I have spoken previously of the beaux I knew in the higher ranks of the railway service but, strange to say, omitted to mention Edward John who, in some respects outshone all others. His coat may not have been cut by a west-end tailor, his hat may not have been a Lincoln Bennett, or his necktie the latest production of Burlington Arcade, but who could wear a tall white hat with a black band, with the least little rakish tilt, and a light grey frock coat with a rose in the buttonhole, with such an air and grace as he?
He appreciated keenly all the good things that life can give and loved his fellow men. Pax vobiscum, kind, warm-hearted Edward John! You were an ornament to the railway world and always my friend.
It was Cotton and his Chairman, the Right Hon. John Young, who put in my way my first arbitration case, to which I have in a previous chapter alluded. This, as far as I remember, occurred in 1886. A dispute had arisen between the Northern Counties Company and a small railway company whose line they worked, concerning, I think, the payment for and use of some sidings. I conducted the proceedings of course with the greatest of care, attended, perhaps, with a little trepidation, summoned every possible witness to appear before me, and visited in state the locus. Edward John was, I think, a little amused. Much older than I he had long since passed through these youthful phases. I issued my award, with the usual result that while each party was fairly well pleased neither was altogether satisfied. I was proud of my début as an arbitrator, especially as it was rewarded by, what seemed to me then, a very handsome fee.
In January, 1886, an incident that is worth narrating occurred. In my office a new junior clerk was required. An advertisement in the newspapers produced a large number of applications, and about a dozen of the applicants were selected to be seen, one after the other, by Pinion and myself. Before lunch one day we interviewed half a dozen or so. Returning together from lunching in the city, as we neared the station, Pinion drew my attention to a youth who was evidently making for the railway premises. Said I to Pinion: “If that youth is one of the candidates, I’ll be surprised if he’s not the boy for us.” It was only a back view we had of him, but he held himself so well, walked so briskly, looked so neat, smart, and businesslike that he arrested attention. That boy, Charles A. Moore, then fresh from school and just fifteen, is now general manager of the railway!
It was in 1886, too, that I first met Walter Bailey, between whom and myself a friendship sprung up which grew in depth and sincerity as time went on, lasted for thirty years, and was only terminated by his lamented death in January, 1917. The friendship thus formed yielded much pleasure and happiness to me and, I think I may safely say, also to my departed friend. Bailey, who was about my own age, came to Ireland from the
South-Eastern Railway, soon after my settlement in Belfast, to fill the position of Accountant to the Belfast and Northern Counties Railway. Two young Englishmen, landed in Ireland, engaged in the same sort of business, in the same city, would naturally gravitate towards each other but, more than this, what made us such intimate friends were, tastes in common, similarity of views, especially concerning railway affairs, a mutual liking for literary matters, and—well, other less definable things that form the foundation of all true friendships. Throughout our long intimacy we often took counsel together on subjects of mutual interest, but it was I who sought his advice and help much oftener than he sought mine, for he was cleverer than I. Indeed in the whole railway world I never met an intellect so quick, or so clear and luminous as his.
Bailey was the most unselfish man I ever knew; the readiest to help others. His pen, his remarkable stores of knowledge, and his spare time too, were always at the service, not only of his friends, but often of those who were scarcely more than mere acquaintances. The amount of work which he cheerfully imposed upon himself in this way was astounding and never was it done grudgingly or half-heartedly, but always promptly and generously. It afforded him a pleasure that only one endowed as he could feel. This part of him was often the subject of talk with those of us who knew him well. But what charmed me most, more even than his brilliant mental gifts, were the sweetness of his disposition and his quaintly quizzical and happy humour. Ambition was not strong in him, was in fact all but absent, and he often rallied me on mine. He never in all his life asked for any improvement in salary or position; but, in spite of his inveterate modesty, rose high, became Chief Accountant of the Midland Railway of England and, I should say, the leading railway accountant in the United Kingdom. On railway matters he was a writer of great skill, and all he wrote was enlivened with the happiest humour. To the Railway News he was a valued contributor, and in railway polemics a master.
The Director on the County Down with whom I became most intimate was the Right Honourable (then Mr.) Thomas Andrews. He was brother to Judge Andrews; brother-in-law of Lord Pirrie; became Chairman of the Company; was made a Privy Councillor; a Deputy Lieutenant of Down; High