PLEASE NOTE: some of the historic newspaper stories I have included in this blog story contain words and attitudes which are now considered racist. They are artifacts of their time and are presented as such. This writer in no way agrees with them.
OUR LONDON LETTER.
ANGLO-COLONIAL NOTES. London, July 30.
ROBINSON CRUSOE THE SECOND. — HOW HE WAS DISCOVERED.
Considerable interest has not unnaturally been felt in the genesis of M. Louis De Rougemont, whose incredible adventures in Central Australia (or, rather, the northern, territory of South Australia) are commenced in this month's 'Wide World' magazine, and guaranteed veracious by the able editor of that periodical. Whether viewed as a tale-of-the-century Robinson Crusoe, or simply as an extra-special, gilt, edged, copper-bottomed, double-first liar of unique capabilities, M. De Rougemont, it must be confessed, is a phenomenon. How Australia's editors, not to mention our precious Henniker, who saw him first, came to overlook such treasure trove in the way of "copy" I can't imagine — Perhaps Mr Heaton may have been struck, as I was when beginning the story, with the similarity of M. De Rougemont's adventures to those of Robinson Crusoe. A reader of that romance might possibly have, with some personal experience, vamped those opening chapters up. If so, the work has been capitally done, for the wealth of detail is remarkable. Mr Fitzgerald (editor of the magazine) thus describes discovering Rougemont:-
"About two mouths ago," said Mr Fitzgerald, "I was sitting here in Southampton street when there came a timid knock at the door. A man with a strangely weather- beaten face entered, and gave me a letter of introduction from Mr Henniker Heaton. He started to tell me his story, and before he had proceeded far I realised he had a remarkable story to tell. Ever since his return to civilisation he had been trying to get people to listen to his story; but on every side he met with complete scepticism. And when on his journey to this country from Australia the friendly captain laughed his story to scorn, he vowed he would never mention it to anyone again. I may mention that M. De Rougemont has already appeared before such eminent geographical experts as Dr J. Scott Keltic and Dr Hugh R. Mill, who have checked bis story by means of their unrivalled collection of latest reports, charts, and works of travel. These gentlemen are quite satisfied that not only is M. De Rougemont's narrative perfectly accurate, but that it is of the highest scientific value. M. De Rougemont, it seems, worked his passage from Australia. Proving a gentle and amiable fellow, with a record of unique adventure, be became quite a favorite with the rest of the crew; and when he was about to quit the ship the sailors got up a subscription for him, but he was too proud to accept it, and slipped away secretly and penniless into our vast City of London. For three weeks he was in dire straits, sleeping out at nights, and wandering despairingly by day through strange streets. He who, on a barren tract of sand, kept himself alive for two lonely years, came very near starvation in the heart of a great civilisation. He came to us worn out and almost hopeless. He knew nothing of the value of his story, and would have let us have it for a £5 note if we had wished. But the chief of the firm gave directions that he should have all the money he required, and no time was lost in putting bis story into form. He became a daily visitor at our offices, slowly describing the experiences of thirty years. A shorthand clerk took down everything he said, and in three weeks we had a fairly complete narrative. This narrative, I may add, will occupy several months in publication." -Evening Star, 7/9/1898.
NORTH AUSTRALIAN NATIVES.
LONDON, Sept. 11. At a meeting of the British Association, M. Louis de Rougemont read a paper describing the customs of natives in Northern Australia, amongst whom he lived for many years. The cautious introductory address of the President, Professor Crookes, aroused much comment. -Star, 12/9/1898.
A STORY OF ADVENTURES.
REMARKABLE EXPERIENCES IN AUSTRALIA.
Press Association — By Telegraph — Copyright LONDON, September 13. (Received Sept. 14, at 9.30 a.m)
At the British Association's meeting M. Rougemont read a second paper regarding his remarkable experiences in Northern Australia. He expressed the hope that he would be enabled to lead a prospecting expedition to districts in the interior of Australia which he believed to be rich in minerals and precious stones. Dr Forbes expressed himself as sceptical as to the genuineness of M. Rougemont's statements, but several other Australians present appeared to be convinced that he was justified in his assertions. Mr Luik, of Geelong, expressed surprise that M. Rougemont, in the course of his wanderings, had never struck the overland telegraph line.
At the British Association's meeting M. Rougemont read a second paper regarding his remarkable experiences in Northern Australia. He expressed the hope that he would be enabled to lead a prospecting expedition to districts in the interior of Australia which he believed to be rich in minerals and precious stones. Dr Forbes expressed himself as sceptical as to the genuineness of M. Rougemont's statements, but several other Australians present appeared to be convinced that he was justified in his assertions. Mr Luik, of Geelong, expressed surprise that M. Rougemont, in the course of his wanderings, had never struck the overland telegraph line.
SYDNEY, September 14. (Received Sept. 14, at 11.40 p.m.) M. de Rougemont, who read a couple of papers on Australian topics before the British Association, came into notoriety in Australian circles in London by the Munchausen-like articles now appearing in the "Wide World Magazine." He is believed to be identical with a Swiss named Grein who lived in Sydney and was regarded as eccentric. It is also stated that he spent some time in New Zealand.
The first portion of the true story of M. Louis de Rougemont's adventures is given in the August number of "The World Wide Magazine," which came to hand yesterday, and on reading this, it is not surprising that some doubt was expressed by the members present at the meeting of the British Association. M. de Rougemont was born in Paris and educated in Switzerland. Away back in the sixties he went pearling with a Dutchman in the South Seas, and was wrecked upon a desert island in the Sea of Timor. The island turned out to be but a mere spit of sand, and on this desolate waste M. de Rougemont lived for two and a-half years. His next residence, though happier, was not a very great improvement on his former one. For a quarter of a century he dwelt on the Australian main among the cannibal blacks. His life and adventures in this out-of-the-way region will also form a portion of the narrative. It is stated that to test the account of his story M. de Rougemont appeared before such eminent geographical experts as Dr Scott-Keltie and Dr Hugh R. Mill. With all the means at their command these specialists checked M. de Rougemont's story, and are said to be quite satisfied that not only is the traveller's narrative accurate, but also that it is of high scientific value. -Otago Daily Times, 15/9/1898.
The Frenchman Louis de Rougemont, whose name has been prominently before the public lately as author of two papers read at a meeting of the British Association, was in Wellington at the time of the wreck of the Tasmania. He claimed to be the inventor of a diving bell, which he was particularly anxious should be used with the object of recovering the,mails and specie from the sunken vessel. -Oamaru Mail, 17/9/1898.
In the story of his adventures with which M Louis de Rougemont is creating a sensation in England, the returned Frenchman states that with four blacks he made a voyage of 1500 miles in a frail canoe, the journey lasting 18 months, at the end of which time the navigators found themselves back at the point from which they started. He claims to have discovered the lost explorer, Gibson, in Central Australia, and alleges that he found two English girls as the wives of a cannibal chief. -Otago Daily Times, 20/9/1898.
DE ROUGEMONT IDENTIFIED.
[Press association.] Sydney, 20th September. There is but little doubt that M. Louis de Rougemont, who lately contributed to the Wide World Magazine sensational articles about personal adventure when exploring in Australia, and who also presented papers of like tone to the British Association, is identical with Henri Grien, a late resident of Sydney, who some years ago spent his time in the South Seas and Torres Straits fisheries. Grien used to recount thrilling tales of his adventures to his children, one of whom bears the name of Cecil de Rougemont Grien. His wife recently received a letter from her brother-in-law in Switzerland, staling that her husband was then spending his holiday in that country. The wife has identified a portrait in the Wide World Magazine as that of her husband.
The portrait of M. Louis de Rougemont published in the London journals bears a strong likeness to a gentleman who spent some time in Wellington at the end of last and the beginning of this year. He was known in this city by the name of Grieg or Grien — one could hardly say which of the two names he uttered — and he spoke of himself as an artist with a family in Sydney. It was understood that he was living apart from his wife. When in Wellington he was an ardent spiritualist, and was said to be a strong "medium." May not this account for his wonderful tales of adventure now appearing in the Wide World Magazine? Are not "inspirational" tales as possible as lectures out of the mouths of "mediums?" Grien was a well-informed man, of lively manner and rather delicate health, but so far as we have heard did not tell those wondrous tales of dangers of flood and field with which the name of Rougemont is now connected. -Evening Post, 21/9/1898.
LOUIS BE ROUGEMONT.
THE WILD MAN OF THE WOODS INTERVIEWED,
AND TELLS A CURIOUS STORY
(From Our Special Correspondent.)
LONDON, August 13, 1898,
The general opinion with regard to the up-to-date Robinson Crusoe (Louis de Rougemont), whom Mr Fitzgerald of the 'Wide World Magazine' is exploiting, seems to be that he really has had some adventures, and that his narrative — with the aid of Defoe, Hermann Melville, and a luxuriant imagination — simply improves upon them. No one who has read 'Typie' and 'Omoo' — difficult to get nowadays — could possibly help being struck with the similarity of certain incidents. Mr de Rougemont was yesterday interviewed by the 'Daily News,' and gives that journal a strictly authorised version of his adventure. The operator says:—
Charles Reade would have revelled in Louis de Rougemont, whose adventures are now the talk of the town. That novelist did himself drop a hero and heroine upon a lovely South Sea island, overflowing with tropical milk and honey, where they lived in a pearl-lined cave. So, too, did this De Rougemont. But his island was a miserably sandy atoll in the Timor Seas, which wash the north shores of Western Australia. When little more than a boy be found himself with a few hundred dollars, joined forces with the Dutch skipper of a small schooner and went pearling. They were very lucky, and had made their pile when
THREE PRICELESS BLACK PEARLS
were discovered amongst the shells. Where there are three there may be hundreds. Though the annual cyclones were due and it was time for the ship to be off, the mad Dutchman declined to budge from these happy hunting grounds. Then came the tempest, and drove the ship, crew, captain, and De Rougemont ashore. He and his dog alone were saved. When they came to their senses they found themselves on that miserable atoll, which a high sea could wash over, and did at times, for the land was not more than a few feet above the level of the water.
TWO YEARS ON AN ATOLL.
Imagine a ring of sand a hundred yards or so across; dump the man and dog upon it and you have the situation. But at low water the man was able to get to the wreck, and get out of it water, stores, and so forth, just like poor Robinson Crusoe. With the pearl shells he built himself a house, and fed on the fish and flesh, of which Nature kindly yielded a plentiful supply. The atoll was a nesting ground for sea birds. Of their eggs they ate; and when the birds went a fishing to feed their young and themselves, the man levied tribute on the distended pouches. What impunity man develops in stressful times! Turtles, too, visited the atoll, and provided them with a change of food which was most agreeable. As for water, the schooner's casks supplied them with it: and during the rains they were refilled. Moreover, Rougemont distilled the sea in his kettle. He just lapped a bit of blanket round the spout, made a fire, and let the vapour hiss into the wool and squeeze the goodly liquor into his vessels.
Crusoe notched a stake for the days. Rougemont made himself an almanac of pearl shells. Thus, then, did he pass two long years upon that tiny speck of land, ever peering out across the shimmering ocean for sail or signs of man. But for his dog he would have died. The depression, especially in the fierce heat of noon, was terrible. Often he waded out towards the deep, yet always waded back — to life —to his dog. Out of the wreck he built himself a cockle-shell of a boat. That was wrecked in the launching. Then one day a, catamaran hove in sight, and in it were blacks who had been driven out to sea from the mainland. At last relief had come. The blacks, the white man, and the dog put the cockle-shell to rights, embarked, and put to sea, and in time made the main at a point which, roughly speaking, is the north-west boundary between West Australia and South Australia. And now began the remarkable thirty years de Rougemont spent amongst the cannibals who inhabit this remote corner of the globe.
THIRTY YEARS AMONG AUSTRALIAN BLACKS.
One by one his endeavours to reach civilisation were baffled, and slowly he drifted into the savage state himself. Let us not pity him. Let us not despise the savage, who, though a cannibal, eats not for the gratification of the appetite, but to acquire the prowess of his departed brother. At least the wild man (if he does not knock you on the head) is a hospitable, sociable fellow. He gives you wives, temporary or otherwise; he teaches you woodcraft, the art of finding your meat, and a hundred other accomplishments. Rougemont sighs when he talks of his old friends, and sotto voce compares the cold stones of London Town, the jarring roar or ceaseless traffic, the hard faces of the hurrying multitudes — each one thinking of itself — with the plenty, peace, silence, and manifold beauties of the wilds. Dig, you find the root so sweet and juicy; climb, you catch the possum; hunt, you catch the kangaroo; let fly the arrow, you bring down the birds of the air; fire the bush, you have the snakes tender and foul-like. The bees store their honey in the woods; the juicy maggot is a delicacy which would send a gourmet of the cities into raptures. No postman knocks in the wilds; no telegraph messenger disturbs your peace; no news comes; the only books are in the heavens above. Fire and heat the sun gives; the stars are compass and sextant. No one wears clothes. There is no rent to pay —heavens! what a life! What a Paradise! Rousseau was right. The wilds and lovely Nature for us — after an hour of Rougemont.
EXPERIENCE IN LONDON.
After thirty years he has come back to civilisation, and is now a lion. But I venture to believe that he will wish himself back again, and at peace in the beautiful forests and silvery streams or North-West Australia which he describes with such evident affection. But he landed in London with a few shillings in his pocket, having stoked his way like a man on a liner. They soon went. Then hither and thither he tramped, trying to find work; trying to find a friend in this cruel London. By a series of chances he at length fell into the hands of Mr Fitzgerald, the editor of the 'Wide World Magazine.' We know the rest. Louis de Rougemont's name is now in every paper throughout the land. He is to read papers before the British Association; geographers are at his feet, anthropologists, lore folk — all eager for a wrinkle. He is 54, of middle height, square built, bronzed, hair grizzled, with deep lines in neck, hands, brow, which are eloquent of a life in the wilds. The dialects of the cannibal tribes with whom he lived trip easiest from his tongue, and though a Genevese he speaks English better than French. Indeed, when he emerged from the wilderness and sought help from the French Consul in Melbourne, he found he had nearly forgotten his native language, and doubts were cast on his story. I asked him to explain. His reply was that he always conversed with his native wife in English, as that language was universal in Australia, and hence they would both be linguistically equipped if they ever got to civilised communities again.
A GOOD WORD FOR THE BLACKS.
But to go back to the beginning—that is, 30 years ago. He spends two awful years in his atoll with his dog; he escapes with the blacks to the mainland at Cambridge Gulf and Queen's Channel, and there he takes up his abode for a few months. The country he describes as splendid; food in abundance, water and flowing streams; forests; plains all inhabited by many tribes of a fine race of blacks. De Rougemont natives are not the degraded creatures, less than human, with whom books of travel have familiarised us. They are, he says, of fine races, intelligent, lively, great sportsmen worshipping physical prowess, believing in a future life, devoted to war, with many strange and curious customs which it will be his business to describe in the course of the remarkable story of his adventures. There may be a Malayan strain in those hitherto unheard of peoples; at all events, they are certainly as the Australian black we meet with in books. By prowess and many deeds of valour and activity poor de Rougemont managed to gain a conspicuous place in their counsels. Another man of less resources would have been clubbed and eaten in 24 hours. Not so this Genevese Ulysses. He had arts by the dozen. Now, he gratified their love of amusement by turning somersaults, at which he was luckily an expert. Then, he stole out in the bush at night, and with reeds made weird and wailing minors which put the fear of God into their superstitious hearts. He did not say whether he ever worked the eclipse business as other castaways have done. Probably not, as he had not almanac or print of any sort, and had lost the count of days. 'What year is it,' said this poor Crusoe of the land to the first white man he encountered for 30 years. 'What year is it?' Then the man turned to his friends — they were prospectors — tapped his forehead and murmured — 'Mad, mad.' That by the way. So he found favour in the eyes of the tribes, fought with them, led them into battle, became an adept with shield and spear, went naked as they did, having no clothes, got himself a plume from the lyre bird, grew darker and darker, married a wife — in short, became a wild man. But not all at once. Our Orson, still
YEARNING FOR CIVILISATION,
his lady pointing to the east, said that she had heard that white men were to be found in that direction. So the two set out to find them, and marched and marched by star, by sun, by a thousand signs of nature, which the tribes read as in a book, until they came to the ocean once more. It was the great Gulf of Carpentaria. De Rougemont mistook it for the Coral Sea in the South Pacific. He made a day out, and with his wife, coasted and coasted in search of the white man's settlement. After many adventures — would you believe it? — and 18 months' absence, the two found themselves back again at home.
ONE OF THOSE ADVENTURES
may be mentioned in passing, as showing the strange blend of romance with stern reality which gives a fascination to the lives of such Crusoes as de Rougemont. Whilst resting in a lonely, lovely inlet of these azure summer seas, they heard from some native Lechamel fishing of two white women whom a tribe had taken captive. With true French chivalry, Ulysses marched to the rescue, but found them in possession of the chief. The chief declined to part with the women who had been shipwrecked, so de Rougemont offered to fight him for them. A wrestling match was arranged the end of which was that the chief was slain, and the interesting captives taken away to the sea. Whilst reposing a ship hove in sight, and the whole party, overjoyed, sailed out to meet her, accompanied by canoes full of natives, halloing and shouting in their exhilaration. Alas! those signs were interpreted as a hostile demonstration, the ship sailed on, and the canoe in which was de Rougemont, his wife, and two white women was upset in the excitement. The unfortunate ladies were drowned.
FINAL WANDERINGS.
After these two attempts to escape to civilisation had failed, de Rougemont, as I have already hinted, settled down and became a wild man. Nevertheless, for ten years he wandered with his faithful companion over that vast wilderness, still hoping faintly. His great and final effort was a long journey from 15 deg. N. latitude to 25 deg., marching pretty near due south. At this point he encountered Giles' exploring expedition, which mistaking him for a savage, not unnaturally greeted him with a volley of lead. After that he gave up the attempt as really hopeless, returned to the North, and for 20 years remained on the lovely heights in the north territory of South Australia, about 22 deg. south of the line. Then his wife died, and on her death bed advised him to steer south west if he ever wished to see Christians again. He did, and came out at Coolgardie.
Civilisation has never, to the best of our knowledge, had the chance of studying such a strange history before. We are glad that in the interests of the adventure loving reader, the geographer, the scientist, alike, Orson's life is being written by Mr Fitzgerald, the editor who discovered him, or rather received him on Mr Henniker-Heaton's introduction. He is certainly making the most of him, and the best of him. His long absence notwithstanding, Mr de Rougemont is a most genial man, with wonderful memory. -Auckland Star, 23/9/1898.
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| Mary Evans Picture Library. |
M. LOUIS DE ROUGEMONT.
The cable news we published the other morning tends to throw further doubt upon M. Louis de Rougemont's story of his adventures in Australia, and unless he can offer strong proof of its truth, we are afraid we shall have to regard him, not as a combination of Robinson Crusoe and Buckley, the wild white man, rolled into one, but as one before whom all modern romancers must bow their heads. They at least have not had the honour of reading the manuscript of their gorgeous production before that august body, the British Association for the Advancement of Science. Readers of the "Wide World Magazine," in which this talented individual has begun to weave the glittering fabric of his experiences, will not need to be reminded of the extraordinary story he unfolds. Rider Haggard never conceived a bolder theme. It opens magnificently with the wreck of the pearl-laden vessel on a low sand-bank, and the saving of Rougemont, the only survivor, from drowning in the powerful undertow by his faithful dog, whose tail he held in his mouth and was thereby towed ashore — "what a dog, and what an under-tow," as an Australian contemporary respectfully ejaculates. These stirring incidents serve as the prelude to a series of incidents of the most thrilling character. Othello never charmed the ears of Desdemona with the recital of more perilous adventures than M. de Rougemont experienced. On this sandbank prison, a hundred yards long by ten yards wide, the modern Crusoe lived for more than two years. His hut was built of pearl-shells, piled one on the other, after the style, we suppose, of the grottoes London street children used to build of oyster shells — "An extraordinary undertaking," remarks a Melbourne paper, "seeing that the whole of the timbers of the ship were available for house-building. He even went to the trouble of growing wheat laboriously in turtle-shells in a soil made from a mixture of turtle's blood and sand, so that he could get thatch for his house, and having on board the ship a large quantity of New Guinea wood, which, when ignited, smouldered for hours, he was able, once getting a fire, to keep it alight for two and a half years." To keep his reason he addressed long sermons in a loud voice to his dog, which as it saved his life, was hardly the treatment the unfortunate animal deserved. He rode on turtle-back in the lagoon, guiding his strange steed by placing his toes in either eye, according to the direction in which he wished to go. He cut out the bottoms of condensed-milk tins, and scratching messages on them tied them round the necks of pelicans and sent them off as involuntary postmen — and this at a time when condensed milk was hardly known outside England and Switzerland. Subsequently he reached the mainland, and spent twenty-fire years among cannibal blacks. To say that his adventures during this period were marvellous is merely to demonstrate the inadequacy of the English language as a medium for description. Altogether his story, as an English paper says, is the most amazing one a man ever lived to tell, "and having regard to the advance of civilisation, it is extremely unlikely that any other white man will again have an opportunity of going through similar adventures." "Unlikely" hardly seems the right word. — Christchurch Press. -Wanganui Chronicle, 26/9/1898.
ROUGEMONT'S TALES.
ANOTHER STORY OF IDENTITY.
ROUGEMONT OR GREIN?
MRS GREIN IDENTIFIES HER HUSBAND.
A MAN OF MANY PARTS.
(From the Sydney 'Daily Telegraph.)
If a wife's identification of her husband by means of a photograph can be accepted as indisputable evidence, there seems no longer any room for doubt that M. de Rougemont, whose sensational experiences in Australia have caused so much excitement in England, is a Sydney man; that his name is Henri Louis Grein; that his wife and family actually reside in a Sydney suburb; and that he has simply adopted 'Louis de Rougemont' as his pen name. The interest occasioned by the articles published under Louis de Rougemont's name in the 'Wide World Magazine' has rapidly extended to Australia. Telegrams from all the colonies bear testimony on that point. In Sydney copies of the magazine have been eagerly bought up since particulars were first given in 'The Daily Telegraph.' The reproduction of M. de Rougemont's portrait brought dozens of gentlemen to the office of 'The Daily Telegraph' anxious to certify as to the writer's identity, and positively asserting that they had known him intimately in Sydney, though in most cases under widely different circumstances, but always by the name of Grein.
A representative of 'The Daily Telegraph' found Mrs Louis Grein, and one glance at the portrait produced convinced her that 'Louis de Rougemont' was her husband, from whom she has been separated for a year or two.
There could be no doubt, said Mrs Grein, that the portrait was that of her husband. Moreover, she had news that he was at the other side of the world, having last been heard of through his brother, a clergyman in Switzerland, who had written telling her that he had been informed of her separation from her husband, who had just been on a visit to him, at a place called Yverdon, and inquiring kindly as to the children. Nothing, however, was mentioned of Grein having been in London, or of his intending to go there, though the letter was dated July 5th of this year. Mrs Grein scouted the suggestion that the portrait might be that of someone very like her husband — a twin brother, for instance. She also gave a valid explanation of the assumption by Grein of the pen name of Rougemont. There were four children by the marriage. The eldest boy (De Courcey Grein) died about two or three years ago. The second son is named 'Cecil de Rougemont Grein,' after an old friend or distant relative of his father's. This fact would seem to establish the identity beyond doubt. Strangely enough, Mrs Grein was not surprised to learn, as she had through 'The Daily Telegraph,' that her husband had achieved notoriety. She was not able to say of her own knowledge that her husband had actually experienced all he claimed to have done in his story, but she knew that he had travelled a great deal. When she first met him in Sydney he was engaged in the pearl fishing industry, and owned a small vessel. He was fond of telling the children of his adventures, and she particularly remembers his stories about riding the turtles, and experiences among the blacks. On his body were marks, which he told her were inflicted by the spears of the blacks in the far north of Australia. Beyond his own statements, however, she has no direct knowledge of her husband's history previous to their marriage. They were married in 1883 by the Rev. Robert Colley, of Newtown. Grein was 47 years of age at the time. He would now, at that rate be 62. Mrs Grein, on her side, is well connected. Her father held a prominent public position in Queensland. A sister is married and living near Sydney. As stated last week, Mrs Grein has not seen her husband since he left her for New Zealand in May of last year, and then she only saw him in the street.
As to the many stories told by gentlemen in Sydney who called at 'The Daily Telegraph' to explain their connection with Grein, they at least prove him to have been a man of many parts. He was associated with a new patent deep sea diving dress, and was present at a trial down the harbour when an unfortunate diver died. He was interested in a patent garbage exterminator. He canvassed for orders for photographic enlargements, and is spoken of as himself being an artist above the average ability. Many amusing incidents are told of him in this connection. Another gentleman, who follows the profession of an assayer showed our representative a number of entries in his books, the earliest dating 10 years' back, when he had assayed valuable samples for Grein. He .remembers him well, as also the stories which he used to tell of hairbreadth encounters with the blacks 'up North,' and of his alleged discovery of a mountain of gold in the interior. Grein had a penchant for forming mining- syndicates, but they usually fell through before the hidden treasure got unearthed. In one case mentioned, the members of a syndicate sent Grein to report on 'a rich find,' which he had induced them to agree to work in North Queensland. Like the doves from the Ark, however, Grein did not return. Another man was sent in quest of Grein, and he, in turn, had to be inquired for. In the end, the syndicate lost money. The testimony is unanimous that Grein showed himself while in Sydney to be a clever, not to say adventurous, man. -Auckland Star, 26/9/1898.
"De Rougemont."
Some doubts having been expressed as to the strict accuracy of several of the incidents narrated by Louis de Rougemont to the Editor of the Wide World Magazine, we quote the following in order to show how slight are the grounds for disbelief in them, De Rougemont, when on his island, played the part of Neptune in a very extraordinary way. He says extraordinary — and it was so. "I used to wade out" he says "to where the turtles were, and on catching a big six hundred pounder, I would calmly sit astride on his back. Away would swim the startled creature mostly a foot or so below the surface. When he dived deeper I simply sat far back on the shell, and then he was forced to come up. I steered my queer steeds in a curious way. When I wanted the turtle to turn to the left, I simply thrust my foot in his right eye, and vice versa for the contrary direction. My two big toes placed simultaneously over both his optics caused a halt so abrupt as almost to unseat me." No man — even the editor of a magazine who would not accept at sight — no thirty days to think about it — a draft like that on his credulity, ought to be made a cook's mate on the river boat on the Styx. Then the way he grew corn. "I filled a large turtle shell with sand and a little clay, and thoroughly wetted the mixture in turtle's blood, then stirring the mass into a puddle and planting corn seeds in it. They quickly sprouted, and flourished so rapidly, that within a very short time I was able to transplant them — always however, nourishing them with the blood of turtles. This most satisfactory result induced me to extend my operations, and I soon had quaint little crops of blood sprinkled maize and wheat growing in huge turtle shells." Of course there are all sorts of British farmers and agriculturalists who will turn up their already tip tilted noses at this wrinkle given to them by an entire stranger, and a Frenchman at that, but a true blooded English Magazine man knows the truth when he sees it, and will tackle it even with one hand tied behind his back, farmers or no farmers. Truth is mighty and she will prevail, and it is the truth as spoken by M. Louis de Rougemont that "gets over us." -Fielding Star, 1/10/1898.
LOUIS DE ROUGEMONT'S YARNS.
(Received October 4,1 a.m.) London, October 3. Louis de Rougemont lectured at St. James Hall. He bared his arms to show there were no convict brands on them. Several Swiss merchants have written to the daily Chronicle that De Rougemont in May last, under the name of Grein, appealed for assistance as a destitute inventor and artist, and did not then mention his adventures. -Wairarapa Daily Times, 5/10/1898.
THE DREADED OCTOPUS.
An extract from "The Adventures of Louis De Rougemont," in the Wide World Magazine, being a narrative of the most amazing experiences a man ever lived to tell.
The greatest enemy the divers had to fear was the dreaded octopus, whose presence occasioned far greater panic than the appearance of a mere shark. These loathsome monsters would sometimes come and throw their horrible tentacles over the side of the frail craft from which the divers were working, and actually fasten on to the men themselves, dragging them out into the water. At other times octopuses have been known to attack divers down below, and hold them relentlessly under water until life was extinct. One of our own men had a terribly narrow escape from one of these fearful creatures. I must explain, however, that each evening when the divers returned from pearl fishing they roped all their little skiffs together and let them lie astern of the schooner. Well, one night the wind rose and rain fell heavily, with the result that next morning all the little boats were found more or less waterlogged. Some of the Malays were told off to go and bale them out. Whilst they were at work one of the men saw a mysterious-looking black object in the sea, which so attracted his curiosity that he dived overboard to find out what it was. He had barely reached the water, however, when an immense octopus rose into view, and at once made for the terrified man, who instantly saw his danger, and with great presence of mind promptly turned and scrambled back into the boat.
