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diff --git a/75204-0.txt b/75204-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b20c989 --- /dev/null +++ b/75204-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1737 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75204 *** + + + + + +[Illustration: + +CHAMBERS’S JOURNAL + +OF + +POPULAR + +LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART + +Fifth Series + +ESTABLISHED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, 1832 + +CONDUCTED BY R. CHAMBERS (SECUNDUS) + +NO. 146.—VOL. III. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1886. PRICE 1½_d._] + + + + +CAVE-HUNTING IN YORKSHIRE. + + +The finest county in all England is the great shire of York, with its +rugged coast, and its rolling plains dotted with many a noble church, +its wild moorlands and lofty fells, its fertile valleys with their +monastic ruins and crumbling castle-keeps. Every Yorkshireman is proud +of his county, whether he be foxhunting Squire, lord of thousands of +its acres, or merchant-prince—a brawny artisan, toiling in one of its +great manufacturing towns, or a stalwart dalesman—a miner drifting for +lead in the north-west, or a pitman burrowing for coal in the south—the +sturdy yeoman-farmer of the wolds, or bluff fisherman on the shores of +the wild North Sea—for is it not a very epitome of his country? + +Micklefell, Whernside, Ingleborough, Penyghent, and many a mountain +crest on the west, the bold chalk headland and wondrous caverns of +Flamborough, with the romantic stretch of cliffs round Robin Hood Bay +to eastward, afford scenery of the grandest description. Swaledale, +Teesdale, Wensleydale, Nidderdale, and Wharfedale, with the rich plain +of York beyond stretching away to the tilled slopes of the wolds and +Hambleton Hills, are gems of softer beauty. The big towns of Leeds, +Sheffield, Bradford, Wakefield, are seats of busy commerce, whose black +smoke pollutes the air, whilst the snorting engine and thundering +steam-hammer resound both night and day. The broad Humber bears on +its tide-ruffled bosom great fleets from Hull and Goole, which carry +their wares to every corner of the world. Fountains, Bolton, Rievaulx, +Kirkstall, Pervaulx, and lesser abbeys, tell of past glories; whilst +York, Ripon, Selby, Beverley, and Bridlington minsters are still +glories of to-day. The castles of York, Bolton, Knaresborough, Wressle, +Conisbrough, Pontefract, Helmsley, Scarborough, and other relics of +troublous times yet look down upon this peaceful nineteenth century. +The battlefields of Stamford Bridge, Northallerton, Wakefield, Towton, +and Marston Moor still speak of the share Yorkshire had in making +England’s history; and grand old York, with its ancient churches and +minster, its frowning Bars, and encircling city walls, recalls past +fame and grandeur, when the legions garrisoned it as ‘Eboracum,’ +the chief seat of the Roman power in Britain (when London was an +insignificant village) long before Saxon and Dane fought in the narrow +streets for possession of it as ‘Eoforwic.’ For the archæologist, the +botanist, the painter, and the sportsman, old ‘Eurewicshire’ is a happy +hunting-ground indeed; the antiquary and philologist alike find it a +rich storehouse of quaint customs and strange dialects; whilst to the +geologist and physiographist, it is a charming text-book, written in +bold graceful language, with many beautiful and wondrous illustrations. + +But besides all this, Yorkshire offers vast delights to the explorer +and lover of adventure, in the curious subterranean water-courses and +awesome caverns which abound in the limestone ranges of the north-west. +Less famous than the underground chambers of Derbyshire, they are yet +more numerous, and, with two or three exceptions, are utterly free from +the desecrating presence of the inveterate ‘guide,’ who rushes you +through them, working unseemly havoc the while with Queen’s English, as +he waves his tallow candle, and bids attention to the features of the +show. It is true that Clapham Cave and Stump Cross Caverns are regular +stock tourist properties, where the lessees give admission and provide +illuminants at a fixed charge per head; but he who would see the weird, +lonely passages of Ingleborough and Penyghent must find his own way, +and carry a goodly supply of candles with him, for the Great ‘Alum Pot’ +is not a Poole’s Cavern which glares bravely when the gas is turned +on; and no urchin hastens before to stick torches in the crevices +and fissures of Catknot Hole. The real cave-hunter will rejoice at +this, and fixing his headquarters at one of the little inns in the +neighbourhood, will don his canvas overalls and stiff felt hat, and go +forth jubilantly, well stocked with ‘dips’ and matches, not forgetting +luncheon and the cheering pipe. Of course, if the caves are only to be +viewed and peeped into, the ‘overalls’ are needless; but if a thorough +exploration is intended, then, in addition, a stout rope some twelve +yards long at least, and two companions, should be taken, for abrupt +descents occur which are impassable without a rope and strong arms to +hold it. + +Ingleborough, with its younger brother Simon Fell, is the central +landmark of the great cave district—a district lying between Penyghent +and Gragreth, Cam Fell, and the village of Clapham, and measuring +roughly nine miles square, which contains all the chief Yorkshire +caves and ‘pot holes,’ with the exception of a group in the limestone +at the head of Nidderdale—one or two at Settle and Kilnsey, and the +famous ‘Stump Cross’ Cavern, which lies a little off the mountain road +running over from Pateley Bridge into Wharfedale. The picturesque +village of Ingleton is a pleasant headquarters from which to see +Clapham and Yordas Caves, and whence Ingleborough and Whernside may +be ascended; but if intent on systematically doing the district, the +lonely _Gearstones Inn_, which stands on the moors some seven or +eight miles on the road which runs up Chapel-le-dale over to Hawes in +Wensleydale, is the best place to put up at. Here, within easy reach, +are Douk Caves, long water-worn tunnels piercing the limestone scaurs +which flank the Ingleborough range, wherein is nothing curious except +a circular opening like a well, which brings down a beam of light, and +gives a glimpse of blue sky thirty feet up through the rock. + +Higher up the scaurs are the curious holes, or ‘pots’ as they are +locally termed, ‘Meregill,’ Barefootwives, and Hardrawkin. The first +is a slit in the ground about forty yards long, ranging from two to +nine, and bridged now and again by stones and turf; and you can plumb +it to a depth of a hundred feet, fifty at least being under water. +Hardrawkin is a pot or fissure nine yards deep, which lies between two +narrow caves, both of which may be explored, though water often covers +the floors. Near the little gabled church of Chapel-le-dale, rendered +notable by Southey’s _Doctor_, is Wethercote, and its complements +Jingle and Hurtlepots, one of the sights of the district. The top of +Wethercote is level with the ground, about fifty yards long and sixteen +wide, though it narrows towards the ends. Descending fifty feet we come +upon a rough arch of rock, and passing under it, are in the middle of +the pot, and again descend until the bottom is reached, forty good +yards below the surface of the ground. Right in front and eighteen +yards above is an opening in the wall of rock; and from it a stream +of water leaps in a thundering cascade, filling the pot with spray, +and then diving with a shuddering rush into a low cave, disappears on +its underground course to Jingle and Hurtle Pots, three hundred yards +lower down the dale. The first of these is twenty yards long, and ten +to three broad and fifteen deep; and the last, twenty-five yards by +fifteen, and about twenty-five deep, with a sullen black pool nine or +ten yards deep, from which no outlet is apparent. When the stream is +low, it flows far out of sight; but after heavy rain, it can be heard +and seen swirling in the dark depths of these pots; and it ‘hurtles’ +out of, and thus gives name to, the larger of the two. But when the +‘floods are out,’ the sight is grand and terrible, for then Wethercote +fills entirely, and overflowing, foams a torrent down the mossy ravine +which scores the land above the unseen water-course below. In the +hillside at the back of Gearstones is a winding passage, Catknot Hole, +which a guide-book says ‘contains romantic cascades and precipices, +and is near four hundred yards long.’ Three of us struggled again into +our thick wet boots one evening, after dining sumptuously in the inn +kitchen upon ham and eggs, and having cajoled the buxom hostess into +presenting us each with a tallow dip of yellow hue and evil savour, +we forded the stream in the darkness, and groped our way into the +cavern’s mouth to view the said cascades. A stream flowing a foot deep +suggested the advisability of doffing boots and stockings in view of a +long tramp on the morrow. So, barefooted and with sputtering candles, +we began the ascent, and toiled on for fifty minutes, until the dips +being nearly used up, and the long passage—which was so narrow that it +was difficult to force an onward way—seeming to wind on for ever, the +retreat was sounded, and we struggled back, counting nine hundred paces +till we reached the entrance, with an ounce of candle among the three. +Of ‘cascades and precipices’ we saw never a sign; but on squeezing past +sharp bends, we plentifully plastered ourselves with soft calcareous +deposits, which our jackets showed next morning to be strongly +impregnated with oxide of iron. + +On the slopes of Penyghent are some half-dozen ‘pots,’ besides numerous +openings into the ground, each with a streamlet issuing from or else +plunging into it. The whole of this limestone district is, in fact, +completely honeycombed by hidden passages and water-worn channels, +and often a fall of roof lets daylight and the explorer into the dark +passages which pierce the hillsides in all directions. ‘Hull’ and +‘Hunt’ Pots are the finest and chief of the Penyghent series; the +former a huge quarry-like hole with perpendicular sides, some seventeen +yards long by thirty deep, and from ten to thirty wide, into which a +stream—or beck, as the local term is—leaps, making in floods a fine +fall. Hunt Pot is more curious, and really is a pot in the floor of a +pot; the upper one being about thirty yards by eighteen and ten deep, +and having in the centre a narrow chasm, five or six yards across at +the widest part, narrowing to three at a depth of twelve yards. Into +the narrow end, a beck from Penyghent’s bold crest falls, filling +the black depths with mist, till it reaches the bottom of the pot, +sixty-five yards below; and then it flows in darkness, crossing—so +tradition says—the stream from Hull Pot, until it issues in the valley +as Bransil Beck, and finds its way into the infant river Ribble. + +But the grandest of all these Ingleborough pots and caves, and the one +which offers the most risk, and needs withal a steady nerve as well +as a fearless heart if it is to be really seen and properly known, is +‘Alum Pot,’ lying on the north-west shoulder of Simon Fell, a mile +above the ruined and deserted village of Selside, whose roofless and +crumbling cottages and farmsteads are a fit prelude to the weird +loneliness and awesomeness which seem to cling about this great +chain of gloomy caverns. A rough stone wall has been built to protect +the main chasm, or Alum Pot proper; and clambering over its jagged +edges, we are face to face with a tremendous cleft, which can only be +described by the word awful—sixty yards long by from ten to twenty +wide. At the southern end, a beck comes sliding over the mossy edge, +and then leaps shuddering into unseen depths, whilst a thin cold mist +rises up out of the blackness. Across the pot, near the narrow end, +are two balks of timber, fixed years ago, when a party of gentlemen +descended this shaft; and carefully walking along them, we reach the +middle, and look down into the tremendous hole, and see nothing but +slimy walls of rock covered with lichens, and here and there great +hartstongues hanging in the gloom, and waving in a chill upcurrent of +air which blows steadily from the sunless depths. The first impression +is one of nameless dread and shrinking, an effect only heightened when +a large