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menagerie, which he could imitate most perfectly; all this to the fear and wonder of those who witnessed the performance. In noticing these freaks, we are to bear in mind that they illustrate only one side of his character. So of what is related of him at Cleveland and elsewhere: his refusing to sleep until he had seen some funny object; his dashing over a precipice for excitement, with the thousand and one other odd things that he did. He had, too, a sensible and a manly side, and to relate all the good and all the kind things he did would make as large a book as that recounting his freaks and follies. He did nothing out of envy or malice, and was all the while making friends and not enemies. If his sarcasm is pointed or coarse, it is for the reason that it was directed against "mean or ridiculous things." He was, indeed, one of the kindest and most affectionate of men, generous to a fault, and holding to the last the regard and friendship of all who knew him.
While a great observer of men, and one of the keenest readers of character, Brown took comparatively little notice of places and other objects of interest. A lady who knew him well said that had a beggar in rags been seated by the most beautiful statue, he would have seen the beggar first. This neglect of places several times brought him to grief. Once, when going from Waterford to Boston, he went on board a steamer at Portland, late in the evening, and at once retired to his state-room. A storm was threatening and the boat did not leave. He arose early in the morning and, going out upon the landing, called a hackman and asked to be conveyed to the Revere House. And not until he had broken the second commandment, and had threatened to break the fifth, could he be persuaded that he was yet in Portland.
Though in later years he greatly improved in bearing and manners, appearances were now against him. There was about him a country awkwardness, and bashfulness, and slovenliness of habit which he was long in putting away. It is said of him that he was as gawky and slouchy" as a young man well could be. "I think," said Mr. Armstrong, at whose office he presented himself at Tiffin, Ohio, shabby, dusty, and forlorn," he was the gawkiest, greenest looking young fellow I ever set eyes on." His clothes failed to fit him, his yellow straight hair was altogether unmanageable, and he walked with a loose, swaggering gait which threatened to unjoint his limbs. Though
better equipped in mind, and able to hold an acquaintance with the spell of the Ancient Mariner, he was easily disconcerted in the presence of strangers. Even after he became known as a writer, his bashfulness sometimes got the better of him and caused, as another playfully remarked, "a hiatus in the show."
It is something to know that Brown overcame for the most part, if not altogether, these early defects. It is to be remembered that he was self-educated, and it is to be remembered, too, that while he was, comparatively speaking, a young man at the time of his death, there were few of his countrymen possessed of more general information. He did not attend school after he was fourteen years old, and while at school had but the meager instruction afforded in our country districts. It is said that he studied little while at school, giving his time mostly to writing and drawing comic pictures; but having a wonderfully retentive memory, he succeeded in getting all of his lessons, excepting arithmetic, which he hated and of which he could not comprehend the simplest rules, never getting further on in the book than fractions. It was by reading and observation that he schooled himself, and though making no claim to accurate scholarship, he had the knowledge which serves the best purposes, that which he could use for his own good and for the benefit of others.
Writing comic sketches is not the easiest thing in literature, and the effusions of the humorist are far from spontaneous. Brown wrote much before he wrote well, and gaining this he was but at the beginning of his career. "Artemus Ward" was a lucky hit, but it required the most persistent efforts to make him both popular and profitable. His first attempts at lecturing were not, as it is generally supposed, a success. He wandered about some two years, among obscure villages, speaking to thin houses and barely making expenses. He was not a little sensitive as to his success as a lecturer, but such was his determination that he concealed his feelings and even turned his failures to account. When his "goaks" failed to "amoose " the audience, or seemed not to be understood or appreciated, he would repeat them and keep on explaining them until the desired effect was produced. The house having responded, he would remark in a delighted manner: "Ah! I thought that would fetch you." Nor was his newspaper work a pecuniary success. He was
already twenty-two years old when at Tiffin, where he had only four dollars a week. When at work on the Toledo " Commercial" he had low wages, though he made the paper famous with his brilliant paragraphs. He engaged upon the " Plain-Dealer" at twelve dollars a week, which was afterward raised to fifteen-but no more, though many of the best things he ever wrote appeared in that paper. 66 Vanity Fair," of which his writings were the principal attraction, was not a financial success. But genius and hard work, together, at last conquered.
Brown was not in favor of doing anything by halves. He learned his trade most thoroughly, and was one of the fastest compositors of his time. Such, too, was his regard for the printing-office as a means of education that he stipulated that his page, George Stephens, should work at the printer's trade two years before attending school, in order that "he might ascertain how little he really knew, and how important it was to learn."
