OFF THE BEATEN TRACK....

This month we commence a two part series of Memories by local station master, Brian Edge, now a resident of Crewe. This issue deals with his time at East langton and next month covers the period at Kibworth Station.

It was very exciting for me when, on that beautiful summer evening in July, my train trundled into East Langton station for the first time. The Relief Station Master jumped aboard the train as I alighted, he handed me the station keys and as the train was pulling out shouted "I've got you a bed for the night at Mrs Harbridge's at Church Langton". With that he and the few passengers that had alighted were gone and I was alone on the platform. I looked around at the idyllic views and couldn't quite believe it. A few hours earlier I had left my home in the large industrial town of Barrow in Furness, with its shipyards, ironworks, steel works, wireworks, gasworks and every other kind of works imaginable and yet from my 360 degree viewpoint on the platform I could see just eight houses.

My first walk up the fairly steep hill from the station to Church Langton was truly memorable. The views on that delightful evening were crystal clear, the hedgerows were immaculate. I have never ever seen hedges like them. All hand splashed and chamfered, not a twig out of place and the adjacent ditches were all clear, a neatness which I had never seen before and probably will never again.

As the tower of Church Langton Church came into view I noticed a strange smell which I was unable to identify. I was informed by the landlord of the Church Langton Arms that it came from the British Glues and Chemical Company's factory at Gallow Hill a couple of miles away on the other side of the valley and my mind wandered back to the remarks made at my interview. It turned out that there was a siding at the railway station where daily they received wagons of stinking bones, animal carcasses and cows feet. The wagons were, without any exaggeration, knee deep in maggots which fell out like rice when the wagon doors were dropped open. The ballast under the wagons appeared to be constantly moving. Yes in those days it was not 'leaves' that occasionally stopped or delayed the trains but maggots!

Apart from the unpleasantness of the bones, I found my new environment quite delightful, so peaceful on those lovely summer nights but there again so dark in winter time. There was at that time no road lighting and when one alighted from a bus at Foxton Crossroads at night one really knew the meaning of darkness. I recall the first occasion we alighted there at night for when the lights of the bus had disappeared my wife and I had no idea in which direction to go next. We laughed aloud at our predicament.

It was not long after arriving that we needed some coal and I enquired of one of the signalman as to the nearest coalman. "You don't have a coalman" he advised and explained the procedure, which although somewhat improper was nevertheless ingenious. The procedure was simple. All I had to do was to keep a row of cans or bottles on my garden fence, which was close to the signal at the end of the platform. Drivers of trains often stopped there and it seemed that it was traditional for drivers and firemen to throw pieces of coal at the targets whilst standing at the signal. One had just to replace the targets and collect the coal in a bucket as and when required!

The nearest shop to East Langton Station at that time was a front room in a very small cottage in the village. I think from memory the lady was a Miss Benson. She was quite charming and it was quite an experience opening the door and being greeted by the tinkling of a bell. I remember my first visit particularly well for I wanted some washing powder. The lady asked me how I did my washing. "In the sink" I replied. She went on to say that she didn't like the new fangled washing machines and went on to say "you wouldn't believe it but there is a lady in the village who has one and she puts her dirty knickers in with all the other washing!" The only other method of obtaining supplies was from a hawker named Osborne who came once a fortnight. Other than that there was just one bus into Harborough on the first Tuesday of each month so we used the train.

East Langton Station (known as Langton until 1 May 1891) was built during the time that Paddy Logan was resident at East Langton Grange. Logan was a successful railway contractor who had built part of the line, in particular the magnificent brickwork tunnels approach-ing St Pancras. It is interesting to note that Logan was the local Liberal Member of Parliament who was notorious for having crossed the floor of the House and blacked the eye of a member of the Opposition.

Colonel Derrick Hignett resided at the Grange at the time I was at Langton. He owned most of the village and was deeply interested in everything that went on there. He never failed to turn up at the festive seasons with a brace of pheasants, a hare or something similar for the station staff.

The station won many prizes for its pretty gardens but never the top prize. That was until one day when a reporter from the Leicester Mercury came to the station saying we had won the First Prize. Harold Rogers, the porter, who worked very hard on the gardens was so proud of his apparent achievement, and in anticipation of his share in the £15 prize money announced the news to Bob Finch the landlord at the Bell Inn, East Langton and successfully negotiated a 'sub' for his evening's entertainment. It is not difficult to imagine the embarrassment the next day when it was discovered that the Leicester Mercury had got it all wrong and it was Manton Station, not Langton that had won the coveted prize!

Station staff always called out 'East Langton' when a stopping train pulled into the station. This was frequently accompanied by the unofficial announcement "Change here for Foxton Locks and Glooston Docks". I never did discover the significance of the latter.

If you wish to read more of Brian Edge's experiences click here

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