Steam - the Grand Finale

A 40th anniversary tribute to the final men & machines

Steam: The Grand Finale is a landmark publication chronicling the last months of steam on the British Railways main line. Years of painstaking research by Alan Castle, who viewed the proceedings at first hand 40 years ago, and interviews with drivers, firemen and engine shed staff, have resulted in this authoritative and definitive account of the year in which the final whistle sounded on a steam era dating back more than 150 years.

Written, photographed, compiled and edited: Alan Castle
Editorial Assistant: Brian Sharpe

The author wishes to express his sincere gratitude to all of those who have assisted in the preparation of this book, but in particular to the following: Bill Ashcroft, Joseph Booth, Tony Bowles, Norman Callaghan, Dave Bradbury, John Burnett, Maurice Burns, Bob Clarke, Richard Dixon, Bob Downham, Charles Findlay, Peter Fitton, John Fletcher, Tony Gillett, Robert Gregson, Andy Hall, David Hardman, Tom Heavyside, Ernie Heyes, Derek Huntriss, Mick Kelly, Ian Krause, Steve Leyland, Dick Manton, Eddie May, Terry Millar, Tommy Miller, Peter Norris, Mike Pope, Ken Richardson, Dave Rodgers, Brian Sharpe, Mike Taylor, Ian Thistlethwaite, Malcolm Thistlethwaite, David Tomlinson, Paul Tuson, Jim Walker, Bill Watson and Frank Watson.

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Format: Glossy A4 perfect bound Magazine
Number of pages: 132

On sale in WH Smiths from 25th July 2008 or secure online today.

A chronology of 1968

The year of 1968 was a pivotal year in a period of great change and, with the march of so-called ‘progress’ that included man being a matter of months away from walking on the moon, the time was up for steam. The first week of August was to see the closure of the final three depots - effectively drawing to a conclusion the century and a half of loyal service provided by a form of transport to which the wealth of our nation owed so much. The steam era ended so poignantly on 4 August, a day on which innumerable steam railwaymen, most of whom had dedicated their entire lives to the railways, were declared redundant. These words, therefore, are a tribute to those final men and machines.

On 11 August, did any of those thousands sat in the massive traffic gridlocks up in the high Pennines really believe that this would not be for ever? The, then seemingly unshakeable, view from the exalted heights of BR management was that it was not to return under any circumstances. Indeed, certain individuals then resident on the British Railways Board were so adamantly opposed to steam as to be desirous to see it despatched as soon as was possible… and no matter what the cost!

Indecent haste
Even die-hards accepted that steam had to go one day - but not so hurriedly and with such a disgraceful lack of gratitude, and the indecent haste with which most of the fleet soon came to be disposed of, was a sad reflection upon the state of our emerging society. Even the few privately preserved locomotives in working order did not represent the image that top management wished to create. The view was that steam was the creation of a more primitive age and, quite simply, deserved no place in an era of new technology. For those who did take the time to cogitate upon such matters, there was a sadness felt that reflected an acceptance that the life as we knew it was soon to change, perhaps for the better, perhaps not, but certainly a realisation that changes were inevitable and counted as ‘progress’.
There had been a period in the immediate post-war years, during which attempts were made to construct modern and more reliable steam locomotives as the way forward for the then newly nationalised railway, rather than to leap headlong into untried and untested dieselisation. In the pages to follow, we shall discover why this was and how things then suddenly changed, both as a consequence of the 1955 Modernisation Plan, and also because of the effects of the later decimation of the national network, as initiated by the infamous Dr Beeching. Despite the ambitious aspirations of the British Transport Commission design teams, many new locomotives ultimately came to be sent for scrap well before their 10th birthdays. Some were hardly ‘run-in’ – clearly, a shocking and disgraceful waste!
Until as late as 1967, the steam-age railway in the North West of England, in many respects, really did still remain relatively untouched. North of Preston, steam working still continued - and in some quantity – particularly on the remoter moorland main line stretches over Shap and along the Settle & Carlisle line, where, in both places, even large Pacifics were still very much in evidence. However, when Carlisle Kingmoor, Tebay and Workington depots finally closed to steam working on 31 December, this proved to be a dramatic and major downturn in steam's sphere of operation. Maurice Burns made a sentimental journey to witness first-hand the very last steam workings over Shap Summit. After 122 years, it really was the end of an era and Maurice provides some fitting words in appreciation. His own personal epitaph encompasses, in particular, the passing of one essential, but otherwise little-addressed, aspect of railway operation – the men and locomotives of the Shap Bankers.
Come the dawn of the 1968 New Year, the 360-odd steam locomotives nominally still in service at the ‘lucky thirteen’ surviving depots found themselves basically restricted to essentially short sojourns in and around Lancashire, north Cheshire, a corner of the Peak District and an occasional foray a few miles into West Yorkshire. With no alternative motive power to call upon, staff at depots invariably had to ‘make-do-and-mend’, often against almost impossible odds with little or no spare parts back-up, just to keep a bare minimum of engines available for traffic. Everywhere that one looked standards of cleanliness had deteriorated noticeably. This, of course, had gradually been taking place for many years and, for some enthusiasts, it became a sad fact of life that having to go to the extreme extent of having to clean one’s own engines, if only in order to stand any chance of securing a reasonable photograph, was to become very much a part of the accepted routine. Maurice Burns recounts one or two of the numerous cleaning sessions in which he personally became involved and Paul Riley continues on a similar theme with a few further words on the last days of the ‘Great Steam Chase’… or the trials and tribulations of steam photography in the 1960s.

