THAT THE concept of a Massey Ferguson aircraft would probably not reassure a nervous flyer is, in its own way, a tribute to the machines for which the aforementioned company is famous, writes FRANK MCNALLY
The Irish half of the partnership, Harry Ferguson, was born in Co Down in 1884. And as fate would have it, down was also the direction associated with some his best-known inventions. In the 1920s, frustrated by the limitations of the existing, separately articulated tractors and ploughs, he designed his own “three-point linkage” system, more suited to Irish farmland, and indeed farmland generally.
Adopted by Henry Ford, the innovation revolutionised ploughing worldwide and in the process made Ferguson’s name. But his career might easily have taken a different direction altogether. And to illustrate the point, next month marks the centenary of his most famous achievement in another field, literally and metaphorically.
On the last day of 1909, at the Downshire estate in Hillsborough, Ferguson took off in his own monoplane and managed to remain airborne for 130 yards before landing safely. It was a modest achievement compared with that of Louis Bleriot, who a few months earlier had flown the English Channel.
But Ferguson’s claim to history rests on being the first man to build and fly his own plane in Ireland; which, given his subsequent engineering achievements, makes one wonder what might might have been. Had he persisted with aeronautics, we might now be crossing the Atlantic on Ferguson 747s or making shorts hops to London on the Massey Ferguson 165.
Although a Belfast Telegraphreporter was present to witness his landmark flight, the occasion appears to have gone unreported in The Irish Times. The following July, however, this paper carried mention of a similar attempt by Ferguson, elsewhere in Down. And it's clear from the details that Irish aviation was still very much at the teething stage A crowd of 20,000 people was said to have gathered to watch his latest adventure: this time on the beach at Newcastle. But the event did not go smoothly: "At about 7.15pm, [Ferguson] brought his flying machine to the beach. It ran along about 10 yards, and then one of the wheels struck a boulder and was buckled and the plane fell over on one side. A new wheel was obtained [. . .] and Mr Ferguson intends to make another attempt to fly today." A later report was even more ominous. This time, part of the large crowd was said to have become "incensed" at the delay caused by stormy weather: "They rushed the enclosure where the machine lay, carrying barriers, police, and officials before them. One of the planes (sic) of the machine was badly damaged by being trampled on. This may prevent a flight tomorrow." Maybe Ferguson was not fated to be an aircraft manufacturer. In any case, after a few more adventures, he gave aeronautics up permanently in 1912. And thereafter his main engineering feats were all firmly grounded.
He had started his own motor business in 1911 and was soon selling US-made tractors to Irish farmers, hitherto accustomed to horse-drawn ploughs. Then in 1919, the Irish board of agriculture sought his advice on improving yields, whereupon he turned to the design of agricultural machinery.
The existing separate tractor and plough system was cumbersome and unsafe, he knew. So he designed his own plough, lighter than the existing ones, and coupled it with the tractor in such a way that they worked as a unit, with the driver in complete control of the operation. Patented in 1926, the “Ferguson system” quickly became the global standard.
Although he turned down a job from Henry Ford, they shook hands on a deal in 1938 whereby the American would manufacture Ferguson-designed tractors. It was a mutually lucrative partnership. Half a million of the classic TVOs – “Grey Fergies” as they were known – were sold world-wide in the middle of the last century. But the gentleman’s agreement did not survive Ford’s death 1947.
Ferguson’s later years were overshadowed by a long-running legal dispute with the company, before he finally won $9.25 million compensation. A 1953 merger with the Canadian firm Massey-Harris also worked out unhappily, even though his name is now indelibly linked with it.
Retired to Gloucestershire, Ferguson’s final ambition was to improve car safety through four-wheel drive and anti-lock braking systems. This was not a success. He suffered from depression and, when he died from a drugs overdose in 1960, a coroner’s jury gave an open verdict.
Among the many tributes since paid to the great engineer was an Irish postage stamp back in 1981. But last year, a memorial garden was opened in his honour at the Ferguson family homestead. The gardens include a life-sized sculpture of the man himself: portrayed – in keeping with someone who was born on a farm but had other ideas about what he wanted to do in life – looking over a gate, deep in thought.