The Marriage Certificate (16 page)

Albert Wallis glanced back down the
length of the train as the guard walked away, and observed a group of four
wealthy-looking men advancing along the platform towards him. One in particular
appeared to be in command, and when the group came alongside the footplate, it
was he who spoke, asking if he could climb up into the cab. Albert recognised
his American accent. He thought it was an unusual request but nodded his
assent. Once up on the footplate, the American introduced himself.

‘Hello, driver, my name is James Silverman. This sure is an
impressive engine you have here. Tell me, what speed can she do?’

‘We’ll probably touch sixty-five on the run today, sir. She
could go faster, but we have to stick to the timetable you know.’

‘Yes, I know there’s a timetable, but we’ve got one too,’ he
said pointing back to his friends gathered on the platform below. ‘We’ve missed
the earlier nine-thirty express due to a mix-up by our cabbie over which
station we were going to. It’s confusing, you know, having more than one
station here in London named Waterloo.’

‘Yes, sir, I agree it is … bit of a music hall joke that
one.’

‘Sure, well, the thing is, we might miss our boat today if
we don’t get a move on and get down to Southampton as soon as possible … if you
get my drift.’

‘I have to stick to the timetable, sir. It’s against company
regulations to arrive before time.’

‘Sure, but what if I made it worth your while? We think you
only need to get us there a couple of minutes before schedule. We should just
make it if you can. If we miss our boat, then we could be stuck in England for
several more days …’

Albert turned to the fireman. ‘Edwin, jump down and check
the couplings will you? All the way back to the brake van, and don’t forget to
look for any broken axles on the coaching stock.’

Edwin left the cab as instructed. Meanwhile, the American
gentleman put his hand in his pocket and brought out a cylindrical silver case,
from which he extracted two gleaming gold sovereigns. ‘Is this worth a couple
of minutes?’ he asked.

‘I’m sure it might make a difference,’ replied Albert as he
pocketed the money. ‘Rest assured, I’ll get you down to Southampton ahead of
schedule.’

‘Excellent driver, excellent … let’s see what she can do,
eh?’

‘I’ll do my best, sir.’

With that, the smiling gentleman carefully climbed down to
the platform to receive congratulations and a series of hearty slaps on the
back at the success of his mission. They turned, laughing and talking with
excitement as they walked away towards the first-class carriage at the far end
of the train. Albert watched them join a group of well-dressed ladies, who were
waiting expectantly for news of whether the attempt to persuade the driver to
make haste had been a success.

At eleven o’clock precisely, with the last of the carriage doors
shut, the guard blew his whistle and waved aloft his green flag. This was his
signal to Albert Wallis, driver of the Waterloo to Southampton express, that
all was in order and that the train was secured for the journey.

On the footplate, Albert opened the regulator, allowing the
steam to enter the cylinders, forcing back the pistons and providing power to
the four driving wheels. The huge engine weighing over eighty tons began to
move, slowly at first, but with gathering momentum.

The train rattled and swayed slightly as it passed over a
complicated series of points located just outside of the station, crossing
connections to sidings and other platforms, before being channelled through to
the Southampton track, which consisted of two lines. Before long, they passed a
train coming towards them on the up line, the London-bound line. Although the
express was not yet up to full speed, the combined closing speed of the two
trains was still in the order of nearly ninety miles per hour. The drivers blew
their whistles as they passed each other, a polite acknowledgement of their
camaraderie and acquaintance.

The earlier rain that morning had disappeared and as the
train gathered more speed, heading south-west, a little blue sky was showing in
the distance. There was only one scheduled stop on the journey, at Basingstoke,
approximately fifty miles away. Edwin shovelled coal continually into the
firebox, maintaining the heat and the steam pressure, as the locomotive settled
into its rhythm.

Timings were very important. The guard in the brake van
noted the timings throughout the journey. In addition, each signal box they
reached logged their passing. At the stations they went through, Albert knew
that the station inspector, the parcel porters and the yard foreman would all
be glancing at their watches, checking the time. Time was all-important on the
railway. It governed everything and woe betides anyone who ignored its
all-encompassing influence.

Albert patted his inside pocket and felt the outline of the
gold coins secreted safely out of harm’s way. He had caught on quickly to what
the American wanted and that some kind of gratuity was likely to be offered. He
had been right to send Edwin back to check the couplings. No witnesses to his
little deal, that’s how he liked it. Obviously, accepting a bribe, or gratuity,
as he preferred to think of it, was completely against regulations, but who
would know? What pleased him even more was that he was confident that he could
arrive two minutes ahead of schedule and get away with it. He hadn’t been
called before the traffic superintendent for more than two years. His record on
time keeping was good. He had the perfect excuse. If he found himself facing
questions, he would blame his early arrival on his inexperience with the new
engine. After all, the engine had no indicator of speed. Judging speed was
subjective. They were guided by the need to match the timings at particular
points on the journey, but it was not easy to be precise to the half-minute. On
any given trip, they could lose time, which meant later on, they needed to make
up time. There were ways and means, and the company largely left the means to
the competence of their drivers, stipulating of course, that safety remained of
paramount importance.

Passing the signal box one mile east of Basingstoke, Albert
closed the regulator and the train started to slow down. Shortly after, they
drew alongside the platform at Basingstoke station, where a handful of
passengers was waiting to embark.

‘Not many passengers today, Edwin,’ commented Albert. ‘Most
of them must have caught the earlier express. Still, I’m sure we’ll be full on
the return this afternoon.’

They were one minute ahead of schedule; just right, Albert
figured, to show that his inexperience in judging the speed of the new engine
was apparent throughout the whole journey. As they waited at the platform, the
stationmaster walked briskly towards Albert. He climbed up onto the footplate.

‘Just had a message from Micheldever. Some sheep have
strayed onto the embankment. They’ve found the farmer to round them up, but be
prepared to slow down if required.’

‘Right-oh,’ replied
Albert.
Damn!
he thought.
Let’s just hope we don’t get delayed
.

The guard on the platform blew his whistle and waved the
green flag. Albert released the brake and let out the regulator once more. The
locomotive crept forward and started to pick up speed. The weather was
definitely clearing from the west, with the promise of a sunny afternoon.

They had covered eight miles, gained more time, and almost
reached Micheldever when they spotted the distant-signal in the ‘Stop’
position. As they passed it, Albert shut down the steam and applied the brakes
– not too forcibly, for this was not an emergency – just enough to slow the
train, if they needed to halt at the next signal. Albert looked ahead and was
disappointed to see that it too was in the ‘Stop’ position. He brought the
locomotive to a halt just before it. They waited no more than one minute, but
it seemed an eternity. Albert looked back along the train and could see several
heads from the first-class carriage sticking out, looking anxiously forward in
his direction, trying to determine the reason for the delay.

Suddenly, the signal’s semaphore indicator clanked downward
into the ‘Go’ position. Within seconds, they were moving forward and gathering
pace once more. Albert considered his options, and where he might make up some
time. He decided his best chance would be at Dunley Bottom. This was situated
at the foot of a long, shallow decline of a mile in length. Dunley Bottom
itself consisted of a sharper than usual left-hand curve, before the line
straightened into a steep half-mile incline out of the ‘bottom’. There was a
speed restriction of thirty miles per hour through the curve. All the drivers
were aware of this, as they were periodically reminded in notices, which they
had to read and sign.

Past experience told Albert that he could negotiate the
curve at almost forty miles per hour, without a problem. The speed limit was
far too low. If he could go through Dunley Bottom at forty-five miles per hour,
it would give him greater speed to tackle the incline on the other side. If he
judged the deceleration and the acceleration correctly, he was sure he could
make up at least a minute. One mile out, they crested the ridge. He cut back
the power and they started down the shallow gradient towards the curve at the
bottom. Half a mile further on, he applied some gentle braking, aiming to take
off about fifteen to twenty miles per hour from their speed.

Looking ahead, Albert could clearly see the left-hand curve
at Dunley Bottom. He also noticed steam rising from the cutting leading down
towards it, on the other side. This indicated the approach of a train on the up
line. At the bottom of the gradient, just before the curve, Albert released the
brakes and opened the regulator to full power. The couplings took up the slack,
as the locomotive’s influence changed from braking to pulling the train once
more. Halfway through the curve, the smoothness of the track was interrupted by
two sets of points, where sidings led to a chalk quarry. The two trains
converged and the engines passed each other. They whistled a greeting. The
other train was a goods train, consisting of flat-bed wagons loaded with wooden
barrels. Albert could see it stretching back two hundred yards through the bend
ahead of him.

As Albert’s speeding engine crossed the first set of points,
the jolt unbalanced it and it started to lean to the right, tilting awkwardly
towards the goods train. For a second, Albert’s engine hung in equilibrium,
then its continued acceleration pushed it beyond salvation and it heeled over
against the wagons travelling in the opposite direction. There was a sickening
tearing sound, as metal tore through metal. The Southampton-bound locomotive,
with Albert and Edwin at the controls, left the rails completely and instead of
turning with the curve, continued straight ahead, cutting the goods train in
two and partly compressing both itself and several wagons in a head-on
collision.

Albert and Edwin were killed instantly. The first coach –
the leading second-class carriage – concertinaed itself against the engine’s
coal tender.

The second coach broke its couplings and slewed sideways
onto the up line. The passenger body, unlike the steel chassis, was made of
wood. The sides splintered and the glass in the windows shattered. As it came
to rest, several barrels from the goods train that had been catapulted into the
air by the force of the impact, rained down upon it. The barrels contained
paraffin oil, destined for the lights and fires of London. They split on
landing and paraffin liquid was splashed extensively over the interior of the
carriage. The unfortunate passengers inside had no chance. Those not killed by
the force of the collision were enveloped in a fireball of burning vapour as a
spark, possibly from the gas lighting, ignited the paraffin.

Passengers in the third coach suffered the least injury,
because it slid sideways past the stricken second coach. However, those in the
fourth and final coach – the first-class carriage – were less fortunate. It came
off the track and slid down the embankment, before being struck from above by
the kitchen and brake van, which weighed twenty-three tons. Unfortunately, it
ripped into the roof of the first-class carriage causing many fatalities.

The driver of the goods train had noticed the excessive
speed of the express. He looked anxiously back down the curve, after Albert had
passed him. He saw the funnel of the express rise in the air as it made impact
with the last few wagons of his own train. He felt the jolt and his coupling to
the leading wagon break, releasing his engine from its load. He then had the
dilemma of whether to stop and offer assistance, or whether to take advantage
of the loss of his wagons and the opportunity to go at full speed to the next
signal box, in order to raise the alarm. He chose the latter option. It was the
right decision, but as he looked back, he and his fireman were horrified to see
flames and a pall of black smoke rising from the collision.

‘God knows whether Walter has survived back in the guard’s
van!’ he exclaimed. ‘I just hope that he has!’

Two weeks later, Colonel
Fothergill, of the Board of Trade, Railway Department, published his findings
into the circumstances surrounding the disastrous accident to a passenger
train, which occurred about 12.13 pm on 17 October 1902, at Dunley Bottom, on
the London and South West Railway. Extracts from his report read as follows:

In this case, the second daily
express from London Waterloo to Southampton was travelling through Dunley
Bottom on the down line, when the engine and coaches left the rails and came
into violent contact with a goods train, which was moving in the opposite
direction on the up line, causing the death of 14 persons.