CAPTAIN MAYNE REID.

Lyttelton Times, Volume LIX, Issue 6870, 7 March 1883, Page 6

CAPTAIN MAYNE REID.

(Londm corr**}>ona*ni S<m Jfomota* Cftreiticls.) There if an oddly-attired figure 1 sometimes encounter at the Lasgham Hotel. It is that ot a man who wears a grey, f user salt, oat in a peculiar way, a red rest, shirts of lurid hue, collars of monstrous eminence and aggressive points, stockings of vermilion, coquettish!? displayed over furred slippers, retrying, or rather carried by, crutches of the finest wood, mounted on gold and highly polished—for this mao is a cripple, and his name is Captain Mayne Eeid. What boy doesn't know him f How many of us have pursued the hear, trailed the tiger, dared the lion, shot the buffalo with him, and gained our first knowledge of natural history from the page* of his extraordinary and prolific writings? When Captain Mayne Beid goes out of doors he wears a white cork service hat, trimmed with white satin ribbon and draped with a silk cord and tassel. Ob, I assure you, bis is an odd appearance, and his a strange life and history, let me see, he wrote forty books—about hall of them boys’ stories, the others novels in which daring conception of plot was laid out in unmistakable colours of black and white. These books have been translated into twelve languages, while their aggregate sale in all their editions in (he English tongue reaches over a million copies. Thus, you see that the Captain has talked to a good many people in his time. All these facta I knew before I ever met Captain Mayne Held, and he himself rehearsed them with a pardonable show of vanity and a charming air of self-depreciation, which, taken with his genial spirits, ready wit, wide range of observation, quick perception, and clever analysis, mode an hour’s chat with him one of the most enjoyable things you can imagine. After we had bean properly introduced he •aid first that he was a shattered old hulk, bat he enjoyed a friend, a glass, and a chat about as well as anybody in the world, “Now,” he added, as we drifted off into one corner of the great smoking-room and occupied two easy chairs there, “ Now, bless me, yon can't think of writing about me now, can you? Why, I ain’t worth it." He screwed a bit of gold-rimmed glare into his left eye, and peered through it with such a humorous, quizzical glance that I felt quite enough at home to demand a sample of reminiscence, a bit of present history or record and anything else he would talk about. “ You boys are doing things with your pens Z never thought of doing. Well, well, let me see. Do you know I lea the forlorn hope in Mexico at Chepultepec f I .was a Captain in tbs volunteers from New York in that war and the wound I got there is what ceases my lameness now. I never got a pension, although 1 have tried to and 1 certainly have good grounds to ask for it. You see, it was necessary to reduce Ohepultepeo before the American forces could reach the City of Mexico. General Wort h had almost sacrificed our army by his ridiculous stupidity. As it was, ho had caused the needless less of 1200 men by charging a battery over a mile of open field, and it did look scaly for our chaps. I was placed with two companies to guard an enfilading battery, and when the attack on the castle at Chepultepec was ordered I was left in that post of inglorious idleness—the rear. When the lino moved up and away from me I chafed desperately, but I saw after a time the smoke of the firing was getting no nearer the enemy, and that if we were defeated now the American cause was lost. At that moment, wben danger threatened X called on my men to follow mo, and thus in an instant organising a forlorn hope, we charged on the castle under a, murderous rain of bullets. Just before 1 got to the wall, a shot too well aimed •track mo on the inner upper p&rt of the thigh, and I fell. My Lieutenant, Louis D’Arvillo, took my plao» and led the charge over the wall, and ho, with his own hand, pulled down the Mexican standard and hoisted the stars and stripes. “ Ah, me t those were stirring days, and Z —well I was young. Shall Igoon ? Yes ? Well Z came back to New York, and the agitators for European freedom were coming there to try and secure some of those adventurous men (who are to be found in every war—who fight out of the very necessities of their natures, as it were. They were largely represented in the American army. Many of them went to California, and hundreds are yet living there, prosperous and happy. Many came to New York, and from them it was proposed to form a legion to go into the Black Forest and aid Louis Kossuth. The men agreed to go if 1 could be secured as their leader. At that time X was just considering the advisability of taking advantage ot the opportunity then afforded to enter the regular army. But then X thought of the years of monotonous, dull garrison Ufa on the plains. I wanted adventure. X had to have it, and this new proposition had all the charm X could ask for in that direction, and at the same time was a struggle for liberty and an effort for independence. X have hem a student of politics and governments, and that is one of the reasons I like

