As soon as I took up office at Broadstone, Sir Ralph informed me I was to be chairman of the Midland Great Western Benefit Society, which was partly a sick fund, partly a pension fund and applied to all the wages staff. It was managed by a committee of twelve, half of whom were appointed by the directors and half by the employees. Gladly I undertook a post which would bring me into close touch with the men. I made a point of never, if I could help it, being absent from a committee meeting; nor, more particularly, from the annual general meeting of the society when I had to give an address. It was always to me a pleasure to meet the men, to learn their views, and to help them as far as I could. This they soon discovered, and I had the satisfaction of knowing that I was liked and trusted. Early in life I had learned to sympathise with the wants and wishes of others, and sympathy I found increased one’s power of usefulness. By sympathy I do not mean agreeing always with the men and their views, and I never hesitated to strongly express to them my own convictions, and rarely it was that they ever in the least resented the plainest speaking. I believe if the responsible leaders of labour would follow a similar course, it would be better for themselves, for the men they lead, and for the world at large. The deputy-chairman of the society was Michael O’Neill, the audit accountant of the company, and if ever a plain-spoken man, blunt and direct of speech existed, it was he. Every word he spoke had the ring of honest sincerity. To the men he spoke more plainly even than I, and him they never resented. I think their trust in him exceeded their trust in me. True he was Irish and I was not, and then they had known him much longer than me; and so, small blame to them, said I. One good thing for the society I managed to do. I induced the directors to treble the company’s annual contribution to its funds, a substantial benefit, of course, to the men. I remained chairman of the society, and Michael O’Neill its deputy chairman till 1912, when the National Insurance Act came into operation. Then, by a resolution of a majority of its members, it was wound up, to the regret, however, of many of them, who preferred their own old institution which they knew so well, and in the management of which they had a voice, to what some of them styled “a new-fangled thing.”
The occasions on which I have met, for the first time, men eminent in the railway world, and for whom I have had great admiration, have always left upon me very clear impressions, and this was particularly so in the case of Sir George Findlay, the General Manager of the London and North-Western Railway. He was not, however, Sir George when I met him first, but plain Mr. Findlay. It was in the year 1891, the occasion being one of the periodical visits to Ireland of the London and North-Western chairman, directors, and principal officers. They gave a dinner at their hotel in Dublin to which, with other Irish railway representatives, I was invited. My seat at dinner was next to Mr. Findlay, and I had much conversation with him. Then in his sixty-third year, he was, perhaps, interested in a young Englishman, 21 years his junior, who had not long begun his career as a railway manager, and who showed some eagerness in, and, perhaps, a little knowledge of, railway affairs.
I remember well the impression he made upon me. I felt I was in the presence of a strong, natural man, gifted with great discernment and ability but full also of human kindness. His face was one which expressed that goodness which the consciousness of power imparts to strong natures. He was a notable as well as what is called “a self-made” man, a fact of which he never boasted but I think was a little proud. He commenced work at the early age of fourteen as a mason—a boy help he could only have been—and continued a mason for several years. He was employed in the building of the new Houses of Parliament and much of the stone work and delicate tracery of the great window at the east end of Westminster Hall is the work of his hands. In his twenty-third year he became manager of the Shrewsbury and Ludlow Railway—probably the youngest railway manager recorded. Ten years later the Shrewsbury railway was acquired by the London and North-Western company, and Findlay, to use his own words, “was taken over with the rest of the rolling stock.” This was how his London and North-Western railway career began. He was a tall, portly man of fine presence, distinguished by a large measure of strong, plain, homely commonsense, an absence of prejudice, a great calmness of judgment, and a fearless frankness of speech. His sense of honour was very high, and he impressed upon the service of which he was the executive head that the word of the London and North-Western Railway must always be its bond. “Be slow to promise and quick to perform,” was his guiding precept. A born organiser and administrator, he knew how to select his men. Before Parliamentary Committees he was the best of witnesses, always cool and resourceful, with great command of temper, full of knowledge, and blest with a ready wit. His services as witness and expert adviser were in great request by railway companies. At the long Board of Trade Inquiry in connection with the Railway and Canal Traffic Act and Railway Rates and Charges, in 1889, he was the principal railway witness and was under examination and cross-examination for eight consecutive days. He had a real love for Ireland, was partly Irish himself, his father being Scotch and his mother Irish—a fine blend. Fishing was his chief recreation and this often brought him to the lakes and rivers of Ireland. He asked, was I the son of William Tatlow of the Midland Railway, whom he had met a good many years before on some coal rates question? On my saying, Yes, he was pleased to know that I belonged to a railway family; and said what a fine service the great railway service was, how absorbing the work and what scope it afforded for ambition and ability. He asked about my railway experience, was amused at my reason for leaving Derby and the Midland, and interested at hearing of my work with Mr. Wainwright, whom he had known and esteemed. He was sure I had learned nothing but good from him. I was able, and very glad, of course, to tell Mr. Findlay with what interest Bailey and I had listened for several days to his evidence at Westminster Hall at the Railway Rates Inquiry, and how much we had profited by it. This led to some talk on the great rates question, of which he was a master. I felt he was just a bit surprised to find that I was rather well informed upon it, which made me not a little proud. Altogether it was a memorable night, and left me with a feeling of elation such as I had experienced in the meetings I had in Glasgow some years before with Mr. John Burns and Mr. John Walker. How little I thought then, that in less than two years I should follow Mr. Findlay’s remains to the grave.
Between the London and North-Western and the Midland Great-Western much good feeling existed. They were natural allies, both greatly interested in the trade and prosperity of Ireland, and of the port of Dublin in particular. As time went on many matters of mutual interest brought me into close relation with the North-Western general manager and other prominent officers of the company.
The long-looked for fight in the Committee Rooms at Westminster came at last, as most things that are eagerly looked and longed for do. In May, 1892, a Bill, promoted jointly by the Midland Great-Western and Athenry and Ennis Railway Companies, was considered by a Select Committee of the House of Lords. It was a Bill for the acquisition by the Midland of the Ennis Railway (a line from Athenry to Ennis, 36 miles long), worked but not owned by the Waterford and Limerick Railway Company. The Midland were anxious to buy and the Ennis were willing to sell, but Parliament alone could legalise the bargain. To the Waterford and Limerick, the bare idea of giving up possession of the fair Ennis to their rival the Midland was gall and wormwood; and so they opposed the project with might and main, and they were assisted in their opposition by certain public bodies, some thought as much for the excitement of a skirmish in the Committee Rooms as anything else. The working agreement between the Waterford and Limerick and the Ennis Companies, which had lasted for ten years or so, was expiring; the Ennis Company had grown tired of the union; the Midland had held out to her certain glowing prospects, which had captivated her maiden fancy, and so she was a consenting party to the Midland scheme. The Ennis line, in the Midland eyes, was a prize worth fighting for, forming, as it did, part of a route from Dublin to Limerick in competition with the Great Southern and Western, a company between which and the Midland, at that time, little love was lost. Those were the days when competitive traffic, gained almost at any cost, was sweet as stolen kisses are said to be.
