Time



This is a story about time. It features a host of Victorian eccentrics and leads a winding path from Chemistry Lock via Chester Station and Hilbre Island to the Trans-Altantic Cable.

Time and the Sun
People have used the sun to tell the time of day for millennia. At times with the day and night each divided into twelve hours. These hours were unequal, depending on the season. In medieval Europe, the Roman hours continued to be marked on sundials but the more important units of time were the canonical hours of the Orthodox and Catholic Church. During daylight, these followed the pattern set by the three-hour bells of the Roman markets, which were succeeded by the bells of local churches and monasteries. They rang prime (the first hour) at about 6 am, terce (the third hour) at about 9 am, sext (the sixth hour) at noon, nones (the ninth hour) at about 3 pm, and vespers at either 6 pm or sunset. Matins and lauds precede these irregularly in the morning hours; compline follows them irregularly before sleep; and the midnight office follows that.

The Venerable Bede is reported to have instructed his followers in the art of telling time by interpreting their shadow lengths. However, Bede's important association with sundials is that he encouraged the use of canonical sundials to fix the times of prayers. Bede had a serious interest in time: his "On the Reckoning of Time" (De temporum ratione) included an introduction to the traditional ancient and medieval view of the cosmos, including an explanation of how the spherical earth (he knew it was not flat) influenced the changing length of daylight, of how the seasonal motion of the Sun and Moon influenced the changing appearance of the new moon at evening twilight. Bede also records the effect of the moon on tides. He shows that the twice-daily timing of tides is related to the Moon and that the lunar monthly cycle of spring and neap tides is also related to the Moon's position. He goes on to note that the times of tides vary along the same coast and that the water movements cause low tide at one place when there is high tide elsewhere. Since the focus of his book was the computus, Bede gave instructions for computing the date of Easter from the date of the Paschal full moon, for calculating the motion of the Sun and Moon through the zodiac, and for many other calculations related to the calendar. Bede's almost obsession with time and dates probably coloured his view of the reasons for the historical Battle of Chester - which he in part puts down to a disagreement over the date of Easter.

In higher latitudes the length of daylight in the summer and the winter months differ signifcantly and dawn or dusk form a poor basis for any systematic time. Noon is a far better choice, as it can always be taken as the middle of the day. Astronomers still use "Julian Days" (or "Astronomical days") which run from noon to noon rather than midnight to midnight ("solar" or "siderial") days. Determining noon is simple, if the sun is visible, it is when the sun is highest in the sky above the horizon and the shadow of a suitably placed stick is shortest. In the northern hemisphere it is also when the shadow points true north. A sundial is effectievely a fixed stick (gnomon) which casts a shadow on a plate (dial) marked off in hours. The earliest sundials known from the archaeological record are shadow clocks (1500 BC or BCE) from ancient Egyptian astronomy and Babylonian astronomy. Presumably, humans were telling time from shadow-lengths at an even earlier date. The Roman writer Vitruvius (born 80-70 BC) lists dials and shadow clocks known at that time in his "De architectura" (c. 25 BC), so their were almost certainly sundials in Roman Chester. In fact the Romans appear to have imported the sundial from Sicily in about 263 BC. Roman Timekeeping had a period from sunrise to sunset divided into twelve hours, with the night divided into four watches whose passage was tracked by the use of water clocks.

It is self evident that with a small sundial the time can only be estimated roughly. For more accurate estimates the simplest solution is to build a larger sundial. The sundial shown in the image is the worlds largest stone sundial, accurate to 2 seconds. The "Vrihat Samrat Yantra", which means the "great king of instruments", is 88 feet (27 m) high; its shadow tells the time of day. Its face is angled at 27 degrees, the latitude of Jaipur, where it is located – so it points, as does any sundial at Polaris. The Hindu chhatri (small cupola) on top is used as a platform for announcing eclipses and the arrival of monsoons. The shadow moves the width of a human hand in a minute.

