The Ghost of the Halifax High Level Railway

Back in 2017, I shared some snapshots from a 2014 trek along the ghostly remains of the Halifax High Level Railway. For ages, I've yearned to retrace those steps, especially since my collection of historic photos – depicting the line in its operational glory or just after its demise – has grown significantly. My vision? To weave together a compelling "then and now" narrative. While COVID-19 unfortunately scuppered plans for an early 2020 re-walk, I couldn't wait to bring this forgotten route back to life. So, I stitched together a virtual journey on YouTube, guiding viewers along the tracks from its terminus at St. Paul's Station, King Cross, all the way to Shay Lane, Holmfield, where it once met the Queensbury line. It's a blend of those cherished old images and my own 2014 captures, presented in chronological order of the route itself.

Click here to subscribe and view my YouTube channel for more videos like this

Conceived in the ambitious railway boom of 1884, the Halifax High Level Railway was destined for grandeur, envisioned as a vital artery connecting Queensbury to Huddersfield and beyond. Yet, like many grand designs, its reach far exceeded its grasp. The grand vision crumbled, leaving behind a mere three-mile spur that cautiously opened to Pellon Station in August 1890, extending to St. Paul's a month later.

Despite its initial promise, the line never truly captured the hearts of passengers. A paltry 1.3-mile journey to Halifax Old Station became an arduous, 30-minute ordeal, complete with a change at Holmfield. The arrival of trams at Pellon and King Cross by the turn of the century sealed the line's fate, siphoning away the few remaining passengers. A planned station at Wheatley, nestled between the tunnel and viaduct, remained a phantom, replaced by a humble goods yard for Webster's brewery. Passenger services, first withdrawn in 1917, flickered back to life briefly after the war, only to fade entirely by 1927, save for a few nostalgic excursions. The final passenger train, a somber procession, departed St. Paul's on a Friday in February 1963.

Though passenger dreams evaporated, the Halifax High Level Railway found its niche in freight, a steady stream of goods rumbling along its tracks until June 1960, when the final whistle blew, and the line fell silent. Station buildings were razed, tracks lifted, and the brief life of the Halifax High Level Railway came to an end.

Today, echoes of this lost line remain. The magnificent Wheatley Viaduct, a towering, 10-arch structure, still dominates the landscape. The western entrance of the tunnel stands as a silent sentinel, though its eastern counterpart was consumed by a housing estate, a lost opportunity for what could have been a stunning bridleway connecting communities. The former sites of St. Paul's, Pellon, and Holmfield Junction have succumbed to industrial sprawl, or in the case of St. Paul's, a forgotten, dilapidated car showroom. Many of the original bridges at Hopwood Lane, Gibbet Street, Hanson Lane, Battinson Road, and Keighley Road, though now filled in, still stubbornly mark the line's path. Others, like those at Pellon Lane, Brackenbed Road, and Wood Lane, stand proudly across their roads, alongside footbridge remnants at Field Side and Church Lane. Beyond Wheatley, the tunnel's airshaft at Cousin Lane and a lonely abutment on Shay Lane offer tantalizing glimpses into the railway's past.

Imagine the possibilities if this forgotten railway had been transformed into a vibrant bridleway, a green corridor weaving through the heart of Halifax, potentially even linking with the ambitious Queensbury Tunnel cycleway.

Clicking any of the images below should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

Field Side Tunnel Path

Brackenbed Lane Bridge

Wheatley Viaduct

Wheatley Tunnel Entrance

Inside Wheatley Tunnel. I never entered the tunnel this was taken from the doorway.

Wheatley Tunnel Air Shaft.

Remains of Shay Lane Bridge.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Photo4Me and Clickasnap using the links below. Your support means a lot!

All the pictures remain the copyright of Colin Green.

Wainhouse Terrace: A Victorian Gem in Halifax

Nestled between the bustling A646 and A58, in the heart of King Cross, near Halifax, lies a silent witness to a bygone era: Wainhouse Terrace. This Grade II listed structure, a remnant of a once-thriving Victorian housing development, stands as a poignant reminder of the area's dramatic transformation in the 1970s.

Imagine, if you will, the bustling streets, the close-knit community that once filled the back-to-back terraces that lined this hillside. Today, only the terrace itself remains, a lone sentinel amidst the modern roads and redeveloped landscape. The vision of John Wainhouse, the same man who gifted us the iconic Wainhouse Tower, this terrace boasts a unique square tower, a spiral staircase winding its way upwards, culminating in a panoramic balcony overlooking the breathtaking Ryburn Valley.

My journey to Wainhouse Terrace in November 2013, captured on my trusty Samsung Galaxy Tablet, revealed a site steeped in history and a touch of melancholy. The echoes of the past seemed to linger in the air, a stark contrast to the roar of traffic on the adjacent roads.

The story of Wainhouse Terrace is one of both preservation and neglect. After the demolition of the surrounding housing in the early 70s, the council wisely transformed the terrace into a viewing area in 1973, offering a glimpse of the stunning valley scenery. For a time, it was cherished and maintained. However, the narrative took a sad turn in March 2008 when the council sold it for a mere £76,000.

Since then, time and the elements have taken their toll. The terrace has fallen into disrepair, a shadow of its former glory. It's a heartbreaking sight, a piece of history slowly crumbling. A glimmer of hope shone in 2016, when a dedicated local volunteer group valiantly attempted to reclaim the site, clearing overgrown vegetation and attempting to stem the tide of decay.

This brings me to my personal vision for Wainhouse Terrace. It possesses an undeniable charm, a unique character that begs to be resurrected. I envision a vibrant market area, a bustling hub of local crafts and produce, or perhaps a tranquil garden, a haven of peace amidst the urban landscape. Imagine the spiral staircase, its ancient stones echoing with the footsteps of visitors, leading to a balcony alive with the chatter of marketgoers or the quiet contemplation of garden enthusiasts.

The terrace, recently re-listed for sale, presents a unique opportunity. It's a chance to breathe new life into a piece of Halifax history, to transform it into a community asset. It's a chance to honour John Wainhouse's legacy and create a space that enriches the lives of locals and visitors alike.

Wainhouse Terrace is more than just bricks and mortar; it's a story waiting to be retold, a canvas awaiting a new masterpiece. Will someone step forward and answer its silent plea? Let's hope so. Because this forgotten gem deserves a second chance to shine.

Clicking any of the images below should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

Thanks for looking and please take a moment to share and follow me on social media, and check out my portfolio's on Photo4Me and ClickAsnap via the link below.

All the pictures remain the copyright of Colin Green.