I had my own small experience at this time of trial. Threatening letters were flying about, and I received a fair share of them, for I was at that time very obnoxious to the Irish party in Leeds. One evening, on going down to my office, which I entered from a narrow thoroughfare called Bank Street, I was startled by being suddenly called upon to halt when near the office door, whilst a policeman's lantern was flashed in my face. One of our workmen explained my identity to the officer, and I was allowed to pass. I then learned that the Leeds police had received information of a plot to blow up the Mercury office, and they had, accordingly, posted guards round the building. I was in the habit of driving home every night, or rather every morning, to my residence at Headingley, and the police suggested that I should be accompanied by an officer; but I did not believe in my danger, and desired no such protection. In the depths of one winter's night, when a thaw was dissolving a heavy fall of snow, I had a great fright. I had left my cab, which had driven away, and was mounting the steps leading to the porch of my house, when I suddenly saw, lying on the half-melted snow against the door itself, a large bundle wrapped in sacking. I drew near it cautiously, and heard a curious ticking sound proceeding from it. "An infernal machine!" I exclaimed to myself, and I confess I was horribly frightened. The outer door of the porch was unlocked, and, opening it, I bounded inside, carefully avoiding the object which I suspected. I unlocked the inner door, and, entering the house, locked and barred it behind me.

Then, when I got into my dining-room, reason asserted itself, and I felt heartily ashamed of my panic. If the thing were an infernal machine, it would certainly do a great deal of damage if it exploded where it lay. I strung my nerves up to the sticking-point, went out, unlocked the door, seized the mysterious package in my hands, and flung it as far as I could into a little shrubbery in the garden. There was no explosion such as I had expected. Nothing, indeed, happened; but when I got back to my dining-room, and saw my face in a mirror, I found it was as white as a sheet. The next morning I went out to look for the infernal machine. It was a coarse sack, filled with blocks of wood and sawdust, and I have a strong suspicion that it had been placed where I found it as a practical joke. The ticking which I had heard, and which had convinced me that I had to deal with an infernal machine, was evidently produced by the drip, drip of water from the bag on the step beneath it. Such were features in the lives of men more or less before the public eye in the years of the dynamite terror.

In the summer of 1885, along with many others, I met with a great loss. This was the death at Vichy of my dear old friend, Lord Houghton. No kinder friend than he man ever had. The world was inclined to laugh at his peculiarities, which lay upon the surface, and to ignore the sterling qualities that formed the basis of his character. If it is right to speak of a man as you find him, then I am entitled to say that there never lived a kinder or more generous man, or a truer friend, than Monckton Milnes. To me he was all this. I have told already the story of our first acquaintance in 1870, and of the debt which I very soon owed him. I could fill a volume with reminiscences of his talk, as I used to hear it during my frequent visits to Fryston, and of the warmth of his sympathy with one who had no claim upon him. I have made many friends in the course of my life, and looking back upon the list I am constrained to say that I have made more friends through the mediumship of Lord Houghton than through that of any other man.

Among those whom I first met at his house, I must not omit Edward, fourteenth Earl of Derby, better known in his time as the Lord Stanley who served as Foreign Secretary under the premiership of his brilliant father, the thirteenth Earl. Lord Derby—the man of whom I speak—was one of the great misunderstood figures of his generation. Men slandered him as freely as they slandered Mr. Gladstone, and, unlike the great Liberal leader, he did not possess that strong following of ardent adherents who stood by their chief, no matter how sternly Fortune might frown upon him. Lord Derby was one of the shyest of men, and, as a consequence, he was really known, even when he was in the thick of his political work, by only a few men and women. Those who did know him held him, however, in the highest esteem. There was no better judge of character than Lord Houghton, and often he would remark upon the fact that Lord Derby was almost as unpopular as his father had been the reverse. He cited this as a proof of the incapacity of the public for forming correct estimates of character. I had been in confidential correspondence with Lord Derby long before I first met him at Fryston, and in 1879 I wrote an article in Macmillan's Magazine dealing with his career at the Foreign Office, and with his reason for resigning his post in Lord Beaconsfield's Administration. This article was written on information which he supplied, and he himself corrected the proof-sheets. Yet these facts did not prevent some of the cocksure critics of the Press from announcing that I was wholly mistaken in my account of Lord Derby's action and motive. I have found, however, that nothing is so certain to meet with an absolute contradiction in the Press as an indubitable fact which comes as a piece of unexpected news to the ordinary journalist.

When I met Lord Derby under Lord Houghton's roof he was far too shy to make any reference to our previous correspondence, yet when the first painful embarrassment had passed away, he proved a delightful companion, and his conversation was full of the charm derived from ample knowledge and marked intellectual power. No man was simpler than he in his intercourse with those whom he trusted. It was difficult when talking to him to realise the fact that you were speaking to one who had held the great office of Foreign Secretary. Instead of laying down the law upon foreign affairs he seemed anxious to elicit the opinions of other persons, and he displayed a modest simplicity of manner which was very striking. He has been described as the incarnation of common-sense, and the general public believed him to be as full of facts and as dry as a Blue Book. In reality he had a decided love of humour, and his conversation, which was illustrated by many good stories, had all the light and shade, the warmth and colour, that good talk ought to possess. He was amazingly frank in his criticisms upon men and upon current affairs.

The outer world believed him to be the most cautious and prudent of men, weighing every word before he uttered it, and never making a rash remark, whereas he was very much the reverse. I have, for example, heard him discuss the characters of European statesmen with an unreserved freedom that was startling. He was fond, too, of passing criticisms upon great political questions that staggered one by their boldness. I think it was in 1883 that he told me that, in his opinion, there was no future for the Tory party. Conservatism as a force was played out, and the destinies of the country must henceforth be controlled by Liberals. I am trying to give a slight sketch of the man as he really was, and not as he was believed to be by the contemporary public. If he was neither so wise nor so cautious as men thought him, he was infinitely more charming and more human, and all who really knew him mourned his death as a personal loss. When I first met him he was in a state of political transition. Although he had made up his mind to sever his connection with the Conservatives, he had taken no open steps in the direction of the other camp. The first time he ever entered a Liberal club, and made a political speech in it, was when I got him to go to the Leeds Liberal Club to receive an address from the members. He is one of the most distinguished of the figures I associate with Fryston and its gifted owner.

The very last time that I dined with Lord Houghton I had an amusing experience. It was in the late autumn of 1884. Houghton had just met with a rather severe and painful accident. He had been staying at the Durdans with Lord Rosebery, and during the night had fallen out of bed, fracturing his collar-bone. His own account of the accident was that he had dreamt that Mr. Gladstone was pursuing him in a hansom cab, and in trying to escape he had tumbled off the bed. Although in great pain, he made light, according to his wont, of his injuries, and positively went down to Yorkshire the day after the accident in order to attend a meeting of Quarter Sessions. It was only on his return to town, where he was staying with his sister, the Dowager Viscountess Galway, that he consulted a doctor, who found that the collar-bone was fractured, and at once ordered him complete rest. Complete rest was something for which Houghton was not by nature fitted. I went to call on him whilst he was laid up, and he immediately begged me to arrange a little dinner party for his amusement while he was invalided.

The person he was most anxious to secure as a guest was James Payn, and I promised to do what I could to get Payn to dine. But there were difficulties in the way. Payn disliked dining out at any time, and he had, as I have already mentioned, a rooted aversion to evening dress, which, he declared, killed more men than drink. Besides, when he did dine out, he wished to smoke as soon as he had finished eating, and for this reason he objected to dinner parties at which ladies were present. All this I explained to Houghton. "Not wear evening dress? Well, you and he can come in frock-coats. I shall be in a dressing-gown." "And the cigars?" I said. "Oh, well, of course he can smoke if he wishes." "And ladies?" I continued. "That's awkward," said the dear old gentleman, "for this is my sister's house. She must be here. But don't tell him, and then perhaps he'll come." My negotiations with Payn were successful, and on the appointed evening, a Sunday, he and I set forth in a hansom for Rutland Gardens. I remember that on the way Payn, who was in exceptionally high spirits, informed me of the engagement of his daughter Alice to Mr. Buckle, the young editor of the Times.

It was a very small party at Lady Galway's, the only other guest being Sir Frederick Pollock; but the talk was certainly as good as any I had ever listened to. When Lady Galway left the room, I reminded our host of the condition with regard to cigars, for Payn, I saw, was already impatient. Lord Houghton suggested a cigarette, which would by no means have met the views of Payn. Happily I had my cigar-case with me, and this part of the dinner treaty was carried out in its entirety. I still remember the stories of that delightful evening. They were many and striking. Both Payn and Lord Houghton were at their best, and Sir Frederick Pollock, when the opportunity occurred, gave us pleasant recollections of the past. I was only too glad to be a listener. We sat long over our cigars, and it was not until the evening was far advanced that we rejoined Lady Galway. "Now," said she, when we appeared in the drawing-room, "you have been laughing ever since I left you, but there were three distinct bursts of laughter that were louder than any others, and I insist upon being told the stories which you seemed to enjoy so much." We looked at each other in some dismay, knowing full well the difficulty of re-warming cold dishes so as to make them appetising. But Lord Houghton came to the rescue. "My dear." he said, "it is quite impossible that you should be told those stories. They were not stories for ladies." The recording angel, I am sure, blotted out our host's departure from the truth for the sake of the motive which led him to spare Payn the burden of repeating his stories.

I have dwelt upon this dinner because, though I little knew it then, it was my last meeting with my dear and generous friend. Curiously enough, Lord Houghton's last words to me when I left him at night had reference to a lady with whom we both had a slight acquaintance. When I next saw that lady, the open grave in which Lord Houghton's coffin had just been placed yawned between us. Of that memorable dinner party in December, 1884, I, alas! am the only survivor. I corresponded with Houghton during the following spring and summer, but was unable to meet him on any of the occasions on which he asked me to do so, and whilst the summer was still at its height he died at Vichy. Like many another man, I felt that in him I had lost almost the best of my friends.

At the beginning of 1884 I visited Tangier, and spent a month in that curious place, so near to Europe in point of distance and so remote from it in all other respects. Tangier had at one time a reputation as the Alsatia of Europe and the United States. I do not know whether it still deserves this fame, but when I was there there were not a few sojourners in the place who, for reasons of their own, had abandoned civilisation in favour of a country in which law is but a term. On my way from Gibraltar to Tangier I met with an unpleasant experience. The steamer which was to convey me was a miserable rickety boat, called, if I remember aright, the Lion d'Or. It was not so big as a Thames penny steamer, was filthy in the extreme, and overloaded with goods which a number of Arab merchants were taking back from Europe to Morocco. There were three other European passengers besides myself, two of them being ladies. A stiff Levanter was blowing when we started, and the trip, which should have been accomplished in three hours, took eight. I have been out in worse weather, but never in a worse vessel, and more than once in that eight hours' struggle with wind and waves my fellow-passengers and I really believed that our end had come. The captain set a sail, hoping to steady the rolling craft, and it was instantly ripped into shreds by the wind. We shipped heavy seas, and were undoubtedly very near foundering.

