The Pictorial Press Part 19

In such a case, if time presses, the two parts of the drawing are proceeded with simultaneously. The whole design is first traced on the block; the bolts at the back of the block are then loosened, the parts are separated, and the figure-draughtsman sets to work on his division of the block, while another draughtsman is busied with the landscape or architecture, as the case may be. Occasionally, when there is very great hurry, the block is separated piece by piece as fast as the parts of the drawing are finished--the engraver and draughtsman thus working on the same subject at the same time. Instances have occurred where the draughtsman has done his work in this way, and has never seen the whole of his drawing together. The double-page engraving of the marriage of the Prince of Wales in the _Ill.u.s.trated London News_, March 21, 1863, was drawn on the wood by Sir John Gilbert at 198 Strand, and as fast as each part of the drawing was done it was separated from the rest and given to the engraver. Considering that the artist never saw his drawing entire, it is wonderful to find the engraving so harmonious and effective. Photographing on the wood is now in general use for portraits, sculpture, architecture, and other subjects where there is a picture or finished drawing on paper to work from.

The drawing on wood being completed, it pa.s.ses into the hands of the engraver, and the first thing he does is to cut or set the lines across all the joins of the block before the different parts are distributed among the various engravers. This is done partly to ensure as far as possible some degree of harmony of colour and texture throughout the subject. When all the parts are separated and placed in the hands of different engravers each man has thus a sort of _key-note_ to guide him in the execution of his portion, and it should be his business to imitate and follow with care the colour and texture of the small pieces of engraving which he finds already done at the edge of his part of the block where it joins the rest of the design. The accompanying cuts represent a block entire and the same subject divided.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A BLOCK BEFORE IT IS TAKEN TO PIECES.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SAME SUBJECT DIVIDED.]

Though this system of subdividing the engraving effects a great saving of time, it must be admitted that it does not always result in the production of a first-rate work of art as a whole. For, supposing the subject to be a landscape with a good stretch of trees, the two or three engravers who have the trees to engrave have, perhaps, each a different method of rendering foliage; and when the whole is completed, and the different pieces are put together, the trees perhaps appear like a piece of patchwork, with a distinct edge to each man's work. To harmonise and dovetail (so to speak) these different pieces of work is the task of the superintending artist, who retouches the first proof of the engraving and endeavours to blend together the differences of colour and texture. This is often no easy task, for the press is generally waiting, and the time that is left for such work is often reduced to minutes where hours would scarcely suffice to accomplish all that might be done.

Or the block to be engraved may be a marine subject, with a stormy sea.

In this case, like the landscape, two or three engravers may be employed upon the water, each of them having a different way of representing that element. Here it is even more difficult than in the landscape to blend the conflicting pieces of work, and requires an amount of 'knocking about' that sometimes astonishes the original artist. All this is the necessary result of the hurry in which the greater part of newspaper engravings have to be produced. When the conditions are more favourable better things are successfully attempted, and of this the ill.u.s.trated newspapers of the day have given abundant proofs.

It is obvious that when a block is divided and the parts are distributed in various hands, if any accident should occur to one part the whole block is jeopardised. It is much to the credit of the fraternity of engravers that this rarely or ever happens. I only remember one instance of a failure of this kind within my own experience. An engraver of decidedly Bohemian character, after a hard night's work on the tenth part of a page block, thought fit to recruit himself with a cheering cup. In the exhilaration that followed he lost the piece of work upon which he had been engaged, and thereby rendered useless the efforts of himself and his nine compatriots.

When the block is finished the parts are screwed together by means of the bra.s.s bolts and nuts at the back of the block. It is then delivered to the electrotyper, who first takes a mould of the block in wax, which mould is then covered with a thin coating of blacklead, that being a good conductor of electricity. The mould is then suspended by a bra.s.s rod in a large bath filled with a solution of sulphate of copper and sulphuric acid. A strong current of electricity, obtained from a dynamo-electric machine close at hand, is conducted to the wax mould in the bath and also to a sheet of copper which is placed near the mould.

The electricity decomposes the copper and deposits it in small particles on the mould, on which a thin coating of copper is gradually formed, producing an exact facsimile of the original engraved block. This copper reproduction of the woodcut is filled in at the back with metal, mounted on wood, and is then ready for the printer, who has his 'overlays' all ready, and the business of printing begins.

There is nothing more wonderful in the history of printing than the rapid development of the printing machine and the extraordinary increase of its productive power. The ordinary press, though greatly improved, was found quite inadequate to the demands made upon it; and, the attention of practical men being directed to some more rapid means of production, the steam printing machine was invented. As early as 1790 Mr. W. Nicholson obtained letters patent for a machine very similar to those since in use; but it was not till 1814 that any practical use was made of the steam printing machine. In that year a German named Konig constructed a machine for the _Times_ newspaper, which worked successfully; but, though highly ingenious, the machine was very complicated, and it was soon superseded by the invention of Messrs.

Applegarth and Cowper, possessing several novel features. This machine, again, was replaced by another where the type was arranged vertically.

Then came Hoe's American machines, and finally the Walter Press, the principle of which last invention has, in the Ingram Rotary Machine, been successfully applied to the printing of cheap ill.u.s.trated newspapers. By the old 'two-feeder' machines the engravings were printed on one side of the sheet, and, by a second printing, the type on the other side. They turned out 1500 impressions of the engravings in an hour, while the type side was printed (by a six-feeder American machine) at the rate of 12,000 impressions an hour. The _Penny Ill.u.s.trated Paper_ is printed by the Ingram Rotary Machine at the rate of 6500 an hour. It prints both sides of the sheet at once, cuts each number to its proper size, folds it, and turns it out complete. It occupies no more s.p.a.ce than an ordinary perfecting machine, and only requires four men to attend to it, while thirty men and five 'two-feeders' would be required to do the same amount of work by the old system.

If a block be well engraved and carefully used in printing there is practically no limit to the number of impressions that may be taken from it. The blocks in the Christmas number of the _Ill.u.s.trated London News_ of 1882 had 425,000 impressions taken from them, and they are still good for a new edition of the like number.

After the paper is printed each sheet is neatly folded by folding machines, which fold the entire edition in a few hours. One double-action folding machine will fold fifty sheets in a minute. As it is found that machinery for folding newspapers works much better at a moderate speed, in the case of the Ingram Rotary Machine it has been arranged in duplicate, so that each folder only works at half the speed of the printing machine. The folding machine completes its work by inserting the paper in its cover; but as the _Ill.u.s.trated London News_ has not sufficient s.p.a.ce for machines to carry out the whole of this part of the business, a number of women and girls are employed, whose nimble fingers supplement the work of the folding machines.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE EVE OF A BATTLE: NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENTS SLEEPING ON THE FIELD.]

In these days of electric telegraphy Puck's notion of putting 'a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes' is not so very far from being realised. The London citizen as he sips his coffee at his villa in the suburbs runs his eye over the pages of his morning paper, and reads of events that took place yesterday many thousand miles away. Before he starts for business he is informed of what is pa.s.sing on every side of the inhabited earth. This rapid transmission of intelligence is somewhat damaging to the ill.u.s.trated newspaper, for by the time it can publish sketches of interesting events in far distant countries the freshness of the news is gone, and the public mind is occupied with later occurrences. Until some method is invented of sending sketches by electricity the pictorial press must endure this disadvantage, but in the meantime it spares no pains to overtake the march of events.

Wherever there is any 'moving accident by flood or field' the 'special artist' of the ill.u.s.trated newspaper is found 'takin' notes.' No event of interest escapes his ever ready pencil. He undergoes fatigues, overcomes formidable difficulties, and often incurs personal danger in fulfilling his mission. On the eve of a battle he will sleep on the bare ground wrapped in a blanket or waterproof sheet, and he will ride all night through a hostile country to catch the homeward mail. He is equally at home in the palace and the hovel, and is as ready to attend a battle as a banquet. He thought nothing of stepping over to China to attend the nuptials of the celestial Emperor; and on that occasion extended his travels until he had completed the circuit of the globe, winding up with a run on the war-path among the American Indians. He a.s.sisted at the laying of the telegraph cable between Europe and America, and diversified his labours, and showed the versatility of his powers by taking part in an impromptu dramatic entertainment which he and his comrades got up for the occasion, and which they appropriately called 'A Cable-istic Extravaganza.' He was at the opening of the Suez Ca.n.a.l, and he pa.s.sed with the first railway train through the Mont Cenis tunnel. In pursuing his vocation the special artist has to encounter the perils of earth, air, fire, and water. Now he is up in a balloon, now down in a coal-mine; now shooting tigers in India, now deer-stalking in the Highlands. Dr. Schliemann no sooner announced that he had discovered the site of Troy than the special artist was down upon the spot at once.

He is found risking his life in the pa.s.ses of Afghanistan, and in Zululand a.s.sisting at the defeat and capture of Cetywayo. Now he is at the bombardment of Alexandria, and now facing the savage warriors of the Soudan at El-Teb and Tamasi. At the present time (November, 1884), he is on his way up the Nile with the expedition for the relief of General Gordon at Khartoum, and he is in India with the Boundary Commissioners exploring the dangerous pa.s.ses of the Afghan frontier. In peace or war the special artist pursues his purpose with stoical self-possession in spite of cold, hunger, and fatigue.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A CABLE-ISTIC EXTRAVAGANZA, PERFORMED BY NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENTS ON BOARD THE _GREAT EASTERN_, AT SEA, JULY, 1866.]

The special artist may be said to have commenced his career with the Crimean War. While the signs of the coming storm were yet distant the _Ill.u.s.trated London News_ sent the late Mr. S. Read to the expected scene of action, and during the whole course of the war special artists were on the sh.o.r.es of the Black Sea and in the Baltic to chronicle the great events of the time. The world had scarcely forgotten Balaklava and Inkerman when the war between Italy, France, and Austria broke out.

Solferino and Magenta were fought, Garibaldi conquered Sicily, and wherever the interest was greatest there the special artist was found.

Special artists went with the contending armies when Denmark opposed herself single-handed to the united forces of Prussia and Austria, and delineated every important incident of the campaign. When the present Emperor of Germany was crowned King of Prussia at Konigsberg special artists travelled to that ancient city to furnish sketches of the ceremony. The gigantic civil war in America, and the brief struggle between Prussia and Austria in 1866, gave active employment to the special artist; and when a British force advanced into Abyssinia a special artist was with that most romantic expedition, and sent home numerous sketches of the remarkable scenery of the country, as well as of all the princ.i.p.al events of the campaign. The a.s.sault on Magdala, the dispersion of King Theodore's broken army, the customs and dwellings of the people, were all noted and ill.u.s.trated. When the great war of 1870, between France and Prussia, broke out, the ill.u.s.trated newspapers had special artists on both sides, who encountered all sorts of hards.h.i.+ps, and pa.s.sed through all kinds of adventures in fulfilling their duties.

Besides being frequently arrested as spies, and undergoing the privations of beleagured places, they had also to run the risk of shot and sh.e.l.l, and sometimes they were obliged to destroy their sketching materials under fear of arrest. One of them was in custody as a spy no less than eleven times during the war. The danger of being seen sketching or found with sketches in their possession was so great that on one occasion a special artist actually swallowed his sketch to avoid being taken up as a spy. Another purchased the largest book of cigarette papers he could obtain, and on them he made little sketches, prepared in case of danger to smoke them in the faces of his enemies.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HEADQUARTERS OF SPECIAL ARTIST IN ASIA MINOR, 1877.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: ARREST OF NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENTS AT METZ, DURING THE FRANCO-GERMAN WAR.]

The following extract from a letter I received from a special artist during the war, will give some idea of the trouble and danger of sketching:--

'Of the trouble I have taken to get these sketches you can have no conception. The plan I have been obliged to adopt is this. I walk about quietly, apparently noticing only the goods in the shop-windows. When I see anything, I make memoranda on small bits of tissue paper, perhaps in a cafe, or while appearing to look at the water from the top of a bridge, or on the side of an apple, with a big knife in my hand pretending to peel it. These little mems I roll up into pills, place them handy in my waistcoat pocket to be chewed up or swallowed if "in extremis." When I get home at night, first making sure that I am not overlooked by way of the window, I unroll these little pills, and from those mems make a complete outline on a thin piece of white paper. Then I paste these sketches face to face, trim the edges, and it looks like a plain piece of paper, but hold it up to the light and the sketch shows.

