for his works, and returned to Egypt in 1860. The preliminary works
were commenced in this year, and proceeded with, notwithstanding great
opposition, especially from the British Government. Another great
difficulty presented itself, for during the progress of the works Saïd
Pasha died, and was succeeded by his brother Ismaïl.
Ismaïl was alarmed at the magnitude and uncertainty of the grants to
the Canal Company, and was anxious to retire from the obligation of
finding forced labour for the construction of the works. He therefore
refused to ratify or agree to the concession granted by his brother.
For a time the whole works of the Canal were stopped, but eventually
the question in dispute, together with the objection which had been
raised as to the necessity of obtaining the Sultan's confirmation of
the original concession, was referred to the arbitration of the Emperor
of the French.
In the result Napoleon III. awarded the sum of £3,800,000, to be paid
by the Viceroy of Egypt to the Canal Company as an indemnity for the
loss they had sustained by the withdrawal of forced labour. This sum
was applied by the Company to the prosecution of the works of the Canal.
In 1865 a small channel was made, with sufficient water to admit
the passage of very small vessels. By the year 1867, the bed of the
Canal was so far enlarged as to admit the passage of small ships and
schooners. In August, 1869, the waters of the Mediterranean were
mingled with those of the Red Sea.
[Illustration: AGE 55.
_From a Photo by Reutlinger, Paris._
(Date of commencement of Suez Canal.)]
On November the 17th, 1869, the Canal was formally opened at Port Said,
amid a series of fêtes, which culminated in the famous ball given at
Ismailia, by Ismaïl Pasha, which combined all the extravagance of the
East with the civilization of the West. The ball was opened by Count
de Lesseps with the Empress Eugénie as his partner. The Emperor of
Austria, the Crown Prince of Prussia, and many other Royal personages
were included amongst the Viceroy's guests. Ismaïl Pasha was at this
time in the height of his glory, and he lavished his hospitality
broadcast.
[Illustration: AGE 64.
_From a Photo by A. Liébert, Paris._
(Date of completion of Suez Canal.)]
A few days after this great triumph, Count de Lesseps married a
young Creole--Mlle. Autard de Bragard. A little romance is told of
his first meeting with Mlle. de Bragard, on the voyage from France
to Egypt. Count de Lesseps had gathered in Palestine some roses near
the Dead Sea, called the roses of Sheron. They are a genus of dried
flowers, which, when placed in water, open and present an appearance of
blooming. He explained the peculiar characteristic of this flower, and
remarked it was similar to his old heart when nurtured. Thus was the
proposal made and, as is known, accepted.
By this marriage he had twelve children, six boys and six girls:
Mathieu, born 12th October, 1870; Ismaïl, born 27th November, 1871;
Ferdinande, his eldest daughter, born 3rd December, 1872, and who
has married the Count Ferdinand de Goutant Biron; Eugénie, born 1st
January, 1874, died 19th May, 1874; Consuelo and Bertrand, twins, born
3rd February, 1875; Helene, born 8th July, 1876; Solange, born 18th
September, 1877; Paul, born 13th April, 1880; Robert, born 23rd May,
1882; Jacques, born 5th July, 1883; Giselle, born 16th December, 1885.
We give here three photographs of Count de Lesseps and his family. The
first shows the "Grand Français," with seven children; the next, Count
and Countess de Lesseps, with nine children; and the third, the two
parents and their whole family.
After the success of Suez, he was appointed by Napoleon III. to the
rank of Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour, and was created by Her
Majesty Queen Victoria an Honorary Knight Grand Commander of the Order
of the Star of India, and in July, 1870, the freedom of the City of
London was presented to him.
[Illustration: AGE 74.
_From a Photo by Nadar, Paris._
(Date of commencement of Panama Canal.)]
About ten years after the triumph of Suez, his restless spirit prompted
him to undertake a stupendous task, which even then filled his friends
and advisers with anxiety. He had long conceived the idea of uniting
the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, as he had already done the Red Sea
and the Mediterranean. He convened a Congress of all the European and
American Powers to decide as to the routes to be selected for the
construction of a canal--whether _viâ_ Panama, Tehuantepec, Nicaragua,
or Darien. Although opinion was greatly divided at the Congress as
to the route, he favoured that _viâ_ Panama, and, ultimately, carried
his opinion. This fatal step was the origin of all the troubles of his
declining life. His glory seemed like to wane before the disasters that
befell his project, and his title of "Le Grand Français" appeared to
have been forgotten.
[Illustration: COUNT DE LESSEPS AND GROUP OF SEVEN CHILDREN.
_From a Photograph._]
[Illustration: COUNT AND COUNTESS DE LESSEPS AND GROUP OF NINE CHILDREN.
_From a Photo by Nadar, Paris._]
He formed his Company in 1881 with a capital of £24,000,000, which did
not last long. Between 1883 and 1887 further moneys were obtained by
means of several loans and lotteries, and these funds were supplied
to the fatal abyss, until the amount reached the enormous sum of
£60,000,000. This sum was also spent and squandered. His staff showed
a want of foresight, and a want of something which is better left
unexplained. The Panama scandals in Paris revealed enough to the world
to allow everyone to judge for himself. But Count Ferdinand de Lesseps
was ignorant of all the vicious stratagems employed, and was in no way
responsible. He, however, with his son Charles, had to bear the brunt
of the catastrophe and atone for others.
[Illustration: COUNT AND COUNTESS DE LESSEPS AND GROUP OF ELEVEN
CHILDREN.
_From a Photo by Nadar, Paris._]
The works were stopped in 1887 for want of funds. The Canal at that
time was only partly cut. The machinery, houses, barracks, huts,
sheds, were all deserted. From being once the scene of active life
and the centre of 20,000 living beings, the Isthmus of Panama is now
forsaken, and the sepulchre of the hard-earned savings of many a French
peasant. The weight of such a grave responsibility as the loss of over
£60,000,000, subscribed principally from the purses of the French
thrifty, together with the prosecution of his son, has increased his
age tenfold. He was strong and hopeful at eighty; he is senile and weak
at eighty-nine.
The accompanying photographs show Count de Lesseps at the commencement
of his fatal task in Panama, and at the present day.
[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
_From a Photo by V. Daireaux, Paris._]
Death would have been a consolation to his many troubles, and would
have ended a life full of success and glory up to its zenith, and now
fast ebbing amidst the smouldering ruins of a disastrous enterprise.
The concession granted by the Republic of Colombia for the construction
of the Panama Canal elapses in 1895. The Colombian Government may
extend it, but will this avail? Some great engineer must answer this
question.
_Some Interesting Pictures._
The modern processes of photographic reproduction for the illustration
of books and periodicals have given us one great advantage at
least, irrespective of their rapidity of execution and comparative
inexpensiveness: the pictures as printed are absolute facsimiles
of the originals. Thus it is possible to present a scientifically
accurate reproduction of any especially interesting document, drawing,
plan, or picture, unimpaired by the interference of any other hand
than that of the original writer or draughtsman; and one may, for all
practical purposes, examine an autograph which, in its actual self,
is inaccessible. The facsimiles which are here produced are all of an
extremely interesting, though entirely diverse, character.
[Illustration: A CHINESE "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS."
THE PILGRIMS ESCAPING FROM DOUBTING CASTLE.]
"The Pilgrim's Progress," illustrated by a Chinese artist, in drawings
conveying the Chinese conception of Christian's adventures, cannot
fail to be, at least, curious. Such a series of drawings was made and
printed, not very long ago, in Canton. There is no text beyond the
title printed at one of the top corners of each illustration. Three
of these illustrations are here reproduced, representing respectively
Christian's combat with Apollyon, Christian and Faithful escaping
from Doubting Castle and Giant Despair, and the Shining One releasing
Christian and Faithful from the Flatterer's Net. The absolute fidelity
in detail of these pictures to the narrative is no less to be remarked
than the very Chinese characteristics of those details.
[Illustration: A CHINESE "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS."
THE FIGHT WITH APOLLYON.]
Next we have a facsimile of a very different character from the last.
This is a sketch, drawn by Nelson with his left hand, after he had
lost his right, by way of explanation of his tactics at the battle of
Aboukir (the Nile). The particulars of the occasion are inscribed by a
witness in the left-hand bottom corner of the sketch. The sketch itself
is naturally of the roughest description, as, indeed, would be the case
with one drawn by the right hand if the sketcher were explaining his
meaning by word of mouth as he went along. At the left, a very rough
figure, intended to represent an arrow-head, indicates the direction of
the wind. The horizontal line of oval figures in the middle represents
the French fleet as it lay at anchor in the bay. The line marked "track
of the English fleet" shows the direction in which Nelson approached,
and the broken scorings in the middle of the French line show where
part of the English fleet broke that line. The dotted line between half
of the French fleet and the shoals just off shore marks the position
taken up by one half of the English fleet, while the other half
attacked the same ships on the opposite side, thus annihilating half
of the enemy to begin with, while the other half were helplessly to
leeward and unable to give assistance; afterwards working down the line
and finishing off the rest, with the exception of the few ships that
escaped.
[Illustration: A CHINESE "PILGRIM'S PROGRESS."
THE SHINING ONE RELEASING THE PILGRIMS FROM THE FLATTERER'S NET.]
[Illustration: PLAN OF THE BATTLE OF ABOUKIR. DRAWN BY LORD NELSON WITH
HIS LEFT HAND.]
[Illustration: THE BANDIT'S REVENGE. BY W. M. THACKERAY.]
Between this and our next pair of facsimiles there is every possible
difference. Thackeray's fondness of and facility in sketching, and
his ungratified ambition to excel as an artist, are well known. Great
numbers of his earlier sketches have been unearthed and published,
but we have here some that have never before been printed--and some
by no means of the worst. They exist in a sketch-book, and appear to
have been made in the year 1832, when Thackeray was just of age. There
are five sheets of sketches (of which we here present two), embodying
a burlesque melodrama, entitled "The Bandit's Revenge; or, the Fatal
Sword." In the beginning we see the hero, Vivaldi, escaping from
the Bandit's castle. Next there is an exhibition of the consequent
rage of the Bandit chief. The cask labelled "gunpowder" is provided
with a suspicious-looking tap, and the carelessness with which the
Bandit has placed his torch on the cask-head hints that perhaps he
keeps something more internally grateful than gunpowder in that cask.
But Vivaldi's escape is only temporary, for in the next sketch he is
captured, and being dragged back to the robber's stronghold; and in
the last sketch of the first sheet his pitiable and starved condition
in the "deepest dungeon beneath the castle moat" is well set forth.
This completes Act I. Act II. begins with contrition on the part of
the gaoler, who assists his escape by the loan of a mule, mounted on
which the emaciated hero is taken, by the country folk, for Death on
his Pale Horse. The Bandit's anger at this second escape culminates
in a pyramid of heads, with the traitorous gaoler's on top; while the
liberated Vivaldi, forgetful of his changed appearance, essays to jump
his mule in at his Bertha's window, sending that lady into a very
excusable swoon. This concludes Act II. In the next sketch (for which,
unfortunately, and for those succeeding it, we have not room) Vivaldi,
under the benign influence of good living, has grown comparatively fat,
and converses lovingly with his Bertha. But the Bandit chief is not
done with yet, and he waits in ambush with his retainers, variously
armed, to attack the marriage train, which is seen approaching in
the distance, bishops, dancers, and all complete. Next we see the
fatal effect of the Bandit's attack. Bridesmaids, croziers, and
ecclesiastical functionaries lie in a heap on the ground, but Vivaldi
stands unharmed and defies his foes, while Bertha swoons comfortably
against his back. Then with a lunge of his mighty sword (which has
suddenly lengthened out to about fifteen feet) Vivaldi transfixes the
whole robber band of six as they stand in convenient single file,
driving his point also through a stout tree standing behind. The drama
finishes with an "emblematic vision," wherein Vivaldi and Bertha,
some years older, take hands in the centre under the shelter of that
interminable sword, while on each side stand half-a-dozen children of
various ages. The last sketch represents the manager addressing "the
fullest house ever known in this theatre," consisting of four persons
besides the orchestra, and thanking them for their approval. Finally
follow two sheets of manuscript, purporting to be extracts from the
rival local papers, taking opposite views of the performance and
bullying each other. One comes out with some lines to the leading lady,
lines with many of the characteristics of the local paper. The first
verse runs as follows:--
I saw thee, and my feelings gushed
In one tumultuous tide;
My eye was dim, my ear was hushed
To everything beside.
I thought my heart was withered,
But from out its mould'ring cinders
A mighty flame there gathered
For thee, my love, my Flinders.
These verses are, of course, abused violently by the opposition paper.
Those who are curious to examine those of this set of drawings not here
presented, together with facsimiles of the two pages of manuscript, are
referred to _The Picture Magazine_ of this month, in which the whole of
the pictures here produced appear, with many others of equal interest.
Among the rest there are nine more of the Chinese illustrations to "The
Pilgrim's Progress."
[Illustration: THE BANDIT'S REVENGE. BY W. M. THACKERAY.]
"Variety is the spice of life," somebody once said, and here we have
the facsimile of the horoscope cast for John Milton's birth, by
Gadbury, the astrological contemporary of Lilly--a thing as little like
what has gone before as may be. With the exception, perhaps, of the
inscription in the centre, the whole affair is about as intelligible to
the average person as any side of Cleopatra's Needle. An astrologer,
however, reads it all as easily as if it were a bill of fare, and a
modern practitioner (Mr. Alan Leo, of _The Astrologer's Magazine_)
informs us that the indications set forth on this hieroglyphic tell
a tale curiously in keeping with the actual facts of Milton's life.
His pleasures, it seems, were to take a serious turn; he was to have
a versatile genius in literature, but with a chief bent to serious
work. His first marriage was to be a failure in consequence of some
vagary on the part of certain moons, but he was to marry again. Mars so
interfered with the Sun that it was evident that he would be blind in
his forty-fifth year; and there are other prophecies, almost equally
exact, and all very wonderful.
[Illustration: _Facsimile of a Horoscope set on the Nativity
of MILTON the POET:
by John Gadbury the Astrologer_]
A facsimile of a photograph closes our present list. The photograph is
that of an Indian fakir--one of the most celebrated in India at the
present moment, if not actually the most celebrated. He is seventy
years of age, and has worn the immense mass of iron chains shown
in the photograph continuously, without a moment's cessation, for
the past ten years. The weight of the iron is 670lb., and as may be
seen, the "Jingling Fakir," as he is called, is by no means a man of
muscular build--certainly not of the build best fitted to adopt such an
amusement as the continual carriage of considerably more than a quarter
of a ton of iron chain.
[Illustration: THE JINGLING FAKIR.]
In addition to these, as has already been remarked, several other
interesting pictures are to be seen in the present issue of _The
Picture Magazine_, as, indeed, is usual every month. It needs but to
see these to understand that a book of pictures alone may be something
a great deal more important and interesting than a book for children
merely.
_From Behind the Speaker's Chair._
XV.
(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)
[Sidenote: DRESS IN THE IRISH PARLIAMENT.]
Fortuitously at a time when the re-establishment of an Irish Parliament
at Dublin was within measurable distance, there has been brought to
light a suit of clothes described as the Court garments of a member of
the Irish Parliament who represented County Cavan in the year 1774.
It has, of course, turned up in the United States, and is now on view
in a shop in Chicago. The suit is described as being of a deep maroon
broadcloth, embroidered with heavy solid gold bullion, with the figure
of a harp surrounded by a wreath of shamrock, and a vine of the same
extending around the skirt. The breeches are of a deep yellow plush,
and the three-cornered cocked hat is of black beaver, covered with
gold lace. From this it would appear that when Ireland had her own
Parliament her sons spared neither money nor taste in the effort to
live up to it in the matter of clothes. The suit, on the whole, seems
almost to suggest the presence of a State coachman. Taken in the mass,
it must have been very effective.
[Illustration: "EM I TO UNDERSTAND?"]
One can imagine how naturally Mr. Field would take to a revival of
this uniform. In the Saxon Parliament he represents the St. Patrick's
Division of Dublin City. He sits below the gangway, and on summer
afternoons distinctly endows that portion of the House with a haze of
reflective light. It is from his shirt-front, which in the matter of
displayed area is, at any time before the dinner-hour, remarkable,
whilst its glossiness is almost dazzling. With this snowy expanse
cunningly set-off by contrast with a black necktie reposing under a
turned-down collar, and with his long hair haughtily brushed back
behind his ears, Mr. Field might be anything in the high art line, from
a poet to a harpist. Actually he is, apart from politics, something
in the victualling business. He is great at question time, and is a
terror to the Chief Secretary. Having put his question and received
his answer, he invariably rises, and, expanding his chest and throwing
out his right arm with impressive gesture, slowly says: "Em I to
understand that the right honourable gentleman means----" Here follows
a supplementary question of expanse proportionate to the shirt-front.