Most fortunately, I and the other Englishman on board, a young artist who is now a full-fledged R.A., had taken the precaution to provide ourselves with food, and it was well that the provision was a liberal one, for the two poor ladies, one of whom was a young invalid, had not so much as a biscuit between them. Of course we shared our rations, and were thus saved from hunger during our day of peril. It was dark when we entered Tangier Bay, but all round us was a sea of foaming breakers. A huge flat-bottomed barge was with great difficulty brought out to the side of the steamer, and we were bidden to jump into it at once. At the risk of broken limbs or necks, we succeeded in reaching it, and then, to my dismay, I saw the steamer, with all my baggage on board, moving off, the captain having found that it was too dangerous to remain at anchor in the bay. When we were half-way to the shore the barge suddenly filled with water and sank beneath us, fortunately in so shallow a sea that there was no danger of drowning. My walking-stick, which was a very necessary adjunct, as I still suffered from my accident on Marston Moor, was washed out of my hands, but brawny Arabs seized me and my fellow-passengers, and we were borne safely through the surf to the beach, where we arrived, dazed, breathless, and drenched to the skin.

My travelling experiences in Tunis and Turkey had prepared me for the rush which was made upon us by all the loafers of the place, shrieking in Arabic, and eagerly claiming us as their spoil. But the ladies had never been out of England before, and were naturally terrified by the wild scene, following as it did upon their narrow escape from drowning. They were going to an hotel in the town, and I escorted them to it. Then I set out on my walk to Bruzeaud's Hotel, beyond the city gates and the Soko. I was in a sorry plight when I arrived there, but nothing could exceed the kindness of my reception, not only by the host, but by the Englishmen in the house. They placed their wardrobes at my disposal, and did everything they could to make me comfortable. My lost luggage did not turn up for nearly a week, but happily I had my money and my letters of introduction in my pocket. On the morning after my arrival I called upon the ladies who had shared my experiences on the previous day, and found, happily, that they had not suffered from the shock. I never saw them again; but ten years afterwards, when I was sitting in my room in London, a gentleman who had called upon business was brought to see me. To my great surprise he burst into tears as he took my hand. When he had recovered his composure he explained that he was the father of the younger of the two ladies, and he thanked me, in what I could not but think unnecessarily warm terms, for the trifling service I had rendered to his daughter. His emotion was explained by the fact that she had but recently died.

Among the company at Bruzeaud's Hotel there was a certain Captain W., a retired naval officer, who was something of a character. He had lived long in Morocco, had the highest opinion of its enormous natural wealth, and was longing for the day when England, or some other European Power, would seize and develop it. He had many original theories. He believed, for example, that Gibraltar was a source of weakness rather than of strength to the British Empire, and he had written a pamphlet in support of a proposal that we should exchange it with Spain for Ceuta. I must confess that his idea seemed to me to be a sound one. But Gibraltar looks so grand, and makes so strong an appeal to our national pride, that no English Minister would dare to talk of surrendering it, no matter what he might be offered in exchange. All the same, I do not think that Captain W. was altogether wrong when he spoke of the Rock as a "magnificent impostor."

One day there came to our hotel a typical representative of "Padgett, M.P." He was a member of the House of Commons who, having a couple of days to spare at Gibraltar, had run across the Straits to learn all about Morocco in the space of four-and-twenty hours. In the smoking-room after dinner he aired his opinions with all the confidence begotten of his Parliamentary dignity. He denounced the French, who knew nothing, he declared, about colonisation, and whose government of Algeria was a disgraceful failure. He lauded the noble character of the Arabs, and declared that Morocco needed no improvement, and, consequently, called for no interference on the part of any European Power. Captain W., who had very strong opinions as to the corruption of the Moorish Government, listened for some time in silence to opinions which were eminently distasteful to him. But at last his patience gave way, and he addressed the astonished M.P. in the following words: "You think you know everything about Morocco, sir, although you only landed on its soil this morning. There is one thing, however, that you evidently don't know, and that is, that if I chose to spend a couple of dollars I could have your throat cut before to-morrow morning; and you've talked such nonsense, sir, that I don't know whether that wouldn't be the best thing for me to do." I never saw a Padgett, M.P., collapse more completely than did this unfortunate specimen of the race under a retort which, however wanting in urbanity, was not without very considerable provocation.

In the early summer of 1885 I ventured, for the first time during my editorship at Leeds, to take a holiday whilst Parliament was sitting. It had always previously been my rule never to leave my post during the session of Parliament, but in 1885 everything seemed to be in a state of profound calm, so far as the political world was concerned. General Gordon was dead, but the Ministry had survived his loss. It had even survived the ignominious collapse of the attempt to "break the power of the Mahdi at Khartoum" which it had professed to make. One knew that bitter intrigues were in progress behind the scenes. But now that Mr. Forster was off the scene Mr. Chamberlain seemed bent upon trying conclusions with Mr. Gladstone himself, and was preaching those doctrines of an extreme and Socialistic Radicalism which the Conservatives frankly denounced as being based on the policy of Jack Cade. But time was needed for the successful development of the new political movement, and meanwhile public affairs seemed to be running in a very humdrum course. I thought it, in consequence, a favourable opportunity for carrying out a long-cherished intention of visiting the Land of the Midnight Sun. Accordingly, at the beginning of June I went over to Bergen in a Wilson steamer from Hull. The vessel was crowded with salmon-fishers and their wives, going to Norway for the summer fishing. I was much amused by the extreme clannishness of these persons. They absolutely refused to exchange a word with anybody who was not going to Norway for purposes of sport. Those of us who, like myself, were going there either for health or to see the country were regarded by the salmon-fishing people as intruders, whose presence on the scene was to be actively and rudely resented. I have travelled much in my time, and have had only too many opportunities of observing the ridiculous and offensive behaviour of the English snob when he finds himself in foreign parts; but I do not think that I ever saw snobbish vulgarity carried further than it was by the salmon-fishers on this Wilson steamer in the summer of 1885.

