The museum was only a stone’s throw from York’s working railway station and yet it must have been a 10 to 15 minute walk (3/4 of a mile) to get to its main entrance. The route took me a long distance around the back of the establishment, next to the site of a miniature railway and the main carpark (£10/day - 2026). I have to say that the main entrance was quite unremarkable. It definitely didn't have the impact of the exterior of the British Museum or National History Museum. It crossed my mind whether this might be an indication for the start of an underwhelming day. I entered the building. 

The National Railway Museum was based around a number of buildings. The Great Hall was a huge warehouse containing the majority of the steam locomotives. The North Shed was annexed to this and contained a massive selection of railway paraphernalia. A relatively small offshoot of this was dedicated to Railway Signalling. Also attached to the Great Hall was the Wonderlab; a science based activity area for kids for which you had to pay a fee. You had to leave the Great Hall and walk to another large building, the Station Hall to see more exhibits. This large building  had been kitted out to resemble a full size railway station. A Central Hall was under construction and this would eventually link both the Great Hall and Station Hall. I would guess that when this was finished, it would provide the main entrance to the whole complex too and make the walk from York Railway Station shorter.

It was free entry to the museum, although I did make a donation. I passed the ticket office into the Great Hall. 

Great Hall

My first impression of the Great Hall was ‘Wow, this is a huge warehouse!’ My second impression was ‘Crikey, this place is crammed full of railway engines and carriages. My third thought was that I was gagging for a coffee and so I made my way to one of its cafes. This turned out to be a good choice since the museum was a popular place and the cafes got busier later in the day. As I munched carrot cake and sipped an Americano, I inspected the EM1 No. 26020 locomotive that was within an arm’s length of me. It was a black painted functional looking locomotive that reminded me of the trains that used to be depicted on the stamps of eastern European countries behind the Iron Wall, back in the 1970s. I read its information board and found out that it was a locomotove that used to run through the Woodhead Tunnel under the Pennines, between Sheffield and Manchester. The train drivers used to like the electric EM1 in preference to the steam engines, since the latter produced so much smoke in the 3 mile tunnel that they found it ‘suffocating.’  The locomotive was designed by Sir Nigel Gresley in the 1940s. 

Given the functional box-like design of EM1 I was surprised to read that Sir Nige also designed the stunning ‘Mallard’, which was positioned close to it. The wonderful Garter Blue beast still holds the world steam speed record for its 126 mph run on the 3rd of July 1938. Its streamlined casing, pointed nose and covered wheels helped reduce air resistance. The Mallard was built in Doncaster. Maybe it’s been the best thing to come out of Doncaster…apart from me of course.  

I’m not a railway grease monkey, but I do like to look at great engineering, no matter what form it takes. There’s no denying that engines like the Mallard are not just great engineering, but tremendous works of art too. For some reason, I’m attracted to the vibrant colours that are used on locomotives and carriages. They seem so much more pleasing than the colour schemes for cars, for example. I’m not sure why this should be so. Maybe it is just a quirk of scale. I actually preferred the colour scheme of the Duchess of Hamilton, that was next to the Mallard. This wasn’t a female member of the aristocracy, but another 1930s streamlined steam engine designed by Sir William Stainer. I loved the Crimson Lake Red with its gold lining and black wheels. According to its history, it has been painted in Caledonian Railway Blue, Wartime Black, LMS Black, British Railways Blue, Brunswick Green and Maroon. I think it would still look superb with  any of those colours schemes.

The Duchess of Hamilton was just one of the trains that pointed their noses to a massive train turntable. On the turntable was the magnificent Flying Scotsman, painted in Brunswick Green. This was another Sir Nigel Gresley/Doncaster combo and built in 1924. It was the first steam locomotive to reach 100 mph (1934). It later acquired the record of the longest non-stop run of a steam locomotive when travelling 422 miles across Australia in 1989. It's amazing how many of these locomotives have spent time abroad, whether in service or as attractions. Believe it or not, the Flying Scotsman was almost scrapped in 1962 as diesel and electric engines replaced steam. Unbelievable really. Later in the day I’d watch the 97 tonne Flying Scotsman take a twirl on the turntable with consummate ease. The locomotive was made operational again in 2016 and is sometimes let loose on the nation’s tracks to let off steam. 

In my version of history, the Railway Age, nay our whole industrial civilisation, was initiated by the 1829 Rainhill Trials. At least, that’s what they taught me in ‘O’ level history. This was a competition to find the best locomotive to run on the Liverpool and Manchester Railway. Ten locomotives were entered, of which five were able to compete, running along a 1 mile length of level track. George Stephenson’s Rocket was the only one to complete the trials, finishing the course at an average of 12 mph. A large statue of George Stephenson stands on a brick plinth in the museum, overlooking his original Rocket. The locomotive was altered over the years and so is not exactly the same as the one that ran at the Rainhill Trials. It has also lost its lovely Canary Yellow and Black colour, although this can still be appreciated with a replica version that stands next to the original. It does feel like stepping back in time, standing next to it. In the museum, the Rocket appeared to be hotly pursued by the Agenoria, another locomotive of the same era. 

The museum also displayed carriages too. I was interested to see a Chaldron that had been used at Cramlington Colliery. The term ‘chaldron’ refers to a standard weight of coal of around 2.5 tonnes and was used on waggonways. I’d originally come across this term when I visited Newcastle’s Victoria Tunnel last year (see the Captain’s Log, Newcastle’s Victoria Tunnel). This was an underground waggonway that allowed transport from Leazes Main Colliery to the coal staithes on the River Tyne. Wagons on rails predated locomotives. A Hund Truck was on show that originated from around 1560. These were pushed along rails and used in the Cumbrian mines. Hund means ‘dog’ in German and the wagons are probably named because of the howling sound they made as they were pushed along. This technology was imported to Britain from the Tyrol region of Austria. 

There were other intriguing specialised carriages on show. I was impressed by the glass lined ‘Milk Wagon.’ I confess that I’d never really thought about how perishable food was transported to the cities before  lorries and motorways. Trains used to carry churns of milk, but this was quite inefficient. One solution was to use enamel and glass lined tanks, each capable of holding the equivalent of 300 churns. These were insulated and a game changer for Britain’s dairy industry. There were other specialised carriages such as the ‘Banana Wagon.’ Around 2,000 of these were built between 1955 and 1960.  These carriages were steam heated to prevent winter frost and ventilated to ward off the summer heat. The last banana train ran in 1979. Cattle Wagons were used to transport livestock around the country. These were designed to allow good ventilation for the animals and had lower-level gaps for inspection. 

The museum displayed a selection of foreign trains. The most impressive of these was probably the KF-7, built in 1935 for a line in China. It’s the biggest locomotive in the museum’s collection and one of the largest ever built in Britain. If ever they make another film in the Mad Max franchise based on railways, then the KF-7 will surely be a central performer. It was massive and looked awesome with its black paintwork and red wheels. A more contemporary addition to the collection was a 0 series Shinkansen, more familiarly known as the ‘Bullet Train.’ The Japanese launched these in 1964 on the world’s first high-speed route from Tokyo to Osaka. This was the first of its kind and this train is the only one to be displayed outside Japan. These trains reached speeds of 130 mph. The carriages were 5 seats wide. The internal decor seemed a little sparse and dated which I guess was not surprising for something that was now 60 years old. 

Next door to the 'Bullet Train' was a Class 373 Eurostar locomotive. These are based on the French high speed TGV (Train a Grande Vitesse - translation: ‘bloody fast train’). They hold the British rail speed record of 208 mph. I’d never really thought about this, but the train needs to operate across British, French and Belgian networks. To do this, they are fitted with six signalling systems, eight power systems and two radio systems. The 31.4 mile tunnel was opened in 1994. It runs 75 metres below the sea bed of the English Channel. 13,000 workers created the tunnel over six years. Next to the glamorous Eurostar was the rusting and battered Channel Tunnel Muck Truck. This locomotive (Lawrence)  was one of 12 which helped to remove 4.3 million cubic metres of earth and rock. Huge boring machines cut through 250 metres of solid rock a day and Lawrance and his mates transported it back through the tunnel. It was all deposited at Shakespeare Cliff near Dover, making the UK 90 acres larger.    