stone is dropped into the yawning gulf, and we strain ears +for six long seconds before it strikes at all; and then, for several +moments after, hear it falling still, rebounding lower and lower in +unknown abysses beneath the plank which holds us up. After gazing +steadily downwards until the eye becomes used to the chill gloom, we +catch sight of a sloping dark-green plain far below, from which a stone +will roll into deeper depths beneath, and see, some thirty yards down +the northern side, a huge dark arch, which ends a passage coming in +from the hillside. + +Without a very long stout rope, it is impossible to descend Alum Pot +from the bridge-balks; and to swing freely over a visible gulf which +is in all three hundred yards deep is a stiff trial for ordinary +nerves. So, rescaling the wall, we climb some hundred and fifty yards +westward up the hillside, until we come upon several openings in the +ground known collectively as Longchurn and Diccan Pots. Dropping into +the hollow, we see two passages leading in different directions, and +can hear in the unseen distance the roar of water on its way to Alum +Pot. About ten yards down, the lower passage joins one in which a +stream is foaming; and a piece of burning magnesium ribbon lights up +a goodly cavern, and shows a small cascade seven or eight feet high +which glistens milk-white in the brightness; and plunging into the cold +waters hurrying onwards, we follow them in their winding channel, often +down abrupt descents and tiny falls, for, say, sixty yards or more, +until a roomier passage strikes off to the right. The stream flows +straight on for some score yards, and then joins one which flows at +right angles on a lower level, coming from a more westerly direction. +If wading be a weakness, this route may be followed; but as underground +becks are decidedly cold, even in July, the drier and loftier channel +offers decided advantages. After many windings and one or two steep +drops, passing lesser openings which branch off on either hand, a large +and lofty chamber is reached, studded with rough rocks, terminating +in a black and apparently bottomless abyss, across which a gleam +of twilight struggles in from the Great Alum Pot through the arch, +which is seen when looking down from the bridge. This gulf is about +thirty-six yards deep, and is curiously divided down the middle by a +long thin rock, which is reached after a descent of some ten or twelve +yards, and affords a precarious resting-place before descending the +other fifteen yards, which brings us to the mossy sloping rock visible +from the top of the pot, and which crosses it at the northern end. +About thirty yards along this is a break where a rock slopes down to a +lower level, and forms a bridge over a depth of at least thirty-five +yards; but past this, the way is easy to the south end, where the +waterfall comes down from the edge of the pot, seventy yards above, +to fall still twenty yards before it strikes the rocks. Descending to +this level, a series of steps down yet six or seven yards leads to two +further falls of some thirty and ten feet each, and then the water goes +onward along a passage and disappears in darkness. + +The great descent of Alum Pot was made many years ago, when the balks +of timber already mentioned were thrown across at the top by several +gentlemen in the neighbourhood, and the engineers who were constructing +a line of railway near Settle. Upon the bridge thus formed a winch was +fixed, and the explorers were let down in a bucket, two at a time, +plumb seventy yards to the rocks where the waterfall strikes, thus +avoiding the long tiring descent of the passage from Longchurn. The +last fifty feet gave each bucket-load a drenching, for it brought them +directly under the falling water—a very effective douche-bath. Leaving +the pot, they followed the stream for forty yards down the passage +until they came into a lofty cavern where was a waterfall forty feet in +height, formed by another subterranean streamlet; and passing through +this, and continuing for thirty yards further, they reached a circular +hole where the water sank in a miniature whirlpool; and that was the +end of the mysterious Alum Pot. Where the water goes to, is uncertain; +it is said to flow under Selside village, and come to light again +either in a muddy pot called Footnaws, twelve yards deep; or else to +pass under the bed of the Ribble, and reappear in Turn Dub, a quiet +pool ten yards across, out of which a goodly stream flows steadily into +the river. One reason why the country-people hold Turn Dub to be the +outlet is that, when a marble quarry which lies just above Longchurn +Pot was being worked, the water in the Dub was milky and muddy like the +stream which flowed into Alum Pot. + +The next most curious group of caverns lies out of the Ingleborough +district altogether, at the head of Nidderdale, about the hamlets of +Middlesmoor and Lofthouse, where comfortable quarters may be had in +their unpretentious inns. On Howsteanbeck, which comes down a romantic +gorge, are several chambers easy of access; and in a field on the +Middlesmoor side is an opening which leads into a long underground +passage known as Eglin’s Hole, of unknown extent. The roof is in many +parts so low that crawling is an absolute necessity; and as the floor +is often covered with soft mud, and there is nothing particular to +see, no large chambers or curious formations, the time required for +this tunnel may be far more advantageously spent in exploring the most +famous and interesting cavern of all, ‘Goyden Pot,’ which lies two +miles above Lofthouse, close to the farmstead of Limley, and which +carries the river Nidd mysteriously underground to below Lofthouse +Church. The mouth of this miscalled ‘pot’ is at the foot of a cliff +seven or eight yards high, on the boulder-filled bed of what was the +river before it broke its way into the hillside, and which is swept +by a noisy torrent still in heavy floods, when the waters fill the +cavern to overflowing. A passage varying in height from two to five +yards, and about one hundred yards long, with offshoots running right +and left, leads, after several descending turns, into a huge chamber, +filled with the roar and unseen spray of falling waters; and magnesium +ribbon reveals a weird and frightful scene—a deep abyss in front and +below, a dome of blackness overhead, on the left a plunging cascade of +flashing water, twenty feet at least in height. Opposite and across +the yawning gulf, a dark archway marks where a passage leads higher up +into the mountain; whilst to right, the stream still foaming after its +leap, gurgles and rushes round a bend into a lower pitch-dark tunnel. +In dry weather, a descent can be made by the aid of a rope down the +side of the chasm, and the stream can be followed often waist-high for +a long distance. No one, in the memory of living man, has succeeded +in following the water into daylight; but it certainly has yet to be +proved that it cannot be done, and though twice baffled, we only wait a +favourable opportunity to make another determined attempt. Long settled +dry weather is absolutely necessary, as, owing to the steepness of the +sides of the narrow valley, a single thunder-shower will raise the +level of the river several feet in half an hour; and the tree-roots and +other massive debris which are plentifully wedged in the crevices of +the roof of the cavern are sufficient evidence of the undesirability of +being caught by the tide, so to speak, in Goyden Pot. + +Such are some of the Yorkshire caves; and those fond of adventure and +rough healthy scrambling will find many a day’s enjoyment therein, and +spend, moreover, many a pleasant hour amongst the sturdy dalesmen, +hearing quaint country legends, told in a dialect homely and rough, +and seeing something of what life is like unaffected by the hurry of +the great world outside the hills around. But let not the fastidious +venture in those wilds, for ham and eggs—eggs and ham—become monotonous +when doing duty daily for breakfast, luncheon, dinner; and though +hospitable and open-hearted enough, yet the dalesfolk look upon all, +even Yorkshiremen who are not natives, as ‘furiners.’ + + + + +BY ORDER OF THE LEAGUE. + + +CHAPTER VII. + +It was a little after five on the following afternoon that Sir Geoffrey +walked from his house into the square. He seemed, by his uneasy air, +as if he was afraid of having his movements watched, for he stopped, +hesitated, and finally walked away quickly in the direction of Upper +Brook Street. Calling a hansom, he was driven to one of the quiet +approaches, half town, half country, beyond Paddington, where he +dismissed his cab. He then walked quickly on till he reached his +destination—a well-appointed though sombre-looking establishment; and +there, after some hesitation, he knocked. The room he was shown into +was laid out with preparations for dinner; and just as the little clock +over the mantel struck the half-hour after six, Le Gautier entered. He +greeted his guest quietly, almost coldly, and rang the bell to order +the meal. It was a quiet little dinner, really irreproachable in its +way—the appropriate wines being perfect, for Le Gautier by no means +despised the pleasures of the table, and, moreover, was not the man to +spare where he had a purpose to serve. + +‘Well, Sir Geoffrey,’ he said, toying with his glass, when the meal +had concluded—it was past eight now, and the light was beginning to +fail—‘do you feel equal to the coming trial?’ + +‘O yes,’ the baronet replied eagerly, though his face was perturbed +and the glass in his hand shook. ‘Let us get it over; this suspense is +killing me. Sometimes I fancy you are playing some devilish arts upon +me. I doubt the evidence of my senses.’ + +‘You do not doubt,’ Le Gautier answered sternly. ‘Listen!’ + +The light in the room was fading, and nothing distinctly could be +seen save the glimmer of the waning day upon glass and silver. At the +moment, the strains of music were heard, low and soft at first, then +swelling louder, but always melancholy. It was quite impossible to tell +whence it came—it seemed to strike the ear as if the earth was full of +the sweet sounds. Suddenly it ceased, and a sigh like a mournful wind +broke the stillness. + +‘It might be my dead brother himself playing,’ Sir Geoffrey said, in +great agitation. ‘The organ was his favourite instrument. Strange that +the music should be so familiar to me!’ + +‘Do you doubt now? Le Gautier asked. ‘Does your unbelieving mind still +run upon trickery or mechanism, or are you convinced?’ + +‘I must believe,’ the weak old man replied; ‘I have no alternative. I +put myself in your hands. Tell me what I am to do.’ + +‘Your own conscience must guide you, and what the spirits will to-night +must be obeyed. It is no question for me to decide; I am merely the +humble instrument, the medium between one world and another. I dare not +advise you. When your nerves are sufficiently braced to meet the dead, +I will restore the communication.—Are you afraid?’ + +‘No, no!’ cried the baronet; ‘I am not afraid.’ + +A cold, icy hand touched him on the cheek, and a low voice whispered +in his ear the words: ‘You are!’ Trembling, frightened, he rose from +his chair; and then suddenly the room was filled with a great light, +showing the baronet’s set face, and Le Gautier’s pallid features +wearing a sardonic smile. Hardly had the light appeared, when it was +gone, leaving the room in double darkness at the change. A yell of +harsh, discordant laughter rang out, dying away to a moan. + +‘What is that, Le Gautier?’ Sir Geoffrey asked. ‘Is this all real, or +am I merely dreaming?’ + +‘The spirits laugh at your audacity. You boasted you were not afraid, +whilst you are trembling in every limb. You dare not say it again!’ + +‘I am alarmed, mystified,’ he said; ‘but I am not afraid.’ + +A mocking shout of laughter followed this speech, and the words, ‘You +lie!’ as if uttered in chorus, were distinctly heard. A cold hand +clutched Sir Geoffrey by the throat, holding him till he could hardly +breathe. In his intense agitation, he snatched at a shadowy arm, and +suddenly the hand relaxed its grip. Le Gautier struck a match and +lighted the candles. + +‘Are you afraid now?’ he asked quietly. + +‘O yes, yes; anything to save me from that horrid grasp! My throat is +aching with the pressure.’ + +Le Gautier looked at the finger-marks calmly. He was acting splendidly, +not overdoing the affair in the slightest, and, on the other hand, not +appearing altogether indifferent. He was playing for a high stake, and +it required all his cunning, all his cool audacity, to win. To the +casual observer, he might have been an enthusiastic believer. + +‘You have seen enough,’ he commenced quietly, but with an air of the +most profound conviction—‘you have seen enough to know that the time +for delay is past, and the hour for action has arrived. The spirits +to-night are incensed with you; they are furious at this delay; and +unless you solemnly promise to carry out my proposals, I shall not risk +our lives by any manifestation to-night.’ + +‘What am I to do?’ Sir Geoffrey cried piteously. ‘I put myself entirely +in your hands. Tell me my duty, and I promise to follow it.’ + +‘So much the better for you,’ quoth Le Gautier sternly. ‘Listen! You +know I am a member of a great Secret Society. In the first place, you +must join that; and let me tell you, your late brother was a member, +and took the keenest interest in its movements. You must join!’ + +‘I knew my brother was embroiled in some rascally Socialist plots,’ +said Sir Geoffrey incautiously; ‘but I really do not see why I’—— He +stopped abruptly, for the same mournful sigh was heard, and a voice +whispered in the air, ‘Beware!’ With increased agitation, he continued: +‘If that is part of my penance, I must do so; though it is on the +strict understanding that I’—— + +‘It is on no understanding at all!’ Le Gautier thundered. ‘Who are you, +poor mortal, that you should make stipulations? We must have all or +nothing. Take it, or leave it!’ + +He looked straight across into the other’s face, his eyes burning with +their intensity. For a moment they sat thus, striving for the mastery. +Then Sir Geoffrey looked away. He was conquered. + +‘Let it be so,’ he said. ‘Your will has conquered mine. Proceed, for I +see you have something more yet to say.’ + +Again the sigh was heard, and a voice said distinctly: ‘It is well.’ +The music burst out again triumphant this time. When the last pealing +strains died away, Le Gautier continued: ‘Your brother died at New +York, as you know; but at that time, he was on the business of the +Society. No man had his heart so firmly set upon the cause as he, no +man has been so missed. You would never be able to take his place; but +you can help us indirectly; you can aid us with what we most need, and +that is money. You shall see the shade of Sir Ughtred presently, and +hold converse with him; but, on the peril of your life, do not move +from the spot where I shall place you.’ + +‘Let us go now,’ Sir Geoffrey cried eagerly. ‘Why should we waste any +more time talking here?’ + +‘Because things are not prepared. The shades from another world do not +come forth at a moment’s bidding to show themselves to mortal eyes, +though the air is full of them now.’ + +Sir Geoffrey looked uneasily around for any traces of these ghostly +visitors, though he could see nothing; nevertheless, the idea of a +chamber full of supernatural bodies was by no means pleasant. + +‘Then our pact is complete,’ Le Gautier continued. ‘Briefly, it stands +thus: I am to show you such things as you wish to see; and in return, +you become a member of our Brotherhood, swearing to promote its welfare +by all the means in your power. Quick! say the word, for I feel the +unseen influence upon me.’ + +‘Yes, yes—agreed; only show me my brother.’ + +As Sir Geoffrey spoke, a change came over Le Gautier’s face; the +baronet watching him, perfectly fascinated. The medium’s eyes grew +larger and more luminous, his features became rigid, and he moved like +a man who walks in a dream. His gaze was fixed upon the other, but +there was no sense of recognition there—all was blank and motionless. +He rose from his chair, moving towards the door, his hands groping for +it like the action of the blind, and he beckoned to Sir Geoffrey to +follow him out along the dark passage. + +‘Come!’ he said in a strange hollow voice—‘come with me! The spirits +are abroad, and have need of me!’ + +The room they entered was situated at the back of the house, having +a large old-fashioned bay window of the shape and form one sees in +the banqueting-room of old country-houses—a long narrow room, draped +entirely in black; and the only light in the place proceeded from two +small oil-lamps held by white Parian statues. As the twain entered, +the draperies were violently agitated, as if by a sudden wind; an icy +current seemed to strike them full in the face. A chair, impelled +forward by an unseen hand, was pushed across the bare floor, and Sir +Geoffrey, at a motion from his companion, seated himself therein. Le +Gautier stepped forward towards the window, and lighted a flat brasier, +sprinkling some sort of powder upon it, and immediately the room was +filled with a dense violet mist, through which the oil-lamps shone +dimly. The weird music commenced again, and as it died away, a loud +report was heard, and the curtains across the window were wrenched +apart, disclosing an open space. As Sir Geoffrey gazed into it, a form +began to appear, misty at first, then getting gradually clearer, till +the watcher saw the figure of a girl, dim and slight, for he could see +the woodwork of the window behind, but clear enough to see she was +fair and young, with thick masses of long yellow hair hanging over her +shoulders, and half hiding her face from sight. There was a look of +sadness on the brow. + +‘You may speak,’ the strange hollow tones of Le Gautier came through +the mist. ‘If you have any questions to ask, put them; but, at the +peril of your life, do not attempt to move.’ + +With the most reverent and holy belief in the reality of the scene +before him, Sir Geoffrey gazed at the downcast features. To his +diseased mind, he was on the borderland of another world, and the very +thought of speaking to the bright vision was full of awe. + +‘Who are you?’ he said at length in tremulous tones. ‘Let me know who +it is with whom I speak.’ + +‘I am your better self,’ the vision spoke; and the voice sounded faint +and distant, yet very sweet, like music on the waters. ‘I am your +good spirit, your guardian angel. I stand by you night and day, the +presiding deity of the honour of the House of Charteris.’ + +This artful stroke gave the listener confidence, and flattered his +family pride. ‘Has every man a spirit such as you?’ he asked. + +‘Every man who is by nature noble—yes. To every one who has courage and +genius, one of my sisters belongs. I am the guiding star of your House. +I have stood by you and yours in the hour of need. I saw your father +die. I saw your brother’s deathbed. It is of him you would speak?’ + +‘It is,’ the baronet cried boldly. ‘What of him?’ + +‘You owe him a heavy debt of reparation,’ the vision continued sadly. +‘In life, you were not always friends; in death, you were not with him. +He left a family. Are you aware of that, selfish mortal?’ + +‘I did not know; I never knew. But it is not yet too late to atone. +Tell me where they are, and I will go to them.’ + +‘It is too late!’ the figure replied in tones of deepest sorrow. ‘They +are dead—dead of neglect; nay, more, starvation. They will not dispute +your sway now. While you had flattery and adulation, while you lived in +luxury and splendour, your kith and kin lacked bread.’ + +‘But surely some atonement can be made?’ + +‘Too late—too late! Nothing can avail them now, no specious sophistry, +no outward appearance of remorse. You can atone, though slightly, by +completing the work your brother began in life. Know that at your very +door, proud man, thousands of your fellow-creatures are starving, +ground down in the dust by injustice and oppression. You can help to +lighten this burden; you can help these men, who, poor and savage as +they are, are yet men, and brothers.’ + +‘I will!’ Sir Geoffrey cried eagerly—‘I will! Only show me how; and let +me see my brother, if only for a brief moment.’ + +‘That is well,’ the figure replied with a radiant smile. ‘As for the +means, I must leave that to you. But you shall see your brother, if +only for a moment.—And now, farewell.’ + +‘But stay another minute. I’—— + +The farewell was repeated, coming to the listener’s ears as from afar +off, fainter and fainter, as the violet mist rose again, filling the +room with a dense fragrant smoke, through which the rigid figure of Le +Gautier could be dimly seen erect and motionless. + +When the mist cleared away again, the figure of a man grew visible. +Perfect, yet intangible, he stood there, muffled in a long cloak, and +his features partially hidden by a soft broad-brimmed hat. At this +spectacle, Sir Geoffrey’s agitation increased, and great drops stood +upon his forehead. + +‘It is he—my brother!’ he groaned, starting from his feet; but again +the word ‘Beware!’ seemed to be hissed in his ear. ‘My dear brother, do +not look at me like that. It was no fault of mine, I swear.’ + +The figure answered not, but looking the wretched man in the face, +pointed down to his feet, where two thin, emaciated children crouched, +evidently in the last stage of disease and starvation. + +‘What atonement can you make for this?’ was asked in the stern tones +the listener knew so well. ‘Man! in the enjoyment of what should, under +happier auspices, have been mine, what do you say to this?’ He pointed +down to the crouching children again, sternly yet sadly. + +‘Anything,’ the baronet exclaimed—‘anything, so that you do not torture +me like this! It is no fault of mine. I did not know. But anything in +my power I will do, and do gladly.’ + +‘Well for you that you have spoken thus! You shall complete the work I +began in life, and the man called Hector le Gautier shall help you with +his aid and counsel.—You have a daughter?’ + +‘I have—your niece Enid. What do you know of her?’ + +‘Much; perhaps more than you.—Listen! and interrupt me at your peril. +You may have views for her; perhaps she has chosen for herself. Am I +right? But this must not be! Hector le Gautier must wed her!’ + +‘But I have other views. There is already’—— + +‘Do you dare to cross me?’ the vision sternly asked. ‘Have not I and +mine suffered enough at your hands? Promise, or’—— + +He stopped abruptly, and again the sighing voice whispered ‘Beware!’ +In an agony of terror, the baronet looked round; but the dark eyes +never seemed to leave him. So frightened was he, so stricken by this +cunningly devised display, that he dared not defy the figure standing +there before him. + +‘I promise,’ he shouted at last—‘I promise.’ + +‘’Tis well,’ the vision said. ‘From this moment, you are free. You +will see me no more; but if you dare swerve a hairbreadth from our +compact, then you shall find my vengeance swift and terrible. Geoffrey, +farewell!’ + +‘But, Ughtred; one moment more—I’—— + +A deep shuddering sigh broke the silence, and the figure was gone. +Almost distracted, Sir Geoffrey rushed forward to the curtains, which +had again fallen, but nothing was there. The smoke cleared away, and +once again the room was quiet. + +Le Gautier opened his eyes, and gradually life and motion came back +to him, as he awoke like a man from a trance. ‘Are you satisfied,’ he +asked, ‘with what you have seen?’ + +‘Wonderful!’ the trembling baronet replied. ‘It was my brother to the +life—the very voice even. You heard the compact?’ + +‘I, my dear Sir Geoffrey? No, indeed,’ Le Gautier exclaimed in a voice +of great surprise. ‘Recollect, I heard nothing; my faculties were +torpid; they formed the medium through which sights and sounds were +conveyed to you.’ + +‘And you heard absolutely nothing?’ + +‘Absolutely nothing.—But, of course, if there happened to be anything +which concerned me, you can tell me at your convenience.—And now, I +think we have had enough of spirits for one night, unless you would +like something to steady your nerves?’ + +Sir Geoffrey declined the proffered refreshment, pleading the lateness +of the hour and his desire to get home. Le Gautier did not detain +him; and after a few words, they parted; the one to dwell upon the +startling events of the evening, and the other to complete his plans. +It was a neat stroke of Le Gautier’s to disclaim any knowledge of the +conversation, the rather that the delicate allusion to his relations +with Enid were mentioned, and besides which, it acquitted him from any +awkward confidences. + +‘The game is in my hands,’ the schemer mused an hour later, as he sat +over his last cigar. ‘Would any one believe that a man of education, +I almost said sense, could be such a fool?