“A little incident of which I was apparently the sole Winnipeg witness, in connection with Sir Thomas, occurred on a perfect May morning. The President was to arrive and did arrive on a special train from Montreal, shortly before eight o’clock, and I caught him just as he stepped from his car. As usual he was courteous and ready to talk to the press and said that if I would wait until after breakfast he would answer any questions I could ask. His car, the Killarney, was left standing on the track closest to the depot. The rear was all glass, and all the members of his party, seated at the breakfast table—there were not more than four or five—were in full view. Taking no chances I remained in close proximity, waiting for the end of the meal when the interview would be obtainable. There was at that time no train shed at the Canadian Pacific depot and there was a wide expanse of board walk. At the moment of the little incident to which I refer this sidewalk was absolutely clear. Strange to say, there was not a red cap nor a Canadian Pacific police or official of any kind in sight. A local train was standing on one track, well loaded, and ready to pull out in a few moments.
“Suddenly I saw Sir Thomas arise and come quickly out of the car. Believing that he was coming to meet his appointment with me, I went forward. He passed me by saying ‘Not yet.’ I then noticed that a slight, small, foreign woman, in a worn, discoloured cotton dress, carrying her possessions in a white sheet, a big package about three feet high and three feet wide at the widest, and with four small children, was making her way across the expanse of sidewalk. The conductor had just given the signal for departure. Sir Thomas hurried to the side of the woman, gave a signal to the trainmen, took the huge bundle in the white sheet in one hand and one of the children by the other, helped the woman to the train, handed the white bundle to the brakeman, lifted the four children up the steps, aided the foreign woman up, and returned to his breakfast. A little later he was telling me in his private car of the plans of the Company for immigration work that year, about the new lines that were to be built, betterments which were to be made, and the prospects for the future in the prairie country, then humming with prosperity and brimming over with optimism.”
I can quite imagine this scene at the old station I knew well in the early days. It was not then so ornate or so much protected by fences and gates, but it afforded opportunities for deeds of the kind recorded above. It was a fine, but perfectly spontaneous act, on the part of the famous President, who saw from his private car the plight of the immigrant mother.
Mr. Ross adds another story which reveals a depth of feeling in this great President, which even the reporter who had been in touch with him for years had not discovered. Sir William Whyte, that princely man who had been such a tower of strength to the Canadian Pacific in its most difficult days, and who had not long before retired when two years over the age limit, had passed away somewhat suddenly during a visit to California. The funeral was, of course, in Winnipeg, where he had been the foremost citizen. Incidentally those of us who knew Sir William Whyte say a hearty amen to the allusion made to him by Mr. Ross in the following paragraph:
“Sir Thomas Shaughnessy had none of the official manner when I met him in his private office here on the day of the funeral of Sir William Whyte. Sir William had been a father to me, as he was to a good many younger men, and his death and burial concerned me much more than as a matter of news. Sir Thomas was obviously profoundly moved and I had a different feeling with reference to him always afterwards. He was never again the military dictatorial head and President of the corporation in my feeling with reference to him.”
This mention of Lord Shaughnessy and Sir William Whyte leads me to recall an incident of which both these railway men were part. Both held very strongly that the use of intoxicating drink should be pared down to the minimum if it was used at all. Once I recall that certain saloons in the North End of Winnipeg were enticing the employees of the railway to their premises by putting out notices that pay cheques would be cashed after bank hours. And one bitter winter night a railway employee who had used the proceeds of his cheque too freely for liquor was found frozen to death in the back-yard of the saloon. I saw Mr. Whyte about it the next day and he was furious over the action of the saloon keepers. He said, “We will change our method of payment, if necessary, for the welfare of the men and their families, and perhaps make drinking a dismissable offence whether on or off duty. Trainmen and others off duty may be called up for duty any time and they ought to be fit in order to avoid danger to themselves and others.” One day when both Shaughnessy and Whyte were on a train which stopped at Moose Jaw, where the Company had a hotel at the station, Shaughnessy saw some trainmen entering the bar-room. He called to the General Manager of Western Lines (that was part of Mr. Whyte’s title) and said, “Whyte, close up that bar.” Whyte asked, “Now or at the closing hour of the day?” And Shaughnessy said, “Close it now, and do not allow it ever to open again.” It is quite well known that Lord Shaughnessy would not tolerate the practice of drink or any habits usually associated with it.
Lord Shaughnessy’s power as an executive officer lay partly in the characteristics indicated already, but mainly in his tremendous prestige as a man of business whose ability as such was acknowledged the world over. When he was General Purchasing Agent for the Company he introduced a system of accounting which is said to have been adopted by the Corporation of the City of New York. There was no movement in the world of finance that he did not know about, and his mastery of the complex problem of international credits, led to his being called into the councils of the Empire both in peace and war. During the nineteen years of his Presidency, the Canadian Pacific was brought into a system of operation which was the last word in efficiency, so that, as already mentioned, he was called “King of Railway Presidents” on this continent, where the biggest railway interests of the world are in operation. His services in the years of the Great War are spoken of more fully in a chapter on that special subject. Little wonder then, that this famous chief executive officer of the Canadian Pacific was honoured by the King, first by knighthood and later by a peerage under the title Baron Shaughnessy, K.C.V.O., of Montreal, Canada, and of Ashford, County Limerick, Ireland.
When the Great War, which left him with a proud, but wounded, heart because of the death of his gallant son, Fred, at the Front was well over and things became more normal, Lord Shaughnessy felt that he should relinquish the Presidency. His age and strength admonished him that he should take things easier and call a younger man to the office to deal with the tremendous problems of the reconstruction period. So, after forty-one years of service with the road, he retired in 1918 from the Presidency, which he had occupied since 1899, but he retained to the end the office of Chairman of the Executive Board. Mr. E. W. Beatty was called to the place in succession to the “King of Presidents” and is proving that the choice was a wise one. Later on we shall write more particularly of Mr. Beatty, this youngest President of such an immense organization.
It was characteristic of Lord Shaughnessy to insist, despite Mr. Beatty’s protest, on the young President taking the large and ornate office room which Presidents had always occupied. Lord Shaughnessy kept busy at his office in the Board room every day in Montreal, till a sudden weakness of the heart carried him away after a few hours illness, on December 10th, 1923. Few incidents in the thrilling history of this pioneer transcontinental Canadian railway are so wonderfully touching and, in a true sense, dramatic, as the incident connected with Lord Shaughnessy’s death. Mr. Beatty was in to see him shortly before the end came, and to Mr. Beatty Lord Shaughnessy said: “Take good care of the Canadian Pacific Railway. It is a great Canadian property and a great Canadian enterprise.” There is nobility and solemnity in the incident. It was a long way from the entrance of young Shaughnessy to the Milwaukee Railway, at the age of fifteen, to that scene in the sick-room in his Montreal mansion. But he had been put in charge of a great trust in the Canadian Pacific, and to that trust he was “true till death.”
The passing of Lord Shaughnessy was deeply mourned by the employees of the road, who were proud of their great “Chief.” And that mourning was practically world-wide. Perhaps no better summing up of his career was written than in the London Times editorial, where, after speaking of his coming from abroad, the writer goes on to say: