Complete Works of Robert Louis Stevenson

by Robert Louis Stevenson

  Editorial Comment. — Unlike many others, we have never lost confidence in General Stevenson; indeed, as our readers may remember, we have always upheld him as a capable, even a great commander. Some little ruffle at Scarlet did occur, but it was, no doubt, chargeable to the hasty Potty; and now, by one of the finest manoeuvres on record, the head general of our victorious armies has justified our most hopeful prophecies and aspirations. There is not, perhaps, an officer in the army who would not have chosen the obvious and indecisive move up the Sandusky, which even our correspondent, able as he is, referred to with apparent approval. Had Stevenson done that, the brave enemy who chooses to call himself Napoleon might have been defeated twelve hours earlier, and there would have been less sacrifice of life in the divisions of Potty and the ignorant Piffle. But the enemy’s retreat would not have been cut off; his general would not now have been a prisoner in our camp, nor should our cannon, advanced boldly into the country of our foes, thunder against the gates of Savannah and cut off the supplies from the army behind Mar. A glance at the map will show the authority of our position; not a loaf of bread, not an ounce of powder can reach Savannah or the enemy’s Army of the East, but it must run the gauntlet of our guns. And this is the result produced by the turning movement at Yolo, General Stevenson’s long inactivity in Sandusky, and his advance at last, the one right movement and in the one possible direction.

  YALLOBALLY RECORD.— “The humbug who had the folly and indecency to pick up the name of Napoleon second-hand at a sale of old pledges, has been thrashed and is a prisoner. Except the Army of the West, and the division on the Mar road, which is commanded by an old woman, we have nothing on foot but scattered, ragamuffin regiments. Savannah is under fire; that will teach Osbourne to skulk in cities instead of going to the front with the poor devils whom he butchers by his ignorance and starves with his peculations. What we want to know is, when is Osbourne to be shot?”

  Note. — The Record editor, a man of the name of McGuffog, was subsequently hanged by order of General Osbourne. Public opinion endorsed this act of severity. My great-uncle, Mr. Phelim Settle, was present and saw him with the nightcap on and a file of his journals around his neck; when he was turned off, the applause, according to Mr. Settle, was deafening. He was a man, as the extracts prove, not without a kind of vulgar talent.

  YALLOBALLY EVENING HERALD.— “It would be idle to disguise the fact that the retreat of our Army of the Centre, and the accidental capture of the accomplished soldier whose modesty conceals itself under the pseudonym of Napoleon, have created a slight though baseless feeling of alarm in this city. Nearer the field the troops are quite steady, the inhabitants enthusiastic, and the loyal and indefatigable Osbourne multiplies his bodily presence. The events of yesterday were much exaggerated by some papers, and the publication of one rowdy sheet, suspected of receiving pay from the enemy, has been suspended by an order from headquarters. Our Army of the West still advances triumphantly unresisted into the heart of the enemy’s country; the force at Yolo, which is a mere handful and quite without artillery, will probably be rooted out to-morrow. Addresses and congratulations pour in to General Osbourne; subscriptions to the great testimonial Osbourne statue are received at the Herald office every day between the hours of 10 and 4.”

  ABSTRACT OF SIX DAYS’ FIGHTING, FROM THE 19TH TO THE 24TH, FROM THE GLENDARULE TIMES SATURDAY SPECIAL.— “This week has been, on the whole, unimportant; there are few changes in the aspect of the field of war, and perhaps the most striking fact is the collapse of Colonel Delafield’s Yolo column. Fourteen hundred killed and eighteen hundred prisoners is assuredly a serious consideration for our small army; yet the good done by that expedition is not wiped away by the present defeat; large reinforcements of troops and much ammunition have been directed into the far east, and the city of Savannah and the enemy’s forces in the pass have thus been left without support. Delafield himself has reached Mar, now in our hands, and the cavalry and stores of the expedition, all safe, are close behind him. Yolo is a name that will never be forgotten. Our forces are now thus disposed: Potty, with the brave artillery, lies behind the south-east shoulder of the Blue Mountains, on the Sandusky and Samuel City road; Piffle, with the Army of the Centre, has fallen back into Sandusky itself; while Stevenson still holds the same position across the Sandusky river, his advance to which will constitute his chief claim to celebrity. Savannah was bombarded from the 18th to the 20th, inclusive; 4,000 men fell in its defence. Osbourne himself, directing operations, was seriously wounded and sent to Yallobally; and on the evening of the 20th the city surrendered, only 600 men being found within its walls. A heavy contribution was raised: but the general himself, fearing to expose his communications, remains in the same position and has not even occupied the fallen city.

