Melbourne Observer. 121107B. November 7, 2012. Part B. Pages 17-25, 28-36

Page 1

Observer Magazine Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 7, 2012 - Page 17

■ There was the end of an era for a Melbourne institution when Reservoir Bus Company was sold this week to the Dyson Group. For almost 100 years, local buses have been vital part of the daily life of the northern suburb and its surrounds. Manager Russell Ward looks back fondly at his 44½-years with Reservoir Bus Company, spanning almost half the history of public transport in the region. Russell looks back proudly at the history of service, orginally provided by a small number of owner-operators. It grew to a group that included RBC, East-West Bus Lines and Melbourne Bus Link, that has in the order of 190 vehicles, and employs more than 300 people. The sale of RBC to the Dyson Group on November 1 marks another chapter in decades of local history. Bus historian Paul Kennelly says the first services in the area, in the 1920s, were operated by the Page family, who were later to be involved with Melbourne and Brighton Bus Lines, Melbourne Motor Coach Service and Australian Pacific. They ran buses from Reservoir direct to Melbourne down High St. “In 1925, when route licensing was introduced, Route 1A was established which terminated at the Northcote tram terminus at the intersection of Plenty Rd, Miller, Dundas and High Sts, referred to as Thornbury Junction,” says Paul, who is Secretary of the Bus and Coach Society of Victoria. “It was extended to Thornbury Station in 1931, but was cut back to Thornbury Junction in 1941. “The route was multiple owneroperated and had two distinct paths. One went to Edwardes Lake via High St, returning via Spring St and Regent Station. “The other went up High St and then went up Cheddar Rd,” Paul recalls. “The Witham brothers had established route 122A (now route 555) from Reservoir to Epping via Lalor in 1948.” In the next few years, a number of other operators joined them and formed Reservoir Motors. “Despite these efforts, the business struggled and needed a significant financial injection. “Enter Pat Cooper in 1954. Pat had operated a successful milk carting business and took a 51 per cent share in a newly formed East Preston and Epping Bus Services Pty Ltd

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ON THE BUSES

● Russell Ward retires after 44½ years with Reservoir Bus Company. He remains as Managing Director of Melbourne Bus Link, and continues his involvement with East-West Bus Lines. Reservoir Bus Company was sold this week to the Dyson Group. Taylor’s interest in Route 1A which Today, the fleet is all Volvo, says END OF AN ERA FOR MELBOURNE OPERATOR meant that EP&EBS and Keith Russell Ward. Williamson and Harry Webb were Over the years, routes expanded the sole operators of the route. into growing suburban areas includEP&EBS was to have its depot at ing Keon Park, Thomastown, Lalor 922 High St, Reservoir, including a and Epping. petrol station. Webb and Williamson In 1966, Myer opened the Northare said to have had their three-bus land Shopping Centre in East depot in Tyler St, Preston. They joined Preston, and services were extended forces in 1964. to cater for shoppers. In the mid 50s, Pat Cooper had Last services out of the centre just also acquired two buses, and two char- after 12 noon Saturdays, when shops ter licences, from Jack Merlo. This then shut, were packed. Russell Ward recalls that there was the genesis of Midland Tours. Cooper’s sons, John and Peter, and was one 10-day railway strike around daughter Carmel, joined the business. this era, with buses replacing the Grandchildren have also been in- trains. It was all hands on deck, with evvolved in the firm. Paul Kennelly says that Reservoir ery possible vehicle put into service. Bus Company was formed in Octo- Fares were just a few cents. “But we almost had enough to buy ● At ‘Thornbury Junction’, a High Street bus prepares for its jour- ber 1968. The track fleet stood at 27 buses, a new bus after that,” he laughs. ney north to Reservoir. The photo is dated to the late 1940s. ● Turn to Page 18 Photo: John Masterton Collection all bar one of them Bedfords. with the existing operators of Reservoir Motors (Pat Quinn, Bill Brown, Del and Jack Witham) each receiving a quarter share of the remainder,” Paul notes. In 1956, EP&EBS bought H E

● In the 1960s, almost the entire Reservoir green-and-cream ● Buses prepare to head south along High Street, Reservoir. In 1925 licensing created Melbourne’s fleet comprised Bedford buses with bodies manufactured at the Route 1A, running from the then-outer northern suburb to the City. Prior to this, the service had been run by the Page family. Commonwealth Aircraft factory at Fishermens Bend.