Chester has few notable sundials. St Mary on the Hill has a sundial probably dating to the 18th Century with a copper dial and a slightly damaged gnomon. However there is a little known connection between Chester and early time-keeping. The "navicula" was a medieval instrument used to estimate the time at sea and which was shaped like a little ship. The cursor (with a plumb line attached) was slid up/down the "mast" to the correct latitude. The user then sighted the sun through the pair of sighting holes at either end of the "ship's deck". The plumb line then marked what hour of the day it was. It is related to the sextant. One of the surviving manuscripts relating to the "navicula" has been linked to the Austin friary at Warrington and mentions Chester as a specific place. The document shows characteristic signs of Chester dialect and contains references to Chaucer's "Treatise on the Astrolabe". It is possible that Chester may have been a medieval center of mathematical knowledge given that it was the possible home of Robert of Chester who worked in the 12th Century and translated several important works from Arabic into Latin, including at least one work on mathematics. Chaucer (c. 1340s – 25 October 1400's) also based his work on Arabic technology.

Chester's "master clock" appears to have been that at St Peter by the High Cross. This is discussed in greater detail under Clockmakers. The actual agreement for the provision of clock is recorded in Chester "Assembley Order 492" of 1585:


 * "Whereas William Sampsoune clockmaker exhibiteth his bill to be free of this citie in consideracon to make a clock and orderly and substantial chymes in the Parish Church of St. Peter th'appostle within the said Cittie with a dyall streetwards there to dicerne the houres and tymes of the day upon his own charges (having found to him all carpenters' work, ropes, piece and iron) which being waied and considered it is news fully agreed upon by the said Maior etc. That the saide Sampson After that he shall have fully made the saide clock, chymes and dyall in sorte as before shall be enfranchised and made free gratis in consideracon thereof."

The church clock was at one time provided with "Jacks", animated wooden figures who rang the bell. These were paid for (1612) by Robert Amerye, a Chester ironmonger who is otherwise noted for putting on the play "Chester's Prince" in 1610. Accuracy to 15 minutes was pretty good going as few clocks could achieve this. Most church clocks at the time only had a single hour hand (one such clock still survives at St Lawrence, Stoak). It is perhaps not a co-incidence that the church clock at St Peter was installed quite soon after the dissolution of the monasteries. Prior to this the monasteries would have provided the time of day. The public mechanical clock and the movable type printing press were two of the most important and complex "general purpose" technologies of the late medieval period. The argument has been made that public clocks helped regulate economic activity and therefore improve efficiency. For example parties could agree to meet at a specific time. Both time-keeping and the duplication of knowledge may well have been mainly the province of monks and friars prior to the Reformation, which moved these functions into secular hands. It may be no coincidence that that the Reformation was followed by growth in both the number of public clocks and printing presses. For more on the history of printing in Chester, see Bookseller.

Time at Sea
Knowing the time is essential for accurate navigation at sea, especially when out of sight of land. With a compass alone it is possible to determine direction and the maximum altitude of the sun can be used to determine how far north or south one has sailed - if the sun is directly overhead at its highest then the ship is on the equator. Determining the distance east or west is more complicated as this needs an accurate clock so that local noon time can be compared with time at "home". Unfortunately, early clocks did not work well at sea, as the bobbing of a ship would disturb the action of any pendulum and other escapements fared little better. Accurate naval clocks were first developed in the 18th century, and were a major technical achievement. They were largely the work on one man: John Harrison. Harrison's solution revolutionized navigation and greatly increased the safety of long-distance sea travel. The problem he solved was considered so important following the Scilly naval disaster of 22nd October 1707 that the British Parliament offered financial rewards of up to £20,000 (equivalent to £3.17 million in 2020) under the 1714 Longitude Act. In 1730, Harrison presented his first design, and worked over many years on improved designs, making several advances in time-keeping technology, finally turning to what were called sea watches. Harrison gained support from the Longitude Board in building and testing his designs. Toward the end of his life, he received recognition and a reward from Parliament. Somewhat surprisingly, the other great standby of navigation, the sextant only begcame well known in an early form about 1731, although early reflecting instruments were proposed by scientists such as Robert Hooke and Isaac Newton. Before ships clocks became widely available and affordable, methods of telling the time at sea developed into such elaborate methods as very accurate measurement of the position of the moon or even attempts to use the moons of jupiter.

Time on a sundial and time on a watch are not the same. This is due to the fact that the earth does not orbit the sun in a perfect circle and the fact that the earth is tilted relative to its orbit around the sun.Apparent time, and the sundial, can be ahead (fast) of an accurate clock by as much as 16 min 33 s (around 3 November), or behind (slow) by as much as 14 min 6 s (around 11 February). The "equation of time" relates sundial time to watch time and has zeros near 15 April, 13 June, 1 September, and 25 December (when both agree), but even these vary due to leap years.

A measurement of the noon position of the sun might only be approximate and clock time can be up to about 15 minutes out as regards solar time. The photo of the Eastgate clock was taken at “noon” solar time (as a sundial would measure it). At major ports a more accurate measurement of “noon” was made using special "transit" telescopes to determine when the sun was due south at the port in question. Dr. Harold Whichello, an amateur astronomer from Tattenhall was still bemoaning the lack of accuracy of church clocks in 1900:


 * "In the country, especially if remote from the rail, it is always difficult to find the right time. In this village the church clock is always wrong. Having no transit instrument, I have often thought of setting up a sundial by which to correct my clocks once or twice a week."

For many years Liverpool had an observatory on the current site of the Waterloo docks. The Bidston Observatory was built in 1866 when Liverpool Observatory had to relocate due to the expansion of Waterloo Docks. It was built alongside Bidston Lighthouse and Signals Station, on land owned by the Mersey Docks and Harbour Board. George Fosbery Lyster was the architect. John Hartnup, astronomer and Assistant Secretary to the Royal Astronomical Society, had been the Director of Liverpool Observatory since it was built in 1843. Amongst his achievements was the calculation of the longitude of Liverpool, which was important for navigation and the development of the port. He presided over the move to Bidston Hill, and continued as director of Bidston Observatory until his retirement in 1885, when he was succeeded by his son. The second director, [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Hartnup_Jr. John Hartnup Jr] died on 21 April 1892, when he fell from the roof of the Observatory while making meteorological observations.

The Observatory’s two levels of cellars and other features made it especially suited for calibrating chronometers under controlled conditions of temperature and seismic vibrations. Mariners sent their chronometers from all over the empire for calibration at Bidston. In 1929 the Tidal Institute was amalgamated with the observatory. Under the direction of Joseph Proudman, Arthur Doodson became the leading authority on tidal predictions and built mechanical computers to calculate tidal timings. Bidston Observatory was deemed of national importance during the Second World War and predicted the tides for the D-Day landings, using one of Doodson's mechanical computers.

The exact time was needed for nautical navigation and was transferred to ships in the docks at Liverpool by the firing of the "one o’clock gun"; the gun was fired for the last time on the 18th of July 1969.

It is not known how mariners set their clocks at Chester, or any of it's out-ports such as Neston and Parkgate. Given that the port had entered a serious decline at an early date and it's trade was mostly coastal, it is unlikely that there was ever any inclination to establish special time-keeping measures such as an observatory at Chester.

