in the year 1895 of blessed memory there was living in the town of paris at the expense of his parents a young english gentleman of the name of bilbury; at least, if that were not his name his name was so nearly that that it doesn’t matter. he spoke french very well, and had for his age (which was twenty-four) a very good working acquaintance with french customs. he was popular among the students with whom he associated, and it was his especial desire not to seem too much of a foreigner on the various occasions when french life contrasts somewhat with that of this island. it was something of a little mania of his, for though he was patriotic to a degree when english history or english habits were challenged, yet it made him intolerably nervous to feel exceptional or eccentric in the town where he lived. it was upon this account that he fought a duel.
there happened to be resident in the town of paris at the same time another gentleman, whose name was newman; he also was young, he also was english, but whereas mr. bilbury was by genius a painter, mr. newman was by vocation an engineer. and while mr. bilbury would spend hours in the[139] studio of a master whom (in common with the other students) he despised, mr. newman was continually occupied in playing billiards with his fellow students of engineering in the university. and while mr. bilbury was spending quite twelve hours a day in finding out how to make a picture look like a thing if you stood a long way off from it (which is the end and object of his school in paris), mr. newman had already acquired the art of making a billiard ball come right back again towards the cue after it had struck its neighbour. mr. bilbury had learned how to sing in chorus with the other students songs relating in no way to pictorial excellence; mr. newman had learned to sing those songs peculiar to students of engineering, but relating in no way to applied physics. in a word, these two young gentlemen had never met.
but one day mr. bilbury, going arm-in-arm with three friends towards the river, met upon the pavement of the rue bonaparte mr. newman in much the same posture, but accompanied by a rather larger bodyguard. it would have been astonishing to anyone little acquainted with the temper of students in the university, and indeed it was astonishing both to mr. newman and to mr. bilbury, though they had now for some months been acquainted with the inhabitants of that strange corner of the universe, to see how this trifling incident provoked an altercation which in its turn degenerated into a vulgar quarrel. each party refused to give way to[140] the other, and the members of each began comparing the members of the other to animals of every kind such as the pig, the cow, and even certain denizens of the deep. in the midst of the hubbub mr. bilbury, not to be outdone in the racy vigour of youth, shouted at mr. newman (who for all he knew might have been a russian revolutionary or a man from st. cyr) an epithet which he had come across in the contemporary literature of the capital, and which he imagined to be of common exchange among the merry souls of the university. to his surprise—nay, to his alarm—a dead silence followed the use of this very humble and ordinary word. mr. newman, to whom it was addressed, was not indeed ignorant of its meaning (for it meant nothing in particular and was offensive), but was astonished at the gravity of those round him when the little epithet had been uttered. with a sense of surprise now far exceeding that of mr. bilbury he saw his companions draw themselves up stiffly, take off their eccentric felt hats with large sweeping gestures, and march him off as stiff as pokers, leaving the bilbury group solemn with the solemnity of men who have a duty to perform.
that duty was very quickly accomplished. the eldest and most responsible of the three friends told bilbury very gently but very firmly that there could be no issue but one to the scene which had just passed.
“i am not blaming you, my dear john,” he said[141] kindly (mr. bilbury’s name was john), “but you know there can be only one issue.”
meanwhile mr. newman’s friends, after maintaining their strict and haughty parade almost the whole length of the rue bonaparte, broke silence together, and said: “it is shameful, and you will not tolerate it!” to which mr. newman replied by an assurance that he would in no way fall beneath the dignity of the situation.
more than this neither mr. bilbury nor mr. newman knew, but they both went to bed that night much later than either intended, and each felt in himself a something of what ruth felt when she stood among the alien corn, or words to that effect.
and next morning each of them woke with the knowledge that he had some terrible business on hand with some ass of a foreigner who had got excited, or, to be more accurate, had suddenly stopped being excited for wholly incomprehensible reasons at a particular moment in a lively conversation. both mr. newman and mr. bilbury were, i say, in this mood when there entered to mr. newman in his room in the rue des ecoles (which he could ill afford) two of his friends of the night before, who said to him very simply and rapidly that it would be better for them to act as his seconds as the others had chosen them as most fitted. to this mr. newman murmured his adhesion, and was about to ask anxiously whether he would soon see them again, when, with a solemnity quite out of keeping with[142] their usual good-fellowship, they bowed in a ritual manner and disappeared.
meanwhile a similar scene was taking place in the little fourth-floor room which mr. bilbury occupied, and mr. bilbury, somewhat better acquainted with the customs of the university, dismissed his two friends with a little speech and awaited developments.
before lunch the thing was arranged, and mr. newman, who was waiting in a rather hopeless way for his friends’ return, was informed at about twelve o’clock that all was settled; it was to be at the end of the week, up in meudon, in a field which belonged to one of his friends’ uncles. “we are less likely to be disturbed there,” said the friend, “and we can carry the affair to a satisfactory finish.” then he added: “it has a high wall all round it.”
“but,” said the other second, interrupting him, “since we have chosen pistols that will not be much good, for the report will be heard.”
“no,” said the first second in a nonchalant manner, “my uncle keeps a shooting gallery and the neighbours will think it a very ordinary sound. you had,” he explained courteously to mr. newman, “the choice of weapons as the insulted party, and we chose pistols of course.”
“of course,” said mr. newman, who was not going to give himself away upon details of this kind.
“the other man’s seconds,” went on mr. newman’s friend genially, “wanted swords, but we told[143] them that you couldn’t fence; besides which, with amateurs nothing ever happens with swords. and then,” he continued, musing, “if the other man is really good you’re done for, whereas with pistols there is always a chance.”
to mr. bilbury, equally waiting for the luncheon hour in some gloominess of soul, the same tale was told, mutatis mutandis, as they say in what is left of the classical school of the university. his adversary had chosen pistols. “and you know,” said one of his seconds to bilbury sympathetically, “he had the right of choice; technically he was the insulted party. besides which, pistols are always better if people don’t know each other.”
the other second agreed, and was firmly of the opinion that swords were only for intimate friends or politicians. they also mentioned the field at meudon, but with this difference that it became in their mouths the ancient feudal property of one of their set, and they were careful to point out that the neighbours were all royalists, devotedly attached to the family, and the safest and most silent witnesses in the world.
for the remaining days mr. bilbury and mr. newman were conducted by their separate groups of friends, the first to a shooting gallery near vincennes, the second to a shooting gallery near st. denis. their experiments were thus conducted many miles apart: and it was just as well. it was remarkable what an affluence of students came as[144] the days proceeded to see the exercise in martial sport of mr. newman. at first from fifty to sixty of the students with one or two of the pure mathematicians and three or four chemists comprised the audience, but before the week was over one might say that nearly all the applied physics and positive sciences of the university were crowding round vincennes and urging mr. newman to accurate and yet more accurate efforts at the target. at st. denis the number of artists increased in a similar proportion, and to these, before the week was ended, were added great crowds of poets, rhetoricians, and even mere symbolists, who wore purple ties and wigs. these also urged mr. bilbury to add to his proficiency; and sometimes that principal himself would shudder to see a long-haired and apparently inept person with a greenish face pick up a pistol with dreadful carelessness and put out the flame of a candle at a prodigious distance with unerring aim.
when the great day arrived two processions of such magnitude as gave proof of the latent wealth of the republic crawled up the hill to meudon. the occasion was far too solemn for a trot, and two men at least of those present thought several times uncomfortably about funerals. i must add in connection with funerals that a large coffin was placed upon trestles in a very conspicuous part of the field, into which each party entered by opposite wooden gates which, with the high square wall all round, quite shut out the surrounding neighbourhood. the two[145] groups of friends (each over a hundred in number), all dressed in black and most of them in top-hats, retired to opposite corners of the field, nor was there any sign of levity in either body in spite of their youth; the four seconds, who were in frock-coats and full of an unnatural importance, deposited upon the ground between them a very valuable leather case which, when it was opened, discovered two perfectly new pistols of a length of barrel inordinate even for the use of arabs, let alone for civilised men. these two were loaded in private and handed to either combatant, and mr. bilbury and mr. newman, having been directed each to hold the pistol pointed to the ground, were set apart by either wall while the seconds proceeded to pace the terrain. mr. newman remembered the cricket pitches of his dear home which perhaps he would never see again; mr. bilbury could think of nothing but a tune which ran in his head and caused him grave discomfort.