  “In the meantime the army from the pass has been slowly drawing down to the support of Savannah, suffering cruelly at every step. Yesterday (24th) Mar was occupied by a corps of our infantry, who fell on the rear of the retreating enemy, inflicting heavy loss.”

  NOTE. — Retreat of the Mar column. The army which so long and so usefully held the passes behind Mar, over the neck of Long Bluff, did not begin to retreat until the enemy had already occupied Mar and begun to engage their outposts. Supplies had already been cut off by the advanced position of Stevenson. The men were short of bread. The roads were heavy; the horses starving. The rear of the column was continually and disastrously engaged with the enemy pouring after. It is perhaps the saddest chapter in the history of the war. My grandmother, Mrs. Hankey (née Pillworthy), then a young girl on a mountain farm on the line of the retreat, distinctly remembers giving a soda biscuit, which was greedily received, to Colonel Diggory Jacks, then in command of our division, and lending him an umbrella, which was never returned. This incident, trivial as it may be thought, emphatically depicts the destitution of our brave soldiers.

  In the meantime, in the west, the enemy are slowly passing the rivers and advancing with their main body on Scarlet, and with a single corps on Glentower. Cinnabar was occupied on the 21st in the morning, and a heavy contribution raised. The situation may thus be stated: In the centre we are the sole arbiters, commanding the roads and holding a position which can only be described as authoritative. In the east, Delafield’s corps has been destroyed; but the enemy’s army of the pass, on the other hand, is in a critical position and may, in the course of a few days or so, be forced to lay down its arms. In the west, nothing as yet is decided, and the movement through the Glentower Pass somewhat hampers General Potty’s position.

  The comparative losses during these days are very encouraging, and compare pleasingly with the cost of the early part of the campaign. The enemy have lost 12,800 men, killed, wounded, and prisoners, as against 4,800 on our side.

  YALLOBALLY HERALD. — Interview from General Osbourne with a special reporter.— “I met the wounded hero some miles out of Yallobally, still working, even as he walked, and surrounded by messengers from every quarter. After the usual salutations, he inquired what paper I represented, and received the name of the Herald with satisfaction. ‘It is a decent paper,’ he said. ‘It does not seek to obstruct a general in the exercise of his discretion.’ He spoke hopefully of the west and east, and explained that the collapse of our centre was not so serious as might have been imagined. ‘It is unfortunate,’ he said, ‘but if Green succeeds in his double advance on Glendarule, and if our army can continue to keep up even the show of resistance in the province of Savannah, Stevenson dare not advance upon the capital; that would expose his communications too seriously for such a cautious and often cowardly commander. I call him cowardly,’ he added, ‘even in the face of the desperate Yolo expedition, for you see he is withdrawing all along the west, and Green, though now in the heart of his country, encounters no resistance.’ The General hopes soon to recover; his wound, though annoying, presents no character of gravity.”

  NOTE. — General Osbourne’s perfect sincerity is doubtful. He must have
known that Green was hopelessly short of ammunition. “Unfortunate,” as an epithet describing the collapse of the Army of the Centre, is perhaps without parallel in military criticism. It was not unfortunate, it was ruinous. Stevenson was a man of uneven character, whom his own successes rendered timid; this timidity it was that delayed the end; but the war was really over when General Napoleon surrendered his sword on the afternoon of the 17th.