The noose tightens
For that handful of surviving depots still in business, the noose was ever-tightening. The first three to go, all on 4 March, were Trafford Park, Buxton and Northwich, the latter two being at the extremities of the route traversed by intensive limestone minerals traffic. These closing weeks fortunately coincided with some very wintry conditions in the Peak District which, when trains actually were able to run, did provide some spectacular photo opportunities. Within another couple of months, four further depots succumbed, with Stockport Edgeley, Heaton Mersey, Edge Hill and Speke Junction closing on 6 May 1968. It was a near miracle that steam survived to such an advanced stage as May regularly hauling a prestigious titled train. Nevertheless, despite more than one previous attempt at dieselisation, Stanier ‘Black Fives’ remained firmly on the roster of the ‘Belfast Boat Express’. We examine the reasons behind this and hear about some of the more outstanding runs.
Elsewhere, life went on much as it always had done and nowhere more so than in the Yorkshire Dales. The limestone traffic from quarries on the former Skipton-Grassington Branch took ballast trains to destinations from which steam had otherwise long-vanished and we follow one such train on an outing to Appleby. The remaining three depots in the Manchester Division; Newton Heath, Patricroft and Bolton closed at the very end of June and Steve Leyland provides an account of the demise of his own local shed of Bolton.

The final three
With but a single month to go, this chronology is brought to a conclusion with an in-depth focus upon ‘The Final Three’. During those final hectic weeks, the otherwise totally unassuming and quite ‘matter of fact’ steam depots at Carnforth, Lostock Hall and Rose Grove had fame literally thrust upon them and the area around soon became inundated with visitors of totally unprecedented proportions. Right up until the very last weekend of all, it was still possible to travel on one or other of two ‘portions’ of main-line expresses that, from Preston, completed their final few miles onwards to their destinations behind steam power. Tom Heavyside provides a personal insight to the final passenger workings of 3 August.
Most of the special train activity in the closing weeks concentrated upon the last day, when each of the major railtour operators of the time vied for custom with their individual ‘Farewell to Steam’ sorties. With severely limited itineraries being available and with the, perhaps inevitable, Sunday late-running scenarios, on 4 August it soon became almost impossible for those witnessing events to predict from which direction the next special would appear! Published here, for the first time ever, is a comprehensive list of all the footplate crews involved in that historic day.
One week later, three 5MTs and a Britannia were engaged in operating various stages of a BR-organised final steam excursion upon which history has since imparted the infamous sobriquet, ‘The Fifteen Guinea Special’. Some reflections upon that historic day are provided from three very differing viewpoints - a passenger, a ‘linesider’ and a footplate inspector involved in the behind-the-scenes planning and preparations.
After it really was all over and the masses had departed, what happened then? As we now know, a handful of engines - from all three depots - survived the cutting torch, but there was no escape for the remainder. A few lingered on for some months, rusting away in forlorn lines awaiting their inevitable destiny, but the ‘Barry phenomenon’ was really some years to the future and with neither the funding being available, nor the preservation mania yet really having taken off, all would eventually be towed away for scrap. With the end of steam, so also disappeared most of the steam age infrastructure and, as a postscript to those unforgettable final months, Robert Gregson visited the derelict and decaying remains of Lostock Hall shed which, remarkably, survived for 22 years after its last steam locomotive had departed.

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