For my part, I had no greater desire for their company than they had for mine, and when I reached Bergen, I speedily transhipped myself to a native cargo-boat that was announced as being about to start for the first visit of the season to the North Cape. The accommodation on board the vessel, though somewhat homely, was comfortable. I had a good cabin, and soon made friends with the officers. No other Englishman was on board. We steamed slowly up the coast as far as Trondhjem, and I had ample opportunities of admiring the fine scenery, as our vessel touched at almost every small port upon the way. After resting a day at Trondhjem, we resumed our journey for the North Cape. The passengers were chiefly Norwegians, most of whom were bound for the Lofoten Islands, where the great annual fair was about to be held. In the saloon my companions from Trondhjem were two young Frenchmen, bent, like myself, upon visiting the North Cape, and an Austrian, attached to the Court at Vienna, who, for some inscrutable reason, was fired with the same ambition. We made a very cheery company, and I was able to cast off all editorial cares in the society of these people, to whom English politics were of no account. The weather, after leaving Trondhjem, was for some days positively frightful. It was the month of June, but it rained incessantly, except when it snowed. It was bitterly cold, and heavy mists prevented our seeing anything.

The Austrian and I bore the discomforts of the situation as philosophically as we could. We smoked always, and we read and played bezique alternately, but our mercurial French friends were less happy, and on the third day of this detestable weather, on entering the little smoking-room on deck, I discovered them both sitting in tears, and bewailing the fact that they were not at home with their mothers. I laughed so much at their distress that a coolness sprang up between us which lasted for several days.

Once, indeed, as I find noted in my memorandum-book, the young Frenchmen revived. It was at one of the stations at which we called. We saw a large group of people, including several young women, gathered in front of a building that looked half-church, half-schoolhouse. The Parisians insisted that they had assembled in our honour; for, as a matter of fact, they looked upon themselves as being engaged in a desperate and most heroic enterprise. Accordingly, as we approached the wharf, they brought out their pocket handkerchiefs, and, waving them wildly, uttered loud shouts of greeting. To their great chagrin, not the slightest notice was taken of them. They redoubled their efforts to attract attention, but neither man nor woman moved a head. Then one of the officers came along, and drily informed the Frenchmen that the object of their demonstrations was a funeral party!

I had many other amusing experiences during this little trip, and feel strongly tempted to inflict upon my readers some extracts from the diary which I kept during the voyage. But nowadays everybody has been to the North Cape, and we have all seen the midnight sun. I think I saw it, and the wonderful scenery of the Lofoten Islands, in my little Norwegian cargo-boat, under far more favourable auspices than my successors who have travelled in great tourist steamers, surrounded by all the luxuries that are now supplied to the passengers on the large Atlantic and Mediterranean liners. Certainly, one saw something of the people, as well as of the country, when travelling in this modest fashion; and I still have the most pleasant recollection of these friendly Norwegians and of the glorious fiords and mountains of the Far North. But that which entitles this trip of mine to a special place in these reminiscences of a journalist is the fact that it cut me off from all connection with affairs in England at the very moment when those affairs became unexpectedly interesting.

I had left Hull on the 2nd of June, and after parting from my chance companions of the Eldorado, had not seen a single Englishman, or heard a scrap of English news, until I found myself at Tromsoe, within the Arctic circle, on June 17th. The captain of my vessel, knowing that I wanted to hear what was going on at home, drew my attention to the fact that a steam collier from Leith had just arrived in Tromsoe Harbour, and suggested that I should go on board and get the latest newspapers. Accordingly, I went off in one of the ship's boats to the grimy collier. It was eleven p.m., but the sun was shining brilliantly. For some time I hailed the vessel in vain, but at last a black-faced man who was manifestly one of the officers thrust his head through a port and asked what I wanted. I told him that I had come to see if he had any newspapers from home. "I will go and see," he said, in a strong Glasgow dialect, and presently he returned with a copy of the Glasgow Mail of June 3rd, and threw it down to me. I was disappointed that he had nothing of a later date, and after thanking him for his kindness was returning to my own steamer, when a sudden thought occurred to me, and I said, "Have you heard any news later than this?" holding up the newspaper. He considered for a moment, then shook his head reflectively, and said, "Na, I've heard naething later." So again I started on my way to the ship. I had not gone more than a yard or two when I heard him calling to me loudly. Once more I put back. "I forgot to tell ye that they've kicked oot that blasted auld deevil, Gladstone." "What!" I exclaimed, in incredulous horror. "Kicked out Mr. Gladstone! What do you mean?" "I mean that they've kicked him oot of office, and a d——d good job, too."