Railway Time
Before the arrival of the railways, journeys between the larger cities and towns could take many hours or days, and the local time differences could be dealt with by adjusting the hands of a watch periodically en route. In Britain, the coaching companies published schedules providing details of the corrections required. With the coming of the railways the local time was at first widely used as the basis for time, but eventually stationmasters adjusted their clocks using tables supplied by the railway company to convert local time to London Time. This was transmitted using various means over the local rail network, often with one pocketwatch being set off another. By the time the information reached a signalman at an isolated box there were all sorts of errors which could have added up – errors in reading, setting and maintaining an accurate time. To add to the confusion, local time varied from place to place. This is on top of the all the sources of error discussed above. Railway timetables advised how train departure and arrival times might vary from local times – by as much as over 15 minutes. Obviously, there are circumstances on a railway when you might want to ensure that two trains are not trying to use the same length of track at the same time. The Great Western Railway was the first to standardise its timetable on Greenwich Mean Time, in November 1840. One of the most vociferous proponents of standardising time on the railways was Henry Booth, Secretary of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, who by January 1846 had ordered the adjustment of clocks to Greenwich Mean Time at both Liverpool and Manchester stations. On 22 September 1847, the Railway Clearing House, set up five years earlier to coordinate the distribution of revenue between railway companies, decreed that "GMT be adopted at all stations as soon as the General Post Office permitted it". From 1 December 1847, the London and North Western and the Caledonian Railways switched over. By January 1848, according to Bradshaws Railway Guide, the railways that had adopted London Time included the London and South Western, the Midland, the Chester and Birkenhead, the Lancaster and Carlisle, the East Lancashire and the York and North Midland.

However, there was still one weakness in the system, unless the local time was accurate the station clocks would not be set accurately, and as noted above this time had to distributed to others.

Jones the Chemist


Chester was already failing as a port and before the railways arrived. Tanning is still a major industry in Chester, but there is a shortage of oak-bark to use in the process as Delamere forest has been over-worked. Alternative materials are explored and this leads to the constrution of a very noxious chemical works by the River Dee. On 13th August 1812 the North Wales Gazette reported:


 * "Mr. Andrew Patten, of Manchester, has obtained a patent for a discovery in Tanning Leather, by the use of Pyroligneous, or Wood-acid. The process is as follows. The hides to be tanned are to be first limed, haired, fleshed, aud beamed, in the manner in general used by tanners after which they are to be well washed, and cleared of the lime and masterings, and then immersed into a pit of weak liquor made from oak bark, in which they must remain for five or six weeks, and he handled well till they begin to bloom then they are to be taken out and immersed into a pit of pyroligueous acid for about a fortnight, more or less, according to the substances of the hides. Before the pyroligueous acid is put into the pit it must be well filtered, or cleared from the oily or tarry matter — In order to bring the hides as nearly as possible to the colour which is generally given to leather, they should be removed into a pit of strong ooze, or bark liquor, and be suffered to remain there for three or four weeks or they may be put into two such leys three or four weeks, then they may be taken up and dried for sale — if the hides are very heavy they must lie longer in the acid and in the bark liquor."

Further information on this process is given in The Medical and Physical Journal, Volume 28. Andrew Patten's co-inventor was Charles Hankinson of Chester - who gives the occupation of Tanner in the patent. Pigot's Directory of Chester lists three pyroligneous acid manufacturers: Gaman & Palin of Stone Bridge, Thomas Jones of Tarvin Lane and George Topham of "Botany Bay" (on the Canalside between Cow Lane bridge and Queen Street).

The noxious chemical works by the Castle was eventually closed, but not before it was recorded by the painter Francis Nicholson. Chemistry Lock on the Canalside in Boughton was built c1773 by Samuel Weston (active 1768-1804) for the Chester Canal Company and named after the former chemical factory which stood nearby which, acording to some accounts, produced naphtha. Other sources have the factory producing materials for the leather tanning industry such as "gallic acid" or "tannic acid" from oak-galls or "oak-apples". Oak galls are balls of bark and the excretions of wasps. They host wasp larva, and grow when a gall wasp (fam. Cynipidae) punctures an oak tree and deposits their larva into the hole. This causes the tree to secrete tannic and gallic acids (English oak galls comprise 15 to 20 per cent of gallotannic acid), creating a spherical gall nut, oak gall, or oak apple. They typically have a hole where the wasp larva pokes its way through to escape.

