KING EDWARD, A CHANGE OF CHAIRMEN, AND MORE RAILWAY LEGISLATION
The memorable visit to Ireland of His Majesty King Edward, in the summer
of 1903, which embraced all parts of the country, furnished I think no
incident so unique as his reception in Connemara. On the morning of the
30th July the Royal Yacht anchored off Leenane, in Killery Bay, and His
Majesty landed in Connaught. He was accompanied by Queen Alexandra and
Princess Victoria. This was the first time, I believe, that the people
west of the Shannon had seen their King, and whatever their politics, or
aspirations were, he was certainly received with every manifestation of
sincere good will. His genial personality and ingratiating _bonhomie_,
his humanity, and his sportsmanlike characteristics, appealed at once to
Irish instincts, and Connaught was as enthusiastic in its welcome as the
rest of Ireland. The Royal party motored from Leenane to Recess, where
they lunched at the Company's hotel, and where, of course, the Chairman,
directors and chief officers of the railway, as well as local magnates,
were assembled to assist in the welcome. On nearing Recess a surprise
awaited the King. He was met by the "Connemara Cavalry," which escorted
the Royal Party to the hotel and acted as bodyguard. Mr. John
O'Loughlin, of Cashel, had organised this new and unexpected addition to
His Majesty's Forces. It consisted of about 100 farmers, farmer's sons
and labourers, of all ages from 18 to 80, mounted (mostly bareback) on
hardy Connemara ponies. "Buffalo Bill" hats, decorated with the Royal
colours or with green ribbon streamers, distinguished them from others.
It was a striking scene, unexpected, novel, unique; but quite in harmony
with the surroundings and the wild and romantic scenery of Connemara and
the Killeries. The King plainly showed his hearty appreciation. After
lunch their Majesties visited the marble quarries, situated some three
miles distant, and reached by a rough and rocky precipitous mountain
road, for which motor cars were entirely unsuited. For this journey the
marble quarry people had ordered a carriage and horses from Dublin, but
which, by some unfortunate occurrence, had not turned up. Though the
only carriage available in the neighbourhood was ill-suited for royalty,
the King and Queen, good naturedly, made little of that. They were too
delighted with the unmistakable warmth of their welcome to mind such a
trifle. Again the "Cavalry" were in attendance and escorted the party to
the quarries and back.
The Royal visit to Ireland, on the whole, was an unqualified success, and
there were many who hoped and believed that the King's good will towards
the country and its people, and his remarkable gifts as a peacemaker,
would in some way help to a solution of the Irish question; but, alas!
that question is with us still, and when and how it will be solved no man
can tell. For myself, I am one of those who indulge in _hope_,
remembering that Time, in his healing course, has a way of adjusting
human misunderstandings and of bringing about the seemingly impossible.
It was in this year (1903) that I first met Charles Dent, the present
General Manager of the Great Northern Railway of England. He had been
appointed General Manager of the Great Southern and Western Railway in
succession to R. G. Colhoun. Dent and I often met. We found we could do
good work for our respective companies by reducing wasteful competition
and adopting methods of friendly working. In this we were very
successful. A man of few words, disdaining all unnecessary formalities,
but getting quickly at the heart and essence of things, it was always a
pleasure to do business with him.
In this year also I enjoyed some variety by way of an inquiry which I
made for the Board of Works, concerning certain proposed light railway
extensions, called the Ulster and Connaught, and which involved the
ticklish task of estimating probable traffic receipts and working
expenses--a task for which the gift of prophecy almost is needed. To
determine, in this uncertain world, the future of a railway in embryo
might puzzle the wisest; but, with the confidence of the expert, I faced
the problem and, I hope, arrived at conclusions which were at least
within a mile of the mark.
In 1904 that fine old railway veteran, Sir Ralph Cusack, resigned his
position of Chairman of the Midland and was succeeded by the Honourable
Richard Nugent, youngest son of the ninth Earl of Westmeath; Major H. C.
Cusack, Sir Ralph's nephew and son-in-law, becoming Deputy Chairman--the
first (excepting for a few brief months in 1903 when Mr. Nugent occupied
the position) the Midland ever had. With Sir Ralph's vacation of the
chair, autocratic rule on the Midland, which year by year, had steadily
been growing less, disappeared entirely and for ever. Well, Sir Ralph in
his long period of office had served the Midland faithfully, with a
single eye to its interests, and good wishes followed him in his
retirement. Mr. Nugent was a small man, that is physically, but
intellectually was well endowed. He had scholarly tastes and business
ability in pretty equal parts. Movement and activity he loved, and, as
he often told me, preferred a holiday in Manchester or Birmingham to the
Riviera or Italian Lakes. He liked to be occupied, was fond of details,
and possessed a lively curiosity. Sometimes he was thought, as a
chairman, to err in the direction of too rigid economy, but on a railway
such as the Midland, and in a country such as Ireland, economy was and is
an excellent thing, and if he erred, it was on the right side. Truth,
candour, courage and enthusiasm marked his character in a high degree.
Fearless in speech, the art of dissimulation he never learned. I shall
not readily forget a speech he once made at the Railway Companies'
Association in London. It was on an occasion of great importance, when
all the principal companies of the United Kingdom were present. It was
altogether unpremeditated, provoked by other speeches with which he
disagreed, and its directness and courage--for it was a bold and frank
expression of honest conviction, such as tells in any assembly--created
some stir and considerable comment. Of plain homely mother-wit he had an
uncommon share, and his mind was stored with quotations which came out in
his talk with wonderful ease and aptness. A shrewd observer, his
comments (always good-natured if critical) on his fellow men were worth
listening to.
Our almost daily intercourse was intimate and frank. Sometimes we
wandered into the pleasant fields of poetry and literature, but never to
the neglect of business. He had an advantage that I greatly envied; a
splendid memory; could repeat verse after verse, stanza upon stanza,
whole cantos almost, from his favourite poet, Byron. It was at the half-
yearly meetings of shareholders (they were held half-yearly in his day)
that he specially shone, not in his address to them (for that he _would_
persist in reading) but in the after proceedings when the heckling began.
This, during his chairmanship, was often severe enough, for owing to
unavoidably increased expenditure, dividends were diminishing and
shareholders, in consequence, were in anything but complacent mood.
Question time always put him on his mettle. Then his mother-wit came
out, his lively humour and practical common sense--all unstudied and
natural. The effect was striking. Rarely did he fail in disarming
criticism, producing harmony, and sending away dissentients in good
temper, though some of them, I know, sometimes afterwards wondered how it
came about that they had been so easily placated.
From 1903 to 1906 several Acts of Parliament affecting railways generally
came into force, four of which were of sufficient importance to merit
attention. The first, the _Railways (Electric Power) Act_, 1903, was a
measure to facilitate the introduction and use of electrical power on
railways, and invested the Board of Trade with authority to make Orders
for that purpose, which were to have the same effect as if enacted by
Parliament.
The second, the _Railway Fires Act_, 1905, was an Act to give
compensation for damage by fires caused by sparks or cinders from railway
engines, and increased the liability of railway companies. It _inter
alia_, enacted that the fact that the offending engine was used under
statutory powers should not affect liability in any action for damage.
Next came the _Trades Disputes Act_, 1906, a short measure of five
clauses, but none the less of great importance; a democratic law with a
vengeance! It is one of the four Acts which A. A. Baumann, in his recent
book, describes as being "in themselves a revolution," and of this
particular Act he says it "placed the Trade Unions beyond the reach of
the laws of contract and of tort." It also legalised peaceful picketing,
that particular form of persuasion with which a democratic age has become
only too familiar.
Lastly, the _Workmen's Compensation Act_, of 1906, an Act to consolidate
and amend the law with respect to compensation to workmen for injuries
suffered in the course of their employment, is on the whole a beneficial
and useful measure, to which we have grown accustomed.
In these years I had other holiday trips abroad; some with my family to
France and Switzerland, and two with my friend, John Kilkelly. One of
these two was to Denmark and Germany; the other to Monte Carlo and the
Riviera. In Germany, at Altona, we saw the Kaiser "in shining armour,"
fresh from the autumnal review of his troops, though indeed I should
scarcely say _fresh_, for he looked tired and pale, altogether different
to the stern bronzed warrior depicted in his authorised photographic
presentments which confronted us at every turn. Kilkelly was a busy, but
never seemed an overworked man, due I suppose to some constitutional
quality he enjoyed. Added to a good professional business of his own, he
was Solicitor to the Midland, Crown Solicitor for County Armagh,
Solicitor to the Galway County Council, and, in _his leisure hours_,
farmed successfully some seven or eight hundred acres. He had a fine
portly presence, and though modesty itself, could not help looking as if
he were _somebody_, like the stranger in London, accosted by Theodore
Hook in the Strand, who was of such imposing appearance that the wit
stopped him and said: "I beg your pardon, sir, but, may I ask, are you
anybody in particular?"
At Monte Carlo we both lost money but revelled in abundant sunshine, and
contemplated phases of humanity that to us were new and strange. Soon we
grew tired of the gaming table and its glittering surroundings, bade it
adieu, and explored other parts of the Riviera, moving at our ease from
scene to scene and from place to place.
Kilkelly was an excellent travelling companion, readily pleased, and
taking things as they came with easy philosophy. But never more shall we
travel together, at home or abroad. A year ago, at the age of 82, he
passed from among us on the last long journey which we all must take.
_Requiescat in pace_!