Suspended Animation

“Are you nervous, Frances?”

My elder brothers Frederick and Charles weren’t showing any nerves, so neither was I. But then, why would I? This was to be an adventure. Having seen nothing but Dublin for the first 14 years of my life, simply to be in England was excitement enough. Today would be extra wonderful, though.

We were on our way to Brighton where my brothers were going to deliver me to boarding school where our da hoped the teachers would make something of me. But as the boat from Ireland to England docks at Liverpool, we were passing through Bristol on our way down to Brighton.

“They say it’s very behind schedule.”

It had been three years since the engineer Isambard Kingdom Brunel had won the competition to build a bridge across Bristol’s Avon Gorge, but still little in the way of a crossing had appeared over the ravine. However, Mr Brunel was trying his best to get people excited about his construction, and he’d dreamed up a most exciting way to get people from one side to another… without a bridge in place.

“Is it just a pole? How is it suspended?”

I was fascinated. Da said the gorge was 700 feet across, and now that we were at the side of it I could believe this. Standing at the edge of the cliff face with Frederick and Charles we peered down to the rushing waters 240 feet below. I was feeling a tiny bit afraid but I wasn’t going to let my brothers see.

Frustrated by the lack of progress, which Frederick said was because he hadn’t got as much money as he needed, Mr Brunel had laid an enormous iron bar across the entire gorge, and from this he had suspended a big wicker basket to transport people across via a rope pulley system. The fee was being used to help speed up the building work, although, as Charles said, they would need an awful lot of pennies to build this bridge.

I’d told Da that it couldn’t possibly be safe, but he told me Mr Brunel had been the first person to travel over and it had been perfectly secure. Although that wasn’t what Frederick had told me in the carriage on the way up to the bridge crossing at Ashton Gate.

“On the day the basket crossing opened, the bar slipped from its footing and fell crashing into the waters.”

“No!”

“Don’t tease her, Freddie.” That was Charles.

“I’m not!”

Frederick paused.

“Very well. It didn’t fall into the waters, but it did slip a few feet down the banks on the opening day and needed engineers to repair its footing. And last year a couple was traveling from one side to another when the pulley snapped and they were stuck in the middle. They were just suspended there.”

Frederick was trying his best to make me nervous but I wasn’t going to let him.

“So what happened?”

He told me: “They say that Brunel himself shimmied along the bar with another piece of rope to rescue them. Although they had to wait hours for him to get there. The lady passenger was weak with fright.”

“Oh, Freddie… are you making it up?”

He wasn’t making it up, but this was back in 1836 and I was still only 14 so I foolishly believed everything my brothers told me. Even though I pretended not to.

Despite Frederick’s best efforts, nothing could stop me from wanting to climb into the wicker basket and float over to Clifton on the other side of the gorge.

“Are you ready, miss? Sirs?”

The young man in the cap standing beside the basket was ready for us, and we stepped forward after Charles handed over our pennies. There was a box put down to help us get inside the basket and Frederick climbed in first, and then it was my turn. It was tremendously exciting, and even from being only a foot or so higher on the box I could see further out into the gorge below – and I could faintly hear the rush of water below. Charles joined us in the basket.

Once inside there were low benches at either end for us to sit on – the young man joined us in the basket so that we were well balanced with two at each end. Charles sat beside me and held my hand as I peered over the wicker edge, which was as high as my elbow.

I felt a fluttering of anticipation in my stomach, much more so than during the tiresome boat journey from Dublin to Liverpool, which had simply made me nauseous. This was an entirely different feeling. It was excitement and adventure. Now that we were so close to being launched on the rope pulley, it seemed impossible that this basket containing four persons and hung by rope cables could possibly travel across such a wide distance… and above such an enormous drop.

“Oh, Charles, it is safe, isnt’ it?”

He squeezed me hand encouragingly.

“George Atherton and his friends traveled over the gorge a few weeks back and said it was as steady as a rock,” Charles assured me.

The young man signaled to one of his colleagues that we were ready, and suddenly the basket started to jolt as the ropes were pulled. The basket raised a short way off the ground so that we were hanging in above the edge of the cliff face. Frederick made some silly comments and Charles squeezed my hand tighter as I giggled at Frederick.

“Think of the story you’ll have to tell your new friends when you get to Brighton, Frances,” he said to me. I smiled, knowing he was right.

“OK, lady and gentlemen,” the man said. “We’re setting off now.”

After a few more jolts and jerks, the pulley began to work in a seamless motion and we were launched off the cliff face and suddenly we were suspended across the very edge of the gorge, and then we were slowly traveling across. It was the most thrilling experience I had ever had.

For the first few minutes we were all rather quiet as we adjusted to the strange experience, the beautiful views and our abating fears. Charles never once let go of my hand as I peered over the edge into the white waters below… and to my naughty pleasure I noticed that poor Frederick was looking a little green. He must have believed his own stories.

“How many times have you done this journey?”

The man looked very relaxed about the experience, and seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to sit down for a few minutes rather than operate the pulleys.

“Well, miss, I’m not sure, but about three times a day I go over, when we need an extra person to help balance the basket like this.”

“You’re so lucky,” I said, and I meant it. “You must meet all kinds of people who travel across. It’s ever so thrilling.”

“I do, miss. There’s been several gentlemen who propose marriage to their young ladies when they’re mid way across the gorge.”

“Really? How wonderfully romantic!”

“Frances! Leave the poor fellow alone,” Charles chastised me.

I scowled at him. “But Charles, what a wonderful idea. Imagine having your true love go down on bended knee in this basket while you’re suspended in mid air, flying like birds. It’s too fantastic!”

We sailed on in silence for a few more minutes and then, as we were nearing the Clifton side of the crossing, there was a jolt as the basket shuddered and jumped a little… which made my insides feel panicky, although not as panicked as poor Frederick looked!

“Whatever was that?!” he cried.

“It’s OK, sir,” the young man quickly said. “There’s a kink in the bar, sir. It’s a reminder of the day the basket crossing was opened by Mr Brunel. There was a small fault with the bar and Mr Brunel had to make some last minute adjustments to the bar… it’s left a small snag in the bar. The rope catches on it every time we cross that par, but it’s fine, sir, I assure you.”

Frederick looked unconvinced and held onto the side of the wicker basket with his whitening fingertips. Charles and I giggled at him.

When we reached the Clifton side the basket was hoisted up onto the banks and we were helped out. When I stood up I was astonished to discover my legs felt limp beneath me… the exhilaration of the journey across the gorge had evidently affected me more than I realised. But I didn’t want anybody to notice and think that I was any less capable than my brothers.

As the two young men began to load the next passengers into the basket and collect their pennies, Charles, Frederick and I stood a small way back from the cliff edge and watched as the new travelers began their journey. I felt a pang of envy at the excitement they had ahead of them for the next ten minutes.

I wanted to do it again.