The fear that many men have of being seen to cry or show their fears has a large part to play in this story. This, together with a total lack of sensitivity on the part of the secondary players in the drama, a fear of the Company and a fear of causing delays to trains, brought about the Manor House crash.
James Holmes was 33 years old and had worked for the North Eastern Railway as a signalman since he joined the service in 1881. Since 1891 he had been working Manor House signal-box on the York to Darlington main line, three miles north of Thirsk and five miles south of Northallerton. It was a small, brick-built cabin on the up side of the line with seven levers to work distant, home and starting signals on the up and down main lines and a point lever for a short siding on the down side. The next signal-box to the north was Otterington, the next south was Avenue Junction, each roughly 1¼ miles away. He lived 2½ miles from the box with his wife and several children in a small house at the village of Thornton le Moor. Every day, twice a day, he walked through the lanes to work, come snow, rain or sun, on twelve hour shifts; he was happy enough, for the hours were no longer than in any other job and, after the walk, he was in the warm and the dry and his pay of 20 shillings a week was above average for that area and it was regular.
Sunday 30th October 1892 was his day off and he rested so well that he spent all Monday working in his orchard picking apples for market before walking to the signal-box for the twelve hour night shift. Between 18:00 and 06:00, James Holmes signaled about 95 trains including several very important expresses such as the Up Scotsman with Pullman cars. At 06:00 he was relieved by his mate, but he waited until the signalman from Avenue Junction arrived at Manor House so they could both walk home to Thornton together. He arrived at home at about 07:15,
put his bag in the kitchen and began to clear the ashes from the fire to relight it, and while he was doing this his wife came in to say that their youngest daughter, Rosy, who had been unwell for several days was decidedly unwell and was breathing heavily. James said “ I will go to bed now, put her in with me. You get Teddy off to school, see to the other children and when you've done bring me some tea and a bite to eat.” Two hours later, Mrs Holmes brought James his breakfast; he ate and fell asleep at 09:30. Two and a half hours later he was shocked out of a deep sleep by his wife, shaking him and shouting “Jim, Jim, Rosys in a fit!” James tumbled out of bed and told his wife to fetch a neighbour, an older woman. This worthy took one look at the child and said she needed a doctor. The doctor lived in Northallerton, five miles away. James Holmes walked and ran the mile to Otterington Station, got a lift on the down goods train and hurried to the doctors house only to be told that he had gone out on his rounds - including calls in Thornton le Moor. James went to the pub, had a half and a sandwich, and then set out on the long walk home, hoping to meet the doctor on the way. He did not see him. He arrived home to find his wife in tears and their daughter Rosy dead.
Mrs Holmes was devastated and could not be left alone, James was shocked and physically exhausted. He had had 2½ hours sleep in the previous 29 hours, he had walked nine miles since 06:00 that morning and that on very little food. He now set out to walk the mile or so to Otterington station to send a telegram to his mother in York, to ask her to come to Thornton. He also intended to ask his Inspector, based in Northallerton, to relieve him of duty on the approaching nightshift. He sent his telegram to York and asked his Station Master, Mr Kirby, to arrange relief for him that night “ as I have just had a child die very sudden and Im in bad fettle for work”. There must be times when the English “stiff upper lip” is a bad thing. This was such an occasion. Mr Kirby was unimpressed by James child dying and said that he would do what he could with the Northallerton Inspector but that he, James, must go home, prepare for work and return to the station later to see if he had been relieved or not. James Holmes walked another mile home.
He returned to Otterington station at 19:30, having slept for only 2½ hours in the preceeding 35 hours. Station Master Kirby may not have known this, but he knew James was tired and distressed,“in bad fettle for work”. When he told him that he could not be relieved, James said: "its a bad job. I shouldn't care so much for myself, I am most bothered about my wife". James would reveal his true feelings no more than that, while Kirby, scared of having delays to trains set at his door, did not suggest the obvious solution, that of switching Manor House box out of
circuit. Before James set out for the walk along the track to work, he spoke with the signalman in Otterington box, saying:“Harry, I am about done up for work. I never been off my legs since 12 oclock. I had to walk from Northallerton and twice to Otterington and back”. Never did he utter the precise words "I am unfit for work", and this was used later against him. He gave all kinds of warnings - his very appearance should have been enough - but neither he nor anyone else wanted to stand firm and refuse to work.
He worked well for the first part of the shift and by 03:40 on the 2nd November was actually priding himself on how well he was bearing up. By that time he had been awake and working hard for 48 hours with only 2½ hours sleep. The night was cold with patchy fog and the trains were running seven or eight an hour, one passing the box every 8½ or 9 minutes. The up Scotsman that night was running in two parts with a goods train in between them.
The first part of the express ran past the box at 03:38; James gave it “On line” to his mate at Avenue Junction, sent “Line clear” (corresponding to “Train out of section” in more modern times) to Otterington and put his signals to danger behind the express. It was at this point that the stamina of James Holmes ran out. No sooner than he had sat down in his chair, he was instantly asleep. Not ordinary sleep, but the deep sleep of an exhausted man. Some may have experience of it, a strange sleep where things like bell codes still have the power to command reflex actions from a man. Harry Eden in Otterington box rang “Call Attention” for the goods train, James got out of his chair, gave the road and went back to sleep. He in all probability never woke while he was working his instruments.
