N Gauge Forum

The Tale of the Lost Railway

It's been a while since I've bored forum readers with one of my ridiculous stories but with encouragement from @Train Waiting and a few others I've decided to give it another go.

I'll be aiming to publish at least a couple of posts each week - maybe more if I have the time and I'm feeling creative and in the mood.

Let's start with a short Introduction.

The Tale of the Lost Railway

"Thou  'as ta believe in it laddie, thou 'as ta believe. Believe it an'  'tis there but doubt it an' 'tis all nothing but a dream"

This is a story of mystery and intrigue centred around a railway line which, according to local legend, ran  from Moretonhampstead to Okehampton on the north eastern fringes of Dartmoor in Devon.

Local folk are absolutely convinced  of its existence but did that railway really exist?

Look on any map of the area and there is no trace of said line. There is just a rough footpath linking the two towns around the very edge of the moor.

Trains certainly ran North  from Newton Abbot to Moretonhampstead  on the former Great Western branch line whilst Okehampton was served by the ex LSWR main line from Exeter to Plymouth.
However, there is no record of a railway ever being built between those two towns even though it would have made sense.
It is likely that cost was the reason that it was never seemingly constructed.

The area traversed by the mystery railway is extremely remote and  frequently shrouded  by thick mists which roll down from Dartmoor. This only adds to the sense of mystery and intrigue surrounding  the railway.

The story is based largely in the Autumn and Winter  of 1961.

Let's start with a brief introduction to the various railway lines which will be central to the plot.

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The Great Western Main Line from Exeter to Plymouth and into Cornwall
To many this stretch of line which is part of the Great Western route from Paddington to Penzance , and which includes the coastal stretch from Starcross to Teignmouth, requires little introduction.


The Southern Railway route to Plymouth from Exeter
The LSWR route from Exeter to Plymouth was finally opened throughout in 1876 construction of various sections of the line having been undertaken on a piecemeal basis in earlier years.
The route roughly follows the Northern and Western edges of Dartmoor through Crediton, Okehampton, Lydford and Tavistock before dropping down towards Plymouth.

The Moretonhampstead Branch
The Moretonhampsted and South Devon railway built a branch which ran from the South Devon Railway main line (from Exeter to Penzance) at Newton Abbot to Moretonhampstead via Bovey Tracey and Lustleigh.
The line, which follows the lowest foothills on the eastern fringes of Dartmoor opened in 1866 closing to passenger traffic in 1959 lingering on until 1972-for local freight operations.
The line was acquired by the Great Western Railway in 1878.
Originally built to the broad gauge conversion to standard gauge took place in 1892 taking a gang of 60 men to complete the entire route of 12 miles and 28 chains.
Lustleigh station was used as the base for the 1931 film Hound of the Baskervilles.

The Missing link (The Lost Railway)
The missing section is, of course, that from Moretonhampstead to Okehampton which, crucially, passes through the grounds of Baskerville Manor owned, for several centuries, by the Hardcastle family.
The family is currently headed by the effervescent, benevolent, idiosyncratic and somewhat eccentric Sir Archibald Hardcastle who is, to say the very least, an extremely enthusiastic railway enthusiast, as was his father before him and grandfather before that.
Did this railway line, linking the two Devon towns, ever exist and is it still extant in the early 1960s?
Although you might diligently search for Railway Clearing House Junction Diagrams of the area or  refer to local OS maps you will surely find no reference to its existence.
Many local  folk, however, are certain  that it does exist and furthermore there are countless rumours revolving around  a headless female ghost, howling wolf like dogs and even gruesome murder.

Are the tales true or is the entire  thing a figment of rather over active and maybe alcohol  fuelled imaginations?

Pay a visit to the Baskerville Arms in the hamlet of the same name, offer to buy a pint for one of the locals at the bar and you'll be rewarded with tales of mysterious trains and strange goings on.

Our story hopes to uncover the truth be it fact or fiction.

To be continued .........

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – 2)

An introduction to the  two principal  characters :

Colin Penn

The first of the two main characters is Colin Penn. The story will be largely narrated by Colin.

Colin Penn was born in Teignmouth in 1935 living in the town for his entire  life apart from the three years spent at the University of Liverpool where he obtained a Third Class Honours Degree in Geography.

Colin was never  exactly sure why he studied geography at university. It was probably because he was advised to do so by Mr Beard the careers master at school simply because it was the subject at which he excelled. Having obtained three 'A' levels at school it was expected of Colin that he would go on to University which, of course, he did somewhat against his better judgement.

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The Spotting Gang assembled on The Steps with Archie to the right wearing his trademark Brown Felt Hat

School work came reasonably easily to Colin but he generally failed to apply himself fully as highlighted in his regular school reports. He was, like many young lads, easily distracted. In his case the distraction was railways and in particular the fine locomotives of the GWR which frequented the South Devon Sea Wall which was  his local patch .

Never a particularly gregarious sort,  Colin kept to the fringe of the  spotting gang that assembled regularly on "The Steps" situated adjacent to the railway line just beyond the end of Teignmouth promenade. Despite being somewhat shy as a young boy he was on friendly terms with an older chap who always seemed to be immaculately dressed complete with a light brown felt hat. This chap, nicknamed Brown Hat Man by the spotting gang, was very easy to talk to and always happy to pass on interesting snippets of railway related information. He seemed to be "in the know" regarding any unusual  events related to railways.

University worked out well for Colin in a social, as well as academic, sense. He became much more confident amongst other people and was happy to engage in the various societies which interested him particularly, of course, the Railway Society.  He was also actively involved with the student association and became editor of the student magazine. It was  a post that would very much help with his future career choice.
His three years at university completed, Colin returned to Teignmouth. Quite by chance he quickly landed a job as an office junior at the Teignmouth Chronicle progressing very quickly to a position as transport reporter. This was not a particularly demanding role but it gave him an excellent grounding in journalism.

Having moved to his own flat and courting a local girl, Mary White, Colin surprised everyone by branching out on his own as a freelance investigative reporter specialising in newsworthy events  related to transport, particularly railways,

Colin and Mary were married in 1959, the couple purchasing a small cottage near to Teignmouth town centre.

The second principal character is Archie Hardcastle :


Archie Hardcastle, full name Sir Archibald Sinclair Anderson Hardcastle, was born in 1919.
The Hardcastles originally hailed from the far North of Scotland where the family still retain a presence, and a prominent one at that owning a large estate.

The family home of the English branch  of the family has been, for a couple of  centuries, Baskerville Manor which is located on the edge of Dartmoor between Moretonhampstead and Okehampton.

Archibald, having been schooled at Harrow,  obtained a first class honours degree in English at Cambridge before joining  the RAF where he progressed very quickly. He went on to fly Spitfires and Hurricanes during World War Two being highly decorated for valour and outstanding bravery. After the war he took up a senior position as chief advisor to the Prime Minister. He was knighted for his work in 1957.

Archibald hated formality and always played down his achievements, much preferring not to talk about them at all. He rarely, if ever, made reference to his  title and always, unless in a formal setting, went by the name  of Archie.

In 1958 he retired from the Civil Service, at the relatively  young age of 39, effectively to oversee the family farm on Dartmoor. An estate manager was quickly leaving Archie ample time to pursue his lifelong interest in  railways.

Archie and his wife Lady Felicity or, as she much preferred Flic, purchased  a modest house in Teignmouth meaning that he could spend as much time as he dared simply watching trains on the sea wall. Archie is, of course, the man in the felt hat or, as he is referred to by the spotting , Brown Hat Man".

The couple retained the family home on Dartmoor visiting regularly to ensure that all was running to plan but Archie's huge passion for railways meant that he spent as much time as possible in Teignmouth where he had easy access to the sea wall  to simply watch trains. He did , however, allow enough time to spend most lunch times at The Ship Inn partaking of luncheon and a pint, or two, of their very finest ale.

Archie was, by his own admission, a trifle eccentric in his manner but always very popular, jovial and above all very benevolent towards local deserving causes. He seemed to know absolutely everyone and was liked by one and all.

Archie had wide ranging railway interests about which he was very talk enthusiastically. There was, however, one railway related matter, let's,  perhaps,  call it a hidden, secret obsession. It was something which he never, ever mentioned except to trusted members of his own family.............

To be continued............

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – 3)

It was early in September 1961. I found myself daydreaming as I returned, weary, from a long and somewhat exhausting trip to London where I had been investigating a mysterious death on a Metropolitan Line train at Baker Street station.

Of course, I had to avoid  the inevitable clever remarks relating to a certain Mr Holmes but that was no problem. After all, it might make a good newspaper headline .

My train home from Paddington was the 17-55 to Plymouth. As  I had around fifteen minutes to departure I walked up to see what locomotive would be attached. I arrived at the end of the platform just in time to witness Castle Class number 7037 Swindon, the last of the class, backing down onto the carriages.