Robert Lewis Jones appears to have inherited the works from his father Thomas (he had a brother of the same name). Robert lived in Tarvin Road according to the census data and the tithe maps show his ownership and use of the site. He would eventually sell the business to Major and Turner – who later moved to Saltney. One of the processes which Jones used was the “dry distillation” of oak galls. This drives off various gasses which are collected and from which useful chemicals can be made. These include materials useful for tanning leather, making inks etc. Heating up wood to drive off inflammable vapours (including methanol - which was then known as "wood alcohol") in a big vessel can be dangerous. The picture on the left shows the aftermath of a boiler explosion elsewhere, but we know that there were fires and even deaths at Chemistry Lock. Phil Cook provides the following additional information:


 * "Gordon Emery, in ‘The Old Chester Canal-A History and Guide’, records the change of name in 1810, when Mr Jones of ‘the chemistry’ was instructed to lay no more soil on the towing path. In 1807 he had been granted permission to take cooling water from the canal for his steam engine, on condition that cinders from the engine be used to repair the tow path, and that he paid an annual rent of two guineas. Mr Jones, proprietor of the Gallic Acid Works near the Spittlefields, appeared on the Tithe Map for Great Boughton, on a site 80 yards east of the lock. The small chemical works probably used oak galls and bark to make the acid which was used in tanning. The name Chemistry Lock had become officially associated with this lock by 1856. The Canal Company appointed Samuel Dunning as the lock keeper, Hoole Lane and Chemistry Locks. Major and Co., listed as manufacturing chemists here, may well have taken over from Robert Lewis Jones, but after fires in 1845, 1852 and 1861, when the walls were ‘Much shaken such that the building will have to be erected afresh’, the works were transferred to Queensferry and eventually became part of the Midland Tar distillers."

Jones may well have thought that working on the railway would be a safer option. The picture on the right shows this is not always the case – curiously, the train in question had recently passed Chemistry Lock and one of the drivers was named Jones!

Jones filed a patent on the work he had done at Chemistry Lock, but by the time the patent was granted he had already moved to a job with the railway. The patent records for 1846 list a patent to:


 * Robert Lewis Jones of Chester, railway agent, for improvements in reducing charcoal and similar matters to powder aud in treating same when in a state of powder so as to them suitable to be used in place of vegetable black, drop black, lamp black and other matters: March 5 six months.

Jones the Station Manager
Jones joined the railway company and became Station Manager at Chester Station – here shown with the original position of the station clock (more of the clock later). Robert Lewis Jones joined the railways at about the time of "Railway Mania" - when railway shares were at first thought of as a wonderful investment. You could buy shares for a deposit (of course the company might later come looking for the rest) and the value of the shares soared as company after company was formed and speculation went wild. The mania reached its zenith in 1846, when 272 Acts of Parliament setting up new railway companies were passed, with the proposed routes totaling 9,500 miles (15,300 km).

Then came the crash of share prices. Companies called in the debts left after the deposits and many went bust. About a third of the railways authorised were never built. The “Hunting of the Snark” (c1875, Lewis Carroll) even pokes fun at railway shares:


 * "They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; They pursued it with forks and hope; They threatened its life with a railway-share; They charmed it with smiles and soap"

Railway competition now became cut-throat. The Grand Junction Railway had planned a route through Chester to Birekenhead, but went to Liverpool instead. A plan by Mersey ferry-operators to build a railway from Birkenhead to Chester got into problems when the line on to Crewe went bust and was bought by the Grand Junction Railway, who then arranged the timetable to make the trip to Liverpool via Birkenhead as inconvenient as possible. Another plan was to link Chester to Lancashire through a railway via Frodsham, but the smaller companies involved had problems raising cash in the aftermath of Railway Mania. Many of the smaller railways were being bought out by the “big few” for much less than the cost of their construction works and the value of their shares. In late 1850 a delayed route from Chester towards Warrington finaly opened. The Chester-Warrington line had been opened by the Birkenhead, Lancashire and Cheshire Junction Railway Company and was built to connect Chester and the manufacturing districts of Lancashire by making a junction near Warrington with the Grand Junction Railway. The BL&CJR had taken over the financially troubled Chester and Birkenhead Railway in 1847, keeping its own name for the combined company. Interests in the Birkenhead docks were aware that they needed a railway connection towards Manchester and the Lancashire manufacturing districts, to enable them to compete with Liverpool. There were also profits to be made by shortening the journey time from Manchester to Chester, for the races, and the new railway would avoid a detour via Crewe and cut the journey time in half. The Birkenhead, Lancashire and Cheshire Junction Railway was incorporated on 26 June 1846 with capital of £1.5 million, to build from Chester to Walton Junction, near Warrington, where it would connect with the Grand Junction line, leading to Manchester. Construction of the Warrington line proceeded, although the shortage of money following the Railway Mania period slowed progress considerably. In October 1850 there was a formal opening, but the actual public opening took place on 18 December 1850. Such were the concerns over money and competition that the directors may have paid little attention to safety.