when the ceremony of the pacing was over the two unfortunate gentlemen were put facing each other, but twisted, with the right side of the one turning to the corresponding side of the other, so as to afford the smallest target for the deadly missiles; and then one of the seconds who held the handkerchief retired to some little distance to give the signal.
it was at this juncture, as mr. newman and mr. bilbury stood with their pistols elevated towards heaven, and waiting for the handkerchief to drop, each concentrated with a violent concentration upon[146] the emotions of the moment, that a prodigious noise of hammering and shouting was heard at one of the doors of the enclosure, and that three gentlemen—the one wearing a large three-coloured sash, the like of which neither mr. bilbury nor mr. newman had ever seen—entered, and ordered the whole party to desist in the name of the law. so summoned, the audience with the utmost precipitation climbed over the wall, forced itself through the gates, and in every manner at its disposal vanished. and the gentleman with the tri-coloured sash, sitting down in the calmest manner upon one of the trestles and turning the coffin over by way of making a table, declared himself a public officer, and took notes of all that had occurred. it was interesting to see the businesslike way in which the seconds gave evidence, and the courtesy with which the two principals were treated as distinguished foreigners by the gentleman with the three-coloured sash. he was young, like all the rest, amazingly young for a public official of such importance, but collected and evidently most efficient. when he had done taking his notes he stood up in a half-military fashion, ranged mr. newman and mr. bilbury before him, and very rapidly read out a series of legal sentences, at the conclusion of which was a fine of one hundred francs apiece, and no more said about the matter. mr. bilbury and mr. newman were astonished that attempted homicide should cost so little in this singular country. they were still more astonished to discover that etiquette[147] demanded a genial reconciliation of the two combatants under such circumstances, and they were positively amazed to find after that reconciliation that they were compatriots.
it was their seconds who insisted upon standing the dinner that evening. the whole incident was very happily over save for one passing qualm which mr. bilbury felt (and mr. newman also) when he saw the gentleman, whom he had last met as the tri-coloured official of the republic, passing through the restaurant singing at the top of his voice and waving his hand genially to the group as he went out upon the boulevard.
but they remembered that in democracies the office is distinguished from the man. luckily for democracies.
[148]
on a battle, or “journalism,” or “points of view”
“the art of historical writing is rendered the less facile in expression from i know not what personal differences which the most honest will admit into their record of events, and the most observant wilt permit to colour the picture proceeding from their pens.” (extract from the judicious essay of a gentleman in holy orders, author of a history of religious differences.)
i
from his royal highness the commander-in-chief to the minister of war of his brother the emperor of patagonia.
(begins)
i have the honour to report: upon the morning of sunday, the 31st, the enemy attacked the left of my position in great force, a little before dawn. i withdrew the xith, xiiith, and iind brigades, which were here somewhat advanced, covering their retirement with detachments from the first, the thirty-seventh, and the forty-second of the line. the retirement was executed in good order and with small loss, the total extent of which i cannot yet determine, but of which by far the[149] greater part consists of men but slightly wounded. several pieces which had been irretrievably damaged were destroyed and abandoned. upon reaching a position i had determined in my general plan before leaving the capital (see annexed sketch map a) the forces entrenched, defending a line which the enemy did not care to attack. i have reinforced the brigade with two groups drawn from the corps artillery, and have despatched all aids, medicaments, etc., required.
a simultaneous attack delivered upon the centre of my position was repulsed, the enemy flying in the utmost disorder, and leaving behind them two pieces of artillery and a colour, which last i have sent under the care of major the duke of tierra del fuego to be deposited among the glorious trophies that adorn the military temple.