I walked briskly back along platform three to find, hopefully, an empty compartment. I soon found one and very quickly the train was away with the smooth, sure footed elegance to be expected from a Castle.

The rhythmical clickety clack of the carriage wheels on the rail joints was almost lulling me to sleep when my thoughts suddenly, and inexplicably, turned to a week's holiday spent with a Great Aunt and Uncle on their smallholding on the edge of Dartmoor several years ago. I must have been aged eight making the year 1943. The Second World War was in full swing and I vaguely remember hearing on the wireless that the Allies had invaded Sicily. Quite what that meant in the grand scheme of things I knew not at the time but it seemed to be an important development.

My memories of the holiday are  quite vague but I do remember the small farmhouse, with a few straggling out houses, being very remote. I also clearly  remember the two donkeys, I think their names were Rosy and Thomas, who seemed to enjoy the extra attention afforded them by a small boy.

Delving further back in my mind I recall that I must have travelled to Moretonhampstead station via  the branch line from Newton Abbot. I dimly remember being taken to Newton station by my parents who put me in a compartment, on my own, to make the short trip to Moretonhampstead where my Aunt and Uncle met me with their horse and cart.

Moretonhampstead  station was at the terminus of the line but tracks did continue beyond the platform towards some cattle pens before ending abruptly at a gated tunnel mouth. My Uncle took me up to the end of the platform to see the locomotive which, likely, would have been a small prairie tank but it was that gated tunnel mouth around a hundred yards away which really caught my attention. I do not recall why that tunnel intrigued me or, for that matter, why I remember it so vividly. Perhaps it  just looked unusual and perhaps exciting to  me as a small lad.

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That gated tunnel mouth intrigues me even more today than when I was a small lad

The trip up to the farmhouse was mostly  along a rather rutted and uneven farm track  which became bumpier the further we travelled. I can remember my excitement as we approached a tiny hamlet bearing the name Baskerville.   I had heard of the  book  The Hound of the Baskervilles although I was too young  to have read it. I was , however, going to be staying in a famous village and that was going to be fun.

I must have enjoyed my stay but the thing that I recall most clearly is being told on several occasions not to venture up that bank, don't go beyond that fence or don't open that gate. There seemed to be a great many places that I wasn't  allowed to explore which didn't really bother me then but thinking back today it was rather strange.

My mind wandered off in different directions as my journey home to Teignmouth continued although I did keep returning to that boyhood holiday. The more I remembered the stranger it became in my mind.

Now in my mid twenties there seem to be so many unanswered questions from that week away  with the most curious being the faintest memory of a railway station at Baskerville.  Come to think of it, I'm almost certain that as I was falling to sleep one warm  evening, with my bedroom window wide open,  I heard a steam train in the far distance.

By the time my train neared Exeter St Davids I had made up my mind to visit the area again in the next week or so in order to satisfy my curiosity.

Who knows what I might find?

If nothing else, my curiosity will be satisfied.............


To be continued

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – 4)

A few days after my return from London Mary, my wife, had invited a friend to stay with us for a few days affording me the ideal opportunity to spend a bit of time down at the sea wall watching trains. It's the perfect relaxation although I'm  not really into collecting numbers, I just enjoy observing  the comings and goings and taking the odd photograph with my Box Brownie camera.

Down on the wall, the weather was beautifully sunny, pleasantly warm and with a very slight onshore breeze. Being a Saturday the usual gang of spotters were in attendance on the steps but I decided to walk along to Sprey Point where I planned to while away a couple of hours or so.

It was indeed a very rewarding spell. Being a Summer Saturday I witnessed a procession of Castles, Kings, Halls, Granges and a solitary County together with a couple of prairie tanks on local services thrown in for good measure. I wonder what the passengers, perhaps arriving for the start of a week long holiday,  are thinking as they gaze in awe at the glistening blue sea to their left.

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Two of the trains on that busy Saturday morning as a Grange and a Castle pass each other at Sprey Point
Around half way through my session Archie Hardcastle arrived as usual greeting everyone around with a jovial good morning and a raising of his hat for the ladies. . I'd become much friendlier with Archie since my shy boyhood days. We were now good friends sometimes meeting up for a pint or two in The Ship.

"Good morning Archie. How are you this fine morning ? "

"Oh hello there my dear old fruit. I'm spiffingly well thank you" , he replied "And how about you?   I haven't seen you down here for a few days".

I told him  that I'd been away on business in London recently and also filled him in on the Baker Street incident although he had already read my report in the newspaper.

Knowing that Archie had an encyclopaedic knowledge of all things railways I thought that I'd tell him  about my childhood holiday up near Baskerville when I was a lad and my vague memories of a mysterious station. I asked him if he knew anything about a railway in the area.

Archie's response was remarkably swift. Perhaps a little too swift even. "I say old chap, I think that's your memory playing a few tricks. There's never been a railway up there although, I'd be the first to admit,  it would have made absolute sense to have a link between Moretonhampstead and Okehampton".

"I'm sure that you are quite right", I replied, "But nevertheless  I'm planning a little trip up there next week to have a good look around and perhaps jog my childhood memories.  I'm thinking of staying  a couple of  nights".

"Well, you take care up there old boy. It's rather remote and subject to thick fog at a moment's notice. Make sure you have a good map and don't get lost or you could be wandering around for days".

With that we were both distracted as a beautifully clean  number 6000 King George V rushed past with a down express, the bell on her buffer beam gleaming in the morning sun".
"What a fine sight", exclaimed Archie, "The Kings are such fine looking locomotives and by the look of her she's just out of the shops".

We chatted a bit more before it was time for me to head home for lunch.

"Enjoy Dartmoor my friend. It's lovely up there and you never know what you might find" said Archie as I left. I'm sure that I detected the merest twinkle in his eye as he tipped his hat to wish me goodbye. Did he perhaps know more than he was letting on?

I decided to spend a bit of time over the next week researching various old railway documents in a bid to find any reference to tracks beyond Moretonhampstead but despite visiting the local library and the county archivist's office there was nothing.

However I  couldn't get the memory of that gated tunnel at the end the line out of my mind and I determined to see if it was still in situ. Why was it there? What is, or was,  beyond those gates?

I could find absolutely no reference to that tunnel, if indeed that's what it was, ever being built but I'm sure it's what I'd seen beyond the station platform. Why, however, was no  one else intrigued and if it was a tunnel where did the tracks disappear to?

The next Saturday found me at Teignmouth station waiting for a local train to Newton Abbot from where I would catch the branch service up to Moretonhampstead.

To be continued.......

Excellent! I'm looking forward to the next part.

All good wishes.

John

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – 5)

I had arranged a three night  stay at a guest house on the outskirts of the little hamlet of Baskerville, a  village nestling quietly on the very edge of Dartmoor some nine miles north of Moretonhampstead and five south of Okehampton.

My previous visit to the area had been, as you know,  some  eighteen years ago. Aged eight, I holidayed there with an aunt and uncle but they have long since moved away from the area  so the guest house it was to be this time around.

On the Saturday morning I was up early, catching the 7-45 train from Teignmouth to Newton Abbot, a journey lasting  some eight minutes which followed the River Teign for most of the time.

This was a local service from Exeter St Davids to Kingswear hauled by a large prairie tank which accelerated rapidly way from Teignmouth.

On arrival at Newton I had a twenty minute wait for my train up to Moretonhampstead which comprised small prairie number 4554 and and two rather dilapidated  non corridor carriages.

Right on time at 8-16 we were away, soon passing the racecourse to my left before we curved fairly sharply away from the main and onto the branch line.

The journey, which took me via Teigngrace Halt, Heathfield, Brimley Halt, Bovey Tracey , Hawkmoor and Lusleigh took me through some delightful scenery. It took around sixtry five minutes to cover the sixteen or so miles.

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My train photographed passing the small goods yard just beyond Bovey Tracey station with the Stover Canal in the forground

The station stops were, to say the least, relaxed  affairs with business carried out in the unhurried style so typical of rural branch line railways across the country. At most of the stations a few passengers, many  of whom were on first name terms with the railway staff,  alighted or boarded and a wide variety of goods were handled, carefully and efficiently,  by the station and train crew.

It was just approaching 9-20 when  my train pulled into Moretonhampstead, the northern terminus of the line.

Around a dozen or so passengers, me included, alighted into bright morning sunshine. The temperature was   an  agreeable 68 degrees as I  wandered up to the end of the platform to thank the driver and fireman for helping to make the journey pleasant and relaxing.

The locomotive would run around its train ready for the return journey at 10-05 , a process that I  determined to watch but, of course, I had plenty of time. Indeed the footplate crew made it their first job to visit the signalman in his box, no doubt for a chat and a brew leaving their locomotive simmering gently in the station.
This allowed me time to wander right to the very end of the platform in order to look for any trace of the tunnel which I recalled so clearly from my younger days.

