a Stanley Steamer or a Sentinel steam lorry!) A surprising number of people do not realise that just like any other vehicle with wheels, locomotives have tyres – not infl atable ones to be sure, but tyres nevertheless. Th eir presence is for the same reason as bushes in plain bearings, viz. to accept the wear and tear of everyday use. Th erefore they must be examined, not just for structural defects, but also for wear. When this reaches the accepted limit, then the tyre is replaced rather than the entire component: as with the bush in a bearing, so with the tyre on a wheel. Th e profi le (or cross-sectional outline) of a railway tyre is important too; it gives a centring eff ect, helping to guide the vehicle about the railway system in an effi cient manner, reducing friction due to wandering which would place all the stress on the fl anges, which should work as limiters. Nevertheless, on tight curves and certain sensitive areas like bridge structures check rails are provided to obviate as far as possible the chance of derailment should the fl anges tend to be over-ridden. Regular examination of tyres is therefore essential and tyres may have to be re- profi led several times before they become life-expired, probably at about 90,000 miles. On preserved railways it is necessary to turn locomotives regularly to even out tyre wear which otherwise becomes unequal from one side of the locomotive to the other, due to a limited and biased pattern of work. Re-profi ling need not imply the removal of wheel-sets and the use of a conventional lathe: modern methods employ a suitably equipped workshop with a pit and combined jack and profi ling machine at rail level, all modern rolling stock being dealt with in this manner.

61 Martyn J. McGinty

Boiler maintenance is probably the most arduous, time consuming and expensive facet of locomotive management, and arguably the most important. In the days of regular steam haulage when locomotives were used intensively, boiler wash outs were carried out fortnightly with a ‘boiler- full’ examination every week. Th e removal of impurities from the boiler at regular intervals is vitally important. Th ose of us who are lucky enough to live in soft water areas may not appreciate the problem fully, but will probably be aware of it having seen advertisements for various means of water softening. Suffi ce it to say that water quality varies considerably about the country and therein lies the problem for main line steam locomotive operators: their charges move about and take water where and when needed all over Britain. Th e problem can be alleviated to some extent by adding chemicals to the water in the tender, but impurities will still be precipitated to one degree or another in the boiler by the ebullition of steam. If they are not removed they will build up, harden and begin to ‘heave’ like ice in a refrigerator that is left unchecked by failure to defrost. So, in the absence of hot water wash-out facilities, having allowed the boiler to cool, all the wash-out plugs and mud-hole doors are removed. Any mud-hole doors that have any chance of falling in when they are freed should be safety-wired: once they’re gone they can be irretrievable. A good plan is to number them all for position, too, to guarantee easy re- fi tting. When an examination proves the boiler to be as clean as possible it can be ‘boxed up’ making sure that all threads and mating faces are clean. ‘Tighten as you fi t’ is a good rule to avoid leaving any slack through oversight by distraction. After scale, corrosion is the next worst enemy – some chemical, some electrolytic. With the latter in mind, naval practice in years gone by, when copper fi reboxes were used in conjunction with steel boilers, was to place zinc blocks in the boiler to act as an anode and stabilise conditions. At some dépôts where short turn-round times were sought, hot wash-out facilities using boiling water were introduced to avoid the need for a cooling off period after duty. Th e introduction of cold water into a hot boiler is a recipe for disaster. To attempt to cool a large complicated assembly of a number of diff erent metals by several hundred degrees in a few minutes imposes enormous stresses that simply cannot be accommodated by such a structure: the result is invariably serious, expensive damage. Broken stays, leaking tubes and structural cracks may be expected as the normal outcome and so when it’s time to heat the boiler from cold the same precautions must be observed. (As this process, one way or the other, takes

62 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

3 – 4 hours depending on the ambient temperature, the advantage of hot wash-outs can readily be understood.) Probably the best way to appreciate the eff ect of great heat on such a large structure is by simple observation. Th e front of a boiler is anchored to the locomotive frames usually at the smoke box, where it rests on the saddle. Look at a locomotive at the other end by the fi rebox or ash-an and note the position of something obvious like a wash-out plug or ash-pan door relative to a point on the mainframe. Th en look again when the same locomotive is hot: the diff erence is immediately obvious, even staggering to the uninitiated. For this reason this end of the boiler is free to fl oat, the fi rebox wrapper resting on two slides fi xed to the inside of the mainframes, and a great deal of the pipework is of copper, the ductibility of which is able to accept more easily the stresses set up by expansion and contraction. It goes without saying that this is another important factor which must be born in mind at the design stage, where careful consideration of pipe runs, mountings and fi xings can prevent fi tters’ nightmares during the life of the machine. (It is relevant to note that when the fi rst of Midland class 4 2-6-0s – Doodlebugs – were built, they incorporated large amounts of steel piping. It very soon became apparent that this was an ill-considered choice and one by one, as they visited the works for repairs, it was discarded and replaced by copper with its additional merit of resistance to corrosion.) With regard to day-to-day running, a lot of the problems experienced – indeed even expected – with the boiler and its adjuncts tend to be self- advertising – steam blows, leaky tubes, fi re box cracks and the like. Other faults tend to be hidden and need to be deduced, such as blocked tubes and fl ues, cracked super-heater elements and dirty injectors, ejectors and clack valves - hence the need for experience and constant vigilance. Th e old adage ‘a stitch in time saves nine’ is particularly apt and a walk around a well-warmed up locomotive at the fi rst opportunity aff ords the best chance of nipping problems in the bud. After boiler inspections come what used to be called X days, i.e. valve/ piston examinations. Some locomotives like the little Ivatt 2-6-2Ts and 2-6-0s would go 80,000 – 90,000 miles without attention. Others, like the Caprotti Standard 5s needed rings every 8,000 miles, if heavily used. On average though, most locomotives could go 35,000 - 40,000 miles without renewals. However, if the standard tests indicate damaged rings, then out they come. What kind of mileage may be expected from the Duke has no precedent, as it is a one-off , but one might expect better than that from

63 Martyn J. McGinty a Britannia simply because the Duke is smoother in performance (partly because of the bracing aff orded by the middle cylinder to a degree, because it is a 3 cylinder locomotive, and to a similar extent because of the nature and performance of the valve gear.) It should be noted that, even as one of the most popular preserved locomotives, the yearly mileage is unlikely to exceed 6,000 – 7,000 miles and even that reduced fi gure at moderate average speed. (Unfortunately we no longer see express steam at 90 – 100 m.p.h.) An area of the Duke that does require constant vigilance is the coupling rod bushes. It was a problem with Britannias and may have been inherited, although with a more user-friendly chassis, lower overall speeds and less demanding schedules the problem may have receded, as with the loose slide-bar history. Th e other areas requiring routine maintenance are more straightforward and are consequently easier and less expensive to deal with. Although nothing on a steam locomotive is cheap, items like fi re bars, brake blocks, bearing springs and materials for the fi re box arch are less of a headache, albeit an ever-present burden. Th ere is one other part of regular attention that is not readily apparent to the casual observer and it is an area that has largely disappeared from road vehicle maintenance simply because of the continual advances in design, materials and lubricating oil technology: viz. valves and pistons. In internal combustion engine use and maintenance, reliability has reached a level where, providing one uses pure synthetic oil and changes this at precisely regulated intervals, the engine components will not exhibit any meaningful degree of wear. Th e days of valve grinding and top and bottom end rebuilds are long gone. Unhappily, the same cannot be said for steam locomotives, in which regular piston and valve examinations are ‘de rigeur’ and in normal circumstances this means every 36,000 miles. Even some modern locomotives were noted for heavy wear in this area: the Caprotti class 5s in particular, as already mentioned, although it is suspected that there were underlying reasons for this which are mentioned elsewhere.

64 Chapter 4 Rescue and Rebirth

Th e 24th November 1962: Riddles’ fl awed masterpiece was fi nally withdrawn after six weeks in store at 5A and proposed for restoration and preservation. 71000 languished at Crewe North for a further two years and in December 1964 was moved to Crewe works where it lingered awaiting a decision as to its fate. Eventually in early 1967 it was fi nally condemned. Th e left hand cylinder and valve gear were preserved for exhibition at the Science Museum, the equivalent parts on the right hand side also being removed in order to evaluate the best method of sectioning the left. What was left of 71000 was sold for scrap to Dai Woodham and departed from Crewe South the same year, almost to be lost for ever as it was delivered in error to Cashmore’s of Newport. Fortunately a sharp-eyed postman, Maurice Sheppard, who happened to be on site, noted the details on the delivery ticket and a tragedy was avoided by a whisker, not for the last time, as we shall see. Th e remains were transferred to Dai Woodham’s yard at Barry and there the hulk rested until 1973. Early that year a group of enthusiasts gathered together with a view to the rescue of 71000. In one of that group, Colin Rhodes, a passion was kindled which was to burn for the rest of his life. He set about wider recruitment and the 71000 Preservation Society was founded. It was clear that the scale of the project was enormous. Initially the group was lampooned but they were completely undaunted. Th is was in good measure due to (a) the avid involvement of Hugh Philips, a Caprotti devotee who had access to a complete collection of engineering drawings

65 Martyn J. McGinty of the valve gear components, and (b) the drive and organisational abilities of Colin Rhodes who let the initial scorn of the Association of Railway Preservation Societies blow by him like autumn leaves. Far from being disheartened, the group was strengthened in its resolve and the British Bulldog spirit was swiftly engendered. Unhappily, due mainly to well- publicised ridicule by a small number of typically vociferous declaimants (empty vessels always make the most noise) the usual fund raising eff orts were doomed. It was therefore proposed that, at least to begin with, the enterprise be self-funding. It seems that Hugh Phillips became involved through a fortuitous meeting; in the early days of the rescue, the team was Barry considering the task before them when Hugh appeared. He commented to Peter Kenyon, “You’ve got your work cut out there!” From that auspicious remark grew the vital relationship between the team and Hugh Phillips Engineering of Tredegar. With rare courage, faith and fortitude, some thirty-odd members backed the scheme with their own funds and formed a limited company. Th is got them over the fi rst hurdle, the purchase of the remains of 71000 from Mr. Woodham, with a tender in the deal, for £4,950 (just 10% of its original construction cost in 1954) and on 24th April 1974 they were on their way to the Great Central Railway Preservation Society at Loughborough. (Th e tender, a BRIC type No. 1344 from 92134 followed 7 months later and replaced the original which had unfortunately been sold. A good will gesture, however, had provided them with a chimney and smoke defl ectors.) It is for reasons such as the deal outlined above that Dai Woodham is revered as a philanthropist and patron of the steam preservation movement. He waived a fast turnover and a quick profi t in return for a long-term steady return and was generous to a fault in his fl exible terms of business, allowing leeway for planning and the generation of revenue. A very enlightened attitude compared with, say, banks, the legal profession, Railtrack, the BR property board and so on: surely the man deserves to be canonised! Once at Loughborough, under the wing of the Main Line Steam Trust, progress began in earnest. In 1977 two new administrative bodies were formed, viz. 71000 Steam Locomotive Limited to encourage the generation of revenue through share sales, and ‘Th e 71000 (Duke of Gloucester) Steam Locomotive Trust, a registered charity having the locomotive in trust. Th e president of the Trust was the greatly interested Duke of Gloucester himself, HRH Prince Richard. Th e vice presidents

