Sheriff of that County and President of this and that, for he was a man of ability and character, but simple in mind and manners as the best men mostly are. Eloquent in speech, warm-hearted and impulsive, he found it difficult to resist a joke, even at the expense of his friend. In April, 1890, he wrote me: “I hope you were not at all annoyed at my pleasantries to Mr. Pinion. I am not exactly one of those men who would rather lose a friend than a joke, but I find it hard to resist a joke when a good opportunity presents itself. I am bound to say that I would be sorry to annoy you, by a jest or in any other way.” His temper was lively but though quickly roused soon subsided, and he never harboured resentment. At the conclusion of the very first Board meeting I attended as general manager at the County Down, he followed me into my room, complimented me on the way I had discussed the business of the day, and added: “I’m sure you’ll be successful in Ireland for you have the suaviter in modo combined with the fortiter in re.” It was a pretty compliment, and sincere I knew, for no one could meet him without recognising his frank outspoken nature. On the threshold of my new work such encouragement greatly cheered me and increased my determination to do my best. Until his death, not long ago, we often corresponded on railway and other matters, and he was always my staunch friend. He had a taste, too, for poetry which we sometimes discussed. The Thomas Andrews, who went down with the Titanic in the North Atlantic, on the 14th April, 1912, was his son, the story of whose short but strenuous life, and its tragic end, is told in a little book written by Shan F. Bullock. Sir Horace Plunkett wrote an introduction to it, in which he says: “He was one of the noblest Irishmen Ulster has produced in modern times, to whom came the supreme test in circumstances demanding almost superhuman fortitude and self-control. There was not the wild excitement of battle to sustain him; death had to be faced calmly in order that others—to whom he must not even bid farewell—might live.” A few minutes before the end, so it is recorded, on the boat deck of the Titanic, the grandest sight of him was seen, as he stood with wonderful calm, throwing overboard deck chairs to those who were struggling in the water below. He had no thought of himself, but only of duty and of others. Then came the end: the Titanic, with a low long slanting dive went down and with her Thomas Andrews. He was only 39, but had attained the high position of a Managing Director of
the great firm of Harland and Wolff. I knew him as a boy, manly, handsome, high-spirited, clever—“the father of the man.” That this terrible tragedy shortened the life of his father is certain.
In 1887, and again in 1888, Bailey and I took our holidays together, visiting Normandy, Paris, Belgium, Holland and the Rhine, doing a great deal of walking, which he liked as much as I. He was the prince of travelling companions, always gay and sprightly, and spoke French with great fluency. His happy disposition, unfailing good humour, and keen enjoyment of everything, even of the occasional discomforts that arose, as in travelling discomforts will arise, especially when funds are not too plentiful, made every hour of our holiday enjoyable. He had the happy gift of seeing always the humorous and the best side of things. He acted as paymaster on our tours and presented with great regularity records of our joint expenditure with the neatness and accuracy of the perfect accountant. Never a pipe smoker, he had no special interest in pipes, but to me the happiness of our first holiday was increased by the colouring of a new meerschaum. In this delightful art I was a disciple of Samuel Swarbrick, though I needed not, as he did, the services of another in the early stages of the colouring process. Whoever has been the votary of a meerschaum will understand the pride with which I frequently displayed my pipe and its deepening colour to Bailey, often to his great amusement I must admit. In a hotel in the city of Antwerp, where we stayed for several days, we occupied adjoining bedrooms having a communicating door. One night, towards early morn, but before daylight had dawned, I was suddenly awakened out of a sound sleep, and to my astonishment saw Bailey with lighted candle standing by my bedside, with a serious look on his face. “Great Scott! what’s the matter?” I exclaimed. “My dear boy, I can’t sleep; do let me see your pipe,” he answered. With such like pleasantries he beguiled the happy times we spent together.
In these years I had another pleasure: I learned to ride, taking lessons in horsemanship at a riding school in Belfast. I soon acquired a firm seat, and my good friend H. H. (who was a practised horseman, and then lived in Belfast too) and I had many delightful rides in the beautiful country around the city. For many years, so far as opportunity and means allowed, I indulged myself in this best of all exercises.
CHAPTER XVIII.
RAILWAY RATES AND CHARGES, THE BLOCK, THE BRAKE, AND LIGHT RAILWAYS
Until the autumn of 1888 nothing occurred to disturb the even tenor of my way, and I pursued in peace my daily work at the County Down. It was interesting work and pleasant to become personally acquainted with the customers of the company, many of whom lived in towns and villages some distance from the railway, and to gain their good will. It was interesting and also satisfactory to gradually establish an improved and efficient train service and to watch the traffic expand. It was exhilarating to engage in lively competition with carriers by road who, for short distance traffic, keenly competed with the railway. It was good to introduce economies and improvements in working, and gratifying to do what one could to help and satisfy the staff—a thing, I need scarcely say, much easier to accomplish then than now.
And so the time passed until August, 1888, when the railway world was deeply moved by the introduction of the Railway and Canal Traffic Act.
This Act was the outcome of the Report of the Select Committee of 1881, before which Mr. James Grierson gave such weighty evidence. One of the most important measures Parliament ever passed, it imposed on railway companies an amount of labour and anxiety, prolonged and severe, such as I hope they may not have to face again.
The Act, as I have stated before, altered the constitution of the Railway
Commission, and also effected minor alterations in the law relating to railways and canals, but its main purpose was the revision of Maximum Rates and Charges. It ordered each company to prepare a revised classification of goods and a revised Schedule of Maximum Rates, and submit them to the Board of Trade, who, after considering objections lodged against them, were to agree (if they could) with the companies upon a classification and schedule for adoption; and if they failed, to determine a classification and schedule themselves. Public sittings at Westminster, Edinburgh and Dublin, occupying 85 days, took place, but no agreement was reached; and in their Report to Parliament the Board of Trade embodied a Revised Classification and a standard Schedule of Maximum Rates for general adoption. The Schedule included Terminals. In accordance with the Act, it then became necessary for this Revised Classification and Schedule to be confirmed by Parliament. Against them petitions were lodged by both railways and traders, and the whole matter was referred to a Joint Committee of both Houses. This Committee sat in 1891 from April till July; but it was not until January, 1893, that all was completed and the Revised Classification and the new rates brought into force. Little time was afforded to the companies for their part of the work. The whole system of rates was changed. New rates had to be calculated on the new scale; thousands of rate books had to be compiled, and millions of rates altered and revised. It was a colossal task; impossible of fulfilment in the time allowed. The application of the new Schedule forcibly reduced many rates, inflicting much loss upon the companies, and because the companies advanced other rates (within the limits of the new maximum powers of course) to meet this loss, or to meet it to some extent, a storm of abuse arose and swept across the land. A trader from Berwick-on-Tweed, more frank than most, wrote the following “characteristic” letter as it was called at the time:—