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Passing Pacifics

An excerpt from an interview with Sir Charles Topham Hatt II in 1987:

Often I would accompany my father on walks down to Wellsworth Station. Around mid-day, if they were running to time, two trains – one going down the hill towards Tidmouth, the other going up – would pass each other by the road bridge over the mainline. The train coming from Vicarstown was usually hauled by Gordon, while the one heading for Vicarstown would be hauled by Henry.

As originally built, Henry gave my father endless trouble. The North Western’s first ‘Pacific’ type locomotive, his origins are shrouded in mystery, as he was purchased from a builder whose name my father stubbornly took to his grave, so badly slighted he felt he had been. Faults quickly emerged and Henry proved to be a very poor steamer, until he was eventually rebuilt at Crewe as a two-cylinder, 4-6-0. He has since provided continually good service.

In contrast, Gordon was, and still is, strong and reliable. If we failed to see the two trains pass, it was invariably because Gordon was on time and Henry was running late! Though Gordon still managed to test my father’s patience in other ways regardless. In fact, he and Henry could be said to have contributed almost entirely to my father’s general dislike of big engines overall!

……

Decided to try and draw a scene from the early days of the North Western Railway. Charles Hatt’s remarks are based on an excerpt from The Thomas the Tank Engine Man by Brian Sibley, of Wilbert Awdry recounting one of his own memories of living close to Box Tunnel on the Great Western’s mainline.

“We used to have lunch at about one o’clock. At about 12.40, if they were running to time, two trains – one going down the hill towards Bath and Bristol, the other coming up – would pass each other by the London side of the Middle Hill tunnel. The train coming down from Paddington would be hauled by ‘St Bartholomew’, while the one heading for Paddington would be hauled by ‘The Great Bear’.”

“Father had a low opinion of ‘The Great Bear’. The first ‘Pacific’ type locomotive, it was the largest engine to have been built in Britain and was designed simply to show what the Great Western could do. Faults quickly emerged and it was never really satisfactory – in fact, it was eventually rebuilt as a four-cylinder, 4-6-0."

"In contrast, Father was very fond of the free-running ‘Saint Class’ which was utterly reliable. If we failed to see the two trains pass, it was invariably because ‘St Bartholomew’ was on time and ‘The Great Bear’ was running late!”

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HOLY SHITTTTT

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new story!

The North Western in 1940; a series of vignettes.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63856345

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Skarloey wallpaper for @traintrainingmontage!

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1945

The new engine sat just outside the shed.

Amidst the dreary, weather-beaten yard, her smart green paint with yellow stripes glowed like sunshine.

She glanced over curiously at a tank engine shunting nearby.

The tank engine looked enviously back at her, and coughed wearily as he rolled by.

In a sea of austere and soot-stained black, she stood out like a sore thumb.

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In which we lookit Thomas goooooo! ⬅️🚂💨👀

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X

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"Hurry up with those trucks" puffed Emily. "I'm not about to be late because of your dawdling".

"Is this even your train?" wheeshed Thomas. "I thought you were the Director's private engine".

Emily sneered, and blew steam at him. "I can do more than just drag around a stuffy old inspection saloon all day. Now get a move on so I can prove it".

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Bonk

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I am a unstoppable and that's a bad thing.

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He must have been bitching the entire time

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Out With The Old

The great pacific stood in the center of the works. Parts were laid about on the floor, and pieces of his sleek, streamlined cladding had been removed.

His eyes scanned the room, a haughty, judgemental look to them as he watched the men carrying out his restoration.

He had high standards, and he expected them to be met.

His new owners were a duke and duchess after all. Though even if they hadn’t been, the big express engine considered himself to be no less than nobility regardless.

Still, even as he demanded perfection, his impatience with the proceedings grew.

Gresley’s finest was never meant to be seen in such an unkempt state after all.

He shuddered at the thought, though he tried to hide it.

As he mulled over what work was left to be done, his attention was drawn to the opening of one of the side doors to the shop floor. A man stepped into the room, carrying a wrapped bundle of objects, which the engine assumed were tools, or perhaps some new parts.

