A Victorian Railway Maxim
Zealously try to excel. Industry is commendable.
Perseverance deserves success.
Quietude of mind is a treasure.’
This was a GWR 19th century maxim for its workforce:
A world of gaslight, back to backs, the workhouse;
The engine shed, the ash pit; the night black platform,
The coal fire waiting room, the leather strap carriage window;
Signalmen clanking levers; tip-tapping the telegraph,
Filling in the forms in triplicate, polishing the brass,
Trimming the wicks, cleaning the grates,
And all for sixteen bob a week, on a sixteen-hour turn;
Pointsmen and fogmen, choking on the fumes,
Kindling the coke in the brazier in a pea-soup fog
Banging up the wagons to pilfer some coal,
While winter’s frost and a cold, clear moon
Light up the permanent way.
Then at five minutes past midnight,
The goods guard’s tail van leaves the marshalling yard –
(Hectic with wagon examiners,
Repairers and axle box greasers)
Its red tail lamp slowly disappears
Into the reverberating distance,
While he sits alone in his van,
In dark isolation,
Buffeted by shunting, points and engine brake,
Watching the night slowly tick away
In silent loop or siding,
Counting the pennies of overtime,
Hoping for passenger-promotion,
Lighting another Woodbine,
Staring at the moon.