Faces and Places

Henry W. (Henry William) Lucy

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• Publié par: opsae
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 40
• Langue: English

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Places, by Henry William Lucy
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Title: Faces and Places
Author: Henry William Lucy
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Language: English
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The Whitefriars Library of Wit & Humour
Henry W. Lucy

FACES AND PLACES

By
HENRY W. LUCY
(AUTHOR OF "EAST BY WEST: A RECORD OF A JOURNEY ROUND THE WORLD")

WITH PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR AND ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON:
HENRY AND CO, BOUVERIE STREET, EC


To J.R. Robinson, Editor and Manager of the "Daily News", at whose
suggestion some of these articles were written, they are in their
collected form inscribed, with sincere regard, by an old friend and
colleague.
London, February 1892.


CONTENTS
Chap. Page
I. "FRED" BURNABY 1
II. A NIGHT ON A MOUNTAIN 23
III. THE PRINCE OF WALES 35
IV. A HISTORIC CROWD 41
V. WITH PEGGOTTY AND HAM 52
VI. TO THOSE ABOUT TO BECOME JOURNALISTS 62
VII. A CINQUE PORT 69
VIII. OYSTERS AND ARCACHON 77
IX. CHRISTMAS EVE AT WATTS'S 86
X. NIGHT AND DAY ON THE CARS IN CANADA 100
XI. EASTER ON LES AVANTS 108
XII. THE BATTLE OF MERTHYR 125
XIII. MOSQUITOES AND MONACO 137
XIV. A WRECK IN THE NORTH SEA 145
XV. A PEEP AT AN OLD HOUSE OF COMMONS 152
XVI. SOME PREACHERS I HAVE KNOWN:--
Mr. Moody 170
"Bendigo" 176
"Fiddler Joss"
181Dean Stanley 184
Dr. Moffat 187
Mr. Spurgeon
190
In the Ragged Church 196