by noon the action showed no further development. in the early afternoon i determined to advance my right, largely reinforced from the centre, which was now completely secure from attack. the movement was wholly successful, and the result coincided exactly with my prearranged plans. the enemy abandoned all this upper portion of the right bank of the tusco in the utmost confusion; his main body is therefore now in full retreat, and there is little doubt that over and above the decisive and probably final character of this success i shall be able to report in my next the capture of many prisoners, pieces, and stores. i[150] congratulate his majesty upon the conspicuous courage displayed in every rank, and recommend for distinguished service the 1847 names appended. his majesty’s government may take it that this action virtually ends the war. (ends.)
ii
from field-marshal the most illustrious the lord duke of rapello to the minister of war of the republic of utopia.
(begins) upon the morning of sunday, the 31st, in accordance with the plan which i had drawn up before leaving the capital, i advanced my right a little before dawn against the left of the imperial position, which was very strongly posted upon the edge of a precipitous cliff, one flank reposing upon an impassable gulf and the other on a deep and torrential river. the enemy resisted with the utmost stubbornness, but was eventually driven from his positions, though these were strongly entrenched after more than a week’s work with the spade. he abandoned the whole of his artillery. a great number of prisoners have fallen into my hands, and the loss of the enemy in killed alone must amount to many thousands. particulars will follow later, but i am justified in saying that the left wing of the enemy is totally destroyed. meanwhile, general mitza, most ably carrying out my instructions, contained[151] the enemy upon the centre without loss, save for one pom-pom and a maxim, which were shattered by a chance shell early in the action. the 145th also report the loss by burning of a waggon containing their colours, eighteen cans of tinned beef, and the missionaries’ travelling library. somewhat later in the day the enemy attempted to retrieve a hopeless position by advancing his right in great force. i had been informed of the movement (which was somewhat clumsily executed) in ample time, and withdrew the petty outposts i had thrown out for observation in his neighbourhood. there is little doubt that the enemy will now attempt to withdraw his main force along the line of the tusco valley, but a glance at the map will show that this retreat is closed to him by my occupation of the line x y (see annexed sketch map), and he is now virtually contained.
i congratulate the government of the republic upon the signal and decisive victory our troops have driven home, and i may confidently assure them that it is tantamount to the successful ending of the present campaign. appended is a list of officers recommended for distinguished service, which i have made as brief as possible, and which i particularly beg after so glorious a day may not be curtailed by political intrigues, of which i have already been compelled to complain. (ends.)
[152]
iii
extract from a leading article in one of the most reputable newspapers of the capital of patagonia upon monday the 1st.
“we have always maintained in these columns that his imperial majesty’s government was amply justified in undertaking the short, and now happily successful, campaign in which it was proposed to chastise the so-called ‘republic’ of utopia, whose chronic state of anarchy is a menace to the peace and prosperity of civilisation. it is a pleasure to be able to announce this morning what was already a foregone conclusion in the minds of all educated men. the enemy’s forces—if we may dignify them by that name—have been overwhelmed at the first contact, and it is now only a question of whether they will be utterly disorganised during retreat or will prefer to capitulate while some semblance of discipline remains to them. we must, however, implore public opinion to preserve at this juncture the calm, sane courage which is among the best traditions of our race, and we reiterate the absolute necessity of abstaining from any wild cat policy of annexation. it should be enough for us that the ‘republic’ of utopia will now exist in name only, and has ceased for ever to be a menace to its neighbours. a specially gratifying feature in the news before us is the skill and mastery displayed by the prince, whose[153] advanced years (we blush to remember it) had been the cause of so much secret criticism of his command.”
iv
extract from the leading article of the most popular journal of the utopian republic, same date.