The line was to have two major engineering projects the first being the 1¼ mile long Sutton Tunnel and the viaduct to cross the Weaver Navigation near Frodsham. The tunnel was duly completed as was the impressive viaduct constructed mainly of brick with cast iron spans. The Sutton Tunnel is 1 mile 154 yards long and is located to the north of Frodsham, to the south of Norton and to the west of Preston Brook villages close to Sutton Weaver. Sutton Tunnel, also sometimes described as Halton Tunnel, is a single bore tunnel that has two tracks.

One puzzle is why a tunnel was needed at all. It is shallower than many railway cuttings. The answer seems to be that Sir Richard Brooke of Norton Priory, didn't like the idea of a railway accross his land. There was nothing new in this sort of objection. During the mid-18th century, Sir Richard Brooke was involved in a campaign to prevent the Bridgewater Canal from being built through his estate. The Bridgewater Canal Extension Act had been passed in 1762, and it made allowances for limited disturbance to the Norton estate. However Sir Richard did not see the necessity for the canal and opposed its passing through his estate. In 1773 the canal was opened from Manchester to Runcorn, except for 1 mile (2 km) across the estate, which meant that goods had to be unloaded and carted around it. Eventually Sir Richard capitulated, and the canal was completed throughout its length by March 1776. During the 19th century the estate was again affected by transport projects. In 1804 the Runcorn to Latchford Canal was opened, replacing the Mersey and Irwell Navigation; this cut off the northern part of the estate, making it only accessible by a bridge. The Grand Junction Railway was built across the estate in 1837. It seems that the Sutton Tunnel was constructed to avoid further objections and delay.

A Day at the Races


One of the money-making options for the new “Chester Junction Railway” was to run special trains for the races at Chester. Jones, as Station Manager at Chester, was advised of this by the railway but they did little more than sent him a copy of a “flyer” advertising the trains and noting that the trains would return from Chester "as soon as filled-up". This was the first Cup Day after the railway had opened, so there was little experience of what that would mean at Chester station. The result was that 4,000 people arrived at Manchester Victoria Station on Chester Cup Day eager to travel to the races on this new route and there were problems assembling sufficient rolling stock to provide for this unexpected number of customers. All trains started late. The 7:45am, with 2 locomotives and 38 carriages arrived at Chester at 11:30 (over 2 hours late). It was clear to all that the trains were grossly overloaded - travellers on one train, of 50 carriages, had to get out and walk up an incline because the locomotive was incapable of moving the weight of the passengers.

Despite the cold weather on the 30th April 1851, the Roodee was crowded with over 18,000 as never before. The big race proved to be one of the most exciting ever seen, with 28 starters: the favourite being a horse called "Rhesus", at 4 to 1. The second favourite was "Italian" and other fancied horses included "Black Docter", "Hesse Hombourg" and "Russborough". After three false starts, they got away at the fourth attempt. Although Rhesus and Italian were always handy throughout the race, Nancy and Black Docter managed to establish themselves at the front. Then, on the run in, Hesse Hombourg and Rhesus put in a strong challenge; but somehow, Nancy and Black Docter managed to stay ahead to the winning post, with Nancy a neck ahead of the "Docter".

