“As the clock struck twelve, the doors of the office were about to be closed, when a gentleman with the plans of one of the Surrey railways arrived, and, with the greatest difficulty, succeeded in obtaining admission. A lull of a few minutes here occurred; but, just before the expiration of the first quarter of an hour, a post chaise, with reeking horses, drove up, in hot haste, to the entrance. In a moment, its occupants (three gentlemen) alighted, and rushed down the passage, towards the office door, each bearing a plan of Brobdingnagian dimensions. On reaching the door, and finding it closed, the countenances of all drooped; but one of them, more valorous than the rest, and prompted by the bystanders, gave a loud pull at the bell. It was answered by Inspector Otway, who informed the ringer it was now too late, and that his plans could not be received. The agents did not wait for the conclusion of the unpleasant communication, but took advantage of the door being opened, and threw in their papers, which broke the passage lamp in their fall. They were thrown back into the street. When the door was again opened, again went in the plans, only to meet a similar fate.

“In the whole, upwards of 600 plans were duly deposited.”

CHAPTER XXVII.

Collapse of the Railway Mania—Sheriff’s Officers—Hudson, the Railway King—First “Ethiopian Serenaders”—The Nigger Minstrel Craze—Commencement of Irish Famine—“The Battle of the Gauges”—Railway Surveyors—Suicide of Haydon, the painter.

Although the collapse of the Railway Mania really began in 1845, its effects were not fully felt until the commencement of this year, when 10 per cent. on Railway Capital had to be lodged with the Accountant General, within seven days from the assembling of Parliament, which in this case meant the 29th Jan. It really received its first serious wound when the Bank of England rose its rate of discount on 16 Oct., but it was only when the calls had to be paid, that it was found how rotten the whole concern was, as the Marquis of Clanricarde, in a speech, plainly exposed. Said he: “One of the names to the deed, to which he was anxious to direct their attention, was that of a gentleman, said to reside in Finsbury Square, who had subscribed to the amount of £25,000; he was informed no such person was known at that address. There was, also, in the Contract deed, the name of an individual who had figured in the Dublin and Galway Railway Case, who was down for £5,000, and who was understood to be a half-pay officer, in the receipt of £54 a year, but who appeared as a subscriber in different railway schemes to the amount of £41,500. The address of another, whose name was down for £12,200, was stated to be in Watling Street, but it appeared he did not reside there. In the case of another individual down for £12,500, a false address was found to have been given. Another individual, whom he would not name, was a curate in the parish in Kent; he might

be worth all the money for which he appeared responsible in various railway schemes, but his name appeared for £25,000 in different projects, and stood for £10,000 in this line. Another individual, who was down for £25,000, was represented to be in poor circumstances. A clerk in a public company was down for upwards of £50,000. There were several more cases of the same kind, but he trusted he had stated enough to establish the necessity of referring the matter to a Committee. There were, also, two brothers, sons of a charwoman, living in a garret, one of whom had signed for £12,500, and the other for £25,000; these two brothers, excellent persons, no doubt, but who were receiving about a guinea and a half between them, were down for £37,000.”

The story of the collapse is so admirably told by Mr. Francis, that I prefer giving his version than writing of it myself:

“Money was scarce, the price of stock and scrip lowered; the confidence of the people was shaken, and a vision of a dark future on every face. Advertisements were suddenly withdrawn from the papers, men of note were seen no more as provisional committeemen; distrust followed the merchant to the mart and the jobber to the Exchange. The new schemes ceased to be regarded; applications ceased to be forwarded; premiums were either lowered, or ceased to exist. Bankers looked anxiously to the accounts of their customers; bill brokers scrutinised their securities; and every man was suspicious of his neighbour.

“But the distrust was not confined to projected lines. Established railways felt the shock, and were reduced in value. Consols fell one and a half per cent.; Exchequer bills declined in price, and other markets sympathised. The people had awoke from their dream, and trembled. It was a national alarm.

“Words are weak to express the fears and feelings which prevailed. There was no village too remote to escape the shock, and there was, probably, no house in town some occupant of which did not shrink from the morrow. The Statesman started to find his new Bank Charter so sadly and so suddenly tried; the peer, who had so thoughtlessly invested, saw ruin opening to his view. Men hurried with bated breath to their brokers; the allottee was uneasy and suspicious, the provisional committeeman grew pale at his fearful responsibility; directors ceased to boast their blushing honours, and promoters saw their expected profits evaporate. Shares which, the previous week, were a fortune, were, the next, a fatality, to their owners. The reputed shareholders were not found when they were wanted; provisional committeemen were not more easy of access.

“One Railway advertised the names and addresses of thirty—none of whom were to be heard of at the residences ascribed to them. Letters were returned to the Post Office day after day. Nor is this to be wondered at, when it is said that, on one projected line, only £60 was received for deposits, which should have yielded £700,000.

“It was proved in the Committee of the House of Commons, that one subscription list was formed of ‘lame ducks of the Alley’; and that, in another, several of the Directors, including the Chairman, had, also, altered their several subscriptions to the amount of £100,000, the very evening on which the list was deposited, and that five shillings a man was given to anyone who would sign for a certain number of shares.

“Nothing more decidedly marked the crisis which had arrived, than the fact that everyone hastened to disown railways. Gentlemen who had been buried in prospectuses, whose names and descriptions had been published under every variation that could fascinate the public, who had figured as Committeemen, and received the precious guineas for their attendance, were eager to assure the world that they were ignorant of this great transgression. Men who, a month before, had boasted of the large sums they had made by scrip, sent advertisements to papers denying their responsibility, or appealed to the Lord Mayor to protect their characters. Members of Parliament who had remained quiet under the infliction, while it was somewhat respectable, fell back upon their privileges, when they saw their purses in danger. There is no doubt that an unauthorised use of names was one feature of fraudulent companies, and that, amidst a list of common names, it was thought a distinguished one might pass unnoticed. The complaints, therefore, of those who were thus unceremoniously treated, were just; but the great mass of denials emanated from persons who, knowingly, encountered the risk, and, meanly, shrunk from the danger.

“It is the conviction of those who were best informed, that no other panic was ever so fatal to the middle class. It reached every hearth, it saddened every heart in the metropolis. Entire families were ruined. There was scarcely an important town in England but what beheld some wretched suicide. Daughters, delicately nurtured, went out to seek their bread; sons were recalled from academies; households were separated, homes were desecrated by the emissaries of the law. There was a disruption of every social tie. The debtors’ jails were peopled with promoters; Whitecross Street was filled with speculators; and the Queen’s Bench was full to overflowing. Men, who had lived comfortably and independently, found themselves suddenly responsible for sums they had no means of paying. In some cases, they yielded their all, and began the world anew; in others, they left the country for the continent, laughed at their creditors, and defied pursuit. One gentleman was served with four hundred writs; a peer, when similarly pressed, when offered to be relieved from all liabilities for £15,000, betook himself to his yacht, and forgot, in the beauties of the Mediterranean, the difficulties which had surrounded him. Another gentleman who, having nothing to lose, surrendered himself to his creditors, was a director of more than twenty lines. A third was Provisional Committeeman to fifteen. A fourth, who commenced life as a printer, who became insolvent in 1832 and a bankrupt in 1837, who had negotiated partnerships, who had arranged embarrassed affairs, who had collected debts, and turned his attention to anything, did not disdain, also, to be a Railway promoter, a Railway director, or to spell his name in a dozen different ways.”

The Sheriff’s Officers had a busy time of it, and Punch, in “Going Out Arresting,” gives the following colloquy between two of the fraternity: