Yet another pair were George Johnston (24), and his fiancée, Eliza Smart (24). She had wanted to return by boat but, because of the roughness of the water, took the train instead. Like her aunt, Anne Cruickshank, who also perished, Eliza was also in service. She was sometimes identified as a ‘domestic servant’ and sometimes a ‘table maid’. (In the hierarchy of servants a ‘domestic’ could be anything from a cleaner, to a kitchen/scullery help, or some other role ‘below-stairs’. A table maid was an ‘upstairs’ domestic servant who laid and waited at the table, either in houses or in hotel dining rooms. The type of establishment would determine whether her work would include other duties or not.) Eliza is intriguing. On the outside she was dressed all in black – ‘black corded dress, black tight pilot jacket, black bonnet and feather’; but underneath, she wore ‘scarlet stays’ and ‘white stockings’. Her official description notes that she was ‘very tall’ but also that ‘one of her legs is bandaged being smaller than the other’.45 Being very tall, Eliza must have stood out in this short-sized community – heights for the men, where given, average around 5ft 8in/5ft 9in, with some being much shorter at 5ft 1in or 5ft 2in.
Brothers, Alexander (22) and William Robertson (20), both firemen at Dundee Gas Works and both living at 100 Foundry Lane, also travelled together. Alexander was recovered on 8 January, but William’s was the last body to be recovered (number forty-six). It was retrieved on 27 April 1880, some four months after the events; but it was as late as Tuesday 4 May before William was taken from the Mortuary and conveyed by rail to Abernethy, Perthshire for burial.
James Crichton (23), of Mains of Fintry, however, travelled alone, deep in grief. His story is like a Greek tragedy, with sorrow heaped on sorrow. He was a simple ploughman, as had been his father who had died suddenly whilst following his cart on 22 December. Crichton had been attending his father’s funeral in Kettle, the family place. Little did he know that his own funeral would shortly follow. His death left his family in desperate straits. The plan had been that he would step into his father’s shoes, and be the support for his mother and eight siblings. Their case was put before the Temporary Relief for the Bereaved Fund Committee, by Rev. Mr Gordon of Kettle, and it was agreed to send him £3 to give relief to the family.46 It seems a meagre sum, even for those times, especially as the Fund was so full.
James Murdoch (21), engineer, was one of the three actually recovered by the divers. He was reported as being ‘dug-out’ from underneath the southernmost girder, on 7 February, by diver Tait. James Murdoch was the third child in a family of seven children. His elder brother was also an engineer. James had moved south and resided in London, but had returned north to enjoy the traditional festivities of the New Year with his parents and family.
Thomas Davidson (29), a ploughman of Linlathen, had been visiting friends in Fifeshire. He joined the train at Cupar. He was found on Thursday 8 January, embedded in the sand 400 yards east of the bridge.
Joseph Low[e] Anderson (20) had also been on a visit to his friends in Cupar. He had gone on the Saturday and had taken the return train at that same station. Anderson was an apprentice compositor in the Dundee Courier & Argus office. It seems hugely ironical that his paper should be reporting his death, the finding of his body and its identification by his father, a bookseller from Auchtermuchty, along with the news of the other victims. His body was picked up by a Wick fishing boat at Ulbister, on the Caithness coast, late in April. He was one of the last, the forty-fifth body to be recovered but, because of serious deterioration, he was another who had to be identified by his clothing. The identification was assisted by the fact that he had three printer ‘leads’ in his pocket. When Joseph Anderson was removed from the mortuary in Wick to be carried to the railway station for the train journey home, as a mark of respect, all the compositors from the local newspapers formed up as a cortège and escorted him to the railway station.47
Several of the male victims, even those in their twenties, left behind family. John Lawson (25), plasterer, left a wife and two children. James Millar (27) left a wife and young child. In order to provide a better life for them, Millar had been working away from home in Dysart for the previous few months and returning to be with his young family each weekend. Smoking a pipe was a popular habit at this time, and many of the male victims had pipes and tobacco about their person – James had not one but two clay pipes on him.
Both James Leslie (21), employed by Mr John Fleming, wood merchant, and Robert Frederick Syme (22) of Nethergate employed in the Royal Hotel, Dundee, were of the ‘new class’ of worker – a clerk. This role had been little known before the Industrial Revolution, but with industrial expansion and the spectacular growth of the Flagships of Industry, particularly the railways, the role of the clerk grew in number and significance. Syme, single and an only son, had been on a week-long visit to his parents. He was well-regarded by his employer and, through his work, he was well known by travellers and residents of Dundee. Syme had a surprisingly large sum upon his person £12 2s 6d, as well as foreign coins and a silver English lever watch. He also had a travelling bag with his initials on it. James Leslie was obviously fond of reading and poetry, as he had with him a volume of Longfellow’s poems. In keeping with his work, he also carried a pencil case, a small pocket book and a rule. He had less cash than Syme, just £1 3s 7½d, but a gold watch and a gold ‘Albert’. (Watches at this time were kept in pockets and an ‘Albert’ (named after Prince Albert) was a chain, either brass, silver or gold, which made access to the pocket watch easier. The chain was attached to the watch which went in the pocket and a T-bar on the chain was tucked into a buttonhole. The other end of the chain was often used for ‘decorative’ charms.) Leslie was buried in the Western Necropolis, Dundee.
Walter Ness (23) of Wellgate, was a foreman saddler with J.M. Storrar of Dundee. He was also a ‘gunner’ in the Dundee Artillery Volunteers. He had obviously had an eye with the gun, having won a silver cup in competition that autumn. His funeral was reported by the Courier and Argus, informing how it had been agreed by Major Urquhart that a party of non-commissioned officers and men of the 4th Forfarshire Artillery Volunteers would parade and accompany the remains for interment. The coffin was draped in the Union Jack with Ness’ helmet and sword on top. Six pallbearers carried the coffin to the steamer for its short crossing to Tayport. From there it went by train to Kirkcaldy, where a large crowd of family and friends waited to take part in the service.
William Jack (23), a grocer of Scoonie, Fife, resided in Dundee but was originally of Dairsie. He had returned there to visit and comfort his grieving mother, and to offer what practical help he could; his sister had died just two weeks earlier. He attended church twice on the Sunday before catching the evening train at Leuchars. One can only imagine how his poor mother must have felt losing a daughter and a son in such a short space of time.
Robert Culross (26) of Tayport, described on his certificate as a ‘carpenter’, had actually served an apprenticeship as a boat-builder, but was recently employed by the NBR as an ‘erector of advertising boards’ to be put up at their stations. He was engaged to be married in the first week of February and was on his way to Dundee to invite friends to the wedding. His mother and fiancée identified his body.48
James Henderson (22), a single labourer residing in Dundee, was the eldest of eight children. He is known to have boarded the train at Ladybank. He was one of eleven recovered ‘abreast’ or nearby the Mars. Finally George Taylor (25), a mason from Dundee, was a single man travelling with a friend, Mrs Elizabeth Nicoll.
The Other Passengers
Women
Anne (Annie) Cruikshanks’ claim to fame is that she was the first to be recovered, at 9 a.m. the morning after the incident. Her body was floating in the water near the beach at Newport. She was taken to one of the waiting rooms at Tay Bridge Station which, at the stationmaster’s direction, had been turned into a temporary mortuary. Her recovery was eagerly reported. The papers noted that ‘she had hair
that had been black but was now very streaked with grey’. It was generally agreed that she was ‘decently dressed’. She wore ‘a black merino petticoat’ and her long jacket was ‘trimmed with buttons down the back … She had her left glove on and was firmly clutching the other in her right hand.’49 'There was nothing except an unmarked handkerchief her pocket’. Perhaps surprisingly, what they did not agree on was her condition. Various descriptions appeared: ‘with the exception of a slight bruise on the forehead, there was no mark of injury on the body’ as opposed to ‘her head is severely lacerated and her left leg broken’ and ‘… her face is a good deal cut’.50
Anne (54), from Kingsbarns, was a spinster and worked for Lady Baxter of Kilmarron, Edinburgh. She is described as a ‘domestic servant’ as well as ‘maid to Lady Baxter’. As the latter, it would make more sense that she was travelling second class with Mrs Mary Easton, widow of the late Rev. James C. Easton, also in her fifties and the cousin of Lady Baxter. Mrs Easton was travelling from Edinburgh after visiting Lady Baxter, to see another cousin who lived in Broughty Ferry, on the eastern outskirts of Dundee. Anne Cruickshanks was detailed to accompany Mrs Easton. They should have caught the morning train, but Lady Baxter’s coachman slept in, and they had to catch the evening train instead.51
Anne Cruickshanks also had the distinction of being the first of the victims to be buried. Emotions amongst the residents on each side of the Tay were strong and raw and so her funeral on Thursday 1 January 1880, just a few days after the incident, drew large crowds and curiosity. She is buried at Kingsbarn, Kirkyard, in Fife.
Initially, Anne was wrongly identified as Mrs Mann, and then Mrs Euphemia Cheap[e], even though she was single and would have worn no wedding ring. Mrs Euphemia Cheap[e] (54), a mother of six, was also a domestic servant and ‘very industrious’ who had ‘by her own exertions brought up a large family’. She had left Lochee on Sunday morning to spend the day with her mother, who resided with other relatives near St Fort. She left them to catch the last train to Dundee. On hearing the news that the body of an elderly woman had been recovered at Newport, and taking the general description given, three of her girls came to identify what they thought would be their mother. The girls were ‘deeply affected’ and taken into one of the waiting rooms to sit by the fire until things were ready. Unhappily for them, the body was not their mother, so the poor girls had to steel themselves to wait, until the next time, to do that dreadful duty again.52
Men
John Scott (30) was one of only three bodies recovered by the divers, he by the diver Harley near the fourth broken pier. His body, described as that of a young man, smart in appearance and short in stature, was found entangled in the telegraph wires in a girder and its release was a long job that took several hours. He had in his pockets a waterproof cover of a cap, two handkerchiefs and a seaman’s discharge note. He had only been discharged on 24 December at Hartlepool. His father came from the poorhouse to identify his son, who, he informed the authorities, had for some time been in America. He was called the ‘American sailor’ by the press. His mother, separated from his father, also came to identify that body. It was profoundly sad that the young man had failed to see his parents, whom he had come back to visit after a long absence. His funeral service was conducted in the mortuary by the Rev. Mr Sugden of St Mary Magdalen’s Episcopal Church. His body was conveyed to the Eastern Necropolis and interred there.
Mr Peter G. Salmond (44) was another interred in this cemetery. Mr Salmond’s body had been discovered in a rather poor state, at a spot opposite Milton Railway Siding, by a young woman, a milliner named Margaret Baird, who had been walking on the beach. As the face was badly decomposed, the body had to be identified by the clothing, which was done by his son and only child, Peter. Salmond, like several others on the train, wore black since he was returning home from attending a funeral of a relative at Kirkcaldy. His own funeral was on Tuesday 14 February.
The remains of another much decomposed body was picked up 1 mile below the bridge, on the south shore of the Tay. It was discovered by Mr William Brown, a gardener, who was out walking along the beach. He saw the body of a man floating in the water and waded out to retrieve it. He informed the police at Newport, who forwarded the information on to Dundee. Mr Smith, a local undertaker, and a police official took the boat to Newport and brought the body back to the mortuary at Dundee. Although not formally identified, it was thought by the police to be that of Mr William Henry Beynon (40). Ironically, great efforts had been made to recover Beynon’s body through dives. Diver Harley had gone down several times at the request of Beynon’s friends. On Tuesday 13 January, Harley had made two descents between the fourth and fifth broken piers. On his return he stated that he had found the first-class carriage, which he had gone through and found nothing, and that the third-class carriage appeared to have ‘driven into the first-class carriage in a telescope fashion maybe in the falling’. 53
Beynon was described by the papers as an ‘art photographer and lithographer’ and ‘a partner in Messrs Beynon & Co., fine art publishers and engravers, Cheltenham.’54He had come north on the firm’s business. He was obviously a successful businessman as he had a good amount of gold jewellery about his person – a gold ring, a gold watch and Albert, gold studs and sleeve links in his shirt, and two gold appendages, one of them a spade guinea. He was also found to be a member of the Masons, as in his scarf was a Masonic gold pin.
Immediately upon receiving the news of the body being found, a close family friend, Mr Tweeney from Swansea (Beynon had been born in Wales), came to deal with the situation and make the necessary arrangements. At the mortuary he had no trouble in identifying his friend from his features, his two false teeth and all the items of jewellery upon him. According to Tweeney, Beynon had also been carrying a large amount of money, around £70 in Bank of England and Scottish notes, probably in his coat pocket, but neither were found. Mr Tweeney was given some information that may well have been distressing for him. He was told that his friend was found without an overcoat and with his vest unbuttoned. Mr Tweeney stated that his friend was ‘an expert swimmer and a man of great courage and determination’, and that he had no doubt whatever that he had ‘begun to throw of[f] his clothing in order to swim for his life’.55 This was, as the article then pointed out, very disturbing news, not just that Beynon’s family would never know whether he had died on impact, or perished while trying to swim ashore, but that there was a very real possibility that the passengers on the train knew, even momentarily, that they were in mortal danger. (It has been calculated that there were about thirty seconds between the accident beginning and the train and bridge hitting the water.56) The article goes on to say that this view is supported by the expression of ‘great fear’ featured on one of the guards face. This possibility is further strengthened by the fact that two other male passengers were found without their coats on, as if they too had ‘made ready’.
Mr Beynon’s body was prepared according to the instructions conveyed to the undertakers Messrs Smith & Sons, Nethergate. It was dressed and encased in three coffins – the first a ‘common black shell, which was then encased in an air-tight lead coffin and these were enclosed in a coffin of polished oak.57 On Tuesday 10 February 1880, Beynon’s coffin was sent on off on the 3.15 p.m. train for Cheltenham, accompanied by his good friend Mr Tweeney, and Mr Smith, the undertaker, who travelled with him as far as Edinburgh.58 Beynon left a widow and two children, one aged eleven and the other aged nine.
Identifying the bodies was often problematic, especially after they had been in the water any length of time and depending on where they were discovered. Also, if they were recovered with the grappling iron they were more likely to be damaged. Sometimes there were initial mistakes, one of which occurred with the body of John Sharp (33), a joiner, who was first thought to be John Scott, the ‘seaman from America’. Sharp worked for Messrs Keiller & Sons, confectioners. Unmarried, he resided in lodgings in Commercial Street, and his eventual acc
urate identification was made by Elizabeth Don (Rose) his landlady. Like so many others on the train, he had been returning from visiting his family – his aged parents in St Andrews. He was their sole support. Again, like several others, his body was found close to the training ship, this time by whale boat No. 10, under the charge of Robert Fairweather. 59
George McIntosh (43), a goods guard with the Caledonian Railway, was also initially thought to be someone else. He was found a long way off from the others, some 30 miles away, cast ashore in Lunan Bay (northwards, between Arbroath and Montrose) during a violent storm, and not until 21 February. Consequently, his features were badly deteriorated which made the identification difficult. Like passenger Beynon, he was also lacking his coat. He was the thirty-sixth body to be recovered.
Death, Dynamite and Disaster Page 19