A SAFE PASSAGE AND A HAPPY REUNION
Gertrude and May never knew what happiness was before. One maiden had her
lover, and the heart of the other was pledged to music. George too was
happy in Gertrude's happiness and joyous in his own thoughts that perhaps
he had already entered upon his life work, the development of plans which
would bless humanity. Colonel Harris's chief joy was that he had earned a
rest, was soon to see the absent members of his family, and to behold the
work of men in Europe.
People crowded the gangway, the same as on a previous occasion when duty
forced him suddenly to leave the "Majestic." It was almost two o'clock;
visitors were no longer admitted to the steamer, except messengers with
belated telegrams, mail, packages, and flowers for the travelers. On
the bridge of the "Campania" stood the uniformed captain and junior
officers. The chief officer was at the bow, the second officer aft. The
captain, notified that all was ready, gave the command, "Let go!" and the
cables were unfastened. The engineer started the baby-engine, which
partially opens the great throttle-valves, the twin-screws began to
revolve, and the "Campania," like an awakened leviathan slowly moved into
the Hudson River. Hundreds on both the pier and steamer fluttered their
handkerchiefs, and through a mist of tears good-byes were exchanged,
till the increasing distance separated the dearest of friends.
For twenty-four hours George Ingram was seen but little on deck. Most of
his time he spent with Carl Siemen, the engineer. The colonel took great
delight as the escort of two appreciative young ladies. Before the voyage
ended every available part of the "Campania" was explored.
Gertrude was surprised to find an engineer so cultivated a gentleman. He
was surrounded in his oak-furnished office by soft couches, easy chairs,
works of art, burnished indicators and dials. Mr. Siemen received his
orders from the captain or officer on the bridge by telegraph.
"It's mere child's play," said May, "and as easy as touching the keys of
a great organ."
Mr. Siemen now conducted his friends into the engine-room. "It is not
easy to imagine the tremendous force of the two swiftly turning screws or
propellers exerted against the surging waters of the Atlantic," he said.
"Our 30,000 horse power engines, a horse power is equal to six men, equal
180,000 strong men pulling at the oars, or twice the number of men that
fought at Gettysburg to perpetuate the American Union."
"Wonderful!" said Colonel Harris.
"Steam guided by command of the officer on the bridge, with slightest
effort, also steers our immense steamer."
"Mr. Siemen, tell us please how the steamer is lighted?" said George.
"We have fifty miles of insulated wire in the "Campania" for the electric
current generated by our two dynamos, which give us 1350 sixteen-candle
power lights, equal to a total of 22,000 candle power, absorbing 135
horse-power. We also use large electric reflectors and search lights to
pick up buoys on a dark night. All our machinery is in duplicate.
"At night when the broad clean decks of hardwood are illuminated with
electric lights and filled with gay promenaders, you easily imagine that
you are strolling along Broadway."
The accommodations and appointments of staterooms, of all the large
public rooms, and especially the dining-room, are perfect. A week on the
Atlantic, with the joyous bracing sea-air of the summer months, and
surrounded as you are by a cosmopolitan group of people, passes as
delightfully as a brief stay at the ocean side.
The passage of the "Campania" from Sandy Hook Light to Queenstown was
made in less than five and one-half days, 5 days, 10 hours, and 47
minutes, or at an average speed of 21.82 knots per hour, the highest
day's run being 548 knots. At Queenstown Colonel Harris received
telegrams and letters from his family saying that they would meet him at
Leamington, and that Alfonso would meet his father at Liverpool.
Reuben Harris wired his wife when his party expected to arrive. It was
ten o'clock in the morning when the S.S. "Campania" arrived in the Mersey
off Alexandra dock, and the company's tender promptly delivered the
passengers on the Liverpool Landing Stage.
Gertrude was first to single out Alfonso, whose handkerchief waved a
brother's welcome to the old world. Alfonso was the first to cross the
gangway to the tender, and rushed to his friends. The greeting was
mutually cordial. The father embraced his boy, for he loved him much and
still cherished a secret hope that his only son might yet turn his mind
to business. Alfonso seemed specially pleased that George and his sister
May had come, for he had frequently met May Ingram and her singing had
often charmed him.
May was about his own age. As Alfonso helped her down the gangway to the
deck, he thought he had never seen her look so pretty. She was about the
size of his sister Lucille; slender, erect, and in her movements she was
as graceful as the swaying willows. May's face was oval like that of
her English mother. She had an abundance of brown hair, her eyes were
brilliant, and her complexion, bronzed by the sea-breezes, had a pink
under-coloring that increased her beauty. If Alfonso's eyes were fixed on
her a moment longer than custom allows, perhaps he was excusable, for
portrait painting was his hobby, and he fancied that he knew a beautiful
face.
Alfonso was all attention to his friends in clearing the baggage through
the customs and getting checks for Leamington. After lunch, at the fine
railway hotel, the two o'clock express from Lime Street station was
taken, and Colonel Harris and party became loud in their praises of John
Bull's Island, as they sped on, via Coventry with her three tall spires,
to the fashionable Spa, where the Harris family were again to be
reunited. It was six o'clock when Alfonso alighted on the platform.
"Here they are, mother, I have brought them all; father, Gertrude,
George, and May."
The Leamington meeting was a happy one. The sorrow of separation is often
compensated by the joys of reunion. Mrs. Harris embraced her husband as
if he had returned a hero from the wars. In fact, he had emerged from a
conflict that brought neither peace nor honor to capital or labor.
Lucille too was enthusiastic. She, who was haughty, rarely responsive,
and often proud of her father's wealth, for the time assumed another
character and warmly welcomed her sister Gertrude and Gertrude's intended
husband as "brother George." Leo too was glad to make new acquaintances.
Eight joyous people attracted the attention of many at the station.
Fortunately, the next day was Sunday, which gave time for rest, for
review of the past few exciting weeks, and for the development of future
plans of travel. Much was told of the Harris trip through Ireland and of
the last week spent in the south of England.
Lucille described to Gertrude and May Stonehenge, hanging stones,--the
wonder of Salisbury Plain, where stand the ruins of the Druid
temple--three circles of upright moss-grown stones with flat slabs across
their tops, in which it is supposed the sun was worshiped with human
sacrifices. Many burial mounds are scattered about. A broad driveway, a
mile in extent, surrounds the temple, where possibly great processions
came to witness the gorgeous displays. In early Britain the Druid priests
held absolute sway over the destinies of souls. These priests were
finally overpowered by the Romans, and some of them burned upon their own
altars.
"But, Lucille, you wrote that you planned to visit Osborne House."
"Yes, dear, we did go to the Isle of Wight, and saw Osborne House, Queen
Victoria's home by the sea, as Balmoral is her summer home among the
mountains of Scotland. Her Majesty's palace is surrounded by terraced
gardens, nearly five thousand acres of forests, pastures, and fertile
meadows. Osborne House is furnished with much magnificence, mosaic
flooring, costly marbles, statuary, paintings, books, and art souvenirs.
"There the queen and Prince Albert painted, sang, and read together.
Those were happy days indeed for the young rulers of a kingdom. Each of
their children had a garden. The Prince of Wales worked in a carpenter's
shop, and the royal princesses learned housework in a kitchen and dairy
prepared for them." This was a revelation to Lucille, who had been reared
with little or nothing to do.
Lucille told Gertrude and May that she had just been reading the early
life of the queen, who said, "If one's home is happy, then trials and
vexations are comparatively nothing." The queen also said, "Children
should be brought up simply and learn to put the greatest confidence
in their parents." Lucille continued, "The queen often visited her
people, bringing toys for the children--a promise to a child she never
forgets--and gifts of warm clothing for the aged, to their great
delight."
At a conference of the Harris family, it was decided to go to London
after spending Monday in a carriage drive to Warwick and Kenilworth
castles and Stratford-on-Avon. So Monday promptly at eight o'clock
two carriages stood waiting at the hotel. Colonel Harris took Mrs.
Harris, May Ingram, and Alfonso with him, and George Ingram took
Gertrude, Lucille, and Leo in the second carriage.
There are few, if any, more magnificent drives in England than the one
through the beautiful Stratford district. It is recorded that two
Englishmen once laid a wager as to the finest walk in England.
One named the walk from Coventry to Stratford, the other from Stratford
to Coventry.
It was a delightful day and both the colonel and George entirely forgot
business in their enjoyment of the loveliest country they had ever seen.
A drive of two miles, from Leamington and along the banks of the historic
Avon, brought them to Warwick Castle which Scott calls "The fairest
monument of ancient and chivalrous splendor uninjured by the tooth of
time." It is said that Warwick Castle was never taken by any foe in days
gone by.
