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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/698-0.txt b/698-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b575cff --- /dev/null +++ b/698-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6015 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin, by Robert Louis +Stevenson + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin + + +Author: Robert Louis Stevenson + + + +Release Date: September 14, 2012 [eBook #698] +[This file was first posted on October 25, 1996] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIR OF FLEEMING JENKIN*** + + +Transcribed from the 1901 Charles Scribner’s Sons edition by David Price, +email ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + MEMOIR + OF + FLEEMING JENKIN + + + * * * * * + + BY + ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON + + * * * * * + + NEW YORK + CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS + 1901 + + + + +PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. + + +ON the death of Fleeming Jenkin, his family and friends determined to +publish a selection of his various papers; by way of introduction, the +following pages were drawn up; and the whole, forming two considerable +volumes, has been issued in England. In the States, it has not been +thought advisable to reproduce the whole; and the memoir appearing alone, +shorn of that other matter which was at once its occasion and its +justification, so large an account of a man so little known may seem to a +stranger out of all proportion. But Jenkin was a man much more +remarkable than the mere bulk or merit of his work approves him. It was +in the world, in the commerce of friendship, by his brave attitude +towards life, by his high moral value and unwearied intellectual effort, +that he struck the minds of his contemporaries. His was an individual +figure, such as authors delight to draw, and all men to read of, in the +pages of a novel. His was a face worth painting for its own sake. If +the sitter shall not seem to have justified the portrait, if Jenkin, +after his death, shall not continue to make new friends, the fault will +be altogether mine. + + R. L S. + +SARANAC, _Oct._, 1887. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The Jenkins of Stowting—Fleeming’s grandfather—Mrs. Buckner’s +fortune—Fleeming’s father; goes to sea; at St. Helena; meets King Tom; +service in the West Indies; end of his career—The +Campbell-Jacksons—Fleeming’s mother—Fleeming’s uncle John. + +IN the reign of Henry VIII., a family of the name of Jenkin, claiming to +come from York, and bearing the arms of Jenkin ap Philip of St. Melans, +are found reputably settled in the county of Kent. Persons of strong +genealogical pinion pass from William Jenkin, Mayor of Folkestone in +1555, to his contemporary ‘John Jenkin, of the Citie of York, Receiver +General of the County,’ and thence, by way of Jenkin ap Philip, to the +proper summit of any Cambrian pedigree—a prince; ‘Guaith Voeth, Lord of +Cardigan,’ the name and style of him. It may suffice, however, for the +present, that these Kentish Jenkins must have undoubtedly derived from +Wales, and being a stock of some efficiency, they struck root and grew to +wealth and consequence in their new home. + +Of their consequence we have proof enough in the fact that not only was +William Jenkin (as already mentioned) Mayor of Folkestone in 1555, but no +less than twenty-three times in the succeeding century and a half, a +Jenkin (William, Thomas, Henry, or Robert) sat in the same place of +humble honour. Of their wealth we know that in the reign of Charles I., +Thomas Jenkin of Eythorne was more than once in the market buying land, +and notably, in 1633, acquired the manor of Stowting Court. This was an +estate of some 320 acres, six miles from Hythe, in the Bailiwick and +Hundred of Stowting, and the Lathe of Shipway, held of the Crown _in +capite_ by the service of six men and a constable to defend the passage +of the sea at Sandgate. It had a chequered history before it fell into +the hands of Thomas of Eythorne, having been sold and given from one to +another—to the Archbishop, to Heringods, to the Burghershes, to Pavelys, +Trivets, Cliffords, Wenlocks, Beauchamps, Nevilles, Kempes, and Clarkes: +a piece of Kentish ground condemned to see new faces and to be no man’s +home. But from 1633 onward it became the anchor of the Jenkin family in +Kent; and though passed on from brother to brother, held in shares +between uncle and nephew, burthened by debts and jointures, and at least +once sold and bought in again, it remains to this day in the hands of the +direct line. It is not my design, nor have I the necessary knowledge, to +give a history of this obscure family. But this is an age when genealogy +has taken a new lease of life, and become for the first time a human +science; so that we no longer study it in quest of the Guaith Voeths, but +to trace out some of the secrets of descent and destiny; and as we study, +we think less of Sir Bernard Burke and more of Mr. Galton. Not only do +our character and talents lie upon the anvil and receive their temper +during generations; but the very plot of our life’s story unfolds itself +on a scale of centuries, and the biography of the man is only an episode +in the epic of the family. From this point of view I ask the reader’s +leave to begin this notice of a remarkable man who was my friend, with +the accession of his great-grandfather, John Jenkin. + +This John Jenkin, a grandson of Damaris Kingsley, of the family of +‘Westward Ho!’ was born in 1727, and married Elizabeth, daughter of +Thomas Frewen, of Church House, Northiam. The Jenkins had now been long +enough intermarrying with their Kentish neighbours to be Kentish folk +themselves in all but name; and with the Frewens in particular their +connection is singularly involved. John and his wife were each descended +in the third degree from another Thomas Frewen, Vicar of Northiam, and +brother to Accepted Frewen, Archbishop of York. John’s mother had +married a Frewen for a second husband. And the last complication was to +be added by the Bishop of Chichester’s brother, Charles Buckner, +Vice-Admiral of the White, who was twice married, first to a paternal +cousin of Squire John, and second to Anne, only sister of the Squire’s +wife, and already the widow of another Frewen. The reader must bear Mrs. +Buckner in mind; it was by means of that lady that Fleeming Jenkin began +life as a poor man. Meanwhile, the relationship of any Frewen to any +Jenkin at the end of these evolutions presents a problem almost +insoluble; and we need not wonder if Mrs. John, thus exercised in her +immediate circle, was in her old age ‘a great genealogist of all Sussex +families, and much consulted.’ The names Frewen and Jenkin may almost +seem to have been interchangeable at will; and yet Fate proceeds with +such particularity that it was perhaps on the point of name that the +family was ruined. + +The John Jenkins had a family of one daughter and five extravagant and +unpractical sons. The eldest, Stephen, entered the Church and held the +living of Salehurst, where he offered, we may hope, an extreme example of +the clergy of the age. He was a handsome figure of a man; jovial and +jocular; fond of his garden, which produced under his care the finest +fruits of the neighbourhood; and like all the family, very choice in +horses. He drove tandem; like Jehu, furiously. His saddle horse, +Captain (for the names of horses are piously preserved in the family +chronicle which I follow), was trained to break into a gallop as soon as +the vicar’s foot was thrown across its back; nor would the rein be drawn +in the nine miles between Northiam and the Vicarage door. Debt was the +man’s proper element; he used to skulk from arrest in the chancel of his +church; and the speed of Captain may have come sometimes handy. At an +early age this unconventional parson married his cook, and by her he had +two daughters and one son. One of the daughters died unmarried; the +other imitated her father, and married ‘imprudently.’ The son, still +more gallantly continuing the tradition, entered the army, loaded himself +with debt, was forced to sell out, took refuge in the Marines, and was +lost on the Dogger Bank in the war-ship _Minotaur_. If he did not marry +below him, like his father, his sister, and a certain great-uncle +William, it was perhaps because he never married at all. + +The second brother, Thomas, who was employed in the General Post-Office, +followed in all material points the example of Stephen, married ‘not very +creditably,’ and spent all the money he could lay his hands on. He died +without issue; as did the fourth brother, John, who was of weak intellect +and feeble health, and the fifth brother, William, whose brief career as +one of Mrs. Buckner’s satellites will fall to be considered later on. So +soon, then, as the _Minotaur_ had struck upon the Dogger Bank, Stowting +and the line of the Jenkin family fell on the shoulders of the third +brother, Charles. + +Facility and self-indulgence are the family marks; facility (to judge by +these imprudent marriages) being at once their quality and their defect; +but in the case of Charles, a man of exceptional beauty and sweetness +both of face and disposition, the family fault had quite grown to be a +virtue, and we find him in consequence the drudge and milk-cow of his +relatives. Born in 1766, Charles served at sea in his youth, and smelt +both salt water and powder. The Jenkins had inclined hitherto, as far as +I can make out, to the land service. Stephen’s son had been a soldier; +William (fourth of Stowting) had been an officer of the unhappy +Braddock’s in America, where, by the way, he owned and afterwards sold an +estate on the James River, called, after the parental seat; of which I +should like well to hear if it still bears the name. It was probably by +the influence of Captain Buckner, already connected with the family by +his first marriage, that Charles Jenkin turned his mind in the direction +of the navy; and it was in Buckner’s own ship, the _Prothée_, 64, that +the lad made his only campaign. It was in the days of Rodney’s war, when +the _Prothée_, we read, captured two large privateers to windward of +Barbadoes, and was ‘materially and distinguishedly engaged’ in both the +actions with De Grasse. While at sea Charles kept a journal, and made +strange archaic pilot-book sketches, part plan, part elevation, some of +which survive for the amusement of posterity. He did a good deal of +surveying, so that here we may perhaps lay our finger on the beginning of +Fleeming’s education as an engineer. What is still more strange, among +the relics of the handsome midshipman and his stay in the gun-room of the +_Prothée_, I find a code of signals graphically represented, for all the +world as it would have been done by his grandson. + +On the declaration of peace, Charles, because he had suffered from +scurvy, received his mother’s orders to retire; and he was not the man to +refuse a request, far less to disobey a command. Thereupon he turned +farmer, a trade he was to practice on a large scale; and we find him +married to a Miss Schirr, a woman of some fortune, the daughter of a +London merchant. Stephen, the not very reverend, was still alive, +galloping about the country or skulking in his chancel. It does not +appear whether he let or sold the paternal manor to Charles; one or +other, it must have been; and the sailor-farmer settled at Stowting, with +his wife, his mother, his unmarried sister, and his sick brother John. +Out of the six people of whom his nearest family consisted, three were in +his own house, and two others (the horse-leeches, Stephen and Thomas) he +appears to have continued to assist with more amiability than wisdom. He +hunted, belonged to the Yeomanry, owned famous horses, Maggie and Lucy, +the latter coveted by royalty itself. ‘Lord Rokeby, his neighbour, +called him kinsman,’ writes my artless chronicler, ‘and altogether life +was very cheery.’ At Stowting his three sons, John, Charles, and Thomas +Frewen, and his younger daughter, Anna, were all born to him; and the +reader should here be told that it is through the report of this second +Charles (born 1801) that he has been looking on at these confused +passages of family history. + +In the year 1805 the ruin of the Jenkins was begun. It was the work of a +fallacious lady already mentioned, Aunt Anne Frewen, a sister of Mrs. +John. Twice married, first to her cousin Charles Frewen, clerk to the +Court of Chancery, Brunswick Herald, and Usher of the Black Rod, and +secondly to Admiral Buckner, she was denied issue in both beds, and being +very rich—she died worth about 60,000_l._, mostly in land—she was in +perpetual quest of an heir. The mirage of this fortune hung before +successive members of the Jenkin family until her death in 1825, when it +dissolved and left the latest Alnaschar face to face with bankruptcy. +The grandniece, Stephen’s daughter, the one who had not ‘married +imprudently,’ appears to have been the first; for she was taken abroad by +the golden aunt, and died in her care at Ghent in 1792. Next she adopted +William, the youngest of the five nephews; took him abroad with her—it +seems as if that were in the formula; was shut up with him in Paris by +the Revolution; brought him back to Windsor, and got him a place in the +King’s Body-Guard, where he attracted the notice of George III. by his +proficiency in German. In 1797, being on guard at St. James’s Palace, +William took a cold which carried him off; and Aunt Anne was once more +left heirless. Lastly, in 1805, perhaps moved by the Admiral, who had a +kindness for his old midshipman, perhaps pleased by the good looks and +the good nature of the man himself, Mrs. Buckner turned her eyes upon +Charles Jenkin. He was not only to be the heir, however, he was to be +the chief hand in a somewhat wild scheme of family farming. Mrs. Jenkin, +the mother, contributed 164 acres of land; Mrs. Buckner, 570, some at +Northiam, some farther off; Charles let one-half of Stowting to a tenant, +and threw the other and various scattered parcels into the common +enterprise; so that the whole farm amounted to near upon a thousand +acres, and was scattered over thirty miles of country. The ex-seaman of +thirty-nine, on whose wisdom and ubiquity the scheme depended, was to +live in the meanwhile without care or fear. He was to check himself in +nothing; his two extravagances, valuable horses and worthless brothers, +were to be indulged in comfort; and whether the year quite paid itself or +not, whether successive years left accumulated savings or only a growing +deficit, the fortune of the golden aunt should in the end repair all. + +On this understanding Charles Jenkin transported his family to Church +House, Northiam: Charles the second, then a child of three, among the +number. Through the eyes of the boy we have glimpses of the life that +followed: of Admiral and Mrs. Buckner driving up from Windsor in a coach +and six, two post-horses and their own four; of the house full of +visitors, the great roasts at the fire, the tables in the servants’ hall +laid for thirty or forty for a month together; of the daily press of +neighbours, many of whom, Frewens, Lords, Bishops, Batchellors, and +Dynes, were also kinsfolk; and the parties ‘under the great spreading +chestnuts of the old fore court,’ where the young people danced and made +merry to the music of the village band. Or perhaps, in the depth of +winter, the father would bid young Charles saddle his pony; they would +ride the thirty miles from Northiam to Stowting, with the snow to the +pony’s saddle girths, and be received by the tenants like princes. + +This life of delights, with the continual visible comings and goings of +the golden aunt, was well qualified to relax the fibre of the lads. +John, the heir, a yeoman and a fox-hunter, ‘loud and notorious with his +whip and spurs,’ settled down into a kind of Tony Lumpkin, waiting for +the shoes of his father and his aunt. Thomas Frewen, the youngest, is +briefly dismissed as ‘a handsome beau’; but he had the merit or the good +fortune to become a doctor of medicine, so that when the crash came he +was not empty-handed for the war of life. Charles, at the day-school of +Northiam, grew so well acquainted with the rod, that his floggings became +matter of pleasantry and reached the ears of Admiral Buckner. Hereupon +that tall, rough-voiced, formidable uncle entered with the lad into a +covenant: every time that Charles was thrashed he was to pay the Admiral +a penny; everyday that he escaped, the process was to be reversed. ‘I +recollect,’ writes Charles, ‘going crying to my mother to be taken to the +Admiral to pay my debt.’ It would seem by these terms the speculation +was a losing one; yet it is probable it paid indirectly by bringing the +boy under remark. The Admiral was no enemy to dunces; he loved courage, +and Charles, while yet little more than a baby, would ride the great +horse into the pond. Presently it was decided that here was the stuff of +a fine sailor; and at an early period the name of Charles Jenkin was +entered on a ship’s books. + +From Northiam he was sent to another school at Boonshill, near Rye, where +the master took ‘infinite delight’ in strapping him. ‘It keeps me warm +and makes you grow,’ he used to say. And the stripes were not altogether +wasted, for the dunce, though still very ‘raw,’ made progress with his +studies. It was known, moreover, that he was going to sea, always a +ground of pre-eminence with schoolboys; and in his case the glory was not +altogether future, it wore a present form when he came driving to Rye +behind four horses in the same carriage with an admiral. ‘I was not a +little proud, you may believe,’ says he. + +In 1814, when he was thirteen years of age, he was carried by his father +to Chichester to the Bishop’s Palace. The Bishop had heard from his +brother the Admiral that Charles was likely to do well, and had an order +from Lord Melville for the lad’s admission to the Royal Naval College at +Portsmouth. Both the Bishop and the Admiral patted him on the head and +said, ‘Charles will restore the old family’; by which I gather with some +surprise that, even in these days of open house at Northiam and golden +hope of my aunt’s fortune, the family was supposed to stand in need of +restoration. But the past is apt to look brighter than nature, above all +to those enamoured of their genealogy; and the ravages of Stephen and +Thomas must have always given matter of alarm. + +What with the flattery of bishops and admirals, the fine company in which +he found himself at Portsmouth, his visits home, with their gaiety and +greatness of life, his visits to Mrs. Buckner (soon a widow) at Windsor, +where he had a pony kept for him, and visited at Lord Melville’s and Lord +Harcourt’s and the Leveson-Gowers, he began to have ‘bumptious notions,’ +and his head was ‘somewhat turned with fine people’; as to some extent it +remained throughout his innocent and honourable life. + +In this frame of mind the boy was appointed to the _Conqueror_, Captain +Davie, humorously known as Gentle Johnnie. The captain had earned this +name by his style of discipline, which would have figured well in the +pages of Marryat: ‘Put the prisoner’s head in a bag and give him another +dozen!’ survives as a specimen of his commands; and the men were often +punished twice or thrice in a week. On board the ship of this +disciplinarian, Charles and his father were carried in a billy-boat from +Sheerness in December, 1816: Charles with an outfit suitable to his +pretensions, a twenty-guinea sextant and 120 dollars in silver, which +were ordered into the care of the gunner. ‘The old clerks and mates,’ he +writes, ‘used to laugh and jeer me for joining the ship in a billy-boat, +and when they found I was from Kent, vowed I was an old Kentish smuggler. +This to my pride, you will believe, was not a little offensive.’ + +The _Conqueror_ carried the flag of Vice-Admiral Plampin, commanding at +the Cape and St. Helena; and at that all-important islet, in July, 1817, +she relieved the flagship of Sir Pulteney Malcolm. Thus it befel that +Charles Jenkin, coming too late for the epic of the French wars, played a +small part in the dreary and disgraceful afterpiece of St. Helena. Life +on the guard-ship was onerous and irksome. The anchor was never lifted, +sail never made, the great guns were silent; none was allowed on shore +except on duty; all day the movements of the imperial captive were +signalled to and fro; all night the boats rowed guard around the +accessible portions of the coast. This prolonged stagnation and petty +watchfulness in what Napoleon himself called that ‘unchristian’ climate, +told cruelly on the health of the ship’s company. In eighteen months, +according to O’Meara, the _Conqueror_ had lost one hundred and ten men +and invalided home one hundred and seven, being more than a third of her +complement. It does not seem that our young midshipman so much as once +set eyes on Bonaparte; and yet in other ways Jenkin was more fortunate +than some of his comrades. He drew in water-colour; not so badly as his +father, yet ill enough; and this art was so rare aboard the _Conqueror_ +that even his humble proficiency marked him out and procured him some +alleviations. Admiral Plampin had succeeded Napoleon at the Briars; and +here he had young Jenkin staying with him to make sketches of the +historic house. One of these is before me as I write, and gives a +strange notion of the arts in our old English Navy. Yet it was again as +an artist that the lad was taken for a run to Rio, and apparently for a +second outing in a ten-gun brig. These, and a cruise of six weeks to +windward of the island undertaken by the _Conqueror_ herself in quest of +health, were the only breaks in three years of murderous inaction; and at +the end of that period Jenkin was invalided home, having ‘lost his health +entirely.’ + +As he left the deck of the guard-ship the historic part of his career +came to an end. For forty-two years he continued to serve his country +obscurely on the seas, sometimes thanked for inconspicuous and honourable +services, but denied any opportunity of serious distinction. He was +first two years in the _Larne_, Captain Tait, hunting pirates and keeping +a watch on the Turkish and Greek squadrons in the Archipelago. Captain +Tait was a favourite with Sir Thomas Maitland, High Commissioner of the +Ionian Islands—King Tom as he was called—who frequently took passage in +the _Larne_. King Tom knew every inch of the Mediterranean, and was a +terror to the officers of the watch. He would come on deck at night; and +with his broad Scotch accent, ‘Well, sir,’ he would say, ‘what depth of +water have ye? Well now, sound; and ye’ll just find so or so many +fathoms,’ as the case might be; and the obnoxious passenger was generally +right. On one occasion, as the ship was going into Corfu, Sir Thomas +came up the hatchway and cast his eyes towards the gallows. +‘Bangham’—Charles Jenkin heard him say to his aide-de-camp, Lord +Bangham—‘where the devil is that other chap? I left four fellows hanging +there; now I can only see three. Mind there is another there to-morrow.’ +And sure enough there was another Greek dangling the next day. ‘Captain +Hamilton, of the _Cambrian_, kept the Greeks in order afloat,’ writes my +author, ‘and King Tom ashore.’ + +From 1823 onward, the chief scene of Charles Jenkin’s activities was in +the West Indies, where he was engaged off and on till 1844, now as a +subaltern, now in a vessel of his own, hunting out pirates, ‘then very +notorious’ in the Leeward Islands, cruising after slavers, or carrying +dollars and provisions for the Government. While yet a midshipman, he +accompanied Mr. Cockburn to Caraccas and had a sight of Bolivar. In the +brigantine _Griffon_, which he commanded in his last years in the West +Indies, he carried aid to Guadeloupe after the earthquake, and twice +earned the thanks of Government: once for an expedition to Nicaragua to +extort, under threat of a blockade, proper apologies and a sum of money +due to certain British merchants; and once during an insurrection in San +Domingo, for the rescue of certain others from a perilous imprisonment +and the recovery of a ‘chest of money’ of which they had been robbed. +Once, on the other hand, he earned his share of public censure. This was +in 1837, when he commanded the _Romney_ lying in the inner harbour of +Havannah. The _Romney_ was in no proper sense a man-of-war; she was a +slave-hulk, the bonded warehouse of the Mixed Slave Commission; where +negroes, captured out of slavers under Spanish colours, were detained +provisionally, till the Commission should decide upon their case and +either set them free or bind them to apprenticeship. To this ship, +already an eye-sore to the authorities, a Cuban slave made his escape. +The position was invidious; on one side were the tradition of the British +flag and the state of public sentiment at home; on the other, the +certainty that if the slave were kept, the _Romney_ would be ordered at +once out of the harbour, and the object of the Mixed Commission +compromised. Without consultation with any other officer, Captain Jenkin +(then lieutenant) returned the man to shore and took the +Captain-General’s receipt. Lord Palmerston approved his course; but the +zealots of the anti-slave trade movement (never to be named without +respect) were much dissatisfied; and thirty-nine years later, the matter +was again canvassed in Parliament, and Lord Palmerston and Captain Jenkin +defended by Admiral Erskine in a letter to the _Times_ (March 13, 1876). + +In 1845, while still lieutenant, Charles Jenkin acted as Admiral Pigot’s +flag captain in the Cove of Cork, where there were some thirty pennants; +and about the same time, closed his career by an act of personal bravery. +He had proceeded with his boats to the help of a merchant vessel, whose +cargo of combustibles had taken fire and was smouldering under hatches; +his sailors were in the hold, where the fumes were already heavy, and +Jenkin was on deck directing operations, when he found his orders were no +longer answered from below: he jumped down without hesitation and slung +up several insensible men with his own hand. For this act, he received a +letter from the Lords of the Admiralty expressing a sense of his +gallantry; and pretty soon after was promoted Commander, superseded, and +could never again obtain employment. + +In 1828 or 1829, Charles Jenkin was in the same watch with another +midshipman, Robert Colin Campbell Jackson, who introduced him to his +family in Jamaica. The father, the Honourable Robert Jackson, Custos +Rotulorum of Kingston, came of a Yorkshire family, said to be originally +Scotch; and on the mother’s side, counted kinship with some of the +Forbeses. The mother was Susan Campbell, one of the Campbells of +Auchenbreck. Her father Colin, a merchant in Greenock, is said to have +been the heir to both the estate and the baronetcy; he claimed neither, +which casts a doubt upon the fact, but he had pride enough himself, and +taught enough pride to his family, for any station or descent in +Christendom. He had four daughters. One married an Edinburgh writer, as +I have it on a first account—a minister, according to another—a man at +least of reasonable station, but not good enough for the Campbells of +Auchenbreck; and the erring one was instantly discarded. Another married +an actor of the name of Adcock, whom (as I receive the tale) she had seen +acting in a barn; but the phrase should perhaps be regarded rather as a +measure of the family annoyance, than a mirror of the facts. The +marriage was not in itself unhappy; Adcock was a gentleman by birth and +made a good husband; the family reasonably prospered, and one of the +daughters married no less a man than Clarkson Stanfield. But by the +father, and the two remaining Miss Campbells, people of fierce passions +and a truly Highland pride, the derogation was bitterly resented. For +long the sisters lived estranged then, Mrs. Jackson and Mrs. Adcock were +reconciled for a moment, only to quarrel the more fiercely; the name of +Mrs. Adcock was proscribed, nor did it again pass her sister’s lips, +until the morning when she announced: ‘Mary Adcock is dead; I saw her in +her shroud last night.’ Second sight was hereditary in the house; and +sure enough, as I have it reported, on that very night Mrs. Adcock had +passed away. Thus, of the four daughters, two had, according to the +idiotic notions of their friends, disgraced themselves in marriage; the +others supported the honour of the family with a better grace, and +married West Indian magnates of whom, I believe, the world has never +heard and would not care to hear: So strange a thing is this hereditary +pride. Of Mr. Jackson, beyond the fact that he was Fleeming’s +grandfather, I know naught. His wife, as I have said, was a woman of +fierce passions; she would tie her house slaves to the bed and lash them +with her own hand; and her conduct to her wild and down-going sons, was a +mixture of almost insane self-sacrifice and wholly insane violence of +temper. She had three sons and one daughter. Two of the sons went +utterly to ruin, and reduced their mother to poverty. The third went to +India, a slim, delicate lad, and passed so wholly from the knowledge of +his relatives that he was thought to be long dead. Years later, when his +sister was living in Genoa, a red-bearded man of great strength and +stature, tanned by years in India, and his hands covered with barbaric +gems, entered the room unannounced, as she was playing the piano, lifted +her from her seat, and kissed her. It was her brother, suddenly returned +out of a past that was never very clearly understood, with the rank of +general, many strange gems, many cloudy stories of adventure, and next +his heart, the daguerreotype of an Indian prince with whom he had mixed +blood. + +The last of this wild family, the daughter, Henrietta Camilla, became the +wife of the midshipman Charles, and the mother of the subject of this +notice, Fleeming Jenkin. She was a woman of parts and courage. Not +beautiful, she had a far higher gift, the art of seeming so; played the +part of a belle in society, while far lovelier women were left +unattended; and up to old age had much of both the exigency and the charm +that mark that character. She drew naturally, for she had no training, +with unusual skill; and it was from her, and not from the two naval +artists, that Fleeming inherited his eye and hand. She played on the +harp and sang with something beyond the talent of an amateur. At the age +of seventeen, she heard Pasta in Paris; flew up in a fire of youthful +enthusiasm; and the next morning, all alone and without introduction, +found her way into the presence of the _prima donna_ and begged for +lessons. Pasta made her sing, kissed her when she had done, and though +she refused to be her mistress, placed her in the hands of a friend. Nor +was this all, for when Pasta returned to Paris, she sent for the girl +(once at least) to test her progress. But Mrs. Jenkin’s talents were not +so remarkable as her fortitude and strength of will; and it was in an art +for which she had no natural taste (the art of literature) that she +appeared before the public. Her novels, though they attained and merited +a certain popularity both in France and England, are a measure only of +her courage. They were a task, not a beloved task; they were written for +money in days of poverty, and they served their end. In the least thing +as well as in the greatest, in every province of life as well as in her +novels, she displayed the same capacity of taking infinite pains, which +descended to her son. When she was about forty (as near as her age was +known) she lost her voice; set herself at once to learn the piano, +working eight hours a day; and attained to such proficiency that her +collaboration in chamber music was courted by professionals. And more +than twenty years later, the old lady might have been seen dauntlessly +beginning the study of Hebrew. This is the more ethereal part of +courage; nor was she wanting in the more material. Once when a +neighbouring groom, a married man, had seduced her maid, Mrs. Jenkin +mounted her horse, rode over to the stable entrance and horsewhipped the +man with her own hand. + +How a match came about between this talented and spirited girl and the +young midshipman, is not very I easy to conceive. Charles Jenkin was one +of the finest creatures breathing; loyalty, devotion, simple natural +piety, boyish cheerfulness, tender and manly sentiment in the old sailor +fashion, were in him inherent and inextinguishable either by age, +suffering, or injustice. He looked, as he was, every inch a gentleman; +he must have been everywhere notable, even among handsome men, both for +his face and his gallant bearing; not so much that of a sailor, you would +have said, as like one of those gentle and graceful soldiers that, to +this day, are the most pleasant of Englishmen to see. But though he was +in these ways noble, the dunce scholar of Northiam was to the end no +genius. Upon all points that a man must understand to be a gentleman, to +be upright, gallant, affectionate and dead to self, Captain Jenkin was +more knowing than one among a thousand; outside of that, his mind was +very largely blank. He had indeed a simplicity that came near to +vacancy; and in the first forty years of his married life, this want grew +more accentuated. In both families imprudent marriages had been the +rule; but neither Jenkin nor Campbell had ever entered into a more +unequal union. It was the captain’s good looks, we may suppose, that +gained for him this elevation; and in some ways and for many years of his +life, he had to pay the penalty. His wife, impatient of his incapacity +and surrounded by brilliant friends, used him with a certain contempt. +She was the managing partner; the life was hers, not his; after his +retirement they lived much abroad, where the poor captain, who could +never learn any language but his own, sat in the corner mumchance; and +even his son, carried away by his bright mother, did not recognise for +long the treasures of simple chivalry that lay buried in the heart of his +father. Yet it would be an error to regard this marriage as unfortunate. +It not only lasted long enough to justify itself in a beautiful and +touching epilogue, but it gave to the world the scientific work and what +(while time was) were of far greater value, the delightful qualities of +Fleeming Jenkin. The Kentish-Welsh family, facile, extravagant, generous +to a fault and far from brilliant, had given the father, an extreme +example of its humble virtues. On the other side, the wild, cruel, +proud, and somewhat blackguard stock of the Scotch Campbell-Jacksons, had +put forth, in the person of the mother all its force and courage. + +The marriage fell in evil days. In 1823, the bubble of the Golden Aunt’s +inheritance had burst. She died holding the hand of the nephew she had +so wantonly deceived; at the last she drew him down and seemed to bless +him, surely with some remorseful feeling; for when the will was opened, +there was not found so much as the mention of his name. He was deeply in +debt; in debt even to the estate of his deceiver, so that he had to sell +a piece of land to clear himself. ‘My dear boy,’ he said to Charles, +‘there will be nothing left for you. I am a ruined man.’ And here +follows for me the strangest part of this story. From the death of the +treacherous aunt, Charles Jenkin, senior, had still some nine years to +live; it was perhaps too late for him to turn to saving, and perhaps his +affairs were past restoration. But his family at least had all this +while to prepare; they were still young men, and knew what they had to +look for at their father’s death; and yet when that happened in +September, 1831, the heir was still apathetically waiting. Poor John, +the days of his whips and spurs, and Yeomanry dinners, were quite over; +and with that incredible softness of the Jenkin nature, he settled down +for the rest of a long life, into something not far removed above a +peasant. The mill farm at Stowting had been saved out of the wreck; and +here he built himself a house on the Mexican model, and made the two ends +meet with rustic thrift, gathering dung with his own hands upon the road +and not at all abashed at his employment. In dress, voice, and manner, +he fell into mere country plainness; lived without the least care for +appearances, the least regret for the past or discontentment with the +present; and when he came to die, died with Stoic cheerfulness, +announcing that he had had a comfortable time and was yet well pleased to +go. One would think there was little active virtue to be inherited from +such a race; and yet in this same voluntary peasant, the special gift of +Fleeming Jenkin was already half developed. The old man to the end was +perpetually inventing; his strange, ill-spelled, unpunctuated +correspondence is full (when he does not drop into cookery receipts) of +pumps, road engines, steam-diggers, steam-ploughs, and steam-threshing +machines; and I have it on Fleeming’s word that what he did was full of +ingenuity—only, as if by some cross destiny, useless. These +disappointments he not only took with imperturbable good humour, but +rejoiced with a particular relish over his nephew’s success in the same +field. ‘I glory in the professor,’ he wrote to his brother; and to +Fleeming himself, with a touch of simple drollery, ‘I was much pleased +with your lecture, but why did you hit me so hard with Conisure’s’ +(connoisseur’s, _quasi_ amateur’s) ‘engineering? Oh, what +presumption!—either of you or _my_self!’ A quaint, pathetic figure, this +of uncle John, with his dung cart and his inventions; and the romantic +fancy of his Mexican house; and his craze about the Lost Tribes which +seemed to the worthy man the key of all perplexities; and his quiet +conscience, looking back on a life not altogether vain, for he was a good +son to his father while his father lived, and when evil days approached, +he had proved himself a cheerful Stoic. + +It followed from John’s inertia, that the duty of winding up the estate +fell into the hands of Charles. He managed it with no more skill than +might be expected of a sailor ashore, saved a bare livelihood for John +and nothing for the rest. Eight months later, he married Miss Jackson; +and with her money, bought in some two-thirds of Stowting. In the +beginning of the little family history which I have been following to so +great an extent, the Captain mentions, with a delightful pride: ‘A Court +Baron and Court Leet are regularly held by the Lady of the Manor, Mrs. +Henrietta Camilla Jenkin’; and indeed the pleasure of so describing his +wife, was the most solid benefit of the investment; for the purchase was +heavily encumbered and paid them nothing till some years before their +death. In the meanwhile, the Jackson family also, what with wild sons, +an indulgent mother and the impending emancipation of the slaves, was +moving nearer and nearer to beggary; and thus of two doomed and declining +houses, the subject of this memoir was born, heir to an estate and to no +money, yet with inherited qualities that were to make him known and +loved. + + + + +CHAPTER II. 1833–1851. + + +Birth and Childhood—Edinburgh—Frankfort-on-the-Main—Paris—The Revolution +of 1848—The Insurrection—Flight to Italy—Sympathy with Italy—The +Insurrection in Genoa—A Student in Genoa—The Lad and his Mother. + +HENRY CHARLES FLEEMING JENKIN (Fleeming, pronounced Flemming, to his +friends and family) was born in a Government building on the coast of +Kent, near Dungeness, where his father was serving at the time in the +Coastguard, on March 25, 1833, and named after Admiral Fleeming, one of +his father’s protectors in the navy. + +His childhood was vagrant like his life. Once he was left in the care of +his grandmother Jackson, while Mrs. Jenkin sailed in her husband’s ship +and stayed a year at the Havannah. The tragic woman was besides from +time to time a member of the family she was in distress of mind and +reduced in fortune by the misconduct of her sons; her destitution and +solitude made it a recurring duty to receive her, her violence +continually enforced fresh separations. In her passion of a disappointed +mother, she was a fit object of pity; but her grandson, who heard her +load his own mother with cruel insults and reproaches, conceived for her +an indignant and impatient hatred, for which he blamed himself in later +life. It is strange from this point of view to see his childish letters +to Mrs. Jackson; and to think that a man, distinguished above all by +stubborn truthfulness, should have been brought up to such dissimulation. +But this is of course unavoidable in life; it did no harm to Jenkin; and +whether he got harm or benefit from a so early acquaintance with violent +and hateful scenes, is more than I can guess. The experience, at least, +was formative; and in judging his character it should not be forgotten. +But Mrs. Jackson was not the only stranger in their gates; the Captain’s +sister, Aunt Anna Jenkin, lived with them until her death; she had all +the Jenkin beauty of countenance, though she was unhappily deformed in +body and of frail health; and she even excelled her gentle and +ineffectual family in all amiable qualities. So that each of the two +races from which Fleeming sprang, had an outpost by his very cradle; the +one he instinctively loved, the other hated; and the life-long war in his +members had begun thus early by a victory for what was best. + +We can trace the family from one country place to another in the south of +Scotland; where the child learned his taste for sport by riding home the +pony from the moors. Before he was nine he could write such a passage as +this about a Hallowe’en observance: ‘I pulled a middling-sized +cabbage-runt with a pretty sum of gold about it. No witches would run +after me when I was sowing my hempseed this year; my nuts blazed away +together very comfortably to the end of their lives, and when mamma put +hers in which were meant for herself and papa they blazed away in the +like manner.’ Before he was ten he could write, with a really irritating +precocity, that he had been ‘making some pictures from a book called “Les +Français peints par euxmêmes.” . . . It is full of pictures of all +classes, with a description of each in French. The pictures are a little +caricatured, but not much.’ Doubtless this was only an echo from his +mother, but it shows the atmosphere in which he breathed. It must have +been a good change for this art critic to be the playmate of Mary +Macdonald, their gardener’s daughter at Barjarg, and to sup with her +family on potatoes and milk; and Fleeming himself attached some value to +this early and friendly experience of another class. + +His education, in the formal sense, began at Jedburgh. Thence he went to +the Edinburgh Academy, where he was the classmate of Tait and Clerk +Maxwell, bore away many prizes, and was once unjustly flogged by Rector +Williams. He used to insist that all his bad schoolfellows had died +early, a belief amusingly characteristic of the man’s consistent +optimism. In 1846 the mother and son proceeded to Frankfort-on-the-Main, +where they were soon joined by the father, now reduced to inaction and to +play something like third fiddle in his narrow household. The +emancipation of the slaves had deprived them of their last resource +beyond the half-pay of a captain; and life abroad was not only desirable +for the sake of Fleeming’s education, it was almost enforced by reasons +of economy. But it was, no doubt, somewhat hard upon the captain. +Certainly that perennial boy found a companion in his son; they were both +active and eager, both willing to be amused, both young, if not in years, +then in character. They went out together on excursions and sketched old +castles, sitting side by side; they had an angry rivalry in walking, +doubtless equally sincere upon both sides; and indeed we may say that +Fleeming was exceptionally favoured, and that no boy had ever a companion +more innocent, engaging, gay, and airy. But although in this case it +would be easy to exaggerate its import, yet, in the Jenkin family also, +the tragedy of the generations was proceeding, and the child was growing +out of his father’s knowledge. His artistic aptitude was of a different +order. Already he had his quick sight of many sides of life; he already +overflowed with distinctions and generalisations, contrasting the +dramatic art and national character of England, Germany, Italy, and +France. If he were dull, he would write stories and poems. ‘I have +written,’ he says at thirteen, ‘a very long story in heroic measure, 300 +lines, and another Scotch story and innumerable bits of poetry’; and at +the same age he had not only a keen feeling for scenery, but could do +something with his pen to call it up. I feel I do always less than +justice to the delightful memory of Captain Jenkin; but with a lad of +this character, cutting the teeth of his intelligence, he was sure to +fall into the background. + +The family removed in 1847 to Paris, where Fleeming was put to school +under one Deluc. There he learned French, and (if the captain is right) +first began to show a taste for mathematics. But a far more important +teacher than Deluc was at hand; the year 1848, so momentous for Europe, +was momentous also for Fleeming’s character. The family politics were +Liberal; Mrs. Jenkin, generous before all things, was sure to be upon the +side of exiles; and in the house of a Paris friend of hers, Mrs. +Turner—already known to fame as Shelley’s Cornelia de Boinville—Fleeming +saw and heard such men as Manin, Gioberti, and the Ruffinis. He was thus +prepared to sympathise with revolution; and when the hour came, and he +found himself in the midst of stirring and influential events, the lad’s +whole character was moved. He corresponded at that time with a young +Edinburgh friend, one Frank Scott; and I am here going to draw somewhat +largely on this boyish correspondence. It gives us at once a picture of +the Revolution and a portrait of Jenkin at fifteen; not so different (his +friends will think) from the Jenkin of the end—boyish, simple, +opinionated, delighting in action, delighting before all things in any +generous sentiment. + + ‘February 23, 1848. + + ‘When at 7 o’clock to-day I went out, I met a large band going round + the streets, calling on the inhabitants to illuminate their houses, + and bearing torches. This was all very good fun, and everybody was + delighted; but as they stopped rather long and were rather turbulent + in the Place de la Madeleine, near where we live’ [in the Rue + Caumartin] ‘a squadron of dragoons came up, formed, and charged at a + hand-gallop. This was a very pretty sight; the crowd was not too + thick, so they easily got away; and the dragoons only gave blows with + the back of the sword, which hurt but did not wound. I was as close + to them as I am now to the other side of the table; it was rather + impressive, however. At the second charge they rode on the pavement + and knocked the torches out of the fellows’ hands; rather a shame, + too—wouldn’t be stood in England. . . . + + [At] ‘ten minutes to ten . . . I went a long way along the + Boulevards, passing by the office of Foreign Affairs, where Guizot + lives, and where to-night there were about a thousand troops + protecting him from the fury of the populace. After this was passed, + the number of the people thickened, till about half a mile further + on, I met a troop of vagabonds, the wildest vagabonds in the + world—Paris vagabonds, well armed, having probably broken into + gunsmiths’ shops and taken the guns and swords. They were about a + hundred. These were followed by about a thousand (I am rather + diminishing than exaggerating numbers all through), indifferently + armed with rusty sabres, sticks, etc. An uncountable troop of + gentlemen, workmen, shopkeepers’ wives (Paris women dare anything), + ladies’ maids, common women—in fact, a crowd of all classes, though + by far the greater number were of the better dressed class—followed. + Indeed, it was a splendid sight: the mob in front chanting the + “_Marseillaise_,” the national war hymn, grave and powerful, + sweetened by the night air—though night in these splendid streets was + turned into day, every window was filled with lamps, dim torches were + tossing in the crowd . . . for Guizot has late this night given in + his resignation, and this was an improvised illumination. + + ‘I and my father had turned with the crowd, and were close behind the + second troop of vagabonds. Joy was on every face. I remarked to + papa that “I would not have missed the scene for anything, I might + never see such a splendid one,” when _plong_ went one shot—every face + went pale—_r-r-r-r-r_ went the whole detachment, [and] the whole + crowd of gentlemen and ladies turned and cut. Such a scene!—ladies, + gentlemen, and vagabonds went sprawling in the mud, not shot but + tripped up; and those that went down could not rise, they were + trampled over. . . . I ran a short time straight on and did not fall, + then turned down a side street, ran fifty yards and felt tolerably + safe; looked for papa, did not see him; so walked on quickly, giving + the news as I went.’ [It appears, from another letter, the boy was + the first to carry word of the firing to the Rue St. Honoré; and that + his news wherever he brought it was received with hurrahs. It was an + odd entrance upon life for a little English lad, thus to play the + part of rumour in such a crisis of the history of France.] + + ‘But now a new fear came over me. I had little doubt but my papa was + safe, but my fear was that he should arrive at home before me and + tell the story; in that case I knew my mamma would go half mad with + fright, so on I went as quick as possible. I heard no more + discharges. When I got half way home, I found my way blocked up by + troops. That way or the Boulevards I must pass. In the Boulevards + they were fighting, and I was afraid all other passages might be + blocked up . . . and I should have to sleep in a hotel in that case, + and then my mamma—however, after a long _détour_, I found a passage + and ran home, and in our street joined papa. + + ‘. . . I’ll tell you to-morrow the other facts gathered from + newspapers and papa. . . . Tonight I have given you what I have seen + with my own eyes an hour ago, and began trembling with excitement and + fear. If I have been too long on this one subject, it is because it + is yet before my eyes. + + ‘Monday, 24. + + ‘It was that fire raised the people. There was fighting all through + the night in the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette, on the Boulevards where + they had been shot at, and at the Porte St. Denis. At ten o’clock, + they resigned the house of the Minister of Foreign Affairs (where the + disastrous volley was fired) to the people, who immediately took + possession of it. I went to school, but [was] hardly there when the + row in that quarter commenced. Barricades began to be fixed. + Everyone was very grave now; the _externes_ went away, but no one + came to fetch me, so I had to stay. No lessons could go on. A troop + of armed men took possession of the barricades, so it was supposed I + should have to sleep there. The revolters came and asked for arms, + but Deluc (head-master) is a National Guard, and he said he had only + his own and he wanted them; but he said he would not fire on them. + Then they asked for wine, which he gave them. They took good care + not to get drunk, knowing they would not be able to fight. They were + very polite and behaved extremely well. + + ‘About 12 o’clock a servant came for a boy who lived near me, [and] + Deluc thought it best to send me with him. We heard a good deal of + firing near, but did not come across any of the parties. As we + approached the railway, the barricades were no longer formed of + palings, planks, or stones; but they had got all the omnibuses as + they passed, sent the horses and passengers about their business, and + turned them over. A double row of overturned coaches made a capital + barricade, with a few paving stones. + + ‘When I got home I found to my astonishment that in our fighting + quarter it was much quieter. Mamma had just been out seeing the + troops in the Place de la Concorde, when suddenly the Municipal + Guard, now fairly exasperated, prevented the National Guard from + proceeding, and fired at them; the National Guard had come with their + muskets not loaded, but at length returned the fire. Mamma saw the + National Guard fire. The Municipal Guard were round the corner. She + was delighted for she saw no person killed, though many of the + Municipals were. . . . . + + ‘I immediately went out with my papa (mamma had just come back with + him) and went to the Place de la Concorde. There was an enormous + quantity of troops in the Place. Suddenly the gates of the gardens + of the Tuileries opened: we rushed forward, out gallopped an enormous + number of cuirassiers, in the middle of which were a couple of low + carriages, said first to contain the Count de Paris and the Duchess + of Orleans, but afterwards they said it was the King and Queen; and + then I heard he had abdicated. I returned and gave the news. + + ‘Went out again up the Boulevards. The house of the Minister of + Foreign Affairs was filled with people and “_Hôtel du Peuple_” + written on it; the Boulevards were barricaded with fine old trees + that were cut down and stretched all across the road. We went + through a great many little streets, all strongly barricaded, and + sentinels of the people at the principal of them. The streets were + very unquiet, filled with armed men and women, for the troops had + followed the ex-King to Neuilly and left Paris in the power of the + people. We met the captain of the Third Legion of the National Guard + (who had principally protected the people), badly wounded by a + Municipal Guard, stretched on a litter. He was in possession of his + senses. He was surrounded by a troop of men crying “Our brave + captain—we have him yet—he’s not dead! _Vive la Réforme_!” This cry + was responded to by all, and every one saluted him as he passed. I + do not know if he was mortally wounded. That Third Legion has + behaved splendidly. + + ‘I then returned, and shortly afterwards went out again to the garden + of the Tuileries. They were given up to the people and the palace + was being sacked. The people were firing blank cartridges to testify + their joy, and they had a cannon on the top of the palace. It was a + sight to see a palace sacked and armed vagabonds firing out of the + windows, and throwing shirts, papers, and dresses of all kinds out of + the windows. They are not rogues, these French; they are not + stealing, burning, or doing much harm. In the Tuileries they have + dressed up some of the statues, broken some, and stolen nothing but + queer dresses. I say, Frank, you must not hate the French; hate the + Germans if you like. The French laugh at us a little, and call out + _Goddam_ in the streets; but to-day, in civil war, when they might + have put a bullet through our heads, I never was insulted once. + + ‘At present we have a provisional Government, consisting of Odion + [_sic_] Barrot, Lamartine, Marast, and some others; among them a + common workman, but very intelligent. This is a triumph of + liberty—rather! + + ‘Now then, Frank, what do you think of it? I in a revolution and out + all day. Just think, what fun! So it was at first, till I was fired + at yesterday; but to-day I was not frightened, but it turned me sick + at heart, I don’t know why. There has been no great bloodshed, + [though] I certainly have seen men’s blood several times. But + there’s something shocking to see a whole armed populace, though not + furious, for not one single shop has been broken open, except the + gunsmiths’ shops, and most of the arms will probably be taken back + again. For the French have no cupidity in their nature; they don’t + like to steal—it is not in their nature. I shall send this letter in + a day or two, when I am sure the post will go again. I know I have + been a long time writing, but I hope you will find the matter of this + letter interesting, as coming from a person resident on the spot; + though probably you don’t take much interest in the French, but I can + think, write, and speak on no other subject. + + ‘Feb. 25. + + ‘There is no more fighting, the people have conquered; but the + barricades are still kept up, and the people are in arms, more than + ever fearing some new act of treachery on the part of the ex-King. + The fight where I was was the principal cause of the Revolution. I + was in little danger from the shot, for there was an immense crowd in + front of me, though quite within gunshot. [By another letter, a + hundred yards from the troops.] I wished I had stopped there. + + ‘The Paris streets are filled with the most extraordinary crowds of + men, women and children, ladies and gentlemen. Every person joyful. + The bands of armed men are perfectly polite. Mamma and aunt to-day + walked through armed crowds alone, that were firing blank cartridges + in all directions. Every person made way with the greatest + politeness, and one common man with a blouse, coming by accident + against her immediately stopped to beg her pardon in the politest + manner. There are few drunken men. The Tuileries is still being run + over by the people; they only broke two things, a bust of Louis + Philippe and one of Marshal Bugeaud, who fired on the people. . . . . + + ‘I have been out all day again to-day, and precious tired I am. The + Republican party seem the strongest, and are going about with red + ribbons in their button-holes. . . . . + + ‘The title of “Mister” is abandoned; they say nothing but “Citizen,” + and the people are shaking hands amazingly. They have got to the top + of the public monuments, and, mingling with bronze or stone statues, + five or six make a sort of _tableau vivant_, the top man holding up + the red flag of the Republic; and right well they do it, and very + picturesque they look. I think I shall put this letter in the post + to-morrow as we got a letter to-night. + + (On Envelope.) + + ‘M. Lamartine has now by his eloquence conquered the whole armed + crowd of citizens threatening to kill him if he did not immediately + proclaim the Republic and red flag. He said he could not yield to + the citizens of Paris alone, that the whole country must be + consulted; that he chose the tricolour, for it had followed and + accompanied the triumphs of France all over the world, and that the + red flag had only been dipped in the blood of the citizens. For + sixty hours he has been quieting the people: he is at the head of + everything. Don’t be prejudiced, Frank, by what you see in the + papers. The French have acted nobly, splendidly; there has been no + brutality, plundering, or stealing. . . . I did not like the French + before; but in this respect they are the finest people in the world. + I am so glad to have been here.’ + +And there one could wish to stop with this apotheosis of liberty and +order read with the generous enthusiasm of a boy; but as the reader +knows, it was but the first act of the piece. The letters, vivid as they +are, written as they were by a hand trembling with fear and excitement, +yet do injustice, in their boyishness of tone, to the profound effect +produced. At the sound of these songs and shot of cannon, the boy’s mind +awoke. He dated his own appreciation of the art of acting from the day +when he saw and heard Rachel recite the ‘_Marseillaise_’ at the Français, +the tricolour in her arms. What is still more strange, he had been up to +then invincibly indifferent to music, insomuch that he could not +distinguish ‘God save the Queen’ from ‘Bonnie Dundee’; and now, to the +chanting of the mob, he amazed his family by learning and singing +‘_Mourir pour la Patrie_.’ But the letters, though they prepare the mind +for no such revolution in the boy’s tastes and feelings, are yet full of +entertaining traits. Let the reader note Fleeming’s eagerness to +influence his friend Frank, an incipient Tory (no less) as further +history displayed; his unconscious indifference to his father and +devotion to his mother, betrayed in so many significant expressions and +omissions; the sense of dignity of this diminutive ‘person resident on +the spot,’ who was so happy as to escape insult; and the strange picture +of the household—father, mother, son, and even poor Aunt Anna—all day in +the streets in the thick of this rough business, and the boy packed off +alone to school in a distant quarter on the very morrow of the massacre. + +They had all the gift of enjoying life’s texture as it comes; they were +all born optimists. The name of liberty was honoured in that family, its +spirit also, but within stringent limits; and some of the foreign friends +of Mrs. Jenkin were, as I have said, men distinguished on the Liberal +side. Like Wordsworth, they beheld + + France standing on the top of golden hours + And human nature seeming born again. + +At once, by temper and belief, they were formed to find their element in +such a decent and whiggish convulsion, spectacular in its course, +moderate in its purpose. For them, + + Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, + But to be young was very heaven. + +And I cannot but smile when I think that (again like Wordsworth) they +should have so specially disliked the consequence. + +It came upon them by surprise. Liberal friends of the precise right +shade of colour had assured them, in Mrs. Turner’s drawing-room, that all +was for the best; and they rose on January 23 without fear. About the +middle of the day they heard the sound of musketry, and the next morning +they were wakened by the cannonade. The French who had behaved so +‘splendidly,’ pausing, at the voice of Lamartine, just where judicious +Liberals could have desired—the French, who had ‘no cupidity in their +nature,’ were now about to play a variation on the theme rebellion. The +Jenkins took refuge in the house of Mrs. Turner, the house of the false +prophets, ‘Anna going with Mrs. Turner, that she might be prevented +speaking English, Fleeming, Miss H. and I (it is the mother who writes) +walking together. As we reached the Rue de Clichy, the report of the +cannon sounded close to our ears and made our hearts sick, I assure you. +The fighting was at the barrier Rochechouart, a few streets off. All +Saturday and Sunday we were a prey to great alarm, there came so many +reports that the insurgents were getting the upper hand. One could tell +the state of affairs from the extreme quiet or the sudden hum in the +street. When the news was bad, all the houses closed and the people +disappeared; when better, the doors half opened and you heard the sound +of men again. From the upper windows we could see each discharge from +the Bastille—I mean the smoke rising—and also the flames and smoke from +the Boulevard la Chapelle. We were four ladies, and only Fleeming by way +of a man, and difficulty enough we had to keep him from joining the +National Guards—his pride and spirit were both fired. You cannot picture +to yourself the multitudes of soldiers, guards, and armed men of all +sorts we watched—not close to the window, however, for such havoc had +been made among them by the firing from the windows, that as the +battalions marched by, they cried, “Fermez vos fenêtres!” and it was very +painful to watch their looks of anxiety and suspicion as they marched +by.’ + +‘The Revolution,’ writes Fleeming to Frank Scott, ‘was quite delightful: +getting popped at and run at by horses, and giving sous for the wounded +into little boxes guarded by the raggedest, picturesquest, +delightfullest, sentinels; but the insurrection! ugh, I shudder to think +at [_sic_] it.’ He found it ‘not a bit of fun sitting boxed up in the +house four days almost. . . I was the only _gentleman_ to four ladies, +and didn’t they keep me in order! I did not dare to show my face at a +window, for fear of catching a stray ball or being forced to enter the +National Guard; [for] they would have it I was a man full-grown, French, +and every way fit to fight. And my mamma was as bad as any of them; she +that told me I was a coward last time if I stayed in the house a quarter +of an hour! But I drew, examined the pistols, of which I found lots with +caps, powder, and ball, while sometimes murderous intentions of killing a +dozen insurgents and dying violently overpowered by numbers. . . . .’ We +may drop this sentence here: under the conduct of its boyish writer, it +was to reach no legitimate end. + +Four days of such a discipline had cured the family of Paris; the same +year Fleeming was to write, in answer apparently to a question of Frank +Scott’s, ‘I could find no national game in France but revolutions’; and +the witticism was justified in their experience. On the first possible +day, they applied for passports, and were advised to take the road to +Geneva. It appears it was scarce safe to leave Paris for England. +Charles Reade, with keen dramatic gusto, had just smuggled himself out of +that city in the bottom of a cab. English gold had been found on the +insurgents, the name of England was in evil odour; and it was thus—for +strategic reasons, so to speak—that Fleeming found himself on the way to +that Italy where he was to complete his education, and for which he +cherished to the end a special kindness. + +It was in Genoa they settled; partly for the sake of the captain, who +might there find naval comrades; partly because of the Ruffinis, who had +been friends of Mrs. Jenkin in their time of exile and were now +considerable men at home; partly, in fine, with hopes that Fleeming might +attend the University; in preparation for which he was put at once to +school. It was the year of Novara; Mazzini was in Rome; the dry bones of +Italy were moving; and for people of alert and liberal sympathies the +time was inspiriting. What with exiles turned Ministers of State, +universities thrown open to Protestants, Fleeming himself the first +Protestant student in Genoa, and thus, as his mother writes, ‘a living +instance of the progress of liberal ideas’—it was little wonder if the +enthusiastic young woman and the clever boy were heart and soul upon the +side of Italy. It should not be forgotten that they were both on their +first visit to that country; the mother still child enough ‘to be +delighted when she saw real monks’; and both mother and son thrilling +with the first sight of snowy Alps, the blue Mediterranean, and the +crowded port and the palaces of Genoa. Nor was their zeal without +knowledge. Ruffini, deputy for Genoa and soon to be head of the +University, was at their side; and by means of him the family appear to +have had access to much Italian society. To the end, Fleeming professed +his admiration of the Piedmontese and his unalterable confidence in the +future of Italy under their conduct; for Victor Emanuel, Cavour, the +first La Marmora and Garibaldi, he had varying degrees of sympathy and +praise: perhaps highest for the King, whose good sense and temper filled +him with respect—perhaps least for Garibaldi, whom he loved but yet +mistrusted. + +But this is to look forward: these were the days not of Victor Emanuel +but of Charles Albert; and it was on Charles Albert that mother and son +had now fixed their eyes as on the sword-bearer of Italy. On Fleeming’s +sixteenth birthday, they were, the mother writes, ‘in great anxiety for +news from the army. You can have no idea what it is to live in a country +where such a struggle is going on. The interest is one that absorbs all +others. We eat, drink, and sleep to the noise of drums and musketry. +You would enjoy and almost admire Fleeming’s enthusiasm and +earnestness—and, courage, I may say—for we are among the small minority +of English who side with the Italians. The other day, at dinner at the +Consul’s, boy as he is, and in spite of my admonitions, Fleeming defended +the Italian cause, and so well that he “tripped up the heels of his +adversary” simply from being well-informed on the subject and honest. He +is as true as steel, and for no one will he bend right or left. . . . . +Do not fancy him a Bobadil,’ she adds, ‘he is only a very true, candid +boy. I am so glad he remains in all respects but information a great +child.’ + +If this letter is correctly dated, the cause was already lost and the +King had already abdicated when these lines were written. No sooner did +the news reach Genoa, than there began ‘tumultuous movements’; and the +Jenkins’ received hints it would be wise to leave the city. But they had +friends and interests; even the captain had English officers to keep him +company, for Lord Hardwicke’s ship, the _Vengeance_, lay in port; and +supposing the danger to be real, I cannot but suspect the whole family of +a divided purpose, prudence being possibly weaker than curiosity. Stay, +at least, they did, and thus rounded their experience of the +revolutionary year. On Sunday, April 1, Fleeming and the captain went +for a ramble beyond the walls, leaving Aunt Anna and Mrs. Jenkin to walk +on the bastions with some friends. On the way back, this party turned +aside to rest in the Church of the Madonna delle Grazie. ‘We had +remarked,’ writes Mrs. Jenkin, ‘the entire absence of sentinels on the +ramparts, and how the cannons were left in solitary state; and I had just +remarked “How quiet everything is!” when suddenly we heard the drums +begin to beat and distant shouts. _Accustomed as we are_ to revolutions, +we never thought of being frightened.’ For all that, they resumed their +return home. On the way they saw men running and vociferating, but +nothing to indicate a general disturbance, until, near the Duke’s palace, +they came upon and passed a shouting mob dragging along with it three +cannon. It had scarcely passed before they heard ‘a rushing sound’; one +of the gentlemen thrust back the party of ladies under a shed, and the +mob passed again. A fine-looking young man was in their hands; and Mrs. +Jenkin saw him with his mouth open as if he sought to speak, saw him +tossed from one to another like a ball, and then saw him no more. ‘He +was dead a few instants after, but the crowd hid that terror from us. My +knees shook under me and my sight left me.’ With this street tragedy, +the curtain rose upon their second revolution. + +The attack on Spirito Santo, and the capitulation and departure of the +troops speedily followed. Genoa was in the hands of the Republicans, and +now came a time when the English residents were in a position to pay some +return for hospitality received. Nor were they backward. Our Consul +(the same who had the benefit of correction from Fleeming) carried the +Intendente on board the _Vengeance_, escorting him through the streets, +getting along with him on board a shore boat, and when the insurgents +levelled their muskets, standing up and naming himself, ‘_Console +Inglese_.’ A friend of the Jenkins’, Captain Glynne, had a more painful, +if a less dramatic part. One Colonel Nosozzo had been killed (I read) +while trying to prevent his own artillery from firing on the mob; but in +that hell’s cauldron of a distracted city, there were no distinctions +made, and the Colonel’s widow was hunted for her life. In her grief and +peril, the Glynnes received and hid her; Captain Glynne sought and found +her husband’s body among the slain, saved it for two days, brought the +widow a lock of the dead man’s hair; but at last, the mob still strictly +searching, seems to have abandoned the body, and conveyed his guest on +board the _Vengeance_. The Jenkins also had their refugees, the family +of an _employé_ threatened by a decree. ‘You should have seen me making +a Union Jack to nail over our door,’ writes Mrs. Jenkin. ‘I never worked +so fast in my life. Monday and Tuesday,’ she continues, ‘were tolerably +quiet, our hearts beating fast in the hope of La Marmora’s approach, the +streets barricaded, and none but foreigners and women allowed to leave +the city.’ On Wednesday, La Marmora came indeed, but in the ugly form of +a bombardment; and that evening the Jenkins sat without lights about +their drawing-room window, ‘watching the huge red flashes of the cannon’ +from the Brigato and La Specula forts, and hearkening, not without some +awful pleasure, to the thunder of the cannonade. + +Lord Hardwicke intervened between the rebels and La Marmora; and there +followed a troubled armistice, filled with the voice of panic. Now the +_Vengeance_ was known to be cleared for action; now it was rumoured that +the galley slaves were to be let loose upon the town, and now that the +troops would enter it by storm. Crowds, trusting in the Union Jack over +the Jenkins’ door, came to beg them to receive their linen and other +valuables; nor could their instances be refused; and in the midst of all +this bustle and alarm, piles of goods must be examined and long +inventories made. At last the captain decided things had gone too far. +He himself apparently remained to watch over the linen; but at five +o’clock on the Sunday morning, Aunt Anna, Fleeming, and his mother were +rowed in a pour of rain on board an English merchantman, to suffer ‘nine +mortal hours of agonising suspense.’ With the end of that time, peace +was restored. On Tuesday morning officers with white flags appeared on +the bastions; then, regiment by regiment, the troops marched in, two +hundred men sleeping on the ground floor of the Jenkins’ house, thirty +thousand in all entering the city, but without disturbance, old La +Marmora being a commander of a Roman sternness. + +With the return of quiet, and the reopening of the universities, we +behold a new character, Signor Flaminio: the professors, it appears, made +no attempt upon the Jenkin; and thus readily italianised the Fleeming. +He came well recommended; for their friend Ruffini was then, or soon +after, raised to be the head of the University; and the professors were +very kind and attentive, possibly to Ruffini’s _protégé_, perhaps also to +the first Protestant student. It was no joke for Signor Flaminio at +first; certificates had to be got from Paris and from Rector Williams; +the classics must be furbished up at home that he might follow Latin +lectures; examinations bristled in the path, the entrance examination +with Latin and English essay, and oral trials (much softened for the +foreigner) in Horace, Tacitus, and Cicero, and the first University +examination only three months later, in Italian eloquence, no less, and +other wider subjects. On one point the first Protestant student was +moved to thank his stars: that there was no Greek required for the +degree. Little did he think, as he set down his gratitude, how much, in +later life and among cribs and dictionaries, he was to lament this +circumstance; nor how much of that later life he was to spend acquiring, +with infinite toil, a shadow of what he might then have got with ease and +fully. But if his Genoese education was in this particular imperfect, he +was fortunate in the branches that more immediately touched on his +career. The physical laboratory was the best mounted in Italy. +Bancalari, the professor of natural philosophy, was famous in his day; by +what seems even an odd coincidence, he went deeply into electromagnetism; +and it was principally in that subject that Signor Flaminio, questioned +in Latin and answering in Italian, passed his Master of Arts degree with +first-class honours. That he had secured the notice of his teachers, one +circumstance sufficiently proves. A philosophical society was started +under the presidency of Mamiani, ‘one of the examiners and one of the +leaders of the Moderate party’; and out of five promising students +brought forward by the professors to attend the sittings and present +essays, Signor Flaminio was one. I cannot find that he ever read an +essay; and indeed I think his hands were otherwise too full. He found +his fellow-students ‘not such a bad set of chaps,’ and preferred the +Piedmontese before the Genoese; but I suspect he mixed not very freely +with either. Not only were his days filled with university work, but his +spare hours were fully dedicated to the arts under the eye of a beloved +task-mistress. He worked hard and well in the art school, where he +obtained a silver medal ‘for a couple of legs the size of life drawn from +one of Raphael’s cartoons.’ His holidays were spent in sketching; his +evenings, when they were free, at the theatre. Here at the opera he +discovered besides a taste for a new art, the art of music; and it was, +he wrote, ‘as if he had found out a heaven on earth.’ ‘I am so anxious +that whatever he professes to know, he should really perfectly possess,’ +his mother wrote, ‘that I spare no pains’; neither to him nor to myself, +she might have added. And so when he begged to be allowed to learn the +piano, she started him with characteristic barbarity on the scales; and +heard in consequence ‘heart-rending groans’ and saw ‘anguished claspings +of hands’ as he lost his way among their arid intricacies. + +In this picture of the lad at the piano, there is something, for the +period, girlish. He was indeed his mother’s boy; and it was fortunate +his mother was not altogether feminine. She gave her son a womanly +delicacy in morals, to a man’s taste—to his own taste in later life—too +finely spun, and perhaps more elegant than healthful. She encouraged him +besides in drawing-room interests. But in other points her influence was +manlike. Filled with the spirit of thoroughness, she taught him to make +of the least of these accomplishments a virile task; and the teaching +lasted him through life. Immersed as she was in the day’s movements and +buzzed about by leading Liberals, she handed on to him her creed in +politics: an enduring kindness for Italy, and a loyalty, like that of +many clever women, to the Liberal party with but small regard to men or +measures. This attitude of mind used often to disappoint me in a man so +fond of logic; but I see now how it was learned from the bright eyes of +his mother and to the sound of the cannonades of 1848. To some of her +defects, besides, she made him heir. Kind as was the bond that united +her to her son, kind and even pretty, she was scarce a woman to adorn a +home; loving as she did to shine; careless as she was of domestic, +studious of public graces. She probably rejoiced to see the boy grow up +in somewhat of the image of herself, generous, excessive, enthusiastic, +external; catching at ideas, brandishing them when caught; fiery for the +right, but always fiery; ready at fifteen to correct a consul, ready at +fifty to explain to any artist his own art. + +The defects and advantages of such a training were obvious in Fleeming +throughout life. His thoroughness was not that of the patient scholar, +but of an untrained woman with fits of passionate study; he had learned +too much from dogma, given indeed by cherished lips; and precocious as he +was in the use of the tools of the mind, he was truly backward in +knowledge of life and of himself. Such as it was at least, his home and +school training was now complete; and you are to conceive the lad as +being formed in a household of meagre revenue, among foreign +surroundings, and under the influence of an imperious drawing-room queen; +from whom he learned a great refinement of morals, a strong sense of +duty, much forwardness of bearing, all manner of studious and artistic +interests, and many ready-made opinions which he embraced with a son’s +and a disciple’s loyalty. + + + + +CHAPTER III. 1851–1858. + + +Return to England—Fleeming at Fairbairn’s—Experience in a Strike—Dr. Bell +and Greek Architecture—The Gaskells—Fleeming at Greenwich—The +Austins—Fleeming and the Austins—His Engagement—Fleeming and Sir W. +Thomson. + +IN 1851, the year of Aunt Anna’s death, the family left Genoa and came to +Manchester, where Fleeming was entered in Fairbairn’s works as an +apprentice. From the palaces and Alps, the Mole, the blue Mediterranean, +the humming lanes and the bright theatres of Genoa, he fell—and he was +sharply conscious of the fall—to the dim skies and the foul ways of +Manchester. England he found on his return ‘a horrid place,’ and there +is no doubt the family found it a dear one. The story of the Jenkin +finances is not easy to follow. The family, I am told, did not practice +frugality, only lamented that it should be needful; and Mrs. Jenkin, who +was always complaining of ‘those dreadful bills,’ was ‘always a good deal +dressed.’ But at this time of the return to England, things must have +gone further. A holiday tour of a fortnight, Fleeming feared would be +beyond what he could afford, and he only projected it ‘to have a castle +in the air.’ And there were actual pinches. Fresh from a warmer sun, he +was obliged to go without a greatcoat, and learned on railway journeys to +supply the place of one with wrappings of old newspaper. + +From half-past eight till six, he must ‘file and chip vigorously in a +moleskin suit and infernally dirty.’ The work was not new to him, for he +had already passed some time in a Genoese shop; and to Fleeming no work +was without interest. Whatever a man can do or know, he longed to know +and do also. ‘I never learned anything,’ he wrote, ‘not even standing on +my head, but I found a use for it.’ In the spare hours of his first +telegraph voyage, to give an instance of his greed of knowledge, he meant +‘to learn the whole art of navigation, every rope in the ship and how to +handle her on any occasion’; and once when he was shown a young lady’s +holiday collection of seaweeds, he must cry out, ‘It showed me my eyes +had been idle.’ Nor was his the case of the mere literary smatterer, +content if he but learn the names of things. In him, to do and to do +well, was even a dearer ambition than to know. Anything done well, any +craft, despatch, or finish, delighted and inspired him. I remember him +with a twopenny Japanese box of three drawers, so exactly fitted that, +when one was driven home, the others started from their places; the whole +spirit of Japan, he told me, was pictured in that box; that plain piece +of carpentry was as much inspired by the spirit of perfection as the +happiest drawing or the finest bronze; and he who could not enjoy it in +the one was not fully able to enjoy it in the others. Thus, too, he +found in Leonardo’s engineering and anatomical drawings a perpetual +feast; and of the former he spoke even with emotion. Nothing indeed +annoyed Fleeming more than the attempt to separate the fine arts from the +arts of handicraft; any definition or theory that failed to bring these +two together, according to him, had missed the point; and the essence of +the pleasure received lay in seeing things well done. Other qualities +must be added; he was the last to deny that; but this, of perfect craft, +was at the bottom of all. And on the other hand, a nail ill-driven, a +joint ill-fitted, a tracing clumsily done, anything to which a man had +set his hand and not set it aptly, moved him to shame and anger. With +such a character, he would feel but little drudgery at Fairbairn’s. +There would be something daily to be done, slovenliness to be avoided, +and a higher mark of skill to be attained; he would chip and file, as he +had practiced scales, impatient of his own imperfection, but resolute to +learn. + +And there was another spring of delight. For he was now moving daily +among those strange creations of man’s brain, to some so abhorrent, to +him of an interest so inexhaustible: in which iron, water, and fire are +made to serve as slaves, now with a tread more powerful than an +elephant’s, and now with a touch more precise and dainty than a +pianist’s. The taste for machinery was one that I could never share with +him, and he had a certain bitter pity for my weakness. Once when I had +proved, for the hundredth time, the depth of this defect, he looked at me +askance. ‘And the best of the joke,’ said he, ‘is that he thinks himself +quite a poet.’ For to him the struggle of the engineer against brute +forces and with inert allies, was nobly poetic. Habit never dulled in +him the sense of the greatness of the aims and obstacles of his +profession. Habit only sharpened his inventor’s gusto in contrivance, in +triumphant artifice, in the Odyssean subtleties, by which wires are +taught to speak, and iron hands to weave, and the slender ship to brave +and to outstrip the tempest. To the ignorant the great results alone are +admirable; to the knowing, and to Fleeming in particular, rather the +infinite device and sleight of hand that made them possible. + +A notion was current at the time that, in such a shop as Fairbairn’s, a +pupil would never be popular unless he drank with the workmen and +imitated them in speech and manner. Fleeming, who would do none of these +things, they accepted as a friend and companion; and this was the subject +of remark in Manchester, where some memory of it lingers till to-day. He +thought it one of the advantages of his profession to be brought into a +close relation with the working classes; and for the skilled artisan he +had a great esteem, liking his company, his virtues, and his taste in +some of the arts. But he knew the classes too well to regard them, like +a platform speaker, in a lump. He drew, on the other hand, broad +distinctions; and it was his profound sense of the difference between one +working man and another that led him to devote so much time, in later +days, to the furtherance of technical education. In 1852 he had occasion +to see both men and masters at their worst, in the excitement of a +strike; and very foolishly (after their custom) both would seem to have +behaved. Beginning with a fair show of justice on either side, the +masters stultified their cause by obstinate impolicy, and the men +disgraced their order by acts of outrage. ‘On Wednesday last,’ writes +Fleeming, ‘about three thousand banded round Fairbairn’s door at 6 +o’clock: men, women, and children, factory boys and girls, the lowest of +the low in a very low place. Orders came that no one was to leave the +works; but the men inside (Knobsticks, as they are called) were precious +hungry and thought they would venture. Two of my companions and myself +went out with the very first, and had the full benefit of every possible +groan and bad language.’ But the police cleared a lane through the +crowd, the pupils were suffered to escape unhurt, and only the Knobsticks +followed home and kicked with clogs; so that Fleeming enjoyed, as we may +say, for nothing, that fine thrill of expectant valour with which he had +sallied forth into the mob. ‘I never before felt myself so decidedly +somebody, instead of nobody,’ he wrote. + +Outside as inside the works, he was ‘pretty merry and well to do,’ +zealous in study, welcome to many friends, unwearied in loving-kindness +to his mother. For some time he spent three nights a week with Dr. Bell, +‘working away at certain geometrical methods of getting the Greek +architectural proportions’: a business after Fleeming’s heart, for he was +never so pleased as when he could marry his two devotions, art and +science. This was besides, in all likelihood, the beginning of that love +and intimate appreciation of things Greek, from the least to the +greatest, from the _Agamemnon_ (perhaps his favourite tragedy) down to +the details of Grecian tailoring, which he used to express in his +familiar phrase: ‘The Greeks were the boys.’ Dr. Bell—the son of George +Joseph, the nephew of Sir Charles, and though he made less use of it than +some, a sharer in the distinguished talents of his race—had hit upon the +singular fact that certain geometrical intersections gave the proportions +of the Doric order. Fleeming, under Dr. Bell’s direction, applied the +same method to the other orders, and again found the proportions +accurately given. Numbers of diagrams were prepared; but the discovery +was never given to the world, perhaps because of the dissensions that +arose between the authors. For Dr. Bell believed that ‘these +intersections were in some way connected with, or symbolical of, the +antagonistic forces at work’; but his pupil and helper, with +characteristic trenchancy, brushed aside this mysticism, and interpreted +the discovery as ‘a geometrical method of dividing the spaces or (as +might be said) of setting out the work, purely empirical and in no way +connected with any laws of either force or beauty.’ ‘Many a hard and +pleasant fight we had over it,’ wrote Jenkin, in later years; ‘and +impertinent as it may seem, the pupil is still unconvinced by the +arguments of the master.’ I do not know about the antagonistic forces in +the Doric order; in Fleeming they were plain enough; and the Bobadil of +these affairs with Dr. Bell was still, like the corrector of Italian +consuls, ‘a great child in everything but information.’ At the house of +Colonel Cleather, he might be seen with a family of children; and with +these, there was no word of the Greek orders; with these Fleeming was +only an uproarious boy and an entertaining draughtsman; so that his +coming was the signal for the young people to troop into the playroom, +where sometimes the roof rang with romping, and sometimes they gathered +quietly about him as he amused them with his pencil. + +In another Manchester family, whose name will be familiar to my +readers—that of the Gaskells, Fleeming was a frequent visitor. To Mrs. +Gaskell, he would often bring his new ideas, a process that many of his +later friends will understand and, in their own cases, remember. With +the girls, he had ‘constant fierce wrangles,’ forcing them to reason out +their thoughts and to explain their prepossessions; and I hear from Miss +Gaskell that they used to wonder how he could throw all the ardour of his +character into the smallest matters, and to admire his unselfish devotion +to his parents. Of one of these wrangles, I have found a record most +characteristic of the man. Fleeming had been laying down his doctrine +that the end justifies the means, and that it is quite right ‘to boast of +your six men-servants to a burglar or to steal a knife to prevent a +murder’; and the Miss Gaskells, with girlish loyalty to what is current, +had rejected the heresy with indignation. From such passages-at-arms, +many retire mortified and ruffled; but Fleeming had no sooner left the +house than he fell into delighted admiration of the spirit of his +adversaries. From that it was but a step to ask himself ‘what truth was +sticking in their heads’; for even the falsest form of words (in +Fleeming’s life-long opinion) reposed upon some truth, just as he could +‘not even allow that people admire ugly things, they admire what is +pretty in the ugly thing.’ And before he sat down to write his letter, +he thought he had hit upon the explanation. ‘I fancy the true idea,’ he +wrote, ‘is that you must never do yourself or anyone else a moral +injury—make any man a thief or a liar—for any end’; quite a different +thing, as he would have loved to point out, from never stealing or lying. +But this perfervid disputant was not always out of key with his audience. +One whom he met in the same house announced that she would never again be +happy. ‘What does that signify?’ cried Fleeming. ‘We are not here to be +happy, but to be good.’ And the words (as his hearer writes to me) +became to her a sort of motto during life. + +From Fairbairn’s and Manchester, Fleeming passed to a railway survey in +Switzerland, and thence again to Mr. Penn’s at Greenwich, where he was +engaged as draughtsman. There in 1856, we find him in ‘a terribly busy +state, finishing up engines for innumerable gun-boats and steam frigates +for the ensuing campaign.’ From half-past eight in the morning till nine +or ten at night, he worked in a crowded office among uncongenial +comrades, ‘saluted by chaff, generally low personal and not witty,’ +pelted with oranges and apples, regaled with dirty stories, and seeking +to suit himself with his surroundings or (as he writes it) trying to be +as little like himself as possible. His lodgings were hard by, ‘across a +dirty green and through some half-built streets of two-storied houses’; +he had Carlyle and the poets, engineering and mathematics, to study by +himself in such spare time as remained to him; and there were several +ladies, young and not so young, with whom he liked to correspond. But +not all of these could compensate for the absence of that mother, who had +made herself so large a figure in his life, for sorry surroundings, +unsuitable society, and work that leaned to the mechanical. ‘Sunday,’ +says he, ‘I generally visit some friends in town and seem to swim in +clearer water, but the dirty green seems all the dirtier when I get back. +Luckily I am fond of my profession, or I could not stand this life.’ It +is a question in my mind, if he could have long continued to stand it +without loss. ‘We are not here to be happy, but to be good,’ quoth the +young philosopher; but no man had a keener appetite for happiness than +Fleeming Jenkin. There is a time of life besides when apart from +circumstances, few men are agreeable to their neighbours and still fewer +to themselves; and it was at this stage that Fleeming had arrived, later +than common and even worse provided. The letter from which I have quoted +is the last of his correspondence with Frank Scott, and his last +confidential letter to one of his own sex. ‘If you consider it rightly,’ +he wrote long after, ‘you will find the want of correspondence no such +strange want in men’s friendships. There is, believe me, something noble +in the metal which does not rust though not burnished by daily use.’ It +is well said; but the last letter to Frank Scott is scarcely of a noble +metal. It is plain the writer has outgrown his old self, yet not made +acquaintance with the new. This letter from a busy youth of three and +twenty, breathes of seventeen: the sickening alternations of conceit and +shame, the expense of hope _in vacuo_, the lack of friends, the longing +after love; the whole world of egoism under which youth stands groaning, +a voluntary Atlas. + +With Fleeming this disease was never seemingly severe. The very day +before this (to me) distasteful letter, he had written to Miss Bell of +Manchester in a sweeter strain; I do not quote the one, I quote the +other; fair things are the best. ‘I keep my own little lodgings,’ he +writes, ‘but come up every night to see mamma’ (who was then on a visit +to London) ‘if not kept too late at the works; and have singing lessons +once more, and sing “_Donne l’amore è scaltro pargoletto_”; and think and +talk about you; and listen to mamma’s projects _de_ Stowting. Everything +turns to gold at her touch, she’s a fairy and no mistake. We go on +talking till I have a picture in my head, and can hardly believe at the +end that the original is Stowting. Even you don’t know half how good +mamma is; in other things too, which I must not mention. She teaches me +how it is not necessary to be very rich to do much good. I begin to +understand that mamma would find useful occupation and create beauty at +the bottom of a volcano. She has little weaknesses, but is a real +generous-hearted woman, which I suppose is the finest thing in the +world.’ Though neither mother nor son could be called beautiful, they +make a pretty picture; the ugly, generous, ardent woman weaving rainbow +illusions; the ugly, clear-sighted, loving son sitting at her side in one +of his rare hours of pleasure, half-beguiled, half-amused, wholly +admiring, as he listens. But as he goes home, and the fancy pictures +fade, and Stowting is once more burthened with debt, and the noisy +companions and the long hours of drudgery once more approach, no wonder +if the dirty green seems all the dirtier or if Atlas must resume his +load. + +But in healthy natures, this time of moral teething passes quickly of +itself, and is easily alleviated by fresh interests; and already, in the +letter to Frank Scott, there are two words of hope: his friends in +London, his love for his profession. The last might have saved him; for +he was ere long to pass into a new sphere, where all his faculties were +to be tried and exercised, and his life to be filled with interest and +effort. But it was not left to engineering: another and more influential +aim was to be set before him. He must, in any case, have fallen in love; +in any case, his love would have ruled his life; and the question of +choice was, for the descendant of two such families, a thing of paramount +importance. Innocent of the world, fiery, generous, devoted as he was, +the son of the wild Jacksons and the facile Jenkins might have been led +far astray. By one of those partialities that fill men at once with +gratitude and wonder, his choosing was directed well. Or are we to say +that by a man’s choice in marriage, as by a crucial merit, he deserves +his fortune? One thing at least reason may discern: that a man but +partly chooses, he also partly forms, his help-mate; and he must in part +deserve her, or the treasure is but won for a moment to be lost. +Fleeming chanced if you will (and indeed all these opportunities are as +‘random as blind man’s buff’) upon a wife who was worthy of him; but he +had the wit to know it, the courage to wait and labour for his prize, and +the tenderness and chivalry that are required to keep such prizes +precious. Upon this point he has himself written well, as usual with +fervent optimism, but as usual (in his own phrase) with a truth sticking +in his head. + +‘Love,’ he wrote, ‘is not an intuition of the person most suitable to us, +most required by us; of the person with whom life flowers and bears +fruit. If this were so, the chances of our meeting that person would be +small indeed; our intuition would often fail; the blindness of love would +then be fatal as it is proverbial. No, love works differently, and in +its blindness lies its strength. Man and woman, each strongly desires to +be loved, each opens to the other that heart of ideal aspirations which +they have often hid till then; each, thus knowing the ideal of the other, +tries to fulfil that ideal, each partially succeeds. The greater the +love, the greater the success; the nobler the idea of each, the more +durable, the more beautiful the effect. Meanwhile the blindness of each +to the other’s defects enables the transformation to proceed +[unobserved,] so that when the veil is withdrawn (if it ever is, and this +I do not know) neither knows that any change has occurred in the person +whom they loved. Do not fear, therefore. I do not tell you that your +friend will not change, but as I am sure that her choice cannot be that +of a man with a base ideal, so I am sure the change will be a safe and a +good one. Do not fear that anything you love will vanish, he must love +it too.’ + +Among other introductions in London, Fleeming had presented a letter from +Mrs. Gaskell to the Alfred Austins. This was a family certain to +interest a thoughtful young man. Alfred, the youngest and least known of +the Austins, had been a beautiful golden-haired child, petted and kept +out of the way of both sport and study by a partial mother. Bred an +attorney, he had (like both his brothers) changed his way of life, and +was called to the bar when past thirty. A Commission of Enquiry into the +state of the poor in Dorsetshire gave him an opportunity of proving his +true talents; and he was appointed a Poor Law Inspector, first at +Worcester, next at Manchester, where he had to deal with the potato +famine and the Irish immigration of the ‘forties, and finally in London, +where he again distinguished himself during an epidemic of cholera. He +was then advanced to the Permanent Secretaryship of Her Majesty’s Office +of Works and Public Buildings; a position which he filled with perfect +competence, but with an extreme of modesty; and on his retirement, in +1868, he was made a Companion of the Bath. While apprentice to a Norwich +attorney, Alfred Austin was a frequent visitor in the house of Mr. +Barron, a rallying place in those days of intellectual society. Edward +Barron, the son of a rich saddler or leather merchant in the Borough, was +a man typical of the time. When he was a child, he had once been patted +on the head in his father’s shop by no less a man than Samuel Johnson, as +the Doctor went round the Borough canvassing for Mr. Thrale; and the +child was true to this early consecration. ‘A life of lettered ease +spent in provincial retirement,’ it is thus that the biographer of that +remarkable man, William Taylor, announces his subject; and the phrase is +equally descriptive of the life of Edward Barron. The pair were close +friends, ‘W. T. and a pipe render everything agreeable,’ writes Barron in +his diary in 1828; and in 1833, after Barron had moved to London and +Taylor had tasted the first public failure of his powers, the latter +wrote: ‘To my ever dearest Mr. Barron say, if you please, that I miss him +more than I regret him—that I acquiesce in his retirement from Norwich, +because I could ill brook his observation of my increasing debility of +mind.’ This chosen companion of William Taylor must himself have been no +ordinary man; and he was the friend besides of Borrow, whom I find him +helping in his Latin. But he had no desire for popular distinction, +lived privately, married a daughter of Dr. Enfield of Enfield’s +_Speaker_, and devoted his time to the education of his family, in a +deliberate and scholarly fashion, and with certain traits of stoicism, +that would surprise a modern. From these children we must single out his +youngest daughter, Eliza, who learned under his care to be a sound Latin, +an elegant Grecian, and to suppress emotion without outward sign after +the manner of the Godwin school. This was the more notable, as the girl +really derived from the Enfields; whose high-flown romantic temper, I +wish I could find space to illustrate. She was but seven years old, when +Alfred Austin remarked and fell in love with her; and the union thus +early prepared was singularly full. Where the husband and wife differed, +and they did so on momentous subjects, they differed with perfect temper +and content; and in the conduct of life, and in depth and durability of +love, they were at one. Each full of high spirits, each practised +something of the same repression: no sharp word was uttered in their +house. The same point of honour ruled them, a guest was sacred and stood +within the pale from criticism. It was a house, besides, of unusual +intellectual tension. Mrs. Austin remembered, in the early days of the +marriage, the three brothers, John, Charles, and Alfred, marching to and +fro, each with his hands behind his back, and ‘reasoning high’ till +morning; and how, like Dr. Johnson, they would cheer their speculations +with as many as fifteen cups of tea. And though, before the date of +Fleeming’s visit, the brothers were separated, Charles long ago retired +from the world at Brandeston, and John already near his end in the +‘rambling old house’ at Weybridge, Alfred Austin and his wife were still +a centre of much intellectual society, and still, as indeed they remained +until the last, youthfully alert in mind. There was but one child of the +marriage, Anne, and she was herself something new for the eyes of the +young visitor; brought up, as she had been, like her mother before her, +to the standard of a man’s acquirements. Only one art had she been +denied, she must not learn the violin—the thought was too monstrous even +for the Austins; and indeed it would seem as if that tide of reform which +we may date from the days of Mary Wollstonecraft had in some degree even +receded; for though Miss Austin was suffered to learn Greek, the +accomplishment was kept secret like a piece of guilt. But whether this +stealth was caused by a backward movement in public thought since the +time of Edward Barron, or by the change from enlightened Norwich to +barbarian London, I have no means of judging. + +When Fleeming presented his letter, he fell in love at first sight with +Mrs. Austin and the life, and atmosphere of the house. There was in the +society of the Austins, outward, stoical conformers to the world, +something gravely suggestive of essential eccentricity, something +unpretentiously breathing of intellectual effort, that could not fail to +hit the fancy of this hot-brained boy. The unbroken enamel of courtesy, +the self-restraint, the dignified kindness of these married folk, had +besides a particular attraction for their visitor. He could not but +compare what he saw, with what he knew of his mother and himself. +Whatever virtues Fleeming possessed, he could never count on being civil; +whatever brave, true-hearted qualities he was able to admire in Mrs. +Jenkin, mildness of demeanour was not one of them. And here he found per +sons who were the equals of his mother and himself in intellect and width +of interest, and the equals of his father in mild urbanity of +disposition. Show Fleeming an active virtue, and he always loved it. He +went away from that house struck through with admiration, and vowing to +himself that his own married life should be upon that pattern, his wife +(whoever she might be) like Eliza Barron, himself such another husband as +Alfred Austin. What is more strange, he not only brought away, but left +behind him, golden opinions. He must have been—he was, I am told—a +trying lad; but there shone out of him such a light of innocent candour, +enthusiasm, intelligence, and appreciation, that to persons already some +way forward in years, and thus able to enjoy indulgently the perennial +comedy of youth, the sight of him was delightful. By a pleasant +coincidence, there was one person in the house whom he did not appreciate +and who did not appreciate him: Anne Austin, his future wife. His boyish +vanity ruffled her; his appearance, never impressive, was then, by reason +of obtrusive boyishness, still less so; she found occasion to put him in +the wrong by correcting a false quantity; and when Mr. Austin, after +doing his visitor the almost unheard-of honour of accompanying him to the +door, announced ‘That was what young men were like in my time’—she could +only reply, looking on her handsome father, ‘I thought they had been +better looking.’ + +This first visit to the Austins took place in 1855; and it seems it was +some time before Fleeming began to know his mind; and yet longer ere he +ventured to show it. The corrected quantity, to those who knew him well, +will seem to have played its part; he was the man always to reflect over +a correction and to admire the castigator. And fall in love he did; not +hurriedly but step by step, not blindly but with critical discrimination; +not in the fashion of Romeo, but before he was done, with all Romeo’s +ardour and more than Romeo’s faith. The high favour to which he +presently rose in the esteem of Alfred Austin and his wife, might well +give him ambitious notions; but the poverty of the present and the +obscurity of the future were there to give him pause; and when his +aspirations began to settle round Miss Austin, he tasted, perhaps for the +only time in his life, the pangs of diffidence. There was indeed opening +before him a wide door of hope. He had changed into the service of +Messrs. Liddell & Gordon; these gentlemen had begun to dabble in the new +field of marine telegraphy; and Fleeming was already face to face with +his life’s work. That impotent sense of his own value, as of a ship +aground, which makes one of the agonies of youth, began to fall from him. +New problems which he was endowed to solve, vistas of new enquiry which +he was fitted to explore, opened before him continually. His gifts had +found their avenue and goal. And with this pleasure of effective +exercise, there must have sprung up at once the hope of what is called by +the world success. But from these low beginnings, it was a far look +upward to Miss Austin: the favour of the loved one seems always more than +problematical to any lover; the consent of parents must be always more +than doubtful to a young man with a small salary and no capital except +capacity and hope. But Fleeming was not the lad to lose any good thing +for the lack of trial; and at length, in the autumn of 1857, this +boyish-sized, boyish-mannered, and superlatively ill-dressed young +engineer, entered the house of the Austins, with such sinkings as we may +fancy, and asked leave to pay his addresses to the daughter. Mrs. Austin +already loved him like a son, she was but too glad to give him her +consent; Mr. Austin reserved the right to inquire into his character; +from neither was there a word about his prospects, by neither was his +income mentioned. ‘Are these people,’ he wrote, struck with wonder at +this dignified disinterestedness, ‘are these people the same as other +people?’ It was not till he was armed with this permission, that Miss +Austin even suspected the nature of his hopes: so strong, in this +unmannerly boy, was the principle of true courtesy; so powerful, in this +impetuous nature, the springs of self-repression. And yet a boy he was; +a boy in heart and mind; and it was with a boy’s chivalry and frankness +that he won his wife. His conduct was a model of honour, hardly of tact; +to conceal love from the loved one, to court her parents, to be silent +and discreet till these are won, and then without preparation to approach +the lady—these are not arts that I would recommend for imitation. They +lead to final refusal. Nothing saved Fleeming from that fate, but one +circumstance that cannot be counted upon—the hearty favour of the mother, +and one gift that is inimitable and that never failed him throughout +life, the gift of a nature essentially noble and outspoken. A happy and +high-minded anger flashed through his despair: it won for him his wife. + +Nearly two years passed before it was possible to marry: two years of +activity, now in London; now at Birkenhead, fitting out ships, inventing +new machinery for new purposes, and dipping into electrical experiment; +now in the _Elba_ on his first telegraph cruise between Sardinia and +Algiers: a busy and delightful period of bounding ardour, incessant toil, +growing hope and fresh interests, with behind and through all, the image +of his beloved. A few extracts from his correspondence with his +betrothed will give the note of these truly joyous years. ‘My profession +gives me all the excitement and interest I ever hope for, but the sorry +jade is obviously jealous of you.’—‘“Poor Fleeming,” in spite of wet, +cold and wind, clambering over moist, tarry slips, wandering among pools +of slush in waste places inhabited by wandering locomotives, grows +visibly stronger, has dismissed his office cough and cured his +toothache.’—‘The whole of the paying out and lifting machinery must be +designed and ordered in two or three days, and I am half crazy with work. +I like it though: it’s like a good ball, the excitement carries you +through.’—‘I was running to and from the ships and warehouse through +fierce gusts of rain and wind till near eleven, and you cannot think what +a pleasure it was to be blown about and think of you in your pretty +dress.’—‘I am at the works till ten and sometimes till eleven. But I +have a nice office to sit in, with a fire to myself, and bright brass +scientific instruments all round me, and books to read, and experiments +to make, and enjoy myself amazingly. I find the study of electricity so +entertaining that I am apt to neglect my other work.’ And for a last +taste, ‘Yesterday I had some charming electrical experiments. What shall +I compare them to—a new song? a Greek play?’ + +It was at this time besides that he made the acquaintance of Professor, +now Sir William, Thomson. To describe the part played by these two in +each other’s lives would lie out of my way. They worked together on the +Committee on Electrical Standards; they served together at the laying +down or the repair of many deep-sea cables; and Sir William was regarded +by Fleeming, not only with the ‘worship’ (the word is his own) due to +great scientific gifts, but with an ardour of personal friendship not +frequently excelled. To their association, Fleeming brought the valuable +element of a practical understanding; but he never thought or spoke of +himself where Sir William was in question; and I recall quite in his last +days, a singular instance of this modest loyalty to one whom he admired +and loved. He drew up a paper, in a quite personal interest, of his own +services; yet even here he must step out of his way, he must add, where +it had no claim to be added, his opinion that, in their joint work, the +contributions of Sir William had been always greatly the most valuable. +Again, I shall not readily forget with what emotion he once told me an +incident of their associated travels. On one of the mountain ledges of +Madeira, Fleeming’s pony bolted between Sir William. and the precipice +above; by strange good fortune and thanks to the steadiness of Sir +William’s horse, no harm was done; but for the moment, Fleeming saw his +friend hurled into the sea, and almost by his own act: it was a memory +that haunted him. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. 1859–1868. + + +Fleeming’s Marriage—His Married Life—Professional Difficulties—Life at +Claygate—Illness of Mrs. F. Jenkin; and of Fleeming—Appointment to the +Chair at Edinburgh. + +ON Saturday, Feb. 26, 1859, profiting by a holiday of four days, Fleeming +was married to Miss Austin at Northiam: a place connected not only with +his own family but with that of his bride as well. By Tuesday morning, +he was at work again, fitting out cableships at Birkenhead. Of the walk +from his lodgings to the works, I find a graphic sketch in one of his +letters: ‘Out over the railway bridge, along a wide road raised to the +level of a ground floor above the land, which, not being built upon, +harbours puddles, ponds, pigs, and Irish hovels;—so to the dock +warehouses, four huge piles of building with no windows, surrounded by a +wall about twelve feet high—in through the large gates, round which hang +twenty or thirty rusty Irish, playing pitch and toss and waiting for +employment;—on along the railway, which came in at the same gates and +which branches down between each vast block—past a pilot-engine butting +refractory trucks into their places—on to the last block, [and] down the +branch, sniffing the guano-scented air and detecting the old bones. The +hartshorn flavour of the guano becomes very strong, as I near the docks +where, across the _Elba’s_ decks, a huge vessel is discharging her cargo +of the brown dust, and where huge vessels have been discharging that same +cargo for the last five months.’ This was the walk he took his young +wife on the morrow of his return. She had been used to the society of +lawyers and civil servants, moving in that circle which seems to itself +the pivot of the nation and is in truth only a clique like another; and +Fleeming was to her the nameless assistant of a nameless firm of +engineers, doing his inglorious business, as she now saw for herself, +among unsavoury surroundings. But when their walk brought them within +view of the river, she beheld a sight to her of the most novel beauty: +four great, sea-going ships dressed out with flags. ‘How lovely!’ she +cried. ‘What is it for?’—‘For you,’ said Fleeming. Her surprise was +only equalled by her pleasure. But perhaps, for what we may call private +fame, there is no life like that of the engineer; who is a great man in +out-of-the-way places, by the dockside or on the desert island or in +populous ships, and remains quite unheard of in the coteries of London. +And Fleeming had already made his mark among the few who had an +opportunity of knowing him. + +His marriage was the one decisive incident of his career; from that +moment until the day of his death, he had one thought to which all the +rest were tributary, the thought of his wife. No one could know him even +slightly, and not remark the absorbing greatness of that sentiment; nor +can any picture of the man be drawn that does not in proportion dwell +upon it. This is a delicate task; but if we are to leave behind us (as +we wish) some presentment of the friend we have lost, it is a task that +must be undertaken. + +For all his play of mind and fancy, for all his indulgence—and, as time +went on, he grew indulgent—Fleeming had views of duty that were even +stern. He was too shrewd a student of his fellow-men to remain long +content with rigid formulæ of conduct. Iron-bound, impersonal ethics, +the procrustean bed of rules, he soon saw at their true value as the +deification of averages. ‘As to Miss (I declare I forget her name) being +bad,’ I find him writing, ‘people only mean that she has broken the +Decalogue—which is not at all the same thing. People who have kept in +the high-road of Life really have less opportunity for taking a +comprehensive view of it than those who have leaped over the hedges and +strayed up the hills; not but what the hedges are very necessary, and our +stray travellers often have a weary time of it. So, you may say, have +those in the dusty roads.’ Yet he was himself a very stern respecter of +the hedgerows; sought safety and found dignity in the obvious path of +conduct; and would palter with no simple and recognised duty of his +epoch. Of marriage in particular, of the bond so formed, of the +obligations incurred, of the debt men owe to their children, he conceived +in a truly antique spirit: not to blame others, but to constrain himself. +It was not to blame, I repeat, that he held these views; for others, he +could make a large allowance; and yet he tacitly expected of his friends +and his wife a high standard of behaviour. Nor was it always easy to +wear the armour of that ideal. + +Acting upon these beliefs; conceiving that he had indeed ‘given himself’ +(in the full meaning of these words) for better, for worse; painfully +alive to his defects of temper and deficiency in charm; resolute to make +up for these; thinking last of himself: Fleeming was in some ways the +very man to have made a noble, uphill fight of an unfortunate marriage. +In other ways, it is true he was one of the most unfit for such a trial. +And it was his beautiful destiny to remain to the last hour the same +absolute and romantic lover, who had shown to his new bride the +flag-draped vessels in the Mersey. No fate is altogether easy; but +trials are our touchstone, trials overcome our reward; and it was given +to Fleeming to conquer. It was given to him to live for another, not as +a task, but till the end as an enchanting pleasure. ‘People may write +novels,’ he wrote in 1869, ‘and other people may write poems, but not a +man or woman among them can write to say how happy a man may be, who is +desperately in love with his wife after ten years of marriage.’ And +again in 1885, after more than twenty-six years of marriage, and within +but five weeks of his death: ‘Your first letter from Bournemouth,’ he +wrote, ‘gives me heavenly pleasure—for which I thank Heaven and you +too—who are my heaven on earth.’ The mind hesitates whether to say that +such a man has been more good or more fortunate. + +Any woman (it is the defect of her sex) comes sooner to the stable mind +of maturity than any man; and Jenkin was to the end of a most deliberate +growth. In the next chapter, when I come to deal with his telegraphic +voyages and give some taste of his correspondence, the reader will still +find him at twenty-five an arrant school-boy. His wife besides was more +thoroughly educated than he. In many ways she was able to teach him, and +he proud to be taught; in many ways she outshone him, and he delighted to +be outshone. All these superiorities, and others that, after the manner +of lovers, he no doubt forged for himself, added as time went on to the +humility of his original love. Only once, in all I know of his career, +did he show a touch of smallness. He could not learn to sing correctly; +his wife told him so and desisted from her lessons; and the mortification +was so sharply felt that for years he could not be induced to go to a +concert, instanced himself as a typical man without an ear, and never +sang again. I tell it; for the fact that this stood singular in his +behaviour, and really amazed all who knew him, is the happiest way I can +imagine to commend the tenor of his simplicity; and because it +illustrates his feeling for his wife. Others were always welcome to +laugh at him; if it amused them, or if it amused him, he would proceed +undisturbed with his occupation, his vanity invulnerable. With his wife +it was different: his wife had laughed at his singing; and for twenty +years the fibre ached. Nothing, again, was more notable than the formal +chivalry of this unmannered man to the person on earth with whom he was +the most familiar. He was conscious of his own innate and often rasping +vivacity and roughness and he was never forgetful of his first visit to +the Austins and the vow he had registered on his return. There was thus +an artificial element in his punctilio that at times might almost raise a +smile. But it stood on noble grounds; for this was how he sought to +shelter from his own petulance the woman who was to him the symbol of the +household and to the end the beloved of his youth. + +I wish in this chapter to chronicle small beer; taking a hasty glance at +some ten years of married life and of professional struggle; and +reserving till the next all the more interesting matter of his cruises. +Of his achievements and their worth, it is not for me to speak: his +friend and partner, Sir William Thomson, has contributed a note on the +subject, which will be found in the Appendix, and to which I must refer +the reader. He is to conceive in the meanwhile for himself Fleeming’s +manifold engagements: his service on the Committee on Electrical +Standards, his lectures on electricity at Chatham, his chair at the +London University, his partnership with Sir William Thomson and Mr. +Varley in many ingenious patents, his growing credit with engineers and +men of science; and he is to bear in mind that of all this activity and +acquist of reputation, the immediate profit was scanty. Soon after his +marriage, Fleeming had left the service of Messrs. Liddell & Gordon, and +entered into a general engineering partnership with Mr. Forde, a +gentleman in a good way of business. It was a fortunate partnership in +this, that the parties retained their mutual respect unlessened and +separated with regret; but men’s affairs, like men, have their times of +sickness, and by one of these unaccountable variations, for hard upon ten +years the business was disappointing and the profits meagre. ‘Inditing +drafts of German railways which will never get made’: it is thus I find +Fleeming, not without a touch of bitterness, describe his occupation. +Even the patents hung fire at first. There was no salary to rely on; +children were coming and growing up; the prospect was often anxious. In +the days of his courtship, Fleeming had written to Miss Austin a +dissuasive picture of the trials of poverty, assuring her these were no +figments but truly bitter to support; he told her this, he wrote, +beforehand, so that when the pinch came and she suffered, she should not +be disappointed in herself nor tempted to doubt her own magnanimity: a +letter of admirable wisdom and solicitude. But now that the trouble +came, he bore it very lightly. It was his principle, as he once prettily +expressed it, ‘to enjoy each day’s happiness, as it arises, like birds or +children.’ His optimism, if driven out at the door, would come in again +by the window; if it found nothing but blackness in the present, would +hit upon some ground of consolation in the future or the past. And his +courage and energy were indefatigable. In the year 1863, soon after the +birth of their first son, they moved into a cottage at Claygate near +Esher; and about this time, under manifold troubles both of money and +health, I find him writing from abroad: ‘The country will give us, please +God, health and strength. I will love and cherish you more than ever, +you shall go where you wish, you shall receive whom you wish—and as for +money you shall have that too. I cannot be mistaken. I have now +measured myself with many men. I do not feel weak, I do not feel that I +shall fail. In many things I have succeeded, and I will in this. And +meanwhile the time of waiting, which, please Heaven, shall not be long, +shall also not be so bitter. Well, well, I promise much, and do not know +at this moment how you and the dear child are. If he is but better, +courage, my girl, for I see light.’ + +This cottage at Claygate stood just without the village, well surrounded +with trees and commanding a pleasant view. A piece of the garden was +turfed over to form a croquet green, and Fleeming became (I need scarce +say) a very ardent player. He grew ardent, too, in gardening. This he +took up at first to please his wife, having no natural inclination; but +he had no sooner set his hand to it, than, like everything else he +touched, it became with him a passion. He budded roses, he potted +cuttings in the coach-house; if there came a change of weather at night, +he would rise out of bed to protect his favourites; when he was thrown +with a dull companion, it was enough for him to discover in the man a +fellow gardener; on his travels, he would go out of his way to visit +nurseries and gather hints; and to the end of his life, after other +occupations prevented him putting his own hand to the spade, he drew up a +yearly programme for his gardener, in which all details were regulated. +He had begun by this time to write. His paper on Darwin, which had the +merit of convincing on one point the philosopher himself, had indeed been +written before this in London lodgings; but his pen was not idle at +Claygate; and it was here he wrote (among other things) that review of +‘_Fecundity_, _Fertility_, _Sterility_, _and Allied Topics_,’ which Dr. +Matthews Duncan prefixed by way of introduction to the second edition of +the work. The mere act of writing seems to cheer the vanity of the most +incompetent; but a correction accepted by Darwin, and a whole review +borrowed and reprinted by Matthews Duncan are compliments of a rare +strain, and to a man still unsuccessful must have been precious indeed. +There was yet a third of the same kind in store for him; and when Munro +himself owned that he had found instruction in the paper on Lucretius, we +may say that Fleeming had been crowned in the capitol of reviewing. + +Croquet, charades, Christmas magic lanterns for the village children, an +amateur concert or a review article in the evening; plenty of hard work +by day; regular visits to meetings of the British Association, from one +of which I find him characteristically writing: ‘I cannot say that I have +had any amusement yet, but I am enjoying the dulness and dry bustle of +the whole thing’; occasional visits abroad on business, when he would +find the time to glean (as I have said) gardening hints for himself, and +old folk-songs or new fashions of dress for his wife; and the continual +study and care of his children: these were the chief elements of his +life. Nor were friends wanting. Captain and Mrs. Jenkin, Mr. and Mrs. +Austin, Clerk Maxwell, Miss Bell of Manchester, and others came to them +on visits. Mr. Hertslet of the Foreign Office, his wife and his +daughter, were neighbours and proved kind friends; in 1867 the Howitts +came to Claygate and sought the society of ‘the two bright, clever young +people’; {113} and in a house close by, Mr. Frederick Ricketts came to +live with his family. Mr. Ricketts was a valued friend during his short +life; and when he was lost with every circumstance of heroism in the _La +Plata_, Fleeming mourned him sincerely. + +I think I shall give the best idea of Fleeming in this time of his early +married life, by a few sustained extracts from his letters to his wife, +while she was absent on a visit in 1864. + + ‘_Nov._ 11.—Sunday was too wet to walk to Isleworth, for which I was + sorry, so I staid and went to Church and thought of you at Ardwick + all through the Commandments, and heard Dr. — expound in a remarkable + way a prophecy of St. Paul’s about Roman Catholics, which _mutatis + mutandis_ would do very well for Protestants in some parts. Then I + made a little nursery of Borecole and Enfield market cabbage, + grubbing in wet earth with leggings and gray coat on. Then I tidied + up the coach-house to my own and Christine’s admiration. Then + encouraged by _bouts-rimés_ I wrote you a copy of verses; high time I + think; I shall just save my tenth year of knowing my lady-love + without inditing poetry or rhymes to her. + + ‘Then I rummaged over the box with my father’s letters and found + interesting notes from myself. One I should say my first letter, + which little Austin I should say would rejoice to see and shall + see—with a drawing of a cottage and a spirited “cob.” What was more + to the purpose, I found with it a paste-cutter which Mary begged + humbly for Christine and I generously gave this morning. + + ‘Then I read some of Congreve. There are admirable scenes in the + manner of Sheridan; all wit and no character, or rather one character + in a great variety of situations and scenes. I could show you some + scenes, but others are too coarse even for my stomach hardened by a + course of French novels. + + ‘All things look so happy for the rain. + + ‘_Nov._ 16.—Verbenas looking well. . . . I am but a poor creature + without you; I have naturally no spirit or fun or enterprise in me. + Only a kind of mechanical capacity for ascertaining whether two + really is half four, etc.; but when you are near me I can fancy that + I too shine, and vainly suppose it to be my proper light; whereas by + my extreme darkness when you are not by, it clearly can only be by a + reflected brilliance that I seem aught but dull. Then for the moral + part of me: if it were not for you and little Odden, I should feel by + no means sure that I had any affection power in me. . . . Even the + muscular me suffers a sad deterioration in your absence. I don’t get + up when I ought to, I have snoozed in my chair after dinner; I do not + go in at the garden with my wonted vigour, and feel ten times as + tired as usual with a walk in your absence; so you see, when you are + not by, I am a person without ability, affections or vigour, but + droop dull, selfish, and spiritless; can you wonder that I love you? + + ‘_Nov._ 17.—. . . I am very glad we married young. I would not have + missed these five years, no, not for any hopes; they are my own. + + ‘_Nov._ 30.—I got through my Chatham lecture very fairly though + almost all my apparatus went astray. I dined at the mess, and got + home to Isleworth the same evening; your father very kindly sitting + up for me. + + ‘_Dec._ 1.—Back at dear Claygate. Many cuttings flourish, especially + those which do honour to your hand. Your Californian annuals are up + and about. Badger is fat, the grass green. . . . + + ‘_Dec._ 3.—Odden will not talk of you, while you are away, having + inherited, as I suspect, his father’s way of declining to consider a + subject which is painful, as your absence is. . . . I certainly + should like to learn Greek and I think it would be a capital pastime + for the long winter evenings. . . . How things are misrated! I + declare croquet is a noble occupation compared to the pursuits of + business men. As for so-called idleness—that is, one form of it—I + vow it is the noblest aim of man. When idle, one can love, one can + be good, feel kindly to all, devote oneself to others, be thankful + for existence, educate one’s mind, one’s heart, one’s body. When + busy, as I am busy now or have been busy to-day, one feels just as + you sometimes felt when you were too busy, owing to want of servants. + + ‘_Dec._ 5.—On Sunday I was at Isleworth, chiefly engaged in playing + with Odden. We had the most enchanting walk together through the + brickfields. It was very muddy, and, as he remarked, not fit for + Nanna, but fit for us _men_. The dreary waste of bared earth, + thatched sheds and standing water, was a paradise to him; and when we + walked up planks to deserted mixing and crushing mills, and actually + saw where the clay was stirred with long iron prongs, and chalk or + lime ground with “a tind of a mill,” his expression of contentment + and triumphant heroism knew no limit to its beauty. Of course on + returning I found Mrs. Austin looking out at the door in an anxious + manner, and thinking we had been out quite long enough. . . . I am + reading Don Quixote chiefly and am his fervent admirer, but I am so + sorry he did not place his affections on a Dulcinea of somewhat + worthier stamp. In fact I think there must be a mistake about it. + Don Quixote might and would serve his lady in most preposterous + fashion, but I am sure he would have chosen a lady of merit. He + imagined her to be such no doubt, and drew a charming picture of her + occupations by the banks of the river; but in his other imaginations, + there was some kind of peg on which to hang the false costumes he + created; windmills are big, and wave their arms like giants; sheep in + the distance are somewhat like an army; a little boat on the + river-side must look much the same whether enchanted or belonging to + millers; but except that Dulcinea is a woman, she bears no + resemblance at all to the damsel of his imagination.’ + +At the time of these letters, the oldest son only was born to them. In +September of the next year, with the birth of the second, Charles Frewen, +there befell Fleeming a terrible alarm and what proved to be a lifelong +misfortune. Mrs. Jenkin was taken suddenly and alarmingly ill; Fleeming +ran a matter of two miles to fetch the doctor, and, drenched with sweat +as he was, returned with him at once in an open gig. On their arrival at +the house, Mrs. Jenkin half unconsciously took and kept hold of her +husband’s hand. By the doctor’s orders, windows and doors were set open +to create a thorough draught, and the patient was on no account to be +disturbed. Thus, then, did Fleeming pass the whole of that night, +crouching on the floor in the draught, and not daring to move lest he +should wake the sleeper. He had never been strong; energy had stood him +instead of vigour; and the result of that night’s exposure was flying +rheumatism varied by settled sciatica. Sometimes it quite disabled him, +sometimes it was less acute; but he was rarely free from it until his +death. I knew him for many years; for more than ten we were closely +intimate; I have lived with him for weeks; and during all this time, he +only once referred to his infirmity and then perforce as an excuse for +some trouble he put me to, and so slightly worded that I paid no heed. +This is a good measure of his courage under sufferings of which none but +the untried will think lightly. And I think it worth noting how this +optimist was acquainted with pain. It will seem strange only to the +superficial. The disease of pessimism springs never from real troubles, +which it braces men to bear, which it delights men to bear well. Nor +does it readily spring at all, in minds that have conceived of life as a +field of ordered duties, not as a chase in which to hunt for +gratifications. ‘We are not here to be happy, but to be good’; I wish he +had mended the phrase: ‘We are not here to be happy, but to try to be +good,’ comes nearer the modesty of truth. With such old-fashioned +morality, it is possible to get through life, and see the worst of it, +and feel some of the worst of it, and still acquiesce piously and even +gladly in man’s fate. Feel some of the worst of it, I say; for some of +the rest of the worst is, by this simple faith, excluded. + +It was in the year 1868, that the clouds finally rose. The business in +partnership with Mr. Forde began suddenly to pay well; about the same +time the patents showed themselves a valuable property; and but a little +after, Fleeming was appointed to the new chair of engineering in the +University of Edinburgh. Thus, almost at once, pecuniary embarrassments +passed for ever out of his life. Here is his own epilogue to the time at +Claygate, and his anticipations of the future in Edinburgh. + + ‘ . . . . The dear old house at Claygate is not let and the pretty + garden a mass of weeds. I feel rather as if we had behaved unkindly + to them. We were very happy there, but now that it is over I am + conscious of the weight of anxiety as to money which I bore all the + time. With you in the garden, with Austin in the coach-house, with + pretty songs in the little, low white room, with the moonlight in the + dear room up-stairs, ah, it was perfect; but the long walk, + wondering, pondering, fearing, scheming, and the dusty jolting + railway, and the horrid fusty office with its endless + disappointments, they are well gone. It is well enough to fight and + scheme and bustle about in the eager crowd here [in London] for a + while now and then, but not for a lifetime. What I have now is just + perfect. Study for winter, action for summer, lovely country for + recreation, a pleasant town for talk . . .’ + + + + +CHAPTER V.—NOTES OF TELEGRAPH VOYAGES, 1858 TO 1873. + + +BUT it is now time to see Jenkin at his life’s work. I have before me +certain imperfect series of letters written, as he says, ‘at hazard, for +one does not know at the time what is important and what is not’: the +earlier addressed to Miss Austin, after the betrothal; the later to Mrs. +Jenkin the young wife. I should premise that I have allowed myself +certain editorial freedoms, leaving out and splicing together much as he +himself did with the Bona cable: thus edited the letters speak for +themselves, and will fail to interest none who love adventure or +activity. Addressed as they were to her whom he called his ‘dear +engineering pupil,’ they give a picture of his work so clear that a child +may understand, and so attractive that I am half afraid their publication +may prove harmful, and still further crowd the ranks of a profession +already overcrowded. But their most engaging quality is the picture of +the writer; with his indomitable self-confidence and courage, his +readiness in every pinch of circumstance or change of plan, and his ever +fresh enjoyment of the whole web of human experience, nature, adventure, +science, toil and rest, society and solitude. It should be borne in mind +that the writer of these buoyant pages was, even while he wrote, harassed +by responsibility, stinted in sleep and often struggling with the +prostration of sea-sickness. To this last enemy, which he never +overcame, I have omitted, in my search after condensation, a good many +references; if they were all left, such was the man’s temper, they would +not represent one hundredth part of what he suffered, for he was never +given to complaint. But indeed he had met this ugly trifle, as he met +every thwart circumstance of life, with a certain pleasure of pugnacity; +and suffered it not to check him, whether in the exercise of his +profession or the pursuit of amusement. + + + +I. + + + ‘Birkenhead: April 18, 1858. + +‘Well, you should know, Mr. — having a contract to lay down a submarine +telegraph from Sardinia to Africa failed three times in the attempt. The +distance from land to land is about 140 miles. On the first occasion, +after proceeding some 70 miles, he had to cut the cable—the cause I +forget; he tried again, same result; then picked up about 20 miles of the +lost cable, spliced on a new piece, and very nearly got across that time, +but ran short of cable, and when but a few miles off Galita in very deep +water, had to telegraph to London for more cable to be manufactured and +sent out whilst he tried to stick to the end: for five days, I think, he +lay there sending and receiving messages, but heavy weather coming on the +cable parted and Mr. — went home in despair—at least I should think so. + +‘He then applied to those eminent engineers, R. S. Newall & Co., who made +and laid down a cable for him last autumn—Fleeming Jenkin (at the time in +considerable mental agitation) having the honour of fitting out the +_Elba_ for that purpose.’ [On this occasion, the _Elba_ has no cable to +lay; but] ‘is going out in the beginning of May to endeavour to fish up +the cables Mr. — lost. There are two ends at or near the shore: the +third will probably not be found within 20 miles from land. One of these +ends will be passed over a very big pulley or sheave at the bows, passed +six times round a big barrel or drum; which will be turned round by a +steam engine on deck, and thus wind up the cable, while the _Elba_ slowly +steams ahead. The cable is not wound round and round the drum as your +silk is wound on its reel, but on the contrary never goes round more than +six times, going off at one side as it comes on at the other, and going +down into the hold of the _Elba_ to be coiled along in a big coil or +skein. + +‘I went down to Gateshead to discuss with Mr. Newall the form which this +tolerably simple idea should take, and have been busy since I came here +drawing, ordering, and putting up the machinery—uninterfered with, thank +goodness, by any one. I own I like responsibility; it flatters one and +then, your father might say, I have more to gain than to lose. Moreover +I do like this bloodless, painless combat with wood and iron, forcing the +stubborn rascals to do my will, licking the clumsy cubs into an active +shape, seeing the child of to-day’s thought working to-morrow in full +vigour at his appointed task. + + ‘May 12. + +‘By dint of bribing, bullying, cajoling, and going day by day to see the +state of things ordered, all my work is very nearly ready now; but those +who have neglected these precautions are of course disappointed. Five +hundred fathoms of chain [were] ordered by—some three weeks since, to be +ready by the 10th without fail; he sends for it to-day—150 fathoms all +they can let us have by the 15th—and how the rest is to be got, who +knows? He ordered a boat a month since and yesterday we could see +nothing of her but the keel and about two planks. I could multiply +instances without end. At first one goes nearly mad with vexation at +these things; but one finds so soon that they are the rule, that then it +becomes necessary to feign a rage one does not feel. I look upon it as +the natural order of things, that if I order a thing, it will not be +done—if by accident it gets done, it will certainly be done wrong: the +only remedy being to watch the performance at every stage. + +‘To-day was a grand field-day. I had steam up and tried the engine +against pressure or resistance. One part of the machinery is driven by a +belt or strap of leather. I always had my doubts this might slip; and so +it did, wildly. I had made provision for doubling it, putting on two +belts instead of one. No use—off they went, slipping round and off the +pulleys instead of driving the machinery. Tighten them—no use. More +strength there—down with the lever—smash something, tear the belts, but +get them tight—now then, stand clear, on with the steam;—and the belts +slip away as if nothing held them. Men begin to look queer; the circle +of quidnuncs make sage remarks. Once more—no use. I begin to know I +ought to feel sheepish and beat, but somehow I feel cocky instead. I +laugh and say, “Well, I am bound to break something down”—and suddenly +see. “Oho, there’s the place; get weight on there, and the belt won’t +slip.” With much labour, on go the belts again. “Now then, a spar thro’ +there and six men’s weight on; mind you’re not carried away.”—“Ay, ay, +sir.” But evidently no one believes in the plan. “Hurrah, round she +goes—stick to your spar. All right, shut off steam.” And the difficulty +is vanquished. + +‘This or such as this (not always quite so bad) occurs hour after hour, +while five hundred tons of coal are rattling down into the holds and +bunkers, riveters are making their infernal row all round, and riggers +bend the sails and fit the rigging:—a sort of Pandemonium, it appeared to +young Mrs. Newall, who was here on Monday and half-choked with guano; but +it suits the likes o’ me. + + ‘S. S. _Elba_, River Mersey: May 17. + +‘We are delayed in the river by some of the ship’s papers not being +ready. Such a scene at the dock gates. Not a sailor will join till the +last moment; and then, just as the ship forges ahead through the narrow +pass, beds and baggage fly on board, the men half tipsy clutch at the +rigging, the captain swears, the women scream and sob, the crowd cheer +and laugh, while one or two pretty little girls stand still and cry +outright, regardless of all eyes. + +‘These two days of comparative peace have quite set me on my legs again. +I was getting worn and weary with anxiety and work. As usual I have been +delighted with my shipwrights. I gave them some beer on Saturday, making +a short oration. To-day when they went ashore and I came on board, they +gave three cheers, whether for me or the ship I hardly know, but I had +just bid them good-bye, and the ship was out of hail; but I was startled +and hardly liked to claim the compliment by acknowledging it. + + ‘S. S. _Elba_: May 25. + +‘My first intentions of a long journal have been fairly frustrated by +sea-sickness. On Tuesday last about noon we started from the Mersey in +very dirty weather, and were hardly out of the river when we met a gale +from the south-west and a heavy sea, both right in our teeth; and the +poor _Elba_ had a sad shaking. Had I not been very sea-sick, the sight +would have been exciting enough, as I sat wrapped in my oilskins on the +bridge; [but] in spite of all my efforts to talk, to eat, and to grin, I +soon collapsed into imbecility; and I was heartily thankful towards +evening to find myself in bed. + +‘Next morning, I fancied it grew quieter and, as I listened, heard, “Let +go the anchor,” whereon I concluded we had run into Holyhead Harbour, as +was indeed the case. All that day we lay in Holyhead, but I could +neither read nor write nor draw. The captain of another steamer which +had put in came on board, and we all went for a walk on the hill; and in +the evening there was an exchange of presents. We gave some tobacco I +think, and received a cat, two pounds of fresh butter, a Cumberland ham, +_Westward Ho_! and Thackeray’s _English Humourists_. I was astonished at +receiving two such fair books from the captain of a little coasting +screw. Our captain said he [the captain of the screw] had plenty of +money, five or six hundred a year at least.—“What in the world makes him +go rolling about in such a craft, then?”—“Why, I fancy he’s reckless; +he’s desperate in love with that girl I mentioned, and she won’t look at +him.” Our honest, fat, old captain says this very grimly in his thick, +broad voice. + +‘My head won’t stand much writing yet, so I will run up and take a look +at the blue night sky off the coast of Portugal. + + ‘May 26. + +‘A nice lad of some two and twenty, A— by name, goes out in a nondescript +capacity as part purser, part telegraph clerk, part generally useful +person. A— was a great comfort during the miseries [of the gale]; for +when with a dead head wind and a heavy sea, plates, books, papers, +stomachs were being rolled about in sad confusion, we generally managed +to lie on our backs, and grin, and try discordant staves of the _Flowers +of the Forest_ and the _Low-backed Car_. We could sing and laugh, when +we could do nothing else; though A— was ready to swear after each fit was +past, that that was the first time he had felt anything, and at this +moment would declare in broad Scotch that he’d never been sick at all, +qualifying the oath with “except for a minute now and then.” He brought +a cornet-à-piston to practice on, having had three weeks’ instructions on +that melodious instrument; and if you could hear the horrid sounds that +come! especially at heavy rolls. When I hint he is not improving, there +comes a confession: “I don’t feel quite right yet, you see!” But he +blows away manfully, and in self-defence I try to roar the tune louder. + + ‘11:30 P.M. + +‘Long past Cape St. Vincent now. We went within about 400 yards of the +cliffs and light-house in a calm moonlight, with porpoises springing from +the sea, the men crooning long ballads as they lay idle on the forecastle +and the sails flapping uncertain on the yards. As we passed, there came +a sudden breeze from land, hot and heavy scented; and now as I write its +warm rich flavour contrasts strongly with the salt air we have been +breathing. + +‘I paced the deck with H—, the second mate, and in the quiet night drew a +confession that he was engaged to be married, and gave him a world of +good advice. He is a very nice, active, little fellow, with a broad +Scotch tongue and “dirty, little rascal” appearance. He had a sad +disappointment at starting. Having been second mate on the last voyage, +when the first mate was discharged, he took charge of the _Elba_ all the +time she was in port, and of course looked forward to being chief mate +this trip. Liddell promised him the post. He had not authority to do +this; and when Newall heard of it, he appointed another man. Fancy poor +H— having told all the men and most of all, his sweetheart. But more +remains behind; for when it came to signing articles, it turned out that +O—, the new first mate, had not a certificate which allowed him to have a +second mate. Then came rather an affecting scene. For H— proposed to +sign as chief (he having the necessary higher certificate) but to act as +second for the lower wages. At first O— would not give in, but offered +to go as second. But our brave little H— said, no: “The owners wished +Mr. O— to be chief mate, and chief mate he should be.” So he carried the +day, signed as chief and acts as second. Shakespeare and Byron are his +favourite books. I walked into Byron a little, but can well understand +his stirring up a rough, young sailor’s romance. I lent him _Westward +Ho_ from the cabin; but to my astonishment he did not care much for it; +he said it smelt of the shilling railway library; perhaps I had praised +it too highly. Scott is his standard for novels. I am very happy to +find good taste by no means confined to gentlemen, H— having no +pretensions to that title. He is a man after my own heart. + +‘Then I came down to the cabin and heard young A—’s schemes for the +future. His highest picture is a commission in the Prince of +Vizianagram’s irregular horse. His eldest brother is tutor to his +Highness’s children, and grand vizier, and magistrate, and on his +Highness’s household staff, and seems to be one of those Scotch +adventurers one meets with and hears of in queer berths—raising cavalry, +building palaces, and using some petty Eastern king’s long purse with +their long Scotch heads. + + ‘Off Bona; June 4. + +‘I read your letter carefully, leaning back in a Maltese boat to present +the smallest surface of my body to a grilling sun, and sailing from the +_Elba_ to Cape Hamrah about three miles distant. How we fried and +sighed! At last, we reached land under Fort Genova, and I was carried +ashore pick-a-back, and plucked the first flower I saw for Annie. It was +a strange scene, far more novel than I had imagined: the high, steep +banks covered with rich, spicy vegetation of which I hardly knew one +plant. The dwarf palm with fan-like leaves, growing about two feet high, +formed the staple of the verdure. As we brushed through them, the gummy +leaves of a cistus stuck to the clothes; and with its small white flower +and yellow heart, stood for our English dog-rose. In place of heather, +we had myrtle and lentisque with leaves somewhat similar. That large +bulb with long flat leaves? Do not touch it if your hands are cut; the +Arabs use it as blisters for their horses. Is that the same sort? No, +take that one up; it is the bulb of a dwarf palm, each layer of the onion +peels off, brown and netted, like the outside of a cocoa-nut. It is a +clever plant that; from the leaves we get a vegetable horsehair;—and eat +the bottom of the centre spike. All the leaves you pull have the same +aromatic scent. But here a little patch of cleared ground shows old +friends, who seem to cling by abused civilisation:—fine, hardy thistles, +one of them bright yellow, though;—honest, Scotch-looking, large daisies +or gowans;—potatoes here and there, looking but sickly; and dark sturdy +fig-trees looking cool and at their ease in the burning sun. + +‘Here we are at Fort Genova, crowning the little point, a small old +building, due to my old Genoese acquaintance who fought and traded +bravely once upon a time. A broken cannon of theirs forms the threshold; +and through a dark, low arch, we enter upon broad terraces sloping to the +centre, from which rain water may collect and run into that well. +Large-breeched French troopers lounge about and are most civil; and the +whole party sit down to breakfast in a little white-washed room, from the +door of which the long, mountain coastline and the sparkling sea show of +an impossible blue through the openings of a white-washed rampart. I try +a sea-egg, one of those prickly fellows—sea-urchins, they are called +sometimes; the shell is of a lovely purple, and when opened, there are +rays of yellow adhering to the inside; these I eat, but they are very +fishy. + +‘We are silent and shy of one another, and soon go out to watch while +turbaned, blue-breeched, barelegged Arabs dig holes for the land +telegraph posts on the following principle: one man takes a pick and +bangs lazily at the hard earth; when a little is loosened, his mate with +a small spade lifts it on one side; and _da capo_. They have regular +features and look quite in place among the palms. Our English workmen +screw the earthenware insulators on the posts, strain the wire, and order +Arabs about by the generic term of Johnny. I find W— has nothing for me +to do; and that in fact no one has anything to do. Some instruments for +testing have stuck at Lyons, some at Cagliari; and nothing can be done—or +at any rate, is done. I wander about, thinking of you and staring at +big, green grasshoppers—locusts, some people call them—and smelling the +rich brushwood. There was nothing for a pencil to sketch, and I soon got +tired of this work, though I have paid willingly much money for far less +strange and lovely sights. + + ‘Off Cape Spartivento: June 8. + +‘At two this morning, we left Cagliari; at five cast anchor here. I got +up and began preparing for the final trial; and shortly afterwards +everyone else of note on board went ashore to make experiments on the +state of the cable, leaving me with the prospect of beginning to lift at +12 o’clock. I was not ready by that time; but the experiments were not +concluded and moreover the cable was found to be imbedded some four or +five feet in sand, so that the boat could not bring off the end. At +three, Messrs. Liddell, &c., came on board in good spirits, having found +two wires good or in such a state as permitted messages to be transmitted +freely. The boat now went to grapple for the cable some way from shore +while the _Elba_ towed a small lateen craft which was to take back the +consul to Cagliari some distance on its way. On our return we found the +boat had been unsuccessful; she was allowed to drop astern, while we +grappled for the cable in the _Elba_ [without more success]. The coast +is a low mountain range covered with brushwood or heather—pools of water +and a sandy beach at their feet. I have not yet been ashore, my hands +having been very full all day. + + ‘June 9. + +‘Grappling for the cable outside the bank had been voted too uncertain; +[and the day was spent in] efforts to pull the cable off through the sand +which has accumulated over it. By getting the cable tight on to the +boat, and letting the swell pitch her about till it got slack, and then +tightening again with blocks and pulleys, we managed to get out from the +beach towards the ship at the rate of about twenty yards an hour. When +they had got about 100 yards from shore, we ran round in the _Elba_ to +try and help them, letting go the anchor in the shallowest possible +water, this was about sunset. Suddenly someone calls out he sees the +cable at the bottom: there it was sure enough, apparently wriggling about +as the waves rippled. Great excitement; still greater when we find our +own anchor is foul of it and has been the means of bringing it to light. +We let go a grapnel, get the cable clear of the anchor on to the +grapnel—the captain in an agony lest we should drift ashore +meanwhile—hand the grappling line into the big boat, steam out far +enough, and anchor again. A little more work and one end of the cable is +up over the bows round my drum. I go to my engine and we start hauling +in. All goes pretty well, but it is quite dark. Lamps are got at last, +and men arranged. We go on for a quarter of a mile or so from shore and +then stop at about half-past nine with orders to be up at three. Grand +work at last! A number of the _Saturday Review_ here; it reads so hot +and feverish, so tomblike and unhealthy, in the midst of dear Nature’s +hills and sea, with good wholesome work to do. Pray that all go well +to-morrow. + + ‘June 10. + +‘Thank heaven for a most fortunate day. At three o’clock this morning in +a damp, chill mist all hands were roused to work. With a small delay, +for one or two improvements I had seen to be necessary last night, the +engine started and since that time I do not think there has been half an +hour’s stoppage. A rope to splice, a block to change, a wheel to oil, an +old rusted anchor to disengage from the cable which brought it up, these +have been our only obstructions. Sixty, seventy, eighty, a hundred, a +hundred and twenty revolutions at last, my little engine tears away. The +even black rope comes straight out of the blue heaving water: passes +slowly round an open-hearted, good-tempered looking pulley, five feet +diameter; aft past a vicious nipper, to bring all up should anything go +wrong; through a gentle guide; on to a huge bluff drum, who wraps him +round his body and says “Come you must,” as plain as drum can speak: the +chattering pauls say “I’ve got him, I’ve got him, he can’t get back:” +whilst black cable, much slacker and easier in mind and body, is taken by +a slim V-pulley and passed down into the huge hold, where half a dozen +men put him comfortably to bed after his exertion in rising from his long +bath. In good sooth, it is one of the strangest sights I know to see +that black fellow rising up so steadily in the midst of the blue sea. We +are more than half way to the place where we expect the fault; and +already the one wire, supposed previously to be quite bad near the +African coast, can be spoken through. I am very glad I am here, for my +machines are my own children and I look on their little failings with a +parent’s eye and lead them into the path of duty with gentleness and +firmness. I am naturally in good spirits, but keep very quiet, for +misfortunes may arise at any instant; moreover to-morrow my paying-out +apparatus will be wanted should all go well, and that will be another +nervous operation. Fifteen miles are safely in; but no one knows better +than I do that nothing is done till all is done. + + ‘June 11. + +‘9 A.M.—We have reached the splice supposed to be faulty, and no fault +has been found. The two men learned in electricity, L— and W—, squabble +where the fault is. + +‘_Evening_.—A weary day in a hot broiling sun; no air. After the +experiments, L— said the fault might be ten miles ahead: by that time, we +should be according to a chart in about a thousand fathoms of +water—rather more than a mile. It was most difficult to decide whether +to go on or not. I made preparations for a heavy pull, set small things +to rights and went to sleep. About four in the afternoon, Mr. Liddell +decided to proceed, and we are now (at seven) grinding it in at the rate +of a mile and three-quarters per hour, which appears a grand speed to us. +If the paying-out only works well! I have just thought of a great +improvement in it; I can’t apply it this time, however.—The sea is of an +oily calm, and a perfect fleet of brigs and ships surrounds us, their +sails hardly filling in the lazy breeze. The sun sets behind the dim +coast of the Isola San Pietro, the coast of Sardinia high and rugged +becomes softer and softer in the distance, while to the westward still +the isolated rock of Toro springs from the horizon.—It would amuse you to +see how cool (in head) and jolly everybody is. A testy word now and then +shows the wires are strained a little, but everyone laughs and makes his +little jokes as if it were all in fun: yet we are all as much in earnest +as the most earnest of the earnest bastard German school or demonstrative +of Frenchmen. I enjoy it very much. + + ‘June 12. + +‘5.30 A.M.—Out of sight of land: about thirty nautical miles in the hold; +the wind rising a little; experiments being made for a fault, while the +engine slowly revolves to keep us hanging at the same spot: depth +supposed about a mile. The machinery has behaved admirably. Oh! that +the paying-out were over! The new machinery there is but rough, meant +for an experiment in shallow water, and here we are in a mile of water. + +‘6.30.—I have made my calculations and find the new paying-out gear +cannot possibly answer at this depth, some portion would give way. +Luckily, I have brought the old things with me and am getting them rigged +up as fast as may be. Bad news from the cable. Number four has given in +some portion of the last ten miles: the fault in number three is still at +the bottom of the sea: number two is now the only good wire and the hold +is getting in such a mess, through keeping bad bits out and cutting for +splicing and testing, that there will be great risk in paying out. The +cable is somewhat strained in its ascent from one mile below us; what it +will be when we get to two miles is a problem we may have to determine. + +‘9 P.M.—A most provoking unsatisfactory day. We have done nothing. The +wind and sea have both risen. Too little notice has been given to the +telegraphists who accompany this expedition; they had to leave all their +instruments at Lyons in order to arrive at Bona in time; our tests are +therefore of the roughest, and no one really knows where the faults are. +Mr. L— in the morning lost much time; then he told us, after we had been +inactive for about eight hours, that the fault in number three was within +six miles; and at six o’clock in the evening, when all was ready for a +start to pick up these six miles, he comes and says there must be a fault +about thirty miles from Bona! By this time it was too late to begin +paying out to-day, and we must lie here moored in a thousand fathoms till +light to-morrow morning. The ship pitches a good deal, but the wind is +going down. + + ‘June 13, Sunday. + +‘The wind has not gone down, however. It now (at 10.30) blows a pretty +stiff gale, the sea has also risen; and the _Elba’s_ bows rise and fall +about 9 feet. We make twelve pitches to the minute, and the poor cable +must feel very sea-sick by this time. We are quite unable to do +anything, and continue riding at anchor in one thousand fathoms, the +engines going constantly so as to keep the ship’s bows up to the cable, +which by this means hangs nearly vertical and sustains no strain but that +caused by its own weight and the pitching of the vessel. We were all up +at four, but the weather entirely forbade work for to-day, so some went +to bed and most lay down, making up our leeway as we nautically term our +loss of sleep. I must say Liddell is a fine fellow and keeps his +patience and temper wonderfully; and yet how he does fret and fume about +trifles at home! This wind has blown now for 36 hours, and yet we have +telegrams from Bona to say the sea there is as calm as a mirror. It +makes one laugh to remember one is still tied to the shore. Click, +click, click, the pecker is at work: I wonder what Herr P— says to Herr +L—,—tests, tests, tests, nothing more. This will be a very anxious day. + + ‘June 14. + +‘Another day of fatal inaction. + + ‘June 15. + +‘9.30.—The wind has gone down a deal; but even now there are doubts +whether we shall start to-day. When shall I get back to you? + +‘9 P.M.—Four miles from land. Our run has been successful and eventless. +Now the work is nearly over I feel a little out of spirits—why, I should +be puzzled to say—mere wantonness, or reaction perhaps after suspense. + + ‘June 16. + +‘Up this morning at three, coupled my self-acting gear to the brake and +had the satisfaction of seeing it pay out the last four miles in very +good style. With one or two little improvements, I hope to make it a +capital thing. The end has just gone ashore in two boats, three out of +four wires good. Thus ends our first expedition. By some odd chance a +_Times_ of June the 7th has found its way on board through the agency of +a wretched old peasant who watches the end of the line here. A long +account of breakages in the Atlantic trial trip. To-night we grapple for +the heavy cable, eight tons to the mile. I long to have a tug at him; he +may puzzle me, and though misfortunes or rather difficulties are a bore +at the time, life when working with cables is tame without them. + +‘2 P.M.—Hurrah, he is hooked, the big fellow, almost at the first cast. +He hangs under our bows looking so huge and imposing that I could find it +in my heart to be afraid of him. + + ‘June 17. + +‘We went to a little bay called Chia, where a fresh-water stream falls +into the sea, and took in water. This is rather a long operation, so I +went a walk up the valley with Mr. Liddell. The coast here consists of +rocky mountains 800 to 1,000 feet high covered with shrubs of a brilliant +green. On landing our first amusement was watching the hundreds of large +fish who lazily swam in shoals about the river; the big canes on the +further side hold numberless tortoises, we are told, but see none, for +just now they prefer taking a siesta. A little further on, and what is +this with large pink flowers in such abundance?—the oleander in full +flower. At first I fear to pluck them, thinking they must be cultivated +and valuable; but soon the banks show a long line of thick tall shrubs, +one mass of glorious pink and green. Set these in a little valley, +framed by mountains whose rocks gleam out blue and purple colours such as +pre-Raphaelites only dare attempt, shining out hard and weird-like +amongst the clumps of castor-oil plants, cistus, arbor vitæ and many +other evergreens, whose names, alas! I know not; the cistus is brown now, +the rest all deep or brilliant green. Large herds of cattle browse on +the baked deposit at the foot of these large crags. One or two +half-savage herdsmen in sheepskin kilts, &c., ask for cigars; partridges +whirr up on either side of us; pigeons coo and nightingales sing amongst +the blooming oleander. We get six sheep and many fowls, too, from the +priest of the small village; and then run back to Spartivento and make +preparations for the morning. + + ‘June 18. + +‘The big cable is stubborn and will not behave like his smaller brother. +The gear employed to take him off the drum is not strong enough; he gets +slack on the drum and plays the mischief. Luckily for my own conscience, +the gear I had wanted was negatived by Mr. Newall. Mr. Liddell does not +exactly blame me, but he says we might have had a silver pulley cheaper +than the cost of this delay. He has telegraphed for more men to +Cagliari, to try to pull the cable off the drum into the hold, by hand. +I look as comfortable as I can, but feel as if people were blaming me. I +am trying my best to get something rigged which may help us; I wanted a +little difficulty, and feel much better.—The short length we have picked +up was covered at places with beautiful sprays of coral, twisted and +twined with shells of those small, fairy animals we saw in the aquarium +at home; poor little things, they died at once, with their little bells +and delicate bright tints. + +‘12 _o’clock_.—Hurrah, victory! for the present anyhow. Whilst in our +first dejection, I thought I saw a place where a flat roller would remedy +the whole misfortune; but a flat roller at Cape Spartivento, hard, easily +unshipped, running freely! There was a grooved pulley used for the +paying-out machinery with a spindle wheel, which might suit me. I filled +him up with tarry spunyarn, nailed sheet copper round him, bent some +parts in the fire; and we are paying-in without more trouble now. You +would think some one would praise me; no, no more praise than blame +before; perhaps now they think better of me, though. + +‘10 P.M.—We have gone on very comfortably for nearly six miles. An hour +and a half was spent washing down; for along with many coloured polypi, +from corals, shells and insects, the big cable brings up much mud and +rust, and makes a fishy smell by no means pleasant: the bottom seems to +teem with life.—But now we are startled by a most unpleasant, grinding +noise; which appeared at first to come from the large low pulley, but +when the engines stopped, the noise continued; and we now imagine it is +something slipping down the cable, and the pulley but acts as +sounding-board to the big fiddle. Whether it is only an anchor or one of +the two other cables, we know not. We hope it is not the cable just laid +down. + + ‘June 19. + +‘10 A.M.—All our alarm groundless, it would appear: the odd noise ceased +after a time, and there was no mark sufficiently strong on the large +cable to warrant the suspicion that we had cut another line through. I +stopped up on the look-out till three in the morning, which made 23 hours +between sleep and sleep. One goes dozing about, though, most of the day, +for it is only when something goes wrong that one has to look alive. +Hour after hour, I stand on the forecastle-head, picking off little +specimens of polypi and coral, or lie on the saloon deck reading back +numbers of the _Times_—till something hitches, and then all is +hurly-burly once more. There are awnings all along the ship, and a most +ancient, fish-like smell beneath. + +‘1 _o’clock_.—Suddenly a great strain in only 95 fathoms of water—belts +surging and general dismay; grapnels being thrown out in the hope of +finding what holds the cable.—Should it prove the young cable! We are +apparently crossing its path—not the working one, but the lost child; Mr. +Liddell _would_ start the big one first though it was laid first: he +wanted to see the job done, and meant to leave us to the small one +unaided by his presence. + +‘3.30.—Grapnel caught something, lost it again; it left its marks on the +prongs. Started lifting gear again; and after hauling in some 50 +fathoms—grunt, grunt, grunt—we hear the other cable slipping down our big +one, playing the selfsame tune we heard last night—louder, however. + +‘10 P.M.—The pull on the deck engines became harder and harder. I got +steam up in a boiler on deck, and another little engine starts hauling at +the grapnel. I wonder if there ever was such a scene of confusion: Mr. +Liddell and W— and the captain all giving orders contradictory, &c., on +the forecastle; D—, the foreman of our men, the mates, &c., following the +example of our superiors; the ship’s engine and boilers below, a 50-horse +engine on deck, a boiler 14 feet long on deck beside it, a little steam +winch tearing round; a dozen Italians (20 have come to relieve our hands, +the men we telegraphed for to Cagliari) hauling at the rope; wiremen, +sailors, in the crevices left by ropes and machinery; everything that +could swear swearing—I found myself swearing like a trooper at last. We +got the unknown difficulty within ten fathoms of the surface; but then +the forecastle got frightened that, if it was the small cable which we +had got hold of, we should certainly break it by continuing the +tremendous and increasing strain. So at last Mr. Liddell decided to +stop; cut the big cable, buoying its end; go back to our pleasant +watering-place at Chia, take more water and start lifting the small +cable. The end of the large one has even now regained its sandy bed; and +three buoys—one to grapnel foul of the supposed small cable, two to the +big cable—are dipping about on the surface. One more—a flag-buoy—will +soon follow, and then straight for shore. + + ‘June 20. + +‘It is an ill-wind, &c. I have an unexpected opportunity of forwarding +this engineering letter; for the craft which brought out our Italian +sailors must return to Cagliari to-night, as the little cable will take +us nearly to Galita, and the Italian skipper could hardly find his way +from thence. To-day—Sunday—not much rest. Mr. Liddell is at Spartivento +telegraphing. We are at Chia, and shall shortly go to help our boat’s +crew in getting the small cable on board. We dropped them some time +since in order that they might dig it out of the sand as far as possible. + + ‘June 21. + +‘Yesterday—Sunday as it was—all hands were kept at work all day, coaling, +watering, and making a futile attempt to pull the cable from the shore on +board through the sand. This attempt was rather silly after the +experience we had gained at Cape Spartivento. This morning we grappled, +hooked the cable at once, and have made an excellent start. Though I +have called this the small cable, it is much larger than the Bona +one.—Here comes a break down and a bad one. + + ‘June 22. + +‘We got over it, however; but it is a warning to me that my future +difficulties will arise from parts wearing out. Yesterday the cable was +often a lovely sight, coming out of the water one large incrustation of +delicate, net-like corals and long, white curling shells. No portion of +the dirty black wires was visible; instead we had a garland of soft pink +with little scarlet sprays and white enamel intermixed. All was fragile, +however, and could hardly be secured in safety; and inexorable iron +crushed the tender leaves to atoms.—This morning at the end of my watch, +about 4 o’clock, we came to the buoys, proving our anticipations right +concerning the crossing of the cables. I went to bed for four hours, and +on getting up, found a sad mess. A tangle of the six-wire cable hung to +the grapnel which had been left buoyed, and the small cable had parted +and is lost for the present. Our hauling of the other day must have done +the mischief. + + ‘June 23. + +‘We contrived to get the two ends of the large cable and to pick the +short end up. The long end, leading us seaward, was next put round the +drum and a mile of it picked up; but then, fearing another tangle, the +end was cut and buoyed, and we returned to grapple for the three-wire +cable. All this is very tiresome for me. The buoying and dredging are +managed entirely by W—, who has had much experience in this sort of +thing; so I have not enough to do and get very homesick. At noon the +wind freshened and the sea rose so high that we had to run for land and +are once more this evening anchored at Chia. + + ‘June 24. + +‘The whole day spent in dredging without success. This operation +consists in allowing the ship to drift slowly across the line where you +expect the cable to be, while at the end of a long rope, fast either to +the bow or stern, a grapnel drags along the ground. This grapnel is a +small anchor, made like four pot-hooks tied back to back. When the rope +gets taut, the ship is stopped and the grapnel hauled up to the surface +in the hopes of finding the cable on its prongs.—I am much discontented +with myself for idly lounging about and reading _Westward Ho_! for the +second time, instead of taking to electricity or picking up nautical +information. I am uncommonly idle. The sea is not quite so rough, but +the weather is squally and the rain comes in frequent gusts. + + ‘June 25. + +‘To-day about 1 o’clock we hooked the three-wire cable, buoyed the long +sea end, and picked up the short [or shore] end. Now it is dark and we +must wait for morning before lifting the buoy we lowered to-day and +proceeding seawards.—The depth of water here is about 600 feet, the +height of a respectable English hill; our fishing line was about a +quarter of a mile long. It blows pretty fresh, and there is a great deal +of sea. + + ‘26th. + +‘This morning it came on to blow so heavily that it was impossible to +take up our buoy. The _Elba_ recommenced rolling in true Baltic style +and towards noon we ran for land. + + ‘27th, Sunday. + +‘This morning was a beautiful calm. We reached the buoys at about 4.30 +and commenced picking up at 6.30. Shortly a new cause of anxiety arose. +Kinks came up in great quantities, about thirty in the hour. To have a +true conception of a kink, you must see one: it is a loop drawn tight, +all the wires get twisted and the gutta-percha inside pushed out. These +much diminish the value of the cable, as they must all be cut out, the +gutta-percha made good, and the cable spliced. They arise from the cable +having been badly laid down so that it forms folds and tails at the +bottom of the sea. These kinks have another disadvantage: they weaken +the cable very much.—At about six o’clock [P.M.] we had some twelve miles +lifted, when I went to the bows; the kinks were exceedingly tight and +were giving way in a most alarming manner. I got a cage rigged up to +prevent the end (if it broke) from hurting anyone, and sat down on the +bowsprit, thinking I should describe kinks to Annie:—suddenly I saw a +great many coils and kinks altogether at the surface. I jumped to the +gutta-percha pipe, by blowing through which the signal is given to stop +the engine. I blow, but the engine does not stop; again—no answer: the +coils and kinks jam in the bows and I rush aft shouting stop. Too late: +the cable had parted and must lie in peace at the bottom. Someone had +pulled the gutta-percha tube across a bare part of the steam pipe and +melted it. It had been used hundreds of times in the last few days and +gave no symptoms of failing. I believe the cable must have gone at any +rate; however, since it went in my watch and since I might have secured +the tubing more strongly, I feel rather sad. . . . + + ‘June 28. + +‘Since I could not go to Annie I took down Shakespeare, and by the time I +had finished _Antony and Cleopatra_, read the second half of _Troilus_ +and got some way in _Coriolanus_, I felt it was childish to regret the +accident had happened in my watch, and moreover I felt myself not much to +blame in the tubing matter—it had been torn down, it had not fallen down; +so I went to bed, and slept without fretting, and woke this morning in +the same good mood—for which thank you and our friend Shakespeare. I am +happy to say Mr. Liddell said the loss of the cable did not much matter; +though this would have been no consolation had I felt myself to +blame.—This morning we have grappled for and found another length of +small cable which Mr. — dropped in 100 fathoms of water. If this also +gets full of kinks, we shall probably have to cut it after 10 miles or +so, or more probably still it will part of its own free will or weight. + +‘10 P.M.—This second length of three-wire cable soon got into the same +condition as its fellow—i.e. came up twenty kinks an hour—and after seven +miles were in, parted on the pulley over the bows at one of the said +kinks; during my watch again, but this time no earthly power could have +saved it. I had taken all manner of precautions to prevent the end doing +any damage when the smash came, for come I knew it must. We now return +to the six-wire cable. As I sat watching the cable to-night, large +phosphorescent globes kept rolling from it and fading in the black water. + + ‘29th. + +‘To-day we returned to the buoy we had left at the end of the six-wire +cable, and after much trouble from a series of tangles, got a fair start +at noon. You will easily believe a tangle of iron rope inch and a half +diameter is not easy to unravel, especially with a ton or so hanging to +the ends. It is now eight o’clock and we have about six and a half miles +safe: it becomes very exciting, however, for the kinks are coming fast +and furious. + + ‘July 2. + +‘Twenty-eight miles safe in the hold. The ship is now so deep, that the +men are to be turned out of their aft hold, and the remainder coiled +there; so the good _Elba’s_ nose need not burrow too far into the waves. +There can only be about 10 or 12 miles more, but these weigh 80 or 100 +tons. + + ‘July 5. + +‘Our first mate was much hurt in securing a buoy on the evening of the +2nd. As interpreter [with the Italians] I am useful in all these cases; +but for no fortune would I be a doctor to witness these scenes +continually. Pain is a terrible thing.—Our work is done: the whole of +the six-wire cable has been recovered; only a small part of the +three-wire, but that wire was bad and, owing to its twisted state, the +value small. We may therefore be said to have been very successful.’ + + + +II. + + +I have given this cruise nearly in full. From the notes, unhappily +imperfect, of two others, I will take only specimens; for in all there +are features of similarity and it is possible to have too much even of +submarine telegraphy and the romance of engineering. And first from the +cruise of 1859 in the Greek Islands and to Alexandria, take a few traits, +incidents and pictures. + + ‘May 10, 1859. + +‘We had a fair wind and we did very well, seeing a little bit of Cerig or +Cythera, and lots of turtle-doves wandering about over the sea and +perching, tired and timid, in the rigging of our little craft. Then +Falconera, Antimilo, and Milo, topped with huge white clouds, barren, +deserted, rising bold and mysterious from the blue, chafing +sea;—Argentiera, Siphano, Scapho, Paros, Antiparos, and late at night +Syra itself. _Adam Bede_ in one hand, a sketch-book in the other, lying +on rugs under an awning, I enjoyed a very pleasant day. + + ‘May 14. + +‘Syra is semi-eastern. The pavement, huge shapeless blocks sloping to a +central gutter; from this bare two-storied houses, sometimes plaster many +coloured, sometimes rough-hewn marble, rise, dirty and ill-finished to +straight, plain, flat roofs; shops guiltless of windows, with signs in +Greek letters; dogs, Greeks in blue, baggy, Zouave breeches and a fez, a +few narghilehs and a sprinkling of the ordinary continental shopboys.—In +the evening I tried one more walk in Syra with A—, but in vain +endeavoured to amuse myself or to spend money; the first effort resulting +in singing _Doodah_ to a passing Greek or two, the second in spending, +no, in making A— spend, threepence on coffee for three. + + ‘May 16. + +‘On coming on deck, I found we were at anchor in Canea bay, and saw one +of the most lovely sights man could witness. Far on either hand stretch +bold mountain capes, Spada and Maleka, tender in colour, bold in outline; +rich sunny levels lie beneath them, framed by the azure sea. Right in +front, a dark brown fortress girdles white mosques and minarets. Rich +and green, our mountain capes here join to form a setting for the town, +in whose dark walls—still darker—open a dozen high-arched caves in which +the huge Venetian galleys used to lie in wait. High above all, higher +and higher yet, up into the firmament, range after range of blue and +snow-capped mountains. I was bewildered and amazed, having heard nothing +of this great beauty. The town when entered is quite eastern. The +streets are formed of open stalls under the first story, in which squat +tailors, cooks, sherbet vendors and the like, busy at their work or +smoking narghilehs. Cloths stretched from house to house keep out the +sun. Mules rattle through the crowd; curs yelp between your legs; +negroes are as hideous and bright clothed as usual; grave Turks with long +chibouques continue to march solemnly without breaking them; a little +Arab in one dirty rag pokes fun at two splendid little Turks with +brilliant fezzes; wiry mountaineers in dirty, full, white kilts, +shouldering long guns and one hand on their pistols, stalk untamed past a +dozen Turkish soldiers, who look sheepish and brutal in worn cloth jacket +and cotton trousers. A headless, wingless lion of St. Mark still stands +upon a gate, and has left the mark of his strong clutch. Of ancient +times when Crete was Crete, not a trace remains; save perhaps in the +full, well-cut nostril and firm tread of that mountaineer, and I suspect +that even his sires were Albanians, mere outer barbarians. + + ‘May 17. + +I spent the day at the little station where the cable was landed, which +has apparently been first a Venetian monastery and then a Turkish mosque. +At any rate the big dome is very cool, and the little ones hold [our +electric] batteries capitally. A handsome young Bashibazouk guards it, +and a still handsomer mountaineer is the servant; so I draw them and the +monastery and the hill, till I’m black in the face with heat and come on +board to hear the Canea cable is still bad. + + ‘May 23. + +‘We arrived in the morning at the east end of Candia, and had a glorious +scramble over the mountains which seem built of adamant. Time has worn +away the softer portions of the rock, only leaving sharp jagged edges of +steel. Sea eagles soaring above our heads; old tanks, ruins, and +desolation at our feet. The ancient Arsinoe stood here; a few blocks of +marble with the cross attest the presence of Venetian Christians; but +now—the desolation of desolations. Mr. Liddell and I separated from the +rest, and when we had found a sure bay for the cable, had a tremendous +lively scramble back to the boat. These are the bits of our life which I +enjoy, which have some poetry, some grandeur in them. + + ‘May 29 (?). + +‘Yesterday we ran round to the new harbour [of Alexandria], landed the +shore end of the cable close to Cleopatra’s bath, and made a very +satisfactory start about one in the afternoon. We had scarcely gone 200 +yards when I noticed that the cable ceased to run out, and I wondered why +the ship had stopped. People ran aft to tell me not to put such a strain +on the cable; I answered indignantly that there was no strain; and +suddenly it broke on every one in the ship at once that we were aground. +Here was a nice mess. A violent scirocco blew from the land; making +one’s skin feel as if it belonged to some one else and didn’t fit, making +the horizon dim and yellow with fine sand, oppressing every sense and +raising the thermometer 20 degrees in an hour, but making calm water +round us which enabled the ship to lie for the time in safety. The wind +might change at any moment, since the scirocco was only accidental; and +at the first wave from seaward bump would go the poor ship, and there +would [might] be an end of our voyage. The captain, without waiting to +sound, began to make an effort to put the ship over what was supposed to +be a sandbank; but by the time soundings were made, this was found to be +impossible, and he had only been jamming the poor _Elba_ faster on a +rock. Now every effort was made to get her astern, an anchor taken out, +a rope brought to a winch I had for the cable, and the engines backed; +but all in vain. A small Turkish Government steamer, which is to be our +consort, came to our assistance, but of course very slowly, and much time +was occupied before we could get a hawser to her. I could do no good +after having made a chart of the soundings round the ship, and went at +last on to the bridge to sketch the scene. But at that moment the strain +from the winch and a jerk from the Turkish steamer got off the boat, +after we had been some hours aground. The carpenter reported that she +had made only two inches of water in one compartment; the cable was still +uninjured astern, and our spirits rose; when, will you believe it? after +going a short distance astern, the pilot ran us once more fast aground on +what seemed to me nearly the same spot. The very same scene was gone +through as on the first occasion, and dark came on whilst the wind +shifted, and we were still aground. Dinner was served up, but poor Mr. +Liddell could eat very little; and bump, bump, grind, grind, went the +ship fifteen or sixteen times as we sat at dinner. The slight sea, +however, did enable us to bump off. This morning we appear not to have +suffered in any way; but a sea is rolling in, which a few hours ago would +have settled the poor old _Elba_. + + ‘June —. + +‘The Alexandria cable has again failed; after paying out two-thirds of +the distance successfully, an unlucky touch in deep water snapped the +line. Luckily the accident occurred in Mr. Liddell’s watch. Though +personally it may not really concern me, the accident weighs like a +personal misfortune. Still I am glad I was present: a failure is +probably more instructive than a success; and this experience may enable +us to avoid misfortune in still greater undertakings. + + ‘June —. + +‘We left Syra the morning after our arrival on Saturday the 4th. This we +did (first) because we were in a hurry to do something and (second) +because, coming from Alexandria, we had four days’ quarantine to perform. +We were all mustered along the side while the doctor counted us; the +letters were popped into a little tin box and taken away to be smoked; +the guardians put on board to see that we held no communication with the +shore—without them we should still have had four more days’ quarantine; +and with twelve Greek sailors besides, we started merrily enough picking +up the Canea cable. . . . To our utter dismay, the yarn covering began to +come up quite decayed, and the cable, which when laid should have borne +half a ton, was now in danger of snapping with a tenth part of that +strain. We went as slow as possible in fear of a break at every instant. +My watch was from eight to twelve in the morning, and during that time we +had barely secured three miles of cable. Once it broke inside the ship, +but I seized hold of it in time—the weight being hardly anything—and the +line for the nonce was saved. Regular nooses were then planted inboard +with men to draw them taut, should the cable break inboard. A—, who +should have relieved me, was unwell, so I had to continue my look-out; +and about one o’clock the line again parted, but was again caught in the +last noose, with about four inches to spare. Five minutes afterwards it +again parted and was yet once more caught. Mr. Liddell (whom I had +called) could stand this no longer; so we buoyed the line and ran into a +bay in Siphano, waiting for calm weather, though I was by no means of +opinion that the slight sea and wind had been the cause of our +failures.—All next day (Monday) we lay off Siphano, amusing ourselves on +shore with fowling pieces and navy revolvers. I need not say we killed +nothing; and luckily we did not wound any of ourselves. A guardiano +accompanied us, his functions being limited to preventing actual contact +with the natives, for they might come as near and talk as much as they +pleased. These isles of Greece are sad, interesting places. They are +not really barren all over, but they are quite destitute of verdure; and +tufts of thyme, wild mastic or mint, though they sound well, are not +nearly so pretty as grass. Many little churches, glittering white, dot +the islands; most of them, I believe, abandoned during the whole year +with the exception of one day sacred to their patron saint. The villages +are mean, but the inhabitants do not look wretched and the men are good +sailors. There is something in this Greek race yet; they will become a +powerful Levantine nation in the course of time.—What a lovely moonlight +evening that was! the barren island cutting the clear sky with fantastic +outline, marble cliffs on either hand fairly gleaming over the calm sea. +Next day, the wind still continuing, I proposed a boating excursion and +decoyed A—, L—, and S— into accompanying me. We took the little gig, and +sailed away merrily enough round a point to a beautiful white bay, +flanked with two glistening little churches, fronted by beautiful distant +islands; when suddenly, to my horror, I discovered the _Elba_ steaming +full speed out from the island. Of course we steered after her; but the +wind that instant ceased, and we were left in a dead calm. There was +nothing for it but to unship the mast, get out the oars and pull. The +ship was nearly certain to stop at the buoy; and I wanted to learn how to +take an oar, so here was a chance with a vengeance! L— steered, and we +three pulled—a broiling pull it was about half way across to +Palikandro—still we did come in, pulling an uncommon good stroke, and I +had learned to hang on my oar. L— had pressed me to let him take my +place; but though I was very tired at the end of the first quarter of an +hour, and then every successive half hour, I would not give in. I nearly +paid dear for my obstinacy, however; for in the evening I had alternate +fits of shivering and burning.’ + + + +III. + + +The next extracts, and I am sorry to say the last, are from Fleeming’s +letters of 1860, when he was back at Bona and Spartivento and for the +first time at the head of an expedition. Unhappily these letters are not +only the last, but the series is quite imperfect; and this is the more to +be lamented as he had now begun to use a pen more skilfully, and in the +following notes there is at times a touch of real distinction in the +manner. + + ‘Cagliari: October 5, 1860. + +‘All Tuesday I spent examining what was on board the _Elba_, and trying +to start the repairs of the Spartivento land line, which has been +entirely neglected, and no wonder, for no one has been paid for three +months, no, not even the poor guards who have to keep themselves, their +horses and their families, on their pay. Wednesday morning, I started +for Spartivento and got there in time to try a good many experiments. +Spartivento looks more wild and savage than ever, but is not without a +strange deadly beauty: the hills covered with bushes of a metallic green +with coppery patches of soil in between; the valleys filled with dry salt +mud and a little stagnant water; where that very morning the deer had +drunk, where herons, curlews, and other fowl abound, and where, alas! +malaria is breeding with this rain. (No fear for those who do not sleep +on shore.) A little iron hut had been placed there since 1858; but the +windows had been carried off, the door broken down, the roof pierced all +over. In it, we sat to make experiments; and how it recalled Birkenhead! +There was Thomson, there was my testing board, the strings of +gutta-percha; Harry P— even, battering with the batteries; but where was +my darling Annie? Whilst I sat feet in sand, with Harry alone inside the +hut—mats, coats, and wood to darken the window—the others visited the +murderous old friar, who is of the order of Scaloppi, and for whom I +brought a letter from his superior, ordering him to pay us attention; but +he was away from home, gone to Cagliari in a boat with the produce of the +farm belonging to his convent. Then they visited the tower of Chia, but +could not get in because the door is thirty feet off the ground; so they +came back and pitched a magnificent tent which I brought from the +_Bahiana_ a long time ago—and where they will live (if I mistake not) in +preference to the friar’s, or the owl- and bat-haunted tower. MM. T— and +S— will be left there: T—, an intelligent, hard-working Frenchman, with +whom I am well pleased; he can speak English and Italian well, and has +been two years at Genoa. S— is a French German with a face like an +ancient Gaul, who has been sergeant-major in the French line and who is, +I see, a great, big, muscular _fainéant_. We left the tent pitched and +some stores in charge of a guide, and ran back to Cagliari. + +‘Certainly, being at the head of things is pleasanter than being +subordinate. We all agree very well; and I have made the testing office +into a kind of private room where I can come and write to you +undisturbed, surrounded by my dear, bright brass things which all of them +remind me of our nights at Birkenhead. Then I can work here, too, and +try lots of experiments; you know how I like that! and now and then I +read—Shakespeare principally. Thank you so much for making me bring him: +I think I must get a pocket edition of Hamlet and Henry the Fifth, so as +never to be without them. + + ‘Cagliari: October 7. + +‘[The town was full?] . . . of red-shirted English Garibaldini. A very +fine looking set of fellows they are, too: the officers rather raffish, +but with medals Crimean and Indian; the men a very sturdy set, with many +lads of good birth I should say. They still wait their consort the +Emperor and will, I fear, be too late to do anything. I meant to have +called on them, but they are all gone into barracks some way from the +town, and I have been much too busy to go far. + +‘The view from the ramparts was very strange and beautiful. Cagliari +rises on a very steep rock, at the mouth of a wide plain circled by large +hills and three-quarters filled with lagoons; it looks, therefore, like +an old island citadel. Large heaps of salt mark the border between the +sea and the lagoons; thousands of flamingoes whiten the centre of the +huge shallow marsh; hawks hover and scream among the trees under the high +mouldering battlements.—A little lower down, the band played. Men and +ladies bowed and pranced, the costumes posed, church bells tinkled, +processions processed, the sun set behind thick clouds capping the hills; +I pondered on you and enjoyed it all. + +‘Decidedly I prefer being master to being man: boats at all hours, +stewards flying for marmalade, captain enquiring when ship is to sail, +clerks to copy my writing, the boat to steer when we go out—I have run +her nose on several times; decidedly, I begin to feel quite a little +king. Confound the cable, though! I shall never be able to repair it. + + ‘Bona: October 14. + +‘We left Cagliari at 4.30 on the 9th and soon got to Spartivento. I +repeated some of my experiments, but found Thomson, who was to have been +my grand stand-by, would not work on that day in the wretched little hut. +Even if the windows and door had been put in, the wind which was very +high made the lamp flicker about and blew it out; so I sent on board and +got old sails, and fairly wrapped the hut up in them; and then we were as +snug as could be, and I left the hut in glorious condition with a nice +little stove in it. The tent which should have been forthcoming from the +curé’s for the guards, had gone to Cagliari; but I found another, [a] +green, Turkish tent, in the _Elba_ and soon had him up. The square tent +left on the last occasion was standing all right and tight in spite of +wind and rain. We landed provisions, two beds, plates, knives, forks, +candles, cooking utensils, and were ready for a start at 6 P.M.; but the +wind meanwhile had come on to blow at such a rate that I thought better +of it, and we stopped. T— and S— slept ashore, however, to see how they +liked it, at least they tried to sleep, for S— the ancient sergeant-major +had a toothache, and T— thought the tent was coming down every minute. +Next morning they could only complain of sand and a leaky coffee-pot, so +I leave them with a good conscience. The little encampment looked quite +picturesque: the green round tent, the square white tent and the hut all +wrapped up in sails, on a sand hill, looking on the sea and masking those +confounded marshes at the back. One would have thought the Cagliaritans +were in a conspiracy to frighten the two poor fellows, who (I believe) +will be safe enough if they do not go into the marshes after nightfall. +S— brought a little dog to amuse them, such a jolly, ugly little cur +without a tail, but full of fun; he will be better than quinine. + +‘The wind drove a barque, which had anchored near us for shelter, out to +sea. We started, however, at 2 P.M., and had a quick passage but a very +rough one, getting to Bona by daylight [on the 11th]. Such a place as +this is for getting anything done! The health boat went away from us at +7.30 with W— on board; and we heard nothing of them till 9.30, when W— +came back with two fat Frenchmen who are to look on on the part of the +Government. They are exactly alike: only one has four bands and the +other three round his cap, and so I know them. Then I sent a boat round +to Fort Gênois [Fort Genova of 1858], where the cable is landed, with all +sorts of things and directions, whilst I went ashore to see about coals +and a room at the fort. We hunted people in the little square in their +shops and offices, but only found them in cafés. One amiable gentleman +wasn’t up at 9.30, was out at 10, and as soon as he came back the servant +said he would go to bed and not get up till 3: he came, however, to find +us at a café, and said that, on the contrary, two days in the week he did +not do so! Then my two fat friends must have their breakfast after their +“something” at a café; and all the shops shut from 10 to 2; and the post +does not open till 12; and there was a road to Fort Gênois, only a bridge +had been carried away, &c. At last I got off, and we rowed round to Fort +Gênois, where my men had put up a capital gipsy tent with sails, and +there was my big board and Thomson’s number 5 in great glory. I soon +came to the conclusion there was a break. Two of my faithful +Cagliaritans slept all night in the little tent, to guard it and my +precious instruments; and the sea, which was rather rough, silenced my +Frenchmen. + +‘Next day I went on with my experiments, whilst a boat grappled for the +cable a little way from shore and buoyed it where the _Elba_ could get +hold. I brought all back to the _Elba_, tried my machinery and was all +ready for a start next morning. But the wretched coal had not come yet; +Government permission from Algiers to be got; lighters, men, baskets, and +I know not what forms to be got or got through—and everybody asleep! +Coals or no coals, I was determined to start next morning; and start we +did at four in the morning, picked up the buoy with our deck engine, +popped the cable across a boat, tested the wires to make sure the fault +was not behind us, and started picking up at 11. Everything worked +admirably, and about 2 P.M., in came the fault. There is no doubt the +cable was broken by coral fishers; twice they have had it up to their own +knowledge. + +‘Many men have been ashore to-day and have come back tipsy, and the whole +ship is in a state of quarrel from top to bottom, and they will gossip +just within my hearing. And we have had, moreover, three French +gentlemen and a French lady to dinner, and I had to act host and try to +manage the mixtures to their taste. The good-natured little Frenchwoman +was most amusing; when I asked her if she would have some apple +tart—“_Mon Dieu_,” with heroic resignation, “_je veux bien_”; or a little +_plombodding_—“_Mais ce que vous voudrez_, _Monsieur_!” + +‘S. S. _Elba_, somewhere not far from Bona: Oct. 19. + +‘Yesterday [after three previous days of useless grappling] was destined +to be very eventful. We began dredging at daybreak and hooked at once +every time in rocks; but by capital luck, just as we were deciding it was +no use to continue in that place, we hooked the cable: up it came, was +tested, and lo! another complete break, a quarter of a mile off. I was +amazed at my own tranquillity under these disappointments, but I was not +really half so fussy as about getting a cab. Well, there was nothing for +it but grappling again, and, as you may imagine, we were getting about +six miles from shore. But the water did not deepen rapidly; we seemed to +be on the crest of a kind of submarine mountain in prolongation of Cape +de Gonde, and pretty havoc we must have made with the crags. What rocks +we did hook! No sooner was the grapnel down than the ship was anchored; +and then came such a business: ship’s engines going, deck engine +thundering, belt slipping, fear of breaking ropes: actually breaking +grapnels. It was always an hour or more before we could get the grapnel +down again. At last we had to give up the place, though we knew we were +close to the cable, and go further to sea in much deeper water; to my +great fear, as I knew the cable was much eaten away and would stand but +little strain. Well, we hooked the cable first dredge this time, and +pulled it slowly and gently to the top, with much trepidation. Was it +the cable? was there any weight on? it was evidently too small. Imagine +my dismay when the cable did come up, but hanging loosely, thus + + [Picture: Sketch of cable coming up hanging loosely] + +instead of taut, thus + + [Picture: Sketch of cable coming up hanging taut] + +showing certain signs of a break close by. For a moment I felt provoked, +as I thought, “Here we are in deep water, and the cable will not stand +lifting!” I tested at once, and by the very first wire found it had +broken towards shore and was good towards sea. This was of course very +pleasant; but from that time to this, though the wires test very well, +not a signal has come from Spartivento. I got the cable into a boat, and +a gutta-percha line from the ship to the boat, and we signalled away at a +great rate—but no signs of life. The tests, however, make me pretty sure +one wire at least is good; so I determined to lay down cable from where +we were to the shore, and go to Spartivento to see what had happened +there. I fear my men are ill. The night was lovely, perfectly calm; so +we lay close to the boat and signals were continually sent, but with no +result. This morning I laid the cable down to Fort Gênois in style; and +now we are picking up odds and ends of cable between the different +breaks, and getting our buoys on board, &c. To-morrow I expect to leave +for Spartivento.’ + + + +IV. + + +And now I am quite at an end of journal keeping; diaries and diary +letters being things of youth which Fleeming had at length outgrown. But +one or two more fragments from his correspondence may be taken, and first +this brief sketch of the laying of the Norderney cable; mainly +interesting as showing under what defects of strength and in what +extremities of pain, this cheerful man must at times continue to go about +his work. + +‘I slept on board 29th September having arranged everything to start by +daybreak from where we lay in the roads: but at daybreak a heavy mist +hung over us so that nothing of land or water could be seen. At midday +it lifted suddenly and away we went with perfect weather, but could not +find the buoys Forde left, that evening. I saw the captain was not +strong in navigation, and took matters next day much more into my own +hands and before nine o’clock found the buoys; (the weather had been so +fine we had anchored in the open sea near Texel). It took us till the +evening to reach the buoys, get the cable on board, test the first half, +speak to Lowestoft, make the splice, and start. H— had not finished his +work at Norderney, so I was alone on board for Reuter. Moreover the +buoys to guide us in our course were not placed, and the captain had very +vague ideas about keeping his course; so I had to do a good deal, and +only lay down as I was for two hours in the night. I managed to run the +course perfectly. Everything went well, and we found Norderney just +where we wanted it next afternoon, and if the shore end had been laid, +could have finished there and then, October 1st. But when we got to +Norderney, we found the _Caroline_ with shore end lying apparently +aground, and could not understand her signals; so we had to anchor +suddenly and I went off in a small boat with the captain to the +_Caroline_. It was cold by this time, and my arm was rather stiff and I +was tired; I hauled myself up on board the _Caroline_ by a rope and found +H— and two men on board. All the rest were trying to get the shore end +on shore, but had failed and apparently had stuck on shore, and the waves +were getting up. We had anchored in the right place and next morning we +hoped the shore end would be laid, so we had only to go back. It was of +course still colder and quite night. I went to bed and hoped to sleep, +but, alas, the rheumatism got into the joints and caused me terrible pain +so that I could not sleep. I bore it as long as I could in order to +disturb no one, for all were tired; but at last I could bear it no longer +and managed to wake the steward and got a mustard poultice which took the +pain from the shoulder; but then the elbow got very bad, and I had to +call the second steward and get a second poultice, and then it was +daylight, and I felt very ill and feverish. The sea was now rather +rough—too rough rather for small boats, but luckily a sort of thing +called a scoot came out, and we got on board her with some trouble, and +got on shore after a good tossing about which made us all sea-sick. The +cable sent from the _Caroline_ was just 60 yards too short and did not +reach the shore, so although the _Caroline_ did make the splice late that +night, we could neither test nor speak. Reuter was at Norderney, and I +had to do the best I could, which was not much, and went to bed early; I +thought I should never sleep again, but in sheer desperation got up in +the middle of the night and gulped a lot of raw whiskey and slept at +last. But not long. A Mr. F— washed my face and hands and dressed me: +and we hauled the cable out of the sea, and got it joined to the +telegraph station, and on October 3rd telegraphed to Lowestoft first and +then to London. Miss Clara Volkman, a niece of Mr. Reuter’s, sent the +first message to Mrs. Reuter, who was waiting (Varley used Miss Clara’s +hand as a kind of key), and I sent one of the first messages to Odden. I +thought a message addressed to him would not frighten you, and that he +would enjoy a message through Papa’s cable. I hope he did. They were +all very merry, but I had been so lowered by pain that I could not enjoy +myself in spite of the success.’ + + + +V. + + +Of the 1869 cruise in the _Great Eastern_, I give what I am able; only +sorry it is no more, for the sake of the ship itself, already almost a +legend even to the generation that saw it launched. + +‘_June_ 17, 1869.—Here are the names of our staff in whom I expect you to +be interested, as future _Great Eastern_ stories may be full of them: +Theophilus Smith, a man of Latimer Clark’s; Leslie C. Hill, my prizeman +at University College; Lord Sackville Cecil; King, one of the Thomsonian +Kings; Laws, goes for Willoughby Smith, who will also be on board; +Varley, Clark, and Sir James Anderson make up the sum of all you know +anything of. A Captain Halpin commands the big ship. There are four +smaller vessels. The _Wm. Cory_, which laid the Norderney cable, has +already gone to St. Pierre to lay the shore ends. The _Hawk_ and +_Chiltern_ have gone to Brest to lay shore ends. The _Hawk_ and +_Scanderia_ go with us across the Atlantic and we shall at St. Pierre be +transhipped into one or the other. + +‘_June_ 18. _Somewhere in London_.—The shore end is laid, as you may +have seen, and we are all under pressing orders to march, so we start +from London to-night at 5.10. + +‘_June_ 20. _Off Ushant_.—I am getting quite fond of the big ship. +Yesterday morning in the quiet sunlight, she turned so slowly and lazily +in the great harbour at Portland, and bye and bye slipped out past the +long pier with so little stir, that I could hardly believe we were really +off. No men drunk, no women crying, no singing or swearing, no confusion +or bustle on deck—nobody apparently aware that they had anything to do. +The look of the thing was that the ship had been spoken to civilly and +had kindly undertaken to do everything that was necessary without any +further interference. I have a nice cabin with plenty of room for my +legs in my berth and have slept two nights like a top. Then we have the +ladies’ cabin set apart as an engineer’s office, and I think this +decidedly the nicest place in the ship: 35 ft. × 20 ft. broad—four +tables, three great mirrors, plenty of air and no heat from the funnels +which spoil the great dining-room. I saw a whole library of books on the +walls when here last, and this made me less anxious to provide light +literature; but alas, to-day I find that they are every one bibles or +prayer-books. Now one cannot read many hundred bibles. . . . As for the +motion of the ship it is not very much, but ‘twill suffice. Thomson +shook hands and wished me well. I _do_ like Thomson. . . . Tell Austin +that the _Great Eastern_ has six masts and four funnels. When I get back +I will make a little model of her for all the chicks and pay out cotton +reels. . . . Here we are at 4.20 at Brest. We leave probably to-morrow +morning. + +‘_July_ 12. _Great Eastern_.—Here as I write we run our last course for +the buoy at the St. Pierre shore end. It blows and lightens, and our +good ship rolls, and buoys are hard to find; but we must soon now finish +our work, and then this letter will start for home. . . . Yesterday we +were mournfully groping our way through the wet grey fog, not at all sure +where we were, with one consort lost and the other faintly answering the +roar of our great whistle through the mist. As to the ship which was to +meet us, and pioneer us up the deep channel, we did not know if we should +come within twenty miles of her; when suddenly up went the fog, out came +the sun, and there, straight ahead, was the _Wm. Cory_, our pioneer, and +a little dancing boat, the _Gulnare_, sending signals of welcome with +many-coloured flags. Since then we have been steaming in a grand +procession; but now at 2 A.M. the fog has fallen, and the great roaring +whistle calls up the distant answering notes all around us. Shall we, or +shall we not find the buoy? + +‘_July_ 13.—All yesterday we lay in the damp dripping fog, with whistles +all round and guns firing so that we might not bump up against one +another. This little delay has let us get our reports into tolerable +order. We are now at 7 o’clock getting the cable end again, with the +main cable buoy close to us.’ + +_A telegram of July_ 20: ‘I have received your four welcome letters. The +Americans are charming people.’ + + + +VI. + + +And here to make an end are a few random bits about the cruise to +Pernambuco:— + +‘_Plymouth_, _June_ 21, 1873.—I have been down to the sea-shore and smelt +the salt sea and like it; and I have seen the _Hooper_ pointing her great +bow sea-ward, while light smoke rises from her funnels telling that the +fires are being lighted; and sorry as I am to be without you, something +inside me answers to the call to be off and doing. + +‘_Lalla Rookh_. _Plymouth_, _June_ 22.—We have been a little cruise in +the yacht over to the Eddystone lighthouse, and my sea-legs seem very +well on. Strange how alike all these starts are—first on shore, steaming +hot days with a smell of bone-dust and tar and salt water; then the +little puffing, panting steam-launch that bustles out across a port with +green woody sides, little yachts sliding about, men-of-war +training-ships, and then a great big black hulk of a thing with a mass of +smaller vessels sticking to it like parasites; and that is one’s home +being coaled. Then comes the Champagne lunch where everyone says all +that is polite to everyone else, and then the uncertainty when to start. +So far as we know _now_, we are to start to-morrow morning at daybreak; +letters that come later are to be sent to Pernambuco by first mail. . . . +My father has sent me the heartiest sort of Jack Tar’s cheer. + +‘_S. S. Hooper_. _Off Funchal_, _June_ 29.—Here we are off Madeira at +seven o’clock in the morning. Thomson has been sounding with his special +toy ever since half-past three (1087 fathoms of water). I have been +watching the day break, and long jagged islands start into being out of +the dull night. We are still some miles from land; but the sea is calmer +than Loch Eil often was, and the big _Hooper_ rests very contentedly +after a pleasant voyage and favourable breezes. I have not been able to +do any real work except the testing [of the cable], for though not +sea-sick, I get a little giddy when I try to think on board. . . . The +ducks have just had their daily souse and are quacking and gabbling in a +mighty way outside the door of the captain’s deck cabin where I write. +The cocks are crowing, and new-laid eggs are said to be found in the +coops. Four mild oxen have been untethered and allowed to walk along the +broad iron decks—a whole drove of sheep seem quite content while licking +big lumps of bay salt. Two exceedingly impertinent goats lead the cook a +perfect life of misery. They steal round the galley and _will_ nibble +the carrots or turnips if his back is turned for one minute; and then he +throws something at them and misses them; and they scuttle off laughing +impudently, and flick one ear at him from a safe distance. This is the +most impudent gesture I ever saw. Winking is nothing to it. The ear +normally hangs down behind; the goat turns sideways to her enemy—by a +little knowing cock of the head flicks one ear over one eye, and squints +from behind it for half a minute—tosses her head back, skips a pace or +two further off, and repeats the manœuvre. The cook is very fat and +cannot run after that goat much. + +‘_Pernambuco_, _Aug._ 1.—We landed here yesterday, all well and cable +sound, after a good passage. . . . I am on familiar terms with +cocoa-nuts, mangoes, and bread-fruit trees, but I think I like the +negresses best of anything I have seen. In turbans and loose sea-green +robes, with beautiful black-brown complexions and a stately carriage, +they really are a satisfaction to my eye. The weather has been windy and +rainy; the _Hooper_ has to lie about a mile from the town, in an open +roadstead, with the whole swell of the Atlantic driving straight on +shore. The little steam launch gives all who go in her a good ducking, +as she bobs about on the big rollers; and my old gymnastic practice +stands me in good stead on boarding and leaving her. We clamber down a +rope ladder hanging from the high stern, and then taking a rope in one +hand, swing into the launch at the moment when she can contrive to steam +up under us—bobbing about like an apple thrown into a tub all the while. +The President of the province and his suite tried to come off to a State +luncheon on board on Sunday; but the launch being rather heavily laden, +behaved worse than usual, and some green seas stove in the President’s +hat and made him wetter than he had probably ever been in his life; so +after one or two rollers, he turned back; and indeed he was wise to do +so, for I don’t see how he could have got on board. . . . Being fully +convinced that the world will not continue to go round unless I pay it +personal attention, I must run away to my work.’ + + + + +CHAPTER VI.—1869–1885. + + +Edinburgh—Colleagues—_Farrago Vitæ_—I. The Family Circle—Fleeming and his +Sons—Highland Life—The Cruise of the Steam Launch—Summer in Styria—Rustic +Manners—II. The Drama—Private Theatricals—III. Sanitary Associations—The +Phonograph—IV. Fleeming’s Acquaintance with a Student—His late Maturity +of Mind—Religion and Morality—His Love of Heroism—Taste in Literature—V. +His Talk—His late Popularity—Letter from M. Trélat. + +THE remaining external incidents of Fleeming’s life, pleasures, honours, +fresh interests, new friends, are not such as will bear to be told at any +length or in the temporal order. And it is now time to lay narration by, +and to look at the man he was and the life he lived, more largely. + +Edinburgh, which was thenceforth to be his home, is a metropolitan small +town; where college professors and the lawyers of the Parliament House +give the tone, and persons of leisure, attracted by educational +advantages, make up much of the bulk of society. Not, therefore, an +unlettered place, yet not pedantic, Edinburgh will compare favourably +with much larger cities. A hard and disputatious element has been +commented on by strangers: it would not touch Fleeming, who was himself +regarded, even in this metropolis of disputation, as a thorny table-mate. +To golf unhappily he did not take, and golf is a cardinal virtue in the +city of the winds. Nor did he become an archer of the Queen’s +Body-Guard, which is the Chiltern Hundreds of the distasted golfer. He +did not even frequent the Evening Club, where his colleague Tait (in my +day) was so punctual and so genial. So that in some ways he stood +outside of the lighter and kindlier life of his new home. I should not +like to say that he was generally popular; but there as elsewhere, those +who knew him well enough to love him, loved him well. And he, upon his +side, liked a place where a dinner party was not of necessity +unintellectual, and where men stood up to him in argument. + +The presence of his old classmate, Tait, was one of his early attractions +to the chair; and now that Fleeming is gone again, Tait still remains, +ruling and really teaching his great classes. Sir Robert Christison was +an old friend of his mother’s; Sir Alexander Grant, Kelland, and Sellar, +were new acquaintances and highly valued; and these too, all but the +last, have been taken from their friends and labours. Death has been +busy in the Senatus. I will speak elsewhere of Fleeming’s demeanour to +his students; and it will be enough to add here that his relations with +his colleagues in general were pleasant to himself. + +Edinburgh, then, with its society, its university work, its delightful +scenery, and its skating in the winter, was thenceforth his base of +operations. But he shot meanwhile erratic in many directions: twice to +America, as we have seen, on telegraph voyages; continually to London on +business; often to Paris; year after year to the Highlands to shoot, to +fish, to learn reels and Gaelic, to make the acquaintance and fall in +love with the character of Highlanders; and once to Styria, to hunt +chamois and dance with peasant maidens. All the while, he was pursuing +the course of his electrical studies, making fresh inventions, taking up +the phonograph, filled with theories of graphic representation; reading, +writing, publishing, founding sanitary associations, interested in +technical education, investigating the laws of metre, drawing, acting, +directing private theatricals, going a long way to see an actor—a long +way to see a picture; in the very bubble of the tideway of contemporary +interests. And all the while he was busied about his father and mother, +his wife, and in particular his sons; anxiously watching, anxiously +guiding these, and plunging with his whole fund of youthfulness into +their sports and interests. And all the while he was himself +maturing—not in character or body, for these remained young—but in the +stocked mind, in the tolerant knowledge of life and man, in pious +acceptance of the universe. Here is a farrago for a chapter: here is a +world of interests and activities, human, artistic, social, scientific, +at each of which he sprang with impetuous pleasure, on each of which he +squandered energy, the arrow drawn to the head, the whole intensity of +his spirit bent, for the moment, on the momentary purpose. It was this +that lent such unusual interest to his society, so that no friend of his +can forget that figure of Fleeming coming charged with some new +discovery: it is this that makes his character so difficult to represent. +Our fathers, upon some difficult theme, would invoke the Muse; I can but +appeal to the imagination of the reader. When I dwell upon some one +thing, he must bear in mind it was only one of a score; that the +unweariable brain was teeming at the very time with other thoughts; that +the good heart had left no kind duty forgotten. + + + +I. + + +In Edinburgh, for a considerable time, Fleeming’s family, to three +generations, was united: Mr. and Mrs. Austin at Hailes, Captain and Mrs. +Jenkin in the suburb of Merchiston, Fleeming himself in the city. It is +not every family that could risk with safety such close interdomestic +dealings; but in this also Fleeming was particularly favoured. Even the +two extremes, Mr. Austin and the Captain, drew together. It is pleasant +to find that each of the old gentlemen set a high value on the good looks +of the other, doubtless also on his own; and a fine picture they made as +they walked the green terrace at Hailes, conversing by the hour. What +they talked of is still a mystery to those who knew them; but Mr. Austin +always declared that on these occasions he learned much. To both of +these families of elders, due service was paid of attention; to both, +Fleeming’s easy circumstances had brought joy; and the eyes of all were +on the grandchildren. In Fleeming’s scheme of duties, those of the +family stood first; a man was first of all a child, nor did he cease to +be so, but only took on added obligations, when he became in turn a +father. The care of his parents was always a first thought with him, and +their gratification his delight. And the care of his sons, as it was +always a grave subject of study with him, and an affair never neglected, +so it brought him a thousand satisfactions. ‘Hard work they are,’ as he +once wrote, ‘but what fit work!’ And again: ‘O, it’s a cold house where +a dog is the only representative of a child!’ Not that dogs were +despised; we shall drop across the name of Jack, the harum-scarum Irish +terrier ere we have done; his own dog Plato went up with him daily to his +lectures, and still (like other friends) feels the loss and looks visibly +for the reappearance of his master; and Martin, the cat, Fleeming has +himself immortalised, to the delight of Mr. Swinburne, in the columns of +the _Spectator_. Indeed there was nothing in which men take interest, in +which he took not some; and yet always most in the strong human bonds, +ancient as the race and woven of delights and duties. + +He was even an anxious father; perhaps that is the part where optimism is +hardest tested. He was eager for his sons; eager for their health, +whether of mind or body; eager for their education; in that, I should +have thought, too eager. But he kept a pleasant face upon all things, +believed in play, loved it himself, shared boyishly in theirs, and knew +how to put a face of entertainment upon business and a spirit of +education into entertainment. If he was to test the progress of the +three boys, this advertisement would appear in their little manuscript +paper:—‘Notice: The Professor of Engineering in the University of +Edinburgh intends at the close of the scholastic year to hold +examinations in the following subjects: (1) For boys in the fourth class +of the Academy—Geometry and Algebra; (2) For boys at Mr. Henderson’s +school—Dictation and Recitation; (3) For boys taught exclusively by +their mothers—Arithmetic and Reading.’ Prizes were given; but what prize +would be so conciliatory as this boyish little joke? It may read thin +here; it would smack racily in the playroom. Whenever his sons ‘started +a new fad’ (as one of them writes to me) they ‘had only to tell him about +it, and he was at once interested and keen to help.’ He would discourage +them in nothing unless it was hopelessly too hard for them; only, if +there was any principle of science involved, they must understand the +principle; and whatever was attempted, that was to be done thoroughly. +If it was but play, if it was but a puppetshow they were to build, he set +them the example of being no sluggard in play. When Frewen, the second +son, embarked on the ambitious design to make an engine for a toy +steamboat, Fleeming made him begin with a proper drawing—doubtless to the +disgust of the young engineer; but once that foundation laid, helped in +the work with unflagging gusto, ‘tinkering away,’ for hours, and assisted +at the final trial ‘in the big bath’ with no less excitement than the +boy. ‘He would take any amount of trouble to help us,’ writes my +correspondent. ‘We never felt an affair was complete till we had called +him to see, and he would come at any time, in the middle of any work.’ +There was indeed one recognised playhour, immediately after the despatch +of the day’s letters; and the boys were to be seen waiting on the stairs +until the mail should be ready and the fun could begin. But at no other +time did this busy man suffer his work to interfere with that first duty +to his children; and there is a pleasant tale of the inventive Master +Frewen, engaged at the time upon a toy crane, bringing to the study where +his father sat at work a half-wound reel that formed some part of his +design, and observing, ‘Papa, you might finiss windin’ this for me; I am +so very busy to-day.’ + +I put together here a few brief extracts from Fleeming’s letters, none +very important in itself, but all together building up a pleasant picture +of the father with his sons. + +‘_Jan._ 15_th_, 1875.—Frewen contemplates suspending soap bubbles by silk +threads for experimental purposes. I don’t think he will manage that. +Bernard’ [the youngest] ‘volunteered to blow the bubbles with +enthusiasm.’ + +‘_Jan._ 17_th_.—I am learning a great deal of electrostatics in +consequence of the perpetual cross-examination to which I am subjected. +I long for you on many grounds, but one is that I may not be obliged to +deliver a running lecture on abstract points of science, subject to +cross-examination by two acute students. Bernie does not cross-examine +much; but if anyone gets discomfited, he laughs a sort of little +silver-whistle giggle, which is trying to the unhappy blunderer.’ + +‘_May_ 9_th_.—Frewen is deep in parachutes. I beg him not to drop from +the top landing in one of his own making.’ + +‘_June_ 6_th_, 1876.—Frewen’s crank axle is a failure just at present—but +he bears up.’ + +‘_June_ 14_th_.—The boys enjoy their riding. It gets them whole funds of +adventures. One of their caps falling off is matter for delightful +reminiscences; and when a horse breaks his step, the occurrence becomes a +rear, a shy, or a plunge as they talk it over. Austin, with quiet +confidence, speaks of the greater pleasure in riding a spirited horse, +even if he does give a little trouble. It is the stolid brute that he +dislikes. (N.B. You can still see six inches between him and the saddle +when his pony trots.) I listen and sympathise and throw out no hint that +their achievements are not really great.’ + +‘_June_ 18_th_.—Bernard is much impressed by the fact that I can be +useful to Frewen about the steamboat’ [which the latter irrepressible +inventor was making]. ‘He says quite with awe, “He would not have got on +nearly so well if you had not helped him.”’ + +‘_June_ 27_th_.—I do not see what I could do without Austin. He talks so +pleasantly and is so truly good all through.’ + +‘_June_ 27_th_.—My chief difficulty with Austin is to get him measured +for a pair of trousers. Hitherto I have failed, but I keep a stout heart +and mean to succeed. Frewen the observer, in describing the paces of two +horses, says, “Polly takes twenty-seven steps to get round the school. I +couldn’t count Sophy, but she takes more than a hundred.”’ + +‘_Feb._ 18_th_, 1877.—We all feel very lonely without you. Frewen had to +come up and sit in my room for company last night and I actually kissed +him, a thing that has not occurred for years. Jack, poor fellow, bears +it as well as he can, and has taken the opportunity of having a fester on +his foot, so he is lame and has it bathed, and this occupies his thoughts +a good deal.’ + +‘_Feb._ 19_th_.—As to Mill, Austin has not got the list yet. I think it +will prejudice him very much against Mill—but that is not my affair. +Education of that kind! . . . I would as soon cram my boys with food and +boast of the pounds they had eaten, as cram them with literature.’ + +But if Fleeming was an anxious father, he did not suffer his anxiety to +prevent the boys from any manly or even dangerous pursuit. Whatever it +might occur to them to try, he would carefully show them how to do it, +explain the risks, and then either share the danger himself or, if that +were not possible, stand aside and wait the event with that unhappy +courage of the looker-on. He was a good swimmer, and taught them to +swim. He thoroughly loved all manly exercises; and during their +holidays, and principally in the Highlands, helped and encouraged them to +excel in as many as possible: to shoot, to fish, to walk, to pull an oar, +to hand, reef and steer, and to run a steam launch. In all of these, and +in all parts of Highland life, he shared delightedly. He was well on to +forty when he took once more to shooting, he was forty-three when he +killed his first salmon, but no boy could have more single-mindedly +rejoiced in these pursuits. His growing love for the Highland character, +perhaps also a sense of the difficulty of the task, led him to take up at +forty-one the study of Gaelic; in which he made some shadow of progress, +but not much: the fastnesses of that elusive speech retaining to the last +their independence. At the house of his friend Mrs. Blackburn, who plays +the part of a Highland lady as to the manner born, he learned the +delightful custom of kitchen dances, which became the rule at his own +house and brought him into yet nearer contact with his neighbours. And +thus at forty-two, he began to learn the reel; a study, to which he +brought his usual smiling earnestness; and the steps, diagrammatically +represented by his own hand, are before me as I write. + +It was in 1879 that a new feature was added to the Highland life: a steam +launch, called the _Purgle_, the Styrian corruption of Walpurga, after a +friend to be hereafter mentioned. ‘The steam launch goes,’ Fleeming +wrote. ‘I wish you had been present to describe two scenes of which she +has been the occasion already: one during which the population of +Ullapool, to a baby, was harnessed to her hurrahing—and the other in +which the same population sat with its legs over a little pier, watching +Frewen and Bernie getting up steam for the first time.’ The _Purgle_ was +got with educational intent; and it served its purpose so well, and the +boys knew their business so practically, that when the summer was at an +end, Fleeming, Mrs. Jenkin, Frewen the engineer, Bernard the stoker, and +Kenneth Robertson a Highland seaman, set forth in her to make the passage +south. The first morning they got from Loch Broom into Gruinard bay, +where they lunched upon an island; but the wind blowing up in the +afternoon, with sheets of rain, it was found impossible to beat to sea; +and very much in the situation of castaways upon an unknown coast, the +party landed at the mouth of Gruinard river. A shooting lodge was spied +among the trees; there Fleeming went; and though the master, Mr. Murray, +was from home, though the two Jenkin boys were of course as black as +colliers, and all the castaways so wetted through that, as they stood in +the passage, pools formed about their feet and ran before them into the +house, yet Mrs. Murray kindly entertained them for the night. On the +morrow, however, visitors were to arrive; there would be no room and, in +so out-of-the-way a spot, most probably no food for the crew of the +_Purgle_; and on the morrow about noon, with the bay white with spindrift +and the wind so strong that one could scarcely stand against it, they got +up steam and skulked under the land as far as Sanda Bay. Here they crept +into a seaside cave, and cooked some food; but the weather now freshening +to a gale, it was plain they must moor the launch where she was, and find +their way overland to some place of shelter. Even to get their baggage +from on board was no light business; for the dingy was blown so far to +leeward every trip, that they must carry her back by hand along the +beach. But this once managed, and a cart procured in the neighbourhood, +they were able to spend the night in a pot-house on Ault Bea. Next day, +the sea was unapproachable; but the next they had a pleasant passage to +Poolewe, hugging the cliffs, the falling swell bursting close by them in +the gullies, and the black scarts that sat like ornaments on the top of +every stack and pinnacle, looking down into the _Purgle_ as she passed. +The climate of Scotland had not done with them yet: for three days they +lay storm-stayed in Poolewe, and when they put to sea on the morning of +the fourth, the sailors prayed them for God’s sake not to attempt the +passage. Their setting out was indeed merely tentative; but presently +they had gone too far to return, and found themselves committed to double +Rhu Reay with a foul wind and a cross sea. From half-past eleven in the +morning until half-past five at night, they were in immediate and +unceasing danger. Upon the least mishap, the _Purgle_ must either have +been swamped by the seas or bulged upon the cliffs of that rude headland. +Fleeming and Robertson took turns baling and steering; Mrs. Jenkin, so +violent was the commotion of the boat, held on with both hands; Frewen, +by Robertson’s direction, ran the engine, slacking and pressing her to +meet the seas; and Bernard, only twelve years old, deadly sea-sick, and +continually thrown against the boiler, so that he was found next day to +be covered with burns, yet kept an even fire. It was a very thankful +party that sat down that evening to meat in the Hotel at Gairloch. And +perhaps, although the thing was new in the family, no one was much +surprised when Fleeming said grace over that meal. Thenceforward he +continued to observe the form, so that there was kept alive in his house +a grateful memory of peril and deliverance. But there was nothing of the +muff in Fleeming; he thought it a good thing to escape death, but a +becoming and a healthful thing to run the risk of it; and what is rarer, +that which he thought for himself, he thought for his family also. In +spite of the terrors of Rhu Reay, the cruise was persevered in and +brought to an end under happier conditions. + +One year, instead of the Highlands, Alt Aussee, in the Steiermark, was +chosen for the holidays; and the place, the people, and the life +delighted Fleeming. He worked hard at German, which he had much +forgotten since he was a boy; and what is highly characteristic, equally +hard at the patois, in which he learned to excel. He won a prize at a +Schützen-fest; and though he hunted chamois without much success, brought +down more interesting game in the shape of the Styrian peasants, and in +particular of his gillie, Joseph. This Joseph was much of a character; +and his appreciations of Fleeming have a fine note of their own. The +bringing up of the boys he deigned to approve of: ‘_fast so gut wie ein +bauer_,’ was his trenchant criticism. The attention and courtly respect +with which Fleeming surrounded his wife, was something of a puzzle to the +philosophic gillie; he announced in the village that Mrs. Jenkin—_die +silberne Frau_, as the folk had prettily named her from some silver +ornaments—was a ‘_geborene Gräfin_’ who had married beneath her; and when +Fleeming explained what he called the English theory (though indeed it +was quite his own) of married relations, Joseph, admiring but +unconvinced, avowed it was ‘_gar schön_.’ Joseph’s cousin, Walpurga +Moser, to an orchestra of clarionet and zither, taught the family the +country dances, the Steierisch and the Ländler, and gained their hearts +during the lessons. Her sister Loys, too, who was up at the Alp with the +cattle, came down to church on Sundays, made acquaintance with the +Jenkins, and must have them up to see the sunrise from her house upon the +Loser, where they had supper and all slept in the loft among the hay. +The Mosers were not lost sight of; Walpurga still corresponds with Mrs. +Jenkin, and it was a late pleasure of Fleeming’s to choose and despatch a +wedding present for his little mountain friend. This visit was brought +to an end by a ball in the big inn parlour; the refreshments chosen, the +list of guests drawn up, by Joseph; the best music of the place in +attendance; and hosts and guests in their best clothes. The ball was +opened by Mrs. Jenkin dancing Steierisch with a lordly Bauer, in gray and +silver and with a plumed hat; and Fleeming followed with Walpurga Moser. + +There ran a principle through all these holiday pleasures. In Styria as +in the Highlands, the same course was followed: Fleeming threw himself as +fully as he could into the life and occupations of the native people, +studying everywhere their dances and their language, and conforming, +always with pleasure, to their rustic etiquette. Just as the ball at Alt +Aussee was designed for the taste of Joseph, the parting feast at +Attadale was ordered in every particular to the taste of Murdoch the +Keeper. Fleeming was not one of the common, so-called gentlemen, who +take the tricks of their own coterie to be eternal principles of taste. +He was aware, on the other hand, that rustic people dwelling in their own +places, follow ancient rules with fastidious precision, and are easily +shocked and embarrassed by what (if they used the word) they would have +to call the vulgarity of visitors from town. And he, who was so cavalier +with men of his own class, was sedulous to shield the more tender +feelings of the peasant; he, who could be so trying in a drawing-room, +was even punctilious in the cottage. It was in all respects a happy +virtue. It renewed his life, during these holidays, in all particulars. +It often entertained him with the discovery of strange survivals; as +when, by the orders of Murdoch, Mrs. Jenkin must publicly taste of every +dish before it was set before her guests. And thus to throw himself into +a fresh life and a new school of manners was a grateful exercise of +Fleeming’s mimetic instinct; and to the pleasures of the open air, of +hardships supported, of dexterities improved and displayed, and of plain +and elegant society, added a spice of drama. + + + +II. + + +Fleeming was all his life a lover of the play and all that belonged to +it. Dramatic literature he knew fully. He was one of the not very +numerous people who can read a play: a knack, the fruit of much knowledge +and some imagination, comparable to that of reading score. Few men +better understood the artificial principles on which a play is good or +bad; few more unaffectedly enjoyed a piece of any merit of construction. +His own play was conceived with a double design; for he had long been +filled with his theory of the true story of Griselda; used to gird at +Father Chaucer for his misconception; and was, perhaps first of all, +moved by the desire to do justice to the Marquis of Saluces, and perhaps +only in the second place, by the wish to treat a story (as he phrased it) +like a sum in arithmetic. I do not think he quite succeeded; but I must +own myself no fit judge. Fleeming and I were teacher and taught as to +the principles, disputatious rivals in the practice, of dramatic writing. + +Acting had always, ever since Rachel and the Marseillaise, a particular +power on him. ‘If I do not cry at the play,’ he used to say, ‘I want to +have my money back.’ Even from a poor play with poor actors, he could +draw pleasure. ‘Giacometti’s _Elisabetta_,’ I find him writing, ‘fetched +the house vastly. Poor Queen Elizabeth! And yet it was a little good.’ +And again, after a night of Salvini: ‘I do not suppose any one with +feelings could sit out _Othello_, if Iago and Desdemona were acted.’ +Salvini was, in his view, the greatest actor he had seen. We were all +indeed moved and bettered by the visit of that wonderful man.—‘I declare +I feel as if I could pray!’ cried one of us, on the return from +_Hamlet_.—‘That is prayer,’ said Fleeming. W. B. Hole and I, in a fine +enthusiasm of gratitude, determined to draw up an address to Salvini, did +so, and carried it to Fleeming; and I shall never forget with what +coldness he heard and deleted the eloquence of our draft, nor with what +spirit (our vanities once properly mortified) he threw himself into the +business of collecting signatures. It was his part, on the ground of his +Italian, to see and arrange with the actor; it was mine to write in the +_Academy_ a notice of the first performance of _Macbeth_. Fleeming +opened the paper, read so far, and flung it on the floor. ‘No,’ he +cried, ‘that won’t do. You were thinking of yourself, not of Salvini!’ +The criticism was shrewd as usual, but it was unfair through ignorance; +it was not of myself that I was thinking, but of the difficulties of my +trade which I had not well mastered. Another unalloyed dramatic pleasure +which Fleeming and I shared the year of the Paris Exposition, was the +_Marquis de Villemer_, that blameless play, performed by Madeleine +Brohan, Delaunay, Worms, and Broisat—an actress, in such parts at least, +to whom I have never seen full justice rendered. He had his fill of +weeping on that occasion; and when the piece was at an end, in front of a +café, in the mild, midnight air, we had our fill of talk about the art of +acting. + +But what gave the stage so strong a hold on Fleeming was an inheritance +from Norwich, from Edward Barron, and from Enfield of the _Speaker_. The +theatre was one of Edward Barron’s elegant hobbies; he read plays, as +became Enfield’s son-in-law, with a good discretion; he wrote plays for +his family, in which Eliza Barron used to shine in the chief parts; and +later in life, after the Norwich home was broken up, his little +granddaughter would sit behind him in a great armchair, and be +introduced, with his stately elocution, to the world of dramatic +literature. From this, in a direct line, we can deduce the charades at +Claygate; and after money came, in the Edinburgh days, that private +theatre which took up so much of Fleeming’s energy and thought. The +company—Mr. and Mrs. R. O. Carter of Colwall, W. B. Hole, Captain Charles +Douglas, Mr. Kunz, Mr. Burnett, Professor Lewis Campbell, Mr. Charles +Baxter, and many more—made a charming society for themselves and gave +pleasure to their audience. Mr. Carter in Sir Toby Belch it would be +hard to beat. Mr. Hole in broad farce, or as the herald in the +_Trachiniæ_, showed true stage talent. As for Mrs. Jenkin, it was for +her the rest of us existed and were forgiven; her powers were an endless +spring of pride and pleasure to her husband; he spent hours hearing and +schooling her in private; and when it came to the performance, though +there was perhaps no one in the audience more critical, none was more +moved than Fleeming. The rest of us did not aspire so high. There were +always five performances and weeks of busy rehearsal; and whether we came +to sit and stifle as the prompter, to be the dumb (or rather the +inarticulate) recipients of Carter’s dog whip in the _Taming of the +Shrew_, or having earned our spurs, to lose one more illusion in a +leading part, we were always sure at least of a long and an exciting +holiday in mirthful company. + +In this laborious annual diversion, Fleeming’s part was large. I never +thought him an actor, but he was something of a mimic, which stood him in +stead. Thus he had seen Got in Poirier; and his own Poirier, when he +came to play it, breathed meritoriously of the model. The last part I +saw him play was Triplet, and at first I thought it promised well. But +alas! the boys went for a holiday, missed a train, and were not heard of +at home till late at night. Poor Fleeming, the man who never hesitated +to give his sons a chisel or a gun, or to send them abroad in a canoe or +on a horse, toiled all day at his rehearsal, growing hourly paler, +Triplet growing hourly less meritorious. And though the return of the +children, none the worse for their little adventure, brought the colour +back into his face, it could not restore him to his part. I remember +finding him seated on the stairs in some rare moment of quiet during the +subsequent performances. ‘Hullo, Jenkin,’ said I, ‘you look down in the +mouth.’—‘My dear boy,’ said he, ‘haven’t you heard me? I have not one +decent intonation from beginning to end.’ + +But indeed he never supposed himself an actor; took a part, when he took +any, merely for convenience, as one takes a hand at whist; and found his +true service and pleasure in the more congenial business of the manager. +Augier, Racine, Shakespeare, Aristophanes in Hookham Frere’s translation, +Sophocles and Æschylus in Lewis Campbell’s, such were some of the authors +whom he introduced to his public. In putting these upon the stage, he +found a thousand exercises for his ingenuity and taste, a thousand +problems arising which he delighted to study, a thousand opportunities to +make these infinitesimal improvements which are so much in art and for +the artist. Our first Greek play had been costumed by the professional +costumer, with unforgetable results of comicality and indecorum: the +second, the _Trachiniæ_, of Sophocles, he took in hand himself, and a +delightful task he made of it. His study was then in antiquarian books, +where he found confusion, and on statues and bas-reliefs, where he at +last found clearness; after an hour or so at the British Museum, he was +able to master ‘the chitôn, sleeves and all’; and before the time was +ripe, he had a theory of Greek tailoring at his fingers’ ends, and had +all the costumes made under his eye as a Greek tailor would have made +them. ‘The Greeks made the best plays and the best statues, and were the +best architects: of course, they were the best tailors, too,’ said he; +and was never weary, when he could find a tolerant listener, of dwelling +on the simplicity, the economy, the elegance both of means and effect, +which made their system so delightful. + +But there is another side to the stage-manager’s employment. The +discipline of acting is detestable; the failures and triumphs of that +business appeal too directly to the vanity; and even in the course of a +careful amateur performance such as ours, much of the smaller side of man +will be displayed. Fleeming, among conflicting vanities and levities, +played his part to my admiration. He had his own view; he might be +wrong; but the performances (he would remind us) were after all his, and +he must decide. He was, in this as in all other things, an iron +taskmaster, sparing not himself nor others. If you were going to do it +at all, he would see that it was done as well as you were able. I have +known him to keep two culprits (and one of these his wife) repeating the +same action and the same two or three words for a whole weary afternoon. +And yet he gained and retained warm feelings from far the most of those +who fell under his domination, and particularly (it is pleasant to +remember) from the girls. After the slipshod training and the incomplete +accomplishments of a girls’ school, there was something at first +annoying, at last exciting and bracing, in this high standard of +accomplishment and perseverance. + + + +III. + + +It did not matter why he entered upon any study or employment, whether +for amusement like the Greek tailoring or the Highland reels, whether +from a desire to serve the public as with his sanitary work, or in the +view of benefiting poorer men as with his labours for technical +education, he ‘pitched into it’ (as he would have said himself) with the +same headlong zest. I give in the Appendix a letter from Colonel +Fergusson, which tells fully the nature of the sanitary work and of +Fleeming’s part and success in it. It will be enough to say here that it +was a scheme of protection against the blundering of builders and the +dishonesty of plumbers. Started with an eye rather to the houses of the +rich, Fleeming hoped his Sanitary Associations would soon extend their +sphere of usefulness and improve the dwellings of the poor. In this hope +he was disappointed; but in all other ways the scheme exceedingly +prospered, associations sprang up and continue to spring up in many +quarters, and wherever tried they have been found of use. + +Here, then, was a serious employment; it has proved highly useful to +mankind; and it was begun besides, in a mood of bitterness, under the +shock of what Fleeming would so sensitively feel—the death of a whole +family of children. Yet it was gone upon like a holiday jaunt. I read +in Colonel Fergusson’s letter that his schoolmates bantered him when he +began to broach his scheme; so did I at first, and he took the banter as +he always did with enjoyment, until he suddenly posed me with the +question: ‘And now do you see any other jokes to make? Well, then,’ said +he, ‘that’s all right. I wanted you to have your fun out first; now we +can be serious.’ And then with a glowing heat of pleasure, he laid his +plans before me, revelling in the details, revelling in hope. It was as +he wrote about the joy of electrical experiment. ‘What shall I compare +them to? A new song?—a Greek play?’ Delight attended the exercise of +all his powers; delight painted the future. Of these ideal visions, some +(as I have said) failed of their fruition. And the illusion was +characteristic. Fleeming believed we had only to make a virtue cheap and +easy, and then all would practise it; that for an end unquestionably +good, men would not grudge a little trouble and a little money, though +they might stumble at laborious pains and generous sacrifices. He could +not believe in any resolute badness. ‘I cannot quite say,’ he wrote in +his young manhood, ‘that I think there is no sin or misery. This I can +say: I do not remember one single malicious act done to myself. In fact +it is rather awkward when I have to say the Lord’s Prayer. I have +nobody’s trespasses to forgive.’ And to the point, I remember one of our +discussions. I said it was a dangerous error not to admit there were bad +people; he, that it was only a confession of blindness on our part, and +that we probably called others bad only so far as we were wrapped in +ourselves and lacking in the transmigratory forces of imagination. I +undertook to describe to him three persons irredeemably bad and whom he +should admit to be so. In the first case, he denied my evidence: ‘You +cannot judge a man upon such testimony,’ said he. For the second, he +owned it made him sick to hear the tale; but then there was no spark of +malice, it was mere weakness I had described, and he had never denied nor +thought to set a limit to man’s weakness. At my third gentleman, he +struck his colours. ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘I’m afraid that is a bad man.’ And +then looking at me shrewdly: ‘I wonder if it isn’t a very unfortunate +thing for you to have met him.’ I showed him radiantly how it was the +world we must know, the world as it was, not a world expurgated and +prettified with optimistic rainbows. ‘Yes, yes,’ said he; ‘but this +badness is such an easy, lazy explanation. Won’t you be tempted to use +it, instead of trying to understand people?’ + +In the year 1878, he took a passionate fancy for the phonograph: it was a +toy after his heart, a toy that touched the skirts of life, art, and +science, a toy prolific of problems and theories. Something fell to be +done for a University Cricket Ground Bazaar. ‘And the thought struck +him,’ Mr. Ewing writes to me, ‘to exhibit Edison’s phonograph, then the +very newest scientific marvel. The instrument itself was not to be +purchased—I think no specimen had then crossed the Atlantic—but a copy of +the _Times_ with an account of it was at hand, and by the help of this we +made a phonograph which to our great joy talked, and talked, too, with +the purest American accent. It was so good that a second instrument was +got ready forthwith. Both were shown at the Bazaar: one by Mrs. Jenkin +to people willing to pay half a crown for a private view and the +privilege of hearing their own voices, while Jenkin, perfervid as usual, +gave half-hourly lectures on the other in an adjoining room—I, as his +lieutenant, taking turns. The thing was in its way a little triumph. A +few of the visitors were deaf, and hugged the belief that they were the +victims of a new kind of fancy-fair swindle. Of the others, many who +came to scoff remained to take raffle tickets; and one of the phonographs +was finally disposed of in this way, falling, by a happy freak of the +ballot-box, into the hands of Sir William Thomson.’ The other remained +in Fleeming’s hands, and was a source of infinite occupation. Once it +was sent to London, ‘to bring back on the tinfoil the tones of a lady +distinguished for clear vocalisations; at another time Sir Robert +Christison was brought in to contribute his powerful bass’; and there +scarcely came a visitor about the house, but he was made the subject of +experiment. The visitors, I am afraid, took their parts lightly: Mr. +Hole and I, with unscientific laughter, commemorating various shades of +Scotch accent, or proposing to ‘teach the poor dumb animal to swear.’ +But Fleeming and Mr. Ewing, when we butterflies were gone, were +laboriously ardent. Many thoughts that occupied the later years of my +friend were caught from the small utterance of that toy. Thence came his +inquiries into the roots of articulate language and the foundations of +literary art; his papers on vowel sounds, his papers in the _Saturday +Review_ upon the laws of verse, and many a strange approximation, many a +just note, thrown out in talk and now forgotten. I pass over dozens of +his interests, and dwell on this trifling matter of the phonograph, +because it seems to me that it depicts the man. So, for Fleeming, one +thing joined into another, the greater with the less. He cared not where +it was he scratched the surface of the ultimate mystery—in the child’s +toy, in the great tragedy, in the laws of the tempest, or in the +properties of energy or mass—certain that whatever he touched, it was a +part of life—and however he touched it, there would flow for his happy +constitution interest and delight. ‘All fables have their morals,’ says +Thoreau, ‘but the innocent enjoy the story.’ There is a truth +represented for the imagination in these lines of a noble poem, where we +are told, that in our highest hours of visionary clearness, we can but + + ‘see the children sport upon the shore + And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.’ + +To this clearness Fleeming had attained; and although he heard the voice +of the eternal seas and weighed its message, he was yet able, until the +end of his life, to sport upon these shores of death and mystery with the +gaiety and innocence of children. + + + +IV. + + +It was as a student that I first knew Fleeming, as one of that modest +number of young men who sat under his ministrations in a soul-chilling +class-room at the top of the University buildings. His presence was +against him as a professor: no one, least of all students, would have +been moved to respect him at first sight: rather short in stature, +markedly plain, boyishly young in manner, cocking his head like a terrier +with every mark of the most engaging vivacity and readiness to be +pleased, full of words, full of paradox, a stranger could scarcely fail +to look at him twice, a man thrown with him in a train could scarcely +fail to be engaged by him in talk, but a student would never regard him +as academical. Yet he had that fibre in him that order always existed in +his class-room. I do not remember that he ever addressed me in language; +at the least sign of unrest, his eye would fall on me and I was quelled. +Such a feat is comparatively easy in a small class; but I have misbehaved +in smaller classes and under eyes more Olympian than Fleeming Jenkin’s. +He was simply a man from whose reproof one shrank; in manner the least +buckrammed of mankind, he had, in serious moments, an extreme dignity of +goodness. So it was that he obtained a power over the most insubordinate +of students, but a power of which I was myself unconscious. I was +inclined to regard any professor as a joke, and Fleeming as a +particularly good joke, perhaps the broadest in the vast pleasantry of my +curriculum. I was not able to follow his lectures; I somehow dared not +misconduct myself, as was my customary solace; and I refrained from +attending. This brought me at the end of the session into a relation +with my contemned professor that completely opened my eyes. During the +year, bad student as I was, he had shown a certain leaning to my society; +I had been to his house, he had asked me to take a humble part in his +theatricals; I was a master in the art of extracting a certificate even +at the cannon’s mouth; and I was under no apprehension. But when I +approached Fleeming, I found myself in another world; he would have +naught of me. ‘It is quite useless for _you_ to come to me, Mr. +Stevenson. There may be doubtful cases, there is no doubt about yours. +You have simply _not_ attended my class.’ The document was necessary to +me for family considerations; and presently I stooped to such pleadings +and rose to such adjurations, as made my ears burn to remember. He was +quite unmoved; he had no pity for me.—‘You are no fool,’ said he, ‘and +you chose your course.’ I showed him that he had misconceived his duty, +that certificates were things of form, attendance a matter of taste. Two +things, he replied, had been required for graduation, a certain +competency proved in the final trials and a certain period of genuine +training proved by certificate; if he did as I desired, not less than if +he gave me hints for an examination, he was aiding me to steal a degree. +‘You see, Mr. Stevenson, these are the laws and I am here to apply them,’ +said he. I could not say but that this view was tenable, though it was +new to me; I changed my attack: it was only for my father’s eye that I +required his signature, it need never go to the Senatus, I had already +certificates enough to justify my year’s attendance. ‘Bring them to me; +I cannot take your word for that,’ said he. ‘Then I will consider.’ The +next day I came charged with my certificates, a humble assortment. And +when he had satisfied himself, ‘Remember,’ said he, ‘that I can promise +nothing, but I will try to find a form of words.’ He did find one, and I +am still ashamed when I think of his shame in giving me that paper. He +made no reproach in speech, but his manner was the more eloquent; it told +me plainly what a dirty business we were on; and I went from his +presence, with my certificate indeed in my possession, but with no +answerable sense of triumph. That was the bitter beginning of my love +for Fleeming; I never thought lightly of him afterwards. + +Once, and once only, after our friendship was truly founded, did we come +to a considerable difference. It was, by the rules of poor humanity, my +fault and his. I had been led to dabble in society journalism; and this +coming to his ears, he felt it like a disgrace upon himself. So far he +was exactly in the right; but he was scarce happily inspired when he +broached the subject at his own table and before guests who were +strangers to me. It was the sort of error he was always ready to repent, +but always certain to repeat; and on this occasion he spoke so freely +that I soon made an excuse and left the house with the firm purpose of +returning no more. About a month later, I met him at dinner at a common +friend’s. ‘Now,’ said he, on the stairs, ‘I engage you—like a lady to +dance—for the end of the evening. You have no right to quarrel with me +and not give me a chance.’ I have often said and thought that Fleeming +had no tact; he belied the opinion then. I remember perfectly how, so +soon as we could get together, he began his attack: ‘You may have grounds +of quarrel with me; you have none against Mrs. Jenkin; and before I say +another word, I want you to promise you will come to _her_ house as +usual.’ An interview thus begun could have but one ending: if the +quarrel were the fault of both, the merit of the reconciliation was +entirely Fleeming’s. + +When our intimacy first began, coldly enough, accidentally enough on his +part, he had still something of the Puritan, something of the inhuman +narrowness of the good youth. It fell from him slowly, year by year, as +he continued to ripen, and grow milder, and understand more generously +the mingled characters of men. In the early days he once read me a +bitter lecture; and I remember leaving his house in a fine spring +afternoon, with the physical darkness of despair upon my eyesight. Long +after he made me a formal retractation of the sermon and a formal apology +for the pain he had inflicted; adding drolly, but truly, ‘You see, at +that time I was so much younger than you!’ And yet even in those days +there was much to learn from him; and above all his fine spirit of piety, +bravely and trustfully accepting life, and his singular delight in the +heroic. + +His piety was, indeed, a thing of chief importance. His views (as they +are called) upon religious matters varied much; and he could never be +induced to think them more or less than views. ‘All dogma is to me mere +form,’ he wrote; ‘dogmas are mere blind struggles to express the +inexpressible. I cannot conceive that any single proposition whatever in +religion is true in the scientific sense; and yet all the while I think +the religious view of the world is the most true view. Try to separate +from the mass of their statements that which is common to Socrates, +Isaiah, David, St. Bernard, the Jansenists, Luther, Mahomet, Bunyan—yes, +and George Eliot: of course you do not believe that this something could +be written down in a set of propositions like Euclid, neither will you +deny that there is something common and this something very valuable. . . . +I shall be sorry if the boys ever give a moment’s thought to the +question of what community they belong to—I hope they will belong to the +great community.’ I should observe that as time went on his conformity +to the church in which he was born grew more complete, and his views drew +nearer the conventional. ‘The longer I live, my dear Louis,’ he wrote +but a few months before his death, ‘the more convinced I become of a +direct care by God—which is reasonably impossible—but there it is.’ And +in his last year he took the communion. + +But at the time when I fell under his influence, he stood more aloof; and +this made him the more impressive to a youthful atheist. He had a keen +sense of language and its imperial influence on men; language contained +all the great and sound metaphysics, he was wont to say; and a word once +made and generally understood, he thought a real victory of man and +reason. But he never dreamed it could be accurate, knowing that words +stand symbol for the indefinable. I came to him once with a problem +which had puzzled me out of measure: what is a cause? why out of so many +innumerable millions of conditions, all necessary, should one be singled +out and ticketed ‘the cause’? ‘You do not understand,’ said he. ‘A +cause is the answer to a question: it designates that condition which I +happen to know and you happen not to know.’ It was thus, with partial +exception of the mathematical, that he thought of all means of reasoning: +they were in his eyes but means of communication, so to be understood, so +to be judged, and only so far to be credited. The mathematical he made, +I say, exception of: number and measure he believed in to the extent of +their significance, but that significance, he was never weary of +reminding you, was slender to the verge of nonentity. Science was true, +because it told us almost nothing. With a few abstractions it could +deal, and deal correctly; conveying honestly faint truths. Apply its +means to any concrete fact of life, and this high dialect of the wise +became a childish jargon. + +Thus the atheistic youth was met at every turn by a scepticism more +complete than his own, so that the very weapons of the fight were changed +in his grasp to swords of paper. Certainly the church is not right, he +would argue, but certainly not the anti-church either. Men are not such +fools as to be wholly in the wrong, nor yet are they so placed as to be +ever wholly in the right. Somewhere, in mid air between the disputants, +like hovering Victory in some design of a Greek battle, the truth hangs +undiscerned. And in the meanwhile what matter these uncertainties? +Right is very obvious; a great consent of the best of mankind, a loud +voice within us (whether of God, or whether by inheritance, and in that +case still from God), guide and command us in the path of duty. He saw +life very simple; he did not love refinements; he was a friend to much +conformity in unessentials. For (he would argue) it is in this life as +it stands about us, that we are given our problem; the manners of the day +are the colours of our palette; they condition, they constrain us; and a +man must be very sure he is in the right, must (in a favourite phrase of +his) be ‘either very wise or very vain,’ to break with any general +consent in ethics. I remember taking his advice upon some point of +conduct. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘how do you suppose Christ would have advised +you?’ and when I had answered that he would not have counselled me +anything unkind or cowardly, ‘No,’ he said, with one of his shrewd +strokes at the weakness of his hearer, ‘nor anything amusing.’ Later in +life, he made less certain in the field of ethics. ‘The old story of the +knowledge of good and evil is a very true one,’ I find him writing; only +(he goes on) ‘the effect of the original dose is much worn out, leaving +Adam’s descendants with the knowledge that there is such a thing—but +uncertain where.’ His growing sense of this ambiguity made him less +swift to condemn, but no less stimulating in counsel. ‘You grant +yourself certain freedoms. Very well,’ he would say, ‘I want to see you +pay for them some other way. You positively cannot do this: then there +positively must be something else that you can do, and I want to see you +find that out and do it.’ Fleeming would never suffer you to think that +you were living, if there were not, somewhere in your life, some touch of +heroism, to do or to endure. + +This was his rarest quality. Far on in middle age, when men begin to lie +down with the bestial goddesses, Comfort and Respectability, the strings +of his nature still sounded as high a note as a young man’s. He loved +the harsh voice of duty like a call to battle. He loved courage, +enterprise, brave natures, a brave word, an ugly virtue; everything that +lifts us above the table where we eat or the bed we sleep upon. This +with no touch of the motive-monger or the ascetic. He loved his virtues +to be practical, his heroes to be great eaters of beef; he loved the +jovial Heracles, loved the astute Odysseus; not the Robespierres and +Wesleys. A fine buoyant sense of life and of man’s unequal character ran +through all his thoughts. He could not tolerate the spirit of the +pick-thank; being what we are, he wished us to see others with a generous +eye of admiration, not with the smallness of the seeker after faults. If +there shone anywhere a virtue, no matter how incongruously set, it was +upon the virtue we must fix our eyes. I remember having found much +entertainment in Voltaire’s _Saül_, and telling him what seemed to me the +drollest touches. He heard me out, as usual when displeased, and then +opened fire on me with red-hot shot. To belittle a noble story was easy; +it was not literature, it was not art, it was not morality; there was no +sustenance in such a form of jesting, there was (in his favourite phrase) +‘no nitrogenous food’ in such literature. And then he proceeded to show +what a fine fellow David was; and what a hard knot he was in about +Bathsheba, so that (the initial wrong committed) honour might well +hesitate in the choice of conduct; and what owls those people were who +marvelled because an Eastern tyrant had killed Uriah, instead of +marvelling that he had not killed the prophet also. ‘Now if Voltaire had +helped me to feel that,’ said he, ‘I could have seen some fun in it.’ He +loved the comedy which shows a hero human, and yet leaves him a hero, and +the laughter which does not lessen love. + +It was this taste for what is fine in human-kind, that ruled his choice +in books. These should all strike a high note, whether brave or tender, +and smack of the open air. The noble and simple presentation of things +noble and simple, that was the ‘nitrogenous food’ of which he spoke so +much, which he sought so eagerly, enjoyed so royally. He wrote to an +author, the first part of whose story he had seen with sympathy, hoping +that it might continue in the same vein. ‘That this may be so,’ he +wrote, ‘I long with the longing of David for the water of Bethlehem. But +no man need die for the water a poet can give, and all can drink it to +the end of time, and their thirst be quenched and the pool never dry—and +the thirst and the water are both blessed.’ It was in the Greeks +particularly that he found this blessed water; he loved ‘a fresh air’ +which he found ‘about the Greek things even in translations’; he loved +their freedom from the mawkish and the rancid. The tale of David in the +Bible, the _Odyssey_, Sophocles, Æschylus, Shakespeare, Scott; old Dumas +in his chivalrous note; Dickens rather than Thackeray, and the _Tale of +Two Cities_ out of Dickens: such were some of his preferences. To +Ariosto and Boccaccio he was always faithful; _Burnt Njal_ was a late +favourite; and he found at least a passing entertainment in the _Arcadia_ +and the _Grand Cyrus_. George Eliot he outgrew, finding her latterly +only sawdust in the mouth; but her influence, while it lasted, was great, +and must have gone some way to form his mind. He was easily set on edge, +however, by didactic writing; and held that books should teach no other +lesson but what ‘real life would teach, were it as vividly presented.’ +Again, it was the thing made that took him, the drama in the book; to the +book itself, to any merit of the making, he was long strangely blind. He +would prefer the _Agamemnon_ in the prose of Mr. Buckley, ay, to Keats. +But he was his mother’s son, learning to the last. He told me one day +that literature was not a trade; that it was no craft; that the professed +author was merely an amateur with a door-plate. ‘Very well,’ said I, +‘the first time you get a proof, I will demonstrate that it is as much a +trade as bricklaying, and that you do not know it.’ By the very next +post, a proof came. I opened it with fear; for he was indeed, as the +reader will see by these volumes, a formidable amateur; always wrote +brightly, because he always thought trenchantly; and sometimes wrote +brilliantly, as the worst of whistlers may sometimes stumble on a perfect +intonation. But it was all for the best in the interests of his +education; and I was able, over that proof, to give him a quarter of an +hour such as Fleeming loved both to give and to receive. His subsequent +training passed out of my hands into those of our common friend, W. E. +Henley. ‘Henley and I,’ he wrote, ‘have fairly good times wigging one +another for not doing better. I wig him because he won’t try to write a +real play, and he wigs me because I can’t try to write English.’ When I +next saw him, he was full of his new acquisitions. ‘And yet I have lost +something too,’ he said regretfully. ‘Up to now Scott seemed to me quite +perfect, he was all I wanted. Since I have been learning this confounded +thing, I took up one of the novels, and a great deal of it is both +careless and clumsy.’ + + + +V. + + +He spoke four languages with freedom, not even English with any marked +propriety. What he uttered was not so much well said, as excellently +acted: so we may hear every day the inexpressive language of a +poorly-written drama assume character and colour in the hands of a good +player. No man had more of the _vis comica_ in private life; he played +no character on the stage, as he could play himself among his friends. +It was one of his special charms; now when the voice is silent and the +face still, it makes it impossible to do justice to his power in +conversation. He was a delightful companion to such as can bear bracing +weather; not to the very vain; not to the owlishly wise, who cannot have +their dogmas canvassed; not to the painfully refined, whose sentiments +become articles of faith. The spirit in which he could write that he was +‘much revived by having an opportunity of abusing Whistler to a knot of +his special admirers,’ is a spirit apt to be misconstrued. He was not a +dogmatist, even about Whistler. ‘The house is full of pretty things,’ he +wrote, when on a visit; ‘but Mrs. —’s taste in pretty things has one very +bad fault: it is not my taste.’ And that was the true attitude of his +mind; but these eternal differences it was his joy to thresh out and +wrangle over by the hour. It was no wonder if he loved the Greeks; he +was in many ways a Greek himself; he should have been a sophist and met +Socrates; he would have loved Socrates, and done battle with him +staunchly and manfully owned his defeat; and the dialogue, arranged by +Plato, would have shown even in Plato’s gallery. He seemed in talk +aggressive, petulant, full of a singular energy; as vain you would have +said as a peacock, until you trod on his toes, and then you saw that he +was at least clear of all the sicklier elements of vanity. Soundly rang +his laugh at any jest against himself. He wished to be taken, as he took +others, for what was good in him without dissimulation of the evil, for +what was wise in him without concealment of the childish. He hated a +draped virtue, and despised a wit on its own defence. And he drew (if I +may so express myself) a human and humorous portrait of himself with all +his defects and qualities, as he thus enjoyed in talk the robust sports +of the intelligence; giving and taking manfully, always without pretence, +always with paradox, always with exuberant pleasure; speaking wisely of +what he knew, foolishly of what he knew not; a teacher, a learner, but +still combative; picking holes in what was said even to the length of +captiousness, yet aware of all that was said rightly; jubilant in +victory, delighted by defeat: a Greek sophist, a British schoolboy. + +Among the legends of what was once a very pleasant spot, the old Savile +Club, not then divorced from Savile Row, there are many memories of +Fleeming. He was not popular at first, being known simply as ‘the man +who dines here and goes up to Scotland’; but he grew at last, I think, +the most generally liked of all the members. To those who truly knew and +loved him, who had tasted the real sweetness of his nature, Fleeming’s +porcupine ways had always been a matter of keen regret. They introduced +him to their own friends with fear; sometimes recalled the step with +mortification. It was not possible to look on with patience while a man +so lovable thwarted love at every step. But the course of time and the +ripening of his nature brought a cure. It was at the Savile that he +first remarked a change; it soon spread beyond the walls of the club. +Presently I find him writing: ‘Will you kindly explain what has happened +to me? All my life I have talked a good deal, with the almost unfailing +result of making people sick of the sound of my tongue. It appeared to +me that I had various things to say, and I had no malevolent feelings, +but nevertheless the result was that expressed above. Well, lately some +change has happened. If I talk to a person one day, they must have me +the next. Faces light up when they see me.—“Ah, I say, come here,”—“come +and dine with me.” It’s the most preposterous thing I ever experienced. +It is curiously pleasant. You have enjoyed it all your life, and +therefore cannot conceive how bewildering a burst of it is for the first +time at forty-nine.’ And this late sunshine of popularity still further +softened him. He was a bit of a porcupine to the last, still shedding +darts; or rather he was to the end a bit of a schoolboy, and must still +throw stones, but the essential toleration that underlay his +disputatiousness, and the kindness that made of him a tender sicknurse +and a generous helper, shone more conspicuously through. A new pleasure +had come to him; and as with all sound natures, he was bettered by the +pleasure. + +I can best show Fleeming in this later stage by quoting from a vivid and +interesting letter of M. Emile Trélat’s. Here, admirably expressed, is +how he appeared to a friend of another nation, whom he encountered only +late in life. M. Trélat will pardon me if I correct, even before I quote +him; but what the Frenchman supposed to flow from some particular +bitterness against France, was only Fleeming’s usual address. Had M. +Trélat been Italian, Italy would have fared as ill; and yet Italy was +Fleeming’s favourite country. + + Vous savez comment j’ai connu Fleeming Jenkin! C’était en Mai 1878. + Nous étions tous deux membres du jury de l’Exposition Universelle. + On n’avait rien fait qui vaille à la première séance de notre classe, + qui avait eu lieu le matin. Tout le monde avait parlé et reparlé + pour ne rien dire. Cela durait depuis huit heures; il était midi. + Je demandai la parole pour une motion d’ordre, et je proposai que la + séance fut levée à la condition que chaque membre français, + _emportât_ à déjeuner un juré étranger. Jenkin applaudit. ‘Je vous + emmène déjeuner,’ lui criai-je. ‘Je veux bien.’ . . . Nous partîmes; + en chemin nous vous rencontrions; il vous présente et nous allons + déjeuner tous trois auprès du Trocadéro. + + Et, depuis ce temps, nous avons été de vieux amis. Non seulement + nous passions nos journées au jury, où nous étions toujours ensemble, + côte-à-côte. Mais nos habitudes s’étaient faites telles que, non + contents de déjeuner en face l’un de l’autre, je le ramenais dîner + presque tous les jours chez moi. Cela dura une quinzaine: puis il + fut rappelé en Angleterre. Mais il revint, et nous fîmes encore une + bonne étape de vie intellectuelle, morale et philosophique. Je crois + qu’il me rendait déjà tout ce que j’éprouvais de sympathie et + d’estime, et que je ne fus pas pour rien dans son retour à Paris. + + Chose singulière! nous nous étions attachés l’un à l’autre par les + sous-entendus bien plus que par la matière de nos conversations. À + vrai dire, nous étions presque toujours en discussion; et il nous + arrivait de nous rire au nez l’un et l’autre pendant des heures, tant + nous nous étonnions réciproquement de la diversité de nos points de + vue. Je le trouvais si Anglais, et il me trouvais si Français! Il + était si franchement révolté de certaines choses qu’il voyait chez + nous, et je comprenais si mal certaines choses qui se passaient chez + vous! Rien de plus intéressant que ces contacts qui étaient des + contrastes, et que ces rencontres d’idées qui étaient des choses; + rien de si attachant que les échappées de cœur ou d’esprit auxquelles + ces petits conflits donnaient à tout moment cours. C’est dans ces + conditions que, pendant son séjour à Paris en 1878, je conduisis un + peu partout mon nouvel ami. Nous allâmes chez Madame Edmond Adam, où + il vit passer beaucoup d’hommes politiques avec lesquels il causa. + Mais c’est chez les ministres qu’il fut intéressé. Le moment était, + d’ailleurs, curieux en France. Je me rappelle que, lorsque je le + présentai au Ministre du Commerce, il fit cette spirituelle repartie: + ‘C’est la seconde fois que je viens en France sous la République. La + première fois, c’était en 1848, elle s’était coiffée de travers: je + suis bien heureux de saluer aujourd’hui votre excellence, quand elle + a mis son chapeau droit.’ Une fois je le menai voir couronner la + Rosière de Nanterre. Il y suivit les cérémonies civiles et + religieuses; il y assista au banquet donné par le Maire; il y vit + notre de Lesseps, auquel il porta un toast. Le soir, nous revînmes + tard à Paris; il faisait chaud; nous étions un peu fatigués; nous + entrâmes dans un des rares cafés encore ouverts. Il devint + silencieux.—‘N’êtes-vous pas content de votre journée?’ lui + dis-je.—‘O, si! mais je réfléchis, et je me dis que vous êtes un + peuple gai—tous ces braves gens étaient gais aujourd’hui. C’est une + vertu, la gaieté, et vous l’avez en France, cette vertu!’ Il me + disait cela mélancoliquement; et c’était la première fois que je lui + entendais faire une louange adressée à la France. . . . Mais il ne + faut pas que vous voyiez là une plainte de ma part. Je serais un + ingrat si je me plaignais; car il me disait souvent: ‘Quel bon + Français vous faites!’ Et il m’aimait à cause de cela, quoiqu’il + semblât n’aimer pas la France. C’était là un trait de son + originalité. Il est vrai qu’il s’en tirait en disant que je ne + ressemblai pas à mes compatriotes, ce à quoi il ne connaissait + rien!—Tout cela était fort curieux; car, moi-même, je l’aimais + quoiqu’il en eût à mon pays! + + En 1879 il amena son fils Austin à Paris. J’attirai celui-ci. Il + déjeunait avec moi deux fois par semaine. Je lui montrai ce qu’était + l’intimité française en le tutoyant paternellement. Cela reserra + beaucoup nos liens d’intimité avec Jenkin. . . . Je fis inviter mon + ami au congrès de l’_Association française pour l’avancement des + sciences_, qui se tenait à Rheims en 1880. Il y vint. J’eus le + plaisir de lui donner la parole dans la section du génie civil et + militaire, que je présidais. Il y fit une très intéressante + communication, qui me montrait une fois de plus l’originalité de ses + vues et la sûreté de sa science. C’est à l’issue de ce congrès que + je passai lui faire visite à Rochefort, où je le trouvai installé en + famille et où je présentai pour la première fois mes hommages à son + éminente compagne. Je le vis là sous un jour nouveau et touchant + pour moi. Madame Jenkin, qu’il entourait si galamment, et ses deux + jeunes fils donnaient encore plus de relief à sa personne. + J’emportai des quelques heures que je passai à côte de lui dans ce + charmant paysage un souvenir ému. + + J’étais allé en Angleterre en 1882 sans pouvoir gagner Edimbourg. + J’y retournai en 1883 avec la commission d’assainissement de la ville + de Paris, dont je faisais partie. Jenkin me rejoignit. Je le fis + entendre par mes collègues; car il était fondateur d’une société de + salubrité. Il eut un grand succès parmi nous. Mais ce voyage me + restera toujours en mémoire parce que c’est là que se fixa + défenitivement notre forte amitié. Il m’invita un jour à dîner à son + club et au moment de me faire asseoir à côté de lui, il me retint et + me dit: ‘Je voudrais vous demander de m’accorder quelque chose. + C’est mon sentiment que nos relations ne peuvent pas se bien + continuer si vous ne me donnez pas la permission de vous tutoyer. + Voulez-vous que nous nous tutoyions?’ Je lui pris les mains et je + lui dis qu’une pareille proposition venant d’un Anglais, et d’un + Anglais de sa haute distinction, c’était une victoire, dont je serais + fier toute ma vie. Et nous commencions à user de cette nouvelle + forme dans nos rapports. Vous savez avec quelle finesse il parlait + le français: comme il en connaissait tous les tours, comme il jouait + avec ses difficultés, et même avec ses petites gamineries. Je crois + qu’il a été heureux de pratiquer avec moi ce tutoiement, qui ne + s’adapte pas à l’anglais, et qui est si français. Je ne puis vous + peindre l’étendue et la variété de nos conversations de la soirée. + Mais ce que je puis vous dire, c’est que, sous la caresse du _tu_, + nos idées se sont élevées. Nous avions toujours beaucoup ri + ensemble; mais nous n’avions jamais laissé des banalités s’introduire + dans nos échanges de pensées. Ce soir-là, notre horizon intellectuel + s’est élargie, et nous y avons poussé des reconnaissances profondes + et lointaines. Après avoir vivement causé à table, nous avons + longuement causé au salon; et nous nous séparions le soir à Trafalgar + Square, après avoir longé les trottoirs, stationné aux coins des rues + et deux fois rebroussé chemin en nous reconduisant l’un l’autre. Il + était près d’une heure du matin! Mais quelle belle passe + d’argumentation, quels beaux échanges de sentiments, quelles fortes + confidences patriotiques nous avions fournies! J’ai compris ce soir + là que Jenkin ne détestait pas la France, et je lui serrai fort les + mains en l’embrassant. Nous nous quittions aussi amis qu’on puisse + l’être; et notre affection s’était par lui étendue et comprise dans + un _tu_ français. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. 1875–1885. + + +Mrs. Jenkin’s Illness—Captain Jenkin—The Golden Wedding—Death of Uncle +John—Death of Mr. and Mrs. Austin—Illness and Death of the Captain—Death +of Mrs. Jenkin—Effect on Fleeming—Telpherage—The End. + +AND now I must resume my narrative for that melancholy business that +concludes all human histories. In January of the year 1875, while +Fleeming’s sky was still unclouded, he was reading Smiles. ‘I read my +engineers’ lives steadily,’ he writes, ‘but find biographies depressing. +I suspect one reason to be that misfortunes and trials can be graphically +described, but happiness and the causes of happiness either cannot be or +are not. A grand new branch of literature opens to my view: a drama in +which people begin in a poor way and end, after getting gradually +happier, in an ecstasy of enjoyment. The common novel is not the thing +at all. It gives struggle followed by relief. I want each act to close +on a new and triumphant happiness, which has been steadily growing all +the while. This is the real antithesis of tragedy, where things get +blacker and blacker and end in hopeless woe. Smiles has not grasped my +grand idea, and only shows a bitter struggle followed by a little respite +before death. Some feeble critic might say my new idea was not true to +nature. I’m sick of this old-fashioned notion of art. Hold a mirror up, +indeed! Let’s paint a picture of how things ought to be and hold that up +to nature, and perhaps the poor old woman may repent and mend her ways.’ +The ‘grand idea’ might be possible in art; not even the ingenuity of +nature could so round in the actual life of any man. And yet it might +almost seem to fancy that she had read the letter and taken the hint; for +to Fleeming the cruelties of fate were strangely blended with tenderness, +and when death came, it came harshly to others, to him not unkindly. + +In the autumn of that same year 1875, Fleeming’s father and mother were +walking in the garden of their house at Merchiston, when the latter fell +to the ground. It was thought at the time to be a stumble; it was in all +likelihood a premonitory stroke of palsy. From that day, there fell upon +her an abiding panic fear; that glib, superficial part of us that speaks +and reasons could allege no cause, science itself could find no mark of +danger, a son’s solicitude was laid at rest; but the eyes of the body saw +the approach of a blow, and the consciousness of the body trembled at its +coming. It came in a moment; the brilliant, spirited old lady leapt from +her bed, raving. For about six months, this stage of her disease +continued with many painful and many pathetic circumstances; her husband +who tended her, her son who was unwearied in his visits, looked for no +change in her condition but the change that comes to all. ‘Poor mother,’ +I find Fleeming writing, ‘I cannot get the tones of her voice out of my +head. . . I may have to bear this pain for a long time; and so I am +bearing it and sparing myself whatever pain seems useless. Mercifully I +do sleep, I am so weary that I must sleep.’ And again later: ‘I could do +very well, if my mind did not revert to my poor mother’s state whenever I +stop attending to matters immediately before me.’ And the next day: ‘I +can never feel a moment’s pleasure without having my mother’s suffering +recalled by the very feeling of happiness. A pretty, young face recalls +hers by contrast—a careworn face recalls it by association. I tell you, +for I can speak to no one else; but do not suppose that I wilfully let my +mind dwell on sorrow.’ + +In the summer of the next year, the frenzy left her; it left her stone +deaf and almost entirely aphasic, but with some remains of her old sense +and courage. Stoutly she set to work with dictionaries, to recover her +lost tongues; and had already made notable progress, when a third stroke +scattered her acquisitions. Thenceforth, for nearly ten years, stroke +followed upon stroke, each still further jumbling the threads of her +intelligence, but by degrees so gradual and with such partiality of loss +and of survival, that her precise state was always and to the end a +matter of dispute. She still remembered her friends; she still loved to +learn news of them upon the slate; she still read and marked the list of +the subscription library; she still took an interest in the choice of a +play for the theatricals, and could remember and find parallel passages; +but alongside of these surviving powers, were lapses as remarkable, she +misbehaved like a child, and a servant had to sit with her at table. To +see her so sitting, speaking with the tones of a deaf mute not always to +the purpose, and to remember what she had been, was a moving appeal to +all who knew her. Such was the pathos of these two old people in their +affliction, that even the reserve of cities was melted and the neighbours +vied in sympathy and kindness. Where so many were more than usually +helpful, it is hard to draw distinctions; but I am directed and I delight +to mention in particular the good Dr. Joseph Bell, Mr. Thomas, and Mr. +Archibald Constable with both their wives, the Rev. Mr. Belcombe (of +whose good heart and taste I do not hear for the first time—the news had +come to me by way of the Infirmary), and their next-door neighbour, +unwearied in service, Miss Hannah Mayne. Nor should I omit to mention +that John Ruffini continued to write to Mrs. Jenkin till his own death, +and the clever lady known to the world as Vernon Lee until the end: a +touching, a becoming attention to what was only the wreck and survival of +their brilliant friend. + +But he to whom this affliction brought the greatest change was the +Captain himself. What was bitter in his lot, he bore with unshaken +courage; only once, in these ten years of trial, has Mrs. Fleeming Jenkin +seen him weep; for the rest of the time his wife—his commanding officer, +now become his trying child—was served not with patience alone, but with +a lovely happiness of temper. He had belonged all his life to the +ancient, formal, speechmaking, compliment-presenting school of courtesy; +the dictates of this code partook in his eyes of the nature of a duty; +and he must now be courteous for two. Partly from a happy illusion, +partly in a tender fraud, he kept his wife before the world as a still +active partner. When he paid a call, he would have her write ‘with love’ +upon a card; or if that (at the moment) was too much, he would go armed +with a bouquet and present it in her name. He even wrote letters for her +to copy and sign: an innocent substitution, which may have caused +surprise to Ruffini or to Vernon Lee, if they ever received, in the hand +of Mrs. Jenkin the very obvious reflections of her husband. He had +always adored this wife whom he now tended and sought to represent in +correspondence: it was now, if not before, her turn to repay the +compliment; mind enough was left her to perceive his unwearied kindness; +and as her moral qualities seemed to survive quite unimpaired, a childish +love and gratitude were his reward. She would interrupt a conversation +to cross the room and kiss him. If she grew excited (as she did too +often) it was his habit to come behind her chair and pat her shoulder; +and then she would turn round, and clasp his hand in hers, and look from +him to her visitor with a face of pride and love; and it was at such +moments only that the light of humanity revived in her eyes. It was hard +for any stranger, it was impossible for any that loved them, to behold +these mute scenes, to recall the past, and not to weep. But to the +Captain, I think it was all happiness. After these so long years, he had +found his wife again; perhaps kinder than ever before; perhaps now on a +more equal footing; certainly, to his eyes, still beautiful. And the +call made on his intelligence had not been made in vain. The merchants +of Aux Cayes, who had seen him tried in some ‘counter-revolution’ in +1845, wrote to the consul of his ‘able and decided measures,’ ‘his cool, +steady judgment and discernment’ with admiration; and of himself, as ‘a +credit and an ornament to H. M. Naval Service.’ It is plain he must have +sunk in all his powers, during the years when he was only a figure, and +often a dumb figure, in his wife’s drawing-room; but with this new term +of service, he brightened visibly. He showed tact and even invention in +managing his wife, guiding or restraining her by the touch, holding +family worship so arranged that she could follow and take part in it. He +took (to the world’s surprise) to reading—voyages, biographies, Blair’s +_Sermons_, even (for her letter’s sake) a work of Vernon Lee’s, which +proved, however, more than he was quite prepared for. He shone more, in +his remarkable way, in society; and twice he had a little holiday to +Glenmorven, where, as may be fancied, he was the delight of the +Highlanders. One of his last pleasures was to arrange his dining-room. +Many and many a room (in their wandering and thriftless existence) had he +seen his wife furnish with exquisite taste, and perhaps with +‘considerable luxury’: now it was his turn to be the decorator. On the +wall he had an engraving of Lord Rodney’s action, showing the _Prothée_, +his father’s ship, if the reader recollects; on either side of this on +brackets, his father’s sword, and his father’s telescope, a gift from +Admiral Buckner, who had used it himself during the engagement; higher +yet, the head of his grandson’s first stag, portraits of his son and his +son’s wife, and a couple of old Windsor jugs from Mrs. Buckner’s. But +his simple trophy was not yet complete; a device had to be worked and +framed and hung below the engraving; and for this he applied to his +daughter-in-law: ‘I want you to work me something, Annie. An anchor at +each side—an anchor—stands for an old sailor, you know—stands for hope, +you know—an anchor at each side, and in the middle THANKFUL.’ It is not +easy, on any system of punctuation, to represent the Captain’s speech. +Yet I hope there may shine out of these facts, even as there shone +through his own troubled utterance, some of the charm of that delightful +spirit. + +In 1881, the time of the golden wedding came round for that sad and +pretty household. It fell on a Good Friday, and its celebration can +scarcely be recalled without both smiles and tears. The drawing-room was +filled with presents and beautiful bouquets; these, to Fleeming and his +family, the golden bride and bridegroom displayed with unspeakable pride, +she so painfully excited that the guests feared every moment to see her +stricken afresh, he guiding and moderating her with his customary tact +and understanding, and doing the honours of the day with more than his +usual delight. Thence they were brought to the dining-room, where the +Captain’s idea of a feast awaited them: tea and champagne, fruit and +toast and childish little luxuries, set forth pell-mell and pressed at +random on the guests. And here he must make a speech for himself and his +wife, praising their destiny, their marriage, their son, their +daughter-in-law, their grandchildren, their manifold causes of gratitude: +surely the most innocent speech, the old, sharp contemner of his +innocence now watching him with eyes of admiration. Then it was time for +the guests to depart; and they went away, bathed, even to the youngest +child, in tears of inseparable sorrow and gladness, and leaving the +golden bride and bridegroom to their own society and that of the hired +nurse. + +It was a great thing for Fleeming to make, even thus late, the +acquaintance of his father; but the harrowing pathos of such scenes +consumed him. In a life of tense intellectual effort, a certain +smoothness of emotional tenor were to be desired; or we burn the candle +at both ends. Dr. Bell perceived the evil that was being done; he +pressed Mrs. Jenkin to restrain her husband from too frequent visits; but +here was one of those clear-cut, indubitable duties for which Fleeming +lived, and he could not pardon even the suggestion of neglect. + +And now, after death had so long visibly but still innocuously hovered +above the family, it began at last to strike and its blows fell thick and +heavy. The first to go was uncle John Jenkin, taken at last from his +Mexican dwelling and the lost tribes of Israel; and nothing in this +remarkable old gentleman’s life, became him like the leaving of it. His +sterling, jovial acquiescence in man’s destiny was a delight to Fleeming. +‘My visit to Stowting has been a very strange but not at all a painful +one,’ he wrote. ‘In case you ever wish to make a person die as he ought +to die in a novel,’ he said to me, ‘I must tell you all about my old +uncle.’ He was to see a nearer instance before long; for this family of +Jenkin, if they were not very aptly fitted to live, had the art of manly +dying. Uncle John was but an outsider after all; he had dropped out of +hail of his nephew’s way of life and station in society, and was more +like some shrewd, old, humble friend who should have kept a lodge; yet he +led the procession of becoming deaths, and began in the mind of Fleeming +that train of tender and grateful thought, which was like a preparation +for his own. Already I find him writing in the plural of ‘these +impending deaths’; already I find him in quest of consolation. ‘There is +little pain in store for these wayfarers,’ he wrote, ‘and we have +hope—more than hope, trust.’ + +On May 19, 1884, Mr. Austin was taken. He was seventy-eight years of +age, suffered sharply with all his old firmness, and died happy in the +knowledge that he had left his wife well cared for. This had always been +a bosom concern; for the Barrons were long-lived and he believed that she +would long survive him. But their union had been so full and quiet that +Mrs. Austin languished under the separation. In their last years, they +would sit all evening in their own drawing-room hand in hand: two old +people who, for all their fundamental differences, had yet grown together +and become all the world in each other’s eyes and hearts; and it was felt +to be a kind release, when eight months after, on January 14, 1885, Eliza +Barron followed Alfred Austin. ‘I wish I could save you from all pain,’ +wrote Fleeming six days later to his sorrowing wife, ‘I would if I +could—but my way is not God’s way; and of this be assured,—God’s way is +best.’ + +In the end of the same month, Captain Jenkin caught cold and was confined +to bed. He was so unchanged in spirit that at first there seemed no +ground of fear; but his great age began to tell, and presently it was +plain he had a summons. The charm of his sailor’s cheerfulness and +ancient courtesy, as he lay dying, is not to be described. There he lay, +singing his old sea songs; watching the poultry from the window with a +child’s delight; scribbling on the slate little messages to his wife, who +lay bed-ridden in another room; glad to have Psalms read aloud to him, if +they were of a pious strain—checking, with an ‘I don’t think we need read +that, my dear,’ any that were gloomy or bloody. Fleeming’s wife coming +to the house and asking one of the nurses for news of Mrs. Jenkin, +‘Madam, I do not know,’ said the nurse; ‘for I am really so carried away +by the Captain that I can think of nothing else.’ One of the last +messages scribbled to his wife and sent her with a glass of the champagne +that had been ordered for himself, ran, in his most finished vein of +childish madrigal: ‘The Captain bows to you, my love, across the table.’ +When the end was near and it was thought best that Fleeming should no +longer go home but sleep at Merchiston, he broke his news to the Captain +with some trepidation, knowing that it carried sentence of death. +‘Charming, charming—charming arrangement,’ was the Captain’s only +commentary. It was the proper thing for a dying man, of Captain Jenkin’s +school of manners, to make some expression of his spiritual state; nor +did he neglect the observance. With his usual abruptness, ‘Fleeming,’ +said he, ‘I suppose you and I feel about all this as two Christian +gentlemen should.’ A last pleasure was secured for him. He had been +waiting with painful interest for news of Gordon and Khartoum; and by +great good fortune, a false report reached him that the city was +relieved, and the men of Sussex (his old neighbours) had been the first +to enter. He sat up in bed and gave three cheers for the Sussex +regiment. The subsequent correction, if it came in time, was prudently +withheld from the dying man. An hour before midnight on the fifth of +February, he passed away: aged eighty-four. + +Word of his death was kept from Mrs. Jenkin; and she survived him no more +than nine and forty hours. On the day before her death, she received a +letter from her old friend Miss Bell of Manchester, knew the hand, kissed +the envelope, and laid it on her heart; so that she too died upon a +pleasure. Half an hour after midnight, on the eighth of February, she +fell asleep: it is supposed in her seventy-eighth year. + +Thus, in the space of less than ten months, the four seniors of this +family were taken away; but taken with such features of opportunity in +time or pleasant courage in the sufferer, that grief was tempered with a +kind of admiration. The effect on Fleeming was profound. His pious +optimism increased and became touched with something mystic and filial. +‘The grave is not good, the approaches to it are terrible,’ he had +written in the beginning of his mother’s illness: he thought so no more, +when he had laid father and mother side by side at Stowting. He had +always loved life; in the brief time that now remained to him, he seemed +to be half in love with death. ‘Grief is no duty,’ he wrote to Miss +Bell; ‘it was all too beautiful for grief,’ he said to me; but the +emotion, call it by what name we please, shook him to his depths; his +wife thought he would have broken his heart when he must demolish the +Captain’s trophy in the dining-room, and he seemed thenceforth scarcely +the same man. + +These last years were indeed years of an excessive demand upon his +vitality; he was not only worn out with sorrow, he was worn out by hope. +The singular invention to which he gave the name of telpherage, had of +late consumed his time, overtaxed his strength and overheated his +imagination. The words in which he first mentioned his discovery to +me—‘I am simply Alnaschar’—were not only descriptive of his state of +mind, they were in a sense prophetic; since whatever fortune may await +his idea in the future, it was not his to see it bring forth fruit. +Alnaschar he was indeed; beholding about him a world all changed, a world +filled with telpherage wires; and seeing not only himself and family but +all his friends enriched. It was his pleasure, when the company was +floated, to endow those whom he liked with stock; one, at least, never +knew that he was a possible rich man until the grave had closed over his +stealthy benefactor. And however Fleeming chafed among material and +business difficulties, this rainbow vision never faded; and he, like his +father and his mother, may be said to have died upon a pleasure. But the +strain told, and he knew that it was telling. ‘I am becoming a fossil,’ +he had written five years before, as a kind of plea for a holiday visit +to his beloved Italy. ‘Take care! If I am Mr. Fossil, you will be Mrs. +Fossil, and Jack will be Jack Fossil, and all the boys will be little +fossils, and then we shall be a collection.’ There was no fear more +chimerical for Fleeming; years brought him no repose; he was as packed +with energy, as fiery in hope, as at the first; weariness, to which he +began to be no stranger, distressed, it did not quiet him. He feared for +himself, not without ground, the fate which had overtaken his mother; +others shared the fear. In the changed life now made for his family, the +elders dead, the sons going from home upon their education, even their +tried domestic (Mrs. Alice Dunns) leaving the house after twenty-two +years of service, it was not unnatural that he should return to dreams of +Italy. He and his wife were to go (as he told me) on ‘a real honeymoon +tour.’ He had not been alone with his wife ‘to speak of,’ he added, +since the birth of his children. But now he was to enjoy the society of +her to whom he wrote, in these last days, that she was his ‘Heaven on +earth.’ Now he was to revisit Italy, and see all the pictures and the +buildings and the scenes that he admired so warmly, and lay aside for a +time the irritations of his strenuous activity. Nor was this all. A +trifling operation was to restore his former lightness of foot; and it +was a renovated youth that was to set forth upon this reënacted +honeymoon. + +The operation was performed; it was of a trifling character, it seemed to +go well, no fear was entertained; and his wife was reading aloud to him +as he lay in bed, when she perceived him to wander in his mind. It is +doubtful if he ever recovered a sure grasp upon the things of life; and +he was still unconscious when he passed away, June the twelfth, 1885, in +the fifty-third year of his age. He passed; but something in his gallant +vitality had impressed itself upon his friends, and still impresses. Not +from one or two only, but from many, I hear the same tale of how the +imagination refuses to accept our loss and instinctively looks for his +reappearing, and how memory retains his voice and image like things of +yesterday. Others, the well-beloved too, die and are progressively +forgotten; two years have passed since Fleeming was laid to rest beside +his father, his mother, and his Uncle John; and the thought and the look +of our friend still haunt us. + + + + +APPENDIX. + + +I. NOTE ON THE CONTRIBUTIONS OF FLEEMING JENKIN TO ELECTRICAL AND +ENGINEERING SCIENCE. BY SIR WILLIAM THOMSON, F.R.S., LL. D., ETC., ETC. + + +IN the beginning of the year 1859 my former colleague (the first British +University Professor of Engineering), Lewis Gordon, at that time deeply +engaged in the then new work of cable making and cable laying, came to +Glasgow to see apparatus for testing submarine cables and signalling +through them, which I had been preparing for practical use on the first +Atlantic cable, and which had actually done service upon it, during the +six weeks of its successful working between Valencia and Newfoundland. +As soon as he had seen something of what I had in hand, he said to me, ‘I +would like to show this to a young man of remarkable ability, at present +engaged in our works at Birkenhead.’ Fleeming Jenkin was accordingly +telegraphed for, and appeared next morning in Glasgow. He remained for a +week, spending the whole day in my class-room and laboratory, and thus +pleasantly began our lifelong acquaintance. I was much struck, not only +with his brightness and ability, but with his resolution to understand +everything spoken of, to see if possible thoroughly through every +difficult question, and (no if about this!) to slur over nothing. I soon +found that thoroughness of honesty was as strongly engrained in the +scientific as in the moral side of his character. + +In the first week of our acquaintance, the electric telegraph and, +particularly, submarine cables, and the methods, machines, and +instruments for laying, testing, and using them, formed naturally the +chief subject of our conversations and discussions; as it was in fact the +practical object of Jenkin’s visit to me in Glasgow; but not much of the +week had passed before I found him remarkably interested in science +generally, and full of intelligent eagerness on many particular questions +of dynamics and physics. When he returned from Glasgow to Birkenhead a +correspondence commenced between us, which was continued without +intermission up to the last days of his life. It commenced with a +well-sustained fire of letters on each side about the physical qualities +of submarine cables, and the practical results attainable in the way of +rapid signalling through them. Jenkin used excellently the valuable +opportunities for experiment allowed him by Newall, and his partner Lewis +Gordon, at their Birkenhead factory. Thus he began definite scientific +investigation of the copper resistance of the conductor, and the +insulating resistance and specific inductive capacity of its gutta-percha +coating, in the factory, in various stages of manufacture; and he was the +very first to introduce systematically into practice the grand system of +absolute measurement founded in Germany by Gauss and Weber. The immense +value of this step, if only in respect to the electric telegraph, is +amply appreciated by all who remember or who have read something of the +history of submarine telegraphy; but it can scarcely be known generally +how much it is due to Jenkin. + +Looking to the article ‘Telegraph (Electric)’ in the last volume of the +old edition of the ‘Encyclopædia Britannica,’ which was published about +the year 1861, we find on record that Jenkin’s measurements in absolute +units of the specific resistance of pure gutta-percha, and of the +gutta-percha with Chatterton’s compound constituting the insulation of +the Red Sea cable of 1859, are given as the only results in the way of +absolute measurements of the electric resistance of an insulating +material which had then been made. These remarks are prefaced in the +‘Encyclopædia’ article by the following statement: ‘No telegraphic +testing ought in future to be accepted in any department of telegraphic +business which has not this definite character; although it is only +within the last year that convenient instruments for working, in absolute +measure, have been introduced at all, and the whole system of absolute +measure is still almost unknown to practical electricians.’ + +A particular result of great importance in respect to testing is referred +to as follows in the ‘Encyclopædia’ article: ‘The importance of having +results thus stated in absolute measure is illustrated by the +circumstance, that the writer has been able at once to compare them, in +the manner stated in a preceding paragraph, with his own previous +deductions from the testings of the Atlantic cable during its manufacture +in 1857, and with Weber’s measurements of the specific resistance of +copper.’ It has now become universally adapted—first of all in England; +twenty-two years later by Germany, the country of its birth; and by +France and Italy, and all the other countries of Europe and +America—practically the whole scientific world—at the Electrical Congress +in Paris in the years 1882 and 1884. + +An important paper of thirty quarto pages published in the ‘Transactions +of the Royal Society’ for June 19, 1862, under the title ‘Experimental +Researches on the Transmission of Electric Signals through submarine +cables, Part I. Laws of Transmission through various lengths of one +cable, by Fleeming Jenkin, Esq., communicated by C. Wheatstone, Esq., +F.R.S.,’ contains an account of a large part of Jenkin’s experimental +work in the Birkenhead factory during the years 1859 and 1860. This +paper is called Part I. Part II. alas never appeared, but something that +it would have included we can see from the following ominous statement +which I find near the end of Part I.: ‘From this value, the +electrostatical capacity per unit of length and the specific inductive +capacity of the dielectric, could be determined. These points will, +however, be more fully treated of in the second part of this paper.’ +Jenkin had in fact made a determination at Birkenhead of the specific +inductive capacity of gutta-percha, or of the gutta-percha and +Chatterton’s compound constituting the insulation of the cable, on which +he experimented. This was the very first true measurement of the +specific inductive capacity of a dielectric which had been made after the +discovery by Faraday of the existence of the property, and his primitive +measurement of it for the three substances, glass, shellac, and sulphur; +and at the time when Jenkin made his measurements the existence of +specific inductive capacity was either unknown, or ignored, or denied, by +almost all the scientific authorities of the day. + +The original determination of the microfarad, brought out under the +auspices of the British Association Committee on Electrical Standards, is +due to experimental work by Jenkin, described in a paper, ‘Experiments on +Capacity,’ constituting No. IV. of the appendix to the Report presented +by the Committee to the Dundee Meeting of 1867. No other determination, +so far as I know, of this important element of electric measurement has +hitherto been made; and it is no small thing to be proud of in respect to +Jenkin’s fame as a scientific and practical electrician that the +microfarad which we now all use is his. + +The British Association unit of electrical resistance, on which was +founded the first practical approximation to absolute measurement on the +system of Gauss and Weber, was largely due to Jenkin’s zeal as one of the +originators, and persevering energy as a working member, of the first +Electrical Standards Committee. The experimental work of first making +practical standards, founded on the absolute system, which led to the +unit now known as the British Association ohm, was chiefly performed by +Clerk Maxwell and Jenkin. The realisation of the great practical benefit +which has resulted from the experimental and scientific work of the +Committee is certainly in a large measure due to Jenkin’s zeal and +perseverance as secretary, and as editor of the volume of Collected +Reports of the work of the Committee, which extended over eight years, +from 1861 till 1869. The volume of Reports included Jenkin’s Cantor +Lectures of January, 1866, ‘On Submarine Telegraphy,’ through which the +practical applications of the scientific principles for which he had +worked so devotedly for eight years became part of general knowledge in +the engineering profession. + +Jenkin’s scientific activity continued without abatement to the end. For +the last two years of his life he was much occupied with a new mode of +electric locomotion, a very remarkable invention of his own, to which he +gave the name of ‘Telpherage.’ He persevered with endless ingenuity in +carrying out the numerous and difficult mechanical arrangements essential +to the project, up to the very last days of his work in life. He had +completed almost every detail of the realisation of the system which was +recently opened for practical working at Glynde, in Sussex, four months +after his death. + +His book on ‘Magnetism and Electricity,’ published as one of Longman’s +elementary series in 1873, marked a new departure in the exposition of +electricity, as the first text-book containing a systematic application +of the quantitative methods inaugurated by the British Association +Committee on Electrical Standards. In 1883 the seventh edition was +published, after there had already appeared two foreign editions, one in +Italian and the other in German. + +His papers on purely engineering subjects, though not numerous, are +interesting and valuable. Amongst these may be mentioned the article +‘Bridges,’ written by him for the ninth edition of the ‘Encyclopædia +Britannica,’ and afterwards republished as a separate treatise in 1876; +and a paper ‘On the Practical Application of Reciprocal Figures to the +Calculation of Strains in Framework,’ read before the Royal Society of +Edinburgh, and published in the ‘Transactions’ of that Society in 1869. +But perhaps the most important of all is his paper ‘On the Application of +Graphic Methods to the Determination of the Efficiency of Machinery,’ +read before the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and published in the +‘Transactions,’ vol. xxviii. (1876–78), for which he was awarded the +Keith Gold Medal. This paper was a continuation of the subject treated +in ‘Reulaux’s Mechanism,’ and, recognising the value of that work, +supplied the elements required to constitute from Reulaux’s kinematic +system a full machine receiving energy and doing work. + + + +II. NOTE ON THE WORK OF FLEEMING JENKIN IN CONNECTION WITH SANITARY +REFORM. BY LT. COL. ALEXANDER FERGUSSON. + + +IT was, I believe, during the autumn of 1877 that there came to Fleeming +Jenkin the first inkling of an idea, not the least in importance of the +many that emanated from that fertile brain, which, with singular +rapidity, took root, and under his careful fostering expanded into a +scheme the fruits of which have been of the utmost value to his +fellow-citizens and others. + +The phrase which afterwards suggested itself, and came into use, ‘Healthy +houses,’ expresses very happily the drift of this scheme, and the +ultimate object that Jenkin had in view. + +In the summer of that year there had been much talk, and some newspaper +correspondence, on the subject of the unsatisfactory condition of many of +the best houses in Edinburgh as regards their sanitary state. One +gentleman, for example, drew an appalling picture of a large and +expensive house he had bought in the West-end of Edinburgh, fresh from +the builder’s hands. To ascertain precisely what was wrong, and the +steps to be taken to remedy the evils, the effects of which were but too +apparent, obviously demanded the expenditure of much time and careful +study on the part of the intelligent proprietor himself and the +professional experts he had to call in, and, it is needless to add, much +money. There came also, from the poorer parts of the town, the cry that +in many cases the houses of our working people were built anyhow that the +dictates of a narrow economy suggested to the speculative and +irresponsible builder. The horrors of what was called the ‘Sandwich +system,’ amongst other evils, were brought to light. It is sufficient to +say, generally, that this particular practice of the builder consists in +placing in a block of workmen’s houses, to save space and money, the +water cisterns of one flat, directly under the sanitary appliances of the +other, and so on to the top of a house of several storeys. It is easy to +conceive the abominations that must ensue when the leakage of the upper +floors begins to penetrate to the drinking water below. The picture was +a hideous one, apart from the well-known fact that a whole class of +diseases is habitually spread by contaminated water. + +In October, 1876, a brisk and interesting discussion had been carried on +in the columns of the _Times_ at intervals during the greater part of +that month, in which the same subject, that of the health and sewage of +towns, had been dealt with by several writers well informed in such +matters. Amongst others, Professor Jenkin himself took part, as did +Professor G. F. Armstrong, who now occupies the chair of Civil +Engineering in Edinburgh. Many of the truths then advanced had been +recently discussed at a meeting of the British Association. + +It was while such topics were attracting attention that Fleeming Jenkin’s +family were shocked by the sad intelligence of the loss that friends of +theirs had sustained in the deaths of several of their children from +causes that could be traced up to the unsanitary condition of their +house. Sympathy took the practical form of an intense desire that +something might be done to mitigate the chance of such calamities; and, I +am permitted to say, the result of a home-talk on this subject was an +earnest appeal to the head of the house to turn his scientific knowledge +to account in some way that should make people’s homes more healthy, and +their children’s lives more safe. In answer to the call Jenkin turned +his thoughts in this direction. And the scheme which I shall endeavour +briefly to sketch out was the result. + +The obvious remedy for a faulty house is to call in a skilful expert, +architect or engineer, who will doubtless point out by means of reports +and plans what is wrong, and suggest a remedy; but, as remarked by +Professor Jenkin, ‘it has not been the practice for leading engineers to +advise individuals about their house arrangements, except where large +outlay is in contemplation.’ A point of very considerable importance in +such a case as that now supposed. + +The problem was to ensure to the great body of the citizens sound +professional advice concerning their houses, such as had hitherto been +only obtainable at great cost—but ‘with due regard to economical +considerations.’ + +The advantages of co-operation are patent to all. Everyone can +understand how, if a sufficient number of persons combine, there are few +luxuries or advantages that are not within their reach, for a moderate +payment. The advice of a first-rate engineer regarding a dwelling-house +was a palpable advantage; but within the reach of comparatively few. One +has heard of a winter in Madeira being prescribed as the cure for a poor +Infirmary sufferer. + +Like most good plans Jenkin’s scheme was simple in the extreme, and +consisted in _combination_ and a small subscription. + +‘Just,’ he says, ‘as the leading physician of the day may give his +services to great numbers of poor patients when these are gathered in a +hospital, although he could not practically visit them in their own +houses, so the simple fact of a number of clients gathered into a group +will enable the leading engineer to give them the benefit of his advice.’ + +But it was his opinion that only ‘continual supervision could secure the +householder from danger due to defects in sanitary appliances.’ He had +in his eye a case precisely similar. The following passage in one of his +first lectures, afterwards repeated frequently, conveys the essence of +Professor Jenkin’s theory, as well as a graceful acknowledgment of the +source from which this happy idea was derived:— + +‘An analogous case occurred to him,’ he said, ‘in the “Steam Users’ +Association,” in Lancashire. So many boilers burst in that district for +want of inspection that an association was formed for having the boilers +under a continual course of inspection. Let a perfect boiler be bought +from a first-rate maker, the owner has then an apparatus as perfect as it +is now sought to make the sanitary appliances in his house. But in the +course of time the boiler must decay. The prudent proprietor, therefore, +joins the Steam-boiler Association, which, from time to time, examines +his boiler, and by the tests they apply are able to give an absolute +guarantee against accident. This idea of an inspection by an association +was due,’ the lecturer continued, ‘to Sir William Fairbairn, under whom +he had the honour of serving his apprenticeship.’ {288} The steam users +were thus absolutely protected from danger; and the same idea it was +sought to apply to the sanitary system of a house. + +To bring together a sufficient number of persons, to form such a ‘group’ +as had been contemplated, was the first step to be taken. No time was +lost in taking it. The idea hitherto roughly blocked out was now given a +more definite form. The original sketch, as dictated by Jenkin himself, +is before me, and I cannot do better than transcribe it, seeing it is +short and simple. Several important alterations were afterwards made by +himself in consultation with one or two of his Provisional Council; and +as experience suggested:— + + ‘The objects of this Association are twofold. + + ‘1. By taking advantage of the principle of co-operation, to provide + its members at moderate cost with such advice and supervision as + shall ensure the proper sanitary condition of their own dwellings. + + ‘2. By making use of specially qualified officers to support the + inhabitants and local authorities in enforcing obedience to the + provisions of those laws and by-laws which affect the sanitary + condition of the community. + + ‘It is proposed that an Association with these objects be formed; and + that all residents within the municipal boundaries of Edinburgh be + eligible as members. That each member of the Association shall + subscribe _one guinea_ annually. That in return for the annual + subscription each member shall be entitled to the following + advantages:— + + ‘1. A report by the Engineer of the Association on the sanitary + condition of his dwelling, with specific recommendations as to the + improvement of drainage, ventilation, &c., should this be found + necessary. + + ‘2. The supervision of any alterations in the sanitary fittings of + his dwelling which may be carried out by the advice, or with the + approval, of the officers of the Association. + + ‘3. An annual inspection of his premises by the Engineer of the + Association, with a report as to their sanitary condition. + + ‘4. The right, in consideration of a payment of five shillings, of + calling on the Engineer, and legal adviser {290} of the Association + to inspect and report on the existence of any infraction or supposed + infraction of any law affecting the sanitary condition of the + community. + + ‘It is proposed that the Association should be managed by an unpaid + Council, to be selected by ballot from among its members. + + ‘That the following salaried officers be engaged by the Association: + + ‘1. One or more acting engineers, who should give their services + exclusively to the Association. + + ‘2. A consulting engineer, who should exercise a general + supervision, and advise both on the general principles to be + followed, and on difficult cases. + + ‘3. A legal agent, to be engaged on such terms as the Council shall + hereafter think fit. + + ‘4. A permanent secretary. + + ‘It is also proposed that the officers of the Association should, + with the sanction of the Council, have power to take legal + proceedings against persons who shall, in their opinion, be guilty of + any infraction of sanitary regulations in force throughout the + district; and generally it is intended that the Association shall + further and promote all undertakings which, in their opinion, are + calculated to improve the sanitary condition of Edinburgh and its + immediate neighbourhood. + + ‘In one aspect this Association will be analogous to the Steam Boiler + Users’ Association, who co-operate in the employment of skilled + inspectors. In a second aspect it will be analogous to the + Association for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, which assists + the community in enforcing obedience to existing laws.’ + +Towards the end of November, 1877, this paper was handed about among +those who were thought most likely, from their position and public +spirit, to forward such a scheme, so clearly for the good of the +community. Nay more, a systematic ‘canvass’ was set on foot; personal +application the most direct was made use of. The thing was new, and its +advantages not perfectly obvious to all at a glance. Everyone who knows +with what enthusiastic earnestness Jenkin would take hold of, and insist +upon, what he felt to be wholesome and right will understand how he +persisted, how he patiently explained, and swept away objections that +were raised. One could not choose but listen, and understand, and agree. + +On the evening of 2nd January, 1878, or, to be more correct, the morning +of the 3rd, two old school-fellows of his at the Edinburgh Academy walked +home with him from an annual dinner of their ‘Class.’ All the way in +glowing language he expounded his views of house inspection, and the +protection of health, asking for sympathy. It was most readily given, +and they parted from him with pleasant words of banter regarding this +vision of his of grafting ‘cleanliness’ upon another quality said to be a +growth, in some sort, of this northern land of ours. + +But they reckoned hardly sufficiently on the fact that when Jenkin took a +thing of this kind in hand it must _be_; if it lay within the scope of a +clear head and boundless energy. + +Having secured a nucleus of well-wishers, the next step was to enlist the +sympathies of the general public. It was sought to effect this by a +series of public lectures. The first of these (one of two) was given on +22nd January under the auspices of the Edinburgh Philosophical +Institution. It was apparent to the shrewd lecturer that in bringing +before the people a scheme like this, where there was much that was +novel, it was necessary first of all that his audience should be aware of +the evils to which they were exposed in their own houses, before +unfolding a plan for a remedy. The correspondence already referred to as +having been carried on in the summer of the previous year had shown how +crude were the ideas of many persons well informed, or considered to be +so, on this subject. For example, there are few now-a-days who are not +aware that a drain, to be safe, must have at intervals along its course +openings to the upper air, or that it must be ‘ventilated,’ as the phrase +goes. But at the time spoken of there were some who went so far as to +question this principle; even to argue against it; calling forth this +forcible reply—’Here is a pretty farce. You pour out a poison and send +it off on its way to the sea, and forget that on its way there its very +essence will take wings and fly back into your house up the very pipes it +but recently ran down.’ A properly ‘trapped’ and ventilated drain was +the cure for this. + +And the lecturer proceeded to show that in Edinburgh, where for the most +part house construction is good and solid, but, as in other towns, the +bulk of the houses were built when the arrangements for internal sewerage +and water supply were very little understood, many serious errors were +made. ‘But,’ the lecturer went on to say, ‘Sanitary Science was now +established on a fairly sound basis, and the germ theory, or theory of +septic ferments, had explained much which used to be obscure. This +theory explained how it was that families might in certain cases live +with fair health for many years in the midst of great filth, while the +dwellers in large and apparently clean mansions were struck down by fever +and diphtheria. The filth which was found compatible with health was +always isolated filth, and until the germs of some specific disease were +introduced, this dirt was merely injurious, not poisonous. The mansions +which were apparently clean and yet fever-visited were found to be those +in which arrangements had been made for the removal of offensive matter, +which arrangements served also to distribute poison germs from one house +to another, from one room to another. These mansions had long suckers +extended from one to another through the common sewer. Through these +suckers, commonly called “house drains,” they imbibed every taint which +any one house in the system could supply. In fact, arrangements were too +often made which simply “laid on” poison to bed-rooms just as gas or +water was laid on. He had known an intelligent person declare that no +harm could come up a certain pipe which ended in a bed-room, because +nothing offensive went down. That person had never realised the fact +that his pipe joined another pipe, which again joined a sewer, which +again whenever there was an epidemic in the neighbourhood, received +innumerable poison germs; and that, although nothing more serious than +scented soap and water went down, the germs of typhoid fever might any +day come up.’ + +Professor Jenkin then proceeded to show how a house might be absolutely +cut off from all contamination from these sources of evil. Then by means +of large diagrams he showed the several systems of pipes within a house. +One system coloured _red_ showed the pipes that received foul matter. A +system marked in _blue_ showed pipes used to ventilate this red system. +The essential conditions of safety in the internal fittings of a house—it +was inculcated—were that no air to be breathed, no water to be drunk, +should ever be contaminated by connection with _red_ or _blue_ systems. +Then in _yellow_ were shown the pipes which received dirty water, which +was not necessarily foul. Lastly a _white_ system, which under no +circumstances must ever touch the ‘red,’ ‘blue,’ or ‘yellow’ systems. +Such a diagram recalled the complicated anatomical drawings which +illustrate the system of arteries and veins in the human frame. Little +wonder, then, that one gentleman remarked, in perplexity, that he had not +room in his house for such a mass of pipes; but they were already there, +with other pipes besides, all carefully hidden away, as in the human +tenement, with the inevitable result—as the preacher of cleanliness and +health declared—‘out of sight, out of mind.’ + +In plain and forcible language were demonstrated the ills this product of +modern life is heir to; and the drastic measures that most of them demand +to secure the reputation of a healthy house. Lastly the formation of an +Association to carry out the idea (already sketched) cheaply, was briefly +introduced. + +Next morning, January 23rd, was the moment chosen to lay the scheme +formally before the public. In all the Edinburgh newspapers, along with +lengthy reports of the lecture, appeared, in form of an advertisement, a +statement {295} of the scheme and its objects, supported by an imposing +array of ‘Provisional Council.’ In due course several of the Scots +newspapers and others, such as the _Building News_, gave leading +articles, all of them directing attention to this new thing, as ‘an +interesting experiment about to be tried in Edinburgh,’ ‘what promises to +be a very useful sanitary movement, now being organised, and an example +set that may be worthy of imitation elsewhere,’ and so on. + +Several of the writers waxed eloquent on the singular ingenuity of the +scheme; the cheap professional advice to its adherents, &c.; and the rare +advantages to be gained by means of co-operation and the traditional ‘one +pound one.’ + +The Provisional Council was absolutely representative of the community, +and included names more than sufficient to inspire confidence. It +included the Lord-Lieutenant of the county, Lord Rosebery; the Lord +Justice Clerk, Lord Moncrieff; the Lord Advocate; Sir Robert Christison; +several of the Judges of the Court of Session; the Presidents of the +Colleges of Physicians, and of Surgeons; many of the Professors of the +University; the Bishop of Edinburgh, and the Dean; several of the best +known of the Clergy of the Church of Scotland, Established, Free, and of +other branches; one or two members of Parliament; more than one lady (who +should have been perhaps mentioned earlier on this list) well known for +large views and public spirit; several well-known country gentlemen; one +or two distinguished civil engineers and architects; and many gentlemen +of repute for intelligence and business qualities. + +Very soon after the second of the promised lectures, the members of the +new Society began to be numbered by hundreds. By the 28th of February, +500 subscribers having been enrolled, they were in a position to hold +their first regular meeting under the presidency of Sir Robert +Christison, when a permanent Council composed of many of those who had +from the first shown an interest in the movement—for example, Professor +(now Sir Douglas) Maclagan and Lord Dean of Guild (now Sir James) Gowans, +Professor Jenkin himself undertaking the duties of Consulting +Engineer—were appointed. And Jenkin was singularly fortunate in securing +as Secretary the late Captain Charles Douglas, a worker as earnest as +himself. It was the theory of the originator that the Council, composed +of leading men not necessarily possessed of engineering knowledge, should +‘give a guarantee to the members that the officials employed should have +been carefully selected, and themselves work under supervision. Every +householder in this town,’ he adds, ‘knows the names of the gentlemen +composing our Council.’ + +The new Association was a success alike in town and country. Without +going far into statistics it will be evident what scope there was, and +is, for such operations when it is stated that last year (1885) 60 per +cent. of the houses inspected in London and its neighbourhood were found +to have foul air escaping direct into them, and 81 per cent. had their +sanitary appliances in an unsatisfactory state. Here in Edinburgh things +were little, if any, better; as for the country houses, the descriptions +of some were simply appalling. As the new Association continued its +operations it became the _rôle_ of the Consulting Engineer to note such +objections, hypothetical or real, as were raised against the working of +his scheme. Some of these were ingenious enough: but all were replied to +in order, and satisfactorily resolved. It was shown, for example, that +‘you might have a dinner party in your house on the day of your +inspection’; that the Association worked in the utmost harmony with the +city authorities, and with the tradesmen usually employed in such +business; and that the officials were as ‘confidential’ as regards the +infirmities of a house as any physician consulted by a patient. The +strength of the engineering staff has been varied from time to time as +occasion required; at the moment of writing employment is found in +Edinburgh and country districts in various parts of Scotland for five +engineers temporarily or permanently engaged. + +The position Jenkin claimed for the Engineers was a high one, but not too +high: thus he well defined it:— + + ‘In respect of Domestic Sanitation the business of the Engineer and + that of the medical man overlap; for while it is the duty of the + engineer to learn from the doctor what conditions are necessary to + secure health, the engineer may, nevertheless, claim in his turn the + privilege of assisting in the warfare against disease by using his + professional skill to determine what mechanical and constructive + arrangements are best adapted to secure these conditions.’ {299} + +Flattery in the form of imitation followed in due course. A branch was +established at St. Andrews, and one of the earliest of similar +institutions was founded at Newport in the United States. Another sprang +up at Wolverhampton. In 1881 two such societies were announced as having +been set on foot in London. And the _Times_ of April 14th, in a leading +article of some length, drew attention to the special features of the +plan which it was stated had followed close upon a paper read by +Professor Fleeming Jenkin before the Society of Arts in the preceding +month of January. The adherents included such names as those of Sir +William Gull, Professor Huxley, Professor Burdon Sanderson, and Sir +Joseph Fayrer. The _Saturday Review_, in January, had already in a +characteristic article enforced the principles of the scheme, and shown +how, for a small annual payment, ‘the helpless and hopeless condition of +the householder at the mercy of the plumber’ might be for ever changed. + +The London Association, established on the lines of the parent society, +has been followed by many others year by year; amongst these are +Bradford, Cheltenham, Glasgow, and Liverpool in 1882; Bedford, Brighton, +and Newcastle in 1883; Bath, Cambridge, Cardiff, Dublin, and Dundee in +1884; and Swansea in 1885; and while we write the first steps are being +taken, with help from Edinburgh, to establish an association at Montreal; +sixteen Associations. + +Almost, it may be said, a bibliography has been achieved for Fleeming +Jenkin’s movement. + +In 1878 was published _Healthy Houses_ (Edin., David Douglas), being the +substance of the two lectures already mentioned as having been delivered +in Edinburgh with the intention of laying open the idea of the scheme +then in contemplation, with a third addressed to the Medico-Chirurgical +Society. This book has been long out of print, and such has been the +demand for it that the American edition {300} is understood to be also +out of print, and unobtainable. + +In 1880 was printed (London, Spottiswoode & Co.) a pamphlet entitled +_What is the Best Mode of Amending the Present Laws with Reference to +Existing Buildings_, _and also of Improving their Sanitary Condition with +due Regard to Economical Considerations_?—the substance of a paper read +by Professor Jenkin at the Congress of the Social Science Association at +Edinburgh in October of that year. + +The first item of _Health Lectures for the People_ (Edin., 1881) consists +of a discourse on the ‘Care of the Body’ delivered by Professor Jenkin in +the Watt Institution at Edinburgh, in which the theories of house +sanitation are dwelt on. + +_House Inspection_, reprinted from the _Sanitary Record_, was issued in +pamphlet form in 1882. And another small tract, _Houses of the Poor_; +_their Sanitary Arrangement_, in 1885. + +In this connection it may be said that while the idea formulated by +Jenkin has been carried out with a measure of success that could hardly +have been foreseen, in one point only, it may be noted, has expectation +been somewhat disappointed as regards the good that these Associations +should have effected—and the fact was constantly deplored by the +founder—namely, the comparative failure as a means of improving the +condition of the dwellings of the poorer classes. It was ‘hoped that +charity and public spirit would have used the Association to obtain +reports on poor tenements, and to remedy the most glaring evils.’ {301} + +The good that these associations have effected is not to be estimated by +the numbers of their membership. They have educated the public on +certain points. The fact that they exist has become generally known, +and, by consequence, persons of all classes are induced to satisfy +themselves of the reasons for the existence of such institutions, and +thus they learn of the evils that have called them into being. + +Builders, burgh engineers, and private individuals in any way connected +with the construction of dwellings in town or country have been put upon +their mettle, and constrained to keep themselves abreast with the +wholesome truths which the engineering staff of all these Sanitary +Associations are the means of disseminating. + +In this way, doubtless, some good may indirectly have been done to poorer +tenements, though not exactly in the manner contemplated by the founder. + +Now, if it be true that Providence helps those who help themselves, +surely a debt of gratitude is due to him who has placed (as has been +attempted to be shown in this brief narrative) the means of self-help and +the attainment of a palpable benefit within the reach of all through the +working of a simple plan, whose motto well may be, ‘Healthy Houses’; and +device a strangled snake. + + A. F. + + + + +FOOTNOTES + + +{113} _Reminiscences of My Later Life_, by Mary Howitt, _Good Words_, +May 1886. + +{288} See paper read at the Congress of the Social Science Association, +Edinburgh, October 8, 1880. + +{290} It was ultimately agreed not to appoint an officer of this kind +till occasion should arise for his services; none has been appointed. + +{295} Briefly stated, the points submitted in this prospectus were +these: + +1. That the proposed Association was a Society for the benefit of its +members and the community that cannot be used for any purposes of profit. + +2. The privileges of members include the annual inspection of their +premises, as well as a preliminary report on their condition with an +estimate of the cost of any alterations recommended. + +3. The skilled inspection from time to time of drains and all sanitary +arrangements. + +4. No obligation on the part of members to carry out any of the +suggestions made by the engineers of the Association, who merely give +skilled advice when such is desired. + +5. The officers of the Association to have no interest in any outlay +recommended. + +6. The Association might be of great service to the poorer members of +the community. + +{299} _Healthy Houses_, by Professor Fleeming Jenkin, p. 54. + +{300} It is perhaps worth mentioning as a curiosity of literature that +the American publishers who produced this book in the States, without +consulting the author, afterwards sent him a handsome cheque, of course +unsolicited by him. + +{301} It is true, handsome tenements for working people have been built, +such as the picturesque group of houses erected with this object by a +member of the Council of the Edinburgh Sanitary Association, at Bell’s +Mills, so well seen from the Dean Bridge, where every appliance that +science can suggest has been made use of. But for the ordinary houses of +the poor the advice of the Association’s engineers has been but rarely +taken advantage of. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIR OF FLEEMING JENKIN*** + + +******* This file should be named 698-0.txt or 698-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/9/698 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin + + +Author: Robert Louis Stevenson + + + +Release Date: September 14, 2012 [eBook #698] +[This file was first posted on October 25, 1996] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIR OF FLEEMING JENKIN*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1901 Charles Scribner’s Sons +edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<h1>MEMOIR<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">OF</span><br /> +FLEEMING JENKIN</h1> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">BY</span><br +/> +ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">NEW +YORK</span><br /> +CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS<br /> +1901</p> +<h2>PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> the death of Fleeming Jenkin, +his family and friends determined to publish a selection of his +various papers; by way of introduction, the following pages were +drawn up; and the whole, forming two considerable volumes, has +been issued in England. In the States, it has not been +thought advisable to reproduce the whole; and the memoir +appearing alone, shorn of that other matter which was at once its +occasion and its justification, so large an account of a man so +little known may seem to a stranger out of all proportion. +But Jenkin was a man much more remarkable than the mere bulk or +merit of his work approves him. It was in the world, in the +commerce of friendship, by his brave attitude towards life, by +his high moral value and unwearied intellectual effort, that he +struck the minds of his contemporaries. His was an +individual figure, such as authors delight to draw, and all men +to read of, in the pages of a novel. His was a face worth +painting for its own sake. If the sitter shall not seem to +have justified the portrait, if Jenkin, after his death, shall +not continue to make new friends, the fault will be altogether +mine.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">R. L S.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Saranac</span>, <i>Oct.</i>, 1887.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">The Jenkins of Stowting—Fleeming’s +grandfather—Mrs. Buckner’s +fortune—Fleeming’s father; goes to sea; at St. +Helena; meets King Tom; service in the West Indies; end of his +career—The Campbell-Jacksons—Fleeming’s +mother—Fleeming’s uncle John.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the reign of Henry VIII., a +family of the name of Jenkin, claiming to come from York, and +bearing the arms of Jenkin ap Philip of St. Melans, are found +reputably settled in the county of Kent. Persons of strong +genealogical pinion pass from William Jenkin, Mayor of Folkestone +in 1555, to his contemporary ‘John Jenkin, of the Citie of +York, Receiver General of the County,’ and thence, by way +of Jenkin ap Philip, to the proper summit of any Cambrian +pedigree—a prince; ‘Guaith Voeth, Lord of +Cardigan,’ the name and style of him. It may suffice, +however, for the present, that these Kentish Jenkins must have +undoubtedly derived from Wales, and being a stock of some +efficiency, they struck root and grew to wealth and consequence +in their new home.</p> +<p>Of their consequence we have proof enough in the fact that not +only was William Jenkin (as already mentioned) Mayor of +Folkestone in 1555, but no less than twenty-three times in the +succeeding century and a half, a Jenkin (William, Thomas, Henry, +or Robert) sat in the same place of humble honour. Of their +wealth we know that in the reign of Charles I., Thomas Jenkin of +Eythorne was more than once in the market buying land, and +notably, in 1633, acquired the manor of Stowting Court. +This was an estate of some 320 acres, six miles from Hythe, in +the Bailiwick and Hundred of Stowting, and the Lathe of Shipway, +held of the Crown <i>in capite</i> by the service of six men and +a constable to defend the passage of the sea at Sandgate. +It had a chequered history before it fell into the hands of +Thomas of Eythorne, having been sold and given from one to +another—to the Archbishop, to Heringods, to the +Burghershes, to Pavelys, Trivets, Cliffords, Wenlocks, +Beauchamps, Nevilles, Kempes, and Clarkes: a piece of Kentish +ground condemned to see new faces and to be no man’s +home. But from 1633 onward it became the anchor of the +Jenkin family in Kent; and though passed on from brother to +brother, held in shares between uncle and nephew, burthened by +debts and jointures, and at least once sold and bought in again, +it remains to this day in the hands of the direct line. It +is not my design, nor have I the necessary knowledge, to give a +history of this obscure family. But this is an age when +genealogy has taken a new lease of life, and become for the first +time a human science; so that we no longer study it in quest of +the Guaith Voeths, but to trace out some of the secrets of +descent and destiny; and as we study, we think less of Sir +Bernard Burke and more of Mr. Galton. Not only do our +character and talents lie upon the anvil and receive their temper +during generations; but the very plot of our life’s story +unfolds itself on a scale of centuries, and the biography of the +man is only an episode in the epic of the family. From this +point of view I ask the reader’s leave to begin this notice +of a remarkable man who was my friend, with the accession of his +great-grandfather, John Jenkin.</p> +<p>This John Jenkin, a grandson of Damaris Kingsley, of the +family of ‘Westward Ho!’ was born in 1727, and +married Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas Frewen, of Church House, +Northiam. The Jenkins had now been long enough +intermarrying with their Kentish neighbours to be Kentish folk +themselves in all but name; and with the Frewens in particular +their connection is singularly involved. John and his wife +were each descended in the third degree from another Thomas +Frewen, Vicar of Northiam, and brother to Accepted Frewen, +Archbishop of York. John’s mother had married a +Frewen for a second husband. And the last complication was +to be added by the Bishop of Chichester’s brother, Charles +Buckner, Vice-Admiral of the White, who was twice married, first +to a paternal cousin of Squire John, and second to Anne, only +sister of the Squire’s wife, and already the widow of +another Frewen. The reader must bear Mrs. Buckner in mind; +it was by means of that lady that Fleeming Jenkin began life as a +poor man. Meanwhile, the relationship of any Frewen to any +Jenkin at the end of these evolutions presents a problem almost +insoluble; and we need not wonder if Mrs. John, thus exercised in +her immediate circle, was in her old age ‘a great +genealogist of all Sussex families, and much +consulted.’ The names Frewen and Jenkin may almost +seem to have been interchangeable at will; and yet Fate proceeds +with such particularity that it was perhaps on the point of name +that the family was ruined.</p> +<p>The John Jenkins had a family of one daughter and five +extravagant and unpractical sons. The eldest, Stephen, +entered the Church and held the living of Salehurst, where he +offered, we may hope, an extreme example of the clergy of the +age. He was a handsome figure of a man; jovial and jocular; +fond of his garden, which produced under his care the finest +fruits of the neighbourhood; and like all the family, very choice +in horses. He drove tandem; like Jehu, furiously. His +saddle horse, Captain (for the names of horses are piously +preserved in the family chronicle which I follow), was trained to +break into a gallop as soon as the vicar’s foot was thrown +across its back; nor would the rein be drawn in the nine miles +between Northiam and the Vicarage door. Debt was the +man’s proper element; he used to skulk from arrest in the +chancel of his church; and the speed of Captain may have come +sometimes handy. At an early age this unconventional parson +married his cook, and by her he had two daughters and one +son. One of the daughters died unmarried; the other +imitated her father, and married ‘imprudently.’ +The son, still more gallantly continuing the tradition, entered +the army, loaded himself with debt, was forced to sell out, took +refuge in the Marines, and was lost on the Dogger Bank in the +war-ship <i>Minotaur</i>. If he did not marry below him, +like his father, his sister, and a certain great-uncle William, +it was perhaps because he never married at all.</p> +<p>The second brother, Thomas, who was employed in the General +Post-Office, followed in all material points the example of +Stephen, married ‘not very creditably,’ and spent all +the money he could lay his hands on. He died without issue; +as did the fourth brother, John, who was of weak intellect and +feeble health, and the fifth brother, William, whose brief career +as one of Mrs. Buckner’s satellites will fall to be +considered later on. So soon, then, as the <i>Minotaur</i> +had struck upon the Dogger Bank, Stowting and the line of the +Jenkin family fell on the shoulders of the third brother, +Charles.</p> +<p>Facility and self-indulgence are the family marks; facility +(to judge by these imprudent marriages) being at once their +quality and their defect; but in the case of Charles, a man of +exceptional beauty and sweetness both of face and disposition, +the family fault had quite grown to be a virtue, and we find him +in consequence the drudge and milk-cow of his relatives. +Born in 1766, Charles served at sea in his youth, and smelt both +salt water and powder. The Jenkins had inclined hitherto, +as far as I can make out, to the land service. +Stephen’s son had been a soldier; William (fourth of +Stowting) had been an officer of the unhappy Braddock’s in +America, where, by the way, he owned and afterwards sold an +estate on the James River, called, after the parental seat; of +which I should like well to hear if it still bears the +name. It was probably by the influence of Captain Buckner, +already connected with the family by his first marriage, that +Charles Jenkin turned his mind in the direction of the navy; and +it was in Buckner’s own ship, the <i>Prothée</i>, +64, that the lad made his only campaign. It was in the days +of Rodney’s war, when the <i>Prothée</i>, we read, +captured two large privateers to windward of Barbadoes, and was +‘materially and distinguishedly engaged’ in both the +actions with De Grasse. While at sea Charles kept a +journal, and made strange archaic pilot-book sketches, part plan, +part elevation, some of which survive for the amusement of +posterity. He did a good deal of surveying, so that here we +may perhaps lay our finger on the beginning of Fleeming’s +education as an engineer. What is still more strange, among +the relics of the handsome midshipman and his stay in the +gun-room of the <i>Prothée</i>, I find a code of signals +graphically represented, for all the world as it would have been +done by his grandson.</p> +<p>On the declaration of peace, Charles, because he had suffered +from scurvy, received his mother’s orders to retire; and he +was not the man to refuse a request, far less to disobey a +command. Thereupon he turned farmer, a trade he was to +practice on a large scale; and we find him married to a Miss +Schirr, a woman of some fortune, the daughter of a London +merchant. Stephen, the not very reverend, was still alive, +galloping about the country or skulking in his chancel. It +does not appear whether he let or sold the paternal manor to +Charles; one or other, it must have been; and the sailor-farmer +settled at Stowting, with his wife, his mother, his unmarried +sister, and his sick brother John. Out of the six people of +whom his nearest family consisted, three were in his own house, +and two others (the horse-leeches, Stephen and Thomas) he appears +to have continued to assist with more amiability than +wisdom. He hunted, belonged to the Yeomanry, owned famous +horses, Maggie and Lucy, the latter coveted by royalty +itself. ‘Lord Rokeby, his neighbour, called him +kinsman,’ writes my artless chronicler, ‘and +altogether life was very cheery.’ At Stowting his +three sons, John, Charles, and Thomas Frewen, and his younger +daughter, Anna, were all born to him; and the reader should here +be told that it is through the report of this second Charles +(born 1801) that he has been looking on at these confused +passages of family history.</p> +<p>In the year 1805 the ruin of the Jenkins was begun. It +was the work of a fallacious lady already mentioned, Aunt Anne +Frewen, a sister of Mrs. John. Twice married, first to her +cousin Charles Frewen, clerk to the Court of Chancery, Brunswick +Herald, and Usher of the Black Rod, and secondly to Admiral +Buckner, she was denied issue in both beds, and being very +rich—she died worth about 60,000<i>l.</i>, mostly in +land—she was in perpetual quest of an heir. The +mirage of this fortune hung before successive members of the +Jenkin family until her death in 1825, when it dissolved and left +the latest Alnaschar face to face with bankruptcy. The +grandniece, Stephen’s daughter, the one who had not +‘married imprudently,’ appears to have been the +first; for she was taken abroad by the golden aunt, and died in +her care at Ghent in 1792. Next she adopted William, the +youngest of the five nephews; took him abroad with her—it +seems as if that were in the formula; was shut up with him in +Paris by the Revolution; brought him back to Windsor, and got him +a place in the King’s Body-Guard, where he attracted the +notice of George III. by his proficiency in German. In +1797, being on guard at St. James’s Palace, William took a +cold which carried him off; and Aunt Anne was once more left +heirless. Lastly, in 1805, perhaps moved by the Admiral, +who had a kindness for his old midshipman, perhaps pleased by the +good looks and the good nature of the man himself, Mrs. Buckner +turned her eyes upon Charles Jenkin. He was not only to be +the heir, however, he was to be the chief hand in a somewhat wild +scheme of family farming. Mrs. Jenkin, the mother, +contributed 164 acres of land; Mrs. Buckner, 570, some at +Northiam, some farther off; Charles let one-half of Stowting to a +tenant, and threw the other and various scattered parcels into +the common enterprise; so that the whole farm amounted to near +upon a thousand acres, and was scattered over thirty miles of +country. The ex-seaman of thirty-nine, on whose wisdom and +ubiquity the scheme depended, was to live in the meanwhile +without care or fear. He was to check himself in nothing; +his two extravagances, valuable horses and worthless brothers, +were to be indulged in comfort; and whether the year quite paid +itself or not, whether successive years left accumulated savings +or only a growing deficit, the fortune of the golden aunt should +in the end repair all.</p> +<p>On this understanding Charles Jenkin transported his family to +Church House, Northiam: Charles the second, then a child of +three, among the number. Through the eyes of the boy we +have glimpses of the life that followed: of Admiral and Mrs. +Buckner driving up from Windsor in a coach and six, two +post-horses and their own four; of the house full of visitors, +the great roasts at the fire, the tables in the servants’ +hall laid for thirty or forty for a month together; of the daily +press of neighbours, many of whom, Frewens, Lords, Bishops, +Batchellors, and Dynes, were also kinsfolk; and the parties +‘under the great spreading chestnuts of the old fore +court,’ where the young people danced and made merry to the +music of the village band. Or perhaps, in the depth of +winter, the father would bid young Charles saddle his pony; they +would ride the thirty miles from Northiam to Stowting, with the +snow to the pony’s saddle girths, and be received by the +tenants like princes.</p> +<p>This life of delights, with the continual visible comings and +goings of the golden aunt, was well qualified to relax the fibre +of the lads. John, the heir, a yeoman and a fox-hunter, +‘loud and notorious with his whip and spurs,’ settled +down into a kind of Tony Lumpkin, waiting for the shoes of his +father and his aunt. Thomas Frewen, the youngest, is +briefly dismissed as ‘a handsome beau’; but he had +the merit or the good fortune to become a doctor of medicine, so +that when the crash came he was not empty-handed for the war of +life. Charles, at the day-school of Northiam, grew so well +acquainted with the rod, that his floggings became matter of +pleasantry and reached the ears of Admiral Buckner. +Hereupon that tall, rough-voiced, formidable uncle entered with +the lad into a covenant: every time that Charles was thrashed he +was to pay the Admiral a penny; everyday that he escaped, the +process was to be reversed. ‘I recollect,’ +writes Charles, ‘going crying to my mother to be taken to +the Admiral to pay my debt.’ It would seem by these +terms the speculation was a losing one; yet it is probable it +paid indirectly by bringing the boy under remark. The +Admiral was no enemy to dunces; he loved courage, and Charles, +while yet little more than a baby, would ride the great horse +into the pond. Presently it was decided that here was the +stuff of a fine sailor; and at an early period the name of +Charles Jenkin was entered on a ship’s books.</p> +<p>From Northiam he was sent to another school at Boonshill, near +Rye, where the master took ‘infinite delight’ in +strapping him. ‘It keeps me warm and makes you +grow,’ he used to say. And the stripes were not +altogether wasted, for the dunce, though still very +‘raw,’ made progress with his studies. It was +known, moreover, that he was going to sea, always a ground of +pre-eminence with schoolboys; and in his case the glory was not +altogether future, it wore a present form when he came driving to +Rye behind four horses in the same carriage with an +admiral. ‘I was not a little proud, you may +believe,’ says he.</p> +<p>In 1814, when he was thirteen years of age, he was carried by +his father to Chichester to the Bishop’s Palace. The +Bishop had heard from his brother the Admiral that Charles was +likely to do well, and had an order from Lord Melville for the +lad’s admission to the Royal Naval College at +Portsmouth. Both the Bishop and the Admiral patted him on +the head and said, ‘Charles will restore the old +family’; by which I gather with some surprise that, even in +these days of open house at Northiam and golden hope of my +aunt’s fortune, the family was supposed to stand in need of +restoration. But the past is apt to look brighter than +nature, above all to those enamoured of their genealogy; and the +ravages of Stephen and Thomas must have always given matter of +alarm.</p> +<p>What with the flattery of bishops and admirals, the fine +company in which he found himself at Portsmouth, his visits home, +with their gaiety and greatness of life, his visits to Mrs. +Buckner (soon a widow) at Windsor, where he had a pony kept for +him, and visited at Lord Melville’s and Lord +Harcourt’s and the Leveson-Gowers, he began to have +‘bumptious notions,’ and his head was ‘somewhat +turned with fine people’; as to some extent it remained +throughout his innocent and honourable life.</p> +<p>In this frame of mind the boy was appointed to the +<i>Conqueror</i>, Captain Davie, humorously known as Gentle +Johnnie. The captain had earned this name by his style of +discipline, which would have figured well in the pages of +Marryat: ‘Put the prisoner’s head in a bag and give +him another dozen!’ survives as a specimen of his commands; +and the men were often punished twice or thrice in a week. +On board the ship of this disciplinarian, Charles and his father +were carried in a billy-boat from Sheerness in December, 1816: +Charles with an outfit suitable to his pretensions, a +twenty-guinea sextant and 120 dollars in silver, which were +ordered into the care of the gunner. ‘The old clerks +and mates,’ he writes, ‘used to laugh and jeer me for +joining the ship in a billy-boat, and when they found I was from +Kent, vowed I was an old Kentish smuggler. This to my +pride, you will believe, was not a little offensive.’</p> +<p>The <i>Conqueror</i> carried the flag of Vice-Admiral Plampin, +commanding at the Cape and St. Helena; and at that all-important +islet, in July, 1817, she relieved the flagship of Sir Pulteney +Malcolm. Thus it befel that Charles Jenkin, coming too late +for the epic of the French wars, played a small part in the +dreary and disgraceful afterpiece of St. Helena. Life on +the guard-ship was onerous and irksome. The anchor was +never lifted, sail never made, the great guns were silent; none +was allowed on shore except on duty; all day the movements of the +imperial captive were signalled to and fro; all night the boats +rowed guard around the accessible portions of the coast. +This prolonged stagnation and petty watchfulness in what Napoleon +himself called that ‘unchristian’ climate, told +cruelly on the health of the ship’s company. In +eighteen months, according to O’Meara, the <i>Conqueror</i> +had lost one hundred and ten men and invalided home one hundred +and seven, being more than a third of her complement. It +does not seem that our young midshipman so much as once set eyes +on Bonaparte; and yet in other ways Jenkin was more fortunate +than some of his comrades. He drew in water-colour; not so +badly as his father, yet ill enough; and this art was so rare +aboard the <i>Conqueror</i> that even his humble proficiency +marked him out and procured him some alleviations. Admiral +Plampin had succeeded Napoleon at the Briars; and here he had +young Jenkin staying with him to make sketches of the historic +house. One of these is before me as I write, and gives a +strange notion of the arts in our old English Navy. Yet it +was again as an artist that the lad was taken for a run to Rio, +and apparently for a second outing in a ten-gun brig. +These, and a cruise of six weeks to windward of the island +undertaken by the <i>Conqueror</i> herself in quest of health, +were the only breaks in three years of murderous inaction; and at +the end of that period Jenkin was invalided home, having +‘lost his health entirely.’</p> +<p>As he left the deck of the guard-ship the historic part of his +career came to an end. For forty-two years he continued to +serve his country obscurely on the seas, sometimes thanked for +inconspicuous and honourable services, but denied any opportunity +of serious distinction. He was first two years in the +<i>Larne</i>, Captain Tait, hunting pirates and keeping a watch +on the Turkish and Greek squadrons in the Archipelago. +Captain Tait was a favourite with Sir Thomas Maitland, High +Commissioner of the Ionian Islands—King Tom as he was +called—who frequently took passage in the +<i>Larne</i>. King Tom knew every inch of the +Mediterranean, and was a terror to the officers of the +watch. He would come on deck at night; and with his broad +Scotch accent, ‘Well, sir,’ he would say, ‘what +depth of water have ye? Well now, sound; and ye’ll +just find so or so many fathoms,’ as the case might be; and +the obnoxious passenger was generally right. On one +occasion, as the ship was going into Corfu, Sir Thomas came up +the hatchway and cast his eyes towards the gallows. +‘Bangham’—Charles Jenkin heard him say to his +aide-de-camp, Lord Bangham—‘where the devil is that +other chap? I left four fellows hanging there; now I can +only see three. Mind there is another there +to-morrow.’ And sure enough there was another Greek +dangling the next day. ‘Captain Hamilton, of the +<i>Cambrian</i>, kept the Greeks in order afloat,’ writes +my author, ‘and King Tom ashore.’</p> +<p>From 1823 onward, the chief scene of Charles Jenkin’s +activities was in the West Indies, where he was engaged off and +on till 1844, now as a subaltern, now in a vessel of his own, +hunting out pirates, ‘then very notorious’ in the +Leeward Islands, cruising after slavers, or carrying dollars and +provisions for the Government. While yet a midshipman, he +accompanied Mr. Cockburn to Caraccas and had a sight of +Bolivar. In the brigantine <i>Griffon</i>, which he +commanded in his last years in the West Indies, he carried aid to +Guadeloupe after the earthquake, and twice earned the thanks of +Government: once for an expedition to Nicaragua to extort, under +threat of a blockade, proper apologies and a sum of money due to +certain British merchants; and once during an insurrection in San +Domingo, for the rescue of certain others from a perilous +imprisonment and the recovery of a ‘chest of money’ +of which they had been robbed. Once, on the other hand, he +earned his share of public censure. This was in 1837, when +he commanded the <i>Romney</i> lying in the inner harbour of +Havannah. The <i>Romney</i> was in no proper sense a +man-of-war; she was a slave-hulk, the bonded warehouse of the +Mixed Slave Commission; where negroes, captured out of slavers +under Spanish colours, were detained provisionally, till the +Commission should decide upon their case and either set them free +or bind them to apprenticeship. To this ship, already an +eye-sore to the authorities, a Cuban slave made his escape. +The position was invidious; on one side were the tradition of the +British flag and the state of public sentiment at home; on the +other, the certainty that if the slave were kept, the +<i>Romney</i> would be ordered at once out of the harbour, and +the object of the Mixed Commission compromised. Without +consultation with any other officer, Captain Jenkin (then +lieutenant) returned the man to shore and took the +Captain-General’s receipt. Lord Palmerston approved +his course; but the zealots of the anti-slave trade movement +(never to be named without respect) were much dissatisfied; and +thirty-nine years later, the matter was again canvassed in +Parliament, and Lord Palmerston and Captain Jenkin defended by +Admiral Erskine in a letter to the <i>Times</i> (March 13, +1876).</p> +<p>In 1845, while still lieutenant, Charles Jenkin acted as +Admiral Pigot’s flag captain in the Cove of Cork, where +there were some thirty pennants; and about the same time, closed +his career by an act of personal bravery. He had proceeded +with his boats to the help of a merchant vessel, whose cargo of +combustibles had taken fire and was smouldering under hatches; +his sailors were in the hold, where the fumes were already heavy, +and Jenkin was on deck directing operations, when he found his +orders were no longer answered from below: he jumped down without +hesitation and slung up several insensible men with his own +hand. For this act, he received a letter from the Lords of +the Admiralty expressing a sense of his gallantry; and pretty +soon after was promoted Commander, superseded, and could never +again obtain employment.</p> +<p>In 1828 or 1829, Charles Jenkin was in the same watch with +another midshipman, Robert Colin Campbell Jackson, who introduced +him to his family in Jamaica. The father, the Honourable +Robert Jackson, Custos Rotulorum of Kingston, came of a Yorkshire +family, said to be originally Scotch; and on the mother’s +side, counted kinship with some of the Forbeses. The mother +was Susan Campbell, one of the Campbells of Auchenbreck. +Her father Colin, a merchant in Greenock, is said to have been +the heir to both the estate and the baronetcy; he claimed +neither, which casts a doubt upon the fact, but he had pride +enough himself, and taught enough pride to his family, for any +station or descent in Christendom. He had four +daughters. One married an Edinburgh writer, as I have it on +a first account—a minister, according to another—a +man at least of reasonable station, but not good enough for the +Campbells of Auchenbreck; and the erring one was instantly +discarded. Another married an actor of the name of Adcock, +whom (as I receive the tale) she had seen acting in a barn; but +the phrase should perhaps be regarded rather as a measure of the +family annoyance, than a mirror of the facts. The marriage +was not in itself unhappy; Adcock was a gentleman by birth and +made a good husband; the family reasonably prospered, and one of +the daughters married no less a man than Clarkson +Stanfield. But by the father, and the two remaining Miss +Campbells, people of fierce passions and a truly Highland pride, +the derogation was bitterly resented. For long the sisters +lived estranged then, Mrs. Jackson and Mrs. Adcock were +reconciled for a moment, only to quarrel the more fiercely; the +name of Mrs. Adcock was proscribed, nor did it again pass her +sister’s lips, until the morning when she announced: +‘Mary Adcock is dead; I saw her in her shroud last +night.’ Second sight was hereditary in the house; and +sure enough, as I have it reported, on that very night Mrs. +Adcock had passed away. Thus, of the four daughters, two +had, according to the idiotic notions of their friends, disgraced +themselves in marriage; the others supported the honour of the +family with a better grace, and married West Indian magnates of +whom, I believe, the world has never heard and would not care to +hear: So strange a thing is this hereditary pride. Of Mr. +Jackson, beyond the fact that he was Fleeming’s +grandfather, I know naught. His wife, as I have said, was a +woman of fierce passions; she would tie her house slaves to the +bed and lash them with her own hand; and her conduct to her wild +and down-going sons, was a mixture of almost insane +self-sacrifice and wholly insane violence of temper. She +had three sons and one daughter. Two of the sons went +utterly to ruin, and reduced their mother to poverty. The +third went to India, a slim, delicate lad, and passed so wholly +from the knowledge of his relatives that he was thought to be +long dead. Years later, when his sister was living in +Genoa, a red-bearded man of great strength and stature, tanned by +years in India, and his hands covered with barbaric gems, entered +the room unannounced, as she was playing the piano, lifted her +from her seat, and kissed her. It was her brother, suddenly +returned out of a past that was never very clearly understood, +with the rank of general, many strange gems, many cloudy stories +of adventure, and next his heart, the daguerreotype of an Indian +prince with whom he had mixed blood.</p> +<p>The last of this wild family, the daughter, Henrietta Camilla, +became the wife of the midshipman Charles, and the mother of the +subject of this notice, Fleeming Jenkin. She was a woman of +parts and courage. Not beautiful, she had a far higher +gift, the art of seeming so; played the part of a belle in +society, while far lovelier women were left unattended; and up to +old age had much of both the exigency and the charm that mark +that character. She drew naturally, for she had no +training, with unusual skill; and it was from her, and not from +the two naval artists, that Fleeming inherited his eye and +hand. She played on the harp and sang with something beyond +the talent of an amateur. At the age of seventeen, she +heard Pasta in Paris; flew up in a fire of youthful enthusiasm; +and the next morning, all alone and without introduction, found +her way into the presence of the <i>prima donna</i> and begged +for lessons. Pasta made her sing, kissed her when she had +done, and though she refused to be her mistress, placed her in +the hands of a friend. Nor was this all, for when Pasta +returned to Paris, she sent for the girl (once at least) to test +her progress. But Mrs. Jenkin’s talents were not so +remarkable as her fortitude and strength of will; and it was in +an art for which she had no natural taste (the art of literature) +that she appeared before the public. Her novels, though +they attained and merited a certain popularity both in France and +England, are a measure only of her courage. They were a +task, not a beloved task; they were written for money in days of +poverty, and they served their end. In the least thing as +well as in the greatest, in every province of life as well as in +her novels, she displayed the same capacity of taking infinite +pains, which descended to her son. When she was about forty +(as near as her age was known) she lost her voice; set herself at +once to learn the piano, working eight hours a day; and attained +to such proficiency that her collaboration in chamber music was +courted by professionals. And more than twenty years later, +the old lady might have been seen dauntlessly beginning the study +of Hebrew. This is the more ethereal part of courage; nor +was she wanting in the more material. Once when a +neighbouring groom, a married man, had seduced her maid, Mrs. +Jenkin mounted her horse, rode over to the stable entrance and +horsewhipped the man with her own hand.</p> +<p>How a match came about between this talented and spirited girl +and the young midshipman, is not very I easy to conceive. +Charles Jenkin was one of the finest creatures breathing; +loyalty, devotion, simple natural piety, boyish cheerfulness, +tender and manly sentiment in the old sailor fashion, were in him +inherent and inextinguishable either by age, suffering, or +injustice. He looked, as he was, every inch a gentleman; he +must have been everywhere notable, even among handsome men, both +for his face and his gallant bearing; not so much that of a +sailor, you would have said, as like one of those gentle and +graceful soldiers that, to this day, are the most pleasant of +Englishmen to see. But though he was in these ways noble, +the dunce scholar of Northiam was to the end no genius. +Upon all points that a man must understand to be a gentleman, to +be upright, gallant, affectionate and dead to self, Captain +Jenkin was more knowing than one among a thousand; outside of +that, his mind was very largely blank. He had indeed a +simplicity that came near to vacancy; and in the first forty +years of his married life, this want grew more accentuated. +In both families imprudent marriages had been the rule; but +neither Jenkin nor Campbell had ever entered into a more unequal +union. It was the captain’s good looks, we may +suppose, that gained for him this elevation; and in some ways and +for many years of his life, he had to pay the penalty. His +wife, impatient of his incapacity and surrounded by brilliant +friends, used him with a certain contempt. She was the +managing partner; the life was hers, not his; after his +retirement they lived much abroad, where the poor captain, who +could never learn any language but his own, sat in the corner +mumchance; and even his son, carried away by his bright mother, +did not recognise for long the treasures of simple chivalry that +lay buried in the heart of his father. Yet it would be an +error to regard this marriage as unfortunate. It not only +lasted long enough to justify itself in a beautiful and touching +epilogue, but it gave to the world the scientific work and what +(while time was) were of far greater value, the delightful +qualities of Fleeming Jenkin. The Kentish-Welsh family, +facile, extravagant, generous to a fault and far from brilliant, +had given the father, an extreme example of its humble +virtues. On the other side, the wild, cruel, proud, and +somewhat blackguard stock of the Scotch Campbell-Jacksons, had +put forth, in the person of the mother all its force and +courage.</p> +<p>The marriage fell in evil days. In 1823, the bubble of +the Golden Aunt’s inheritance had burst. She died +holding the hand of the nephew she had so wantonly deceived; at +the last she drew him down and seemed to bless him, surely with +some remorseful feeling; for when the will was opened, there was +not found so much as the mention of his name. He was deeply +in debt; in debt even to the estate of his deceiver, so that he +had to sell a piece of land to clear himself. ‘My +dear boy,’ he said to Charles, ‘there will be nothing +left for you. I am a ruined man.’ And here +follows for me the strangest part of this story. From the +death of the treacherous aunt, Charles Jenkin, senior, had still +some nine years to live; it was perhaps too late for him to turn +to saving, and perhaps his affairs were past restoration. +But his family at least had all this while to prepare; they were +still young men, and knew what they had to look for at their +father’s death; and yet when that happened in September, +1831, the heir was still apathetically waiting. Poor John, +the days of his whips and spurs, and Yeomanry dinners, were quite +over; and with that incredible softness of the Jenkin nature, he +settled down for the rest of a long life, into something not far +removed above a peasant. The mill farm at Stowting had been +saved out of the wreck; and here he built himself a house on the +Mexican model, and made the two ends meet with rustic thrift, +gathering dung with his own hands upon the road and not at all +abashed at his employment. In dress, voice, and manner, he +fell into mere country plainness; lived without the least care +for appearances, the least regret for the past or discontentment +with the present; and when he came to die, died with Stoic +cheerfulness, announcing that he had had a comfortable time and +was yet well pleased to go. One would think there was +little active virtue to be inherited from such a race; and yet in +this same voluntary peasant, the special gift of Fleeming Jenkin +was already half developed. The old man to the end was +perpetually inventing; his strange, ill-spelled, unpunctuated +correspondence is full (when he does not drop into cookery +receipts) of pumps, road engines, steam-diggers, steam-ploughs, +and steam-threshing machines; and I have it on Fleeming’s +word that what he did was full of ingenuity—only, as if by +some cross destiny, useless. These disappointments he not +only took with imperturbable good humour, but rejoiced with a +particular relish over his nephew’s success in the same +field. ‘I glory in the professor,’ he wrote to +his brother; and to Fleeming himself, with a touch of simple +drollery, ‘I was much pleased with your lecture, but why +did you hit me so hard with Conisure’s’ +(connoisseur’s, <i>quasi</i> amateur’s) +‘engineering? Oh, what presumption!