CHAPTER XXVII.. King Edward, a Change of Chairmen, and More Railway Legislation

KING EDWARD, A CHANGE OF CHAIRMEN, AND MORE RAILWAY LEGISLATION

The memorable visit to Ireland of His Majesty King Edward, in the summer of 1903, which embraced all parts of the country, furnished I think no incident so unique as his reception in Connemara. On the morning of the 30th July the Royal Yacht anchored off Leenane, in Killery Bay, and His Majesty landed in Connaught. He was accompanied by Queen Alexandra and Princess Victoria. This was the first time, I believe, that the people west of the Shannon had seen their King, and whatever their politics, or aspirations were, he was certainly received with every manifestation of sincere good will. His genial personality and ingratiating bonhomie, his humanity, and his sportsmanlike characteristics, appealed at once to Irish instincts, and Connaught was as enthusiastic in its welcome as the rest of Ireland. The Royal party motored from Leenane to Recess, where they lunched at the Company's hotel, and where, of course, the Chairman, directors and chief officers of the railway, as well as local magnates, were assembled to assist in the welcome. On nearing Recess a surprise awaited the King. He was met by the "Connemara Cavalry," which escorted the Royal Party to the hotel and acted as bodyguard. Mr. John O'Loughlin, of Cashel, had organised this new and unexpected addition to His Majesty's Forces. It consisted of about 100 farmers, farmer's sons and labourers, of all ages from 18 to 80, mounted (mostly bareback) on hardy Connemara ponies. "Buffalo Bill" hats, decorated with the Royal colours or with green ribbon streamers, distinguished them from others. It was a striking scene, unexpected, novel, unique; but quite in harmony with the surroundings and the wild and romantic scenery of Connemara and the Killeries. The King plainly showed his hearty appreciation. After lunch their Majesties visited the marble quarries, situated some three miles distant, and reached by a rough and rocky precipitous mountain road, for which motor cars were entirely unsuited. For this journey the marble quarry people had ordered a carriage and horses from Dublin, but which, by some unfortunate occurrence, had not turned up. Though the only carriage available in the neighbourhood was ill-suited for royalty, the King and Queen, good naturedly, made little of that. They were too delighted with the unmistakable warmth of their welcome to mind such a trifle. Again the "Cavalry" were in attendance and escorted the party to the quarries and back.

The Royal visit to Ireland, on the whole, was an unqualified success, and there were many who hoped and believed that the King's good will towards the country and its people, and his remarkable gifts as a peacemaker, would in some way help to a solution of the Irish question; but, alas! that question is with us still, and when and how it will be solved no man can tell. For myself, I am one of those who indulge in hope, remembering that Time, in his healing course, has a way of adjusting human misunderstandings and of bringing about the seemingly impossible.

It was in this year (1903) that I first met Charles Dent, the present General Manager of the Great Northern Railway of England. He had been appointed General Manager of the Great Southern and Western Railway in succession to R. G. Colhoun. Dent and I often met. We found we could do good work for our respective companies by reducing wasteful competition and adopting methods of friendly working. In this we were very successful. A man of few words, disdaining all unnecessary formalities, but getting quickly at the heart and essence of things, it was always a pleasure to do business with him.

In this year also I enjoyed some variety by way of an inquiry which I made for the Board of Works, concerning certain proposed light railway extensions, called the Ulster and Connaught, and which involved the ticklish task of estimating probable traffic receipts and working expenses--a task for which the gift of prophecy almost is needed. To determine, in this uncertain world, the future of a railway in embryo might puzzle the wisest; but, with the confidence of the expert, I faced the problem and, I hope, arrived at conclusions which were at least within a mile of the mark.

In 1904 that fine old railway veteran, Sir Ralph Cusack, resigned his position of Chairman of the Midland and was succeeded by the Honourable Richard Nugent, youngest son of the ninth Earl of Westmeath; Major H. C. Cusack, Sir Ralph's nephew and son-in-law, becoming Deputy Chairman--the first (excepting for a few brief months in 1903 when Mr. Nugent occupied the position) the Midland ever had. With Sir Ralph's vacation of the chair, autocratic rule on the Midland, which year by year, had steadily been growing less, disappeared entirely and for ever. Well, Sir Ralph in his long period of office had served the Midland faithfully, with a single eye to its interests, and good wishes followed him in his retirement. Mr. Nugent was a small man, that is physically, but intellectually was well endowed. He had scholarly tastes and business ability in pretty equal parts. Movement and activity he loved, and, as he often told me, preferred a holiday in Manchester or Birmingham to the Riviera or Italian Lakes. He liked to be occupied, was fond of details, and possessed a lively curiosity. Sometimes he was thought, as a chairman, to err in the direction of too rigid economy, but on a railway such as the Midland, and in a country such as Ireland, economy was and is an excellent thing, and if he erred, it was on the right side. Truth, candour, courage and enthusiasm marked his character in a high degree. Fearless in speech, the art of dissimulation he never learned. I shall not readily forget a speech he once made at the Railway Companies' Association in London. It was on an occasion of great importance, when all the principal companies of the United Kingdom were present. It was altogether unpremeditated, provoked by other speeches with which he disagreed, and its directness and courage--for it was a bold and frank expression of honest conviction, such as tells in any assembly--created some stir and considerable comment. Of plain homely mother-wit he had an uncommon share, and his mind was stored with quotations which came out in his talk with wonderful ease and aptness. A shrewd observer, his comments (always good-natured if critical) on his fellow men were worth listening to.

Our almost daily intercourse was intimate and frank. Sometimes we wandered into the pleasant fields of poetry and literature, but never to the neglect of business. He had an advantage that I greatly envied; a splendid memory; could repeat verse after verse, stanza upon stanza, whole cantos almost, from his favourite poet, Byron. It was at the half- yearly meetings of shareholders (they were held half-yearly in his day) that he specially shone, not in his address to them (for that he would persist in reading) but in the after proceedings when the heckling began. This, during his chairmanship, was often severe enough, for owing to unavoidably increased expenditure, dividends were diminishing and shareholders, in consequence, were in anything but complacent mood. Question time always put him on his mettle. Then his mother-wit came out, his lively humour and practical common sense--all unstudied and natural. The effect was striking. Rarely did he fail in disarming criticism, producing harmony, and sending away dissentients in good temper, though some of them, I know, sometimes afterwards wondered how it came about that they had been so easily placated.

From 1903 to 1906 several Acts of Parliament affecting railways generally came into force, four of which were of sufficient importance to merit attention. The first, the Railways (Electric Power) Act, 1903, was a measure to facilitate the introduction and use of electrical power on railways, and invested the Board of Trade with authority to make Orders for that purpose, which were to have the same effect as if enacted by Parliament.

The second, the Railway Fires Act, 1905, was an Act to give compensation for damage by fires caused by sparks or cinders from railway engines, and increased the liability of railway companies. It inter alia, enacted that the fact that the offending engine was used under statutory powers should not affect liability in any action for damage.

Next came the Trades Disputes Act, 1906, a short measure of five clauses, but none the less of great importance; a democratic law with a vengeance! It is one of the four Acts which A. A. Baumann, in his recent book, describes as being "in themselves a revolution," and of this particular Act he says it "placed the Trade Unions beyond the reach of the laws of contract and of tort." It also legalised peaceful picketing, that particular form of persuasion with which a democratic age has become only too familiar.

Lastly, the Workmen's Compensation Act, of 1906, an Act to consolidate and amend the law with respect to compensation to workmen for injuries suffered in the course of their employment, is on the whole a beneficial and useful measure, to which we have grown accustomed.

In these years I had other holiday trips abroad; some with my family to France and Switzerland, and two with my friend, John Kilkelly. One of these two was to Denmark and Germany; the other to Monte Carlo and the Riviera. In Germany, at Altona, we saw the Kaiser "in shining armour," fresh from the autumnal review of his troops, though indeed I should scarcely say fresh, for he looked tired and pale, altogether different to the stern bronzed warrior depicted in his authorised photographic presentments which confronted us at every turn. Kilkelly was a busy, but never seemed an overworked man, due I suppose to some constitutional quality he enjoyed. Added to a good professional business of his own, he was Solicitor to the Midland, Crown Solicitor for County Armagh, Solicitor to the Galway County Council, and, in his leisure hours, farmed successfully some seven or eight hundred acres. He had a fine portly presence, and though modesty itself, could not help looking as if he were somebody, like the stranger in London, accosted by Theodore Hook in the Strand, who was of such imposing appearance that the wit stopped him and said: "I beg your pardon, sir, but, may I ask, are you anybody in particular?"

At Monte Carlo we both lost money but revelled in abundant sunshine, and contemplated phases of humanity that to us were new and strange. Soon we grew tired of the gaming table and its glittering surroundings, bade it adieu, and explored other parts of the Riviera, moving at our ease from scene to scene and from place to place.

Kilkelly was an excellent travelling companion, readily pleased, and taking things as they came with easy philosophy. But never more shall we travel together, at home or abroad. A year ago, at the age of 82, he passed from among us on the last long journey which we all must take.

Requiescat in pace!