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diff --git a/75329-0.txt b/75329-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..67a4474 --- /dev/null +++ b/75329-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1746 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75329 *** + + + + + +[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. 148.—VOL. III. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1886. PRICE 1½_d._] + + + + +THE MATTERHORN, AND ITS VICTIMS. + + +The Matterhorn, or Mont Cervin, a peak of the Pennine Alps, fourteen +thousand seven hundred and eighty feet high, is unique amongst the +mountains of the Alps, for elsewhere throughout their length and +breadth there is no single peak that approaches to it in massive +grandeur of shape. Standing alone, apart from the neighbouring peaks, +holding itself proudly aloof, as it were, from the common herd, it is +truly a monarch among mountains. To look upon it is to realise at once +the feeling of awe and reverence with which, even to this day, the +peasants of the valley regard it—a feeling which in former years had +perhaps more to do with its reputed inaccessibility than anything else; +whilst other peaks whose ascent is now thought to be more difficult, +were falling one by one before the early pioneers of the Alpine Club. +In that time—with very few exceptions—even the boldest hunters of +Zermatt and the Val Tournanche shrank from attempting the ascent, for +time-honoured legends said that the Matterhorn was haunted, that evil +spirits made it their trysting-place; and when the storm raged high, +and the lightning played about its crags, danced and shrieked around +it in unholy glee. Then, too, the Matterhorn has a history of its own, +such as no other mountain save Mont Blanc possesses. + +Every one who has read Mr Whymper’s _Scrambles amongst the Alps_—a book +which has probably done more to stimulate the love of climbing than +any written before or since—knows how he alone—when other mountaineers +tried and failed, coming back always with the same tale, that the +summit was inaccessible—persisted that it could be reached; and how, +though driven back many and many a time, he refused to accept defeat, +till at length, after an expenditure of time and money which some +would deem completely thrown away in such a cause, his indomitable +perseverance met with its due reward. As Mr Whymper’s adventures in +connection with the ascent of the Matterhorn have been already related +in this _Journal_ under the title ‘Ascent of the Matterhorn,’ January +10, 1880, we need only refer to them here in so far as is necessary for +the sequence of the narrative. + +There were several attempts made to ascend the Matterhorn previous +to 1858; but the first known were those of the four Val Tournanche +guides—Jean Antoine Carrel, J. J. Carrel, Victor Carrel, Gabriel +Maquignaz, with the Abbé Gorret, in that and in the following year. +These attempts were all made on the Italian side, from Breuil; and +it does not appear that at any time a greater height than twelve +thousand six hundred and fifty feet was attained. Very little definite +information, however, has ever been obtainable on the subject. + +The next attempt of which we have record was a remarkable one, for +it was made by three brothers, the Messrs Parker of Liverpool, _and +without guides_. The attempt was made in 1860 from Zermatt, and these +daring climbers attacked the eastern face, looked upon at that time as +quite beyond the powers of any human being to climb. They succeeded +in ascending to a height of some twelve thousand feet, and were then +driven back by bad weather. In the same year, another attempt was made +from Breuil by Professor Tyndall and Mr Vaughan Hawkins, with the +guides J. J. Carrel and Bennen; but they did not make much advance upon +what had been done during the attempts of the Val Tournanche guides; +and it is doubtful if a greater height than thirteen thousand feet was +reached. + +In 1861, the Messrs Parker tried again, but did not succeed in getting +much higher than they did in the previous year; while on the Italian +side, the two Carrels, J. A. and J. J., made another attempt, which was +unsuccessful. + +Then began the attempts of Mr Whymper, and from that moment until +the last successful expedition, with two exceptions, his name was +associated with all the attempts that were made upon the mountain. The +two exceptions were those of Mr T. S. Kennedy and of Professor Tyndall +in 1862. The first was unique, as having been made in the winter—on +the 7th of January. Mr Kennedy seems to have thought that the ascent +might prove practicable in winter, if not in summer; but his experience +was a severe one. A fierce wind, bitter cold, and a superabundance +of snow, prevented his getting very far; and, like all the rest, he +returned completely discomfited. The attempt of Professor Tyndall on +the Italian side, in July of that year, was perhaps the nearest to +success of any that had yet been made. He had two celebrated Swiss +guides with him, Bennen and Walter; and he also took, but only as +porters, three Val Tournanche men, of whom J. A. Carrel was one. This +expedition was only stopped when within eight hundred feet of the top. +Professor Tyndall came back so deeply impressed with the difficulties +surrounding the ascent, that he made no effort to renew his attempt. +In fact, he does not appear to have gone on the mountain again till he +ascended it in 1868, three years after the first ascent had been made. +Professor Tyndall’s want of success appears in great measure to have +been due to the jealousy existing between the guides of the two rival +nationalities, Swiss and Italian. + +The first attempt by Mr Whymper was made from Breuil on the 29th of +August 1861, the same day as the attempt by the two Carrels. Mr Whymper +was accompanied by an Oberland guide, who proved a somewhat inefficient +companion; and they failed to get higher than the ‘Chimney,’ twelve +thousand six hundred and fifty feet above the sea-level. He made other +five attempts in 1862, one in 1863, and two in 1865. In the ninth and +last, he was successful. + +In Mr Whymper’s ninth and successful attempt the united party +consisted of Lord Francis Douglas, Mr Hudson, Mr Hadow—a friend of Mr +Hudson’s—and the guides Michel Croz and the two Taugwalders, father and +son. They started from Zermatt on July 13, 1865, and camped out above +the Hörnli ridge. The weather was fine and with everything in their +favour, next day, they climbed with ease the apparently inaccessible +precipices, and reached the actual summit at 1.40 P.M. + +In the account of the expedition which Mr Whymper has given to the +world, he graphically describes the wild delight which they all felt +at a success so much beyond their hopes, and how for a full hour they +sat drinking-in the sweets of victory before preparing to descend. +It is almost needless to re-tell a story which we have previously +related, and which is so well known as the terrible tragedy which took +place during the descent—how Mr Hadow slipped, struck Croz from his +steps, and dragged down Mr Hudson and Lord Francis Douglas; how the +rope snapped midway between Lord Francis Douglas and old Taugwalder; +and how Mr Whymper and the two Taugwalders watched, horrified, whilst +their unfortunate companions slid rapidly downwards, spreading out +their hands in a vain endeavour to save themselves, till they finally +disappeared over the edge of the precipice, falling a distance of four +thousand feet on to the glacier below! The bodies of Messrs Hudson, +Hadow, and Croz were subsequently recovered, and now lie buried in the +graveyard of the Zermatt village church; but of Lord Francis Douglas, +nothing could be seen. Beyond a boot, a pair of gloves, and the torn +and bloodstained sleeve of a coat, no trace of him has ever since been +found. What became of his body is to this day a mystery. + +It is strange how the memory of this the most dramatic—if it may be +so termed—of all the accidents which have ever happened in the Alps +is still indelibly impressed on the minds of climbers, guides, and +amateurs alike. It is the commonest thing to hear it discussed, and the +theories put forward as to the cause of the rope giving way where it +did are various and ingenious. Unfortunately for the reputation of old +Taugwalder, the report of the official investigation held by the local +authorities after the accident has never to this day been made public. +As a consequence, old Taugwalder has suffered irretrievably from a +report mischievously circulated by his fellow-villagers to the effect, +that at the moment of the slip, he sacrificed his companions to save +himself, by severing the rope! And in spite of Mr Whymper’s assertions +that the thing was impossible, there are some who still persist in +maintaining that he cut it. The suspicion under which he laboured so +preyed upon his spirits that he quitted the scene, and for many years +never returned to his native village. The younger Taugwalder became one +of the leading guides of the valley. + +Thrice again has the Matterhorn been the scene of death in a terrible +form. In 1879, the mountain claimed two more victims. In the one case, +an American, Dr Moseley, disregarding the most ordinary precautions, +slipped and perished horribly, falling a height of some two thousand +feet, on to some rocks a little way down the Furggen Glacier. Dr +Moseley, accompanied by Mr Craven and the well-known Oberland guides, +Christian Inäbnit and Peter Rubi, left Zermatt on the night of August +13, with the intention of making a one-day ascent of the Matterhorn. +Both gentlemen were members of the Alpine Club, and mountaineers +of considerable experience. The summit was reached successfully at +nine o’clock on the morning of the 14th; and after a short halt, the +descent was commenced. Dr Moseley, who was a skilful rock-climber, +and possessed of great confidence in his own climbing powers, soon +after passing the most difficult bit of the mountain, complained +that the rope was a considerable hindrance; and notwithstanding the +remonstrances of Mr Craven and the guides, insisted on detaching +himself from the other members of the party. At some little distance +from the old hut, the party had to cross a projecting ledge of smooth +rock. Rubi crossed first, and planted his axe so as to give Dr Moseley +a firm foothold; but Dr Moseley, declining the proffered assistance, +placed his hand upon the rock and endeavoured to vault over it. In an +instant, his foot slipped, his axe flew out of his hand, and he fell +on to some snow beneath, down which he commenced to slide on his back. +The snow was frozen, and he dropped on to some rocks below. With a +desperate effort, he turned himself round and tried to grasp the rocks +with his hands; but the impetus attained was too great, and he fell +from rock to rock till lost to his companions’ sight. The body was +subsequently recovered; and from the terrible nature of the fall, death +must have ensued long before the bottom was reached. + +Here was a case of a valuable life absolutely thrown away, for, had Dr +Moseley remained on the rope, the accident would never have happened. +It was the same over-confidence that cost the life of the Rev. J. +M. Elliott on the Schreckhorn, and it is to be feared will cost the +lives of others yet, if the warning conveyed by the fall of these +two accomplished mountaineers continues to be disregarded. There was +another circumstance, too, which had a bearing on the accident, and +which is an additional proof of a want of carefulness on the part of +the unfortunate man—his boots were found, on examination, to be almost +entirely devoid of nails, and were, therefore, practically useless for +mountaineering purposes. + +In the other case, a death occurred under circumstances which are +happily without a parallel in the annals of mountaineering. Two +members of the Basle section of the Swiss Alpine Club—a body in no +way connected with our own Alpine Club—engaged three guides—J. M. +Lochmatter and Joseph Brantschen, both of St Nicolas, and P. Beytrison +of Evolena—to take them over the Matterhorn from Breuil to Zermatt. +They left the first-named place on the morning of August 12, and in the +afternoon reached the hut which the Italian Alpine Club have built at +an elevation of some thirteen thousand feet, amidst the wildest crags +of the Matterhorn, intending to sleep there, and cross the mountain +to Zermatt in the course of the following day. During the night, the +guide Brantschen was taken ill, and by morning had become so weak +as to be quite unable to move. Now, under these circumstances, it +might have been supposed that Brantschen would have been the first +consideration; but the two Swiss gentlemen thought otherwise. Instead +of at once abandoning the expedition, and sending down for help to +Breuil, after a brief consultation they announced to Lochmatter their +intention of proceeding to Zermatt, and ordered him and Beytrison to +get ready to start. They were conscious of the fact that Brantschen +had become dangerously ill, and appear to have demurred at first, but +weakly gave in on their employers insisting. A blanket was thrown over +the sick man, a little food placed beside him, and then the party filed +out of the hut, and the door was shut. It is possible that in their +leaving Brantschen they were scarcely alive to the consequences of +their act; it is to be hoped, at all events, that they were not; but +from the moment that the hut was left, they deliberately condemned the +sick man to at least thirty-six hours of absolute solitude. In fact, +by the adoption of this course, the nearest succour—at the pace of the +party—was nineteen and a half hours off, whereas Breuil would have been +only eight. They crossed the mountain safely, but being bad walkers, +did not reach Zermatt till half-past one the following morning. They +then caused a relief party of guides to be sent out; but it was too +late. On reaching the hut, the unfortunate man was found to be dead. +The conduct of his employers did not escape criticism both at home and +abroad. + +There have been accidents on the Matterhorn since 1879; but although in +more than one instance there has been a narrow escape, only once has +any further life been sacrificed. + +Within a few days of the first ascent of the Matterhorn, on July 18, +1865, J. A. Carrel and Bich succeeded in reaching the summit from the +Italian side, by a feat of rock-climbing scarcely equalled for daring +in the annals of mountaineering. Since then, ascents of the Matterhorn +have multiplied year by year; but for every one ascent by the Italian +route, there must be twenty at least by the Zermatt. In fact, the +former route is scarcely adapted for any but good mountaineers. The +Matterhorn has also been climbed from the Zmutt side; but this route +has never become popular. The first traveller to ascend the Matterhorn +from Breuil was Mr F. Craufurd Grove, the present President of the +Alpine Club; and of other remarkable ascents may be mentioned those of +Miss Walker, accompanied by her brother and Mr Gardiner—Miss Walker +being the first lady to climb the Matterhorn—of the Misses Pigeon, who +were weather-bound for three days in the hut on the Italian side; and +in descending to Zermatt, after crossing the summit, were benighted, +and had to remain on the open mountain-side till daybreak; of Messrs +Cawood, Colgrove, and Cust, who made the ascent from Zermatt without +guides; of the ill-fated expeditions in which the lives of Dr Moseley, +the guide Brantschen, and Mr Borckhardt were lost; and of Mr Mummery +and the late Mr Penhall, who each discovered a new route from the Zmutt +side. + +The Matterhorn has likewise been ascended in the winter; as the writer +can assert from experience, having accomplished the feat—such as it +was—in the days when it had not become the everyday affair that it is +now. With two guides, one of whom was the well-known Joseph Imboden +of St Nicolas, I arrived at Zermatt one fine afternoon in August, +resolved upon a one-day ascent of the Matterhorn. A start was to be +made at midnight; and soon after that hour, we were picking our way +over the stones which paved the deserted village street in the darkness +of a moonless night. Leaving the village behind us, we commenced to +ascend through the meadows beyond the village, Imboden leading, and +never for a moment pausing, although, in that uncertain light, it was +difficult to distinguish a track of any kind. We reached the barren +Hörnli Ridge, and as we commenced to traverse it, the sky grew lighter +with the dawn of day. We were close to the foot of the Matterhorn now, +and it loomed upon us, towering high into the sky, and seeming to my +eyes one mighty series of precipices from base to summit. There was a +solemn grandeur about the scene which seemed even to have its influence +upon my companion, for not a word was spoken as we strode on towards +the mountain. But when once we were upon the rock itself, I found that +the difficulties which I had pictured to myself as likely to arise had +little existence in fact; the series of precipices resolved themselves +into a rocky surface, much broken, and yielding capital hand and foot +hold everywhere. The incline, too, was very much less steep than it +had appeared at a distance. No difficulty indeed presented itself; +and climbing upwards rapidly, in two hours from the Hörnli we were at +the hut which in those days was generally made use of for passing the +night previous to an ascent. This hut is built beneath the shelter +of an overhanging cliff, on a narrow rock platform, and its position +does not give one an idea of security. It is cramped, and when I saw +it, was very dirty, and indeed looked altogether so uninviting, that +I congratulated myself on having avoided a night in it. We found the +stove useful, though, for cooking our breakfast. This hut has now been +superseded by a larger building, erected lower down the mountain. We +finished our breakfast, and set out once more. + +Hitherto, the work had been quite easy; but now came something stiffer, +our first experience being on an ice-slope at an angle of perhaps +forty-five degrees, overhanging the route by which we had ascended, +and by which, had any false step been made, we should have returned +somewhat hastily. A party that had gone up the day before spared us +any step-cutting, for they had done their work so satisfactorily that +quite a staircase remained for our use. We reached the top of the +slope in safety; a knife-edge of snow led us to the right, and almost +immediately we found ourselves upon the most difficult bit of the +mountain, the northern face. Rounding the edge of the mountain, you +look down, and below you, the face of the cliff falls away steeply, +till it terminates in a drop of three thousand feet or more. Above, +rises perpendicularly almost a succession of knobs of rock, overlapping +one another, and more or less coated with snow and ice. The position +may be rendered exciting enough to please any one by the addition of +one or two incompetent individuals to the party. + +Our progress was slow but steady. Imboden would scan the face of the +cliff, climb up a few feet, and when firmly fixed, call to me to +follow, the operation then being repeated with the second guide. We +sighted the summit at fifteen minutes past eight; and in less than two +hours after leaving the hut we were on the highest point. The summit +varies much, differing in shape with each successive season; and when +we were there, it was a ridge of snow, narrow in places, broader in +others, though nowhere was it possible to walk three abreast. We had a +glorious view; but in this respect the Matterhorn is perhaps inferior +to some of its neighbours, notably to Monte Rosa and the Dom. + +During the descent, Imboden exercised even greater care, and we +reached the hut again safely. From there, we made our way leisurely +down to Zermatt, where we arrived soon after three o’clock in the +afternoon, after an unusually quick ascent, thanks to the splendid +weather and the easy state of the northern face, which, while it cost +us only two hours, has sometimes given a party seven hours or more of +hard work. On the way down, Imboden pointed out to me two blanched +fragments of rope trailing from the rocks far up on the northern face. +They were left there by Mr Whymper after the accident, and marked the +spot close by where it occurred. There they remained as cherished +relics till last year, when a traveller sent his guide to cut them down +and bring them away. It is sad to think that it was an Englishman who +was guilty of this wanton act. + +As far as the actual ascent of the Matterhorn goes, it is far from +being the formidable affair which it was once considered to be; but at +the same time it is certainly not an expedition to be recommended to +every one. It is not that the ascent is dangerous in itself, though +some may have their own opinion about that, but it cannot be too +strongly insisted on that, under certain conditions, it ought not to +be attempted. Every experienced climber knows how weather can affect +a mountain, and how ascents which, under ordinary conditions, are +easy enough, are apt after bad weather to become difficult—sometimes +impossible; and for a party of novices, with possibly guides not of the +best class, to attempt the Matterhorn in a bad state is to run a risk +such as no one in the pursuit of pleasure is justified in running. + +The latest accident upon the Matterhorn, up to date of writing, has +perhaps more than any other Alpine accident illustrated the folly of +attempting great mountains without a proper mountaineering training +beforehand. On the morning of the 17th of August, at three A.M., a +party, consisting of Messrs F. C. Borckhardt and T. Davies, with +Zermatt guides, Peter Aufdemblatten and Fridolin Kronig, left the +lower Matterhorn hut, and in fine weather reached the summit about +nine A.M. Soon after leaving it, the weather, with one of those sudden +changes which must always more or less constitute a danger in Alpine +climbing, became very bad, and it began to snow. The progress of the +party was very slow, for neither of the two gentlemen seems to have +been a good walker, and both were exhausted; and by seven o’clock that +same evening they had only reached the spot near where Dr Moseley made +his fatal slip. Here they halted. It continued to snow all that night +and till past noon on the following day, by which time travellers +and guides were reduced to a pitiable condition. And now comes the +saddest part of the story. Of the party, Mr Borckhardt was by this time +the most helpless, and as such, ought to have received the greatest +consideration; but the guides persuaded Mr Davies that the only chance +of saving their own lives was to leave their helpless companion, and +make a push to the nearest point whence help could be obtained. At +that moment, it so happened that a rescue party was on its way from +Zermatt, and they met it about half-way down to the hut. On hearing of +the abandonment of Mr Borckhardt on the open mountain-side, the relief +party pushed on to his aid with all haste; but it was of no avail; they +only arrived to find that the unfortunate gentleman was past all human +help. + + + + +BY ORDER OF THE LEAGUE. + + +CHAPTER X. + +Besides the consolation of recovering the precious insignia, the spice +of romance in the affair appealed to Le Gautier’s natural sentiment. +He might, it may be thought, have had something similar made; but it +must be remembered that he had no fac-simile in his possession; and he +knew, or suspected, that the coin bore private marks known only to the +Supreme Three. At all hazards, therefore, the device must be recovered, +and perhaps a little pleasant pastime enjoyed in addition. + +After long cogitation, Le Gautier decided to keep the appointment, +and, in accordance with this determination, walked to Charing Cross +the following night. He loitered along the broad stone platform for +some time till the clock struck nine, idly speculating upon the +people hurrying to and fro, and turning over the books and papers on +the bookstall. At a few minutes after the hour he looked up at the +clock, and then down again, and his heart beat a shade more quickly, +for there, standing by the swinging door leading to the first-class +waiting-room, was a long cloaked figure, closely veiled. Walking +carelessly in the direction, and approaching, he looked at his watch as +he muttered: ‘Past nine—no sign of the Eastern Eagle.’ + +By way of answer, the mysterious stranger raised her hand to the clasp +of her cloak, and there, in the centre of the fastening, was a gold +moidore. + +Le Gautier’s eyes glistened as he noticed this. ‘You wish to see me?’ +he said at length. ‘I must thank you for’—— + +‘If your name is Le Gautier,’ she interrupted, ‘I do want to say a few +words to you.—Am I right, sir?’ + +Le Gautier bowed, thinking that, if the face matched the voice and +figure, he had a treasure here. + +‘This is no place to discuss this matter. If you can suggest any place +where we can hold a few minutes’ conversation, I shall be obliged.’ + +Le Gautier mused a moment; he had a good knowledge of London, but +hesitated to take a lady to any place so late. The only suggestion +he could make was the Embankment; and apparently this suited his +companion, for, bowing her head, she took the proffered arm, walked out +from the station, down Villiers Street, and so on to the waterside. Le +Gautier noticed how the fingers on his arm trembled, attributing this +to natural timidity, never dreaming that the emotion might be a warmer +one. He began to feel at home now, and his tongue ran on accordingly. +‘Ah! how good of you,’ he exclaimed, pressing the arm lying in his own +tenderly—‘how angelic of you to come to my aid! Tell me how you knew I +was so rash, so impetuous?’ + +‘Men who carry their lives in their hands always are,’ Isodore replied. +‘The story does not need much telling. I was in the Kursaal at the +time, and had my eyes on you. I saw you detach the insignia from your +watchchain; I saw you hand it to a woman to stake; in short, I can put +my hand upon it now.’ + +‘My protector, my guardian angel!’ Le Gautier cried rapturously; and +then, with a sudden prosaic touch, added: ‘Have you got it with you?’ + +Isodore hesitated. If he could only have seen the smile behind the +thick dark veil which hid the features so tantalisingly! + +‘I have not your insignia with me,’ she said; ‘that I must give you at +some future time, not now. Though I am alarmed for you, I cannot but +admire your reckless audacity.’ + +‘I thought perhaps you might,’ Le Gautier observed in a disappointed +tone, and glancing at the clasp of his companion’s cloak. + +‘That is mine,’ she explained, noting his eager look. ‘I do not part +with it so recklessly as you. I, too, am one of you, as you see. Ah, +Monsieur le Gautier, how truly fortunate your treasure fell into a +woman’s hands!’ + +‘Indeed, yes,’ he replied gravely, a little puzzled, nevertheless, +by the half-serious, half-mocking tone of these last words. ‘And how +grateful I am! Pardon me if, in my anxiety, I ask when I may have it?’ + +‘It may be some days yet. It is not in my hands; but be assured that +you shall have it. I always keep my promises—in love or war, gratitude +or revenge, I never forget.—And now I must leave you.’ + +‘But you will at least tell me the name of my benefactor, and when I +shall have the great felicity of seeing her again.’ + +‘If I disclose myself to you, my secret must be respected. Some time, +when I know you better, I will tell you more. I live in Ventnor Street, +Fitzroy Square. You may come and see me any night at ten. You must +inquire for Marie St Jean.’ + +‘I will come,’ Le Gautier exclaimed, kissing the proffered hand +gallantly. ‘Nothing save the sternest duty shall keep me from Fitzroy +Square.’ + +‘And you will respect my secret? I, too, am on the business of the +League. You will guard my secret?’ + +‘On my life!’ was the fervid response.—‘Goodnight, and _au revoir_.’ + +‘On his life,’ Isodore murmured as she walked rapidly away in the +direction of the Temple Gardens. + +It was a beautiful night, the moon hanging behind Westminster, and +throwing a glowing track along the swift rushing river, dancing like +molten silver as it turned and switched under the arches of Waterloo. +It was getting quiet now, save for the echoing footfall from a few +hurrying feet or the shout of voices from the Surrey shore. Soft and +subdued came the hoarse murmurs of the distant Strand; but Isodore +heeded them not. In imagination, she was standing under the shadow of +the grape-vines, the sunny Tiber down at her feet, and a man was at +her side. And now the grapes were thorns, the winding Tiber the sullen +Thames, and the hero standing by her side, a hero no longer, but a man +to be despised—and worse. As she walked along, busy among the faded +rose-leaves of the past, a hand was laid upon her arm, and Valerie +stood before her. + +‘I thought you were going to walk over me,’ she said. ‘I knew you would +return this way, and came to meet you.—Have you seen him?’ + +‘Yes, I have seen him; and what I have heard, does not alter my +feelings. He is cold and vain, callous and unfeeling as ever. And to +think I once loved that man, and trusted him! The poor fool thinks he +has made another conquest, another captive to his bow and spear. Under +cover of my veil, I have been studying his features. It is well he +thinks so; it will help me to my revenge.—Valerie, he is going to call +upon me to-morrow night at ten o’clock.’ + +‘But consider what a rash thing you are doing. Besides, how is this +going to benefit you or injure him? He will boast of it; he will talk +of it to his friends, and injure you.’ + +‘Not while I have this,’ Isodore cried triumphantly, touching the clasp +of her cloak.—‘Do not you see how he is within my power? Besides, he +can give me some information of the utmost value. They hold a Council +to-morrow night; the business is pressing, and a special envoy is to go +to Rome. The undertaking will be one of extreme danger. They will draw +lots, but the choice will fall upon Frederick Maxwell.’ + +‘How do you know this?’ Valerie asked. ‘I do not understand your +mission; but it seems to me that where every man has a stake at issue, +it is his own interest to see the matter conducted fairly.’ + +‘You may think so; but perhaps you will think differently when I tell +you that Le Gautier is, for the evening, President of the Council. It +does not need a vast amount of discrimination to see how the end will +be. Le Gautier is determined to marry this Enid Charteris; and much as +she despises him, he will gain his end if he is not crossed.’ + +‘But what are you going to do?’ Valerie asked, horrified at the +infamous plot. ‘You will not allow an innocent man to go to his death +like this?’ + +‘I shall not, as you say, allow a good man to be done to death,’ +Isodore replied with the calmness of perfect conviction. ‘The pear is +not yet ripe. Le Gautier is not sufficiently hoist with his own petard. +This Maxwell will go to Rome; but he will never execute the commission +allotted to him; I shall take care of that.—And now, mind you are out +of the way, when Le Gautier comes to-morrow night.’ + +Valerie silently shivered as she turned over the dark plot in her mind. +‘Suppose you fail, Isodore,’ she suggested—‘fail from over-confidence? +You speak of the matter as already accomplished, as if you had only +to say a thing and it is done. One would think, to hear you, that +Frederick Maxwell’s safety, my husband’s life even, was yours.’ + +‘Yes,’ she answered calmly; ‘his life is mine. I hold it in the hollow +of my hand.’ + + +CHAPTER XI. + +In one of those quiet by-thoroughfares between Gray’s Inn Road and +Holborn stands a hairdresser’s shop. It is a good enough house above +stairs, with capacious rooms over the shop; below, it has its +plate-glass windows and the pole typical of the tonsorial talent +within; a window decorated with pale waxen beauties, rejoicing in wigs +of great luxuriance and splendour of colour; brushes of every shape and +design; and cosmétiques from all nations, dubbed with high-sounding +names, and warranted to make the baldest scalp resemble the aforesaid +beauties, after one or more applications. But the polite proprietor of +‘The Cosmopolitan Toilette Club’ had something besides hair-cutting to +depend upon, for Pierre Ferry’s house was the London headquarters of +the League. + +As he stood behind a customer’s chair in the ‘saloon’ snipping and +chatting as barbers, especially if they be foreigners, always will, +his restless little black eyes twinkled strangely. Had the customer +been a man of observation, he would have noticed one man after another +drop in, making a sign to the tonsorial artist, and then passing into +an inner room. Salvarini entered presently, accompanied by Frederick +Maxwell, both making some sign and passing on. Pierre Ferry looked +at the newcomer keenly; but a glance of intelligence satisfied his +scruples, and he resumed his occupation. Time went on until Le Gautier +arrived, listless and cool, as was his wont, and in his turn passed in, +turning to the barber as he shut the door behind him. ‘This room is +full,’ he said; ‘we want no more.’ + +Ferry bowed gravely, and turning the key in the lock, put the former +in his pocket. That was the signal of the assembly being complete. He +wished his customer good-night, then closing the door, seated himself, +to be on the alert in case of any threatened danger. + +As each of the conspirators passed through the shop, they ascended +a dark winding staircase into the room above; and at the end of the +apartment, a window opened upon another light staircase, for flight in +case of danger, and which led into a courtyard, and thence into a back +street. The windows looking upon Gray’s Inn Road were carefully barred, +and the curtains drawn so as to exclude any single ray of light, and +talking quietly together were a few grave-looking men, foreigners +mostly. Maxwell surveyed the plain-looking apartment, almost bare of +furniture, with the exception of a long table covered with green cloth, +an inkstand and paper, together with a pack of playing-cards. The +artist’s scrutiny and speculations were cut short by the entrance of Le +Gautier. + +To an actor of his stamp, the change of manner from a light-hearted man +of the world to a desperate conspirator was easy enough. He had laid +aside his air of levity, and appeared now President of the Council to +the life—grave, stern, with a touch of hauteur in his gait, his voice +deliberate, and his whole manner speaking of earnest determination of +purpose. Maxwell could not but admire the man now, and gave him credit +at least for sincerity in this thing. + +‘Gentlemen,’ he said, in deep sonorous tones, ‘we will commence +business, if you please. I shall not detain you long to-night, for I +have business of grave importance myself. Will you take your seats?’ + +The men gathered round the table, drawing up their chairs, Le Gautier +at the head, and every eye turned upon him with rapt attention. From +an inside pocket he produced a packet of papers and laid them before +him. ‘Brothers,’ he asked, ‘what is our first duty to the League?’ + +‘The removal of tyrants!’ came from every throat there in a kind of +deep chorus. ‘And death to traitors!’ added one, low down the board. + +‘You are right, my friend,’ Le Gautier continued. ‘That is a duty to +which none can yield. I hold evidence in my hand that we have a traitor +amongst us—not in the room, I mean, but in our camp. Does any Brother +here know Visci, the Deputy at Rome?’ + +The assembly looked one to the other, though without speaking; and +Maxwell noted the deathly pallor upon Salvarini’s face, wondering what +brought it there. The President repeated the question, and looked round +again, as if waiting for some one to speak. + +‘Yes, I know him. He was my friend,’ Salvarini observed in melancholy +tones. ‘Let us hear what his fault is.’ + +‘He is a traitor to the Order,’ Le Gautier continued; ‘and as such, +he must die. His crime is a heavy one,’ he went on, looking keenly at +Maxwell: ‘he has refused to obey a mandate of the Three.’ + +‘Death!’ shouted the voices in chorus again—‘death to the traitor!’ + +‘That is your verdict, then?’ the President asked, a great shout of +‘Ay’ going up in reply.—‘It is proper for you to see his refusal; we +must be stern in spite of our justice. See for yourselves.’ Saying +these words, he passed the papers down the table from hand to hand, +Maxwell reading them in his turn, though the whole thing was a puzzle +to him. He could only see that the assembly were in deadly earnest +concerning something he did not understand. He was destined to have a +rude awakening ere long. The papers were passed on until they reached +the President’s hands again. With great care he burnt them at one of +the candles, crushing the charred ashes with his fingers. + +‘You are all agreed,’ he asked. ‘What is your verdict to be?’ And like +a solemn echo came the one word, ‘Death!’ Salvarini alone was silent, +and as Le Gautier took up the cards before him, his deathly pallor +seemed to increase. + +‘It is well—it is just,’ Le Gautier said sternly, as he poured the +cards like water from one hand to the other. ‘My friends, we will draw +lots. In virtue of my office as President, I am exempt; but I will not +stand out in the hour of danger; I will take my chance with you.’ + +A murmur of applause followed this sentiment, and the cards were passed +round by each, after being carefully examined and duly shuffled. +Maxwell shuffled the cards in his hands, quite unconscious of what they +might mean to him, and passed them to Salvarini. + +‘No,’ he said despondingly; ‘there is fate in such things as these. If +the lot falls to me, I bow my head. There is a higher Hand than man’s +guiding such destinies as ours; I will not touch them.’ Saying these +words with an air of extremely deep melancholy, he pushed the cards +in Le Gautier’s direction. The latter turned back his cuffs, laid the +cards on the palm of one hand, and looked at the assembly. + +‘I will deal them round, and the first particular card that falls to a +certain individual shall decide,’ he said. ‘Choose a card.’ + +‘The dagger strikes to the heart,’ came a foreign voice from the end +of the table; ‘what better can we have than the ace of hearts?’ He +stopped, and a murmur of assent ran round the room. + +It was a thrilling moment. Every face was bent forward eagerly as the +President stood up to deal the cards. He placed one before himself, a +harmless one, and then, with unerring dexterity, threw one before every +man there. Each face was a study of rapt attention, for any one might +mean a life, and low hoarse murmurs ran round as one card after another +was turned up and proved to be harmless. One round was finished, +containing, curiously enough, six hearts, and yet the fatal ace had not +appeared. Each anxious face would light up for a moment as the owner’s +card was turned up, and then be fixed with sickening anxiety on his +neighbour’s. At the end of the second round the ace was still absent. +The excitement now was almost painful; not a word was spoken, and only +the deep breathing gave evidence of the inward emotion. Slowly, one by +one, the cards dwindled away in the dealer’s hands till only seven were +left. It was a sight never to be forgotten even with one chance for +each; and when the first of the seven was dealt, a simple two, every +envying eye was bent upon the fortunate one as he laughed unsteadily, +wiped his face, and hastily filled and swallowed a glass of water. Six, +five, four; the last to the President, and there only remained three +cards now—one for Salvarini, one for Maxwell, and one for the suggester +of the emblem card. The Frenchman’s card was placed upon the table; he +turned it up with a shrug which was not altogether affected, and then +came Salvarini’s turn. The whole room had gathered round the twain, +Maxwell calm and collected, Salvarini white and almost fainting. He had +to steady one hand with the other, like a man afflicted with paralysis, +as he turned over his card. For a moment he leaned back in his chair, +the revulsion of feeling almost overpowering him. His card was the +seven of clubs. + +With a long sweeping throw, the President tossed the last card in +Maxwell’s direction. No need to look at it. There it lay—the fatal ace +of hearts! + +They were amazed at the luckless man’s utter coolness, as he sat there +playing with the card, little understanding as yet his danger; and +then, one by one shaking his hand solemnly, they passed out. Maxwell +was inclined to make light of this dramatic display, ascribing it to a +foreigner’s love of the mysterious. He did not understand it to mean a +last farewell between Brothers. They had all gone by that time with the +exception of Le Gautier and Salvarini, the latter looking at the doomed +man sadly, the Frenchman with an evil glitter and a look of subdued +triumph in his eyes. + +‘Highly dramatic, at anyrate,’ Maxwell observed, turning to Le Gautier, +‘and vastly entertaining. They seemed to be extremely sorry for me.’ + +‘Well, you take the matter coolly enough,’ the Frenchman smiled. ‘Any +one would think you were used to this sort of thing.’ + +‘I should like to have caught some of those expressions,’ Maxwell +replied. ‘They would make a man’s fortune if he could get them +on canvas. What do you think of an Academy picture entitled “The +Conspirators?”—And now, will you be good enough to explain this little +farce to me?’ + +His cool, contemptuous tones knocked Le Gautier off his balance for a +moment, but he quickly recovered his habitual cynicism. ‘There will be +a pendant to that picture, called “The Vengeance;” or, if you like it +better, “The Assassination,”’ he replied with a sneer. ‘Surely you do +not think I dealt these cards for amusement? No, my friend; a life was +at stake there, perhaps two.’ + +‘A life at stake? Do you mean that I am to play the part of murderer to +a man unknown to me—an innocent man?’ + +‘Murder is not a pleasant word,’ Le Gautier replied coldly. ‘We prefer +the expression “remove,” as being more elegant, and not so calculated +to shock the nerves of novices—like yourself. Your perspicacity does +you credit, sir. Your arm is the one chosen to strike Visci down.’ + +‘Gracious powers!’ Maxwell exclaimed, falling back into his chair faint +and dizzy. ‘I stain my hand with an unoffending man’s blood? Never! I +would die first. I never dreamt—I never thought—— Salvarini, I did not +think you would lead me into this!’ + +‘I warned you,’ the Italian said mournfully. ‘As far as I dared, I told +you what the consequences would be.’ + +‘If you had told me you were a gang of callous, bloodthirsty murderers, +I should not have joined you. I, like every Englishman, am the friend +of liberty as much as you, but no cowardly dagger-thrust for me. Do +your worst, and come what may, I defy you!’ + +‘A truce to these histrionics,’ Le Gautier exclaimed fiercely; ‘or we +shall hold a Council, and serve you the same. There are your orders. +I am your superior. Take them, and obey. Refuse, and’—— He stopped, +folding his arms, and looked Maxwell full in the face for a moment; +then turning abruptly upon his heel, quitted the room without another +word. + +Maxwell and his friend confronted each other. ‘And who is this Visci I +am to murder?’ the artist demanded bitterly. + +Salvarini bowed his head lower and lower till his face almost rested +upon his breast. ‘You know him,’ he said. ‘He was a good friend of mine +once, and his crime is the one you are contemplating now—disobedience +to orders. Is it possible you have not guessed the doomed man to be +Carlo Visci?’ + +‘Carlo Visci—my friend, my more than brother? I must be mad, mad +or dreaming. Lay foul hands upon the best friend man ever had—the +noble-hearted fellow whose purse was mine, who taught me all I know, +who saved my life; and I to stab him in the dark because, perchance, +he refuses to serve a companion the same! Never! May my right hand rot +off, before I injure a hair of Carlo Visci’s head!’ + +‘Then you will die yourself,’ Salvarini put in sadly. + +‘Then I shall die—death comes only once,’ Maxwell exclaimed proudly, +throwing back his head. ‘No sin like that shall stain my soul!’ + +For a moment the two men were silent. + +Salvarini broke the silence. ‘Listen, Maxwell,’ he said. ‘I am in a +measure to blame for this, and I will do what I can to serve you. You +must go to Rome, as if you intended to fulfil your task, and wait there +till you hear from me. I am running great risks in helping you so, and +you must rely on me. One thing is in your favour: time is no particular +object. Will you go so far, for your sake and mine?’ + +‘Anything, anywhere!’ burst out the Englishman passionately. + +(_To be continued._) + + + + +PITMEN, PAST AND PRESENT. + + +The coal-trade of Scotland dates from the early part of the thirteenth +century. In its earliest stages it embraced only the shallowest +seams, and those without water, or any other difficulty requiring +machinery to overcome. The digging of coal, therefore, is one of our +oldest industries; and it may be interesting to look at some phases +of the work from the miner’s point of view. Taking this stand-point, +we will see that the improvement in the miner’s condition—physical, +intellectual, moral and spiritual—is almost inconceivable. When +machinery became necessary for pumping water from coal-pits—about the +beginning of the seventeenth century—there appears to have been a +demand for workmen greater than the supply, and power was granted to +colliery owners ‘to apprehend all vagabonds and sturdy beggars’ and set +them to work. This shows that the life of a miner was not at all an +attractive one; and this is not to be wondered at, as will be seen from +some of the allusions made in this article as we proceed. The one fact, +that colliers were, for two centuries after the date referred to—that +is, till near the end of the eighteenth century—bought and sold with +the collieries in which they wrought, is sufficient to stamp mining as +a most undesirable kind of employment, even in those early and more or +less barbarous times. One can easily understand, from this instance +of hardship, how it became necessary to keep up the supply of miners +from the criminal classes. An analogous case still presents itself in +Russia, where one of the most hopeless sentences that can be passed on +political and other offenders is banishment to the Siberian mines. + +Some time after the repeal (about 1790) of the laws enslaving miners, +there would appear to have been experienced a similar difficulty +to recruit the ranks of pit-workers, and one of the means adopted +to procure workmen was only a few degrees less objectionable than +slavery itself. This was what was termed the ‘Bond’ system. A man, +more especially when he had a family, some of them coming to be +helpful at his calling, had the bait held out to him of a bounty if he +signed the bond. By this bond he obliged himself to continue in the +employment of his master for a fixed period, varying from one year to +four years. In return for this, he received the immediate payment of +a bounty, variable in amount in proportion to the period engaged for, +and also regulated by the value of the man’s services. As much as five +pounds might be given. Should the bond be faithfully carried out by +the workman, the master had no claim upon the money; but should the +engagement be brought prematurely to an end, he often retained the +power to claim the amount as a debt, besides having the right to sue +the workman for desertion of service. Of course, the bounty formed a +payment over and above the ordinary wages. + +At the period referred to, it was the practice amongst many classes of +workmen in Scotland to leave their usual avocations during the summer +months, and fee themselves to farmers in the times known familiarly as +‘hay and hairst.’ From this custom, it was often a serious matter for a +coalmaster to find that his workmen had deserted him. The ‘bond’ system +was intended partly to counteract this practice, as well as to meet the +prevailing unpopularity of the work. The system was a thoroughly bad +one for the workmen, as it practically lengthened the period of actual +slavery, though nominally that had disappeared. The inducement to sign +the bond was very much the same as it now is to join the militia—the +bounty-money gave the prospect of a ‘spree’ in both cases, and in this +way the system operated badly. + +We may well be astonished at the statement, that in the memory of men +still living it was the regular thing for miners in some districts +to go to and from the pits with bare feet. The wages were small and +the hours long. We have heard it said by a miner that the grandfather +of a companion a little older than himself wrought in the mines for +twopence a day, he at the time being man grown. This case would take us +back to about the close of the last century, when miners were employed +compulsorily under an Act of Parliament. In any case it is an extreme +instance of the small wages earned for a long time by miners. In regard +to the hours of employment, even till a period well advanced in the +present century, the usual time to begin work was four A.M.; whilst the +hour for allowing the men to quit the mine was six o’clock at night—a +length of day’s work that left little time even for sleep. No wonder +that such a joke should be in circulation that miners’ children in +those days did not know their fathers, as the children were asleep all +the time the father was at home. + +Not only had miners in times past hard work with long hours and small +wages, but even the scanty earnings were settled up only at long +intervals, and on this fact hangs a series of abuses that required a +long and determined struggle to remove. Monthly pays were considered +frequent; and it could hardly be expected that mining human nature +could endure for a month even at a time without some temporary means +being provided. Out of this arose some of the most indefensible +hardships suffered by the miner. ‘Truck’ and ‘Poundage’ in all their +various forms were the foul growths from the system of long delayed +pays. The truck system had many developments. Let us begin with one +of its earliest—namely, ‘lines.’ A workman wants an advance, and goes +to the pay office for that purpose; but instead of getting hard cash, +he receives a line to the following effect: ‘Please give bearer goods +to the value of ____________.’ This line was addressed to a person +owning a general provision and dry-goods store, who had entered into +an arrangement to honour these lines; and when they were brought to +the colliery proprietor at stated intervals, the shopkeeper received +payment of their amount, less an agreed upon commission, varying from +five to ten per cent. But, supposing the storekeeper did not keep some +of the goods required by the workman for his family or personal use, +the workman could obtain a part of the sum marked on the line in money, +less a discount of usually one penny per shilling. As time went on, +however, another development of the truck system took place, and on +the whole it was a little better than that described. The mine-owner +provided a store, managed under his own charge, in which was sold +everything from the proverbial ‘needle to an anchor.’ One of the sore +points in the management of many of these works-stores was that the men +were terrorised into buying all their goods there, and there alone. +Indeed, where advances were given under the line-system, the poor miner +had usually to spend nearly all his money in the master’s stores. Even +in the comparatively rare instances where workmen waited until the end +of the pay without accepting advances, some of the colliery proprietors +used a sort of tyrannical power over the men to force them to buy from +the works-store, and that alone. Under the line-system, barter pure and +simple obtained full play. And yet since the passing in 1831 of what is +popularly known as the Truck Act, this barbarous method of payment was +fully provided against, though the criminality of unscrupulous masters +was not brought home to them until the Truck Commission sat in 1870. +This Commission fully investigated the wholesale evasion of the law of +1831, and brought such a flood of light on the disgraceful proceedings +of many masters, as to at once bring to an end the hateful truck or +tally system. It forms a curious comment on the manner of administering +our laws, that the Truck Act of 1831 only became operative in 1870, +after a most exhaustive inquiry. + +Whilst ‘truck’ was an attempt on the part of some masters to pay +wages in kind and not in sterling money, what is known as ‘poundage’ +was a different system of making a large profit off the poverty of +the workmen—a system, unfortunately, which is not altogether dead +yet. Under the system of poundage, the monthly or larger pays were +continued—short pays would have been its death—but the privilege was +granted to employees of receiving advances in cash during the currency +of the pay. But this was done, let it be noted, for a ‘consideration,’ +that consideration being the grand and simple system of five per +cent.—a shilling a pound. This is how the calculation would work +out: In a four-weekly pay, let us presume that there are only three +advances made—if there were more it would not alter the principle at +work—one made each week for three weeks, and each advance amounting to +one pound. The first advance is twenty shillings for three weeks, the +second for two weeks, and the third for one week—the whole advances +during the currency of the pay amounting to three pounds, and costing +the workman three shillings. This looks a very simple charge—five per +cent.; but when we look at it in the light of being interest on lent +money, we find the first pound has cost 83⅔ per cent. per annum; the +second, 130, and the third, 260 per cent. per annum—or an average of +nearly 160 per cent. per annum on the whole. It must be remembered too +that this was the rate of interest charged, not for an unsecured debt, +but rather for wages actually earned by the employee, though settlement +was deferred for a month through the system of long pays. The writer +has known a firm derive from this one source of income as much as a +thousand pounds a year up to the time a more enlightened policy was +adopted. + +Another system from which unscrupulous employers derived some income, +more trifling in amount than the annoyance and irritation it produced, +was that known as ‘Fines.’ In remote collieries, fines were of regular +occurrence under one pretext or another. It is quite likely that the +system was a survival of feudal jurisdiction exercised by the superior +all over the country, and finally put an end to, as it was supposed, by +Act of Parliament passed in 1747. Instead of the workman being brought +before a magistrate for an alleged offence, a court-martial was held +upon him by the employer or manager, and a fine was usually exacted. +It mattered not whether the offence related to the man’s employment or +to his conduct with his neighbours, whether it had a criminal or only +a civil origin—the court-martial was held, and the result invariably +the same—a fine. The curious thing was that these fines were taken +as a matter of course, the decisions being usually respected after a +little necessary grumbling. The amount of money gained annually from +these fines was not large, so that their justification must have been +that this was the only available method of keeping law and order. In +this view, ‘fines’ may have suited an earlier state of civilisation; +but the system is too rough and ready to be consonant with modern ideas +of justice. The miner has suffered under slavery, and its twin-brother +the bond system; but he has seen these totally disappear, not, however, +very many years before slavery was abolished amongst the aborigines of +our colonies. Truck or the tally system has also become a thing of the +past, though we have seen how hard it was to kill. Fines likewise have +given place to the ordinary operation of the law; and the exaction of +poundage is now only made by a small residuum of coal-masters, on whom +the action of public opinion is slow and uncertain; but the system is +doomed, and must, sooner or later, follow the other abuses we have +enumerated. + +We will now look for a short time at a different phase of the subject, +‘Pitmen, Past and Present;’ and in this no less than in the past, +already treated, it will be found that there is a strong contrast +between the past and the present in the miner’s condition. Take as an +example the ventilation of mines. The benefits brought about in the +miner’s health by the greater quantities of fresh air now forced into +the pits are almost incalculable. A ‘wheezing’ miner of thirty is now +a very rare phenomenon; indeed, apart from the inevitable danger from +accidents—and that is even greatly lessened—the miner has now nearly as +good a chance of long life as any other class of workmen. At a period +within the memory of not very old colliers still living, the pit was +merely a hole in the ground, having no separate upcast and downcast +division, so essential to proper ventilation. In short, there was +absolutely no attempt at the artificial ventilation of the mines. The +only agent at work was the wind on the surface, and this was as often +as not adverse to the pitman. In the heat of summer, the mine became +quite unworkable from the rarefied and polluted nature of the air. From +the operation of various causes, this state of things has been altered +to the great benefit of the miner. An air-tight mid-wall is now made +in each pit: the one side of the shaft being used for drawing out—by +fans or otherwise—the foul air; and the other for the introduction into +the mine of a current of fresh air, which finds its way through all +the workings until it reaches the upcast shaft, and there obtains an +outlet. In addition to this, every shaft has now a communication pit, +either expressly made for that purpose, or advantage may be taken of +some old pit for giving pitmen a certain means of exit and entrance in +the event of a shaft being blocked up through accident. + +The year of the famous battle of Waterloo is one that should ever +be remembered gratefully by miners. It was then that Humphry Davy +perfected his safety-lamp, that has done so much for mankind. How much +it has done to prevent accidents no one can say. Being a preventive, +all we can claim is that it must have rendered the annals of mining +comparatively free of the records of accidents, and given a degree +of comfort and safety in the fieriest mines that otherwise would be +impossible, besides making available for public use a vast amount of +coal that without it would be unworkable. + +In regard to the age of those engaged in mines, thirty, forty, or +fifty years ago it was the rule rather than the exception to send boys +to work at eight or nine years of age. The Mines Act of 1872 wholly +prohibits the employment below ground of women or girls of any age, and +fixes for boys the minimum age at twelve for a full day’s employment, +and that only when a certain educational standard has been reached. +Curiously enough, however, a boy _above_ ground cannot be engaged +full time until he is thirteen years old. Surely it is one of the +unintentional anomalies of the Mines Act that in the open air boys are +precluded from working till they are a year older than they may be at +work underground. A warning note may be sounded in regard to the age at +which boys are engaged. We know that many are employed in mines at the +minimum age of twelve, irrespective of their educational standard. If +the Education Act and the Mines Act are here at variance, or if there +is the want of a public prosecutor to see them enforced, the wants +should be without waste of time supplied, and not cause beneficial +clauses to be inoperative. + +Respecting the education of miners’ children, the Education Acts +have been highly advantageous in giving compulsory powers to School +Boards and managers; but even before their introduction, this class of +children had many comparative benefits in a much less degree enjoyed +by others. The works-schools have always been a feature in Scotch +mining centres. We have not seen any pointed allusion to the fact that +these schools, long before the introduction of Education Acts, solved +the problem of free education in a way satisfactory to all concerned. +Happily, in many places these schools are still left under the old +management, though nominally connected with School Boards. Under the +works-school system, all the workers, whether married or single, agreed +to pay a weekly sum, say, of twopence. This insured the education of +the workman’s family, however large it might be. The unmarried suffered +by this voluntary sacrifice on their part, but they did so at a time +of life when they were least burdened; but the struggling married man +reaped the full benefit when he most needed assistance. In the case +of a workman with four children of school-age at one time, the almost +nominal cost of a halfpenny per week paid for each child’s education. +Small though this sum is, we have known schools self-supporting +under the system for years, with no other aid than