Known as the ‘Railway King’, George Hudson was the first of the great railway barons, who, according to one contemporary, ‘became rich by keeping everything but his accounts’.
In 1833 Hudson subscribed for 500 shares in a proposed railway joining York to the Leeds to Selby line, became chairman of the subsequent York and North Midland railway company when it obtained an act of Parliament in 1837, and thereafter pursued an aggressive strategy of amalgamating existing railway companies with the intention of creating a monopoly.
Although Hudson was keen to offer for his home constituency of Whitby, he was persuaded by local Conservatives to come forward for a vacancy at Sunderland in 1845, and after a bitter contest, topped the poll.
A frequent speaker with a ‘bluff Yorkshire voice’, Hudson habitually wore a white waistcoat in the Commons, and was mocked by Daniel O’Connell for looking like ‘a turbot ... sitting on its tail with its belly outwards’.
Hudson’s distaste for state intervention was also evident in his opposition to the Russell ministry’s health of towns bill, claiming that ‘the country was sick of centralization, of commissions, of preliminary inquiries’, 18 June 1847. An arch protectionist, he also made lengthy speeches against repeal of the corn laws, 17 Feb., 3 Mar. and 6 Mar. 1846, against the reduction of tea duties, 10 Feb. 1848, and against the repeal of navigation laws, 2 June 1848. On this issue he generally followed Lord George Bentinck, who invited him to help prepare his unsuccessful Irish railway bill, and Disraeli into the division lobbies, although he did not share their support for religious toleration, voting against the Catholic relief bill, 8 Dec. 1847, and the removal of Jewish disabilities, 11 Feb. 1848.
When railway mania began to subside at the end of the decade, Hudson lost some of his prestige, and his drinking habits were mocked by Joseph Hume, who noted his ‘nightly habit’ of coming to the Commons ‘flushed, he would not say with champagne’.
Despite his national disgrace, Hudson maintained his status as a local hero when he triumphantly opened the Sunderland docks in 1850.
By the time of the 1859 general election, the Sunderland dock company was beginning to fail, and Hudson was not surprisingly defeated. Declining the opportunity to contest his native town of Whitby at an 1859 by-election, he retired permanently to France to avoid his creditors.
Following his fall from grace, Hudson had announced in the Commons that ‘I have had a bitter reverse to bear. ... I may perhaps leave to posterity, and may in after life refer with pride and satisfaction to works which I have either projected or prompted’, 8 Feb. 1854. His obituarist in The Times was certainly unequivocal about his achievements, writing that ‘it is impossible to deny that he did great things to develop the railway system in the North of England’,
Mr Hudson found himself everything at once; a large shareholder, a comprehensive projector, a chairman, a trustee for shareholders, an agent for particular transactions, a broker, a contractor, a banker, a confidential friend of landowners, and a good deal more besides. Had he discharged all these functions with perfect fairness, he would have been little less than an angel, and that he certainly is not.