The Manchester people left the races smartly as they wanted to make sure they got home. By 6pm, the Station Master, one John Critchley, estimated that Chester Station was teeming with some 5,000 people. The first train was immediately filled, with people climbing on the carriage roofs, but they were ordered down "sternly" by Robert Lewis Jones. Trains leaving Chester were overloaded as thousands of race-goers tried to board – possibly after a few drinks and noting the failing weather. Many of the 3rd class were in open trucks. A second train left with some 430 passengers. Neither of these first two trains take any other part in the story of what was to come. The threee trains which followed were not so lucky.

When the second train departed the crowd surged across the tracks to another standing in a siding and bearing a notice "Manchester via Warrington" on its side. This was quickly filled with some 900 passengers in only 18 small carriages. The train left the siding at about 6.50 pm hauled by the locomotive "Druid". It was assisted up the Hoole incline from Chester station by another locomotive, "No. 16", driven by David Evans, pushing at the back.



"No. 16" returned to Chester to collect its own train and the train pulled by "Druid" made "good speed" to Frodsham where some passengers left it. Shortly after leaving Chester, it began to rain, and for George Allen, "Druid"'s driver and Thomas Leach, his fireman, on the open footplate, it bacame very uncomfortable, but they were accustomed to this, having both worked on locomotive footplates for a number of years. The rain turned to sleet, and "Druid"'s driving wheels had started to slip. From Frodsham station to the Sutton Weaver Viaduct there is an uphill gradient of 1:240 and the fireman and a local platelayer sanded the rails. Despite this the train made only slow progress, even on the level viaduct. Beyond the viaduct the tunnel also had an uphill gradient of 1:264 and it was a struggle to keep the train moving.

By this time the train hauled by "No. 16" had left Chester with only 430 passengers and was catching up with "Druid"'s somewhat overloaded train. By the time it arrived near Sutton tunnel "No. 16" was only 55-64 m behind "Druid". "Druid"'s guard, Henry Blackford, signalled to the following train to come behind and push his train. This it did, but then "No. 16"'s wheels also began to slip. In the middle of the 2 km tunnel the two trains came to a halt.

By now the next train, pulled by "Albert", had arrived in Frodsham station and it was allowed to leave two minutes later, being effectively just "waved through". At this precise moment, the two earlier trains were just entering Sutton Tunnel, but Henry Jones, the Station Master at Frodsham, had no means of knowing this. This was 14 minutes after "No. 16"'s train had left and 24 minutes after "Druid"'s train; the company's rules allowed trains to pass intermediate stations at intervals of five minutes. There was no formal signalling system in those days and Henry Jones allowed William Dixon, "Albert"'s driver, to leave without giving him any warning about the trains ahead of him. "Albert"'s train entered the tunnel at 15–20 miles per hour. The driver Dixon noticed a lot of steam in the tunnel and stated that he slowed - he also admitted that he could see no more than a yard due to the smoke.

Inevitably, "Albert" collided with the rear of "No. 16"'s train. The guard from "No. 16"'s train walked back with a red light and stopped the next train on the viaduct. Five people had been killed outright and four died later. Between 30 and 40 people were injured. About 1,600 people were crowded inside the tunnel in complete darkness. The Government Inspector Capt. R M Laffan, described:


 * "A scene of fearful confusion ensued: 1,600 passengers found themselves crowded together in perfect darkness: while some of them were endeavouring to procure themselves a light from the engines, the noise of another train was heard approaching and led all parties to dread a second collision."

The tunnel at 1 mile 154 yards long has only one ventilation shaft. The shaft was used to free some victims from the tunnel after the accident. Fortunattely for those trapped there was no fire, otherwise this could have become one of the worst railway disasters ever. A fire would have turned the tunnel into a blast furnace as happened at Summit Tunnel in 1984 – that was a goods train.

Quintinshill rail disaster, Britains worst, only killed around 226.

