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2023-11-16 18:53:52.0267710 | 1,608 | 33 | The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Shaving of Shagpat by Meredith, v1
#7 in our series by George Meredith
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Title: The Shaving of Shagpat, v1
Author: George Meredith
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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 1.
FOR THE WEEK ENDING SEPTEMBER 25, 1841.
* * * * *
THE HEIR OF APPLEBITE.
CHAPTER V.
SHOWS THAT "THERE'S MANY A SLIP" BETWEEN OTHER THINGS BESIDE "THE CUP AND
THE LIP."
[Illustration: T]The heir of Applebite continued to squall and thrive, to
the infinite delight of his youthful mamma, who was determined that the
joyful occasion of his cutting his first tooth should be duly celebrated
by an evening party of great splendour; and accordingly cards were issued
to the following effect:--
MR. AND MRS. APPLEBITE
REQUEST THE HONOUR OF
---- ----'s
COMPANY TO AN EVENING PARTY,
On Thursday, the 12th inst.
_Quadrilles_. _An Answer will oblige_.
It was the first home-made party that Collumpsion had ever given; for
though during his bachelorhood he had been no niggard of his hospitality,
yet the confectioner had supplied the edibles, and the upholsterer
arranged the decorations; but now Mrs. Applebite, with a laudable spirit
of economy, converted No. 24, Pleasant-terrace, into a perfect _cuisine_
for a week preceding the eventful evening; and old John was kept in a
constant state of excitement by Mrs. Waddledot, who superintended the
ornamental department of these elaborate preparations.
Agamemnon felt that he was a cipher in the house, for no one condescended
to notice him for three whole days, and it was with extreme difficulty
that he could procure the means of "recruiting exhausted nature" at those
particular hours which had hitherto been devoted to the necessary
operation.
On the morning of the 12th, Agamemnon was anxiously engaged in
endeavouring to acquire a knowledge of the last alterations in the figure
of _La Pastorale_, when he fancied he heard an unusual commotion in the
lower apartments of his establishment. In a few moments his name was
vociferously pronounced by Mrs. Applebite, and the affrighted Collumpsion
rushed down stairs, expecting to find himself another Thyestes, whose
children, it is recorded, were made into a pie for his own consumption.
On entering the kitchen he perceived the cause of the uproar, although he
could see nothing else, for the dense suffocating vapour with which the
room was filled.
"Oh dear!" said Mrs. Applebite, "the chimney's on fire; one pound of fresh
butter--"
"And two pound o'lard's done it!" exclaimed Susan.
"What's to be done?" inquired Collumpsion.
"Send for my brother, sir," said Betty.
"Where does he live?" cried old John.
"On No. 746," replied Betty.
"Where's that?" cried the whole assembled party.
"I don't know, but it's a hackney-coach as he drives," said Betty.
A general chorus of "Pshaw!" greeted this very unsatisfactory rejoinder.
Another rush of smoke into the kitchen rendered some more active measures
necessary, and, after a short discussion, it was decided that John and
Betty should proceed to the roof of the house with two pailsful of water,
whilst Agamemnon remained below to watch the effects of the measure. When
John and Betty arrived at the chimney-pots, the pother was so confusing,
that they were undecided which was the rebellious flue! but, in order to
render assurance doubly sure, they each selected the one they conceived to
be the delinquent, and discharged the contents of their buckets
accordingly, without any apparent diminution of the intestine war which
was raging in the chimney. A fresh supply from a cistern on the roof,
similarly applied, produced no better effects, and Agamemnon, in an agony
of doubt, rushed up-stairs to ascertain the cause of non-abatement.
Accidentally popping his head into the drawing-room, what was his horror
at beholding the beautiful Brussels carpet, so lately "redolent of
brilliant hues," one sheet of inky liquid, into which Mrs. Waddledot (who
had followed him) instantly swooned. Agamemnon, in his alarm, never
thought of his wife's mother, but had rushed half-way up the next flight
of stairs, when a violent knocking arrested his ascent, and, with the fear
of the whole fire-brigade before his eyes, he re-rushed to open the door,
the knocker of which kept up an incessant clamour both in and out of the
house. The first person that met his view was a footman, 25, dyed with the
same sooty evidence of John and Betty's exertions, as he had encountered
on entering his own drawing-room. The dreadful fact flashed upon
Collumpsion's mind, and long before the winded and saturated servant could
detail the horrors he had witnessed in "his missuses best bed-room, in No.
25," the bewildered proprietor of No. 24 was franticly shaking his
innocently offending menials on the leads of his own establishment. Then
came a confused noise of little voices in the street, shouting and
hurraing in the fulness of that delight which we regret to say is too
frequently felt by the world at large at the misfortunes of one in
particular. Then came the sullen rumble of the parish engine, followed by
violent assaults on the bell and knocker, then another huzza! welcoming
the extraction of the fire-plug, and the sparkling fountain of "New
River," which followed as a providential consequence. Collumpsion again
descended, as John had at last discovered the right chimney, and having
inundated the stewpans and the kitchen, had succeeded in extinguishing the
sooty cause of all these disasters. The mob had, by this time, increased
to an alarming extent. Policemen were busily employed in making a ring for
the exhibition of the water-works--little boys were pushing each other
into the flowing gutters--small girls, with astonished infants in their
arms, | 2,208.046817 |
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[Illustration]
PERCY.
A TRAGEDY,
IN FIVE ACTS.
BY MRS. HANNAH MORE.
CORRECTLY GIVEN,
AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRES ROYAL.
[Illustration]
London:
PRINTED BY AND FOR D. S. MAURICE,
_Fenchurch Street;_
SOLD BY
T. HUGHES, 35, LUDGATE STREET; J. BYSH, 52, PATERNOSTER ROW;
J. CUMMING, DUBLIN; J. SUTHERLAND, EDINBURGH; &c. &c.
REMARKS.
This tragedy, in which Mrs. Hannah More is supposed to have been
assisted by Garrick, was produced at Covent Garden Theatre, in 1778,
with success; and revived, in 1818, at the same Theatre.
The feuds of the rival houses of Percy and of Douglas have furnished
materials for this melancholy tale, in which Mrs. More[1] has embodied
many judicious sentiments and excellent passages, producing a forcible
lesson to parental tyranny. The | 2,208.356987 |
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MANNERS:
A NOVEL.
----Dicas hic forsitan unde
Ingenium par materiae.
JUVENAL.
Je sais qu'un sot trouve toujours un plus sot pour le lire.
FRED. LE GRAND.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY,
PATERNOSTER ROW.
1817.
MANNERS.
CHAPTER I.
----Whose birth beyond all question springs
From great and glorious, though forgotten, kings.
oeCHURCHILL.oe
The lady who did the honours of Mr. O'Sullivan's house to our English
travellers, on the night of their arrival at Ballinamoyle, Miss
Fitzcarril by name, was in person extremely tall; and a carriage of
extraordinary uprightness gave her, with a stiffness, a dignity also of
appearance. Her face, though good natured in expression, was, at that
period, rather plain; but yet sufficient evidence remained to
corroborate her own frequent assertion, that "she had once been a fine
woman;" in making which she flattered herself her auditors would imply,
that she took the same license which the structure of a venerable
language sometimes permits, of understanding, at pleasure, different
tenses by the same word; and that they would from the past infer the
present. In dress and manner she was old fashioned, but stately,
generally wearing garments made of the antique tabinets and satins she
inherited from her grandmother, and which, from the unbending nature of
the material, would have stood alone, nearly in as erect a posture as
that they maintained when encompassing her perpendicular figure; a
double clear starched handkerchief, which Mr. Desmond wickedly called
her transparency, enveloped her neck; and the costume of her person was
completed by a fine muslin apron of curious work, derived from her own,
or her progenitors' industry. Her headdress was the only part of her
attire which was ever varied, and in this she was fantastic in the
extreme, composing it of the most showy materials, and wearing in her
caps and turbans colours only fit for the young and beautiful. Every
acquaintance who visited Galway, Limerick, or Clare, was sure to have a
commission to buy a cap or bonnet for Miss Fitzcarril; and the more
_outre_ in form and colour, the better pleased she was with their
purchase. She was, in mind, the most singular mixture of pride and
parsimony that was perhaps ever compounded; the one she derived from her
highly valued ancestry, the other from her own peculiar fate, and a
mistaken idea of principle; and she reconciled her frugality and her
dignity, by declaring that "the Fitzcarrils and O'Sullivans needn't
trouble their heads about what any one said of them; _every body_ knew
they were come of the kings of Connaught, and had a good right to do as
they pleased." In early life she had lived in extreme poverty, and then
had learned the ideas of management she afterwards laboured to enforce
at Ballinamoyle. Mr. O'Sullivan had been deprived of his wife a few
years before he had also the misfortune to lose his only child; and on
the death of this beloved daughter, he chose Theresa Fitzcarril from
amongst his female relatives, to superintend his establishment, at the
same time settling a comfortable provision on her, in case she should
survive himself; which he considered a mere act of justice, for he
foresaw that the retirement of his residence would condemn her to a life
of solitude and celibacy, the two precise circumstances which least
accorded with her own wishes. Theresa, on her part, actuated by an
excess of pride, resolved she would cancel her pecuniary obligations,
not only to her original benefactor, but to his heir, by saving for the
family a sum more than equivalent to all she should ever receive from
it. She therefore endeavoured (though without much success) to introduce
a system of penury at Ballinamoyle, that, had its owner been aware of
her proceedings, he would not have suffered, as it was diametrically
opposite to his wishes; he seldom however inquired into the _minutiae_
of his household; and indifferent to every thing, after the loss of his
daughter, he permitted Theresa to do nearly as she pleased; and when he
did object to any of her practices, she was so obstinate, that he found
he must, to get rid of them, get rid of herself also with them, and this
he never could resolve on; but consoled himself with the usual
reflection of his countrymen, when trouble is necessary to avoid any
thing unpleasant, "It will do well enough, my time won't be long." Miss
Fitzcarril sought to relieve the monotony of her life by indulging in
constant speculation. In every lottery she had a sixteenth share of a
ticket; and to ascertain what she might possess in the _matrimonial
lottery_, had frequent and protracted conferences with all the tribes of
cup-tossers, card-cutters, and deaf and dumb men and women, who infested
the country as fortune-tellers,--"Who blind could every thing
foresee"--"Who dumb could every thing foretell." This pleasure however
Miss Fitzcarril was | 2,208.361254 |
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by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
MYTHS AND LEGENDS
OF ALASKA
SELECTED AND EDITED BY
KATHARINE BERRY JUDSON
Author of "Myths and Legends of
the Pacific Northwest," and
"Montana, 'The Land of Shining
Mountains'"
ILLUSTRATED
[Illustration]
CHICAGO
A. C. McCLURG & CO.
1911
Copyright
A. C. McCLURG & CO.
1911
Published September, 1911
W. F. Hall Printing Company
Chicago
[Illustration: Tlingit Indians in Dancing Costume]
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST.
Especially of Washington and Oregon.
_With 50 full-page illustrations. Small 4to._
_$1.50 net._
MONTANA: "The Land of Shining Mountains."
_Illustrated. Indexed. Square 8vo._
_75 cents net._
A. C. McCLURG & CO., Publishers
PREFACE
Long ago, even before the days of the animal people, the world was
only a great ocean wherein was no land nor any living thing except a
great Bird. The Bird, after a long, long time, flew down to the
surface of the water and dipped his great black wings into the flood.
The earth arose out of the waters. So began the creation. While the
land was still soft, the first man burst from the pod of the beach pea
and looked out upon the endless plain behind him and the gray salt sea
before him. He was the only man. Then Raven appeared to him and the
creation of other beings began. Raven made also animals for food and
clothing. Later, because the earth plain was so bare, he planted trees
and shrubs and grass and set the green things to growing.
With creation by a Great Spirit, there came dangers from evil spirits.
Such spirits carried away the sun and moon, and hung them to the
rafters of the dome-shaped Alaskan huts. The world became cold and
cheerless, and in the Land of Darkness white skins became blackened by
contact with the darkness. So it became necessary to search for the
sun and hang it again in the dome-shaped sky above them. Darkness in
the Land of Long Night was the cause, through magic, of the bitter
winds of winter--winds which came down from the North, bringing with
them ice and cold and snow. This was the work of some Great Spirit
which had loosened the side of the gray cloud-tent under which they
lived, letting in the bitter winds of another world. Spirits blow the
mists over the cold north sea so that canoes lose sight of their
home-land. Spirits also drive the ice floes, with their fishermen, far
over the horizon of ocean, into the still colder North. Spirits govern
the run of the salmon, the catching of whales, and all the life of the
people of the North who wage such a terrific struggle for existence.
So there must needs be those who have power over the evil spirits,
those who by incantations and charms of magic, by ceremonial dancing
in symbolic dress, can control the designs of those who work ever
against these children of the North. Thus there arose the shamans with
all their ceremonies.
The myths in this volume are authentic. The original collections were
made by government ethnologists, by whose permission this compilation
is made. And no effort has been made, in the telling of them, to
change them from the terse directness of the natives. The language of
all Indian tribes is very simple, and to the extent that an effort is
made to put myths and legends into more polished form, to that extent
is their authenticity impaired.
Only the quaintest and purest of the myths have been selected. Many
Alaskan myths are very long and tiresome, rambling from one subject to
another, besides revealing low moral conditions. These have been
omitted, as have also those which deal with the intermarriage of men
and birds, and men and animals. Such myths are better left among
government documents where they can be readily consulted by those
making a special study of the subject. They are hardly suitable for
any collection intended for general reading. The leading myth of the
North, however, the Raven Myth, is given with a fair degree of
completeness. It would not be possible, nor would it be wise, to
attempt a compilation of all the fragments of this extensive myth.
Especial thanks are due to Dr. Franz Boas for the Tsetsaut and
Tsimshian myths, to John R. Swanton for the Tlingit myths, to Edward
Russell Nelson for the Eskimo myths, to Ferdinand Schnitter, and to
others. Thanks are also due for courtesies in securing photographs to
Mr. B. B. Dobbs and particularly to Mr. Clarence L. Andrews, both of
whom have spent many years in Alaska.
K. B. J.
_University of Washington,
Seattle, Washington
July, 1911._
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PAGE
The Raven Myth _Eskimo_ (_Bering Straits_) 17
The Flood _Tlingit_ (_Wrangell_) 33
The Origin of the Tides _Tsetsaut_ 37
How the Rivers were Formed _Tlingit_ (_Wrangell_) 39
The Origin of | 2,208.648548 |
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book was produced from scanned images of public domain
material from the Google Print project.)
NORTHMEN IN AMERICA.
985-1015.
THE
DISCOVERY OF AMERICA
BY THE
NORTHMEN.
985-1015.
A DISCOURSE DELIVERED BEFORE THE NEW
HAMPSHIRE HISTORICAL SOCIETY,
APRIL 24, 1888.
BY THE REV. EDMUND F. SLAFTER, D. D.,
A CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE SOCIETY, HONORARY MEMBER OF THE
ROYAL HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF GREAT BRITAIN, ETC., ETC.
CONCORD, N. H.:
PRIVATELY PRINTED.
1891.
REPRINTED FROM THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE NEW HAMPSHIRE HISTORICAL
SOCIETY.
DISCOURSE.
On the 29th day of October, 1887, a statue erected to the memory of
Leif, the son of Erik, the discoverer of America, was unveiled in the
city of Boston, in the presence of a large assembly of citizens. The
statue is of bronze, a little larger than life-size, and represents the
explorer standing upon the prow of his ship, shading his eyes with his
hand, and gazing towards the west. This monument[1] suggests the subject
to which I wish to call your attention, viz., the story of the discovery
of this continent by the Scandinavians nearly nine hundred years ago.
I must here ask your indulgence for the statement of a few preliminary
historical facts in order that we may have a clear understanding of this
discovery.
About the middle of the ninth century, Harald Haarfager, or the
fair-haired, came to the throne of Norway. He was a young and handsome
prince, endowed with great energy of will and many personal attractions.
It is related that he fell in love with a beautiful princess. His
addresses were, however, coolly rejected with the declaration that when
he became king of Norway in reality, and not merely in name, she would
give him both her heart and her hand. This admonition was not
disregarded by the young king. The thirty-one principalities into which
Norway was at that time divided were in a few years subjugated, and the
petty chieftains or princes who ruled over them became obedient to the
royal authority. The despotic rule, however, of the king was so
irritating and oppressive that many of them sought homes of greater
freedom in the inhospitable islands of the northern seas. Among the
rest, Iceland, having been discovered a short time before, was colonized
by them. This event occurred about the year 874. Notwithstanding the
severity of the climate and the sterility of the soil, the colony
rapidly increased in numbers and wealth, and an active commerce sprung
up with the mother country, and was successfully maintained. At the end
of a century, they had pushed their explorations still farther, and
Greenland was discovered, and a colony was planted there, which
continued to flourish for a long period.
About the year 985, a young, enterprising, and prosperous navigator, who
had been accustomed to carry on a trade between Iceland and Norway, on
returning from the latter in the summer of the year, found that his
father had left Iceland some time before his arrival, to join a new
colony which had been then recently planted in Greenland. This young
merchant, who bore the name of Bjarni, disappointed at not finding his
father in Iceland, determined to proceed on and pass the coming winter
with him at the new colony in Greenland. Having obtained what
information he could as to the geographical position of Greenland, this
intrepid navigator accordingly set sail in his little barque, with a
small number of men, in an unknown and untried sea, guided in his course
only by the sun, moon, and other heavenly bodies.[2] After sailing three
days they entirely lost sight of land. A north wind sprung up,
accompanied with a dense fog, which utterly shrouded the heavens from
their view, and left them at the mercy of the winds and the waves. Thus
helpless, they were borne along for many days in an open and trackless
ocean, they knew not whither. At length the fog cleared away, the blue
sky appeared, and soon after they came in sight of land. On approaching
near to it, they observed that it had a low, undulating surface, was
without mountains, and was thickly covered with wood. It was obviously
not the Greenland for which they were searching. Bearing away and
leaving the land on the west, after sailing two days, they again came in
sight of land. This was likewise flat and well wooded, but could not be
Greenland, as that had been described to them as having very high
snow-capped hills. Turning their prow from the land and launching out
into the open sea, after a sail of three days, they came in sight of
another country having a flat, rocky foreground, and mountains beyond
with ice-clad summits. This was unlike Greenland as it had been
described to them. They did not even lower their sails. They, however,
subsequently found it | 2,208.745505 |
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[Illustration: Cover: Under the Red Crescent 1877-78]
UNDER THE RED CRESCENT.
[Illustration: Charles Ryan Walker & Boutall, Ph. Sc.]
UNDER THE RED CRESCENT:
ADVENTURES OF AN ENGLISH SURGEON
WITH THE TURKISH ARMY AT
PLEVNA AND ERZEROUM,
1877-1878.
RELATED BY
CHARLES S. RYAN, M.B., C.M. EDIN.,
IN ASSOCIATION WITH HIS FRIEND
JOHN SANDES, B. A. OXON.
WITH PORTRAIT AND MAPS.
NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS,
153-157, FIFTH AVENUE.
1897.
DEDICATION.
THIS RECORD
OF
THE STIRRING ADVENTURES OF MY EARLY YEARS
I DEDICATE TO MY SON
RUPERT.
C. S. R.
PREFACE.
In submitting to the popular verdict this book, which aims at being a
plain, straightforward account of the experiences of a young Australian
in the last great battles which have been fought in Europe, I feel that
a few words of explanation are necessary.
In the first place, it may be asked why I have allowed twenty years to
elapse before giving these reminiscences to the world. I must answer
that, as a hard-working surgeon leading a very busy life, I had but
little "learned leisure" at my disposal; and I must also admit that I
did not feel myself equal to the literary labour of writing a book.
Indeed it might never have been written if my friend Mr. Sandes had not
agreed to my suggestion that he should reproduce in a literary and
publishable form the language of the armchair and the fireside, and so
enable me to relate to the world at large some of the incidents which my
own immediate friends, when listening over the cigars to my
recollections, have been good enough to call interesting. So much for
the matter of the book, and also for its manner.
In the second place, military critics as well as the general public may
be inclined to wonder how it was that a young army surgeon, a mere lad
in fact, should have been allowed to play such an independent part in
the field operations at Plevna as is disclosed in the following pages,
and should have been permitted to move about the battle-field and engage
in active service, with the apparent concurrence of the general staff
and of the officers commanding the different regiments. In reply, I have
to explain that the Ottoman army was not guided by the hard-and-fast
regulations which no doubt would render it impossible for a junior
surgeon in any other European army to act on his own volition and carry
on his work as he might think best himself. Furthermore, I may mention
that through my close friendship with Prince Czetwertinski, who was the
captain of Osman Pasha's bodyguard, I was always kept in touch with the
progress of the military operations; and I am also proud to say that I
enjoyed the confidence of Osman Pasha himself, and was on terms of the
closest intimacy with that gallant and true-hearted soldier Tewfik Bey,
who won the rank of pasha for his magnificent courage when he led the
assault that drove Skobeleff from the Krishin redoubts.
These facts may explain many of the adventures narrated in this book
which would be inexplicable to critics accustomed to the rigid
discipline under which medical officers do their work in other European
armies.
It is only right to say, in conclusion, that I consider myself
singularly fortunate in my coadjutor, who, while he has brightened this
narrative of my early adventures with all the resources of the practised
writer, has nevertheless left the truth of every single incident
absolutely unimpaired. At a time when the Eastern Question looms like a
huge shadow over Europe, and when the very existence of the Turkish
Empire is once more threatened, may I hope that this story of the
military virtues of the Ottoman troops may not be found without real
interest?
CHARLES S. RYAN.
Melbourne, _July_, 1897.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. PAGE
FROM MELBOURNE TO SOFIA.
Autobiographical--My Wanderjahr--First Glimpse of
Servians--Rome--A Prospective Mother-in-law--Sad Result of
eating Chops--A Spanish Poet--The Chance of a Lifetime--How I
seized it--Garcia's Gold Watch--The Via del Poppo--Off to
London--Engaged by the Turkish Government--Vienna
revisited--Stamboul--Origin of the Crescent--Misserie's
Hotel--The Turkish Character--A Splendid Belvedere--View from
the Seraskierat Tower--Scutari and Florence
Nightingale--Stamboul by Day and Night--Scene in a
Bazaar--Three Sundays a Week--A Trip to Sweet Waters--Veiled
Beauties--I am gazetted to a Regiment--An Official Dinner--Off
to the Front--A Compulsory Shave--My Charger--The March to
Sofia--My First Patient--Prescription for a Malingerer--Mehemet
Ali--My Soldier Servant--Diagnosing my Cases--Bulgarians at
Home--At Sofia--MacGahan the War Correspondent--Learning
Turkish--A Dinner in Camp--Leniency to Bulgarians--A Lady
Patient--So near and yet | 2,209.047744 |
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Text File produced by Ronald J. Goodden in memory of Royal G. Goodden
THE STORY OF THE MALAKAND FIELD FORCE
AN EPISODE OF FRONTIER WAR
By Sir Winston S. Churchill
"They (Frontier Wars) are but the surf that marks the edge
and the advance of the wave of civilisation."
LORD SALISBURY, Guildhall, 1892
CONTENTS
Preface
Chapter I: The Theatre of War
Chapter II: The Malakand Camps
Chapter III: The Outbreak
Chapter IV: The Attack on the Malakand
Chapter V: The Relief of Chakdara
Chapter VI: The Defence of Chakdara
Chapter VII: The Gate of Swat
Chapter VIII: The Advance Against the Mohmands
Chapter IX: Reconnaissance
Chapter X: The March to Nawagai
Chapter XI: The Action of the Mamund Valley, 16th September
Chapter XII: At Inayat Kila
Chapter XIII: Nawagai
Chapter XIV: Back to the Mamund Valley
Chapter XV: The Work of the Cavalry
Chapter XVI: Submission
Chapter XVII: Military Observations
Chapter XVIII: The Riddle of the Frontier
Appendix
THIS BOOK
IS INSCRIBED TO
MAJOR-GENERAL SIR BINDON BLOOD, K.C.B.
UNDER WHOSE COMMAND THE OPERATIONS THEREIN
RECORDED WERE CARRIED OUT; BY WHOSE GENERALSHIP
THEY WERE BROUGHT TO A SUCCESSFUL CONCLUSION;
AND TO WHOSE KINDNESS THE AUTHOR IS INDEBTED
FOR THE MOST VALUABLE AND FASCINATING EXPERIENCE
OF HIS LIFE.
PREFACE
"According to the fair play of the world,
Let me have an audience."
"King John," Act v., Sc. 2.
On general grounds I deprecate prefaces. I have always thought that if
an author cannot make friends with the reader, and explain his objects,
in two or three hundred pages, he is not likely to do so in fifty lines.
And yet the temptation of speaking a few words behind the scenes, as it
were, is so strong that few writers are able to resist it. I shall not
try.
While I was attached to the Malakand Field Force I wrote a series of
letters for the London Daily Telegraph. The favourable manner in which
these letters were received, encouraged me to attempt a more substantial
work. This volume is the result.
The original letters have been broken up, and I have freely availed
myself of all passages, phrases, and facts, that seemed appropriate. The
views they contained have not been altered, though several opinions and
expressions, which seemed mild in the invigorating atmosphere of a camp,
have been modified, to suit the more temperate climate of peace.
I have to thank many gallant officers for the assistance they have given
me in the collection of material. They have all asked me not to mention
their names, but to accede to this request would be to rob the story of
the Malakand Field Force of all its bravest deeds and finest characters.
The book does not pretend to deal with the complications of the frontier
question, nor to present a complete summary of its phases and features.
In the opening chapter I have tried to describe the general character
of the numerous and powerful tribes of the Indian Frontier. In the last
chapter I have attempted to apply the intelligence of a plain man to the
vast mass of expert evidence, which on this subject is so great that it
baffles memory and exhausts patience. The rest is narrative, and in it I
have only desired to show the reader what it looked like.
As I have not been able to describe in the text all the instances of
conduct and courage which occurred, I have included in an appendix the
official despatches.
The impartial critic will at least admit that I have not insulted the
British public by writing a party pamphlet on a great Imperial question.
I have recorded the facts as they occurred, and the impressions as
they arose, without attempting to make a case against any person or any
policy. Indeed, I fear that assailing none, I may have offended all.
Neutrality may degenerate into an ignominious isolation. An honest and
unprejudiced attempt to discern the truth is my sole defence, as the
good opinion of the reader has been throughout my chief aspiration, and
can be in the end my only support.
Winston S. Churchill
Cavalry Barracks,
Bangalore, 30th December, 1897
CHAPTER I: THE THEATRE OF WAR
The Ghilzaie chief wrote answer: "Our paths are narrow and
steep.
The sun burns fierce in the valleys, and the snow-fed streams run
deep;
. . . . . . . . . .
So a stranger needs safe escort, and the oath of a valiant friend."
"The Amir's Message," SIR A. LYALL.
All along the north and north-west frontiers of India lie the Himalayas,
the greatest disturbance of the earth's surface that the convulsions of
chaotic periods have produced. Nearly four hundred miles in breadth and
more than sixteen hundred in length, this mountainous region divides
the great plains of the south from those of Central Asia, and parts as
a channel separates opposing shores, the Eastern Empire of Great Britain
from that of Russia. The western end of this tumult of ground is formed
by the peaks of the Hindu Kush, to the south of which is the scene of
the story these pages contain. The Himalayas are not a line, but a great
country of mountains. By one who stands on some lofty pass or commanding
point in Dir, Swat or Bajaur, range after range is seen as the long
surges of an Atlantic swell, and in the distance some glittering
snow peak suggests a white-crested roller, higher than the rest. The
drenching rains which fall each year have washed the soil from the sides
of the hills until they have become strangely grooved by numberless
water-courses, and the black primeval rock is everywhere exposed. The
silt and sediment have filled the valleys which lie between, and made
their surface sandy, level and broad. Again the rain has cut wide,
deep and constantly-changing channels through this soft deposit; great
gutters, which are sometimes seventy feet deep and two or three hundred
yards across. These are the nullahs. Usually the smaller ones are dry,
and the larger occupied only by streams; but in the season of the rains,
abundant water pours down all, and in a few hours the brook has become
an impassable torrent, and the river swelled into a rolling flood which
caves the banks round which it swirls, and cuts the channel deeper year
by year.
From the level plain of the valleys the hills rise abruptly. Their steep
and rugged <DW72>s are thickly strewn with great rocks, and covered with
coarse, rank grass. Scattered pines grow on the higher ridges. In the
water-courses the chenar, the beautiful eastern variety of the plane
tree of the London squares and Paris boulevards, is occasionally found,
and when found, is, for its pleasant shade, regarded with grateful
respect. Reaching far up the sides of the hills are tiers of narrow
terraces, chiefly the work of long-forgotten peoples, which catch the
soil that the rain brings down, and support crops of barley and maize.
The rice fields along both banks of the stream display a broad, winding
strip of vivid green, which gives the eye its only relief from the
sombre colours of the mountains.
In the spring, indeed, the valleys are brightened by many flowers--wild
tulips, peonies, crocuses and several kinds of polyanthus; and among the
fruits the water melon, some small grapes and mulberries are excellent,
although in their production, nature is unaided by culture. But during
the campaign, which these pages describe, the hot sun of the summer had
burnt up all the flowers, and only a few splendid butterflies, whose
wings of blue and green change colour in the light, like shot silk,
contrasted with the sternness of the landscape.
The valleys are nevertheless by no means barren. The soil is fertile,
the rains plentiful, and a considerable proportion of ground is occupied
by cultivation, and amply supplies the wants of the inhabitants.
The streams | 2,209.145847 |
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produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
+-------------------------------------------------+
|Transcriber's note: |
| |
|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. |
| |
+-------------------------------------------------+
THE LOST DISPATCH.
GALESBURG, ILL.:
GALESBURG PRINTING AND PUBLISHING COMPANY.
1889.
COPYRIGHTED 1889,
BY GALESBURG PRINTING AND PUBLISHING COMPANY.
All rights reserved.
PREFACE.
In adding this account of the finding of the "Lost Dispatch" to the war
literature of our country, I do so without further preamble or preface
than to say that all persons connected with this narrative appear on the
following pages under strictly fictitious names.
For purely personal reasons, reasons that seem to me right and proper, I
still desire to remain unknown. There are not more than twenty-five
persons now living, who, on reading this account, will be able to
recognize the writer. These I place on their honor not to reveal their
knowledge.
THE AUTHOR.
THE LOST DISPATCH.
_AN INCIDENT OF THE LATE WAR._
CHAPTER I.
The Union army lay impatiently waiting until the plans of the leader of
the Rebel troops could be fathomed. His designs were shrouded in so much
mystery that the anxious watchers could not determine whether the
invasion of Maryland was only a feint to draw off the Union troops from
the points they were protecting, or whether he really aimed to attack
the Northern cities.
It seemed absolutely impossible to obtain authentic information. The
stories brought in by the stragglers and prisoners were wild and
improbable in the extreme. To have believed them would have been to have
believed that the enemy had the power of marching in a dozen different
directions at one and the same time, for each story gave the enemy a
different starting point, and a different aim and purpose to their
movements.
Of the scouts who had been sent out to all points, many had been taken
prisoner, or had met a speedy death. In spite of their untiring and
daring efforts to obtain reliable information, the reports brought back
by the few who did return were so unsatisfactory and contradictory that
no dependence could be placed in them, for seemingly none of the
soldiers and few, if any, of the officers of the invading army knew
where they were going or for what.
At the headquarters of General Foster, which that first week of
September, '62, were located in an open meadow, half a dozen officers
were gathered in a low-voiced consultation. Their faces were grave and
marked with lines of anxious thought, as they poured over maps and
compared conflicting dispatches. A young officer, Captain Guilfoyle, who
sat writing at a table made up of rough boards, joined in the
conversation only when questioned by his superior officers, regarding
some point in the topography of the country, which could not be
determined from the imperfect maps they studied.
An hour later all excepting the young officer had left the tent.
Stopping only to light a candle as it grew too dark to see, he wrote
steadily on until his work was finished and the papers lay folded on the
table. He arranged them ready for inspection, then rose and walked back
and forth across the narrow limits of the tent to stretch his tired
muscles. At last, with an impatient sigh, he seated himself again and
after waiting a moment drew from his pocket a long narrow book. It fell
apart, as if accustomed to being opened at one particular page, and the
light from the candle shone over a thick, long curl of fair hair, which
might have been cut from the head bending over it, so exactly the same
was the color. At the sound of approaching footsteps and voices outside
the tent he hastily returned the book to his pocket.
Some one was asking for General Foster. The next moment a man dressed
like a teamster entered. His clothes were ragged and dirty. One arm was
wrapped around with a piece of blood stained cloth and hung limp and
useless at his side. His face was pale under the wide brim of his torn
hat, and the blood had trickled down one side from a fresh wound in his
forehead, making a wide mark along his cheek. The man showed his utter
exhaustion in every movement, and staggered from side to side as he went
across the tent and dropped half fainting onto a stool.
Captain Guilfoyle took a flask from off the bed and held it to the
man's lips, eyeing him closely, until recovering somewhat, he
straightened up and removed the hat which partly shaded his face. As he
did so the Captain recognized him as one of the scouts whose return they
were anxiously hoping would bring them the sorely needed intelligence
and whose report General Foster had ordered him to receive if he got in
during his absence.
"Yes, I'm here at last," replied the man to Captain Guilfoyle's hurried
interrogation, "and I've nothing to report but a total lack of success."
"I left poor Dedrick and Allison over there, and barely succeeded in
getting back myself. You know what they were,--the best scouts in the
whole army. We did all men could do, but luck was against us. We have
learned nothing except that the enemy are across the Potomac, something
any straggler can tell. I have been four days getting back," said the
new comer, going on to give a full account of what he and his
companions had tried to do. "I tell you," he added wearily, "I doubt if
any one can find out what they mean to do until they do it, | 2,209.246689 |
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DES IMAGISTES
------------------------------------------------------------------------
«Καὶ κείνα Σικελά, καὶ ἐν Αἰτναίαισιν ἔπαιζεν
ἀόσι, καὶ μέλος ᾖδε τὸ Δώριον.»
Επιτάφιος Βίωνος
“And she also was of Sikilia and was gay in
the valleys of Ætna, and knew the Doric
singing.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
DES IMAGISTES
AN ANTHOLOGY
NEW YORK
ALBERT AND CHARLES BONI
96 FIFTH AVENUE
1914
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright, 1914
By
Albert and Charles Boni
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
RICHARD ALDINGTON
Choricos 7
To a Greek Marble 10
Au Vieux Jardin 11
Lesbia 12
Beauty Thou Hast Hurt Me Overmuch 13
Argyria 14
In the Via Sestina 15
The River 16
Bromios 17
To Atthis 19
H. D.
Sitalkas 20
Hermes of the Ways I 21
Hermes of the Ways II 22
Priapus 24
Acon 26
Hermonax 28
Epigram 30
F. S. FLINT
I 31
II Hallucination 32
III 33
IV 34
V The Swan 35
SKIPWITH CANNÉLL
Nocturnes 36
AMY LOWELL
In a Garden 38
WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS
Postlude 39
JAMES JOYCE
I Hear an Army 40
EZRA POUND
Δώρια 41
The Return 42
After Ch’u Yuan 43
Liu Ch’e 44
Fan-Piece for Her Imperial Lord 45
Ts’ai Chi’h 46
FORD MADOX HUEFFER
In the Little Old Market-Place 47
ALLEN UPWARD
Scented Leaves from a Chinese Jar 51
JOHN COURNOS after K. TETMAIER
The Rose 54
DOCUMENTS
To Hulme (T. E.) and Fitzgerald 57
Vates, the Social Reformer 59
Fragments Addressed by Clearchus H. to Aldi 62
_Bibliography_ 63
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHORICOS
The ancient songs
Pass deathward mournfully.
Cold lips that sing no more, and withered wreaths,
Regretful eyes, and drooping breasts and wings—
Symbols of ancient songs
Mournfully passing
Down to the great white surges,
Watched of none
Save the frail sea-birds
And the lithe pale girls,
Daughters of Okeanus.
And the songs pass
From the green land
Which lies upon the waves as a leaf
On the flowers of hyacinth;
And they pass from the waters,
The manifold winds and the dim moon,
And they come,
Silently winging through soft Kimmerian dusk,
To the quiet level lands
That she keeps for us all,
That she wrought for us all for sleep
In the silver days of the earth’s dawning—
Proserpina, daughter of Zeus.
And we turn from the Kuprian’s breasts,
And we turn from thee,
Phoibos Apollon,
And we turn from the music of old
And the hills that we loved and the meads,
And we turn from the fiery day,
And the lips that were over sweet;
For silently
Brushing the fields with red-shod feet,
With purple robe
Searing the flowers as with a sudden flame,
Death,
Thou hast come upon us.
And of all the ancient songs
Passing to the swallow-blue halls
By the dark streams of Persephone,
This only remains:
That we turn to thee,
Death,
That we turn to thee, singing
One last song.
O Death,
Thou art an healing wind
That blowest over white flowers
A-tremble with dew;
Thou art a wind flowing
Over dark leagues of lonely sea;
Thou art the dusk and the fragrance;
Thou art the lips of love mournfully smiling;
Thou art the pale peace of one
Satiate with old desires;
Thou art the silence of beauty,
And we look no more for the morning
We yearn no more for the sun,
Since with thy white hands,
Death,
Thou crownest us with the pallid chaplets,
The slim colourless poppies
Which in thy garden alone
Softly thou gatherest.
And silently,
And with slow feet approaching,
And with bowed head and unlit eyes,
We kneel before thee:
And thou, leaning towards us,
Caressingly layest upon us
Flowers from thy thin cold hands,
And, smiling as a chaste woman
Knowing love in her heart,
Thou sealest our eyes
And the illimitable quietude
Comes gently upon us.
RICHARD ALDINGTON
TO A GREEK MARBLE
Πότνια, πότνια
White grave goddess,
Pity my sadness,
O silence of Paros.
I am not of these about thy feet,
These garments and decorum;
I am thy brother,
Thy lover of aforetime crying to thee,
And thou hearest me not.
I have whispered thee in thy solitudes
Of our loves in Phrygia,
The far ecstasy of burning noons
When the fragile pipes
Ceased in the cypress shade,
And the brown fingers of the shepherd
Moved over slim shoulders;
And only the cicada sang.
I have told thee of the hills
And the lisp of reeds
And the sun upon thy breasts,
And thou hearest me not,
Πότνια, πότνια,
Thou hearest me not.
RICHARD ALDINGTON
AU VIEUX JARDIN
I have sat here happy in the gardens,
Watching the still pool and the reeds
And the dark clouds
Which the wind of the upper air
Tore like the green leafy boughs
Of the divers-hued trees of late summer;
But though I greatly delight
In these and the water lilies,
That which sets me nighest to weeping
Is the rose and white colour of the smooth flag-stones,
And the pale yellow grasses
Among them.
RICHARD ALDINGTON
LESBIA
Use no more speech now;
Let the silence spread gold hair above us
Fold on delicate fold;
You had the ivory of my life to carve.
Use no more speech.
. . . .
And Picus of Mirandola is dead;
And all the gods they dreamed and fabled of,
Hermes, and Thoth, and Christ, are rotten now,
Rotten and dank.
. . . .
And through it all I see your pale Greek face;
Tenderness makes me as eager as a little child
To love you
You morsel left half cold on Caesar’s plate.
RICHARD ALDINGTON
BEAUTY THOU HAST HURT ME OVERMUCH
The light is a wound to me.
The soft notes
Feed upon the wound.
Where wert thou born
O thou woe
That consumest my life?
Whither comest thou?
Toothed wind of the seas,
No man knows thy beginning.
As a bird with strong claws
Thou woundest me,
O beautiful sorrow.
RICHARD ALDINGTON
ARGYRIA
O you,
O you most fair,
Swayer of reeds, whisperer
Among the flowering rushes,
You have hidden your hands
Beneath the poplar leaves,
You have given them to the white waters.
Swallow-fleet,
Sea-child cold from waves,
Slight reed that sang so blithely in the wind,
White cloud the white sun kissed into the air;
Pan mourns for you.
White limbs, white song,
Pan mourns for you.
RICHARD ALDINGTON
IN THE VIA SESTINA
O daughter of Isis,
Thou standest beside the wet highway
Of this decayed Rome,
A manifest harlot.
Straight and slim art thou
As a marble phallus;
Thy face is the face of Isis
Carven
As she is carven in basalt.
And my heart stops with awe
At the presence of the gods,
There beside thee on the stall of images
Is the head of Osiris
Thy lord.
RICHARD ALDINGTON
THE RIVER
I
I drifted along the river
Until I moored my boat
By these crossed trunks.
Here the mist moves
Over fragile leaves and rushes,
Colourless waters and brown fading hills.
She has come from beneath the trees,
Moving within the mist,
A floating leaf.
II
O blue flower of the evening,
You have touched my face
With your leaves of silver.
Love me for I must depart.
RICHARD ALDINGTON
BROMIOS
The withered bonds are broken.
The waxed reeds and the double pipe
Clamour about me;
The hot wind swirls
Through the red pine trunks.
Io! the fauns and the satyrs.
The touch of their shagged curled fur
And blunt horns!
They have wine in heavy craters
Painted black and red;
Wine to splash on her white body.
Io!
She shrinks from the cold shower—
Afraid, afraid!
Let the Maenads break through the myrtles
And the boughs of the rohododaphnai.
Let them tear the quick deers’ flesh.
Ah, the cruel, exquisite fingers!
Io!
I have brought you the brown clusters,
The ivy-boughs and pine-cones.
Your breasts are cold sea-ripples,
But they smell of the warm grasses.
Throw wide the chiton and the peplum,
Maidens of the Dew.
Beautiful are your bodies, O Maenads,
Beautiful the sudden folds,
The vanishing curves of the white linen
About you.
Io!
Hear the rich laughter of the forest,
The cymbals,
The trampling of the panisks and the centaurs.
RICHARD ALDINGTON | 2,209.346286 |
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E-text prepared by Joel Erickson, Michael Ciesielski, David Garcia, and
the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
CHRISTIE, THE KING'S SERVANT
A Sequel to 'Christie's Old Organ'
By MRS. O.F. WALTON
AUTHOR OF 'CHRISTIE'S OLD ORGAN'
'A PEEP BEHIND THE SCENES'
'THE KING'S CUPBEARER'
'SHADOWS' ETC ETC
[Illustration]
Contents
CHAPTER
I RUNSWICK BAY
II LITTLE JOHN
III STRANGE MUSIC
IV WHAT ARE YOU?
V THE RUNSWICK SPORTS
VI THE TUG OF WAR
VII OVER THE LINE
VIII A NIGHT OF STORM
IX ASK WHAT YE WILL
X WE KNOW
XI LITTLE JACK AND BIG JACK
XII WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
[Illustration]
Chapter I
RUNSWICK BAY
It was the yellow ragwort that did it! I have discovered the clue at
last. All night long I have been dreaming of Runswick Bay. I have been
climbing the rocks, talking to the fishermen, picking my way over the
masses of slippery seaweed, and breathing the fresh briny air. And all
the morning I have been saying to myself, 'What can have made me dream
of Runswick Bay? What can have brought the events of my short stay in
that quaint little place so vividly before me?' Yes, I am convinced of
it; it was that bunch of yellow ragwort on the mantelpiece in my
bedroom. My little Ella gathered it in the lane behind the house
yesterday morning, and brought it in triumphantly, and seized the best
china vase in the drawing-room, and filled it with water at the tap, and
thrust the great yellow bunch into it.
' | 2,209.471356 |
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[Illustration: _The waterside at Martin's Ferry. Near this spot stood
the little brick house in which Mr. Howells was born._]
YEARS OF MY YOUTH
BY
W. D. HOWELLS
WITH INTRODUCTION AND ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM PHOTOGRAPHS TAKEN EXPRESSLY
FOR THIS BOOK BY CLIFTON JOHNSON
[Illustration]
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
YEARS OF MY YOUTH
Copyright, 1916, 1917, by Harper & Brothers
Printed in the United States of America
Published October, 1917
K-R
ILLUSTRATIONS
THE WATERSIDE AT MARTIN'S FERRY _Frontispiece_
THE OHIO RIVER AT WHEELING, WEST VIRGINIA _Facing p._ 10
HAMILTON, OHIO, THE "BOY'S TOWN" OF MR. HOWELLS'S YOUTH " 16
THE MIAMI CANAL AT HAMILTON " 22
THE NOW ABANDONED CANAL AT DAYTON AS IT APPEARS
ON THE BORDERS OF THE CITY " 40
THE LITTLE MIAMI RIVER AT EUREKA MILLS, TWELVE
MILES EAST OF DAYTON " 44
OVERLOOKING THE ISLAND WHICH THE HOWELLS FAMILY CULTIVATED " 54
THE VICINITY WHERE MR. HOWELLS LIVED HIS "YEAR
IN A LOG CABIN" " 60
ONE OF THE LAST LOG HOUSES TO SURVIVE IN THE VICINITY
OF JEFFERSON " 82
THE FOUR-STORY OFFICE ERECTED BY MR. HOWELLS'S
FATHER " 116
THE OHIO STATE HOUSE AT COLUMBUS VIEWED FROM
HIGH STREET " 138
THE STATE HOUSE YARD ON THE STATE STREET SIDE " 158
OLD-TIME DWELLINGS ON ONE OF THE COLUMBUS
STREETS THAT MR. HOWELLS USED TO FREQUENT " 170
THE MEDICAL COLLEGE AT COLUMBUS " 184
THE QUAINT DOORWAY OF THE MEDICAL COLLEGE
THROUGH WHICH MR. HOWELLS PASSED DAILY
WHILE HE ROOMED IN THE BUILDING " 224
LOOKING INTO THE STATE HOUSE GROUNDS TOWARD THE
BROAD FLIGHT OF STEPS BEFORE THE WEST FRONT
OF THE BUILDING " 236
PREFACE BY THE ILLUSTRATOR
Whenever I visit the region of a famous man's youth I have the feeling
that I ought to discover there some clue to the secret of his greatness;
for I cannot help fancying that the environment must have molded him and
been an essential element in the development of his individuality and
power. It was with such expectations that I recently went to Ohio, just
as spring was verging into summer, to see the land where Mr. Howells
spent the years of which he has made so frank and appealing a record in
this volume. In the middle of the last century the State retained much
of the crude primitiveness of the frontier, and I wondered what stimulus
this could have offered in creating a genius so broad in his views and
so sensitive to impressions, and in whose expression there is such fine
imagination, humor, sympathy, and wisdom.
I began my journey in Mr. Howells's native State where he began his
life's journey eighty years ago, at Martin's Ferry. The place is two
miles up the Ohio River from Wheeling, West Virginia, on the western
bank of the stream. By the water-side are big, ugly factories belching
smoke and steam, and in their vicinity are railroad tracks, cinders, and
other litter, and dingy, ramshackle buildings, among which are numerous
forlorn little dwellings and occasional saloons. A sort of careless
prosperity is in evidence, but not much of the charm of neatness, or
concern for appearances. The rest of the town overspreads the steep
<DW72>s that border the river, and pushes back into the nooks among the
adjacent upheaval of big hills. It is rather chaotic, but improves in
quality the farther it recedes from the smoke and din of the
manufacturing strip along the river.
The small brick Howells house stood close to the stream, where grime and
squalor most abound at present. However, the railroad was not there
then, and Martin's Ferry was a village that had in some respects real
rural attraction.
During the period of about twenty-five years which this book covers the
Howells family lived in seven different places, many of them widely
separated, but all within the confines of Ohio; and they seldom stayed
long in any town without occupying more than one residence. Naturally,
there have been marked changes in the aspect of most of the places where
they dwelt. Perhaps Jefferson has changed least. In the old days it had
six hundred inhabitants. Now it has three or four times that number, but
it is still serenely rustic, and every one knows every one else, and the
wide, tree-shadowed streets and the rich, gently rolling farm country
that environ the town are delightful.
Hamilton, with which Mr. Howells has dealt so graphically in his _A
Boy's Town_, has increased in population from two thousand to
thirty-five thousand; Dayton from eleven thousand to one hundred and
twenty-five thousand, and Columbus from eighteen thousand to nearly a
quarter of a million. Of course, such a strenuous expansion means the
obliteration of landmarks of the past. Besides, some of the places have
been largely rebuilt after being nearly wiped off the map by floods.
On the other hand, the vicinity where Mr. Howells spent his _Year in a
Log Cabin_ is even more lonely than it was then. It had a name in the
long ago--Eureka Mills. But fire, which in our country is an even more
potent destroyer than floods of what men build, has razed the mills, the
dam has crumbled, the mill-race is a dry ditch choked with weeds and
brush, and the name is well-nigh forgotten. When I was there the only
man-dwelling was a vacant house that stood close to the site of the old
log cabin. I might have thought the locality entirely deserted if it had
not been for fences and cultivated fields and two cows grazing in a
pasture. The only person whom I saw on the highway while I loitered
about was a rural mail-carrier jogging along in his cart.
Round about were low, rounded hills, fertile and well-tilled for the
most part, with here and there patches of woodland and occasional snug
groups of farm buildings. It is a land flowing with milk and honey,
wonderfully productive and prosperous, and charming in its luscious
agricultural beauty. In Mr. Howells's youth it was wilder and more
forested, but I fancy that the stream, with its wooded banks, must be
essentially the same, and that the birds flitting and singing and the
other wild creatures of fields and woods are like those of old.
Log houses, once so common in the Ohio country within the memory of its
elderly people, are now rare, and I could learn of none within less than
a dozen miles of Eureka Mills. But I found one on the outskirts of
Jefferson which was intact and serviceable, though it no longer
sheltered a family; and both Jefferson and Dayton have a log cabin
preserved as a relic of the past.
Any place that has been Mr. Howells's home has reason to be proud of the
fact, for he has long been recognized as the foremost of living American
authors, and it seems safe to conclude that much of his work will have a
permanent place in our literature. Yet I got the impression that, as a
rule, the people in those Ohio communities with which he has been
associated are unaware of his existence. Others, however, not only are
familiar with his reputation, but regard him with enthusiasm and
affection. At Columbus Rev. Washington Gladden, the most notable of all
Ohio preachers, has made _Years of My Youth_ the subject of a Sunday
evening discourse; and it is particularly gratifying to find that _A
Boy's Town_ is a favorite book in Hamilton, and that the Boy Scouts
there call themselves the Boy's Town Brigade.
Hamilton, Dayton, and Columbus, in which places Mr. Howells spent so
much of his youth, are all important centers of trade and manufacture
where crowds and noisy traffic are ever present in the business
sections, and where a maze of residence streets spread out into the
country round about. At Hamilton, the only building I could discover
associated with Mr. Howells was the Baptist church where he attended
Sunday-school. But it is now a paint-shop, and the paint-man has adorned
the entire front with a scenic sample of his art, which makes the
structure more suggestive of a theater than a church. The Great Miami
River flows through the town as of old, and the tall buildings, towers,
and spires in the heart of the place are strikingly picturesque seen
from some points of vantage along the banks of the stream. But the most
charming feature of the past is the canal in which the boys used to swim
and fish, and which, doubtless, still serves for the same purposes. It
is no longer a thoroughfare for traffic, though the tow-path is used in
part by trams and pedestrians.
Dayton had its canal, too, but this, like the one at Hamilton, has been
abandoned, except as the mills make use of it.
At Columbus is what was the new State House in Mr. Howells's youth, the
Medical College in which he roomed, and a sprinkling of quiet old
residences that were there in his time. The college, which originally
was a castle-like structure with an upthrust of towers and turrets, has
had its sky-line somewhat straightened by the addition of an extra
story; but this has only marred, without destroying, its characteristic
quaintness.
Jefferson was the home of Mr. Howells's father for the most of his later
life, and of his older brother, Joseph, whom the people there like to
recall for his many fine qualities of head and heart, and as the printer
and editor of the "best weekly paper" ever published in Ashtabula
County.
This brother is referred to again and again in the chapters that follow.
His grave in the Jefferson cemetery has been marked with the
"imposing-stone" that he used in his office. Here is the inscription
written by the novelist and carved on the | 2,209.54562 |
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Addie's Husband;
OR,
THROUGH CLOUDS TO SUNSHINE.
By the author of "LOVE OR LANDS?"
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AFFAIRS OF STATE
Being an Account of Certain Surprising Adventures Which
Befell an American Family in the Land of Windmills
BY
BURTON E. STEVENSON
AUTHOR OF "THE MARATHON MYSTERY," "THE HOLLADAY CASE," ETC.
With Illustrations by F. VAUX WILSON
1906
TO G. H. T.:
OLD FRIEND
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. THE WILES OF WOMANKIND
II. THE ROLE OF GOOD ANGEL
III. DISTINGUISHED ARRIVALS AT WEET-SUR-MER
IV. AN ADVENTURE AND A RESCUE
V. TELLIER TAKES A HAND
VI. THE PATH GROWS CROOKED
VII. AN APPEAL FOR AID
VIII. PRIDE HAS A FALL
IX. PELLETAN'S SKELETON
X. AN INTRODUCTION AND A PROMENADE
XI. THE PRINCE GAINS AN ALLY
XII. EVENTS OF THE NIGHT
XIII. THE SECOND PROMENADE
XIV. A BEARDING OF THE LION
XV. "BE BOLD, BE BOLD"
XVI. A PRINCE AND HIS IDEALS
XVII. THE DUCHESS TO THE RESCUE
XVIII. MAN'S PERFIDY
XIX. AN AMERICAN OPINION OF EUROPEAN MORALS
XX. THE DOWAGER'S BOMBSHELL
XXI. PARDON
ILLUSTRATIONS
"EEF MONSIEUR PLEASE"
"IT WAS MY GREAT GOOD FORTUNE," SAID THE STRANGER, BOWING, "TO BE OF
SERVICE TO A COMPATRIOT"
"OH!" SHE CRIED, WITH A LITTLE START, "THERE HE IS NOW, ALMOST NEAR
ENOUGH TO HEAR!"
"WHAT IS IT?" SHE DEMANDED. "DON'T YOU SEE WE ARE ALL WAITING?"
AFFAIRS OF STATE
CHAPTER I
The Wiles of Womankind
Archibald Rushford, tall, lean, the embodiment of energy, stood at the
window, hands in pockets, and stared disgustedly out at the dreary vista
of sand-dunes and bathing-machines, closed in the distance by a stretch
of gray sea mounting toward a horizon scarcely discernible through the
drifting mist which hung above the water.
"Though why you wanted to come here at all," he continued, presumably
addressing two young ladies in the room behind him, "or why you want to
stay, now you _are_ here, passes my comprehension. One might as well be
buried alive, and be done with it. The sensations, I should imagine,
are about the same."
"Oh, come, dad!" protested one of the girls, laughing, "you know it
isn't so bad as that! There's plenty of life--not just at this hour of
the morning, perhaps,"--with a fleeting glance at the empty
landscape,--"but the hour is unfashionable."
"As everything seasonable and sensible seems to be here," put in her
father, grimly.
"And such interesting life, too," added the other girl.
"Interesting! Bah! When I want to see monkeys and peacocks, I'll go to a
menagerie."
"But you never do go to the menagerie, at home, you know, dad."
"No--because I don't care for monkeys or peacocks--in fact, I
particularly detest them!"
"But lions, dad! There are lions--"
"In the menagerie at home, perhaps."
"Yes, and in this one--bigger lions than you ever dreamed of,
dad!--perfect monsters of lions!"
"Oh, no, there aren't, Susie," dissented Rushford. "You don't know the
species. You've mistaken a bray for a roar, just as a lot of people
always do, if the bray is only loud enough. Come, now, let me know the
worst. How much longer do you propose to stay here?"
"Well, dad, you see the season won't be at its height for fully a month
yet--"
"A month!" echoed Rushford, in dismay. "Well, Susie, you and Nell may be
able to stand it for a month, but long ere that I'll be dead--ossified,
fossilised, dried up, and blown away! Maybe you girls enjoy it, though I
didn't think it of you--but what can _I_ do? I'm tired of reading
day-before-yesterday's newspaper and of being two days behind the
market. Two days! Think what may have happened to steel since I've
heard from it! It's enough to drive a man mad!"
He got out a cigar, lighted it, and stood puffing it nervously, appalled
at the vision his own words had conjured up.
"But, dad," Sue pointed out, coming to his side and taking his arm
coaxingly, "you know it was just to get away from all that worry--from
those horrid stocks and things--that you consented to come with us."
"Don't call the stocks hard names, Susie. Don't go back on your best
friends!" protested Rushford. "Don't forget what they've done for you!"
"But, dear, you remember how strongly Doctor Samuels insisted on your
taking a rest; how necessary he said it was?"
"Oh, perfectly!" responded Rushford, drily. "I've suspected right along
that Samuels took his orders from you."
"From me, dad!" cried Sue, indignantly, but her eyes were shining in a
most suspicious manner. "A man of his standing--"
"It doesn't matter," broke in her father, with a wave of his arm. "I'm
willing to grant, for the sake of argument, that Samuels was perfectly
sincere. But I still protest that there is no reason why we should
conceal ourselves here. We haven't done anything--the police aren't
after us--I can speak for myself, at least."
"This seemed to be such a nice, quiet place for you, dad," explained
Nell, perching herself upon a table near the window and gazing pensively
out at the shimmering water, which told that the sun was winning a
decisive victory over the mist, and that the day would be a fine one.
"For me!" repeated her father, turning and staring at her. "You don't
mean to say you chose this place on _my_ account!"
Nell nodded, but she winked at Susie.
"And then, you know," she added, "we have always wanted to get a glimpse
of a real Dutch watering-place."
"I don't believe this _is_ a real Dutch watering-place. Nobody here
speaks anything but French. Why, it's even got a French name!"
"Only two-thirds French, dad," Sue corrected.
"And everything is priced in francs."
"That is true of all Europe," asserted Nell, with superb aplomb.
"Well, Dutch, French, or Hindoo, you've had your glimpse, haven't you?
Suppose we move on and get a glimpse or two of something worth seeing."
"Oh, but we've seen it all only from the outside! We've been like the
audience at a show--we haven't had any part in it. And it's so much more
interesting behind the scenes!"
"It's dull enough from in front, heaven knows!" agreed Rushford. "If I
had my way, I'd ring down the curtain and close the show up this minute.
It's the worst I ever saw! And I very much doubt if a respectable
American family has any business behind the scenes!"
"You're jaundiced, dad," laughed Sue. "You're looking at the place
through a yellow film of prejudice. One must enter into the spirit of
the thing!"
Rushford groaned.
"I'm afraid I'm too set in my ways, Susie," he said, dismally. "I've
lived in America too long. You might as well ask me to dance the
can-can, and be done with it!"
"Besides," continued Sue, "it's just as Nell says. We're on the
outside--we haven't got a foothold. There's something the matter."
"Maybe they think I'm that Chicago cashier who got away with a million,
not long ago. On second thought, though, I don't believe that would
make any difference. That fellow would find a very congenial circle
here. He wouldn't have any difficulty in getting behind the scenes!"
"Sue and I have been thinking it over," said Nell, "and we've concluded
that it must be something about the hotel. We seem to have picked out
the wrong one."
"The place _is_ empty, and that's a fact," agreed Rushford.
"It's unnaturally so," said Sue. "Something's the matter with it. It's
taboo for some reason."
"Well, it's good enough for me," remarked her father. "After all, there
isn't much difference in prisons! But I want to repeat, as emphatically
as possible, that I can't keep on loafing here for a month and preserve
my sanity. Don't you see how much whiter my hair's getting? I'm willing
to do anything in reason to oblige you, and I fully realise the
importance of your sociological and ethnological studies--"
Sue's hand on his mouth stopped him.
"Take a breath, dad," she cautioned him. "Take a breath. Those were
mighty long words."
"As I was about to remark," continued Rushford, calmly, taking the hand
away, "I am, of course, a doting parent--who would not be with two such
children? But, candidly, I don't just see where I come in. I tell you,
girls, I've got to have some excitement."
"There's plenty of excitement at the Casino, dad."
"Oh, yes--faro excitement; roulette excitement. I never cared for that
kind. I've always had the sense to keep out of sure-thing games, even on
Wall Street."
"But the people--"
"The people! French apes in fancy waistcoats; Dutch dandies in corsets;
women with painted cheeks and pencilled eyebrows whom you're ashamed to
look at!"
"Some of them are respectable, dad," laughed Sue.
"One would never suspect it!"
"Oh, yes, dad; some of them belong to the nobility."
"That's no certificate of character--rather the reverse, if one may
believe the papers."
"Gossip, dad; nothing but gossip. And you know how you've always hated
gossip. You've told us never to believe it."
"It may be; but one could believe anything of most of the women one sees
around here. My only chance for amusement is to get up a flirtation with
some of them. I don't think it would be difficult--they don't seem a bit
shy. Only," he added, with a sigh, "I'm getting too old."
"Yes, dad; I'm afraid you are," agreed Susie. "You wouldn't really enjoy
it."
"'My days are in the yellow leaf;
The flowers and fruits of love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief
Are mine alone!'"
quoted Nell, in a solemn voice.
"Don't you be too sure!" retorted her father, threateningly, wheeling
around upon her. "There's no telling what I may be driven to, if I'm
kept imprisoned here much longer! 'Though I look old,'--"
"'Yet I am strong and lusty,'" finished Sue. "Of course you are, dad,
and you don't look old, either. Why," gazing up at him critically, "you
don't look a day over forty!"
"Don't try to bamboozle your Pa, Susie," laughed Rushford. "I can see
through you! You'll be trying to make me believe next that you want a
stepmother."
"I would if it would make you any happier, dad."
Her father gazed down for an instant into her pseudo-serious face, then
caught her in his arms and squeezed her.
"What're you up to?" he demanded. "Trying to make a fool of your old
dad? Why, Susie, own up,--you'd scratch out the eyes of the best woman
in the world if she dared to look twice at me!"
"Of course I would!" admitted Susie, instantly. "You know as well as I
do, dad, that even the best woman in the world isn't good enough for
you."
"Let's go across to the other hotel, dad," suggested Nell, with a
nonchalance intended to conceal the fact that this was the point she and
Susie had been aiming at from the very first.
Her father released Susie and stared at his other daughter in amazement.
"What on earth for?" he demanded.
"Oh, everybody seems to be over there--you've noticed--"
"Yes, I've noticed that it's running over with the rag-tag and bob-tail
of all Europe! If you think I'll butt into that Bedlam, my dear child,
you're badly mistaken. I'd rather live with the freaks in a museum."
"But it's so quiet here."
"I'm glad of it! Besides, I thought you wanted quiet?"
"Only for your sake--don't you see, we're trying our best to please you.
A moment ago, you said you wanted excitement."
"I do; but it must be excitement with an object. I haven't got any use
for the infernal, purposeless chattering I hear all around me every time
I go out on the <DW18>. Damn a man, anyhow, who can't find anything better
to do than to run around to summer-resorts and flirt with other men's
wives! I tell you, girls, I want to get back to New York!"
"Give us another month, dad!" pleaded Sue, catching his arm again, as he
stamped up and down. "You know that you promised to stay with us two
months, at the very least. We can't go around without a chaperon."
Her father's face relaxed as he looked down at her, and he smiled
grimly.
"So we get down to the real reason, at last, do we?" he queried. "I
thought all this solicitude for my health was a trifle unnatural. I'm
useful as a chaperon, am I? See here, girls, I can put in my time more
profitably at the stock exchange, and have a heap more fun. I'll hire a
chaperon for you, or half a dozen, if you want them, and pull out for
New York. What do you say? I don't know the first principles of the
business, anyway."
"Oh, yes, you do, dad!" protested Susie. "You're a perfectly ideal
chaperon."
"I am? The ideal chaperon, then, must be one who never does any
chaperoning!"
"That's it, exactly!" cried Nell, clapping her hands delightedly. "How
quickly you see things, dad!"
"So that's it!" and he stood for a moment looking darkly at his
offspring. "Well, you girls are old enough to take care of yourselves.
If you can't, it's high time you were learning how!"
"Oh, we're perfectly able to take care of ourselves," Sue assured him.
"You mustn't worry about us for a moment, dad."
"I'm not likely to. But, in that case, why do you want me along at all?"
"Why, don't you see, dad, it's you who give us the odour of
respectability. By ourselves, we should be social outcasts, impossible,
not to be spoken to--except by men. It isn't convenable."
"Oh, I see," said Rushford. "The first great principle of European
society seems to be, 'Think the worst of every one.'"
"Not precisely, dad; but no unmarried woman may venture outside the
circumference of the family circle. That's the great European
convention--the basic principle of her social order."
"A sort of 'tag, you're it,' game, isn't it? The family circle is a kind
of dead line--the ring of fire which keeps out the wild beasts. Step
over, and you're lost!"
"Of course," said Nell, "it is only to unmarried women that the rule
applies."
"Oh, certainly," assented her father. "Married women are allowed more
latitude--in fact, from such French novels as I've read, I should infer
that they usually swing clear around the circle! It's a reaction, I
suppose; a sort of compensation for the privations of their youth. I
don't like it. Let's go home!"
"But your promise, dad!" pleaded Sue, permitting the faintest suspicion
of moisture to appear in her dark eyes. "And you know you really do need
a vacation."
Her father looked down at her, saw the moisture, and surrendered.
"You're a humbug," he said; "and this vacation business is another. A
man spends two or three months loafing around because somebody tells him
he's looking badly and ought to take a rest; and before he knows it,
he's accumulated so much rust in his system that he never gets it all
out again. His machinery creaks more or less for the rest of his life.
The wise man postpones his vacation to the next world."
"Well, let's call it a jaunt," suggested Susie. "A jaunt somehow implies
hurry and bustle, with plenty of exercise."
"And I don't know which is the bigger fool," pursued her father, not
heeding her; "the fellow who takes a vacation every year on his own
hook, or the one who permits his daughters to drag him away from his
comfortable home and his morning paper and the business which gives him
his interest in life, and maroon him in a desert of a Dutch
watering-place, where there's absolutely nothing for a self-respecting
man to do but smoke himself to death and wait for a paper which never
comes till day after to-morrow!"
"It sounds terribly involved, but I'll help you reason it out, dad, any
time you like," said Susie, obligingly. "And you'll stay, won't you,
dear?"
"Oh, I'll stay, since your heart's so set upon it. I'll try to bear up
and find a diversion of some kind and not rust out any more than I can
help. I might dig in the sand or make mud pies or play mumbly-peg. But I
draw the line at plunging into that whirlpool across the street. My bed
here is nearly as comfortable as the one at home, and the grub's
first-rate."
"Very well, dad," agreed Susie, instantly seizing the concession, but
speaking as though it were she who was making it, "we'll stay here,
then. Only I _do_ wish there were a few more people," she added, with a
sigh. "I hate to sit down in that big, empty dining-room. I imagine I'm
at an Egyptian banquet, and that there are horrid, rattly skeletons
sitting in all those high, covered chairs."
"What you need is some fresh air," said her father. "You girls get your
hats and go for a walk. You're growing morbid. If you think of skeletons
again, I'll give you a liver pill."
"Won't you come, dad?"
"No; you know you don't want me. Besides, I see the panjandrum who
brings the mail coming up the <DW18> down yonder."
He stood gazing down the Digue until his womenkind reappeared, bedight,
ready for the walk.
"You'll do," he said, looking them over critically. "In fact, my dears,
if I wasn't afraid of making you conceited, I'd say I'd never seen two
handsomer girls in my life."
"Now it's you who are blarneying, dad!" cried Susie, but she dimpled
with pleasure nevertheless, and so did Nell.
"No I'm not," retorted Rushford; "and I dare say there are plenty of
other men, even in this Dutch limbo, who have an eye for beauty; let
them break their hearts, if they have any, but keep your own hearts
whole, my dears."
They were laughing in earnest, now, as they looked up in his face, which
had grown suddenly serious.
"Why, dad, what ails you?" questioned Sue. "I think it is you who need
the pill!"
Rushford's face cleared; they were heart-whole thus far--there could be
no doubt of that.
"Perhaps I do," he agreed. "Or perhaps it's only that I'm beginning to
feel the responsibilities of my position."
"Your position?"
"As chaperon," he explained.
"Dear dad!" cried Susie, and squeezed his arm. "Do you suppose that as
long as we have you, either of us will ever think of another man?"
"I don't know," said her father, dubiously. "I scarcely believe I'm so
fascinating as all that. But I just wanted to remind you, girls, that
there's plenty of nice boys at home--boys whom you can trust, through
and through--boys who are clean, and honest, and worth loving. If you
_must_ lose your hearts--and I suppose it's inevitable, some day--please
do me the favour of choosing two of them. I'll sleep better at night and
breathe easier by day!"
CHAPTER II
The Role of Good Angel
Rushford waved them good-bye from the door as they sallied forth into
the bright sunlight, paused a moment to look after them admiringly, and
then turned slowly back into the hotel, smiling softly to himself. He
sauntered through the deserted vestibule, and its emptiness struck him
as it had never done before.
"Really," he said to himself, "we seem to be the only patrons the house
has got. I'll have to look over my bill."
He | 2,209.748214 |
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STANHOPE PRIZE ESSAY--1859.
THE
CAUSES OF THE SUCCESSES
OF THE
OTTOMAN TURKS.
BY
JAMES SURTEES PHILLPOTTS,
SCHOLAR OF NEW COLLEGE.
[Illustration]
OXFORD:
T. and G. SHRIMPTON.
M DCCC LIX.
THE CAUSES OF THE SUCCESSES OF THE OTTOMAN TURKS.
By the fall of the Seljukian dynasty in Asia Minor, a vast number of
Turks, scattered over the fertile tracts of Western Asia, were left
without any organized government. The Emirs of the Seljouks in their
different districts tried to set up separate kingdoms for themselves,
but their power was successfully exercised only in making depredations
upon each other. For some time they were under the sway of the Khans of
Persia, but the decline of the Mogul Empire after the death of Cazan,
freed them from this control[1]. During this time of general anarchy,
a clan of Oghouz Turks, under Ertogruhl, settled in the dominions of
Alaeddin, the chief of Iconium. These Turks were of the same family as
the Huns and Avars, and the other Barbarian hordes, whose invasions
had continually devastated Europe for nearly ten centuries[2]; nor had
the energy and restless activity of their race yet begun to fail. They
were all united by the affinity of race, as well as by their language,
and by the common bond of the Sunnite creed. In return for Ertogruhl’s
services in war Alaeddin gave him a grant of territory in the highlands
of Phrygia. The warlike spirit of Ertogruhl’s son Othman, raised him to
the rank of an independent chieftain, and he soon made himself master
of strong positions on the borders of the Greek Empire. With ill-judged
parsimony, the Emperor Michael had disbanded the militia, who guarded
the passes of Mount Olympus, and had thus left Bithynia open to
attack. Orchan, the son of Othman, took advantage of these favourable
occurrences, enlarged his territory at the expense of the Greeks, and
by uniting several of the scattered Turkish tribes under one head, laid
the foundation of the Ottoman Empire.
Thus the circumstances of the times were throughout eminently
favourable to the Ottomans. The fall of the Seljouk monarchy, and
the consequent diffusion of the Turkish population, had given free
scope to their enterprising spirit. Through the civil wars of the
Byzantine Emperors and the disputes of the Venetians and Genoese, they
were enabled to gain their first footing in Europe. Had Amurath’s
attempt to extend his kingdom over the Christian nations of Thrace and
Roumelia been made in the 11th century, he would have roused all Europe
in common resistance to his rising power. But in 1388, the Servian
confederacy could obtain no aid from Western Christendom. As long as
Richard II. was king of England, and Charles VI. of France--while
Germany was ruled by the dissolute Winceslaus--Amurath had little to
fear from the powers of the West[3]. Spain was too much occupied by
her wars with the Moslems at home to think of the sufferings of her
Christian brethren in the East. Nor was there any danger that the rival
popes of Avignon and Rome would forget their private animosities to
assist in arresting the fall of a distant and schismatical church.
At the crowning point of their success, the siege of Constantinople
by Mahomet II., the advantages of time were again on the side of the
Ottomans. The Roman pontiff, furious at their obstinacy in refusing
to join the communion of the Latin church, had conceived an aversion
for the Greeks which could hardly be exceeded by any abhorrence of
the Mnssulman’s creed. It might have been expected that he would
rouse himself to prevent the destruction of the Eastern defences
of Christendom, but he chose rather a selfish and inglorious part,
content to foresee and even to foretell the coming overthrow of the
Greek Empire[4]. Thus did the Patriarch of the West, the natural head
of any confederacy for the succour of Constantinople, look on at its
fall with seeming unconcern. Meanwhile the English and the French were
engaged in a quarrel too deadly to be reconciled. The Germans would
not join with the Hungarians, nor would the Spanish have any concert
with the Genoese. In short no coalition of the powers of Europe was
possible. Even the Greeks themselves were too much divided by religious
dissensions to offer united resistance to their Moslem foe, and their
want of union could only be equalled by their cowardice. The valour
of the last Constantine did indeed shed glory over his own particular
fate, but the issue of the struggle could not be doubtful when the
disciplined troops and the famed artillery of the Turk were opposed to
the feeble and disunited force of the enervated Byzantines.
These external circumstances are important, as having been auxiliary to
the rise of the Ottomans. But the main causes of their success must be
sought in the wisdom of their rulers and in the institutions which they
established.
Their government was most singularly constituted, and of a character
totally dissimilar to any of the governments of Christendom. The
institutions too from which they derived their solid and lasting power
were for the most part peculiar to themselves. On these institutions
the stability of the Ottoman greatness mainly rested. With their first
appearance it arose; with their gradual development it had grown; as
they were neglected and fell into disuse, the ancient glory of the
Crescent was dimmed, obscured, and finally extinguished.
Even in the legendary history of the founder of their nation is
shadowed forth the faint outline of their peculiar, policy. By patient
waiting till he attained his purpose, Othman won his wife from an alien
tribe. His expeditions were sanctioned by the blessing of the Holy
Scheik Edebali. From the fruit of these expeditions, from the Christian
captives who were condemned to slavery, was selected the wife of his
son Orchan. A Christian apostate, ‘Michael of the Pointed Beard’ was
the chief of Othman’s captains.
It was from the example of their founder, they would have us
believe, that they adopted customs of receiving renegades, of foreign
intermarriage, a warlike zeal sanctioned by religion, a system of
slavery-institutions which in later times were the distinguishing
characteristics of their race[5]. It matters not if these accounts
of Othman’s early history be the invention of later times; this
rather shows (since fiction is more philosophical than truth), that
the Ottomans themselves were convinced that it was mainly on the
preservation of these usages that their greatness rested. It was,
however, reserved for the sons of Othman to set the system on a
permanent basis, and to the legislative genius of Alaeddin in the
succeeding reign, was chiefly due the stability of the Ottoman race.
In general the Asiatic dynasties culminate to their height of power
with a marvellous rapidity, and then, dependent solely on the merits
of their rulers, with no institutions calculated to ensure any lasting
greatness, fall by a decline no less rapid and less marvellous than
their rise. The career of Ottoman conquest lacked the dazzling grandeur
which invests the exploits of Genghis Khan, or Timour, but it was not
destined to be as ephemeral as they. In its slow and cautious advance,
in the gradual organization of conquered provinces, in the unswerving
patience which waited always for the fittest opportunity, it bore no
faint resemblance to the stately march of Roman sovereignty.
The close of Othman’s life of seventy years saw him but just made
possessor of a single city of importance. It was not till the reign of
Orchan that the Ottomans ceased to acknowledge the sovereignty of the
Iconian Sultans, and first adopted a coinage of their own. The wise
policy of Orchan’s coadjutor, Alaeddin, gave them a respite from war
for twenty years, in which time he consolidated the small kingdom they
had already won, and perfected a system which was to be the instrument
of future conquest.
It was during this period of tranquillity that the organization of
the army was effected--an organization which, possessing in itself
the various merits of the most invincible forces that have ever been
collected--the asceticism and brotherhood of the Spartan companies, the
mixture of races in the army of Hannibal, the religious zeal of the
English Puritans, and the devotion of Caesar’s 10th legion--added to
all these, two peculiarities of their creed, the absolute subjection of
every individual to the sacred authority of the Sultan, and the warlike
inspirations of a religion that taught them that ‘in the conflict of
the crossing scymetars Paradise was to be won.’
It is a remarkable and significant fact, that this abstinence from war
for the long period of twenty years was never repeated by the Ottomans
during the time of their success. That soldiers long unemployed must
become either citizens or rebels is an axiom which must have special
force in a government like that of the Ottomans. War was the normal
condition of their race. It was to this object that not only their
iconoclastic creed, but the whole tenor of their institutions pointed,
and in this aspect they must chiefly be contemplated.
The feudal system of the Ottomans was essentially military. It was the
device of an aggressive power and was made to answer a double purpose;
to secure the permanency of its conquests, and to supply soldiers for
war. Ottoman feudalism was wholly different from that which prevailed
in Western Europe. The great distinction lay in the fact, that among
the Ottomans all the feudal vassals held their fiefs directly of
the Sultan, or his officers; whereas in Western Europe, between the
sovereigns and the lower tenants was interposed a powerful class,
which always more or less counterbalanced the supreme power. The one
was the division of a kingdom into petty fiefs, the other the fusion
of conquered territories under the sway of one victorious monarch. It
was through the feudal system of the Ottomans, in combination with
their institution of slavery, that war was made to feed war; that every
conquest supplied the means for future conquest.
The use of the Ottoman system for the supply of soldiers in time of
war may be estimated from the fact, that an armed horseman was required
for every fief of the value of twelve pounds a year, and another for
every additional twenty pounds. In the time of Solyman these fiefs were
able to furnish 150,000 cavalry[6]. The feudal troops were always kept
in readiness, nor was anything required to summon them to the field
but an order of the Sultan to the two Beglerbegs of the Empire from
whom it was communicated to a regular gradation of officers entrusted
with the task of mustering these Spahi, or Cavaliers, in their separate
divisions[7]. This force served without pay. If they fell in battle,
they were honoured as martyrs: if they distinguished themselves, or if
the expedition was successful, they were rewarded with larger gifts of
property. All their hopes of advancement depended upon the Sultan, and
his success in war. They were ready to do his bidding in any part of
the world, for the greater part of every country which they subdued was
divided among the members of their own body.
It is to this institution of feudalism that we must look for an
explanation of the fact, that the Turkish conquests, unlike those of
other great conquerors, seldom returned to their original possessors.
Immediately an additional piece of territory was gained, it became an
integral part of the Empire. Thus it was that the Sultans were able to
consolidate and unite their dominions, step by step, with every fresh
acquisition of land. In most cases, the conquest of distant territories
has been any thing rather than lucrative to the victorious nation. But
the Turkish conquests reimbursed the Sultan, and enriched the nation;
some portions of land were regularly assigned to the sovereign, and
others became public property.
Thus the community of the Timarli, or fief-holders, carried out, on
a large scale, the intention of the Roman system of colonise, both
as guarding the dangerous frontiers and ensuring the preservation of
conquered lands.
But there is one aspect of the Ottoman feudalism which we have not
yet regarded, and which redounds more than any other to their honor.
Toleration of creed, with one remarkable exception, was given to the
conquered Christians, and even in the days of Othman, equal protection
was dealt out alike to Greek and Turk, Christian and Mahometan. This
tolerant and enlightened system induced numbers of the Christians who
dwelt on the borders of the Ottoman Empire to exchange their hard
position, as Hungarian serfs, for that of Rayas under the Turks.
We have said that there was one most signal exception to the general
toleration of their rule, and this was the institution of the corps
of Janissaries, the Yengi Cheri, or “New Soldiers” of Alaeddin. The
importance of a well-disciplined standing army struck the far-seeing
mind of Orchan’s coadjutor, and to the organization of the army he
gave his chief attention during the twenty years of peace of which
we have spoken. He first formed, of the native Osmanli, a corps of
paid infantry. But it soon appeared that these Turks were too proud
and turbulent to endure the necessary discipline. In this perplexity
we are told that Alaeddin sought the advice of his relative Black
Khalil Tschendereli. Black Khalil’s counsel dictated a device of the
most subtle and effective kind--that the Ottoman army must be formed
out of the children of the conquered Christians, who should be forced
to become Mahometans. By this means, he argued, you will gain troops
which can be schooled to any discipline. To the Mussulman religion
you will gain many converts, while you will prevent any rebellion of
your Christian subjects by the incorporation of the whole strength of
their race with your own forces. The plan was adopted by Alaeddin and
carried out in the next reign by the First Amurath. Amurath’s warlike
spirit, and the lust of conquest that was predominant in his race, led
him to make repeated expeditions against the Sclavonic tribes of Servia
and Bosnia. Among this hardy race he found no treasures of gold and
silver--no spoil for his conquering army--but he found an inexhaustible
supply of brave soldiers[8]. The children who were taken captive in his
wars were immediately disciplined in the schools of the Janissaries,
and in due time drafted into their ranks. Those who were not available
for this purpose, or for the service of the Sultan, were sold as
slaves, and thus brought in a considerable revenue to the Turkish
Emperor.
As long as the flower of the Christian youth were converted not merely
into Mahometans, but into devoted supporters of the Ottoman power,
any revolt of the Rayas was impossible. In their strict discipline
and continued occupation the proselytes lost all remembrance of their
kindred and their country. With the highest positions in the Empire
open to their ambition, they might well glory in a station that raised
them over the heads of the native Osmanli. The rigorous pride with
which they kept their own body aloof from any foreign admixture may
offer a parallel to that remarkable system by which the proudest
chivalry of Egypt was formed out of Circassian slaves.
Thus at the court of the Sultan were gathered an abundance of men,
from various nations, devoted only to the common weal of the race into
which they were adopted. Not only were there the prisoners taken in
war, as well as the tithe, so to speak, of Christian children taken
every five years, but from every pacha of the Empire came presents
of slaves to the Sultan[9]. These slaves were divided into different
classes, according to their abilities. Those who were destined for
Janissaries were trained to every exercise that could increase their
physical strength, and inure them to toil and hardship. Others were
educated for the more immediate service of the Sultan, either as his
state-officers or his body-guard. Thus the Turkish armies, though
they were those of an Asiatic nation, were composed of the hardiest
of Europeans. Nor were these Europeans ever suffered to fall into the
enervating habits of Asiatics. They had no homes in which they could be
pampered with Oriental luxury. Their barracks were like monasteries;
their dress the dark robes of monks; their meals the frugal fare of
mountaineers. They were not allowed to take wives; they might ply no
trades; engage in no commerce; nor were any admitted into their body
who had not gone through the regular course of this discipline. At home
they lived as if they were in the camp; in the camp they preserved the
same order, the same discipline as at home. War was the occupation
of their life. They had given no “hostages to fortune;” they had no
domestic ties that could bind them to a peaceful life. Their hopes of
advancement rested on their valour in battle. They were justly proud of
the achievements of their corps, and were stimulated by every motive of
ambition, self-interest, and the love of glory, above all, emulation
to surpass the successes of their predecessors. They knew that the
watchful eyes of the Sultan were on them in the fight, and that every
deed of heroism would meet with its appropriate reward. If he fell,
what recked a Janissary of death, save as the glorious consummation
of his prowess, as the opening of Paradise to the martyr who had won
it[10]?
The testimony of contemporary writers to the wonderful efficacy of
this remarkable institution is unanimous. Schwendi, a general of their
opponents, owns that the Janissaries had never turned their backs in
battle. Busbequius, the German ambassador, struck with admiration at
their discipline and endurance, warns his countrymen of the nature of
the foe whom they must be prepared to encounter, if they enter a war
with the Turks. Barbaro, an ambassador of the Venetian government,
comments with wonder on the fact that the power of the Ottomans
mainly rested on a corps of compulsory converts from Christianity.
The Venetian Relationi, quoted by Von Ranke, are full of the remarks
of ambassadors expressing their admiration of the whole system of the
Ottoman arms[11].
One of the most conspicuous features of their discipline was the
order, temperance, and cleanliness of an Ottoman camp, as constrasted
with the drunken, dissolute, and filthy habits of the armies of
Christendom[12]. Frequently encamped as they were in the pestilential
districts which proved disastrous to the French and English armies at
the commencement of the late Russian war, we can easily understand how
great an advantage over their opponents these wise regulations secured
them in their campaigns.
The fiery valour of the Christian knights might surpass the more
patient courage of the Ottoman troops, but their pride of birth, and
spirit of independence would not brook the discipline, nor render
the obedience, for which the Janissaries were remarkable; and to
this may be attributed the fatal results of the battle of Nicopolis.
At Kossova the Asiatic wing of the Turkish army had recoiled from
the repeated onsets of the Bosnian king and his warriors, but the
Janissaries ‘fighting with the zeal of proselytes’ against their
Sclavonic brethren recovered the fortunes of the day for Amurath[13].
At Varna the panic which had spread through the Turkish troops from
the furious attacks of Ladislaus and Hunyades was only checked by the
firm resistance, the unflinching endurance of the Janissaries[14]. When
the desperate and heroic resistance of the last Greek Emperor, and his
few brave adherents, had driven back the Anatolian soldiery, and the
fate of Constantinople was still hanging in the balance, it was their
surpassing valour that turned the scales of victory, bore down all
resistance, and won Eastern Rome for the capital of the Ottoman Empire.
At the great crises of their history we have seen how it was the
power of the Janissaries that saved the Ottomans; but in every
battle, in every campaign, the possession of a formidable corps of
well-disciplined infantry at a time when their opponents had no regular
infantry at all, gave them a continual advantage. It has been remarked
that the Ottomans never encountered the forces of the only two European
nations who had at this time any organized foot-soldiers[15]. We all
know how the chivalry of France fell before the English bowmen at
Cressy and Poictiers, and how the troops of Austria fled before the
halberdiers of Switzerland, and we may doubt whether the Janissaries
would have been equally invincible had they met the English or the
Swiss on the battle-fields of Servia.
The institution of the Janissary force must not be considered as a
system of mere cruelty and intolerance. The records of the age tell us
that it was an usual occurrence for Christian parents voluntarily to
bring their sons to the press-gang of the Janissaries, in order that in
due time they might be enrolled in their ranks, while the high offices
which were thrown open to these proselytes of Mahometanism brought
renegades in numbers to the Sultan’s court, where no distinction of
birth or country interfered to mar their fortunes. This system of
the reception of refugees from all countries gained for the Ottomans
many of the greatest names which adorn their history. Of the ten
grand-viziers of Solyman, eight were renegades from Christianity. It
was indeed noted as an unusual circumstance that one of his viziers was
a native Turk[16]. Piale, who defeated the united Christian fleets in
1560 off the isle of Djerbe, was himself the son of Christian parents.
Cicala Pasha, the great commander under the successors of Solyman,
was an Italian by birth, but as aga of the Janissaries became one of
the fiercest enemies of the Christians. And in the earliest times we
find that Evrenos, who under Bajazet and Amurath I. added the greater
part of Greece to the Ottoman dominions, was originally a Christian
chieftain and a guardian of the passes of Mount Olympus. During the
flourishing period of the Empire nearly all the high civil and military
offices were filled by Christian slaves, who had risen either from the
ranks of the Janissaries, or who had been brought up by the Mufti in
the profession of the law[17]. Thus, to use the words of Gibbon, “a
servile class, an artificial people, were raised by the discipline of
education to obey, to conquer, and to command[18].”
If it be true according to the account we have given of the
constitution of the Empire, that the highest offices of the state were
conferred by the ruling prince on men raised by his own hand from
slavery--that the feudal tenants were subject to a single superior, and
the army directed by a single will,--it is evident that nothing but
the largest capacity for legislation and military command could have
successfully wielded such enormous authority.
Of the extraordinary genius of the early Sultans there is abundant
proof[19]. The character of Othman was precisely suited for one
who was to be the founder of a dynasty. He was conspicuous among a
warlike tribe for his boldness and independence, and he possessed that
marvellous influence over the minds of those around him, which is one
of the peculiar characteristics of the greatest men. In Orchan we see
the enduring watchfulness, the indomitable resolution which never fails
to attain its object, while in the person of Alaeddin his coadjutor we
may admire the far-sighted legislator, the brightness of whose original
genius shone forth undimmed by the prejudices of an unenlightened
age. By the organization of a standing army he marked out future
conquests for his race, while by the tolerant spirit of his legislation
he ordained that a due protection should be given to the conquered.
Amurath by a series of successful campaigns gained the city of
Adrianople for his capital. Then with admirable prudence he paused for
a while to consolidate his conquests and mature his resources, and thus
paved the way for his final victory at Kossova. The name of Yilderim
or the Thunderbolt testifies to the energy of the First Bajazet, but
it was a just punishment for his overbearing pride in later years that
the Tartar Conqueror Timour was provoked to crush his power on the
field of Angora, and to doom him to an ignominious captivity. The work
of the destroyer was for the time complete, and it seemed as if the
Ottoman power was irrecoverably ruined. But the mould into which their
national life had been cast was not so easily destroyed. The force of
their institutions still remained, and the people were still attached
to the tolerance of their ancient government, and so, after many years
of civil war, the unity of the Ottoman power was easily restored by
the vigorous hand of Mahomet the First. The bold measures of Amurath
II. caused the signal overthrow of his Hungarian opponents at Varna,
and the annexation of Servia and Bosnia in the succeeding reign are
due in great measure to his toleration and prudence. The abdication
of his father gave Mahomet the Second experience in the command of an
Empire at the early age of eighteen, and a double failure as viceroy
secured him wisdom for his sole reign. Setting aside any consideration
of his character, it is impossible to deny his legislative ability
and military genius, in building up the greatness of his nation.
The domestic dissensions of the Empire, under the feebler hand of
Bajazet II., showed how requisite a warlike and energetic Sultan was
to its preservation under its peculiar constitution. Tabriz, and the
subjection of the Mamelukes | 2,210.046621 |
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Internet Archive)
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.
* * * * *
[Illustration: MAJOR L. A. ABBOTT, U. S. A.
THE AUTHOR.
_Clinedinst, Washington, D. C._]
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
AND
CIVIL WAR DIARY
1864
By
MAJOR LEMUEL ABIJAH ABBOTT, U. S. A.
Late Captain 10th Regt. Vt. Vol. Infantry
BURLINGTON:
FREE PRESS PRINTING CO.
PRINTERS, BINDERS, STATIONERS.
1908.
DEDICATION.
TO THE PATRIOTS AND COMRADES
OF ONE OF VERMONT'S MOST GALLANT REGIMENTS,
THE TENTH VERMONT VOLUNTEER INFANTRY.
MAY ITS STATE PRIDE,
FIDELITY, _esprit de corps_ AND SPLENDID RECORD IN
THE CIVIL WAR SERVE AS AN EXAMPLE AND
INSPIRATION TO COMING GENERATIONS.
PREFACE
The following Diary covering the interesting period of the Civil
War from January 1, to December 31, 1864, and a portion of 1865 to
the surrender of General R. E. Lee at Appomattox Court House, Va.,
was kept by the Author at the age of twenty-two when an officer
of the Tenth Regiment Vermont Volunteer Infantry, Third and First
Brigade, Third Division, Third and Sixth Corps respectively, Army of
the Potomac, and is a brief | 2,210.145775 |
2023-11-16 18:53:54.1310390 | 216 | 181 |
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Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from scans of public domain works at the
University of Michigan's Making of America collection.)
HARPER'S
NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE
NO. XXVI.--JULY, 1852.--VOL. V.
[Illustration: GENERAL VIEW.]
THE ARMORY AT SPRINGFIELD
BY JACOB ABBOTT
SPRINGFIELD.
The Connecticut river flows through the State of Massachusetts, from
north to south, on a line about half way between the middle of the
State and its western boundary. The valley through which the river
flows, which perhaps the stream itself has formed, is broad and
fertile, and it presents, in the summer months of the year, one widely
extended scene of inexpressible verdure and beauty. The river meanders
through a region of broad and luxuriant meadows which are overflow | 2,210.151079 |
2023-11-16 18:53:54.2322530 | 2,226 | 15 |
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by The Internet Archive)
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
A superscript is denoted by ^x or ^{xx}, for example Esq^{re}.
Some minor changes are noted at the end of the book.
[Illustration:
BY COMMAND OF His late Majesty WILLIAM THE IV^{TH}.
_and under the Patronage of_
Her Majesty the Queen.
HISTORICAL RECORDS,
_OF THE_
British Army
_Comprising the_
_History of every Regiment_
_IN HER MAJESTY'S SERVICE_.
_By Richard Cannon Esq^{re}._
_Adjutant General's Office, Horse Guards._
London.
_Printed by Authority._]
HISTORICAL RECORD
OF
THE FIFTY-THIRD,
OR
THE SHROPSHIRE REGIMENT OF FOOT.
CONTAINING
AN ACCOUNT OF THE FORMATION OF THE REGIMENT
IN 1755
AND OF ITS SUBSEQUENT SERVICES
TO 1848.
COMPILED BY
RICHARD CANNON, ESQ.,
ADJUTANT-GENERAL'S OFFICE, HORSE GUARDS.
ILLUSTRATED WITH PLATES.
LONDON:
PARKER, FURNIVALL, & PARKER,
30, CHARING-CROSS.
MDCCCXLIX.
LONDON: PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET,
FOR HER MAJESTY'S STATIONERY OFFICE.
THE FIFTY-THIRD,
OR
THE SHROPSHIRE REGIMENT OF FOOT,
BEARS ON THE REGIMENTAL COLOUR
THE WORD "NIEUPORT;"
IN COMMEMORATION OF ITS DISTINGUISHED GALLANTRY IN THE DEFENCE OF THAT
FORTRESS IN OCTOBER, 1793;
THE WORD "TOURNAY;"
IN TESTIMONY OF ITS HEROIC CONDUCT IN ACTION AGAINST A SUPERIOR
FORCE OF THE ENEMY IN MAY, 1794;
THE WORDS "ST. LUCIA;"
AS A MARK OF DISTINCTION FOR ITS BRAVERY DISPLAYED AT THE CAPTURE OF
ST. LUCIA, IN MAY, 1796;
THE WORDS
"TALAVERA," "SALAMANCA," "VITTORIA," "PYRENEES,"
"NIVELLE," "TOULOUSE," AND "PENINSULA,"
TO COMMEMORATE THE MERITORIOUS SERVICES OF THE _Second_ BATTALION
DURING THE PENINSULAR WAR, FROM 1809 TO 1814;
AND THE WORDS
"ALIWAL," AND "SOBRAON;"
AS A LASTING TESTIMONY OF THE GALLANT CONDUCT OF THE REGIMENT
ON THE BANKS OF THE SUTLEJ, ON THE 28TH JANUARY, AND
10TH FEBRUARY, 1846.
THE FIFTY-THIRD,
OR
THE SHROPSHIRE REGIMENT.
CONTENTS
OF THE
HISTORICAL RECORD.
YEAR PAGE
INTRODUCTION i
1755 Formation of the Regiment 1
---- Colonel W. Whitmore appointed to the colonelcy -
---- Numbered the FIFTY-FIFTH, and afterwards the
FIFTY-THIRD regiment -
---- Station, uniform, and facing -
---- Officers appointed to commissions 2
1756 Embarked for Gibraltar -
1759 Appointment of Colonel John Toovey to the colonelcy,
in succession to Colonel Whitmore, removed to the
ninth regiment -
1768 Returned from Gibraltar, and embarked for Ireland 3
1770 Appointment of Colonel R. D. H. Elphinstone to the
colonelcy, in succession to Colonel Toovey, deceased -
1776 Embarked for North America -
1777 Engaged with the American forces -
1782 The American war terminated 4
---- The regiment directed to assume the county title of
Shropshire regiment in addition to its Numerical title -
1789 Returned to England from North America -
1790 Embarked on board of the fleet to serve as Marines -
1791 Proceeded to Scotland 5
1793 Embarked for service in Flanders -
---- Engaged at Famars -
---- -------- the siege and capture of Valenciennes -
---- -------- the siege of Dunkirk 6
---- -------- Nieuport -
---- Received the Royal Authority to bear the word
"_Nieuport_" on the colours -
1794 Major-General Gerald Lake, afterwards Viscount Lake,
appointed to the colonelcy, in succession to
General Elphinstone, deceased -
---- Engaged in operations at Vaux, Prémont, Marets, &c. 7
---- ---- at the siege and capture of Landrécies -
---- -------- repulse of the enemy at Cateau -
---- -------------------------------- Tournay -
---- -------- capture of Lannoy, Roubaix, and Mouveaux -
---- ---- in the masterly retreat to Leers 8
---- ---- storming the village of Pontéchin 9
---- Received the Royal Authority to bear the word
"_Tournay_" on its colours 10
1795 Returned to England --
---- Encamped at Southampton --
---- Embarked with an expedition for the West Indies --
1796 Attack and Capture of St. Lucia --
1796 Received the Royal Authority to bear the words
"_St. Lucia_" on its colours 11
---- Embarked for St. Vincent --
---- Engaged in quelling an insurrection, and expelling
the Caribs from the Island of St. Vincent --
---- Received the thanks of the General Officer commanding,
and of the Council and Assembly of the Island 12
---- Appointment of Major-General W. E. Doyle to the
colonelcy, in succession to General Lake, removed
to the 73rd regiment --
1797 Engaged in the capture of Trinidad --
---- Employed in an unsuccessful attempt at Porto Rico --
---- Returned to St. Vincent 13
1798 Lieut.-General Crosbie appointed to the colonelcy,
in succession to Major-General Doyle, deceased --
1800 Removed from St. Vincent to St. Lucia --
1802 Returned to England on the surrender of St. Lucia to
France according to the treaty of peace concluded
at Amiens --
1803 Marched under the command of Lieut.-Colonel Lightburne,
for Shrewsbury --
1805 The First Battalion embarked for India --
---- Arrived at Fort St. George, Madras, and proceeded to
Dinapore --
1806 Removed from Dinapore to Berhampore 14
1807 Proceeded from Berhampore to Cawnpore --
---- Major-General Honorable John Abercromby appointed to
the colonelcy in succession to General Crosbie,
deceased --
1809 Three companies detached to Bundelcund, and engaged
at the siege and capture of the fort of Adjighion --
1809 The Battalion took the field with the troops under
Colonel Martindell 15
1810 Returned to Cawnpore, and received the thanks of the
officer commanding for their conduct --
1812 Five companies engaged in the storming of the fortress
of _Callinger_ --
---- Surrender of the garrison of _Callinger_ on the
remaining five companies joining from Cawnpore 17
---- The Battalion returned to Cawnpore, and afterwards
proceeded to Meerut 18
1814 Marched from Meerut, and joined the army formed for
the invasion of the kingdom of Nepaul, or the
Gorca State --
---- Engaged in the storming and capture of the fort of
_Kalunga_ 19
---- Proceeded to the capture of _Nahn_ and other fortified
places on the Jampta heights 21
---- The Nepaulese reduced to submission --
---- Embarked for Berhampore, proceeded to Calcutta, and
afterwards embarked for Madras --
1816 The Battalion proceeded from Madras to the Naggery
Pass, to repress the plundering tribes of Pindarees --
---- Marched for Trichinopoly 22
1817 Appointment of Lieut.-General Lord Hill, G.C.B., to
the colonelcy, in succession to Lieut.-General
Sir John Abercromby, deceased --
---- The flank companies employed with a field force under
Brigadier-General Pritzler 23
1819 Assault of the fort of _Copaul Droog_ --
1820 Marched from Trichinopoly for Bellary --
1820 Proceeded to Bangalore 23
---- The flank companies rejoined the regiment after much
arduous service 24
| 2,210.252293 |
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Produced by Katie Hernandez, sp1nd and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
Transcriber's Note:
All obvious errors have been corrected.
Archaic and alternate spellings have been retained.
By DMITRI MEREJKOWSKI
=THE DEATH OF THE GODS.= Authorized English Version by HERBERT
TRENCH. 12^o
=THE ROMANCE OF LEONARDO DA VINCI: THE FORERUNNER.= (The
Resurrection of the Gods.) Authorized English Version from the
Russian. 12^o. With 8 Illustrations
----Artist's Edition, with 64 illustrations. 2 vols., 8^o
=PETER AND ALEXIS.= Authorized English Version from the Russian.
12^o
=G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS=
=New York= =London=
+Christ and Antichrist+
The Death of the
Gods
By
Dmitri Merejkowski
Translated by
Herbert Trench
Sometime Fellow of All Souls College, Oxford
_Authorised English Version_
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
The Knickerbocker Press
Copyright 1901
by
G. P. Putnam's Sons
Made in the United States of America
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
MEREJKOWSKI
Dmitri Merejkowski is perhaps the most interesting and powerful of the
younger Russian novelists, the only writer that promises to carry on
the work of Tolstoi, Turgeniev, and Dostoievski. His books, which are
already numerous, are animated by a single master-idea, the
Pagano-Christian dualism of our human nature. What specially interests
him in the vast spectacle of human affairs is the everlasting contest
between the idea of a God-Man and the idea of a Man-God; that is to
say, between the conception of a God incarnate for awhile (as in
Christ) and the conception of Man as himself God--gradually evolving
higher types of splendid and ruling character which draw after them
the generations.
The novelist's own doctrine seems to be that both the Pagan and the
Christian elements in our nature, although distinct elements, are
equally legitimate and sacred. His teaching is that the soul and the
senses have an equal right to be respected; that hedonism and altruism
are equals, and that the really full man, the perfect man, is he who
can ally in harmonious equilibrium the cult of Dionysus and the cult
of Christ.
Merejkowski conceives that European civilisation has been born of the
tremendous conflict between these two main ideas. And he has embodied
this conflict in a trilogy of novels,--three great historical
romances. The first is entitled _The Death of the Gods_, and deals
with the extraordinary career of the Roman Emperor. Julian the
Apostate, who in the fourth century A.D. sought to revive the worship
of the Olympians after Christianity had been adopted by Constantine
the Great as the official religion of the Roman Empire.
The historical novel, pure and simple, exists no longer. Writers of
genius who seem to write historical novels in reality are only
transferring to the stage of the world a drama which is being played
in their own souls. They transfer thither that drama in order to show
that the struggle which is now going on in us is eternal. Merejkowski
sees the question, which is of supreme interest to us, being asked by
the great spirits of a wealthy and imperial civilisation closely
resembling our own, in the fourth century. And, what is of more
interest still, he not only sees the momentous problem and places it
before us with remarkable lucidity, but he also seems, in his own
fashion, to arrive at a solution. Moreover, this novelist, this
psychologist, is also an artist and a poet, possessed by what he
somewhere calls the "Nostalgia of the Distant." With an ardour as of
Flaubert in _Salammbo_, and with perhaps more skill than Sienkiewicz
in _Quo Vadis_, the author of _The Death of the Gods_ has succeeded in
re-creating the wonderful rich scenes and characters of that remote
epoch. We see the racing stables of the Hippodrome of Constantinople,
battles with wild German warriors round Strasburg, the interior of the
baths at Antioch, dinners of epicures and men of letters at Athens,
pictures of a Roman Emperor at his toilet-table, or of a lovelorn
child in the Temple of Aphrodite. Before writing this first of his
great romances Merejkowski himself travelled through Asia Minor and
Greece, visited Constantinople and Syria, and gathered everywhere
living impressions to serve his art and his thought. He was besides
admirably prepared to handle a subject which had attracted him from
youth. A delicate Hellenist, his first appearance in literary life was
as a harmonious translator of AEschylus and Sophocles. Later, the
Gnostics, the Fathers of the Eastern Church, the Greek Sophists (who
represented the last throes of expiring Paganism and already dreamed
of reviving it), were the young poet's objects of study. Thus was born
the romance of _The Death of the Gods_, which he has continued later
in _The Resurrection of the Gods_ (of which Leonardo da Vinci is the
hero), and completed by _The Anti-Christ_, portraying the savage | 2,210.476821 |
2023-11-16 18:53:55.0255390 | 2,237 | 6 |
Produced by Al Haines.
*INSURGENT
MEXICO*
BY
*JOHN REED*
NEW YORK AND LONDON
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
1914
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
EPISODES IN THIS BOOK ARE ALSO PROTECTED BY THE
FOLLOWING COPYRIGHT:
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY THE METROPOLITAN MAGAZINE COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
_To
PROFESSOR CHARLES TOWNSEND COPELAND
of
HARVARD UNIVERSITY_
_Dear Copey:_
_I remember you thought it strange that my first trip abroad didn't make
me want to write about what I saw there. But since then I have visited
a country which stimulated me to express it in words. And as I wrote
these impressions of Mexico I couldn't help but think that I never would
have seen what I did see had it not been for your teaching me._
_I can only add my word to what so many who are writing already have
told you: That to listen to you is to learn how to see the hidden beauty
of the visible world; that to be your friend is to try to be
intellectually honest._
_So I dedicate this book to you with the understanding that you shall
take as your own the parts that please you, and forgive me the rest._
_As ever,_
_Jack._
_New York,_
_July 3, 1914._
*CONTENTS*
On the Border
PART I. DESERT WAR
I. Urbina's Country
II. The Lion of Durango at Home
III. The General Goes to War
IV. La Tropa on the March
V. White Nights at Zarca
VI. "Quien Vive?"
VII. An Outpost of the Revolution
VIII. The Five Musketeers
IX. The Last Night
X. The Coming of the Colorados
XI. Meester's Flight
XII. Elizabetta
PART II. FRANCISCO VILLA
I. Villa Accepts a Medal
II. The Rise of a Bandit
III. A Peon in Politics
IV. The Human Side
V. The Funeral of Abram Gonzales
VI. Villa and Carranza
VII. The Rules of War
VIII. The Dream of Pancho Villa
PART III. JIMINEZ AND POINTS WEST
I. Dona Luisa's Hotel
II. Duello a la Frigada
III. Saved by a Wrist-Watch
IV. Symbols of Mexico
PART IV. A PEOPLE IN ARMS
I. "On to Torreon!"
II. The Army at Yermo
III. First Blood
IV. On the Cannon Car
V. At the Gates of Gomez
VI. The Companeros Reappear
VII. The Bloody Dawn
VIII. The Artillery Comes Up
IX. Battle
X. Between Attacks
XI. An Outpost in Action
XII. Contreras' Men Assault
XIII. A Night Attack
XIV. The Fall of Gomez Palacio
PART V. CARRANZA--AN IMPRESSION
Carranza--An Impression
PART VI. MEXICAN NIGHTS
I. El Cosmopolita
II. Happy Valley
III. Los Pastores
*INSURGENT MEXICO*
*ON THE BORDER*
Mercado's Federal army, after its dramatic and terrible retreat four
hundred miles across the desert when Chihuahua was abandoned, lay three
months at Ojinaga on the Rio Grande.
At Presidio, on the American side of the river, one could climb to the
flat mud roof of the Post Office and look across the mile or so of low
scrub growing in the sand to the shallow, yellow stream; and beyond to
the low _mesa_, where the town was, sticking sharply up out of a
scorched desert, ringed round with bare, savage mountains.
One could see the square, gray adobe houses of Ojinaga, with here and
there the Oriental cupola of an old Spanish church. It was a desolate
land, without trees. You expected minarets. By day, Federal soldiers
in shabby white uniforms swarmed about the place desultorily digging
trenches, for Villa and his victorious Constitutionalists were rumored
to be on the way. You got sudden glints, where the sun flashed on field
guns; strange, thick clouds of smoke rose straight in the still air.
Toward evening, when the sun went down with the flare of a blast
furnace, patrols of cavalry rode sharply across the skyline to the night
outposts. And after dark, mysterious fires burned in the town.
There were thirty-five hundred men in Ojinaga. This was all that
remained of Mercado's army of ten thousand and the five thousand which
Pascual Orozco had marched north from Mexico City to reinforce him. Of
this thirty-five hundred, forty-five were majors, twenty-one colonels,
and eleven generals.
I wanted to interview General Mercado; but one of the newspapers had
printed something displeasing to General Salazar, and he had forbidden
the reporters the town. I sent a polite request to General Mercado.
The note was intercepted by General Orozco, who sent back the following
reply:
ESTEEMED AND HONORED SIR: If you set foot inside of Ojinaga, I will
stand you sideways against a wall, and with my own hand take great
pleasure in shooting furrows in your back.
But after all I waded the river one day and went up into the town.
Luckily, I did not meet General Orozco. No one seemed to object to my
entrance. All the sentries I saw were taking a siesta on the shady side
of adobe walls. But almost immediately I encountered a courteous
officer named Hernandez, to whom I explained that I wished to see
General Mercado.
Without inquiring as to my identity, he scowled, folded his arms, and
burst out:
"I am General Orozco's chief of staff, and I will not take you to see
General Mercado!"
I said nothing. In a few minutes he explained:
"General Orozco hates General Mercado! He does not deign to go to
General Mercado's cuartel, and General Mercado does not dare to come to
General Orozco's cuartel! He is a coward. He ran away from Tierra
Blanca, and then he ran away from Chihuahua!"
"What other Generals don't you like?" I asked.
He caught himself and slanted an angry look at me, and then grinned:
"_Quien sabe....?_"
I saw General Mercado, a fat, pathetic, worried, undecided little man,
who blubbered and blustered a long tale about how the United States army
had come across the river and helped Villa to win the battle of Tierra
Blanca.
The white, dusty streets of the town, piled high with filth and fodder,
the ancient windowless church with its three enormous Spanish bells
hanging on a rack outside and a cloud of blue incense crawling out of
the black doorway, where the women camp followers of the army prayed for
victory day and night, lay in hot, breathless sun. Five times had
Ojinaga been lost and taken. Hardly a house that had a roof, and all the
walls gaped with cannon-shot. In these bare, gutted rooms lived the
soldiers, their women, their horses, their chickens and pigs, raided
from the surrounding country. Guns were stacked in the corners, saddles
piled in the dust. The soldiers were in rags; scarcely one possessed a
complete uniform. They squatted around little fires in their doorways,
boiling corn-husks and dried meat. They were almost starving.
Along the main street passed an unbroken procession of sick, exhausted,
starving people, driven from the interior by fear of the approaching
rebels, a journey of eight days over the most terrible desert in the
world. They were stopped by a hundred soldiers along the street, and
robbed of every possession that took the Federals' fancy. Then they
passed on to the river, and on the American side they had to run the
gantlet of the United States customs and immigration officials and the
Army Border Patrol, who searched them for arms.
Hundreds of refugees poured across the river, some on horseback driving
cattle before them, some in wagons, and others on foot. The inspectors
were not very gentle.
"Come down off that wagon!" one would shout to a Mexican woman with a
bundle in her arm.
"But, senor, for what reason?..." she would begin.
"Come down there or I'll pull you down!" he would yell.
They made an unnecessarily careful and brutal search of the men and of
the women, too.
As I stood there, a woman waded across the ford, her skirts lifted
unconcernedly to her thighs. She wore a voluminous shawl, which was
humped up in front as if she were carrying something in it.
"Hi, there!" shouted a customs man. "What have you got under your
shawl?"
She slowly opened the front of her dress, and answered placidly:
"I don't know, senor. It may be a girl, or it may be a boy."
These were metropolitan days for Presidio, a straggling and
indescribably desolate village of about fifteen adobe houses, scattered
without much plan in the deep sand and cotton-wood scrub along the river
bottom. Old Kleinmann, the German store-keeper, made a fortune a day
outfitting refugees and supplying the Federal army across the river with
provisions. He had three beautiful adolescent daughters whom he kept
locked up in the attic of the store, because a flock of amorous Mexicans
and ardent cow-punch | 2,211.045579 |
2023-11-16 18:53:55.1259210 | 5,913 | 8 |
Produced by Anthony Matonac
TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT
or
Under the Ocean for Sunken Treasure
by
VICTOR APPLETON
CONTENTS
I News of a Treasure Wreck
II Finishing the Submarine
III Mr. Berg Is Astonished
IV Tom Is Imprisoned
V Mr. Berg Is Suspicious
VI Turning the Tables
VII Mr. Damon Will Go
VIII Another Treasure Expedition
IX Captain Weston's Advent
X Trial of the Submarine
XI On the Ocean Bed
XII For a Breath of Air
XIII Off for the Treasure
XIV In the Diving Suits
XV At the Tropical Island
XVI "We'll Race You For It!"
XVII The Race
XVIII The Electric Gun
XIX Captured
XX Doomed to Death
XXI The Escape
XXII At the Wreck
XXIII Attacked by Sharks
XXIV Ramming the Wreck
XXV Home with the Gold
TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT
Chapter One
News of a Treasure Wreck
There was a rushing, whizzing, throbbing noise in the air. A great
body, like that of some immense bird, sailed along, casting a grotesque
shadow on the ground below. An elderly man, who was seated on the
porch of a large house, started to his feet in alarm.
"Gracious goodness! What was that, Mrs. Baggert?" he called to a
motherly-looking woman who stood in the doorway. "What happened?"
"Nothing much, Mr. Swift," was the calm reply "I think that was Tom and
Mr. Sharp in their airship, that's all. I didn't see it, but the noise
sounded like that of the Red Cloud."
"Of course! To be sure!" exclaimed Mr. Barton Swift, the well-known
inventor, as he started down the path in order to get a good view of
the air, unobstructed by the trees. "Yes, there they are," he added.
"That's the airship, but I didn't expect them back so soon. They must
have made good time from Shopton. I wonder if anything can be the
matter that they hurried so?"
He gazed aloft toward where a queerly-shaped machine was circling about
nearly five hundred feet in the air, for the craft, after swooping down
close to the house, had ascended and was now hovering just above the
line of breakers that marked the New Jersey seacoast, where Mr. Swift
had taken up a temporary residence.
"Don't begin worrying, Mr. Swift," advised Mrs. Baggert, the
housekeeper. "You've got too much to do, if you get that new boat done,
to worry."
"That's so. I must not worry. But I wish Tom and Mr. Sharp would land,
for I want to talk to them."
As if the occupants of the airship had heard the words of the aged
inventor, they headed their craft toward earth. The combined aeroplane
and dirigible balloon, a most wonderful traveler of the air, swung
around, and then, with the deflection rudders slanted downward, came on
with a rush. When near the landing place, just at the side of the
house, the motor was stopped, and the gas, with a hissing noise, rushed
into the red aluminum container. This immediately made the ship more
buoyant and it landed almost as gently as a feather.
No sooner had the wheels which formed the lower part of the craft
touched the ground than there leaped from the cabin of the Red Cloud a
young man.
"Well, dad!" he exclaimed. "Here we are again, safe and sound. Made a
record, too. Touched ninety miles an hour at times--didn't we, Mr.
Sharp?"
"That's what," agreed a tall, thin, dark-complexioned man, who followed
Tom Swift more leisurely in his exit from the cabin. Mr. Sharp, a
veteran aeronaut, stopped to fasten guy ropes from the airship to
strong stakes driven into the ground.
"And we'd have done better, only we struck a hard wind against us about
two miles up in the air, which delayed us," went on Tom. "Did you hear
us coming, dad?"
"Yes, and it startled him," put in Mrs. Baggert. "I guess he wasn't
expecting you."
"Oh, well, I shouldn't have been so alarmed, only I was thinking deeply
about a certain change I am going to make in the submarine, Tom. I was
day-dreaming, I think, when your ship whizzed through the air. But tell
me, did you find everything all right at Shopton? No signs of any of
those scoundrels of the Happy Harry gang having been around?" and Mr.
Swift looked anxiously at his son.
"Not a sign, dad," replied Tom quickly. "Everything was all right. We
brought the things you wanted. They're in the airship. Oh, but it was a
fine trip. I'd like to take another right out to sea."
"Not now, Tom," said his father. "I want you to help me. And I need
Mr. Sharp's help, too. Get the things out of the car, and we'll go to
the shop."
"First I think we'd better put the airship away," advised Mr. Sharp. "I
don't just like the looks of the weather, and, besides, if we leave the
ship exposed we'll be sure to have a crowd around sooner or later, and
we don't want that."
"No, indeed," remarked the aged inventor hastily. "I don't want people
prying around the submarine shed. By all means put the airship away,
and then come into the shop."
In spite of its great size the aeroplane was easily wheeled along by
Tom and Mr. Sharp, for the gas in the container made it so buoyant that
it barely touched the earth. A little more of the powerful vapor and
the Red Cloud would have risen by itself. In a few minutes the
wonderful craft, of which my readers have been told in detail in a
previous volume, was safely housed in a large tent, which was securely
fastened.
Mr. Sharp and Tom, carrying some bundles which they had taken from the
car, or cabin, of the craft, went toward a large shed, which adjoined
the house that Mr. Swift had hired for the season at the seashore. They
found the lad's father standing before a great shape, which loomed up
dimly in the semi-darkness of the building. It was like an immense
cylinder, pointed at either end, and here and there were openings,
covered with thick glass, like immense, bulging eyes. From the number
of tools and machinery all about the place, and from the appearance of
the great cylinder itself, it was easy to see that it was only partly
completed.
"Well, how goes it, dad?" asked the youth, as he deposited his bundle
on a bench. "Do you think you can make it work?"
"I think so, Tom. The positive and negative plates are giving me
considerable trouble, though. But I guess we can solve the problem. Did
you bring me the galvanometer?"
"Yes, and all the other things," and the young inventor proceeded to
take the articles from the bundles he carried.
Mr. Swift looked them over carefully, while Tom walked about examining
the submarine, for such was the queer craft that was contained in the
shed. He noted that some progress had been made on it since he had
left the seacoast several days before to make a trip to Shopton, in New
York State, where the Swift home was located, after some tools and
apparatus that his father wanted to obtain from his workshop there.
"You and Mr. Jackson have put on several new plates," observed the lad
after a pause.
"Yes," admitted his father. "Garret and I weren't idle, were we,
Garret?" and he nodded to the aged engineer, who had been in his employ
for many years.
"No; and I guess we'll soon have her in the water, Tom, now that you
and Mr. Sharp are here to help us," replied Garret Jackson.
"We ought to have Mr. Damon here to bless the submarine and his liver
and collar buttons a few times," put in Mr. Sharp, who brought in
another bundle. He referred to an eccentric individual who had recently
made an airship voyage with himself and Tom, Mr. Damon's peculiarity
being to use continually such expressions as: "Bless my soul! Bless my
liver!"
"Well, I'll be glad when we can make a trial trip," went on Tom. "I've
traveled pretty fast on land with my motorcycle, and we certainly have
hummed through the air. Now I want to see how it feels to scoot along
under water."
"Well, if everything goes well we'll be in position to make a trial
trip inside of a month," remarked the aged inventor. "Look here, Mr.
Sharp, I made a change in the steering gear, which I'd like you and Tom
to consider."
The three walked around to the rear of the odd-looking structure, if an
object shaped like a cigar can be said to have a front and rear, and
the inventor, his son, and the aeronaut were soon deep in a discussion
of the technicalities connected with under-water navigation.
A little later they went into the house, in response to a summons from
the supper bell, vigorously rung by Mrs. Baggert. She was not fond of
waiting with meals, and even the most serious problem of mechanics was,
in her estimation, as nothing compared with having the soup get cold,
or the possibility of not having the meat done to a turn.
The meal was interspersed with remarks about the recent airship flight
of Tom and Mr. Sharp, and discussions about the new submarine. This
talk went on even after the table was cleared off and the three had
adjourned to the sitting-room. There Mr. Swift brought out pencil and
paper, and soon he and Mr. Sharp were engrossed in calculating the
pressure per square inch of sea water at a depth of three miles.
"Do you intend to go as deep as that?" asked Tom, looking up from a
paper he was reading.
"Possibly," replied his father; and his son resumed his perusal of the
sheet.
"Now," went on the inventor to the aeronaut, "I have another plan. In
addition to the positive and negative plates which will form our motive
power, I am going to install forward and aft propellers, to use in case
of accident."
"I say, dad! Did you see this?" suddenly exclaimed Tom, getting up from
his chair, and holding his finger on a certain place in the page of the
paper.
"Did I see what?" asked Mr. Swift.
"Why, this account of the sinking of the treasure ship."
"Treasure ship? No. Where?"
"Listen," went on Tom. "I'll read it: 'Further advices from Montevideo,
Uruguay, South America, state that all hope has been given up of
recovering the steamship Boldero, which foundered and went down off
that coast in the recent gale. Not only has all hope been abandoned of
raising the vessel, but it is feared that no part of the three hundred
thousand dollars in gold bullion which she carried will ever be
recovered. Expert divers who were taken to the scene of the wreck state
that the depth of water, and the many currents existing there, due to a
submerged shoal, preclude any possibility of getting at the hull. The
bullion, it is believed, was to have been used to further the interests
of a certain revolutionary faction, but it seems likely that they will
have to look elsewhere for the sinews of war. Besides the bullion the
ship also carried several cases of rifles, it is stated, and other
valuable cargo. The crew and what few passengers the Boldero carried
were, contrary to the first reports, all saved by taking to the boats.
It appears that some of the ship's plates were sprung by the stress in
which she labored in a storm, and she filled and sank gradually.'
There! what do you think of that, dad?" cried Tom as he finished.
"What do I think of it? Why, I think it's too bad for the
revolutionists, Tom, of course."
"No; I mean about the treasure being still on board the ship. What
about that?"
"Well, it's likely to stay there, if the divers can't get at it. Now,
Mr. Sharp, about the propellers--"
"Wait, dad!" cried Tom earnestly.
"Why, Tom, what's the matter?" asked Mr. Swift in some surprise.
"How soon before we can finish our submarine?" went on Tom, not
answering the question.
"About a month. Why?"
"Why? Dad, why can't we have a try for that treasure? It ought to be
comparatively easy to find that sunken ship off the coast of Uruguay.
In our submarine we can get close up to it, and in the new diving suits
you invented we can get at that gold bullion. Three hundred thousand
dollars! Think of it, dad! Three hundred thousand dollars! We could
easily claim all of it, since the owners have abandoned it, but we
would be satisfied with half. Let's hurry up, finish the submarine, and
have a try for it."
"But, Tom, you forget that I am to enter my new ship in the trials for
the prize offered by the United States Government."
"How much is the prize if you win it?" asked Tom.
"Fifty thousand dollars."
"Well, here's a chance to make three times that much at least, and
maybe more. Dad, let the Government prize go, and try for the treasure.
Will you?"
Tom looked eagerly at his father, his eyes shining with anticipation.
Mr. Swift was not a quick thinker, but the idea his son had proposed
made an impression on him. He reached out his hand for the paper in
which the young inventor had seen the account of the sunken treasure.
Slowly he read it through. Then he passed it to Mr. Sharp.
"What do you think of it?" he asked of the aeronaut.
"There's a possibility," remarked the balloonist "We might try for it.
We can easily go three miles down, and it doesn't lie as deeply as
that, if this account is true. Yes, we might try for it. But we'd have
to omit the Government contests."
"Will you, dad?" asked Tom again.
Mr. Swift considered a moment longer.
"Yes, Tom, I will," he finally decided. "Going after the treasure will
be likely to afford us a better test of the submarine than would any
Government tests. We'll try to locate the sunken Boldero."
"Hurrah!" cried the lad, taking the paper from Mr. Sharp and waving it
in the air. "That's the stuff! Now for a search for the submarine
treasure!"
Chapter Two
Finishing the Submarine
"What's the matter?" cried Mrs. Baggert, the housekeeper, hurrying in
from the kitchen, where she was washing the dishes. "Have you seen some
of those scoundrels who robbed you, Mr. Swift? If you have, the police
down here ought to--"
"No, it's nothing like that," explained Mr. Swift. "Tom has merely
discovered in the paper an account of a sunken treasure ship, and he
wants us to go after it, down under the ocean."
"Oh, dear! Some more of Captain Kidd's hidden hoard, I suppose?"
ventured the housekeeper. "Don't you bother with it, Mr. Swift. I had a
cousin once, and he got set in the notion that he knew where that
pirate's treasure was. He spent all the money he had and all he could
borrow digging for it, and he never found a penny. Don't waste your
time on such foolishness. It's bad enough to be building airships and
submarines without going after treasure." Mrs. Baggert spoke with the
freedom of an old friend rather than a hired housekeeper, but she had
been in the family ever since Tom's mother died, when he was a baby,
and she had many privileges.
"Oh, this isn't any of Kidd's treasure," Tom assured her. "If we get
it, Mrs. Baggert, I'll buy you a diamond ring."
"Humph!" she exclaimed, as Tom began to hug her in boyish fashion. "I
guess I'll have to buy all the diamond rings I want, if I have to
depend on your treasure for them," and she went back to the kitchen.
"Well," went on Mr. Swift after a pause, "if we are going into the
treasure-hunting business, Tom, we'll have to get right to work. In the
first place, we must find out more about this ship, and just where it
was sunk."
"I can do that part," said Mr. Sharp. "I know some sea captains, and
they can put me on the track of locating the exact spot. In fact, it
might not be a bad idea to take an expert navigator with us. I can
manage in the air all right, but I confess that working out a location
under water is beyond me."
"Yes, an old sea captain wouldn't be a bad idea, by any means,"
conceded Mr. Swift. "Well, if you'll attend to that detail, Mr. Sharp,
Tom, Mr. Jackson and I will finish the submarine. Most of the work is
done, however, and it only remains to install the engine and motors.
Now, in regard to the negative and positive electric plates, I'd like
your opinion, Tom."
For Tom Swift was an inventor, second in ability only to his father,
and his advice was often sought by his parent on matters of electrical
construction, for the lad had made a specialty of that branch of
science.
While father and son were deep in a discussion of the apparatus of the
submarine, there will be an opportunity to make the reader a little
better acquainted with them. Those of you who have read the previous
volumes of this series do not need to be told who Tom Swift is. Others,
however, may be glad to have a proper introduction to him.
Tom Swift lived with his father, Barton Swift, in the village of
Shopton, New York. The Swift home was on the outskirts of the town, and
the large house was surrounded by a number of machine shops, in which
father and son, aided by Garret Jackson, the engineer, did their
experimental and constructive work. Their house was not far from Lake
Carlopa, a fairly large body of water, on which Tom often speeded his
motor-boat.
In the first volume of this series, entitled "Tom Swift and His
Motor-Cycle," it was told how he became acquainted with Mr. Wakefield
Damon, who suffered an accident while riding one of the speedy
machines. The accident disgusted Mr. Damon with motor-cycles, and Tom
secured it for a low price. He had many adventures on it, chief among
which was being knocked senseless and robbed of a valuable patent model
belonging to his father, which he was taking to Albany. The attack was
committed by a gang known as the Happy Harry gang, who were acting at
the instigation of a syndicate of rich men, who wanted to secure
control of a certain patent turbine engine which Mr. Swift had invented.
Tom set out in pursuit of the thieves, after recovering from their
attack, and had a strenuous time before he located them.
In the second volume, entitled "Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat," there
was related our hero's adventures in a fine craft which was recovered
from the thieves and sold at auction. There was a mystery connected
with the boat, and for a long time Tom could not solve it. He was
aided, however, by his chum, Ned Newton, who worked in the Shopton
Bank, and also by Mr. Damon and Eradicate Sampson, an aged
whitewasher, who formed quite an attachment for Tom.
In his motor-boat Tom had more than one race with Andy Foger, a rich
lad of Shopton, who was a sort of bully. He had red hair and squinty
eyes, and was as mean in character as he was in looks. He and his
cronies, Sam Snedecker and Pete Bailey, made trouble for Tom, chiefly
because Tom managed to beat Andy twice in boat races.
It was while in his motor-boat, Arrow, that Tom formed the acquaintance
of John Sharp, a veteran balloonist. While coming down Lake Carlopa on
the way to the Swift home, which had been entered by thieves, Tom, his
father and Ned Newton, saw a balloon on fire over the lake. Hanging
from a trapeze on it was Mr. Sharp, who had made an ascension from a
fair ground. By hard work on the part of Tom and his friends the
aeronaut was saved, and took up his residence with the Swifts.
His advent was most auspicious, for Tom and his father were then
engaged in perfecting an airship, and Mr. Sharp was able to lend them
his skill, so that the craft was soon constructed.
In the third volume, called "Tom Swift and His Airship," there was set
down the doings of the young inventor, Mr. Sharp and Mr. Damon on a
trip above the clouds. They undertook it merely for pleasure, but they
encountered considerable danger, before they completed it, for they
nearly fell into a blazing forest once, and were later fired at by a
crowd of excited people. This last act was to effect their capture, for
they were taken for a gang of bank robbers, and this was due directly
to Andy Foger.
The morning after Tom and his friends started on their trip in the air,
the Shopton Bank was found to have been looted of seventy-five thousand
dollars. Andy Foger at once told the police that Tom Swift had taken
the money, and when asked how he knew this, he said he had seen Tom
hanging around the bank the night before the vault was burst open, and
that the young inventor had some burglar tools in his possession.
Warrants were at once sworn out for Tom and Mr. Damon, who was also
accused of being one of the robbers, and a reward of five thousand
dollars was offered.
Tom, Mr. Damon and Mr. Sharp sailed on, all unaware of this, and unable
to account for being fired upon, until they accidentally read in the
paper an account of their supposed misdeeds. They lost no time in
starting back home, and on the way got on the track of the real bank
robbers, who were members of the Happy Harry gang.
How the robbers were captured in an exciting raid, how Tom recovered
most of the stolen money, and how he gave Andy Foger a deserved
thrashing for giving a false clue was told of, and there was an account
of a race in which the Red Cloud (as the airship was called) took part,
as well as details of how Tom and his friends secured the reward, which
Andy Foger hoped to collect.
Those of you who care to know how the Red Cloud was constructed, and
how she behaved in the air, even during accidents and when struck by
lightning, may learn by reading the third volume, for the airship was
one of the most successful ever constructed.
When the craft was finished, and the navigators were ready to start on
their first long trip, Mr. Swift was asked to go with them. He
declined, but would not tell why, until Tom, pressing him for an
answer, learned that his father was planning a submarine boat, which he
hoped to enter in some trials for Government prizes. Mr. Swift remained
at home to work on this submarine, while his son and Mr. Sharp were
sailing above the clouds.
On their return, however, and after the bank mystery had been cleared
up, Tom and Mr. Sharp, aided Mr. Swift in completing the submarine,
until, when the present story opens, it needed but little additional
work to make the craft ready for the water.
Of course it had to be built near the sea, as it would have been
impossible to transport it overland from Shopton. So, before the keel
was laid, Mr. Swift rented a large cottage at a seaside place on the
New Jersey coast and there, after erecting a large shed, the work on
the Advance, as the under-water ship was called, was begun.
It was soon to be launched in a large creek that extended in from the
ocean and had plenty of water at high tide. Tom and Mr. Sharp made
several trips back and forth from Shopton in their airship, to see that
all was safe at home and occasionally to get needed tools and supplies
from the shops, for not all the apparatus could be moved from Shopton
to the coast.
It was when returning from one of these trips that Tom brought with him
the paper containing an account of the wreck of the Boldero and the
sinking of the treasure she carried.
Until late that night the three fortune-hunters discussed various
matters.
"We'll hurry work on the ship," said Mr. Swift at length. "Tom, I
wonder if your friend, Mr. Damon, would care to try how it seems under
water? He stood the air trip fairly well."
"I'll write and ask him," answered the lad. "I'm sure he'll go."
Securing, a few days later, the assistance of two mechanics, whom he
knew he could trust, for as yet the construction of the Advance was a
secret, Mr. Swift prepared to rush work on the submarine, and for the
next three weeks there were busy times in the shed next to the seaside
cottage. So busy, in fact, were Tom and Mr. Sharp, that they only found
opportunity for one trip in the airship, and that was to get some
supplies from the shops at home.
"Well," remarked Mr. Swift one night, at the close of a hard day's
work, "another week will see our craft completed. Then we will put it
in the water and see how it floats, and whether it submerges as I hope
it does. But come on, Tom. I want to lock up. I'm very tired to-night."
"All right, dad," answered the young inventor coming from the darkened
rear of the shop. "I just want to--"
He paused suddenly, and appeared to be listening. Then he moved softly
back to where he had come from.
"What's | 2,211.145961 |
2023-11-16 18:53:55.2399070 | 471 | 14 |
Produced by Charlene Taylor, Paul Clark, Larry B. Harrison
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible.
Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.
UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE
FARMERS' BULLETIN
WASHINGTON, D. C. 670 JUNE 3, 1915.
Contribution from the Bureau of Biological Survey, Henry W. Henshaw,
Chief.
FIELD MICE AS FARM AND ORCHARD PESTS.
By D. E. LANTZ, _Assistant Biologist_.
NOTE.--This bulletin describes the habits, geographic
distribution, and methods of destroying meadow mice and pine mice,
and discusses the value of protecting their natural enemies among
mammals, birds, and reptiles. It is for general distribution.
INTRODUCTION.
The ravages of short-tailed field mice in many parts of the United
States result in serious losses to farmers, orchardists, and those
concerned with the conservation of our forests, and the problem of
controlling the animals is one of considerable importance.
Short-tailed field mice are commonly known as meadow mice, pine mice,
and voles; locally as bear mice, buck-tailed mice, or black mice.
The term includes a large number of closely related species widely
distributed in the Northern Hemisphere. Over 50 species and races occur
within the United States and nearly 40 other forms have been described
from North America. Old World forms are fully as numerous. For the
purposes of this paper no attempt at classification is required, but
two general groups will be considered under the names meadow mice and
pine mice. These two groups have well-marked differences in habits,
and both are serious pests wherever they inhabit regions of cultivated
crops. Under the term "meadow mice"[1] are included the many species of
voles that live chiefly in surface runways and build both subterranean
and surface nests. Under the term "pine mice"[2] are included a few
forms that, like moles, live | 2,211.259947 |
2023-11-16 18:53:55.4254630 | 1,264 | 10 |
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Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
Transcriber's Note
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. A list of corrections
is found at the end of the text. Inconsistencies in spelling and
hyphenation have been maintained. A list of inconsistently spelled
and hyphenated words is found at the end of the text. Oe ligatures have
been expanded.
Text surrounded with ~ was printed in Greek in the original book. Text
surrounded with = was originally printed in a black-letter typeface.
The following codes are used for characters that are not found in the
character set used for this version of the book.
*.* Asterism
[Rx] Rx symbol
# Pilcrow
_Harper's Stereotype Edition._
THE
COOK'S ORACLE;
AND
HOUSEKEEPER'S MANUAL.
CONTAINING
=Receipts for Cookery,=
AND
DIRECTIONS FOR CARVING.
ALSO,
THE ART OF COMPOSING THE MOST SIMPLE AND MOST HIGHLY FINISHED
BROTHS, GRAVIES, SOUPS, SAUCES, STORE SAUCES, AND FLAVOURING
ESSENCES; PASTRY, PRESERVES, PUDDINGS, PICKLES, &c.
WITH
A COMPLETE SYSTEM OF COOKERY
FOR CATHOLIC FAMILIES.
THE QUANTITY OF EACH ARTICLE IS ACCURATELY STATED BY WEIGHT AND
MEASURE; BEING THE RESULT OF ACTUAL EXPERIMENTS
INSTITUTED IN THE KITCHEN OF
WILLIAM KITCHINER, M.D.
ADAPTED TO THE AMERICAN PUBLIC
BY A MEDICAL GENTLEMAN.
FROM THE LAST LONDON EDITION.
=New-York:=
_PRINTED BY J. & J. HARPER, 82 CLIFF-ST._
SOLD BY COLLINS AND HANNAY, COLLINS AND CO., G. AND C. AND H. CARVILL,
WILLIAM B. GILLEY, E. BLISS, O. A. ROORBACH, WHITE, GALLAHER, AND WHITE,
C. S. FRANCIS, WILLIAM BURGESS, JR., AND N. B. HOLMES;--PHILADELPHIA,
E. L. CAREY AND A. HART, AND JOHN GRIGG;--ALBANY, O. STEELE, AND W. C.
LITTLE.
1830.
SOUTHERN DISTRICT OF NEW-YORK, _ss._
BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the 20th day of November, A. D. 1829, in the
fifty-fourth year of the independence of the United States of America,
J. & J. HARPER, of the said district, have deposited in this office the
title of a book, the right whereof they claim as Proprietors, in the
words following, to wit:
"The Cook's Oracle, and Housekeeper's Manual, Containing Receipts for
Cookery, and Directions for Carving; also the Art of Composing the most
simple and most highly finished Broths, Gravies, Soups, Sauces, Store
Sauces, and Flavouring Essences; Pastry, Preserves, Puddings, Pickles,
&c. With a Complete System of Cookery for Catholic Families. The
Quantity of each Article is accurately stated by Weight and Measure;
being the Result of Actual Experiments instituted in the Kitchen of
William Kitchiner, M.D. Adapted to the American Public by a Medical
Gentleman."
In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States, entitled "An
Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of maps,
charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during
the time therein mentioned." And also to an Act, entitled "An Act,
supplementary to an Act, entitled an Act for the encouragement of
Learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the
authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein
mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing,
engraving, and etching historical and other prints."
FREDERICK I. BETTS,
_Clerk of the Southern District of New-York._
ADVERTISEMENT.
The publishers have now the pleasure of presenting to the American
public, Dr. Kitchiner's justly celebrated work, entitled "The Cook's
Oracle, and Housekeeper's Manual," with numerous and valuable
improvements, by a medical gentleman of this city.
The work contains a store of valuable information, which, it is
confidently believed, will not only prove highly advantageous to young
and inexperienced housekeepers, but also to more experienced matrons--to
all, indeed, who are desirous of enjoying, in the highest degree, the
good things which Nature has so abundantly bestowed upon us.
The "Cook's Oracle" has been adjudged, by connoisseurs in this country
and in Great Britain, to contain the best possible instructions on the
subject of serving up, beautifully and economically, the productions of
the water, land, and air, in such a manner as to render them most
pleasant to the eye, and agreeable to the palate.
Numerous notices, in commendation of the work, might be selected from
respectable European journals; but the mere fact, that within twelve
years, seventy thousand copies of it have been purchased by the English
public, is sufficient evidence of its reception and merits.
NEW-YORK, _December, 1829 | 2,211.445503 |
2023-11-16 18:53:55.4272170 | 225 | 67 |
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available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 58523-h.htm or 58523-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/58523/58523-h/58523-h.htm)
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(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/58523/58523-h.zip)
Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/reminiscencesofp00pryoiala
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
[Illustration: GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE ON "TRAVELLER."
_From a photograph by Miley, Lexington, Va._]
REMINISCENCES OF PEACE AND WAR
by
MRS. ROGER A | 2,211.447257 |
2023-11-16 18:53:55.4884540 | 6,176 | 17 |
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Internet Archive.)
THE RISE OF RAIL-POWER
IN WAR AND CONQUEST
1833-1914
THE
RISE OF RAIL-POWER
IN WAR AND CONQUEST
1833-1914
WITH A BIBLIOGRAPHY
BY
EDWIN A. PRATT
Author of "A History of Inland Transport,"
"Railways and their Rates," etc.
LONDON
P. S. KING & SON, LTD.
ORCHARD HOUSE
WESTMINSTER
1915
CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE
I A NEW FACTOR 1
II RAILWAYS IN THE CIVIL WAR 14
III RAILWAY DESTRUCTION IN WAR 26
IV CONTROL OF RAILWAYS IN WAR 40
V PROTECTION OF RAILWAYS IN WAR 54
VI TROOPS AND SUPPLIES 62
VII ARMOURED TRAINS 67
VIII RAILWAY AMBULANCE TRANSPORT 81
IX PREPARATION IN PEACE FOR WAR 98
X ORGANISATION IN GERMANY 103
XI RAILWAY TROOPS IN GERMANY 122
XII FRANCE AND THE WAR OF 1870-71 138
XIII ORGANISATION IN FRANCE 149
XIV ORGANISATION IN ENGLAND 175
XV MILITARY RAILWAYS 205
XVI RAILWAYS IN THE BOER WAR 232
XVII THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR 260
XVIII STRATEGICAL RAILWAYS: GERMANY 277
XIX A GERMAN-AFRICAN EMPIRE 296
XX DESIGNS ON ASIATIC TURKEY 331
XXI SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS 345
APPENDIX
INDIAN FRONTIER RAILWAYS 357
THE DEFENCE OF AUSTRALIA 368
BIBLIOGRAPHY 376
INDEX 398
PREFATORY NOTE.
The extent to which railways are being used in the present War of the
Nations has taken quite by surprise a world whose military historians,
in their accounts of what armies have done or have failed to do on the
battle-field in the past, have too often disregarded such matters of
detail as to how the armies got there and the possible effect of good or
defective transport conditions, including the maintenance of supplies
and communications, on the whole course of a campaign.
In the gigantic struggle now proceeding, these matters of detail are
found to be of transcendant importance. The part which railways are
playing in the struggle has, indeed--in keeping with the magnitude of
the struggle itself--assumed proportions unexampled in history. Whilst
this is so it is, nevertheless, a remarkable fact that although much has
been said as to the conditions of military unpreparedness in which the
outbreak of hostilities in August, 1914, found the Allies, there has, so
far as I am aware, been no suggestion of any inability on the part of
the railways to meet, at once, from the very moment war was declared,
all the requirements of military transport. In this respect, indeed, the
organisation, the preparedness, and the efficiency throughout alike of
the British and of the French railways have been fully equal to those of
the German railways themselves.
As regards British conditions, especially, much interest attaches to
some remarks made by Sir Charles Owens, formerly General Manager of
the London and South Western Railway Company, in the course of an
address delivered by him to students of the London School of Economics
on October 12, 1914. He told how, some five or six years ago, he had
met at a social function the Secretary of State for War, who, after
dinner, took him aside and asked, "Do you think in any emergency which
might arise in this country the railways would be able to cope with it
adequately?" To this question Sir Charles replied, "I will stake my
reputation as a railway man that the country could not concentrate men
and materials half so fast as the railways could deal with them; but the
management of the railways must be left in the hands of railway men."
We have here an affirmation and a proviso. That the affirmation was
warranted has been abundantly proved by what the British railways have
accomplished in the emergency that has arisen. The special significance
of the proviso will be understood in the light of what I record in the
present work concerning the control of railways in war.
Taking the railways of all the countries, whether friends or foes,
concerned in the present World-War, and assuming, for the sake of
argument, that all, without exception, have accomplished marvels in the
way of military transport, one must, nevertheless, bear in mind two
important considerations:--
(1) That, apart from the huge proportions of the scale upon which,
in the aggregate, the railways are being required to serve military
purposes, the present conflict, in spite of its magnitude, has thus far
produced no absolutely new factor in the employment of railways for war
except as regards the use of air-craft for their destruction.
(2) That when hostilities were declared in August, 1914, the subject
of the employment of railways for the purposes of war had already been
under the consideration of railway and military experts in different
countries for no fewer than eighty years, during which period, and
as the result of vast study, much experience, and many blunders in
or between wars in various parts of the world, there had been slowly
evolved certain fixed principles and, also, subject to constant
amendments, a recognised and comprehensive organisation which, accepted
more or less completely by the leading nations, with modifications to
suit their national circumstances and conditions, was designed to meet
all contingencies, to provide, as far as human foresight could suggest,
for all possible difficulties, and be capable of application instantly
the need for it might arise.
The time has not yet come for telling all that the railways have thus
far done during the war which has still to be fought out. That story, in
the words of a railway man concerned therein, is at present "a sealed
book." Meanwhile, however, it is desirable that the position as defined
in the second of the two considerations given above should be fully
realised, in order that what the railways and, so far as they have
been aided by them, the combatants, have accomplished or are likely to
accomplish may be better understood when the sealed book becomes an open
one.
If, as suggested at the outset, the world has already been taken by
surprise even by what the railways are known to have done, it may be
still more surprised to learn (as the present work will show) that
the construction of railways for strategical purposes was advocated
in Germany as early as 1833; that in 1842 a scheme was elaborated for
covering Germany with a network of strategical railways which, while
serving the entire country, would more especially allow of war being
conducted on two fronts--France and Russia--at the same time; and that
in the same year (1842) attention was already being called in the French
Chamber to the "aggressive lines" which Germany was building in the
direction of France, while predictions were also being made that any new
invasion of France by Germany would be between Metz and Strasburg.
If, again, it is found that a good deal of space is devoted in the
present work to the War of Secession, criticism may, perhaps, be
disarmed by the explanation that the American Civil War was practically
the beginning of things as regards the scientific use of railways for
war, and that many of the problems connected therewith were either
started in the United States or were actually worked out there,
precedents being established and examples being set which the rest of
the world had simply to follow, adapt or perfect. The possibility of
carrying on warfare at a great distance from the base of supplies by
means of even a single line of single-track railway; the creation of
an organised corps for the restoration, operation or destruction of
railways; the control of railways in war by the railway or the military
interests independently or jointly; the question as to when the railway
could be used to advantage and when it would be better for the troops
to march; the use of armoured trains; the evolution of the ambulance or
the hospital train--all these, and many other matters besides, are to
be traced back to the American Civil War of 1861-65, and are dealt with
herein at what, it is hoped, will be found not undue length.
As for the building up of the subsequent organisation in
Europe--Germany, France and England being the countries selected
for special treatment in relation thereto--this, also, has had to
be described with some regard for detail; and, incidentally, it is
shown (1) that the alleged perfection of Germany's arrangements when
she went to war with France in 1870-71 is merely one of the fictions
of history, so far as her military rail-transport was concerned; (2)
that France learned the bitter lesson taught her by the deplorable and
undeniable imperfections of her own transport system--or no-system--on
that occasion, and at once set about the creation of what was to become
an organisation of the most complete and comprehensive character; and
(3) that the "beginning of things" in England, in the way of employing
railways for the purposes of war, was the direct outcome of the
conditions of semi-panic created here in 1859 by what was regarded as
the prospect of an early invasion of this country by France, coupled
with the then recognised deficiencies of our means of national defence.
Military railways, as employed in the Crimean War, the Abyssinian
Campaign, the Franco-German War, the Russo-Turkish War and the Sudan
are described; a detailed account is given of the use of railways in
the Boer War and the Russo-Japanese War; and this is followed by a
description of the strategical railways constructed in Germany for the
purpose of facilitating war on the possessions of her neighbours.
Chapters XIX and XX deal with the building of railways which,
whether avowedly strategical or what I have described as
"economic-political-strategical," are intended to effect the purposes
of conquest, with or without the accompaniment of war. The former of
these two chapters, which shows how, with the help of railways, Germany
proposed to transform the African continent into an African Empire of
her own, should be found deserving of notice, and especially so in view
of the statements quoted (p. 311) as having been made by German officers
in what was then German South-West Africa, to the effect that the main
objective of Germany in going to war would be the conquest of Africa,
"the smashing up of France and Great Britain" being regarded only as
"incidents" which, followed by seizure of the possessions of the smaller
Powers, would make Germany the supreme Power in Africa, and lead to the
whole African continent becoming a German possession.
From Chapter XX the reader will learn how Germany proposed to employ
railways for the furthering of her aims against, not only Asiatic
Turkey, but Egypt and India, as well.
The subsidiary articles on "Indian Frontier Railways" and "The Defence
of Australia" have no direct bearing on that _evolution_ of rail-power
in warfare with which it is the special purpose of the present volume
to deal; but in the belief that they are of interest and importance in
themselves, from the point of view of the general question, they have
been given in an Appendix. The difficulties and other conditions under
which the Sind-Pishin State Railway, designed to serve strategical
purposes, was built to the frontiers of Afghanistan are unexampled in
the history either of railways or of war. As regards Australia, the
gravity of the position there was well indicated by Lord Kitchener when
he wrote of the lines running inland that they were "of little use for
defence, although possibly of considerable value to an enemy who would
have temporary command of the sea."
At the end of the volume there is a Bibliography of books, pamphlets
and review or other articles relating to the use of railways for the
purposes of war. In the first instance this compilation was based on
a "List of References" prepared by the American Bureau of Railway
Economics; but, while many items on that list have here been omitted, a
considerable number of others have been inserted from other sources. The
Bibliography is not offered as being in any way complete, but it may,
nevertheless, be of advantage to students desirous of making further
researches into the matters of history here specially treated.
The assistance rendered in other ways by the American Bureau of Railway
Economics in the preparation of the present work has been most helpful.
In the writing of the chapters concerning German designs on Africa, Asia
Minor, etc., the resources of the well-arranged and admirably-indexed
library of the Royal Colonial Institute have been of great service. I
have, also, to express cordial acknowledgments to the General Managers
and other officers of various leading railway companies for information
given respecting the organisation of railways in this country for
military purposes.
EDWIN A. PRATT.
_November, 1915._
The Rise of Rail-Power in War and Conquest
CHAPTER I
A NEW FACTOR
While the original purpose of railways was to promote the arts of
peace, the wide scope of their possibilities in the direction, also, of
furthering the arts of war began to be realised at a very early date
after their success in the former capacity had been assured in Great
Britain.
Already the canal system had introduced an innovation which greatly
impressed the British public. In December, 1806, a considerable body of
troops went by barge on the Paddington Canal from London to Liverpool,
_en route_ for Dublin, relays of fresh horses for the canal boats being
provided at all the stages in order to facilitate the transport; and in
referring to this event _The Times_ of December 19, 1806, remarked:--"By
this mode of conveyance the men will be only seven days in reaching
Liverpool, and with comparatively little fatigue, as it would take them
above fourteen days to march that distance."
But when, on the opening of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, in
1830, a British regiment was conveyed thereon, in two hours, a journey
of thirty-four miles, which they would have required two days to
accomplish on foot, far-seeing men became still more impressed, and
began to realise that there had, indeed, been introduced a new factor
destined to exercise a powerful influence on the future conduct of war.
The geographical position of the United Kingdom led, in those early
days, to greater importance being attached to the conveniences of
railways as a means of transport than to their actual strategical and
tactical advantages; and the issue by the War Office, in 1846, of a
"Regulation Relative to the Conveyance of Her Majesty's Forces, their
Baggage and Stores, by Rail," may have appeared to meet the requirements
of the immediate situation, so far as this country was concerned.
On the Continent of Europe, however, the rivalry of nations divided from
one another only by a more or less uncertain or varying frontier, and
still powerfully influenced by the recollection of recent conflicts,
resulted in much greater attention being paid to the possibilities of
the new development.
The first definite proposals for the use of railways for strategical
purposes were advanced, as early as 1833, by Friedrich Wilhelm Harkort,
a Westphalian worthy who came to be better known in his native land
as "Der alte Harkort." A participant in the Napoleonic wars, he had
subsequently shown great energy and enterprise in the development of
steam engines, hydraulic presses, iron-making, and other important
industries in Germany; he had been the first writer in that country to
give an account--as he did in 1825--of the progress England was making
in respect to railways and steamships; and he had, in 1826, placed a
working model of a railway in the garden of the Elberfeld Museum. These
various efforts he followed up, in 1833, by bringing forward in the
Westphalian Landtag a scheme for the building of a railway to connect
the Weser and the Lippe. Later in the same year he published "Die
Eisenbahn von Minden nach Koeln," in which he laid special stress on the
value to Germany of the proposed line from a military point of view.
With the help of such a railway, he argued, it would be possible to
concentrate large bodies of troops at a given point much more speedily
than if they marched by road; he made calculations as to what the actual
saving in time, as well as in physical strain, would be in transporting
Prussian troops from various specified centres to others; and he
proceeded:--
Let us suppose that we had a railway and a telegraph line
on the right bank of the Rhine, from Mainz to Wesel. Any
crossing of the Rhine by the French would then scarcely be
possible, since we should be able to bring a strong defensive
force on the spot before the attempt could be developed.
These things may appear very strange to-day; yet in the womb
of the future there slumbers the seed of great developments in
railways, the results of which it is, as yet, quite beyond our
powers to foresee.
Harkort's proposals gave rise to much vigorous controversy in Germany.
The official classes condemned as "nonsensical fancies" his ideas, not
only as to the usefulness of railways for the conveyance of troops, but,
also, as to the utility of railways for any practical purposes whatever;
and contemporary newspapers and periodicals, in turn, made him the butt
of their ridicule.
The pros and cons of the use of railways for military purposes were,
none the less, actively discussed in numerous pamphlets and treatises.
Just as, in France, General Rumigny, adjutant to Louis-Philippe, had
already foreshadowed the possibility of a sudden invasion by a German
army reaching the frontier by rail, so, also, in Germany, in the words
of one writer at this period, "anxious spirits shudder at the thought
that, some fine spring morning, a hundred thousand Frenchmen, thirsting
for war, will suddenly invade our peaceful valleys at bird-like speed,
thanks to the new means of locomotion, and begin their old game (_das
alte Spiel_) over again." On the other hand there were military
sceptics--such as the author of a pamphlet "Uber die Militaerische
Benutzung der Eisenbahnen" (Berlin, 1836)--who, basing their
calculations on locomotive performances up to that date, asserted that,
although the railway might be of service in the conveyance of supplies,
guns and ammunition, it would be of no advantage in the transport of
troops. These, they declared, would get to their destination sooner if
they marched.[1]
The most noticeable of the various publications issued in Germany at
this period was a book by Carl Eduard Poenitz ("Pz."), which appeared
at Adorf, Saxony, in 1842, under the title of "Die Eisenbahnen
als militaerische Operationslinien betrachtet, und durch Beispiele
erlauetert." The writer of this remarkable book (of which a second
edition was issued in 1853) gave a comprehensive survey of the whole
situation in regard to railways and war, so far as the subject could
be dealt with in the light of railway developments and of actual
experiences of troop movements by rail down to that time; and he argued
strongly in favour of the advantages to be derived from the employment
of railways for military purposes. He even suggested that, in the event
of an inadequate supply of locomotives, or of operations having to be
conducted in a mountainous country where locomotives could not be used
for heavy traffic, the troops might still use their own horses to draw
the coaches and wagons along the railway lines, so that the men would
arrive fresh and fit for immediate fighting at the end of their journey.
Describing railways as the most powerful vehicle for the advancement of
"Kultur" since the invention of printing, Poenitz showed how Belgium and
Saxony were the two countries which had taken the initiative in railway
construction on the Continent of Europe; and his references to the
former country are especially deserving of being recalled, in view of
recent events. He pointed to the good example which had been set by the
"far-sighted and energetic" King of the Belgians, and continued:--
Although, in a land torn asunder by revolutionary factions,
many wounds were still bleeding; and although the newly-created
kingdom was threatened by foes within and without and could
organise means of resistance only with great difficulty, there
was, nevertheless, taken in hand a scheme for the construction
of a network of railways designed to extend over the entire
country, while at the present moment the greater part of
that scheme has, in fact, been carried out. In this way King
Leopold has raised up for himself a memorial the full value
and significance of which may, perhaps, be appreciated only by
generations yet to come.
While Belgium was thus shown to have been setting a good example, the
only railways which Prussia then had in actual operation (apart from
the Berlin-Stettin and the Berlin-Breslau lines, which had been begun,
and others which had been projected) were the Berlin-Potsdam and the
Berlin-Magdeburg-Leipzig lines; though Saxony had the Leipzig-Dresden
line, and Bavaria the Nueremberg-Fuerth and the Munich-Augsburg lines.
Poenitz, however, excused the backwardness of Prussia on the ground
that if her Government had refused, for a long time, to sanction
various projected railways, or had imposed heavy obligations in
regard to them, such action was due, not to prejudice, but to "a wise
foresight"--meaning, presumably, that Prussia was waiting to profit by
the experience that other countries were gaining at their own cost.
Having dealt with all the arguments he could advance in favour of the
general principle of employing railways for military purposes, Poenitz
proceeded to elaborate a scheme for the construction of a network of
strategical lines serving the whole of Germany, though intended, more
especially, to protect her frontiers against attack by either France
or Russia. Without, he said, being in the secrets of international
politics, he thought he might safely presume that Germany's only fear of
attack was from one of these two directions; and, although the relations
of the Great Powers of Europe were then peaceful, a continuance of those
conditions could not, of course, be guaranteed. So, he proceeded--
We have to look to these two fronts; and, if we want
to avoid the risk of heavy losses at the outset, we needs
must--also at the outset--be prepared to meet the enemy there
with an overwhelming force. Every one knows that the strength of
an army is multiplied by movements which are rapid in themselves
and allow of the troops arriving at the end of their journey
without fatigue.
In a powerful appeal--based on motives alike of patriotism, of national
defence and of economic advantage--that his fellow-countrymen should
support the scheme he thus put forward, Poenitz once more pointed to
Belgium, saying:--
The youngest of all the European States has given us an
example of what can be done by intelligence and good will.
The network of Belgian railways will be of as much advantage
in advancing the industries of that country as it will be in
facilitating the defence of the land against attack by France.
It will increase alike Belgium's prosperity and Belgium's
security. And we Germans, who place so high a value on our
intelligence, and are scarcely yet inclined to recognise the
political independence of the Belgian people, shall we remain so
blind as not to see what is needed for our own safety?
Poenitz could not, of course, anticipate in 1842 that the time would
come when his country, acting to the full on the advice he was then
giving, would have her strategic railways, not only to the French and
the Russian, but, also, to the Belgian frontier, and would use those in
the last-mentioned direction to crush remorselessly the little nation
concerning which he himself was using words of such generous sympathy
and approbation.
The ideas and proposals put forward by Poenitz (of whose work a French
translation, under the title of "Essai sur les Chemins de Fer,
consideres commes lignes d'operations militaires," was published by L.
A. Unger in Paris, in 1844) did much to stimulate the discussion of the
general question, while the military authorities of Germany were moved
to make investigations into it on their own account, there being issued
in Berlin, about 1848 or 1850, a "Survey of the Traffic and Equipment of
German and of neighbouring foreign Railways for military purposes, based
on information collected by the Great General Staff."[2]
In France, also, there were those who, quite early in the days of the
new means of transport, predicted the important service it was likely to
render for the purposes of war no less than for those of peace.
General Lamarque declared in the French Chamber of Deputies in 1832, or
1833, that the strategical use of railways would lead to "a revolution
in military science as great as that which had been brought about by the
use of gunpowder."
At the sitting of the Chamber on May 25, 1833, M. de Berigny, in urging
the "incontestable" importance of railways, said:--
From the point of view of national defence, what advantages
do they not present! An army, with all its material, could, in a
few days, be transported from the north to the south, from the
east to the west, of France. If a country could thus speedily
carry considerable masses of troops to any given point on its
frontiers, would it not become invincible, and would it not,
also, be in a position to effect great economies in its military
expenditure?
In a further debate on June 8, 1837, M. Dufaure declared that railways
had a greater mission to fulfil than that of offering facilities to
industry or than that of conferring benefits on private interests. Was
it a matter of no account, he asked, that they should be able in one
night to send troops to all the frontiers of France, from Paris to
the banks of the Rhine, from Lyons to the foot of the Alps, with an
assurance of their arriving fresh and ready for combat?
Then, in 1842, M. Marschall, advocating the construction of a line from
Paris to Strasburg, predicted that any new invasion of France by Germany
would most probably be attempted between Metz and Strasburg. He further
said:--
It is there that the German Confederation is converging
a formidable system of railways from Cologne, Mayence and
Mannheim.... Twenty-four hours will suffice for our neighbours
to concentrate on the Rhine the forces of Prussia, Austria and
the Confederation, and on the morrow an army of 400,000 | 2,211.508494 |
2023-11-16 18:53:55.5355730 | 2,925 | 8 |
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AVATARAS
FOUR LECTURES DELIVERED AT THE TWENTY-FOURTH
ANNIVERSARY MEETING OF THE
THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY AT ADYAR,
MADRAS, DECEMBER, 1899
BY
ANNIE BESANT
_ENGLISH EDITION_
Theosophical Publishing Society
3 Langham Place, London, W.
1900
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
PAGE
LECTURE I.--
WHAT IS AN AVATARA? 7
LECTURE II.--
THE SOURCE OF AND NEED FOR AVATARAS 31
LECTURE III.--
SOME SPECIAL AVATARAS 65
LECTURE IV.--
SHRI KRISHNA 95
* * * * *
AVATARAS.
FIRST LECTURE.
BROTHERS:--Every time that we come here together to study the
fundamental truths of all religions, I cannot but feel how vast is the
subject, how small the expounder, how mighty the horizon that opens
before our thoughts, how narrow the words which strive to sketch it for
your eyes. Year after year we meet, time after time we strive to fathom
some of those great mysteries of life, of the Self, which form the only
subject really worthy of the profoundest thought of man. All else is
passing; all else is transient; all else is but the toy of a moment.
Fame and power, wealth and science--all that is in this world below is
as nothing beside the grandeur of the Eternal Self in the universe and
in man, one in all His manifold manifestations, marvellous and beautiful
in every form that He puts forth. And this year, of all the
manifestations of the Supreme, we are going to dare to study the holiest
of the holiest, those manifestations of God in the world in which He
shows Himself as divine, coming to help the world that He has made,
shining forth in His essential nature, the form but a thin film which
scarce veils the Divinity from our eyes. How then shall we venture to
approach it, how shall we dare to study it, save with deepest reverence,
with profoundest humility; for if there needs for the study of His works
patience, reverence and humbleness of heart, what when we study Him
whose works but partially reveal Him, when we try to understand what is
meant by an Avatara, what is the meaning, what the purpose of such a
revelation?
Our President has truly said that in all the faiths of the world there
is belief in such manifestations, and that ancient maxim as to
truth--that which is as the hall mark on the silver showing that the
metal is pure--that ancient maxim is here valid, that whatever has been
believed everywhere, whatever has been believed at every time, and by
every one, that is true, that is reality. Religions quarrel over many
details; men dispute over many propositions; but where human heart and
human voice speak a single word, there you have the mark of truth, there
you have the sign of spiritual reality. But in dealing with the subject
one difficulty faces us, faces you as hearers, faces myself as speaker.
In every religion in modern times truth is shorn of her full
proportions; the intellect alone cannot grasp the many aspects of the
one truth. So we have school after school, philosophy after philosophy,
each one showing an aspect of truth, and ignoring, or even denying, the
other aspects which are equally true. Nor is this all; as the age in
which we are passes on from century to century, from millennium to
millennium, knowledge becomes dimmer, spiritual insight becomes rarer,
those who repeat far out-number those who know; and those who speak with
clear vision of the spiritual verity are lost amidst the crowds, who
only hold traditions whose origin they fail to understand. The priest
and the prophet, to use two well-known words, have ever in later times
come into conflict one with the other. The priest carries on the
traditions of antiquity; too often he has lost the knowledge that made
them real. The prophet--coming forth from time to time with the divine
word hot as fire on his lips--speaks out the ancient truth and
illuminates tradition. But they who cling to the words of tradition are
apt to be blinded by the light of the fire and to call out "heretic"
against the one who speaks the truth that they have lost. Therefore, in
religion after religion, when some great teacher has arisen, there have
been opposition, clamour, rejection, because the truth he spoke was too
mighty to be narrowed within the limits of half-blinded men. And in such
a subject as we are to study to-day, certain grooves have been made,
certain ruts as it were, in which the human mind is running, and I know
that in laying before you the occult truth, I must needs, at some
points, come into clash with details of a tradition that is rather
repeated by memory than either understood or the truths beneath it
grasped. Pardon me then, my brothers, if in a speech on this great topic
I should sometimes come athwart some of the dividing lines of different
schools of Hindu thought; I may not, I dare not, narrow the truth I have
learnt, to suit the limitations that have grown up by the ignorance of
ages, nor make that which is the spiritual verity conform to the empty
traditions that are left in the faiths of the world. By the duty laid
upon me by the Master that I serve, by the truth that He has bidden me
speak in the ears of men of all the faiths that are in this modern
world; by these I must tell you what is true, no matter whether or not
you agree with it for the moment; for the truth that is spoken wins
submission afterwards, if not at the moment; and any one who speaks of
the Rishis of antiquity must speak the truths that they taught in
their days, and not repeat the mere commonplaces of commentators of
modern times and the petty orthodoxies that ring us in on every side and
divide man from man.
I propose in order to simplify this great subject to divide it under
certain heads. I propose first to remind you of the two great divisions
recognised by all who have thought on the subject; then to take up
especially, for this morning, the question, "What is an Avatara?"
To-morrow we shall put and strive to answer, partly at least, the
question, "Who is the source of Avataras?" Then later we shall take up
special Avataras both of the kosmos and of human races. Thus I hope to
place before you a clear, definite succession of ideas on this great
subject, not asking you to believe them because I speak them, not asking
you to accept them because I utter them. Your reason is the bar to which
every truth must come which is true for you; and you err deeply, almost
fatally, if you let the voice of authority impose itself where you do
not answer to the speaking. Every truth is only true to you as you see
it, and as it illuminates the mind; and truth however true is not yet
truth for you, unless your heart opens out to receive it, as the flower
opens out its heart to receive the rays of the morning sun.
First, then, let us take a statement that men of every religion will
accept. Divine manifestations of a special kind take place from time to
time as the need arises for their appearance; and these special
manifestations are marked out from the universal manifestation of God in
His kosmos; for never forget that in the lowest creature that crawls the
earth I'shvara is present as in the highest Deva. But there are certain
special manifestations marked out from this general self-revelation in
the kosmos, and it is these special manifestations which are called
forth by special needs. Two words especially have been used in Hinduism,
marking a certain distinction in the nature of the manifestation--one
the word "Avatara," the other the word "A'vesha." Only for a moment
need we stop on the meaning of the words, important to us because the
literal meaning of the words points to the fundamental difference
between the two. The word "Avatara," as you know, has as its root
"tri," passing over, and with the prefix which is added, the "ava,"
you get the idea of descent, one who descends. That is the literal
meaning of the word. The other word has as its root "vish,"
permeating, penetrating, pervading, and you have there the thought of
something which is permeated or penetrated. So that while in the one
case, Avatara, there is the thought of a descent from above, from
I'shvara to man or animal; in the other, there is rather the idea of an
entity already existing who is influenced, permeated, pervaded by the
divine power, specially illuminated as it were. And thus we have a kind
of intermediate step, if one may say so, between the divine
manifestation in the Avatara and in the kosmos--the partial divine
manifestation in one who is permeated by the influence of the Supreme,
or of some other being who practically dominates the individual, the Ego
who is thus permeated.
Now what are the occasions which lead to these great manifestations?
None can speak with mightier authority on this point than He who came
Himself as an Avatara just before the beginning of our own age, the
Divine Lord Shri Krishna Himself. Turn to that marvellous poem,
the _Bhagavad-Gita_, to the fourth Adhyaya, Shlokas 7 and 8; there He
tells us what draws Him forth to birth into His world in the manifested
form of the Supreme:
[Sanskrit:
yadA yadAhidharmasya GlAnirBavati BArata |
aByutthAnamadharmasya tadAtmAnaM sRujAmyaham ||
paritrANAya sAdhUnAm vinAsAyacaduShkRutAm ||
dharmasaMsdhApanArthAya saMBavAmi yuge yuge ||]
"When Dharma,--righteousness, law--decays, when
Adharma--unrighteousness, lawlessness--is exalted, then I Myself come
forth: for the protection of the good, for the destruction of the evil,
for the establishing firmly of Dharma, I am born from age to age." That
is what He tells us of the coming forth of the Avatara. That is, the
needs of His world call upon Him to manifest Himself in His divine
power; and we know from other of His sayings that in addition to those
which deal with the human needs, there are certain kosmic necessities
which in the earlier ages of the world's story called forth special
manifestations. When in the great wheel of evolution another turn round
has to be given, when some new form, new type of life is coming forth,
then also the Supreme reveals Himself, embodying the type which thus He
initiates in His kosmos, and in this way turning that everlasting wheel
which He comes forth as I'shvara to turn. Such then, speaking quite
generally, the meaning of the word, and the object of the coming.
From that we may fitly turn to the more special question, "What is an
Avatara?" And it is here that I must ask your close attention, nay, your
patient consideration, where points that to some extent may be
unfamiliar are laid before you; for as I said, it is the occult view of
the truth which I am going to partially unveil, and those who have not
thus studied truth need to think carefully ere they reject, need to
consider long ere they refuse. We shall see as we try to answer the
question how far the great authorities help us to understand, and how
far the lack of knowledge in reading those authorities has led to
misconception. You may remember that the late learned T. Subba Rao in
the lectures that he gave on the _Bhagavad-Gita_ put to you a certain
view of the Avatara, that it was a descent of I'shvara--or, as he said,
using the theosophical term, the Logos, which is only the Greek name for
I'shvara--a descent of I'shvara, uniting Himself with a human soul. With
all respect for the profound learning of the lamented pandit, I cannot
but think that that is only a partial definition. Probably he did not at
that time desire, had not very possibly the time, to deal with case
after case, having so wide a field to cover in the small number of
lectures that he gave, and he therefore chose out one form, as we may
say, of self-revelation, leaving untouched the others, which now in
dealing with the subject | 2,211.555613 |
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THE STORY OF THE MUNSTERS
THE STORY OF
THE MUNSTERS
AT
ETREUX, FESTUBERT,
RUE DU BOIS AND
HULLOCH
BY
MRS. VICTOR RICKARD
AUTHOR OF "DREGS," "THE LIGHT ABOVE THE CROSSROADS,"
"THE FRANTIC BOAST," "THE FIRE OF GREEN BOUGHS"
_WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY_
LORD DUNRAVEN
_Honorary Colonel, 5th Royal Munster Fusiliers_
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO
MCMXVIII
DEDICATED TO
VICTOR RICKARD
AND HIS COMRADES IN ALL RANKS OF THE
MUNSTER FUSILIERS, WHO FOUGHT AND FELL
IN THE GREAT WAR, 1914-15
* * * * *
"One who never turned his back but marched breast forward,
Never doubted clouds would break,
Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph,
Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake."