“citizens, awake! all ye that kneel, arise! ares (the god of battles) has breathed upon the enemy, and he has been destroyed! the cowardly mercenaries who handle the gold of patagonia have broken and fled before our troops upon the very first occasion when their reputed valour was put to the test. the glorious and aged mitza has guaranteed that the next news will be that of their complete submission. it will then be for the government to decide whether our victorious lads should complete a triumphant march upon the patagonian capital or whether it may not be preferable to wring from that corrupt and moribund society such an indemnity as shall make them for ever impotent to disturb the frontiers of free men.”
v
extract from the note of the military expert of the aforesaid weighty and reputable journal of the capital of patagonia: a journalist.
“it is not easy to reconstruct from the fragmentary telegrams that have come through from the[154] front the tactical nature of the great and happily decisive victory upon the tusco which has just ended the campaign. so far as one can judge, his royal highness the commander-in-chief lay en biais, reposing his right upon the river itself and his left upon the ca?on of the encantado, his centre somewhat advanced ‘in gabion,’ his pivot points refused, and his right in double concave. upon a theory of ballistic and shock, which all those who have read his royal highness’s daring and novel book of thirty years ago, entitled ‘cavalry in the field,’ will remember, our corps artillery and reserve of horse were doubtless some miles in the rear of the firing line. the enemy, with an amazing ignorance of the elements of military knowledge, appear to have attacked the left of this position. it is an error to which we should hardly give credence were not the telegrams so clear and decisive on this point. the reader will immediately grasp the obvious result of such a piece of folly. his royal highness promptly refused en potence, wheeled his left centre round upon the eleventh brigade as a pivot, and supported this masterly move by the sudden and unexpected appearance of no less than thirty-six guns, the converging fire of which at once arrested the ill-fated and mad scheme of the enemy. the rest is easily told. our centre retaining its position, in spite of the burning zeal of the men to take part in the general advance, the right, which had not yet come into action, was thrown forward with a sudden,[155] sweeping movement, and behind its screen of cavalry debouched upon the open plateau which dominates the left bank of the tusco. after that all was over; the next news we shall have will certainly be the capitulation of our broken foe, unless, indeed, he prefer to be destroyed piecemeal in a scattered flight.”
vi
extract from the note of the military expert of the popular journal of utopia: formerly a sergeant in the commissariat department of the army.
“it is not easy to reconstruct from the fragmentary telegrams which have come through from the front the tactical nature of the great and happily decisive victory upon the tusco. some points are obvious. in the first place, it was ‘a soldiers’ battle.’ gallant old mitz (to whom all honour is due) drew up the line of battle, but the hard work was done by bill smith and tom jones, and the rest in the deadly trenches above the right bank. it seems probable that all the heaviest work was done on our right, and therefore against the enemy’s left, unless, indeed, the private telegram received by a contemporary be accurate, which would make out the heaviest work to have been on our left against the enemy’s right. the present writer has an intimate personal knowledge of the terrain, over every part[156] of which he rode during the man?uvres of five years ago. it is sandy in places, interspersed with damp, clayey bits; much of it is undulating, and no small part of it rocky. trees are scattered throughout the expanse of the now historic battlefield; their trunks afford excellent cover. the river tusco, as our readers will have observed, is the dominating feature of the quadrilateral, which it cuts en échelon. the patagonians boasted that though our army was acknowledgedly superior to their own, their commercial position would enable them to weary us out in the field. yes, i don’t think!”
vii
extract from a lecture delivered by a professor of military history one hundred years later, in the university of lima.
