Hopetown

Some photographs and some words....

You will live to see the day when the railways will supersede almost all other methods of conveyance in the country - when mail coaches will go by railway and railways will become the great highway for the King and all his subjects

George Stephenson to Edward Pease in 1822

I headed to the northeast England town of Darlington last week and Hopetown, a cultural and heritage destination dedicated to celebrating the town's rich railway history. Especially its role in the birth of the modern railway. The visit was apt, given that 2025 marks the bicentenary of the Stockton & Darlington Railway (S&DR), the world's first public railway to use steam locomotives. Also apt is that I travelled from my home in Blaydon by train. Indeed, three trains. All ran on time, and the last took me on the short journey from Darlington to North Road, the station that’s next door to Hopetown.

Hopetown Museum - once North Road Railway Station

One of the buildings that make up Hopetown was once the original North Road Station, which opened in 1842 as part of the S&DR route. The building is now Grade II listed and has been transformed into what, upon opening, was called the North Road Station Museum. The recent renaming to Hopetown was to honour the historic Hopetown Carriage Works, which, beginning in the 19th century, constructed and maintained railway vehicles that played a significant role in developing Darlington as a railway town.

Hopetown comprises two significant elements: the Head of Steam Museum, which highlights the local and national impact of the railway revolution, and the Railway Heritage Quarter, a major restoration and development project that includes historic railway buildings, working engines, exhibition galleries, creative spaces, and event venues.

So, let's examine the early S&DR, which began operations on September 27, 1825, and is now widely recognised as signalling a truly momentous change in the history of transport and industry.

Railways (more commonly called Tramways) existed before 1825, but they were primarily private industrial tramways that used horses or stationary engines to move freight. In contrast, the S&DR also aimed to attract the public to travel on steam-hauled trains operating on a scheduled timetable, carrying passengers and cargo. It marked the beginning of the railway age, transforming how people moved, worked, and connected across Britain and, eventually, the world.

That first railway line didn't cover a vast distance. It ran some twenty-six miles from the coalfields near the town of Shildon to the port town of Stockton-on-Tees, passing through Darlington along the way. While it carried passengers from its inception, the primary purpose of the S&DR was still to transport coal more efficiently to the coast for onward shipping to London.

The first steam locomotive to pull a train on that public railway was Locomotion No. 1 (although it wasn't given that name until eight years later), designed by George Stephenson and driven by him on the inaugural run.

The photograph above is Locomotion No. 1. However, for those who watch ‘Only Fools and Horses,’ it is somewhat of a ‘Trigger's Broom,’ since the engine was rebuilt three times during its working life, and nothing now remains of the 1825 original.

It must have seemed magical to the thousands of waving and cheering people lining the route as Locomotion set off on that opening day, pulling a thirty-six-wagon train carrying over 450 passengers and coal. At the time, it was unprecedented, with one witness commenting, "The engine moved off with a grandeur and majesty, with a train of wagons in tow, as if it were a creature of might and intelligence."

Another spectator, as they watched the train pass, offered that it seemed "like a fair on the move… full of smoke, laughter, and wonder."

The regulations on that first run dictated that an ‘official’ on a horse must precede the engine while waving a flag to alert people to the danger. Another flag bore “Periculum privatum utilitas publica’ (At private risk for public good), which became the motto of the S&DR company.

The chap on the horse eventually moved out of the way, allowing the engine to pick up speed, although the trip wasn't exactly glamorous by modern standards. People sat or stood in open coal wagons, hastily fitted with wooden benches or hay for seating. There was an eighteen-passenger covered carriage named ‘Experiment’ reserved for dignitaries. One could argue that it was the world's first passenger coach, as it offered a degree of comfort, although it was not equipped with springs to smooth the ride. As you can see from my photograph of the model, it was based very much on the horse-drawn coaches of the day.