66 Th e Life and Times of a Duke were R. A. Riddles, L. T. Daniels, Sir Julian Hodge and J. F. Harrison. Th e founder members were Colin Rhodes, Chairman, and Peter King, Hugh Philips, Chris Ball, Basil Stephenson, Tony Smith, Dr. Gary Shannon (as C.M.E.), Mike Johnson, Colin Smith, and many others. Th e long haul had begun in earnest. A preliminary examination had indicated the boiler, fi rebox, wrapper plate and tube plates to be sound, as were the wheels, axles and frames. As the wheel bearings were the sealed roller type, it was fairly certain that there would be little or no trouble in that department and, indeed, this was born out by an independent professional examination. What faced Colin Rhodes was the enormously complicated task of producing a cohesive, prioritised, long term plan for the sourcing, production and assemblage of the missing parts, while holding down a full-time job. Whilst considering this, there was the immediate task of protecting the existing components from any further deterioration: a complete strip-down and a course of remedial treatment was embarked upon. In simple terms this meant separation of the cab-shell, boiler/fi rebox, all wheels/bearing/axle assemblies and mainframes. Some items at this stage were found to be beyond redemption, such as cladding and running plates: anything made of light gauge steel had been corroded beyond repair by the healthy seaside air at Barry! Th e other items were scrupulously cleaned and, where necessary, chemically treated to remove deep rust pitting, followed by steam cleaning and long term suitable anti-corrosive painting. Th e black paint on the wheels and mainframes was, it seems, very resistant to removal. Railway companies at one time were very fond of using ‘Black Japan’ for such applications (pardon the pun). Also called Japan lacquer, this was a glossy black varnish whose essential component was an extract from a sumach (Rhus vernicifera). Extremely durable and resistant to heat, oil and steam etc., it is a moot point whether BR were still using it in 1954. It is highly likely though, as the offi cial description of the paint scheme includes the following: ‘Black: Spec. 30 Item 35. For hot areas Spec. 30 item 39.’ Th e commercial vehicle industry certainly had a counterpart called ‘chassis black,’ an extremely resilient substance which, once dry, was virtually unassailable in my experience unless one resorted to great heat, vicious tools or aggressive chemicals.

67 Martyn J. McGinty

So then, to recap, the essential and by no means inconsiderable, preparatory work had been done and the decision to restore completely to main line standard had been voted on and completely accepted. When one considers the enormity of that statement it follows that someone of quite extraordinary organisational ability was required who would not be daunted simply by the relentless pressure involved in maintaining momentum: that someone was of course Colin Rhodes and it is safe to say that without him the project would have had a very uncertain future even if it had not foundered completely. Th e start was glacially slow, with only the Science Museum showing any support: a grant of £6,000 was made in respect of cylinders and valve gear which must have been encouraging when one thinks about a simplifi ed list of needed components or those wanting refurbishment: Mainframe interfaces: Roadsprings/hangers, buffi ng gear, drawgear/ damper and safety chains. Boiler (tubes, tubeplate(s), superheater header); Associated fi ttings (safety valves, clacks, regulator valve, steam manifold, injectors, and whistle); Firebox (fusible plugs, wash-out plugs, mudhole doors, bars, carriers, rocking gear and grate, ashpan and fi rehole doors); Smokebox (blastpipe, blower, Kylchap fi ttings and chimney, wrapper, door and furniture, and self-cleaning kit); Lubrication equipment (mercifully less than usual, due to the locomotive’s design); Brake gear (blocks, cranks and rodding and all the associated pipework, cylinders and valves); Cab fi ttings (controls and gauges) Valve gear (gearboxes, camboxes, couplings, drivegear, cranks and associated brackets and sundries); Cylinders (with liners, rings, pistons and rods, crossheads and slidebars, gland packings, relief valves and cylinder cocks); coupling and connecting rods. Last but by no means least, mind boggling quantities of copper pipe in a multiplicity of lengths and diameters, all needing shaping, swaging, brazing and soldering, and all the various associated olives and unions. (It occurred to me whilst compiling this list that the Duke has oval front buff ers. I had always thought that these were only specifi ed when a risk of buff er-locking was considered a strong possibility - as, for example, on the class 4 2-6-4 Ts. One would have thought, in view of the radius of the arc described by the pony truck on the 9 Fs, and the distance to the fi rst driving axle, that they too would have been likely candidates, but I am not aware that their absence ever presented a problem. From a purely personal point of view I have always preferred the look of oval buff er heads, yet I cannot somehow bring myself to believe that

68 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

Riddles, or anybody else for that matter, would have found that suffi cient reason for the use of a non-standard item – any comments or relevant information would be welcomed via the publisher.) Th e tender became a project on its own. In many people’s minds it is only a glorifi ed coal-scuttle cum water-butt, but truth to tell it is a vehicle nonetheless with brakes, springs, tyres, axle boxes, buffi ng and drawgear (and let’s not forget the safety chains, pipework and coal pusher). Th e only item the team was spared was the water pick-up equipment – no troughs nowadays! To back all this up there was an enormous number of components which hide under the generic mantle of ‘fi xings’: this includes nuts, screws, bolts, rivets, washers, pins (split, plain and taper), circlips, rollpins, jubilee clips, pipe clips, cable ties (one of the great inventions of our time, way up there with the zip fastener) and brackets, gibs and cotters (not to mention paint, solvents, lubricants and cleaning materials). While a preliminary examination had indicated that the boiler was in reasonable condition, subsequent closer inspection revealed wastage in the front tubeplate. Short term solutions were rejected and a new tubeplate commissioned. Th e specialist shaping machinery used to form the rim was no longer available and so, under the watchful gaze of the relevant inspection bodies, a solution was proposed and accepted: a two part welded assembly would be produced. Of the items associated with the boiler, the missing exhaust injector, was to prove a particularly awkward obstacle on its own. An example was sourced through and purchased from the Italian State Railway, but proved to be of insuffi cient capacity. A new one had to be made and this was only possible after a large donation from an extremely generous supporter. Th is, although a signifi cant step forward, was marred by stumbling blocks. Davies & Metcalfe (D. & M.) had made the original but lacked a full set of patterns and drawings for the large ‘K’ class – the partial result of a fi re in 1962. Th e Trust engaged the invaluable assistance of John Leigh (Technical Manager) at D.& M. and gradually a proportion of drawings and patterns was assembled. With the aid of Hugh Phillips and an incomplete drawing of the body (which had miraculously survived) a process of logical evaluation over a long and very trying period produced a workable solution. Finally, in 1998, the new large ‘K’ type exhaust injector was fi nished, thanks additionally to Hugh Philips Engineering - and Brass Founders, Sheffi eld.

69 Martyn J. McGinty

When it came to the valve gear and its driving components, due to the involvement of Hugh Philips, it had been thought that time and money would provide – but of course, fate has a way of bowling googlies! One of the many fi rms brought ‘on-side’ was, happily, Froude Engineering. Originally Heenan & Froude Limited, it is a Worcester company with a solid pedigree and an interesting history. Th e founder was William Froude who, in 1877, invented the hydraulic dynamometer just before his death in 1879. With other measuring and monitoring equipment, these were the core products of an important and substantial organisation that helped heavy industry to thrive and expand in an exciting era and, like “Topsy” the company just grew and grew. By the turn of the century they were producing mining equipment, power plant, civil engineering steelwork and refuse handling equipment. Th eir dynamometers were world-famous: the larger ones were used to evaluate marine engines, large electric motors and turbines. On 29th September, 1891, the foundation stone for Blackpool Tower was laid. While Maxwell & Tuke were the architects, Heenan & Froude were engaged as the structural engineers and fi nished construction in May 1894, the grand opening taking place on the fourteenth of that month. Th e company passed into the hands of S.T.D. Motors Ltd. (Sunbeam, Talbot, Darracq) in 1920 for a period of fi fteen years until “Th e Slump” when S.T.D. was sold on. Under the chairmanship of A.P.Good, the company prospered and expanded, his interests being focussed largely on railway engineering with such fi rms as W.G.Bagnall, Brush Eng. Co. Ltd. and, signifi cantly, Associated Locomotive Engineering (A.L.E.) in Worcester. Up until 1953, when Mr. Good passed away, because of the number and variety of businesses he controlled, Heenan & Froude could produce almost anything they chose.(A signifi cant contract for Heenan Froude was the order for most of the equipment for Rugby Test Station). After 1953 the empire was broken up, Heenan & Froude relinquishing its engineering interests around 1970 - to the great consternation of the rescue group! As they had for many years been associated with the production of Caprotti valve gear components, they were happy to involve their apprentices’ training school in the manufacture of the spindles and valve cages for 71K. Unfortunately, a change of policy within the company resulted in the closure of the school. A chance visit by the representative who had been liaising with Colin Rhodes resulted in near panic: everything relevant had been binned! A prolonged search through a mountain of

70 Th e Life and Times of a Duke rubbish saved every single missing item. Th is was the second time tragedy had been narrowly averted. Yet another piece of rare good fortune was the fact that, at this time, Riddles had accepted the Chairmanship of Stothert & Pitt, Bath - the world renowned crane makers. Many of the castings for the absent valve- gear components were produced in their foundry, courtesy of the ways- and-means act! Although, due to lost expertise, the production of the scroll nuts proved to be a three year headache, with the bonus of return crank gearboxes sourced in Malaysia, the team’s confi dence was no doubt boosted. Th is would stand them in good stead for the next big hurdle: the missing cylinders. Unexpectedly, the drawings were to prove to be a major problem. Th e National Railway Museum was moving from Clapham to York: even when settled in, the Museum was still unable to locate the drawings and two whole years dragged by. Solutions were considered: one was to use all information available and produce new drawings; after several attempts, a consensus of the best minds available said: “Th at’s as good as it gets.” Of course, sod’s law decreed that the next thing to turn up was a set of the original drawings from York! It was interesting and very satisfying to compare the two and see that there were no meaningful diff erences. Th e next problem was an unwillingness, on the part of the various foundries who tendered for the work, to give any guarantees as to the soundness of the castings, as they were to be of steel, and subsequent x-ray examinations and welded repairs would be additional to the quotations. At this stage an agreement was reached with British Steel to use their Apprentice training school at Renishaw near Sheffi eld. A decision was made to use malleable (spheroidal graphite) iron or SGI instead, but due to the diff erent shrinkage rate of SGI the patterns had to be altered. Th e fi rst casting was a failure and a diff erent procedure had to be adopted for the assembly of the cores, patterns and moulding boxes. Having dealt with that problem, the next to rear its ugly head was an industrial dispute that went on for months. Th en the second set of moulds was condemned and it wasn’t until May 1980, over a year since work had started on the cylinder replacement phase, that a left hand cylinder was fi nally delivered. With the advantages of hindsight and the experience of all the exploratory work the right hand cylinder was much less of a problem

71 Martyn J. McGinty and arrived in another two months. Mercifully free from any errors, the match of cylinders and frames was near perfect. Th e main diffi culty was in actually lifting and off ering up these massive castings without the benefi ts of a railway factory with an overhead crane and specialised lifting tackle. One other area that gave the team diffi culties was the smokebox and the blastpipe/chimney arrangements. On consideration, it became abundantly clear that the original set-up was just plain wrong. Th ere was no doubt that Tom Daniels’ preference for the Kylchap type was based on good sense, as Riddles had known all along, but that presented another hurdle: there would have to be a fundamental change in the blastpipe itself. After a lengthy consideration of pros and cons, and a comparison with the A2 Blue Peter, a new casting was commissioned. As will be seen in Chapter 5, this was a complete success. Th ere was a bonus in the case of the Duke: when J. F. Harrison, apparently before his change of faith, had the A2 60539 fi tted up with a Kylchap exhaust, as built, he had to compromise - there was insuffi cient space for the self-cleaning kit as well; happily this does not apply to 71000. Although another four (60526/29/32/33) were subsequently retro-fi tted at the expense of the self-cleaning gear, this led to friction with the locomotives’ designer, A. H. Peppercorn. He initially gave the self-cleaning gear priority over the improved draughting because the latter necessitated the expense of a redesigned blastpipe and chimney and additional components to boot - so no more conversions were carried out. However, A.H.P. was not totally against the Kylchap principle, and the A1s all had it from new, assuring their popularity amongst the footplate contingent. When the tender arrived the same procedure was adopted as with the locomotive: it was dismantled and fully examined. While there were some structural repairs to be eff ected due to corrosion, the main problem lay in the condition of the wheel-sets – the tyres, especially those on axle two, were badly worn. More head-scratching and many ’phone calls produced an excellent solution. A steelworks in South Wales had purchased a number of tenders from Woodham’s and generously allowed the team to exchange, free of charge, the three sets of wheels and axles for others in good condition. Although this meant a lot of mucking about dropping and replacing heavy components twice, the expense of replacing and refi tting six tyres had been avoided.

72 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

At this stage it was thought that all the major problems had been solved and that whatever else needed doing, although time consuming and in need of funding, would be relatively painless: wrong! Because the missing connecting rods (3) and coupling rods (4) were of comparatively simple design, with straight forward known dimensions, it had been reasonably considered that their manufacture was low priority and could be left till last. It came as a terrible shock to be made aware that the cost of machining these items had increased nigh on exponentially over the nine intervening years. Furthermore, because of a shift in the national economy, the cost of steel had risen dramatically too - what once had been freely given now had to be paid for. Th e result was that, in order to fi nd the most reasonable economic way forward and yet still make some sort of progress, the production time spread out over a period between 1982 and 1986 - yet who could possible have predicted such an outcome? Th e frustration and disappointment must have been almost unbearable. Of course, during that time a myriad minor tasks were undertaken, some actually not so minor, like painting and pipework for example. At last though the day came, after thirteen years, when the Duke was able to be tested with an eleven coach train, and it was an obvious and resounding success. Th e team had hardly dared believe that nothing would be wrong, but their doubts, though reasonable, were unfounded. Th e only regret I have, personally, is that Riddles passed away before he could see the magnifi cent result of over a decade of dedication. It is all the more poignant because Riddles was the man who played a leading part in transforming Crewe works into an effi cient modern locomotive factory between 1925 and 1928, and ultimately it was to some extent Crewe that let him down. I would be loath to attempt a list of the individuals, companies and suppliers who were associated with this venture (some on generous terms, others giving sponsorship, materials, machining processes or even cash) for fear of omitting some names and giving off ence: but I will say that they all have every right to be proud to have contributed in any way, great or small. Without their participation the Duke would not exist. It must also be remembered that the cost of running and maintaining the locomotive is very substantial, so every penny that can be gleaned is vital to the continued existence of the locomotive. I truly believe that if many of the people directly involved in this amazing restoration had known, in 1974, that it would be the better part of 20 years before they could stand

73 Martyn J. McGinty back and look at a viable, revenue earning completion, they would have walked away. It requires a very special mindset to stick with a project of that nature and see it through to a successful conclusion. One has to go from day to day almost as with a prison sentence, except that it is self imposed. Th e fact that Colin Rhodes was able to gather people up and imbue them with the faith and enthusiasm for such a seemingly open-ended task speaks wonders for his drive and personality. Lesser mortals have been broken sooner by lighter burdens and there is no shame in that – we are most of us only human. Just once in a while though comes a very special sort of person – the ‘uber-mensch’ of German folklore: R. J. Mitchell, I. K. Brunel and John Harrison were other comparatively recent examples. Th e diff erence seems to be that, whereas you and I can occasionally excel when we are motivated and encouraged by others, these rare and special people are driven from within and seem not to doubt themselves. Th e price of such dedication is high: such a fi erce fl ame demands formidable fuel and the consequence is often a heavy toll on wellbeing. Let them and their like not be forgotten. It is particularly sad to note that Colin Rhodes, having seen the 71K project through to a meaningful conclusion and gone on to other worthy endeavours, should have met an untimely and tragic end doing what he loved best - restoring something that deserved preservation. Whilst working under a Gloster ‘Meteor’ jet fi ghter, the stands gave way and he sadly died as a result.

74 Chapter 5 Re-creation

At last, following 13 years of unremitting work and expenditure, in 1988 the dream was very close to fulfi lment when the sky fell in. Th e BR inspector’s report on the state of the boiler, following an examination during restoration, was found to be missing and, in any case, the goal posts had been moved regarding inspection procedures. In simple terms, although 71K was ready to run in theory, the paperwork wasn’t in place to allow it to happen. One can only begin to imagine how the Trust members must have felt, as though 13 years’ work had been for nothing, as if someone was having a good laugh at their expense: a George Sanders-type voice saying: “Oh yes, you’ve done a splendid job, but while you were busy we’ve changed the rules, old boy.” Well, alright, it wasn’t quite like that, but a lot of people knew what the Trust was aiming for and no-one bothered to keep them on course. Th is meant, amongst other things, that a perfectly sound boiler had to be gutted and retubed just because no-one was prepared to make a practical though exceptional decision in the name of common sense: thanks and noted. Th at’s not strength of character, that’s that well-known pedant Jobsworth bleating. I seem to remember there was an awful lot of brouhaha from certain members of the Steam Locomotive Owners Association at the time too: cries of “no exceptions” and the like. (Did I hear someone whispering about “glass houses” and “thin ice”?) Well, the air over the moral high ground has always been a bit thin for my preference – I sleep better at lesser altitudes, my slumber untroubled by nightmares about melting wings.

75 Martyn J. McGinty

Now, lest it be thought by anybody that my attitude to safety legislation lacks gravitas, let me state now – that is not the case. A steam locomotive boiler is, potentially, an extremely powerful bomb. Mismanagement and, particularly, lax maintenance, can be lethal. However, anyone who had responsibility for these matters up until the demise of regular steam haulage in 1967 would tell you that a rigid and pedantic adherence to the relevant strictures would have made for an unworkable railway system. A boiler inspector knew exactly how to interpret and apply the rules and, on occasion, would have to shop a locomotive before the schedule demanded just as, occasionally, time limits would be extended according to circumstances such as in areas with an excellent water supply or when a locomotive had been kept out of service for an out-of-course lengthy repair, for example. Th e development of locomotive boilers probably reached its zenith in the decade between 1925 and 1935 when competition and rivalry forced the development of faster and more powerful machines. Th e obvious way to get ‘more for less’ was to increase super-heating and boiler pressures: 250 p.s.i. became, by and large, the standard for express passenger locomotives. Although various designers ‘pushed at the boundaries’ occasionally, it was pretty much agreed that any signifi cant increase on that fi gure implied increased maintenance costs out of proportion with any gain that might be achieved - Hawksworth’s Counties were pressed to 280 p.s.i. , as were Bulleid’s Pacifi cs, but it is noted that when the latter were rebuilt the working pressure was reduced to 250 p.s.i. Th e safety of pressure vessels is an area of engineering which has commanded the severest stringency since it was realised how catastrophic structural failure could be. As a result the explosion of any boiler became mandatorily reportable to the Board of Trade by virtue of a Statutory Order issued in 1895. (Th is put an end to the shilly-shallying of the preceding half-century made possible by ineff ective policing of weak legislation.) Since then, inspection and maintenance techniques have been consistently improved. A typical boiler certifi cation when new would involve a hydraulic pressure test which would demonstrate the boiler’s ability to sustain a pressure over twice that which was intended in everyday use. Th is test was applied to every boiler without exception and was conducted with water rather than steam because water is, in practical terms, incompressible. Th erefore, should a structural failure occur, the result would be a fi zzle rather than a bang!

