Mount Stephen, Pioneer, Passes
GEORGE H. HAM
NEARLY a century ago a braw young barefooted Scotch laddie worked and played on the crofts of his home land. The other day that same sturdy little fellow was buried not far distant from where he had spent his simple early life, with all the pomp and circumstance that accompany the obsequies of the Great.
In the intervening years, the lad’s energetic and active life in different parts of the world had earned for him great wealth and crowned him with the honors becoming his new elevated status.
His life’s story reminds one that truth is stranger than fiction, for seldom is it that a country boy, through his own determination and will, overcoming seemingly unsurmountable obstacles, has reached the heights of life’s success.
George Stephen was the boy born in Dufftown, Banffshire, Scotland, in 1829, who forged his way to the forefront, who became a great Captain of Industry and a Nation Builder, who was honored by his King and country, and who left behind him an everlasting monument of his worth and greatness. He was a living embodiment of the trite old saying:—
“It’s not birth, nor wealth nor real estate,
But git up and git that makes men great.”
At fourteen years of age, with the excellent education that a Scotch school imparts to a studious scholar, he was apprenticed in the usual form to a draper and dry goods dealer in Aberdeen. Four years later, he went to London where he joined a mercantile firm. In 1850, he sought fresh fields and came to Canada, where in company with his cousin, Donald A. Smith, another young Scottish argonaut, he entered the mercantile trade in Montreal, and in three years became a member of the firm of his uncle, William Stephen, on whose death, two years later, he rose to be head of the firm.
In the manufacture of cloth he laid the foundation of what became an immense fortune.
A Born Financier
A FINANCIER of more than ordinary ability, he became interested in the Bank of Montreal, was elected a director and in 1876 was chosen vice-president, from which he shortly rose to the high position of president. Under his wise régime, the Bank of Montreal^ which was then an incipient “Bank of England, of Canada,” broadened its zone of usefulness and became one of the great financial institutions of the world.
His associations, his ability and his ambition led him to wider fields, and in his wonderful vision of the possibilities of the future he joined with other optimistic men in the building of railways which would develop the then Great Lone Land of the West. There was a railway—the St. Paul and Pacific—which was to connect the rich fields of the American West by way of Canada with the Pacific Coast, and he, with his old friend and relative, Donald A. Smith, secured a controlling interest by the purchase of the holdings of the Dutch stockholders. The road at that time had but a small mileage and was in the hands of a receiver, and the Dutchmen were only too willing to sell their stock. The road, which was renamed the St. Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba Railway Co., was reorganized and byits able direction became a great factor in western transportation.
It is told that about the time Mr. Stephen’s connection with the Bank of Montreal became so important, his cousin and he had become better acquainted. Mr. Smith was by this time chief factor of the Hudson’s Bay Company and shortly afterward became the resident governor. The cousins met as successful business men and, perhaps because they were Scotch, they sought opportunities to join
forces whenever possible. Once at least thesuggestion came from Donald Smith and this is a story of a conversation
between Mr. Smith and Mr. Stephen, which is related by a C. P. R. official in Montreal:
“Did you ever know a man called Hill, in the States?” Mr. Smith is reported to have asked his cousin one day. “A smart man; smart as a Yankee. Born somewhere in Upper Canada, but has been living in the States. J. J. Hill. Have ye heard of him?”
“A little,” admitted Mr. Stephen, “in a business way.” “Well,” pursued Mr. Smith, “the Hudson’s Bay Co. has a vessel carrying freight into Fort Garry down the Red from the States. The only other way of getting freight in there just now is by the cart trail—and by a new steamer which this man Hill has put on the river. Hill has influence with the American customs and he pull-
ed the wires till the customs made trouble for our boat crossing the line, so that Hill’s boat got all the trade for a while.”
“A canny man!” commented Mr. Stephen.