The tracks  extended beyond the station to a small cattle dock and goods siding then curved slightly to the right towards a steepish hill. Surely a tunnel was the only way a railway could pass this hill, an expensive option that no doubt contributed to the railway beyond Moretonhampstead not being built.

My view, however, was blocked by two heavy wooden gates with an eight foot high fence either side. Those gates were firmly closed and padlocked across the single track with a large sleeper chained tightly across the track.

If a tunnel did exist it must be beyond those gates. I determined to investigate further over the course of the next day or so.

I was lost in my thoughts when a whistle from number 4554 signalled the start of her run round movement which I observed with interest. Right on time, just a few minutes later, the train was away with the locomotive this time running bunker first.

After leaving the station and surrendering my ticket to the smartly uniformed collector I consulted the omnibus timetable, pasted to the wall. It transpired, to my delight, that a Western National service to Baskerville was due shortly.

At 10-35 a green coloured Bedford SB arrived in the station forecourt. I was the only passenger to board and joined two others for the short journey.

"Whur be goin' ?" enquired the jovial conductor to whom I replied, "Single to  Baskerville please" .

"That'll be tuppece please but what you be goin' there for.  There baint much there for a young lad like thee".

I explained that I would be staying at the guest house whilst exploring the area for a day or two.
"Ahh, thas ol' Mrs 'Arris' place you'll be stayin' at. She's a bit on the stern side mind so thee besn't do anythin' ta upset 'er".

It wasn't long  before the bus slowed down and the conductor said to me "This'll be thy stop lad".

I looked up and down the street which was, it has to be said, rather bleak. There were a few old cottages, a small shop and a pub to my left. To the right was a terrace of little houses with a few larger ones just beyond but very little else other than what appeared to be. a large rambling farmhouse and yard in  the distance.

I set out in search of the guest house. The lady had said on the telephone that it was just past the pub so I began walking in that direction noting that the pub was called The Baskerville Arms. It looked just as bleak as the rest of the buildings.

As I walked I noticed a narrow tree lined lane off to my left.  I peered down the lane. About a hundred and fifty yards along there were large gates which appeared to be locked tightly shut. Those gates appeared to me to rather resemble those at Moretonhampstead station.

I thought little more of this as I approached the guest house which was named, a little disconcertingly, Wolf's Lair.

I knocked the door, with some trepidation,  to be greeted by a lady, probably in her early sixties, with straggly  unkempt grey hair and dark steely grey, deep set, eyes. She was wearing a long black dress with what appeared to be wellington boots on her feet.

"Who be you?", she rasped  by way of greeting.

To be continued.......

 :hellosign:    :greatpicturessign:
  Following with interest Martin
  :beers: stay safe regards Derek

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – 6)

It turns out that Mrs Harris, the owner of the guest ouse where I was staying, had been feeding her chickens. One had escaped causing her to chase it round the garden in the warm weather which did nothing for her mood when she answered the door to me.

Once she realised that I was a paying guest she calmed down and showed me to my room. The price was one pound, eighteen shillings and sixpence  per night plus an additional five  shillings for breakfast and an extra one shilling and six pence if I required  a daily packed lunch.

I paid in advance, taking up the offer of the packed lunch including today.

Mrs Harris chatted amicably for a few minutes after I had settled my bill  but then  allowed me to settle into my room.

At around 11-45 I decided to explore the local area around Baskerville taking my packed lunch with me.

Walking down the main street, if you could call it a main street, I was struck by how quiet it was. I saw only one other person, a man in his sixties, who nodded but carried on past me without saying a word.

It was the gated lane which interested me most so I retraced my steps from yesterday. As I walked along the main road towards the lane I noticed that the vegetation to my right was extremely lush and overgrown to the point of being virtually impenetrable to all but the most determined of individuals.

There did, however, seem to be a flat grassy ledge in the distance which resembled a railway embankment. It couldn't be, could it or was it just wishful thinking on my part?
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I had no way to get to the bank so continued on along the road. When I reached the lane I turned right heading directly towards those rather inhospitable looking gates which were, I realised, locked tightly shut.

To the left of the gates was a steep  bank and to the left a  thick stone wall  with a small archway set into it.

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Just beyond the arch was a very heavy wooden door which, like the gates, was locked.

There was no way in so I turned to leave but spotted, out of the very corner of my eye, what looked like a very big, heavy  key hanging from a large, rusty  hook. It was almost hidden by ivy but it was definitely  a key.

Surely that key wouldn't unlock that door.

Dare I try it?

To be continued.....

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – 7)

The key was remarkably heavy but I managed to insert it securely into the lock.  With mounting trepidation, I turned it.

Despite appearing to be old and rusty, the key  turned very easily allowing  the gate to swing open which it did remarkably smoothly. To my surprise it seemed the lock and hinges had been well maintained and fairly recently oiled.

Once through I closed the gate quietly behind me.

Ahead was a somewhat  overgrown rough gravel path leading quite steeply uphill to what appeared to be a flat bank stretching away into the distance.

I walked to the top of the bank to find, as I had hardly dared to hope, railway tracks curving away to the left through trees. I had expected, if I did manage to find  evidence of a railway, that the tracks would be old and rusted but this railway was in reasonable order with the top of the track being shiny which surely indicated that a train had passed this way recently. How on earth was that possible? There were  no railway line in the area according to all of the maps and official documentation I had recently studied.
Feeling somewhat emboldened I began to walk in the direction of Baskerville. The railway was lined, on both sides, by lush vegetation surely making it virtually impossible to see from the surrounding fields.

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The view that greeted me at the top of the bank

I found the remains of an old  stone wall enabling me to sit awhile, take a break and enjoy Mrs Harris' cheese and chutney sandwiches which were, by the way, delicious.

Ii was soon on my way again walking for some twenty five minutes. Eventually, in the distance, I could make out yet another set of heavy gates with a high wooden fence on either side.

On reaching the gates I discovered that I would be walking no further. This time there was no key to be found.  However I  did notice  a very small gap between the gates allowing me to get a peep beyond.

On the other side of the gates, surrounded completely by the tall wooden fence which must have been eight feet high, was a sight that I couldn't believe. What I saw was beyond my wildest imagination.

My journalistic instincts soon swung into action, this was a massive opportunity for me, the sort of story that, perhaps, only occurs once in a lifetime. I determined to return tomorrow with my camera. Perhaps with more time I might be able to find a way in.

After taking in the scene for several minutes I decided to head back to my guest house where I could write up a few notes.  Of course, on the way, I was very careful to lock the entrance gate and to secrete the key back onto its hook.

That evening I decided to take a visit to the local inn, The Baskerville Arms.

It was a typical rural country pub. As I walked in the whole place fell silent. I could sense around twenty pairs of eyes staring at me but undeterred I made my way to the bar.

"Good evening to you. A pint of your finest, foaming ale if I may landlord", I  said to the grey haired, rather portly man behind the bar.
With that the locals returned to their various conversations. The landlord said "Be you stayin' along at ol' Ma 'Arris' place?"

I replied to the affirmative, "Ya see we dunt get many strangers in 'ere. Word da soon get round if there be a foreigner in town".

I wasn't surprised by his reaction. I guessed that most of the customers had probably lived in the area all of their lives and were a little wary of a stranger walking in.Despite the reaction I now felt a little more comfortable and feeling hungry hungry I enquired if any food might be available.

"Food, we dun't do no posh food in ''ere but I ken get the wife ta knock e up sum bread n cheese if these like?".

Bread and cheese would do nicely so I took my pint and scanned around for an empty table.  The pub was only small and the only available seat was in the corner. I would have to share a table with an elderly man sitting on his own, nursing a pint and engulfed by pipe smoke.

"May I sit here?", I enquired politely.

The man looked up, nodding. "Good evening young chappie", he said in an unexpectedly refined and  cultured voice, "Please do join me. I'm Giles Forsythe, Estate Manager to His Lordship Sir Archibald Hardcastle. I don't expect you are familiar with the Hardcastle family but they are a very prominent family locally and own a lot of land around here. Sir Archibald sometimes pops in here for a couple of pints but I don't expect him this evening as he is entertaining friends up at The Manor House".

Giles must have sensed, from my dropped jaw and open mouth,  that I was somewhat taken aback. My mind was working on over drive.

Archibald Hardcastle – that cannot be right I thought.

Surely it can't be Archie from the sea wall.........can it?

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The Baskerville Arms

To be continued..........

I was a bit concerned you might take the wrong turning and end up at Crinkley Bottom at which point it would become a horror story.

Splendid story, thank you, Martin.

As for the picture of The Baskerville Arms, is it just me or has it more than a hint of a Kestrel kit about it?

With all good wishes.

John

That signpost needs a bit more glue as well.

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part Eight)

I quizzed  Giles about  Sir Archibald trying not to appear over inquisitive but I just had to know if it was the same Archibald Hardcastle that I knew from the sea wall.

It became apparent  from his answers that Sir Archibald was indeed my railway enthusiast friend Archie. I was intrigued and rather confused, I needed to know more.

