Interested as I am in the industrial heritage of this country, the named of the titans of engineering roll easily off the tongue: Thomas Telford, Isambard Kingdom Brunel, The Stephensons, George and Robert, Thomas Bouch... well, maybe not that one. Then my friend Evelyn announced that one of her esteemed forebears worked for William, nae Sir William, Arrol. Who he, I wondered? It was a name that resided in the depths of the old grey matter yet, other than knowing he was an engineer, a ken heehaw else. Then I found his mug-shot on the Clydesdale Bank five-pound note. Yes, I know – but I haven't seen much folding money just lately. Obviously, this was a man of note: not just the fiver. Clearly I needed to investigate.
Who built the Forth Bridge? Baker and Fowler are the headliners; the architect and structural engineer, respectively. Now, it's all very well displaying brilliant ingenuity in your design on your drawing board and doing huge amounts of complex calculations to prove that it will, in theory, stand up under the weight of two trains crossing it in the teeth of a North Sea hurricane. It's another challenge altogether actually realising the design; when it's a structure that has its foundations 100' below sea-level and rises to over 300' above sea-level; and in a environment of panic and distrust following the collapse of the Tay Bridge in 1879; and using a fairly new material. Arrol had tendered for the contract to build Bouch's proposed Forth suspension bridge. Naturally this project was cancelled. Nevertheless, he tendered for the new contract and successfully embarked on the task of assembling 50,000 tons of steel, using 6.5 million rivets, into a stunning piece of artistry that still, 130 years later, draws the crowds in admiration.
So who was Sir William? Founder of William Arrol & Co, engineers, Dalmarnock, Glasgow. The Dalmarnock Iron Works was set up in 1872 with £85 that the young William had saved working as a jobber blacksmith. He believed very much in hard work, pounding the streets, knocking on doors and never giving up. The company started out making boilers and girders, and those girders got bigger and bigger culminating in the 1,730' specimens found on the above structure.
Not all of his projects carry the same charisma. The spans of Glasgow Central, carrying multiple tracks over Broomielaw and the Clyde since 1875, are rather prosaic and provide shelter for many a druggie and homeless rough sleeper. Nevertheless it is engineering on a grand scale and is fundamental to the functionality of urban and national rail services.
Another early example of his work is the Bothwell Viaduct which spans the River Clyde near Blantyre and carries the West Coast Mainline between London and Glasgow. It was built alongside an earlier incarnation that was becoming inadequate for the task in hand. This was completed in 1878. Of course we all know what happened in the following year, referred to above. A certain amount of paranoia ensued and so it was testament to his growing reputation that Arrol was entrusted with the construction of the replacement bridge. This was to a design of William Barlow, with a double, rather than the previous single, track deck and about 10 feet lower than Bouch's bridge. Sadly, the Tay Bridge is rather utilitarian and devoid of any interesting architectural features. And that is the whole point. It needed to reassure rather than to wow! And Arrol had that honour.
There is another Bouch connection. Less known was his South Esk Viaduct at Montrose. Naturally, after 1879 it came under the spotlight and was found wanting. So it was immediately closed to all passenger trains (drivers, firemen and guards of freight trains were expendable!). Arrol built the replacement. Add Tower Bridge across the Thames in London to an impressive portfolio from the period and suddenly this was a man in demand.
As a bit of local interest for those of us living in North Perthshire, we have a cantilever bridge at Dalginross, Comrie (1905) and, in Glen Lyon, a steel structure over the Keltney Burn, near Fortingall, masonry work courtesy of a John McNaughton of Aberfeldy (1896).
Whilst bridges were his 'thing' (Redheugh Bridge, Wear Bridge, transporter bridges in Middlesbrough and Warrington, Nile Bridge in Egypt and Hawkesbury Bridge in Australia are a few more examples) he was not a one-trick pony. Arrol was instrumental in devising processes that are in use today. He invented the hydraulic riveter, improved drilling equipment, developed the use of floating pontoons and pioneered the idea of building spans on land to be rolled out over the gap. He built workshops, including his own at Dalmarnock – covering 17 acres. He constructed the gantries at the Harland and Wolff shipyard under which the three 'ics' were built – the Titanic, Olympic and Britannic. He built cranes of all shapes and sizes, financed Arrol-Johnston Cars, one of which went to Antarctica with Earnest Shackleton, and dabbled in the workings of the establishment as a Liberal Unionist MP for South Ayrshire.
At a personal level, he married three times, outliving his first two wives. He was able to purchase, in 1880, a des-res at 10 Oakley Terrace, Dennistoun, Glasgow. This was convenient for work, but all magnates of industry need their country retreat and Seafield House, south of Ayr, with views across the Firth of Clyde towards Arran, became that for Sir William. He designed, with the help of architects Clarke and Bell, an asymmetrical Italianate mansion where he could enjoy his interest in art, literature and music, as well as being within commuting distance of Dalmarnock. Sadly it now lies in ruins, roofless and derelict, left on the critical list, without palliative care, by the NHS. A society has recently been formed to try and rescue it.
You might be thinking at this point that he came from a privileged, well-educated background. Wrong! He started work, aged 9, as a piecer in a cotton mill in his home-town of Houston, Renfrewshire, in order to contribute to family finances. Aged 13, he procured an apprenticeship as a blacksmith and, in the evenings, paid for classes in arithmetic, engineering and mechanics. And the rest is history as they say, whoever 'they' are. Thank you Evelyn for inspiring a fascinating romp through the marvels of Scottish engineering. I'll never pass through Dalmarnock station again in ignorance. As a postscript, I mentioned that certain lives seem expendable. On that fateful December night in 1879, 75 people were on the train that plunged into the Tay. All died and that was rightly declared to be a tragedy. Fourteen men drowned in the rebuilding project and as for the Forth Bridge, the official death toll is 57, although this is recognised as being a bit optimistic. Maybe 73 is nearer the mark given the bodies never found. These were not regarded as tragedies but the price of progress - collateral damage. Men going about their lawful business so as to put food upon the tables at home in exchange for good pay, a jolly decent employer who even provided work clothing and heated canteens, and unavoidably horrendous working conditions. How does one differentiate between the tragic and the collateral? I guess it's all to do with the direction of flow of the money. Is it flowing in or out? Fares or wages.
I note that Network Rail currently has a planning application lodged with the City of Edinburgh Council to turn the Forth Bridge into an 'experience'. Although the proposal is to allow punters to walk to the top of the south tower, they will be required to wear safety harnesses. It will be an experience but not fully authentic. Modern Health and Safety legislation means that daddy has a reasonable chance of coming home from work. Lives are expended in different ways these days – and in far greater numbers. Different eras! Sir William was 'fortunate' enough to die before the meaningless slaughter of WW1 broke forth in all its futility and fury. He rests in peace in Woodside Cemetery, Paisley.
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