Railways are inherently dangerous places. Heavy vehicles moving at speed pose real risks to anyone in their way, especially as the very fact that makes trains so efficient – low friction between wheel and rail – means they can’t be stopped quickly. William Huskisson, run over by Rocket at the Liverpool & Manchester Railway’s opening in 1830, makes the point. Still, even in the early days of Wimborne’s railways, the 1840s and 1850s, trains were quite slow and people (and animals) had time to get out of the way. Even if a train ‘came off the rails’ – as derailment was called then – passengers would be unlucky to be killed or seriously injured, unless carriages tumbled down a high embankment, fell off a bridge, or were crushed in a cutting or tunnel. A collision between two trains could be serious though. And railway staff working on or near tracks were also particularly vulnerable. A moment’s lapse of attention or a trip could easily mean the loss of life or limb for a platelayer or shunter. Yet despite these dangers, casualties were not so numerous as to cause widespread public concern.
Regulation begins
Officialdom recognised the dangers though. From the early 1840s a new railway couldn’t open until approved by the Board of Trade, the government department responsible for railway safety. The Board also inquired in to ‘accidents’ involving passenger trains, identifying causes and recommending measures to avoid a repeat. The railway companies didn’t have to adopt these recommendations however, and the Board wasn’t concerned with staff casualties. Nevertheless the Board’s quarterly returns provide valuable insights in to the railways’ failings. Many reports, including those about East Dorset, are available from The Railways Archive.
By the 1860s deaths and injuries to passengers and staff were increasing sharply as trains got faster and more frequent. Growing public outrage forced governments to intervene more in the railways’ affairs, encouraging and eventually – often in the face of a great reluctance to spend money – requiring safety measures such as better brakes and signalling. Railway operations became more disciplined, increasing relying on formal procedures and rules. All this took several decades – full ‘block’ signalling of passenger lines and effective ‘continuous’ braking of passenger trains wasn’t compulsory until 1889 and took several more years to be installed. And there was still the risk of ‘human error’ leading to catastrophe. Even so, by 1900 Britain’s – and Dorset’s – railways were well on their way to becoming the very safe form of transport they are today, at least for passengers.
Staff safety lagged, although by the 1890s the emerging railway trade unions were bringing pressure on the companies to adopt safer working. The Board of Trade was also more proactive, inquiring into staff casualties and recommending improvements. Many railway jobs remained dangerous however, and continue to be so, particularly for anyone on or around the track. Only strict safety regimes and disciplined working, plus the mechanisation of many jobs, keeps deaths and injuries low.
In the aftermath of the derailment, staff organise the re-railing. The rescue loco at right looks like an S&D Class 4F.
All photos: G. A. Richardson; courtesy S&DRT Collection
The local scene
This section will look at incidents on East Dorset’s railways from the beginning through to the line closures. Why don’t we use the term ‘accidents’? Because it’s ambiguous: yes, a railway accident is ‘a misfortune or mishap, esp one causing death or injury’, and it might also be ‘anything that occurs unintentionally…’. But it’s not an event ‘…that occurs… by chance’, let alone ‘…one without an apparent cause’. (Collins English Dictionary, 2006) Indeed, as we’ve seen, the point of ‘accident’ inquiries is to identify the cause(s) and try to prevent their reoccurrence.
East Dorset’s railways are all closed but these pages will evolve. We’ve used all sorts of sources – Board of Trade reports, newspapers, coroner’s findings, letters, diaries, and so on – to build a database of incidents, but more evidence will more or less inevitably emerge. Please send us anything you find. We in turn contribute to the Railway Work, Life & Death project at the University of Portsmouth: so can you.
Sometimes we’ve the evidence to go beyond bare facts, and when possible we aim to tell the wider stories of those who were involved, as well as probing in to the causes of, and remedies for, dangerous working. In so doing we acknowledge how the suffering of those long buried in the historical record helped to make today’s railways so safe.
The cases
Using the above basic definition of ‘incidents’, we can classify them according to various criteria, but especially severity – from those resulting in fatalities to minor mishaps. We will cover from the tragic that received the full attention of the authorities to the amusing that barely got a note in the local press. In strictly technical terms, there could be derailments, collisions, shunting mishaps, partial or wholesale demolition of structures, breakdowns, signalling failures, etc. East Dorset was probably witness to its fair share of all types. We’ll build up a log as we gather the details. Many incidents were too early for photos to be published, certainly not in newspapers, so we are often a bit pushed to find any illustrations other than perhaps artists’ impressions (the Illustrated London News often being a good source).
The big ones
These were usually major derailments, involving all or parts of train leaving the track, or collisions resulting in at least one if not multiple fatalities or serious injuries.
Photo: © Roger Holmes; Graham Kelsey Collection
Down-time at Downton,
3rd June 1884
While this occurred just north of our study area, over into SE Wiltshire, the derailment was one of the most serious hereabouts, with fatalities, and had a significant impact on services through East Dorset. It happened 1¼ miles south of Downton Station, just west of the River Avon Bridge and straddling the Wiltshire-Hampshire border, north of Charford. One of our research associates, Steve Smith, who once lived in Verwood (and is modelling the station there), has long been fascinated by the Downton incident and has undertaken some fresh research, investigating official reports, newspaper reports, and other material, while re-interpreting the evidence and querying apparent contradictions. We are assembling this into an in-depth paper, which will be available in due course as a PDF from a link on this page and the History page.
Two-train collision, Wimborne, November 1896
We’re adopting a slightly unusual approach to this case. In November 1896 an early-morning goods train from London collided at Wimborne with an almost empty workmen’s train waiting to leave for Poole. Fortunately no-one was killed, although both passengers were injured, one quite seriously. The subsequent official Board of Trade inquiry details the operating practices and mechanical failures leading to the crash. It also identifies the key railway staff involved, outlining their working conditions. This report along with contemporary newspaper accounts, census returns and L&SWR staff records were enough for Colin Divall to weave a story of the crash, first told to an audience in Bridport’s community orchard in summer 2024.
A later audio recording of the story is available along with a transcript, originally published in the South Western Circular (April 2025). Listen to the audio.
Safer crossing
Prior to 1870, passengers catching or leaving trains at Wimborne’s Down platform had to cross the running lines on the level to or from the Up side where the booking office was. That was a hazard even when both lines were clear, but much more so when one line was occupied by a standing train and visibility limited. David Cutler was killed crossing the lines to catch a train in 1870.
A subway had first been recommended in 1865, but duly opened in 1870. Wimborne never boasted a footbridge, unlike Ringwood to the east and Broadstone to the south. Here we see Mervyn Coombs, booking clerk at Wimborne in the early 1950s (and an Old Winburnian of that vintage!), standing in front of the forecourt doors leading to the subway (arch just visible behind) that took passengers to the Down platform. The booking office also had a direct access to the subway. Staircases down from both platforms accessed the subway. Apart from Wimborne, the only other station in the area with a subway was Blandford, unless the major case of Bournemouth Central is counted.
Prominent casualty
On 23d November 1890, the death occurred on the River Stour Bridge of William Beckett, 64, Conservative MP for Bassetlaw, Nottinghamshire. He was a banker and director of the Great Northern Railway. He was using his L&SWR free pass to travel to Bournemouth and arrived at Wimborne by the 2.51 p.m. Down train. Discovering he had over an hour to wait for the 4.5 p.m. Bournemouth service, he decided to wander through the town. Just before 4 p.m. he was spotted by the Wimborne Junction signalman, Levi Amans, taking an illicit short-cut across the 217-feet-long river bridge, walking next to the Up line. A strong breeze whisked off his hat, causing his coat to billow out and drowning out the sound of the approaching 3.20 p.m. Bournemouth Up train.
Amans described the sight. As the train rushed past, Beckett fell under the second or third carriage. His body was rolled along the line as the train passed over it, and it had been carried 56 feet before it came under the last carriage, and was left lying on the line in a shockingly mangled condition, only the head escaping mutilation. The driver of the Up train, William Massey, whose engine was running tender-first saw no-one on the bridge. The coroner noted that this was his third inquest in two years involving people who had met their end near the bridge.
(Report gleaned partly from the Exeter Flying Post, 29th November 1890.)
Secondly, we see the entry doors from forecourt level to steps (off left) and subway (ahead), circa 1955, with booking clerk Mervyn Coombs. Photo: © and courtesy Rosemary Coombs