In the open wagons, passengers would suffer the sound of steam chuffing, wheels squealing, and the groan of iron on iron. Seemingly thunderous noise by early 19th-century standards. And that’s not to mention the jolting motion over the tracks with the air thick with smoke, coal soot, and the smell of burning oil and steam. Yet, those aboard loved the sheer thrill of travelling 'quickly'. The trip must have felt revolutionary, considering this was their first ride in a wheeled vehicle not pulled by horses, travelling faster than they had ever experienced, reaching up to fifteen mph.

The journey wasn't without mishaps. One wagon derailed, and there were pauses and repairs along the way. The train eventually took over three hours to cover the 20-mile stretch from Shildon to Stockton. Yet, despite the setbacks, the journey demonstrated that steam locomotion was practical and, although few imagined it at the time, would ultimately change the course of transportation forever. The success of the S&DR (now often referred to as "the grandparent of all railways.”) soon inspired the construction of other lines, but more on that later.

George Stephenson is an iconic figure in northeast England and a legend in engineering history. He was a self-taught genius who earned the title "The Father of the Railways." However, he should share that title with Edward Pease, a wealthy Darlington Quaker and industrialist who was one of the key backers of that first railway, working closely with Stephenson to make the dream a reality.

I'll come back to Edward in a moment. For now, let's take a glance at George's life story. It's one of grit and invention, as inspiring as the locomotives he designed to transform the world.

George was born in 1781 in Wylam, a town located a few miles west of my hometown of Blaydon, near Newcastle. His father worked at a coal mine, overseeing a stationary steam engine that pumped water out of the mine. George, who didn't learn to read or write until he was in his late teens, initially worked as a brakesman at Killingworth Colliery, a few miles northeast of Newcastle, where he was responsible for operating the machinery that raised coal from the mine shaft to the surface. However, the pay was low, so he took on various other jobs to earn extra money, including shoe repair and clock repair. He also taught himself mechanics, mathematics, and literacy during his little free time.

In 1814, George, who by then had earned a reputation in the colliery as a skilled and clever mechanic, built his first locomotive, Blücher, naming it after the Prussian general who arguably saved Wellington from defeat at Waterloo; George had an innate fascination with the battle. He believed the name symbolised power, reliability, and an unstoppable force, and he wanted people to associate these traits with his engine. Oh, and as an aside, George also invented a safety lamp for coal miners. But the ‘Geordie’ lamp used in almost all of northeast England’s mines is a story for another time.

Blücher wasn't the first such locomotive. Richard Trevithick built that for the Penydarren tramway. The first authenticated journey in the world was by that steam locomotive in 1804, when it hauled ten tons of iron from an ironworks in Wales. While that epic journey paved the way for the evolution of steam haulage, it's said that the engine couldn't move faster than a horse and cart. It also occasionally caused the cast iron rails to break, which were extremely expensive to replace.

The engine was, nevertheless, a leap forward in engineering. It proved locomotives could safely move on smooth rails with smooth wheels. While it drew the interest of George and several other colliery engineers, many others did not notice.

Those other colliery engineers developed their designs in the ten years following Trevithick’s first locomotive. Still, none quite matched George’s Blücher, which could pull eight loaded wagons carrying thirty tons of coal at four miles per hour. Not satisfied, George sought to improve his locomotive's power and introduced the "steam blast”. The redirection of exhaust steam up the locomotive's chimney caused a pull of air behind it, thereby increasing the draft. That innovative design made the locomotive truly practical.

So, let's turn our attention to Edward Pease, the visionary businessman behind the S&DR. While it’s right to credit George Stephenson with creating an effective and efficient locomotive, Edward Pease was the quiet driving force, both financially and philosophically, who used that invention as a practical mode of transport.

Edward, a prosperous wool merchant six years younger than George, belonged to a prominent Quaker family with deep roots in Darlington's industry and civic life. He was deeply religious, modest, and principled. A classic Quaker in temperament, he was also forward-thinking and quietly ambitious.

