Signalman's evocative memories of the Thames-Clyde Express

The train brought a little magic with it. A whiff of the grandeur of the capital city.

In our imaginations the people on board were impossibly glamorous, travelling between wonderful places. We also knew that within the hour the train would be among the hills of the Yorkshire Dales.

The locomotives hauling the train were a source of fascination. One class of engine that became strongly associated with the Thames-Clyde Express was the so-called ‘Jubilee’ class. They came into being when the LMS named one engine Silver Jubilee to commemorate the Jubilee of King George V in 1935.

Midland Railway Compounds became synonymous with the rank of the Thames-Clyde Express between Leeds and Carlisle. No.1000 is seen piloting V2 no. 4771 Green arrow through Rodley Cutting in 1980. Picture: Gavin Morrison

Author David Pendleton at work in Shipley-Hellifield Junction signal box, 1990

The rest of the engines were named after admirals, naval battles, warships and the dominions and colonies of the British Empire. They were a mobile classroom for those on the line side: Basutoland, North Borneo, Saskatchewan, Udaipur, Windward Islands; Nelson, Colossus, Dreadnought, Thunderer.

By the time I was sat on the clifftops of Wrose, watching the panorama of Shipley below, the steam engines had been replaced by diesel engines, but still the appearance of the fabled Thames-Clyde Express was a thrill.

The long-distance train weaved its way through the incessant parcel trains heading in and out of Bradford Forster Square and the diesel units climbing towards Baildon and to Ilkley.

Little did I know that one day I would be in charge of one of Shipley station’s signal boxes, wrestling with the complexities of a triangular station with several bi-directional platforms.

Even today, with numerous information screens and announcements, many a passenger can be befuddled by the station at Shipley.

The author was once in charge of the complicated Shipley-Bingley Junction Signal Box. Number 47005 is seen here in 1983, about to pass the box. Picture: Gavin Morrison

Trains to Bradford, Leeds and Skipton can depart from two different platforms at opposite sides of the station. It’s easy to get caught in between platforms, with trains to the same destination in the station at the same time, trying to work out which train will depart first.

I commenced my railway career at Steeton level crossing box. It was a gentle beginning for a new starter, but it wasn’t long until I was promoted to the more challenging signal box at the north side of Shipley’s triangle.

It was confusingly named Shipley Bingley Junction. Maintenance staff would often ring up from Bingley trying to find the box. I had to explain that it was the junction for Bingley at Shipley. They had similar fun at Shipley’s other two signal boxes; Bradford Junction and Guiseley Junction.

With three signal boxes on each side of the triangle, the communal circuit phones, on which all three boxes could be speaking simultaneously, were often in use. In essence, it was a game of railway chess, as each regulating decision impacted on all three boxes; working closely together was the key.

The rebuilt Scot no. 46113 Cameronian heading north past Gargrave signal box in 1959. Picture: Gavin Morrison

Hellifield, where the author first gained a fascination with the Thames-Clyde Express, 1966. It was once an important junction on the network. Picture: Gavin Morrison

When I was at Shipley in the 1980s I was fortunate to have to old hand signalmen at the two other boxes. Both had very different temperaments, but were adept in operating the complex station and they were very patient with the new boy.

Shipley Bingley Junction signal box closed in 1995, but thanks to the enthusiasm of several local railway workers, and the support of the Keighley and Worth Valley Railway, the box was saved and moved by rail to its present location at Keighley station in 1995.

With changes imminent at Shipley, I moved to Hellifield and in essence that is where my book On the Tracks of the Thames-Clyde Express began.

Author and former signalman David Pendleton

The isolation of being a signalman - and they were almost all men back then - wasn’t for everyone, but for those who didn’t mind their own company, there can be few finer occupations.

I worked alongside a self-taught violinist, a player of chess by internal mail with people from all corners of the rail network and, most of all, voracious readers. Everything and anything was read. Signal boxes often had miniature libraries of long-read books and massively out of date newspapers and magazines.

Flower boxes and vegetable gardens were fairly regular features, Settle Junction even had a rudimentary greenhouse.

Every box had cleaning days, where brasses were polished, floors mopped and windows cleaned. Visitors with muddy feet, or who touched the gleaming lever tops, were likely to find a frosty reception.

Almost every box had its regular, and highly unofficial visitors, family members, railway enthusiasts and even the local vicar in one case. Many were as adept at working their adopted signal boxes as the signalmen themselves.

2P 4-4-0 No. 40685 and rebuilt 'Scot' No. 46109 Royal Engineer bring the up TCE into Leeds on 25th May 1960. The pilot was intended to assist up the long climb out of Carlisle, but by this date drivers were complaining that it could be more of a hindrance than a help. Picture by Gavin Morrison.

Occasionally the train carried its locomotive-style headboard as seen her on number D15 approaching Hellifield in 1961. Picture: Gavin Morrison

During night shifts, on the communal telephone system, the old-hand signalmen would swap stories about the signalman’s error that turned an Anglo-Scottish express into a funeral pyre on the lonely hills of Ais Gill, of long wartime trains carrying coal to the Grand Fleet at Scapa Flow, of flashes of silver cutlery, as dinner was served in the restaurant car as a crack express train passed the isolated signal boxes at Bell Busk or Dent Head. One train in particular was always at the forefront of their memories, the Thames-Clyde Express.

The latter train haunted my imagination. In my mind’s eye it once again thundered through Hellifield station, heading southward towards the distant capital. Its route fascinated me: the dreaming spires of St Pancras; the lonely outpost of Blea Moor; the debatable lands of the border; the industrious River Clyde. The crimson lake engine, powering its long train of a thousand stories, an ever-changing cast of people travelling for business, for holidays, for families, for new lives and for old.

Skipton Station in 1967. No. D21 is in charge of the northbound Thames-Clyde Express. Picture: Gavin Morrison

My railway career eventually carried me away from Hellifield and to some of the busiest power signal boxes in the north of England. But, I always remained obsessed by the Thames-Clyde Express and when my 34-year career ended, I decided to revisit my memories and write a book about the fabled train. The express last ran in 1975, but its legacy lives on in the memories of the railway workers and now in print.

*The author, David Pendleton, was a signalman for thirty-four years at Steeton, Shipley and Hellifield. On the Tracks of the Thames-Clyde Express, a rich mix of anecdotes and history, is published by Great Northern Books, and is available now, £19.99 from gnbooks.co.uk