Chatterbox, 1906 Part 64

STORIES FROM AFRICA.

VII.--THE BEAUTY OF WOW-WOW.

We have mentioned the two companions who accompanied Major Denham to Kouka, and were left there while he made his campaign with the Sultan's army. But Lieutenant, afterwards Captain, Hugh Clapperton is far too delightful and interesting a person to be dismissed with so little notice. Before he joined Major Denham he had managed to get into his thirty-four years adventures enough to fill a volume, and after returning with the Major to England and contributing his part to the story of the expedition, we find him starting again, six months later, with Captain Pearce and Dr. Morrison as his companions, from Badagry, on the Bight of Benin, on the West Coast of Africa. But the deadly climate soon diminished the little party. It was only three weeks before Clapperton had to read the burial service over the graves of his two comrades, and found himself left to carry on their work, with his young servant, Richard Lauder, as his only companion.

But Clapperton was not the man to turn back from any task to which he had set his hand, and in Lauder he had a colleague ready to follow him through thick and thin. The two were as unlike in appearance as they could well be: Clapperton was six feet high and broad in proportion, a strong, genial, simple-hearted sailor, with a love of fun which must have helped him through many a dark day; and Lauder was small and slim, less robust, and probably less light-hearted than his master, but with a pa.s.sion for change and adventure which had drawn him from his Cornish home, against the advice of friends and kindred, to volunteer for the expedition. And in Captain Clapperton he found a hero to match with any of those whose stories had delighted his boyhood. It is from him that we have the history of their journey together, and every page is full of loving admiration for the master whose courage no danger or suffering could daunt, and who was yet full of thought and consideration for his companion, carrying him on his back across the rivers when he was too weak to ford them on foot, and writing continually to cheer him when obliged to leave him behind to rest and recover. There are records of hair-breadth escapes, of suffering and homesickness and parting, as in most stories of African travel, but this tale has to do with laughter instead of tears.

The travellers halted for some time at a place called Wow-Wow, where the King, Mohammed, was friendly to them. There lived there a certain widow named Lyuma, or 'Honey,' very rich, and, according to Wow-Wow taste very handsome, though her portly figure, her hair dyed blue, and hands stained red and yellow, and the crimson teeth which gave the finis.h.i.+ng touch, might not have been admired in England.

This great lady soon made friendly overtures to the two Englishmen, calling every day at the hut they occupied, arrayed in gorgeous garments of striped silk, and glistening with beads and ornaments. Great was the amus.e.m.e.nt of the jovial Captain when he discovered that the African beauty was greatly taken with Lauder, and most unmercifully did he chaff them both as he sat, puffing at his pipe, at the hut door, much to the confusion of the shy young Cornishman and the delight of the lady, Lyuma, who took all his remarks seriously. Poor Lauder at last got so alarmed that he called upon her, and solemnly informed her that he could not make up his mind to an African wife.

The beautiful Lyuma, however, was not at all disconcerted, but at once turned her attentions from Richard to his master, whom she tried to dazzle by the magnificence of her jewels and the number of her slaves.

The Captain, fairly punished for his teasing, decided to pay a short visit to the neighbouring King of Boussa, whom he wished to conciliate, and left Lauder at Wow-Wow in charge of his luggage. But no sooner did Lyuma hear of his departure than she set off in pursuit, splendidly arrayed in red, with scarlet morocco leather boots, and attended by a body of slaves, who cheered the way by discordant music. She looked in before starting to bid good-bye to Lauder, who may well have laughed at this turning of the tables upon his master.

But the affair soon took a more serious turn, for King Mohammed, summoning Lauder to his presence, sternly informed him that his master and the lady Lyuma were plotting rebellion, and that he himself and the Captain's luggage would be detained at the King's pleasure. Richard found remonstrances and explanations of no avail; and, feeling that Clapperton must be warned of the King's suspicions, he managed to escape from his guards and hastened with all speed to Boussa. Here he was met by the news that the Captain had already started on his return journey by another route, still followed by the admiring Lyuma. The King and Queen of Boussa received Lauder with the greatest kindness; indeed, the Queen was so much touched by his pleasant manners and weak look (for he had but just recovered from fever), that she asked anxiously whether his mother were living, and sighed when he answered 'No,' because he had no one to watch and wait for him in far-away England. And when the weary young Englishman, in spite of desperate efforts to be polite, dropped asleep in the royal presence, the sovereigns, with courtesy which would have done honour to a more civilised Court, quietly withdrew, sending him a message that he must stay long with them and rest well.

