Tracks Of A Rolling Stone by Henry J. Coke (top ten books of all time .TXT) 📕

Were:  'I Am Leaving England Never To See It Again.'  She Was

Seized With Cholera The Night She Reached Bombay,  And Died

The Following Day.

To Return To Her Father,  The Eminent Engineer.  He Was

Distinctly A Man Of Genius,  And What Is Called 'A Character.' 

He Was Always In The Clouds - Not In The Vapour Of His

Engine-Rooms,  Nor Busy Inventing Machines For Extracting

Sunbeams From Cucumbers,  But Musing On Metaphysical Problems

And Abstract Speculations About The Universe Generally.  In

Other Respects A Perfectly Simple-Minded Man.

It Was In His Palmy Days That He Invited Me To Run Down To

Sheerness With Him,  And Go Over The 'Great Eastern' Before

She Left With The Atlantic Cable.  This Was In 1865.  The

Largest Ship In The World,  And The First Atlantic Cable,  Were

Both Objects Of The Greatest Interest.  The Builder Did Not

Know The Captain - Anderson - Nor Did The Captain Know The

Builder.  But Clearly,  Each Would Be Glad To Meet The Other.

As The Leviathan Was To Leave In A Couple Of Days,  Everything

On Board Her Was In The Wildest Confusion.  Russell Could Not

Find Anyone Who Could Find The Captain; So He Began Poking 

About With Me,  Till We Accidentally Stumbled On The

Commander.  He Merely Said That He Was Come To Take A Parting

Glance At His 'Child,' Which Did Not Seem Of Much Concern To

The Over-Busy Captain.  He Never Mentioned His Own Name,  But

Introduced Me As 'My Friend Captain Cole.'  Now,  In Those

Days,  Captain Cole Was Well Known As A Distinguished Naval

Officer.  To Russell's Absent And Engineering Mind,  'Coke'

Had Suggested 'Cole,' And 'Captain' Was Inseparable From The

Latter.  It Was A Name To Conjure With.  Captain Anderson

Took Off His Cap,  Shook Me Warmly By The Hand,  Expressed His

Pleasure At Making My Acquaintance,  And Hoped I,  And My

Friend Mr. - Ahem - Would Come Into His Cabin And Have

Luncheon,  And Then Allow Him To Show Me Over His Ship.  Scott

Russell Was Far Too Deeply Absorbed In His Surroundings To

Note Any Peculiarity In This Neglect Of Himself And Marked

Respect For 'Captain Cole.'  We Made The Round Of The Decks, 

Then Explored The Engine Room.  Here The Designer Found

Himself In An Earthly Paradise.  He Button-Holed The Engineer

And Inquired Into Every Crank,  And Piston,  And Valve,  And

Every Bolt,  As It Seemed To Me,  Till The Officer In Charge

Unconsciously Began To Ask Opinions Instead Of Offering

Explanations.  By Degrees The Captain Was Equally Astonished

At The Visitor's Knowledge,  And When At Last My Friend Asked

What Had Become Of Some Fixture Or Other Which He Missed, 

Captain Anderson Turned To Him And Exclaimed,  'Why,  You Seem

To Know More About The Ship Than I Do.'

'Well,  So I Ought,' Says My Friend,  Never For A Moment

Supposing That Anderson Was In Ignorance Of His Identity.

'Indeed!  Who Then Are You,  Pray?'

'Who?  Why,  Scott Russell Of Course,  The Builder!'

There Was A Hearty Laugh Over It All.  I Managed To Spare The

Captain's Feelings By Preserving My Incognito,  And So Ended A

Pleasant Day.

In November,  1862,  My Wife And I Received An Invitation To

Spend A Week At Compiegne With Their Majesties The Emperor

And Empress Of The French.  This Was Due To The Circumstance

That My Wife's Father,  Lord Wilton,  As Commodore Of The Royal 

Yacht Squadron,  Had Entertained The Emperor During His Visit

To Cowes.

We Found An Express Train With The Imperial Carriages

Awaiting The Arrival Of The English Guests At The Station Du

Nord.  The Only Other English Besides Ourselves Were Lord And

Lady Winchilsea With Lady Florence Paget,  And Lord And Lady

Castlerosse,  Now Lord And Lady Kenmare.  These,  However,  Had

Preceded Us,  So That With The Exception Of M. Drouyn De

Lhuys,  We Had The Saloon Carriage To Ourselves.

The Party Was A Very Large One,  Including The Walewskis,  The

Persignys,  The Metternichs - He,  The Austrian Ambassador -

Prince Henri Vii. Of Reuss,  Prussian Ambassador,  The Prince

De La Moskowa,  Son Of Marshal Ney,  And The Labedoyeres, 

Amongst The Historical Names.  Amongst Those Of Art And

Literature,  Of Whom There Were Many,  The Only One Whom I Made

The Acquaintance Of Was Octave Feuillet.  I Happened To Have

Brought His 'Comedies Et Proverbes' And Another Of His Books

With Me,  Never Expecting To Meet Him; This So Pleased Him

That We Became Allies.  I Was Surprised To Find That He Could

Not Even Read English,  Which I Begged Him To Learn For The

Sake Of Shakespeare Alone.

