MADAM – Climbing Out of Stroud.

One balmy morning during the summer I travelled by train to London from Stroud.

As the ‘125’ glided away from the platform and picked up speed I sat back and enjoyed the view from both sides of the carriage.

The Golden Valley was in full bloom and the green freshness of the trees and fields sparkled in the morning sun after overnight rain.

The ‘125’ made light work of the gradient leading to the Sapperton Tunnel and soon we were slowing down as we approached Kemble.

It is nearly 50 years since the last regular steam services passed through Stroud, including the much-missed ‘railcar’, which finally ran out of steam in 1964.

Not, as is often thought, a victim of Dr Beeching, but of a decision made by the British Railways Board before the good doctor wielded his infamous ‘axe’.

Travelling to London by express train in steam days usually meant a Castle Class locomotive up front.

The bigger King Class locomotives were not allowed on the Swindon- Gloucester line because of weight restrictions, and the slightly smaller Hall Class locomotives usually worked the semi-fast trains.

Getting out of Stroud in most directions other than towards the Severn Plain means climbing a long, steep hill and it is no different for the railway.

The line has somehow to make the transition from near the bottom of the valley in Stroud to the top of the Cotswold escarpment towards Kemble.

This proved to be a major challenge for the original builders of the line, the Cheltenham and Great Western Union Railway.

Fortunately they had a man with something of a reputation as the chief engineer.

Short of stature but somewhat elevated by a stovepipe hat and big cigar, he was, of course, none other than IK Brunel.

Always short of capital, the company was eventually taken over by the Great Western Railway and opened throughout in 1845.

A major feature on the line from Stroud to Kemble (which is very heavily engineered with many sharp curves, cuttings, viaducts and embankments – it would present a huge challenge even to today’s engineers) is the Sapperton Tunnel.

Originally intended to be longer and 45 feet lower in order to allow for a less severe approach gradient, financial constraints forced it to be built as it stands with a fearsome one-in-60 slog for ‘up’ trains and a somewhat perilous adventure for loose-coupled (unbraked wagons) ‘down’ goods trains.

As a tribute to the heroic crews that coaxed their trains up Sapperton Bank, the following poem is imagined in the words of the driver of a Castle Class locomotive as he takes his heavy, Paddington-bound train out of Stroud one cold, wet night in the winter of 1959.

Stroud station.

Sunday Evening – February 1959 Fine drizzle sweeps across, Shimmering briefly in the Soft glow of the Platform lights.

A dirty night.

The greasy rail glints ahead, Dimly fading at the Vanishing point.

Jack, my fireman, is The best of lads.

He’ll get the pressure up.

220 on the gauge, Safety valve on the verge.

We’ve thirteen on And a slog ahead.

But we’ll make it!

The home’s off. Right away!

Blower closed and the vacuum steady.

Full forward on the cut-off.

Sand the rail and lift the regulator.

She fills her lungs With superheated life.

Don’t slip! Don’t slip!

Breathe your mighty breath!

Sure of foot and beating slowly, Four to the bar we leave Stroud behind.

Threading, threading the Golden Valley.

Echoing, echoing off wall and mill.

Come on old girl! You’ve got the measure!

Together we’ll conquer Sapperton Bank!

Halls are brutal, Kings are haughty, But an elegant Castle is the fairest of all.

Winding, winding, the portal closer, The pressure dips but Jack’s fire’s a volcano.

Into Hades we plunge, hot fog and sparks, Near deafening blast and full-bore chatter, No passenger knows of the struggle up front.

Fire doors closed – no firing til we’re clear, Then cold night air. Drink deeply, And Kemble, level. We breathe a sigh. All three.

Chas Webb

Cashes Green