In the early 19th century, coal was transported from the coalfields of northeast England to the coast for shipment to London, either by river, relying on the tides, or by horse and cart along rough and rutted wagonways. Both were highly inefficient and labour-intensive. Pease wanted to build a tramway to carry coal more efficiently to the port of Stockton and to do so, joined with others to form the Stockton & Darlington Railway Company in 1818. Initially, the plan was to use horse-drawn wagons on this tramway.

In 1821, George, who after Blücher's success had built circa sixteen more locomotives for Killingworth and other collieries, heard about the plans for this new tramway and asked for a meeting with Pease, who he persuaded to abandon horses and try steam locomotives instead as they could pull fifty times the load that horses could draw. Impressed, Pease agreed to let Stephenson equip his line with this innovative idea, eventually hiring George as the Chief Engineer for the S&DR, neither of them realising how revolutionary their partnership would become.

Four years after that first meeting, the aspiration became a reality. Sadly, Edward couldn't be there on the first day of the S&DR's journey because one of his sons died the day before.

While Pease remained engaged in railway development, he preferred to avoid the spotlight. He retired from business in 1833 but maintained a good friendship with George Stephenson and his son Robert until the end of his life. Edward spent his final years as a 'plain' Quaker, firmly believing in peace, social reform, and the abolition of slavery, while grappling with guilt over his wealth. Being a pioneer is never easy, and later, Pease offered, "Had I known what I was to have gone through with, I would not have taken it on for a thousand pounds." Despite the struggle, what he invested in helped change the world.

Another of Edward’s sons, Joseph Pease, became the first Quaker member of Parliament and a significant figure in railway expansion. Edward Pease may not have invented the 'locomotive' engine. Still, he believed in it, funded it, and made it a reality. In Darlington, he's rightly honoured with statues, plaques, and a public park named in his honour.

Unsurprisingly, Newcastle raised a statue of George, too. He stands close to Newcastle's Central Station; interestingly, he does not look toward the station or the nearby city area, which bears his name and where many of his engines were built. Instead, like a proud father, he gazes at the bridge his son Robert built.

I wrote about Robert's High-Level Bridge over the River Tyne in Newcastle a couple of years ago in Sittin' in a Railway Station. Opened in 1849, it is now regarded as a masterpiece of Victorian engineering and one of the oldest surviving examples of a combined road and rail bridge. Its unique design features two arches that allow ships to pass underneath, while trains operate on the open top deck and road vehicles navigate the enclosed lower deck below. The lower deck also features walkways on either side of the road, enabling pedestrians to walk between Newcastle and Gateshead.

And it was with Robert that George followed up the success of the S&DR when, supported by another engineer, Henry Booth, they built ‘The Rocket’ that won the famous Rainhill Trials, a competition that the Liverpool and Manchester Railway Company (L&MR) held to choose the best locomotive design in a dramatic public test of steam power. Robert was Rocket's chief designer, basing the design of the Rocket on his father's vision and utilising an idea from Henry Booth, with financial support for the project provided by George's company.

The Rainhill Trials, conducted in October 1829, derived their name from their location near the village of Rainhill in Lancashire, now part of Merseyside in northwest England. The L&MR was constructing the world's first significant passenger and freight railway but had not yet determined whether to use stationary steam engines with cables, horses, or moving steam locomotives to pull the trains. To find the best solution, they launched a public competition inviting inventors to submit their locomotives for a dramatic, multi-day test.

The locomotives had to weigh no more than six tons, pull a load at least three times their weight, travel at least seventy miles over several runs back and forth on a level track and reach a minimum average speed of 10 mph (considered extremely fast at the time). There were five main competitors, including Rocket; the 'Sans Pareil', which proved a powerful locomotive but was over the weight restriction and had technical faults; 'Novelty' that although fast, also suffered breakdowns; 'Perseverance', which was unfortunately damaged on the way to the trial and proved too slow and finally the quickly withdrawn 'Cycloped' that was horse drawn (someone didn't read the user spec.)

Rocket was the only locomotive to complete the trials successfully. It hit a top speed of 30 mph, a scarcely believable achievement at the time, and just as importantly, it was reliable over long distances. The Stephensons won a prize of £500 (the equivalent of around £15,000 today, so hardly a staggering amount), and Rocket became the blueprint for almost every steam locomotive that followed.

By selecting the Rocket, the L&MR became a massive success, showing that steam locomotion was viable for carrying passengers, not just coal. Following the line's opening in September 1830, eight locomotives were in operation, all constructed at Stephenson's Newcastle works.

The L&MR's success ignited a global railway boom, with investors pouring money into new lines across Britain, Europe, and the world. The railways also accelerated Britain's industrialisation by connecting regions and transforming everyday life, making travel, trade, and communication significantly easier.

Let's return to Henry Booth, a brilliant but often overlooked figure in railway history. He was an inventor, businessman, and key supporter of steam railways. Without him, the Stephenson's Rocket might never have achieved its legendary success.

Henry came from a well-to-do Liverpool family that engaged in commerce and shipping. Following his father's death, he became treasurer and secretary of the L&MR. Although not a qualified engineer, Henry was inquisitive and innovative, involving himself in the technical discussions about the method that L&MR might select for the railway. He saw the potential of fast passenger trains and realised that the L&MR needed to adopt steam locomotives. However, in seeking a licence from Parliament to operate such a railway, George Stephenson, with whom Henry had faith, gave a poor account of himself.

Part of the issue was George’s strong northeast England dialect. His pronunciation, vocabulary, and broad, musical, and distinctive 'Geordie' intonation sounded very strange to the ears of educated Members of Parliament from around the country, and they found George difficult to understand. His plain speaking was also peppered with expressions from northeast England that sounded unpolished. This charmed some MPs, who saw him as genuine and friendly and respected his directness and honesty, but others struggled to follow him. But it wasn't just George's accent. The Stephensons did make some technical mistakes in their presentation.

Although Parliament initially denied the licence, Henry persuaded his sceptical fellow directors to trust Stephenson's vision by organising the Rainhill Trials to identify the best locomotive for the L&MR. He also successfully obtained a parliamentary licence on his second attempt.

Henry had seen Stephenson's other locomotives and suggested a revolutionary improvement: the multi-tubular boiler. Earlier locomotives had a single large flue, but using many smaller tubes dramatically increased the surface area for heating water, making such engines more powerful and efficient. Robert Stephenson utilised this idea when designing the Rocket.

Despite the success of the S&DR, public fears regarding safety persisted with this radical new form of transport, along with concerns from religious and social conservatives who were worried about travelling at “unnatural speed." Henry proved exceptionally skilled as a publicist for the L&MR, speaking at events and helping calm those fears. He even rode along when the Rocket raced at Rainhill, demonstrating confidence in the Stephensons and his faith in innovative technology. Henry remained secretary of the L&MR for many years and became a well-respected elder statesman of the railway world. Yet, he's often overshadowed by the Stephensons in popular memory, with historians referring to him as "the silent partner" of the Rocket's design.

I mentioned earlier that once opened, the L&MR proved to be an enormous success. Indeed, it proved to be far more successful than even its supporters had dared to hope. In the first year of operation, over 445,000 passengers travelled on it.

The railway's significant advantage over other forms of transport was its speed and reliability. Timetabled services were an innovative concept that offered a way to plan your travel. The railway also reduced journey time, taking about two hours to travel between Liverpool and Manchester instead of the entire day it would have taken by canal or coach. Tickets were reasonably priced, allowing both ‘ordinary’ people and business travellers to use the service. This service also transported raw materials between the Port of Liverpool and the factories in Manchester, as well as finished goods on the return journey.

Further innovation included the first double-track line, which allowed trains to move in each direction simultaneously, with signalmen and signals controlling movement. However, despite such safety features, the inaugural day of the service saw the railways' first passenger fatality, MP William Huskisson, who was accidentally struck and killed by a locomotive.

Given the success of his locomotives, George Stephenson became wealthy and respected. He spent his later years advising on railways and investing in mines and ironworks. His railway legacy is the 'Stephenson gauge' (4 ft 8½ in) for railway tracks, which became the standard gauge and is still used in over half of the world's railways today. There are many anecdotes as to why he chose that width. Some date to the Romans, others to the width of a cart horse's backside, but for me, it's simply because 4ft 8in matched the width of the track of horse-drawn coal 'chaldron' wagons used in northeast England. However, at this width, George noted that the flanges on the wheels were binding on some track curves, so he extended it by an extra quarter inch for each wheel.

Robert Stephenson, who, unlike his father, received a formal education in engineering and science, also became a prominent railway engineer. He and George are often called the "Stephensons of the Railway." George frequently served as the Chief Engineer of other early railways, working with Robert, who surveyed, oversaw construction, and designed viaducts, tunnels, and bridges. Their teamwork made early railways faster, safer, and more reliable.

Robert’s brilliance lay in refining ideas, applying mathematics, and turning concepts into efficient machines. George often devised practical initial solutions, while Robert refined them with technical finesse, resulting in safer, lighter, and more efficient locomotives. Gradually, George stepped back, trusting Robert's growing expertise and once saying his son "knew more in his pinkie than I did in my whole head."

As Robert's fame grew, he became the family's face of engineering, earning the title of “the greatest engineer of the 19th Century.” Nevertheless, he never stopped crediting his father as he took on significant projects, such as the London & Birmingham Railway, the High-Level Bridge in Newcastle, towards which George now gazes, and the Britannia Bridge over the Menai Strait. Robert also advised on railways worldwide, earning a global reputation as a respected engineer. Some might argue that George and Robert represent two distinct aspects of innovation: raw invention and refined execution.

I will share two more benefits that the railways brought to the UK. Here’s the first.

Before the 1840s, towns in Britain maintained their own local time according to the sun's position. For example, when it was ‘noon’ in London, it would still be 11:55 in Oxford, around 11:50 in Bristol, and already 12:06 in Newcastle.

These time differences weren't a big problem when people mostly travelled slowly on foot or by horse. But they were a nightmare when scheduling trains; for example, a train could leave at "11:00" in one town but arrive at "10:58" in another! Railway companies required a uniform, standardised time to establish dependable timetables and prevent confusion.

The solution was to use ‘London time’, set by the Royal Observatory at Greenwich, as the standard for the railway companies that soon became known as ‘Railway Time’. Initially, while trains operated according to railway schedules against railway time, stations and towns displayed their local time alongside railway time on their clocks. There remains an example of that on the clock outside the Corn Exchange in Bristol, where the red minute hand shows ‘Railway Time’, i.e. GMT/BST, and a black minute hand still shows ‘Bristol time’,

By the 1850s, most public clocks, especially at railway stations, were set to Greenwich Mean Time (daylight saving was still decades away); however, it took until 1880 for the British government to make GMT the official national time. Who knows how long Britain would have remained out of sync without the railway revolution?

The second benefit was the significant impact that the railways had on reading habits during the 19th and early 20th centuries. The advent of train travel created a new ‘reading space,’ with travellers carrying books and newspapers, thus creating demand for portable reading material.

Companies like, the now sadly demised, W.H. Smith began opening bookstalls at railway stations in the 1840s, selling newspapers, magazines, and specially printed soft-covered cheap novels, sometimes called ‘railway novels’ or ‘yellowbacks’ because of their vivid colours.

Other publishers soon followed suit, producing a comprehensive range of light and affordable books for train travellers. However, these cheaper publications went further, helping normalise leisure reading among broader sections of society, even when not travelling. And railways enabled the rapid distribution of such printed materials across the country, allowing bookshops in previously remote towns to stock the latest titles at affordable prices.

At the beginning of this piece, I mentioned I travelled to Hopetown via three trains, all running on time. I wish I could report it was the same for the return. Alas, two of my intended trains were cancelled. I couldn’t help but smile at the irony, and I suspect that George, Robert, and those earlier railway pioneers would have as well.