“among the minor factors of this complicated situation was the permanent quarrel between patagonia and utopia, and though it has been much neglected by historians, and is, indeed, but a detail upon the flank of the great struggle of the coalition, a few moments must be given to the abortive operations in the tusco valley. they appear to have been conducted without any grasp of the main rules of strategy, each party advancing in a more or less complete ignorance of the position of the other, their communications parallel, their rate of advance[157] deplorably slow, and neither possessing the information nor the initiative to strike at his opponent during a three-weeks’ march, at no point of which was either army so much as fifty miles from the other. these farcical three weeks ended in a sort of skirmish difficult to describe, and apparently confined to the extreme left of the patagonian forces. the utopians here effected some sort of confused advance, which was soon checked. at the other end of the line they retired before a partial movement of the enemy, effected without any apparent object, and certainly achieving no definite result. the total losses in killed and wounded were less than seven per cent of those engaged. the next day negotiations were entered into between the two generals; their weary discussion occupied a whole week, during which hostilities were suspended. the upshot of the whole thing was the retirement of the patagonian army under guarantees, and in consideration of the acceptation of the old frontier by the utopian government. politically the campaign is beneath notice, as both territories were absorbed six months after in the recasting of the map after the treaty of lima, and the policing of them handed over to the now all-conquering northern power. even as military history the operations deserve little more than passing notice, save, perhaps, as an example of the gross yet ever recurrent folly of placing numerically large commands in the hands of aged men. mitza, upon the occasion of this fiasco, was over seventy-five[158] years of age and long in his dotage, while the prince of the blood who had been chosen to lead (nominally, at least) the patagonian army was, apart from his increasing years, a notorious drunkard, and what is perhaps worse from a military point of view, daily subject to long and complete lapses of memory.”
[159]
a descendant of william shakespeare
it was during the early months of 1909 that i first became acquainted with a descendant of william shakespeare the great dramatist, who happened at that moment to be in london.
this gentleman (for he was of the male sex) was one of our american visitors, and was stopping at the carlton hotel. his name, as he assured me, charlemagne k. hopper. he resided, when he was at home, in the rapidly rising township of bismarckville, mo., where he added to a considerable private income the profits of an extensive corn business, dealing in wheat both white and red, and of both spring and autumn varieties, maize or indian corn, oats, rye, buckwheat of every variety, seed corn, and bearded barley; indeed, no kind of cereal was unfamiliar to this merchant. his quick eye for the market and the geniality of his character had (he convinced me) made him friends in every circle. he has the entrée to the most exclusive coteries of albany and buffalo, and he had that season been received by the patrons of literature in park lane, clarges street, and belgrave square.
mr. hopper’s descent from the bard of avon has been established but quite recently: these lines are[160] perhaps the first to lay it before the public, and the discovery is an excellent example of the way in which two apparently insignificant pieces of evidence may, in combination, suggest an historical discovery of capital importance.
it is, of course, common knowledge that lady barnard of abington was a lineal descendant of william shakespeare. she died (without issue, as was until recently supposed) at the end of the seventeenth century. but two almost simultaneous finds made in the early part of the present year have tended to modify the old-established conviction that this lady was the last descendant of the poet.
the first of these finds was made by mr. vesey, of the british museum, well known for his monograph on the family of barnard of abington. it consisted in a small diary or notebook belonging to the lady barnard in question, in which, among other entries, was the record of the payment of twenty guineas made to a “mrs. m.” just before christmas of the year 1678. mr. vesey published this document in pamphlet form at the beginning of march, 1908.
in the april number of cambridgeshire notes and queries major pepper, of bellevue villa, teversham (not far from the gog magog hills), published, as a matter of curiosity, a letter which he had purchased in a sale of mss., but only so published on the chance that it might have an interest for those who follow the history of the county. it was a[161] letter from one joan mandrell, the governess of anne hall, praying her correspondent to send “twenty guineas for the payment of rent.” the interest of this document to the students of local history lay in the fact that this anne hall was the ancestress of the pooke family. joan mandrell’s letter was addressed upon the back of the sheet, though the name of the addressee was no longer decipherable, but the letters “...bington hall” were, and are, clearly legible, as also the date. the letter further contains a minute description of anne hall’s return to london from a foreign school and of the writer’s devotion to the addressee, whom she treats throughout as mother of the young woman committed to her care. this anne hall later married henry pooke, whose son charles made his fortune in politics under walpole’s administration, founding the family and estate of understoke, which is so familiar to every cambridgeshire man.
more than one student noted the coincidence between these two publications appearing but a fortnight apart; and at the end of may a paper was already prepared to be read to the genealogical society showing that the lineage of the poet had been continued in the pookes.
