REASSESSING BEECHING

Is Doctor Beeching steam’s maligned hero?

“Of course I’m in favour of preservation… I’ve contributed enormously to preservation by introducing the scarcity element.” Perhaps difficult to believe, but those words were uttered by Lord Beeching, formerly known as Dr Richard Beeching, author of The Reshaping of British Railways, and the man considered responsible for the closure of over 4,000 miles of railway.

The sweeping changes he would make would leave tens of thousands of people unemployed and affect the lives of thousands more.

Remarkably, Beeching was interviewed in Steam Railway as early as its third issue in 1979. It was a piece that helped set the tone for a new brand of preservation reportage. The interview opened with Editor David Wilcock’s childhood wish: “I guess I wasn’t alone in imagining all kinds of ghastly ends for the chairman of British Railways…”

At the time, the former BR chairman was demonized; a hated figure at whose door all the failings of the then modern railway could be laid. He was Beelzebub, the nemesis of railways – particularly in enthusiasts’ eyes.

But isn’t it time we re-evaluated our assessment of the much-maligned Dr Beeching? More than 50 years on, the preservation movement perhaps ought to reflect on the Beeching Report and realise what a great debt of gratitude it owes the man who wielded his infamous axe. For without Beeching, would the preservation movement as we know it today exist?

Interviewed later in life and asked how he felt about being remembered as an axe-wielding villain, he replied: “I think it’s a little unfortunate and from my point of view unjust, but it doesn’t surprise me. Most people aren’t remembered at all; you can’t really complain if you’re remembered on an oversimplified basis.”

The necessity of Beeching’s closures has been debated at length over the intervening decades and no doubt both commentators and the public alike will continue to do so for years to come. Here, however, we are not going to reopen that particular can of rather stale worms. Instead, it is time to ask the uncomfortable question, what do we owe to Dr Beeching?

There are over 150 preserved railways in the UK, more than 30 of which run on sections of railway closed as a result of the 1963 report. Could Beeching, the often decried villain of our railway network, in fact have been a father of the standard gauge preservation movement, and the unwitting catalyst that led to the development of our rich and varied industry?

CLIFF EDGE MOMENT

In a world of ‘what ifs’, it’s difficult to know what the outcomes would have been had so many lines not been closed. There are so many possibilities to consider that we can only identify likely outcomes from the knowledge we have, without knowing what new factors may have been thrown up by a timeline in which there were no widespread closures in the 1960s.

It is impossible to know what other events the ripple effect of keeping open one or all of the axed lines may have thrown up.

Perhaps the South Devon Railway (the then Dart Valley) may have been strangely prescient in their decision to invite Dr Beeching (by then a lord) to officially open the newly formed preserved line.

Closed to passengers in 1958 and reopened as a private enterprise 11 years later, the Dart Valley held

an inauguration ceremony at Buckfastleigh with Lord Beeching as the guest of honour. One of its pioneering volunteers, Richard Elliott, (who went on to become its general manager between 1991-2009) remembers the opening day well. “I saw Beeching, but I didn’t get to speak to him,” he recalls. “[He] had been so busy closing down stations that the Dart Valley Railway thought it would be fun to get him here and open one.”

The UK is not alone in running preserved railways, though it certainly has significantly more than any of its near neighbours. This could, in part, be owed to the density of lines, resulting from the Victorian period of the ‘Railway Mania’, a peculiarly British phenomenon that created a densely packed railway network, unsustainable in the long run and ultimately leading to a raft of closures that paved the way for the arrival of preserved railways.

Another explanation for why Britain has so many more preserved lines than its European neighbours is that the premier currency in heritage railways is steam. Unlike in the UK, steam was gradually phased out on the continent from the 1930s through to the late 1970s and 1980s, with dieselisation and/or electrification more gradually taking steam’s place. It meant that there was no ‘cliff edge’, no sudden cut-off to light a fire of outrage in the hearts (and wallets) of steam enthusiasts. Instead of a dramatic halt, the continental steam era gradually dwindled away to little or nothing, ending with the proverbial whimper, rather than a bang. Meanwhile, in the UK, the unseemly haste of the Modernisation Plan meant that the change was sudden, shocking, and galvanised the preservation movement in a way unique to Britain.

