Death, Dynamite and Disaster

by Rosa Matheson

  Another reason for knowing the accurate position of the carriages was to ascertain where the highest concentration of people were. The majority of the passengers were third class, there were only eight passengers in second class and none reported in first.33 This knowledge would have been helpful for the trawling boats and divers in their search. Would the bodies be concentrated immediately behind the engine in two carriages, or in the middle or back of the train? They would not necessarily find bodies within those carriages, but such knowledge may have helped them to begin their search where the highest concentration was thought to be. This is mostly likely what happened because the searchers would probably have been acting on the information given by ‘the man on the ground’ i.e. the stationmaster, rather than the later ‘official’ version.

  The top diagram shows the remains of the train laying within the span between pier Nos 4 and 5 of the bridge, giving the ‘official’ version of train layout, as stated by Dugald Drummond, the North British Railway’s locomotive superintendent. Allan Rodgers of the North British Railway Study Group argues that the ‘original’ version is the correct version (shown in plan), as reported by diver Cox and others. (Latter courtesy of Allan Rodgers)

  The first carriage to be found was the first-class carriage which was still standing upright, as were the other carriages to the front of the train. The last part of the train, the substantial third-class carriage, was finally found on Monday 26 January 1880, by Diver Fox when he descended from the barge exactly opposite the 4th pier. This carriage was lying on its side with the ends pointing to east and west and all the doors still shut. Much of the window glass was smashed and the carriage roof was off. To determine what class of carriage it was, Fox had attached a rope to one of the doors and, with the aid of the crane, it was pulled off and up. The door appeared quite new. This was the heavy rear third class and it, along with the remains of the shattered second-class carriage and guard’s van, were eventually raised on Tuesday 6 April. The three vehicles had become separated from the rest of the train. Now all the carriages had been raised.

  The People

  Debris began arriving on the beach just a short time after the accident. The first things to wash ashore were the mail bags, some half a dozen, addressed ‘From London to Dundee’. Immediately below Broughty Ferry Castle they found: a letter rack for keeping the letters in the guard’s van; a tool box, presumed to be the driver’s; the front part of a carriage with ‘second’ written upon it; and several window frames. Along with these were several items of personal clothing.

  As the search went on, the items recovered from the waters and the shores were gathered in the parcels office at Tay Bridge Station to await identification. The everyday nature of the items bring home the human side of the situation, reminding us that these belonged to real people who had walked the earth just a short time before:

  A lady’s handbag, containing a Bible (without a name), a pair of spectacles in a case, a purse and a bunch of keys, all later identified as belonging to Anne Cruickshanks.

  The guard’s basket, containing two neatly rolled hand signals.

  The cap of David Johnston, the guard, and the caps of the engine driver, David Mitchell, and John Marshall, the fireman.

  A vest and a dress shirt rolled in a handkerchief.

  A red tablecloth, two chemises and a pair of stockings tied in a handkerchief.

  A packet of about 2lb of tea.

  A girl’s muff.

  An empty hamper from Leicester for Montrose – an invoice in the hamper showed that it had contained thirty Leicester pies.

  A man’s felt hat.

  A pair of spectacles in a case.

  Two chemises and a pair of stockings tied in a handkerchief.

  A gold watch was found in a box in one of the mailbags which had been washed ashore at Broughty Ferry. It belonged to Captain Thomas Nicoll of Dundee, and had been presented to him for his gallant acts for a shipwrecked crew of the American schooner Bennington. The watch had suffered a great deal from the salt water. Mr George Jack, secretary of the Local Marine Board, informed the Board of Trade, who replied that he should have the watch mended at their expense, which was done.

  Seeing such personal, familiar items on display must have been disturbing, and incredibly distressing for the families and friends looking on with dread and even hopeless hope for news of their loved ones. The items were all placed under the charge of customs officers.