He recognized the man as the one the Duke and Duchess had hired to oversee his restoration.

The big engine judged him to be suitable enough for the task. He did indeed have a keen eye for details, and thoroughly knew his way around engines.

He had however, once worked as a steam mechanic for the National Coal Board, and the express engine balked at the idea of being treated like one of the grubby industrials the man was familiar with. Especially as he seemed to still hold an inexplicable fondness for the… what were they called?... Austerities which had been his previous patients.

Still though, he was good at what he did, and the big engine was satisfied to see that the man was smart enough to give his current project the respect a Streak deserved.

“Morning Old Boy,” the man said cheerily.

The engine yawned dismissively, but he still managed to respond with some grace.

“Good morning Sir”. He eyed the long bundle being carried over the man’s shoulder. “What have you got there?”

“Well, that’s just what I came here to show you”. The man was beaming. Clearly he was excited about whatever it was he had brought, and expected the streak to be enthused as well.

The big engine watched as the objects were placed on the ground in front of him, and the cloth wrapping was removed.

His eyes went wide.

Placed before him were a pair of shining brass nameplates.

His nameplates.

“It took some effort,” said the man, evidently proud of the fact, “But we managed to find these at last. I gave them a good polish. Figured you’d-”

“Get rid of them!”

The man blinked, stunned into silence for a few moments. “I… I’m sorry?” he said at last.

“You heard me” The big engine huffed. Don’t question me, just do it. “Get rid of them”.

The man was puzzled. He couldn’t understand what he had just heard, but the big engine's angry scowl told him he ought to figure it out quickly.

“Are you… su-”

“That engine is gone” hissed the pacific. He was a failure. He was cast aside and forgotten. “I am not him”.

The man stared at him. “R-right” he stammered, “Well… What do you want me to do with these then?”

The engine glared at him. Despite not being in steam, the man swore he could see fire glowing behind his eyes.

“Throw them out, run them over, I don’t care. Just get rid of them!” The big engine scanned his surroundings, until his sight landed on something at the other end of the workshop.

“Actually…” he said slowly, “You see that smelting pot? Toss them in there”.

The man balked at this request. “Wha… Even if you don’t want them, these are still valuable artif-”

“I want them Destroyed!” The pacific bellowed with furry. Don’t make me tell you again.

The man stuttered for a bit longer, trying to find his voice. But the furious glare of the massive engine towering over him made it clear that there would be no arguments.

Eventually, he gave in, and walked slowly towards the red hot, boiling smelting pot. The big engine's eyes remained locked on him the whole way.

The man gave a heavy sigh. Then, he hefted the still gleaming nameplates into the pot.

The big engine watched, his face creased in anger, as flames leapt up from the bubbling mass, the shining plates sinking slowly into the molten, swirling metals of the giant cauldron.

He didn’t look away until the once magnificent nameplates had been fully submerged and melted away into nothing.

Once that was done… He smiled.

“So…” the man sighed, “I suppose we’ll have to give you a new name then”.

The engine hardly bothered to look at him. He was too engrossed in his own mind, a deep feeling of satisfaction washing over him.

“I’ll get back to you on that” he said, with a slight chuckle. “We’ll workshop something suitable I’m sure”.

A month later, the streamlined pacific had his new name.

He beamed as the freshly cast plates were bolted to his side. They glistened marvelously in the sunlight, practically glowed even, and they complimented his new silver paint immaculately.

Their lettering spelled out for all the world the new name of Gresley’s finest.

‘Spencer’.

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Henry The Green Engine 5: Just As Good As Gordon

Written By: SparkArrester

When Henry returned from Crewe, all the engines were happy to see their friend again. The other big engines especially liked not having to cover his work. In fact, Henry was so capable in his new shape that he was able to lessen their workload. James was especially thankful for less goods work. Gordon, however, found himself becoming jealous.

“Henry’s quite… chipper, these days.” He said to James one morning.

