(Thomas is shunting a long line of trucks into a siding. He can't quite see the buffers, so Percy is helping to guide him in from an adjacent siding...)
Percy: Okay, back a bit... Back a bit further! Come on, you're doing alright... Left hand- Left hand down a bit! Left hand down a bit...!
Thomas: What exactly does that mean?
Percy: What's what mean?
Thomas: Left hand down a bit - what does it mean?
Percy: I don't know. I've just heard people saying it when they've been helping people to reverse lorries in the goods yard. Must mean something...
Thomas: I can't think what... How much further have I got to go?
Percy: Oh, you've got a few feet yet. Just keep coming...keep coming! C'mon, bit further! Bit further-
(Suddenly, the trucks impact against the buffers with an almighty BANG! Thomas stops sharply.)
Number: 47191 (D1841, pre-TOPS)
Class: BR Class 47 Co-Co
Built: 1965
First visted Sodor: Around 1980/81
Service on Sodor (Shed): NWR Utility (Crovan's Gate)
Livery: BR Diesel Blue
The NWR has seen its fair share of visiting BR engines over the years, and from the 1960s onwards, almost all of these have been diesels. Most of them simply stay for a night or two and then head home, without making much of an impression. A select few end up going native and joining the NWR's ranks. And then there are some who aren't permanent Sodor residents, but might as well be, considering how often they visit the island. Todd fits squarely into this last category.
Todd is one of a number of Class 47s who travels onto NWR metals on a regular basis - usually with trains he's brought from other BR regions. He generally stays on Sodor for a few days at a time, does any odd jobs that crop up, and then heads back to the Mainland - all without much in the way of fanfare or recognition. Not that Todd would know what to do with a thank you if he received one - the satisfaction of a job well done is reward enough for him, and as a 47, he's used to quietly going about his work without anyone taking any notice of him.
In fact, that seems to be what Todd's all about. Like most of his brothers and sisters (all five hundred-odd of them!), he's content to think of himself as one of the backroom boys - doing whatever work comes his way, going wherever that work takes him, and quietly going about it in the background, unseen and unsung. Not for him, the whole business of trying to stand out from the crowd.
But Todd does stand out, in his own small way. He's got a certain something which sets him apart from his siblings - a sort of charisma that makes it difficult not to like him. Even the most uptight or prejudiced engines can't help but befriend him after a short while. Todd also likes to keep busy, and can get restless if he's got nothing to do - which is probably why he's always taking on odd jobs whenever he's on Sodor.
Todd began life as D1841, and entered service in April 1965. He was allocated to Crewe North shed, from which he ran all manner of trains right across the north of England. For the first month of his life, Todd shared the shed with what few steam engines were still based there. Even so early on, he had a natural charisma, which allowed him to build up a good rapport with the steam engines in the short time they were around - something which was to stand Todd in good stead later on in his life.
Like with so many of his siblings, Todd's existence was to be one of remarkable consistency. For example, he has been based at Crewe for almost his entire life - I say almost, because he was inexplicably transferred to the Birmingham area for a few months in 1968, before returning to Crewe just as suddenly. His pattern of work has also remained much the same - travel to some distant depot, spend a night or two there, and then make his way back to Crewe.
If you were to ask Todd (as indeed we did), he'd be the first to admit that his early life wasn't all that exciting. In fact, the most interesting thing to happen to him, so he says, was when he was given his current number of 47191 under the TOPS scheme of the early-1970s. Oh yes, and there was that one time he was left idling in a siding during a trip working, and a fox somehow got into his rear cab and stole half his driver's lunch! It was a young tod that did the deed, and this is allegedly how 47191 came to be known as Todd.
Yes, very interesting stuff, but let's skip forward a bit to the winter of 1980/81, seeing as that was when Todd paid his first visit to the NWR. That day had seen him arriving at Vicarstown with an ordinary semi-fast service from Manchester, and handing the train over to an NWR engine - Todd remembers it being Henry - to complete the journey to Tidmouth. He'd then made his way to Crovan's Gate for refuelling and servicing - BR diesels having special permission to make use of NWR facilities when visiting Sodor.
As usual, Todd spent a couple of days hanging around Crovan's Gate, and this meant he was on hand to rescue James when his injectors failed just outside Ballahoo. His past rapport with steam engines came in useful here, as his friendly conversation with James played a great part in finally dispelling the red engine's longstanding prejudices against diesels. As a result of this encounter, James is now one of Todd's closest friends among the Sodor engines.
Todd left Sodor for home soon after, but one way or another, he just kept on coming back throughout most of the 80s. While not a constant presence, he returned just often enough that the Sodor engines began to recognise him, and got to know him better. He always stayed at Crovan's Gate during his visits, so the others affectionately referred to him as The Works Diesel - at least, until someone finally thought to ask what his actual name was!
As mentioned above, Todd was not the only 47 to visit Sodor on a regular basis - in fact, he was one of about half a dozen who frequently ventured onto NWR metals. This fact was frequently forgotten by the Sodor engines, who naturally had trouble telling at a glance just which one of the visiting diesels they were dealing with. Sometimes they would just guess, and end up being completely wrong - many was the time when an NWR engine would strike up a conversation with Todd, only to realise too late that they were actually talking to a Damien, or even a Gemma!
Todd, for his part, was always patient when correcting others and explaining how to tell him apart from his fellow 47s. (In short, it's all in the numbers - Todd is 47191, Gemma is 47166, Damien is 47304, and so on...) He often explained it in a strained voice, though, so we can assume it annoyed him just as much as it did the others - indeed, it's probably one of the only things to get under the skin of the otherwise-unflappable Todd.
Todd's visits to Sodor continued into the 1990s, but became more sporadic from about 1993 onwards. All we know about Todd's history after this point is what he's shared during his subsequent visits. In short, he was caught up in the madness of privatisation, and ended up with a spot-hire firm offering engines to freight operating companies on a short-term basis. One of these companies had a contract to run freight trains between Britain and Sodor, and it is while pulling some of these trains that Todd has made his most recent ventures onto NWR metals.
To this day, Todd remains a welcome sight - if not a regular one - on the rails of Sodor. He always enjoys catching up with the friends he's made there, and he is forever impressed by how much the island has managed to stay the same, even as the rest of the world has changed beyond recognition. The Sodor engines, too, are impressed by how much Todd has managed to stay the same: after all the changes he's witnessed and experienced, he's still the same friendly, charismatic, hard-working Todd they first got to know back in 1980 - one simply has to marvel at his consistency!
Trivia
As you might have worked out, Todd is my take on the unnamed Class 47 who helped change James' perception of diesels by coming to his aid in Deep Freeze, and turned up in a couple of other places. He's never been given an official name, which gives the fandom carte-blanche to call him whatever they like - the ERS, for instance, calls him Wendell. Most fans don't bother, though, simply referring to him as The Works Diesel.
Why did I go with Todd as a name? Well, I once read that the Class 47s are sometimes nicknamed Brushes after their manufacturer, and I thought, "Hmm, Brush is also the name for a fox's tail - so why don't I name all my Class 47 OCs after fictional foxes or fox-related individuals?" I loved this idea for two reasons: it helped narrow down the potential options to a manageable number, and it would allow me to indulge my weakness for terrible puns.
Tod, by the way, is a popular name for fictional foxes - it being the traditional term for a male fox - but I can't remember which one I specifically named this Todd after.
There was no real rhyme or reason to Todd specifically being 47191. My only requirements were that he was a bog-standard 47, based at Crewe around the time Deep Freeze takes place, and withdrawn early enough that I could extend his fictional history without clashing with real life - it took a lot of trawling through BRDatabase to find an example that fit the bill on all three counts.
I got inspired by current events and wrote a nice little story for it. I'm starting to move everything onto A03 just so it's easier to find, but you can read the whole thing under the break.
An Engine For Everyone
Present Day
In the modern era, the North Western Railway has become world-renowned for its historic fleet of locomotives, coaches, and freight cars. Enthusiasts come from all over the world to see them, and in the process, bring in a significant amount of money.
However, the NWR is a working railway, doing its best to keep up with the travel demands of the Island’s residents and visitors, while also operating safe and comfortable services. This means that many of the “truly historic” operations that enthusiasts wish to see don’t actually occur all that often. For example, almost all of the railway’s main line coaching stock are British Rail Mk. 1, 2, and 3s, most of the trucks have been equipped with bogies and air brakes, and many of the engines have been modified and painted to the point where they bear little resemblance to the black-and-white photos of yore.
While many enthusiasts are content with seeing historic equipment still in every-day service, not everyone is on-board with this state of affairs, and frequent demands were made of the railway to run services “like they used to,” with period-appropriate equipment, paint, and the like.
The Fat Controller, never one to turn down a good idea, even if the ones suggesting it were annoying, agreed, and the railway began operating “heritage charters” in the early 2000s.
These charters were not intended for the traveling public, and were instead aimed squarely at the ‘discerning’ enthusiast. For an exorbitant ticket price every Sunday, they would be guaranteed a historically accurate train trip across the NWR’s network, on a wide variety of rolling stock.
As one would expect, these trips were massive successes virtually overnight. The train consists were wildly varied, ranging from Gordon and a line of teak express coaches; Henry and some four-wheeled fish vans (along with a number of brake vans for the enthusiasts); Caerphilly pulling chocolate-and-cream coaches; Bloomer towing a line of open coaches; and of course, Thomas, Annie, and Clarabel.
Another key player in this lineup was James; he hadn’t changed in his appearance in the slightest since he arrived on the island almost a hundred years prior. Additionally, as a mixed traffic engine, he was just as likely to be seen pulling freight as he was passenger services. This meant he was able to easily portray any period of the Island’s railway history without breaking the “immersion” the enthusiasts cherished so much.
----
“I’m historically accurate!” he crowed to the other engines when he first found out about this.
“It means you’re boring and predictable,” Edward said, without opening his eyes. “You haven’t changed at all in a hundred years.”
James glared at him, and opened his mouth to retort.
“Yes you are,” Edward continued. “And no, you haven’t.”
James began to turn red.
“Liking diesels does not qualify as ‘changing.’”
James reddened further. “I-”
“The works once received a poorly-mixed batch of your paint and you were so upset about it that they started producing it in-house.” Edward still hadn’t opened his eyes. “It was about the same colour as your face has turned by now.”
Around the shed, the other engines couldn’t hold it in anymore, and they howled with laughter as James tried (and failed) to compose himself.
----
In spite of this, James adored the heritage charters. The passengers usually made the trip into an event, wearing period appropriate clothes and listening to old music. They took lots of photographs during the event, and he was usually the central focus. Even better (for him, not anyone else), he soon became a favorite of the enthusiasts, as his ease in front of the camera meant that it took no time at all to stage photographs - something that took an age with some of the other engines. As a result of this, James was running at least one charter train a month by the 2010s, far more than any of the other engines - even Thomas. Some groups even requested him specifically, and would spend all day getting photographs of him.
In the sheds, there was a feeling of dread about this. James could be insufferable on a good day, but if he let this go to his smokebox, problems would occur.
But it never did. To everyone’s continued surprise, James remained his normal self, even as the railway’s advertisements of the charters began to feature him prominently.
“What?” he scoffed when someone finally slipped up and mentioned it to him. “Me? Because of that? Why?”
“Well, I mean, any engine would-” Henry stuttered, mentally kicking himself for speaking without thinking.
“Oh come on!” James crowed. “Everyone has always wanted to photograph me! All that’s different nowadays is that the cameras also have telephones, so everyone can do it!” He paused. “Maybe, Henry, the rest of you just can’t handle the attention!”
------
Things got even more pronounced after the Pandemic. With traffic volumes at their lowest levels since the Beeching cuts, The Fat Controller was willing to let enthusiast groups charter out trains for as long as they wanted, and let them run those trains anywhere they liked. Many of these sessions were “photo charters” - a charter train that isn’t meant for the enthusiasts to ride, but instead is exclusively there to take pictures of. This meant that the enthusiasts would often have to charter a second train to carry them around in. At first, the engines pulling the second train were the ones who had been shut up in the sheds for the longest during the lockdowns, but after a few trips, James ended up on one of them…
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” he bellowed, as the photographers tried to plot out the ideal photograph. “Sam! Move forward a few feet!”
“Why?”
“So your connecting rods are down. It shows off your motion that way.”
“That’s a thing!?”
“Yes!” he barked. “For goodness sake has nobody ever had their photo taken before? This is child’s play…”
After that, he became a fixture of the NWR’s heritage charters. Even when he was the subject of the photographs, he had thoughts and opinions on the matter which were not only sarcastic, but usually correct. This greatly amused a large percentage of the enthusiasts, and before long, James’ “railfan colour commentary” became a trending topic on social media. Much like a snowball rolling down a hill, things only got bigger from there; soon the NWR’s publicity department was filming him with cell phones for use on social media.
-
“Which one is this going on?” Caerphilly tried her best to not be involved in whatever nonsense dance the interns were doing while they stood in front of James.
“It’s called Rednote, I think.”
“And what is that one?”
“Chinese, I think?”
“Why are you being put on a Chinese social media site?”
“I’m too fabulous to be restricted to just the English language; everyone needs to see my magnificence!”
“How you haven’t become puffed up in the smokebox about this is beyond me. I almost want to study you.”
“Years of Poise and Dignity, dear Caerphilly. Poise and Dignity.”
Caerphilly had no response - at least, not while the interns were still filming!
-
James’ internet fame soon came at a cost to his personal time. West Coast Railways, one of the largest rail charter operators on the mainland, was embroiled in yet another scandal about how unsafe their trains were. Many services they ran were canceled, leaving charter train and railtour organizers looking for other steam engines.
More than one of these groups asked for James by name, and he was soon off to locations all over the country: London, Penzance, Glenfinnan, and the Firth of Forth. It was a whirlwind tour that kept him away from home for almost two months; the engines would have missed him, but they didn’t have the chance to, considering his frequent appearances on social media.
-
“I see him less when he’s here!” Gordon muttered to no-one in particular, after yet another video of James pulling The Jacobite was shown to the sheds.
“Och,” Donald grumbled. “I’ve been over that bridge a hundred times back when. Why do I have tae see it again?”
“An we only video called him las’ night!” Douglas put in. “Surely we don’ have tae sit here watching him like a gawping eejit without at least bein’ able to speak to ‘im!”
“Well, maybe some of us want to keep up to date on what he’s doing?” Delta said, quietly.
“Ach, I wasnae talking about you. Yer special.” Donald groaned. “Why do I have to see ‘im morning noon and bloody night on a tiny little screen?”
“It’s not little!” one of the interns protested. “It’s an iPad Pro!”
“Lassie, I donae care what pad pro it is, it’s like trying to read something printed on a fly’s behind at fifty paces! I cannae barely see it!”
“Maybe you need glasses, have you considered that?” Gordon said imperiously.
“Och, like I need anything from you tonight!”
-
When James returned several weeks later, he was in grand spirits, greeting his friends up and down the island for several days afterwards. He spoke of nothing but the places he went, and the engines he met, and everyone assumed, somewhat jealously, that he’d been given a “working vacation” by The Fat Controller.
However, when the next Sunday came around, James wasn’t rostered for the weekly charter train. The Fat Controller himself came down to the shed, explaining to James that he’d earned a rest, and ordered him to “take the entire day off.”
The other engines expected James to push back on this, to insist that he’d be allowed to pull the next charter. However, he didn’t; instead, he thanked The Fat Controller for his kindness, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep!
The other engines looked at each other. James hadn’t missed a charter train on his own accord in over a decade - and even then he’d complained about it. They wanted to ask him about this, but they had to leave for their various jobs; after all, while the railway might be slower on Sundays, it didn’t stop.
Around noon, Delta managed to steal away from her duties, and slipped into the sheds. She found James quietly dozing in a sunny spot. He woke up as she got closer.
“You don’t miss charters unless something’s wrong.” She wasn’t about to beat around the bush. “What happened on the mainland?”
James knew how blunt she preferred things to be. “Railtours and charters have changed over there, on the mainland,” he groused. “Nobody’s really interested in the actual train anymore.”
“I thought they asked for you specifically?”
“They did! But that was so they could say I would be there! I was…” he hunted for the right words. “Window dressing for the whole affair. It could have been any steam engine and they wouldn’t have cared. They get on the train, sit down in the coaches and then don’t do anything the entire time! I might as well have been here, pulling the express!”
“Hang on, I saw all those pictures on Instagram. Loads of people were there to see you, weren’t they?”
“Oh yes, the people on the lineside wanted to see me, but I had a schedule to keep! I’d see them for a few seconds, but the people on the train couldn’t have given a toss. It was very disheartening.”
“Oh, Jamie, I’m sorry. I thought you were having a much better time…”
“Well, it wasn’t all bad, but…” He trailed off. “I don’t feel right, doing those trains again. Nobody seemed to enjoy themselves, or care! Do you know how much they charge to ride some of these trains? It’s more than my driver and fireman make in three months put together.”
“So, that’s it? You don’t want to do the trains anymore?”
“No, that’s not it.” He looked around the shed. “It’s just that… everyone was paying so much money for something they didn’t seem to care about, while everyone who did care was getting left behind.”
“That’s… very kind of you, actually. Of all the things that I thought had happened to you, this wasn’t it.”
James scoffed. “What, did you think I’d gotten hurt or something? That I would have mentioned when I called! That was just… distasteful. From now on, I’m only going to surround myself with people who enjoy my company.”
Delta smirked. “So Gordon is going to be sleeping in the carriage shed, then?”
“Pah!” James snorted. “He can go do the next batch of tours - and he’d enjoy them! They were all ‘premium materials,’ snooty people and express timings; it’d be his perfect holiday!”
“What on earth are ‘premium materials?’”
“I don’t know. Presumably some marketing tripe that lets them charge so much for the tickets.”
She smiled. “Does that include you? Are you a premium material?”