  A ‘search and rescue’ operation was immediately set up by the Harbour Master, Captain William Robertson, whereupon he brought in boats – local fishing and whaling boats – and hired divers to go out to look for the bodies, the train and the bridge. Initially there were just three divers involved. Two were employed by the Dundee Harbour Trustees – John Cocks (he was the first diver to go down), and Peter Harley a local man who lived in Tayport, a very experienced diver – and the third was Edward Simpson, employed by the NBR. (Harley and Simpson had previously been used, in August 1873, to rescue and recover workers’ bodies from down a shaft after an explosion at Pier 54. Six men had died.) There were soon more. Another diver, William Norley, a diver on board the gunboat HMS Lord Warden (the coastguard ship of the Firth of Forth), was sent down by his commander Captain Brine. Others were John Gray of Dundee, previously a naval reserve; John Barclay, who came up from North Shields looking for work, taken on by the NB, and Henry Watts, of Sunderland.

  Henry (Harry) Watts (53) had spent all his life on the water or diving. He was something of a hero and well- known in Sunderland for good deeds, as well as his diving prowess. Over his lifetime he saved thirty-six lives. It is said that he ‘did good without any thought of personal return’, but he received many medals and honours in recognition of his bravery. Henry first used the diving bell in 1864. During his diving life he had many bad experiences and near-death escapes.

  This dark and gloomy image shows divers in their cumbersome gear set up for ‘search and rescue’ operations. Whilst the people were the first priority, recovery of the bridge and the train was of vital importance in order to ascertain what had happened – and prevent its reoccurrence. Trawlermen and fishermen and their boats were hired in to help with the rescue.

  One of the worst of his tasks as a diver, he said, was the recovery of dead bodies, a task which he always willingly undertook but would accept no fee or reward. At the time of the disaster, Watts was working for the River Wear Commissioners. Mr C.H. Dodds, the General Manager of the River Wear Commissioners in Sunderland, heard the news and went to his Chairman, Sir James Laing, and suggested they ask Henry Watts to go to Dundee to help. Watts agreed, offering his services for free.

  The diving operations were frustrating and hazardous. Unlike the relative freedom of movement that we have today, divers of those times were greatly constrained by their equipment, which was heavy and cumbersome. They wore breast plates and lead weights on their chests and back, each weighing 28lb. In addition to this, they carried 14lb in weight on the bottom of their boots. They also had to protect the seal between their heavy airtight helmets and their suits, and to be careful of the material of their suits – Divers Gray and Watts experienced problems with ripping, and their suits filled up with freezing cold water, which was extremely dangerous for them. Needless to say they had limited vision and mobility. They, and the people on the boats watching out for them, had also to be aware, at all times, to protect their air pipes and communication lines because their lives depended on it. On top of all this, they worked in hazardous conditions, moving amongst the tumbled, dismantled columns, the broken jagged parts of the bridge, ragged iron and all sorts of debris from the train. It was also horrendously cold in and out of the water and they would have had to contend with the strong ebb and flow of the tide. Because the waters were thickly murky, especially at low tide, the divers talked of having to ‘grope’ and ‘feel’ their way.

  Harry Watts did not have a good start. ‘Pushing his way in the liquid darkness he stumbled upon the telegr
aph wires which had come down with the bridge, and in a moment he was entangled in them.’ Luckily he had a new sharp knife (a must for every diver) and was able to cut himself free. He remembered the whole thing vividly – the complete darkness, ‘the monster remnants of the wrecked train and bridge that could topple on top of him at any moment and crush him to death’:

  The water was sometimes running like a mill race, and was so full of mud and scour that it was impossible to see anything when a few feet below the surface … [we worked] entirely by the sense of touch.

  … I sent up a few things and then I got into a third class carriage to look for some of the bodies, and I went through it from end to end on my hands and knees, but it was empty. In doing this a piece of iron on the carriage tore open the sleeve of my dress, which got half full of water before I could get up to put it right.

  … it was dreadfully heavy work, and disappointing too, owing to the state of the river and the difficulties of working amongst the huge heaps of stuff that lay at the bottom of the river. One day I came upon the engine of the train, but I dare not go in to search it, there were so many things to get entangled with.34

  The divers had more luck with finding the train and the bridge than they did with finding the bodies. Of the first twenty two bodies, all but the first were recovered by grappling. By the end of work on Thursday 8 January, a total of eighteen bodies had been recovered, and by Saturday 31 January, thirty-two bodies were retrieved.

  The Children

  Looking at the various lists of the dead, some things immediately leap out at one. There are nine children (under the legal age of adulthood at that time, which was twenty-one years).

  The youngest is little Bella Neish, who was just four years, nine months. She was travelling with her father, David (36), a teacher and registrar, of Lochee, dressed in her pill-box hat and high buttoned boots. The trip to visit a relative was much against her mother’s wishes, it was reported in the paper, but David so wanted the company of his ‘favourite daughter’ that he managed to persuade the mother to let her go. Bella, the thirty-second body to be recovered, was found on the beach at Wormit on Tuesday 27 January (hers was the only body recovered upstream of the bridge). This was almost three weeks after the recovery of her father (who was recovered on 7 January by the Mars), and her funeral took place just two days later. She was interred at Balgay Hill Cemetery, and left behind not just a grieving mother, but several siblings too. Her mother claimed the one penny brooch Bella had been wearing.35

  Then there are the brothers, Robert (6) and David (8) Livie Watson, who were travelling with their father, Robert Watson, a moulder, and were returning from a visit to friends. Mr Watson was one of five brothers, one of whom was blind. Watson was known for his support of the Dundee Blind Institute, and in his pocket was a programme of a concert recently given by the charity.36 It is reported that his poor wife, who had been against the visit, wishing to postpone it until the New Year, was so overcome with grief and shock that she had ‘lost her reason and had to be admitted to the asylum’. Father and sons were all interred at the Eastern Necropolis, Dundee.

  David McDonald (10), who is identified as a ‘schoolboy’, was also travelling with his father, William (41), a saw miller. Dressed in his ‘Sunday best’, he wore a check wincey shirt, brown ribbed stockings and a mourning cap (there had been a death in the family).37 Somehow, it is comforting that he was found, by the ship Mars, in the same vicinity as his father, but he was not recovered until two days after, on 9 January.

  All the other children are identified as being ‘in jobs’.

  Elizabeth Brown, just thirteen, is described as being a ‘tobacco spinner’. (The ‘big cigar’ was a popular smoke during Victorian times and spinning and rolling the tobacco was mostly women’s work.)There were four manufacturers of tobacco in Dundee at that time, and ‘Lizzie’, as she was sometimes called, worked at Fairweather’s of Murraygate. She is amongst those who have never been recovered, along with her grandmother, Mrs Elizabeth Mann (62).

  James Peebles (15) was an ‘apprentice grocer’ with Mr Harris of Newport. His badly decomposed body was discovered very early on Sunday 11 April (over three months after the event), by Hugh Johnstone, a mussel dredger. 38An NBR steamer was sent to collect the body and bring it to the Dundee Mortuary, where it was formally identified. A purse with 2s 6d and a verge watch without its case were found in the pockets. The watch had stopped at 7.17p.m.39 (Some sources state 7.16 p.m.)

  Margaret Kinnear (17) was, as were many young girls and women at that time, ‘in service’. A domestic servant, who had used her day off to visit her parents in Balmullo, Fifeshire, and was returning to Dundee. When she was recovered, by Captain Menzies of the Abertay Lightship,40 she was thought, and reported by the papers, to be ‘Mrs Nicoll, wife of a baker, body number 44’, but she was later correctly identified by her employer, Mr Robert Lee of 6 Shore Terrace, Dundee.

  The last boys, both eighteen, and both Williams, are William Threlfell, a confectioner, and William Veitch, described as ‘cabinetmaker’. It is highly unlikely that Veitch was actually a cabinetmaker at such a young age. It was a skilled trade and would have required an apprenticeship which would not have finished until he was twenty-one years old. He is much more likely to have been an apprentice to the trade. Veitch’s body, along with two others, was retrieved on Tuesday 13 January, and interred on the Thursday at the Eastern Necropolis, Dundee. The Eastern Necropolis was (is) an interdenominational council cemetery. Anybody being conveyed there by train probably travelled in the NBR’s own ‘hearse carriage’, sometimes irreverently called ‘corpse carriage’, attached to the end of a regular train.

