The Right Royal

Having had all the pomp, circumstance and fanfare associated with a royal wedding over the last few days, I thought it was about time to add to this blog another discussion on a royal – a Royal Scot, in fact, as made by Hornby. Yes, it’s toy train review time again! I was lucky enough to see the real thing recently, when 46115 Scots Guardsman came into Aberdeen on its way to Inverness. Here is a record of that happy meeting:

However, that’s a photo of the real thing, and this is a review of a version 76 times smaller… To business!

Hornby Rebuilt Royal Scot ‘Royal Inniskilling Fusilier’ (R2728)

Originally designed and built in 1927 by Henry Fowler as a parallel-boilered design, the LMS ‘Royal Scot’ class was, until the introduction of the Princess Royal and Princess Coronation pacifics, that company’s crack express locomotive, the first to really escape the legacy of the Midland Railway’s notorious ‘small engine’ policy. William Stanier then redesigned the class with a tapered boiler and reconstruction started in 1943. These were, according to some, best regarded as ‘paper’ rebuilds, since the end result was so different from the original starting point that they could be better considered new engines. Earning a BR power classification of 7P, these were amongst the most powerful 4-6-0s in Britain, and were a regular sight on the West Coast Main Line until their eventual withdrawal in 1965. Two have been preserved: 46100 Royal Scot, which toured the North American continent in 1933; and 46115 Scots Guardsman, the star of the famous 1936 documentary ‘The Night Mail’.

Hornby’s model of Stanier’s rebuilt version of the class was brought out in 2007. It is locomotive driven, using Hornby’s standard 5-pole motor, and has pick-ups on the six driving wheels and six tender wheels. As we have come to expect of Hornby’s recent 4-6-0 releases, the front bogie is held in place with a central pin rather than the old style of swing arm, and there is no hint of plastic to be found in the running gear: all is made of fine cast metal pieces. The large driving wheels seem unusually well balanced – this chassis displays no hint of a wobble or any kind of mechanical weakness. One slight issue that should be pointed out – although it has no bearing on running quality – is that the front bogie has fractionally too little ‘play’ either laterally or vertically: this locomotive will not comfortably manoeuvre on to Hornby’s raised turntable, and nor will it sit perfectly on 2^nd radius curves, as the bogie has a tendency to twist the forward axle away from the inside rail of the curve. That said, it should be reiterated that this has no effect on running quality, and the locomotive will happily handle 2^nd radius curves (the minimum Hornby recommend) at speed. It is also worth noting that should you wish to run the model on these curves, the steam pipes under the cylinders will need to be trimmed back, as they are in the photographs that accompany this article.

Royal Inniskilling Fusilier demonstrating the front axle twisting on the curve of the track

So far Hornby have offered this locomotive in three liveries: early crest Brunswick green, late crest Brunswick green, and original LMS black (without smoke deflectors). Brunswick green variants, of both periods, have also been offered in weathered condition. As we have come to expect (if not outright demand), the liveries are perfectly applied. The cab area is superbly detailed too, with spectacle plates on the windows and opening roof vents, as well as a wealth of interior detail and nice representations of the pipework under the footplate. Up front, the chimney has been rectified – locomotives from Hornby’s first batch had a distinctly poor chimney – while the distinctive shape of the smoke deflectors has been well captured. Admittedly they suffer from being made of plastic (Bachmann’s unrebuilt Patriot features brass smoke deflectors, which look rather better) but there are aftermarket products available to those who care to alter such details.

Note the trimmed-back steam blast pipes

In terms of running quality, this engine has completely won me over. I bought mine because of familial connections with the regiment that is the locomotive’s namesake (my model is of 46120 Royal Inniskilling Fuslier). I didn’t buy it because I thought it handsome, or because my layout required it. However, it has proven such an excellent performer that I keep looking for excuses to run it. Of Hornby’s three primary LMS passenger locomotives it is far and away the best – its haulage power is far better than the Princess Royal, and neither the Princess nor Coronation can compare in terms of detailing (though both those locomotives do have the advantage of offering more livery options). It is worth noting at this point that, aside from minor detail differences, Hornby’s rebuilt Patriot is essentially the same as the rebuilt Royal Scot, and that this review is equally applicable to both classes.