He paused, looking pensive. “Goodness, I hope not. I don’t want my name attached to that sort of thing. I am not a premium product if that’s what they offer!”
She laughed. “Of course, you're not a premium product, you’re for the people.”
He gasped, which was unexpected. “Of course! That’s brilliant! James is not a premium product, James is for everybody! My adoring public will not be kept from me by high ticket prices!”
Delta could only close her eyes and smile. “Oh, no… what have I done?”
-------------
A few weeks later
Something that James had missed while on his charter train tour of England was the announcement of a release date for a video game. Called “The Wonders of Sodor,” it was a delightful-looking game that married the aesthetics of the children’s television show with the play style of a train simulator.
Considering that it was based on the television show, and not reality, it only portrayed the engines from the television show - Gordon, Thomas, Percy, Emily, and Diesel. (By this point in time, nobody was batting an eye at the fact that many of the engines on the TV show weren’t real. It was instead an annoying fact of life they all had to deal with. Why no, Duck wasn’t still upset that Caerphilly had been deemed “too mature” to be on the TV show, why do you ask?)
Considering that only a few engines had been selected to appear in the game, and it was based primarily off of the television show, few on Sodor paid it any notice… until another announcement was made.
--------
“This is absolutely outrageous!” James had been going on and on for some time. “I am not an extra fee! I am not going to be deprived from people unless they pay ten quid for me!”
“Twelve quid.” Bear coughed. “And the game itself costs thirty.”
“WHAT?!”
--------
Later
“I am not DLC! I am freeware! No-one should be deprived of me because they don’t have twelve pounds after paying thirty! For a re-skin of Train Sim World! These people at Dovetail should-”
“Do you have any idea what those words you just said mean? Any idea at all?” Oliver interrupted him.
“No! But the children from the PR department do! I can learn new things!”
“James… this is a video game.”
“Just you wait! One day you’ll become DLC and then you’ll be mad about it too!”
“Do you… know what the letters in DLC stand for?”
“What does that have to do with anything?!”
---------
Days later
“No! I will not advertise that stupid game for them!” James scowled. “I am not an add-on! James is for everyone, not just people with twelve pounds!”
“James,” the intern said, looking at the screen of the phone. “You do know we’re live right now, right?”
A rictus grin appeared as if by magic. “Really? Which app?”
“Instagram.”
“With our two hundred thousand followers?”
“Uh huh.”
“And they just heard that?”
“A lot of them did.”
“Oh spiffy.”
---------
Weeks later
The game’s release date was just days away. They’d put up a billboard in Tidmouth. He could see it every morning when he left the sheds. So could everyone else.
“James, if I pay 12 pounds, will you move out of the way?” Gordon quipped as he waited in line for the water tower.”
----------
Days after that
The game came out to widespread appeal. Many people paid the twelve pounds. James was not thrilled, but by this point he’d accepted that he couldn’t do anything about it. (The Fat Controller had spoken to him sternly about it.)
Sunday came, and James was still taking “a break” from charter trains. In his place this weekend was a much more modern train - Pip and Emma. A few months previously, the last mainline Intercity HST trains had been retired on the mainland, leaving the twin diesels as the only HST to still operate anything close to a full intercity service. As a result, they had been painted, polished, and made to look much like they did in the 1970s, and were running up and down the main line with loads of enthusiasts on board.
The Fat Controller had been very understanding of James’ reluctance to pull any charter trains for a while (in fact, he’d been much more understanding of that than he’d been about the whole video game debacle), and had made sure that James was given easy duties on Sundays for the time being. Today’s train was a slow goods train, non-stop from Tidmouth Harbour all the way to Barrow.
The trucks were in a good mood this morning, and so while they did sing and laugh about having a “premium DLC engine” pulling them, they didn’t cause any actual trouble.
They made good time all the way to Wellsworth, but damp rails and a heavy train are rarely a good mix, and the train stalled halfway up Gordon’s Hill.
There was nothing to do but wait for a banker to help them up the grade, and James rolled his eyes as the trucks began chattering about which level in the video game this was.
Shortly, Henry arrived, and with a minimum of fuss, the two engines got the train going again. They reached the top in short order, but as James went to whistle his thanks, there was a rush of wind and a loud honk-honk as Pip and Emma streaked past in a blur of Rail Blue and Safety Yellow.
---
Later
The train was not timetabled to be fast, and it was some time before he reached Killdane. When he got there, he found the signal to be red. In the distance, he could see Pip and Emma, stopped on the main line.
“What’s the matter?” he asked the signalman.
“Something’s gone wrong with Emma,” he said. “AWS won’t let her release the brakes.”
Memories of the mainland charters made James's boiler sink despite himself. The people were all the same - snooty fussing that a failed train had "ruined their day," as though anyone had planned a breakdown. Shouted protests about a relief or rescue engine not being what they had paid good money for and came all this way to see.
A train of upset people. With cameras. He should really make an excuse and go back down the line.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” But what sort of coward would he be if he didn’t offer?
“I’ll see.”
As it turned out, there was something James could do, and a few minutes later he was shunting his train into the electric line’s yard for someone else to get later. After that, he was somewhat reluctantly steaming ‘wrong road’ up the main line towards Pip and Emma.
--
Of course, he needn't have worried. The Pip and Emma’s passengers had decided that this was the perfect time to get out and take photos, and the lineside was packed with people and cameras. As James came around the train, a cheer broke out, and more photos were taken. Once he’d been switched onto the same track as Pip and Emma, the camera clicking grew to a frenetic pace.
James couldn’t help but smile for the cameras. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all - at least on Sodor.
“Oi,” one of the photographers said loudly. “Is this part of the DLC? Everybody have 12 quid?”
The group roared with laughter, and even Pip and Emma giggled.
James sighed, and laughed. “James is for everyone, even on a rescue mission!”
The crowd laughed louder.
---------
Later still
James towed Pip and Emma the whole way to Barrow. It had taken some time for word to get out, but by the time they reached the end of the line, the station platform was packed with photographers.
The train rolled to a stop in a sea of shutter clicks and camera flashes. It was momentarily overwhelming, but after a period of adjustment, James worked the crowd with ease, posing for photos and videos for over an hour, until the stationmaster began to clear people out so the next train could come in.
------
That night
The sheds were quiet by the time James got back. The “someone else” he’d left his train in Killdane for turned out to be him, and the delays had cascaded from there.
“How was your day?” He’d parked next to Delta, who opened one eye sleepily. “I heard your adoring public loved it.”
He smiled. “Everyone had a wonderful day… including me.”
“I’m so happy for you,” she yawned. “I guess you proved that James is for everybody.”
He laughed. “I suppose I did.”
She looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. “Are you going to do any more charters after this?”
One of the NWR’s biggest achievements in recent years has been the extension of the Arlesburgh branch all the way up to the fishing town of Harwick. This ambitious project was completed in 1986, and was the final realization of a plan which had taken seventy years to come into fruition. However, this extension was not the first railway to reach Harwick. That honour went to an equally ambitious scheme to link this isolated part of Sodor with the island's heartland - the Cronk & Harwick Railway.
In the 1850s, the tiny fishing village of Harwick was in the middle of an economic slump. The people of the Ooyre Valley had long supported themselves with a lucrative smuggling trade, but this had recently been suppressed by the authorities, and there was almost nothing in the way of legitimate work to fall back on. Something had to be done if poverty and unrest were to be avoided.
At that time, the first railways were being built on Sodor, and someone suggested that Harwick should have one of its own - it would help bring money to the area, and provide honest work for the people. A scheme was drawn up which would see a line running from Harwick, up the Ooyre Valley, and then swinging south to the nearest major settlement, the fort town of Peel Godred. There, it would link with the rest of Sodor via a line which had already been proposed by the fledgling Sodor & Mainland Railway.
The Cronk & Harwick Railway Company, as the scheme became known, was formed in 1855, and construction began right away. Naturally, they started at the Harwick end, constructing a stone pier where goods could be exchanged between ships and wagons. The stone came from a new quarry at Droghan-y-Claghan, about six miles up the valley...
...And therein lay a problem. The new railway had been planned following the route of an existing road between Harwick and Peel Godred, with gradients deemed suitable for both horses and steam locomotives. However, the line had been forced to diverge from the road at one point a mile or so out of Harwick, and the new route took it up a much steeper gradient.
Above and Below: The top and bottom ends of Sheep Pasture Incline, on the Cromford & High Peak Railway in Derbyshire. The incline on the C&HR was worked to very much the same principles.
The solution in this case was a rope-worked incline, up and down which wagons could be raised and lowered. Initially, only a single line was laid, with the hauling power provided by a stationary steam engine at the top. In later years, though, the incline track was doubled, and it became more common to use descending loaded wagons to haul ascending empties.
The C&HR extended eastward in a piecemeal fashion throughout the 1860s, and by 1870 had reached the hamlet of Cregwir. It had also become clear by now, though, that the Sodor & Mainland Railway was on the verge of bankruptcy, and unlikely to get around to building its promised branch line to Peel Godred. By this time, the narrow gauge Mid Sodor Railway was making an effort to reach the town, and the C&HR decided to forge ahead with construction, in the hopes that they could build an interchange station.
The 1870s also saw the opening of a roadside tramway between Harwick and Ballaswein. This used the existing C&HR line for its first mile or so, diverging to the north just before Harwick Bottom, the yard at the base of the incline. At this stage, the tramway was worked by horse-drawn vehicles, as indeed was the rest of the C&HR network.
Above: The Harwick & Ballaswein Tramway used double-decker tramcars somewhat akin to this example on the Douglas Bay Horse Tramway, over on the neighbouring Isle of Man.
It was not until the 1880s that money became available for steam engines to be introduced to the C&HR. The Harwick Incline had effectively split the line into two sections, and the motive power considerations were different for each. For the lower section, it was decided that two tram engines would suffice - one to work the Ballaswein Tramway, and the other to haul wagons between the Incline and the Pier.
Above: C&HR #1, Flora - the first of the two tram engines, and now the only surviving C&HR engine. Seen here in her heritage livery, circa 1980.
To this end, the C&HR ordered two engines from Thomas Green & Sons of Leeds, to a specification not unlike a pair they'd recently supplied to the Dundee & District Tramway. Both engines arrived on Sodor in 1885, and began work later that same year. C&HR #1 was named Flora, after a Roman goddess of spring. #2 should have been named Chloris - Flora's Greek equivalent - but there was apparently a miscommunication, and she ended up being named Clarice instead!
When it came to the upper section, only one engine was deemed necessary for the moment - with the possibility of more being acquired once the Peel Godred extension was complete. The C&HR turned to the second-hand market for this engine, purchasing a Black Hawthorn 0-4-0ST from parts unknown. This became the railway's #3, and gained the name Zanthus (after one of the horses he was to replace - who was himself named after an immortal horse in Greek mythology).
Above: Zanthus bears a striking resemblence to this 1874 machine, Bauxite No.2, now preserved at York. The coach, too, looks not unlike the two supplied to the C&HR.
The seller also offered the C&HR a pair of ancient four-wheeled coaches, which they accepted with the intention of establishing dedicated passenger services on the upper section. These plans never really came to fruition, though - the closest they got was using the coaches as guard's vans on goods trains, and allowing passengers to hitch a lift if they needed one (for a small fee, obviously).
The stage was now set for the two halves of the C&HR to settle into the pattern of life they would enjoy for the remainder of their existence. Flora and Clarice handled the lower section together, with one engine carrying passengers between Harwick and Ballaswein, and the other hauling wagons between the Pier and Harwick Bottom.
Meanwhile, Zanthus had sole charge of the upper section. His main duties were hauling loaded stone wagons from the two quarries to Harwick Top, and bringing back the empties. The level of traffic in the area was such that he had no problem also carrying general goods, or even the odd passenger. The line as a whole paid its way, but only just...
All the while, the C&HR continued extending towards Peel Godred, progressing bit by bit as money and materials allowed. To their credit, they actually got surprisingly far - by 1914, they were only two or three miles away from their goal. I mention this year specifically because that was of course when the North Western Railway was formed, as an amalgamation of most of the existing standard gauge lines on Sodor - with the exception of the Cronk & Harwick line, which remained independent.
The NWR had intended to build their own line up the coast to Harwick, as a strategic railway during the First World War, but by the time they’d reached Arlesburgh, the immediate threat had passed, so that was where the line stopped. Other projects took priority, and one of these was to finally construct the S&MR's proposed branch line to Peel Godred, which was completed in 1923.
Above and Below: NWR #1, Thomas (with Annie & Clarabel) on a railtour along the C&HR line, some time in the 1980s. The producers of the television series took inspiration from the line when designing their version of Toby's old tramway. These views are a few miles north of Peel Godred.
The NWR still wanted to reach Harwick somehow, and upon hearing about the C&HR's line, entered into talks with the smaller company. Terms were soon agreed: the NWR would complete the last bit of track, in exchange for being allowed running powers over the C&HR network. They were as good as their word - they built the last couple of miles of track into Peel Godred, and expanded their station there to accommodate the new line. At the other end of the line, they built a new line which diverged from the existing line at Droghan-y-Claghan, bypassed the Incline, and travelled into Harwick on a gradient much more suitable for steam engines. The work was completed in 1925, and the results were...
...Disappointing, in the long run. The NWR didn't gain much from the endeavour apart from access to Harwick itself. Even this wasn't quite as successful as hoped - the route was long, arduous and convoluted, its isolated nature made it unpopular with engines who had to use it, and NWR trains often had to stop and make way for those on the C&HR - and their timetables were...relaxed, to put it mildly.
Above: Another view of Thomas on the C&HR, on the same railtour. I forgot to include it on my map, but this is Black Loch - I imagine this is at the opposite end of the loch from Callan Castle.
By the 1930s, things were not so rosy for the C&HR either. The last few years had seen the rise of motor vehicles, and these had gradually taken away what little traffic the line still carried. It started with the motor buses, which killed off the Ballaswein Tramway in 1933 - effectively turning the lower section into a goods-only line.
Then came the really fatal blow, in the form of the motor lorries. This did for the stone traffic, and in 1935, the Cronk & Harwick Railway finally shut its doors for good - with rolling stock, track and infrastructure all being sold to the NWR. There was very little they could do for the line, and it's most likely that, had it not been for the outbreak of war in 1939, they would have abandoned the line much sooner than they actually did.
As it was, the War gave the C&H line a brief reprieve, when it provided a vital rail link to a small naval base established at Harwick. This reprieve only lasted as long as hostilities did, and as soon as it was all over, the NWR finally made the reluctant decision to pull the plug. By 1947, the line had been completely abandoned, but the tracks were left in situ, just in case - a decision that was to pay dividends years later...
The story of the C&HR ends there, and does not pick up again until the late 1960s, when the NWR successfully reopens its branch line to Arlesburgh. This had prompted discussion within NWR circles regarding the possibility of extending the branch up the coast to Harwick, as had been intended in 1916. At the same time, though, there had also been growing pressure from the people of the Ooyre Valley to reinstate the old Cronk & Harwick line. Ultimately, the latter course of action was decided upon, as a short-term means of reaching Harwick by rail until the coastal line could be constructed.
Restoring the line itself was relatively straightforward, at least compared to the problem of finding sources of traffic - and motive power to handle it. The quarry companies had long switched over to lorries, and not too bothered about taking their business back to the railways - and there was almost no other goods traffic to fall back on. This meant that the line would have to cater entirely to passengers, but there were hardly enough of them to fill even a single coach.
Above: The observation saloons mentioned in the next paragraph - shown here in this undated view, being temporarily stored in the private siding of O.L King Coal Merchants, Ffarquhar.
The solution to both problems came rather by chance. During the line's restoration, Sir Topham Hatt had placed a pair of the NWR's observation saloons at the disposal of the gangers, to allow them to easily travel between worksites. Unfortunately, this restoration took place during 1968/69, at which time railtours and enthusiasts' specials were becoming popular on the rest of the network. The saloons were frequently in demand for these specials, and the workmen in charge of the C&H restoration were increasingly having to make do with whatever other coaches could be spared (to say nothing of the problem of having to roster an engine to pull them).
In response to this, Sir Topham Hatt made arrangements with British Rail to have a railbus loaned to the NWR to replace the saloons on the C&H project. BR had recently introduced these railbuses - smaller versions of their existing railcars and multiple units - on many of their lesser-used rural lines, and they'd helped enormously in helping to keep certain lines open. I'm sure you can see where this is going - Sir Topham Hatt realised that a railbus was exactly what was needed for the C&H line.
Above: A BR Park Royal railbus, of the same type as NWR #D5 Sheridan. This example is working on the Ayr & Dalmellington line in Scotland - the sort of isolated, sparsely-populated line these railbuses were designed for.
Sheridan - for that was this particular railbus' name - was duly taken into NWR stock, becoming the railway's number D5. With his help, the C&H restoration was complete by the beginning of 1969, at which point he took on the running of the passenger service between Harwick and Peel Godred. For this, Sheridan proved to be ideally suited - he could carry just the right number of passengers, had additional space to carry parcels and small goods, and he was even fitted with automatic folding steps, which allowed him to stop between stations to let people on and off closer to their homes.
The reopening of the C&H line did not exactly create an economic boom in the Harwick area, but it did help revive the area's fortunes in a small way. It was now easier for the people of the Ooyre Valley to travel to other parts of Sodor, and Sudrians were likewise better able to reach the scattered settlements to the north of their island - this area has largely been overlooked by mainland visitors, and so is a popular holiday destination for Sudrians looking to get away from it all.
Because of its remote location and low-key existence, the C&H line has not seen as many changes as on the rest of the NWR network. That's not to say it hasn't changed at all, of course, so let's finish this article by looking at a couple of the developments which have occurred in recent years.
Above: A picture of the Bowes Railway near Newcastle, an incline railway now operating as a heritage concern - pretty similar to how I imagine the Harwick Top Railway.