  William Threlfell’s body was found almost abreast of the Mars ship. He had been to Edinburgh see his brother, a private in the Enniskillen Dragoons. William, known to be a devout boy, had in his pocket a book of Scriptures as well as several Christmas cards, presumably from his brother to family and friends. He also must have been part way through an apprenticeship to be a ‘confectioner,’ or sweet maker. (Unlike today when sweets are mass produced, the nineteenth century was a time for handmade confection. With the lowering of the price of sugar at that time, many ‘sweets’ as we know them today, particularly the boiled sweet type, became popular. With the growth of the new ‘middle-classes’ who had more disposable income, the demand for sweets increased. It would have been a fascinating job, allowing for creativity, experimentation and precision, and the satisfaction of having produced something that gave delight.) Threlfell was identified by his grief stricken mother. The poor woman, a widow, would have been wondering what would become of her since William, she told those around her, was her only support.41

  Those in their Twenties

  Another noticeable element from the lists is just how many of the travellers were in their twenties – twenty-nine in all, half of the known victims. Why were this group so mobile on a Sunday evening?

  This was the era of industrial expansion and migration from the land and villages to the towns and cities in hope of a better life and a regular income. Most of these would have left the family home to gain better employment. Sunday was the workers’ day off, and it would appear from numerous newspaper reports, that most of the young victims were on, or had been on, visits to family or friends. Travelling to see their parents had many uses. At this time there were no social services for the elderly, widowed mothers or needy siblings, so a top-up for their parents’ and grandparents’ income would have been welcome. It also served for family meetings, to enjoy home cooking, to get a change of clothing, and all the other things that modern day youths still do.42 What is also noticeable, looking at this group, is that they are mostly single and only five of them are women.

  David Watson (22), a commission merchant, (or assurance – what we now call an insurance – agent) was a partner in the firm of Wood and Watson, Baltic Street, Dundee. He is reported to have been on a visit to friends in Edinburgh. His body was retrieved a quarter of a mile eas
t of the third broken pier. He was described as ‘a youth of great promise’. He left behind a widowed mother and a heartbroken fiancée.

  Thomas Annan (20), was an iron turner who worked in Wallace Works, Dundee. He was another who had been on a visit to his parents. His body was discovered on Sunday morning 11 April 1880, trapped in salmon nets at Kinshaldy Fishings, Tentsmuir, by David Stewart, a salmon fisher. This information was relayed to Constable Smith at Leuchars, who collected the body and took it back to the Old Station, placing it in one of the waiting rooms. The constable then travelled to Dundee, taking with him possessions found in the pockets and on the body, in particular an old Perth halfpenny, as well as small pieces of clothing. These confirmed that it was Annan. Confirmation was also given by his uncle and Mrs Nicholson, with whom he resided at 48 Princes Street, Dundee. He had joined the train at Ladybank, having travelled from Newburgh where his parents lived. Annan was one of several who had strong connections with north-east Fife.

  Two other young men travelling together were long-time friends, Robert Fowlis (20), and fellow mason David Cunningham (17). They were employed at the ‘New Lunatic Asylum’ at West Green, near Lochee. They had gone on their usual Saturday visit to see family and friends in Fifeshire, where both had been born, returning on the Sunday and boarding the train at St. Fort. They trained together, worked together, lodged together, travelled together, died in this tragic accident together, lay in the mortuary together and both are buried in the churchyard at Kilmany.

  Others travelling together were Archibald Bain (26), son of a farmer, from Mains of Balgay and his sister Jessie (23) who had been on a visit to their uncle in Cupar. They travelled in a second-class compartment. Archibald was recovered on 8 January, along with Thomas Davidson (29), another farm servant of Linlathen. Archibald was rescued by whale boat No. 2 and it is reported that ‘an expression of pain rested on his features.’ His skull was badly fractured. Their uncle had wanted them to stay another night, but Archibald wanted to be back home to help his aged father on the farm on the Monday morning.43 Jessie was trapped among the girders and not found by a diver until much later, on 18 February. It was reported under the heading, ‘One of the more heart-touching relics from the wreckage’ that there was a letter written by Jessie to her father. It was picked up by the chief boatman of the coastguard service on 8 January at Arbroath, where it has been cast ashore. It said, ‘My dear father, I intend coming home on Sunday night with the 7.30 p.m. train. Hoping that you are all well and merry, kind love to all. Yours truly JESSIE BAIN, DUNDEE’.44 Obviously Jessie had not gotten around to posting this letter. One wonders what the letter had been written with – ink or lead pencil – and how it had survived being in the water.