Fifty Years of Railway Life in England, Scotland and Ireland Part 8

And so the time pa.s.sed until August, 1888, when the railway world was deeply moved by the introduction of the _Railway and Ca.n.a.l Traffic Act_.

This Act was the outcome of the Report of the Select Committee of 1881, before which Mr. James Grierson gave such weighty evidence. One of the most important measures Parliament ever pa.s.sed, it imposed on railway companies an amount of labour and anxiety, prolonged and severe, such as I hope they may not have to face again.

The Act, as I have stated before, altered the const.i.tution of the Railway Commission, and also effected minor alterations in the law relating to railways and ca.n.a.ls, but its main purpose was the revision of Maximum Rates and Charges. It ordered each company to prepare a revised cla.s.sification of goods and a revised Schedule of Maximum Rates, and submit them to the Board of Trade, who, after considering objections lodged against them, were to agree (if they could) with the companies upon a cla.s.sification and schedule for adoption; and if they failed, to determine a cla.s.sification and schedule themselves. Public sittings at Westminster, Edinburgh and Dublin, occupying 85 days, took place, but no agreement was reached; and in their Report to Parliament the Board of Trade embodied a Revised Cla.s.sification and a standard Schedule of Maximum Rates for general adoption. The Schedule included Terminals. In accordance with the Act, it then became necessary for this Revised Cla.s.sification and Schedule to be confirmed by Parliament. Against them pet.i.tions were lodged by both railways and traders, and the whole matter was referred to a Joint Committee of both Houses. This Committee sat in 1891 from April till July; but it was not until January, 1893, that all was completed and the Revised Cla.s.sification and the new rates brought into force. Little time was afforded to the companies for their part of the work. The whole system of rates was changed. New rates had to be calculated on the new scale; thousands of rate books had to be compiled, and millions of rates altered and revised. It was a colossal task; impossible of fulfilment in the time allowed. The application of the new Schedule forcibly reduced many rates, inflicting much loss upon the companies, and because the companies advanced other rates (within the limits of the new maximum powers of course) to meet this loss, or to meet it to some extent, a storm of abuse arose and swept across the land. A trader from Berwick-on-Tweed, more frank than most, wrote the following "characteristic" letter as it was called at the time:--

"What we want is to have our fish carried at _half_ present rates. We don't care a --- whether it pays the railways or not. Railways ought to be made to carry for the good of the country, or they should be taken over by the Government. That is what all Traders want and mean to try to get."

Perhaps they would not be happy if they got it! In his clear, and most interesting book _Railways and Their Rates_, my friend Edwin A. Pratt says this letter was quoted in the Report which the Board of Trade made to Parliament after their 85 days' Inquiry. The railway companies announced that the new rates were in no sense final, that the time allowed them was insufficient for proper revision, that they would give an a.s.surance that no increase would be made that would interfere with trade or agriculture or diminish traffic and that, unless under exceptional circ.u.mstances, no increase would in any case exceed 5 per cent. But all was in vain, and Parliament pa.s.sed an Act which provided that any increase whatever (though within the limits of the new statutory maximum) if complained of, should be heard and decided upon by the Railway Commissioners, and that the onus of proving the reasonableness of the increase should rest on the railway company. Sir Alexander (then Mr.) b.u.t.terworth, in his book on _The Law Relating to Maximum Rates and Charges on Railways_, published in 1897, says this remarkable result is presented: that Parliament, "after probably the most protracted inquiry ever held in connection with proposed legislation, decided that certain amounts were to be the charges which railway companies should for the future be ent.i.tled to make, and in 1894 apparently accepted the suggestion that many of the charges, sanctioned after so much deliberation, were unreasonable, and enacted that to ent.i.tle a company to demand them, it should not be sufficient that the charge was within any limit fixed by an Act of Parliament." Thus Parliament, yielding to popular clamour, stultified itself, and in feverish haste to placate an angry and noisy public tied the hands of the railway companies, doing, I believe, more harm than good. This legislation naturally made the companies very cautious in reducing a rate because of the difficulties to be encountered should circ.u.mstances require them to raise it again, and railway rates thus lost that element of elasticity and adaptability so essential to the development of trade. Many a keen and enterprising business man have I heard lament the restrictions that Parliament imposed and declare that such interference with the freedom of trade was short- sighted in the extreme and bad for the country.

Immediately after the pa.s.sing of the Act of 1888 the railway companies vigorously attacked the work imposed upon them. A special meeting on the subject was held at the Irish Railway Clearing House in Dublin for the purpose of preparing a revised Cla.s.sification and Schedule of Rates. This was a rare opportunity for me and I eagerly availed myself of it. Before I left Glasgow it will be remembered I had been entrusted with an examination of the statutory charging powers of the Glasgow and South- Western company, and with the drawing up of a suggested scale of maximum rates. No similar work had yet been done in Ireland, and it was altogether new to the Irish companies. I produced copies of the statements which I had prepared in Glasgow, and they served as a basis for what had to be done, saved much time and trouble and gained for me no little _kudos_. But more than this resulted. As I have hinted before, and as will hereafter appear, this bit of Glasgow work led to my promotion to a greater charge than the busy little County Down, which though I loved it well, I had begun to feel I was now outgrowing. Many other meetings at the Clearing House followed in which I took part with increasing confidence, and in which Walter Bailey also prominently figured. He and I were hand and glove. Cotton, who soon discovered that Bailey was an authority on the subject, as indeed he was on most railway matters, was not slow to profit by his knowledge and ability. He brought him to all our meetings, and valuable was the help that Bailey gave.

In 1889 there came into operation the _Regulation of Railways Act_. It invested the Board of Trade with power to order any company to adopt block working, to interlock all points and signals, and to use on all trains carrying pa.s.sengers automatic continuous brakes. Before issuing the order the Board consented to hear any representations which the railways desired to make. The smaller companies, upon which the expenditure involved would press very hardly, and the circ.u.mstances of whose traffic seemed scarcely to require the same elaborate precautions for safety in working as the bigger and more crowded systems, banded together and waited on the Board of Trade. Upon me devolved the duty of presenting the case for the smaller Irish companies, and upon Conacher, of the Cambrian, for the smaller English lines. How finely Conacher spoke I well remember. He had an excellent voice, possessed in a high degree the gift of concise and forcible expression, and his every word told. But our eloquence accomplished little--some small modification regarding mixed trains, and that was all. Many of the lines in Ireland serving districts where population is scanty, traffic meagre, and trains consequently infrequent, could well have been spared the costly outlay which the Act involved. Three or four trains each way per day represent the train service on many of these small railways, and some of the sections of the larger lines warrant little more. Take, for instance, the case of the Midland Great-Western. On 330 out of its 538 miles not more than six trains each way in the 24 hours are required, and they could probably be reduced without hurting anyone. These figures relate not to the exceptional war time in which I pen these lines, when stern necessity has sweepingly reduced the train service, but to pre-war days when normal conditions prevailed. Half a dozen trains each way per day!

In England there are as many, or more, in the hour!

The Act of 1889 also dealt with the working hours of railway men whose duty involved the safety of trains or pa.s.sengers, and required each company to make periodical returns of those employed for longer hours than were to be named from time to time by the Board of Trade; and it contained further a useful clause to the effect that the fares were in future to be printed on pa.s.senger tickets. I should not be surprised if this simple little clause has not brought more real satisfaction to the minds and hearts of the people of the British Isles than all the laboured legislation on railway rates and charges.

In the year 1889 a great fillip was given to the extension of railways in Ireland by the pa.s.sing of the _Light Railways (Ireland) Act_. It was familiarly known as "Balfour's Act." Mr. Balfour was then Chief Secretary of Ireland, and it was due to him that it was pa.s.sed. The Act was designed "to facilitate the construction of Light Railways in Ireland," and embodied various recommendations of the Allport Commission.

It was the first introduction of the principle of State aid by free money grants. Such aid was conditional upon the light railway being constructed or worked by an existing railway company, except in cases where the Baronies guaranteed dividends upon a portion of the capital.

The amount which the Treasury was authorised to grant was 600,000 pounds.

In 1896 this was increased by a further sum of 500,000 pounds, and both were, in addition to a capital sum, represented by 40,000 pounds per annum which had been granted under previous legislation. Under this Act and Acts of 1890 and 1896, over 300 miles, comprising 15 separate lines, were constructed at a total cost, exclusive of what the railway companies contributed, of 1,849,967 pounds, of which the Government contribution was 1,553,967 pounds. Although the lines were promoted under Light Railway Acts, and the Government grants were based upon light railway estimates, Parliamentary power was obtained to construct, maintain, and work them as other than light railways. This was taken advantage of by some of the working companies who, in eight instances contributed themselves a considerable amount of capital, in order that the lines should be made sound and substantial, of the usual gauge, and such as could be worked by the ordinary rolling stock of the company. The Midland Great-Western, for instance, so expended no less than 352,000 pounds of their capital on "Balfour Lines" in the west. It was a spirited thing to do.

Of the 309 miles of "light" railways, made under the 1889 and subsequent Acts, 194 were constructed on the ordinary gauge of the country, 5 feet 3 inches, and the remainder on a 3-foot gauge.

Several Light Railway or Tramway Acts were pa.s.sed in Ireland between 1860 and 1883, under which 295 miles of light railways at a cost of 1,389,784 pounds were constructed. With the exception of the small sum of 144,804 pounds, the interest on the whole of this capital was guaranteed by the Baronies, the Treasury repaying the Baronies one-half but not to exceed two per cent.

The lines constructed under "Balfour's Act" are situated mostly in Connemara, Kerry, Mayo and Donegal, serving districts remote and thinly populated, where as commercial ventures they could not have been projected. That they have proved to be of great benefit to the country is beyond question. They have developed fis.h.i.+ng and agriculture, and have brought the tourist into districts little visited before. Live stock and farm produce are able to reach their market, and places before isolated are in touch with the outer world.

One of the first of the railways made under the 1889 Act was a short line of 8 miles from the County Down line at Downpatrick to the little fis.h.i.+ng village of Ardgla.s.s. It stood first on the list of lines recommended for construction in the Report of the Allport Commission. Primarily it was intended for the development of the herring traffic which for years had abounded on the coast, but no sooner was the line opened, than that perverse migratory fish sought other seas, and did not return to Ardgla.s.s for I don't know how long.

The promotion of the Ardgla.s.s railway, and the steps necessary for obtaining an Order in Council for its construction and working, familiarised me with the Light Railway Legislation of Ireland, with which in subsequent years I was often concerned.

In the autumn of 1889, in company with Mr. Jackson (afterwards Lord Allerton), then Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. Andrews and other directors of the County Down, I visited Ardgla.s.s. Under the new Act the Treasury, in connection with the projected railway construction, held the purse strings, and the Treasury, so far as we were concerned, was Mr.

Jackson. We of the County Down were keen on getting the line sanctioned, and were very anxious concerning Mr. Jackson's visit. He was a man who drove a hard bargain, so it was said. Certainly he was an able man, and I greatly admired him that day. Later in life, when he was Lord Allerton, and Chairman of the Great Northern Railway of England, I met him again and liked him well.

In 1889 there were no _light railways_ in Great Britain, or practically none. Except in Ireland they are of modern growth. What really const.i.tutes a light railway it is not easy to say. Commonly it is thought to be a matter of gauge, but that is not so. Mr. Acworth says: "such a definition is in the nature of things impossible," but that, "a light railway must be something simpler and cheaper than an ordinary railway." Mr. Cole says that "the natural demand for a definition must he frankly met with the disappointing reply that a hard and fast definition, at once concise, exact, and comprehensive is not forthcoming, and that a partial definition would be completely misleading." As such authorities are unable to furnish a definition I shall not attempt it, and will content myself with suggesting that the most recognisable feature of a _light_ railway is its _light_ traffic.

CHAPTER XIX.

GOLF, THE DIAMOND KING, AND A STEAM-BOAT SERVICE

Thought not a golfer myself, never having taken to the game in earnest, or played on more than, perhaps, twenty occasions in my life, I may yet, I think, in a humble way, venture to claim inclusion amongst the pioneers of golf in Ireland, where until the year 1881 it was unknown. In the autumn of that year the Right Honourable Thomas Sinclair, Dr. Collier, of "British History" fame, and Mr. G. L. Baillie, a born golfer from Scotland, all three keen on the game, set themselves in Belfast to the task of establis.h.i.+ng a golf club there. They succeeded well, and soon the Belfast Golf Club, to which is now added the prefix _Royal_, was opened. The ground selected for the links was the _Kinnegar_ at Holywood, and on it the first match was played on St. Stephen's Day in 1881. That was the beginning of golf in Ireland. Mr. Baillie was the Secretary of the Club till the end of 1887, when a strong desire to extend the boundaries of the Royal game in the land of his adoption led him to resign the position and cast around for pastures new. Portrush attracted him, engaged his energies, and on the 12th May, 1888, a course, which has since grown famous, was opened there. About this time I made his acquaintance and suggested Newcastle, the beautiful terminus of the County Down railway, as another likely place. On a well remembered day in December, 1888, he accompanied me there, and together we explored the ground, and finished up with one of those excellent dinners for which the lessee of our refreshment rooms and his capable wife (Mr. and Mrs.

Lawrence) were famous, as many a golfer I am sure, recollects. Mr.

Baillie's practised eye saw at once the splendid possibilities of Newcastle. Like myself, he was of an enthusiastic temperament, and we both rejoiced. I remembered the shekels that flowed to the coffers of the Glasgow and South-Western from the Prestwick and Troon Golf Courses on their line, and visions of enrichment for my little railway rose before me. Very soon I induced my directors to adopt the view that the railway company must encourage and help the project. This done the course was clear. They were not so sanguine as I, but they had not lived in Scotland nor seen how the Royal game flourished there and how it had brought prosperity to many a backward place. Mr. Baillie's energy, with the company's co-operation to back it, were bound to succeed, and on the 23rd March, 1889, with all the pomp and ceremony suitable to the occasion (including special trains, and a fine luncheon given by the Directors of the Company) the Golf links at Newcastle, Co. Down, were formally opened by the late Lord Annesley. From that time onward golf in Ireland advanced by leaps and bounds. Including Newcastle, there were then in the whole country, only six clubs and now they number one hundred and sixty-eight! The County Down Railway Company's splendid hotel on the links at Newcastle, with its 140 rooms, and built at a cost of 100,000 pounds, I look upon as the crowning glory of our golfing exploration on that winter day in 1888. To construct such a hotel, at such a cost, was a plucky venture for a railway possessing only 80 miles of line, but the County Down was always a plucky company, and the Right Honourable Thomas Andrews, its Chairman, to whom its inception and completion is chiefly due, was a bold, adventurous and successful man.

Another experience somewhat removed from ordinary railway affairs that helped to enliven the latter part of my time on the County Down, and added variety to the work imposed by the Railway and Ca.n.a.l Traffic Act and the revision of Rates and Charges, was a project in which I became engaged connected with the Isle of Man.

Joseph Mylchreest was a Manxman, a rough diamond but a man of sterling worth. He left home when young and worked first as a s.h.i.+p's carpenter.

An adventurous spirit led him to seek his fortune in various parts of the world--in the goldfields of California and Australia and in the silver mines of Peru and Chili. Later on he went to South Africa, where in the diamond mines he met with great success and made a large fortune. His property there he disposed of to Cecil Rhodes, and it now, I am told, forms part of the De Beers Consolidated Company's a.s.sets. In the late eighties he returned to his native island, settled at Peel, and became a magnate there.

One afternoon early in the year 1889 two gentlemen from the Isle of Man called upon me at my office. They were Mr. Mylchreest (the "_Diamond King_") and a lawyer friend whose name I forget, but I remember they informed me they were both members of the House of Keys. Mr. Mylchreest was anxious to do something to develop the little port of Peel, his native town, and a steamboat service between Peel and Belfast, Bangor or Donaghadee, seemed to him and his friends a promising project. What did the County Down think? Would either Bangor or Donaghadee be better than Belfast? If so, would my company join in and to what extent? We had no power to expend money in steamboat enterprise, but I a.s.sured them we would do all we could to help in other ways, and that Bangor was the port to select. My directors heartily approved and other interviews followed.

Once, I had hurriedly to go over to Peel to meet Mr. Mylchreest and his lawyer, on a certain day, as some hitch had arisen, and by this time I was desperately keen on getting the steamboat service started. The only way of reaching Peel in time was by a collier steamer, belonging to the East Downs.h.i.+re Coal Co., which plied between Dundrum on the Co. Down coast, and Whitehaven; the manager of the company was my friend, and would allow the steamer to drop me at Peel. It was a memorable crossing, the weather was _bad_ and so was I. But my journey was successful, and soon the Peel and North of Ireland Steams.h.i.+p Company, Limited, in which the "_Diamond King_" was much the largest shareholder, was established, and on the 26th June, 1889, the first voyage was made from Peel to Bangor. It was a great event for the quiet little town of Peel. Mr.

Mylchreest had invited all his friends to the inaugural service, in addition a good number of the public travelled, and the steamer arrived at Bangor with nearly 300 pa.s.sengers on board. On the return voyage from Bangor to Peel the same evening the "_Diamond King_" gave a great dinner, champagne and speeches freely flowed, and music and dancing enlivened the proceedings. The service prospered for a time, but the traffic did not reach expectations. Ultimately it was taken over by the Isle of Man Steampacket Coy., and after a few years discontinued.

Little more remains to be told of my five and a-half years' sojourn in the north of Ireland. They were pleasant and profitable years for mind and body. With health improved, experience gained in _practical_ railway work, knowledge acquired by personal contact with men of all sorts and conditions, I felt strong and confident, ready for anything, and, like Micawber, longed for something to turn up.

Early in October, 1890, Walter Bailey and I took our second Continental holiday together. We re-visited Paris, but spent most of our three weeks in a tour through Belgium, finis.h.i.+ng up at Brussels. When we reached London I received a letter from my friend, W. R. Gill, Secretary of Bailey's railway, the Belfast and Northern Counties. It was to tell me that the position of Manager of the Midland Great Western Railway of Ireland had become vacant, and suggested that I should return home by way of Dublin and call upon the chairman of the company, Sir Ralph Cusack, in regard to the succession. Now something _had_ turned up, and Bailey declared I was as good as appointed. At dinner that night we indulged in a bottle of sparkling wine--in nothing meaner would my warm-hearted friend drink success to the prospect that had so unexpectedly opened before me.

The Midland Great Western was the third largest railway in Ireland, nor, in the matter of length of line, was there very much between the three.

The Great Southern and Western consisted of 522 miles, the Great Northern 487, and the Midland Great Western 432, nearly seven times as long as the County Down. No wonder I felt elated.

How it all came about was in this way. Skipworth, the London and North- Western Manager in Ireland, was on very friendly terms with Sir Ralph Cusack, and Sir Ralph had a high opinion of his judgment. He consulted Skipworth about a manager and asked if he knew any railway man in Ireland, not too old, who would do. Said Skipworth, "Tatlow of the County Down. He has shown up remarkably well at the Clearing House over this terrible Railway and Ca.n.a.l Traffic Act, and seems to know all about it." And so I was appointed, and thus it was that the bit of work in Glasgow, of which I have spoken more than once, brought me this substantial promotion. My friend Gill not long before had left the service of the Midland Great Western, where he was a.s.sistant Secretary, to become Secretary of the Belfast and Northern Counties Railway, and when Sir Ralph wrote to him about me he valiantly backed up Skipworth's fine recommendation. Skipworth was himself for several years manager of the Midland Great Western. He gave up the post when he joined the London and North-Western as their Irish Manager. It is good for a man to have friends, and I have been fortunate throughout my life in possessing many.

In December, 1890, I left the County Down to enter upon my duties as manager of the Midland Great Western. The County Down Directors, at their Board meeting on the 16th of that month, pa.s.sed a minute recording their "high appreciation of the ability with which he" (my humble self) "has discharged his duties as general manager," adding that "his uniform courtesy, tact and judgment, added to his strict sense of honour, secured him the confidence of the Board." Need I say that I was proud of this testimonial, and as pleased as proud, because it went on to wish me success in my new duties, where I would "have a wider field for the exercise of my talents," and begged my "acceptance of a cheque as a mark of regard." This was better than the _walking stick_ with which a certain railway officer, who was not too popular with his staff, was, it is said, presented by them, when he left for a bigger post on another line.

CHAPTER XX.

THE MIDLAND GREAT WESTERN RAILWAY OF IRELAND

I had now completed one half of my active railway life; reached the age of 39; and, no longer a rolling stone, was settled in the service of a company with which I was destined to remain for the rest of my railway career. That my aspirations were satisfied I do not pretend, for ambition forbade any settled feeling of rest or content. Happily, my nature inclined to the sunny side and disappointments never spoiled my enjoyment of life or marred the pleasure I found in my daily work. My friend, Edward John Cotton, who, like myself, was an imported Englishman, had, like me, indulged in dreams of going back to England to fill some great railway post, but he had reached his sixties and his dreams were over. Often, when we talked familiarly together, he would say: "Joseph, if you aspire to be a general manager in England you ought never to have come to Ireland. They don't think much on the other side of Irish railways or Irish railway men." This, I daresay, was true, though he, well known, liked and admired as he was, ought to have been considered an exception, and why no British railway company, when posts were going, ever snapped him up is hard to say. Later on, even I, once or twice narrowly escaped obtaining a good thing on the English side of the Channel, but it never _quite_ came off, and so I was left to make myself as happy as I could in Ireland.

Perhaps it was as well. Railway life in Ireland, though not highly remunerated, had its compensations as most situations in life have. There the pressure of work was less constant and severe than in England. A railway manager was not confined to crowded cities, and enjoyed more breathing s.p.a.ce. When he travelled on his line he came in contact with bucolic interests instead of the whirring wheels of trade. Time moved more slowly, greater leisure prevailed, the climate was softer, the country greener, manners easier, and more wit and humour abounded. Yes, on the whole, I was more fortunate than had my ambitious hopes been realised to the full. At least I think so now; and, as Hamlet says, "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."

One immediate advantage I gained by entering the Midland Great Western service. Until then I had no chance of joining a superannuation fund.

The Glasgow and South-Western had none, neither had the County Down; but the Midland Great Western was a party to the Clearing House Superannuation Corporation, and of it I became a member.

The Midland Great Western, as I have said, is the third largest railway in Ireland. It stretches from the Liffey to the Atlantic, serves the plains of Meath, the wilds of Connaught, and traverses large expanses of bog. Galway, Sligo, Westport, Athlone and Mullingar are the princ.i.p.al towns on its system.

When I became its manager, Sir Ralph Cusack had been chairman of the railway for nearly a quarter of a century and was in his sixty-ninth year. He attended daily in his office, devoting much time to the company's affairs. Although my position was not all I could have wished in the matter of that wide authority I coveted, and which, in my humble opinion, every railway manager should possess, it was in many respects very satisfactory, and every lot in life has its crumpled rose leaf. Sir Ralph regarded me as an _expert_, which, notwithstanding all his long experience as chairman, he did not himself pretend to be, and _railway experts_ he held in high esteem. He supported me consistently, permitting no one but himself to interfere with anything I thought it right to do. I did not, to be sure, always get my own way, but I accomplished much, and, what I cared for most, was able to do good work for the company. Enthusiasm for one's work is a splendid thing, and so is loyalty to one's employers. I make no boast of possessing these, for they were common property; they permeated the railway service and inspired the youngest clerk as well as his chief. Sometimes in these latter days I imagine such things are changed, though I would like to think it is only an old man's fancy, as it was in the case of the dear old Dubliner, who in his time had been a beaux and had reached his eightieth year. One sunny forenoon when airing himself in a fas.h.i.+onable street of the city, he was met by another old crony, who accosted him with:--

"Well, old friend, how are you this morning?"

"Oh, very well, thanks, quite well, only--" he responded.

"Only what?" asked his friend.

"Only the pavements are harder and the girls are not so pretty as they used to be," he replied with a whimsical look of regret in his face and a twinkle in his still bright eye.

Sir Ralph was a man of striking appearance, tall and imposing in figure.

His head was ma.s.sive and fine. His full beard was snowy white, as white as his abundant hair which was of a beautifully soft silky texture, with a sheen like satin. His voice was low and at times not very distinct.

This was disappointing as his conversation was always interesting, not only for its intrinsic value, but also by reason of his charmingly varied and copious vocabulary, and his perfectly balanced phrases. Naturally and without the least effort the aptest words sprang to his lips in perfect order and sequence. His letters, too, were always exceedingly well expressed. He wrote a neat, sloping, rather flowing and somewhat old-fas.h.i.+oned hand, which greatly resembled the writing of Beau Brummell, and, like the ill.u.s.trious Beau's, his numerals, which is rare nowadays, were very clearly and very beautifully formed. The Prince of Beaux was fastidious in his penmans.h.i.+p as in everything else. Sir Ralph's half- yearly speeches to the shareholders, though delivered extempore, were models of perspicuity. He used the scantiest notes, mere headings of subjects, and a few sc.r.a.ps of paper containing figures which he usually remembered without their aid. Of his memory he was proud. One day, at a meeting of the Board, after recalling particulars of some old transaction which no one else could in the least recollect, he turned to me and said: "Well, Tatlow, you see I sometimes remember something." I rejoined: "Well, Sir Ralph, my only complaint is that you never forget anything."

The little compliment pleased him. Never in his whole life, he said, had he written out a speech, and hoped he never would, but he lived to do so once. As he advanced in years his voice grew weaker, and on the last occasion on which he presided at a meeting of shareholders, he wrote his speech, or partly wrote it and, at his request, I read it to the meeting.

Reported verbatim his addresses read as though they had been composed and written with the utmost care, so precise and correct was the language and so consecutive the matter. Though few could hope to do so well as he, I have always thought that in addressing shareholders, railway chairmen might trust less to formally prepared speeches and more to their powers of extemporaneous exposition. Some chairmen do this I know, but others still read from ma.n.u.script. However able the matter, the reading, in my judgment, is much less effective than the spontaneous expression of the speaker. The atmosphere created by the meeting, often a valuable adjunct, cannot be taken advantage of when the speech is read, nor can the chance of improvising a telling point, of enforcing an argument, or of seizing a pa.s.sing mood of the audience or some fleeting incident of the moment.