There were many other locomotives in the Grand Hall that I’ve not got time to mention. There was also a ‘Flying Scotsman Virtual Reality Experience’ (paid option) that I was tempted to visit. Time was pressing though and so I moved on to the annex to the Great Hall known as the North Shed. 

North Shed

The North Shed was about a quarter of the size of the Great Hall, but still felt huge. It was crammed to the gunwales with railway paraphernalia, memorabilia and even more trains. A lot of it was stacked on shelves and it felt more like walking around a warehouse rather than a museum. Even so, it was a fascinating area that you could easily spend half a day pottering around. Each artefact had an information label on it telling you what it was and its history. It was such an eclectic mix of items that it's difficult to choose specific items. Some had important historical interest and others seemed more like curiosities. It would be impossible to describe this delightful emporium in detail, but I’ll describe some of the highlights for me. 

A ceramic white cat grabbed my attention. It was white with black eyes and a collar marked ‘L.N.E. RAILWAY CAT’ with a bow at the front. The curators believe it was possibly an official award for catching rodents as the company employed cats for controlling vermin in warehouses and goods stations. 

Nearby was a silver plated tea urn. I was intrigued to see that it had two taps and so would have cut down on waiting time. The information note said that it was allegedly for Royal use. To be honest, I think that’s probably right since I’ve seen nothing similar on trains that I’ve used.     

There was a large model railway that stretched the length of a long table along one side of the room. An information board said that it was the oldest working model railway in the world.  At first I thought this was built for domestic interest, but the note went on to say that it was created to train staff in the safe operation of trains. It uses signals, points and bell codes to control train movement around the layout. It was used by the Lancashire & Yorkshire Signalling School and there was a photo of it being set up at the British Empire Exhibition in 1925. Surprisingly, attending a class was voluntary until 1953. From then until 1995, it was an essential part of the training for new signalmen. 

A rather bizarre and disturbing item was an umbrella handle that was carved out of wood and shaped as the head of the devil. It was deposited in the Lost Property of Liverpool Street Station on the 19/11/1918. Perhaps even more bizarrely, there was a metal statue of Skegness’ Jolly Fisherman placed directly behind it. 

I was interested to find a large stone sculpture of a head that had been taken from Thornaby Railway Station at Stockton. This surprised me since I'd been to that very same railway station last month (see the Captain’s Log, Teesside Walk Like No Other). I remembered that the station had seemed very modern and that there was nothing like this sculpture around. I Googled it of course and found that the station had once sported wonderful ironwork and stone carvings. The station buildings were demolished in 1981 in what was described locally as ‘institutionalised vandalism.’ At least one item of Thornaby’s former glory resides in the National Railway Museum for posterity. 

As I say, there was so much to see in the North Shed, that it is hard to do justice to the place. The above just gives the slightest hints of what it had to offer. 

Signalling Gallery

There was a smaller offshoot to the North Shed that contained the Signalling Gallery. This was an interesting area that displayed artefacts from physical signalling to its current digital implementation. A reconstruction of a typical signal box has been created. There was a frame containing levers to control the tracks. Signallers could communicate with each other by sending messages using bells. They could accept a train into the section of track they controlled and offer a train to the signal box controlling the next section. Signallers used the lever frame to set the signals, telling the train driver whether it was safe to proceed. Above the levers there was an interlocking mechanism that prevented signallers from setting conflicting routes and signals. 

On the 22nd of May 1915 Britain suffered its worst ever rail disaster at Quintinshill near Gretna. The official death toll was 227 and 246 injured. There was a double collision and a fire which made the accident more devastating. One of the  trains was a troop train. Reportedly, many were trapped in the burning train and begged their rescuers to shoot them.  Some were said to have taken their own lives. An official enquiry found the cause of the collision to be the neglect of the singalling rules by two signalmen. They were charged with manslaughter. Surprisingly, after they were released from jail in 1916, they were re-employed by the railway company, although not as signalmen.     

With that happy finale, it was time to leave the North Shed and Great Hall and head over to the Station Hall. 

Station Hall

It was a 5 minute walk between the Great Hall and Station Hall. The miniature railway was now running with adults and kids alike enjoying a journey astride the tiny trains. Whereas the Great Hall and North Shed had been arguably haphazard and chaotic in its layout, the Station Hall seemed more organised and formal. The building was once home to York’s main goods station and was operational up until the 1960s. The platforms and rails were still there and so the museum had used it to display a variety of locomotives, carriages and railway exhibits on the platforms,  in the guise of an actual station. Again, there were plenty of things to see and so I’ve highlighted a few that attracted my attention. 

Near the entrance to the hall was the 1849 Euston Clock. This once stood in the gallery of the Great Hall at Euston Station. The clock survived when the hall was demolished in 1962. The measurement of time was obviously critical to the running of the railways. In the museum's Great Hall, I’d come across the 1837 London And Birmingham Railway Regulator Clock. Regulator clocks were much more accurate than everyday clocks. They were used by railways to set watches and other clocks along the line. ‘Railway Time’ soon replaced ‘Local Time’.    

Quite a few of the carriages on the platforms were ‘Royal Carriages.’ I peeked into these carriages and was slightly unimpressed. They seemed to contain general house furniture rather than having anything specifically built and fitted. I suppose King Edward VII did get a bath tub, but even that seemed rather small. It had a red line around the inside of the bathtub so that the servants knew not to overfill it and cause spills when the train was on the move. The Royal carriages used during WWII had armoured plates on the roof. The Royal’s living arrangements did look better than those of other rail users. Three classes were once in operation. Even the third-class had sleeping carriages for use between London and Scotland. Each third-class compartment had eight seats that converted into four berths. So 4 people got a bed and it's unclear how the other 4 fared. 

I was surprised to find a large dog in a glass cabinet at the end of one of the platforms. This was Laddie, the railway collecting dog. The Airedale terrier was born in 1948 and collected money for families of injured or killed railway workers, using a tin attached to a harness on his back. I suspect that given the weight of coins, Laddie would have welcomed retirement, but unfortunately suffered the indignity of being stuffed after his death in 1960, and so continued to collect for charity at Wimbledon station.  He doesn’t collect coins anymore, but he still has that damned collection tin strapped to his back. 

I always thought that transporting cars and the like on railway carriages was a modern phenomenon, but it appears to go back to pre-car days. Horse ‘buses’ used to sit on top of an open carriage truck. This allowed travellers to take their vehicles with them on long-distance train journeys. This saved unnecessary wear and tear, especially when roads were poor. 

There were a couple of examples of Brake Vans on display. Until the 1960s, many freight trains did not have continuous brakes, and so everything had to be slowed and stopped by the locomotive's brakes. Brake Vans were used to stop trains at a moment’s notice, or bring them to a halt in an emergency. They were fitted with brake controls and had a train guard poised to activate them. They were also used to carry luggage as well as heavy materials such as concrete and iron. They also housed safety equipment such as detonators for emergencies. This procedure involved the guard triggering the detonators on the the track. The loud bang would then alert the crew of a following train to danger. That was the theory, anyway. A 20-ton Brake Van concluded my tour of the Station Hall and my visit to the National Railway Museum. 

Reflections

My visit to York’s National Railway Museum far exceeded my expectations. I’d wondered whether it would be able to compete with those magnificent London museums, and there is no doubt that it does. There was an incredible number and range of exhibits on show, from those with significant historical significance, to those that are curiosities of the industry.  There’s such a range of items that you don’t need to be a railway buff or grease monkey to find something of great interest within its collections. The exhibits were well presented and I found the information boards very useful. There were plenty for the kids too with the Wonderlab, Flying Scotsman Virtual Reality Experience and the miniature railway. Given that the museum is free to enter (donations welcomed), it is an amazing place to visit and certainly the best museum I’ve visited outside of London. I’ll definitely visit again when the Central Hall is complete. I suspect that they’ve plenty of other exhibits in storage to fill the space. There’s definitely enough to see to dedicate a whole day for the visit.