so far the matter was of merely antiquarian interest, for charles pooke’s great grandson, general sir arthur pooke, had died in 1823 at understoke without issue. it was, however, of some importance to all those who care for the literary history of their[162] country to know that the blood of the poet could be traced so far.
just before the paper was read a further discovery came in to add a much greater and more living interest to the matter.
mr. cohen, a charming and cultivated genealogist, whose business is mainly with america and the colonies, had been for some months actively engaged for mr. hopper in tracing the arms of his, mr. hopper’s, maternal grandfather—a mr. pooke. when mr. cohen became acquainted with the facts mentioned above he cabled to mr. hopper, who sent by return of post copies of certain family documents which clearly proved that this mr. pooke was identical with a younger brother of sir arthur. this younger brother was an erratic and headstrong lad who had enlisted in early youth under cornwallis, and had been killed, as it was believed, at yorktown. he was as a fact wounded and made prisoner; he was not killed. he was released at the peace of 1783, preferred remaining in the new world to facing his creditors in the old, married the daughter of peter kymers, of orange, n.j., and soon afterwards went west. in 1840 his only daughter cassiopea, who was then keeping a small store in cincinnati, married the rev. mr. aesop hopper, a local minister of the hicksite persuasion. charlemagne k. hopper is the only issue of that marriage.
the genealogy stands thus:
[163]
[164]this family tree is now so well established that a full publication of the lineage, with a commentary upon the whole romantic story, is about to appear in one of the reviews from the pen of “thersites,” a pseudonym which, as many of our readers are aware, barely hides the identity of one of our best-known experts upon foreign affairs.[1]
mr. hopper did not remain in london beyond the close of the season. he had proposed to leave for biskra a week or so after i made his acquaintance, but the change in the weather decided him to go no farther south than palermo, whence he will return by naples, rome, assisi, genoa, and boulogne, visiting on the way the quaint old city of strasbourg. he will reach england again some time in the month of april, 1910, and on his return he proposes to devote some part of his considerable fortune to the erection of a suitable monument at stratford-on-avon in memory of his great ancestor. this generous gift will be accompanied by certain conditions, but there is little doubt that the town will accept the same, and that a fine fountain surrounded with symbolical figures of justice, prudence, and mercy, and adorned with medallions of queens elizabeth and victoria, george washington and president roosevelt, will soon adorn the quiet little warwickshire town.
mr. hopper also proposes to found a shakespeare[165] scholarship at sidney-sussex college in cambridge, and another at wadham college in oxford, each of the value of ￡300 a year, on the model of the rhodes scholarships, such scholarships to be granted not merely for book work but for business capacity and physical development. he has also planned a chair for the propagation of shakespearean knowledge in glasgow, and he will endow a reader in shakespeare to the university of aberdeen.
mr. hopper is himself no mean littérateur, though a characteristic modesty has hitherto restrained him from publishing his verse, whether rhyme, blank, or in sonnet form. it is possible that now he is acquainted with his great descent his reluctance may be overcome and he may think better of this decision. i may add that mr. hopper places no credence in the baconian theory, and hopes by diligent search among his family papers to prove the authenticity of at least the five major tragedies and a midsummer night’s dream.
mr. hopper is a total abstainer; he neither smokes nor chews; his religious views, always broad and tolerant, incline him strongly towards the new theology, and, in common with many other men of exceptional intelligence, he has been profoundly affected by the popular translation of dr. haeckel’s riddle of the universe.
though delighting in social intercourse, mr. hopper has the true gentleman’s instinct against being lionised, and in particular stands in dread of[166] the duchess of dundee. he has therefore begged me to insist as little as possible on his identity in anything i thought it my duty to record in print upon so interesting a matter, and i have so far acceded to his request as to have refrained from publishing these lines until he had left our shores; but i make little doubt that on his return in the spring this missing link between the two branches of the anglo-saxon kin cannot but receive the public recognition he deserves.
