Our last hours in the land of the Pharaohs were filled with regret at having to leave it so soon. Said Bailey: “Cannot you, before we go, write a verse of Farewell?” So I composed the following:—
Egypt, farewell, and farewell Father Nile,
Impenetrable Sphinx, eternal pile
Of broad-based pyramid, and spacious hypostyle!Farewell Osiris, Anubis and Set,
Horus and Ra, and gentle Meskenhet,
Ye sacred gods of old, O must we leave you yet?The mighty works of Ramesis the Great,
Memphis, Karnak and Thebes asseverate
The pomp and glory, Egypt, of your ancient state.Bright cloudless land! Your skies of heavenly blue
Bend o’er your fellaheen the whole day through;
Night scarce diminishes their sweet celestial hue.Realm of enchantment, break your mystic spell,
Land of the lotus, smiling land farewell!
For ever it may be, what oracle can tell?
CHAPTER XXVII.
KING EDWARD, A CHANGE OF CHAIRMEN, AND MORE RAILWAY LEGISLATION
The memorable visit to Ireland of His Majesty King Edward, in the summer of 1903, which embraced all parts of the country, furnished I think no incident so unique as his reception in Connemara. On the morning of the 30th July the Royal Yacht anchored off Leenane, in Killery Bay, and His Majesty landed in Connaught. He was accompanied by Queen Alexandra and Princess Victoria. This was the first time, I believe, that the people west of the Shannon had seen their King, and whatever their politics, or aspirations were, he was certainly received with every manifestation of sincere good will. His genial personality and ingratiating bonhomie, his humanity, and his sportsmanlike characteristics, appealed at once to Irish instincts, and Connaught was as enthusiastic in its welcome as the rest of Ireland. The Royal party motored from Leenane to Recess, where they lunched at the Company’s hotel, and where, of course, the Chairman, directors and chief officers of the railway, as well as local magnates, were assembled to assist in the welcome. On nearing Recess a surprise awaited the King. He was met by the “Connemara Cavalry,” which escorted the Royal Party to the hotel and acted as bodyguard. Mr. John O’Loughlin, of Cashel, had organised this new and unexpected addition to His Majesty’s Forces. It consisted of about 100 farmers, farmer’s sons and labourers, of all ages from 18 to 80, mounted (mostly bareback) on hardy Connemara ponies. “Buffalo Bill” hats, decorated
with the Royal colours or with green ribbon streamers, distinguished them from others. It was a striking scene, unexpected, novel, unique; but quite in harmony with the surroundings and the wild and romantic scenery of Connemara and the Killeries. The King plainly showed his hearty appreciation. After lunch their Majesties visited the marble quarries, situated some three miles distant, and reached by a rough and rocky precipitous mountain road, for which motor cars were entirely unsuited. For this journey the marble quarry people had ordered a carriage and horses from Dublin, but which, by some unfortunate occurrence, had not turned up. Though the only carriage available in the neighbourhood was ill-suited for royalty, the King and Queen, good naturedly, made little of that. They were too delighted with the unmistakable warmth of their welcome to mind such a trifle. Again the “Cavalry” were in attendance and escorted the party to the quarries and back.
The Royal visit to Ireland, on the whole, was an unqualified success, and there were many who hoped and believed that the King’s good will towards the country and its people, and his remarkable gifts as a peacemaker, would in some way help to a solution of the Irish question; but, alas! that question is with us still, and when and how it will be solved no man can tell. For myself, I am one of those who indulge in hope, remembering that Time, in his healing course, has a way of adjusting human misunderstandings and of bringing about the seemingly impossible.
It was in this year (1903) that I first met Charles Dent, the present General Manager of the Great Northern Railway of England. He had been appointed General Manager of the Great Southern and Western Railway in succession to R. G. Colhoun. Dent and I often met. We found we could do good work for our respective companies by reducing wasteful competition and adopting methods of friendly working. In this we were very successful. A man of few words, disdaining all unnecessary formalities, but getting quickly at the heart and essence of things, it was always a pleasure to do business with him.
In this year also I enjoyed some variety by way of an inquiry which I made for the Board of Works, concerning certain proposed light railway extensions, called the Ulster and Connaught, and which involved the ticklish task of estimating probable traffic receipts and working expenses—a task
for which the gift of prophecy almost is needed. To determine, in this uncertain world, the future of a railway in embryo might puzzle the wisest; but, with the confidence of the expert, I faced the problem and, I hope, arrived at conclusions which were at least within a mile of the mark.
In 1904 that fine old railway veteran, Sir Ralph Cusack, resigned his position of Chairman of the Midland and was succeeded by the Honourable Richard Nugent, youngest son of the ninth Earl of Westmeath; Major H. C. Cusack, Sir Ralph’s nephew and son-in-law, becoming Deputy Chairman—the first (excepting for a few brief months in 1903 when Mr. Nugent occupied the position) the Midland ever had. With Sir Ralph’s vacation of the chair, autocratic rule on the Midland, which year by year, had steadily been growing less, disappeared entirely and for ever. Well, Sir Ralph in his long period of office had served the Midland faithfully, with a single eye to its interests, and good wishes followed him in his retirement. Mr. Nugent was a small man, that is physically, but intellectually was well endowed. He had scholarly tastes and business ability in pretty equal parts. Movement and activity he loved, and, as he often told me, preferred a holiday in Manchester or Birmingham to the Riviera or Italian Lakes. He liked to be occupied, was fond of details, and possessed a lively curiosity. Sometimes he was thought, as a chairman, to err in the direction of too rigid economy, but on a railway such as the Midland, and in a country such as Ireland, economy was and is an excellent thing, and if he erred, it was on the right side. Truth, candour, courage and enthusiasm marked his character in a high degree. Fearless in speech, the art of dissimulation he never learned. I shall not readily forget a speech he once made at the Railway Companies’ Association in London. It was on an occasion of great importance, when all the principal companies of the United Kingdom were present. It was altogether unpremeditated, provoked by other speeches with which he disagreed, and its directness and courage—for it was a bold and frank expression of honest conviction, such as tells in any assembly—created some stir and considerable comment. Of plain homely mother-wit he had an uncommon share, and his mind was stored with quotations which came out in his talk with wonderful ease and aptness. A shrewd observer, his comments (always good-natured if critical) on his fellow men were worth listening to.