The proceedings opened on Monday, 16th May. Ennis was as familiar to the Committee Rooms as the suit of Jarndyce and Jarndyce was to the Court of Chancery. In 1880 the Midland had also sought by Bill to obtain the fair Ennis (with her consent) but had failed; in 1890 the Waterford and Limerick (against her wishes) had essayed to do the same and failed also, and in years long prior to these, other attempts had been made with the like result. But to proceed: our leading counsel were Sir Ralph (then Mr.) Littler; Mr. Pember, Mr. Pope and other leaders, and a host of juniors being arrayed against us. The straitened circumstances of the Waterford and Limerick; its dearth of rolling stock; its inefficient ways; its failure to satisfy the public; the admitted superiority of the Midland and all its works; the splendid results which would “follow as the night the day,” if only Parliament would be wise enough to sanction a union which the public interest demanded and commonsense approved—these were the points on which our counsel exercised their forensic skill, expended their eloquence, and to which they directed the evidence. Amongst our supporters we had some excellent witnesses, one, a well-known cattle dealer, named Martin Ryan. The question of running powers was prominent throughout the case and had been much debated and discussed. Ryan’s evidence was not, however, concerned with this, but in his cross-examination, relative to something he had stated in his evidence-in-chief, he was asked this question: “If a beast got on to the line as a train came along, what would happen to the beast?” “It would exercise its running powers,” answered Mr. Ryan, amidst great laughter. As good as Stephenson’s answer about the “coo,” said Mr. Pope.
On the fourth day of the proceedings I made my début as a Parliamentary witness. In the preparation of my evidence I had expended much time and trouble, keeping well in mind the way in which Mr. Wainwright used to prepare his. Before my examination-in-chief concluded, a short adjournment for lunch took place—a scramble at the refreshment bars in the lobbies, where wig and gown elbowed with all and sundry; where cold beef, cold tongue, cold pie, and, coldest of all cold comestibles, cold custard, were swallowed in hot haste, washed down with milk and soda, or perhaps with something stronger. “Quick lunches” they were with a vengeance. Time was money, and in the brief interval allowed, more than lunch had to be discussed. Sir Ralph, Mr. Findlay (who was helping us) and I, had our hasty lunch together. When it was over we discussed the morning’s proceedings, and Mr. Findlay, to my great satisfaction, said I was doing well—very well indeed, for a first appearance. Then, in a kind and fatherly way, he gave me some good advice: Don’t show too much eagerness, he said: don’t go quite so much into detail; keep on broader lines; speak deliberately and very distinctly; make your points as plain as a pikestaff; rub them well in; don’t try to make too many points, but stick fast to the important ones. You’ve a good manner in the box, he said; remember these things and you’ll make an excellent witness. Then he added: above all, whilst giving your leading evidence never forget the cross that has to follow. Be always as frank as you can, and never lose command of your temper. These were not his very words. I do not pretend that he expressed himself with such sententious brevity, though he never wasted speech, but they are the pith and marrow of his admonitions. For twenty years or so from then nearly every session saw me in the Committee Rooms, not always on the business of my own company, as other Irish railway companies on several occasions sought my help in their Parliamentary projects. Mr. Findlay’s advice I never forgot.
In the afternoon my cross-examination began. The final question put to me by our counsel was: “Lastly, if this amalgamation is carried out, do you think the public would be served by it, and if so, how?” This appeared to me a great chance for a little speech, so I summed up as forcibly and graphically as I could all the advantages that would follow if the Bill were passed. Then my cross-examination commenced, and the first words addressed to me, by Mr. Pembroke Stephens, were: “I do not think that one could have made a better speech oneself, if one had been on your side.” “Not half so good,” said Mr. Littler in a stage whisper. I thought Mr. Stephens spoke satirically, but remembered Mr. Findlay’s advice, and if I flushed inwardly, as I believe I did, no outward sign escaped me. After Mr. Stephens, three other opposing counsel fired their guns, but I withstood their shot and shell, and when I came out of the box Mr. Findlay said I had done well. This was praise enough for me. Then he gave his evidence in his usual masterly convincing way and I listened in admiration.
We made a good fight I know, the odds were in our favour and success seemed assured. Our opponents then presented their case, and still we felt no doubt; but Fortune is a fickle jade and at the last she left us in the lurch. On the eighth day of the proceedings the Chairman announced: “The Committee are of opinion that it is not expedient to proceed with the Bill.” This was the coup de grace. No reasons are ever given by a Committee for their decision and the contending parties are left to imagine them. The losing side sometimes has the hardihood to think a decision is wrong. I believe we thought so; and I know that Ennis, who was thus doomed to a further period of single blessedness, thought the same.
In a previous chapter I have spoken of the Parcel Post Act of 1882, and mentioned the share of the receipts apportioned to the railway companies of the United Kingdom. The Act also prescribed the manner in which this share was to be divided amongst the respective railways. When it was devised the method seemed fair to all, and had the consent of all. But the best of theories do not always stand the test of practice and so it was found in this case. It did not suit Ireland. We discovered that the Irish railways were, in equity, entitled to more than the scheme awarded them, and Mr. Alcorn, the Accountant of the Great Southern and Western Railway, discovered the way to set the matter right; but it could not be righted without the consent of the Parcel Post Conference, a body which sat at the Railway Clearing House in London, and was composed of the managers of all the railways parties to the parcel post scheme, some eighty or so in number. On the 10th November, 1892, we brought our case before that body, and Colhoun, Robertson and I were the spokesmen for the Irish Railways. On the previous day we had met Sir George Findlay (he had been knighted this year) and had satisfied him of the justice of our claim. He promised to support us. The meeting commenced at 10 o’clock. We made our speeches, which were not long, for our printed statement had been in each member’s hands for some time. Clear as our case was to us the Conference seemed unconvinced, and we began to fear an adverse vote. Sir George was not present, something had happened, for he was not the man to disappoint his friends without grave cause. Voting seemed imminent. Robertson whispered to me, “For heaven’s sake, Tatlow, get on your legs again and keep the thing going; Findlay may be here any moment.” I was supposed to be the glibbest of speech of our party, and up I got. But Mr. Thompson (afterwards Sir James), the beau, was in the chair, and thought there had been talking enough. However, like the Irishman I was not, I went on, and—at that moment entered Sir George! The scene was changed; the day was won! A Sub-Committee of seven, three of whom were Colhoun, Robertson and myself, was appointed to follow up the matter, and ultimately the Irish proposal was adopted.
It was a very busy period, this year of 1892, and as interesting as busy. On the 20th June the Railway Rates and Charges (Athenry and Ennis Junction Railways) Order Confirmation Act, 1892, received the Royal Assent. It applied to all the railways in Ireland and contained the Revised Classification and Maximum Rates and Charges settled after long inquiries under the Railway and Canal Traffic Act, 1888, and which were to control the future rates to be charged by the companies. Only six months were allowed in which to revise all rates and bring them into conformity with the new classification and the new conditions—an absurdly short time, for the work involved was colossal. But it had to be done. Robert Morrison, Michael O’Neill and I, took off our coats and worked night and day. We had the satisfaction of accomplishing the task in the allotted time, which not every company was able to do. Generous, as always, Sir Ralph in his speech to the shareholders in February, 1893, said: “I wish to express that we are greatly indebted to Mr. Tatlow for the care and anxiety with which he has endeavoured to arrange this important rates matter. He has worked most energetically; has attended the Committees of the Board of Trade, and the Parliamentary Committee, and he is now seeing traders constantly. I may tell you that I and my brother directors place the most implicit reliance on our manager, and I am satisfied that anything he has done has been reasonable to the traders and for the benefit of the shareholders.” This was warm praise, and the more welcome, being, as it was, the spontaneous expression of what I knew he felt.
