On the tracks of 100 years: LNER celebrates its centenary

It was on January 1, 1923, that “grouping” occurred in the rail industry: all the disparate private railways were amalgamated into the “big four”: Great Western Railway; the London and North Eastern Railway; the London, Midland and Scottish Railway and the Southern Railway.

LNER was the second largest of the groups, taking over the North Eastern Railway and the Stockton & Darlington Railway, and the biggest mover of freight. As it served the North East, Scotland and Yorkshire, it shifted a third of Britain’s coal, but its reliance on heavy industry made it vulnerable during the Great Depression.

Consequently, it shed staff: it employed 207,500 in 1924 but cut that to 175,800 in 1937 even though it travelled more miles.

Men waving from a signal gantry. Picture: Fox Photos and Getty Images

It was a huge concern: it also had ports and docks, like Middlesbrough; it had 36 steamships, 23 hotels, eight canals and, in 1938, it had 800 mechanical horse tractors – those strange three-wheeled Scammel Scarab delivery vehicles – which made it the largest owner in the world.

It had huge railway works, at Doncaster and Darlington, which built and maintained its engines, and, of course, it ran passenger services all the way up the east of England and across Scotland. Those passenger services ran in engines painted in its famous apple green – although the Darlington green was apparently a little darker than the Doncaster green as Darlington tried to hark back to the livery of the NER.

How to use an LNER carriage as an office. Picture: Fox Photos and Getty Images

“We must not look on things with rose tinted spectacles,” said TV rail historian Tim Dunn (above) at Monday’s launch at York station. “The old LNER was a mixed bag. It was known for its crack expresses, like the Flying Scotsman, but its local suburban services had a reputation that didn’t match.”

More than anything, LNER had a flair for publicity, and a chief mechanical engineer, Sir Nigel Gresley, whose express developments merited much airing.

Sir Nigel Gresley with the A4 Pacfic engine that was named after him at the LNER's Doncaster Works in March 1938. Picture: Science & Society Picture Library

In 1923, he built an A3 Class Pacific locomotive which LNER decided to name “Flying Scotsman”.

“The vast majority of NER engines didn’t have names, but LNER came in and straightaway started naming locos because a name immediately builds up its personality, as the Rev Wilbert Awbry knew,” said Tim Dunn. “It tells a story, it makes you realise that it’s more than a bit of engineering.”

Flying Scotsman alongside the Azuma train at King's Cross Station to celebrate LNER's 100th anniversary

So Flying Scotsman became LNER’s champion – in 1928, it became the first engine to complete a non-stop run from London to Edinburgh; in 1934, it was the first to do 100mph.

The mayor of Newcastle waves off the inaugural run of the LNER express named Silver Jubilee on September 30, 1935. Picture: Science & Society Picture Library

Gresley then began developing the streamlined engines of the 1930s, with the Silver Jubilee of 1935 ushering in a new, speedy modern age, which culminated on July 3, 1938, with Mallard at 126mph setting the world speed record on the mainline near Grantham.

LNER's first film coach, showing the 1937 coronation. Picture: David Savill and Getty Images

As well as speed, LNER made gimmicky innovations: the first cinema car, the first hair dressing saloon, a carriage with a built-in gramophone player. All these ideas led to the Northern Belle, which enabled passengers to tour the British Isles by train but with all the luxury of a cruise liner.

After the Second World War, railways were nationalised, and LNER became a part of British Rail on January 1, 1948. The name fell into abeyance until 2018 when the privatised rail service on the East Coast Main Line run by Virgin collapsed and a state-run operator took over.

So the name LNER was revived, and it may argue that its adoption four years ago of the Aycliffe-made Azuma trains is on a par with those great express developments of 100 years ago, and now it has the named Century, it really is running on the same lines as the golden age of steam.

"Dine Well by LNER": a 1935 poster. These posters were an important part the LNER image. Picture: Science & Society Picture Library

LNER's centenary logo

A 1930s LNER poster portraying an image of elegance and sophistication for the railway company. PIcture: Alamy

THE livery of the Century train (above) features scenes and people from throughout LNER’s 100 years including, of course, Mallard and its driver on its record-breaking run, Joe Duddington.

Joe’s great-grandson, Matthew Delaney, was among those who watched at York station on Monday as Century arrived.

Such is the power of a named engine that Mallard is renowned for breaking the world speed record for a steam locomotive when it charged down Stoke Bank, near Grantham, at 126mph on July 3, 1938 – a record that still stands – but the name of its driver and its fireman, Tommy Bray, is not so well known.

“Everyone knows Lewis Hamilton drives fast cars, that Sir Donald Campbell drove the fastest boat but no one knows who drove the fastest train,” said Matthew. “It was just a guy called Joe Duddington.

“He was hand-picked by Sir Nigel Gresley to drive it because he was a bit of a maverick, and Sir Nigel knew he was the sort of person who would push it.

“It was done in secret as everybody else thought it was just a test run, but Joe knew what they were doing – it was a matter of national pride because the Germans held the world record.”

Mallard, the LNER engine which broke the world speed record in 1938

Going down the bank, the dynamometer car behind Mallard recorded 120 mph for five miles, which meant LNER had broken LMS’s national record.

But before a curve in the line which required him to slow, Joe accelerated further and overtook the Germans’ top speed of 124.5mph, even touching 126mph.

He had, though, really pushed it. He braked hard and safely took the Essendine curve – perfect driving – but the force caused one of Mallard’s bearings to run hot so the locomotive had to be removed from the train at Peterborough for repairs.

All the publicity, though, was about Mallard the speedy star – not about the damage.

When Joe retired from the railways, he worked in a fish and chip shop in Doncaster and when he died in 1956, he was buried in an unmarked grave – an omission that was rectified in 2021.

“Now he’s on a train and back where he belongs,” said Matthew. “The funny thing is that even though he drove a train at 126mph, he was too afraid to drive a car because cars scared him.”

A 1933 LNER poster, from the golden age of steam