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BUS STOP

One former employee recalled the advice he was given by one of the proprietors, John Cooper: ‘You are carrying the most precious cargo of all - human lives’ Observer Editor ASH LONG says he still gets ribbed by his family about his young teenage hobby of buses, timetables and tickets. He takes a bus ride down memory lane. ■ In the 1950s, one suburban block away from our home in the northern suburb of Reservoir was a bus stop. Today, that spot at the corner of Delaware St and Mendip Rd, has a concrete seat on the nature strip. For many years that nature strip did not have a seat. Nor did it have a 'Bus Stop' sign. In fact, when I was a youngster, there wasn't even a footpath. But there was the bus. When I was 2 or 3, in 1958-59, the bus stop was my link with the outside world, beyond our street, beyond our neighbours. Going to the bus stop meant a trip to the outside world, to be with other people, to see different colours, to experience, hear, smell, touch different things. A trip to East Preston, usually meant a connecting tram trip from the terminus at Tyler St. This meant a visit to my maternal grandparents in Thornbury, a shopping journey to the City, or perhaps a trip to Foy & Gibson in Smith St, Collingwood/Fitzroy. So a trip to the bus stop was exciting. As was the custom for the time, my mother did not drive a car, so we either walked, or caught the bus. For me, that bus was the dark green and cream vehicles operated by Webb and Williamson, the Coopers, Pat Quinn and others, on a service that became to be run by East Prestion and Epping Services, which later became Reservoir Bus Company. My first hazy memory as a three-year-old is of a bus much smaller than the vehicles we see in the 21st Century. The first buses may have even been as small as 11- or 15-passenger capacity. There were perimeter seats, and shiny vertical chrome poles inside, for standing passengers to grasp. There were printed carboard advertisements above the window line. The bus drivers would take time to say hello, often addressing passengers by name, which would probably have taken the form of 'Mrs Long' for my mother. That was the social custom of the time. The bus fare would have been just a penny or two, even less for chuldren. Sometimes we would catch the bus at a different stop, just one block away, because that was the start and end of the section. Often, regular drivers would let you travel the extra stop, without charging you the extra penny. You quickly became to know the 'good' drivers, and the 'grumpy' ones. Times were very different in the early 1960s. By age 8, I was permitted to travel by myself, or with a chum. In 2012, parents would not imagine letting youngsters travel by themselves at that age. By age 11, I was travelling from Reservoir to Ivanhoe daily. That meant a bus trip, an 88 tram journey from East Preston to Thornbury, then a connecting 'Green bus' (now Moreland Bus Lines) service to Ivanhoe. As I grew older, I would experiment with different ways to return home from Ivanhoe. Sometimes, that meant a train trip to Fairfield, aboard the then-red-and-white Northcote-Northland bus (later Dysons). An attraction of that trip was that teenage TV singer Debbie Byrne was often on that bus, making her way home to Thornbury. Another alternative trip was the Ivanhoe Bus Company route from Ivanhoe to Mont Park, where there was a connecting Northland service from West Heidelberg. At nights, back at Reservoir, I would ride my bike, usually ending up at the RBC depot, watching the buses coming in at the end of their shifts. At that stage, RBC was housed in a number of premises including vacant gravelled suburban blocks. Drivers were able to skilfully park dozens of buses, side-by-side, separated by just inches. Jackie Doidge was the man responsible for logging the return of each vehicle, filling them with diesel or petrol, and parking them, ready for the early morning drivers. He allowed this young teenager to re-fuel the buses from the Esso pumps - and to adjust the destination roll for each bus for the first service next morning. Imagine the Occupational Health and Safety issues that such a practice would evopke today. Everyone at Reservoir Bus Company was very kind to me. This included the Coopers, Pat Quinn, and a very young trainee, Russell Ward. They used to welcome me, and helped me with my growing fascination with buses. Drivers such as Ernie Grimes gave me memorabilia such as London timetables, and he used to tell me about the number double decker services to Shepherd's Bush. As an older teenager, I began to research the Melbourne bus routes of old, dating back to the first 'omnibuses' of the 1920s, and even earlier. I went through every weekly of the Victoria Government Gazette, and traced every route change over decades. That giant body of research found its way to America, where a man was completing his PhD on Melbourne's transport system. He paid me $100 - a fortune for a teen, in 1973. It would have cost me a fortune to make a duplicate, so the only copy of Melbourne's bus routes history went to America. In my mid-teenage years, my interest was diverted to trains. Or one train in particular. The Epping line service, that arrived at Reservoir station at 7.43am, had a very pretty girl who came from Lalor. We travelled by train daily to Clifton Hill, transferring to the Hurstbridge line service, to take us to our respective schools at Ivanhoe. That was the end of the bus hobby. That girl interested me much more than a Bedford.

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FARES PLEASE

● From Page 17 ■ In the 1970s a new livery appeared. The dark green and ivory was replaced with white and rust (brown) details. The name of the company also appeared in this livery. The fleet was all Bedford at this stage. It was all petrol, by far the largest all-petrol fleet in Melbourne, with 31 buses. This week’s takeover of RBC by the Dyson Group is ironic as the two companies had an intense rivalry in the 1950s and 60s. The Dyson Group was established in 1952 by Laurence Collins Dyson, beginning with only four run down buses and a small garage in Collingwood. After serving in WWII the English immigrant Laurie Dyson bought the business from his old boss who had recently passed away - four "clapped out buses, bits of bombs". Dyson ran a service out of Regent Station to Bundoora, extending to Larundel, Janefield and Gresswell Sanitarium on Wednesdays and weekends. Dyson’s now has a bus and coach fleet of more than 420 and more than 700 employees working in the six depots in Bundoora, Moama, Bairnsdale, Kyneton, Wodonga and Leongatha. Dyson’s is this year celebrating its 60th anniversary. To mark the occasion, Dyson's have been working hard to refurbish three old run down buses back to their original forms. The buses have be taken on a roadshow, visiting all the regional depots with an outstanding display of old photographs, historical facts and memorabilia from Dyson's throughout their 60 years of service. Dyson’s acquisitions in recent times have included the Bell Street Bus Company, Northcote Bus Service, Reid’s, Cobb and Co, APT and V/Line services.

● Leaving Reservoir Bus Company after 44½ years, Russell Ward will continue his management involvements with East-West Bus Lines and Melbourne Bus Link.

Bus services grow ■ Reservoir Bus Company grew widely over the years. Its routes included: ● 552 Northcote Plaza SC – North East Reservoir ● 553 Preston – West Preston via Reservoir Railway Station (RS), Regent RS ● 554 Thomastown – Thomastown via Lalor RS ● 555 Northland SC – Epping Plaza via Reservoir RS, Ruthven RS, Keon Park RS, Thomastown RS, Lalor RS ● 556 Northland SC – Epping Plaza via Reservoir RS, Epping RS ● 557 Thomastown – Thomastown via Lalor RS ● 558 Reservoir – Reservoir ● 559 Thomastown – Thomastown via Lalor RS ● 575 Thomastown – Epping North via Epping Plaza SC, Epping RS ● 577 Epping Plaza – South Morang RS via Epping RS With Dysons, it launched the East West Bus Company joint venture, operating routes: ● 561 Coburg – Macleod via Reservoir RS, La Trobe University, Macleod RS ● 570 Thomastown – RMIT Bundoora via Lalor Plaza SC

● Laurie Dyson

Two routes are now operated under the East West Bus Company name after the 560 Broadmeadows-Greensborough and the 571 Epping-South Morang services were replaced by the 902 SmartBus and the extension of the Epping train line to South Morang. The arterial service is operated jointly with Grenda, which is now run by the Ventura line.

● The early ‘Webb and Williamson’ fleet assembled for a photograph


Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 7, 2012 - Page 19

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Victoria Pictorial

Spring Racing Carnival Historic Photo Collection

● Melbourne Cup. 1889.

● Members’ car park. 1975.

● John Elliott at the 1985 Melbourne Cup

● Melbourne Cup. 1881.

● Phar Lap finishes in the Melbourne Cup, 1930.

● Prince Charles and Diana at Flemington. 1985.

● Rounding the turn by the river. 1883.

● Melbourne Cup. 1890.


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Healthy Living


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Melbourne

Observer Victorian Sport Racing Briefs

Another win at Ballarat ■ Terry Young was again a winner at Bray Raceway Ballarat on Tuesday, when honest 4-Y-0 Art Major/Nukelyn gelding Majorflex snared the Gary Moy Water Cartage Vicbred Pace for C0 class over 2200 metres, much to the delight of owner Terry Cahill. Driven by Daryl Douglas, Majorflex from gate three on the second line settled three back along the markers, with the pole marker Al Oh Al Ae Lola leading from the pole. Gaining inside runs on straightening, Majorflex finished best to gain the day in advance of Sopranos Fury which trailed the front runner, also receiving an inside passage, with Longtan Liberator third after being sent forward to race in the open. The mile rate 2-02.9.

Loves runs at Mildura ■ Ararat based Michael Bellman loves competing at Mildura meetings and snared a driving double there on Wednesday, piloting Charlton trainer Matt Donaldson's 8-Y-0 mare Breakmyheart to victory in the Heartbeat Sunraysia Pace for C1 class over 2190 metres and Nicmac Bromac for St Arnaud's Brian Kiesey in the Zilzie Wines The Regional Collection Pace for C1 class over the same journey.

Worth the journey ■ Talented young reinsman Zac Phillips travelled a long way to snare a driving double at the Mildura meeting held on Wednesday October 31, landing the Zilzie Wins Pace for C2 class over 2190 metres aboard Bolinda trainer Vince Vallelonga's 6-Y-0 D M Dilinger/Exotic Love entire Fergus MacCool, while also steering Bolinda trainer Paul Males' 5-Y0 Bettors Delight/Cosmopolitan gelding Bettor Warrior to victory in the Zilzie Bulloak Wines Pace for C1 class over 1790 metres, both taking a concession. Fergus MacCool was quickly away from an inside second line draw to possie three back in the running line, moving three wide in the last lap to lead on turning in accounting for the heavily supported Our Walden Bury from near last in a rate of 2-00.2, with Tandragee third. Bettor Warrior always looked the winner after leading from the pole and was never in any danger, coasting to the wire well in advance of Saint Petersburg (one/one) and Coalemus. The mile rate 2-00.4.

Hall of Fame dinner ■ One of harness racing's ‘night of nights’ - the 4th annual Hallf of Fame Dinner, presented by HRV, VHRMA & SEW-Eurodrive is to be held at Tabcorp Park Melton on Thursday November 29 commencing at 6.30pm. Limited tickets ($75 all inclusive) for a three course meal and drinks are available from Miriam Gandolfo or Bernie Bensley at HRV (8378 0200), Gordon Lockman (9435 0732) or myself (0401 679 745). Who will be inducted this year ?

This Week’s Meetings ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■

Wednesday - Kilmore, Thursday - Yarra Valley, Friday - Melton, Saturday - Ballarat, Sunday - St Arnaud (Cup), Monday - Cobram, Tuesday - Ararat.