The goods train driver found Manor House signals against him and came to a stand at the home signal at 03:51. He did not blow his whistle and James Holmes slept on. Harry Eden was reading by his fire when he received “Train on line” for the second part of the Scotch express at 04:00. Only then did he see his instruments for the section to Manor House were still showing “Train on line” for the goods train. The North Eastern Railway block signaling regulation allowed Harry to send the "Be Ready" signal to James Holmes at Manor House box even though the instrument showed the line was occupied (“Be Ready” was the equivalent of “Is line clear?”). The bellcode woke James Holmes who, hearing the express passenger code and seeing that he still had “Train on line” showing on his instrument, came to the instant conclusion that he had omitted to clear the instrument after the passing of the first part of the Scotch express. He had not entered the goods train in his register and had no recollection of it in his confused and exhausted state.
James at once gave "Line clear" from Avenue Junction and lowered his up line signals. After a minute or so, the goods train, which had been waiting in silence at the home signal for ten minutes, started off with a gentle chuff and a creaking of couplings. Meanwhile, the second part of the Scotch express, 13 coaches hauled by 2-4-0 No 178, went through Otterington at 55-60 mph on the dead straight, slightly falling gradient. James Holmes was now doubly confused. He heard the goods train starting and telephoned Harry Eden. “Is this the express passenger you
have asked?“ He said, and put the phone down. Eden was puzzled and went to his window, looking up the line towards Manor House. The sound of the crash came dully through the intervening mile and a quarter in spite of the fog.
The driver and fireman of No 178 were Roland Ewart and Edward Head. The train was a heavy one, and both locomotive and the fireman were taking a pounding as the driver did his best to keep time. At times, the fog was so thick that the driver was unable to see a signal until he was "on top of it"; at other times, such as when approaching Manor House distant signal, he saw it at a range of 50 yards. The fireman, stoking continuously on the small, overloaded engine , took no part in the signal business, placing his trust, indeed his life, in the steel nerves of Driver Ewart who took his train into an impenetrable wall of fog at 60 mph, trusting in the signalling. All this just to adhere to the timetable.
Driver Ewart saw the red triangle of lights on the rear of the goods train brake van at a range of 50 yards. He had no time to brake and the next thing he knew he was waking up, in mortal pain, on his back on the frost covered grass of a field 60 feet from the line-side. One thigh was smashed, his ribs broken. The conductor from the Pullman car „India„ found him and gave him some brandy, and together they watched as the first small, flickering flames grew to engulf the wreckage of the train. Fireman Head woke in the same field, utterly at a loss to know how he
got there. Physically uninjured, he staggered to his feet and set out to protect the rear of his train, but woke again in a farmhouse kitchen. He was taken to Northallerton hospital. Signalman James Holmes was so utterly devastated by what he had done that uninjured passengers coming to the signal box to see if there was space there for the wounded had to console him. One eye-witness said that if it had not been for the "sweet kindness" of one lady, he, the witness, firmly believed that Holmes would have lost his mind that night.
Ten people were killed, including George Petch, the guard of the goods train, and 39 were injured, trapped in the burning wreckage. Eight passenger carriages were destroyed, including the Pullman sleeping car „India„, and eight wagons from the goods train were lost. An inquest was held on the deceased and the jury's verdict was "culpable negligence" on the part of Holmes, "but we are convinced that if Holmes had been relieved when he so urgently appealed this would not have happened and the persons really responsible for the deaths are the Directors
of the North Eastern Railway". This verdict must be a classic case of „running with the hare and hunting with the hounds„ and although the "persons really responsible for the deaths were the Directors of the North Eastern Railway", it was James Holmes who stood trial for the manslaughter of George Petch.
There was a great deal of public sympathy for James, and while letters to The Times castigated the North Eastern Railway Directors, James and his family were recovering somewhat from the shocks they had suffered in the Sussex home of Henry Farmer-Atkinson, MP for Boston, who had invited them with their children. The trial was set for the 2nd of December 1892 at York Assizes. The judge was on the side of James Holmes - as far as he could make that plain - and warned the jury that „manslaughter„ is a very difficult thing to prove and every case has to be judged on its merits, but the essence was "causing the death of another by gross or culpable negligence, and Holmes had a great sorrow on him at the time and was not himself, he was distressed and tired".
Many searching questions were put to Station Master Kirby and to District Inspector Pick by the defense counsel.
“Why did you not give Holmes a companion in the box - a porter, say, from Otterington?”
“Why did you not switch the box out?”
“Why did you not realise the seriousness of Holmes condition after his protests at having to work?”
“Why were there no relief signalman to take his place in the box?”
In reply to the last question it was revealed that the North Eastern Railway considered that 17 relief men for over 300 signalmen was an entirely reasonable provision. The verdict of the jury was that James Holmes was guilty of the manslaughter of George Petch but added a very strong plea for mercy. The learned jidge, in passing sentence, said that this was the only verdict that could be brought. However, he evidently felt the mood of the time because he then said to Holmes. “I do not want to add to your troubles - you have suffered a great deal already. I bind you over for 12 months in the sum of £50 pounds”.
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