“Yep, that holiday at Crewe really did wonders!” James replied, “He can properly pull his own weight now, and even take a load off of engines like me!”

“Yes, well-”

“Besides,” Continued James absent-mindedly, “I heard he’s set new timings for that fish train of his. I wonder if he’ll work his way up to the express…”

“Pah! I doubt it!” Gordon harrumphed, “Little Henry’s rebuild is all well and good, but there’s still only one engine that’s big enough and strong enough for the express! And that’s me!”

Without another word, he puffed off to do just that.

“What is this?!” Exclaimed Gordon as he came up to the platform.

There was Henry, at the head of the express! He was sizzling happily as he waited for the guard. Gordon was about to tell him off when he saw the Fat Controller walking towards him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner,” He began, “But Henry shall be taking the express for the rest of the day.”

“What?! But why?!”

“Well, Henry’s fast timings on the Kipper have proved he can keep up with the express, and he deserves it after working so hard. I’ve arranged for you to cover his work for the rest of the day. Is that alright with you?”

“Yes sir…” Grunted Gordon.

Gordon took Henry’s goods trains for the rest of the day, grumbling all the while. Henry, happy to be pulling the express, took no notice.

He did notice that night, when Gordon trudged into the sheds and made his grievances known.

“You spend all winter getting pampered at Crewe, and then immediately coming back and taking the most prestigious jobs, it’s disgraceful!”

“It’s not disgraceful at all!” Countered Henry, “Today was just a trial! And it went well, in case you were wondering…”

“That’s all very impressive Henry, but it’s unnecessary. I’ll always be here to pull the express! I appreciate the effort, but it’s best you stick to your ‘Kipper’.”

“Well I don’t know about that! The Fat Controller seemed plenty impressed with me. Maybe I’ll take the express more often!”

“That,” Said Gordon, “Remains to be seen.”

And he grumpily went to sleep.

His mood didn’t improve the next morning. He simmered impatiently as his fire was lit and his tender was filled.

“I’ll show Henry that there’s only one engine for the express!” He thought to himself as he collected his train.

It was longer than usual, filled with visitors that wanted to see the beautiful beaches and lovely spring flowers. Gordon didn’t care, and ran harder than he had in a while.

“Must be on time, must be early!” He said as he rocketed down the line.

His crew tried to ease him off, but that made him even more defiant as he sped across the rails and made it to the other end of the line. He was uncoupled from his train, turned around, and refueled. He was ready to leave when his driver got out.

“Come on, Come on!” Snorted Gordon, “The express is waiting!”

“Just doing a routine inspection.” Replied the Driver.

“We can do that later!”

The driver tried to inspect Gordon, but he let off so much steam that he couldn’t see anything, and gave up in the end. Gordon felt pleased as he backed down on the express.

This continued for the rest of the day. Gordon was pleased with himself as he arrived early every time, but he was setting himself up for trouble. Most engines have only two cylinders, but Gordon had three; two on the outside and one inside. While this makes him the strongest engine on The Fat Controller’s railway, it also makes him the most sensitive to poor maintenance, especially in his inside cylinder and motion. Gordon should have known this, and let his crew inspect him, but he was so jealous of Henry that he forgot. Eventually, Gordon backed down to the last express of the day. He barreled down the line as his paint shone against the setting sun.

“Early every time!” He chortled, “That’s one in the headlamp for Henry!”

That train of thought was interrupted by a crack and a terrible grinding noise.

“Woooooooosh!” Exclaimed Gordon, “Stop! Stop!”

His crew brought the train to a halt and inspected the damage. It didn’t take long to see the problem.

“You’ve damaged your inside motion!” Scowled the Driver, “This is why we inspect before taking out a train, you silly engine!”

Gordon stared at the sleepers in shame.

He was roused from his stupor when he heard a whistle. Henry was passing by with a goods train. He was flagged down and was told of the situation. Quickly, he left his trucks at the next station and ran back to fetch Gordon.