FACES AND PLACES

CHAPTER I.
"FRED" BURNABY
I made the acquaintance of Colonel Fred Burnaby in a balloon. In such
strange quarters, at an altitude of over a thousand feet, commenced a
friendship that for years was one of the pleasantest parts of my life,
and remains one of its most cherished memories.
It was on the 14th of September, 1874. A few weeks earlier two French
aeronauts, a Monsieur and Madame Duruof, making an ascent from Calais,
had been carried out to sea, and dropping into the Channel, had passed
through enough perils to make them a nine days' wonder. Arrangements had
been completed for them to make a fresh ascent from the grounds of the
Crystal Palace, and half London seemed to have gone down to Sydenham to
see them off. I was young and eager then, and having but lately joined
the staff of the Daily News as special correspondent, was burning for
an opportunity to distinguish myself. So I went off to the Crystal
Palace resolved to go up in the balloon.
"No," said Mr. Coxwell, when I asked him if there were a seat to spare
in the car. "No; I am sorry to say that you are too late. I have had at
least thirty applications for seats, and as the car will hold only six
persons, and as practically there are but two seats for outsiders, you
will see that it is impossible."
This was disappointing, the more so as I had brought with me a large
military cloak and a pair of seal-skin gloves, under a general but
well-defined impression that the thing to do up in a balloon was to keep
yourself warm. Mr. Coxwell's account of the position of affairs so
completely shut out the prospect of a passage in the car that I
reluctantly resigned the charge of the military cloak and gloves, and
strolled down to the enclosure where the process of inflating the
balloon was going on. Here was congregated a vast crowd, which increased
in density as four o'clock rang out, and the great mass of brown silk
into which the gas was being assiduously pumped began to assume a
pear-like shape, and sway to and fro in the light air of the autumn
afternoon.About this time the heroes of the hour, Monsieur and Madame Duruof
walked into the enclosure, accompanied by Mr. Coxwell and Mr. Glaisher.
A little work was being extensively sold in the Palace bearing on the
title-page, over the name "M. Duruof," a murderous-looking face, the
letter-press purporting to be a record of the life and adventures of
the French aeronauts. Happily M. Duruof bore but the slightest
resemblance to this portrait, being a young man of pleasing appearance,
with a good, firm, frank-looking face.
By a quarter to five o'clock the monster balloon was almost fully
charged, and was swaying to and fro in a wild, fitful manner, that could
not have been beheld without trepidation by any of the thirty gentlemen
who had so judiciously booked seats in advance. The wickerwork car now
secured to the balloon was half filled with ballast and crowded with
men, whilst others hung on to the ropes and to each other in the effort
to steady it.
But they could not do much more than keep it from mounting into mid-air.
Hither and thither it swung, parting in swift haste the curious throng
that encompassed it, and dragging the men about as if they were ounce
weights. The wind seemed to be rising and the faces of the experienced
aeronauts grew graver and graver, answers to the constantly repeated
question, "Where is it likely to come down?" becoming increasingly
vague. At last Mr. Glaisher, looking up at the sky and round at the
neighbouring trees bending under the growing blast, put his veto upon
Madame Duruof's forming one of the party of voyagers.
"We are not in France," he said. "The people will not insist upon a
woman going up when there is any danger. The descent is sure to be
rough, will possibly be perilous, so Madame Duruof had better stay where
she is."
Madame Duruof was ready to go, but was at least equally willing to stay
behind, and so it was settled that she should not leave the palace
grounds by the balloon. I cast a lingering thought on the military cloak
and the seal-skin gloves, in safe keeping in a remote part of the
building. If Madame was not going there might be room for a substitute.
But again Mr. Coxwell would not listen to the proposal. There were at
least thirty prior applicants; some had even paid their money, and they
must have the preference.
At five o'clock all was ready for the start. M. Wilfrid de Fonvielle,
a French aeronaut and journalist, took off his hat, and in full gaze of
a sympathising and deeply interested crowd deliberately attired himself
in a Glengarry cap, a thick overcoat, and a muffler. M Duruof put on
his overcoat, and Mr. Barker, Mr. Coxwell's assistant, seated on the
ring above the car, began to take in light cargo in the shape of
aneroids, barometers, bottles of brandy and water, and other useful
articles. M. Duruof scrambled into the car, one of the men who had been
weighing it down getting out to make room for him. Then M. de Fonvielle,
amid murmurs of admiration from the crowd, nimbly boarded the little
ship, and immediately began taking observations. There was a pause, and
Mr. Coxwell, who stood by the car, prepared for the rush of the Thirty.
But nobody volunteered. Names were called aloud; only the wind, sighingamongst the trees made answer.
"Il faut partir," said M. Duruof, somewhat impatiently. Then a
middle-aged gentleman, who, I afterwards learned, had come all the way
from Cambridge to make the journey, and who had only just arrived
breathless on the ground, was half-lifted, half-tumbled in, amid
agonised entreaties from Barker to "mind them bottles." The Thirty had
unquestionably had a fair chance, and Mr. Coxwell made no objection as I
passed him and got into the car, followed by one other gentleman, who
brought the number up to the stipulated half-dozen. We were all ready to
start, but it was thought desirable that Madame Duruof should show
herself in the car. So she was lifted in, and the balloon allowed to
mount some twenty feet, frantically held by ropes by the crowd below. It
descended again, Madame Duruof got out, and in her place came tumbling
in a splendid fellow, some six feet four high, broad-chested to boot,
who instantly made supererogatory the presence of half a dozen of the
bags of ballast that lay in the bottom of the car.
It was an anxious moment, with the excited multitude spread round far as
the eye could reach, the car leaping under the swaying balloon, and the
anxious, hurried men straining at the ropes. But I remember quite well
sitting at the bottom of the car and wondering when the new-comer would
finish getting in. I dare say he was nimble enough, but his full arrival
seemed like the paying out of a ship's cable.
This was Fred Burnaby, only Captain then, unknown to fame, with Khiva
unapproached, and the wilds of Asia Minor untrodden by his horse's
hoofs. His presence on the grounds was accidental, and his undertaking
of the journey characteristic. He had invited some friends to dine
with him that night at his rooms, then in St. James's Street. Hearing
of the proposed balloon ascent, he felt drawn to see the voyagers off,
purposing to be home in time to dress for dinner. The defection of the
Thirty appearing to leave an opening f