By his friends and intimates he was called Tom, and mere acquaintances even usually spoke of him as Tom Robertson. Rarely was he designated Thomas. A man who is known so familiarly is generally a good fellow, and Tom Robertson was no exception, though he possessed some pretty strong qualities, and was particularly fond of getting his own way.
In his early days at the Great Northern, sundry skirmishes at the Clearing House had taken place between him and me, which for a time produced a certain amount of estrangement, but we afterwards became excellent friends and saw a good deal of each other. He was no longer a general manager, having given up that post for another which was pressed upon him—the post of Chairman of the Irish Board of Works. It was certainly unusual, unheard of one might say, in those days, for an important government office to be conferred upon a railway official, though now it would excite but little surprise. The Government it was thought contemplated something in the shape of a railway policy in Ireland, and had spotted Robertson as the man for the job; it was certainly said that someone in high authority, taken greatly by his sturdy independence, his unconventional ways, and his enormous energy, had determined to try the novel experiment which such an appointment meant. I do not think that Robertson himself ever really enjoyed the change. He liked variety it is true, but governmental
ways were not, he often said, his ways, and he seemed to lack the capacity to easily adapt himself to new grooves. Unconventional he certainly was, and never in London even would he wear a tall hat or a tail coat; nor could he ever be persuaded to attend a levee or any State function whatever. He usually dressed in roughish tweeds, with trousers unfashionably wide, and a flaming necktie competing with his bright red cheeks, which contrasted strongly with his dark hair and beard. He was, however, a strong manly fellow, with a great deal of determination mingled with good humour. Usually in high spirits, he often displayed a boyish playfulness that resembled the gambols of a big good-natured dog. He was musical too, and would sing Annie Laurie for you at any time, accompanying himself on the piano. To practical joking he was rather addicted, and once I was his reluctant accomplice, but am glad to say it was the last time I ever engaged in such rude pleasantry. I can write of him now the more freely that he is no longer of this world. Excessive energy hastened his death. In 1901 he went to India to investigate for the Government the railways there, and to report upon them. It was a big task, occupied him a long time, and I am told he worked and lived there as though he were in his native temperate zone. His restless energy was due I should say to superabundant vitality. Once, when he and I were in London together, on some railway business, we took a stroll after dinner (it was summertime) and during a pause in our conversation he surprised me by exclaiming: “Tatlow, I’m a restless beggar. I’d like to have a jolly good row with somebody.” “Get married,” said I. This tickled him greatly and restored his good humour. He lived and died a bachelor nevertheless.
In 1896 the Railways (Ireland) Act was passed, and with it Robertson had much to do. Its purpose ran: “To facilitate the construction of Railways and the Establishment of other means of Communication in Ireland, and for other purposes incidental thereto.” It provided for further advances by the Treasury, under prescribed conditions, for constructing railways and for establishing lines of steamers, coaches, etc., which were shown to be necessary for the development of the resources of any district, where owing to the circumstances of such district, they could not be made without government assistance. It also authorised the construction and maintenance, as
part of such railways, of any pier, quay or jetty. This little Act, which consisted of thirteen sections (I wonder he did not think the number unlucky), was Robertson’s particular pet. Concerning its clauses, from the time they were first drafted, many a talk we had together over a cup of tea with, to use his own expression, “a wee drappie in’t.” I may have hinted as much, but do not think I have mentioned before that he was a Scotchman and a Highlander.
In the same year was passed the Light Railways Act, an Act which applied to Great Britain only. Ireland had already had her share (some thought more than her share) of light railway legislation, with its accompanying doles in the shape of easy loans and free gifts, whilst England and Scotland had been left in the cold. It was their turn now; but as this Act, and the subject of light railways generally, formed the substance of a paper which I prepared and read in 1900 before the International Railway Congress at Paris, and of which I shall speak later on, I will pass it now without more comment.
At Robertson’s request I appeared as a witness this year for the Great Northern Railway, before Committees of both Houses of Parliament, in connection with a Bill which sought powers to construct an extension of the Donegal railway from Strabane to Londonderry. Robertson himself did not give evidence in the case. Before the Committees sat he had left the Great Northern for the Board of Works, and Henry Plews, his successor, represented the Great Northern Railway. The proposed line was in direct competition with the Great Northern, and they sought my aid in opposing it. Certainly there was no need for two railways, but Parliament thought otherwise and passed the Bill. Indeed Parliament is not free from blame for many unnecessary duplicated lines throughout the kingdom. Competition was for long its fetish; now it is unification, and (blessed word!) co-ordination. Strange how men are taken with fine words and phrases, and what slaves they are to shibboleths! Before the House of Commons Committee which sat on this Bill I had the pleasure, for the first time, of being examined by Balfour Browne. He was leader in the case for the Great Northern, and I met him also in consultations which took place. Since then I have crossed swords with him too, and always I must confess with keen enjoyment. His
knowledge of railway matters was so remarkable, his mind so practiced, alert, and luminous, that it was rare excitement to undergo cross-examination at his hands. In his book, Forty Years at the Bar, he himself says: “I have not had many opportunities of giving evidence, but I confess that when I have been called as a witness I have enjoyed myself.” Well, I can say that I have had many such opportunities, and can truthfully declare that I have enjoyed them all.
A few weeks holiday in Holland, Cologne, the Rhine and Frankfort, with some days on the homeward journey in Brussels, all in company of my dear delightful friend, Walter Bailey, complete the annals of this year, except that I recall a little arbitration case in which I was engaged. It was during the summer, in July I think. The Grand Canal (not the canal which belongs to the Midland and is called the Royal) is a waterway which traverses 340 miles of country. Not that it is all canal proper, some of it being canalised river and loughs; but 154 miles are canal pure and simple, the undisputed property of the Grand Canal Company. On a part of the river Barrow which is canalised, an accident happened, and a trader’s barge was sunk and goods seriously damaged. Dispute arose as to liability, and I was called on to arbitrate. To view the scene of the disaster was a pleasant necessity, and the then manager of the company (Mr. Kirkland) suggested making a sort of picnic of the occasion; so one morning we left the train at Carlow, from whence a good stout horse towed, at a steady trot, a comfortable boat for twenty miles or so to the locus of the accident. We were a party of four, not to mention the hamper. It was delightfully wooded scenery through which we passed, and a snug little spot where we lunched. After lunch and the arbitration proceedings had been despatched, our Pegasus towed us back.
I must return again to Robertson, the Board of Works, and light railways. Preliminary to the authorisation of light railways in Ireland, the legislation which had been passed concerning them required that the Board of Works should appoint fit and proper persons to make public inquiry regarding the merits of proposed lines, as to engineering, finance, construction, the favour or objection with which they were regarded by landowners and others, the amount of capital required, the assistance that would