Showing posts with label Queen Victoria. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Queen Victoria. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 22, 2020

The ‘Portsmouth Lines’ Once More

Passengers resigned to the sedate progress of trains running out from London via Streatham, Mitcham or Carshalton towards Sutton, Epsom, Leatherhead and Dorking might be surprised to discover that, in railway parlance, these are referred to as the ‘Portsmouth lines’.  A strange name, because none of the suburban trains trundling down this way are bound for anywhere nearly as exotic.  Most are content to fizzle out at Epsom or Dorking; the furthest south any direct passenger trains get is the hourly service to Horsham in Sussex.  But this name, hidden away in the technicalities of railway operation, is a clue to the lines past glories.

Detail (click image to enlarge) of the current railway network of south London, Surrey and West Sussex.  Most of these lines were built by the old London, Brighton and South Coast Railway.  The so-called ‘Portsmouth lines’ run south from Peckham Rye via Tulse Hill, Streatham, Mitcham Junction, Sutton, Epsom and Dorking to Horsham.  London expresses from the south coast formerly used this route between Horsham and the connection at Streatham with the main line into Victoria, but since 1978 have run via Three Bridges and East Croydon.

Because communication on the railway must always be clear and unambiguous, almost every piece of infrastructure — junctions, bridges, tunnels, signals — has an accepted name or number by which drivers, track workers, signallers and engineers alike can be sure they are discussing the right thing.  This goes for every running line on the network, too: every individual track that carries trains has a particular name.  This is usually of two or three words, and generally giving some indication of the line’s route and its direction.  On a four-track main line, for example, there is usually an ‘Up Fast’ or ‘Up Main’, the track carrying expresses towards the railway’s main centre (traditionally either London or Derby), then a ‘Down Fast’ for those coming the other way, and Up and Down ‘Slows’ or ‘Reliefs’ for stopping trains.  All over the place there are ‘Loops’ and ‘Spurs’ or sometimes ‘Reversible’ lines for stretches of bi-directional track.   All this means that tracks and routes can be recognised and distinguished from each other immediately, even at complex junctions.  It allows a driver to communicate a train’s exact position to a signalling centre miles away, or a track worker knows where to aim his pick-axe, and so on.

A diagram of Streatham South Junction from an old version of the Sectional Appendix for Kent and Sussex.  See p. 511 onwards for the entirety of the ‘Portsmouth’ lines.

As with so much on the railways, these names have often been established for decades, even surviving changes in the use of the track itself.  So it is with the ‘Up and Down Portsmouth’, which begin at Peckham Rye in south London of all places, where the lines branch off to the south-west from the South London line out of London Bridge.  The tracks keep their Portsmouth name as far as Leatherhead, the last junction on the line.  Between there and Horsham, since there is no diverging route from which they need to be distinguished, the two tracks are known simply as the ‘Up and Down Main’.

Nowadays this line is seldom thought of as a through route at all; no direct trains travel its whole length in ordinary service.  But its builders, the London, Brighton and South Coast Railway, really did have their sights set on a far prize when they completed it in 1868.  Via Tulse Hill, Streatham, Mitcham Junction, Sutton, Epsom, Leatherhead and Dorking they established a new route to Horsham, and, by running thence onto the Arun Valley line southwards to Arundel and the junction at Ford, to the south coast: Bognor, Littlehampton and the line along the coast to Chichester and Portsmouth.  (On the approach to Portsmouth the L.B.S.C.R. ran afoul of its competitor, the London and South Western, whose rival Portsmouth Direct line offered another, quicker route from London Waterloo via Guildford and Haslemere.  Competition between the two companies had ignited into outright conflict and actual blockades in the so-called Battle of Havant in 1859.)

The L.B.S.C.R. and its successors’ expresses to Portsmouth and Bognor went via Sutton and Dorking for many years.  They generally ran to and from London Victoria, joining and leaving the original route via the spurs and junctions at Streatham where it crosses the Brighton Main Line. (This remains the principal route for trains on this line).  The highest honour in the line’s history was surely on the 2nd February 1901, when Queen Victoria’s funeral train came this way.  She had died at Osborne House on the Isle of Wight on the 22nd January; her body was carried from Portsmouth to London at speeds reported to have reached 80mph.