As a rule, it turns out that he is not to understand anything of the
kind. But he has had his fling, and let St. Patrick know that William
Field, M.P., is on the look-out tower.
[Sidenote: SEVENTY YEARS AGO.]
I have an engraving showing a view of the interior of the House of
Commons during the Session of 1821-3. It is the old House of Commons,
illumined by candles alight below the ventilator, a recess wherein
ladies found their only opportunity of being present at a debate. It
was, as I mentioned some time ago, out of a chink in this part of the
roof that Mr. Gladstone once in the middle of an exciting debate saw a
bracelet fall. It was not the habit of the House of Commons to assemble
in anything like uniform, but the dress of the gentlemen of the day was
much more picturesque than ours. On this night, in a Session more than
seventy years dead, every member of the House wears a coat buttoned
across his chest, with deep collar rising, in some cases, up to his
ears. Some display shirt collars of the kind Mr. Gladstone sports to
this day. They are in a few cases sustained by a black stock, more
frequently by a white scarf loosely tied, in which is set a pin. For
the most part the coats are cut away at the hip, the trousers are
preternaturally tight, and, where top-boots are not worn outside, are
strapped under the instep.
[Illustration: OLD STYLE.]
This was the Long Parliament under the Premiership of Lord Liverpool.
Summoned on the 9th June, 1812, it was dissolved on the 24th April,
1827, having lasted the almost unprecedented period of fourteen years
319 days. Eldon was Lord Chancellor for the fourth and last time. F.
J. Robinson and Vansittart succeeded each other at the Exchequer. Sir
Robert Peel was sometime Home Secretary, sometime Irish Secretary.
Castlereagh and Canning shared between them, in succession, the office
of Foreign Secretary. All their portraits, with the exception of Lord
Eldon's, are shown in this engraving, being the careful work of one
Robert Bowyer. In pictures of the House of Commons done in these later
times, a majority of members are shown wearing their hats, as is the
custom in the House. Whether for artistic purposes, or because seventy
years ago it was not the thing to wear the hat in the presence of the
Speaker, no hats are shown in this old engraving. This circumstance
brings into fuller notice the greater average age of members of
Parliament in those days. On all the closely packed seats one finds
only here and there a face that looks as young as thirty.
[Sidenote: DRESS IN THE COMMONS.]
Up to recent times, the unwritten law of the House of Commons with
respect to dress was severe. There was a wholesome impression that a
man setting out for Westminster should array himself very much as if
he were going to church. Twenty years ago no member would have thought
of entering the precincts of the House wearing anything other than
the consecrated stove-pipe hat. It was the Irish members who broke
down this ancient custom, as they are responsible for changing the
manners of Parliament in more important respects. John Martin was, as
far as I remember, the first member who crossed the Lobby of the House
in a low-crowned hat. But he shrank from obtruding it on the notice
of the Speaker. He carried it in his hand, stowing it away out of
sight during a debate. Even this modest demeanour led to an interview
with the Speaker. Mr. Brand was then in the Chair. He sent for Mr.
Martin, courteously but firmly explained to him that he was breaking
an unwritten law of Parliament, and asked him to provide himself with
head-gear more usually seen at Westminster. Mr. Martin at once obeyed
the injunction, a conclusion of the story which shows how far we have
marched in the last eighteen years.
[Illustration: MR. JOSEPH COWEN.]
Mr. Martin belonged to the Irish party, parliamentary _sapeurs_ to
whom nothing is sacred. Of English members, the first to break the
traditions of the House in this matter was Mr. Joseph Cowen. In the
course of an already distinguished career, he had never possessed a
top-hat, and even the honour of representing Newcastle in Parliament
could not drive him to alter the fashion of his head-gear. But like
John Martin, he, whilst pleasing his own fancy, was careful not
to offend the prejudices of others. He always entered the House
bareheaded, and so sat throughout a debate, his broad-brimmed, soft
felt hat not being donned till he had passed the doors. At this day the
Speaker looking round a moderately full House will see half-a-dozen
top-hats of various ages and shades of colour fearlessly worn. Mr. Keir
Hardie, desiring to go one better in the effort to flout "the classes,"
was obliged to come down in a greasy tweed cap.
[Sidenote: KAMARBANDS.]