I fairly gasped for breath as I heard the astonishing news. Here was I, the editor of an English daily newspaper, away up in the Arctic circle, separated by days of travel from newspapers or means of getting news, and I suddenly heard this startling piece of intelligence. I could not credit it, and eagerly asked for further particulars. But the old tar could tell me nothing more. He could only persist in affirming and reaffirming his conviction that Mr. Gladstone's loss of office was the best thing that could have happened to the country. And this was the end of the great Ministry of 1880, for the formation of which I had worked so hard, and which I had so constantly and ardently supported with my pen! I went back to the Kong Halfdan much excited, and rushing to the captain told him that I must go back to England at once. He heard my news and sympathised with my dilemma, but assured me that the earliest mode of returning to Trondhjem would be by sticking to his ship. I went ashore, and made further inquiries, only to have the captain's statement confirmed; so, willy-nilly, I had to go on to the North Cape, bitterly conscious of the fact that I ought to have been at my post at Leeds. But a man in a hurry is always the victim of circumstances, and there was nothing for it but to possess my soul in patience. How eagerly I looked for further news! It was not, however, until several days later that, on returning to Tromsoe, I found a mail-steamer going north, and saw an unmistakable Englishman on the deck, whom I immediately accosted with a request for information. All he could tell me was that Mr. Gladstone had resigned on the 12th of June, and that Lord Salisbury on the next day had been hastily summoned by the Queen to Balmoral and had accepted office. From Trondhjem I made hot haste by rail to Christiania, and taking the first steamer for Hull, which to me seemed to make haste slowly, returned to my own country to face the unexpected fact that a great political revolution had suddenly occurred, and that the Tories were once more in power.



INDEX.

A

Addison Road North, Author's residence in. Adullamites. Albrecht, Archduke, Author's visit to estate of. American Civil War, Conclusion of. Armstrong, Lord, as a solicitor at Newcastle-upon-Tyne; as president of British Association. Arundel Club in 1868. Aurora Borealis in 1870. Ayrton, Mr., Attack of, on Queen Victoria.

B

Baines, Edward, founder of Leeds Mercury. Baines, Frederick. Baines, Matthew Talbot, M.P. Baines, Sir Edward, at battle of Peterloo; M.P. for Leeds; Knighted; visits author in Reporters' Gallery; and loss of ship Captain; defeated as Parliamentary candidate at Leeds; and Leeds Caucus. Baines, Thomas Blackburn, resigns editorship of Leeds Mercury. Baring, Walter, and Bulgarian atrocities of 1876. Barran, Sir John. Barrett, Fenian, Execution of; Bathgate, Rev. William, D.D., author's brother-in-law, Death of. Baxter, W. E., as Secretary to Admiralty. Beaconsfield, Lord, (see Disraeli, Benjamin). Berlin Congress in 1878. Berry, Miss Louisa. Bertram, Mr., Death of. Berwick-upon-Tweed Station in 1850. Birmingham Caucus, Formation of, (see also Caucus). Black, John, journalist. Black, William, joins staff of Leeds Mercury; his loyalty to friends; his house in Camberwell Road; stories about his books; his sympathy with art; at Century Club; his chivalrous character; on sad endings of novels; his first visit to Leeds; his failure as a speaker. Boundary Commission for electoral divisions. Bow Street Police Court in 1867. Bradfield, Bursting of reservoir dam at. Bradford Caucus and W. E. Forster. Brett, Police-sergeant, Murder of. "Briefs and Papers,". Bright, John, at Blackburn in 1865; at reform demonstrations in 1866; his last reform speech in 1866; champions Queen Victoria; and Cave of Adullam; appeals for life of Barrett, the Fenian. British Association at Newcastle (1863). Broadley, Mr. A. M., at Tunis. Brofft's Hotel, Bucharest. Bronte, Charlotte, Mrs. Gaskell's Life of; author's monograph on; her attractiveness; (see also Haworth). Bronte, Emily, Author's lecture on. Bronte literature, Author's contributions to. Bruce, Dr. Collingwood. Bruce's Licensing Bill, Introduction of. Buccleuch, Duke of, and Disraeli. Bucharest in 1878, extortionate charges at. Bulgarian atrocities of 1876, Excitement caused by; their effect upon our domestic politics. Burdett-Coutts, Baroness, and reform demonstrators. Burke, T.H., Assassination of, in Phoenix Park. Burke and Casey, Fenian prisoners.

C

"Cabinet Portraits," Author's. Captain, Loss of the. Casey and Burke, Fenian prisoners. Carey, James, informer. Carlton Club, Overlooked meeting at. Carlyle at Fryston, his remark to Monckton Milnes on pension for Tennyson. Carter, Mr., M.P. for Leeds. Cattle plague in 1865. Caucus, Plan of Liberal, its effect upon Liberalism; (see also Birmingham and Bradford). "Cave of Adullam," Morning Star and. Cavendish, Lord Frederick, Assassination of. Central Liberal Association, Plan of. Century Club, author nearly poisoned at. Chamberlain, Mr. Austen, Mr. Gladstone's reference to speech of. Chamberlain, the Right Hon. Joseph, affected by Mr. Gladstone's reference to his son; defeated Parliamentary candidate at Sheffield; his dislike of W.E. Forster; ruling spirit of Caucus; and W.E. Forster; his brothers blackballed at Reform Club; resigns membership of Reform Club; intrigues of; his Socialistic Radicalism. Chambers's Journal, Author's contributions to. Chester, Fenians at (1866). Cholera at Newcastle. Clerkenwell House of Detention, Fenian outrage at. Club Life in London in 1868. Coles, Captain Cowper, Death of. Commons, House of, Author's first visit to; its Parliamentary reporters in 1867; autumn session of 1867; gladiatorial combats of Disraeli and Gladstone in 1868; dynamite outrage at; (see also Parliament). Congress at Berlin in 1878. Constituencies, Creation of single-member; cumulative vote in large. Conversation Club at Leeds. Cooke, Mr. W.H. Cotton famine in 1864. Coulson, miner, Heroism of. Cowen, Joseph, Reminiscences of, and Mr. Stead. Cross, Miss Emily, actress. Cumulative vote in large School Board constituencies.