Horses To Follow ■ Cape N Cutter, Cityscape, Kurahaupo Quin, Forest Fury, Final Riot, Nova Arama, Union Fame.

WINNING FAREWELL

■ Bonny five year old mare Highview Ebony may have left Victoria on a high note after winning the @mickpolster Pacers Handicap for C1 or better class over 2240 metres at Tabcorp Park Melton on Friday. Re-handicapped to a daunting 30 metre backmark following a victory at Ballarat four days earlier, Highview Ebony with Chris Alford in the sulky for Dean Braun galloped away adding to her handicap, settling at the tail of the field with the exception of Loving Life Lombo which began badly from barrier two. Sent forward three wide racing for the bell, Highview Ebony had to be driven along to move outside the pacemaker Myrniong Panorama in the back straight on the final occasion whose driver Tony Xiriha had allowed to run along. Taking a slender lead at the straight entrance, Highview Ebony defied all challengers in the run to the wire, scoring a game victory in advance of On The Lure (one/one) after moving to the breeze with a circuit to travel, with the roughie Nova Arama third from mid-field after facing the open in the early stages. The mile rate 200.3. A daughter of Bettors Delight and Highview Mistress raced by Tony and Pam Coniglio, Highview Ebony has recorded 13 wins from 52 race appearances. It appears highly likely that Highview Ebony will next appear in Queensland under the care of Vicki Rasmussen and Shane Graham at the Gold Coast. It was a great night for the Coniglios, as recent Kiwi purchase Major Steppe a colt by Art Major from Savanah Blue Jeans made it three from three by taking the Alabar 3-Y-0 Pace over 2240 metres from Union Fame and Easy Lightning in a rate of 2-03.4. Nathan Jack was the winning reinsman. Trainer Braun along with Alford also enjoyed a profitable evening, as superstar Chancellor Cullen (Christian Cullen/Nivea Franco) continued on his winning spree with an effortless victory in the $15,000 SEW-Eurodrive Pace Final for M0 & M1 class over 2240 metres prior to heading west to compete in a series of rich four year old races culminating in the Golden Nugget.

Baker’s Delight

Harness Racing

In the winner’s stall

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lenbaker@ bigpond.net.au

with Len Baker

Sweet run ■ Heywood trainer Kevin Brough combined with Terang reinsman Matt Craven to land the Ray Mills Life Member Pace for C0 class (mares) over 1700 metres at Horsham on Monday October 29 with Signs And Wonders, a 4-Y-0 daughter of Life Sign and Nadia Lombo. Given a sweet passage one/one from gate two, Signs And Wonders proved too strong at the finish for Dulcies Dilemma which followed her throughout, with the pole line pacemaker Dont Be Silly Mia third. The mile rate 1-58.5.

Double ■ Craven was to complete a driving double when successful aboard Terang trainer Darren Cole's 6-Y-0 Jennas Beach Boy/Gypsy Rose Lombo gelding Bohemian Lombo in the Wimmera Mail-Times Vicbred Pace for C1 class over 2200 metres. Despite racing in the open from gate five, Bohemian Lombo defied all challengers to score from Life Of Ted which trailed the weakening leader Walking Ona Dream and Final Riot off a three wide trail last lap in a rate of 202.9.

Half head ■ Woorndoo trainer Bob Mahncke shared the honours for the day with Matt Craven by providing a long shot stable double, Taniwha ($81.70) in the Rosehill Veterinary Services Pace for C1 class over 1700 metres and Extricate ($53.10) in the Mister Big @Alabar Pace for C2 & C3 class over 2200 metres. Four year old mare Taniwha (McArdle/Jaguar Strike) driven by Ellen Tormey enjoyed a soft trip one/one from gate

three, finishing best to defeat Mosquito Flyer (one/ two) and Guvs Boy which led in a rate of 1-59.9, while 7-Y-0 Die Laughing/Forest Flame gelding Extricate (Greg Sugars) ran home strongly from well back to score from the pacemaker Macy Lila, Bronze Destiny and Shez The Barmaid in a blanket finish, returning a mile rate of 2-00.9. The margins being a half head, a half head, a head.

In control ■ Peter Manning's 5-Y0 Bettors Delight/Rimini gelding The Adriatic led throughout from the pole with Greg Sugars in the sulky to capture the BG'S Folly @ Mountain View Pace for C4 & C5 class over 2200 metres at Horsham in a rate of 201, much to the delight of prolific owners Merv and Meg Butterworth. Always in control, The Adriatic scored by 1.2 metres from Stephs Caesar off a three wide trail last lap and Hellovaparty (one/two).