76 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

Th e thing that I, and many others, fi nd puzzling is that, with such rigorous testing procedures being adhered to, the relevant safety bodies will not permit the use of newly constructed riveted boilers although the maintenance and use of such existing boilers may continue. And so it is that the builders of replicas such as the A1, ‘Tornado’ have to accept all welded boiler assemblies, although it doesn’t get over the problem of stay fractures as the operators of ‘Tornado’ have discovered. By the bye, I am surprised that the production of all welded boilers didn’t achieve greater prominence in Britain. Th e practice was well understood in America and the unshakeable Bulleid was quite happy with the technique. At any rate, as a result of the improvements in the industry, vis à vis boilers in general, failures became far less common. Th e last boiler-barrel explosion was in 1921 at Buxton, Derbyshire, and as such was the last explosive decompression to pose a major threat to the public. As this came about through rather unusual circumstances, an explanation is not out of place. Th e labour situation in Crewe in the early 1920s was diffi cult: a signifi cant number of boilermakers had gone to Merseyside during the 1st World War and, because of a housing shortage in Crewe, had not returned. As a temporary respite, Crewe had to farm out some of its boiler work and as a result the boiler for Webb 4 cylinder compound 0-8-0 number 134 was repaired by Beardmore’s of Dalmuir and was fi tted with badly made safety valves. Unhappily, at 2.45 a.m. on the 11th November, this led to the complete destruction of the locomotive whose boiler was perfectly sound: the explosion at about 600 lb/sq.in. must have been colossal and it tore the engine to pieces, killing the crew instantly. Other underlying contributory factors were (a) the failure of fi tting staff properly to respond to drivers’ complaints that the pressure gauge went “all the way round” and (b) the fact that L.N.W.R. dépôts were not equipped with certifi ed gauges and fi ttings to carry out comparative tests. Circumstantial evidence should have told people something: with the boiler pressure rising to over 300 lbs on occasion, that engine must have gone like a rocket! Such events since then have been restricted to the fi rebox and can be attributed largely to mismanagement of the locomotive with some unfortunate examples of poor examination leading to structural failure in other rarer cases. However, the risks to the crew are always potentially fatal, and survivors of these incidents may be considered fortunate in the extreme. Now, mismanagement of a locomotive boiler comes in many guises: some expensive (even if not actually disabling the locomotive) and some

77 Martyn J. McGinty potentially (and occasionally, positively) dangerous. Good management depends not only on the crew but on the whole array of people involved in examination, maintenance and steam-raising. Assuming that the ‘army’ discharges its duties properly, then the locomotive is made available to the crew. Th e fi rst thing a fi reman should do on mounting the footplate is not as one young hopeful said to the examining inspector “put my lunch bag away”. Indeed not, his fi rst duty is to examine the water gauge(s) and confi rm its/their operation by using the test cocks. Th e importance of the correct operation of this equipment cannot be overstressed – it is absolutely vital. Th is is because if the water level in the boiler cannot be accurately assessed, it may fall so far as to expose the crown sheet of the fi rebox to the full eff ect of the heat from the fi re. Th e metal will then soften and collapse under steam pressure, resulting in the explosive decompression of the boiler so feared by the wary. Th erefore, if a situation arises where the water level cannot be maintained (e.g. failure of both injectors) the heat source must be disabled either by smothering the fi re or by removing the fi re bodily from the fi rebox. Various safeguards have been successfully introduced over time, including fusible plugs in the crown sheet and, later on, herringbone ‘tell-tales’ behind the water gauges to show, by refraction, the diff erence between water and air in the indicator tube: these were introduced by the L.N.E.R. and it is a notable fact that that railway company never suff ered a boiler explosion. However, fate is ever ready to produce a set of circumstances which will conspire even against the vigilant. Such a situation ensnared Willy Hilton of Ardrossan shed in 1942. His driver, one Andy Mitchell, was an unusual sort: he was terrifi ed of authority and could not stand the thought of what he saw as failure. Th is, unfortunately, made him impatient with cautious people and especially with inexperienced fi remen like Willy, who might jeopardize his reputation for getting the job done to time irrespective of problems. It also trapped him into making a hasty and regrettable decision. Young Willy, on the day in question, looked at the water gauges on the 4F with dismay: chalky water in both and neither would respond properly on test. He asked Mitchell’s opinion, which was hurried and ill-considered: “Th is one’s a bit fouled but the one your side seems to be alright.” Above all he was not prepared to reject the locomotive and, with a poisonous blend of ridicule and contempt, bullied Willy into acceptance of an invidious situation. Th e upshot was that the water level dropped while the right

78 Th e Life and Times of a Duke hand gauge remained constant. Th e crown plate became exposed and heated, the fusible plugs melted and the fi re had to be thrown out. Young Willy and the foolish Mitchell were both issued with written notifi cation of their misdoings (‘crime sheets’ in the vernacular of the time) and Willy had to take it to appeal or accept a blemished record for the rest of his career. (Fortunately, a far-sighted and understanding superintendent saw Willy’s dilemma in its true light and his appeal was allowed.) Th e man Mitchell though was caught in a trap of his own making: he could not appeal because he had declined the opportunity to fail the locomotive as unfi t for duty. (Th ere are occasions when lack of moral fi bre brings its own unique and peculiarly apt punishment.) Mercifully, in modern times, simply because inspection and repairs were so eff ective, catastrophes were rare, but one event demonstrates very dramatically the awesome potential of steam. Th e experimental 4-6-0 locomotive Fury, built during Fowler’s time, was, one might think, with steam at over 1000 lbs/sq. inch, possibly an accident waiting to happen, but nevertheless was designed and built to the best of the abilities of all concerned at the North British Locomotive Company (N.B.L.C.). Regretfully though, on a trial run near Carstairs, one of the high pressure tubes burst, releasing a jet of steam at supersonic speed into the fi rebox, ejecting a large part of the contents through the open fi rehole onto the footplate. Th e representative of the Superheater Company, Louis Schofi eld, was fatally injured and Fireman Blair, who leapt from the engine, suff ered multiple fractures. Th e L.M.S.R. Inspector, F. J. Pepper, was shocked and scalded, though not badly, and Driver Hall, though suff ering from shock, escaped injury and managed to halt the train. Th e locomotive was repaired and lingered until the arrival of Stanier, who judged the experiment a failure and had it rebuilt at Crewe in 1935 as the precursor of the rebuilt Royal Scots, albeit with a unique longer boiler which it retained for life as 46170 British Legion. On a lighter note, another incident involving heat and water springs to mind and it demonstrates, fairly harmlessly, the danger of ignorance. Th e house adjoining ours to the South West has been home to a succession of students for decades, whose a ntics we have viewed variously with a musement, trepidation or, on occasion, annoyance. A while ago an attempt was made at starting a barbecue which resulted in oily and unctuous fumes (akin to those which are said to emanate from the Stygian Pit) circulating in a capricious breeze amongst the burden of the rotary washing line and, by way of the windows, the various rooms of our house. My wife was incensed

79 Martyn J. McGinty

(forgive the pun) and I enquired, mischievously, of one of the girls, whether she though starting a bonfi re on a beautiful summer’s afternoon was a good idea. “It’s not a bonfi re,” she sniff ed, “it’s a barbecue.” “Well I hope you’ll excuse my pardonable error” I replied and I set about sealing up our abode while my wife rescued the washing. Peace returned for twenty minutes or so. “Quick, come and look” called my wife from the kitchen. I ran to the window and could scarcely comprehend the view. Th e grass, which had died at knee-height, was now alight in several places and the students were running to and fro as if demented. “What the devil happened?” “Well,” my wife replied, “the barbecue went up in fl ames and one of them threw a large saucepan of water on it.” All was now obvious: the water had fl ashed into steam and caused the equivalent of a volcanic eruption, throwing blazing chops, sausages and glowing fuel all over the garden. Th e students were trying to put out the fi res and rescue their lunch. Miraculously no-one was even slightly hurt. I couldn’t help it! I know I shouldn’t have said anything but I couldn’t restrain myself! “Th ere you are,” I called out of the window, “I told you it was a bonfi re.” (As to the replies, well, I have often cautioned against conjecture but here it is the only alternative, dear reader, to the unprintable!) Th e moral to be drawn here from these two tales of woe would seem to be, steam can be a loyal and valuable servant when respected, but a dangerous enemy when abused. In retrospect though, it does seem a shame that a more consistent approach wasn’t forthcoming from the Railway Inspectorate with regard to 71000. It accepted the word of Timken’s engineer on the condition of the wheel bearings but rejected the opinion of its own inspectors on the boiler: sounds a bit like the antics of some of our politicians. Perhaps I’m being very old-fashioned - or was it just par for the course?. In retrospect, the solution wasn’t a complete waste: the superheater elements were ex- Barry and the fl ues had been re-ended twice. (Th ings have changed , it seems. I have just fi nished an absorbing little book published in 1987 by David & Charles, entitled “Steaming Spires” by Richard Tolley, (an ex-footplate man from Oxford). In it he describes, on pp. 50/58, how Swindon used to extend the life (and length!) of their boiler tubes. Th is was permitted twice from new, it seems; they were scoured inside and out and the damaged ends removed whereupon they were mounted in a machine and stretched by four to fi ve inches. Reconditioned

80 Th e Life and Times of a Duke boilers were, of course, subjected to the same stringent tests as any other.) But I digress; In 1988 the team had made so much progress in identifying the faults with the Duke as built: the ashpan, the concrete arch, and most particularly the draughting arrangements. To have come so far only to be pipped at the post? What a sickening dilemma. Having weighed up all the pros and cons, the resolute Mr Shannon decided if a 7 year ticket was the bottom line, then it was all or nothing. David Wright had given his all to the fi rst boiler: preparing to do it all again gave him ‘pause for thought’. I can imagine him almost closing his eyes, wincing at the enormity of what had to be done, as he approached the fi rst tube, but fi nding the pain diminishing with each successive cut. A pressing problem reared its ugly head yet again in the matter of funding. Th e Trust soon raised £9,000 and another £6,000 was accumulated from other sources, including some generous donations. For all that, the work still left them £10,000 in the red for a long time. 28th February, 1989 Inspection day: British Rail’s boiler man, Sam Foster, declared the boiler and fi rebox immaculate. Th eir traction man, Colin Wood, gave the ‘mechanicals’ a clean bill of health, and a roller bearing inspection was organised with Timken’s and the help of the Great Western Society using the Didcot wheel drop. Th e only problem evident, following sampling of the lubricant from all bearings, was pollution by ingress of water through defective seals on the trailing truck. Timken’s were extremely helpful in the loan of special equipment and the assistance of one of their technicians, Paul Eason. Th e supply of new boiler components was slow and spasmodic. While waiting for delivery of the fi nal batch of bits (nearly seven months – yes, really!) the team got on with refurbishing the paintwork. Spraying was opted for and with the advice of Geoff Clare, technical consultant for Akzo Coatings, a fi rst class result was obtained. A crowing glory was the fi tting, at about this time, of brass cab-side numerals and a brass smoke-box number plate. It seems to me to be a great pity that the technique of stylish embellishment has, to a large extent, been lost. Everywhere one fi nds the depressing substitution of plastics for metal, and the all-pervasive and artless streamlining and general dumbing-down of external appearances. I realise that, in the fi eld of architecture, for example, one can’t retain all buildings resembling St Pancras Station (and better not, probably) but to leave nothing remotely like that at all would be woeful. Incidentally, it is wonderful too to visit a preserved pumping station and admire the