The late 1970s, for instance, saw the formation of the Harwick Top Trust, a band of enthusiasts who set up an industrial heritage centre at the yard of that name. As well as restoring the incline for demonstration purposes, they also reopened a stretch of the old goods line, running from Harwick Top itself to a point just outside Droghan-y-Claghan.
Above: Flora on running-in trials following her restoration in 1980. Alongside is the NWR's own #1, Thomas, and both are standing in the station at Great Waterton - itself newly-restored at this time.
The enthusiasts also managed to restore Flora, by now the only surviving engine from the old C&HR. Following the line's initial closure, she'd been put on static display in Harwick Park, along with one of her tram coaches. Both were purchased by the HTT in 1978, and restored to working order over the next two years. When the work was completed in 1980, the NWR generously allowed Flora's running-in trials to be carried out on their metals - this neatly doubled as a promotional tool for the fledgling HTR.
Below: Flora and her tram coach, circa 1980. The Sodor Tramways signs should of course actually read Ballaswein Tramway - although in HTR service, the coach carries a rotating selection of vintage advertisements sourced from old Sodor Roadways buses.
The next major development to affect the C&HR was the long-awaited extension of the Arlesburgh branch up the coast to Harwick. This was completed in 1986, a good seventy-odd years after this rail link to Harwick had first been proposed. For the most part, this did not physically affect the running of the C&H line - save for several agonizing weeks where Sheridan had to work around the major upgrade Harwick station received to accommodate the new line.
Below: The upgraded Harwick station, as it appears in the television series. While heavily simplified, the broad strokes of the layout have been preserved. The rightmost track is the through line to the C&HR.
In fact, the only serious effects on the C&H line were to be felt in its timetable - this being rewritten so that Sheridan provided a guaranteed connection with services at Harwick as well as Peel Godred. Although he was not a fast railbus by any means, he still provided the quickest way of travelling between those two settlements, which meant the line's importance did not diminish with the coming of the Arlesburgh branch extension.
Above: Treeton Colliery, South Yorkshire - purely because I needed a picture of a modern-looking colliery for this final section. Below: Ditto for this picture of Calder Hall nuclear power station. I know it's not a modular reactor, but shush...!
In the late-80s/early-90s, the railways around Harwick rose to even greater importance thanks to two major Sudrian developments. Firstly, a new modular nuclear power plant was constructed on the site of the long-closed quarry at Droghan-y-Claghan. Around the same time, vast untapped deposits of coal were discovered beneath Sodor's northernmost coastline, and the first shafts were sunk close to the site of the former Cregwir Quarry. Obviously, this necessitated the restoration and upgrading of both the old quarry lines.
Needless to say, both these developments have resulted in a major growth in traffic for the C&H line. While passenger numbers have increased, they remain just about enough for Sheridan to cope with on his own. Should the need arise, though, he is occasionally aided by other engines: either Valiant or Violet from the Arlesburgh end; and either Clarence or Callum from the Peel Godred end. From the late-80s onward, it has become just as common for other engines to visit the area on railtours - be they fellow NWR engines or mainland visitors.
Above: Vulcan, a sister engine to NWR #13 Valiant. Not exactly the best picture, but it was the only one I could find of this type of engine pulling trucks!
Speaking of Valiant, she was actually originally brought to Sodor with the working of the Arlesburgh-Harwick line in mind, and her duties now extend along the C&H line to what is now known as Cregwir Colliery. From here, she hauls trainloads of coal down the Little Western to Tidmouth, for further distribution across Sodor and beyond.
The only other major goods traffic on the line is nuclear waste from the power plant at Droghan-y-Claghan, and this was initially transported by NWR #D22 Chopper. He would carry one or two flask wagons all the way to Barrow-in-Furness, where a pair of BR diesels would take them the rest of the way to the processing centre at Sellafield. From 1995 onwards, though, Direct Rail Services took over the transport of nuclear materials by rail, and now only their diesels are allowed to handle this traffic.
Below: This view is not unlike that of nuclear flask operations on Sodor post-1995 - a pair of DRS-owned diesels (Class 20s, in this case) hauling a couple of flask wagons.
Such has the pattern of life on the old C&HR remained to this day, and this seems a good place to bring this breakdown of its history to a close. And what a history it's been. We started with a valley filled with smugglers and ne'er-do-wells, with ambitions to pull themselves out of the gutter and join up with their fellow Sudrians. And against all the odds, we've finished with them having achieved their goal - maybe not quite in the way they'd intended, but then again, it seems to be part of the Sudrian character to take everything that life throws at them, make the best of it, and somehow come out on top in the end.
We recently got a lore drop on some of the engines that worked on Sodor prior to the formation of the NWR in 1914. I hadn't really given this era much thought when developing my own headcanon, but I did have some nuggets of information. With the recent lore drop, I thought it'd be fun to dig out what little I had done, dust it off, spruce it up a bit, and share it with you today. Of course, it goes without saying that most of what follows has now been rendered non-canon - but hey, I've already taken loads of liberties with the source material, so why should I stop now?
You can find everything below the cut - this all got quite a bit longer than I expected:
SODOR & MAINLAND RAILWAY
Although the S&MR received parliamentary powers to build a line from Suddery to Barrow in 1853, construction did not actually begin until 1861, starting with the section between Ballahoo and Rolf's Castle. That same year saw the company acquire its first steam engines off-the-peg from Neilson's of Glasgow. In all, three engines were bought, their names being Kerr (#1), Neil (#2, seen below) and Mitchell (#3). All three arrived wearing green undercoats, and the S&MR liked it so much that it became the railway's official livery.
Above: An artist's interpretation of S&MR #2, Neil, on the Kirk Ronan extension in May 1865. He is transporting the Skarloey Railway's #1 engine, Skarloey, to the interchange with the narrow-gauge line at Crovan's Gate.
These 0-4-0 box tanks were of a design more generally specified for contractor's work - indeed, all three saw extensive usage for this purpose during the line's construction - and they really weren't that well suited for anything more demanding. Nonetheless, the S&MR would come to depend on the box tanks as its sole motive power during the line's early years, although it is doubtful that this was the company's intention. Although we don't know for certain, it is believed that the S&MR had hopes of acquiring more powerful engines once the funds became available, at which point the box tanks would be relegated to shunting and light goods work.
As we all know, of course, things didn't pan out like that, and the box tanks had sole charge of the S&M network for the forty-odd years that it was in operation. Not that it was a particularly huge network - only running between Ballahoo and Kirk Ronan, with a few offshoots serving mines and other industries. Attempts to extend in either direction were met with failure: the planned main line to Suddery came to nothing, and nor did the proposed branches to Cronk and Peel Godred; they fared no better trying to reach Barrow, giving up after several failed attempts to bridge the Walney Channel.
So much for the S&MR itself, but what about its three box tanks? Well, they performed admirably to the best of their limited capabilities, and the company did what it could to keep them in good working order.
On at least two occasions, the money was available with which to make improvements to the engines. Kerr, for example, was fitted with a cab at some stage, which was an obvious boon to his crew on rainy days - that is, until it was realised that the cab upset Kerr's balance, causing him to bounce uncontrollably. This was obviously no good when it came to passenger trains, and so Kerr was relegated to freight and shunting duties only.
Mitchell, meanwhile, was rebuilt with longer frames to accommodate a trailing axle, making him an 0-4-2T. This helped massively in reducing the rough riding inherent in the box tanks, and this in turn secured Mitchell's position as the line's main passenger engine.
In both cases, these modifications were made experimentally, with a view to rolling them out across all three engines - unfortunately, this never came to pass for financial reasons.
Below: Smelter, a Neilson 0-4-2T supplied to the Redruth & Chasewater Railway in Cornwall. This engine is a good approximation of how S&MR #3 Mitchell looked following his rebuild.
The S&MR was not a financially secure company by any means, and by the late 1890s, it was teetering on the verge of bankruptcy. It tried all sorts of tricks to get itself back into the black: Neil was sold off to the Crovan's Gate Mining Company; Kerr was withdrawn from service for use as a source of spare parts for Mitchell, who was left as the line's only engine. Sadly, in 1901, this final bid for survival came crashing down - Mitchell gave up the ghost, and the S&MR shut its doors later that year.
Neil, meanwhile, soldiered on under the ownership of the CGMC. He initially carried copper from Crovan's Gate to the harbour at Kirk Ronan, until the mines at Ward Fell ran out, and closed in 1909. The mining company shifted their focus to carrying slate, and this became Neil's primary traffic. Being privately owned, he was not initially affected by the formation of the North Western Railway in 1914 - for a time, the CGMC retained running powers over the former S&MR tracks.
Eventually, though, the NWR took over the responsibility of transporting slate to Kirk Ronan and elsewhere, but luckily, Neil was not totally out of a job. You see, as an alternative to Kirk Ronan, the CGMC had built its own wharf on the western edge of Crovan's Gate, where it meets the east bank of the Ben Glas estuary. This was served by a maze of lines and sidings, and although the CGMC did allow NWR trains to use the line, on the whole it preferred to use its own motive power - namely, Neil.
