The General Manager of the Glasgow and South-Western Railway and his office I have described, but I have not spoken, except in a general way, of the other principal officers, with whom, as Mr. Wainwright’s assistant, I came into close and intimate relationship. They, alas! are no more. I have outlived them all. Each has played his part, and made, as we all must do, his exit from the stage of life.
Prominent amongst these officers was John Mathieson, Superintendent of the Line, who was only twenty-nine when appointed to that responsible post. We became good friends. He began work at the early age of thirteen, had grown up on the railway and at nineteen was a station master. He was skilful in out-door railway work, and an adept in managing trains and traffic. Ambitious and a bit touchy regarding his office, all was not always peace between his and other departments, particularly the goods manager’s. The goods manager was not aggressive, and it was sometimes thought that Mathieson inclined to encroach upon his territory. Often angry correspondence
and sometimes angry discussion ensued. Yet, take him for all in all, John Mathieson was a fine man with nothing small in his composition. Soon his ambition was gratified. In 1889 he was appointed Chief Commissioner of the Railways of Queensland; and after a few years occupation of that post was invited by the Victorian Government to the same position in connection with the railways of that important State. In 1900 he left Australia and became General Manager of the Midland Railway; but his health unfortunately soon failed, and at the comparatively early age of sixty he died at Derby in the year 1906. In his early days, on the Glasgow and South-Western, Mathieson was a hard fighter. Those were the days when between the Scottish railway companies the keenest rivalry and the bitterest competition existed. The Clearing House in London, where the railway representatives met periodically to discuss and arrange rates and fares and matters relating to traffic generally, was the scene of many a battle. Men like James MacLaren of the North British, Tom Robertson of the Highland, Irvine Kempt of the Caledonian, and A. G. Reid of the Great North of Scotland were worthy of Mathieson’s steel. Usually Mathieson held his own. Irvine Kempt I cannot imagine was as keen a fighter as the rest, for he was rather a dignified gentleman with fine manners. To gain a few tons of fish from a rival route, by superior service, keen canvassing, or by other less legitimate means, was a source of fierce joy to these ardent spirits. The disputes were sometimes concerned with through traffic between England and Scotland, and then the English railway representatives took part, but not with the keenness and intensity of their northern brethren, for the Saxon blood has not the fiery quality of the crimson stream that courses through the veins of the Celt. Now all is changed. Combination has succeeded to competition, alliances and agreements are the tranquil order of the day, and the Clearing House has become a Temple of Peace.
Between David Dickie, Goods Manager, and John Mathieson, Passenger Superintendent, as I have said, many differences arose. I sometimes thought that Mathieson might well have shown more consideration to one so much his senior in years as Dickie was. Poor Dickie! Before I left Scotland he met a tragic death. He was a kind-hearted man, a canny Scot, and died rich.
James Stirling was the Locomotive Superintendent. He and Mathieson
did not always agree, and the clash of arms frequently raged between them. Mr. Wainwright’s suavity often, and not infrequently his authority, were required to adjust these domestic broils, but as all deferred to him willingly, the storms that arose were usually short lived.
In 1878 Mathieson and I took a short holiday together and crossed to Ireland. It was our first visit to that unquiet but delightful country, in which, little as I thought then, I was destined a few years later to make my home.
It was in January, 1879, that the headquarters of the company were removed from the old and narrow Bridge Street Station to the new palatial St. Enoch, and there a splendid set of offices was provided. This was another advantage much to my taste. St. Enoch was and is certainly a most handsome and commodious terminus. Originally it had one great roof of a single span, second only to that of St. Pancras Station. Other spans, not so great, have since been added, for the business of St. Enoch rapidly grew, and enlarged accommodation soon became necessary. In 1879 it had six long and spacious platforms, now it has twelve; then the number of trains in and out was 43 daily, now it has reached 286; then the mileage of the railway was 319, now it is 466; then the employees of the company numbered 4,010 and now they are over 10,000. These figures exemplify the material growth of industrial Scotland in the forty years that have passed. St. Enoch Station was not disfigured by trade advertisements, and it is with great satisfaction I learn that the same good taste has prevailed to this day. Not long after it was opened a great grocery and provision firm, the knightly head of which is still a well-known name, offered to the company a large annual sum for the use of the space under the platform clock, which could be seen from all parts of the station, which the directors, on the representation of their general manager, declined; and I am proud to remember that my own views on the subject, pretty forcibly expressed, when my chief discussed the subject with me, strengthened his convictions and helped to carry the day in the board room. The indiscriminate and inartistic way in which throughout the land advertisements of all sorts crowd our station walls and platforms is an outrage on good taste. If advertisements must appear there, some hand and eye endowed with the rudiments of art ought to control them. In no
country in the world does the same ugly display mar the appearance of railway stations; and considering what myriad eyes daily rest on station premises it is well worth while on æsthetic grounds to make their appearance as pleasant and as little vulgar as possible. The question of revenue to the companies need not be ignored for proper and efficient control would produce order, moderation, neatness, artistic effect—and profit.
With the principal clerks of the office staff my relations were very pleasant. The consideration with which I was treated by my chief, and the footing upon which I stood with him, gave me a certain influence which otherwise I should not have possessed. Till then there had been absent from the company’s staff any gathering together for purposes of common interest or mutual enjoyment. The Railway Benevolent Institution provided a rallying point. I had been appointed its representative on the Glasgow and South-Western Railway and we held meetings and arranged concerts in its aid. Then, after a time, we established for the principal clerks and goods agents and certain grades of station masters, an annual day excursion into the country, with a dinner and songs and speeches. “Tatlow is good at the speak,” said publicly one of my colleagues, in his broad Scotch way, and so far as it was true this I daresay helped me. I was made permanent president of these excursions and feasts, and often had to “hold forth,” which I must confess I rather enjoyed. We christened ourselves The Railway Ramblers. The fact that I became the Scotch correspondent of the Railway Official Gazette, a regular contributor to the Railway News, and had access to the columns of several newspapers, enabled reports of our doings to appear in print, and diffused some pleasure and pride throughout the service. Also I became a weekly contributor of Scotch Notes to the Montreal Herald. In the Railway Official Gazette was a column devoted to short reviews of new books which were sent to the editor. For a time, from some reason or other, I undertook this reviewing. Possession of the books was the only recompense, though for all other work payment in money was made. It was a daring thing on my part and I am sure many a reader of the paper must have smiled at my criticisms. I forget why I soon gave up the duty; probably from incompetence, for I am sure I was not at all qualified for such a task; but what will the audacity of youth not attempt? This journalistic