Man of Iron: Thomas Telford and the Building of Britain

370 Pages·2017·4.16 MB·English

by  Julian Glover

MAN OF IRON
To Matthew
MAN OF IRON
Thomas Telford and the Building of Britain
Julian Glover
CONTENTS
Map
Introduction
Preface
1 The Early Shepherd
2 Eskdale Tam
3 The Great Mart
4 Young Pulteney
5 Something Like Bonaparte
6 The Stream in the Sky
7 The Appearance of Plenty
8 My Scotch Surveys
9 Telford’s Tatar
10 From Sea to Sea
11 The Enjoyment of Splendid Orders
12 A Happy Life
13 The Colossus of Roads
14 Pontifex Maximus
15 24 Abingdon Street
16 These Railroad Projectors
17 A Blessing on Him
Appendix: Selected Works of Thomas Telford
Notes
Select Bibliography
Acknowledgements
Index
A Note on the Author
Plate Section

INTRODUCTION
Menai in deep winter, well past midnight. To the east, the cold heights of
Snowdonia; to the west, Anglesey and the Irish Sea. The wind was up, the tide
was racing on the rocks below and rain was on its way. It was ordinarily no
place for people without thick cloaks, tall boots and a pressing need to be out of
their beds: but this night was different. There was a crowd, shouts, jostling, the
stamping of hooves and the velvet smell of sweating horses. Bright lights
reached down to the dark water that had separated Anglesey from the mainland
for perhaps 4,000 years until this moment but would never do so again.
The modern world was arriving in North Wales that night in 1826. Everything
was changing. And Thomas Telford was there. Thomas Telford was the man
who made it happen. It was his new bridge people had come to see. His bridge
they wanted to cross for the first time. And what they saw stretching into the
darkness was indeed extraordinary: a structure as bold as anything built in
Britain since the Romans, like a great blade cutting between water and sky.
Technology was being tested to the limit that night. So was courage. No one
could know for sure if the iron chains which held the bridge high above the
Menai Strait would be safe; if Telford’s design would be proved; if a
mathematical dream would come true.
And now, from the road to the east, came the sound of hurry: iron-rimmed
wheels and horses’ hooves galloping on rough gravel, racing to keep time. The
Royal London and Holyhead coach was heading for the port: its scarlet sides and
the royal crest proclaiming the right to carry the precious mailbag for Dublin. As
it pulled up outside the Bangor Ferry Inn its exhausted horses were unharnessed
and a fresh team attached. A man stepped forward with an air of command. He
climbed quickly onto the top of the coach and sat down next to David Davies,
the coachman on duty that night.
The man’s name was William Provis and he had overseen the building of the
Menai Bridge under Telford’s instruction. Now, he broke his momentous news.
This was to be the first coach to cross the new structure. Briefly, there was
confusion: even an argument. Davies and his guard, William Read, resisted.
Orders were orders, they said. They insisted they needed written instructions to