“Don’t worry!” He said, “I might not be as fast as you, but I’ll certainly make up the time!”

Gordon was silent as Henry, with much snorting, started the train. As they got up to speed, Gordon spoke.

“My behavior was most unbecoming…” He whispered, “I feel rather low. You are a good engine for the express, Henry. You're almost as good as me…”

“Don’t mention it.” Replied Henry, knowingly.

They arrived at the big station, only 5 minutes late. The Fat Controller, who had been told of the incident, waited for them.

“I’m disappointed Gordon!” Scolded The Fat Controller, “You know how important maintenance is!”

“Yes sir…” Whimpered Gordon.

“Even so,” Continued The Fat Controller, “That middle cylinder of yours has been playing up more and more lately. Perhaps you might be in for a rebuild of your own…”

Gordon and Henry raised their eyebrows.

 “Anyways, you may take Henry’s goods trains while he takes the express.” He finished.

“Oh, Thank You sir!” Smiled Henry.

Now, Henry and Gordon are good friends once again. When Gordon is tired or needs repairs, Henry is always there to assist. James complains of the competition for the express, but we all know he’d never incur Henry’s ire, lest he can back his goods trains! 

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The

Edward

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I reckon Nobby was surprised The Fat Director even bothered in the first place. Maybe he knew how angry he was at being swindled (and probably took some joy in that!) and reckoned he'd scrap Henry in a heartbeat, even after the special coal business. Why you'd import special coal just for that elephant is beyond him.

So the shock that Henry was rebuilt instead would be big. Maybe that proves to Nobby that there are still directors that look after their engines?

Maybe Nobby and Henry even share the joy of grumbling about anything and anyone whenever he arrives at Barrow, I know one big engine that might get on both of their nerves...

The whole "He's not useful/isn't useful anymore so he probably isn't really worth caring about" thing seems like a common sentiment in the Big 4 era that slowly unravels during BR days.

Henry also being like "I understand you now!!!!!!!!! I know what you're going through and you're not alone!!!!!!!!!" and Coppernob hating it is funny. He doesn't want to be understood, or psychoanalyzed by the Jank pacific with 20 diseases.

I'm curious if Nobby & Henry had any interesting interactions or if he just ignored the jank pacific with 20 diseases lol

The short version is as you say: At first Coppernob barely gives a thought to Henry. It's 1922, the F.R. is staring down the barrel of Grouping, and as a clown-studded sideshow the No-Where Railway keeps scrounging up these absurdly-large track-deforming monster engines from Lady-knows-where. And then (because beggars can be choosers, apparently?) they keep chucking some back. Whatever! Nobby has seen the value placed on engine life plummet over the last decade, so in all this chaos Jank Pacific With 20 Diseases surely won't last long. Sad, but not Coppernob's problem. He has enough of his own to take care of, remember he already chaplains a minimum of 5 engines each year on their deathbed. He's certainly not going to get attached to this sickly stray. This isn't like E2106, who had value. The green elephant is not a Useful Engine and we all know what happens to those.  

So, funnily enough, this relationship begins on Henry's initiative. Cos after being let out of the tunnel, with his whole new perspective on life, he starts coming into Barrow (sometimes. he's not on the express very often, of course) and looking on Coppernob with new eyes. Like "... oh wow. we're the same, this incredibly ancient haughty old relic and i. i, too, know what it is, to be stuck watching everyone else pass. everyone else have a life. and to be all alone as a spectacle." Not that Henry ever says it, but it's abundantly clear he's thinking it – and Nobby HATES. IT. Nothing in all the world he hates so much as pity. He grows wroth. Just spittingly sarcastic. Whelp, Henry is a real and no mere shadow engine to him now – an engine he criticizes specially at every opportunity! But the more Coppernob reams him out, the more Henry just looks on him with eyes that are clearly thinking "Poor old fellow, of course he's grouchy. I Understand." and obviously that infuriates Nobby even more. 

Luckily Henry doesn't come into Barrow THAT OFTEN. Otherwise Coppernob might have exploded long before that bomb could get to him lmao. 

