But my chairman began to speak, and I listened with strained attention, for, indeed, I had a difficulty in gathering the purport of what he said. Presently it dawned upon me, though, that he was telling them how interested he was in the lecture that was to come, because it was on the subject of the catching of whales, and whale-oil was of so much importance in his business of spinning. So far all was well, but now he began to tell that audience, nearly all of whom were employed in his mills, what whale-oil was used for, and how it was used. In fact, he delivered a lecture on the subject, which did not conclude until 8.25; and even then he only reluctantly made way for me. No doubt he knew his subject thoroughly, and as time did not matter, I felt much entertained.
It was quite a pleasant experience, take it all round, but I had another surprise the next morning. Coming down at eight, and entering the morning-room, I saw there in conversation with my host a man whom I should certainly have taken for the lowest kind of tramp, had I met him on the road. Eccentricities in dress, I hope, make no difference to me, poor clothes have been my own wear for many years, for while at sea I often patched my raiment, until, as Jack said, “you couldn’t tell which was the standing part,” and still I say that this man’s bodily coverings were an offence to me. He hurt the eyes, he looked so dirty, so unkempt, so regardless of all the decencies, cleanliness among them. And he had on a pair of awful old boots, shapeless trotter cases, which were unlaced, and into which the ends of his ragged trousers were half-tucked, as if he had shuffled into them on tumbling out of his lair, and had never thought of them since.
Seeing me come in, my host gave me a cheery good morning, and waving a hand towards the nondescript, said:
“My brother Ben. He’s my manager down at th’ mills.”
Brother Ben muttered something I could not understand, finished his colloquy with his brother, and went away, not being asked to stay to breakfast. I have since heard that the two brothers possessed very little short of a quarter of a million of money, and I have often wondered what they did with it, or what good it was to them, or anybody else. I saw no young people about the house, so I assume that there were no children. But I don’t know. A lady who was my hostess in a village near Bradford showed me a house and mill, and told me that the owner had been a mill-hand, was now worth (as we say) nearly half a million, and had three sons and two daughters, all of whom he made work in the mill for wages. They wore the usual mill-hand’s dress, with clogs, and lived in the basement of the fine house, as they had always been accustomed to do, never spending or giving a penny towards the gracious, gentle things of life. My host was much better than that, but I don’t think he had any children.
Perhaps the most extraordinary experience I have ever had with a chairman was at Christmastide a few years ago. I am very anxious to give no clue to either the name of the gentleman nor the place, for I would be deeply grieved to give him a moment’s pain, recognising as I do how whole-souled and heartily he gave himself and his means for what he considered the highest interests of his fellow men and women. So I will only say that in that period of rest which lecturers usually enjoy between the middle of December and the middle of January, I received a letter, asking me what my fee would be to deliver a lecture at a place about 450 miles distant, on a night shortly after Christmas, beginning about 10 p.m. I had worked very hard that season, and did not want to go at all, but, of course, I could not send a blunt refusal. But I said that I was tired, it was my only period for rest, and that if I came I should want twenty guineas for my lecture, and first-class return fare. And I dismissed the matter from my mind with the posting of my reply, for I never dreamed that such terms would be considered for a moment.
My surprise, then, may be faintly imagined when I received a telegram the next day, “Please come on date, specified terms agreed.” There was now nothing to do but go, and go I did. On arrival at the place it was evident at once that I was only one item in a long programme, and my chairman was, at tremendous expense to his mental and physical tissue, keeping the whole thing going. It was 10.45 p.m. before my turn began, and it lasted exactly half an hour. For the mixed audience was almost worn out, and many of them were over-fed as well. I afterwards heard that the efforts to amuse them had been carried on continuously from 8 p.m., the only stipulation being that none of them should leave before midnight. I make no comment whatever on the wisdom or otherwise of this stupendous altruistic effort; I can only hint at it, as I am doing; but think of it for a moment, four hours of miscellaneous entertainment, varied by eating and drinking tea, coffee and mineral waters! I have seldom seen a man more weary than the host was—poor fellow, he had lavished himself for what he felt was a good cause, and as for the money—that was a mere detail, for he was a millionaire. It is only now that I remember that I have not once alluded to his efforts as a chairman. Well, he was as near my ideal as can be, but such was the condition of the audience that, in spite of his lucid little introduction, I am firmly convinced that the great majority of them had not the least idea what to expect of me, did not in the least know whether I was a conjurer or a vocalist or a politician. And, as somebody said, it didn’t matter, anyhow, his great end was achieved if he kept the people off the streets on that particular night, and if his lavish expenditure in order to instruct as well as amuse them seemed wasteful—well, it hardly mattered.
I will close these chairman reminiscences on a high note, one of the pleasantest recollections of my life, as well as one of the greatest privileges I ever enjoyed. In the summer of 1899 I was privileged to act as special correspondent for a London newspaper on board H.M.S. Mars during the summer manœuvres, and I spent then the jolliest time of my life. Towards the close of the manœuvres, however, things got a bit tedious, and during some golden days we lay (the hostile fleet, that is) somewhere off the Biscayan coast on a sleeping sea, awaiting some orders or some development that never came. In order that the men should not feel any lack of interest, much was done to amuse them, or to help them amuse themselves in the way of athletic sports, etc., and one morning Captain May asked me whether I would oblige him by giving the crew a lecture.
Now I had never lectured before without my slides, and I need not say how difficult such a task appeared to me, but I had not got them with me, and I could not refuse a request so kindly made; so I at once agreed, and was very graciously thanked. I may say that I was assured that if I had brought my slides with me, the absence of the lantern would have been no hindrance, for one would have been invented and fixed up somehow. And I am perfectly sure from what I know of the naval man that this feat would have been performed. However, I did not tax their ingenuity so far, and with the customary promptitude the lecture was fixed to come off that same evening.
Coming on deck after dinner, I was surprised to see in the middle of the broad quarter-deck a high platform rigged and draped with bunting, backed by the Union Jack. Right across the front of it chairs were placed for the officers, and behind them, stretching far away to the rear, rows and rows of mess benches neatly arrayed. A brief command, a short bugle call, and with the muffled thunder of hundreds of bare feet, my audience assembled, took their seats, and lit their tobacco. Amidst perfect silence Captain May mounted the platform, and introduced me in a brief speech which filled me with the deepest glow of pride and humble gratitude I have ever felt. Of course, I cannot reproduce it, but every syllable is indelibly printed on my heart, the more because that good friend and brave man passed away not very long after.