Exhibitions followed in Milan, Turin, Genoa and other cities of northern
Italy, then the travelers passed into France, to the headwaters of the
Rhone. Paul had selected this river for his next voyage. With the
intention of making the entire stream from its source to the
Mediterranean, he visited Geneva, in Switzerland. Here he discovered
that it would be impossible to start from the lake, as by doing so he
would be carried into the great cavern known as Per du Rhone, in which
the entire river disappears and makes a mysterious and unexplored
passage under the mountain. He was anxious to try the underground
current through the cavern and did not give up the idea until several
experiments had convinced him that it would be foolhardy to make the
attempt. He stationed one of his assistants at the point where the Rhone
again comes to the surface and with the help of others, miles above at
the mouth of the cavern, he sent in logs of wood, bladders and other
buoyant objects, none of which were observed to pass through by the
watcher below. The last and deciding experiment, was sending in a pair
of live ducks and these, also were lost. He then concluded to start
below the cavern and selected the little village of Seyssel as the best
point to prepare for the voyage.
The Rhone when high is one of the most rapid rivers in the world, and
Paul's trip from Seyssel to the Mediterranean was the swiftest he ever
made. The entire distance is five hundred kilometers, or three hundred
miles, and his actual running time was sixty hours. He was enabled to
push along at this unusual rate on account of the freshets swelling the
river to a flood. He passed in safety the perilous rapids of the Saute
du Rhone; but near the frontier of France he had a marvelous escape from
a frightful death. The authorities on the frontier are kept busy
watching for smugglers who work contraband goods from Switzerland into
France. A quantity of goods were smuggled through the lines by floating
them down the river at night, and in order to catch such articles the
officers of the Duane stretched a strong gate of chain work across
the river just at the border. This gate is thickly set with sharp iron
hooks which hold the packages that float against them. Paul was not
informed of this dangerous bar to his progress. As he neared the
frontier village he noticed the utmost excitement amongst the crowds
congregated on the banks. From their wild gesticulations, he could see
they were shouting; but he thought they were simply cheering him and
continued his rapid approach on the swollen stream. When near enough
he saw that their faces were pale and they were making motions for
him to stop; but the current was so swift that such a thing was
impossible. He was irresistibly carried along by the terrible force. He
next noticed several guards rush out on the bridge, who, throwing off
their coats, began quickly to turn heavy cranks, and then he saw the
sheet of glistening hooks rising slowly from the water. Now he
understood why they had tried to stop him. To be thrown with all that
force against those hooks meant not only certain death, but fearful
mutilation.
Swiftly he drew near the wicked looking points and slowly, oh, so slowly
they rose above the water. The people watched with nervous dread.
Could they be hoisted high enough before he reached them? Many a silent
prayer was murmured that the guards would be successful. Bravely those
men strained every muscle; but the thing was unwieldy and the work was
slow--fearfully slow. The terror of the people was depicted on their
faces. They now saw that the last row of hooks was nearing the surface,
but Boyton was almost upon them. The panting and perspiring guards
redoubled their efforts. Paul swept under and the lower line of hooks
barely allowed him to pass unscathed. A great shout went up from the
crowd.
The current at that point was running fully twelve miles an hour. Boyton
was asked how he felt when going so rapidly: "Such lively motion," he
said, "greatly excites you. Your heart beats fast; you feel as if you
had enormous power, whereas you have no power at all. There is something
in the danger that pleases and thrills you."
After passing under the smuggler's chain gate, his course ran between
lines of hills which fringe the banks of the river. He could see here
and there on the slopes, an old woman with a cow. Every cow seemed to
have a woman attendant in that country. Now and again one of them would
catch sight of Paul as he sped along. For a second she would gaze at the
unusual object and then move off--she and her cow. One old dame happened
to be nearer the water's edge than the others, the voyager saluted by
standing up in the water and shouting:
"Bon jour"
She crossed herself, and fled.
Next morning he was nearing the rapids of the Saute du Rhone, and
inquired of the people he saw: "How far is the Saute?
"About two kilometers," was the answer.
"Which side shall I take for safety?"
"The left."
The next one told him to take the right, and at last he was advised to
keep in the middle.
Finding he could gain no reliable information, he stood upright and
looked about to see, if possible, what the danger was. Ahead of him was
a rapid, running amid big, black rocks and crossed by a bridge which was
crowded with people. It was too late to think of stopping himself and be
swept into and through it like an arrow; but at the bottom he was
carried against a wall of rock and nearly blinded. He hung there for a
few moments to recover himself, and again felt the current bearing him
away almost as fast as he approached. He was kindly received all along,
and had he accepted one-third of the invitations to entertainments, some
months would have been required to finish the voyage. On one
lonely stretch, he saw a solitary countryman standing on the bank.
"Ho, ho; my good friend," he shouted.
"Who is there?" asked the startled farmer.
"The devil."
"Where are you going?"
"To Lyons."
"Well, get along, then; you are going home."
Probably the farmer had visited Lyons, and was not pleased with that
city.
Paul entered Lyons at two o'clock, having been twenty-four hours under
way. He was tendered a splendid reception and presented with several
rich souvenirs. Resuming the journey, he traveled at the rate of fifteen
miles an hour and many people accompanied him in boats for quite a
distance down the stream. At places along the route, the banks were
broken, the river flooded the lowlands, and he was frequently carried
among groves of trees, requiring no little exertion to keep from being
pounded against them by the force of the current. He paddled that night
and all the next day and night without meeting unusual adventure, when
he reached Pont St. Esprit, with its long stone bridge, through one arch
of which, the river rushes with much force. The next day ended this
rapid voyage, as he landed at Arles in safety. The entire population
was out to receive him. Not thinking of his exhausted condition, a
force of gendarmes who had been sent by the Mayor to escort him to the
hotel de Vine, turned a deaf ear to his demands for a carriage, but
insisted on his marching through the hot, dusty street, encased in the
heavy rubber dress, carrying his little boat and paddle so the people
would have a good chance to see him. The gendarmes meant everything in
kindness; but in that case, kindness coupled with ignorance, resulted
in Paul's arriving at the hotel barely able to walk; he expressed his
gratitude in rather vigorous terms.
From Arles, Boyton visited Monaco on the invitation of Monsieur Blanc,
who was then at the head of the great gambling institutions of that
place. At the instance of this world-famous gambler, Paul gave an
exhibition for which he was presented with two-thousand-five-hundred
francs by his host and his agent received five-hundred francs. The
evening after the exhibition, Monsieur Blanc escorted the voyager
through the sumptuous gambling palace. Thinking to please Monsieur, who
had been so generous with him, Paul thought he would wager a few francs
at one of the numerous rouge et noir tables and was proceeding to put
down a Napoleon, when he was observed by his host whose attention
had been distracted for a moment.
"Don't you do it," said he quickly, grasping Paul by the arm, "there are
fools enough here without your becoming one."
Monsieur drew his guest away from the table and took him into the
private office where rouleaux of gold were stacked in great piles about
the walls.
One of the queer superstitions of gamblers was vividly impressed on
Boyton at this place. Leaving Monsieur Blanc's office he sauntered
about through the rooms, deeply interested in the exciting scenes before
him. It became noised around that he was in the place, and some one
pointed him out. He was immediately besieged at almost every step by
ladies who had been playing with ill success. They represented
almost every nationality, French, American, Russian, English and
Italian. Looking upon him as a lucky man, they tried to persuade him to
play for them.
"Ah, Captain Boyton," one would say, "you are a man of great luck. If
you put this bet down for me, I know I shall win."
That was the request made by several, when they had an opportunity to
speak to him. One or two assistants would have been needed to
accommodate all of them.
Leaving Monaco, Paul gave successful exhibitions in the principal cities
of southern France and was honored with several decorations. At Lyons
he gave an entertainment for the benefit of the poor in the Park of the
Golden Head, at which fifteen thousand francs were realized. One of the
handsomest ladies of the city, donned a suit and went into the water
with him. As a mark of appreciation, the people presented him with
a magnificent poinard, sheathed in a richly carved scabbard, ornamented
with a handle of artistic design, weighing, with the exception of the
blade of fine steel, ten pounds solid silver.
Exhibitions were given through Belgium until November 15th, 1877, In
Brussels they took one thousand dollars a day for four days, and at
a benefit for the poor given in the lake of the Bois de Cambrai, under
the patronage of King Leopold, at which the Royal family was present,
an enormous sum resulted. The king bestowed on Paul the medal of the
First Order of Life Savers of Belgium.
November 17th, he began a voyage down the Somme, which occupied two
days. He started at Amiens. On the evening of the first day, just
before reaching Ponte Remy, where he intended to stop for the night, he
was surprised at receiving a charge of shot. While he was drifting
around a point above that place, a duck hunter who was concealed in the
bushes mistook his feet for a pair of ducks and fired at them. Luckily
the shot struck the heavy rubber soles of his dress and no damage was
done. Boyton rose up in the water with a torrent of forcible comments in
English, and the frightened sportsman rapidly disappeared in the
darkness.
Starting early next morning, he arrived at Abbyville in the evening,
where the customary generous reception awaited him. Next day he
returned to Amiens where he gave an entertainment, and thence to Paris.
He had a new tender built in the latter city, in anticipation of a
voyage down the Loire. He christened the new tender the Isabel Alvarez
du Toledo, in honor of a fair maid of Italy. He began the voyage of
the Loire, December 8th, 1877, at Orleans, to make a run to Nantes, a
distance of four hundred and nine miles. The weather was cold and
miserable. The river is bad, numerous shifting sand bars making it
difficult to keep the channel, and added to this are many beds of
treacherous quicksands. The lowlands, through which the course of the
river runs, leave a free vent for the wind to strike its surface, making
it desirable for sail boats to navigate. They are mostly wood and
provision boats, flat bottomed and built somewhat on the plan of
canal boats. They carry an enormous square sail on a single mast,
larger than any sail used on the greatest ships.