81 Martyn J. McGinty abundance of brass, copper and purely decorative castings and fi nials. Th ese were tangible and necessary demonstrations of pride in workmanship and would have engendered an appropriate attitude in the workforce – qualities that have been obliterated by ruthless ‘bottom line’ accounting, statistics and utter greed. I ask you, in the name of all things worthwhile one simple question - if you want to know the time, which would you rather look at: a hand-crafted gold hunter or the LCD read-out on a mobile phone? To return to our theme, with the re-tube fi nally complete, the fi nal inspection by British Rail took place on 4th October, 1989 – alas too late that season for any commercial running: a bit of a blow now that they had just spent a total of £25,000 in addition to the £90,000 originally spent “just putting steam back in the cylinders,” to quote Peter King. Th e fi nal bridge to be crossed was the test run booked for 14th March, 1990. With 507 tons ‘on the hook’ the 10.20 Derby to Sheffi eld load test (5Z31) the Duke made mincemeat of the job. Th e improvement in performance was so dramatic that the injectors could not keep up with steam production, which was well in excess of anything achieved under test at Swindon in the mid ’50s. Th e results of this test run gave Gary Shannon, the Trust’s C.M.E. reason for contemplation. BR Mechanical Inspector Colin Wood recommended a temporary 400 ton load limit until larger injector cones could be fi tted, but the C.M.E. was confi dent that could be dealt with before 1st July, the fi rst revenue earning day of 1990. Th ere were a few more bits of fi ne tuning to carry out in conjunction with L. T. Daniels too. Th e relative proportions of the Kylchap exhaust components were not yet optimal, and he felt there was still room for improvement in the Caprotti gear itself. Surely this must have been the turning point the members of the Trust had yearned for? After nearly 15 years of unrelenting endeavour and dedication, and then one set-back after another for a further two years (which alone would have sapped the determination of lesser human beings) they had at last surmounted the fi nal hurdle. I like to think I would have felt absolutely ecstatic, but actually, after so long a struggle, made worse by undeserved complications, I’m not so sure. More probably, mentally and physically exhausted, and very relieved. I have a shrewd feeling that a new mother, who has just endured a particularly diffi cult but ultimately successful labour, might be able to give an adequate description.

82 Chapter 6 Th e Improvements

Th ere has been no other restoration project which has incorporated so many radical improvements (with the special exception of BB 4-6-2 no. 34081, 92 Squadron, which was rebuilt from ‘air-smoothed’ to B.R. type by the restorers). Th ese changes come under three headings: 1. the correction of faults which were departures from the original concepts and intentions of the designer; b. the rectifi cation of problems inherent in the locomotive as designed; c. the addition of various components and equipment to comply with contemporary working conditions and practices and the tuning of the valve gear.

As the faults to be corrected were not obvious, they were evidently deep-seated – even fundamental. On refl ection, it is a wonder that the locomotive was able to maintain working schedules at all. Th e fact that it did is a tribute to the crews who coped with the problems and, to a lesser extent, possibly the basic soundness of the design. Th e fi rst fault to be noticed was the inadequacy of the ash-pan dampers – this was apparent even to the shed-master at Crewe in BR days, and he authorised the cutting of extra holes in this component to increase the air fl ow (with only limited success, it must be said because, as became obvious, the fundamental problem lay elsewhere). When the remains of the Duke were taken to Loughborough the fi rst task was the complete strip down of the hulk. As a result of this it became

83 Martyn J. McGinty apparent that the ash-pan was only fi t for scrap. Chris Ball, who was team leader at that time, used his fabricating skills to create a new one, using the old one as a pattern. Straightforward, one might think, but when the BR drawings turned up it was immediately apparent that whoever made the original ash-pan had blundered: the damper apertures were far too small – hence the holes cut in the sides by Crewe shed staff in the ’50s. Th e necessary alterations, although time consuming, were relatively simple, with the ash-pan on the fl oor: had the error been discovered later, after assembly, one can imagine how the team would have felt. Although this was a bonus, the considered opinion of the team was that there must be more to the steaming problem than just the ash-pan, and so the best minds were brought to bear on the problem, including Tom Daniels, A.L.E.’s chief designer. From the very beginning he had been dismayed by the blast pipe and chimney design. Th is led to the second major discovery: both the blast pipe and the chimney were of completely unsuitable dimensions. Tom Daniels was able to off er valuable advice and, on his suggestion, a Kylchap exhaust was opted for, the dimensions being worked out from the system on A2 Blue Peter. Th e blast pipe and nozzles were produced by Messrs. Fletcher and Stewart of Derby, and the chimney by K. C. Patterns of Peterborough. (Th e cowls were made ‘in house’.) To everybody’s immense relief these components later showed themselves to be perfectly acceptable. Th e third departure from design specifi cation took a little longer to come to light and in fact, had the BR drawing for the fi rebox concrete arch not come to light, might have remained an enigma. Because there was no drawing to help the team initially, the fi rst arch installed by them was to ‘rule of thumb’ and in fact the locomotive steamed well with it. Come 1991 it was life expired and a new one was proposed, but this time per drawing. Th e team ran into trouble straight away. Basically they couldn’t make it fi t and the new season was hard upon them, so they were forced to compromise. Unfortunately their eff orts, although not a disaster, were not as good as ‘thumb’s rule’ Steaming had become a more sensitive matter than before, though not a big problem, so the team decided to live with it until the time could be spared to get to the bottom of it. Th is opportunity arose at the end of 1992. On consulting the drawing it was obvious why the forced compromise was unsatisfactory, but what was the stumbling block? All was revealed when the arch was demolished and an examination made of the supporting studs in the fi rebox walls – Eureka!! Someone had blundered: the studs were set too low and, in any

84 Th e Life and Times of a Duke case, at the wrong angle. Once the problem was understood the cure was plain sailing: redesigned formers to accommodate the studs and the correct siting of the arch resolved the issue. At last the fi nal hurdle had been surmounted. One can’t help wondering, in view of the mistakes made in building the Duke, if these sorts of errors were so very unusual. (One so often hears of the ‘black sheep’ of a class that would never perform properly, while its class mates were good every- day work-horses. Drivers, having complained and got nowhere, would then resort to the ‘razor’ - if they thought it appropriate - and damn the consequences!) Th e ‘razor,’ also known as a ‘jimmy,’ was a conveniently sized and shaped piece of metal inserted in the blastpipe orifi ce with a view to sharpening the blast, thereby increasing the draw on the fi re and generating steam more readily. (Th is of course would not have been an answer in the case of the Duke, as the draw on the fi re at high output was already noticeably greater than necessary.) Th e best ones would be custom made by one of the fi tters and normally resembled a g-clamp (to fasten on to the top of the blastpipe) with a bar of triangular cross section between, nicely fi nished off with a safety chain to prevent disaster. Other more rudimentary examples were often used, but it was essential that nothing was allowed to fall down the blastpipe itself and wreck the valve gear. Th ere were few faults inherent in the locomotive as designed. Th e positioning of water valves in front of the fi reman’s seat was questionable, and the coal-pusher control was well known as a “ knuckle- crusher“. Th e reverser was the standard BR ‘bacon slicer’ with the cumbersome locking device whereas A.L.E.’s design was ergonomically a far more satisfactory proposition. But one has to stand back and take the overall view. A restoration project should be just that, and not a ‘customising’ exercise. Some projects have raised my eyebrows a little: the single chimney on 6023 I fi nd rather anomalous, though I wouldn’t say more than that. Th e recreation of one of the original air-smoothed Bulleid light pacifi cs in BR modifi ed form left me a little shaken – but a remarkable and perfectly acceptable achievement nonetheless. Th e team responsible is to be congratulated on a magnifi cent accomplishment. With regard to the Duke, there have been other refi nements which will be mentioned in due course but, apart from the coal pusher which was a standard fi tting on some of the tenders used by BR, the other extras have

85 Martyn J. McGinty been determined necessary by virtue of the operating conditions imposed on the locomotive following its restoration and approval for main line running. Th e coal pusher is, in any case, a necessary replacement. Th e tender which was eventually mated with the Duke was not the original and lacked this equipment. When it became obvious that Health and Safety requirements would not allow the fi reman to enter the tender to pull down the coal which remained out of reach toward the end of a journey, the coal pusher became a necessity rather than just a refi nement. A collaboration between Riley and Son Ltd and Cerdic Foundries of Chard (using the components from the pusher from 46229 Duchess of Hamilton as a guide) resulted in the timely production of this essential fi tting for the Duke. Th ere have been a couple of less obvious refi nements which deserve a mention and which properly come under the heading of fi ne tuning. Firstly, it was considered that at high power outputs there was insuffi cient air reaching the back of the grate leading to damage caused by excessive heat. As a result two extra dampers were added when the ash-pan was again renewed. Th e second was further ‘tweaking’ of the valve gear by way of altered cam profi les to give a later release of exhaust steam, resulting in improved cylinder effi ciency. Th e other changes and additions are more obvious and imposed by circumstances. Firstly, an increase in water capacity in the tender by 375 gallons: this raised the level of the fi ller cap to a degree which necessitated the fi tting of a second ladder to allow safe access from both sides. (Th e water problem is still in need of a solution – probably in the shape of a second water carrier.) Th e need for compatibility with air-braked stock compelled the fi tting of a compressor. Th is was obtained from Poland, overhauled by the team and inconspicuously fi tted so as to preserve the uncluttered appearance of the locomotive which, of course, retains the ability to operate vacuum- braked vehicles. Other minor additions to achieve compliance with the latest safety requirements include a generator, the powerful headlight, a telephone and intercom and of course the dreaded black box. All in all a locomotive totally fi tted for use in the 21st century and beyond. However, let it not be forgotten that, wonderful as this engine is, it is still a coal-fi red steam locomotive, and that means hard work and constant vigilance from the crew and support team. Preparation ought to