SHOCKED INTO ACTION

Though it certainly provided the majority of the motive power, the Modernisation Plan cannot take sole credit for the landscaping of our preservation scene; after all, locomotives saved from the scrap man’s torch must have somewhere to run. Enter Dr Beeching, whose cold-hearted accountant’s approach fanned the flames of enthusiast outrage.

The combination of rail closures and withdrawal of steam was a dramatic and powerful mix, and without both simultaneous factors, it is unlikely the steam railway industry would be as wide and varied as it is today. Had the cuts been made (yet steam still permitted to thrive on the remaining network) the shock to enthusiasts may not have been so stark and the number of preserved lines may not have reached such a proliferation.

Yet, had the locomotives been withdrawn without the line closures, there would have been fewer lines on which to run them. The two elements combined – the

Modernisation Plan and the ruthless pruning of the network – were key. Spurred on by the sudden loss of so many lines, engines and pieces of railway infrastructure, the need to save something – to save anything – was powerful for enthusiasts. Driven more by emotion than practicalities, they were desperate to save the locomotives they knew and loved. To do so in working order, they needed somewhere to run them.

Did Beeching give them that?

To consider the answer, we must turn our eyes back to Europe where, for the railways of France, Germany and The Netherlands, there was no Dr Beeching. Lines were mothballed from time to time but there was nothing on the dramatic scale of BR’s 1963 report. France still boasts a dense rail network with some long rural branch lines that Beeching would no doubt have axed, had it been within his remit. French heritage railways are not plentiful, despite reports of many mothballed lines lying untouched since closure. Had the United Kingdom followed a similar policy, could our railway network have gone the same way – allowed to dwindle and

It couldn’t be open today if I hadn’t closed it and a lot of others DR RICHARD BEECHING

fade, eventually being quietly closed with little outcry, as the land was abandoned or sold off for development in piecemeal fashion?

Germany had no Beeching equivalent either and, despite having many steam centres, has comparatively few preserved railway lines, especially standard gauge. Without widespread cuts, such as those made in the UK, there simply aren’t the lines on which to run these survivors. Take the vast private collection of engines in Falkenberg, encountered by Tony Streeter during his ‘Stronghold of Steam’ series on Germany (SR491); 50 engines saved and housed in and around an old shed, stationary reminders of a world left behind. With no Beeching figure to carve up the network, these locomotives lacked places to be loaned out to, while running them was still an option. If there had been a Herr Beeching, could a number of them be in steam now?

DOCTOR’s ORDeRs

As we’ve already heard, the man himself took partial credit for the salvation of British steam, saying “I’ve contributed enormously to preservation” and going as far as to somewhat gleefully comment in a televised interview about the reopening of one railway: “It couldn’t be open today if I hadn’t closed it and a lot of others.”

To be clear, credit for the birth of the preservation movement cannot go to Beeching, as this began long before his report. In 1951, the Talyllyn became the first railway in the world to be run by volunteers and, just shy of a decade later, standard gauge lines began to follow suit. First the Middleton, then the Bluebell, nearly a year before Beeching was even appointed.

That a railway could be run as a tourist line was already proven, at least on a modest scale. Therefore, once the combined impact of the Modernisation Plan and the 1963 report released more land, stock and engines, these forerunners were followed by a glut of lines that were almost all casualties of Beeching.

Some had been closed in one fell swoop, some lost their passenger services in the mid-1960s with freight following soon after, but all of them were available for private enterprise because a report authored by one man had ensured their closure.