“Very,” assented Mr. Smith. “But we improved upon him. We registered our boat with our St. Paul agent and we escaped the attentions of the customs in that way, and now —Hill and ourselves have formed a company. We have developed the boat trade, but we want to do more. We want to build a railway into the Nor’ West! What would he say, George, to building a rail-
In the Field of /Transporta-
THEN and there was folded the scheme
which an American railway company which had been projected to run from St. Paul to the Pacific coast, but which had failed and been left with its twenty-five miles of track in the hands of the Dutch bond holders, was made a Canadian project, made to develop Canada, instead of American territory, and to feed Manitoba instead of the Dakotas. The plan was to buy out the Dutch bond holders and issue new bonds to enable the new company to complete the line to Winnipeg. This was the first real railway connection Western Canada had with the outside world. Messrs. Smith and
Hill and Stephen combined in the project and brought it to so successful an issue that it is said $40,000,000 were divided amongst them.
When the building of the Canadian Pacific Railway had lamentably failed under government construction in
1881, a syndicate was formed to carry on the work and fortunately for Canada in the group of capitalist, were men of the George Stephen stripe—strong, resolute, determined and optimistic. He was choseD the first president of the Company. The prospects for the success of the undertaking were not then of the brightest hue. Nearly one-half of the people of Canada thought the scheme was a mad one, and as was frequently expressed “would not pay for the grease on the axles.” The difficulties of the company at several times were almost overwhelming, but the president, always a jovial optimist, was undaunted, and he and Sir Donald Smith pledged their private fortunes to keep the road running.
So deep in the financial mire did the company sink, that it required all the adept skill of financial wizards to prevent its going into liquidation. The Dominion Government was appealed to in 1885, because as President Stephen wrote Sir John Macdonald: “It was impossible to continue the struggle for existence any longer.” The following day, the Government was informed that “the pay car could not be sent out and unless relief came the company’s operations must cease.” The sum—$5,000,000— which would be called cigarette money nowadays—was advanced by Sir John, notwithstanding there was a serious division in the cabinet over the question—and the company’s needs were temporarily relieved. Five years later, Sir John wrote to Sir George Stephen upon the birthday of the Canadian Pacific; “We can both console ourselves for all the worry we have gone through by the reflection that we havedone great good to our adopted country and to the great Empire of which it forms a part.”
A Breach Healer
THERE had been a breach between Sir John Macdonald and Donald A. Smith over the Pacific Scandal in 1872, when the Huntingdon charges against Sir John for asking Sir Hugh Allan by wire for “another $10,000" during an election campaign, brought about the downfall of the Government. Mr. Smith was a government supporter and was one of the last to speak, and when he declaimed that he would like to support the administration —“if he could conscientiously do so”—it was the last straw. Sir John was beaten and Sir John was angry and in his wrath he wildly shouted that he “could lick Smith quicker than hell could scorch a feather.” Well, this breach was healed by Sir George Stephen, who in writing Sir John
“The pluck with which he (Donald Smith) has stood by me in my efforts to sustain the credit of the C. P. R., made it almost duty on my part to try to restore friendly relations between one who has stood so courageously by the company in its time of trouble, and you, to whom alone the C. P. R. owes its existence as a real Canadian railway. I hope some day this fact will become more generally known than it is now. But for you, the C. P. R. would undoubtedly have terminated at Port Arthur in summer, and the line for six months of the year would have been simply an extension of the American line running up from St. Paul to the international boundary line, in short, not a Canadian Pacific railway at all—and the destiny of Canada, politically avd commercially, something very different to that which is now a matter of certainty—unless our people, from sheer want of faith, throw away their grand inheritance."
It is of interest to note that Mr. Stephen’s occupancy of the presidency of the C. P. R. was not an entirely uninterrupted one. One time he abdicated for a whole hour. R happened way: During construction days, Ruv Fäther
Continued on paye 42
■distracted elsewhere and had gone off to investigate some matter that called for his personal handling leaving Fillmore free to slide away to the hotel and get a bite to eat which he sorely needed. The zeal which had brought him to the training camp to inspect the final day of Mr. Butler’s preparation—for the fight was to take place on the ihorrow—had been so great that he had omitted to lunch before leaving New York.
So Fillmore made thankfully for the door. And it was at the door that he encountered Sally. He was looking over his shoulder at the moment and was not aware of her presence till she spoke.