—Hector, _mon ami_, you +will never starve as long as there is a Charteris in the world. The +opportunity has long been coming, but the prize is mine at last;’ and +with these words, the virtuous young man went to bed, nothing in his +dreams telling him that his destruction was only a question of time, +and that his life was in the hands of two vengeful women. + + + + +KENTISH HOPS. + + +The country can show few prettier pictures than a hop-garden in a sunny +August. The bines twine vigorously round the rustic poles, while the +side-shoots hang down in graceful festoons or from pole to pole in +tasteful wreaths. Rich clusters of burr hanging from every joint bend +down the slender tendrils, until it seems that every moment they must +break; and but for tying and stringing, break they often would. But if +the graceful plants are picturesque in themselves, it is when viewed +as a whole that the hop-garden has its greatest charm. Stretching away +in endless succession, until lost in the narrowed distance, is bower +upon bower, in which Robin Goodfellow and all his merry crew would be +at home. Everywhere there is a wanton luxuriance which seems to belong +to nature rather than to industry. The artificial stiffness of the long +lines of poles is hidden by their wealth of greenery. In many gardens, +too, the hops are still planted in the good old-fashioned style—in +groups of three on ‘hills’—festooned in irregular triangles, each of +them a verdant arbour. Through the masses of foliage, the sunshine +gleams merrily, lighting up the bright yellow catkins, and creating a +thousand contrasts of light and shade. The pungent sweetness of the +air gives an added charm to the picture, which appeals to the several +senses with a rare witchery. We have little need, while we have our +hop-gardens, to envy the vineyards of more sunny climes; and it may +be a national prejudice, but we take leave to doubt whether in point +of the picturesque they do not bear the palm. But the comparison is +superfluous. + +We, as a nation, are proud of our hop-growing counties. We point +triumphantly to the ‘fruit,’ which is, or ought to be, the staple of +our national beverage. In one respect, however, the culture of the hop +sadly resembles that of the grape. Both are terribly hazardous. Not +even the dreaded phylloxera is more devastating than the red spider. +The oidium is not more deadly than mould, and both diseases, curiously, +require to be treated by sulphuring. Hops, like vines, are subject to +plagues of vermin. The hop-fly is a terrible pest, and when, as often +happens, it attacks the bines at the same time as mildew, the case is +almost hopeless, for sulphuring cannot be employed. According to the +popular theory, sulphur, although it revives the blighted bines, makes +the fly more vigorous; so that, as the fresh sap rises, it effects such +a lodgment in the plant that recovery becomes hopeless. No more dismal +spectacle can be imagined than a blighted hop plantation. The blackened +bines cling listlessly to the poles. Here and there, a few young but +sickly shoots give proof of a vain effort to throw off the pestilence, +which seems to threaten the very existence of the parent stem. + +Hop-culture, indeed, has manifold dangers in our treacherous climate. +In dry seasons, the crop is often so light as hardly to pay for the +picking; while, unless there be sunshine and to spare, and, above all, +a long spell of warm nights, the burr hardly ripens, and the hops +cannot be got in anything like condition. It is not perhaps generally +known that although this is a special branch of agriculture, and calls +for a high degree of skill and care, there are many varieties of +hops which are suited to many different soils, and will thrive under +different conditions. It is a common saying in hop counties that one +good crop every seven years will pay; so that it may well be asked +whether, notwithstanding the risk, a much greater area could not be +advantageously put under hops in England? On soils and in situations +where the famous ‘Goldings’ or ‘Whitebines’ will not do well, ‘Grapes’ +often thrive. Then a kind known by the familiar name of ‘Jones’s’ have +long been profitably grown on light and poor land; and on stiff soils, +‘Colegates,’ a late and very hardy variety, have done well. Flemish +red bines, too, although an inferior sort, often succeed in bad years, +since they are less susceptible to blight. So there is plenty of choice +for agriculturists. + +There is good reason for believing that hops were known to the +Anglo-Saxons, whether or not they introduced them into Britain; for the +name is admittedly derived from the Anglo-Saxon _hoppan_, ‘to climb.’ +There is, however, a distich: + + Turkey, carps, hoppes, pickard, and beer, + Came into England all in one year— + +whence has arisen the notion that the plant was not known in this +kingdom until the time of Henry VIII. But although the method of +cultivating the plant in vogue in the Low Countries may then have been +first introduced into England, as early as the year 1428 Parliament +was petitioned against the hop as a ‘wicked weed,’ showing that it was +then coming into use. It was not, however, until a century later that +it became a general ingredient in the manufacture of malt liquors, +and it was long chiefly imported; for the plant was not extensively +cultivated with us until the beginning of the seventeenth century. The +city of London did not look with favour upon the new industry, for they +petitioned the Long Parliament against ‘two nuisances or offensive +commodities which were likely to come into great use and esteem; and +that was Newcastle coal in regard of their stench, and hops in regard +that they would spoyl the taste of drink and endanger the people.’ The +petition, however, does not seem to have met with very great success, +for both industries soon increased to prodigious proportions. Hops were +presently taxed, and became a source of considerable revenue. + +Kent was always the chosen hop county. Some seventy thousand acres +are now under this crop, and of these, forty thousand are in Kent +alone. Farnham is the centre of the hop district of Surrey. Then parts +of Hants and Sussex, Essex and Suffolk, Hereford and Worcester, and +even so far north as Notts, have long been cropped with hops; and +although success has been checkered with failure, the returns as a +whole have proved fairly remunerative. The yield is, of course, very +variable, ranging from eight to ten hundredweight per acre in a good +season, the heaviest crop on record being twenty-five hundredweight, +to five and even three or less in a bad one. The prices realised, too, +depend so much upon condition and quality that it is only possible +to give here the slightest indication. As much as twenty-five pounds +per hundredweight has been paid for the first ‘pockets’ on sale in +the Borough; but this is, of course, a phenomenal price. Owing to the +immense quantities of foreign hops in the market, prices in an ordinary +year seldom rule higher, for all but the very finest sorts, than from +nine to thirteen pounds per hundredweight. But although hop cultivation +is steadily on the increase in England, it by no means keeps pace +with the import trade. Every year we import many hundred thousand +hundredweight, of which about half comes from the United States, and +the remainder from Australia, Belgium, France, Würtemberg, Central +Germany, and Holland. Against this we export only a few thousand +hundredweight to India and some of the colonies. + +From all this, it will be seen that there is room for a considerable +increase in the land under hop cultivation in this country. Nor, if the +culture of the plant be strictly subordinated to that of other crops, +need the risk be prohibitive. Moreover, a variety of uses have lately +been introduced for the waste of the crop. Little, for instance, has +hitherto been made out of the bines in this country; but within the +last few years they have been experimentally converted into ensilage +and found to form at once a valuable feeding material and a useful +tonic. Other uses have been found for them abroad. Thus, in Sweden, +they have long been treated so that they could be woven into a rough +kind of cloth. The process was formerly very tedious, consisting +chiefly of soaking them in water all the winter; but it has been +greatly expedited by treating them successively with alkaline lye and +acetic acid, when the fibre is at once ready for bleaching. This use +for hopbine has, however, for some unknown reason, never attracted much +attention in Great Britain. An English patent was once taken out for +using the plant for tanning purposes; but, so far as we know, it has +never been very successfully used; and the bine is still to a large +extent regarded as a waste product, or at best used as litter. + + + + +GEORGE HANNAY’S LOVE AFFAIR. + + +CHAPTER III.—SUCCESS AT LAST. + +Alfred Roberton was too politic to make known the full extent of his +discomfiture. He made light of the matter: most authors had had their +difficulties at first, and why should he expect to escape? He made +himself very agreeable to the old gentleman. The short experience he +had had of trying to earn money had led him to reflect that a man +having a snug going business and a farm worth four or five thousand +pounds might not be such an undesirable father-in-law after all, even +though he _was_ an innkeeper. He threw greater fervour than ever into +his manner towards Anne, and talked in a gay and hopeful way of the +future. But she was too keen-sighted to be deceived; she read the +secret of his crushed hopes in his sunken eyes and cheeks, and was not +at all misled by his forced cheerfulness of manner. She forbore to +annoy him with prying questions, and affected in the meantime to see as +roseate a prospect as he himself did. When the colour came back to his +cheeks and he began to look more like his former self, she spoke to him +seriously. Would he allow her to see the returned manuscripts? + +‘You know, Alfred,’ she said, ‘I have been a great reader of what +is called “light literature” in my day, and perhaps I might—from a +reader’s point of view, you know—happen to light on the secret of your +want of success. Give me two or three of your stories, and I will have +a look at them before I go to bed to-night.’ + +He was astonished! To think of this simple country girl proposing to +criticise his literary work! + +‘Well, Nan, I’ll select two or three of my best,’ he said; ‘but I fear +you will prove far too indulgent a critic to be a just one.’ + +‘No, Alfred,’ the girl replied gravely; ‘you need not fear that. You +may depend that any faults that I may perceive will be carefully +pointed out to you. Don’t look for any kidglove treatment at my hands; +and be prepared, in any case, to keep your temper.’ + +The next morning, after breakfast, she handed him his papers back. He +could not possibly guess from her countenance what her impression had +been. Her face had an earnest, but not an altogether unhopeful look +about it; certainly, it did not show any signs at all of a wondering +admiration for his genius. + +‘Well, sir, I’ve read your stories, as I promised I would. I will say +all my disagreeable things about them first. To begin: I think they +lack the narrative power which leads a reader on, once he has commenced +a story, and almost compels him to read it to the finish. Of course +he is disappointed at the denouement; but he is equally ready to be +cheated again by the next book he takes up, provided the author has the +same power to lure him on. I think the first aim of a magazine writer +should be to make his stories readable.’ + +‘And are not mine readable?’ he said, biting his lips and a frown +overshadowing his brow. + +‘Ah, I see you are wincing, Alfred! But didn’t I warn you I would be a +severe critic? No; I did not say your stories were _not_ readable; but +they might be made much more so.’ + +And to his amazement, this young girl launched into a critical analysis +of the plots, characters, and treatment of his three stories; and her +remarks, strange to say, pretty closely agreed with those expressed by +the ignorant London editors! Nan had verily profited by her old lover’s +literary conversations; but Alfred knew nothing at all of that. She was +then graciously pleased to say a few words of commendation. + +‘Your style of composition is far too even for that sort of work. It +lacks eccentricity’—— + +‘Pardon, Nan!’ he interrupted; ‘but are you serious? I have hitherto +understood eccentricity was considered a blemish in any author’s style.’ + +‘Nonsense!’ she said. ‘If not overdone, it lends a piquancy to writings +that without it would attract no attention and be passed by as prosy. +When an author happens to hit on a good original phrase, he should +“ring the changes” on it. The reader recognises it as an old friend met +under new circumstances, and is not at all displeased. An author who +can originate a few phrases, put them in his mental kaleidoscope, so +to speak, and sprinkle the resulting combinations through his book, is +said to have acquired “a style,” and his books are sought after.’ + +‘By Jove, Nan, but you surprise me!’ he cried, looking at her with a +puzzled air. ‘What, then, would you advise me to do?’ + +She was prepared for this question, and had been framing an answer +to it in her mind for some days past. Obviously, the most sensible +advice was for him to abandon his literary dreams, and settle down +to the pursuit of his profession. But then sensible advice is rarely +palatable, and still more rarely adopted. That he was determined to +make a mark of some kind in literature, was evident, and she rather +admired her lover’s indomitable pluck, in refusing to accept as final +the unfavourable criticisms of London editors. If he hadn’t been her +lover, she would probably have called it ‘stupid obstinacy.’ She +therefore determined to urge him on in his literary projects; he was +undoubtedly clever, and was certain, sooner or later, to see his +productions in print. When he reached that goal, the glamour which +possessed him would probably vanish; and he would then most likely +return to his profession, as a surer road to success and distinction. + +‘Did you ever try the _Olympic_, Alfred?’ she said. + +‘O no,’ he rejoined. ‘You see, it is more of a review. Besides, it is +a very high-class, exclusive magazine, and one not at all likely to +encourage beginners like me.’ + +‘I know they don’t publish stories,’ continued Nan; ‘but they have +often short descriptive articles. Now, I was thinking if you were to +send the editor a short sketch of some kind in your very best style, he +might perhaps put it in.’ + +‘And what kind of sketch would you propose?’ he inquired. + +‘What would you think of “A Summer Ramble in Kirkcudbright?” she +replied. ‘The editor belongs to that quarter; and if the description of +the scenery and folks were well done, I think he might put it in.’ + +‘A capital idea, Nan. Why, I’ll set about it at once,’ he said +impetuously. + +Alfred went to work with renewed hope and vigour. After ten days’ +alternate rambling and writing, he one evening announced that his paper +was finished, and read it over to Nan in the parlour. On the whole +she gave a favourable verdict on its merits; and it was sealed up and +duly addressed to the editor of the _Olympic_. She had insisted on him +using a _nom de plume_. He chose that of ‘Ariel;’ and the address was: +‘Post-office, Glenluce.—To lie till called for.’ + +The evening passed pleasantly in chat and song; and when Nan rose to +bid good-bye for the night, she said: ‘By-the-bye, Alfred, you had +better give me your letter with the manuscript. I will see the postman +as he passes in the morning, and hand it to him.’ + +‘Nonsense, Nan!’ he returned. ‘Why, the mail-gig passes before six +o’clock. There’s no use in disturbing you so early. I will hand it to +him myself.’ + +She was inexorable in her request, however, and ended the dispute by +playfully seizing the letter, and tripping up-stairs before he could +prevent her. Once in the privacy of her own room, a strange change +came over her. With knitted brow and compressed lips, she slowly paced +the apartment. Evidently, she was making up her mind on some important +resolve. At last she clasped her hands and whispered to herself: ‘Yes; +I’ll do it—but is it fair?’ + +She had a tired and drowsy look next day; and when Alfred asked if +she had been in time to give the postman the all-important letter, +she answered somewhat petulantly in the affirmative. After a time he +took to walking to Glenluce daily to see if there were any letters for +‘Ariel.’ For ten days he came back empty-handed and dispirited; on +the eleventh he bounced into Nan’s private parlour in a state of wild +delight. + +‘I knew it—I was sure of it, Nan!’ he cried, ‘that the moment my +writings came before a competent judge they would be fully appreciated. +Look! here is a bank draft for twenty pounds. It only took me ten days +to write the sketch. Why, it is payment at the rate of six hundred a +year!’ + +‘Was there a note with it?’ she asked quietly. + +‘Yes; a precious short one, though. “The editor of the _Olympic_ +acknowledges receipt of Ariel’s manuscript, which he accepts, and begs +to inclose bank draft for twenty pounds as an honorarium.” That is all.’ + +‘The editor has remunerated you very handsomely, I think,’ she said, +continuing her sewing. ‘But mind that one swallow does not make a +summer. Don’t be too sanguine. Other editors may not be so generous to +you.’ + +‘Stuff!’ he replied loftily. ‘Do you mean to say he would have sent so +much unless he knew he had got value, good value for it too? Do you +know, Nan, I made up my mind, after getting the letter, to start for +London to-morrow? I’ll call on the editor of the _Olympic_—perhaps he +may’—— + +‘On no account must you do that, Alfred!’ she cried, dropping her +sewing, and with a terrified look in her face. ‘Go to London, if you +think proper; though I think you would be foolishly spending money in +doing so. But you mustn’t call on the editor.’ + +‘And why mustn’t I call on him?’ he said in a displeased tone of voice. + +‘I have reasons—private reasons of my own, Alfred, to wish you to +refrain from doing so,’ she replied a little awkwardly. ‘I cannot +explain them to you just yet; perhaps I may again. Meantime, you +must promise me solemnly not to call on him, or send him any more +contributions, unless you choose to do so in your own name. On no +account must he be made aware that you are “Ariel.” Remember, it was +through my advice you scored this first success; continue to follow it, +for I can assure you it is for your own good.’ + +He grumbled a good deal, but in the end agreed to the restriction +imposed on him. He held firm, however, to his intention of going to +London; and Anne did not press her objections further. He could not +understand why she was not more elated at this auspicious beginning of +his literary career. In fact, he fancied he saw a pained expression +passing over her countenance, when, in the exuberance of his spirits, +he enlarged on the brilliancy of his prospects in the metropolis. +Somehow or another, the success of ‘A Summer Ramble in Kirkcudbright’ +detracted from rather than added to the happiness of the lovers. The +slightest possible degree of coldness sprung up between them. He +was annoyed, and even felt some distrust at the prohibition put on +him regarding the _Olympic_. That Nan was annoyed at something, was +apparent; but whether it was his anxiety to leave her and be off to the +scene of his future triumphs, or what it was, was not very apparent. +The only one who enjoyed unalloyed satisfaction from the event was +old Mr Porteous. The bank draft convinced him more than a thousand +arguments that there was money in literature, and that his proposed +son-in-law possessed the Open Sesame to its stores. He had far too high +an opinion of his old friend the editor’s sense than to suppose he +would have given twenty pounds for a short sketch unless it was of real +merit. These reflections made him a trifle more cordial to Alfred than +he had yet been; and when he and Nan drove him to the railway station, +they all parted the best of friends, the lovers promising to correspond +punctually as before. + + + + +A HUMBLE SPRIG OF NOBILITY. + +A RED RIVER STORY. + + +Towards the close of the last century, Mr Beauchamp, a young Englishman +of good family—a friend of Pitt, Fox, Burke, and Sheridan—entered +a large mercantile house in London with a view, it was supposed, +of ultimately becoming a partner therein. With this firm he passed +the earlier years of his manhood. With the single exception of +having lost both his parents in his youth, he was regarded as a +singularly fortunate individual; and at the age of nineteen he +formed a matrimonial engagement with Julia Middleton, a young lady +of considerable prospective wealth, and of remarkable personal +attractions. But just at the time when an announcement of the marriage +was expected by the friends on both sides, Mr Beauchamp disappeared in +a mysterious manner; and neither the parents nor Miss Middleton had +any explanation of the cause of his disappearance, or whither he had +gone. It was, however, but a nine days’ wonder; and all minds, but one, +ceased to trouble themselves further about the matter. _That_ one was +the poor girl herself, who was deeply attached to her lover. Whenever +any hint was thrown out which cast a doubt over the moral rectitude of +Henry Beauchamp’s character, she indignantly repudiated the idea, and +would believe no evil concerning him that originated in mere conjecture +on the part of the speaker. + +It must be borne in mind that at the period of which we are writing, +international communication was not carried on with the same speed +and facility as in these days, and a considerable time elapsed ere it +became known that Henry Beauchamp had embarked for Canada. But of his +real whereabouts nothing was known for years. The facts we are about to +record were divulged to us by a lady to whom we shall hereafter refer. +He had, it appeared, entered into business with a Fur Trading Company, +and with them he passed many years in a country called ‘The Kepigong,’ +between Lake Superior and James Bay. Half a century ago, traders were +often men of low type, who led lax and vicious lives. As ill-luck would +have it, it was amongst such a class that the young adventurer chanced +to fall. Out in that wild territory, with no sort of restraint on his +actions, in the midst of lawless and strange companions, he often fell +a victim to their evil influence and example, and his very weakness +and ignorance made him an easy prey to their wiles and cupidity. If he +made money, they cheated him out of it. He was often reduced to the +brink of starvation; and at one period he subsisted for two months on a +miserable species of fish called ‘suckers.’ + +After countless trials and vicissitudes, he obtained employment at +Lake Winnipeg, where he passed another decade; but even there his evil +genius seemed to pursue him, for he received accidentally the contents +of a loaded gun in his leg, which wound caused him at times great +suffering throughout his whole life. But he was a man of pluck and +courage, and would never yield to any obstacle which perseverance could +overcome. Having resolved to try his fortunes on his own account in a +district involving several hundred miles of travel, he provided himself +with a couple of horses, and set out attended by one serving-man. On +they went till nightfall through a wild uninhabited region, where +nature asserted her right to repose in their wearied limbs and failing +spirits. So, having first picketed their horses, they lay down to +rest in the best shelter they could find. Feeling amply refreshed by +daybreak, they determined to continue their journey with no further +halt till eventide. But alas for their horses! The animals had either +decamped or been stolen, probably the former. After some cogitation as +to the next step to be taken, Mr Beauchamp decided to send his servant +in quest of the animals, whilst he remained at his post. The day +passed, the night pressed onwards, and morning dawned without either +horses or man having appeared. Unprovided with a compass, chart, or +guide of any description, Mr Beauchamp then felt how futile his hopes +must prove—that the poor man had probably lost his way, and that there +would be no more meeting between them. + +For a while utterly disconsolate, the solitary traveller bethought him +of retracing his steps; but when he attempted to walk, he found himself +so broken down by fatigue and over-exertion that he could only limp +along, or drag his wearied body on all-fours. Finally, ‘worn out,’ as +he himself expressed it, ‘both in body and mind,’ and when within but +ten miles of his trading-post, he lay down with the fervent hope that +death would put an end to such torture; but not liking the idea of his +body being devoured by wild animals, he crawled about to get together +branches of trees wherewith to cover himself. But in spite of all the +man had suffered, death was still to be balked of its prey. Some Red +Indians fortunately came upon him, and by his discoverers he was kindly +cared for and nourished, and taken to his post, where, after some +weeks, he gradually recovered. + +Was it retribution or destiny, or what, that made him again such a +cruel martyr to circumstances in the next episode of his career? After +Lord Selkirk began to colonise the Red River, Mr Beauchamp gave up +his prospects in the Fur Company and turned settler. In opposition +to the Hudson’s Bay Company, another had been formed, called the +North-West Company. Between the two there was great rivalry and +jealousy. At the instigation of some of its people, Mr Beauchamp was +made prisoner, thrown into a dungeon in Fort-William, and from thence +taken to Montese, where his alleged trial was to take place, without +his ever having been told of the crime whereof he was accused. After +weeks of weary waiting and dread expectation, he was set at liberty +without a single question having been put to him, the sole object of +his oppressors having been to detach him from Lord Selkirk’s interest, +which they considered was synonymous with that of the Hudson’s Bay +Company. + +Lord Selkirk’s agents having meanwhile discovered that a plot was +hatching at M‘Gillivray’s house in Montreal—and the nucleus of the +North-West Company—to upset altogether the infant settlement at Red +River, Mr Beauchamp volunteered to set off at once and convey the first +intelligence of this Guy Fawkes business to the poor unsuspecting +colonists. To this end, he started for Moose Factory, in James Bay, in +an Indian canoe. When about midway, he was overtaken by the rigours +of a Canadian winter, with all its impediments to continued and safe +travel. He had to walk to the above-named Factory, and thence along the +coast of Hudson’s Bay to Albury, Severn, and York factories, and on to +Red River—a journey of two thousand miles, a feat which only a nature +inured to privation and hardship such as we have described, together +with the substratum of an iron constitution, could possibly have +performed. + +On the night of Mr Beauchamp’s arrival at his destination, there +happened to be some kind of bacchanalian revelries going on in true +military style, got up by the commandant at Fort Douglas, Red River. +In these our adventurer took part, but in a way that did not greatly +redound to his credit. Nothing, it may be presumed, was known there of +his antecedents, and as he was heart and soul devoted to Red River, +he was advised to find a wife amongst the native women of Caledonia +residing on the spot. The choice was soon made of a widow, and in the +absence of any clergyman, the knot was tied by the civil magistrate. +Shortly after, his pecuniary affairs being now in a satisfactory +condition, he resolved to return to England. Whilst there, a longing +came over him to see once more the love of his youth and to ask +her forgiveness for the past and the boon of her friendship in his +declining years. More than thirty years had elapsed since they parted, +but the lady had never married. After the death of her parents, she had +come into possession of a fortune, and had a handsome establishment +in Portman Square. There she resided for the rest of her life, and +there, too, she saw again the friend of her youth, and received his +explanation. What that explanation was, never passed her lips. We may +be sure that no man of birth, fortune, and social position would have +sacrificed all for a trifle, and become to all intents and purposes an +outlaw. + +It was during this sojourn in England that he formed the plan of a +‘Buffalo Wool Company,’ making himself the managing partner. It turned +out a miniature South Sea Bubble, for it left Mr Beauchamp minus six +thousand pounds. He had returned to Canada in 1820, and an occasional +interchange of letters with Miss Middleton followed. In his perfect +diction and finished phrases there was still much to remind her of +the fascinating polished friend of her youth, from whose pen she had +received an unvarnished account of his strange career. In testimony of +this, a touching record was found amongst her papers at her decease, +which took place some years after that of Mr Beauchamp. When the news +reached him in 1826 of the failure of his last venture, the shock it +gave him reduced his fine athletic form in a few weeks to a shadow. He +was first attacked by delirium, and then fell into a state of absolute +despondency. But his mental faculties completely recovered their power; +and just at the most critical period of his illness, he was received +and cared for by the English chaplain and his wife. When sufficiently +restored, he sought some new means of employment which involved neither +risk nor outlay. His last occupation was the mastership of a private +boarding-school for the families of the Company’s officers at the Red +River. In this way he managed to support himself and his family until +his death. He used to speak of himself to the clergyman’s wife as ‘a +humble sprig of nobility,’ and had ingeniously drawn out a genealogical +tree—still in the possession of this lady’s family—tracing his descent +from Richard Cœur-de-Lion. + + + + +A1 AT LLOYD’S. + + +A1 at Lloyd’s is a sufficiently familiar expression; it meets our eye +in the newspaper paragraph; it stares at us from the wall-placard; and +it haunts us in Fenchurch Street, E.C., Water Street, Liverpool, and +other chosen homes of shipowners. Every one recognises in it a nautical +equivalent for ‘first quality;’ but here information on the subject +usually ends. As Lloyd’s Register of British and Foreign Shipping, +the institution granting the title in question, has not long since +celebrated its jubilee, we believe a short account of the origin of +that undertaking and of the work in which it is engaged may prove of +interest. + +The business of underwriting or insuring against marine risks is of +very ancient date; to say that it existed among the Phœnicians takes us +back a long way in the world’s history; and as a necessary preliminary +to legitimate underwriting, as distinguished from mere chance-work, +lies, and must ever have lain, in knowing that the vessel proposed to +be insured is seaworthy, we may also claim for the business of the +ship-surveyor a respectable antiquity. + +The primitive underwriter was probably a man with a practical knowledge +of ships, and who, when asked to insure a certain vessel, surveyed it +himself. As business increased, however the inconvenience attending +this system would soon make itself felt, and the obvious expedient of +the underwriter employing a skilled man to make the survey for him +and send in a report, would be adopted. From an underwriter receiving +reports of the condition of individual ships, to his arranging these in +tabular form, is but a step; and from individual underwriters drawing +up such lists for their own guidance, to their agreeing generally to +place them at the service of their brothers in the business, is but +another, although the length of time that elapsed ere this latter +result was reached was doubtless considerable. The oldest classified +list of shipping extant dates only from the beginning of the reign of +George III.; but this document—of which more anon—bears unmistakable +internal evidence of being at the time no novelty. + +Our story opens during the early years of the reign of Charles II.; +English colonies across the sea were beginning to prosper; English +commerce, notwithstanding oppressive fiscal laws, was on the increase, +and the business of the underwriter naturally followed. London was +then, as now, the headquarters of the marine insurance business of the +country; and the city coffee-houses, then but of recent origin, were +the common meeting-places of all connected with the shipping interest: +it is the name of the proprietor of one of these establishments that +now lives in that of the great corporation of Lloyd’s. + +Edward Lloyd is one of those men of whom we would gladly know more +than history has brought down to us, but of whose personality apart +from his work we know practically nothing, even his proper name having +been lost, until recovered by the researches of a recent writer. +Finding his house in Tower Street regularly frequented by underwriters, +Lloyd—who must have been a man of great ability and foresight—appears +to have formed the resolution of making it the headquarters of the +business; and to this end, gave facilities for meetings, arranged for +sales of vessels and cargoes, started a newspaper, and practically +identified his interests with those of his patrons. The newspaper was +short-lived, being suppressed by government; but his labours were +rewarded by his seeing his establishment—latterly removed to Lombard +Street—the centre of marine insurance business not only for London but +for the kingdom. Three generations of underwriters met at the Lombard +Street coffee-house, and when, in 1770, having formed an association, +they removed to premises of their own, and shortly after to the Royal +Exchange, they took the name of their old headquarters with them; and +thus it has come about that the greatest marine insurance corporation +the world has seen owes its name, and to a certain extent its origin, +to a London coffee-house keeper at the time of the Restoration, to +whose memory the foreign shipowning Companies’ titles of ‘Austrian +Lloyd’s,’ ‘North German Lloyd’s,’ ‘Argentine Lloyd’s,’ &c. are +additional tributes. The classified list of shipping already referred +to as the oldest extant is dated 1764, but is, unfortunately, somewhat +mutilated. The work is arranged in a form very similar to that of +the register books of to-day, giving in parallel columns the name +of the vessel, tonnage, date of building, owner, &c.; and also what +is evidently intended for a character or class, one or other of the +vowels A, E, &c., in conjunction with the letters G, M, or B. The +key to this system of classification is missing; but Mr Martin, the +historian of Lloyd’s, has surmised, with every appearance of justice, +that the vowels refer to the character of the hull of the vessel; and +the accompanying letters, being the initials of the words _good_, +_middling_, and _bad_, to the character of the equipment; AG being thus +a good, well-equipped ship, and UB the reverse. + +How to express satisfactorily the condition of a ship by means of +symbols was evidently about this time a disputed point, as in a +register dated four years later an entirely new system appears, the +letters _a_, _b_, _c_ being used in conjunction with the Roman numerals +1, 2, 3, 4. Under this system, _a_1, an approximation to the now +familiar character, represented a good vessel; and _c_4 its antithesis. +Seven years later still, in 1775, the vowels again make their +appearance for expressing the character of the hull, the Roman numerals +being retained, and A1, as the symbol for a first-class ship, comes +on the scene. To decide what shall be the classification letters or +numerals used in describing ships of varying character is one thing; to +give to each ship the class to which it is justly entitled is another +and decidedly more difficult matter. So the London underwriters found; +but instead of treating the question as one in which many interests +were involved, they treated it as concerning themselves alone, and, +during the closing years of last century, came to a decision the sole +merit of which was its simplicity. The London shipbuilders of the day +got a better price for their work than the builders at other ports, and +consequently were able to, and admittedly did, turn out a better ship. +Further, it might be _primâ facie_ supposed that a ship, built even on +the Thames, was not so good after being afloat ten years as on the day +of its launch. Putting these two things together, the compilers of the +Register decided to class ships simply according to their age and where +they were built; such events as a ship newly built on the Tees being +occasionally better than a Thames-built craft of the same size that had +been knocking about the seas for five years; or a thirteen-year-old +ship under good management being actually in better repair and more +seaworthy than an eight-year-old one in careless hands, being held +to be contingencies needless to provide against. It was hardly to be +supposed that the shipowners would agree to a system of classification +which practically placed a monopoly in the hands of certain builders, +and which decreed that existing ships after a certain period would +lose their class, no matter how perfect their state of repair; and the +result of indignation meetings on the subject was the starting of a new +Register of shipping; thereafter known as the ‘Red Book;’ the former, +or underwriters’ register, being known as the ‘Green Book.’ From the +date of founding of the Red Book, the history of ship-classification, +from being fragmentary, becomes continuous; and, had the popular +saying, that competition is the life of trade, been of universal +application, great advance might have been looked for; the law of +supply and demand, however, stopped the way. There was not sufficient +work for the two Registers; each found it difficult to meet its +expenses without taxing its supporters; and although, during the thirty +odd years the rivalry lasted, some advance was made, still, during the +whole of that period the relationships of shipbuilders, shipowners, +shippers, and underwriters one to the other were on an unsatisfactory +footing. Nowadays, it is recognised—and no one thinks of disputing +the justice of the arrangement—that the shipowner, being clearly the +person most interested in his ship bearing a high class, should pay the +expense of all surveys. This apparently elementary truth was, however, +far from being recognised sixty years ago, the opinion then being that +the interested parties were the shippers and underwriters. + +After the close of the war with Bonaparte, when privateering was a +thing of the past, and convoys of frigates were no longer required, +the shipping trade of England rapidly increased; each Register was +impelled to keep pace with its rival in adding to its number of ships +registered, and the expense of surveys increased in proportion, the +number of subscribers remaining but little altered. This was the +beginning of the end. By the time that a fourth of the present century +had elapsed, the rival Registers were in a hopeless condition; but +ten years more of trouble and dispute had to pass ere differences +were adjusted, jealousies set at rest; and the ‘Red’ and the ‘Green’ +now united, commenced a fresh career of usefulness under the title of +‘Lloyd’s Register of British and Foreign Shipping,’ the new departure +dating from January 1835. The Committee of management of the new +Register was supposed to represent in equal proportions the interests +of the shipowners, shippers, and underwriters, and, so far as London +was concerned, it doubtless did so. With, however, that preference +for men and things metropolitan, not unknown yet on the banks of the +Thames, the interests of the other shipping ports of the United Kingdom +received scant recognition, and the result was the perpetuation of +grievances, the effects of which have lasted to our own day. Of much +greater importance than the mere union of the rival Registers was the +adoption of the system of surveying and classification, which, although +improved in detail to an extent then undreamt of, is in operation +still. It was settled that henceforth vessels were to be classed on +their own merits as at date of survey; that the class should be fixed +by the committee on the report of the surveyor; that vessels built +with a view to class should be under survey during the course of +construction; and that the shipowner should pay the survey fees. + +At the date of the founding of Lloyd’s Register, and for untold +generations before, the one material used for building ships was wood. +Long experience had made its properties common knowledge, and it +might reasonably be supposed that shipbuilders would long since have +come to an agreement as to the dimensions, say, of the ribs, keel, or +planking of a ship of given size; such, however, was far from being +the case. Owing, possibly, in part to the fact of ships built at one +port being assumed inferior to those built at another, and the builders +accepting the situation, and certainly in part to the fact that the +rule of thumb was then the leading rule in British naval architecture, +the practice in one part of the country differed widely from that in +another. To induce the adoption of a uniform scale of ship scantlings +founded on the best practice was one of the first tasks attempted +by the Committee; but while its members were yet considering the +proportions of wooden ships, an influence was at work in the world that +was shortly to render their labours of small account. Along with the +old familiar click of the calker’s mallet, the dwellers by river-banks +began to hear mingle a new sound, the rattle of the riveter’s hammer; +and by the time Lloyd’s Register had completed its tenth year of work, +the _Great Britain_ had crossed the Atlantic, and the Iron Age had +come. The ship-designer found his business brought back at a single +step to the experimental stage, and the Committee and surveying staff +of Lloyd’s Register found that they had a new business to learn. It +is probable that every branch of human industry has been, at one +period or another of its history, the subject of trade secrets; iron +shipbuilding in its earlier days was no exception, and, as no builder +thought it his interest to initiate Lloyd’s Register, that body had no +share in the development of the iron ship. This was probably the best +arrangement; the days of competitive tenders and ‘poor man’s ships’ +were yet in the future; and the men who launched the _Great Britain_, +the _Persia_, and the _Great Eastern_, were more in a position to teach +than to be taught. In 1844, Lloyd’s Register agreed, for the first +time, to give the A1 class to iron ships built under their survey, on +the surveyors’ report that they were of good and substantial materials +and workmanship; and eleven years later, their first rules for iron +ship-construction were issued. + +Landsmen who voyaged in the wooden ships of the past were but too +familiar with the creaking that went on without intermission whenever +weather of a certain degree of roughness was met with. This was due +to a slight rubbing of the timbers one on another, and was no sign +of weakness, it being impossible with a yielding material like wood +to drive bolts absolutely tight. The amount of straining and actual +distortion that a wooden ship might undergo and yet remain fairly +seaworthy, was astonishing; and a go-ahead skipper preferred a +springy ship to a stiff one. With iron, the conditions were entirely +changed; rigidity proved essential to safety, and loose fastenings +were fatal. It was this necessity for rigidity that made it possible +to frame constructive rules from the observation of the behaviour +of comparatively _new_ ships, old and tried ones not being then in +existence. On examining an iron ship after a single voyage, the +surveyor, provided always the painter had not been at work before +his arrival, could point unchallenged to the weak points of her +structure—started joints, cracked plates, and bent bars, telling their +tale only too plainly. For reasons which are not far to seek, but +which need not be entered upon here, the rules for the construction +of iron vessels issued by Lloyd’s Register in 1855 did not meet the +success their framers intended. Greatly improved rules were issued in +1863; but it was not until 1870 that the Committee emancipated itself +from various obsolete ideas, and, under the guidance of the honoured +gentleman who now holds the position of Secretary to the Register, +issued rules in the form now existing. Various editions of these +rules appeared from time to time, each more comprehensive than its +predecessor; for some years past they have been issued annually; and +those now current leave little to be desired so far as completeness +is concerned. Lloyd’s Register grants three leading classes—namely, +100A, 90A, and 80A; the numeral 1, making 100A1, being added to keep +up the time-honoured classification mark. The system of classification +a century ago provided, as we have seen, for differing qualities +of outfit in ships otherwise bearing the same character, and the +numerals 1, 2, 3, &c. were used accordingly; but the fact has come to +be recognised that a good ship with a bad or insufficient outfit is +practically a bad ship, and the 100A class is not granted unless the +outfit be up to the requirements of the numeral 1. + +In addition to the above-named classes, Lloyd’s Register will survey +and grant the class A for a vessel designed for almost any desired +service, the plans being submitted for their approval; for instance, +the swift steamers that carry the mails in connection with the +South-Eastern Railway are classed ‘A. Folkestone and Boulogne Passenger +Service.’ These special classes, however, are not taken advantage of +to any great extent.—Two classes of surveys are held—the ‘Ordinary’ +and the ‘Special.’ The first consists in a given number of visits paid +to a ship at certain periods during construction; the second, in a +systematic inspection of the vessel at short intervals, from the time +of laying the keel to that of certifying to the anchors and cables +being the proper weight. The first of these, as might be imagined, is +open to various drawbacks; and few shipowners who desire a class at +Lloyd’s hesitate to incur the somewhat greater expense of a ‘special +survey,’ which, as it includes the machinery also if the vessel be a +steamer, practically saves the expense of a private inspector. Lloyd’s +survey only extends to the _structure_ of the ship, and takes no +account of the fitting-up of the cabins and other work connected with +the accommodation or comfort of crew and passengers; the class meaning +simply that, in the opinion of the Committee, the ship is strong and +seaworthy. The work of surveying is carried on in the United Kingdom +by about one hundred surveyors, who give their whole time to it; in +addition, about three-fourths of this number scattered throughout the +world give their services in part. The Committee of management, whose +headquarters is in Cornhill, consists of fifty members, representing +the different ports of the country, although by no means in proportion +to their relative standing, London securing about half the total +representation. The Register Book, which represents the results of +the labours of Committee and surveyors, is a ponderous volume, and +gives the particulars of all the vessels now afloat that have received +Lloyd’s classification, in addition to the particulars of numbers of +other vessels not so classed; in fact, the Register Book is a great +shipping directory, the ship, not the owner, being the leading feature. + +Lloyd’s Register is not alone in the field of surveying and classifying +ships. Liverpool up till a year ago had a registry of its own, the +‘Liverpool Underwriters’ Registry.’ This has now united itself with +Lloyd’s Register, a fact which, for some reasons, is to be regretted. +Paris is the headquarters of the ‘Bureau Veritas,’ an undertaking +whose classification is in repute in Scandinavia, North Germany, the +Netherlands, and France; and which maintains a staff of surveyors in +the United Kingdom. This undertaking is not a representative one, +and on this ground has been objected to. It is doing useful work, +nevertheless; and its system of classification is superior to Lloyd’s, +inasmuch as it takes into account the service for which the vessel is +intended. A kindred institution to the ‘Bureau Veritas’ looks after +the shipping of Italy, and is known in this country as the ‘Italian +Veritas;’ while the ‘American Lloyd’s’ controls to a certain extent the +building of ships on the Delaware, but is unknown in this country, on +account of the well-known navigation laws by which only native-built +craft can sail under the stars and stripes. + +Classification Societies are not an unmixed benefit to the community, +still less have they an unmixed influence for good on the design of +ships. Theoretically perfect rules would proportion the strength of +every individual ship to the _work_ it had to do; but, as Lloyd’s +Committee, through whose hands the designs for over eight hundred +ships probably pass in the course of a year, have no possible time for +going into such detail, standard types of vessel have been adopted, +the designs submitted being compared with these on the basis of their +_dimensions_ alone. The natural result of this is that ships are in +many cases built to suit Lloyd’s type; and the art of the ship-designer +but too often has degenerated into getting the maximum of advantage out +of certain dimensions which are known to bring the vessel just within +the limits of one of these types. + +In the days gone by, ships were built for a certain trade, and kept +at it, the East Indiaman, the West Indiaman, and the Atlantic packet +seldom interfering with each other. The leading steamship Companies +naturally adhere to this system still; but, during recent years, +hundreds of individually owned ships have been set afloat, designed for +no special trade, but simply to carry the maximum cargo on the minimum +cost wherever a freight offers itself. It is largely from the necessity +of making its rules applicable to these privateers of trade that the +frequently grumbled-at oppressiveness of Lloyd’s Register arises. This +brings us to notice that some first-class steamship Companies do not +class their vessels at all; and it may cause surprise to many to know +that of those steamers whose rapid passages across the Atlantic have +made their names familiar, the majority are _not_ A1 at Lloyd’s. The +reason for this is simply, that a skilful designer who knows thoroughly +the requirements of the service for which a ship is intended can always +turn out a better and more economical vessel than one built to class, +a fact which more of the leading steamship Companies will doubtless +come to recognise before long. The rules of Lloyd’s Register for the +construction of iron vessels are growing in stringency from year to +year; a vessel built to class ten years ago, and which has proved her +efficiency by doing the work for which she was designed during all that +period without a complaint, would, if built to-day, require a large +percentage of additional weight put into her structure to bring her +strength up to the demands of the current rules. That this is so is due +to the fact that, up till quite recently, Lloyd’s Register has taken +account of one element only out of the several that the question of +the safety of a ship on the ocean involves. For years past, the aim of +the Committee has been to take from the shipbuilder more and more of +the responsibility which he at one time bore for the strength of the +vessels he builds, until now his share is practically _nil_; while it +has been but too evident for years past, from the disclosures that now +and again have been elicited before the Commissioner of Wrecks, that a +good ship may be badly stowed, overloaded, or undermanned, and, under +such circumstances, be in much greater danger from sea-risks than a far +inferior ship in good hands. + +The aim of Lloyd’s Register is the protection of the shippers and +underwriters against undue risks, and the present high rates of marine +insurance show that this protection is not what it might be. If the +trouble and expense now devoted to securing strong vessels are not to +continue to be thrown away, as they certainly are at present in a fair +percentage of cases, the Committee will require to take steps to insure +that a ship bearing their highest class shall not take the sea with a +cargo badly stowed, an insufficient crew, or too little freeboard. The +question of freeboard is already engaging attention; the other points +cannot long be left in their present state; and the day will then come +when shippers will think with wonder on the times when premiums at the +rate of ten per cent. were paid for insuring cargoes in ships that were +100A1 at Lloyd’s. + + + + +DESTRUCTIVE INSECTS. + + +The Agricultural Department has issued two Reports by Mr C. Whitehead, +F.L.S., F.G.S., dealing with Destructive Insects. The first of these +treats of ‘Insects Injurious to Hop-plants.’ In the opinion of +the writer, there is an increased and increasing risk of loss and +destruction from injurious insects to many of the crops cultivated in +this country. We scarcely grow anything exempt from the ravages of +these pests. They attack corn of all kinds, fruit-trees, hop-plants, +clover, turnips, mangold-wurzel, &c. Although some kinds are well +known and long known, others are new, or, at anyrate, they have only +recently been noticed. In certain instances they appear to have been +imported with the plant, as, for example, the mangold-wurzel fly, +_Anthomyia betæ_, which, within the last five years—contrary to the +opinion of Curtis, who, writing in 1859, thought its injuries would +not be of much consequence—has wrought much mischief. The turnip-fly +again, which originally fed upon charlock and other cruciferous plants, +has now quitted these, because the turnip supplies more suitable food. +With its increased cultivation, this fly has multiplied enormously, +as the farmer knows to his cost, for, in seasons favourable to its +development, it sometimes destroys whole fields and causes great loss. + +Cultivation is not only favourable to such old offenders, but it seems +to have introduced entirely new ones; at least, the farmer now finds +that wheat, clover, and other crops raised by rotation in the same +fields, suffer injuries from insects, which, if they existed formerly, +escaped notice. It may be, however, that the scientific spirit of late +introduced into agriculture has only just discovered what in many cases +has always been going on. At the same time, it is universally admitted +that the destruction occasioned by insects is larger than ever it was, +and that there are insects at work in the fields which were little, if +at all, known to our forefathers. + +One very good reason for the progressive increase of agricultural +plagues is that they multiply proportionately at a much quicker rate +than the plants on which they feed. We are actually rearing them +artificially, and the problem is how to cultivate crops without at +the same time cultivating these parasites. High-farming, by pampering +plants, no doubt renders them more delicate and more liable to attack; +but perhaps we help to make our own trouble by not exercising ordinary +caution. Certain it is that destructive insects are imported into, as +they are exported out of, this country. The agricultural produce which +we bring from various parts of the world must contain many unwelcome +visitors, though, fortunately, our climate does not agree with the +majority of them. Like the famous Colorado Beetle, even if allowed a +fair chance, they would scarcely thrive. Others there are with the +Scotsman’s reputation of being able to do well anywhere. They only +require a suitable plant to feel perfectly at home. They sometimes get +‘assisted’ emigration at the cost of their favourites, like the hop +aphis, which was introduced into America among hop-roots sent from +England. The former country has by entomologists been styled ‘the home +of insects;’ but, to Europe’s loss, one highly interesting though +destructive American crossed the Atlantic—namely, the phylloxera, so +destructive to vines. An individual that undergoes various puzzling +transformations is not readily identified, and the hop aphis, having +these disguises, has alarming opportunities of getting a footing where +it is least wanted. Indeed, all such destructive insects should receive +more study than they have hitherto obtained. Within the last few years, +scale insects were introduced into the Californian orange groves from +Australia; and orange, citron, and lemon growers in other parts of the +world are now complaining of pests of a similar nature. Considering +the evil which has been already accomplished, it is highly important +that farmers, fruit-growers, gardeners, and all who cultivate the land +should be made acquainted with all that is known regarding the insects +which attack their several crops. + +The hop-plant in particular has many enemies, some of them so +destructive, that if not checked, they would soon ruin the grower. +Within the last thirty years, it is believed the liability of this +plant to attack by insects has considerably increased. Hop-planters +assert that insects now destroy their crops which were not known in +the plantations until recently. Mr Whitehead selects ten of the most +troublesome species, and gives descriptions of each insect, together +with its life-history, its modes of attack, and the injury to the hop +resulting therefrom; also a detailed account of methods of prevention, +and of measures which have been found efficacious in stopping or +alleviating these attacks. + +Mr Whitehead originally intended to confine his second Report to +insects injurious to corncrops; but as the work progressed, it was +found desirable to include those destructive to grasscrops, as some +insects are common to both. While dealing with cereals, he also thought +it well to treat pulse, under which title are included plants such as +peas, beans, and tares, and to describe the principal insects which +affect them, especially as they are all crops liable to be attacked +by the same insects. A description of a genus the most injurious to +different kinds of clover, is also given. To include comparatively +harmless insects in a work which is intended not so much for scientific +purposes as to enlighten farmers and others regarding the pests which +molest them most, was not necessary. For sufficient reasons it has +been found most expedient neither to arrange them alphabetically nor +according to a recognised scientific classification, but to take +the insects of each group as far as possible in the order of their +injurious effects. Indeed, there are included what, in the scientific +acceptation of the term, are not insects at all. But the Report was +written to convey useful and practical instruction to the cultivators +of the soil, and wisely it was done in the manner which was likely +to benefit them most. ‘With regard to these’ (the chief pests), +Mr Whitehead writes, ‘it has been endeavoured to collect all the +information that is known about them, and to bring this down to the +latest date. It is believed that each monograph is a _résumé_ of all +that is known of its subject, of its life-history, and the means of +prevention, and remedies against it. It is admitted that in several +instances the information is still imperfect; and in compiling this +series of Reports, I have been more than ever impressed with the +necessity of enlisting skilled workers in this cause, as well as +of urging and encouraging habits of observation amongst those who +superintend the cultivation of the land and those who work upon it.’ + + + + +A NURSE. + + + A nurse, a simple nurse; to the unthinking + Only a nurse, and nothing but a name: + A patient woman in her round of duty, + Living and dying all unknown to fame. + + Only a nurse, a messenger of mercy, + An angel sent unto our suffering race, + With quiet step, and tender hand of healing, + Divinest pity on her gentle face. + + When all the world lies wrapt in quiet slumber, + Save the poor sufferer moaning on his bed, + Whose watchful eye with Christian love keeps vigil + Through the long night with silent softened tread? + + Only a nurse, in duty all unshrinking; + Before such scenes, man’s stouter heart would quail: + See there! that sweet, fair girl, in sorest trial + Is at her post, nor will her courage fail. + + The fever we but terror-struck encounter, + Or fly before with selfish, coward dread; + While nurse and doctor hasten to the rescue, + And stand unflinching by the stricken bed. + + Hark! that weird bell—an accident at midnight; + The nurse and doctor, wakeful, close at hand, + Who minister to suffering or dying, + The hospital’s heroic little band! + + There you or I may in our need find refuge, + With kindly help and loving tender care; + Respect we give those brave, unselfish women, + And night and day, remember them in prayer. + + E. M. C. + + * * * * * + +Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON, +and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH. + + * * * * * + +_All Rights Reserved._ + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75204 *** |