There is a strong argument that the ‘Beeching effect’ began even before the infamous report was published in 1963. Railway closures were a common event in the 1950s, with an average of just under 200 miles of railway closed per year. In 1960 and 1961, the trend continued as 175 and 150 miles of railway were closed respectively. Yet in 1962, that number spiked to 780 miles, an increase of 420%; a startling rise that merits explanation.

Beeching’s appointment and the intention behind it, ‘to make the railways pay’ was no secret and high numbers of closures were expected. Were all these 1962 closures merely pre-empting the 1963 report, empowered by the Beeching appointment and what it implied? Not necessarily, because a number of factors were at play, including the Transport Act 1962, which simplified the process of closing a railway.

However, the likelihood of some of these lines meeting their end because the powers that be were emboldened by the looming report is high, and it is the opinion of this particular writer that the excess of closures prior to the Beeching Report was in no small part owed to the view that, if more closures were imminent, why wait? Of

the lines recommended for closure immediately prior to the Beeching report, two examples went on to become popular tourist attractions: the Severn Valley and the Keighley & Worth Valley railways.

Here the issue also becomes more complex, as some lines that had dodged the Beeching cuts were arguably doomed by them; for example, the former LSWR Swanage branch. Serving a coastal town, the ‘Purbeck Line’s’ patronage was swelled by weekend and holiday traffic, fed by the Somerset & Dorset route. The ‘Slow & Dirty’ was deemed unprofitable and closed on Beeching’s recommendation in 1966, taking with it what remained of the holiday traffic. In addition, the remaining lines that connected with Swanage were no longer fed by branch lines, reducing the tourist traffic even further and ultimately contributing to the subsequent downfall of the railway. Swanage may not have been a Beeching closure, but its demise can be linked to his infamous report, paving the way for the modern-day Swanage Railway to reclaim the line inthe 1970s.

The thought of railway preservation without the stunning vista of steam-hauled trains passing Corfe Castle is a dismal one.

REMARKABLE LEGACY

Assuming all the above to be true, what would the UK heritage scene have lost today?

One of the most dramatic swings of Beeching’s axe was the closure of the Great Central ‘London Extension’. In interviews and recorded television appearances, Beeching spoke more than once about the problem he perceived in duplication of trunk routes, blaming this for low loading across the network. Despite its straighter, more direct route, the GC lost out to the not-too-distant Midland Main Line and was deemed a duplicate. Being closed in stages from 1966, the GC’s loss ultimately became preservation’s gain. As the only double-track standard gauge heritage line in the UK, with the capability of running test trains at up to 60mph (75mph for diesel), the GCR is unique.

A world without period stages like the GCR, or our next example, would have wider cultural ramifications.

The North Yorkshire Moors Railway has played host

The area would have lost the opportunity to reap the benefits from having the railway at its heart CHRIS PRICE, NORTH YORKSHIRE MOORS RAILWAY

to Harry Potter, Downton Abbey, The ABC Murders, Heartbeat and many more. Earlier this year, Channel 5 aired the second season of a documentary focused solely on this giant of preservation, with a third still to come.

This 18-mile segment of the original line between Malton and Grosmont, closed by Beeching in 1965 and partly reopened five years later, traverses a national park and remains a solid example of a successful line that was opened to tourists in spite of, but also because of, the Beeching axe. Had that axe not fallen, the heritage scene would have been poorer without it and among its many gems, the line is currently unique in running daily services on Network Rail metals.

Preservation rather than continuation has also allowed the line’s North Eastern Railway heritage to shine through. In 2011, the characteristic roof at Pickering – designed in 1845 but removed by BR in 1952 owing to corrosion – was reinstated. What is to say that, had the line been kept open, more of these heritage features might not have been removed, as the demands of a commercial railway – so different to a preserved operation – took their toll on the infrastructure? Not to mention the impact on the surrounding community. Had the line not been available for preservation, Managing Director Chris Price notes, “the area would have lost the opportunity to reap the benefits from having the railway at its heart.”

The train services would have been preserved, but potentially little else.

The All-Parliamentary Group on Heritage Rail estimates that the NYMR’s contribution to the local economy is six times the railway’s annual turnover; the impact on that local area is clear to see.

Head over to Wales, to the Llangollen Railway, another phoenix that rose from the Beeching ashes, and take a peek at its motive power stock list; an impressive array of power running on Llangollen metals; loaned out to other railways; or undergoing repair in the workshops. The roster includes several Barry locomotives, rescued by groups who then needed to find homes for them.

And it isn’t just the standard gauge that has benefited. Abandoned trackbeds have also been acquired for re-use by narrow gauge groups: such as the Bala Lake, Gartell, Launceston and Wells & Walsingham railways.

GUIDING HAND

It would be easy to continue in this vein, and the list of what could have been lost to preservation, had this or that railway never been closed and subsequently preserved, would fill a book. And yes, we’ll never know precisely what might or might not have happened had those lines not been closed when they were, or the extent to which those infamous cuts influenced the closures of other lines not listed in the report. But it is clear that without The Reshaping of British Railways, the steam railway industry would look very different today.

The thought of being without any of the preservation successes mentioned in these pages, and many others, is enough to make the blood run cold. Love him or hate him, Lord Richard Beeching had more than a guiding hand in shaping the preservation landscape we know today. We can be sure that it would be a very different place without his influence – and almost certainly not on the startling scale of what we have now.

Indeed, those 30-plus railways, accounting for 5% ofthe entire track length axed, can be attributed to the man born on the Isle of Sheppey in April 1913. Or, to look at it another way, the 200 miles of reopened Beeching lines account for a third of the total in British railway preservation.

Hero or otherwise, is it actually possible to be angry at Beeching for his unrelenting swathe of closures, but still be grateful for the incredible possibilities that he unwittingly enabled?

● Thanks to Richard Elliott, Richard Patching and Chris Price for their help in the preparation of this feature.

BOTH: MIRRORPIX/ALAMY Dr Richard Beeching, the controversial Chairman of British Railways, waves off the Dart Valley Railway’s (now South Devon) first train on May 21 1969. The Totnes-Ashburton branch had closed to passengers in 1958 and freight in 1962, prior to his involvement.

Dr Beeching shakes hands with Dart Valley footplateman Dave Knowling on May 21 1969.

MIRRORPIX/ALAMY Dr Beeching was a well-known resident of East Grinstead, close to the newly formed Bluebell Railway. Although he was invited to commission Holywell Halt in 1962, he was critical of the decision to open it, on commercial grounds, and was subsequently proved right when, a year later, it was abandoned owing to poor patronage.

CoLoUR RAIL Top: Launceston was one of the famous station names on the Southern’s ‘Withered Arm’ in North Cornwall, but was closed following the recommendation of Beeching’s 1963 The Reshaping of British Railways report. This picture of Maunsell ‘Ns’ crossing in June 1963 was taken just three months later...

pETER JoHNSoN …but it now provides a home to the characterful ‘Quarry Hunslets’ of the Launceston Steam Railway, partly thanks to, or perhaps because of, Dr Beeching.

ALAN WEAVER Double track, mail drops, heritage-era stations and mechanical signalling. It’s probable that only the double-track would have remained on the Great Central route had it survived closure in 1966. Instead, the modern-day GCR now has a reputation for ‘recreating the experience’, such as this Travelling Post Office demonstration at Quorn & Woodhouse behind visiting ‘Schools’ No. 926 Repton on October 5.

CHRIS PRICE/NYMR Had the 18 miles between Pickering and Grosmont remained open as part of the national network, we wouldn’t have the annual major events that help bring thousands of visitors to the National Park each year. This is the North Yorkshire Moors Railway’s 2019 1940s weekend, which involved local towns and villages; including this packed street in Pickering.