Stormy night of railway tragedy

August 05, 2004

It remains the county’s worst rail crash that saw 27 people killed and countless others horrifically maimed as two trains collided head-on. The 1874 Thorpe rail crash happened one stormy autumnal night simply because of human error. Sarah Hardy asks – could it happen again?

Extracting the dead and wounded in the aftermath of the 1874 Thorpe rail crash.

It was a rainswept night one September almost 130 years ago. Rail travel was one of the main forms of transport for many and was slowly but surely opening up the country.

Here in Norfolk, the first passenger train ran in 1830 and the county prided itself on its safe rail network and efficient service. Stations were built like cathedrals and the locomotive symbolised the power and the glory of 19th century enterprise.

The Norwich-Brundall railway line was only single track when the Thorpe crash shook the Great Eastern Railway Company to its core.

The trains involved were the 8.40pm mail train from Yarmouth, which had been cleared to leave Brundall just before 9.30pm and the 5pm express from London to Yarmouth, which had been allowed out of Thorpe station at 9.31pm.

Normally the mail train was held on a loop at Brundall to await the express but on this occasion the stationmaster, William Platford, had received clearance by telegraph for the mail train to leave for Norwich.

In order to understand the events leading up to the crash, it is necessary to appreciate how a single-line system operated. Normally, all trains passed over the line in accordance with the timetable. But when there were any irregularities, such as trains running late, they were directed between stations by telegraph.

Messages from Thorpe to Brundall had to be signed by the duty inspector. The telegraph clerk then transmitted the message to Brundall who acknowledged in the same way – apart from the fact that the stationmaster operated the system himself.

So no train was allowed to proceed without the correct written authority. Yet both drivers, John Prior on the mail train and Thomas Clarke on the express, carried written permission so something had clearly gone drastically wrong.

You have to trace the course of events that evening to see just how the crash happened.

Just after 9pm, inspector Alfred Cooper reported for duty at Thorpe. He had been an inspector for 14 years and one of his first jobs was to ensure that the express was on its way – but it was running late.

He asked stationmaster William Sproule if the mail could leave Brundall but Sproule said not. Cooper then reminded him that they could delay the express and Sproule said: “All right. We’ll get her off soon.”

And herein lies the problem, Cooper thought he meant the mail but Sproule actually meant the express. Cooper then asked the clerk, John Robson, to tell Brundall that the mail could leave for Norwich.

So Robson telegraphed Brundall but didn’t get Cooper to sign the message – which he should have done. Meanwhile, the express arrived at Thorpe and, when asked, Cooper had said that he had not authorised the mail train, with its three carriages, to leave Brundall so the express, with its 14 carriages, was cleared to go.

Cooper retraced his steps to check that nothing had happened to his verbal message but it was too late – the mail had gone. There was little anyone could do. The trains were heading towards each other on a single track, with the express reaching speeds of up to 25mph and the mail train travelling at around 10mph.

Each thought the other was waiting for it so both drivers were keen to make up time.

They collided around 9.45pm, close to the Thorpe Gardens, now the Rushcutters, and the noise of the impact was said to be deafening. Indeed, those who heard the crash said that it was like a great clap of thunder.

A contemporary report describes what happened. “The engines when they met must have reared up into an almost perpendicular position, and the carriage mounted one on top of the other and sunk down into an almost inconceivable mass of rubbish and ruin.”

Both drivers and firemen were killed instantly along with 18 others. Many were trapped in the wreckage, injured horribly, with several dying later.

It’s believed more than 100 were hurt and many were treated at the scene, with one young girl having to have her leg amputated on the spot.

The rescue party, alerted before the crash even happened, worked in dreadful conditions. It was dark, the coaches were piled almost three storeys high and the rain was non stop.

Fires were built around the site so that they could see and it was an arduous task to free people as they were trapped under the carriages. A special train was sent from Norwich to take the wounded back to the city for hospital treatment as doctors and nurses used make-shift bandages and stretchers to carry victims away from the site.

The dead were brought from the wreckage to the outbuildings of Thorpe Gardens and a boathouse where they awaited identification and eventual burial.

A journalist of the time graphically describes the scene. “In one of the rooms of the Thorpe Gardens Inn lay bodies of four dead persons; but they were not alone.

“On hastily-constructed temporary beds lay some horribly maimed and disfigured sufferers, whose groans went even to the hearts of the medical men.

“In the corner lay the corpses of a man, a woman and a pretty little child, not more than four or five years old. On the opposite side were the mortal remains of a young woman who appeared to be nothing more than a chaotic mass of clothing.”

Sure, there were some tales of lucky escapes. A young couple moved from the leading vehicle to a rear carriage as they didn’t like the company in the front coach and a young woman was thrown clear, right through some trees in a nearby garden, only suffering a few cuts and bruises.

Norwich was horrified by the crash and demanded answers. There were calls for a public inquiry and for compensation for the victims.

The Great Eastern Railways Company paid out £40,000 and at the Board of Trade inquiry, under Captain Henry Tyler, blame was attributed to both Cooper and Robson. But there was a public outcry as people wanted them brought to justice.

The City Coroner’s Court indicted both men for manslaughter while the County Coroner found against Robson only.

The case came before Mr Justice Grove at Norwich Assizes in 1875. Robson was acquitted and the jury found Cooper guilty of culpable negligence but recommended mercy.

Throughout the trial Cooper had seemed composed but when sentenced to eight months’ hard labour, the mask slipped and he burst into tears.
Ironically, the section of the line where the crash happened was already in the process of being doubled. The second set of rails was already down and awaiting inspected by the Board of Trade.

As a consequence of the crash, the Government announced that a commission would be set up to investigate such crashes.

But could it happen again? Well, clearly we know that the answer is yes. While our railway system today has the benefit of all that modern technology has to offer, you cannot legislate against people making mistakes or failing to follow correct procedures.

The whole question of the actual physical state of our system is continually under the microscope, too, especially after derailments at Hatfield in 2000 that saw four dead and Potter’s Bar in 2002 that saw seven dead.

The future of our rail system, especially with regard to the safety of passengers, looks like being one of the major issues of the next election campaign.

People want to, and need to, travel – but they have to do so without being fearful of their lives.