D

Daily News and Bulgarian atrocities of 1876. Danube, Journey down (1878). Davis, Mr. E.D., actor. Derby, Earl of (13th), on Irish Church. Derby, Earl of (14th), Memories of. Devonshire Club. Dickens, Charles, at Newcastle; author's leader on death of. Disraeli, Benjamin, affected by Mr. Gladstone's allusion to illness of Mrs. Disraeli; on Irish Church in 1868; his contemptuous treatment of an assailant; Tory dislike of him in 1868; author's personal encounter with; and Bulgarian atrocities of 1876; his triumph in 1878; his power of playing to the gallery; at Berlin Congress. Donald, Robert, journalist. Dynamite outrages.

E

Education Act, Passing of. Edwards, Mr., Parliamentary reporter. Elections, General (see General Elections). Elton, Mr. Charles. Executions, Memories of public; of Barrett, the Fenian. Exhibition of 1862, Opening of.

F

Fawcett, Henry, at Century Club. Fenians, Execution of Barrett; at Chester in 1866; outrage at Clerkenwell House of Detention; at Manchester. Flogging of garrotters. Forster, Mrs. W. E. Forster, Sir Charles. Forster, W. E., Description of; on Lord Houghton; Radical hostility against; suggested as Liberal leader; his struggles with Bradford Caucus; on Mr. Stead; and Mr. Joseph Chamberlain; is defended by Leeds Mercury; his resignation of office in 1882; on assassination of Lord Frederick Cavendish; author at residence of; pioneer of Liberal Imperialism; his political courage; home life; plots against his life; his speech at Bradford; and fate of General Gordon; attends Household Suffrage demonstration at Leeds; and Boundary Commission; under police protection; and Lord Hartington; founder of the Imperial Federation League; meets with an accident. Fothergill, Mr., clerk in the W.B. Lead office. Franchise Bill of 1884. Franco-German war, Recollections of. Fryston, Lord Houghton's seat, Author at.

G

Galway, Lady, Dinner party given by. Gambetta, M., his oration in 1877; funeral of. Garrotters, Flogging of. Gaskell's, Mrs., Life of Charlotte Bronte. General Election of 1868, of 1874; of 1880. Germany, Commercial enterprise of. Gladstone, Mr. Herbert, elected for Leeds. Gladstone, Mr. Robertson, at Preston. Gladstone, Mrs., and author. Gladstone, W. E., at Newcastle in 1862; appearance of; at Manchester in 1865; his courtesy in debate; his attacks on Disraeli in 1868; his Parliamentary colleagues in 1868; and dissolution of Parliament in 1874; resigns leadership of Liberal party; intrigues against; on Bulgarian atrocities of 1876; unpopular with his party in 1879; decides to contest Midlothian; people's admiration for (1880); his election at Leeds; elected for Midlothian; at Leeds in 1881; his sympathy with social outcasts; and death of General Gordon; denies compromise with Lord Salisbury on Household Suffrage Bill; under police protection; his resignation in 1885. "Gladys Fane," author's novel. Glasgow Herald, Author's overtures to. Golf, past and present. Gordon, General, W. E. Forster on fate of Granger, Richard, and Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Grant-Duff, Mr. (afterwards Sir) Mountstuart, attacks Disraeli. Granville, Lord, at Exhibition of 1862, his relations with Mr. Gladstone. Great Exhibition of 1862, Opening of. Greig, Mr., tours with author. Grove, Sir George, editor of Macmillan's Magazine.

H

Harcourt, Sir William, his futile attack on Mr. Gladstone in 1878. receives news of assassination of Lord Frederick Cavendish and Mr. Burke. Harte, Bret, visits Haworth. Hartington, Marquis of, elected leader of Liberal party; and W.E. Forster; sympathy with him on night of Phoenix Park murders. Hartley New Pit, Disaster at. Haworth, Author's visit to, Bret Harte's visit to. Heger, M., Influence over Charlotte Bronte of. Houghton, Lord, Geniality of; author's indebtedness to; on Lord Rosebery; on Mr. Gladstone; as poet; as host; his tolerance in matters of faith; death of; last occasion on which author dined with him. Household Suffrage Bill (1867), Passing of. Household Suffrage Bill (1884), Passing of. Household Suffrage demonstration at Leeds. Household Suffrage Parliament, Opening of (1868). House of Commons (see Commons, House of). House of Lords (see Lords, House of). Hungary in 1878. Hunter, Mr. Colin, A.R.A. Hyde Park in 1862.

I

Imperial Federation League, Foundation of. Innes, Mr., Exhortation to author by. Invincibles, Plots of the Irish. Irish Church Bill, Debates on.

J

Jackson, Mr. W.L., elected M.P. for Leeds. Jeffcock,—, engineer, Heroism of. Joicey, Sir James. Journalism of the 'sixties; birth of the New. Journalism, Provincial, in 1870.

K

Kingsley, Charles, his reply to author's request for books. Kitson, Sir James. Kossuth, Louis, Visit of, to Newcastle-upon-Tyne. "Kroumirs" in Algeria.