—either of +you or <i>my</i>self!’ A quaint, pathetic figure, +this of uncle John, with his dung cart and his inventions; and +the romantic fancy of his Mexican house; and his craze about the +Lost Tribes which seemed to the worthy man the key of all +perplexities; and his quiet conscience, looking back on a life +not altogether vain, for he was a good son to his father while +his father lived, and when evil days approached, he had proved +himself a cheerful Stoic.</p> +<p>It followed from John’s inertia, that the duty of +winding up the estate fell into the hands of Charles. He +managed it with no more skill than might be expected of a sailor +ashore, saved a bare livelihood for John and nothing for the +rest. Eight months later, he married Miss Jackson; and with +her money, bought in some two-thirds of Stowting. In the +beginning of the little family history which I have been +following to so great an extent, the Captain mentions, with a +delightful pride: ‘A Court Baron and Court Leet are +regularly held by the Lady of the Manor, Mrs. Henrietta Camilla +Jenkin’; and indeed the pleasure of so describing his wife, +was the most solid benefit of the investment; for the purchase +was heavily encumbered and paid them nothing till some years +before their death. In the meanwhile, the Jackson family +also, what with wild sons, an indulgent mother and the impending +emancipation of the slaves, was moving nearer and nearer to +beggary; and thus of two doomed and declining houses, the subject +of this memoir was born, heir to an estate and to no money, yet +with inherited qualities that were to make him known and +loved.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER II. 1833–1851.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Birth and +Childhood—Edinburgh—Frankfort-on-the-Main—Paris—The +Revolution of 1848—The Insurrection—Flight to +Italy—Sympathy with Italy—The Insurrection in +Genoa—A Student in Genoa—The Lad and his Mother.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Henry Charles Fleeming Jenkin</span> +(Fleeming, pronounced Flemming, to his friends and family) was +born in a Government building on the coast of Kent, near +Dungeness, where his father was serving at the time in the +Coastguard, on March 25, 1833, and named after Admiral Fleeming, +one of his father’s protectors in the navy.</p> +<p>His childhood was vagrant like his life. Once he was +left in the care of his grandmother Jackson, while Mrs. Jenkin +sailed in her husband’s ship and stayed a year at the +Havannah. The tragic woman was besides from time to time a +member of the family she was in distress of mind and reduced in +fortune by the misconduct of her sons; her destitution and +solitude made it a recurring duty to receive her, her violence +continually enforced fresh separations. In her passion of a +disappointed mother, she was a fit object of pity; but her +grandson, who heard her load his own mother with cruel insults +and reproaches, conceived for her an indignant and impatient +hatred, for which he blamed himself in later life. It is +strange from this point of view to see his childish letters to +Mrs. Jackson; and to think that a man, distinguished above all by +stubborn truthfulness, should have been brought up to such +dissimulation. But this is of course unavoidable in life; +it did no harm to Jenkin; and whether he got harm or benefit from +a so early acquaintance with violent and hateful scenes, is more +than I can guess. The experience, at least, was formative; +and in judging his character it should not be forgotten. +But Mrs. Jackson was not the only stranger in their gates; the +Captain’s sister, Aunt Anna Jenkin, lived with them until +her death; she had all the Jenkin beauty of countenance, though +she was unhappily deformed in body and of frail health; and she +even excelled her gentle and ineffectual family in all amiable +qualities. So that each of the two races from which +Fleeming sprang, had an outpost by his very cradle; the one he +instinctively loved, the other hated; and the life-long war in +his members had begun thus early by a victory for what was +best.</p> +<p>We can trace the family from one country place to another in +the south of Scotland; where the child learned his taste for +sport by riding home the pony from the moors. Before he was +nine he could write such a passage as this about a +Hallowe’en observance: ‘I pulled a middling-sized +cabbage-runt with a pretty sum of gold about it. No witches +would run after me when I was sowing my hempseed this year; my +nuts blazed away together very comfortably to the end of their +lives, and when mamma put hers in which were meant for herself +and papa they blazed away in the like manner.’ Before +he was ten he could write, with a really irritating precocity, +that he had been ‘making some pictures from a book called +“Les Français peints par euxmêmes.” . . +. It is full of pictures of all classes, with a description +of each in French. The pictures are a little caricatured, +but not much.’ Doubtless this was only an echo from +his mother, but it shows the atmosphere in which he +breathed. It must have been a good change for this art +critic to be the playmate of Mary Macdonald, their +gardener’s daughter at Barjarg, and to sup with her family +on potatoes and milk; and Fleeming himself attached some value to +this early and friendly experience of another class.</p> +<p>His education, in the formal sense, began at Jedburgh. +Thence he went to the Edinburgh Academy, where he was the +classmate of Tait and Clerk Maxwell, bore away many prizes, and +was once unjustly flogged by Rector Williams. He used to +insist that all his bad schoolfellows had died early, a belief +amusingly characteristic of the man’s consistent +optimism. In 1846 the mother and son proceeded to +Frankfort-on-the-Main, where they were soon joined by the father, +now reduced to inaction and to play something like third fiddle +in his narrow household. The emancipation of the slaves had +deprived them of their last resource beyond the half-pay of a +captain; and life abroad was not only desirable for the sake of +Fleeming’s education, it was almost enforced by reasons of +economy. But it was, no doubt, somewhat hard upon the +captain. Certainly that perennial boy found a companion in +his son; they were both active and eager, both willing to be +amused, both young, if not in years, then in character. +They went out together on excursions and sketched old castles, +sitting side by side; they had an angry rivalry in walking, +doubtless equally sincere upon both sides; and indeed we may say +that Fleeming was exceptionally favoured, and that no boy had +ever a companion more innocent, engaging, gay, and airy. +But although in this case it would be easy to exaggerate its +import, yet, in the Jenkin family also, the tragedy of the +generations was proceeding, and the child was growing out of his +father’s knowledge. His artistic aptitude was of a +different order. Already he had his quick sight of many +sides of life; he already overflowed with distinctions and +generalisations, contrasting the dramatic art and national +character of England, Germany, Italy, and France. If he +were dull, he would write stories and poems. ‘I have +written,’ he says at thirteen, ‘a very long story in +heroic measure, 300 lines, and another Scotch story and +innumerable bits of poetry’; and at the same age he had not +only a keen feeling for scenery, but could do something with his +pen to call it up. I feel I do always less than justice to +the delightful memory of Captain Jenkin; but with a lad of this +character, cutting the teeth of his intelligence, he was sure to +fall into the background.</p> +<p>The family removed in 1847 to Paris, where Fleeming was put to +school under one Deluc. There he learned French, and (if +the captain is right) first began to show a taste for +mathematics. But a far more important teacher than Deluc +was at hand; the year 1848, so momentous for Europe, was +momentous also for Fleeming’s character. The family +politics were Liberal; Mrs. Jenkin, generous before all things, +was sure to be upon the side of exiles; and in the house of a +Paris friend of hers, Mrs. Turner—already known to fame as +Shelley’s Cornelia de Boinville—Fleeming saw and +heard such men as Manin, Gioberti, and the Ruffinis. He was +thus prepared to sympathise with revolution; and when the hour +came, and he found himself in the midst of stirring and +influential events, the lad’s whole character was +moved. He corresponded at that time with a young Edinburgh +friend, one Frank Scott; and I am here going to draw somewhat +largely on this boyish correspondence. It gives us at once +a picture of the Revolution and a portrait of Jenkin at fifteen; +not so different (his friends will think) from the Jenkin of the +end—boyish, simple, opinionated, delighting in action, +delighting before all things in any generous sentiment.</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">‘February 23, +1848.</p> +<p>‘When at 7 o’clock to-day I went out, I met a +large band going round the streets, calling on the inhabitants to +illuminate their houses, and bearing torches. This was all +very good fun, and everybody was delighted; but as they stopped +rather long and were rather turbulent in the Place de la +Madeleine, near where we live’ [in the Rue Caumartin] +‘a squadron of dragoons came up, formed, and charged at a +hand-gallop. This was a very pretty sight; the crowd was +not too thick, so they easily got away; and the dragoons only +gave blows with the back of the sword, which hurt but did not +wound. I was as close to them as I am now to the other side +of the table; it was rather impressive, however. At the +second charge they rode on the pavement and knocked the torches +out of the fellows’ hands; rather a shame, +too—wouldn’t be stood in England. . . .</p> +<p>[At] ‘ten minutes to ten . . . I went a long way along +the Boulevards, passing by the office of Foreign Affairs, where +Guizot lives, and where to-night there were about a thousand +troops protecting him from the fury of the populace. After +this was passed, the number of the people thickened, till about +half a mile further on, I met a troop of vagabonds, the wildest +vagabonds in the world—Paris vagabonds, well armed, having +probably broken into gunsmiths’ shops and taken the guns +and swords. They were about a hundred. These were +followed by about a thousand (I am rather diminishing than +exaggerating numbers all through), indifferently armed with rusty +sabres, sticks, etc. An uncountable troop of gentlemen, +workmen, shopkeepers’ wives (Paris women dare anything), +ladies’ maids, common women—in fact, a crowd of all +classes, though by far the greater number were of the better +dressed class—followed. Indeed, it was a splendid +sight: the mob in front chanting the +“<i>Marseillaise</i>,” the national war hymn, grave +and powerful, sweetened by the night air—though night in +these splendid streets was turned into day, every window was +filled with lamps, dim torches were tossing in the crowd . . . +for Guizot has late this night given in his resignation, and this +was an improvised illumination.</p> +<p>‘I and my father had turned with the crowd, and were +close behind the second troop of vagabonds. Joy was on +every face. I remarked to papa that “I would not have +missed the scene for anything, I might never see such a splendid +one,” when <i>plong</i> went one shot—every face went +pale—<i>r-r-r-r-r</i> went the whole detachment, [and] the +whole crowd of gentlemen and ladies turned and cut. Such a +scene!—ladies, gentlemen, and vagabonds went sprawling in +the mud, not shot but tripped up; and those that went down could +not rise, they were trampled over. . . . I ran a short time +straight on and did not fall, then turned down a side street, ran +fifty yards and felt tolerably safe; looked for papa, did not see +him; so walked on quickly, giving the news as I +went.’ [It appears, from another letter, the boy was +the first to carry word of the firing to the Rue St. +Honoré; and that his news wherever he brought it was +received with hurrahs. It was an odd entrance upon life for +a little English lad, thus to play the part of rumour in such a +crisis of the history of France.]</p> +<p>‘But now a new fear came over me. I had little +doubt but my papa was safe, but my fear was that he should arrive +at home before me and tell the story; in that case I knew my +mamma would go half mad with fright, so on I went as quick as +possible. I heard no more discharges. When I got half +way home, I found my way blocked up by troops. That way or +the Boulevards I must pass. In the Boulevards they were +fighting, and I was afraid all other passages might be blocked up +. . . and I should have to sleep in a hotel in that case, and +then my mamma—however, after a long <i>détour</i>, I +found a passage and ran home, and in our street joined papa.</p> +<p>‘. . . I’ll tell you to-morrow the other facts +gathered from newspapers and papa. . . . Tonight I have given you +what I have seen with my own eyes an hour ago, and began +trembling with excitement and fear. If I have been too long +on this one subject, it is because it is yet before my eyes.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘Monday, 24.</p> +<p>‘It was that fire raised the people. There was +fighting all through the night in the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette, +on the Boulevards where they had been shot at, and at the Porte +St. Denis. At ten o’clock, they resigned the house of +the Minister of Foreign Affairs (where the disastrous volley was +fired) to the people, who immediately took possession of +it. I went to school, but [was] hardly there when the row +in that quarter commenced. Barricades began to be +fixed. Everyone was very grave now; the <i>externes</i> +went away, but no one came to fetch me, so I had to stay. +No lessons could go on. A troop of armed men took +possession of the barricades, so it was supposed I should have to +sleep there. The revolters came and asked for arms, but +Deluc (head-master) is a National Guard, and he said he had only +his own and he wanted them; but he said he would not fire on +them. Then they asked for wine, which he gave them. +They took good care not to get drunk, knowing they would not be +able to fight. They were very polite and behaved extremely +well.</p> +<p>‘About 12 o’clock a servant came for a boy who +lived near me, [and] Deluc thought it best to send me with +him. We heard a good deal of firing near, but did not come +across any of the parties. As we approached the railway, +the barricades were no longer formed of palings, planks, or +stones; but they had got all the omnibuses as they passed, sent +the horses and passengers about their business, and turned them +over. A double row of overturned coaches made a capital +barricade, with a few paving stones.</p> +<p>‘When I got home I found to my astonishment that in our +fighting quarter it was much quieter. Mamma had just been +out seeing the troops in the Place de la Concorde, when suddenly +the Municipal Guard, now fairly exasperated, prevented the +National Guard from proceeding, and fired at them; the National +Guard had come with their muskets not loaded, but at length +returned the fire. Mamma saw the National Guard fire. +The Municipal Guard were round the corner. She was +delighted for she saw no person killed, though many of the +Municipals were. . . . .</p> +<p>‘I immediately went out with my papa (mamma had just +come back with him) and went to the Place de la Concorde. +There was an enormous quantity of troops in the Place. +Suddenly the gates of the gardens of the Tuileries opened: we +rushed forward, out gallopped an enormous number of cuirassiers, +in the middle of which were a couple of low carriages, said first +to contain the Count de Paris and the Duchess of Orleans, but +afterwards they said it was the King and Queen; and then I heard +he had abdicated. I returned and gave the news.</p> +<p>‘Went out again up the Boulevards. The house of +the Minister of Foreign Affairs was filled with people and +“<i>Hôtel du Peuple</i>” written on it; the +Boulevards were barricaded with fine old trees that were cut down +and stretched all across the road. We went through a great +many little streets, all strongly barricaded, and sentinels of +the people at the principal of them. The streets were very +unquiet, filled with armed men and women, for the troops had +followed the ex-King to Neuilly and left Paris in the power of +the people. We met the captain of the Third Legion of the +National Guard (who had principally protected the people), badly +wounded by a Municipal Guard, stretched on a litter. He was +in possession of his senses. He was surrounded by a troop +of men crying “Our brave captain—we have him +yet—he’s not dead! <i>Vive la +Réforme</i>!” This cry was responded to by +all, and every one saluted him as he passed. I do not know +if he was mortally wounded. That Third Legion has behaved +splendidly.</p> +<p>‘I then returned, and shortly afterwards went out again +to the garden of the Tuileries. They were given up to the +people and the palace was being sacked. The people were +firing blank cartridges to testify their joy, and they had a +cannon on the top of the palace. It was a sight to see a +palace sacked and armed vagabonds firing out of the windows, and +throwing shirts, papers, and dresses of all kinds out of the +windows. They are not rogues, these French; they are not +stealing, burning, or doing much harm. In the Tuileries +they have dressed up some of the statues, broken some, and stolen +nothing but queer dresses. I say, Frank, you must not hate +the French; hate the Germans if you like. The French laugh +at us a little, and call out <i>Goddam</i> in the streets; but +to-day, in civil war, when they might have put a bullet through +our heads, I never was insulted once.</p> +<p>‘At present we have a provisional Government, consisting +of Odion [<i>sic</i>] Barrot, Lamartine, Marast, and some others; +among them a common workman, but very intelligent. This is +a triumph of liberty—rather!</p> +<p>‘Now then, Frank, what do you think of it? I in a +revolution and out all day. Just think, what fun! So +it was at first, till I was fired at yesterday; but to-day I was +not frightened, but it turned me sick at heart, I don’t +know why. There has been no great bloodshed, [though] I +certainly have seen men’s blood several times. But +there’s something shocking to see a whole armed populace, +though not furious, for not one single shop has been broken open, +except the gunsmiths’ shops, and most of the arms will +probably be taken back again. For the French have no +cupidity in their nature; they don’t like to steal—it +is not in their nature. I shall send this letter in a day +or two, when I am sure the post will go again. I know I +have been a long time writing, but I hope you will find the +matter of this letter interesting, as coming from a person +resident on the spot; though probably you don’t take much +interest in the French, but I can think, write, and speak on no +other subject.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘Feb. 25.</p> +<p>‘There is no more fighting, the people have conquered; +but the barricades are still kept up, and the people are in arms, +more than ever fearing some new act of treachery on the part of +the ex-King. The fight where I was was the principal cause +of the Revolution. I was in little danger from the shot, +for there was an immense crowd in front of me, though quite +within gunshot. [By another letter, a hundred yards from +the troops.] I wished I had stopped there.</p> +<p>‘The Paris streets are filled with the most +extraordinary crowds of men, women and children, ladies and +gentlemen. Every person joyful. The bands of armed +men are perfectly polite. Mamma and aunt to-day walked +through armed crowds alone, that were firing blank cartridges in +all directions. Every person made way with the greatest +politeness, and one common man with a blouse, coming by accident +against her immediately stopped to beg her pardon in the politest +manner. There are few drunken men. The Tuileries is +still being run over by the people; they only broke two things, a +bust of Louis Philippe and one of Marshal Bugeaud, who fired on +the people. . . . .</p> +<p>‘I have been out all day again to-day, and precious +tired I am. The Republican party seem the strongest, and +are going about with red ribbons in their button-holes. . . . +.</p> +<p>‘The title of “Mister” is abandoned; they +say nothing but “Citizen,” and the people are shaking +hands amazingly. They have got to the top of the public +monuments, and, mingling with bronze or stone statues, five or +six make a sort of <i>tableau vivant</i>, the top man holding up +the red flag of the Republic; and right well they do it, and very +picturesque they look. I think I shall put this letter in +the post to-morrow as we got a letter to-night.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">(On Envelope.)</p> +<p>‘M. Lamartine has now by his eloquence conquered the +whole armed crowd of citizens threatening to kill him if he did +not immediately proclaim the Republic and red flag. He said +he could not yield to the citizens of Paris alone, that the whole +country must be consulted; that he chose the tricolour, for it +had followed and accompanied the triumphs of France all over the +world, and that the red flag had only been dipped in the blood of +the citizens. For sixty hours he has been quieting the +people: he is at the head of everything. Don’t be +prejudiced, Frank, by what you see in the papers. The +French have acted nobly, splendidly; there has been no brutality, +plundering, or stealing. . . . I did not like the French +before; but in this respect they are the finest people in the +world. I am so glad to have been here.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And there one could wish to stop with this apotheosis of +liberty and order read with the generous enthusiasm of a boy; but +as the reader knows, it was but the first act of the piece. +The letters, vivid as they are, written as they were by a hand +trembling with fear and excitement, yet do injustice, in their +boyishness of tone, to the profound effect produced. At the +sound of these songs and shot of cannon, the boy’s mind +awoke. He dated his own appreciation of the art of acting +from the day when he saw and heard Rachel recite the +‘<i>Marseillaise</i>’ at the Français, the +tricolour in her arms. What is still more strange, he had +been up to then invincibly indifferent to music, insomuch that he +could not distinguish ‘God save the Queen’ from +‘Bonnie Dundee’; and now, to the chanting of the mob, +he amazed his family by learning and singing ‘<i>Mourir +pour la Patrie</i>.’ But the letters, though they +prepare the mind for no such revolution in the boy’s tastes +and feelings, are yet full of entertaining traits. Let the +reader note Fleeming’s eagerness to influence his friend +Frank, an incipient Tory (no less) as further history displayed; +his unconscious indifference to his father and devotion to his +mother, betrayed in so many significant expressions and +omissions; the sense of dignity of this diminutive ‘person +resident on the spot,’ who was so happy as to escape +insult; and the strange picture of the household—father, +mother, son, and even poor Aunt Anna—all day in the streets +in the thick of this rough business, and the boy packed off alone +to school in a distant quarter on the very morrow of the +massacre.</p> +<p>They had all the gift of enjoying life’s texture as it +comes; they were all born optimists. The name of liberty +was honoured in that family, its spirit also, but within +stringent limits; and some of the foreign friends of Mrs. Jenkin +were, as I have said, men distinguished on the Liberal +side. Like Wordsworth, they beheld</p> +<blockquote><p>France standing on the top of golden hours<br /> +And human nature seeming born again.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>At once, by temper and belief, they were formed to find their +element in such a decent and whiggish convulsion, spectacular in +its course, moderate in its purpose. For them,</p> +<blockquote><p>Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,<br /> +But to be young was very heaven.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And I cannot but smile when I think that (again like +Wordsworth) they should have so specially disliked the +consequence.</p> +<p>It came upon them by surprise. Liberal friends of the +precise right shade of colour had assured them, in Mrs. +Turner’s drawing-room, that all was for the best; and they +rose on January 23 without fear. About the middle of the +day they heard the sound of musketry, and the next morning they +were wakened by the cannonade. The French who had behaved +so ‘splendidly,’ pausing, at the voice of Lamartine, +just where judicious Liberals could have desired—the +French, who had ‘no cupidity in their nature,’ were +now about to play a variation on the theme rebellion. The +Jenkins took refuge in the house of Mrs. Turner, the house of the +false prophets, ‘Anna going with Mrs. Turner, that she +might be prevented speaking English, Fleeming, Miss H. and I (it +is the mother who writes) walking together. As we reached +the Rue de Clichy, the report of the cannon sounded close to our +ears and made our hearts sick, I assure you. The fighting +was at the barrier Rochechouart, a few streets off. All +Saturday and Sunday we were a prey to great alarm, there came so +many reports that the insurgents were getting the upper +hand. One could tell the state of affairs from the extreme +quiet or the sudden hum in the street. When the news was +bad, all the houses closed and the people disappeared; when +better, the doors half opened and you heard the sound of men +again. From the upper windows we could see each discharge +from the Bastille—I mean the smoke rising—and also +the flames and smoke from the Boulevard la Chapelle. We +were four ladies, and only Fleeming by way of a man, and +difficulty enough we had to keep him from joining the National +Guards—his pride and spirit were both fired. You +cannot picture to yourself the multitudes of soldiers, guards, +and armed men of all sorts we watched—not close to the +window, however, for such havoc had been made among them by the +firing from the windows, that as the battalions marched by, they +cried, “Fermez vos fenêtres!” and it was very +painful to watch their looks of anxiety and suspicion as they +marched by.’</p> +<p>‘The Revolution,’ writes Fleeming to Frank Scott, +‘was quite delightful: getting popped at and run at by +horses, and giving sous for the wounded into little boxes guarded +by the raggedest, picturesquest, delightfullest, sentinels; but +the insurrection! ugh, I shudder to think at [<i>sic</i>] +it.’ He found it ‘not a bit of fun sitting +boxed up in the house four days almost. . . I was the only +<i>gentleman</i> to four ladies, and didn’t they keep me in +order! I did not dare to show my face at a window, for fear +of catching a stray ball or being forced to enter the National +Guard; [for] they would have it I was a man full-grown, French, +and every way fit to fight. And my mamma was as bad as any +of them; she that told me I was a coward last time if I stayed in +the house a quarter of an hour! But I drew, examined the +pistols, of which I found lots with caps, powder, and ball, while +sometimes murderous intentions of killing a dozen insurgents and +dying violently overpowered by numbers. . . . .’ We +may drop this sentence here: under the conduct of its boyish +writer, it was to reach no legitimate end.</p> +<p>Four days of such a discipline had cured the family of Paris; +the same year Fleeming was to write, in answer apparently to a +question of Frank Scott’s, ‘I could find no national +game in France but revolutions’; and the witticism was +justified in their experience. On the first possible day, +they applied for passports, and were advised to take the road to +Geneva. It appears it was scarce safe to leave Paris for +England. Charles Reade, with keen dramatic gusto, had just +smuggled himself out of that city in the bottom of a cab. +English gold had been found on the insurgents, the name of +England was in evil odour; and it was thus—for strategic +reasons, so to speak—that Fleeming found himself on the way +to that Italy where he was to complete his education, and for +which he cherished to the end a special kindness.</p> +<p>It was in Genoa they settled; partly for the sake of the +captain, who might there find naval comrades; partly because of +the Ruffinis, who had been friends of Mrs. Jenkin in their time +of exile and were now considerable men at home; partly, in fine, +with hopes that Fleeming might attend the University; in +preparation for which he was put at once to school. It was +the year of Novara; Mazzini was in Rome; the dry bones of Italy +were moving; and for people of alert and liberal sympathies the +time was inspiriting. What with exiles turned Ministers of +State, universities thrown open to Protestants, Fleeming himself +the first Protestant student in Genoa, and thus, as his mother +writes, ‘a living instance of the progress of liberal +ideas’—it was little wonder if the enthusiastic young +woman and the clever boy were heart and soul upon the side of +Italy. It should not be forgotten that they were both on +their first visit to that country; the mother still child enough +‘to be delighted when she saw real monks’; and both +mother and son thrilling with the first sight of snowy Alps, the +blue Mediterranean, and the crowded port and the palaces of +Genoa. Nor was their zeal without knowledge. Ruffini, +deputy for Genoa and soon to be head of the University, was at +their side; and by means of him the family appear to have had +access to much Italian society. To the end, Fleeming +professed his admiration of the Piedmontese and his unalterable +confidence in the future of Italy under their conduct; for Victor +Emanuel, Cavour, the first La Marmora and Garibaldi, he had +varying degrees of sympathy and praise: perhaps highest for the +King, whose good sense and temper filled him with +respect—perhaps least for Garibaldi, whom he loved but yet +mistrusted.</p> +<p>But this is to look forward: these were the days not of Victor +Emanuel but of Charles Albert; and it was on Charles Albert that +mother and son had now fixed their eyes as on the sword-bearer of +Italy. On Fleeming’s sixteenth birthday, they were, +the mother writes, ‘in great anxiety for news from the +army. You can have no idea what it is to live in a country +where such a struggle is going on. The interest is one that +absorbs all others. We eat, drink, and sleep to the noise +of drums and musketry. You would enjoy and almost admire +Fleeming’s enthusiasm and earnestness—and, courage, I +may say—for we are among the small minority of English who +side with the Italians. The other day, at dinner at the +Consul’s, boy as he is, and in spite of my admonitions, +Fleeming defended the Italian cause, and so well that he +“tripped up the heels of his adversary” simply from +being well-informed on the subject and honest. He is as +true as steel, and for no one will he bend right or left. . . . +. Do not fancy him a Bobadil,’ she adds, ‘he is +only a very true, candid boy. I am so glad he remains in +all respects but information a great child.’</p> +<p>If this letter is correctly dated, the cause was already lost +and the King had already abdicated when these lines were +written. No sooner did the news reach Genoa, than there +began ‘tumultuous movements’; and the Jenkins’ +received hints it would be wise to leave the city. But they +had friends and interests; even the captain had English officers +to keep him company, for Lord Hardwicke’s ship, the +<i>Vengeance</i>, lay in port; and supposing the danger to be +real, I cannot but suspect the whole family of a divided purpose, +prudence being possibly weaker than curiosity. Stay, at +least, they did, and thus rounded their experience of the +revolutionary year. On Sunday, April 1, Fleeming and the +captain went for a ramble beyond the walls, leaving Aunt Anna and +Mrs. Jenkin to walk on the bastions with some friends. On +the way back, this party turned aside to rest in the Church of +the Madonna delle Grazie. ‘We had remarked,’ +writes Mrs. Jenkin, ‘the entire absence of sentinels on the +ramparts, and how the cannons were left in solitary state; and I +had just remarked “How quiet everything is!” when +suddenly we heard the drums begin to beat and distant +shouts. <i>Accustomed as we are</i> to revolutions, we +never thought of being frightened.’ For all that, +they resumed their return home. On the way they saw men +running and vociferating, but nothing to indicate a general +disturbance, until, near the Duke’s palace, they came upon +and passed a shouting mob dragging along with it three +cannon. It had scarcely passed before they heard ‘a +rushing sound’; one of the gentlemen thrust back the party +of ladies under a shed, and the mob passed again. A +fine-looking young man was in their hands; and Mrs. Jenkin saw +him with his mouth open as if he sought to speak, saw him tossed +from one to another like a ball, and then saw him no more. +‘He was dead a few instants after, but the crowd hid that +terror from us. My knees shook under me and my sight left +me.’ With this street tragedy, the curtain rose upon +their second revolution.</p> +<p>The attack on Spirito Santo, and the capitulation and +departure of the troops speedily followed. Genoa was in the +hands of the Republicans, and now came a time when the English +residents were in a position to pay some return for hospitality +received. Nor were they backward. Our Consul (the +same who had the benefit of correction from Fleeming) carried the +Intendente on board the <i>Vengeance</i>, escorting him through +the streets, getting along with him on board a shore boat, and +when the insurgents levelled their muskets, standing up and +naming himself, ‘<i>Console Inglese</i>.’ A +friend of the Jenkins’, Captain Glynne, had a more painful, +if a less dramatic part. One Colonel Nosozzo had been +killed (I read) while trying to prevent his own artillery from +firing on the mob; but in that hell’s cauldron of a +distracted city, there were no distinctions made, and the +Colonel’s widow was hunted for her life. In her grief +and peril, the Glynnes received and hid her; Captain Glynne +sought and found her husband’s body among the slain, saved +it for two days, brought the widow a lock of the dead man’s +hair; but at last, the mob still strictly searching, seems to +have abandoned the body, and conveyed his guest on board the +<i>Vengeance</i>. The Jenkins also had their refugees, the +family of an <i>employé</i> threatened by a decree. +‘You should have seen me making a Union Jack to nail over +our door,’ writes Mrs. Jenkin. ‘I never worked +so fast in my life. Monday and Tuesday,’ she +continues, ‘were tolerably quiet, our hearts beating fast +in the hope of La Marmora’s approach, the streets +barricaded, and none but foreigners and women allowed to leave +the city.’ On Wednesday, La Marmora came indeed, but +in the ugly form of a bombardment; and that evening the Jenkins +sat without lights about their drawing-room window, +‘watching the huge red flashes of the cannon’ from +the Brigato and La Specula forts, and hearkening, not without +some awful pleasure, to the thunder of the cannonade.</p> +<p>Lord Hardwicke intervened between the rebels and La Marmora; +and there followed a troubled armistice, filled with the voice of +panic. Now the <i>Vengeance</i> was known to be cleared for +action; now it was rumoured that the galley slaves were to be let +loose upon the town, and now that the troops would enter it by +storm. Crowds, trusting in the Union Jack over the +Jenkins’ door, came to beg them to receive their linen and +other valuables; nor could their instances be refused; and in the +midst of all this bustle and alarm, piles of goods must be +examined and long inventories made. At last the captain +decided things had gone too far. He himself apparently +remained to watch over the linen; but at five o’clock on +the Sunday morning, Aunt Anna, Fleeming, and his mother were +rowed in a pour of rain on board an English merchantman, to +suffer ‘nine mortal hours of agonising +suspense.’ With the end of that time, peace was +restored. On Tuesday morning officers with white flags +appeared on the bastions; then, regiment by regiment, the troops +marched in, two hundred men sleeping on the ground floor of the +Jenkins’ house, thirty thousand in all entering the city, +but without disturbance, old La Marmora being a commander of a +Roman sternness.</p> +<p>With the return of quiet, and the reopening of the +universities, we behold a new character, Signor Flaminio: the +professors, it appears, made no attempt upon the Jenkin; and thus +readily italianised the Fleeming. He came well recommended; +for their friend Ruffini was then, or soon after, raised to be +the head of the University; and the professors were very kind and +attentive, possibly to Ruffini’s +<i>protégé</i>, perhaps also to the first +Protestant student. It was no joke for Signor Flaminio at +first; certificates had to be got from Paris and from Rector +Williams; the classics must be furbished up at home that he might +follow Latin lectures; examinations bristled in the path, the +entrance examination with Latin and English essay, and oral +trials (much softened for the foreigner) in Horace, Tacitus, and +Cicero, and the first University examination only three months +later, in Italian eloquence, no less, and other wider +subjects. On one point the first Protestant student was +moved to thank his stars: that there was no Greek required for +the degree. Little did he think, as he set down his +gratitude, how much, in later life and among cribs and +dictionaries, he was to lament this circumstance; nor how much of +that later life he was to spend acquiring, with infinite toil, a +shadow of what he might then have got with ease and fully. +But if his Genoese education was in this particular imperfect, he +was fortunate in the branches that more immediately touched on +his career. The physical laboratory was the best mounted in +Italy. Bancalari, the professor of natural philosophy, was +famous in his day; by what seems even an odd coincidence, he went +deeply into electromagnetism; and it was principally in that +subject that Signor Flaminio, questioned in Latin and answering +in Italian, passed his Master of Arts degree with first-class +honours. That he had secured the notice of his teachers, +one circumstance sufficiently proves. A philosophical +society was started under the presidency of Mamiani, ‘one +of the examiners and one of the leaders of the Moderate +party’; and out of five promising students brought forward +by the professors to attend the sittings and present essays, +Signor Flaminio was one. I cannot find that he ever read an +essay; and indeed I think his hands were otherwise too +full. He found his fellow-students ‘not such a bad +set of chaps,’ and preferred the Piedmontese before the +Genoese; but I suspect he mixed not very freely with +either. Not only were his days filled with university work, +but his spare hours were fully dedicated to the arts under the +eye of a beloved task-mistress. He worked hard and well in +the art school, where he obtained a silver medal ‘for a +couple of legs the size of life drawn from one of Raphael’s +cartoons.’ His holidays were spent in sketching; his +evenings, when they were free, at the theatre. Here at the +opera he discovered besides a taste for a new art, the art of +music; and it was, he wrote, ‘as if he had found out a +heaven on earth.’ ‘I am so anxious that +whatever he professes to know, he should really perfectly +possess,’ his mother wrote, ‘that I spare no +pains’; neither to him nor to myself, she might have +added. And so when he begged to be allowed to learn the +piano, she started him with characteristic barbarity on the +scales; and heard in consequence ‘heart-rending +groans’ and saw ‘anguished claspings of hands’ +as he lost his way among their arid intricacies.</p> +<p>In this picture of the lad at the piano, there is something, +for the period, girlish. He was indeed his mother’s +boy; and it was fortunate his mother was not altogether +feminine. She gave her son a womanly delicacy in morals, to +a man’s taste—to his own taste in later +life—too finely spun, and perhaps more elegant than +healthful. She encouraged him besides in drawing-room +interests. But in other points her influence was +manlike. Filled with the spirit of thoroughness, she taught +him to make of the least of these accomplishments a virile task; +and the teaching lasted him through life. Immersed as she +was in the day’s movements and buzzed about by leading +Liberals, she handed on to him her creed in politics: an enduring +kindness for Italy, and a loyalty, like that of many clever +women, to the Liberal party with but small regard to men or +measures. This attitude of mind used often to disappoint me +in a man so fond of logic; but I see now how it was learned from +the bright eyes of his mother and to the sound of the cannonades +of 1848. To some of her defects, besides, she made him +heir. Kind as was the bond that united her to her son, kind +and even pretty, she was scarce a woman to adorn a home; loving +as she did to shine; careless as she was of domestic, studious of +public graces. She probably rejoiced to see the boy grow up +in somewhat of the image of herself, generous, excessive, +enthusiastic, external; catching at ideas, brandishing them when +caught; fiery for the right, but always fiery; ready at fifteen +to correct a consul, ready at fifty to explain to any artist his +own art.</p> +<p>The defects and advantages of such a training were obvious in +Fleeming throughout life. His thoroughness was not that of +the patient scholar, but of an untrained woman with fits of +passionate study; he had learned too much from dogma, given +indeed by cherished lips; and precocious as he was in the use of +the tools of the mind, he was truly backward in knowledge of life +and of himself. Such as it was at least, his home and +school training was now complete; and you are to conceive the lad +as being formed in a household of meagre revenue, among foreign +surroundings, and under the influence of an imperious +drawing-room queen; from whom he learned a great refinement of +morals, a strong sense of duty, much forwardness of bearing, all +manner of studious and artistic interests, and many ready-made +opinions which he embraced with a son’s and a +disciple’s loyalty.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER III. 1851–1858.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Return to England—Fleeming at +Fairbairn’s—Experience in a Strike—Dr. Bell and +Greek Architecture—The Gaskells—Fleeming at +Greenwich—The Austins—Fleeming and the +Austins—His Engagement—Fleeming and Sir W. +Thomson.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> 1851, the year of Aunt +Anna’s death, the family left Genoa and came to Manchester, +where Fleeming was entered in Fairbairn’s works as an +apprentice. From the palaces and Alps, the Mole, the blue +Mediterranean, the humming lanes and the bright theatres of +Genoa, he fell—and he was sharply conscious of the +fall—to the dim skies and the foul ways of +Manchester. England he found on his return ‘a horrid +place,’ and there is no doubt the family found it a dear +one. The story of the Jenkin finances is not easy to +follow. The family, I am told, did not practice frugality, +only lamented that it should be needful; and Mrs. Jenkin, who was +always complaining of ‘those dreadful bills,’ was +‘always a good deal dressed.’ But at this time +of the return to England, things must have gone further. A +holiday tour of a fortnight, Fleeming feared would be beyond what +he could afford, and he only projected it ‘to have a castle +in the air.’ And there were actual pinches. +Fresh from a warmer sun, he was obliged to go without a +greatcoat, and learned on railway journeys to supply the place of +one with wrappings of old newspaper.</p> +<p>From half-past eight till six, he must ‘file and chip +vigorously in a moleskin suit and infernally dirty.’ +The work was not new to him, for he had already passed some time +in a Genoese shop; and to Fleeming no work was without +interest. Whatever a man can do or know, he longed to know +and do also. ‘I never learned anything,’ he +wrote, ‘not even standing on my head, but I found a use for +it.’ In the spare hours of his first telegraph +voyage, to give an instance of his greed of knowledge, he meant +‘to learn the whole art of navigation, every rope in the +ship and how to handle her on any occasion’; and once when +he was shown a young lady’s holiday collection of seaweeds, +he must cry out, ‘It showed me my eyes had been +idle.’ Nor was his the case of the mere literary +smatterer, content if he but learn the names of things. In +him, to do and to do well, was even a dearer ambition than to +know. Anything done well, any craft, despatch, or finish, +delighted and inspired him. I remember him with a twopenny +Japanese box of three drawers, so exactly fitted that, when one +was driven home, the others started from their places; the whole +spirit of Japan, he told me, was pictured in that box; that plain +piece of carpentry was as much inspired by the spirit of +perfection as the happiest drawing or the finest bronze; and he +who could not enjoy it in the one was not fully able to enjoy it +in the others. Thus, too, he found in Leonardo’s +engineering and anatomical drawings a perpetual feast; and of the +former he spoke even with emotion. Nothing indeed annoyed +Fleeming more than the attempt to separate the fine arts from the +arts of handicraft; any definition or theory that failed to bring +these two together, according to him, had missed the point; and +the essence of the pleasure received lay in seeing things well +done. Other qualities must be added; he was the last to +deny that; but this, of perfect craft, was at the bottom of +all. And on the other hand, a nail ill-driven, a joint +ill-fitted, a tracing clumsily done, anything to which a man had +set his hand and not set it aptly, moved him to shame and +anger. With such a character, he would feel but little +drudgery at Fairbairn’s. There would be something +daily to be done, slovenliness to be avoided, and a higher mark +of skill to be attained; he would chip and file, as he had +practiced scales, impatient of his own imperfection, but resolute +to learn.</p> +<p>And there was another spring of delight. For he was now +moving daily among those strange creations of man’s brain, +to some so abhorrent, to him of an interest so inexhaustible: in +which iron, water, and fire are made to serve as slaves, now with +a tread more powerful than an elephant’s, and now with a +touch more precise and dainty than a pianist’s. The +taste for machinery was one that I could never share with him, +and he had a certain bitter pity for my weakness. Once when +I had proved, for the hundredth time, the depth of this defect, +he looked at me askance. ‘And the best of the +joke,’ said he, ‘is that he thinks himself quite a +poet.’ For to him the struggle of the engineer +against brute forces and with inert allies, was nobly +poetic. Habit never dulled in him the sense of the +greatness of the aims and obstacles of his profession. +Habit only sharpened his inventor’s gusto in contrivance, +in triumphant artifice, in the Odyssean subtleties, by which +wires are taught to speak, and iron hands to weave, and the +slender ship to brave and to outstrip the tempest. To the +ignorant the great results alone are admirable; to the knowing, +and to Fleeming in particular, rather the infinite device and +sleight of hand that made them possible.</p> +<p>A notion was current at the time that, in such a shop as +Fairbairn’s, a pupil would never be popular unless he drank +with the workmen and imitated them in speech and manner. +Fleeming, who would do none of these things, they accepted as a +friend and companion; and this was the subject of remark in +Manchester, where some memory of it lingers till to-day. He +thought it one of the advantages of his profession to be brought +into a close relation with the working classes; and for the +skilled artisan he had a great esteem, liking his company, his +virtues, and his taste in some of the arts. But he knew the +classes too well to regard them, like a platform speaker, in a +lump. He drew, on the other hand, broad distinctions; and +it was his profound sense of the difference between one working +man and another that led him to devote so much time, in later +days, to the furtherance of technical education. In 1852 he +had occasion to see both men and masters at their worst, in the +excitement of a strike; and very foolishly (after their custom) +both would seem to have behaved. Beginning with a fair show +of justice on either side, the masters stultified their cause by +obstinate impolicy, and the men disgraced their order by acts of +outrage. ‘On Wednesday last,’ writes Fleeming, +‘about three thousand banded round Fairbairn’s door +at 6 o’clock: men, women, and children, factory boys and +girls, the lowest of the low in a very low place. Orders +came that no one was to leave the works; but the men inside +(Knobsticks, as they are called) were precious hungry and thought +they would venture. Two of my companions and myself went +out with the very first, and had the full benefit of every +possible groan and bad language.’ But the police +cleared a lane through the crowd, the pupils were suffered to +escape unhurt, and only the Knobsticks followed home and kicked +with clogs; so that Fleeming enjoyed, as we may say, for nothing, +that fine thrill of expectant valour with which he had sallied +forth into the mob. ‘I never before felt myself so +decidedly somebody, instead of nobody,’ he wrote.</p> +<p>Outside as inside the works, he was ‘pretty merry and +well to do,’ zealous in study, welcome to many friends, +unwearied in loving-kindness to his mother. For some time +he spent three nights a week with Dr. Bell, ‘working away +at certain geometrical methods of getting the Greek architectural +proportions’: a business after Fleeming’s heart, for +he was never so pleased as when he could marry his two devotions, +art and science. This was besides, in all likelihood, the +beginning of that love and intimate appreciation of things Greek, +from the least to the greatest, from the <i>Agamemnon</i> +(perhaps his favourite tragedy) down to the details of Grecian +tailoring, which he used to express in his familiar phrase: +‘The Greeks were the boys.’ Dr. Bell—the +son of George Joseph, the nephew of Sir Charles, and though he +made less use of it than some, a sharer in the distinguished +talents of his race—had hit upon the singular fact that +certain geometrical intersections gave the proportions of the +Doric order. Fleeming, under Dr. Bell’s direction, +applied the same method to the other orders, and again found the +proportions accurately given. Numbers of diagrams were +prepared; but the discovery was never given to the world, perhaps +because of the dissensions that arose between the authors. +For Dr. Bell believed that ‘these intersections were in +some way connected with, or symbolical of, the antagonistic +forces at work’; but his pupil and helper, with +characteristic trenchancy, brushed aside this mysticism, and +interpreted the discovery as ‘a geometrical method of +dividing the spaces or (as might be said) of setting out the +work, purely empirical and in no way connected with any laws of +either force or beauty.’ ‘Many a hard and +pleasant fight we had over it,’ wrote Jenkin, in later +years; ‘and impertinent as it may seem, the pupil is still +unconvinced by the arguments of the master.’ I do not +know about the antagonistic forces in the Doric order; in +Fleeming they were plain enough; and the Bobadil of these affairs +with Dr. Bell was still, like the corrector of Italian consuls, +‘a great child in everything but information.’ +At the house of Colonel Cleather, he might be seen with a family +of children; and with these, there was no word of the Greek +orders; with these Fleeming was only an uproarious boy and an +entertaining draughtsman; so that his coming was the signal for +the young people to troop into the playroom, where sometimes the +roof rang with romping, and sometimes they gathered quietly about +him as he amused them with his pencil.</p> +<p>In another Manchester family, whose name will be familiar to +my readers—that of the Gaskells, Fleeming was a frequent +visitor. To Mrs. Gaskell, he would often bring his new +ideas, a process that many of his later friends will understand +and, in their own cases, remember. With the girls, he had +‘constant fierce wrangles,’ forcing them to reason +out their thoughts and to explain their prepossessions; and I +hear from Miss Gaskell that they used to wonder how he could +throw all the ardour of his character into the smallest matters, +and to admire his unselfish devotion to his parents. Of one +of these wrangles, I have found a record most characteristic of +the man. Fleeming had been laying down his doctrine that +the end justifies the means, and that it is quite right ‘to +boast of your six men-servants to a burglar or to steal a knife +to prevent a murder’; and the Miss Gaskells, with girlish +loyalty to what is current, had rejected the heresy with +indignation. From such passages-at-arms, many retire +mortified and ruffled; but Fleeming had no sooner left the house +than he fell into delighted admiration of the spirit of his +adversaries. From that it was but a step to ask himself +‘what truth was sticking in their heads’; for even +the falsest form of words (in Fleeming’s life-long opinion) +reposed upon some truth, just as he could ‘not even allow +that people admire ugly things, they admire what is pretty in the +ugly thing.’ And before he sat down to write his +letter, he thought he had hit upon the explanation. +‘I fancy the true idea,’ he wrote, ‘is that you +must never do yourself or anyone else a moral injury—make +any man a thief or a liar—for any end’; quite a +different thing, as he would have loved to point out, from never +stealing or lying. But this perfervid disputant was not +always out of key with his audience. One whom he met in the +same house announced that she would never again be happy. +‘What does that signify?’ cried Fleeming. +‘We are not here to be happy, but to be good.’ +And the words (as his hearer writes to me) became to her a sort +of motto during life.</p> +<p>From Fairbairn’s and Manchester, Fleeming passed to a +railway survey in Switzerland, and thence again to Mr. +Penn’s at Greenwich, where he was engaged as +draughtsman. There in 1856, we find him in ‘a +terribly busy state, finishing up engines for innumerable +gun-boats and steam frigates for the ensuing +campaign.’ From half-past eight in the morning till +nine or ten at night, he worked in a crowded office among +uncongenial comrades, ‘saluted by chaff, generally low +personal and not witty,’ pelted with oranges and apples, +regaled with dirty stories, and seeking to suit himself with his +surroundings or (as he writes it) trying to be as little like +himself as possible. His lodgings were hard by, +‘across a dirty green and through some half-built streets +of two-storied houses’; he had Carlyle and the poets, +engineering and mathematics, to study by himself in such spare +time as remained to him; and there were several ladies, young and +not so young, with whom he liked to correspond. But not all +of these could compensate for the absence of that mother, who had +made herself so large a figure in his life, for sorry +surroundings, unsuitable society, and work that leaned to the +mechanical. ‘Sunday,’ says he, ‘I +generally visit some friends in town and seem to swim in clearer +water, but the dirty green seems all the dirtier when I get +back. Luckily I am fond of my profession, or I could not +stand this life.’ It is a question in my mind, if he +could have long continued to stand it without loss. +‘We are not here to be happy, but to be good,’ quoth +the young philosopher; but no man had a keener appetite for +happiness than Fleeming Jenkin. There is a time of life +besides when apart from circumstances, few men are agreeable to +their neighbours and still fewer to themselves; and it was at +this stage that Fleeming had arrived, later than common and even +worse provided. The letter from which I have quoted is the +last of his correspondence with Frank Scott, and his last +confidential letter to one of his own sex. ‘If you +consider it rightly,’ he wrote long after, ‘you will +find the want of correspondence no such strange want in +men’s friendships. There is, believe me, something +noble in the metal which does not rust though not burnished by +daily use.’ It is well said; but the last letter to +Frank Scott is scarcely of a noble metal. It is plain the +writer has outgrown his old self, yet not made acquaintance with +the new. This letter from a busy youth of three and twenty, +breathes of seventeen: the sickening alternations of conceit and +shame, the expense of hope <i>in vacuo</i>, the lack of friends, +the longing after love; the whole world of egoism under which +youth stands groaning, a voluntary Atlas.</p> +<p>With Fleeming this disease was never seemingly severe. +The very day before this (to me) distasteful letter, he had +written to Miss Bell of Manchester in a sweeter strain; I do not +quote the one, I quote the other; fair things are the best. +‘I keep my own little lodgings,’ he writes, +‘but come up every night to see mamma’ (who was then +on a visit to London) ‘if not kept too late at the works; +and have singing lessons once more, and sing “<i>Donne +l’amore è scaltro pargoletto</i>”; and think +and talk about you; and listen to mamma’s projects +<i>de</i> Stowting. Everything turns to gold at her touch, +she’s a fairy and no mistake. We go on talking till I +have a picture in my head, and can hardly believe at the end that +the original is Stowting. Even you don’t know half +how good mamma is; in other things too, which I must not +mention. She teaches me how it is not necessary to be very +rich to do much good. I begin to understand that mamma +would find useful occupation and create beauty at the bottom of a +volcano. She has little weaknesses, but is a real +generous-hearted woman, which I suppose is the finest thing in +the world.’ Though neither mother nor son could be +called beautiful, they make a pretty picture; the ugly, generous, +ardent woman weaving rainbow illusions; the ugly, clear-sighted, +loving son sitting at her side in one of his rare hours of +pleasure, half-beguiled, half-amused, wholly admiring, as he +listens. But as he goes home, and the fancy pictures fade, +and Stowting is once more burthened with debt, and the noisy +companions and the long hours of drudgery once more approach, no +wonder if the dirty green seems all the dirtier or if Atlas must +resume his load.</p> +<p>But in healthy natures, this time of moral teething passes +quickly of itself, and is easily alleviated by fresh interests; +and already, in the letter to Frank Scott, there are two words of +hope: his friends in London, his love for his profession. +The last might have saved him; for he was ere long to pass into a +new sphere, where all his faculties were to be tried and +exercised, and his life to be filled with interest and +effort. But it was not left to engineering: another and +more influential aim was to be set before him. He must, in +any case, have fallen in love; in any case, his love would have +ruled his life; and the question of choice was, for the +descendant of two such families, a thing of paramount +importance. Innocent of the world, fiery, generous, devoted +as he was, the son of the wild Jacksons and the facile Jenkins +might have been led far astray. By one of those +partialities that fill men at once with gratitude and wonder, his +choosing was directed well. Or are we to say that by a +man’s choice in marriage, as by a crucial merit, he +deserves his fortune? One thing at least reason may +discern: that a man but partly chooses, he also partly forms, his +help-mate; and he must in part deserve her, or the treasure is +but won for a moment to be lost. Fleeming chanced if you +will (and indeed all these opportunities are as ‘random as +blind man’s buff’) upon a wife who was worthy of him; +but he had the wit to know it, the courage to wait and labour for +his prize, and the tenderness and chivalry that are required to +keep such prizes precious. Upon this point he has himself +written well, as usual with fervent optimism, but as usual (in +his own phrase) with a truth sticking in his head.</p> +<p>‘Love,’ he wrote, ‘is not an intuition of +the person most suitable to us, most required by us; of the +person with whom life flowers and bears fruit. If this were +so, the chances of our meeting that person would be small indeed; +our intuition would often fail; the blindness of love would then +be fatal as it is proverbial. No, love works differently, +and in its blindness lies its strength. Man and woman, each +strongly desires to be loved, each opens to the other that heart +of ideal aspirations which they have often hid till then; each, +thus knowing the ideal of the other, tries to fulfil that ideal, +each partially succeeds. The greater the love, the greater +the success; the nobler the idea of each, the more durable, the +more beautiful the effect. Meanwhile the blindness of each +to the other’s defects enables the transformation to +proceed [unobserved,] so that when the veil is withdrawn (if it +ever is, and this I do not know) neither knows that any change +has occurred in the person whom they loved. Do not fear, +therefore. I do not tell you that your friend will not +change, but as I am sure that her choice cannot be that of a man +with a base ideal, so I am sure the change will be a safe and a +good one. Do not fear that anything you love will vanish, +he must love it too.’</p> +<p>Among other introductions in London, Fleeming had presented a +letter from Mrs. Gaskell to the Alfred Austins. This was a +family certain to interest a thoughtful young man. Alfred, +the youngest and least known of the Austins, had been a beautiful +golden-haired child, petted and kept out of the way of both sport +and study by a partial mother. Bred an attorney, he had +(like both his brothers) changed his way of life, and was called +to the bar when past thirty. A Commission of Enquiry into +the state of the poor in Dorsetshire gave him an opportunity of +proving his true talents; and he was appointed a Poor Law +Inspector, first at Worcester, next at Manchester, where he had +to deal with the potato famine and the Irish immigration of the +‘forties, and finally in London, where he again +distinguished himself during an epidemic of cholera. He was +then advanced to the Permanent Secretaryship of Her +Majesty’s Office of Works and Public Buildings; a position +which he filled with perfect competence, but with an extreme of +modesty; and on his retirement, in 1868, he was made a Companion +of the Bath. While apprentice to a Norwich attorney, Alfred +Austin was a frequent visitor in the house of Mr. Barron, a +rallying place in those days of intellectual society. +Edward Barron, the son of a rich saddler or leather merchant in +the Borough, was a man typical of the time. When he was a +child, he had once been patted on the head in his father’s +shop by no less a man than Samuel Johnson, as the Doctor went +round the Borough canvassing for Mr. Thrale; and the child was +true to this early consecration. ‘A life of lettered +ease spent in provincial retirement,’ it is thus that the +biographer of that remarkable man, William Taylor, announces his +subject; and the phrase is equally descriptive of the life of +Edward Barron. The pair were close friends, ‘W. T. +and a pipe render everything agreeable,’ writes Barron in +his diary in 1828; and in 1833, after Barron had moved to London +and Taylor had tasted the first public failure of his powers, the +latter wrote: ‘To my ever dearest Mr. Barron say, if you +please, that I miss him more than I regret him—that I +acquiesce in his retirement from Norwich, because I could ill +brook his observation of my increasing debility of +mind.’ This chosen companion of William Taylor must +himself have been no ordinary man; and he was the friend besides +of Borrow, whom I find him helping in his Latin. But he had +no desire for popular distinction, lived privately, married a +daughter of Dr. Enfield of Enfield’s <i>Speaker</i>, and +devoted his time to the education of his family, in a deliberate +and scholarly fashion, and with certain traits of stoicism, that +would surprise a modern. From these children we must single +out his youngest daughter, Eliza, who learned under his care to +be a sound Latin, an elegant Grecian, and to suppress emotion +without outward sign after the manner of the Godwin school. +This was the more notable, as the girl really derived from the +Enfields; whose high-flown romantic temper, I wish I could find +space to illustrate. She was but seven years old, when +Alfred Austin remarked and fell in love with her; and the union +thus early prepared was singularly full. Where the husband +and wife differed, and they did so on momentous subjects, they +differed with perfect temper and content; and in the conduct of +life, and in depth and durability of love, they were at +one. Each full of high spirits, each practised something of +the same repression: no sharp word was uttered in their +house. The same point of honour ruled them, a guest was +sacred and stood within the pale from criticism. It was a +house, besides, of unusual intellectual tension. Mrs. +Austin remembered, in the early days of the marriage, the three +brothers, John, Charles, and Alfred, marching to and fro, each +with his hands behind his back, and ‘reasoning high’ +till morning; and how, like Dr. Johnson, they would cheer their +speculations with as many as fifteen cups of tea. And +though, before the date of Fleeming’s visit, the brothers +were separated, Charles long ago retired from the world at +Brandeston, and John already near his end in the ‘rambling +old house’ at Weybridge, Alfred Austin and his wife were +still a centre of much intellectual society, and still, as indeed +they remained until the last, youthfully alert in mind. +There was but one child of the marriage, Anne, and she was +herself something new for the eyes of the young visitor; brought +up, as she had been, like her mother before her, to the standard +of a man’s acquirements. Only one art had she been +denied, she must not learn the violin—the thought was too +monstrous even for the Austins; and indeed it would seem as if +that tide of reform which we may date from the days of Mary +Wollstonecraft had in some degree even receded; for though Miss +Austin was suffered to learn Greek, the accomplishment was kept +secret like a piece of guilt. But whether this stealth was +caused by a backward movement in public thought since the time of +Edward Barron, or by the change from enlightened Norwich to +barbarian London, I have no means of judging.</p> +<p>When Fleeming presented his letter, he fell in love at first +sight with Mrs. Austin and the life, and atmosphere of the +house. There was in the society of the Austins, outward, +stoical conformers to the world, something gravely suggestive of +essential eccentricity, something unpretentiously breathing of +intellectual effort, that could not fail to hit the fancy of this +hot-brained boy. The unbroken enamel of courtesy, the +self-restraint, the dignified kindness of these married folk, had +besides a particular attraction for their visitor. He could +not but compare what he saw, with what he knew of his mother and +himself. Whatever virtues Fleeming possessed, he could +never count on being civil; whatever brave, true-hearted +qualities he was able to admire in Mrs. Jenkin, mildness of +demeanour was not one of them. And here he found per sons +who were the equals of his mother and himself in intellect and +width of interest, and the equals of his father in mild urbanity +of disposition. Show Fleeming an active virtue, and he +always loved it. He went away from that house struck +through with admiration, and vowing to himself that his own +married life should be upon that pattern, his wife (whoever she +might be) like Eliza Barron, himself such another husband as +Alfred Austin. What is more strange, he not only brought +away, but left behind him, golden opinions. He must have +been—he was, I am told—a trying lad; but there shone +out of him such a light of innocent candour, enthusiasm, +intelligence, and appreciation, that to persons already some way +forward in years, and thus able to enjoy indulgently the +perennial comedy of youth, the sight of him was delightful. +By a pleasant coincidence, there was one person in the house whom +he did not appreciate and who did not appreciate him: Anne +Austin, his future wife. His boyish vanity ruffled her; his +appearance, never impressive, was then, by reason of obtrusive +boyishness, still less so; she found occasion to put him in the +wrong by correcting a false quantity; and when Mr. Austin, after +doing his visitor the almost unheard-of honour of accompanying +him to the door, announced ‘That was what young men were +like in my time’—she could only reply, looking on her +handsome father, ‘I thought they had been better +looking.’</p> +<p>This first visit to the Austins took place in 1855; and it +seems it was some time before Fleeming began to know his mind; +and yet longer ere he ventured to show it. The corrected +quantity, to those who knew him well, will seem to have played +its part; he was the man always to reflect over a correction and +to admire the castigator. And fall in love he did; not +hurriedly but step by step, not blindly but with critical +discrimination; not in the fashion of Romeo, but before he was +done, with all Romeo’s ardour and more than Romeo’s +faith. The high favour to which he presently rose in the +esteem of Alfred Austin and his wife, might well give him +ambitious notions; but the poverty of the present and the +obscurity of the future were there to give him pause; and when +his aspirations began to settle round Miss Austin, he tasted, +perhaps for the only time in his life, the pangs of +diffidence. There was indeed opening before him a wide door +of hope. He had changed into the service of Messrs. Liddell +& Gordon; these gentlemen had begun to dabble in the new +field of marine telegraphy; and Fleeming was already face to face +with his life’s work. That impotent sense of his own +value, as of a ship aground, which makes one of the agonies of +youth, began to fall from him. New problems which he was +endowed to solve, vistas of new enquiry which he was fitted to +explore, opened before him continually. His gifts had found +their avenue and goal. And with this pleasure of effective +exercise, there must have sprung up at once the hope of what is +called by the world success. But from these low beginnings, +it was a far look upward to Miss Austin: the favour of the loved +one seems always more than problematical to any lover; the +consent of parents must be always more than doubtful to a young +man with a small salary and no capital except capacity and +hope. But Fleeming was not the lad to lose any good thing +for the lack of trial; and at length, in the autumn of 1857, this +boyish-sized, boyish-mannered, and superlatively ill-dressed +young engineer, entered the house of the Austins, with such +sinkings as we may fancy, and asked leave to pay his addresses to +the daughter. Mrs. Austin already loved him like a son, she +was but too glad to give him her consent; Mr. Austin reserved the +right to inquire into his character; from neither was there a +word about his prospects, by neither was his income +mentioned. ‘Are these people,’ he wrote, struck +with wonder at this dignified disinterestedness, ‘are these +people the same as other people?’ It was not till he +was armed with this permission, that Miss Austin even suspected +the nature of his hopes: so strong, in this unmannerly boy, was +the principle of true courtesy; so powerful, in this impetuous +nature, the springs of self-repression. And yet a boy he +was; a boy in heart and mind; and it was with a boy’s +chivalry and frankness that he won his wife. His conduct +was a model of honour, hardly of tact; to conceal love from the +loved one, to court her parents, to be silent and discreet till +these are won, and then without preparation to approach the +lady—these are not arts that I would recommend for +imitation. They lead to final refusal. Nothing saved +Fleeming from that fate, but one circumstance that cannot be +counted upon—the hearty favour of the mother, and one gift +that is inimitable and that never failed him throughout life, the +gift of a nature essentially noble and outspoken. A happy +and high-minded anger flashed through his despair: it won for him +his wife.</p> +<p>Nearly two years passed before it was possible to marry: two +years of activity, now in London; now at Birkenhead, fitting out +ships, inventing new machinery for new purposes, and dipping into +electrical experiment; now in the <i>Elba</i> on his first +telegraph cruise between Sardinia and Algiers: a busy and +delightful period of bounding ardour, incessant toil, growing +hope and fresh interests, with behind and through all, the image +of his beloved. A few extracts from his correspondence with +his betrothed will give the note of these truly joyous +years. ‘My profession gives me all the excitement and +interest I ever hope for, but the sorry jade is obviously jealous +of you.’—‘“Poor Fleeming,” in spite +of wet, cold and wind, clambering over moist, tarry slips, +wandering among pools of slush in waste places inhabited by +wandering locomotives, grows visibly stronger, has dismissed his +office cough and cured his toothache.’—‘The +whole of the paying out and lifting machinery must be designed +and ordered in two or three days, and I am half crazy with +work. I like it though: it’s like a good ball, the +excitement carries you through.’—‘I was running +to and from the ships and warehouse through fierce gusts of rain +and wind till near eleven, and you cannot think what a pleasure +it was to be blown about and think of you in your pretty +dress.’—‘I am at the works till ten and +sometimes till eleven. But I have a nice office to sit in, +with a fire to myself, and bright brass scientific instruments +all round me, and books to read, and experiments to make, and +enjoy myself amazingly. I find the study of electricity so +entertaining that I am apt to neglect my other work.’ +And for a last taste, ‘Yesterday I had some charming +electrical experiments. What shall I compare them +to—a new song? a Greek play?’</p> +<p>It was at this time besides that he made the acquaintance of +Professor, now Sir William, Thomson. To describe the part +played by these two in each other’s lives would lie out of +my way. They worked together on the Committee on Electrical +Standards; they served together at the laying down or the repair +of many deep-sea cables; and Sir William was regarded by +Fleeming, not only with the ‘worship’ (the word is +his own) due to great scientific gifts, but with an ardour of +personal friendship not frequently excelled. To their +association, Fleeming brought the valuable element of a practical +understanding; but he never thought or spoke of himself where Sir +William was in question; and I recall quite in his last days, a +singular instance of this modest loyalty to one whom he admired +and loved. He drew up a paper, in a quite personal +interest, of his own services; yet even here he must step out of +his way, he must add, where it had no claim to be added, his +opinion that, in their joint work, the contributions of Sir +William had been always greatly the most valuable. Again, I +shall not readily forget with what emotion he once told me an +incident of their associated travels. On one of the +mountain ledges of Madeira, Fleeming’s pony bolted between +Sir William. and the precipice above; by strange good fortune and +thanks to the steadiness of Sir William’s horse, no harm +was done; but for the moment, Fleeming saw his friend hurled into +the sea, and almost by his own act: it was a memory that haunted +him.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV. 1859–1868.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Fleeming’s Marriage—His Married +Life—Professional Difficulties—Life at +Claygate—Illness of Mrs. F. Jenkin; and of +Fleeming—Appointment to the Chair at Edinburgh.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> Saturday, Feb. 26, 1859, +profiting by a holiday of four days, Fleeming was married to Miss +Austin at Northiam: a place connected not only with his own +family but with that of his bride as well. By Tuesday +morning, he was at work again, fitting out cableships at +Birkenhead. Of the walk from his lodgings to the works, I +find a graphic sketch in one of his letters: ‘Out over the +railway bridge, along a wide road raised to the level of a ground +floor above the land, which, not being built upon, harbours +puddles, ponds, pigs, and Irish hovels;—so to the dock +warehouses, four huge piles of building with no windows, +surrounded by a wall about twelve feet high—in through the +large gates, round which hang twenty or thirty rusty Irish, +playing pitch and toss and waiting for employment;—on along +the railway, which came in at the same gates and which branches +down between each vast block—past a pilot-engine butting +refractory trucks into their places—on to the last block, +[and] down the branch, sniffing the guano-scented air and +detecting the old bones. The hartshorn flavour of the guano +becomes very strong, as I near the docks where, across the +<i>Elba’s</i> decks, a huge vessel is discharging her cargo +of the brown dust, and where huge vessels have been discharging +that same cargo for the last five months.’ This was +the walk he took his young wife on the morrow of his +return. She had been used to the society of lawyers and +civil servants, moving in that circle which seems to itself the +pivot of the nation and is in truth only a clique like another; +and Fleeming was to her the nameless assistant of a nameless firm +of engineers, doing his inglorious business, as she now saw for +herself, among unsavoury surroundings. But when their walk +brought them within view of the river, she beheld a sight to her +of the most novel beauty: four great, sea-going ships dressed out +with flags. ‘How lovely!’ she cried. +‘What is it for?’—‘For you,’ said +Fleeming. Her surprise was only equalled by her +pleasure. But perhaps, for what we may call private fame, +there is no life like that of the engineer; who is a great man in +out-of-the-way places, by the dockside or on the desert island or +in populous ships, and remains quite unheard of in the coteries +of London. And Fleeming had already made his mark among the +few who had an opportunity of knowing him.</p> +<p>His marriage was the one decisive incident of his career; from +that moment until the day of his death, he had one thought to +which all the rest were tributary, the thought of his wife. +No one could know him even slightly, and not remark the absorbing +greatness of that sentiment; nor can any picture of the man be +drawn that does not in proportion dwell upon it. This is a +delicate task; but if we are to leave behind us (as we wish) some +presentment of the friend we have lost, it is a task that must be +undertaken.</p> +<p>For all his play of mind and fancy, for all his +indulgence—and, as time went on, he grew +indulgent—Fleeming had views of duty that were even +stern. He was too shrewd a student of his fellow-men to +remain long content with rigid formulæ of conduct. +Iron-bound, impersonal ethics, the procrustean bed of rules, he +soon saw at their true value as the deification of +averages. ‘As to Miss (I declare I forget her name) +being bad,’ I find him writing, ‘people only mean +that she has broken the Decalogue—which is not at all the +same thing. People who have kept in the high-road of Life +really have less opportunity for taking a comprehensive view of +it than those who have leaped over the hedges and strayed up the +hills; not but what the hedges are very necessary, and our stray +travellers often have a weary time of it. So, you may say, +have those in the dusty roads.’ Yet he was himself a +very stern respecter of the hedgerows; sought safety and found +dignity in the obvious path of conduct; and would palter with no +simple and recognised duty of his epoch. Of marriage in +particular, of the bond so formed, of the obligations incurred, +of the debt men owe to their children, he conceived in a truly +antique spirit: not to blame others, but to constrain +himself. It was not to blame, I repeat, that he held these +views; for others, he could make a large allowance; and yet he +tacitly expected of his friends and his wife a high standard of +behaviour. Nor was it always easy to wear the armour of +that ideal.</p> +<p>Acting upon these beliefs; conceiving that he had indeed +‘given himself’ (in the full meaning of these words) +for better, for worse; painfully alive to his defects of temper +and deficiency in charm; resolute to make up for these; thinking +last of himself: Fleeming was in some ways the very man to have +made a noble, uphill fight of an unfortunate marriage. In +other ways, it is true he was one of the most unfit for such a +trial. And it was his beautiful destiny to remain to the +last hour the same absolute and romantic lover, who had shown to +his new bride the flag-draped vessels in the Mersey. No +fate is altogether easy; but trials are our touchstone, trials +overcome our reward; and it was given to Fleeming to +conquer. It was given to him to live for another, not as a +task, but till the end as an enchanting pleasure. +‘People may write novels,’ he wrote in 1869, +‘and other people may write poems, but not a man or woman +among them can write to say how happy a man may be, who is +desperately in love with his wife after ten years of +marriage.’ And again in 1885, after more than +twenty-six years of marriage, and within but five weeks of his +death: ‘Your first letter from Bournemouth,’ he +wrote, ‘gives me heavenly pleasure—for which I thank +Heaven and you too—who are my heaven on earth.’ +The mind hesitates whether to say that such a man has been more +good or more fortunate.</p> +<p>Any woman (it is the defect of her sex) comes sooner to the +stable mind of maturity than any man; and Jenkin was to the end +of a most deliberate growth. In the next chapter, when I +come to deal with his telegraphic voyages and give some taste of +his correspondence, the reader will still find him at twenty-five +an arrant school-boy. His wife besides was more thoroughly +educated than he. In many ways she was able to teach him, +and he proud to be taught; in many ways she outshone him, and he +delighted to be outshone. All these superiorities, and +others that, after the manner of lovers, he no doubt forged for +himself, added as time went on to the humility of his original +love. Only once, in all I know of his career, did he show a +touch of smallness. He could not learn to sing correctly; +his wife told him so and desisted from her lessons; and the +mortification was so sharply felt that for years he could not be +induced to go to a concert, instanced himself as a typical man +without an ear, and never sang again. I tell it; for the +fact that this stood singular in his behaviour, and really amazed +all who knew him, is the happiest way I can imagine to commend +the tenor of his simplicity; and because it illustrates his +feeling for his wife. Others were always welcome to laugh +at him; if it amused them, or if it amused him, he would proceed +undisturbed with his occupation, his vanity invulnerable. +With his wife it was different: his wife had laughed at his +singing; and for twenty years the fibre ached. Nothing, +again, was more notable than the formal chivalry of this +unmannered man to the person on earth with whom he was the most +familiar. He was conscious of his own innate and often +rasping vivacity and roughness and he was never forgetful of his +first visit to the Austins and the vow he had registered on his +return. There was thus an artificial element in his +punctilio that at times might almost raise a smile. But it +stood on noble grounds; for this was how he sought to shelter +from his own petulance the woman who was to him the symbol of the +household and to the end the beloved of his youth.</p> +<p>I wish in this chapter to chronicle small beer; taking a hasty +glance at some ten years of married life and of professional +struggle; and reserving till the next all the more interesting +matter of his cruises. Of his achievements and their worth, +it is not for me to speak: his friend and partner, Sir William +Thomson, has contributed a note on the subject, which will be +found in the Appendix, and to which I must refer the +reader. He is to conceive in the meanwhile for himself +Fleeming’s manifold engagements: his service on the +Committee on Electrical Standards, his lectures on electricity at +Chatham, his chair at the London University, his partnership with +Sir William Thomson and Mr. Varley in many ingenious patents, his +growing credit with engineers and men of science; and he is to +bear in mind that of all this activity and acquist of reputation, +the immediate profit was scanty. Soon after his marriage, +Fleeming had left the service of Messrs. Liddell & Gordon, +and entered into a general engineering partnership with Mr. +Forde, a gentleman in a good way of business. It was a +fortunate partnership in this, that the parties retained their +mutual respect unlessened and separated with regret; but +men’s affairs, like men, have their times of sickness, and +by one of these unaccountable variations, for hard upon ten years +the business was disappointing and the profits meagre. +‘Inditing drafts of German railways which will never get +made’: it is thus I find Fleeming, not without a touch of +bitterness, describe his occupation. Even the patents hung +fire at first. There was no salary to rely on; children +were coming and growing up; the prospect was often anxious. +In the days of his courtship, Fleeming had written to Miss Austin +a dissuasive picture of the trials of poverty, assuring her these +were no figments but truly bitter to support; he told her this, +he wrote, beforehand, so that when the pinch came and she +suffered, she should not be disappointed in herself nor tempted +to doubt her own magnanimity: a letter of admirable wisdom and +solicitude. But now that the trouble came, he bore it very +lightly. It was his principle, as he once prettily +expressed it, ‘to enjoy each day’s happiness, as it +arises, like birds or children.’ His optimism, if +driven out at the door, would come in again by the window; if it +found nothing but blackness in the present, would hit upon some +ground of consolation in the future or the past. And his +courage and energy were indefatigable. In the year 1863, +soon after the birth of their first son, they moved into a +cottage at Claygate near Esher; and about this time, under +manifold troubles both of money and health, I find him writing +from abroad: ‘The country will give us, please God, health +and strength. I will love and cherish you more than ever, +you shall go where you wish, you shall receive whom you +wish—and as for money you shall have that too. I +cannot be mistaken. I have now measured myself with many +men. I do not feel weak, I do not feel that I shall +fail. In many things I have succeeded, and I will in +this. And meanwhile the time of waiting, which, please +Heaven, shall not be long, shall also not be so bitter. +Well, well, I promise much, and do not know at this moment how +you and the dear child are. If he is but better, courage, +my girl, for I see light.’</p> +<p>This cottage at Claygate stood just without the village, well +surrounded with trees and commanding a pleasant view. A +piece of the garden was turfed over to form a croquet green, and +Fleeming became (I need scarce say) a very ardent player. +He grew ardent, too, in gardening. This he took up at first +to please his wife, having no natural inclination; but he had no +sooner set his hand to it, than, like everything else he touched, +it became with him a passion. He budded roses, he potted +cuttings in the coach-house; if there came a change of weather at +night, he would rise out of bed to protect his favourites; when +he was thrown with a dull companion, it was enough for him to +discover in the man a fellow gardener; on his travels, he would +go out of his way to visit nurseries and gather hints; and to the +end of his life, after other occupations prevented him putting +his own hand to the spade, he drew up a yearly programme for his +gardener, in which all details were regulated. He had begun +by this time to write. His paper on Darwin, which had the +merit of convincing on one point the philosopher himself, had +indeed been written before this in London lodgings; but his pen +was not idle at Claygate; and it was here he wrote (among other +things) that review of ‘<i>Fecundity</i>, <i>Fertility</i>, +<i>Sterility</i>, <i>and Allied Topics</i>,’ which Dr. +Matthews Duncan prefixed by way of introduction to the second +edition of the work. The mere act of writing seems to cheer +the vanity of the most incompetent; but a correction accepted by +Darwin, and a whole review borrowed and reprinted by Matthews +Duncan are compliments of a rare strain, and to a man still +unsuccessful must have been precious indeed. There was yet +a third of the same kind in store for him; and when Munro himself +owned that he had found instruction in the paper on Lucretius, we +may say that Fleeming had been crowned in the capitol of +reviewing.</p> +<p>Croquet, charades, Christmas magic lanterns for the village +children, an amateur concert or a review article in the evening; +plenty of hard work by day; regular visits to meetings of the +British Association, from one of which I find him +characteristically writing: ‘I cannot say that I have had +any amusement yet, but I am enjoying the dulness and dry bustle +of the whole thing’; occasional visits abroad on business, +when he would find the time to glean (as I have said) gardening +hints for himself, and old folk-songs or new fashions of dress +for his wife; and the continual study and care of his children: +these were the chief elements of his life. Nor were friends +wanting. Captain and Mrs. Jenkin, Mr. and Mrs. Austin, +Clerk Maxwell, Miss Bell of Manchester, and others came to them +on visits. Mr. Hertslet of the Foreign Office, his wife and +his daughter, were neighbours and proved kind friends; in 1867 +the Howitts came to Claygate and sought the society of ‘the +two bright, clever young people’; <a +name="citation113"></a><a href="#footnote113" +class="citation">[113]</a> and in a house close by, Mr. Frederick +Ricketts came to live with his family. Mr. Ricketts was a +valued friend during his short life; and when he was lost with +every circumstance of heroism in the <i>La Plata</i>, Fleeming +mourned him sincerely.</p> +<p>I think I shall give the best idea of Fleeming in this time of +his early married life, by a few sustained extracts from his +letters to his wife, while she was absent on a visit in 1864.</p> +<blockquote><p>‘<i>Nov.</i> 11.—Sunday was too wet to +walk to Isleworth, for which I was sorry, so I staid and went to +Church and thought of you at Ardwick all through the +Commandments, and heard Dr. — expound in a remarkable way a +prophecy of St. Paul’s about Roman Catholics, which +<i>mutatis mutandis</i> would do very well for Protestants in +some parts. Then I made a little nursery of Borecole and +Enfield market cabbage, grubbing in wet earth with leggings and +gray coat on. Then I tidied up the coach-house to my own +and Christine’s admiration. Then encouraged by +<i>bouts-rimés</i> I wrote you a copy of verses; high time +I think; I shall just save my tenth year of knowing my lady-love +without inditing poetry or rhymes to her.</p> +<p>‘Then I rummaged over the box with my father’s +letters and found interesting notes from myself. One I +should say my first letter, which little Austin I should say +would rejoice to see and shall see—with a drawing of a +cottage and a spirited “cob.” What was more to +the purpose, I found with it a paste-cutter which Mary begged +humbly for Christine and I generously gave this morning.</p> +<p>‘Then I read some of Congreve. There are admirable +scenes in the manner of Sheridan; all wit and no character, or +rather one character in a great variety of situations and +scenes. I could show you some scenes, but others are too +coarse even for my stomach hardened by a course of French +novels.</p> +<p>‘All things look so happy for the rain.</p> +<p>‘<i>Nov.</i> 16.—Verbenas looking well. . . . I am +but a poor creature without you; I have naturally no spirit or +fun or enterprise in me. Only a kind of mechanical capacity +for ascertaining whether two really is half four, etc.; but when +you are near me I can fancy that I too shine, and vainly suppose +it to be my proper light; whereas by my extreme darkness when you +are not by, it clearly can only be by a reflected brilliance that +I seem aught but dull. Then for the moral part of me: if it +were not for you and little Odden, I should feel by no means sure +that I had any affection power in me. . . . Even the muscular me +suffers a sad deterioration in your absence. I don’t +get up when I ought to, I have snoozed in my chair after dinner; +I do not go in at the garden with my wonted vigour, and feel ten +times as tired as usual with a walk in your absence; so you see, +when you are not by, I am a person without ability, affections or +vigour, but droop dull, selfish, and spiritless; can you wonder +that I love you?</p> +<p>‘<i>Nov.</i> 17.—. . . I am very glad we married +young. I would not have missed these five years, no, not +for any hopes; they are my own.</p> +<p>‘<i>Nov.</i> 30.—I got through my Chatham lecture +very fairly though almost all my apparatus went astray. I +dined at the mess, and got home to Isleworth the same evening; +your father very kindly sitting up for me.</p> +<p>‘<i>Dec.</i> 1.—Back at dear Claygate. Many +cuttings flourish, especially those which do honour to your +hand. Your Californian annuals are up and about. +Badger is fat, the grass green. . . .</p> +<p>‘<i>Dec.</i> 3.—Odden will not talk of you, while +you are away, having inherited, as I suspect, his father’s +way of declining to consider a subject which is painful, as your +absence is. . . . I certainly should like to learn Greek and I +think it would be a capital pastime for the long winter evenings. +. . . How things are misrated! I declare croquet is a noble +occupation compared to the pursuits of business men. As for +so-called idleness—that is, one form of it—I vow it +is the noblest aim of man. When idle, one can love, one can +be good, feel kindly to all, devote oneself to others, be +thankful for existence, educate one’s mind, one’s +heart, one’s body. When busy, as I am busy now or +have been busy to-day, one feels just as you sometimes felt when +you were too busy, owing to want of servants.</p> +<p>‘<i>Dec.</i> 5.—On Sunday I was at Isleworth, +chiefly engaged in playing with Odden. We had the most +enchanting walk together through the brickfields. It was +very muddy, and, as he remarked, not fit for Nanna, but fit for +us <i>men</i>. The dreary waste of bared earth, thatched +sheds and standing water, was a paradise to him; and when we +walked up planks to deserted mixing and crushing mills, and +actually saw where the clay was stirred with long iron prongs, +and chalk or lime ground with “a tind of a mill,” his +expression of contentment and triumphant heroism knew no limit to +its beauty. Of course on returning I found Mrs. Austin +looking out at the door in an anxious manner, and thinking we had +been out quite long enough. . . . I am reading Don Quixote +chiefly and am his fervent admirer, but I am so sorry he did not +place his affections on a Dulcinea of somewhat worthier +stamp. In fact I think there must be a mistake about +it. Don Quixote might and would serve his lady in most +preposterous fashion, but I am sure he would have chosen a lady +of merit. He imagined her to be such no doubt, and drew a +charming picture of her occupations by the banks of the river; +but in his other imaginations, there was some kind of peg on +which to hang the false costumes he created; windmills are big, +and wave their arms like giants; sheep in the distance are +somewhat like an army; a little boat on the river-side must look +much the same whether enchanted or belonging to millers; but +except that Dulcinea is a woman, she bears no resemblance at all +to the damsel of his imagination.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>At the time of these letters, the oldest son only was born to +them. In September of the next year, with the birth of the +second, Charles Frewen, there befell Fleeming a terrible alarm +and what proved to be a lifelong misfortune. Mrs. Jenkin +was taken suddenly and alarmingly ill; Fleeming ran a matter of +two miles to fetch the doctor, and, drenched with sweat as he +was, returned with him at once in an open gig. On their +arrival at the house, Mrs. Jenkin half unconsciously took and +kept hold of her husband’s hand. By the +doctor’s orders, windows and doors were set open to create +a thorough draught, and the patient was on no account to be +disturbed. Thus, then, did Fleeming pass the whole of that +night, crouching on the floor in the draught, and not daring to +move lest he should wake the sleeper. He had never been +strong; energy had stood him instead of vigour; and the result of +that night’s exposure was flying rheumatism varied by +settled sciatica. Sometimes it quite disabled him, +sometimes it was less acute; but he was rarely free from it until +his death. I knew him for many years; for more than ten we +were closely intimate; I have lived with him for weeks; and +during all this time, he only once referred to his infirmity and +then perforce as an excuse for some trouble he put me to, and so +slightly worded that I paid no heed. This is a good measure +of his courage under sufferings of which none but the untried +will think lightly. And I think it worth noting how this +optimist was acquainted with pain. It will seem strange +only to the superficial. The disease of pessimism springs +never from real troubles, which it braces men to bear, which it +delights men to bear well. Nor does it readily spring at +all, in minds that have conceived of life as a field of ordered +duties, not as a chase in which to hunt for gratifications. +‘We are not here to be happy, but to be good’; I wish +he had mended the phrase: ‘We are not here to be happy, but +to try to be good,’ comes nearer the modesty of +truth. With such old-fashioned morality, it is possible to +get through life, and see the worst of it, and feel some of the +worst of it, and still acquiesce piously and even gladly in +man’s fate. Feel some of the worst of it, I say; for +some of the rest of the worst is, by this simple faith, +excluded.</p> +<p>It was in the year 1868, that the clouds finally rose. +The business in partnership with Mr. Forde began suddenly to pay +well; about the same time the patents showed themselves a +valuable property; and but a little after, Fleeming was appointed +to the new chair of engineering in the University of +Edinburgh. Thus, almost at once, pecuniary embarrassments +passed for ever out of his life. Here is his own epilogue +to the time at Claygate, and his anticipations of the future in +Edinburgh.</p> +<blockquote><p>‘ . . . . The dear old house at Claygate is +not let and the pretty garden a mass of weeds. I feel +rather as if we had behaved unkindly to them. We were very +happy there, but now that it is over I am conscious of the weight +of anxiety as to money which I bore all the time. With you +in the garden, with Austin in the coach-house, with pretty songs +in the little, low white room, with the moonlight in the dear +room up-stairs, ah, it was perfect; but the long walk, wondering, +pondering, fearing, scheming, and the dusty jolting railway, and +the horrid fusty office with its endless disappointments, they +are well gone. It is well enough to fight and scheme and +bustle about in the eager crowd here [in London] for a while now +and then, but not for a lifetime. What I have now is just +perfect. Study for winter, action for summer, lovely +country for recreation, a pleasant town for talk . . .’</p> +</blockquote> +<h2>CHAPTER V.—NOTES OF TELEGRAPH VOYAGES, 1858 TO +1873.</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">But</span> it is now time to see Jenkin at +his life’s work. I have before me certain imperfect +series of letters written, as he says, ‘at hazard, for one +does not know at the time what is important and what is +not’: the earlier addressed to Miss Austin, after the +betrothal; the later to Mrs. Jenkin the young wife. I +should premise that I have allowed myself certain editorial +freedoms, leaving out and splicing together much as he himself +did with the Bona cable: thus edited the letters speak for +themselves, and will fail to interest none who love adventure or +activity. Addressed as they were to her whom he called his +‘dear engineering pupil,’ they give a picture of his +work so clear that a child may understand, and so attractive that +I am half afraid their publication may prove harmful, and still +further crowd the ranks of a profession already +overcrowded. But their most engaging quality is the picture +of the writer; with his indomitable self-confidence and courage, +his readiness in every pinch of circumstance or change of plan, +and his ever fresh enjoyment of the whole web of human +experience, nature, adventure, science, toil and rest, society +and solitude. It should be borne in mind that the writer of +these buoyant pages was, even while he wrote, harassed by +responsibility, stinted in sleep and often struggling with the +prostration of sea-sickness. To this last enemy, which he +never overcame, I have omitted, in my search after condensation, +a good many references; if they were all left, such was the +man’s temper, they would not represent one hundredth part +of what he suffered, for he was never given to complaint. +But indeed he had met this ugly trifle, as he met every thwart +circumstance of life, with a certain pleasure of pugnacity; and +suffered it not to check him, whether in the exercise of his +profession or the pursuit of amusement.</p> +<h3>I.</h3> +<p style="text-align: right">‘Birkenhead: April 18, +1858.</p> +<p>‘Well, you should know, Mr. — having a contract to +lay down a submarine telegraph from Sardinia to Africa failed +three times in the attempt. The distance from land to land +is about 140 miles. On the first occasion, after proceeding +some 70 miles, he had to cut the cable—the cause I forget; +he tried again, same result; then picked up about 20 miles of the +lost cable, spliced on a new piece, and very nearly got across +that time, but ran short of cable, and when but a few miles off +Galita in very deep water, had to telegraph to London for more +cable to be manufactured and sent out whilst he tried to stick to +the end: for five days, I think, he lay there sending and +receiving messages, but heavy weather coming on the cable parted +and Mr. — went home in despair—at least I should +think so.</p> +<p>‘He then applied to those eminent engineers, R. S. +Newall & Co., who made and laid down a cable for him last +autumn—Fleeming Jenkin (at the time in considerable mental +agitation) having the honour of fitting out the <i>Elba</i> for +that purpose.’ [On this occasion, the <i>Elba</i> has +no cable to lay; but] ‘is going out in the beginning of May +to endeavour to fish up the cables Mr. — lost. There +are two ends at or near the shore: the third will probably not be +found within 20 miles from land. One of these ends will be +passed over a very big pulley or sheave at the bows, passed six +times round a big barrel or drum; which will be turned round by a +steam engine on deck, and thus wind up the cable, while the +<i>Elba</i> slowly steams ahead. The cable is not wound +round and round the drum as your silk is wound on its reel, but +on the contrary never goes round more than six times, going off +at one side as it comes on at the other, and going down into the +hold of the <i>Elba</i> to be coiled along in a big coil or +skein.</p> +<p>‘I went down to Gateshead to discuss with Mr. Newall the +form which this tolerably simple idea should take, and have been +busy since I came here drawing, ordering, and putting up the +machinery—uninterfered with, thank goodness, by any +one. I own I like responsibility; it flatters one and then, +your father might say, I have more to gain than to lose. +Moreover I do like this bloodless, painless combat with wood and +iron, forcing the stubborn rascals to do my will, licking the +clumsy cubs into an active shape, seeing the child of +to-day’s thought working to-morrow in full vigour at his +appointed task.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘May 12.</p> +<p>‘By dint of bribing, bullying, cajoling, and going day +by day to see the state of things ordered, all my work is very +nearly ready now; but those who have neglected these precautions +are of course disappointed. Five hundred fathoms of chain +[were] ordered by—some three weeks since, to be ready by +the 10th without fail; he sends for it to-day—150 fathoms +all they can let us have by the 15th—and how the rest is to +be got, who knows? He ordered a boat a month since and +yesterday we could see nothing of her but the keel and about two +planks. I could multiply instances without end. At +first one goes nearly mad with vexation at these things; but one +finds so soon that they are the rule, that then it becomes +necessary to feign a rage one does not feel. I look upon it +as the natural order of things, that if I order a thing, it will +not be done—if by accident it gets done, it will certainly +be done wrong: the only remedy being to watch the performance at +every stage.</p> +<p>‘To-day was a grand field-day. I had steam up and +tried the engine against pressure or resistance. One part +of the machinery is driven by a belt or strap of leather. I +always had my doubts this might slip; and so it did, +wildly. I had made provision for doubling it, putting on +two belts instead of one. No use—off they went, +slipping round and off the pulleys instead of driving the +machinery. Tighten them—no use. More strength +there—down with the lever—smash something, tear the +belts, but get them tight—now then, stand clear, on with +the steam;—and the belts slip away as if nothing held +them. Men begin to look queer; the circle of quidnuncs make +sage remarks. Once more—no use. I begin to know +I ought to feel sheepish and beat, but somehow I feel cocky +instead. I laugh and say, “Well, I am bound to break +something down”—and suddenly see. “Oho, +there’s the place; get weight on there, and the belt +won’t slip.” With much labour, on go the belts +again. “Now then, a spar thro’ there and six +men’s weight on; mind you’re not carried +away.”—“Ay, ay, sir.” But evidently +no one believes in the plan. “Hurrah, round she +goes—stick to your spar. All right, shut off +steam.” And the difficulty is vanquished.</p> +<p>‘This or such as this (not always quite so bad) occurs +hour after hour, while five hundred tons of coal are rattling +down into the holds and bunkers, riveters are making their +infernal row all round, and riggers bend the sails and fit the +rigging:—a sort of Pandemonium, it appeared to young Mrs. +Newall, who was here on Monday and half-choked with guano; but it +suits the likes o’ me.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘S. S. <i>Elba</i>, River +Mersey: May 17.</p> +<p>‘We are delayed in the river by some of the ship’s +papers not being ready. Such a scene at the dock +gates. Not a sailor will join till the last moment; and +then, just as the ship forges ahead through the narrow pass, beds +and baggage fly on board, the men half tipsy clutch at the +rigging, the captain swears, the women scream and sob, the crowd +cheer and laugh, while one or two pretty little girls stand still +and cry outright, regardless of all eyes.</p> +<p>‘These two days of comparative peace have quite set me +on my legs again. I was getting worn and weary with anxiety +and work. As usual I have been delighted with my +shipwrights. I gave them some beer on Saturday, making a +short oration. To-day when they went ashore and I came on +board, they gave three cheers, whether for me or the ship I +hardly know, but I had just bid them good-bye, and the ship was +out of hail; but I was startled and hardly liked to claim the +compliment by acknowledging it.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘S. S. <i>Elba</i>: May +25.</p> +<p>‘My first intentions of a long journal have been fairly +frustrated by sea-sickness. On Tuesday last about noon we +started from the Mersey in very dirty weather, and were hardly +out of the river when we met a gale from the south-west and a +heavy sea, both right in our teeth; and the poor <i>Elba</i> had +a sad shaking. Had I not been very sea-sick, the sight +would have been exciting enough, as I sat wrapped in my oilskins +on the bridge; [but] in spite of all my efforts to talk, to eat, +and to grin, I soon collapsed into imbecility; and I was heartily +thankful towards evening to find myself in bed.</p> +<p>‘Next morning, I fancied it grew quieter and, as I +listened, heard, “Let go the anchor,” whereon I +concluded we had run into Holyhead Harbour, as was indeed the +case. All that day we lay in Holyhead, but I could neither +read nor write nor draw. The captain of another steamer +which had put in came on board, and we all went for a walk on the +hill; and in the evening there was an exchange of presents. +We gave some tobacco I think, and received a cat, two pounds of +fresh butter, a Cumberland ham, <i>Westward Ho</i>! and +Thackeray’s <i>English Humourists</i>. I was +astonished at receiving two such fair books from the captain of a +little coasting screw. Our captain said he [the captain of +the screw] had plenty of money, five or six hundred a year at +least.—“What in the world makes him go rolling about +in such a craft, then?”—“Why, I fancy +he’s reckless; he’s desperate in love with that girl +I mentioned, and she won’t look at him.” Our +honest, fat, old captain says this very grimly in his thick, +broad voice.</p> +<p>‘My head won’t stand much writing yet, so I will +run up and take a look at the blue night sky off the coast of +Portugal.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘May 26.</p> +<p>‘A nice lad of some two and twenty, A— by name, +goes out in a nondescript capacity as part purser, part telegraph +clerk, part generally useful person. A— was a great +comfort during the miseries [of the gale]; for when with a dead +head wind and a heavy sea, plates, books, papers, stomachs were +being rolled about in sad confusion, we generally managed to lie +on our backs, and grin, and try discordant staves of the +<i>Flowers of the Forest</i> and the <i>Low-backed Car</i>. +We could sing and laugh, when we could do nothing else; though +A— was ready to swear after each fit was past, that that +was the first time he had felt anything, and at this moment would +declare in broad Scotch that he’d never been sick at all, +qualifying the oath with “except for a minute now and +then.” He brought a cornet-à-piston to +practice on, having had three weeks’ instructions on that +melodious instrument; and if you could hear the horrid sounds +that come! especially at heavy rolls. When I hint he is not +improving, there comes a confession: “I don’t feel +quite right yet, you see!” But he blows away +manfully, and in self-defence I try to roar the tune louder.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘11:30 <span +class="smcap">p.m.</span></p> +<p>‘Long past Cape St. Vincent now. We went within +about 400 yards of the cliffs and light-house in a calm +moonlight, with porpoises springing from the sea, the men +crooning long ballads as they lay idle on the forecastle and the +sails flapping uncertain on the yards. As we passed, there +came a sudden breeze from land, hot and heavy scented; and now as +I write its warm rich flavour contrasts strongly with the salt +air we have been breathing.</p> +<p>‘I paced the deck with H—, the second mate, and in +the quiet night drew a confession that he was engaged to be +married, and gave him a world of good advice. He is a very +nice, active, little fellow, with a broad Scotch tongue and +“dirty, little rascal” appearance. He had a sad +disappointment at starting. Having been second mate on the +last voyage, when the first mate was discharged, he took charge +of the <i>Elba</i> all the time she was in port, and of course +looked forward to being chief mate this trip. Liddell +promised him the post. He had not authority to do this; and +when Newall heard of it, he appointed another man. Fancy +poor H— having told all the men and most of all, his +sweetheart. But more remains behind; for when it came to +signing articles, it turned out that O—, the new first +mate, had not a certificate which allowed him to have a second +mate. Then came rather an affecting scene. For +H— proposed to sign as chief (he having the necessary +higher certificate) but to act as second for the lower +wages. At first O— would not give in, but offered to +go as second. But our brave little H— said, no: +“The owners wished Mr. O— to be chief mate, and chief +mate he should be.” So he carried the day, signed as +chief and acts as second. Shakespeare and Byron are his +favourite books. I walked into Byron a little, but can well +understand his stirring up a rough, young sailor’s +romance. I lent him <i>Westward Ho</i> from the cabin; but +to my astonishment he did not care much for it; he said it smelt +of the shilling railway library; perhaps I had praised it too +highly. Scott is his standard for novels. I am very +happy to find good taste by no means confined to gentlemen, +H— having no pretensions to that title. He is a man +after my own heart.</p> +<p>‘Then I came down to the cabin and heard young +A—’s schemes for the future. His highest +picture is a commission in the Prince of Vizianagram’s +irregular horse. His eldest brother is tutor to his +Highness’s children, and grand vizier, and magistrate, and +on his Highness’s household staff, and seems to be one of +those Scotch adventurers one meets with and hears of in queer +berths—raising cavalry, building palaces, and using some +petty Eastern king’s long purse with their long Scotch +heads.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘Off Bona; June 4.</p> +<p>‘I read your letter carefully, leaning back in a Maltese +boat to present the smallest surface of my body to a grilling +sun, and sailing from the <i>Elba</i> to Cape Hamrah about three +miles distant. How we fried and sighed! At last, we +reached land under Fort Genova, and I was carried ashore +pick-a-back, and plucked the first flower I saw for Annie. +It was a strange scene, far more novel than I had imagined: the +high, steep banks covered with rich, spicy vegetation of which I +hardly knew one plant. The dwarf palm with fan-like leaves, +growing about two feet high, formed the staple of the +verdure. As we brushed through them, the gummy leaves of a +cistus stuck to the clothes; and with its small white flower and +yellow heart, stood for our English dog-rose. In place of +heather, we had myrtle and lentisque with leaves somewhat +similar. That large bulb with long flat leaves? Do +not touch it if your hands are cut; the Arabs use it as blisters +for their horses. Is that the same sort? No, take +that one up; it is the bulb of a dwarf palm, each layer of the +onion peels off, brown and netted, like the outside of a +cocoa-nut. It is a clever plant that; from the leaves we +get a vegetable horsehair;—and eat the bottom of the centre +spike. All the leaves you pull have the same aromatic +scent. But here a little patch of cleared ground shows old +friends, who seem to cling by abused civilisation:—fine, +hardy thistles, one of them bright yellow, though;—honest, +Scotch-looking, large daisies or gowans;—potatoes here and +there, looking but sickly; and dark sturdy fig-trees looking cool +and at their ease in the burning sun.</p> +<p>‘Here we are at Fort Genova, crowning the little point, +a small old building, due to my old Genoese acquaintance who +fought and traded bravely once upon a time. A broken cannon +of theirs forms the threshold; and through a dark, low arch, we +enter upon broad terraces sloping to the centre, from which rain +water may collect and run into that well. Large-breeched +French troopers lounge about and are most civil; and the whole +party sit down to breakfast in a little white-washed room, from +the door of which the long, mountain coastline and the sparkling +sea show of an impossible blue through the openings of a +white-washed rampart. I try a sea-egg, one of those prickly +fellows—sea-urchins, they are called sometimes; the shell +is of a lovely purple, and when opened, there are rays of yellow +adhering to the inside; these I eat, but they are very fishy.</p> +<p>‘We are silent and shy of one another, and soon go out +to watch while turbaned, blue-breeched, barelegged Arabs dig +holes for the land telegraph posts on the following principle: +one man takes a pick and bangs lazily at the hard earth; when a +little is loosened, his mate with a small spade lifts it on one +side; and <i>da capo</i>. They have regular features and +look quite in place among the palms. Our English workmen +screw the earthenware insulators on the posts, strain the wire, +and order Arabs about by the generic term of Johnny. I find +W— has nothing for me to do; and that in fact no one has +anything to do. Some instruments for testing have stuck at +Lyons, some at Cagliari; and nothing can be done—or at any +rate, is done. I wander about, thinking of you and staring +at big, green grasshoppers—locusts, some people call +them—and smelling the rich brushwood. There was +nothing for a pencil to sketch, and I soon got tired of this +work, though I have paid willingly much money for far less +strange and lovely sights.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘Off Cape Spartivento: June +8.</p> +<p>‘At two this morning, we left Cagliari; at five cast +anchor here. I got up and began preparing for the final +trial; and shortly afterwards everyone else of note on board went +ashore to make experiments on the state of the cable, leaving me +with the prospect of beginning to lift at 12 o’clock. +I was not ready by that time; but the experiments were not +concluded and moreover the cable was found to be imbedded some +four or five feet in sand, so that the boat could not bring off +the end. At three, Messrs. Liddell, &c., came on board +in good spirits, having found two wires good or in such a state +as permitted messages to be transmitted freely. The boat +now went to grapple for the cable some way from shore while the +<i>Elba</i> towed a small lateen craft which was to take back the +consul to Cagliari some distance on its way. On our return +we found the boat had been unsuccessful; she was allowed to drop +astern, while we grappled for the cable in the <i>Elba</i> +[without more success]. The coast is a low mountain range +covered with brushwood or heather—pools of water and a +sandy beach at their feet. I have not yet been ashore, my +hands having been very full all day.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 9.</p> +<p>‘Grappling for the cable outside the bank had been voted +too uncertain; [and the day was spent in] efforts to pull the +cable off through the sand which has accumulated over it. +By getting the cable tight on to the boat, and letting the swell +pitch her about till it got slack, and then tightening again with +blocks and pulleys, we managed to get out from the beach towards +the ship at the rate of about twenty yards an hour. When +they had got about 100 yards from shore, we ran round in the +<i>Elba</i> to try and help them, letting go the anchor in the +shallowest possible water, this was about sunset. Suddenly +someone calls out he sees the cable at the bottom: there it was +sure enough, apparently wriggling about as the waves +rippled. Great excitement; still greater when we find our +own anchor is foul of it and has been the means of bringing it to +light. We let go a grapnel, get the cable clear of the +anchor on to the grapnel—the captain in an agony lest we +should drift ashore meanwhile—hand the grappling line into +the big boat, steam out far enough, and anchor again. A +little more work and one end of the cable is up over the bows +round my drum. I go to my engine and we start hauling +in. All goes pretty well, but it is quite dark. Lamps +are got at last, and men arranged. We go on for a quarter +of a mile or so from shore and then stop at about half-past nine +with orders to be up at three. Grand work at last! A +number of the <i>Saturday Review</i> here; it reads so hot and +feverish, so tomblike and unhealthy, in the midst of dear +Nature’s hills and sea, with good wholesome work to +do. Pray that all go well to-morrow.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 10.</p> +<p>‘Thank heaven for a most fortunate day. At three +o’clock this morning in a damp, chill mist all hands were +roused to work. With a small delay, for one or two +improvements I had seen to be necessary last night, the engine +started and since that time I do not think there has been half an +hour’s stoppage. A rope to splice, a block to change, +a wheel to oil, an old rusted anchor to disengage from the cable +which brought it up, these have been our only obstructions. +Sixty, seventy, eighty, a hundred, a hundred and twenty +revolutions at last, my little engine tears away. The even +black rope comes straight out of the blue heaving water: passes +slowly round an open-hearted, good-tempered looking pulley, five +feet diameter; aft past a vicious nipper, to bring all up should +anything go wrong; through a gentle guide; on to a huge bluff +drum, who wraps him round his body and says “Come you +must,” as plain as drum can speak: the chattering pauls say +“I’ve got him, I’ve got him, he can’t get +back:” whilst black cable, much slacker and easier in mind +and body, is taken by a slim V-pulley and passed down into the +huge hold, where half a dozen men put him comfortably to bed +after his exertion in rising from his long bath. In good +sooth, it is one of the strangest sights I know to see that black +fellow rising up so steadily in the midst of the blue sea. +We are more than half way to the place where we expect the fault; +and already the one wire, supposed previously to be quite bad +near the African coast, can be spoken through. I am very +glad I am here, for my machines are my own children and I look on +their little failings with a parent’s eye and lead them +into the path of duty with gentleness and firmness. I am +naturally in good spirits, but keep very quiet, for misfortunes +may arise at any instant; moreover to-morrow my paying-out +apparatus will be wanted should all go well, and that will be +another nervous operation. Fifteen miles are safely in; but +no one knows better than I do that nothing is done till all is +done.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 11.</p> +<p>‘9 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>—We have reached +the splice supposed to be faulty, and no fault has been +found. The two men learned in electricity, L— and +W—, squabble where the fault is.</p> +<p>‘<i>Evening</i>.—A weary day in a hot broiling +sun; no air. After the experiments, L— said the fault +might be ten miles ahead: by that time, we should be according to +a chart in about a thousand fathoms of water—rather more +than a mile. It was most difficult to decide whether to go +on or not. I made preparations for a heavy pull, set small +things to rights and went to sleep. About four in the +afternoon, Mr. Liddell decided to proceed, and we are now (at +seven) grinding it in at the rate of a mile and three-quarters +per hour, which appears a grand speed to us. If the +paying-out only works well! I have just thought of a great +improvement in it; I can’t apply it this time, +however.—The sea is of an oily calm, and a perfect fleet of +brigs and ships surrounds us, their sails hardly filling in the +lazy breeze. The sun sets behind the dim coast of the Isola +San Pietro, the coast of Sardinia high and rugged becomes softer +and softer in the distance, while to the westward still the +isolated rock of Toro springs from the horizon.—It would +amuse you to see how cool (in head) and jolly everybody is. +A testy word now and then shows the wires are strained a little, +but everyone laughs and makes his little jokes as if it were all +in fun: yet we are all as much in earnest as the most earnest of +the earnest bastard German school or demonstrative of +Frenchmen. I enjoy it very much.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 12.</p> +<p>‘5.30 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>—Out of sight +of land: about thirty nautical miles in the hold; the wind rising +a little; experiments being made for a fault, while the engine +slowly revolves to keep us hanging at the same spot: depth +supposed about a mile. The machinery has behaved +admirably. Oh! that the paying-out were over! The new +machinery there is but rough, meant for an experiment in shallow +water, and here we are in a mile of water.</p> +<p>‘6.30.—I have made my calculations and find the +new paying-out gear cannot possibly answer at this depth, some +portion would give way. Luckily, I have brought the old +things with me and am getting them rigged up as fast as may +be. Bad news from the cable. Number four has given in +some portion of the last ten miles: the fault in number three is +still at the bottom of the sea: number two is now the only good +wire and the hold is getting in such a mess, through keeping bad +bits out and cutting for splicing and testing, that there will be +great risk in paying out. The cable is somewhat strained in +its ascent from one mile below us; what it will be when we get to +two miles is a problem we may have to determine.</p> +<p>‘9 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>—A most +provoking unsatisfactory day. We have done nothing. +The wind and sea have both risen. Too little notice has +been given to the telegraphists who accompany this expedition; +they had to leave all their instruments at Lyons in order to +arrive at Bona in time; our tests are therefore of the roughest, +and no one really knows where the faults are. Mr. L— +in the morning lost much time; then he told us, after we had been +inactive for about eight hours, that the fault in number three +was within six miles; and at six o’clock in the evening, +when all was ready for a start to pick up these six miles, he +comes and says there must be a fault about thirty miles from +Bona! By this time it was too late to begin paying out +to-day, and we must lie here moored in a thousand fathoms till +light to-morrow morning. The ship pitches a good deal, but +the wind is going down.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 13, Sunday.</p> +<p>‘The wind has not gone down, however. It now (at +10.30) blows a pretty stiff gale, the sea has also risen; and the +<i>Elba’s</i> bows rise and fall about 9 feet. We +make twelve pitches to the minute, and the poor cable must feel +very sea-sick by this time. We are quite unable to do +anything, and continue riding at anchor in one thousand fathoms, +the engines going constantly so as to keep the ship’s bows +up to the cable, which by this means hangs nearly vertical and +sustains no strain but that caused by its own weight and the +pitching of the vessel. We were all up at four, but the +weather entirely forbade work for to-day, so some went to bed and +most lay down, making up our leeway as we nautically term our +loss of sleep. I must say Liddell is a fine fellow and +keeps his patience and temper wonderfully; and yet how he does +fret and fume about trifles at home! This wind has blown +now for 36 hours, and yet we have telegrams from Bona to say the +sea there is as calm as a mirror. It makes one laugh to +remember one is still tied to the shore. Click, click, +click, the pecker is at work: I wonder what Herr P— says to +Herr L—,—tests, tests, tests, nothing more. +This will be a very anxious day.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 14.</p> +<p>‘Another day of fatal inaction.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 15.</p> +<p>‘9.30.—The wind has gone down a deal; but even now +there are doubts whether we shall start to-day. When shall +I get back to you?</p> +<p>‘9 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>—Four miles from +land. Our run has been successful and eventless. Now +the work is nearly over I feel a little out of spirits—why, +I should be puzzled to say—mere wantonness, or reaction +perhaps after suspense.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 16.</p> +<p>‘Up this morning at three, coupled my self-acting gear +to the brake and had the satisfaction of seeing it pay out the +last four miles in very good style. With one or two little +improvements, I hope to make it a capital thing. The end +has just gone ashore in two boats, three out of four wires +good. Thus ends our first expedition. By some odd +chance a <i>Times</i> of June the 7th has found its way on board +through the agency of a wretched old peasant who watches the end +of the line here. A long account of breakages in the +Atlantic trial trip. To-night we grapple for the heavy +cable, eight tons to the mile. I long to have a tug at him; +he may puzzle me, and though misfortunes or rather difficulties +are a bore at the time, life when working with cables is tame +without them.</p> +<p>‘2 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>—Hurrah, he is +hooked, the big fellow, almost at the first cast. He hangs +under our bows looking so huge and imposing that I could find it +in my heart to be afraid of him.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 17.</p> +<p>‘We went to a little bay called Chia, where a +fresh-water stream falls into the sea, and took in water. +This is rather a long operation, so I went a walk up the valley +with Mr. Liddell. The coast here consists of rocky +mountains 800 to 1,000 feet high covered with shrubs of a +brilliant green. On landing our first amusement was +watching the hundreds of large fish who lazily swam in shoals +about the river; the big canes on the further side hold +numberless tortoises, we are told, but see none, for just now +they prefer taking a siesta. A little further on, and what +is this with large pink flowers in such abundance?—the +oleander in full flower. At first I fear to pluck them, +thinking they must be cultivated and valuable; but soon the banks +show a long line of thick tall shrubs, one mass of glorious pink +and green. Set these in a little valley, framed by +mountains whose rocks gleam out blue and purple colours such as +pre-Raphaelites only dare attempt, shining out hard and +weird-like amongst the clumps of castor-oil plants, cistus, arbor +vitæ and many other evergreens, whose names, alas! I know +not; the cistus is brown now, the rest all deep or brilliant +green. Large herds of cattle browse on the baked deposit at +the foot of these large crags. One or two half-savage +herdsmen in sheepskin kilts, &c., ask for cigars; partridges +whirr up on either side of us; pigeons coo and nightingales sing +amongst the blooming oleander. We get six sheep and many +fowls, too, from the priest of the small village; and then run +back to Spartivento and make preparations for the morning.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 18.</p> +<p>‘The big cable is stubborn and will not behave like his +smaller brother. The gear employed to take him off the drum +is not strong enough; he gets slack on the drum and plays the +mischief. Luckily for my own conscience, the gear I had +wanted was negatived by Mr. Newall. Mr. Liddell does not +exactly blame me, but he says we might have had a silver pulley +cheaper than the cost of this delay. He has telegraphed for +more men to Cagliari, to try to pull the cable off the drum into +the hold, by hand. I look as comfortable as I can, but feel +as if people were blaming me. I am trying my best to get +something rigged which may help us; I wanted a little difficulty, +and feel much better.—The short length we have picked up +was covered at places with beautiful sprays of coral, twisted and +twined with shells of those small, fairy animals we saw in the +aquarium at home; poor little things, they died at once, with +their little bells and delicate bright tints.</p> +<p>‘12 <i>o’clock</i>.—Hurrah, victory! for the +present anyhow. Whilst in our first dejection, I thought I +saw a place where a flat roller would remedy the whole +misfortune; but a flat roller at Cape Spartivento, hard, easily +unshipped, running freely! There was a grooved pulley used +for the paying-out machinery with a spindle wheel, which might +suit me. I filled him up with tarry spunyarn, nailed sheet +copper round him, bent some parts in the fire; and we are +paying-in without more trouble now. You would think some +one would praise me; no, no more praise than blame before; +perhaps now they think better of me, though.</p> +<p>‘10 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>—We have gone +on very comfortably for nearly six miles. An hour and a +half was spent washing down; for along with many coloured polypi, +from corals, shells and insects, the big cable brings up much mud +and rust, and makes a fishy smell by no means pleasant: the +bottom seems to teem with life.—But now we are startled by +a most unpleasant, grinding noise; which appeared at first to +come from the large low pulley, but when the engines stopped, the +noise continued; and we now imagine it is something slipping down +the cable, and the pulley but acts as sounding-board to the big +fiddle. Whether it is only an anchor or one of the two +other cables, we know not. We hope it is not the cable just +laid down.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 19.</p> +<p>‘10 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>—All our alarm +groundless, it would appear: the odd noise ceased after a time, +and there was no mark sufficiently strong on the large cable to +warrant the suspicion that we had cut another line through. +I stopped up on the look-out till three in the morning, which +made 23 hours between sleep and sleep. One goes dozing +about, though, most of the day, for it is only when something +goes wrong that one has to look alive. Hour after hour, I +stand on the forecastle-head, picking off little specimens of +polypi and coral, or lie on the saloon deck reading back numbers +of the <i>Times</i>—till something hitches, and then all is +hurly-burly once more. There are awnings all along the +ship, and a most ancient, fish-like smell beneath.</p> +<p>‘1 <i>o’clock</i>.—Suddenly a great strain +in only 95 fathoms of water—belts surging and general +dismay; grapnels being thrown out in the hope of finding what +holds the cable.—Should it prove the young cable! We +are apparently crossing its path—not the working one, but +the lost child; Mr. Liddell <i>would</i> start the big one first +though it was laid first: he wanted to see the job done, and +meant to leave us to the small one unaided by his presence.</p> +<p>‘3.30.—Grapnel caught something, lost it again; it +left its marks on the prongs. Started lifting gear again; +and after hauling in some 50 fathoms—grunt, grunt, +grunt—we hear the other cable slipping down our big one, +playing the selfsame tune we heard last night—louder, +however.</p> +<p>‘10 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>—The pull on +the deck engines became harder and harder. I got steam up +in a boiler on deck, and another little engine starts hauling at +the grapnel. I wonder if there ever was such a scene of +confusion: Mr. Liddell and W— and the captain all giving +orders contradictory, &c., on the forecastle; D—, the +foreman of our men, the mates, &c., following the example of +our superiors; the ship’s engine and boilers below, a +50-horse engine on deck, a boiler 14 feet long on deck beside it, +a little steam winch tearing round; a dozen Italians (20 have +come to relieve our hands, the men we telegraphed for to +Cagliari) hauling at the rope; wiremen, sailors, in the crevices +left by ropes and machinery; everything that could swear +swearing—I found myself swearing like a trooper at +last. We got the unknown difficulty within ten fathoms of +the surface; but then the forecastle got frightened that, if it +was the small cable which we had got hold of, we should certainly +break it by continuing the tremendous and increasing +strain. So at last Mr. Liddell decided to stop; cut the big +cable, buoying its end; go back to our pleasant watering-place at +Chia, take more water and start lifting the small cable. +The end of the large one has even now regained its sandy bed; and +three buoys—one to grapnel foul of the supposed small +cable, two to the big cable—are dipping about on the +surface. One more—a flag-buoy—will soon follow, +and then straight for shore.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 20.</p> +<p>‘It is an ill-wind, &c. I have an unexpected +opportunity of forwarding this engineering letter; for the craft +which brought out our Italian sailors must return to Cagliari +to-night, as the little cable will take us nearly to Galita, and +the Italian skipper could hardly find his way from thence. +To-day—Sunday—not much rest. Mr. Liddell is at +Spartivento telegraphing. We are at Chia, and shall shortly +go to help our boat’s crew in getting the small cable on +board. We dropped them some time since in order that they +might dig it out of the sand as far as possible.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 21.</p> +<p>‘Yesterday—Sunday as it was—all hands were +kept at work all day, coaling, watering, and making a futile +attempt to pull the cable from the shore on board through the +sand. This attempt was rather silly after the experience we +had gained at Cape Spartivento. This morning we grappled, +hooked the cable at once, and have made an excellent start. +Though I have called this the small cable, it is much larger than +the Bona one.—Here comes a break down and a bad one.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 22.</p> +<p>‘We got over it, however; but it is a warning to me that +my future difficulties will arise from parts wearing out. +Yesterday the cable was often a lovely sight, coming out of the +water one large incrustation of delicate, net-like corals and +long, white curling shells. No portion of the dirty black +wires was visible; instead we had a garland of soft pink with +little scarlet sprays and white enamel intermixed. All was +fragile, however, and could hardly be secured in safety; and +inexorable iron crushed the tender leaves to atoms.—This +morning at the end of my watch, about 4 o’clock, we came to +the buoys, proving our anticipations right concerning the +crossing of the cables. I went to bed for four hours, and +on getting up, found a sad mess. A tangle of the six-wire +cable hung to the grapnel which had been left buoyed, and the +small cable had parted and is lost for the present. Our +hauling of the other day must have done the mischief.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 23.</p> +<p>‘We contrived to get the two ends of the large cable and +to pick the short end up. The long end, leading us seaward, +was next put round the drum and a mile of it picked up; but then, +fearing another tangle, the end was cut and buoyed, and we +returned to grapple for the three-wire cable. All this is +very tiresome for me. The buoying and dredging are managed +entirely by W—, who has had much experience in this sort of +thing; so I have not enough to do and get very homesick. At +noon the wind freshened and the sea rose so high that we had to +run for land and are once more this evening anchored at Chia.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 24.</p> +<p>‘The whole day spent in dredging without success. +This operation consists in allowing the ship to drift slowly +across the line where you expect the cable to be, while at the +end of a long rope, fast either to the bow or stern, a grapnel +drags along the ground. This grapnel is a small anchor, +made like four pot-hooks tied back to back. When the rope +gets taut, the ship is stopped and the grapnel hauled up to the +surface in the hopes of finding the cable on its prongs.—I +am much discontented with myself for idly lounging about and +reading <i>Westward Ho</i>! for the second time, instead of +taking to electricity or picking up nautical information. I +am uncommonly idle. The sea is not quite so rough, but the +weather is squally and the rain comes in frequent gusts.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 25.</p> +<p>‘To-day about 1 o’clock we hooked the three-wire +cable, buoyed the long sea end, and picked up the short [or +shore] end. Now it is dark and we must wait for morning +before lifting the buoy we lowered to-day and proceeding +seawards.—The depth of water here is about 600 feet, the +height of a respectable English hill; our fishing line was about +a quarter of a mile long. It blows pretty fresh, and there +is a great deal of sea.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘26th.</p> +<p>‘This morning it came on to blow so heavily that it was +impossible to take up our buoy. The <i>Elba</i> recommenced +rolling in true Baltic style and towards noon we ran for +land.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘27th, Sunday.</p> +<p>‘This morning was a beautiful calm. We reached the +buoys at about 4.30 and commenced picking up at 6.30. +Shortly a new cause of anxiety arose. Kinks came up in +great quantities, about thirty in the hour. To have a true +conception of a kink, you must see one: it is a loop drawn tight, +all the wires get twisted and the gutta-percha inside pushed +out. These much diminish the value of the cable, as they +must all be cut out, the gutta-percha made good, and the cable +spliced. They arise from the cable having been badly laid +down so that it forms folds and tails at the bottom of the +sea. These kinks have another disadvantage: they weaken the +cable very much.—At about six o’clock [<span +class="smcap">p.m.</span>] we had some twelve miles lifted, when +I went to the bows; the kinks were exceedingly tight and were +giving way in a most alarming manner. I got a cage rigged +up to prevent the end (if it broke) from hurting anyone, and sat +down on the bowsprit, thinking I should describe kinks to +Annie:—suddenly I saw a great many coils and kinks +altogether at the surface. I jumped to the gutta-percha +pipe, by blowing through which the signal is given to stop the +engine. I blow, but the engine does not stop; +again—no answer: the coils and kinks jam in the bows and I +rush aft shouting stop. Too late: the cable had parted and +must lie in peace at the bottom. Someone had pulled the +gutta-percha tube across a bare part of the steam pipe and melted +it. It had been used hundreds of times in the last few days +and gave no symptoms of failing. I believe the cable must +have gone at any rate; however, since it went in my watch and +since I might have secured the tubing more strongly, I feel +rather sad. . . .</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June 28.</p> +<p>‘Since I could not go to Annie I took down Shakespeare, +and by the time I had finished <i>Antony and Cleopatra</i>, read +the second half of <i>Troilus</i> and got some way in +<i>Coriolanus</i>, I felt it was childish to regret the accident +had happened in my watch, and moreover I felt myself not much to +blame in the tubing matter—it had been torn down, it had +not fallen down; so I went to bed, and slept without fretting, +and woke this morning in the same good mood—for which thank +you and our friend Shakespeare. I am happy to say Mr. +Liddell said the loss of the cable did not much matter; though +this would have been no consolation had I felt myself to +blame.—This morning we have grappled for and found another +length of small cable which Mr. — dropped in 100 fathoms of +water. If this also gets full of kinks, we shall probably +have to cut it after 10 miles or so, or more probably still it +will part of its own free will or weight.</p> +<p>‘10 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>—This second +length of three-wire cable soon got into the same condition as +its fellow—i.e. came up twenty kinks an hour—and +after seven miles were in, parted on the pulley over the bows at +one of the said kinks; during my watch again, but this time no +earthly power could have saved it. I had taken all manner +of precautions to prevent the end doing any damage when the smash +came, for come I knew it must. We now return to the +six-wire cable. As I sat watching the cable to-night, large +phosphorescent globes kept rolling from it and fading in the +black water.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘29th.</p> +<p>‘To-day we returned to the buoy we had left at the end +of the six-wire cable, and after much trouble from a series of +tangles, got a fair start at noon. You will easily believe +a tangle of iron rope inch and a half diameter is not easy to +unravel, especially with a ton or so hanging to the ends. +It is now eight o’clock and we have about six and a half +miles safe: it becomes very exciting, however, for the kinks are +coming fast and furious.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘July 2.</p> +<p>‘Twenty-eight miles safe in the hold. The ship is +now so deep, that the men are to be turned out of their aft hold, +and the remainder coiled there; so the good <i>Elba’s</i> +nose need not burrow too far into the waves. There can only +be about 10 or 12 miles more, but these weigh 80 or 100 tons.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘July 5.</p> +<p>‘Our first mate was much hurt in securing a buoy on the +evening of the 2nd. As interpreter [with the Italians] I am +useful in all these cases; but for no fortune would I be a doctor +to witness these scenes continually. Pain is a terrible +thing.—Our work is done: the whole of the six-wire cable +has been recovered; only a small part of the three-wire, but that +wire was bad and, owing to its twisted state, the value +small. We may therefore be said to have been very +successful.’</p> +<h3>II.</h3> +<p>I have given this cruise nearly in full. From the notes, +unhappily imperfect, of two others, I will take only specimens; +for in all there are features of similarity and it is possible to +have too much even of submarine telegraphy and the romance of +engineering. And first from the cruise of 1859 in the Greek +Islands and to Alexandria, take a few traits, incidents and +pictures.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘May 10, 1859.</p> +<p>‘We had a fair wind and we did very well, seeing a +little bit of Cerig or Cythera, and lots of turtle-doves +wandering about over the sea and perching, tired and timid, in +the rigging of our little craft. Then Falconera, Antimilo, +and Milo, topped with huge white clouds, barren, deserted, rising +bold and mysterious from the blue, chafing sea;—Argentiera, +Siphano, Scapho, Paros, Antiparos, and late at night Syra +itself. <i>Adam Bede</i> in one hand, a sketch-book in the +other, lying on rugs under an awning, I enjoyed a very pleasant +day.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘May 14.</p> +<p>‘Syra is semi-eastern. The pavement, huge +shapeless blocks sloping to a central gutter; from this bare +two-storied houses, sometimes plaster many coloured, sometimes +rough-hewn marble, rise, dirty and ill-finished to straight, +plain, flat roofs; shops guiltless of windows, with signs in +Greek letters; dogs, Greeks in blue, baggy, Zouave breeches and a +fez, a few narghilehs and a sprinkling of the ordinary +continental shopboys.—In the evening I tried one more walk +in Syra with A—, but in vain endeavoured to amuse myself or +to spend money; the first effort resulting in singing +<i>Doodah</i> to a passing Greek or two, the second in spending, +no, in making A— spend, threepence on coffee for three.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘May 16.</p> +<p>‘On coming on deck, I found we were at anchor in Canea +bay, and saw one of the most lovely sights man could +witness. Far on either hand stretch bold mountain capes, +Spada and Maleka, tender in colour, bold in outline; rich sunny +levels lie beneath them, framed by the azure sea. Right in +front, a dark brown fortress girdles white mosques and +minarets. Rich and green, our mountain capes here join to +form a setting for the town, in whose dark walls—still +darker—open a dozen high-arched caves in which the huge +Venetian galleys used to lie in wait. High above all, +higher and higher yet, up into the firmament, range after range +of blue and snow-capped mountains. I was bewildered and +amazed, having heard nothing of this great beauty. The town +when entered is quite eastern. The streets are formed of +open stalls under the first story, in which squat tailors, cooks, +sherbet vendors and the like, busy at their work or smoking +narghilehs. Cloths stretched from house to house keep out +the sun. Mules rattle through the crowd; curs yelp between +your legs; negroes are as hideous and bright clothed as usual; +grave Turks with long chibouques continue to march solemnly +without breaking them; a little Arab in one dirty rag pokes fun +at two splendid little Turks with brilliant fezzes; wiry +mountaineers in dirty, full, white kilts, shouldering long guns +and one hand on their pistols, stalk untamed past a dozen Turkish +soldiers, who look sheepish and brutal in worn cloth jacket and +cotton trousers. A headless, wingless lion of St. Mark +still stands upon a gate, and has left the mark of his strong +clutch. Of ancient times when Crete was Crete, not a trace +remains; save perhaps in the full, well-cut nostril and firm +tread of that mountaineer, and I suspect that even his sires were +Albanians, mere outer barbarians.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘May 17.</p> +<p>I spent the day at the little station where the cable was +landed, which has apparently been first a Venetian monastery and +then a Turkish mosque. At any rate the big dome is very +cool, and the little ones hold [our electric] batteries +capitally. A handsome young Bashibazouk guards it, and a +still handsomer mountaineer is the servant; so I draw them and +the monastery and the hill, till I’m black in the face with +heat and come on board to hear the Canea cable is still bad.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘May 23.</p> +<p>‘We arrived in the morning at the east end of Candia, +and had a glorious scramble over the mountains which seem built +of adamant. Time has worn away the softer portions of the +rock, only leaving sharp jagged edges of steel. Sea eagles +soaring above our heads; old tanks, ruins, and desolation at our +feet. The ancient Arsinoe stood here; a few blocks of +marble with the cross attest the presence of Venetian Christians; +but now—the desolation of desolations. Mr. Liddell +and I separated from the rest, and when we had found a sure bay +for the cable, had a tremendous lively scramble back to the +boat. These are the bits of our life which I enjoy, which +have some poetry, some grandeur in them.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘May 29 (?).</p> +<p>‘Yesterday we ran round to the new harbour [of +Alexandria], landed the shore end of the cable close to +Cleopatra’s bath, and made a very satisfactory start about +one in the afternoon. We had scarcely gone 200 yards when I +noticed that the cable ceased to run out, and I wondered why the +ship had stopped. People ran aft to tell me not to put such +a strain on the cable; I answered indignantly that there was no +strain; and suddenly it broke on every one in the ship at once +that we were aground. Here was a nice mess. A violent +scirocco blew from the land; making one’s skin feel as if +it belonged to some one else and didn’t fit, making the +horizon dim and yellow with fine sand, oppressing every sense and +raising the thermometer 20 degrees in an hour, but making calm +water round us which enabled the ship to lie for the time in +safety. The wind might change at any moment, since the +scirocco was only accidental; and at the first wave from seaward +bump would go the poor ship, and there would [might] be an end of +our voyage. The captain, without waiting to sound, began to +make an effort to put the ship over what was supposed to be a +sandbank; but by the time soundings were made, this was found to +be impossible, and he had only been jamming the poor <i>Elba</i> +faster on a rock. Now every effort was made to get her +astern, an anchor taken out, a rope brought to a winch I had for +the cable, and the engines backed; but all in vain. A small +Turkish Government steamer, which is to be our consort, came to +our assistance, but of course very slowly, and much time was +occupied before we could get a hawser to her. I could do no +good after having made a chart of the soundings round the ship, +and went at last on to the bridge to sketch the scene. But +at that moment the strain from the winch and a jerk from the +Turkish steamer got off the boat, after we had been some hours +aground. The carpenter reported that she had made only two +inches of water in one compartment; the cable was still uninjured +astern, and our spirits rose; when, will you believe it? after +going a short distance astern, the pilot ran us once more fast +aground on what seemed to me nearly the same spot. The very +same scene was gone through as on the first occasion, and dark +came on whilst the wind shifted, and we were still aground. +Dinner was served up, but poor Mr. Liddell could eat very little; +and bump, bump, grind, grind, went the ship fifteen or sixteen +times as we sat at dinner. The slight sea, however, did +enable us to bump off. This morning we appear not to have +suffered in any way; but a sea is rolling in, which a few hours +ago would have settled the poor old <i>Elba</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June —.</p> +<p>‘The Alexandria cable has again failed; after paying out +two-thirds of the distance successfully, an unlucky touch in deep +water snapped the line. Luckily the accident occurred in +Mr. Liddell’s watch. Though personally it may not +really concern me, the accident weighs like a personal +misfortune. Still I am glad I was present: a failure is +probably more instructive than a success; and this experience may +enable us to avoid misfortune in still greater undertakings.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘June —.</p> +<p>‘We left Syra the morning after our arrival on Saturday +the 4th. This we did (first) because we were in a hurry to +do something and (second) because, coming from Alexandria, we had +four days’ quarantine to perform. We were all +mustered along the side while the doctor counted us; the letters +were popped into a little tin box and taken away to be smoked; +the guardians put on board to see that we held no communication +with the shore—without them we should still have had four +more days’ quarantine; and with twelve Greek sailors +besides, we started merrily enough picking up the Canea cable. . +. . To our utter dismay, the yarn covering began to come up quite +decayed, and the cable, which when laid should have borne half a +ton, was now in danger of snapping with a tenth part of that +strain. We went as slow as possible in fear of a break at +every instant. My watch was from eight to twelve in the +morning, and during that time we had barely secured three miles +of cable. Once it broke inside the ship, but I seized hold +of it in time—the weight being hardly anything—and +the line for the nonce was saved. Regular nooses were then +planted inboard with men to draw them taut, should the cable +break inboard. A—, who should have relieved me, was +unwell, so I had to continue my look-out; and about one +o’clock the line again parted, but was again caught in the +last noose, with about four inches to spare. Five minutes +afterwards it again parted and was yet once more caught. +Mr. Liddell (whom I had called) could stand this no longer; so we +buoyed the line and ran into a bay in Siphano, waiting for calm +weather, though I was by no means of opinion that the slight sea +and wind had been the cause of our failures.—All next day +(Monday) we lay off Siphano, amusing ourselves on shore with +fowling pieces and navy revolvers. I need not say we killed +nothing; and luckily we did not wound any of ourselves. A +guardiano accompanied us, his functions being limited to +preventing actual contact with the natives, for they might come +as near and talk as much as they pleased. These isles of +Greece are sad, interesting places. They are not really +barren all over, but they are quite destitute of verdure; and +tufts of thyme, wild mastic or mint, though they sound well, are +not nearly so pretty as grass. Many little churches, +glittering white, dot the islands; most of them, I believe, +abandoned during the whole year with the exception of one day +sacred to their patron saint. The villages are mean, but +the inhabitants do not look wretched and the men are good +sailors. There is something in this Greek race yet; they +will become a powerful Levantine nation in the course of +time.—What a lovely moonlight evening that was! the barren +island cutting the clear sky with fantastic outline, marble +cliffs on either hand fairly gleaming over the calm sea. +Next day, the wind still continuing, I proposed a boating +excursion and decoyed A—, L—, and S— into +accompanying me. We took the little gig, and sailed away +merrily enough round a point to a beautiful white bay, flanked +with two glistening little churches, fronted by beautiful distant +islands; when suddenly, to my horror, I discovered the +<i>Elba</i> steaming full speed out from the island. Of +course we steered after her; but the wind that instant ceased, +and we were left in a dead calm. There was nothing for it +but to unship the mast, get out the oars and pull. The ship +was nearly certain to stop at the buoy; and I wanted to learn how +to take an oar, so here was a chance with a vengeance! +L— steered, and we three pulled—a broiling pull it +was about half way across to Palikandro—still we did come +in, pulling an uncommon good stroke, and I had learned to hang on +my oar. L— had pressed me to let him take my place; +but though I was very tired at the end of the first quarter of an +hour, and then every successive half hour, I would not give +in. I nearly paid dear for my obstinacy, however; for in +the evening I had alternate fits of shivering and +burning.’</p> +<h3>III.</h3> +<p>The next extracts, and I am sorry to say the last, are from +Fleeming’s letters of 1860, when he was back at Bona and +Spartivento and for the first time at the head of an +expedition. Unhappily these letters are not only the last, +but the series is quite imperfect; and this is the more to be +lamented as he had now begun to use a pen more skilfully, and in +the following notes there is at times a touch of real distinction +in the manner.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘Cagliari: October 5, +1860.</p> +<p>‘All Tuesday I spent examining what was on board the +<i>Elba</i>, and trying to start the repairs of the Spartivento +land line, which has been entirely neglected, and no wonder, for +no one has been paid for three months, no, not even the poor +guards who have to keep themselves, their horses and their +families, on their pay. Wednesday morning, I started for +Spartivento and got there in time to try a good many +experiments. Spartivento looks more wild and savage than +ever, but is not without a strange deadly beauty: the hills +covered with bushes of a metallic green with coppery patches of +soil in between; the valleys filled with dry salt mud and a +little stagnant water; where that very morning the deer had +drunk, where herons, curlews, and other fowl abound, and where, +alas! malaria is breeding with this rain. (No fear for those who +do not sleep on shore.) A little iron hut had been placed +there since 1858; but the windows had been carried off, the door +broken down, the roof pierced all over. In it, we sat to +make experiments; and how it recalled Birkenhead! There was +Thomson, there was my testing board, the strings of gutta-percha; +Harry P— even, battering with the batteries; but where was +my darling Annie? Whilst I sat feet in sand, with Harry +alone inside the hut—mats, coats, and wood to darken the +window—the others visited the murderous old friar, who is +of the order of Scaloppi, and for whom I brought a letter from +his superior, ordering him to pay us attention; but he was away +from home, gone to Cagliari in a boat with the produce of the +farm belonging to his convent. Then they visited the tower +of Chia, but could not get in because the door is thirty feet off +the ground; so they came back and pitched a magnificent tent +which I brought from the <i>Bahiana</i> a long time ago—and +where they will live (if I mistake not) in preference to the +friar’s, or the owl- and bat-haunted tower. MM. +T— and S— will be left there: T—, an +intelligent, hard-working Frenchman, with whom I am well pleased; +he can speak English and Italian well, and has been two years at +Genoa. S— is a French German with a face like an +ancient Gaul, who has been sergeant-major in the French line and +who is, I see, a great, big, muscular +<i>fainéant</i>. We left the tent pitched and some +stores in charge of a guide, and ran back to Cagliari.</p> +<p>‘Certainly, being at the head of things is pleasanter +than being subordinate. We all agree very well; and I have +made the testing office into a kind of private room where I can +come and write to you undisturbed, surrounded by my dear, bright +brass things which all of them remind me of our nights at +Birkenhead. Then I can work here, too, and try lots of +experiments; you know how I like that! and now and then I +read—Shakespeare principally. Thank you so much for +making me bring him: I think I must get a pocket edition of +Hamlet and Henry the Fifth, so as never to be without them.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘Cagliari: October 7.</p> +<p>‘[The town was full?] . . . of red-shirted English +Garibaldini. A very fine looking set of fellows they are, +too: the officers rather raffish, but with medals Crimean and +Indian; the men a very sturdy set, with many lads of good birth I +should say. They still wait their consort the Emperor and +will, I fear, be too late to do anything. I meant to have +called on them, but they are all gone into barracks some way from +the town, and I have been much too busy to go far.</p> +<p>‘The view from the ramparts was very strange and +beautiful. Cagliari rises on a very steep rock, at the +mouth of a wide plain circled by large hills and three-quarters +filled with lagoons; it looks, therefore, like an old island +citadel. Large heaps of salt mark the border between the +sea and the lagoons; thousands of flamingoes whiten the centre of +the huge shallow marsh; hawks hover and scream among the trees +under the high mouldering battlements.—A little lower down, +the band played. Men and ladies bowed and pranced, the +costumes posed, church bells tinkled, processions processed, the +sun set behind thick clouds capping the hills; I pondered on you +and enjoyed it all.</p> +<p>‘Decidedly I prefer being master to being man: boats at +all hours, stewards flying for marmalade, captain enquiring when +ship is to sail, clerks to copy my writing, the boat to steer +when we go out—I have run her nose on several times; +decidedly, I begin to feel quite a little king. Confound +the cable, though! I shall never be able to repair it.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">‘Bona: October 14.</p> +<p>‘We left Cagliari at 4.30 on the 9th and soon got to +Spartivento. I repeated some of my experiments, but found +Thomson, who was to have been my grand stand-by, would not work +on that day in the wretched little hut. Even if the windows +and door had been put in, the wind which was very high made the +lamp flicker about and blew it out; so I sent on board and got +old sails, and fairly wrapped the hut up in them; and then we +were as snug as could be, and I left the hut in glorious +condition with a nice little stove in it. The tent which +should have been forthcoming from the curé’s for the +guards, had gone to Cagliari; but I found another, [a] green, +Turkish tent, in the <i>Elba</i> and soon had him up. The +square tent left on the last occasion was standing all right and +tight in spite of wind and rain. We landed provisions, two +beds, plates, knives, forks, candles, cooking utensils, and were +ready for a start at 6 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>; but the +wind meanwhile had come on to blow at such a rate that I thought +better of it, and we stopped. T— and S— slept +ashore, however, to see how they liked it, at least they tried to +sleep, for S— the ancient sergeant-major had a toothache, +and T— thought the tent was coming down every minute. +Next morning they could only complain of sand and a leaky +coffee-pot, so I leave them with a good conscience. The +little encampment looked quite picturesque: the green round tent, +the square white tent and the hut all wrapped up in sails, on a +sand hill, looking on the sea and masking those confounded +marshes at the back. One would have thought the +Cagliaritans were in a conspiracy to frighten the two poor +fellows, who (I believe) will be safe enough if they do not go +into the marshes after nightfall. S— brought a little +dog to amuse them, such a jolly, ugly little cur without a tail, +but full of fun; he will be better than quinine.</p> +<p>‘The wind drove a barque, which had anchored near us for +shelter, out to sea. We started, however, at 2 <span +class="smcap">p.m.</span>, and had a quick passage but a very +rough one, getting to Bona by daylight [on the 11th]. Such +a place as this is for getting anything done! The health +boat went away from us at 7.30 with W— on board; and we +heard nothing of them till 9.30, when W— came back with two +fat Frenchmen who are to look on on the part of the +Government. They are exactly alike: only one has four bands +and the other three round his cap, and so I know them. Then +I sent a boat round to Fort Gênois [Fort Genova of 1858], +where the cable is landed, with all sorts of things and +directions, whilst I went ashore to see about coals and a room at +the fort. We hunted people in the little square in their +shops and offices, but only found them in cafés. One +amiable gentleman wasn’t up at 9.30, was out at 10, and as +soon as he came back the servant said he would go to bed and not +get up till 3: he came, however, to find us at a café, and +said that, on the contrary, two days in the week he did not do +so! Then my two fat friends must have their breakfast after +their “something” at a café; and all the shops +shut from 10 to 2; and the post does not open till 12; and there +was a road to Fort Gênois, only a bridge had been carried +away, &c. At last I got off, and we rowed round to Fort +Gênois, where my men had put up a capital gipsy tent with +sails, and there was my big board and Thomson’s number 5 in +great glory. I soon came to the conclusion there was a +break. Two of my faithful Cagliaritans slept all night in +the little tent, to guard it and my precious instruments; and the +sea, which was rather rough, silenced my Frenchmen.</p> +<p>‘Next day I went on with my experiments, whilst a boat +grappled for the cable a little way from shore and buoyed it +where the <i>Elba</i> could get hold. I brought all back to +the <i>Elba</i>, tried my machinery and was all ready for a start +next morning. But the wretched coal had not come yet; +Government permission from Algiers to be got; lighters, men, +baskets, and I know not what forms to be got or got +through—and everybody asleep! Coals or no coals, I +was determined to start next morning; and start we did at four in +the morning, picked up the buoy with our deck engine, popped the +cable across a boat, tested the wires to make sure the fault was +not behind us, and started picking up at 11. Everything worked +admirably, and about 2 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>, in came +the fault. There is no doubt the cable was broken by coral +fishers; twice they have had it up to their own knowledge.</p> +<p>‘Many men have been ashore to-day and have come back +tipsy, and the whole ship is in a state of quarrel from top to +bottom, and they will gossip just within my hearing. And we +have had, moreover, three French gentlemen and a French lady to +dinner, and I had to act host and try to manage the mixtures to +their taste. The good-natured little Frenchwoman was most +amusing; when I asked her if she would have some apple +tart—“<i>Mon Dieu</i>,” with heroic +resignation, “<i>je veux bien</i>”; or a little +<i>plombodding</i>—“<i>Mais ce que vous voudrez</i>, +<i>Monsieur</i>!”</p> +<p>‘S. S. <i>Elba</i>, somewhere not far from Bona: Oct. +19.</p> +<p>‘Yesterday [after three previous days of useless +grappling] was destined to be very eventful. We began +dredging at daybreak and hooked at once every time in rocks; but +by capital luck, just as we were deciding it was no use to +continue in that place, we hooked the cable: up it came, was +tested, and lo! another complete break, a quarter of a mile +off. I was amazed at my own tranquillity under these +disappointments, but I was not really half so fussy as about +getting a cab. Well, there was nothing for it but grappling +again, and, as you may imagine, we were getting about six miles +from shore. But the water did not deepen rapidly; we seemed +to be on the crest of a kind of submarine mountain in +prolongation of Cape de Gonde, and pretty havoc we must have made +with the crags. What rocks we did hook! No sooner was +the grapnel down than the ship was anchored; and then came such a +business: ship’s engines going, deck engine thundering, +belt slipping, fear of breaking ropes: actually breaking +grapnels. It was always an hour or more before we could get +the grapnel down again. At last we had to give up the +place, though we knew we were close to the cable, and go further +to sea in much deeper water; to my great fear, as I knew the +cable was much eaten away and would stand but little +strain. Well, we hooked the cable first dredge this time, +and pulled it slowly and gently to the top, with much +trepidation. Was it the cable? was there any weight on? it +was evidently too small. Imagine my dismay when the cable +did come up, but hanging loosely, thus</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p184ab.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Sketch of cable coming up hanging loosely" +title= +"Sketch of cable coming up hanging loosely" +src="images/p184as.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>instead of taut, thus</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p184bb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Sketch of cable coming up hanging taut" +title= +"Sketch of cable coming up hanging taut" +src="images/p184bs.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>showing certain signs of a break close by. For a moment +I felt provoked, as I thought, “Here we are in deep water, +and the cable will not stand lifting!” I tested at +once, and by the very first wire found it had broken towards +shore and was good towards sea. This was of course very +pleasant; but from that time to this, though the wires test very +well, not a signal has come from Spartivento. I got the +cable into a boat, and a gutta-percha line from the ship to the +boat, and we signalled away at a great rate—but no signs of +life. The tests, however, make me pretty sure one wire at +least is good; so I determined to lay down cable from where we +were to the shore, and go to Spartivento to see what had happened +there. I fear my men are ill. The night was lovely, +perfectly calm; so we lay close to the boat and signals were +continually sent, but with no result. This morning I laid +the cable down to Fort Gênois in style; and now we are +picking up odds and ends of cable between the different breaks, +and getting our buoys on board, &c. To-morrow I expect +to leave for Spartivento.’</p> +<h3>IV.</h3> +<p>And now I am quite at an end of journal keeping; diaries and +diary letters being things of youth which Fleeming had at length +outgrown. But one or two more fragments from his +correspondence may be taken, and first this brief sketch of the +laying of the Norderney cable; mainly interesting as showing +under what defects of strength and in what extremities of pain, +this cheerful man must at times continue to go about his +work.</p> +<p>‘I slept on board 29th September having arranged +everything to start by daybreak from where we lay in the roads: +but at daybreak a heavy mist hung over us so that nothing of land +or water could be seen. At midday it lifted suddenly and +away we went with perfect weather, but could not find the buoys +Forde left, that evening. I saw the captain was not strong +in navigation, and took matters next day much more into my own +hands and before nine o’clock found the buoys; (the weather +had been so fine we had anchored in the open sea near +Texel). It took us till the evening to reach the buoys, get +the cable on board, test the first half, speak to Lowestoft, make +the splice, and start. H— had not finished his work +at Norderney, so I was alone on board for Reuter. Moreover +the buoys to guide us in our course were not placed, and the +captain had very vague ideas about keeping his course; so I had +to do a good deal, and only lay down as I was for two hours in +the night. I managed to run the course perfectly. +Everything went well, and we found Norderney just where we wanted +it next afternoon, and if the shore end had been laid, could have +finished there and then, October 1st. But when we got to +Norderney, we found the <i>Caroline</i> with shore end lying +apparently aground, and could not understand her signals; so we +had to anchor suddenly and I went off in a small boat with the +captain to the <i>Caroline</i>. It was cold by this time, +and my arm was rather stiff and I was tired; I hauled myself up +on board the <i>Caroline</i> by a rope and found H— and two +men on board. All the rest were trying to get the shore end +on shore, but had failed and apparently had stuck on shore, and +the waves were getting up. We had anchored in the right +place and next morning we hoped the shore end would be laid, so +we had only to go back. It was of course still colder and +quite night. I went to bed and hoped to sleep, but, alas, +the rheumatism got into the joints and caused me terrible pain so +that I could not sleep. I bore it as long as I could in +order to disturb no one, for all were tired; but at last I could +bear it no longer and managed to wake the steward and got a +mustard poultice which took the pain from the shoulder; but then +the elbow got very bad, and I had to call the second steward and +get a second poultice, and then it was daylight, and I felt very +ill and feverish. The sea was now rather rough—too +rough rather for small boats, but luckily a sort of thing called +a scoot came out, and we got on board her with some trouble, and +got on shore after a good tossing about which made us all +sea-sick. The cable sent from the <i>Caroline</i> was just +60 yards too short and did not reach the shore, so although the +<i>Caroline</i> did make the splice late that night, we could +neither test nor speak. Reuter was at Norderney, and I had +to do the best I could, which was not much, and went to bed +early; I thought I should never sleep again, but in sheer +desperation got up in the middle of the night and gulped a lot of +raw whiskey and slept at last. But not long. A Mr. +F— washed my face and hands and dressed me: and we hauled +the cable out of the sea, and got it joined to the telegraph +station, and on October 3rd telegraphed to Lowestoft first and +then to London. Miss Clara Volkman, a niece of Mr. +Reuter’s, sent the first message to Mrs. Reuter, who was +waiting (Varley used Miss Clara’s hand as a kind of key), +and I sent one of the first messages to Odden. I thought a +message addressed to him would not frighten you, and that he +would enjoy a message through Papa’s cable. I hope he +did. They were all very merry, but I had been so lowered by +pain that I could not enjoy myself in spite of the +success.’</p> +<h3>V.</h3> +<p>Of the 1869 cruise in the <i>Great Eastern</i>, I give what I +am able; only sorry it is no more, for the sake of the ship +itself, already almost a legend even to the generation that saw +it launched.</p> +<p>‘<i>June</i> 17, 1869.—Here are the names of our +staff in whom I expect you to be interested, as future <i>Great +Eastern</i> stories may be full of them: Theophilus Smith, a man +of Latimer Clark’s; Leslie C. Hill, my prizeman at +University College; Lord Sackville Cecil; King, one of the +Thomsonian Kings; Laws, goes for Willoughby Smith, who will also +be on board; Varley, Clark, and Sir James Anderson make up the +sum of all you know anything of. A Captain Halpin commands +the big ship. There are four smaller vessels. The +<i>Wm. Cory</i>, which laid the Norderney cable, has already gone +to St. Pierre to lay the shore ends. The <i>Hawk</i> and +<i>Chiltern</i> have gone to Brest to lay shore ends. The +<i>Hawk</i> and <i>Scanderia</i> go with us across the Atlantic +and we shall at St. Pierre be transhipped into one or the +other.</p> +<p>‘<i>June</i> 18. <i>Somewhere in +London</i>.—The shore end is laid, as you may have seen, +and we are all under pressing orders to march, so we start from +London to-night at 5.10.</p> +<p>‘<i>June</i> 20. <i>Off Ushant</i>.—I am +getting quite fond of the big ship. Yesterday morning in +the quiet sunlight, she turned so slowly and lazily in the great +harbour at Portland, and bye and bye slipped out past the long +pier with so little stir, that I could hardly believe we were +really off. No men drunk, no women crying, no singing or +swearing, no confusion or bustle on deck—nobody apparently +aware that they had anything to do. The look of the thing +was that the ship had been spoken to civilly and had kindly +undertaken to do everything that was necessary without any +further interference. I have a nice cabin with plenty of +room for my legs in my berth and have slept two nights like a +top. Then we have the ladies’ cabin set apart as an +engineer’s office, and I think this decidedly the nicest +place in the ship: 35 ft. × 20 ft. broad—four tables, +three great mirrors, plenty of air and no heat from the funnels +which spoil the great dining-room. I saw a whole library of +books on the walls when here last, and this made me less anxious +to provide light literature; but alas, to-day I find that they +are every one bibles or prayer-books. Now one cannot read +many hundred bibles. . . . As for the motion of the ship it is +not very much, but ‘twill suffice. Thomson shook +hands and wished me well. I <i>do</i> like Thomson. . . . +Tell Austin that the <i>Great Eastern</i> has six masts and four +funnels. When I get back I will make a little model of her +for all the chicks and pay out cotton reels. . . . Here we are at +4.20 at Brest. We leave probably to-morrow morning.</p> +<p>‘<i>July</i> 12. <i>Great Eastern</i>.—Here +as I write we run our last course for the buoy at the St. Pierre +shore end. It blows and lightens, and our good ship rolls, +and buoys are hard to find; but we must soon now finish our work, +and then this letter will start for home. . . . Yesterday we were +mournfully groping our way through the wet grey fog, not at all +sure where we were, with one consort lost and the other faintly +answering the roar of our great whistle through the mist. +As to the ship which was to meet us, and pioneer us up the deep +channel, we did not know if we should come within twenty miles of +her; when suddenly up went the fog, out came the sun, and there, +straight ahead, was the <i>Wm. Cory</i>, our pioneer, and a +little dancing boat, the <i>Gulnare</i>, sending signals of +welcome with many-coloured flags. Since then we have been +steaming in a grand procession; but now at 2 <span +class="smcap">a.m.</span> the fog has fallen, and the great +roaring whistle calls up the distant answering notes all around +us. Shall we, or shall we not find the buoy?</p> +<p>‘<i>July</i> 13.—All yesterday we lay in the damp +dripping fog, with whistles all round and guns firing so that we +might not bump up against one another. This little delay +has let us get our reports into tolerable order. We are now +at 7 o’clock getting the cable end again, with the main +cable buoy close to us.’</p> +<p><i>A telegram of July</i> 20: ‘I have received your four +welcome letters. The Americans are charming +people.’</p> +<h3>VI.</h3> +<p>And here to make an end are a few random bits about the cruise +to Pernambuco:—</p> +<p>‘<i>Plymouth</i>, <i>June</i> 21, 1873.—I have +been down to the sea-shore and smelt the salt sea and like it; +and I have seen the <i>Hooper</i> pointing her great bow +sea-ward, while light smoke rises from her funnels telling that +the fires are being lighted; and sorry as I am to be without you, +something inside me answers to the call to be off and doing.</p> +<p>‘<i>Lalla Rookh</i>. <i>Plymouth</i>, <i>June</i> +22.—We have been a little cruise in the yacht over to the +Eddystone lighthouse, and my sea-legs seem very well on. +Strange how alike all these starts are—first on shore, +steaming hot days with a smell of bone-dust and tar and salt +water; then the little puffing, panting steam-launch that bustles +out across a port with green woody sides, little yachts sliding +about, men-of-war training-ships, and then a great big black hulk +of a thing with a mass of smaller vessels sticking to it like +parasites; and that is one’s home being coaled. Then +comes the Champagne lunch where everyone says all that is polite +to everyone else, and then the uncertainty when to start. +So far as we know <i>now</i>, we are to start to-morrow morning +at daybreak; letters that come later are to be sent to Pernambuco +by first mail. . . . My father has sent me the heartiest sort of +Jack Tar’s cheer.</p> +<p>‘<i>S. S. Hooper</i>. <i>Off Funchal</i>, +<i>June</i> 29.—Here we are off Madeira at seven +o’clock in the morning. Thomson has been sounding +with his special toy ever since half-past three (1087 fathoms of +water). I have been watching the day break, and long jagged +islands start into being out of the dull night. We are +still some miles from land; but the sea is calmer than Loch Eil +often was, and the big <i>Hooper</i> rests very contentedly after +a pleasant voyage and favourable breezes. I have not been +able to do any real work except the testing [of the cable], for +though not sea-sick, I get a little giddy when I try to think on +board. . . . The ducks have just had their daily souse and are +quacking and gabbling in a mighty way outside the door of the +captain’s deck cabin where I write. The cocks are +crowing, and new-laid eggs are said to be found in the +coops. Four mild oxen have been untethered and allowed to +walk along the broad iron decks—a whole drove of sheep seem +quite content while licking big lumps of bay salt. Two +exceedingly impertinent goats lead the cook a perfect life of +misery. They steal round the galley and <i>will</i> nibble +the carrots or turnips if his back is turned for one minute; and +then he throws something at them and misses them; and they +scuttle off laughing impudently, and flick one ear at him from a +safe distance. This is the most impudent gesture I ever +saw. Winking is nothing to it. The ear normally hangs +down behind; the goat turns sideways to her enemy—by a +little knowing cock of the head flicks one ear over one eye, and +squints from behind it for half a minute—tosses her head +back, skips a pace or two further off, and repeats the +manœuvre. The cook is very fat and cannot run after +that goat much.</p> +<p>‘<i>Pernambuco</i>, <i>Aug.</i> 1.—We landed here +yesterday, all well and cable sound, after a good passage. . . . +I am on familiar terms with cocoa-nuts, mangoes, and bread-fruit +trees, but I think I like the negresses best of anything I have +seen. In turbans and loose sea-green robes, with beautiful +black-brown complexions and a stately carriage, they really are a +satisfaction to my eye. The weather has been windy and +rainy; the <i>Hooper</i> has to lie about a mile from the town, +in an open roadstead, with the whole swell of the Atlantic +driving straight on shore. The little steam launch gives +all who go in her a good ducking, as she bobs about on the big +rollers; and my old gymnastic practice stands me in good stead on +boarding and leaving her. We clamber down a rope ladder +hanging from the high stern, and then taking a rope in one hand, +swing into the launch at the moment when she can contrive to +steam up under us—bobbing about like an apple thrown into a +tub all the while. The President of the province and his +suite tried to come off to a State luncheon on board on Sunday; +but the launch being rather heavily laden, behaved worse than +usual, and some green seas stove in the President’s hat and +made him wetter than he had probably ever been in his life; so +after one or two rollers, he turned back; and indeed he was wise +to do so, for I don’t see how he could have got on board. . +. . Being fully convinced that the world will not continue to go +round unless I pay it personal attention, I must run away to my +work.’</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.—1869–1885.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Edinburgh—Colleagues—<i>Farrago +Vitæ</i>—I. The Family Circle—Fleeming and his +Sons—Highland Life—The Cruise of the Steam +Launch—Summer in Styria—Rustic Manners—II. The +Drama—Private Theatricals—III. Sanitary +Associations—The Phonograph—IV. Fleeming’s +Acquaintance with a Student—His late Maturity of +Mind—Religion and Morality—His Love of +Heroism—Taste in Literature—V. His Talk—His +late Popularity—Letter from M. Trélat.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> remaining external incidents of +Fleeming’s life, pleasures, honours, fresh interests, new +friends, are not such as will bear to be told at any length or in +the temporal order. And it is now time to lay narration by, +and to look at the man he was and the life he lived, more +largely.</p> +<p>Edinburgh, which was thenceforth to be his home, is a +metropolitan small town; where college professors and the lawyers +of the Parliament House give the tone, and persons of leisure, +attracted by educational advantages, make up much of the bulk of +society. Not, therefore, an unlettered place, yet not +pedantic, Edinburgh will compare favourably with much larger +cities. A hard and disputatious element has been commented +on by strangers: it would not touch Fleeming, who was himself +regarded, even in this metropolis of disputation, as a thorny +table-mate. To golf unhappily he did not take, and golf is +a cardinal virtue in the city of the winds. Nor did he +become an archer of the Queen’s Body-Guard, which is the +Chiltern Hundreds of the distasted golfer. He did not even +frequent the Evening Club, where his colleague Tait (in my day) +was so punctual and so genial. So that in some ways he +stood outside of the lighter and kindlier life of his new +home. I should not like to say that he was generally +popular; but there as elsewhere, those who knew him well enough +to love him, loved him well. And he, upon his side, liked a +place where a dinner party was not of necessity unintellectual, +and where men stood up to him in argument.</p> +<p>The presence of his old classmate, Tait, was one of his early +attractions to the chair; and now that Fleeming is gone again, +Tait still remains, ruling and really teaching his great +classes. Sir Robert Christison was an old friend of his +mother’s; Sir Alexander Grant, Kelland, and Sellar, were +new acquaintances and highly valued; and these too, all but the +last, have been taken from their friends and labours. Death +has been busy in the Senatus. I will speak elsewhere of +Fleeming’s demeanour to his students; and it will be enough +to add here that his relations with his colleagues in general +were pleasant to himself.</p> +<p>Edinburgh, then, with its society, its university work, its +delightful scenery, and its skating in the winter, was +thenceforth his base of operations. But he shot meanwhile +erratic in many directions: twice to America, as we have seen, on +telegraph voyages; continually to London on business; often to +Paris; year after year to the Highlands to shoot, to fish, to +learn reels and Gaelic, to make the acquaintance and fall in love +with the character of Highlanders; and once to Styria, to hunt +chamois and dance with peasant maidens. All the while, he +was pursuing the course of his electrical studies, making fresh +inventions, taking up the phonograph, filled with theories of +graphic representation; reading, writing, publishing, founding +sanitary associations, interested in technical education, +investigating the laws of metre, drawing, acting, directing +private theatricals, going a long way to see an actor—a +long way to see a picture; in the very bubble of the tideway of +contemporary interests. And all the while he was busied +about his father and mother, his wife, and in particular his +sons; anxiously watching, anxiously guiding these, and plunging +with his whole fund of youthfulness into their sports and +interests. And all the while he was himself +maturing—not in character or body, for these remained +young—but in the stocked mind, in the tolerant knowledge of +life and man, in pious acceptance of the universe. Here is +a farrago for a chapter: here is a world of interests and +activities, human, artistic, social, scientific, at each of which +he sprang with impetuous pleasure, on each of which he squandered +energy, the arrow drawn to the head, the whole intensity of his +spirit bent, for the moment, on the momentary purpose. It +was this that lent such unusual interest to his society, so that +no friend of his can forget that figure of Fleeming coming +charged with some new discovery: it is this that makes his +character so difficult to represent. Our fathers, upon some +difficult theme, would invoke the Muse; I can but appeal to the +imagination of the reader. When I dwell upon some one +thing, he must bear in mind it was only one of a score; that the +unweariable brain was teeming at the very time with other +thoughts; that the good heart had left no kind duty +forgotten.</p> +<h3>I.</h3> +<p>In Edinburgh, for a considerable time, Fleeming’s +family, to three generations, was united: Mr. and Mrs. Austin at +Hailes, Captain and Mrs. Jenkin in the suburb of Merchiston, +Fleeming himself in the city. It is not every family that +could risk with safety such close interdomestic dealings; but in +this also Fleeming was particularly favoured. Even the two +extremes, Mr. Austin and the Captain, drew together. It is +pleasant to find that each of the old gentlemen set a high value +on the good looks of the other, doubtless also on his own; and a +fine picture they made as they walked the green terrace at +Hailes, conversing by the hour. What they talked of is +still a mystery to those who knew them; but Mr. Austin always +declared that on these occasions he learned much. To both +of these families of elders, due service was paid of attention; +to both, Fleeming’s easy circumstances had brought joy; and +the eyes of all were on the grandchildren. In +Fleeming’s scheme of duties, those of the family stood +first; a man was first of all a child, nor did he cease to be so, +but only took on added obligations, when he became in turn a +father. The care of his parents was always a first thought +with him, and their gratification his delight. And the care +of his sons, as it was always a grave subject of study with him, +and an affair never neglected, so it brought him a thousand +satisfactions. ‘Hard work they are,’ as he once +wrote, ‘but what fit work!’ And again: +‘O, it’s a cold house where a dog is the only +representative of a child!’ Not that dogs were +despised; we shall drop across the name of Jack, the harum-scarum +Irish terrier ere we have done; his own dog Plato went up with +him daily to his lectures, and still (like other friends) feels +the loss and looks visibly for the reappearance of his master; +and Martin, the cat, Fleeming has himself immortalised, to the +delight of Mr. Swinburne, in the columns of the +<i>Spectator</i>. Indeed there was nothing in which men +take interest, in which he took not some; and yet always most in +the strong human bonds, ancient as the race and woven of delights +and duties.</p> +<p>He was even an anxious father; perhaps that is the part where +optimism is hardest tested. He was eager for his sons; +eager for their health, whether of mind or body; eager for their +education; in that, I should have thought, too eager. But +he kept a pleasant face upon all things, believed in play, loved +it himself, shared boyishly in theirs, and knew how to put a face +of entertainment upon business and a spirit of education into +entertainment. If he was to test the progress of the three +boys, this advertisement would appear in their little manuscript +paper:—‘Notice: The Professor of Engineering in the +University of Edinburgh intends at the close of the scholastic +year to hold examinations in the following subjects: (1) +For boys in the fourth class of the Academy—Geometry and +Algebra; (2) For boys at Mr. Henderson’s +school—Dictation and Recitation; (3) For boys taught +exclusively by their mothers—Arithmetic and +Reading.’ Prizes were given; but what prize would be +so conciliatory as this boyish little joke? It may read +thin here; it would smack racily in the playroom. Whenever +his sons ‘started a new fad’ (as one of them writes +to me) they ‘had only to tell him about it, and he was at +once interested and keen to help.’ He would +discourage them in nothing unless it was hopelessly too hard for +them; only, if there was any principle of science involved, they +must understand the principle; and whatever was attempted, that +was to be done thoroughly. If it was but play, if it was +but a puppetshow they were to build, he set them the example of +being no sluggard in play. When Frewen, the second son, +embarked on the ambitious design to make an engine for a toy +steamboat, Fleeming made him begin with a proper +drawing—doubtless to the disgust of the young engineer; but +once that foundation laid, helped in the work with unflagging +gusto, ‘tinkering away,’ for hours, and assisted at +the final trial ‘in the big bath’ with no less +excitement than the boy. ‘He would take any amount of +trouble to help us,’ writes my correspondent. +‘We never felt an affair was complete till we had called +him to see, and he would come at any time, in the middle of any +work.’ There was indeed one recognised playhour, +immediately after the despatch of the day’s letters; and +the boys were to be seen waiting on the stairs until the mail +should be ready and the fun could begin. But at no other +time did this busy man suffer his work to interfere with that +first duty to his children; and there is a pleasant tale of the +inventive Master Frewen, engaged at the time upon a toy crane, +bringing to the study where his father sat at work a half-wound +reel that formed some part of his design, and observing, +‘Papa, you might finiss windin’ this for me; I am so +very busy to-day.’</p> +<p>I put together here a few brief extracts from Fleeming’s +letters, none very important in itself, but all together building +up a pleasant picture of the father with his sons.</p> +<p>‘<i>Jan.</i> 15<i>th</i>, 1875.—Frewen +contemplates suspending soap bubbles by silk threads for +experimental purposes. I don’t think he will manage +that. Bernard’ [the youngest] ‘volunteered to +blow the bubbles with enthusiasm.’</p> +<p>‘<i>Jan.</i> 17<i>th</i>.—I am learning a great +deal of electrostatics in consequence of the perpetual +cross-examination to which I am subjected. I long for you +on many grounds, but one is that I may not be obliged to deliver +a running lecture on abstract points of science, subject to +cross-examination by two acute students. Bernie does not +cross-examine much; but if anyone gets discomfited, he laughs a +sort of little silver-whistle giggle, which is trying to the +unhappy blunderer.’</p> +<p>‘<i>May</i> 9<i>th</i>.—Frewen is deep in +parachutes. I beg him not to drop from the top landing in +one of his own making.’</p> +<p>‘<i>June</i> 6<i>th</i>, 1876.—Frewen’s +crank axle is a failure just at present—but he bears +up.’</p> +<p>‘<i>June</i> 14<i>th</i>.—The boys enjoy their +riding. It gets them whole funds of adventures. One +of their caps falling off is matter for delightful reminiscences; +and when a horse breaks his step, the occurrence becomes a rear, +a shy, or a plunge as they talk it over. Austin, with quiet +confidence, speaks of the greater pleasure in riding a spirited +horse, even if he does give a little trouble. It is the +stolid brute that he dislikes. (N.B. You can still see six +inches between him and the saddle when his pony trots.) I +listen and sympathise and throw out no hint that their +achievements are not really great.’</p> +<p>‘<i>June</i> 18<i>th</i>.—Bernard is much +impressed by the fact that I can be useful to Frewen about the +steamboat’ [which the latter irrepressible inventor was +making]. ‘He says quite with awe, “He would not +have got on nearly so well if you had not helped +him.”’</p> +<p>‘<i>June</i> 27<i>th</i>.—I do not see what I +could do without Austin. He talks so pleasantly and is so +truly good all through.’</p> +<p>‘<i>June</i> 27<i>th</i>.—My chief difficulty with +Austin is to get him measured for a pair of trousers. +Hitherto I have failed, but I keep a stout heart and mean to +succeed. Frewen the observer, in describing the paces of +two horses, says, “Polly takes twenty-seven steps to get +round the school. I couldn’t count Sophy, but she +takes more than a hundred.”’</p> +<p>‘<i>Feb.</i> 18<i>th</i>, 1877.—We all feel very +lonely without you. Frewen had to come up and sit in my +room for company last night and I actually kissed him, a thing +that has not occurred for years. Jack, poor fellow, bears +it as well as he can, and has taken the opportunity of having a +fester on his foot, so he is lame and has it bathed, and this +occupies his thoughts a good deal.’</p> +<p>‘<i>Feb.</i> 19<i>th</i>.—As to Mill, Austin has +not got the list yet. I think it will prejudice him very +much against Mill—but that is not my affair. +Education of that kind! . . . I would as soon cram my boys with +food and boast of the pounds they had eaten, as cram them with +literature.’</p> +<p>But if Fleeming was an anxious father, he did not suffer his +anxiety to prevent the boys from any manly or even dangerous +pursuit. Whatever it might occur to them to try, he would +carefully show them how to do it, explain the risks, and then +either share the danger himself or, if that were not possible, +stand aside and wait the event with that unhappy courage of the +looker-on. He was a good swimmer, and taught them to +swim. He thoroughly loved all manly exercises; and during +their holidays, and principally in the Highlands, helped and +encouraged them to excel in as many as possible: to shoot, to +fish, to walk, to pull an oar, to hand, reef and steer, and to +run a steam launch. In all of these, and in all parts of +Highland life, he shared delightedly. He was well on to +forty when he took once more to shooting, he was forty-three when +he killed his first salmon, but no boy could have more +single-mindedly rejoiced in these pursuits. His growing +love for the Highland character, perhaps also a sense of the +difficulty of the task, led him to take up at forty-one the study +of Gaelic; in which he made some shadow of progress, but not +much: the fastnesses of that elusive speech retaining to the last +their independence. At the house of his friend Mrs. +Blackburn, who plays the part of a Highland lady as to the manner +born, he learned the delightful custom of kitchen dances, which +became the rule at his own house and brought him into yet nearer +contact with his neighbours. And thus at forty-two, he +began to learn the reel; a study, to which he brought his usual +smiling earnestness; and the steps, diagrammatically represented +by his own hand, are before me as I write.</p> +<p>It was in 1879 that a new feature was added to the Highland +life: a steam launch, called the <i>Purgle</i>, the Styrian +corruption of Walpurga, after a friend to be hereafter +mentioned. ‘The steam launch goes,’ Fleeming +wrote. ‘I wish you had been present to describe two +scenes of which she has been the occasion already: one during +which the population of Ullapool, to a baby, was harnessed to her +hurrahing—and the other in which the same population sat +with its legs over a little pier, watching Frewen and Bernie +getting up steam for the first time.’ The +<i>Purgle</i> was got with educational intent; and it served its +purpose so well, and the boys knew their business so practically, +that when the summer was at an end, Fleeming, Mrs. Jenkin, Frewen +the engineer, Bernard the stoker, and Kenneth Robertson a +Highland seaman, set forth in her to make the passage +south. The first morning they got from Loch Broom into +Gruinard bay, where they lunched upon an island; but the wind +blowing up in the afternoon, with sheets of rain, it was found +impossible to beat to sea; and very much in the situation of +castaways upon an unknown coast, the party landed at the mouth of +Gruinard river. A shooting lodge was spied among the trees; +there Fleeming went; and though the master, Mr. Murray, was from +home, though the two Jenkin boys were of course as black as +colliers, and all the castaways so wetted through that, as they +stood in the passage, pools formed about their feet and ran +before them into the house, yet Mrs. Murray kindly entertained +them for the night. On the morrow, however, visitors were +to arrive; there would be no room and, in so out-of-the-way a +spot, most probably no food for the crew of the <i>Purgle</i>; +and on the morrow about noon, with the bay white with spindrift +and the wind so strong that one could scarcely stand against it, +they got up steam and skulked under the land as far as Sanda +Bay. Here they crept into a seaside cave, and cooked some +food; but the weather now freshening to a gale, it was plain they +must moor the launch where she was, and find their way overland +to some place of shelter. Even to get their baggage from on +board was no light business; for the dingy was blown so far to +leeward every trip, that they must carry her back by hand along +the beach. But this once managed, and a cart procured in +the neighbourhood, they were able to spend the night in a +pot-house on Ault Bea. Next day, the sea was +unapproachable; but the next they had a pleasant passage to +Poolewe, hugging the cliffs, the falling swell bursting close by +them in the gullies, and the black scarts that sat like ornaments +on the top of every stack and pinnacle, looking down into the +<i>Purgle</i> as she passed. The climate of Scotland had +not done with them yet: for three days they lay storm-stayed in +Poolewe, and when they put to sea on the morning of the fourth, +the sailors prayed them for God’s sake not to attempt the +passage. Their setting out was indeed merely tentative; but +presently they had gone too far to return, and found themselves +committed to double Rhu Reay with a foul wind and a cross +sea. From half-past eleven in the morning until half-past +five at night, they were in immediate and unceasing danger. +Upon the least mishap, the <i>Purgle</i> must either have been +swamped by the seas or bulged upon the cliffs of that rude +headland. Fleeming and Robertson took turns baling and +steering; Mrs. Jenkin, so violent was the commotion of the boat, +held on with both hands; Frewen, by Robertson’s direction, +ran the engine, slacking and pressing her to meet the seas; and +Bernard, only twelve years old, deadly sea-sick, and continually +thrown against the boiler, so that he was found next day to be +covered with burns, yet kept an even fire. It was a very +thankful party that sat down that evening to meat in the Hotel at +Gairloch. And perhaps, although the thing was new in the +family, no one was much surprised when Fleeming said grace over +that meal. Thenceforward he continued to observe the form, +so that there was kept alive in his house a grateful memory of +peril and deliverance. But there was nothing of the muff in +Fleeming; he thought it a good thing to escape death, but a +becoming and a healthful thing to run the risk of it; and what is +rarer, that which he thought for himself, he thought for his +family also. In spite of the terrors of Rhu Reay, the +cruise was persevered in and brought to an end under happier +conditions.</p> +<p>One year, instead of the Highlands, Alt Aussee, in the +Steiermark, was chosen for the holidays; and the place, the +people, and the life delighted Fleeming. He worked hard at +German, which he had much forgotten since he was a boy; and what +is highly characteristic, equally hard at the patois, in which he +learned to excel. He won a prize at a Schützen-fest; +and though he hunted chamois without much success, brought down +more interesting game in the shape of the Styrian peasants, and +in particular of his gillie, Joseph. This Joseph was much +of a character; and his appreciations of Fleeming have a fine +note of their own. The bringing up of the boys he deigned +to approve of: ‘<i>fast so gut wie ein bauer</i>,’ +was his trenchant criticism. The attention and courtly +respect with which Fleeming surrounded his wife, was something of +a puzzle to the philosophic gillie; he announced in the village +that Mrs. Jenkin—<i>die silberne Frau</i>, as the folk had +prettily named her from some silver ornaments—was a +‘<i>geborene Gräfin</i>’ who had married beneath +her; and when Fleeming explained what he called the English +theory (though indeed it was quite his own) of married relations, +Joseph, admiring but unconvinced, avowed it was ‘<i>gar +schön</i>.’ Joseph’s cousin, Walpurga +Moser, to an orchestra of clarionet and zither, taught the family +the country dances, the Steierisch and the Ländler, and +gained their hearts during the lessons. Her sister Loys, +too, who was up at the Alp with the cattle, came down to church +on Sundays, made acquaintance with the Jenkins, and must have +them up to see the sunrise from her house upon the Loser, where +they had supper and all slept in the loft among the hay. +The Mosers were not lost sight of; Walpurga still corresponds +with Mrs. Jenkin, and it was a late pleasure of Fleeming’s +to choose and despatch a wedding present for his little mountain +friend. This visit was brought to an end by a ball in the +big inn parlour; the refreshments chosen, the list of guests +drawn up, by Joseph; the best music of the place in attendance; +and hosts and guests in their best clothes. The ball was +opened by Mrs. Jenkin dancing Steierisch with a lordly Bauer, in +gray and silver and with a plumed hat; and Fleeming followed with +Walpurga Moser.</p> +<p>There ran a principle through all these holiday +pleasures. In Styria as in the Highlands, the same course +was followed: Fleeming threw himself as fully as he could into +the life and occupations of the native people, studying +everywhere their dances and their language, and conforming, +always with pleasure, to their rustic etiquette. Just as +the ball at Alt Aussee was designed for the taste of Joseph, the +parting feast at Attadale was ordered in every particular to the +taste of Murdoch the Keeper. Fleeming was not one of the +common, so-called gentlemen, who take the tricks of their own +coterie to be eternal principles of taste. He was aware, on +the other hand, that rustic people dwelling in their own places, +follow ancient rules with fastidious precision, and are easily +shocked and embarrassed by what (if they used the word) they +would have to call the vulgarity of visitors from town. And +he, who was so cavalier with men of his own class, was sedulous +to shield the more tender feelings of the peasant; he, who could +be so trying in a drawing-room, was even punctilious in the +cottage. It was in all respects a happy virtue. It +renewed his life, during these holidays, in all +particulars. It often entertained him with the discovery of +strange survivals; as when, by the orders of Murdoch, Mrs. Jenkin +must publicly taste of every dish before it was set before her +guests. And thus to throw himself into a fresh life and a +new school of manners was a grateful exercise of Fleeming’s +mimetic instinct; and to the pleasures of the open air, of +hardships supported, of dexterities improved and displayed, and +of plain and elegant society, added a spice of drama.</p> +<h3>II.</h3> +<p>Fleeming was all his life a lover of the play and all that +belonged to it. Dramatic literature he knew fully. He +was one of the not very numerous people who can read a play: a +knack, the fruit of much knowledge and some imagination, +comparable to that of reading score. Few men better +understood the artificial principles on which a play is good or +bad; few more unaffectedly enjoyed a piece of any merit of +construction. His own play was conceived with a double +design; for he had long been filled with his theory of the true +story of Griselda; used to gird at Father Chaucer for his +misconception; and was, perhaps first of all, moved by the desire +to do justice to the Marquis of Saluces, and perhaps only in the +second place, by the wish to treat a story (as he phrased it) +like a sum in arithmetic. I do not think he quite +succeeded; but I must own myself no fit judge. Fleeming and +I were teacher and taught as to the principles, disputatious +rivals in the practice, of dramatic writing.</p> +<p>Acting had always, ever since Rachel and the Marseillaise, a +particular power on him. ‘If I do not cry at the +play,’ he used to say, ‘I want to have my money +back.’ Even from a poor play with poor actors, he +could draw pleasure. ‘Giacometti’s +<i>Elisabetta</i>,’ I find him writing, ‘fetched the +house vastly. Poor Queen Elizabeth! And yet it was a +little good.’ And again, after a night of Salvini: +‘I do not suppose any one with feelings could sit out +<i>Othello</i>, if Iago and Desdemona were acted.’ +Salvini was, in his view, the greatest actor he had seen. +We were all indeed moved and bettered by the visit of that +wonderful man.—‘I declare I feel as if I could +pray!’ cried one of us, on the return from +<i>Hamlet</i>.—‘That is prayer,’ said +Fleeming. W. B. Hole and I, in a fine enthusiasm of +gratitude, determined to draw up an address to Salvini, did so, +and carried it to Fleeming; and I shall never forget with what +coldness he heard and deleted the eloquence of our draft, nor +with what spirit (our vanities once properly mortified) he threw +himself into the business of collecting signatures. It was +his part, on the ground of his Italian, to see and arrange with +the actor; it was mine to write in the <i>Academy</i> a notice of +the first performance of <i>Macbeth</i>. Fleeming opened +the paper, read so far, and flung it on the floor. +‘No,’ he cried, ‘that won’t do. You +were thinking of yourself, not of Salvini!’ The +criticism was shrewd as usual, but it was unfair through +ignorance; it was not of myself that I was thinking, but of the +difficulties of my trade which I had not well mastered. +Another unalloyed dramatic pleasure which Fleeming and I shared +the year of the Paris Exposition, was the <i>Marquis de +Villemer</i>, that blameless play, performed by Madeleine Brohan, +Delaunay, Worms, and Broisat—an actress, in such parts at +least, to whom I have never seen full justice rendered. He +had his fill of weeping on that occasion; and when the piece was +at an end, in front of a café, in the mild, midnight air, +we had our fill of talk about the art of acting.</p> +<p>But what gave the stage so strong a hold on Fleeming was an +inheritance from Norwich, from Edward Barron, and from Enfield of +the <i>Speaker</i>. The theatre was one of Edward +Barron’s elegant hobbies; he read plays, as became +Enfield’s son-in-law, with a good discretion; he wrote +plays for his family, in which Eliza Barron used to shine in the +chief parts; and later in life, after the Norwich home was broken +up, his little granddaughter would sit behind him in a great +armchair, and be introduced, with his stately elocution, to the +world of dramatic literature. From this, in a direct line, +we can deduce the charades at Claygate; and after money came, in +the Edinburgh days, that private theatre which took up so much of +Fleeming’s energy and thought. The company—Mr. +and Mrs. R. O. Carter of Colwall, W. B. Hole, Captain Charles +Douglas, Mr. Kunz, Mr. Burnett, Professor Lewis Campbell, Mr. +Charles Baxter, and many more—made a charming society for +themselves and gave pleasure to their audience. Mr. Carter +in Sir Toby Belch it would be hard to beat. Mr. Hole in +broad farce, or as the herald in the <i>Trachiniæ</i>, +showed true stage talent. As for Mrs. Jenkin, it was for +her the rest of us existed and were forgiven; her powers were an +endless spring of pride and pleasure to her husband; he spent +hours hearing and schooling her in private; and when it came to +the performance, though there was perhaps no one in the audience +more critical, none was more moved than Fleeming. The rest +of us did not aspire so high. There were always five +performances and weeks of busy rehearsal; and whether we came to +sit and stifle as the prompter, to be the dumb (or rather the +inarticulate) recipients of Carter’s dog whip in the +<i>Taming of the Shrew</i>, or having earned our spurs, to lose +one more illusion in a leading part, we were always sure at least +of a long and an exciting holiday in mirthful company.</p> +<p>In this laborious annual diversion, Fleeming’s part was +large. I never thought him an actor, but he was something +of a mimic, which stood him in stead. Thus he had seen Got +in Poirier; and his own Poirier, when he came to play it, +breathed meritoriously of the model. The last part I saw +him play was Triplet, and at first I thought it promised +well. But alas! the boys went for a holiday, missed a +train, and were not heard of at home till late at night. +Poor Fleeming, the man who never hesitated to give his sons a +chisel or a gun, or to send them abroad in a canoe or on a horse, +toiled all day at his rehearsal, growing hourly paler, Triplet +growing hourly less meritorious. And though the return of +the children, none the worse for their little adventure, brought +the colour back into his face, it could not restore him to his +part. I remember finding him seated on the stairs in some +rare moment of quiet during the subsequent performances. +‘Hullo, Jenkin,’ said I, ‘you look down in the +mouth.’—‘My dear boy,’ said he, +‘haven’t you heard me? I have not one decent +intonation from beginning to end.’</p> +<p>But indeed he never supposed himself an actor; took a part, +when he took any, merely for convenience, as one takes a hand at +whist; and found his true service and pleasure in the more +congenial business of the manager. Augier, Racine, +Shakespeare, Aristophanes in Hookham Frere’s translation, +Sophocles and Æschylus in Lewis Campbell’s, such were +some of the authors whom he introduced to his public. In +putting these upon the stage, he found a thousand exercises for +his ingenuity and taste, a thousand problems arising which he +delighted to study, a thousand opportunities to make these +infinitesimal improvements which are so much in art and for the +artist. Our first Greek play had been costumed by the +professional costumer, with unforgetable results of comicality +and indecorum: the second, the <i>Trachiniæ</i>, of +Sophocles, he took in hand himself, and a delightful task he made +of it. His study was then in antiquarian books, where he +found confusion, and on statues and bas-reliefs, where he at last +found clearness; after an hour or so at the British Museum, he +was able to master ‘the chitôn, sleeves and +all’; and before the time was ripe, he had a theory of +Greek tailoring at his fingers’ ends, and had all the +costumes made under his eye as a Greek tailor would have made +them. ‘The Greeks made the best plays and the best +statues, and were the best architects: of course, they were the +best tailors, too,’ said he; and was never weary, when he +could find a tolerant listener, of dwelling on the simplicity, +the economy, the elegance both of means and effect, which made +their system so delightful.</p> +<p>But there is another side to the stage-manager’s +employment. The discipline of acting is detestable; the +failures and triumphs of that business appeal too directly to the +vanity; and even in the course of a careful amateur performance +such as ours, much of the smaller side of man will be +displayed. Fleeming, among conflicting vanities and +levities, played his part to my admiration. He had his own +view; he might be wrong; but the performances (he would remind +us) were after all his, and he must decide. He was, in this +as in all other things, an iron taskmaster, sparing not himself +nor others. If you were going to do it at all, he would see +that it was done as well as you were able. I have known him +to keep two culprits (and one of these his wife) repeating the +same action and the same two or three words for a whole weary +afternoon. And yet he gained and retained warm feelings +from far the most of those who fell under his domination, and +particularly (it is pleasant to remember) from the girls. +After the slipshod training and the incomplete accomplishments of +a girls’ school, there was something at first annoying, at +last exciting and bracing, in this high standard of +accomplishment and perseverance.</p> +<h3>III.</h3> +<p>It did not matter why he entered upon any study or employment, +whether for amusement like the Greek tailoring or the Highland +reels, whether from a desire to serve the public as with his +sanitary work, or in the view of benefiting poorer men as with +his labours for technical education, he ‘pitched into +it’ (as he would have said himself) with the same headlong +zest. I give in the Appendix a letter from Colonel +Fergusson, which tells fully the nature of the sanitary work and +of Fleeming’s part and success in it. It will be +enough to say here that it was a scheme of protection against the +blundering of builders and the dishonesty of plumbers. +Started with an eye rather to the houses of the rich, Fleeming +hoped his Sanitary Associations would soon extend their sphere of +usefulness and improve the dwellings of the poor. In this +hope he was disappointed; but in all other ways the scheme +exceedingly prospered, associations sprang up and continue to +spring up in many quarters, and wherever tried they have been +found of use.</p> +<p>Here, then, was a serious employment; it has proved highly +useful to mankind; and it was begun besides, in a mood of +bitterness, under the shock of what Fleeming would so sensitively +feel—the death of a whole family of children. Yet it +was gone upon like a holiday jaunt. I read in Colonel +Fergusson’s letter that his schoolmates bantered him when +he began to broach his scheme; so did I at first, and he took the +banter as he always did with enjoyment, until he suddenly posed +me with the question: ‘And now do you see any other jokes +to make? Well, then,’ said he, ‘that’s +all right. I wanted you to have your fun out first; now we +can be serious.’ And then with a glowing heat of +pleasure, he laid his plans before me, revelling in the details, +revelling in hope. It was as he wrote about the joy of +electrical experiment. ‘What shall I compare them +to? A new song?—a Greek play?’ Delight +attended the exercise of all his powers; delight painted the +future. Of these ideal visions, some (as I have said) +failed of their fruition. And the illusion was +characteristic. Fleeming believed we had only to make a +virtue cheap and easy, and then all would practise it; that for +an end unquestionably good, men would not grudge a little trouble +and a little money, though they might stumble at laborious pains +and generous sacrifices. He could not believe in any +resolute badness. ‘I cannot quite say,’ he +wrote in his young manhood, ‘that I think there is no sin +or misery. This I can say: I do not remember one single +malicious act done to myself. In fact it is rather awkward +when I have to say the Lord’s Prayer. I have +nobody’s trespasses to forgive.’ And to the +point, I remember one of our discussions. I said it was a +dangerous error not to admit there were bad people; he, that it +was only a confession of blindness on our part, and that we +probably called others bad only so far as we were wrapped in +ourselves and lacking in the transmigratory forces of +imagination. I undertook to describe to him three persons +irredeemably bad and whom he should admit to be so. In the +first case, he denied my evidence: ‘You cannot judge a man +upon such testimony,’ said he. For the second, he +owned it made him sick to hear the tale; but then there was no +spark of malice, it was mere weakness I had described, and he had +never denied nor thought to set a limit to man’s +weakness. At my third gentleman, he struck his +colours. ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘I’m +afraid that is a bad man.’ And then looking at me +shrewdly: ‘I wonder if it isn’t a very unfortunate +thing for you to have met him.’ I showed him +radiantly how it was the world we must know, the world as it was, +not a world expurgated and prettified with optimistic +rainbows. ‘Yes, yes,’ said he; ‘but this +badness is such an easy, lazy explanation. Won’t you +be tempted to use it, instead of trying to understand +people?’</p> +<p>In the year 1878, he took a passionate fancy for the +phonograph: it was a toy after his heart, a toy that touched the +skirts of life, art, and science, a toy prolific of problems and +theories. Something fell to be done for a University +Cricket Ground Bazaar. ‘And the thought struck +him,’ Mr. Ewing writes to me, ‘to exhibit +Edison’s phonograph, then the very newest scientific +marvel. The instrument itself was not to be +purchased—I think no specimen had then crossed the +Atlantic—but a copy of the <i>Times</i> with an account of +it was at hand, and by the help of this we made a phonograph +which to our great joy talked, and talked, too, with the purest +American accent. It was so good that a second instrument +was got ready forthwith. Both were shown at the Bazaar: one +by Mrs. Jenkin to people willing to pay half a crown for a +private view and the privilege of hearing their own voices, while +Jenkin, perfervid as usual, gave half-hourly lectures on the +other in an adjoining room—I, as his lieutenant, taking +turns. The thing was in its way a little triumph. A +few of the visitors were deaf, and hugged the belief that they +were the victims of a new kind of fancy-fair swindle. Of +the others, many who came to scoff remained to take raffle +tickets; and one of the phonographs was finally disposed of in +this way, falling, by a happy freak of the ballot-box, into the +hands of Sir William Thomson.’ The other remained in +Fleeming’s hands, and was a source of infinite +occupation. Once it was sent to London, ‘to bring +back on the tinfoil the tones of a lady distinguished for clear +vocalisations; at another time Sir Robert Christison was brought +in to contribute his powerful bass’; and there scarcely +came a visitor about the house, but he was made the subject of +experiment. The visitors, I am afraid, took their parts +lightly: Mr. Hole and I, with unscientific laughter, +commemorating various shades of Scotch accent, or proposing to +‘teach the poor dumb animal to swear.’ But +Fleeming and Mr. Ewing, when we butterflies were gone, were +laboriously ardent. Many thoughts that occupied the later +years of my friend were caught from the small utterance of that +toy. Thence came his inquiries into the roots of articulate +language and the foundations of literary art; his papers on vowel +sounds, his papers in the <i>Saturday Review</i> upon the laws of +verse, and many a strange approximation, many a just note, thrown +out in talk and now forgotten. I pass over dozens of his +interests, and dwell on this trifling matter of the phonograph, +because it seems to me that it depicts the man. So, for +Fleeming, one thing joined into another, the greater with the +less. He cared not where it was he scratched the surface of +the ultimate mystery—in the child’s toy, in the great +tragedy, in the laws of the tempest, or in the properties of +energy or mass—certain that whatever he touched, it was a +part of life—and however he touched it, there would flow +for his happy constitution interest and delight. ‘All +fables have their morals,’ says Thoreau, ‘but the +innocent enjoy the story.’ There is a truth +represented for the imagination in these lines of a noble poem, +where we are told, that in our highest hours of visionary +clearness, we can but</p> +<blockquote><p> ‘see the +children sport upon the shore<br /> +And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>To this clearness Fleeming had attained; and although he heard +the voice of the eternal seas and weighed its message, he was yet +able, until the end of his life, to sport upon these shores of +death and mystery with the gaiety and innocence of children.</p> +<h3>IV.</h3> +<p>It was as a student that I first knew Fleeming, as one of that +modest number of young men who sat under his ministrations in a +soul-chilling class-room at the top of the University +buildings. His presence was against him as a professor: no +one, least of all students, would have been moved to respect him +at first sight: rather short in stature, markedly plain, boyishly +young in manner, cocking his head like a terrier with every mark +of the most engaging vivacity and readiness to be pleased, full +of words, full of paradox, a stranger could scarcely fail to look +at him twice, a man thrown with him in a train could scarcely +fail to be engaged by him in talk, but a student would never +regard him as academical. Yet he had that fibre in him that +order always existed in his class-room. I do not remember +that he ever addressed me in language; at the least sign of +unrest, his eye would fall on me and I was quelled. Such a +feat is comparatively easy in a small class; but I have +misbehaved in smaller classes and under eyes more Olympian than +Fleeming Jenkin’s. He was simply a man from whose +reproof one shrank; in manner the least buckrammed of mankind, he +had, in serious moments, an extreme dignity of goodness. So +it was that he obtained a power over the most insubordinate of +students, but a power of which I was myself unconscious. I +was inclined to regard any professor as a joke, and Fleeming as a +particularly good joke, perhaps the broadest in the vast +pleasantry of my curriculum. I was not able to follow his +lectures; I somehow dared not misconduct myself, as was my +customary solace; and I refrained from attending. This +brought me at the end of the session into a relation with my +contemned professor that completely opened my eyes. During +the year, bad student as I was, he had shown a certain leaning to +my society; I had been to his house, he had asked me to take a +humble part in his theatricals; I was a master in the art of +extracting a certificate even at the cannon’s mouth; and I +was under no apprehension. But when I approached Fleeming, +I found myself in another world; he would have naught of +me. ‘It is quite useless for <i>you</i> to come to +me, Mr. Stevenson. There may be doubtful cases, there is no +doubt about yours. You have simply <i>not</i> attended my +class.’ The document was necessary to me for family +considerations; and presently I stooped to such pleadings and +rose to such adjurations, as made my ears burn to remember. +He was quite unmoved; he had no pity for me.—‘You are +no fool,’ said he, ‘and you chose your +course.’ I showed him that he had misconceived his +duty, that certificates were things of form, attendance a matter +of taste. Two things, he replied, had been required for +graduation, a certain competency proved in the final trials and a +certain period of genuine training proved by certificate; if he +did as I desired, not less than if he gave me hints for an +examination, he was aiding me to steal a degree. ‘You +see, Mr. Stevenson, these are the laws and I am here to apply +them,’ said he. I could not say but that this view +was tenable, though it was new to me; I changed my attack: it was +only for my father’s eye that I required his signature, it +need never go to the Senatus, I had already certificates enough +to justify my year’s attendance. ‘Bring them to +me; I cannot take your word for that,’ said he. +‘Then I will consider.’ The next day I came +charged with my certificates, a humble assortment. And when +he had satisfied himself, ‘Remember,’ said he, +‘that I can promise nothing, but I will try to find a form +of words.’ He did find one, and I am still ashamed +when I think of his shame in giving me that paper. He made +no reproach in speech, but his manner was the more eloquent; it +told me plainly what a dirty business we were on; and I went from +his presence, with my certificate indeed in my possession, but +with no answerable sense of triumph. That was the bitter +beginning of my love for Fleeming; I never thought lightly of him +afterwards.</p> +<p>Once, and once only, after our friendship was truly founded, +did we come to a considerable difference. It was, by the +rules of poor humanity, my fault and his. I had been led to +dabble in society journalism; and this coming to his ears, he +felt it like a disgrace upon himself. So far he was exactly +in the right; but he was scarce happily inspired when he broached +the subject at his own table and before guests who were strangers +to me. It was the sort of error he was always ready to +repent, but always certain to repeat; and on this occasion he +spoke so freely that I soon made an excuse and left the house +with the firm purpose of returning no more. About a month +later, I met him at dinner at a common friend’s. +‘Now,’ said he, on the stairs, ‘I engage +you—like a lady to dance—for the end of the +evening. You have no right to quarrel with me and not give +me a chance.’ I have often said and thought that +Fleeming had no tact; he belied the opinion then. I +remember perfectly how, so soon as we could get together, he +began his attack: ‘You may have grounds of quarrel with me; +you have none against Mrs. Jenkin; and before I say another word, +I want you to promise you will come to <i>her</i> house as +usual.’ An interview thus begun could have but one +ending: if the quarrel were the fault of both, the merit of the +reconciliation was entirely Fleeming’s.</p> +<p>When our intimacy first began, coldly enough, accidentally +enough on his part, he had still something of the Puritan, +something of the inhuman narrowness of the good youth. It +fell from him slowly, year by year, as he continued to ripen, and +grow milder, and understand more generously the mingled +characters of men. In the early days he once read me a +bitter lecture; and I remember leaving his house in a fine spring +afternoon, with the physical darkness of despair upon my +eyesight. Long after he made me a formal retractation of +the sermon and a formal apology for the pain he had inflicted; +adding drolly, but truly, ‘You see, at that time I was so +much younger than you!’ And yet even in those days +there was much to learn from him; and above all his fine spirit +of piety, bravely and trustfully accepting life, and his singular +delight in the heroic.</p> +<p>His piety was, indeed, a thing of chief importance. His +views (as they are called) upon religious matters varied much; +and he could never be induced to think them more or less than +views. ‘All dogma is to me mere form,’ he +wrote; ‘dogmas are mere blind struggles to express the +inexpressible. I cannot conceive that any single +proposition whatever in religion is true in the scientific sense; +and yet all the while I think the religious view of the world is +the most true view. Try to separate from the mass of their +statements that which is common to Socrates, Isaiah, David, St. +Bernard, the Jansenists, Luther, Mahomet, Bunyan—yes, and +George Eliot: of course you do not believe that this something +could be written down in a set of propositions like Euclid, +neither will you deny that there is something common and this +something very valuable. . . . I shall be sorry if the boys ever +give a moment’s thought to the question of what community +they belong to—I hope they will belong to the great +community.’ I should observe that as time went on his +conformity to the church in which he was born grew more complete, +and his views drew nearer the conventional. ‘The +longer I live, my dear Louis,’ he wrote but a few months +before his death, ‘the more convinced I become of a direct +care by God—which is reasonably impossible—but there +it is.’ And in his last year he took the +communion.</p> +<p>But at the time when I fell under his influence, he stood more +aloof; and this made him the more impressive to a youthful +atheist. He had a keen sense of language and its imperial +influence on men; language contained all the great and sound +metaphysics, he was wont to say; and a word once made and +generally understood, he thought a real victory of man and +reason. But he never dreamed it could be accurate, knowing +that words stand symbol for the indefinable. I came to him +once with a problem which had puzzled me out of measure: what is +a cause? why out of so many innumerable millions of conditions, +all necessary, should one be singled out and ticketed ‘the +cause’? ‘You do not understand,’ said +he. ‘A cause is the answer to a question: it +designates that condition which I happen to know and you happen +not to know.’ It was thus, with partial exception of +the mathematical, that he thought of all means of reasoning: they +were in his eyes but means of communication, so to be understood, +so to be judged, and only so far to be credited. The +mathematical he made, I say, exception of: number and measure he +believed in to the extent of their significance, but that +significance, he was never weary of reminding you, was slender to +the verge of nonentity. Science was true, because it told +us almost nothing. With a few abstractions it could deal, +and deal correctly; conveying honestly faint truths. Apply +its means to any concrete fact of life, and this high dialect of +the wise became a childish jargon.</p> +<p>Thus the atheistic youth was met at every turn by a scepticism +more complete than his own, so that the very weapons of the fight +were changed in his grasp to swords of paper. Certainly the +church is not right, he would argue, but certainly not the +anti-church either. Men are not such fools as to be wholly +in the wrong, nor yet are they so placed as to be ever wholly in +the right. Somewhere, in mid air between the disputants, +like hovering Victory in some design of a Greek battle, the truth +hangs undiscerned. And in the meanwhile what matter these +uncertainties? Right is very obvious; a great consent of +the best of mankind, a loud voice within us (whether of God, or +whether by inheritance, and in that case still from God), guide +and command us in the path of duty. He saw life very +simple; he did not love refinements; he was a friend to much +conformity in unessentials. For (he would argue) it is in +this life as it stands about us, that we are given our problem; +the manners of the day are the colours of our palette; they +condition, they constrain us; and a man must be very sure he is +in the right, must (in a favourite phrase of his) be +‘either very wise or very vain,’ to break with any +general consent in ethics. I remember taking his advice +upon some point of conduct. ‘Now,’ he said, +‘how do you suppose Christ would have advised you?’ +and when I had answered that he would not have counselled me +anything unkind or cowardly, ‘No,’ he said, with one +of his shrewd strokes at the weakness of his hearer, ‘nor +anything amusing.’ Later in life, he made less +certain in the field of ethics. ‘The old story of the +knowledge of good and evil is a very true one,’ I find him +writing; only (he goes on) ‘the effect of the original dose +is much worn out, leaving Adam’s descendants with the +knowledge that there is such a thing—but uncertain +where.’ His growing sense of this ambiguity made him +less swift to condemn, but no less stimulating in counsel. +‘You grant yourself certain freedoms. Very +well,’ he would say, ‘I want to see you pay for them +some other way. You positively cannot do this: then there +positively must be something else that you can do, and I want to +see you find that out and do it.’ Fleeming would +never suffer you to think that you were living, if there were +not, somewhere in your life, some touch of heroism, to do or to +endure.</p> +<p>This was his rarest quality. Far on in middle age, when +men begin to lie down with the bestial goddesses, Comfort and +Respectability, the strings of his nature still sounded as high a +note as a young man’s. He loved the harsh voice of +duty like a call to battle. He loved courage, enterprise, +brave natures, a brave word, an ugly virtue; everything that +lifts us above the table where we eat or the bed we sleep +upon. This with no touch of the motive-monger or the +ascetic. He loved his virtues to be practical, his heroes +to be great eaters of beef; he loved the jovial Heracles, loved +the astute Odysseus; not the Robespierres and Wesleys. A +fine buoyant sense of life and of man’s unequal character +ran through all his thoughts. He could not tolerate the +spirit of the pick-thank; being what we are, he wished us to see +others with a generous eye of admiration, not with the smallness +of the seeker after faults. If there shone anywhere a +virtue, no matter how incongruously set, it was upon the virtue +we must fix our eyes. I remember having found much +entertainment in Voltaire’s <i>Saül</i>, and telling +him what seemed to me the drollest touches. He heard me +out, as usual when displeased, and then opened fire on me with +red-hot shot. To belittle a noble story was easy; it was +not literature, it was not art, it was not morality; there was no +sustenance in such a form of jesting, there was (in his favourite +phrase) ‘no nitrogenous food’ in such +literature. And then he proceeded to show what a fine +fellow David was; and what a hard knot he was in about Bathsheba, +so that (the initial wrong committed) honour might well hesitate +in the choice of conduct; and what owls those people were who +marvelled because an Eastern tyrant had killed Uriah, instead of +marvelling that he had not killed the prophet also. +‘Now if Voltaire had helped me to feel that,’ said +he, ‘I could have seen some fun in it.’ He +loved the comedy which shows a hero human, and yet leaves him a +hero, and the laughter which does not lessen love.</p> +<p>It was this taste for what is fine in human-kind, that ruled +his choice in books. These should all strike a high note, +whether brave or tender, and smack of the open air. The +noble and simple presentation of things noble and simple, that +was the ‘nitrogenous food’ of which he spoke so much, +which he sought so eagerly, enjoyed so royally. He wrote to +an author, the first part of whose story he had seen with +sympathy, hoping that it might continue in the same vein. +‘That this may be so,’ he wrote, ‘I long with +the longing of David for the water of Bethlehem. But no man +need die for the water a poet can give, and all can drink it to +the end of time, and their thirst be quenched and the pool never +dry—and the thirst and the water are both +blessed.’ It was in the Greeks particularly that he +found this blessed water; he loved ‘a fresh air’ +which he found ‘about the Greek things even in +translations’; he loved their freedom from the mawkish and +the rancid. The tale of David in the Bible, the +<i>Odyssey</i>, Sophocles, Æschylus, Shakespeare, Scott; +old Dumas in his chivalrous note; Dickens rather than Thackeray, +and the <i>Tale of Two Cities</i> out of Dickens: such were some +of his preferences. To Ariosto and Boccaccio he was always +faithful; <i>Burnt Njal</i> was a late favourite; and he found at +least a passing entertainment in the <i>Arcadia</i> and the +<i>Grand Cyrus</i>. George Eliot he outgrew, finding her +latterly only sawdust in the mouth; but her influence, while it +lasted, was great, and must have gone some way to form his +mind. He was easily set on edge, however, by didactic +writing; and held that books should teach no other lesson but +what ‘real life would teach, were it as vividly +presented.’ Again, it was the thing made that took +him, the drama in the book; to the book itself, to any merit of +the making, he was long strangely blind. He would prefer +the <i>Agamemnon</i> in the prose of Mr. Buckley, ay, to +Keats. But he was his mother’s son, learning to the +last. He told me one day that literature was not a trade; +that it was no craft; that the professed author was merely an +amateur with a door-plate. ‘Very well,’ said I, +‘the first time you get a proof, I will demonstrate that it +is as much a trade as bricklaying, and that you do not know +it.’ By the very next post, a proof came. I +opened it with fear; for he was indeed, as the reader will see by +these volumes, a formidable amateur; always wrote brightly, +because he always thought trenchantly; and sometimes wrote +brilliantly, as the worst of whistlers may sometimes stumble on a +perfect intonation. But it was all for the best in the +interests of his education; and I was able, over that proof, to +give him a quarter of an hour such as Fleeming loved both to give +and to receive. His subsequent training passed out of my +hands into those of our common friend, W. E. Henley. +‘Henley and I,’ he wrote, ‘have fairly good +times wigging one another for not doing better. I wig him +because he won’t try to write a real play, and he wigs me +because I can’t try to write English.’ When I +next saw him, he was full of his new acquisitions. +‘And yet I have lost something too,’ he said +regretfully. ‘Up to now Scott seemed to me quite +perfect, he was all I wanted. Since I have been learning +this confounded thing, I took up one of the novels, and a great +deal of it is both careless and clumsy.’</p> +<h3>V.</h3> +<p>He spoke four languages with freedom, not even English with +any marked propriety. What he uttered was not so much well +said, as excellently acted: so we may hear every day the +inexpressive language of a poorly-written drama assume character +and colour in the hands of a good player. No man had more +of the <i>vis comica</i> in private life; he played no character +on the stage, as he could play himself among his friends. +It was one of his special charms; now when the voice is silent +and the face still, it makes it impossible to do justice to his +power in conversation. He was a delightful companion to +such as can bear bracing weather; not to the very vain; not to +the owlishly wise, who cannot have their dogmas canvassed; not to +the painfully refined, whose sentiments become articles of +faith. The spirit in which he could write that he was +‘much revived by having an opportunity of abusing Whistler +to a knot of his special admirers,’ is a spirit apt to be +misconstrued. He was not a dogmatist, even about +Whistler. ‘The house is full of pretty things,’ +he wrote, when on a visit; ‘but Mrs. —’s taste +in pretty things has one very bad fault: it is not my +taste.’ And that was the true attitude of his mind; +but these eternal differences it was his joy to thresh out and +wrangle over by the hour. It was no wonder if he loved the +Greeks; he was in many ways a Greek himself; he should have been +a sophist and met Socrates; he would have loved Socrates, and +done battle with him staunchly and manfully owned his defeat; and +the dialogue, arranged by Plato, would have shown even in +Plato’s gallery. He seemed in talk aggressive, +petulant, full of a singular energy; as vain you would have said +as a peacock, until you trod on his toes, and then you saw that +he was at least clear of all the sicklier elements of +vanity. Soundly rang his laugh at any jest against +himself. He wished to be taken, as he took others, for what +was good in him without dissimulation of the evil, for what was +wise in him without concealment of the childish. He hated a +draped virtue, and despised a wit on its own defence. And +he drew (if I may so express myself) a human and humorous +portrait of himself with all his defects and qualities, as he +thus enjoyed in talk the robust sports of the intelligence; +giving and taking manfully, always without pretence, always with +paradox, always with exuberant pleasure; speaking wisely of what +he knew, foolishly of what he knew not; a teacher, a learner, but +still combative; picking holes in what was said even to the +length of captiousness, yet aware of all that was said rightly; +jubilant in victory, delighted by defeat: a Greek sophist, a +British schoolboy.</p> +<p>Among the legends of what was once a very pleasant spot, the +old Savile Club, not then divorced from Savile Row, there are +many memories of Fleeming. He was not popular at first, +being known simply as ‘the man who dines here and goes up +to Scotland’; but he grew at last, I think, the most +generally liked of all the members. To those who truly knew +and loved him, who had tasted the real sweetness of his nature, +Fleeming’s porcupine ways had always been a matter of keen +regret. They introduced him to their own friends with fear; +sometimes recalled the step with mortification. It was not +possible to look on with patience while a man so lovable thwarted +love at every step. But the course of time and the ripening +of his nature brought a cure. It was at the Savile that he +first remarked a change; it soon spread beyond the walls of the +club. Presently I find him writing: ‘Will you kindly +explain what has happened to me? All my life I have talked +a good deal, with the almost unfailing result of making people +sick of the sound of my tongue. It appeared to me that I +had various things to say, and I had no malevolent feelings, but +nevertheless the result was that expressed above. Well, +lately some change has happened. If I talk to a person one +day, they must have me the next. Faces light up when they +see me.—“Ah, I say, come +here,”—“come and dine with me.” +It’s the most preposterous thing I ever experienced. +It is curiously pleasant. You have enjoyed it all your +life, and therefore cannot conceive how bewildering a burst of it +is for the first time at forty-nine.’ And this late +sunshine of popularity still further softened him. He was a +bit of a porcupine to the last, still shedding darts; or rather +he was to the end a bit of a schoolboy, and must still throw +stones, but the essential toleration that underlay his +disputatiousness, and the kindness that made of him a tender +sicknurse and a generous helper, shone more conspicuously +through. A new pleasure had come to him; and as with all +sound natures, he was bettered by the pleasure.</p> +<p>I can best show Fleeming in this later stage by quoting from a +vivid and interesting letter of M. Emile +Trélat’s. Here, admirably expressed, is how he +appeared to a friend of another nation, whom he encountered only +late in life. M. Trélat will pardon me if I correct, +even before I quote him; but what the Frenchman supposed to flow +from some particular bitterness against France, was only +Fleeming’s usual address. Had M. Trélat been +Italian, Italy would have fared as ill; and yet Italy was +Fleeming’s favourite country.</p> +<blockquote><p>Vous savez comment j’ai connu Fleeming +Jenkin! C’était en Mai 1878. Nous +étions tous deux membres du jury de l’Exposition +Universelle. On n’avait rien fait qui vaille à +la première séance de notre classe, qui avait eu +lieu le matin. Tout le monde avait parlé et +reparlé pour ne rien dire. Cela durait depuis huit +heures; il était midi. Je demandai la parole pour +une motion d’ordre, et je proposai que la séance fut +levée à la condition que chaque membre +français, <i>emportât</i> à déjeuner +un juré étranger. Jenkin applaudit. +‘Je vous emmène déjeuner,’ lui +criai-je. ‘Je veux bien.’ . . . Nous +partîmes; en chemin nous vous rencontrions; il vous +présente et nous allons déjeuner tous trois +auprès du Trocadéro.</p> +<p>Et, depuis ce temps, nous avons été de vieux +amis. Non seulement nous passions nos journées au +jury, où nous étions toujours ensemble, +côte-à-côte. Mais nos habitudes +s’étaient faites telles que, non contents de +déjeuner en face l’un de l’autre, je le +ramenais dîner presque tous les jours chez moi. Cela +dura une quinzaine: puis il fut rappelé en +Angleterre. Mais il revint, et nous fîmes encore une +bonne étape de vie intellectuelle, morale et +philosophique. Je crois qu’il me rendait +déjà tout ce que j’éprouvais de +sympathie et d’estime, et que je ne fus pas pour rien dans +son retour à Paris.</p> +<p>Chose singulière! nous nous étions +attachés l’un à l’autre par les +sous-entendus bien plus que par la matière de nos +conversations. À vrai dire, nous étions +presque toujours en discussion; et il nous arrivait de nous rire +au nez l’un et l’autre pendant des heures, tant nous +nous étonnions réciproquement de la +diversité de nos points de vue. Je le trouvais si +Anglais, et il me trouvais si Français! Il +était si franchement révolté de certaines +choses qu’il voyait chez nous, et je comprenais si mal +certaines choses qui se passaient chez vous! Rien de plus +intéressant que ces contacts qui étaient des +contrastes, et que ces rencontres d’idées qui +étaient des choses; rien de si attachant que les +échappées de cœur ou d’esprit +auxquelles ces petits conflits donnaient à tout moment +cours. C’est dans ces conditions que, pendant son +séjour à Paris en 1878, je conduisis un peu partout +mon nouvel ami. Nous allâmes chez Madame Edmond Adam, +où il vit passer beaucoup d’hommes politiques avec +lesquels il causa. Mais c’est chez les ministres +qu’il fut intéressé. Le moment +était, d’ailleurs, curieux en France. Je me +rappelle que, lorsque je le présentai au Ministre du +Commerce, il fit cette spirituelle repartie: ‘C’est +la seconde fois que je viens en France sous la +République. La première fois, +c’était en 1848, elle s’était +coiffée de travers: je suis bien heureux de saluer +aujourd’hui votre excellence, quand elle a mis son chapeau +droit.’ Une fois je le menai voir couronner la +Rosière de Nanterre. Il y suivit les +cérémonies civiles et religieuses; il y assista au +banquet donné par le Maire; il y vit notre de Lesseps, +auquel il porta un toast. Le soir, nous revînmes tard +à Paris; il faisait chaud; nous étions un peu +fatigués; nous entrâmes dans un des rares +cafés encore ouverts. Il devint +silencieux.—‘N’êtes-vous pas content de +votre journée?’ lui dis-je.—‘O, si! mais +je réfléchis, et je me dis que vous êtes un +peuple gai—tous ces braves gens étaient gais +aujourd’hui. C’est une vertu, la gaieté, +et vous l’avez en France, cette vertu!’ Il me +disait cela mélancoliquement; et c’était la +première fois que je lui entendais faire une louange +adressée à la France. . . . Mais il ne faut pas que +vous voyiez là une plainte de ma part. Je serais un +ingrat si je me plaignais; car il me disait souvent: ‘Quel +bon Français vous faites!’ Et il +m’aimait à cause de cela, quoiqu’il +semblât n’aimer pas la France. +C’était là un trait de son +originalité. Il est vrai qu’il s’en +tirait en disant que je ne ressemblai pas à mes +compatriotes, ce à quoi il ne connaissait rien!—Tout +cela était fort curieux; car, moi-même, je +l’aimais quoiqu’il en eût à mon +pays!</p> +<p>En 1879 il amena son fils Austin à Paris. +J’attirai celui-ci. Il déjeunait avec moi deux +fois par semaine. Je lui montrai ce qu’était +l’intimité française en le tutoyant +paternellement. Cela reserra beaucoup nos liens +d’intimité avec Jenkin. . . . Je fis inviter mon ami +au congrès de l’<i>Association française pour +l’avancement des sciences</i>, qui se tenait à +Rheims en 1880. Il y vint. J’eus le plaisir de +lui donner la parole dans la section du génie civil et +militaire, que je présidais. Il y fit une +très intéressante communication, qui me montrait +une fois de plus l’originalité de ses vues et la +sûreté de sa science. C’est à +l’issue de ce congrès que je passai lui faire visite +à Rochefort, où je le trouvai installé en +famille et où je présentai pour la première +fois mes hommages à son éminente compagne. Je +le vis là sous un jour nouveau et touchant pour moi. +Madame Jenkin, qu’il entourait si galamment, et ses deux +jeunes fils donnaient encore plus de relief à sa +personne. J’emportai des quelques heures que je +passai à côte de lui dans ce charmant paysage un +souvenir ému.</p> +<p>J’étais allé en Angleterre en 1882 sans +pouvoir gagner Edimbourg. J’y retournai en 1883 avec +la commission d’assainissement de la ville de Paris, dont +je faisais partie. Jenkin me rejoignit. Je le fis +entendre par mes collègues; car il était fondateur +d’une société de salubrité. Il +eut un grand succès parmi nous. Mais ce voyage me +restera toujours en mémoire parce que c’est +là que se fixa défenitivement notre forte +amitié. Il m’invita un jour à +dîner à son club et au moment de me faire asseoir +à côté de lui, il me retint et me dit: +‘Je voudrais vous demander de m’accorder quelque +chose. C’est mon sentiment que nos relations ne +peuvent pas se bien continuer si vous ne me donnez pas la +permission de vous tutoyer. Voulez-vous que nous nous +tutoyions?’ Je lui pris les mains et je lui dis +qu’une pareille proposition venant d’un Anglais, et +d’un Anglais de sa haute distinction, c’était +une victoire, dont je serais fier toute ma vie. Et nous +commencions à user de cette nouvelle forme dans nos +rapports. Vous savez avec quelle finesse il parlait le +français: comme il en connaissait tous les tours, comme il +jouait avec ses difficultés, et même avec ses +petites gamineries. Je crois qu’il a +été heureux de pratiquer avec moi ce tutoiement, +qui ne s’adapte pas à l’anglais, et qui est si +français. Je ne puis vous peindre +l’étendue et la variété de nos +conversations de la soirée. Mais ce que je puis vous +dire, c’est que, sous la caresse du <i>tu</i>, nos +idées se sont élevées. Nous avions +toujours beaucoup ri ensemble; mais nous n’avions jamais +laissé des banalités s’introduire dans nos +échanges de pensées. Ce soir-là, notre +horizon intellectuel s’est élargie, et nous y avons +poussé des reconnaissances profondes et lointaines. +Après avoir vivement causé à table, nous +avons longuement causé au salon; et nous nous +séparions le soir à Trafalgar Square, après +avoir longé les trottoirs, stationné aux coins des +rues et deux fois rebroussé chemin en nous reconduisant +l’un l’autre. Il était près +d’une heure du matin! Mais quelle belle passe +d’argumentation, quels beaux échanges de sentiments, +quelles fortes confidences patriotiques nous avions +fournies! J’ai compris ce soir là que Jenkin +ne détestait pas la France, et je lui serrai fort les +mains en l’embrassant. Nous nous quittions aussi amis +qu’on puisse l’être; et notre affection +s’était par lui étendue et comprise dans un +<i>tu</i> français.