Our visitors drove over the draw-bridge through a gateway covered with
ivy, and still guarded as of old, by an ancient portcullis. In the hall
of the castle, pannelled with richly carved oak, are religiously guarded
the helmet of Cromwell, the armor of the Black Prince, and many historic
relics and art treasures. The drawing-room is finished in cedar. In
former days guests were summoned to the great banqueting hall by a blare
of trumpets. In the gardens is seen the celebrated white marble Warwick
vase from Adrian's villa. Interwoven vines form the handles, and leaves
and grapes adorn the margin of the vase. Superb views were had from the
castle towers. In the Beauchamp chapel in the old town of Warwick repose
the remains of Dudley, Earl of Leicester, one of Queen Elizabeth's
favorites. She gave Leicester beautiful Kenilworth Castle, which is five
miles distant.
As the carriages drove over the smooth road, beneath the venerable elms
and sycamores, artists along the way were sketching. Both Alfonso and Leo
tipped their hats, as members of a guild that recognizes art for art's
sake, a society that takes cognizance of neither nationality nor sect.
Gertrude and George had read Scott's novel in which he tells of the
ancient glories of Kenilworth, which dates back to the twelfth century,
and to-day is considered the most beautiful ruin in the world. Ivy mantles
the lofty ruined walls; the sun tinges in silver the gray old towers, and
sends a flood of golden light through the deep windows of the once
magnificent banqueting hall.
For years Kenilworth Castle was a royal residence, and later it was
the scene of bloody conflicts between kings and nobles. Today sheep
peacefully graze within the ruins and about the grounds. Visitors from
all parts of the world look in wonder upon the decay of glories that once
dazzled all Europe. Here the earl of Leicester entertained his virgin
queen hoping to marry her. As Elizabeth crossed the draw-bridge a song in
her praise was sung by a Lady of the Lake on an island floating in the
moat. Story writers have never tired of telling of the magnificence of
these entertainments that cost the ambitious earl $20,000 per day for
nineteen days.
Returning, Warwick Arms Hotel was reached for lunch, after which the
party drove eight miles to Stratford-on-Avon, a model town on the classic
Avon. Here in Henley Street, in a half-timbered house recently carefully
restored, Shakespeare was born. The walls and window panes are covered
with the names of visitors, while inside are kept albums for the
autographs of kings, queens, of Scott, Byron, Irving, and others. One
of the three rooms below is an ancient kitchen, where by the big open
chimney the poet often sat. Climbing a winding, wooden stairway,
George and Gertrude in the lead, our Harrisville friends entered the
old-fashioned chamber, where, it is said, on St. George's Day, April 19,
1564, William Shakespeare was born. A bust of the poet stands on the
table.
"We know little of his mother," said Gertrude, "except that she had a
beautiful name, Mary Arden. If it is true, as a rule, that all great men
have had great mothers, Mary Arden must have been a very superior woman."
"The reverse, Gertrude, must be equally true," said George, "that all
great women must have had great fathers."
Gertrude who had made a special study of Shakespeare and his works did
much of the talking. She said, "All that is definitely known of the life
of the great poet can be put on half a page. It is thought that William
was the son of a well-to-do farmer who lost his property. William, not
above work, assisted his father as butcher, then taught school, and later
served as a lawyer's clerk. When he was eighteen, like most young people,
he fell in love."
Saying this, Gertrude led to the street, and the party drove to Shottery,
a pretty village a mile away, where is Ann Hathaway's thatched cottage.
"Here the beardless William often came," said Gertrude, "and told his
love to the English maiden. Ann Hathaway was older than William, she was
twenty-six, but they were married, and had three children.
"When Shakespeare was twenty-five he was part owner of the Blackfriar's
Theatre in London. There he spent his literary life, and there he was
actor, dramatist, and manager. He became rich and returned occasionally
to Stratford where he bought lands and built houses.
"If we can trust statues and paintings and writers, William Shakespeare
had a kingly physique, light hazel eyes and auburn hair."
"What about his death?" inquired Colonel Harris.
"Of his death," said Gertrude, "we know little, save that the Vicar of
Stratford wrote that Shakespeare, Drayton, and Ben Johnson had a merry
meeting, possibly drank too much, and that Shakespeare died of a fever
then contracted, on the anniversary of his birth, when he was fifty-two
years old."
"And where was he buried?" inquired Lucille.
"In the Stratford church," answered Gertrude, and the carriages were
driven up an avenue of arching lime trees. The old church, with its tall
and graceful spire, reflected in the waters of the Avon, is a restful
place for the body that contains the mightiest voice in literature. Near
by also lie buried his wife and their children. A plain slab in the floor
covers his remains.
Recently a new grave was dug near Shakespeare's and the intervening wall
fell in. A workman ventured to hold a lighted taper in death's chamber,
which revealed that the ashes of the immortal Shakespeare could be held
in the palm of the hand. The Harris party drove back to Leamington to
spend the night.