There has been not a little speculation as to how Brown came by his nom de plume, "Artemus Ward." Doctor Shattuck says, that having some confidential business with him during one of his last visits to Waterford, he took the occasion to inquire in particular about it. Brown said it was in this wise: While engaged at the "Plain-Dealer" office, in Cleveland, Ohio, he made the acquaintance of an eccentric old gentleman whose actual name was Artemus Ward, though assuming some more pretentious titles. This man was in the show business, having a few "wax figgers," birds, "snaix" and a kangaroo. While waiting on the printers for his bills, he amused Brown by telling an endless number of anecdotes, all of which were duly treasured up. Among these were some of the incidents in Brown's article entitled "Edwin Forrest as Othello." He referred to the following as one of the contributions of the original Artemus Ward:
"Ed was actin' at Niblo's Garding, but let that pars. I sot down in the pit, took out my spectacles, and commenced peroosin' the evenin's bill. As I was peroosin' the bill, a grave young man who sot near me axed me if I'd ever seen Forrest dance the Essence of Old Virginny.
"He's immense in that,' sed the young man. 'He also does a fair champion jig,' the young man continnered, but his Big Thing is the Essence of Old Virginny.'
"Fair youth, do you know what I'd do with you if you was my sun? 66 6 No,' sez he.
"Wall,' sez I, 'I'd appint your funeral to-morrow arternoon, and the korps should be ready! You're too smart to live on this yearth.'
The old man claimed himself to be the hero of this story. Brown, however, wanted the credit of correcting the spelling and of dressing the stories up in good literary style. Pleased with the name, he attached it to several of his comic productions, and, finding that it took with the public, adopted "A. Ward" as his own.
A most congenial acquaintance of Brown's was Doctor Shattuck, of Waterford, who had himself been in the lecture field a number of years, and could exchange many reminiscences of persons and places. They had something in common, too, in literary taste, and regularly, upon his summer return to Waterford, Charles borrowed the doctor's copy of "Pickwick," and shook with laughter all the while he was reading.
As he became better known, his visits at Waterford became occasions of social interest, and in these all the people of the place had part. He extended his hand to every child, and knew all he met as neighbors and friends. Only one door was he known to pass. Some rich relatives of his mother, who refused to know him when he was a poor journeyman printer and most needed their friendship, were now fain to offer him the hospitalities of their house, but he never called to accept them. He came to Waterford as his old home,-not that the place had special attractions for him in the way of scenery, as it has for others. He once said of it: "It's a pretty place, and you can keep on calling it a pretty place, and that is all you can say about it." One of the heaviest misfortunes mentioned in his works as befalling any one was the inheritance of a farm in Oxford County, Maine. But it was his home, and, when dying in England, he made request that his body be brought to Waterford for burial.
We have seen numbers of photographs of Brown, but, on account of his light complexion and the peculiar angles of his face, none seem to show him quite as he was known to those who beheld him in life. A sketch in the "London Illustrated Times," showing him as he appeared when lecturing on "The Mormons," at the Egyptian Hall, is most nearly like him. In person he was tall, very thin, agile, with face of Norman type, a high aquiline nose, with sharp bent, and with quick, discerning eyes. He had the delicate, fair hand of woman—the most beautiful hand they ever saw, his friends
say. He was slow and halting in speech, with soft, sweet voice, the tone often of gentle pleading and persuasion. When not directly engaged, he was inclined to abstraction. With all his play of wit, there was a tinge of melancholy, a suppressed expression of suffering or sorrow. A London critic says: "There was a weary look about the lines of the face which has been the attribute of every humorist concerning whose appearance we have any information." His manner of composing and writing, as described by Mr. George Hoyt and others of his associates in the "Plain-Dealer" office, was as peculiar as anything else about the man. He searched everywhere for funny things, and when he found them, or originated them, he seemed himself to enjoy them more than any one else. He had for his desk a rickety old table, and being an inveterate whittler, it was notched and gashed until it looked as though the lightning had gone through it. His chair was a fit companion thereto," a wabbling, unsteady affair, sometimes with four and sometimes with three legs." When writing, one leg hung over the arm of the chair like a great hook, and when a funny idea came to him he would laugh "with a guffaw which seemed to shake him from his heels upward." Sometimes he would "pound the table with his fists, slap the long, thin leg that hung over the arm of the chair, and explode with laughter." Upon these occasions he would also call his associates, and read to them what he had written. He laughed nearly all the time he was writing.