It really says a lot about how just absolute shite Henry's life was during the '20s that Nobby never succeeds in putting him off. Like Coppernob never upbraids him for being an ill-built failure. That's one thing. He'll criticize Henry to death but he doesn't insult him and to Henry, sensitive though he is on some points, it's really quite refreshing that Coppernob never starts from the assumption that Henry is lazy or slack. Also there's, like, one (1) time when Nobby told off a couple other engines at the station who were having a go at him and Nobby really mostly did it more because he despised them than because he gave a damn about Henry, he literally forgot about it ten minutes later. But for the rest of his life Henry's like "damn, he's a patron and a gentleman. I'll never forget that." 

Look, the bar for being nice to Henry I was so bloody low. 

But Henry also got the chance to inadvertently boost Coppernob in return. Coz the Flying Kipper wreck, see. Spoiler alert, but Coppernob spent 1930-1935 sinking into a deep depression as the LMS shifted into high gear wiping out the ex-Furness engines. There was a year there towards the end when he was nearly silent. What was the point. What did anything matter. The engine from the tunnel was in a devastating derailment? They're sending him to Crewe? Wellll that sucks. Everything sucks. R.I.P. 

Nobby's so lost in the brain fog that it takes him a while to process what he saw, when he witnesses Henry's return that spring. Henry blows through en route to the island and everyone's like "who's THAT? that isn't...?" and it takes a solid 5 minutes for Nobby to blink his way to grasping the question and another 5 to realize the significance of what he just saw. 

The green elephant, sent to an LMS workshop as wreckage. Returning in hale and hearty triumph. 

For the first time in three years, Coppernob is heard to give a rusty laugh. 

And he laughs, and he laughs. And he laughs. 

Maybe, even now, even when the world seems hopeless… maybe senseless tragedy doesn't always win.

(Nobby's perfectly composed, of course, when a mere two days later Henry brings his first express to Barrow. The wind warning signal on Ab Hawin Viaduct held them up 15 minutes, so Henry is three minutes late. Coppernob is perfectly grim when he tsks Henry over his time… but maybe there's just a bit of a twinkle in his eye, when Henry splutters protest.)

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Henry The Green Engine 4: The Flying Kipper

Written By: Rev. W. Awdry

Adapted By: SparkArrester

There is a large harbor next to the big station, where ships from all over arrive. There are big liners and ferries with shining paint and spotless brass, carrying passengers from far away places. There are freight ships as well, coming and going with cargo and the things we need. There are many fishing boats besides those, that unload their catch at special quays. Some are taken by road to shops in the town, while the rest are loaded on a train and taken away.

The railwaymen call this train, “The Flying Kipper”.

Henry was still dour from the accident with Percy and the trousers. Luckily, no jam had gotten on him, but the trousers still felt uncomfortable on his funnel. Worse still, he had made the Fat Controller cross.

“Never mind Henry,” Comforted his Driver, “A nice run with the Flying Kipper ought to cheer us all up! The Fat Controller might even forgive you!”

“Really?” Replied Henry Dubiously.

“Yep! Now, don’t tell Gordon,” And he leaned in close, “But I think we might even have a turn on the express!”

That cheered Henry up. His mood began to improve as he left the sheds and puffed towards the harbor.

At the quay, he saw workmen loading crates onto a long line of fish vans. There was ice and frost, far more than in the morning.

“Be careful!”, Called a workman, “This ice can be trouble!”

“Don’t I know it…” Grumbled Henry, staring at the soot-covered trousers that clung to his funnel.

 But he remembered what his driver said and calmed down as the last door banged and the guard showed his green lamp. With much snorting and whooshing, Henry set off with the heavy train.

“Come on! Come on! Come on!” Puffed Henry as his wheels spun on.

“All right! Don’t fuss! All right! Don’t fuss!” Grumbled the fish vans.

“That’s better! That’s better!” Puffed Henry, as they left the harbor and picked up speed.