A video uploaded to Youtube by ‘Bogglesham’ of trains at Dorking (North) station in 1972, including some serving the south coast.  Update: this film can be seen in higher quality here: https://player.bfi.org.uk/free/film/watch-last-years-of-victoria-to-portsmouth-expresses-1977-online

Those days are almost forgotten now.  Regular expresses via Sutton and Dorking came to an end in 1978, when they were almost all re-routed, at least in part in order to serve the rapidly-expanding airport at Gatwick.  Trains coming up the Arun Valley now take the longer but faster-timed route via the Brighton Main Line, running east to Crawley, joining the main line at Three Bridges, and heading for London via Gatwick Airport and East Croydon.  Meanwhile the old line has been relegated to a back route, the service along its southern section especially being cut back to a pretty sparse offering until the improvements of the new timetable of 2018.  Yet even down here the past was not quite buried: at the junction immediately north of Horsham station, the lines to and from Dorking are still referred to as the Up and Down Main’ and the busier lines to Three Bridges merely as the Up and Down Horsham.


A video by ‘thetransporthub on Youtube including a diverted London Victoria – Gatwick train racing through Ockley station earlier this year with that now-rare sound, the glorious percussion of wheels over traditional jointed track at nearly 75 mph.  Sadly for railway romantics, the track is likely to be replaced in August 2021.

Not altogether forgotten, then.  Memories are long on the railways, and about once a year the old route is used for diversions during engineering works, sometimes for trains serving Gatwick but at other times, as at November half-term this year, from distant, far-flung Portsmouth itself (a place whose existence is unimaginable in this pandemic year).  The normal route being closed at Crawley for the installation of a new footbridge, the Portsmouth and Bognor expresses were once again sent the old way.  Running non-stop from Horsham to Clapham Junction apart from an unadvertised call at Epsom (perhaps to pick up or set down a guard, or for a crew change) they offered the unusual sight of twelve coach trains sweeping, if not exactly at high speed, up and down to London from the south coast along a line that is now effectively a suburban branch.  After ten months without any of my usual railway adventures, it was nice to see the ‘Portsmouth lines’ regain, however briefly, a glimmer of their former glory.

Update, 30th December 2020: A shame that a landslip on the embankment near Ockley has scuppered the reprise of this arrangement that had been due this week.

A diverted up express slows for the curves at Mitcham Junction, 21st November 2020.  Ordinarily it would run via Gatwick Airport and East Croydon; today it has been sent via the scenic route.

Thursday, December 31, 2015

Time and Christmastide

Yes, indeed, Happy Christmas to one and all!  I hope both readers are keeping a merry Feast.  

What is it, I wonder, that Christmastide does to our sense of time?   For time in these twelve days does not seem only linear and horizontal, as it does usually.  There is a strange sensation that, as we pass through this diamond in the ring of the year, time is distorted and refracted so that ancient things feel much closer than normal.  And there is that slanted sunlight, T.S. Eliot’s ‘midwinter spring’ and the ‘glare that is blindness in the early afternoon’, that shines as if out of the past.  Peter Hitchens has written simply and beautifully here of ‘the feeling of the world holding its breath, the bells, the haunting light from the low sun, the sensation of the past being mixed up with the present’, whose effect he describes as being weaker now than in the ‘austere Protestant Britain’ of his youth.

