A chassis of State

An Irishman’s Diary about historic tractors

Among the many creations of Myles na gCopaleen, formerly of this parish, was the infamous “steam man”, whose obsession with railway engines led him to rhapsodise once about the “beautiful Manley superheats that came in about 1921 (making that an historic date in Irish history)”. I thought about the steam man and his superheats at Willie Carey’s place in Meath last Sunday, while a group of us stood around admiring a vintage tractor from that same year.

Although the main event was a threshing, I knew from a glance at the carpark that I was also among tractor enthusiasts, many of whom had arrived in their old Fordson Dextas, Massey Ferguson 135s, and the like.

But those models paled alongside Willie’s prize piece – a 1921 Fordson Model F, the machine on which modern Ireland was founded. All right, maybe that last bit is a slight overstatement. Even so, the Model F was at least as revolutionary as the first Free State government. And in fact, its influence was felt well beyond this country. Being mass produced and affordable, it did for tractors worldwide what the Model T had done for cars. But because it was produced in Henry Ford’s ancestral county of Cork, starting soon after the first World War, it was doubly important for an Ireland that (among the lesser events of 1921, as the steam man saw it) had just achieved independence. In a sense, via the tractor, the new Free State also exported revolution.

Throughout the 1920s, thousands of Cork-built Model Fs were sold to the Soviet Union, where the communist authorities were so impressed they soon started making cloned versions. In the meantime, the Cork machines must have aided collectivisation of farms. As such, one or two may even have had their portraits painted. The concept of a community’s “first tractor”, collectively purchased, was a recurring theme in early Soviet art. Whatever they did for communism, meanwhile, the tractors were a boon to Irish trade, at least for a few years.

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As late as 1930, The Irish Times reported sales worth £2.2 million in the first half of the year alone, albeit that figure only emerged in a briefing at which Ford had to deny rumours the Russians were reneging on payment.

But it wasn’t all about the Model F in Enfield on Sunday. Willie also had a 1941 Ford Ferguson on show, which in one sense could rival the F as the national tractor. It was the engineering expression of a united Ireland, in a way, being the joint production of Harry Ferguson, from Co Down, and the aforementioned Ford family, late of Cork. Alas, and perhaps inevitably, it carried within it the seeds of division. Yes, like all great movements, the mid-20th century tractor one had a split, turning brother against brother – or in this case grandson against man-that-grandfather-had-made-deal-with. The tractor’s innovations were essentially Ferguson’s – Henry Ford Snr just produced it. But such was their gentlemen’s agreement, only Ferguson made a profit. So Henry Ford II, the founder’s grandson, eventually welshed on the deal and continued making the tractors, incurring a lawsuit that ran for years.

There was, of course, no hint of this acrimony in the model at Enfield. Restored to pristine condition, its engine purred only as loudly as those admiring it. It would have been music even to the ears of the steam man, who was notoriously sensitive to the sound of engines being tortured. The Model F and its descendants will no doubt feature at the National Ploughing Championships later this month.

On a tangentially related note, meanwhile, there was amusement in Irish Twitter circles this week at a US-published map that, in advance of Scotland’s referendum, depicted the former British Empire with the dates on which each colony achieved independence. According to this, the imperial sun had set on Ireland in “1931”. Amid tweeted bemusement, it was surmised that the map must be referring to the 1931 Statute of Westminster, an odd choice. But no sooner had this consensus formed than the website involved changed its mind in favour of republican fundamentalism, and retweeted the map, now dating Irish independence to “1916”. Cue more derision.

So by the time you read this, the publishers may have gone to the other extreme, and tried a third time – 1948 perhaps. But I’m not without sympathy for their confusion. There are nearly as many possible dates for Irish independence as there were different Fordson tractors. If I were them, I’d go with the Model F.

@FrankmcnallyIT