Consistent ■ Ararat trainer Terry Young combined with Ellen Tormey to snare the Conch Deville Trotters Handicap for T0 or better class over 2200 metres with consistent 5-Y-0 Earl/ Dainty Dolly gelding Earl Of Charity. Lobbing on the back of the leader Candy Digger from the 20 metre mark, Earl Of Charity when taken into the clear on turning ran home well to score from a death-seating Ollie Nova and Candy Digger in a rate of 2-06.8. Both Ellen Tormey and Greg Sugars also registered driving doubles during the day. - Len Baker

■ Gillieston trainer Russ Thomson was in the winners stall at Bray Raceway Ballarat on Tuesday October 30, when 5-Y-0 Yankee Paco/Makati Avenue gelding Yankee Avenue greeted the judge in the Matthews Joinery Trotters Mobile for T0 class over 2200 metres. Driven by Daryl Douglas, Yankee Avenue from the extreme draw was sent forward to park outside the pacemaker Rakos (gate four), before outstaying his rivals to record his second victory in 15 outings, defeating Yeringberg (three back the markers) and Rakos in a rate of 2-03.4.

Straight from the heart ■ Veteran Charltonian Matt Donaldson has made many visits to Mildura over the years and was successful there on Wednesday, when his 8-Y-0 Jet Laag/Breakers Dream mare Breakmyheart scored in the aptly named Heartbeat Sunraysia Pace for C1 class over 2190 metres. Driven by Ararat based Michael Bellman, Breakmyheart (gate three) did all of the work in the race parked outside the heavily supported leader Our Cicero (gate five), before outstaying her rivals to gain the day in a mile rate of 2-03.8 over Our Cicero and Panorama Madi which followed the pacemaker from the pole. It was Breakmyheart's third victory in 54 race appearances.

100th outing ■ St Arnaud trainer Brian Kiesey combined with Mick Bellman to land the Zilzie Wines The Regional Collection Pace for C1 class over 2190 metres with 7-Y-0 Man Ona Flight/Inka Bromac gelding Nicmac Bromac who was having his 100th outing at the races. Settling three back in the running line from gate five, Nicmac Bromac when eased wide to give chase on turning, rattled home at 100 miles an hour to record a runaway victory in advance of Cullens Queen and Xavier Jack in 2-01.1.

Took concession ■ Melton trainer Brent Lilley who is almost ready to re-locate to Bolinda, was successful with 6-Y-0 Armbro Invasion/Second Guess gelding Abbotshall at Bray Raceway Ballarat on Tuesday October 30, taking out the National Tiles Trotters Handicap for T1 or better class over 2200 metres. Taking a concession for stable reinsman Bob Butt, Abbotshall possied mid-field in the moving line from a 10 metre handicap, with the bold front runner Lovable Nick heading the field from outside the front row. Finishing best, Abbotshall scored by 3.8 metres from the pacemaker in a rate of 2-04.3, with Orlandos Dream (one/one) third.

Damian takes honours ■ Rockbank trainer Damian Wilson who was seriously injured in a spectacular fall at Kilmore on Sunday, was victorious with honest 5-Y-0 John Street North/Trouble Chaton mare Latoya Lass in the Greg Maney Plumbing Pace for C1 class over 2200 metres after taking a concession. With Jodi Quinlan in the sulky, Latoya Lass from inside the second line settled three back along the markers, with Maree Caldow's My Sirena leading from the pole. Gaining an inside passage halfway up the running, Latoya Lass outsprinted her rivals to gain the day in advance of Rock On Tiger off the back of the weakening leader who finished third. The mile rate 2-00 even.


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Fact File

ShowBiz Social Club At Bentleigh Club Monday night (Oct. 22) Photos: Gigi Hellmuth

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, November 7, 2012 - Page 35

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Les Misérables by Victor Hugo CHAPTER iii THE ANKLE-CHAIN MUST HAVE UNDERGONE A CERTAIN PREPARATORY MANIPULATION TO BE THUS BROKEN WITH A BLOW FROM A HAMMER A ship of the line is composed, at the same time, of the heaviest and the lightest of possible matter, for it deals at one and the same time with three forms of substance,— solid, liquid, and fluid,— and it must do battle with all three. It has eleven claws of iron with which to seize the granite on the bottom of the sea, and more wings and more antennae than winged insects, to catch the wind in the clouds. Its breath pours out through its hundred and twenty cannons as through enormous trumpets, and replies proudly to the thunder. The ocean seeks to lead it astray in the alarming sameness of its billows, but the vessel has its soul, its compass, which counsels it and always shows it the north. In the blackest nights, its lanterns supply the place of the stars. Thus, against the wind, it has its cordage and its canvas; against the water, wood; against the rocks, its iron, brass, and lead; against the shadows, its light; against immensity, a needle. If one wishes to form an idea of all those gigantic proportions which, taken as a whole, constitute the ship of the line, one has only to enter one of the six-story covered construction stocks, in the ports of Brest or Toulon. The vessels in process of construction are under a bell-glass there, as it were. This colossal beam is a yard; that great column of wood which stretches out on the earth as far as the eye can reach is the mainmast. Taking it from its root in the stocks to its tip in the clouds, it is sixty fathoms long, and its diameter at its base is three feet. The English main-mast rises to a height of two hundred and seventeen feet above the water-line. The navy of our fathers employed cables, ours employs chains. The simple pile of chains on a ship of a hundred guns is four feet high, twenty feet in breadth, and eight feet in depth. And how much wood is required to make this ship? Three thousand cubic metres. It is a floating forest. And moreover, let this be borne in mind, it is only a question here of the military vessel of forty years ago, of the simple sailing-vessel; steam, then in its infancy, has since added new miracles to that prodigy which is called a war vessel. At the present time, for example, the mixed vessel with a screw is a surprising machine, propelled by three thousand square metres of canvas and by an engine of two thousand five hundred horse-power. Not to mention these new marvels, the ancient vessel of Christopher Columbus and of De Ruyter is one of the masterpieces of man. It is as inexhaustible in force as is the Infinite in gales; it stores up the wind in its sails, it is precise in the immense vagueness of the billows, it floats, and it reigns. There comes an hour, nevertheless, when the gale breaks that sixty-foot yard like a straw, when the wind bends that mast four hundred feet tall, when that anchor, which weighs tens of thousands, is twisted in the jaws of the waves like a fisherman’s hook in the jaws of a pike, when those monstrous cannons utter plaintive and futile roars, which the hurricane bears forth into the void and into night, when all that power and all that majesty are engulfed in a power and majesty which are superior. Every time that immense force is displayed to culminate in an immense feebleness it affords men food for thought, Hence in the ports curious people abound around these marvellous machines of war and of navigation, without being able to explain perfectly to themselves why. Every day, accordingly, from morning until night, the quays, sluices, and the jetties of the port of Toulon were covered with a multitude of idlers and loungers, as they say in Paris, whose business consisted in staring at the Orion. The Orion was a ship that had been ailing for a long time; in the course of its previous cruises thick layers of barnacles had collected on its keel to such a degree as to deprive it of half its speed; it had gone into the dry dock the year before this, in order to have the barnacles scraped off, then it had put to sea again; but this

