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WTAF
Category: New Music
listening live just got easier
April 1, 2020 / program director
oh, those coders. whilst secluded from the COVID-19 they've been heads-down on tweaking and tuning the website and, by golly, ("by golly"??!?) they've gone and made listening live a bit easier and much less clunky.
now you can listen with just a single click – no more opening a new tab in your browser and staring at an ugly vendor-driven page!
we thought you'd like it.
June 28, 2019 / program director
Seems Windows Updates have borked the audio engine. We're working on it but that has effectively taken down both the OTA as well as streaming.
We'll keep you posted!
January 19, 2016 / music director
We've been tweaking behind the scenes to force more of the music library up into rotation more often. There's a lot in there – you should be hearing it! Feel free to let us know if you hear something you haven't heard in forever…
it's back – our annual 12 days of Christmas!
December 9, 2015 / program director
We begin our annual 12 Days of Christmas this year on December 13th adding just a splash now and there, here and there of Christmas music into the playlist.
We know you're sick of hearing non-stop Christmas music for months on end like some stations are playing. So we give you just a musical nudge, nothing more.
This all culminates in our annual "Music to Open Gifts By", six hours of non-stop Christmas tunes of all kinds from 6p to midnight Christmas Eve and again 6a to noon Christmas morning,
Dial us up and enjoy – and Merry Christmas from all of us to all of you this holiday season!
website improvements
March 22, 2015 / program director
We were told the complete rebuild of the website was going to be a ways off by the guys down in the marketing department (we have a marketing department?!)
Looks like their idea of a "ways off" wasn't quite the same as ours.
Old-n-busted has officially been replaced by the New-hotness. (sorry for the MIB reference… it seemed appropriate at the time.)
We'd love to hear your feedback.
Is it too much?
Not enough?
Who are we and why do we keep calling you here…?
new year new playlist? nah…
January 7, 2015 / music director
Uh oh, the staff was thinking again… With the holidays behind us we decided to make some minor improvements to the playlist. Relax, we're still commercial-free and will always be but now we've merged the Indie Rock Show into the main playlist meaning you'll hear it all the time rather than just on Saturday nights. Because of this we've done away with the Saturday night version.
We're thinking on some other things to tweak Cleveland's commercial-free rock station – stay tuned!
Scooped the poop
April 6, 2011 / music director
Yeah, it's nice when we can say things like "Buzzard Exclusive"…. how 'bout the new Foo Fighters album, the whole thing, in rotation. Thought you'd like that.
Eat that, competition. Oh.. wait… we have no competition!
February 6, 2011 / music director
What did we add? How's 'bout some SOUL COUGHING… some MOUNTAIN GOATS… and the phone number to the studios, too: 216/245-ROCK
Music adds 10/22/2010
October 22, 2010 / music director
Dug up some old IGGY POP for ya this week. Feelin' that LUST FOR LIFE…
October 5, 2010 / music director
New Weezer and Maroon 5 joined the playlist last week. Also stuff from My Son the Bum and The Pinker Tones.
the world outside
Twitter Suspends Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene's Account January 17, 2021
The Things I'll Miss Most On An Inauguration Day Unlike Any Other January 17, 2021
NASA's 8-Minute Rocket Test Shuts Down After 67 Seconds January 17, 2021
Police Arrest Man With Handgun, Woman Impersonating Officer Near D.C. Checkpoints January 17, 2021
Kremlin Critic Alexei Navalny Detained After Returning To Russia Following Poisoning January 17, 2021
Club Of 1-Term Presidents Awaits Its Reluctant New Member: Trump January 17, 2021
where's the stuff
woohoo!!
so a thing sorta happened…
we're ba-a-a-a-a-a-ck…!
843.779.WTAF (9823)
© 2021 WTAF


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Harvest Heats Up
Early crush due to warmer growing season
By David Bates
The crush of 2015 is on — although, by the time you read this, it may actually be history.
Prospects vary depending on the region and varietal, of course, but from the Columbia Gorge to Southern Oregon, "early" is the word this season, with crews harvesting vineyards as many as three weeks before the more-typical mid- to late-September crush.
Since we were enjoying strawberries before Memorial Day, it's hardly a surprise that Oregon's grape harvest, for many, started in late August.
Thanks to a hot summer, many varietals ripened two to three weeks early, an anomaly that — at least in the Pinot-rich Willamette Valley — last occurred in 1992, winemakers say.
For those who didn't irrigate during the drought, that may mean lighter clusters and lower juice yields in some cases, but for the most part, vineyard managers say a hot summer isn't necessarily bad for vintages.
In Yamhill County, 36-year veteran viticulturist Allen Holstein of Argyle Winery still has his hand-typed notes from 1992. That year, picking started Aug. 25 — almost the very date his crews started in August's final week this year, picking almost 500 linear miles of grapevine rows, spread across 300 acres in three different locations.
So how was the wine after the last comparable heat wave?
"Ninety-two turned out to be perfectly acceptable, as a matter of fact," Holstein said. "The wines held up over time better than some other vintages that were more flash-in-the pan. I always say that the best vintage is the one where the wine sells. If it doesn't, you hear about it."
Wine Enthusiast gave Oregon's 1992 wines a "very good" rating on its vintage list. Winemakers have honed their craft since then, as evidenced by vintages in "superb" territory in recent years and rave reviews for the 2014 vintage, also produced in above average temperatures.
"It's going hot and fast and compressed," said Columbia Gorge Winegrowers President Brian McCormick, whose Memaloose Wines produces 20 varietals on both sides of the Columbia River near Lyle. "It's a very dynamic year."
Erath Winery in Yamhill County was among those that had an early harvest, according to spokesman Ryan Pennington.
"I'm hearing that flavor development is occurring at relatively low sugar levels, which should contribute to beautifully complex wines with relatively modest alcohol levels," he said.
Chris Lake of the Southern Oregon Wine Institute said most of the larger vineyards in the warmer regions started early. But he adds that — because there are more than 150 microclimates south of Eugene — vineyards in cooler areas like Elkton and the Illinois River Valley didn't see grapes ripen until early September, meaning a late or even early October harvest.
"I would say that we are, on average, three weeks earlier than normal in ripening our grapes," said Lake. "Both volume and quality appear to be normal to above normal."
There are a few areas where Mother Nature knocked volume a notch. Some Ashland-area vineyards were damaged by hail in early July. And in the Gorge, wineries are still reeling from November's freak deep-freeze, when several unusually balmy days were followed by an overnight plummet into single digits.
"November was awful," said Rich Cushman of Viento Wines. "There's been a lot of damage to vines like Syrah, Tempranillo, sort of in the cooler part of the Gorge. My feeling is that those vines shouldn't have been planted here anyway. Riesling, Chardonnay, Pinot Gris and Pinot Noir came through pretty well."
And as Northwest winemakers and growers know well, the weather can turn suddenly.
But the long-term forecast by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration calls for "warmer than normal" conditions in the West, with the best odds for that outlook here in the Pacific Northwest. That prediction has winemakers and industry insiders discussing a repeat — or something very close to it — of 2014, a record-busting year the Oregon Wine Board boldly credits with producing "the vintage of a lifetime."
Such a grand sentiment would be a perfect way to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the first planting of Yamhill County's Pinot Noir grapes by David Lett in February 1965. He'd landed in Oregon after a search for the perfect place to plant the French variety.
Fifty years later, more than 17,000 acres of Pinot Noir blanket the north valley, and Oregon boasts a $3.3 billion wine industry.
Greg Jones, a Southern Oregon University climatologist who has spent decades studying the interaction between climate and viticulture, calls the early start definitely "unusual."
It is not, however, just a local event.
"This is not only happening here," he said. "The harvest last year in Australia was one of the earliest on record, and the harvest in Europe this year is considered to be one of the earliest on record. It's global in terms of wine harvests, the growing season being very warm, and the harvest being much earlier than normal."
That's not to say climate change means an August wine grape harvest is the new norm.
"It's too early to say that," says Viento's Cushman, a veteran of 35 Oregon vintages. "It kind of frightens me that it could be the new norm."
Even within the context of a warmer planet, variability at the local level can still be a factor, Jones cautions.
"Two years in a row of really early harvest doesn't make a new norm," he said. "However, if you look at the trend, it has slowly been to earlier and earlier harvest.
"Climate is still variable. It's still changing. So there could be years that push it back," Jones continued." I think we are trending to earlier, but I just think there is some variability still in the system."
Argyle's Holstein agrees.
"I don't deny man-induced climate change, but that's what it is, is change," he said. "It was four short years ago that we didn't finish harvest until Nov. 5. So I think we'll have variation. We'll have more in August, and we'll have more in November."
One thing is certain: No one contacted for this story expects to be harvesting grapes this November.
David Bates is a regular contributor for the News-Register and a freelance writer who lives in McMinnville.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Lions Are Animals – Tekno To Wizkid.
Finally, Superstar boy Tekno replies Wizkid of his tweet that he tweeted in the morning referring to Tekno as a duck.
Lions are animals! and humans don't fight… be your brothers keeper! RARA O #allloveonthisside.


