MR. FRANK BUCKLAND’S FIRST RAILWAY JOURNEY.
Mr. Spencer Walpole remarks:—“Of Mr. Buckland’s Christ Church days many good stories are told. Almost every one has heard of the bear which he kept at his rooms, of its misdemeanours, and its rustication. Less familiar, perhaps, is the story of his first journey by the Great Western. The dons, alarmed at the possible consequences of a railway to London, would not allow Brunel to bring the line nearer than to Didcot. Dean Buckland in vain
protested against the folly of this decision, and the line was kept out of harm’s way at Didcot. But, the very day on which it was opened, Mr. Frank Buckland, with one or two other undergraduates, drove over to Didcot, travelled up to London, and returned in time to fulfil all the regulations of the university. The Dean, who was probably not altogether displeased at the joke, told the story to his friends who had prided themselves in keeping the line from Oxford. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘you have deprived us of the advantage of a railway, and my son has been up to London.’”
SCENE BEFORE A SUB-COMMITTEE ON STANDING ORDERS.
petitioning against a railway bill, 1846.
“Well, Snooks,” began the Agent for the Promoters, in cross-examination, “you signed the petition against the Bill—aye?”
“Yees, zur. I zined summit, zur.”
“But that petition—did you sign that petition?”
“I do’ant nar, zur; I zined zummit, zur.”
“But don’t you know the contents of the petition?”
“The what, zur?”
“The contents; what’s in it.”
“Oa! Noa, zur.”
“You don’t know what’s in the petition!—Why, ain’t you the petitioner himself?”
“Noa, zur, I doan’t nar that I be, zur.”
[“Snooks! Snooks! Snooks!” issued a voice from a stout and benevolent-looking elderly gentleman from behind, “how can you say so, Snooks? It’s your petition.” The prompting, however, seemed to produce but little impression upon him for whom it was intended, whatever effect it may have had upon the minds of those whose ears it reached, but for whose service it was not intended].
“Really, Mr. Chairman,” observed the Agent for the Bill, who appeared to have no idea of Burking the inquiry, “this is growing interesting.”
“The interest is all on your side,” remarked the Agent for the petition (against the Bill).
“Now, Snooks,” continued the Agent for the Bill, “apply your mind to the questions I shall put to you, and let me
caution you to reply to them truly and honestly. Now, tell me—who got you to sign this petition?”
“I object to the question,” interposed the Agent for the petition. “The matter altogether is descending into mean, trivial, and unnecessary details, which I am surprised my friend opposite should attempt to trouble the Committee with.”
“I can readily understand, sir,” replied the other, “why my friend is so anxious to get rid of this inquiry—simple and short as it will be; but I trust, sir, that you will consider it of sufficient importance to allow it to proceed. I purpose to put only a few questions more on this extraordinary petition against the Bill (the bare meaning of the name of which the petitioner does not seem to understand) for the purpose of eliciting some further information respecting it.”
The Committee being thus appealed to by both parties, inclined their heads for a few moments in order to facilitate a communication in whispers, and then decided that the inquiry might proceed. It was evident that the matter had excited an interest in the minds and breasts of the honourable members of the Committee; created as much perhaps by the extreme mean and poverty-stricken appearance of the witness—a miserable, dirty, and decrepit old man—as by the disclosures he had already made.
“Well, Snooks, I was about to ask you (when my friend interrupted me) who got you to sign the petition, or that zummit as you call it?”
“Some genelmen, zur.”
“Who were they—do you know their names?”
“Noa, zur, co’ant say I do nar ’em a’, zur.”
“But do you know any of them, was that gentleman behind you one?”
[The gentleman referred to was the fine benevolent-looking individual who had previously kindly endeavoured to assist the witness in his answers, and who stood the present scrutiny with marked composure and complaisance].
“Yees, zur, he war one on ’em.”
“Do you know his name?”
“Noa, zur, I doant; but he be one of the railway genelmen.”
“What did he say to you, when he requested you to sign the petition?”
“He said I ware to zine (pointing to the petition) that zummit.”
“When and where, pray, did you sign it?”
“A lot o’ railway genelmen kum to me on Sunday night last; and they wo’ make me do it, zur.”
“On Sunday night last, aye!”
“What, on Sunday night!” exclaimed one honourable member on the extreme right of the Chairman, with horror depicted on his countenance; “are you sure, witness, that it was done in the evening of a Sabbath?”
“The honourable member asks you, whether you are certain that you were called upon by the railway gentlemen to sign the petition on a Sunday evening? I think you told me last Sunday evening.”
“Oa, yees, zur; they kum just as we war a garing to chapel.”
“Disgraceful, and wrong in the extreme!” ejaculated the honourable member.
“And did not that gentleman” (continued the Agent for the Bill), “nor any of the railway gentlemen, as you call them, when they requested you to sign, explain the nature and contents of the petition?”
“Noa, zur.”
“Then you don’t know at this moment what it’s for?”
“Noa, zur.”
“Of course, therefore, it’s not your petition as set forth?”
“I doant nar, zur. I zined zummit.”
“Now, answer me, do you object to this line of railway? Have you any dislike to it?”
“O, noa, zur. I shud loak to zee it kum.”
“Exactly, you should like to see it made. So you have been led to petition against it, though you are favourable to it?”
The petitioner against the Bill did not appear to comprehend the precise drift of the remark, and his only reply to the wordy fix into which the learned agent had drawn him was made in the dumb-show of scratching with his one disengaged hand (the other being employed in holding his hat) his uncombed head—an operation that created much
laughter, which was not damped by the Agent’s putting, with a serious face, a concluding question or remark to him to the effect that he presumed he (the witness) had not paid, or engaged to pay, so many guineas a day to his friend on the other side for the prosecution of the opposition against the Bill—had he; yes, or no? The witness’s appearance was the only and best answer.
The petition, of course, upon this exposé, was withdrawn.
This, the substance of what actually took place before one of the Sub-Committees on Standing orders will give some idea of the nature of many of the petitions against Railway Bills, especially on technical points. It will serve to show in some measure what heartless mockeries these petitions mostly are; the moral evils they give birth to—and that, even while complaining of errors, they are themselves made up of falsehood.