But Lauder was anxious to rejoin his master, and, hurrying back to Wow-Wow, reached it just as Clapperton, who had outdistanced his fair pursuer, arrived there himself. The gallant Captain, hearing of his loss of favour, took the bull by the horns and went at once to the King. He quite disarmed that angry monarch by his frank greeting and a.s.surances that he had not seen such a handsome face since his departure as that of the sovereign of Wow-Wow; but Mohammed, to make all sure, refused to allow the Captain to proceed on his travels until Lyuma was safely under supervision. So that the lady, when she arrived, found herself obliged to submit to the royal authority and stay quietly at home, while the Captain and Lauder, by no means sorry to escape, bade farewell to Mohammed, and left the poor beauty to find a husband among the gentlemen of Wow-Wow.

We might end the story there, with a laugh over poor Lyuma's disappointment, for the rest of the tale that Lauder has to tell is sad.

For weeks the two explorers were delayed by tribal wars, and the long inaction in the deadly climate broke down even Clapperton's hopeful spirit. When they sat together in the evenings at the door of their hut, and Lauder sang the old Scottish songs that had been familiar to his master as a child, the foreboding seems to have fallen upon the Captain that he would never tread his native hills again. He fell ill of the sickness that had claimed so many victims, and gave his papers and instructions, with business-like calmness, to his 'dear boy,' as he called the young servant, who tended him with the devotion of a son. The man who had before bidden Lauder never to forget his prayers knew where to turn for help when his own splendid strength and energy could avail him no more. But sorely desolate Richard Lauder must have felt, when he laid the British flag over the body of him who had been master and comrade in one, and, with broken voice, read the Burial Service, with its words of faith and hope, over the lonely grave.

He himself returned safely to England, and has left us the portrait of the man he served, the portrait of a brave, kindly Christian gentleman, one of the most gallant of the army of pioneers who have heard the 'everlasting whisper' which calls men into unknown lands.

A HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

True Tales of the Year 1806.

VII.--CHARLES JAMES FOX.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

On the 10th of September, 1806, died Charles James Fox, a man of such talents that perhaps his age did not produce his equal. He was born in 1749, and was the second son of Lord Holland, who spoilt his child by letting him have his own way in everything. At nine years of age, Charles was in the habit of reading his father's dispatches, Lord Holland being then a Secretary of State; and one day Charles crumpled up the dispatch, saying calmly, 'Too feeble!' and threw the paper into the fire. Lord Holland, far from rebuking him, merely re-wrote the dispatch.

Perhaps no child ever received so bad an education from his father as did Charles James Fox. The result was that Charles grew up into a most confirmed gamester, losing immense sums at cards and on the turf.

He was always extreme in all he undertook. As a young man at college, he walked fifty-six miles in one day for a wager, and, when in Ireland, swam twice round the Devil's Punch-bowl, at Killarney. In dress, too, he was always noticeable--at first as a great dandy and a member of the famous 'Maccaroni' clique, who wore red-heeled shoes, carried m.u.f.fs, and seemed only to live to make themselves talked about; and later on--in the days when he sympathised with the Republican movement in France--Fox affected great simplicity in dress, and at last became such a sloven that he did not even wear clean s.h.i.+rts.

But these were but the foibles of genius, for, notwithstanding all his fast life and many vices, Fox was hardly surpa.s.sed as a scholar, an orator, and a linguist; and, as a politician, Pitt himself--a life-long rival--frankly admitted that 'Fox was a magician, who laid a spell upon his hearers as long as the words issued from his lips.'

Once, in 1793, Burke was pa.s.sionately addressing the House of Commons on the necessity of placing foreigners, who were then flocking into our country from France, under strict police supervision. It was the time of the French Revolution, and Fox, though regretting the crimes then committed, was yet in favour of the Republican Government for that country, as offering greater freedom, and was very firm against declaring war with France.