AirportWatch | Under-taxed Aviation Industry wants to pay even less tax! It wants APD removed!
AirportWatch, a coalition of national environmental organizations and airport campaign groups, has argued that a report due out tomorrow, which will claim that Air Passenger Duty (APD) is hurting the economy, fails to address the reason for the tax.
The report from Oxford Economics, and commissioned by the World Travel & Tourism Council (WTTC), will claim that removing APD would result in an additional 91,000 British jobs being created and £4.2 billion added to the economy in 12 months.
AirportWatch has produced figures which show the extent to which the aviation industry is under-taxed. The exemption from fuel tax and VAT was worth more than £11 billion to the airlines. After deducting APD revenues of around £2.5 billion, the net benefit is around £8.5 billion – equivalent to a subsidy to the airlines of about £360 per household.
"3.16 The Government has been clear that APD is primarily a revenue-raising duty which makes an important contribution to the public finances, whilst also giving rise to secondary environmental benefits. Furthermore, VAT is not applied to flights and aviation fuel for commercial flights is not taxed".
Many motorists rely on their cars to travel to and from work or for their weekly shop but the vast majority of flights are for leisure purposes and, despite the advent of so-called 'cheap flights', air travel is increasingly becoming the preserve of an affluent minority. Fewer than half the UK population took any flights at all in 2010 and those who did had average household income in excess of £50,000. (4) .
1. A copy of the AirportWatch letter to the Chancellor is below.
2. In 2010/11 the exemption from fuel tax and VAT was worth more than £11 billion to the airlines. After deducting APD revenues, the net benefit is around £9 billion – equivalent to a subsidy to the airlines of about £360 per household. Even the 53% of the UK population who do not fly – mainly the less affluent – find themselves subsidising the aviation industry.
3. APD for economy short haul flights applied at a rate of £10 per passenger from 1997 until 2001 when it was halved to £5.00. The £10 rate was restored in 2007, increased to £11 in 2009 and to £12 in 2010. In 2010/11, 77% of all passengers paid the lowest (£12) rate.
4. Actual figure = £50,139. Source: CAA 2010 Passenger Survey, Table 14.
AirportWatch is an umbrella organisation uniting the national environmental organisations, airport community groups and individuals opposed to unsustainable aviation expansion and its damaging environmental effects, including climate change.
We are aware of the lobbying pressure being applied to you by the aviation industry to reduce Air Passenger Duty ('APD') and we herewith set out some of the counter arguments.
APD would need to be quadrupled to compensate for the fuel duty and VAT exemptions enjoyed by the aviation industry. And whilst motorists complain about swingeing year on year increases in the cost of filling up at the pump, the vast majority of airline passengers still pay APD at its lowest rate of £12, just £2 more than it was in 1997.
Many motorists, particularly in rural areas, rely on their cars to travel to and from work or for their weekly shop but the vast majority of airline flights are for leisure purposes, increasingly the preserve of an affluent minority despite the advent of so-called 'cheap flights'. Fewer than half the UK population took any flights at all in 2010 and those who did had average household income in excess of £50,000. In short we believe that the aviation industry has very little to complain about, especially in these difficult economic times.
We would also ask you to examine the economic evidence relating to the price of air travel and the balance between inward and outward tourism. This evidence clearly indicates that increasing the price of air travel has a significant dampening effect on outward tourism but very little effect on inward tourism to the UK, thus making a positive contribution to jobs, economic growth and the UK trade balance.
In conclusion, we are confident that any proper review of the evidence will clearly indicate that there is a compelling case for a substantial increase in APD on the grounds of fiscal equity and fairness. Increasing APD would also contribute towards the deficit reduction plan and to UK employment, investment and economic growth.
All UK regions except London run a substantial economic deficit as a result of aviation-based tourism.
"The Expansion of Regional Airports – Really a good thing?" (September 2009, AirportWatch) showed that the tourism deficit loses local economies billions due to the export of UK citizens to holiday abroad.
Link: The Expansion of Regional Airports and one page summary.
playing field for British tourism by adding VAT to air travel.
of growth potential for the tourism industry.
to secure the much hyped tourism legacy.
to attract new attractions and better marketing.
of seaside hotels to 20 by 2010.
Budget airlines are "squeezing the life out of British tourism" and the government is exacerbating the problem by promoting expansion of the aviation industry, MPs were told yesterday.
Budget hotel chain Travelodge accused Ryanair and easyJet of driving an £18bn "tourism deficit" by drawing British holidaymakers away from Britain with low fares underpinned by state tax breaks.
In a hearing at the House of Commons select committee into tourism, Travelodge said inward tourism spending had declined by 16% between 1995 and 2002 while spending by British tourists abroad had climbed by nearly 50%. Greg Dawson, Travelodge director of communications, said no-frills carriers were "the single biggest cause of decline in traditional tourism resorts and we urge the inquiry and government to investigate the airline's unfair grip on holidaymakers that is squeezing the life out of British tourism".
Travelodge said airlines received an unfair advantage from the government because they do not pay VAT on international ticket sales. It estimated that a 10% reduction in overseas flights by British holidaymakers over the next 10 years would create 31,250 jobs and generate £1bn for regional tourism. The firm is attempting to break into the British tourism market by opening 20 seaside hotels by 2010.
EasyJet said the Travelodge complaint was "bizarre". Toby Nicol, easyJet's communications director, said bed and breakfast owners would probably make similar accusations against Travelodge.
In an interview on Radio 4 Today programme on 3.1.2012 a spokesperson from easyJet said fares were likely to rise by an "insignificant" amount, of 30 – 50p per ticket due to the inclusion of aviation into the EU ETS.
Posted: Sunday, March 11th, 2012. Filed in General News, Recent News.


Ready for some astonishingly innovative chalkboard ideas? I know this has been a popular trend for some time now, yet I truly love it and can't help but round up all the ingenious ones I find, especially ones that help me get organized.
Chalkboard paint has come a long way, and I'm sure it's here to stay. It's now used on furniture, some high-end kitchens, walls, and for keeping your life organized. It's so versatile and easy since you can paint it on nearly any surface you like. Then, you can get creative with it and erase quickly. Sounds fun, right? Here are my favorite clever DIY chalkboard ideas to help you get organized!
I'm always looking for crafts to get me my time and money's worth! I guarantee you these cool chalkboard clips did just that. You can easily organize your kid's schoolwork, important papers like bills, or anything you can think of with these cute and versatile DIY clips!
Chalkboard labels make it fun to get foods organized in our kitchen counter. No more mix-ups with your food canisters ever again.
Tired of keeping track of so many items in your laundry room or basement? You'll like this chalkboard storage idea. It lets you know where you put what, making you work faster with ease and convenience.
If you love cooking, this is the kind of organization project that will make you fall in love with it even more. Start leveling up your spice drawer with a little organization using baby food jars and chalkboard paint.
Make your own DIY chalkboard and key hooks and place it in your kitchen or anywhere you're comfortable to put it. The chalkboard is perfect for keeping reminders, the shelves can house your precious knick-knacks or hold your mail. Key hooks, of course, to hold your keys where you can easily find them.
Keep track of your pantry supplies and everything inside your refrigerator. You can also take note of the week's meal ideas or menu in this chalkboard fridge! Cool, huh?
Adding labels to the drawers add a bit of eclectic detail that makes a piece a whole. These chalkboard drawers are ideal for labeling office items since you can easily change what's written on it.
Organize party foods the cool way! This chalkboard table runner will allow you to simply write names and add arrows to add a casual and rustic look to your table setting. And the best part? You can erase what you've written and reuse this for future events.
Get the whole family excited for the week's menu! Announce it in a chic handcrafted chalkboard menu housed in an attractive frame making it a standout in your home decor.
Kick up boring dressers up a notch with chalkboard paint for kids of all ages to get organized. Love the pop of red colored chalkboard paint! Well, you can have it your way, and go big with your favorite color.
Keep your supplies in one place — pins, keys, and other small items. They are easily seen and identified in jars with chalkboard labels and they make a pretty display, too.
Keep track of your appointments and errands in this cute DIY chalkboard calendar. Easy to make and easy to update, clever and cool!
Post your family's favorite recipes where they can all see. This cool DIY chalkboard wall can also act as grocery must-buy or any special reminder for every member of the family.
Gardening becomes more fun and organized at the same with these cute DIY chalkboard markers. Make sure not to let these beauties catch some rain, I suggest having this in your greenhouse.
With this cute reclaimed lumber turned chalkboard, kids have no more excuses when it comes to their chores! At an early age, they'll learn the fun way of getting things organized.
Want a great hostess gift? How about these chalkboard coasters? You can play tic-tac-toe in between sips of your favorite drink.
Feel like a star and stress no more! These days of the week clothing dividers will help you prep your week-long wardrobe the chic way.
Wow! That's a ton of amazing ideas! And there's so much more that crop up every day! But, hopefully, these DIY ideas ignite some inspiration to get started with your next fun DIY weekend! Happy crafting!
Which DIY chalkboard ideas you found very useful for your home? Let us know in the comments below.
Editor's Note – This post was originally published in February 2015 and has been updated for quality and relevancy.
Clever ideas! 8 and 13 are my favorites!
We're glad that you love our post, Jayne! Thanks!


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Around the World in 384 Days
'The Journal of Victor Emmanuel Smyth, made on a Voyage to Australia'
Ever since I found a battered typescript in my parents' house, about a decade back, at this time of year my thoughts quite often turn to Victor Emmanuel Smyth (1856-1947), the younger brother of my great-great-grandfather, who in 1875, set out on what was essentially an all-expenses-paid gap year around the world, in the company of two of his 15 siblings(!), Geraldine and Julian, just four years after Phileas Fogg had 'done' it.
An Irishman of comfortably (upper?-)middle-class status (the family owned a tony grocery at No.7 (St) Stephen's Green, Dublin), Victor Emmanuel had no idea why he 'was called after the gallant king of Italy,' but he had been to schools in France, Switzerland and Germany as well as Ireland (perhaps as a result of his mother's early death, and his father's relatively-quick remarriage), and come out clearly educated, if not excessively bookish (he mentions reading once or twice, but with few direct literary references: I get the sense he might have been familiar with Fielding, or Thackeray).
At any rate, he had a fully-functioning – one might say noticeably Anglo-Irish – sense of humour, and, buoyed along, sure enough, by the benefits of race, class and money, appears to approach the world with an anecdotally informed and not at all incurious attitude. With good cheer, snatches of insight, and no more flippancy than one might justifiably expect from a 19-year-old, he commits facts and figures, puns and criticisms to his daily diary of derring-do (good Type 2 fun, at least), storm-tossed (and boredom-ravaged) ocean voyages, an almost literally-never-ending procession of church services (of which much more later), and a disconcerting focus on insane asylums… I merely mention now that only two of them returned – for reasons that, I hope, are still not clear to me.
His 'Journal', no doubt, was never meant for public (or even familial?) readership, so there may well be much that Victor left out – as well, of course, as things we might wish were not there.
Neither an anthropologist (even by the Victorians' deeply questionable standards), nor, I feel, egregiously judgemental as an individual, it's only right to acknowledge that VES was also no more and no less than a man of his time, and his journal uses several terms for people of non-European origin that, while not being concertedly unpleasant in intent – one survey ends, 'the white men just as bad' – would nevertheless not meet our contemporary standards.
On the more personal level, his 'Journal' refers to the wandering trio as (among other nicknames) 'the Exiles of Erin'; but if they were in any sense 'sent away' on business there is not one overt mention of it. Unhelpfully (for me), he does not spell out who all their friends and/or relations are. Indeed, he doesn't always get his spellings right at all (at one point noting, reasonably, that trying to jot things down while on a tram, e.g., can be troublesome). Other things – the Kent and Sister Islands? – may just have changed their names since then.
Still: if his adventures don't quite warrant medals at the Royal Geographical Society (he seems to have taken most things in his jaunty stride, after all), his trip remains a nonetheless amped-up and enviable Grand Tour for the late-industrial era – and, thanks to his neatly-written 208-page 'Journal', a highly-colourful snapshot of a whole range of famous destinations in an age and state we can no longer easily imagine now.
The voyage had an inauspicious start, when, departing from Kent on Thursday 4th November, 'in the good barque The True Briton' (Capt. George M. Miller; 47 passengers on board), their ship was instantly becalmed for a full fortnight. 'Quite weak and painfully thin from want of food,' Victor wrote – jokingly? – somewhere off Dover. One woman disembarked at Plymouth and lost her 'passage money', Victor seizing this opportunity to buy four more bottles of sherry.
But by the 18th they were 'off at last, weather beautiful and coast scenery very pretty. Men of war firing salutes as I pass.' And then on the 19th: 'Wind high. Sea rough and ship going backwards. Very sick. Got up for half an hour and then retired for rest of day.'
Now, though, they were well out to sea – a few hundred miles of the coast of Brazil, specifically – getting used to the routine and their fellow passengers, struggling with the increasing heat as they approached the equator, spotting other ships and, if they were very lucky, exchanging a few visitors. 'Landlubbers can have but little idea how much we enjoyed those few hours.'
Gales had been endured, and shipmates told off for getting drunk. Stewards fought ('Henry got the worst of it, his face was seen to great advantage next day'). On the 23rd a chicken died ('flag half mast!'), and in December they 'got lime juice for the first time, which we all thought delicious.'
The endless sweltering days left him with plenty of time to hone his chirpy aperçus ('Got a sight of Madeira in the glass. Oh!' 'Ship on weather bow (wow!). A barque?'); which is not to say, if pushed, he wasn't capable of insight, perhaps even a little poetry:
Oh, if half the artists going could only see such a scene as I haven't endeavoured to describe I think they would rush at once to their studios and tearing the painted canvas from the easel fling it into the fire where they could view in the flames thus caused a much nearer approach to the representation of a 'tropical sunset' than their lifelong application could ever have carried them!
Come the first payday they were treated to 'the drowning of the dead horse', a 'remarkable' celebration in which a stuffed canvas animal was tended to by 'a quack vet', then hoisted to the yard arm with a rider on its back, 'the sailors chanting in chorus "Whisky for my Johnny,"' before the luckless horse was dropped into the sea, and the hat passed round for 'largesse'. 'The actors in this strange tragedy seem to enjoy it very much, a good deal more than the audience.'
Through mid-December they had Brazil, to their West/starboard.
25th December XMAS DAY: Quiet day. Sea rougher than necessary; champagne 'a discretion' at dinner with goose and pork – I mean turkey and roast beef. Geraldine got an Xmas card from Mr. Simpson (miniature painting of ship). Third class passengers got fresh meat for first time. Sailors had sack races etc. Singing in the evening.
The night before, there'd been a gale, which sprung the 'fore top quarter mast'. The following day, the voyagers would see the Southern Cross for the first time.
New Year came and went – Victor spending the day writing 'programmes for Monday's theatricals to sell at 6d each for the Seaman's Merchant Orphan Asylum box in the saloon' – and on the 3rd of January,
Had theatricals and miscellaneous entertainment on deck in the evening. The stage was formed of awning and sails lined with flags and carpets out of our cabins on the floor. The piece we played was 'Advertising for a Wife' and went off very well, about 90 souls witnessed the affair. I took the part of John.
The next night, 'I dressed in female's clothes and caused amusement.'
The rest of the time was spent mending watches (VES was obviously a mechanically-minded sort of bloke), cutting one another's hair, watching out for wildlife (on whales: 'they have a blow hole in their backs and blow up a lot of water and air, making nearly as much noise as a locomotive'), exchanging handicrafts, and singing, most often on the part of Geraldine. They did not pass the Cape (400 miles to their North) until mid-January.
Capt. Miller clearly understood the social constraints of the voyage, and did his best to keep the gentlefolk entertained (the Smyths travelled first class wherever possible), with lessons in how to catch an albatross (the trick is pork, apparently), anecdotes about passengers dying on ship and having to be pickled in vinegar-filled coffins, and physics tricks involving corks in bottles.
As for the other classes, though:
31st January: Steerage passengers had a concert in their own cabin. Some of us gents [NB] went for a change, it was a bit common. After the entertainment, there was a row and the Captain sent third officer Mr. Tracey to put them all to bed.
On 14th February, 'nearly everyone' got Valentine's cards. But perhaps, not unforgivably, the social scene was by now more than a little stale.
On Wednesday 16th February, 104 days since leaving London, they finally passed into Port Philip Bay, the Melbourne harbour.
The 'Warhawk' alongside, early with pilot and newspapers. We took a good look at the new men on the tug not having seen strange faces for almost three months.
Melbourne had been the first and foremost destination of the trip, and VES, Geraldine and Julian spent the next four months visiting friends and relations, enjoying galleries and public spaces, touring municipal facilities like hospitals, prisons, mints, water works and lunatic asylums, and generally leaving their cards any- and everywhere they thought looked interesting.
They learned to 'use insect powder at lib on our beds, we're in the Colonies!'; travelled to places with names from Emu Creek to Sandhurst (Bendigo); visited several vineyards ('Geraldine unwell, too many grapes!'); and at one point nearly got a seat – so to speak – in the General Assembly, 'but owing to the crowd we were disappointed.'
On 16th March, Victor descended the Pandora Gold Mine, 'and wept when I thought how "sinful man" goes to the trouble of digging up the root of all evil from 800 or 900 ft under the earth!' They were in the 'outback' to see some cousins, and spent the time riding, exploring the flora and fauna ('Passion fruit 1/- a dozen. Something like an egg and very nice flavour'; 'nervous about sharks which gobble up men and horses when they get at them'), decapitating domestic fowls ('Lady Jane Grey – nothing to it!'), and dealing with the heat: 'Hottest day here these 15 years… 112º in the shade!'
Young Victor had a handy line in hotel criticism – 'There is a moist feeling about everything especially the bedclothes' – and I imagine he would have had a lot of fun on Tripadvisor, and/or on social media generally.
His main 'thing', though, was for religious services. Granted there was no Netflix to binge one's way through; but he went to them absolutely everywhere, routinely more than once in any Sunday and often to diverse denominations. On one occasion, he didn't know what kind of church he was in, until a reference to 'Dutch guns and omelettes' somehow let on that it was Unitarian. On another, he heard the same sermon twice within a single day. Of the Wesleyan (his?) church on Brunswick St, Melbourne, he notes: 'seats terribly hard, found great relief in padding my country seat with sundry garments (don't tell!).'
They even wandered uninvited into 'the Chinese Joss House' – "Pon my word, the place banged Banagher and no mistake' – and through there into a 'Chinese place of worship,' decked out with 'inscriptions in the celestial tongue' and 'a painting of a chinaman glittering with gold who …we put down as some great gun, maybe a canon of their church.' They then committed some infraction and were thrown out.
He sometimes exhibited a slightly inept streak that wouldn't have been out of place in Three Men in a Boat. When lent a gun by a friend of a friend, and asked to take care of it, he promptly lost the ramrod ('which was loose'); and upon visiting 'the chemists to buy laudanum for my ear… leaning on a counterpane of glass which had been cemented it collapsed. Chemist wouldn't take compensation.'
But otherwise Victor exuded all the automatic confidence of a young man from the Empire's second city, from passing judgement on Canterbury Park – 'a newly laid out public garden, also the lending library. Saw nothing new at either place, although everything was new' – to being sniffy about the local brass band scene: 'the music here is as a rule very barbarous.'
In Melbourne, Victor and 'Ger' got themselves 'phrenologised' – and while this was doubtless just done on a lark (even Queen Victoria apparently had her own phrenologist), on 17th March, they 'bade Julian and our kind relatives farewell…' and here their brother drops out of the record. A cousin tells me that he died in Melbourne (in 1887?), and may not have been – in the precise words of one older relative – 'all there'. I find myself strongly hoping this was not the unadvertised purpose of the voyage. But then it might explain Victor's repeated interest in a certain brand of institution.
In early April Victor and Geraldine (plus others; they were always picking up travelling companions of one sort or another), took a week's side trip across to Tasmania, landing at Launceston and getting a coach 120 miles south – '13 stops in all, with romantic names such as Jericho, Jerusalem and Baghdad. Driver screwed all the time…' – to Hobart. They missed out on meeting the aboriginal 'Queen' Truganini ('she kicked the bucket a fortnight later'), and on the boat back to Melbourne 'a certain ecclesiastic named Shaun fell into bacchanal snares which got the better of him.'
Back in Melbourne, they found much of their stuff had been pinched from the Seymours' shed/warehouse. And on 21st April they watched some sort of Labour Day parade, then went to a depressing cricket match 'between so called Aboriginals (only half castes) and the South Melbourne Cricket Club. The darkies, who seemed to be all drunk, lost the game and although the Governor Sir George Bowen honoured the players with his presence, the greatest indifference was displayed on both sides.'
Victor had close shaves with quite a lot of royalty, in fact, as he recounts in one of his more-spectacular entries:
15th May: Went over the female portion of the Kew Lunatic Asylum which is a fine building and contains over 400 imbeciles. One woman followed me with a jam crock which made me somewhat uneasy, another imagined herself Queen of somewhere, a Mrs. Trotter had to be kept in a yard by herself with a straightjacket on, when we saw her she was singing 'Tom Finnegan's Wake'. One old crone abused us right and left for coming on her washing day, another was making neckties with great rapidity and taste out of her flannel petticoat and one suffering from a religious mania was very violent, preaching sermons without texts and had to wear great leather flappers on her head with which she made a terrible row. About as sad a sight as we witnessed were 3 little idiots in a nursery sitting in chairs quite helplessly.
At this point I remind myself that 'Finnegan' would have rung a rather different bell to book-learned types born and brought up before the emergence of that other peripatetic Dubliner, James Joyce. Ditto, that VES travelled a world which as yet knew nothing of even the Boer War (either of them), let alone the two world wars to come. Victor himself – it seems extraordinary – would live to see all of these.
Meanwhile, he celebrated his 20th birthday (on the 20th May) with a visit to the synagogue: 'the girls had to go to the gallery. All the men down to the Rabbi kept their hats on and most had towels thrown across their shoulders. There did not appear to me to be much solemnity in the service. We went to the St Francis R C Church after.'
And four days later, the local armed forces celebrated Queen Victoria's birthday ('a general holiday here, all shops closed') with a 'review at the Albert Park in the afternoon and sham fight between guard ships in the bay and shore batteries.'
On 6th June the already substantial trip kicked itself up a gear. 'We have decided upon going to New Zealand at once and thence home by the Overland Route across America.'
They said their various goodbyes, changed their money – Geraldine carrying £100 in gold in a bag under her dress – and boarded the Alhambra. Waved off at the docks by a dozen or so friends and family, Victor wrote, 'I know of nothing more unpleasant than seeing friends off in the rain especially if at the time one is fighting with the emotions.'
Another rough crossing gave him more time and scope for character assassination, not least of a 'Mrs Ching… who is passionately fond of the song the 'Ten Little N***** Boys' [asterisks mine] when it is well sung' (lots to unpack, there!), the flirty Miss Dowling from Melbourne, and 'a maiden with a superabundance of brain to whom the cook presents apples when she is sick.'
19th June: Hove to outside Hokitika at 5.30pm, fired the cannon, sent up a rocket and burnt a blue light, all of these signs intending to convey to those on shore that we should feel obliged by their sending out the tug to take us ashore, but their answer was 'wait until morning'.
The Captain 'stood' a customary supper of hot potatoes and red herrings and stout at 9 o'clock which if we did not enjoy as a repast we did as a novelty.
Their experience of the frontier-ish gold-mining town of Hokitika will ring bells with anyone who's ploughed through Eleanor Catton's The Luminaries; but they had missed the rush. Though there was some listless, small-scale sluicing still going on in various parts,
There are only 2 streets running at right angles, the one facing the river at the back, the other facing the sea, the houses without exception are wood. Bricks I'm told cost 3d each. The immediate surroundings of the town are swamps with old drains, stumps of trees, broken fences and lots of ferns. As it happens, for a wonder to be a fine day (it rains daily as a rule here but never snows), Mr. H. took us out for a ride. We first visited the deserted diggings of the Stan [illegible] with its water race said to be 14 miles in length and on to Kaneiri (pronounced Canary), a mining village on the river's bank.
Figs could be got for 2/-, oranges for 6/-, while the services of a washerwoman for the day would set you back 10/-. Watch-cleaning (a subject close to Victor's tinkering heart) cost 20/-. 'They have no coppers here and small silver coins are scarce, postage stamps are generally given as change'; and he was startled to find a 10-word telegram back to Australia was 10/6, 'address and name of sender counting as words'. But on the plus side, Hokitika 'boasts of a very fine gas works', and the down-at-heel feel of the place did not preclude 'a hired piano' arriving, so that Miss Smyth could sing. 'The Owl and the Pussycat was encored 3 times!'
The next day they went to visit 'a Maori hamlet', and 'unwisely all at the same time' crossing a temporary bridge over a little creek, 'the bridge gave way and we came down a distance of 6 or 7 feet into a little stream below. Fortunately no-one was hurt…'
Another visit to a Maori village proved more profitable. They toured the school – where 'they read English, pointed out places on the atlas and can write, all in a way European[s] would not be ashamed of' – and noted that the Maoris seemed well off (specifically from land rents) and were represented in Parliament. They also visited the 'runanga' or council chamber:
in one corner is a table with a cloth, handbell and some prayer books in Maori upon it, and in the centre of the room is an iron bar, upon which during debates they hinge a wooden figure about 40 inches in height in such a manner that it can be turned towards any speaker in the rooms. This is the Chairman and any remarks will please be addressed to him! On his head was a kind of wig with some white feathers stuck in it, an apron of sheepskin with the hairy side in and a pair of soiled balbriggans hanging about his ankles was all the clothing he wore. The body was painted brown and carved all over to resemble tattooing. A round hole in his breadbasket to receive the handle of a hatchet and I presume to command respect for the ruling of the Chair.
Staying with some step-cousins, Victor was set to chasing errant donkeys, clearing huge tree stumps from the section behind the house ('a very healthy occupation, it is but unprofitable, as after many days labour I left the stumps very much as I found them'), and dressing up as a woman (again) to amuse the children. On the 26th he attended 'a lecture on Shakespeare in aid of the Literary Society', which was 'not much'; and on the 30th 'Mrs. Tabart sent in 5 caw caws (a sort of mongrel parrot) for eating.'
On 1st July, he and Mr Hardcastle went out shooting. 'We got separated on arrival in the wood, and remained so all day' to the considerable anxiety of his hosts. 'Became pretty well acquainted with New Zealand vegetation this day if not with its game.' The 5th was an especially big day: 'Got up, remained so, and then went to bed.'
Ever interested in the technical/commercial side of things, Victor was not blind to the aggressive deforestation, and other inevitable eco-effects.
In one place, there was a great hole dug about 50' deep at the bottom of which was a tunnel for carrying off the water and earth and through which the hose was brought which conveys the water used in the washing. The sides of this chasm are blown in with gunpowder as required. I was told this undertaking had already cost £1400 and as yet no gold had been found. In another direction, we saw a small hill nearly washed away. This work is playing old Harry with the land as in once place one sees but a vast heap of stones and in another lower level nothing but mud.
In late July they steamered up to Nelson, and thence to Auckland, where, the Albert Hotel being full, 'we had to content ourselves with rooms in the very horrid Star Hotel'. The 'household odour' was terrible, they draped their handkerchiefs over the pillows, and the next night 'our landlord threatened to cast a plate of hot soup at his mother in law'. A couple of days later, a Mrs. Moss showed him some pictures of Fijians, including 'a Fiji pillow of bamboo (drawing) after which I did not mind the soiled pillow covers so much.'
They bought and/or were given souvenirs ('it seems the rule here to show kindness on every possible occasion'), and on the evening of the 1st August boarded the City of New York ('a fine steamer but … by no means a comfortable passenger vessel'): 'We spent the time up to 11.15pm in the 'Social Hall' or deck saloon in which there is a piano which was for a considerable time manipulated by a young man who laboured under a false impression with regard to his musical talents.'
The ship had Fire Brigade exercise at 3 o'clock sharp, in which the firemen (all 'chinamen', apparently) 'performed with commendable alacrity'. After this, the stewards ('all West Indian half bloods') 'underwent an examination before the captain … having to take off boots and stockings'. And every morning all the cabins were inspected 'on sanitary grounds I believe' – which sounds suspiciously as though they thought someone (of whatever standing or ethnicity) might use the cover of the fire drills to purloin things.
On 6th August they stopped at Kandavu in Fiji, to meet the Sydney boat.
Our ship was very soon surrounded by a fleet of boats manned by natives with green coconuts, green lemons, oranges and bananas for sale. These are a jolly looking lots of fellows, generally in prime condition, which we were in a good position to judge of as they do not strictly adhere to our idea of fashion as far as clothing goes, one man had a sheet partly thrown over him and a small red shell tied by a string around the neck completed his outfit. Their hair is naturally black and grows long and very dense, but they shave it off and plaster the head with lime, the aftercrop turns out of a reddish hue. No accounting for taste, even here!
Here 'our small party is now increased by an Opera Company… who set us all an example in honesty, sobriety and quiet demeanour, etc.' (this must be irony. I have met opera singers.) – as well as a couple of travelling preachers, one of whom, needless to say, 'we heard lecture in Melbourne and were recognised at once.' Victor particularly liked the Rev Charles Clark: 'He said it is all fudge for parsons to be telling people not to be thinking so much about making money, they are only too glad to get it themselves when they can.'
The following day was once again the 6th of August,
and a Sunday also. By some stratagems in navigation we have gained 24 hours. This is I believe owing to our passing from the east to the west longitude. It has put us out very much but the mate says tomorrow we shall have a change which is a consolation as when one is not used to it it is very monotonous being forever on 6th August 1876. Wonder how the Fijians can stand it.
Although in NZ he'd been briefly puzzled as to how a telegram would arrive in Melbourne 'earlier' than it left Hokitika, crossing the date-line he was plainly unperplexed, unlike P. Fogg, whose whole bet (ludicrously) almost came unstuck over this issue. The change of company proved tricky, though: 'There are a great number of Smiths on board; my neighbour at meals is a Smith and when he ventures a remark it's hard to know which of us he is addressing.'
Smith, Smyth or otherwise, all were seasick as they sailed northeast through the Pacific, and it got hot again as they passed Tonga heading back to the equator. They bathed (briefly) in lukewarm sea water, the ladies slept on mattresses in the social hall, and Victor's sealing wax stuck to everything in his (desk) drawers. There were immense cockroaches in 'the "Inferno" that is the baggage room.' Geraldine did not so much enjoy playing the diva in front of 'the profession', and they discovered that while they had originally found bananas tremendously exotic, 'now that we get them daily we don't care for them.'
16th August: At 8:30am, we found ourselves at Honolulu, Sandwich Islands [Hawaii, now]. The town is very like a French rural town, the dress of the native male Sandwiches certainly helps to give it that appearance [as] they are all attired in blue blouses and trousers. The women wear one all sufficient garment, a dressing gown extending from the neck to the heels. Some of them had wreaths of lovely flowers on their heads just like Jupiter.
They exchanged money, posted letters, bought fruit (incl. 'a water melon as big as a Baby and 12 pints of orange cider to wash the other things down'), were driven in buggies to the Pass – 'where once upon a time a fierce and sanguinary battle took place ending in a complete triumph for the victors who hurled their antagonists down a steep cliff' – and went to theatre to here the Rev Clark lecture on the Tower of London: 'the audience was very meagre, the Rev lecturer did not exert himself in consequence.' They also considered dropping in on the Queen [Emma Kalanikaumaka'amano Kaleleon?lani Na'ea Rooke, since you're asking] in her palace, 'but the others backed out of it, not having their cards with them.'
On the whole, Victor concluded, and notwithstanding the mosquitoes ('poor little Beatrice Johnson appeared in the morning with a face like an ill used batter pudding), 'this place is a perfect Paradise'. 'We lose 6 gents and 1 lady here who are so delighted with the place that they are going to remain a month till the next mail is passing.'
Back at sea there was more church, more fire practice, and a full-blown concert – complete with opera singers – which raised £22.5.0 for the Orphan Asylum at San Francisco. 'Ger who couldn't get out of it sang 'Evangeline' in good style.' But 'the Rev Chas Clark played the fool and got called to order by Mrs Davenport whereupon he went below ashamed of himself.'
On August 25th they sighted the mist-draped Californian coast, where Victor 'failed to observe the beauty of the "Gate" or to see the "Gold".' He wasn't that much more excited by the hotel/railroad touts all round the wharves, the San Francisco 'customers' (customs officials), or the coachman who parked 'several cwt of luggage' on or about our his neck and backbone.
He was, however, impressed by the 2000-room Palace Hotel ('the largest in the world I suppose'), the First Congregational Church ('the prettiest and most comfortable church I was ever in', and with paid singers), and the cost and quality of the Chinese laundries (America particularly lent itself to Victor's thirst for industrial-type facts and figures). All the same, he concluded, 'there is very little to be seen in Frisco,' and 'with tact the City could be done in a day.'
Speaking of tact, he notes 'the young ladies [I am assuming he means prostitutes] are very much "got up" and pain profusely.' He also finds the American 'very fond of sweets and ice creams', and the Frisco bankers 'rather smart'. I can't tell if he means sharp business practices, because he then goes on to praise the quality of leather goods, buying 'a portmanteau for $16 and the nicest pair of boots I ever wore, ready made for $8 = 32/-.
They 'went over the Mint' (natch) – where 'our guide said each coin is weighed 13 times' – toured a Mechanics Fair and Woodwards Gardens (aquarium/zoo/botanical), and made a day trip to a dusty San Jose '(San O-za)'. On their return that night,
A very considerable fire broke out in the city at 11pm. Of course I ran out to see it at once and met Mr. Johnson at the door going on the same errand. We remained at the scene till 2.30am when the Brigade had to the mastery. A whole block consisting of 80 wooden houses and the German Hospital were destroyed. The 60 patients who were in the latter building at the time of the outbreak were removed to a place of safety. There was great danger for some time of the fire spreading owing to the wind but fortunately the breeze fell at 3 o/c and the fire got under. I counted 12 fire engines at the scene, one fireman was killed, the damage being estimated at from 600,000 to 1 million dollars.
Checking in at 'an ugly Post Office' (wherein the counters were segregated by gender), they found a 'letter from Father who wishes us to see Yosemite where we has not intended going.' Still, Father was paying for everything, so they bought their tickets ($106 for 2), despatched their trunks halfway across the continent, and rather grudgingly set off on what was, to be fair, a long and grimy dogleg via train and coach.
Whether reasonably or otherwise, Victor contrived to be quite unimpressed here also.
1st September: The great feature of the Yosemite is the various waterfalls over perpendicular granite cliffs some 2 or 3,000 feet high but it happens that there is but little water at present either in the falls or lakes and the valley is bereft for the time of its principal attractions. I must say, after all I had heard of the place, that I was disappointed with it at first sight, and on leaving doubted in my inmost heart whether the game even at the proper time of the year 'vallait la chandelle'.
But a horse ride the next day did get the blood flowing a little.
Here it is I got one of the jolliest frights I ever got, it happened thus wise. On the way up Fergusson was telling me all about the rattlesnakes in the valley and how the Indians catch them with a forked stick etc. so during a ramble alone after dinner, I happened to jump with my canvas shoes into a bramble, one of the thorns entering my foot with a bang. My mind being on snakes at the moment it is not unnatural that my feet were in an instant on others, so I sat down on a rock, recalled to mind the sins of my past life and took off my shoe so as to allow the foot to swell up with greater facility. As this did not take place, I put the shoe on again and returned to Snows thankfully delighted to see my friends once more.
He was (relief!) 'delighted with the big trees' of the sequoia forests at Mariposa and Calaveras. 'The bark, of which I brought a large piece home from one of the trees, is about 24 inches thick.' The seven of them in their party attempted to line their horses up around the 94ft trunk of the 'Grizzly Giant', only to estimate it would take 18 horses, nose to tail.
He was less chuffed to rise at dawn and ride off up the valley to see Mirror Lake, only to find 'the surface was in ripples' (he bought some photos, 'beautiful works of art'). And generally speaking, he was not enamoured of the tourist-trap prices in the area, either, 'little short of open robbery, although the clerk wouldn't agree with me on the point.'
In Stockton, with time to kill before the Overland Express, Victor bought new 'pants ($8) in lieu of a pair left behind at Clark's,' and a Yankee felt hat (replacing that trashed by the coach trip to Yosemite) – and then they popped in to the Insane Asylum, a 1200-man (and -woman) brick edifice, 'beautifully clean' and tidy, and 'surrounded by well kept gardens'. 'The walls of the corridors are hung with paintings by the inmates, the subjects being in some cases very doubtful to inexperienced eyes such as ours. They are altogether curious productions devoid of perspective, but of sufficient artistic merit 'to go mad about'.'
The Overland Express sleeper they judged to be not much better than their boat experiences. 'Fortunately,' wrote Victor, ' there is no scenery to miss seeing.' The 'express' was often 'going like a snail' ('these rails have been laid in rough and ready manner to be improved upon as the line pays'), the era of the great plains buffaloes was over, they weren't blown away by the 'hurried repasts' at various depots, and the occasional snow sheds (to protect the track/train from drifts and avalanches) 'are a fruitful source of interruption when one is reading on the train.'
He tried to keep their spirits up by offering excerpts from his Lonely Planet:
8th September: [We] passed the 'Maiden's Grave' which is noticeable by a large white cross quite close to the line and bearing that inscription. An emigrant Lucinda Duncan fell sick here and despite the watchful care and loving tenderness of friends and kindred, her pure spirit floated into the unknown mist dividing the real from the ideal, the mortal from the immortal (this is an extract from a rigmarole in the guidebook).
Having made a point of experiencing pretty much every denomination of Christianity (and beyond) that you can think of, on the 9th they took the branch line out to Salt Lake, 'City of the Blessed'. They bathed in both the sulphurous hot springs and the lake itself ('each person is supplied with a bucket of fresh water to wash off the brine, if this wasn't done it might be a case of Lot's wife with everyone'), and attended services at both the President's Sabbath School and the Mormon Tabernacle (with the Presbyterian church in between, just for good measure!), where they were informed that a) 'there had been no religion till the angel had an interview with John Smith prophet and first Mormon in 1823', and b) 'that we Gentiles don't understand the Bible at all and that our religion is consequently all wrong.'
Victor felt that they, the visitors, 'seemed to be the only persons listening'; but he was much struck by the 10,000-seater Tabernacle, with its many doors, large organ, and the 'second largest self sustaining roof on the continent'. He was struck also by 'the great number of atrocious ugly women in the congregation,' and remarked that – perhaps there's no connection – while men and women might bathe together in the lake (albeit wearing a 'cumbersome dress'), in the Tabernacle they sat separately.
After lunch they 'brushed up a bit' and sauntered, as you do, over to the offices of Brigham Young, Joseph Smith's successor as head of the Mormon church, Governor of Utah Territory (no coincidence), epic polygamist, and founder of Salt Lake City itself, as well as of two universities.
Arrived there at 3 o'clock half an hour after the latest time for receiving visitors. The clerk however at the office had pity on us and went across the street to the Amelia Palace, a handsome house just built for the favourite wife and informed Brigham that 5 important travellers wished to pay homage. After a bit, the old gent appeared. Judge our surprise on seeing before us an old man with only 2 arms, 2 legs, a head and no tail, in all other respects fashioned like one of us! He is rather stout, grey beard, eyes keen and small, low sized but his health seems to be much broken and to all appearance will soon join his departed saints. The clerk introduced Dr Armand and told him to introduce the rest of us which done we all sat down. Then someone ventured a remark with reference to the weather and crops after which a lull. The office walls were hung around with portraits in oil colours. For want of something better to say, the Doctor asked who those personages were and Brigham using his stick to point them out told us the names of each one in succession. John Smith was the first and only one I remember. That done, we rose and shook hands and after writing our names in the visitors book we departed.
They trundled on across the plains, until 'five o'clock pm' on the 14th found them 'rolling into the wonderful city of Chicago, which by its gloomy aspect the buildings visible from the train and the deep mud in the streets reminded me at first sight of Home Sweet Home.'
Needless to say, they visited the waterworks and the parks, saw the Kemeys lions outside the Institute of Art and the $80,000 house of Mr Pullman 'of railway car fame', and toured 'one of the great pig sticking establishments for which Chicago is noted' (20,000 pigs killed in just this one institution daily, in the busy season). There is a lot of gory detail on the abattoir – but not nearly so much as on V's overdue visit to the dentist.
Now, to find a dentist in Chicago is by no means a difficult matter, 'their name is legion', that terrible word is seen in gold letters in every other window all over the city, the thing is to find a good one. Having no one to advise me in the matter, I called on chance at Mr. Day's rooms … His study was a most uninviting spot, dark and dirty, the chair springs all broken and the wall bespattered with the gore of former victims. For an hour, he ground away at a large back molar with an ingenious treadle machine grinding on the ivory and the nerve alternately causing me the most exquisite torture, which changed afterwards into a continued agony…
The next day he went back 'first thing after breakfast and got 2 teeth stopped. My sufferings were not as intense as yesterday although it was bad enough. He had a curious hand instrument with a spring, by pressing which it hammered away at the stopping and made an awful noise in my poor head and seemed to me to have loosened every other tooth in my jaws.'
On the 18th, the took the night train to Niagara, 'and drove to the Clifton House on the Canadian side which is the best hotel for seeing from if one can get front rooms.' Not only did he experience a repeat of his conclusions on the Californian tourist circuit – 'the accommodation and table are not much but the charges are ($4.50)' – but in a 'native curiosities' shop 'for the second time in my travels my arms went through a glass case and had to cure the pane with a dollar.'
In the morning, 'we stood for the photographic "en groupe" with the Falls in the background,' but after several attempts the photographer shooed them away until they were 'in a more tranquil mood'. Victor took himself for a stroll along the roaring Niagara River, 'to have the delightful toothache which I owe to my Chicago dentist all to myself.'
By the 21st, though, the poor chap could barely carry on.
I left the others to enjoy their drive to Brock's Monument and went to tell all my sorrows to a dentist. Dr. Martin, who has rooms over some Bank, became the happy object of my patronage, he was a nice man and my choice was a fortunate one. I directed him to undo the Chicago man's work i.e. to unstop the tooth and lose the nerve. Being filled with metal and stopped immediately upon an inflamed nerve, the operation was a most painful one. He prepared it for filling and told me to return in the afternoon which I did when he put in what he said was a substance non-conducting of heat. Paid him his 2½ dollars and retired with thanks, but at 9pm the toothache returned with such severity that I resolved 'conte qui conte' and notwithstanding the hour to get the offender drawn. I crossed the bridge and fortunately found Dr Martin close by. I stated my case to him and he lit the gas and being refused ether or chloroform I resignedly opened my mouth… The tooth broke at once, forceps had to be dug through the gums more than once, head was dragged from the trunk in an awful manner when after 5 minutes most of it was out the remaining splinters to work their way out at leisure. The dentist would not take any further fee for this last operation so barring the pain in my maw, which remained for some weeks, nothing more occurred in connection with this unpleasant affair. I considered all my sufferings and trouble were due to the unskilled manner in which the Chicago man did his work in the first instance and I wrote him a letter the same evening giving him in violent terms my opinion on the subject carefully abstaining from putting date or name in the epistle, after this I felt much relieved.
On the 22nd, they arrived in New York, where they were put up by some relatives in Brooklyn, booked tickets for (contrarily) a tour to Canada, heard the million-selling reformer Thomas De Witt Talmage preach, and, thanks to attending yet another church service, missed the sight (but heard the boom) of a three-year-old girl detonating some river-obstructing Hell Gate rock with dynamite, 'through an electro coil'.
At 8am on the 25th, they set off up the Hudson on the Daniel Drew, en route to Montreal via Albany, Saratoga, Fort William Henry, Ticonderoga and Plattsburgh. 'The scenery was most enchanting,' wrote Victor, who had seen both, 'but why people draw comparisons between [the Hudson] and the Rhine I don't know as it is totally different.'
They embarked on a botched rapids excursion to/from Kingston, imbibed some culture (incl. Van Dyke's Crucifixion), stayed at the St Lawrence Hall ('the Prince of Wales put up here on his visit because there is nowhere else to go. Charges very moderate'), and visited the Bon Fecours night market. 'Most of the lower class speak in French and are quiet, respectable, polite folk. Wolf and bear skins are $75, buffalo $30.' A 'very dilapidated Nelson's Column,' it was noted, 'faces the jail and has the mighty ocean at his back.' At the Mount Royal cemetery, 'In winter, the great depth of snow at times prevents internments from taking place in which case the coffins have to be deposited temporarily in the mortuary chapels for months at a time, thus it sometimes occurs that more than one member of a family is laid beneath the sod at the same time.'
Then they steamed down the St Lawrence to Quebec, where, on 3rd October, they paid their respects to Wolfe and Montcalm, as cows grazed on the Plains of Abraham.
After breakfast we drove to the Indian village Loretto at 9 miles distance and here we paid a visit to the Huron Chief Tahourhenshe or as the French of whom his tribe have also been allies [call him] Paul Picard. To know that this shabby old gent has any pretensions to Indian blood one would require to be told it beforehand and then you fancy you can detect something about the eyes… He was very affable and showed us a bronze medal he got at the Dublin Exhibition of 1865 for Indian Curiosities, some of which he had in his room in the shape of snow shoes, moccasins of moose hair and imitation tobogammies. Of course we were expected to and did purchase a few thingamabobs to pay for our welcome. He had affair which combined the emblems of peace and war in the shape of a tomahawk the opposite end from the blade being a pipe bowl and the handle forming the pipe stem. This is called the Pipe of Peace with which we were told many Englishmen had smoked.
Another curiosity very old and valuable was shown to us. The Wampuno is a sort of mat of agate bugle beads strung and woven on to a sort of grass. When the then existing 6 tribes met in Council about 200 years ago this mat was used as the mace is used by our Commons.
On the evening of the 4th they set off on a tortuous and chaotic train journey back through New England – pausing only to tour a paper mill and admire the trees 'in the full glory of their autumn dress', 'the effect… that of a huge Turkey carpet spread out beneath our gaze' – checking into their Boston hotel two full days later.
Arriving in 'the finest city we have yet seen in the States' in the centenary year of the Revolution, there was a natural theme to their itinerary. They climbed Bunker Hill where they saw '2 brass cannon called the Adams and Hancock', saw Maj Gen Warren's statue, and went round Harvard's Memorial Hall to the 300 students who died in the War of Independence. The Prince of Wales, apparently, had averred that "it [was] high time that these old things should be forgotten"; but at the Porcellian Club they found '4 young gents discuping a bottle of wine' who were all too happy to show them round the building's seven decades of history.
They also saw the Washington Elm (under which the eponymous general undertook to command the Continental Army), 'very old and cobbled together with plaster and iron bands,' and Longfellow's house, where Washington had once lived. Then they drove out to the 'great granite Sphinx commemorat[ing] the War of the Union [only just 10 years earlier] and abolition of slavery', and – perhaps fittingly – saw the monument at Mass. Gen. Hospital to the 1846 discovery of ether: 'Neither shall there be any more pain.'
Over the next few days, they toured the Perkins Institute for the Blind and Dr. Cullen's Home for Consumptives, the Museum of Fine Arts, the Public Library – 'the finest in the world' – and the Rand Avery publishing house, where they were shown round by Mr. Rand himself, an acquaintance from their time on the Pacific Railway. And of course they took in a good few churches, new and old (and, in the case of the New Old South Church, both): 'The Protestant element here is very strong and the people are a good church-going lot.'
On the night of the 9th, the 'palatial steamboat Providence' to New York had 2500 on board, so while the womenfolk were squirrelled away in a spare cabin, the man 'lay about the decks on mattresses all night.' This can't have been too warm, and Victor remained awake all night to avoid people walking all over him.
And thence straight through to Philadelphia where, thanks to the convenient proximity of the United States Hotel to the grounds of the Centennial Exposition (the first official World's Fair to be held outside of Europe), Victor regretted not having much excuse to see the rest of town.
No matter. He spent the better part of three days wandering the halls (the grounds had their own monorail), just one of which – the Machinery Hall – was '4/5 mile long…. In the centre of this building is a huge 1400hp Carliss engine which could turn all the machinery in the place at the same time and turn all the people out at closing time if it liked.' All told, the 115ha Fairmount Park hosted almost 15,000 business from 35 countries, for the occasion.
Disappointed at not being able to dine in the 'New England Farmers House of 100 years ago' ('were told that the beans were out which left us under the impression that the people of New England dined exclusively of this vegetable in the good old times'), he nonetheless put in nine straight hours on the 13th, admiring 'John Bull', 'the first locomotive used in America built by Stephenson', weaving and etchings done by Queen Victoria herself, and 'a sleeping lady worked in butter' who could only appear at intervals since she needed otherwise to be kept chilled. The next day he went back to see 'Old Abe', an eagle which had served three years with the regiment of Wisconsin ('won 15 battles') and who now sold pictures and 'signed' copies of his life story. Alas: 'After a few hours of this, he gets quite bewildered and refused to write his name so the purchaser gets a feather instead. I saw, whilst looking on, quite a number of feathers abstracted and calculated in a week's time the cook would have but little trouble in either killing or plucking this poor warrior.'
One could have gone down several hundred entire rabbit warrens in the course of reading Uncle Victor's document (and I did); but I should note that even a cursory glance at Wikipedia suggests the Philadelphia Centennial also showcased such minor developments as the telephone, the typewriter, and Heinz Tomato Ketchup – none of which the admittedly 'bewildered' Victor even mentions!
Back in New York – where he was somewhat surprised, 'at Smith's Church in the evening', to see 'the Witch scene from Macbeth read during the sermon' – the travellers had a day off, 'for the first time since leaving Melbourne.' Inevitably, Victor spent it mending locks.
As their tour began to wind down, he and Ger took in some more art galleries ('saw Turner's Slave Ship which we took for granted is very fine although we couldn't make it out at all'), a nickel works, the aquarium ('which we don't believe is the finest in the world'), and started to say farewell to friends and fellow travellers – and of course attended a last few church services: 'Ed took me to [mega-famous preacher] Beecher's in the evening. Went ¾ hour early and got good seats. He preached from the centre of a perfect bower of branches and bouquets, does a good deal of acting and introduces a humorous element into his sermon. I didn't care for him.'
There was also the small matter of a Presidential election looming – Hayes (R) v Tilden (D) – and though Victor could hardly be accused of overdoing it on the political analysis, in the run-up to November he did observe 'a "barbeque" in the city tonight… Oxen roasted whole and divided among the crowd', and a Democrat parade featuring floats of coopers, smiths, boilermakers, gunmakers, bellmakers – what with the cheering and the fireworks it was as interesting as it was noisy.'
7th November: Election Day and a very wet one for which reason they say the result will be favourable to the democrats as the "silk stockings" won't care to turn out. The Banks and some of the stores are closed and the outlook is like that on a wet Sunday. The polling booths are generally barbers or should I say Tonsorial Artists shops where on the counter are placed 7 boxes with glass fronts. The voter enters with 7 slips of paper, is questioned as to his name and address, backed up with an oath and winds up by putting his papers in the aforesaid boxes.
He can't be blamed for not reporting on the outcome. Hayes v Tilden would prove to be one of the most contentious on record, Tilden 'losing' by a single Electoral College vote after a compromise – not agreed til March the following year – which saw the Republicans agree to withdraw the last troops from the South, thus ending post-war Reconstruction.
On the 10th, 'there was a gathering in the evening of sisters, cousins and aunts in our honour. And on the 11th November, 'at 2:15(pm?) the Britannia was on her way to the Old Country…. Everything is first class… the sea is as smooth as a millpond… the saloon is handsomely decorated with a fine open marble fireplace, cottage piano and a library… the only thing wanting is a few more salt cellars.'
13th November: 'Passed some pieces of wreckage but saw no one clinging to them.'
14th November: 'Steady head wind. Captain carrying on with a girl who is going over to be married to someone else.'
15th November: 'It being rough today, I feel queer but nothing more.'
One last concert – attended by Mr Ismay of Ismay and Imrie (founder of the White Star Line), and Senator A.T. Galt, the Canadian Chancellor – and one positively final gripe about the services ('tried the Chants but should have kept them for dinner as they made a hash of them'), and on the 20th they changed on to the Queenstown tender and got word that their father was awaiting them at the Imperial Hotel in Cork.
On Tuesday 21st November, 1876 – after 384 days at sea, by road, or on the railway – Victor Emmanuel Smyth returned to Dublin. And 'thus ends the true and faithful narrative of my voyage Round the World.'
Irreverent, itchy-footed and not by instinct undercritical, I find I see a lot of 'Uncle' Victor in myself. (His dislike of mangos certainly trickled down/sideways through some generations.) That said, I'd like to know much more about him. For one thing, where are all his photos, souvenirs, and other knickknacks? The NZ jade, the rattlesnake skin, the 'little stone' from Gen. Wolfe's monument? How long, I wonder, did he wear those eight-buck leather boots? Did Geraldine, perhaps, not keep a journal, too…?
The rest comes from his 'Autobiography of VES', a slightly sad 15-page coda to the 'Journal' manuscript.
On his return to Ireland he went back to the family grocery on Stephen's Green, 'was given a share in the profits as a limited partner', and lived upstairs next door, at No.6. But when his father died 'and left his business to my brother… thus ended my connection with Stephen's Green.' Nor is this the only patch of cloud in an otherwise seemingly sunny disposition (also a family trait, I feel).
At something of a loose end, in 1895 Victor bought his first camera (he's known within the family for some trick shots), and three years on went into business as a photographer in downtown Dublin. But by 1910 he'd jacked it in 'owing to heavy rent and poor outlook'. He lived on for another 37 years.
For Perspective magazine
This was written by A S H Smyth. Posted on Saturday, December 25, 2021, at 6:46 pm. Filed under feature, Journalism. Tagged America, Australia, Britain, diary, Ireland, New Zealand, Perspective, travel, Victor Emmanuel Smyth. Bookmark the permalink. Follow comments here with the RSS feed. Post a comment or leave a trackback.
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If you would like both a CD from Ted and the book then why not donate at least $135?
Send me a note at [email address removed and retired due to end of offer & spam] letting me know that you made the donation and when. Be sure to include your mailing address.
Offer ends when I run out of books. I'll update this post when/if that happens.
UPDATE (9/2/05 4:45pm CST): I can take requests from five more people so if you were inspired by this offer then please act soon.
UPDATE (9/2/05 6:33pm CST): This was quick. I'm afraid I have to end the offer now. I will be shipping 35 books to people across the U.S. next week. Thanks to all for the many generous donations!
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Great Yarmouth enjoyed the spectacular sight of the giant Seabourn Ovation cruise ship pulling into port on Sunday morning.
More than £2m has been spent in recent years to shore up and repair a busy bridge - but it continues to break down.
West End smash hit theatre show Be Bop a Lula presents a slice of rock'n'roll history - starring five giants of rock'n'roll - Eddie Cochran, Gene Vincent, Billy Fury, Buddy Holly and Roy Orbison.
Three boats designed and manufactured by a Norfolk boat builder as part of a £3m contract have been unveiled.
Sir Ken Dodd who tickled thousands of comedy fans for decades, including many in East Anglia, has died.
A shocked householder saw a car thief driving away in her son's Ford Focus which had been stolen from the driveway of the family home in Bradwell, a court heard.
Port traffic in Great Yarmouth could be handled remotely and six jobs put at risk under a bid to transfer control to Liverpool.
Gleadell Agriculture has kicked off its 2018 exports campaign by loading the appropriately named MV Lord Nelson in Great Yarmouth with 25,000mt of feed barley.