  THE DAVOS PRESS

  In the Reproductions which follow of Moral Emblems, etc., by R. L. Stevenson and Lloyd Osbourne, the tint shows the actual size of the paper on which the pamphlets were printed

  NOTICE.

  Today is published by S. L. Osbourne & Co.

  ILLUSTRATED

  BLACK CANYON

  or

  Wild Adventures in the FAR WEST.

  AN

  Instructive and amusing TALE written by

  SAMUEL LLOYD OSBOURNE

  PRICE 6D.

  OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

  Although Black Canyon is rather shorter than ordinary for that kind of story, it is an excellent work. We cordially recommend it to our readers.

  Weekly Messenger.

  S. L. Osbourne’s new work (Black Canyon) is splendidly illustrated. In the story, the characters are bold and striking. It reflects the highest honor on its writer.

  Morning Call.

  A very remarkable work. Every page produces an effect. The end is as singular as the beginning. I never saw such a work before.

  R. L. Stevenson.

  BLACK CANYON

  or

  Wild Adventures in the

  FAR WEST

  A

  Tale of Instruction and Amusement

  for the Young.

  BY

  SAMUEL OSBOURNE

  ILLUSTRATED.

  Printed by the Author.

  Davos-Platz.

  Chapter I.

  In this forest we see, in a misty morning, a camp fire! Sitting lazily around it are three men. The oldest is evidently a sailor. The sailor turns to the fellow next to him and says, “blast my eyes if I know where we is.” “I’s rather think we’re in the vecenty of tho Rocky Mount’ins.” Remarked the young man.

  Suddenly the bushes parted. ‘WHAT!’ they all exclaim, ‘Not BLACK EAGLE?’

  Who is Black Eagle? We shall see.

  Chapter II.

  James P. Drake was a gambler! Not in cards, but in lost luggage! In America, all baggage etc. lost on trains and not reclaimed is put up to auction unopened.

  James was one who always expected to find a fortune in some one of these bags.

  One day he was at the auction house as usual, when a small and exceedingly light trunk was put up for sale. He bought and opened it.

  It was empty! NO! A little bit of paper was in the bottom with this written on it.

  IDAHO

  Being an intelligent young man he knew that this was a clue for finding Hidden TREASURE! Then after a while he made this: In Black Canyon, Idaho, 570 feet west of some mark, 10 feet below a tree Treasure will be found. Beware of Black Eagle (Indian). But he forgot the .

  Chapter III.

  James at once took two friends into his secret: an old sailor (Jack), and a young frontiersman.

  They all agreed that they must start for Black Canyon at once. The frontiersman said he had heard of Black Canyon in Idaho. But who could Black Eagle be?

  Chapter IV.

  Lost! Certainly lost! Lost in the Far West! The Frontiersman had lost them in a large forest. They had travelled for about a month, first by water (See page 4) then by stage, then by horse. This was their third day in it. Just after their morning meal the bushes parted.

  An Indian stood before them! (See 1st Chap.) He merely said ‘COME.’ They take up their arms and do so.

  Chapter V.

  After following him for four hours, he stopped, turned around and said, “Rest, eat you fellows.” They did so. In about an hour they started again. After walking ten miles they heard the roaring of an immense cataract. Suddenly they find themselves face to face with a long deep gorge or canyon. ‘Black Canyon,’ they all cry. ‘Stop,’ says the Indian. He pushes a stone aside. It uncovers the mouth of a small cave. The Indian struck a light with two sticks. They follow him into this cave for about a mile when the cave opens into an immense Grotto. The Indian whistled, a bear and dog appeared. “Bring meat, Nero,” said the Indian.

  The bear at once brought a deer. Which they cooked and ate. Then the Indian said, “Show me the Treasure clue.” His eyes flashed when he saw it.

