Some of you have probably been wondering what would happen if you were to drive a large farm vehicle into the parapet of a mediaeval bridge. To save you the time and trouble of conducting your own experiment, allow me to show you: this is what would happen.
The incident happened at about 10.30am on Tuesday. The first I knew of it was when I arrived at the southern side of the bridge two hours later on my way to run an exam in Alcester, only to discover a police car parked across the road with its blue light flashing, and what I think was a crop sprayer still apparently stuck in the middle of the bridge.
Luckily, being a proficient multi-tasker I was able to calculate and compare the distances to the two nearest river crossings while dialling the mobile of the Exam Secretary, executing a three-point turn and expressing my opinion in fluent Anglo-Saxon. Having decided that looping back through Welford-on-Avon was going to be quicker than going to Evesham, I then found myself in a convoy of cars all making the same detour. On arrival at Welford (a lovely and rather exclusive village, the residents of which do not care for outsiders), I just had time as I shot past them to be amused by the number of people standing around in groups outside their houses with their arms folded, scowling and muttering.
I made it to work only slightly late, and still managed to start the exam on time. When I went back through Welford the road wasn’t too bad, but R came home the same way that evening, and by then the village was pretty much gridlocked – so yesterday and this morning I drove round via Evesham instead. After work today though, I decided to go into Bidford and park up, then walk down to the bridge to get a proper look at the damage – which I have to say, made me feel slightly ill.
No-one seems to be quite sure exactly how old this bridge is: Wikipedia says early C15th century, but I’ve seen estimates that are earlier even than that. It’s a Grade I listed monument, and because of its age and historical importance there are restrictions (frequently ignored, clearly) on the size of vehicles allowed to use it. As you can see it has been patched and repaired numerous times – it had to be rebuilt after the Royalist forces demolished it in 1644 during the English Civil War, and a few years ago it was closed for a couple of months when a combine harvester got stuck half way across and could only be removed via the parapets being dismantled. And yet…. people do not learn.
A statement from Warwickshire County Council about this incident states: “Bridge maintenance engineers have assessed the damage and determined that partial dismantling of the damaged parapet will be required and repairs to the pier at river level, and to the face of pedestrians landings are necessary. The stone parapet and spandrel wall also requires extensive repair. Further inspection and assessment of the stone arch spans is required to determine any further defects.”
This is clearly not going to be a quick job. So once again, the thousands of drivers and pedestrians who use this river crossing every day must learn to live without Bidford Bridge for an undefined period of time.
The only positive note in the Council statement is this: “It is our immediate priority to complete the repairs but once this has been done our long term strategy will consider options to restrict use of the bridge by heavy vehicles.” Hooray to that.
I’ve put in two extras today. The mono is a wider shot of the bridge, which shows that the damage is to the third cutwater from the southern bank. All the cutwaters extend up to the parapet to form pedestrian refuges, but there’s an extra refuge over dry land at the south end of the bridge – in other words, it’s the fourth refuge along that was demolished. The second, colour extra is a shot I took from the bridge about a month ago, looking north towards the old White Lion Inn. You’re ahead of me here, I can feel it: when I took that photo I was standing in the apparent safety of the fourth refuge.