● Victor Hugo cleaning had affected the bolts of the keel: in the neighborhood of the Balearic Isles the sides had been strained and had opened; and, as the plating in those days was not of sheet iron, the vessel had sprung a leak. A violent equinoctial gale had come up, which had first staved in a grating and a porthole on the larboard side, and damaged the foretop-gallant-shrouds; in consequence of these injuries, the Orion had run back to Toulon. It anchored near the Arsenal; it was fully equipped, and repairs were begun. The hull had received no damage on the starboard, but some of the planks had been unnailed here and there, according to custom, to permit of air entering the hold. One morning the crowd which was gazing at it witnessed an accident. The crew was busy bending the sails; the topman, who had to take the upper corner of the main-top-sail on the starboard, lost his balance; he was seen to waver; the multitude thronging the Arsenal quay uttered a cry; the man’s head overbalanced his body; the man fell around the yard, with his hands outstretched towards the abyss; on his way he seized the footrope, first with one hand, then with the other, and remained hanging from it: the sea lay below him at a dizzy depth; the shock of his fall had imparted to the foot-rope a violent swinging motion; the man swayed back and forth at the end of that rope, like a stone in a sling. It was incurring a frightful risk to go to his assistance; not one of the sailors, all fishermen of the coast, recently levied for the service, dared to attempt it. In the meantime, the unfortunate topman was losing his strength; his anguish could not be discerned on his face, but his exhaustion was visible in every limb; his arms were contracted in horrible twitchings; every effort which he made to re-ascend served but to augment the oscillations of the foot-rope; he did not shout, for fear of exhausting his strength. All were awaiting the minute when he should release his hold on the rope, and, from instant to instant, heads

were turned aside that his fall might not be seen. There are moments when a bit of rope, a pole, the branch of a tree, is life itself, and it is a terrible thing to see a living being detach himself from it and fall like a ripe fruit. All at once a man was seen climbing into the rigging with the agility of a tiger-cat; this man was dressed in red; he was a convict; he wore a green cap; he was a life convict. On arriving on a level with the top, a gust of wind carried away his cap, and allowed a perfectly white head to be seen: he was not a young man. A convict employed on board with a detachment from the galleys had, in fact, at the very first instant, hastened to the officer of the watch, and, in the midst of the consternation and the hesitation of the crew, while all the sailors were trembling and drawing back, he had asked the officer’s permission to risk his life to save the topman; at an affirmative sign from the officer he had broken the chain riveted to his ankle with one blow of a hammer, then he had caught up a rope, and had dashed into the rigging: no one noticed, at the instant, with what ease that chain had been broken; it was only later on that the incident was recalled. In a twinkling he was on the yard; he paused for a few seconds and appeared to be measuring it with his eye; these seconds, during which the breeze swayed the topman at the extremity of a thread, seemed centuries to those who were looking on. At last, the convict raised his eyes to heaven and advanced a step: the crowd drew a long breath. He was seen to run out along the yard: on arriving at the point, he fastened the rope which he had brought to it, and allowed the other end to hang down, then he began to descend the rope, hand over hand, and then,— and the anguish was indescribable,— instead of one man suspended over the gulf, there were two. One would have said it was a spider coming to seize a fly, only here the spider brought life, not death. Ten thousand glances were fastened on this group; not a cry, not a word; the same tremor contracted every brow; all mouths held their