Mr. Brown lectured for the last time,
Wednesday evening, January 23d, 1867. He died in Southampton, England, Wednesday, March 6th, following, aged thirtythree years. His body found resting-place, first in Kensal Green, but later in the little Elm Vale cemetery at South Waterford, by the side of his father and brother.
Among the mysteries of his life, and they are many, none was greater than that involving the total disappearance of his property at the time of his death. Mr. Maxfield, his administrator, who knew much of his affairs says, that while he did not have as much money as was generally supposed, yet, being in his room in Waterford, one day, just before his departure for England and while he was arranging his business affairs, "so that," as Charles said, "if anything should happen, mother will be all right," he saw a pile of notes on the table amounting to about twelve thousand dollars, which he thought was all the money Charles had. He had a valuable gold watch and chain. The chain was of solid gold, a present from the California miners, very heavy, though plainly wrought, and worth alone several hundred dollars. He had also a diamond pin of considerable value, and two diamond rings. Besides, his last season in London was very successful: for some six weeks, he netted three hundred dollars a night. He was also liberally paid for his contributions to "Punch." But of all this his mother never received a cent, and not so much as a single relic. Previous to his death he had cleared the old homestead of debt, and had willed to his mother a small property at Yonkers, N. Y. What became of the rest?
[Near the little village of San Terenzo is the house in which Shelley was living before his last cruise in the Don Juan.]
MID-APRIL seemed like some November day,
Our boat, like shadowy barques that bear the dead,
Before us, a bright village, yellow and red,
Cast their long nets, and drew, and cast again;
By waving wings, and lo, a great sea-bird
[ON the 23d of December, 1787, the ship Bounty, manned by forty-two sailors and officers and commanded by Lieutenant Bligh, set sail for the South Seas, under orders from the British Admiralty to collect a number of bread-fruit plants, and with them to stock certain of the British West India Islands. The ship was provided with all necessary accommodations for the safe storage of the young trees, and with skillful gardeners, who should ascertain the necessary conditions for their growth and propagation.
The course laid down for the vessel was "around Cape Horn by the way of the Society Islands, Java and Prince Islands, collecting the bread-fruit plants, which were then to be taken to St. Vincent and Jamaica," after which the vessel was to return to England and report. The ship was stored and victualed for an eighteen months' cruise.
The voyage was more than two-thirds over when the. memorable mutiny took place. Fletcher Christian, master's mate, infuriated by some insulting words from Captain Bligh, suddenly, and to all appear ance without any previous understanding among the crew, incited a mutiny. Early on the morning of April 28th, 1789, the mutineers surprised Captain Bligh in his sleep, bound him, and carried him on deck. In a few moments he, with eighteen of his officers and men who had remained loyal to their commanding officer and their duty, was cast adrift in an open boat, with only provisions for five days' rations. Captain Bligh, though somewhat hasty in temper and violent in speech when irritated, was a brave and honorable man. By his admirable prudence, courage, and firmness, the small stock of provisions was so husbanded and the course of the boat so wisely directed that, at the end of forty-three days, after experiencing a violent gale and enduring almost the pangs of starvation, he came to anchor off the coast of Timor without the loss of a single man, having traversed a distance of three thousand six hundred and eighteen miles. The scanty store of pro
visions was eked out by such fish and birds as they were able to capture and such berries as they could gather on the desolate, rocky islets at which they touched.
In the meantime, the mutineers steered for the island of Toobonai, one of the northernmost of the Society Islands. After many quarrels and dissensions, and journeyings backward and forward between Otaheite and Toobonai, sixteen of the men decided to remain at Otaheite, while Christian and the others, with seven Otaheitean men and twelve women, set sail in the hopes of finding some uninhabited island, out of the line of travel, where they should settle down. He took a south-easterly course, and finally landed at Pitcairn Island, and burned the ship.
For two years matters went on smoothly, but finally the Otaheiteans rose up against these cruel task-masters, and killed three of them, Christian being among the number. The white men who were left, Quintal, McCoy, Young, and Adams, in their turn, by the aid of the women, killed all the black men, and again for a while all was quiet. McCoy, after experimenting till he succeeded in making some sort of substitute for his beloved Scotch whisky, died a victim to it. Quintal, after losing his native wife, insisted upon helping himself to the wives of his neighbors, but not succeeding in this, tried to murder Adams and Young. He failed in his purpose, but supplied to this lawless community what justification they required for taking his life, which they did by cutting him down with a hatchet.