At nine o'clock in the morning the start was made from Orleans and Paul
arrived at Blois in the evening, where he came very near having his arm
broken by coming in contract with a pile as he was leaving, so instead
of running all night as he had intended doing, he hauled up and remained
at Blois, much to the satisfaction of the citizens who entertained him
in the most pleasant manner.
The following afternoon he started for an all night run, in order to
make up for lost time. At nightfall the weather grew intensely cold
and ice soon covered all exposed parts of his dress. A small, but
powerful lamp on the bow of the tender, gave him plenty of light and
that evening furnished the means of some amusement. Along the frozen
road which follows the river bank for quite a distance, he heard the
clattering of the sabots of a belated peasant, who was singing to keep
his courage up. Paul darkened the lamp by putting a piece of rubber over
it, and when the profile of the peasant stood clear between him and the
sky, he suddenly removed the rubber and turned, the light full on the
man, at the same time sounding an unearthly blast on his bugle. The
startled peasant uttered no sound; but the distant clinking of his
sabots down the road, told how badly he was frightened.
About four o'clock that morning, Paul felt his dress touching bottom,
the current slackened, and he knew he had wandered into a false channel.
With some difficulty, he assumed an upright position and the moment he
did so, found his legs grasped as in a vise.
He was caught in the quicksand.
With a feeling of horror he felt himself settling, settling in the
treacherous sands, until he was slicked down nearly to the neck, his
face almost even with the surface, the dark water gliding by him like
some slimy serpent into the night.
The tender swung round with her bow pointing toward him, the strong
light from the bull's eye glaring him in the face with its blinding
rays. The little boat seemed to realize the awful situation and she
tugged at the cord which fastened her to the dress, as though struggling
to free him. From the moment the sands were felt, he' had worked to
free himself, only to find that the effort sunk him deeper. He began to
think he was not going to get out; that his time had come and not a
trace on earth would be left to tell of his dreadful end. But his was
not a nature to give up until the last gasp. The thought struck him
that there was some chance for life by fully inflating the dress which,
would have a tendency to lighten and give him more buoyancy. He seized
the air tubes and in the desperation of a final hope, he blew for his
life. He could feel himself lighting as the chambers filled. He had the
dress inflated almost to bursting and with a powerful effort, he threw
himself on his back. He was lifted clear and moved away on the gliding
water, continuing the lonely journey with a prayer of thanksgiving in
his heart.
At ten o'clock next morning he arrived at Tours, with nerves
considerably shattered, and he accepted the invitation of that
municipality to stop for refreshments. The kindness of the citizens and
the officials was overwhelming, but he remained only long enough to
become thoroughly rested when he again sought the river.
At every village during the entire trip, he was given a warm reception.
The weather being cold, the mayors insisted on his drinking hot, highly
spiced wine, and he was also invariably greeted with the question asked
in all countries and all towns, American as well as European: "Are you
not cold?"
The little boat was loaded down with supplies and invitations were
continuous from chateau and cottage to stop and partake of
refreshment. Sometimes he would run far into the night before hauling
up, but usually his rest was broken by bands of music turning out to
serenade him, and at one place, where there was no band, an enthusiastic
admirer blew a hunting horn most of the night under his window. It was a
frightful but well intended serenade.
When he reached Ancenes he was met by a crowd, headed by the mayor with
a liberal supply of hot wine. From this point a boatman who was
employed in placing stakes indicating the changes of current, for the
guidance of navigators, insisted on accompanying Paul. He had been on a
protracted spree and proved annoying.
"I know the river well," he said, "and will pilot you down."
"I assure you there is no necessity for a pilot," Paul answered, "I have
journeyed so far without one and can go the rest of the way."
He could not get rid of the fellow that easily, so he concluded to try
some other plan. After they had proceeded a short distance Boyton asked
the persistent boatman to have a drink, at the same time handing him a
bottle of very strong wine that had been given him to use in case he
needed a stimulant. The fellow, already half intoxicated, absorbed most
of the contents and was soon maudlin. He ran his boat around and across
Boyton to the latter's great annoyance. He became drowsy, however, and
finally fell into a deep sleep. That was the opportunity Paul desired.
He seized the anchor that was in the bow of the fellow's boat and
dropped it in the stream. The boat swung around and hung there, and
Paul paddled away. When quite a distance down he heard faint cries of
"Captain, Captain, where are you?" The boatman thought he was drifting;
but Boyton never saw him again.
Below Ancenes Paul was met by Jules Verne, the distinguished novelist,
who came up the river on a boat rowed by some of his sailors. He
accompanied the voyager all the way to Nantes, where the trip
terminated. The two men became great friends, the navigator
enjoying the novelist's hospitality on his yacht and also at his
residence in Nantes. Monsieur Verne afterward made use of the
life-saving dress to illustrate scenes in a novel entitled "The
Tribulations of a Chinaman." Nantes was reached eight days from the
time of starting. Excursion steamers met them and fired salutes, The
Hospitaliers des Sauveteurs Bretons, the leading life-saving society
of France, elected Paul an officer of the first rank and gave him
diplomas and medals.