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breath as though they feared to add the slightest puff to the wind which was swaying the two unfortunate men. In the meantime, the convict had succeeded in lowering himself to a position near the sailor. It was high time; one minute more, and the exhausted and despairing man would have allowed himself to fall into the abyss. The convict had moored him securely with the cord to which he clung with one hand, while he was working with the other. At last, he was seen to climb back on the yard, and to drag the sailor up after him; he held him there a moment to allow him to recover his strength, then he grasped him in his arms and carried him, walking on the yard himself to the cap, and from there to the main-top, where he left him in the hands of his comrades At that moment the crowd broke into applause: old convict-sergeants among them wept, and women embraced each other on the quay, and all voices were heard to cry with a sort of tender rage, “Pardon for that man!” He, in the meantime, had immediately begun to make his descent to rejoin his detachment. In order to reach them the more speedily, he dropped into the rigging, and ran along one of the lower yards; all eyes were following him. At a certain moment fear assailed them; whether it was that he was fatigued, or that his head turned, they thought they saw him hesitate and stagger. All at once the crowd uttered a loud shout: the convict had fallen into the sea. The fall was perilous. The frigate Algesiras was anchored alongside the Orion, and the poor convict had fallen between the two vessels: it was to be feared that he would slip under one or the other of them. Four men flung themselves hastily into a boat; the crowd cheered them on; anxiety again took possession of all souls; the man had not risen to the surface; he had disappeared in the sea without leaving a ripple, as though he had fallen into a cask of oil: they sounded, they dived. In vain. The search was continued until the evening: they did not even find the body. On the following day the Toulon newspaper printed these lines:— “Nov. 17, 1823. Yesterday, a convict belonging to the detachment on board of the Orion, on his return from rendering assistance to a sailor, fell into the sea and was drowned. The body has not yet been found; it is supposed that it is entangled among the piles of the Arsenal point: this man was committed under the number 9,430, and his name was Jean Valjean.” Moreover, if one plays at cards, one is sure to lose all that one possesses! and as for the powder in the horn, it possesses the property of making your gun burst in your face. Now, a very short time after the epoch when it seemed to the prosecuting attorney that the liberated convict Jean Valjean during his flight of several days had been prowling around Montfermeil, it was remarked in that village that a certain old road-laborer, named Boulatruelle, had “peculiar ways” in the forest. People thereabouts thought they knew that this Boulatruelle had been in the galleys. He was subjected to certain police supervision, and, as he could find work nowhere, the administration employed him at reduced rates as a road-mender on the crossroad from Gagny to Lagny. This Boulatruelle was a man who was viewed with disfavor by the inhabitants of the district as too respectful, too humble, too prompt in removing his cap to every one, and trembling and smiling in the presence of the gendarmes,— probably affiliated to robber bands, they said; suspected of lying in ambush at verge of copses at nightfall. The only thing in his favor was that he was a drunkard. This is what people thought they had noticed:— Of late, Boulatruelle had taken to quitting his task of stone-breaking and care of the road at a very early hour, and to betaking himself to the forest with his pickaxe. He was encountered towards evening in the most deserted clearings, in the wildest thickets; and he had the appearance of being in search of something, and sometimes he was digging holes. The goodwives who passed took him at first for Beelzebub; then they recognized Boulatruelle, and were not in the least reassured thereby. These encounters seemed to

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From Page 31 cause Boulatruelle a lively displeasure. It was evident that he sought to hide, and that there was some mystery in what he was doing. It was said in the village: “It is clear that the devil has appeared. Boulatruelle has seen him, and is on the search. In sooth, he is cunning enough to pocket Lucifer’s hoard.” The Voltairians added, “Will Boulatruelle catch the devil, or will the devil catch Boulatruelle?” The old women made a great many signs of the cross. In the meantime, Boulatruelle’s manoeuvres in the forest ceased; and he resumed his regular occupation of roadmending; and people gossiped of something else. Some persons, however, were still curious, surmising that in all this there was probably no fabulous treasure of the legends, but some fine windfall of a more serious and palpable sort than the devil’s bank-bills, and that the road-mender had half discovered the secret. The most “puzzled” were the school-master and Thenardier, the proprietor of the tavern, who was everybody’s friend, and had not disdained to ally himself with Boulatruelle.. “He has been in the galleys,” said Thenardier. “Eh! Good God! no one knows who has been there or will be there.” One evening the schoolmaster affirmed that in former times the law would have instituted an inquiry as to what Boulatruelle did in the forest, and that the latter would have been forced to speak, and that he would have been put to the torture in case of need, and that Boulatruelle would not have resisted the water test, for example. “Let us put him to the wine test,” said Thenardier. They made an effort, and got the old roadmender to drinking. Boulatruelle drank an enormous amount, but said very little. He combined with admirable art, and in masterly proportions, the thirst of a gormandizer with the discretion of a judge. Nevertheless, by dint of returning to the charge and of comparing and putting together the few obscure words which he did allow to escape him, this is what Thenardier and the schoolmaster imagined that they had made out:— One morning, when Boulatruelle was on his way to his work, at daybreak, he had been surprised