the government +grant earned at the annual inspection, besides being able to supply +night-school education in the winter months to the elderly youths of +the place. + +Besides a school, it is one of the evidences of the improved state +of mining communities that they usually have all the adjuncts of +civilisation amongst them. There is the church, where the rich and +the poor meet together, and in this connection it may be said that +miners are as a class either very zealous religionists, or they go to +the other extreme, and care for none of these things. The clergy of +our day is largely recruited from mining villages; whilst the list of +miners who have become home missionaries is a long one. Then there is +the Temperance Society, either a Good Templars’ Lodge, or an offshoot +from some of the other anti-alcohol societies; there is the Library of +well-selected books, which are much read. There is the Savings-bank; +the Reading-room, with a full supply of daily newspapers and other +periodical literature; the String and Reed Bands; the Bowling Green, +Football and Quoiting Field—the amusements of the miners of our day +being all on a higher level than those of forty years ago, when +cock-fighting and dog-fighting monopolised attention. Nor can we omit +to mention that Sick and Funeral and other benevolent Societies are +marked associations in every colliery village worthy of the name. +Miners are indeed remarkably considerate to each other, when any +special emergency occurs to call forth their active sympathy, being +ever ready to subscribe for a brother-worker who has been unfortunate +beyond the common lot. + +The prospect of the temporary nature of a mining village at the +best, forms a strong temptation for nothing but necessary house +accommodation, and that of the barest kind, being provided for workmen. +The mining proprietor takes a lease of a mineral field, in the middle +of a moor it may be, where no houses exist, and where everything has +to be erected and provided. Accommodation for the workpeople has to +be erected whether the field proves successful or not; and when the +field is exhausted, he is in the power of the landlord whether he must +remove the buildings and restore the ground, or leave them as they are. +In either of these cases, the mineral lessee receives no compensation +for his outlay, usually of many thousands of pounds. Hence, as we +have stated, there is much temptation for the colliery lessee to erect +flimsy houses in keeping with the possible shortness of their use. But +colliery owners often rise superior to this evident temptation, and +in spite of the possible unremunerative nature of the mineral field, +excellent houses, with copious water-supply, are provided. Where this +is done, naturally a better class of workers settle down; and when +there is a fairly good prospect before the lessee, it is doubtless +nothing but justice to himself and his workmen to afford the men every +comfort. + +It is not too much to say that in the best collieries, the interests +of the workmen are cared for in the most enlightened manner. Situated +as are many colliery villages, beyond the oversight of regularly +constituted municipalities, the whole onus of sanitary and other +regulations falls upon the master, and he does not shirk his duty +in such cases. Means of social enjoyment are provided—the physical, +intellectual, moral, and spiritual well-being of the populace are cared +for, and the colliers of to-day are in consequence an intelligent +and respectable class of men. Crime is proportionately small amongst +mining villages, and those who best know the miner are aware that he is +possessed of much kindness of heart, and that in the prosecution of his +dangerous calling he often exhibits true heroism. + + + + +GEORGE HANNAY’S LOVE AFFAIR. + + +CHAPTER V.—THE EDITOR’S SANCTUM—A DISCLOSURE. + +Alfred Roberton felt the smart of Nan’s summary dismissal more than he +could have expected, or even than he owned to himself. His vanity was +sorely hurt, and he lost a good deal of that audacious _insouciance_ +in his manner towards the opposite sex for which he had been before +remarkable. He sent back Nan’s letters honourably enough, and set +himself to forget her, as she had him. In order to effect this, he +determined to supplant the old love by a new; and commenced paying +marked attentions to Miss Curtiss, the twenty-thousand-pound young +lady. His suit prospered, and the fair one capitulated; but the terms +of the surrender were to be fixed by her friends. They made objections +to the smallness and uncertainty of his income. On the other hand, +Alfred’s solicitor found the young lady’s properties were so heavily +mortgaged as only to leave a very small margin of income; and the +result was the negotiations were broken off. Then, somehow or another, +his society was no longer so eagerly sought after. A young violinist +had taken the place he formerly held in Mrs Judson’s social circle, +and when that gentleman was present, Alfred was cast entirely in the +shade. But there was worse than that: he could no longer find a market +for the remainder of his manuscripts. The publishers and editors who +had patronised him before were desirous of seeing what course the +_Olympic_ took with regard to him. It was very singular, they thought, +that there never was any second article from his pen inserted in it. +Some ill-speaking folks even went the length of hinting that he wasn’t +‘Ariel’ at all; that the claim he made to that _nom de plume_ was a +mere ruse to get into society, and get some of his trashy manuscripts +palmed off on unsuspicious editors and publishers. + +He felt these things very grievous to bear: the only hope that buoyed +him up was, that when the editor of the _Olympic_ returned to town, all +would be put right. He would go straight to him and say: ‘I am Ariel! +and here is a much superior sketch to the one I first sent you. Insert +it, and I will not haggle with you about the amount of the honorarium, +for I know you are a generous paymaster.’ Then all would again be well; +he would resume his proper place in society, and his writings would be +as eagerly sought after as ever. + +It was towards the end of March when Mr Hannay returned from his +prolonged continental tour. Allowing him a day or two to get settled +down, one blowy, blustering forenoon, Alfred sallied forth to call on +him. He sent in his card, and in a few minutes was in the editor’s +sanctum. + +‘Pray, be seated, sir,’ said Mr Hannay politely. ‘I—I do not remember +your name, Mr Roberton.’ + +‘Ah, I daresay not,’ he replied, smiling. ‘You’ll know me better by my +_nom de plume_. I am Ariel!’ + +Alfred was gratified to see the slight start which followed this +important announcement, and he likewise became conscious that he was +being inventoried by a pair of keen black eyes. He put a favourable +interpretation on these indications of interest. + +‘And what then, Mr Ariel, can I have the pleasure of doing for you?’ +said Mr Hannay after a brief pause. + +‘Well, sir, I have an excellent little paper here,’ Alfred replied, +producing a manuscript from his coat-pocket. ‘It is entitled “A Week’s +Yachting on the Rhine.” It is very carefully written; and I can vouch +for its accuracy in details, as it is extended from notes I made when +yachting there with a friend.’ + +‘Oh, very well, sir,’ said the editor, laying the paper aside. ‘I’ll +take a look at it. But I can hold out hardly the least hope of being +able to accept it. We are literally deluged with that sort of matter, +and can’t find room for one in fifty of the manuscripts that are sent +us.—At anyrate,’ he added, laughing, ‘it would require to be a little +better than your “Ramble in Kirkcudbright.”’ + +What could all this mean? thought the bewildered Alfred. Was the editor +making a fool of him? At the very suggestion, he flushed red, and it +was with an effort he was able to stammer forth: ‘And pray, sir, if the +article was so worthless, why did you accept it? And why did you send +me so handsome an honorarium?’ + +The editor looked both surprised and puzzled. Instead of replying to +the question, he asked one: ‘Are you the gentleman who is engaged to be +married to Miss Anne Porteous?’ + +‘No!—Yes! That is to say, I was engaged, but am not so now.’ + +‘Indeed! And how is that?’ said the editor, with an air of interest. + +‘Well, you see,’ said Alfred, who had now regained his self-possession, +‘my friends advised me to break off the connection. You know, between +ourselves, it wouldn’t do for a literary man of any standing to marry a +common innkeeper’s daughter; although I must say the girl herself was +well enough, and might have passed muster after a little training.’ + +The editor’s eyes became blacker, keener, and sharper—they seemed +almost to flash fire as he said; ‘You would know what she was, I +suppose, when you sought her love.—Yes? Then what right had you to +avail yourself of that as an excuse for casting her off? It’s about the +most unmanly thing I ever’—— + +‘Hold, hold!’ cried Alfred, who saw he had gone on the wrong tack for +conciliating the editor’s favour. ‘You misunderstand the matter. My +friends wanted me to break off the marriage; but I never proposed such +a thing to the young lady. I meant to marry her in two or three years +honourably. But she wrote to me; and I went down to see her—and we had +a quarrel, and she broke off the engagement herself—upon my honour, she +did!’ + +The editor’s features relaxed their tension; there was almost the +suggestion of a smile lurking in the corners of his mouth. ‘Well, Mr +Roberton, I am glad you have cleared your character so well.—You are +anxious to know why I accepted your first paper. This, I think, will +explain it,’ he added, unlocking a private drawer and handing him a +manuscript. + +Alfred looked at it with a stupefied air. Here were a dozen sheets of +foolscap covered with Nan’s neat lady-like writing, and signed Ariel; +reply to be addressed, Ariel, Glenluce post-office.—To lie till called +for. + +He felt as if he were listening to a voice in a dream, as the editor +went on to say: ‘You see, sir, I heard that Nan was going to be married +to a young student she had met in Brussels. Now, students, as a rule, +are not over-burdened with ready cash; and when I got the manuscript +in her handwriting, I readily came to the conclusion that it was a +production of her lover’s, and that she had copied it out in her own +handwriting, thinking that, for old acquaintance’ sake, I would stretch +a point, and give it admission to our pages, and pay handsomely for it. +This I did; for I thought that, as her father would be certain to be +opposed to the match, a little ready cash would be useful to her and +her lover in taking up house. In fact, I may say I sent the little sum +as a marriage present! But I cannot understand how you are not aware of +all this.’ + +The whole truth was now made plain to the unfortunate lover. He +remembered now her snatching the letter from his hand and running +up-stairs with it. He remembered now her red and sleepy-looking eyes +the next morning. He knew now the cause—the devoted girl had sat up all +night copying his manuscript, so that it might have the better chance +of acceptance! How carefully she had kept the knowledge to herself of +the great service she had done him, and that in spite of his foolish +gasconading talk! To her and her alone he owed his little brief season +of popularity and success: and that popularity and success was the +cause of his looking down on her! Oh, what a blinded fool he had +been—blinded by his own selfish vanity! + +He mumbled a few words of explanation to the editor, and left the +office a sadder and, it is to be hoped, a wiser man. He thought of +flying to Nan, throwing himself at her feet, and entreating her +forgiveness and love. But remembering the proud white face, the +outstretched arm pointing to the door, and the clear emphatic ‘Go!’ +twice repeated, he shook his head sadly, and muttered, ‘Too late—too +late.’ It may be said here that he gave up literature for good and all, +obtained a situation as a surgeon in an emigrant ship, fell in love +with a lady-patient during the voyage, married her on their arrival at +Sydney, and starting the practice of his profession, settled down there. + +As for the editor of the _Olympic_, he went down as usual the following +September to Lochenbreck, repeated a question he had asked before, and +got a different reply. Nan is now his wife. + + + + +THE MONTH: SCIENCE AND ARTS. + + +The late meeting of the British Association at Birmingham has proved +a success with regard both to the attendance of members and to the +importance of the various papers read in the several sections. Next +year the Association will meet at Manchester, and the year after at +Bath. The suggestion from Sydney, that the Association should in 1888 +visit New South Wales and hold its meeting there in the January of that +year, cannot, on account of many difficulties which are foreseen, be +accepted in its entirety. But it is intended that about fifty members +shall form a representative delegation to our Australian colony, their +expenses being liberally defrayed by the government of New South Wales. +It is very pleasing to record this little sign of the good-fellowship +which exists between far-off Australia and the mother-country. + +We expressed a hope some months ago that an institution of a permanent +nature might grow out of the splendid Indian and Colonial Exhibition at +South Kensington, which in a few days will close its prosperous career. +It has now been proposed by the Prince of Wales that the Jubilee of +Queen Victoria’s reign shall be commemorated by an Institute which +should represent the Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce of Her Majesty’s +Colonial and Indian Empire, and which should be at once a Museum, an +Exhibition, and the proper locality for the discussion of Colonial and +Indian subjects. + +Very little is heard now of tempered or toughened glass for domestic +purposes, although, a year or two back, such glass was much advertised +and its praises constantly sung. We understand that the reason why it +has at present disappeared from public notice is that its efficiency +does not last. When fresh from the factory, it can be dropped from +a height on to the floor and knocked about with impunity. But some +gradual and not understood change occurs in its constitution, for +after a short time it will fly to pieces without any apparent cause. +It is said, too, that unscrupulous traders who have a stock of the +faulty material are selling it as ordinary glass. Those, therefore, +who experience unaccountable breakages, will know to what cause to +attribute them. A really unbreakable glass would be such a boon, that +it is to be hoped that further experiment will soon show how it can be +manufactured. + +From some recent experiments in New York, it would seem that the danger +of using dynamite as a charge for explosive projectiles has been +obviated. The weapon used was a four and a half inch rifled gun, with +a charge of three and a quarter pounds of gunpowder, the experimental +shells holding each more than one pound of dynamite. To avoid any +risk from concussion, and premature explosion of the shell in the +bore of the gun, the cartridge and shell were separated by wads made +of asbestos. Twenty-seven shells were fired with such safety to the +gunners, that the extraordinary precautions observed during the first +rounds were ignored during the later ones. + +The boat which the other day twice crossed the Channel between Dover +and Calais affords an example of the rapid progress which has lately +been made in the science of electricity. This little craft, which +is only thirty-seven feet in length, glided over the water with no +visible means of propulsion. The voyage was an experimental one, and +was designed to show that this plan of electrical propulsion was as +practicable on the sea as before it had been proved to be on inland +waters. Such a boat could, say her promoters, be carried hanging to +the davits of a ship, and be ready for immediate use. The required +electrical current is derived from accumulators, or secondary +batteries, stored and acting as ballast beneath the deck floor of +the little vessel. These require to be charged by a dynamo machine +at intervals, and such a charge this Channel trip amply proves will +suffice for a run of between forty and fifty miles. Supposing that the +system were adopted for torpedo vessels, it is obvious that this amount +of storage capacity would be far more than sufficient for ordinary +needs. + +Another vessel which obtains its motive-power from a very different +source, but which must also be looked upon as an experimental boat, +has been invented and built by Messrs Secor of Brooklyn. Unlike the +electric boat, it possesses no screw propeller or other moving parts. +But it is furnished on each side with open ports below the water-level, +which are in communication with an ‘exploding chamber.’ This chamber is +constructed of steel, and is capable of sustaining an enormous internal +pressure. It is filled with charges of petroleum vapour and air under +pressure, and this explosive mixture is ignited by electricity. It +will therefore be seen that the propelling apparatus of this boat may +be compared to a gas-engine; but the explosions, which occur several +times in a minute, instead of forcing forward a piston to act upon a +fly-wheel, impinge upon the water at the stern of the vessel, and so +push the boat forward. Should this method of driving a vessel through +the water prove efficient, it will certainly be economical, for little +more than half a barrel of petroleum will suffice for a twenty-four +hours’ run. + +Another invention from Brooklyn is of far greater importance than +the one just recorded, for it is of a life-saving character, and is +designed to prevent those collisions at sea which seem to be so greatly +on the increase. It consists of a marine brake, and is the contrivance +of Mr John M‘Adams. The experimental vessel, _The Florence_, which +is fitted with the brake, has been reported upon officially, and the +behaviour of the apparatus is highly commended. The brake consists +of two wings made of steel, one on each side of the vessel and below +water-level. These have the appearance of flat boards about eight feet +square, hinged to the stern-post, and which when not in action fold +forwards, secured by hidden chains, close to and touching the vessel’s +sides. In case of danger of collision, the touch of a button by the +captain on the bridge will loosen these chains, and cause some springs +to act upon the wings, so that they fly out at right angles to the +sides of the ship. In this position they are held by the now lengthened +chains, and form an obstacle to the water, which checks the motion of +the vessel immediately, even if the engines continue to work. If the +engines are stopped at the moment the brake is put into action, the +ship is brought to a standstill in twenty-two seconds. If, again, the +engine be stopped and reversed at the moment of working the brake, the +vessel commences to go astern in the remarkably short space of twelve +seconds. It will be seen from these results that the invention gives +every promise of being of great use. Besides being efficient, it is +simple in character, and, from its nature, cannot be a very expensive +additional fitting to a ship. + +The lamentable accident at the Crarae Quarries, by which seven persons +lost their lives, is happily a most unusual one, although in character +it is closely allied with those fatalities from ‘choke-damp’ by +which so many poor colliers have been killed. The explosion of gas +underground, or of gunpowder above ground, leads to the evolution of +a quantity of carbonic acid gas, or, to call it by its proper name, +carbon dioxide, the principal product of combustion in either case. In +the workings of a mine, this gas fills every available space, and has +no outlet. In the quarry, on the occasion referred to, much the same +condition of affairs existed, for there was no wind to carry off the +deadly vapour, and its natural heaviness made it cling to the place of +its creation. The surviving relatives of the victims of this accident +have our heartfelt sympathy. They will be comforted by knowing that +death under such conditions is supposed to be painless. It is a sending +to sleep, but a sleep, unfortunately, from which there is no awakening +in this world. + +The little town of East Moulsey is now lighted, so far as its public +lamps are concerned, by paraffin instead of gas, as heretofore. The +reason of this apparent retrogression is found in the excessive demands +of the Gas Company, who required the local board to pay at the rate of +four guineas per annum for each lamp. This the local board refused to +do, and provided the district under their care with paraffin lamps. +They are rewarded for their pluck by finding that the cost of the +oil-lamps is but one half of the charge demanded by the Gas Company, +and by hearing the generally expressed opinion of the people that the +place had never before been so well lighted. + +The recent earthquakes, which have caused such fearful havoc and loss +of life both in Southern Europe and in America, remind us that our +knowledge of the causes of such terrible phenomena is very meagre, and +that science has not yet discovered any means by which their occurrence +may be predicted. But, in spite of these admitted facts, there are +not wanting on occasions of earthquake self-styled prophets, who will +boldly declare what the morrow will bring forth. Such mischievous +charlatans do much harm, for they terrify the ignorant at a time when +men’s nerves have been already unstrung by recent calamities. In +the year 1750, when London felt a sharp earthquake shock, a prophet +announced the immediate coming of the judgment day. Another predicted +a terrible earthquake for a certain night, with the result that the +people encamped in thousands in Hyde Park. Coming nearer to present +times, we may note the destructive earthquake in 1881 in the island +of Ischia. Here, again, there was a prophecy that there would not be +another visitation of the kind for eighty years. But only two years +after this the beautiful island was shaken to its foundations, and many +lives were lost. During the late disaster at Charleston, a prediction +was made that upon the 29th of September a fearful catastrophe was to +take place. The originator of this mischievous statement should be +severely punished. + +We have lately received from Messrs Burton Brothers of Dunedin, +New Zealand, a set of most interesting photographs, taken in the +neighbourhood of Tarawera and Rotomahana, immediately after the late +volcanic eruption. Were we not aware of the terrible facts, we should +suppose that these were winter scenes, for the trees are stripped of +their foliage, and everything is covered with a white ash, which in the +photographs looks likes snow. The ruins of M‘Rae’s hotel at Wairoa, of +which there are front and back views, exhibit such a mass of broken +masonry and twisted iron-work, that one can hardly believe that the +place has not been bombarded. + +We are glad to learn, from the _New Zealand Herald_, that the layer of +ashes which covers so many miles of the country, will not, as was at +first feared, choke and kill every blade of grass, but will probably in +time act as a valuable fertilising agent. Already the grass is in many +places growing up through the dust; but the ash has been submitted to +experiment, and is found to be really nourishing to plants grown in it. +Mr Pond, a resident analytical chemist, obtained several samples of the +volcanic dust, and sowed in it grass and clover seeds, and kept them +moistened with distilled water. In each case, we are told, the seedling +plants have come up well and are growing vigorously; it is therefore +hoped that those districts which have received only a light covering of +this dreaded dust will find that the visitation will in the end prove +beneficial to their crops. + +As we stated last month, the armour-plated ship _Resistance_ has +lately formed a target for various experiments with different types +of guns. The unfortunate old ship is now being subjected to attacks +by torpedoes, the object being to determine the nearness at which one +of those submarine mines can be exploded without injury to a vessel +when protected by wire-netting. It is proved that if the defensive +netting is supported on booms thirty feet from the ship, it forms +a good protection from torpedoes, and that though a torpedo should +explode on touching the netting, as it will do if fitted with the new +form of pistol trigger, which is very sensitive, the explosion will +do no great harm. The distance of the netting from the ship will be +gradually reduced until the _Resistance_ can resist no longer, and must +be destroyed. + +A strange sight was lately witnessed at Salzburg, in the shape of +a vast procession of butterflies, which passed over the city in a +south-westerly direction. They seemed to fly in groups, and while +preserving one line of direction in flight, the groups revolved round +that line. This aërial insect army must have numbered millions of +individual butterflies. From those which fell to the ground, it was +seen that they were of the kind known as willow-spinners. + +Photographic tourists—and their name now is legion—will all admit +that their greatest drawback is represented by the weight of the +glass plates which they must carry from place to place in addition to +their other apparatus. This difficulty has just been obviated by the +introduction of a material as a support for the photographic image +which is as light as paper, so that in the compass of an ordinary +two-shilling railway novel, the tourist can carry with him the +sensitised material for a couple of hundred pictures. This material +is known as Woodbury tissue, and was the last invention of the late +eminent experimenter who gave his name to the beautiful Woodburytype +process of photography. His successors have brought the tissue to +marketable perfection, and produce a material as translucent as +glass and one-twentieth part of its weight. The tissue is used in a +singularly ingenious form of dark slide or double back, which can be +readily adjusted to existing forms of cameras. + +In the _Camera_ magazine, a very curious phenomenon in connection +with photography is recorded by the person who observed it. He took a +portrait of a child apparently in full health and with a clear skin. +The negative picture showed the face to be thickly covered with an +eruption. Three days afterwards, the child was covered with spots due +to prickly heat. ‘The camera had seen and photographed the eruption +three days before it was visible to the eye.’ Another case of a +somewhat similar kind is also recorded where a child showed spots on +his portrait which were invisible on his face a fortnight previous to +an attack of smallpox. It is suggested that these cases might point to +a new method of medical diagnosis. + +The Severn tunnel, one of the greatest engineering undertakings of +modern times, is at last finished, and will be shortly open for +passenger traffic, as it has been some weeks for the conveyance of +goods. The total cost of this great work is estimated at two millions +sterling. The cost has been greatly augmented by the unlooked-for +difficulties which have cropped up during the progress of the works. +Commencing in 1873, the contractor had made steady progress for the +following six years, when a land spring was accidentally tapped, +and the partially constructed tunnel was flooded. Again, in 1881 the +seawater found out a weak place on the Gloucestershire side of the +works, and poured in in torrents. Once more, in 1883 the old land +spring again filled the works with water, which had to be pumped out; +and finally, about the same time, a tidal wave brought about a great +amount of destruction to the works; so we may look upon the completed +tunnel not only as a great monument of engineering skill, but as +an example of unusual difficulties well grappled with, and finally +overcome. + + + + +OCCASIONAL NOTES. + + +PHARAOH’S HOUSE. + +It is but a month or two ago that people of an archæological turn of +mind were delighted with the tidings sent home by the Egypt Exploration +Fund of the discovery of Pharaoh’s House in Tahpanhes. An account of +the wonderful old ruin and its reliques of a past civilisation has +been already given; but it may interest many to know that a number of +antiquities have been collected and sent home, and have recently been +on view at the Archæological Institute at Oxford Mansion. It will be +remembered that the ruins were as much those of a military fortress as +of a royal residence, and the objects recovered are almost entirely +those which would be likely to be found in either of two such places. + +The first things of interest are the foundation deposits, from under +the four corners of the castle, which consist of small vessels, little +tablets engraved with the name and titles of the royal founder, +Psammetichus I., specimens of ore, &c. The chief articles of jewelry +are earrings, rings, amulets, and engraved stones bearing traces of +Greek workmanship, having been probably manufactured by Greek jewellers +in the town of Tahpanhes, or Daphnæ. Numbers of small weights have been +turned up while digging among the ruins, which it is thought were for +weighing the gold and precious stones previous to purchase. + +Rome, too, has left her mark among the charred remains of this ancient +stronghold, and some rings with names inscribed upon them, and ten gems +of good Roman work, prove an intercourse with that nation. There is +a little silver shrine case in which is a beautiful statuette of the +Egyptian war-god, Mentu. Possibly, it may have once been a talisman +belonging to Pharaoh Hophra. A silver ram’s head and gold handle +complete the list of the most important specimens of jewelry. + +Among the domestic treasures are a long knife, fourteen inches long +and quite flat; this comes from Pharaoh’s kitchen; so also do the +small frying-pans, and some bowls, bottles, dishes, plates and cups, +all of which date from B.C. 550, and were probably used daily by the +royal household. An old brasier and some ring-stands have also been +brought home. From the butler’s pantry come amphoræ stoppers, stamped +with the cartouches of Psammetichus I., Necho, Psammetichus II., and +Aahmes. These were clay stoppers, sealed by the inspector, and then +plastered over and stamped with the royal oval. Ten specimens of these +Mr Petrie has sent home. Arrow-heads, a sword-handle and part of the +blade, a horse’s bit of twisted pattern, some spikes from the top of +a Sardinian mercenary’s helmet, knives and lances, and some fragments +of scale-armour, show that the old castle had once been a military +stronghold. + +This is but an outline, showing the kind of specimens found among the +ruins of El Kasr el Bint el Yahudî (the Castle of the Jew’s Daughter), +and serve to add to the innumerable proofs—if proof were needed—of the +advanced civilisation of the ancient Egyptians. It is believed that +those antiquities will eventually be divided between the Museum at +Boulak (Cairo), the British Museum, the Museum of Fine Arts at Boston, +U.S., and several of the provincial museums of Great Britain. + + +THE EMIGRANTS’ INFORMATION OFFICE. + +It is satisfactory to know that government has at last opened an +office for the dissemination of authentic information to intending +emigrants. The emigration schemes before the country are legion; but +those who apply here will be safe to receive information as to the +British colony to which they propose to emigrate, which does not spring +from any interested motive. At the same time it is always safe for +intending settlers to supplement any knowledge received in this way by +authoritative handbooks, books of travel, and the experiences of former +settlers. Now that there is a prospect of the Indian and Colonial +Exhibition becoming a permanent institution in our midst, we will be +kept pretty well informed as to the position and prospects of our +different colonies. The premises of the Emigrants’ Information Office +are at 31 Broadway, Westminster, London, S.W. The office will be open +every day from twelve noon to eight P.M., except on Wednesdays, when +it will be open from ten A.M. to one P.M. The circulars issued by the +office will be sent to the secretaries of any societies or institutions +who will send in their addresses to the chief clerk. + + +INCREASED CONSUMPTION OF BRITISH-COLONIAL TEAS. + +In a paper read by Mr L. J. Shand of the Ceylon Court at the Colonial +and Indian Exhibition, the present position of the Indian tea-trade was +reviewed. British-colonial teas, which in 1865 formed but three per +cent. of the total quantity consumed in the United Kingdom, amounted +to sixteen per cent. in 1875, and to thirty-three per cent. in 1885. +India had two hundred and fifty thousand acres under tea-cultivation, +and produced seventy million pounds of tea; the capital invested in +the industry was sixteen million pounds; and a quarter of a million +of Her Majesty’s subjects, who indirectly contributed to the income +tax of Great Britain, were engaged in it. The tea-plant was introduced +to Ceylon from China about the year 1842; but it was not till coffee +was stricken by disease that attention was generally directed to the +cultivation of tea in Ceylon. In 1873, a small parcel of twenty-three +pounds of tea was exported from Ceylon; this year, nine million +pounds would be exported, and, estimating the acreage now planted with +tea, the exports in 1890 would be forty million pounds. Proceeding to +consider why British people should drink British-colonial teas, Mr +Shand said that these teas came into the London market pure; there +was no recorded evidence of adulteration having been discovered. The +adulteration of China tea, on the other hand, had been the subject of +several volumes and of special legislation. The purity of Indian and +Ceylon teas made them more sensitive than the ordinary China mixture. +It was not necessary to put such large quantities into the teapot, but +it was all the more necessary that the water should be boiling and that +the tea should not be allowed to stand too long. Disappointment should +not be felt because the liquor was not black; that was in consequence +of the tea being quite pure and unmixed with blacklead or indigo. If +Indian and Ceylon teas were fairly tried and carefully treated, they +would be found more economical than China teas. + + + + +IF THIS WERE SO. + + + O Love, if I could see you standing here, + I, to whom the memory of a scene— + This lane, tree-shadowed, with the summer’s light + Falling in golden showers, the boughs between, + Upon your upturned face—shines out as clear, + Against the background dark of many a year, + As yonder solitary starlet bright + Gleams on the storm-clad bosom of the night. + + If this were so—if you should come to me + With your calm, angel face, framed in with gold, + And lay your hand in mine as long ago + You laid it coldly, would the love untold + Hidden within my heart, set my lips free + To speak of it and know the certainty + Of love crowned or rejected—yes or no? + O Love, I could not speak if this were so. + + But if you came to meet me in the lane + With footsteps swifter than you used of yore— + And if your eyes grew brighter, dear, as though + They gladdened at my coming back once more— + If, when I held your little hand again, + Your calmness grew less still, then not in vain + My heart would strive to speak, for it would know + What words to utter, Love, if this were so! + + KATE MELLERSH. + + * * * * * + +The Conductor of CHAMBERS’S JOURNAL begs to direct the attention of +CONTRIBUTORS to the following notice: + + _1st._ All communications should be addressed to the ‘Editor, 339 + High Street, Edinburgh.’ + + _2d._ For its return in case of ineligibility, postage-stamps should + accompany every manuscript. + + _3d._ To secure their safe return if ineligible, ALL MANUSCRIPTS, + whether accompanied by a letter of advice or otherwise, _should + have the writer’s Name and Address written upon them_ IN FULL. + + _4th._ Offerings of Verse should invariably be accompanied by a + stamped and directed envelope. + +_If the above rules are complied with, the Editor will do his best to +insure the safe return of ineligible papers._ + + * * * * * + +Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON, +and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH. + + * * * * * + +_All Rights Reserved._ + + * * * * * + +[Transcriber’s note—the following changes have been made to this text. + +Page 693: Villiars to Villiers—“down Villiers Street”.] + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75329 *** |