Chapter Twelve.
Bricks and Mortar.
The next novel from his pen was “The White Gauntlett,” an historical romance of the time of Charles the First. Many of the scenes are laid in Buckinghamshire.
During the same year, 1863, “The Ocean Waifs” was appearing in the Boys Journal, and the following year “The Boy Slaves” was written for the same magazine. After an interval of six years Captain Reid now satisfied his boy readers as to the fate of Karl and Caspar, the young “Plant Hunters,” in the sequel called “The Cliff Climbers.”
The Boys’ Journal, 1865, contained his next boys’ book, “Afloat in the Forest.”
This year the wonderful tale of “The Headless Horseman” made its first appearance. There was a large coloured lithograph to be seen at all the railway stations and bookstalls of a handsome black horse, with a rider, in Mexican striped blanket, booted and spurred—all complete, but wanting a head! By many, this work is considered Mayne Reid’s masterpiece. It is translated into Russian, and the circulation is stated to be the largest of any English author in Russia. Captain Mayne Reid is the most popular English novelist there.
In addition to his novels and books for boys, Mayne Reid is the author of numerous short stories and magazine sketches, most of which are published in collected form.
The author’s many eccentricities were the theme of his rural neighbours’ gossip. During his residence at Gerrards Cross, the gallant Captain attended church more for the purpose of studying the bonnets than anything else. His inattention to the service, as also his dandyism in dress, were alike commented upon. One morning the post brought him the following, sent anonymously by a young lady:
“A friend who is deeply interested in Captain Mayne Reid’s spiritual welfare forwards a prayer book, with the sincere wish that it may induce him to behave more reverently in church, and in reminding him that there is such a colour as lavender, hopes that the everlasting lemon kids may be varied!” This was accompanied by an infinitesimal prayer book, and a pair of lavender cotton gloves.
The vicar also presented him with a large church service; so the Captain’s spiritual welfare was well looked after just then.
One of the humbler members of the congregation, a labouring man, had also noticed the non use of a prayer book, and accosted the Captain one day, thus: “Ah, sir, I see you don’t require no book; you be a scholard.” The poor man evidently thinking that he knew it all by heart.
Between the years 1862 and 1865 Captain Mayne Reid built himself a house in the style of a Mexican hacienda, with flat roof. In front of the house he constructed an artificial pond—a circular basin lined with cement, a jet of water in the centre—probably to remind him of the alligator and the sisters Loupe, and Luz, to whom we are introduced in “The Rifle Rangers.” He also built some model cottages and a reading room.
He made his own bricks, employing a regular staff of brick makers, and was his own architect. During the time of the building he would be up at six o’clock every morning to look after the workmen, and woe betide any who were the least negligent in their duty. The Captain’s voice would be heard afar off, and one might fancy he was again storming Chapultepec, or that a troop of his wild Indians on the “war-path” had suddenly invaded the quiet village.
This unfortunate mania for bricks and mortar, combined with other circumstances, ended disastrously, and Mayne Reid had to give up his country home, returning to London towards the end of 1866, to begin the world over again. His spirit was still undaunted, and in spite of failing health he succeeded, after many struggles and disappointments, in re-establishing himself.
On Saturday, April 27th, 1867, there appeared in the streets of London the first number of a new penny evening journal, called The Little Times. It was an almost exact counterpart of The Times in miniature. In the first column was:
“Births.—On the 27th inst., at 275 and a half, Strand, London, The Times, of a Little Times.
“Marriages.—On the 6th inst., at Brussels, Philip Coburg to Mary Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen. No cards.
“Deaths.—On the 12th inst., at Saint Stephen’s, Westminster, Mr Gladstone’s amendment to the Reform Bill, deeply lamented by Lord Derby.”
This paper was Captain Reid’s first enterprise after his bankruptcy. The Publisher’s advertisement was “The Little Times will be published daily as soon as possible after the receipt of the morning mails and telegrams.