So I make memoranda all over it,--the times of trains starting, prices of articles, or extracts from newspapers. When I get to a place of safety, I soak these pieces of paper in water, pull the sketches apart, and from them have made the sketches I have forwarded to you. If I could not get into a place of safety to make the sketches, I don't know what I should do, in fact I don't think I could do anything, for I would not, for any consideration _be found making a sketch, nor with a sketch in my possession_; nor should I dare post a sketch at the "Bureaux de poste,"

but I might get it into a street box.'

Another special artist being at Metz, found himself in the midst of a population infected with what he called the 'spy-fever.' About a dozen English newspaper correspondents were there, and they became a united body through persecution. There was always about a fourth of their number in prison, and what most persons would have considered to be clear evidence that they were not spies, was in the minds of the French clear evidence that they were. If they were told that the correspondent of an English newspaper could not possibly be a spy, the reply was that that was just the character that a _cochon_ of a Prussian spy would a.s.sume. The townspeople of Metz became quite wild when they heard of the French defeats at Worth and Forbach, and when they saw an artist sketching the Emperor's carriage, they pounced upon him as a Prussian spy, and he and his companions were marched off in custody, amid the hootings of the mob. The following account of this affair is extracted from the _Ill.u.s.trated London News_ of August 20, 1870: 'Three of the representatives of London papers, Mr. Simpson, Mr. Henry Mayhew and his son, went to the railway station, having heard a rumour that the Emperor was about to start for the front, and also that a train full of the wounded was expected to arrive. At the station they met Mr. Stuart, another newspaper correspondent, who had just come from Italy, having travelled all night. They found the Emperor's carriage and horses waiting to be forwarded by a train on the railway towards St. Avold. Our artist thought it would be doing no harm to employ the few minutes of his waiting at the station in making a slight sketch of the carriage and horses, which might be useful as materials for an ill.u.s.tration of some future scene where the same equipage might figure. He took a small sketch-book and pencil out of his pocket and quickly finished this little drawing. There was no attempt at concealment; he even showed his sketch to one of the bystanders who was close to him, and who seemed to watch his movements with some curiosity. Mr. Simpson then rejoined his three English companions, but had scarcely done so before they were surrounded by a large party of artillery soldiers, who wore undress jackets and had not their arms with them. They were taken into custody, each one placed between two soldiers, and thus were marched through the streets of Metz to the Place de la Cathedral. A mob of people followed, increasing as they went on, and reviling the foreigners as "Sacres Prusses," or "Cochons de Prusses," threatening vengeance upon them, which might probably have been taken if their violence had not been restrained by the presence of the soldiers. The whole party were then brought into the guard-room, where several persons came forward as their accusers to denounce them as spies of the enemy, lurking about Metz with a hostile and insidious purpose. The chief evidence against one of them was that he had bought three copies of a Metz local newspaper; another was suspected because he had been seen four days successively in the same cafe, "and always sitting in the same seat;" a third could be no true man, because, while he said he belonged to a London paper, he confessed that he had just come from Florence. The main charge against Mr. Simpson was that he did not lodge at an hotel, but in a private house. These particulars were repeated to the crowd outside, which filled the whole Place, and was in a state of raging fury; till at last the officers in charge made their appearance and commenced a more regular examination. Our artist produced his pa.s.sport, which was approved as in due order; but his little sketch-book, with its sc.r.a.ps of notes and bits of outline, seemed to contain matter for serious investigation. In spite of his awkward and rather alarming position, he was struck with the absurdity of viewing such innocent scrawls as proof of heinous guilt. He endeavoured, however, with the a.s.sistance of Mr.