Below: An overall view of Crovan's Gate Wharf. While the standard gauge lines date from the late 1910s, the narrow gauge lines did not come along until the late 1930s. Just visible is Skarloey Railway #6, Duncan.
So Neil became the regular shunter at the Wharf, and this was where he would spend the rest of his working life. He was kept busy either shunting trucks around the complex, or hauling trains up and down the branch line from the main Crovan's Gate station. Much of this traffic was slate, although the Wharf soon became a popular place for the import, export and storage of general goods.
Neil carried on working at the Wharf until the early-1940s. By this time, the Second World War had broken out, and the Wharf became strategically vital for the war effort. Sadly, this sudden upsurge in activity was more than Neil could cope with, and he was soon in danger of literally working himself to pieces. A call was sent out to the NWR to see if they could spare an engine to take over, so as to let Neil have a much-needed rest.
It just so happened that the NWR had been loaned a number of WD and USATC engines, and one of these - an S100 called Spike - was duly sent to take over Neil's duties at the Wharf. Neil himself was left in storage, but was occasionally let out on occasions when more than one engine was required. It was assumed that Spike would only be a temporary replacement, but after the War ended, he was taken on permanently, becoming the NWR's #25.
This put paid to any hope of Neil returning to his usual duties - besides which, in those days of post-war austerity, the wharf authorities couldn't spare the money to have him repaired. However, nobody had the heart to just cast Neil aside after so many years of loyal service, so he was placed on static display outside the Wharf offices. This was within sight of the narrow gauge lines into the complex, so Neil was never lonely - he always had passing Skarloey engines to talk to.
Above: Ulfstead Castle and Estate, as it looks in the CGI series - mainly because I felt we were due for another image to break up all this text!
Neil remained on display for forty-odd years, until work began in earnest on the railway museum up at Ulfstead Estate in 1984. The rest of that decade saw the Earl of Sodor making all sorts of upgrades to his estate, and gathering all sorts of interesting artifacts from the history of Sodor's railways.
Among those artifacts were engines, and among those engines was Neil. He was duly purchased by the Earl, and cosmetically restored for display in the museum. This was followed a few years later by a full mechanical restoration - the Earl's policy being for all engines to be restored to working order wherever possible.
Neil has now settled happily into his new career as a heritage engine. Most of the time, he remains on static display in the museum, but he is frequently let out to run trains on the demonstration line. On rare occasions, he even runs special charter trains on NWR metals - particularly his old stomping ground, the route of the old S&MR. Indeed, when we spoke with Neil while researching this article, he was being prepared for a special display at Crovan's Gate, to celebrate sixty years since his appearance in Very Old Engines (which shows how long ago I started writing this thing!).
WELLSWORTH & SUDDERY RAILWAY
The Wellsworth & Suddery Railway was built with the aid of contractor's engines - namely, a pair of Manning Wardle K Class 0-6-0STs. The WSR were pleased with the performance of the two engines, and ended up buying them off the contractors after construction was completed. When the line officially opened in 1870, all traffic was handled by these two engines.
The WSR was keen to get the public onside, and it sold itself as a railway built by Sudrians for Sudrians. One way it did this was to name its engines after figures from Sudrian history - St Luoc (#1) and St Abban (#2) were named after two of the first Christian missionaries to land on Sodor. Both engines were painted in a blue livery, as per the wishes of the WSR's directors and engineers.
Below: St Luoc and St Abban both bear an approximate resemblance to this 1890-built K Class, Portishead, seen here on the Weston, Clevedon & Portishead Railway.
For the first ten years or so, these two saddletanks were deemed quite adequate for the work that was demanded of them - a set number of passenger trains each day, and goods trains run as and when required. As the 1880s dawned, though, traffic began to increase, and it was decided that some extra motive power was in order.
For whatever reason, it was not possible to buy a new engine, and the WSR looked to the second-hand market. As it happened, there was a Sharp Stewart 0-6-0T up for sale - one of a batch of eighteen originally built for the Cornwall Minerals Railway. Eight of these had been sold off by the Great Western Railway when they took over in 1876, and a ninth had somehow ended up back in the hands of its builders.
Below: Treffey, one of the four CMR 0-6-0Ts to carry a name (mispelt, incidentally - there should only be one E). This is how WSR #3 looked when he first arrived on Sodor.
The WSR duly purchased the engine, had a bunker added, and gave him the number 3 and the name St Machan - after another of those Christian missionaries who'd landed on Sodor all those years ago. Unfortunately, it was soon discovered that with his bunker and tanks fully loaded, St Machan was too heavy for the WSR's lightly-laid line. He thus had to run with them only half full - which rather defeated the point of buying an engine with extra fuel and water capacity.
It was not until 1912 that the WSR finally took steps to sort out the issues with St Machan. He was sent back to Sharp Stewart, who removed his bunker and added a tender. Initially, St Machan retained his side tanks, but these were later removed in the WSR's own workshops.
Below: One of the CMR tanks, as rebuilt into a tender engine. This is how St Machan would have looked after he returned from Sharp Stewart, but before the WSR removed his side tanks.
Going back in time a bit, 1904 saw the WSR extending south to Brendam with the intention of establishing a harbour there. Another engine was brought in specifically to help with the construction, and when this was completed, she became the WSR's fourth engine - gaining the name St Tibba.
Below: St Tibba somewhat resembles this 1880-built Robert Stephenson & Co tank. Confusingly, it was also named Portishead, and also worked on the WC&PR - in fact, the Manning Wardle pictured above was actually this engine's replacement!
All four engines were definitely still in active service when the NWR was formed in 1914, and were known to have remained working up to 1919. Unfortunately, that was the last year in which all four were working at once - St Machan was withdrawn that year, and scrapped some time during 1920.
St Luoc and St Abban were both rather worn out by 1919, and it was only possible to keep one of them running. St Luoc ended up being the lucky one, and his lifespan was extended by using St Abban as a source of spare parts. The supply of usable parts dried up by 1926, and St Luoc was withdrawn and scrapped by the end of that year.
St Tibba ended up being the longest-lived of the WSR's engines, flitting around various yards and branch lines over the years. After a couple of spells on the Arlesburgh branch, she wound up back on her old stomping ground - what was now known as the Brendam branch - and was still working there when Edward took over in about 1946/47. Sadly, St Tibba's trail peters out at this point, but she seems to have been either withdrawn or sold into industry. Her history beyond this point is unknown.
TIDMOUTH, KNAPFORD & ELSBRIDGE LIGHT RAILWAY
The Knapford & Elsbridge Railway, as it was known then, originally opened in 1885 as a horse-drawn mineral railway, but when the line was extended around the headland to Tidmouth in 1905, the extra distance was deemed unsuitable for the horses. A steam engine was required, but the mining company was unwilling to put up the cash to buy one, so it fell to A.W.Dry & Co - the engineers who'd originally built the line - to build one themselves.
The task was given to Mr Topham Hatt, a bright young engineer who had a knack for working with whatever he had to hand, even if that didn't amount to much. In this case, what he had was an old portable engine, an even older wagon chassis, and whatever spare parts could be scrounged from an odd corner of the workshop. Young Mr Hatt gritted his teeth, got stuck in, and ultimately came up with...well...something a bit like this:
Above: Normally I'd use a picture without a caption, but I left it in to prove that this...thing is genuine. Make of it what you will.
Believe it or not, this contraption actually worked for a couple of years, until the boiler gave up the ghost in the spring of 1908. By this time, A.W.Dry & Co were beginning to diversify into shipbuilding, and so Topham Hatt was able to 'borrow' a spare donkey engine. He grafted this onto the back of the locomotive, retaining the original horizontal boiler to balance out the weight.
The locomotive had hitherto gone unnamed - it was known simply as Number 1 - but its new vertical boiler gave rise to the nickname Topham's Tea Urn. This nickname lasted until an incident where the engine suddenly coughed up dirty brown water from its boiler - after which it was forever known as The Coffee Pot.
By about 1910, the Coffee Pot was beginning to show its age - it could only go about 6 miles per hour, and its old wagon chassis was struggling to hold two boilers. Topham Hatt was tasked with building a replacement, and this time he had more resources to hand. The result was Glynn, who became the TK&ELR's new #1 (the old Coffee Pot was briefly relegated to standby duties, before being scrapped entirely in 1912).
Below: The sole survivor is TK&ELR #1, Glynn. Certain enthusiasts may note a certain resemblance to the Head Wrightson Type 1 of 1871 - rest assured, this is entirely coincidental!
Glynn proved to be a far superior engine to the old Coffee Pot, and was quickly followed by two more engines of the same design - Innis (#2) and Brynn (#3). All three were painted in a red livery, but this was rarely visible under the layers of grime and dirt - the three engines having inherited their predecessor's unfortunate tendency to cough up dirty brown water. As a result, they also inherited the nickname of Coffee Pots.
The three Coffee Pots passed into the ownership of the NWR upon its formation in 1914, and in 1924 they assisted with the extension of their line to Ffarquhar, and Anopha Quarry beyond. By this time, they were in a less-than-ideal condition, and not really capable of running the newly-extended line on their own.