I next, tentatively, broached the subject of the railway tracks  that I'd discovered whilst taking a walk in the area that very afternoon. Giles was, perhaps unsurprisingly, somewhat  dismissive of the subject which led me to think about my similar conversation with Archie on the sea wall just a few days earlier. Archie had appeared similarly reluctant to discuss any possibility that a railway existed in the area.
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/160/230-140726141428.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=160867)
Giles and I in The Baskerville Arms

I decided that any further railway talk might sound  suspicious. Indeed,  I sensed that I was beginning to tread  on delicate ground  so I changed the subject towards that good old British discussion point of the weather.

Giles soon announced that he had to go. Perhaps he had become bored with my questioning.

The pub was still quite busy meaning that as  soon as the seat opposite me was vacated  it was taken by an old chap who must  have been well into  his eighties. The elderly man was nursing his pint whilst looking at me with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I were 'eves droppin' on you an' Giles talkin' about a railway", he suddenly uttered, "You wanna be careful if you go snoopin' around up thur. If Giles' gamekeeper do catch ee, 'e'll 'ave yer  guts fer garters. All I'll say though is thou 'as ta believe it laddie, thou 'as ta believe. Believe it an'  tis there but doubt it an' 'tis all a but dream". With  that the elderly chap downed the last of his pint and he was gone.

I hadn't uttered a word to the man but his words left me completely non plussed. What on earth did he mean?

Despite what appeared to be a slightly veiled warning I vowed to return to the railway tomorrow in order to walk the tracks in the opposite direction back towards Moretonhampstead . I was intrigued and simply had to find out as much as I could.

The pub was, by now, a little quieter so I ordered another pint and settled back in my chair soon lost in my thoughts as I tried to make sense of everything that had occurred today.


Meanwhile.....
Earlier that afternoon, some two or three miles to the north, a  creamy-white Jaguar 100 sports car, with two well healed gentlemen on board, was approaching the grounds of Baskerville Manor, home of Sir Archibald Hardcastle.

The car was soon followed along the lengthy drive by a chauffeur driven Rolls Royce with at least three bowler hatted passengers.

To be continued..........

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – nine )

"I say Bertie , this is a mighty fine estate that your chum Sir Archibald owns. The countryside around here is absolutely  splendid and these grounds are just so well manicured and beautifully maintained".

Bertie Poppingham, along with his younger brother Bonzo, had motored down to Devon in Bertie's 1938 3.5  litre SS Jaguar 100. Having enjoyed a very pleasant luncheon at The Prince Regent Hotel in Tewkesbury the pair were in good spirits.

"I'll be darned", exclaimed Bertie as the Jaguar took a slight jolt which the superior suspension dealt with at ease.  "If I'm not mistaken  those were railway tracks set into the driveway  that we've just bumped over. That old rascal Archie must be setting up some sort of full sized garden railway. He did mention that the reason for inviting us down for a few days was to discuss a top secret railway related matter. Oh, by  the way, you did pop those two bottles of  Bollinger RD into the hamper didn't you?".

"Of course", replied Bonzo, "Looking forward to sampling it later. We'll have to ask the butler to put it straight into the chiller".

The pair drove through the superb gatehouse arch before approaching Baskerville Manor, a large, beautifully proportioned  17th century mansion. The final section of the drive was lined with tall , nicely shaped Italian Cypress trees which  opened out onto  a crescent shaped forecourt boasting an ornate fountain as its centre piece.

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/160/230-160726125852.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=160930)
Bertie and Bonzo passing through the gatehouse arch on arrival at Baskerville Manor

Bertie swung the Jaguar to a halt.

The brothers climbed out  just as a silver Rolls Royce came to a halt behind them. The immaculately dressed chauffeur was out of the car in a flash in order to open the rear door from which emerged three top hatted gentlemen.

With that Archie appeared at the top of the half moon shaped steps which led up to the heavy mahogany front door.

"Bertie my dear old thing", gushed Archie as he charged down the steps, two at a time,  before embracing his old friend, "It's been a few years but it's so good to see you again. A pleasant enough drive down I trust?"

"Indeed, a most pleasant drive. It's so good  to see you too Archie", said Bertie. "May I introduce Bonzo, my younger brother. He's a little less excitable than you and I but has an extremely quick wit. Put him in the cockpit of a Spitfire or Mosquito though and he'll come alive. You really must ask him about his exciting encounter with a Messerschmitt off Dover. It'll make a good story over a cognac or two after dinner".

Archie shook Bonzo enthusiastically by the hand then, almost as an afterthought, turned his attention to the three bowler hatted gentlemen.
"Good afternoon to you all on this fine afternoon. Welcome to Baskerville Manor. I'm Sir Archibald Hardcastle but please, please do call me Archie.

"Thank you so much", replied the taller of the three, "I'm Gerry Fiennes, Chief Operating Officer to the British Railways Board. Please let me introduce John Hammond, General Manager of BR Western Region and Ronald Parker, Station Master at Moretonhampstead".

All six men shook hands exchanging pleasantries as the y made their way up to the front door of Baskerville Manor.

"Tompkins here will direct you all to your rooms" explained Archie, "and he'll see to your luggage. Shall we meet in the study at five thirty for pre-dinner drinks".

At that moment Archie's wife, dressed immaculately in a yellow dress, appeared from an adjoining room.  Archie  turned to the guests. "Gentlemen, let me introduce my beautiful  wife Lady Felicity. Please do refer to her as Flic though, we both simply hate standing on formality".

As everyone followed Tompkins up the stairs to their rooms Bonzo whispered  to  Bertie, "I say, Bertie, what a stunner Lady Felicity is".
"Indeed so", replied Bertie, "But remember, she's Flic not Lady Felicity. I rather hope she'll be joining us for dinner as she'll lighten the mood if the railway talk gets a little too stuffy".

To be continued........

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – ten)

At five thirty precisely Archie, Bertie, Bonzo, Gerry Fiennes, John Hammond and Ronald Parker assembled in  the study for pre-dinner drinks. At the request of  Archie, dress was informal.

Archie took the opportunity to address the guests and provide a little background information as to why everyone had been asked to attend.

After thanking everyone for taking the trouble to travel down to Devon Archie continued :

 "Gentlemen, back in the early years of this century, my grandfather came up with a splendid plan to build a railway between Moretonhampstead, which lies at the northern end of the branch line from Newton Abbot, to Okehampton which is distance of some fourteen  miles around the north eastern edge of Dartmoor. Such a railway would have provided a link between the old Great Western Railway to the South and the Southern  Railway to the north.
The trackbed  would,  of course,  pass largely  through our family estate.

Neither the GWR or the Southern were willing to contribute to  such a venture, even on a shared basis, and so my grandfather, Lord William Hardcastle , a railway enthusiast with an interest in civil engineering, decided to fund the venture in its entirety.

Construction of the railway would be expensive, very expensive actually, involving the building of tunnels at both ends and at Baskerville, just up the road from here. Despite the considerable expense  good old Grampy Bill, as I liked to  call him, could envisage the benefits both to local folk and, of course, to our own family and estate.

Now, the next part of the story must, for the time being, remain in this room. The railway was built but as most of it ran through the family estate parliamentary  approval was never sought or indeed, needed. The local MP, the Right Honourable Sir Barnaby Bastable was instrumental in negotiations with the GWR and LSWR to ensure that both ends of the line could be temporarily laid with the intention that approval from Parliament  would be sought retrospectively. However, The First World War intervened, the whole project was put on the back burner and trains never ran. After the  war my grandfather became involved with several  other, more urgent projects and my own father, not interested in railway matters, failed to resurrect the plan.

In around nineteen twenty  Grampy Bill, for reasons that we don't fully understand, arranged for the tunnels at Moretonhampstead, Baskerville and Okehampton to be boarded up and allowed  both sides of the track to become hidden  by thick vegetation thus creating the illusion that no railway ever existed.

Today, some fifty years since the tracks were laid,  it was, until just a few short months back, virtually impossible, without an awful lot of effort, to gain access to the track bed".

Puzzled glances  were exchanged between the various men assembled around the table. Everyone was probably thinking that the whole scheme was always likely to fail but undeterred by the quizzical faces Archie continued.

"As some of you assembled here will know, I have an insatiable interest in railways leading me to consider the possibility of reinstating the lost line. My first action was to contact my old university chum Gerry Fiennes. As COO to the British Railways Board he is in an ideal position to  ascertain whether or not  my madcap scheme stood any chance of becoming anything more than a pipe dream.

When I called Gerry his first reaction was to laugh  so loudly that I had to move the telephone away from my ear in order to avoid being deafened. However, once he realised that I was being serious rather than insanely frivolous  he said that despite it being a completely crazy idea he would give it some consideration.

There was though  a word or warning  to the effect that, as I was no doubt aware,  the adjoining railways at Moretonhampstead and Okehampton would almost certainly be  closed under BR's rationalisation plans leaving my railway completely isolated.