My meetings with the traders usually, but not invariably, resulted in friendly settlements. The great firm of Guinness and Company were not so easily satisfied, and offered a stout resistance which correspondence and conference failed to overcome. Under the Railway and Canal Traffic Act a mode of dealing with the impasse was provided by conciliation proceedings presided over by the Board of Trade. This we took advantage of, and after several meetings in London a compromise was effected. It was then that I met for the first time Mr. Francis Hopwood, who had just been appointed Secretary to the Railway Department of the Board of Trade. I liked his way and thought that conciliation could not be in better hands than his.
The Board of Trade is more or less a mythical body, but very practical I found it on these and all other occasions. Its proper designation is, I believe, “Committee of Privy Council for Trade.” This Committee was first appointed in Cromwell’s time, and was revised under Charles II., as “Committee of Privy Council for Trade and Foreign Plantations,” under which title it administered the Colonies. When the United States became independent, Burke in a scathing speech, moved and carried the abolition of this paid Committee, which included Gibbon as its Secretary. However, the Board of Trade could not be spared, and so it was restored by Order in Council in 1786. Under that order the principal officers of State, and certain members of the Privy Council, including the Archbishop of Canterbury, have, ex officio, seats on the Committee, although no record exists of His Grace having ever left his arduous duties at Lambeth to attend the Committee. Its jurisdiction extended as trade and commerce developed and railways appeared on the scene, and gradually it was divided into departments, and so the Board of Trade came into being. Like Topsy it “grow’d.” The Board of Trade is, in fact, a mere name, the president being practically the secretary for trade, the vice-president having, for 50 years past, been a Parliamentary secretary with duties similar to those of an under-secretary of State. At present, besides the president (who has usually a seat in the Cabinet), the Parliamentary secretary and a permanent secretary, there are six assistant secretaries (in late war time many more), each in charge of a department.
In charge of the railway department in 1893 was, as I have said, Mr. Francis Hopwood. He became Sir Francis in 1906, and from then onwards advanced from office to office and from honour to honour, until, during his secretaryship of the Irish Convention in 1917, his public services were rewarded with a peerage. As railway secretary of the Board of Trade he was particularly distinguished for tact, strength and moderation. Singularly courteous and obliging on all occasions, I, personally, have been much indebted to him for help and advice.
But all was not sunshine and happiness in this busy year of 1892. A dark cloud of sorrow overshadowed it. On a fateful day in January I lost, with tragic suddenness, the younger of my two sons, a bright amiable boy, of a sunny nature and gentle disposition. He was accidentally killed on the railway.
In Chapter XX I recorded the death of my old friend W. F. Mills, which took place whilst I was writing that chapter. Now, as I pen these lines, I hear of the loss of another old familiar railway friend; not indeed a sentient being like you, dear reader, or him or me, yet a friend that lacked neither perception nor feeling.
The Railway News on Saturday, the 30th day of November, 1918, issued its last number, and, as a separate entity, ceased to be, its existence then merging into that of the Railway Gazette. I am sad and sorry for I knew it well. For forty years it was my week-end companion; for ten years or more, in the April of life, I contributed regularly to its pages; and never, during all the years, have its columns been closed to my pen. One of its editors, F. McDermott, has long been my friend, and its first editor, Edward McDermott, his father, a grand old man, was kind to me in my salad days and encouraged my budding scribbling proclivities. He and Samuel Smiles, the author of Self Help (then Secretary of the South Eastern Railway), were, in 1864, its joint founders.
“Death,” the Psalmist saith, “is certain to all.” In 1893, the railway world lost one whom it could ill spare. In the month of March, after a short illness, Sir George Findlay died at the early age of 63. Gifted of the gods, in the midst of his work, young in mind and spirit, his faculties in full vigour, he was suddenly called away. His funeral, I need not say, was attended by railway men from all parts of the kingdom. I was one of those who travelled to London to follow his remains to their resting place.
Further public railway legislation was enacted in 1893 and 1894, and four important Acts were passed. The first was the Railway Regulation Act, 1893. It dealt with the hours of labour of railway servants, a subject which for some time previously had been enjoying the attention of the Press. It culminated in the appointment of a Parliamentary Committee. In February, 1891, a Select Committee, consisting of 24 members, with Sir Michael Hicks Beach as chairman, was formed, “To inquire whether, and if so, in what way, the hours of railway servants should be restricted by legislation.” The Committee examined numerous railway servants and officials, and reported to Parliament, in June, 1892. I was summoned by the Committee to give evidence and appeared before them in London on 24th March of that year. My business was to furnish facts concerning the hours of duty of the employees on my own railway and the conditions of their work. This I did pretty fully and embraced the opportunity of showing how different were the circumstances of Irish railways compared with English, and how legislation suitable to one country might be very unsuitable to the other. It scarcely needed saying that England was an industrial country whilst Ireland was agricultural; that England, with 620 people to the square mile, was thickly populated and Ireland with 135 sparsely; that population meant trains and traffic; that in England railway traffic amounted to about £7,000 per mile per annum and in Ireland a little over £1,000; that in Ireland on many lines not more than five or six trains ran each way daily, and on others only three or four, whilst in England, on most lines, the hourly number exceeded these. When the Committee rose Sir Michael engaged me, informally, in conversation for a little while. He was curious concerning some of the facts I had adduced, particularly as to the Midland line and the country it served.
In their report the Committee stated they had confined their inquiry to the hours of duty of those classes of railway servants that were engaged in working traffic, viz., drivers, firemen, guards, signalmen, shunters, platelayers and porters, and had not dealt with other classes; a wise distinction I thought. It was much easier, they said, to regulate the hours of persons occupying fixed posts of duty within reasonable limits, than those of the running staff on railways, on account of the variety in the nature of the work. They reported also that they were unable to recommend a “legal day,” as they considered it would be found impracticable owing to the number of cases which must necessarily be admitted as exceptions to any fixed limit of hours, adding that the hours of railway servants engaged in working traffic cannot be regulated like those in a factory, which, I may add, experience has abundantly shown. I believe, and have always believed, in reasonable working hours, and have often worked unreasonably long hours myself in endeavouring to arrange them for others; and more than once when I have re-arranged a rota for drivers, firemen and guards, to my own satisfaction, I have been begged by the men concerned not to make any change and to let well alone; not, of course, because the new rota gave shorter hours, but because it prevented the men from getting to their homes or interfered with something else that suited them. Sometimes I gave way to the men and sometimes I stuck to my revised rota. Every case varied and required special consideration. The Committee also said: “It is universally admitted that the railway service is very popular under existing conditions; and several railway servants who appeared as witnesses protested vigorously against any interference by Government or the Legislature.” State interference, I know, is the fashion now; but the blind worship of any fashion is but weakness and folly.
The Act of 1893 was the outcome of the Report. It provided that on representation being made to the Board of Trade that the hours of any railway servants were excessive, the Board might inquire into the complaint, and order the company concerned to submit an amended schedule of time and duty for such servants, and if the railway company failed to comply with the order the matter might then be referred to the Railway Commisioners whose order the company must obey under a penalty of £100 a day. I do not think any company was ever fined; nor do I, indeed, remember the Commissioners services being required. If they were, the occasions were few and far between, as the companies generally loyally carried out the provisions of the Act.
