2 responses to “Tay Bridge Disaster #OnThisDay”

1. 

   ArtyHetty

   December 28, 2025 at 7:39 pm

   I didn’t know the locomotive had been salvaged and reused, yikes.

   Patrick Matthew, 1790-1894, Scottish and mostly unknown and unheard of (?) commercial fruit grower and hybridiser, forrester and all round general knowledge guy, who lived at Gordiehill, in Perthshire, warned the then PM, Gladstone, that the proposed site of the bridge was not safe and nor was the type of iron to be used.
   He wrote to the local papers as well, his warnings were ridiculed.

   It’s all written down in a book I have called, ‘Patrick Matthew and Natural Selection’, by W.J Dempster, published 1983.
   There are various websites which have info on Matthew, who coined the term, ‘the natural process of selection’ which by all accounts Darwin took as his own idea at the time, re origin of species. That’s another sorry tale of a Scottish scientist (he grew apples hybrids in his orchard) being sidelined ignored and in this case, plagarised.

   The ‘North British Railway’, were at that time determined to ‘dominate it’s rival, the Caledonian Railway, for control of Eastern Scotland’. It was the NBR who insisted on the site for the Tay bridge. :-/

   Such a terrible tradegy, Patrick Matthew’s warnings about the Tay bridge were not taken seriously 🙁

   Loading…

   Reply
2. 

   elisabeth.sidler@mail.ch

   January 1, 2026 at 11:30 am

   One of the classic German poets of the 19th century, Theodor Fontane, wrote a ballad about the Tay bridge disaster which made it into the poetry collection for schools.
   Of course you may be awarenof that, but just in case I have translated it here.
   He chose Macbeth’s three witches for the first and last stanza.

   German original:

   Die Brücke am Tay

   „Wann treffen wir drei wieder zusamm‘?“
   „Um die siebente Stund‘, am Brückendamm.“
   „Am Mittelpfeiler.“
   „Ich lösch die Flamm‘.“
   „Ich mit.“
   „Ich komme vom Norden her.“
   „Und ich vom Süden.“
   „Und ich vom Meer.“

   „Hei, das gibt ein Ringelreihn,
   und die Brücke muß in den Grund hinein.“
   „Und der Zug, der in die Brücke tritt
   um die siebente Stund‘?“
   „Ei, der muß mit.“
   „Muß mit.“
   „Tand, Tand
   ist das Gebild von Menschenhand.“

   Auf der Norderseite, das Brückenhaus –
   alle Fenster sehen nach Süden aus,
   und die Brücknersleut‘, ohne Rast und Ruh
   und in Bangen sehen nach Süden zu,
   sehen und warten, ob nicht ein Licht
   übers Wasser hin „ich komme“ spricht,
   „ich komme, trotz Nacht und Sturmesflug,
   ich, der Edinburger Zug.“

   Und der Brückner jetzt: „Ich seh einen Schein
   am andern Ufer. Das muß er sein.
   Nun, Mutter, weg mit dem bangen Traum,
   unser Johnie kommt und will seinen Baum,
   und was noch am Baume von Lichtern ist,
   zünd alles an wie zum heiligen Christ,
   der will heuer zweimal mit uns sein, –
   und in elf Minuten ist er herein.“

   Und es war der Zug. Am Süderturm
   keucht er vorbei jetzt gegen den Sturm,
   und Johnie spricht: „Die Brücke noch!
   Aber was tut es, wir zwingen es doch.
   Ein fester Kessel, ein doppelter Dampf,
   die bleiben Sieger in solchem Kampf,
   und wie’s auch rast und ringt und rennt,
   wir kriegen es unter: das Element.

   Und unser Stolz ist unsre Brück‘;
   ich lache, denk ich an früher zurück,
   an all den Jammer und all die Not
   mit dem elend alten Schifferboot;
   wie manche liebe Christfestnacht
   hab ich im Fährhaus zugebracht
   und sah unsrer Fenster lichten Schein
   und zählte und konnte nicht drüben sein.“

   Auf der Norderseite, das Brückenhaus –
   alle Fenster sehen nach Süden aus,
   und die Brücknersleut‘ ohne Rast und Ruh
   und in Bangen sehen nach Süden zu;
   denn wütender wurde der Winde Spiel,
   und jetzt, als ob Feuer vom Himmel fiel,
   erglüht es in niederschießender Pracht
   überm Wasser unten… Und wieder ist Nacht.

   „Wann treffen wir drei wieder zusamm‘?“
   „Um Mitternacht, am Bergeskamm.“
   „Auf dem hohen Moor, am Erlenstamm.“
   „Ich komme.“
   „Ich mit.“
   „Ich nenn euch die Zahl.“
   „Und ich die Namen.“
   „Und ich die Qual.“
   „Hei!
   Wie Splitter brach das Gebälk entzwei.“
   „Tand, Tand
   ist das Gebilde von Menschenhand“

   My translation (I didn’t even try to make it poemlike…)

   The Bridge on the Tay

   “When shall we three meet again?”
   “At the seventh hour, at the bridges’ dam.”
   “At the middle pillar.”
   “I’ll douse the flame.”
   “I’ll help.”
   “I’ll come from the North.”
   “And I from the South.”
   “And I from the sea.”

   “Heya! That’ll be a ring a ring o’ roses,
   and the bridge must into the ground.”
   “And the train that enters the bridge
   at the seventh hour?”
   “Well, it’ll have to go too.”
   “Go too.”
   “Knick-knacks, that’s what they are,
   the things made by the hands of men!”

   On the northern side, the bridge warden’s house –
   all it’s windows are looking south,
   and the wardens, without rest nor peace
   and in worry look out to the south,
   look out and wait for a light to speak
   over the water: “I am coming,
   in spite of night and raging storm,
   I, the train from Edinburgh.”

   And the warden now: “I see a light
   on the other bank. That must be it.
   Now, Mother, away with the fearful dream –
   our Johnny is coming and wants his tree,
   and what is still on the tree of the lights,
   light them all just like for the Holy Christ;
   This year, he wants to be with us twice,
   and in eleven minutes he will have arrived.”

   And it was the train.
   At the southern tower he passes,
   puffing now against the gale,
   And Johnny says:” Now just the bridge!
   But no matter, we’ll push it through.
   A sturdy boiler and double the steam,
   they stay the victors in such a fight,
   and as much as it may race with breakneck speed,
   we’ll have victory over the Element.

   And our pride it is, our bridge –
   I laugh thinking back to older times,
   to all the sorrow and all the hardship
   with the miserable old ferry boat!
   How many dear Christmas Eve
   did I have to stay in the ferryman’s house
   and saw our windows’ shining light,
   and counted, and couldn’t be over there!”

   On the northern side the bridge warden’s house –
   all it’s windows are facing south,
   and the wardens, without rest nor peace
   and in worry look out to the south,
   because angrier grew the game of the winds,
   and now – as if fire fell from the sky –
   it glows in downwards shooting glory
   above the waters… And night falls again.

   “When shall we three meet again?”
   “At midnight, on the mountain crest.”
   “On the high moors, at the trunk of the alder tree.”
   “I’ll be there.”
   “Me too.”
   “I’ll tell you the number.”
   “And I’ll tell you the pain.”
   “Heya! Like splinters did the timberwork split!”
   “All but knick-knacks, that’s what they are,
   the things made by the hands of men!”

   Loading…

   Reply