Sally had spoken softly, but a dynamite explosion could not have shattered her brother’s composure with more completeness. In the mg twist which brought him ng her,he rose a clear three inch,rom the floor. He had a confused jnsation, as though his nervous ystem had been stirred up with a pole. He struggled for breath and moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, staring at her continuously during the process.
Great men in their moments of weakness are to be pitied rather than •scorned. If, ever a man had an excuse for leaping like a young ram.
Fillmore had it. He had left. Sally not much more than a week ago in England, in Shropshire, at Monk 'Crofton. She had said nothing of any intention on her part of leaving the country, the county, or the house. Yet here she was, in Bugs Butler’s training camp at White Plains in the State of New York, speaking softly in his ear without ■even going through the preliminary of tapping him on the shoulder to .advertise her presence. No wonder Fillmore was startled. And no wonder that, as he adjusted his faculties to the situation, there crept upon him a chill apprehension.
FOR Fillmore had not been blind to the significance of that invitation to Monk’s Crofton. Nowadays your •wooer does not formally approach a girl’s nearest relative and ask permission to pay his addresses but, when he invit■es her and that nearest relative to his country home and •collects all the rest of the family to meet her, the thing may be said to have advanced beyond the realms of mere speculation. Shrewdly Fillmore had deduced that Bruce •Carmyle was in love with Sally, and mentally he had join■ed their hands and given them a brother’s blessing. And .now it was only too plain that disaster must have occurred. If the invitation could mean only one thing, so also could Sally’s presence at White Plains mean only one thing.
“Sally!” A croaking whisper was the best he could achieve. “What.... What....?”
“Did I startle you? I’m sorry.”
“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Monk’s Crofton?”
Sally glanced past him at the ring and the crowd round •it. "I decided I wanted to get back to America. Circumstances arose which made it pleasanter to leave Monk’s •Crofton.”
“Do you mean to say—”
“Yes. Don’t let’s talk about it.”
“Do you mean to say,” persisted Fillmore, “that Carmyle proposed to you and you turned him down?”
Sally flushed. “I don’t think it’s particularly nice to talk about that sort of thing, but—yes.”
A feeling of desolation overcame Fillmore. That conviction, which saddens us all at times, of the wilful boneheadedness of our fellows, swept coldly upon him. Everytiling had been so perfect, the whole arrangement so ideal, that it had never occurred to him as a possibility that ■Sally might take it into her head to spoil it by declining to play the part allotted to her. The match was so obviously the best thing that could happen. It was not merely the suitor’s impressive wealth that made him hold this ■opinion, though it would be idle to deny that the prospect •of having a brother-in-lawful claim on the Carmyle bank balance had cast a rosy glamour over the future as he had envisaged it. He honestly liked and respected the man. He appreciated his quiet aristocratic reserve. A well-bred fellow, sensible withal, just the sort of husband a girl like Sally needed. And now she had ruined everything. With the capricious perversity which so characterizes her otherwise delightful sex, she had spilled the beans.
“Oh, Fill!” Sally had expected that realization of the facts would produce these symptoms in him, but now that they had presented themselves she was finding them rasping to the nerves. ‘“I should have thought the reason was obvious.”
“You mean you don’t like him?”
“I don’t know whether I do or not. I certainly don’t like him enough to marry him.”
“He’s a darned good fellow.”
“Is he? You say so. I don’t know.”
The imperious desire for bodily sustenance began to compete successfully for Fillmore’s notice with his spiritual anguish. “Let’s go to the hotel and talk it over. We’ll go to the hotel and I’ll give you something to eat.’
“I don’t want anything to eat, thanks.”
“You don’t want anything to eat?” said Fillmore incredulously. He supposed in a vague sort of way that
there were eccentric people of this sort, but it was hard to realize that he had met one of them. “I’m starving.” “Well, run along then.”
“Yes, but I want to talk. ...”
HE WAS not the only person who wanted to talk. At that moment a small man of sporting exterior hurried up. He wore what his tailor’s advertisements would have called a “nobby” suit of checked tweed and—in defiance of popular prejudice—a brown derby hat. Mr. Lester Burrowes, having dealt w’ith the business which had interrupted their conversation a few minutes before, was anxious to resume his remarks on the subject of his young charge.
“Say, Mr. Nicholas, you ain’t goin’? Bugs is just getting ready to spar.”
He glanced inquiringly at Sally.
“My sister—Mr. Burrowes,” said Fillmore faintly. “Mr. Burrowes is Bugs Butler’s manager.”
“How do you do?” said Sally.
“Pleased to meecher,” said Mr. Burrowes. “Say—” “I was just going to the hotel to get something to eat,” said Fillmore
Mr. Burrowes clutched at his coat button with a swoop, and held him with a glittering eye.
“Yes, but, say, before-you-go-lemme-tell-ye-somefn. You’ve never seen this boy of mine, not when he was feeling right. Believe me, he’s there! He’s a wizard. He’s a Hindu! Say, he’s been practising up a left shift that—” Fillmore’s eye met Sally’s wanly, and she pitied him. Presently she would require him to explain to her how he had dared to dismiss Ginger from his employment—and make that explanation a good one, but in the meantime she remembered that he was her brother and suffering.
“He’s the cleverest lightweight,” proceeded Mr. Burrowes fervently, “since Joe Gans. I’m telling you, and I knowl He—”
“Can he make a hundred and thirty-five ringside without being weak?” said Sally.
'T'HE effect of this simple question on Mr. Burrowes *■ was stupendous. He dropped away from Fillmore’s coat button like an exhausted bivalve, and his small mouth opened feebly. It was as if a child had suddenly propounded to an eminent mathematician some abstruse problem in the higher algebra. Females who took an interest in boxing had come into Mr. Burrowes’s life before (in his younger days, when he was a famous featherweight, the first of his three wives had been accustomed to sit at the ringside during his contests and urge him in language of the severest technicality to knock opponents’ blocks off), but somehow he had not supposed from her appearance and manner that Sally was one of the elect.
He gaped at her, and the relieved Fillmore sidled off like a bird hopping from the compelling gaze of a snake.
He was not quite sure that he was acting correctly in allowing his sister to roam at large among the somewhat Bohemian surroundings of a training camp, but the instinct of self-preservation turned the scale. He had breakfasted early, and if he did not eat right speedily it seemed to him that dissolution would set in.,
“Whazzat?” said Mr. Burrowes feebly.
“It took him fifteen rounds to get a referee’s decision over Cyclone Mullin, said Sally severely, “and K-leg
Mr. Burrowes rallied. “You ain’t got it right," he pro tested. “Say, you mustn't believe what you see in the papers. The referee was dead against us, and Cyclone was down once for ail of half a minute, and they wouldn’t count him out. Gee, you got tc kill a guy in some towns before they'11 give a decision! At that. the\ couldn’t do nothing so raw as make it anything but a win for my boy. after him leading by a mile all the way. Have you ever seem Bugs ma’am?”
Sally had to admit that she had not had that privilege. Mr. Burrowes, with growing excitement, felt, in his breast-pocket and produced a picture post card, which he thrust into her hand.
“That’s Bugs,” he said. “Take a slant at that and then tell me if he don’t look the goods.”
The photograph represented a young man in the irreducible minimum of clothing who crouched painfully as though stricken with one of the acuter forms of gastritis.
“I’ll call him over and have him sign it for you,” said Mr. Burrowes, before Sally had had time to grasp the fact that this work of art was a gift and no mere loan.“Here, Bugs, wantcher.”
A youth enveloped in a bathrobe, who had been talking to a group of admirers near the ring, turned, started languidly toward them, then, seeing Sally, quickened his pace. He was an admirer of the sex.
Mr. Burrowes did the honors. “Bugs, this is Miss Nicholas, come to see you work out. I been telling her she’s going to have a treat." And to Sally, “Shake hands with Bugs Butler, ma’am, the coming lightweight champion of the world.”
Mr. Butler’s photograph, Sally considered, had flattered him. He was, in the flesh, a singularly repellent young man. There was a mean and cruel curve to his lips and a cold arrogance in his eye; a something dangerous and sinister in the atmosphere he radiated. Moreover, she did not like the way he smirked at her.
However, she exerted herself to be amiable.
“I hope you are going to win, Mr. Butler,” she said.
The smile which she forced as she spoke the words removed the coming champion’s doubts, though they had never been serious.
“You betcher,” he assented briefly.
Mr. Burrowes looked at his watch. “Time you were starting, Bugs.”
The coming champion removed his gaze from Sally's face, into which he had been peering in a conquering manner, and cast a disparaging glance at the audience. It was far from being as large as he could have wished, and at least a third of it was composed of non-payers from the newspapers.
“All right,” he said, bored. His languor left him, as his gaze fell on Sally again, and his spirits revived somewhat. After all, small though the number of spectators might be, bright eyes would watch and admire him. “I’ll go a couple of rounds with Reddy for a starter,” he said. “Seen him anywheres? He’s never around when he’s wanted.”
“I’ll fetch him,” said Mr. Burrowes. “He’s back there
“I’m going to show that guy up this afternoon,” said Mr. Butler coldly. “He’s been getting too fresh.”
The manager bustled off, and Bugs Butler, with a final smirk, left Sally and dived under the ropes. There was a stir of interest in the audience, though the newspaper men. blasé through familiarity, exhibited no emotion. Presently Mr. Burrowes reappeared, shepherding a young man whose face was hidden by the sweater which he was pulling over his head. He was a sturdily built young man. The sweater, moving from his body, revealed a good pair of shoulders.
A last tug, and the sweater was off. Red hair flashed into view, tousled and disordered; and, as she saw it, Sally uttered an involuntary gasp of astonishment which caused many eyes to turn toward her. And the red-headed young man, who had been stooping to pick up his gloves
Continued on page 54
Mount Stephen, Pioneer, Passes
Continued from page 24
Lacombe, O. M. I., had done yeoman service for the Company in quieting the restless Indians who were then not so civilized as they are today. With the first train from Winnipeg to Calgary was the private car of President Stephen and amongst the occupants were a number of directors and the beloved missionary. At a luncheon one day it was facetiously suggested that in recognition of his invaluable services during the building of the road, the good priest should be elevated to the presidency of the Company. An emergency meeting was hurriedly called, and Father Lacombe was elected president “to succeed George Stephen, resigned”. During that one memorable hour—memorable because it was the first as well as the last time a Roman Catholic or any other priest occupied the presidency of a transcontinental or any other railroad— Mr. President Lacombe installed W. C. Van Home as General Manager, and then gracefully retired, and Mr. Stephen became president again.
Farewell to the C. P. R.
TN HIS farewell letter addressed to the 1 shareholders of the Canadian Pacific Railway, explaining his resignation from the presidency, Sir George Stephen wrote:
“From the time when I became a party to the Dominion Government for the construction of the C.P.R. and consented to accept the position of president of the company, it has always been my intention, to relinquish the active chief control of the affairs of the company as soon as the task I then undertook should be completed. This task was partly finished when the line was opened for traffic through to the Pacific Ocean over two years ago; but at that time so much remained to be done toward the firm establishment of the enterprise, and its future development and success that in deference to the wishes of my colleagues, I consented to continue for a time in office. Warned now by the state of my health, finding that the severe and constant strain which I have had to bear for the past eight years has unfitted me for the continuous and arduous duties of an office in which vigor and activity are essential; feeling the increasing necessity for practical railway experience, and believing that the present satisfactory and assured position of the company offers a favorable opportunity for taking the step I have long had in contemplation, I have this day resigned the presidency of the company which I had the honor to hold since its inauguration. In taking this step it may not be out of place to say that my pecuniary interest in the company remains undiminished and that the welfare of the company is and always must be to me a matter of the deepest possible interest, and as a member of the board of directors, I will always be ready to aid and co-operate with my colleagues in everything calculated to protect and promote the interests of the shareholders.”
Honors Heaped Upon Him
T N 1886 a year later, he was created a •*baronet, and five years afterwards Queen Victoria conferred upon him the title of baron. He assumed the title of Lord Mount Stephen—appropriately after Mount Stephen, one of the monarchs of the Canadian Rockies, which, with its halo, is one of the great outstanding landmarks of that wonderful region of rugged scenic beauty which he and his co-workers opened to the world.
