The Railways: Nation, Network and People

by Simon Bradley

That the great lairds would travel first class was not in any question. The same applied to dukes, earls, bishops, senior military officers and sundry other members of the carriage-owning classes. So it is interesting to note that Gladstone recorded two second-class journeys in his diary for 29 January 1850. There is little superfluous detail in this unchatty chronicle, and it may be that Gladstone chose to note the trips as exceptions to his usual habit. Perhaps it is significant that he was then an opposition MP, without a ministerial salary. There may even be a whiff of status anxiety about these déclassé journeys. That an element of self-policing entered into the system is suggested by a story told of the neo-medieval architect A. W. N. Pugin (1812–52), who liked to go about in a distinctly bohemian outfit comprising a sailor’s jacket, loose trousers, jackboots and broad-brimmed hat. Entering a first-class carriage after disembarking from the Calais crossing, he was challenged by a fellow passenger: ‘Halloa, my man, you have mistaken, I think, your carriage.’ ‘By Jove, I think you are right; I thought I was in the company of gentlemen.’ An apology followed; then, ‘The remainder of the journey was most agreeably passed in examining his portfolio filled with sketches just taken in Normandy.’ (A 1960s variation on the theme: a guard on the East Coast route recalled being summoned to eject some ‘yobboes’ from first class, who turned out to be Jimi Hendrix and his entourage...