We Did Not See Their Majesties Till Dinner-Time.  When The

Guests Were Assembled,  The Women And The Men Were Arranged

Separately On Opposite Sides Of The Room.  The Emperor And

Empress Then Entered,  Each Respectively Welcoming Those Of

Their Own Sex,  Shaking Hands And Saying Some Conventional

Word In Passing.  Me,  He Asked Whether I Had Brought My Guns, 

And Hoped We Should Have A Good Week's Sport.  To Each One A

Word.  Every Night During The Week We Sat Down Over A Hundred

To Dinner.  The Army Was Largely Represented.  For The First

Time I Tasted Here The National Frog,  Which Is Neither Fish

Nor Flesh.  The Wine Was,  Of Course,  Supreme; But After Every

Dish A Different Wine Was Handed Round.  The Evening

Entertainments Were Varied.  There Was The Theatre In The

Palace,  And Some Of The Best Of The Paris Artistes Were

Requisitioned For The Occasion.  With Them Came Dejazet,  Then

Nearly Seventy,  Who Had Played Before Buonaparte.

Almost Every Night There Was Dancing.  Sometimes The Emperor

Would Walk Through A Quadrille,  But As A Rule He Would Retire

With One Of His Ministers,  Though Only To A Smaller Boudoir

At The End Of The Suite,  Where A Couple Of Whist-Tables Were

Ready For The More Sedate Of The Party.  Here One Evening I

Found Prince Metternich Showing His Majesty A Chess Problem, 

Of Which He Was The Proud Inventor.  The Emperor Asked

Whether I Was Fond Of Chess.  I Was Very Fond Of Chess,  Was

One Of The Regular Habitues Of St. George's Chess Club,  And

Had Made A Study Of The Game For Years.  The Prince

Challenged Me To Solve His Problem In Four Moves.  It Was Not

A Very Profound One.  I Had The Hardihood To Discover That

Three,  Rather Obvious Moves,  Were Sufficient.  But As I Was 

Not Gil Blas,  And The Prince Was Not The Archbishop Of

Grenada,  It Did Not Much Matter.  Like The Famous Prelate, 

His Excellency Proffered His Felicitations,  And Doubtless

Also Wished Me 'Un Peu Plus De Gout' With The Addition Of 'Un

Peu Moins De Perspicacite.'

One Of The Evening Performances Was An Exhibition Of Poses-

Plastiques,  The Subjects Being Chosen From Celebrated

Pictures In The Louvre.  Theatrical Costumiers,  Under The

Command Of A Noted Painter,  Were Brought From Paris.  The

Ladies Of The Court Were Carefully Rehearsed,  And The Whole

Thing Was Very Perfectly And Very Beautifully Done.  All The

English Ladies Were Assigned Parts.  But,  As Nearly All These

Depended Less Upon The Beauties Of Drapery Than Upon Those Of

Nature,  The English Ladies Were More Than A Little Staggered

By The Demands Of The Painter And Of The - Undressers.  To

The Young And Handsome Lady Castlerosse,  Then Just Married, 

Was Allotted The Figure Of Diana.  But When Informed That,  In

Accordance With The Original,  The Drapery Of One Leg Would

Have To Be Looped Up Above The Knee,  Her Ladyship Used Very

Firm Language; And,  Though Of Course Perfectly Ladylike, 

Would,  Rendered Into Masculine Terms,  Have Signified That She

Would 'See The Painter D-D First.'  The Celebrated 'Cruche

Cassee' Of Greuze,  Was Represented By The Reigning Beauty, 

The Marquise De Gallifet,  With Complete Fidelity And Success.

There Was One Stage Of The Performance Which Neither I Nor

Lord Castlerosse,  Both Of Us Newly Married,  At All

Appreciated.  This Was The Privileges Of The Green-Room,  Or

Rather Of The Dressing-Rooms.  The Exhibition Was Given In

The Ball-Room.  On One Side Of This,  Until The Night Of The

Performances,  An Enclosure Was Boarded Off.  Within It,  Were

Compartments In Which The Ladies Dressed And - Undressed.  At

This Operation,  As We Young Husbands Discovered,  Certain

Young Gentlemen Of The Court Were Permitted To Assist - I

Think I Am Not Mistaken In Saying That His Majesty Was Of The

Number.  What Kind Of Assistance Was Offered Or Accepted, 

Castlerosse And I,  Being On The Wrong Side Of The Boarding, 

Were Not In A Position To Know.

There Was A Door In The Boarding,  Over Which One Expected To

See,  'No Admittance Except On Business,' Or Perhaps,  'On

Pleasure.'  At This Door I Rapped,  And Rapped Again

Impatiently.  It Was Opened,  Only As Wide As Her Face,  By The

Empress.

'What Do You Want,  Sir?' Was The Angry Demand.

'To See My Wife,  Madame,' Was The Submissive Reply.

'You Can't See Her; She Is Rehearsing.'

'But,  Madame,  Other Gentlemen - '

'Ah!  Mais,  C'est Un Enfantillage!  Allez-Vous-En.'

And The Door