Celebrating steam power

Locomotion: the national railway museum at Shildon

I have always loved trains. This is surprising given my early aversion to the Thomas the Tank Engine books by Reverend Awdry. Nor have I ever crouched, anorak-clad, on railway stations, noting down numbers in notebooks.

In fact, I regard nostalgia for the age of steam as unhealthy, especially in grown men - if diesel or electric is faster and cleaner, then so be it. In spite of all this, I still enjoy the physical thrill of train travel.

So it was exciting to visit the splendid Locomotion: The National Railway Museum (NRM) at Shildon. There could be no other location for such a shrine. It was from here in 1825 that Timothy Hackworth's Locomotion, a joint creation with George Stephenson, pulled the world's first steam-hauled train to Darlington.

That same year the locomotive works in the town were built. Shildon technology became known worldwide until the works were controversially closed in 1984. This wound was every bit as deep and painful as the closure of pits, steelworks and shipyards elsewhere in the region.

I was last in Shildon five years ago, when I was shown plans for storage space to house the national reserve railway collections. Far more has been accomplished than was planned in the original proposal.

Sixty or more carriages and locomotives are housed in an impressive steel and glass building, the roofline of which echoes the great railway stations of Newcastle and York in a more linear form.

But at Shildon the view is uncluttered by modern, plastic-looking ticket offices, coffee stalls and baguette shops. Rails recede uninterrupted into the distance and rolling stock takes centre stage. There is a steely authenticity in the air. My companion, a long-time railway engineer, said emotionally: 'This feels right. It smells real.'

Locomotion provides plenty of icons to gawp at. These include the City of Truro, the first steam engine to pass, albeit unofficially, the 100mph barrier, and the ground-breaking Deltic diesel locomotive, which in its heyday, made the journey from London to Newcastle and Scotland.

I was particularly intrigued by the 1847 Stockton and Darlington carriage. Built like a highway stagecoach, it has a rooftop guard's seat open to all weathers. Another unexpected pleasure was the sight of the giant, beautiful, North-Eastern Railway Snow Plough No.12, as tactile as any modern sculpture and destined to be stroked by countless visitors.

But the displays don't remain static. Stock regularly comes and goes. The Flying Scotsman made an appearance at the opening of Locomotion in October. The balance between reverence for engineering and the desire to engage the interest of children is always difficult, particularly in transport museums.

This museum has struck that balance better than most. The interactive artwork, workbenches and play areas complement, rather than dominate, the main displays.

The site is linked to the previous Timothy Hackworth Museum by path, rail and an environmentally friendly, bio-diesel eco-bus. The original Hackworth material and memorabilia is, I trust, safely secured, for his house has been gutted and is now filled with lively display boards charting the history of Shildon. I felt a twinge of regret, but suspect that the change was inevitable.

In another building, stands Hackworth's original locomotive Sans Pareil. It was built in 1829 to compete with Robert Stephenson's Rocket locomotive in the Rainhill Trials, which were used to decide the method of operating the world's first intercity passenger railway between Liverpool and Manchester.

During the trials, a Sans Pareil cylinder blew (ironically, it was made by Stephenson's company), leaving the track clear for the Rocket.

Visitors can ride behind a replica of Sans Pareil and feel the exhilarating terror of those pioneer days. 'We were put in a truck and were more exposed than in cattle trailers,' recorded an early traveller. 'There was not a bit of shelter from the driving rain or sparks from the engine chimney, which were very plentiful.'

There is, in the wealth of artefacts at Shildon, a great opportunity to deepen our understanding of social history - when the steam engine was first put on wheels in its tiny metal box, the world changed forever.

Shildon can also reclaim the lost pride in our railways, and now, through the museum, the town can once again celebrate those inventive revolutionaries of the railways - Hackworth, Trevithick and the Stephensons. Please NRM, don't let in those reactionaries, Thomas the Tank Engine and friends.

Peter Lewis is a writer and a past director of Beamish, The North of England Open Air Museum