“Its latest edition will contain all the news received up to the dispatch of the evening mails for the country.
“Subscribers in the provinces will thus receive the latest London and Foreign Intelligence before it can reach them by the morning papers.
“About the political leaning of The Little Times nothing need here be said. Its spirit and proclivities will soon be discovered.
“It is scarcely necessary to point out to men of business the advantage of using The Little Times as an advertising medium.
“No quack or immoral advertisements will be admitted into its columns—the Publisher reserving to himself the right to decide as to their character.
“The terms for advertising will be One penny per word, and Two pence per word for the title in Capitals. No advertisement charged less than Two Shillings.
“It is hoped that The Little Times will be found in the shop of every newsvendor, and on the stalls of every railway station. If not, a note of requisition addressed to the Publisher will ensure not only an answer but a prompt supply.”
It was a stupendous undertaking for him, as he not only edited and wrote the leaders, as well as the feuilletons of the paper, but did other literary work at the same time. We give the following “editorial” from his pen, under date of May 6, 1866:
“We are on the eve of an event that will startle, not only the people of this country, but Europe and the whole world.
“Our information comes from high and indubitable authority; though we do not consider ourselves at liberty, at the present moment, to give details. The vagueness of our statement does not imply its unsubstantiality. All we will now venture to affirm is: that neither the mass of the English population, nor public opinion on the Continent, is prepared for the occurrence; and without indicating the party in the State taking the initiative, or the precise intent and plan of the action contemplated, we simply refer to it as having all the characteristics of a coup d’état.
“The action this day taken by the Ministry, in the matter of the Hyde Park demonstration, may assist in the interpretation of the event to which we allude.”
“Our first word this day is for the working men of the metropolis; and we should give it to them in the shape of advice, but that we know it would reach them too late. If damage is to be done, it will be begun before we get upon the scene, and our presence there would have no influence in staying it. If windows are to be smashed the stones will commence flying before three o’clock, and when stones are in the air no quiet peacemaker will be tolerated.
“But you are not going about your business in the right way. On the contrary, all wrong. You have no right to assemble in the Park.
“We do not speak of the Park as being private property, or belonging to the Crown. We deny such a doctrine in toto. Neither that Park, nor any other to which the Crown claims ownership by fossil fictions of old statutory law. It belongs to the nation, but no part or portion of the nation has the right to use it for party purposes without the consent of the whole, and that consent should be obtained through the only authority that can legally grant it—the Legislative Government of the people. We know that this user is claimed by a thing which calls itself Government, in the shape of a Privy Council—not only claimed but enjoyed, without thought of illegality. We have militia trainings, fancy fairs, grand cavalcades of idleness and elegance, with roads cut to accommodate them. All this without asking either Parliament or people. But all this without asking is wrong—positively and legally wrong. If such privileges were asked, neither Parliament nor people would be slow to refuse them. Certainly not the Parliament, and as certainly not the English people, who have never been addicted to a dog-in-the-manger policy when the sport of their aristocracy required permission. The sting lies in your not being consulted, and now the greater sting in being yourselves refused a share of the same privilege. Is this not the true explanation of your present ill-humour? We would risk a wager that it is.
“For all that you have no right to assemble in the Park, as you declare yourselves determined upon doing.”
He was compelled to abandon The Little Times for want of funds, and also from his health breaking down under the strain of night and day work.
After resting a while, Mayne Reid wrote “The Finger of Fate,” the first part of which appeared in the Boy’s Own Magazine, December, 1867.
“The Finger of Fate” has since earned a fame its author never anticipated for it, his widow having to defend her rights (and that successfully) in the Chancery Division against an infringement of the copyright, and a leader in The Times was devoted to the subject. The book ends with a trial in favour of the plaintiff!
He had also a short tale, “The Fatal Cord,” running in a periodical, the Boys of England, and had engaged to write “The Planter Pirate” for the same paper.