Disaster!
The timing could not have been worse. The Great Exhibition (sometimes referred to as the Crystal Palace Exhibition in reference to the temporary structure in which it was held), an international exhibition, took place in Hyde Park, London, from 1 May to 15 October 1851. It was the first in a series of World's Fairs, exhibitions of culture and industry that became popular in the 19th century. The Great Exhibition was organised by Henry Cole and by Prince Albert, husband of the reigning monarch of the United Kingdom, Queen Victoria. Its prime motive was for Britain to make "clear to the world its role as industrial leader". Among the exhibits was the huge press manufactured at Bank Quay in Warrington and used to lift up to 1144 ton sections of the Britannia bridge into place over the Menai Straits on the Chester-Holyhead railway. This was such a huge contraption that when its cylinder was cast, it was ten days before it cooled such that it could even be approached by "men well inured to heat".

Inquest
Jones was examined at the inquest and stated:


 * "My duty is to see that all the departments are carefully attended to hy competent persons. I have nothing to do with the arrival or despatch of trains beyond a general supervision. There is a station-master for that, and a superintendent under him. (Produced a book of the rules drawn up for the guidance of the officers and men employed at the station.) There is a supplementary rule that each person will be expected to be acquainted with the rules of the various companies working in the Chester station, so far as may affect his particular duties. There is no portion of the general station at Chester allotted specially to the Cheshire Junction Company, I saw most of the trains leave on Wednesday evening last. Remember particularly the train which left at a quarter-past seven, because there was a private carriage attached to it. There were, I should say, about 400 empty carriages in and about the station. Many passengers were anxious to go by this train, and some of them had got upon the roofs of the carriages, as there was not room inside. They were ordered to get down by me befure the train started."

The inquiry even considered that the weight of passengers was so great that parts of the carriage woodwork distorted to the extent that it bore upon the wheels of the train and acted as a brake. The inquiry (Captain Laffan), in considering the events at Chester before the departure of overloaded trains returning from the race meeting, pays particular attention to time-keeping at Chester Station. Captain Laffan concluded that:


 * "Throughout the present inquiry great difficulty was experienced, in consequence of its being impossible to obtrain from the Company servants any accurate evidence as to time. The Company do not require that their servants should carry watches; and the clocks at the stations are placed inside the buildings, and cannot be seen by the parties who have charge of the trains."

In fact, time-keeping at Chester was so poor that Laffan had to get all of the time data used at the inquiry from passangers on the ill-fated train. As noted above, Robert Lewis Jones was present at Chester Station and had attempted to control the crowding of the trains, especially when people started to clamber onto the roofs of the carriages. Although Jones was not personally censured the inquiry stated that:


 * "..all the servants of the Company, in any way concerned, acted with a singular absence of all ordinary prudence and discretion."

The inquiry recommended the installation of a telegraph through the tunnel and commented severely on the importance of timekeeping by railway staff. There are perhaps hints of a "whitewash": the inquest on the dead was held in the Red Lion, Preston Brook, from the 3rd May until the 12th. The foreman of the jury was a Dr. Wilson from Preston Brook. Wilson was Agent for Sir Richard Brooke of Norton Priory, who had insisted that the tunnel be built in the first place rather than have yet another transport link crossing his estate.

Time-keeping
Jones may have been a versatile fellow but he was no clockmaker and it is likely that he was assisted by someone in developing his electrical clock system. One possible candidate is Thomas Moreland, a Chester clockmaker who also appears to have been involved with the early development of the railway in Chester (see: Railway Times: Volume 2). Moreland (who is described as "a character" in the Cheshire Sheaf) had a workshop near the station in Brook Street (according to Hemingway's "Poll Book") and is known to have made at least two clocks for the booking office at Chester Station. Moreland later moved to Northgate Street. Moreland's other clocks in Chester included that on the Market Hall and the clock on St John's Hospital. He also made the Christleton church clock.

Sources and Links

 * The Navicula Sundial: