Lessons From Silver Studio in Valuing Wrightscale 16mm

 

No apologies for looking at parallels with an eminent Silver Studio artist as we ramble on about valuing your Wrightscale models

Wrightscale 15mm Excelsior models

You like good pictures and it is interesting to consider the question: what constitutes a lifestyle asset.

Malcolm has inherited the copyright for  Frank Price, the last Chief Designer of Silver Studio and so we can illustrate our thougts with piuctures from another art form. Our readers like original illustrations, so here we go!

Previously, I observed that a degree of scarcity increased the value of a Wrightscale model. They are not produced in the volume that, say, the fine plastic goods purveyed by LGB have achieved. Now, this blog post goes on to argue the opposite. The fact that there are other models out there actually increases the value of yours.

An artist needs to put the work out there, for the benefit of previous customers as well as to increase future sales. Silver Studio is a case in point. As Philip Hook remarks, the most over-worked word in the vocabularies of dealers etc and here I would include fashionable merchants of fabric and wallpaper, is ‘iconic’. Thus for example, we have the Liberty print. The same dense, floral fabric patterns crop up from decade to decade and are still to be found in catalogues today.

Design by Frank Price of Silver Studio. The original is 8 by 8 cm, that is at the stage where he would begin discussions with the client in this case possibly Liberty. Illustration courtesy MD Wright  

The underlying assumption is that the arts are good insofar as they are ‘typical’ or ‘recognisable’. A woman will pay a 10% premium for a blouse in a print which has her friends cooing ‘Ah! I so love Liberty!’ The pleasure goes both ways. The purchaser feels that the premium price was worth it. The friend feels pleasure in having spotted the iconic design. On the strength of their shared joy, they will indulge in another skinny cappuccino together.

Liberty owes many of its hallmark prints to the artists of the Silver Studio, especially to Frank Price.

Frank Price also produced chintzes, often inspired by older patterns. He gave them an edge, however, for example, updating an old Harry Napper birdie design.

 Harry Napper was a highly respected Silver Studio designer 1896-1906. The brief for Price was to give it a modern edge. He did so by creating a design in three planes. One plane very cleverly seems to reach towards the viewer. The bird comes out to meet the observer. The supporting foliage is indicated on the second plane. Behind yet again are shadows.

As well as homage to Harry Napper, Frank has extracted the visual language of Japan, the use of shadows to underline reality. Silver Studio designs regularly borrowed from Japan and so, just as in the case of the Liberty fabric. The observer says ‘Aha!’

Design by Frank Price for the Silver Studio SD16879. Reproduced courtesy of MODA, Middlesex University

Unfortunately for Silver Studio and Frank Price, their names were not recongnised until too late, after the Studio closed.

There is iconic art and iconic Wrightscale. Malcolm’s Unique Selling Point is Live Steam in 1/19 scale, running on 32mm track. This already demanding characteristic is combined with accuracy, or, more correctly, fidelity to a prototype. These qualities were not chosen in an arbitrary way.

A model at this scale on that track is one that runs on real-life 2’ or 60cm gauge. This gauge was originally rather obscure, used by the very trail-blazing Festiniog (Ffestiniog) railway. The history and personalities appealed to him. Then the gauge ‘jumped’ to France. Narrow gauge innovators such as Decauville specialised in 40 and 50cm until a Captain in the French Army, Prosper Péchot, proved the worth of 60cm. The Army reluctantly adopted his ideas; the German Army copied him enthusiastically and soon the gauge was widely used. Again, this is quite a powerful story, moving from military exercises to the trenches of the First World War. After the French and Germans adopted the gauge, forestry railways and public carriers in Britain began to adopt it as well. Behind the ‘icon’ there is a genuine artistic voice.

Wrightscale 16mm'Excelsior' in 0-4-0 configuration as used on the Kerry Forest Tramway

This USP is unattractive to other model-makers. If they want accuracy, they go electric. If they want ‘Live Steam’, they go freelance. Wrightscale models have been pirated and reverse engineered, but the connoisseur can easily tell the difference. There are parallels with work fromn SIlver Studio. At the bottom of the Frank Price design can be seen ten coloured rectangles. Each on is a colour which has to be separatelyprinted on to the surface of the fabric. This requires 1000% more labour, much more skill and great possibilities for wastage.

You will observe the essential paradox in Malcolm’s art. There is a similar paradox found in Silver Studio. Both had chosen a USP which is tricky and 'uncommercial'. This tends to make them scarce. At the same time, there are/were enough examples out there to create a market.Even more importantly, there are enough people with the good taste to appreciate rare quality when they see it. For good quality 16mm scale, the possible market is between five and ten thousand, judging from the membership of the 16mm Association and the attendance at the AGM. Of course only a fraction would be possible purchasers. Under a thousand Wrightscale locomotives have ever been produced.

Wrightscale 16mm model of 'Excelsior' in 0-4-2 configuration,as used until it was scrapped

More would-be buyers than sellers? You have a rising market. Prices will go up. 

If you are interested

Philip Hook Breakfast At Sotheby’s is a shrewd and humorous look at making money on the art market. It is well written. You can see that he even insists on an apostrophe in his title. Not many authors go for this level of detail.

For the full story of Festiniog to First World War by way of the French Army, read Colonel Péchot: Tracks To The Trenches

For more about the Silver Studio, look at the online archive of the Museum of Domestic Art and Architecture at www.moda.mdx.ac.uk

For more about Frank Price, read Frank Price: Golden Hand Of The Silver Studio

 

 

How to value a Wrightscale 16mm model

Silver Studio and 16mm; art has a link with money, so please read on!

Before going any further, we wish you all a happy new year. 

Silver Studio ran from 1880 to 1965 in London. At first it produced 'everything for a well-furnished home' but it was always best known for fabrics and wall-paper. Its products are recognised as artworks, protected by international copyright law. Wrightscale too is a studio, recognised as such by the Federal Law of the USA and its products are artworks.

A Wrightscale 16mm Baldwin Gas Mechanical locomotive, finished in Field Grey

Silver Studio was dissolved in 1967 but many of its designs can still be purchased. Much work is now in the archives of Liberty, Sanderson, Warner and many celebrated fashion houses whose products are famous and pricey. The remaining intellectual property and unsold artworks were donated to Hornsea College of Art, London by Rex Silver’s heir. Hornsea College merged with others to form Middlesex Polytechnic and this in turn became Middlesex University. The archive became part of the Museum of Domestic Art and Architecture and still feeds into modern domestic design. To consult it go to www.moda.mdx.ac.uk

Art clearly means money. Wrightscale products claim to be art for various reasons.

They represent a degree of uniqueness. An oil painting stands alone, as does a single sculpture. When several bronze castings are made of a statue,these don't cease to be art. Just look at the auction prices!  The same applies to woodcuts, fabric designs or the text of novels. They  are protected, as are Wrightscale models. They represent a degree of art. They represent a vision of the world that has been made tangible. A ‘mute inglorious Milton’ isn’t an artist. No matter how wonderful the vision, if it has not some shareable reality, it’s not art. 

This design comes from the Silver Studio Archive at MoDA - our thanks for allowing this to be reproduced. It is a sketch by Frank Price, the last Chief Designer. Though just a sketch, it has excited interest eg from Pinterest. Reproduction rights are expensive

The world is full of tangible objects that do not qualify as art – coal, a loaf of bread. Many beautiful things, such as a view or a fascinating fossil aren’t art.

Both Silver Studio and Wrightscale products don’t fit quite squarely into the Fine Art category. From around 1900 to the time of its closure, Silver Studio designs were aimed to be copied for use around the world.  Wrightscale models are prized for being consistent and yet also supply is limited by how many Malcolm can make.

The models, the fabrics and wall-paper are all designed to ‘do something’.The creator knows where he/she is going. Extremophile critics would claim that their very usefulness disqualifies them. Because they have an end, they are not the exploration that an honest-to-goodness-useless oblong of canvas or ‘art bronze’ can represent. To them, the true artist is Paul Klee taking a line for a walk.

A 16mm model, just like fabric or wall-paper is designed to fulfil to fulfil a purpose. This Wrightscale Quarry Hunslet is not just a pretty face. It is moving slate wagons. Does that make it less an art object?   

There are indeed borderline objects which are both volume-produced but have artistic qualities. Our much prized bidet whose design was inspired by Japanese porcelain is pleasing, well made and now has some scarcity value. As a product of industrial design, it is an artwork. As a bidet, it isn’t.We might auction it, but only on GumTree. It wouldn't go to Christies and certainly not to an auction of collectibles. to an auction of collectibles.

Art can be immensely valuable. Recognised artworks can go for huge sums of money. At the same time, and here’s the paradox, art is inclusive. No-one needs to be left out.

This detail from a design by Frank Price is also reproduced by kind permission of MoDA. The artist was clearly intending to bring some of the joy of Van Gogh's Almond Blossom - a priceless artwork to a wider public.

16mm in general and the designs of Silver Studio belong within the territory of art. They have a functional existence, they invite the participation of their public and enjoying them is one of the most inclusive of human activities. Wrightscale models are bought because they work. In the same way, fabric has always been useful for covering, shelter and as a way of showing off.

Both have a contradictory quality. They are prized because failure is a possibility. Sometimes one of our locomotives doesn’t move. Sometimes a fabric doesn’t ‘work’ in a room. Time and care are needed. There is trouble shooting, there is rethinking. A relationship is built up between the person and the model, or indeed the family and their furnishings. As previous blogs suggest, this is slow pleasure, unlike the instant gratification offered by, say, a sugar hit, a violent movie or junk food. Once the savour is acquired, the pleasure of a tastefully furnished room or an afternoon on a 16mm live steam layout must be one of the finest human experiences.

Both the 16mm experience and appreciation of tasteful decoration are surprisingly inclusive. To experience the 16mm experience, all you have to do is to belong. To belong, all you need is to want to belong. A nominal subscription is needed, less than the price of regularly buying a magazine. You are then welcome at Society meetings. The only cost is getting there. In the same way someone can be a fabric artist. The story of Frank Price, Chief Designer at Silver Studio, illustrates this precisely. He came from humble beginnings, spent much of his working life among art treasures and left us all some of the finest designs in wallpaper and fabrics.

Association of 16mm Narrow Gauge Modeller www.16mm.org.uk

S. Wright ‘Frank Price: Golden Hand Of The Silver Studio’ Birse Press available from Camden Miniature Steam

 

16mm WDLR modellers

In this blog, we find a connection between a campaigning Daily Mail Journalist and the War Department Light Railways.

16mm model of a War Department Class D wagon built by MD Wright using Wrightscale bogies

A standard War Department class D wagon rated at 9 tons 18 cwt (hundred weight) could carry as much as 120 mules (assuming the standard loading for an equine of 70 kilos.) A railway wagon could be left outside, shot at, be tipped over and of course it did not need regular food and water. Liz Jones, formerly fashion editor at the Daily Mail campaigns for the welfare of what she calls ‘equines’ ie horses, donkeys and mules. She doesn’t seem to know it, but she should regard the War department Light Railways as a great leap forward in horse welfare.

As stated in previous blogs, the WDLR was an arm of the Army Transport Corps. It was commissioned in September 1916 as the Directorate of Light Railways, headed by Sir Eric Geddes. There was already a Railway Operating Division, but it was small, lacking in prestige and funding. It was absorbed into the new organisation which had the backing of Lloyd George himself.

Thanks to its powerful backers and no doubt to the chagrin of the Quartermaster General, the WDLR was able to put in  huge orders for track, rolling stock and locomotives, all in 60 cm gauge. Some might have questioned the use of dodgy foreign measurements for a good British railway – weren’t feet and inches good enough?

This German gun was clearly designed to be towed to the Front by a horse, poor thing. Photograph of a captured gun from 'Illustration'  Magazine; image courtesy of MD Wright

For two years, politicians and ‘top brass’ at the British army tried to ignore the fact that the French had a comparatively efficient way of supplying their trenches. in 1916, as we see below, they were forced to find an efficient way to transport supplies. It was important a/ to borrow any good ideas and b/ to use a system compatible with the French one. Thus 60cm gauge was chosen for the new portable railways. It was light enough and adaptable enough to be laid quickly with comparatively little groundwork. Conventional railways took years to build. These could be pushed out in weeks. Prefabricated lengths of rail could be laid down, almost like toy Hornby track.

What had the original British plan been? The war envisaged by the generals had never included trenches. True, a trenching tool was part of each foot soldier’s kit, to be used to dig in while consolidating a position before an advance. This advance was to be supplied by lorries on the road and equine transport elsewhere.

Lord Kitchener, Chief at British HQ insisted on leaving a 2’6” railway system in Britain, though the Royal Engineers suggested it would be useful. It is said that he told a manufacturer of light railways ‘This is not our way of doing things’. It is not a coincidence that the War Department Light Railways were formed soon after he went missing, presumed dead.

But we return to the situation in autumn 1914.  

Allied troops are digging in. The photo was taken in spring 1918 when the German advance nearly broke through Allied lines. Image from Illustration magazine; courtesy MD Wright

The temporary trenches became permanent. At first, it was the enemy, then the French, then the British Expeditionary Force. It was called the race to the sea.  Soon a trench system stretched from  the Channel just in the north to Switzerland in the south with few gaps. The Germans in fact took the initiative and chose the best ground!  British stories about trench warfare are all about mud whereas captured German positions tended to be snug and well-drained.

Suddenly, almost a million soldiers on each side needed everything, but everything, brought to them. This included spares and ammunition of course, but also food and drinking water, not to forget the rum ration. In addition, to stave off death from mud, rats, disease and exposure, serious quantities of timber etc had to be brought in.

The French soon had a relatively satisfactory trench supply.   They adapted a portable railway system, first officially adopted in 1888. The official name was système artillerie 88 but it was always popularly known as système Péchot after Prosper Péchot, an officer in the French artillery. It was a bit old-fashioned and neglected, but with a huge effort, they increased and modernised their stock.

16mm scale model of a Péchot-Bourdon locomotive. The prototype was designed by Prosper Péchot for his system. The model was built by Henry Holdsworth and the photograph taken by Jim Hawkesworth

The Germans were the best prepared. They had a thousand miles of 60cm gauge rail and rolling stock to match. To run their military railways they had a regiment or so of Eisenbahnpioniere/ railway engineers, ready trained. They saw what the French were doing and between 1888 and 1914 had been developing and improving their system. During the War, they refined and improved their system.

This phtograph taken by Eric Fresné in the 1960s shows a German 0-8-0 tank Dlok and the remains of a Brigadewagen, boith used in the First World War. The decay is a sad sight, but better than seeing the remains of once-live horses. Image is courtesy of Eric Fresné

Between 1914 and 15, the situation in the British sector of the Western Front was wretched, but not so bad that Top Brass needed to take notice. With heavy reliance on equine power, matters at the Front were disgraceful. Because the British trenches tended to be overlooked by the Germans, mule trains and General Service wagons could only be moved by night. My grandpa, then a junior officer in the Royal Engineers, recalled that it took about four hours to move a wagon, pulled by four mules and two human attendants the two miles to the trenches. The roads were in a dreadful state, so everyone was soaked and muddy. Then an equally perilous return journey had to be made by daybreak, all to transport 30 hundred weight of stores (roughly 1.5 metric tonnes).

Ms Jones reports that 1.36 MILLION horses and mules were taken from Britain, Canada and other parts of the Empire to provide the labour. She is indignant; perhaps not indignant enough. The horse has been trained up by evolution to live on its nerves. When a member of its kinship group senses danger, it uses its fabled speed to run away. It is thus, even in the best circumstances, only easy if it has horsey companions. Conditions as a working animal are very different from the open steppe and each horse has to be ‘broken’ to fit into human society. Ideally, this breaking in should be humane, but of the 1.36 million equines dumped into the Western Front area, we can’t be sure that this was so for them all.

This picture by Georges Scott shows what could be expected of horses on the Western Front, though highly romanticised. Horses towing a gun carriage are charging the enemy. As a matter of prosaic fact, horses or mules were usually put to work hauling supplies. Image from Illustration magazine courtesy MD Wright

There may well have been many horses which were forced to undergo further ‘training’ for the specialist conditions at the Front; the motorised traffic, gunfire, even being confined for days on end in stables. Bad though being confined indoors might be, it was preferable to working conditions.

When my grandpa mentioned mud on each side of the road, ‘mud’ was a euphemism for the slurry generated by rotting corpses. He recalled passing dead horses on the journey. It happens that the horse family is particularly sensitive to the stink of death. Horse lovers tell each other stories about horses seeing ghosts. I can well believe that they smell them. It is reasonable to suppose that evolution selected them to be wary of corpses. Animal remains were a warning that predators were around. I wouldn’t like to speculate about the feelings of the mules edging their way through darkness, passing rotting corpses, but it is fair to empathise in their feelings of distress.

The horses were correct to feel fear, the worst sort of fear, helplessness where neither fight nor flight were an option. In the German trenches nearby, there were snipers. They were skilled enough to ‘get the range’ of a target when the wagoneers made a first noise and to get in a surprisingly accurate shot when they made a second. The humans knew that whatever happened, they must not make a sound. This gave them an element of control and therefore lessened their stress. A horse or mule could not be expected to understand this and their stress was increased.

Ms Jones remarks that of the equine survivors after the Armistice 1918 ‘most were left behind’. Some, especially beloved cavalry horses such as War Horse, were shipped back . Ms Jones would not be reassured to learn that left-over horses and mules were comparatively rare. Most added to the questionable mud at the Front.

This painting by Georges Scott shows a French 155mm 'long' gun being towed by a lorry. A lorry was good for occasional use but it was thirsty for fuel and chewed up the roads. Image from Illustration magazine, courstesy MD Wright

All through 1915, a vast army of volunteers was training in Britain. If the comparatively small British Expeditionary Force had gobbled up a million mules, how were all these new soldiers to be supplied? The British looked at their French neighbours and German opponents to see the answer. Top Brass were still obstinate. They demanded more lorries. The only trouble was, the lorries needed fuel. The buses taking munition workers to the factories back home needed fuel. There wasn’t enough for both.

David Lloyd George, who had characterised himself as Mr Fixit, called in Sir Eric Geddes. When Geddes proposed a British version of 60cm railways, the politicians were at last receptive and the WDLR was born

When the First World War ended, 60cm gauge was so widespread that thousands of surplus locomotives and rolling stock remained at or near the Front. They were sold off and used for agricultural and industrial work.When they were worn out, they were abandoned. This picture taken at 'tacot des lacs,' a former sand extraction plant in 2010, shows a  60cm gauge diesel gently rotting away.

As we reflect that what was good for people was also good for animals, we might spare a thought for the machines used to replace the animals. What if they have feelings too? We mentioned ‘Collision’ in our last blog. In the story, an autonomous vehicle is faced with moral dilemmas. When a machine has sensibilities, is it moral to destroy that machine, or even to subject it to the IT-equivalent of a lobotomy? Is the next stage after Animal Rights, the Rights of Machines?

 

You might be interested in these.

For the story of military narrow gauge: Sarah Wright Colonel Péchot: Tracks To The Trenches  Birse Press 2014

If you are interested in the fate of war surplus 60cm material, Eric Fresné has written the book for you: Eric Fresné 70 ans de lignes betteravières en France LR Presse 2007 (French Language)

For the horsey aspect: Liz Jones  The Exmoor Files: How I lost a husband and nearly found rural bliss Phoenix/Orion 2010

Jones lists a number of good horse-orientated charities.

Francis Morrow Collision 2020 Amazon Editions

 

16mm Wren and history

This Kerr, Stuart Wren model is one which could appear in ‘A history of the Industrial Revolution in One Hundred Objects’ It is a machine which summarises the years 1880 to 1930.

16mm Wrightscale Wren in black livery

We were thinking about objects which reflect the turn of the 20^th to 21^st century and there are none better than the autonomous vehicle. The technology was waiting for electrically powered cars (around since the 19^th century but needing a fair degree of refinement). It also needed good roads, vast infrastructure and most of all a well developed and integrated artificial intelligence. A model would be interesting, future implications more so. Is AI (autonomous intelligence) the way forward? Are we creating divinities or monsters? A novel we have been reading explores the questions that the autonomous car raises. It is enjoyable with characters you like and loathe and some absorbing action. You’d like it too:

Collision by Francis Morrow available from Amazon e-books.

Meanwhile, back in the 19^th century, we have a steam locomotive.

As an object, the Wren shows the development of British industry, decade by decade.In 1880, Glasgow was a powerhouse of trade and manufacture. These days, the city is dismissed as a branch office but at the time, Glasgow entrepreneurs were finding work for everyone else in the country.

Wrightscale Wren pushes  small freight wagons,

The company started in 1881 as James Kerr, acting as agents for English factories. In 1883 the name was changed to Kerr, Stuart & Co. In 1892, the company purchased Hartley, Arnoux and Fanning and moved to Stoke. The company they had bought provided railway locomotives and trams. The later they sold on, but kept the railway business. In short, here was a vigorous new interloper buying and breaking up an established company. We hear of modern Hedge Funds and Trusts doing this, and so Kerr, Stuart were nothing if not modern.

Hartley Arnoux and Fanning were already manufacturing standard gauge locomotives, known since the early 19^th century but under Kerr, Stuart they expanded their narrow gauge division. Although narrow gauge railways were known for moving loads for short distances, Kerr Stuart increased the number and variety of locomotives available. Yes, innovators such as Spooner and Fairlie in Wales and Decauville in France had demonstrated the vast possibilities of the new technology, but in small numbers. Improvements in material – special steel, presses, riveting etc - had certainly helped. In the early days, experiment threw up delightful curiosities such as vertical boilers. Decauville, Mallet, Prosper Péchot and Charles Bourdon refined the technology, but in small numbers. Companies such as Kerr, Stuart took narrow gauge locomotives to a vast new public. Only a few Mallets were ever built; in contrast, more than 160 Wrens alone.  Such machines evolved from curiosities to valuable prime movers.

The Decauville Company introduced narrow gauge railways which were worked by human power. Illustration couresy J. Hawkesworth,

By 1903, Kerr Stuart were offering a tiny locomotive – the 0-4-0 Buya class, named after the first customer to place an order. Here we come to another significant innovation. Kerr Stuart did not wait for orders. This was the safe and accepted procedure at the time, but customers can’t usually successfully describe what they really want.  As Henry Ford used to say of motor manufacture: Don’t ask the customer what he wants. He’d say ‘faster horses’ .

No. It was better to have a few locomotives in stock for the customer to examine and see what was wanted. The company would start a batch, usually of six. A few examples were held back from completion and then customised in accordance with the buyer’s requirements.

The development of the Wren bears this out. In 1905, Works No 888 was produced, at 4.2 tons in steam, a slightly larger version of the   tiny Buya. This design was known as the ‘old-type’ Wren, squat and with other distinguishing features. The cylinders are horizontal, it lacks draincocks and as a result blows steam continuously. The very first examples ran on cast steel wheels. This particular feature was soon modified. Later these old types were modernised, with cast-iron centres and steel tyres which could be replaced.

Works photograph of new-type Wren courtesy Armley Museum

In 1915, the first ‘new-type’ was introduced although even after this date the company was asked for the original design. Old types could be younger than the new (I hope you’re keeping up!) The overall height of the locomotive was increased to just over 7’ above the rail (so still quite Wren-like) and the boiler was raised giving an airy feel to the engine. Airy is the word I’d use as daylight is just about visible under the boiler. Very importantly for the crew, the cylinders were angled and drain cocks were fitted, reducing the constant cloud of steam which, as physicists would remind us, is not only wet and opaque but also HOT.

The majority of Wrens follow this ‘new-type’ design, including the best loved of all surviving examples. In 1922, 27 Wrens were ordered by RW Neal and Co for use building a sewer at Barkingside in Essex. In 1929, six of these were resold to Devon County Council for use in a quarry for road-stone. These were typical, non-glamorous uses for the Wren prototypes. Pixie went on to for use at the Leighton Buzzard sand workings, and survived. The story of Peter Pan is similar.

Another reason for the popularity of the design was that it could be adapted. There are oil-burning and wood-fired versions, tramway designs and Sherpa types for tackling steep slopes.

The most interesting variations are the gauges once offered. Between 1903 and 1914, the Wren was supplied to run on a variety of gauges; indeed, the customer could, within reason, specify. Works number 911 of 1906 was built to run on 1’8” (50cm) gauge while number 1041 of 1908 ran on 915mm gauge. The very narrow gauge version had outside frames. As metre gauge Kerr Stuart models were available, the customer would look at those models for anything approaching that gauge.

By 1915-16, most Wren new-builds went over to 2’/60cm gauge. The Wren reflects the history of the 20^th century and was changed for ever

The events of 1914-18 required a system of military narrow gauge which could supply the vast armies fielded by Allies and Central Powers.

Thanks to Prosper Péchot and his circle, the French Army had a sophisticated design using sturdy prefabricated track, easy to lay, quick to remove on which sturdy locomotives and trains could run. Péchot had determined that 60cm was the best gauge.

The Germans spotted this promising new system and copied it, down to the design of wagons and the 60cm gauge. No doubt this was a compliment, but of course Péchot did not see it this way. In spite of their suspicion of foreign design in general and the metric system in particular, the British were forced to admit that the foreigners had a good idea and copied it for themselves.

British narrow gauge went over to 60cm during and after the War. Thus most orders for Wrens tended to be for 60cm/2’. This is true of the Wrightscale 16mm Wren. It runs on 32mm track, a scale 2’

The Kerr Stuart Wren story does not end here. The company survived the War and seemed to be in robust health. However in 1930, it was wound up. This is a story in itself. Money had been diverted to a mysterious subsidiary and suddenly there was nothing in the current account to meet day-to-day expenses. The Company Secretary went quiet but suddenly committed suicide, leaving a pile of charred paper in the office grate.

It was a sad end to an organisation with valuable intellectual property. The designs, spares and goodwill were sold to the Hunslet company of Leeds and Kerr Stuart products, rebadged, continued to be in demand. Although Hunslet has also gone,  Wrens are still in production at Statfold Barn Engineering.

If you wanted the best and worst of British railway history in miniature, look to this model.

 

16mm scale Rail Mounted Crane

The French narrow gauge rail-mounted crane is a fascinating and elaborate piece of engineering. Only special circumstances could have brought it into existence. Indeed, the story of this crane and the whole system of narrow gauge portable railways begins under special circumstances. The picture below shows a 16mm model of an ammunition crane, built from a Wrightscale kit. Photo courtesy MD Wright.

In the War of 1870-1, France suffered catastrophic defeat against Prussia. As a result, most German-speaking states united under William of Prussia and France was forced to cede territory in the east – the Lost Provinces. In the early 1880s, Prosper Péchot devised a system of portable military railways. His motive was to create transport for the French Army which would strike into the Lost Provinces and recover key cities such as Metz.

Backed by Paul Decauville, he struggled to persuade his superiors to adopt his innovative system. The diagram of a Péchot bogie (Type 1) shown below demonstrates the care and detail that went into every part of Péchot's designs. Diagram drawn by Malcolm Wright. In fact, between 1884 and 1886, the Navy was the Service which were most interested; thanks to Decauville and the Ministère de la Marine, several kilometres of portable track, and about a hundred special bogies were built. The Navy was particularly worried about Britain! The Army professed no real interest; they were going to depend on a line of modern earth-sheltered forts to keep out the enemy.

In 1886, the first of a new generation of ammunition was introduced – the high-explosive shell. The Army were foolish enough to demonstrate the value of their forts in front of the Free Press. Modern guns were lined up against Fort de Malmaison. The place was blown to smithereens in an afternoon; worse still, under the noses of newshounds.

Something had to be done!

Senior generals were still keen on their forts. It was clear from the exercise that the real problem was letting guns get too close. If a protective screen of subsidiary forts, defended in their turn by small batteries, defended in their turn by subsidiary batteries and so on ad infinitum, could be constructed, the enemy could be kept away.

These sub-fortifications had to be supplied efficiently. The Army realised it had just the system, the système Péchot.

Between 1886 and 1889, this was refined and expanded. At the Great Centenary Exhibition of 1889, the public were moved around on Decauville 60cm gauge railways. Péchot style locomotives were used and, displayed in pride of place, was a 64 tonne gun carried on Péchot bogies. By way of thanks, within a couple of years, Decauville was removed from his office in the Company he had built up and Péchot was virtually exiled in Castres. But that is another story.

Péchot was always considerate of his foot soldiers. He designed everything to be within the limits of what could be reasonably carried or pushed by a human being. On the other hand, his wagons were designed to carry loads almost unimaginable for portable track – artillery ammunition was getting bigger and angrier. Stations and loading areas were equipped with gantry cranes. Away from permanent installations, the Army and Marine depended on pulleys and winches mounted on sheer-legs. The French called this type of lifting gear the chèvre (literally goat). Colonel Péchot: Tracks to The Trenches has photos showing these sheerleg cranes in use between 1886 and 1890.Over the years, ordinance grew in bulk and mass, as the picture below shows.

As anyone knows, sheer-legs have their disadvantages, particularly in cramped spaces and when time is of the essence. Prosper Péchot wasn’t going to let his squaddies down. Two sorts of rail-mounted crane were devised. We have reason to believe that they were designed and built in the 1890s (the photographic record and studies by Jacques Pradayrol.)

One type was the grue Magnarde with a theoretical rating of six tonnes. This was basically a scaled-down version of a standard gauge rail-mounted crane. We can tell from the name that there was another hand as well as Péchot’s in the design. Grue is a crane with a movable jib, Magnarde the name of the officer which commissioned it. The grue Magnarde was a large device carried on four Péchot bogies, which required stabilisers when in use.

The other type was definitely more ‘Péchot’. This was a small crane suitable for single shells or, as we might say, pieces of heavy ordinance weighing over 30 kg. Mounted on a single Péchot bogie, its typical use was to handle large calibre shells and their propellant. They were needed when a supply wagon reached a gun battery and then again at the point of fire. Its official name was the grue a obus - crane for shells.

The crane was brought up by rail then positioned over the wagon. It picked up a shell in a scissor-grip. The load was balanced by a counter-weight that ran out on a parabolic track. The greater the load, the further out the counterweight travelled. The device was safe without a safety ratchet or brake. Thanks to the design of the bogie, the jib could be turned, if necessary through 360 degrees. The picture below shows a 16mm model made from a Wrightscale kit.

A 370mm gun, just one of the uses, would be supplied by Péchot track. A turntable was inserted in the track and the wagon would be diverted to a siding at right angles running alongside the gun. When firing a the available crane would pick up a shell, run along the back of the gun, swing around and release the shell on to a track which led up to the breech of the gun. The crane was then withdrawn. A painting by Henry Cheffer shows the crane in action.  Interestingly, Cheffer has omitted the system of track around the gun.

Wrightscale has produced a 16mm scale model kit for this, the ‘people’s’ rail-mounted crane. It is designed to be mounted on a Péchot bogie. The standard support provided by the bogie is a turntable, capable of turning through 360 degrees. The circular baseplate of the crane acts like the rotating top. To the baseplate are attached the jib supports. They in turn support the jib and the counterbalance rails.

With the cable rig in place, the lifting gear is connected to the counter-balance. The cable travels from the fixing point on the drum, three turns around the drum and then on to the second top pulley, up round the hook, over the top pulley, round the pulley  fixed to the rear of the counterbalance rails and finally is fixed to the back of the counter-balance itself.

A handle equipped with gears moves the drum. Thanks to the gears, no extraordinary effort is require in lifting a significant weight. Thanks to the counterweight arrangement, there is no danger of the weight suddenly falling. Thanks to the bogie, the crane can be pushed along easily. It has brakes, operated by screws; because of the protruding jib and counter-balance, the brakewheels, as used on the standard bogie, have been removed.

The colour varied. When originally used in the 19^th century, most military railways were painted ‘horizon blue’ – a sort of grey, as can be seen from hand-tinted postcards of the period. This is the colour of the 16mm models shown in the pictures above. During the Great War, the science of camouflage came into its own. Military equipment was more likely to be painted a khaki green, and perhaps decorated with splodges to further break up the outline. By now, colour printing was more widespread and there are a number of pictures of camouflaged material – the picture below, featuring a 370 mortar, as used in the First World War, shows the crane in new colours.Picture courstesy MD Wright.

The Péchot model crane has proved to be a popular product. It has a fascination – a charming little crane which finds a place on many sorts of layout. It can be installed line-side or the mobile version runs along the track.

Further, we all like a model which works. The bogie runs along the track, the crane turns on its pivot. Turn the little handle and the hook goes up while the counter balance runs out. The only disappointment is that we supply a hook rather than a scissors grip. We would be delighted if an enthusiast sent us a picture of a 16mm scale working scissors grip!

The grue a obus offers something else – a story. It is an old-fashioned story. It is how an officer spoke to decorated generals and the elite of French society but also cared for the lowly men who laboured under his command.

If you can, find out a copy of Dr Cénac’s ’60 centimetres for supplying the French Army during the 14-18 War’ (French language)

Sarah Wright ‘Colonel Péchot: Tracks to the Trenches’

 

16mm Alice on an incline

The gravity hauled incline has a long history. There are fascinating traces of early wooden railways around the Mediteranean, but that is for another time. Suffice to say that those pioneer porters knew that, when there was timber, coal, wheat etc to be carried, gravity was a good friend and an implacable enemy.When commodities were being extracted from a hillside, gravity was a potential friend, so the principles of using gravity to take freight out of a quarry were not new. The Germans used it, then the miners of North-east England, then the quarries of North Wales. In our part of the world, at the Wells of Lecht, near the watershed between Spey and Don, manganese was extracted from an adit into the frowning face of Cairnmor. 

Below in a more rural setting, a 16mm Wrightscale model of an 'Alice' Class Hunslet conveys some wagons. Here is the story of how the prototype negotiated a gravity incline and could do so on your layout.

The Welsh prototype was of world-wide importance. Before going on to conquer the world, the Frenchmen Paul Decauville and Prosper Péchot always acknowledged their debt to the slate quarries of Wales for valuable ideas and for saving them many painful mistakes.The Dinorwic quarries, poised above the Menai Straights, taught the French valuable lessons. The area around Dinorwic provided a series of challenges; a river and two bonny lakes – or llyns – led up to a mountain composed of slate. In the 1870s, slate from these quarries was transported by a 4’ (ie almost-standard gauge) railway. Above this railway were the quarries which were connected by cable-worked inclines.

2’ gauge proved to be the most convenient gauge - as Prosper Péchot was to demonstrate though he translated this into 60cm. Wanted! A locomotive tough enough to stay out of the workshop for long periods, small enough to be cable-hauled up and down where necessary and powerful enough to haul significant tonnages of slate and waste. Although the company loved a bargain as much as any, only three of the 31 they purchased were second-hand. A worn loco was a false economy.

Most of these were from the Hunslet Engine Co Ltd of Leeds. Above is a 16mm model by Wrightscale. Broadly speaking, they provided three types of loco. Port and Tramway were both seen around the loading docks while the Alice class, as pictured above,  generally stayed in the high quarries. Although the quarries are closed, the National Slate Museum of Wales gives an idea of the atmosphere and grandeur of the site. If you can’t get there yet, at least visit the website, (directions below).

The Alice locomotives which were destined for narrow slate galleries had neither cab nor steam dome. Their looks were peculiar.They catered neither for health, safety nor comfort. And yet … these ‘Quarry’ Hunslets are much loved. Although they have been manufactured in several different workshops in 16mm scale, the interest in the Wrightscale model is undiminished.

Strictly speaking, your Dinorwic (Dinorwig) Hunslet, or any other well-loved Quarry locomotive, should have its own little circuit on your garden railway. It should be connected to the main layout by a gravity incline. Above, we see a short train on the gravity incline on Peter Kinnear's layout.  Most people won’t want to reproduce the majesty of a Welsh quarry in the back garden, but that shouldn’t stop you from having your own little gravity system. Peter Kinnear, as mentioned before, has made a splendid feature of one. Some day, our South Deeside Railway will have one too.

Thanks to Jim Hawkesworth, we have some pictures of an incline he knew when he was a lad. It was built to serve one of the Beeston collieries. These would have been known to DH Lawrence. The hero of one of his novels tries his hand as clerk in the office; no doubt Lawrence wrote from experience. He himself quickly decided to become a ‘stool-harsed Jack’ and become a writer instead.  The area was well known. The labouring class knew the mines, of course and the Quality also liked it. They would drive past workings and Incline to picnic by the Hemlock Stone picturesquely placed on the top of the hill.

By the 1950s, the incline was abandoned and became a playground for naughty boys. The photo above is courtesy of Jim Hawkesworth. It was great fun to pull an abandoned wagon to the top of the slope and let it roll down again, until, one by one, the wagons were smashed.  In 1979, Bramcote crematorium and garden of remembrance was built on the site.

Jim’s first photo is the view from above. You can see the line running into the loading shed. This was fed from the left by a ramp up which was hauled the coal, or spoil, ready to be dropped into the tippers waiting below. A small engine house beside it would have provided the power. DON’T ask what powered the engine – coal of course! Empties would be hauled back up on the bypass lane – an overturned example is seen on the track. Near the top of the photo can be seen another building.

The second photo, also courtesy Jim Hawkesworth, gives us a better view of this building, no doubt at one time the lower winding house. An incline and the remains of a coal store are visible. The building was also shelter for the switchman – the site of the original turnout is clearly visible. Two naughty boys are engaged in an altercation while a third looks on, waiting for a bit of help in removing the ‘dead’ tipper wagon.

Jim’s third photo show the line then running alongside a lane, complete with telegraph poles. The footprints show just how narrow the gauge is.

Although the scene is one of decay and the weather is filthy, you can just see its beauty. It makes use of a valley – hills, trees and swift-flowing stream. There must be potential for a modeller.

Peter Kinnear modelled his incline on the Waste Transfer System at Powderhall, Edinburgh. Although the prototype is no more glamorous than the Nottingham one, Peter has made it beautiful. inspiration for art can be found anywhere, even in a waste transfer system!

The above photo shows a wagon and haulage rope.

Unlike a true gravity system, the Kinnear scheme depends on a Prime Mover. The sequence goes as follows. The train gets shunted on to the incline track, leaves the wagons that are going down the hill. The 'Mule' (blue loco) comes from the shed, couples on, then pushes the wagons along, they start to roll down the incline and the mule carries on lowering them down.Peter explains that to reproduce a true gravity worked balanced incline, there has to be a lot of human intervention. We 16 millers don’t like too much ‘hands on’ and the alternative, humans in 16mm scale, is not yet available!

In this system, the 'Mule' is attached permanently to an endless cable; the winding-house powers the cable, one direction of winding taking the mule down the hill, the other direction bringing it up again. Before you embark on your model, a fact-finding tour is highly recommended. Once lockdown ends, watch out for East of Scotland 16mm Association Open Days. There will be an opportunity to see Peter’s layout.

A trip to the Welsh Slate Museum would be worthwhile. Alternatively, you can visit the old manganese mine. It is free, and open to the public all year round. Follow the A939 Cockbridge to Tomintoul road. The Well of Lecht nearby is clearly visible and there is a public footpath. The main limit is weather.

https://www.google.com/search?q=dinorwig+slate+quarry&client=firefox-b&sxsrf=ALeKk0345mc2JsbN9WCi6kLmpbyrYQrhgA:1602499802650&tbm=isch&source=iu&ictx=1&fir=qj8BoYA7N8sdbM%252CRIk32qCpbOm-EM%252C%252Fm%252F026nbwg&vet=1&usg=AI4_-kSlv3SG7W-fS-h0_vMScRH9n7Y8pQ&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjj9fT78K7sAhWFs3EKHXZgAXUQ_B16BAgREAM&biw=1280&bih=877#imgrc=qj8BoYA7N8sdbM

 

16mm scale Hunslet ALICE

Here are just a few thoughts on running a 16mm Hunslet ‘Alice’ class locomotive. The loyalty this locomotive enjoys is based on the history of the prototype. It amply rewards its place on a 16mm layout.

The picture shows a Wrightscale Quarry Hunslet pushing slate wagons. Photo and layout by Malcolm Wright

Among the most celebrated Quarry Hunslets were those which served the quarries at Diorwic in Wales. The original quarries have served as inspiration for a number of super 16mm scale layouts, giving opportunities for a variety of situations.Strangely enough, they were dismissed as an industrial site during the lifetime of the quarries. Dinorwic never attracted the tourists who came to the Festiniog or the Talyllyn. The longer these quarries have been closed, the more intriguing they have become.

To us nowadays, an air of mystery hangs about Dinorwic. It is sited in North-West Wales, squeezed between Snowdonia, the lakes of Padarn and Peris and the Menai Straits. It has the most extraordinary and beautiful scenery and local folklore (last stand of the Giants, the Druids, the Welsh Bards). The English owners compounded the mystery of the Quarries with their family feuds involving racehorses and by deliberately destroying Company records. As an afterthought, bards and druids aside, it has to be added that the Quarries counted as outstanding both in longevity and mechanical innovation. JIC Boyd (Narrow Gauge Railwas Vol 3)

For centuries, slate had been used as a building material in North Wales. A 19^th century diarist, Mr Ellis, remarks of one of the quarries that it was ‘an old quarry worked by the old people for hundreds of years’. The quarries of Dinorwic became a commercial proposition in the late 18^th century because product could be taken to Llyn/Lake Padarn, thence by lighter to the nearest port. One village expanded from 13 households in 1785 to 140 by 1850 (Ellis again).

The Quarry Huslet adapts well to a more rural setting. 16mm scale Wrightscale Hunslet

Firstly, it is believed, there was a horse-drawn tramway. The word ‘legendary’ was used about it which is perhaps the wrong word. A legend is something written down and nothing first-hand remains about this. Between 1824 and 1843, a 24 ½ “ gauge railway ran 7 miles from quarry to lake. Because of sharp gradients, the wagons had to be hauled by cable part of the way. It was replaced by what was called the Padarn Railway though it came to be called the Dinorwic, begun 1841, closed 1961. This was 4’ gauge. 2’ gauge slate wagons were to be carried on special transporters. Quarries and railway were connected by cable-worked inclines.

We fast-forward to the 1870s. Down by the lake-shore, the quarries were served by a 4’ almost-standard gauge railway. Up in the quarries themselves, as railways developed there, 2’ gauge was more convenient. At first, horses provided the motive power, but as they quarried deeper into the mountain face, the advantages of locomotion became more apparent. These would have to be special. 2’ gauge locomotives would be virtually marooned up there although they did come down for major repairs (more below)..

Wanted! A locomotive tough enough to stay out of the workshop for long periods, small enough to be cable-hauled down where necessary and powerful enough to haul significant tonnages of slate and waste. Although the company loved a bargain as much as any, only three of the 31 they purchased were second-hand. A worn loco was a false economy.

A close-up view of this 16mm Quarry Hunslet shows how small and neat it is. Wrightscale model

In the 1870s, the company purchased some de Winton locomotives, but showed remarkable allegiance to one manufacturer – the Hunslet Engine Co Ltd of Leeds. Broadly speaking, they provided three types of loco: Port Class and Tramway which were both seen around the loading docks, the Alice which generally stayed in the high quarries.

Tramway and Port were supplied with cabs, steam domes and higher chimneys. The ‘Alice’locomotives which were destined for narrow slate galleries had neither cab nor steam dome. They catered neither for health, safety nor comfort. The lack of a steam dome gave them the look of the bogeyman in ‘Scream’ that celebrated image of alienation and fear.

In spite of or because of these peculiarities, they have proved to be the most loved of prototypes.

The Alice class was quite tiny and could turn, almost, on a sixpence  (2 ½ New Pence). They could negotiate a 21’  radius curve, roughly 6 ½ m. The frame was 11’6” long, with front and rear overhang of 4’. Those good at arithmetic will see that the wheelbase was less than 4’  (1.2m). Most stood 7’3” above the top of the rail – including chimney. You might assume that the other two were taller but in fact, KING OF THE SCARLETS and LADY MADCAP had even shorter chimneys. They were, to put it mildly, compact. Not all of them spent their lives in the upper quarries but they were well adapted to the high life.

Though the livery preferred by the Dinorwic Management was Midland Red, many prototypes were black.

Making a model of such a small prototype was a challenge and running one is a proof of the model engineer’s mettle. We are proud that, over the years, our customers have wanted the refined pleasures of lighting up ALICE (or, if you prefer, KING OF THE SCARLETS), ENID, or if you prefer, RED DAMSEL, CLOISTER and so on. 

True to prototype, they have a sharp sense of humour. The original Alice and Enid were members of the owner’s family. His son decided to rename them, and other Hunslets, after race-horses. The model ALICE is not above the odd prank. She shows when she is ready to run by ejecting hot oil and condensate from her chimney. Do not be kneeling within range!  As they are modelled on small prototypes, there is nowhere for the heat to go; once the locomotive is running, it gets quite hot. There will be cool spots on larger live steamers, but take nothing for granted with ALICE!

Yet once the locomotive is running, she has endurance and is actually easier to keep in steam than other models. This is true of he prototype. Boyd remarks that the non-Hunslets on site ‘certainly required more careful handling’or ‘though useful, lacked the quality of a Hunslet product of the same tonnage’ She is not a model to fear.

It is important to get to know your model before taking her out. (Good advice in any situation, I say.) She likes ritual. All preparation has to be done in order.

Looking into the open cab of a Wrightscale Hunslet from above, showing the lubricator (left side), gas filling valve, left of centre, regulator, central, gas control valve and water filler to the right.

Firstly fill with water. This should be distilled water or water recovered from a condenser-drier or dehumidifier. Use the syringe provided at water at around 70 degrees. Open the regulator slightly by turning anti-clockwise, or the water will bubble back, then inject into the water filler in the cab. Insert the syringe then push and twist to get a seal. Inject with water, withdraw the syringe and turn the regulator back to its original position.

Next, the loco must be lubricated. Use Heavy Steam Oil from a quality supplier such as Roundhouse. Take off the lubricator cap, fill to just above the steam pipe visible inside, then replace the cap. It should only be finger-tight.

Only then should you fill up with gas. Propane/Butane mix is recommended. Pure propane is a bit too volatile, pure butane tends to sulk in the tank when it is too cold. In the Scots climate, it is wise to keep the gas cylinder in an inside pocket. Use a long gas filler-adapter such as the Roundhouse adapter Part GFA. The gas-filling valve is on the cab floor, on the same side as the lubricator. Make sure that the gas-control valve, other side, is closed. Before you attach the adapter and press, raise the locomotive at the rear. When the liquid gas reaches the base of the valve, ie the tank is full, it will vent and you will smell gas. Propane/butane is not poisonous, so you are quite safe.

The first time you light up, and indeed all the first run will be tentative.  Get to know the regulator – no gas, no fire – and how long to hold your lighter in front of  the flue. Get to know the noises as the flame lights and as it settles down. At around 20psi, ALICE may eject hot condensates from her short little chimney. Get to know the warning sounds. Run the locomotive on blocks until you have a ‘feel’ for the delicate balance of fuel flow, water flow and air.   

ALICE runs at 20 to 30 p.s.i. The safety valve lifts at 65, so in normal running, you should never approach ‘danger’ pressure. In addition, never forget regular lubrication. White arrows show where Three-in-one or similar should be applied  from time to time. The valve rods and piston rods should get steam oil (see above)

 

During their lifetime, the Quarries were not very well-known though they were rich in innovation and folk-lore. They suffered a little because a few miles south was the Festiniog Railway, also serving slate quarries. The management were masters of Public Relations, even before the term was invented. When the French wanted to find out about serious Narrow Gauge, it was to the Festiniog that they went. When Prosper Péchot wrote his Memorandum about volume transport on 2’/60cm gauge, it was the Festiniog that he cited as an example, not the Dinorwic. For the full story, you can refer to Tracks To The Trenches.

 

JIC Boyd The Narrow Gauge Railways of North Caernavonshire Volume 3 Oakwood Press 1986  

Colonel Péchot: Tracks To The Trenches Birse Press 2014