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Created by Charles Campbell, February – March 2008.
Using objects, projections of hand drawn images, music from Alban Berg's opera, Wozzeck, home-made film, text and a two foot open box frame, Visits With Woyzeck explored Büchner's famously fragmented work in the context of Toy Theater for Open Eye Figure Theatre's 2008 Toy Theater After Dark festival.
Rather than trying to represent a whole world, the piece worked with only those aspects of the world that could enter the dimensions of the toy theater. The piece also played with the high contrast between the material realities of the small objects/body parts and the mediated images of the projections.


Science fiction lovers will be teleported to another time and place in this unique anthology of fanciful stories from a variety of famous award-winning writers. Even more enticing is to ponder and discover the author for each of these tales that challenge the intellect and imagination. Since the names are encoded it's up to the reader to match the story to the author.
Find out what happens in the world's newest profession and what befalls a gifted musician during his last concert and why a perfectly matched and loving couple cannot marry. What are Arboreal hominids and who are the Monsters of Dis? Does the invasion of machines into the sanctuary of a cathedral denote the end of the world?
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Isaac Asimov provides the introduction to each selection, notes that hint and tease but never reveal.
I actually enjoyed this anthology of original stories (with the authors' names encoded, as had been done with Who Done It?) rather more than I thought. In fact, Asimov's own contribution to the volume, "The Winds of Change" is one of the weakest stories in the volume. It's fairly nice, if never truly spectacular, and worth reading, although there is very little of genuine interest here for the Asimov fan.


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Optimize Small Room with Fabric Corner Sofas image above is part of the post in Optimize Small Room with Fabric Corner Sofas gallery. Related with Living Rooms category.
This post published on Monday, April 4th, 2016 . Read The Best Ways to Decorate a Living Dining Room Combo or find other post and pictures about Living Rooms, Sitting Rooms, Sofas.
Topics: small room, fabric corner sofas, .


text:
David Martin Norris, född 22 februari 1981 i Stamford, England, är en engelsk professionell fotbollsspelare och mittfältare som spelar i Leeds United. Han spelade tidigare för bland andra Bolton Wanderers, Plymouth Argyle, Ipswich Town och Portsmouth innan han köptes av Leeds inför säsongen 2012/2013. Han gjorde mål i sin debutmatch för Leeds mot Shrewsbury Town i första omgången av Capital One Cup den 11 augusti 2012.

Referenser

Spelare i Plymouth Argyle FC
Spelare i Ipswich Town FC
Spelare i Portsmouth FC
Spelare i Leeds United FC
Födda 1981
Män
Levande personer
Personer från Stamford

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


text:
Die Mazarinetten (französisch: Mazarinettes) waren die sieben Nichten des französischen Kardinals und Ministers Jules Mazarin, welche dieser 1647 und 1653 gemeinsam mit drei seiner Neffen aus Italien nach Frankreich kommen ließ, um sie anschließend vorteilhaft mit Mitgliedern mächtiger und einflussreicher europäischer Adelshäuser zu verheiraten. Standesdünkel des Hochadels wurden dabei vom Kardinal durch enorme Mitgiften beiseite geräumt.

Familie

Die Mädchen waren die Töchter zweier Schwestern Mazarins, Laura Margeritha und Geronima, auch Girolama genannt.

Töchter Lauras, verehelichte Martinozzi, waren:
 Laura Martinozzi (* 1635/38/39; † 1687), durch Heirat mit Alfonso IV. d'Este ab 1658 Herzogin von Modena und Reggio
 Anna Maria Martinozzi (* 1637; † 1672), durch Heirat mit Armand de Bourbon ab 1654 Fürstin von Conti

Töchter Geronimas, verehelichte Mancini, waren:
 Laura Mancini (* 1636; † 1657), durch Heirat mit Louis I. de Bourbon ab 1651 Herzogin von Mercœur
 Maria Mancini (* 1639; † 1715), durch Heirat mit Lorenzo Onofrio I. Colonna ab 1661 Herzogin von Colonna
 Olympia Mancini (* 1639; † 1708), durch Heirat mit Eugen Moritz von Savoyen-Carignan ab 1657 Gräfin von Soissons
 Hortensia Mancini (* 1646; † 1699), durch Heirat mit Armand-Charles de La Porte ab 1661 Herzogin von Mazarin
 Maria Anna Mancini (* 1649; † 1714), durch Heirat mit Godefroy Maurice de La Tour d'Auvergne ab 1662 Herzogin von Bouillon

Biographien

Als sie in Frankreich eintrafen, waren sie zwischen sieben und 13 Jahren alt und wurden trotz ihrer vergleichsweise niederen Herkunft durch die Regentin Anna von Österreich am französischen Königshof aufgenommen. Die Mutter Ludwigs XIV. sorgte außerdem dafür, dass einige der Mazarinetten gemeinsam mit dem noch unmündigen König und dessen Bruder Philippe im Palais Royal erzogen wurden. Durch diese Gunstbezeugung wurden sie auf eine Stufe mit den Prinzen von Geblüt gestellt.

Als die ersten Mädchen bei Hofe vorgestellt wurden, sagte der  französische Marschall Villeroy zu Gaston de Bourbon, dem Herzog von Orléans: "Voilà des petites demoiselles qui présentement ne sont point riches, mais qui bientôt auront de beaux châteaux, de bonnes rentes, de belles pierreries, de bonne vaisselle d'argent, et peut-être de grandes dignités […]" (deutsch: "Kleine Fräuleins, die derzeit überhaupt nicht reich sind, aber bald schöne Schlösser, üppige Einkünfte, schöne Geschmeide, Silbergeschirr und vielleicht auch hohe Titel besitzen werden […]"). Die Mazarinetten fielen in Paris nicht nur durch ihr italienisch-südländisches Äußeres auf, sondern zogen gerade wegen der Vorzugsbehandlung durch die königliche Familie und als Nichten des beim französischen Adel verhassten "Italieners" Mazarin viel Ablehnung und Neid auf sich. Eine der sogenannten Mazarinaden, Spottschriften und Pamphlete, die sich gegen Mazarin richteten und zwischen 1648 und 1653 sehr zahlreich in Frankreich veröffentlicht wurden, beschreibt die Kardinalsnichten wie folgt:

Andere Mazarinaden beschimpften sie als "Schmutzprinzessinnen" und "stinkende Nattern". Die Mädchen teilten während der Fronde das Schicksal ihres Onkels: Sie mussten zweimal Paris verlassen und ins Exil gehen, doch schließlich sicherte Jules Mazarin seinen Nichten nach dem Ende des Aufstandes durch entsprechende Verheiratungen und Hochzeitsgeschenke ein Leben in Wohlstand und Sorglosigkeit.

Die berühmteste der Mazarinetten ist Maria Mancini, die als erste große Liebe Ludwigs XIV. gilt, und deshalb kurz vor seiner Heirat mit der spanischen Infantin Maria Teresa den französischen Hof für immer verlassen musste. Ihre Schwester Olympia dagegen blieb als Comtesse de Soissons in Paris und soll zumindest vorübergehend eine der kleineren Maitressen des Königs gewesen sein.

Literatur
 Pierre Combescot: Les petites Mazarines. Grasset, Paris 1999, ISBN 2-246-47761-1.
 Paul Guth: Mazarin. Frankreichs Aufstieg zur Weltmacht. Societäts-Verlag, Frankfurt am Main 1973, ISBN 3-7973-0245-2, S. 637–670.
 Jacques Hillairet: Les Mazarinettes ou, Les sept nièces de Mazarin. Éditions de Minuit, Paris 1976, ISBN 2-7073-0138-8.
 Amédée Renée: Die Nichten Mazarin's. Studien der Sitten und Charaktere im 17. Jahrhundert. 3. Auflage. Rudolf Kuntze, Dresden 1858, S. 88–99 (online).
 Paul de Saint-Victor: Les Mazarines. In: Revue du XIXe siècle. Band 4. Paris 1867, S. 323–331.
 Guy Jean Raoul Eugène Charles Emmanuel de Savoie-Carignan: The seven richest heiresses of France. J. Long, London 1911 (online).

Einzelnachweise

Geschichte Frankreichs in der Frühen Neuzeit
Mancini (Adelsgeschlecht)