Lost Lines

A few will be aware I have been known to speak on various subjects over the years. Fundamentally these all revolve around my favourite subject of etymology. Have always enjoyed bringing this fascinating subject to others. It’s not for me to say whether the audiences have, although many have asked me to return.

Thought it might be worthwhile sharing a snippet or two from these etymological presentations, continuing with Lost Lines. In 1963 the infamous Beeching Report saw the closure of more than 2,500 railway stations and the lifting of 5,000 miles of track. This released a large amount of land that has since been put to an amazing array of uses. The gentle gradients that were once perfect for trains are in turn perfect as footpaths and cycleways. Stations have become refreshment stops or cycle hire premises on leisure routes. Yards now serve as recreation sites, grassland, retail parks or housing developments. And there are the unusual and quirky: signal boxes used as greenhouses, hen coops and art studios; railway sheds housing mechanics, youth groups and dance studios; and, of course, much has simply become overgrown. There is a PowerPoint presentation to accompany this talk if required.

One route where the rails have been removed is the 21-mile long Cinder Track from Scarborough to Whitby. I use this example simply because I enjoyed this walking/cycling route and the views it affords. Being a former railway track, the gradients are very easy – certainly another plus.

Starting at Scarborough the first sign of a stop comes at Hayburn Wyke Station after around 7 miles. Opening on 16 July 1885 on the up side of the line, it was quickly moved to the down side on the request of the North Eastern Railway. Rebuilt in 1893 it closed temporarily between 1 March 1917 and 2 May 1921. Reduced to an unstaffed halt in 1955, it closed permanently on 8 March 1965. The former stationmaster’s house is still a private residence and the platform very evident.

Ravenscar, the resort that never was, is around the halfway point. Planned as a Victorian resort, the streets were laid out, along with the sewers and drainage, but none of the planned buildings appeared. Approaching from either direction it is the steepest part of the route, and that was the problem. The path down to the beach was a long descent and climb, but the real end came when the company went bust.

Flying Hall Station is three miles further along. It only ever served a population of around 200, and today little evidence can be seen as the platform is very much overgrown.

Robin Hood’s Bay station is 15 miles along, where the station building survives, the stationmaster’s house is now holiday accommodation, and the goods shed is now the village hall.

Hawsker station has only ever been a small intermediate stop, ticket sales reflect this. Indeed, as the headquarters of Trailways Cycle Hire, it likely has more ‘paying customers’ annually today than before it closed in 1965.

Larpool Viaduct, also known as the Esk Valley Viaduct, is among the highlights of the journey. With excellent views over the valley it also crosses the North Yorkshire Moors Railway shortly after it leaves Whitby.

Whitby marks the end, where both the modern railways services, the heritage steam line, and the Cinder Track all terminate.

If you think you know someone who would like to hear me speak on this subject, drop me a line.

Bridge Idioms

Several words have become part of the language in being used in phrases. Last time we looked at ‘hot’ and now look at ‘bridge’. Incidentally the original idea of a ‘bridge’ would be seen more as a walkway through modern eyes, for it was simply a beam of log laid across wetland.

Bridge of the nose has only been seen since the early 15th century.

A bridge on a stringed instrument is not described as such until the late 14th century.

Interestingly the bridge on a ship is not found in print until 1843, although prior to that the ‘ship’s bridge’ was a narrow platform from where the captain gave out orders rather than an enclosed area.

Bridge as a card game is certainly seen from 1886, although some sources point to an earlier reference from 1843 – the latter is questioned as it may not have been the same game.

Footbridges have been seen in writing since around the early 16th century.

Drawbridge, as associated with castles, are described as such from around 1300.

Suspension bridge is first seen in 1819, although the same technology existed prior to this and was described as a suspended bridge from 1796.

Bridgehead is used to mean ‘that part of the bridge closest to the enemy’ from 1801; and not until 1930 did the term come to be viewed as ‘that part of the advance closest to the enemy’. Essentially the same thing, albeit the former is more defensive and the latter invasive.

The place name of Woodbridge would seem to be of obvious derivation but, with there no obvious location for a bridge here and its close proximity to the site of Sutton Hoo, it has been suggested this may refer to odde breg or ‘the promontory of the king’. More in my Suffolk Place Names

The place name of Weybridge is as it would appear, ‘the bridge over the River Wey’. More in my Surrey Place Names

The place name of Uxbridge comes from ‘Wixan’s bridge’. More in my Middlesex Place Names

The place name of Tonbridge is from ‘the bridge at the farmstead’.

The place name of Stourbridge is, unsurprisingly, ‘the bridge on the River Stour’.

The place name of Stocksbridge is said to have been a bridge built by John Stocks near his fulling mill in the early 18th century.

The place name of Stalybridge began as steaf leah or ‘the wood where staves are obtained’, the addition clearly coming when the bridge was built here.

The place name of Sowerby Bridge takes its name from the name of the bridge here. More in my West Yorkshire Place Names

The place name of Kingsbridge in Devon is self-explanatory.

The place name of Bruges comes from the Flemish brug meaning ‘bridge’.

The place name of Bristol is recorded as Brycgstow in Middle English, this tells us it was ‘the assembly place at a bridge’. This has acquired the modern spelling through the local pronunciation of adding ‘l’ to words ending in vowels or vowel sounds.

Don't Pull the Communication Cord

July 1st 1907 and at 2pm the London and North West Railway's express from Liverpool stops at Tamworth after someone had pulled the communication cord. When the guard investigated he found it had been pulled by Mrs Higham, none other than the wife of the MP for Sowerby in Yorkshire. She claimed her son of 3.1/2 had fallen from the train. Quickly all stations and signalmen on the line between Tamworth and Stafford were alerted and all traffic stopped as the search began.

By 4:30pm news filtered through that the child had been found near Hademore Crossing and was being treated by a district nurse at the cottage of a Mrs Smith near Whittington Bridge. In Tamworth the stationmaster, a Mr Matthews, stopped the down train and accompanied Mrs Higham as she went to check on her son. They arrived at the same time as Dr Homan who reported the child to have been badly hurt but would live. He had been discovered by a platelayer ganger working on the line. Noticing movement at the side of the line he investigated and found the young boy. He had carried the child to the cottage after sending his colleague for the district nurse whom he had seen cycling past just moments earlier.

How the door came open on a train travelling at 60mph was never explained, although he was a large child for his age and perhaps he had done something to contribute to the accident. Indeed, his bulk will have helped protect him as an examination of the trackside revealed he had collided with and broken a number of large stones as he bounced along for some 40 yards before coming to rest alongside the line used by traffic in the opposite direction. Although conscious he had not attempted to move which was fortunate indeed as the down express had passed him two minutes after he came to rest here. The driver of the down train had seen the body of the child but surmised he must have hit the mother, hence stopping at Lichfield to raise the alert.

Later that evening Mr Higham MP arrived from London Euston. He made a statement in the House the following day, thanking all those who had had a hand in the rescue and informing them his son was "progressing nicely".

Perhaps the oddest part of this potentially tragic tale came in the form of the newspaper headline, for the Lichfield Mercury led with the odd choice of EXCITEMENT ON THE TRAIN LINE NEAR LICHFIELD.