Burke, however, went on to declare that these foreigners would soon infect Great Britain with their revolutionary ideas, and (hoping to produce a startling effect) he finally drew a dagger from his bosom, and flung it on the floor of the House, saying: 'That is what you are to expect from an alliance with France!'

For a moment the House was startled, but Fox, with a readiness that never failed him, turned towards his opponent with a mocking smile, and, pointing to the dagger, said jestingly: 'The Honourable Member has given us the knife; will he kindly favour us with the fork?'

The House burst into peals of laughter, and the incident, which Burke meant to be so solemn, ended in making him a laughing-stock.

Perhaps the last years of Fox were his best years; he settled down and married, living very happily with his wife, and taking great delight in gardening.

On the death of Pitt, Fox was chosen a member of the 'Ministry of all the Talents,' but he did not survive his great rival by many months. He was a dying man when he made his last supreme effort to address the House on the suppression of the Slave Trade.

'If,' said the dying statesman, 'if this Bill becomes law, and I had done that, and that only, I could retire from public life with comfort, feeling I had done my duty.' He was never again able to leave his room, but his friends did not realise that his end was so near.

One n.o.bleman called on him, and said he was making up a party for Christmas, and hoped he might have the honour of including Fox amongst his guests. 'It will be a new scene, sir, and I think you will approve,'

he said, persuasively.

'I shall indeed be in a new scene by Christmas,' said Fox, quietly, and then he went on, 'My lord, what do you think of the immortality of the soul?'

The n.o.bleman hardly knew what answer to make, and Fox continued, calmly: 'I shall know by next Christmas.'

A few days later he was dead, and, after a most imposing funeral, his body was laid to rest in Westminster Abbey, but eighteen inches from the spot where, but a few months before, had been laid the body of his great rival, Pitt.

THE ARBALIST, OR CROSSBOW.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Amongst the weapons used in early English times, there was hardly one so deadly and effectual as the crossbow. It is not familiar to us now, being different from the ordinary bow and arrow, which we still see sometimes. It gets its name because it has the appearance of a cross, and is a very interesting old weapon, for with its trigger and spring it led to the invention of the musket.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Loading a Military Crossbow.]

The Normans used the crossbow, and had also a sort of machine, not unlike it, that threw out showers of arrows, or even stones.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Crossbow and Arrows used for Sport.]

Another name for the crossbow was 'arbalist,' and its arrows were called quarils, or bolts. These were made of various sorts of wood; about a dozen trees were used for the purpose, but ash-wood was thought to be the best. Generally the arrows had a tip of iron, shaped like a pyramid, pointed, though for shooting at birds the top was sometimes blunt, so that a bird might be struck down without being badly wounded. One old writer says that a great difference between the long-bow and the crossbow was, that success did not depend upon who pulled the lock--a child might do this as well as a man--but with the long-bow strength was everything. In fact, during the Tudor times, the kings specially encouraged the archers to practise shooting with the long-bow, and people were even forbidden to keep crossbows. The crossbow, however, when it had reached perfection, carried much further than the ordinary long-bow.

The crossbow is said to have been invented in Italy, but it seems that the Saxons had this bow, though it was not used much until long after, when the Normans came over. According to an old tradition, it was by a bolt from a crossbow that King Harold received a fatal wound at the Battle of Hastings, For some reason or other crossbows were condemned by a Council in 1139, and Christians were forbidden to use them, but during the wars with the Saracens they were again made serviceable, by command of King Richard I. Strange to say, Richard himself was killed, we are told, by a bolt shot from the ramparts of the Castle of Chaluz, which he was besieging.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A Contest with the Longbow.]

The pay of a crossbowman in the reign of Edward II. was sixpence a day, probably equal to three or four s.h.i.+llings of our money. There are old houses in England where crossbows are still to be seen; one among them is said to have been Robin Hood's. During England's wars with France the bow was an important weapon. At the famous Battle of Cressy the English had about three thousand archers, mostly armed with long-bows; the French had arbalists, or crossbows, and, on the whole, they were less successful, as, again, at Agincourt. During the reign of Elizabeth, however, the crossbow was once more popular, owing to an improved kind being invented in Holland. It then became the chief weapon of the Artillery Company of London, which still exists.

THE DISOBEDIENT MOUSE.