the United States so much. Its method ol government is the best in the world, and its people jovial,'pushing, bard*working, pros* perous, happv and with lots of brain, form the grandest nation known to history, “However, to continue my story, said the Captain, deftly rescuing bis eyeglass from the danger of falling into the brandy and soda be had just tipped toward his lips, “I accepted the command and sailed for England by steamer. Ton know, perhaps, that I am an Irishman by birib, but the son of English and Scotch parents. The men were to come in a tailing ship, but you know the uprising was anticipated through the treachery of one of Kossuth's officers, and Kossuth himself was forosd to dee. I met him in London kere**a splendid fellow, a grand mind; an enthusiast, brave as a lion and true as steel. Just about this time Mizzini bad issued in Milan a call for the people to make a stroke lor liberty. Unfortunately, he weed a proclamation that had been written for the Hungarians by Kos* sulh, and thus the latter became, at yon may readily see, identified with this new molu* tionary, movement. He wanted to go to Milan, but he knew that should he enter franco the Emperor would imprison him beyond doubt. Well, I said, Til take you,* and I secured a passport for us both, with him as my servant. Ho did not getaway, however, the uprising having proved uwov ocfiful almost before it bod formed." • ‘. The old gentleman just then performed once more the clover feat of rescuing bis glass just in lime to prevent it falling into his brandy and soda, and went on i “The Timi newspaper wae then a power, indeed. It criticised Kossuth most severely, charging him with inciting revolutions whilst he him* self dwelt far away from their scene and in safety. I sent them a letter } they declined to publish it, and said in their notices to oorrcs* pendente that it was not of a nature which commended it lor publication. The next day I published the letter in all the newspapers

ftctd began a wap ef word# with the 3%w« (h*t nearly proved fatal to nay HUnwy Mpilt* iiooi. At that time X wm Just iwatof th» "Rifle Xtoagars,' mt first be 4 X never hod a good word said for mo in the in* deed, scarcely ever a mention, and »*v*r a kind one. That influence extended to the eontemnoraneotui pm» and to Amsvfe*, and my worts have been riogulariy unfortunate, cause, in ike way of receiving Otm man the old gentleman aoeompUshsd the feat of rescuing hit glee* from the brandy and eedtt, k feat whose repetition never dulled my enjoyment of it, and, leaning hack in bit plane, went on t "1 had •omo property, and toy wife, whom X had married about thi* time, bad Mine, One morning in 1860 I looked onl from my window and mw my own due park and ground* ; my home, carriage* and doge j my own happy, luxurioue home.” Hie vole# wae getting low. “ Ye# j ay own and my wife'* nappy, happy home. An hoar later 1 opened a letter that told me I wm a beggar. A failure in London had swept everything away —everything, you see—-and I and my young wife were beggars.” Hie voioe had sunk to a whisper almoet, and was burdened wilh ’ tho grief that «#nt the tears into the dear old chap's eyes. This time the eye-glass completed ineeeas* fully its efforts to get into the brandy tumbler, and thereby created a diversion. “ You see, that wm the time 1 oune to America and started the magazine called Onward in How York. I kept it ping for two years, but with no success. It failed so utterly that 1 couldn't even sell it.” This time the eye*glMt was Intercepted, and the great story toller said : “ What do you think of that for a short sketch of my life, eh P “and leaned in his place and played with bit crutches. “ When the magaxine failed I went sick. My leg got worse, and for a year X was the victim of toe most horrible melancholia. My wife took care of me, and 1 couldn't bear her to be out of my eight. I wm oppressed with the fear that I wm ping mad, out presently I got better, and here you see me.suffering the anguish of the damned from sciatica—lame, wem out, but happy and charmed to ase yon, my dear young friend." Ho put out both of his pretty, white and small hands and shook mine and said good* bye. As I turned to go the troublesome eyeglass made an intercepted plunge at the goblet and the old gentleman winked know* ingle at me, nodded ohcerfullv, and thus, rattling the ice In hie tumbler, I left him. Captain Reid has never made a grant deal of money out of hie writings, (hie might naturally suppose that in view of the vast eala they have had he would be possessed of a competence. Not so. Indeed they never brought him a living. Of thi* he complains with tome bitterness. The American pub* Usher* hare paid him about £SOO in all—a small share of what their profits were ; hot then they didn't have to pay him anything, in the absence of international copyright*. He lives in Herefordshire, down near the boundary lines of Wales. His country house is called Frogmore, a charming place in the town of Boss. There he writes and studies natural history, of which be has always been an ardent student.. Ho has no children j but his young and beautiful wife in her lordliness compensates for the absence of yoong olive branches, and fills the life and heart of the peat story*teUer with joy and peace.