The terrible creature was after him, however, and to the horror of the onlookers it extended its great flexible tentacles, enveloped the entire boat, man and all, and then dragged the whole down under the crystal sea The diver's horrified comrades rushed to his assistance, and an attempt was made to kill the octopus with a harpoon, but without success. Several of his more resourceful companions then dived into the water with a big net made of rope, which they took right underneath the octopus, entangling the creature and its still living prey. The next step was to drag both man and octopus into the whaleboat, and this done, the unfortunate Malay was at length seized by his legs, and dragged by sheer force out of the frightful embrace, more dead than alive. However, we soon revived him by putting him in a very hot bath, the water being at such a temperature as actually to blister his skin. It is most remarkable that the man was not altogether drowned, as he had been held under water by the tentacles of the octopus for rather more than two minutes. But, like all the Malays of our party, this man carried a knife, which he used to very good purpose on the monster's body when first it dragged him under the water. These repeated stabs caused the creature to keep rolling about on the surface. The unhappy man was in this way enabled to get an occasional breath of air, otherwise he must infallibly have been drowned. The octopus had an oval body, and was provided with an extraordinary number of tentacles — six very large ones and many smaller ones of varying sizes. It was a horrible-looking creature, with a flat, slimy body, yellowish white in colour, with black spots, and a hideous cavity of a mouth, without teeth. It is the tentacles of the creature that are so dreaded, on account of the immense sucking power which they possess.
After this incident the divers always took a tomahawk with them on their expeditions, in order to lop off the tentacles of any octopus that might try to attack them. And, by the way, we saw many extraordinary creatures during our cruise. I myself had a serious fright one day whilst indulging in a swim. We had anchored in about five fathoms, and when I was proceeding leisurely away from the vessel a monstrous fish, fully 20ft long, with an enormous hairy head and fierce, fantastic moustaches, suddenly reared up out of the water high into the air. I must say that the sight absolutely unmanned me for the moment, and when this extraordinary creature opened his enormous mouth in my direction I gave myself up for lost. It did not molest me, however, and I got back to the ship safely, but it was some little time before I recovered from the terrible fright. Occasionally we were troubled with sharks, but the Malays did not appear to be very much afraid of them. On the contrary, our divers sought them. Their method of capturing sharks, by the way, was almost incredible in its simplicity and daring. Three or four of our divers would go out in a boat and allow themselves to drift into a big school of sharks. Then one man, possessed of more nerve than the rest, would bend over the side and sharply prick the first shark he came across with a spear taken out for the purpose. The moment he had succeeded in this the other occupants of the boat would commence yelling and howling at the top of their voices, at the same time beating the water with their paddles in order to frighten away the sharks. This invariably succeeded, but, amazing to relate, the shark that had been pricked always came back alone a few minutes later to sea what it was that pricked him. When he is seen coming in the direction of the boat, the Malay who has accosted him in this way quietly dives overboard, armed only with his small knife and a short stick of hard wood exactly like a butcher's skewer, about 5in in length, and pointed at each end. The man floats stationary on the surface of the sea, and naturally the shark makes for him. As the creature rolls over to bite, the wily Malay glides out of his way with a few deft strokes of his left hand, whilst with the right he deliberately plants the pointed skewer in an upright position between the open jaws of the expectant shark. The result is simple, but surprising. The shark is, of course unable to close his mouth, and the water just rushes down his throat and drowns him. Needless to remark, it requires the greatest possible coolness and nerve to kill a shark in this way, but the Malays look upon it as a favourite recreation and an exciting sport. When the monster is dead its slaver dexterously climbs on to its back saddlewise, and then, digging his knife into the shark's head to serve as a support and means of balance, the Malay uses his own legs as paddles and so rides the carcase, so to speak, back to the boat. -Otago Witness, 6/10/1898.
THE ROUGEMONT FABLE.
SECOND INSTALMENT OF HIS STORY
ADVENTURES AMONG CANNIBALS.
The pledge given by the editor of the 'Wide World Magazine' that Louis de Rougemont's narrative of adventures would prove 'the most amazing experiences a man ever lived to tell' is partially, if not completely, redeemed in the second instalment published in the September issue. M. Rougemont may or may not have drawn upon his imagination to adorn his tale of daring, privation, and peril — the reader can best judge of that fact for himself — but he is certainly indebted to the artist whose illustrations copiously interlard his narrative for much added realistic effect. The first instalment of his adventures left M. de Rougemont stranded on a sandbank island, his faithful dog alone bearing him company, with a raft or catamaran in sight, and making for land. The second chapter tells of the beaching of the catamaran. 'The prospect of having at length someone to converse with filled me with unutterable joy, and I could hardly restrain myself from rushing into the water and swimming out to the catamaran, which was still several hundred yards away. Would it never draw near? I thought, wild with impatience. And then, to my horror, I saw that it was closely followed by a number of sharks, who swam round and round it expectantly. Seeing this, I could contain myself no longer. Sternly commanding my dog not to follow me, I waded into the waves and swam boldly out to the catamaran, taking good care, however, as I swam, to make a great noise by shouting and splashing in order to frighten away the sharks. When eventually I did come up to the floating platform of logs, I found that there were four blacks upon it — a man, a woman, and two boys. All were lying quite prostrate through exhaustion, apparently more dead than alive. The sharks still hung on persistently, but at length I drove them away by beating the water with my oar, with which I paddled the catamaran ashore with all possible speed.' How the catamaran was beached and the blacks carried into Rougemont's pearl shell hut one by one; how he massaged their bodies, tied wet bandages round their necks, and rolled them about in wet sails, in the hope that in this way their bodies would absorb the necessary liquid, is all told in detail. The black woman henceforth becomes the heroine of the narrative, and played 'a vitally important part' in the whole of M. de Rougemont's life. The first thing which astonished these natives was when their rescuer donned his clothes, which 'they considered a part of myself — in fact, a kind of secondary skin.' Next he roused the father of the family from his sullen, moods with 'extraordinary acrobatic performances,' which 'also threw the two little nigger boys into hysterics of delight. Father, mother, and children tried to imitate my somersaults, "wheels," and contortions, but came to grief so desperately (once the morose man nearly broke his neck) that they soon gave it up. The man would sit and watch our gambols for hours without moving a muscle.' The idea of a white man teaching aboriginals acrobatic feats is distinctly funny. Then comes the story of M. de Rougemont's escape in an improvised open boat, along with his dusky companions, to the Australian mainland, where he fell in with aboriginal cannibals, became their chief, amused them in turn with tricks and contortions, was initiated into the mysteries of 'smoke telegraphy,' corroborees, and dining off such delicacies as kangaroo and opossum meat, rats, snakes, tree worms, and fish. Baked 'snake' was found to be 'a very pleasant dish indeed, but as there was no salt forthcoming, and the flesh was very tasteless, I cannot say I enjoyed this particular native dainty.' Reversing the experience of the first Robinson Crusoe, it was the white man's footprints that astonished these cannibals more than anything else. 'It seems,' says M. de Rougemont, 'that when they themselves walk they turn their feet sideways, so that they only make a half impression, so to speak, instead of a full footprint. On the other hand, I, of course, planted my feet squarely down, and this imprint in the sand was followed by a crowd of blacks, who gravely peered at every footprint, slapping themselves and clicking in amazement at the wonderful thing:' The narrator does not state what size boots he takes. That might explain some part of the aboriginal amazement in this connection. That part of the narrative which tells of M. de Rougemont's marriage with 'a young dusky maiden of pleasing appearance' will interest the gentler sex. The method of courtship is unique. A sensible substitute for costly Divorce Court proceedings is also suggested. De Rougemont was first approached in the matter by a 'mysterious deputation' of gaudy, feather-headed chiefs, bringing with them the lady whom they wished him to marry. They offered him a 'murderous-looking club,' known as a 'waddy,' and he, thinking, they desired him to kill the girl as a dainty meat offering for a cannibal feast, availed himself of the chance to preach a sermon to the savages against the sin of cannibalism. Explanations followed, and De Rougemont married the girl, but promptly exchanged her for the lady of the man he had brought with him in the boat from Sandbank Island. Whether or no they lived happily ever after will doubtless appear as the narrative develops. Much else is told about the daily delights and pursuits of this aboriginal nation. Mention is made of the clan's poet, who sold his effusions to other tribes. 'As there was no written language, the purchaser would simply be coached orally by the vendor poet, and as the blacks were gifted with marvellous memories, they would transmit and re-sell the songs throughout vast stretches of country.' -Auckland Star, 13/10/1898.
Rougemont's "Double."
His Career in Sydney.
A Detective's Discoveries.
With respect to Rougemont's "double," the Sydney correspondent of the Argus telegraphed the following to that journal a few day 3 ago: —
The weird stories told by Louis de Rougemont to the British scientists seem almost approached by his experiences while in this part of the world. The police authorities have been ferreting out information concerning him, and have pieced it together until they are now prepared to affirm that De Rougemont is identical with a Swiss named Grein, who figured in Sydney as a canvasser for photographic enlargements. At least a dozen persons aver that the two men are identical. Now Detective Rochaix has concluded further investigations which throw additional light on Grein's history prior to his marriage in 1882.
Detective Rochaix found, states the Evening News, that Grein was the owner and registered master of an eleven-ton cutter called the Ada, which he built at Fremantle, and registered at Perth. It is presumed that he engaged in the pearlfishing industry. In February, 1877, the vessel was posted as missing in the Sydney shipping office, but the fact remains that Grein turned up in Sydney shortly after the closing of the Garden Palace Exhibition. His first appearance was at a wine shop in King Street, kept by Gulirani Bros., who are at present fruit-growing at Ryde. He was recognised as a countryman by Adolphe Guymuller, who is now the proprietor of Adolphe's Cafe, in Hunter Street, Sydney. The pair met frequently, and Grein confided to his compatriot that he had been pearl-shelling in Torres Straits, and had contracted fever and ague. Further, he had lost his vessel and become penniless. Guymuller took pity on him, and when he appealed to him for employment gave him work in the kitchen at the Post Office Hotel, where he was then chef.
A fortnight of this employment, however, sufficed Grien, who told his friend that though he could stand the heat of a tropical sun, the atmosphere of the kitchen was too much, and that he must leave. Accordingly he severed his connection with the establishment, and for some little time nothing was known of him. However, he once more put in an appearance at the wine-shop, where he explained a project he had in view. This was no less than that of a pearling expedition to Torres Straits. Apparently he had obtained an undertaking from a Sydney firm to fit out a vessel, provided five others joined with him. Contributions of £50 apiece were to be made by all the members of the party save himself, and they, with him, were to have a share in the result. Guymuller was very much impressed with the proposal, but finally was dissuaded by his friends from having anything to do with it, Grien gave a glowing account of the possibility of making a fortune from the venture, but all his countrymen, save a man named Ruchty, held aloof from him. Eventually he persuaded four Englishmen to accompany him.
While the negotiations were in progress Guymuller, at Grien's invitation, proceeded to Wooloomooloo Bay to look at the pearling ship. According to Grien, she was a barque which had been cut down, and Guymuller remarked that she looked strong. "Not at all," said Grien; "she will break her back on the first reef we strike." Whether uttered in jest or in earnest, these words were prophetic, for the vessel and her party sailed away, and nothing was heard of them till one day Ruchty turned up, looking somewhat out at elbows. The story he told was that the vessel had been wrecked on a reef, and that the party had lost everything. The boats had to be taken to, and two days of fearful distress, without food and water, were experienced before they were picked up. According to Ruchty, times were very lively on the vessel, as the crew took to quarrelling among themselves, and revolvers were drawn and pot-shots taken on very slight provocation. Rutchy was terrified at this state of affairs, and he slept in the cabin aft with Grien, and they always "had a revolver handy, and slept with one eye open." Rutchy informed Guymuller that it was only the startling bad markmanship of the men that enabled them to miss one another. A few days after Rutchy had poured out his tale of woe, Grien also made his appearance, battered and impecunious. If one "spec." had proved disastrous, however, there was no reason why another should, and so he set about canvassing for photographic enlargements. Then he came forward with a new process for enamelling photos. There was money in it, he said, and he wanted a little capital to take him to France to perfect it. But his friends were not responsive, and declined to subscribe anything. After this he got regular employment and seemed to have abandoned projects which would make him rich quickly. Then Grien married, and Guymuller lost sight of him for some years. At last, meeting him near Enmore, carrying a baby, he explained that he was still in the photographic business. At intervals the men must have met until eighteen months ago. Grien then remarked that he was off to Europe, where he had something to do "that would bring money.''
Guymuller, who now is generally known as M. Adolphe, on being shown Grien's photo, and also that of De Rougemont, said he felt certain the one in the "Wide World Magazine" was an excellent likeness of Grien. He had known him so well that he had not the slightest doubt about the matter. The other photograph Guymuller identified as that of Grien when he was about ten years younger. He states that Grien is about sixty-two years of age. -Wanganui Herald, 15/10/1898.
THE LOUIS DE ROUGEMONT YARNS.
TO THE EDITOR. ...... Sir,—Of all the Munchausen yarns I ever read, I think L. de Rougemont's, vulgarly speaking, takes the cake. The one published in the Otago Witness of the 6th October re an octopus dragging down a boat with a Malay in it, at the same time, is a pretty tough one. The way in which he was rescued from certain death is very amusing. How was it the "big net made of rope," happened to be in readiness at the exact moment? And as to dragging any object free from the tentacles of an octopus when once it has firmly fixed them upon it, I can only state that it is simply impossible, without the tentacle, or arm, is severed from its horrible-looking body. I have had some slight experience with these disgusting looking sea monstrosities, having often had them attach themselves to a large bait when groper fishing at Cuttle Cove. It is stated that it was owing to the large number of cuttlefish, as the octopus was then called by the sailors, that Captain Cook gave it that name. When an octopus was hauled up on the fishing-line, the first thing it did was to extend its long weird-like feelers, or tentacles, with the object of fixing upon any substance it could, it would then eject a black-like fluid — often as black as ink — sometimes all over us. This is used to confuse its prey. Our great anxiety was to keep clear of an embrace from his, often far-reaching, tentacles, and try to shake him off the bait or hook. I noticed if it did let go it gathered up all its arms, or tentacles, to a point, then darted backwards with incredible swiftness into the sea. If it fixed upon the side of the boat, the only mode of freeing ourselves was by chopping off the tentacle attached to it, as we always took the precaution to have a tomahawk with us in the boat. I have often, when cleaning fish at One Tree Island, called by the old whalers who used to live at Cuttle Cove, Chokey Island, as they were marooned there after a heavy drinking bout, until properly sober, seen octopi stretch their long tentacles out of the sea to obtain the fish offal left on the edge of the rock. I experienced a narrow escape from being dragged into the sea by one of these uncanny things when busy scraping and washing a large groper. All at once a long purple-blue tentacle whisked out of the sea and fixed itself upon my groper, and, with one swift backward dart, it tore it from my hand and disappeared instantly into deep water with the fish. For my part, I was only too glad it was not my bared arm. The tenacity of life in the octopus is surprising, as I have several times dragged them on shore and chopped each tentacle off its body, then cast them separately into the sea, when they will float upon the surface, moving about just as if still attached to the body. The mode of killing the shark upon the Malay coast may be correct; as I have, when on the West Coast of Africa, had the natives often tell me they "fight" them in the sea with a sharp knife, but I never saw it done, although I have seen the Kroo boys swim around the steamer without the slightest fear of sharks. —I am, etc., Fred Purser. -Otago Daily Times, 15/10/1898.
LITERARY NOTES
The entertaining tarradiddles of Louis De Rougemont, alleged cannibal King, alias Grein, valet, photographer and wife deserter, have given rise to two skits “The Misadventures of Hooley De Rougemont” and “The Preposterous Adventures of George Washington Munchausen de Spoof” which are now appearing in two London papers. -NZ Mail, 3/11/1898.
M. DE ROUGEMONT ON THE QUEEN AND PRINCE OF WALES.
Lord Dufferin, on September 6, formally opened the Cabot Tower at Bristol, a tower erected by public subscription on Brandon Hill in memory of John Cabot and his sons. A banquet was held in the evening, at which Louis de Rougemont (the hero of' the marvellous yarns in the Wide-World Magazine) was present. He made a speech, which was indeed clever in its way. He referred to the amazing set of circumstances that had placed him among the cannibal blacks of unexplored Australia as a kind of viceroy. Although not appointed by Downing-street his rule was, he trusted, a wise one. At all events, it was based not upon the introduction of innovations, but upon the deeprooted beliefs of the strange people he governed. The savage tribes among whom he lived for nearly 30 years, far from looking upon him as a mere castaway among them, regarded him rather, and he must say, he led them to regard him as a direct representative of the great White Queen who had sent him into their midst to convey some adequate idea of the majesty of her mighty Empire. To his dismay there was a wonderful falling off in the effect produced by his glowing descriptions of Her Majesty, when it was found that the all powerful ruler was a woman. Indeed, so strongly marked was the disappointment of the natives, that he had speedily to give them ocular demonstration of the great White Queen's wonderful powers. This demonstration took the form of a colossal drawing executed in the pigments with which the savages decorated themselves, and it adorned the precipitous side of a huge rock. Her Majesty's crown was composed of the feathers of the rare lyre bird, which only a redoubtable hunter could obtain. Her Majesty's biceps stood out in a most phenomenal manner, and her sceptre was a mighty waddy or club, such as could be wielded with deadly effect upon enemies. He pointed out to the natives that the great Queen's retinue was larger than the whole of the tribes put together, and that they lived in one enormous house such as he could not build if he worked at it the whole of his lifetime. He then proceeded to tell his people that the British Empire embraced the whole universe, because, of course, they could not follow the distinction between Scotland or France or England or Turkey. In order to remove any lingering disappointment there might be over this mighty ruler being a female, he pointed out that she had a much-beloved and most redoubtable son, the Prince of Wales, and his powers he epitomised by assuring his hearers that the Prince of Wales was a very great warrior and spear-thrower, and led his tribes into battles and strange places where the great Queen Mother could not venture. He even made a colossal clay statue of the Prince, representing him armed with many throwing spears. -NZ Herald, 4/11/1898.
THE TRIAL OF DE ROUGEMONT.
LOUIS BECKE TAKES THE FLOOR
A. SENSITIVE EXPLORER.
"CHIEF JUSTICE MASSINGHAM'S" JUDGMENT.
[From Our Correspondent.] LONDON, Sept. 23. The trial of M. Louis De Rougemont for uttering a series of unparallelled travellers' tales was resumed on Saturday before Judge Massingham in the "Chronicle" High Court of Justice, when Mr Louis Becke officiated as prosecuting counsel. Knowing the interest likely to be felt in this cause celebre in Australia, I respectfully begged to be allowed a seat in Court, but was curtly informed that the trial was to be strictly in camera.
The proceedings were opened by the judge, who questioned De Rougemont in French as to the date and place of his birth, his parents' names, at what church h was baptised, whether his father was a Jew or Christian. De Rougemont replied in French that he was born in Paris on May 9, 1844, was baptised at the Madeleine, that his father was Samuel Emanuel de Rougemont, a merchant, with a warehouse on the Boulevard Hausmann.
Reverting to English, Judge Massingham put a series of questions to De Rougemont regarding his dealings with Mr Murphy, of Sydney, who, the traveller avers, is now in London, and is the head of the syndicate which forbids him to comply with the desire of Mr Massingham to write down phonetically a number of words in the Australian dialect with which he ought to he very familiar, on the ground that the words might be the means of forestalling the syndicate in its designs to exploit the gold deposits from which De Rougemont tipped his arrows and fashioned his native wife ornaments which she did not care to wear. The defendant's replies indicated that he had mentioned the fact of finding gold and precious stones to Mr Murphy, and also had told him of the valuable parcel of pearls which he left behind on the lonely sandpit, but that he had not suggested any attempt to recover them. Questioned why he left those pearls on the island instead of taking them with him, De Rougemont said he knew he would return some day for the shells, and consequently for the pearls; and moreover, he knew he was going among uncivilised people. He admitted that he had made attempts to recover the gems, and had sought the assistance of some pearlers. He mentioned the name of one gentleman, whom Mr Becke said was well known in Australia, but desired that the "name should be inquired into without publication." In reply to other questions, De Rougemont stated that he never used his own name in Australia but always went by the name of the firm or person he represented. He also admitted that he did not teach his late lamented native wife and children French — his native tongue — but only English.
The Judge having done with the defendant for the time being, intimated that Mr Becke would cross-examine. De Rougemont at once turned on the novelist with the remark that he was delighted to see in the paper that a large number of turtles had arrived in London, as he would be able to give Mr Becke a lesson in turtle riding. They would both go to a bath, and Mr Becke should learn how a turtle was ridden. Mr Becke declined, saying he was "not so venturesome." M. De Rougemont asked Mr Becke: Now, do you know anything about turtles? Mr. Becke: Yes, I do. M. De Rougemont: Did you ever get on the back of one? Mr Becke: Yes, but never afloat. M. De Rougemont: Oh, never afloat! As you have never been on the back of a turtle afloat, how is it you contradict me? You represent yourself as an expert, and you have never ridden a turtle afloat in the water. Mr Becke: I say that is absolutely impossible. M. De Rougemont: Now, do you think that Admiral Moresby is a better judge than you? Mr Becke: No, I do not think so. M. De Rougemont: Do you think that Admiral Moresby made a misstatement when he wrote that letter? Do you mean to say that he would make that statement by hearsay? Mr Becke: No, it is perfectly feasible to get on a turtle's back in shallow water, and to retain this position, but not in deep water. M. De Rougemont: You absolutely admit that in shallow water? Mr. Becke: Yes. M. De Rougemont: Did I say in deep water? I said shallow water. But I have been in deep water, and it was to-day I wished to show you how to go in deep water. Many a time the turtle has left me in deep water. The bulk of Mr Becke's examination related to the wreck of the schooner, concerning which M. De Rougemont offered many details, which, while proving that the defendant has a pretty good knowledge of seafaring life, only made Louis Becke a trifle more sceptical as to De Rougemont's veracity.
The examination came to an abrupt conclusion. The judge asked what he called "a delicate question." Would De Rougemont mind showing him his bare arm? Mr Massingham blushed as he put the query. Louis Becke hid his face in his hands, and De Rougemont glared horror stricken at the shameless editor. Recovering himself quickly, the intrepid explorer (think what agonies it must have meant to him to be forced to go about among the natives with a uniform which, like Gunga Din's, "consisted of nothing much before, and rather less than 'arf o' that behind!") explained that he had not the slightest objection to showing his arm privately to Loins Becke, but considered the question "impertinent." The Court then rose.
JUDGE MASSINGHAM'S VERDICT.
On Tuesday the Judge summed up dead against Rougemont, on the following grounds. That an examination of the registers of baptism at the Madeleine from 1843 to 1&45 inclusive, shows that no person of the name of De Rougemont was baptised during that period, whilst an examination of the archives of the Seine shows that no male child named De Rougemont was born in Paris between 1840 and 1849. There was, however, a child named Louis de Rougemont registered in 1859, but the parents' names are not those given by De Rougemont. Moreover the Boulevard Hausmann did not exist at the time De Rougemont was a child. That De Rougemont refuses utterly to submit himself to a body of experts for examination, though Mr Fitzgerald, of the "Wide, Wide World," voluntarily proposed a reference to such a body; his wriggle out of the native word test and his peculiar attitude when asked to show his naked arm. That though up to the age of nineteen, when he was lost to civilisation, De Rougemont had, on his own confession, lived entirely in France and Switzerland, and up to his shipwreck had never lived in an English speaking country, he nevertheless taught his wife English, spoke English to the first party of Australians he had ever met in his life, and even now speaks English with far greater ease and fluency than French. This of course, may be due to his subsequent residence in civilised Australia but does not account for his earlier command of a foreign against his native tongue. That De Rougemont's reasons of not taking the pearls with him when he left the island are quite insufficient. How did he know he was going to fall in with uncivilised people? He might have fallen in with a white party or have been picked up by a trader in which case the £50,000 of pearls would have been very valuable. Lastly, the rescue of the two Sunderland girls, Blanche and Gladys Rogers. A "Chronicle" representative spent two days in Sunderland searching for a clue to establish the truth or otherwise of this part of De Rougemont s story. He had the following statements by the defendant to go on:— (1) The name of the girls, Rogers; (2) they were with their father, who was either the captain or owner of the vessel; (3) the vessel was a 700-ton barque; (4) she was called either the Northumberland or the Sunderland; and (5) went out in 1869, 1870 or 1871. And after an exhaustive inquiry in and about Sunderland the "Chronicle" representative was quite convinced that: (1) No ship named Sunderland or Northumberland ever sailed to Australia from this port since 1860; (2) no captain or owner named Rogers sailed from this port to Australia during the date named in any ship that was lost out there; (3) no girls named Rogers have left this port with their father a captain or owner of the vessel they sailed in and failed to return; and (4) that while M. de Rougemont may have rescued two girls as he says, they did not Sunderland, nor was the ship's name Sunderland or Northumberland.
The Court, therefore, concludes that "the verdict of men who base their conclusions on reason cannot, on the evidence that has been given, declare itself in de Rougemont's favour. This conclusion may be reversed in the future. As things stand, we do not see any alternative to it." It is difficult to determine whether this finding of the "Daily Chronicle" High Court is final, for the editor describes the judgment as formed upon questions of a preliminary character, which might lead to further investigation. He adds that the interviews at the "Chronicle" office were not intended in any way to traverse the entire field of M. de Rougemont's story, and suggests that the investigation will be carried on, especially in Australia. -Star, 10/11/1898.
CLEVER MR GREEN.
WHO IS MONS. DE ROUGEMONT?
THE JUDGMENT OF SOLOMON.
(From Our Special Correspondent.)
LONDON, October 7
When a deplorably flippant friend asked Sir George Newnes on Tuesday afternoon whether he'd 'got any Green in his eye' it is understood that the chief backer of Rougemont lapsed into painfully profane tit-bits. And in truth his position is not altogether enviable. On Monday night M. de Rougemont delivered his first lecture at St. James' Hall, which was fairly filled with an audience that apparently reserved judgment. Sir George Newnes supported his protegee publicly, and to my great surprise Mr Heaton was also on the platform with Mrs Heaton. Punctually at eight the lecturer tripped lightly up the stairs. I had not an opera glass, so could not see exactly how he looked, but the 'Daily News' furnishes an excellent photo, in a few lines. It says: —
'De Rougemont is a slim, wiry man, with well balanced head, covered with short, iron-grey hair. He has aquiline features, even forehead, full eyebrows, rather small eyes, prominent ears, well grown and thickish dark beard, tinged with grey. In stature M. de Rougemont appears to be about five feet eight inches, and he seems to have, in racing parlance, scarcely an ounce of superfluous flesh about him. He wore a black frock coat, buttoned over his chest, relieved by a white tie in sailor's knot. In tone and pitch of voice he was by no means unsuited for lecturing, bearing himself quite straight, walking gently to and fro. He gave easy and appropriate gesture and occasional waving of the hands. While having little or no pretence to cultivated elocution, M. de Rougemont made use throughout of quite appropriate diction, and was never at loss for a plain and suitable word. His enunciation was sharp and distinct, and his English all but perfect, with just a tinge of foreign accent. In the word 'adventures,' for example, emphasis was laid on the last syllable. Rencontre and en passant were spoken as by a Frenchman, or a man who has lived in France.'
Whoever de Rougemont is there can be no doubt he knows the 'back blocks' intimately, and has an extensive and peculiar acquaintance with bush slang. Also, I should suspect him of some time or other having run a 'show.' His lecture (all old stuff) was dull. The critics note that he gave no dates. For example, meeting the criticism, 'Why didn't you tap the telegraph line?' he simply answered, 'The telegraph line was not then laid.' It was the same in reference to the parts of the Australian Continent where he had lived with the natives. Simply he pointed to the Cambridge Gulf region, there and thereabout. So far then as anybody expected a consecutive narrative, with dates and the precise naming of localities, it was not given. M. de Rougemont gossipped broadly at his experiences, flitting easily from one of these to another. At times he was dull, and invariably rambling and disconnected. On the other hand his asides were often clever and pat. 'There were no widows.' he remarked, 'among the natives with whom I dwelt. What a pity there should be any widows here.' Or, again, 'If you left anything anywhere you could always be sure to find it. You can't be always sure of that in a civilised country.'
HE BARES HIS ARMS
The evening finished with a suitable 'sensation,' As the audience were leaving the hall somebody shouted, 'Will' or 'Dare M. de Rougemont show his arms.' There was a hurried consultation on the platform and a disposition on the part of the lecturer to palaver. Sundry hisses, however, warned him to be careful, and after a few theatrical remarks De Rougemont boldly bared two lean brown arms to the shoulders. The Didymus who had requested this display then ascended the platform, and after closely examining them expressed himself satisfied. At this there was loud applause. 'If I had been a convict, as has been suggested,' declared M. de Rougemont, putting on his vest and coat again, 'I might have done what I have done, but I could never have accepted the invitation I received from the British Association.'
'CLEVER MR. GREEN.' SOME REVELATIONS AND A QUARREL.
Mr Daniel Leno, of the Variety stage, had a few months back a notable canticle in which he rehearsed the marvellous exploits of a certain 'Clever Mr Green.' We have now come to the conclusion that Louis de Rougemont must have been the hero of that song. For Louis' name turns out to be Green too. On Tuesday morning whilst the De Rougemont clique were congratulating themselves on the lecture finale the 'Chronicle' burst a nice little bombshell. This was a letter from Mr V. W. Solomon, manager of a large Swiss firm in Finsbury Square. Mr Solomon says: —
'During May last a man called at our office, introducing himself to be a Mr Green, a Swiss. I had a long conversation with him in reference to a wonderful diving apparatus he had invented, but which unfortunately had been lost in a shipwreck on its way from Australia to this country, he having come by another vessel. He was now compelled to remain in London until a duplicate set of papers arrived from Australia, but asked for the address of a firm I thought would be able to make a costume of a certain material which might be used for this particular purpose. I then took him to a prominent member of our firm to whom he explained that he was in rather distressing circumstances. Finding repeated applications for assistance on the strength of the diving costume were useless, he then represented himself as an artist, offering to make a large black and white drawing of myself or any member of my family. He was given a pencil and paper and asked to make a sketch on the spot, but he cleverly dodged this by various excuses. I may say he showed several letters of recommendation one being from a clergyman of prominent position in Australia., besides mentioning gentlemen of high social standing in London, who were going to assist him. I have not seen him from the end of May last until one night about a fortnight ago I met him accidentally in the Earls Court Exhibition. After having shaken hands and passed the usual compliments, to my utter astonishment and, I may say, disgust, he walked away, and this after having spent several hours at various times with me at the office. The fact of having seen his photograph has brought all this vividly to my mind, and there is not the slightest doubt but that Mr Green and M. de Rougemont are one and the same person.'
Subsequently both Solomon pere et fils identified de Rougemont as Green at St. James' Hall.
MR FITZGERALD KNEW ALL ABOUT IT
Mr Solomon's disclosure would have staggered most folks, but not the 'wide' editor of Sir George Newnes' (appropriately) blush-coloured monthly. He boldly admitted the identity of Green and de Rougemont, and inquired impudently 'what of it?' He says: 'The sum total of the "exposure" is that M. de Rougemont when in quite a destitute state called upon a Swiss firm in the city, introducing himself to Mr F. W. Solomon, the manager, under the name of Green and tried to sell a patent diving apparatus. You speak in your headlines of "An Earlier Appearance" and "Another Tale." The "earlier appearance" was the visit to Mr Solomon, in which there was surely nothing criminal, and the other "tale" is the patent diving dress. Let me tell you, sir, that M. de Rougemont sought my advice on this very subject when he first came into this office. There is one other point. Mr Solomon states that M. de Rougemont represented himself as a black-and-white artist and offered to make large drawings of any member of Mr Solomons family. Now the fact was, that he (Rougemont) had arranged with an artist at Willesden, so that he (de Rougemont) might go and solicit orders which would be executed by the artist in question, de Rougemont himself, as canvasser, receiving a certain commission on the results.'
WHAT ARE THE FACTS?
This audacity was, however, more than even the 'Chronicle' could stomach, and in a couple of rasping paragraphs it lets fly thus: — 'What are the facts about de Rougemont? On his own showing this man conceals his story from the entire Australian world, or, if he mentions it, fails to impress a single responsible person with its truth. He comes to England under a name which, if he is telling the truth, is not his own. He has previously lived for years in Australia under names which, again on his own showing, are not his own. He does not once use the name to which he affects a title. In England he does not at first tell a word of his adventures. He goes to a city firm, not as a Frenchman born in Paris, but as a Swiss of the Canton Vaud, and he says nothing of the subject of the articles in the 'Wide World Magazine.' He interests himself, instead in a wonderful diving apparatus, which he does not produce, and of which he does not even furnish drawings, though he describes himself as its inventor. This, therefore, is our ''exposure" and a significant exposure it is. But let us go a step further. This man volunteers a series of statements as to his birthplace, his parents, his place of baptism, his bringing up, and the rest of it. We are at great pains and expense to verify them. We find that some of them are impossible, and that none of them are verifiable. What does this gentleman do? If we are wrong he can of course convict us at once. But not a word of answer does he give, not a suggestion which is not at once blown to the winds, not a serious reply to men of undoubted experience, undoubted knowledge, undoubted character. We had an open mind about his adventures. It was nothing to us whether they were true or untrue. We judged him by his conduct, by his demeanour, by his evasion of every test that has been applied to him, not by us only, but by travellers and explorers whose counsel we have in no way sought, but who have voluntarily tendered to us their evidence with a volume and weight to which we have been unable to do justice.'
The 'Chronicle' then challenges Mr Green to produce the duplicate plans of the diving apparatus which he told Mr Solomon he was waiting for. 'That was in May. It is now October. Where are the duplicate set of papers? When did they arrive? By whom were they confined? What is the previous history of the diving apparatus in question? By this time M. Green could have written to Australia, could have got an answer back, and could have written again. Let him produce the letters, produce the replies to them and enable Messrs Newnes to trace his life from the day he landed in England to the day on which he first appeared in Sydney.
THE BUBBLE BURSTS.
This (Friday) morning the bubble seems to have finally burst, as the 'Chronicle' publishes damning cables from the editor of the Sydney 'Telegraph.'
'We quoted some days ago a cablegram from Sydney stating that the 'Daily Telegraph,' a well-known and responsible paper, had been publishing a series of articles stating that de Rougemont was not de Rougemont at all, but a certain Henri Grien, that he lived in that city many years, and that he had left a wife and family there. 'We decided to send the following telegram to the editor of the 'Sydney Telegraph': —
'Kindly wire how long Grien lived in Sydney, and age eldest child.'
The editor of the 'Sydney Telegraph' courteously cabled in reply: —
'Seventeen years. Frequently away. Eldest child fourteen.'
Seventeen years in Sydney, with intervals for disappearances. This, of course, takes fourteen years out of the 'thirty years' spent among savages. (See 'Wide World Magazine' and lecture before the British Association). In a word, it renders the whole story impossible. We shall in a future issue lift the veil from this historic imposture some way further and tell a story of singularly romantic interest.'
There is also an interview with Mr William May, of diving renown, who gives particulars of Mr Green's firm 'McQuillan and Green,' and describes the fatal consequences of testing Green's apparatus in Sydney harbour. -Auckland Star, 18/11/1898.
THE ABASEMENT OF LOUIS DE ROUGEMONT.
PARLOUS POSITION OF HIS BACKERS
NEWNES DILEMMA.
(From Our Special Correspondent.)
LONDON, October 14.
The De Rougemont exposure continues to be the 'Chronicle's' staple sensation, in fact it has published over a score of leaded columns,on the subject during the last few days. Much of the matter, can however, be remorselessly "boiled down." having small interest save as corroborative evidence of "clever Mr Grien's" boundless mendacity. Your contemporary has proved beyond reasonable doubt that Louis de Rougemont is really Henri Louis Grien, son of a bibulous Swiss peasant who resided in the Canton de Vand. A number of his relatives still live in the neighbourhood, and immediately recognised De Rougemont's likeness. Apparently he has been there comparatively recently. The man's early life was very much what might be expected. Gentlemen's servants — or, as they prefer to be called, "gentlemen's gentlemen" — are notoriously ready, fluent, and inexhaustible liars, and the discovery that Grien began his romantic career as a courier and valet elucidates a good deal. In 1872, after quarrelling with one of his masters, Grien drifted to Australia, and eventually got lost up country for, as far as we yet know, three years. During that time he, no doubt, lived with the blacks. The "Chronicle" says: "During the time that he was lost, Grien actually did live among the blacks, apparently somewhere in the north. Even the black wife is real, and we are inclined to think that it is quite true that at the end of his short spell of savagery he did fall in, in a state of woeful nudity, with an outlying party of miners, whom, for all we know to the contrary, he may have saluted with the 'Halloa, boys!' which has become famous. There is, however, one item which we feel bound to correct. According to the statements which Grien himself made on subsequent occasions, before he became M. de Rougemont, the interesting episode of the death of the black lady is inaccurate. As a matter of fact, he left her alive in the desert — which perhaps was not unnatural. Of the pathetic children we know nothing. But if they exist, their father has not inquired for them for "a long time." You however, certainly know more of this part of the adventurer's Australian career than we do. What will interest you more nearly is de Rougemont's, alias Grien's, genesis here. He arrived, as you know, by the Waikato on March 1st, practically penniless, and took rooms, at 5, Frith Street, Soho. Not long after he fell in with Mr Murphy who the "Chronicle" broadly hints, backed him up in the De Rougemont "fake."
Your contemporary says: "We ought to say at once that Grien is not only a nervous, excitable, and somewhat absurd person, but that he is to use the word in no offensive sense, a little crazy. He had in the back of his mind, as it appears, a notion that he could write a book of travels and marvellous adventures but that was by no means his immediate concern in life. Amongst the various occupations he had followed in Australia, the nearest thing to a settled and respectable livelihood was photography, with which he apparently combined the art of drawing portraits in black and white, not as we gather, that he was an artist, but that he had acquired a mechanical skill in drawing from photographs. He sought In London without much success, perhaps without much earnestness, employment in these ways.
His main hope of fortune was his diving apparatus. This is a thing of which we have heard "ad nauseam," and we can save ourselves the trouble of explaining it by referring our readers to the Patent Office; for, with the kindly assistance of Mr Murphy the apparatus was provisionally patented on April 2, in the name of Henri Louis Grien, then of 13, Bloomsbury Street, London. The address, of course, was that of Murphy. We have reason to believe that the information of William May, the diver, is correct, and that the machine is a worthless and even a dangerous instrument. Curiously enough, we have reason to believe that Grien himself implicitly believes in it. One of the many people upon whom he pressed its claims during his restless voyages about the London streets, tells us a curious story, which illustrates an important side of his character not hitherto publicly disclosed.
Grien, it appears, is a convinced and enthusiastic spiritualist. He seems to have made the acquaintance of an interesting photographer, who takes photographs of spirits, and to have proposed to work with him. That arrangement did not come off. But with regard to his diving apparatus, we learn that Grien consulted a medium with the view of seeing whether it would be safe for him to go down to make a trial of the apparatus in his own proper person. The medium discreetly replied that "If you do, the spirits will be with you." This Delphic utterance apparently satisfied the patentee, and he has amongst other things been endeavouring to arrange in London for a great experiment somewhere in the Channel, in which he himself is to go down to an extraordinary depth with ease and safety by the aid of his machine. Happily for him, that proposal also has so far failed.
It was for this purpose that he called on the families, of his old employers, such as the De Mievilles, and on the Mr Solomon who was one of our first informants and on a host of others to whom he had some sort of introduction. He had then with him letters of character from Sydney, including one from a Bishop, all of course, in the name of Grien, or Grin. He actually got so far as to induce one gentleman to sign a preliminary agreement to finance the thing. He told some curious lies about it, by the way, but they were trifles compared with his later exploits. Suffice it to say that nothing came of it at all.
It was apparently when his hopes in this direction began to wane that he turned his attention more seriously to 'his book.' Whether he meant originally to offer it as a true story or as a mere tale of travel, we know not. What we do know is that he took out a reader's ticket at the British Museum in his proper name, 'Henry Louis Grin,' and proceeded to frequent the reading-room assiduously. There is no difficulty in knowing what one's neighbour is reading in that nest of students, and the odd appearance of the man led to its being remarked that he was devouring all the books of travel and adventure he could lay his hands upon. -Auckland Star, 25/11/1898.
ANGLO-COLONIAL NOTES
Mr Louis "de Rougemont" has blossomed out again in a fresh place. At a spiritualistic conference last night he gave some experiences, and he related how, when wishing to work his way over from the Antipodes, he had an occult communication from the wife of the captain of a certain ship not to go through the Strait of Magellan then. He told this to the captain — a total stranger to him — who received the message ungraciously, and he (Mr de Rougemont) did not return by that ship. The captain went into the Strait of Magellan and the ship was lost. The captain had lately told him that if he had paid attention to the message he should not have lost his ship. This vessel, of course, was the Mataura, in which "de Rougemont" said was lost the record of his adventures, written on the margins of his Testament. What a pity it was that tho occult warning did not extend to his belongings as well as his personality, particularly so as no lives were lost in the wreck, while the "records" were. -Press, 14/1/1899.
DE ROUGEMONT.
The 'Daily Chronicle' is going to make a comic Christmas number out of Mr Grin-Grein-Green, and has persuaded Phil May to illustrate it copiously. This extra will appear on the 14th, and be called 'Grein on Rougemont: The True History of the Modern Robinson Crusoe.' Those who supposed Mr Grin done with little understood the notoriety hunger which consumes that preposterous old popinjay. Nothing will shut him up save a prosecution for perjury, and that, judging by the following statutory declaration, he may not have long to wait for:—
I, Louis de Rougemont, do solemnly and sincerely declare that the accounts of my adventures in Australia, as published, are absolutely true. And I make this solemn declaration conscientiously believing the same to be true, and by virtue of the provisions of the Statutory Declarations Act, 1830.
Declared at 33 Bedford street, Covent Garden, in the county of Middlesex, this 18th day of November, 1898. Louis de Rougemont. Before me, Francis Hughes, a Commissioner of Oaths.
For the present the 'Chronicle' contents itself with recalling the fact that Messrs Newnes, Mr Grin's employers, specially state in the current number of the 'Wide World Magazine' that, after investigation, they admit the story to be untrue, and publish it as a work, not of fact, but of fiction. Other papers point out that a false statutory declaration is a penal offence.
Rumors as to Grin's programme for the future are numerous. According to one story he is to appear as the hero of a melodrama founded on his own adventures. According to another, Williamson and Musgrove have taken him on, and Mr Harry Musgrove will engineer a De Rougemont lecturing tour in the English provinces. I have written "The Firm" asking if this is true. I doubt it. They may not have been very fortunate in some of their English speculations, still I can scarcely believe they have come down to running—Grin.
De Rougemont, by the way, made his first public appearance as a spiritualist at "Jimmy's " — I mean the St. James's Restaurant — last Friday evening. The modern Munchausen's contribution to the fun of the spiritualistic fair was excessively modest. He had only one little ewe lamb of a yarn to tell. It was to this effect: Just before he was leaving New Zealand the wife of the captain of the Mataura appeared to him and begged him to warn Captain Reeves not to go through the Straits of Magellan. De Rougemont told the captain all about the apparition, but the gallant mariner simply raised his eyebrows and remarked "White seal or red label?" But, as we all know, the Mataura was wrecked in the straits, and, according to De Rougemont, Captain Reeves "quite recently came to our printing office where I work and told me all about it." It was a distinctly poor effort — for De Rougemont —and was quite cast in the shade by anecdotes of a lady of mature charms who succeeded him. She began with a simple tale of crystal gazing, but wandered into the realms of pure 'Wide World' phantasy, and gave us the most thrilling narrative of the evening, bringing a gleam of jealousy to the eye of De Rougemont. She had seen spirits in her mirror which spoke to her; she had embraced the spirit of her sister (whether in bottle form or otherwise was not stated); and she had seen the spirit form of a child pick up a pug dog by its tail ("a flesh dog" she called it afterwards) and carry it across the room. The dog, she added, "was scared." This lady made a distinct hit, but it is at least premature for people to state that she has been specially engaged to write the 1899 serial for the 'Wide World.' And it is quite untrue that she has been asked to contribute a paper on 'Spooks' to the next Conference of the British Association.
Still, if it is not too late, one would counsel Mr Fitzgerald to secure the lady's services. As a yarner she is De Rougemont's equal, whilst her tales cannot be proved false: and, moreover, since they concern the dead, the editor of the 'Wide World' would be tolerably safe from libel actions, for spooks are notoriously shy of the law courts. Even the brazen "Julia," who was not ashamed to hold lengthy tete-a-tetes with Mr W. T. Stead ("an' 'im a married man, too, an' the father of a family") at Mowbray House, never could be persuaded to show herself in the Queen's Bench Division.
MORE 'WIDE WORLD' TRUTHS.
Sir George Newnes is discovering that "the truth," as certified by his blush-coloured monthly, the 'Wide World Magazine,' proves not merely "stranger than fiction," but a good deal more expensive. For the narration of a " fantastic and astounding story of the sea," called 'The Voyage of the Molehill,' in his Christmas number, Mr Justice Bingham ordered Newnes and Co. on Saturday to pay up sums which with their own costs will total quite £800. The article is supposed to be written by T. Webster Smith, an apprentice on the Mohill (as the vessel was really called), and accuses the owner, Mr James Price (rechristened feebly James Cost), of sending an ill-found, rotten old ship to sea, and conniving at her total loss. Nothing could be more specific than the charges. Mr Fitzgerald (the editor) brags in his headings to the 'Voyage of the Molehill' that he has in his possession all the documents appertaining to the case. Apparently, however, this was only another piece of bounce similar to his impudent pretences anent De Rougemont. Mr James Price, the Liverpool shipowner attacked, lost no time in bringing a libel action against Newnes, and asking the Courts to injunct the sale of the magazine. Mr Justice Bigham decided the case was not one which would hold over indefinitely, and announced he should take it at the current assizes. At first Newnes and Co. intimated they intended to plead justification. Perhaps they expected this would scare Mr Price. Instead it evidently delighted him. Thereupon Newnes and Co. collapsed, apologised (throwing all the blame on their editorial staff), and invited Mr Justice Bigham to assess damages. This his lordship (who for years led the Bar on the Northern Circuit, and is perhaps the greatest living expert on shipping cases) very grimly did, saying he could not conceive a more serious imputation upon a shipowner. The defendants had adopted a wise and honorable course in withdrawing it, and had undertaken to give up the sale or circulation of the magazine, and in the next number of the magazine to publish an ample statement by way of explanation and apology, so that the world might know that the plaintiff was not guilty of the offence imputed to him. Nevertheless, the case was one for substantial damages, and he (the Judge) awarded the plaintiff £500 as damages, and further, that the defendants should pay the plaintiff's solicitor a hundred guineas to cover costs as between solicitor and client. -Evening Star, 20/1/1899.
Louis de Rougemont, who startled the world by his unparallelled imaginativeness, has gone to the Cape for the sake of his health. He derives a goodly income from the "Story" of his life in Australia, the audacity of which has possessed an irresistible charm even for the stolid unbeliever. -Oamaru Mail, 26/12/1899.
NEWSPAPER NOTIONS
We notice that Louis de Rougemont has returned to Australia, and we rise to suggest, with due courtesy and humility, that the "Freetrade and Liberal Association" might give that gentleman a job compiling Freetrade statistics for the coming elections.— Adelaide "Critic." -Free Lance, 16/3/1901.
GENERAL CABLES
LOUIS DE ROUGEMONT.
MELBOURNE, February 27. It is stated that De Rougemont, of "Wide World" fame, is in Melbourne, and that he contemplates a lecturing tour in .Australia. -NZ Times, 28/2/1901.
AUSTRALIA
THE NARROW, NARROW WORLD.
MELBOURNE, March 18. Louis De Rougemont, the famous romancer, attempted to tell some thrilling adventures at the Bijou, but the audience made things too hot in the first three minutes, and he retired. -Star, 18/3/1901.
NEWS ITEMS
A mixed Melbourne audience refused to hear Louis De Rougemont, the exploded Australian romancer, at the Bijou Theatre, on Saturday night (says a telegram in the Sydney Daily Telegraph). A tall, lean, grizzly-bearded, benevolent looking man in evening dress stepped slowly from one of the wings, and in husky Alsatian accents was prepared to tell of his marvellous adventures. He was just about three minutes on the stage altogether, most of which he spent in listening to gratuitous advice from the audience to "lose himself" or "go off." De Rougemont was billed to tell of no less than 25 marvellous adventures and extraordinary experiences. He never even got through one. The gallery kept up a running fire of rude and contemptuous comment, and finally the "star" inclined his head to the left wing, as though someone was calling him, and then disappeared, amidst the ironical cheers of the whole house. The audience knew him, but he did not know the audience, and the wonder is that so astute a manager and proprietor as Mr Harry Rickards should ever have been induced to champion so severely an exploded celebrity as De Rougemont. -Poverty Bay Herald, 29/3/1901.
FROM FAR AND NEAR
Louis de Rougemont, whose favourite occupation used to be slaying lions, and alligators and snakes, is now satisfied with "taking lives" for an insurance company, a pursuit at which he ought to make more money than by writing for the "Wide, Wide World." -Auckland Star, 1/4/1903.
DE ROUGEMONT REDIVIVUS.
A QUEER TALE OF THE MATAURA MISHAP.
[From Our Correspondent.] LONDON, March 21. Mr W. O. FitzGerald, who edited the “Wide-World Magazine” during the notorious De Rougemont episode, is now conducting a weekly journal called “The Wheel of Fortune,” and is taking its readers “behind the scenes of the famous 'boom’ in a series of articles entitled “How I Found De Rougemont.” Possibly a better, or, at any rate, a more accurate title would have been, “How De Rougemont Found Me,” for, on his own showing, Mr FitzGerald was sought by the famous tale-pitcher in the editorial sanctum of the “Wide World.” However, we need not spend time and space in discussing so small a matter as a mere heading, and it is hardly necessary to follow Mr FitzGerald through his prolix explanation of how the latter-day Munchausen contrived to get speech with him. The only part of the tale that is likely to interest you is a divergence in the narrative, in which is set forth the reason why De Rougemont did not take his passage from New Zealand Home by the ill-fated Mataura. I give the tale without comment, as Mr FitzGerald prints it.
Says the Editor of the "Wheel of Fortune”:—
“I would like to diverge for a. moment here to relate a narrative about this extraordinary man which has never before been published, and which clearly demonstrates that there is something, if not precisely occult, about him at least uncanny and unexplainable.
“One night, the more or less destitute, De Rougemont found himself seated at a banquet. What was he doing there if he were hard up? You would never guess. He was doing duty as a reporter, acting, in fact, as deputy for a newspaper man who could not turn up to report speeches and generally describe the festive scene.
“Naturally, the adventurer-reporter got into conversation with his neighbour, who turned out to be none other than Captain M.... (if the captain sees these lines, will he kindly communicate with me at these offices?), and this gentleman was tho commander of the steamer Mataura. In this happy combination of circumstances, De Rougemont naturally saw a fine opportunity of getting to London for nothing and made propositions to the captain on these lines. Captain M.... agreed to let the man either stow himself away or work his passage to London on the Mataura, and next day De Rougemont put all has worldly possessions — not a very extensive collection — on board the homeward-bound ship.
“Some days before the ship sailed, however De Rougemont went down to the vessel and asked at once for the captain. There was Captain M...., excessively busy with his final preparations for the sailing of the ship, taking on cargo, etc., and, as you may suppose, he was not prepared to be bothered with unprofitable passengers. 'I want to speak to you for a moment, Captain M... —' said the prospective stowaway. ‘I have had a message from your wife.’
“The effect was absolutely galvanic. M... recoiled, as though he had been shot, and when he could speak he cried, in tones that shook with wrath, 'How dare you speak to me like that.' It appeared that the captain’s wife had died some considerable time previously, under very painful and tragic circumstances. But De Rougemont grew more than ever insistent and impressive.
"’Captain M....,’ he said, solemnly, ‘I am the bearer of a message from your wife, and I am going to deliver it to you at all costs, as it involves the safety both of yourself and of your ship.’ And, in spite of the furious protests and violent anger of M...., this most extraordinary of men delivered the alleged message from the spirit world.
“ ‘Beware of the Straits of Magellan on the way home, Captain M....; whatever you do don’t go through them, or your ship will be destroyed, and yourself either ruined or destroyed with her.
"Now what do you think would be the effect of such a fantastic message from the dead upon any ordinary, hard-headed seafaring man? Naturally, the Mataura's captain cursed and swore, and decided then and there to cancel has permission to his 'passenger.'
"But would it be believed that De Rougemont did not wait to remove his goods and chattels from the Mataura, but avoided the ship like the plague, at the same time sparing no effort to impress upon the captain the extreme urgency and vital importance of his supernatural 'message.’
“The Mataura sailed without Louis De Rougemont, but she carried his personal effects on board. Did that supernatural message come true? Surely not, you will say. Dear readers of the ‘Wheel of Fortune,’ the steamer Mataura was totally destroyed in the Straits of Magellan in precisely the manner indicated by De Rougemont in his supernatural message to Captain M.... in that New Zealand port —and anyone who doubts this story can easily verify it for himself.
“But, dramatic and thrilling as this story is, much more remains behind. I am, however, compelled to skip over a few weeks, if not months, of my intercourse with De Rougemont, and come to a meeting more sensational and startling than any I have ever read of, or seen in a theatre. I was one day going over some proofs of the De Rougemont adventures with the hero himself, when, without a moment's warning, one of my typewriters entered the office, and announced ‘Captain M...., late commander of the steamer Mataura.’
“ Knowing the above extraordinary and unaccountable incident as I did, I was amazed at the curious turn affairs had taken. ‘Shall I ask him in?’ I said to De Rougemont. He looked at me with his inscrutable eyes, and nodded. I rang for the clerk again, and asked him to tell Captain M.... to come in. A moment later a short and powerfully-built man, of mild countenance, and generally typical seafaring appearance, came in, and stood face to face with the man, who had so solemnly warned him of the approaching destruction of his ship — a prophecy made under most fantastic conditions, and afterwards fulfilled to the letter in a most astounding manner.
“De Rougemont commenced to speak. ‘Ah. Captain M....,’ said he, shaking his head sadly, ‘if only you had taken my advice and promised me not to go through the Straits of Magellan! The spirit of your wife came to me, and asked me to warn you.’ Captain M....’s emotion was most pronounced, and he was hardly able to speak, so disturbed was he by this dramatic episode. The two men in my presence talked over their curious meeting and parting, and the captain produced some photographs of the submerged ship, upon which diving operations were then in full swing.” -Lyttelton Times, 27/4/1903.
TOWN AND COUNTRY
M. Louis de Rougemont dropped out of eight after public interest in his marvellous tales of adventure in unknown regions of Australia died down a few years back, but no is about to make another bid for notoriety. It will take the form of riding on the back of a turtle at the Hippodrome, the arena of which will be flooded with eight feet of water for the purpose. When Louis told the story of his wonderful escape on turtle-back from Australian savages, people were very sceptical. At the Hippodrome the question will be solved in a practical way as soon as a turtle large enough to bear the weight of the explorer can be brought over from New York. “M. de Rougemont,” says the manager of the Hippodrome, “is a past-master in hypnotism and animal magnetism, and I have no doubt that these will play their part in his endeavours to carry out the difficult task of not only riding a turtle but even compelling it to do exactly what he wants.” It is stated that M. de . Rougemont's salary will be £100 a week, and an extra bonus of 10 per cent will be paid him if he successfully rides a crocodile four times round the arena. Louis certainly promises to be interesting. It is stated that M. de Rougemont has been spending the last two years writing accounts of his travels, but recently he has turned his thoughts to serious literature, and is about to publish a book, entitled “Rural England from a Cannibal Chief's Point of View.” “But surely, M. de Rougemont, you are not a cannibal?” was asked. “Certainly,” was the quick reply. “You could not have existed in lands where I have been if you were not a cannibal. Cannibalism is just a religious ceremony, not the eating of human flesh. That is a regrettable incident, and has nothing to do with the teachings of cannibalism.” Here is food for comfort for the next man who finds himself about to be cooked and eaten. It will be merely a “regrettable incident!” -Lyttelton Times, 9/6/1904.
BUCK-JUMPING TURTLE.
M. DE ROUGEMONT'S REAPPEARANCE.
M. De Rougemont, whose wonderful adventures in Australia may still be remembered, has turned up in London.
Seated in an easy chair this wiry, sparebuilt man of some 60 summers talked to a press representative on turtles and their habits.
His face was tanned red-brick by the sun, and his eyes blazed from under shaggy grey eyebrows.
He was M. Louis de Rougemont.
"The time has now come for me to put my enemies to shame," he said, "and in a few days I shall do this at the Hippodrome by showing to the world by practical demonstrations that all I have written and said is perfectly true. I propose to begin by what to me is a simple thing, but to others an impossibility. It is only riding a turtle when the arena of the theatre is filled with water.
"The riding will not be done by physical force. No! It is a case of will overcoming will — personal magnetism, which I possess and hold the secret of.
"This is no easy matter, as a turtle is like a buck-jumper. However, I know their tricks, and had plenty of practice in Australia. This, combined with my will-power, will render it unnecessary for me to make the acquaintance of the creature before I enter the arena, which I mean to do by coming down the water-chute seated on its back.
"I shall be armed only with a cane, with which I shall steer the creature round the ring. Of course, the stick will act as a conductor for my magnetism between the animal and myself.
"Turtles, you know, are very sensible and cunning creatures, and know very well what they are doing. They are also most affectionate, and one in Australia was a very dear friend of mine. I called it Carabelli, and it used to follow me about like a dog. I had saved its life from sharks, so, naturally, it took a fancy to me out of sheer gratitude."
M. de Rougemont has been spending the last two years writing accounts of his travels, but recently he has turned his thoughts to serious literature, and is about to publish a book entitled "Rural England from a Cannibal Chiefs Point of View."
"But surely, M. de Rougemont, you are not a cannibal?" was asked.
"Certainly," was the quick reply, "You could not have existed in lands where I have been if you were not a cannibal.
"Cannibalism is just a religious ceremony, not the eating of human flesh. That is a regrettable incident, and has nothing to do with the teachings of cannibalism." -NZ Herald, 11/6/1904.
DE ROUGEMONT, FAITHHEALER AND TURTLERIDER.
Prior to the announcement made last week anent De Rougemont's intention to confound unkind sceptics of the Louis Becke type by riding a turtle in the Hippodrome pond there had been many tender inquiries as to the actual whereabouts of the latter-day Munchausen. The truth, seems to be that for some months past he has been continuing with the unseen and getting "en rapport" with Nirvana in a humble little cottage at the village of Flitwick in Bedfordshire. There, aided by a frugal diet of nuts and fruit (a food highly commended by the unspeakable "Swami" and her male abettor, Theodor Horos), de Rougemont has given himself up to the Higher Thought. His connection with the outside world has been kept up through the Higher Thought Centre, in Kensington, where, says the "London Chronicle," the humble disciples have rejoiced at the opportunity of hearing the words of wisdom which fall from the Master's lips. Here is the common meeting ground for seekers after truth. Here those who were receiving light outside the somewhat rigid pale of Mrs Eddy's school began to meet together, and to form another and a broader institution, where, we are told "the Unity underlying all apparent differences was recognised and brought into manifestation."
As the "Chronicle" asks: What better than to recognise the '"Unity of the apparent differences" in the account of turtle-swimming, flying wombats, and other little matters, which exist between Mr Carnegie, Mr Louis Becke, and Louis de Rougemont himself? Twice a week the disciples meet in South Kensington for Silence and Healing gatherings. Disease is banished by the imagination, and the only failures are due to unbelief. But to return to Flitwick. There, we learn, a cold and unbelieving world has not given the Master many opportunities to use his great gifts — save on one occasion, when a hopeless lunatic was received for treatment. And just when success was about to crown the Great Healer's efforts a sceptical magistrate interfered, and told de Rougemont that he would not be allowed to keep a dangerous lunatic in his home without a license! De Rougemont's neighbours cordially endorsed the magistrate's action.
It seems, by the way, that the Turtle Jockey may meet with some difficulty in securing a "mount." He-wants a turtle of some 350 lbs., but these take some finding, for turtles running over 200 lbs. are not imported into England. De Rougemont has, however, entered into negotiations with Mr T. K. Bellis, through whose hands most of the turtles imported into this country pass, and he has a suitable "mount" for Louis' Hippodrome debut.
Mr Bellis, by the way, is quite as sceptical as Mr Becke as to the possibility of riding a turtle in the water, and when asked what he thought of De Rougemont's alleged intention to ride one across the Channel, said: "Well, I should like to own his insurance policy if he makes the attempt. Why, if you touch a turtle in the water he sinks to the bottom like a flash."
It has transpired that Mr Sandow the strong man, is responsible for introducing De Rougemont to the public as a turtle and alligator jockey, and it is said he has every confidence in the ability of his protegee to succeed. We shall see — perhaps! -Auckland Star, 25/6/1904.
THE LIFE OF A HERMIT.
Mr Louis De Rougemont, whose marvellous adventures recently astonished the wide world, has shaken the dust of cities off his feet for ever, and in the rustic solitude of Tatesfield, in the borders of Kent and Surrey, has been leading the life of a hermit for over a year.
The other afternoon, however, when a reporter called upon him, Mr De Rougemont announced that he was leaving Tatesfield for a place forty miles away, deep in the country, where interviewers will never find him.
Much mystery surrounds Mr De Rougemitnt here, and his cottage is and has been for some time the abode of a demented lady, to whom De Rougemont has acted as keeper. Her hysterical screamings at night, and the remarkable habits of her attendant, have given rise to no little talk among the country people around. Neither Mr De Rougemont nor the lady of whom he is in charge wear hats in their walks abroad, and other signs of pronounced eccentricity have also been noted and commented on. It is now his custom to sit in the sun bareheaded for many hours in the day, a practice which, he says, stimulates his imagination, and brings back vividly his wild Australian days. It is a place of solitude, and for that reason chosen by Mr De Rougemont, who confessed he is tired of being a celebrity. Collarless and wearing a striped pyjama jacket, open at the neck, trousers dusty from gardening, and enormous woollen slippers, is his attire.
"Yes," he admitted, "this very rural spot, four miles from a railway station, suited me very nicely, but now that my retreat has been discovered I will go. I have been meditating on many things here, and living a life of perfect simplicity.
"It is a grand life this. I have solved the problem by going back to the land, and, I find, that our wants are so few that one can live in happiness on a few pence a week. Apples, melons in season, and all kinds of vegetables. What could be nicer or more nutritious. I get wholemeal and yeast, and I make my own bread.
"You remember, I promised to ride on a turtle to show you people who stay at home how it could be done, and I am still willing to do it. The difficulty has been to get one large enough. It must weigh 3 1/2cwt, you know, and then all you have to do is to get on its back and steer it, Tod Sloan fashion. When I get this large turtle I will show the British public I am not the person of doubtful veracity they take me for.
"I never get newspapers down here. I suppose a fresh book of adventures is expected from me, but I can say nothing of my literary plans. I have something now under consideration, startling but perfectly true, and I assure you that it will astonish many people I know.
"Solitude in the country and simple fare — these are the secrets of happiness." And Mr L. De Rougemont, hatless but happy, disappeared into his cottage. -Greymouth Evening Star, 17/7/1905.
TOPICS OF THE DAY.
ROUGEMONT REDIVIVUS. The public’s memory is proverbially short, but your readers have not, I trow, had time yet to forget that arch humbug Louis de Rougemont. For the past two or three years one has heard nothing material about the gentleman who so neatly “spoofed” the British Association and the British public with his “most thrilling experiences mortal ever lived to narrate.” To hear of him again is almost like getting news from the Great Beyond. According to the latest tidings De Rougemont has been during the past week a factor of disturbance in the usually placid harmony of the pretty little hamlet, of Chesham in Buckinghamshire, whither he went some two months ago after a prolonged rustication in rural Kent. Chesham has curious as to the identity of the newcomer, but failed entirely to connect the elderly, hatless, white-haired old gentleman with those marine excursions per turtle, flying wombats and other weird wonders of unknown Australia of which the “Wide World” told them in days gone by. He had an old lady with him, and after a time the villagers discovered that she, at any rate was move or less a lunatic. They decided, therefore, that De Rougemont, whom they learned to know as “Dr Sousou,” was the keeper of an asylum on a small scale. Small it certainly was, consisting as it did of a little villa some two miles from Chesham on the Berkhampstead Road. Locally, the place is known as Orchard Leigh, or Wooden Babylon.
Chesham has just got accustomed to Dr Rougemont’s occasional appearances in its streets when trouble began at Wooden Babylon. There was wild talk of threats to shoot having been made by the newcomer, and constables departed from Chesham on mysterious errands along the Berkhampstead Road.
It appears now that the bother arose through an attempt to evict Louis from his new domicile. The villa, it seems, was lent rent free to De Rougemont by a lady doctor who had met Louis in connection with certain spiritualistic matters. De Rougemont, it seems, is, in the language of spiritualists, a "magnetiser,” and possessed of powers as “a healing suggestionist,” whatever that may be.
Suddenly, however, the lady doctor decided that it would be advisable to get rid of her non-paying tenant, and gave him orders to quit. He refused to do so, holding that there was a verbal understanding between the lady and himself which, in the realms of the higher life, should be as binding as any written agreement. The lady then appealed to a friend, said to be famous for his hypnotic powers, to rid her of Louis. This third party, using, it seems, a judicious mixture of financial and hypnotic “suggestion,” appears to have been successful to a certain extent with De Rougemont, who, descending from the realms of the higher life aforementioned, agreed for a certain sum of money to give up possession of the villa. But then “something went wrong with the works.” De Rougemont was ready to go and all arrangements for his deportation per brougham to Berkhampstead Station on a given day had been made, when the lady doctor and the hypnotic magnetiser had a quarrel. The results were peculiar. On the appointed day the coachman, who was to take Louis and his belongings from the villa was missing, and when finally discovered was sleeping so soundly that he was only awakened, after great efforts, just in time to miss the last train. Louis, therefore, remained in the villa, and, urged thereto by the hypnotist ’tis alleged, started to make preparations for standing a siege. Among the stock of war material he laid in were a stout broom-handle and a revolver. His preparations were made in the nick of time, for a few days later a skirmishing party from the enemy’s camp, under the leadership of the lady doctor’s factor, made a dashing attack on his defences, and succeeded in breaching one of the villa walls. Through the aperture a plucky labourer tried to effect an entrance, only, however, to be ignominiously expelled by the forcible application of the defender’s broomstick. A second rush met with no better success, and above the din of strife was heard De Rougemont’s voice threatening to use his artillery if the attack was persisted in.
Thereupon the attacking force drew off and retired upon its base. Its leader having consulted his commander in chief decided to open up negotiations for the surrender of the fort. Terms were eventually arranged which left all the honours with the defence. In consideration of more than double the sum originally named, and the provision of another residence within a given distance, De Rougemont agreed to surrender the Wooden Babylon fort. And on Friday last he marched out at the head of his garrison (the old lady aforementioned) and was escorted with all due honours to his new residence at Ballinger, some four or five miles away. -Lyttelton Times, 18/9/1905.
WAS IT ROUGEMONT?
"HE DIED WITH INDIFFERENCE."
ADELAIDE. February 18. A message from Leigh's Greek states that the man Smith, who committed suicide at Oodnatta a few weeks ago, and who is supposed to have been no other than de Rougemont, was possessed of no ordinary talents. He was a brilliant conversationalist, and adapted himself easily to circumstances. Some of the writings he carried with him showed indisputably that he had the ability to write fiction equal, if not superior, to that of de Rougemont. He had a slight deformity, which was apparent in a limp when he walked. He died with cool and careless indifference, which characterised his actions during life.
Mr. Matheson, of Myrtle station, knew Smith well. He states that deceased told him in confidence that he was de Rougemont, and he had been shown by Smith his writings and sketches. Mr. Matheson volunteers the information that Smith's father was a High Church clergyman, and that the son left England in trouble. Mr. Matheson has no reason to doubt his statement. He found Smith a man of high attainments, particularly from a literary standpoint. He talked brilliantly, and made clever sketches.
[''Louis de Rougemont'' was the pseudonym of one of the most famous impostors of the nineteenth century. In the midst of his glory as an explorer — a glory springing from imaginary feats that deceived even the British Association — the "Daily Chronicle" instituted a series of inquiries, which finally identified him with a man named Green, alias Le Grin, and compelled the "Wide World Magazine", which was publishing de Rougemont's "adventures, to withdraw its guarantee of their veracity. Shortly afterwards this egregious personage disappeared from view, and has not been heard of again until this moment.] -Auckland Star, 26/2/1906.
Despite the statements from Oodnadatta (S.A.) that the man A. M. Smith, who recently committed suicide there, was identical with Louis de Rougemont, evidence of a contradictory nature has been received by the South Australian Commissioner of Police. Mrs Grein, of Enmore, Sydney, has written to the Commissioner sailing that she is the wife of Louis de Rougemont, and enclosing a photograph of the genuine de Rougemont. This has been shown to a gentleman m Adelaide who had extensive experience with Smith, and he states positively that the photograph is not that of Smith. There is little doubt that the real de Rougemont is in England, and a series of stories written by him is appearing in the Sheffield Daily Telegraph. -Poverty Bay Herald, 20/3/1906.
SAD FATE OF A LIAR.
It is a mistake to be too good a liar if Mr de Rougemont is to be believed. When he walks along the street (so he told a representative of the Daily Express) people turn and say, "There goes the liar!" At first things were so bad that he was obliged to leave London and go for a sea voyage. On board ship he became friendly with a lady and her two little girls, but the captain sent orders to his friends that they were not to know Louis de Rougemont. In Australia he was deeply pained when, on rising to address the New South Wales Lancers on what he saw at Elandslaagte as a non-combatant, one of the men got up, and said he was not going to and listen to a liar. At Port Elizabeth he engaged rooms and paid a fortnight's rent in advance, but when the landlady discovered that he was de Rougemont, she pushed the money back to him dramatically, and gathering up her children fled from the room. He joined the library of the Spiritualist Alliance in London, but was curtly informed that the Alliance had to draw the line somewhere, and that somewhere was Louis de Rougemont. But, "the most unkindest cut of all" was administered at the Cape. He was sitting close to the lighthouse at Greenpoint, at 11 o'clock at night, when the Thermopylae went ashore, and of course swam out to the vessel, but next day, to the shame of Cape journalism, the papers, instead of complimenting him on his bravery, merely made fun of him, and blamed him for not rescuing the ship's company on his turtles. It is truly a very sad fate for so clever a man, and he has apparently only one consolation, his case serves as a splendid warning to others tempted towards similar fields. -Taranaki Herald, 22/5/1906.
MISUNDERSTOOD.
DE ROUGEMONT IN EXPLANATION.
WHY HIS STORY WAS MISBELIEVED.
"I feel that the time has now come when it is my duty to the public to explain the terrible catastrophe which overwhelmed me when dictating my Australian experience in 1898."
This statement was recently made by Louis de Rougemont at the office of the "Daily Express" (London), and, following it up, the world-famous man gave some interesting details of the inner history of the controversy which raged about him eight years ago. The tale of his adventures he maintains was, on the whole, absolutely correct in the main, but his one great mistake was in saying that he spent thirty years with the Australian aborigines. He did live that period in Australia, but not all the time with the blacks.
DE ROUGEMONT'S STORY.
Here is De Rougemont's story, as told by him to the before-mentioned newspaper.
I came to London in 1898, arid called on Mr Henniker Heaton, the member for Canterbury, hoping to find some assistance from him owing to his previous Australian. connections. To him I took the history of my life, condensed into seven foolscap pages of manuscript.
He was so impressed by this that he gave me a letter of introduction to the editor of a publication about which I then knew nothing. In this letter he was kind enough to write that the story I had set out equalled anything that had been written by Jules Verne.
I had now better explain, before proceeding further that though my name is really De Rougemont I travelled to this country under the name of Grien, but took my original name on reaching London. I never made any secret of this; many people knew it, including the captain of the ship.
One morning, when I was in the midst of dictating my story, the head of the firm came to see me. He asked me to tell him my story, and I at once plunged into the subject. I was just approaching an interesting stage - I may say a vital stage — when he was interrupted and left me.
Though I was not aware of it at the time, this interruption was fatal to me. Had I been allowed to proceed for a few more sentences the head of the firm would have discovered that I had hot spent thirty years among the savages, and I did not even propose to pretend I had so done.
During the period in which I was writing my story I was visiting the Fellows of the Royal Geographical Society. On the first two visits I was very reticent, but on the third I loosened my tongue and discoursed to such an extent on Australian aboriginal life, that one of the members exclaimed: "Why, you have taken possession of us!"
BEFORE THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION.
Some months after this I was invited to write a paper for the British Association upon the anthropology of the Australian aborigine. This I did, and so well did I handle the subject that it satisfied the highest authorities on the question.
To combat all the assertions of the so called exposure that were made against me in detail was hopeless, though on many points I succeeded in completely demolishing those who attacked me. There was the one deadly glaring fact I had not been for thirty years among the savages. And it was a mistake so patent, so glaring and so ugly that it utterly destroyed all the rest of my story, which was absolutely true. Because this was an inexactitude - I admit a great and terrible inexactitude — it was presumed everything else must of necessity be a lie. And in their hurry to prove that I was lying wholesale, people denounced as the mere figments of De Rougemont's facile if evil imagination things which were common knowledge.
For instance, two hemispheres rocked with laughter at the tale that I had ridden on turtles. Yet if they had taken the trouble to turn to the sketch which that great naturalist Darwin had written of the Cocos and Keeling Islands, they would have found a passage in which he says: — the only sport the natives have in these islands is turtle riding. It takes a very smart man not only to catch them, but to ride them."
Another matter on which I was laughed to scorn was my description of the "flying wombat." This was a misprint. I never wrote "flying wombat." What I did write was "flying wombah;" but, unfortunately for me, the printer converted the "h" into a "t," which made nonsense of the whole affair. "Wombah" is the native name for an animal not unlike a flying fox.
Other matters which brought me into discredit were my stories of creeks which spurted with water after three years drought; trees which, when cut, discharged water that could be drunk; and a shower of fish.
All these facts were disputed by socalled scientists on the ground that they were unscientific. But on each of these questions, events have since vindicated me.
For instance, on a subsequent visit to Australia my eyes were one morning greeted with the following contents bill of a Sydney paper: "Marvellous Phenomenon. A Shower of Fish 2 1/2 inches long fall at Warwick (Queensland). Gathered up and Bottled."
Soon after this a second contents bill of the same paper further came to my assistance. This one began in a similar way to the first, with the words: "Extraordinary Phenomena. Creeks near Orange (New South Wales) run, though no rain has fallen for three years."
FARMER'S EXPERIMENT.
Not long after, during that same terrible drought, I found a paragraph in a North Queensland paper — the name of which I believe, was the Townsville "Herald" — to the effect that a farmer whose herds were dying for want of water, thought, as a last resource, that he would see whether there were any truth in what that liar De Rougemont said about water coming from what are known as bottle trees. He cut one down, and secured enough water from it to give some of his cattle drink. The animals then ate the trunk of the tree, which is of a very soft and fibrous nature. He was able to save the whole of his herd by making similar use of the bottle trees which are particularly numerous in North Queensland.
Thus has time vindicated me in details. It has vindicated me to such an extent that I feel I may at last confess boldly that the statement that I had lived for thirty years among the aborigines was not correct. That that unfortunate statement has shattered the whole of what I hoped might be a great career as a man of scientific knowledge is, I am afraid, only too patent.
The fault was not wholly mine; and I can only ask the public to forgive, and to take into consideration the frightful penalty of discredit and hardship that I have had to suffer as its result. -Star, 4/6/1906.
DE ROUGEMONT'S FEAT.
ADVENTURER'S DEMONSTRATION OF TURTLE RIDING.
After years of waiting, Mr Louis de Rougemont, who astonished the world with his extraordinary tales of adventure, was given an opportunity on July 6 of demonstrating his ability to ride astride turtles swimming under his control.
The scene of the achievement was the London Hippodrome, after the usual mid-day performance, and there was an audience of not more than thirty privileged persons. Mr de Rougemont, in bathing costume, and standing on the edge of the great tank, addressed a few words to the audience about himself and the huge turtle that lay almost inanimate at his feet.
"There was so much doubt cast on my story of riding turtles," he said, "that I have since been sorry I mentioned it; but that was the incident of my adventures that drew most attention to my name, and I am going to try and show you now, under great difficulties, that it was no idle statement."
The turtle weighed about two cwt, and since it was captured on the coast of Nicaragua it has eaten little food. It was a female, and M de Rougemont explained that the male is much better able to carry a man. A turtle of three to four cwt was better fitted for a man of his weight — ten stone. Passing his hands over the turtle — to mesmerise it, he explained — Mr de Rougemont pushed the sleepy-looking creature into the water and got astride it. At first the turtle was inclined to get out again, but the brown-skinned jockey, sitting erect and holding the shell near the neck with one hand, beat the water with the other, at the same time shouting excitedly, " Yatali!" "Yatali!"
Then the turtle began to swim very slowly towards the centre of the tank.
The progress through the water was very slow, but the rider continued his cries, and beat the water on either side of his mount to guide it. When the centre of the tank was reached, Mr de Rougemont slipped off and quickly turned the creature on its back, righted it again, and remounted, keeping clear of the dangerous flappers. A round of applause awarded his efforts. -Star, 25/8/1906.
ROUGEMONT REDIVIVUS.
GOING TO STIR THE WORLD AGAIN.
LONDON, January 6. Louis de Rougemont, whose narratives of his alleged wonderful exploits in Central Australia startled and deceived the world some years ago, has reappeared in London. According to the Daily Express he is about to make preparations to lead a new expedition to the Antarctic. The paper says that the famous story-teller is influentially backed, and that his explorations in the interior of Australia will have much to do with the strategic railway projects now being carried out. Rougemont announced that he will meet his committee, and that he will then make a statement which will send a wave of emotion throughout the world. -Poverty Bay Herald, 14/1/1914.
DE ROUGEMONT MARRIED.
WEDS ENGLISH BRIDE.
"WILL YET STARTLE THE WORLD."
Louis de Rougemont, whose famous story of riding a turtle startled the world some years ago, has been married in London at a west End registry office, the bride being Miss Thirsa Cooper.
The lady carries on an occupation in Regent Street as a financial agent, under the name of "Cooper," mainly transacting business clients in London and Paris.
The wedding ceremony, according to one who was present, was quite a ''simple affair," no friends or relatives being present except a lady and gentleman well known in London society. M. de Rougemont looked well and happy, and bore himself in debonair fashion. Mme. Louis de Rougemont is a strikingly handsome woman, possessed of considerable charm of manner, her personality being more French than English, although she was born of English parents.
Met in London.
An uncle of the bride — now dead — was at one time, it is understood, a distinguished figure on the English stage, and madame herself enjoys the reputation of being a clever amateur actress in artistic circles in London and Paris.
When 21 years of age she married a French stockbroker in Paris, who committed suicide. She married again, and divorced her husband, some three years ago. And now just to illustrate the French saying, "Jamais deux sans trois." she has married Louis de Rougemont. She met Louis de Rougemont in London for the first time some few months ago in connection with literary work, and found him a delightful "child of Nature," recounting for hours together tales true and marvellous.
She has said, when discussing her husband with mutual friends before her marriage, "one cannot be dull in the company of Louis de Rougemont. His imagination is livelier than that of other men. And then, when he presented the truth interestingly, the world called him an outrageous liar."
"I Believe in Him."
"One of the things they poured scorn upon him for was his statement that in Australia he saw the sun obscured by great flocks of wild ducks. Australian friends of mine have quite recently corroborated this, having seen the phenomenon themselves. And as for his ability to ride turtles, it is one thing for a young man to do, as he himself actually did, and quite another thing to expect an old man to repeat such youthful exploits.
"I believe in Louis de Rougemont. He will yet startle the world with the revelation of a great truth, and those who have thrown stones at him will live to see his name vindicated before the world."
M. and Mme. de Rougemont are now preparing for a trip to Australia, in connection with "a highly interesting discovery," the nature of which, however, is being kept a profound secret. For the present they are quietly residing in London, monsieur engaging himself in playwriting, and in the study of the occult, in which latter science he has always delved deeply. -NZ Herald, 18/9/1915.
Pars about people.
Louis de Rougemont, the clever old imaginer who said he rode winged wombats in the Australian bush and found a race of white blackfellows, gum trees with the roots in the air, and so forth, is eighty -four years of age, with a countenance like crinkled parchment. This writer has a genuine admiration for de Rougemont, and there never was any reason why the earth should rise at him and call him a liar. He was at least a more interesting liar than the New Zealander who exposed him. People don't rush about exposing novelists or daily papers. That isn't the point — the point is that Louie, who has a number of relatives in Auckland of great influence in a certain religious sect, has just married a young lady in London. The lady is said to be nineteen years old. Louis is only 84. They met on the tennis court, and Louis having beat the girl five games out of six, ultimately challenged her brother (the champion of the South London Harriers) to a ten miles run across country, beating him by 38 minutes! The athletic brother gave the bride away. The "Wide World Magazine" (which publishes only matter that is perfectly true!) has full permission to reprint this paragraph. -Observer, 25/9/1915.
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR.
LOUIS DE ROUGEMONT. Sir — The following extract from the letter from a wounded New Zealander in London may be of interest to any readers who remember the startling account of Louis de Rougemont's travels in Australia, written by him for the Wide World magazine some years ago: —
I have some amusing news for you this time. The other day as I was walking through a little-used short cut to the Strand, I was accosted by a rather shabbygenteel chap of about 60. His overcoat was open, and under it showed a shining frock coat, and on his head was a greasy slouch hat, a few sizes too small for him. He asked me several questions about New Zealand, which was a country he seemed well acquainted with. He said he had been "rambling" there. When he lived in Australia he frequently went across for a "ramble"; it was a fine country to "ramble" in. Had I then known who he was I might have told him that he had upon occasion "rambled" pretty far from the well of truth, for he was no other than Louis de Rougemont. He told me he was a writer of stories, which made me remark that I might have read some of them, and led me to ask his name. The surprise with which I learned that he was de Rougemont' almost deprived me of the power of speech. I had a long talk with him, and we laughed together over his article in the Wide World. He told me (he speaks with a jerk): "You know — every writer — likes to have — a joke — with the public — sometimes." Then a splutter of merriment. He has spent the last six years in Turkestan, Persia, Thibet, and round about there. He is engaged in writing an account of his travels, which he says is to be published by an American magazine. As he did not say which magazine I conclude that he has not yet decided which one shall be favoured with his precious MSS. His last words were: "I hope — you will live — to grow one like this," and he fondly stroked a somewhat scraggy beard which I should not be at all proud of. Anyway, I was pleased to meet the "old bird," for he is an interesting and a picturesque character. —I am, etc., Otago. -Otago Daily Times, 26/12/1917.
VARIOUS CABLES
VARIOUS CABLES
DE ROUGEMONT AGAIN.
LONDON, January 1. A man named Louis Redmond, claiming to be De Rougemont, is seriously ill in a hospital in London.
[Louis De Rougemont's narrative of adventures in Central Australia was published in the 'Wide World Magazine' about quarter of a century ago, and subsequent investigation of his tall stories led to his name becoming a by-word — a cross between Ananias and Jules Verne.] -Evening Star, 3/1/1920.
LONDON, January 1. A man named Louis Redmond, claiming to be De Rougemont, is seriously ill in a hospital in London.
[Louis De Rougemont's narrative of adventures in Central Australia was published in the 'Wide World Magazine' about quarter of a century ago, and subsequent investigation of his tall stories led to his name becoming a by-word — a cross between Ananias and Jules Verne.] -Evening Star, 3/1/1920.
“LOUIS DE ROUGEMONT”
FAMOUS AUTHOR-"ADVENTURER” ILL.
Australian and N.Z. Cable Association. LONDON. January 1. A man named Louis Redmond, claiming to be “Louis de Rougemont,” is seriously ill in hospital.
“Louis de Rougemont’’ was admitted to hospital on December 10th. He is a gaunt, wrinkled, white-bearded old man, and gave his age as eighty-five. He freely discusses his former “adventures'’ with the nurses. The “Daily Express’’ says that when last seen in London in 1914 he endeavoured to arrange a South Polar expedition. He married Miss Thirsa Cooper in 1914, and then disappeared.
(Received January 4, 5.5 p.m.) LONDON, January 2.
The “Daily Express" says that Redmond is definitely “Louis de Rougemont.’’ He has been living in England since the outbreak of the war. Latterly he has been living in the basement of an empty house at Kingston, but he always seemed to have sufficient money. His tall, gaunt figure was a familiar sight in the neighbourhood.
It is some years since anything has been heard of “Louis de Rougemont,’’ who created a stir by a series of magazine articles telling of extraordinary adventures. The most extraordinary alleged feature of “de Rougemont’s” scare stories was the manner in which they completely duped his many thousands of readers. Probably it was the author’s style alone that carried conviction. -NZ Times, 5/1/1920.
Persons, Plebs and Plutes
The once famous M. Louis de Rougemont, notorious for wonderous lies of savagery and hair-breadth escapes, is now quietly living in the West End of London; and is noted for his eccentricity. He developed the not original whim of having had his coffin made, and like Sarah Bernhardt, has a fancy for sleeping in it on cold nights! The undertaker, we believe, had some shock when he called to take the necessary measurements. "May I look at the corpse?" he asked. "You are looking at him," was de Rougemont's pleasant reply. The undertaker said this was the one and greatest shock of his life. -NZ Truth, 30/4/1921.
"WORLD'S GREATEST LIAR."
DEATH OF DE ROUGEMONT.
(Received 11 a.m.) LONDON, June 12. Louis de Rougemont died under the name of Louis Redmond. He was suffering from an internal complaint, brought on by a tube accident, for some years. He had been living quietly in London, and had a large circle, of friends. He maintained extraordinary mental vigour till the end. During the war he invented a patent food to take the place of meat, and part of his income was derived from the proceeds of this idea. He married, in 1915 the widow of a French stockbroker. The papers make long references to his career, and refer to him as the world's greatest liar.-(A. and N.Z. Cable.) -Auckland Star, 13/6/1921.
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| Photo by H Walter Barnett, held by the National Portrait Gallery. |
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