  Chapter VI.

  MIDNIGHT! The Indian is about to light a fuse to a cask of gunpowder! But James sees him and shoots him before he is able to light the fuse.

  He ran to the side of the dying Indian who made this confession. “I am not an Indian. 10 years ago I met G. Gidean, a man who found a quantity of gold here. Before be died, he sent that clue to a friend who never received it. I knew the gold was here. I have hunted 10 years for it, your clue showed me where IT was,” (here Black Eagle told it to James.) Then Black Eagle DIED.

  Chapter VII.

  20 years have passed! James is the same as ever. Jack is owner of a yacht.

  The Frontiersman owns a large cattle and hog ranch.

  Finis.

  NOT I, AND OTHER POEMS

  BY

  Robert Louis Stevenson,

  Author of

  The Blue Scalper, Travels

  with a Donkey etc.

  PRICE 6d.

  Dedicated to

  Messrs. R. & R. CLARKE

  by

  S.L.Osbourne

  Davos

  1881

  Not I.

  Some like drink

  In a pint pot,

  Some like to think;

  Some not.

  Strong Dutch Cheese,

  Old Kentucky Rye,

  Some like these;

  Not I.

  Some like Poe

  And others like Scott,

  Some like Mrs. Stowe;

  Some not.

  Some like to laugh,

  Some like to cry.

  Some like chaff;

  Not I.

  Here, perfect to a wish,

  We offer, not a dish,

  But just the platter:

  A book that’s not a book,

  A pamphlet in the look

  But not the matter.

  I own in disarray;

  As to the flowers of May

  The frosts of Winter,

  To my poetic rage,

  The smallness of the page

  And of the printer.

  As seamen on the seas

  With song and dance descry

  Adown the morning breeze

  An islet in the sky:

  In Araby the dry,

  As o’er the sandy plain

  The panting camels cry

  To smell the coming rain.

  So all things over earth

  A common law obey

  And rarity and worth

  Pass, arm in arm, away;

  And even so, today,

  The printer and the bard,

  In pressless Davos, pray

  Their sixpenny reward.

  The pamphlet here presented

  Was planned and printed by

  A printer unindent-ed,

  A bard whom all decry.

  The author and the printer,

  With various kinds of skill,

  Concocted it in Winter

  At Davos on the Hill.

  They burned the nightly taper

  But now the work is ripe

  Observe the costly paper,

  Remark the perfect type!

  Begun FEB ended OCT 1881

  MORAL EMBLEMS

  A

  Collection of Cuts and Verses.

  By

  ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

  Author of

  The Blue Scalper, Travels with a Donkey, Treasure Island, Not I etc. />
  See how the children in the print

  Bound on the book to see what’s in’t!

  O, like these pretty babes, may you

  Seize and apply this volume too!

  And while your eye upon the cuts

  With harmless ardour open and shuts,

  Reader, may your immortal mind

  To their sage lessons not be blind.

  Reader, your soul upraise to see,

  In yon fair cut designed by me,

  The pauper by the highwayside

  Vainly soliciting from pride.

  Mark how the Beau with easy air

  Contemps the anxious rustic’s prayer,

  And casting a disdainful eye,

  Goes gaily gallivanting by.

  He from the poor averts his head....

  He will regret it when he’s dead.

  A Peak in Darien.

  Broad gazing on untrodden lands,

  See where adventurous Cortez stands;

  While in the heavens above his head,

  The Eagle seeks its daily bread.

  How aptly fact to fact replies:

  Heroes and Eagles, hills and skies.

  Ye, who contemn the fatted slave,

  Look on this emblem and be brave

  See in the print, how moved by whim

  Trumpeting Jumbo, great and grim,

  Adjusts his trunk, like a cravat,

  To noose that individual’s hat.

  The sacred Ibis in the distance

  Joys to observe his bold resistance.

  Mark, printed on the opposing page,

  The unfortunate effects of rage.