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.




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.


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.


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