Mayhew, to explain what they were, and to persuade the officers that they could do no harm. After a tedious detention, they were permitted to write a note to a friend, who instantly went to the Provost-Marshal, and at once got an order for their immediate release. Their private letters and papers were examined. Several other persons, Frenchmen as well as foreigners, including one who was the artist employed by a Paris ill.u.s.trated paper, were arrested at Metz on the same day; and more than one of them suffered rough usage at the hands of the mob. On the next day they were all ordered to leave the town.' The following is a facsimile of the sketch that produced all this commotion.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE EMPEROR'S CARRIAGE AT METZ.]

The same artist who made his sketches into pills, being at Bremerhafen, found himself so watched and dogged by the police and others who had observed he was a stranger, that he could not make the sketch he wanted.

After much walking about he at length returned to the place where he desired to sketch, and sitting down at the edge of the harbour he began to draw lines with his umbrella on the mud, as if in a fit of abstraction, and soon had sketched in this way the princ.i.p.al points of the scene before him. This he repeated several times, until the view was fixed in his memory, when he retired to the railway-station, and there, un.o.bserved, committed the scene to his sketch-book. On another occasion, in the neighbourhood of Mezieres, he was driven at nightfall to seek a lodging in a very lonely and villainous looking inn. The occupants of the place looked upon him with evil eyes, and dreading lest one more should be added to the numerous graves already near the cabaret, he betook himself to a neighbouring wood, where he spent the whole night surrounded by the carcases of dead horses. At Lyons he penetrated into the theatre where the people were storing corn and flour in antic.i.p.ation of a siege. He had made some hasty notes in his sketch-book, when he was observed and obliged to retreat, followed, however, by several men. He had noticed an umbrella shop round the corner in the next street, and into this shop he rushed, seized an umbrella, opened it, and kept it expanded between himself and the door, as if examining the quality of the silk, while his pursuers ran past, when he demanded the price of the umbrella, paid the money, and walked off, glad to escape at so small a cost. Sometimes his adventures had a more amusing termination. When the spy-fever prevailed very strongly both in France and Germany, he was one day looking into a shop-window when he became conscious that he was watched by two officers. 'Now,'

thought he, 'I am in for it again, and shall certainly be arrested.'

This feeling was confirmed as one of the officers advanced towards him, and raising his hand as if to seize him by the collar, addressed him thus: 'Permit me, monsieur, to adjust the string of your s.h.i.+rt collar, which has escaped from behind your cravat.'[1] This gentleman was somewhat old-fas.h.i.+oned in his costume, and during his wanderings was sometimes mistaken for a sea-captain. He had even received confidential proposals to discuss the question of freight.

The _Ill.u.s.trated London News_ had five artists in the field during the Franco-German war: W. Simpson, R. T. Landells, G. H. Andrews, C. J.

Staniland, and Jules Pelcoq. From the fact of Landells being already known to the Crown Prince of Prussia and several of his staff, it was settled that his destination should be Germany, and I remember that before his departure he expressed to me just the slightest shade of discontent that he should be selected to go on what he thought would be the losing side. He was destined, however, to be present at the proclamation of the German Emperor in the palace of Versailles, and he was one of the first to enter Paris after it capitulated to the German army. Soon afterwards he very nearly experienced the unpleasant consequences of being taken for a German spy. Landells himself was of a dark complexion, and might very well have pa.s.sed for a Frenchman, but on the occasion referred to he was in the company of a brother artist (Mr.

Sidney Hall, of the _Graphic_), who, being fair, might easily be mistaken for German. The excited mob of Paris had just vented their rage on a suspected spy by drowning him in the Seine, and the two special artists were loitering on the outskirts of the crowd, when Mr. Hall imprudently took out his sketch-book, which was no sooner perceived than a cry was raised of 'Prussian spy!' and they too would probably have been pitched into the river had they not managed, with great difficulty, to escape from the crowd.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENTS ON THEIR WAY TO THE FRONT.

SISTOVA, 1877.]