Nothing was heard of the Pitcairn Islanders for eighteen years. In 1808, an American vessel touched at the island, and its commander, Captain Folger, discovered to his surprise that it was inhabited by the descendants of the mutineers, a number of young people, speaking both English and Otaheitean with fluency; living simple, harmless lives, and free from the vices of the ordinary South Sea Islander. Again the curious community dropped out of public notice till, in 1814, two British frigates cruising the Pacific reached Pitcairn Island. The inhabitants they found to be a peaceful,
law-abiding, religious people, ruled over in patriarchal fashion by John Adams. The quondam mutineer had trained the people under him in ways of frugality and industry. He performed for them the offices of burial, baptism, and marriage. He also held regular religious services, reading the Church of England prayers.
In 1830, the little community, numbering seventy-nine persons, began to feel that it was outgrowing the capacity of the island, which possessed only about four square miles of area. Later the people emigrated in a body to Norfolk Island, sixty degrees west of Pitcairn.
The following narrative is written by Rosalind Young, one of the descendants of the mutineer of that name, and a native of Pitcairn Island. She is a young woman of twenty-four years of age, has never worn a shoe in her life, swims like a fish,-four miles at a stretch,—and is an excellent performer on the organ. The simple, direct English which she writes will tell the rest, some of the homely character of her style being retained as of interest to the reader. ED. S. M.]
AFTER the removal of the former inhabitants of this island to Norfolk Island, which was successfully accomplished June 8, 1856, some of the people were strongly possessed with a desire to return to Pitcairn Island, which had for them greater attractions, although isolated, than the superior advantages that Norfolk Island had; they therefore left the latter place on December 2, 1858,the love of the home of their childhood overcoming every other feeling.
The first party that returned was composed of sixteen persons, in two families. One consisted of William Mayhew Young and his wife Margaret, and their seven children, six of whom were by the woman's former husband, Matthew McCoy, who was accidentally shot while in the act of discharging the Bounty's gun, when firing a farewell salute to H. M. S. Virago, in January, 1853. He left nine children; the two eldest, being married, remained with their husbands on Norfolk Island, and the next daughter staid behind with them, also. The other family that returned consisted of Moses Young and his wife Albina, and their children, five in number. Of the younger persons who then returned, the eldest was only fifteen years of age. A schooner called the Mary Ann was chartered to bring them here, and leaving Norfolk Island they reached their destination
safely on January 17th, 1859, after a passage of forty-five days. A French vessel was here at the same time, and part of her crew landed on the island a short time after the returned families arrived and staid a few hours. The return party found the houses— which were all simply built of wood, and with thatched roofs in a habitable state. A few of them had been burnt down, for the purpose of obtaining nails, with which to build a boat. This boat was built by Captain Knowles and his men, whose vessel, the Wild Wave, was wrecked on Oeno Island. They made a safe passage to Pitcairn Island, and had built a small vessel to convey them to Tahiti, where they landed, and from thence proceeded to their homes, which they reached in safety. It may not be out of place to mention here that the wife of Captain Knowles had her health completely broken through anxiety concerning the fate of her husband. She waited and lived on in the hope of again seeing him. This hope was fulfilled, but she survived his return only for a short time. This we learned a long time afterward, from a friend of Captain Knowles.
Some few cattle had been left on the island when the inhabitants removed to Norfolk Island, and, their number having increased, they caused great annoyance to the recently returned families, especially as some of the cattle were wild and savage, and the people, with the exception of the two men and a lad of fourteen, were all timid women and children. It was therefore determined to destroy all the cattle, and this determination was eventually carried into effect, but, in the opinion of most of the inhabitants, very unwisely. Although the island is too small to allow many cattle to live on it, still a few might, with great advantage, have been spared. Everything was plentiful then: there was abundance of fish and fowls (the hunting of hens' eggs formed a delightful pastime), goats and sheep; and the island abounded in the fruits which it produces, viz.: bananas of several different kinds; oranges, cocoa-nuts, lemons, limes, and citrons; chirimoyas, guavas, a kind of apple of a beautiful deep-red color called mountain apple, and water-melons. Potatoes yielded well, and yams were very productive, these being the principal food eaten on the island; indeed, all the vegetation was in the most flourishing condition. The island was, at that time, very seldom visited by ships, although from 1860 to 1863 three of Her Majesty's ships, viz.: the