86 Th e Life and Times of a Duke be straightforward but every trip with a preserved engine is a one-off and therefore preparation should be meticulous: better to turn up 2 hours early and check everything that ought to be taken as read. With the Duke there are extras (cam-boxes and gearbox oil levels) as well as the other modern requirements like R.T., headlight, etc, etc, and compensations (grease fi lled roller bearings and simplifi ed valve gear). Th e regular items like running gear (corks/oil levels) will be checked together with the observation of purely mechanical items like brake gear components, hoses, couplings, wheel tyres and the usual tests of water gauges, lubricators and injectors. Tools, fi re-irons, detonators and lamps are a ‘given.’ If there were any faults at the end of the last trip out, they will have been noted and rectifi ed before today (one hopes) but it never hurts to check round thoroughly – gremlins are not called that for nothing. Probably the worst and most worrying aspect of preparation nowadays is the quality of coal and water. Water quality can be dealt with if one has a mind to: the Southern Region used the French approach of a tender- borne chemical treatment system (Traitement Integral Armande). Th is method was pre-empted by the fact that the S.R. had no water troughs. On other regions the water supply to the troughs was monitored and, where practical, made to conform to some standard of acceptability, while some dépôts had water treatment systems if they were in hard water areas. Bath (Green Park) was, to name but one, a place where the water quality was (and is) utterly atrocious from the point of view of steam locomotive operation, but world-famous for its supposed curative eff ects on the human body. Th e fact that the air quality is sometimes positively detrimental to health seems to be a blind spot with the physiological cognoscenti. One is tempted to believe that the famous ‘curative eff ect’ experienced was more a result of the improvement in the atmosphere regained when the patient reached his home environment. Th e supply of coal is now a far more troublesome subject than it was in the glory days of steam locomotive operation in the century between 1860 and 1960. In those days good steam coal from the Welsh valley mines, the ‘black diamonds’ (the Yorkshire hards), and good coal from the North-East were a part of the status quo. Nowadays we rely on imports, while untold quantities of good coal lie abandoned beneath our landscape. Th e quality of these imported coals often leaves much to be desired and this brings us to the other half of a locomotive’s daily care, disposal. When a steam locomotive has done a fair day’s work there is a price to be paid, especially when the fuel has

87 Martyn J. McGinty been coal rather than oil. We hope that the fi reman has had the benefi t of suffi cient experience, either personally or via his driver (when both of whom are required to be Railtrack staff if the locomotive has been out on the B.R. network) so as to run the fi re down towards the end of the trip. Th is will assist greatly in the job of disposal that falls to the support crew: if the engine arrives with a big fi re still burning, it’s a rotten wasteful job to throw it all out. Th e only worse scenario is when the crew have had to make do with poor coal and the fi re-bed is a mass of clinker – it may be possible to drop into the ash-pan and pull it all out, but if it’s glued to the fi re-bars then it has to be broken up and heaved out through the fi re-hole and the bars cleaned later. When everything has cooled down enough to allow entry into the fi re-box, an examination may be advisable to check the integrity of the grate components. Occasionally when an engine has been worked really hard with bad coal, the lack of air round the clinkered fi re-bars will have allowed the temperature to rise to the point where the grate begins to melt and collapse into the ash-pan. Major expense and a horrible repair job are the inevitable result of such an occurrence. By and large, though, the disposal procedure is rarely that onerous, consisting of inspection and noting of faults if any, and cleaning the fi re-box, ash-pan and smoke box. In post-World War II years these jobs were all made easier by enlightened management attitudes, which led to rocking grates and self-cleaning smoke boxes being the norm, rather than luxuries. Fully rocking grates, fi rst seen in the USA in 1905, were probably the biggest boon since the mechanism could be used to break up clinker during a journey as well as actually dropping the remains of the fi re into the ash-pan on disposal. In Great Britain experiments with rocking portions of grates were made in the mid-Victorian era by a fi rm called Bury Curtis and Kennedy and elsewhere by the engineer J. I. Curtis, but the principle never gained popularity until well into the 20th century. Th e somewhat agrestic simplicity of rooting about with fi re irons was the status quo until World War II when engineers began to accept that such practices were anachronistic, having seen the handsomely equipped locomotives from America. No doubt the pressure of wartime conditions and the need for quicker and easier disposal also played a part in their introduction. Servicing of older more primitive engines required strength and dexterity, since one had a choice: (a) remove a couple of fi re-bars and drop the remains of the fi re through the hole thus created and into the ash-pan (the giant tongs required for

88 Th e Life and Times of a Duke this were a challenge, if not a barrier, to most, and not for anyone with as much as a hint of a defeatist attitude, since the replacing of the bars afterwards was an equally energetic but far more delicate proposition. Anyone clumsy enough to drop one through into the ash-pan had a most unpleasant time of it.) (b) remove the clinker and anything else that had to come out (apart from the ash) through the fi re-hole. Th ere is one disadvantage of the rocking grate: fi re-bars occasionally break or even melt in service, and therefore must be replaced. With a simple grate of bars and carriers this is a relatively easy job, but with a rocking grate one has to wait until the components have cooled suffi ciently to allow dismantling to take place – no pain, no gain, apparently! Th e self-cleaning smokebox was also a great help but, as with all ‘newfangled’ devices needed a degree of intelligence and practicality to get the best out of it. One could not assume then, any more than now, that just because the smokebox door has S.C. on it that it never has to be opened. Th e ash will still build up, albeit more slowly, reducing the working volume of the smokebox and thus its ability to draw eff ectively on the fi re. Furthermore, the screens which direct and entrain the ash in the gas fl ow from the blast pipe need periodic examination and meticulous replacement if they are not to impede the proceedings inside the smokebox, perhaps even by falling across the blast pipe orifi ce. Post World War II professional opinion was divided on the subject of S.C. equipment. Some of the stubborn older drivers claimed that it hobbled a good engine and made for lazy fi remen, while in the drawing offi ce there were those who were irritated by having to fi gure out ways to accommodate the components in what was often an already cluttered smokebox. Th e fact is, the benefi ts outweighed what demerits there might have been; locomotives arriving after a bad run with half the smokebox door glowing from the char that had built up to the chimney petticoat became a rarity. Anyone who has had to clean a couple of hundredweights of char out of a smokebox in the dark with a capricious, gusty wind blowing will tell you whether S.C. kit is a good thing or not. Likewise the fi tting staff who, in addition to their normal labours, had to sort out a smokebox door so distorted by the excess heat that it would no longer maintain a vacuum, would have wished for a more widespread use of the improvement.

89 Chapter 7 A Retrospective

So after what must have felt like a lifetime the Duke was in gainful employment. Summer 1995 saw the Duke on the West Somerset Railway, a visit which was extended (to the great advantage of the W.S.R.) by reason of the hot dry spell which led to the cancellation of many mainline duties. Th is visit proved to be a great crowd-puller and revenue booster: ’phone lines were jammed with enquiries and the excitement of more than a few bordered on hysteria! October 2nd was a truly remarkable day for 71K. Th e locomotive, in the hands of Ray Hatton, established a record for Grayrigg and Shap banks, both in speed and power output, in competition with 60007 Sir Nigel Gresley and 46229 Duchess of Hamilton. Th e Duke tore over Shap summit at 51 m.p.h. and developed 2,749 e.d.h.p.. in the process. (And lest we should forget, this is the same Ray Hatton who vowed in the late ’50s that if he was ever rostered to fi re the Duke, he would report sick!) Th e magnifi cence of this achievement was marred in November 1996: Railtrack stamped its little foot again. When 71K’s main line ticket expired earlier in the year Resco Railways, one of Railtrack’s accredited steam locomotive examiners, granted a 2 year extension on the basis of known condition. In November Railtrack told Resco to cancel the Duke’s ticket or they would cancel Resco’s ticket. Goodness me, how very upright and principled. I do hope the person who was strong enough to issue such an ultimatum applies similarly rigid principles to his own conduct at all times without any hesitation……no matter, the dogs bark and the caravan moves on.

90 Th e Life and Times of a Duke

At any rate, this hurdle, like so many others, was overcome. Th e result is that the Duke has established a reputation as the most effi cient and powerful steam locomotive for its size in the world. Has there ever been anything comparable or even more effi cient? Undoubtedly yes and, were it not for the crass indiff erence and greed of a few French bureaucrats, we would have one to look at. Th at it was developed by Chapelon is to be expected: that it was not perpetuated or even multiplied is unforgivable. Th ough strictly outside the scope of this book (given its title) this machine, in my view, was so outstanding that at least a description of it, and its diff erences from the Duke, is not improper. It began life in France in 1932 as a request from the State Railway to its Material Studies Department for a 3 cylinder simple 4-8-2 to equal, in performance, Chapelon’s compounds (which he had developed since his appointment (12/01/25) to the Research and Development section of the Paris/Orleans Railway. For many unsurprising reasons 241.101 was a fl op - keen students should refer to the bibliography. It was laid aside in obscurity and all enquiries were met with the Gallic shrug. Plainly there was embarrassment that Chapelon’s methods were not understood or appreciated by those who should have known better. Apparently, attempts were made to improve it, during the course of which cylinder damage occurred. Th e Locomotive Study Division got involved – and ultimately Chapelon too – but various meetings of sundry committees eventually were stonewalled by the mighty Directorate of Rolling Stock and once again the locomotive was in limbo. Eventually, under the aegis of the S.N.C.F. (the French State railway), Chapelon’s proposals for the rebuilding were accepted but, with the advent of World War II, the project was stalled again and the rebuilding was not completed until 18/05/46. Here, a simple description of the locomotive (and its principle technical diff erences from the Duke) is appropriate. It was numbered 2421A and was, of course, of 4-8-4 wheel arrangement, having two outside L.P. cylinders of 27” bore x 29.9” stroke and one inside H.P. cylinder 23.6” x 28.3”; 6’4 ¾” driving wheels; grate area 54 sq.ft.; boiler pressure 292 lb/sq.in; adhesive weight 84 tons; total weight 148 tons. Th is description begs the question (for let us not forget the raison d’être of this book) why did he not make use of rotary poppet valve gear? Part of the answer is that he had considered and used poppet valve gear as early

91 Martyn J. McGinty as 1923 and evidently was not so impressed by the results as to apply the principle to the total exclusion of other possibilities. He had experimented with Caprotti, Lentz O.C. and Dabeg R.C. variants and had some success with Caprotti valve gear for simple expansion and Lentz for compound expansion. However, partly because, at that time these systems had not been suffi ciently refi ned and partly because none of these types of valve gear seemed to lend itself harmoniously to compounding, especially on the low pressure side, he went along with piston valves. Th ere was in addition the fact that his brief, even later on in Argentina, had always been improvement of existing designs, and so this undoubtedly compromised decisions on valve gear to a greater or lesser extent. And so when it came to his chef d’œvre, 242A1, he dispensed with the original Renaud poppet valves, replacing them with double admission Trick valves for the H.P. cylinder and Willoteaux valves for the L.P. cylinders with double admission and double exhaust. Having studied a photograph of 241.101, the drive for the three sets of Renaud poppet valves seems to be taken from the middle engine, which would have confl icted with Chapelon’s plans for compounding. Th e Renaud horizontal O.C. poppet valves were too small and were not continuously variable in any case (this being 1946) so would not have suited Chapelon’s requirements for 242.A1. Apart from the valve gear, the important technical diff erences from the Duke then were, obviously, the compound steam circuit, two thermic siphons, steam jacketing of the cylinders, a triple Kylchap exhaust and re- superheating of a proportion of the exhaust steam. (Th e interesting point here is that steam jackets had been known for more than 50 years: Sir John Aspinall had made eff ective use of them in 1894. Although they showed an advantage, they obviously only became really useful with the advent of compounding but apparently few designers understood the advantages of harnessing one to the other.) Th ese diff erences allowed 242A1 to develop 50% more power for about 30% more coal and 5% less water, comparing like for like (i.e. weights of coal/water per unit d.b.h.p.) Th e result was an instant and glorious success. Th e test results were astonishing – even embarrassing! At its best, on 12/09/52, the locomotive developed well over 4000 d.b.h.p., without superhuman demands on the fi reman or running short of steam, improving on the electric schedule by 16 minutes with a train 200 tons heavier, between Paris and le Mans. Th is

92 Th e Life and Times of a Duke meant that in 1952, when electric locomotives were being developed for the Paris – Lyons express service, there was an undignifi ed scramble back to the drawing board to increase the proposed horse-power from 3900 – 4900. Readers may be interested to learn that the offi cial reason for the end of steam (and the destruction of Chapelon’s masterpieces – there were after all many of them: 242A1 was simply the culmination of a life’s work of genius) was that there was a shortage of coking coal?! Although it was pointed out that steam locomotives do not burn coking coal, hypocrisy obscured the truth and the personal advantages accruing to the greedy and powerful few suppressed the commonsense apparent to the silenced majority. As for the French National Railway Museum at Mulhouse, the exhibits tell more by omissions than by inclusions. No examples of classes 240P or 141P or, for that matter, 242A1 itself are on view because they were all cut up despite, or even because of, being evidence of the genius of Chapelon. (But in their indecent haste to destroy the memory of Chapelon - which is, in any case, indestructible - they overlooked the fact that his name will be remembered when theirs have been long forgotten, as indeed they should be.) Th e jealousy and resentment of ex-P.L.M. and ex-Etat Railways functionaries sealed the fate of these machines. A single example of one of his ex-P.O./Nord Super-Pacifi cs is preserved, due in great part to the enlightened attitude of the P.O. One other example of his work remains (albeit in private hands) and has occasionally worked on the main line. Th is is one of the Etat type (comparable in dimensions with the P.O. 3500 class) of the 231C series. It is curious and worrying to refl ect on this blinkered attitude of those with the power to preserve yet the will to destroy. Consider a small handful of examples closer to home: MacMillan, Marples and the Euston Arch; the splenetic destruction of some of Gresley’s work by the reprehensible Th omson; the egregious and wholesale destruction of many, many fi ne locomotives, some nearly new, to make way for an ill-conceived and hastily built fl eet of diesels, and, particularly, the orgy of vandalism indulged in by the government responsible for the Beeching cuts. (Our wiser continental neighbours permit the mothballing of parts of their railway infrastructure but not removal and destruction.) One may also consider the appalling gaps in the National collection, though I suppose this is a debatable and potentially divisive issue: in any case, there are always the private collections to take into account, and more power to the owners, not to mention the volunteer labour and donors.

93 Martyn J. McGinty

I suppose, on refl ection, this is one of our more endearing national traits, this clubbing together to do things voluntarily. Where else in the world can you fi nd an organisation like the RNLI? Is this why we resent the ‘Nanny State’ and the stifl ing Health and Safety legislation – do these things off end our sense of individuality and free choice? From my point of view, yes, certainly. When legislation starts to replace common sense, then the death of democracy is rarely far behind. However, desecration or no, back in 1952 Chapelon’s fame spread then to South America, where intended orders for diesel electrics in Brazil were dropped in favour of steam: later, after a visit from André Chapelon a large rebuilding programme commenced in Argentina under his direction, with the keen collaboration of L. D. la Porta. Th is included a class of 75 4-8-0s which then showed a 40% overall improvement at 15% less cost than that of a heavy general overhaul for a return of 30% decrease in fuel consumption.) Now, this comparison between Chapelon and Riddles needs pulling into perspective. For a start, Chapelon’s (largely) self-imposed brief was to produce, within the existing constraints of the system, a locomotive so effi cient, powerful and reliable that any fi nancial arguments pro diesel/ electric would be futile – and he succeeded! So what, ultimately, defeated him? Put simply, electric power propagandists with vested interests and twisted statistics: yet again one detects the pungent scent of oxen. On the other hand, Riddles’ brief was very diff erent. Apart from the similar maximum permitted axle weight, the loading gauge was more constricted, his authority to build was pretty much conditional on a like- for-like replacement for 46202, and standardisation was an over-ruling consideration. Within such claustrophobic limitations he did remarkably and splendidly well. With a freer hand who knows what might have been accomplished? As the Duke’s image can be seen as being in direct descent from the Britannias, there may be some satisfaction to be derived from a discussion of the more serious problems known to have developed in the 7Fs, and to ask whether any of them pose a threat to the mechanical integrity of 71000. Th e fi rst to raise its ugly head was valve/piston failure. Th is was soon attributed to water carried over from the boiler and the cure was a redesign of the dome and steam collector, together with the abandonment of the centrifugal steam dryer. Th is modifi cation was put in hand immediately

94 Th e Life and Times of a Duke following the fi rst failure with 70000 in 1951, when six weeks old and therefore must have been incorporated into the specifi cation for the Duke’s boiler come 1954. Th e second serious problem was the movement of driving wheels on the axles. Th is became apparent in 1951 and a rethink on hollow axles (a weight-saving measure) followed with redesigned coupling rods and a new set of fi nely detailed instructions for assembly. Th ese were retrospectively applied to existing locomotives and applied as standard from there onward. Regrettably, as the engines grew older the problem recurred, although the reason and cure are not known. Suffi ce it to say that in the case of the Duke, (a) the modifi ed assembly procedures and stronger coupling rods will have been incorporated; (b) the more even application of power (due to the use of three cylinders instead of two) and the absence of many heavy valve-gear components must be reckoned benefi cial; (c) the potential problem did not evince itself either in its B.R. days, or since, despite its fully loaded test run and a sound thrashing on the ‘long drag’. It is reasonable to conclude, then, that this is a ‘no-worry’ issue. Th e third major snag was the engine-tender draw-gear. Th e original design was copied from the L.N.E.R. and caused considerable ‘hunting’ when applied to a powerful two-cylinder locomotive (to which it was not suited). Th en when palliative measures were applied, in the form of tightening the draw-gear, fractures resulted with the terrifying result that engines were separated from their tenders as there were no safety chains. Th e whole mess was sorted out by resorting to the L.M.S. design and an insistence on the fi tting of safety chains which, in any case, had been budgeted for from new, though not fi tted until November 1956 under Mod. R5900 (safety links) for less than £18 per locomotive. Dragging feet resulted in another break-away with 70014 on 19/06/58 (no pun intended!) However, to get back on course, the Duke is a three cylinder locomotive built in 1954 with the design modifi cations and can therefore be accepted as immune to these problems, especially in view of the complete lack of symptoms. Four: lubrication problems with the pistons and valves were largely due to the lack of education of footplate staff – a large proportion of whom failed to understand and apply the regulator-actuated oil feed. Conversion to cylinder cock actuation was put in hand but there was also, apparently, a failure to understand the system of dimensions and availability of vital parts such as piston and valve head rings. One wonders what on earth

95 Martyn J. McGinty was going on – at any rate the cure was eff ected by early examination and replacement. I sincerely doubt that such inadequacies apply to the team maintaining the Duke today. Fifth: Th e last two serious recurrent defects were frame cracking and loose slide-bar mountings which, on examination, were shown to have a parent cause: fl exing of the mainframes between the cylinders and the fi rst axle. Th is was shown to be alleviated by the presence of a third cylinder which braced the frames and so the problem did not arise with 71000. Th ere were other problems, but of a less important nature, although the derailment of 70026 at Milton on 20/11/55 was partly ascribed to impaired vision occasioned by the handrail as originally fi tted to the smoke defl ectors. Th is led to the most obvious modifi cation from the point of view of the casual observer, viz. the replacement of the handrail by various handholds: brass trimmed slots on the W.R. (predictable) and recesses with crossbars and short horizontal stanchions elsewhere. Th e Duke remained aloof from such trivia. (Th ose interested in the Milton crash may wish to refer to the offi cial investigation and report which also laid heavy emphasis on the necessity to read and remember the content of daily notices when booking on, and the danger of automatically and habitually cancelling the warning of the A.W.S. equipment. Th e driver concerned was seemingly more consumed by pique than remorse, remarking bitterly, “we’d have been alright if we’d had a Castle,” apparently implying that the brakes would have been applied automatically and saved him from the consequences of his failings, namely the responsibility for the loss of eleven lives. It seems to me that this was an early indication of the conception of the ‘culture of blame’ under which we now suff er and for which we all pay a heavy price. I have no doubt that one of the fi rst questions the defence counsel would have asked the driver was “is there anything at all that might have impaired your judgement on this occasion?” And so the handrail was clutched by a man fast falling from grace and, fi nally, from credibility. Th is, unhappily, is what leads to the sort of nonsense we saw a while ago when the driver of a steam-hauled special over-ran a signal by a few yards. He immediately, and honestly, admitted his total responsibility. Unfortunately for him, and all the passengers on the train, who had paid substantial fares for this prestige excursion, a hawk-eyed pedant, and admirer of the second son of Judah, saw fi t to impound the locomotive for a full examination – just in case the driver should claim later that the

96 Th e Life and Times of a Duke brake was below par. End of steam excursion for several hundred miserable people with no means of redress. Did this sort of juvenile fastidiousness make Britain great? No, but it is what makes the teeth of true Britons grate. And so to April 1997: an auspicious time for the 71000 Trust. Th e National Heritage Memorial Fund awarded the Trust £233,800 for rebuilding and updating the locomotive and to further development work on the valve gear which was shelved 35 years before. Almost half the money would fund a heavy general overhaul. (Th is would be undertaken by Ian Riley Engineering at the East Lancs. Railway.) Other work to be put in hand would be the fi tting of air-braking equipment and ancillaries (£28.000) and the manufacture and fi tting of a coal pusher (£15,500). Redesigned exhaust cams for the valve-gear, a new smoke box and a modifi ed ash-pan to aid disposal would take care of a large amount of the balance, while overhaul and refurbishment of the support coach would use up the remainder. What an immensely satisfying feeling, after 24 years of scrimping, saving, begging and making do and mending whenever possible. Th e locomotive was at last fi t for the purposes of the team who had given so much for so long.

97 Epilogue

What of the future? Well, of course, that is an unanswerable question in absolute terms. 1997 saw a substantial grant from the National Heritage Memorial Fund and, quite rightly, interest in the locomotive seems unabating: 71K is the most effi cient locomotive ever built in this country and probably qualifi es for world beating status. Certainly André Chapelon’s machines were excellent but in the main they were (with one exception, 2421A) more fragile and demanded devoted attention from their crews during their everyday work to keep them running effi ciently. Th is is not to denigrate M. Chapelon or his achievements – his hands, and the purse strings of his employers, were tied. At the time all he was able to do was improve the existing locomotive stock, and that he did: he transformed these engines from average workhorses to fast, powerful machines par excellence at a comparatively small cost. But of course, as with new wine in old bottles, there was a price to pay, fortunately not a high one. Th e footplate men were all well trained mechanics – that was the system. As long as one went round the engine at every stop and took any necessary corrective measures, all was well. Without doubt, Riddles drew heavily on the lessons he learned from his observations of Chapelon and his methods, but his genius lay in knowing what to leave out (for the sake of strength and simplicity), what to change for the sake of effi ciency, and what to improve at minimal cost for the welfare of the footplate staff . If Derby had stuck to their brief, it wouldn’t have been necessary for a small group of persistent, gifted, amateurs with Tom Daniels, the man whose advice had been ignored in the fi rst place, to show them how to

98 Th e Life and Times of a Duke do the job without, morebetoken, the staff , skills and facilities of two of the biggest locomotive factories in Britain. I don’t know if any of the perpetrators of the farce are still with us, but I hope they would have the grace to blush to the soles of their undersized boots. I have wondered long and often about the fact that a potential world- beater like Th e Duke could have gone on for six years in service with a fundamental fault without something being done to correct it. Someone must have been aware of the nature of the problem: Riddles knew, but he had retired; Harrison probably knew and George Fisher too. I wouldn’t mind betting that Crewe’s Caprotti man, Ken Williams had a pretty good idea but, sadly he is no longer with us to ask. Tom Daniels knew, of course, but he was powerless to do anything. I asked Keith Collier, a former Crewe man of skill and wisdom, and a founder member of the restoration team, for his opinion. In his view he saw the main sticking point as human nature: the acrid scent of dieselisation was in the wind and Crewe wasn’t too bothered so indiff erence had set in (and anyway, 71K was Derby’s bastard child out of Swindon - let them nurse it!). Well, maybe: that’s perfectly plausible and yet………I just had this nagging uncertainty - something just didn’t feel right so I decided to dig a bit. I was sure somebody had actually been “putting a spanner in the works”. Such a person would have to have had the opportunity, the ability and position and - above all - the motive. After a chance remark from Keith later on, concerning a rumour that went round Crewe at one time about the possibility of Th e Duke going to “Top Shed” (King’s Cross), I remembered something. P.N. Townend, shed master at 34A (King’s Cross), had a monumental struggle with the C.M.E. of the day about having all of his beloved A4s fi tted with the Kylchap exhaust. He was frustrated at every turn: the C.M.E. referred all queries to Swindon (of all places!) and Townend even received a query from offi cialdom (B.R.B.) asking “As they’d heard the A4s wouldn’t steam properly with the Kylchap exhaust, would he like their removal authorised?” Townend was far from amused and when he was also informed that, in any case, the fi tting of this type of exhaust would require a modifi ed middle-cylinder casting, his patience ran out. Over the next several weeks, with his head fi tter, he conducted his own investigation. He was able to show that retro-fi tting a Kylchap exhaust was a comparatively simple

99 Martyn J. McGinty job and, by weighing coal on and off over a period, he demonstrated an economy of 6 - 7lbs. of coal per mile. With this evidence he sidestepped the C.M.E. and had the work authorised by the General Manager on the grounds of economy. At £200 per locomotive, the work paid for itself in a year and transformed the engines to boot. (As a result, all the A3s were similarly converted at a cost of £153 each plus the fi tting of smoke- defl ctors made necessary by the softened blast, “Top Shed” assisting with the additional work). So I reasoned, this C.M.E. was “anti-Kylchap” - but why? I looked at the history: this man had played ‘second-fi ddle’ to Riddles for decades and I’m sure Riddles’ fl amboyant, ‘gung-ho’ manner rankled with him. He disagreed with Riddles on numerous fundamental issues such as locomotive livery, the form the modernisation plan should take, and the 9F - which, he argued, should have been a 2-8-2. Furthermore he was an ex-Derby man and Riddles was voluble in his contempt for ‘all things Derby’. When Riddles fi nally resigned in 1956 this man at last achieved what I suspect he had always considered to be his divine right. Faced with the overwhelming success of the 9F, the thought of perfecting 71K and adding even more to Riddles’ kudos would have been the last straw. I suspect that he scotched the idea of the Duke going to 34A knowing full well that Townend would get involved and seeing the humiliation that would probably result - motive enough, one might think. And this man’s name? Well the Chief Mechanical Engineer at the time was Roland Bond whose seemingly urbane exterior concealed an adamantine temperament. It is of course only my opinion but put together, all these factors (I believe) led to the failure to carry out relatively simple remedial work on £45,000 worth of machinery and was, at best, culpable neglect - or, as I see it, wilful obstruction. On November 25th, 2006, I went out to watch the Duke run through Bath at the head of a charter from Victoria. As the tail lamp gradually disappeared from view, I refl ected that there was no way for any self-made nation to have progressed from sailing ships and barges to cars, lorries and, heaven forbid, planes, without going through the steam phase – that’s the bit that gets everything heavy moving fast enough for the necessarily massive changes to take place on a viable timescale. If, for nothing other than simply to be able to see it in action as it was, that is more than suffi cient reason to maintain a realistic working steam presence in the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution. It is said a picture speaks a thousand words: I say, seeing the Duke of Gloucester hard at work

100 Th e Life and Times of a Duke means more to anybody with any kind of imagination than I could ever put into mere print. Long live the Duke!

101 Bibliography

E. L. Ahrons: Th e British Steam Railway Locomotive, 1969 Imp., Ian Allan. R. Atthill: Th e Somerset & Dorset Railway, 1985 Edn., David & Charles. A. Baker & G. Morrison: Crewe Sheds, 1988, Ian Allan. D. Beckett: Brunel’s Britain, 1988 Edn., David & Charles. R. P. Bradley: Giants of Steam (the N.B.L.C.) 1995, O.P.C. F. A. S. Brown: Gresley, 1962 Edn., Ian Allan. J. Chacksfi eld: Collett, a competent successor, 2002, Oakwood Press. A.Chapelon: La locomotif a vapeur. (Eng. Trans. Carpenter. Pub.2000. Camden Miniature steam services.) J. F. Clay: Th e Stanier black 5s, 1972, Ian Allan. A. F. Cook: Raising Steam on the Midland, 1999, R.C.T.S. E. S. Cox: B.R. Standard Steam Locomotives, 1966, Ian Allan. R.H.N. Hardy: Steam in the blood, 1971, Ian Allan. B. Haresnape: Ivatt & Riddles Locomotives, 1997 Edn., Booklaw. Royal Scots of the L.M.S., 1970, Ian Allan (Compilation). Ed.: D. Doherty. D. W. Harvey: Bill Harvey’s 60 Years in Steam, 1986, David & Charles. C.H. Hewison: Locomotive Boiler Explosions, 1983, David & Charles. M. F. Higson: London Midland Fireman, 1972, Ian Allan. W. S. Hilton: Th e Plug Dropper, 1985, Trade Press. Hodgson & Williams (Rev. C. S. Lake) Locomotive Management (7th Edn.) 1939, St.Margaret’s Technical Press. P. King: 71000 Duke of Gloucester – the Impossible Dream, Pt. 1, 1987, Ian Allan. and Pt. 2, Th e 71000 Trust. Harry Knox: Steam Days at Haymarket, 2007, Irwell Press. C. S. Lake & A. Reidinger: Locomotive Valves & Valve Gears, Percival Marshall & Co., Ltd. (Late 1940s, date uncertain – not in Ottley). Macdermot & Clinker: Th e History of the Great Western Railway, 1989 Edn., Ian Allan.

103 Martyn J. McGinty

J. Marshall: A Biographical Dictionary of Railway Engineers, 1978, David & Charles. O. S. Nock: William Stanier, 1964, Ian Allan. J. B. Radford: Derby Works & Midland Locomotives, 1971, Ian Allan. British Standard Steam Locomotives (Vol. 1) Edited R. K. Taylor, 1994, R.C.T.S. J. T. Van Riemsdijk: Compound Locomotives, 1994, Atlantic. Alan Rimmer: Testing Times at Derby, 2004, Oakwood Press. Col. H. C. B Rogers: Th ompson & Peppercorn, 1979, Ian Allan Chapelon: Genius of French Steam, 1972, Ian Allan Riddles and the 9Fs, 1982, Ian Allan Riddles: Th e Last Great Steam Locomotive Engineer, 1970, George Allen and Unwin. P. W. B. Semmens: Bill Hoole: Engineman Extraordinary, 1966, Ian Allan. R. Tolley: Steaming spires, 1987, David & Charles. P. N. Townend: Top Shed, 1989 Edn., Ian Allan.

Periodicals: Steam Classic Steam Railway Steam World Railway World

Acknowledgement is gratefully given in respect of ‘A Concise History of the Locomotive’ (© Th e 71000 Trust) the study of which bolstered my determination.

104