Fifty Years of Railway Life in England, Scotland and Ireland | Page 2

and now, less than a month since that night in
Donegal, I am sitting at my desk penning these opening lines.
That my undertaking will not be an easy one I know. My memory is
well stored, but unfortunately I have never kept a diary or
commonplace book of any kind. On the contrary a love of order and
neatness, carried to absurd excess, has always led me to destroy
accumulated letters or documents, and much that would be useful now
has in the past, from time to time, been destroyed and "cast as rubbish
to the void."
Most autobiographies, I suppose, are undertaken to please the writers.
That this is the case with me I frankly confess; but I hope that what I
find much pleasure in writing my readers may, at least, find some
satisfaction in reading. Vanity, perhaps, plays some part in this hope,
for, "He that is pleased with himself easily imagines that he shall please
others."
Carlyle says, "A true delineation of the smallest man, and his scene of
pilgrimage through life, is capable of interesting the greatest man; that
all men are to an unspeakable degree brothers, each man's life a strange
emblem of every man's; and that human portraits, faithfully drawn, are
of all pictures the welcomest on human walls."

I am not sure that portraits of the artist by himself, though there are
notable and noble instances to the contrary, are often successful. We
rarely "see oursels as ithers see us," and are inclined to regard our
virtues and our vices with equal equanimity, and to paint ourselves in
too alluring colours; but I will do my best to tell my tale with strict
veracity, and with all the modesty I can muster.
An autobiographer, too, exposes himself to the charge of egotism, but I
must run the risk of that, endeavouring to avoid the scathing criticism
of him who wrote:--
"The egotist . . . . . . . Whose I's and Me's are scattered in his talk, Thick
as the pebbles on a gravel walk."
Fifty years of railway life, passed in the service of various companies,
large and small, in England, Scotland and Ireland, in divers' capacities,
from junior clerk to general manager, and ultimately to the ease and
dignity of director, if faithfully presented, may perhaps, in spite of all
drawbacks, be not entirely devoid of interest.
CHAPTER II.
BOYHOOD
I was born at Sheffield, on Good Friday, in the year 1851, and my only
sister was born on a Christmas Day.
My father was in the service of the Midland Railway, as also were two
of his brothers, one of whom was the father of the present General
Manager of the Midland. When I was but ten months old my father was
promoted to the position of accountants' inspector at headquarters and
removed from Sheffield to Derby. Afterwards, whilst I was still very
young, he became Goods Agent at Birmingham, and lived there for a
few years. He then returned to Derby, where he became head of the
Mineral Office. He remained with the Midland until 1897, when he
retired on superannuation at the age of seventy-six. Except, therefore,
for an interval of about three years my childhood and youth were spent
at Derby.

My earliest recollection in connection with railways is my first railway
journey, which took place when I was four years of age. I recollect it
well. It was from Derby to Birmingham. How the wonder of it all
impressed me! The huge engine, the wonderful carriages, the imposing
guard, the busy porters and the bustling station. The engine, no doubt,
was a pigmy, compared with the giants of to-day; the carriages were
small, modest four-wheelers, with low roofs, and diminutive windows
after the manner of old stage coaches, but to me they were palatial. I
travelled first-class on a pass with my father, and great was my juvenile
pride. Our luggage, I remember, was carried on the roof of the carriage
in the good old-fashioned coaching style. Four-wheeled railway
carriages are, I was going to say, a thing of the past; but that is not so.
Though gradually disappearing, many are running still, mainly on
branch lines--in England nearly five thousand; in Scotland over four
hundred; and in poor backward Ireland (where, by the way, railways
are undeservedly abused) how many? Will it be believed--practically
none, not more than twenty in the whole island! All but those twenty
have been scrapped long ago. Well done Ireland!
From the earliest time I can remember, and until well-advanced in
manhood, I was delicate in health, troubled with a constant cough, thin
and pale. In consequence I was often absent from school; and prevented
also from sharing, as I should, and as every child should, in out-door
games