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2>CHAPTER VII. 1875–1885.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm">Mrs. Jenkin’s Illness—Captain +Jenkin—The Golden Wedding—Death of Uncle +John—Death of Mr. and Mrs. Austin—Illness and Death +of the Captain—Death of Mrs. Jenkin—Effect on +Fleeming—Telpherage—The End.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">And</span> now I must resume my narrative +for that melancholy business that concludes all human +histories. In January of the year 1875, while +Fleeming’s sky was still unclouded, he was reading +Smiles. ‘I read my engineers’ lives +steadily,’ he writes, ‘but find biographies +depressing. I suspect one reason to be that misfortunes and +trials can be graphically described, but happiness and the causes +of happiness either cannot be or are not. A grand new +branch of literature opens to my view: a drama in which people +begin in a poor way and end, after getting gradually happier, in +an ecstasy of enjoyment. The common novel is not the thing +at all. It gives struggle followed by relief. I want +each act to close on a new and triumphant happiness, which has +been steadily growing all the while. This is the real +antithesis of tragedy, where things get blacker and blacker and +end in hopeless woe. Smiles has not grasped my grand idea, +and only shows a bitter struggle followed by a little respite +before death. Some feeble critic might say my new idea was +not true to nature. I’m sick of this old-fashioned +notion of art. Hold a mirror up, indeed! Let’s +paint a picture of how things ought to be and hold that up to +nature, and perhaps the poor old woman may repent and mend her +ways.’ The ‘grand idea’ might be possible +in art; not even the ingenuity of nature could so round in the +actual life of any man. And yet it might almost seem to +fancy that she had read the letter and taken the hint; for to +Fleeming the cruelties of fate were strangely blended with +tenderness, and when death came, it came harshly to others, to +him not unkindly.</p> +<p>In the autumn of that same year 1875, Fleeming’s father +and mother were walking in the garden of their house at +Merchiston, when the latter fell to the ground. It was +thought at the time to be a stumble; it was in all likelihood a +premonitory stroke of palsy. From that day, there fell upon +her an abiding panic fear; that glib, superficial part of us that +speaks and reasons could allege no cause, science itself could +find no mark of danger, a son’s solicitude was laid at +rest; but the eyes of the body saw the approach of a blow, and +the consciousness of the body trembled at its coming. It +came in a moment; the brilliant, spirited old lady leapt from her +bed, raving. For about six months, this stage of her +disease continued with many painful and many pathetic +circumstances; her husband who tended her, her son who was +unwearied in his visits, looked for no change in her condition +but the change that comes to all. ‘Poor +mother,’ I find Fleeming writing, ‘I cannot get the +tones of her voice out of my head. . . I may have to bear this +pain for a long time; and so I am bearing it and sparing myself +whatever pain seems useless. Mercifully I do sleep, I am so +weary that I must sleep.’ And again later: ‘I +could do very well, if my mind did not revert to my poor +mother’s state whenever I stop attending to matters +immediately before me.’ And the next day: ‘I +can never feel a moment’s pleasure without having my +mother’s suffering recalled by the very feeling of +happiness. A pretty, young face recalls hers by +contrast—a careworn face recalls it by association. I +tell you, for I can speak to no one else; but do not suppose that +I wilfully let my mind dwell on sorrow.’</p> +<p>In the summer of the next year, the frenzy left her; it left +her stone deaf and almost entirely aphasic, but with some remains +of her old sense and courage. Stoutly she set to work with +dictionaries, to recover her lost tongues; and had already made +notable progress, when a third stroke scattered her +acquisitions. Thenceforth, for nearly ten years, stroke +followed upon stroke, each still further jumbling the threads of +her intelligence, but by degrees so gradual and with such +partiality of loss and of survival, that her precise state was +always and to the end a matter of dispute. She still +remembered her friends; she still loved to learn news of them +upon the slate; she still read and marked the list of the +subscription library; she still took an interest in the choice of +a play for the theatricals, and could remember and find parallel +passages; but alongside of these surviving powers, were lapses as +remarkable, she misbehaved like a child, and a servant had to sit +with her at table. To see her so sitting, speaking with the +tones of a deaf mute not always to the purpose, and to remember +what she had been, was a moving appeal to all who knew her. +Such was the pathos of these two old people in their affliction, +that even the reserve of cities was melted and the neighbours +vied in sympathy and kindness. Where so many were more than +usually helpful, it is hard to draw distinctions; but I am +directed and I delight to mention in particular the good Dr. +Joseph Bell, Mr. Thomas, and Mr. Archibald Constable with both +their wives, the Rev. Mr. Belcombe (of whose good heart and taste +I do not hear for the first time—the news had come to me by +way of the Infirmary), and their next-door neighbour, unwearied +in service, Miss Hannah Mayne. Nor should I omit to mention +that John Ruffini continued to write to Mrs. Jenkin till his own +death, and the clever lady known to the world as Vernon Lee until +the end: a touching, a becoming attention to what was only the +wreck and survival of their brilliant friend.</p> +<p>But he to whom this affliction brought the greatest change was +the Captain himself. What was bitter in his lot, he bore +with unshaken courage; only once, in these ten years of trial, +has Mrs. Fleeming Jenkin seen him weep; for the rest of the time +his wife—his commanding officer, now become his trying +child—was served not with patience alone, but with a lovely +happiness of temper. He had belonged all his life to the +ancient, formal, speechmaking, compliment-presenting school of +courtesy; the dictates of this code partook in his eyes of the +nature of a duty; and he must now be courteous for two. +Partly from a happy illusion, partly in a tender fraud, he kept +his wife before the world as a still active partner. When +he paid a call, he would have her write ‘with love’ +upon a card; or if that (at the moment) was too much, he would go +armed with a bouquet and present it in her name. He even +wrote letters for her to copy and sign: an innocent substitution, +which may have caused surprise to Ruffini or to Vernon Lee, if +they ever received, in the hand of Mrs. Jenkin the very obvious +reflections of her husband. He had always adored this wife +whom he now tended and sought to represent in correspondence: it +was now, if not before, her turn to repay the compliment; mind +enough was left her to perceive his unwearied kindness; and as +her moral qualities seemed to survive quite unimpaired, a +childish love and gratitude were his reward. She would +interrupt a conversation to cross the room and kiss him. If +she grew excited (as she did too often) it was his habit to come +behind her chair and pat her shoulder; and then she would turn +round, and clasp his hand in hers, and look from him to her +visitor with a face of pride and love; and it was at such moments +only that the light of humanity revived in her eyes. It was +hard for any stranger, it was impossible for any that loved them, +to behold these mute scenes, to recall the past, and not to +weep. But to the Captain, I think it was all +happiness. After these so long years, he had found his wife +again; perhaps kinder than ever before; perhaps now on a more +equal footing; certainly, to his eyes, still beautiful. And +the call made on his intelligence had not been made in +vain. The merchants of Aux Cayes, who had seen him tried in +some ‘counter-revolution’ in 1845, wrote to the +consul of his ‘able and decided measures,’ ‘his +cool, steady judgment and discernment’ with admiration; and +of himself, as ‘a credit and an ornament to H. M. Naval +Service.’ It is plain he must have sunk in all his +powers, during the years when he was only a figure, and often a +dumb figure, in his wife’s drawing-room; but with this new +term of service, he brightened visibly. He showed tact and +even invention in managing his wife, guiding or restraining her +by the touch, holding family worship so arranged that she could +follow and take part in it. He took (to the world’s +surprise) to reading—voyages, biographies, Blair’s +<i>Sermons</i>, even (for her letter’s sake) a work of +Vernon Lee’s, which proved, however, more than he was quite +prepared for. He shone more, in his remarkable way, in +society; and twice he had a little holiday to Glenmorven, where, +as may be fancied, he was the delight of the Highlanders. +One of his last pleasures was to arrange his dining-room. +Many and many a room (in their wandering and thriftless +existence) had he seen his wife furnish with exquisite taste, and +perhaps with ‘considerable luxury’: now it was his +turn to be the decorator. On the wall he had an engraving +of Lord Rodney’s action, showing the <i>Prothée</i>, +his father’s ship, if the reader recollects; on either side +of this on brackets, his father’s sword, and his +father’s telescope, a gift from Admiral Buckner, who had +used it himself during the engagement; higher yet, the head of +his grandson’s first stag, portraits of his son and his +son’s wife, and a couple of old Windsor jugs from Mrs. +Buckner’s. But his simple trophy was not yet +complete; a device had to be worked and framed and hung below the +engraving; and for this he applied to his daughter-in-law: +‘I want you to work me something, Annie. An anchor at +each side—an anchor—stands for an old sailor, you +know—stands for hope, you know—an anchor at each +side, and in the middle <span +class="smcap">Thankful</span>.’ It is not easy, on +any system of punctuation, to represent the Captain’s +speech. Yet I hope there may shine out of these facts, even +as there shone through his own troubled utterance, some of the +charm of that delightful spirit.</p> +<p>In 1881, the time of the golden wedding came round for that +sad and pretty household. It fell on a Good Friday, and its +celebration can scarcely be recalled without both smiles and +tears. The drawing-room was filled with presents and +beautiful bouquets; these, to Fleeming and his family, the golden +bride and bridegroom displayed with unspeakable pride, she so +painfully excited that the guests feared every moment to see her +stricken afresh, he guiding and moderating her with his customary +tact and understanding, and doing the honours of the day with +more than his usual delight. Thence they were brought to +the dining-room, where the Captain’s idea of a feast +awaited them: tea and champagne, fruit and toast and childish +little luxuries, set forth pell-mell and pressed at random on the +guests. And here he must make a speech for himself and his +wife, praising their destiny, their marriage, their son, their +daughter-in-law, their grandchildren, their manifold causes of +gratitude: surely the most innocent speech, the old, sharp +contemner of his innocence now watching him with eyes of +admiration. Then it was time for the guests to depart; and +they went away, bathed, even to the youngest child, in tears of +inseparable sorrow and gladness, and leaving the golden bride and +bridegroom to their own society and that of the hired nurse.</p> +<p>It was a great thing for Fleeming to make, even thus late, the +acquaintance of his father; but the harrowing pathos of such +scenes consumed him. In a life of tense intellectual +effort, a certain smoothness of emotional tenor were to be +desired; or we burn the candle at both ends. Dr. Bell +perceived the evil that was being done; he pressed Mrs. Jenkin to +restrain her husband from too frequent visits; but here was one +of those clear-cut, indubitable duties for which Fleeming lived, +and he could not pardon even the suggestion of neglect.</p> +<p>And now, after death had so long visibly but still innocuously +hovered above the family, it began at last to strike and its +blows fell thick and heavy. The first to go was uncle John +Jenkin, taken at last from his Mexican dwelling and the lost +tribes of Israel; and nothing in this remarkable old +gentleman’s life, became him like the leaving of it. +His sterling, jovial acquiescence in man’s destiny was a +delight to Fleeming. ‘My visit to Stowting has been a +very strange but not at all a painful one,’ he wrote. +‘In case you ever wish to make a person die as he ought to +die in a novel,’ he said to me, ‘I must tell you all +about my old uncle.’ He was to see a nearer instance +before long; for this family of Jenkin, if they were not very +aptly fitted to live, had the art of manly dying. Uncle +John was but an outsider after all; he had dropped out of hail of +his nephew’s way of life and station in society, and was +more like some shrewd, old, humble friend who should have kept a +lodge; yet he led the procession of becoming deaths, and began in +the mind of Fleeming that train of tender and grateful thought, +which was like a preparation for his own. Already I find +him writing in the plural of ‘these impending +deaths’; already I find him in quest of consolation. +‘There is little pain in store for these wayfarers,’ +he wrote, ‘and we have hope—more than hope, +trust.’</p> +<p>On May 19, 1884, Mr. Austin was taken. He was +seventy-eight years of age, suffered sharply with all his old +firmness, and died happy in the knowledge that he had left his +wife well cared for. This had always been a bosom concern; +for the Barrons were long-lived and he believed that she would +long survive him. But their union had been so full and +quiet that Mrs. Austin languished under the separation. In +their last years, they would sit all evening in their own +drawing-room hand in hand: two old people who, for all their +fundamental differences, had yet grown together and become all +the world in each other’s eyes and hearts; and it was felt +to be a kind release, when eight months after, on January 14, +1885, Eliza Barron followed Alfred Austin. ‘I wish I +could save you from all pain,’ wrote Fleeming six days +later to his sorrowing wife, ‘I would if I could—but +my way is not God’s way; and of this be +assured,—God’s way is best.’</p> +<p>In the end of the same month, Captain Jenkin caught cold and +was confined to bed. He was so unchanged in spirit that at +first there seemed no ground of fear; but his great age began to +tell, and presently it was plain he had a summons. The +charm of his sailor’s cheerfulness and ancient courtesy, as +he lay dying, is not to be described. There he lay, singing +his old sea songs; watching the poultry from the window with a +child’s delight; scribbling on the slate little messages to +his wife, who lay bed-ridden in another room; glad to have Psalms +read aloud to him, if they were of a pious strain—checking, +with an ‘I don’t think we need read that, my +dear,’ any that were gloomy or bloody. +Fleeming’s wife coming to the house and asking one of the +nurses for news of Mrs. Jenkin, ‘Madam, I do not +know,’ said the nurse; ‘for I am really so carried +away by the Captain that I can think of nothing +else.’ One of the last messages scribbled to his wife +and sent her with a glass of the champagne that had been ordered +for himself, ran, in his most finished vein of childish madrigal: +‘The Captain bows to you, my love, across the +table.’ When the end was near and it was thought best +that Fleeming should no longer go home but sleep at Merchiston, +he broke his news to the Captain with some trepidation, knowing +that it carried sentence of death. ‘Charming, +charming—charming arrangement,’ was the +Captain’s only commentary. It was the proper thing +for a dying man, of Captain Jenkin’s school of manners, to +make some expression of his spiritual state; nor did he neglect +the observance. With his usual abruptness, +‘Fleeming,’ said he, ‘I suppose you and I feel +about all this as two Christian gentlemen should.’ A +last pleasure was secured for him. He had been waiting with +painful interest for news of Gordon and Khartoum; and by great +good fortune, a false report reached him that the city was +relieved, and the men of Sussex (his old neighbours) had been the +first to enter. He sat up in bed and gave three cheers for +the Sussex regiment. The subsequent correction, if it came +in time, was prudently withheld from the dying man. An hour +before midnight on the fifth of February, he passed away: aged +eighty-four.</p> +<p>Word of his death was kept from Mrs. Jenkin; and she survived +him no more than nine and forty hours. On the day before +her death, she received a letter from her old friend Miss Bell of +Manchester, knew the hand, kissed the envelope, and laid it on +her heart; so that she too died upon a pleasure. Half an +hour after midnight, on the eighth of February, she fell asleep: +it is supposed in her seventy-eighth year.</p> +<p>Thus, in the space of less than ten months, the four seniors +of this family were taken away; but taken with such features of +opportunity in time or pleasant courage in the sufferer, that +grief was tempered with a kind of admiration. The effect on +Fleeming was profound. His pious optimism increased and +became touched with something mystic and filial. ‘The +grave is not good, the approaches to it are terrible,’ he +had written in the beginning of his mother’s illness: he +thought so no more, when he had laid father and mother side by +side at Stowting. He had always loved life; in the brief +time that now remained to him, he seemed to be half in love with +death. ‘Grief is no duty,’ he wrote to Miss +Bell; ‘it was all too beautiful for grief,’ he said +to me; but the emotion, call it by what name we please, shook him +to his depths; his wife thought he would have broken his heart +when he must demolish the Captain’s trophy in the +dining-room, and he seemed thenceforth scarcely the same man.</p> +<p>These last years were indeed years of an excessive demand upon +his vitality; he was not only worn out with sorrow, he was worn +out by hope. The singular invention to which he gave the +name of telpherage, had of late consumed his time, overtaxed his +strength and overheated his imagination. The words in which +he first mentioned his discovery to me—‘I am simply +Alnaschar’—were not only descriptive of his state of +mind, they were in a sense prophetic; since whatever fortune may +await his idea in the future, it was not his to see it bring +forth fruit. Alnaschar he was indeed; beholding about him a +world all changed, a world filled with telpherage wires; and +seeing not only himself and family but all his friends +enriched. It was his pleasure, when the company was +floated, to endow those whom he liked with stock; one, at least, +never knew that he was a possible rich man until the grave had +closed over his stealthy benefactor. And however Fleeming +chafed among material and business difficulties, this rainbow +vision never faded; and he, like his father and his mother, may +be said to have died upon a pleasure. But the strain told, +and he knew that it was telling. ‘I am becoming a +fossil,’ he had written five years before, as a kind of +plea for a holiday visit to his beloved Italy. ‘Take +care! If I am Mr. Fossil, you will be Mrs. Fossil, and Jack +will be Jack Fossil, and all the boys will be little fossils, and +then we shall be a collection.’ There was no fear +more chimerical for Fleeming; years brought him no repose; he was +as packed with energy, as fiery in hope, as at the first; +weariness, to which he began to be no stranger, distressed, it +did not quiet him. He feared for himself, not without +ground, the fate which had overtaken his mother; others shared +the fear. In the changed life now made for his family, the +elders dead, the sons going from home upon their education, even +their tried domestic (Mrs. Alice Dunns) leaving the house after +twenty-two years of service, it was not unnatural that he should +return to dreams of Italy. He and his wife were to go (as +he told me) on ‘a real honeymoon tour.’ He had +not been alone with his wife ‘to speak of,’ he added, +since the birth of his children. But now he was to enjoy +the society of her to whom he wrote, in these last days, that she +was his ‘Heaven on earth.’ Now he was to +revisit Italy, and see all the pictures and the buildings and the +scenes that he admired so warmly, and lay aside for a time the +irritations of his strenuous activity. Nor was this +all. A trifling operation was to restore his former +lightness of foot; and it was a renovated youth that was to set +forth upon this reënacted honeymoon.</p> +<p>The operation was performed; it was of a trifling character, +it seemed to go well, no fear was entertained; and his wife was +reading aloud to him as he lay in bed, when she perceived him to +wander in his mind. It is doubtful if he ever recovered a +sure grasp upon the things of life; and he was still unconscious +when he passed away, June the twelfth, 1885, in the fifty-third +year of his age. He passed; but something in his gallant +vitality had impressed itself upon his friends, and still +impresses. Not from one or two only, but from many, I hear +the same tale of how the imagination refuses to accept our loss +and instinctively looks for his reappearing, and how memory +retains his voice and image like things of yesterday. +Others, the well-beloved too, die and are progressively +forgotten; two years have passed since Fleeming was laid to rest +beside his father, his mother, and his Uncle John; and the +thought and the look of our friend still haunt us.</p> +<h2><a name="page277"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +277</span>APPENDIX.</h2> +<h3>I. <span class="smcap">Note on the Contributions of +Fleeming Jenkin to Electrical and Engineering +Science</span>. <span class="smcap">By Sir William Thomson, +F.R.S., LL. D., etc., etc.</span></h3> +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the beginning of the year 1859 +my former colleague (the first British University Professor of +Engineering), Lewis Gordon, at that time deeply engaged in the +then new work of cable making and cable laying, came to Glasgow +to see apparatus for testing submarine cables and signalling +through them, which I had been preparing for practical use on the +first Atlantic cable, and which had actually done service upon +it, during the six weeks of its successful working between +Valencia and Newfoundland. As soon as he had seen something +of what I had in hand, he said to me, ‘I would like to show +this to a young man of remarkable ability, at present engaged in +our works at Birkenhead.’ Fleeming Jenkin was +accordingly telegraphed for, and appeared next morning in +Glasgow. He remained for a week, spending the whole day in +my class-room and laboratory, and thus pleasantly began our +lifelong acquaintance. I was much struck, not only with his +brightness <a name="page278"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +278</span>and ability, but with his resolution to understand +everything spoken of, to see if possible thoroughly through every +difficult question, and (no if about this!) to slur over +nothing. I soon found that thoroughness of honesty was as +strongly engrained in the scientific as in the moral side of his +character.</p> +<p>In the first week of our acquaintance, the electric telegraph +and, particularly, submarine cables, and the methods, machines, +and instruments for laying, testing, and using them, formed +naturally the chief subject of our conversations and discussions; +as it was in fact the practical object of Jenkin’s visit to +me in Glasgow; but not much of the week had passed before I found +him remarkably interested in science generally, and full of +intelligent eagerness on many particular questions of dynamics +and physics. When he returned from Glasgow to Birkenhead a +correspondence commenced between us, which was continued without +intermission up to the last days of his life. It commenced +with a well-sustained fire of letters on each side about the +physical qualities of submarine cables, and the practical results +attainable in the way of rapid signalling through them. +Jenkin used excellently the valuable opportunities for experiment +allowed him by Newall, and his partner Lewis Gordon, at their +Birkenhead factory. Thus he began definite scientific +investigation of the copper resistance of the conductor, and the +insulating resistance and specific inductive capacity of its +gutta-percha coating, in the factory, in various stages <a +name="page279"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 279</span>of +manufacture; and he was the very first to introduce +systematically into practice the grand system of absolute +measurement founded in Germany by Gauss and Weber. The +immense value of this step, if only in respect to the electric +telegraph, is amply appreciated by all who remember or who have +read something of the history of submarine telegraphy; but it can +scarcely be known generally how much it is due to Jenkin.</p> +<p>Looking to the article ‘Telegraph (Electric)’ in +the last volume of the old edition of the +‘Encyclopædia Britannica,’ which was published +about the year 1861, we find on record that Jenkin’s +measurements in absolute units of the specific resistance of pure +gutta-percha, and of the gutta-percha with Chatterton’s +compound constituting the insulation of the Red Sea cable of +1859, are given as the only results in the way of absolute +measurements of the electric resistance of an insulating material +which had then been made. These remarks are prefaced in the +‘Encyclopædia’ article by the following +statement: ‘No telegraphic testing ought in future to be +accepted in any department of telegraphic business which has not +this definite character; although it is only within the last year +that convenient instruments for working, in absolute measure, +have been introduced at all, and the whole system of absolute +measure is still almost unknown to practical +electricians.’</p> +<p>A particular result of great importance in respect to testing +is referred to as follows in the ‘Encyclopædia’ +<a name="page280"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 280</span>article: +‘The importance of having results thus stated in absolute +measure is illustrated by the circumstance, that the writer has +been able at once to compare them, in the manner stated in a +preceding paragraph, with his own previous deductions from the +testings of the Atlantic cable during its manufacture in 1857, +and with Weber’s measurements of the specific resistance of +copper.’ It has now become universally +adapted—first of all in England; twenty-two years later by +Germany, the country of its birth; and by France and Italy, and +all the other countries of Europe and America—practically +the whole scientific world—at the Electrical Congress in +Paris in the years 1882 and 1884.</p> +<p>An important paper of thirty quarto pages published in the +‘Transactions of the Royal Society’ for June 19, +1862, under the title ‘Experimental Researches on the +Transmission of Electric Signals through submarine cables, Part +I. Laws of Transmission through various lengths of one +cable, by Fleeming Jenkin, Esq., communicated by C. Wheatstone, +Esq., F.R.S.,’ contains an account of a large part of +Jenkin’s experimental work in the Birkenhead factory during +the years 1859 and 1860. This paper is called Part I. +Part II. alas never appeared, but something that it would have +included we can see from the following ominous statement which I +find near the end of Part I.: ‘From this value, the +electrostatical capacity per unit of length and the specific +inductive capacity of the dielectric, could be determined. +These points will, however, be more fully <a +name="page281"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 281</span>treated of +in the second part of this paper.’ Jenkin had in fact +made a determination at Birkenhead of the specific inductive +capacity of gutta-percha, or of the gutta-percha and +Chatterton’s compound constituting the insulation of the +cable, on which he experimented. This was the very first +true measurement of the specific inductive capacity of a +dielectric which had been made after the discovery by Faraday of +the existence of the property, and his primitive measurement of +it for the three substances, glass, shellac, and sulphur; and at +the time when Jenkin made his measurements the existence of +specific inductive capacity was either unknown, or ignored, or +denied, by almost all the scientific authorities of the day.</p> +<p>The original determination of the microfarad, brought out +under the auspices of the British Association Committee on +Electrical Standards, is due to experimental work by Jenkin, +described in a paper, ‘Experiments on Capacity,’ +constituting No. IV. of the appendix to the Report presented by +the Committee to the Dundee Meeting of 1867. No other +determination, so far as I know, of this important element of +electric measurement has hitherto been made; and it is no small +thing to be proud of in respect to Jenkin’s fame as a +scientific and practical electrician that the microfarad which we +now all use is his.</p> +<p>The British Association unit of electrical resistance, on +which was founded the first practical approximation to absolute +measurement on the system of Gauss and <a +name="page282"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 282</span>Weber, was +largely due to Jenkin’s zeal as one of the originators, and +persevering energy as a working member, of the first Electrical +Standards Committee. The experimental work of first making +practical standards, founded on the absolute system, which led to +the unit now known as the British Association ohm, was chiefly +performed by Clerk Maxwell and Jenkin. The realisation of +the great practical benefit which has resulted from the +experimental and scientific work of the Committee is certainly in +a large measure due to Jenkin’s zeal and perseverance as +secretary, and as editor of the volume of Collected Reports of +the work of the Committee, which extended over eight years, from +1861 till 1869. The volume of Reports included +Jenkin’s Cantor Lectures of January, 1866, ‘On +Submarine Telegraphy,’ through which the practical +applications of the scientific principles for which he had worked +so devotedly for eight years became part of general knowledge in +the engineering profession.</p> +<p>Jenkin’s scientific activity continued without abatement +to the end. For the last two years of his life he was much +occupied with a new mode of electric locomotion, a very +remarkable invention of his own, to which he gave the name of +‘Telpherage.’ He persevered with endless +ingenuity in carrying out the numerous and difficult mechanical +arrangements essential to the project, up to the very last days +of his work in life. He had completed almost every detail +of the realisation of the system which was recently opened <a +name="page283"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 283</span>for +practical working at Glynde, in Sussex, four months after his +death.</p> +<p>His book on ‘Magnetism and Electricity,’ published +as one of Longman’s elementary series in 1873, marked a new +departure in the exposition of electricity, as the first +text-book containing a systematic application of the quantitative +methods inaugurated by the British Association Committee on +Electrical Standards. In 1883 the seventh edition was +published, after there had already appeared two foreign editions, +one in Italian and the other in German.</p> +<p>His papers on purely engineering subjects, though not +numerous, are interesting and valuable. Amongst these may +be mentioned the article ‘Bridges,’ written by him +for the ninth edition of the ‘Encyclopædia +Britannica,’ and afterwards republished as a separate +treatise in 1876; and a paper ‘On the Practical Application +of Reciprocal Figures to the Calculation of Strains in +Framework,’ read before the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and +published in the ‘Transactions’ of that Society in +1869. But perhaps the most important of all is his paper +‘On the Application of Graphic Methods to the Determination +of the Efficiency of Machinery,’ read before the Royal +Society of Edinburgh, and published in the +‘Transactions,’ vol. xxviii. (1876–78), for +which he was awarded the Keith Gold Medal. This paper was a +continuation of the subject treated in ‘Reulaux’s +Mechanism,’ and, recognising the value of that work, +supplied the elements required to <a name="page284"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 284</span>constitute from Reulaux’s +kinematic system a full machine receiving energy and doing +work.</p> +<h3>II. <span class="smcap">Note on the work of Fleeming +Jenkin in connection with Sanitary Reform</span>. <span +class="smcap">By Lt. Col. Alexander Fergusson</span>.</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was, I believe, during the +autumn of 1877 that there came to Fleeming Jenkin the first +inkling of an idea, not the least in importance of the many that +emanated from that fertile brain, which, with singular rapidity, +took root, and under his careful fostering expanded into a scheme +the fruits of which have been of the utmost value to his +fellow-citizens and others.</p> +<p>The phrase which afterwards suggested itself, and came into +use, ‘Healthy houses,’ expresses very happily the +drift of this scheme, and the ultimate object that Jenkin had in +view.</p> +<p>In the summer of that year there had been much talk, and some +newspaper correspondence, on the subject of the unsatisfactory +condition of many of the best houses in Edinburgh as regards +their sanitary state. One gentleman, for example, drew an +appalling picture of a large and expensive house he had bought in +the West-end of Edinburgh, fresh from the builder’s +hands. To ascertain precisely what was wrong, and the steps +to be taken to remedy the evils, the effects <a +name="page285"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 285</span>of which +were but too apparent, obviously demanded the expenditure of much +time and careful study on the part of the intelligent proprietor +himself and the professional experts he had to call in, and, it +is needless to add, much money. There came also, from the +poorer parts of the town, the cry that in many cases the houses +of our working people were built anyhow that the dictates of a +narrow economy suggested to the speculative and irresponsible +builder. The horrors of what was called the ‘Sandwich +system,’ amongst other evils, were brought to light. +It is sufficient to say, generally, that this particular practice +of the builder consists in placing in a block of workmen’s +houses, to save space and money, the water cisterns of one flat, +directly under the sanitary appliances of the other, and so on to +the top of a house of several storeys. It is easy to +conceive the abominations that must ensue when the leakage of the +upper floors begins to penetrate to the drinking water +below. The picture was a hideous one, apart from the +well-known fact that a whole class of diseases is habitually +spread by contaminated water.</p> +<p>In October, 1876, a brisk and interesting discussion had been +carried on in the columns of the <i>Times</i> at intervals during +the greater part of that month, in which the same subject, that +of the health and sewage of towns, had been dealt with by several +writers well informed in such matters. Amongst others, +Professor Jenkin himself took part, as did Professor G. F. +Armstrong, <a name="page286"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +286</span>who now occupies the chair of Civil Engineering in +Edinburgh. Many of the truths then advanced had been +recently discussed at a meeting of the British Association.</p> +<p>It was while such topics were attracting attention that +Fleeming Jenkin’s family were shocked by the sad +intelligence of the loss that friends of theirs had sustained in +the deaths of several of their children from causes that could be +traced up to the unsanitary condition of their house. +Sympathy took the practical form of an intense desire that +something might be done to mitigate the chance of such +calamities; and, I am permitted to say, the result of a home-talk +on this subject was an earnest appeal to the head of the house to +turn his scientific knowledge to account in some way that should +make people’s homes more healthy, and their +children’s lives more safe. In answer to the call +Jenkin turned his thoughts in this direction. And the +scheme which I shall endeavour briefly to sketch out was the +result.</p> +<p>The obvious remedy for a faulty house is to call in a skilful +expert, architect or engineer, who will doubtless point out by +means of reports and plans what is wrong, and suggest a remedy; +but, as remarked by Professor Jenkin, ‘it has not been the +practice for leading engineers to advise individuals about their +house arrangements, except where large outlay is in +contemplation.’ A point of very considerable +importance in such a case as that now supposed.</p> +<p><a name="page287"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 287</span>The +problem was to ensure to the great body of the citizens sound +professional advice concerning their houses, such as had hitherto +been only obtainable at great cost—but ‘with due +regard to economical considerations.’</p> +<p>The advantages of co-operation are patent to all. +Everyone can understand how, if a sufficient number of persons +combine, there are few luxuries or advantages that are not within +their reach, for a moderate payment. The advice of a +first-rate engineer regarding a dwelling-house was a palpable +advantage; but within the reach of comparatively few. One +has heard of a winter in Madeira being prescribed as the cure for +a poor Infirmary sufferer.</p> +<p>Like most good plans Jenkin’s scheme was simple in the +extreme, and consisted in <i>combination</i> and a small +subscription.</p> +<p>‘Just,’ he says, ‘as the leading physician +of the day may give his services to great numbers of poor +patients when these are gathered in a hospital, although he could +not practically visit them in their own houses, so the simple +fact of a number of clients gathered into a group will enable the +leading engineer to give them the benefit of his +advice.’</p> +<p>But it was his opinion that only ‘continual supervision +could secure the householder from danger due to defects in +sanitary appliances.’ He had in his eye a case +precisely similar. The following passage in one of his +first lectures, afterwards repeated frequently, conveys <a +name="page288"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 288</span>the essence +of Professor Jenkin’s theory, as well as a graceful +acknowledgment of the source from which this happy idea was +derived:—</p> +<p>‘An analogous case occurred to him,’ he said, +‘in the “Steam Users’ Association,” in +Lancashire. So many boilers burst in that district for want +of inspection that an association was formed for having the +boilers under a continual course of inspection. Let a +perfect boiler be bought from a first-rate maker, the owner has +then an apparatus as perfect as it is now sought to make the +sanitary appliances in his house. But in the course of time +the boiler must decay. The prudent proprietor, therefore, +joins the Steam-boiler Association, which, from time to time, +examines his boiler, and by the tests they apply are able to give +an absolute guarantee against accident. This idea of an +inspection by an association was due,’ the lecturer +continued, ‘to Sir William Fairbairn, under whom he had the +honour of serving his apprenticeship.’ <a +name="citation288"></a><a href="#footnote288" +class="citation">[288]</a> The steam users were thus +absolutely protected from danger; and the same idea it was sought +to apply to the sanitary system of a house.</p> +<p>To bring together a sufficient number of persons, to form such +a ‘group’ as had been contemplated, was the first +step to be taken. No time was lost in taking it. The +idea hitherto roughly blocked out was now given a more definite +form. The original sketch, as <a name="page289"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 289</span>dictated by Jenkin himself, is +before me, and I cannot do better than transcribe it, seeing it +is short and simple. Several important alterations were +afterwards made by himself in consultation with one or two of his +Provisional Council; and as experience suggested:—</p> +<blockquote><p>‘The objects of this Association are +twofold.</p> +<p>‘1. By taking advantage of the principle of +co-operation, to provide its members at moderate cost with such +advice and supervision as shall ensure the proper sanitary +condition of their own dwellings.</p> +<p>‘2. By making use of specially qualified officers +to support the inhabitants and local authorities in enforcing +obedience to the provisions of those laws and by-laws which +affect the sanitary condition of the community.</p> +<p>‘It is proposed that an Association with these objects +be formed; and that all residents within the municipal boundaries +of Edinburgh be eligible as members. That each member of +the Association shall subscribe <i>one guinea</i> annually. +That in return for the annual subscription each member shall be +entitled to the following advantages:—</p> +<p>‘1. A report by the Engineer of the Association on +the sanitary condition of his dwelling, with specific +recommendations as to the improvement of drainage, ventilation, +&c., should this be found necessary.</p> +<p>‘2. The supervision of any alterations in the +sanitary fittings of his dwelling which may be carried out by the +advice, or with the approval, of the officers of the +Association.</p> +<p><a name="page290"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +290</span>‘3. An annual inspection of his premises by +the Engineer of the Association, with a report as to their +sanitary condition.</p> +<p>‘4. The right, in consideration of a payment of +five shillings, of calling on the Engineer, and legal adviser <a +name="citation290"></a><a href="#footnote290" +class="citation">[290]</a> of the Association to inspect and +report on the existence of any infraction or supposed infraction +of any law affecting the sanitary condition of the community.</p> +<p>‘It is proposed that the Association should be managed +by an unpaid Council, to be selected by ballot from among its +members.</p> +<p>‘That the following salaried officers be engaged by the +Association:</p> +<p>‘1. One or more acting engineers, who should give +their services exclusively to the Association.</p> +<p>‘2. A consulting engineer, who should exercise a +general supervision, and advise both on the general principles to +be followed, and on difficult cases.</p> +<p>‘3. A legal agent, to be engaged on such terms as +the Council shall hereafter think fit.</p> +<p>‘4. A permanent secretary.</p> +<p>‘It is also proposed that the officers of the +Association should, with the sanction of the Council, have power +to take legal proceedings against persons who shall, in their +opinion, be guilty of any infraction of sanitary regulations in +force throughout the district; and generally it is intended that +the Association shall <a name="page291"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 291</span>further and promote all undertakings +which, in their opinion, are calculated to improve the sanitary +condition of Edinburgh and its immediate neighbourhood.</p> +<p>‘In one aspect this Association will be analogous to the +Steam Boiler Users’ Association, who co-operate in the +employment of skilled inspectors. In a second aspect it +will be analogous to the Association for the Prevention of +Cruelty to Animals, which assists the community in enforcing +obedience to existing laws.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Towards the end of November, 1877, this paper was handed about +among those who were thought most likely, from their position and +public spirit, to forward such a scheme, so clearly for the good +of the community. Nay more, a systematic +‘canvass’ was set on foot; personal application the +most direct was made use of. The thing was new, and its +advantages not perfectly obvious to all at a glance. +Everyone who knows with what enthusiastic earnestness Jenkin +would take hold of, and insist upon, what he felt to be wholesome +and right will understand how he persisted, how he patiently +explained, and swept away objections that were raised. One +could not choose but listen, and understand, and agree.</p> +<p>On the evening of 2nd January, 1878, or, to be more correct, +the morning of the 3rd, two old school-fellows of his at the +Edinburgh Academy walked home with him from an annual dinner of +their ‘Class.’ All the way in glowing language +he expounded his views of house inspection, and the protection of +health, asking <a name="page292"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +292</span>for sympathy. It was most readily given, and they +parted from him with pleasant words of banter regarding this +vision of his of grafting ‘cleanliness’ upon another +quality said to be a growth, in some sort, of this northern land +of ours.</p> +<p>But they reckoned hardly sufficiently on the fact that when +Jenkin took a thing of this kind in hand it must <i>be</i>; if it +lay within the scope of a clear head and boundless energy.</p> +<p>Having secured a nucleus of well-wishers, the next step was to +enlist the sympathies of the general public. It was sought +to effect this by a series of public lectures. The first of +these (one of two) was given on 22nd January under the auspices +of the Edinburgh Philosophical Institution. It was apparent +to the shrewd lecturer that in bringing before the people a +scheme like this, where there was much that was novel, it was +necessary first of all that his audience should be aware of the +evils to which they were exposed in their own houses, before +unfolding a plan for a remedy. The correspondence already +referred to as having been carried on in the summer of the +previous year had shown how crude were the ideas of many persons +well informed, or considered to be so, on this subject. For +example, there are few now-a-days who are not aware that a drain, +to be safe, must have at intervals along its course openings to +the upper air, or that it must be ‘ventilated,’ as +the phrase goes. But at the time spoken of there were some +who went so far as to <a name="page293"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 293</span>question this principle; even to +argue against it; calling forth this forcible +reply—’Here is a pretty farce. You pour out a +poison and send it off on its way to the sea, and forget that on +its way there its very essence will take wings and fly back into +your house up the very pipes it but recently ran +down.’ A properly ‘trapped’ and +ventilated drain was the cure for this.</p> +<p>And the lecturer proceeded to show that in Edinburgh, where +for the most part house construction is good and solid, but, as +in other towns, the bulk of the houses were built when the +arrangements for internal sewerage and water supply were very +little understood, many serious errors were made. +‘But,’ the lecturer went on to say, ‘Sanitary +Science was now established on a fairly sound basis, and the germ +theory, or theory of septic ferments, had explained much which +used to be obscure. This theory explained how it was that +families might in certain cases live with fair health for many +years in the midst of great filth, while the dwellers in large +and apparently clean mansions were struck down by fever and +diphtheria. The filth which was found compatible with +health was always isolated filth, and until the germs of some +specific disease were introduced, this dirt was merely injurious, +not poisonous. The mansions which were apparently clean and +yet fever-visited were found to be those in which arrangements +had been made for the removal of offensive matter, which +arrangements served also to distribute poison germs from one +house to another, from one <a name="page294"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 294</span>room to another. These +mansions had long suckers extended from one to another through +the common sewer. Through these suckers, commonly called +“house drains,” they imbibed every taint which any +one house in the system could supply. In fact, arrangements +were too often made which simply “laid on” poison to +bed-rooms just as gas or water was laid on. He had known an +intelligent person declare that no harm could come up a certain +pipe which ended in a bed-room, because nothing offensive went +down. That person had never realised the fact that his pipe +joined another pipe, which again joined a sewer, which again +whenever there was an epidemic in the neighbourhood, received +innumerable poison germs; and that, although nothing more serious +than scented soap and water went down, the germs of typhoid fever +might any day come up.’</p> +<p>Professor Jenkin then proceeded to show how a house might be +absolutely cut off from all contamination from these sources of +evil. Then by means of large diagrams he showed the several +systems of pipes within a house. One system coloured +<i>red</i> showed the pipes that received foul matter. A +system marked in <i>blue</i> showed pipes used to ventilate this +red system. The essential conditions of safety in the +internal fittings of a house—it was inculcated—were +that no air to be breathed, no water to be drunk, should ever be +contaminated by connection with <i>red</i> or <i>blue</i> +systems. Then in <i>yellow</i> were shown the pipes which +received <a name="page295"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +295</span>dirty water, which was not necessarily foul. +Lastly a <i>white</i> system, which under no circumstances must +ever touch the ‘red,’ ‘blue,’ or +‘yellow’ systems. Such a diagram recalled the +complicated anatomical drawings which illustrate the system of +arteries and veins in the human frame. Little wonder, then, +that one gentleman remarked, in perplexity, that he had not room +in his house for such a mass of pipes; but they were already +there, with other pipes besides, all carefully hidden away, as in +the human tenement, with the inevitable result—as the +preacher of cleanliness and health declared—‘out of +sight, out of mind.’</p> +<p>In plain and forcible language were demonstrated the ills this +product of modern life is heir to; and the drastic measures that +most of them demand to secure the reputation of a healthy +house. Lastly the formation of an Association to carry out +the idea (already sketched) cheaply, was briefly introduced.</p> +<p>Next morning, January 23rd, was the moment chosen to lay the +scheme formally before the public. In all the Edinburgh +newspapers, along with lengthy reports of the lecture, appeared, +in form of an advertisement, a statement <a +name="citation295"></a><a href="#footnote295" +class="citation">[295]</a> of the scheme and its objects, +supported <a name="page296"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +296</span>by an imposing array of ‘Provisional +Council.’ In due course several of the Scots +newspapers and others, such as the <i>Building News</i>, gave +leading articles, all of them directing attention to this new +thing, as ‘an interesting experiment about to be tried in +Edinburgh,’ ‘what promises to be a very useful +sanitary movement, now being organised, and an example set that +may be worthy of imitation elsewhere,’ and so on.</p> +<p>Several of the writers waxed eloquent on the singular +ingenuity of the scheme; the cheap professional advice to its +adherents, &c.; and the rare advantages to be gained by means +of co-operation and the traditional ‘one pound +one.’</p> +<p>The Provisional Council was absolutely representative of the +community, and included names more than sufficient to inspire +confidence. It included the Lord-Lieutenant of the county, +Lord Rosebery; the Lord Justice Clerk, Lord Moncrieff; the Lord +Advocate; Sir Robert Christison; several of the Judges of the +Court of Session; the Presidents of the Colleges of Physicians, +and of Surgeons; many of the Professors of the University; the +Bishop of Edinburgh, and the <a name="page297"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 297</span>Dean; several of the best known of +the Clergy of the Church of Scotland, Established, Free, and of +other branches; one or two members of Parliament; more than one +lady (who should have been perhaps mentioned earlier on this +list) well known for large views and public spirit; several +well-known country gentlemen; one or two distinguished civil +engineers and architects; and many gentlemen of repute for +intelligence and business qualities.</p> +<p>Very soon after the second of the promised lectures, the +members of the new Society began to be numbered by +hundreds. By the 28th of February, 500 subscribers having +been enrolled, they were in a position to hold their first +regular meeting under the presidency of Sir Robert Christison, +when a permanent Council composed of many of those who had from +the first shown an interest in the movement—for example, +Professor (now Sir Douglas) Maclagan and Lord Dean of Guild (now +Sir James) Gowans, Professor Jenkin himself undertaking the +duties of Consulting Engineer—were appointed. And +Jenkin was singularly fortunate in securing as Secretary the late +Captain Charles Douglas, a worker as earnest as himself. It +was the theory of the originator that the Council, composed of +leading men not necessarily possessed of engineering knowledge, +should ‘give a guarantee to the members that the officials +employed should have been carefully selected, and themselves work +under supervision. Every householder in this town,’ +he <a name="page298"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 298</span>adds, +‘knows the names of the gentlemen composing our +Council.’</p> +<p>The new Association was a success alike in town and +country. Without going far into statistics it will be +evident what scope there was, and is, for such operations when it +is stated that last year (1885) 60 per cent. of the houses +inspected in London and its neighbourhood were found to have foul +air escaping direct into them, and 81 per cent. had their +sanitary appliances in an unsatisfactory state. Here in +Edinburgh things were little, if any, better; as for the country +houses, the descriptions of some were simply appalling. As +the new Association continued its operations it became the +<i>rôle</i> of the Consulting Engineer to note such +objections, hypothetical or real, as were raised against the +working of his scheme. Some of these were ingenious enough: +but all were replied to in order, and satisfactorily +resolved. It was shown, for example, that ‘you might +have a dinner party in your house on the day of your +inspection’; that the Association worked in the utmost +harmony with the city authorities, and with the tradesmen usually +employed in such business; and that the officials were as +‘confidential’ as regards the infirmities of a house +as any physician consulted by a patient. The strength of +the engineering staff has been varied from time to time as +occasion required; at the moment of writing employment is found +in Edinburgh and country districts in various parts of Scotland +for five engineers temporarily or permanently engaged.</p> +<p><a name="page299"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 299</span>The +position Jenkin claimed for the Engineers was a high one, but not +too high: thus he well defined it:—</p> +<blockquote><p>‘In respect of Domestic Sanitation the +business of the Engineer and that of the medical man overlap; for +while it is the duty of the engineer to learn from the doctor +what conditions are necessary to secure health, the engineer may, +nevertheless, claim in his turn the privilege of assisting in the +warfare against disease by using his professional skill to +determine what mechanical and constructive arrangements are best +adapted to secure these conditions.’ <a +name="citation299"></a><a href="#footnote299" +class="citation">[299]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Flattery in the form of imitation followed in due +course. A branch was established at St. Andrews, and one of +the earliest of similar institutions was founded at Newport in +the United States. Another sprang up at +Wolverhampton. In 1881 two such societies were announced as +having been set on foot in London. And the <i>Times</i> of +April 14th, in a leading article of some length, drew attention +to the special features of the plan which it was stated had +followed close upon a paper read by Professor Fleeming Jenkin +before the Society of Arts in the preceding month of +January. The adherents included such names as those of Sir +William Gull, Professor Huxley, Professor Burdon Sanderson, and +Sir Joseph Fayrer. The <i>Saturday Review</i>, in January, +had already in a characteristic article enforced the principles +of the scheme, and shown how, for a small annual payment, +‘the helpless and hopeless <a name="page300"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 300</span>condition of the householder at the +mercy of the plumber’ might be for ever changed.</p> +<p>The London Association, established on the lines of the parent +society, has been followed by many others year by year; amongst +these are Bradford, Cheltenham, Glasgow, and Liverpool in 1882; +Bedford, Brighton, and Newcastle in 1883; Bath, Cambridge, +Cardiff, Dublin, and Dundee in 1884; and Swansea in 1885; and +while we write the first steps are being taken, with help from +Edinburgh, to establish an association at Montreal; sixteen +Associations.</p> +<p>Almost, it may be said, a bibliography has been achieved for +Fleeming Jenkin’s movement.</p> +<p>In 1878 was published <i>Healthy Houses</i> (Edin., David +Douglas), being the substance of the two lectures already +mentioned as having been delivered in Edinburgh with the +intention of laying open the idea of the scheme then in +contemplation, with a third addressed to the Medico-Chirurgical +Society. This book has been long out of print, and such has +been the demand for it that the American edition <a +name="citation300"></a><a href="#footnote300" +class="citation">[300]</a> is understood to be also out of print, +and unobtainable.</p> +<p>In 1880 was printed (London, Spottiswoode & Co.) a +pamphlet entitled <i>What is the Best Mode of Amending the +Present Laws with Reference to Existing Buildings</i>, <a +name="page301"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 301</span><i>and also +of Improving their Sanitary Condition with due Regard to +Economical Considerations</i>?—the substance of a paper +read by Professor Jenkin at the Congress of the Social Science +Association at Edinburgh in October of that year.</p> +<p>The first item of <i>Health Lectures for the People</i> +(Edin., 1881) consists of a discourse on the ‘Care of the +Body’ delivered by Professor Jenkin in the Watt Institution +at Edinburgh, in which the theories of house sanitation are dwelt +on.</p> +<p><i>House Inspection</i>, reprinted from the <i>Sanitary +Record</i>, was issued in pamphlet form in 1882. And +another small tract, <i>Houses of the Poor</i>; <i>their Sanitary +Arrangement</i>, in 1885.</p> +<p>In this connection it may be said that while the idea +formulated by Jenkin has been carried out with a measure of +success that could hardly have been foreseen, in one point only, +it may be noted, has expectation been somewhat disappointed as +regards the good that these Associations should have +effected—and the fact was constantly deplored by the +founder—namely, the comparative failure as a means of +improving the condition of the dwellings of the poorer +classes. It was ‘hoped that charity and public spirit +would have used the Association to obtain reports on poor +tenements, and to remedy the most glaring evils.’ <a +name="citation301"></a><a href="#footnote301" +class="citation">[301]</a></p> +<p><a name="page302"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 302</span>The +good that these associations have effected is not to be estimated +by the numbers of their membership. They have educated the +public on certain points. The fact that they exist has +become generally known, and, by consequence, persons of all +classes are induced to satisfy themselves of the reasons for the +existence of such institutions, and thus they learn of the evils +that have called them into being.</p> +<p>Builders, burgh engineers, and private individuals in any way +connected with the construction of dwellings in town or country +have been put upon their mettle, and constrained to keep +themselves abreast with the wholesome truths which the +engineering staff of all these Sanitary Associations are the +means of disseminating.</p> +<p>In this way, doubtless, some good may indirectly have been +done to poorer tenements, though not exactly in the manner +contemplated by the founder.</p> +<p>Now, if it be true that Providence helps those who help +themselves, surely a debt of gratitude is due to him who has +placed (as has been attempted to be shown in this brief +narrative) the means of self-help and the attainment of a +palpable benefit within the reach of all through the working of a +simple plan, whose motto well may be, ‘Healthy +Houses’; and device a strangled snake.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">A. F.</p> +<h2>FOOTNOTES</h2> +<p><a name="footnote113"></a><a href="#citation113" +class="footnote">[113]</a> <i>Reminiscences of My Later +Life</i>, by Mary Howitt, <i>Good Words</i>, May 1886.</p> +<p><a name="footnote288"></a><a href="#citation288" +class="footnote">[288]</a> See paper read at the Congress +of the Social Science Association, Edinburgh, October 8, +1880.</p> +<p><a name="footnote290"></a><a href="#citation290" +class="footnote">[290]</a> It was ultimately agreed not to +appoint an officer of this kind till occasion should arise for +his services; none has been appointed.</p> +<p><a name="footnote295"></a><a href="#citation295" +class="footnote">[295]</a> Briefly stated, the points +submitted in this prospectus were these:</p> +<p>1. That the proposed Association was a Society for the +benefit of its members and the community that cannot be used for +any purposes of profit.</p> +<p>2. The privileges of members include the annual +inspection of their premises, as well as a preliminary report on +their condition with an estimate of the cost of any alterations +recommended.</p> +<p>3. The skilled inspection from time to time of drains +and all sanitary arrangements.</p> +<p>4. No obligation on the part of members to carry out any +of the suggestions made by the engineers of the Association, who +merely give skilled advice when such is desired.</p> +<p>5. The officers of the Association to have no interest +in any outlay recommended.</p> +<p>6. The Association might be of great service to the +poorer members of the community.</p> +<p><a name="footnote299"></a><a href="#citation299" +class="footnote">[299]</a> <i>Healthy Houses</i>, by +Professor Fleeming Jenkin, p. 54.</p> +<p><a name="footnote300"></a><a href="#citation300" +class="footnote">[300]</a> It is perhaps worth mentioning +as a curiosity of literature that the American publishers who +produced this book in the States, without consulting the author, +afterwards sent him a handsome cheque, of course unsolicited by +him.</p> +<p><a name="footnote301"></a><a href="#citation301" +class="footnote">[301]</a> It is true, handsome tenements +for working people have been built, such as the picturesque group +of houses erected with this object by a member of the Council of +the Edinburgh Sanitary Association, at Bell’s Mills, so +well seen from the Dean Bridge, where every appliance that +science can suggest has been made use of. But for the +ordinary houses of the poor the advice of the Association’s +engineers has been but rarely taken advantage of.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIR OF FLEEMING JENKIN***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 698-h.htm or 698-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/9/698 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin by Robert Louis Stevenson +Scanned and proofed by David Price +ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin + + + + +PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. + + + +ON the death of Fleeming Jenkin, his family and friends determined +to publish a selection of his various papers; by way of +introduction, the following pages were drawn up; and the whole, +forming two considerable volumes, has been issued in England. In +the States, it has not been thought advisable to reproduce the +whole; and the memoir appearing alone, shorn of that other matter +which was at once its occasion and its justification, so large an +account of a man so little known may seem to a stranger out of all +proportion. But Jenkin was a man much more remarkable than the +mere bulk or merit of his work approves him. It was in the world, +in the commerce of friendship, by his brave attitude towards life, +by his high moral value and unwearied intellectual effort, that he +struck the minds of his contemporaries. His was an individual +figure, such as authors delight to draw, and all men to read of, in +the pages of a novel. His was a face worth painting for its own +sake. If the sitter shall not seem to have justified the portrait, +if Jenkin, after his death, shall not continue to make new friends, +the fault will be altogether mine. + +R. L S. + +SARANAC, OCT., 1887. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +The Jenkins of Stowting - Fleeming's grandfather - Mrs. Buckner's +fortune - Fleeming's father; goes to sea; at St. Helena; meets King +Tom; service in the West Indies; end of his career - The Campbell- +Jacksons - Fleeming's mother - Fleeming's uncle John. + + +IN the reign of Henry VIII., a family of the name of Jenkin, +claiming to come from York, and bearing the arms of Jenkin ap +Philip of St. Melans, are found reputably settled in the county of +Kent. Persons of strong genealogical pinion pass from William +Jenkin, Mayor of Folkestone in 1555, to his contemporary 'John +Jenkin, of the Citie of York, Receiver General of the County,' and +thence, by way of Jenkin ap Philip, to the proper summit of any +Cambrian pedigree - a prince; 'Guaith Voeth, Lord of Cardigan,' the +name and style of him. It may suffice, however, for the present, +that these Kentish Jenkins must have undoubtedly derived from +Wales, and being a stock of some efficiency, they struck root and +grew to wealth and consequence in their new home. + +Of their consequence we have proof enough in the fact that not only +was William Jenkin (as already mentioned) Mayor of Folkestone in +1555, but no less than twenty-three times in the succeeding century +and a half, a Jenkin (William, Thomas, Henry, or Robert) sat in the +same place of humble honour. Of their wealth we know that in the +reign of Charles I., Thomas Jenkin of Eythorne was more than once +in the market buying land, and notably, in 1633, acquired the manor +of Stowting Court. This was an estate of some 320 acres, six miles +from Hythe, in the Bailiwick and Hundred of Stowting, and the Lathe +of Shipway, held of the Crown IN CAPITE by the service of six men +and a constable to defend the passage of the sea at Sandgate. It +had a chequered history before it fell into the hands of Thomas of +Eythorne, having been sold and given from one to another - to the +Archbishop, to Heringods, to the Burghershes, to Pavelys, Trivets, +Cliffords, Wenlocks, Beauchamps, Nevilles, Kempes, and Clarkes: a +piece of Kentish ground condemned to see new faces and to be no +man's home. But from 1633 onward it became the anchor of the +Jenkin family in Kent; and though passed on from brother to +brother, held in shares between uncle and nephew, burthened by +debts and jointures, and at least once sold and bought in again, it +remains to this day in the hands of the direct line. It is not my +design, nor have I the necessary knowledge, to give a history of +this obscure family. But this is an age when genealogy has taken a +new lease of life, and become for the first time a human science; +so that we no longer study it in quest of the Guaith Voeths, but to +trace out some of the secrets of descent and destiny; and as we +study, we think less of Sir Bernard Burke and more of Mr. Galton. +Not only do our character and talents lie upon the anvil and +receive their temper during generations; but the very plot of our +life's story unfolds itself on a scale of centuries, and the +biography of the man is only an episode in the epic of the family. +From this point of view I ask the reader's leave to begin this +notice of a remarkable man who was my friend, with the accession of +his great-grandfather, John Jenkin. + +This John Jenkin, a grandson of Damaris Kingsley, of the family of +'Westward Ho!' was born in 1727, and married Elizabeth, daughter of +Thomas Frewen, of Church House, Northiam. The Jenkins had now been +long enough intermarrying with their Kentish neighbours to be +Kentish folk themselves in all but name; and with the Frewens in +particular their connection is singularly involved. John and his +wife were each descended in the third degree from another Thomas +Frewen, Vicar of Northiam, and brother to Accepted Frewen, +Archbishop of York. John's mother had married a Frewen for a +second husband. And the last complication was to be added by the +Bishop of Chichester's brother, Charles Buckner, Vice-Admiral of +the White, who was twice married, first to a paternal cousin of +Squire John, and second to Anne, only sister of the Squire's wife, +and already the widow of another Frewen. The reader must bear Mrs. +Buckner in mind; it was by means of that lady that Fleeming Jenkin +began life as a poor man. Meanwhile, the relationship of any +Frewen to any Jenkin at the end of these evolutions presents a +problem almost insoluble; and we need not wonder if Mrs. John, thus +exercised in her immediate circle, was in her old age 'a great +genealogist of all Sussex families, and much consulted.' The names +Frewen and Jenkin may almost seem to have been interchangeable at +will; and yet Fate proceeds with such particularity that it was +perhaps on the point of name that the family was ruined. + +The John Jenkins had a family of one daughter and five extravagant +and unpractical sons. The eldest, Stephen, entered the Church and +held the living of Salehurst, where he offered, we may hope, an +extreme example of the clergy of the age. He was a handsome figure +of a man; jovial and jocular; fond of his garden, which produced +under his care the finest fruits of the neighbourhood; and like all +the family, very choice in horses. He drove tandem; like Jehu, +furiously. His saddle horse, Captain (for the names of horses are +piously preserved in the family chronicle which I follow), was +trained to break into a gallop as soon as the vicar's foot was +thrown across its back; nor would the rein be drawn in the nine +miles between Northiam and the Vicarage door. Debt was the man's +proper element; he used to skulk from arrest in the chancel of his +church; and the speed of Captain may have come sometimes handy. At +an early age this unconventional parson married his cook, and by +her he had two daughters and one son. One of the daughters died +unmarried; the other imitated her father, and married +'imprudently.' The son, still more gallantly continuing the +tradition, entered the army, loaded himself with debt, was forced +to sell out, took refuge in the Marines, and was lost on the Dogger +Bank in the war-ship MINOTAUR. If he did not marry below him, like +his father, his sister, and a certain great-uncle William, it was +perhaps because he never married at all. + +The second brother, Thomas, who was employed in the General Post- +Office, followed in all material points the example of Stephen, +married 'not very creditably,' and spent all the money he could lay +his hands on. He died without issue; as did the fourth brother, +John, who was of weak intellect and feeble health, and the fifth +brother, William, whose brief career as one of Mrs. Buckner's +satellites will fall to be considered later on. So soon, then, as +the MINOTAUR had struck upon the Dogger Bank, Stowting and the line +of the Jenkin family fell on the shoulders of the third brother, +Charles. + +Facility and self-indulgence are the family marks; facility (to +judge by these imprudent marriages) being at once their quality and +their defect; but in the case of Charles, a man of exceptional +beauty and sweetness both of face and disposition, the family fault +had quite grown to be a virtue, and we find him in consequence the +drudge and milk-cow of his relatives. Born in 1766, Charles served +at sea in his youth, and smelt both salt water and powder. The +Jenkins had inclined hitherto, as far as I can make out, to the +land service. Stephen's son had been a soldier; William (fourth of +Stowting) had been an officer of the unhappy Braddock's in America, +where, by the way, he owned and afterwards sold an estate on the +James River, called, after the parental seat; of which I should +like well to hear if it still bears the name. It was probably by +the influence of Captain Buckner, already connected with the family +by his first marriage, that Charles Jenkin turned his mind in the +direction of the navy; and it was in Buckner's own ship, the +PROTHEE, 64, that the lad made his only campaign. It was in the +days of Rodney's war, when the PROTHEE, we read, captured two large +privateers to windward of Barbadoes, and was 'materially and +distinguishedly engaged' in both the actions with De Grasse. While +at sea Charles kept a journal, and made strange archaic pilot-book +sketches, part plan, part elevation, some of which survive for the +amusement of posterity. He did a good deal of surveying, so that +here we may perhaps lay our finger on the beginning of Fleeming's +education as an engineer. What is still more strange, among the +relics of the handsome midshipman and his stay in the gun-room of +the PROTHEE, I find a code of signals graphically represented, for +all the world as it would have been done by his grandson. + +On the declaration of peace, Charles, because he had suffered from +scurvy, received his mother's orders to retire; and he was not the +man to refuse a request, far less to disobey a command. Thereupon +he turned farmer, a trade he was to practice on a large scale; and +we find him married to a Miss Schirr, a woman of some fortune, the +daughter of a London merchant. Stephen, the not very reverend, was +still alive, galloping about the country or skulking in his +chancel. It does not appear whether he let or sold the paternal +manor to Charles; one or other, it must have been; and the sailor- +farmer settled at Stowting, with his wife, his mother, his +unmarried sister, and his sick brother John. Out of the six people +of whom his nearest family consisted, three were in his own house, +and two others (the horse-leeches, Stephen and Thomas) he appears +to have continued to assist with more amiability than wisdom. He +hunted, belonged to the Yeomanry, owned famous horses, Maggie and +Lucy, the latter coveted by royalty itself. 'Lord Rokeby, his +neighbour, called him kinsman,' writes my artless chronicler, 'and +altogether life was very cheery.' At Stowting his three sons, +John, Charles, and Thomas Frewen, and his younger daughter, Anna, +were all born to him; and the reader should here be told that it is +through the report of this second Charles (born 1801) that he has +been looking on at these confused passages of family history. + +In the year 1805 the ruin of the Jenkins was begun. It was the +work of a fallacious lady already mentioned, Aunt Anne Frewen, a +sister of Mrs. John. Twice married, first to her cousin Charles +Frewen, clerk to the Court of Chancery, Brunswick Herald, and Usher +of the Black Rod, and secondly to Admiral Buckner, she was denied +issue in both beds, and being very rich - she died worth about +60,000L., mostly in land - she was in perpetual quest of an heir. +The mirage of this fortune hung before successive members of the +Jenkin family until her death in 1825, when it dissolved and left +the latest Alnaschar face to face with bankruptcy. The grandniece, +Stephen's daughter, the one who had not 'married imprudently,' +appears to have been the first; for she was taken abroad by the +golden aunt, and died in her care at Ghent in 1792. Next she +adopted William, the youngest of the five nephews; took him abroad +with her - it seems as if that were in the formula; was shut up +with him in Paris by the Revolution; brought him back to Windsor, +and got him a place in the King's Body-Guard, where he attracted +the notice of George III. by his proficiency in German. In 1797, +being on guard at St. James's Palace, William took a cold which +carried him off; and Aunt Anne was once more left heirless. +Lastly, in 1805, perhaps moved by the Admiral, who had a kindness +for his old midshipman, perhaps pleased by the good looks and the +good nature of the man himself, Mrs. Buckner turned her eyes upon +Charles Jenkin. He was not only to be the heir, however, he was to +be the chief hand in a somewhat wild scheme of family farming. +Mrs. Jenkin, the mother, contributed 164 acres of land; Mrs. +Buckner, 570, some at Northiam, some farther off; Charles let one- +half of Stowting to a tenant, and threw the other and various +scattered parcels into the common enterprise; so that the whole +farm amounted to near upon a thousand acres, and was scattered over +thirty miles of country. The ex-seaman of thirty-nine, on whose +wisdom and ubiquity the scheme depended, was to live in the +meanwhile without care or fear. He was to check himself in +nothing; his two extravagances, valuable horses and worthless +brothers, were to be indulged in comfort; and whether the year +quite paid itself or not, whether successive years left accumulated +savings or only a growing deficit, the fortune of the golden aunt +should in the end repair all. + +On this understanding Charles Jenkin transported his family to +Church House, Northiam: Charles the second, then a child of three, +among the number. Through the eyes of the boy we have glimpses of +the life that followed: of Admiral and Mrs. Buckner driving up +from Windsor in a coach and six, two post-horses and their own +four; of the house full of visitors, the great roasts at the fire, +the tables in the servants' hall laid for thirty or forty for a +month together; of the daily press of neighbours, many of whom, +Frewens, Lords, Bishops, Batchellors, and Dynes, were also +kinsfolk; and the parties 'under the great spreading chestnuts of +the old fore court,' where the young people danced and made merry +to the music of the village band. Or perhaps, in the depth of +winter, the father would bid young Charles saddle his pony; they +would ride the thirty miles from Northiam to Stowting, with the +snow to the pony's saddle girths, and be received by the tenants +like princes. + +This life of delights, with the continual visible comings and +goings of the golden aunt, was well qualified to relax the fibre of +the lads. John, the heir, a yeoman and a fox-hunter, 'loud and +notorious with his whip and spurs,' settled down into a kind of +Tony Lumpkin, waiting for the shoes of his father and his aunt. +Thomas Frewen, the youngest, is briefly dismissed as 'a handsome +beau'; but he had the merit or the good fortune to become a doctor +of medicine, so that when the crash came he was not empty-handed +for the war of life. Charles, at the day-school of Northiam, grew +so well acquainted with the rod, that his floggings became matter +of pleasantry and reached the ears of Admiral Buckner. Hereupon +that tall, rough-voiced, formidable uncle entered with the lad into +a covenant: every time that Charles was thrashed he was to pay the +Admiral a penny; everyday that he escaped, the process was to be +reversed. 'I recollect,' writes Charles, 'going crying to my +mother to be taken to the Admiral to pay my debt.' It would seem +by these terms the speculation was a losing one; yet it is probable +it paid indirectly by bringing the boy under remark. The Admiral +was no enemy to dunces; he loved courage, and Charles, while yet +little more than a baby, would ride the great horse into the pond. +Presently it was decided that here was the stuff of a fine sailor; +and at an early period the name of Charles Jenkin was entered on a +ship's books. + +From Northiam he was sent to another school at Boonshill, near Rye, +where the master took 'infinite delight' in strapping him. 'It +keeps me warm and makes you grow,' he used to say. And the stripes +were not altogether wasted, for the dunce, though still very 'raw,' +made progress with his studies. It was known, moreover, that he +was going to sea, always a ground of pre-eminence with schoolboys; +and in his case the glory was not altogether future, it wore a +present form when he came driving to Rye behind four horses in the +same carriage with an admiral. 'I was not a little proud, you may +believe,' says he. + +In 1814, when he was thirteen years of age, he was carried by his +father to Chichester to the Bishop's Palace. The Bishop had heard +from his brother the Admiral that Charles was likely to do well, +and had an order from Lord Melville for the lad's admission to the +Royal Naval College at Portsmouth. Both the Bishop and the Admiral +patted him on the head and said, 'Charles will restore the old +family'; by which I gather with some surprise that, even in these +days of open house at Northiam and golden hope of my aunt's +fortune, the family was supposed to stand in need of restoration. +But the past is apt to look brighter than nature, above all to +those enamoured of their genealogy; and the ravages of Stephen and +Thomas must have always given matter of alarm. + +What with the flattery of bishops and admirals, the fine company in +which he found himself at Portsmouth, his visits home, with their +gaiety and greatness of life, his visits to Mrs. Buckner (soon a +widow) at Windsor, where he had a pony kept for him, and visited at +Lord Melville's and Lord Harcourt's and the Leveson-Gowers, he +began to have 'bumptious notions,' and his head was 'somewhat +turned with fine people'; as to some extent it remained throughout +his innocent and honourable life. + +In this frame of mind the boy was appointed to the CONQUEROR, +Captain Davie, humorously known as Gentle Johnnie. The captain had +earned this name by his style of discipline, which would have +figured well in the pages of Marryat: 'Put the prisoner's head in +a bag and give him another dozen!' survives as a specimen of his +commands; and the men were often punished twice or thrice in a +week. On board the ship of this disciplinarian, Charles and his +father were carried in a billy-boat from Sheerness in December, +1816: Charles with an outfit suitable to his pretensions, a +twenty-guinea sextant and 120 dollars in silver, which were ordered +into the care of the gunner. 'The old clerks and mates,' he +writes, 'used to laugh and jeer me for joining the ship in a billy- +boat, and when they found I was from Kent, vowed I was an old +Kentish smuggler. This to my pride, you will believe, was not a +little offensive.' + +THE CONQUEROR carried the flag of Vice-Admiral Plampin, commanding +at the Cape and St. Helena; and at that all-important islet, in +July, 1817, she relieved the flagship of Sir Pulteney Malcolm. +Thus it befel that Charles Jenkin, coming too late for the epic of +the French wars, played a small part in the dreary and disgraceful +afterpiece of St. Helena. Life on the guard-ship was onerous and +irksome. The anchor was never lifted, sail never made, the great +guns were silent; none was allowed on shore except on duty; all day +the movements of the imperial captive were signalled to and fro; +all night the boats rowed guard around the accessible portions of +the coast. This prolonged stagnation and petty watchfulness in +what Napoleon himself called that 'unchristian' climate, told +cruelly on the health of the ship's company. In eighteen months, +according to O'Meara, the CONQUEROR had lost one hundred and ten +men and invalided home one hundred and seven, being more than a +third of her complement. It does not seem that our young +midshipman so much as once set eyes on Bonaparte; and yet in other +ways Jenkin was more fortunate than some of his comrades. He drew +in water-colour; not so badly as his father, yet ill enough; and +this art was so rare aboard the CONQUEROR that even his humble +proficiency marked him out and procured him some alleviations. +Admiral Plampin had succeeded Napoleon at the Briars; and here he +had young Jenkin staying with him to make sketches of the historic +house. One of these is before me as I write, and gives a strange +notion of the arts in our old English Navy. Yet it was again as an +artist that the lad was taken for a run to Rio, and apparently for +a second outing in a ten-gun brig. These, and a cruise of six +weeks to windward of the island undertaken by the CONQUEROR herself +in quest of health, were the only breaks in three years of +murderous inaction; and at the end of that period Jenkin was +invalided home, having 'lost his health entirely.' + +As he left the deck of the guard-ship the historic part of his +career came to an end. For forty-two years he continued to serve +his country obscurely on the seas, sometimes thanked for +inconspicuous and honourable services, but denied any opportunity +of serious distinction. He was first two years in the LARNE, +Captain Tait, hunting pirates and keeping a watch on the Turkish +and Greek squadrons in the Archipelago. Captain Tait was a +favourite with Sir Thomas Maitland, High Commissioner of the Ionian +Islands - King Tom as he was called - who frequently took passage +in the LARNE. King Tom knew every inch of the Mediterranean, and +was a terror to the officers of the watch. He would come on deck +at night; and with his broad Scotch accent, 'Well, sir,' he would +say, 'what depth of water have ye? Well now, sound; and ye'll just +find so or so many fathoms,' as the case might be; and the +obnoxious passenger was generally right. On one occasion, as the +ship was going into Corfu, Sir Thomas came up the hatchway and cast +his eyes towards the gallows. 'Bangham' - Charles Jenkin heard him +say to his aide-de-camp, Lord Bangham - 'where the devil is that +other chap? I left four fellows hanging there; now I can only see +three. Mind there is another there to-morrow.' And sure enough +there was another Greek dangling the next day. 'Captain Hamilton, +of the CAMBRIAN, kept the Greeks in order afloat,' writes my +author, 'and King Tom ashore.' + +From 1823 onward, the chief scene of Charles Jenkin's activities +was in the West Indies, where he was engaged off and on till 1844, +now as a subaltern, now in a vessel of his own, hunting out +pirates, 'then very notorious' in the Leeward Islands, cruising +after slavers, or carrying dollars and provisions for the +Government. While yet a midshipman, he accompanied Mr. Cockburn to +Caraccas and had a sight of Bolivar. In the brigantine GRIFFON, +which he commanded in his last years in the West Indies, he carried +aid to Guadeloupe after the earthquake, and twice earned the thanks +of Government: once for an expedition to Nicaragua to extort, +under threat of a blockade, proper apologies and a sum of money due +to certain British merchants; and once during an insurrection in +San Domingo, for the rescue of certain others from a perilous +imprisonment and the recovery of a 'chest of money' of which they +had been robbed. Once, on the other hand, he earned his share of +public censure. This was in 1837, when he commanded the ROMNEY +lying in the inner harbour of Havannah. The ROMNEY was in no +proper sense a man-of-war; she was a slave-hulk, the bonded +warehouse of the Mixed Slave Commission; where negroes, captured +out of slavers under Spanish colours, were detained provisionally, +till the Commission should decide upon their case and either set +them free or bind them to apprenticeship. To this ship, already an +eye-sore to the authorities, a Cuban slave made his escape. The +position was invidious; on one side were the tradition of the +British flag and the state of public sentiment at home; on the +other, the certainty that if the slave were kept, the ROMNEY would +be ordered at once out of the harbour, and the object of the Mixed +Commission compromised. Without consultation with any other +officer, Captain Jenkin (then lieutenant) returned the man to shore +and took the Captain-General's receipt. Lord Palmerston approved +his course; but the zealots of the anti-slave trade movement (never +to be named without respect) were much dissatisfied; and thirty- +nine years later, the matter was again canvassed in Parliament, and +Lord Palmerston and Captain Jenkin defended by Admiral Erskine in a +letter to the TIMES (March 13, 1876). + +In 1845, while still lieutenant, Charles Jenkin acted as Admiral +Pigot's flag captain in the Cove of Cork, where there were some +thirty pennants; and about the same time, closed his career by an +act of personal bravery. He had proceeded with his boats to the +help of a merchant vessel, whose cargo of combustibles had taken +fire and was smouldering under hatches; his sailors were in the +hold, where the fumes were already heavy, and Jenkin was on deck +directing operations, when he found his orders were no longer +answered from below: he jumped down without hesitation and slung +up several insensible men with his own hand. For this act, he +received a letter from the Lords of the Admiralty expressing a +sense of his gallantry; and pretty soon after was promoted +Commander, superseded, and could never again obtain employment. + +In 1828 or 1829, Charles Jenkin was in the same watch with another +midshipman, Robert Colin Campbell Jackson, who introduced him to +his family in Jamaica. The father, the Honourable Robert Jackson, +Custos Rotulorum of Kingston, came of a Yorkshire family, said to +be originally Scotch; and on the mother's side, counted kinship +with some of the Forbeses. The mother was Susan Campbell, one of +the Campbells of Auchenbreck. Her father Colin, a merchant in +Greenock, is said to have been the heir to both the estate and the +baronetcy; he claimed neither, which casts a doubt upon the fact, +but he had pride enough himself, and taught enough pride to his +family, for any station or descent in Christendom. He had four +daughters. One married an Edinburgh writer, as I have it on a +first account - a minister, according to another - a man at least +of reasonable station, but not good enough for the Campbells of +Auchenbreck; and the erring one was instantly discarded. Another +married an actor of the name of Adcock, whom (as I receive the +tale) she had seen acting in a barn; but the phrase should perhaps +be regarded rather as a measure of the family annoyance, than a +mirror of the facts. The marriage was not in itself unhappy; +Adcock was a gentleman by birth and made a good husband; the family +reasonably prospered, and one of the daughters married no less a +man than Clarkson Stanfield. But by the father, and the two +remaining Miss Campbells, people of fierce passions and a truly +Highland pride, the derogation was bitterly resented. For long the +sisters lived estranged then, Mrs. Jackson and Mrs. Adcock were +reconciled for a moment, only to quarrel the more fiercely; the +name of Mrs. Adcock was proscribed, nor did it again pass her +sister's lips, until the morning when she announced: 'Mary Adcock +is dead; I saw her in her shroud last night.' Second sight was +hereditary in the house; and sure enough, as I have it reported, on +that very night Mrs. Adcock had passed away. Thus, of the four +daughters, two had, according to the idiotic notions of their +friends, disgraced themselves in marriage; the others supported the +honour of the family with a better grace, and married West Indian +magnates of whom, I believe, the world has never heard and would +not care to hear: So strange a thing is this hereditary pride. Of +Mr. Jackson, beyond the fact that he was Fleeming's grandfather, I +know naught. His wife, as I have said, was a woman of fierce +passions; she would tie her house slaves to the bed and lash them +with her own hand; and her conduct to her wild and down-going sons, +was a mixture of almost insane self-sacrifice and wholly insane +violence of temper. She had three sons and one daughter. Two of +the sons went utterly to ruin, and reduced their mother to poverty. +The third went to India, a slim, delicate lad, and passed so wholly +from the knowledge of his relatives that he was thought to be long +dead. Years later, when his sister was living in Genoa, a red- +bearded man of great strength and stature, tanned by years in +India, and his hands covered with barbaric gems, entered the room +unannounced, as she was playing the piano, lifted her from her +seat, and kissed her. It was her brother, suddenly returned out of +a past that was never very clearly understood, with the rank of +general, many strange gems, many cloudy stories of adventure, and +next his heart, the daguerreotype of an Indian prince with whom he +had mixed blood. + +The last of this wild family, the daughter, Henrietta Camilla, +became the wife of the midshipman Charles, and the mother of the +subject of this notice, Fleeming Jenkin. She was a woman of parts +and courage. Not beautiful, she had a far higher gift, the art of +seeming so; played the part of a belle in society, while far +lovelier women were left unattended; and up to old age had much of +both the exigency and the charm that mark that character. She drew +naturally, for she had no training, with unusual skill; and it was +from her, and not from the two naval artists, that Fleeming +inherited his eye and hand. She played on the harp and sang with +something beyond the talent of an amateur. At the age of +seventeen, she heard Pasta in Paris; flew up in a fire of youthful +enthusiasm; and the next morning, all alone and without +introduction, found her way into the presence of the PRIMA DONNA +and begged for lessons. Pasta made her sing, kissed her when she +had done, and though she refused to be her mistress, placed her in +the hands of a friend. Nor was this all, for when Pasta returned +to Paris, she sent for the girl (once at least) to test her +progress. But Mrs. Jenkin's talents were not so remarkable as her +fortitude and strength of will; and it was in an art for which she +had no natural taste (the art of literature) that she appeared +before the public. Her novels, though they attained and merited a +certain popularity both in France and England, are a measure only +of her courage. They were a task, not a beloved task; they were +written for money in days of poverty, and they served their end. +In the least thing as well as in the greatest, in every province of +life as well as in her novels, she displayed the same capacity of +taking infinite pains, which descended to her son. When she was +about forty (as near as her age was known) she lost her voice; set +herself at once to learn the piano, working eight hours a day; and +attained to such proficiency that her collaboration in chamber +music was courted by professionals. And more than twenty years +later, the old lady might have been seen dauntlessly beginning the +study of Hebrew. This is the more ethereal part of courage; nor +was she wanting in the more material. Once when a neighbouring +groom, a married man, had seduced her maid, Mrs. Jenkin mounted her +horse, rode over to the stable entrance and horsewhipped the man +with her own hand. + +How a match came about between this talented and spirited girl and +the young midshipman, is not very I easy to conceive. Charles +Jenkin was one of the finest creatures breathing; loyalty, +devotion, simple natural piety, boyish cheerfulness, tender and +manly sentiment in the old sailor fashion, were in him inherent and +inextinguishable either by age, suffering, or injustice. He +looked, as he was, every inch a gentleman; he must have been +everywhere notable, even among handsome men, both for his face and +his gallant bearing; not so much that of a sailor, you would have +said, as like one of those gentle and graceful soldiers that, to +this day, are the most pleasant of Englishmen to see. But though +he was in these ways noble, the dunce scholar of Northiam was to +the end no genius. Upon all points that a man must understand to +be a gentleman, to be upright, gallant, affectionate and dead to +self, Captain Jenkin was more knowing than one among a thousand; +outside of that, his mind was very largely blank. He had indeed a +simplicity that came near to vacancy; and in the first forty years +of his married life, this want grew more accentuated. In both +families imprudent marriages had been the rule; but neither Jenkin +nor Campbell had ever entered into a more unequal union. It was +the captain's good looks, we may suppose, that gained for him this +elevation; and in some ways and for many years of his life, he had +to pay the penalty. His wife, impatient of his incapacity and +surrounded by brilliant friends, used him with a certain contempt. +She was the managing partner; the life was hers, not his; after his +retirement they lived much abroad, where the poor captain, who +could never learn any language but his own, sat in the corner +mumchance; and even his son, carried away by his bright mother, did +not recognise for long the treasures of simple chivalry that lay +buried in the heart of his father. Yet it would be an error to +regard this marriage as unfortunate. It not only lasted long +enough to justify itself in a beautiful and touching epilogue, but +it gave to the world the scientific work and what (while time was) +were of far greater value, the delightful qualities of Fleeming +Jenkin. The Kentish-Welsh family, facile, extravagant, generous to +a fault and far from brilliant, had given the father, an extreme +example of its humble virtues. On the other side, the wild, cruel, +proud, and somewhat blackguard stock of the Scotch Campbell- +Jacksons, had put forth, in the person of the mother all its force +and courage. + +The marriage fell in evil days. In 1823, the bubble of the Golden +Aunt's inheritance had burst. She died holding the hand of the +nephew she had so wantonly deceived; at the last she drew him down +and seemed to bless him, surely with some remorseful feeling; for +when the will was opened, there was not found so much as the +mention of his name. He was deeply in debt; in debt even to the +estate of his deceiver, so that he had to sell a piece of land to +clear himself. 'My dear boy,' he said to Charles, 'there will be +nothing left for you. I am a ruined man.' And here follows for me +the strangest part of this story. From the death of the +treacherous aunt, Charles Jenkin, senior, had still some nine years +to live; it was perhaps too late for him to turn to saving, and +perhaps his affairs were past restoration. But his family at least +had all this while to prepare; they were still young men, and knew +what they had to look for at their father's death; and yet when +that happened in September, 1831, the heir was still apathetically +waiting. Poor John, the days of his whips and spurs, and Yeomanry +dinners, were quite over; and with that incredible softness of the +Jenkin nature, he settled down for the rest of a long life, into +something not far removed above a peasant. The mill farm at +Stowting had been saved out of the wreck; and here he built himself +a house on the Mexican model, and made the two ends meet with +rustic thrift, gathering dung with his own hands upon the road and +not at all abashed at his employment. In dress, voice, and manner, +he fell into mere country plainness; lived without the least care +for appearances, the least regret for the past or discontentment +with the present; and when he came to die, died with Stoic +cheerfulness, announcing that he had had a comfortable time and was +yet well pleased to go. One would think there was little active +virtue to be inherited from such a race; and yet in this same +voluntary peasant, the special gift of Fleeming Jenkin was already +half developed. The old man to the end was perpetually inventing; +his strange, ill-spelled, unpunctuated correspondence is full (when +he does not drop into cookery receipts) of pumps, road engines, +steam-diggers, steam-ploughs, and steam-threshing machines; and I +have it on Fleeming's word that what he did was full of ingenuity - +only, as if by some cross destiny, useless. These disappointments +he not only took with imperturbable good humour, but rejoiced with +a particular relish over his nephew's success in the same field. +'I glory in the professor,' he wrote to his brother; and to +Fleeming himself, with a touch of simple drollery, 'I was much +pleased with your lecture, but why did you hit me so hard with +Conisure's' (connoisseur's, QUASI amateur's) 'engineering? Oh, +what presumption! - either of you or MYself!' A quaint, pathetic +figure, this of uncle John, with his dung cart and his inventions; +and the romantic fancy of his Mexican house; and his craze about +the Lost Tribes which seemed to the worthy man the key of all +perplexities; and his quiet conscience, looking back on a life not +altogether vain, for he was a good son to his father while his +father lived, and when evil days approached, he had proved himself +a cheerful Stoic. + +It followed from John's inertia, that the duty of winding up the +estate fell into the hands of Charles. He managed it with no more +skill than might be expected of a sailor ashore, saved a bare +livelihood for John and nothing for the rest. Eight months later, +he married Miss Jackson; and with her money, bought in some two- +thirds of Stowting. In the beginning of the little family history +which I have been following to so great an extent, the Captain +mentions, with a delightful pride: 'A Court Baron and Court Leet +are regularly held by the Lady of the Manor, Mrs. Henrietta Camilla +Jenkin'; and indeed the pleasure of so describing his wife, was the +most solid benefit of the investment; for the purchase was heavily +encumbered and paid them nothing till some years before their +death. In the meanwhile, the Jackson family also, what with wild +sons, an indulgent mother and the impending emancipation of the +slaves, was moving nearer and nearer to beggary; and thus of two +doomed and declining houses, the subject of this memoir was born, +heir to an estate and to no money, yet with inherited qualities +that were to make him known and loved. + + + +CHAPTER II. 1833-1851. + + + +Birth and Childhood - Edinburgh - Frankfort-on-the-Main - Paris - +The Revolution of 1848 - The Insurrection - Flight to Italy - +Sympathy with Italy - The Insurrection in Genoa - A Student in +Genoa - The Lad and his Mother. + + +HENRY CHARLES FLEEMING JENKIN (Fleeming, pronounced Flemming, to +his friends and family) was born in a Government building on the +coast of Kent, near Dungeness, where his father was serving at the +time in the Coastguard, on March 25, 1833, and named after Admiral +Fleeming, one of his father's protectors in the navy. + +His childhood was vagrant like his life. Once he was left in the +care of his grandmother Jackson, while Mrs. Jenkin sailed in her +husband's ship and stayed a year at the Havannah. The tragic woman +was besides from time to time a member of the family she was in +distress of mind and reduced in fortune by the misconduct of her +sons; her destitution and solitude made it a recurring duty to +receive her, her violence continually enforced fresh separations. +In her passion of a disappointed mother, she was a fit object of +pity; but her grandson, who heard her load his own mother with +cruel insults and reproaches, conceived for her an indignant and +impatient hatred, for which he blamed himself in later life. It is +strange from this point of view to see his childish letters to Mrs. +Jackson; and to think that a man, distinguished above all by +stubborn truthfulness, should have been brought up to such +dissimulation. But this is of course unavoidable in life; it did +no harm to Jenkin; and whether he got harm or benefit from a so +early acquaintance with violent and hateful scenes, is more than I +can guess. The experience, at least, was formative; and in judging +his character it should not be forgotten. But Mrs. Jackson was not +the only stranger in their gates; the Captain's sister, Aunt Anna +Jenkin, lived with them until her death; she had all the Jenkin +beauty of countenance, though she was unhappily deformed in body +and of frail health; and she even excelled her gentle and +ineffectual family in all amiable qualities. So that each of the +two races from which Fleeming sprang, had an outpost by his very +cradle; the one he instinctively loved, the other hated; and the +life-long war in his members had begun thus early by a victory for +what was best. + +We can trace the family from one country place to another in the +south of Scotland; where the child learned his taste for sport by +riding home the pony from the moors. Before he was nine he could +write such a passage as this about a Hallowe'en observance: 'I +pulled a middling-sized cabbage-runt with a pretty sum of gold +about it. No witches would run after me when I was sowing my +hempseed this year; my nuts blazed away together very comfortably +to the end of their lives, and when mamma put hers in which were +meant for herself and papa they blazed away in the like manner.' +Before he was ten he could write, with a really irritating +precocity, that he had been 'making some pictures from a book +called "Les Francais peints par euxmemes." . . . It is full of +pictures of all classes, with a description of each in French. The +pictures are a little caricatured, but not much.' Doubtless this +was only an echo from his mother, but it shows the atmosphere in +which he breathed. It must have been a good change for this art +critic to be the playmate of Mary Macdonald, their gardener's +daughter at Barjarg, and to sup with her family on potatoes and +milk; and Fleeming himself attached some value to this early and +friendly experience of another class. + +His education, in the formal sense, began at Jedburgh. Thence he +went to the Edinburgh Academy, where he was the classmate of Tait +and Clerk Maxwell, bore away many prizes, and was once unjustly +flogged by Rector Williams. He used to insist that all his bad +schoolfellows had died early, a belief amusingly characteristic of +the man's consistent optimism. In 1846 the mother and son +proceeded to Frankfort-on-the-Main, where they were soon joined by +the father, now reduced to inaction and to play something like +third fiddle in his narrow household. The emancipation of the +slaves had deprived them of their last resource beyond the half-pay +of a captain; and life abroad was not only desirable for the sake +of Fleeming's education, it was almost enforced by reasons of +economy. But it was, no doubt, somewhat hard upon the captain. +Certainly that perennial boy found a companion in his son; they +were both active and eager, both willing to be amused, both young, +if not in years, then in character. They went out together on +excursions and sketched old castles, sitting side by side; they had +an angry rivalry in walking, doubtless equally sincere upon both +sides; and indeed we may say that Fleeming was exceptionally +favoured, and that no boy had ever a companion more innocent, +engaging, gay, and airy. But although in this case it would be +easy to exaggerate its import, yet, in the Jenkin family also, the +tragedy of the generations was proceeding, and the child was +growing out of his father's knowledge. His artistic aptitude was +of a different order. Already he had his quick sight of many sides +of life; he already overflowed with distinctions and +generalisations, contrasting the dramatic art and national +character of England, Germany, Italy, and France. If he were dull, +he would write stories and poems. 'I have written,' he says at +thirteen, 'a very long story in heroic measure, 300 lines, and +another Scotch story and innumerable bits of poetry'; and at the +same age he had not only a keen feeling for scenery, but could do +something with his pen to call it up. I feel I do always less than +justice to the delightful memory of Captain Jenkin; but with a lad +of this character, cutting the teeth of his intelligence, he was +sure to fall into the background. + +The family removed in 1847 to Paris, where Fleeming was put to +school under one Deluc. There he learned French, and (if the +captain is right) first began to show a taste for mathematics. But +a far more important teacher than Deluc was at hand; the year 1848, +so momentous for Europe, was momentous also for Fleeming's +character. The family politics were Liberal; Mrs. Jenkin, generous +before all things, was sure to be upon the side of exiles; and in +the house of a Paris friend of hers, Mrs. Turner - already known to +fame as Shelley's Cornelia de Boinville - Fleeming saw and heard +such men as Manin, Gioberti, and the Ruffinis. He was thus +prepared to sympathise with revolution; and when the hour came, and +he found himself in the midst of stirring and influential events, +the lad's whole character was moved. He corresponded at that time +with a young Edinburgh friend, one Frank Scott; and I am here going +to draw somewhat largely on this boyish correspondence. It gives +us at once a picture of the Revolution and a portrait of Jenkin at +fifteen; not so different (his friends will think) from the Jenkin +of the end - boyish, simple, opinionated, delighting in action, +delighting before all things in any generous sentiment. + + +'February 23, 1848. + +'When at 7 o'clock to-day I went out, I met a large band going +round the streets, calling on the inhabitants to illuminate their +houses, and bearing torches. This was all very good fun, and +everybody was delighted; but as they stopped rather long and were +rather turbulent in the Place de la Madeleine, near where we live' +[in the Rue Caumartin] 'a squadron of dragoons came up, formed, and +charged at a hand-gallop. This was a very pretty sight; the crowd +was not too thick, so they easily got away; and the dragoons only +gave blows with the back of the sword, which hurt but did not +wound. I was as close to them as I am now to the other side of the +table; it was rather impressive, however. At the second charge +they rode on the pavement and knocked the torches out of the +fellows' hands; rather a shame, too - wouldn't be stood in England. +. . . + +[At] 'ten minutes to ten . . . I went a long way along the +Boulevards, passing by the office of Foreign Affairs, where Guizot +lives, and where to-night there were about a thousand troops +protecting him from the fury of the populace. After this was +passed, the number of the people thickened, till about half a mile +further on, I met a troop of vagabonds, the wildest vagabonds in +the world - Paris vagabonds, well armed, having probably broken +into gunsmiths' shops and taken the guns and swords. They were +about a hundred. These were followed by about a thousand (I am +rather diminishing than exaggerating numbers all through), +indifferently armed with rusty sabres, sticks, etc. An uncountable +troop of gentlemen, workmen, shopkeepers' wives (Paris women dare +anything), ladies' maids, common women - in fact, a crowd of all +classes, though by far the greater number were of the better +dressed class - followed. Indeed, it was a splendid sight: the +mob in front chanting the "MARSEILLAISE," the national war hymn, +grave and powerful, sweetened by the night air - though night in +these splendid streets was turned into day, every window was filled +with lamps, dim torches were tossing in the crowd . . . for Guizot +has late this night given in his resignation, and this was an +improvised illumination. + +'I and my father had turned with the crowd, and were close behind +the second troop of vagabonds. Joy was on every face. I remarked +to papa that "I would not have missed the scene for anything, I +might never see such a splendid one," when PLONG went one shot - +every face went pale - R-R-R-R-R went the whole detachment, [and] +the whole crowd of gentlemen and ladies turned and cut. Such a +scene! - ladies, gentlemen, and vagabonds went sprawling in the +mud, not shot but tripped up; and those that went down could not +rise, they were trampled over. . . . I ran a short time straight on +and did not fall, then turned down a side street, ran fifty yards +and felt tolerably safe; looked for papa, did not see him; so +walked on quickly, giving the news as I went.' [It appears, from +another letter, the boy was the first to carry word of the firing +to the Rue St. Honore; and that his news wherever he brought it was +received with hurrahs. It was an odd entrance upon life for a +little English lad, thus to play the part of rumour in such a +crisis of the history of France.] + +'But now a new fear came over me. I had little doubt but my papa +was safe, but my fear was that he should arrive at home before me +and tell the story; in that case I knew my mamma would go half mad +with fright, so on I went as quick as possible. I heard no more +discharges. When I got half way home, I found my way blocked up by +troops. That way or the Boulevards I must pass. In the Boulevards +they were fighting, and I was afraid all other passages might be +blocked up . . . and I should have to sleep in a hotel in that +case, and then my mamma - however, after a long DETOUR, I found a +passage and ran home, and in our street joined papa. + +'. . . I'll tell you to-morrow the other facts gathered from +newspapers and papa. . . . Tonight I have given you what I have +seen with my own eyes an hour ago, and began trembling with +excitement and fear. If I have been too long on this one subject, +it is because it is yet before my eyes. + + +'Monday, 24. + + +'It was that fire raised the people. There was fighting all +through the night in the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette, on the +Boulevards where they had been shot at, and at the Porte St. Denis. +At ten o'clock, they resigned the house of the Minister of Foreign +Affairs (where the disastrous volley was fired) to the people, who +immediately took possession of it. I went to school, but [was] +hardly there when the row in that quarter commenced. Barricades +began to be fixed. Everyone was very grave now; the EXTERNES went +away, but no one came to fetch me, so I had to stay. No lessons +could go on. A troop of armed men took possession of the +barricades, so it was supposed I should have to sleep there. The +revolters came and asked for arms, but Deluc (head-master) is a +National Guard, and he said he had only his own and he wanted them; +but he said he would not fire on them. Then they asked for wine, +which he gave them. They took good care not to get drunk, knowing +they would not be able to fight. They were very polite and behaved +extremely well. + +'About 12 o'clock a servant came for a boy who lived near me, [and] +Deluc thought it best to send me with him. We heard a good deal of +firing near, but did not come across any of the parties. As we +approached the railway, the barricades were no longer formed of +palings, planks, or stones; but they had got all the omnibuses as +they passed, sent the horses and passengers about their business, +and turned them over. A double row of overturned coaches made a +capital barricade, with a few paving stones. + +'When I got home I found to my astonishment that in our fighting +quarter it was much quieter. Mamma had just been out seeing the +troops in the Place de la Concorde, when suddenly the Municipal +Guard, now fairly exasperated, prevented the National Guard from +proceeding, and fired at them; the National Guard had come with +their muskets not loaded, but at length returned the fire. Mamma +saw the National Guard fire. The Municipal Guard were round the +corner. She was delighted for she saw no person killed, though +many of the Municipals were. . . . . + +'I immediately went out with my papa (mamma had just come back with +him) and went to the Place de la Concorde. There was an enormous +quantity of troops in the Place. Suddenly the gates of the gardens +of the Tuileries opened: we rushed forward, out gallopped an +enormous number of cuirassiers, in the middle of which were a +couple of low carriages, said first to contain the Count de Paris +and the Duchess of Orleans, but afterwards they said it was the +King and Queen; and then I heard he had abdicated. I returned and +gave the news. + +'Went out again up the Boulevards. The house of the Minister of +Foreign Affairs was filled with people and "HOTEL DU PEUPLE" +written on it; the Boulevards were barricaded with fine old trees +that were cut down and stretched all across the road. We went +through a great many little streets, all strongly barricaded, and +sentinels of the people at the principal of them. The streets were +very unquiet, filled with armed men and women, for the troops had +followed the ex-King to Neuilly and left Paris in the power of the +people. We met the captain of the Third Legion of the National +Guard (who had principally protected the people), badly wounded by +a Municipal Guard, stretched on a litter. He was in possession of +his senses. He was surrounded by a troop of men crying "Our brave +captain - we have him yet - he's not dead! VIVE LA REFORME!" This +cry was responded to by all, and every one saluted him as he +passed. I do not know if he was mortally wounded. That Third +Legion has behaved splendidly. + +'I then returned, and shortly afterwards went out again to the +garden of the Tuileries. They were given up to the people and the +palace was being sacked. The people were firing blank cartridges +to testify their joy, and they had a cannon on the top of the +palace. It was a sight to see a palace sacked and armed vagabonds +firing out of the windows, and throwing shirts, papers, and dresses +of all kinds out of the windows. They are not rogues, these +French; they are not stealing, burning, or doing much harm. In the +Tuileries they have dressed up some of the statues, broken some, +and stolen nothing but queer dresses. I say, Frank, you must not +hate the French; hate the Germans if you like. The French laugh at +us a little, and call out GODDAM in the streets; but to-day, in +civil war, when they might have put a bullet through our heads, I +never was insulted once. + +'At present we have a provisional Government, consisting of Odion +[SIC] Barrot, Lamartine, Marast, and some others; among them a +common workman, but very intelligent. This is a triumph of liberty +- rather! + +'Now then, Frank, what do you think of it? I in a revolution and +out all day. Just think, what fun! So it was at first, till I was +fired at yesterday; but to-day I was not frightened, but it turned +me sick at heart, I don't know why. There has been no great +bloodshed, [though] I certainly have seen men's blood several +times. But there's something shocking to see a whole armed +populace, though not furious, for not one single shop has been +broken open, except the gunsmiths' shops, and most of the arms will +probably be taken back again. For the French have no cupidity in +their nature; they don't like to steal - it is not in their nature. +I shall send this letter in a day or two, when I am sure the post +will go again. I know I have been a long time writing, but I hope +you will find the matter of this letter interesting, as coming from +a person resident on the spot; though probably you don't take much +interest in the French, but I can think, write, and speak on no +other subject. + + +'Feb. 25. + + +'There is no more fighting, the people have conquered; but the +barricades are still kept up, and the people are in arms, more than +ever fearing some new act of treachery on the part of the ex-King. +The fight where I was was the principal cause of the Revolution. I +was in little danger from the shot, for there was an immense crowd +in front of me, though quite within gunshot. [By another letter, a +hundred yards from the troops.] I wished I had stopped there. + +'The Paris streets are filled with the most extraordinary crowds of +men, women and children, ladies and gentlemen. Every person +joyful. The bands of armed men are perfectly polite. Mamma and +aunt to-day walked through armed crowds alone, that were firing +blank cartridges in all directions. Every person made way with the +greatest politeness, and one common man with a blouse, coming by +accident against her immediately stopped to beg her pardon in the +politest manner. There are few drunken men. The Tuileries is +still being run over by the people; they only broke two things, a +bust of Louis Philippe and one of Marshal Bugeaud, who fired on the +people. . . . . + +'I have been out all day again to-day, and precious tired I am. +The Republican party seem the strongest, and are going about with +red ribbons in their button-holes. . . . . + +'The title of "Mister" is abandoned; they say nothing but +"Citizen," and the people are shaking hands amazingly. They have +got to the top of the public monuments, and, mingling with bronze +or stone statues, five or six make a sort of TABLEAU VIVANT, the +top man holding up the red flag of the Republic; and right well +they do it, and very picturesque they look. I think I shall put +this letter in the post to-morrow as we got a letter to-night. + + +(On Envelope.) + + +'M. Lamartine has now by his eloquence conquered the whole armed +crowd of citizens threatening to kill him if he did not immediately +proclaim the Republic and red flag. He said he could not yield to +the citizens of Paris alone, that the whole country must be +consulted; that he chose the tricolour, for it had followed and +accompanied the triumphs of France all over the world, and that the +red flag had only been dipped in the blood of the citizens. For +sixty hours he has been quieting the people: he is at the head of +everything. Don't be prejudiced, Frank, by what you see in the +papers. The French have acted nobly, splendidly; there has been no +brutality, plundering, or stealing. . . . I did not like the +French before; but in this respect they are the finest people in +the world. I am so glad to have been here.' + + +And there one could wish to stop with this apotheosis of liberty +and order read with the generous enthusiasm of a boy; but as the +reader knows, it was but the first act of the piece. The letters, +vivid as they are, written as they were by a hand trembling with +fear and excitement, yet do injustice, in their boyishness of tone, +to the profound effect produced. At the sound of these songs and +shot of cannon, the boy's mind awoke. He dated his own +appreciation of the art of acting from the day when he saw and +heard Rachel recite the 'MARSEILLAISE' at the Francais, the +tricolour in her arms. What is still more strange, he had been up +to then invincibly indifferent to music, insomuch that he could not +distinguish 'God save the Queen' from 'Bonnie Dundee'; and now, to +the chanting of the mob, he amazed his family by learning and +singing 'MOURIR POUR LA PATRIE.' But the letters, though they +prepare the mind for no such revolution in the boy's tastes and +feelings, are yet full of entertaining traits. Let the reader note +Fleeming's eagerness to influence his friend Frank, an incipient +Tory (no less) as further history displayed; his unconscious +indifference to his father and devotion to his mother, betrayed in +so many significant expressions and omissions; the sense of dignity +of this diminutive 'person resident on the spot,' who was so happy +as to escape insult; and the strange picture of the household - +father, mother, son, and even poor Aunt Anna - all day in the +streets in the thick of this rough business, and the boy packed off +alone to school in a distant quarter on the very morrow of the +massacre. + +They had all the gift of enjoying life's texture as it comes; they +were all born optimists. The name of liberty was honoured in that +family, its spirit also, but within stringent limits; and some of +the foreign friends of Mrs. Jenkin were, as I have said, men +distinguished on the Liberal side. Like Wordsworth, they beheld + + +France standing on the top of golden hours +And human nature seeming born again. + + +At once, by temper and belief, they were formed to find their +element in such a decent and whiggish convulsion, spectacular in +its course, moderate in its purpose. For them, + + +Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, +But to be young was very heaven. + + +And I cannot but smile when I think that (again like Wordsworth) +they should have so specially disliked the consequence. + +It came upon them by surprise. Liberal friends of the precise +right shade of colour had assured them, in Mrs. Turner's drawing- +room, that all was for the best; and they rose on January 23 +without fear. About the middle of the day they heard the sound of +musketry, and the next morning they were wakened by the cannonade. +The French who had behaved so 'splendidly,' pausing, at the voice +of Lamartine, just where judicious Liberals could have desired - +the French, who had 'no cupidity in their nature,' were now about +to play a variation on the theme rebellion. The Jenkins took +refuge in the house of Mrs. Turner, the house of the false +prophets, 'Anna going with Mrs. Turner, that she might be prevented +speaking English, Fleeming, Miss H. and I (it is the mother who +writes) walking together. As we reached the Rue de Clichy, the +report of the cannon sounded close to our ears and made our hearts +sick, I assure you. The fighting was at the barrier Rochechouart, +a few streets off. All Saturday and Sunday we were a prey to great +alarm, there came so many reports that the insurgents were getting +the upper hand. One could tell the state of affairs from the +extreme quiet or the sudden hum in the street. When the news was +bad, all the houses closed and the people disappeared; when better, +the doors half opened and you heard the sound of men again. From +the upper windows we could see each discharge from the Bastille - I +mean the smoke rising - and also the flames and smoke from the +Boulevard la Chapelle. We were four ladies, and only Fleeming by +way of a man, and difficulty enough we had to keep him from joining +the National Guards - his pride and spirit were both fired. You +cannot picture to yourself the multitudes of soldiers, guards, and +armed men of all sorts we watched - not close to the window, +however, for such havoc had been made among them by the firing from +the windows, that as the battalions marched by, they cried, "Fermez +vos fenetres!" and it was very painful to watch their looks of +anxiety and suspicion as they marched by.' + +'The Revolution,' writes Fleeming to Frank Scott, 'was quite +delightful: getting popped at and run at by horses, and giving +sous for the wounded into little boxes guarded by the raggedest, +picturesquest, delightfullest, sentinels; but the insurrection! +ugh, I shudder to think at [SIC] it.' He found it 'not a bit of +fun sitting boxed up in the house four days almost. . . I was the +only GENTLEMAN to four ladies, and didn't they keep me in order! I +did not dare to show my face at a window, for fear of catching a +stray ball or being forced to enter the National Guard; [for] they +would have it I was a man full-grown, French, and every way fit to +fight. And my mamma was as bad as any of them; she that told me I +was a coward last time if I stayed in the house a quarter of an +hour! But I drew, examined the pistols, of which I found lots with +caps, powder, and ball, while sometimes murderous intentions of +killing a dozen insurgents and dying violently overpowered by +numbers. . . . .' We may drop this sentence here: under the +conduct of its boyish writer, it was to reach no legitimate end. + +Four days of such a discipline had cured the family of Paris; the +same year Fleeming was to write, in answer apparently to a question +of Frank Scott's, 'I could find no national game in France but +revolutions'; and the witticism was justified in their experience. +On the first possible day, they applied for passports, and were +advised to take the road to Geneva. It appears it was scarce safe +to leave Paris for England. Charles Reade, with keen dramatic +gusto, had just smuggled himself out of that city in the bottom of +a cab. English gold had been found on the insurgents, the name of +England was in evil odour; and it was thus - for strategic reasons, +so to speak - that Fleeming found himself on the way to that Italy +where he was to complete his education, and for which he cherished +to the end a special kindness. + +It was in Genoa they settled; partly for the sake of the captain, +who might there find naval comrades; partly because of the +Ruffinis, who had been friends of Mrs. Jenkin in their time of +exile and were now considerable men at home; partly, in fine, with +hopes that Fleeming might attend the University; in preparation for +which he was put at once to school. It was the year of Novara; +Mazzini was in Rome; the dry bones of Italy were moving; and for +people of alert and liberal sympathies the time was inspiriting. +What with exiles turned Ministers of State, universities thrown +open to Protestants, Fleeming himself the first Protestant student +in Genoa, and thus, as his mother writes, 'a living instance of the +progress of liberal ideas' - it was little wonder if the +enthusiastic young woman and the clever boy were heart and soul +upon the side of Italy. It should not be forgotten that they were +both on their first visit to that country; the mother still child +enough 'to be delighted when she saw real monks'; and both mother +and son thrilling with the first sight of snowy Alps, the blue +Mediterranean, and the crowded port and the palaces of Genoa. Nor +was their zeal without knowledge. Ruffini, deputy for Genoa and +soon to be head of the University, was at their side; and by means +of him the family appear to have had access to much Italian +society. To the end, Fleeming professed his admiration of the +Piedmontese and his unalterable confidence in the future of Italy +under their conduct; for Victor Emanuel, Cavour, the first La +Marmora and Garibaldi, he had varying degrees of sympathy and +praise: perhaps highest for the King, whose good sense and temper +filled him with respect - perhaps least for Garibaldi, whom he +loved but yet mistrusted. + +But this is to look forward: these were the days not of Victor +Emanuel but of Charles Albert; and it was on Charles Albert that +mother and son had now fixed their eyes as on the sword-bearer of +Italy. On Fleeming's sixteenth birthday, they were, the mother +writes, 'in great anxiety for news from the army. You can have no +idea what it is to live in a country where such a struggle is going +on. The interest is one that absorbs all others. We eat, drink, +and sleep to the noise of drums and musketry. You would enjoy and +almost admire Fleeming's enthusiasm and earnestness - and, courage, +I may say - for we are among the small minority of English who side +with the Italians. The other day, at dinner at the Consul's, boy +as he is, and in spite of my admonitions, Fleeming defended the +Italian cause, and so well that he "tripped up the heels of his +adversary" simply from being well-informed on the subject and +honest. He is as true as steel, and for no one will he bend right +or left. . . . . Do not fancy him a Bobadil,' she adds, 'he is +only a very true, candid boy. I am so glad he remains in all +respects but information a great child.' + +If this letter is correctly dated, the cause was already lost and +the King had already abdicated when these lines were written. No +sooner did the news reach Genoa, than there began 'tumultuous +movements'; and the Jenkins' received hints it would be wise to +leave the city. But they had friends and interests; even the +captain had English officers to keep him company, for Lord +Hardwicke's ship, the VENGEANCE, lay in port; and supposing the +danger to be real, I cannot but suspect the whole family of a +divided purpose, prudence being possibly weaker than curiosity. +Stay, at least, they did, and thus rounded their experience of the +revolutionary year. On Sunday, April 1, Fleeming and the captain +went for a ramble beyond the walls, leaving Aunt Anna and Mrs. +Jenkin to walk on the bastions with some friends. On the way back, +this party turned aside to rest in the Church of the Madonna delle +Grazie. 'We had remarked,' writes Mrs. Jenkin, 'the entire absence +of sentinels on the ramparts, and how the cannons were left in +solitary state; and I had just remarked "How quiet everything is!" +when suddenly we heard the drums begin to beat and distant shouts. +ACCUSTOMED AS WE ARE to revolutions, we never thought of being +frightened.' For all that, they resumed their return home. On the +way they saw men running and vociferating, but nothing to indicate +a general disturbance, until, near the Duke's palace, they came +upon and passed a shouting mob dragging along with it three cannon. +It had scarcely passed before they heard 'a rushing sound'; one of +the gentlemen thrust back the party of ladies under a shed, and the +mob passed again. A fine-looking young man was in their hands; and +Mrs. Jenkin saw him with his mouth open as if he sought to speak, +saw him tossed from one to another like a ball, and then saw him no +more. 'He was dead a few instants after, but the crowd hid that +terror from us. My knees shook under me and my sight left me.' +With this street tragedy, the curtain rose upon their second +revolution. + +The attack on Spirito Santo, and the capitulation and departure of +the troops speedily followed. Genoa was in the hands of the +Republicans, and now came a time when the English residents were in +a position to pay some return for hospitality received. Nor were +they backward. Our Consul (the same who had the benefit of +correction from Fleeming) carried the Intendente on board the +VENGEANCE, escorting him through the streets, getting along with +him on board a shore boat, and when the insurgents levelled their +muskets, standing up and naming himself, 'CONSOLE INGLESE.' A +friend of the Jenkins', Captain Glynne, had a more painful, if a +less dramatic part. One Colonel Nosozzo had been killed (I read) +while trying to prevent his own artillery from firing on the mob; +but in that hell's cauldron of a distracted city, there were no +distinctions made, and the Colonel's widow was hunted for her life. +In her grief and peril, the Glynnes received and hid her; Captain +Glynne sought and found her husband's body among the slain, saved +it for two days, brought the widow a lock of the dead man's hair; +but at last, the mob still strictly searching, seems to have +abandoned the body, and conveyed his guest on board the VENGEANCE. +The Jenkins also had their refugees, the family of an EMPLOYE +threatened by a decree. 'You should have seen me making a Union +Jack to nail over our door,' writes Mrs. Jenkin. 'I never worked +so fast in my life. Monday and Tuesday,' she continues, 'were +tolerably quiet, our hearts beating fast in the hope of La +Marmora's approach, the streets barricaded, and none but foreigners +and women allowed to leave the city.' On Wednesday, La Marmora +came indeed, but in the ugly form of a bombardment; and that +evening the Jenkins sat without lights about their drawing-room +window, 'watching the huge red flashes of the cannon' from the +Brigato and La Specula forts, and hearkening, not without some +awful pleasure, to the thunder of the cannonade. + +Lord Hardwicke intervened between the rebels and La Marmora; and +there followed a troubled armistice, filled with the voice of +panic. Now the VENGEANCE was known to be cleared for action; now +it was rumoured that the galley slaves were to be let loose upon +the town, and now that the troops would enter it by storm. Crowds, +trusting in the Union Jack over the Jenkins' door, came to beg them +to receive their linen and other valuables; nor could their +instances be refused; and in the midst of all this bustle and +alarm, piles of goods must be examined and long inventories made. +At last the captain decided things had gone too far. He himself +apparently remained to watch over the linen; but at five o'clock on +the Sunday morning, Aunt Anna, Fleeming, and his mother were rowed +in a pour of rain on board an English merchantman, to suffer 'nine +mortal hours of agonising suspense.' With the end of that time, +peace was restored. On Tuesday morning officers with white flags +appeared on the bastions; then, regiment by regiment, the troops +marched in, two hundred men sleeping on the ground floor of the +Jenkins' house, thirty thousand in all entering the city, but +without disturbance, old La Marmora being a commander of a Roman +sternness. + +With the return of quiet, and the reopening of the universities, we +behold a new character, Signor Flaminio: the professors, it +appears, made no attempt upon the Jenkin; and thus readily +italianised the Fleeming. He came well recommended; for their +friend Ruffini was then, or soon after, raised to be the head of +the University; and the professors were very kind and attentive, +possibly to Ruffini's PROTEGE, perhaps also to the first Protestant +student. It was no joke for Signor Flaminio at first; certificates +had to be got from Paris and from Rector Williams; the classics +must be furbished up at home that he might follow Latin lectures; +examinations bristled in the path, the entrance examination with +Latin and English essay, and oral trials (much softened for the +foreigner) in Horace, Tacitus, and Cicero, and the first University +examination only three months later, in Italian eloquence, no less, +and other wider subjects. On one point the first Protestant +student was moved to thank his stars: that there was no Greek +required for the degree. Little did he think, as he set down his +gratitude, how much, in later life and among cribs and +dictionaries, he was to lament this circumstance; nor how much of +that later life he was to spend acquiring, with infinite toil, a +shadow of what he might then have got with ease and fully. But if +his Genoese education was in this particular imperfect, he was +fortunate in the branches that more immediately touched on his +career. The physical laboratory was the best mounted in Italy. +Bancalari, the professor of natural philosophy, was famous in his +day; by what seems even an odd coincidence, he went deeply into +electromagnetism; and it was principally in that subject that +Signor Flaminio, questioned in Latin and answering in Italian, +passed his Master of Arts degree with first-class honours. That he +had secured the notice of his teachers, one circumstance +sufficiently proves. A philosophical society was started under the +presidency of Mamiani, 'one of the examiners and one of the leaders +of the Moderate party'; and out of five promising students brought +forward by the professors to attend the sittings and present +essays, Signor Flaminio was one. I cannot find that he ever read +an essay; and indeed I think his hands were otherwise too full. He +found his fellow-students 'not such a bad set of chaps,' and +preferred the Piedmontese before the Genoese; but I suspect he +mixed not very freely with either. Not only were his days filled +with university work, but his spare hours were fully dedicated to +the arts under the eye of a beloved task-mistress. He worked hard +and well in the art school, where he obtained a silver medal 'for a +couple of legs the size of life drawn from one of Raphael's +cartoons.' His holidays were spent in sketching; his evenings, +when they were free, at the theatre. Here at the opera he +discovered besides a taste for a new art, the art of music; and it +was, he wrote, 'as if he had found out a heaven on earth.' 'I am +so anxious that whatever he professes to know, he should really +perfectly possess,' his mother wrote, 'that I spare no pains'; +neither to him nor to myself, she might have added. And so when he +begged to be allowed to learn the piano, she started him with +characteristic barbarity on the scales; and heard in consequence +'heart-rending groans' and saw 'anguished claspings of hands' as he +lost his way among their arid intricacies. + +In this picture of the lad at the piano, there is something, for +the period, girlish. He was indeed his mother's boy; and it was +fortunate his mother was not altogether feminine. She gave her son +a womanly delicacy in morals, to a man's taste - to his own taste +in later life - too finely spun, and perhaps more elegant than +healthful. She encouraged him besides in drawing-room interests. +But in other points her influence was manlike. Filled with the +spirit of thoroughness, she taught him to make of the least of +these accomplishments a virile task; and the teaching lasted him +through life. Immersed as she was in the day's movements and +buzzed about by leading Liberals, she handed on to him her creed in +politics: an enduring kindness for Italy, and a loyalty, like that +of many clever women, to the Liberal party with but small regard to +men or measures. This attitude of mind used often to disappoint me +in a man so fond of logic; but I see now how it was learned from +the bright eyes of his mother and to the sound of the cannonades of +1848. To some of her defects, besides, she made him heir. Kind as +was the bond that united her to her son, kind and even pretty, she +was scarce a woman to adorn a home; loving as she did to shine; +careless as she was of domestic, studious of public graces. She +probably rejoiced to see the boy grow up in somewhat of the image +of herself, generous, excessive, enthusiastic, external; catching +at ideas, brandishing them when caught; fiery for the right, but +always fiery; ready at fifteen to correct a consul, ready at fifty +to explain to any artist his own art. + +The defects and advantages of such a training were obvious in +Fleeming throughout life. His thoroughness was not that of the +patient scholar, but of an untrained woman with fits of passionate +study; he had learned too much from dogma, given indeed by +cherished lips; and precocious as he was in the use of the tools of +the mind, he was truly backward in knowledge of life and of +himself. Such as it was at least, his home and school training was +now complete; and you are to conceive the lad as being formed in a +household of meagre revenue, among foreign surroundings, and under +the influence of an imperious drawing-room queen; from whom he +learned a great refinement of morals, a strong sense of duty, much +forwardness of bearing, all manner of studious and artistic +interests, and many ready-made opinions which he embraced with a +son's and a disciple's loyalty. + + + +CHAPTER III. 1851-1858. + + + +Return to England - Fleeming at Fairbairn's - Experience in a +Strike - Dr. Bell and Greek Architecture - The Gaskells - Fleeming +at Greenwich - The Austins - Fleeming and the Austins - His +Engagement - Fleeming and Sir W. Thomson. + + +IN 1851, the year of Aunt Anna's death, the family left Genoa and +came to Manchester, where Fleeming was entered in Fairbairn's works +as an apprentice. From the palaces and Alps, the Mole, the blue +Mediterranean, the humming lanes and the bright theatres of Genoa, +he fell - and he was sharply conscious of the fall - to the dim +skies and the foul ways of Manchester. England he found on his +return 'a horrid place,' and there is no doubt the family found it +a dear one. The story of the Jenkin finances is not easy to +follow. The family, I am told, did not practice frugality, only +lamented that it should be needful; and Mrs. Jenkin, who was always +complaining of 'those dreadful bills,' was 'always a good deal +dressed.' But at this time of the return to England, things must +have gone further. A holiday tour of a fortnight, Fleeming feared +would be beyond what he could afford, and he only projected it 'to +have a castle in the air.' And there were actual pinches. Fresh +from a warmer sun, he was obliged to go without a greatcoat, and +learned on railway journeys to supply the place of one with +wrappings of old newspaper. + +From half-past eight till six, he must 'file and chip vigorously in +a moleskin suit and infernally dirty.' The work was not new to +him, for he had already passed some time in a Genoese shop; and to +Fleeming no work was without interest. Whatever a man can do or +know, he longed to know and do also. 'I never learned anything,' +he wrote, 'not even standing on my head, but I found a use for it.' +In the spare hours of his first telegraph voyage, to give an +instance of his greed of knowledge, he meant 'to learn the whole +art of navigation, every rope in the ship and how to handle her on +any occasion'; and once when he was shown a young lady's holiday +collection of seaweeds, he must cry out, 'It showed me my eyes had +been idle.' Nor was his the case of the mere literary smatterer, +content if he but learn the names of things. In him, to do and to +do well, was even a dearer ambition than to know. Anything done +well, any craft, despatch, or finish, delighted and inspired him. +I remember him with a twopenny Japanese box of three drawers, so +exactly fitted that, when one was driven home, the others started +from their places; the whole spirit of Japan, he told me, was +pictured in that box; that plain piece of carpentry was as much +inspired by the spirit of perfection as the happiest drawing or the +finest bronze; and he who could not enjoy it in the one was not +fully able to enjoy it in the others. Thus, too, he found in +Leonardo's engineering and anatomical drawings a perpetual feast; +and of the former he spoke even with emotion. Nothing indeed +annoyed Fleeming more than the attempt to separate the fine arts +from the arts of handicraft; any definition or theory that failed +to bring these two together, according to him, had missed the +point; and the essence of the pleasure received lay in seeing +things well done. Other qualities must be added; he was the last +to deny that; but this, of perfect craft, was at the bottom of all. +And on the other hand, a nail ill-driven, a joint ill-fitted, a +tracing clumsily done, anything to which a man had set his hand and +not set it aptly, moved him to shame and anger. With such a +character, he would feel but little drudgery at Fairbairn's. There +would be something daily to be done, slovenliness to be avoided, +and a higher mark of skill to be attained; he would chip and file, +as he had practiced scales, impatient of his own imperfection, but +resolute to learn. + +And there was another spring of delight. For he was now moving +daily among those strange creations of man's brain, to some so +abhorrent, to him of an interest so inexhaustible: in which iron, +water, and fire are made to serve as slaves, now with a tread more +powerful than an elephant's, and now with a touch more precise and +dainty than a pianist's. The taste for machinery was one that I +could never share with him, and he had a certain bitter pity for my +weakness. Once when I had proved, for the hundredth time, the +depth of this defect, he looked at me askance. 'And the best of +the joke,' said he, 'is that he thinks himself quite a poet.' For +to him the struggle of the engineer against brute forces and with +inert allies, was nobly poetic. Habit never dulled in him the +sense of the greatness of the aims and obstacles of his profession. +Habit only sharpened his inventor's gusto in contrivance, in +triumphant artifice, in the Odyssean subtleties, by which wires are +taught to speak, and iron hands to weave, and the slender ship to +brave and to outstrip the tempest. To the ignorant the great +results alone are admirable; to the knowing, and to Fleeming in +particular, rather the infinite device and sleight of hand that +made them possible. + +A notion was current at the time that, in such a shop as +Fairbairn's, a pupil would never be popular unless he drank with +the workmen and imitated them in speech and manner. Fleeming, who +would do none of these things, they accepted as a friend and +companion; and this was the subject of remark in Manchester, where +some memory of it lingers till to-day. He thought it one of the +advantages of his profession to be brought into a close relation +with the working classes; and for the skilled artisan he had a +great esteem, liking his company, his virtues, and his taste in +some of the arts. But he knew the classes too well to regard them, +like a platform speaker, in a lump. He drew, on the other hand, +broad distinctions; and it was his profound sense of the difference +between one working man and another that led him to devote so much +time, in later days, to the furtherance of technical education. In +1852 he had occasion to see both men and masters at their worst, in +the excitement of a strike; and very foolishly (after their custom) +both would seem to have behaved. Beginning with a fair show of +justice on either side, the masters stultified their cause by +obstinate impolicy, and the men disgraced their order by acts of +outrage. 'On Wednesday last,' writes Fleeming, 'about three +thousand banded round Fairbairn's door at 6 o'clock: men, women, +and children, factory boys and girls, the lowest of the low in a +very low place. Orders came that no one was to leave the works; +but the men inside (Knobsticks, as they are called) were precious +hungry and thought they would venture. Two of my companions and +myself went out with the very first, and had the full benefit of +every possible groan and bad language.' But the police cleared a +lane through the crowd, the pupils were suffered to escape unhurt, +and only the Knobsticks followed home and kicked with clogs; so +that Fleeming enjoyed, as we may say, for nothing, that fine thrill +of expectant valour with which he had sallied forth into the mob. +'I never before felt myself so decidedly somebody, instead of +nobody,' he wrote. + +Outside as inside the works, he was 'pretty merry and well to do,' +zealous in study, welcome to many friends, unwearied in loving- +kindness to his mother. For some time he spent three nights a week +with Dr. Bell, 'working away at certain geometrical methods of +getting the Greek architectural proportions': a business after +Fleeming's heart, for he was never so pleased as when he could +marry his two devotions, art and science. This was besides, in all +likelihood, the beginning of that love and intimate appreciation of +things Greek, from the least to the greatest, from the AGAMEMMON +(perhaps his favourite tragedy) down to the details of Grecian +tailoring, which he used to express in his familiar phrase: 'The +Greeks were the boys.' Dr. Bell - the son of George Joseph, the +nephew of Sir Charles, and though he made less use of it than some, +a sharer in the distinguished talents of his race - had hit upon +the singular fact that certain geometrical intersections gave the +proportions of the Doric order. Fleeming, under Dr. Bell's +direction, applied the same method to the other orders, and again +found the proportions accurately given. Numbers of diagrams were +prepared; but the discovery was never given to the world, perhaps +because of the dissensions that arose between the authors. For Dr. +Bell believed that 'these intersections were in some way connected +with, or symbolical of, the antagonistic forces at work'; but his +pupil and helper, with characteristic trenchancy, brushed aside +this mysticism, and interpreted the discovery as 'a geometrical +method of dividing the spaces or (as might be said) of setting out +the work, purely empirical and in no way connected with any laws of +either force or beauty.' 'Many a hard and pleasant fight we had +over it,' wrote Jenkin, in later years; 'and impertinent as it may +seem, the pupil is still unconvinced by the arguments of the +master.' I do not know about the antagonistic forces in the Doric +order; in Fleeming they were plain enough; and the Bobadil of these +affairs with Dr. Bell was still, like the corrector of Italian +consuls, 'a great child in everything but information.' At the +house of Colonel Cleather, he might be seen with a family of +children; and with these, there was no word of the Greek orders; +with these Fleeming was only an uproarious boy and an entertaining +draughtsman; so that his coming was the signal for the young people +to troop into the playroom, where sometimes the roof rang with +romping, and sometimes they gathered quietly about him as he amused +them with his pencil. + +In another Manchester family, whose name will be familiar to my +readers - that of the Gaskells, Fleeming was a frequent visitor. +To Mrs. Gaskell, he would often bring his new ideas, a process that +many of his later friends will understand and, in their own cases, +remember. With the girls, he had 'constant fierce wrangles,' +forcing them to reason out their thoughts and to explain their +prepossessions; and I hear from Miss Gaskell that they used to +wonder how he could throw all the ardour of his character into the +smallest matters, and to admire his unselfish devotion to his +parents. Of one of these wrangles, I have found a record most +characteristic of the man. Fleeming had been laying down his +doctrine that the end justifies the means, and that it is quite +right 'to boast of your six men-servants to a burglar or to steal a +knife to prevent a murder'; and the Miss Gaskells, with girlish +loyalty to what is current, had rejected the heresy with +indignation. From such passages-at-arms, many retire mortified and +ruffled; but Fleeming had no sooner left the house than he fell +into delighted admiration of the spirit of his adversaries. From +that it was but a step to ask himself 'what truth was sticking in +their heads'; for even the falsest form of words (in Fleeming's +life-long opinion) reposed upon some truth, just as he could 'not +even allow that people admire ugly things, they admire what is +pretty in the ugly thing.' And before he sat down to write his +letter, he thought he had hit upon the explanation. 'I fancy the +true idea,' he wrote, 'is that you must never do yourself or anyone +else a moral injury - make any man a thief or a liar - for any +end'; quite a different thing, as he would have loved to point out, +from never stealing or lying. But this perfervid disputant was not +always out of key with his audience. One whom he met in the same +house announced that she would never again be happy. 'What does +that signify?' cried Fleeming. 'We are not here to be happy, but +to be good.' And the words (as his hearer writes to me) became to +her a sort of motto during life. + +From Fairbairn's and Manchester, Fleeming passed to a railway +survey in Switzerland, and thence again to Mr. Penn's at Greenwich, +where he was engaged as draughtsman. There in 1856, we find him in +'a terribly busy state, finishing up engines for innumerable gun- +boats and steam frigates for the ensuing campaign.' From half-past +eight in the morning till nine or ten at night, he worked in a +crowded office among uncongenial comrades, 'saluted by chaff, +generally low personal and not witty,' pelted with oranges and +apples, regaled with dirty stories, and seeking to suit himself +with his surroundings or (as he writes it) trying to be as little +like himself as possible. His lodgings were hard by, 'across a +dirty green and through some half-built streets of two-storied +houses'; he had Carlyle and the poets, engineering and mathematics, +to study by himself in such spare time as remained to him; and +there were several ladies, young and not so young, with whom he +liked to correspond. But not all of these could compensate for the +absence of that mother, who had made herself so large a figure in +his life, for sorry surroundings, unsuitable society, and work that +leaned to the mechanical. 'Sunday,' says he, 'I generally visit +some friends in town and seem to swim in clearer water, but the +dirty green seems all the dirtier when I get back. Luckily I am +fond of my profession, or I could not stand this life.' It is a +question in my mind, if he could have long continued to stand it +without loss. 'We are not here to be happy, but to be good,' quoth +the young philosopher; but no man had a keener appetite for +happiness than Fleeming Jenkin. There is a time of life besides +when apart from circumstances, few men are agreeable to their +neighbours and still fewer to themselves; and it was at this stage +that Fleeming had arrived, later than common and even worse +provided. The letter from which I have quoted is the last of his +correspondence with Frank Scott, and his last confidential letter +to one of his own sex. 'If you consider it rightly,' he wrote long +after, 'you will find the want of correspondence no such strange +want in men's friendships. There is, believe me, something noble +in the metal which does not rust though not burnished by daily +use.' It is well said; but the last letter to Frank Scott is +scarcely of a noble metal. It is plain the writer has outgrown his +old self, yet not made acquaintance with the new. This letter from +a busy youth of three and twenty, breathes of seventeen: the +sickening alternations of conceit and shame, the expense of hope IN +VACUO, the lack of friends, the longing after love; the whole world +of egoism under which youth stands groaning, a voluntary Atlas. + +With Fleeming this disease was never seemingly severe. The very +day before this (to me) distasteful letter, he had written to Miss +Bell of Manchester in a sweeter strain; I do not quote the one, I +quote the other; fair things are the best. 'I keep my own little +lodgings,' he writes, 'but come up every night to see mamma' (who +was then on a visit to London) 'if not kept too late at the works; +and have singing lessons once more, and sing "DONNE L'AMORE E +SCALTRO PARGO-LETTO"; and think and talk about you; and listen to +mamma's projects DE Stowting. Everything turns to gold at her +touch, she's a fairy and no mistake. We go on talking till I have +a picture in my head, and can hardly believe at the end that the +original is Stowting. Even you don't know half how good mamma is; +in other things too, which I must not mention. She teaches me how +it is not necessary to be very rich to do much good. I begin to +understand that mamma would find useful occupation and create +beauty at the bottom of a volcano. She has little weaknesses, but +is a real generous-hearted woman, which I suppose is the finest +thing in the world.' Though neither mother nor son could be called +beautiful, they make a pretty picture; the ugly, generous, ardent +woman weaving rainbow illusions; the ugly, clear-sighted, loving +son sitting at her side in one of his rare hours of pleasure, half- +beguiled, half-amused, wholly admiring, as he listens. But as he +goes home, and the fancy pictures fade, and Stowting is once more +burthened with debt, and the noisy companions and the long hours of +drudgery once more approach, no wonder if the dirty green seems all +the dirtier or if Atlas must resume his load. + +But in healthy natures, this time of moral teething passes quickly +of itself, and is easily alleviated by fresh interests; and +already, in the letter to Frank Scott, there are two words of hope: +his friends in London, his love for his profession. The last might +have saved him; for he was ere long to pass into a new sphere, +where all his faculties were to be tried and exercised, and his +life to be filled with interest and effort. But it was not left to +engineering: another and more influential aim was to be set before +him. He must, in any case, have fallen in love; in any case, his +love would have ruled his life; and the question of choice was, for +the descendant of two such families, a thing of paramount +importance. Innocent of the world, fiery, generous, devoted as he +was, the son of the wild Jacksons and the facile Jenkins might have +been led far astray. By one of those partialities that fill men at +once with gratitude and wonder, his choosing was directed well. Or +are we to say that by a man's choice in marriage, as by a crucial +merit, he deserves his fortune? One thing at least reason may +discern: that a man but partly chooses, he also partly forms, his +help-mate; and he must in part deserve her, or the treasure is but +won for a moment to be lost. Fleeming chanced if you will (and +indeed all these opportunities are as 'random as blind man's buff') +upon a wife who was worthy of him; but he had the wit to know it, +the courage to wait and labour for his prize, and the tenderness +and chivalry that are required to keep such prizes precious. Upon +this point he has himself written well, as usual with fervent +optimism, but as usual (in his own phrase) with a truth sticking in +his head. + +'Love,' he wrote, 'is not an intuition of the person most suitable +to us, most required by us; of the person with whom life flowers +and bears fruit. If this were so, the chances of our meeting that +person would be small indeed; our intuition would often fail; the +blindness of love would then be fatal as it is proverbial. No, +love works differently, and in its blindness lies its strength. +Man and woman, each strongly desires to be loved, each opens to the +other that heart of ideal aspirations which they have often hid +till then; each, thus knowing the ideal of the other, tries to +fulfil that ideal, each partially succeeds. The greater the love, +the greater the success; the nobler the idea of each, the more +durable, the more beautiful the effect. Meanwhile the blindness of +each to the other's defects enables the transformation to proceed +[unobserved,] so that when the veil is withdrawn (if it ever is, +and this I do not know) neither knows that any change has occurred +in the person whom they loved. Do not fear, therefore. I do not +tell you that your friend will not change, but as I am sure that +her choice cannot be that of a man with a base ideal, so I am sure +the change will be a safe and a good one. Do not fear that +anything you love will vanish, he must love it too.' + +Among other introductions in London, Fleeming had presented a +letter from Mrs. Gaskell to the Alfred Austins. This was a family +certain to interest a thoughtful young man. Alfred, the youngest +and least known of the Austins, had been a beautiful golden-haired +child, petted and kept out of the way of both sport and study by a +partial mother. Bred an attorney, he had (like both his brothers) +changed his way of life, and was called to the bar when past +thirty. A Commission of Enquiry into the state of the poor in +Dorsetshire gave him an opportunity of proving his true talents; +and he was appointed a Poor Law Inspector, first at Worcester, next +at Manchester, where he had to deal with the potato famine and the +Irish immigration of the 'forties, and finally in London, where he +again distinguished himself during an epidemic of cholera. He was +then advanced to the Permanent Secretaryship of Her Majesty's +Office of Works and Public Buildings; a position which he filled +with perfect competence, but with an extreme of modesty; and on his +retirement, in 1868, he was made a Companion of the Bath. While +apprentice to a Norwich attorney, Alfred Austin was a frequent +visitor in the house of Mr. Barron, a rallying place in those days +of intellectual society. Edward Barron, the son of a rich saddler +or leather merchant in the Borough, was a man typical of the time. +When he was a child, he had once been patted on the head in his +father's shop by no less a man than Samuel Johnson, as the Doctor +went round the Borough canvassing for Mr. Thrale; and the child was +true to this early consecration. 'A life of lettered ease spent in +provincial retirement,' it is thus that the biographer of that +remarkable man, William Taylor, announces his subject; and the +phrase is equally descriptive of the life of Edward Barron. The +pair were close friends, 'W. T. and a pipe render everything +agreeable,' writes Barron in his diary in 1823; and in 1833, after +Barron had moved to London and Taylor had tasted the first public +failure of his powers, the latter wrote: 'To my ever dearest Mr. +Barron say, if you please, that I miss him more than I regret him - +that I acquiesce in his retirement from Norwich, because I could +ill brook his observation of my increasing debility of mind.' This +chosen companion of William Taylor must himself have been no +ordinary man; and he was the friend besides of Borrow, whom I find +him helping in his Latin. But he had no desire for popular +distinction, lived privately, married a daughter of Dr. Enfield of +Enfield's SPEAKER, and devoted his time to the education of his +family, in a deliberate and scholarly fashion, and with certain +traits of stoicism, that would surprise a modern. From these +children we must single out his youngest daughter, Eliza, who +learned under his care to be a sound Latin, an elegant Grecian, and +to suppress emotion without outward sign after the manner of the +Godwin school. This was the more notable, as the girl really +derived from the Enfields; whose high-flown romantic temper, I wish +I could find space to illustrate. She was but seven years old, +when Alfred Austin remarked and fell in love with her; and the +union thus early prepared was singularly full. Where the husband +and wife differed, and they did so on momentous subjects, they +differed with perfect temper and content; and in the conduct of +life, and in depth and durability of love, they were at one. Each +full of high spirits, each practised something of the same +repression: no sharp word was uttered in their house. The same +point of honour ruled them, a guest was sacred and stood within the +pale from criticism. It was a house, besides, of unusual +intellectual tension. Mrs. Austin remembered, in the early days of +the marriage, the three brothers, John, Charles, and Alfred, +marching to and fro, each with his hands behind his back, and +'reasoning high' till morning; and how, like Dr. Johnson, they +would cheer their speculations with as many as fifteen cups of tea. +And though, before the date of Fleeming's visit, the brothers were +separated, Charles long ago retired from the world at Brandeston, +and John already near his end in the 'rambling old house' at +Weybridge, Alfred Austin and his wife were still a centre of much +intellectual society, and still, as indeed they remained until the +last, youthfully alert in mind. There was but one child of the +marriage, Anne, and she was herself something new for the eyes of +the young visitor; brought up, as she had been, like her mother +before her, to the standard of a man's acquirements. Only one art +had she been denied, she must not learn the violin - the thought +was too monstrous even for the Austins; and indeed it would seem as +if that tide of reform which we may date from the days of Mary +Wollstonecraft had in some degree even receded; for though Miss +Austin was suffered to learn Greek, the accomplishment was kept +secret like a piece of guilt. But whether this stealth was caused +by a backward movement in public thought since the time of Edward +Barron, or by the change from enlightened Norwich to barbarian +London, I have no means of judging. + +When Fleeming presented his letter, he fell in love at first sight +with Mrs. Austin and the life, and atmosphere of the house. There +was in the society of the Austins, outward, stoical conformers to +the world, something gravely suggestive of essential eccentricity, +something unpretentiously breathing of intellectual effort, that +could not fail to hit the fancy of this hot-brained boy. The +unbroken enamel of courtesy, the self-restraint, the dignified +kindness of these married folk, had besides a particular attraction +for their visitor. He could not but compare what he saw, with what +he knew of his mother and himself. Whatever virtues Fleeming +possessed, he could never count on being civil; whatever brave, +true-hearted qualities he was able to admire in Mrs. Jenkin, +mildness of demeanour was not one of them. And here he found per +sons who were the equals of his mother and himself in intellect and +width of interest, and the equals of his father in mild urbanity of +disposition. Show Fleeming an active virtue, and he always loved +it. He went away from that house struck through with admiration, +and vowing to himself that his own married life should be upon that +pattern, his wife (whoever she might be) like Eliza Barron, himself +such another husband as Alfred Austin. What is more strange, he +not only brought away, but left behind him, golden opinions. He +must have been - he was, I am told - a trying lad; but there shone +out of him such a light of innocent candour, enthusiasm, +intelligence, and appreciation, that to persons already some way +forward in years, and thus able to enjoy indulgently the perennial +comedy of youth, the sight of him was delightful. By a pleasant +coincidence, there was one person in the house whom he did not +appreciate and who did not appreciate him: Anne Austin, his future +wife. His boyish vanity ruffled her; his appearance, never +impressive, was then, by reason of obtrusive boyishness, still less +so; she found occasion to put him in the wrong by correcting a +false quantity; and when Mr. Austin, after doing his visitor the +almost unheard-of honour of accompanying him to the door, announced +'That was what young men were like in my time' - she could only +reply, looking on her handsome father, 'I thought they had been +better looking.' + +This first visit to the Austins took place in 1855; and it seems it +was some time before Fleeming began to know his mind; and yet +longer ere he ventured to show it. The corrected quantity, to +those who knew him well, will seem to have played its part; he was +the man always to reflect over a correction and to admire the +castigator. And fall in love he did; not hurriedly but step by +step, not blindly but with critical discrimination; not in the +fashion of Romeo, but before he was done, with all Romeo's ardour +and more than Romeo's faith. The high favour to which he presently +rose in the esteem of Alfred Austin and his wife, might well give +him ambitious notions; but the poverty of the present and the +obscurity of the future were there to give him pause; and when his +aspirations began to settle round Miss Austin, he tasted, perhaps +for the only time in his life, the pangs of diffidence. There was +indeed opening before him a wide door of hope. He had changed into +the service of Messrs. Liddell & Gordon; these gentlemen had begun +to dabble in the new field of marine telegraphy; and Fleeming was +already face to face with his life's work. That impotent sense of +his own value, as of a ship aground, which makes one of the agonies +of youth, began to fall from him. New problems which he was +endowed to solve, vistas of new enquiry which he was fitted to +explore, opened before him continually. His gifts had found their +avenue and goal. And with this pleasure of effective exercise, +there must have sprung up at once the hope of what is called by the +world success. But from these low beginnings, it was a far look +upward to Miss Austin: the favour of the loved one seems always +more than problematical to any lover; the consent of parents must +be always more than doubtful to a young man with a small salary and +no capital except capacity and hope. But Fleeming was not the lad +to lose any good thing for the lack of trial; and at length, in the +autumn of 1857, this boyish-sized, boyish-mannered, and +superlatively ill-dressed young engineer, entered the house of the +Austins, with such sinkings as we may fancy, and asked leave to pay +his addresses to the daughter. Mrs. Austin already loved him like +a son, she was but too glad to give him her consent; Mr. Austin +reserved the right to inquire into his character; from neither was +there a word about his prospects, by neither was his income +mentioned. 'Are these people,' he wrote, struck with wonder at +this dignified disinterestedness, 'are these people the same as +other people?' It was not till he was armed with this permission, +that Miss Austin even suspected the nature of his hopes: so +strong, in this unmannerly boy, was the principle of true courtesy; +so powerful, in this impetuous nature, the springs of self- +repression. And yet a boy he was; a boy in heart and mind; and it +was with a boy's chivalry and frankness that he won his wife. His +conduct was a model of honour, hardly of tact; to conceal love from +the loved one, to court her parents, to be silent and discreet till +these are won, and then without preparation to approach the lady - +these are not arts that I would recommend for imitation. They lead +to final refusal. Nothing saved Fleeming from that fate, but one +circumstance that cannot be counted upon - the hearty favour of the +mother, and one gift that is inimitable and that never failed him +throughout life, the gift of a nature essentially noble and +outspoken. A happy and high-minded anger flashed through his +despair: it won for him his wife. + +Nearly two years passed before it was possible to marry: two years +of activity, now in London; now at Birkenhead, fitting out ships, +inventing new machinery for new purposes, and dipping into +electrical experiment; now in the ELBA on his first telegraph +cruise between Sardinia and Algiers: a busy and delightful period +of bounding ardour, incessant toil, growing hope and fresh +interests, with behind and through all, the image of his beloved. +A few extracts from his correspondence with his betrothed will give +the note of these truly joyous years. 'My profession gives me all +the excitement and interest I ever hope for, but the sorry jade is +obviously jealous of you.' - '"Poor Fleeming," in spite of wet, +cold and wind, clambering over moist, tarry slips, wandering among +pools of slush in waste places inhabited by wandering locomotives, +grows visibly stronger, has dismissed his office cough and cured +his toothache.' - 'The whole of the paying out and lifting +machinery must be designed and ordered in two or three days, and I +am half crazy with work. I like it though: it's like a good ball, +the excitement carries you through.' - 'I was running to and from +the ships and warehouse through fierce gusts of rain and wind till +near eleven, and you cannot think what a pleasure it was to be +blown about and think of you in your pretty dress.' - 'I am at the +works till ten and sometimes till eleven. But I have a nice office +to sit in, with a fire to myself, and bright brass scientific +instruments all round me, and books to read, and experiments to +make, and enjoy myself amazingly. I find the study of electricity +so entertaining that I am apt to neglect my other work.' And for a +last taste, 'Yesterday I had some charming electrical experiments. +What shall I compare them to - a new song? a Greek play?' + +It was at this time besides that he made the acquaintance of +Professor, now Sir William, Thomson. To describe the part played +by these two in each other's lives would lie out of my way. They +worked together on the Committee on Electrical Standards; they +served together at the laying down or the repair of many deep-sea +cables; and Sir William was regarded by Fleeming, not only with the +'worship' (the word is his own) due to great scientific gifts, but +with an ardour of personal friendship not frequently excelled. To +their association, Fleeming brought the valuable element of a +practical understanding; but he never thought or spoke of himself +where Sir William was in question; and I recall quite in his last +days, a singular instance of this modest loyalty to one whom he +admired and loved. He drew up a paper, in a quite personal +interest, of his own services; yet even here he must step out of +his way, he must add, where it had no claim to be added, his +opinion that, in their joint work, the contributions of Sir William +had been always greatly the most valuable. Again, I shall not +readily forget with what emotion he once told me an incident of +their associated travels. On one of the mountain ledges of +Madeira, Fleeming's pony bolted between Sir William. and the +precipice above; by strange good fortune and thanks to the +steadiness of Sir William's horse, no harm was done; but for the +moment, Fleeming saw his friend hurled into the sea, and almost by +his own act: it was a memory that haunted him. + + + +CHAPTER IV. 1859-1868. + + + +Fleeming's Marriage - His Married Life - Professional Difficulties +- Life at Claygate - Illness of Mrs. F. Jenkin; and of Fleeming - +Appointment to the Chair at Edinburgh. + + +ON Saturday, Feb. 26, 1859, profiting by a holiday of four days, +Fleeming was married to Miss Austin at Northiam: a place connected +not only with his own family but with that of his bride as well. +By Tuesday morning, he was at work again, fitting out cableships at +Birkenhead. Of the walk from his lodgings to the works, I find a +graphic sketch in one of his letters: 'Out over the railway +bridge, along a wide road raised to the level of a ground floor +above the land, which, not being built upon, harbours puddles, +ponds, pigs, and Irish hovels; - so to the dock warehouses, four +huge piles of building with no windows, surrounded by a wall about +twelve feet high - in through the large gates, round which hang +twenty or thirty rusty Irish, playing pitch and toss and waiting +for employment; - on along the railway, which came in at the same +gates and which branches down between each vast block - past a +pilot-engine butting refractory trucks into their places - on to +the last block, [and] down the branch, sniffing the guano-scented +air and detecting the old bones. The hartshorn flavour of the +guano becomes very strong, as I near the docks where, across the +ELBA'S decks, a huge vessel is discharging her cargo of the brown +dust, and where huge vessels have been discharging that same cargo +for the last five months.' This was the walk he took his young +wife on the morrow of his return. She had been used to the society +of lawyers and civil servants, moving in that circle which seems to +itself the pivot of the nation and is in truth only a clique like +another; and Fleeming was to her the nameless assistant of a +nameless firm of engineers, doing his inglorious business, as she +now saw for herself, among unsavoury surroundings. But when their +walk brought them within view of the river, she beheld a sight to +her of the most novel beauty: four great, sea-going ships dressed +out with flags. 'How lovely!' she cried. 'What is it for?' - 'For +you,' said Fleeming. Her surprise was only equalled by her +pleasure. But perhaps, for what we may call private fame, there is +no life like that of the engineer; who is a great man in out-of- +the-way places, by the dockside or on the desert island or in +populous ships, and remains quite unheard of in the coteries of +London. And Fleeming had already made his mark among the few who +had an opportunity of knowing him. + +His marriage was the one decisive incident of his career; from that +moment until the day of his death, he had one thought to which all +the rest were tributary, the thought of his wife. No one could +know him even slightly, and not remark the absorbing greatness of +that sentiment; nor can any picture of the man be drawn that does +not in proportion dwell upon it. This is a delicate task; but if +we are to leave behind us (as we wish) some presentment of the +friend we have lost, it is a task that must be undertaken. + +For all his play of mind and fancy, for all his indulgence - and, +as time went on, he grew indulgent - Fleeming had views of duty +that were even stern. He was too shrewd a student of his fellow- +men to remain long content with rigid formulae of conduct. Iron- +bound, impersonal ethics, the procrustean bed of rules, he soon saw +at their true value as the deification of averages. 'As to Miss (I +declare I forget her name) being bad,' I find him writing, 'people +only mean that she has broken the Decalogue - which is not at all +the same thing. People who have kept in the high-road of Life +really have less opportunity for taking a comprehensive view of it +than those who have leaped over the hedges and strayed up the +hills; not but what the hedges are very necessary, and our stray +travellers often have a weary time of it. So, you may say, have +those in the dusty roads.' Yet he was himself a very stern +respecter of the hedgerows; sought safety and found dignity in the +obvious path of conduct; and would palter with no simple and +recognised duty of his epoch. Of marriage in particular, of the +bond so formed, of the obligations incurred, of the debt men owe to +their children, he conceived in a truly antique spirit: not to +blame others, but to constrain himself. It was not to blame, I +repeat, that he held these views; for others, he could make a large +allowance; and yet he tacitly expected of his friends and his wife +a high standard of behaviour. Nor was it always easy to wear the +armour of that ideal. + +Acting upon these beliefs; conceiving that he had indeed 'given +himself' (in the full meaning of these words) for better, for +worse; painfully alive to his defects of temper and deficiency in +charm; resolute to make up for these; thinking last of himself: +Fleeming was in some ways the very man to have made a noble, uphill +fight of an unfortunate marriage. In other ways, it is true he was +one of the most unfit for such a trial. And it was his beautiful +destiny to remain to the last hour the same absolute and romantic +lover, who had shown to his new bride the flag-draped vessels in +the Mersey. No fate is altogether easy; but trials are our +touchstone, trials overcome our reward; and it was given to +Fleeming to conquer. It was given to him to live for another, not +as a task, but till the end as an enchanting pleasure. 'People may +write novels,' he wrote in 1869, 'and other people may write poems, +but not a man or woman among them can write to say how happy a man +may be, who is desperately in love with his wife after ten years of +marriage.' And again in 1885, after more than twenty-six years of +marriage, and within but five weeks of his death: 'Your first +letter from Bournemouth,' he wrote, 'gives me heavenly pleasure - +for which I thank Heaven and you too - who are my heaven on earth.' +The mind hesitates whether to say that such a man has been more +good or more fortunate. + +Any woman (it is the defect of her sex) comes sooner to the stable +mind of maturity than any man; and Jenkin was to the end of a most +deliberate growth. In the next chapter, when I come to deal with +his telegraphic voyages and give some taste of his correspondence, +the reader will still find him at twenty-five an arrant school-boy. +His wife besides was more thoroughly educated than he. In many +ways she was able to teach him, and he proud to be taught; in many +ways she outshone him, and he delighted to be outshone. All these +superiorities, and others that, after the manner of lovers, he no +doubt forged for himself, added as time went on to the humility of +his original love. Only once, in all I know of his career, did he +show a touch of smallness. He could not learn to sing correctly; +his wife told him so and desisted from her lessons; and the +mortification was so sharply felt that for years he could not be +induced to go to a concert, instanced himself as a typical man +without an ear, and never sang again. I tell it; for the fact that +this stood singular in his behaviour, and really amazed all who +knew him, is the happiest way I can imagine to commend the tenor of +his simplicity; and because it illustrates his feeling for his +wife. Others were always welcome to laugh at him; if it amused +them, or if it amused him, he would proceed undisturbed with his +occupation, his vanity invulnerable. With his wife it was +different: his wife had laughed at his singing; and for twenty +years the fibre ached. Nothing, again, was more notable than the +formal chivalry of this unmannered man to the person on earth with +whom he was the most familiar. He was conscious of his own innate +and often rasping vivacity and roughness and he was never forgetful +of his first visit to the Austins and the vow he had registered on +his return. There was thus an artificial element in his punctilio +that at times might almost raise a smile. But it stood on noble +grounds; for this was how he sought to shelter from his own +petulance the woman who was to him the symbol of the household and +to the end the beloved of his youth. + +I wish in this chapter to chronicle small beer; taking a hasty +glance at some ten years of married life and of professional +struggle; and reserving till the next all the more interesting +matter of his cruises. Of his achievements and their worth, it is +not for me to speak: his friend and partner, Sir William Thomson, +has contributed a note on the subject, which will be found in the +Appendix, and to which I must refer the reader. He is to conceive +in the meanwhile for himself Fleeming's manifold engagements: his +service on the Committee on Electrical Standards, his lectures on +electricity at Chatham, his chair at the London University, his +partnership with Sir William Thomson and Mr. Varley in many +ingenious patents, his growing credit with engineers and men of +science; and he is to bear in mind that of all this activity and +acquist of reputation, the immediate profit was scanty. Soon after +his marriage, Fleeming had left the service of Messrs. Liddell & +Gordon, and entered into a general engineering partnership with +Mr. Forde, a gentleman in a good way of business. It was a +fortunate partnership in this, that the parties retained their +mutual respect unlessened and separated with regret; but men's +affairs, like men, have their times of sickness, and by one of +these unaccountable variations, for hard upon ten years the +business was disappointing and the profits meagre. 'Inditing +drafts of German railways which will never get made': it is thus I +find Fleeming, not without a touch of bitterness, describe his +occupation. Even the patents hung fire at first. There was no +salary to rely on; children were coming and growing up; the +prospect was often anxious. In the days of his courtship, Fleeming +had written to Miss Austin a dissuasive picture of the trials of +poverty, assuring her these were no figments but truly bitter to +support; he told her this, he wrote, beforehand, so that when the +pinch came and she suffered, she should not be disappointed in +herself nor tempted to doubt her own magnanimity: a letter of +admirable wisdom and solicitude. But now that the trouble came, he +bore it very lightly. It was his principle, as he once prettily +expressed it, 'to enjoy each day's happiness, as it arises, like +birds or children.' His optimism, if driven out at the door, would +come in again by the window; if it found nothing but blackness in +the present, would hit upon some ground of consolation in the +future or the past. And his courage and energy were indefatigable. +In the year 1863, soon after the birth of their first son, they +moved into a cottage at Claygate near Esher; and about this time, +under manifold troubles both of money and health, I find him +writing from abroad: 'The country will give us, please God, health +and strength. I will love and cherish you more than ever, you +shall go where you wish, you shall receive whom you wish - and as +for money you shall have that too. I cannot be mistaken. I have +now measured myself with many men. I do not feel weak, I do not +feel that I shall fail. In many things I have succeeded, and I +will in this. And meanwhile the time of waiting, which, please +Heaven, shall not be long, shall also not be so bitter. Well, +well, I promise much, and do not know at this moment how you and +the dear child are. If he is but better, courage, my girl, for I +see light.' + +This cottage at Claygate stood just without the village, well +surrounded with trees and commanding a pleasant view. A piece of +the garden was turfed over to form a croquet green, and Fleeming +became (I need scarce say) a very ardent player. He grew ardent, +too, in gardening. This he took up at first to please his wife, +having no natural inclination; but he had no sooner set his hand to +it, than, like everything else he touched, it became with him a +passion. He budded roses, he potted cuttings in the coach-house; +if there came a change of weather at night, he would rise out of +bed to protect his favourites; when he was thrown with a dull +companion, it was enough for him to discover in the man a fellow +gardener; on his travels, he would go out of his way to visit +nurseries and gather hints; and to the end of his life, after other +occupations prevented him putting his own hand to the spade, he +drew up a yearly programme for his gardener, in which all details +were regulated. He had begun by this time to write. His paper on +Darwin, which had the merit of convincing on one point the +philosopher himself, had indeed been written before this in London +lodgings; but his pen was not idle at Claygate; and it was here he +wrote (among other things) that review of 'FECUNDITY, FERTILITY, +STERILITY, AND ALLIED TOPICS,' which Dr. Matthews Duncan prefixed +by way of introduction to the second edition of the work. The mere +act of writing seems to cheer the vanity of the most incompetent; +but a correction accepted by Darwin, and a whole review borrowed +and reprinted by Matthews Duncan are compliments of a rare strain, +and to a man still unsuccessful must have been precious indeed. +There was yet a third of the same kind in store for him; and when +Munro himself owned that he had found instruction in the paper on +Lucretius, we may say that Fleeming had been crowned in the capitol +of reviewing. + +Croquet, charades, Christmas magic lanterns for the village +children, an amateur concert or a review article in the evening; +plenty of hard work by day; regular visits to meetings of the +British Association, from one of which I find him +characteristically writing: 'I cannot say that I have had any +amusement yet, but I am enjoying the dulness and dry bustle of the +whole thing'; occasional visits abroad on business, when he would +find the time to glean (as I have said) gardening hints for +himself, and old folk-songs or new fashions of dress for his wife; +and the continual study and care of his children: these were the +chief elements of his life. Nor were friends wanting. Captain and +Mrs. Jenkin, Mr. and Mrs. Austin, Clerk Maxwell, Miss Bell of +Manchester, and others came to them on visits. Mr. Hertslet of the +Foreign Office, his wife and his daughter, were neighbours and +proved kind friends; in 1867 the Howitts came to Claygate and +sought the society of 'the two bright, clever young people'; and in +a house close by, Mr. Frederick Ricketts came to live with his +family. Mr. Ricketts was a valued friend during his short life; +and when he was lost with every circumstance of heroism in the LA +PLATA, Fleeming mourned him sincerely. + +I think I shall give the best idea of Fleeming in this time of his +early married life, by a few sustained extracts from his letters to +his wife, while she was absent on a visit in 1864. + +'NOV. 11. - Sunday was too wet to walk to Isleworth, for which I +was sorry, so I staid and went to Church and thought of you at +Ardwick all through the Commandments, and heard Dr. - expound in a +remarkable way a prophecy of St. Paul's about Roman Catholics, +which MUTATIS MUTANDIS would do very well for Protestants in some +parts. Then I made a little nursery of Borecole and Enfield market +cabbage, grubbing in wet earth with leggings and gray coat on. +Then I tidied up the coach-house to my own and Christine's +admiration. Then encouraged by BOUTS-RIMES I wrote you a copy of +verses; high time I think; I shall just save my tenth year of +knowing my lady-love without inditing poetry or rhymes to her. + +'Then I rummaged over the box with my father's letters and found +interesting notes from myself. One I should say my first letter, +which little Austin I should say would rejoice to see and shall see +- with a drawing of a cottage and a spirited "cob." What was more +to the purpose, I found with it a paste-cutter which Mary begged +humbly for Christine and I generously gave this morning. + +'Then I read some of Congreve. There are admirable scenes in the +manner of Sheridan; all wit and no character, or rather one +character in a great variety of situations and scenes. I could +show you some scenes, but others are too coarse even for my stomach +hardened by a course of French novels. + +'All things look so happy for the rain. + +'NOV. 16. - Verbenas looking well. . . . I am but a poor creature +without you; I have naturally no spirit or fun or enterprise in me. +Only a kind of mechanical capacity for ascertaining whether two +really is half four, etc.; but when you are near me I can fancy +that I too shine, and vainly suppose it to be my proper light; +whereas by my extreme darkness when you are not by, it clearly can +only be by a reflected brilliance that I seem aught but dull. Then +for the moral part of me: if it were not for you and little Odden, +I should feel by no means sure that I had any affection power in +me. . . . Even the muscular me suffers a sad deterioration in your +absence. I don't get up when I ought to, I have snoozed in my +chair after dinner; I do not go in at the garden with my wonted +vigour, and feel ten times as tired as usual with a walk in your +absence; so you see, when you are not by, I am a person without +ability, affections or vigour, but droop dull, selfish, and +spiritless; can you wonder that I love you? + +'NOV. 17. - . . . I am very glad we married young. I would not +have missed these five years, no, not for any hopes; they are my +own. + +'NOV. 30. - I got through my Chatham lecture very fairly though +almost all my apparatus went astray. I dined at the mess, and got +home to Isleworth the same evening; your father very kindly sitting +up for me. + +'DEC. 1. - Back at dear Claygate. Many cuttings flourish, +especially those which do honour to your hand. Your Californian +annuals are up and about. Badger is fat, the grass green. . . . + +'DEC. 3. - Odden will not talk of you, while you are away, having +inherited, as I suspect, his father's way of declining to consider +a subject which is painful, as your absence is. . . . I certainly +should like to learn Greek and I think it would be a capital +pastime for the long winter evenings. . . . How things are +misrated! I declare croquet is a noble occupation compared to the +pursuits of business men. As for so-called idleness - that is, one +form of it - I vow it is the noblest aim of man. When idle, one +can love, one can be good, feel kindly to all, devote oneself to +others, be thankful for existence, educate one's mind, one's heart, +one's body. When busy, as I am busy now or have been busy to-day, +one feels just as you sometimes felt when you were too busy, owing +to want of servants. + +'DEC. 5. - On Sunday I was at Isleworth, chiefly engaged in playing +with Odden. We had the most enchanting walk together through the +brickfields. It was very muddy, and, as he remarked, not fit for +Nanna, but fit for us MEN. The dreary waste of bared earth, +thatched sheds and standing water, was a paradise to him; and when +we walked up planks to deserted mixing and crushing mills, and +actually saw where the clay was stirred with long iron prongs, and +chalk or lime ground with "a tind of a mill," his expression of +contentment and triumphant heroism knew no limit to its beauty. Of +course on returning I found Mrs. Austin looking out at the door in +an anxious manner, and thinking we had been out quite long enough. +. . . I am reading Don Quixote chiefly and am his fervent admirer, +but I am so sorry he did not place his affections on a Dulcinea of +somewhat worthier stamp. In fact I think there must be a mistake +about it. Don Quixote might and would serve his lady in most +preposterous fashion, but I am sure he would have chosen a lady of +merit. He imagined her to be such no doubt, and drew a charming +picture of her occupations by the banks of the river; but in his +other imaginations, there was some kind of peg on which to hang the +false costumes he created; windmills are big, and wave their arms +like giants; sheep in the distance are somewhat like an army; a +little boat on the river-side must look much the same whether +enchanted or belonging to millers; but except that Dulcinea is a +woman, she bears no resemblance at all to the damsel of his +imagination.' + +At the time of these letters, the oldest son only was born to them. +In September of the next year, with the birth of the second, +Charles Frewen, there befell Fleeming a terrible alarm and what +proved to be a lifelong misfortune. Mrs. Jenkin was taken suddenly +and alarmingly ill; Fleeming ran a matter of two miles to fetch the +doctor, and, drenched with sweat as he was, returned with him at +once in an open gig. On their arrival at the house, Mrs. Jenkin +half unconsciously took and kept hold of her husband's hand. By +the doctor's orders, windows and doors were set open to create a +thorough draught, and the patient was on no account to be +disturbed. Thus, then, did Fleeming pass the whole of that night, +crouching on the floor in the draught, and not daring to move lest +he should wake the sleeper. He had never been strong; energy had +stood him instead of vigour; and the result of that night's +exposure was flying rheumatism varied by settled sciatica. +Sometimes it quite disabled him, sometimes it was less acute; but +he was rarely free from it until his death. I knew him for many +years; for more than ten we were closely intimate; I have lived +with him for weeks; and during all this time, he only once referred +to his infirmity and then perforce as an excuse for some trouble he +put me to, and so slightly worded that I paid no heed. This is a +good measure of his courage under sufferings of which none but the +untried will think lightly. And I think it worth noting how this +optimist was acquainted with pain. It will seem strange only to +the superficial. The disease of pessimism springs never from real +troubles, which it braces men to bear, which it delights men to +bear well. Nor does it readily spring at all, in minds that have +conceived of life as a field of ordered duties, not as a chase in +which to hunt for gratifications. 'We are not here to be happy, +but to be good'; I wish he had mended the phrase: 'We are not here +to be happy, but to try to be good,' comes nearer the modesty of +truth. With such old-fashioned morality, it is possible to get +through life, and see the worst of it, and feel some of the worst +of it, and still acquiesce piously and even gladly in man's fate. +Feel some of the worst of it, I say; for some of the rest of the +worst is, by this simple faith, excluded. + +It was in the year 1868, that the clouds finally rose. The +business in partnership with Mr. Forde began suddenly to pay well; +about the same time the patents showed themselves a valuable +property; and but a little after, Fleeming was appointed to the new +chair of engineering in the University of Edinburgh. Thus, almost +at once, pecuniary embarrassments passed for ever out of his life. +Here is his own epilogue to the time at Claygate, and his +anticipations of the future in Edinburgh. + +' . . . . The dear old house at Claygate is not let and the pretty +garden a mass of weeds. I feel rather as if we had behaved +unkindly to them. We were very happy there, but now that it is +over I am conscious of the weight of anxiety as to money which I +bore all the time. With you in the garden, with Austin in the +coach-house, with pretty songs in the little, low white room, with +the moonlight in the dear room up-stairs, ah, it was perfect; but +the long walk, wondering, pondering, fearing, scheming, and the +dusty jolting railway, and the horrid fusty office with its endless +disappointments, they are well gone. It is well enough to fight +and scheme and bustle about in the eager crowd here [in London] for +a while now and then, but not for a lifetime. What I have now is +just perfect. Study for winter, action for summer, lovely country +for recreation, a pleasant town for talk . . .' + + + +CHAPTER V. - NOTES OF TELEGRAPH VOYAGES, 1858 TO 1873. + + + +BUT it is now time to see Jenkin at his life's work. I have before +me certain imperfect series of letters written, as he says, 'at +hazard, for one does not know at the time what is important and +what is not': the earlier addressed to Miss Austin, after the +betrothal; the later to Mrs. Jenkin the young wife. I should +premise that I have allowed myself certain editorial freedoms, +leaving out and splicing together much as he himself did with the +Bona cable: thus edited the letters speak for themselves, and will +fail to interest none who love adventure or activity. Addressed as +they were to her whom he called his 'dear engineering pupil,' they +give a picture of his work so clear that a child may understand, +and so attractive that I am half afraid their publication may prove +harmful, and still further crowd the ranks of a profession already +overcrowded. But their most engaging quality is the picture of the +writer; with his indomitable self-confidence and courage, his +readiness in every pinch of circumstance or change of plan, and his +ever fresh enjoyment of the whole web of human experience, nature, +adventure, science, toil and rest, society and solitude. It should +be borne in mind that the writer of these buoyant pages was, even +while he wrote, harassed by responsibility, stinted in sleep and +often struggling with the prostration of sea-sickness. To this +last enemy, which he never overcame, I have omitted, in my search +after condensation, a good many references; if they were all left, +such was the man's temper, they would not represent one hundredth +part of what he suffered, for he was never given to complaint. But +indeed he had met this ugly trifle, as he met every thwart +circumstance of life, with a certain pleasure of pugnacity; and +suffered it not to check him, whether in the exercise of his +profession or the pursuit of amusement. + + +I. + + +'Birkenhead: April 18, 1858. + +'Well, you should know, Mr. - having a contract to lay down a +submarine telegraph from Sardinia to Africa failed three times in +the attempt. The distance from land to land is about 140 miles. +On the first occasion, after proceeding some 70 miles, he had to +cut the cable - the cause I forget; he tried again, same result; +then picked up about 20 miles of the lost cable, spliced on a new +piece, and very nearly got across that time, but ran short of +cable, and when but a few miles off Galita in very deep water, had +to telegraph to London for more cable to be manufactured and sent +out whilst he tried to stick to the end: for five days, I think, +he lay there sending and receiving messages, but heavy weather +coming on the cable parted and Mr. - went home in despair - at +least I should think so. + +'He then applied to those eminent engineers, R. S. Newall & Co., +who made and laid down a cable for him last autumn - Fleeming +Jenkin (at the time in considerable mental agitation) having the +honour of fitting out the ELBA for that purpose.' [On this +occasion, the ELBA has no cable to lay; but] 'is going out in the +beginning of May to endeavour to fish up the cables Mr. - lost. +There are two ends at or near the shore: the third will probably +not be found within 20 miles from land. One of these ends will be +passed over a very big pulley or sheave at the bows, passed six +times round a big barrel or drum; which will be turned round by a +steam engine on deck, and thus wind up the cable, while the ELBA +slowly steams ahead. The cable is not wound round and round the +drum as your silk is wound on its reel, but on the contrary never +goes round more than six times, going off at one side as it comes +on at the other, and going down into the hold of the ELBA to be +coiled along in a big coil or skein. + +'I went down to Gateshead to discuss with Mr. Newall the form which +this tolerably simple idea should take, and have been busy since I +came here drawing, ordering, and putting up the machinery - +uninterfered with, thank goodness, by any one. I own I like +responsibility; it flatters one and then, your father might say, I +have more to gain than to lose. Moreover I do like this bloodless, +painless combat with wood and iron, forcing the stubborn rascals to +do my will, licking the clumsy cubs into an active shape, seeing +the child of to-day's thought working to-morrow in full vigour at +his appointed task. + +'May 12. + +'By dint of bribing, bullying, cajoling, and going day by day to +see the state of things ordered, all my work is very nearly ready +now; but those who have neglected these precautions are of course +disappointed. Five hundred fathoms of chain [were] ordered by - +some three weeks since, to be ready by the 10th without fail; he +sends for it to-day - 150 fathoms all they can let us have by the +15th - and how the rest is to be got, who knows? He ordered a boat +a month since and yesterday we could see nothing of her but the +keel and about two planks. I could multiply instances without end. +At first one goes nearly mad with vexation at these things; but one +finds so soon that they are the rule, that then it becomes +necessary to feign a rage one does not feel. I look upon it as the +natural order of things, that if I order a thing, it will not be +done - if by accident it gets done, it will certainly be done +wrong: the only remedy being to watch the performance at every +stage. + +'To-day was a grand field-day. I had steam up and tried the engine +against pressure or resistance. One part of the machinery is +driven by a belt or strap of leather. I always had my doubts this +might slip; and so it did, wildly. I had made provision for +doubling it, putting on two belts instead of one. No use - off +they went, slipping round and off the pulleys instead of driving +the machinery. Tighten them - no use. More strength there - down +with the lever - smash something, tear the belts, but get them +tight - now then, stand clear, on with the steam; - and the belts +slip away as if nothing held them. Men begin to look queer; the +circle of quidnuncs make sage remarks. Once more - no use. I +begin to know I ought to feel sheepish and beat, but somehow I feel +cocky instead. I laugh and say, "Well, I am bound to break +something down" - and suddenly see. "Oho, there's the place; get +weight on there, and the belt won't slip." With much labour, on go +the belts again. "Now then, a spar thro' there and six men's +weight on; mind you're not carried away." - "Ay, ay, sir." But +evidently no one believes in the plan. "Hurrah, round she goes - +stick to your spar. All right, shut off steam." And the +difficulty is vanquished. + +'This or such as this (not always quite so bad) occurs hour after +hour, while five hundred tons of coal are rattling down into the +holds and bunkers, riveters are making their infernal row all +round, and riggers bend the sails and fit the rigging:- a sort of +Pandemonium, it appeared to young Mrs. Newall, who was here on +Monday and half-choked with guano; but it suits the likes o' me. + +'S. S. ELBA, River Mersey: May 17. + +'We are delayed in the river by some of the ship's papers not being +ready. Such a scene at the dock gates. Not a sailor will join +till the last moment; and then, just as the ship forges ahead +through the narrow pass, beds and baggage fly on board, the men +half tipsy clutch at the rigging, the captain swears, the women +scream and sob, the crowd cheer and laugh, while one or two pretty +little girls stand still and cry outright, regardless of all eyes. + +'These two days of comparative peace have quite set me on my legs +again. I was getting worn and weary with anxiety and work. As +usual I have been delighted with my shipwrights. I gave them some +beer on Saturday, making a short oration. To-day when they went +ashore and I came on board, they gave three cheers, whether for me +or the ship I hardly know, but I had just bid them good-bye, and +the ship was out of hail; but I was startled and hardly liked to +claim the compliment by acknowledging it. + +'S. S. ELBA: May 25. + +'My first intentions of a long journal have been fairly frustrated +by sea-sickness. On Tuesday last about noon we started from the +Mersey in very dirty weather, and were hardly out of the river when +we met a gale from the south-west and a heavy sea, both right in +our teeth; and the poor ELBA had a sad shaking. Had I not been +very sea-sick, the sight would have been exciting enough, as I sat +wrapped in my oilskins on the bridge; [but] in spite of all my +efforts to talk, to eat, and to grin, I soon collapsed into +imbecility; and I was heartily thankful towards evening to find +myself in bed. + +'Next morning, I fancied it grew quieter and, as I listened, heard, +"Let go the anchor," whereon I concluded we had run into Holyhead +Harbour, as was indeed the case. All that day we lay in Holyhead, +but I could neither read nor write nor draw. The captain of +another steamer which had put in came on board, and we all went for +a walk on the hill; and in the evening there was an exchange of +presents. We gave some tobacco I think, and received a cat, two +pounds of fresh butter, a Cumberland ham, WESTWARD HO! and +Thackeray's ENGLISH HUMOURISTS. I was astonished at receiving two +such fair books from the captain of a little coasting screw. Our +captain said he [the captain of the screw] had plenty of money, +five or six hundred a year at least. - "What in the world makes him +go rolling about in such a craft, then?" - "Why, I fancy he's +reckless; he's desperate in love with that girl I mentioned, and +she won't look at him." Our honest, fat, old captain says this +very grimly in his thick, broad voice. + +'My head won't stand much writing yet, so I will run up and take a +look at the blue night sky off the coast of Portugal. + +'May 26. + +'A nice lad of some two and twenty, A- by name, goes out in a +nondescript capacity as part purser, part telegraph clerk, part +generally useful person. A- was a great comfort during the +miseries [of the gale]; for when with a dead head wind and a heavy +sea, plates, books, papers, stomachs were being rolled about in sad +confusion, we generally managed to lie on our backs, and grin, and +try discordant staves of the FLOWERS OF THE FOREST and the LOW- +BACKED CAR. We could sing and laugh, when we could do nothing +else; though A- was ready to swear after each fit was past, that +that was the first time he had felt anything, and at this moment +would declare in broad Scotch that he'd never been sick at all, +qualifying the oath with "except for a minute now and then." He +brought a cornet-a-piston to practice on, having had three weeks' +instructions on that melodious instrument; and if you could hear +the horrid sounds that come! especially at heavy rolls. When I +hint he is not improving, there comes a confession: "I don't feel +quite right yet, you see!" But he blows away manfully, and in +self-defence I try to roar the tune louder. + +'11:30 P.M. + +'Long past Cape St. Vincent now. We went within about 400 yards of +the cliffs and light-house in a calm moonlight, with porpoises +springing from the sea, the men crooning long ballads as they lay +idle on the forecastle and the sails flapping uncertain on the +yards. As we passed, there came a sudden breeze from land, hot and +heavy scented; and now as I write its warm rich flavour contrasts +strongly with the salt air we have been breathing. + +'I paced the deck with H-, the second mate, and in the quiet night +drew a confession that he was engaged to be married, and gave him a +world of good advice. He is a very nice, active, little fellow, +with a broad Scotch tongue and "dirty, little rascal" appearance. +He had a sad disappointment at starting. Having been second mate +on the last voyage, when the first mate was discharged, he took +charge of the ELBA all the time she was in port, and of course +looked forward to being chief mate this trip. Liddell promised him +the post. He had not authority to do this; and when Newall heard +of it, he appointed another man. Fancy poor H-having told all the +men and most of all, his sweetheart. But more remains behind; for +when it came to signing articles, it turned out that O-, the new +first mate, had not a certificate which allowed him to have a +second mate. Then came rather an affecting scene. For H- proposed +to sign as chief (he having the necessary higher certificate) but +to act as second for the lower wages. At first O- would not give +in, but offered to go as second. But our brave little H- said, no: +"The owners wished Mr. O- to be chief mate, and chief mate he +should be." So he carried the day, signed as chief and acts as +second. Shakespeare and Byron are his favourite books. I walked +into Byron a little, but can well understand his stirring up a +rough, young sailor's romance. I lent him WESTWARD HO from the +cabin; but to my astonishment he did not care much for it; he said +it smelt of the shilling railway library; perhaps I had praised it +too highly. Scott is his standard for novels. I am very happy to +find good taste by no means confined to gentlemen, H- having no +pretensions to that title. He is a man after my own heart. + +'Then I came down to the cabin and heard young A-'s schemes for the +future. His highest picture is a commission in the Prince of +Vizianagram's irregular horse. His eldest brother is tutor to his +Highness's children, and grand vizier, and magistrate, and on his +Highness's household staff, and seems to be one of those Scotch +adventurers one meets with and hears of in queer berths - raising +cavalry, building palaces, and using some petty Eastern king's long +purse with their long Scotch heads. + +'Off Bona; June 4. + +'I read your letter carefully, leaning back in a Maltese boat to +present the smallest surface of my body to a grilling sun, and +sailing from the ELBA to Cape Hamrah about three miles distant. +How we fried and sighed! At last, we reached land under Fort +Genova, and I was carried ashore pick-a-back, and plucked the first +flower I saw for Annie. It was a strange scene, far more novel +than I had imagined: the high, steep banks covered with rich, +spicy vegetation of which I hardly knew one plant. The dwarf palm +with fan-like leaves, growing about two feet high, formed the +staple of the verdure. As we brushed through them, the gummy +leaves of a cistus stuck to the clothes; and with its small white +flower and yellow heart, stood for our English dog-rose. In place +of heather, we had myrtle and lentisque with leaves somewhat +similar. That large bulb with long flat leaves? Do not touch it +if your hands are cut; the Arabs use it as blisters for their +horses. Is that the same sort? No, take that one up; it is the +bulb of a dwarf palm, each layer of the onion peels off, brown and +netted, like the outside of a cocoa-nut. It is a clever plant +that; from the leaves we get a vegetable horsehair; - and eat the +bottom of the centre spike. All the leaves you pull have the same +aromatic scent. But here a little patch of cleared ground shows +old friends, who seem to cling by abused civilisation:-fine, hardy +thistles, one of them bright yellow, though; - honest, Scotch- +looking, large daisies or gowans; - potatoes here and there, +looking but sickly; and dark sturdy fig-trees looking cool and at +their ease in the burning sun. + +'Here we are at Fort Genova, crowning the little point, a small old +building, due to my old Genoese acquaintance who fought and traded +bravely once upon a time. A broken cannon of theirs forms the +threshold; and through a dark, low arch, we enter upon broad +terraces sloping to the centre, from which rain water may collect +and run into that well. Large-breeched French troopers lounge +about and are most civil; and the whole party sit down to breakfast +in a little white-washed room, from the door of which the long, +mountain coastline and the sparkling sea show of an impossible blue +through the openings of a white-washed rampart. I try a sea-egg, +one of those prickly fellows - sea-urchins, they are called +sometimes; the shell is of a lovely purple, and when opened, there +are rays of yellow adhering to the inside; these I eat, but they +are very fishy. + +'We are silent and shy of one another, and soon go out to watch +while turbaned, blue-breeched, barelegged Arabs dig holes for the +land telegraph posts on the following principle: one man takes a +pick and bangs lazily at the hard earth; when a little is loosened, +his mate with a small spade lifts it on one side; and DA CAPO. +They have regular features and look quite in place among the palms. +Our English workmen screw the earthenware insulators on the posts, +strain the wire, and order Arabs about by the generic term of +Johnny. I find W- has nothing for me to do; and that in fact no +one has anything to do. Some instruments for testing have stuck at +Lyons, some at Cagliari; and nothing can be done - or at any rate, +is done. I wander about, thinking of you and staring at big, green +grasshoppers - locusts, some people call them - and smelling the +rich brushwood. There was nothing for a pencil to sketch, and I +soon got tired of this work, though I have paid willingly much +money for far less strange and lovely sights. + +'Off Cape Spartivento: June 8. + +'At two this morning, we left Cagliari; at five cast anchor here. +I got up and began preparing for the final trial; and shortly +afterwards everyone else of note on board went ashore to make +experiments on the state of the cable, leaving me with the prospect +of beginning to lift at 12 o'clock. I was not ready by that time; +but the experiments were not concluded and moreover the cable was +found to be imbedded some four or five feet in sand, so that the +boat could not bring off the end. At three, Messrs. Liddell, &c., +came on board in good spirits, having found two wires good or in +such a state as permitted messages to be transmitted freely. The +boat now went to grapple for the cable some way from shore while +the ELBA towed a small lateen craft which was to take back the +consul to Cagliari some distance on its way. On our return we +found the boat had been unsuccessful; she was allowed to drop +astern, while we grappled for the cable in the ELBA [without more +success]. The coast is a low mountain range covered with brushwood +or heather - pools of water and a sandy beach at their feet. I +have not yet been ashore, my hands having been very full all day. + +'June 9. + +'Grappling for the cable outside the bank had been voted too +uncertain; [and the day was spent in] efforts to pull the cable off +through the sand which has accumulated over it. By getting the +cable tight on to the boat, and letting the swell pitch her about +till it got slack, and then tightening again with blocks and +pulleys, we managed to get out from the beach towards the ship at +the rate of about twenty yards an hour. When they had got about +100 yards from shore, we ran round in the ELBA to try and help +them, letting go the anchor in the shallowest possible water, this +was about sunset. Suddenly someone calls out he sees the cable at +the bottom: there it was sure enough, apparently wriggling about +as the waves rippled. Great excitement; still greater when we find +our own anchor is foul of it and has been the means of bringing it +to light. We let go a grapnel, get the cable clear of the anchor +on to the grapnel - the captain in an agony lest we should drift +ashore meanwhile - hand the grappling line into the big boat, steam +out far enough, and anchor again. A little more work and one end +of the cable is up over the bows round my drum. I go to my engine +and we start hauling in. All goes pretty well, but it is quite +dark. Lamps are got at last, and men arranged. We go on for a +quarter of a mile or so from shore and then stop at about half-past +nine with orders to be up at three. Grand work at last! A number +of the SATURDAY REVIEW here; it reads so hot and feverish, so +tomblike and unhealthy, in the midst of dear Nature's hills and +sea, with good wholesome work to do. Pray that all go well to- +morrow. + +'June 10. + +'Thank heaven for a most fortunate day. At three o'clock this +morning in a damp, chill mist all hands were roused to work. With +a small delay, for one or two improvements I had seen to be +necessary last night, the engine started and since that time I do +not think there has been half an hour's stoppage. A rope to +splice, a block to change, a wheel to oil, an old rusted anchor to +disengage from the cable which brought it up, these have been our +only obstructions. Sixty, seventy, eighty, a hundred, a hundred +and twenty revolutions at last, my little engine tears away. The +even black rope comes straight out of the blue heaving water: +passes slowly round an open-hearted, good-tempered looking pulley, +five feet diameter; aft past a vicious nipper, to bring all up +should anything go wrong; through a gentle guide; on to a huge +bluff drum, who wraps him round his body and says "Come you must," +as plain as drum can speak: the chattering pauls say "I've got +him, I've got him, he can't get back:" whilst black cable, much +slacker and easier in mind and body, is taken by a slim V-pulley +and passed down into the huge hold, where half a dozen men put him +comfortably to bed after his exertion in rising from his long bath. +In good sooth, it is one of the strangest sights I know to see that +black fellow rising up so steadily in the midst of the blue sea. +We are more than half way to the place where we expect the fault; +and already the one wire, supposed previously to be quite bad near +the African coast, can be spoken through. I am very glad I am +here, for my machines are my own children and I look on their +little failings with a parent's eye and lead them into the path of +duty with gentleness and firmness. I am naturally in good spirits, +but keep very quiet, for misfortunes may arise at any instant; +moreover to-morrow my paying-out apparatus will be wanted should +all go well, and that will be another nervous operation. Fifteen +miles are safely in; but no one knows better than I do that nothing +is done till all is done. + +'June 11. + +'9 A.M. - We have reached the splice supposed to be faulty, and no +fault has been found. The two men learned in electricity, L- and +W-, squabble where the fault is. + +'EVENING. - A weary day in a hot broiling sun; no air. After the +experiments, L- said the fault might be ten miles ahead: by that +time, we should be according to a chart in about a thousand fathoms +of water - rather more than a mile. It was most difficult to +decide whether to go on or not. I made preparations for a heavy +pull, set small things to rights and went to sleep. About four in +the afternoon, Mr. Liddell decided to proceed, and we are now (at +seven) grinding it in at the rate of a mile and three-quarters per +hour, which appears a grand speed to us. If the paying-out only +works well! I have just thought of a great improvement in it; I +can't apply it this time, however. - The sea is of an oily calm, +and a perfect fleet of brigs and ships surrounds us, their sails +hardly filling in the lazy breeze. The sun sets behind the dim +coast of the Isola San Pietro, the coast of Sardinia high and +rugged becomes softer and softer in the distance, while to the +westward still the isolated rock of Toro springs from the horizon. +- It would amuse you to see how cool (in head) and jolly everybody +is. A testy word now and then shows the wires are strained a +little, but everyone laughs and makes his little jokes as if it +were all in fun: yet we are all as much in earnest as the most +earnest of the earnest bastard German school or demonstrative of +Frenchmen. I enjoy it very much. + +'June 12. + +'5.30 A.M. - Out of sight of land: about thirty nautical miles in +the hold; the wind rising a little; experiments being made for a +fault, while the engine slowly revolves to keep us hanging at the +same spot: depth supposed about a mile. The machinery has behaved +admirably. Oh! that the paying-out were over! The new machinery +there is but rough, meant for an experiment in shallow water, and +here we are in a mile of water. + +'6.30. - I have made my calculations and find the new paying-out +gear cannot possibly answer at this depth, some portion would give +way. Luckily, I have brought the old things with me and am getting +them rigged up as fast as may be. Bad news from the cable. Number +four has given in some portion of the last ten miles: the fault in +number three is still at the bottom of the sea: number two is now +the only good wire and the hold is getting in such a mess, through +keeping bad bits out and cutting for splicing and testing, that +there will be great risk in paying out. The cable is somewhat +strained in its ascent from one mile below us; what it will be when +we get to two miles is a problem we may have to determine. + +'9 P.M. - A most provoking unsatisfactory day. We have done +nothing. The wind and sea have both risen. Too little notice has +been given to the telegraphists who accompany this expedition; they +had to leave all their instruments at Lyons in order to arrive at +Bona in time; our tests are therefore of the roughest, and no one +really knows where the faults are. Mr. L- in the morning lost much +time; then he told us, after we had been inactive for about eight +hours, that the fault in number three was within six miles; and at +six o'clock in the evening, when all was ready for a start to pick +up these six miles, he comes and says there must be a fault about +thirty miles from Bona! By this time it was too late to begin +paying out today, and we must lie here moored in a thousand fathoms +till light to-morrow morning. The ship pitches a good deal, but +the wind is going down. + +'June 13, Sunday. + +'The wind has not gone down, however. It now (at 10.30) blows a +pretty stiff gale, the sea has also risen; and the ELBA'S bows rise +and fall about 9 feet. We make twelve pitches to the minute, and +the poor cable must feel very sea-sick by this time. We are quite +unable to do anything, and continue riding at anchor in one +thousand fathoms, the engines going constantly so as to keep the +ship's bows up to the cable, which by this means hangs nearly +vertical and sustains no strain but that caused by its own weight +and the pitching of the vessel. We were all up at four, but the +weather entirely forbade work for to-day, so some went to bed and +most lay down, making up our leeway as we nautically term our loss +of sleep. I must say Liddell is a fine fellow and keeps his +patience and temper wonderfully; and yet how he does fret and fume +about trifles at home! This wind has blown now for 36 hours, and +yet we have telegrams from Bona to say the sea there is as calm as +a mirror. It makes one laugh to remember one is still tied to the +shore. Click, click, click, the pecker is at work: I wonder what +Herr P- says to Herr L-, - tests, tests, tests, nothing more. This +will be a very anxious day. + +'June 14. + +'Another day of fatal inaction. + +'June 15. + +'9.30. - The wind has gone down a deal; but even now there are +doubts whether we shall start to-day. When shall I get back to +you? + +'9 P.M. - Four miles from land. Our run has been successful and +eventless. Now the work is nearly over I feel a little out of +spirits - why, I should be puzzled to say - mere wantonness, or +reaction perhaps after suspense. + +'June 16. + +'Up this morning at three, coupled my self-acting gear to the brake +and had the satisfaction of seeing it pay out the last four miles +in very good style. With one or two little improvements, I hope to +make it a capital thing. The end has just gone ashore in two +boats, three out of four wires good. Thus ends our first +expedition. By some odd chance a TIMES of June the 7th has found +its way on board through the agency of a wretched old peasant who +watches the end of the line here. A long account of breakages in +the Atlantic trial trip. To-night we grapple for the heavy cable, +eight tons to the mile. I long to have a tug at him; he may puzzle +me, and though misfortunes or rather difficulties are a bore at the +time, life when working with cables is tame without them. + +'2 P.M. - Hurrah, he is hooked, the big fellow, almost at the first +cast. He hangs under our bows looking so huge and imposing that I +could find it in my heart to be afraid of him. + +'June 17. + +'We went to a little bay called Chia, where a fresh-water stream +falls into the sea, and took in water. This is rather a long +operation, so I went a walk up the valley with Mr. Liddell. The +coast here consists of rocky mountains 800 to 1,000 feet high +covered with shrubs of a brilliant green. On landing our first +amusement was watching the hundreds of large fish who lazily swam +in shoals about the river; the big canes on the further side hold +numberless tortoises, we are told, but see none, for just now they +prefer taking a siesta. A little further on, and what is this with +large pink flowers in such abundance? - the oleander in full +flower. At first I fear to pluck them, thinking they must be +cultivated and valuable; but soon the banks show a long line of +thick tall shrubs, one mass of glorious pink and green. Set these +in a little valley, framed by mountains whose rocks gleam out blue +and purple colours such as pre-Raphaelites only dare attempt, +shining out hard and weird-like amongst the clumps of castor-oil +plants, oistus, arbor vitae and many other evergreens, whose names, +alas! I know not; the cistus is brown now, the rest all deep or +brilliant green. Large herds of cattle browse on the baked deposit +at the foot of these large crags. One or two half-savage herdsmen +in sheepskin kilts, &c., ask for cigars; partridges whirr up on +either side of us; pigeons coo and nightingales sing amongst the +blooming oleander. We get six sheep and many fowls, too, from the +priest of the small village; and then run back to Spartivento and +make preparations for the morning. + +'June 18. + +'The big cable is stubborn and will not behave like his smaller +brother. The gear employed to take him off the drum is not strong +enough; he gets slack on the drum and plays the mischief. Luckily +for my own conscience, the gear I had wanted was negatived by Mr. +Newall. Mr. Liddell does not exactly blame me, but he says we +might have had a silver pulley cheaper than the cost of this delay. +He has telegraphed for more men to Cagliari, to try to pull the +cable off the drum into the hold, by hand. I look as comfortable +as I can, but feel as if people were blaming me. I am trying my +best to get something rigged which may help us; I wanted a little +difficulty, and feel much better. - The short length we have picked +up was covered at places with beautiful sprays of coral, twisted +and twined with shells of those small, fairy animals we saw in the +aquarium at home; poor little things, they died at once, with their +little bells and delicate bright tints. + +'12 O'CLOCK. - Hurrah, victory! for the present anyhow. Whilst in +our first dejection, I thought I saw a place where a flat roller +would remedy the whole misfortune; but a flat roller at Cape +Spartivento, hard, easily unshipped, running freely! There was a +grooved pulley used for the paying-out machinery with a spindle +wheel, which might suit me. I filled him up with tarry spunyarn, +nailed sheet copper round him, bent some parts in the fire; and we +are paying-in without more trouble now. You would think some one +would praise me; no, no more praise than blame before; perhaps now +they think better of me, though. + +'10 P.M. - We have gone on very comfortably for nearly six miles. +An hour and a half was spent washing down; for along with many +coloured polypi, from corals, shells and insects, the big cable +brings up much mud and rust, and makes a fishy smell by no means +pleasant: the bottom seems to teem with life. - But now we are +startled by a most unpleasant, grinding noise; which appeared at +first to come from the large low pulley, but when the engines +stopped, the noise continued; and we now imagine it is something +slipping down the cable, and the pulley but acts as sounding-board +to the big fiddle. Whether it is only an anchor or one of the two +other cables, we know not. We hope it is not the cable just laid +down. + +'June 19. + +'10 A.M. - All our alarm groundless, it would appear: the odd +noise ceased after a time, and there was no mark sufficiently +strong on the large cable to warrant the suspicion that we had cut +another line through. I stopped up on the look-out till three in +the morning, which made 23 hours between sleep and sleep. One goes +dozing about, though, most of the day, for it is only when +something goes wrong that one has to look alive. Hour after hour, +I stand on the forecastle-head, picking off little specimens of +polypi and coral, or lie on the saloon deck reading back numbers of +the TIMES - till something hitches, and then all is hurly-burly +once more. There are awnings all along the ship, and a most +ancient, fish-like smell beneath. + +'1 O'CLOCK. - Suddenly a great strain in only 95 fathoms of water - +belts surging and general dismay; grapnels being thrown out in the +hope of finding what holds the cable. - Should it prove the young +cable! We are apparently crossing its path - not the working one, +but the lost child; Mr. Liddell WOULD start the big one first +though it was laid first: he wanted to see the job done, and meant +to leave us to the small one unaided by his presence. + +'3.30. - Grapnel caught something, lost it again; it left its marks +on the prongs. Started lifting gear again; and after hauling in +some 50 fathoms - grunt, grunt, grunt - we hear the other cable +slipping down our big one, playing the selfsame tune we heard last +night - louder, however. + +'10 P.M. - The pull on the deck engines became harder and harder. +I got steam up in a boiler on deck, and another little engine +starts hauling at the grapnel. I wonder if there ever was such a +scene of confusion: Mr. Liddell and W- and the captain all giving +orders contradictory, &c., on the forecastle; D-, the foreman of +our men, the mates, &c., following the example of our superiors; +the ship's engine and boilers below, a 50-horse engine on deck, a +boiler 14 feet long on deck beside it, a little steam winch tearing +round; a dozen Italians (20 have come to relieve our hands, the men +we telegraphed for to Cagliari) hauling at the rope; wiremen, +sailors, in the crevices left by ropes and machinery; everything +that could swear swearing - I found myself swearing like a trooper +at last. We got the unknown difficulty within ten fathoms of the +surface; but then the forecastle got frightened that, if it was the +small cable which we had got hold of, we should certainly break it +by continuing the tremendous and increasing strain. So at last Mr. +Liddell decided to stop; cut the big cable, buoying its end; go +back to our pleasant watering-place at Chia, take more water and +start lifting the small cable. The end of the large one has even +now regained its sandy bed; and three buoys - one to grapnel foul +of the supposed small cable, two to the big cable - are dipping +about on the surface. One more - a flag-buoy - will soon follow, +and then straight for shore. + +'June 20. + +'It is an ill-wind, &c. I have an unexpected opportunity of +forwarding this engineering letter; for the craft which brought out +our Italian sailors must return to Cagliari to-night, as the little +cable will take us nearly to Galita, and the Italian skipper could +hardly find his way from thence. To-day - Sunday - not much rest. +Mr. Liddell is at Spartivento telegraphing. We are at Chia, and +shall shortly go to help our boat's crew in getting the small cable +on board. We dropped them some time since in order that they might +dig it out of the sand as far as possible. + +'June 21. + +'Yesterday - Sunday as it was - all hands were kept at work all +day, coaling, watering, and making a futile attempt to pull the +cable from the shore on board through the sand. This attempt was +rather silly after the experience we had gained at Cape +Spartivento. This morning we grappled, hooked the cable at once, +and have made an excellent start. Though I have called this the +small cable, it is much larger than the Bona one. - Here comes a +break down and a bad one. + +'June 22. + +'We got over it, however; but it is a warning to me that my future +difficulties will arise from parts wearing out. Yesterday the +cable was often a lovely sight, coming out of the water one large +incrustation of delicate, net-like corals and long, white curling +shells. No portion of the dirty black wires was visible; instead +we had a garland of soft pink with little scarlet sprays and white +enamel intermixed. All was fragile, however, and could hardly be +secured in safety; and inexorable iron crushed the tender leaves to +atoms. - This morning at the end of my watch, about 4 o'clock, we +came to the buoys, proving our anticipations right concerning the +crossing of the cables. I went to bed for four hours, and on +getting up, found a sad mess. A tangle of the six-wire cable hung +to the grapnel which had been left buoyed, and the small cable had +parted and is lost for the present. Our hauling of the other day +must have done the mischief. + +'June 23. + +'We contrived to get the two ends of the large cable and to pick +the short end up. The long end, leading us seaward, was next put +round the drum and a mile of it picked up; but then, fearing +another tangle, the end was cut and buoyed, and we returned to +grapple for the three-wire cable. All this is very tiresome for +me. The buoying and dredging are managed entirely by W-, who has +had much experience in this sort of thing; so I have not enough to +do and get very homesick. At noon the wind freshened and the sea +rose so high that we had to run for land and are once more this +evening anchored at Chia. + +'June 24. + +'The whole day spent in dredging without success. This operation +consists in allowing the ship to drift slowly across the line where +you expect the cable to be, while at the end of a long rope, fast +either to the bow or stern, a grapnel drags along the ground. This +grapnel is a small anchor, made like four pot-hooks tied back to +back. When the rope gets taut, the ship is stopped and the grapnel +hauled up to the surface in the hopes of finding the cable on its +prongs. - I am much discontented with myself for idly lounging +about and reading WESTWARD HO! for the second time, instead of +taking to electricity or picking up nautical information. I am +uncommonly idle. The sea is not quite so rough, but the weather is +squally and the rain comes in frequent gusts. + +'June 25. + +'To-day about 1 o'clock we hooked the three-wire cable, buoyed the +long sea end, and picked up the short [or shore] end. Now it is +dark and we must wait for morning before lifting the buoy we +lowered to-day and proceeding seawards. - The depth of water here +is about 600 feet, the height of a respectable English hill; our +fishing line was about a quarter of a mile long. It blows pretty +fresh, and there is a great deal of sea. + +'26th. + +'This morning it came on to blow so heavily that it was impossible +to take up our buoy. The ELBA recommenced rolling in true Baltic +style and towards noon we ran for land. + +'27th, Sunday. + +'This morning was a beautiful calm. We reached the buoys at about +4.30 and commenced picking up at 6.30. Shortly a new cause of +anxiety arose. Kinks came up in great quantities, about thirty in +the hour. To have a true conception of a kink, you must see one: +it is a loop drawn tight, all the wires get twisted and the gutta- +percha inside pushed out. These much diminish the value of the +cable, as they must all be cut out, the gutta-percha made good, and +the cable spliced. They arise from the cable having been badly +laid down so that it forms folds and tails at the bottom of the +sea. These kinks have another disadvantage: they weaken the cable +very much. - At about six o'clock [P.M.] we had some twelve miles +lifted, when I went to the bows; the kinks were exceedingly tight +and were giving way in a most alarming manner. I got a cage rigged +up to prevent the end (if it broke) from hurting anyone, and sat +down on the bowsprit, thinking I should describe kinks to Annie:- +suddenly I saw a great many coils and kinks altogether at the +surface. I jumped to the gutta-percha pipe, by blowing through +which the signal is given to stop the engine. I blow, but the +engine does not stop; again - no answer: the coils and kinks jam +in the bows and I rush aft shouting stop. Too late: the cable had +parted and must lie in peace at the bottom. Someone had pulled the +gutta-percha tube across a bare part of the steam pipe and melted +it. It had been used hundreds of times in the last few days and +gave no symptoms of failing. I believe the cable must have gone at +any rate; however, since it went in my watch and since I might have +secured the tubing more strongly, I feel rather sad. . . . + +'June 28. + +'Since I could not go to Annie I took down Shakespeare, and by the +time I had finished ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, read the second half of +TROILUS and got some way in CORIOLANUS, I felt it was childish to +regret the accident had happened in my watch, and moreover I felt +myself not much to blame in the tubing matter - it had been torn +down, it had not fallen down; so I went to bed, and slept without +fretting, and woke this morning in the same good mood - for which +thank you and our friend Shakespeare. I am happy to say Mr. +Liddell said the loss of the cable did not much matter; though this +would have been no consolation had I felt myself to blame. - This +morning we have grappled for and found another length of small +cable which Mr. - dropped in 100 fathoms of water. If this also +gets full of kinks, we shall probably have to cut it after 10 miles +or so, or more probably still it will part of its own free will or +weight. + +'10 P.M. - This second length of three-wire cable soon got into the +same condition as its fellow - i.e. came up twenty kinks an hour - +and after seven miles were in, parted on the pulley over the bows +at one of the said kinks; during my watch again, but this time no +earthly power could have saved it. I had taken all manner of +precautions to prevent the end doing any damage when the smash +came, for come I knew it must. We now return to the six-wire +cable. As I sat watching the cable to-night, large phosphorescent +globes kept rolling from it and fading in the black water. + +'29th. + +'To-day we returned to the buoy we had left at the end of the six- +wire cable, and after much trouble from a series of tangles, got a +fair start at noon. You will easily believe a tangle of iron rope +inch and a half diameter is not easy to unravel, especially with a +ton or so hanging to the ends. It is now eight o'clock and we have +about six and a half miles safe: it becomes very exciting, +however, for the kinks are coming fast and furious. + +'July 2. + +'Twenty-eight miles safe in the hold. The ship is now so deep, +that the men are to be turned out of their aft hold, and the +remainder coiled there; so the good ELBA'S nose need not burrow too +far into the waves. There can only be about 10 or 12 miles more, +but these weigh 80 or 100 tons. + +'July 5. + +'Our first mate was much hurt in securing a buoy on the evening of +the 2nd. As interpreter [with the Italians] I am useful in all +these cases; but for no fortune would I be a doctor to witness +these scenes continually. Pain is a terrible thing. - Our work is +done: the whole of the six-wire cable has been recovered; only a +small part of the three-wire, but that wire was bad and, owing to +its twisted state, the value small. We may therefore be said to +have been very successful.' + + +II. + + +I have given this cruise nearly in full. From the notes, unhappily +imperfect, of two others, I will take only specimens; for in all +there are features of similarity and it is possible to have too +much even of submarine telegraphy and the romance of engineering. +And first from the cruise of 1859 in the Greek Islands and to +Alexandria, take a few traits, incidents and pictures. + +'May 10, 1859. + +'We had a fair wind and we did very well, seeing a little bit of +Cerig or Cythera, and lots of turtle-doves wandering about over the +sea and perching, tired and timid, in the rigging of our little +craft. Then Falconera, Antimilo, and Milo, topped with huge white +clouds, barren, deserted, rising bold and mysterious from the blue, +chafing sea; - Argentiera, Siphano, Scapho, Paros, Antiparos, and +late at night Syra itself. ADAM BEDE in one hand, a sketch-book in +the other, lying on rugs under an awning, I enjoyed a very pleasant +day. + +'May 14. + +'Syra is semi-eastern. The pavement, huge shapeless blocks sloping +to a central gutter; from this bare two-storied houses, sometimes +plaster many coloured, sometimes rough-hewn marble, rise, dirty and +ill-finished to straight, plain, flat roofs; shops guiltless of +windows, with signs in Greek letters; dogs, Greeks in blue, baggy, +Zouave breeches and a fez, a few narghilehs and a sprinkling of the +ordinary continental shopboys. - In the evening I tried one more +walk in Syra with A-, but in vain endeavoured to amuse myself or to +spend money; the first effort resulting in singing DOODAH to a +passing Greek or two, the second in spending, no, in making A- +spend, threepence on coffee for three. + +'May 16. + +'On coming on deck, I found we were at anchor in Canea bay, and saw +one of the most lovely sights man could witness. Far on either +hand stretch bold mountain capes, Spada and Maleka, tender in +colour, bold in outline; rich sunny levels lie beneath them, framed +by the azure sea. Right in front, a dark brown fortress girdles +white mosques and minarets. Rich and green, our mountain capes +here join to form a setting for the town, in whose dark walls - +still darker - open a dozen high-arched caves in which the huge +Venetian galleys used to lie in wait. High above all, higher and +higher yet, up into the firmament, range after range of blue and +snow-capped mountains. I was bewildered and amazed, having heard +nothing of this great beauty. The town when entered is quite +eastern. The streets are formed of open stalls under the first +story, in which squat tailors, cooks, sherbet vendors and the like, +busy at their work or smoking narghilehs. Cloths stretched from +house to house keep out the sun. Mules rattle through the crowd; +curs yelp between your legs; negroes are as hideous and bright +clothed as usual; grave Turks with long chibouques continue to +march solemnly without breaking them; a little Arab in one dirty +rag pokes fun at two splendid little Turks with brilliant fezzes; +wiry mountaineers in dirty, full, white kilts, shouldering long +guns and one hand on their pistols, stalk untamed past a dozen +Turkish soldiers, who look sheepish and brutal in worn cloth jacket +and cotton trousers. A headless, wingless lion of St. Mark still +stands upon a gate, and has left the mark of his strong clutch. Of +ancient times when Crete was Crete, not a trace remains; save +perhaps in the full, well-cut nostril and firm tread of that +mountaineer, and I suspect that even his sires were Albanians, mere +outer barbarians. + +'May 17. + +I spent the day at the little station where the cable was landed, +which has apparently been first a Venetian monastery and then a +Turkish mosque. At any rate the big dome is very cool, and the +little ones hold [our electric] batteries capitally. A handsome +young Bashibazouk guards it, and a still handsomer mountaineer is +the servant; so I draw them and the monastery and the hill, till +I'm black in the face with heat and come on board to hear the Canea +cable is still bad. + +'May 23. + +'We arrived in the morning at the east end of Candia, and had a +glorious scramble over the mountains which seem built of adamant. +Time has worn away the softer portions of the rock, only leaving +sharp jagged edges of steel. Sea eagles soaring above our heads; +old tanks, ruins, and desolation at our feet. The ancient Arsinoe +stood here; a few blocks of marble with the cross attest the +presence of Venetian Christians; but now - the desolation of +desolations. Mr. Liddell and I separated from the rest, and when +we had found a sure bay for the cable, had a tremendous lively +scramble back to the boat. These are the bits of our life which I +enjoy, which have some poetry, some grandeur in them. + +'May 29 (?). + +'Yesterday we ran round to the new harbour [of Alexandria], landed +the shore end of the cable close to Cleopatra's bath, and made a +very satisfactory start about one in the afternoon. We had +scarcely gone 200 yards when I noticed that the cable ceased to run +out, and I wondered why the ship had stopped. People ran aft to +tell me not to put such a strain on the cable; I answered +indignantly that there was no strain; and suddenly it broke on +every one in the ship at once that we were aground. Here was a +nice mess. A violent scirocco blew from the land; making one's +skin feel as if it belonged to some one else and didn't fit, making +the horizon dim and yellow with fine sand, oppressing every sense +and raising the thermometer 20 degrees in an hour, but making calm +water round us which enabled the ship to lie for the time in +safety. The wind might change at any moment, since the scirocco +was only accidental; and at the first wave from seaward bump would +go the poor ship, and there would [might] be an end of our voyage. +The captain, without waiting to sound, began to make an effort to +put the ship over what was supposed to be a sandbank; but by the +time soundings were made, this was found to be impossible, and he +had only been jamming the poor ELBA faster on a rock. Now every +effort was made to get her astern, an anchor taken out, a rope +brought to a winch I had for the cable, and the engines backed; but +all in vain. A small Turkish Government steamer, which is to be +our consort, came to our assistance, but of course very slowly, and +much time was occupied before we could get a hawser to her. I +could do no good after having made a chart of the soundings round +the ship, and went at last on to the bridge to sketch the scene. +But at that moment the strain from the winch and a jerk from the +Turkish steamer got off the boat, after we had been some hours +aground. The carpenter reported that she had made only two inches +of water in one compartment; the cable was still uninjured astern, +and our spirits rose; when, will you believe it? after going a +short distance astern, the pilot ran us once more fast aground on +what seemed to me nearly the same spot. The very same scene was +gone through as on the first occasion, and dark came on whilst the +wind shifted, and we were still aground. Dinner was served up, but +poor Mr. Liddell could eat very little; and bump, bump, grind, +grind, went the ship fifteen or sixteen times as we sat at dinner. +The slight sea, however, did enable us to bump off. This morning +we appear not to have suffered in any way; but a sea is rolling in, +which a few hours ago would have settled the poor old ELBA. + +'June -. + +'The Alexandria cable has again failed; after paying out two-thirds +of the distance successfully, an unlucky touch in deep water +snapped the line. Luckily the accident occurred in Mr. Liddell's +watch. Though personally it may not really concern me, the +accident weighs like a personal misfortune. Still I am glad I was +present: a failure is probably more instructive than a success; +and this experience may enable us to avoid misfortune in still +greater undertakings. + +'June -. + +'We left Syra the morning after our arrival on Saturday the 4th. +This we did (first) because we were in a hurry to do something and +(second) because, coming from Alexandria, we had four days' +quarantine to perform. We were all mustered along the side while +the doctor counted us; the letters were popped into a little tin +box and taken away to be smoked; the guardians put on board to see +that we held no communication with the shore - without them we +should still have had four more days' quarantine; and with twelve +Greek sailors besides, we started merrily enough picking up the +Canea cable. . . . To our utter dismay, the yarn covering began to +come up quite decayed, and the cable, which when laid should have +borne half a ton, was now in danger of snapping with a tenth part +of that strain. We went as slow as possible in fear of a break at +every instant. My watch was from eight to twelve in the morning, +and during that time we had barely secured three miles of cable. +Once it broke inside the ship, but I seized hold of it in time - +the weight being hardly anything - and the line for the nonce was +saved. Regular nooses were then planted inboard with men to draw +them taut, should the cable break inboard. A-, who should have +relieved me, was unwell, so I had to continue my look-out; and +about one o'clock the line again parted, but was again caught in +the last noose, with about four inches to spare. Five minutes +afterwards it again parted and was yet once more caught. Mr. +Liddell (whom I had called) could stand this no longer; so we +buoyed the line and ran into a bay in Siphano, waiting for calm +weather, though I was by no means of opinion that the slight sea +and wind had been the cause of our failures. - All next day +(Monday) we lay off Siphano, amusing ourselves on shore with +fowling pieces and navy revolvers. I need not say we killed +nothing; and luckily we did not wound any of ourselves. A +guardiano accompanied us, his functions being limited to preventing +actual contact with the natives, for they might come as near and +talk as much as they pleased. These isles of Greece are sad, +interesting places. They are not really barren all over, but they +are quite destitute of verdure; and tufts of thyme, wild mastic or +mint, though they sound well, are not nearly so pretty as grass. +Many little churches, glittering white, dot the islands; most of +them, I believe, abandoned during the whole year with the exception +of one day sacred to their patron saint. The villages are mean, +but the inhabitants do not look wretched and the men are good +sailors. There is something in this Greek race yet; they will +become a powerful Levantine nation in the course of time. - What a +lovely moonlight evening that was! the barren island cutting the +clear sky with fantastic outline, marble cliffs on either hand +fairly gleaming over the calm sea. Next day, the wind still +continuing, I proposed a boating excursion and decoyed A-, L-, and +S- into accompanying me. We took the little gig, and sailed away +merrily enough round a point to a beautiful white bay, flanked with +two glistening little churches, fronted by beautiful distant +islands; when suddenly, to my horror, I discovered the ELBA +steaming full speed out from the island. Of course we steered +after her; but the wind that instant ceased, and we were left in a +dead calm. There was nothing for it but to unship the mast, get +out the oars and pull. The ship was nearly certain to stop at the +buoy; and I wanted to learn how to take an oar, so here was a +chance with a vengeance! L- steered, and we three pulled - a +broiling pull it was about half way across to Palikandro - still we +did come in, pulling an uncommon good stroke, and I had learned to +hang on my oar. L- had pressed me to let him take my place; but +though I was very tired at the end of the first quarter of an hour, +and then every successive half hour, I would not give in. I nearly +paid dear for my obstinacy, however; for in the evening I had +alternate fits of shivering and burning.' + + +III. + + +The next extracts, and I am sorry to say the last, are from +Fleeming's letters of 1860, when he was back at Bona and +Spartivento and for the first time at the head of an expedition. +Unhappily these letters are not only the last, but the series is +quite imperfect; and this is the more to be lamented as he had now +begun to use a pen more skilfully, and in the following notes there +is at times a touch of real distinction in the manner. + +'Cagliari: October 5, 1860. + +'All Tuesday I spent examining what was on board the ELBA, and +trying to start the repairs of the Spartivento land line, which has +been entirely neglected, and no wonder, for no one has been paid +for three months, no, not even the poor guards who have to keep +themselves, their horses and their families, on their pay. +Wednesday morning, I started for Spartivento and got there in time +to try a good many experiments. Spartivento looks more wild and +savage than ever, but is not without a strange deadly beauty: the +hills covered with bushes of a metallic green with coppery patches +of soil in between; the valleys filled with dry salt mud and a +little stagnant water; where that very morning the deer had drunk, +where herons, curlews, and other fowl abound, and where, alas! +malaria is breeding with this rain. (No fear for those who do not +sleep on shore.) A little iron hut had been placed there since +1858; but the windows had been carried off, the door broken down, +the roof pierced all over. In it, we sat to make experiments; and +how it recalled Birkenhead! There was Thomson, there was my +testing board, the strings of gutta-percha; Harry P- even, +battering with the batteries; but where was my darling Annie? +Whilst I sat feet in sand, with Harry alone inside the hut -mats, +coats, and wood to darken the window - the others visited the +murderous old friar, who is of the order of Scaloppi, and for whom +I brought a letter from his superior, ordering him to pay us +attention; but he was away from home, gone to Cagliari in a boat +with the produce of the farm belonging to his convent. Then they +visited the tower of Chia, but could not get in because the door is +thirty feet off the ground; so they came back and pitched a +magnificent tent which I brought from the BAHIANA a long time ago - +and where they will live (if I mistake not) in preference to the +friar's, or the owl- and bat-haunted tower. MM. T- and S- will be +left there: T-, an intelligent, hard-working Frenchman, with whom +I am well pleased; he can speak English and Italian well, and has +been two years at Genoa. S- is a French German with a face like an +ancient Gaul, who has been sergeant-major in the French line and +who is, I see, a great, big, muscular FAINEANT. We left the tent +pitched and some stores in charge of a guide, and ran back to +Cagliari. + +'Certainly, being at the head of things is pleasanter than being +subordinate. We all agree very well; and I have made the testing +office into a kind of private room where I can come and write to +you undisturbed, surrounded by my dear, bright brass things which +all of them remind me of our nights at Birkenhead. Then I can work +here, too, and try lots of experiments; you know how I like that! +and now and then I read - Shakespeare principally. Thank you so +much for making me bring him: I think I must get a pocket edition +of Hamlet and Henry the Fifth, so as never to be without them. + +'Cagliari: October 7. + +'[The town was full?] . . . of red-shirted English Garibaldini. A +very fine looking set of fellows they are, too: the officers +rather raffish, but with medals Crimean and Indian; the men a very +sturdy set, with many lads of good birth I should say. They still +wait their consort the Emperor and will, I fear, be too late to do +anything. I meant to have called on them, but they are all gone +into barracks some way from the town, and I have been much too busy +to go far. + +'The view from the ramparts was very strange and beautiful. +Cagliari rises on a very steep rock, at the mouth of a wide plain +circled by large hills and three-quarters filled with lagoons; it +looks, therefore, like an old island citadel. Large heaps of salt +mark the border between the sea and the lagoons; thousands of +flamingoes whiten the centre of the huge shallow marsh; hawks hover +and scream among the trees under the high mouldering battlements. - +A little lower down, the band played. Men and ladies bowed and +pranced, the costumes posed, church bells tinkled, processions +processed, the sun set behind thick clouds capping the hills; I +pondered on you and enjoyed it all. + +'Decidedly I prefer being master to being man: boats at all hours, +stewards flying for marmalade, captain enquiring when ship is to +sail, clerks to copy my writing, the boat to steer when we go out - +I have run her nose on several times; decidedly, I begin to feel +quite a little king. Confound the cable, though! I shall never be +able to repair it. + +'Bona: October 14. + +'We left Cagliari at 4.30 on the 9th and soon got to Spartivento. +I repeated some of my experiments, but found Thomson, who was to +have been my grand stand-by, would not work on that day in the +wretched little hut. Even if the windows and door had been put in, +the wind which was very high made the lamp flicker about and blew +it out; so I sent on board and got old sails, and fairly wrapped +the hut up in them; and then we were as snug as could be, and I +left the hut in glorious condition with a nice little stove in it. +The tent which should have been forthcoming from the cure's for the +guards, had gone to Cagliari; but I found another, [a] green, +Turkish tent, in the ELBA and soon had him up. The square tent +left on the last occasion was standing all right and tight in spite +of wind and rain. We landed provisions, two beds, plates, knives, +forks, candles, cooking utensils, and were ready for a start at 6 +P.M.; but the wind meanwhile had come on to blow at such a rate +that I thought better of it, and we stopped. T- and S- slept +ashore, however, to see how they liked it, at least they tried to +sleep, for S- the ancient sergeant-major had a toothache, and T- +thought the tent was coming down every minute. Next morning they +could only complain of sand and a leaky coffee-pot, so I leave them +with a good conscience. The little encampment looked quite +picturesque: the green round tent, the square white tent and the +hut all wrapped up in sails, on a sand hill, looking on the sea and +masking those confounded marshes at the back. One would have +thought the Cagliaritans were in a conspiracy to frighten the two +poor fellows, who (I believe) will be safe enough if they do not go +into the marshes after nightfall. S- brought a little dog to amuse +them, such a jolly, ugly little cur without a tail, but full of +fun; he will be better than quinine. + +'The wind drove a barque, which had anchored near us for shelter, +out to sea. We started, however, at 2 P.M., and had a quick +passage but a very rough one, getting to Bona by daylight [on the +11th]. Such a place as this is for getting anything done! The +health boat went away from us at 7.30 with W- on board; and we +heard nothing of them till 9.30, when W- came back with two fat +Frenchmen who are to look on on the part of the Government. They +are exactly alike: only one has four bands and the other three +round his cap, and so I know them. Then I sent a boat round to +Fort Genois [Fort Genova of 1858], where the cable is landed, with +all sorts of things and directions, whilst I went ashore to see +about coals and a room at the fort. We hunted people in the little +square in their shops and offices, but only found them in cafes. +One amiable gentleman wasn't up at 9.30, was out at 10, and as soon +as he came back the servant said he would go to bed and not get up +till 3: he came, however, to find us at a cafe, and said that, on +the contrary, two days in the week he did not do so! Then my two +fat friends must have their breakfast after their "something" at a +cafe; and all the shops shut from 10 to 2; and the post does not +open till 12; and there was a road to Fort Genois, only a bridge +had been carried away, &c. At last I got off, and we rowed round +to Fort Genois, where my men had put up a capital gipsy tent with +sails, and there was my big board and Thomson's number 5 in great +glory. I soon came to the conclusion there was a break. Two of my +faithful Cagliaritans slept all night in the little tent, to guard +it and my precious instruments; and the sea, which was rather +rough, silenced my Frenchmen. + +'Next day I went on with my experiments, whilst a boat grappled for +the cable a little way from shore and buoyed it where the ELBA +could get hold. I brought all back to the ELBA, tried my machinery +and was all ready for a start next morning. But the wretched coal +had not come yet; Government permission from Algiers to be got; +lighters, men, baskets, and I know not what forms to be got or got +through - and everybody asleep! Coals or no coals, I was +determined to start next morning; and start we did at four in the +morning, picked up the buoy with our deck engine, popped the cable +across a boat, tested the wires to make sure the fault was not +behind us, and started picking up at 11. Everything worked +admirably, and about 2 P.M., in came the fault. There is no doubt +the cable was broken by coral fishers; twice they have had it up to +their own knowledge. + +'Many men have been ashore to-day and have come back tipsy, and the +whole ship is in a state of quarrel from top to bottom, and they +will gossip just within my hearing. And we have had, moreover, +three French gentlemen and a French lady to dinner, and I had to +act host and try to manage the mixtures to their taste. The good- +natured little Frenchwoman was most amusing; when I asked her if +she would have some apple tart - "MON DIEU," with heroic +resignation, "JE VEUX BIEN"; or a little PLOMBODDING - "MAIS CE QUE +VOUS VOUDREZ, MONSIEUR!" + +'S. S. ELBA, somewhere not far from Bona: Oct. 19. + +'Yesterday [after three previous days of useless grappling] was +destined to be very eventful. We began dredging at daybreak and +hooked at once every time in rocks; but by capital luck, just as we +were deciding it was no use to continue in that place, we hooked +the cable: up it came, was tested, and lo! another complete break, +a quarter of a mile off. I was amazed at my own tranquillity under +these disappointments, but I was not really half so fussy as about +getting a cab. Well, there was nothing for it but grappling again, +and, as you may imagine, we were getting about six miles from +shore. But the water did not deepen rapidly; we seemed to be on +the crest of a kind of submarine mountain in prolongation of Cape +de Gonde, and pretty havoc we must have made with the crags. What +rocks we did hook! No sooner was the grapnel down than the ship +was anchored; and then came such a business: ship's engines going, +deck engine thundering, belt slipping, fear of breaking ropes: +actually breaking grapnels. It was always an hour or more before +we could get the grapnel down again. At last we had to give up the +place, though we knew we were close to the cable, and go further to +sea in much deeper water; to my great fear, as I knew the cable was +much eaten away and would stand but little strain. Well, we hooked +the cable first dredge this time, and pulled it slowly and gently +to the top, with much trepidation. Was it the cable? was there any +weight on? it was evidently too small. Imagine my dismay when the +cable did come up, but hanging loosely, thus + +[Picture] + +instead of taut, thus + +[Picture] + +showing certain signs of a break close by. For a moment I felt +provoked, as I thought, "Here we are in deep water, and the cable +will not stand lifting!" I tested at once, and by the very first +wire found it had broken towards shore and was good towards sea. +This was of course very pleasant; but from that time to this, +though the wires test very well, not a signal has come from +Spartivento. I got the cable into a boat, and a gutta-percha line +from the ship to the boat, and we signalled away at a great rate - +but no signs of life. The tests, however, make me pretty sure one +wire at least is good; so I determined to lay down cable from where +we were to the shore, and go to Spartivento to see what had +happened there. I fear my men are ill. The night was lovely, +perfectly calm; so we lay close to the boat and signals were +continually sent, but with no result. This morning I laid the +cable down to Fort Genois in style; and now we are picking up odds +and ends of cable between the different breaks, and getting our +buoys on board, &c. To-morrow I expect to leave for Spartivento.' + + +IV. + + +And now I am quite at an end of journal keeping; diaries and diary +letters being things of youth which Fleeming had at length +outgrown. But one or two more fragments from his correspondence +may be taken, and first this brief sketch of the laying of the +Norderney cable; mainly interesting as showing under what defects +of strength and in what extremities of pain, this cheerful man must +at times continue to go about his work. + +'I slept on board 29th September having arranged everything to +start by daybreak from where we lay in the roads: but at daybreak +a heavy mist hung over us so that nothing of land or water could be +seen. At midday it lifted suddenly and away we went with perfect +weather, but could not find the buoys Forde left, that evening. I +saw the captain was not strong in navigation, and took matters next +day much more into my own hands and before nine o'clock found the +buoys; (the weather had been so fine we had anchored in the open +sea near Texel). It took us till the evening to reach the buoys, +get the cable on board, test the first half, speak to Lowestoft, +make the splice, and start. H- had not finished his work at +Norderney, so I was alone on board for Reuter. Moreover the buoys +to guide us in our course were not placed, and the captain had very +vague ideas about keeping his course; so I had to do a good deal, +and only lay down as I was for two hours in the night. I managed +to run the course perfectly. Everything went well, and we found +Norderney just where we wanted it next afternoon, and if the shore +end had been laid, could have finished there and then, October 1st. +But when we got to Norderney, we found the CAROLINE with shore end +lying apparently aground, and could not understand her signals; so +we had to anchor suddenly and I went off in a small boat with the +captain to the CAROLINE. It was cold by this time, and my arm was +rather stiff and I was tired; I hauled myself up on board the +CAROLINE by a rope and found H- and two men on board. All the rest +were trying to get the shore end on shore, but had failed and +apparently had stuck on shore, and the waves were getting up. We +had anchored in the right place and next morning we hoped the shore +end would be laid, so we had only to go back. It was of course +still colder and quite night. I went to bed and hoped to sleep, +but, alas, the rheumatism got into the joints and caused me +terrible pain so that I could not sleep. I bore it as long as I +could in order to disturb no one, for all were tired; but at last I +could bear it no longer and managed to wake the steward and got a +mustard poultice which took the pain from the shoulder; but then +the elbow got very bad, and I had to call the second steward and +get a second poultice, and then it was daylight, and I felt very +ill and feverish. The sea was now rather rough - too rough rather +for small boats, but luckily a sort of thing called a scoot came +out, and we got on board her with some trouble, and got on shore +after a good tossing about which made us all sea-sick. The cable +sent from the CAROLINE was just 60 yards too short and did not +reach the shore, so although the CAROLINE did make the splice late +that night, we could neither test nor speak. Reuter was at +Norderney, and I had to do the best I could, which was not much, +and went to bed early; I thought I should never sleep again, but in +sheer desperation got up in the middle of the night and gulped a +lot of raw whiskey and slept at last. But not long. A Mr. F- +washed my face and hands and dressed me: and we hauled the cable +out of the sea, and got it joined to the telegraph station, and on +October 3rd telegraphed to Lowestoft first and then to London. +Miss Clara Volkman, a niece of Mr. Reuter's, sent the first message +to Mrs. Reuter, who was waiting (Varley used Miss Clara's hand as a +kind of key), and I sent one of the first messages to Odden. I +thought a message addressed to him would not frighten you, and that +he would enjoy a message through Papa's cable. I hope he did. +They were all very merry, but I had been so lowered by pain that I +could not enjoy myself in spite of the success.' + + +V. + + +Of the 1869 cruise in the GREAT EASTERN, I give what I am able; +only sorry it is no more, for the sake of the ship itself, already +almost a legend even to the generation that saw it launched. + +'JUNE 17, 1869. - Here are the names of our staff in whom I expect +you to be interested, as future GREAT EASTERN stories may be full +of them: Theophilus Smith, a man of Latimer Clark's; Leslie C. +Hill, my prizeman at University College; Lord Sackville Cecil; +King, one of the Thomsonian Kings; Laws, goes for Willoughby Smith, +who will also be on board; Varley, Clark, and Sir James Anderson +make up the sum of all you know anything of. A Captain Halpin +commands the big ship. There are four smaller vessels. The WM. +CORY, which laid the Norderney cable, has already gone to St. +Pierre to lay the shore ends. The HAWK and CHILTERN have gone to +Brest to lay shore ends. The HAWK and SCANDERIA go with us across +the Atlantic and we shall at St. Pierre be transhipped into one or +the other. + +'JUNE 18. SOMEWHERE IN LONDON. - The shore end is laid, as you may +have seen, and we are all under pressing orders to march, so we +start from London to-night at 5.10. + +'June 20. OFF USHANT. - I am getting quite fond of the big ship. +Yesterday morning in the quiet sunlight, she turned so slowly and +lazily in the great harbour at Portland, and bye and bye slipped +out past the long pier with so little stir, that I could hardly +believe we were really off. No men drunk, no women crying, no +singing or swearing, no confusion or bustle on deck - nobody +apparently aware that they had anything to do. The look of the +thing was that the ship had been spoken to civilly and had kindly +undertaken to do everything that was necessary without any further +interference. I have a nice cabin with plenty of room for my legs +in my berth and have slept two nights like a top. Then we have the +ladies' cabin set apart as an engineer's office, and I think this +decidedly the nicest place in the ship: 35 ft. x 20 ft. broad - +four tables, three great mirrors, plenty of air and no heat from +the funnels which spoil the great dining-room. I saw a whole +library of books on the walls when here last, and this made me less +anxious to provide light literature; but alas, to-day I find that +they are every one bibles or prayer-books. Now one cannot read +many hundred bibles. . . . As for the motion of the ship it is not +very much, but 'twill suffice. Thomson shook hands and wished me +well. I DO like Thomson. . . . Tell Austin that the GREAT EASTERN +has six masts and four funnels. When I get back I will make a +little model of her for all the chicks and pay out cotton reels. . +. . Here we are at 4.20 at Brest. We leave probably to-morrow +morning. + +'JULY 12. GREAT EASTERN. - Here as I write we run our last course +for the buoy at the St. Pierre shore end. It blows and lightens, +and our good ship rolls, and buoys are hard to find; but we must +soon now finish our work, and then this letter will start for home. +. . . Yesterday we were mournfully groping our way through the wet +grey fog, not at all sure where we were, with one consort lost and +the other faintly answering the roar of our great whistle through +the mist. As to the ship which was to meet us, and pioneer us up +the deep channel, we did not know if we should come within twenty +miles of her; when suddenly up went the fog, out came the sun, and +there, straight ahead, was the WM. CORY, our pioneer, and a little +dancing boat, the GULNARE, sending signals of welcome with many- +coloured flags. Since then we have been steaming in a grand +procession; but now at 2 A.M. the fog has fallen, and the great +roaring whistle calls up the distant answering notes all around us. +Shall we, or shall we not find the buoy? + +'JULY 13. - All yesterday we lay in the damp dripping fog, with +whistles all round and guns firing so that we might not bump up +against one another. This little delay has let us get our reports +into tolerable order. We are now at 7 o'clock getting the cable +end again, with the main cable buoy close to us.' + +A TELEGRAM OF JULY 20: 'I have received your four welcome letters. +The Americans are charming people.' + + +VI. + + +And here to make an end are a few random bits about the cruise to +Pernambuco:- + +'PLYMOUTH, JUNE 21, 1873. - I have been down to the sea-shore and +smelt the salt sea and like it; and I have seen the HOOPER pointing +her great bow sea-ward, while light smoke rises from her funnels +telling that the fires are being lighted; and sorry as I am to be +without you, something inside me answers to the call to be off and +doing. + +'LALLA ROOKH. PLYMOUTH, JUNE 22. - We have been a little cruise in +the yacht over to the Eddystone lighthouse, and my sea-legs seem +very well on. Strange how alike all these starts are - first on +shore, steaming hot days with a smell of bone-dust and tar and salt +water; then the little puffing, panting steam-launch that bustles +out across a port with green woody sides, little yachts sliding +about, men-of-war training-ships, and then a great big black hulk +of a thing with a mass of smaller vessels sticking to it like +parasites; and that is one's home being coaled. Then comes the +Champagne lunch where everyone says all that is polite to everyone +else, and then the uncertainty when to start. So far as we know +NOW, we are to start to-morrow morning at daybreak; letters that +come later are to be sent to Pernambuco by first mail. . . . My +father has sent me the heartiest sort of Jack Tar's cheer. + +'S. S. HOOPER. OFF FUNCHAL, JUNE 29. - Here we are off Madeira at +seven o'clock in the morning. Thomson has been sounding with his +special toy ever since half-past three (1087 fathoms of water). I +have been watching the day break, and long jagged islands start +into being out of the dull night. We are still some miles from +land; but the sea is calmer than Loch Eil often was, and the big +HOOPER rests very contentedly after a pleasant voyage and +favourable breezes. I have not been able to do any real work +except the testing [of the cable], for though not sea-sick, I get a +little giddy when I try to think on board. . . . The ducks have +just had their daily souse and are quacking and gabbling in a +mighty way outside the door of the captain's deck cabin where I +write. The cocks are crowing, and new-laid eggs are said to be +found in the coops. Four mild oxen have been untethered and +allowed to walk along the broad iron decks - a whole drove of sheep +seem quite content while licking big lumps of bay salt. Two +exceedingly impertinent goats lead the cook a perfect life of +misery. They steal round the galley and WILL nibble the carrots or +turnips if his back is turned for one minute; and then he throws +something at them and misses them; and they scuttle off laughing +impudently, and flick one ear at him from a safe distance. This is +the most impudent gesture I ever saw. Winking is nothing to it. +The ear normally hangs down behind; the goat turns sideways to her +enemy - by a little knowing cock of the head flicks one ear over +one eye, and squints from behind it for half a minute - tosses her +head back, skips a pace or two further off, and repeats the +manoeuvre. The cook is very fat and cannot run after that goat +much. + +'PERNAMBUCO, AUG. 1. - We landed here yesterday, all well and cable +sound, after a good passage. . . . I am on familiar terms with +cocoa-nuts, mangoes, and bread-fruit trees, but I think I like the +negresses best of anything I have seen. In turbans and loose sea- +green robes, with beautiful black-brown complexions and a stately +carriage, they really are a satisfaction to my eye. The weather +has been windy and rainy; the HOOPER has to lie about a mile from +the town, in an open roadstead, with the whole swell of the +Atlantic driving straight on shore. The little steam launch gives +all who go in her a good ducking, as she bobs about on the big +rollers; and my old gymnastic practice stands me in good stead on +boarding and leaving her. We clamber down a rope ladder hanging +from the high stern, and then taking a rope in one hand, swing into +the launch at the moment when she can contrive to steam up under us +- bobbing about like an apple thrown into a tub all the while. The +President of the province and his suite tried to come off to a +State luncheon on board on Sunday; but the launch being rather +heavily laden, behaved worse than usual, and some green seas stove +in the President's hat and made him wetter than he had probably +ever been in his life; so after one or two rollers, he turned back; +and indeed he was wise to do so, for I don't see how he could have +got on board. . . . Being fully convinced that the world will not +continue to go round unless I pay it personal attention, I must run +away to my work.' + + + +CHAPTER VI. - 1869-1885. + + + +Edinburgh - Colleagues - FARRAGO VITAE - I. The Family Circle - +Fleeming and his Sons - Highland Life - The Cruise of the Steam +Launch - Summer in Styria - Rustic Manners - II. The Drama - +Private Theatricals - III. Sanitary Associations - The Phonograph - +IV. Fleeming's Acquaintance with a Student - His late Maturity of +Mind - Religion and Morality - His Love of Heroism - Taste in +Literature - V. His Talk - His late Popularity - Letter from M. +Trelat. + + +THE remaining external incidents of Fleeming's life, pleasures, +honours, fresh interests, new friends, are not such as will bear to +be told at any length or in the temporal order. And it is now time +to lay narration by, and to look at the man he was and the life he +lived, more largely. + +Edinburgh, which was thenceforth to be his home, is a metropolitan +small town; where college professors and the lawyers of the +Parliament House give the tone, and persons of leisure, attracted +by educational advantages, make up much of the bulk of society. +Not, therefore, an unlettered place, yet not pedantic, Edinburgh +will compare favourably with much larger cities. A hard and +disputatious element has been commented on by strangers: it would +not touch Fleeming, who was himself regarded, even in this +metropolis of disputation, as a thorny table-mate. To golf +unhappily he did not take, and golf is a cardinal virtue in the +city of the winds. Nor did he become an archer of the Queen's +Body-Guard, which is the Chiltern Hundreds of the distasted golfer. +He did not even frequent the Evening Club, where his colleague Tait +(in my day) was so punctual and so genial. So that in some ways he +stood outside of the lighter and kindlier life of his new home. I +should not like to say that he was generally popular; but there as +elsewhere, those who knew him well enough to love him, loved him +well. And he, upon his side, liked a place where a dinner party +was not of necessity unintellectual, and where men stood up to him +in argument. + +The presence of his old classmate, Tait, was one of his early +attractions to the chair; and now that Fleeming is gone again, Tait +still remains, ruling and really teaching his great classes. Sir +Robert Christison was an old friend of his mother's; Sir Alexander +Grant, Kelland, and Sellar, were new acquaintances and highly +valued; and these too, all but the last, have been taken from their +friends and labours. Death has been busy in the Senatus. I will +speak elsewhere of Fleeming's demeanour to his students; and it +will be enough to add here that his relations with his colleagues +in general were pleasant to himself. + +Edinburgh, then, with its society, its university work, its +delightful scenery, and its skating in the winter, was thenceforth +his base of operations. But he shot meanwhile erratic in many +directions: twice to America, as we have seen, on telegraph +voyages; continually to London on business; often to Paris; year +after year to the Highlands to shoot, to fish, to learn reels and +Gaelic, to make the acquaintance and fall in love with the +character of Highlanders; and once to Styria, to hunt chamois and +dance with peasant maidens. All the while, he was pursuing the +course of his electrical studies, making fresh inventions, taking +up the phonograph, filled with theories of graphic representation; +reading, writing, publishing, founding sanitary associations, +interested in technical education, investigating the laws of metre, +drawing, acting, directing private theatricals, going a long way to +see an actor - a long way to see a picture; in the very bubble of +the tideway of contemporary interests. And all the while he was +busied about his father and mother, his wife, and in particular his +sons; anxiously watching, anxiously guiding these, and plunging +with his whole fund of youthfulness into their sports and +interests. And all the while he was himself maturing - not in +character or body, for these remained young - but in the stocked +mind, in the tolerant knowledge of life and man, in pious +acceptance of the universe. Here is a farrago for a chapter: here +is a world of interests and activities, human, artistic, social, +scientific, at each of which he sprang with impetuous pleasure, on +each of which he squandered energy, the arrow drawn to the head, +the whole intensity of his spirit bent, for the moment, on the +momentary purpose. It was this that lent such unusual interest to +his society, so that no friend of his can forget that figure of +Fleeming coming charged with some new discovery: it is this that +makes his character so difficult to represent. Our fathers, upon +some difficult theme, would invoke the Muse; I can but appeal to +the imagination of the reader. When I dwell upon some one thing, +he must bear in mind it was only one of a score; that the +unweariable brain was teeming at the very time with other thoughts; +that the good heart had left no kind duty forgotten. + + +I. + + +In Edinburgh, for a considerable time, Fleeming's family, to three +generations, was united: Mr. and Mrs. Austin at Hailes, Captain +and Mrs. Jenkin in the suburb of Merchiston, Fleeming himself in +the city. It is not every family that could risk with safety such +close interdomestic dealings; but in this also Fleeming was +particularly favoured. Even the two extremes, Mr. Austin and the +Captain, drew together. It is pleasant to find that each of the +old gentlemen set a high value on the good looks of the other, +doubtless also on his own; and a fine picture they made as they +walked the green terrace at Hailes, conversing by the hour. What +they talked of is still a mystery to those who knew them; but Mr. +Austin always declared that on these occasions he learned much. To +both of these families of elders, due service was paid of +attention; to both, Fleeming's easy circumstances had brought joy; +and the eyes of all were on the grandchildren. In Fleeming's +scheme of duties, those of the family stood first; a man was first +of all a child, nor did he cease to be so, but only took on added +obligations, when he became in turn a father. The care of his +parents was always a first thought with him, and their +gratification his delight. And the care of his sons, as it was +always a grave subject of study with him, and an affair never +neglected, so it brought him a thousand satisfactions. 'Hard work +they are,' as he once wrote, 'but what fit work!' And again: 'O, +it's a cold house where a dog is the only representative of a +child!' Not that dogs were despised; we shall drop across the name +of Jack, the harum-scarum Irish terrier ere we have done; his own +dog Plato went up with him daily to his lectures, and still (like +other friends) feels the loss and looks visibly for the +reappearance of his master; and Martin, the cat, Fleeming has +himself immortalised, to the delight of Mr. Swinburne, in the +columns of the SPECTATOR. Indeed there was nothing in which men +take interest, in which he took not some; and yet always most in +the strong human bonds, ancient as the race and woven of delights +and duties. + +He was even an anxious father; perhaps that is the part where +optimism is hardest tested. He was eager for his sons; eager for +their health, whether of mind or body; eager for their education; +in that, I should have thought, too eager. But he kept a pleasant +face upon all things, believed in play, loved it himself, shared +boyishly in theirs, and knew how to put a face of entertainment +upon business and a spirit of education into entertainment. If he +was to test the progress of the three boys, this advertisement +would appear in their little manuscript paper:- 'Notice: The +Professor of Engineering in the University of Edinburgh intends at +the close of the scholastic year to hold examinations in the +following subjects: (1) For boys in the fourth class of the +Academy - Geometry and Algebra; (2) For boys at Mr. Henderson's +school - Dictation and Recitation; (3) For boys taught exclusively +by their mothers - Arithmetic and Reading.' Prizes were given; but +what prize would be so conciliatory as this boyish little joke? It +may read thin here; it would smack racily in the playroom. +Whenever his sons 'started a new fad' (as one of them writes to me) +they 'had only to tell him about it, and he was at once interested +and keen to help.' He would discourage them in nothing unless it +was hopelessly too hard for them; only, if there was any principle +of science involved, they must understand the principle; and +whatever was attempted, that was to be done thoroughly. If it was +but play, if it was but a puppetshow they were to build, he set +them the example of being no sluggard in play. When Frewen, the +second son, embarked on the ambitious design to make an engine for +a toy steamboat, Fleeming made him begin with a proper drawing - +doubtless to the disgust of the young engineer; but once that +foundation laid, helped in the work with unflagging gusto, +'tinkering away,' for hours, and assisted at the final trial 'in +the big bath' with no less excitement than the boy. 'He would take +any amount of trouble to help us,' writes my correspondent. 'We +never felt an affair was complete till we had called him to see, +and he would come at any time, in the middle of any work.' There +was indeed one recognised playhour, immediately after the despatch +of the day's letters; and the boys were to be seen waiting on the +stairs until the mail should be ready and the fun could begin. But +at no other time did this busy man suffer his work to interfere +with that first duty to his children; and there is a pleasant tale +of the inventive Master Frewen, engaged at the time upon a toy +crane, bringing to the study where his father sat at work a half- +wound reel that formed some part of his design, and observing, +'Papa, you might finiss windin' this for me; I am so very busy to- +day.' + +I put together here a few brief extracts from Fleeming's letters, +none very important in itself, but all together building up a +pleasant picture of the father with his sons. + +'JAN. 15TH, 1875. - Frewen contemplates suspending soap bubbles by +silk threads for experimental purposes. I don't think he will +manage that. Bernard' [the youngest] 'volunteered to blow the +bubbles with enthusiasm.' + +'JAN. 17TH. - I am learning a great deal of electrostatics in +consequence of the perpetual cross-examination to which I am +subjected. I long for you on many grounds, but one is that I may +not be obliged to deliver a running lecture on abstract points of +science, subject to cross- examination by two acute students. +Bernie does not cross-examine much; but if anyone gets discomfited, +he laughs a sort of little silver-whistle giggle, which is trying +to the unhappy blunderer.' + +'MAY 9TH. - Frewen is deep in parachutes. I beg him not to drop +from the top landing in one of his own making.' + +'JUNE 6TH, 1876. - Frewen's crank axle is a failure just at present +- but he bears up.' + +'JUNE 14TH. - The boys enjoy their riding. It gets them whole +funds of adventures. One of their caps falling off is matter for +delightful reminiscences; and when a horse breaks his step, the +occurrence becomes a rear, a shy, or a plunge as they talk it over. +Austin, with quiet confidence, speaks of the greater pleasure in +riding a spirited horse, even if he does give a little trouble. It +is the stolid brute that he dislikes. (N.B. You can still see six +inches between him and the saddle when his pony trots.) I listen +and sympathise and throw out no hint that their achievements are +not really great.' + +'JUNE 18TH. - Bernard is much impressed by the fact that I can be +useful to Frewen about the steamboat' [which the latter +irrepressible inventor was making]. 'He says quite with awe, "He +would not have got on nearly so well if you had not helped him."' + +'JUNE 27TH. - I do not see what I could do without Austin. He +talks so pleasantly and is so truly good all through.' + +'JUNE 27TH. - My chief difficulty with Austin is to get him +measured for a pair of trousers. Hitherto I have failed, but I +keep a stout heart and mean to succeed. Frewen the observer, in +describing the paces of two horses, says, "Polly takes twenty-seven +steps to get round the school. I couldn't count Sophy, but she +takes more than a hundred."' + +'FEB. 18TH, 1877. - We all feel very lonely without you. Frewen +had to come up and sit in my room for company last night and I +actually kissed him, a thing that has not occurred for years. +Jack, poor fellow, bears it as well as he can, and has taken the +opportunity of having a fester on his foot, so he is lame and has +it bathed, and this occupies his thoughts a good deal.' + +'FEB. 19TH. - As to Mill, Austin has not got the list yet. I think +it will prejudice him very much against Mill - but that is not my +affair. Education of that kind! . . . I would as soon cram my boys +with food and boast of the pounds they had eaten, as cram them with +literature.' + +But if Fleeming was an anxious father, he did not suffer his +anxiety to prevent the boys from any manly or even dangerous +pursuit. Whatever it might occur to them to try, he would +carefully show them how to do it, explain the risks, and then +either share the danger himself or, if that were not possible, +stand aside and wait the event with that unhappy courage of the +looker-on. He was a good swimmer, and taught them to swim. He +thoroughly loved all manly exercises; and during their holidays, +and principally in the Highlands, helped and encouraged them to +excel in as many as possible: to shoot, to fish, to walk, to pull +an oar, to hand, reef and steer, and to run a steam launch. In all +of these, and in all parts of Highland life, he shared delightedly. +He was well onto forty when he took once more to shooting, he was +forty-three when he killed his first salmon, but no boy could have +more single-mindedly rejoiced in these pursuits. His growing love +for the Highland character, perhaps also a sense of the difficulty +of the task, led him to take up at forty-one the study of Gaelic; +in which he made some shadow of progress, but not much: the +fastnesses of that elusive speech retaining to the last their +independence. At the house of his friend Mrs. Blackburn, who plays +the part of a Highland lady as to the manner born, he learned the +delightful custom of kitchen dances, which became the rule at his +own house and brought him into yet nearer contact with his +neighbours. And thus at forty-two, he began to learn the reel; a +study, to which he brought his usual smiling earnestness; and the +steps, diagrammatically represented by his own hand, are before me +as I write. + +It was in 1879 that a new feature was added to the Highland life: +a steam launch, called the PURGLE, the Styrian corruption of +Walpurga, after a friend to be hereafter mentioned. 'The steam +launch goes,' Fleeming wrote. 'I wish you had been present to +describe two scenes of which she has been the occasion already: +one during which the population of Ullapool, to a baby, was +harnessed to her hurrahing - and the other in which the same +population sat with its legs over a little pier, watching Frewen +and Bernie getting up steam for the first time.' The PURGLE was +got with educational intent; and it served its purpose so well, and +the boys knew their business so practically, that when the summer +was at an end, Fleeming, Mrs. Jenkin, Frewen the engineer, Bernard +the stoker, and Kenneth Robertson a Highland seaman, set forth in +her to make the passage south. The first morning they got from +Loch Broom into Gruinard bay, where they lunched upon an island; +but the wind blowing up in the afternoon, with sheets of rain, it +was found impossible to beat to sea; and very much in the situation +of castaways upon an unknown coast, the party landed at the mouth +of Gruinard river. A shooting lodge was spied among the trees; +there Fleeming went; and though the master, Mr. Murray, was from +home, though the two Jenkin boys were of course as black as +colliers, and all the castaways so wetted through that, as they +stood in the passage, pools formed about their feet and ran before +them into the house, yet Mrs. Murray kindly entertained them for +the night. On the morrow, however, visitors were to arrive; there +would be no room and, in so out-of-the-way a spot, most probably no +food for the crew of the PURGLE; and on the morrow about noon, with +the bay white with spindrift and the wind so strong that one could +scarcely stand against it, they got up steam and skulked under the +land as far as Sanda Bay. Here they crept into a seaside cave, and +cooked some food; but the weather now freshening to a gale, it was +plain they must moor the launch where she was, and find their way +overland to some place of shelter. Even to get their baggage from +on board was no light business; for the dingy was blown so far to +leeward every trip, that they must carry her back by hand along the +beach. But this once managed, and a cart procured in the +neighbourhood, they were able to spend the night in a pot-house on +Ault Bea. Next day, the sea was unapproachable; but the next they +had a pleasant passage to Poolewe, hugging the cliffs, the falling +swell bursting close by them in the gullies, and the black scarts +that sat like ornaments on the top of every stack and pinnacle, +looking down into the PURGLE as she passed. The climate of +Scotland had not done with them yet: for three days they lay +storm-stayed in Poolewe, and when they put to sea on the morning of +the fourth, the sailors prayed them for God's sake not to attempt +the passage. Their setting out was indeed merely tentative; but +presently they had gone too far to return, and found themselves +committed to double Rhu Reay with a foul wind and a cross sea. +From half-past eleven in the morning until half-past five at night, +they were in immediate and unceasing danger. Upon the least +mishap, the PURGLE must either have been swamped by the seas or +bulged upon the cliffs of that rude headland. Fleeming and +Robertson took turns baling and steering; Mrs. Jenkin, so violent +was the commotion of the boat, held on with both hands; Frewen, by +Robertson's direction, ran the engine, slacking and pressing her to +meet the seas; and Bernard, only twelve years old, deadly sea-sick, +and continually thrown against the boiler, so that he was found +next day to be covered with burns, yet kept an even fire. It was a +very thankful party that sat down that evening to meat in the Hotel +at Gairloch. And perhaps, although the thing was new in the +family, no one was much surprised when Fleeming said grace over +that meal. Thenceforward he continued to observe the form, so that +there was kept alive in his house a grateful memory of peril and +deliverance. But there was nothing of the muff in Fleeming; he +thought it a good thing to escape death, but a becoming and a +healthful thing to run the risk of it; and what is rarer, that +which he thought for himself, he thought for his family also. In +spite of the terrors of Rhu Reay, the cruise was persevered in and +brought to an end under happier conditions. + +One year, instead of the Highlands, Alt Aussee, in the Steiermark, +was chosen for the holidays; and the place, the people, and the +life delighted Fleeming. He worked hard at German, which he had +much forgotten since he was a boy; and what is highly +characteristic, equally hard at the patois, in which he learned to +excel. He won a prize at a Schutzen-fest; and though he hunted +chamois without much success, brought down more interesting game in +the shape of the Styrian peasants, and in particular of his gillie, +Joseph. This Joseph was much of a character; and his appreciations +of Fleeming have a fine note of their own. The bringing up of the +boys he deigned to approve of: 'FAST SO GUT WIE EIN BAUER,' was +his trenchant criticism. The attention and courtly respect with +which Fleeming surrounded his wife, was something of a puzzle to +the philosophic gillie; he announced in the village that Mrs. +Jenkin - DIE SILBERNE FRAU, as the folk had prettily named her from +some silver ornaments - was a 'GEBORENE GRAFIN' who had married +beneath her; and when Fleeming explained what he called the English +theory (though indeed it was quite his own) of married relations, +Joseph, admiring but unconvinced, avowed it was 'GAR SCHON.' +Joseph's cousin, Walpurga Moser, to an orchestra of clarionet and +zither, taught the family the country dances, the Steierisch and +the Landler, and gained their hearts during the lessons. Her +sister Loys, too, who was up at the Alp with the cattle, came down +to church on Sundays, made acquaintance with the Jenkins, and must +have them up to see the sunrise from her house upon the Loser, +where they had supper and all slept in the loft among the hay. The +Mosers were not lost sight of; Walpurga still corresponds with Mrs. +Jenkin, and it was a late pleasure of Fleeming's to choose and +despatch a wedding present for his little mountain friend. This +visit was brought to an end by a ball in the big inn parlour; the +refreshments chosen, the list of guests drawn up, by Joseph; the +best music of the place in attendance; and hosts and guests in +their best clothes. The ball was opened by Mrs. Jenkin dancing +Steierisch with a lordly Bauer, in gray and silver and with a +plumed hat; and Fleeming followed with Walpurga Moser. + +There ran a principle through all these holiday pleasures. In +Styria as in the Highlands, the same course was followed: Fleeming +threw himself as fully as he could into the life and occupations of +the native people, studying everywhere their dances and their +language, and conforming, always with pleasure, to their rustic +etiquette. Just as the ball at Alt Aussee was designed for the +taste of Joseph, the parting feast at Attadale was ordered in every +particular to the taste of Murdoch the Keeper. Fleeming was not +one of the common, so-called gentlemen, who take the tricks of +their own coterie to be eternal principles of taste. He was aware, +on the other hand, that rustic people dwelling in their own places, +follow ancient rules with fastidious precision, and are easily +shocked and embarrassed by what (if they used the word) they would +have to call the vulgarity of visitors from town. And he, who was +so cavalier with men of his own class, was sedulous to shield the +more tender feelings of the peasant; he, who could be so trying in +a drawing-room, was even punctilious in the cottage. It was in all +respects a happy virtue. It renewed his life, during these +holidays, in all particulars. It often entertained him with the +discovery of strange survivals; as when, by the orders of Murdoch, +Mrs. Jenkin must publicly taste of every dish before it was set +before her guests. And thus to throw himself into a fresh life and +a new school of manners was a grateful exercise of Fleeming's +mimetic instinct; and to the pleasures of the open air, of +hardships supported, of dexterities improved and displayed, and of +plain and elegant society, added a spice of drama. + + +II. + + +Fleeming was all his life a lover of the play and all that belonged +to it. Dramatic literature he knew fully. He was one of the not +very numerous people who can read a play: a knack, the fruit of +much knowledge and some imagination, comparable to that of reading +score. Few men better understood the artificial principles on +which a play is good or bad; few more unaffectedly enjoyed a piece +of any merit of construction. His own play was conceived with a +double design; for he had long been filled with his theory of the +true story of Griselda; used to gird at Father Chaucer for his +misconception; and was, perhaps first of all, moved by the desire +to do justice to the Marquis of Saluces, and perhaps only in the +second place, by the wish to treat a story (as he phrased it) like +a sum in arithmetic. I do not think he quite succeeded; but I must +own myself no fit judge. Fleeming and I were teacher and taught as +to the principles, disputatious rivals in the practice, of dramatic +writing. + +Acting had always, ever since Rachel and the Marseillaise, a +particular power on him. 'If I do not cry at the play,' he used to +say, 'I want to have my money back.' Even from a poor play with +poor actors, he could draw pleasure. 'Giacometti's ELISABETTA,' I +find him writing, 'fetched the house vastly. Poor Queen Elizabeth! +And yet it was a little good.' And again, after a night of +Salvini: 'I do not suppose any one with feelings could sit out +OTHELLO, if Iago and Desdemona were acted.' Salvini was, in his +view, the greatest actor he had seen. We were all indeed moved and +bettered by the visit of that wonderful man. - 'I declare I feel as +if I could pray!' cried one of us, on the return from HAMLET. - +'That is prayer,' said Fleeming. W. B. Hole and I, in a fine +enthusiasm of gratitude, determined to draw up an address to +Salvini, did so, and carried it to Fleeming; and I shall never +forget with what coldness he heard and deleted the eloquence of our +draft, nor with what spirit (our vanities once properly mortified) +he threw himself into the business of collecting signatures. It +was his part, on the ground of his Italian, to see and arrange with +the actor; it was mine to write in the ACADEMY a notice of the +first performance of MACBETH. Fleeming opened the paper, read so +far, and flung it on the floor. 'No,' he cried, 'that won't do. +You were thinking of yourself, not of Salvini!' The criticism was +shrewd as usual, but it was unfair through ignorance; it was not of +myself that I was thinking, but of the difficulties of my trade +which I had not well mastered. Another unalloyed dramatic pleasure +which Fleeming and I shared the year of the Paris Exposition, was +the MARQUIS DE VILLEMER, that blameless play, performed by +Madeleine Brohan, Delaunay, Worms, and Broisat - an actress, in +such parts at least, to whom I have never seen full justice +rendered. He had his fill of weeping on that occasion; and when +the piece was at an end, in front of a cafe, in the mild, midnight +air, we had our fill of talk about the art of acting. + +But what gave the stage so strong a hold on Fleeming was an +inheritance from Norwich, from Edward Barron, and from Enfield of +the SPEAKER. The theatre was one of Edward Barron's elegant +hobbies; he read plays, as became Enfield's son-in-law, with a good +discretion; he wrote plays for his family, in which Eliza Barron +used to shine in the chief parts; and later in life, after the +Norwich home was broken up, his little granddaughter would sit +behind him in a great armchair, and be introduced, with his stately +elocution, to the world of dramatic literature. From this, in a +direct line, we can deduce the charades at Claygate; and after +money came, in the Edinburgh days, that private theatre which took +up so much of Fleeming's energy and thought. The company - Mr. and +Mrs. R. O. Carter of Colwall, W. B. Hole, Captain Charles Douglas, +Mr. Kunz, Mr. Burnett, Professor Lewis Campbell, Mr. Charles +Baxter, and many more - made a charming society for themselves and +gave pleasure to their audience. Mr. Carter in Sir Toby Belch it +would be hard to beat. Mr. Hole in broad farce, or as the herald +in the TRACHINIAE, showed true stage talent. As for Mrs. Jenkin, +it was for her the rest of us existed and were forgiven; her powers +were an endless spring of pride and pleasure to her husband; he +spent hours hearing and schooling her in private; and when it came +to the performance, though there was perhaps no one in the audience +more critical, none was more moved than Fleeming. The rest of us +did not aspire so high. There were always five performances and +weeks of busy rehearsal; and whether we came to sit and stifle as +the prompter, to be the dumb (or rather the inarticulate) +recipients of Carter's dog whip in the TAMING OF THE SHREW, or +having earned our spurs, to lose one more illusion in a leading +part, we were always sure at least of a long and an exciting +holiday in mirthful company. + +In this laborious annual diversion, Fleeming's part was large. I +never thought him an actor, but he was something of a mimic, which +stood him in stead. Thus he had seen Got in Poirier; and his own +Poirier, when he came to play it, breathed meritoriously of the +model. The last part I saw him play was Triplet, and at first I +thought it promised well. But alas! the boys went for a holiday, +missed a train, and were not heard of at home till late at night. +Poor Fleeming, the man who never hesitated to give his sons a +chisel or a gun, or to send them abroad in a canoe or on a horse, +toiled all day at his rehearsal, growing hourly paler, Triplet +growing hourly less meritorious. And though the return of the +children, none the worse for their little adventure, brought the +colour back into his face, it could not restore him to his part. I +remember finding him seated on the stairs in some rare moment of +quiet during the subsequent performances. 'Hullo, Jenkin,' said I, +'you look down in the mouth.' - 'My dear boy,' said he, 'haven't +you heard me? I have not one decent intonation from beginning to +end.' + +But indeed he never supposed himself an actor; took a part, when he +took any, merely for convenience, as one takes a hand at whist; and +found his true service and pleasure in the more congenial business +of the manager. Augier, Racine, Shakespeare, Aristophanes in +Hookham Frere's translation, Sophocles and AEschylus in Lewis +Campbell's, such were some of the authors whom he introduced to his +public. In putting these upon the stage, he found a thousand +exercises for his ingenuity and taste, a thousand problems arising +which he delighted to study, a thousand opportunities to make these +infinitesimal improvements which are so much in art and for the +artist. Our first Greek play had been costumed by the professional +costumer, with unforgetable results of comicality and indecorum: +the second, the TRACHINIAE, of Sophocles, he took in hand himself, +and a delightful task he made of it. His study was then in +antiquarian books, where he found confusion, and on statues and +bas-reliefs, where he at last found clearness; after an hour or so +at the British Museum, he was able to master 'the chiton, sleeves +and all'; and before the time was ripe, he had a theory of Greek +tailoring at his fingers' ends, and had all the costumes made under +his eye as a Greek tailor would have made them. 'The Greeks made +the best plays and the best statues, and were the best architects: +of course, they were the best tailors, too,' said he; and was never +weary, when he could find a tolerant listener, of dwelling on the +simplicity, the economy, the elegance both of means and effect, +which made their system so delightful. + +But there is another side to the stage-manager's employment. The +discipline of acting is detestable; the failures and triumphs of +that business appeal too directly to the vanity; and even in the +course of a careful amateur performance such as ours, much of the +smaller side of man will be displayed. Fleeming, among conflicting +vanities and levities, played his part to my admiration. He had +his own view; he might be wrong; but the performances (he would +remind us) were after all his, and he must decide. He was, in this +as in all other things, an iron taskmaster, sparing not himself nor +others. If you were going to do it at all, he would see that it +was done as well as you were able. I have known him to keep two +culprits (and one of these his wife) repeating the same action and +the same two or three words for a whole weary afternoon. And yet +he gained and retained warm feelings from far the most of those who +fell under his domination, and particularly (it is pleasant to +remember) from the girls. After the slipshod training and the +incomplete accomplishments of a girls' school, there was something +at first annoying, at last exciting and bracing, in this high +standard of accomplishment and perseverance. + + +III. + + +It did not matter why he entered upon any study or employment, +whether for amusement like the Greek tailoring or the Highland +reels, whether from a desire to serve the public as with his +sanitary work, or in the view of benefiting poorer men as with his +labours for technical education, he 'pitched into it' (as he would +have said himself) with the same headlong zest. I give in the +Appendix a letter from Colonel Fergusson, which tells fully the +nature of the sanitary work and of Fleeming's part and success in +it. It will be enough to say here that it was a scheme of +protection against the blundering of builders and the dishonesty of +plumbers. Started with an eye rather to the houses of the rich, +Fleeming hoped his Sanitary Associations would soon extend their +sphere of usefulness and improve the dwellings of the poor. In +this hope he was disappointed; but in all other ways the scheme +exceedingly prospered, associations sprang up and continue to +spring up in many quarters, and wherever tried they have been found +of use. + +Here, then, was a serious employment; it has proved highly useful +to mankind; and it was begun besides, in a mood of bitterness, +under the shock of what Fleeming would so sensitively feel - the +death of a whole family of children. Yet it was gone upon like a +holiday jaunt. I read in Colonel Fergusson's letter that his +schoolmates bantered him when he began to broach his scheme; so did +I at first, and he took the banter as he always did with enjoyment, +until he suddenly posed me with the question: 'And now do you see +any other jokes to make? Well, then,' said he, 'that's all right. +I wanted you to have your fun out first; now we can be serious.' +And then with a glowing heat of pleasure, he laid his plans before +me, revelling in the details, revelling in hope. It was as he +wrote about the joy of electrical experiment. 'What shall I +compare them to? A new song? - a Greek play?' Delight attended +the exercise of all his powers; delight painted the future. Of +these ideal visions, some (as I have said) failed of their +fruition. And the illusion was characteristic. Fleeming believed +we had only to make a virtue cheap and easy, and then all would +practise it; that for an end unquestionably good, men would not +grudge a little trouble and a little money, though they might +stumble at laborious pains and generous sacrifices. He could not +believe in any resolute badness. 'I cannot quite say,' he wrote in +his young manhood, 'that I think there is no sin or misery. This I +can say: I do not remember one single malicious act done to +myself. In fact it is rather awkward when I have to say the Lord's +Prayer. I have nobody's trespasses to forgive.' And to the point, +I remember one of our discussions. I said it was a dangerous error +not to admit there were bad people; he, that it was only a +confession of blindness on our part, and that we probably called +others bad only so far as we were wrapped in ourselves and lacking +in the transmigratory forces of imagination. I undertook to +describe to him three persons irredeemably bad and whom he should +admit to be so. In the first case, he denied my evidence: 'You +cannot judge a man upon such testimony,' said he. For the second, +he owned it made him sick to hear the tale; but then there was no +spark of malice, it was mere weakness I had described, and he had +never denied nor thought to set a limit to man's weakness. At my +third gentleman, he struck his colours. 'Yes,' said he, 'I'm +afraid that is a bad man.' And then looking at me shrewdly: 'I +wonder if it isn't a very unfortunate thing for you to have met +him.' I showed him radiantly how it was the world we must know, +the world as it was, not a world expurgated and prettified with +optimistic rainbows. 'Yes, yes,' said he; 'but this badness is +such an easy, lazy explanation. Won't you be tempted to use it, +instead of trying to understand people?' + +In the year 1878, he took a passionate fancy for the phonograph: +it was a toy after his heart, a toy that touched the skirts of +life, art, and science, a toy prolific of problems and theories. +Something fell to be done for a University Cricket Ground Bazaar. +'And the thought struck him,' Mr. Ewing writes to me, 'to exhibit +Edison's phonograph, then the very newest scientific marvel. The +instrument itself was not to be purchased - I think no specimen had +then crossed the Atlantic - but a copy of the TIMES with an account +of it was at hand, and by the help of this we made a phonograph +which to our great joy talked, and talked, too, with the purest +American accent. It was so good that a second instrument was got +ready forthwith. Both were shown at the Bazaar: one by Mrs. +Jenkin to people willing to pay half a crown for a private view and +the privilege of hearing their own voices, while Jenkin, perfervid +as usual, gave half-hourly lectures on the other in an adjoining +room - I, as his lieutenant, taking turns. The thing was in its +way a little triumph. A few of the visitors were deaf, and hugged +the belief that they were the victims of a new kind of fancy-fair +swindle. Of the others, many who came to scoff remained to take +raffle tickets; and one of the phonographs was finally disposed of +in this way, falling, by a happy freak of the ballot-box, into the +hands of Sir William Thomson.' The other remained in Fleeming's +hands, and was a source of infinite occupation. Once it was sent +to London, 'to bring back on the tinfoil the tones of a lady +distinguished for clear vocalisations; at another time Sir Robert +Christison was brought in to contribute his powerful bass'; and +there scarcely came a visitor about the house, but he was made the +subject of experiment. The visitors, I am afraid, took their parts +lightly: Mr. Hole and I, with unscientific laughter, commemorating +various shades of Scotch accent, or proposing to 'teach the poor +dumb animal to swear.' But Fleeming and Mr. Ewing, when we +butterflies were gone, were laboriously ardent. Many thoughts that +occupied the later years of my friend were caught from the small +utterance of that toy. Thence came his inquiries into the roots of +articulate language and the foundations of literary art; his papers +on vowel sounds, his papers in the SATURDAY REVIEW upon the laws of +verse, and many a strange approximation, many a just note, thrown +out in talk and now forgotten. I pass over dozens of his +interests, and dwell on this trifling matter of the phonograph, +because it seems to me that it depicts the man. So, for Fleeming, +one thing joined into another, the greater with the less. He cared +not where it was he scratched the surface of the ultimate mystery - +in the child's toy, in the great tragedy, in the laws of the +tempest, or in the properties of energy or mass - certain that +whatever he touched, it was a part of life - and however he touched +it, there would flow for his happy constitution interest and +delight. 'All fables have their morals,' says Thoreau, 'but the +innocent enjoy the story.' There is a truth represented for the +imagination in these lines of a noble poem, where we are told, that +in our highest hours of visionary clearness, we can but + + +'see the children sport upon the shore +And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.' + + +To this clearness Fleeming had attained; and although he heard the +voice of the eternal seas and weighed its message, he was yet able, +until the end of his life, to sport upon these shores of death and +mystery with the gaiety and innocence of children. + + +IV. + + +It was as a student that I first knew Fleeming, as one of that +modest number of young men who sat under his ministrations in a +soul-chilling class-room at the top of the University buildings. +His presence was against him as a professor: no one, least of all +students, would have been moved to respect him at first sight: +rather short in stature, markedly plain, boyishly young in manner, +cocking his head like a terrier with every mark of the most +engaging vivacity and readiness to be pleased, full of words, full +of paradox, a stranger could scarcely fail to look at him twice, a +man thrown with him in a train could scarcely fail to be engaged by +him in talk, but a student would never regard him as academical. +Yet he had that fibre in him that order always existed in his +class-room. I do not remember that he ever addressed me in +language; at the least sign of unrest, his eye would fall on me and +I was quelled. Such a feat is comparatively easy in a small class; +but I have misbehaved in smaller classes and under eyes more +Olympian than Fleeming Jenkin's. He was simply a man from whose +reproof one shrank; in manner the least buckrammed of mankind, he +had, in serious moments, an extreme dignity of goodness. So it was +that he obtained a power over the most insubordinate of students, +but a power of which I was myself unconscious. I was inclined to +regard any professor as a joke, and Fleeming as a particularly good +joke, perhaps the broadest in the vast pleasantry of my curriculum. +I was not able to follow his lectures; I somehow dared not +misconduct myself, as was my customary solace; and I refrained from +attending. This brought me at the end of the session into a +relation with my contemned professor that completely opened my +eyes. During the year, bad student as I was, he had shown a +certain leaning to my society; I had been to his house, he had +asked me to take a humble part in his theatricals; I was a master +in the art of extracting a certificate even at the cannon's mouth; +and I was under no apprehension. But when I approached Fleeming, I +found myself in another world; he would have naught of me. 'It is +quite useless for YOU to come to me, Mr. Stevenson. There may be +doubtful cases, there is no doubt about yours. You have simply NOT +attended my class.' The document was necessary to me for family +considerations; and presently I stooped to such pleadings and rose +to such adjurations, as made my ears burn to remember. He was +quite unmoved; he had no pity for me. - 'You are no fool,' said he, +'and you chose your course.' I showed him that he had misconceived +his duty, that certificates were things of form, attendance a +matter of taste. Two things, he replied, had been required for +graduation, a certain competency proved in the final trials and a +certain period of genuine training proved by certificate; if he did +as I desired, not less than if he gave me hints for an examination, +he was aiding me to steal a degree. 'You see, Mr. Stevenson, these +are the laws and I am here to apply them,' said he. I could not +say but that this view was tenable, though it was new to me; I +changed my attack: it was only for my father's eye that I required +his signature, it need never go to the Senatus, I had already +certificates enough to justify my year's attendance. 'Bring them +to me; I cannot take your word for that,' said he. 'Then I will +consider.' The next day I came charged with my certificates, a +humble assortment. And when he had satisfied himself, 'Remember,' +said he, 'that I can promise nothing, but I will try to find a form +of words.' He did find one, and I am still ashamed when I think of +his shame in giving me that paper. He made no reproach in speech, +but his manner was the more eloquent; it told me plainly what a +dirty business we were on; and I went from his presence, with my +certificate indeed in my possession, but with no answerable sense +of triumph. That was the bitter beginning of my love for Fleeming; +I never thought lightly of him afterwards. + +Once, and once only, after our friendship was truly founded, did we +come to a considerable difference. It was, by the rules of poor +humanity, my fault and his. I had been led to dabble in society +journalism; and this coming to his ears, he felt it like a disgrace +upon himself. So far he was exactly in the right; but he was +scarce happily inspired when he broached the subject at his own +table and before guests who were strangers to me. It was the sort +of error he was always ready to repent, but always certain to +repeat; and on this occasion he spoke so freely that I soon made an +excuse and left the house with the firm purpose of returning no +more. About a month later, I met him at dinner at a common +friend's. 'Now,' said he, on the stairs, 'I engage you - like a +lady to dance - for the end of the evening. You have no right to +quarrel with me and not give me a chance.' I have often said and +thought that Fleeming had no tact; he belied the opinion then. I +remember perfectly how, so soon as we could get together, he began +his attack: 'You may have grounds of quarrel with me; you have +none against Mrs. Jenkin; and before I say another word, I want you +to promise you will come to HER house as usual.' An interview thus +begun could have but one ending: if the quarrel were the fault of +both, the merit of the reconciliation was entirely Fleeming's. + +When our intimacy first began, coldly enough, accidentally enough +on his part, he had still something of the Puritan, something of +the inhuman narrowness of the good youth. It fell from him slowly, +year by year, as he continued to ripen, and grow milder, and +understand more generously the mingled characters of men. In the +early days he once read me a bitter lecture; and I remember leaving +his house in a fine spring afternoon, with the physical darkness of +despair upon my eyesight. Long after he made me a formal +retractation of the sermon and a formal apology for the pain he had +inflicted; adding drolly, but truly, 'You see, at that time I was +so much younger than you!' And yet even in those days there was +much to learn from him; and above all his fine spirit of piety, +bravely and trustfully accepting life, and his singular delight in +the heroic. + +His piety was, indeed, a thing of chief importance. His views (as +they are called) upon religious matters varied much; and he could +never be induced to think them more or less than views. 'All dogma +is to me mere form,' he wrote; 'dogmas are mere blind struggles to +express the inexpressible. I cannot conceive that any single +proposition whatever in religion is true in the scientific sense; +and yet all the while I think the religious view of the world is +the most true view. Try to separate from the mass of their +statements that which is common to Socrates, Isaiah, David, St. +Bernard, the Jansenists, Luther, Mahomet, Bunyan - yes, and George +Eliot: of course you do not believe that this something could be +written down in a set of propositions like Euclid, neither will you +deny that there is something common and this something very +valuable. . . . I shall be sorry if the boys ever give a moment's +thought to the question of what community they belong to - I hope +they will belong to the great community.' I should observe that as +time went on his conformity to the church in which he was born grew +more complete, and his views drew nearer the conventional. 'The +longer I live, my dear Louis,' he wrote but a few months before his +death, 'the more convinced I become of a direct care by God - which +is reasonably impossible - but there it is.' And in his last year +he took the communion. + +But at the time when I fell under his influence, he stood more +aloof; and this made him the more impressive to a youthful atheist. +He had a keen sense of language and its imperial influence on men; +language contained all the great and sound metaphysics, he was wont +to say; and a word once made and generally understood, he thought a +real victory of man and reason. But he never dreamed it could be +accurate, knowing that words stand symbol for the indefinable. I +came to him once with a problem which had puzzled me out of +measure: what is a cause? why out of so many innumerable millions +of conditions, all necessary, should one be singled out and +ticketed 'the cause'? 'You do not understand,' said he. 'A cause +is the answer to a question: it designates that condition which I +happen to know and you happen not to know.' It was thus, with +partial exception of the mathematical, that he thought of all means +of reasoning: they were in his eyes but means of communication, so +to be understood, so to be judged, and only so far to be credited. +The mathematical he made, I say, exception of: number and measure +he believed in to the extent of their significance, but that +significance, he was never weary of reminding you, was slender to +the verge of nonentity. Science was true, because it told us +almost nothing. With a few abstractions it could deal, and deal +correctly; conveying honestly faint truths. Apply its means to any +concrete fact of life, and this high dialect of the wise became a +childish jargon. + +Thus the atheistic youth was met at every turn by a scepticism more +complete than his own, so that the very weapons of the fight were +changed in his grasp to swords of paper. Certainly the church is +not right, he would argue, but certainly not the anti-church +either. Men are not such fools as to be wholly in the wrong, nor +yet are they so placed as to be ever wholly in the right. +Somewhere, in mid air between the disputants, like hovering Victory +in some design of a Greek battle, the truth hangs undiscerned. And +in the meanwhile what matter these uncertainties? Right is very +obvious; a great consent of the best of mankind, a loud voice +within us (whether of God, or whether by inheritance, and in that +case still from God), guide and command us in the path of duty. He +saw life very simple; he did not love refinements; he was a friend +to much conformity in unessentials. For (he would argue) it is in +this life as it stands about us, that we are given our problem; the +manners of the day are the colours of our palette; they condition, +they constrain us; and a man must be very sure he is in the right, +must (in a favourite phrase of his) be 'either very wise or very +vain,' to break with any general consent in ethics. I remember +taking his advice upon some point of conduct. 'Now,' he said, 'how +do you suppose Christ would have advised you?' and when I had +answered that he would not have counselled me anything unkind or +cowardly, 'No,' he said, with one of his shrewd strokes at the +weakness of his hearer, 'nor anything amusing.' Later in life, he +made less certain in the field of ethics. 'The old story of the +knowledge of good and evil is a very true one,' I find him writing; +only (he goes on) 'the effect of the original dose is much worn +out, leaving Adam's descendants with the knowledge that there is +such a thing - but uncertain where.' His growing sense of this +ambiguity made him less swift to condemn, but no less stimulating +in counsel. 'You grant yourself certain freedoms. Very well,' he +would say, 'I want to see you pay for them some other way. You +positively cannot do this: then there positively must be something +else that you can do, and I want to see you find that out and do +it.' Fleeming would never suffer you to think that you were +living, if there were not, somewhere in your life, some touch of +heroism, to do or to endure. + +This was his rarest quality. Far on in middle age, when men begin +to lie down with the bestial goddesses, Comfort and Respectability, +the strings of his nature still sounded as high a note as a young +man's. He loved the harsh voice of duty like a call to battle. He +loved courage, enterprise, brave natures, a brave word, an ugly +virtue; everything that lifts us above the table where we eat or +the bed we sleep upon. This with no touch of the motive-monger or +the ascetic. He loved his virtues to be practical, his heroes to +be great eaters of beef; he loved the jovial Heracles, loved the +astute Odysseus; not the Robespierres and Wesleys. A fine buoyant +sense of life and of man's unequal character ran through all his +thoughts. He could not tolerate the spirit of the pick-thank; +being what we are, he wished us to see others with a generous eye +of admiration, not with the smallness of the seeker after faults. +If there shone anywhere a virtue, no matter how incongruously set, +it was upon the virtue we must fix our eyes. I remember having +found much entertainment in Voltaire's SAUL, and telling him what +seemed to me the drollest touches. He heard me out, as usual when +displeased, and then opened fire on me with red-hot shot. To +belittle a noble story was easy; it was not literature, it was not +art, it was not morality; there was no sustenance in such a form of +jesting, there was (in his favourite phrase) 'no nitrogenous food' +in such literature. And then he proceeded to show what a fine +fellow David was; and what a hard knot he was in about Bathsheba, +so that (the initial wrong committed) honour might well hesitate in +the choice of conduct; and what owls those people were who +marvelled because an Eastern tyrant had killed Uriah, instead of +marvelling that he had not killed the prophet also. 'Now if +Voltaire had helped me to feel that,' said he, 'I could have seen +some fun in it.' He loved the comedy which shows a hero human, and +yet leaves him a hero, and the laughter which does not lessen love. + +It was this taste for what is fine in human-kind, that ruled his +choice in books. These should all strike a high note, whether +brave or tender, and smack of the open air. The noble and simple +presentation of things noble and simple, that was the 'nitrogenous +food' of which he spoke so much, which he sought so eagerly, +enjoyed so royally. He wrote to an author, the first part of whose +story he had seen with sympathy, hoping that it might continue in +the same vein. 'That this may be so,' he wrote, 'I long with the +longing of David for the water of Bethlehem. But no man need die +for the water a poet can give, and all can drink it to the end of +time, and their thirst be quenched and the pool never dry - and the +thirst and the water are both blessed.' It was in the Greeks +particularly that he found this blessed water; he loved 'a fresh +air' which he found 'about the Greek things even in translations'; +he loved their freedom from the mawkish and the rancid. The tale +of David in the Bible, the ODYSSEY, Sophocles, AEschylus, +Shakespeare, Scott; old Dumas in his chivalrous note; Dickens +rather than Thackeray, and the TALE OF TWO CITIES out of Dickens: +such were some of his preferences. To Ariosto and Boccaccio he was +always faithful; BURNT NJAL was a late favourite; and he found at +least a passing entertainment in the ARCADIA and the GRAND CYRUS. +George Eliot he outgrew, finding her latterly only sawdust in the +mouth; but her influence, while it lasted, was great, and must have +gone some way to form his mind. He was easily set on edge, +however, by didactic writing; and held that books should teach no +other lesson but what 'real life would teach, were it as vividly +presented.' Again, it was the thing made that took him, the drama +in the book; to the book itself, to any merit of the making, he was +long strangely blind. He would prefer the AGAMEMNON in the prose +of Mr. Buckley, ay, to Keats. But he was his mother's son, +learning to the last. He told me one day that literature was not a +trade; that it was no craft; that the professed author was merely +an amateur with a door-plate. 'Very well,' said I, 'the first time +you get a proof, I will demonstrate that it is as much a trade as +bricklaying, and that you do not know it.' By the very next post, +a proof came. I opened it with fear; for he was indeed, as the +reader will see by these volumes, a formidable amateur; always +wrote brightly, because he always thought trenchantly; and +sometimes wrote brilliantly, as the worst of whistlers may +sometimes stumble on a perfect intonation. But it was all for the +best in the interests of his education; and I was able, over that +proof, to give him a quarter of an hour such as Fleeming loved both +to give and to receive. His subsequent training passed out of my +hands into those of our common friend, W. E. Henley. 'Henley and +I,' he wrote, 'have fairly good times wigging one another for not +doing better. I wig him because he won't try to write a real play, +and he wigs me because I can't try to write English.' When I next +saw him, he was full of his new acquisitions. 'And yet I have lost +something too,' he said regretfully. 'Up to now Scott seemed to me +quite perfect, he was all I wanted. Since I have been learning +this confounded thing, I took up one of the novels, and a great +deal of it is both careless and clumsy.' + + +V. + + +He spoke four languages with freedom, not even English with any +marked propriety. What he uttered was not so much well said, as +excellently acted: so we may hear every day the inexpressive +language of a poorly-written drama assume character and colour in +the hands of a good player. No man had more of the VIS COMICA in +private life; he played no character on the stage, as he could play +himself among his friends. It was one of his special charms; now +when the voice is silent and the face still, it makes it impossible +to do justice to his power in conversation. He was a delightful +companion to such as can bear bracing weather; not to the very +vain; not to the owlishly wise, who cannot have their dogmas +canvassed; not to the painfully refined, whose sentiments become +articles of faith. The spirit in which he could write that he was +'much revived by having an opportunity of abusing Whistler to a +knot of his special admirers,' is a spirit apt to be misconstrued. +He was not a dogmatist, even about Whistler. 'The house is full of +pretty things,' he wrote, when on a visit; 'but Mrs. -'s taste in +pretty things has one very bad fault: it is not my taste.' And +that was the true attitude of his mind; but these eternal +differences it was his joy to thresh out and wrangle over by the +hour. It was no wonder if he loved the Greeks; he was in many ways +a Greek himself; he should have been a sophist and met Socrates; he +would have loved Socrates, and done battle with him staunchly and +manfully owned his defeat; and the dialogue, arranged by Plato, +would have shown even in Plato's gallery. He seemed in talk +aggressive, petulant, full of a singular energy; as vain you would +have said as a peacock, until you trod on his toes, and then you +saw that he was at least clear of all the sicklier elements of +vanity. Soundly rang his laugh at any jest against himself. He +wished to be taken, as he took others, for what was good in him +without dissimulation of the evil, for what was wise in him without +concealment of the childish. He hated a draped virtue, and +despised a wit on its own defence. And he drew (if I may so +express myself) a human and humorous portrait of himself with all +his defects and qualities, as he thus enjoyed in talk the robust +sports of the intelligence; giving and taking manfully, always +without pretence, always with paradox, always with exuberant +pleasure; speaking wisely of what he knew, foolishly of what he +knew not; a teacher, a learner, but still combative; picking holes +in what was said even to the length of captiousness, yet aware of +all that was said rightly; jubilant in victory, delighted by +defeat: a Greek sophist, a British schoolboy. + +Among the legends of what was once a very pleasant spot, the old +Savile Club, not then divorced from Savile Row, there are many +memories of Fleeming. He was not popular at first, being known +simply as 'the man who dines here and goes up to Scotland'; but he +grew at last, I think, the most generally liked of all the members. +To those who truly knew and loved him, who had tasted the real +sweetness of his nature, Fleeming's porcupine ways had always been +a matter of keen regret. They introduced him to their own friends +with fear; sometimes recalled the step with mortification. It was +not possible to look on with patience while a man so lovable +thwarted love at every step. But the course of time and the +ripening of his nature brought a cure. It was at the Savile that +he first remarked a change; it soon spread beyond the walls of the +club. Presently I find him writing: 'Will you kindly explain what +has happened to me? All my life I have talked a good deal, with +the almost unfailing result of making people sick of the sound of +my tongue. It appeared to me that I had various things to say, and +I had no malevolent feelings, but nevertheless the result was that +expressed above. Well, lately some change has happened. If I talk +to a person one day, they must have me the next. Faces light up +when they see me. - "Ah, I say, come here," - "come and dine with +me." It's the most preposterous thing I ever experienced. It is +curiously pleasant. You have enjoyed it all your life, and +therefore cannot conceive how bewildering a burst of it is for the +first time at forty-nine.' And this late sunshine of popularity +still further softened him. He was a bit of a porcupine to the +last, still shedding darts; or rather he was to the end a bit of a +schoolboy, and must still throw stones, but the essential +toleration that underlay his disputatiousness, and the kindness +that made of him a tender sicknurse and a generous helper, shone +more conspicuously through. A new pleasure had come to him; and as +with all sound natures, he was bettered by the pleasure. + +I can best show Fleeming in this later stage by quoting from a +vivid and interesting letter of M. Emile Trelat's. Here, admirably +expressed, is how he appeared to a friend of another nation, whom +he encountered only late in life. M. Trelat will pardon me if I +correct, even before I quote him; but what the Frenchman supposed +to flow from some particular bitterness against France, was only +Fleeming's usual address. Had M. Trelat been Italian, Italy would +have fared as ill; and yet Italy was Fleeming's favourite country. + + +Vous savez comment j'ai connu Fleeming Jenkin! C'etait en Mai +1878. Nous etions tous deux membres du jury de l'Exposition +Universelle. On n'avait rien fait qui vaille a la premiere seance +de notre classe, qui avait eu lieu le matin. Tout le monde avait +parle et reparle pour ne rien dire. Cela durait depuis huit +heures; il etait midi. Je demandai la parole pour une motion +d'ordre, et je proposai que la seance fut levee a la condition que +chaque membre francais, EMPORTAT a dejeuner un jure etranger. +Jenkin applaudit. 'Je vous emimene dejeuner,' lui criai-je. 'Je +veux bien.' . . . Nous partimes; en chemin nous vous rencontrions; +il vous presente et nous allons dejeuner tous trois aupres du +Trocadero. + +Et, depuis ce temps, nous avons ete de vieux amis. Non seulement +nous passions nos journees au jury, ou nous etions toujours +ensemble, cote-a-cote. Mais nos habitudes s'etaient faites telles +que, non contents de dejeuner en face l'un de l'autre, je le +ramenais diner presque tous les jours chez moi. Cela dura une +quinzaine: puis il fut rappele en Angleterre. Mais il revint, et +nous fimes encore une bonne etape de vie intellectuelle, morale et +philosophique. Je crois qu'il me rendait deja tout ce que +j'eprouvais de sympathie et d'estime, et que je ne fus pas pour +rien dans son retour a Paris. + +Chose singuliere! nous nous etions attaches l'un a l'autre par les +sous-entendus bien plus que par la matiere de nos conversations. A +vrai dire, nous etions presque toujours en discussion; et il nous +arrivait de nous rire au nez l'un et l'autre pendant des heures, +tant nous nous etonnions reciproquement de la diversite de nos +points de vue. Je le trouvais si Anglais, et il me trouvais si +Francais! Il etait si franchement revolte de certaines choses +qu'il voyait chez nous, et je comprenais si mal certaines choses +qui se passaient chez vous! Rien de plus interessant que ces +contacts qui etaient des contrastes, et que ces rencontres d'idees +qui etaient des choses; rien de si attachant que les echappees de +coeur ou d'esprit auxquelles ces petits conflits donnaient a tout +moment cours. C'est dans ces conditions que, pendant son sejour a +Paris en 1878, je conduisis un peu partout mon nouvel ami. Nous +allmes chez Madame Edmond Adam, ou il vit passer beaucoup d'hommes +politiques avec lesquels il causa. Mais c'est chez les ministres +qu'il fut interesse. Le moment etait, d'ailleurs, curieux en +France. Je me rappelle que, lorsque je le presentai au Ministre du +Commerce, il fit cette spirituelle repartie: 'C'est la seconde +fois que je viens en France sous la Republique. La premiere fois, +c'etait en 1848, elle s'etait coiffee de travers: je suis bien +heureux de saluer aujourd'hui votre excellence, quand elle a mis +son chapeau droit.' Une fois je le menai voir couronner la Rosiere +de Nanterre. Il y suivit les ceremonies civiles et religieuses; il +y assista au banquet donne par le Maire; il y vit notre de Lesseps, +auquel il porta un toast. Le soir, nous revinmes tard a Paris; il +faisait chaud; nous etions un peu fatigues; nous entrmes dans un +des rares cafes encore ouverts. Il devint silencieux. - 'N'etes- +vous pas content de votre journee?' lui dis-je. - 'O, si! mais je +reflechis, et je me dis que vous etes un peuple gai - tous ces +braves gens etaient gais aujourd'hui. C'est une vertu, la gaiete, +et vous l'avez en France, cette vertu!' Il me disait cela +melancoliquement; et c'etait la premiere fois que je lui entendais +faire une louange adressee a la France. . . . Mais il ne faut pas +que vous voyiez la une plainte de ma part. Je serais un ingrat si +je me plaignais; car il me disait souvent: 'Quel bon Francais vous +faites!' Et il m'aimait a cause de cela, quoiqu'il semblt +n'ainier pas la France. C'etait la un trait de son originalite. +Il est vrai qu'il s'en tirait en disant que je ne ressemblai pas a +mes compatriotes, ce a quoi il ne connaissait rien! - Tout cela +etait fort curieux; car, moi-meme, je l'aimais quoiqu'il en et a +mon pays! + +En 1879 il amena son fils Austin a Paris. J'attirai celui-ci. Il +dejeunait avec moi deux fois par semaine. Je lui montrai ce +qu'etait l'intimite francaise en le tutoyant paternellement. Cela +reserra beaucoup nos liens d'intimite avec Jenkin. . . . Je fis +inviter mon ami au congres de l'ASSOCIATION FRANCAISE POUR +L'AVANCEMENT DES SCIENCES, qui se tenait a Rheims en 1880. Il y +vint. J'eus le plaisir de lui donner la parole dans la section du +genie civil et militaire, que je presidais. II y fit une tres +interessante communication, qui me montrait une fois de plus +l'originalite de ses vaes et la srete de sa science. C'est a +l'issue de ce congres que je passai lui faire visite a Rochefort, +ou je le trouvai installe en famille et ou je presentai pour la +premiere fois mes hommages a son eminente compagne. Je le vis la +sous un jour nouveau et touchant pour moi. Madame Jenkin, qu'il +entourait si galamment, et ses deux jeunes fils donnaient encore +plus de relief a sa personne. J'emportai des quelques heures que +je passai a cote de lui dans ce charmant paysage un souvenir emu. + +J'etais alle en Angleterre en 1882 sans pouvoir gagner Edimbourg. +J'y retournai en 1883 avec la commission d'assainissement de la +ville de Paris, dont je faisais partie. Jenkin me rejoignit. Je +le fis entendre par mes collegues; car il etait fondateur d'une +societe de salubrite. Il eut un grand succes parmi nous. Mais ce +voyaye me restera toujours en memoire parce que c'est la que se +fixa defenitivement notre forte amitie. Il m'invita un jour a +diner a son club et au moment de me faire asseoir a cote de lui, il +me retint et me dit: 'Je voudrais vous demander de m'accorder +quelque chose. C'est mon sentiment que nos relations ne peuvent +pas se bien continuer si vous ne me donnez pas la permission de +vous tutoyer. Voulez-vous que nous nous tutoyions?' Je lui pris +les mains et je lui dis qu'une pareille proposition venant d'un +Anglais, et d'un Anglais de sa haute distinction, c'etait une +victoire, dont je serais fier toute ma vie. Et nous commencions a +user de cette nouvelle forme dans nos rapports. Vous savez avec +quelle finesse il parlait le francais: comme il en connaissait +tous les tours, comme il jouait avec ses difficultes, et meme avec +ses petites gamineries. Je crois qu'il a ete heureux de pratiquer +avec moi ce tutoiement, qui ne s'adapte pas a l'anglais, et qui est +si francais. Je ne puis vous peindre l'etendue et la variete de +nos conversations de la soiree. Mais ce que je puis vous dire, +c'est que, sous la caresse du TU, nos idees se sont elevees. Nous +avions toujours beaucoup ri ensemble; mais nous n'avions jamais +laisse des banalites s'introduire dans nos echanges de pensees. Ce +soir-la, notre horizon intellectual s'est elargie, et nous y avons +pousse des reconnaissances profondes et lointaines. Apres avoir +vivement cause a table, nous avons longuement cause au salon; et +nous nous separions le soir a Trafalgar Square, apres avoir longe +les trotters, stationne aux coins des rues et deux fois rebrousse +chemie en nous reconduisant l'un l'autre. Il etait pres d'une +heure du matin! Mais quelle belle passe d'argumentation, quels +beaux echanges de sentiments, quelles fortes confidences +patriotiques nous avions fournies! J'ai compris ce soir la que +Jenkin ne detestait pas la France, et je lui serrai fort les mains +en l'embrassant. Nous nous quittions aussi amis qu'on puisse +l'etre; et notre affection s'etait par lui etendue et comprise dans +un TU francais. + + + +CHAPTER VII. 1875-1885. + + + +Mr Jenkin's Illness - Captain Jenkin - The Golden Wedding - Death +of Uncle John - Death of Mr. and Mrs. Austin - Illness and Death of +the Captain - Death of Mrs. Jenkin - Effect on Fleeming - +Telpherage - The End. + +AND now I must resume my narrative for that melancholy business +that concludes all human histories. In January of the year 1875, +while Fleeming's sky was still unclouded, he was reading Smiles. +'I read my engineers' lives steadily,' he writes, 'but find +biographies depressing. I suspect one reason to be that +misfortunes and trials can be graphically described, but happiness +and the causes of happiness either cannot be or are not. A grand +new branch of literature opens to my view: a drama in which people +begin in a poor way and end, after getting gradually happier, in an +ecstasy of enjoyment. The common novel is not the thing at all. +It gives struggle followed by relief. I want each act to close on +a new and triumphant happiness, which has been steadily growing all +the while. This is the real antithesis of tragedy, where things +get blacker and blacker and end in hopeless woe. Smiles has not +grasped my grand idea, and only shows a bitter struggle followed by +a little respite before death. Some feeble critic might say my new +idea was not true to nature. I'm sick of this old-fashioned notion +of art. Hold a mirror up, indeed! Let's paint a picture of how +things ought to be and hold that up to nature, and perhaps the poor +old woman may repent and mend her ways.' The 'grand idea' might be +possible in art; not even the ingenuity of nature could so round in +the actual life of any man. And yet it might almost seem to fancy +that she had read the letter and taken the hint; for to Fleeming +the cruelties of fate were strangely blended with tenderness, and +when death came, it came harshly to others, to him not unkindly. + +In the autumn of that same year 1875, Fleeming's father and mother +were walking in the garden of their house at Merchiston, when the +latter fell to the ground. It was thought at the time to be a +stumble; it was in all likelihood a premonitory stroke of palsy. +From that day, there fell upon her an abiding panic fear; that +glib, superficial part of us that speaks and reasons could allege +no cause, science itself could find no mark of danger, a son's +solicitude was laid at rest; but the eyes of the body saw the +approach of a blow, and the consciousness of the body trembled at +its coming. It came in a moment; the brilliant, spirited old lady +leapt from her bed, raving. For about six months, this stage of +her disease continued with many painful and many pathetic +circumstances; her husband who tended her, her son who was +unwearied in his visits, looked for no change in her condition but +the change that comes to all. 'Poor mother,' I find Fleeming +writing, 'I cannot get the tones of her voice out of my head. . . I +may have to bear this pain for a long time; and so I am bearing it +and sparing myself whatever pain seems useless. Mercifully I do +sleep, I am so weary that I must sleep.' And again later: 'I +could do very well, if my mind did not revert to my poor mother's +state whenever I stop attending to matters immediately before me.' +And the next day: 'I can never feel a moment's pleasure without +having my mother's suffering recalled by the very feeling of +happiness. A pretty, young face recalls hers by contrast - a +careworn face recalls it by association. I tell you, for I can +speak to no one else; but do not suppose that I wilfully let my +mind dwell on sorrow.' + +In the summer of the next year, the frenzy left her; it left her +stone deaf and almost entirely aphasic, but with some remains of +her old sense and courage. Stoutly she set to work with +dictionaries, to recover her lost tongues; and had already made +notable progress, when a third stroke scattered her acquisitions. +Thenceforth, for nearly ten years, stroke followed upon stroke, +each still further jumbling the threads of her intelligence, but by +degrees so gradual and with such partiality of loss and of +survival, that her precise state was always and to the end a matter +of dispute. She still remembered her friends; she still loved to +learn news of them upon the slate; she still read and marked the +list of the subscription library; she still took an interest in the +choice of a play for the theatricals, and could remember and find +parallel passages; but alongside of these surviving powers, were +lapses as remarkable, she misbehaved like a child, and a servant +had to sit with her at table. To see her so sitting, speaking with +the tones of a deaf mute not always to the purpose, and to remember +what she had been, was a moving appeal to all who knew her. Such +was the pathos of these two old people in their affliction, that +even the reserve of cities was melted and the neighbours vied in +sympathy and kindness. Where so many were more than usually +helpful, it is hard to draw distinctions; but I am directed and I +delight to mention in particular the good Dr. Joseph Bell, Mr. +Thomas, and Mr. Archibald Constable with both their wives, the Rev. +Mr. Belcombe (of whose good heart and taste I do not hear for the +first time - the news had come to me by way of the Infirmary), and +their next-door neighbour, unwearied in service, Miss Hannah Mayne. +Nor should I omit to mention that John Ruffini continued to write +to Mrs. Jenkin till his own death, and the clever lady known to the +world as Vernon Lee until the end: a touching, a becoming +attention to what was only the wreck and survival of their +brilliant friend. + +But he to whom this affliction brought the greatest change was the +Captain himself. What was bitter in his lot, he bore with unshaken +courage; only once, in these ten years of trial, has Mrs. Fleeming +Jenkin seen him weep; for the rest of the time his wife - his +commanding officer, now become his trying child - was served not +with patience alone, but with a lovely happiness of temper. He had +belonged all his life to the ancient, formal, speechmaking, +compliment-presenting school of courtesy; the dictates of this code +partook in his eyes of the nature of a duty; and he must now be +courteous for two. Partly from a happy illusion, partly in a +tender fraud, he kept his wife before the world as a still active +partner. When he paid a call, he would have her write 'with love' +upon a card; or if that (at the moment) was too much, he would go +armed with a bouquet and present it in her name. He even wrote +letters for her to copy and sign: an innocent substitution, which +may have caused surprise to Ruffini or to Vernon Lee, if they ever +received, in the hand of Mrs. Jenkin the very obvious reflections +of her husband. He had always adored this wife whom he now tended +and sought to represent in correspondence: it was now, if not +before, her turn to repay the compliment; mind enough was left her +to perceive his unwearied kindness; and as her moral qualities +seemed to survive quite unimpaired, a childish love and gratitude +were his reward. She would interrupt a conversation to cross the +room and kiss him. If she grew excited (as she did too often) it +was his habit to come behind her chair and pat her shoulder; and +then she would turn round, and clasp his hand in hers, and look +from him to her visitor with a face of pride and love; and it was +at such moments only that the light of humanity revived in her +eyes. It was hard for any stranger, it was impossible for any that +loved them, to behold these mute scenes, to recall the past, and +not to weep. But to the Captain, I think it was all happiness. +After these so long years, he had found his wife again; perhaps +kinder than ever before; perhaps now on a more equal footing; +certainly, to his eyes, still beautiful. And the call made on his +intelligence had not been made in vain. The merchants of Aux +Cayes, who had seen him tried in some 'counter-revolution' in 1845, +wrote to the consul of his 'able and decided measures,' 'his cool, +steady judgment and discernment' with admiration; and of himself, +as 'a credit and an ornament to H. M. Naval Service.' It is plain +he must have sunk in all his powers, during the years when he was +only a figure, and often a dumb figure, in his wife's drawing-room; +but with this new term of service, he brightened visibly. He +showed tact and even invention in managing his wife, guiding or +restraining her by the touch, holding family worship so arranged +that she could follow and take part in it. He took (to the world's +surprise) to reading - voyages, biographies, Blair's SERMONS, even +(for her letter's sake) a work of Vernon Lee's, which proved, +however, more than he was quite prepared for. He shone more, in +his remarkable way, in society; and twice he had a little holiday +to Glenmorven, where, as may be fancied, he was the delight of the +Highlanders. One of his last pleasures was to arrange his dining- +room. Many and many a room (in their wandering and thriftless +existence) had he seen his wife furnish with exquisite taste, and +perhaps with 'considerable luxury': now it was his turn to be the +decorator. On the wall he had an engraving of Lord Rodney's +action, showing the PROTHEE, his father's ship, if the reader +recollects; on either side of this on brackets, his father's sword, +and his father's telescope, a gift from Admiral Buckner, who had +used it himself during the engagement; higher yet, the head of his +grandson's first stag, portraits of his son and his son's wife, and +a couple of old Windsor jugs from Mrs. Buckner's. But his simple +trophy was not yet complete; a device had to be worked and framed +and hung below the engraving; and for this he applied to his +daughter-in-law: 'I want you to work me something, Annie. An +anchor at each side - an anchor - stands for an old sailor, you +know - stands for hope, you know - an anchor at each side, and in +the middle THANKFUL.' It is not easy, on any system of +punctuation, to represent the Captain's speech. Yet I hope there +may shine out of these facts, even as there shone through his own +troubled utterance, some of the charm of that delightful spirit. + +In 1881, the time of the golden wedding came round for that sad and +pretty household. It fell on a Good Friday, and its celebration +can scarcely be recalled without both smiles and tears. The +drawing-room was filled with presents and beautiful bouquets; +these, to Fleeming and his family, the golden bride and bridegroom +displayed with unspeakable pride, she so painfully excited that the +guests feared every moment to see her stricken afresh, he guiding +and moderating her with his customary tact and understanding, and +doing the honours of the day with more than his usual delight. +Thence they were brought to the dining-room, where the Captain's +idea of a feast awaited them: tea and champagne, fruit and toast +and childish little luxuries, set forth pell-mell and pressed at +random on the guests. And here he must make a speech for himself +and his wife, praising their destiny, their marriage, their son, +their daughter-in-law, their grandchildren, their manifold causes +of gratitude: surely the most innocent speech, the old, sharp +contemner of his innocence now watching him with eyes of +admiration. Then it was time for the guests to depart; and they +went away, bathed, even to the youngest child, in tears of +inseparable sorrow and gladness, and leaving the golden bride and +bridegroom to their own society and that of the hired nurse. + +It was a great thing for Fleeming to make, even thus late, the +acquaintance of his father; but the harrowing pathos of such scenes +consumed him. In a life of tense intellectual effort, a certain +smoothness of emotional tenor were to be desired; or we burn the +candle at both ends. Dr. Bell perceived the evil that was being +done; he pressed Mrs. Jenkin to restrain her husband from too +frequent visits; but here was one of those clear-cut, indubitable +duties for which Fleeming lived, and he could not pardon even the +suggestion of neglect. + +And now, after death had so long visibly but still innocuously +hovered above the family, it began at last to strike and its blows +fell thick and heavy. The first to go was uncle John Jenkin, taken +at last from his Mexican dwelling and the lost tribes of Israel; +and nothing in this remarkable old gentleman's life, became him +like the leaving of it. His sterling, jovial acquiescence in man's +destiny was a delight to Fleeming. 'My visit to Stowting has been +a very strange but not at all a painful one,' he wrote. 'In case +you ever wish to make a person die as he ought to die in a novel,' +he said to me, 'I must tell you all about my old uncle.' He was to +see a nearer instance before long; for this family of Jenkin, if +they were not very aptly fitted to live, had the art of manly +dying. Uncle John was but an outsider after all; he had dropped +out of hail of his nephew's way of life and station in society, and +was more like some shrewd, old, humble friend who should have kept +a lodge; yet he led the procession of becoming deaths, and began in +the mind of Fleeming that train of tender and grateful thought, +which was like a preparation for his own. Already I find him +writing in the plural of 'these impending deaths'; already I find +him in quest of consolation. 'There is little pain in store for +these wayfarers,' he wrote, 'and we have hope - more than hope, +trust.' + +On May 19, 1884, Mr. Austin was taken. He was seventy-eight years +of age, suffered sharply with all his old firmness, and died happy +in the knowledge that he had left his wife well cared for. This +had always been a bosom concern; for the Barrons were long-lived +and he believed that she would long survive him. But their union +had been so full and quiet that Mrs. Austin languished under the +separation. In their last years, they would sit all evening in +their own drawing-room hand in hand: two old people who, for all +their fundamental differences, had yet grown together and become +all the world in each other's eyes and hearts; and it was felt to +be a kind release, when eight months after, on January 14, 1885, +Eliza Barron followed Alfred Austin. 'I wish I could save you from +all pain,' wrote Fleeming six days later to his sorrowing wife, 'I +would if I could - but my way is not God's way; and of this be +assured, - God's way is best.' + +In the end of the same month, Captain Jenkin caught cold and was +confined to bed. He was so unchanged in spirit that at first there +seemed no ground of fear; but his great age began to tell, and +presently it was plain he had a summons. The charm of his sailor's +cheerfulness and ancient courtesy, as he lay dying, is not to be +described. There he lay, singing his old sea songs; watching the +poultry from the window with a child's delight; scribbling on the +slate little messages to his wife, who lay bed-ridden in another +room; glad to have Psalms read aloud to him, if they were of a +pious strain - checking, with an 'I don't think we need read that, +my dear,' any that were gloomy or bloody. Fleeming's wife coming +to the house and asking one of the nurses for news of Mrs. Jenkin, +'Madam, I do not know,' said the nurse; 'for I am really so carried +away by the Captain that I can think of nothing else.' One of the +last messages scribbled to his wife and sent her with a glass of +the champagne that had been ordered for himself, ran, in his most +finished vein of childish madrigal: 'The Captain bows to you, my +love, across the table.' When the end was near and it was thought +best that Fleeming should no longer go home but sleep at +Merchiston, he broke his news to the Captain with some trepidation, +knowing that it carried sentence of death. 'Charming, charming - +charming arrangement,' was the Captain's only commentary. It was +the proper thing for a dying man, of Captain Jenkin's school of +manners, to make some expression of his spiritual state; nor did he +neglect the observance. With his usual abruptness, 'Fleeming,' +said he, 'I suppose you and I feel about all this as two Christian +gentlemen should.' A last pleasure was secured for him. He had +been waiting with painful interest for news of Gordon and Khartoum; +and by great good fortune, a false report reached him that the city +was relieved, and the men of Sussex (his old neighbours) had been +the first to enter. He sat up in bed and gave three cheers for the +Sussex regiment. The subsequent correction, if it came in time, +was prudently withheld from the dying man. An hour before midnight +on the fifth of February, he passed away: aged eighty-four. + +Word of his death was kept from Mrs. Jenkin; and she survived him +no more than nine and forty hours. On the day before her death, +she received a letter from her old friend Miss Bell of Manchester, +knew the hand, kissed the envelope, and laid it on her heart; so +that she too died upon a pleasure. Half an hour after midnight, on +the eighth of February, she fell asleep: it is supposed in her +seventy-eighth year. + +Thus, in the space of less than ten months, the four seniors of +this family were taken away; but taken with such features of +opportunity in time or pleasant courage in the sufferer, that grief +was tempered with a kind of admiration. The effect on Fleeming was +profound. His pious optimism increased and became touched with +something mystic and filial. 'The grave is not good, the +approaches to it are terrible,' he had written in the beginning of +his mother's illness: he thought so no more, when he had laid +father and mother side by side at Stowting. He had always loved +life; in the brief time that now remained to him, he seemed to be +half in love with death. 'Grief is no duty,' he wrote to Miss +Bell; 'it was all too beautiful for grief,' he said to me; but the +emotion, call it by what name we please, shook him to his depths; +his wife thought he would have broken his heart when he must +demolish the Captain's trophy in the dining-room, and he seemed +thenceforth scarcely the same man. + +These last years were indeed years of an excessive demand upon his +vitality; he was not only worn out with sorrow, he was worn out by +hope. The singular invention to which he gave the name of +telpherage, had of late consumed his time, overtaxed his strength +and overheated his imagination. The words in which he first +mentioned his discovery to me - 'I am simply Alnaschar' - were not +only descriptive of his state of mind, they were in a sense +prophetic; since whatever fortune may await his idea in the future, +it was not his to see it bring forth fruit. Alnaschar he was +indeed; beholding about him a world all changed, a world filled +with telpherage wires; and seeing not only himself and family but +all his friends enriched. It was his pleasure, when the company +was floated, to endow those whom he liked with stock; one, at +least, never knew that he was a possible rich man until the grave +had closed over his stealthy benefactor. And however Fleeming +chafed among material and business difficulties, this rainbow +vision never faded; and he, like his father and his mother, may be +said to have died upon a pleasure. But the strain told, and he +knew that it was telling. 'I am becoming a fossil,' he had written +five years before, as a kind of plea for a holiday visit to his +beloved Italy. 'Take care! If I am Mr. Fossil, you will be Mrs. +Fossil, and Jack will be Jack Fossil, and all the boys will be +little fossils, and then we shall be a collection.' There was no +fear more chimerical for Fleeming; years brought him no repose; he +was as packed with energy, as fiery in hope, as at the first; +weariness, to which he began to be no stranger, distressed, it did +not quiet him. He feared for himself, not without ground, the fate +which had overtaken his mother; others shared the fear. In the +changed life now made for his family, the elders dead, the sons +going from home upon their education, even their tried domestic +(Mrs. Alice Dunns) leaving the house after twenty-two years of +service, it was not unnatural that he should return to dreams of +Italy. He and his wife were to go (as he told me) on 'a real +honeymoon tour.' He had not been alone with his wife 'to speak +of,' he added, since the birth of his children. But now he was to +enjoy the society of her to whom he wrote, in these last days, that +she was his 'Heaven on earth.' Now he was to revisit Italy, and +see all the pictures and the buildings and the scenes that he +admired so warmly, and lay aside for a time the irritations of his +strenuous activity. Nor was this all. A trifling operation was to +restore his former lightness of foot; and it was a renovated youth +that was to set forth upon this renacted honeymoon. + +The operation was performed; it was of a trifling character, it +seemed to go well, no fear was entertained; and his wife was +reading aloud to him as he lay in bed, when she perceived him to +wander in his mind. It is doubtful if he ever recovered a sure +grasp upon the things of life; and he was still unconscious when he +passed away, June the twelfth, 1885, in the fifty-third year of his +age. He passed; but something in his gallant vitality had +impressed itself upon his friends, and still impresses. Not from +one or two only, but from many, I hear the same tale of how the +imagination refuses to accept our loss and instinctively looks for +his reappearing, and how memory retains his voice and image like +things of yesterday. Others, the well-beloved too, die and are +progressively forgotten; two years have passed since Fleeming was +laid to rest beside his father, his mother, and his Uncle John; and +the thought and the look of our friend still haunt us. + + + +APPENDIX. + + + +NOTE ON THE CONTRIBUTIONS OF FLEEMING JENKIN TO ELECTRICAL AND +ENGINEERING SCIENCE. BY SIR WILLIAM THOMSON, F.R.S., LL D., ETC., +ETC. + +IN the beginning of the year 1859 my former colleague (the first +British University Professor of Engineering), Lewis Gordon, at that +time deeply engaged in the then new work of cable making and cable +laying, came to Glasgow to see apparatus for testing submarine +cables and signalling through them, which I had been preparing for +practical use on the first Atlantic cable, and which had actually +done service upon it, during the six weeks of its successful +working between Valencia and Newfoundland. As soon as he had seen +something of what I had in hand, he said to me, 'I would like to +show this to a young man of remarkable ability, at present engaged +in our works at Birkenhead.' Fleeming Jenkin was accordingly +telegraphed for, and appeared next morning in Glasgow. He remained +for a week, spending the whole day in my class-room and laboratory, +and thus pleasantly began our lifelong acquaintance. I was much +struck, not only with his brightness and ability, but with his +resolution to understand everything spoken of, to see if possible +thoroughly through every difficult question, and (no if about +this!) to slur over nothing. I soon found that thoroughness of +honesty was as strongly engrained in the scientific as in the moral +side of his character. + +In the first week of our acquaintance, the electric telegraph and, +particularly, submarine cables, and the methods, machines, and +instruments for laying, testing, and using them, formed naturally +the chief subject of our conversations and discussions; as it was +in fact the practical object of Jenkin's visit to me in Glasgow; +but not much of the week had passed before I found him remarkably +interested in science generally, and full of intelligent eagerness +on many particular questions of dynamics and physics. When he +returned from Glasgow to Birkenhead a correspondence commenced +between us, which was continued without intermission up to the last +days of his life. It commenced with a well-sustained fire of +letters on each side about the physical qualities of submarine +cables, and the practical results attainable in the way of rapid +signalling through them. Jenkin used excellently the valuable +opportunities for experiment allowed him by Newall, and his partner +Lewis Gordon, at their Birkenhead factory. Thus he began definite +scientific investigation of the copper resistance of the conductor, +and the insulating resistance and specific inductive capacity of +its gutta-percha coating, in the factory, in various stages of +manufacture; and he was the very first to introduce systematically +into practice the grand system of absolute measurement founded in +Germany by Gauss and Weber. The immense value of this step, if +only in respect to the electric telegraph, is amply appreciated by +all who remember or who have read something of the history of +submarine telegraphy; but it can scarcely be known generally how +much it is due to Jenkin. + +Looking to the article 'Telegraph (Electric)' in the last volume of +the old edition of the 'Encyclopaedia Britannica,' which was +published about the year 1861, we find on record that Jenkin's +measurements in absolute units of the specific resistance of pure +gutta-percha, and of the gutta-percha with Chatterton's compound +constituting the insulation of the Red Sea cable of 1859, are given +as the only results in the way of absolute measurements of the +electric resistance of an insulating material which had then been +made. These remarks are prefaced in the 'Encyclopaedia' article by +the following statement: 'No telegraphic testing ought in future +to be accepted in any department of telegraphic business which has +not this definite character; although it is only within the last +year that convenient instruments for working, in absolute measure, +have been introduced at all, and the whole system of absolute +measure is still almost unknown to practical electricians.' + +A particular result of great importance in respect to testing is +referred to as follows in the 'Encyclopaedia' article: 'The +importance of having results thus stated in absolute measure is +illustrated by the circumstance, that the writer has been able at +once to compare them, in the manner stated in a preceding +paragraph, with his own previous deductions from the testings of +the Atlantic cable during its manufacture in 1857, and with Weber's +measurements of the specific resistance of copper.' It has now +become universally adapted - first of all in England; twenty-two +years later by Germany, the country of its birth; and by France and +Italy, and all the other countries of Europe and America - +practically the whole scientific world - at the Electrical Congress +in Paris in the years 1882 and 1884. + +An important paper of thirty quarto pages published in the +'Transactions of the Royal Society' for June 19, 1862, under the +title 'Experimental Researches on the Transmission of Electric +Signals through submarine cables, Part I. Laws of Transmission +through various lengths of one cable, by Fleeming Jenkin, Esq., +communicated by C. Wheatstone, Esq., F.R.S.,' contains an account +of a large part of Jenkin's experimental work in the Birkenhead +factory during the years 1859 and 1860. This paper is called Part +I. Part II. alas never appeared, but something that it would have +included we can see from the following ominous statement which I +find near the end of Part I.: 'From this value, the +electrostatical capacity per unit of length and the specific +inductive capacity of the dielectric, could be determined. These +points will, however, be more fully treated of in the second part +of this paper.' Jenkin had in fact made a determination at +Birkenhead of the specific inductive capacity of gutta-percha, or +of the gutta-percha and Chatterton's compound constituting the +insulation of the cable, on which he experimented. This was the +very first true measurement of the specific inductive capacity of a +dielectric which had been made after the discovery by Faraday of +the existence of the property, and his primitive measurement of it +for the three substances, glass, shellac, and sulphur; and at the +time when Jenkin made his measurements the existence of specific +inductive capacity was either unknown, or ignored, or denied, by +almost all the scientific authorities of the day. + +The original determination of the microfarad, brought out under the +auspices of the British Association Committee on Electrical +Standards, is due to experimental work by Jenkin, described in a +paper, 'Experiments on Capacity,' constituting No. IV. of the +appendix to the Report presented by the Committee to the Dundee +Meeting of 1867. No other determination, so far as I know, of this +important element of electric measurement has hitherto been made; +and it is no small thing to be proud of in respect to Jenkin's fame +as a scientific and practical electrician that the microfarad which +we now all use is his. + +The British Association unit of electrical resistance, on which was +founded the first practical approximation to absolute measurement +on the system of Gauss and Weber, was largely due to Jenkin's zeal +as one of the originators, and persevering energy as a working +member, of the first Electrical Standards Committee. The +experimental work of first making practical standards, founded on +the absolute system, which led to the unit now known as the British +Association ohm, was chiefly performed by Clerk Maxwell and Jenkin. +The realisation of the great practical benefit which has resulted +from the experimental and scientific work of the Committee is +certainly in a large measure due to Jenkin's zeal and perseverance +as secretary, and as editor of the volume of Collected Reports of +the work of the Committee, which extended over eight years, from +1861 till 1869. The volume of Reports included Jenkin's Cantor +Lectures of January, 1866, 'On Submarine Telegraphy,' through which +the practical applications of the scientific principles for which +he had worked so devotedly for eight years became part of general +knowledge in the engineering profession. + +Jenkin's scientific activity continued without abatement to the +end. For the last two years of his life he was much occupied with +a new mode of electric locomotion, a very remarkable invention of +his own, to which he gave the name of 'Telpherage.' He persevered +with endless ingenuity in carrying out the numerous and difficult +mechanical arrangements essential to the project, up to the very +last days of his work in life. He had completed almost every +detail of the realisation of the system which was recently opened +for practical working at Glynde, in Sussex, four months after his +death. + +His book on 'Magnetism and Electricity,' published as one of +Longman's elementary series in 1873, marked a new departure in the +exposition of electricity, as the first text-book containing a +systematic application of the quantitative methods inaugurated by +the British Association Committee on Electrical Standards. In 1883 +the seventh edition was published, after there had already appeared +two foreign editions, one in Italian and the other in German. + +His papers on purely engineering subjects, though not numerous, are +interesting and valuable. Amongst these may be mentioned the +article 'Bridges,' written by him for the ninth edition of the +'Encyclopaedia Britannica,' and afterwards republished as a +separate treatise in 1876; and a paper 'On the Practical +Application of Reciprocal Figures to the Calculation of Strains in +Framework,' read before the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and +published in the 'Transactions' of that Society in 1869. But +perhaps the most important of all is his paper 'On the Application +of Graphic Methods to the Determination of the Efficiency of +Machinery,' read before the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and +published in the 'Transactions,' vol. xxviii. (1876-78), for which +he was awarded the Keith Gold Medal. This paper was a continuation +of the subject treated in 'Reulaux's Mechanism,' and, recognising +the value of that work, supplied the elements required to +constitute from Reulaux's kinematic system a full machine receiving +energy and doing work. + + + +II. + + + +NOTE ON THE WORK OF FLEEMING JENKIN IN CONNECTION WITH SANITARY +REFORM. BY LT. COL. ALEXANDER FERGUSSON. + +[This appendix is not included in the Project Gutenberg eText +because the UK volunteer could not locate a date of death for Lt. +Col. Alexander Fergusson - this is necessary for UK copyright +reasons. If anyone could help with this information please contact +ccx074@coventry.ac.uk] + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin + + + diff --git a/old/fleem10.zip b/old/fleem10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eba19ca --- /dev/null +++ b/old/fleem10.zip |