He remained in Montreal, living in a magnificent mansion on Drummond Street where he entertained royally until in 1891. Then he returned to the Old Country, and lived in Brocket Hall in Herts, England, a beautiful historic home, for in it once resided two great British statesmen —Lord Melbourne and Lord Palmerston. Here he, the once barefoot Scotch laddie— entertained royalty and nobility, and his friends, no matter of what station in life, with regal hospitality.
Although in nis valedictory to the shareholders of the Canadian Pacific Railway Company, he gave ill-health as his reason for his retirement, he lived for more than a third of a century thereafter. In his closing years, unlike Lord Strathcona, he abstained from public life and lived quietly and without ostentation. He was what is called “a good mixer,” essentially an unobtruding modest personality, liked a good story and a bracing game of golf, or a day at the salmon pool. But, having
retired from public life he declined, like his old friend Lord Shaughnessy, to be drawn into the political whirl or to be a candidate for any public office. A staunch Conservative, he meddled no longer in politics. He was a loyal Imperialist, and was of the class that helped to make the British Empire what it is. A steadfast Presbyterian, he was a fairy godfather to the Church through his many benefices.
A Fairy God Father
TN FACT Lord Mount Stephen set a •*bright example to the world of capitalists and philanthropists by his innumerable and timely charitable acts. He was the first, so far as I know, to distribute his world’s goods to his relatives when perhaps the gifts were more appreciated than they would have been in later years. None of his blood in Montreal, Winnipeg and other places was neglected, and his bounty was unrestrictedandalmost boundless. More than thirty years ago he exe-
cuted a trust deed by which a princely sum was distributed amongst his relatives in Canada. According to himself, this gave him greater pleasure to allow his kindred to spend the money while youth was theirs to enjoy it and while he was still in the flesh than to bequeath it to them in his will and keep them waiting. Prior to this he had made a number of generous settlements on his nephews and nieces and other family connections upon their marriage, these ranging up to very large
He never forgot his native village, and Dufftown was ever the recipient of his generous benefactions. He erected a cottage hospital, and provided pensions for the poor in surrounding parishes. He gratefully remembered the man who first employed him—the minister of the Presbyterian Church at Mortlach—and he invested $200,000 to ensure all the Speyside ministers an annual income of at least $500.
In the Jubilee Year, he and Lord Strathcona gave a round million of dollars to build the P.oyal Victoria Hospital in Montreal—one of the model institutions of its kind in the world. But to tell a tithe of his benefactions would be beyond the space that could be spared, and least of all would Lord Mount Stephen care to see publicity given to his good works. He was one of the kind that never let his left hand know what his right hand did.
It is an old saying that there are those who are loved most by those who know them best. At any rate, the casual acquaintance who merely knows Mr. Some-
body-or-other may have a poor opinion of him, whereas if he becomes intimate with him, he would find that his good-fornothing acquaintance was really possessed of many excellent qualities both of head and heart. That is why I am quoting Lord Shaughnessy, between whom and Lord Mount Stephen, through the dark days of the C. P. R., and the bright ones, there existed a great personal friendship which deepened as the years rolled on. Lord Shaughnessy’s association with Lord Mount Stephen dates back nearly forty years. From the first few years of the 80’s until Lord Mount Stephen’sretirement they were close business and personal friends, and their very personal relations'continued till death called the first president to another world.
In Lord Shaughnessy’s estimation, Lord Mount Stephen was a man with rare imagination and great initiative coupled with high courage and probity. In 1884 and 1885 when the Dominion Government, after the first loan had been given, was
indisposed to provide any further financial aid to the Canadian Pacific, it was Lord Mount Stephen and Lord Strathcona who furnished the necessary funds from their own private fortunes at a considerable sacrifice, because they had to sell or pledge other securities to raise the money. The Government eventually did advance the money which enabled the Company to carry on until President Stephen was in a position to sell the Company’s first mortgage bonds through Baring Brothers—and then the whole debt to the Government was immediately paid. George Stephen kept his word to the Government - and that debt was the first draft on the Company’s funds.
