There has been a noticeable increase over recent months in the number of photographs of steam trains appearing in the two newspapers I read, The Times and the Daily Telegraph.

They make a welcome change, in the case of the second, from studies of Helen Mirren and Judi Dench. No doubt editors have come to realise that steam engines are popular with readers ‘of a certain age’ – sadly almost the only readers that newspapers have left, at least in their print editions. Many thousands of us were members of the Ian Allan Locospotters’ Club in our day.

The popularity of the photographs might be even greater if more emphasis were placed on showing the locomotive itself rather than the whole train, smoke pluming from the front, within the context of a landscape. The Settle and Carlisle line, with its various viaducts and stunning scenery, is a favourite location. Rail buffs like to see engines close up, as illustrated above, if not necessarily with a human dimension to the shot.

A photograph in last Wednesday’s Times accorded to the usual style in showing us a maroon Jubilee 4-6-0 hauling a rake of coaches across the arches of the Ribblehead viaduct. It followed conventional practice, too, in carrying a caption guaranteed to irritate anyone who knows a bit about trains. The ignorance shown by newspaper sub-editors in this area is matched only by the many howlers they deliver where people’s titles are concerned. Are there no experts any more?

The caption this time told us that “the Dalesman steam engine” was pictured crossing the viaduct. This was nonsense. There is no steam engine called the Dalesman; this is the name of the whole train, composed of the locomotive and carriages.

Though the engine (an acceptable synonym for locomotive) was too far from the camera for me to be able to see its name or number, it seemed almost certain to me from its livery that this was No 45699 Galatea, behind which I made the same journey to Carlisle last year. A check on the internet proved this to be the case.

This fine engine was designed for the London, Midland and Scottish Railway by Sir William Stanier, whose nephew Robert was a much-respected head of Magdalen College School. Bob once thrilled locospotters there with an invitation for his uncle to address the pupils.

That locomotive and train names should be mixed up by people arises in large part from the fact that one of the most famous of the former, Flying Scotsman, is the same as an equally well-known example of the latter. Note there is no ‘The’ in the name, though there is where the train is concerned. Most named trains, but very few named engines, are (or in most cases were) called ‘The’ something or other. There are well-known exceptions, though, including Atlantic Coast Express, Brighton Belle and Cheltenham Spa Express.

Flying Scotsman, the engine, actually carried its name for a few months, from March 1924, before name boards were placed on the train, which it occasionally, but far from exclusively, hauled. Its most famous exploit came in 1934 when it was alleged to have reached 100mph descending Essendine bank on the East Cost main line, though the claim was persuasively challenged by a famous expert of the day, Cecil J. Allen, who was timing on board the train.

A footbridge a few miles south of Essendine was a favourite trainspotting venue for me in the late 1950s. There I would thrill to the sight not only of The Flying Scotsman but of a host of other named trains that plied the route, powered by one of Sir Nigel Gresley or A.H. Peppercorn’s gleaming green pacifics. These included The Elizabethan, non-stop from Edinburgh to King’s Cross, The Talisman and The Aberdonian.

Oxford, by contrast, had very few named trains. The only two that spring to mind are The Pines Express, linking Bournemouth and Manchester, and The Cathedrals Express, from Paddington to Worcester and Hereford.

The latter lost its status as a named train almost exactly 50 years ago, on June 12, 1965, though it was revived in the era of privatisation and still runs today, sadly without headboards.