In 1894 was passed the Notice of Accidents Act. Where any person employed in the construction, use, working or repair of any railway, tramroad, tramway, gas works, canal bridge, tunnel, harbour, dock or other work authorised by Parliament, suffered (it said) an accident causing loss of life or bodily injury, the employer must notify the Board of Trade, and if the Board of Trade considered the case of sufficient importance, they may (it provided) direct the holding of a formal inquiry; a report of such inquiry to be presented to the Board of Trade, which may (it stated) be made public in such manner as they think fit. As far as accidents to railway servants were concerned, I can vouch that these inquiries were pretty often held, and the companies, concerned always for the safety of their employees, never did other than welcome them.
The Railway and Canal Traffic Act, 1894, was an Act to amend (save the mark!) The Railway and Canal Traffic Act, 1888. Its effect, in fact, was to embitter instead of amend. It was, as I have previously indicated, panic legislation yielded in haste to unreasonable clamour, unfair to the railways, and of doubtful advantage to traders. I will say no more lest I say too much.
The fourth of these enactments was the Diseases of Animals Act, 1894. It invested the Board of Agriculture with further powers to make orders and regulations respecting animals affected with pleuro-pneumonia or foot-and-mouth disease, particularly with regard to markets, fairs, transit and slaughter houses; for securing the providing of water and food; and for cleansing and disinfecting vessels, vehicles and pens. As regards Ireland the powers were vested in the Lord Lieutenant and Privy Council, and on the establishment of the Department of Agriculture for Ireland, in the year 1899, were transferred to that body.
The International Railway Congress Association is an interesting if not an ancient body. It dates back to the year 1885. Gallant little Belgium was its parent. In 1885, the fiftieth anniversary of the opening of the first public railway on the Continent of Europe (the line between Brussels and Malines) was celebrated at Brussels by a Congress convened on the invitation of the Belgian Government, and this meeting was the beginning of the now worldwide association. At the first assembly at Brussels “the study of technical and administrative questions for railways” was the avowed object in view; and it has been the serious purpose of every Congress since. But gradually pleasant relaxations, such as lunches, dinners, dances and excursions, for wives and daughters accompanying husbands and fathers graced these gatherings of railway wisdom. During the first ten years the sessions were bi-annual, but since 1895 have been held every five years. Brussels, Milan, Paris, St. Petersburg, London, Washington and Berne have each been the scene of their celebration, and Paris has been favoured twice. For 1915 Berlin was the capital selected, but the war decided against that; and when Berlin shall see the world’s railway representatives assembled within her gates only a very bold man will venture to prophesy.
The Congress is composed of some 420 railway systems represented by nearly 1,500 delegates; and any railway company, the wide world over, that possesses a mileage of 62 miles or more is competent for membership. In addition to holding Sessions the Congress publishes a monthly Bulletin (or did prior to the war), containing, besides original articles on all questions relating to the construction, operation, and organisation of railways, reproductions of interesting articles published in the railway and engineering papers of any nation, as well as notices of books and pamphlets on railway questions. The Bulletin contains also all reports prepared for the various Sessions of the Congress and minutes of the discussions. It was a great gathering that the late King Edward (then Prince of Wales) opened on June the 26th, 1895, when the Congress was in London. The scene was the Imperial Institute, and the meetings lasted till July the 9th. From all parts of the globe delegates came. All was not dull routine for British hospitality abounded and the companies vied with each other in worthy entertainments, and Her Majesty the Queen saw fit to signalise the occasion by giving a garden party in its honour.
Mr. W. M. Acworth, the well-known writer on railway economics, and a keen but friendly critic of railway affairs, was appointed Secretary to the English Section of the Congress, and to him fell the principal work connected with the Session. His scholarly and linguistic attainments and his varied travels, fitted him well for the task. My eldest son, then a youth of 18, just entered the railway service, had the good fortune to be selected as one of Mr. Acworth’s assistants. He had not long finished his education in France, and spoke the language fluently, which, of course, was a recommendation. It was valuable experience to him as well as delightful work. He conducted several parties of delegates through various parts of England and Ireland in connection with the many excursions that were arranged for their pleasure and profit. The weather was very hot, and railway travelling at times oppressive, even to delegates from the sunny land of France, and shandy-gaff, a beverage new to most of the visitors, was in great request. Said a French delegate one day to my son, as the train was approaching Rugby: “Oh! M’sieu Tatlow, the weather it is so hot; will you not at Rugby give us some of your beautiful char-a-banc?” On another occasion he was asked if he would “be so kind as to give the recipe for making that beautiful toast.”
At the close of the session in London, a number of the foreign delegates, at the invitation of the Irish Railway Companies, visited Ireland, and were shown its railways, and its beauty spots from east to west, from north to south. It is not too much to say they were greatly impressed. The splendid scenery that surrounds the island like a beautiful frame, delighted them, and the excellence of the Irish railways was no little surprise. They did not expect to see such fine carriages, such handsome dining saloons, nor such permanent way and stations. Of course we showed them our best and the best was very good. Ireland is often accused of neglecting her opportunities, but never her hospitality. On this occasion, personified by her railway companies, she neglected neither, and in the latter surpassed herself.
In the autumn of this year I was able to gratify my taste for travel by a longer excursion than usual. Hitherto my furthest flights had been to Paris, Belgium, and Holland, but now I went as far as Spain and Portugal. F. K. was my pleasant companion and we travelled, viâ Paris, straight through to Madrid, where we stayed for a week at the Hotel de la Paix, in the bright and busy and sunny Puerto del Sol. In Madrid we visited the Royal Palace (or so much of it as was shown to the public—principally the Royal stables); the Escurial; the Art Galleries and Museums; drove in the Buen Retiro; witnessed a bull fight, which rather sickened us when the horses, which never stood a chance in the contest, were ripped up by the bull; admired dark-eyed senoritas, their mantillas and coquettish fans, enjoyed the southern sunshine and the Spanish wines; and then left for Lisbon by an express train that stopped at nearly every station. At Lisbon three or four days were pleasantly passed, though we were annoyed sometimes by the crowd of persistent beggars that thronged the streets, and who, we were told, pursued their calling by license from the authorities. This was a small matter, however. He who travels should be proof against such minor annoyances. Then Oporto was visited, and the Douro valley, the very centre of the port wine industry. A young Englishman, a wine merchant, accompanied us in our journey through this sultry valley and was our cicerone. Under his guidance we visited many famous “wine lodges,” sampled wonderful vintages in most generous glasses, drank old port, green port, tawny port, and I am sure too much port, and when, at last, we reached the port of Biarritz, where we stayed for several days, we blessed its lighter wines and refreshing breezes. After Biarritz Bordeaux detained us for a day or two, and so did Paris, which we found very attractive and refreshing in early November.
This year also had for me a delightful week’s interlude, in the month of June, in the Committee Rooms at Westminster. A certain Bill was promoted by an Irish railway company, which we considered an aggressive attempt to invade our territory, and, of course, we vigorously opposed it. Again I had the pleasure of giving evidence and of being crossed-examined by Mr. Pembroke Stephens; but the Bill was passed and became an Act. Further sign of vitality it never showed as the line was never made. It is one thing, by the grace of Parliament to obtain an Act, but quite another by the favour of the public to obtain capital. Parliament is often more easily persuaded than the shrewd investor, as many a too sanguine promoter knows.
By his friends and intimates he was called Tom, and mere acquaintances even usually spoke of him as Tom Robertson. Rarely was he designated Thomas. A man who is known so familiarly is generally a good fellow, and Tom Robertson was no exception, though he possessed some pretty strong qualities, and was particularly fond of getting his own way.
In his early days at the Great Northern, sundry skirmishes at the Clearing House had taken place between him and me, which for a time produced a certain amount of estrangement, but we afterwards became excellent friends and saw a good deal of each other. He was no longer a general manager, having given up that post for another which was pressed upon him—the post of Chairman of the Irish Board of Works. It was certainly unusual, unheard of one might say, in those days, for an important government office to be conferred upon a railway official, though now it would excite but little surprise. The Government it was thought contemplated something in the shape of a railway policy in Ireland, and had spotted Robertson as the man for the job; it was certainly said that someone in high authority, taken greatly by his sturdy independence, his unconventional ways, and his enormous energy, had determined to try the novel experiment which such an appointment meant. I do not think that Robertson himself ever really enjoyed the change. He liked variety it is true, but governmental ways were not, he often said, his ways, and he seemed to lack the capacity to easily adapt himself to new grooves. Unconventional he certainly was, and never in London even would he wear a tall hat or a tail coat; nor could he ever be persuaded to attend a levee or any State function whatever. He usually dressed in roughish tweeds, with trousers unfashionably wide, and a flaming necktie competing with his bright red cheeks, which contrasted strongly with his dark hair and beard. He was, however, a strong manly fellow, with a great deal of determination mingled with good humour. Usually in high spirits, he often displayed a boyish playfulness that resembled the gambols of a big good-natured dog. He was musical too, and would sing Annie Laurie for you at any time, accompanying himself on the piano. To practical joking he was rather addicted, and once I was his reluctant accomplice, but am glad to say it was the last time I ever engaged in such rude pleasantry. I can write of him now the more freely that he is no longer of this world. Excessive energy hastened his death. In 1901 he went to India to investigate for the Government the railways there, and to report upon them. It was a big task, occupied him a long time, and I am told he worked and lived there as though he were in his native temperate zone. His restless energy was due I should say to superabundant vitality. Once, when he and I were in London together, on some railway business, we took a stroll after dinner (it was summertime) and during a pause in our conversation he surprised me by exclaiming: “Tatlow, I’m a restless beggar. I’d like to have a jolly good row with somebody.” “Get married,” said I. This tickled him greatly and restored his good humour. He lived and died a bachelor nevertheless.
In 1896 the Railways (Ireland) Act was passed, and with it Robertson had much to do. Its purpose ran: “To facilitate the construction of Railways and the Establishment of other means of Communication in Ireland, and for other purposes incidental thereto.” It provided for further advances by the Treasury, under prescribed conditions, for constructing railways and for establishing lines of steamers, coaches, etc., which were shown to be necessary for the development of the resources of any district, where owing to the circumstances of such district, they could not be made without government assistance. It also authorised the construction and maintenance, as part of such railways, of any pier, quay or jetty. This little Act, which consisted of thirteen sections (I wonder he did not think the number unlucky), was Robertson’s particular pet. Concerning its clauses, from the time they were first drafted, many a talk we had together over a cup of tea with, to use his own expression, “a wee drappie in’t.” I may have hinted as much, but do not think I have mentioned before that he was a Scotchman and a Highlander.
In the same year was passed the Light Railways Act, an Act which applied to Great Britain only. Ireland had already had her share (some thought more than her share) of light railway legislation, with its accompanying doles in the shape of easy loans and free gifts, whilst England and Scotland had been left in the cold. It was their turn now; but as this Act, and the subject of light railways generally, formed the substance of a paper which I prepared and read in 1900 before the International Railway Congress at Paris, and of which I shall speak later on, I will pass it now without more comment.
At Robertson’s request I appeared as a witness this year for the Great Northern Railway, before Committees of both Houses of Parliament, in connection with a Bill which sought powers to construct an extension of the Donegal railway from Strabane to Londonderry. Robertson himself did not give evidence in the case. Before the Committees sat he had left the Great Northern for the Board of Works, and Henry Plews, his successor, represented the Great Northern Railway. The proposed line was in direct competition with the Great Northern, and they sought my aid in opposing it. Certainly there was no need for two railways, but Parliament thought otherwise and passed the Bill. Indeed Parliament is not free from blame for many unnecessary duplicated lines throughout the kingdom. Competition was for long its fetish; now it is unification, and (blessed word!) co-ordination. Strange how men are taken with fine words and phrases, and what slaves they are to shibboleths! Before the House of Commons Committee which sat on this Bill I had the pleasure, for the first time, of being examined by Balfour Browne. He was leader in the case for the Great Northern, and I met him also in consultations which took place. Since then I have crossed swords with him too, and always I must confess with keen enjoyment. His knowledge of railway matters was so remarkable, his mind so practiced, alert, and luminous, that it was rare excitement to undergo cross-examination at his hands. In his book, Forty Years at the Bar, he himself says: “I have not had many opportunities of giving evidence, but I confess that when I have been called as a witness I have enjoyed myself.” Well, I can say that I have had many such opportunities, and can truthfully declare that I have enjoyed them all.
A few weeks holiday in Holland, Cologne, the Rhine and Frankfort, with some days on the homeward journey in Brussels, all in company of my dear delightful friend, Walter Bailey, complete the annals of this year, except that I recall a little arbitration case in which I was engaged. It was during the summer, in July I think. The Grand Canal (not the canal which belongs to the Midland and is called the Royal) is a waterway which traverses 340 miles of country. Not that it is all canal proper, some of it being canalised river and loughs; but 154 miles are canal pure and simple, the undisputed property of the Grand Canal Company. On a part of the river Barrow which is canalised, an accident happened, and a trader’s barge was sunk and goods seriously damaged. Dispute arose as to liability, and I was called on to arbitrate. To view the scene of the disaster was a pleasant necessity, and the then manager of the company (Mr. Kirkland) suggested making a sort of picnic of the occasion; so one morning we left the train at Carlow, from whence a good stout horse towed, at a steady trot, a comfortable boat for twenty miles or so to the locus of the accident. We were a party of four, not to mention the hamper. It was delightfully wooded scenery through which we passed, and a snug little spot where we lunched. After lunch and the arbitration proceedings had been despatched, our Pegasus towed us back.
I must return again to Robertson, the Board of Works, and light railways. Preliminary to the authorisation of light railways in Ireland, the legislation which had been passed concerning them required that the Board of Works should appoint fit and proper persons to make public inquiry regarding the merits of proposed lines, as to engineering, finance, construction, the favour or objection with which they were regarded by landowners and others, the amount of capital required, the assistance that would be given by landowners, local authorities and others towards their construction, and their merit generally from all points of view; such fit persons after they had done all this, to report to the Board of Works. In 1897 Robertson thought that “Joseph Tatlow of Dublin, and William Roberts of Inverness, were fit and proper persons” for conducting the necessary inquiry concerning a proposed light railway in north-west Donegal, from Letterkenny to Burtonport, a distance of 50 miles. William Roberts was the Engineer of the Highland Railway of Scotland, a capable, energetic, practical man, and a canny Scot. This line was promoted by the Londonderry and Lough Swilly Railway Company. Roberts and I gladly undertook the work. We held public meetings, which were largely attended (for it was an event in Donegal) in Letterkenny, Falcarragh and Burtonport, examined nearly fifty witnesses, and heard a great variety of evidence.