I replied that yes of course I was aware of that but I also wanted to purchase  the existing  Newton Abbot to Moretonhampstead line before BR ripped it up. Not only that but I would retain the existing stations and halts and build a new one at Baskerville including a railway workshop.

By the way  that's where you come in Bertie".
Bertie looked a little non plussed as Archie continued , "I'm rather taken with the idea  of running  it as a preserved railway along the same lines as those splendid chaps at the fledgling Bluebell Railway. I gather that Bonzo and yourself  have some experience of purchasing the Bobbington to Sillybury line on behalf of Poppingham Estates and Bertie, I know that you  have also been heavily involved in the building of a very reputable railway workshop as part of your splendid SPAM scheme.  A workshop facility is something that I would very much like to include, probably at Baskerville.

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/160/230-190726142506.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=160965)
An artist's pencil sketch of the proposed new station and workshop facility at Baskerville

As far as the railway itself is concerned I have already taken the first steps, with  assistance from Gerry and John, towards clearing the track and wayside vegetation plus the link to the existing line at the Moretonhampstead end had also been partially reinstated.

I'm arranging for us all to visit the the line tomorrow ".

At this point Archie winked across the table to Gerry and John before continuing, "I guarantee that you'll all be in  for a very pleasant surprise when we enter the tunnel at Moretonhampstead but for now  enjoy  your meal this evening and we'll perhaps talk a little more over drinks later".

With that the group were called through to the dining room for dinner.

Oh, if only.....

More please!

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – Eleven)

The six men filed through to the dining room where they were joined by Archie's wife Flic and his personal secretary Melissa Bartram who was heavily involved with the various negotiations relating to the railway.

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The dining table awaiting the guests

The menu for the evening meal was as follows :

Appetisers
Spanish olives
Cheese Balls
Cocktail sausages with baby onions

To Start
French Onion Dip with herbed potato wedges.
Marinated Fried chicken livers and  water chestnuts  wrapped in bacon.
Garlic mushrooms

Main Course
Duck a l'orange
Steak Diane
Dover Sole
Pork chops with apple sauce
All served with a choice of baby new potatoes, French fries, roasted wedges, fresh carrots, broccoli, green beans, peas and roasted courgette.

Dessert
Tunnel of fudge cake
Pineapple upside-down cake
Traditional apple tart
Vanilla ice cream
Custard

The Cheese Board
Featuring an array of cheeses  served with  biscuits, sliced apple, walnuts and grapes.

Coffee to finish

Wines to include :
Bollinger RD (as supplied by Bertie and Bonzo)
Bordeaux (1959 vintage)
Rioja Reserva 904
Chardonnay – 1958
Cabernet Sauvignon (1955)

Digestif

1954 Madeira
1951 Colheita Tawny Port
1950  Courvoisier  Cognac

By 6-00pm everyone was sitting around the table ready to tuck in to what would surely be a lavish feast.

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – Twelve)


As was protocol, Lady Hardcastle asked Bertie to take her into dinner - after all, he is a Viscount. Bonzo accompanied the only other lady present, Melissa Barton, Archie's personal secretary.

The other gentlemen then followed, with Archie bringing up the rear. Lady Hardcastle - Felicity, or as she preferred amongst friends, Flic, sat, one chair in, on the far side of the table. She motioned to Bonzo to sit on her left and Bertie on her right. Bertie noted he had been given an honoured place to the hostess' right. Next to Bonzo was John Hammond, Western Region General Manager and the ranking BR officer attending.

Opposite John was Melissa. She is in her late twenties, married to William, a solicitor, well educated and especially attractive. She is also very competent at her job and knows how to handle a group of middle aged men. On her left was Gerry Fiennes, in the place of honour to the host's right and, on Archie's left and directly opposite Bertie, was  Ronald (Ron)  Parker the stationmaster at Moretonhampstead.

Bertie observed immediately that Ron was ill at ease, probably feeling rather out of his depth and a tad uncomfortable in such exalted company, including two very senior railway officers. The butler also noticed this and asked if anyone would care for a glass of ale rather than wine.

Bertie caught the drift immediately and replied, "Rather; some fine, foaming ale would be just the thing. Will you join me, Ron?"

Looking suitably grateful, Rom replied, "Yes, please."

Bertie then engaged Ron in conversation about his family and job as stationmaster. Bertie has a gift for putting people at ease and soon Ron was talking happily to him.

At the other end of the table, John and Gerry had fallen for Melissa's charms and were having a wonderful time. Melissa's eyes were sparkling in the candlelight and she looked like she had never been happier.

Flic's first attempt at engaging Bonzo in conversation was not completely successful. He is, by nature, shy and diffident and she was asking about his Wartime service in the RAF. He answered, politely of course, but wasn't really forthcoming. You see, unless you are one of his fellow RAF people, he is disinclined to discuss the War.

Fortunately, the conversation moved onto the animals, birds and wildflowers around Baskerville Manor and Bonzo was transformed. Then they discovered they were both keen watercolourists and they talked animatedly about their shared interest.

Archie sat, nodding and occasionally interjecting. From his expression, it was clear things were going precisely to plan.

After pudding, there was a slight break in conversation and Archie asked Bertie and Bonzo about Poppingham Estates' purchase of the recently-closed BR branch line from Bobbington to Sillybury.

Bertie replied, "Excuse me gentlemen, but we thought it was dashed stupid for BR to close the branch line. Poppyshire and Sillyshire are gently prosperous and Sillybury is a small seaside resort, but popular with the right sort. We thought it was bonkers to choose to keep open that white elephant line that ends at the 'Bridge to Nowhere' at Silliness station. And, as it's a high-level station, the approach is up a long flight of steps. Hardly anyone uses that line."

John shook his head and Gerry said quietly, "It was madness."

Bertie continued, "As you know, my Father was Chairman of the old Table-Top Railway before nationalisation and we simply couldn't abide such a useful asset going to waste. So, Poppingham Estates purchased the railway and employed as many of the railwaymen as wanted to work for us.

We also bought the Bobbington steam shed, which had been closed at the same time as the branch line. We are converting it into a workshop to refurbish and repair the locomotives and rolling stock we use on the railway.

Just like the Bluebell in Sussex and the Middleton in the West Riding, we have volunteers - the Welsh narrow gauge railways proved that would work - many of whom are retired railwaymen.

Our trains connect with BR at Bobbington and most of the tickets we sell are through tickets, often for more than local journeys. The passengers changing to our trains at Bobbington have often travelled considerable distances, so the irony is BR receives more of the revenue than we do."

At that, John looked surprised and Gerry exclaimed, "Well done! I knew it would work out well."

"Some of that is due to you, Gerry. Father and I will never forget the support you gave us behind the scenes."

"Thank you, Bertie," said Gerry, "And, of course, Lord Poppingham seemed to have considerable influence with the Prime Minister."

"Yes," said Bertie, "Harold MacMillan and Father have known each other for years."

At this Archie said, "Well Bertie and Bonzo, you have proven that a private railway can run as a service to the local people, provide revenue for BR and benefit everyone."

John and Gerry both looked impressed and nodded in agreement. Both were astute businessmen but they probably didn't fully understand the implications of the general proposition to which they were seen to be agreeing.

"One thing is vital, though," said Bertie, "The full co-operation and support of the local BR men has been of enormous help. It's chaps like Ron we have to thank for much of the success we have achieved."

"Precisely," said Bonzo. "We have been jolly fortunate that our venture has enjoyed the whole-hearted support of the local BR railway people."

The bonhomie was palpable and Flic nodded to Melissa and said, "As coffee has been served, we'll withdraw and allow you gentlemen to talk some more about trains. Please do join us in the Drawing Room when you are ready." The men all rose and the ladies left the room. As the door closed, the butler brought the decanter of Port to the table.

Conversation flowed easily as the Port circulated. Gerry, in particular, seemed to be enjoying talking to Ron. Needless to say, the old 'Stop that dog - it's a parcel' anecdote received a thorough airing. It's always hilarious after a good dinner.

Bertie handed round a few photographs of their private railway, which everyone seemed to find interesting.


(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/161/6222-210726090034.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=161003)

[A preserved LMS '3F' 0-6-0T, No. 7277, stops at Port Poppy station with a train to Sillybury. A BR DMU can be seen at Silliness high level terminus station in the background. Everyone in Poppyshire and Sillyshire thinks that line ought to have been closed instead of the one that actually got to Sillybury.]


John spent a good few productive minutes asking Bonzo about some of the details regarding the business relationship between BR and the private railway.

Bertie summed things up in the convivial mood of the evening by suggesting to Gerry and John that it jolly well ought to be possible to run a through carriage from Paddington to Sillybury. "From the Lawn to the sea," as Bertie put it.

Archie, sensing that was a good note upon which to end, suggested they join the ladies, to which all agreed enthusiastically.