There is a wide range of stock suitable for this model. Hornby’s Stanier coaches are the obvious companions, but so too are Hornby’s steel-sided Pullmans, Bachmann’s Mk1s and Mk2s (especially for the preserved Scots Guardsman, a model of which Hornby has announced for this year (2011)) and suitable mail or parcels stock. Hornby’s CCTs and Bachmann’s GUVs, parcels vans and full brakes can be assembled into a suitable rake which will look entirely at home thundering at speed around your layout.

I must finish by concluding that of Hornby’s three LMS main passenger types the Royal Scot is best both in terms of appearance and performance. It stands comparison with Hornby’s recent 4-6-0s, too: with a better chassis than the Black 5, and more pulling power than the King Arthur, it deserves consideration as being amongst the very best that Hornby has to offer.

Overall Rating: 9.5/10

How to… Model Grassy Lanes and Allotments

After the rant that comprised the last post, I thought a good way to regain equilibrium would be to return once again to that most calming of topics, Model Railway Construction. And as you will have gathered from the title, today I’m going to offer a tutorial on some scenic work – namely, how to make an overgrown grassy lane and allotments.

This is the area to be given scenic treatment: the strip of bare chipboard next to the sidings in the foreground of the picture.

The chipboard in the foregorund is what we'll be dealing with today.

The first thing to do is the overgrown lane that will run the length of the siding. To that end, you will need a long straight ruler, a screwdriver, a modeller’s knife, glue (I’m a big fan of Copydex) and some grass mat.

Roll of Gaugemaster grass mat that we will use

First cut the grass mat roughly to shape – in this case, a number of strips to cover the length of the siding – and glue in position, hard against the ballast of the siding. The walling, a Javis product, will be glued on top.

The grass glued hard up to the siding

Then glue down the walling. The walling, as you will have noticed, already comes with grass disguising the base of the moulding: we will improve this further a couple of steps down the line.

The walls glued in place.

As you can see in the above photograph, I have rolled a model truck along the grass to create to subtle tyre-tracks. I will use these as a guide for creating more definitive ruts. To do so, I use the screwdriver and ‘chisel’ along the length of the mat. Do so carefully, as you don’t want to go through the mat – you’re just trying to scrape the grass fibres off it.

The grass mat, now cut to shape, has the ruts scraped into it with a cheap screwdriver. Note the scraped grass at the end of the lane: we will recycle this shortly.

The next step is to border the lane on the opposite side to the walling. In this instance I used Hornby Lineside Fencing superglued in place. Also at this point I used the scraped-off grass to disguise joins between walling sections and any of the resin still showing at the bottom of the wall.

A Morris Minor makes the first journey down the lane. Note the grass growing up the wall in the background.

With the grassy lane mostly finished it is time to turn our attention to the other side of the fence. There are three buildings to complement the scene, all manufactured by Hornby as part of their Skaledale resin range: a garage, a greenhouse and a garden shed. These will be used as mini ‘scenic breaks’ so as not to have all the allotment plots side-by-side.

First we make the allotments. To do so I measured and cut a Noch Ploughed Field to shape, and then made borders for each plot from Costa coffee stirrers. Then I put the buildings in place. Once that was done, I sprinkled Peco scatter over the remaining exposed baseboard.

The first allotment lies between the garage and greenhouse.

That being done, it was time to add greenery. Lichen, trees, scatter, flowers, long grass and fine-leaf foliage were all added to the ground to make a more vegetative scene. Gardening figures came from Preiser and Noch; gardening implements from Woodland Scenics. The greenhouse had an internal structure fabricated from foamboard and mounting board; flowers were added.

The greenhouse, with flowers, long grass, and fine-leaf foliage all in evidence.

That being done, all that is left to add are vegetables for the allotments. This is an ongoing project, so it is not yet completed, but there are plenty of fruits, vegetables, and greens that will sprout in due course…

The cabbages are early-bloomers

The Rustle of Letters in the Dark…

In 1936 the GPO (General Post Office) film unit made a 25 minute documentary about one of the LMS Mail trains on its overnight run from London to Glasgow. The film is famous now not simply for the quality of its cinematography (which is genuinely superb) but for its closing sequence, in which the score, commissioned of Benjamin Britten, is overlaid with the poem written for the film by W.H. Auden. The poem now is well known: it is called ‘Night Mail’.

The first electric trainset I ever received was also called ‘Night Mail’, and it featured a short rake of three coaches, including one TPO (Travelling Post Office), hauled by a Stanier Duchess. Now, many years later, the Duchess has gone the way of all flesh – but I still have the coaches, and indeed I have added to the rake to make a much more realistic depiction of a mail train. The locomotive in the film is a Royal Scot; before Christmas, I bought a model of one, and that has allowed me to produce this: Starlingford’s Night Mail.

Night Mail

This is the Night Mail crossing the border,
Bringing the cheque and the postal order,
Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,
The shop at the corner and the girl next door.
Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient’s against her, but she’s on time.

Thro’ sparse counties she rampages,
Her driver’s eye upon the gauges.
Panting up past lonely farms
Fed by the fireman’s restless arms.
Striding forward along the rails
Thro’ southern uplands with northern mails.

Winding up the valley to the watershed,
Thro’ the heather and the weather and the dawn overhead.
Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder
Shovelling white steam over her shoulder,
Snorting noisily as she passes
Silent miles of wind-bent grasses.

Birds turn their heads as she approaches,
Stare from the bushes at her blank-faced coaches.
Sheepdogs cannot turn her course;
They slumber on with paws across.
In the farm she passes no one wakes,
But a jug in the bedroom gently shakes.

Dawn freshens, the climb is done.
Down towards Glasgow she descends
Towards the steam tugs yelping down the glade of cranes,
Towards the fields of apparatus, the furnaces
Set on the dark plain like gigantic chessmen.
All Scotland waits for her:
In the dark glens, beside the pale-green sea lochs
Men long for news.

Letters of thanks, letters from banks,
Letters of joy from the girl and the boy,
Receipted bills and invitations
To inspect new stock or visit relations,
And applications for situations
And timid lovers’ declarations
And gossip, gossip from all the nations,
News circumstantial, news financial,
Letters with holiday snaps to enlarge in,
Letters with faces scrawled in the margin,
Letters from uncles, cousins, and aunts,
Letters to Scotland from the South of France,
Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands
Notes from overseas to Hebrides
Written on paper of every hue,
The pink, the violet, the white and the blue,
The chatty, the catty, the boring, adoring,
The cold and official and the heart’s outpouring,
Clever, stupid, short and long,
The typed and the printed and the spelt all wrong.

Thousands are still asleep
Dreaming of terrifying monsters,
Or of friendly tea beside the band at Cranston’s or Crawford’s:
Asleep in working Glasgow, asleep in well-set Edinburgh,
Asleep in granite Aberdeen,
They continue their dreams,
And shall wake soon and long for letters,
And none will hear the postman’s knock
Without a quickening of the heart,
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?

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Re: Starlingford – Poetry Train number two

by Black-Marlin on Tue Jan 05, 2010 3:41 am

MacNeice’s great friend was, as you recall, W.H.Auden. Although there have been other notable poets who have written about trains and railway travel (Betjeman springs to mind, as does -inevitably! – Muldoon), Auden is perhaps the one who captures the rhythms of the railway best, in the incomparable ‘Night Mail’. Auden’s poem was commissioned by the BBC for their documentary ‘Night Mail’, which featured a travelling post office hauled by a Royal Scot -class locomotive.

Here is my homage.

Night Mail

This is the Night Mail crossing the border,
Bringing the cheque and the postal order,
Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,
The shop at the corner and the girl next door.
Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient’s against her, but she’s on time.

Thro’ sparse counties she rampages,
Her driver’s eye upon the gauges.
Panting up past lonely farms
Fed by the fireman’s restless arms.
Striding forward along the rails
Thro’ southern uplands with northern mails.

Back in Black 5

Now that it is December, we have entered Christmas-shopping-in-earnest season. Bah Humbug, et cetera, but, partly because it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these, and partly because it might be useful round about now, here is a review of one of Hornby’s best-sellers, the Black 5…

Hornby Stanier Standard 5MT (R2449)

William Stanier introduced his Standard 5 Mixed Traffic locomotive, better known as the ‘Black 5’, in 1934 as a general purpose engine. Nearly 850 were built, and they survived until the end of steam, with four participating in the famous ‘15 Guinea Special’, the last scheduled mainline steam train to run in Britain.  They were highly regarded by their crews, and their enduring popularity resulted in 18 being preserved.

Hornby’s model has been out now for a few years in its new, extensively retooled guise. It was one of the first in the range to be modernised – a reflection on its enduring popularity. Mine is Hornby R2449 ‘The Glasgow Highlander’ in BR late black, and it has electrical pick-ups on all wheels, resulting in very smooth running. The now-standard 5-pole motor mechanism housed in the locomotive body replaces the old ‘tender/Ringfield’ combination. The new motor in the new chassis has equally new gearing, and this is where my major criticism of the model must be made. Of course the tender/Ringfield combination usually coupled a ludicrous top speed to a truly horrendous haulage capacity, which is why Hornby has gone to such pains in the last decade to change it. However, while the new Black 5 is much heavier than previous incarnations of the model, thus improving its haulage capabilities enormously, it seems slow – and not merely in comparison to older versions. It is slow compared to Hornby’s N15 and Royal Scot – both of which are retooled 5-pole-motored 4-6-0s.

The Black 5s were, as their nickname implies, turned out only in black, and Hornby’s different examples have only really differed inasmuch as they are either LMS black, BR Early Crest black, or BR Late Crest black. As we have come to expect, printing, painting and lettering are all exemplary, with some now available in factory-weathered condition as well. The one notable visual difference is the presence or absence of a nameplate, and Hornby have made models of these locomotives too – although since only 5 were named, of a class comprising 842 members, these engines were the exception rather than the rule.

Yet bizarrely this is where the real strength of the locomotive lies. They were handsome engines, found – in BR days – all over the rail network, and yet somehow anonymous – which means that Hornby can change nothing but the running numbers every year and not run out of specific locomotives for a very long time. And modellers can reproduce, in prototypical form, double-headed trains. These engines frequently worked coupled together, and Hornby’s use of optional slim-profile couplings in standard NEM pockets makes reproducing this type of train formation simplicity itself. The use of two engines together also compensates for the aforementioned slow running properties, for two reasons: firstly, double-headed trains tended to be heavy and therefore wouldn’t have run that fast anyway; and secondly the beautifully reproduced motion of the wheels, pistons and coupling rods can only really be appreciated at slower speeds anyway.

This is, as certain larger officials of the rail network might have noted, a Really Useful Engine for the modeller. Its MT designation means it is equally at home on mineral trains, mixed goods, tanker trains, suburban services, expresses and even Pullman trains. Suitable coaching stock is available from Hornby (the Stanier coaches and Pullmans) and Bachmann (their Mk1s suit the BR engines, whether crimson and cream for the early crest models or maroon for the later ones). Lima Midland/LMS stock such as their bogie parcels van is also suitable and is readily available on the second-hand market.

Ultimately this model is well worth purchasing. Concerns about speed aside, it is mechanically very sound, and will run happily for hours on end without signs of difficulty. It can find a useful home on many layouts, and for those of you fortunate enough to be able to afford two it is an excellent model for double-heading. I have no hesitation in recommending it.

Overall Rating: 8/10

A Pointed History

I’m no anthropologist, but it must surely be significant that in no language or culture on Earth does the phrase “As safe as a sharp thing” appear. Today, for the third time in my life, I’ve managed to do myself a noteworthy injury with a knife.

The first time it happened I must have been about ten or eleven, and suffused with that innocent spirit of scientific investigation that so often leads to significant personal injury, legal and financial liability, and wanton destruction of property. The question at the forefront of my mind on this occasion was: “What does the inside of a chewing-gum-filled gobstopper look like before you’ve sucked away the hard outer shell?” To find out, I took the gobstopper and set it in the palm of my hand. Then, in my other hand, I took my Swiss Army Knife. I opened out the main blade and, with ever-increasing force, dug it into the gobstopper. Unfortunately, chewing-gum being significantly less dense than the shell, and a concave surface less resistant than a convex one, the practical upshot of my investigation was not merely that I drove the knife through the sweet but also clean through my hand.

I don’t remember it being particularly painful until I actually looked at my hand and saw what appeared to be a white worm awash with blood in the middle of the wound. Horrified, and not knowing how a tendon was meant to look, I tugged on it. Now that was sore.

Alex Burton, trapped at last, while Opa stands by with a fire extinguisher and Jaako pokes him with a stick

The second time my experience with knives all went wrong was when I was in first year in Uni. The year before I had been working on the OM ship MV Logos II in Latin America, and when in Mexico I had bought, for what was only the equivalent of about £15, an excellent knife manufactured by Diablo. You can see it in the picture to the left: it is what is holding my friend Alex’s headband affixed to the ceiling (oh, the merry japes of the Aft Meeting Room crowd during drydock and refit! We weren’t hard up for entertainment, as you can tell). I am fairly scrupulous about keeping my knives sharp (a blunt knife being, as far as I’m concerned, something of a contradiction in terms) and my Diablo had, and still has, an edge you can shave with.

I know this to be true because I have done so. When I first came to Uni and St Columba’s I discovered one Sunday morning that not only had my electric razor broken but all my disposable ones were blunt. I had a cunning idea, and, like Baldrick’s, mine too turned out to be total pigswill. I took my knife in hand and shaved. All was going extremely well until, still not entirely awake, I yawned hugely and opened a correspondingly huge gash from my ear all the way down to my jaw.

The blood had mostly stopped flowing by the time I finished my 45-minute walk to church, where I arrived early for the music group practice. My appearance was sufficient to silence the band. “What on Earth happened to you?” Louis asked. “Oh,” I said, affecting a nonchalance I didn’t entirely feel, “Some idiot tried to get clever with a knife.” Looking into the shocked faces I confessed that the idiot in question was me, thus confirming a number of long-held prejudices about drummers in general, but the pain had mostly gone by that stage and I felt able to laugh about it. When the wound healed it did so cleanly, and now there is no scar to tell you what happened.

Sadly, I don’t think there will be any corresponding clean healing today, despite the precision with which I appear to have injured myself. Cutting an Italeri model soldier from his sprue, the scalpel blade rotated through 90 degrees in the handle, slipped off the sprue and plunged with clear homicidal intent into the tip of my thumb, which it proceeded to slice neatly in two. The knife was extremely sharp, and so the injury is surgically neat, painless, and took but a few minutes to bind together with steri-strips and surgical tape – although I am still mortified at the thought that I might just have got my ass kicked by a soldier seventy-two times smaller than me.

And now I have to get ready for DRIVE, a youth club at church where I am one of the leaders. I don’t know what the plan is for tonight or the coming weeks – that’s Tom‘s responsibility – but my recommendation is that I be put in charge of Health and Safety.

I think I have many lessons I can impart.

Here it is: your moment of Zen:

1:72-scale Paratroopers on Starlingford, where they honed their modelmaker-disabling skills...

Breaking out the Bells and Whistles

Hello all!

After a flying visit home to Northern Ireland (“Psychosis with a flag on top”), I have put together a video of the most recent improvements and additions to the Starlingford layout. Enjoy!

It’s a small, perfect world

As most if not all of you will know, I participate in a fairly regular and active manner to an online forum, New Railway Modellers.One of the topics for recent discussion began with a very simple question: “Why do you do it?”

It’s a good question. And, Dear Readers, it ought to come as no surprise at all that not only do I have an answer specific to me, I have a theory to explain the general interest in model railways. But let’s start with the sureties, shall we?

When I was very small, but not so small as to be insensible to what was going on around me or to be unable to remember it, I became completely enthralled with the adventures of a small blue steam engine. Thomas the Tank Engine was on ITV and very little since has provoked in me the same anticipation as waiting for it to come on. My mother liked it too: my obsession gave her a rest, because I was a handful even then; as a music teacher, she thought the theme tune excellent (and she was inordinately proud that I could sing it, tricky modulations and all); and she always seemed privately amused at the identity of the narrator (it was years before I learned that Ringo Starr had been even more famous for something else entirely).

Thomas the Presbyterian Engine passes St. Columba's proposed new building

And then, for Christmas, I was given a clockwork Thomas the Tank Engine trainset, and nothing in my short life had ever been quite so amazing as this. Even my little sister was a whole lot less interesting than the plastic Thomas, and she stood no chance at all in competing for my attention when Thomas was joined by Percy. My father nailed a loop of track with a passing loop to a piece of hardboard, and there it was: my first model railway. It lived behind the sofa when not in use, but it could be taken out and laid on the living room carpet, where it would would entertain me for hours on end. Eventually it had to go, sometime after I had taken it outside and played with it on the driveway and then, not being the world’s most co-ordinated soul, I tripped over it and gave myself a proper, full-on concussion.

A few years later, my father judging me old enough for such things, I was given two proper, electric trainsets (for Christmas and my birthday) consisting of ‘The Night Mail’ and ‘The Intercity 225′. The mail train was a Stanier Duchess in BR Maroon; the 225 was a Class 91 in Swallow livery. I liked both, but preferred the Duchess: steam engines were my thing.

This twin-loop layout lived in the loft, on an 8′ x 4′ table, and I had it until I was nine, when we moved house. Naturally the trains came too; it was only the table that was left behind. A new house meant a new attic, and a bigger house meant a correspondingly bigger layout. This one was, again, a twin-loop design (though one of the loops was raised) but it was on a 10′ x 5′ tabletop. The table surface in question was made of unsupported chipboard, and by the time my parents moved house again the table, in profile, looked like the letter ‘M’. By the end, ‘Wyndham’ (named for my favourite author of Science Fiction) was bugging me: it didn’t work properly, the track was tired, and the scenic stuff just didn’t measure up to the standards I was setting myself based on voracious model railway magazine reading.

The new house required a lot of work done on it, and since the joiner was already hanging about the place, my dad suggested, why didn’t he make a proper table? Again, in the attic; again, for twin loops; again, made out of chipboard – but this time it would be properly supported, and this time the middle area would be open to stand in. And oh yes – this would be a properly large layout. 10′ x 16′ large, to be precise. This is the layout called ‘Starlingford’, and it’s what I’ve been working on when I’m home.

I keep working on it because I love it, which strikes me as about the best reason to do anything.

I like model railways because they offer me a way to create something aesthetically pleasing (writing novels, as I do, also offers me something of this, but in a very different way: the aesthetic satisfaction of writing a novel comes of telling the story one would like to hear; of constructing a narrative that one finds satisfying). I like model railways because mine is something over which I have total and absolute control (pocket despotism, if you like!). I like model railways because they are a way to construct a world where the social problems we all face on a daily basis do not exist – there’s a reason so many layouts are nostalgic idealisations of a time when the pace of life was slower and it always seemed to be summer, lazy and serene. I like model railways because the smell of a model locomotive hammering round at full pelt reminds me of being small and happy. I like model railways because they remind me of the first time I enjoyed a pleasure that was uniquely mine: I was the Thomas fan in my house, and by the same token, learning to read (my mum taught me to read the Thomas stories before I went to school) by myself was another solitary pleasure. I like model railways because they remind me of the love my parents showed me in trying to get me the Christmas and Birthday presents they knew I really wanted and would really enjoy. I like model railways because today they are an entirely inoffensive means of escape. I like model railways because they give everyone who operates or even observes one a passport to imagine. I like model railways because they are a pure pleasure, and even the frustrations and tribulations they inflict upon me are, in their own way, pleasurable.

One of the interesting things, I think, about modelling in general and model railways in particular is the issue of control. There is a particular satisfaction, however ‘sad’, involved with getting something absolutely right, which is why I don’t have any particular problem with the rivet-counters over on RivetManiacWeb. But since the forum to which I belong generally adheres to ‘rule one’ (‘never fight mysterious old oriental men’…err, no, sorry: ‘it’s my railway and I’ll do what I want’) the desire for control manifests itself differently. It does so, I think, in rule one itself. To control stock, to control timetables, to run what one finds interesting or appealing without thought for other people’s opinions – that is very relaxing, particularly in a culture where so much of our daily existence consists of attempting to please others: colleagues, managers, spouses, children. It also explains why, just as there is a fairly united front when it comes to rule one, there is equally a fairly united front when it comes to making scenery as realistic as possible. To run what you like in a realistic setting is a defiance of sorts: it is an expression of control, of stamping one’s individuality (the trains you choose to run) on a world that otherwise wouldn’t care. Furthermore, the railways on the NRM forum tend to be of fictional locations, for exactly the same reason: when one designs a station, one controls the rules regarding its operation.

I like model railways, and so do many other people. Thomas the Tank Engine made me, as a five-year-old, inexhaustibly happy, and I see no good reason not to try to regain some measure of that happiness if I can.

Long live model railways!

GWR Mogul 43xx on a short train of antique coaches, seen over the wall at Perdido Street Station

The Elementary Holmes

Time for another locomotive review, this time of a bottom-of-the-range model: the humble Hornby J83.

Hornby Holmes J83 (R2164U)

The Holmes-designed J83 was delivered to the North British Railway in 1901 and all forty of the class entered LNER service, with thirty-nine making it to British Rail ownership before the last of the class was withdrawn in 1962. The class was famously hard-working, with only three locomotives failing to manage a million miles and one, No. 9830, amassing two million.

Given the impressive nature of the prototype, it is disappointing to be so underwhelmed by the model. I will, as a result, be awarding this model 3/10 – it is even less accurate a model than the 4/10-awarded ‘Smokey Joe’ pug. However, there is an excellent reason why it is not 0/10, and I will explain it shortly.

But first, the detractions. This model bears a passing resemblance to the prototype, but there is little if anything that has been accurately reproduced. It is too tall and the wheels are too large. This is because it uses Hornby’s standard 0-6-0 pannier tank chassis (albeit without traction tyres), with all its attendant problems – poor electrical pick-up, tendency to stall at low speeds, bizarre gearing giving a hell-for-leather top speed (I know of someone who has a J83 that will go faster than his HST!), and difficulty traversing insulfrog points. This last criticism is particularly pointed, as in real life this locomotive served as a shunter, and one would presumably use the model for this purpose on one’s layout.

The livery is basic to the point where I wonder if it is painted at all – it certainly has the look of pre-coloured plastic. Having said that, the lining out of the side panels is done to Hornby’s usual high standard. This example is weathered, which also serves to disguise some of the grosser flaws with the chassis detailing (or lack thereof).

The bodywork detailing is minimal to non-existent. There are no fitted wire handrails, representations instead being moulded in the plastic bodyshell (reminiscent of some of the worst aspects of Hornby Triang models, I’m afraid), and there is neither detailing in the cab nor glass in the crude cab windows. Couplings are of the large Lima ‘D-ring’ type, and the buffers are not sprung, although the rivet-work on the buffer-beam seems well done. Finally, the RRP on one of these is laughably optimistic. No one in their right mind would spend £45 on one.

Having said all of that, I shall now explain why this model is awarded 3 marks. It earns them for being absolutely brilliant at one thing. This is the perfect model for children who feel themselves too old for Thomas the Tank Engine (at, say, 8 years old) and who want something more like a ‘grown-up train’. There is virtually nothing on the body of this locomotive that will get broken off by impatient little hands, and the warp-factor top speed gives the model quite a lot of play value. It is available as part of the ‘Old Smokey’ trainset, where it comes with two antiquated LNER clerestory coaches, manufactured with equally antediluvian tooling. Again, the play value of the set is high, even if its historical accuracy leaves a lot to be desired.

As I said, no one with even a modicum of sense would buy one for the same price as a Bachmann pannier tank or prairie, but they frequently crop up online separated from the ‘Old Smokey’ set at about £20 each (and with the reference number R2164U). This, I submit, is a far more reasonable price for a locomotive of ‘Railroad’ quality – although even the Railroad Jinty has fitted wire handrails. This is a model to be played with, and even with its many fearsome imperfections mine looks well enough as it rattles happily round my mainline with ten or so coal wagons.
Overall Rating: 3/10

Zen in Perdido Street Station

The Dog’s Danglies

…And back to Hornby again, this time to look at something a bit more recently released.

Hornby Drummond T9 ‘Greyhound’ (R2690)

Introduced in 1899, Dugald Drummond’s T9 was designed for express passenger work on the LSWR lines in the South-West of England. The inside-cylinder 4-4-0 was an immediate success, living up to the confidence that had had 50 ordered straight from the drawing board without waiting for testing.

Happily, Hornby’s model also lives up to the hype surrounding it. Seemingly the most anticipated model of 2008, the Hornby T9 finally appeared at the end of the year, with the last model of the 2008 catalogue appearing at the end of the first quarter of 2009. It continues Hornby’s attempts to cater for the Southern Railway / Southern Region market, and it is an exceptional model.

This version (R2690) was produced in association with the National Railway Museum, as No. 120 is preserved as part of the National Collection. Although it is not in steaming condition at the moment, the model nevertheless depicts it in its current guise of SR olive green.

Hornby’s olive green is rich and is perfectly applied, as is the lettering and the lining. One nice touch is the representation of the red-painted inside cylinders, just visible under the boiler. As far as I know this is the only such feature visible on any RTR locomotive. The cab is almost unbelievably detailed, with gauges legible under a glass. The boiler is metal, rather than plastic, as Hornby had to concentrate as much weight as possible in the locomotive. This slim 4-4-0 is locomotive-driven – an astonishing achievement, of which Hornby should be rightly proud: 4-4-0 models, just like the real thing, are notoriously difficult to balance properly. Nevertheless, the T9 model contains a powerful and responsive 5-pole motor, realistically geared. The model also boasts phenomenal haulage power, due to Hornby’s decision to add traction tyres to the leading driving wheels. This decision was apparently made at a late stage in the design process, and seems to have been responsible for the model’s delay in appearing in shops. The tyre itself is not obvious, and according to some reports gives the T9 a phenomenal haulage capacity – 25 coaches, far more than the prototype ever had to deal with.

The addition of a traction tyre electrically isolates the wheel on which it is fitted, but the T9, as is standard Hornby practice, has electrical pick-ups fitted to the tender. However, unlike standard Hornby practice, the power is transferred through a small ‘plug’ as is sometimes found in computing and electronic devices. This is because, due to the minimal space within the locomotive body, the chip for DCC operations is fitted within the tender. All T9 models, incidentally, are DCC ready, with a DCC-fitted version of each model available. The plug is difficult to fit in, and the tender drawbar seems flimsy – although it offers adjustable coupling lengths, it also seems as though a single knock could break it entirely. In fact the model is covered with easily-broken detailing parts, and while Hornby is to be commended for their attention to detail the owner of the model needs to be careful when handling it. Couplings are of the slim tension-lock type in NEM pockets front and rear, although for modellers not intending to run their T9s tender-first there are a mass of detailing parts provided for the front buffer beam.

The tender is an excellent model in its own right, with both a 6-wheel and an 8-wheel watercart version available. The 8-wheel variant is particularly attractive, with the delicate spoked wheels on full display unobscured by the frames. Thus far, however, the NRM locomotive is the only one to feature the watercart in olive green. The locomotives, under BR ownership, were painted black. Unusually some of them ran with no logo visible at all, and these locomotives have been represented in Hornby’s range as well.

The T9 is beautiful model of a truly old-fashioned engine, a design both elegant and belonging to another age. As well as adding character to any Southern layout, it makes a refreshing change from the large number of pacifics and standards now on the market. But for the traction tyre and tender coupling design, this model would have received perfect marks.
Overall Rating: 9/10

Prize-winning Zen:

The winning picture: The S&S-bought T9 (the locomotive on the suspension bridge) pulls a local train as the White Pullman rushes past on the viaduct.

As Ugly as Sin but as Useful as Grace

A further locomotive review, this time of a humble workhorse…

Bachmann Gresley J39 (31-854)

Nigel Gresley designed the J39 in 1925, with the first entering service with the LNER in 1926. It rapidly became the Group Standard 0-6-0 goods locomotive and eventually 289 were built, making it the single most numerous of all Gresley’s designs. They proved competent on all the traffic they handled, which ranged from short pick-up goods to heavy coal trains to express passenger services in the summer excursion season. All were withdrawn between 1959 – 1962, with none finding their way into preservation.

Although they might be called handsome by a good-natured liar in the dark, it is fair to say that these engines’ charm did not rely on their beauty. Rather, they are a supremely functional design, and the relatively heavy weathering done by Bachmann on this version highlights the hard-working nature of the prototype.

The Bachmann model is one of their older offerings, as it still has a split-frame chassis. While this adds considerable weight to the locomotive, it makes conversion very difficult for those operating DCC systems. It is definitely not DCC ready. Performance-wise, the model reflects the competence of the prototype, having no difficulty on my layout with 20+ loaded coal wagons up a slight grade. Controllability is good, with the motor responding sensitively to input from my Gaugemaster controller, although it suffers from the traditional Bachmann defect of having no electrical pick-ups in the tender. The model thus has an electrical footprint similar in size to Bachmann’s GWR pannier tank.

This particular model of 64960 comes with slim couplings and in BR unlined black, with the large early ‘cycling lion’ logo apparent under a layer of dirt on the 4200 gallon tender. The livery is well applied, with the weathering particularly effective: it is, as I said, relatively heavy by RTR standards (although specialist weathering services such as that offered by TMC would no doubt consider it no more than ‘medium’ weathering.) As such it is ideal for those modelling a realistic early BR scene, and the model’s versatility as both a passenger and a goods engine ensures that there are plenty of layouts on which one or more will find a home.

Overall Rating: 8/10

Even Zen can become tainted and polluted by the world: