An Abridged History
of the Construction of the Railway Line Between Garve, Ullapool and Lochinver.
And Other Pertinent Matters.
Being the Professional Journal and Regular Chronicle
of ALEXANDER AUCHMUTY SETH KININMONTH.
With a Foreword by Alured Marjoribanks.
It is August 1893 and the eternally optimistic railway engineer, Alexander Auchmuty Seth Kininmonth, is beginning work on the construction of what will surely turn out to be Scotland's greatest-ever railway, a magnificent line between Garve and Lochinver. Knowing that such an achievement will transform the economy of that lonely, empty corner of Scotland, Kininmonth awaits the inevitable glory, riches and personal comfort this undertaking will undoubtedly bring him.
But all does not go according to plan.
Wild Scottish weather, midges and financial incompetence all conspire against him and his dreams slowly fade; a chance encounter with two survivors of a community abandoned on a sub-Antarctic island brings about an extraordinary sequence of events, which necessitate a rapid escape by all three to the remote island of Jura. Struggling to keep his hopes for the railway alive, Kininmonth is caught up in the revolutionary events in Ullapool of 1897, where a "Citadel of the Elect" has been founded by a millennarian preacher. Historical events - factual or fictional - threaten to overwhelm his schemes, but Kininmonth refuses to accept defeat, always believing, as the worst of scenarios persistently unfold before him, that social justice and sound engineering principles will triumph.
Yes and no. A railway line was indeed proposed in 1890, to branch from a line passing through Garve, and run to Ullapool. Rather optimistically, there was even a proposal to extend it to Lochinver, further up the coast. Parliamentary approval was granted to the scheme. Sir John Fowler, engineer-in-chief on the Forth Railway Bridge, was heavily involved in the scheme. It was only when someone thought to go out and look at the wild and untameable nature of the land through which the line was to pass, that investors got cold feet and the scheme never proceeded. Instead, the railway-line to Skye won the day, and Parliament passed an Act abandoning the Ullapool line again in 1892. The project was actually revived, briefly, in 1919 - but again never got anywhere. Perhaps some other time, in some idyllic future?
The Auchmuty and Kininmonth families, incidentally, are my ancestors on my mother's side. The bearded young man whose face appears on the cover is John Kininmonth, vintage 1842, a distant great-great-great-uncle (or similar).
On my first live radio interview for BBC Radio Scotland, the very first thing I was asked was 'what is the full title of the book?'
Since I had not thought to bring a copy into the studio (and my interviewer did not know this, she being in Glasgow, me in Edinburgh), there was a very long pause indeed... Both interviewee and interviewer were rather twitchy after that.
There was a French web-site, providing information on resources of a scientific, technical, engineering or business nature, which, until quite recently, listed this book. Clearly, not as fiction. I was rather disappointed when the French finally tumbled to the deceit... It pays to read the covers of books very carefully, so as not to be deceived.