ROUGEMONT LECTURES.

Gisborne Times, Volume V, Issue 69, 25 March 1901, Page 3

ROUGEMONT LECTURES.

HE TELLS HIS “ FAIRIES ” IN AUSTRALIA. By Telegraph—Pre33 AiSjoDtion— Copyright Received Marcli 25. 1 a.m. Sydney, March 24. Rougemont related the story of his life and adventures in Northern Australia to a large audience. He obtained a good hearing, except that he was subjected to a running fire of “ chaff.”

Melbourne, March 18. Louis de Rougemont, the famous nr

mancer, attempted to tell some thrilling adventures at the Bijou Theatre, but the audience made things too hot, and after the first three minutes he retired.

M. de Rougemont recently visited the office of this. Melbourne Herald, and was there interviewed.

“Here, says the Herald, follows the only full; true, and particular accounts, never before previously published, of how the “ Adventures of Louis de Rougemont” came to be written. Of the “ adventures ” themselves the full, truo, and particular account has already been written—by M. de Rougemont under the sub-heading of “As told by himself.” “ I went to London,” ho says, “ to exploit a diving patent, and when I found that scientists would have nothing to do with deep-sea diving at such depths, I cast about for something else. I had heard of one person only in London—Mr Henniker Heaton, the penny-post man, anil I wrote a few lines to him, asking for an interview. He replied concisely : ‘At his club, 1 o’clock and 3 o’clock ; at the House, 7 o’clock.’ I saw’him at 1 o’clock. He asked me to put my views on paper. I went away, and filled six or seven pages of foolscap, with the idea of the book, briefly indicated as 1 Pearling,’ 1 Deep Sea Diving,’ 1 Cannibalism,’ • Adventures in Unexplored Australia,’ and so on. He at once gave me a letter of introduction to Sir G. Newnes, of the ‘ Wide World Magazine,’ in which he said that I was the best romancist he had heard of since Jules Verne.

“ I went to Sir G. Newnes, and I simply show'ed him Mr Heaton’s letter, and tho draft I had drawn out. He looked at mo for a moment, and said :

“ ‘ Do you want any money?’ “ I shrugged my shoulders. “ Ah, well,” I said, “ I do not say that L am in want of money, but it is always acceptable.” “ Then we had a talk. I told him what is the truth, that though my ideas flow quick, I can write but slowly. It was arranged then that I should come in every day and dictate to a shorthand writer. After he had transcribed his notes they wore revised by the editor. But the final proofs wore always submitted to me. Even the illustrations were done under my constant supervision, so that there could bo no possible error. lam glad to say that I have laid the foundations of a lifo-long friendship with tho artist. “ My paymont was to bo dependent on results. Well, tho book, as you know, croatod an immense sensation. I got some cheques—always for £lO each. And, of course, as I went on, I saw more and more of what they wanted —and you know it is permitted to the litterateur to give some slight—what shall we say ?—embellishment. Well, I embellished my adventures. What is there in that ? It is always douo. I met at a meeting of the British Association a lady who had travelled in China and written books, and is everywhere recognised as an authority. She confessed to me that she always embellished her books, and that the embellishment was the chief success.

“ And what I say to you now is that these adventures are absolutely true—with embellishment—for instance, there is that turtle-riding affair. I could have explained that in a second. But it is so simple that it would spoil the romance. I can tell you I have ridden hundreds—thousands—of turtles just that very way, and thought nothing of it.” “ But what is tho secret ?”

“ Well, first you must catch your turtle in shallow water. Then you must see he is a male. The female turtle is sulky and sinks instantly to the bottom. But the male, he is full of energy, and he makes at once for tho doep water. You seo it is simple when it is explained 1” “ But about those white girls, now ?” We are uncertain whether M. do Bougcmout blushed, but certain mechanical operations took place in his features. He said, after a pause : “ Oh, there, I confess, there was an embellishment.”

“ You mean there were no girls ?” “ No, my friend ; there was only one.” Melancholy recollections seemed to overcome him at this moment. Doubtless

his mind wandered to his long-lost Yamba and tho menus of the Leopold Rang os, and the time when mixed bathing was instituted on the shores of Cambridge Guff. But he conquored his grief, and explained:— “ There was only one lady. The name of the ship is as well known to mo as it is to you.. So is the name of the lady. But I have promised her on my honor never to reveal her name. If I did it woul d cause a sensation in tho highest society. “As to the flight of wombats. Well, you know I have had more trouble about that than anything else. I simply wrote ‘ bats,’ and Sir George Newnes assured me that the word ‘ worn ’ crept in in the proof. He specially argued with mo on the subject, and said ho could not find any flying wombats. So that is why. Me not to know wembats! I have seen more wombats than any man in Australia. I have been interested in them when I was wandering about in Gippsland, and on the Omco hills, and they were running about like pigs.” “ But how did the exposure come about ?”

“ Well, I was one night dining in tho West End—vory high people—and just before dinner the host came to me and said:—

“ ‘Oh, M. de Rougemont, have you seen

the evening papers?’ “ When I said ‘ No,’ he handed one to me containing a paragraph from, I think 1 the Sydney Daily Telegraph, stating that I had left three wives in Australia, a Mrs Black, a Mrs White, aud a Mrs Green.”

“ A bit awkward, that.” “ Oh, no, I simply said, ‘ They are all colours. The author of this paragraph must be colour-blind.’ Just chaff, you know and it passed off.

“ But the first man who really attacked me was Louis Becke. It was admitted by the best people in England that I demolished him. Then a man called Carnegie, son of tho Earl of Southesk attacked me. Of course, I could not adopt the rude English expedient of saying, 1 You’re a liar,’ so I just covered him with ridiculo.

But tho worst was that of a girl whom I employed—she was about 28 or 29, and did my washing—wrote to the Daily Chroniclo and recognised mo as her long lost brother. Now, of course, I do not know what the Daily Chronicle paid her for that. But I showed to them that while she was born only in 1867, I had left Switzerland in 1563, so that she could 'not have recognised me anyway—oh, do you think so ? “ And, mind you, as to m3’ experiences, I have never been contradicted. I have lectured before the Eoyal Geographical Societ3’ and the British Association, and I

have been questioned by the keenest intellects, with the result that the most eminent men in Britain and on the Continent recognise that in the domain of anthropolog3’ lam supreme. I will give you an instance.

“ One night, at the British Association, a gentleman declared that the Australian native was' the only savage on earth who was not terrified at thunder and lightning. I said at once, 1 1 can explain that.’ They listened to me with intenso interest. I said :—‘ The Australian native is not frightened of thunder and lightning because be knows that thunder brings rain ; rain heaps plenty of fish, and plenty of fish means a full belly. So the Australian native is glad.’ It created a sensation. I was assured by ladies and gentlemen that it was the most logical reasoning they ever heard.”

But all things are capable of explanation —if you only know how.