At length all was ready for hoisting the first great chain, and about the middle of April, 1825, Mr. Telford left London for Bangor to superintend the operations. An immense assemblage collected to witness the sight; greater in number than any that had been collected in the same place since the men of Anglesea, in their war-paint, rushing down to the beach, had shrieked defiance across the Straits at their Roman invaders on the Caernarvon shore. Numerous boats arrayed in gay colours glided along the waters; the day—the 26th of April—being bright, calm, and in every way propitious.
At half-past two, about an hour before high water, the raft bearing the main chain was cast off from near Treborth Mill, on the Caernarvon side. Towed by four boats, it began gradually to move from the shore, and with the assistance of the tide, which caught it at its further end, it swung slowly and majestically round to its position between the main piers, where it was moored. One end of the chain was then bolted to that which hung down the face of the Caernarvon pier; whilst the other was attached to ropes connected with strong capstans fixed on the Anglesea side, the ropes passing by means of blocks over the top of the pyramid of the Anglesea pier. The capstans for hauling in the ropes bearing the main chain, were two in number, manned by about 150 labourers. When all was ready, the signal was given to "Go along!" A Band of fifers struck up a lively tune; the capstans were instantly in motion, and the men stepped round in a steady trot. All went well. The ropes gradually coiled in. As the strain increased, the pace slackened a little; but "Heave away, now she comes!" was sung out. Round went the men, and steadily and safely rose the ponderous chain.
[Image] Cut of Bridge, showing state of Suspension Chain
The tide had by this time turned, and bearing upon the side of the raft, now getting freer of its load, the current floated it away from under the middle of the chain still resting on it, and it swung easily off into the water. Until this moment a breath less silence pervaded the watching multitude; and nothing was heard among the working party on the Anglesea side but the steady tramp of the men at the capstans, the shrill music of the fife, and the occasional order to "Hold on!" or "Go along!" But no sooner was the raft seen floating away, and the great chain safely swinging in the air, than a tremendous cheer burst forth along both sides of the Straits.
The rest of the work was only a matter of time. The most anxious moment had passed. In an hour and thirty-five minutes after the commencement of the hoisting, the chain was raised to its proper curvature, and fastened to the land portion of it which had been previously placed over the top of the Anglesea pyramid. Mr. Telford ascended to the point of fastening, and satisfied himself that a continuous and safe connection had been formed from the Caernarvon fastening on the rock to that on Anglesea. The announcement of the fact was followed by loud and prolonged cheering from the workmen, echoed by the spectators, and extending along the Straits on both sides, until it seemed to die away along the shores in the distance. Three foolhardy workmen, excited by the day's proceedings, had the temerity to scramble along the upper surface of the chain—which was only nine inches wide and formed a curvature of 590 feet—from one side of the Strait to the other!*[2] Far different were the feelings of the engineer who had planned this magnificent work. Its failure had been predicted; and, like Brindley's Barton Viaduct, it had been freely spoken of as a "castle in the air." Telford had, it is true, most carefully tested every part by repeated experiment, and so conclusively proved the sufficiency of the iron chains to bear the immense weight they would have to support, that he was thoroughly convinced as to the soundness of his principles of construction, and satisfied that, if rightly manufactured and properly put together, the chains would hold, and that the piers would sustain them. Still there was necessarily an element of uncertainty in the undertaking. It was the largest structure of the kind that had ever been attempted. There was the contingency of a flaw in the iron; some possible scamping in the manufacture; some little point which, in the multiplicity of details to be attended to, he might have overlooked, or which his subordinates might have neglected. It was, indeed, impossible but that he should feel intensely anxious as to the result of the day's operations. Mr. Telford afterwards stated to a friend, only a few months before his death, that for some time previous to the opening of the bridge, his anxiety was so great that he could scarcely sleep; and that a continuance of that condition must have very soon completely undermined his health. We are not, therefore, surprised to learn that when his friends rushed to congratulate him on the result of the first day's experiment, which decisively proved the strength and solidity of the bridge, they should have found the engineer on his knees engaged in prayer. A vast load had been taken off his mind; the perilous enterprise of the day had been accomplished without loss of life; and his spontaneous act was thankfulness and gratitude.
[Image] Menai Bridge
The suspension of the remaining fifteen chains was accomplished without difficulty. The last was raised and fixed on the 9th of July, 1825, when the entire line was completed. On fixing the final bolt, a band of music descended from the top of the suspension pier on the Anglesea side to a scaffolding erected over the centre of the curved part of the chains, and played the National Anthem amidst the cheering of many thousand persons assembled along the shores of the Strait: while the workmen marched in procession along the bridge, on which a temporary platform had been laid, and the St. David steam-packet of Chester passed under the chains towards the Smithy Rocks and back again, thus re-opening the navigation of the Strait.
In August the road platform was commenced, and in September the trussed bearing bars were all suspended. The road was constructed of timber in a substantial manner, the planking being spiked together, with layers of patent felt between the planks, and the carriage way being protected by oak guards placed seven feet and a half apart. Side railings were added; the toll-houses and approach-roads were completed by the end of the year; and the bridge was opened for public traffic on Monday, the 30th of January, 1826, when the London and Holyhead mailcoach passed over it for the first time, followed by the Commissioners of the Holyhead roads, the engineer, several stage-coaches, and a multitude of private persons too numerous to mention.
We may briefly add a few facts as to the quantities of materials used, and the dimensions of this remarkable structure. The total weight of iron was 2187 tons, in 33,265 pieces. The total length of the bridge is 1710 feet, or nearly a third of a mile; the distance between the points of suspension of the main bridge being 579 feet. The total sum expended by Government in its erection, including the embankment and about half a mile of new line of road on the Caernarvon side, together with the toll-houses, was 120,000L.
Notwithstanding the wonders of the Britannia Bridge subsequently erected by Robert Stephenson for the passage across the same strait of the Chester and Holyhead Railway, the Menai Bridge of Telford is by far the most picturesque object. "Seen as I approached it," says Mr. Roscoe, "in the clear light of an autumnal sunset, which threw an autumnal splendour on the wide range of hills beyond, and the sweep of richly variegated groves and plantations which covered their base—the bright sun, the rocky picturesque foreground, villas, spires, and towers here and there enlivening the prospect— the Menai Bridge appeared more like the work of some great magician than the mere result of man's skill and industry."