The loss of much Glaswegian heritage is still being felt 50 years on from the opening of the Kingston Bridge, writes Sandra Dick
GRACEFUL, stylish, and dominating a thriving spot at the heart of a bustling city crossroads, the Grand Hotel’s revolving doors welcomed visitors from far and near.
Inside were wide corridors, shiny floors and ceilings adorned with ornate cornicing, with elegant rooms that played host to countless weddings, celebrations, and well-heeled guests.
Yet Glasgow’s Grand Hotel was destined to become just one victim of a massive construction project that would see communities torn up, and buildings which today would be cherished, sacrificed at the altar of the motor vehicle.
Construction work on the Kingston Bridge, the M8 and the city’s inner ring road meant time had run out for anything that stood in its path. Demolition teams would mount an assault on red sandstone, bricks, and mortar, along with the tight-knit communities that held families close, their schools, much-loved shops, busy workplaces, and precious parts of Glasgow’s heritage.
Although not directly a victim of the construction of the Kingston Bridge itself, the Grand Hotel and a host of buildings in Charing Cross were part of the same audacious plan to revolutionise transport through the city.
Standing in the path of progress – but not for long – stood swathes of Anderston, Townhead, Cowcaddens and Kinning Park.
Some, of course, were rotten with poverty, overcrowded and in dire need of action. Demolition was probably regarded as a blessing. But others, such as the elegant tenements that stood on the southside at Kingston – which gave its name to the bridge that would transform travel and the city – or at Charing Cross, where link roads would plough through the site of the Grand Hotel, the loss would be mourned for decades to come.
By the time the Kingston Bridge was opened by The Queen on June 26, 1970 – almost exactly 50 years ago – communities which stood in the way of its ramps, access roads and the city’s new transport map dominated by its inner ring road were long gone.
“Glasgow was almost a testing ground for inner city motorways,” says Norry Wilson, the historian whose Lost Glasgow Facebook site and accompanying website documents the changing face of the city. “It was the scale and sheer destructive nature of it all. It’s interesting that after the Glasgow experience no other inner-city motorway was built like that.”
Even those whose homes and businesses escaped the hammer knew change was happening. “Every day your nostrils would be full of black snotters, the whole city was engulfed in soot because so much was being demolished,” he adds.
“Children would go to nursery or school and come home with clothes black because there was so much soot in the air.”
A new bridge across the Clyde had been proposed as far back as 1945 when the controversial Bruce Report looked to regenerate the post-war city.
Ruthless in its outlook, it suggested clearing slums along with a major new roads network that placed some of Glasgow’s architectural gems, including the Glasgow School of Art, Glasgow City Chambers, Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, and Central Station in its crosshairs.
“The Bruce Report is remembered for advocating wholesale demolition of the city centre and rebuilding it in some kind of 1950s eastern bloc style,” says Stuart Baird, chairperson of Glasgow Motorway Archive.
“There was a lot of austerity after the war, and they couldn’t agree on where the development should happen.”
It took over a decade before agreement was reached that 20 inner-city areas should be earmarked for comprehensive redevelopment, paving the way for a pared back version of the Bruce Report’s road plans. While some historic gems were saved, the delivery of Glasgow inner ring road, the M8 and the Kingston Bridge would see others meet their end.
Swathes of Townhead were flattened, including Parliamentary Road, which ran from Sauchiehall Street to the east end.
And tenements in Cowcaddens, an area blighted by high child mortality rates, slums and low life expectancy, were razed to make way for new concrete corridors.
As the new road network crept towards the Clyde, it gobbled up communities which formed when the land was still being farmed and homes were clustered in simple