To some extent this has to do, of course, with ringing the old year out and the new in.  I think, however, that the mystery of time is bound up with the very heart of Christmas, rather than the New Year.  Every year we churchgoers mark a chronological conundrum.  The central and fathomless mystery is, of course, that God, who is timeless, made a direct intervention in human history, clambering through the narrow doors of time to live on earth beside us.  Even as we consider this moment, though, we must look at once backwards and forwards.  We cannot understand it fully without knowing that it had already been foretold by prophets; neither can we understand it without the Cross in the backs of our minds, as the gift of myrrh (for embalming) and several carols remind us.  Nor can we contemplate Christmas without turning to the mystery of the future, towards which the whole faith points.  So we look backwards to a past event, then we look both further backwards, then slightly forwards again, and finally turn right around in order to look forwards properly.  Christmas is perfect, pluperfect, future in the past (if that is the right term) and future.

This sensation is so strong that it has survived, even if weakened as Peter Hitchens says, into the secular world.  Is this not the only time of year when we leave our twenty-first century cynicism aside to take up old customs again without critiquing or scoffing, when we exchange cards depicting scenes of choristers and snowed-on English spires, when supermarkets play old-fashioned music in earnest, when, as Betjeman observed in a moment of dryness, ‘girls in slacks remember Dad / And oafish louts remember Mum’, or when we decorate our houses and wear party-hats without knowing why, except that an invisible but benevolent force obliges us to?  

The more I look for evidence of this overlapping and mingling of time past and time to come with the present moment, the more I find.  There is the famous example of Dickens’ three ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future in A Christmas Carol.  It is in T.S. Eliot’s poem The Cultivation of Christmas Trees.  His portrait of Christmas as seen by a child — a child
For whom the candle is a star, and the gilded angel 
Spreading its wings at the summit of the tree 
Is not only a decoration, but an angel.
and who
wonders at the Christmas Tree: 
Let him continue in the spirit of wonder 
At the Feast as an event not accepted as a pretext […]
— turns seamlessly to a contemplation of the eve of life, still hanging upon that line ‘Let him continue in the spirit of wonder,
So that the reverence and the gaiety 
May not be forgotten in later experience, 
In the bored habituation, the fatigue, the tedium, 
The awareness of death, the consciousness of failure […]

So that before the end, the eightieth Christmas 

(By “eightieth” meaning whichever is last) 
The accumulated memories of annual emotion 
May be concentrated into a great joy 
Which shall be also a great fear, as on the occasion 
When fear came upon every soul: 
Because the beginning shall remind us of the end 
And the first coming of the second coming.
And here it is in these words of the Queen during her Christmas address:
At this time of year, few sights evoke more feelings of cheer and goodwill than the twinkling lights of a Christmas tree.  The popularity of a tree at Christmas is due in part to my great-great grandparents, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. After this touching picture was published, many families wanted a Christmas tree of their own, and the custom soon spread.

Thus Her Majesty draws our attention to two heirlooms which continue, almost miraculously it might seem, to bind us in 2015 to the Victorian age: the Christmas tree and her own British crown.  Her words, which we are invited to bear in mind for the coming year, make the past feels much nearer and more familiar.  (By the way, what presidential address could say anything like this?).

I can hear it too in this carol, the ‘other’ setting by Harold Darke of Rosetti’s carol In the Bleak Midwinter, which seems to be being sung longer ago than 2000, and further away than Cambridge…


Perhaps we might expect to be frightened by this confusion of time.  I feel only wonder and enchantment, and so I willingly answer the Queen’s invitation to be ‘grateful for all that brings light to our lives’, and echo her quotation from St John’s Gospel: ‘The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’

Wednesday, September 09, 2015

‘Queen indeed over a Kingdom worthy, the World's wonder.’

Today our Queen Elizabeth becomes the British throne’s longest-reigning monarch,  surpassing her great-great-grandmother Queen Victoria’s reign of sixty-three years and two hundred and sixteen days.  With John Masefield’s Laureate Coronation lines in my mind, I wonder whether we have deserved her, for all that this country might, as I still believe quietly, be in with a shout of being the ‘World’s wonder’.


May God save the Queen, and bring forth Masefield’s hoped-for 
‘…season of the springing seed
Of all a People one in an endeavour
To make our Sovereign lady Queen indeed
Over a Kingdom worthy, the World’s wonder.’