L

Labouchere, Mr. Henry, as war correspondent. Lambert, Sir John, Chairman of Boundary Commission. Lancashire cotton famine in 1864. "Land of the Bey," Author's. Leech, John, Verisimilitude of street scenes of. Leeds: Characteristics of its inhabitants, parliamentary election in 1874; its Caucus meeting; parliamentary election of 1880; author's influence in its Liberal Association; Mr. Gladstone's candidature for; its Conversation Club; Mr. Herbert Gladstone elected for; W.E. Gladstone at (1881); its Household Suffrage demonstration. Leeds Liberal Association and W.E. Forster. Leeds Mercury, Author joins staff of; author's duties on; and Sunday labour; its file; its history; its influence under Baines family; its exclusion of betting and theatrical news; author accepts editorship of; inaugurating a new era; on loss of Captain; supports educational policy of Forster; brought into line with London dailies; publishes early news of dissolution of Parliament in 1874; proposes candidature of Mr. Gladstone for Leeds; defends W.E. Forster; attempt to crush it; its office under police protection. Levy, Mr., owner of Daily Telegraph. Liberal Imperialist, W.E. Forster the first. Liberal Party, Its defeat in 1874; resignation of leadership by Mr. Gladstone; suggested leaders of; Lord Hartington leads; effect of Caucus upon; Caucus control of; between 1874-80; disruption of old. Licensing system, Permissive Bill and. Lincoln, Abraham, Effect of death of; author meets his granddaughter. Lion d'Or, Author on board of. London, Author's first visit to, its streets in 1862; its suburbs in 1867; its club life in 1868. Longley, Archbishop, replies to author's request for books. Lords, House of: Reporters in, debates on Disestablishment of Irish Church. Lowes, Mr., shorthand writer, appointed editor of Newcastle Journal. "Lumley Entail," author's novel.

M

Macdonell, James, journalist. Macmillan's Magazine, Author's contributions to. Madras College, St. Andrews, Author at. Magee, Bishop, on Irish Church Disestablishment Bill. Manchester, Fenian outrage at. Manchester Examiner, Author's overtures to. Manchester Guardian, Spirited management of. Manson, Mr., editor of Northern Daily Express. Marshall, Mr., proprietor of Northern Daily Express. Marston Moor, Author visits battlefield of. Mathers, Mr., secretary of Leeds Liberal Association. Mazzini, Giuseppe, Visit of, to Newcastle-upon-Tyne. McLennan, Mr. J.F. Midlothian, Mr. Gladstone decides to contest; the election (1880). Milan, Author "in pawn" at. Milnes-Gaskell, Mr., at Thorns. Milnes, Monckton (see Houghton, Lord). Mohacs (Hungary) in 1878. Morley, Mr. John, author and; at Leeds Household Suffrage demonstration; and Mr. Stead. Morning Star, Author occasionally reports for, its report of John Bright's reference to Cave of Adullam. Mudford, Mr., of Standard, as Parliamentary reporter; Mr. Gladstone's opinion of.

N

Napoleon III., Death of. Napoleon, Prince. National Liberal Federation, Origin of. Newcastle-upon-Tyne, in 1842, Percy Street Academy; cholera at; its great fire in 1854; author's West End Literary Institute; British Association at (1863). Newcastle Journal, Author on staff of. Nicholls, Mr., husband of Charlotte Bronte. North American Review on author's "Charlotte Bronte,". Northern Daily Express, Author's first contribution; description of. Norway, Author's visit to. Novel-writing, Author on. Novikoff, Madame, and Mr. Stead. Nussey, Miss, Memories of.

O

Oaks Pit, Explosions at. Orsini, Felice, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Paris, Recollections of siege of, Communist rising of 1871; in September, 1871; in 1877. Parliamentary Reform Demonstration in 1866. Parliamentary trains in 1862. Parliament, Opening of Household Suffrage, its debates of 1869; possibilities of reporter in; its dissolution in 1874; its dissolution in 1880; stories of its reporters in 1867, (see also Commons, House of, and Lords, House of). Parnell, C.S., and W.E. Forster. Payn, James, Author's first interview with; his laugh; his sense of humour; his aversion to dining out. Payne, Howard, Grave of, at Tunis. Pears, Mr. Edwin, and Bulgarian atrocities of 1876. Percy Street Academy, Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Permissive Bill, Licensing system and. Peterloo, "Battle" of. Phoenix Park murders. Piccadilly Circus in 1862. Piccadilly, French Imperialists in. Pollock, Sir Frederick. Postance, Rev. Henry. Potter, Mr. Tom, at Century Club. Press, The (see Journalism and Reporters). "Press-gang" at the Reform Club. Preston, Description of. Preston Guardian, Author joins staff of. Prince Consort, Death of. Prince Imperial, burial of. Prince of Wales (afterwards Edward VII.), in Upper Teesdale; illness of; thanksgiving service at St. Paul's for recovery of. Punch, London street scenery in.

R

Reade, Mr., Consul-General at Tunis. Reform Club, Author elected member of, in 1878; "press-gang" at; excitement upon news of Phoenix Park murders; Mr. Chamberlain's brothers blackballed; proposal to abolish blackballing; Mr. Chamberlain resigns membership. Reform demonstrations in 1866. Reid, Alexander, brother of author. Reid, Eleanor, daughter of author. Reid, James, brother of author, Death of. Reid, John Paul, brother of author. Reid, Mrs., author's first wife, her marriage; death. Reid, Mrs. (Lady), author's second wife. Reid, Mrs., mother of author, love of literature; death of. Reid, Rev. Alexander, father of author, his interest in public affairs. Reid, Stuart J., brother of author. Reid, Thomas Wemyss (Sir Wemyss), Parentage and ancestry of; year of birth; earliest recollections; at St. Andrews in 1850; first connection with printing office; at Madras College; has attack of brain fever; returns home; at Tynemouth; at Whitley; in peril of housebreakers; at Dr. Collingwood Bruce's school; youthful literary aspirations; junior clerk at W.B. Lead office; his first contribution to Press; makes acquaintance with newspaper work; learns shorthand; founds "West End Literary Institute,"; appointed chief reporter on Newcastle Journal; experiences as reporter; first attempt at leader-writing; meets with accident at a Dickens reading; first visit to London; resigns reportership on Newcastle Journal; at public executions; joins staff of Preston Guardian; his experience at a commercial dinner; his studious habits; newspaper experiences at Preston; joins staff of Leeds Mercury; his newspaper duties; as a leader-writer; his Imperialism; reporting reminiscences; appointed London correspondent; his first marriage; admitted to Reporters' Gallery; first experience of London club life; contributes to magazines; his first novel, "Lumley Entail,"; has personal encounter with Disraeli; obtains original and authentic parliamentary news; death of his first wife; accepts editorship of Leeds Mercury; forms good resolutions; changes editorial system; settles in Leeds; visits to Fryston; his first Continental tour; is denounced by advanced Radicals; on drink question; his second marriage; brings Leeds Mercury into line with London dailies; protests against Caucus system; his contributions to Bronte literature; elected member of Savile Club; in Paris in 1877; elected member of Reform Club; at London clubs in 1878; nearly poisoned at Century Club; tours through Europe; injures his knee; on board Sidon; travels from Constantinople by overland route; his influence in the Leeds Liberal Caucus; proposes candidature of Mr. Gladstone for Leeds; sends out tickets for Mr. Gladstone's banquet at Leeds; at Tunis; and Mr. Stead; defends W. E. Forster; on novel-writing; overlooks Carlton Club meeting; suggested police protection for; visits Tangier; visits Norway; Reporters, Duties of newspaper; stories of Parliamentary; possibilities of Parliamentary. Reservoir dam, Bursting of Bradfield. Riddell, Mrs., novelist, Reminiscences of. Robinson, Sir John, editor of Daily News. Rosebery, Earl of, Lord Houghton on; and W. E. Forster. Ross, Mr., head of Times Parliamentary corps. Royal Institution, Author's lecture on Charlotte Bronte at. Russell, Lord John, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Russell, Mr. Alexander, of Scotsman. Russell, Mr. Charles, editor of Glasgow Herald.

S

St. Andrews in 1850, its Sabbaths. St. Cloud in 1871. St. James's Hall, London, John Bright at; political meeting in 1876 at. St. James's Magazine, Author contributes to. St. Paul's Cathedral, Thanksgiving service for recovery of Prince of Wales in. Sala, G. A., Reminiscences of; his election to Reform Club; his encyclopaedic knowledge; on blackballing at clubs. Savile Club, Author elected member of. Schnadhorst, Mr., Character of. Shaw, Mr., Irish leader. Sheffield, Flooding of lower part of; Mr. J. Chamberlain's Parliamentary defeat in 1874. Shepard, Consul, at Haworth. Sidon, Author on board. Single-member constituencies, Creation of. Slingsby, Sir Charles, Death of. Sothern, E. A., Reminiscences of. Standard, The, Mr. Gladstone's opinion of. Stead, Mr. W. T., accepts editorship of Northern Echo; his theories on journalism; on Eastern Question; and Madame Novikoff; attacks Joseph Cowen; and author; on staff of Pall Mall Gazette; appointed editor of Pall Mall Gazette; his foreign politics. Stoddart, Mr., editor of Glasgow Weekly Herald. Swinburne, Mr., on author's "Charlotte Bronte,"; author's abortive visit to house of.

T

Tangier in 1884. Tay Bridge, Destruction of. Tennant, Mr., M.P. for Leeds in 1874. Thackeray, W. M., at Newcastle. Thanksgiving Service for recovery of Prince of Wales. Thatched House Club. Thirlwall, Bishop, on Irish Church Bill. Thornton, Miss Kate (see Reid, Mrs., author's first wife). Times, The, Use of its front page during siege of Paris; on loss of ship Captain. Toulmin, Mr., proprietor of Preston Guardian. Tower of London, Dynamite outrage at. Townsend, Mr. Charles, of Bristol. Trains, Parliamentary, in 1862. Trench, Archbishop, on Irish Church Bill. Tunis in 1881. Tynemouth about the 'forties. Tyne, River, in 1842.

U

United Kingdom Alliance, Policy of.

V

Venables, George, Recollections of. Versailles in 1871. Victoria, Queen, and John Bright.

W

W——, Captain, at Tangier. Washbourne, Dr., and Bulgarian atrocities of 1876. Weaving in 1850. Wemyss, Thomas, grandfather of author. Westbury, Lord, on Irish Church Bill. Westminster Hall, Dynamite outrage at. White, Sir William, at Bucharest. Whitley in 1849. Wilkes, Mr. Washington, Death of. Wombwell, Sir George, and Charge of Light Brigade; his narrow escape from drowning. Workman, English, in 1878. Wright, Mr., an official of the Reporters' Gallery in 1867.

Y

Yorkshire Club, Author at.

THE END