* * * * *
The shamrock, which forms part of the cap badge of the Royal Munster
Fusiliers, was first introduced, in February 1915, by Lieut.-Colonel
Rickard, in the Second Battalion, with the object of giving a
distinctively Irish emblem to all ranks of the Regiment. It is now worn
by all the battalions of the Munsters.
PREFACE
I should like to express my thanks to the officers of the Royal Munster
Fusiliers, and also to the friends and relatives who have helped me
to collect and arrange this book. In the following accounts of the
engagements of Etreux, Festubert, Rue du Bois and Hulloch, I do not
wish in any sense to appear as an historian; that task awaits far abler
and more qualified hands. What follows has been threaded together as a
little tribute to the men who gave their lives for an Ideal, and who
were brave soldiers in the Great War.
The first three chapters of this book appeared in _New Ireland_ during
the summer of 1915, and were shortly afterwards republished by that
paper, together with the supplementary letters, as _The Story of the
Munsters_. A second impression was sold out by the end of the year,
since when no copies of the book have been obtainable. The new features
of the present edition are the historical Introduction specially
written by Lord Dunraven, to whom my best thanks are due, and the four
pictures and the account of the Munsters at Hulloch which have already
appeared in _The Sphere_. Its Editor, Mr. Clement Shorter, has a
special claim to the lasting gratitude of the Munster Fusiliers for the
deep interest he has always shown in all records of the Regiment; and
it is by his permission that the illustrations, which add incalculably
to the slender story itself, are here reproduced. My thanks are also
offered to Mr. Geddes, who has designed the colour plate on the cover,
and brought into the book a sense of the traditions which surround the
regimental flags.
L. RICKARD.
INTRODUCTION
The origin of the Royal Munster Fusiliers, like that of those other
great Irish Regiments, the Dublins and the Leinsters, is inextricably
bound up with those great movements of Imperial expansion which took
place in the eighteenth century. Of the Leinsters one battalion
was originally raised in Canada and another in India. Both regular
battalions of the Dublins were raised in India. Like them, the
1st and 2nd Battalions of the Royal Munsters (before the Caldwell
reconstruction the 101st and | 2,212.121322 |
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Produced by Annie R. McGuire
[Illustration: HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE]
* * * * *
VOL. III.--NO. 132. PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. PRICE FOUR
CENTS.
Tuesday, May 9, 1882. Copyright, 1882, by HARPER & BROTHERS. $1.50 per
Year, in Advance.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
MR. STUBBS'S BROTHER.[1]
[1] Begun in No. 127, HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE.
BY JAMES OTIS,
AUTHOR OF "TOBY TYLER," "TIM AND TIP," ETC.
CHAPTER VI.
OLD BEN.
Toby watched anxiously as each wagon came up, but he failed to recognize
any of the drivers. For the first time it occurred to him that perhaps
those whom he knew were no longer with this particular company, and his
delight gave way to sadness.
Fully twenty wagons had come, and he had just begun to think his fears
had good foundation, when in the distance he saw the well-remembered
monkey wagon, with the burly form of old Ben on the box.
Toby could not wait for that particular team to come up, even though it
was driven at a reasonably rapid speed; but he started toward it as fast
as he could run. After him, something like the tail of a comet, followed
all his friends, who, having come so far, were determined not to lose
sight of him for a single instant, if it could be prevented by any
exertion on their part. Old Ben was driving in a sleepy sort of way, and
paid no attention to the little fellow who was running toward him, until
Toby shouted. Then the horses were stopped with a jerk that nearly threw
them back on their haunches.
"Well, Toby my son, I declare I am glad to see you;" and old Ben reached
down for the double purpose of shaking hands and helping the boy up to
the seat beside him. "Well, well, well, it's been some time since you've
been on this 'ere box, ain't it? I'd kinder forgotten what town it was
we took you from; I knew it was somewhere hereabouts, though, an' I've
kept my eye peeled for you ever since we've been in this part of the
country. So you found your uncle Dan'l all right, did you?"
"Yes, Ben, an' he was awful good to me when I got home; but Mr. Stubbs
got shot."
"No? you don't tell me! How did that happen?"
Then Toby told the story of his pet's death, and although it had
occurred a year before, he could not keep the tears from his eyes as he
spoke of it.
"You mustn't feel bad 'bout it, Toby," said Ben, consolingly, "for, you
see, monkeys has got to die jest like folks, an' your Stubbs was sich a
old feller that I reckon he'd have died anyhow before long. But I've got
one in the wagon here that looks a good deal like yours, an' I'll show
him to you."
As Ben spoke, he drew his wagon, now completely surrounded by boys, up
by the side of the road near the others, and opened the panel in the top
so that Toby could have a view of his passengers.
Curled up in the corner nearest the roof, where Mr. Stubbs had been in
the habit of sitting, Toby saw, as Ben had said, a monkey that looked
remarkably like Mr. Stubbs, save that he was younger and not so sedate.
Toby uttered an exclamation of surprise and joy as he pushed his hand
through the bars of the cage, and the monkey shook hands with him as Mr.
Stubbs used to do when greeted in the morning.
"Why, I never knew before that Mr. Stubbs had any relations!" said Toby,
looking around with joy imprinted on every feature. "Do you know where
the rest of the family is, Ben?"
There was no reply from the driver for some time; but instead, Toby
heard certain familiar sounds as if the old man were choking, while his
face took on the purplish tinge which had so alarmed the boy when he saw
it for the first time.
"No, I don't know where his family is," said Ben, after he had recovered
from his spasm of silent laughter, "an' I reckon he don't know nor care.
Say, Toby, you don't really think this one is any relation to your
monkey, do you?"
"Why, it must be his brother," said Toby, earnestly, "'cause they look
so much alike; but perhaps Mr. Stubbs was only his cousin."
Old Ben relapsed into another spasm, and Toby talked to the monkey, who
chattered back at him, until the boys on the ground were in a perfect
ferment of anxiety to know what was going on.
It was some time before Toby could be persuaded to pay attention to
anything else, so engrossed was he with Mr. Stubbs's brother, as he
persisted in calling the monkey, and the only way Ben could engage him
in conversation was by saying:
"You don't seem to be very much afraid of Job Lord now."
"You won't let him take me away if he should try, will you?" Toby asked,
quickly, alarmed at the very mention of his former employer's name, even
though he had thought he would not be afraid of him, protected as he now
was by Uncle Daniel.
"No, Toby, I wouldn't let him if he was to try it on, for you are just
where every boy ought to be, an' that's at home; but Job's where he
can't whip any more boys for some time to come."
"Where's that?"
"He's in jail. About a month after you left he licked his new boy so bad
that they arrested him, an' he got two years for it, 'cause it pretty
nigh made a <DW36> out of the youngster."
Toby was about to make some reply; but Ben continued unfolding his
budget of news.
"Castle staid with us till the season was over, an' then he went out
West. I don't know whether he got his hair cut trying to show the Injuns
how to ride, or not; but he never come back, an' nobody I ever saw has
heard anything about him."
"Are Mr. and Mrs. Treat with the show?"
"Yes, they're still here; he's a leetle thinner, I believe, an' she's
twenty pound heavier. She says she weighs fifty pounds more'n she did;
but I don't believe that, even if she did strike for five dollars more a
week this season on the strength of it, an' get it. They keep right on
cookin' up dinners, an' invitin' of folks in, an' the skeleton gets
choked about the same as when you was with the show. I don't know how it
is that a feller so thin as Treat is can eat so much."
"Uncle Dan'l says it's 'cause he works so hard to get full," said Toby,
quietly; "an' I shouldn't wonder if I grew as thin as the skeleton one
of these days, for I eat jest as awful much as I used to."
"Well, you look as if you got about all you needed, at any rate," said
Ben, as he mentally compared the plump boy at his side with the thin,
frightened-looking one who had run away from the circus with his monkey
on his shoulder and his bundle under his arm.
"Is Ella here?" asked Toby, after a pause, during which it seemed as if
he were thinking of much the same thing that Ben was.
"Yes, an' she 'keeps talkin' about what big cards you an' her would have
been if you had only staid with the show. But I'm glad you had pluck
enough to run away, Toby, for a life like this ain't no fit one for
boys."
"And I was glad to get back to Uncle Dan'l," said Toby, with a great
deal of emphasis. "I wouldn't go away, without he wanted me to, if I
could go with a circus seven times as large as this. Do you suppose
young Stubbs would act bad if I was to take him for a walk?"
"Who?" asked Ben, looking down at the crowd of boys with no slight show
of perplexity.
"Mr. Stubbs's brother," and Toby motioned to the door of the cage. "I'd
like to take him up in my arms, cause it would seem so much like it used
to before his brother died."
Ben was seized with one of the very worst laughing spasms Toby had ever
seen, and there was every danger that he would roll off the seat before
he could control himself; but he did recover after a time, and as the
purple hue slowly receded from his face, he said:
"I'll tell you what we'll do, Toby. You come to the tent when the
afternoon performance is over, an' I'll fix it so's you shall see Mr.
Stubbs's brother as much as you want to."
Just then Toby remembered that Ben was to be his guest for a while that
day, and after explaining all Aunt Olive had done in the way of
preparing dainties, invited him to dinner.
"I'll come, Toby, because it's to see you an' them that has been good to
you," said Ben, slowly, and after quite a long pause: "but there ain't
anybody else I know of who could coax me out to dinner, for, you see,
rough fellows like me ain't fit to go around much, except among our own
kind. But say, Toby, your uncle Dan'l ain't right on his speech, is he?"
Toby looked so puzzled that Ben saw he had not been understood, and he
explained:
"I mean, he don't get up a dinner for the sake of havin' a chance to
make a speech, like the skeleton, does he, eh?"
"Oh no, Uncle Dan'l don't do that. I know you'll like him when you see
him."
"And I believe I shall, Toby," said Ben, speaking very seriously. "I'd
be sure to, because he's such a good uncle to you."
Just then the conversation was interrupted by the orders to prepare for
the parade; and as the manager drove up to see that everything was done
properly, he stopped to speak with and congratulate Toby on being at
home again, a condescension on his part that caused a lively feeling of
envy in the breasts of the other boys because they had not been so
honored.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
"WHAT DO THE <DW29>s THINK?"
BY MARY A. BARR.
What do the <DW29>s think, mamma,
When they first come in the spring?
Do they remember the robins,
And the songs they used to sing?
When the butterflies come again,
I wonder if they will say,
"We are ever so glad to see you,
And won't you sit down and stay?"
Will the <DW29>s tell the butterflies
How the snow lay white and deep,
And how beneath it, safe and warm,
They had such a pleasant sleep?
Will the butterflies tell the <DW29>s
How they hid in their cradle bed,
And dreamed away the winter-time,
When people thought they were dead?
And will they talk of the weather,
Just as grown-up people do?
And wish the sun would always shine,
And the skies be always blue?
Speak of the lilies dressed in white,
And the daffodils | 2,212.217094 |
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MOTOR STORIES
THRILLING
ADVENTURE
MOTOR
FICTION
NO. 25
AUG. 14, 1909
FIVE
CENTS
MOTOR MATT'S
REVERSE
OR CAUGHT IN
A LOSING CAUSE
_BY THE AUTHOR
OF "MOTOR MATT"_
[Illustration: _"Are you hurt"? cried the girl,
as Motor Matt lifted himself
and looked toward her._]
STREET & SMITH
PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK
MOTOR STORIES
THRILLING ADVENTURE MOTOR FICTION
_Issued Weekly._ _By subscription $2.50 per year._ _Copyright, 1909,
by_ STREET & SMITH, _79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York, N. Y._
=No. 25.= NEW YORK, August 14, 1909. =Price Five Cents.=
MOTOR MATT'S REVERSE;
OR,
Caught in a Losing Cause.
By the author of "MOTOR MATT."
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. PLOTTERS THREE.
CHAPTER II. THE NEW AEROPLANE.
CHAPTER III. TREACHERY AND TRAGEDY.
CHAPTER IV. MURGATROYD'S FIRST MOVE.
CHAPTER V. A STARTLING PLAN.
CHAPTER VI. THE AIR LINE INTO TROUBLE.
CHAPTER VII. NOTHING DOING IN SYKESTOWN.
CHAPTER VIII. BROUGHT TO EARTH.
CHAPTER IX. THE COIL TIGHTENS.
CHAPTER X. THE DOOR IN THE HILLSIDE.
CHAPTER XI. A REVELATION FOR MATT.
CHAPTER XII. PECOS TAKES A CHANCE.
CHAPTER XIII. BESIEGED.
CHAPTER XIV. THE BROKER'S GAME.
CHAPTER XV. CANT PHILLIPS, DESERTER.
CHAPTER XVI. THE LOSING CAUSE.
THE DOCTOR'S RUSE.
STRANDED ON A CHIMNEY.
A SCRIMMAGE OF LIONS.
DREDGING FOR GOLD.
CHARACTERS THAT APPEAR IN THIS STORY.
=Matt King=, otherwise Motor Matt.
=Joe McGlory=, a young cowboy who proves himself a lad of worth and
character, and whose eccentricities are all on the humorous side. A
good chum to tie to--a point Motor Matt is quick to perceive.
=Ping Pong=, a Chinese boy who insists on working for Motor Matt, and
who contrives to make himself valuable, perhaps invaluable.
=Amos Murgatroyd=, an enemy of Motor Matt, and who cleverly
manipulates the various wires of a comprehensive plot only to find
that he has championed a losing cause.
=Amy=, Murgatroyd's niece, who helps right and justice, turning
against a relative in order to befriend a stranger.
=Siwash Charley=, a ruffianly assistant of Murgatroyd who proves to
be one Cant Phillips, a deserter from the army.
=Pecos Jones=, who has no principles worth mentioning, plays a double
part with friend and foe, and abruptly vanishes.
=Lieutenant Cameron=, an officer in the Signal Corps, U. S. A., who
proves to be the cousin of an old friend of Matt, and who nearly
loses his life when the aëroplane is tested.
CHAPTER I.
PLOTTERS THREE.
"There's no use talkin', Siwash," and Pecos Jones leaned disgustedly
back against the earth wall of the dugout; "he's got one o' these here
charmed lives, that feller has, and it ain't no manner o' use tryin' to
down him."
Siwash Charley was cramming tobacco into the bowl of a black pipe. He
halted operations long enough to give his companion an angry look out
from under his thick brows.
"Oh, ye're the limit, Pecos!" he grunted, drawing a match across the
top of the table and trailing the flame over the pipe bowl. "The cub's
human, an' I ain't never yet seen a human bein' that couldn't be
downed--purvidin' ye went about it right."
Pecos Jones scowled discontentedly.
"Then I opine," said he, "ye ain't got sense enough to know how to
go about it. That last attempt at Fort Totten wasn't nothin' more'n
a flash in the pan. What did ye accomplish, huh? Tell me that. Here
y' are, holed up in this dugout an' not darin' to show yer face where
it'll be seen an' reckernized. The sojers want ye, an' they want ye
bad. Ye come purty nigh doin' up a leftenant o' the army, an' that's
why the milingtary is on yer trail, but if they knowed as much o' yer
hist'ry as I do, they'd be arter ye a lot worse'n what they----"
"Stow it!" roared Siwash Charley, leaning toward his companion and
bringing a fist down on the table with force enough to make the flame
leap upward in the chimney of the tin lamp. "Ye'll hush arbout my past
hist'ry, Jones, or thar'll be doin's between you an' me."
The place where this conversation was going forward was a hole in the
hillside--an excavation consisting of a single room with a door and a
window in the front wall. A shelf of earth running around three walls
offered a place to sit, as well as a convenient ledge for the stowage
of food supplies and cooking utensils.
The window was darkened with a blanket, so that the light would not
shine through and acquaint any chance passers with the fact that the
interior of the hill was occupied.
Pecos Jones was a little ferret of a man. His face had "undesirable
citizen" written all over it.
Siwash Charley was larger, and on the principle that there can be more
villain in a large package than in a small one, Siwash was the more
undesirable of the two.
He banged the table and scowled so savagely that Pecos Jones pulled
himself together with a startled jerk. Before he could say anything,
however, a set of knuckles drummed on the door.
Pecos gasped, and stared in affright at Siwash. The latter muttered
under his breath, grabbed up a revolver that was lying on the table and
stepped to the door.
"Who's thar?" he demanded huskily.
"Murg," came a muffled reply from the other side of the door.
Siwash laughed, shoved a bolt, and pulled the door wide.
"Come in, Murg," said he. "I was sorter expectin' ye."
A smooth-faced man, wearing gauntlets, a long automobile coat, and with
goggles pushed up above the visor of his cap, stepped into the room. He
carried a rifle over his arm, and for a moment he stood blinking in the
yellow lamplight.
Siwash Charley closed the door.
"Got yer ottermobill fixin's on, eh?" said he, facing about after
the door had been bolted; "an' by jings, if ye ain't totin' of er
Winchester. Them fellers at Totten arter you, too, Murg?"
Murgatroyd's little, gimlet-like eyes were becoming used to the
lamplight. They shot a reproving glance at Siwash, then darted to Pecos
Jones.
"Who's that?" he asked curtly.
"Him?" chuckled Siwash. "Oh, he's the Artful Dodger. I reckon he does
more dodgin' across the international boundary line than ary other
feller in the Northwest. Whenever things git too hot fer Pecos Jones
in North Dakotay, he dodges inter Manitoby, and vicer verser. Hoss
stealin' is his line."
"Never stole a hoss in my life!" bridled Pecos Jones.
"Thunder!" snickered Siwash. "Why, I've helped ye."
"How does Pecos Jones happen to be here?" demanded Murgatroyd.
"He got ter know this place o' mine while we was workin' tergether.
Arter that flyin' machine was tried out at Fort Totten, o' course I had
ter <DW72> ter some quiet spot whar I could go inter retirement, an'
this ole hang-out nacherly suggested itself. When I blowed in hyer, lo!
an' behold, hyer was Pecos."
Murgatroyd appeared satisfied. Standing his rifle in one corner, he
pulled off his gauntlets and thrust them in his pockets, sat down on
the earth shelf, and hooked up one knee between his hands. For a while
he sat regarding Siwash reflectively.
"Is Pecos Jones known at Fort Totten?" he asked.
"Bet yer life I ain't," said Pecos for himself. "What's more," he
added, nibbling at a slab of tobacco, "I don't want ter be."
"He works mostly around Turtle Mounting," explained Siwash Charley.
"Why?"
"I think he can be useful to us," answered Murgatroyd. "Those other two
fellows who helped you at Totten--where are they, Siwash?"
"They was nigh skeered ter death, an' made a bee line fer Winnipeg."
"That was a bad bobble you made at Totten," resumed Murgatroyd. "Motor
Matt, in spite of you, put Traquair's aëroplane through its paces, met
the government's requirements in every particular, and the machine was
sold to the war department for fifteen thousand dollars."
"Things didn't work right," growled Siwash. "I tampered with that thar
machine the night before the trials--loosened bolts an' screws an'
filed through the wire guy ropes--but nothin' happened till the flyin'
machine was done sailin' an' ready ter come down; then that cub, Motor
Matt, got in some lightnin' headwork an' saved the machine, saved
himself, an' likewise that there Leftenant Cameron of the Signal Corps."
"The boy's got a charmed life, I tell ye," insisted Pecos Jones. "I've
heerd talk, up around Turtle Mounting, about what he's done."
"Think of a full-grown man like Pecos Jones talkin' that-a-way!"
exclaimed Siwash derisively.
"Motor Matt is clever," said Murgatroyd musingly, "and I made a mistake
in sizing him up. But there's a way to get him."
"What do you want to 'get' him fer?" inquired Pecos Jones.
Murgatroyd drew three gold pieces from his pocket and laid them in a
little stack on the table, just within the glint of the lamplight.
"Pecos Jones," said he, "Siwash, here, has vouched for you. In the
little game I'm about to play we need help. You can either take that
money and obey orders, or leave it and get out."
There was a silence, while Pecos eyed the gold greedily. After a
little reflection he brushed the coins from the table and dropped them
clinking into his pocket.
"I'm with ye," said he. "What's wanted?"
"That's the talk," approved Murgatroyd. "Our plans failed at the
aëroplane trials,[A] but I've got another scheme which I am sure will
win. You know, Siwash, and perhaps Pecos knows it as well, that Motor
Matt was demonstrating that aëroplane for Mrs. Traquair, who lives in
Jamestown. Motor Matt came meddling with the business which I had with
the woman, and the fifteen thousand, paid by the government for the
aëroplane, was divided between Mrs. Traquair and Matt. Half----"
[A] What Murgatroyd's plans were, and why they failed, was set forth in
No. 24 of the MOTOR STORIES, "Motor Matt on the Wing; or, Flying for
Fame and Fortune."
"We know all that," cut in Siwash.
"Well, then, here's something you don't know. Mrs. Traquair has a
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THE HISTORY
OF THE
FIRST WEST INDIA REGIMENT.
THE HISTORY
OF THE
FIRST WEST INDIA
REGIMENT.
BY
A.B. ELLIS,
_Major, First West India Regiment._
AUTHOR OF "WEST AFRICAN ISLANDS" AND "THE LAND OF FETISH".
London:
CHAPMAN AND HALL, LIMITED,
HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN.
1885.
CHARLES DICKENS AND EVANS,
CRYSTAL PALACE PRESS.
I beg to return my best thanks to A.E. HAVELOCK, Esq., C.M.G.
Administrator-in-Chief of the West African Settlements;
Lieutenant-Colonel F.B.P. WHITE, of the 1st West India Regiment; V.S.
GOULDSBURY, Esq., Administrator of the Gambia Settlements; A. YOUNG,
Esq., Lieutenant-Governor of Demerara; F. EVANS, Esq., C.M.G., Assistant
Colonial Secretary of the Gold Coast Colony; ALFRED KINGSTON, Esq., of
the Record Office; and RICHARD GARNETT, Esq., of the British Museum, for
the very valuable assistance which they have rendered me in the
collection of materials for this Work.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER I.
THE ACTION AT BRIAR CREEK, 1779--THE ACTION AT STONO
FERRY, 1779 26
CHAPTER II.
THE SIEGE OF SAVANNAH, 1779--THE SIEGE OF CHARLESTOWN,
1780--THE BATTLE OF HOBKERK'S HILL, 1781 33
CHAPTER III.
THE RELIEF OF NINETY-SIX, 1781--THE BATTLE OF EUTAW
SPRINGS, 1781--REMOVAL TO THE WEST INDIES 43
CHAPTER IV.
THE EXPEDITION TO MARTINIQUE, 1793--THE CAPTURE OF
MARTINIQUE, ST. LUCIA, AND GUADALOUPE, 1794--THE
DEFENCE OF FORT MATILDA, 1794 53
CHAPTER V.
MALCOLM'S ROYAL RANGERS--THE EVACUATION OF ST. LUCIA,
1795 63
CHAPTER VI.
THE CARIB WAR IN ST. VINCENT, 1795 69
CHAPTER VII.
MAJOR-GENERAL WHYTE'S REGIMENT OF FOOT, 1795 77
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CAPTURE OF ST. LUCIA, 1796 85
CHAPTER IX.
THE RELIEF OF GRENADA, 1796--THE REPULSE AT PORTO RICO,
1797 93
CHAPTER X.
THE DEFENCE OF DOMINICA, 1805 103
CHAPTER XI.
THE HURRICANE AT DOMINICA, 1806--THE REDUCTION OF ST.
THOMAS AND ST. CROIX, 1807--THE RELIEF OF MARIE-GALANTE,
1808 117
CHAPTER XII.
THE CAPTURE OF MARTINIQUE, 1809--THE CAPTURE OF GUADALOUPE,
1810 125
CHAPTER XIII.
THE EXPEDITION TO NEW ORLEANS, 1814-15 141
CHAPTER XIV.
THE OCCUPATION OF GUADALOUPE, 1815--THE BARBADOS INSURRECTION,
1816--THE HURRICANE OF 1817 160
CHAPTER XV.
THE DEMERARA REBELLION, 1823 170
CHAPTER XVI.
THE BARRA WAR, 1831--THE HURRICANE OF 1831--THE COBOLO
EXPEDITION, 1832 178
CHAPTER XVII.
THE MUTINY OF THE RECRUITS AT TRINIDAD, 1837 188
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PIRARA EXPEDITION, 1842--CHANGES IN THE WEST AFRICAN
GARRISONS--THE APPOLLONIA EXPEDITION, 1848 208
CHAPTER XIX.
INDIAN DISTURBANCES IN HONDURAS, 1848-49--THE ESCORT TO
COOMASSIE, 1848--THE SHERBRO EXPEDITION, 1849--THE
ESCORT TO RIO NUNEZ, 1850 218
CHAPTER XX.
THE STORMING OF SABBAJEE, 1853--THE RELIEF OF CHRISTIANSBORG,
1854 228
CHAPTER XXI.
THE TWO EXPEDITIONS TO MALAGEAH, 1854-55 236
CHAPTER XXII.
THE BATTLE OF BAKKOW, AND STORMING OF SABBAJEE, 1855 248
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHANGES IN THE WEST AFRICAN GARRISONS, 1856-57--THE
GREAT SCARCIES RIVER EXPEDITION, 1859--FIRE AT NASSAU,
1859 257
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE BADDIBOO WAR, 1860-61 265
CHAPTER XXV.
THE ASHANTI EXPEDITION, 1863-64 276
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE JAMAICA REBELLION, 1865 286
CHAPTER XXVII.
AFRICAN TOUR, 1866-70 298
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE DEFENCE OF ORANGE WALK, 1872 304
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE ASHANTI WAR, 1873-74 317
CHAPTER XXX.
AFFAIRS IN HONDURAS, 1874--THE SHERBRO EXPEDITION, 1875--THE
ASHANTI EXPEDITION, 1881 333
APPENDIX 343
INDEX 361
MAPS.
1. ST. VINCENT _facing page 69_
2. GRENADA " 93
3. DOMINICA " 103
4. MARTINIQUE " 125
5. GUADALOUPE " 133
6. THE GAMBIA SETTLEMENTS " 178
7. THE GOLD COAST " 215
8. BRITISH HONDURAS " 219
9. THE MELLICOURIE RIVER " 236
10. SWARRA CUNDA CREEK " 265
11. THE COUNTY OF SURREY, JAMAICA " 287
12. ORANGE WALK " 305
13. THE ROUTE TO COOMASSIE " 319
14. BRITISH SHERBRO " 337
THE HISTORY OF THE FIRST WEST INDIA REGIMENT.
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
At the present day, when our Continental neighbours are outvying each
other in the completeness of their military organisations and the size
of their armies, while in the United Kingdom complaints are daily heard
that the supply of recruits for the British Army is not equal to the
demand, it may not be out of place to draw the attention of the public
to a source from which the army may be most economically reinforced.
The principal difficulty experienced by military reformers in their
endeavours to remodel the British Army on the Continental system, is
that caused by the necessity of providing troops for the defence of our
vast and scattered Colonial Empire. Without taking into consideration
India, our European and North American possessions, a considerable
portion of the army has to be employed in furnishing garrisons for the
Cape Colony, Natal, Mauritius, St. Helena, the Bermudas, the West
Indies, Burmah, the Straits Settlements, Hong Kong, etc.; which
garrisons, though creating a constant drain on the Home Establishment,
are notoriously inadequate for the defence of the various colonies in
which they are placed; and the result is that, whenever a colonial war
breaks out, fresh battalions have to be hurriedly sent out from the
United Kingdom at immense expense, and the entire military machine is
temporarily disarranged.
In size, and in diversity of subject races, the British Empire may be
not inaptly compared with that of Rome in its palmiest days; and we
have, in a measure, adopted a Roman scheme for the defence of a portion
of our dominions. The Romans were accustomed, as each new territory was
conquered, to raise levies of troops from the subject race, and then,
most politicly, to send them to serve in distant parts of the Empire,
where they could have no sympathies with the inhabitants. In India we,
like the Romans, raise troops from the conquered peoples, but, unlike
them, we retain those troops for service in their own country. The
result of this attempt to modify the scheme was the Indian mutiny.
The plan of a local colonial army was, however, first tried in the West
Indies. At the close of the last century, when the West India Islands,
or the Plantations, as they were then called, were of as much importance
to, and held the same position in, the British Empire as India does
now, there was in existence a West India Army, consisting of twelve
battalions of <DW64> troops, raised exclusively for service in the West
Indies.
As India was gradually conquered, and the West India trade declined
(from the abolition of the slave trade and other causes), the West India
Colonies, by a regular process, fell from their former pre-eminent
position. Each step in the descent was marked by the disbandment of a
West India regiment, until, at the present day, two only remain in
existence; and it is a matter of common notoriety that those two are
principally preserved to garrison Sierra Leone, the Gold Coast Colony,
British Honduras, and British Guiana--colonies the climates of which,
experience has shown, are fatal to European soldiers, who are
necessarily in time of peace, from the nature of their duties, more
exposed to climatic influence than are officers. Economy was, of course,
the cause of this continued process of reduction, for, until recently,
such gigantic military establishments as those of Germany, Russia, and
France were unheard of; and Great Britain was satisfied, and felt
secure, with a miniature army, a paper militia, and no reserve. All this
is now changed, and the necessity of an increase in our defensive power
is admitted.
These <DW64> West India troops won the highest encomiums from every
British commander under whom they served. Sir Ralph Abercromby in 1796,
Sir John Moore in 1797, Lieutenant-General Trigge in 1801, Sir George
Provost in 1805, Lieutenant-General Beckwith and Major-General Maitland
in 1809 and 1810, all testified to the gallantry, steadiness, and
discipline of the <DW64> soldiers. Sir John Moore, speaking of the new
corps in 1796, said "they are invaluable," and "the very best troops for
the climate." To come to more recent times, in 1873 the 2nd West India
Regiment bore for six months the entire brunt of the Ashanti attack, and
had actually forced the invading army to retire across the Prah before
the men of a single line battalion were landed. In fact, the efficiency
of West India troops was, and is, unquestioned.
This being so, it may be asked, why should not the present number of
regiments composed of <DW64> soldiers be increased for the purpose of
garrisoning the colonies, especially those of which the climate is most
prejudicial to English soldiers? This would not be a return to the
former state of affairs, for when we had twelve <DW64> regiments they
were all stationed in the West Indies, whereas the essence of the
present scheme is to send them on service in other colonies. Such an
augmentation of our West India, or Zouave, regiments certainly appears
politic and easy. I will also endeavour to show that it would be
economical.
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THE ADVENTURES OF FERDINAND COUNT FATHOM
by Tobias Smollett
COMPLETE IN TWO PARTS
PART I.
With the Author's Preface, and an Introduction by G. H. Maynadier, Ph.D.
Department of English, Harvard University.
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
PREFATORY ADDRESS
CHAPTER
I Some sage Observations that naturally introduce our important
History
II A superficial View of our Hero's Infancy
III He is initiated in a Military Life, and has the good Fortune
to acquire a generous Patron
IV His Mother's Prowess and Death; together with some Instances
of his own Sagacity
V A brief Detail of his Education
VI He meditates Schemes of Importance
VII Engages in Partnership with a female Associate, in order to
put his Talents in Action
VIII Their first Attempt; with a Digression which some Readers
may think impertinent
IX The Confederates change their Battery, and achieve a remarkable
Adventure
X They proceed to levy Contributions with great Success, until
our Hero sets out with the young Count for Vienna, where he
enters into League with another Adventurer
XI Fathom makes various Efforts in the World of Gallantry
XII He effects a Lodgment in the House of a rich Jeweller
XIII He is exposed to a most perilous Incident in the Course of his
Intrigue with the Daughter
XIV He is reduced to a dreadful Dilemma, in consequence of an
Assignation with the Wife
XV But at length succeeds in his Attempt upon both
XVI His Success begets a blind Security, by which he is once again
well-nigh entrapped in his Dulcinea's Apartment
XVII The Step-dame's Suspicions being awakened, she lays a Snare
for our Adventurer, from which he is delivered by the
Interposition of his Good Genius
XVIII Our Hero departs from Vienna, and quits the Domain of Venus
for the rough Field of Mars
XIX He puts himself under the Guidance of his Associate, and
stumbles upon the French Camp, where he finishes his
Military Career
XX He prepares a Stratagem, but finds himself countermined--
Proceeds on his Journey, and is overtaken by a terrible
Tempest
XXI He falls upon Scylla, seeking to avoid Charybdis.
XXII He arrives at Paris, and is pleased with his Reception
XXIII Acquits himself with Address in a Nocturnal Riot
XXIV He overlooks the Advances of his Friends, and smarts severely
for his Neglect
XXV He bears his Fate like a Philosopher; and contracts
acquaintance with a very remarkable Personage
XXVI The History of the Noble Castilian
XXVII A flagrant Instance of Fathom's Virtue, in the Manner of his
Retreat to England
XXVIII Some Account of his Fellow-Travellers
XXIX Another providential Deliverance from the Effects of the
Smuggler's ingenious Conjecture
XXX The singular Manner of Fathom's Attack and Triumph over the
Virtue of the fair Elenor
XXXI He by accident encounters his old Friend, with whom he holds
a Conference, and renews a Treaty
XXXII He appears in the great World with universal Applause and
Admiration
XXXIII He attracts the Envy and Ill Offices of the minor Knights of
his own Order, over whom he obtains a complete Victory
XXXIV He performs another Exploit, that conveys a true Idea of his
Gratitude and Honour
XXXV He repairs to Bristol Spring, where he reigns paramount during
the whole Season
XXXVI He is smitten with the Charms of a Female Adventurer, whose
Allurements subject him to a new Vicissitude of Fortune
XXXVII Fresh Cause for exerting his Equanimity and Fortitude
XXXVIII The Biter is Bit
INTRODUCTION
The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom, Smollett's third novel, was
given to the world in 1753. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, writing to her
daughter, the Countess of Bute, over a year later [January 1st, 1755],
remarked that "my friend Smollett. . . has certainly a talent for
invention, though I think it flags a little in his last work." Lady Mary
was both right and wrong. The inventive power which we commonly think of
as Smollett's was the ability to work over his own experience into
realistic fiction. Of this, Ferdinand Count Fathom shows comparatively
little. It shows relatively little, too, of Smollett's vigorous
personality, which in his earlier works was present to give life and
interest to almost every chapter, were it to describe a street brawl, a
ludicrous situation, a whimsical character, or with venomous prejudice to
gibbet some enemy. This individuality--the peculiar spirit of the author
which can be felt rather than described--is present in the dedication of
Fathom to Doctor ------, who is no other than Smollett himself, and a
candid revelation of his character, by the way, this dedication contains.
It is present, too, in the opening chapters, which show, likewise, in the
picture of Fathom's mother, something of the author's peculiar "talent
for invention." Subsequently, however, there is no denying that the
Smollett invention and the Smollett spirit both flag. And yet, in a way,
Fathom displays more invention than any of the author's novels; it is
based far less than any other on personal experience. Unfortunately
such thorough-going invention was not suited to Smollett's genius. The
result is, that while uninteresting as a novel of contemporary manners,
Fathom has an interest of its own in that it reveals a new side of its
author. We think of Smollett, generally, as a rambling storyteller, a
rational, unromantic man of the world, who fills his pages with his own
oddly-metamorphosed acquaintances and experiences. The Smollett of Count
Fathom, on the contrary, is rather a forerunner of the romantic school,
who has created a tolerably organic tale of adventure out of his own
brain. Though this is notably less readable than the author's earlier
works, still the wonder is that when the man is so far "off his beat," he
should yet know so well how to meet the strange conditions which confront
him. To one whose idea of Smollett's genius is formed entirely by Random
and Pickle and Humphry Clinker, Ferdinand Count Fathom will offer many
surprises.
The first of these is the comparative lifelessness of the book. True,
here again are action and incident galore, but generally unaccompanied by
that rough Georgian hurly-burly, common in Smollett, which is so
interesting to contemplate from a comfortable distance, and which goes so
far towards making his fiction seem real. Nor are the characters, for
the most part, life-like enough to be interesting. There is an apparent
exception, to be sure, in the hero's mother, already mentioned, the
hardened camp-follower, whom we confidently expect to become vitalised
after the savage fashion of Smollett's characters. But, alas! we have no
chance to learn the lady's style of conversation, for the few words that
come from her lips are but partially characteristic; we have only too
little chance to learn her manners and customs. In the fourth chapter,
while she is making sure with her dagger that all those on the field of
battle whom she wishes to rifle are really dead, an officer of the
hussars, who has been watching her lucrative progress, unfeelingly puts a
brace of bullets into the lady's brain, just as she raises her hand to
smite him to the heart. Perhaps it is as well that she is thus removed
before our disappointment at the non-fulfilment of her promise becomes
poignant. So far as we may judge from the other personages of Count
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THE MENTOR 1918.11.01, No. 166,
Guynemer
LEARN ONE THING
EVERY DAY
NOVEMBER 1 1918 SERIAL NO. 166
THE
MENTOR
GUYNEMER
THE WINGÈD SWORD
OF FRANCE
By HOWARD W. COOK
DEPARTMENT OF VOLUME 6
BIOGRAPHY NUMBER 18
TWENTY CENTS A COPY
THE SKYMAN SUPREME
By Commandant Brocard, of the “Stork Squadron”
For more than two years all of us have seen him cleaving the heavens
above our heads, the heavens lighted up by shining sun or darkened by
lowering tempests, bearing upon his poor wings a part of our dreams,
of our faith in success, of all that our hearts held of confidence and
hope.
“Guyn | 2,213.204439 |
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Produced by Susan Skinner, Chris Curnow, Pamela Patten and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER
VOL. XX.--NO. 985.] NOVEMBER 12, 1898. [PRICE ONE PENNY.]
"OUR HERO."
A TALE OF THE FRANCO-ENGLISH WAR NINETY YEARS AGO.
BY AGNES GIBERNE, Author of "Sun, Moon and Stars," "The Girl at the
Dower House," etc.
[Illustration: "I WISH THEY WERE ENGLISH."]
_All rights reserved._]
CHAPTER VII.
ON PAROLE.
If the shock of this abrupt arrest of the whole body of English
travellers, who happened to be within reach of the First Consul, fell
sharply on those at home, it fell at least no less sharply on those who
were arrested.
An official notice was served upon all who could, by the utmost
stretching, be accounted amenable to the act. In that notice, received
alike by Colonel Baron and by Denham Ivor, they were informed
that--"All the English enrolled in the Militia, from the ages of
eighteen to sixty, or holding any commission from His Britannic
Majesty, shall be made prisoners of war;"--the reason given being the
same as was alleged in the version which speedily appeared in English
papers.
The mention of the Militia was, however, additional; and there was
something else also. It might fairly have been argued that professional
men, men of business, and men of no particular employment, could not be
included in the above statement. To guard against such reasoning the
document went on to explain--"I tell you beforehand that no pretext,
no excuse, can exclude you; as, according to British law, none can
dispense you from serving in the Militia."
This notion was made the basis for a far more sweeping arrest than had
at first been supposed possible. Not only officers in the Army and
Navy, who were then in France or in other countries under the dominion
of Napoleon, not only men who had served or who might be called upon
to serve in the Militia, but lawyers and doctors, clergymen and men of
rank, men of business and men in trade, all alike were detained, all
alike were forced immediately to constitute themselves prisoners of war
upon parole, with only the alternative of becoming prisoners of war in
prison, instead of upon parole.
Those who consented to give their word of honour not to attempt to
escape were allowed to remain at large, and to lodge where they
would, under certain limitations. That is to say, they had to live in
specified places, where they were under the continual inspection of
the gendarmerie, and where they had at regular intervals to report
themselves. Whether they were soldiers, sailors, clergymen, or business
men, they were thus at once cut off from their work in life, and many
were debarred from their only means of livelihood.
As a first move, the mass of the Paris détenus were ordered to
Fontainebleau; and thither Colonel and Mrs. Baron had to betake
themselves. Thither also Denham Ivor would speedily have to follow:
though, on the score of danger to others from infection, a few days'
delay was permitted.
The question had at once arisen whether Mrs. Baron should not be sent
to England with Roy, as soon as the boy might be fit to travel, since
women were theoretically free to go where they would, provided only
that they could obtain passports. But Mrs. Baron refused to consider
any such proposal. She could not and would not be separated from her
husband. "Of course I shall go to Fontainebleau," she said decisively.
"It cannot be for long. Roy must come to us there. It only means
leaving his schooling for a quarter of a year; and he will not be
strong enough for lessons at present. Something is sure to be arranged
soon, and then we shall all go home together."
Others were less sanguine of a quick release; but Colonel Baron could
seldom stand out against his wife, when she set her dainty foot down.
He made a half struggle, and won from her a promise that, if he should
be ordered farther away, she would then consent to Roy's being sent
home. Beyond that he failed to get his own way.
Long before Roy could be counted safe for even the short journey to
Fontainebleau, Denham had an intimation that his going thither might be
no longer deferred. Thus far he had not thought it needful to tell the
boy what had happened; but now the telling had become a necessity.
"Den, I want to look out of the window. Oh, let me look out," entreated
Roy, as the heavy beat of a drum sounded. He wriggled on the hard sofa,
where he had begun to spend a part of each day. Roy had grown thin, and
his eyes blinked weakly when turned to the light.
"You want to see the soldiers?"
"Yes. Do let me. May I try to walk to the window all alone? I know I
can."
Ivor laughed, though not mirthfully. "Try!" he answered, and Roy made a
brave attempt, actually reaching the window without being helped.
"Come, that was good. You are getting on nicely. Now sit down, and look
out for the soldiers. I think they are coming this way."
The boy gazed eagerly, flushing.
"I wish they were English," he said. "I wish I was in England. When
are we going home, Den? And when may I see my mamma? I do want to have
Molly again. It's ages since I saw Molly--and I want her!"
Denham was silent.
"It was stupid of me to be so glad to come away from Molly. Nothing is
half nice without her."
"I am glad you have found that out. She is a dear little sister, and
she would do anything in the world for you."
"Oh, well, of course, I know she would," assented Roy. "And I always
was fond of Molly too. She gets cross sometimes, though."
"Roy never gets cross, I suppose?"
Roy laughed rather consciously, and then gave vent to a sigh. "Oh,
dear, I don't like this chair. Not half so much as the sofa. It makes
me tired. I wish nobody ever had the small-pox. When shall I be all
right again, I wonder? I do hate being ill such a tremendously long
time."
Denham picked him up bodily, as if he had been an infant, carried him
across, and deposited him where he had been before.
"You have done about enough for one day. Oh, you will soon be well
now; no fear! And you may count yourself fortunate, not to have been
much worse. Yours has been a slight attack, compared with what many
people have."
"I don't call it slight. I call it a most beastly horrid illness. Den,
when shall we go home? I want Molly."
Denham took a seat by his side.
"I am not sure. It may not be just yet."
"Why not? I thought we were going as soon as ever we could."
"As soon as possible; yes. The question is, how soon that will be. Some
of us are not able to go yet; but I am hoping that your father will
send you home, and not let you wait for him and me."
"Why, Den?" Roy twisted round to gaze in astonishment. "Why, Den! I
thought you were all waiting, only just till I should get over this.
I didn't know there was anything else. Is there anything else? Has
something happened? Do tell me."
"You and your mother are free to go back to England, as soon as she is
willing to do so. Your father and I are not free."
"Aren't you? Why not? What is the matter with papa?"
"Nothing is the matter with him, so far as health is concerned. Only,
he is not free and I am not free. We are both prisoners."
Roy's large grey eyes grew bigger and rounder.
"Den! Why--Den--what can you mean? Prisoners! You and papa prisoners!
Why, you haven't been fighting."
"No, we have not been fighting. We ought not to be prisoners. Such
a thing has never happened before, in any war between civilised
countries. But war has been declared, as you know was expected before
you were taken ill. And one of the first things that Napoleon did,
directly war broke out, was to make all English travellers prisoners of
war."
Roy clenched his fist.
"He professes to have had provocation. There were French vessels
in our ports, and these were seized, as soon as our Ambassador had
been ordered to return home. But that was in accordance with a very
old custom--centuries old. Napoleon's act of reprisal is altogether
new. It is a thing unheard of--making war on travellers and peaceful
residents; a disgrace to himself and his nation. You know what is meant
by'reprisals' in war. This is his'reprisal' for the vessels seized.
Every Englishman in France, or in any country under Napoleon's sway at
this moment, is declared to be a prisoner."
"Then I'm a prisoner too."
"You are under age. Some boys of your age have been arrested, I
believe, but only because they hold His Majesty's Commission in the
Navy. Otherwise, under eighteen you are free."
"But you are not in prison."
"I am on parole. I have given my word of honour not to try to get away."
"Then you mustn't escape, even if you can?"
"No. If I had refused to give my parole, I should have been at once
sent to prison--probably have been thrown into a dungeon."
The boy was as white as a sheet.
"And papa----?"
"Has given his parole also."
"And--mamma?"
"Your mother is at liberty to go home, and your father wishes her to
do so, and to take you; but she says she will not leave him. One can
understand her feeling, and yet it is a pity. In England she would be
safer and better off. But you know how unhappy she always is, if she is
away from your father even for a few days. You, of course, will have
to be sent home soon, so as to go on with your schooling; but at first
you will join us at Fontainebleau. We hope to be all released in a very
little while. The thing is so disgraceful, that Napoleon can hardly
persevere in it--so most people say. But we shall soon see. If we are
not soon set free, your father will no doubt try to persuade your
mother to take you home."
"Where is Fontainebleau?"
"Some distance from Paris. Don't you know the name? Your father and
mother are there already, and now I have to go too. I have only been
allowed to wait for a few days, because of your illness, and I must not
put off any longer."
"Are you going soon? Will you take me?"
"Not just yet, my boy. You are hardly fit for the journey. A chill
might lay you by again; besides, other people might catch the small-pox
from you. So I have settled to leave you here a little longer, in
charge of kind Mademoiselle de St. Roques. She and Monsieur and Madame
de Bertrand will see well after you."
Roy looked very doleful.
"When are you going?"
"I am afraid--to-morrow. But for that I would not have told you quite
so soon. But you will keep up a brave heart. You are a soldier's son,
you know, so you mustn't give in."
Roy's face worked.
"I don't want you to go," he said. "That horrid old beast of a
Napoleon; I wish somebody or other would guillotine him--that I do! He
deserves it richly! Must you go?"
"I'm afraid I have no choice. The gendarmes have been looking me
up; and if I put off any longer I shall get into trouble with those
gentlemen. I'm bound to report myself at Fontainebleau before the
evening of the day after to-morrow. But you will soon come after me.
Why--Roy!"
"I can't help it. It's so horrid," sobbed Roy, direfully ashamed of
himself. "I--don't like you to go. I don't like you and papa to be
prisoners. And oh--poor little Molly! What will she do! Den, why does
God let such wicked men be in the world? I wouldn't. I'd kill them
right off."
"One can't always see the reason. Some good reason there must be."
"I don't know how there can be! It's all as horrid as horrid, and
everything is miserable!" The boy rubbed his coat-sleeve across his
eyes, only to burst out sobbing afresh. "I can't help it," he gasped.
"Oh, please don't ever tell Molly."
"No, I will not. But Molly would understand. It is only that you are
pulled down | 2,213.64573 |
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Transcriber's Notes: Words surrounded by _underscores_ are in italics in
the original.
Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the
original. Some typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected.
A complete list follows the text.
A row of five asterisks surrounded by blank lines represents a thought
break. All other asterisks indicate ellipses. Ellipses match the
original.
Table of Contents was added by the Transcriber.
LIFE
AND
LITERATURE
[Illustration]
OVER TWO THOUSAND EXTRACTS
FROM ANCIENT AND MODERN WRITERS,
AND CLASSIFIED
IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER
BY
J. PURVER RICHARDSON.
COPYRIGHT 1910
BY J. PURVER RICHARDSON
PRESS OF
BROWN-MORRISON CO.
LYNCHBURG, VA.
PREFACE
Good sir, or madam, whosoever thou mayest be, to whom this volume shall
come, cast it not aside, but read it. Its quaint, curious, and helpful
selections have been gathered through many years of careful research on
both sides of the Atlantic. They will make thee wiser and better, and
will conduce to the growth of thy mind, and the health of thy body. Let
this book be to thee a magazine of literary food, of which thou shalt
partake, and which thou shalt assimilate and digest to the constant
increase of thy well being.
The gathering of this bouquet of literary gems has been a work of
pleasure, but the compiler shall say nothing of himself for, "the least
that one can say of himself is still too much."
DEDICATED
AFFECTIONATELY
TO
MY CHILDREN
JOHN PURVER AND ANNIE SUE,
AND
"_To mine own People: meaning those within
The magic ring of home--my kith and kin;_
_And those with whom my soul delights to dwell--
Who walk with me as friends, and wish me well;_
_And lastly, those--a large unnumbered band,
Unknown to me--who read and understand._"
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE 3
Letter A 7
Letter B 27
Letter C 46
Letter D 99
Letter E 112
Letter F 119
Letter G 148
Letter H 168
Letter I 199
Letter J 210
Letter K 213
Letter L 220
Letter M 248
Letter N 295
Letter O 300
Letter P 306
Letter Q 332
Letter R 333
Letter S 344
Letter T 379
Letter U 399
Letter V 400
Letter W 402
Letter Y 433
Letter Z 435
INDEX 437
LIFE AND LITERATURE
A
1
_Abilities_--No man's abilities are so remarkably shining, as not to
stand in need of a proper opportunity, a patron, and even the praises of
a friend, to recommend them to the notice of the world.
--_Pliny._
2
Absence, with all its pains,
Is by this charming moment wip'd away.
3
Abuse is the weapon of the vulgar.
--_Goodrich._
4
It is told of Admiral Collingwood that on his travels he carried a bag
of acorns, and dropped one wherever there seemed a likely spot for an
oak to grow, that England might never lack ships.
--_English Newspaper._
5
_Acquaintances_--It is easy to make acquaintances, but sometimes
difficult to shake them off, however irksome and unprofitable they are
found, after we have once committed ourselves to them.
6
Acquaintance softens prejudices.
7
Many persons I once thought great, dwindle into very small dimensions,
on a short acquaintance.
--_Bacon._
8
Speak out in acts, the time for words
Has passed, and deeds alone suffice.
--_Shakespeare._
9
All may do what has by Man been done.
--_Young._
10
An act, by which we make one friend, and one enemy, is a losing game;
because revenge is a much stronger principle than gratitude.
11
All the world practices the art of acting.
--_Petronius Arbiter._
12
Do what you can, when you cannot do what you would.
13
A good action performed in this world receives its recompense in the
other, just as water poured at the root of a tree appears again above in
fruit and flower.
14
If the world were to see our real motives, we should be ashamed of some
of our best actions.
15
Our actions are our own; their consequences belong to Heaven.
--_Francis._
16
What thou intendest to do, speak not of, before thou doest it.
17
There is as much eloquence in the tone of voice, in the eyes, and in the
air of a speaker, as in his choice of words.
--_Rochefoucauld._
18
_Actions_--What I must do, is all that concerns me, and not what people
think.
--_Emerson._
19
An actor, when asked by the Archbishop of Canterbury why actors were
more successful in impressing their auditors than preachers, replied,
"Actors speak of things imaginary as if they were real, while you
preachers too often speak of things real as if they were imaginary."
20
ON LEAVING, AFTER A SHORT VISIT.
She gazed as I slowly withdrew;
My path I could hardly discern;
So sweetly she bade me "adieu,"
I thought that she bade me return.
--_W. Shenstone._
21
Adversity is sometimes hard upon a man; but for one man who can stand
prosperity, there are a hundred that will stand adversity.
--_Carlyle._
22
Adversity does not take from us our true friends; it only disperses
those who pretended to be so.
23
Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents, which, in prosperous
circumstances, would have lain dormant.
--_Horace._
24
He who never was acquainted with adversity, has seen the world but on
one side, and is ignorant of half the scenes of nature.
25
In prosperity the proud man knows nobody; in adversity nobody knows him.
--_From Scottish-American._
26
The finest friendships have been formed in mutual adversity.
--_Latin._
27
It is a disingenuous thing to ask for _advice_, when you mean
_assistance_; and it will be a just punishment if you get that which you
pretended to want.
--_Sir A. Helps._
28
Before giving advice we must have secured its acceptance, or rather,
have made it desired.
--_Amiel._
29
There is nothing more difficult than the art of making advice agreeable.
30
Every man, however wise, sometimes requires the advice of a friend in
the affairs of life.
--_Plautus._
31
He who gives advice to a self-conceited man, stands himself in need of
counsel.
32
Pouring water on a duck's back. (Fruitless counsel or advice).
--_Chinese._
33
Most people, when they come to you for advice, come to have their own
opinions strengthened, not corrected.
34
CLERICAL AFFECTATION.
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
What! Will a man play tricks, will he indulge
A silly fond conceit of his fair form
And just proportion, fashionable mien,
And pretty face, in presence of his God?
Or will he seek to dazzle me with tropes,
As with the diamond on his lily hand,
And play his brilliant parts before my eyes
When I am hungry for the bread of life?
He mocks his Maker, prostitutes and shames
His noble office, and, instead of truth,
Displaying his own beauty, starves his flock.
--_Cowper._
35
_The Cure of Affectation_--Is to follow nature. If every one would do
this, affectation would be almost unknown.
--_J. Beaumont._
36
Affectation of any kind, is lighting up a candle to our defects.
--_Locke._
37
Affectation is the vain and ridiculous attempt of poverty to appear
rich.
--_Lavater._
38
How sad to notice in one--changed affections,
A cold averted eye.
--_Observer._
39
AFFLICTION.
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining,
Behind the clouds the sun is shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all;
Into each life some rain must fall--,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
--_Longfellow._
40
_Affliction_--For every sort of suffering there is sleep provided by a
gracious Providence, save that of sin.
--_J. Wilson._
41
Affliction's sons are brothers in distress;
A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss!
--_Burns._
42
_Affronts_--Young men soon give, and soon forget affronts; old age is
slow in both.
--_Addison._
43
Old age is a joy, when youth has been well spent.
44
THE APPROACH OF AGE.
Six years had passed, and forty ere the six,
When time began to play his usual tricks;
The locks once comely in a virgin's sight,
Locks of pure brown, displayed the encroaching white;
The blood, once fervid, now to cool began,
And Time's strong pressure to subdue the man.
I rode or walked as I was wont before,
But now the bounding spirit was no more;
A moderate pace would now my body heat,
A walk of moderate length distress my feet.
I showed my stranger guest those hills sublime,
But said, "The view is poor, we need not climb."
At a friend's mansion I began to dread
The cold neat parlor and | 2,213.778057 |
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Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
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* * * * *
+-----------------------------------------------------------+
| Transcriber's Note: |
| |
| Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has |
| been preserved. |
| |
| Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. For |
| a complete list, please see the end of this document. |
| |
+-----------------------------------------------------------+
* * * * *
CHRISTIANITY AS
MYSTICAL FACT
AND
THE MYSTERIES OF ANTIQUITY
BY
DR. RUDOLF STEINER
AUTHOR OF "MYSTICS OF THE RENAISSANCE," "THE GATES
OF KNOWLEDGE," ETC.
_THIRD EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED_
EDITED BY H. COLLISON
THE AUTHORIZED ENGLISH TRANSLATION
G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
The Knickerbocker Press
1914
COPYRIGHT, 1914
BY
H. COLLISON
The copyrights, the publishing rights, and the editorial
responsibility for the translations of the works of Rudolf Steiner,
Ph.D., with the exception of those already published under the
editorial supervision of Mr. Max Gysi, are now vested in Mr. Harry
Collison, M.A., Oxon.
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION
_Christianity as Mystical Fact_ was the title given by the author to
this work, when, eight years ago, he gathered into it the substance of
lectures delivered by him in 1902. The title indicated the special
character of the book. In it the attempt was made, not merely to
represent historically the mystical content of Christianity, but to
describe the origin of Christianity from the standpoint of mystical
contemplation. Underlying this intention was the thought that at the
genesis of Christianity mystical facts were at work which can only be
perceived by such contemplation.
It is only the book itself which can make clear that by "mystical" its
author does not imply a conception which relies more on vague feelings
than on "strictly scientific statements." It is true that "mysticism"
is at present widely understood in the former sense, and hence it is
declared by many to be a sphere of the human soul-life with which
"true science" can have nothing to do. In this book the word
"mysticism" is used in the sense of the representation of a spiritual
fact, which can only be recognised in its true nature when the
knowledge of it is derived from the sources of spiritual life itself.
If the kind of knowledge drawn from such sources is rejected, the
reader will not be in a position to judge of the contents of this
book. Only one who allows that the same clearness may exist in
mysticism as in a true representation of the facts of natural science,
will be ready to admit that the content of Christianity as mysticism
may also be mystically described. For it is not only a question of the
contents of the book, but first and foremost of the methods of
knowledge by means of which the statements in it are made.
Many there are in the present day who have a most violent dislike to
such methods, which are regarded as conflicting with the ways of true
science. And this is not only the case with those willing to admit
other interpretations of the world than their own, on the ground of
"genuine knowledge of natural science," but also with those who as
believers wish to study the nature of Christianity.
The author of this book stands on the ground of a conception which
sees that the achievements of natural science in our age must lead up
into true mysticism. In fact, any other attitude as regards knowledge
actually contradicts everything presented by the achievements of
natural science. The facts of natural science itself indeed cannot be
comprehended by means of those methods of knowledge which so many
people would like to employ to the exclusion of others, under the
illusion that they stand on the firm ground of natural science. It is
only when we are prepared to admit that a full appreciation of our
present admirable knowledge of nature is compatible with genuine
mysticism, that we can take the contents of this book into
consideration.
The author's intention is to show, by means of what is here called
"mystical knowledge," how the source of Christianity prepared its own
ground in the mysteries of pre-Christian times. In this pre-Christian
mysticism we find the soil in which Christianity throve, as a germ of
quite independent nature. This point of view makes it possible to
understand Christianity in its independent being, even though its
evolution is traced from pre-Christian mysticism. If this point of
view be overlooked, it is very possible to misunderstand that
independent character, and to think that Christianity was merely a
further development of what already existed in pre-Christian
mysticism. Many people of the present day have fallen into this error,
comparing the content of Christianity with pre-Christian conceptions,
and then thinking that Christian ideas were only a continuation of the
former. The following pages are intended to show that Christianity
presupposes the earlier mysticism just as a seed must have its soil.
It is intended to emphasise the peculiar character of the essence of
Christianity, through the knowledge of its evolution, but not to
extinguish it.
It is with deep satisfaction that the author is able to mention that
this account of the nature of Christianity has found acceptance with
a writer who has enriched the culture of our time in the highest sense
of the word, by his important works on the spiritual life of humanity.
Edouard Schure, author of _Les Grands Inities_,[1] is so far in accord
with the attitude of this book that he undertook to translate it into
French, under the title, _Le mystere chretien et les mysteres
antiques_. It may be mentioned by the way, and as a symptom of the
existence at the present time of a longing to understand the nature of
Christianity as presented in this work, that the first edition was
translated into other European languages besides French.
The author has not found occasion to alter anything essential in the
preparation of this second edition. On the other hand, what was
written eight years ago has been enlarged, and the endeavour has been
made to express many things more exactly and circumstantially than was
then possible. Unfortunately the author was obliged, through stress
of work, to let a long period elapse between the time when the first
edition was exhausted, and the appearance of the second.
RUDOLF STEINER.
May, 1910.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] This book is to be had in an English translation, by F. Rothwell,
under the title of _The Great Initiates_, A Sketch of the Secret
History of Religions, by Edouard Schure (Pub., Rider & Son, London).
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION iii
CHAPTER
I.--POINTS OF VIEW 1
II.--THE MYSTERIES AND THEIR WISDOM | 2,213.784076 |
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THE POPULAR RELIGION
AND FOLK-LORE OF
NORTHERN INDIA
BY
W. CROOKE, B.A.
BENGAL CIVIL SERVICE
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I.
A NEW EDITION, REVISED AND ILLUSTRATED
WESTMINSTER
ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO.
2, Whitehall Gardens, S.W.
1896
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
The success of this book has been much beyond my expectations. That
a considerable edition has been exhausted within a few months after
publication proves that it meets a want.
I have now practically re-written the book, and have taken
the opportunity of introducing a considerable amount of fresh
information collected in the course of the Ethnographical Survey of
the North-Western Provinces, the results of which will be separately
published.
For the illustrations, which now appear for the first time, I am
indebted to the photographic skill of Mr. J. O'Neal, of the Thomason
Engineering College, Rurki. I could have wished that they could have
been drawn from a wider area. But Hardwar and its shrines are very
fairly representative of popular Hinduism in Northern India.
W. Crooke.
Saharanpur,
February, 1895.
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
Many books have been written on Brahmanism, or the official religion
of the Hindu; but, as far as I am aware, this is the first attempt
to bring together some of the information available on the popular
beliefs of the races of Upper India.
My object in writing this book has been threefold. In the first place
I desired to collect, for the use of all officers whose work lies
among the rural classes, some information on the beliefs of the people
which will enable them, in some degree, to understand the mysterious
inner life of the races among whom their lot is cast; secondly, it
may be hoped that this introductory sketch will stimulate inquiry,
particularly among the educated races of the country, who have,
as yet, done little to enable Europeans to gain a fuller and more
sympathetic knowledge of their rural brethren; and lastly, while I
have endeavoured more to collect facts than to theorize upon them,
I hope that European scholars may find in these pages some fresh
examples of familiar principles. My difficulty has arisen not so much
from deficiency of material, as in the selection and arrangement of
the mass of information, which lies scattered through a considerable
literature, much of which is fugitive.
I believe that the more we explore these popular superstitions and
usages, the nearer are we likely to attain to the discovery of the
basis on which Hinduism has been founded. The official creed has
always been characterized by extreme catholicism and receptivity, and
many of its principles and legends have undoubtedly been derived from
that stratum of the people which it is convenient to call non-Aryan
or Dravidian. The necessity, then, of investigating these beliefs
before they become absorbed in Brahminism, one of the most active
missionary religions of the world, is obvious.
I may say that the materials of this book were practically complete
before I was able to use Mr. J. S. Campbell's valuable collection of
"Notes on the Spirit Basis of Belief and Custom;" but, in revising
the manuscript, I have availed myself to some extent of this useful
collection, and when I have done so, I have been careful to acknowledge
my obligations to it. Even at the risk of overloading the notes
with references, I have quoted the authorities which I have used,
and I have added a Bibliography which may be of use to students to
whom the subject is unfamiliar.
The only excuse I can plead for the obvious imperfections of this
hasty survey of a very wide subject is that it has been written in
the intervals of the scanty leisure of a District Officer's life in
India, and often at a distance from works of reference and libraries.
W. Crooke.
Mirzapur,
February, 1893.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. PAGE
The Godlings of Nature 1
CHAPTER II.
The Heroic and Village Godlings 83
CHAPTER III.
The Godlings of Disease 123
CHAPTER IV.
The Worship of the Sainted Dead 175
CHAPTER V.
Worship of the Malevolent Dead 230
FOLK-LORE OF NORTHERN INDIA.
CHAPTER I.
THE GODLINGS OF NATURE.
En men gaian eteux' en d' ouranon, en de thalassan
eelion t' akamanta selenen te plethousan,
en de ta teirea panta, ta t' ouranos estephanotai
Pleiadas th' Hyadas te, to te sthenos Orionos
Arkton th', hen kai amaxan epiklesin kaleousin,
het autou strephatai kai t' Oriona dokeuei,
oie d' ammoros esti loetron Okeanoio.
Iliad, xviii. 483-88.
Among all the great religions of the world there is none more catholic,
more assimilative than the mass of beliefs which go to make up what
is popularly known as Hinduism. To what was probably its original
form--a nature worship in a large degree introduced by the Aryan
missionaries--has been added an enormous amount of demonolatry,
fetishism and kindred forms of primitive religion, much of which
has been adopted from races which it is convenient to describe as
aboriginal or autochthonous.
The same was the case in Western lands. As the Romans extended their
Empire they brought with them and included in the national pantheon the
deities of the conquered peoples. Greece and Syria, Egypt, Gallia and
Germania were thus successively laid under contribution. This power
of assimilation in the domain of religion had its advantages as well
as its dangers. While on the one hand it tended to promote the unity
of the empire, it degraded, on the other hand, the national character
by the introduction of the impure cults which flourished along the
eastern shores of the Mediterranean. [1]
But, besides these forms of religion which were directly imported
from foreign lands, there remained a stratum of local beliefs
which even after twenty centuries of Christianity still flourish,
discredited though they may be by priests and placed under the ban
of the official creed. Thus in Greece, while the high gods of the
divine race of Achilles and Agamemnon are forgotten, the Nereids,
the Cyclopes and the Lamia still live in the faith of the peasants of
Thessaly. [2] So in modern Tuscany there is actually as much heathenism
as catholicism, and they still believe in La Vecchia Religione--"the
old religion;"--and while on great occasions they have recourse to the
priests, they use magic and witchcraft for all ordinary purposes. [3]
It is part of the object of the following pages to show that in
India the history of religious belief has been developed on similar
lines. Everywhere we find that the great primal gods of Hinduism have
suffered grievous degradation. Throughout the length and breadth
of the Indian peninsula Brahma, the Creator, has hardly more than
a couple of shrines specially dedicated to him. [4] Indra has, as
we shall see, become a vague weather deity, who rules the choirs of
fairies in his heaven Indra-loka: Varuna, as Barun, has also become a
degraded weather godling, and sailors worship their boat as his fetish
when they commence a voyage. The worship of Agni survives in the fire
sacrifice which has been specialized by the Agnihotri Brahmans. Of
Pushan and Ushas, Vayu and the Maruts, hardly even the names survive,
except among the small philosophical class of reformers who aim at
restoring Vedism, a faith which is as dead as Jupiter or Aphrodite.
The Deva.
The general term for these great gods of Hinduism is Deva, or "the
shining ones." Of these even the survivors have in the course of the
development of the religious belief of the people suffered serious
change. Modern Vaishnavism has little left of the original conception
of the solar deity who in the Rig Veda strides in three steps through
the seven regions of the universe, and envelops all things in the dust
of his beams. To his cult has, in modern times, been added the erotic
cycle of myths which centre round Krishna and Radha and Rukmini. The
successive Avataras or incarnations mark the progressive development of
the cultus which has absorbed in succession the totemistic or fetish
worship of the tortoise, the boar, the fish and the man-lion. In
the same way Rudra-Siva has annexed various faiths, many of which
are probably of local origin, such as the worship of the bull and
the linga. Durga-Devi, again, most likely is indebted to the same
sources for the blood sacrifices which she loves in her forms of Kali,
Bhawani, Chandika or Bhairavi. A still later development is that of
the foul mysteries of the Tantra and the Saktis.
The Deota.
But in the present survey of the popular, as contrasted with the
official faith, we have little concern with these supremely powerful
deities. They are the gods of the richer or higher classes, and to
the ordinary peasant of Northern India are now little more than
a name. He will, it is true, occasionally bow at their shrines;
he will pour some water or lay some flowers on the images or fetish
stones which are the special resting-places of these divinities or
represent the productive powers of nature. But from time immemorial,
when Brahmanism had as yet not succeeded in occupying the land, his
allegiance was bestowed on a class of deities of a much lower and
more primitive kind. Their inferiority to the greater gods is marked
in their title: they are Devata or Deota, "godlings," not "gods." [5]
Godlings Pure and Impure.
These godlings fall into two well marked classes--the "pure" and the
"impure." The former are, as a rule, served by priests of the Brahman
castes or one of the ascetic orders: their offerings are such things
as are pure food to the Hindu--cakes of wheaten flour, particularly
those which have been still further purified by intermixture with
clarified butter (ghi), the most valued product of the sacred
cow, washed rice (akshata) and sweetmeats. They are very generally
worshipped on a Sunday, and the officiating high-caste priest accepts
the offerings. The offerings to the "impure" godlings contain articles
such as pork and spirits, which are abomination to the orthodox
Hindu. In the Central Indian hills their priest is the Baiga, who
rules the ghosts and demons of the village and is always drawn from
one of the Dravidian tribes. In the plain country the priest is a
non-Aryan Chamar, Dusadh, or even a sweeper or a Muhammadan Dafali
or drummer. No respectable Hindu will, it is needless to say, partake
of a share of the food consecrated (prasad) to a hedge deity of this
class. Much of the worship consists in offering of blood. But the
jungle man or the village menial of the plains can seldom, except in
an hour of grievous need, afford an expensive animal victim, and it
is only when the village shrine has come under the patronage of the
official priests of the orthodox faith, that the altar of the goddess
reeks with gore, like those of the Devis of Bindhachal or Devi Patan.
But as regards the acceptance of a share of the offering the line is
often not very rigidly drawn. As Mr. Ibbetson writing of the Panjab
says: [6] "Of course, the line cannot always be drawn with precision,
and Brahmans will often consent to be fed in the name of a deity,
while they will not take offerings made at his shrine, or will allow
their girls, but not their boys, to accept the offering, as, if the
girls die in consequence, it does not much matter." In fact, as we
shall see later on, the Baiga or devil | 2,213.8567 |
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note:
This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_. The topic
headings were printed in =boldface= type, and are delimited with ‘_’.
The original volume promised many illustrations. However, the edition
used here had none of them. The List of Illustrations is retained;
however, the pages indicated are not valid.
The text was printed with two columns per page, which could not be
reproduced in this format.
Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding
the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.
The following less-common characters are found in this book: ă (a with
breve), ā (a with macron), ĕ (e with breve), ē (e with macron), ĭ (i
with breve), ī (i with | 2,214.433047 |
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Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 54151-h.htm or 54151-h.zip:
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Images of the original pages are available through
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Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).
A carat character is used to denote superscription. A
single character following the carat is superscripted
(example: y^e).nsultation of external sources.
A detailed transcriber's note can be found at the end
of the book.
[Illustration: SHAKESPEARE THE BOY]
SHAKESPEARE THE BOY
With Sketches of
The Home and School Life
The Games and Sports, the Manners, Customs
and Folk-Lore of the Time
by
WILLIAM JAMES ROLFE, LITT.D.
[Illustration: (Publisher's colophon)]
With Forty-one Illustrations
London
Chatto & Windus
1897
Copyright, 1896, by Harper & Brothers.
All rights reserved.
PREFACE
Two years ago, at the request of the editors of the _Youth's
Companion_, I wrote for that periodical a series of four familiar
articles on the boyhood of Shakespeare. It was understood at the
time that I might afterwards expand them into a book, and this
plan is carried out in the present volume. The papers have been
carefully revised and enlarged to thrice their original compass,
and a new fifth chapter has been added.
The sources from which I have drawn my material are often mentioned
in the text and the notes. I have been particularly indebted to
Halliwell-Phillipps's _Outlines of the Life of Shakespeare_,
Knight's _Biography of Shakspere_, Furnivall's Introduction to
the "Leopold" edition of Shakespeare, his _Babees Book_, and his
edition of Harrison's _Description of England_, Sidney Lee's
_Stratford-on-Avon_, Strutt's _Sports and Pastimes_, Brand's
_Popular Antiquities_, and Dyer's _Folk-Lore of Shakespeare_.
I hope that the book may serve to give the young folk some glimpses
of rural life in England when Shakespeare was a boy, and also to
help them--and possibly their elders--to a better understanding of
many allusions in his works.
W. J. R.
CAMBRIDGE, _June 10, 1896_.
CONTENTS
PAGE
PART I.--HIS NATIVE TOWN AND NEIGHBORHOOD 1
WARWICKSHIRE 3
WARWICK CASTLE AND SAINT MARY'S CHURCH 4
WARWICK IN HISTORY 8
GUY OF WARWICK 9
KENILWORTH CASTLE 12
COVENTRY 14
CHARLECOTE HALL 19
STRATFORD-ON-AVON 24
THE EARLY HISTORY OF STRATFORD 27
THE STRATFORD GUILD 34
THE STRATFORD CORPORATION 39
THE TOPOGRAPHY OF STRATFORD 43
PART II.--HIS HOME LIFE 47
THE DWELLING-HOUSES OF THE TIME 49
THE HOUSEHOLD FURNITURE 52
FOOD AND DRINK 57
THE TRAINING OF CHILDREN 60
INDOOR AMUSEMENTS 67
POPULAR BOOKS 71
STORY-TELLING 73
CHRISTENINGS 80
SUPERSTITIONS CONNECTED WITH BIRTH AND BAPTISM 84
CHARMS AND AMULETS 87
PART III.--AT SCHOOL 93
THE STRATFORD GRAMMAR SCHOOL 95
WHAT SHAKESPEARE LEARNT AT SCHOOL 99
THE NEGLECT OF ENGLISH 106
SCHOOL LIFE IN SHAKESPEARE'S DAY 110
SCHOOL MORALS 112
SCHOOL DISCIPLINE 113
WHEN WILLIAM LEFT SCHOOL 118
PART IV.--GAMES AND SPORTS 119
BOYISH GAMES 121
SWIMMING AND FISHING 130
BEAR-BAITING 132
COCK-FIGHTING AND COCK-THROWING 136
OTHER CRUEL SPORTS 139
ARCHERY 142
HUNTING 145
FOWLING 151
HAWKING 153
THEATRICAL ENTERTAINMENTS 160
PART V.--HOLIDAYS, FESTIVALS, FAIRS, ETC. 165
SAINT GEORGE'S DAY 167
EASTER 172
THE PERAMBULATION OF THE PARISH 174
MAY-DAY AND THE MORRIS-DANCE 176
WHITSUNTIDE 184
MIDSUMMER EVE 186
CHRISTMAS 190
SHEEP-SHEARING 193
HARVEST-HOME 195
MARKETS AND FAIRS 198
RURAL OUTINGS 207
NOTES 213
INDEX 247
ILLUSTRATIONS
SHAKESPEARE THE BOY _Frontispiece_
THE SHAKESPEARE BIRTHPLACE, ABOUT 1820 3
WARWICK CASTLE 5
GATE-HOUSE OF KENILWORTH CASTLE 13
COVENTRY CHURCHES AND PAGEANT _Facing p._ 14
CHARLECOTE HALL 20
ENTRANCE TO CHARLECOTE HALL 22
SIR THOMAS LUCY 23
STRATFORD CHURCH _Facing p._ 30
STRATFORD CHURCH, WEST END 32
THE GUILD CHAPEL AND GRAMMAR SCHOOL, STRATFORD 35
MAP--PLAN OF STRATFORD 42
SHAKESPEARE HOUSE, RESTORED 49
ROOM IN WHICH SHAKESPEARE WAS BORN _Facing p._ 50
INTERIOR OF ANNE HATHAWAY'S COTTAGE " 56
OLD HOUSE IN HIGH STREET 59
ANNE HATHAWAY'S COTTAGE _Facing p._ 64
SHILLING OF EDWARD VI. 68
ANCIENT FONT AT STRATFORD 81
PORCH, STRATFORD CHURCH _Facing p._ 88
INNER COURT, GRAMMAR SCHOOL 95
THE SCHOOL-ROOM AS IT WAS 97
DESK SAID TO BE SHAKESPEARE'S 102
WALK ON THE BANKS OF THE AVON _Facing p._ 112
HIDE-AND-SEEK " 122
"MORRIS" BOARD 130
FISHING IN THE AVON _Facing p._ 132
THE BEAR GARDEN, LONDON 133
GARDEN AT NEW PLACE _Facing p._ 146
ELIZABETH HAWKING 155
BOY WITH HAWK AND HOUNDS 159
ITINERANT PLAYERS IN A COUNTRY HALL _Facing p._ 160
WILLIAM KEMP DANCING THE MORRIS 163
THE BOUNDARY ELM 167
MORRIS-DANCE _Facing p._ 178
CLOPTON HOUSE ON CHRISTMAS EVE " 190
THE FAIR " 200
INTERIOR OF GRAMMAR SCHOOL, BEFORE THE RESTORATION 225
CLOPTON MONUMENTS _Facing p._ 238
THE BAR-GATE, SOUTHAMPTON 242
ARMS OF JOHN SHAKESPEARE 251
SHAKESPEARE THE BOY
PART I
HIS NATIVE TOWN AND NEIGHBORHOOD
[Illustration: THE SHAKESPEARE BIRTHPLACE, ABOUT 1820]
WARWICKSHIRE
The county of Warwick was called the heart of England as long ago
as the time of Shakespeare. Indeed, it was his friend, Michael
Drayton, born the year before himself, who first called it so.
In his _Poly-Olbion_ (1613) Drayton refers to his native county
as "That shire which we the heart of England well may call." The
form of the expression seems to imply that it was original with
him. It was doubtless suggested by the central situation of the
county, about equidistant from the eastern, western, and southern
shores of the island; but it is no less appropriate with reference
to its historical, romantic, and poetical associations. Drayton,
whose rhymed geography in the _Poly-Olbion_ is rather prosaic and
tedious, attains a kind of genuine inspiration when, in his 13th
book, he comes to describe
"Brave Warwick that abroad so long advanced her Bear,
By her illustrious Earls renowned everywhere;
Above her neighboring shires which always bore her head."
The verse catches something of the music of the throstle and the
lark, of the woosel "with golden bill" and the nightingale with her
tender strains, as he tells of these Warwickshire birds, and of the
region with "flowery bosom brave" where they breed and warble; but
in Shakespeare the same birds sing with a finer music--more like
that to which we may still listen in the fields and woodlands along
the lazy-winding Avon.
WARWICK CASTLE AND SAINT MARY'S CHURCH.
Warwickshire is the heart of England, and the country within ten
miles or so of the town of Warwick may be called the heart of this
heart. On one side of this circle are Stratford and Shottery and
Wilmcote--the home of Shakespeare's mother--and on the other are
Kenilworth and Coventry.
In Warwick itself is the famous castle of its Earls--"that fairest
monument," as Scott calls it, "of ancient and chivalrous splendor
which yet remains uninjured by time." The earlier description
written by the veracious Dugdale almost two hundred and fifty years
ago might be applied to it to-day. It is still "not only a place
of great strength, but extraordinary delight; with most pleasant
gardens, walls, and thickets such as this part of England can
hardly parallel; so that now it is the most princely seat that is
within the midland parts of this realm."
[Illustration: WARWICK CASTLE]
The castle was old in Shakespeare's day. Cæsar's Tower, so called,
though not built, as tradition alleged, by the mighty Julius, dated
back to an unknown period; and Guy's Tower, named in honor of the
redoubted Guy of Warwick, the hero of many legendary exploits, was
built in 1394. No doubt the general appearance of the buildings
was more ancient in the sixteenth century than it is to-day, for
they had been allowed to become somewhat dilapidated; and it
was not until the reign of James I. that they were repaired and
embellished, at enormous expense, and made the stately fortress
and mansion that Dugdale describes.
But the castle would be no less beautiful for situation, though it
were fallen to ruin like the neighboring Kenilworth. The rock on
which it stands, washed at its base by the Avon, would still be
there, the park would still stretch its woods and glades along the
river, and all the natural attractions of the noble estate would
remain.
We cannot doubt that the youthful Shakespeare was familiar with the
locality. Warwick and Kenilworth were probably the only baronial
castles he had seen before he went to London; and, whatever others
he may have seen later in life, these must have continued to be his
ideal castles as in his boyhood.
It is not likely that he was ever in Scotland, and when he
described the castle of Macbeth the picture in his mind's eye was
doubtless Warwick or Kenilworth, and more likely the former than
the latter; for
"_This_ castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses. This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his loved mansionry, that the air
Smells wooingly here; no jutty, frieze,
Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle.
Where they most breed and haunt I have observed
The air is delicate."
Saint Mary's church at Warwick was also standing then--the most
interesting church in Warwickshire next to Holy Trinity at
Stratford. It was burned in 1694, but the beautiful choir and the
magnificent lady chapel, or Beauchamp Chapel, fortunately escaped
the flames, and we see them to-day as Shakespeare doubtless saw
them, except for the monuments that have since been added. _He_
saw in the choir the splendid tomb of Thomas Beauchamp, Earl of
Warwick, and in the adjacent chapel the grander tomb of Richard
Beauchamp, unsurpassed in the kingdom except by that of Henry VII.
in Westminster Abbey. _He_ looked, as we do, on the full-length
figure of the Earl, recumbent in armor of gilded brass, under the
herse of brass hoops also gilt; his hands elevated in prayer, the
garter on his left knee, the swan at his head, the griffin and
bear at his feet. _He_ read, as we read, in the inscription on the
cornice of the sepulchre, how this "most worshipful knight decessed
full christenly the last day of April the year of oure Lord God
1439, he being at that time lieutenant general and governor of the
realm of Fraunce," and how his body was brought to Warwick, and
"laid with full solemn exequies in a fair chest made of stone in
this church" on the 4th day of October--"honoured be God therefor."
And the young Shakespeare looked up, as we do, at the exquisitely
carved stone ceiling, and at the great east window, which still
contains the original glass, now almost four and a half centuries
old, with the portrait of Earl Richard kneeling in armor with
upraised hands.
The tomb of "the noble Impe, Robert of Dudley," who died in 1584,
with the lovely figure of a child seven or eight years old, may
have been seen by Shakespeare when he returned to Stratford in his
latter years, and also the splendid monument of the father of the
"noble imp," Robert Dudley, the great Earl of Leicester, who died
in 1588; but in the poet's youth this famous nobleman was living in
the height of his renown and prosperity at the castle of Kenilworth
five miles away, which we will visit later.
WARWICK IN HISTORY.
Only brief reference can be made here to the important part that
Warwick, or its famous Earl, Richard Neville, the "King-maker,"
played in the English history on which Shakespeare founded several
dramas,--the three Parts of _Henry VI._ and _Richard III._ He is
the most conspicuous personage of those troublous times. He had
already distinguished himself by deeds of bravery in the Scottish
wars, before his marriage with Anne, daughter and heiress of
Richard Beauchamp, made him the most powerful nobleman in the
kingdom. By this alliance he acquired the vast estates of the
Warwick family, and became Earl of Warwick, with the right to hand
down the title to his descendants. The immense revenues from his
patrimony were augmented by the income he derived from his various
high offices in the state; but his wealth was scattered with a
royal liberality. It is said that he daily fed thirty thousand
people at his numerous mansions.
The Lady Anne of _Richard III._, whom the hero of the play wooes in
such novel fashion, was the youngest daughter of the King-maker,
born at Warwick Castle in 1452. Richard says, in his soliloquy at
the end of the first scene of the play:--
"I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.
What though I kill'd her husband and her father?"
Her husband was Edward, Prince of Wales, son of Henry VI., and was
slain at the battle of Tewkesbury.
The Earl of Warwick who figures in _2 Henry IV._ was the Richard
Beauchamp already mentioned as the father of Anne who became the
wife of the King-maker. He appears again in the play of _Henry V._,
and also in the first scene of _Henry VI._, though he has nothing
to say; and, as some believe, he (and not his son) is the Earl of
Warwick in the rest of the play, in spite of certain historical
difficulties which that theory involves. In _2 Henry IV._ (iii. 1.
66) Shakespeare makes the mistake of calling him "Nevil" instead of
Beauchamp.
The title of the Warwick earls became extinct with the death of the
King-maker on the battle-field of Barnet. It was then bestowed on
George, Duke of Clarence, who was drowned in the butt of wine by
order of his loving brother Richard. It then passed to the young
son of Clarence, who is another character in the play of _Richard
III._ He, like his unfortunate father, was long imprisoned in the
Tower, and ultimately murdered there after the farce of a trial on
account of his alleged complicity in a plot against Henry VII. The
subsequent vicissitudes of the earldom do not appear in the pages
of Shakespeare, and we will not refer to them here.
GUY OF WARWICK.
The dramatist was evidently familiar with the legendary renown of
Warwick as well as its authentic history. Doubtless he had heard
the story of the famous Guy of Warwick in his boyhood; and later
he probably visited "Guy's Cliff," on the edge of the town of
Warwick, where the hero is said to have spent the closing years of
his life. Learned antiquarians, in these latter days, have proved
that his adventures are mythical, but the common people believe
in him as of old. There is his "cave" in the side of the "cliff"
on the bank of the Avon, and his gigantic statue in the so-called
chapel; and can we not see his sword, shield, and breastplate, his
helmet and walking-staff, in the great hall of Warwick Castle? The
breastplate alone weighs more than fifty pounds, and who but the
mighty Guy could have worn it? There too is his porridge-pot of
metal, holding more than a hundred gallons, and the flesh-fork to
match. We may likewise see a rib and other remains of the famous
"dun cow," which he slew after the beast had long been the terror
of the country round about. Unbelieving scientists doubt the bovine
origin of these interesting relics, to be sure, as they doubt the
existence of the stalwart destroyer of the animal; but the vulgar
faith in them is not to be shaken.
Of Guy's many exploits the most noted was his conflict with a
gigantic Saracen, Colbrand by name, who was fighting with the Danes
against Athelstan in the tenth century, and was slain by Guy, as
the old ballad narrates. Subsequently Guy went on a pilgrimage
to the Holy Land, leaving his wife in charge of his castle.
Years passed, and he did not return. Meanwhile his lady lived an
exemplary life, and from time to time bestowed her alms on a poor
pilgrim who had made his appearance at a secluded cell by the Avon,
not far from the castle. She may sometimes have talked with him
about her husband, whom she now gave up as lost, assuming that he
had perished by the fever of the East or the sword of the infidel.
At last she received a summons to visit the aged pilgrim on his
death-bed, when, to her astonishment, he revealed himself as the
long-lost Guy. In his early days, when he was wooing the lady,
she had refused to give him her hand unless he performed certain
deeds of prowess. These had not been accomplished without sins that
weighed upon his conscience during his absence in Palestine; and
he had made a vow to lead a monastic life after his return to his
native land.
The legend, like others of the kind, was repeated in varied forms;
and, according to one of these, when Guy came back to Warwick he
begged alms at the gate of his castle. His wife did not recognize
him, and he took this as a sign that the wrath of Heaven was not
yet appeased. Thereupon he withdrew to the cell in the cliff, and
did not make himself known to his wife until he was at the point of
death.
Shakespeare refers to Guy in _Henry VIII._ (v. 4. 22), where a
man exclaims, "I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand"; and
Colbrand is mentioned again in _King John_ (i. 1. 225) as "Colbrand
the giant, that same mighty man."
The scene of Guy's legendary retreat on the bank of the Avon is
a charming spot, and there was certainly a hermitage here at a
very early period. Richard Beauchamp founded a chantry for two
priests in 1422, and left directions in his will for rebuilding the
chapel and setting up the statue of Guy in it. At the dissolution
of the monasteries in the time of Henry VIII. the chapel and its
possessions were bestowed upon a gentleman named Flammock, and
the place has been a private residence ever since, though the
present mansion was not built until the beginning of the eighteenth
century. There is an ancient mill on the Avon not far from the
house, commanding a beautiful view of the river and the cliff. The
celebrated actress, Mrs. Siddons, lived for some time at Guy's
Cliff as waiting-maid to Lady Mary Greatheed, whose husband built
the mansion.
KENILWORTH CASTLE.
But we must now go on to Kenilworth, though we cannot linger long
within its dilapidated walls, majestic even in ruin. If, as Scott
says, Warwick is the finest example of its kind yet uninjured by
time and kept up as a noble residence, Kenilworth is the most
stupendous of similar structures that have fallen to decay. It
was ancient in Shakespeare's day, having been originally built
at the end of the eleventh century. Two hundred years later, in
1266, it was held for six months by the rebellious barons against
Henry III. After having passed through sundry hands and undergone
divers vicissitudes of fortune, it was given by Elizabeth to Robert
Dudley, Earl of Leicester, who spent, in enlarging and adorning
it, the enormous sum of £60,000--three hundred thousand dollars,
equivalent to at least two millions now. Scott, in his novel of
_Kenilworth_, describes it, with no exaggeration of romance--for
exaggeration would hardly be possible--as it was then. Its very
gate-house, still standing complete, was, as Scott says, "equal
in extent and superior in architecture to the baronial castle
of many a northern chief"; but this was the mere portal of the
majestic structure, enclosing seven acres with its walls, equally
impregnable as a fortress and magnificent as a palace.
[Illustration: GATE-HOUSE OF KENILWORTH CASTLE]
There were great doings at this castle of Kenilworth in 1575, when
Shakespeare was eleven years old, and the good people from all the
country roundabout thronged to see them. Then it was that Queen
Elizabeth was entertained by Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester,
and from July 9th to July 27th there was a succession of holiday
pageants in the most sumptuous and elaborate style of the time.
Master Robert Laneham, whose accuracy as a chronicler is not to be
doubted, though he may have been, as Scott calls him, "as great a
coxcomb as ever blotted paper," mentions, as a proof of the earl's
hospitality, that "the clock bell rang not a note all the while
her highness was there; the clock stood also still withal; the
hands stood firm and fast, always pointing at two o'clock," the
hour of banquet! The quantity of beer drunk on the occasion was 320
hogsheads, and the total expense of the entertainments is said to
have been £1000 ($5000) a day.
John Shakespeare, as a well-to-do citizen of Stratford, would
be likely to see something of that stately show, and it is not
improbable that he took his son William with him. The description
in the _Midsummer-Night's Dream_ (ii. 1. 150) of
"a mermaid on a dolphin's back
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious sounds
That the rude sea grew civil at her song,"
appears to be a reminiscence of certain features of the Kenilworth
pageant. The minstrel Arion figured there, on a dolphin's back,
singing of course; and Triton, in the likeness of a mermaid,
commanded the waves to be still; and among the fireworks there were
shooting-stars that fell into the water, like the stars that, as
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IMPRESSIONS
OF
AMERICA.
BY
OSCAR WILDE.
EDITED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION,
BY STUART MASON.
Keystone Press, Sunderland.
1906.
This Edition consists of 500 Copies.
50 Copies have been printed on hand-made paper.
TO
WALTER LEDGER:
PIGNUS
AMICITIAE.
IMPRESSIONS.
I.
LE JARDIN.
The lily's withered chalice falls
Around its rod of dusty gold,
And from the beech trees on the wold
The last wood-pigeon coos and calls.
The gaudy leonine sunflower
Hangs black and barren on its stalk,
And down the windy garden walk
The dead leaves scatter,--hour by hour.
Pale privet-petals white as milk
Are blown into a snowy mass;
The roses lie upon the grass,
Like little shreds of crimson silk.
II.
LA MER.
A white mist drifts across the shrouds,
A wild moon in this wintry sky
Gleams like an angry lion's eye
Out of a mane of tawny clouds.
The muffled steersman at the wheel
Is but a shadow in the gloom;--
And in the throbbing engine room
Leap the long rods of polished steel.
The shattered storm has left its trace
Upon this huge and heaving dome,
For the thin threads of yellow foam
Float on the waves like ravelled lace.
Oscar Wilde.
PREFACE.
Oscar Wilde visited America in the year 1882. Interest in the AEsthetic
School, of which he was already the acknowledged master, had sometime
previously spread to the United States, and it is said that the
production of the Gilbert and Sullivan opera, "Patience,"[1] in which he
and his disciples were held up to ridicule, determined him to pay a
visit to the States to give some lectures explaining what he meant by
AEstheticism, hoping thereby to interest, and possibly to instruct and
elevate our transatlantic cousins.
He set sail on board the "Arizona" on Saturday, December 24th, 1881,
arriving in New York early in the following year. On landing he was
bombarded by journalists eager to interview the distinguished stranger.
"Punch," in its issue of January 14th, in a happy vein, parodied these
interviewers, the most amusing passage in which referred to "His
Glorious Past," wherein Wilde was made to say, "Precisely--I took the
Newdigate. Oh! no doubt, every year some man gets the Newdigate; but not
every year does Newdigate get an Oscar."
At Omaha, where, under the auspices of the Social Art Club, Wilde
delivered a lecture on "Decorative Art," he described his impressions
of many American houses as being "illy designed, decorated shabbily, and
in bad taste, filled with furniture that was not honestly made, and was
out of character." This statement gave rise to the following verses:--
What a shame and what a pity,
In the streets of London City
Mr. Wilde is seen no more.
Far from Piccadilly banished,
He to Omaha has vanished.
Horrid place, which swells ignore.
On his back a coat he beareth,
Such as Sir John Bennet weareth,
Made of velvet--strange array!
Legs Apollo might have sighed for,
Or great Hercules have died for,
His knee breeches now display.
Waving sunflower and lily,
He calls all the houses "illy
Decorated and designed."
For of taste they've not a tittle;
They may chew and they may whittle;
But they're all born colour-blind!
His lectures dealt almost exclusively with the subjects of Art and Dress
Reform. In the course of one lecture he remarked that the most
impressive room he had yet entered in America was the one in Camden Town
where he met Walt Whitman. It contained plenty of fresh air and
sunlight. On the table was a simple cruse of water. This led to a
parody, in the style of Whitman, describing an imaginary interview
between the two poets, which appeared in "The Century" a few months
later. Wilde is called Narcissus and Whitman Paumanokides.
Paumanokides:--
Who may this be?
This young man clad unusually with loose locks, languorous,
glidingly toward me advancing,
Toward the ceiling of my chamber his orbic and expressive eyeballs
uprolling,
and so on, to which Narcissus replies,
O clarion, from whose brazen throat,
Strange sounds across the seas are blown,
Where England, girt as with a moat,
A strong sea-lion sits alone!
Of the lectures which he delivered in America only one has been
preserved, namely that on the English Renaissance. This was his first
lecture, and it was delivered in New York on January 9th, 1882.
According to a contemporary account in the "New York Herald" a
distinguished and crowded audience assembled in Chickering Hall that
evening to listen to one who "was well worth seeing, his short breeches
and silk stockings showing to even better advantage upon the stage than
in the gilded drawing-rooms, where the young Apostle has heretofore been
seen in New York."[2]
On leaving the States in the "fall" of the year Wilde proceeded to
Canada and thence to Nova Scotia, arriving in Halifax in the second week
of October. Of his visit there we have no record except an amusing
interview described in a local paper a few days later. He was dressed in
a velvet jacket with an ordinary linen collar and neck tie and he wore
trousers. "Mr. Wilde," the interviewer states, "was communicative and
genial; he said he found Canada pleasant, but in answer to a question as
to whether European or American women were the more beautiful, he
dexterously evaded his querist."
As regards poetry he expressed his opinion that Poe was the greatest
American poet, and that Walt Whitman, if not a poet, was a man who
sounded a strong note, perhaps neither prose nor poetry, but something
of his own that was "grand, original and unique."
During his tour in America Wilde "happened to find" himself (as he has
himself described it), in Louisville, Kentucky. The subject he had
selected to speak on was the Mission of Art in the Nineteenth Century.
In the course of his lecture he had occasion to quote Keats' Sonnet on
Blue "as an example of the poet's delicate sense of colour-harmonies."
After the lecture there came round to see him "a lady of middle age,
with a sweet gentle manner and most musical voice," who introduced
herself as Mrs. Speed, the daughter of George Keats, and she invited the
lecturer to come and examine the Keats manuscripts in her possession.
Some months afterwards when lecturing in California he received a letter
from this lady asking him to accept the original manuscript of the
sonnet which he had quoted.
Mention must be made of Wilde's first play, a drama in blank verse
entitled "Vera, or the Nihilists." It had been arranged that, before his
departure for America, this play should be performed at the Adelphi
Theatre, London, with Mrs. Bernard Beere as the heroine, on Saturday,
December 17th, 1881, but a few weeks before the date fixed for the first
performance, the author decided to postpone the production "owing to the
state of political feeling in England."
On his return to England in 1883 Wilde started on a lecturing tour, the
first being to the Art Students of the Royal Academy at their Club in
Golden Square on June 30th. Ten days later he spoke at Prince's Hall on
his "Personal Impressions of America," and on subsequent occasions at
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A HISTORY
OF
NINETEENTH CENTURY
LITERATURE
(1780-1895)
BY
GEORGE SAINTSBURY
PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF
EDINBURGH
_New York_
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
1906
_All rights reserved_
COPYRIGHT, 1896,
BY MACMILLAN AND CO.
Set up and electrotyped, January, 1896. Reprinted October,
1896; August, 1898; September, 1899; April, 1902; March, 1904;
November, 1906.
_Norwood Press_
J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith
Norwood Mass. U.S.A.
PREFACE
In the execution of the present task (which I took over about two years
ago from hands worthier than mine, but then more occupied) some
difficulties of necessity occurred which did not present themselves to
myself when I undertook the volume of Elizabethan Literature, or to my
immediate predecessor in grappling with the period between 1660 and
1780.
The most obvious and serious of these was the question, "What should be
done with living authors?" Independently of certain perils of selection
and exclusion, of proportion and of freedom of speech, I believe it will
be recognised by every one who has ever attempted it, that to mix
estimates of work which is done and of work which is unfinished is to
the last degree unsatisfactory. I therefore resolved to include no
living writer, except Mr. Ruskin, in this volume for the purpose of
detailed criticism, though some may be now and then mentioned in
passing.
Even with this limitation the task remained a rather formidable one.
Those who are least disposed to overvalue literary work in proportion as
it approaches their own time will still acknowledge that the last
hundred and fifteen years are fuller furnished than either of the
periods of not very dissimilar length which have been already dealt
with. The proportion of names of the first, or of a very high second
class, is distinctly larger than in the eighteenth century; the bulk of
literary production is infinitely greater than in the Elizabethan time.
Further, save in regard to the earliest subsections of this period, Time
has not performed his office, beneficent to the reader but more
beneficent to the historian, of sifting and riddling out writers whom it
is no longer necessary to consider, save in a spirit of adventurous or
affectionate antiquarianism. I must ask the reader to believe me when I
say that many who do not appear here at all, or who are dismissed in a
few lines, have yet been the subjects of careful reading on my part. If
some exclusions (not due to mere oversight) appear arbitrary or unjust,
I would urge that this is not a Dictionary of Authors, nor a Catalogue
of Books, but a History of Literature; and that to mention everybody is
as impossible as to say everything. As I have revised the sheets the old
query has recurred to myself only too often, and sometimes in reference
to very favourite books and authors of my own. Where, it may be asked,
is Kenelm Digby and the _Broad Stone of Honour_? Where Sir Richard
Burton (as great a contrast to Digby as can well be imagined)? Where
Laurence Oliphant, who, but the other day, seemed to many clever men the
cleverest man they knew? Where John Foster, who provided food for the
thoughtful public two generations ago? Where Greville of the caustic
diaries, and his editor (latest deceased) Mr. Reeve, and Crabb Robinson,
and many others? Some of these and others are really _neiges d'antan_;
some baffle the historian in miniature by being rebels to brief and
exact characterisation; some, nay many, are simply crowded out.
I must also ask pardon for having exercised apparently arbitrary
discretion in alternately separating the work of the same writer under
different chapter-headings, and grouping it with a certain disregard of
the strict limits of the chapter-heading itself. I think I shall obtain
this pardon from those who remember the advantage obtainable from a
connected view of the progress of distinct literary kinds, and that,
sometimes not to be foregone, of considering the whole work of certain
writers together.
To provide room for the greater press of material, it was necessary to
make some slight changes of omission in the scheme of the earlier
volumes. The opportunity of considerable gain was suggested in the
department of extract--which obviously became less necessary in the case
of authors many of whom are familiar, and hardly any accessible with
real difficulty. Nor did it seem necessary to take up room with the
bibliographical index, the utility of which in my Elizabethan volume I
was glad to find almost universally recognised. This would have had to
be greatly more voluminous here; and it was much less necessary. With a
very few exceptions, all the writers here included are either kept in
print, or can be obtained without much trouble at the second-hand
bookshops.
To what has thus been said as to the principles of arrangement it cannot
be necessary to add very much as to the principles of criticism. They
are the same as those which I have always endeavoured to maintain--that
is to say, I have attempted to preserve a perfectly independent, and, as
far as possible, a rationally uniform judgment, taking account of none
but literary characteristics, but taking account of all characteristics
that are literary. It may be, and it probably is, more and more
difficult to take achromatic views of literature as it becomes more and
more modern; it is certainly more difficult to get this achromatic
character, even where it exists, acknowledged by contemporaries. But it
has at least been my constant effort to attain it.
In the circumstances, and with a view to avoid not merely repetition but
confusion and dislocation in the body of the book, I have thought it
better to make the concluding chapter one of considerably greater length
than the corresponding part of the Elizabethan volume, and to reserve
for it the greater part of what may be called connecting and
comprehensive criticism. In this will be found what may be not
improperly described from one point of view as the opening of the case,
and from another as its summing up--the evidence which justifies both
being contained in the earlier chapters.
It is perhaps not improper to add that the completion of this book has
been made a little difficult by the incidence of new duties, not in
themselves unconnected with its subject. But I have done my best to
prevent or supply oversight.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
THE END OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY
PAGE
The Starting-point--Cowper--Crabbe--Blake--Burns--Minor
Poets--The Political Satirists--Gifford--Mathias--Dr. Moore,
etc.--Paine--Godwin--Holcroft--Beckford, etc.--Mrs.
Radcliffe and "Monk" Lewis--Hannah More--Gilpin 1
CHAPTER II
THE NEW POETRY
Wordsworth--Coleridge--Southey--Scott--Byron--Shelley--Keats--
Rogers--Campbell--Moore--Leigh Hunt--Hogg--Landor--Minor
Poets born before Tennyson--Beddoes--Sir Henry Taylor--Mrs.
Hemans and L, E. L.--Hood and Praed 49
CHAPTER III
THE NEW FICTION
Interval--Maturin--Miss Edgeworth--Miss Austen--The _Waverley
Novels_--Hook--Bulwer--Dickens--Thackeray--Marryat--Lever--Minor
Naval Novelists--Disraeli--Peacock--Borrow--Miss
Martineau--Miss Mitford 125
CHAPTER IV
THE DEVELOPMENT OF PERIODICALS.
New Periodicals at the beginning of the
Century--Cobbett--The _Edinburgh Review_--Jeffrey--Sydney
Smith--The _Quarterly_--_Blackwood's_ and the _London
Magazines_--Lamb--Hazlitt--Wilson--Lockhart--De
Quincey--Leigh Hunt--Hartley Coleridge--Maginn and
_Fraser_--Sterling and the Sterling Club--Edward
FitzGerald--Barham 166
CHAPTER V
THE HISTORIANS OF THE CENTURY
Occasional
Historians--Hallam--Roscoe--Mitford--Lingard--Turner--
Palgrave--The Tytlers--Alison--Milman--Grote and
Thirlwall--Arnold--Macaulay--Carlyle--Minor
Figures--Buckle--Kinglake--Freeman and Green--Froude 211
CHAPTER VI
THE SECOND POETICAL PERIOD
Tennyson--Mr. and Mrs. Browning--Matthew Arnold--The
Prae-Raphaelite Movement--Rossetti--Miss
Rossetti--O'Shaughnessy--Thomson--Minor Poets--Lord
Houghton--Aytoun--The Spasmodics--Minor
Poets--Clough--Locker--The Earl of Lytton--Humorous
Verse-Writers--Poetesses 253
CHAPTER VII
THE NOVEL SINCE 1850
Changes in the Novel--Miss Bronte--George Eliot--Charles
Kingsley--The Trollopes--Reade--Minor Novelists--Stevenson 317
CHAPTER VIII
PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY
Limits of this and following Chapters--Bentham--
Mackintosh--The Mills--Hamilton and the Hamiltonians--
Mansel--Other Philosophers--Jurisprudents:
Austin, Maine, Stephen--Political Economists and
Malthus--The Oxford Movement--Pusey--Keble--Newman--The
Scottish Disruption--Chalmers--Irving--Other
Divines--Maurice--Robertson 342
CHAPTER IX
LATER JOURNALISM AND CRITICISM IN ART AND LETTERS
Changes in Periodicals--The _Saturday Review_--Critics of
the middle of the Century--Helps--Matthew Arnold in
Prose--Mr. Ruskin--Jefferies--Pater--Symonds--Minto 378
CHAPTER X
SCHOLARSHIP AND SCIENCE
Increasing Difficulty of
Selection--Porson--Conington--Munro--Sellar--Robertson
Smith--Davy--Mrs. Somerville--Other Scientific Writers--
Darwin--_Vestiges of Creation_--Hugh Miller--Huxley 404
CHAPTER XI
DRAMA
Weakness of this department throughout--O'Keefe--Joanna
Baillie--Knowles--Bulwer--Planche 417
CHAPTER XII
CONCLUSION
Survey and Analysis of the Period in the several
divisions--Revolutions in Style--The present state of
Literature 425
INDEX 471
CHAPTER I
THE END OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY
The period of English literary history which is dealt with in the
opening part of the present volume includes, of necessity, among its
most illustrious names, not a few whose work will not be the subject of
formal discussion here, because the major part of it was done within the
scope of the volume which preceded. Thus, to mention only one of these
names, the most splendid displays of Burke's power--the efforts in which
he at last gave to mankind what had previously been too often devoted to
party--date from this time, and even from the later part of it; while
Gibbon did not die till 1794, and Horace Walpole not till 1797. Even
Johnson, the type and dictator at once of the eighteenth century in
literary England, survived the date of 1780 by four years.
Nevertheless the beginning of the ninth decade of the century did
actually correspond with a real change, a real line of demarcation. Not
only did the old writers drop off one by one, not only did no new
writers of utterly distinct idiosyncrasy (Burns and Blake excepted) make
their appearance till quite the end of it, but it was also marked by the
appearance of men of letters and of literary styles which announced, if
not very distinctly, the coming of changes of the most sweeping kind.
Hard as it may be to exhibit the exact contrast between, say, Goldsmith
and men like Cowper on the one side and Crabbe on the other, that
contrast cannot but be felt by every reader who has used himself in the
very least to the consideration of literary differences. And as with
individuals, so with kinds. No special production of these twenty years
may be of the highest value; but there is a certain idiosyncrasy, if
only an idiosyncrasy of transition--an unlikeness to anything that comes
before, and to anything, unless directly imitated, that comes
after--which is equally distinguishable in the curious succession of
poetical satires from Peter Pindar to the _Anti-Jacobin_, in the
terror-and-mystery novels of the school of Mrs. Radcliffe and Monk
Lewis, in the large, if not from the literary point of view extremely
noteworthy, department of politics and economics which in various ways
employed the pens of writers so different as Moore, Young, Godwin,
Priestley, Horne, Tooke, Cobbett, and Paine.
Giving poetry, as usual, the precedence even in the most unpoetical
periods, we shall find in the four names already cited--those of Crabbe,
Cowper, Blake, and Burns--examples of which even the most poetical
period need not be ashamed. In what may be called the absolute spirit of
poetry, the _nescio quid_ which makes the greatest poets, no one has
ever surpassed Burns and Blake at their best; though the perfection of
Burns is limited in kind, and the perfection of Blake still more limited
in duration and sustained force. Cowper would have been a great poet of
the second class at any time, and in some times might have attained the
first. As for Crabbe, he very seldom has the absolute spirit of poetry
just mentioned; but the vigour and the distinction of his verse, as well
as his wonderful faculty of observation in rendering scene and
character, are undeniable. And it is not perhaps childish to point out
that there is something odd and out of the way about the poetical career
of all these poets of the transition. Cowper's terrible malady postpones
his first efforts in song to an age when most poets are losing their
voices; Crabbe, beginning brilliantly and popularly, relapses into a
silence of nearly a quarter of a century before breaking out with
greater power and skill than ever; Burns runs one of the shortest, if
one of the most brilliant, Blake one of the longest, the strangest, the
most intermittent, of poetical careers. Nor is it superfluous to draw
attention further to the fact that when we leave this little company--at
the best august, at the worst more than respectable--we drop suddenly to
the flattest and most hopeless bog of poesiless verse that lies anywhere
on the map of England's literature. Passing from the ethereal music of
the Scottish ploughman and the English painter, from Cowper's noble or
gentle thought and his accomplished versification, from Crabbe's manly
vigour and his Rembrandt touch, we find nothing, unless it be the
ingenious but not strictly poetical burlesque of the Wolcots and the
Lawrences, till we come to the drivel of Hayley and the drought of
Darwin.
Of the quartette, William Cowper was by far the oldest; the other three
being contemporaries within a few years. He was born on 26th November
1731 at Great Berkhampstead. His father was a clergyman and a royal
chaplain, his mother one of the Norfolk Donnes. Her early death, and
that school discomfort which afterwards found vent in _Tirocinium_,
appear to have aggravated a natural melancholia; though after leaving
Westminster, and during his normal studies at both branches of the law,
he seems to have been cheerful enough. How what should have been the
making of his fortune,--his appointment as Clerk of the Journals to the
House of Lords,--not unassisted by religious mania, drove him through
sheer nervousness to attempt suicide, is one of the best known things in
English literary biography, as indeed are most of the few events of his
sad life,--owing partly to his own charming letters, partly to the
biographies of Southey and others. His latest days were his unhappiest,
and after years of more or less complete loss of reason he died on 27th
April 1800.
It has been said that Cowper did not take to writing till late in life.
He had had literary friends--Churchill, Lloyd, and others--in youth, and
must always have had literary sympathies; but it was not till he was
nearly fifty, nor till the greater part of twenty years after his first
mental seizure, that he attempted composition at the instance of his
friend Newton and the Unwins. Beginning with hymns and trifles, he
before long undertook, at this or that person's suggestion, longer
poems, such as _Truth_, _The Progress of Error_, and _Expostulation_,
which were finished by 1781 and published next year, to be followed by
the still better and more famous _Task_, suggested to him by Lady
Austen. This appeared in 1785, and was very popular. He had already
begun to translate Homer, which occupied him for the greater part of
seven years. Nothing perhaps settled him more in the public affections
than "John Gilpin," the subject of which he also owed to Lady Austen;
and he continued to write occasional pieces of exquisite accomplishment.
Almost the last, if not actually the last, of these, written just before
the final obscuration of his faculties, was the beautiful and terrible
"Castaway," an avowed allegory of his own condition.
Cowper, even more than most writers, deserves and requites consideration
under the double aspect of matter and form. In both he did much to alter
the generally accepted conditions of English poetry; and if his formal
services have perhaps received less attention than they merit, his
material achievements have never been denied. His disposition--in which,
by a common enough contrast, the blackest and most hopeless melancholy
was accompanied by the merriest and most playful humour--reflected
itself unequally in his verse, the lighter side chiefly being exhibited.
Except in "The Castaway," and a few--not many--of the hymns, Cowper is
the very reverse of a gloomy poet. His amiability, however, could also
pass into very strong moral indignation, and he endeavoured to give
voice to this in a somewhat novel kind of satire, more serious and
earnest than that of Pope, much less political and personal than that of
Dryden, lighter and more restrained than that of the Elizabethans. His
own unworldly disposition, together with the excessively retired life
which he had led since early manhood, rather damaged the chances of
Cowper as a satirist. We always feel that his censure wants actuality,
that it is an exercise rather than an experience. His efforts in it,
however, no doubt assisted, and were assisted by, that alteration of
the fashionable Popian couplet which, after the example partly of
Churchill and with a considerable return to Dryden, he attempted, made
popular, and handed on to the next generation to dis-Pope yet further.
This couplet, paralleled by a not wholly dissimilar refashioning of
blank verse, in which, though not deserting Milton, he beat out for
himself a scheme quite different from Thomson's, perhaps show at their
best in the descriptive matter of _The Task_ and similar poems. It was
in these that Cowper chiefly displayed that faculty of "bringing back
the eye to the object" and the object to the eye, in which he has been
commonly and justly thought to be the great English restorer. Long
before the end of the Elizabethan period, poetical observation of nature
had ceased to be just; and, after substituting for justness the wildest
eccentricities of conceit, it went for a long time into another
extreme--that of copying and recopying certain academic
conventionalities, instead of even attempting the natural model. It is
not true, as Wordsworth and others have said, that Dryden himself could
not draw from the life. He could and did; but his genius was not
specially attracted to such drawing, his subjects did not usually call
for it, and his readers did not want it. It is not true that Thomson
could not "see"; nor is it true of all his contemporaries and immediate
followers that they were blind. But the eighteenth century had slipped
into a fault which was at least as fatal as that of the
Idealist-Impressionists of the seventeenth, or as that of the
Realist-Impressionists of our own time. The former neglected
universality in their hunt after personal conceits; the latter neglect
it in the endeavour to add nothing to rigidly elaborated personal
sensation. The one kind outstrips nature; the other comes short of art.
From Dryden to Cowper the fault was different from both of these. It
neglected the personal impression and the attention to nature too much.
It dared not present either without stewing them in a sauce of stock
ideas, stock conventions, stock words and phrases, which equally missed
the universal and the particular. Cowper and the other great men who
were his contemporaries by publication if not by birth, set to work to
cure this fault. Even the weakest of them could never have been guilty
of such a passage as that famous one which Congreve (as clever a man as
any) wrote, and which Johnson (as clever a man as any) admired. The
sentiment which actuated them was, if we may trust Coleridge's account
of Boyer or Bowyer, the famous tyrant of Christ's Hospital, well
diffused. "'Nymph,' boy? You mean your nurse's daughter," puts in a
somewhat brutal and narrow form the correction which the time needed,
and which these four in their different ways applied.
We have already glanced at the way in which Cowper applied it in his
larger poems: he did it equally well, and perhaps more tellingly, in his
smaller. The day on which a poet of no mean pretensions, one belonging
altogether to the upper classes of English society, and one whose lack
of university education mattered the less because the universities were
just then at their nadir, dared to write of the snake he killed
"And taught him never to come there no more"
was an epoch-making day. Swift would have done it; but Swift was in many
ways a voice crying in the wilderness, and Swift was not, strictly
speaking, a poet at all. Byrom would have done it; but Byrom was
emphatically a minor poet. Cowper could--at least in and for his
day--boast the major afflatus, and Cowper did not disdain vernacular
truth. He never could have been vulgar; there is not in the whole range
of English literature quite such a gentleman in his own way as Cowper.
But he has escaped almost entirely from the genteel style--from the
notion of things as below the dignity of literature.
His prose in this respect is at least equal to his verse, though, as it
was known much later, it has greater tendency than influence. All good
critics have agreed that his letters are not surpassed, perhaps not
surpassable. He has more freedom than Gray; he has none of the coxcombry
of Walpole and Byron; and there is no fifth name that can be put even
into competition with him. Ease, correctness, facility of expression,
freedom from convention within his range, harmony, truth to nature,
truth to art:--these things meet in the hapless recluse of Olney as they
had not met for a century--perhaps as they had never met--in English
epistles. The one thing that he wanted was strength: as his madness was
melancholy, not raving, so was his sanity mild but not triumphant.
George Crabbe was three and twenty years younger than Cowper, having
been born on Christmas Eve 1754. But his first publication, _The
Library_, the success of which was due to the generous and quick-sighted
patronage of Burke after the poet had wrestled with a hard youth,
coincided almost exactly with the first appearance of Cowper, and indeed
a little anticipated it. _The Village_ appeared in 1783, and _The
Newspaper_ in 1785, and then Crabbe (who had taken orders, had been
instituted to livings in the East of England, and had married, after a
long engagement, his first love) was silent for two and twenty years. He
began again in 1807 with _The Parish Register_. _The Borough_, his
greatest work, appeared in 1810. Shifting from the East of England to
the West in 1813, he spent the last twenty years of his long life at
Trowbridge in Wiltshire, and died in 1832 at the age of seventy-eight.
The external (and, as will be presently remarked, something more than
the external) uniformity of his work is great, and its external
conformity to the traditions and expectations of the time at which it
first appeared is almost greater. A hasty judgment, and even one which,
though not hasty, is not very keen-sighted, might see little difference
between Crabbe and any poet from Pope to Goldsmith except the
innovators. He is all but constant to the heroic couplet--the Spenserian
introduction to _The Birth of Flattery_, the variously-grouped
octosyllabic quatrains of _Reflections_, _Sir Eustace Grey_, _The Hall
of Justice_, and _Woman_, with a few other deviations, being merely
islets among a wide sea of rhymed decasyllabics constituting at least
nineteen-twentieths of the poet's outpouring. Moreover, he was as a rule
constant, not | 2,215.683537 |
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Produced by Colin Bell, Nigel Blower and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
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[Transcriber's Note:
_Italic words_ have been enclosed in underscores.
As the oe ligature cannot be included in this format, it has been
replaced with the separate letters in "manoeuvre" and "Phoenician".
A few minor typographical errors have been silently corrected.
Some inconsistent hyphenation has been retained.
The Table of Contents refers to original page numbers.]
THE BOOK
OF
GENESIS.
BY
MARCUS DODS, D.D.,
AUTHOR OF "ISRAEL'S IRON AGE,"
"THE PARABLES OF OUR LORD,"
"THE PRAYER THAT TEACHES TO PRAY," ETC.
NEW YORK:
A. C. ARMSTRONG AND SON
714, BROADWAY.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
THE CREATION 1
CHAPTER II.
THE FALL 15
CHAPTER III.
CAIN AND ABEL 28
CHAPTER IV.
CAIN'S LINE, AND ENOCH 42
CHAPTER V.
THE FLOOD 55
CHAPTER VI.
NOAH'S FALL 68
CHAPTER VII.
THE CALL OF ABRAHAM 81
CHAPTER VIII.
ABRAM IN EGYPT 96
CHAPTER IX.
LOT'S SEPARATION FROM ABRAM 108
CHAPTER X.
ABRAM'S RESCUE OF LOT 121
CHAPTER XI.
COVENANT WITH ABRAM 134
CHAPTER XII.
BIRTH OF ISHMAEL 147
CHAPTER XIII.
THE COVENANT SEALED 159
CHAPTER XIV.
ABRAHAM'S INTERCESSION FOR SODOM 172
CHAPTER XV.
DESTRUCTION OF THE CITIES OF THE PLAIN 186
CHAPTER XVI.
SACRIFICE OF ISAAC 198
CHAPTER XVII.
ISHMAEL AND ISAAC 212
CHAPTER XVIII.
PURCHASE OF MACHPELAH 226
CHAPTER XIX.
ISAAC'S MARRIAGE 240
CHAPTER XX.
ESAU AND JACOB 254
CHAPTER XXI.
JACOB'S FRAUD 267
CHAPTER XXII.
JACOB'S FLIGHT AND DREAM 279
CHAPTER XXIII.
JACOB AT PENIEL 293
CHAPTER XXIV.
JACOB'S RETURN 307
CHAPTER XXV.
JOSEPH'S DREAMS 321
CHAPTER XXVI.
JOSEPH IN PRISON 339
CHAPTER XXVII.
PHARAOH'S DREAMS 355
CHAPTER XXVIII.
JOSEPH'S ADMINISTRATION 369
CHAPTER XXIX.
VISITS OF JOSEPH'S BRETHREN 383
CHAPTER XXX.
THE RECONCILIATION 396
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE BLESSINGS OF THE TRIBES 415
I.
_THE CREATION._
GENESIS i. and ii.
If any one is in search of accurate information regarding the age of
this earth, or its relation to the sun, moon, and stars, or regarding
the order in which plants and animals have appeared upon it, he is
referred to recent text-books in astronomy, geology, and palaeontology.
No one for a moment dreams of referring a serious student of these
subjects to the Bible as a source of information. It is not the object
of the writers of Scripture to impart physical instruction or to enlarge
the bounds of scientific knowledge. But if any one wishes to know what
connection the world has with God, if he seeks to trace back all that
now is to the very fountain-head of life, if he desires to discover some
unifying principle, some illuminating purpose in the history of this
earth, then we confidently refer him to these and the subsequent
chapters of Scripture as his safest, and indeed his only, guide to the
information he seeks. Every writing must be judged by the object the
writer has in view. If the object of the writer of these chapters was to
convey physical information, then certainly it is imperfectly fulfilled.
But if his object was to give an intelligible account of God's relation
to the world and to man, then it must be owned that he has been
successful in the highest degree.
It is therefore unreasonable to allow our reverence for this writing to
be lessened because it does not anticipate the discoveries of physical
science; or to repudiate its authority in its own department of truth
because it does not give us information which it formed no part of the
writer's object to give. As well might we deny to Shakespeare a masterly
knowledge of human life, because his dramas are blotted by historical
anachronisms. That the compiler of this book of Genesis did not aim at
scientific accuracy in speaking of physical details is obvious, not
merely from the general scope and purpose of the Biblical writers, but
especially from this, that in these first two chapters of his book he
lays side by side two accounts of man's creation which no ingenuity can
reconcile. These two accounts, glaringly incompatible in details, but
absolutely harmonious in their leading ideas, at once warn the reader
that the writer's aim is rather to convey certain ideas regarding man's
spiritual history and his connection with God, than to describe the
process of creation. He does describe the process of creation, but he
describes it only for the sake of the ideas regarding man's relation to
God and God's relation to the world which he can thereby convey. Indeed
what we mean by scientific knowledge was not in all the thoughts of the
people for whom this book was written. The subject of creation, of the
beginning of man upon earth, was not approached from that side at all;
and if we are to understand what is here written we must burst the
trammels of our own modes of thought and read these chapters not as a
chronological, astronomical, geological, biological statement, but as a
moral or spiritual conception.
It will, however, be said, and with much appearance of justice, that
although the first object of the writer was not to convey scientific
information, yet he might have been expected to be accurate in the
information he did advance regarding the physical universe. This is an
enormous assumption to make on _a priori_ grounds, but it is an
assumption worth seriously considering because it brings into view a
real and important difficulty which every reader of Genesis must face.
It brings into view the twofold character of this account of creation.
On the one hand it is irreconcilable with the teachings of science. On
the other hand it is in striking contrast to the other cosmogonies which
have been handed down from pre-scientific ages. These are the two patent
features of this record of creation and both require to be accounted
for. Either feature alone would be easily accounted for; but the two
co-existing in the same document are more baffling. We have to account
at once for a want of perfect coincidence with the teachings of science,
and for a singular freedom from those errors which disfigure all other
primitive accounts of the creation of the world. The one feature of the
document is as patent as the other and presses equally for explanation.
Now many persons cut the knot by simply denying that both these features
exist. There is no disagreement with science, they say. I speak for many
careful enquirers when I say that this cannot serve as a solution of the
difficulty. I think it is to be freely admitted that, from whatever
cause and however justifiably, the account of creation here given is not
in strict and detailed accordance with the teaching of science. All
attempts to force its statements into such accord are futile and
mischievous. They are futile because they do not convince independent
enquirers, but only those who are unduly anxious to be convinced. And
they are mischievous because they unduly prolong the strife between
Scripture and science, putting the question on a false issue. And above
all, they are to be condemned because they do violence to Scripture,
foster a style of interpretation by which the text is forced to say
whatever the interpreter desires, and prevent us from recognising the
real nature of these sacred writings. The Bible needs no defence such as
false constructions of its language bring to its aid. They are its worst
friends who distort its words that they may yield a meaning more in
accordance with scientific truth. If, for example, the word 'day' in
these chapters, does not mean a period of twenty-four hours, the
interpretation of Scripture is hopeless. Indeed if we are to bring these
chapters into any comparison at all with science, we find at once
various discrepancies. Of a creation of sun, moon, and stars, subsequent
to the creation of this earth, science can have but one thing to say. Of
the existence of fruit trees prior to the existence of the sun, science
knows nothing. But for a candid and unsophisticated reader without a
special theory to maintain, details are needless.
Accepting this chapter then as it stands, and believing that only by
looking at the Bible as it actually is can we hope to understand God's
method of revealing Himself, we at once perceive that ignorance of some
departments of truth does not disqualify a man for knowing and imparting
truth about God. In order to be a medium of revelation a man does not
need to be in advance of his age in secular learning. Intimate
communion with God, a spirit trained to discern spiritual things, a
perfect understanding of and zeal for God's purpose, these are qualities
quite independent of a knowledge of the discoveries of science. The
enlightenment which enables men to apprehend God and spiritual truth,
has no necessary connection with scientific attainments. David's
confidence in God and his declarations of His faithfulness are none the
less valuable, because he was ignorant of a very great deal which every
school-boy now knows. Had inspired men introduced into their writings
information which anticipated the discoveries of science, their state of
mind would be inconceivable, and revelation would be a source of
confusion. God's methods are harmonious with one another, and as He has
given men natural faculties to acquire scientific knowledge and
historical information, He did not stultify this gift by imparting such
knowledge in a miraculous and unintelligible manner. There is no
evidence that inspired men were in advance of their age in the knowledge
of physical facts and laws. And plainly, had they been supernaturally
instructed in physical knowledge they would so far have been
unintelligible to those to whom they spoke. Had the writer of this book
mingled with his teaching regarding God, | 2,215.686848 |
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TWICE TOLD TALES
SIGHTS FROM A STEEPLE
By Nathaniel Hawthorne
O! I have climbed high, and my reward is small. Here I stand, with
wearied knees, earth, indeed, at a dizzy depth below, but heaven far,
far beyond me still. O that I could soar up into the very zenith, where
man never breathed, nor eagle ever flew, and where the ethereal azure
melts away from the eye, and appears only a deepened shade of
nothingness! And yet I shiver at that cold and solitary thought. What
clouds are gathering in the golden west, with direful intent against the
brightness and the warmth of this dimmer afternoon! They are ponderous
air-ships, black as death, and freighted with the tempest; and at
intervals their thunder, the signal-guns of that unearthly squadron,
rolls distant along the deep of heaven. These nearer heaps of fleecy
vapor--methinks I could roll and toss upon them the whole day long!--seem
scattered here and there, for the repose of tired pilgrims through
the sky. Perhaps--for who can tell?--beautiful spirits are disporting
themselves there, and will bless my mortal eye with the brief appearance
of their curly locks of golden light, and laughing faces, fair and faint
as the people of a rosy dream. Or, where the floating mass so
imperfectly obstructs the color of the firmament, a slender foot and
fairy limb, resting too heavily upon the frail support, may be thrust
through, and suddenly withdrawn, while longing fancy follows them in
vain. Yonder again is an airy archipelago, where the sunbeams love to
linger in their journeyings through space. Every one of those little
clouds has been dipped and steeped in radiance, which the slightest
pressure might disengage in silvery profusion, like water wrung from a
sea-maid's hair. Bright they are as a young man's visions, and, like
them, would be realized in chillness, obscurity, and tears. I will look
on them no more.
In three parts of the visible circle, whose centre is this spire, I
discern cultivated fields, villages, white country-seats, the waving
lines of rivulets, little placid lakes, and here and there a rising
ground, that would fain be termed a hill. On the fourth side is the sea,
stretching away towards a viewless boundary, blue and calm, except where
the passing anger of a shadow flits across its surface, and is gone.
Hitherward, a broad inlet penetrates far into the land; on the verge of
the harbor, formed by its extremity, is a town; and over it am I, a
watchman, all-heeding and unheeded. O that the multitude of chimneys
could speak, like those of Madrid, and betray, in smoky whispers, the
secrets of all who, since their first foundation, have assembled at the
hearths within! O that the Limping Devil of Le Sage would perch beside
me here, extend his wand over this contiguity of roofs, uncover every
chamber, and make me familiar with their inhabitants! The most desirable
mode of existence might be that of a spiritualized Paul Pry hovering
invisible round man and woman, witnessing their deeds, searching into
their hearts, borrowing brightness from their felicity, and shade from
their sorrow, and retaining no emotion peculiar to himself. But none of
these things are possible; and if I would know interior of brick walls,
or the mystery of human bosoms, I can but guess.
Yonder is a fair street, extending north and south. The stately mansions
are placed each on its carpet of verdant grass, and a long flight of
steps descends from every door to the pavement. Ornamental trees--the
broad-leafed horse-chestnut, the elm so lofty and bending, the graceful
but infrequent willow, and others whereof I know not the names--grow
thrivingly among brick and stone. The oblique rays of the sun are
intercepted by these green citizens, and by the houses, so that one side
of the street is a shaded and pleasant walk. On its whole extent there
is now but a single passenger, advancing from the upper end; and be,
unless distance and the medium of a pocket spyglass do him more than
justice, is a fine young man of twenty. He saunters slowly forward,
slapping his left hand with his folded gloves, bending his eyes upon the
pavement, and sometimes raising them to throw a glance before him.
Certainly, he has a pensive air. Is he in doubt, or in debt? Is he, if
the question be allowable, in love? Does he strive to be melancholy and
gentlemanlike? Or, is he merely overcome by the heat? But I bid him
farewell, for the present. The door of one of the houses--an
aristocratic edifice, with curtains of purple and gold waving from the
windows--is now opened, and down the steps come two ladies, swinging
their parasols, and lightly arrayed for a summer ramble. Both are young,
both are pretty; but methinks the left-hand lass is the fairer of the
twain; and, though she be so serious at this moment, I could swear that
there is a treasure of gentle fun within her. They stand talking a
little while upon the steps, and finally proceed up the street.
Meantime, as their faces are now turned from me, I may look elsewhere.
Upon that wharf, and down the corresponding street, is a busy contrast to
the quiet scene which I have just noticed. Business evidently has its
centre there, and many a man is wasting the summer afternoon in labor and
anxiety, in losing riches, or in gaining them, when he would be wiser to
flee away to some pleasant country village, or shaded lake in the forest,
or wild and cool seabeach. I see vessels unlading at the wharf, and
precious merchandise strewn upon the ground, abundantly as at the bottom
of the sea, that market whence no goods return, and where there is no
captain nor supercargo to render an account of sales. Here, the clerks
are diligent with their paper and pencils, and sailors ply the block and
tackle that hang over the hold, accompanying their toil with cries, long
drawn and roughly melodious, till the bales and puncheons ascend to upper
air. At a little distance, a group of gentlemen are assembled round the
door of a warehouse. Grave seniors be they, and I would wager--if it
were safe, in these times, to be responsible for any one--that the least
eminent among them might vie with old Vicentio, that incomparable
trafficker of Pisa. I can even select the wealthiest of the company.
It is the elderly personage, in somewhat rusty black, with powdered hair,
the superfluous whiteness of which is visible upon the cape of his coat.
His twenty ships are wafted on some of their many courses by every breeze
that blows, and his name--I will venture to say, though I know it not--is
a familiar sound among the far-separated merchants of Europe and the
Indies.
But I bestow too much of my attention in this quarter. On looking again
to the long and shady walk, I perceive that the two fair girls have
encountered the young man. After a sort of shyness in the recognition,
he turns back with them. Moreover, he has sanctioned my taste in regard
to his companions by placing himself on the inner side of the pavement,
nearest the Venus to whom I--enacting on a steeple-top, the part of Paris
on the top of Ida--adjudged the golden apple.
In two streets, converging at right angles towards my watchtower,
I distinguish three different processions. One is a proud array of
voluntary soldiers, in bright uniform, resembling, from the height whence
I look down, the painted veterans that garrison the windows of a toyshop.
And yet, it stirs my heart; their regular advance, their nodding plumes,
the sunflash on their bayonets and musket-barrels, the roll of their
drums ascending past me, and the fife ever and anon piercing
through,--these things have wakened a warlike fire, peaceful though I be.
Close to their rear marches a battalion of schoolboys, ranged in crooked
and irregular platoons, shouldering sticks, thumping a harsh and unripe
clatter from an instrument of tin, and ridiculously aping the intricate
manoeuvres of the foremost band. Nevertheless, as slight differences are
scarcely perceptible from a church-spire, one might be tempted to ask,
"Which are the boys?" or, rather, "Which the men?" But, leaving these,
let us turn to the third procession, which, though sadder in outward
show, may excite identical reflections in the thoughtful mind. It is a
funeral. A hearse, drawn by a black and bony steed, and covered by a
dusty pall; two or three coaches rumbling over the stones, their drivers
half asleep; a dozen couple of careless mourners in their every-day
attire; such was not the fashion of our fathers, when they carried a
friend to his grave. There is now no doleful clang of the bell to
proclaim sorrow to the town. Was the King of Terrors more awful in those
days than in our own, that wisdom and philosophy have been able to
produce this change? Not so. Here is a proof that he retains his proper
majesty. The military men, and the military boys, are wheeling round the
corner, and meet the funeral full in the face. Immediately the drum is
silent, all but the tap that regulates each simultaneous footfall. The
soldiers yield the path to the dusty hearse and unpretending train, and
the children quit their ranks, and cluster on the sidewalks, with
timorous and instinctive curiosity. The mourners enter the churchyard at
the base of the steeple, and pause by an open grave among the
burial-stones; the lightning glimmers on them as they lower down the
coffin, and the thunder rattles heavily while they throw the earth upon
its lid. Verily, the shower is near, and I tremble for the young man and
the girls, who have now disappeared from the long and shady street.
How various are the situations of the people covered by the roofs beneath
me, and how diversified are the events at this moment befalling them; The
new-born, the aged, the dying, the strong in life, and the recent dead
are in the chambers of these many mansions. The full of hope, the happy,
the miserable, and the desperate dwell together within the circle of my
glance. In some of the houses over which my eyes roam so coldly, guilt
is entering into hearts that are still tenanted by a debased and trodden
virtue,--guilt is on the very edge of commission, and the impending deed
might be averted; guilt is done, and the criminal wonders if it be
irrevocable. There are broad thoughts struggling in my mind, and, were I
able to give them distinctness, they would make their way in eloquence.
Lo! the raindrops are descending.
The clouds, within a little time, have gathered over all the sky, hanging
heavily, as if about to drop in one unbroken mass upon the earth. At
intervals, the lightning flashes from their brooding hearts, quivers,
disappears, and then comes the thunder, travelling slowly after its
twin-born flame. A strong wind has sprung up, howls through the darkened
streets, and raises the dust in dense bodies, to rebel against the
approaching storm. The disbanded soldiers fly, the funeral has already
vanished like its dead, and all people hurry homeward,--all that have a
home; while a few lounge by the corners, or trudge on desperately, at
their leisure. In a narrow lane, which communicates with the shady
street, I discern the rich old merchant, putting himself to the top of
his speed, lest the rain should convert his hair-powder to a paste.
Unhappy gentleman! By the slow vehemence, and painful moderation
wherewith he journeys, it is but too evident that Podagra has left its
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Medical Experts.
INVESTIGATION OF INSANITY BY JURIES.
Read before the Santa Clara Medical Society,
SEPTEMBER 4, 1877.
_By W. S. THORNE, M. D._
SAN JOSE:
"THE PIONEER" PRINT, COMMERCIAL BANK BUILDING.
1877.
Medical Experts.
_Mr. President and Gentlemen of the Santa Clara Medical Society:_
In the almost infinite variety of human affairs there are possibly none
more complex than those which are involved in adjusting the legal
relations of the insane. And, certainly, no duty which the medical man
is called to perform so tries his patience or tests his knowledge and
his experience as the character of medical witness in Judicial
investigations.
The points to which I particularly desire to call your attention
to-night are the following, to-wit:
First.--The present uncertain position occupied by medical experts in
California Courts.
Second.--The provision in our civil code which enables a person, who has
been declared insane before a commission of lunacy, to demand a Judicial
investigation before a Jury.
My own limited capacity, Mr. President, and the presence here to-night
of older and more experienced members of the profession admonish me
that my theme is ill-chosen, and whilst I feel that my effort is
properly prefaced by an apology, I am likewise impressed with the
conviction, that it is my duty and privilege to raise my voice, feeble
though it be, against abuses which are alike derogatory to our
profession and an injustice to society.
It is a confession no less mortifying than true, that medical experts,
in California Courts, have no legal rights, and their testimony elicits
neither respectable consideration nor carries with it authoritative
weight. I assume | 2,216.406553 |
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AUNT CRETE’S EMANCIPATION
[Illustration: “SHE WATCHED LUELLA’S DISMAYED FACE WITH GROWING
ALARM”]
Aunt Crete’s Emancipation
BY
GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL-LUTZ
Author of “The Girl from Montana,”
“The Story of a Whim,” Etc.
ILLUSTRATIONS BY
CLARA E. ATWOOD
THE GOLDEN RULE COMPANY
TREMONT TEMPLE
BOSTON, MASS.
_Copyright, 1911_
BY THE GOLDEN RULE COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A TELEGRAM AND A FLIGHT 11
II. THE BACKWOODS COUSIN 25
III. A WONDERFUL DAY 39
IV. AUNT CRETE TRANSFORMED 61
V. LUELLA AND HER MOTHER ARE MYSTIFIED 79
VI. AN EMBARRASSING MEETING 96
VII. LUELLA’S HUMILIATION 117
VIII. AUNT CRETE’S PARTNERSHIP 132
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
“SHE WATCHED LUELLA’S DISMAYED FACE WITH GROWING
ALARM” _Frontispiece_
“HE HELPED WITH VIGOR” 31
“DONALD WATCHED HER WITH SATISFACTION” 52
“SHE BEAMED UPON THE WHOLE TRAINFUL OF PEOPLE” 63
“‘SOMEWHERE I HAVE SEEN THAT WOMAN,’ EXCLAIMED LUELLA’S
MOTHER” 81
“THEY STOOD FACE TO FACE WITH THE WONDERFUL LADY IN
THE GRAY GOWN” 102
“‘IT’S A LIE! I SAY IT’S A LIE!’” 123
“AUNT CRETE WAS AT LAST EMANCIPATED” 143
Aunt Crete’s Emancipation
CHAPTER I
A TELEGRAM AND A FLIGHT
“WHO’S at the front door?” asked Luella’s mother, coming in from
the kitchen with a dish-towel in her hand. “I thought I heard the
door-bell.”
“Luella’s gone to the door,” said her sister from her vantage-point at
the crack of the sitting-room door. “It looks to me like a telegraph
boy.”
“It couldn’t be, Crete,” said Luella’s mother impatiently, coming to
see for herself. “Who would telegraph now that Hannah’s dead?”
Lucretia was short and dumpy, with the comfortable, patient look of the
maiden aunt that knows she is indispensable because she will meekly
take all the burdens that no one else wants to bear. Her sister could
easily look over her head into the hall, and her gaze was penetrative
and alert.
“I’m sure I don’t know, Carrie,” said Lucretia apprehensively; “but I’m
all of a tremble. Telegrams are dreadful things.”
“Nonsense, Crete, you always act like such a baby. Hurry up, Luella.
Don’t stop to read it. Your aunt Crete will have a fit. Wasn’t there
anything to pay? Who is it for?”
Luella, a rather stout young woman in stylish attire, with her mother’s
keen features unsoftened by sentiment, advanced, irreverently tearing
open her mother’s telegram and reading it as she came. It was one of
the family grievances that Luella was stout like her aunt instead
of tall and slender like her mother. The aunt always felt secretly
that they somehow blamed her for being of that type. “It makes one so
hard to fit,” Luella’s mother remarked frequently, and adding with a
disparaging glance at her sister’s dumpy form, “So impossible!”
At such times the aunt always wrinkled up her pleasant little
forehead into a V upside down, and trotted off to her kitchen, or her
buttonholes, or whatever was the present task, sighing helplessly. She
tried to be the best that she could always; but one couldn’t help one’s
figure, especially when one was partly dependent on one’s family for
support, and dressmakers and tailors took so much money. It was bad
enough to have one stout figure to fit in the family without two; and
the aunt always felt called upon to have as little dressmaking done
as possible, in order that Luella’s figure might be improved from the
slender treasury. “Clothes do make a big difference,” she reflected.
And sometimes when she was all alone in the twilight, and there was
really nothing that her alert conscience could possibly put her hand to
doing for the moment, she amused herself by thinking what kind of dress
she would buy, and who should make it, if she should suddenly attain a
fortune. But this was a harmless amusement, inasmuch as she never let
it make her discontented with her lot, or ruffle her placid brow for an
instant.
But just now she was “all of a tremble,” and the V in her forehead was
rapidly becoming a double V. She watched Luella’s dismayed face with
growing alarm.
“For goodness’ sake alive!” said Luella, flinging herself into the most
comfortable rocker, and throwing her mother’s telegram on the table.
“That’s not to be tolerated! Something’ll have to be done. We’ll have
to go to the shore at once, mother. I should die of mortification to
have a country cousin come around just now. What would the Grandons
think if they saw him? I can’t afford to ruin all my chances for a
cousin I’ve never seen. Mother, you simply must do something. I won’t
stand it!”
“What in the world are you talking about, Luella?” said her mother
impatiently. “Why didn’t you read the telegram aloud, or why didn’t you
give it to me at once? Where are my glasses?”
The aunt waited meekly while her sister found her glasses, and read the
telegram.
“Well, I declare! That is provoking to have him | 2,216.464536 |
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Early Western Travels
1748-1846
Volume XXVI
Early Western Travels
1748-1846
A Series of Annotated Reprints of some of the best and
rarest contemporary volumes of travel, descriptive of
the Aborigines and Social and Economic Conditions in
the Middle and Far West, during the Period of Early
American Settlement
Edited with Notes, Introductions, Index, etc., by
Reuben Gold Thwaites, LL.D.
Editor of "The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents,"
"Original Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition,"
"Hennepin's New Discovery," etc.
Volume XXVI
Part I of Flagg's The Far West, 1836-1837
[Illustration]
Cleveland, Ohio
The Arthur H. Clark Company
1906
COPYRIGHT 1906, BY
THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
The Lakeside Press
R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY
CHICAGO
CONTENTS OF VOLUME XXVI
PREFACE TO VOLUMES XXVI AND XXVII. _The Editor_ 9
THE FAR WEST: OR, A TOUR BEYOND THE MOUNTAINS. Embracing
Outlines of Western Life and Scenery; Sketches of the
Prairies, Rivers, Ancient Mounds, Early Settlements
of the French, etc. etc. (The first thirty-two chapters,
being all of Vol. I of original, and pp. 1-126 of Vol. II.)
_Edmund Flagg._
Copyright Notice 26
Author's Dedication 27
Author's Preface 29
Author's Table of Contents 33
Text (chapters i-xxxii; the remainder appearing in
our volume xxvii) 43
ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOLUME XXVI
Map of Oregon; drawn by H. J. Kelley, 1830 24
Facsimile of title-page to Vol. I of Flagg's _The Far West_ 25
PREFACE TO VOLUMES XXVI-XXVII
These two volumes are devoted to reprints of Edmund Flagg's _The Far
West_ (New York, 1838), and Father Pierre Jean de Smet's _Letters and
Sketches, with a Narrative of a Year's Residence among the Indian
Tribes of the Rocky Mountains_ (Philadelphia, 1843). Flagg's
two-volume work occupies all of our volume xxvi and the first part of
volume xxvii, the remaining portion of the latter being given to De
Smet's book.
Edmund Flagg was prominent among early American prose writers, and
also ranked high among our minor poets. A descendant of the Thomas
Flagg who came to Boston from England, in 1637, Edmund was born
November 24, 1815, at Wescasset, Maine. Being graduated with
distinction from Bowdoin College in 1835, in the same year he went
with his mother and sister Lucy to Louisville, Kentucky. Here, in a
private school, he taught the classics to a group of boys, and
contributed articles to the Louisville _Journal_, a paper with which
he was intermittently connected, either as editorial writer or
correspondent, until 1861.
The summer and autumn of 1836 found Flagg travelling in Missouri and
Illinois, and writing for the _Journal_ the letters which were later
revised and enlarged to form _The Far West_, herein reprinted.
Tarrying at St. Louis in the autumn of 1836, our author began the
study of law, and the following year was admitted to the bar; but in
1838 he returned to newspaper life, taking charge for a time of the
St. Louis _Commercial Bulletin_. During the winter of 1838-39 he
assisted George D. Prentice, founder of the Louisville _Journal_, in
the work of editing the Louisville _Literary News Letter_. Finding,
however, that newspaper work overtaxed his health, Flagg next accepted
an invitation to enter the law office of Sergeant S. Prentiss at
Vicksburg, Mississippi, where in addition to his legal duties he found
time to edit the Vicksburg _Whig_. Having been wounded in a duel with
James Hagan of the _Sentinel_ in that city, Flagg returned to the less
excitable North and undertook editorial duties upon the _Gazette_ at
Marietta, Ohio (1842-43), and later (1844-45) upon the St. Louis
_Evening Gazette_. He also served as official reporter of the Missouri
state constitutional convention the following year, and published a
volume of its debates; subsequently (until 1849) acting as a court
reporter in St. Louis.
The three succeeding years were spent abroad; first as secretary to
Edward A. Hannegan, United States minister to Berlin, and later as
consul at Venice. In February, 1852, he returned to America, and
during the presidential campaign of that year edited a Democratic
journal at St. Louis, known as the _Daily Times_. Later, as a reward
for political service, he was made superintendent of statistics in the
department of state, at Washington--a bureau having special charge of
commercial relations. Here he was especially concerned with the
compilation of reports on immigration and the cotton and tobacco
trade, and published a _Report on Commercial Relations of the United
States with all Foreign Nations_ (4 vols., Washington, 1858). Through
these reports, particularly the last named, Flagg's name became
familiar to merchants in both the United States and Europe. From 1857
to 1860 he was Washington correspondent for several Western
newspapers, and from 1861 to 1870 served as librarian of copyrights in
the department of the interior. Having in 1862 married Kate Adeline,
daughter of Sidney S. Gallaher, of Virginia, he moved to Highland
View in that state (1870), and died there November 1, 1890.
In addition to his labors in the public service and as a newspaper
man, Flagg found time for higher literary work, and won considerable
distinction in that field. His first book, _The Far West_, although
somewhat stilted in style, possesses considerable literary merit.
Encouraged by the success of his initial endeavor, he wrote the
following year (1839) the _Duchess of Ferrara_ and _Beatrice of
Padua_, two novels, each of which passed through at least two
editions. The _Howard Queen_ (1848) and _Blanche of Artois_ (1850)
were prize productions. _De Molai_ (1888), says the New York _Sun_ of
the period, is "a powerful, dramatic tale which seems to catch the
very spirit of the age of Philip of France. It is rare to find a story
in which fact and invention are so evenly and adroitly balanced." Our
author also wrote several dramas, which were staged in Louisville,
Cincinnati, St. Louis, and New York; he also composed numerous poems
for newspapers and magazines. His masterpiece, however, was a history
dedicated to his lifelong friend and colleague, George D. Prentice,
entitled _The City of the Sea_ (2 vols., New York, 1853). This work
was declared by the _Knickerbocker_ to be "a carefully compiled,
poetically-written digest of the history of the glorious old Venice--a
passionate, thrilling, yet accurate and sympathetic account of the
last struggle for independence." At the time of his death Flagg had in
preparation a volume of reminiscences, developed from a diary kept
during forty years, but this has never been published.[1]
[1] For a list of Flagg's prose and poetical writings, contributions
to periodicals, and editorial works, see "Annual Report of the
Librarian of Bowdoin College for the year ending June 1, 1891,"
in Bowdoin College _Library Bulletin_ (Brunswick, Maine, 1895).
"In hope of renovating the energies of a shattered constitution," we
are told, Flagg started in the early part of June, 1836, on a journey
to what was then known as the Far West. Taking a steamboat at
Louisville, he went to St. Louis by way of the Ohio and the
Mississippi, and after a brief delay ascended the latter to the mouth
of the Illinois, and thence on to Peoria. Prevented by low water from
proceeding farther, he returned by the same route to St. Louis, whence
after three weeks' stay, spent either in the sick chamber or in making
short trips about the city and its environs, the traveller crossed the
Mississippi and struck out on horseback across the Illinois prairies,
visiting Edwardsville, Alton, Carlinsville, Hillsborough, Carlisle,
Lebanon, Belleville, and the American Bottoms. In July, after
recrossing the Mississippi, he visited in like manner St. Charles,
Missouri, by way of Bellefontaine and Florissant; crossed the
Mississippi near Portage des Sioux, and passed through the Illinois
towns of Grafton, Carrollton, Manchester, Jacksonville, Springfield,
across Grand Prairie to Shelbyville, Mount Vernon, Pinkneyville, and
Chester, and returned to St. Louis by way of the old French
settlements of Kaskaskia, Prairie du Rocher, and Cahokia.
During this journey Flagg wrote for the Louisville _Journal_, as
already stated, a series of letters describing the country through
which he travelled. Hastily thrown together from the pages of his note
book, this correspondence appeared anonymously under the title,
"Sketches of a Traveller." They were, however, soon attributed to
Flagg, and two years later were collected by the author and published
in two small volumes by Harper and Brothers (New York, 1838), as _The
Far West_. These volumes are in many respects the best description of
the Middle West that had appeared up to the time they were written.
Roughly following the journals of Michaux, Harris, and Cuming by
forty, thirty, and twenty years respectively, Flagg skillfully shows
the remarkable growth and development of the Western country. His
descriptions of the Ohio, Mississippi, and Illinois rivers are still
among the best in print, particularly from the artistic standpoint.
His account of the steamboat traffic is valuable for the history of
navigation on the Western rivers, and shows vividly the obstacles
which still confronted merchants of that time. Chapters xi, xii, and
xiii, dealing with St. Louis and its immediate vicinity, are the most
detailed in our series, while the descriptions of St. Charles and the
Illinois towns through which Flagg passed, are excellent.
The modern reader cannot but wish that Flagg had devoted less space to
his youthful philosophizing, but the atmosphere is at least wholesome.
Unlike Harris, whose criticism of Western society was keen and acrid,
Flagg was a man of broad sympathies, possessing an insight into human
nature remarkable for so youthful a writer--for he was but twenty
years of age at the time of his travels, and twenty-two when the book
was published. Although mildly reproving the old French settlers for
their lack of enterprise, he fully appreciates their domestic virtues,
and gives a faithful picture of these pleasure-loving, contented,
unprogressive people. His description of the once thriving villages of
Kaskaskia, Prairie du Rocher, and Cahokia, are valuable historically,
as showing the decay settling upon the French civilization after a few
years of American occupation. Our author's interview with the Mormon
convert, his conversations with early French and American settlers,
his accounts of political meetings, his anecdotes illustrating Western
curiosity, and particularly his carefully-recounted local traditions,
throw much light on the beliefs, manners, and customs of the Western
people of his time. _The Far West_ is thus not only a graphic and
often forceful description of the interesting region through which the
author travelled, but a sympathetic synopsis of its local annals,
affording much varied information not otherwise obtainable. The
present reprint, with annotations that seek to correct its errors,
will, we think, prove welcome in our series.
In the _Letters and Sketches_ of Father de Smet, we reprint another
Western classic, related to the volumes of Flagg by their common
terminus of travel at St. Louis.
No more interesting or picturesque episode has occurred in the history
of Christian missions in the New World, than the famous visit made in
the autumn of 1831 to General William Clark at St. Louis by the
Flathead chiefs seeking religious instruction for their people.
Vigorously exploited in the denominational papers of the East, this
delegation aroused a sentiment that led to the founding of Protestant
missions in Oregon and western Idaho, and incidentally to the solution
of the Oregon question. But in point of fact, the Flathead deputation
was sent to secure a Catholic missionary; and not merely one but four
such embassies embarked for St. Louis before the great desideratum, a
"black robe" priest, could be secured for ministration to this
far-distant tribe. Employed in the Columbian fur-trade were a number
of Christian Iroquois from Canada, who had been carefully trained at
St. Regis and Caughnawaga in all the observances of the Roman Catholic
church. Upon the Pacific waterways and in the fastnesses of the
Rockies, these Iroquois taught their fellow Indians the ordinances of
the church and the commands of the white man's Great Spirit. John
Wyeth (see our volume xxi) testifies to the honesty and humanity of
the Flathead tribe: "they do not lie, steal, nor rob any one, unless
when driven too near to starvation." He also testifies that they
"appear to keep the Sabbath;" and that their word is "as good as the
Bible." These were the neophytes who craved instruction, and to whom
was assigned that remarkable Jesuit missionary, Father Jean Pierre de
Smet.
Born in Belgium in 1801, young De Smet was educated in a religious
school at Malines. When twenty years of age he responded to an appeal
to cross the Atlantic and carry the gospel to the red men of the
Western continent. Arrived in Philadelphia (1821), the young Belgian
was astonished to see a well-built town, travelled roads, cultivated
farms, and other appurtenances of civilization; he had expected only a
wilderness and savages. Two years were spent in the Jesuit novitiate
in Maryland, before the zealous youth saw any traces of frontier life.
Then the youthful novice was removed to Florissant, Missouri, not far
from St. Louis, where the making of a log-cabin and the breaking of
fresh soil furnished a mild foretaste of his future career. Still more
years elapsed before the cherished project of missionary labor could
be realized. In 1829 St. Louis University was founded, and herein the
young priest, who had been ordained in 1827, was employed upon the
instructional force. Later years (1833-37) were spent in Europe, while
recruiting his health and securing supplies for the infant university.
It was not until 1838 that the first missionary enterprise was
undertaken by Father de Smet, when a chapel for the Potawatomi was
built on the site of the modern Council Bluffs. There, in 1839, the
fourth Flathead deputation rested after the long journey from their
Rocky Mountain home; and at the earnest solicitation of the young
missioner, he was in the spring of 1840, detailed by his superior to
ascertain and report upon the prospects of a mission to the mountain
Indians.
Of the two tribesmen who had come down to St. Louis, Pierre the
Left-handed (Gaucher) was sent back to his people with news of the
success of the embassy, while his colleague Ignace was detained to
serve as guide to the adventurous Jesuit who in April, 1840, set forth
for the Flathead country with the annual fur-trade caravan. The route
traversed was the well-known Oregon Trail as far as the Green River
rendezvous; there the father was rejoiced to meet a deputation of ten
Flatheads, sent to escort him to their habitat, and at Prairie de la
Messe was celebrated for them the first mass in the Western mountains.
The trail led them on through Jackson's and Pierre's Holes; and in the
latter valley the waiting tribesmen to the number of sixteen hundred
had collected, and received the "black robe" as a messenger from
Heaven. Chants and prayers were heard on every side; "in a fortnight,"
reports the delighted missionary, "all knew their prayers." After two
months spent among his "dear Flatheads," wandering with them across
the divide, and encamping for some time at the Three Forks of the
Missouri--where nearly forty years before Lewis and Clark first
encountered the Western Indians--De Smet took leave of his neophytes.
Protected by a strong guard through the hostile Blackfeet country, he
arrived at last at the fur-trade post of Fort Union at the junction of
the Missouri and the Yellowstone. Descending thence to St. Louis he
arrived there on the last day of December, 1840.
The remainder of the winter was occupied in preparations for a new
journey, and in securing men and supplies for the equipment of the
far-away mission begun under such favorable auspices. Once more the
father departed from Westport--this time in May, 1841. The little
company consisted, besides himself, of two other priests and three lay
brothers, all of the latter being skilled mechanics. Among the members
of the caravan were a number of California pioneers, one of whom has
thus related his impressions of the young missionary: "He was genial,
of fine presence, and one of the saintliest men I have ever known, and
I cannot wonder that the Indians were made to believe him divinely
protected. He was a man of great kindness and great affability under
all circumstances; nothing seemed to disturb his temper."[2]
[2] John Bidwell, "First Emigrant Train to California," in
_Century Magazine_, new series, xix, pp. 113, 114.
Father de Smet's letters describe in detail the scenery and incidents
of the route from the eastern border of Kansas to Fort Hall, in Idaho,
where the British factor received the travellers with abounding
hospitality. Here some of the Flatheads were in waiting to convey the
missionaries to the tribe, the chiefs of which met them in Beaver Head
Valley, Montana, and testified their welcome with dignified
simplicity. Passing over to the waters of the Columbia, they founded
the mission of St. Mary upon the first Sunday in October, in the
beautiful Bitter Root valley at the site of the later Fort Owen.
Thence Father de Smet made a rapid journey in search of provisions to
Fort Colville, on the upper Columbia, but was again at his mission
stockade before the close of the year. In April a longer journey was
projected, as far as Fort Vancouver, on the lower Columbia, where Dr.
McLoughlin, the British factor, received the good priest with that
cordial greeting for which he was already famous. During this journey
the father narrowly escaped drowning in the turbulent rapids of the
Columbia, where five of his boatmen perished. Returned to St. Mary's,
the prospects for a harvest of souls both among the Flatheads and the
neighboring tribes appeared so promising that the missionary
determined to seek re-enforcement and further aid in Europe. Thereupon
he left his companions in charge of the "new Paraguay" of his hopes,
and once more undertook the long and adventurous journey to the
settlements, this time by way of the Yellowstone and Missouri rivers,
arriving at St. Louis the last of October, 1842. At this point the
journeys detailed in the volume here reprinted come to an end. The
later career of Father de Smet and his subsequent journeyings will be
detailed in the preface to volumes xxviii and xxix, in the latter of
which will appear his _Oregon Missions_.
Father de Smet's writings on missionary subjects ended only with his
death, and were increasingly voluminous and detailed. The _Letters and
Sketches_ were his first published work, with the exception of a
portion of a compilation that appeared in 1841, on the Jesuit missions
of Missouri. We find therefore, in the present reprint, the vitality
and enthusiasm of the young traveller relating new scenes, and the
abounding joy of the successful missionary uplifting a barbaric race.
The book was written with the avowed purpose of creating interest in
his newly-organized work, and securing contributions therefor. The
freshness of description, the wholesome simplicity of the narrative,
the frank presentation of wilderness life, charm the reader, and make
this book a classic of early Western exploration. Cast in the form of
letters, wherein there is more or less repetition of statement, it is
nevertheless evident that these have been subjected to a certain
editorial revision, and that literary quality has been considered.
Aside from the interest evoked by the personality of the writer, and
the events of his narrative, the work throws much light upon
wilderness travel, the topography and scenery of the Rocky Mountain
region, and above all upon the habits and customs, modes of thought,
social standards, and religious conceptions of the important tribes of
the interior.
After the present series of reprints had been planned for, and
announced in a detailed prospectus, there was issued from the press of
Francis P. Harper of New York the important volumes edited by Major H.
M. Chittenden and Alfred Talbot Richardson, entitled _Life, Letters,
and Travels of Father Pierre Jean de Smet, S. J., 1801-73_. This
publication contains much new material, derived from manuscript
sources, which has been interwoven in chronological order with the
missionary's several books; and to it all have been added an adequate
biography and bibliography of De Smet. This scholarly work has been of
great service to us in preparing for accurate reprint the original
editions of the only two of Father de Smet's publications that fall
within the chronological field of our series.
In the preparation for the press of Flagg's _The Far West_, the Editor
has had the assistance of Clarence Cory Crawford, A. M.; in editing
Father de Smet's _Letters and Sketches_, his assistant has been Louise
Phelps Kellogg, Ph.D.
R. G. T.
MADISON, WIS., April, 1906.
PART I OF FLAGG'S THE FAR WEST, 1836-1837
Reprint of Volume I, and chapters xxiii-xxxii of Volume II, of
original edition: New York, 1838
[Illustration: MAP OF OREGON.]
THE FAR WEST:
OR,
A TOUR BEYOND THE MOUNTAINS.
EMBRACING
OUTLINES OF WESTERN LIFE AND SCENERY; SKETCHES
OF THE PRAIRIES, RIVERS, ANCIENT MOUNDS, EARLY
SETTLEMENTS OF THE FRENCH, ETC., ETC.
"If thou be a severe, sour-complexioned man, then I here
disallow thee to be a competent judge."--IZAAK WALTON.
"I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and
cry, ''Tis all barren.'"--STERNE.
"Chacun a son stile; le mien, comme vous voyez, n'est pas
laconique."--ME. DE SEVIGNE.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
NEW-YORK:
PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS
NO. 82 CLIFF-STREET.
1838.
[Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1838, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York.]
TO ONE--
AT WHOSE SOLICITATION THESE VOLUMES WERE COMMENCED, AND
WITH WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT THEY HAVE BEEN COMPLETED--
TO MY SISTER LUCY
ARE THEY AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.
TO THE READER
"He that writes
Or makes a feast, more certainly invites
His judges than his friends; there's not a guest
But will find something wanting or ill dress'd."
In laying before the majesty of the public a couple of volumes like
the present, it has become customary for the author to disclaim in his
preface all original design of _perpetrating a book_, as if there were
even more than the admitted _quantum_ of sinfulness in the act.
Whether or not such disavowals now-a-day receive all the credence they
merit, is not for the writer to say; and whether, were the prefatory
asseveration, as in the present case, diametrically opposed to what it
often is, the reception would be different, is even more difficult to
predict. The articles imbodied in the following volumes were, a
portion of them, in their original, hasty production, _designed_ for
the press; yet the author unites in the disavowal of his predecessors
of all intention at that time of perpetrating _a book_.
In the early summer of '36, when about starting upon a ramble over the
prairies of the "Far West," in hope of renovating the energies of a
shattered constitution, a request was made of the writer, by the
distinguished editor of the Louisville Journal, to contribute {vi} to
the columns of that periodical whatever, in the course of his
pilgrimage, might be deemed of sufficient interest.[1] A series of
articles soon after made their appearance in that paper under the
title, "_Sketches of a Traveller_." They were, as their name purports,
mere sketches from a traveller's _portfeuille_, hastily thrown upon
paper whenever time, place, or opportunity rendered convenient; in the
steamboat saloon, the inn bar-room, the log-cabin of the wilderness,
or upon the venerable mound of the Western prairie. With such favour
were these hasty productions received, and so extensively were they
circulated, that the writer, on returning from his pilgrimage to "the
shrine of health," was induced, by the solicitations of partial
friends, to enter at his leisure upon the preparation for the press of
a mass of MSS. of a similar character, written at the time, which had
never been published; a thorough revision and enlargement of that
which had appeared, united with _this_, it was thought, would furnish
a passable volume or two upon the "Far West." Two years of residence
in the West have since passed away; and the arrangement for the press
of the fugitive sheets of a wanderer's sketch-book would not yet,
perhaps, have been deemed of sufficient importance to warrant the
necessary labour, had he not been daily reminded that his productions,
whatever their merit, were already public property so far as could be
the case, and at the mercy of | 2,216.745546 |
2023-11-16 18:54:00.8387770 | 248 | 82 |
Produced by Charlene Taylor, Paul Clark, Marilynda
Fraser-Cunliffe and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible, including inconsistencies in hyphenation. It seems that
the italic typeface used in this book did not have an ae ligature.
Names of genera and higher taxonomic groups are not capitalized in
the printed book: they have bee left unchanged. Some changes have
been made. They are listed at the end of the text.
Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.
OE ligatures have been expanded.
THE RIDDLE OF THE UNIVERSE
[Illustration: ERNST HAECKEL]
THE RIDDLE
OF THE UNIVERSE
_AT THE CLOSE OF
THE NINETEENTH CENTURY_
BY
ERNST HAECKEL
(Ph.D., M.D., LL.D., Sc.D., and Professor at the
University of Jena)
AUTHOR OF "THE HISTORY OF | 2,216.858817 |
2023-11-16 18:54:00.8478750 | 918 | 17 |
Produced by The Internet Archive Children's Library, Ted Garvin and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
OLD BALLADS
_Illustrated by
JOHN EYRE R.B.A._
CONTENTS.
COME, LASSES AND LADS
COMIN' THRO' THE RYE
CHERRY-RIPE
ANNIE LAURIE
ROBIN ADAIR
MOLLY BAWN
GO, HAPPY ROSE!
THE ANCHOR'S WEIGH'D
ALICE GRAY
HOME, SWEET HOME
JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO
MY PRETTY JANE
ROCK'D IN THE CRADLE OF THE DEEP
THE MINSTREL BOY
ON THE BANKS OF ALLAN WATER
AULD LANG SYNE
WITHIN A MILE OF EDINBURGH TOWN
THE NIGHT-PIECE TO JULIA
TOM BOWLING
MY LOVE IS LIKE THE RED RED ROSE
WIDOW MALONE
THE JOLLY YOUNG WATERMAN
CALLER HERRIN'
A HUNTING WE WILL GO
HEARTS OF OAK
THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN
THE BAY OF BISCAY O!
BLACK-EYED SUSAN
DUNCAN GRAY
THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF ISLINGTON
THE MILLER OF DEE
THE ANGEL'S WHISPER
SIMON THE CELLARER
AULD ROBIN GRAY
BONNIE DUNDEE
SALLY IN OUR ALLEY
KITTY OF COLERAINE
HERE'S TO THE MAIDEN OF BASHFUL FIFTEEN
THE LEATHER BOTTEL
WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE
THE TOKEN
O WERT THOU IN THE CAULD BLAST
THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE
LOVELY NAN
THE LASS OF RICHMOND HILL
TELL ME NOT, SWEET
SHE WORE A WREATH OF ROSES
O NANNY, WILT THOU GO WITH ME?
D'YE KEN JOHN PEEL?
* * * * *
COME, LASSES AND LADS.
Come, lasses and lads,
get leave of your dads,
And away to the Maypole hie,
For ev'ry fair has a sweetheart there,
And the fiddler's standing by;
For Willy shall dance with Jane,
And Johnny has got his Joan,
To trip it, trip it, trip it, trip it,
Trip it up and down!
"You're out," says Dick; "not I," says Nick,
"'Twas the fiddler play'd it wrong;"
"'Tis true," says Hugh, and so says Sue,
And so says ev'ry one.
The fiddler than began
To play the tune again,
And ev'ry girl did trip it, trip it,
Trip it to the men!
Then, after an hour, they went to a bow'r,
And play'd for ale and cakes;
And kisses too,--until they were due,
The lasses held the stakes.
The girls did then begin
To quarrel with the men,
And bade them take their kisses back,
And give them their own again!
"Good-night," says Harry;
"good-night," says Mary;
"Good-night," says Poll to John;
"Good-night," says Sue
to her sweetheart Hugh;
"Good-night," says ev'ry one.
Some walk'd and some did run,
Some loiter'd on the way,
And bound themselves by kisses twelve,
To meet the next holiday.
_Anon._
COMING THRO' THE RYE.
Gin a body meet a body
Comin' thro' the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need a body cry?
Ilka lassie has her laddie,
Nane, they say, hae I,
Yet a' the lads they smile at me
When comin' thro' the rye.
Gin a body meet a body
Comin' frae the town,
Gin a body meet a body,
Need a body frown?
Ilka lass | 2,216.867915 |
2023-11-16 18:54:00.9255590 | 423 | 7 |
Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net/ for Project
Gutenberg (This file was partially produced from images
generously made available by The Internet Archive/American
Libraries.)
The Philippine Islands, 1493-1898
Explorations by early navigators, descriptions of the islands and
their peoples, their history and records of the catholic missions,
as related in contemporaneous books and manuscripts, showing the
political, economic, commercial and religious conditions of those
islands from their earliest relations with European nations to the
close of the nineteenth century,
Volume L, 1764-1800
Edited and annotated by Emma Helen Blair and James Alexander Robertson
with historical introduction and additional notes by Edward Gaylord
Bourne.
The Arthur H. Clark Company
Cleveland, Ohio
MCMVII
CONTENTS OF VOLUME L
Preface 9
Document of 1764-1800
Events in Filipinas, 1764-1800. [Compiled from Montero y
Vidal's Historia de Filipinas.] 23
Miscellaneous Documents, 1766-1771
Financial affairs of the islands, 1766. Francisco Leandro
de Viana; Manila, July 10, 1766. 77
Letter from Viana to Carlos III. F. L. de Viana; Manila,
May 1, 1767. 118
Anda's Memorial to the Spanish government. Simon de Anda
y Salazar; Madrid, April 12, 1768. 137
Ordinances of good government. [Compiled by Governors
Corcuera (1642), Cruzat y Góngora (1696), and Raón
(1768).] 191
Instructions to the secular clergy. Basilio Sancho de | 2,216.945599 |
2023-11-16 18:54:00.9314880 | 2,412 | 11 | The Project Gutenberg Etext of Two Years Before the Mast
by Richard Henry Dana
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you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
time to the person you received it from. If you received it | 2,216.951528 |
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MODERN LEADERS:
_BEING A SERIES OF_
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES.
BY JUSTIN McCARTHY,
_Author of "Lady Judith: A Tale of Two Continents," etc._
NEW YORK:
SHELDON & COMPANY,
677 BROADWAY and 214 and 216 MERCER STREET.
1872.
CONTENTS.
QUEEN VICTORIA AND HER SUBJECTS. 7
THE REAL LOUIS NAPOLEON. 18
EUGENIE, EMPRESS OF THE FRENCH. 25
THE PRINCE OF WALES. 35
THE KING OF PRUSSIA. 45
VICTOR EMANUEL, KING OF ITALY. 55
LOUIS ADOLPH THIERS. 66
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 77
THE DUKE OF CAMBRIDGE. 85
BRIGHAM YOUNG. 96
THE LIBERAL TRIUMVIRATE OF ENGLAND. 106
ENGLISH POSITIVISTS. 116
ENGLISH TORYISM AND ITS LEADERS. 126
"GEORGE ELIOT" AND GEORGE LEWES. 136
GEORGE SAND. 145
EDWARD BULWER AND LORD LYTTON. 156
"PAR NOBILE FRATRUM--THE TWO NEWMANS." 167
ARCHBISHOP MANNING. 175
JOHN RUSKIN. 183
CHARLES READE. 192
EXILE-WORLD OF LONDON. 202
THE REVEREND CHARLES KINGSLEY. | 2,218.14625 |
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Transcribed | 2,218.248986 |
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Produced by David Widger
THE GHOSTS
AND OTHER LECTURES.
By Robert G. Ingersoll.
New York, N. Y. C.
P. FARRELL, PUBLISHER,
1892.
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1878,
by Robert G. Ingersoll
ECKLER, PRINTER, 35 FULTON ST., N. Y.
The idea of immortality, that like a sea has ebbed and
flowed in the human heart, with its countless waves of hope
and fear, beating against the shores and rocks of time and
fate, was not born of any book, nor of any creed, nor of any
religion. It was born of human affection, and it will
continue to ebb and flow beneath the mists and clouds of
doubt and darkness as long as love kisses the lips of death.
CONTENTS:
PREFACE.
THE GHOSTS.
THE LIBERTY OF MAN, WOMAN AND CHILD
LIBERTY OF WOMAN.
THE LIBERTY OF CHILDREN.
CONCLUSION.
1776. THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.
ABOUT FARMING IN ILLINOIS.
SPEECH AT CINCINNATI
"THE PAST RISES BEFORE ME LIKE A DREAM."
THE GRANT BANQUET
A TRIBUTE TO THE Rev. ALEXANDER CLARK.
A TRIBUTE TO EBON C. INGERSOLL,
PREFACE.
These lectures have been so maimed and mutilated by orthodox malice;
have been made to appear so halt, crutched and decrepit by those who
mistake the pleasures of calumny for the duties of religion, that in
simple justice to myself I concluded to publish them.
Most of the clergy are, or seem to be, utterly incapable of discussing
anything in a fair and catholic spirit. They appeal, not to reason,
but to prejudice; not to facts, but to passages of scripture. They can
conceive of no goodness, of no spiritual exaltation beyond the horizon
of their creed. Whoever differs with them upon what they are pleased to
call "fundamental truths" is, in their opinion, a base and infamous man.
To re-enact the tragedies of the Sixteenth Century, they lack only
the power. Bigotry in all ages has been the same. Christianity simply
transferred the brutality of the Colosseum to the Inquisition. For the
murderous combat of the gladiators, the saints substituted the _auto de
fe_. What has been called religion is | 2,218.348165 |
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Produced by PG Distributed Proofreaders
THE GOSPELS IN THE SECOND CENTURY
_AN EXAMINATION OF THE CRITICAL PART OF A WORK
ENTITLED 'SUPERNATURAL RELIGION'_
BY
W. SANDAY, M.A.
_Rector of Barton-on-the-Heath, Warwickshire;
and late Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford.
Author of a Work on the Fourth Gospel._
LONDON:
1876.
_I had hoped to inscribe in this book the revered and cherished
name of my old head master, DR. PEARS of Repton. His consent had
been very kindly and warmly given, and I was just on the point of
sending the dedication to the printers when I received a telegram
naming the day and hour of his funeral. His health had for some
time since his resignation of Repton been seriously failing, but I
had not anticipated that the end was so near. All who knew him
will deplore his too early loss, and their regret will be shared
by the wider circle of those who can appreciate a life in which
there was nothing ignoble, nothing ungenerous, nothing unreal. I
had long wished that he should receive some tribute of regard from
one whom he had done his best by precept, and still more by
example, to fit and train for his place and duty in the world.
This pleasure and this honour have been denied me. I cannot place
my book, as I had hoped, in his hand, but I may still lay it
reverently upon his tomb._
CONTENTS
CHAP.
I. INTRODUCTORY
II. ON QUOTATIONS GENERALLY IN THE EARLY CHRISTIAN WRITERS
III. THE APOSTOLIC FATHERS
IV. JUSTIN MARTYR
V. HEGESIPPUS--PAPIAS
VI. THE CLEMENTINE HOMILIES
VII. BASILIDES AND VALENTINUS
VIII. MARCION
IX. TATIAN--DIONYSIUS OF CORINTH
X. MELITO--APOLLINARIS--ATHENAGORAS--THE EPISTLE OF VIENNE AND LYONS
XI. PTOLOMAEUS AND HERACLEON--CELSUS--THE MURATORIAN FRAGMENT
XII. THE EXTERNAL EVIDENCE FOR THE FOURTH GOSPEL
XIII. ON THE STATE OF THE CANON IN THE LAST QUARTER OF THE SECOND CENTURY
XIV. CONCLUSION
[ENDNOTES]
APPENDIX. SUPPLEMENTAL NOTE ON THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MARCION'S GOSPEL
INDICES
PREFACE.
It will be well to explain at once that the following work has
been written at the request and is published at the cost of the
Christian Evidence Society, and that it may therefore be classed
under the head of Apologetics. I am aware that this will be a
drawback to it in the eyes of some, and I confess that it is not
altogether a recommendation in my own.
Ideally speaking, Apologetics ought to have no existence distinct
from the general and unanimous search for truth, and in so far as
they tend to put any other consideration, no matter how high or
pure in itself, in the place of truth, they must needs stand aside
from the path of science.
But, on the other hand, the question of true belief itself is
immensely wide. It is impossible to approach what is merely a
branch of a vast subject without some general conclusions already
formed as to the whole. The mind cannot, if it would, become a
sheet of blank paper on which the writing is inscribed by an
external process alone. It must needs have its _praejudicia_--
i.e. judgments formed on grounds extrinsic to the special matter
of enquiry--of one sort or another. Accordingly we find that an
absolutely and strictly impartial temper never has existed and
never will. If it did, its verdict would still be false, because
it would represent an incomplete or half-suppressed humanity.
There is no question that touches, directly or indirectly, on the
moral and spiritual nature of man that | 2,218.348229 |
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Transcriber's Note
Led by the belief that the spelling and punctuation of each
entry is based directly on the original title pages no
intentional 'corrections' have been made to the content. The
text in this e-book is as close to the original printed text
as pgdp proofing and postprocessing could get it. In some
entries larger spaces are used as spacers between
bibliographic fields instead of punctuation. These have been
retained to the best of our ability and are represented as
non-breaking spaces.
A CATALOGUE OF
Books in English
later than 1700, forming
a portion of the Library
of Robert Hoe New
York 1905
EX
LIBRIS
ROBERT
HOE
VOLUME II
CATALOGUE
VOLUME II
ONE HUNDRED COPIES ONLY, INCLUDING
THREE UPON IMPERIAL
JAPANESE VELLUM--PRINTED BY
THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE
A Catalogue of Books
in English
Later than 1700
Forming a Portion of the Library
of Robert Hoe
[Illustration]
VOLUME II
Privately Printed
New York. 1905
THIS CATALOGUE WAS COMPILED BY
CAROLYN SHIPMAN
THE CATALOGUE
HADEN, SIR FRANCIS SEYMOUR.--The Etched Work of Rembrandt critically
considered. By Francis Seymour Haden,... 1877. 110 copies privately
printed for the Author. [London, Metchim & Son] _4to, paper._
First edition. Three photogravure plates.
HADEN, SIR FRANCIS SEYMOUR.--About Etching. Part I. Notes by Mr. Seymour
Haden on a collection of etchings and engravings by the great masters
lent by him to the Fine Art Society to illustrate the subject of
etching. Part II. An annotated catalogue of the examples exhibited of
etchers and painter-engravers' work. Illustrated with An original
Etching by Mr. Seymour Haden, and fifteen facsimiles of Etchings.
[London] The Fine Art Society... 1879. _4to, half brown morocco, gilt
top, uncut edges._
First edition.
HAEBLER, KONRAD.--The Early Printers of Spain and Portugal By Konrad
Haebler London printed for the Bibliographical Society at the Chiswick
Press March 1897 for 1896. _Royal 4to, original paper wrappers, uncut
edges._
Woodcut frontispiece and thirty-three plates.
No. IV. of Illustrated Monographs issued by the Bibliographical Society.
HAFIZ.--The D[=i]v[=a]n, written in the fourteenth century, by [Persian
name] Khw[=a]ja Shamsu-d-D[=i]n Muham-mad-i [H.][=a]fi[z:]-i-Sh[=i]r[=a]z[=i]
otherwise known as Lis[=a]nu-l-[.Gh=]aib and Tarjum[=a]nu-l-Asr[=a]r.
Translated for the first time out of the Persian into English prose, with
critical and explanatory remarks, with an introductory preface, with a
note on S[=u]f[=i],ism, and with a life of the author, by Lieut.-Col. H.
Wilberforce Clarke,... [Calcutta] 1891. _4to, two volumes, cloth._
HAGGARD AND LANG.--The World's Desire by H. Rider Haggard and Andrew
Lang. London: Longmans, Green, and Co. 1890. _Crown 8vo, cloth, uncut
edges._
First edition.
HALIBURTON, THOMAS CHANDLER.--The Letter Bag of the Great Western; or,
Life in a Steamer.... By the author of "The Sayings and Doings of
Samuel Slick." London: Richard Bentley,... 1840. _Crown 8vo, cloth,
uncut edges._
First English edition.
HALIBURTON, THOMAS CHANDLER.--The Attache; or, Sam Slick in England. By
the author of "The Clockmaker; or, Sayings and Doings of Sam Slick," &c.
... Second edition. [First Series] London: Richard Bentley,...
1843. _Crown 8vo, two volumes, cloth, uncut edges._
HALIBURTON, THOMAS CHANDLER.--The Attache; or, Sam Slick in England. By
the author of "The Clockmaker; or, Sayings and Doings of Sam Slick,"...
Second and last series.... London: Richard Bentley,... 1844.
_Crown 8vo, two volumes, cloth, uncut edges._
First edition of the Second Series.
HALIBURTON, THOMAS CHANDLER.--The Clockmaker; or the Sayings and Doings
of Samuel Slick, of Slickville.... London: Richard Bentley,...
1843. [-M. DCCC. XL.] _Crown 8vo, three volumes, cloth, uncut edges._
These sketches, as far as Chapter XXI., originally appeared in "The Nova
Scotian" newspaper. Volume III, Third Series, is the first edition,
dated 1840.
Three frontispieces drawn and etched by A. Hervieu.
HALIBURTON, THOMAS CHANDLER.--The Old Judge; or, Life in a Colony. By
the author of "Sam Slick, the Clock maker," &c... London: Henry
Colburn,... 1849. _Crown 8vo, two volumes, cloth, uncut edges._
First English edition.
HALIBURTON, THOMAS CHANDLER.--Rule and Misrule of the English in
America. By the author of "Sam Slick, the Clockmaker,"... London:
Colburn and Co.,... 1851. _Crown 8vo, two volumes, cloth, uncut
edges._
Presumably the first issue of the first English edition, published under
the same title as the first New York edition of the same date.
As the title-page of the following issue omits the words "Rule and
Misrule," it is probable that the alteration to "The English in America"
was made in deference to English sensibilities. The half-titles in both
issues are the same, "The English in America."
HALIBURTON, THOMAS CHANDLER.--The English in America. By the author of
"Sam Slick, the Clockmaker," &c... London: Colburn and Co.,...
1851. _Crown 8vo, two volumes, cloth, uncut edges._
Presumably the second issue of the first English edition.
HALIBURTON, THOMAS CHANDLER.--Sam Slick's Wise Saws and Modern
Instances; or, what he said, did, or invented.... Second [English]
Edition.... London: Hurst and Blackett,... 1854. _Crown 8vo, two
volumes, cloth, uncut edges._
HALIBURTON, THOMAS CHANDLER.--Nature and Human Nature. By the author of
"Sam Slick, the Clockmaker," &c.... London: Hurst and Blackett,...
1855. _Crown 8vo, two volumes, cloth, uncut edges._
First edition.
HALIFAX, CHARLES MONTAGUE, EARL OF.--Poems on Several Occasions. By the
Right Honourable Charles Earl of Halifax. London: Printed [for E. Curll
&c] in the Year M D C C X V. _8vo, calf, gilt back, gilt edges, by
Bedford._
Portrait by M. Van der Gucht.
Collation: Title, A1 (verso blank). "On the Earl of Halifax's Poems. By
Mr. Addison," (verses). A2, Dedication "To the Right Honourable George,
Earl of Halifax," the author's nephew, by the Editor. A3 (misprinted
A2)-A4 (verso blank). Preface, A1, repeated. Poems, etc., pages 1-92.
Memoirs, pages 1-264. Copy of the Will of Lord Halifax, pages i-viii.
HALIFAX, CHARLES MONTAGUE, EARL OF.--(I.) The Works and Life Of the
Right Honourable Charles, late Earl of Halifax. Including the History of
his Lordship's Times. London: Printed for E. Curll,... J.
Pemberton,... and J. Hooke,... M DCCXV.... (II.) [Same title as
in the preceding item.] _8vo, Cambridge calf._
Portrait by M. Van der Gucht.
Another issue of the same edition, with a general title-page and without
the verses by Addison. The sheets of the text are the same as in the
other issue.
Collation: General title (I. above), A1 (verso blank). Dedication to
George, Earl of Halifax, A2-A3 (verso blank). Preface, A4. Second title
(II. above), A1, repeated. The remainder of the volume is like the
preceding issue.
HALL, H. BYNG.--The Adventures of a Bric-a-Brac Hunter, by Major H. Byng
Hall... London: Tinsley Brothers... 1868.... _Post 8vo, cloth,
uncut edges._
HALLAM, HENRY.--Introduction to the Literature of Europe, in the
fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries. By Henry Hallam...
London: John Murray... MDCCCXXXVII. [-XXXIX.] _8vo, four volumes,
blue levant morocco, gilt back, gilt over uncut edges, by Bedford._
First edition. Illustrated by the insertion of four hundred and fifty
portraits, the majority being proofs, of which one hundred and five are
on India paper. The portraits include fine examples of engraving by
Faithorne, Hollar, Marshall, Crispin de Pass, Delaram, Nanteuil,
Ficquet, Vertue, and others, and a drawing of Sir John Davies.
HALLAM, HENRY.--Introduction to the Literature of Europe, in the
fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries. By Henry Hallam,...
Third edition.... London; John Murray,... 1847. _8vo, three
volumes, boards, uncut edges._
HALLAM, HENRY.--The Constitutional History of England from the accession
of Henry VII. to the death of George II. By Henry Hallam. Fifth edition
.... London; John Murray,... 1846. _8vo, two volumes, boards, uncut
edges._
HALLAM, HENRY.--View of the State of Europe during the Middle Ages. [and
Supplemental Notes] By Henry Hallam.... Ninth edition.... London:
John Murray,... 1846. [-1848] _8vo, three volumes, boards, uncut
edges._
HALLECK, FITZ-GREENE.--Fanny.... New York: published by C. Wiley &
Co.... 1819. _8vo, brown levant morocco, gilt back, gilt top, uncut
edges, with the original paper covers, by Riviere._
First edition, with the half-title.
HALLECK, FITZ-GREENE.--Alnwick Castle, with other Poems. New York:
published by G. & C. Carvill,... Elliott & Palmer, Printers, 1827.
_8vo, citron levant morocco, gilt back and sides, gilt top, uncut edges,
with the original brown paper wrappers bound in, by David._
First edition.
HALLECK, FITZ-GREENE.--Alnwick Castle, with other poems. By Fitz-Greene
Halleck. New York: Harper & Brothers,... 1845. _12mo, brown satin
covers._
Engraved title.
HALLECK, FITZ-GREENE.--The Poetical Works of Fitz-Greene Halleck. Now
first collected. Illustrated with steel engravings, From Drawings by
American Artists. Second edition. New York: D. Appleton & Company...
MDCCCXLVIII. _4to, cloth, uncut edges._
Portrait, engraved title, and five plates by Durand, Huntington, Leutze,
and others.
HALLECK AND DRAKE.--The Poetical Writings of Fitz-Greene Halleck, with
extracts from those of Joseph Rodman Drake. Edited by James Grant
Wilson. New York: D. Appleton and Company,... 1869. _Royal 8vo,
cloth, uncut edges._
No. 36 of one hundred and fifty copies printed on large paper. Two
portraits, one by J. Cheney after C. L. Elliott, engraved title-page,
and six other plates after Leutze, Durand, Weir, and others.
HALLECK, FITZ-GREENE.--See Drake, J. R.
HALLIWELL-PHILLIPPS, JAMES ORCHARD, _editor_.--The Jokes of the
Cambridge Coffee-houses in the seventeenth century. Edited by James
Orchard Halliwell, Esq. Cambridge; Thomas Stevenson;... 1841. _12mo,
red morocco, gilt top, by Alfred Matthews._
J | 2,218.507548 |
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Produced by Charlene Taylor, Christine P. Travers and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
(This file was produced from images generously made
available by The Internet Archive)
[Transcriber's note: Obvious printer's errors have been corrected.
Hyphenation and accentuation have been standardised, all other
inconsistencies are as in the original. The author's spelling has been
maintained.
Page 382: Words are missing in the sentence "The genuine leaders of
the Socialists should [...] the labor organizations realized
immediately the policy which the dark forces were initiating." The
place is marked with [see TN].]
THE STORY OF THE GREAT WAR
History of the European War from Official Sources
Complete Historical Records of Events to Date,
Illustrated with Drawings, Maps, and Photographs
Prefaced by
What the War Means to America
Major General Leonard Wood, U.S.A.
Naval Lessons of the War
Rear Admiral Austin M. Knight, U.S.N.
The World's War
Frederick Palmer
Theatres of the War's Campaigns
Frank H. Simonds
The War Correspondent
Arthur Ruhl
Edited by
Francis J. Reynolds
Former Reference Librarian of Congress
Allen L. Churchill
Associate Editor, The New International Encyclopedia
Francis Trevelyan Miller
Editor in Chieft, Photographic History of the Civil War
P. F. Collier & Son Company
New York
[Illustration: _Major General John J. Pershing, appointed to organize
and command the American forces in France, is shown landing in France
on June 12, 1917. French officers and officials of high rank are there
to welcome him. His arrival is recognized as an epoch-making date in
the war, for it foreshadows the creation of a great American Army in
France._]
THE STORY OF THE GREAT WAR
SOMME. RUSSIAN DRIVE
FALL OF GORITZ. RUMANIA
GERMAN RETREAT. VIMY
REVOLUTION IN RUSSIA
UNITED STATES AT WAR
VOLUME VI
P. F. Collier & Son. New York
Copyright 1916
By P. F. Collier & Son
CONTENTS
PART I.--WESTERN FRONT--SOMME AND VERDUN
CHAPTER Page
I. French and British Advances 9
II. Further Successes--French Capture Maurepas 13
III. German Counterattacks 16
IV. Operations at Verdun--British Victories in the Somme 19
V. The "Tanks"--British Capture Martinpuich 21
VI. Capture of Combles--Air Raids 25
VII. British Capture Eaucourt L'Abbaye-Regina Trench 28
VIII. Continued Allied Advance 31
IX. French Retake Douaumont 34
X. Germans Lose Fort Vaux--French Take Saillisel 37
XI. British Successes in the Ancre 41
XII. Operations on the French Front--Further Fighting in
the Ancre 47
XIII. Weather Conditions--Movements Around Loos 51
XIV. French Win at Verdun 53
XV. Canadians at Arras--Nivelle in Command 55
XVI. German Attacks at Verdun--Result of Six Months' Fighting 58
XVII. German Attack on Hill 304--British Surprise Attack 61
PART II.--EASTERN FRONT
XVIII. The New Drive Against Lemberg 70
XIX. The Battle on the Stokhod River 76
XX. Renewed Drive Against Lemberg 81
XXI. The Fighting from Riga to Lutsk 86
XXII. Fighting in the Carpathians 90
XXIII. Winter at the Eastern Front 93
PART III.--THE BALKANS
XXIV. Rumania's Military Strength 95
XXV. Hostilities Begin 96
XXVI. Bulgaria Attacks 98
XXVII. The Germans Arrive 103
XXVIII. The Rumanian Raid Across the Danube 106
XXIX. Mackensen Pressed Back 111
XXX. The Rumanians Pressed Back 113
XXXI. The Battle of the River Argechu 117
XXXII. Bucharest Falls 119
XXXIII. Sarrail's Offensive 124
XXXIV. Unrest in Greece 126
XXXV. A Greek Army Surrenders to Germany 129
XXXVI. The Serbians Advance 132
XXXVII. The Greeks on the Firing Line 134
XXXVIII. Seizure of the Greek Fleet 136
XXXIX. The Bulgarians Driven Back 138
XL. Monastir Falls 140
XLI. Greek Fights Greek 143
XLII. Fighting in the Streets of Athens 145
XLIII. The Serbians Checked 148
PART IV.--AUSTRO-ITALIAN FRONT
XLIV. The Fall of Goritz 149
XLV. Fall and Winter on the Austro-Italian Front 153
XLVI. Fighting on Mountain Peaks 159
PART V.--WAR IN THE AIR AND ON THE SEA
XLVII. Aeroplane Warfare 168
XLVIII. Zeppelin Raids 176
XLIX. Submarine Warfare 182
PART VI.--THE UNITED STATES AND THE BELLIGERENTS
L. The Old Menace 189
LI. The U-53's Exploits 194
LII. Gathering Clouds 200
LIII. Rupture With Germany 205
LIV. Nothing Settled 212
PART VII.--WESTERN FRONT
LV. The German Retreat on the Ancre 217
LVI. The German Retreat Continues--French Recover 120 Towns 227
LVII. The British Troops Capture Vimy Ridge and Monchy--French
Victories on the Aisne 239
LVIII. French Victories in Champagne--The British Capture
Bullecourt 252
LIX. The Battle of Messines Ridge--British Smash the
German Salient South of Ypres 263
LX. The Germans Defeat British on Belgian Coast--Intense
Fighting in the Champagne and at Verdun 276
PART VIII.--THE UNITED STATES AND GERMANY
LXI. The Interim 291
LXII. Berlin's Tactics 297
LXIII. Armed Neutrality 304
LXIV. Germany's Bid to Mexico 312
LXV. A State of War 317
LXVI. Building the War Machine 328
LXVII. Men and Money in Millions 344
LXVIII. Envoys from America's Allies 351
LXIX. In It at Last 356
PART IX.--THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION
LXX. Foreshadowing Revolution 363
LXXI. The Rise of Nihilism 365
LXXII. Revolutionary Doctrines 367
LXXIII. Russian War Spirit Aroused 372
LXXIV. Rasputin, the Evil Spirit of Russia 374
LXXV. Treachery of the Autocracy 378
LXXVI. Party Intrigues 380
LXXVII. The Work of Traitors 383
LXXVIII. Threatening of the Storm 386
LXXIX. Revolution 389
LXXX. The Culmination 392
LXXXI. The New Government 395
LXXXII. The Czar Abdicates 400
LXXXIII. First Acts of the New Regime 404
LXXXIV. Socialism Supreme 406
LXXXV. Policies Proclaimed 409
LXXXVI. Kerensky Saves Russia from Herself 412
LXXXVII. The American Commissions 416
PART X.--EASTERN FRONT
LXXXVIII. The End of Winter at the Eastern Front 421
LXXXIX. Effects of the Russian Revolution 424
XC. The Beginning of Russian Rehabilitation 428
XCI. The Russian July Offensive 433
XCII. The Capture of Halicz and Kalusz 436
XCIII. The Collapse of the Russian Offensive 440
XCIV. The Russian Rout in Galicia and the Bukowina 445
PART XI.--AUSTRO-ITALIAN FRONT
XCV. Stalemate on the Italian Fronts 452
XCVI. Spring on the Austro-Italian Front 457
XCVII. The Italian Drive Against Trieste 462
XCVIII. The Height of the Italian Offensive 468
PART XII.--WAR ON THE SEA
XCIX. Submarine Warfare 475
C. Naval Operations 480
PART XIII.--WAR IN THE AIR
CI. Aerial Warfare 485
CII. Air Raids 492
INDEX 495
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
General Pershing Landing at Boulogne, France _Frontispiece_
Opposite Page
Sir Douglas Haig and Marshal Joffre 30
Notice Posted in French Munitions Works 62
General von Mackensen in Rumania 110
British Armored Motor Car, or "Tank" 222
Curtain or Barrage Fire 286
Woodrow Wilson, President of the United States 302
American Naval Gunners Fighting Submarines 350
A. F. Kerensky Addressing Russian Troops 430
LIST OF MAPS
Page
Battle Lines on All Fronts, August 1, 1917
(_Colored Map_) _Front Insert_
Verdun Front, February 1, 1917 38
Allies' Gain at the Somme, up to February, 1917 66
Attack in the Riga Sector 87
Teutonic Invasion of Rumania 104
New German Submarine War Zone of February 1, 1917 207
The Entire Western Front, August 1, 1917 220
The German Retreat on the Western Front, March 18, 1917 233
Taking of Vimy Ridge by the Canadians, April 9 and 10, 1917 240
The French Offensive on the Craonne Plateau, Champagne 257
The Taking of Messines Ridge, June 7, 1917 266
The Somme Battle Front, August 1, 1917 283
The Russian Offensive and Retreat in Galicia 446
The Entire Eastern Battle Front, August 1, 1917 450
PART I--WESTERN FRONT--SOMME AND VERDUN
CHAPTER I
FRENCH AND BRITISH ADVANCES
The first month of the Allied offensive on the Somme front closed
quietly. The British and French forces had every reason to feel
encouraged over their successes. In the two thrusts since July 1,
1916, they had won from the Germans nearly twenty-four square miles of
territory. Considering the extent to which every fraction of a mile
was fortified and defended, and the thoroughness of the German
preparations to make the district impregnable, the Allied gains were
important. As a British officer said at the time, it was like digging
badgers out of holes--with the proviso that every badger had machine
guns and rifles at the hole's mouth, while the approach to each was
swept by the fire from a dozen neighboring earthworks.
It was estimated that in the first month of the Allied offensive on
the Somme the German casualties amounted to about 200,000 men, while
the Anglo-French forces lost less than a fourth of that number. The
Allies claimed to have captured about 13,000 prisoners and between
sixty and seventy field guns, exclusive of machine guns and the
smaller artillery.
With the capture of Pozieres it might be said that the second phase of
the Battle of the Somme was concluded. The Allied forces were well
established on the line to which the second main "push" which began
July 14, 1916, was directed.
During the first three days of August, 1916, comparative quiet
prevailed along the Somme front, and no important offensive was
attempted by either side. Minor fighting continued, however, every
day, and during the nights the English positions were heavily
bombarded by the German guns.
On the night of August 4, 1916, the British assumed the offensive,
advancing from Pozieres on a front of 2,000 yards. The attack, which
seems to have taken the Germans by surprise, was entirely successful,
as the British troops gained 1,000 yards of the German second line and
captured over 400 prisoners. This second line consisted of two
strongly fortified trenches running parallel, which were backed by a
network of supporting and intermediate trenches, all strongly
constructed, with deep dugouts and cunningly devised machinery of
defense. When the Australians made the thrust forward from Pozieres
while the British cooperated on the left over the ground to the east
of the village, they found when going over the enemy trenches that in
many places the British guns had wrecked and almost obliterated the
German second lines. After the British advance the Germans launched
two spirited counterattacks, which were easily repulsed by the British
artillery. The British casualties were unimportant, but the troops
suffered intensely from the heat of the evening and from the gas masks
that they were forced to wear, as previous to the attack the Germans
had bombarded with gas shells.
Minor fighting and artillery duels continued intermittently until the
morning of August 6, 1916, when the Germans delivered two fierce
attacks on the ground gained by the British east of Pozieres. The
Germans, employing liquid fire in one attack, forced the British back
from one of the trenches they had captured on August 4, 1916, but part
of this was later regained. The following day the Germans continued
their attacks north and northeast of Pozieres on the new British
lines. After heavy bombardment of the British positions, the Germans
penetrated their trenches, but were forced out again, having suffered
some casualties and leaving a number of prisoners in British hands. In
front of Souchez the Germans exploded a mine, and here some of their
troops succeeded in entering the English trenches over the crater,
but were quickly bombed out again.
On the same date late in the afternoon the French forces to the north
of the Somme carried out a well-planned attack which resulted in the
capture of a line of German trenches between the Hem Wood and the
river. The French took 120 prisoners and a number of machine guns.
On August 8, 1916, the British positions north and east of Pozieres
were heavily bombarded by German artillery. In the evening of the same
date British troops pushing forward engaged the enemy near the station
of Guillemont. A bomb attack made by the Germans on the eastern
portion of the Leipzig salient south of Thiepval was driven back with
some casualties. Two British raiding parties about the same time
succeeded in entering the German lines north of Roclincourt and blew
up some dugouts. On this date a squadron of ten German aeroplanes
endeavored to cross the British lines on a bombing expedition, but
were driven off by four British offensive patrols. Two of the German
aeroplanes were forced to descend behind their own lines, while the
others were scattered and did not return to attack. In the evening of
the same day the Germans made four attacks on the British lines to the
northwest of Pozieres, and in one were successful in occupying a
portion of a British trench.
During this day the French north of the Somme, while the British were
fighting at Guillemont, advanced east of Hill 139, north of
Hardecourt, and took forty prisoners. The Germans, making two attempts
to recapture the trenches won from them by the French on the previous
day, were beaten back, leaving a great number of dead on the field. In
the evening French troops captured a small wood and a heavily
fortified trench to the north of the Hem Wood, making their gains for
the two days, an entire line of German trenches on a front of three
and three-quarter miles and a depth of from 330 to 350 yards.
In the battered and shell-pitted region to the northwest of Pozieres
fighting between the British and German troops continued unceasingly.
The slight gains made by the British troops were won only by the
greatest risk and daring, for the whole plateau between Thiepval and
Pozieres (about 3,000 yards) lay open to the German fire from the
former place. A great part of it could be reached by machine guns,
while German batteries at Courcelette and Grandcourt commanded the
ground at close range. A network of German trenches, well planned,
stretched in almost every direction. Flares and shell fire made the
region as bright as day during the night, and it was only by rushing a
trench from saps made within a few feet of the objectives or by
breaking into a trench and bombing along it that the British were able
to achieve any small gains. And gains were made on this terrible
terrain daily, though only a few yards might be won, and a dozen or
more prisoners captured.
The British attack on the Germans around Guillemont, which took place
as previously noted on August 8, 1916, was at first successful. A
section of the troops carried some trenches, and then pushing on
gained a useful piece of ground south of Guillemont with few
casualties. Another (the left) section of British troops were unable
to proceed farther on account of the darkness. Another section, owing
to miscalculation, swept through the German trenches straight into the
village of Guillemont, where they lost their direction amid the ruins
and confusion. Working their way through the shattered streets they
proceeded to dig themselves in when they had reached the far northeast
corner of the place. With enemies all around them, and the breadth of
the ruined village between them and their friends, the adventure could
have but one conclusion. A few of the men succeeded in getting back to
the British lines, but the remainder fell into the hands of the
enemy.
CHAPTER II
FURTHER SUCCESSES--FRENCH CAPTURE MAUREPAS
In the morning of August 11, 1916, after the usual preparatory
bombardment, French troops carried the whole of the third German
position north of the Somme from the river northeast of
Hardecourt--that is to say, on a front of about four miles and to an
average depth of about a mile. This third German position consisted of
three, and in some places of four, lines of trenches strongly defended
and with the usual trench blockhouses. The French attacked in force
along the whole front, and in eighty minutes, according to the
description given in French newspapers, carried the German position at
a small cost in casualties compared with results. The Germans fought
bravely and stubbornly, but the French artillery did such effective
work before the advance attack that in the hand-to-hand conflicts that
followed the French troops readily overcame the enemy. A Bavarian
battalion which garrisoned a blockhouse on Hill 109 offered such a
determined resistance that when the victorious French finally entered
the work they found only 200 of the garrison alive.
In the afternoon of the same day, August 11, 1916, French forces north
of the Somme took several German trenches by assault and established
their new line on the saddle to the north of Maurepas and along the
road leading from the village to Hem. A strongly fortified quarry to
the north of Hem Wood and two small woods were also occupied by the
French troops. During the course of the action in this district they
took 150 unwounded prisoners and ten machine guns.
British air squadrons numbering sixty-eight machines on August 12,
1916, bombed airship sheds at Brussels and Namur, and railway sidings
and stations at Mons, Namur, Busigny, and Courtrai. Of the British
machines engaged in these attacks, all but two returned safely. In
the evening of the same day the British forces attacked the third
German position which extended from the east of Hardecourt to the
Somme east of Buscourt. On this front of about four miles the British
infantry carried the trench and works of the Germans to a depth of
from 660 to 1,100 yards. To the northwest of Pozieres the British
gained 300 to 400 yards on a front of a mile, and also captured
trenches on the plateau northwest of Bazentin-le-Petit.
The French continued to make appreciable gains south of the Somme,
carrying portions of trenches and taking some prisoners. The new
British front to the west of Pozieres was repeatedly attacked and
bombarded by the Germans, and on August 15, 1916, they succeeded in
recapturing trenches they had lost two days before. But they were
unable to hold their gains for more than a day, when the British drove
them out and consolidated the position.
During the afternoon and evening of August 16, 1916, German and French
to the north and south of the Somme engaged in heavy bombardments. At
Verdun the German lines were forced back close to Fleury, the French
taking enemy trenches and smashing a counterattack with their
artillery.
On the afternoon of August 17, 1916, there was hard fighting along the
whole Somme front from Pozieres to the river. The British gained
ground toward Ginchy and Guillemont and took over 200 prisoners,
including some officers. During the night the Germans delivered
repeated attacks against the positions the British had captured, but
only in one instance did they succeed in winning back a little ground.
On August 18, 1916, the British continued to add to their gains,
advancing on a front of more than two miles for a distance of between
200 and 600 yards. As a result of these operations carried out along
the British front from Thiepval to their right, south of Guillemont, a
distance of eleven miles, was the gain of the ridge southeast of
Thiepval commanding the village and northern <DW72>s of the high ground
north of Pozieres. The British also held the edge of High Wood and
half a mile of captured German trenches to the west of the wood.
Advances were also made to the outskirts of the village of
Guillemont, where the British occupied the railroad station and
quarry, both of some considerable military importance. As a result of
these operations the British captured sixteen officers and 780 of
other ranks.
German guns continued to shell the British positions throughout the
day and evening of August 18, 1916, but no infantry attacks were
attempted. On the following day after a heavy bombardment the Germans
made three vigorous bombing attacks on the British positions at High
Wood, all of which were repulsed, though the Germans succeeded in some
instances in gaining a foothold for a time in the British trenches. In
the aggregate the British successes in this region had in a week
resulted in the capture of trenches which, if put end to end, would
reach for a number of miles.
On August 24, 1916, the French completed the capture of Maurepas, for
which they had been battling for nearly two weeks, after seizing the
trenches to the south of the village. Maurepas was of great military
importance, for, with Guillemont on the British front, it formed
advanced works of the stronghold of Combles. The attack was launched
at five in the evening on a front of a mile and a quarter from north
of Hardecourt to southeast of Maurepas. The French troops captured the
German portion of Maurepas at the first dash, and a little later the
strong intrenchments made by the Germans to cover the Maurepas-Combles
road were in their possession. The victory was won over some of
Germany's best troops, the Fifth Bavarian Reserve Division and the
First Division of the Prussian Guard under Prince Eitel Frederick.
On the same day, August 24, 1916, the British troops on the north of
the Somme attacked the German positions in the Maurepas region and
carried with a rush that part of the village still held by the Germans
and the adjoining trenches, taking 600 prisoners and eighteen guns.
South of the village the Germans made a violent attack on the British
position at Hill 121, but owing to the concentrated fire of artillery
which mowed them down they were unable to reach the British lines at
any point.
CHAPTER III
GERMAN COUNTERATTACKS
Throughout the week the Germans attempted repeatedly to retake the
positions that had been won from them by the French and British
troops. One of the most desperate attacks made was against the British
positions between the quarry and Guillemont. After a heavy preparatory
bombardment the Germans launched an attack that took them to the edge
of the British trenches, where a desperate hand-to-hand struggle was
made in which the Germans fought with stubbornness and determination,
but were finally repulsed with heavy losses.
The new French positions gained at Maurepas were violently attacked on
August 26, 1916, but the French artillery wrought terrible havoc among
the German troops, and they withdrew in disorder. In two days the
French took over 350 prisoners in this sector.
On the evening of August 26, 1916, the British captured several
hundred yards of German trenches north of Bazentin-le-Petit and pushed
forward some distance north of Ginchy.
After gaining a trench of 470 yards south of Thiepval and taking over
200 prisoners, the British on August 24, 1916, joined up with the
French forces on the right, where important progress was made around
Maurepas. Continued hard fighting on the eastern and northern edges of
the Delville Wood advanced the British lines several hundred yards on
each side of the Longueville-Flers road. These operations resulted in
the British capturing eight officers and about 200 of other ranks.
West of Ginchy two German companies attacked the British trenches and
were driven off by machine-gun fire. Bombardment of British positions
continued during the night. Two aeroplane raids carried out by the
British airmen damaged trains on the German line of communications.
Important military points were also bombed with some success, but in
encounters with German aircraft the British lost one machine.
The importance of the Thiepval sector to the Germans was demonstrated
in their constant efforts to regain the positions there that had been
captured by the British. A great number of guns were concentrated by
the Germans in this sector. The bombardment which preceded the attack
was of unusual violence, but owing to the intrepid spirit of the men
from Wiltshire and Worcestershire, who defended the positions, the
Germans were unable to reach the trenches and withdrew in disorder.
According to an eyewitness of this attack, the first wave of German
soldiers advancing to attack was thrown in disorder by the intense
gunfire from the British positions. A second wave of men
started--swept a little | 2,218.556417 |
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Produced by David Widger
THE MEMOIRS
OF
JACQUES CASANOVA de SEINGALT
1725-1798
THE RARE UNABRIDGED LONDON EDITION OF 1894 TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR MACHEN TO WHICH HAS BEEN ADDED THE CHAPTERS DISCOVERED BY ARTHUR SYMONS.
[Transcriber's Note: These memoires were not written for children, they may outrage readers also offended by Chaucer, La Fontaine, Rabelais and The Old Testament. D.W.]
CONTENTS
ENLARGE TO FULL SIZE
VOLUME 6 -- SPANISH PASSIONS
EPISODE 26 -- SPAIN
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
EPISODE 27 -- EXPELLED FROM SPAIN
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
EPISODE 28 -- RETURN TO ROME
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
EPISODE 29 -- FLORENCE TO TRIESTE
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
EPISODE 30 -- OLD AGE AND DEATH OF CASANOVA
APPENDIX AND SUPPLEMENT
PART THE FIRST -- VENICE 1774-1782
I -- CASANOVA'S RETURN TO VENICE
II -- RELATIONS WITH THE INQUISITORS
III -- FRANCESCA BUSCHINI
IV -- PUBLICATIONS
V -- MLLE---- X----... C----... V----...
VI -- LAST DAYS AT VENICE
PART THE SECOND -- VIENNA-PARIS
I -- 1783-1785
II -- PARIS
III -- VIENNA
IV -- LETTERS FROM FRANCESCA
V -- LAST DAYS AT VIENNA
PART THE THIRD -- DUX -- 1786-1798
I -- THE CASTLE AT DUX
II -- LETTERS FROM FRANCESCA
III -- CORRESPONDENCE AND ACTIVITIES
IV -- CORRESPONDENCE WITH JEAN-FERDINAND OPIZ
V -- PUBLICATIONS
VI -- SUMMARY of MY LIFE
VII -- LAST DAYS AT DUX
VOLUME 6 -- SPANISH PASSIONS,
EPISODE 26 -- SPAIN
CHAPTER I
I Am Ordered to Leave Vienna--The Empress Moderates but Does
Not Annul the Order--Zavoiski at Munich--My Stay at
Augsburg--Gasconnade at Louisburg--The Cologne Newspaper--
My Arrival at Aix-la-Chapelle
The greatest mistake a man that punishes a knave can commit is to leave the said rogue alive, for he is certain to take vengeance. If I had had my sword in the den of thieves, I should no doubt have defended myself, but it would have gone ill with me, three against one, and I should probably have been cut to pieces, while the murderers would have escaped unpunished.
At eight o'clock Campioni came to see me in my bed, and was astonished at my adventure. Without troubling himself to compassionate me, we both began to think how we could get back my purse; but we came to the conclusion that it would be impossible, as I had nothing more than my mere assertion to prove the case. In spite of that, however, I wrote out the whole story, beginning with the girl who recited the Latin verses. I intended to bring the document before the police; however, I had not time to do so.
I was just sitting down to dinner, when an agent of the police came and gave me an order to go and speak to Count Schrotembach, the Statthalter. I told him to instruct my coachman, who was waiting at the door, and that I would follow him shortly.
When I called on the Statthalter, I found him to be a thick-set individual; he was standing up, and surrounded by men who seemed ready to execute his orders. When he saw me, he shewed me a watch, and requested me to note the hour.
"I see it."
"If you are at Vienna at that time to-morrow I shall have you expelled from the city."
"Why do you give me such an unjust order?"
"In the first place, I am not here to give you accounts or reasons for my actions. However, I may tell you that you are expelled for playing at games of chance, which are forbidden by the laws under pain of the galleys. Do you recognize that purse and these cards?"
I did not know the cards, but I knew the purse which had been stolen from me. I was in a terrible rage, and I only replied by presenting the magistrate with the truthful narrative of what had happened to me. He read it, and then said with a laugh that I was well known to be a man of parts, that my character was known, that I had been expelled from Warsaw, and that as for the document before him he judged it to be a pack of lies, since in his opinion it was altogether void of probability.
"In fine," he added, "you will obey my order to leave the town, and you must tell me where you are going."
"I will tell you that when I have made up my mind to go."
"What? You dare to tell me that you will not obey?"
"You yourself have said that if I do not go I shall be removed by force."
"Very good. I have heard you have a strong will, but here it will be of no use to you. I advise you to go quietly, and so avoid harsh measures."
"I request you to return me that document."
"I will not do so. Begone!"
This was one of the most terrible moments of my life. I shudder still when I think of it. It was only a cowardly love of life that hindered me from running my sword through the body of the Statthalter, who had treated me as if he were a hangman and not a judge.
As I went away I took it into my head to complain to Prince Kaunitz, though I had not the honour of knowing him. I called at his house, and a man I met told me to stay in the ante-chamber, as the prince would pass through to go to dinner.
It was five o'clock. The prince appeared, followed by his guests, amongst whom was M. Polo Renieri, the Venetian ambassador. The prince asked me what he could do for me, and I told my story in a loud voice before them all.
"I have received my order to go, but I shall not obey. I implore your highness to give me your protection, and to help me to bring my plea to the foot of the throne."
"Write out your petition," he replied, "and I will see that the empress gets it. But I advise you to ask her majesty for a respite, for if you say that you won't obey, she will be predisposed against you."
"But if the royal grace does not place me in security, I shall be driven away by violence."
"Then take refuge with the ambassador of your native country."
"Alas, my lord, my country has forsaken me. An act of legal though unconstitutional violence has deprived me of my rights as a citizen. My name is Casanova, and my country is Venice."
The prince looked astonished and turned to the Venetian ambassador, who smiled, and whispered to him for ten minutes.
"It's a pity," said the prince, kindly, "that you cannot claim the protection of any ambassador."
At these words a nobleman of colossal stature stepped forward and said I could claim his protection, as my whole family, myself included, had served the prince his master. He spoke the truth, for he was the ambassador of Saxony.
"That is Count Vitzthum," said the prince. "Write to the empress, and I will forward your petition immediately. If there is any delay in the answer, go to the count; you will be safe with him, until you like to leave Vienna."
In the meanwhile the prince ordered writing materials to be brought me, and he and his guests passed into the dining-hall.
I give here a copy of the petition, which I composed in less than ten minutes. I made a fair copy for the Venetian ambassador to send home to the Senate:
"MADAM,--I am sure that if, as your royal and imperial highness were walking in your garden, an insect appealed plaintively to you not to crush it, you would turn aside, and so avoid doing the poor creature any hurt.
"I, madam, am an insect, and I beg of you that you will order M. Statthalter Schrotembach to delay crushing me with your majesty's slipper for a week. Possibly, after that time has elapsed, your majesty will not only prevent his crushing me, but will deprive him of that slipper, which was only meant to be the terror of rogues, and not of an humble Venetian, who is an honest man, though he escaped from The Leads.
"In profound submission to your majesty's will,
"I remain,
"CASANOVA.
"Given at Vienna, January 21st, 1769."
When I had finished the petition, I made a fair draft of it, and sent it in to the prince, who sent it back to me telling me that he would place it in the empress's hands immediately, but that he would be much obliged by my making a copy for his own use.
I did so, and gave both copies to the valet de chambre, and went my way. I trembled like a paralytic, and was afraid that my anger might get me into difficulty. By way of calming myself, I wrote out in the style of a manifesto the narrative I had given to the vile Schrotembach, and which that unworthy magistrate had refused to return to me.
At seven o'clock Count Vitzthum came into my room. He greeted me in a friendly manner and begged me to tell him the story of the girl I had gone to see, on the promise of the Latin quatrain referring to her accommodating disposition. I gave him the address and copied out the verses, and he said that was enough to convince an enlightened judge that I had been slandered; but he, nevertheless, was very doubtful whether justice would be done me.
"What! shall I be obliged to leave Vienna to-morrow?"
"No, no, the empress cannot possibly refuse you the week's delay."
"Why not?"
"Oh! no one could refuse such an appeal as that. Even the prince could not help smiling as he was reading it in his cold way. After reading it he passed it on to me, and then to the Venetian ambassador, who asked him if he meant to give it to the empress as it stood. 'This petition,' replied the prince, ' | 2,219.68433 |
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Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Cori Samuel and the PG Online Distributed
Proofreading Team.
THE SUPPRESSED POEMS
OF
ALFRED LORD TENNYSON
1830-1868
Edited By J.C. Thomson
Contents
EDITOR'S NOTE
TIMBUCTOO
POEMS CHIEFLY LYRICAL
i. The How and the Why
ii. The Burial of Love
iii. To ----
iv. Song _'I' the gloaming light'_
v. Song _'Every day hath its night'_
vi. Hero to Leander
vii. The Mystic
viii. The Grasshopper
ix. Love, Pride and Forgetfulness
x. Chorus _'The varied earth, the moving heaven'_
xi. Lost Hope
xii. The Tears of Heaven
xiii. Love and Sorrow
xiv. To a Lady sleeping
xv. Sonnet _'Could I outwear my present state of woe'_
xvi. Sonnet _'Though night hath climbed'_
xvii. Sonnet _'Shall the hag Evil die'_
xviii. Sonnet _'The pallid thunder stricken sigh for gain'_
xix. Love
xx. English War Song
xxi. National Song
xxii. Dualisms
xxiii. [Greek: ohi rheontes]
xxiv. Song _'The lintwhite and the throstlecock'_
CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1831-32
xxv. A Fragment
xxvi. Anacreontics
xxvii. _'O sad no more! O sweet no more'_
xxviii. Sonnet _'Check every outflash, every ruder sally'_
xxix. Sonnet _'Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh'_
xxx. Sonnet _'There are three things that fill my heart with sighs'_
POEMS, 1833
xxxi. Sonnet _'Oh beauty, passing beauty'_
xxxii. The Hesperides
xxxiii. Rosalind
xxxiv. Song _'Who can say'_
xxxv. Sonnet _'Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar'_
xxxvi. O Darling Room
xxxvii. To Christopher North
xxxviii. The Lotos-Eaters
xxxix. A Dream of Fair Women
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS AND CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1833-68
xl. Cambridge
xli. The Germ of 'Maud'
xlii. _'A gate and afield half ploughed'_
xliii. The Skipping-Rope
xliv. The New Timon and the Poets
xlv. Mablethorpe
xlvi. _'What time I wasted youthful hours'_
xlvii. Britons, guard your own
xlviii. Hands all round
xlix. Suggested by reading an article in a newspaper
l. _'God bless our Prince and Bride'_
li. The Ringlet
lii. Song _'Home they brought him slain with spears'_
liii. 1865-1866
THE LOVER'S TALE, 1833.
INDEX OF FIRST LINES
_Note_
_To those unacquainted with Tennyson's conscientious methods, it may
seem strange that a volume of 160 pages is necessary to contain those
poems written and published by him during his active literary career,
and ultimately rejected as unsatisfactory. Of this considerable body
of verse, a great part was written, not in youth or old age, but while
Tennyson's powers were at their greatest. Whatever reasons may once
have existed for suppressing the poems that follow, the student of
English literature is entitled to demand that the whole body of
Tennyson's work should now be open, without restriction or impediment,
to the critical study to which the works of his compeers are
subjected._
_The bibliographical notes prefixed to the various poems give, in every
case, the date and | 2,219.89623 |
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Produced by David Edwards, Graeme Mackreth and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
YOU KNOW ME AL
RING W. LARDNER
YOU KNOW ME
AL
_A Busher's Letters_
BY
RING W. LARDNER
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
Copyright, 1916,
BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I A BUSHER'S LETTERS HOME 9
II THE BUSHER COMES BACK 45
III THE BUSHER'S HONEYMOON 83
IV A NEW BUSHER BREAKS IN 122
V THE BUSHER'S KID 166
VI THE BUSHER BEATS IT HENCE 208
YOU KNOW ME AL
YOU KNOW ME AL
CHAPTER I
A BUSHER'S LETTERS HOME
_Terre Haute, Indiana, September 6._
FRIEND AL: Well, Al old pal I suppose you seen in the paper where I
been sold to the White Sox. Believe me Al it comes as a surprise to
me and I bet it did to all you good old pals down home. You could of
knocked me over with a feather when the old man come up to me and says
Jack I've sold you to the Chicago Americans.
I didn't have no idea that anything like that was coming off. For five
minutes I was just dum and couldn't say a word.
He says We aren't getting what you are worth but I want you to go up to
that big league and show those birds that there is a Central League
on | 2,219.985 |
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Produced by Melissa McDaniel, Suzanne Shell and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
Transcriber's note:
Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have
been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
THE
SECOND JUNGLE BOOK
[Illustration: Rudyard Kipling]
[Illustration]
THE
SECOND JUNGLE BOOK
BY
RUDYARD KIPLING
[Illustration]
DECORATED BY
JOHN LOCKWOOD KIPLING, C.I.E.
NEW YORK
THE CENTURY CO.
1906
Copyright, 1895, by THE CENTURY CO.
How Fear Came, The Law of the Jungle;
The Miracle of Purun Bhagat, a Song of Kabir;
The Undertakers, a Ripple-song.
Copyright, 1894, by Bacheller, Johnson & Bacheller.
Quiquern, "Angutivun tina."
Copyright, 1895, by Irving Bacheller.
The Spring Running, The Outsong.
Copyright, 1895, by John Brisben Walker.
Letting in the Jungle, Mowgli's Song Against People.
Copyright, 1894, by Rudyard Kipling.
Red Dog, Chil's Song.
Copyright, 1895, by Rudyard Kipling.
The King's Ankus, The Song of the Little Hunter.
Copyright, 1895, by The Century Co.
THE DE VINNE PRESS.
"_Now these are the Laws of the Jungle,
and many and mighty are they;
But the head and the hoof of the Law
and the haunch and the hump is--Obey!_"
CONTENTS
PAGE
HOW FEAR CAME 1
THE LAW OF THE JUNGLE 29
THE MIRACLE OF PURUN BHAGAT 33
A SONG OF KABIR 61
LETTING IN THE JUNGLE 63
MOWGLI'S SONG AGAINST PEOPLE 112
THE UNDERTAKERS 115
A RIPPLE-SONG 155
THE KING'S ANKUS 157
THE SONG OF THE LITTLE HUNTER 191
QUIQUERN 193
"ANGUTIVUN TINA" 234
RED DOG 237
CHIL'S SONG 281
THE SPRING RUNNING 283
THE OUTSONG 321
THE
SECOND JUNGLE BOOK
The stream is shrunk--the pool is dry,
And we be comrades, thou and I;
With fevered jowl and sunken flank
Each jostling each along the bank;
And, by one drouthy fear made still,
Foregoing thought of quest or kill.
Now 'neath his dam the fawn may see
The lean Pack-wolf as cowed as he,
And the tall buck, unflinching, note
The fangs that tore his father's throat.
_The pools are shrunk--the streams are dry,
And we be playmates, thou and I,
Till yonder cloud--Good Hunting!--loose
The rain that breaks the Water Truce._
[Illustration]
HOW FEAR CAME
The Law of the Jungle--which is by far the oldest law in the
world--has arranged for almost every kind of accident that may befall
the Jungle People, till now its code is as perfect as time and custom
can make it. If you have read the other book about Mowgli, you will
remember that he spent a great part of his life in the Seeonee
Wolf-Pack, learning the Law from Baloo, the Brown Bear; and it was
Baloo who told him, when the boy grew impatient at the constant
orders, that the Law was like the Giant Creeper, because it dropped
across every one's back and no one could escape. "When thou hast lived
as long as I have, Little Brother, thou wilt see how all the Jungle
obeys at least one Law. And that will be no pleasant sight," said
Baloo.
This talk went in at one ear and out at the other, for a boy who
spends his life eating and sleeping does not worry about anything till
it actually stares him in the face. But, one year, Baloo's words came
true, and Mowgli saw all the Jungle working under the Law.
It began when the winter Rains failed almost entirely, and Ikki, the
Porcupine, meeting Mowgli in a bamboo-thicket, told him that the wild
yams were drying up. Now everybody knows that Ikki is ridiculously
fastidious in his choice of food, and will eat nothing but the very
best and ripest. So Mowgli laughed and said, "What is that to me?"
"Not much _now_," said Ikki, rattling his quills in a stiff,
uncomfortable way, "but later we shall see. Is there any more diving
into the deep rock-pool below the Bee-Rocks, Little Brother?"
"No. The foolish water is going all away, and I do not wish to break
my head," said Mowgli, who, in those days, was quite sure that he
knew as much as any five of the Jungle People put together.
"That is thy loss. A small crack might let in some wisdom." Ikki
ducked quickly to prevent Mowgli from pulling his nose-bristles, and
Mowgli told Baloo what Ikki had said. Baloo looked very grave, and
mumbled half to himself: "If I were alone I would change my
hunting-grounds now, before the others began to think. And
yet--hunting among strangers ends in fighting; and they might hurt the
Man-cub. We must wait and see how the _mohwa_ blooms."
That spring the _mohwa_ tree, that Baloo was so fond of, never
flowered. The greeny, cream-, waxy blossoms were heat-killed
before they were born, and only a few bad-smelling petals came down
when he stood on his hind legs and shook the tree. Then, inch by inch,
the untempered heat crept into the heart of the Jungle, turning it
yellow, brown, and at last black. The green growths in the sides of
the ravines burned up to broken wires and curled films of dead stuff;
the hidden pools sank down and caked over, keeping the last least
footmark on their edges as if it had been cast in iron; the
juicy-stemmed creepers fell away from the trees they clung to and died
at their feet; the bamboos withered, clanking when the hot winds
blew, and the moss peeled off the rocks deep in the Jungle, till they
were as bare and as hot as the quivering blue boulders in the bed of
the stream.
The birds and the monkey-people went north early in the year, for they
knew what was coming; and the deer and the wild pig broke far away to
the perished fields of the villages, dying sometimes before the eyes
of men too weak to kill them. Chil, the Kite, stayed and grew fat, for
there was a great deal of carrion, and evening after evening he
brought the news to the beasts, too weak to force their way to fresh
hunting-grounds, that the sun was killing the Jungle for three days'
flight in every direction.
Mowgli, who had never known what real hunger meant, fell back on stale
honey, three years old, scraped out of deserted rock-hives--honey
black as a sloe, and dusty with dried sugar. He hunted, too, for
deep-boring grubs under the bark of the trees, and robbed the wasps of
their new broods. All the game in the Jungle was no more than skin and
bone, and Bagheera could kill thrice in a night, and hardly get a full
meal. But the want of water was the worst, for though the Jungle
People drink seldom they must drink deep.
And the heat went on and on, and sucked up all the moisture, till at
last the main channel of the Waingunga was the only stream that
carried a trickle of water between its dead banks; and when Hathi, the
wild elephant, who lives for a hundred years and more, saw a long,
lean blue ridge of rock show dry in the very center of the stream, he
knew that he was looking at the Peace Rock, and then and there he
lifted up his trunk and proclaimed the Water Truce, as his father
before him had proclaimed it fifty years ago. The deer, wild pig, and
buffalo took up the cry hoarsely; and Chil, the Kite, flew in great
circles far and wide, whistling and shrieking the warning.
By the Law of the Jungle it is death to kill at the drinking-places
when once the Water Truce has been declared. The reason of this is
that drinking comes before eating. Every one in the Jungle can
scramble along somehow when only game is scarce; but water is water,
and when there is but one source of supply, all hunting stops while
the Jungle People go there for their needs. In good seasons, when
water was plentiful, those who came down to drink at the Waingunga--or
anywhere else, for that matter--did so at the risk of their lives, and
that risk made no small part of the fascination of the night's doings.
To move down so cunningly that never a leaf stirred; to wade
knee-deep in the roaring shallows that drown all noise from behind; to
drink, looking backward over one shoulder, every muscle ready for the
first desperate bound of keen terror; to roll on the sandy margin, and
return, wet-muzzled and well plumped out, to the admiring herd, was a
thing that all tall-antlered young bucks took a delight in, precisely
because they knew that at any moment Bagheera or Shere Khan might leap
upon them and bear them down. But now all that life-and-death fun was
ended, and the Jungle People came up, starved and weary, to the
shrunken river,--tiger, bear, deer, buffalo, and pig, all
together,--drank the fouled waters, and hung above them, too exhausted
to move off.
The deer and the pig had tramped all day in search of something better
than dried bark and withered leaves. The buffaloes had found no
wallows to be cool in, and no green crops to steal. The snakes had
left the Jungle and come down to the river in the hope of finding a
stray frog. They curled round wet stones, and never offered to strike
when the nose of a rooting pig dislodged them. The river-turtles had
long ago been killed by Bagheera, cleverest of hunters | 2,220.184449 |
2023-11-16 18:54:04.2247580 | 5,059 | 27 |
Produced by Demian Katz and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Images courtesy
of the Digital Library@Villanova University
(http://digital.library.villanova.edu/))
CONTENTS
Guy Kenmore's Wife; or, Her Mother's Secret
Chapter I.
Chapter II.
Chapter III.
Chapter IV.
Chapter V.
Chapter VI.
Chapter VII.
Chapter VIII.
Chapter IX.
Chapter X.
Chapter XI.
Chapter XII.
Chapter XIII.
Chapter XIV.
Chapter XV.
Chapter XVI.
Chapter XVII.
Chapter XVIII.
Chapter XIX.
Chapter XX.
Chapter XXI.
Chapter XXII.
Chapter XXIII.
Chapter XXIV.
Chapter XXV.
Chapter XXVI.
Chapter XXVII.
Chapter XXVIII.
Chapter XXIX.
Chapter XXX.
Chapter XXXI.
Chapter XXXII.
Chapter XXXIII.
Chapter XXXIV.
Chapter XXXV.
Chapter XXXVI.
Chapter XXXVII.
Chapter XXXVIII.
Chapter XXXIX.
Chapter XL.
Chapter XLI.
Chapter XLII.
Chapter XLIII.
Chapter XLIV.
Chapter XLV.
Chapter XLVI.
Chapter XLVII.
Chapter XLVIII.
Chapter XLIX.
Chapter L.
Chapter LI.
Chapter LII.
The Rose and the Lily; or, Love Wins Love
Chapter I.
Chapter II.
Chapter III.
Chapter IV.
Chapter V.
Chapter VI.
Chapter VII.
Chapter VIII.
Chapter IX.
Chapter X.
Chapter XI.
Chapter XII.
Chapter XIII.
Chapter XIV.
Chapter XV.
Chapter XVI.
Chapter XVII.
Chapter XVIII.
Chapter XIX.
Chapter XX.
Chapter XXI.
Chapter XXII.
Chapter XXIII.
Chapter XXIV.
Chapter XXV.
Chapter XXVI.
Chapter XXVII.
Chapter XXVIII.
No. 198 (EAGLE SERIES) 10 Cents
GUY KENMORE'S WIFE
AND
THE ROSE AND THE LILY
[Illustration]
BY MRS. ALEX. McVEIGH MILLER
STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
THE EAGLE SERIES
STREET & SMITH, Publishers
_The Pioneer Line of Ten-Cent Novels, and the Leader_
RETAIL PRICE, 10 Cents
This famous line was the original series of ten-cent books. Its
success was instantaneous. Millions of copies have been sold, and
an increasing demand for the entire series continues. The following
titles are in print, and can be supplied by all newsdealers.
..=199--Geoffrey's Victory. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon=
..=198--Guy Kenmore's Wife, and The Rose and the Lily. By
Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller=
..197--A Woman Scorned. By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
..196--A Sailor's Sweetheart. By St. George Rathborne.
..195--Her Faithful Knight. By Gertrude Warden.
..194--A Sinless Crime. By Geraldine Fleming.
..193--A Vagabond's Honor. By Ernest De Lancey Pierson.
..192--An Old Man's Darling, and Jaquelina. By Mrs. Alex.
McVeigh Miller.
..191--A Harvest of Thorns. By Mrs. H. C. Hoffman.
..190--A Captain of the Kaiser. By St. George Rathborne.
..189--Berris. By Katharine S. Macquoid.
..188--Dorothy Arnold's Escape. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
..187--The Black Ball. By Ernest De Lancey Pierson.
..186--Beneath a Spell. By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
..185--The Adventures of Miss Volney. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
..184--Sunlight and Gloom. By Geraldine Fleming.
..183--Quo Vadis. By Henryk Sienkiewicz.
..182--A Legal Wreck. By William Gillette.
..181--The Baronet's Bride. By May Agnes Fleming.
..180--A Lazy Man's Work. By Frances Campbell Sparhawk.
..179--One Man's Evil. By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
..178--A Slave of Circumstances. By Ernest De Lancey Pierson.
..177--A True Aristocrat. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
..176--Jack Gordon, Knight Errant. By William C. Hudson
(Barclay North)
..175--For Honor's Sake. By Laura C. Ford.
..174--Wild Margaret. By Geraldine Fleming.
..173--A Bar Sinister. By the Author of Dr. Jack.
..172--A King and a Coward. By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
..171--That Dakota Girl. By Stella Gilman.
..170--A Little Radical. By Mrs. J. H. Walworth.
..169--The Trials of an Actress. By Wenona Gilman.
..168--Thrice Lost, Thrice Won. By May Agnes Fleming.
..167--The Manhattaners. By Edward S. Van Zile.
..166--The Masked Bridal. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
..165--The Road of the Rough. By Maurice M. Minton.
..164--Couldn't Say No. By the author of Helen's Babies.
..163--A Splendid Egotist. By Mrs. J. H. Walworth.
..162--A Man of the Name of John. By Florence King.
..161--Miss Fairfax of Virginia. By the author of Dr. Jack.
..160--His Way and Her Will. By Frances Aymar Mathews.
..159--A Fair Maid of Marblehead. By Kate Tannatt Woods.
..158--Stella, the Star. By Wenona Gilman.
..157--Who Wins? By May Agnes Fleming.
..156--A Soldier Lover. By Edward S. Brooks.
..155--Nameless Dell. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
..154--Husband and Foe. By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
..153--Her Son's Wife. By Hazel Wood.
..152--A Mute Confessor. By Will N. Harben.
..151--The Heiress of Glen Gower. By May Agnes Fleming.
..150--Sunset Pass. By General Charles King.
..149--The Man She Loved. By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
..148--Will She Win. By Emma Garrison Jones.
..147--Under Egyptian Skies. By the author of Dr. Jack.
..146--Magdalen's Vow. By May Agnes Fleming.
..145--Country Lanes and City Pavements. By Maurice M.
Minton.
..144--Dorothy's Jewels. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
..143--A Charity Girl. By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
..142--Her Rescue from the Turks. By the author of Dr. Jack.
..141--Lady Evelyn. By May Agnes Fleming.
..140--That Girl of Johnsons'. By Jean Kate Ludlum.
..139--Little Lady Charles. By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
..138--A Fatal Wooing. By Laura Jean Libbey.
..137--A Wedded Widow. By T. W. Hanshew.
..136--The Unseen Bridegroom. By May Agnes Fleming.
..135--Cast Up by the Tide. By the author of Half a Truth.
..134--Squire John. By the author of Dr. Jack.
..133--Max. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
..132--Whose Was the Crime? By Gertrude Warden.
..131--Nerme's Second Choice. By Adelaide Stirling.
..130--A Bitter Bondage. By Bertha M. Clay.
..129--In Sight of St. Paul's. By Sutton Vane.
..128--The Scent of the Roses. By the author of Half a Truth.
..127--Nobody's Daughter. By Clara Augusta.
..126--The Girl from Hong Kong. By the author of Dr. Jack.
..125--Devil's Island. By A. D. Hall.
..124--Prettiest of All. By Julia Edwards.
..123--Northern Lights. By A. D. Hall.
..122--Grazia's Mistake. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
..121--Cecile's Marriage. By Lucy Randall Comfort.
..120--The White Squadron. By T. C. Harbaugh.
..119--An Ideal Love. By Bertha M. Clay.
..118--Saved From the Sea. By Richard Duffy.
..117--She Loved Him. By Charles Garvice.
..116--The Daughter of the Regiment. By Mary A. Denison.
..115--A Fair Revolutionist. By the author of Dr. Jack.
..114--Half a Truth. By a popular author.
..113--A Crushed Lily. By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
..112--The Cattle King. By A. D. Hall.
..111--Faithful Shirley. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
..110--Whose Wife Is She? By Annie Lisle.
..109--A Heart's Bitterness. By Bertha M. Clay.
..108--A Son of Mars. By the author of Dr. Jack.
..107--Carla; or, Married at Sight. By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
..106--Lilian, My Lilian. By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
..105--When London Sleeps. By Chas. Darrell.
..104--A Proud Dishonor. By Genie Holzmeyer.
..103--The Span of Life. By Sutton Vane.
..102--Fair But Faithless. By Bertha M. Clay.
..101--A Goddess of Africa. By the author of Dr. Jack.
..100--Alice Blake. By Francis S. Smith.
...99--Audrey's Recompense. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
...97--The War Reporter. By Warren Edwards.
...96--The Little Minister. By J. M. Barrie.
...95--'Twixt Love and Hate. By Bertha M. Clay.
...94--Darkest Russia. By H. Grattan Donnelly.
...93--A Queen of Treachery. By T. W. Hanshew.
...92--Humanity. By Sutton Vane.
...91--Sweet Violet. By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
...90--For Fair Virginia. By Russ Whytal.
...89--A Gentleman From Gascony. By Bicknell Dudley.
...88--Virgie's Inheritance. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
...87--Shenandoah. By J. Perkins Tracy.
...85--Lorrie; or Hollow Gold. By Charles Garvice.
...84--Between Two Hearts. By Bertha M. Clay.
...83--The Locksmith of Lyons. By Prof. Wm. Henry Peck.
...82--Captain Impudence. By Edwin Milton Royle.
...81--Wedded For an Hour. By Emma Garrison Jones.
...80--The Fair Maid of Fez. By the author of Dr. Jack.
...79--Marjorie Deane. By Bertha M. Clay.
...78--The Yankee Champion. By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr.
...77--Tina. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
...76--Mavourneen. From the celebrated play.
...75--Under Fire. By T. P. James.
...74--The Cotton King. By Sutton Vane.
...70--In Love's Crucible. By Bertha M. Clay.
...69--His Perfect Trust. By a popular author.
...68--The Little Cuban Rebel. By Edna Winfield.
...66--Witch Hazel. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
...65--Won By the Sword. By J. Perkins Tracy.
...64--Dora Tenney. By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
...63--Lawyer Bell from Boston. By Robert Lee Tyler.
...61--La Tosca. By Victorien Sardou.
...60--The County Fair. By Neil Burgess.
...59--Gladys Greye. By Bertha M. Clay.
...57--Rosamond. By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
...56--The Dispatch Bearer. By Warren Edwards.
...55--Thrice Wedded. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
...54--Cleopatra. By Victorien Sardou.
...53--The Old Homestead. By Denman Thompson.
...52--Woman Against Woman. By Effie Adelaide Rowlands.
...51--The Price He Paid. By E. Werner.
...50--Her Ransom. By Charles Garvice.
...49--None But the Brave. By Robert Lee Tyler.
...48--Another Man's Wife. By Bertha M. Clay.
...47--The Colonel By Brevet. By the author of Dr. Jack.
...46--Off With the Old Love. By Mrs. M. V. Victor.
...44--That Dowdy. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
...41--Her Heart's Desire. By Charles Garvice.
...38--The Nabob of Singapore. By the author of Dr. Jack.
...37--The Heart of Virginia. By J. Perkins Tracy.
...36--Fedora. By Victorien Sardou.
...35--The Great Mogul. By the author of Dr. Jack.
...34--Pretty Geraldine. By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
...33--Mrs. Bob. By the author of Dr. Jack.
...32--The Blockade Runner. By J. Perkins Tracy.
...31--A Siren's Love. By Robert Lee Tyler.
...30--Baron Sam. By the author of Dr. Jack.
...28--Miss Caprice. By the author of Dr. Jack.
...27--Estelle's Millionaire Lover. By Julia Edwards.
...26--Captain Tom. By the author of Dr. Jack.
...25--Little Southern Beauty. By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
...24--A Wasted Love. By Charles Garvice.
...23--Miss Pauline of New York. By the author of Dr. Jack.
...22--Elaine. By Charles Garvice.
...21--A Heart's Idol. By Bertha M. Clay.
...20--The Senator's Bride. By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
...19--Mr. Lake of Chicago. By Harry DuBois Milman.
...18--Dr. Jack's Wife. By the author of Dr. Jack.
...17--Leslie's Loyalty. By Charles Garvice.
...16--The Fatal Card. By Haddon Chambers and B. C.
Stephenson.
...15--Dr. Jack. By St. George Rathborne.
...14--Violet Lisle. By Bertha M. Clay.
...13--The Little Widow. By Julia Edwards.
...12--Edrie's Legacy. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
...11--The Gypsy's Daughter. By Bertha M. Clay.
....9--The Virginia Heiress. By May Agnes Fleming.
....8--Beautiful but Poor. By Julia Edwards.
....7--Two Keys. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
....5--The Senator's Favorite. Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
....4--For a Woman's Honor. By Bertha M. Clay.
....3--He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not. By Julia Edwards.
....2--Ruby's Reward. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
....1--Queen Bess. By Mrs. Georgie Sheldon.
Guy Kenmore's Wife
OR
HER MOTHER'S SECRET
BY
MRS. ALEX. MCVEIGH MILLER
AUTHOR OF
"Jaquelina," "An Old Man's Darling," "A Little Southern Beauty,"
"The Senator's Bride," etc.
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS
238 WILLIAM STREET
Copyright, 1883,
By NORMAN L. MUNRO
Copyright, 1901,
By STREET & SMITH
GUY KENMORE'S WIFE;
OR,
HER MOTHER'S SECRET.
By MRS. ALEX. McVEIGH MILLER.
CHAPTER I.
"The moonlight lay on the garden wall,
And bathed each path in a silver glow;
And over the towers of the grey hall
Its pearly banner was trailing low."
It was a night of nights. Moonlight--the silvery, mystical, entrancing,
love-breathing, moonlight of exquisite June--fairest daughter of the
year--lay over all the land. The bay--our own beautiful
Chesapeake--shone gloriously in the resplendent light, and rolled its
foam-capped, phosphorescent waves proudly on to the grand Atlantic.
"Ten thousand stars were in the sky,
Ten thousand in the sea.
"For every wave with dimpled crest
That leaped upon the air,
Had caught a star in its embrace,
And held it trembling there!"
A wind from the sea--cool, and salty, and delicious--came up to Bay View
House, and stole in with the moonlight to the lace-draped windows of the
parlor where a crumpled little figure crouched in a forlorn white heap
on the wide, old-fashioned window sill, sobbing desperately through the
plump little hands, in which the girlish face was hidden.
The spacious parlor with its handsome, old-fashioned furniture, and open
piano, was deserted, and the weeping of the girl echoed forlornly
through the room, and blended strangely with the whispers of the wind,
and the sounds of the sea.
Old Faith put her grotesque, white-capped head inside the parlor door.
"Miss Irene, darling, won't you come and take your tea now?" said she,
persuasively. "There's strawberry short-cake, and the reddest
strawberries, and yellowest cream," added she, artfully appealing to the
young lady's well-known epicurean tastes.
A sharp little voice answered back from the window seat:
"I won't take a thing, Faith; I mean to starve myself to death!"
"Oh, fie, my dearie, don't, now," cried Faith. "Come up-stairs, and let
me tuck you in your little white bed, there's a love!"
"I won't, so there! Go away and leave me alone, Faith," cried the girl,
through her stifled, hysterical sobs.
Exit Faith.
The wind stirred the yellow curls on the drooping head, and the
moonlight touched them with fingers of light, bringing out their glints
of gold. The great magnolia tree outside the window shook a gust of
strong, sweet perfume from the large white waxen flowers, and the scent
of June roses and lilacs came up from the old-fashioned garden. But the
sweetness and beauty of the night seemed lost on little Irene, for her
grieved sobs only burst forth afresh when Faith had departed. The
girlish bosom heaved, the tears rained through her fingers, her
smothered wail disturbed the harmony of the beautiful night.
Another step came along the hall, a hand turned the door-knob and a
handsome old man came into the room.
"Irene, my pet, my darling, where are you hiding? Come to papa," he
called, glancing around the dimly-lighted room.
With a scream of joy the little figure sprang down from its high perch
in the window, and ran precipitately into his arms.
"Oh, papa, dear papa, you are home again!" she exclaimed, laughing and
crying together, and patting his grey whiskers with her loving white
hands.
"Yes, but you aren't glad to see me one bit. You're crying because I've
come home. Shall I go back to the city, eh?" he inquired, softly
pinching her cheek, and looking at her with kind, blue eyes full of
love.
Irene hid her lovely face on his broad breast and sobbed aloud.
"Why, what ails my little girl?" he exclaimed. "Who's been teasing my
pet? Where are mamma and the girls?"
With a fresh rain of tears, Irene sobbed out:
"All g--gone to the b--ball, and would not let--let--me g--go, after
you'd told them all I might, papa."
The old man's genial face clouded over instantly with some intangible
annoyance.
"Why wouldn't they let you go?" he inquired.
"Bertha said if I went, _she_ wouldn't," replied Irene, hushing her
sobs, and answering in a high-pitched, indignant young voice; "she said
children had no business at a ball! The idea of calling _me_ a child! I
was _sixteen_, yesterday! Oh, papa, have you brought me a birthday
present from the city?" she inquired, eagerly, forgetting for a moment
her grievance.
"Yes, dear. And so Bertha wouldn't let you go to the ball?" he said,
taking a seat, and drawing her down upon his knee.
"It was mamma, too. _She_ took Bertha's part, and said I shouldn't come
out until the girls were married. Two Miss Brookes were quite enough in
the market at one time she said. As if I wanted to marry any of their
ridiculous beauxs, with their lisps, and their eye-glasses, and their
black coats. I despise them!" cried Irene, indignantly.
"That's because, as Bertha said, you're nothing but a child," laughed
Mr. Brooke. "When you grow older you'll quite adore these black-coated
dandies, I dare say;" then he added, in a graver tone: "Did Elaine
forbid your going, too?"
"No, she didn't say one word for, or against it. She only pursed up her
lips and looked out of the window. I never saw such a coward as Elaine,"
pursued the girl, angrily. "Bertha and mamma have everything their own
way, and ride rough-shod over Elaine, and she daren't say | 2,220.244798 |
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Libraries)
ESSAYS: SCIENTIFIC, POLITICAL, & SPECULATIVE.
BY
HERBERT SPENCER.
LIBRARY EDITION,
(OTHERWISE FIFTH THOUSAND,)
_Containing Seven Essays not before Republished,
and various other additions_.
VOL. III.
WILLIAMS AND NORGATE,
14, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON;
AND 20, SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH.
1891.
LONDON:
G. NORMAN AND SON, PRINTERS, HART STREET,
COVENT GARDEN.
CONTENTS OF VOL. III.
PAGE
MANNERS AND FASHION 1
RAILWAY MORALS AND RAILWAY POLICY 52
THE MORALS OF TRADE 113
PRISON-ETHICS 152
THE ETHICS OF KANT 192
ABSOLUTE POLITICAL ETHICS 217
OVER-LEGISLATION 229
REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT—WHAT IS IT GOOD FOR? 283
STATE-TAMPERINGS WITH MONEY AND BANKS 326
PARLIAMENTARY REFORM: THE DANGERS AND THE SAFEGUARDS 358
“THE COLLECTIVE WISDOM” 387
POLITICAL FETICHISM 393
SPECIALIZED ADMINISTRATION 401
FROM FREEDOM TO BONDAGE 445
THE AMERICANS 471
THE INDEX.
{1}
MANNERS AND FASHION.
[_First published in_ The Westminster Review _for April 1854_.]
Whoever has studied the physiognomy of political meetings, cannot
fail to have remarked a connexion between democratic opinions and
peculiarities of costume. At a Chartist demonstration, a lecture
on Socialism, or a _soirée_ of the Friends of Italy, there will be
seen many among the audience, and a still larger ratio among the
speakers, who get themselves up in a style more or less unusual.
One gentleman on the platform divides his hair down the centre,
instead of on one side; another brushes it back off the forehead, in
the fashion known as “bringing out the intellect;” a third has so
long forsworn the scissors, that his locks sweep his shoulders. A
sprinkling of moustaches may be observed; here and there an imperial;
and occasionally some courageous breaker of conventions exhibits a
full-grown beard.[1] This nonconformity in hair is countenanced by
various nonconformities in dress, shown by others of the assemblage.
Bare necks, shirt-collars _à la_ Byron, waistcoats cut Quaker fashion,
wonderfully shaggy great coats, numerous oddities in form and
colour, destroy the monotony usual in crowds. Even those exhibiting
no conspicuous peculiarity, frequently indicate by something in the
pattern of their clothes, that they pay small regard to what their {2}
tailors tell them about the prevailing taste. And when the gathering
breaks up, the varieties of head gear displayed—the number of caps,
and the abundance of felt hats—suffice to prove that were the world at
large like-minded, the black cylinders which tyrannize over us would
soon be deposed.
[1] This was written before moustaches and beards had become general.
This relationship between political discontent and disregard of
customs exists on the Continent also. Red republicanism is everywhere
distinguished by its hirsuteness. The authorities of Prussia, Austria,
and Italy, alike recognize certain forms of hat as indicative of
disaffection, and fulminate against them accordingly. In some places
the wearer of a blouse runs a risk of being classed among the
_suspects_; and in others, he who would avoid the bureau of police,
must beware how he goes out in any but the ordinary colours. Thus,
democracy abroad, as at home, tends towards personal singularity.
Nor is this association of characteristics peculiar to modern times,
or to reformers of the State. It has always existed; and it has been
manifested as much in religious agitations as in political ones. The
Puritans, disapproving of the long curls of the Cavaliers, as of
their principles, cut their own hair short, and so gained the name of
“Roundheads.” The marked religious nonconformity of the Quakers was
accompanied by an equally-marked nonconformity of manners—in attire,
in speech, in salutation. The early Moravians not only believed
differently, but at the same time dressed differently, and lived
differently, from their fellow Christians. That the association between
political independence and independence of personal conduct, is not
a phenomenon of to-day only, we may see alike in the appearance of
Franklin at the French court in plain clothes, and in the white hats
worn by the last generation of radicals. Originality of nature is sure
to show itself in more ways than one. The mention of George Fox’s suit
of leather, or Pestalozzi’s school name, “Harry Oddity,” will at
once suggest the {3} remembrance that men who have in great things
diverged from the beaten track, have frequently done so in small things
likewise. Minor illustrations may be gathered in almost every circle.
We believe that whoever will number up his reforming and rationalist
acquaintances, will find among them more than the usual proportion of
those who in dress or behaviour exhibit some degree of what the world
calls eccentricity.
If it be a fact that men of revolutionary aims in politics or religion,
are commonly revolutionists in custom also, it is not less a fact that
those whose office it is to uphold established arrangements in State
and Church, are also those who most adhere to the social forms and
observances bequeathed to us by past generations. Practices elsewhere
extinct still linger about the head quarters of government. The monarch
still gives assent to Acts of Parliament in the old French of the
Normans; and Norman French terms are still used in law. Wigs, such as
those we see depicted in old portraits, may yet be found on the heads
of judges and barristers. The Beefeaters at the Tower wear the costume
of Henry VIIth’s body-guard. The University dress of the present year
varies but little from that worn soon after the Reformation. The
claret- coat, knee-breeches, lace shirt-frills, white silk
stockings, and buckled shoes, which once formed the usual attire of a
gentleman, still survive as the court-dress. And it need scarcely be
said that at _levées_ and drawing-rooms, the ceremonies are prescribed
with an exactness, and enforced with a rigour, not elsewhere to be
found.
Can we consider these two series of coincidences as accidental and
unmeaning? Must we not rather conclude that some necessary relationship
obtains between them? Are there not such things as a constitutional
conservatism, and a constitutional tendency to change? Is there not a
class which clings to the old in all things; and another class so in
love with progress as often to mistake novelty for {4} improvement? Do
we not find some men ready to bow to established authority of whatever
kind; while others demand of every such authority its reason, and
reject it if it fails to justify itself? And must not the minds thus
contrasted tend to become respectively conformist and nonconformist,
not only in politics and religion, but in other things? Submission,
whether to a government, to the dogmas of ecclesiastics, or to that
code of behaviour which society at large has set up, is essentially
of the same nature; and the sentiment which induces resistance to the
despotism of rulers, civil or spiritual, likewise induces resistance
to the despotism of the world’s usages. All enactments, alike of the
legislature, the consistory, and the saloon—all regulations, formal or
virtual, have a common character: they are all limitations of men’s
freedom. “Do this—Refrain from that,” are the blank forms into which
they may severally be written; and throughout the understanding is
that obedience will bring approbation here and paradise hereafter;
while disobedience will entail imprisonment, or sending to Coventry,
or eternal torments, as the case may be. And if restraints, however
named, and through whatever apparatus of means exercised, are one in
their action upon men, it must happen that those who are patient under
one kind of restraint, are likely to be patient under another; and
conversely, that those impatient of restraint in general, will, on the
average, tend to show their impatience in all directions.
That Law, Religion, and Manners are thus related, and that they have
in certain contrasted characteristics of men a common support and a
common danger, will, however, be most clearly seen on discovering
that they have a common origin. Little as from present appearances we
should suppose it, we shall yet find that at first, the control of
religion, the control of laws, and the control of manners, were all
one control. Strange as it now seems, we believe it to be demonstrable
that the rules of etiquette, the provisions of the statute-book, and
the commands of the {5} decalogue, have grown from the same root. If
we go far enough back into the ages of primeval Fetishism, it becomes
manifest that originally Deity, Chief, and Master of the Ceremonies
were identical. To make good these positions, and to show their bearing
on what is to follow, it will be necessary here to traverse ground that
is in part somewhat beaten, and at first sight irrelevant to our topic.
We will pass over it as quickly as consists with the exigencies of the
argument.