They tore through the countryside, whooshed under bridges and clattered through stations. Thick clouds of smoke and steam poured out of Henry’s funnel as they went, and when the fireman added more coal, the fire’s light shone all around, reflecting on the snow.

“Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!” Peeped Henry as he passed green signal after green signal.

They were going so well that he had forgotten to be cross about the trousers and had started enjoying himself as the sun set in the distance. Then, the driver noticed something.

“Distant Signal’s up!” He called, “Caution!”

He shut off steam and prepared to apply the brakes when the fireman spoke up.

“Look! The Home Signal’s green!” He said.

“Oh,” Replied the Driver, confused, “Well, away we go!”

Henry responded with a will, speeding up so quickly that the fireman had to work extra hard to keep his fire fed. He sounded off his whistle happily as he passed the green signal and disappeared into the night.

Up ahead, James was feeling the opposite of happy. He had left earlier with a slow goods train, the trucks bumping and banging every time they stopped at a station. The ice and cold had not helped matters and that, coupled with stalling on Gordon’s Hill, had left James cold, annoyed, and late. So late, that he had to be shunted to let Henry pass him. His crew, tired of his grumbling, sought refuge in the van with the guard. The guard had lit the stove in the brakevan, and was brewing cocoa.

“Oh, this tastes excellent!” Said the fireman as he sipped his cocoa.

“You best finish quickly!” Laughed the Driver, “The Kipper’s due, and James will want to get going!”

“Who cares? We’ll have all the time we need after the Kipper passes!”

The fireman defiantly stayed seated as the guard peered out of his van.

“I can hear the Kipper…” He mused, “It’ll pass us at any moment.”

At that moment he spotted engine-lamps in the distance and thought nothing of it until he realized it was on their line.

“Everyone out!” He shouted.

“But I haven’t finished my cocoa yet!” Complained the Fireman.

“There’s no time!” Yelled the Guard, “The Kipper’s on our line!”

They got out of the van just in time.

Henry slammed into the goods train, demolishing the brakevan and the last few trucks before being thrown to the lineside and skidding across the snow and dirt before coming to a rest on his side. The fish vans hit the wreckage and got battered to bits, sprawling their cargo as they piled up in a heap. Up ahead, James, wondering where his crew was, got jolted forward along with the rest of his train. He was upright and unharmed, but the trucks that weren’t in pieces were now awkwardly standing on the sleepers.

“What on earth?!” He shouted, trying to make out what had happened, “Henry?”

The battered and bruised shape that looked like Henry only wheezed. James’s crew were busy digging themselves out of snow when the guard noticed something.

“Fire!” He cried.

The remains of the brakevan had caught fire from the stove. At once he helped James’s crew out of the snow, and they rushed into James’s cab as he raced to the next station for help.

The breakdown train arrived in the morning. Luckily, the fire got its spirits dampened by the cold, with only a few trucks being charred. The workmen began clearing the mess and checked over Henry. He felt miserable.

“Oh dear”, he thought as he looked up, “I’m in for it now!”

The Fat Controller came trudging through the snow towards him. He paused, and seemed to violently kick something away before reaching henry. 

“The signal was down sir…” Said Henry sadly.

“Don’t worry Henry.” Said The Fat Controller, “Ice & snow caused the accident. The signal was weighed down and the points froze after James got shunted. It couldn’t be helped. Now, I’m sending you to Crewe. It’s a fine place for sick engines. They’ll give you a new shape and you’ll be more useful than ever. You won’t need special coal anymore!”

“Yes sir…” Replied Henry, doubtfully.

Henry was taken to Crewe the next day. They took him to pieces and rebuilt him. He thought it was quite the experience, and was more than happy to return home. Lots of people came to see him. He whistled as he passed by, smiling wider than he’d ever had. He can make steam far easier now, and doesn’t need the special coal, and is more than happy to share the last of it with his friends. He steams so well and can go so fast that it’s enough to make Gordon jealous. But that’s another story. 

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There are two types of diesels-