John and Gerry were last to leave. They delayed for a couple of seconds at the door and John said, "Bonzo Poppingham is a dark horse. He seems so shy and reserved, but when I asked him for some hard financial facts he was sharp as a razor. I'm mightily impressed with that man."

"So you should be," replied Gerry, "Air Commodore, DSO and Bar, DFC and Two Bars and  an AFC."

"Blimey," said John and they went into the Drawing Room, looking forward to Melissa's delightful company.



     

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – Thirteen)

It was around 9-30 that evening that the six men retired to the Drawing Room to re-join Flic and Melissa.

As they strolled along the wood panelled passageway Archie caught up with Bertie Poppingham, "I say, old chap, I think that this evening has gone remarkably well. Better in fact than I had dared hope. Just one thing though that I didn't want to bring up in front of Gerry and John . Whilst we were inspecting the track around six weeks back we came across an old, dilapidated shed. Inside was a rather old Manning Wardle 0-6-0 saddle tank whilst outside was a sheeted over pile of coal and a very rudimentary water crane. One of the young lads who was part of the inspection party piped up that some  years back his grandfather had driven the locomotive, under cover of darkness, through the grounds of Baskerville Manor with his Lordship, my Grampy Bill, also on the footplate. The young lad claimed that his own grandfather had performed this duty on several occasions in the 1920s. That would most likely  be the source of some of the tales related in the village pub by  some of the older regulars about mysterious steam trains in the night. I don't want Gerry and John to find out as it could, feasibly, sway any decision to help me out with my plans.I'm sure they would be fine about it but best not take any chances,eh".

"Thanks for telling me", replied Bertie, "Your secret is safe with me".

Once everyone was assembled in the drawing room Archie once again addressed his guests :

"I hope you have all enjoyed this evening. Tomorrow morning I  have arranged a trip along my railway from Moretonhampstead station to the site of the new station at Baskerville.  I must extend, at this point, my grateful thanks to John Hammond for organising  this trip. He has kindly arranged to bring an 0-6-0 diesel shunter plus carriage over from Exeter  just for us", at which point everyone spontaneously applauded. "Could I ask that we all assemble in the dining room at 7-00am sharp for breakfast  I have arranged for a small motor coach to collect us at 8-30 to take us to the station and a  departure at 9-15. It should be a good day and, as I mentioned earlier, you will all be in for a big surprise when we travel through the tunnel just after departure. For now though  I wish you all a very good night and I'll see you all in the morning".

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/161/230-220726190424.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=161021)
The little shunter making her way towards Moretonhampstead. She is here passing Hackney Yards at Newton Abbot. It seems that John has arranged a rather special coach for the trip along the railway tomorrow

Meanwhile that same evening :

We return to the Baskerville Arms where Colin Penn is just finishing his final pint before returning to his guest house. By now the pub is almost empty so Colin takes the opportunity to engage the landlord in conversation.

"I hope you don't mind me asking", I said, "I came stay in this area for a Summer holiday several years back as a young boy . My  Uncle, with whom I was staying back then, always teased me about hearing the occasional steam train and this evening there have been veiled hints from one or two locals. Is there any truth in the rumours do you think?"

The landlord gave the very faintest hint of a smile, " 'Tis a bit quiet up 'ere. People do imagine things, specially when the fog do come down. An mighty thick 'tis sometimes. Some do say they 'ave 'eard a stem engine in the past and some do say there be stories of an 'eadless woman roamin' round. Some do talk of 'owlin dogs. 'Tis all twaddle in my opinion. However, if you do go explorin'  I'd stay away from the grounds of the big 'ouse . If that scoundrel of a gamekeeper do catch ee look out. I don't trust 'im so best stay out of 'is way".

I finished my pint then wandered back to my accommodation. By 9-45 I was in bed. My plan for tomorrow was to try to walk the railway line back towards Moretonhampstead if I could once more gain access via the gate in the wall.

To be continued.............

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – Fourteen)

Breakfast at Baskerville Manor was, of course, a lavish affair but everyone had finished  and were seated on the motor coach by 8-30 am as planned.

The six men were joined by Flic and Melissa plus Giles Forsythe, the Baskerville Estate Manager.

By 9-05  all nine were aboard the train. The lone station porter,  who had come up especially from Newton Abbot as Moretonhampstead was officially closed to passenger traffic, loaded seven or eight large picnic hampers, filled with food and drink, aboard whilst the driver checked around the little diesel to ensure that all was well.

"I say old bean", remarked Bertie Poppingham to John Hammond as he surveyed the interior of the Pullman carriage, "You have certainly done us proud with this beauty"

"Only the best" , replied John, "It's a special carriage for a special day. We'll be travelling back down the line to Newton Abbot first then back up here again then onto Baskerville. That will allow us to get a feel for most of the line".

At exactly 9-15 the driver gave a little toot on the horn and they were off.

Over at Mrs Harris' Guest House in Baskerville village  Colin Penn had just finished his omelette with bacon and pork sausages.

He collected the packed lunch, thanked his host and headed off along the main village street in search of the lane  which headed along to the railway.

To be continued........

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – Fifteen)

Continuing Colin Penn's exploration of the lost railway......

I retraced my steps from the previous  day easily finding the lane which led down to where the railway crossed it. I was half expecting the key to the gate to be missing, safely stowed away to prevent someone like me from finding it, but no, it was still there.

I made my way up towards the track bed but instead of turning right, I walked away to my left. The trackside vegetation appeared to be thicker in this direction but the track itself was in good, if nor excellent, condition. After around half a mile I came across a rail over bridge with a lane running below it and a set of steps leading from the road up to the railway tracks. This is where I decided to eat my packed lunch.

After around forty minutes I set off again in the direction of Moretonhampstead. There appeared to be no one around, but then again  I didn't expect to meet anyone However I heard, or thought I heard, what sounded like footsteps coming up the steps from the lane below.  I stopped but could hear or see nothing.Then  after walking for another fifteen minutes I heard the sound of a creature, perhaps a dog, rustling in the bushes to my right.

Again, I turned but could see nothing so I carried on. I assumed the sounds were just my imagination running wild. In another twenty minutes I came across two heavy wooden gates ahead of me. Those gates were firmly locked and bolted. Was this the tunnel just beyond the station at Moretonhampstead? I presumed it was.

As I approached the gates I heard what sounded like a horn from a diesel locomotive. Two short blasts from, it seemed, deep within the tunnel. I looked at my watch, 12-30 exactly. What on earth was going on?

Then I heard a shout from behind me which made me jump, "Hey, you there stop. Stand still. Don't move a muscle"

Around a hundred yards away was a tall, swarthy man with a large, black German Shepherd dog by his side. The man was aiming what looked like a double barrelled shotgun in my direction.

The dog, at the man's command, wandered slowly up to me dropping a brace of pheasant at my feet before he returned, obediently, to his master,

A little earlier.......

The special train made its way slowly from Moretonhampstead to Newton Abbot where it must have looked somewhat incongruous parked at Platform 1. The little diesel was uncoupled then ran around the Pullman carriage in preparation  for the return trip.

The party enjoyed a very pleasant canal side stop for coffee and cakes just beyond  the delightful little village  station  at  Lustleigh before completing the journey to Moretonhampstead where the train  came to a halt just before the gated tunnel mouth.
Giles Forsythe climbed down from the Pullman then unlocked and unbolted the massive gates so that the train could enter the tunnel.

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Those aboard the Special Train enjoyed coffee with cakes at the pretty little canal side village of Lustleigh

The diesel moved slowly forward in virtual darkness about fifty yards whiles the gates were firmly closed behind.

It was then that Archie, head out of the carriage window, called to Giles "Right ho, flick the switch Giles".

The tunnel was suddenly flooded  with light followed by astonished gasps from aboard the train.

There, to the left of the carriage were two beautifully polished steam locomotives, an ex GW small prairie tank and a pannier tank both in beautiful green livery.

"Well", said a beaming Archie, "What do you think?".

Everyone was astonished but before anyone could reply  the little diesel moved very gently forward. Just as it reached the gates at the other end of the tunnel the driver gave two short blasts on his horn.

Giles climbed down once again and proceeded to unlock the massive gates. He was just a  trifle concerned to hear what appeared to be someone shouting on the other side.

To be continued..........


 

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – Sixteen)

Giles Forsythe swung the gates open then stepped out into the sunlight giving a signal to the driver of the diesel to move slowly forward.

Giles was somewhat taken by surprise to see someone who appeared to be rather frightened standing on the bank to the side of the track.

"Who the devil are you?" Asked Giles.

Before Colin Penn could reply the man with the gun walked forward, dog at his heel, shouting "Caught 'im red 'anded. I bin followin' 'im from Baskerville bridge. I knew there be poachers round 'ere lately now I got one of '  can clearly see two birds down by 'is feet".
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Colin looks nervously towards the tunnel as the little diesel, still out of sight, gives two short hoots on the horn. The German Shepherd has dropped a brace of pheasants at Colin's feet

The train, by now, out of the tunnel, came to a halt. Archie, who had been leaning out of the window, climbed down. He approached the rather shaken  man, "Colin......it is Colin isn't it?" What on earth are you doing here old chap?".

