Beyond the Notes | 03. On the Slow Train
A cat on a seat, a milk churn, more than a few puffs of steam, and an elegy for a time passing into history, where no one departs, and no one arrives.
In this series, I share some of the pieces of music which have meant the most to me in my life, and the stories behind why they resonate so strongly within a life lived slowly and simply.
“They've all passed out of our lives”
It’s hard not to be moved by this line for Flanders and Swann’s 1963 song, Slow Train, a elegy to the stations axed (though some were eventually spared) by Dr Beeching in his catastrophic railway cuts of the 1960s. But the song is about more than that, because it laments the passing into history of a way of life:
“No churns, no porter, no cat on a seat,
At Chorlton-cum-Hardy or Chester-le-Street
We won't be meeting again
On the Slow Train.”
I wrote recently that our love affair with The Lake District remains as undiminished as that with steam trains. The last mainline steam train to run in the UK arrived into Liverpool Lime Street at 19:59 on 11th August 1968. A steam ban began the following day. It was as blunt as that.
We think of steam trains as a quaint part of our heritage, little trains, just like Ivor the Engine, that we can visit and ride upon during our summer holidays. I can remember childhood holidays riding the little trains of North Wales, all just like Ivor. Mainline steam ended just 15 years before I was born, so we’re not talking of something centuries old. Travelling by steam train in the normal course of day-to-day life is well within living memory.
Flanders and Swann are perhaps better known for their comedy songs, yet Slow Train tugs at the heartstrings. We can’t help but become misty-eyed as we think back to this bygone era. Maybe it’s just a speck of grit from the majestic, rumbling steam engine ahead, which has caused the tears to form in our eyes?
The song has been likened to Edward Thomas’ 1914 poem, Adlestrop:
“The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop - only the name”
The talk now, in 2024, is once again of nationalisation. Perhaps British Railways will be reborn for the 21st century…but of course, we’ve been here before. We cannot recreate the nostalgic travel found in The Railway Children, but some of those Slow Train stations may yet reinstated.
“No passenger waits on Chittening platform or Cheslyn Hay
No one departs, no one arrives”
Perhaps the song itself, a lament for a slower and simpler way of life, is a reminder that when everything else seems to have gone, we are still left with our memories.
When I was sharing the YouTube link to the Slow Train above, I was intrigued to read some of the comments:
‘Anthem for the end of an era’
‘A bittersweet tribute to a bygone era’
‘I must have some grit in my eyes. Tears flowing.’
‘It is very evocative of times gone by, and one can't help but think of the lives of our grandparents, and the slower pace of everything then.’
We can’t recreate a bygone era, but we can cherish the memories, and perhaps, just perhaps, these evoke that yearning for a slower, simpler pace of life, one which many of us crave.
“We won't be meeting again
On the Slow Train.”
Or will we?
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They've all passed out of our lives…something both beautiful and heartbreaking about that line.
This reminded me of a song my Nan used to sing to me "Oh Mr Porter, what shall I do, I want to go to Birmingham but they've taken me on to Crewe". Delightful, David.