In those early construction days, according to Lord Shaughnessy, Mr. Stephen had many an anxious hour, and it was only by the placing of his and Lord Strathcona’s personal fortunes in jeopardy that the threatened financial disaster was averted.
“To Lord Mount Stephen beyond all others,” says Lord Shaughnessy “may be attributed the successful completion of the Canadian Pacific and in view of the part that he played in the first and most important enterprise connected with Canada’s progress the name of Lord Mount Stephen will always be cherished by Canadians and indeed, throughout the entire world.”
President Beatty’s Glowing Tribute
A SPLENDID tribute to the first presi^ dent is paid by the fourth president of the C.P.R., E. W. Beatty, K.C., in the
following glowing words:
“When Lord Mount Stephen died, theCompany, in the inception of which he had played such a prominent part, had reached its forty-first year. During thirtyseven of those years its destinies had been presided over by himself, Sir William Van Horne and Lord Shaughnessy, both the latter being his own nominees for the office of president during the period between his retirement and 1918. It was fortunate that Lord Mount Stephen himself and each of his successors possessed in a remarkable degree the personal and official qualifiée which seemed most necessary to the par ticular phase of the Company’s development which took place during their term of office.
“He himself was an outstanding exam pie of the value of his great qualities of mind and breadth of vision, without which the Canadian Pacific would have either failed or found its growth stunted. It isfair to say that Lord Mount Stephen pos sessed a rare combination of shrewdness caution, courage and faith which was sc essential to the Company’s success and the progress of a very young country, such as Canada was in 1881. He was fortunate in that he lived to such an advanced age to see the corporation for which he had done so much not only reach its full strength, but be able to pass through the period of the War and to render national services during that period which, I think, were unequalled by any other trans portation company in the world.”
A Happy Eventide of Life
T'HE young Scotchman’s marital life 1 was a happy one. He married in 1853, Charlotte Kane, the daughter of a London neighbour, and after her decease. Gian Tufnell, daughter of the late Commander Robert George Tufnell of the Royal Navy, A Lady of Grace of the Order of Saini John of Jerusalem in England. In neither case was there any issue; but previous tc his second marriage he made a generous settlement upon his adopted daughter Lady Northcote, wife of the late Lord Northcote, a son of the first Earl of Iddles leigh. It is an open secret that Lady Mount Stephen, the gracious and charming mis tress of Brocket Hall, has always been very much in favor with the Royal family She was lady-in-waiting to the late Duch ess of Teek, and the Teck family always have looked on her as an old and valued friend. Lord and Lady Mount Stephen were honoured at Brocket Hall with personal visits from royalty, including QueeD Victoria and King Edward. King George and Queen Mary were frequently entertained at Brocket Hall while they were Prince and Princess of Wales and the same gracious relations were maintained after the royal couple came to the throne.
And a Peaceful Ending
WHILE not prominent in any way.
except in his social duties, in his declining days, his passing away leaves a great blank that will not easily be filled He was a man of untiring energy whc worked unceasingly and, with the proverbial thrift of his race, saved his earnings. He was not a mere money grubber, and wealth did not harden his big, generous heart. His memory will long be cherished, not only by the many whom he has benefited—countless hundreds of suffering humanity whose ills his benefactions have lessened and whose burdens have been lightened—but by all who knew his great kindness of heart, his deep sympathy for the suffering and his Godgiven concern and desire to help others with the wealth which he had earned by a life of hard and indefatigable labour.
The ending was a peaceful one. He passed away quietly sleeping without pain or care, from sheer old age, for he was in his ninety-second year. He died at the same age as his honored father and on exactly the same day of the year.
Standing in the general waiting room of the Windsor Street Station the other day. a country man, gazing admiringly up at the huge laurel-crowned statue of Lord Mount Stephen, exclaimed:
“Oh, but that’s a big man!”
He was evidently referring to his stature, but unconsciously told the great truth, for Lord Mount Stephen was one of the biggest men the nineteenth century produced.