THE RAILWAY JUBILEE, AND GLASGOW AND SOUTH-WESTERN OFFICERS AND CLERKS
The 27th day of September, 1875, was the Jubilee of the British Railway
System. It was celebrated by a banquet given by the North-Eastern
Railway Company at Darlington, for the Stockton and Darlington section of
the North-Eastern was, as I have mentioned before, the first public
railway. A thousand guests were invited. No building in Darlington
could accommodate such a number, and a great marquee, large enough to
dine a thousand people, was obtained from London. My chief attended the
banquet and I remained at home to hear the news when he returned. Dan
Godfrey's band was there, and Dan Godfrey himself composed some music for
the occasion. The _menu_ was long, elaborate and imposing; equalled only
by the _toast list_, which contained no less than sixteen separate
toasts. It was a Gargantuan feast befitting a great occasion. Could we
men of to-day have done it justice and sat it and the toast list out, I
wonder. It took place over forty years ago, when the endurance of the
race was, perhaps, greater than now; or why do we now shorten our
banquets and shirk the bottle?
The Stockton and Darlington Railway is 54 miles long, and its authorised
capital was 102,000 pounds--a modest sum indeed, under 2,000 pounds per
mile, less than half the outlay for land alone of the North Midland line
and not one twenty-fifth of the average cost of British railways as they
stand to-day, which is some 57,000 pounds per mile. The railway owed its
origin to George Stephenson and to Edward Pease, the wealthy Quaker and
manufacturer of Darlington, both burly men, strong in mind as body. The
first rail was laid, with much ceremony, near the town of Stockton, on
the 23rd of May, 1822, amid great opposition culminating in acts of
personal violence, for the early railways, from interests that feared
their rivalry, and often from sheer blind ignorance itself, had bitter
antagonism to contend with.
The day brought an immense concourse of people to Darlington, all bent on
seeing the novel spectacle of a train of carriages and wagons filled with
passengers and goods, drawn along a _railway_ by a _steam_ engine. At
eight o'clock in the morning the train started with its load--22
vehicles--hauled by Stephenson's "Locomotion," driven by Stephenson
himself. "Such was its velocity that in some parts of the journey the
speed was frequently 12 miles an hour." The number of passengers reached
450, and the goods and merchandise amounted to 90 tons--a great
accomplishment, and George Stephenson and Edward Pease were proud men
that day.
Seven years from this present time will witness the _Centenary_ of the
railway system. How shall we celebrate _it_? Will railway proprietor,
railway director and railway manager on that occasion be animated with
the gladness, the pride and the hope that brightened the Jubilee Banquet?
Who can tell? The future of railways is all uncertain.
A word or two regarding the railway system of Scotland may not be
inappropriate.
Scotland has eight _working_ railway companies, England and Wales 104,
and Ireland 28. These include light railways, but are exclusive of all
railways, light or ordinary, that are worked not by themselves but by
other companies. Scotland has exhibited her usual good sense, her canny,
thrifty way, by keeping the number of _operating_ railway companies
within such moderate bounds. Ireland does not show so well, and England
relatively is almost as bad as Ireland, yet England might well have shown
the path of prudence to her poorer sister by greater adventure herself in
the sensible domain of railway amalgamation. Much undeserved censure has
been heaped upon the Irish lines; sins have been assumed from which they
are free, and their virtues have ever been ignored. John Bright once
said that "Railways have rendered more service and received less
gratitude than any institution in the land." This is certainly true of
Ireland, for nothing has ever conferred such benefit upon that country as
its railways, and nothing, except perhaps the Government, has received so
much abuse. On this I shall have more to say when I reach the period of
the Vice-Regal Commission on Irish Railways, appointed in 1906.
The average number of miles _operated_ per working railway company in
Scotland compared with England and Wales and Ireland, are:--
Scotland 477
England and Wales 156
Ireland 121
and the mileage, capital, revenue, expenditure, interest and dividends
for 1912, the latest year of which the figures, owing to the war, are
published by the Board of Trade, are as follows:--
Average rate
of interest
and dividend.
Per cent.
Miles. Capital. Revenue. Expenditure.
Pounds Pounds Pounds
England
and Wales 16,223 1,103,310,000 110,499,000 70,499,000 3-58
Scotland 3,815 186,304,000 13,508,000 7,882,000 3-07
Ireland 3,403 45,349,000 4,545,000 2,842,000 3-83
The General Manager of the Glasgow and South-Western Railway and his
office I have described, but I have not spoken, except in a general way,
of the other principal officers, with whom, as Mr. Wainwright's
assistant, I came into close and intimate relationship. They, alas! are
no more. I have outlived them all. Each has played his part, and made,
as we all must do, his exit from the stage of life.
Prominent amongst these officers was John Mathieson, Superintendent of
the Line, who was only twenty-nine when appointed to that responsible
post. We became good friends. He began work at the early age of
thirteen, had grown up on the railway and at nineteen was a station
master. He was skilful in out-door railway work, and an adept in
managing trains and traffic. Ambitious and a bit touchy regarding his
office, all was not always peace between his and other departments,
particularly the goods manager's. The goods manager was not aggressive,
and it was sometimes thought that Mathieson inclined to encroach upon his
territory. Often angry correspondence and sometimes angry discussion
ensued. Yet, take him for all in all, John Mathieson was a fine man with
nothing small in his composition. Soon his ambition was gratified. In
1889 he was appointed Chief Commissioner of the Railways of Queensland;
and after a few years occupation of that post was invited by the
Victorian Government to the same position in connection with the railways
of that important State. In 1900 he left Australia and became General
Manager of the Midland Railway; but his health unfortunately soon failed,
and at the comparatively early age of sixty he died at Derby in the year
1906. In his early days, on the Glasgow and South-Western, Mathieson was
a hard fighter. Those were the days when between the Scottish railway
companies the keenest rivalry and the bitterest competition existed. The
Clearing House in London, where the railway representatives met
periodically to discuss and arrange rates and fares and matters relating
to traffic generally, was the scene of many a battle. Men like James
MacLaren of the North British, Tom Robertson of the Highland, Irvine
Kempt of the Caledonian, and A. G. Reid of the Great North of Scotland
were worthy of Mathieson's steel. Usually Mathieson held his own. Irvine
Kempt I cannot imagine was as keen a fighter as the rest, for he was
rather a dignified gentleman with fine manners. To gain a few tons of
fish from a rival route, by superior service, keen canvassing, or by
other less legitimate means, was a source of fierce joy to these ardent
spirits. The disputes were sometimes concerned with through traffic
between England and Scotland, and then the English railway
representatives took part, but not with the keenness and intensity of
their northern brethren, for the Saxon blood has not the fiery quality of
the crimson stream that courses through the veins of the Celt. Now all
is changed. Combination has succeeded to competition, alliances and
agreements are the tranquil order of the day, and the Clearing House has
become a Temple of Peace.
Between David Dickie, Goods Manager, and John Mathieson, Passenger
Superintendent, as I have said, many differences arose. I sometimes
thought that Mathieson might well have shown more consideration to one so
much his senior in years as Dickie was. Poor Dickie! Before I left
Scotland he met a tragic death. He was a kind-hearted man, a canny Scot,
and died rich.
James Stirling was the Locomotive Superintendent. He and Mathieson did
not always agree, and the clash of arms frequently raged between them.
Mr. Wainwright's suavity often, and not infrequently his authority, were
required to adjust these domestic broils, but as all deferred to him
willingly, the storms that arose were usually short lived.
In 1878 Mathieson and I took a short holiday together and crossed to
Ireland. It was our first visit to that unquiet but delightful country,
in which, little as I thought then, I was destined a few years later to
make my home.
It was in January, 1879, that the headquarters of the company were
removed from the old and narrow Bridge Street Station to the new palatial
St. Enoch, and there a splendid set of offices was provided. This was
another advantage much to my taste. St. Enoch was and is certainly a
most handsome and commodious terminus. Originally it had one great roof
of a single span, second only to that of St. Pancras Station. Other
spans, not so great, have since been added, for the business of St. Enoch
rapidly grew, and enlarged accommodation soon became necessary. In 1879
it had six long and spacious platforms, now it has twelve; then the
number of trains in and out was 43 daily, now it has reached 286; then
the mileage of the railway was 319, now it is 466; then the employees of
the company numbered 4,010 and now they are over 10,000. These figures
exemplify the material growth of industrial Scotland in the forty years
that have passed. St. Enoch Station was not disfigured by trade
advertisements, and it is with great satisfaction I learn that the same
good taste has prevailed to this day. Not long after it was opened a
great grocery and provision firm, the knightly head of which is still a
well-known name, offered to the company a large annual sum for the use of
the space under the platform clock, which could be seen from all parts of
the station, which the directors, on the representation of their general
manager, declined; and I am proud to remember that my own views on the
subject, pretty forcibly expressed, when my chief discussed the subject
with me, strengthened his convictions and helped to carry the day in the
board room. The indiscriminate and inartistic way in which throughout
the land advertisements of all sorts crowd our station walls and
platforms is an outrage on good taste. If advertisements must appear
there, some hand and eye endowed with the rudiments of art ought to
control them. In no country in the world does the same ugly display mar
the appearance of railway stations; and considering what myriad eyes
daily rest on station premises it is well worth while on aesthetic
grounds to make their appearance as pleasant and as little vulgar as
possible. The question of revenue to the companies need not be ignored
for proper and efficient control would produce order, moderation,
neatness, artistic effect--and profit.
With the principal clerks of the office staff my relations were very
pleasant. The consideration with which I was treated by my chief, and
the footing upon which I stood with him, gave me a certain influence
which otherwise I should not have possessed. Till then there had been
absent from the company's staff any gathering together for purposes of
common interest or mutual enjoyment. The _Railway Benevolent
Institution_ provided a rallying point. I had been appointed its
representative on the Glasgow and South-Western Railway and we held
meetings and arranged concerts in its aid. Then, after a time, we
established for the principal clerks and goods agents and certain grades
of station masters, an annual day excursion into the country, with a
dinner and songs and speeches. "Tatlow is good at the speak," said
publicly one of my colleagues, in his broad Scotch way, and so far as it
was true this I daresay helped me. I was made permanent president of
these excursions and feasts, and often had to "hold forth," which I must
confess I rather enjoyed. We christened ourselves _The Railway
Ramblers_. The fact that I became the Scotch correspondent of the
_Railway Official Gazette_, a regular contributor to the _Railway News_,
and had access to the columns of several newspapers, enabled reports of
our doings to appear in print, and diffused some pleasure and pride
throughout the service. Also I became a weekly contributor of _Scotch
Notes_ to the _Montreal Herald_. In the _Railway Official Gazette_ was a
column devoted to short reviews of new books which were sent to the
editor. For a time, from some reason or other, I undertook this
reviewing. Possession of the books was the only recompense, though for
all other work payment in money was made. It was a daring thing on my
part and I am sure many a reader of the paper must have smiled at my
criticisms. I forget why I soon gave up the duty; probably from
incompetence, for I am sure I was not at all qualified for such a task;
but what will the audacity of youth not attempt? This journalistic work
occupied much of my spare time, but it supplemented my income, a
consideration of no little importance, for in October, 1876, I had
entered the married state. My wife came from the Midlands of England. My
friends became her friends, and other friends we made. Children soon
appeared on the scene; my bachelor days were over.
Societies amongst the staff of a railway company, whether for the purpose
of physical recreation, for mutual improvement or for social enjoyment
are to be much commended. The assembling together of employees of
various ages, filling various positions, from the several departments,
from different districts, freed from business, and mixing on equal terms
for common objects, promotes good feeling and good fellowship, provides
pleasant memories for after life, gives a zest to work, and adds to the
efficiency of the service.
Amongst all my fellow clerks I remember one only who resembled as a
borrower some of my quondam associates at Derby. But this was in
Scotland where more provident ways prevailed. He was a married man,
about 30 years of age, with a salary of 100 pounds a year. By no means
what one would call a nice fellow, he had nothing of the _bonhomie_ or
light-hearted good nature that distinguished my Derby friends. He
possessed a good figure, wore fierce moustaches, and affected a military
air. One suit of well-made, well-cut clothes by some means or other he
managed to keep in a state of freshness and smoothness nothing short of
marvellous. Borrowing was his besetting sin, and he was always head over
ears in debt. Duns pursued him to the office and he sometimes hid from
them in a huge safe which the office contained. It was a wretched life,
but he brazened it out with wonderful effrontery, and, outwardly, seemed
happy enough. From all who would lend he borrowed, and rarely I believe
repaid. Once I was his victim, but only once. I lent him 3 pounds, and,
strange to say, he returned it. Of course he approached me again, but I
had read and digested the _master's_ wisdom and determined to "neither a
borrower nor a lender be."
Prominent amongst the principal clerks was David Cooper. When I left
Glasgow he succeeded me as assistant to the general manager. Now he is
general manager of the company himself. Recently he celebrated his 50th
year of railway service. Like me, he entered railway life in 1867; but,
unlike me, has not been a rolling stone. One company only he has served
and served it well, and for nearly a quarter of a century has filled the
highest office it has to bestow. He and I have been more fortunate than
many of our old-time colleagues. In the list of officers of the Glasgow
and South-Western to-day I see the names of two only, besides David
Cooper, who were principal clerks in those days--F. H. Gillies, now
secretary of the company, and George Russell, Telegraph Superintendent.
In railways, as in other departments of life, ability and industry
usually have their reward; but alone they do not always command success.
Other factors there are in the equation of life and not least luck and
opportunity. In those distant days, in the pride of youth, I was too apt
to think that they who succeeded owed their success to themselves alone;
but the years have taught me that this is not always so, and I have
learned to sympathise more and more with those to whom opportunity has
never held out her hand and upon whom good luck has never smiled.