to see, at a nook of the forest in the underbrush, a shovel and a pickaxe, concealed, as one might say. However, he might have supposed that they were probably the shovel and pick of Father Six– Fours, the water-carrier, and would have thought no more about it. But, on the evening of that day, he saw, without being seen himself, as he was hidden by a large tree, “a person who did not belong in those parts, and whom he, Boulatruelle, knew well,” directing his steps towards the densest part of the wood. Translation by Thenardier: A comrade of the galleys. Boulatruelle obstinately refused to reveal his name. This person carried a package — something square, like a large box or a small trunk. Surprise on the part of Boulatruelle. However, it was only after the expiration of seven or eight minutes that the idea of following that “person” had occurred to him. But it was too late; the person was already in the thicket, night had descended, and Boulatruelle had not been able to catch up with him. Then he had adopted the course of watching for him at the edge of the woods. “It was moonlight.” Two or three hours later, Boulatruelle had seen this person emerge from the brushwood, carrying no longer the coffer, but a shovel and pick. Boulatruelle had allowed the person to pass, and had not dreamed of accosting him, because he said to himself that the other man was three times as strong as he was, and armed with a pickaxe, and that he would probably knock him over the head on recognizing him, and on perceiving that he was recognized. Touching effusion of two old comrades on meeting again. But the shovel and pick had served as a ray of light to Boulatruelle; he had hastened to the thicket in the morning, and had found neither shovel nor pick. From this he had drawn the inference that this person, once in the forest, had dug a hole with his pick, buried the coffer, and reclosed the hole with his shovel. Now, the coffer was too small to contain a body; therefore it contained money. Hence his researches. Boulatruelle had explored, sounded, searched the entire forest and the thicket, and had dug wherever the earth appeared to him to have been recently turned up. In vain. He had “ferreted out” nothing. No one in Montfermeil thought any more about it. There were only a few brave gossips, who said, “You

may be certain that the mender on the Gagny road did not take all that trouble for nothing; he was sure that the devil had come.”

BOOK THIRD.— ACCOMPLISHMENT OF THE PROMISE MADE TO THE DEAD WOMAN CHAPTER I THE WATER QUESTION AT MONTFERMEIL Montfermeil is situated between Livry and Chelles, on the southern edge of that lofty tableland which separates the Ourcq from the Marne. At the present day it is a tolerably large town, ornamented all the year through with plaster villas, and on Sundays with beaming bourgeois. In 1823 there were at Montfermeil neither so many white houses nor so many well-satisfied citizens: it was only a village in the forest. Some pleasure-houses of the last century were to be met with there, to be sure, which were recognizable by their grand air, their balconies in twisted iron, and their long windows, whose tiny panes cast all sorts of varying shades of green on the white of the closed shutters; but Montfermeil was none the less a village. Retired cloth-merchants and rusticating attorneys had not discovered it as yet; it was a peaceful and charming place, which was not on the road to anywhere: there people lived, and cheaply, that peasant rustic life which is so bounteous and so easy; only, water was rare there, on account of the elevation of the plateau. It was necessary to fetch it from a considerable distance; the end of the village towards Gagny drew its water from the magnificent ponds which exist in the woods there. The other end, which surrounds the church and which lies in the direction of Chelles, found drinking-water only at a little spring half-way down the slope, near the road to Chelles, about a quarter of an hour from Montfermeil. Thus each household found it hard work to keep supplied with water. The large houses, the aristocracy, of which the Thenardier tavern formed a part, paid half a farthing a bucketful to a man who made a business of it, and who earned about eight sous a day in his enterprise of supplying Montfermeil with water; but this good man only

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worked until seven o’clock in the evening in summer, and five in winter; and night once come and the shutters on the ground floor once closed, he who had no water to drink went to fetch it for himself or did without it. This constituted the terror of the poor creature whom the reader has probably not forgotten,— little Cosette. It will be remembered that Cosette was useful to the Thenardiers in two ways: they made the mother pay them, and they made the child serve them. So when the mother ceased to pay altogether, the reason for which we have read in preceding chapters, the Thenardiers kept Cosette. She took the place of a servant in their house. In this capacity she it was who ran to fetch water when it was required. So the child, who was greatly terrified at the idea of going to the spring at night, took great care that water should never be lacking in the house. Christmas of the year 1823 was particularly brilliant at Montfermeil. The beginning of the winter had been mild; there had been neither snow nor frost up to that time. Some mountebanks from Paris had obtained permission of the mayor to erect their booths in the principal street of the village, and a band of itinerant merchants, under protection of the same tolerance, had constructed their stalls on the Church Square, and even extended them into Boulanger Alley, where, as the reader will perhaps remember, the Thenardiers’ hostelry was situated. These people filled the inns and drinking-shops, and communicated to that tranquil little district a noisy and joyous life. In order to play the part of a faithful historian, we ought even to add that, among the curiosities displayed in the square, there was a menagerie, in which frightful clowns, clad in rags and coming no one knew whence, exhibited to the peasants of Montfermeil in 1823 one of those horrible Brazilian vultures, such as our Royal Museum did not possess until 1845, and which have a tricolored cockade for an eye. I believe that naturalists call this bird Caracara Polyborus; it belongs to the order of the Apicides, and to the family of the vultures. Some good old Bonapartist soldiers, who had retired to the village, went to see this creature with great devotion. The mountebanks gave out that the tricolored cockade was a unique phenomenon made by God expressly for their menagerie. ● To Be Continued Next Week

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