* * * * *
That the earliest social aggregations were ruled solely by the will
of the strong man, few dispute.[2] That from the strong man proceeded
not only Monarchy, but the conception of a God, few admit: much as
Carlyle and others have said in evidence of it. If, however, those who
are unable to believe this, will lay aside the ideas of God and man
in which they have been educated, and study the aboriginal ideas of
them, they will at least see some probability in the hypothesis. Let
them remember that before experience had yet taught men to distinguish
between the possible and the impossible; and while they were ready on
the slightest suggestion to ascribe unknown powers to any object and
make a fetish of it; their conceptions of humanity and its capacities
were necessarily vague, and without specific limits. The man who by
unusual strength, or cunning, achieved something that others had failed
to achieve, or something which they did not understand, was considered
by them as differing from themselves; and, as we see in the belief of
some Polynesians that only their chiefs have souls, or in that of the
ancient Peruvians that their nobles were divine by birth, the ascribed
difference was apt to be not one of degree only, but one of kind. Let
them remember next, how gross were the notions of God, or {6} rather
of gods, prevalent during the same era and afterwards—how concretely
gods were conceived as men of specific aspects dressed in specific
ways—how their names were literally “the strong,” “the destroyer,”
“the powerful one,”—how, according to the Scandinavian mythology, the
“sacred duty of blood-revenge” was acted on by the gods themselves,—and
how they were not only human in their vindictiveness, their cruelty,
and their quarrels with each other, but were supposed to have amours
on earth, and to consume the viands placed on their altars. Add to
which, that in various mythologies, Greek, Scandinavian, and others,
the oldest beings are giants; that according to a traditional genealogy
the gods, demi-gods, and in some cases men, are descended from these
after the human fashion; and that while in the East we hear of sons
of God who saw the daughters of men that they were fair, the Teutonic
myths tell of unions between the sons of men and the daughters of the
gods. Let them remember, too, that at first the idea of death differed
widely from that which we have; that there are still tribes who, on
the decease of one of their number, attempt to make the corpse stand,
and put food into its mouth; that the Peruvians had feasts at which
the mummies of their dead Incas presided, when, as Prescott says, they
paid attention “to these insensible remains as if they were instinct
with life;” that among the Fijians it is believed that every enemy has
to be killed twice; that the Eastern Pagans give extension and figure
to the soul, and attribute to it all the same members, all the same
substances, both solid and liquid, of which our bodies are composed;
and that it is the custom among most barbarous races to bury food,
weapons, and trinkets along with the dead body, under the manifest
belief that it will presently need them. Lastly, let them remember
that the other world, as originally conceived, is simply some distant
part of this world—some Elysian fields, some happy hunting-ground,
accessible even to the living, and to which, {7} after death, men
travel in anticipation of a life analogous in general character to that
which they led before. Then, co-ordinating these general facts—the
ascription of unknown powers to chiefs and medicine men; the belief
in deities having human forms, passions, and behaviour; the imperfect
comprehension of death as distinguished from life; and the proximity
of the future abode to the present, both in position and character—let
them reflect whether they do not almost unavoidably suggest the
conclusion that the aboriginal god is the dead chief: the chief not
dead in our sense, but gone away, carrying with him food and weapons to
some rumoured region of plenty, some promised land, whither he had long
intended to lead his followers, and whence he will presently return
to fetch them. This hypothesis once entertained, is seen to harmonize
with all primitive ideas and practices. The sons of the deified chief
reigning after him, it necessarily happens that all early kings are
held descendants of the gods; and the fact that alike in Assyria,
Egypt, among the Jews, Phœnicians, and ancient Britons, kings’ names
were formed out of the names of the gods, is fully explained. The
genesis of Polytheism out of Fetishism, by the successive migrations of
the race of god-kings to the other world—a genesis illustrated in the
Greek mythology, alike by the precise genealogy of the deities, and by
the specifically-asserted apotheosis of the later ones—tends further
to bear it out. It explains the fact that in the old creeds, as in the
still extant creed of the Otaheitans, every family has its guardian
spirit, who is supposed to be one of their departed relatives; and that
they sacrifice to these as minor gods—a practice still pursued by the
Chinese and even by the Russians. It is perfectly congruous with the
Grecian myths concerning the wars of the Gods with the Titans and their
final usurpation; and it similarly agrees with the fact that among the
Teutonic gods proper was one Freir who came among them by adoption,
“but was born {8} among the _Vanes_, a somewhat mysterious _other_
dynasty of gods, who had been conquered and superseded by the stronger
and more warlike Odin dynasty.” It harmonizes, too, with the belief
that there are different gods to different territories and nations,
as there were different chiefs; that these gods contend for supremacy
as chiefs do; and it gives meaning to the boast of neighbouring
tribes—“Our god is greater than your god.” It is confirmed by the
notion universally current in early times, that the gods come from this
other abode, in which they commonly live, and appear among men—speak to
them, help them, punish them. And remembering this, it becomes manifest
that the prayers put up by primitive peoples to their gods for aid in
battle, are meant literally—that their gods are expected to come back
from the other kingdom they are reigning over, and once more fight the
old enemies they had before warred against so implacably; and it needs
but to name the Iliad, to remind every one how thoroughly they believed
the expectation fulfilled.[3]
[2] The few who disputed it would be right however. There are stages
preceding that in which chiefly power becomes established; and in many
cases it never does become established.
[3] In this paragraph, which I have purposely left standing word for
word as it did when republished with other essays in Dec. 1857, will be
seen the outline of the ghost-theory. Though there are references to
fetishism as a primitive form of belief, and though at that time I had
passively accepted the current theory (though never with satisfaction,
for the origin of fetishism as then conceived seemed incomprehensible)
yet the belief that inanimate objects may possess supernatural powers
(which is what was then understood as fetishism) is not dwelt upon as
a primitive belief. The one thing which is dwelt upon is the belief in
the double of the dead man as continuing to exist, and as becoming an
object of propitiation and eventually of worship. There are clearly
marked out the rudiments which, when supplied with the mass of facts
collected in the _Descriptive Sociology_ developed into the doctrine
elaborated in Part I. of _The Principles of Sociology_.
All government, then, being originally that of the strong man who has
become a fetish by some manifestation of superiority, there arises,
at his death—his supposed departure on a long-projected expedition,
in which he is accompanied by the slaves and concubines sacrificed
at his tomb—there arises, then, the incipient division of religious
{9} from political control, of spiritual rule from civil. His son
becomes deputed chief during his absence; his authority is cited
as that by which his son acts; his vengeance is invoked on all who
disobey his son; and his commands, as previously known or as asserted
by his son, become the germ of a moral code: a fact we shall the more
clearly perceive if we remember, that early moral codes inculcate
mainly the virtues of the warrior, and the duty of exterminating some
neighbouring tribe whose existence is an offence to the deity. From
this point onwards, these two kinds of authority, at first complicated
together as those of principal and agent, become slowly more and more
distinct. As experience accumulates, and ideas of causation grow more
precise, kings lose their supernatural attributes; and, instead of
God-king, become God-descended king, God-appointed king, the Lord’s
anointed, the vicegerent of Heaven, ruler reigning by Divine right.
The old theory, however, long clings to men in feeling, after it has
disappeared in name; and “such divinity doth hedge a king,” that even
now, many, on first seeing one, feel a secret surprise at finding him
an ordinary sample of humanity. The sacredness attaching to royalty
attaches afterwards to its appended institutions—to legislatures,
to laws. Legal and illegal are synonymous with right and wrong; the
authority of Parliament is held unlimited; and a lingering faith
in governmental power continually generates unfounded hopes from
its enactments. Political scepticism, however, having destroyed the
divine _prestige_ of royalty, goes on ever increasing, and promises
ultimately to reduce the State to a purely secular institution, whose
regulations are limited in their sphere, and have no other authority
than the general will. Meanwhile, the religious control has been little
by little separating itself from the civil, both in its essence and
in its forms. While from the God-king of the barbarian have arisen
in one direction, secular rulers who, age by age, have been losing
{10} the sacred attributes men ascribed to them; there has arisen in
another direction, the conception of a deity, who, at first human in
all things, has been gradually losing human materiality, human form,
human passions, human modes of action: until now, anthropomorphism
has become a reproach. Along with this wide divergence in men’s ideas
of the divine and civil ruler has been taking place a corresponding
divergence in the codes of conduct respectively proceeding from them.
While the king was a deputy-god—a governor such as the Jews looked
for in the Messiah—a governor considered, as the Czar still is, “our
God upon earth,”—it, of course, followed that his commands were the
supreme rules. But as men ceased to believe in his supernatural origin
and nature, his commands ceased to be the highest; and there arose a
distinction between the regulations made by him, and the regulations
handed down from the old god-kings, who were rendered ever more sacred
by time and the accumulation of myths. Hence came respectively, Law
and Morality: the one growing ever more concrete, the other more
abstract; the authority of the one ever on the decrease, that of
the other ever on the increase; originally the same, but now placed
daily in more marked antagonism. Simultaneously there has been going
on a separation of the institutions administering these two codes of
conduct. While they were yet one, of course Church and State were
one: the king was arch-priest, not nominally, but really—alike the
giver of new commands and the chief interpreter of the old commands;
and the deputy-priests coming out of his family were thus simply
expounders of the dictates of their ancestry: at first as recollected,
and afterwards as ascertained by professed interviews with them. This
union between sacred and secular—which still existed practically
during the middle ages, when the | 2,220.485337 |
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_WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
JULES SANDEAU. LA ROCHE AUX MOUETTES (Extracts). [_Nutt’s Short
French Readers, 6d._]
THÉOPHILE GAUTIER. VOYAGE EN ITALIE. [_Cambridge University
Press, 3s._]
ÉMILE SOUVESTRE. LE PHILOSOPHE SOUS LES TOITS (Extracts).
[_Blackie’s Little French Classics, 4d._]
PIERRE CŒUR. L’ÂME DE BEETHOVEN. [_Siepmann’s French Series.
Macmillan, 2s._]
FRENCH IDIOMS AND PROVERBS
“_Omne epigramma sit instar apis; sit aculeus illi,
Sint sua mella, sit et corporis exigui._”
MARTIAL.
[Thus Englished by Archbishop Trench:
“_Three things must epigrams, like bees, have all;
Its sting, its honey, and its body small._”]
[And thus by my friend, Mr. F. Storr:
“_An epigram’s a bee: ’tis small, has wings
Of wit, a heavy bag of humour, and it stings._”]
“_Celebre dictum, scita quapiam novitate insigne._”
ERASMUS.
“_The genius, wit, and spirit of a nation are discovered in its
proverbs._”--BACON.
“_The people’s voice the voice of God we call;
And what are proverbs but the people’s voice?_”
JAMES HOWELL.
“_What oft was thought, but ne’er so well expressed._”
POPE, _Essay on Criticism_.
“_The wit of one man, the wisdom of many._”--Lord JOHN RUSSELL
(_Quarterly Review_, Sept. 1850).
FRENCH IDIOMS AND PROVERBS
A COMPANION TO DESHUMBERT’S
“DICTIONARY OF DIFFICULTIES”
BY
DE V. PAYEN-PAYNE
PRINCIPAL OF KENSINGTON COACHING COLLEGE
ASSISTANT EXAMINER TO THE UNIVERSITY OF LONDON
_FOURTH REVISED AND ENLARGED EDITION_
[Fifth Thousand]
LONDON
DAVID NUTT, 57-59 LONG ACRE
1905
“_Tant ayme on chien qu’on le nourrist,
Tant court chanson qu’elle est aprise,
Tant garde on fruit qu’il se pourrist,
Tant bat on place qu’elle est prise.
Tant tarde on que faut entreprise,
Tant se haste on que mal advient,
Tant embrasse on que chet la prise,
Tant crie l’on Noel qu’il vient._”
VILLON, _Ballade des Proverbes_.
PREFACE
In this edition I have endeavoured to keep down additions as much
as possible, so as not to overload the book; but I have not been
sparing in adding cross-references (especially in the Index) and
quotations from standard authors. These quotations seldom give
the first occasion on which a proverb has been used, as in most
cases it is impossible to find it.
I have placed an asterisk before all recognised proverbs; these
will serve as a first course for those students who do not wish
to read through the whole book at once. In a few cases I have
added explanations of English proverbs; during the eleven years
I have been using the book I have frequently found that pupils
were, for instance, as ignorant of “to bell the cat” as they were
of “attacher le grelot.”
I must add a warning to students who use the book when
translating into French. They must not use expressions marked
“familiar” or “popular” except when writing in a familiar or
low-class style. I have included these forms, because they are
often heard in conversation, but they are seldom met with in
serious French literature. A few blank pages have been added at
the end for additions. Accents have been placed on capitals to
aid the student; they are usually omitted in French printing.
In conclusion, I have to thank Mr. W. G. Lipscomb, M.A.,
Headmaster of Bolton Grammar School, Mr. E. Latham, and
especially M. Georges Jamin of the École Lavoisier, Paris, for
valuable suggestions; while M. Marius Deshumbert, and Professor
Walter Rippmann, in reading through the proof sheets, have made
many corrections and additions of the greatest value, for which I
owe them my sincere gratitude.
DE V. PAYEN-PAYNE.
AUTHORITIES CONSULTED
BELCHER, H., and DUPUIS, A., “Manuel aux examens.” London, 1885.
BELCOUR, G., “English Proverbs.” London, 1888.
BOHN, H. G., “Handbook of Proverbs.” London, 1855.
CATS, JACOB, and FAIRLIE, R., “Moral Emblems.” London, 1860.
DUPLESSIS, M. GRATET, “La fleur des Proverbes français.” Paris,
1851.
FURETIÈRE, A., “Dictionnaire universel.” La Haye, 1727.
GÉNIN, F., “Récréations philologiques.” Paris, 1856.
HOWELL, JAMES, “Lexicon Tetraglotton.” London, 1660.
KARCHER, T., “Questionnaire français.” Seventh Edition. London,
1886.
LACURNE DE STE. PALAYE, “Dictionnaire historique de l’ancien
langage françois.” Paris, 1875-82.
LARCHEY, LORÉDAN, “Nos vieux Proverbes.” Paris, 1886.
LAROUSSE, P., “Grand Dictionnaire universel du xix^e siècle.”
1865-76.
LE ROUX DE LINCY, A. J., “Livre des Proverbes français.” 2^e
édition. Paris, 1859.
LITTRÉ, E., “Dictionnaire de la langue française.” Paris,
1863-72.
LOUBENS, D., “Proverbes de la langue française.” Paris, 1889.
MARTIN, ÉMAN, “Le Courrier de Vaugelas.” Paris, 1868.
QUITARD, P. M., “Dictionnaire étymologique des Proverbes.” Paris,
1842.
QUITARD, P. M., “Études sur les Proverbes français.” Paris, 1860.
RIGAUD, LUCIEN, “Argot moderne.” Paris, 1881.
TARVER, J. C., “Phraseological Dictionary.” London, 1854.
TRENCH, R. C., “Proverbs and their Lessons.” Sixth Edition.
London, 1869.
_Quarterly Review._ July 1868.
_Notes and Queries._ _Passim._
FRENCH IDIOMS AND PROVERBS
_Expressions to which an Asterisk is prefixed are Proverbs._
A.
A
_Il ne sait ni A ni B_ = He does not know B from a bull’s foot;
He cannot read; He is a perfect ignoramus.
_Être marqué à l’A_ = To stand high in the estimation of others.
[This expression is supposed to have originated in the custom of
stamping French coin with different letters of the alphabet. The
mark of the Paris Mint was an “A,” and its coins were supposed
to be of a better quality than those stamped at provincial
towns. But as this custom only began in 1418 by command of the
Dauphin, son of Charles VI., and as the saying was known long
previous, it is more probable that its origin is to be sought in
the pre-eminence that A has always held in all Aryan languages,
and that the French have borrowed it from the Romans. Compare
MARTIAL, ii. 57, and our A i, at Lloyd’s.]
Abandon
_Tout est à l’abandon_ = Everything is at sixes and sevens, in
utter neglect, in confusion.
[Also: _Tout va à la dérive._]
Abattre
*_Petite pluie abat grand vent_ = A little rain lays much dust;
Often quite a trifle calms a torrent of wrath.
[Compare | 2,271.281649 |
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Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images available at The Internet Archive)
[Every attempt has been made to replicate the original as printed.
Some typographical errors have been corrected; a list follows the text.
(etext transcriber note.)]
_The Story of Prague_
_The Mediaeval Town Series_
=VERONA.=(A)
By ALETHEA WIEL.
=CHARTRES.=(B)
By CECIL HEADLAM.
=CAIRO.=(B)
By STANLEY LANE-POOLE.
=BRUGES.=(B)
By ERNEST GILLIAT-SMITH.
=ROME.=(B) [_2nd Edition._
By NORWOOD YOUNG.
=FLORENCE.=(B) [_3rd Edition._
By EDMUND G. GARDNER.
=ASSISI.=(A) [_2nd Edition._
By LINA DUFF GORDON.
=CONSTANTINOPLE.=(A)
By WILLIAM H. HUTTON.
=MOSCOW.=(A)
By WIRT GERRARE.
=ROUEN.=(B) [_2nd Edition._
By THEODORE A. COOK.
=NUREMBERG.=(A) [_3rd Edition._
By CECIL HEADLAM.
=PERUGIA.=(A) [_4th Edition._
By MARGARET SYMONDS and LINA DUFF GORDON.
=TOLEDO.=(A)
By HANNAH LYNCH.
_The volumes marked_ (A) _are_ 3_s._ 6_d._ _net in cloth_, 4_s._
6_d._ _net in leather_; _those marked_ (B) _are_ 4_s._ 6_d._ _net
in cloth_, 5_s._ 6_d._ _net in leather_.
[Illustration: The Pulverthurm Prague]
_The Story of_ =PRAGUE=
_by Count Luetzow_
_Illustrated by Nelly Erichsen_
[Illustration: colophon]
_London: J. M. Dent & Co._
_Aldine House, 29 and 30 Bedford Street_
_Covent Garden, W.C._
[Illustration]
1902
_All rights reserved_
To
PROFESSOR MORFILL, M.A.
_Corresponding Member of the Royal Scientific Society
of Bohemia, who has so largely contributed
to making Bohemia known to England_
CONTENTS
PAGE
_Introduction_ xv
CHAPTER I
_Prague at the Earliest Period_ 1
CHAPTER II
_From the Reign of Charles IV. to the Executions
at Prague in 1621_ 23
CHAPTER III
_Prague in Modern Times_ 128
CHAPTER IV
_Palaces_ 140
CHAPTER V
_Churches and Monasteries_ 149
CHAPTER VI
_The Bohemian Museum_ 164
CHAPTER VII
_Walks in Prague_ 167
CHAPTER VIII
_Walks and Excursions near Prague_ 197
_Note_ 201
_Appendix_ 203
_Princes of Bohemia_ 204
_Kings of Bohemia_ 205
_Index_ 207
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
_The Pulverthurm_ (_photogravure_) _Frontispiece_
_Tomb of Ottokar I._ 6
_The Jewish Cemetery_ 9
_The Hradcany and Ottokar Towers_ 13
_Charles IV., from Triforium of St. Vitus_ 16
_The Gothic Projection, Carolinum_ 19
_The Bridge Tower of the Mala Strana_ 27
_Statue of St. John Nepomuk on the Bridge_ 30
_Medals of Hus_ 33
_Medals of Hus_ 39
_The Bridge Tower of the Old Town_ 45
_The Hradcany_ 53
_View of Prague and Hradcany Castle_ 61
_The Town Hall and Market-Place_ 71
_South Porch of Tyn Church_ 75
_Clock Tower in Town Hall of Stare Mesto_ 80
_Chapel of Town Hall_ 83
_Wenceslas Chapel, St. Vitus's Cathedral_ 91
_The East Gate of the Hradcany_ 97
_Rudolph II._ 101
_Tombstone of Tycho Brahe in Tyn Church_ 104
_The Royal Officials are Thrown from the
Windows on May 23, 1618_ 111
_Battle of the White Mountain, November 8,
1620_ 115
_The Executions on the Market-Place of the
Old Town of Prague on the 21st of
June 1621_ 121
_The Dungeon in the Town Hall_ 125
_Bethlehem Chapel_ 127
_The Old Synagogue_ 129
_Secret Seal of the Mala Strana_ 133
_The Oldest Great Seal of the Old Town_ 139
_Gate of the Clam-Gallas Palace_ 141
_The Hall of Vladislav in the Hradcany
Castle_ 145
_The Most Ancient Shield of the Old Town_ 148
_View of Strahov_ 150
_St. Vitus from the 'Stag's Ditch'_ 153
_The Tyn Church_ 157
_The Library, Strahov_ 161
_Most Ancient Arms of the Mala Strana_ 163
_The Powder Tower_ 169
_Door of Old Synagogue_ 171
_Jewish Town Hall and Old Synagogue_ 175
_Chapel of St. Martin_ 182
_Karlov_ 186
_From the Bridge Looking Towards the Old
Town_ 188
_View of the Bridge from the Mills of the
Old Town_ 191
_The 'Star' Hunting Lodge_ 199
_The Oldest Great Seal of the Mala Strana,
Thirteenth Century_ 200
_View of Prague in 1606, after Sadeler's famous
Engraving, in Three Sections_ _facing_ 206
_Map of Prague_ " 212
INTRODUCTION
Few cities in the world have a more striking and feverish historical
record than Prague, the ancient capital of Bohemia and of the lands of
the Bohemian crown. It is a very ancient saying at Prague that when
throwing a stone through a window you throw with it a morsel of history.
The story of Prague is to a great extent the history of Bohemia, and all
Bohemians have always shown a devoted affection for the
'hundred-towered, golden Prague,' as they fondly call it. As Mr. Arthur
Symons has well said, Prague is to a Bohemian'still the epitome of the
history of his country; he sees it, as a man sees the woman he loves,
with her first beauty, and he loves it as a man loves a woman, more for
what she has suffered.' Foreigners, however, have not been backward in
admiring the beauties of Prague. The words of Humboldt, who declared
that Prague was the most beautiful inland town of Europe, have often
been quoted, and it is certain that a traveller who looks at the town
from the bridge, or the Strahov Monastery or the Belvedere, will share
this opinion.
Yet Prague is, I think, very little known to Englishmen, and I received
with great pleasure Mr. Dent's suggestion that I should write a short
sketch of the history of the capital of my country. It has, indeed, to
me been a labour of love. The geographical situation of Prague is to
some extent a clue to its historical importance. Bohemia, the Slavic
land that lies furthest west, has always been the battlefield of the
Slavic and Teutonic races, and its capital, Prague, has for more than a
thousand years been an outlying bastion of the Slav people, which,
sometimes captured, has always been recovered. Within the time of men
now living Prague had the appearance of a German city, while it has now
a thoroughly Slav character. The town has therefore an intense interest
for the student of history, and, indeed, of politics. For more than two
centuries a religious conflict, interwoven with the racial struggle in a
manner that cannot be defined in few words, attracted the attention of
Europe to Bohemia, and particularly to Prague; for the battles of the
Zizkov and the Vysehrad were fought within the precincts of the present
city. But it is not only in the annals of war that Prague plays a
pre-eminent part. The foundation of the University for a time made
Prague one of the centres of European thought. Thanks to the enthusiasm
and eloquence of Hus, the endeavour to reform the Church, which had | 2,271.379617 |
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THE GNOSTIC CRUCIFIXION
WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR
_Net._
THRICE GREATEST HERMES (3 vols.) 30/-
FRAGMENTS OF A FAITH FORGOTTEN 10/6
DID JESUS LIVE 100 B.C.? 9/-
THE WORLD-MYSTERY 5/-
THE GOSPEL AND THE GOSPELS 4/6
APOLLONIUS OF TYANA 3/6
THE UPANISHADS (2 vols.) 3/-
PLOTINUS 1/-
ECHOES FROM THE GNOSIS
BY G. R. S. MEAD
VOL. VII.
THE GNOSTIC CRUCIFIXION
THE THEOSOPHICAL PUBLISHING SOCIETY
LONDON AND BENARES
1907
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
ECHOES FROM THE GNOSIS.
Under this general title is now being published a series of small volumes,
drawn from, or based upon, the mystic, theosophic and gnostic writings of
the ancients, so as to make more easily audible for the ever-widening
circle of those who love such things, some echoes of the mystic
experiences and initiatory lore of their spiritual ancestry. There are
many who love the life of the spirit, and who long for the light of
gnostic illumination, but who are not sufficiently equipped to study the
writings of the ancients at first hand, or to follow unaided the labours
of scholars. These little volumes are therefore intended to serve as
introduction to the study of the more difficult literature of the subject;
and it is hoped that at the same time they may become for some, who have,
as yet, not even heard of the Gnosis, stepping-stones to higher things.
G. R. S. M.
THE GNOSTIC CRUCIFIXION
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE 9
THE VISION OF THE CROSS 12
COMMENTS 20
POSTCRIPT 69
TEXTS
Bonnet (M.), _Acta Apostolorum Apocrypha_ (Leipzig, 1898).
James (M. R.), _Apocrypha Anecdota, T. & S._, v. i. (Cambridge, 1897).
_F._ = _Fragments of a Faith Forgotten_, 2nd. ed. (London, 1906).
_H._ = _Thrice Greatest Hermes_ (London, 1906).
ECHOES FROM THE GNOSIS
VOL. I. THE GNOSIS OF THE MIND.
VOL. II. THE HYMNS OF HERMES.
VOL. III. THE VISION OF ARIDAEUS.
VOL. IV. THE HYMN OF JESUS.
VOL. V. THE MYSTERIES OF MITHRA.
VOL. VI. A MITHRIAC RITUAL.
VOL. VII. THE GNOSTIC CRUCIFIXION.
SOME PROPOSED SUBJECTS FOR FORTHCOMING VOLUMES
THE CHALDAEAN ORACLES.
THE HYMN OF THE PRODIGAL.
SOME ORPHIC FRAGMENTS.
THE GNOSTIC CRUCIFIXION.
PREFACE.
The Gnostic Mystery of the Crucifixion is most clearly set forth in the
new-found fragments of _The Acts of John_, and follows immediately on the
Sacred Dance and Ritual of Initiation which we endeavoured to elucidate in
Vol. IV. of these little books, in treating of _The Hymn of Jesus_.
The reader is, therefore, referred to the "Preamble" of that volume for a
short introduction concerning the nature of the Gnostic Acts in general
and of the Leucian _Acts of John_ in particular. I would, however, add a
point of interest bearing on the date which was forgotten, though I have
frequently remarked upon it when lecturing on the subject.
The strongest proof that we have in our fragment very early material is
found in the text itself, when it relates the following simple form of the
miracle of the loaves.
"Now if at any time He were invited by one of the Pharisees and went to
the bidding, we used to go with Him. And before each was set a single loaf
by the host; and of them He Himself also received one. Then He would give
thanks and divide His loaf among us; and from this little each had enough,
and our own loaves were saved whole, so that those who bade Him were
amazed."
If the marvellous narratives of the feeding of the five thousand had been
already in circulation, it is incredible that this simple story, which we
may so easily believe, should have been invented. Of what use, when the
minds of the hearers had been strung to the pitch of faith which had
already accepted the feeding of the five thousand as an actual physical
occurrence, would it have been to invent comparatively so small a wonder?
On the other hand, it is easy to believe that from similar simple stories
of the power of the Master, which were first of all circulated in the
inner circles, the popular narratives of the multitude-feeding miracles
could be developed. We, therefore, conclude, with every probability, that
we have here an indication of material of very early date.
Nevertheless when we come to the Mystery of the Crucifixion as set forth
in our fragment, we are not entitled to argue that the popular history was
developed from it in a similar fashion. The problem it raises is of
another order, and to it we will return when the reader has been put in
possession of the narrative, as translated from Bonnet's text. John is
supposed to be the narrator.
(The Arabic figures and the Roman figures in square brackets refer
respectively to Bonnet's and James' texts. I have added the side figures
for convenience of reference in the comments.)
THE VISION OF THE CROSS.
1. [97 (xii.)] And having danced these things with us, Beloved, the Lord
went out. And we, as though beside ourselves, or wakened out of sleep,
fled each our several ways.
2. I, however, though I saw the beginning of His passion could not stay to
the end, but fled unto the Mount of Olives weeping over that which had
befallen.
3. And when He was hung on the tree of the cross, at the sixth hour of the
day darkness came over the whole earth.
And my Lord stood in the midst of the Cave, and filled it with light, and
said:
4. "John, to the multitude below, in Jerusalem, I am being crucified, and
pierced with spears and reeds, and vinegar and gall is being given Me to
drink. To thee now I speak, and give ear to what I say. 'Twas I who put it
in thy heart to ascend this Mount, that thou mightest hear what disciple
should learn from Master, and man from God."
5. [98 (xiii.)] And having thus spoken, He showed me a Cross of Light set
up, and round the Cross a vast multitude, and therein one form and a
similar appearance, and in the Cross another multitude not having one
form.
6. And I beheld the Lord Himself above the Cross. He had, however, no
shape, but only as it were a voice--not, however, this voice to which we
are accustomed, but one of its own kind and beneficent and truly of God,
saying unto me:
7. "John, one there needs must be to hear those things, from Me; for I
long for one who will hear.
8. "This Cross of Light is called by Me for your sakes sometimes Word
(Logos), sometimes Mind, sometimes Jesus, sometimes Christ, sometimes
Door, sometimes Way, sometimes Bread, sometimes Seed, sometimes
Resurrection, sometimes Son, sometimes Father, sometimes Spirit, sometimes
Life, sometimes Truth, sometimes Faith, sometimes Grace.
9. "Now those things [it is called] as towards men; but as to what it is
in truth, itself in its own meaning to itself, and declared unto Us, [it
is] the defining (or delimitation) of all things, both the firm necessity
of things fixed from things unstable, and the 'harmony' of Wisdom.
10. "And as it is Wisdom in 'harmony,' there are those on the Right and
those on the Left--powers, authorities, principalities, and daemons,
energies, threats, powers of wrath, slanderings--and the Lower Root from
which hath come forth the things in genesis.
11 [99]. "This, then, is the Cross which by the Word (Logos) hath been the
means of 'cross-beaming' all things--at the same time separating off the
things that proceed from genesis and those below it [from those above],
and also compacting them all into one.
12. "But this is not the cross of wood which thou shalt see when thou
descendest hence; nor am I he that is upon the cross--[I] whom now thou
seest not, but only hearest a voice.
13. "I was held [to be] what I am not, not being what I was to many
others; nay, they will call Me something else, abject and not worthy of
Me. As, then, the Place of Rest is neither seen nor spoken of, much more
shall I, the Lord of it, be neither seen [nor spoken of].
14. [100 (xiv.)] "Now the multitude of one appearance round the Cross is
the Lower Nature. And as to those whom thou seest in the Cross, if they
have not also one form, [it is because] the whole Race (or every Limb) of
Him who descended hath not yet been gathered together.
15. "But when the Upper Nature, yea, the Race that is coming unto Me, in
obedience to My Voice, is taken up, then thou who now hearkenest to Me,
shalt become it, and it shall no longer be what it is now, but above them
as I am now.
16. "For so long as thou callest not thyself Mine, I am not what I am. But
if thou hearkenest unto Me, hearing, thou, too, shalt be as I [am], and I
shall be what I was, when thou [art] as I am with Myself; for from this
thou art.
17. "Pay no attention, then, to the many, and them that are without the
mystery think little of; for know that I am wholly with the Father and the
Father with Me.
18. [101 (xv.)] "Nothing, then, of the things which they will say of Me
have I suffered; nay that Passion as well which I showed unto thee and the
rest, by dancing [it], I will that it be called a mystery.
19. "What thou art, thou seest; this did I show unto thee. But what I am,
this I alone know, [and] none else.
20. "What, then, is Mine suffer Me to keep; but what is thine see thou
through Me. To see Me as I really am I said is not possible, but only what
thou art able to recognise, as being kin [to Me] (or of the same Race).
21. "Thou hearest that I suffered; yet I did not suffer: that I suffered
not; yet I did suffer: that I was pierced; yet was I not smitten: that I
was hanged; yet I was not hanged: that blood flowed from me; yet it did
not flow: and in a word the things they say about Me I had not, and the
things they do not say those I suffered. Now what they are I will riddle
for thee; for I know that thou wilt understand.
22. "Understand, therefore, in Me, the slaying of a Word (Logos), the
piercing of a Word, the blood of a Word, the wounding of a Word, the
hanging of a Word, the passion of a Word, the nailing (or putting
together) of a Word, the death of a Word.
23. "And thus I speak separating off the man. First, then, understand the
Word, then shalt thou understand the Lord, and in the third place [only]
the man and what he suffered."
24. [102 (xvi.)] And having said these things to me, and others which I
know not how to say as He Himself would have it, He was taken up, no one
of the multitude beholding Him.
25. And when I descended I laughed at them all, when they told Me what
they did concerning Him, firmly possessed in myself of this [truth] only,
that the Lord contrived all things symbolically, and according to [His]
dispensation for the conversion and salvation of man.
COMMENTS.
The translation is frequently a matter of difficulty, for the text has
been copied in a most careless and unintelligent fashion, so that the
ingenuity of the editors has often been taxed to the utmost and has not
infrequently completely broken down. It is of course quite natural that
orthodox scribes should blunder when transcribing Gnostic documents, owing
to their ignorance of the subject and their strangeness to the ideas; but
this particular copyist is at times quite barbarous, and as the subject is
deeply mystical and deals with the unexpected, the reconstruction of the
original reading is a matter of great difficulty. With a number of
passages I am still unsatisfied, though I hope they are somewhat nearer
the spirit of the original than other reconstructions which have been
attempted.
It is always a matter of difficulty for the rigidly objective mind to
understand the point of view of the Gnostic scripture-writers. One thing,
however, is certain: they lived in times when the rigid orthodoxy of the
canon was not yet established. They were in the closest touch with the
living tradition of scripture-writing, and they knew the manner of it.
The probability is that paragraphs 1-3 are from the pen of the redactor or
compiler of the _Acts_, and that the narrative, beginning with the words
"And my Lord stood in the midst of the Cave," is incorporated from prior
material--a mystic vision or apocalypse circulated in the inner circles.
The compiler knows the general Gospel-story, and seems prepared to admit
its historical basis; at the same time he knows well that the story
circulated among the people is but the outer veil of the mystery, and so
he hands on what we may well believe was but one of many visions of the
mystic crucifixion.
The gentle contempt of those who had entered into the mystery, for those
unknowing ones who would fain limit the crucifixion to one brief historic
event, is brought out strongly, and savours, though mildly, of the
bitterness of the struggle between the two great forces of the inner and
spiritualizing and the outer and materializing traditions.
1. The disciples flee after beholding the inner mystery of the Passion and
At-one-ment as set forth in the initiating drama of the Mystic Dance which
formed the subject of our fourth volume.
2. Yet even John the Beloved, in spite of this initiation, cannot yet bear
the thought that his Master did actually suffer historically as a
malefactor on the physical cross. In his distress he flees unto the Mount
of Olives, above Jerusalem.
But to the Gnostic the Mount of Olives was no physical hill, though it was
a mount in the physical, and Jerusalem no physical city, though a city in
the physical. The Mount, however it might be distinguished locally, was
the Height of Contemplation, and the bringing into activity of a certain
inner consciousness; even as Jerusalem here was the Jerusalem below, the
physical consciousness.
3. The sentence "when He was hung on the tree of the Cross" contains a
great puzzle. The word for "tree" in the original is _batos_; this may
mean the "bush" or "tree" of the cross. But the Cross for the Gnostics was
a living symbol. It was not only the cross of dead wood, or the dead trunk
of a tree lopped of its branches--a symbol of Osiris in death; it was also
the Tree of Life, and was equated with the "Fiery Bush" out of which the
Angel of God spake to Moses--that is the Tree of Fiery Life, in the
Paradise of man's inner nature, whence the Word of God expresses itself to
one who is worthy to hear. And this Tree of Life was also, as the Cross,
the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil; indeed, both are but one Tree, for
the fruit of the Tree of Life is the knowledge of good and evil, the cross
of the opposites.
But seeing that the word _batos_ in Greek had also another meaning, the
Gnostics, by their method of mystical word-play, based on the power of
sound, brought this further meaning into use for the expansion of the
idea. The difference of accentuation and of gender (though the reading of
the Septuagint is masculine and not feminine as is usual with _batos_ in
the sense of bush or tree) presented no difficulty to the word-alchemy of
these allegorists.
Hippolytus, in his _Refutation of all Heretics_, attempts to summarize a
system of the Christianized Gnosis which is assigned to the Docetae; and
Docetism is precisely the chief characteristic of our _Acts of John_, as
we have already pointed out in Vol. IV. In this unsympathetic summary
there is a passage which throws some light on our puzzle. It would, of
course, require a detailed analysis of our haeresiologist's "refutation" of
the Docetic system to make the passage to which we refer (_op. cit._,
viii., 9) fully comprehensible; but as this would be too lengthy an
undertaking for these short comments, we must content ourselves with a
bald statement.
The pure spiritual emanations or ideas or intelligences of the Light
descend into the lowest Darkness of matter. For the moulding of vehicles
or bodies for them it is necessary to call in the aid of the God of Fire,
the creative or rather formative Power, who is "Living Fire begotten of
Light."
Hippolytus summarizes, doubtless imperfectly, from the Docetic document
that lay before him, as follows:
"Moses refers to this God as the Fiery God who spake from the _Batos_,
that is to say, from the Dark Air; for _Batos_ is all the Air subjected to
Darkness."
That is, presumably, the material Air, Air of the Darkness, as compared
with the spiritual Air or Air of the Light. The Docetic writer, Hippolytus
says, explained the use of the term as follows:
"Moses called it _Batos_, because, in their passing from Above, Below, all
the Ideas of the Light [that is, the Light-sparks or spirits of men] used
the Air as their means of passage (_batos_)."
In other words _Batos_, as Air, was the link between Light and Darkness,
which Darkness was regarded as essentially a flowing or Watery chaos. The
Batos was the Way Down and the Way Up of souls.
We are not, however, to suppose that the origin of this idea was the text
of _Exodus_. By no means; the idea came first, indeed was fundamental with
the Gnosis; the mystic exegesis of the "burning bush" passage was an
exercise in ingenuity. For the Gnosis, the that which at once separated
and united the Light and the Darkness was the Cross. The Angel of God
speaking to Moses out of the Fiery Batos was for the Christian Gnostics
one of the most striking apocalypses of ancient Jewish scripture; and it
was primarily one of the chief functions of the Gnosis to throw light on
the under-meaning. This the Docetic exegete does in his own fashion, using
the reading of the Greek Targum or Translation of the Seventy, in this
wise: "_Batos?_ _Batos_ does not mean 'bush' really, but'medium of
transmission,'" It is by means of this that the Word of God comes unto
us--namely, by the mystery of the uniter-separator in one, which was
called by many names.
For instance, in setting forth the Sophia-mythus, or Wisdom-story, or
mystery of cosmogenesis, of the Valentinian school, Hippolytus (_op.
cit._, vi. 3), treats of the Cross as the final mystery of all. With
original documents before him, he writes:
"Now it is called Boundary, because it bounds off the Deficiency from the
Fullness [so as to make it] exterior to it; it is called Partaker because
it partakes of the Deficiency as well; and it is called Cross (or Stock)
because it hath been fixed immovably and unchangeably, so that nothing of
the Deficiency should be able to approach the eternities within the
Fullness."
Here it is useless to tie oneself to the physical symbol of a cross. The
Stauros (Cross) in its true self is a living idea, a reality or
root-principle. It is the principle of separation and limit, dividing
entity from non-entity, being from non-being, perfection from
imperfection, fullness or sufficiency from deficiency or
insufficiency--Light from Darkness. It is the that which causes all
opposites. At the same time it shares in all opposites, for it is the
immediate emanation of the Father Himself, and therefore unites while
separating. It is, therefore, the principle of participation or sharing
in, sharing in both the Fullness and the Deficiency. Finally, it is the
Stock or Pillar as that which "has stood, stands and will stand"--the
principle of immobility, as the energy of the Father in His aspect of the
supreme Individuality that changes not, because he is Lord of the
ever-changing.
That such a master-idea is difficult to grasp goes without saying; it was
confessedly the supreme mystery. From it the mind, the formal mind of man,
"falls back unable to grasp it"; for it is precisely this personal mind
that creates duality, and insinuates itself between cause and effect. The
spiritual Mind alone can embrace the opposites.
But to return to our text. "When He was hung on the _batos_ of the
Cross"--when He had reached the state of balance, was in the mystic
centre--then at the sixth hour, that is mid-day, when there was greatest
light, there was also greatest darkness.
And then when the Lord, the Higher Self of the man, was balanced and
justified, the man, the disciple, became conscious, in the cave of his
heart--that is to say, in his inmost substantial nature--of the Presence
of Light.
4. Thereon follow the illumination and the explanation of the familiar
drama of appearance taught to those "without the mystery."
"The multitude below in Jerusalem" is the lower nature of the man, his
unillumined mind. "Jerusalem Below" is set over against "Jerusalem Above,"
the City of God. Jerusalem Below is that nature in him that is still
unordered and unpurified; while Jerusalem Above is that ordered and
purified portion of his substance that can respond to the immediate
shining of the Light, which further orders it according to the Ordering of
Heaven.
And yet the drama below is real enough; there are ever crucifixion and
piercing and the drinking of vinegar and gall, before the triumphant
Christ is born. It is by such means that His Body is conformed; it is the
mystery of the transformation of what we call evil into good. The Body of
the Christ is perfected by the absorption of the impersonal evil of the
world, which He transmutes into blessing.
"'Twas I who put it in thy heart to ascend this Mount." I am thy Self, thy
true God; 'twas I energizing in thee who enabled thee to rise to the
height of contemplation, where thou canst "hear what disciple should learn
from Master and man from God." The man has now reached the stage of Hearer
in the Spiritual Mysteries.
5. There then follows the vision of the great Cross of Light, fixed firm,
and stretching from earth to heaven. Round its foot on earth is a vast
multitude of all the nations of the world; they resemble one another in
that they are configured according to the Darkness, their "Spark burns
low." On the Cross, or in it, for doubtless the seer saw within as well as
without, was another multitude of various grades of light, being formed
into some marvellous Image like unto the Divine, but not yet completed--as
it might be the | 2,271.881956 |
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+-------------------------------------------------+
|Transcriber's note: |
| |
|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. |
| |
|The Publisher updated some of the text of the |
|Book List by hand, indicating those which were |
|out of print. |
|The original text has been retained. |
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ECHOES FROM THE ORIENT
A BROAD OUTLINE OF THEOSOPHICAL DOCTRINES
BY
WILLIAM Q. JUDGE
[OCCULTUS]
SECOND POINT LOMA EDITION
THE THEOSOPHICAL PUBLISHING COMPANY
POINT LOMA, CALIFORNIA
1910
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1890,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.
BY WILLIAM Q. JUDGE.
[Illustr | 2,271.887574 |
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Transcriber’s Note
This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_.
Given the publication date (late 17th century), the capitalization,
spelling and punctuation of the original, is variable, There are a
number of instances where it is very likely a printer's error has been
made, These have been corrected, and are summarized in the transcriber’s
note at the end of the text.
There are several full page panelled illustrations, which were not
included in the pagination, and have been moved slightly in the text in
order to avoid falling within a paragraph. Each panel serves as
illustration of a numbered chapter.
Several concessions to modernity are made. The text employed the long
‘s’ (‘ſ’), which has been rendered here as a modern ‘s’. Likewise the
ligature of ‘ct’ is given as the two separate chararacters.
[Illustration]
THE
English Rogue:
Continued in the Life of
MERITON LATROON
AND OTHER
EXTRAVAGANTS:
Comprehending the most Eminent
CHEATS
OF
BOTH SEXES.
Read, _but do’nt_ Practice: _for the Author findes,
They which live_ Honest _have most quiet mindes_.
----------------------------------------------------------------
The _Third_ Part.
----------------------------------------------------------------
With the Illustration of Pictures to every
Chapter.
----------------------------------------------------------------
_LONDON_:
Printed by _Anne Johnson_ for _Fran. Kirkman_, and
are to be sold at his Shop in _Fan-Church
Street_ over against the Sign of the _Robin
Hood_ neer _Algate_. 1674.
[Illustration: decoration]
The Preface.
Gentlemen!
_In the first impression of this third part, a large and as I thought a
sufficient Apologie was made, for the Writing and publishing thereof.
Wherefore I shall not enlarge at this time, onely tell you that you have
here laid before you, a large Catalogue of all sorts of notorious
Rogueries; your own consciences may serve as a finger in the Margin,
pointing directly to the Guilt with which you are principally concern’d;
to deal plainly with you, had I lived in a less wicked Age than this is,
this Book had ne’re been extant; it was the vicious practices of these
corrupted times, that gave it matter and form, life and being: had the
evil inclinations of men extended no further, then to some wagish
excursions, I should have been silent; but since_ Villany _improves it
self daily, notwithstanding the many lamentable examples monthly
attending the commission thereof. I thought good to erect this Monument
of their shame and wickedness, which may serve instead of a continuall_
Sessions, _an ever-lasting_ Tyburn, _to fright these vile miscreants
from their enormous practices: I know not with what faces they can
perpetrate that again, which is now so notoriously laid open to the view
of the whole world; | 2,271.980056 |
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LUCKY PEHR
[A Drama in Five Acts]
By August Strindberg
Author Of "Easter," Etc.
Translated By Velma Swanston Howard
Authorized Edition
CHARACTERS
OLD MAN IN THE TOWER.
PEHR.
LISA.
FAIRY.
ELF.
RATS [NILLA AND NISSE].
BUTLER.
ASSESSOR.
PETITIONER.
FIRST FRIEND.
SECOND FRIEND.
A WOMAN.
PILLORY.
STATUE.
WAGONMAKER.
SHOEMAKER.
CHIROPODIST.
STREET-PAVER.
REL | 2,272.084669 |
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_UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE DIFFUSION OF USEFUL
KNOWLEDGE._
THE
GALLERY OF PORTRAITS:
WITH
MEMOIRS.
VOLUME VII.
LONDON:
CHARLES KNIGHT, 22, LUDGATE-STREET.
1837.
[PRICE ONE GUINEA, BOUND IN CLOTH.]
LONDON:
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS,
Duke-Street, Lambeth.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PORTRAITS AND BIOGRAPHIES
CONTAINED IN THIS VOLUME.
Page.
1. Gustavus Adolphus 1
2. Marc Antonio Raimondi 10
3. Coke 15
4. Gibbon 25
5. Scaliger 32
6. Penn 39
7. De Thou 49
8. Chatham 55
9. Mozart 66
10. Loyola 73
11. Brindley 81
12. Schiller 87
13. Bentham 97
14. Catherine II. 103
15. Defoe 112
16. Hume 121
17. De Witt 129
18. Hampden 137
19. Dr. Johnson 145
20. Jefferson 153
21. Wilberforce 162
22. Dr. Black 169
23. Bacon 177
24. Sir Walter Scott 185
[Illustration:
_Engraved by J. Posselwhite._
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.
_From a Print by Paul Pontius, after a Picture by Van Dyck._
Under the Superintendence of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.
_London, Published by Charles Knight & C^o. Ludgate Street._
]
[Illustration]
GUST. ADOLPHUS.
During the fourteenth, and the beginning of the fifteenth century,
Sweden, lying under vassalage to the crown of Denmark, suffered the
evils which commonly belong to that condition. Gustavus Vasa, after a
series of romantic adventures, established the independence of his
country, and was deservedly elected by the Swedish Diet, in 1523, to
wear its crown. The same kingdom to which he gave a place among free
states, his grandson, Gustavus Adolphus, raised from the obscurity of a
petty northern power, to rule in Germany, and to be the terror of the
Church of Rome.
The establishment of the Reformation was coeval with the independence of
Sweden; and a fundamental law forbade any future sovereign to alter the
national religion, or to admit Roman Catholics to offices of power and
trust. For infringing this principle, Sigismond, by election King of
Poland, the lineal successor of Gustavus V | 2,272.088324 |
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THAT GIRL MONTANA
BY
MARAH ELLIS RYAN
AUTHOR OF
TOLD IN THE HILLS, THE BONDWOMAN,
A FLOWER OF FRANCE, Etc.
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
Made in the United States of America
Copyright, 1901, by Rand. McNally & Company.
THAT GIRL MONTANA.
PROLOGUE.
"That girl the murderer of a man--of Lee Holly! That pretty little girl?
Bosh! I don't believe it."
"I did not say she killed him; I said she was suspected. And even though
she was cleared, the death of that renegade adds one more to the mysteries
of our new West. But I think the mere suspicion that she did it entitles
her to a medal, or an ovation of some sort."
The speakers were two men in complete hunting costume. That they were
strangers in the Northwest was evidenced by the very lively interest they
took in each bit of local color in landscape or native humanity. Of the
latter, there was a most picturesque variety. There were the Northern red
men in their bright blankets, and women, too, with their beadwork and
tanned skins for sale. A good market-place for these was this spot where
the Kootenai River is touched by the iron road that drives from the lakes
to the Pacific. The road runs along our Northern boundary so close that it
is called the "Great Northern," and verily the land it touches is great in
its wildness and its beauty.
The two men, with their trophies of elk-horn and beaver paws, with their
scarred outfit and a general air of elation gained from a successful
"outing," tramped down to the little station after a last lingering view
toward far hunting grounds. While waiting for the train bound eastward,
they employed their time in dickering with the Indian moccasin-makers, of
whom they bought arrows and gaily painted bows of ash, with which to deck
the wall of some far-away city home.
While thus engaged, a little fleet of canoes was sighted skimming down the
river from that greater wilderness of the North, penetrated at that time
only by the prospector, or a chance hunter; for the wealth of gold in
those high valleys had not yet been more than hinted at, and the hint had
not reached the ears of the world.
Even the Indians were aroused from their lethargy, and watched with keen
curiosity the approaching canoes. When from the largest there stepped
forth a young girl--a rather remarkable-looking young girl--there was a
name spoken by a tall Indian boatman, who stood near the two strangers.
The Indians nodded their heads, and the name was passed from one to the
other--the name 'Tana--a soft, musical name as they pronounced it. One of
the strangers, hearing it, turned quickly to a white ranchman, who had a
ferry at that turn of the river, and asked if that was the young girl who
had helped locate the new gold find at the Twin Springs.
"Likely," agreed the ranchman. "Word came that she was to cut the diggings
and go to school a spell. A Mr. Haydon, who represents a company that's to
work the mine, sent down word that a special party was to go East over the
road from here to-day; so I guess she's one of the specials. She came near
going on a special to the New Jerusalem, she did, not many days ago. I
reckon you folks heard how Lee Holly--toughest man in the length of the
Columbia--was wiped off the living earth by her last week."
"We heard she was cleared of it," assented the stranger.
"Yes, so she was, so she was--cleared by an alibi, sworn to by Dan
Overton. You don't know Dan, I suppose? Squarest man you ever met! And he
don't have to scratch gravel any more, either, for he has a third interest
in that Twin Spring find, and it pans out big. They say the girl sold her
share for two hundred thousand. She doesn't look top-heavy over it,
either."
And she did not. She walked between two men--one a short, rather pompous
elderly man, who bore a slight resemblance to her, and whom she treated
rather coolly.
"Of course I am not tired," she said, in a strong, musical voice. "I have
been brought all the way on cushions, so how could I be? Why, I have gone
alone in a canoe on a longer trail than we floated over, and I think I
will again some day. Max, there is one thing I want in this world, and
want bad; that is, to get Mr. Haydon out on a trip where we can't eat
until we kill and cook our dinner. He doesn't know anything about real
comfort; he wants too many cushions."
The man she called Max bent his head and whispered something to her, at
which her face flushed just a little and a tiny wrinkle crept between her
straight, beautiful brows.
"I told you not to say pretty things that way, just because you think
girls like to hear them. I don't. Maybe I will when I get civilized; but
Mr. Haydon thinks that is a long ways ahead, doesn't he?" The wrinkle was
gone--vanished in a quizzical smile, as she looked up into the very
handsome face of the young fellow.
"So do I," he acknowledged. "I have a strong desire, especially when you
snub me, to be the man to take you on a lone trail like that. I will, too,
some day."
"Maybe you will," she agreed. "But I feel sorry for you beforehand."
She seemed a tantalizing specimen of girlhood, as she stood there, a
slight, brown slip of a thing, dressed in a plain flannel suit, the color
of her golden-brown short curls. In her brown cloth hat the wings of a
redbird gleamed--the feathers and her lips having all there was of bright
color about her; for her face was singularly colorless for so young a
girl. The creamy skin suggested a pale-tinted blossom, but not a fragile
one; and the eyes--full eyes of wine-brown--looked out with frank daring
on the world.
But for all the daring brightness of her glances, it was not a joyous
face, such as one would wish a girl of seventeen to possess. A little
cynical curve of the red mouth, a little contemptuous glance from those
brown eyes, showed one that she took her measurements of individuals by a
gauge of her own, and that she had not that guileless trust in human
nature that is supposed to belong to young womanhood. The full expression
indicated an independence that seemed a breath caught from the wild beauty
of those Northern hills.
Her gaze rested lightly on the two strangers and their trophies of the
chase, on the careless ferryman, and the few stragglers from the ranch and
the cabins. These last had gathered there to view the train and its people
as they passed, for the ties on which the iron rails rested were still of
green wood, and the iron engines of transportation were recent additions
to those lands of the far North, and were yet a novelty.
Over the faces of the white men her eyes passed carelessly. She did not
seem much interested in civilized men, even though decked in finer raiment
than was usual in that locality; and, after a cool glance at them all, she
walked directly past them and spoke to the tall Indian who had first
uttered her name to the others.
His face brightened when she addressed him; but their words were low, as
are ever the words of an Indian in converse, low and softly modulated; and
the girl did not laugh in the face of the native as she had when the
handsome young white man had spoken to her in softened tones.
The two sportsmen gave quickened attention to her as they perceived she
was addressing the Indian in his own language. Many gestures of her slim
brown hands aided her speech, and as he watched her face, one of the
sportsmen uttered the impulsive exclamation at the beginning of this
story. It seemed past belief that she could have committed the deed with
which her name had been connected, and of which the Kootenai valley had
heard a great deal during the week just passed. That it had become the one
topic of general interest in the community was due partly to the
personality of the girl, and partly to the fact that the murdered man had
been one of the most notorious in all that wild land extending north and
west into British Columbia.
Looking at the frank face of the girl and hearing her musical, decided
tones, the man had a reasonable warrant for deciding that she was not
guilty.
"She is one of the most strongly interesting girls of her age I have ever
seen," he decided. "Girls of that age generally lack character. | 2,272.179632 |
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FROM SAIL TO STEAM
RECOLLECTIONS OF NAVAL LIFE
BY
CAPT. A. T. MAHAN
U.S.N. (RETIRED)
AUTHOR OF
"THE INFLUENCE OF SEA-POWER UPON HISTORY" ETC.
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
MCMVII
Copyright, 1906, 1907, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
_All rights reserved._
Published October, 1907.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
PREFACE v
INTRODUCING MYSELF ix
I. NAVAL CONDITIONS BEFORE THE WAR OF SECESSION--THE
OFFICERS AND SEAMEN 3
II. NAVAL CONDITIONS BEFORE THE WAR OF SECESSION--THE
VESSELS 25
III. THE NAVAL ACADEMY IN ITS RELATION TO THE NAVY AT
LARGE 45
IV. THE NAVAL ACADEMY IN ITS INTERIOR WORKINGS--PRACTICE
CRUISES 70
V. MY FIRST CRUISE AFTER GRADUATION--NAUTICAL CHARACTERS 103
VI. MY FIRST CRUISE AFTER GRADUATION--NAUTICAL SCENES
AND SCENERY--THE APPROACH OF DISUNION 127
VII. INCIDENTS OF WAR AND BLOCKADE SERVICE 156
VIII. INCIDENTS OF WAR AND BLOCKADE SERVICE--CONTINUED 179
IX. A ROUNDABOUT ROAD TO CHINA 196
X. CHINA AND JAPAN 229
XI. THE TURNING OF A LONG LANE--HISTORICAL, NAVAL, AND
PERSONAL 266
XII. EXPERIENCES OF AUTHORSHIP 302
PREFACE
When I was a boy, some years before I obtained my appointment in the
navy, I spent many of those happy hours that only childhood knows
poring over the back numbers of a British service periodical, which
began its career in 1828, with the title _Colburn's United Service
Magazine_; under which name, save and except the Colburn, it still
survives. Besides weightier matters, its early issues abounded in
reminiscences by naval officers, then yet in the prime of life, who
had served through the great Napoleonic wars. More delightful still,
it had numerous nautical stories, based probably on facts, serials
under such entrancing titles as "Leaves from my Log Book," by Flexible
Grommet, Passed Midshipman; a pen-name, the nautical felicity of which
will be best appreciated by one who has had the misfortune to handle a
grommet[1] which was not flexible. Then there was "The Order Book," by
Jonathan Oldjunk; an epithet so suggestive of the waste-heap, even to
a landsman's ears, that one marvels a man ever took it unto himself,
especially in that decline of life when we are more sensitive on the
subject of bodily disabilities than once we were. Old junk, however,
can yet be "worked up," as the sea expression goes, into other uses,
and that perhaps was what Mr. Oldjunk meant; his early adventures as a
young "luff" were, for economical reasons, worked up into their
present literary shape, with the addition of a certain amount of
extraneous matter--love-making, and the like. Indeed, so far from
uselessness, that veteran seaman and rigid economist, the Earl of St.
Vincent, when First Lord of the Admiralty, had given to a specific
form of old junk--viz., "shakings"--the honors of a special order, for
the preservation thereof, the which forms the staple of a comical
anecdote in Basil Hall's _Fragments of Voyages and Travels_; itself a
superior example of the instructive "recollections," of less literary
merit, which but for Colburn's would have perished.
Any one who has attempted to write history knows what queer nuggets of
useful information lie hidden away in such papers; how they often help
to reconstruct an incident, or determine a mooted point. If the
Greeks, after the Peloponnesian war, had had a Colburn's, we should
have a more certain, if not a perfect, clew to the reconstruction of
the trireme; and probably even could deduce with some accuracy the
daily routine, the several duties, and hear the professional jokes and
squabbles, of their officers and crews. The serious people who write
history can never fill the place of the gossips, who pour out an
unpremeditated mixture of intimate knowledge and idle trash.
Trash? Upon the whole is not the trash the truest history? perhaps not
the most valuable, but the most real? If you want contemporary color,
contemporary atmosphere, you must seek it among the impressions which
can be obtained only from those who have lived a life amid particular
surroundings, which they breathe and which colors them--dyes them in
the wool. However skilless, they cannot help reproducing, any more
than water poured from an old ink-bottle can help coming out more or
less black; although, if sufficiently pretentious, they can
monstrously caricature, especially if they begin with the modest
time-worn admission that they are more familiar with the marling-spike
than with the pen. But even the caricature born of pretentiousness
will not prevent the unpremeditated betrayal of conditions, facts, and
incidents, which help reconstruct the _milieu_; how much more, then,
the unaffected simplicity of the born story-teller. I do not know how
Froissart ranks as an authority with historians. I have not read him
for years; and my recollections are chiefly those of childhood, with
all the remoteness and all the vivid | 2,272.280957 |
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2023-11-16 18:54:56.4637650 | 337 | 6 | "A RICH MAN'S WAR"***
E-text prepared by ellinora and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by
Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/frenziedlibertyt00kahn
Transcriber’s note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
FRENZIED LIBERTY
The Myth of “A Rich Man’S War”
by
OTTO H. KAHN
Extracts from Address Given at the University of Wisconsin,
Jan. 14, 1918
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part One
Frenzied Liberty
------------------------------------------------------------------------
FRENZIED LIBERTY
We are engaged in a war, an “irrepressible conflict,” a most just and
righteous war for a cause as high and noble as ever inspired a people to
put forth its utmost of sacrifice and valor. To attain the end for which
this peace-loving nation unsheathed its sword, to lay low and make
powerless the accursed spirit which brought all this unspeakable misery,
sorrow and ruin upon the world, is our one and supreme and unshakeable
purpose.
That is the purpose of the people of Wisconsin as it is the purpose of
the people of New York and of every other State in the Union. I give no
credence to and have no patience with those who would measure as with a
thermometer the loyalty | 2,272.483805 |
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Gutenberg. (This book was produced from scanned images of
public domain material from the Google Print project.)
THE KATIPUNAN
An Illustrated
Historical and Biographical Study
of the Society which Brought about the
Insurrection of 1896-98 & 1899
Taken From Spanish State Documents
By
FRANCIS ST. CLAIR
Manila
Tip. "Amigos del Pais," Palacio 258
1902
THE KATIPUNAN
Or
The Rise and Fall of the Filipino Commune
By
FRANCIS ST. CLAIR
Manila
Tip. "Amigos del Pais," Palacio 258
1902
TO THE HONORABLE FILIPINOS
Who, True to the
Principles of
Patriotism
have not harbored in their hearts sentiments of ingratitude toward that
noble Nation which raised them to the level of civilization to which
they have attained, not have at any time conspired against the lawfully
constituted authorities, Spanish or American, of this Archipelago.
To such honorable Filipinos as these, it gives me the greatest pleasure
to dedicate this small work, as a token of the genuine respect in
which they are held by
The Author.
INTRODUCTION
"Manila, 21st (Aug. '96).--The Governor General to the Colonial
Minister:
Vast organization of secret societies discovered with anti-national
tendencies.
Twenty-two persons detained, among them the Gran Oriente
(of Philippine freemasonry) of the Philippines, and others of
importance.....................................................
...............................................................
Immediate action taken and special judge will be designated for
greater activity in the proceedings............................
...............................................................
--Blanco.
Such was the telegram sent by Gen. Blanco and read by Sr. Castellano
in the Spanish Camara, announcing the discovery of the revolutionary
movement headed by the Katipunan, the bastard child of Filipino
freemasonry.
Freemasonry in the Philippines was but a pretext: under this pretext
the enemies of Spain, in days of Spanish rule, and the enemies of
the U. S. in these days of American rule, put themselves into close
and secret communion, to earn out plans of revolt.
This Filipino masonry cast its net far and wide, and in its meshes were
caught many fish of all classes and conditions; some of them men of
money who sought in masonry what money could easily purchase,--honors
and titles, grand crosses and medals; others were men whose pockets
were more or less replete, and whose aims were of a great variety of
natures; whilst others were men whose treasuries were more or less
empty and who sought in masonry what they did not care to earn by
honest labor--a livelihood.
Masonry was imported into the Archipelago, shortly after the Spanish
Revolution, and was, during the first years of its life, confined
to Spaniards; but later on it opened its doors to half-castes and
indians. In 1887 it extended by leaps and bounds; but upon the
coming of Gen. Weyler to the Arch | 2,272.579409 |
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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 62.
JANUARY 6TH, 1872.
[Illustration: PUNCH
VOL LXII.]
LONDON:
PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICE, 85, FLEET STREET,
AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS.
1872.
LONDON:
BRADBURY, EVANS, AND CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
[Illustration: PREFACE]
"GENTLEMEN ARBITRATORS, I salute you in the concrete," said MR. PUNCH,
walking up to the table of the Hall of Congress at Geneva. "I also
salute you specially. COUNT SCLOPIS, _una voce poco fa_; M. STAEMPFLI,
my Merry Swiss Boy, _point d'argent, point de Suisse_; BARON ITAJUBA, I
hope your _sangre azul_ is cool this hot weather."
"Really, MR. PUNCH," said the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE COCKBURN----
"And really, my dear SIR ALEXANDER," was MR. PUNCH's lightning-like
repartee. "How are you? and DAVIS, my BANCROFT, how are you? Have you
seen MRS. BANCROFT in _Caste_? Capital, isn't she? And now to business,
and after that we'll go for a row on the Lake, my Allobroges. Know they
settled here, DAVIS?"
"I know several things," said MR. DAVIS, "and one is that you have no
business in this chamber."
"_Rem acu tetigisti_, my Occidental. My visit is strictly on pleasure.
And I reckon to have the pleasure of sticking these here Negotiations in
a greased groove before I quit."
"Porter!" exclaimed the COUNT SCLOPIS, angrily.
"Not a drop, I thank you," said MR. PUNCH, smiling. "We should not get
it good here. A bottle of Seltzer, if you please, with a slight dash of
the liquid named after yonder lake, but unsweetened."
His exquisite good-temper--he associates with GRANVILLE and
DISRAELI--was too much for the dignitaries. They all shook hands with
him, said he was welcome, and begged that he would go away until
dinner-time.
"Not a bit of it, my Beamish Boys," said MR. PUNCH. "I am going to earn
that dinner."
"But, dear MR. PUNCH," pleaded MR. DAVIS, "we can't admit another
British Representative, especially so omnipotent a one as yourself."
"You are polite, and I'm cosmopolite, my dear DAVIS. _Non ubi nascor,
sed ubi pascor_, and being asked to an international repast I shall
behave internationally."
"You will have to let him speak," laughed BARON ITAJUBA.
"You open your mouth to drop Brazilian diamonds, my Baron."
"_He'd better remain, for I don't think he'll go_," gaily carolled the
Chief Justice, with a reminiscence of a burlesque written at a time when
burlesques were comic.
"_Take your brief, and belabour away_," sang the Merry Swiss Boy.
"Come, MR. PUNCH," said the Count, "you and I have a common Italian
| 2,272.708649 |
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domain material from the Google Print project.)
[Transcriber's Note: Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and
small-capped text by =equal signs=. Transliterations of Greek text are
denoted by #number signs#.]
NOVUM ORGANUM
BY
LORD BACON
EDITED BY JOSEPH DEVEY, M.A.
[Illustration: Publisher's logo]
NEW YORK
P. F. COLLIER & SON
MCMII
22
SCIENCE
NOVUM ORGANUM
OR
TRUE SUGGESTIONS FOR THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE
PREFACE
They who have presumed to dogmatize on nature, as on some well
investigated subject, either from self-conceit or arrogance, and in the
professorial style, have inflicted the greatest injury on philosophy
and learning. For they have tended to stifle and interrupt inquiry
exactly in proportion as they have prevailed in bringing others to
their opinion: and their own activity has not counterbalanced the
mischief they have occasioned by corrupting and destroying that of
others. They again who have entered upon a contrary course, and
asserted that nothing whatever can be known, whether they have fallen
into this opinion from their hatred of the ancient sophists, or from
the hesitation of their minds, or from an exuberance of learning, have
certainly adduced reasons for it which are by no means contemptible.
They have not, however, derived their opinion from true sources,
and, hurried on by their zeal and some affectation, have certainly
exceeded due moderation. But the more ancient Greeks (whose writings
have perished), held a more prudent mean, between the arrogance of
dogmatism, and the despair of scepticism; and though too frequently
intermingling complaints and indignation at the difficulty of inquiry,
and the obscurity of things, and champing, as it were, the bit, have
still persisted in pressing their point, and pursuing their intercourse
with nature; thinking, as it seems, that the better method was not to
dispute upon the very point of the possibility of anything being known,
but to put it to the test of experience. Yet they themselves, by only
employing the power of the understanding, have not adopted a fixed
rule, but have laid their whole stress upon intense meditation, and a
continual exercise and perpetual agitation of the mind.
Our | 2,272.747795 |
2023-11-16 18:54:56.9587080 | 28 | 16 |
Produced by David Widger
MEMOIRS OF LOUIS XV. AND XVI.
Being Secret Memoirs of Madame du Haus | 2,272.978748 |
2023-11-16 18:54:56.9631100 | 5,195 | 6 |
Produced by Greg Bergquist, Ernest Schaal, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
THE DOCTOR'S CHRISTMAS EVE
[Illustration]
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK. BOSTON. CHICAGO
ATLANTA. SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED
LONDON. BOMBAY. CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
TORONTO
THE DOCTOR'S CHRISTMAS EVE
_Secretum meum mihi_
FRANCIS OF ASSISI
BY
JAMES LANE ALLEN
AUTHOR OF "THE BRIDE OF THE MISTLETOE," "THE CHOIR
INVISIBLE," "A SUMMER IN ARCADY," ETC.
=New York=
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1910
_All rights reserved_
COPYRIGHT, 1910,
BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
* * * * *
Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1910.
=Norwood Press=
J. S. Cushing Co.--Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
TO THE SOWER
PREFACE
THIS work now published under the title of "The Doctor's Christmas Eve"
is the one earlier announced for publication under the title of "A Brood
of the Eagle."
"The Doctor, Herbert and Elsie's father, our nearest neighbor,
your closest friend now in middle life--do you ever tire of the
Doctor and wish him away?"
"The longer I know him, the more I like him, honor him, trust
him."
--_The Bride of the Mistletoe._
CONTENTS
PART FIRST
I
PAGE
THE CHILDREN OF DESIRE 1
II
WHEN A SON FINDS OUT ABOUT HIS FATHER 32
III
THE BOOKS OF THE YEAR 69
IV
THE BOOK OF THE YEARS 107
V
EVERGREEN AND THORN TREE 195
PART SECOND
I
TWO OTHER WINTER SNOWBIRDS AT A WINDOW 213
II
FOUR IN A CAGE 233
III
THE REALM OF MIDNIGHT 258
IV
TIME-SPIRIT AND ETERNAL SPIRIT 271
V
WHEN A FATHER FINDS OUT ABOUT A SON 285
VI
LIVING OUT THE YEARS 297
PART I
THE DOCTOR'S CHRISTMAS EVE
I
THE CHILDREN OF DESIRE
THE morning of the twenty-fourth of December a quarter of a century ago
opened upon the vast plateau of central Kentucky as a brilliant but
bitter day--with a wind like the gales of March.
Out in a neighborhood of one of the wealthiest and most thickly settled
counties, toward the middle of the forenoon, two stumpy figures with
movements full of health and glee appeared on a hilltop of the treeless
landscape. They were the children of the neighborhood physician, a man
of the highest consequence in his part of the world; and they had come
from their home, a white and lemon- eighteenth-century manor
house a mile in their rear. Through the crystalline air the chimneys of
this low structure, rising out of a green girdle of cedar trees, could
be seen emptying unusual smoke which the wind in its gambolling pounced
upon and jerked away level with the chimney-tops.
But if you had stood on the hill where the two children climbed into
view and if your eye could have swept round the horizon with adequate
radius of vision, it would everywhere have been greeted by the same
wondrous harmonious spectacle: out of the chimneys of all dwellings
scattered in comfort and permanence over that rich domestic land--a land
of Anglo-Saxon American homes--more than daily winter smoke was pouring:
one spirit of preparation, one mood of good will, warmed houses and
hearts. The whole visible heaven was receiving the incense of Kentucky
Christmas fires; the whole visible earth was a panorama of the common
peace.
The two dauntless, frost-defying wayfarers--what Emerson, meeting them
in the depths of a New England winter, might have called two scraps of
valor--were following across fields and meadows and pastures one of the
footpaths which children who are friendly neighbors naturally make in
order to get to each other, as the young of wild creatures trace for
themselves upon the earth some new map of old hereditary traits and
cravings. For the goal of their journey they were hurrying toward a
house not yet in sight but hardly more than a mile ahead, where they
were to spend Christmas Day and share in an old people's and children's
Christmas-Tree party on Christmas Night--and where also they were to put
into execution a plot of their own: about which a good deal is to be
narrated.
They were thus transferring the nation's yearly festival of the home
from their own roof-tree to that of another family as the place where it
could be enacted and enjoyed. The tragical meaning of this arrangement
was but too well understood by their parents. To them the abandonment of
their own fireside at the season when its bonds should have been
freshened and deepened scarcely seemed an unnatural occurrence. The
other house had always been to them as a secondary home. It was the
residence of their father's friend, a professor in the State University
situated some miles off across fine country. His two surviving children,
a boy and a girl of about their own ages, had always been their intimate
associates. And the woman of that household--the wife, the mother--all
their lives they had been mysteriously impelled toward this gentlewoman
by a power of which they were unconscious but by which they had been
swayed.
The little girl wore a crimson hood and a brown cloak and the boy a
crimson skull cap and a brown overcoat; and both wore crimson mittens;
and both were red-legged and red-footed; for stockings had been drawn
over their boots to insure warmth and to provide safeguard against
slipping when they should cross the frozen Elkhorn or venture too
friskily on silvery pools in the valley bottoms.
The chestnut braids of the girl falling heavily from under her hood met
in a loop in the middle of her broad fat back and were tied there with a
snip of ribbon that looked like a feather out of the wing of a bluejay.
Her bulging hips overreached the borders of the narrow path, so that the
boy was crowded out upon the rough ground as he struggled forward close
beside her. She would not allow him to walk in front of her and he
disdained to walk behind.
"Then walk beside me or go back!" she had said to him, laughing
carelessly.
She looked so tight inside her wrappings, so like a jolly ambulatory
small barrel well hooped and mischievously daubed here and there with
vermilion, that you might have had misgivings as to the fate of the
barrel, were it to receive a violent jolt and be rolled over. No thought
of such mishap troubled her as she trotted forward, balancing herself as
lightly on her cushioned feet as though she were wind-carried
thistledown. Nor was she disturbed by her selfishness in monopolizing
the path and forcing her brother to encounter whatsoever the winter
earth obtruded--stumps of forest trees, brambles of blackberry, sprouts
of cane, or stalks of burdock and of Spanish needle. His footing was
especially troublesome when he tried to straddle wide corn-rows with his
short legs; or when they crossed a hemp-field where the butt-ends of the
stalks serried the frost-gray soil like bayonet points. Altogether his
exertions put him out of breath somewhat, for his companion was fleet
and she made no allowance for his delays and difficulties.
Her hands, deep in the fleece-lined mittens, were comfortably warm; but
she moreover kept them thrust into a muff of white fur, which also
looked overfed and seemed of a gay harmony with its owner. This muff she
now and then struck against her flexed knees in a vixenish playfulness
as one beats a tambourine on a bent elbow; and at a certain point of the
journey, having glanced sidewise at him and remarked his breath on the
icy air, she lifted it to her mouth and spoke guardedly from behind
it:--
"Remember the last thing Papa told us at the window, Herbert: we were to
keep our mouths closed and to breathe through our noses. And remember
also, my child, that we were to rely upon--_especially_ to rely
upon--the ribs and the diaphragm! I wonder why he thought it necessary
to tell us that! Did he suppose that as soon as we got by ourselves or
arrived at the Ousleys', we'd begin to rely upon something else, and
perhaps try to breathe with our spines and elbows?"
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and her laughter had the audacity of a
child's satire, often more terrible in its small world than a sage's in
his larger one. The instant she spoke, you recognized the pertness and
precocity of an American child--which, when seen at its best or at its
worst, is without precedent or parallel among the world's children. She
was the image of a hard bold crisp newness. Her speech was new, her
ideas were new, her impertinence was new--except in this country. She
appeared to have gathered newness during her short life, to be newer
than the day she was born. The air was full of frost spangles that
zigzagged about her as she danced along; they rather seemed like
particles of salt especially provided to escort her character. If it had
been granted Lot's wife with tears of repentance to dissolve away the
crystals of her curiosity and resume the duties of motherhood,--though
possibly permeated by a mild saline solution as a warning,--that
salt-cured matron might admirably have adapted herself to the decrees of
Providence by producing Elsie.
The boy as she administered her caution stopped; and shutting his own
red mouth, which was like hers though more generous, he drew a long
breath through his nostrils; then, throwing back his head, he blew this
out with an open-mouthed puff, and a column of white steam shot up into
the blue ether and was whirled away by the wind. He stood studying it
awhile as it disappeared, for he was a close observer always--a
perpetual watcher of the thing that is--sometimes an observer fearful to
confront. Then he sprang forward to catch up with his sharp-tongued
monitress, who had hurried on. As he came alongside, he turned his face
toward her and made his reply, which was certainly deliberate enough in
arriving:--
"We have to be _taught_ the best way to breathe, Elsie; as anything
else!"
The defence only brought on a fresh attack:--
"I wonder who teaches the young of other animals how to breathe! I
should like to know who teaches kittens and puppies and calves and
lambs how to breathe! How _do_ they ever manage to get along without
country doctors among them! Imagine a middle-aged sheep--old Dr.
Buck--assembling a flock of lambs and trying to show them how to
breathe!" Judging from Elsie's expression, the lambs in the case could
not have thought very highly of this queer and genial Dr. Buck.
"But _they_ are all four-legged creatures, Elsie; and _they_ breathe
backward and forward; if you are a two-legged animal and stand up
straight, you breathe up and down: it's quite different! It's easier!"
"Then I suppose the fewer legs a thing has, the harder it is to get its
breath. And I suppose if we ventured to stand on _one_ leg, we'd all
soon suffocate! Dear me! why _don't_ all one-legged people die at once!"
The lad looked over the field of war on which it would seem that he was
being mowed down by small-gun fire before he could get his father's
heavy artillery into action. He decided to terminate the wordy
engagement, a prudential manoeuvre of the wiser head but slower tongue.
"Father is right," he declared. His manner of speaking was sturdy and
decisive: it was meant to remind her first that he had enough gallantry
as a male to permit her to crowd him out of the path; but that the
moment a struggle for mental footing arose between them, he reserved the
whole road: the female could take to the weeds! He notified her also
that he stood with his father not only in this puzzling question of legs
and parlous types of respiration, but that the men in the family were
regularly combined against the women--like good organized against evil!
But now something further had transpired. Had there been present on the
winter fields that morning an ear trained to separate our complex human
tones into simple ones--to disengage one from another the different
fibres of meaning which always make up even the slenderest tendril of
sound (as there is a cluster of grapes to a solitary stem), it might, as
it noted one thing, have discovered another. While the boy asserted his
father to be right in the matter they were debating, there escaped from
him an accent of admission that his father was wrong--wrong in some far
graver affair which was his discovery and his present trouble.
Therefore his voice, which should have been buoyant, for the instant was
depressed; and his face, which should have been a healthy boy's happy
face, was overcast as by a foreign interference. You might have likened
it to a small luminary upon the shining disk of which a larger body,
traversing its darkened orbit, has just begun to project a wavering
shadow. And thus some patient astronomer of our inter-orbited lives,
sweeping the spiritual heavens for signs of its pendent mysteries, here
might have arrested his telescope to watch the portent of a celestial
event: was there to take place the eclipse of a son by a father?
Certainly at least this weight of responsibility on the voice must have
caused it to strike only the more winningly upon any hearer. It was such
a devoted, loyal voice when he thus spoke of his father, with a curious
quavering huskiness of its own, as though the bass note of his distant
manhood were already beginning to clamor to be heard.
The voice of the little girl contrariwise was a shrill treble. Had you
first become aware of it at your back, you must instantly have wheeled
to investigate the small creature it came from, as a wild animal quickly
turns to face any sound that startles its instincts. Voltaire might have
had such a voice if he had been a little girl. Yet to look at her, you
would never have imagined that anything but the honey of speech could
have dripped from so perfect a little rose. (Many surprises await
mankind behind round amiable female faces: shrews are not _all_ thin.)
Instead of being silenced by her brother's ultimatum, she did not deign
to notice it, but continued to direct her voluble satire at her
father--quite with the air of saying that a girl who can satirize a
parent is not to be silenced by a son.
"... forever telling us that American children must have the newest and
best way of doing everything.... My, my, my! The working of our jaws!
And the drinking and the breathing; and the stretching and the bending:
developing everything we have--and everything we haven't! I am even
trying now to find an original American way to go to sleep at night and
to wake up in the morning! Dear me, but old people can be silly without
knowing it!" She laughed with much self-approval.
For Elsie had already entered into one of mankind's most dependable
recreations--the joy of listening to our own words: into that economic
arrangement of nature whereby whatsoever a human being might lose
through the vocal cords is returned to the owner along the auditory
nerve! So that a woman can eat her colloquial cake times over: and each
time, having devoured it, can return it to the storeroom and have it
brought out as whole and fresh as ever--sometimes actually increased in
size. And a man can send his vocal Niagara through his whirlpool rapids
and catch it again above the falls! The more gold the delver unearths,
the more he can empty back into the thinking mine. One can sit in his
own cranial theatre and produce his own play: he can be stage and
orchestra, audience and critic; and he can see that the claque does not
get drowsy and slack: it never does--in _this_ case!
The child now threw back her round winter-rose of a face and started
along the path with a fresh outburst of speed and pride. Access of
impertinence seemed to have released in her access of vitality. Perhaps
it had. Perhaps it always does. Perhaps life itself at the full is sheer
audacity.
The lad scrambled roughly along, and merely repeated the words that
sufficed for him:--
"Father knows."
Suddenly he gave a laughing outcry, and stood still.
"Look!" he called out, with amusement at his plight.
He had run into some burdock, and the nettles had stuck to his yarn
stockings like stinging bees--a cluster of them about his knees and
calves. He drew off his gloves, showing the strong, overgrown hands of
boyhood: they, like his voice, seemed impatiently reaching out for
maturity.
When he overtook his companion, who had not stopped, he had transferred
a few of the burrs to his skull cap. He had done this with crude
artistry--from some faint surviving impulse of primitive man to decorate
his body with things around him in nature: especially his head (possibly
he foresaw that his head would be most struck at). The lad was pleased
with his caper; and, smiling, thrust his head across her path, expecting
her to take sympathetic notice. He had reason to expect this, because on
dull rainy days at home he often amused her with the things he did and
the things he made: for he was a natural carpenter and toy-maker. But
now she took only the contemptuous notice of disapproval. This morning
her mind was intent on playthings of positive value: she was a little
travelling ten-toed pagoda of holiday greed. Every Christmas she
prepared for its celebration with a balancing eye to what it would cost
her and what it would bring in: she always calculated to receive more
than she gave: for Elsie, the Nativity must be made _to pay_!
He resented her refusal to approve his playfulness by so much as a
smile, and he came back at her by doing worse:--
"Why didn't I think to bring all the burrs along and make a Christmas
basket for Elizabeth? Now what will I give her?"
This drew out a caustic comment quickly enough:--
"Poor Elizabeth!"
A child resents injustice with a blow or rage or tears: the old have
learned to endure without a sign--waiting for God's day of judgment (or
their first good opportunity!).
He was furious at the way she said "Poor Elizabeth"--as though
Elizabeth's hands would be empty of gifts from him.
"You _know_ I have _bought_ my presents for Elizabeth, Elsie!" he
exclaimed. "But Elizabeth thinks more of what I _make_ than of what I
_buy_," he continued hotly. "And the less it is worth, the more she
values it. But you can't understand _that_, Elsie! And you needn't try!"
The little minx laughed with triumph that she had incensed him.
"I don't expect to try!" she retorted blithely. "I don't see that I'd
gain anything, if I _did_ understand. You and Elizabeth are a great deal
too--"
He interrupted overbearingly:--
"Leave Elizabeth out! Confine your remarks to me!"
"My remarks will be wholly unconfined," said Elsie, as she trotted
forward.
He scrambled alongside in silent rage. Perhaps he was thinking of his
inability to reach protected female license. He may obscurely have felt
that life's department of justice was being balked at the moment by its
department of natural history--a not uncommon interference in this too
crowded world. At least he put himself on record about it:--
"If you were a boy, Elsie, you'd get taken down a buttonhole!"
"Don't you worry about my buttonholes!" chirped Elsie. "My buttonholes
are where they ought to be!"
It was not the first time that he had made something of this sort for
Elizabeth. One morning of the May preceding he had pulled apart the
boughs of a blooming lilac bush in the yard, and had seen a nest with
four pale-green eggs. That autumn during a ramble in the woods and
fields he had taken burrs and made a nest and deposited in it four
pale-green half-ripe horse chestnuts.
Elizabeth, who did not amount to much in this world but breath and a
soft cloud of hair and sentiment, had loyally carried it off to her
cabinet of nests. These were duly arranged on shelves, and labelled
according to species and life and love: "The Meadow Lark's"--"The
Blue-bird's"--"The Orchard Oriole's"--"The Brown Thrasher's"; on and on
along the shelves. At the end of a row she placed this treasured
curiosity, and inscribed it, "An Imitation by a Young Animal."
Elizabeth's humor was a mild beam.
Do country children in that part of the world make such playthings now?
Do they still look to wild life and not wholly to the shops of cities
for the satisfying of their instincts for toys and games and fancies?
Do alder stalks still race down dusty country lanes as thoroughbred
colts, afterwards to be tied in their stalls in fence corners with
halters of green hemp? Does any little rustic instrument-maker now
draw melodies from a homegrown corn-stalk? Across rattling
window-panes of old farm-houses--between withered sashes--during long
winter nights does there sound the aeolian harp made with a hair from a
horse-tail? Do boys still squeeze the red juice of poke-berries on the
plumage of white barnyard roosters, thus whenever they wish bringing
on a cock-fight between old far-squandered Cochins, who long
previously had entered into a treaty as to their spheres of influence
in a Manchuria of hens? Do the older boys some wet night lead the
youngest around the corner of the house in the darkness and show him,
there! rising out of the ground! the long expected Devil come at last
(as a pumpkin carved and candle-lighted) for his own particular urchin?
When in autumn the great annual ceremony of the slaughter of the swine
takes place on the farms at the approach of the winter sol | 2,272.98315 |
2023-11-16 18:54:57.1198790 | 5,570 | 11 |
Produced by Linda M. Everhart, Blairstown, Missouri
Wolf and Coyote
Trapping
An Up-to-Date Wolf Hunter's Guide, Giving the
Most Successful Methods of Experienced
"Wolfers" for Hunting and Trapping
These Animals, Also Gives
Their Habits in Detail.
BY
A. R. HARDING
Published by
A. R. HARDING PUB. CO.
COLUMBUS, OHIO
Copyright 1909
By A. R. HARDING PUB. CO.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
I. The Timber Wolf
II. The Coyote
III. Killing of Stock and Game by Wolves
IV. Bounties
V. Hunting Young Wolves and Coyotes
VI. Hunting Wolves with Dogs
VII. Still Hunting Wolves and Coyotes
VIII. Poisoning Wolves
IX. Trapping Wolves
X. Scents and Baits
XI. Scent Methods
XII. Bait Methods for Wolves
XIII. Southern Bait Methods for Coyotes
XIV. Northern Bait Methods for Coyotes
XV. Blind Set Methods
XVI. Snow Set Methods
XVII. Some Rules and Things to Remember
XVIII. The Treacherous Grey Wolf
XIX. Wolf Catching
XX. With the Coyotes
XXI. Wolf Trapping an Art
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Map Showing the Range of the Timber Wolf
Western Grey Wolf in a Trap
Track of the Grey Wolf
Coyote and Badger Killed in Texas
A Trapped Coyote
Track of the Coyote
Wolves Killing a Deer
Remains of Deer Killed by Wolves
Grey Wolf
Diagrams showing Difference in Size of Wolves and Coyotes
A Wyoming Wolf Den
A Near View of the Den
Young Wolves at Entrance of Den
The Hunter's Outfit
An Oklahoma Hunter with Young Coyotes
Catch of a Canadian Hunter
A Still Hunter and His Outfit
Killed by the Still Hunt
Method of Preparing Poison Baits
The Newhouse Wolf Trap
The Two-Pronged Drag
Method of Attaching an Oblong Stone
Method of Attaching a Triangular Stone
Iron Stakes for Traps
Trap Set and Ready for Covering
Wyoming Wolf Trapper
Caught in a Scent Set
Trail Bait Set
The Square Setting
Coyote Caught at a Bank Set
Wolf Water Set
A Trapped Wolf
A Trapped Texas Coyote
A Northern Coyote
An Idaho Coyote
A Trail Set
Traps Set at Badger Den
A Good Catch
A Snow Set
A Large Wisconsin Wolf
Mr. Davis with the Big Wolf Skins
A Texas Specimen
Caught at Last
A Northern Wolf
[Illustration: A. R. Harding.]
