Ravenglass & Eskdale / World War I question

[Calthrop]

Recent discussion on “Railway History & Nostalgia”, touching on the First World War: has prompted thoughts about a matter (fairly trivial) which has long puzzled me, concerning the Ravenglass & Eskdale Railway. Probably covered and explained by the learned histories of the line; but I have not read those – hoping, if you wish, for perhaps a “short cut” via this forum.

The defunct “old” 3 ft gauge R & ER was converted to a 15 in. gauge line and revamped as same, early in the First World War – opening in 15 in. form in 1915. With possibly misleading hindsight: I find it rather amazing that this could happen at a time when Britain was engaged in a desperate war on a huge scale, with the nation’s very survival being seen as at stake.

In this envisaged state of emergency, with national and local government being granted powers to regulate people’s doings, beyond the peacetime norm; and with the general national mood being (or so the picture is got) that it was necessary for everyone to put most of their pleasures and frivolities aside, and buckle down to the stern task which faced the country – how was the amount of resources and effort put at the time, into the “miniaturising and reviving” of the R & ER, allowed or tolerated? One would see its being reckoned unthinkable – in the light of the envisaged strong conviction (with authority having powers to back it up) that: of the people involved in the project, those of military age should have been at the Front; and that older guys should have been engaging in work to support the war effort / fill in for those away on active service.

In view of the date at which things did in fact happen, I must be “missing a trick” here; but I’m bemused at how things went, and at its not being taken for granted that those contemplating this project, would put it “on the back burner” until the war was over, and Britain victorious. Would be grateful for enlightenment on this issue.

 

[John Webb]

The Ravenglass & Eskdale line had been unused since 1908. It seems Bassett-Lowke took on the line and possibly used existing equipment owned by his Narrow Gauge Railways Ltd. company.
I think that in 1915 the scale of the war was of less impact on the civilian population than it became later. Unlike WW2 there was (at least then) no restriction on holiday-taking, so there was still significant tourist traffic available to warrant running the line.

 

[Calthrop]

Thanks -- I was maybe seeing WWI in WWII terms. Re "the Fourteen-Eighteen": I, at least, get such an impression of nearly everyone being eager from the outset to "put away childish things" and get to grips with the foe -- males of even-vaguely-possible military age rushing to enlist in the Forces, unless they were "cowards / mad radicals-or-anarchists / religious nutters of a particular kind" -- twelve-year-olds lying about their age in order to join up -- all that shtick... while "knowing with my head" that that's an over-simplification.

I still find it a bit mind-boggling that such a basically frivolous project could have gone ahead in 1915 -- not so much re its financial viability, as the feeling that it would be utterly against the spirit of the times. Perhaps "the powers that were" saw it as subtle propaganda -- a message to Germany to the effect that "we can beat you lot with one arm tied behind our back -- we can spare the manpower to have lots of chaps messing around with miniature trains in the Lake District, rather than being up against you on the Western Front..."

 

[John Webb]

I gathered that Bassett-Lowke had been looking at the R&E a bit before WW1 started, so it may be that he'd already got things on the move and no-one saw any reason to stop them. It's interesting that in WW2, as soon as that started, a lot of things were immediately stopped, such as theatres and cinemas, for fear of bombing. It was realised fairly quickly that such things helped to keep morale up, and they were reinstated!

 

[Calthrop]

Rather a matter of a balancing act, yes? The punters need a certain amount of fun and frivolity to keep their morale up, even if in terms of hard practicality, it detracts from the war effort...

Oddly enough, I’ve just been reading – filling in a couple of “in transit” hours in public library – parts of Humphrey Household’s book England and the 15-Inch; which includes a sizeable chapter on the R&ER. Traces the line’s history, including the “conversion” era: recounts – as you say – Bassett-Lowke’s project having been under way before the war started, and going happily ahead subsequently. No suggestion in the text, of any wartime “is your miniature-railway-making really necessary?” issue.

Mr. Household (whose couple of books I’d encountered previously, though have never owned) does come across as another of those lucky sods who were born just at the right time and in the right circumstances. Born 1906, still – from publication date of the above book – mentally very much together 80+ years later; and born to a modestly-well-off family, with sympathetic parents (and he later worked for the LNER, I gather in an administrative capacity). He recounts visiting the R&ER in summer 1924, when things there were fascinatingly “rough and ready” (book illustrated with a number of most interesting pictures which he took on that visit). He also saw a good deal of the Welsh narrow gauge between the World Wars, including 1920s in-depth exploration of the Glyn Valley Tramway; and he well knew the Lynton & Barnstaple; also the Sand Hutton Light Railway, in its brief relative heyday. One could get extremely envious.

 

[70014IronDuke]

[Somewhat OT in terms of railways]

I'm sure in some ways it was easy to find exceptions, but Britain was still an amazingly free country in wartime relatively speaking – although it was perhaps only foreigners which noticed this.

Arthur Koestler, a Hungarian-born Jew and one-time communist, recognised this in astonishment when he arrived, illegally, in Britain in (I think) 1940.

As a dedicated anti-Nazi, he volunteered to join the British forces, but as he was, in theory, an enemy alien, that was no easy task. While the wheels of British bureaucracy whirled, he set about writing a book. And he tried to get a publisher.

This is described in his autobiography – I think it is called Arrivals and Departures. Anyway, the essence of the story goes like this. (my total paraphrase, from memory of reading it 25 years ago)


A few weeks later I got a contract to write the book. Yet the very next day, a letter arrived from the army, asking me to attend a recruitment interview on XYZ date.

Now I had the contract for the book, I wanted to write it. So I sent a letter asking the army for a delay, explaining my new book contract. A week later, I got a letter from the army saying:

Dear Mr Koestler, thank you for you letter dated ABC. We note you have a contract to write a book: please let us know when the book is completed and we can restart your recruitment process.

Signed Captain Bloggs.

Koestler continued:

The greatest and most efficient force of arms in history, commanded by one of the most brutal thugs the world has ever known, was at the gates of the country. And they give me time to write a book and report at my convenience.

At that point, I knew Britain was going to lose the war.

 

[edwin_m]

[Somewhat OT in terms of railways]
At that point, I knew Britain was going to lose the war.[/I]

There's just one tiny flaw there I think...

And I doubt he would have been shown so much leeway if he'd been conscripted.

 

[Calthrop]

To Post #6:

It’s a prominent fact of life, that “everything is relative”; and, people on the whole, tend to focus more on their own grievances, than those of nebulous others. Not very moral or noble, but very human.

Vis-a-vis World War II, I’ve always liked the anecdote about the Nazi slave-labour-camp where the inmates – many of them French – are during a brief break from their toil, talking about how miserable their lot is. One of their number interjects: “Bollocks ! We aren’t at all, the most miserable people in the world. The most miserable person on earth right now, is a young man sitting in a café on the Champs Elysées in Paris, with a cup of coffee in front of him – his new girlfriend is fifteen minutes late for their date, and he’s convinced that she’s jilted him. He’s ****ing heartbroken – now that’s miserable for you.”

Insane; but at any rate, an alternative “take”, with a bit of truth in it...