To this end, Thomas was transferred to take charge of the branch line, with the Coffee Pots being retained for shunting, light freight and other duties. In particular, they handled most of the stone traffic from the new Quarry - although with their limited braking capacity, they occasionally came to grief on the steeply-graded tramroad.
As the Quarry expanded, it began to require engines to shunt its sidings, and it was not unknown for one of the Coffee Pots to be sent up the tramroad. Generally, Thomas would head up to collect the arranged stone trains himself, but if he was busy elsewhere, it would be left to the other two Coffee Pots to bring down the trucks for him (double-heading became common practice on these runs, in a bid to improve braking capacity).
In 1926, this arrangement was formalised when Glyyn was sold to the Ffarquhar Quarry Company, becoming their first dedicated shunter. Innis and Brynn, meanwhile, remained with the NWR, and continued their usual duties of shunting, light freight and the occasional saunter up to the Quarry. As the years went by, though, their importance to the branch line diminished, as more powerful engines became available to help Thomas out.
The war years pushed the Coffee Pots to their limit, and by the beginning of the 1950s, Innis and Brynn had become so worn out that it was deemed more economical to withdraw them from service. Both were sold to the FQC, who intended to use them as a source of spare parts to keep Glynn going. In practice, though, very little could be salvaged, and both were scrapped in 1952.
Below: A side effect of the disposal of Innis and Brynn was that Thomas now had to handle the stone trains on his own. It was during one of these trips that he had his now-famous altercation with the grumpy new constable.
Glynn soldiered on as the last Coffee Pot, but even his own importance was diminished by the arrival of Toby later on in 1951. He was retained as a standby shunter, and even helped show Toby the ropes, but as the decade rolled on, he found himself being used less and less.
Finally, at some point during the late-1950s, Glynn was finally withdrawn from active service, and converted into a stationary boiler at the Quarry. We don't have an exact date for this, but it must have been some time prior to 1962, when Mavis arrived to take his place as quarry shunter. Either way, that's where Glynn remained for the next twenty-odd years...
As mentioned above, the 1980s saw a renaissance in railway preservation on Sodor, with the development of the Ulfstead Railway Museum, and the search for engines of historical interest. This prompted newfound interest in the Coffee Pots, and in the winter of 1987, Glynn was brought out of his boilerhouse at Anopha, and restored to full working order.
Above: Glynn on his first test run following his restoration, on the line leading to Ulfstead Estate. At his controls is Sir Stephen Topham Hatt - grandson of Mr Topham Hatt who originally designed and built the Coffee Pots.
Due to his unusual design, Glynn is popular with enthusiasts, and in great demand for railtours and demonstration runs. A particular favourite event in the museum's calendar is the annual Great Railway Race, in which Glynn and some of his fellow exhibits compete to see who can complete the fastest round trip along one of the demonstration lines.
Of course, there's no real racing involved - none of the competitors can go very fast - but then it's more of an excuse for the old engines to stretch their wheels, have a good natter with their friends, and show off to crowds of enthusiasts. And if any of them should actually win the race? Well, that's just a happy bonus!
What's this? A post that's not a Saturday Movie Night? What fresh hell is this? Why, it's what may technically be described as the only bit of actual Thomas fan fiction I've ever written, that's what.
For context, Series 3 has two episodes revolving around Bill & Ben - One Good Turn and Heroes - and as a kid, I always used to get them mixed up. Way back in ancient times (January 2020, to be precise), I had the idea of taking this mixup to its logical conclusion by writing a story which mashed up the two episodes.
I rediscovered this mashup the other day, and thought it'd be fun to share it with you - not least because today marks the 39th anniversary of Bill & Ben's official debut in the TV series (if you don't count their prior cameos in Percy Takes The Plunge). Find it below the cut:
A SURPRISE FOR BILL & BEN
Written by <feigeroman - real name withheld>
Based on the stories One Good Turn and Heroes
by Andrew Brenner, Britt Allcroft & David Mitton
***
Bill & Ben are two of the most mischievous engines working on the Island of Sodor. They both work at the China Clay Works at the end of Edward's branch line. Sometimes, they take trucks up and down the line that runs from the clay pits to the harbour yard. Most of the time, though, the twins are kept busy pushing and pulling trucks into their proper places at the pits. They enjoy their work, but sometimes it becomes too boring for them, and this is when they start playing tricks on the workmen - or each other. Needless to say, their tricks and teasing ways usually get them into trouble.
***
One day, the twins were busy shunting trucks around the pits as usual. They bustled about all morning, and then stopped for a rest. Bill was filling up with water outside their shed, when Ben puffed up alongside.
"Listen, Bill," he said, "Can you hear something?"
"What sort of something?" Ben asked.
"Something different..." Bill replied, so Ben listened carefully to their surroundings.
"I can't hear anything different." he said at last.
"Exactly!" Bill huffed, "Everything is the same. Sounds the same, looks the same. What we need is a surprise!"
"Surprise what?" Ben asked, but before Bill could answer, they both saw the pit manager walking towards them.
"I've just received a message from the Fat Controller," the pit manager said, "He wants you to go to Edward's Station right away!" With that, the twins set off immediately, out of the clay pits, through the harbour, and up Edward's branch line.
***
"I wonder what we've done wrong this time?" Bill puffed anxiously, as the twins approached Edward's Station.
"It must be you..." Ben suggested.
"Why me?" Bill protested back, "I've not done anything!"
"Well, we'll soon find out..." Ben finished, as they came to a stop in the station platform. The Fat Controller was waiting for them.
"Ah, Bill and Ben, here you are at last," began the Fat Controller, "I hear you're both in need of a change, so I want you to go to the Big Station and look after trucks there. Important goods have arrived, and I'll need you to help the other engines."
"Oh, yes, Sir! Of course!" Bill puffed excitedly.
"We'll do our best, Sir!" Ben added.
"Good," the Fat Controller replied, "I knew I could rely on you two. Off you go!" So the twins set off happily towards the Big Station by the sea, pleased and proud that they'd been given such an important mission.
***
At the Big Station, Edward was resting in the yard as he waited for his next train. Suddenly, he heard a pair of familiar whistles.
"Hmm..." Edward sighed, "Here comes trouble!" Sure enough, Bill & Ben soon peeped into the yard, one on each side.
"Hello, Edward!" Bill said cheekily, "The Fat Controller told us you were tired!"
"Yes," Ben added, "So he wants us to take all your trucks for you!"
"You two never stop, do you?" Edward chuckled, "But I'm wise to your pranks, and we do need your help here..."
"Indeed," Gordon interrupted, coming to a stop alongside Ben, "We're glad to have you helping us, you two, so long as you behave yourselves while you're here. You're not in your little quarry anymore. You're on the Main Line...!"
"Actually, Gordon," Ben giggled, "When we saw you, we thought this was the scrapyard!" And both twins laughed. Gordon was cross.
"Pah!" He snorted, "Just you make sure that my coaches are ready for my evening train tonight!" And Gordon steamed away in a huff.
"Well, I can see you two haven't lost your sense of humour," Edward remarked, "Gordon does have a point, though. The Main Line is very different from the clay pits. You must both take care, especially with the trucks..."
"Oh, don't worry about us, Edward!" Ben interrupted.
"We know all about trucks," Bill continued, "This'll be easy!"
"Suit yourself," Edward conceded, "But just be careful, both of you." With that, Edward puffed away to collect his next train, while Bill & Ben set off to begin work.
***
The twins were soon busy pushing and pulling the trucks into their proper places. There were all sorts of trucks, carrying all sorts of cargo - metal from the foundry, coal from the mines, stone from the quarries, all sorts of goods from the harbours, and even a few trucks of china clay from their own pit. These all had to be shunted into the correct sidings, ready for other engines to take them away, and Bill & Ben worked hard all day, making sure everything was in order.
At last, the day's work was done. Bill & Ben now became excited: As a reward for all their hard work, the yard foreman had said they could each have a go on the turntable. Bill was the first to have his turn, and he rolled onto the turntable. The foreman started to turn the handle, and Bill soon felt himself being turned round.
"This is fun!" He shrieked to Ben. Neither twin had ever had to use a turntable before, but already Bill loved it so much that he didn't want to move off at all. However, the foreman soon stopped the turntable.
"Please make way for the other engines!" the foreman ordered. Bill reluctantly did so, but unfortunately, the foreman had accidentally stopped the turntable in the wrong position. By the time Bill realized he was on the wrong track, it was too late: There was Ben, puffing directly towards him. Both engines braked hard, and finally came to a grinding halt, just a few inches apart. Bill gazed grimly at Ben. Ben gazed grimly at Bill.
"I was here first!" Bill huffed.
"But you're in my way!" Ben protested back, "You'll have to back up again!"
"I won't!"
"You will!"
"I WON'T!"
"YOU WILL!" The twins argued for some time, getting louder and louder, until at last, they were interrupted by a well-known voice...
"SILENCE!" The twins finally stopped arguing, and saw the Fat Controller standing close by, "Bill and Ben, you worked well this afternoon, but if you can't behave while you're here, I shall not allow you here again! Do I make myself clear?" The twins said nothing, but quite understood what the Fat Controller meant. Still staring crossly at each other, both Bill & Ben backed away slowly in opposite directions.
***
Bill & Ben soon went back to work, but they were so cross that they refused to speak to each other for the rest of the day. They tried to work as far apart from each other as they could, and didn't say a word to each other when they had to work together. However, working separately meant their work took longer to do, and both twins started to run late. And the later they got, the crosser they got as well. All the while, Bill grumbled about Ben to anyone who would listen, while Ben grumbled about Bill.
***
That evening, both Gordon and Edward were waiting at the Big Station for Bill & Ben to bring the coaches for their fast night trains. Ben arrived first with Gordon's coaches, and while he was being uncoupled, Bill rolled up alongside with Edward's coaches. The twins still didn't say anything to each other, and as soon as Bill was uncoupled, he scuttled off back to the yard, to get away from Ben. A few minutes later, Gordon set off with his train, and Edward waited for his turn to leave. Soon, Ben came up alongside, still looking very cross.
"Hullo, we are in a mood tonight," Edward said, "What's gotten into you?"
"It's that Bill!" Ben grumbled, "Just imagine, getting in my way on the turntable! Have you ever heard of such a silly engine...?"
"I have heard of two..." Edward sighed.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ben hissed.
"Well, the way I heard it," Edward went on, "It sounded as though you were both to blame."
"Huh!" Ben snorted, "You must have heard it all wrong!"
"Whatever I did hear," Edward continued severely, "I know that all this grumbling is spreading a bad atmosphere through the yard. You and Bill had better be careful, or you'll both end up in even more trouble!" At that moment, the guard blew his whistle, and Edward had to leave. Ben watched as his train set off and rolled into the distance, and then headed back to the yard.
"Hmph, what does that Edward know?" Ben scoffed to himself, "He may be old, but that doesn't mean he knows everything!"
***
The next day, both Bill & Ben were working in the yard, but things were still no better. If anything, they were about to get worse. Not only were the other engines growing fed up with the twins' complaints about each other, but so were the trucks and coaches. They'd found themselves being bumped about more often since the turntable incident, and while the coaches simply complained bitterly about such poor treatment, some of the trucks decided to take action. They shared their plan with some of the other trucks, and by the end of the morning, it'd spread throughout the whole yard...
***
"Oof! OW! No need for that!" An elderly cattle truck groaned, as Bill roughly shunted it into place, "Bill wouldn't be as rough as that...!"
"What are you talking about?" Bill huffed, "I am Bill! And I'm a perfect shunter! Much better than that Ben!"
"Ah, yes, the famous Ben," A tar wagon quipped from the next line along, "I hear you got in his way on the turntable yesterday..."
"More like he got in my way! I've never known such a silly engine!"
"Well, if Ben is so silly," a brake van suggested, "Then it won't be so hard for you to prove how much better than him you are..."
"How do you mean?" Bill asked suspiciously.
"What I mean is, seeing as you're new to this yard, perhaps we could help show you around. After all, we've all been in and out of this yard more times than you can possibly imagine..."
"Well, I don't know. I've heard how troublesome you lot can be..."
"We only want to help, you know," the brake van replied, sounding hurt, "We want to help you do a much better job than this Ben ever could, and much quicker, too!"
"Hmm..." Bill mused, "Well, since you put it like that, I'd be glad to have your help, if it'll teach Ben a lesson! What do you want me to do first...?" So the trucks told him, and he listened...
***
What Bill didn't know - but the trucks did - was that over at the other end of the yard, Ben had just had an identical conversation with some of the other trucks, and they'd offered to help out by showing him around. Both twins worked on their own, according to the trucks' instructions, and at first, it looked like everything was going well.
It was not until evening came, however, that the twins realized just why the trucks had been telling them where to put things. By then, of course, it was too late: the yard was in a terrible muddle, with trucks and coaches in all the wrong places, and cross engines stuck at the far end, trying to fetch trains that weren't ready for them. And in the middle of it all were Bill & Ben, who felt very exhausted, and very silly indeed.
***
The twins took so long trying to sort things out that they were late bringing the coaches for Gordon and Edward's evening trains. The passengers waited impatiently on the platforms, until at long last, Bill arrived with Gordon's coaches, and Ben arrived with Edward's. Everyone worked as fast as they could, but even so, by the time Gordon was able to leave, it was very late indeed. It was later still before Edward could follow on, but just before he did so, he gave a stern look to both Bill & Ben. They knew exactly what this meant - they were sure to be in deep trouble now...
***
...And indeed they were. The next morning, the Fat Controller spoke severely to the twins, and sent them back to the China Clay Works in disgrace. Both twins were still cross at each other, not just over the turntable incident, but also over everything that'd happened the following day. It didn't help that when they arrived back at the clay pits, their manager spoke severely to them as well, and sent them to their shed until he could trust them to behave again.
***
A few days later, Bill & Ben were back at work, busily preparing empty trucks to be loaded and then taken to the harbour. The twins were still not speaking to each other, and shunted their trucks in silence. As they were finishing up, however, Ben suddenly spoke up.
"Listen, Bill!" He hissed, "I can hear something...!"
"Oh, yes?" Bill began bitterly, "Something different, I suppose...?" He then stopped suddenly, "...Actually...Yes, I can hear something as well..."
"A sort of deep rumbling noise, right?"
"Right. That is strange..." By now, both twins were beginning to forget they were cross, and growing worried instead, "I've never heard a noise like that before, have you, Ben?"
"No, I haven't, Bill..."
"I have," Bill's driver whispered nervously, "It sounds like a rockslide to me..." Before either of the twins could say anything else, they were interrupted by the sound of an emergency alarm blaring across the pits. Moments later, they heard the pit manager's voice as well.
"DANGER! CLEAR THE AREA!" The manager shouted, and in no time at all, workmen were scrambling into Bill and Ben's empty trucks. Rocks started to tumble down onto the tracks and buildings behind them. Now the twins had completely forgotten about being cross with each other, and instead worried about getting everyone out in time.
"Thank goodness we're here!" Bill gasped. He waited until as many workmen as possible had climbed into his trucks, and then he set off. Once Ben's trucks were full as well, he started to puff away from the disaster area as well - but then he stopped when he heard a voice.
"HELP! Wait for me!" The pit manager had nearly been left behind, and Ben waited while he was lifted into the rear truck by the other workmen. Once he was sure everyone was safely aboard, Ben set off again, and followed Bill out of the pits.
They were just in time. The force of the rockslide knocked over one of the china clay hoppers, and sent it crashing down on top of Bill & Ben's shed. Then a huge rock came crashing down, and completely demolished the manager's office building. The resulting shockwave immediately set off rockslides elsewhere in the pits, and one of these sent more huge boulders smashing straight through the bottom of the large water tower, knocking it over and sending water flying everywhere.
Then, as suddenly as they'd started, the rockslides all stopped.
The silence that followed was amazing.
***
"Oh, dear," Bill whispered, as the twins surveyed the scene of destruction, "This wasn't our fault..."
"I know that, and you know that," Ben agreed, "The only thing is, will the Fat Controller understand...?"
"I certainly hope so..."
***
...And indeed he did. The next day, Edward arrived with the breakdown train to help start the cleanup. The Fat Controller was onboard, and he spoke to the pit manager and the workmen. Then he turned to the twins.
"Well, Bill and Ben," he began, "You still have a lot to learn about trucks, don't you?"
"Er, yes, Sir..." The twins replied meekly.
"But despite your, ahem, misunderstanding with the turntable, you were able to work together, and act bravely and quickly in an emergency. I'm very proud of you both, and so is your manager."
"Indeed I am," the pit manager agreed, "Without your help, our men might not have been so lucky. So, three cheers for Bill & Ben, our heroes! Hip-hip..."
"Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!" The workmen shouted.
"Oh, thank you, Sirs!" Bill said happily, "Being called heroes is, well..."
"It's a really nice surprise!" Ben laughed.
***
As their shed had been destroyed in the rockslide, Bill & Ben had to sleep elsewhere while they helped clear up the mess. Most of the time, they stayed in one of the sheds at the harbour station, but sometimes they would take trucks up to Edward's Station, and sleep there over night. One night, Edward was in his shed when the twins steamed in next to him.
"Busy day?" Edward asked kindly, seeing how tired the twins looked.
"Busy day," Ben replied, paused, and then said, "Er, Bill? About all that nonsense with the turntable...?"
"It's alright," Bill replied, "It was my fault. I'm sorry."
"Oh, no, I'm sorry..."
"No, I'm sorry...!" Bill insisted.
"Alright, you two!" Edward cut in, "No need to have another row over who's sorry! Just be glad you're friends again. And do you know what friends do?"
"No, what?" The twins squeaked excitedly.
"They always say goodnight to each other!"
And so they did. But they still chattered about turntables and trucks, all night long!