INTRODUCTION.
There are certain wild animals which when hard pressed by severe cold
and hunger, will raid the farmers and ranchmen's yards, killing fowls
and stock. There however, are no animals that destroy so much stock
as wolves and coyotes as they largely live upon the property of
farmers, settlers and ranchmen to which they add game as they can get
it.
While these animals are trapped, shot, poisoned, hunted with dogs,
etc., their numbers, in some states, seem to be on the increase
rather than the decrease in face of the fact that heavy bounties are
offered.
The fact that wolf and coyote scalps command a bounty, in many
states, and in addition their pelts are valuable, makes the hunting
and trapping of these animals of no little importance.
One thing that has helped to keep the members of these "howlers" so
numerous is the fact that they are among the shrewdest animal in
America. The day of their extermination is, no doubt, far in the
distance.
This book contains much of value to those who expect to follow the
business of catching wolves and coyotes. A great deal of the habits
and many of the methods were written by Mr. E. Kreps, who has had
experience with these animals upon the Western Plains, in Canada, and
the South. Additional information has been secured from Government
Bulletins and experienced "wolfers" from various parts of America.
A. R. Harding.
WOLF AND COYOTE TRAPPING
CHAPTER I.
THE TIMBER WOLF.
Wolves of all species belong to that class of animals known as the
dog family, the members of which are considered to be the most
intelligent of brute animals. They are found, in one species or
another, in almost every part of the world. They are strictly
carnivorous and are beyond all doubt the most destructive of all wild
animals.
In general appearance the wolf resembles a large dog having erect
ears, elongated muzzle, long heavy fur and bushy tail. The size and
color varies considerably as there are many varieties.
The wolves of North America may be divided into two distinct groups,
namely, the large timber wolves, and the prairie wolves or coyotes
(ki'-yote). Of the timber wolves there are a number of varieties,
perhaps species, for there is considerable difference in size and
color. For instance there is the small black wolf which is still
found in Florida, and the large Arctic wolf which is found in far
Northern Canada and Alaska, the color of which is a pure white with a
black tip to the tail. Then there is that intermediate variety known
as the Grey Wolf, also called "Timber Wolf," "Lobo" and "Wolf," the
latter indefinite name being used throughout the West to distinguish
the animal from the prairie species. It is the most common of the
American wolves, the numbers of this variety being in excess of all
of the others combined. In addition to those mentioned, there are
others such as the Red Wolf of Texas and the Brindled Wolf of Mexico.
All of these, however, belong to the group known to naturalists as
the Timber Wolves. Just how many species and how many distinct
varieties there are is not known.
As a rule, the largest wolves are found in the North; the Gray Wolves
of the western plains being slightly smaller than the white and Dusky
Wolves of Northern Canada and Alaska, specimens of which, it is said,
sometimes weigh as much as one hundred and fifty pounds. Again the
wolves of the southern part of the United States and of Mexico are
smaller than the gray variety.
[Illustration: The Range of the Timber Wolf.]
The average full grown wolf will measure about five feet in length,
from the end of the nose to the tip of the tail, and will weigh from
eighty to one hundred pounds, but specimens have been killed which
far exceeded these figures. The prevailing color is gray, being
darkest on the back and dusky on the shoulders and hips. The tail is
very bushy and the fur of the body is long and shaggy. The ears are
erect and pointed, the muzzle long and heavy, the eyes brown and
considering the fierce, bloodthirsty nature of the animal, have a
very gentle expression.
In early days wolves were found in all parts of the country but they
have been exterminated or driven out of the thickly settled portions
and their present distribution in the United States is shown by the
accompanying map. As will be noted they are found in only a small
portion of Nevada and none are found in California, but they are to
be met with in all other states west of the Missouri and the lower
Mississippi, also all of the most southern tier of states, as well as
those parts bordering on Lake Superior. A few are yet found in the
Smokey Mountains of North Carolina and Tennessee. They are probably
most abundant in Northern Michigan and Northern Minnesota, Western
Wyoming, Montana and New Mexico.
Wyoming is the center of the wolf infested country and they are found
in greatest numbers in that state, on the headwaters of the Green
River. As to the numbers still found the report of the Biological
Survey for the years 1895 to 1906, inclusive, but not including the
year 1898, shows that bounties were paid on 20,819 wolves in that
state.
In Northern Michigan they are also abundant. In the year 1907,
thirty-four wolves were killed in Ontonagon County; in Luce County
fifty-four were killed up to November 10th, '07, and in Schoolcraft
Co., thirty were killed from October 1st, '07 to April 29th, '08.
This gives a total of one hundred and eighteen wolves killed in three
out of the sixteen counties of the Upper Peninsula. These statistics
are from a pamphlet issued by the Department of Agriculture.
The breeding season of the timber wolves is not as definite as that
of many of the furbearing animals, for the young make their
appearance from early in March until in May, and an occasional litter
will be born during the summer, even as late as August. The mating
season of course varies, but is mainly in January and February, the
period of gestation being nine weeks. The number in a litter varies
from five to thirteen, the usual number being eight or ten.
In early days the wolves of the western plains followed the great
buffalo herds and preyed on the young animals, also the old and
feeble. After the extermination of that animal they turned their
attention to the herds of cattle which soon covered the great western
range and their depredations have become a positive nuisance. In the
Northern States and throughout Canada they subsist almost entirely on
wild game.
[Illustration: Western Grey Wolf in a Trap.]
Wolves den in the ground or rocks in natural dens if such can be
found, but in case natural excavations are rare as in northern
portions of the country, they appropriate and enlarge the homes of
other animals. In the heavily timbered country they sometimes den in
hollow logs.
The wolf is both cowardly and courageous, depending on circumstances.
When found singly, and especially in daylight the animal is as much
of a coward as any creature could possibly be, and especially does it
fear man. But when suffering from the pangs of hunger and when
traveling in bands as they usually do, they are bold, fierce and
bloodthirsty creatures. In such cases they have been known to attack
man.
When hunting large game, wolves always go in bands, usually of three
to five but often a larger number. They invariably kill animals by
springing on from behind and hamstringing the victim. Small game is
hunted by lone animals.
The great losses suffered by stockmen in the West led the Biological
Survey, in connection with the Forest Service of the Department of
Agriculture, to make a special investigation, and later a general
campaign against the wolves of the National Forests began. During the
year 1907 a large number of wolves and coyotes were captured in and
near the forest reserves: the number from the various states being as
follows:
STATE. WOLVES. COYOTES.
Wyoming 1,009 1,983
Montana 261 2.629
Idaho 14 3,881
Washington 10 675
Colorado 65 2,362
Oklahoma 3 15
New Mexico 232 544
Arizona 127 1,424
Utah 5,001
Nevada 500
California 224
Oregon 2 3,290
------ ------
Total 1,723 22,528
Many of these animals were captured by the forest guards but in
addition the government employed a number of expert trappers.
On the Gila National Forest 36 wolves and 30 coyotes were killed by
one forest guard, who sent the skulls to the Biological Survey for
identification, as well as the skulls of 9 bears, 7 mountain lions,
17 bobcats, and 46 grey foxes. One den of 8 very young wolf pups was
taken March 13. These statistics are from Circular 63, issued by the
U. S. Department of Agriculture.
Wolves are great ramblers, traveling over a large section of country.
Like almost all other animals of rambling habits, they have their
regular routes of travel. By this, we mean they follow the same
valleys, passes, water courses, etc., but when in pursuit of game
they sometimes stray quite a long distance out of their course.
[Illustration: Track of the Grey Wolf, Compared With That of a
Dog.]
The track of the wolf resembles that of a dog, but is a trifle
narrower in proportion to its length. The difference is in the two
middle toes, which are somewhat longer on the wolf, however, the
difference is so slight that it could easily pass unnoticed. When the
wolf is running these toes are spread well apart. The length of step
when the animal is walking will be from 18 to 24 inches, and the
average footprint will measure about 2 3/4 or 3 inches in width by
about 3 1/2 or 4 inches in length. Ernest Thompson Seton, the
naturalist claims that he can judge with fair accuracy, the weight of
a wolf by the size of the track. He allows twenty pounds for each
inch in length, of the foot print.
CHAPTER II.
THE COYOTE.
In the western parts of the United States, the coyote is far more
abundant than the grey, or timber wolf, but its range is more limited
as it is found only in those parts lying west of the Mississippi
River and in the western portion of the Dominion of Canada. As there
are a number of varieties of the timber wolf, so it is with the
coyote, but naturalists have never yet been able to agree on the
number of types and their distribution. In the Southwest, it appears
there are several distinct varieties, showing considerable difference
in size and color. Mr. Vasma Brown, a noted coyote trapper of Texas
has the following to say on the subject:
"I have lived in Texas nineteen years and have had some years of
experience with the coyotes, <DW53>s and cats. Some coyotes are of a
silver-grey color, others are dark brown. The ends of their hair are
jet black and it makes them look brown. Some have black tips on the
tail and some white. The dark variety are the most vicious of the
two."
With the exception of the southwestern section, it is probable that
the coyotes of all portions of the Great Plains and the country to
the westward are of the same variety, and a description of this, the
most common type will answer for the species. In size, the coyote or
prairie wolf is considerably smaller than the timber wolf, the
largest specimens of the former being about equal in size to the
smallest adult wolves. The average coyote will measure about
thirty-six or thirty-eight inches from the end of the nose to the
base of the tail, which is about sixteen inches additional length.
The fur is of about the same texture as that of the grey fox and the
general color is fulvous, black and white hairs being mingled in
parts, giving a grizzled appearance. The ears are larger,
comparatively than those of the grey wolf, and the muzzle is more
pointed. All through the animal appears to be of more delicate build.
A larger form of the coyote is found in Minnesota and the adjoining
territory and is commonly known as the "brush wolf". Whether this is
a distinct variety is not known.
Coyotes are intelligent and cunning animals and their habits and
general appearance suggest the fox rather than the wolf. While they
are greedy, bloodthirsty creatures, they are sneaking and cowardly
and never kill animals larger than deer, in fact they rarely attack
such large game. An Arizona trapper writes:
"The coyote bears the same relation to the wolf family that the
Apache Indian does to the human race. It is a belief among some of
the Apaches that they turn into coyotes when they depart this life,
and nothing will induce one of them to kill a coyote. Like the Indian
he is sneaky and treacherous, and full of the devil."
While there is no doubt that the animal enjoys its wild, free life,
it always has a miserable, distressed expression. It carries its tail
in a drooping manner and slinks out of sight like a dog that has been
doing wrong and has a troubled conscience.
The high piercing cry of the animal, which is so different from the
deep bass note of the timber wolf, is mournful in the extreme. In the
morning before the coyotes retire for the day, they stop on the top
of some elevation and sound their "reveille", which once heard will
never be forgotten. It is a shrill, piercing note, combining a howl
with a bark and although in all probability there will be only a pair
of the animals, one who does not know would be inclined to think that
the number is larger, the notes are so commingled.
[Illustration: Coyote and Badger Killed in Texas.]
Coyotes live in natural dens in the rocks, also in dens of badgers,
in the prairie country. In the "Bad Lands" of the West and the foot
hills of the mountain ranges, wind worn holes in the rim-rock and
buttes are quite common and the animals have no trouble in securing a
good den. Naturally, they select the most secluded and inaccessible
places for their dens. The food of the coyote consists of small game,
such as hares and grouse, prairie dogs and any other small animals
that they can capture. In the sheep raising districts of the Western
States they are very destructive to sheep and in those parts it is
probable that their food consists mostly of mutton. They feed on
carrion and have a particular liking for horse flesh. They also kill
badgers and when conditions are very favorable may kill an occasional
deer or antelope. They also sometimes kill calves and hogs.
Speaking of conditions in Oregon and other parts of the Northwest,
one of our friends writes:
"The prairie wolf or coyote in the Western states are becoming so
numerous that it looks as though the sheep industry in Idaho and
Eastern Oregon would soon be a thing of the past, if something it not
done to lesson the number of the destructive coyotes.
"Twenty years ago there were a great many coyotes in Oregon, but the
black tail rabbits were so numerous then that the coyote contented
himself with them and did not molest the sheep to any great extent.
Idaho and Oregon both put a bounty on rabbits, which soon caused them
to become scarce, then the coyotes began their depredations among the
sheep. The wool growers supplied themselves with plenty of strychnine
and kept the coyote reduced to quite an extent. Of late years it
seems that poison will not kill a coyote. As soon as he feels the
effect of the poison he throws up the bait he has just eaten, and in
a few minutes he is all right.
The only way to kill coyotes these days is with the gun, the trap or
with dogs. They are so thick here now that hounds would not be much
good, as the coyotes would change at any time and run them down. I
don't think there was a band of sheep anywhere in this country but
what suffered more or less from coyotes last winter. I trapped some
last winter for the Munz Brothers, and I saw where 48 sheep had been
killed at one camp. They had been camped there about ten days. This
is about an average killing if the weather is stormy.
"In Southeastern Oregon there is a desert about one hundred miles
square, and thirty or forty bands of sheep feed there every winter.
They run from two to three thousand sheep in a band. The sheep men on
this desert last winter, 1904-'05, paid $40.00 per month and board
for trappers to trap coyotes, and the trappers were allowed to keep
the furs they caught. Some of them made very large wages."
It is said that when hunting rabbits, two coyotes will join forces
and in this way one animal will drive the game to within reach of the
other, thus avoiding the fatigue caused by running down game.
Naturalists also claim that the adult animals will sometimes drive
the game close to the den, so that the young coyotes may have the
opportunity of killing it. They frequently pick up scraps about the
camps, and if undisturbed, will in a short time, lose much of their
timidity. Old camping places are always inspected in the hopes of
finding some morsel of food, and one can always find coyote tracks in
the ashes of the campfire.
Though the coyote belongs to the flesh-eating class of animals, it is
not strictly carnivorous. In late summer when the wild rose tips are
red and sweet and berries are plentiful, its flesh eating
propensities forsake it in part and it adds fruit to its "bill of
fare". Whether this is caused by hunger or a change of appetite, or
whether the fruit acts as a tonic and the animal, instinctively,
realizes that it must tone up its system in preparation for the long
winter, is not known.
[Illustration: A Trapped Coyote.]
Coyotes have a more regular breeding season than the timber wolves,
for practically all of the young make their appearance in the months
of April and May. The number of young varies from five to twelve. The
young animals are of a yellowish grey color with brown ears and black
tail, muzzle tawny or yellowish brown. As they become older they take
on a lighter shade and the tail changes to greyish with a black tip.
Both wolves and coyotes pair for the breeding season and the males
stay with the females during the summer and help take care of the
young. It is probable that they do not breed until two years of age.
As soon as the young are strong enough, and their eyes are open they
commence to play about the mouth of the den and later on the mother
leads them to the nearest water and finally allows them to accompany
her on hunting excursions. In late summer they start out to shift for
themselves.
As before mentioned, the coyote is a wary and cunning animal,
especially in the more settled portions of its range; where man is
not too much in evidence, they are far less wary. Again the fact that
there are several varieties may account for the difference in the
nature of the animals of the various sections, anyway those of the
southern part of the range are less wary than those of the North. The
trappers of Texas, Arizona and New Mexico claim that the coyote is a
fool and is easily caught while those of the North and Northwest find
them exceedingly cunning and intelligent. Not only does the animal
appear to know when you are armed but it also seems to know something
of the range of the weapon and will sneak along provokingly close,
but just out of reach. When one is unarmed they appear to be more
bold and will loaf around in the most unconcerned manner imaginable.
In intelligence and cunning, we consider the northern coyote the
equal of the eastern red fox. While the western trappers make very
large catches of coyotes, we believe that if foxes were found in
equal numbers the catches of those animals would be fully as large.
The number of coyotes found in some parts of the West is almost
incredible, and in most parts one will find a hundred coyotes to one
grey wolf.
[Illustration: Track of the Coyote.]
The coyote makes a track similar to that of the timber wolf, but
considerably smaller. The length of step, when walking, is about
sixteen inches and the footprints will measure about two or two and a
fourth inches in length by one and a half in width.
CHAPTER III.
KILLING OF STOCK AND GAME BY WOLVES.
Undoubtedly the wolves and coyotes of the United States and Canada
destroy more stock and game than all other predatory animals
combined. In the Western part of our country where stock raising is
one of the principal industries, the ranchmen suffer great losses
from the depredation of these animals, and in other sections the
wolves destroy large quantities of game. The reason that wolves are
more destructive than others of the carnivora is that when they have
the opportunity, they kill far more than they can consume for food.
Often they only tear a mouthful of flesh from the body of their
victim; sometimes they do not even kill the animal but leave it to
suffer a slow and painful death. The animals that are only slightly
bitten are sure to die from blood poisoning, according to the western
ranchmen.
[Illustration: Wolves Killing a Deer.]
The wolf's method of attack is from the rear, springing on its victim
and hamstringing it and literally eating it alive. The bite of the
wolf is a succession of quick, savage snaps and there is no salvation
for the creature that has no means of defense from a rear attack.
This peculiar method of killing prey can not be practiced
successfully on horses, owing to the fact that they can defend
themselves by kicking, but for all of that, a considerable number of
colts and | 2,273.139919 |
2023-11-16 18:54:57.1637130 | 7,426 | 9 |
Produced by Douglas B. Killings, and David Reid, and John Servilio
THE SAGA OF GRETTIR THE STRONG
GRETTIR'S SAGA
By Unknown Author
Written in Icelandic, sometime in the early 14th Century.
CHAPTER I. THE FAMILY AND EARLY WARS OF ONUND THE SON OF OFEIG
There was a man named Onund, the son of Ofeig Clumsyfoot, who was the
son of Ivar Horsetail. Onund was the brother of Gudbjorg, the mother of
Gudbrand Knob, the father of Asta, the mother of King Olaf the Saint.
His mother came from the Upplands, while his father's relations were
mostly in Rogaland and Hordland. He was a great viking and used to harry
away in the West over the sea. He was accompanied on these expeditions
by one Balki, the son of Blaeing from Sotanes, and by Orm the Wealthy.
Another comrade of theirs was named Hallvard. They had five ships, all
well equipped. They plundered the Hebrides, reaching the Barra Isles,
where there ruled a king named Kjarval, who also had five ships. These
they attacked; there was a fierce battle between them, in which Onund's
men fought with the utmost bravery. After many had fallen on both sides,
the battle ended with the king taking to flight with a single ship; the
rest were captured by Onund's force, along with much booty. They stayed
there for the winter, and spent the succeeding three summers harrying
the coasts of Ireland and Scotland, after which they returned to Norway.
CHAPTER II. THE BATTLE OF HAFRSFJORD
At that time Norway was very disturbed. Harald Shockhead, the son of
Halfdan the Black, till then king of the Upplands, was aiming at the
supreme kingship. He went into the North and fought many battles there,
in which he was always victorious. Then he marched harrying through
the territories to the South, bringing them into subjection wherever he
came. On reaching Hordland he was opposed by a motley multitude led by
Kjotvi the Wealthy, Thorir Long-chin, and Soti and King Sulki from South
Rogaland. Geirmund Swarthyskin was then away in the West, beyond the
sea, so he was not present at the battle, although Hordland belonged to
his dominion.
Onund and his party had arrived that autumn from the western seas, and
when Thorir and Kjotvi heard of their landing they sent envoys to ask
for their aid, promising to treat them with honour.
They were very anxious for an opportunity of distinguishing themselves,
so they joined Thorir's forces, and declared that they would be in the
thickest part of the battle. They met King Harald in a fjord in Rogaland
called Hafrsfjord. The forces on each side were very large, and the
battle was one of the greatest ever fought in Norway. There are many
accounts of it, for one always hears much about those people of whom the
saga is told. Troops had come in from all the country around and from
other countries as well, besides a multitude of vikings. Onund brought
his ship alongside of that of Thorir Long-chin in the very middle of the
battle. King Harald made for Thorir's ship, knowing him to be a terrible
berserk, and very brave. The fighting was desperate on either side. Then
the king ordered his berserks, the men called Wolfskins, forward. No
iron could hurt them, and when they charged nothing could withstand
them. Thorir defended himself bravely and fell on his ship fighting
valiantly. The whole ship from stem to stern was cleared and her
fastenings were cut, so that she fell out of the line of battle. Then
they attacked Onund's ship, in the forepart of which he was standing and
fighting manfully. The king's men said: "He bears himself well in the
forecastle. Let us give him something to remind him of having been in
the battle." Onund was stepping out with one foot on to the bulwark, and
as he was striking they made a thrust at him with a spear; in parrying
it he bent backwards, and at that moment a man on the forecastle of the
king's ship struck him and took off his leg below the knee, disabling
him at a blow. With him fell the greater number of his men. They carried
him to a ship belonging to a man named Thrand, a son of Bjorn and
brother of Eyvind the Easterner. He was fighting against King Harald,
and his ship was lying on the other side of Onund's. Then there was a
general flight. Thrand and the rest of the vikings escaped any way they
could, and sailed away westwards. They took with them Onund and Balki
and Hallvard Sugandi. Onund recovered and went about for the rest of his
life with a wooden leg, wherefore he was called Onund Treefoot as long
as he lived.
CHAPTER III. MEETING OF DEFEATED CHIEFS IN THE WEST AND MARRIAGE OF
ONUND
There were then in the western parts many distinguished men who had fled
from their homes in Norway before King Harald, for he declared all who
fought against him outlaws, and seized their property. As soon as Onund
had recovered from his wound, Thrand went with his party to Geirmund
Swarthyskin, who was the most eminent of the vikings in the West. They
asked him whether he was not going to try and regain his kingdom in
Hordland, and offered to join him, hoping by this means to do something
for their own properties, for Onund was very wealthy and his kindred
very powerful. Geirmund answered that Harald had such a force that there
was little hope of gaining any honour by fighting when the whole country
had joined against him and been beaten. He had no mind, he said,
to become the king's thrall, and to beg for that which he had once
possessed in his own right. Seeing that he was no longer in the vigour
of his youth he preferred to find some other occupation. So Onund and
his party returned to the Southern Islands, where they met many of their
friends.
There was a man named Ofeig, nicknamed Grettir. He was the son of Einar,
the son of Olvir the Babyman. He was a brother of Oleif the Broad, the
father of Thormod Shaft. Another son of Olvir was named Steinolf, the
father of Una, whom Thorbjorn the Salmon-man married. A third son of
Olvir was Steinmod, who was the father of Konal, the father of Alfdis
of the Barra Isles. Konal's son was named Steimnod; he was the father of
Halldora, whom Eilif, the son of Ketil the One-handed, married.
Ofeig Grettir married Asny, the daughter of Vestar, the son of Haeing.
His sons were Asmund the Beardless and Asbjorn, and his daughters were
named Aldis, Aesa, and Asvor. Ofeig had fled from the wrath of King
Harald into the West over the sea, along with his kinsman Thormod Shaft
and all their families. They ravaged far and wide in the western seas.
Thrand and Onund Treefoot were going West to Ireland to join Thrand's
brother, Eyvind the Easterner, who had command of the Irish defences.
Eyvind's mother was named Hlif; she was the daughter of Hrolf, the son
of Ingjald, the son of King Frodi, while Thrand's mother was Helga, the
daughter of Ondott Crow. The father of Eyvind and Thrand was Bjorn, the
son of Hrolf of Ar. He had had to leave Gautland because he had burnt
in his house Sigfast the father-in-law of King Solvi. Then he went to
Norway and spent the winter with Grim the Hersir, a son of Kolbjorn
the Sneak, who wanted to murder him for his money. Thence Bjorn went
to Ondott Crow, who lived in Hvinisfjord in Agdir. There he was well
received, stayed the winter, and went campaigning with Ondott in the
summer until his wife Hlif died. Eventually Ondott gave Bjorn his
daughter Helga, and Bjorn then no longer went out to fight. Eyvind had
taken over his father's ships and become a great chief in the western
parts. He married Rafarta, the daughter of the Irish king Kjarval. Their
sons were Helgi the Lean and Snaebjorn.
When Thrand and Onund came to the Southern Islands they found there
Ofeig Grettir and Thormod Shaft, with whom they became very friendly,
for each thought the others had risen from the dead, their last meeting
having been in Norway when the war was at its worst. Onund was very
silent, and Thrand, when he noticed it, asked what was on his mind.
Onund answered with a verse:
"No joy is mine since in battle I fought.
Many the sorrows that o'er me lower.
Men hold me for nought; this thought is the worst
of all that oppresses my sorrowing heart."
Thrand said: "Why, you still seem as full of vigour as ever you were.
You may yet settle down and marry. You shall have my good word and my
interest if you will only tell me whom you fancy."
Onund said he behaved nobly; but said there had once been a time when
his chances of making a profitable marriage had been better.
Thrand said: "Ofeig has a daughter named Aesa; we might mention it if
you like."
Onund said he would like it, and soon afterwards Ofeig was approached on
the subject. He received the proposal favourably, saying he knew the
man to be of good lineage and to have some wealth in movable property,
though his lands were not worth much. "But," he said, "I do not think he
is very wise. Why, my daughter is quite a child."
Thrand said that Onund was more vigorous than many a man whose legs were
sounder.
So with the aid of Thrand the terms were settled. Ofeig was to give his
daughter a portion in cash, for neither would reckon anything for his
lands in Norway. Soon afterwards Thrand was betrothed to the daughter of
Thormod Shaft. Both the maids were to remain plighted for three years.
Then they went on fighting expeditions in the summer, remaining in the
Barra Isles during the winter.
CHAPTER IV. FIGHT WITH VIKINGS VIGBJOD AND VESTMAR
There were two Vikings from the Southern Isles, named Vigbjod and
Vestmar; they were abroad both summer and winter. They had eight ships,
and harried mostly round the coast of Ireland, where they did many an
evil deed until Eyvind undertook the defence of the coast, when they
retired to the Hebrides to harry there, and right in to the Scotch
firths. Thrand and Onund went out against them and learned that they had
sailed to an island called Bot. Onund and Thrand followed them thither
with five ships, and when the vikings sighted them and saw how many
there were, they thought their own force was sufficient, so they took to
their arms and advanced to the attack. Onund ordered his ships to
take up a position between two rocks where there was a deep but narrow
channel, open to attack from one side only, and by not more than five
ships at once. Onund was a very wily man. He sent his five ships forward
into the channel so that, as there was plenty of sea room behind them,
they could easily retire by merely backing their oars. One ship he
brought under an island lying on their beam, and carried a great stone
to a place on the front of the rock where it could not be seen from the
enemy's ships. The Vikings came boldly on, thinking they had caught them
in a trap. Vigbjod asked who they were that he had hemmed in. Thrand
answered that he was a brother of Eyvind the Easterner, and the man with
him was his comrade, Onund Treefoot. The vikings laughed and said:
"Trolls take the rascal Treefoot
and lay him even with the ground.
Never yet did I see men go to battle who could not carry themselves."
Onund said that could not be known until it was tried. Then the ships
came together. There was a great battle in which both sides fought
bravely. When the battle was thick Onund ordered his ships to back their
oars. The vikings seeing it thought they were taking to flight, and
pushed on with all their might, coming under the rock just at the moment
when the party which had been dispatched for that purpose arrived. They
launched upon the vikings stones so huge that nothing could hold against
them. A number of the vikings were killed, and others were so injured
that they could fight no more. Then the vikings tried to escape, but
could not, as their ships were in the narrowest part of the channel and
were impeded both by the current and by the enemy's ships. Onund's men
vigorously attacked the wing commanded by Vigbjod while Thrand engaged
Vestmar, but effected little. When the men on Vigbjod's ship had been
somewhat reduced, Onund's men, he himself with them, prepared to board
her. On seeing that, Vigbjod spurred on his men resolutely. He turned
against Onund, most of whose men gave way. Onund was a man of immense
strength and he bade his followers observe how it fared with them. They
shoved a log under the stump of his leg, so that he stood pretty firm.
The viking dashed forward, reached Onund and hewed at him with his
sword, which cut right through his shield and into the log beneath his
leg, where it remained fixed. As Vigbjod bent down to pull his sword
clear again, Onund dealt him a blow on his shoulder, severing his arm
and disabling him. When Vestmar saw his comrade fall, he sprang on to
the outermost ship and escaped along with all who could get on to her.
Then they examined the dead. Vigbjod had already expired. Onund went up
to him and said:
"Bloody thy wounds. Didst thou see me flee?
'One-leg' no hurt received from thee.
Braver are many in word than in deed.
Thou, slave, didst fail when it came to the trial."
They took a large quantity of booty and returned to the Barra Isles in
the autumn.
CHAPTER V. VISIT OF ONUND AND THRAND TO EYVIND IN IRELAND
The following summer they made ready for a voyage to the West, to
Ireland. At the same time Balki and Hallvard sailed westwards,
to Iceland, where they had heard that good land was available for
occupation. Balki took up some land at Hrutafjord, and had his abode in
two places called Balkastad. Hallvard occupied Sugandafjord and Skalavik
as far as Stigi, where he lived.
Thrand and Onund went to visit Eyvind the Easterner, who welcomed
joyfully his brother Thrand; but when he heard that Onund had also come,
he became very angry and wanted to fight him. Thrand asked him not to
do so, and said it would ill become him to quarrel with men from Norway,
especially with such as had given no offence. Eyvind said that he had
given offence before, when he made war on Kjarval the king, and that he
should now pay for it. The brothers had much to say to each other about
the matter, till at last Thrand said that he and Onund should share
their fortune together. Then Eyvind allowed himself to be appeased.
They stayed there a long time in the summer and went with Eyvind on his
expeditions. Eyvind found Onund to be a man of the greatest valour. In
the autumn they went to the Hebrides, and Eyvind made over to Thrand all
his share in their father Bjorn's patrimony in the event of Bjorn dying
before Thrand. They stayed in the Hebrides until they married and some
years after.
CHAPTER VI. DEATH OF BJORN; DISPUTES OVER HIS PROPERTY IN NORWAY
The next thing that happened was the death of Thrand's father Bjorn.
When the news of it reached Grim the Hersir he proceeded against Ondott
Crow and claimed Bjorn's estate. Ondott held Thrand to be the rightful
heir of his father, but Grim contended that Thrand was away in the West.
Bjorn, he said, came from Gautland, and the succession to the estate of
all foreigners passed to the king. Ondott said that he would hold the
property on behalf of Thrand, who was his daughter's son. Grim then
departed, having effected nothing by his claim.
Thrand, when he heard of his father's death, prepared to leave the
Hebrides, and Onund Treefoot decided to go with him. Ofeig Grettir and
Thormod Shaft went to Iceland with all their belongings, landing at
Eyrar in the South. They spent the first winter with Thorbjorn the
Salmon-man, and then occupied Gnupverjahrepp. Ofeig took the outer part
lying between the rivers Thvera and Kalfa, and lived at Ofeigsstad near
Steinsholt, while Thormod took the eastern part, living at Skaptaholt.
Thormod's daughters were named Thorvor and Thorve; the former afterwards
became the mother of Thorodd the Godi at Hjalli, Thorve of Thorstein the
Godi the father of Bjarni the Wise.
We now return to Thrand and Onund, who sailed back from the West to
Norway. A strong wind blew in their favour, so that they arrived at the
house of Ondott Crow before any one knew of their journey. He welcomed
Thrand and told him of the claim which Grim the Hersir had raised for
Bjorn's estate.
"To my thinking, kinsman," he said, "it is better that the property
should go to you than to the king's thralls. It is a fortunate thing for
you that no one knows of your having come here, for I expect that Grim
will make an attack upon one or the other of us if he can. I should
prefer if you would take over your property and stay in other
countries."
Thrand said that he would do so. He took over the property and prepared
to leave Norway. Before leaving he asked Onund Treefoot whether he would
not come to Iceland. Onund said he wanted first to visit some of his
relations and friends in the South.
"Then," said Thrand, "we must part. I should be glad if you would give
my kinsmen your support, for our enemies will certainly try to take
revenge upon them when I am gone. I am going to Iceland, and I want you
to come there too."
Onund said he would come, and they parted with great friendship. Thrand
went to Iceland, where he met with a welcome from Ofeig and Thormod
Shaft. He took up his dwelling at Thrandarholt to the west of Thjorsa.
CHAPTER VII. MURDER OF ONDOTT CROW, AND THE VENGEANCE THEREFOR
Onund went to Rogaland in the South and visited many of his relations
and friends. He lived there in concealment with a man named Kolbeinn. He
there learned that King Harald had taken all his property and given it
into the charge of a man named Harekr, one of his officials. Onund
went by night to Harekr's house and caught him at home; he was led to
execution. Then Onund took possession of all the loose property which he
found and burnt the building.
That autumn Grim the Hersir murdered Ondott Crow because he had not
succeeded in getting the property for the king. Ondott's wife Signy
carried off all their loose property that same night to a ship and
escaped with her sons Asmund and Asgrim to her father Sighvat. A little
later she sent her sons to Hedin, her foster-father in Soknadal, where
they remained for a time and then wanted to return to their mother. They
left at last, and at Yule-tide came to Ingjald the Trusty at Hvin.
His wife Gyda persuaded him to take them in, and they spent the winter
there. In the spring Onund came to northern Agdir, having learned of the
murder of Ondott. He met Signy and asked her what assistance they would
have of him. She said they were most anxious to punish Grim for the
death of Ondott. So the sons were sent for, and when they met Onund
Treefoot they all joined together and had Grim's doings closely watched.
In the summer there was a beer-brewing at Grim's for a jarl named Audun,
whom he had invited. When Onund and the sons of Ondott heard of it, they
appeared at his house unexpectedly and set fire to it. Grim the Hersir
and about thirty men were burnt in the house. They captured a quantity
of valuables. Then Onund went into the forest, while the two brothers
took the boat of their foster-father Ingjald, rowed away and lay in
hiding a little way off. Soon jarl Audun appeared, on his way to the
feast, as had been arranged, but on arriving he missed his host. So
he collected his men around him and stayed there a few nights, quite
unaware of Onund and his companions. He slept in a loft with two other
men. Onund knew everything that was going on in the house and sent for
the two brothers to come to him. On their arrival he asked them whether
they preferred to keep watch on the house or to attack the jarl. They
chose to attack. They then battered the entrance of the loft with beams
until the door gave way. Asmund seized the two men who were with the
jarl and threw them to the ground with such violence that they were
well-nigh killed.
Asgrim rushed at the jarl and demanded of him weregild for his father,
for he had been in league with Grim and took part in the attack when
Ondott was murdered. The jarl said he had no money about him and asked
for time. Asgrim then placed the point of his spear against his breast
and ordered him to pay up on the spot. Then the jarl took a necklace
from his neck and gave it to him with three gold rings and a velvet
mantle. Asgrim took the things and bestowed a name upon the jarl. He
called him Audun Nannygoat.
When the farmers and people about heard of the disturbances they all
came out to help the jarl. Onund had a large force with him, and there
was a great battle in which many a good farmer and many a follower of
the jarl were slain. The brothers returned to Onund and reported what
had occurred with the jarl. Onund said it was a pity they had not killed
him. It would, he said, have been something to make up for the losses
which he had suffered from King Harald. They said the disgrace was far
worse for the jarl as it was, and they went off to Surnadal to Eirik
Beery, a Landman there, who took them all in for the winter. At
Yule-tide they had a great drinking bout with a man named Hallsteinn,
nicknamed Stallion. Eirik opened the feast and entertained them
generously. Then it was Hallsteinn's turn, and they began to quarrel.
Hallsteinn struck Eirik with a deer's horn, for which Eirik got no
revenge, but had to go home with it, to the great annoyance of Ondott's
sons. A little later Asgrim went to Hallsteinn's house and gave him a
severe wound. All the people who were present started up and attacked
Asgrim. He defended himself vigorously and escaped in the dark, leaving
them under the belief that they had killed him. Onund and Asmund, on
hearing that Asgrim had been killed, were at a loss what they could do
in the matter. Eirik's advice was that they should betake themselves to
Iceland, for it would never do for them to remain in the land where the
king could get at them. This they determined to do. Each of them had his
own ship and they made ready for the voyage to Iceland. Hallsteinn was
laid low with his wound and died before Onund sailed with his party.
Kolbeinn, the man who was mentioned before, went in the ship with Onund.
CHAPTER VIII. ONUND AND ASMUND SAIL TO ICELAND
Onund and Asmund set sail directly when they were ready and their ships
kept together. Onund said:
"Hallvard and I were aforetime deemed
worthy in storm of swords to bear us.
With one foot now I step on the ship
towards Iceland. The poet's day is o'er."
They had a rough passage with cross winds, mostly from the south, so
that they drifted away to the north. They made Iceland right in the
North, at Langanes, where they regained their reckonings. The ships were
near enough to each other for them to speak together. Asmund said they
had better make for Eyjafjord, and this was agreed to. They kept under
the land and heavy weather set in from the south-east. Just as Onund
was tacking, the yard was carried away; they lowered the sail and were
driven out to sea. Asmund got under the lee of Hrisey, where he waited
until a fair wind set in which took him up to Eyjafjord. Helgi the Lean
gave him the whole of Kraeklingahlid, and he lived at South-Glera. A few
years later his brother Asgrim came to Iceland and took up his residence
at North-Glera. His son was Ellidagrim the father of Asgrim.
CHAPTER IX. ONUND SETTLES IN KALDBAK
Onund Treefoot was driven away from the shore for several days, after
which the wind shifted and blew towards the land. Then they made land
again, which those of them who had been there before recognised as the
western coast of the Skagi peninsula. They sailed in to Strandafloi,
almost to Sudrstrandir. There came rowing towards them a ten-oared boat
with six men on board, who hailed the sea-going ship and asked who was
their captain. Onund told them his name and asked whence they came.
They said they were the men of Thorvald from Drangar. Then Onund asked
whether all the land round that coast was occupied; they answered there
was very little left at Sudrstrandir and none at all in the North. So
Onund asked his men whether they would seek some land further to the
West or take that of which they had just been told. They said they would
first explore a little further. They sailed in along the coast of the
bay and anchored off a creek near Arnes, where they put off in a boat to
the shore.
Here dwelt a wealthy man named Eirik Snare, who had taken the land
between Ingolfsfjord and Ofaera in Veidileysa. On hearing that Onund had
arrived in those parts, he offered to let him have such portion as he
needed from his own lands, adding that there was little land which had
not already been taken up. Onund said he would first like to see what
there was.
Then they went further into the bay past some fjords and came to Ofaera,
where Eirik said: "Here is what there is to see. From here down to the
lands of Bjorn is unoccupied." A high range of mountains, on which snow
had fallen, rose from beside the river. Onund looked at the mountains
and spoke a verse:
"My lands and my might have drifted away
as drifts the ship on the ocean.
My friends and my home I have left behind me,
and bartered my acres for Kaldbak."
"Many a man," answered Eirik, "has lost so much in Norway that it
may not be mended. I expect too that nearly all the lands in the main
districts have been taken, so that I will not urge you to leave these
parts and seek elsewhere. I will keep to my word and let you have
whatever lands of my own you may require."
Onund said he would take advantage of his offer, and in the end he took
some of the Ofaera land and the three creeks Byrgisvik, Kolbeinsvik,
and Kaldbaksvik as far as Kaldbak's Cliff. Afterwards Eirik gave him
Veidileysa with Reykjarfjord and the outer part of Reykjanes on that
side. Nothing was settled about the drift which came to the coast,
because there was so much of it that every one could have what he
wanted. Onund made his home in Kaldbak and had a large household. His
property increased and he had another house in Reykjarfjord. Kolbeinn
lived in Kolbeinsvik and for some years Onund lived quietly at home.
CHAPTER X. OFEIG GRETTIR IS KILLED. VISIT OF ONUND TO AUD THE
DEEP-MINDED
Onund was a man of such valour that few, even of those whose limbs were
sound, could measure themselves against him. His name, too, was renowned
throughout the whole country on account of his ancestry. It happened
that a dispute arose between Ofeig Grettir and one Thorbjorn called
Jarlakappi, which ended in Ofeig being killed by Thorbjorn in
Grettisgeil near Haell. The feud was taken up by Ofeig's sons who
assembled a large force of men. Onund Treefoot was sent for, and in the
spring he rode South to Hvamm, where he stayed with Aud the Deep-Minded.
He had been with her over the sea in the West, and she received him with
welcome. Her grandson, Olaf Feilan, was then grown up, and Aud was very
infirm. She consulted Onund concerning her kinsman Olaf, for whom she
wished to ask in marriage Alfdis of the Barra Isles, the cousin of
Onund's wife Aesa. Onund thought it a very suitable match, and Olaf rode
with him to the South. Then Onund met friends and kinsmen, who made him
their guest. The matter of the dispute was talked over between them, and
finally laid before the Kjalarnes Thing, for the All-Thing had not yet
been established. Eventually it was settled by arbitration and heavy
weregilds were imposed for the murder. Thorbjorn Jarlakappi was exiled.
His son was Solmund, the father of Svidukari. These kinsmen were long
abroad after that. Thrand invited Onund and Olaf with his party to stay
with him, as did Thormod Shaft. The matter of Olaf's marriage was
then pressed, and an agreement easily arrived at, for Aud's rank and
influence were well known to them. The settlement was arranged and
Onund's party rode home again. Aud thanked him for his aid in behalf of
Olaf, who married Alfdis of the Barra Isles that autumn. Then Aud the
Deep-Minded died, as is told in the Laxdaela Saga.
CHAPTER XI. DEATH OF ONUND. DISPUTES BETWEEN THE SONS OF ONUND AND OF
EIRIK
Onund and Aesa had two sons; the elder was named Thorgeir, the younger
Ofeig Grettir. Soon afterwards Aesa died and Onund married a second
wife, Thordis Thorgrim's daughter of Gnup in Midfjord, a kinsman of
Skeggi of Midfjord. By her Onund had a son named Thorgrim, who grew
up quickly to manhood, tall and strong, wise and a good manager. Onund
continued to live at Kaldbak until his old age. He died a natural
death and lies in Treefoot's howe. He was the boldest and most active
one-legged man that ever came to Iceland.
Among Onund's sons Thorgrim was the foremost, although the others were
older. When he was twenty-five years old his hair was grey, whence they
nick-named him Greyhead. His mother Thordis married again, taking as her
second husband Audun Skokull. They had a son named Asgeir of Asgeirsa.
Thorgrim Greyhead and his brothers had a large property, which they
managed together without dividing it up.
Eirik lived, as was mentioned, at Arnes. He had married Alof, the
daughter of Ingolf of Ingolfsfjord, by whom | 2,273.183753 |
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Transcriber’s note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).
A carat character is used to denote superscription. A
single character following the carat is superscripted
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Spanish Explorations and Settlements in America
from the Fifteenth to the Seventeenth Century
[Illustration]
NARRATIVE AND CRITICAL HISTORY OF AMERICA
Edited by
JUSTIN WINSOR
Librarian of Harvard University
Corresponding Secretary Massachusetts Historical Society
VOL. II
Boston and New York
Houghton, Mifflin and Company
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
Copyright, 1886,
by Houghton, Mifflin and Company.
All rights reserved.
CONTENTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
[_The Spanish arms on the title are copied from the titlepage of
Herrera._]
INTRODUCTION. PAGE
DOCUMENTARY SOURCES OF EARLY SPANISH-AMERICAN HISTORY. _The
Editor_ i
CHAPTER I.
COLUMBUS AND HIS DISCOVERIES. _The Editor_ 1
ILLUSTRATIONS: Columbus’ Armor, 4; Parting of Columbus with
Ferdinand and Isabella, 6; Early Vessels, 7; Building a Ship,
8; Course of Columbus on his First Voyage, 9; Ship of Columbus’
Time, 10; Native House in Hispaniola, 11; Curing the Sick,
11; The Triumph of Columbus, 12; Columbus at Hispaniola, 13;
Handwriting | 2,273.311713 |
2023-11-16 18:54:57.4621740 | 1,114 | 7 |
Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from scanned images of public domain material
from the Google Print project.)
[Illustration: Photo of Julia Ward Howe
Signed,
Yours very cordially,
Julia Ward Howe.]
Is Polite Society Polite?
And Other Essays
BY
[Illustration: colophon]
MRS. JULIA WARD HOWE
BOSTON & NEW YORK
Lamson, Wolffe, & Company
1895
Copyright, 1895, By Lamson, Wolffe, & Co.
All rights reserved
Preface
I REMEMBER that, quite late in the fifties, I mentioned to Theodore
Parker the desire which I began to feel to give living expression to my
thoughts, and to lend to my written words the interpretation of my
voice.
Parker, who had taken a friendly interest in the publication of my first
volumes, "Passion Flowers" and "Words for the Hour," gave his approval
also to this new project of mine. "The great desire of the age," he
said, "is for vocal expression. People are scarcely satisfied with the
printed page alone: they crave for their instruction the living voice
and the living presence."
At the time of which I write, no names of women were found in the lists
of lecture courses. Lucy Stone had graduated from Oberlin, and was
beginning to be known as an advocate of temperance, and as an
antislavery speaker. Lucretia Mott had carried her eloquent pleading
outside the limits of her Quaker belonging. Antoinette Brown Blackwell
occupied the pulpit of a Congregational church, while Abby Kelly Foster
and the Grimke Sisters stood forth as strenuous pleaders for the
abolition of slavery. Of these ladies I knew little at the time of which
I speak, and my studies and endeavors occupied a field remote from that
in which they fought the good fight of faith. My thoughts ran upon the
importance of a helpful philosophy of life, and my heart's desire was to
assist the efforts of those who sought for this philosophy.
Gradually these wishes took shape in some essays, which I read to
companies of invited friends. Somewhat later, I entered the lecture
field, and journeyed hither and yon, as I was invited.
The papers collected in the present volume have been heard in many parts
of our vast country. As is evident, they have been written for popular
audiences, with a sense of the limitations which such audiences
necessarily impose. With the burthen of increasing years, the freedom of
locomotion naturally tends to diminish, and I must be thankful to be
read where I have in other days been heard. I shall be glad indeed if it
may be granted to these pages to carry the message which I myself have
been glad to bear,--the message of the good hope of humanity, despite
the faults and limitations of individuals.
That hope casts its light over the efforts of years that are past, and
gilds for me, with ineffaceable glow, the future of our race.
The lecture, "Is Polite Society Polite?" was written for a course of
lectures given some years ago by the New England Women's Club of Boston.
"Greece Revisited" was first read before the Town and Country Club of
Newport, R.I. "Aristophanes" and "Dante and Beatrice" were written for
the Summer School of Philosophy at Concord, Mass. "The Halfness of
Nature" was first read before the Boston Radical Club. "The Salon in
America" was written for the Contemporary Club in Philadelphia.
Contents
Preface
Is Polite Society Polite Page 3
Paris 37
Greece Revisited 77
The Salon in America 113
Aristophanes 133
The Halfness of Nature 161
Dante and Beatrice 181
Is Polite Society Polite?
WHY do we ask this question? For reasons which I shall endeavor to make
evident.
The life in great cities awakens a multitude of ambitions. Some people
are very unscrupulous in following these ambitions, attaining their
object either by open force and pushing, or by artful and cunning
manoeuvres. And so it will happen that in the society which considers
itself entitled to rank above all other circles one may meet with people
whose behavior is guided by no sincere and sufficient rule of conduct.
Observing their shortcomings, we may stand still and ask, Are these
people what they should be? Is polite society polite?
For this society, which is supposed to be nothing if not polite, does
assume, in every place, to set up the standard of taste and to regulate
the tone of manners. It aims to be what Hamlet once was in Ophelia's
eyes--"the glass of fashion and the mould of form." Its forms and
fashions change, of course, from age to age, and yet it is a steadfast
institution in the development of human civilization.
I should be sorry to overstate its shortcomings, but | 2,273.482214 |
2023-11-16 18:54:57.5618110 | 1,974 | 11 |
Produced by Richard Tonsing, readbueno and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
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by The Internet Archive)
SQUIB AND HIS FRIENDS.
[Illustration:
“_Squib flung himself upon the dog, and threw his arms about his
neck._”
Page 17.
]
SQUIB AND HIS FRIENDS ❧ BY E. EVERETT-GREEN
LONDON, EDINBURGH,
AND NEW YORK
THOMAS NELSON
AND SONS
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS.
I. “THE ODD ONE,” 9
II. GOING AWAY, 28
III. THE CHALET IN THE HILLS, 47
IV. THE LITTLE GOAT-HERD, 65
V. COMRADES, 84
VI. HERR ADLER, 102
VII. HAPPY HOURS, 124
VIII. A WONDERFUL WALK, 148
IX. A STORY AND A FAREWELL, 175
X. A MOUNTAIN STORM, 204
XI. PLANS AND PROJECTS, 221
XII. FAREWELLS, 238
XIII. GOING HOME, 256
XIV. CONCLUSION, 272
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
“SQUIB FLUNG HIMSELF UPON THE DOG, AND THREW HIS ARMS _Frontispiece_.
ABOUT HIS NECK,”
“SQUIB LISTENED WITH A STRANGE SENSE OF FASCINATION,” 68
“BREATHLESSLY ONE BOY WORKED AND THE OTHER WATCHED,” 94
“DOWN, DOWN, DOWN—WITH A CRASH, AND A BANG, AND A 169
ROAR!”
“SEPPI DREW SQUIB’S HAND DOWN UPON THE HEAD OF MOOR,” 254
“SQUIB’S BROTHERS AND SISTERS REJOICED OVER THE PRETTY 283
GIFTS HE HAD BROUGHT THEM,”
SQUIB AND HIS FRIENDS.
CHAPTER I.
“THE ODD ONE.”
That was the name Squib went by in the nursery and in the household—“the
odd one.” Not exactly because of any personal peculiarities—although he
had a few of these—but because he had no especial brother or sister
belonging to him, and seemed to stand alone, whilst all the others could
be paired off together.
Norman and Frank were big boys, away at school most of the year, near to
each other in age, and always together in the holidays. Philippa and
Molly came next, and were girls, devoted to each other and to their
family of dolls, and even more devoted to the live dolls in the
nursery—the little twin sisters, Hilda and Hulda, whom nobody knew apart
save themselves and the nurse. But Squib had no brother or sister to be
bracketed with him. The baby who came next in age to him had died in
infancy, and was only a dim memory to the brother just above him in age.
So he had always been, as it were, “the odd one” of the family, although
his sisters were very fond of him, and never refused him a share in
their games when he wanted to join in them.
But Squib did not care for dolls, and his tastes lay amongst things
beyond the walls of nursery or schoolroom. He wanted always to be out of
doors when not busy with his lessons for Mademoiselle (for so far he had
not gone to school, but had been taught with his sisters in the
schoolroom); and his pursuits were not of a kind to be attractive to the
dainty little ladies, Philippa and Molly, or to find favour in the eyes
of nurse, who reigned supreme over Hilda and Hulda. So Squib got into
the way of amusing himself in his own fashion, and took his name of “the
odd one” with great equanimity.
Squib was not his real name, as I suppose I need hardly say; it was a
nickname given him by his father some years before my story begins, and
it had stuck to him ever since. His real name was Sydenham, and he had
been called Syd for a time, till Colonel Rutland had hit upon this other
appellation.
And the reason for this was a habit of Squib’s which amused his father a
good deal. The child had a way of sitting perfectly still and silent for
a very long time in the room, not speaking, even when spoken to, until
some exhaustive mental process had taken place, after which he would
suddenly “go off,” as his father expressed it, and talk rapidly and
eagerly for several minutes straight on end; then having thus relieved
his mind and delivered himself of his thoughts, he would relapse into
dead silence until ready for the next explosion. And so his father
called him “Squib;” and Squib he became in time to the whole household.
It was commonly whispered about the place that Squib was the Colonel’s
favourite amongst his children. Colonel Rutland was not a man who had
taken a great deal of notice of his sons and daughters as they appeared
upon the scene. He was a busy man, having a large estate to order, being
a magistrate, churchwarden, and guardian of the poor-law, and having
social duties to attend to as well. He was a most devoted husband; and
people used to say that never was there a happier couple than he and
Lady Mary, his beautiful wife. He was proud of his fine young family in
the aggregate, but did not notice the children very much individually,
until one or two small incidents brought Squib before his eyes.
The first of these was a severe altercation which he chanced to overhear
between the child and his nurse when Squib was five years old. He was
walking through the shrubberies one morning when the sound of raised
voices attracted his attention, the first being that of a child lifted
in indignant protest.
“It’s not a lie. I never tell lies! I _did_ hear father sing it his own
self!”
“Master Syd, that’s not true. Your father never would sing such a wicked
song. It only makes it worse, telling stories about it!”
“It isn’t a story!—it isn’t, I tell you! I heard him my own self, and
lots of other people heard him, too. It’s you who are wicked, saying I
tell lies and father sings wicked songs!” and the crunch of the gravel
betrayed the fact that Squib had brought his small foot heavily down
upon it in a stamp of passionate wrath.
Colonel Rutland turned a corner and came full upon the combatants. The
nurse—a most excellent and trustworthy woman, who had been for twelve
years with them—was looking very grieved and disturbed as she held Squib
by the hand, as if with the intention of taking him at once before some
domestic tribunal; whilst the child’s square, determined face was
flushed a deep crimson, his dark-grey eyes looked almost black, as they
had a way of doing in moments of passion and excitement, and his whole
frame was quivering with anger and protest as he reiterated his
assertion that he was speaking nothing but the truth.
“What is all this?” asked Colonel Rutland in a deep voice. “Squib, what
do you mean by resisting your nurse like that? I will have no
insubordination to authority in my house—you know that as well as I do.”
For Colonel Rutland, with his military training, was a martinet in his
house about discipline, and his children knew perfectly that he would be
more severe over an act of disobedience than over any other kind of
transgression.
Squib and the nurse both started at the sound of the Colonel’s voice,
and nurse dropped the hand she was holding and made a respectful
courtesy to her master. Squib stood perfectly silent, after his fashion,
for a full minute, and then burst into rapid speech,—
“I wasn’t resisting her, father. She told me I was telling lies—and I’m
not. You did sing it. I heard you; and it isn’t wicked—and she didn’t
ought to say it was. I don’t tell lies. I never did. It isn’t lies—it’s
only about them!”
The Colonel held up his hand to command silence.
“What does all this mean?” he asked, turning to nurse.
“If you please, sir, I heard Master Syd singing something that didn’t
sound right for a young gentleman, and when I told him I wouldn’t have
wicked words sung, he turned and said that he’d heard you sing them,
which I was quite sure was not true, and I told him so. And then he went
off into | 2,273.581851 |
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Transcriber Note
Obvious typos and punctuation errors corrected.
Inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation retained.
The book catalog at the back uses a Unicode character “Asterism”
(U+2042). If the font in use on the reader’s device does not support
it, this character, ⁂, may not display correctly.
[Publisher Logo] on the title page represents an illustration with the
publisher name.
A short decorative line has been represented in the text as --*--.
Italic text is indicated by underscores surrounding the _italic text_.
Small capitals in the original have been converted to ALL CAPS.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the same Author.
A TREASURY OF THOUGHT. An Encyclopædia of Quotations from Ancient and
Modern Authors. 8vo, full gilt, $4.00.
The most complete and exhaustive volume of the kind with which we are
acquainted. The literature of all times has contributed to it, and the
range of reading necessary to its compilation is the widest.—_Hartford
Courant._
NOTABLE THOUGHTS ABOUT WOMEN. A Literary Mosaic. Crown 8vo, $1.50.
Full of delicious bits from nearly every writer of any celebrity,
English, American, French, or German, early and modern, it is a
fascinating medley. When one takes up the book it is difficult to lay it
down, for one is led on from one brilliant or striking thought to
another, in a way that is quite absorbing.—_Portland Transcript._
PEARLS OF THOUGHT. Choice Sentences from the wisest Authors. 16mo, full
gilt, $1.25.
The first noticeable thing about “Pearls of Thought” is that the
“pearls” are offered in a jewel-box of printing and binding. The
selections have the merit of being short and sparkling. Authors, ancient
and modern, and of all nations, are represented.—_New York Tribune._
DUE WEST; or, Round the World in Ten Months. Crown 8vo, $1.50.
It is a book of books on foreign travel, and deserves to be in the
hands of all subsequent writers as combining just the qualities to give
the greater information and zest.—_Boston Commonwealth._
DUE SOUTH; or, Cuba Past and Present. Crown 8vo, $1.50.
Full of information concerning the Bahama Islands, the Caribbean Sea,
and the island of Cuba. Of the finest and most extensive culture, Mr.
Ballou is the ideal traveler.—_Boston Traveller._
DUE NORTH; or, Glimpses of Scandinavia and Russia. Crown 8vo, $1.50.
The author has the tact to travel without an object; he strolls. He
sees things accidentally; you feel that you might have seen the same
things, under the same circumstances. He never lectures; rarely
theorizes. It is as useful to read him as it is enjoyable to travel with
him.—_Journal of Education._
UNDER THE SOUTHERN CROSS: or, Travels in New Zealand, Australia, and
Tasmania. Crown 8vo, $1.50.
Few persons have traveled so extensively, and no one more profitably
both to himself and the public, than Mr. Ballou.—EDWIN P. WHIPPLE.
EDGE-TOOLS OF SPEECH. Crown 8vo, $3.50.
A remarkable compilation of brilliant and wise sayings from more than
a thousand various sources, embracing all the notable authors, classic
and modern, who have enriched the pages of history and literature. It
might be termed a whole library in one volume.—_Boston Beacon._
GENIUS IN SUNSHINE AND SHADOW. Crown 8vo, $1.50.
Mr. Ballou displays a broad and thorough knowledge of men of genius in
all ages, and the comprehensive index makes the volume invaluable as a
book of reference, while—a rare thing in reference books—it is
thoroughly interesting for consecutive reading.—_The Journalist_ (New
York).
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO., PUBLISHERS,
BOSTON AND NEW YORK.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE NEW ELDORADO
A SUMMER JOURNEY TO ALASKA
BY
MATURIN M. BALLOU
I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cry:
“’Tis all barren!” and so it is, and so is all the world to him
who will not cultivate the fruits it offers.—STERNE.
[Publisher Logo]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1889
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright, 1889,
BY MATURIN M. BALLOU.
_All rights reserved._
_The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A._
Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Company.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PREFACE.
--*--
The Spaniards of old had a proverb signifying that he who would bring
home the wealth of the Indies must carry the wealth of the Indies with
him. If we would benefit by travel we must take with us an ample store
of appreciative intelligence. Nature, like lovely womanhood, only
reveals herself to him who humbly and diligently seeks her. As Sir
Richard Steele said of a certain noble lady: “To love her is a liberal
education.” Keen observation is as necessary to the traveler who would
improve by his vocation as are wings to an albatross. The trained and
appreciative eye is like the object-glass of the photographic machine,
nothing is so seemingly insignificant as to escape it. Careless,
half-educated persons are sent upon their travels in order, it is said,
that they may “learn.” Such individuals had best first learn to travel.
Those who improve the modern facilities for seeing the world acquire an
inexhaustible wealth of information, and a delightful mental resort of
which nothing can deprive them. The power of vision is thus enlarged,
many occurrences which have heretofore proved daily mysteries become
clear, prejudices are annihilated, and the judgment broadened. Above
all, let us first become familiar with the important features of our own
beautiful and widespread land before we seek foreign shores, especially
as we have on this continent so much of unequaled grandeur and unique
phenomena to satisfy and to attract us. It seems to the undersigned that
perhaps this volume will have a tendency to lead the reader to such
conclusion, and certainly this is its primary object.
M. M. B.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS.
--*--
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Itinerary.—St. Paul.—The Northern Pacific Railroad.—
Progress.—Luxurious Traveling.—Riding on a Locomotive.—
Night Experiences.—Prairie Scenes.—Immense Grain-Fields.—
The Badlands.—Climbing the Rocky Mountains.—Cinnabar.—The
Yellowstone Park.—An Accumulation of Wonders.—The Famous
Hot Springs Terrace.—How Formed.—As seen by Moonlight 1
CHAPTER II.
Nature in Poetic Moods.—Is there Lurking Danger?—A
Sanitarium.—The Liberty Cap.—The Giant’s Thumb.—Singular
Caves.—Falls of the Gardiner River.—In the Saddle.—Grand
Cañon of the Yellowstone.—Far-Reaching Antiquity.—Obsidian
Cliffs.—A Road of Glass.—Beaver Lake.—Animal Builders.—
Aborigines of the Park.—The Sheep-Eaters.—The Shoshones
and other Tribes 20
CHAPTER III.
Norris Geyser Basin.—Fire beneath the Surface.—A Guide’s
Ideas.—The Curious Paint Pot Basin.—Lower Geyser Basin.—
Boiling Springs of Many Colors.—Mountain Lions at Play.—
Midway Geyser Basin.—“Hell’s Half Acre.”—In the Midst of
Wonderland.—“Old Faithful.”—Other Active Geysers.—Erratic
Nature of these Remarkable Fountains 34
CHAPTER IV.
The Great Yellowstone Lake.—Myriads of Birds.—Solitary
Beauty of the Lake.—The Flora of the Park.—Devastating
Fires.—Wild Animals.—Grand Volcanic Centre.—Mountain
Climbing and Wonderful Views.—A Story of Discovery.—
Government Exploration of the Reservation.—Governor
Washburn’s Expedition.—“For the Benefit of the People at
Large Forever” 47
CHAPTER V.
Westward Journey resumed.—Queen City of the Mountains.—
Crossing the Rockies.—Butte City, the Great Mining
Centre.—Montana.—The Red Men.—About the Aborigines.—The
Cowboys of the West.—A Successful Hunter.—Emigrant Teams
on the Prairies.—Immense Forests.—Puget Sound.—The Famous
Stampede Tunnel.—Immigration 57
CHAPTER VI.
Mount Tacoma.—Terminus of the Northern Pacific Railroad.—
Great Inland Sea.—City of Tacoma and its Marvelous
Growth.—Coal Measures.—The Modoc Indians.—Embarking for
Alaska.—The Rapidly Growing City of Seattle.—Tacoma with
its Fifteen Glaciers.—Something about Port Townsend.—A
Chance for Members of Alpine Clubs 73
CHAPTER VII.
Victoria, Vancouver’s Island.—Es | 2,273.684595 |
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[Illustration: Young Dill had seized Jupe by the back of the neck and
dragged him, half drowned, to the shore.--_Page 98_]
THE BOY INVENTORS’
ELECTRIC
HYDROAEROPLANE
BY
RICHARD BONNER
AUTHOR OF “THE BOY INVENTORS’ WIRELESS TRIUMPH,” “THE BOY
INVENTORS AND THE VANISHING GUN,” “THE BOY INVENTORS’
DIVING TORPEDO BOAT,” “THE BOY INVENTORS’
FLYING SHIP,” ETC., ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY_
_CHARLES L. WRENN_
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1914,
BY
HURST & COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A NEW FRIEND MADE 5
II. AN INVENTION DESCRIBED 15
III. AN IMPORTANT DECISION 23
IV. NED TO THE RESCUE 33
V. THE UNLUCKY STORY 43
VI. HIS ENEMIES ON THE TRAIL 54
VII. NED MAKES AN ENEMY 62
VIII. THE PLANS ACCEPTED 71
IX. THE ARRIVAL OF TROUBLE 82
X. HEINY PUMPERNICK DILL 91
XI. THE CONVERTIBLE SAUSAGE MACHINE 98
XII. HANK AND MILES MEET THEIR MATCH 106
XIII. READY FOR FLIGHT 113
XIV. HEINY OVERHEARS THE PLOT 124
XV. THE BURGLAR TRAP 132
XVI. THE LOST LEVER 150
XVII. OFF AT LAST! 161
XVIII. NED’S TERRIBLE PERIL 169
XIX. THE DISGRUNTLED CRONIES 179
XX. TOM TO THE RESCUE 187
XXI. SALUTING A STEAMER 194
XXII. AN OLD FRIEND 202
XXIII. THE LOST PLANS 211
XXIV. A BAFFLING ROBBERY 220
XXV. OFF TO THE FAIR 227
XXVI. AN UNLUCKY MISHAP 237
XXVII. A DASH FOR LIBERTY 248
XXVIII. A DIRIGIBLE IN DANGER 258
XXIX. A DARING RESCUE 269
XXX. A STRANGE MEETING 277
XXXI. NED COMES INTO HIS OWN 283
The Boy Inventors’ Electric Hydroaeroplane.
CHAPTER I.
A NEW FRIEND MADE.
“Are either Mr. Chadwick or Mr. Jesson about?”
“Humph!” and the gangling, rather disagreeable-looking youth who had
answered the summons to the door of the Boy Inventors’ workshop, gave a
supercilious look over the dusty and worn, although carefully mended,
clothes of the dark-eyed, dark-haired, slender youth who confronted him.
“What do you want to know that for, anyhow?” and upon the personal
pronoun he placed a contemptuous emphasis.
“That is a question to which I can only reply when I can see either
Jack Chadwick or Tom Jesson personally. My name is Ned Nevins,--not
that either of them knows me,--but will you be so kind as to find out
if they’ll see me?”
“If you can’t tell me your business, you can’t see them. State what you
want to me. If it’s money----”
“It is not!”
The dark-eyed young visitor’s eyes held a warning flash which the other
lad, who was half a head taller and far stouter of build than Ned
Nevins, affected not to notice.
“Well, you can’t speak to them.” This with an air of finality.
“But you don’t understand----”
“I do, perfectly. They are both far too busy to bother with any
inquisitive kind of tramp that happens along.”
“Then you won’t let them know I would like to see them?”
The other’s voice rose angrily.
“I said ‘No’ once. N-O-_no_! Isn’t that enough?”
“Quite enough.”
Ned Nevins turned away. As he did so, the other lad, an employee of
the Boy Inventors, and a former school chum, noticed that he had under
his arm a box which he appeared to handle with unusual care. But Sam
Hinkley noted also Ned’s dejected and downcast air. He decided to
humiliate him still further.
“Get a move on--you. Skip!”
Ned hastened his pace. He felt too disappointed and tired to retort
to the bully as he should have done. Sam Hinkley interpreted this
as cowardice on Ned’s part, and being a natural bully he decided to
improve the occasion according to his own delight. He came up behind
Ned and gave the slightly-built lad a strong shove.
Ned faced ’round, and his pale face flushed an angry crimson.
“Don’t do that again, please!”
Young Hinkley’s rejoinder was to make a rush at him. He extended both
his hands to shove the visitor, whom he had found so unwelcome, off the
premises. But the next instant he met with a setback. Still holding his
precious box under one arm, Ned’s fingers closed on the bully’s wrists.
They shut down with a grip like steel handcuffs.
“Ow! Ouch! Leggo my hands,” roared Sam at the top of his voice.
“From what I’ve heard of Jack Chadwick and Tom Jesson I don’t believe
they would tolerate for an instant the way you have behaved toward me,”
was the firm reply. “March!”
“Where are we going?” inquired Sam, writhing painfully under the young
stranger’s powerful grip, unable to do anything, try as he would to
shake it off.
“Straight into that workshop. From what I can hear, I believe we will
find those whom I wish to see inside.”
Sam looked very uncomfortable. He was the son of fairly well-to-do
parents in the little town of Nestorville, on the outskirts of which
Mr. Chadwick’s home was situated. Jack and Tom had taken him on because
he was a youth who had always shown mechanical ability and had pleaded
persistently for a chance to work in the big experimental shop at High
Towers.
But a fair trial of Sam Hinkley had not resulted in his rising in favor
with his young employers. He had been detected in several mean acts.
Besides, they felt he was hardly a lad to be trusted with the important
secrets of the workshop, in which most of the inventions of the boys
and their father and uncle were worked out. So that had Sam but known
it, he was by no means so important a factor at High Towers as he
imagined.
“Lemmo go and I’ll take you in,” howled Sam.
“Very well. You might have done so in the first place.”
But no sooner were Sam’s hands released than he aimed | 2,273.879615 |
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THE NEW DETECTIVE STORY.
THE DIAMOND COTERIE
BY LAWRENCE L. LYNCH
AUTHOR OF "SHADOWED BY THREE" "MADELINE PAYNE," ETC.
CHICAGO:
HENRY A. SUMNER AND COMPANY.
1884.
Copyright, 1882, by
DONNELLEY, LOYD & CO.,
CHICAGO.
Copyright, 1884, by
R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS,
CHICAGO.
R. R. Donnelley & Sons, The Lakeside Press, Chicago.
[Illustration: "Really this is a sad affair."]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. Two Shocks for W----
CHAPTER II. W---- Investigates
CHAPTER III. A Sample of the Lamotte Blood
CHAPTER IV. Sybil's Letter
CHAPTER V. The Deductions of a Detective
CHAPTER VI. Doctor Heath at Home
CHAPTER VII. A Falling Out
CHAPTER VIII. One Detective too Many
CHAPTER IX. The Deductions of Detective Number Two
CHAPTER X. Evan
CHAPTER XI. The End of the Beginning
CHAPTER XII. The Beginning of the End
CHAPTER XIII. Constance's Diplomacy
CHAPTER XIV. John Burrill, Aristocrat
CHAPTER XV. Diamonds
CHAPTER XVI. In Open Mutiny
CHAPTER XVII. The Play Goes On
CHAPTER XVIII. John Burrill, Plebeian
CHAPTER XIX. Nance Burrill's Warning
CHAPTER XX. Constance at Bay
CHAPTER XXI. Appointing a Watch Dog
CHAPTER XXII. The Watch Dog Discharged
CHAPTER XXIII. Father and Son
CHAPTER XXIV. A Day of Gloom
CHAPTER XXV. That Night
CHAPTER XXVI. Prince's Prey
CHAPTER XXVII. A Turn in the Game
CHAPTER XXVIII. Introducing Mr. Smith
CHAPTER XXIX. Openly Accused
CHAPTER XXX. An Obstinate Client
CHAPTER XXXI. Beginning the Investigation
CHAPTER XXXII. An Appeal to the Wardour Honor
CHAPTER XXXIII. "I Can Save Him if I Will"
CHAPTER XXXIV. A Last Resort
CHAPTER XXXV. A Strange Interview
CHAPTER XXXVI. Two Passengers West
CHAPTER XXXVII. Some Excellent Advice
CHAPTER XXXVIII. Belknap Outwitted
CHAPTER XXXIX. "Will Love Outweigh Honor?"
CHAPTER XL. "Too Young to Die"
CHAPTER XLI. Sir Clifford Heathercliffe
CHAPTER XLII. A Tortured Witness
CHAPTER XLIII. Justice, Sacrifice, Death
CHAPTER XLIV. A Spartan Mother
CHAPTER XLV. Told by a Detective
CHAPTER XLVI. The Story of Lucky Jim
CHAPTER XLVII. After the Drama Ended
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
"Really, this is a sad affair."
"I have a clue."
"I am ready to do that at any and all times."
"John Burrill! Why, he is a brute!"
So he dines at Wardour Place
"Who are you?"
"Ah! This phial is one of a set."
"Are we alone?"
The tramp turned and looked back
"Doctor Heath flatters himself."
"Here is this man again."
"Poor Frank! don't let this overcome you so."
"Why, Evan, you look ghostly."
"You must not have a third attack."
"Conny, it has come."
"I am happy to know you."
"I have never once been tempted to self destruction."
Only a moment did Sybil listen
Evan saw Sybil and Frank canter away
"It is not in his power or yours to alter my decision."
"Then take that, and that."
"It's the other one," he muttered
"Stay a moment, sir."
"I'll be hanged if I can understand it."
"I hope you will excuse me."
"Well, Roake, are you ready for business?"
"If you ever see me again, you'll see me sober."
"You promise never to marry Francis LaMotte?"
The cottage stands quite by itself
"Prince, come away, sir!"
"Why, boy, bless me."
"Any of the stiff's friends in this gang?"
"Did you ever see that knife before?"
They find Corliss at the Sheriff's desk
"Softly, sir; reflect a little."
"Sybil Lamotte shall die in her delirium."
"Constance Wardour, you love Clifford Heath."
"Another, Miss Wardour, is--yourself."
"Mr. Belknap, it is I."
"Cap'n, you're a good fellow."
"My friend, come down off that."
"That hope is ended now."
"Prisoner at the Bar, are you guilty or not guilty?"
"It was found close beside the body of John Burrill."
They come slowly forward
"There is a flash--a loud report."
Bathurst telling the story
THE DIAMOND COTERIE.
CHAPTER I.
TWO SHOCKS FOR W----.
On a certain Saturday in June, year of our Lord 1880, between the hours
of sunrise and sunset, the town of W----, in a State which shall be
nameless, received two shocks.
Small affairs, concerning small people, could never have thrown
W---- into such a state of excitement, for she was a large and wealthy
town, and understood what was due to herself.
She possessed many factories, and sometimes a man came to his death
among the ponderous machinery. Not long since one "hand" had stabbed
another, fatally; and, still later, a factory girl had committed
suicide.
These things created a ripple, nothing more. It would ill become a town,
boasting its aristocracy and "style," to grow frenzied over the woes of
such common people. But W---- possessed a goodly number of wealthy
families, and some blue blood. These were worthy of consideration, and
upon these calamity had fallen. Let us read an extract | 2,273.879847 |
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Produced by Charlene Taylor and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic
text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
THE <DW29> BOOKS.
=Each volume 12mo, cloth, $1.50=
Chautauqua Girls at Home.
Christie's Christmas.
Divers Women.
Echoing and Re-Echoing.
Eighty-Seven.
Endless Chain (An).
Ester Ried.
Ester Ried Yet Speaking.
Four Girls at Chautauqua.
From Different Standpoints.
Hall in the Grove (The).
Household Puzzles.
Interrupted.
Judge Burnham's Daughters.
Julia Ried.
King's Daughter (The).
Little Fishers and Their Nets.
Links in Rebecca's Life.
Mrs. Solomon Smith Looking On.
Modern Prophets.
Man of the house.
New Graft on the Family Tree (A).
One Commonplace Day.
Pocket Measure (The).
Profiles.
Ruth Erskine's Crosses.
Randolphs (The).
Sevenfold Trouble (A).
Sidney Martin's Christmas.
Spun from Fact.
Those Boys.
Three People.
Tip Lewis and His Lamp.
Wise and Otherwise.
=Each volume 12mo, cloth. $1.25.=
Cunning Workmen.
Dr. Deane's Way.
Grandpa's Darlings.
Miss Priscilla Hunter.
Mrs. Deane's Way.
What She Said.
=Each volume 12mo, cloth, $1.00.=
At Home and Abroad.
Bobby's Wolf and other Stories.
Five Friends.
In the Woods and Out.
Young Folks Worth Knowing.
Mrs. Harry Harper's Awakening.
New Years Tangles.
Next Things.
<DW29> Scrap Book.
Some Young Heroines.
=Each volume 12mo, cloth, 75 cts.=
Couldn't be Bought.
Getting Ahead.
Mary Burton Abroad.
<DW29>s.
Six Little Girls.
Stories from the life of Jesus.
That Boy Bob.
Two Boys.
=Each volume 16mo, cloth, 75 cts.=
Bernie's White Chicken.
Docia's Journal.
Helen Lester.
Jessie Wells.
Monteagle.
=Each volume 16mo, cloth, 60 cts.=
Browning Boys.
Dozen of Them (A).
Gertrude's Diary.
Hedge Fence (A).
Side by Side.
Six O'Clock in the Evening.
Stories of Remarkable Women.
Stories of Great Men.
Story of Puff.
"We Twelve girls."
World of Little People (A).
[Illustration: NORMAN WAS A HANDSOME BOY WHEN SHE MARRIED MR. DECKER.]
Little Fishers: and Their Nets
BY
<DW29>
AUTHOR OF "CHRISTIE'S CHRISTMAS," "A HEDGE FENCE," "GERTRUDE'S
DIARY," "THE MAN OF THE HOUSE," "INTERRUPTED,"
"THE HALL IN THE GROVE," "AN ENDLESS
CHAIN," "MRS. SOLOMON SMITH LOOKING
ON," "FOUR GIRLS AT CHAUTAUQUA,"
"RUTH ERSKINE'S CROSSES,"
"SPUN FROM FACT,"
ETC., ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED_
BOSTON
D LOTHROP COMPANY
FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS
COPYRIGHT 1887
BY
D LOTHROP COMPANY
CONTENTS.
PAGE.
CHAPTER I.
THE DECKERS' HOME 7
CHAPTER II.
BEGINNING HER LIFE 24
CHAPTER III.
THE TRUTH IS TOLD 43
CHAPTER IV.
NEW FRIENDS 63
CHAPTER V.
A GREAT UNDERTAKING 85
CHAPTER VI.
HOW IT SUCCEEDED 106
CHAPTER VII.
LONG STORIES TO TELL 125
CHAPTER VIII.
A SABBATH TO REMEMBER 143
CHAPTER IX.
A BARGAIN AND A PROMISE 164
CHAPTER X.
PLEASURE AND DISAPPOINTMENT 179
CHAPTER XI.
A COMPLETE SUCCESS 204
CHAPTER XII.
AN UNEXPECTED HELPER 226
CHAPTER XIII.
THE LITTLE PICTURE MAKERS 240
CHAPTER XIV.
THE CONCERT 257
CHAPTER XV.
A WILL AND A WAY 271
CHAPTER XVI.
AN ORDEAL 288
CHAPTER XVII.
THE FLOWER PARTY 304
CHAPTER XVIII.
A SATISFACTORY EVENING 320
CHAPTER XIX.
READY TO TRY 334
CHAPTER XX.
THE WAY MADE PLAIN 351
CHAPTER XXI.
THE NEW ENTERPRISE 365
CHAPTER XXII.
TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE 382
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE CROWNING WONDER 400
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE PAST AND PRESENT 418
Little Fishers: and Their Nets.
CHAPTER I.
THE DECKERS' HOME.
JOE DECKER gave his chair a noisy shove backward from the table, over
the uneven floor, shambled across the space between it and the kitchen
door, a look of intense disgust on his face, then stopped for his
good-morning speech:
"You may as well know, first as last, that I've sent for Nan. I've
stood this kind of thing just exactly as long as I'm going to. There
ain't many men, I can tell you, who would have stood it so long. Such a
meal as that! Ain't fit for a decent dog!
"Nan is coming in the afternoon stage. There must be some place fixed
up for her to sleep in. Understand, now, that has _got_ to be done, and
I won't have no words about it."
Then he slammed the door, and went away.
Yes, he was talking to his wife! She could remember the time when he
used to linger in the door, talking to her, so many last words to say,
and when at last he would turn away with a kind "Well, good-by, Mary!
Don't work too hard."
But that seemed ages ago to the poor woman who was left this morning
in the wretched little room with the door slammed between her and her
husband. She did not look as though she had life enough left to make
words about anything. She sat in a limp heap in one of the broken
chairs, her bared arms lying between the folds of a soiled and ragged
apron.
Not an old woman, yet her hair was gray, and her cheeks were faded, and
her eyes looked as though they had not closed in quiet restful sleep
for months. She had not combed her hair that morning; and thin and
faded as it was, it hung in straggling locks about her face.
I don't suppose you ever saw a kitchen just like that one! It was
heated, not only by the fierce sun which streamed in at the two
uncurtained eastern windows, but by the big old stove, which could
smoke, not only, and throw out an almost unendurable heat on a warm
morning like this, when heat was not wanted, but had a way at all
times of refusing to heat the oven, and indeed had fits of sullenness
when it would not "draw" at all.
This was one of the mornings when the fire had chosen to burn; it had
swallowed the legs and back of a rickety chair which the mistress in
desperation had stuffed in, when she was waiting for the teakettle to
boil, and now that there was nothing to boil, or fry, and no need for
heat, the stump of wood, wet by yesterday's rain, had dried itself and
chosen to burn.
The west windows opened into a side yard, and the sound of children's
voices in angry dispute, and the smell of a pigsty, came in together,
and seemed equally discouraging to the wilted woman in the chair.
The sun was already pretty high in the sky, yet the breakfast-table
still stood in the middle of the room.
I don't know as I can describe that table to you. It was a square one,
unpainted, and stained with something red, and something green, and
spotted with grease, and spotted with black, rubbed from endless hot
kettles set on it, or else from one kettle set on it endless times;
it must have been that way, for now that I think of it, there was but
one kettle in that house. No tablecloth covered the stains; there was a
cracked plate which held a few crusts of very stale bread, and a teacup
about a third full of molasses, in which several flies were struggling.
More flies covered the bread crusts, and swam in a little mess of what
had been butter, but was now oil, and these were the only signs of food.
It was from this breakfast-table that the man had risen in disgust.
You don't wonder? You think it was enough to disgust anybody? That
is certainly true, but if the man had only stopped to think that the
reason it presented such an appearance was because he had steadily
drank up all that ought to have gone on it during the months past,
perhaps he would have turned his disgust where it belonged--on himself.
The woman had not tried to eat anything. She had given the best she had
to the husband and son, and had left it for them. She was very willing
to do so. It seemed to her as though she never could eat another
mouthful of anything.
Can you think of her, sitting in that broken chair midway between the
table and the stove, the heat from the stove puffing into her face; the
heat from the sun pouring full on her back, her straggling hair silvery
in the sunlight, her short, faded calico dress frayed about the ankles,
her feet showing plainly from the holes of the slippers into which they
were thrust, her hands folded about the soiled apron, and such a look
of utter hopeless sorrow on her face as cannot be described?
No, I hope you cannot imagine a woman like her, and will never see one
to help you paint the picture. And yet I don't know; since there are
such women--scores of them, thousands of them--why should you not know
about them, and begin now to plan ways of helping them out of these
kitchens, and out of these sorrows?
Mrs. Decker rose up presently, and staggered toward the table; a dim
idea of trying to clear it off, and put things in something like order,
struggled with the faintness she felt. She picked up two plates, sticky
with molasses, and having a piece of pork rind on one, and set them
into each other. She poured a slop of weak tea from one cracked cup
into another cracked cup, her face growing paler the while. Suddenly
she clutched at the table, and but for its help, would have fallen.
There was just strength enough left to help her back to the rickety
chair. Once there, she dropped into the same utterly hopeless position,
and though there was no one to listen, spoke her sorrowful thoughts.
"It's no use; I must just give up. I'm done for, and that's the truth!
I've been expecting it all along, and now it's come. I couldn't clear
up here and get them any dinner, not if he should kill me, and I don't
know but that will be the next thing. I've slaved and slaved; if
anybody ever tried to do something with nothing, I'm the one; and now
I'm done. I've just got to lie down, and stay there, till I die. I wish
I _could_ die. If I could do it quick, and be done with it, I wouldn't
care how soon; but it would be awful to lie there and see things go on;
oh, dear!"
She lifted up her poor bony hands and covered her face with them and
shook as though she was crying. But she shed no tears. The truth is,
her poor eyes were tired of crying. It was a good while since any tears
had come. After a few minutes she went on with her story.
"It isn't enough that we are naked, and half-starved, and things
growing worse every day, but now that Nan mast come and make one more
torment. 'Fix a place for her to sleep!' Where, I wonder, and what
with? It is too much! Flesh and blood can't bear any more. If ever a
woman did her best I have, and done it with nothing, and got no thanks
for it; now I've got to the end of my rope. If I have strength enough
to crawl back into bed, it is all there is left of me."
But for all that, she tried to do something else. Three times she made
an effort to clear away the few dirty things on that dirty table, and
each time felt the deadly faintness creeping over her, which sent her
back frightened to the chair. The children came in, crying, and she
tried to untie a string for one, and find a pin for the other; but her
fingers trembled so that the knot grew harder, and not even a pin was
left for her to give them, and she finally lost all patience with their
cross little ways and gave each a slap and an order not to come in the
house again that forenoon.
The door was ajar into the most discouraged looking bedroom that you
can think of. It was not simply that the bed was unmade; the truth is,
the clothes were so ragged that you would have thought they could not
be touched without falling to pieces; and they were badly stained and
soiled, the print of grimy little hands being all over them. Partly
pushed under, out of sight, was a trundle-bed, that, if anything,
looked more repulsive than the large one. There was an old barrel in
the corner, with a rough board over it, and a chair more rickety than
either of those in the kitchen, and this was the only furniture there
was in that room.
The only bright thing there was in it was the sunshine, for there was
an east window in this room, and the curtain was stretched as high as
it could be. To the eyes of the poor tired woman who presently dragged
herself into this room, the light and the heat from the sun seemed
more than she could bear, and she tugged at the brown paper curtain so
fiercely that it tore half across, but she got it down, and then she
fell forward among the rags of the bed with a groan.
Poor Mrs. Decker! I wonder if you have not imagined all her sorrowful
story without another word from me!
It is such an old story; and it has been told over so many times, that
all the children in America know it by heart.
Yes; she was the wife of a drunkard. Not that Joe Decker called himself
a drunkard; the most that he ever admitted was that he sometimes took a
drop too much! I don't think he had the least idea how many times in a
month he reeled home, unable to talk straight, unable to help himself
to his wretched bed.
I don't suppose he knew that his brain was never free from the effects
of alcohol; but his wife knew it only too well. She knew that he was
always cross and sullen now, when he was not fierce, and she knew that
this was not his natural disposition. No one need explain to her how
alcohol would effect a man's nature; she had watched her husband change
from month to month, and she knew that he was growing worse every day.
There was another sorrow in this sad woman's heart. She had one boy
who was nearly ten years old, when she married Mr. Decker; and people
had said to her often and often, "What a handsome boy you have, Mrs.
Lloyd; he ought to have been a girl." And the first time she had felt
any particular interest in Joe Decker was when he made her boy a kite,
and showed him how to fly it, and gave him one bright evening, such
as fathers give their boys. This boy's father had died when he was
a baby, and the Widow Lloyd had struggled on alone; caring for him,
keeping him neatly dressed, sending him to school as soon as he was old
enough, bringing him up in such a way that it was often and often said
in the village, "What a nice boy that Norman Lloyd is! A credit to his
mother!" And the mother had sat and sewed, in the evenings when Norman
was in bed, and thought over the things that fathers could do for boys
which mothers could not; and then thought that there were things which
mothers could do for girls that fathers could not, and Mr. Joseph
Decker, the carpenter, had a little girl, she had been told, only a few
years younger than her Norman. And so, when Mr. Decker had made kites,
not only, but little sail boats, and once, a little table for Norman to
put his school books on, with a drawer in it for his writing-book and
pencil, and when he had in many kind and manly ways won her heart, this
respectable widow who had for ten years earned her own and her boy's
living, married him, and went to keep his home for him, and planned as
to the kind and motherly things which she would do for his little girl
when she came home.
Alas for plans! She knew, this foolish woman, that Mr. Decker sometimes
took a drink of beer with his noon meal, and again at night, perhaps;
but she said to herself, "No wonder, poor man; always having to eat his
dinner out of a pail! No home, and no woman to see that he had things
nice and comfortable. She would risk but what he would stay at home,
when he had one to stay in, and like a bit of beefsteak better than the
beer, any day."
She had not calculated as to the place which the beer held in his
heart. Neither had he. He was astonished to find that it was not easy
to give it up, even when Mary wanted him to. He was astonished at first
to discover how often he was thirsty with a thirst that nothing but
beer would satisfy. I have not time for all the story. The beer was not
given up, the habit grew stronger and stronger, and steadily, though at
first slowly, the Deckers went down. From being one of the best workmen
in town, Mr. Decker dropped down to the level of "Old Joe Decker,"
whom people would not employ if they could get anybody else. The little
girl had never come home save for a short visit; at first the new
mother was sorry, then she was glad.
As the days passed, her heart grew heavier and heavier; a horrible fear
which was almost a certainty, had now gotten hold of her--that her
handsome, manly Norman was going to copy the father she had given him!
Poor mother!
I would not, if I could, describe to you all the miseries of that long
day! How the mother lay and tossed on that miserable bed, and burned
with fever and groaned with pain. How the children quarreled and cried,
and ran into mother, and cried again because she could give them no
attention, and made up, and ran out again to play, and quarreled again.
How the father came home at noon, more under the influence of liquor
than he had been in the morning; and swore at the table still standing
as he had left it at breakfast time, and swore at his wife for "lying
in bed and sulking, instead of doing her work like a decent woman," and
swore at his children for crying with hunger; and finally divided what
remained of the bread between them, and went off himself to a saloon,
where he spent twenty-five cents for his dinner, and fifty cents for
liquor. How Norman came home, and looked about the deserted kitchen
and empty cupboard, and looked in at his mother, and said he was sorry
she had a headache, and sighed, and wished that he had a decent home
like other fellows, and wished that a doctor could be found, who didn't
want more money than he was worth, to pay him for coming to see a
sick woman, and then went to a bakery and bought a loaf of bread, and
a piece of cheese, and having munched these, washed them down with
several glasses of beer, went back to his work. Meantime, the playing
and the quarreling, and the crying, went on outside, and Mrs. Decker
continued to sleep her heavy, feverish sleep.
Several times she wakened in a bewilderment of fever and pain, and
groaned, and tried to get up, and fell back and groaned again, and lost
her misery in another unnaturally heavy sleep, and the day wore away
until it was three o'clock in the afternoon. The stages would be due in
a few minutes--the one that brought passengers over from the railroad
junction a mile away. The children in the yard did not know that one
of them was expected to stop at their house; and the father when he
came home at noon had been drinking too much liquor to remember it; and
Norman had not heard of it, and for his mother's sake would have been
too angry to have met it if he had; so Nan was coming home with nobody
to welcome her.
If you had seen her sitting at that moment, a trim little maiden in the
stage, her face all flushed over the prospect of seeing father, and the
rest, in a few minutes, you would not have thought it possible that she
could belong to the Decker family.
She had not seen her home in seven years. She had been a little thing
of six when she went away with the Marshall family.
It had all come about naturally. Mrs. Marshall was their neighbor, and
had known her mother from childhood; and when she died had carried the
motherless little girl home with her to stay until Mr. Decker decided
what to do; and he was slow in deciding, and Mrs. Marshall had a family
of boys, but no little girl, and held the motherless one tenderly for
her mother's sake; and when the Marshalls suddenly had an offer of
business which made it necessary for them to move to the city, they
clung to the little girl, and proposed to Mr. Decker that she should go
with them and stay until he had a place for her again.
Apparently he had not found a place for her in all these seven years,
for she had never been sent for to come home.
The new wife had wanted her at first, to be mother to her, as she
fancied Mr. Decker was going to be father to her boy. But it did not
take her very many months to get her eyes open to the thought that
perhaps the girl would be better off away from her father; and of late
years she had looked on the possible home-coming with positive terror.
Her own little | 2,274.079622 |
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Internet Archive)
Transcriber's Notes
[oe] replaces the oe ligature
bold text: =equals signs=
small caps: +plus signs+
italic text: _underscores_
imflammable typo replaced with inflammable
musquitoes replaced with mosquitoes
dazzingly replaced with dazzlingly
Ææan replaced with Ægean
harrasses replaced with harasses
vail replaced with veil
seige replaced with siege
beseiged replaced with besieged
vengance replaced with vengeance
Acadie replaced with Acadia
Uncommon and inconsistent hyphenation and spelling have been retained;
typographical errors have been corrected.
CAMERON OF LOCHIEL
Works of
Charles G. D. Roberts
[Illustration]
The Prisoner of Mademoiselle
The Watchers of the Trails
The Kindred of the Wild
The Heart of the Ancient Wood
Earth's Enigmas
Barbara Ladd
The Forge in the Forest
A Sister to Evangeline
By the Marshes of Minas
A History of Canada
The Book of the Rose
Poems
New York Nocturnes
The Book of the Native
In Divers Tones (_Out of print_)
Songs of the Common Day (_Out of print_)
[Illustration]
Cameron of Lochiel
(_Translated from the French of Philippe Aubert
de Gaspé_)
[Illustration]
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
New England Building
Boston, Mass.
[Illustration
Illustration: _Cameron of Lochiel._]
(_See page 68._)
CAMERON OF
LOCHIEL
BY
PHILIPPE AUBERT DE GASPÉ
TRANSLATED BY
CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS
NEW EDITION
_With a frontispiece by_
H. C. EDWARDS
[Illustration]
BOSTON
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
_MDCCCCV_
_Copyright, 1890_
+By D. Appleton and Company+
_Copyright, 1905_
+By L. C. Page & Company+
(INCORPORATED)
PREFACE TO NEW EDITION
This leisurely and loose-knit romance of de Gaspé's, which he called
"Les Anciens Canadiens," has for hero one who was not a Canadian, but
a Scotch exile sojourning in Canada. It is on the creation of this
character, consistently developed and convincingly presented, that the
book must mainly base its claim to be called a work of fiction, rather
than a volume of memoirs and folklore. I have ventured, therefore, at
the suggestion of my publishers, to take a liberty with the author's
title, and name the story after this young Scotch exile, "Cameron of
Lochiel." I am the more willing to take this liberty because I feel
that de Gaspé has not hitherto been granted the place he is entitled to
in the ranks of Canadian fictionists. Considered purely as a romance,
it seems to me that the sincerity, simplicity, and originality of this
work quite outweigh its sprawling looseness of structure, and make it
one of the unique ornaments of the composite literature which we are
building up in Canada. If by so changing its title as to emphasize the
fictional character of the work I can the better call attention to the
worth of de Gaspé's achievement, I feel that I am justified, even in
the face of such anticipatory protest as may seem to be implied in the
author's too modest introduction.
When all this has been said, however, the fact remains that it was
not its many merits as a romance that induced me to translate this
work, but the riches of Canadian tradition, folk-lore, and perished
customs embalmed in the clear amber of its narrative, coupled with my
own anxiety to contribute, in however humble a way, to the increase
of understanding and confidence between the two great branches of the
Canadian people. It is a beautiful and gracious life, that of old
French Canada, as depicted in de Gaspé's lucent pages,--a life of high
ideals, and family devotion, and chivalry, and courage. This is an
atmosphere it is wholesome to breathe. These are people it is excellent
to know; and the whole influence of the story makes for trust and a
good understanding.
C. G. D. R.
+Fredericton, N. B.+, _May, 1905_.
PREFACE.
In Canada there is settling into shape a nation of two races; there
is springing into existence, at the same time, a literature in
two languages. In the matter of strength and stamina there is no
overwhelming disparity between the two races. The two languages are
admittedly those to which belong the supreme literary achievements of
the modern world. In this dual character of the Canadian people and the
Canadian literature there is afforded a series of problems which the
future will be taxed to solve. To make any intelligent forecast as to
the solution is hardly possible without a fair comprehension of the two
races as they appear at the point of contact. We, of English speech,
turn naturally to French-Canadian literature for knowledge of the
French-Canadian people. The romance before us, while intended for those
who read to be entertained, and by no means weighted down with didactic
purpose, succeeds in throwing, by its faithful depictions of life and
sentiment among the early French Canadians, a strong side-light upon
the motives and aspirations of the race.
In spite of the disclaimer with which the author begins, the romance
of Les Anciens Canadiens is a classic. From the literary point of
view it is markedly the best historical romance so far produced in
French Canada. It gathers up and preserves in lasting form the songs
and legends, the characteristic customs, the phases of thought and
feeling, the very local and personal aroma of a rapidly changing
civilization. Much of what de Gaspé has so vividly painted from his
boyish reminiscences had faded out of the life upon which his alert
eyes rested in old age. The origin of the romance, as given by his
biographer, the Abbé Casgrain, is as follows:
When, in 1861, that patriotic French-Canadian publication the _Soirées
Canadiennes_ was established, its inaugurators adopted as their motto
the words: "Let us make haste to write down the stories and traditions
of the people, before they are forgotten." M. de Gaspé was struck with
the idea; and seeing that the writers who were setting themselves the
laudable task were all young men, he took the words as a summons to his
old age, and so the book came to be written.
Patriotism, devotion to the French-Canadian nationality, a just pride
of race, and a loving memory for his people's romantic and heroic
past--these are the dominant chords which are struck throughout the
story. Of special significance, therefore, are the words which are put
in the mouth of the old seigneur as he bids his son a last farewell.
The father has been almost ruined by the conquest. The son has left
the French army and taken the oath of allegiance to the English crown.
"Serve thy new sovereign," says the dying soldier, "as faithfully as I
have served the King of France; and may God bless thee, my dear son!"
In the present day, when nationalism in Quebec appears rather given
to extravagant dreams, it would be well for the distant observer to
view the French Canadians through the faithful medium which de Gaspé's
work affords him. Under constitutional forms of government it is
inevitable that a vigorous and homogeneous minority, whose language
and institutions are more or less threatened by the mere preponderance
of the dominant race, should seem at times overvehement in its
self-assertion. A closer knowledge leads us to conclude that perhaps
the extreme of Quebec nationalism is but the froth on the surface of a
not unworthy determination to keep intact the speech and institutions
of French Canada. However this may be, it is certain that the point of
contact between the two races in Canada is at the present day as rich
a field for the romancer as de Gaspé found it at the close of the _old
régime_.
According to the Histoire de la littérature Canadienne of Edmond
Lareau, Philippe Aubert de Gaspé was born in Quebec on the 30th of
October, 1786. He died in 1871. He belonged to a noble French-Canadian
family. At the manor of St. Jean-Port-Joli, of which he was seigneur,
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CHILDREN OF WILD AUSTRALIA
[Illustration: BOY SPEARING FISH]
CHILDREN OF WILD AUSTRALIA
BY
HERBERT PITTS
AUTHOR OF
"THE AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL AND THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH"
[Illustration: Decoration]
WITH EIGHT COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
OLIPHANT, ANDERSON & FERRIER
PRINTED BY
TURNBULL AND SPEARS,
EDINBURGH
TO
DEAR LITTLE MARY
THIS LITTLE BOOK
ABOUT
THE LITTLE BLACK BOYS AND GIRLS
OF A FAR-OFF LAND
IS DEDICATED BY
HER FATHER
MY DEAR BOYS AND GIRLS,
All the time I have been writing this little book I have been wishing I
could gather you all around me and take you with me to some of the
places in faraway Australia where I myself have seen the little black
children at their play. You would understand so much better all I have
tried to say.
It is a bright sunny land where those children live, but in many ways a
far less pleasant land to live in than our own. The country often grows
very parched and bare, the grass dies, the rivers begin to dry up, and
the poor little children of the wilderness have great difficulty in
getting food. Then perhaps a great storm comes and a great quantity of
rain falls. The rivers fill up and the grass begins to grow again, but
myriads of flies follow and they get into the children's eyes and
perhaps blind some of them, and the mosquitoes come and bite them and
give them fevers sometimes.
Yet though much of the land is wilderness--bare, sandy plains--beautiful
flowers bloom there after the rains. Lovely hibiscus, the giant scarlet
pea, and thousands of delicate white and yellow everlastings are there
for the eyes to feast upon, but the loveliest flowers of all are
frequently the love and tenderness and unselfishness which bloom in the
children's hearts.
I have left Australia now and settled down again in the old homeland,
but the memories of the eight years I spent among the dear little
children out there are still very delightful ones, and they, more than
anything I have read, have helped me to write this little book for you.
Your Sincere friend,
HERBERT PITTS
DOUGLAS, I.O.M., 1914
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
INTRODUCTORY LETTER 7
I. INTRODUCTORY 11
II. PICCANINNIES 17
III. "GREAT-GREAT-GREATEST-GRANDFATHER" 23
IV. BLACKFELLOWS' "HOMES" 26
V. EDUCATION 31
VI. WEAPONS, ETC., WHICH CHILDREN LEARN TO
MAKE AND USE 35
VII. HOW FOOD IS CAUGHT AND COOKED 40
VIII. CORROBBOREES, OR NATIVE DANCES 44
IX. MAGIC AND SORCERY 47
X. SOME STRANGE WAYS OF DISPOSING OF THE DEAD 56
XI. SOME STORIES WHICH ARE TOLD TO CHILDREN 60
XII. MORE STORIES TOLD TO CHILDREN 65
XIII. RELIGION 68
XIV. YARRABAH 72
XV. TRUBANAMAN CREEK 79
XVI. SOME ABORIGINAL SAINTS AND HEROES 85
XVII. THE CHOCOLATE BOX 89
ILLUSTRATIONS
BOY SPEARING FISH _Frontispiece_
PAGE
HUNTING PARROTS AND COCKATOOS 12
ABORIGINAL CHILDREN AND NATIVE HUT 28
LEARNING TO USE THE BOOMERANG 42
YOUTH IN WAR PAINT 52
GIRLS' CLASS AT YARRABAH SCHOOL 73
BATHING OFF JETTY AT YARRABAH 78
THE FIRST SCHOOL AT MITCHELL RIVER 84
CHILDREN OF WILD AUSTRALIA
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY
This little book is all about the children of wild Australia--where they
came from, how they live, the weapons they fight with, their strange
ideas and peculiar customs. But first of all you ought to know something
of the country in which they live, whence and how they first came to it,
and what we mean by "wild Australia" to-day, for it is not all
"wild"--very, very far from that.
Australia is a very big country, nearly as large again as India, and no
less than sixty times the size of England without Wales. Nearly half of
it lies within the tropics so that in summer it is extremely hot. There
are fewer white people than there are in London, in fact less than five
millions in all and more than a third of these live in the five big
cities which you will find around the coast, and about a third more in
smaller towns not so very far from the sea. The further you travel from
the coast the more scattered does the white population become, till some
hundred miles inland or more you reach the sheep and cattle country
where the homes of the white men are twenty or even more miles apart.
Further back still lies a vast, and, as far as whites are concerned,
almost unpeopled region into which, however, the squatter is constantly
pushing in search of new pastures for his flocks and herds, and into
which the prospector goes further and further on the look-out for gold.
This country we call in Australia "the Never-Never Land," and it is this
which is wild Australia to-day. It lies mostly in the North and runs
right up to the great central desert. It is there that the aboriginals,
or black people, are found. The actual number of these black people
cannot be exactly ascertained, but there are probably not more than
100,000 of them left to-day.
Much of wild Australia is made up of vast treeless plains and huge
tracts of spinifex (a coarse native grass) and sand. Sometimes in the
North-west one travels miles and miles without seeing a tree except on
the river banks, but in Queensland there is sometimes dense and almost
impenetrable jungle, and mighty, towering trees, with many beautiful
flowering shrubs. All alike is called "bush," which is the general term
in Australia for all that is not town.
The animals of wild Australia are most interesting and numerous. Several
kinds of kangaroo (from the giant "old man," five feet or more in
height, to the tiny little kangaroo mice no larger than our own mice at
home), make their home there, and emus may often be seen running across
the plains. Gorgeous parrots and many varieties of cockatoos are found
in great numbers, snakes are numerous, whilst the rivers and water-holes
teem with fish. Wild dogs, or dingos, too, are very numerous.
[Illustration: HUNTING PARROTS AND COCKATOOS]
For hundreds and hundreds of years the aborigines had this vast country
to themselves, for though Spaniards, like Torres and De Quiros, and
Dutchmen, like Tasman and Dirk Hartog, had visited their shores, and an
Englishman named William Dampier had even landed in the North West in
1688, it was not till exactly a hundred years afterwards that white men
first came to make their homes in their land.
The aborigines are a Dravidian people, and, some think, of the same
parent stock as ourselves. Thousands of years ago, long, long before our
remote ancestors had learned how to build houses, make pottery, till the
soil, or domesticate any animal except the dog--long years, in fact,
before history began, the aboriginals left their primitive home on the
hills of the Deccan and drifting southward in their bark canoes landed
at last on the northern and western shores of the great island
continent. There they found an earlier people with darker skins than
their own and curly hair, very much like the Papuans and Melanesians of
to-day, and they drove them further and further southwards before them
just as our own English forefathers, coming to this land, drove an
earlier people before them into the mountain fastnesses of Wales and
Cumberland and into Cornwall. Some time afterwards came a series of
earthquakes and other disturbances which cut Tasmania away from the
mainland, and there till 1878 that early Papuan people survived.
As the blacks grew more numerous they began to form tribes, and to
divide the country up among themselves. Thus each tribe had its own
hunting-ground to which it must keep and on which no other tribe must
come and settle. But at length the white men came and they | 2,274.671915 |
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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
VOLUME 104, MAY 27TH 1893
edited by Sir Francis Burnand
AN APPEAL FOR INSPIRATION.
[Mr. LEWIS MORRIS has been requested to write an ode
on the approaching Royal Marriage.]
AWAKE my Muse, inspire your LEWIS MORRIS
To pen an ode! to be another Horris!
"HORACE" I should have written, but in place of it
You see the word--well, I'm within an _ace_ of it.
Awake my muse! strike up! your bard inspire
To write this--"by particular desire."
Wet towels! Midnight oil! Here! Everything
That can induce the singing bard to sing.
Shake me, Ye Nine! I'm resolute, I'm bold!
Come, Inspiration, lend thy furious hold!
MORRIS on Pegasus! Plank money down!
I'll back myself to win the Laureate's Crown!
* * * * *
THE CHIEF SECRETARY'S MUSICAL PERFORMANCE, WITH ACCOMPANIMENT.
--Mr. JOHN MORLEY arrived last Friday at Kingston. He went to Bray.
He was "accompanied" by the Under Secretary. Surely the Leader of the
Opposition, now at Belfast, won't lose such a chance as this item of
news offers.
* * * * *
THE "WATER-CARNIVAL."--Good idea! But a very large proportion of those
whom the show attracts would be all the better for a Soap-and-Water
Carnival. Old Father Thames might be considerably improved by the
process.
* * * * *
[Illustration: A RESERVED SEAT.
_Mistress._ "WELL, JAMES, HOW DID YOU LIKE THE SHOW? I HOPE YOU GOT A
GOOD VIEW."
_Jim._ "YES THANKYE, M'M; I SAW IT FIRST-RATE. THERE WAS ROOM FUR FOUR
OR FIVE MORE WHERE I WAS."
_Mistress (surprised)._ "INDEED!--WHERE WAS THAT?"
_Jim._ "IN THE PARK, M'M,--UP A CHES'NUT TREE."]
* * * * *
ODDS BOBBILI!
(_The Rajah of Bobbili arrived by P.& O. at Marseilles, where he
was received by Col. Humphrey on behalf of the Queen._)
There was a gay Rajah of Bobbili
Who felt when a steamer on wobblely,
"Delighted," says he,
"Colonel HUMPHREY to see,"
So they dined and they drank hobby-nobbeley.
* * * * *
IS THE _TIMES_ ALSO AMONG THE PUNSTERS?--In its masterly, or rather
school-masterly, article last Saturday, on "The Divisions on the
Home-Rule Bill," written with the special intention of whipping up the
Unionist absentees, the _Times_ said, "There is an opinion that, with
a measure so far-reaching in its character as the Home-Rule Bill,
pairing should be resorted to as sparingly as possible." The eye
gift | 2,274.815003 |
2023-11-16 18:54:58.8624530 | 7,433 | 8 |
Produced by David Edwards, Charlie Howard, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
Transcriber’s Note
This Table of Contents was added by the Transcriber and placed in the
Public Domain.
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I 1
CHAPTER II 10
CHAPTER III 25
CHAPTER IV 37
CHAPTER V 52
CHAPTER VI 59
CHAPTER VII 77
CHAPTER VIII 90
CHAPTER IX 101
CHAPTER X 109
CHAPTER XI 124
CHAPTER XII 132
CHAPTER XIII 143
CHAPTER XIV 155
CHAPTER XV 170
CHAPTER XVI 180
CHAPTER XVII 194
CHAPTER XVIII 202
CHAPTER XIX 219
CHAPTER XX 239
CHAPTER XXI 248
CHAPTER XXII 264
CHAPTER XXIII 274
CHAPTER XXIV 288
CHAPTER XXV 299
A CHICAGO PRINCESS
A CHICAGO
PRINCESS
By ROBERT BARR
Author of “Over the Border,” “The Victors,” “Tekla,”
“In the Midst of Alarms,” “A Woman Intervenes,” etc.
Illustrated by FRANCIS P. WIGHTMAN
[Illustration]
New York · FREDERICK A.
STOKES COMPANY · Publishers
_Copyright, 1904, by_
ROBERT BARR
_All rights reserved_
This edition published in June, 1904
A CHICAGO PRINCESS
CHAPTER I
When I look back upon a certain hour of my life it fills me with wonder
that I should have been so peacefully happy. Strange as it may seem,
utter despair is not without its alloy of joy. The man who daintily
picks his way along a muddy street is anxious lest he soil his polished
boots, or turns up his coat collar to save himself from the shower that
is beginning, eager then to find a shelter; but let him inadvertently
step into a pool, plunging head over ears into foul water, and after
that he has no more anxiety. Nothing that weather can inflict will add
to his misery, and consequently a ray of happiness illumines his gloomy
horizon. He has reached the limit; Fate can do no more; and there is
a satisfaction in attaining the ultimate of things. So it was with me
that beautiful day; I had attained my last phase.
I was living in the cheapest of all paper houses, living as the
Japanese themselves do, on a handful of rice, and learning by
experience how very little it requires to keep body and soul together.
But now, when I had my next meal of rice, it would be at the expense
of my Japanese host, who was already beginning to suspect,--so it
seemed to me,--that I might be unable to liquidate whatever debt I
incurred. He was very polite about it, but in his twinkling little
eyes there lurked suspicion. I have travelled the whole world over,
especially the East, and I find it the same everywhere. When a man
comes down to his final penny, some subtle change in his deportment
seems to make the whole world aware of it. But then, again, this
supposed knowledge on the part of the world may have existed only in my
own imagination, as the Christian Scientists tell us every ill resides
in the mind. Perhaps, after all, my little bowing landlord was not
troubling himself about the payment of the bill, and I only fancied him
uneasy.
If an untravelled person, a lover of beauty, were sitting in my place
on that little elevated veranda, it is possible the superb view spread
out before him might account for serenity in circumstances which to
the ordinary individual would be most depressing. But the view was an
old companion of mine; goodness knows I had looked at it often enough
when I climbed that weary hill and gazed upon the town below me, and
the magnificent harbor of Nagasaki spreading beyond. The water was
intensely blue, dotted with shipping of all nations, from the stately
men-of-war to the ocean tramps and the little coasting schooners. It
was an ever-changing, animated scene; but really I had had enough of it
during all those ineffective months of struggle in the attempt to earn
even the rice and the poor lodging which I enjoyed.
[Illustration: “The twinkling eyes of the Emperor fixed themselves on
Miss Hemster.”
_Page 144_
]
Curiously, it was not of this harbor I was thinking, but of another in
far-distant Europe, that of Boulogne in the north of France, where I
spent a day with my own yacht before I sailed for America. And it was a
comical thought that brought the harbor of Boulogne to my mind. I had
seen a street car there, labelled “Le Dernier Sou,” which I translated
as meaning “The Last Cent.” I never took a trip on this street car,
but I presume somewhere in the outskirts of Boulogne there is a suburb
named “The Last Cent,” and I thought now with a laugh: “Here I am in
Japan, and although I did not take that street car, yet I have arrived
at ‘Le Dernier Sou.’”
This morning I had not gone down to the harbor to prosecute my search
for employment. As with my last cent, I had apparently given that idea
up. There was no employer needing men to whom I had not applied time
and again, willing to take the laborer’s wage for the laborer’s work.
But all my earlier training had been by way of making me a gentleman,
and the manner was still upon me in spite of my endeavors to shake it
off, and I had discovered that business men do not wish gentlemen as
day-laborers. There was every reason that I should be deeply depressed;
yet, strange to say, I was not. Had I at last reached the lotus-eating
content of the vagabond? Was this care-free condition the serenity of
the tramp? Would my next step downward be the unblushing begging of
food, with the confidence that if I were refused at one place I should
receive at another? With later knowledge, looking back at that moment
of mitigated happiness, I am forced to believe that it was the effect
of coming events casting their shadows before. Some occultists tell us
that every action that takes place on the earth, no matter how secretly
done, leaves its impression on some ethereal atmosphere, visible to
a clairvoyant, who can see and describe to us exactly what has taken
place. If this be true, it is possible that our future experiences may
give sub-mental warnings of their approach.
As I sat there in the warm sunlight and looked over the crowded harbor,
I thought of the phrase, “When my ship comes in.” There was shipping
enough in the bay, and possibly, if I could but have known where,
some friend of mine might at that moment be tramping a white deck,
or sitting in a steamer chair, looking up at terrace upon terrace of
the toy houses among which I kept my residence. Perhaps my ship had
come in already if only I knew which were she. As I lay back on the
light bamboo chair, along which I had thrown myself,--a lounging,
easy, half-reclining affair like those we used to have at college,--I
gazed upon the lower town and harbor, taking in the vast blue surface
of the bay; and there along the indigo expanse of the waters, in
striking contrast to them, floated a brilliantly white ship gradually,
imperceptibly approaching. The canvas, spread wing and wing, as it
increased in size, gave it the appearance of a swan swimming toward me,
and I thought lazily:
“It is like a dove coming to tell me that my deluge of misery is past,
and there is an olive-branch of foam in its beak.”
As the whole ship became visible I saw that it, like the canvas,
was pure white, and at first I took it for a large sailing yacht
rapidly making Nagasaki before the gentle breeze that was blowing;
but as she drew near I saw that she was a steamer, whose trim lines,
despite her size, were somewhat unusual in these waters. If this were
indeed a yacht she must be owned by some man of great wealth, for
she undoubtedly cost a fortune to build and a very large income to
maintain. As she approached the more crowded part of the bay, her sails
were lowered and she came slowly in on her own momentum. I fancied I
heard the rattle of the chain as her anchor plunged into the water, and
now I noticed with a thrill that made me sit up in my lounging chair
that the flag which flew at her stern was the Stars and Stripes. It
is true that I had little cause to be grateful to the country which
this piece of bunting represented, for had it not looted me of all I
possessed? Nevertheless in those distant regions an Englishman regards
the United States flag somewhat differently from that of any nation
save his own. Perhaps there is an unconscious feeling of kinship;
perhaps the similarity of language may account for it, because an
Englishman understands American better than any other foreign tongue.
Be that as it may, the listlessness departed from me as I gazed upon
that banner, as crude and gaudy as our own, displaying the most
striking of the primary colors. The yacht rested on the blue waters
as gracefully as if she were a large white waterfowl, and I saw the
sampans swarm around her like a fluffy brood of ducklings.
And now I became conscious that the most polite individual in the
world was making an effort to secure my attention, yet striving to
accomplish his purpose in the most unobtrusive way. My patient and
respected landlord, Yansan, was making deep obeisances before me, and
he held in his hand a roll which I strongly suspected to be my overdue
bill. I had the merit in Yansan’s eyes of being able to converse with
him in his own language, and the further advantage to myself of being
able to read it; therefore he bestowed upon me a respect which he did
not accord to all Europeans.
“Ah, Yansan!” I cried to him, taking the bull by the horns, “I was
just thinking of you. I wish you would be more prompt in presenting
your account. By such delay errors creep into it which I am unable to
correct.”
Yansan awarded me three bows, each lower than the one preceding it,
and, while bending his back, endeavored, though with some confusion,
to conceal the roll in his wide sleeve. Yansan was possessed of much
shrewdness, and the bill certainly was a long standing one.
“Your Excellency,” he began, “confers too much honor on the dirt
beneath your feet by mentioning the trivial sum that is owing.
Nevertheless, since it is your Excellency’s command, I shall at once
retire and prepare the document for you.”
“Oh, don’t trouble about that, Yansan,” I said, “just pull it out of
your sleeve and let me look over it.”
The wrinkled face screwed itself up into a grimace more like that of a
monkey than usual, and so, with various genuflections, Yansan withdrew
the roll and proffered it to me. Therein, in Japanese characters,
was set down the long array of my numerous debts to him. Now, in
whatever part of the world a man wishes to delay the payment of a bill,
the proper course is to dispute one or more of its items, and this
accordingly I proceeded to do.
“I grieve to see, Yansan,” I began, putting my finger on the dishonest
hieroglyphic, “that on the fourth day you have set down against me
a repast of rice, whereas you very well know on that occasion I did
myself the honor to descend into the town and lunch with his Excellency
the Governor.”
Again Yansan lowered his ensign three times, then deplored the error
into which he had fallen, saying it would be immediately rectified.
“There need to be no undue hurry about the rectification,” I replied,
“for when it comes to a settlement I shall not be particular about the
price of a plate of rice.”
Yansan was evidently much gratified to hear this, but I could see that
my long delay in liquidating his account was making it increasingly
difficult for him to subdue his anxiety. The fear of monetary loss was
struggling with his native politeness. Then he used the formula which
is correct the world over.
“Excellency, I am a poor man, and next week have heavy payments to make
to a creditor who will put me in prison if I produce not the money.”
“Very well,” said I grandly, waving my hand toward the crowded harbor,
“my ship has come in where you see the white against the blue.
To-morrow you shall be paid.”
Yansan looked eagerly in the direction of my gesture.
“She is English,” he said.
“No, American.”
“It is a war-ship?”
“No, she belongs to a private person, not to the Government.”
“Ah, he must be a king, then,--a king of that country.”
“Not so, Yansan; he is one of many kings, a pork king, or an oil king
or a railroad king.”
“Surely there cannot be but one king in a country, Excellency,”
objected Yansan.
“Ah, you are thinking of a small country like Japan. One king does for
such a country; but America is larger than many Japans, therefore it
has numerous kings, and here below us is one of them.”
“I should think, Excellency,” said Yansan, “that they would fight with
one another.”
“That they do, and bitterly, too, in a way your kings never thought of.
I myself was grievously wounded in one of their slightest struggles.
That flag which you see there waves over my fortune. Many a million of
sen pieces which once belonged to me rest secure for other people under
its folds.”
My landlord lifted his hands in amazement at my immense wealth.
“This, then, is perhaps the treasure-ship bringing money to your
Excellency,” he exclaimed, awestricken.
“That’s just what it is, Yansan, and I must go down and collect it; so
bring me a dinner of rice, that I may be prepared to meet the captain
who carries my fortune.”
CHAPTER II
After a frugal repast I went down the hill to the lower town, and
on inquiry at the custom-house learned that the yacht was named the
“Michigan,” and that she was owned by Silas K. Hemster, of Chicago. So
far as I could learn, the owner had not come ashore; therefore I hired
a sampan from a boatman who trusted me. I was already so deeply in his
debt that he was compelled to carry me, inspired by the optimistic
hope that some day the tide of my fortunes would turn. I believe that
commercial institutions are sometimes helped over a crisis in the same
manner, as they owe so much their creditors dare not let them sink.
Many a time had this lad ferried me to one steamer after another, until
now his anxiety that I should obtain remunerative employment was nearly
as great as my own.
As we approached the “Michigan” I saw that a rope ladder hung over the
side, and there leaned against the rail a very free-and-easy sailor in
white duck, who was engaged in squirting tobacco-juice into Nagasaki
Bay. Intuitively I understood that he had sized up the city of Nagasaki
and did not think much of it. Probably it compared unfavorably with
Chicago. The seaman made no opposition to my mounting the ladder; in
fact he viewed my efforts with the greatest indifference. Approaching
him, I asked if Mr. Hemster was aboard, and with a nod of his head
toward the after part of the vessel he said, “That’s him.”
Looking aft, I now noticed a man sitting in a cushioned cane chair,
with his two feet elevated on the spotless rail before him. He also
was clothed in light summer garb, and had on his head a somewhat
disreputable slouch hat with a very wide brim. His back was toward
Nagasaki, as if he had no interest in the place. He revolved an unlit
cigar in his mouth, in a manner quite impossible to describe; but as I
came to know him better I found that he never lit his weed, but kept
its further end going round and round in a little circle by a peculiar
motion of his lips. Though he used the very finest brand of cigars,
none ever lasted him for more than ten minutes, when he would throw it
away, take another, bite off the end, and go through the same process
once more. What satisfaction he got out of an unlighted cigar I was
never able to learn.
His was a thin, keen, business face, with no hair on it save a tuft
at the chin, like the beard of a goat. As I approached him I saw that
he was looking sideways at me out of the corners of his eyes, but he
neither raised his head nor turned it around. I was somewhat at a loss
how to greet him, but for want of a better opening I began:
“I am told you are Mr. Hemster.”
“Well!” he drawled slowly, with his cigar between his teeth, released
for a moment from the circular movement of his lips, “you may thank
your stars you are told something you can believe in this God-forsaken
land.”
I smiled at this unexpected reply and ventured:
“As a matter of fact, the East is not renowned for its truthfulness. I
know it pretty well.”
“You do, eh? Do you understand it?”
“I don’t think either an American or a European ever understands an
Asiatic people.”
“Oh, yes, we do,” rejoined Mr. Hemster; “they’re liars and that’s all
there is _to_ them. Liars and lazy; that sums them up.”
As I was looking for the favor of work, it was not my place to
contradict him, and the confident tone in which he spoke showed that
contradiction would have availed little. He was evidently one of the
men who knew it all, and success had confirmed him in his belief. I had
met people of his calibre before,--to my grief.
“Well, young man, what can I do for you?” he asked, coming directly to
the point.
“I am looking for a job,” I said.
“What’s your line?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“What can you do?”
“I am capable of taking charge of this ship as captain, or of working
as a man before the mast.”
“You spread yourself out too thin, my son. A man who can do everything
can do nothing. We specialize in our country. I hire men who can do
only one thing, and do that thing better than anybody else.”
“Sir, I do not agree with you,” I could not help saying. “The most
capable people in the world are the Americans. The best log house I
ever saw was built by a man who owned a brown-stone front on Fifth
Avenue. He simply pushed aside the guides whose specialty it was to
do such things, took the axe in his own hands, and showed them how it
should be accomplished.”
Mr. Hemster shoved his hat to the back of his head, and for the first
time during our interview looked me squarely in the face.
“Where was that?” he inquired.
“Up in Canada.”
“Oh, well, the Fifth Avenue man had probably come from the backwoods
and so knew how to handle an axe.”
“It’s more than likely,” I admitted.
“What were you doing in Canada?”
“Fishing and shooting.”
“You weren’t one of the guides he pushed aside?”
I laughed.
“No, I was one of the two who paid for the guides.”
“Well, to come back to first principles,” continued Mr. Hemster, “I’ve
got a captain who gives me perfect satisfaction, and he hires the crew.
What else can you do?”
“I am qualified to take a place as engineer if your present man isn’t
equally efficient with the captain; and I can guarantee to give
satisfaction as a stoker, although I don’t yearn for the job.”
“My present engineer I got in Glasgow,” said Mr. Hemster; “and as
for stokers we have a mechanical stoker which answers the purpose
reasonably well, although I have several improvements I am going
to patent as soon as I get home. I believe the Scotchman I have as
engineer is the best in the business. I wouldn’t interfere with him for
the world.”
My heart sank, and I began to fear that Yansan and the sampan-boy would
have to wait longer for their money. It seemed that it wasn’t my ship
that had come in, after all.
“Very well, Mr. Hemster,” I said, “I must congratulate you on being so
well suited. I am much obliged to you for receiving me so patiently
without a letter of introduction on my part, and so I bid you good-day.”
I turned for the ladder, but Mr. Hemster said, with more of animation
in his tone than he had hitherto exhibited:
“Wait a moment, sonny; don’t be so hasty. You’ve asked me a good many
questions about the yacht and the crew, so I should like to put some to
you, and who knows but we may make a deal yet. There’s the galley and
the stewards, and that sort of thing, you know. Draw up a chair and sit
down.”
I did as I was requested. Mr. Hemster threw his cigar overboard and
took out another. Then he held out the case toward me, saying:
“Do you smoke?”
“Thank you,” said I, selecting a cigar.
“Have you matches?” he asked, “I never carry them myself.”
“No, I haven’t,” I admitted.
He pushed a button near him, and a Japanese steward appeared.
“Bring a box of matches and a bottle of champagne,” he said.
The steward set a light wicker table at my elbow, disappeared for a few
minutes, and shortly returned with a bottle of champagne and a box of
matches. Did my eyes deceive me, or was this the most noted brand in
the world, and of the vintage of ’78? It seemed too good to be true.
“Would you like a sandwich or two with that wine, or is it too soon
after lunch?”
“I could do with a few sandwiches,” I confessed, thinking of Yansan’s
frugal fare; and shortly after there were placed before me, on a
dainty, white, linen-and-lace-covered plate, some of the most delicious
chicken sandwiches that it has ever been my fortune to taste.
“Now,” said Mr. Hemster, when the steward had disappeared, “you’re on
your uppers, I take it.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“Why, you’re down at bed-rock. Haven’t you been in America? Don’t you
know the language?”
“‘Yes’ is the answer to all your questions.”
“What’s the reason? Drink? Gambling?”
Lord, how good that champagne tasted! I laughed from the pure, dry
exhilaration of it.
“I wish I could say it was drink that brought me to this pass,” I
answered; “for this champagne shows it would be a tempting road to
ruin. I am not a gambler, either. How I came to this pass would not
interest you.”
“Well, I take it that’s just an Englishman’s way of saying it’s none
of my business; but such is not the fact. You want a job, and you have
come to me for it. Very well; I must know something about you. Whether
I can give you a job or not will depend. You have said you could
captain the ship or run her engines. What makes you so confident of
your skill?”
“The fact is I possessed a yacht of my own not so very long ago, and I
captained her and I ran her engines on different occasions.”
“That might be a recommendation, or it might not. If, as captain, you
wrecked your vessel, or if, as engineer, you blew her up, these actions
would hardly be a certificate of competency.”
“I did neither. I sold the yacht in New York for what it would bring.”
“How much money did you have when you bought your yacht?”
“I had what you would call half a million.”
“Why do you say what I would call half a million? What would you call
it?”
“I should call it a hundred thousand.”
“Ah, I see. You’re talking of pounds, and I’m talking of dollars.
You’re an Englishman, I suspect. Are you an educated man?”
“Moderately so. Eton and Oxford,” said I, the champagne beginning to
have its usual effect on a hungry man. However, the announcement of
Eton and Oxford had no effect upon Mr. Hemster, so it did not matter.
“Come, young fellow,” he said, with some impatience, “tell me all about
yourself, and don’t have to be drawn out like a witness on the stand.”
“Very well,” said I, “here is my story. After I left Oxford I had some
little influence, as you might call it.”
“No, a ‘pull,’ I would call it. All right, where did it land you?”
“It landed me as secretary to a Minister of the Crown.”
“You don’t mean a preacher?”
“No, I mean the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and he put me into the
diplomatic service when he found the Government was going to be
defeated. I was secretary of legation at Pekin and also here in Japan.”
I filled myself another glass of champagne, and, holding it up to see
the sparkles, continued jauntily:
“If I may go so far as to boast, I may say I was entrusted with
several delicate missions, and I carried them through with reasonable
success. I can both read and write the Japanese language, and I know a
smattering of Chinese and a few dialects of the East, which have stood
me in good stead more than once. To tell the truth, I was in a fair way
for promotion and honor when unfortunately a relative died and left me
the hundred thousand pounds that I spoke of.”
“Why unfortunately? If you had had any brains you could have made that
into millions.”
“Yes, I suppose I could. I thought I was going to do it. I bought
myself a yacht at Southampton and sailed for New York. To make a long
story short, it was a gold mine and a matter of ten weeks which were
taken up with shooting and fishing in Canada. Then I had the gold
mine and the experience, while the other fellow had the cash. He was
good enough to pay me a trifle for my steam yacht, which, as the
advertisements say, was ‘of no further use to the owner.’”
As I sipped my champagne, the incidents I was relating seemed to recede
farther and farther back and become of little consequence. In fact I
felt like laughing over them, and although in sober moments I should
have called the action of the man who got my money a swindle, under the
influence of dry ’78 his scheme became merely a very clever exercise of
wit. Mr. Hemster was looking steadily at me, and for once his cigar was
almost motionless.
“Well, well,” he murmured, more to himself than to me, “I have always
said the geographical position of New York gives it a tremendous
advantage over Chicago. They never let the fools come West. They have
always the first whack at the moneyed Englishman, and will have until
we get a ship canal that will let the liners through to Chicago direct.
Fleeced in ten weeks! Well, well! Go on, my son. What did you do after
you’d sold your yacht?”
“I took what money I had and made for the West.”
“Came to Chicago?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Just our luck. After you had been well buncoed you came to Chicago. I
swear I’m tempted to settle in New York when I get back.”
“By the West I do not mean Chicago, Mr. Hemster. I went right through
to San Francisco and took a steamer for Japan. I thought my knowledge
of the East and of the languages might be of advantage. I was ashamed
to return to England when I found I could make no headway here. I tried
to bring influence to bear to get reinstated in the diplomatic service,
but my brand of statesman was out of office and nothing could be done.
I lived too expensively here at first, hoping to make an impression and
gain a foothold that was worth having, and when I began to economize
it was too late. I took to living in the native quarter, and descended
from trying to get a clerkship into the position of a man who is
willing to take anything. From my veranda on the hill up yonder I saw
this boat come in, like a white-winged sea-gull, and so I came down,
got into a sampan, and here I am, enjoying the best meal I’ve had for a
long time. ‘Here endeth the first lesson,’” I concluded irreverently,
pouring out another glass of champagne.
Mr. Hemster did not reply for some moments. He was evidently
ruminating, and the end of his cigar went round and round quicker and
quicker.
“What might your name be?” he said at last.
“Rupert Tremorne.”
“Got a handle to it?”
“A title? Oh, no! Plain Mr. Tremorne.”
“I should say, off-hand, that a title runs in your family somewhere.”
“Well; I admit that Lord Tremorne is my cousin, and we have a few
others scattered about. However, there’s little danger of it ever
falling upon me. To tell the truth, the family for the last few years
has no idea where I am, and now that I have lost my money I don’t
suppose they care very much. At least I have seen no advertisements in
the papers, asking for a man of my description.”
“If you were secretary to the Minister of whatever you call it, I don’t
know but what you’d do for me. I am short of a private secretary just
at the present moment, and I think you’d do.”
Whether it was the champagne, or the sandwiches, or the prospect of
getting something to do, and consequently being able to pay my way,
or all three combined, I felt like throwing my hat into the air and
uttering a war-whoop; but something of native stolidity counterbalanced
the effect of the stimulant, and I was astonished to hear myself reply
very quietly:
“It would be folly for a man who had just applied for the position of
stoker to pretend he is not elated at being offered a secretaryship.
It is needless to say, Mr. Hemster, that I accept with alacrity and
gratitude.”
“Then that’s settled,” said the millionaire curtly. “As to the matter
of salary, I think you would be wise to leave that to me. I have paid
out a good deal of money recently and got mighty little for it. If you
can turn the tide so that there is value received, you will find me
liberal in the matter of wages.”
“I am quite content to leave it so,” I rejoined, “but I think I ought
in honesty to tell you, if you are expecting a shrewd business man as
your secretary who will turn the tide of fortune in any way, you are
likely to be disappointed in me. I am afraid I am a very poor business
man.”
“I am aware of that already,” replied Hemster. “I can supply all the
business qualifications that are needed in this new combination. What I
want of you is something entirely different. You said you could speak
more languages than your own?”
“Yes, I am very familiar with French and German, and have also a
smattering of Spanish and Italian. I can read and write Japanese,
speaking that language and Chinese with reasonable fluency, and can
even jabber a little in Corean.”
“Then you’re my man,” said my host firmly. “I suppose now you would not
object to a little something on account?”
“I should be very much obliged indeed if you have confidence enough
in me to make an advance. There are some things I should like to buy
before I come aboard, and, not to put too fine a point to it, there are
some debts I should like to settle.”
“That’s all right,” commented Hemster shortly, thrusting his hand deep
in his trousers pocket, and bringing out a handful of money which
he threw on the wicker table. “There ought to be something like two
hundred dollars there. Just count it and see, and write me a receipt
for it.”
I counted it, and, as I did so, thought he watched me rather keenly out
of the corner of his eye. There was more than two hundred dollars in
the heap, and I told him the amount. The Japanese brought up a sheet of
paper headed with a gorgeous gilt and scarlet monogram and a picture of
the yacht, and I wrote and signed the receipt.
“Do you know anything about the stores in town?” he asked, nodding his
head toward Nagasaki.
“Oh, yes!”
“They tell me Nagasaki is a great place for buying crockery. I wish you
would order sent to the yacht three complete dinner sets, three tea
sets, and three luncheon sets. There is always | 2,274.882493 |
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+----------------------------------------------------+
| BY JOHN COLEMAN ADAMS |
| |
| |
| NATURE STUDIES IN BERKSHIRE |
| |
|_Photogravure Edition_, with 16 illustrations |
| in photogravure. 8º $4.50 |
| |
| Popular Edition, illustrated 2.50 |
| |
| |
| WILLIAM HAMILTON GIBSON |
| ARTIST--NATURALIST--AUTHOR |
| 8º. Fully illustrated. (By mail $2.15) net, $2.00 |
| |
| G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS |
| NEW YORK AND LONDON |
+----------------------------------------------------+
[Illustration: _Frontispiece_
W. Hamilton Gibson]
[Illustration: _William Hamilton Gibson, Age 41_
(_The autograph was always written without lifting the pen, beginning
with the last half of the “H” and ending with the first half_)]
William Hamilton Gibson
Artist--Naturalist--Author
By
John Coleman Adams
Author of “Nature Studies in Berkshire,” etc.
Illustrated
[Illustration]
G. P. Putnam’s Sons
New York and London
The Knickerbocker Press
1901
COPYRIGHT, 1901
BY
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
Dedicated
to
Emma L. B. Gibson
and
Her Sons
THE MOTIVE
Three men have done more than any others to inspire our generation with
the love of nature. They are Henry D. Thoreau, John Burroughs, and
William Hamilton Gibson. Thoreau, when the generation was young,
challenged it to come out of doors, live in a shanty, and see as much of
the world as he saw. John Burroughs, in later years, has acted as guide
to a multitude of minds, eager to be “personally conducted” to field and
forest. William Hamilton Gibson, besides winning many feet into those
“highways and byways” whose charms he taught us to feel, was fortunate
in his exceptional power to bring nature to the very eyes of men in the
works of his pencil, with which he made luminous--literally
“illustrated”--his pages. This alone would be a justification of some
account of his life and work.
But in addition to this claim on the interest of the public, those who
knew him are aware of others;--a personality of singular charm and
forcefulness; a career quite marvelous in its swift and sure
achievements; a genius as rare as it was versatile; a devotion to art
and to study which fairly wore him out in its exactions on his energy;
an ideal which instructs while it shames our sordidness and
materialism. His personality will surely grow upon the American people
as time gives a true perspective to his life and work. Already we can
see something of his conspicuousness and his right to a place in the
foremost group of our nature-prophets. In that great trio, Thoreau is
the philosopher, Burroughs the poet and man of letters, Gibson the
artist-naturalist. In these days when so many are entering into the
inheritance which Gibson helped to secure, it is fitting that
nature-lovers should hear the story of his fruitful life.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A FORTUNATE BOYHOOD 1
II. CALLING AND ELECTION 24
III. A QUICK SUCCESS 49
IV. WITH PENCIL AND BRUSH 81
V. THE OPEN EYE 108
VI. THE ACCIDENT OF AUTHORSHIP 139
VII. THE WORKMAN AND HIS WORK 166
VIII. THE PERSONAL SIDE 200
IX. AFTERGLOW 237
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
WILLIAM HAMILTON GIBSON _Frontispiece_
Age, 41
TO FACE PAGE
THE GUNNERY 6
Washington, Connecticut
WILLIAM HAMILTON GIBSON 18
Age, 13
WILLIAM HAMILTON GIBSON 28
Age, 17
[A]THE ROAD TO HIDE-AND-SEEK TOWN 36
First Composition, 1873
WILLIAM HAMILTON GIBSON 42
Age, 23
[A]“THE PEACOCK’S FEATHER” (“THE PEERLESS
PLUME”) 48
(“Highways and Byways”)
Copyright, 1882, by Harper Brothers
[A]GOD’S MIRACLE 58
By permission of The Curtis Publishing Company
THE SUMACS 80
[A]PEN-AND-INK SKETCH 82
From a Letter
AT THE EASEL 90
Brooklyn Studio
[A]THE STRUGGLE FOR LIFE 98
First Watercolor
[A]“CYPRIPEDIUM ACAULE” 108
(“My Studio Neighbors”)
Copyright, 1897, by Harper Brothers
[A]UPLAND MEADOWS 120
From a Painting
[A]“THE BOBOLINK AT HOME” 130
(“Strolls by Starlight”)
Copyright, 189 | 2,275.004645 |
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[Illustration: AT THE FOOT OF THE CHILKOOT PASS]
ALONG
ALASKA'S GREAT RIVER
A POPULAR ACCOUNT OF THE TRAVELS OF AN ALASKA
EXPLORING EXPEDITION ALONG THE GREAT
YUKON RIVER, FROM ITS SOURCE TO ITS
MOUTH, IN THE BRITISH NORTH-WEST
TERRITORY, AND IN
THE TERRITORY OF
ALASKA.
BY
FREDERICK SCHWATKA,
LAURENTE OF THE PARIS GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY AND OF THE IMPERIAL
GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY OF RUSSIA; HONORARY MEMBER
BREMEN GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY, ETC., ETC., COMMANDER
OF THE EXPEDITION.
TOGETHER WITH THE LATEST INFORMATION ON THE
KLONDIKE COUNTRY.
_FULLY ILLUSTRATED._
CHICAGO NEW YORK
GEORGE M. HILL COMPANY
MDCCCC
COPYRIGHT, 1898,
GEO. M. HILL CO.
PREFACE.
These pages narrate the travels, in a popular sense, of an Alaskan
exploring expedition. The expedition was organized with seven members
at Vancouver Barracks, Washington, and left Portland, Oregon, ascending
through the inland passage to Alaska, as far as the Chilkat country. At
that point the party employed over three score of the Chilkat Indians,
the hardy inhabitants of that ice-bound country, to pack its effects
across the glacier-clad pass of the Alaskan coast range of mountains to
the headwaters of the Yukon. Here a large raft was constructed, and on
this primitive craft, sailing through nearly a hundred and fifty miles
of lakes, and shooting a number of rapids, the party floated along the
great stream for over thirteen hundred miles; the longest raft journey
ever made on behalf of geographical science. The entire river, over two
thousand miles, was traversed, the party returning home by Bering Sea,
and touching the Aleutian Islands.
The opening up of the great gold fields in the region of the upper
Yukon, has added especial interest to everything pertaining to the
great North-west. The Klondike region is the cynosure of the eyes
of all, whether they be in the clutches of the gold fever or not.
The geography, the climate, the scenery, the birds, beasts, and even
flowers of the country make fascinating subjects. In view of the new
discoveries in that part of the world, a new chapter, Chapter XIII, is
given up to a detailed description of the Klondike region. The numerous
routes by which it may be reached are described, and all the details as
to the possibilities and resources of the country are authoritatively
stated.
CHICAGO, March, 1898.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. INTRODUCTORY 9
II. THE INLAND PASSAGE TO ALASKA 12
III. IN THE CHILKAT COUNTRY 36
IV. OVER THE MOUNTAIN PASS 53
V. ALONG THE LAKES 90
VI. A CHAPTER ABOUT RAFTING 131
VII. THE GRAND CAÑON OF THE YUKON 154
VIII. DOWN THE RIVER TO SELKIRK 175
IX. THROUGH THE UPPER RAMPARTS 207
X. THROUGH THE YUKON FLAT-LANDS 264
XI. THROUGH THE LOWER RAMPARTS AND END OF RAFT JOURNEY 289
XII. DOWN THE RIVER AND HOME 313
XIII. THE KLONDIKE REGIONS 346
XIV. DISCOVERY AND HISTORY 368
XV. The People and Their Industries 386
XVI. GEOGRAPHICAL FEATURES 413
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
FRONTISPIECE (DRAWN BY WM. SCHMEDTGEN)
THE INLAND PASSAGE 12
SCENES IN THE INLAND PASSAGE 19
SITKA, ALASKA 29
CHILKAT BRACELET 36
PYRAMID HARBOR, CHILKAT INLET 43
CHILKAT INDIAN PACKER 53
METHODS OF TRACKING A CANOE UP A RAPID 64
CANOEING UP THE DAYAY 65
DAYAY VALLEY, NOURSE RIVER 73
SALMON SPEARS 76
DAYAY VALLEY, FROM CAMP 4 77
WALKING A LOG 80
CHASING A MOUNTAIN GOAT 82
ASCENDING THE PERRIER PASS 85
SNOW SHOES 87
IN A STORM ON THE LAKES 90
LAKE LINDEMAN 93
LAKE BENNETT 101
PINS FOR FASTENING MARMOT SNARES 112
LAKE BOVE 116
LAKE MARSH 121
"STICK" INDIANS 127
"SNUBBING" THE RAFT 131
AMONG THE "SWEEPERS" 134
BANKS OF THE YUKON 135
SCRAPING ALONG A BANK 140
PRYING THE RAFT OFF A BAR 145
COURSE OF RAFT AND AXIS OF STREAM 152
WHIRLPOOL AT LOWER END OF ISLAND 153
GRAYLING 154
GRAND CAÑON 163
THE CASCADES 169
ALASKA BROWN BEAR FIGHTING MOSQUITOS 174
IN THE RINK RAPIDS 175
CLAY BLUFFS ON THE YUKON 176
OUTLET OF LAKE KLUK-TAS-SI 184
THE RINK RAPIDS 191
LORING BLUFF 193
KITL-AH-GON INDIAN VILLAGE 197
INGERSOLL ISLANDS 201
THE RUINS OF SELKIRK 205
IN THE UPPER RAMPARTS 207
MOUTH OF PELLY RIVER 209
LOOKING UP YUKON FROM SELKIRK 213
AYAN GRAVE AT SELKIRK 217
AYAN INDIANS IN CANOES 221
AYAN AND CHILKAT GAMBLING TOOLS 227
PLAN OF AYAN SUMMER HOUSE 229
KON-IT'L AYAN CHIEF 230
AYAN MOOSE ARROW 231
AYAN WINTER TENT 233
A GRAVEL BANK 236
MOOSE-SKIN MOUNTAIN 243
ROQUETTE ROCK 250
KLAT-OL-KLIN VILLAGE 253
FISHING NETS 258
SALMON KILLING CLUB 259
BOUNDARY BUTTE 261
A MOOSE HEAD 264
MOSS ON YUKON RIVER 267
STEAMER "YUKON" 276
INDIAN "CACHE" 289
LOWER RAMPARTS RAPIDS 295
MOUTH OF TANANA 303
NUKLAKAYET 307
THE RAFT, AT END OF ITS JOURNEY 312
INDIAN OUT-DOOR GUN COVERING 313
FALLING BANKS OF YUKON 319
ANVIK 330
OONALASKA 344
THE KLONDIKE GOLD DISCOVERIES 348
AT THE FOOT OF CHILKOOT PASS 350
THE DESCENT OF CHILKOOT PASS 354
A MID-DAY MEAL 358
AT THE HEAD OF LAKE LA BARGE 360
INDIAN PACKERS FORDING A RIVER 364
THE WHITE HORSE RAPIDS 366
ALONG ALASKA'S GREAT RIVER.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
This Alaskan exploring expedition was composed of the following
members: Lieut. Schwatka, U.S.A., commanding; Dr. George F. Wilson,
U.S.A., Surgeon; Topographical Assistant Charles A. Homan, U.S.
Engineers, Topographer and Photographer; Sergeant Charles A. Gloster,
U.S.A., Artist; Corporal Shircliff, U.S.A., in charge of stores;
Private Roth, assistant, and Citizen J. B. McIntosh, a miner, who had
lived in Alaska and was well acquainted with its methods of travel.
Indians and others were added and discharged from time to time as
hereafter noted.
The main object of the expedition was to acquire such information of
the country traversed and its wild inhabitants as would be valuable to
the military authorities in the future, and as a map would be needful
to illustrate such information well, the party's efforts were rewarded
with making the expedition successful in a geographical sense. I
had hoped to be able, through qualified subordinates, to extend our
scientific knowledge of the country explored, especially in regard
to its botany, geology, natural history, etc.; and, although these
subjects would not in any event have been adequately discussed in a
popular treatise like the present, it must be admitted that little was
accomplished in these branches. The explanation of this is as follows:
When authority was asked from Congress for a sum of money to make such
explorations under military supervision and the request was disapproved
by the General of the Army and Secretary of War. This disapproval,
combined with the active opposition of government departments which
were assigned to work of the same general character and coupled with
the reluctance of Congress to make any appropriations whatever that
year, was sufficient to kill such an undertaking. When the military
were withdrawn from Alaska by the President, about the year 1878, a
paragraph appeared at the end of the President's order stating that
no further control would be exercised by the army in Alaska; and this
proviso was variously interpreted by the friends of the army and its
enemies, as a humiliation either to the army or to the President,
according to the private belief of the commentator. It was therefore
seriously debated whether any military expedition or party sent into
that country for any purpose whatever would not be a direct violation
of the President's proscriptive order, and when it was decided to
waive that consideration, and send in a party, it was considered too
much of a responsibility to add any specialists in science, with
the disapproval of the General and the Secretary hardly dry on the
paper. The expedition was therefore, to avoid being recalled, kept as
secret as possible, and when, on May 22d, it departed from Portland,
Oregon, upon the _Victoria_, a vessel which had been specially put on
the Alaska route, only a two or three line notice had gotten into
the Oregon papers announcing the fact; a notice that in spreading
was referred to in print by one government official as "a junketing
party," by another as a "prospecting" party, while another bitterly
acknowledged that had he received another day's intimation he could
have had the party recalled by the authorities at Washington. Thus the
little expedition which gave the first complete survey to the third[1]
river of our country stole away like a thief in the night and with far
less money in its hands to conduct it through its long journey than was
afterward appropriated by Congress to publish its report.
[1] The largest river on the North American continent so far as this
mighty stream flows within our boundaries.... The people of the United
States will not be quick to take to the idea that the volume of water
in an Alaskan river is greater than that discharged by the mighty
Mississippi; but it is entirely within the bounds of honest statement
to say that the Yukon river... discharges every hour one-third more
water than the "Father of Waters."--Petroff's Government Report on
Alaska.
Leaving Portland at midnight on the 22d, the _Victoria_ arrived at
Astoria at the mouth of the Columbia the forenoon of the 23d, the
remaining hours of daylight being employed in loading with supplies for
a number of salmon canneries in Alaska, the large amount of freight for
which had necessitated this extra steamer. That night we crossed the
Columbia River bar and next morning entered the Strait of Juan de Fuca,
the southern entrance from the Pacific Ocean which leads to the inland
passage to Alaska.
CHAPTER II.
THE INLAND PASSAGE TO ALASKA.
[Illustration]
"The Inland Passage" to Alaska is the fjörd-like channel, resembling a
great river, which extends from the north-western part of Washington
Territory, through British Columbia, into south-eastern Alaska.
Along this coast line for about a thousand miles, stretches a vast
archipelago closely hugging the mainland of the Territories named
above, the southernmost important island being Vancouver, almost a
diminutive continent in itself, while to the north Tchichagoff Island
limits it on the seaboard.
From the little town of Olympia at the head of Puget Sound, in
Washington Territory, to Chilkat, Alaska, at the head of Lynn Channel,
or Canal, one sails as if on a grand river, and it is really hard to
comprehend that it is a portion of the ocean unless one can imagine
some deep fjörd in Norway or Greenland, so deep that he can sail on its
waters for a fortnight, for the fjörd-like character is very prominent
in these channels to which the name of "Inland Passage" is usually
given.
These channels between the islands and mainland are strikingly uniform
in width, and therefore river-like in appearance as one steams or
sails through, them. At occasional points they | 2,275.287587 |
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produced from images available at The Internet Archive)
THE SORCERESS.
THE SORCERESS.
A Novel.
BY
MRS. OLIPHANT,
AUTHOR OF
“THE CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD,”
“THE CUCKOO IN THE NEST,”
ETC., ETC.
_IN THREE VOLUMES._
VOL. II.
LONDON:
F. V. WHITE & Co.,
31, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C.
1893.
[_ALL RIGHTS RESERVED_]
PRINTED BY
TILLOTSON AND SON, BOLTON,
LONDON, NEW YORK, AND BERLIN.
THE SORCERESS.
CHAPTER I.
IT was perhaps a very good thing for Bee at this distracting and
distracted moment of her life, that her mother’s illness came in to fill
up every thought. Her own little fabric of happiness crumbled down about
her ears like a house of cards, only as it was far more deeply founded
and strongly built, the downfall was with a rumbling that shook the
earth and a dust that rose up to the skies. Heaven was blurred out to
her by the rising clouds, and all the earth was full of the noise, like
an earthquake, of the falling walls. She could not get that sound out of
her ears even in Mrs. Kingsward’s sick room, where the quiet was
preternatural, and everybody spoke in the lowest tone, and every step
was hushed. Even then it went on roaring, the stones and the rafters
flying, the storms of dust and ruin blackening the air, so that Bee
could not but wonder that nobody saw them, that the atmosphere was not
thick and stifling with those _debris_ that were continually falling
about her own ears. For everything was coming down; not only the idol
and the shrine he abode in, but heaven and earth, in which she felt that
no truth, no faith, could dwell any longer. Who was there to believe in?
Not any man if not Aubrey; not any goodness, any truth, if not his--not
anything! For it was without object, without warning, for nothing at
all, that he had deserted her, as if it had been of no importance: with
the ink not dry on his letter, with her name still upon his lips. A
great infidelity, like a great faith, is always something. It is tragic,
one of the awful events of life in which there is, or may be, fate; an
evil destiny, a terrible chastisement prepared beforehand. In such a
case one can at least feel one’s self only a great victim, injured by
God himself and the laws of the universe, though that was not the common
fashion of thought then, as it is now-a-days. But Bee’s downfall did not
mean so much as that it was not intended by anyone--not even by the
chief worker in it. He had meant to hold Bee fast with one hand while he
amused himself with the other. Amused himself--oh, heaven! Bee’s heart
seemed to contract with a speechless spasm of anguish and rage. That she
should be of no more account than that! Played with as if she were
nobody--the slight creature of a moment. She, Bee! She, Colonel
Kingsward’s daughter!
At first the poor girl went on in a mist of self-absorption, through
which everything else pierced but dully, wrapped up and hidden in it as
in the storm which would have arisen had the house actually fallen about
her ears, perceiving her mother through it, and the doctor, and all the
accessories of the scene--but dimly, not as if they were real. When,
however, there began to penetrate through this, strange words, with
strange meanings in them: “Danger”--danger to whom?--“Strength
failing”--but whose strength?--a dull wonder came in, bringing her back
to other thoughts. By-and-by, Bee began to understand a little that it
was of her mother of whom these things were being said. Her mother? But
it was not her mother’s house that had fallen; what did it mean? The
doctor talked apart with Moulsey, and Moulsey turned her back, and her
shoulders heaved, and her apron seemed to be put to her eyes. Bee, in
her dream said, half aloud, “Danger?” and both the doctor and Moulsey
turned upon her as if they would have killed her. Then she was beckoned
out of the room, and found herself standing face to face with that grave
yet kindly countenance which she had known all her life, in which she
believed as in the greatest authority. She heard his voice speaking to
her through all the rumbling and downfall.
“You must be very courageous,” it said, “You are the eldest, and till
your father comes home----”
What did it matter about her father coming home, or about her being the
eldest? What had all these things to do with the earthquake, with the
failure of truth, and meaning, and everything in life? She looked at him
blankly, wondering if it were possible that he did not hear the sound of
the great falling, the rending of the walls, and the tearing of the
roof, and the choking dust that filled all earth and heaven.
“My dear Beatrice,” he said, for he had known her all his life, “you
don’t understand me, do you, my poor child?”
Bee shook her head, looking at him wistfully. Could he know anything
more about it, she wondered--anything that had still to be said?
He took her hand, and her poor little hand was very cold with emotion
and trouble. The good doctor, who knew nothing about any individual
cause little Bee could have for agitation, thought he saw that her very
being was arrested by a terror which as yet her intelligence had not
grasped; something dreadful in the air which she did not understand. He
drew her into the dining-room, the door of which stood open, and poured
out a little wine for her. “Now, Bee,” he said, “no fainting, no
weakness. You must prove what is in you now. It is a dreadful trial for
you, my dear, but you can do a great deal for your dear mother’s sake,
as she would for yours.”
“I have never said it was a trial,” cried Bee, with a gasp. “Why do you
speak to me so? Has mamma told you? No one has anything to do with it
but me.”
He looked at her with great surprise, but the doctor was a man of too
much experience not to see that here was something into which it was
better not to inquire. He said, very quietly, “You, as the eldest, have
no doubt the chief part to play; but the little ones will all depend
upon your strength and courage. Your mother does not herself know. She
is very ill. It will require all that we can do--to pull her through.”
Bee repeated the last words after him with a scared look, but scarcely
any understanding in her face--“To pull her--through?”
“Don’t you understand me now? Your mother--has been ill for a long time.
Your father is aware of it. I suppose he thought you were too young to
be told. But now that he is absent, and your brother, I have no
alternative. Your mother is in great danger. I have telegraphed for
Colonel Kingsward, but in the meantime, Bee--child, don’t lose your
head! Do you understand me? She may be dying, and you are the only one
to stand by her, to give her courage.”
Bee did not look as if she had courage for anyone at that dreadful
moment. She fell a-trembling from head to foot and fell back against the
wall where she was standing. Her eyes grew large, staring at him yet
veiled as if they did not see--and she stammered forth at length,
“Mother, mother!” with almost no meaning, in the excess of misery and
surprise.
“Yes, your mother; whatever else you may have to think of, she is the
first consideration now.”
He went on speaking, but Bee did not hear him; everything floated around
her in a mist. The scenes at the Bath, the agitations, Mrs. Kingsward’s
sudden pallors and flushings, her pretence, which they all laughed at,
of not being able to walk; her laziness, lying on the sofa, the
giddiness when she made that one turn with Charlie, she who had always
been so fond of dancing; the hurry of bringing her to Kingswarden when
Bee had felt they would have been so much better in London, and her
strange, strange new fancy, mutely condemned by Bee, of finding the
children too much for her. Half of these things had been silently
remarked and disapproved of by the daughters. Mamma getting so
idle--self-indulgent almost, so unlike herself! Had they not been too
busily engaged in their own affairs, Bee | 2,275.401709 |
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Anne's House of Dreams
by
Lucy Maud Montgomery
"To Laura, in memory of the olden time."
CONTENTS
Chapter
1 IN THE GARRET OF GREEN GABLES
2 THE HOUSE OF DREAMS
3 THE LAND OF DREAMS AMONG
4 THE FIRST BRIDE OF GREEN GABLES
5 THE HOME COMING
6 CAPTAIN JIM
7 THE SCHOOLMASTER'S BRIDE
8 MISS CORNELIA BRYANT COMES TO CALL
9 AN EVENING AT FOUR WINDS POINT
10 LESLIE MOORE
11 THE STORY OF LESLIE MOORE
12 LESLIE COMES OVER
13 A GHOSTLY EVENING
14 NOVEMBER DAYS
15 CHRISTMAS AT FOUR WINDS
16 NEW YEAR'S EVE AT THE LIGHT
17 A FOUR WINDS WINTER
18 SPRING DAYS
19 DAWN AND DUSK
20 LOST MARGARET
21 BARRIERS SWEPT AWAY
22 MISS CORNELIA ARRANGES MATTERS
23 OWEN FORD COMES
24 THE LIFE-BOOK OF CAPTAIN JIM
25 THE WRITING OF THE BOOK
26 OWEN FORD'S CONFESSION
27 ON THE SAND BAR
28 ODDS AND ENDS
29 GILBERT AND ANNE DISAGREE
30 LESLIE DECIDES
31 THE TRUTH MAKES FREE
32 MISS CORNELIA DISCUSSES THE AFFAIR
33 LESLIE RETURNS
34 THE SHIP O'DREAMS COMES TO HARBOR
35 POLITICS AT FOUR WINDS
36 BEAUTY FOR ASHES
38 RED ROSES
39 CAPTAIN JIM CROSSES THE BAR
40 FAREWELL TO THE HOUSE OF DREAMS
CHAPTER 1
IN THE GARRET OF GREEN GABLES
"Thanks be, I'm done with geometry, learning or teaching it," said Anne
Shirley, a trifle vindictively, as she thumped a somewhat battered
volume of Euclid into a big chest of books, banged the lid in triumph,
and sat down upon it, looking at Diana Wright across the Green Gables
garret, with gray eyes that were like a morning sky.
The garret was a shadowy, suggestive, delightful place, as all garrets
should be. Through the open window, by which Anne sat, blew the sweet,
scented, sun-warm air of the August afternoon; outside, poplar boughs
rustled and tossed in the wind; beyond them were the woods, where
Lover's Lane wound its enchanted path, and the old apple orchard which
still bore its rosy harvests munificently. And, over all, was a great
mountain range of snowy clouds in the blue southern sky. Through the
other window was glimpsed a distant, white-capped, blue sea--the
beautiful St. Lawrence Gulf, on which floats, like a jewel, Abegweit,
whose softer, swe | 2,275.644563 |
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THE NURSERY RHYMES OF ENGLAND.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE NURSERY RHYMES OF ENGLAND:
Collected by
JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL.
THE NURSERY RHYMES
OF
ENGLAND.
BY JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY W. B. SCOTT.
[Illustration]
LONDON AND NEW YORK: FREDERICK WARNE AND CO.
1886.
[Illustration]
PREFACE
TO THE
FIFTH EDITION.
The great encouragement which has been given by the public to the
previous editions of this little work, satisfactorily proves that,
notwithstanding the extension of serious education to all but the very
earliest periods of life, there still exists an undying love for the
popular remnants of the ancient Scandinavian nursery literature.
The infants and children of the nineteenth century have not, then,
deserted the rhymes chanted so many ages since by the mothers of the
North. This is a "great nursery fact"--a proof that there is contained
in some of these traditional nonsense-rhymes a meaning and a romance,
possibly intelligible only to very young minds, that exercise an
influence on the fancy of children. It is obvious there must exist
something of this kind; for no modern compositions are found to supply
altogether the place of the ancient doggerel.
The nursery rhyme is the novel and light reading of the infant
scholar. It occupies, with respect to the A B C, the position of a
romance which relieves the mind from the cares of a riper age.
The absurdity and frivolity of a rhyme may naturally be its chief
attractions to the very young; and there will be something lost from
the imagination of that child, whose parents insist so much on matters
of fact, that the "cow" must be made, in compliance with the rules
of their educational code, to jump "_under_" instead of "_over_ the
moon;" while of course the little dog must be considered as "barking,"
not "laughing" at the circumstance.
These, or any such objections,--for it seems there are others of
about equal weight,--are, it appears to me, more silly than the worst
nursery rhyme the little readers will meet with in the following
pages. I am quite willing to leave the question to their decision,
feeling assured the catering for them has not been in vain, and
that these cullings from the high-ways and bye-ways--they have been
collected from nearly every county in England--will be to them real
flowers, soothing the misery of many an hour of infantine adversity.
[Illustration]
NURSERY RHYMES.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
FIRST CLASS--HISTORICAL 1
SECOND CLASS--LITERAL 14
THIRD CLASS--TALES 22
FOURTH CLASS--PROVERBS 68
FIFTH CLASS--SCHOLASTIC 76
SIXTH CLASS--SONGS 82
SEVENTH CLASS--RIDDLES 119
EIGHTH CLASS--CHARMS 135
NINTH CLASS--GAFFERS AND GAMMERS 141
TENTH CLASS--GAMES 154
ELEVENTH CLASS--PARADOXES 196
TWELFTH CLASS--LULLABIES 205
THIRTEENTH CLASS--JINGLES 213
FOURTEENTH CLASS--LOVE AND MATRIMONY 224
FIFTEENTH CLASS--NATURAL HISTORY 251
SIXTEENTH CLASS--ACCUMULATIVE STORIES 282
SEVENTEENTH CLASS--LOCAL 299
EIGHTEENTH CLASS--RELICS 303
INDEX 317
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
FIRST CLASS--HISTORICAL.
I.
Old King Cole
Was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Every fiddler, he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he;
Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee, went the fiddlers.
Oh, there's none so rare,
As can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three!
[The traditional Nursery Rhymes of England commence with a
legendary satire on King Cole, who reigned in Britain, as the
old chroniclers inform us, in the third century after Christ.
According to Robert of Gloucester, he was the father of
St. Helena, and if so, Butler must be wrong in ascribing an
obscure origin to the celebrated mother of Constantine. King
Cole was a brave and popular man in his day, and ascended
the throne of Britain on the death of Asclepiod, amidst
the acclamations of the people, or, as Robert of Gloucester
expresses himself, the "fole was tho of this lond y-paid wel
y-nou." At Colchester there is a large earthwork, supposed to
have been a Roman amphitheatre, which goes popularly by
the name of "King Cole's kitchen." According to Jeffrey of
Monmouth, King Cole's daughter was well skilled in music, but
we unfortunately have no evidence to show that her father was
attached to that science, further than what is contained in
the foregoing lines, which are of doubtful antiquity. The
following version of the song is of the seventeenth century,
the one given above being probably a modernization:--
Good King Cole,
He call'd for his bowl,
And he call'd for fidlers three:
And there was fiddle fiddle,
And twice fiddle fiddle,
For 'twas my lady's birth-day;
Therefore we keep holiday,
And come to be merry.]
II.
When good king Arthur ruled this land,
He was a goodly king;
He stole three pecks of barley-meal,
To make a bag-pudding.
A bag-pudding the king did make,
And stuff'd it well with plums:
And in it put great lumps of fat,
As big as my two thumbs.
The king and queen did eat thereof,
And noblemen beside;
And what they could not eat that night,
The queen next morning fried.
III.
[The following song relating to Robin Hood, the celebrated
outlaw, is well known at Worksop, in Nottinghamshire, where it
constitutes one of the nursery series.]
Robin Hood, Robin Hood,
Is in the mickle wood!
Little John, Little John,
He to the town is gone.
Robin Hood, Robin Hood,
Is telling his beads,
All in the green wood,
Among the green weeds.
Little John, Little John,
If he comes no more,
Robin Hood, Robin Hood,
He will fret full sore!
IV.
[The following lines were obtained in Oxfordshire. The story
to which it alludes is related by Matthew Paris.]
One moonshiny night
As I sat high,
Waiting for one
To come by;
The boughs did bend,
My heart did ache
To see what hole the fox did make.
V.
[The following perhaps refers to Joanna of Castile, who
visited the court of Henry the Seventh, in the year 1506.]
I had a little nut tree, nothing would it bear
But a silver nutmeg and a golden pear;
The king of Spain's daughter came to visit me,
And all was because of my little nut tree.
I skipp'd over water, I danced over sea,
And all the birds in the air couldn't catch me.
VI.
[From a MS. in the old Royal Library, in the British Museum,
the exact reference to which is mislaid. It is written, if I
recollect rightly, in a hand of the time of Henry VIII, in an
older manuscript.]
We make no spare
Of John Hunkes' mare;
And now I
Think she will die;
He thought it good
To put her in the wood,
To seek where she might ly dry;
If the mare should chance to fale,
Then the crownes would for her sale.
VII.
[From MS. Sloane, 1489, fol. 19, written in the time of
Charles I.]
The king of France, and four thousand men,
They drew their swords, and put them up again.
VIII.
[In a tract, called 'Pigges Corantoe, or Newes from the
North,' 4to Lond. 1642, p. 3, this is called "Old Tarlton's
Song." It is perhaps a parody on the popular epigram of "Jack
and Jill." I do not know the period of the battle to which it
appears to allude, but Tarlton died in the year 1588, so that
the rhyme must be earlier.]
The king of France went up the hill,
With twenty thousand men;
| 2,275.67986 |
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Uniform with British Orations
AMERICAN ORATIONS, to illustrate American Political
History, edited, with introductions, by ALEXANDER
JOHNSTON, Professor of Jurisprudence and Political
Economy in the College of New Jersey. 3 vols., 16 mo,
$3.75.
PROSE MASTERPIECES FROM MODERN ESSAYISTS, comprising
single specimen essays from IRVING, LEIGH HUNT,
LAMB, DE QUINCEY, LANDOR, SYDNEY SMITH, THACKERAY,
EMERSON, ARNOLD, MORLEY, HELPS, KINGSLEY,
RUSKIN, LOWELL, CARLYLE, MACAULAY, FROUDE, FREEMAN,
GLADSTONE, NEWMAN, LESLIE STEPHEN. 3 vols., 16 mo,
bevelled boards, $3.75 and $4.50.
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS, NEW YORK AND LONDON
REPRESENTATIVE
BRITISH ORATIONS
WITH
INTRODUCTIONS AND EXPLANATORY NOTES
BY
CHARLES KENDALL ADAMS
_Videtisne quantum munus sit oratoris historia?_
—CICERO, _DeOratore_, ii, 15
✩✩
NEW YORK & LONDON
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
The Knickerbocker Press
1884
COPYRIGHT
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
1884.
Press of
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
New York
CONTENTS.
PAGE
WILLIAM PITT 1
WILLIAM PITT 19
ON HIS REFUSAL TO NEGOTIATE WITH NAPOLEON BONAPARTE; HOUSE
OF COMMONS, FEBRUARY 3, 1800.
CHARLES JAMES FOX 99
CHARLES JAMES FOX 108
ON THE REJECTION OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE’S OVERTURES OF
PEACE; HOUSE OF COMMONS, FEBRUARY 3, 1800.
SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH 176
SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH 185
IN BEHALF OF FREE SPEECH. ON THE TRIAL OF JEAN PELTIER,
ACCUSED OF LIBELLING NAPOLEON BONAPARTE; COURT OF
KING’S BENCH, FEBRUARY 21, 1803.
LORD ERSKINE 262
LORD ERSKINE 273
ON THE LIMITATIONS OF FREE SPEECH; DELIVERED IN 1797
ON THE TRIAL OF WILLIAMS FOR PUBLICATION OF PAINE’S
“AGE OF REASON.”
WILLIAM PITT.
The younger Pitt was the second son of Lord Chatham, and was seven
years of age when his father in 1766 was admitted to the peerage. The
boy’s earliest peculiarity was an absorbing ambition to become his
father’s successor as the first orator of the day. His health, however,
was so delicate as to cause the gravest apprehensions. Stanhope tells
us that before he was fourteen “half of his time was lost through ill
health,” and that his early life at Cambridge was “one long disease.”
There is still extant a remarkable letter that reveals better than any
thing else the fond hopes of the father and the physical discouragement
as well as the mental aspirations of the son. Chatham wrote: “Though
I indulge with inexpressible delight the thought of your returning
health, I cannot help being a little in pain lest you should make more
haste than good speed to be well. How happy the task, my noble, amiable
boy, to caution you only against pursuing too much all those liberal
and praiseworthy things, to which less happy natures are perpetually
to be spurred and driven. I will not tease you with too long a lecture
in favor of inaction and a competent stupidity, your two best tutors
and companions at present. You have time to spare; consider, there
is but the Encyclopædia, and when you have mastered that, what will
remain?” The intimations of precocity here given were fully justified
by the extraordinary progress made by the boy notwithstanding his
bodily ailments. He entered the University of Cambridge at fourteen,
and such was his scholarship at that time that his tutor wrote: “It is
no uncommon thing for him to read into English six or eight pages of
Thuc | 2,275.780129 |
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THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY
_THE_
HARLOT'S PROGRESS
THEOPHILUS CIBBER
(_1733_)
_and_
_THE_
RAKE'S PROGRESS
(_MS., Ca. 1778-1780_)
_Introduction by_
MARY F. KLINGER
PUBLICATION NUMBER _181_
WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES
_1977_
GENERAL EDITORS
William E. Conway, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
George Robert Guffey, University of California, Los Angeles
Maximillian E. Novak, University of California, Los Angeles
David Stuart Rodes, University of California, Los Angeles
ADVISORY EDITORS
James L. Clifford, Columbia University
Ralph Cohen, University of Virginia
Vinton A. Dearing, University of California, Los Angeles
Arthur Friedman, University of Chicago
Louis A. Landa, Princeton University
Earl Miner, Princeton University
Samuel H. Monk, University of Minnesota
Everett T. Moore, University of California, Los Angeles
Lawrence Clark Powell, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
James Sutherland, University College, London
H. T. Swedenberg, Jr., University of California, Los Angeles
Robert Vosper, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
CORRESPONDING SECRETARY
Beverly J. Onley, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
EDITORIAL ASSISTANT
Frances M. Reed, University of California, Los Angeles
INTRODUCTION
The prints and engraved sequences of William Hogarth (1697-1764)
inspired a wide range of dramatic entertainments throughout the
eighteenth century. The types include comedy of manners (_The
Clandestine Marriage_, 1766), burletta with _tableau vivant_ (_Ut
Pictura Poesis!_ 1789), specialty act (_A Modern Midnight Conversation_,
1742), cantata (_The Roast Beef of Old England_, ca. 1759), ballad opera
(_The Decoy_),[1] pantomime (_The Jew Decoy'd_ and _The Harlot's
Progress_, 1733), and a morality ballad opera (_The Rake's Progress_,
ca. 1778-1780). Two of these are reprinted here. Theophilus Cibber's
"Grotesque Pantomime Entertainment" of Hogarth's six-scene series "A
Har | 2,275.866272 |
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