When the German armies were closing round Paris M. Jules Pelcoq consented to be shut up in the devoted city for the purpose of supplying the _Ill.u.s.trated London News_ with sketches. During the hards.h.i.+ps of the siege he was quite unable to obtain fuel to warm his apartment, and was compelled to retire to bed, where, wrapped in a blanket, he finished up the rough sketches he had made out of doors, which were then photographed and sent off by balloons to London. These balloons were regularly despatched during the prevalence of winds that would carry them to the provinces unoccupied by the Germans. They were followed by Prussian light cavalry as long as they were in sight, and some were captured. Afterwards, as the city became more closely invested, and the danger increased, the precaution was taken of despatching the balloons at night, and the time fixed on was kept concealed from all save those immediately concerned, in order to avoid, as far as possible, the chances of its being communicated to the enemy, and thereby exposing the aeronauts to the fiery rockets and other projectiles with which the Germans were prepared to favour them. The railway-stations were generally chosen as the starting-places, for they not only offered large open s.p.a.ces in which to fill the balloons, but, being situated away from the centre of Paris, there was less risk, in ascending, of coming in contact with buildings.

To provide against the loss of sketches so sent, photographic copies were despatched by other balloons. In some cases two, and even three, copies of the same sketch reached my hands by balloon-post during the German investment of Paris. Considering the danger and difficulty of this mode of communication, the intercourse between the _Ill.u.s.trated London News_ and its artist in Paris was kept up pretty regularly during the whole siege.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SKETCHING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. HERZEGOVINA, 1876.]

The requirements of special artists when on the 'war path' vary according to circ.u.mstances. Mr. Simpson, in France during the Franco-German war, found no scarcity of food, but could seldom get a bed to sleep in. On the other hand, Mr. Melton Prior, in South Africa and other hot countries, found that he was never sure of obtaining either food or drink. During the war in Herzegovina in 1876 the newspaper correspondents had to rough it pretty considerably. Sometimes, when the special artist got to a resting-place for the night, he would have to work up his sketches by the light of a single candle, which he kept in an upright position by holding it between his feet as he sat on the ground, while the correspondent of a London 'daily' scribbled his notes beside him. The difficulty of obtaining sleeping accommodation was experienced by another artist in Servia, who was obliged one night to go to rest in a sort of diligence or covered waggon which stood in the inn yard. It was the only 'spare bed,' and the tired 'special' was very glad to coil himself up within its recesses. These hards.h.i.+ps, however, belong to the past. Just as the combatants in modern warfare fight their battles with the most scientific weapons, so the newspaper correspondent now goes to the field armed with the latest appliances against cold, fatigue, hunger, and thirst. He provides himself with an abundant supply of tinned meats and champagne, plenty of clothing, the latest improvements in saddlery; and when he arrives at the scene of action he buys as many horses as he wants for himself and servants. Acting on the experience of former campaigns, Mr. Prior was able in the Zulu War to travel much more comfortably than any member of the staff, not even excepting Lord Chelmsford himself. 'I had then no fewer than five horses: two in the shafts of my American waggon, one for myself, one for my servant, and one spare horse. I followed the army through all its marches in my travelling carriage, and on the eve of the Battle of Ulundi I was the only man who had a tent; all the others lay down in the open.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SPARE BED.]

While recording the progress of events--the deeds of war mingling with the works of peace--the pictorial press is not unmindful of what is done in the cause of humanity. One of the recent experiences of the special artist was in making a journey across Siberia in search of the survivors of the crew of the American exploring s.h.i.+p _Jeanette_. Mr. J. Gordon Bennett, the proprietor of the _New York Herald_, having sent out a commissioner to search for the missing expedition, he was joined by the special artist of the _Ill.u.s.trated London News_. They had before them a journey of two or three thousand miles, and they travelled in one of the covered sledges used in Siberia in the winter time. It was their travelling carriage by day and their sleeping apartment at night.

Sometimes they had to turn out and defend themselves from the wolves which followed them over the snowy waste. The artist on this occasion was Mr. La.r.s.en, of Copenhagen, who proved himself a first-rate special.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SPECIAL ARTIST'S TENT.]

When the effects of a deadly climate are added to the usual chances of war, the courage and endurance of the newspaper correspondent are doubly tried. The 'specials' of the princ.i.p.al London journals joined the Ashantee expedition with as much alacrity as if they had been going to a review in Hyde Park. Among them was Mr. Melton Prior, the artist of the _Ill.u.s.trated London News_, who landed at Cape Coast Castle before the arrival of the British troops, marched with them to Cooma.s.sie, and remained in that place till it was destroyed by the victors. But the long march in such a climate had exhausted the strength of many, and the special artist was among the number. On nearing Cooma.s.sie he could no longer trust to his own unaided powers of locomotion, so he laid hold on the tail of a mule which he saw ambling before him, and so was helped forward. The gentleman who was riding the mule turned round, when it proved to be Sir Garnet Wolseley himself, who, in answer to the exhausted artist's apologies, good-humouredly told him to 'hold on!'

While coolness and courage are indispensable qualifications for the special artist, if he can sometimes accomplish a little harmless dissimulation he finds it very useful. In 1877, during the war between Russia and Turkey, a special artist overcame the difficulties he encountered in getting to the front by a.s.suming the character of a camp-follower, and professing to sell composite candles, German sausages, Russian hams, dried fish, Dutch cheese, &c., and when pa.s.sing Cossacks became importunate they were propitiated with a candle or two, a slice of cheese, or a packet of Roumanian tobacco. In like manner the artist who went to the port of Ferrol to accompany Cleopatra's Needle to London s.h.i.+pped on board the tug _Anglia_ as a coal-trimmer, and signed the usual articles as one of the crew, there being no room for pa.s.sengers. After the successful voyage of the tug the artist left her at Gravesend, being anxious to bring his sketches to head-quarters; but until he was legally discharged from service he ran the unpleasant risk of being taken up for absconding from his s.h.i.+p.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENTS STARTING FOR SIBERIA.]

Not the least of a special artist's troubles is to get his sketches sent home without loss of time. Mr. Simpson, who has had a large and varied experience as a special artist, having been all round the world in that capacity, gives it as his opinion that the first duty of a special correspondent when he arrives at the scene of action is to find out the post-office, if he happens to be in a part of the world where such a civilised inst.i.tution exists. He should take care to post all his packets himself, and never trust to any one else. He says, 'In all my various travels I never lost a packet but once, and that was during the week's fighting at the time of the Commune in Paris. There were three sketches in the packet. I was very dubious about letting them out of my hands, but I had been all the week with the correspondent of the _Times_, who had spent a considerable sum of money upon messengers to get his letters taken through the lines outside Paris and off to London.

I ventured to let my packet go with his, thinking it was safe, but neither of them ever reached their destination.' In connexion with this subject I may quote the following story related by Mr. Prior to the editor of the _Pall Mall Gazette_:--'I remember one time when I was attached to Mehemet Ali's head-quarters in Bulgaria during the Russo-Turkish war. The Turkish censor stopped no fewer than six weeks of my sketches. Things were getting desperate. Our people were telegraphing out to know whether I was alive or dead; and, finding that something must be done, I determined to see the thing through or leave the camp.

It so happened that I had been the witness of some peculiarly atrocious deeds perpetrated by Turks upon Bulgarians, so I set to work and drew half-a-dozen faithful representations of the sufferings which I had witnessed. Armed with these I went up to the censor's office and asked that they might be stamped for transmission home. The censor looked at the first and said it was ridiculous. Couldn't pa.s.s that; no such atrocities had ever been committed; and so forth. The second was condemned in the same way, and so on until the last was reached. When he had rejected that also I said to him very deliberately, "You are going to pa.s.s every one of these sketches!" "On the contrary," said he, "I am going to tear them up." "If you do," said I, "I shall draw not only six but twelve pictures worse than these, and send them home by my own messenger." "I will have him arrested then," said the censor. "Very well, then, in that case I shall leave the camp at once, and in London I will draw twenty pictures all worse than these, and they will all be published, so that people may see the real truth about how you are behaving here." The censor, like a sensible man, saw that it was no use carrying things with too high a hand, and came to terms. He admitted he had stopped all my sketches, promised to do so no more, and I left him with my atrocity pictures in my pocket, a.s.suring him that the first sketch of mine that he stopped again the whole series should go to London by the next steamer. I never had any more trouble with him in that respect, though he paid me out by having me arrested some months later.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: CAMP OF THE 'TIMES' AND 'ILl.u.s.tRATED LONDON NEWS''

CORRESPONDENTS ATTACKED BY WOLVES. BULGARIA, 1877.]

During the Franco-German War Mr. Simpson often proved the advantage of his plan of always posting his sketches himself. At the fall of Strasburg he was in the advanced trench when the white flag was displayed from the tower of the cathedral. It was late in the evening when he got home to bed, but he was up with the first streak of dawn finis.h.i.+ng his sketch of the historical event he had witnessed the day before. He then walked five miles to General Werder's head-quarters to post the sketch. He wasted no time in trying to get a horse or carriage, in which he might have failed, nor would he trust the packet to a messenger. He knew that the slightest delay would postpone the publication of the sketch for a whole week. The sketch arrived in time, as he had calculated, for the next publication, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that on this occasion, as on many others, his prompt.i.tude and energy had well served the interests of the journal he represented.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENTS' HUTS ON THE BATTLE-FIELD OF KACELJEVO, 1877.]

A special artist has to encounter many troubles and vexations apart from the dangers and difficulties of war time. When Mr. Simpson was at Brindisi, on his way to the opening of the Suez Ca.n.a.l, wis.h.i.+ng to sketch the town and fortifications, he ensconced himself in a snug corner, well sheltered from the 'Bora,' or cold wind that was blowing, and had settled down comfortably to work, when he was interrupted by a man who addressed him in Italian, a language Simpson did not understand. He, however, made out that the man's 'padre' or master would not like Simpson to be there; but the latter replied in plain English that he cared nothing for his 'padre,' that he had the permission of the Commandant to go where he pleased, and so he went on with his sketching.

After much unintelligible talk the man attempted to stop the sketcher's view by standing between him and the town, but finding the sketching went on just the same, he suddenly went away and then returned with a gun, pointing it in a threatening manner towards Simpson, who thought the gun was perhaps not loaded, or at all events that the man would never be such a fool as to shoot him, so he merely gave a majestic wave of his hand and went on with his work. The man's rage then increased to such a degree that he seized the b.u.t.t end of his gun, uttering a volley of curses, and from the word 'testa' Simpson supposed the man wanted to smash his head. However he never flinched, and the man, lowering his gun, muttered something about the 'Cani,' and went off again. Presently he returned dragging with him a huge dog. Simpson felt more afraid of the dog than the man, but it turned out that the dog had more sense than his master and refused on any terms to attack the artist. He bolted, the man after him, and Simpson then armed himself with two stones in case the attack should be renewed, resolving, like Tell when he devoted one of his arrows to Gessler, that one stone should be for the dog and the other for his oppressor. The man however could not get the dog to return to the attack. He had exhausted the whole of his resources, and was evidently astonished and annoyed to find he had failed to frighten the artist, so he finished off with a torrent of curses and then gradually calmed down. He remained watching the completion of the sketch, and then obligingly favoured the artist with some criticisms on his work. He pointed out that a s.h.i.+p in the harbour had been forgotten, and could not understand that it had been purposely left out because it interfered with one of the princ.i.p.al buildings. In this instance it was perhaps best for both parties that they did not understand each other's language; but the special artist is occasionally placed at a disadvantage by not understanding the language of the country where he happens to be. However it rarely leads to more than a temporary embarra.s.sment, and is often the cause of more amus.e.m.e.nt than vexation.

Mr. G. H. Andrews on one occasion desired to have a couple of eggs for breakfast, but could not make the maid of the inn comprehend his meaning. He tried all he knew of French, Flemish, and German, but the girl shook her head. At length a bright idea struck the artist. He drew from his pocket a pencil and note-book, and sketched a couple of oval forms, meaning them for eggs, and explained by gestures that _that_ was what he wanted. The girl's face brightened at once when she saw the sketch, and with a nod of intelligence she tripped away. In a few minutes she returned and presented the hungry artist with--_a pair of spectacles!_