But the hearing of evidence was by no means all we did. It was our duty to examine the route, and determine if it were the best practicable route (keeping steadily in view that the available funds were limited in amount), scrutinise and criticise the estimates, consider the stations to be provided, inquire as to the probable traffic and working expenses, and inform ourselves thoroughly on all the aspects and merits of the case. We drove some 240 miles, not of course by motor car (motors were not common then) but with stout Irish horses, and inspected the country well. After we presented our report, certain procedure followed; the Baronies guaranteed interest on £5,000 of the capital; the government gave the rest (some £313,000) as a free grant; an Order in Council was passed, and the line was made and opened for traffic in 1903. It has more than verified all predictions as to its usefulness, and has proved a blessing to north-west Donegal. My relations with the line by no means ended with the inquiry, and more about it will later on appear in this authentic history.
In the same year, 1897, with G. P. Culverwell, the engineer of my old railway, the Belfast and County Down, as co-adjutor, I was entrusted by Robertson with a similar inquiry concerning the Buncrana to Carndonagh line (18 miles in length) also in Donegal, and also promoted by the Londonderry and Lough Swilly Company. It was a smaller affair than the Burtonport line, but involved similar pleasant and interesting work. This line was also constructed and was opened in 1901.
Pleasant times, Joseph Tatlow, you seem to have had, and much variety and diversion; but what of your own railway and your duties to it? Well, these Parliamentary proceedings, arbitration cases, and light railway adventures were, after all, only interludes, and I can conscientiously say that the Midland line and its needs and interests were never neglected. I am one of those who always believed that everything which served to enlarge experience and mature judgment made a man more competent for his daily work.
In July a Departmental Committee was appointed by the Board of Agriculture “To inquire into and Report upon the Inland Transit of Cattle.” The Committee numbered ten, Sir Wm. Hart Dyke, M.P., being chairman. Three other M.P.s were members of the Committee, one being that redoubtable champion of the cattle trade and chairman of the Irish Cattle Trades Association, Mr. William Field. Two railway representatives were amongst the ten, one of them, Sir William Birt, general manager of the Great Eastern Railway; the other the Honourable Richard Nugent, a director of the Midland Great Western Railway, the latter having considerable experience of the cattle trade and of cattle transit in Ireland. He was no bad judge himself of a beast. He farmed in County Galway, and farming in the west of Ireland meant the raising of cattle, though nowadays some tillage is also done. He loved attending cattle fairs, and more than once turned me out of bed before the break of day to accompany him to a fair green, much to my discomfiture; but so great was his enjoyment, and so pleasant and lively his company that I believe I thanked him on each occasion for bringing me out.
Sir William Hart Dyke did not act as chairman of the Committee; in fact he was prevented by illness from attending any meeting after the first, and in his absence the chair was taken by Mr. Parker Smith, M.P.
The scope of the inquiry included Great Britain and Ireland; but, as the Committee stated in their report, “In Ireland the proportional importance of the cattle trade is much the greater,” and that no doubt was why they examined in Dublin 42 witnesses against about half that number in England.
Plews, Colhoun and I gave evidence for the Irish railways, supplemented with testimony on matters of detail by some of our subordinates. My railway (the Midland) being, relatively at any rate, the principal cattle-carrying line in Ireland, it was agreed that I should give the greater part of the evidence and appear first. The railway companies, of course, came on after the public witnesses had had their say.
The Committee in their report made some useful recommendations both for Great Britain and Ireland, not only in regard to the transit of cattle by railway, but also in reference to public supervision at fairs; accommodation and inspection at ports; the licensing of drovers; dishorning of young cattle, etc. With respect to railway transit the recommendations were directed principally to control and accommodation at stations; pens and loading banks; improvement in cattle trucks; and rest, food and water.
It is but fair to the railway companies to say that for some years previous to the inquiry they had been making constant and steady improvements in these matters, and I believe the Irish Department of Agriculture, which was established by Act of Parliament in 1899, and in which are vested the powers and functions of the Privy Council in regard to live stock, with some added powers as well, would, were they appealed to now, bear testimony to the good work of the Irish railways in regard to the “Inland Transit of Cattle.”
It would be tedious as well as tiresome to describe the many railway contests in the Committee Rooms at Westminster in which, during the remainder of my managerial career, it was my lot to be engaged; but one great case there was, in 1899 and 1900, which, by its importance to my company, and I may say, to the south and west of Ireland generally, should not pass unnoticed, and of it I propose to give a short account.
It was from the grasp of the Waterford and Limerick, as I have mentioned before, that in 1892 we (the Midland) sought, though unsuccessfully, to snatch possession of the Ennis line. Now the Waterford and Limerick were to lose, not only the Ennis line, but all their lines and their own identity as well. A great struggle ensued which, from the length of time it lasted, and the number of combatants engaged, was one of the biggest railway fights the Committee Rooms had for many a long year witnessed. For 106 days, from first to last, the battle raged. In it thirty-one companies and public bodies participated, most of them being represented by counsel. There was a famous Bar, including all the big-wigs of course, and some lesser wigs, and numbering more than twenty in all. The promoters were very strongly represented, but we had Littler for our leader, who, indeed, was our standing senior counsel. Their team consisted of Pope, Pember, Balfour Browne, Seymour Bushe, McInerny and two juniors; our, much smaller but well selected, of Littler, Blennerhassett and Vesy Knox; the last-named then a rising junior, but long since a senior, and for some time past a leader, is still to the front in the bustling, reckless, impatient world of to-day. Most of the others, alas, are no longer with us. Littler later on was knighted, but is beyond all earthly honours now, and so are Pope, Pember and Blennerhassett.
As I have said, the proceedings occupied two sessions. In the first, 1899, two Bills came before a Select Committee of the House of Commons, one promoted jointly by the Great Southern and Western and the Waterford and Limerick Companies, the other by the Great Southern and the Waterford and Central Ireland. But the Great Southern were the real promoters of both; they paid the piper and, therefore, called the tune. The Great Southern being the largest railway company in Ireland aspired to be greater still, nor need this be considered in the least surprising, for who in this world, great or small, is ever satisfied? The Waterford and Limerick, a line of 350 miles, then ranked fourth amongst the railways of Ireland, and its proposed absorption by the Great Southern and Western Company aroused no little interest. The Central Ireland, a small concern of 65 miles, running from Maryborough to Waterford, was a secondary affair altogether and I shall say little more about it. The Waterford and Limerick had its headquarters at Limerick, its southern terminus at Waterford, its northern at Sligo—a direct run from south to north of 223 miles, certain branch lines making up the rest of its mileage. Its access to Sligo was by means of the Athenry to Tuam, the Tuam to Claremorris and the Claremorris to Collooney lines, all of which it worked. The last-mentioned was one of the “Balfour” light railways (constructed on the ordinary Irish gauge of 5 feet 3 inches) and should have been given to the Midland Company, but by some unfortunate contretemps, when constructed, it passed into the hands of the Waterford and Limerick. From Collooney to Sligo (six miles) running powers were exercised by that company over the Midland line into Sligo. This Claremorris-Collooney line intersected the Midland system and in the hands of the Waterford and Limerick Company introduced a competition in Connaught which that poor district could ill afford to bear—a district in which one railway system alone, though it enjoyed the whole of the traffic, would scarcely earn a living. The Waterford and Limerick was not what would be called a prosperous line, nor was its physical condition anything to boast of, but it had latent possibilities, and was in active competition with the Great Southern. Such railway competition as existed in Ireland was dear to traders and the general public. In country towns in the sister Isle there is not (more the pity!) much afoot in the way of diversion, and to set the companies by the ears or get the better of either one or the other was looked upon as healthy and innocent amusement.
On the 7th of June the contest began, and this, the first engagement, lasted for 44 days, when the Chairman of the Committee announced that the Bills would not be passed. Great was our delight and that of our allies, though the cup of joy was a little dashed on learning that the Great Southern had determined to renew the struggle in the following year.
My company was the principal opponent, and bore the brunt of the fight, though the Dublin, Wicklow and Wexford Railway (now the Dublin and South-Eastern) were vigorous opponents too. A. G. Reid (from Scotland, who I have mentioned before) was general manager of the Dublin and Wicklow Railway. Like myself he is a pensioner now enjoying the evening of life. Living near each other in the pleasant Kingstown-Dalkey district, we meet not infrequently, and when we do our talk, as is natural, often glides into railway reminiscence. We fight our battles over again. We had many allies, prominent amongst them being the City and Harbour Authorities of Limerick. They were represented by good men who were hand and glove with us. Sir (then Mr.) Alexander Shaw, John F. Power and William Holliday were particularly conspicuous for their valuable assistance. Power (well named) was a host in himself. Strong, keen, clever, energetic, enthusiastic, yet cautious and wary, he was a splendid witness. I sometimes said he would have made a fine railway manager, had he been trained to the business. Could I give him higher praise?
Mr. Littler was in great feather at our success. He entertained us (i.e., his Midland clients) to lunch. Over coffee and cigars we learned that he had not been in Ireland for over 20 years; so to equip him the better for next year’s fight we invited him over, promising that I would be his faithful cicerone on a tour through the country. As soon as Parliament rose he came, and he and I spent a fortnight together, visiting Limerick, Waterford, Cork, Galway, Sligo and other places. It was a sort of triumphal march, for our friends, and they were many, warmly welcomed on Irish soil the great English Q.C. who had routed the enemy. Littler enjoyed it immensely, and was charmed with Irish warmth and Irish ways. Full of good humour and good nature himself, with a lively wit, and an easy unaffected manner, he gained new friends to our cause, and increased the zeal of old ones. He was a charming companion, a keen observer and interested in everything he saw and everybody he met.
Before the next session arrived my company determined upon a bold course, and decided to themselves lodge a Bill to acquire the Waterford and Limerick line. There was much to be said for this. With the Waterford and Limerick in our hands the competition, which the public loved, would continue, whilst in the hands of the Great Southern monopoly would prevail. That we would command much public support seemed certain. So in the following year three Bills were presented to Parliament, viz.:—
Midland Great Western
Great Southern and Western and Waterford and Limerick
Great Southern and Western and Waterford and Central Ireland
That Parliament regarded these proposals as being of more than ordinary importance is clear from the fact that it referred the three Bills to a Joint Select Committee of both Houses—Lords and Commons—describing them as “The Railways (Ireland) Amalgamation Bills.” An experienced and able chairman was appointed in the person of Lord Spencer.
On the 18th of May the proceedings opened. Day by day every inch of ground was stubbornly fought, and on the 12th of July the decision of the Committee was announced. After the presentation of the Great Southern case our Bill was heard and all the opposition. One of the most effective witnesses for the Great Southern was Sir George (then Mr.) Gibb, general manager of the North-Eastern, the only big railway in the country that enjoyed a district to itself. His role was to persuade the Committee that railway monopoly, contrary to accepted belief, was a boon and a blessing, and well he fulfilled his part.
My examination did not take place until July 6th, after nearly all other witnesses had been heard. Mr. Littler intentionally kept me back, which was a great advantage to me, as when placed in the box I had practically heard what everybody else had said, and the last word, as every woman knows, is not to be despised. Littler took me through my “proof.” I had spent the whole of the previous Sunday with him at his house at Palmer’s Green and we had gone through it together most carefully. He attached great importance to my direct evidence, and we underlined the parts I was to be particularly strong upon. That I had taken great pains to prepare complete and accurate evidence I need scarcely say, for, as I have stated before, if there is any kind of work I have liked more than another, and into which I have always put my heart and soul, it is this kind. After we had got through I was cross-examined by eight opposing counsel, including Pope, Pember, Balfour Browne and Seymour Bushe. One of the very few things connected with my appearance in the case I have preserved (and this I have kept from vanity, I suppose) is a newspaper cutting which says, “In cross-examination Mr. Pope could not get a single point out of Mr. Tatlow. On the contrary it actually made his case stronger. His evidence from beginning to end was most masterly. It was the evidence of a man who knew what he was talking about and who told the truth. Mr. Pope, in the end, agreed with Mr. Tatlow’s statement on running powers.” Mr. Pope was a big, generous-minded man. In the course of his great speech on the case he paid me the very nice compliment of saying that, “Mr. Tatlow went into the box and with a candour that did him great credit at once admitted that they (the clauses) were the most stringent that he knew of.” This from opposing counsel was a compliment indeed, and I was much complimented upon it. Mr. Pope greatly admired candour, and indeed I found myself that candour always told with the Committees. Littler loved Pope, and so did all the Parliamentary Bar, of which he was the acknowledged leader and the respected father. Littler said to me, “He is a wonderfully and variously gifted man, and had he chosen the stage as a profession would have been a David Garrick.” I said, “What about his very substantial person?” for he was colossal in figure. “I had forgotten that,” said Littler. Littler told me a good story of him which Pope, he said, was also fond of telling himself.
It was in the great man’s biggest and busiest days. Influenza was rife. Mr. Pope was a bachelor, and his valet inconsiderately took the “flu.” Mr. Pope’s nephew said the valet must go away till he fully recovered, or Mr. Pope would be sure to take it. “What shall I do?” said Mr. Pope, in dismay. “Oh, I’ll get you a good man for the time,” said the nephew; and so he did; a skilful, quiet, efficient, attentive man, whose usual duty it was to attend on a rich old gentleman, who resided, on account of a little mental derangement, in a certain pleasant private establishment. Mr. Pope had not been told, nor had he inquired, where the excellent valet, with whom he was well pleased, hailed from, nor had the valet asked any questions concerning Mr. Pope. Both seemed to have jumped to certain conclusions. After the valet had been there a week or more, one day, when downstairs, he said to the servants: “Tell me, what is it that is wrong with the master? He seems to me to be as sane as any of us!”
Balfour Browne, in his book Forty Years at the Bar, says, “He” (Mr. Pope) “had a broad equitable common sense, and never did anything mean or little.” He was certainly an orator, and displayed in his speeches much dramatic power. His voice was fine, flexible and sonorous. In his later years he must often have wished his “too too solid flesh would melt,” for it had become a heavy burden. He had to be wheeled from Committee Room to Committee Room in a perambulating chair, and was allowed to remain seated when addressing Committees. On the 12th of July Lord Spencer announced that “the Great Southern Amalgamation Bill may proceed subject to clauses as to running powers, etc.” This meant that our Bill was gone, and that the Great Southern had gained possession of the Waterford and Limerick, Ennis, the line to Collooney and running powers to Sligo. Thus they had secured a monopoly in Munster and an effective competition with us in poor Connaught. It was hard lines for the Midland, but all was not yet lost. If only we could obtain running powers to Limerick and carry them back to Ireland, we should have secured some of the spoil. Another week was spent fighting over running powers, facilities, etc., and I was in the witness box again. Balfour Browne and Littler now conducted the warfare on either side, and keenly they fought. The Committee at one time seemed disposed to put us off with little or nothing. In the box I know I waxed warm—“the Great Southern to get all and we nothing—iniquitous,” and then, “the public interest to count for nought—Oh, monstrous!” Well, in the end, on the 19th of July, we were awarded full running powers to Limerick, and—the curtain fell!
The Act came into operation on the 2nd of January, 1901, the 1st being a Sunday. On the 8th we ran our first running power train, and the Joy Bells rang in Limerick. The Great Southern threatened us with an injunction because we began to exercise our powers before the terms of payment, etc., were fixed between us; but we laughed at threats and went gaily on our way. Limerick rewarded us by giving us their traffic.
In this last amalgamation year (1900) we were in the Committee Rooms also in connection with another case—the Kingscourt, Keady and Armagh Railway Bill; but, I will say no more about it than that we opposed the Bill for the purpose of obtaining proper protection of Midland interests.
The year 1900 brought a general Act of some importance called the Railway Employment (Prevention of Accidents) Act. It empowered the Board of Trade to make rules with the object of reducing or removing the dangers and risks incidental to certain operations connected with railway working, such as braking of wagons, propping and tow roping, lighting of stations, protection of point rods and signal wires, protection to permanent way men, and other similar matters. It also empowered the Board to employ persons for carrying the Act into effect.
Nineteen hundred, take it all in all, was a busy, interesting and delightful year. Though we did not succeed in acquiring the Waterford and Limerick Railway, which I may now say we scarcely expected, for compulsory railway amalgamation was then unheard of, yet our bold course was regarded with considerable success (as boldness often is) and the running powers we had won were pecuniarily valuable as well as strategically important. Sir Theodore Martin, our Parliamentary Agent, and who had taken the keenest interest in the contest, wrote me: “After all I do not much regret the issue of the fight the Midland have had. To have got running powers to Limerick, and to have to give nothing for them is a substantial triumph.” So also thought my Chairman and Directors, for on the 25th of July they passed the following Board minute:—
“Resolved unanimously, that having regard to the great exertions of Mr. Tatlow in connection with the several Bills before Parliament, and the Directors being of opinion that the favourable terms obtained by this Company were due to the great care and attention given by him, they have unanimously decided to raise Mr. Tatlow’s salary £200 a year on and from the 1st inst.”
Not a very great amount in these extravagant days, perhaps, but in Ireland, nineteen years ago, it was thought quite a big thing; and it had the additional charm of being altogether unexpected by its grateful recipient.
Sir Theodore Martin, though 84 years of age, was full of intellectual and physical vigour. He was a sound adviser, and enthusiastic in the amalgamation business. Poet, biographer and translator, he kept up his intellectuality till the last, and the end of his interesting life did not come until he reached his 94th year. In 1905 he published a translation of Leopardi’s poems. Between us arose a much greater intimacy than the ordinary intimacy of business, and his friendship, through a long series of years, I enjoyed and highly valued.
Between the two periods of the Amalgamation control I sandwiched a delightful holiday, and in the autumn of 1899, after the conclusion of the great Ballinasloe Fair, travelled east as far as Constantinople. Were this a book of travel (which it is not) a chapter might be devoted to that trip. But the cobbler must stick to his last, though a word or two may, perhaps, be allowed on the subject, if only by way of variety.
My companions on this interesting tour were my good friends F. K. and H. H. We went by sea from Southampton to Genoa, where we stayed two days to enjoy the sunshine and colour; its steep, picturesque and narrow streets, and its beautiful old palaces. Then we visited Milan and Venice. At Venice we spent several days, charmed with its beauty. From Trieste we took an Austrian Lloyd steamer, the Espero, to Constantinople. At Patras we left the steamer to rejoin it at Piræus, wending our way by rail along the Gulf of Corinth to Athens, in which classical city we stayed the night. Messrs. Gaze and Sons had ordered their guide (or dragoman as he was called) to meet us and devote himself to our service. The next morning at 7 o’clock, he called for us at our hotel, and from that hour till noon, under his guidance, we visited the temples and monuments of ancient Athens, and inspected the modern city also. In the afternoon we drove or rather ploughed our way from Athens to Piræus (five miles) along the worst road I ever traversed, not excepting the streets of Constantinople. We found the harbour gay with music, flags and bunting, in honour of a great Russian Admiral who was leaving his ship to journey by ours to Constantinople. His officers bade him respectful farewells on the deck of our steamer, and he ceremoniously kissed them each and all.
On the twenty-second day after leaving home, at six o’clock in the morning, we were aroused in our berths and informed that we had arrived at Constantinople. The morning, unfortunately, was dull, and our first view of the Ottoman city, therefore, a little obscured. All the same, it was a great sight, with its minarets and towers, its Golden Horn and crowded quays. Our dragoman kept at bay all the clamouring crowd of porters, guides and nondescripts of all colours and races that besieged us. It was 8.30 a.m. when we landed, but 3.30 p.m. by Turkish time. The Moslem day is from sunset to sunset, and sunset is always reckoned 12 o’clock; an awkward arrangement which the reforming “Young Turk” perhaps has since altered. The week we spent in Constantinople was all too short. We stayed at the Pera Palace Hotel, and the first night after dinner, in our innocence, strolled out. All was dark and dismal; no one in the streets. We went as far as the quays, strolled back and on the way called at a small cafe, the only inmate of which was a dwarf, as remarkable looking as Velasquez’s Sebastian de Morra. The hall porter at our hotel was waiting our return with anxiety. “It was not safe to be out at night,” he said; “we had gold watches on us and money in our purses, and knives were sharp.” Murray’s guide book, we afterwards found, gave similar warning, without mentioning knives. Sir Nicholas O’Connor was our Ambassador in Constantinople. He was an Irishman from County Mayo, and I had a letter of introduction to him from my friend Sir George Morris. Sir Nicholas invited me to lunch at Therapia, where the Embassy was in residence in its summer quarters. He was exceedingly kind and facilitated our sightseeing in the great city during our stay. We witnessed the Selamlik ceremony of the Sultan’s weekly visit for prayers to the Mosque Hamedieh Jami, which stands adjacent to the grounds of Yildiz Kiosk. It was worth seeing. There was a great gathering of military in splendid uniforms and glittering decorations. Seven handsome carriages contained his principal wives, or ladies of the harem (wives we were told), and several of the Sultan’s sons (mere youths) were there, beautifully apparelled. We caught glimpses of the ladies through their carriage windows, and being women (though veiled) I should be surprised if they, on their part, did not get glimpses of us. There were eunuchs too, black frock-coated—and the chief eunuch, an important personage who ranks very high. Then came the Sultan (Abdul Hamid) himself in an open carriage, closely surrounded and guarded by officers. He was an elderly, careworn, bearded, sallow, melancholy looking man, whose features seemed incapable of a smile. He entered the Mosque alone; his wives remaining seated in their carriages outside. In the room in which we sat at an open window to view the ceremony we were regaled with the Sultan’s coffee and cigarettes.