With that Archie suddenly remembered Colin's questions about the Dartmoor line when they last met on the sea wall. Colin must have come up here to have a snoop around.

Colin replied, "Archie....I'm sorry, I'm just being a bit  nosey. I'm no poacher, in fact I don't know a pheasant from a chicken. That dog simply dropped those pheasants at my feet".

The man with the gun, who Archie and Giles realised was the estate gamekeeper, was by now standing next to all three men, "See them birds at 'is feet? I knew 'e were up to summat."

Archie butted in "He is up to something but it isn't poaching. If he was he'd have a gun and most likely a poacher's bag. No this is my good friend Colin Penn, he's just having a look around at my invitation. Climb aboard Colin and enjoy the rest of our journey with us".

Archie, of course, hadn't invited Colin but the gamekeeper wasn't to know that.

Archie whispered to Giles, "I knew that gamekeeper was up to something. I've had the stable lad, Tom,  do a bit of snooping  around. It seems that man has been selling our pheasants at the local market but claiming it was poachers. I think we've caught him out. I want him sacked first thing in the morning unless he's got a darned good excuse.

Giles sent the gamekeeper on his way with instructions to be in his office for 7-30 next morning.

The train, now with an extra passenger, continued on its way.

"So, Colin, what's this all about? I think you told me a few days ago that you had a holiday up this way as a young lad and that your uncle had told you stories about a lost railway".

"Exactly right", Colin replied, "I thought I'd come and have a look for myself. I am so sorry if I have trespassed and sorry if I've caused any trouble or bother".

"Not at all, not at all", replied Archie as he introduced Colin to everyone on board, "Now, we are just coming up to the outskirts of Baskerville which is as far as we can go at the moment but you will, of course, join us for luncheon. I think cook has rustled us up a pretty good spread".

Over lunch Archie explained to everyone all about his idea to open the entire section of railway between Moretonhampstead and Okehampton.

Archie continued, "Colin, you will join us for a dinner this evening. I'll not take no for an answer. I believe that Gerry and John will be, hopefully, giving me the nod to continue with my plans for the railway but I'm not counting my chickens just yet. Oh and you'll be very welcome to stay  the night Giles will arrange a room for you".

Colin didn't really know what to say so utrered  a rather nervous thank  you. In truth he was mightily relieved to have escaped whatever punishment the gamekeeper might have had in store.

Soon after two thirty, the little diesel was on its way again. This time reversing the Pullman back towards Moretonhampstead where the motor coach was waiting to take the passengers back to The Manor House, first travelling into Baskerville so that Colin could collect his things from the guest house.

Everyone was looking forward with great anticipation and excitement to  the evening ahead of them.

To be continued.......

The Tale of the Lost Railway - Part seventeen

For the next couple of episodes I am indebted to John @Train Waiting  who has written the text so eloquently

After a detour to collect Colin Penn's luggage from the Guest House, the party returned to Baskerville Manor so that everyone could have plenty of time for a bath and then change for dinner.

Flic had really gone to town with the arrangements for dinner, drafting in additional people to help the Manor's servants. Archie had invited some local dignitaries to join his house guests at dinner and, hopefully, hear a positive response from Gerry Fiennes and John Hammond to his plan to re-open the Moretonhampstead branch to passenger traffic, connecting with his private railway to run through to Okehampton.

Their assistance with the important matter of Ministry of Transport approval for the private railway to open to passenger traffic would be essential.



The changing bell rang at 6.30 and, by 7.00 the house guests had assembled in the library for drinks. Archie and Flic stood by the door of the library to welcome their evening guests when they were announced by the butler.

At 7.45, Flic led her guests in for dinner. Due to the numbers present, this was served in the Manor's Ball Room which was magnificently decorated for the occasion. There were two long tables, arranged side-by-side along the main axis of the room. Across the room, at one end, was High Table, on a dais, set for five.

During the day, Archie had spoken to Bertie and Bonzo, inviting them to join him at High Table. To his slight surprise, both had declined, preferring to be seated with the other guests. Although Archie knew both of them, he didn't know them as well as you do and you won't be in the slightest surprised at this. At Bertie's suggestion, Flic had arranged for he and Bonzo to be seated at end places of each of the long tables, with a somewhat over-awed Colin Penn opposite Bonzo and Ron Parker opposite Bertie.

Archie sat in the middle chair at High Table, with Flic at his right and Melissa to his left. Gerry Fiennes sat next to Flic, with John Hammond at the other end, next to the lovely Melissa. These two gentleman enjoyed enchanting company for dinner.

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Archie had arranged to open several bottles of wine from the cellars which had been retained for this very occasion

Looking at High Table, Bertie allowed himself a moment of self-satisfaction - that was precisely the arrangement he had suggested to Archie. The dinner was absolutely fabulous and Ron was greatly relieved to be seated opposite his new friend, who had, of course worked his magic on the butler and a young footman kept that end of the table well-supplied with lashings 'N' lashings of fine, foaming Devonshire ale.

Although the guests were in black-tie order for the occasion, there were four exceptions. Realising that neither Ron nor Colin would have the correct clothes, Bertie and Bonzo were informally attired - Bonzo in a neat grey suit and Bertie in a yellow-ish tweed suit with a loud purple check. Apart, perhaps, from Gerry Fiennes, no other man in the room could have carried off that garish garment; they would have looked like someone who had escaped from a circus.

Ron told Bertie how much he had liked meeting Gerry Fiennes and had enjoyed Gerry's anecdote about a locomotive, thirty-seven wagons and a brake van ending up in Granton Dock in the autumn of 1939.

"Granton," said Bertie, "I've a good chum who used to live there. A Welsh chap - he's delightful company, you'd like him enormously."

Colin enjoyed talking to Bonzo but, at one point, asked about his War service. Bonzo mentioned he had been stationed in Kent for a while and then went on to say that there were some lovely wild flowers to be seen in the Weald. Although a young journalist, Colin realised his question was being diverted in the most polite and gentle manner and resolved to look into the War service of this courteous and diffident man.

To be continued........

The Tale of the Lost Railway  - Part Eighteen

Once again I am indebted to @Train Waiting for this episode

After dinner, Archie stood up to address his guests:

"My Lord, Distinguished Guests.

Thank you for joining Flic and I this evening. I wanted an opportunity to inform you of a little project which I hope to address. But first, I'd like to introduce two distinguished railway officers. To the left Mr John Hammond, the General Manager of British Railways, Western Region. [Applause]

And, on my right, Mr Gerard Francis Gisborne Twisleton-Wykeham-Fiennes, who prefers to be called Gerry Fiennes [Laughter], Chief Operating Officer at the British Railways Board. [Applause]

Like all of you here, I was disappointed when British Railways withdrew passenger services on the Newton Abbot to Moretonhampstead line in February 1959. Of course, it's still open for goods traffic, but it seems that is declining. Earlier today, Mr Hammond kindly arranged a special inspection train over the line for which I'm especially grateful.

Some of you might be vaguely aware of rumours of a railway beyond Moretonhampstead which have been circulating locally for years. Tonight, I should like to inform you the rumours are true. [Gasps]

At the instigation of my Grandfather, a railway was built between Moreton and Okehampton, over privately-owned land. The Great War intervened before it could be inspected by the Board of Trade. After the  War, my grandfather became involved with several  other, more urgent projects and my own father, not interested in railway matters, failed to resurrect the plan. In around nineteen-twenty, the tunnels at Moretonhampstead, Baskerville and Okehampton were gated and both sides of the track became overgrown, thus creating the illusion that no railway ever existed.

Over the past year, I have arranged for much of the vegetation to be cleared and have requested British Railways to consider re-opening the Moreton branch for passenger traffic and for facilitating connections with our private railway to permit through traffic. Furthermore, I hope British Railways will be able to assist with the matter of an inspection to have our railway passed for passenger traffic.

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Just the sort of local train that can be expected on Newton Abbot to Okehampton services

This is where the matter has got to and I hope we will hear this evening if the idea has any chance of success."

As Archie sat down, there was loud and sustained applause. When it eventually died down, Gerry Fiennes rose to speak.

"My Lord, Ladies and Gentlemen.

Branch lines are perceived as a problem for British Railways. Many of them lose substantial amounts of money as costs exceed receipts. Although the private companies closed some branch lines to passenger traffic before the last War - my own LNER was probably the leader in this - most remained open for what we are now meant to call freight. But even that is declining, leaving the option of very many complete closures within the next handful of years a distinct possibility.

However, little serious attempt has been made to reduce the costs associated with these lines to see if they could actually survive. Maybe not reduced quite as far as the late Col Stephens achieved - [Laughter] but still with major savings. What one might call a 'Basic Railway'. I believe that, by altered methods of working, we could see our way to making at least some rural railways profitable. Mr Hammond - John - has been very supportive regarding my ideas.

As such, we are glad to inform you that we intend to recommend to the Western Region Board that the Moretonhampstead line be re-opened to passenger traffic by the end of this year - [Cheers] and that, providing Ministry approval is forthcoming, British Railways will run trains, Monday to Saturday, from Newton Abbot to Okehampton, using running powers over the private railway." [Loud applause]

Gerry sat down and Archie stood again.

"Thank you very much, Gerry and John. That is excellent news. I welcome British Railways' investment and, of course, the line from Moreton to Okehamptoon will be financed by my estate.

I'm glad to inform you that Devon County Council, Newton Abbot Rural District Council and Okehampton Rural District Council have all given the plan their enthusiastic support as have our local Members of Parliament.

With regard to Sundays, it is my intention to work special trains for visitors and railway enthusiasts, over our line from Moreton to Okehampton.

The estate will purchase locomotives from Western Region and Mr Hammond has arranged for these to be repaired at Newton Abbot works. These officially closed for steam work last year, 1960, but a special exemption has been made in this case.

For the future, I'm glad to announce that Lord Pandaford has generously agreed to assist us open a SPAM Workshop at Baskerville, so steam will continue to be heard on Dartmoor for years to come. [Applause]

In addition, the Honourable Bonzo Poppingham has kindly agreed to help us with the financial and administrative aspects of our railway - we intend to learn a great deal from what our friends have achieved in Poppyshire and Sillyshire. [Applause]

Before we adjourn for drinks I'd like to ask John Hammond if he has anything to add."

Archie sat down and John rose to his feet.

"Thank you very much, Archie for your idea, your enthusiasm and your substantial financial investment in this project. You will attend to the staffing of the private railway so that it meets Ministry requirements and allows Western Region to safely run trains over it. This is an innovative arrangement and will require close liaison at a local level. Late this afternoon I telephoned two trades union leaders to sound them out and they gave the plan their tentative backing. I wasn't surprised by this as I was offering to retain all the present staff on the Moretonhampstead line - they were anticipating redundancies. [Applause]

Finally, and I hope this isn't unfair to mention in public, I will ask Ronald Parker to remain station master at Moretonhampstead and have the additional responsibility for liaison with the private railway." [Cheers and applause.]

As John sat down amidst the applause , Bertie sprang to his feet and shook Ron's hand.

Archie rose to his feet one last time, "I know that Gerry and John have to return to their respective offices early tomorrow but I invite everyone else to The Baskerville Arms for six thirty tomorrow evening where the plans will be revealed to the public. The drinks will be on me"
[applause]

To be continued.........

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – Nineteen)

The following evening saw crowds gather at the Baskerville Arms.

Archie and Flic were seated at a large table set on a dais at the far corner of the public bar. Also seated at the table were Bertie, Bonzo and Colin Penn.

At precisely 7-00pm Archie rose to his feet to a hearty round of applause from the assembled gathering of some sixty people representing virtually the entire population of Baskerville and its surrounding farms and tiny hamlets.

"Good Evening everyone and thank you for attending. First things first the drinks this evening are all paid for by myself [enthusiastic applause].Now, onto the main reason that I have invited you all here...."

Archie went  on to describe his plans for the railway between Newton Abbot and Okehampton in detail. There were several positive questions from the assembled villagers before he continued.

"There will be trains running between Newton Abbot and Moretonhampstead from as early as the beginning of next month. These trains will be steam hauled initially but we expect the locomotives to be replaced by diesel multiple units over the course of the next few years as is the case across the country. My team and I plan to develop a new station here at Baskerville with a proposed opening date of January 1st 1962.

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/161/230-040826180940.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=161289)
An artists impression of the new station and yard proposed for Baskerville. The station building is bottom left with the SPAM workshop top right. Immediately in front of the workshop is the new public house

Next , I am fully aware that we are in the most delightful public house in the area [hearty cheers] but I plan to open a second such establishment in the grounds of Baskerville station. To this end I would like to invite our genial host and landlord here, if he is willing, to take on the management of the new public house along with this one with each establishment complementing the other.

I have also asked my very dear friend Lord Pandaford, Bertie to you and I,  sitting to my right here, to allow me to construct a small, but lavishly equipped,  railway engineering workshop adjacent to the station. It is plan to which he has readily agreed. The workshop, which goes by the name SPAM, will allow the creation of several new jobs in the area alongside an engineering apprenticeship scheme in conjunction with Newton Abbot Technical College. [applause].

Bertie's brother Bonzo has agreed to help us by applying his business acumen to the project. He intends to draw up a comprehensive business plan over the next few weeks.

I have agreed with senior managers at British Railways that once the track overhauled to current standards  between  Moretonhampstead and Okehampton they will extend trains from Newton right through to Okehampton. The target date for commencement of such through running, Mondays to Saturdays,  is Easter 1962.

On Sundays the section between Moretonhampstead and Okehampton will be operated  by my Estate team, along with volunteers, as a tourist railway utilising preserved steam locomotives purchased from British Railways and maintained at the workshops here in Baskerville. It is my belief that such a railway will bring many visitors to the area which can only be good news for  local businesses. [more loud applause and cheering].

The only  remaining task is to name the new public house. I invite suggestions, in sealed envelopes. The winner will be decided by a public vote of all the entries and the prize will be a place on the footplate of the first steam train to Okehampton".

There was more applause  followed by the landlord rushing up to Archie and shaking him vigorously by the hand, "Thank you so much Archie, what a wonderful idea. It will be such a boost for the local area and I am delighted to accept your invitation to manage the new pub alongside this one".

Meanwhile Colin Penn, who had been sitting quietly at the top table whilst taking copious notes would have the scoop of his lifetime for the local newspaper and perhaps, with any luck, he could sell his story to a couple of the big national titles.

To be concluded next time.........

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – Twenty)

Some three months later things were starting to move forward rather quickly.

Colin Penn, in his role as a journalist, had done a wonderful job in  bringing the railway to the attention of not only the Devon public but also the good folk of British Isles as a whole.

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June 12th 1962 would see a very special train working down to Devon from Paddington to commemorate the opening of The Lost Railway. In the months preceding that date, however, many enthusiasts specials were operated from various parts of the country. The train seen here has come down from Birmingham

Bonzo Poppingham completed his business plan which involved working with British Railways, Devon County Council, two local Urban District Councils, The Railway Inspectorate, The Ministry of Transport and local landowners.
Bonzo had presented his plan in such a way that all organisations were entirely enthusiastic by  providing help and advice  in their individual ways. The public at large were, of course, invited to comment.There were no objectors at all. In fact the only comments received were encouraging, positive ones.

Giles Forsythe took on an extra role to co-ordinate the volunteer support scheme that would, largely due to Colin Penn's excellent publicity articles, become a huge success.

Ron Parker had taken up his position as Station Master at Moretonhampsted with additional responsibility for overseeing operations at the intermediate stations most of which were manned and maintained by volunteers.

By December 5th the new station at Baskerville was completed nearly a month ahead of schedule allowing trains to reach there from Newton Abbot for the very first time.

Bertie Poppingham had brought together a team of some of the finest railway engineers and fitters for the SPAM workshop which was lavishly  fitted out with the  latest machinery and equipment.

The very first ex BR locomotive, purchased from BR at a very generous cost to Archie Hardcastle,  had, by mid November,  been refurbished at Newton Abbot works. It  arrived at the SPAM facility at the end of November  for final inspection, to the most exacting standards, and to undergo acceptance trials. A few wagons and two carriages arrived  shortly after.

The new public house adjacent to the station was also opened on December 5th. A competition to name it was won by a local railway enthusiast with the prize being  a footplate ride over the new line.  The name for the new establishment was "The Ghost Railway".

Lofty Levers, who had worked as a signalman at both Perranwell Station in Cornwall and at Teignmouth, was appointed, in his semi retirement, as signalman based at Moretonhampstead but with responsibility for overseeing signalling along the whole line.

Plans were, by early 1962, well advanced. The continuation of the track from Baskerville to Okehampton was well underway.

The grand opening of the entire route from Newton Abbot to Okehampton took place on June 12th 1962. A special train, originating at London Paddington,  was organised to bring various dignitaries, including Prime Minister Harold Macmillan along with the most senior of BR staff, to the official opening event.

Bertie Poppingham, a great friend of the PM, would, naturally, be in attendance along with his brother Bonzo.

Archie Hardcastle had drawn up a list of the great and good, including a number of ordinary local residents, to be aboard that inaugural train.

June 12th 1962 would be a momentous day in mid Devon.

The End...............(for now).

Footnote : The storyline on this thread will end here but some of the characters and events will resurface, occasionally, on my Sea Wall thread.

 :hellosign:  :greatpicturessign:
  Very enjoyable thank you Martin
  :beers: stay safe regards Derek