Melbourne Observer. 121031B. October 31, 2012. Part B. October 31, 2012

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■ Rosemary Clooney was a famous American singer and actress who had hit songs in the 1950s and appeared in films and television shows.

Rosemary was loved by millions, but her life was not as ‘rosy’ as many of her fans would have thought.

Rosemary Clooney was born in Maysville, Kentucky, on May 23, 1928. She was the eldest of three children and had a sister Betty and brother Nick.

Her childhood was very difficult as her father had a drinking problem and when Rosemary was 15 her mother re-married and moved to California taking Nick with her.

Rosemary and Betty stayed with their father until he deserted them.

They became a singing duo to support themselves and in 1945 they had a regular spot on a radio station in Cleveland, Ohio, as The Clooney Sisters.

Rosemary and Betty sang with The Tony Pastor Band and made recordings. They split up in 1948 and Rosemary went to New York to try her luck as a solo singer.

Her brother Nick became a television newscaster and he is the father of the famous actor George Clooney.

Rosemary was signed by Columbia Records and began working with producer Mitch Miller.

She was forced to record lousy material which included obscure children's songs and novelty compositions.

Whatever Happened To ...

Rosemary Clooney

By Kevin Trask of 3AW and 96.5 Inner FM Despite Rosemary's anxiety she had a series of hit songs which included Botch-A- Me, Sailor Boys Have Talk To Me In English, Where Will The Dimple Be and Come On-a My House. \ Rosemary begged Miller to let her record decent material, but when he did so he put the song on the ‘B’ side of the records.

Her recordings with screen legend Marlene Dietrich in 1952 were very popular.

Her first film appearance was in 1953 as a performer in The Stars Are Singing. This was followed by lead roles in Here Come The Girls, Red Garters and then White Christmas where she co-starred with Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye and Vera Ellen.

Rosemary married José Ferrer and they had

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‘She was forced to record lousy material which included obscure children's songs and novelty compositions’ shown in Australia.

She left Columbia Records in 1958 and worked with several record labels which included MGM, RCA, Reprise, DOT and Coral Records.

Whilst at RCA she recorded the famous Fancy Meeting You Here album of duets with Bing Crosby. Rosemary was divorced from José Ferrer in 1962, they remarried the following year but divorced again in 1967.

Rosemary was standing very close to her friend Robert Kennedy when he was assassinated at the Los Angeles Ambassador Hotel and she suffered a nervous breakdown as a result of the trauma.

She made a comeback when Bing Crosby invited her to join him on his 50th anniversary tour.

She began recording at Concord Records in 1977 and produced some of her best recordings over the next 25 years.

In 1991 Rosemary gave her first Carnegie Hall concert and returned again in 1997 where she was presented with a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Society of Singers.

José Ferrer passed away in 1992. Rosemary married her long time friend Dante DiPaolo in 1996.

Rosemary Clooney was one of the great interpreters of the American Songbook and infive children. In 1956 Rosemary Clooney had her own variety television series which was ected a part of herself into the songs she sang. Rosemary did guest roles in television series and was nominated for an Emmy Award for her role in an episode of ER. She loved Bing Crosby as a dear friend and commented - "Bing had a brilliant mind and an original wit. That casual delivery combined with an unexpectedly wide vocabulary. It was a great device for comedy -- and also an effective way of communicating with an audience or with a person."

Rosemary Clooney never won a Grammy Award but received the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in February 2002 and sadly died of lung cancer four months later.

I was a huge fan of her singing and I would have loved to have seen her perform onstage.

Kevin Trask The Time Tunnel - with Bruce & Phil Sundays at 8.20pm on 3AW That's Entertainment - 96.5FM Sundays at 12 Noon 96.5FM is streaming on the internet.

To listen, go to www.innerfm.org.au and follow the prompts.

CHASING THE PINK OUTBACK DOLLAR

■ I've never liked feral animals for the damage they inflict on Australia's fragile fauna.

Especially cats, as I noted last week, and foxes. Because our smaller birds and animals were never subjected to many large predators - dingoes and Thylacines were in limited numbers, and part of the balance - they were grist for these predators' mill.

I've often carried a .22 on my journeys, and have no compunction in disposing of any such random creature.

But I am horrified at wanton and pointless and gratuitous slaughter.

Years ago my parents were camping at Yowah, in Queensland, chasing butterflies and scratching around for opals, when a couple of young Victorian fellows came along and camped nearby.

In the local cocky's dam a blue crane had made its home - it was almost a family pet. So what did these guys do - shot it. Totally stupid. They were summarily marched off.

Earlier this year Shawn McCullock and his camel, Noodles, were on a trek from Katherine o Charleville, with Shawn walking and Noodles pulling a supply trailer.

They stayed in Alice for a couple of months, and became a familiar happy sight around town.

Last week in Birdsville, 800 kms shy of their destination, Noodles was resting in a paddock, standing beside the fence waiting for Shawn to return, when a passing motorist shot him.

Again, totally stupid.

■ The new Northern Territory government has begun a few reforms.

Grog is the first one.

Previously there had been a Banned Drinkers Registry, supposedly prohibiting problem drinkers from guzzling booze.

One such gentleman was admitted to a sobering-up shelter 117 times last year. And others 97, 86 and 74 times, on and on.

That sure worked well! So that's about to go.

And Dave Tollner, the NT Health Minister, wants problem drinkers to "hide out in the scrub, go somewhere where they're not in the public eye.

We've got to clear the drunks off the streets".

So now if drinkers are picked up three times in six months, they will be given a Court Order to attend rehabilitation.

The Outback Legend

with Nick Le Souef Lightning Ridge Opals 175 Flinders Lane, Melbourne Phone 9654 4444 www.opals.net.au If they fail to attend, they'll be marched off to a prison farm for alcohol abuse.

If they don't want to be caught in the streets, then off to the scrub to guzzle!

Unfortunately many people come into town from outlying dry communities, just to drink. And stay.

Then hopefully their rehabilitation may encourage them to wander back home to their families.

In 20 years in the Territory I've seen it all before! Nothing ever changes and nothing ever works!

■ I once introduced my Melbourne mate Macca to a few of my NT friends.

He said to me later: "I thought I'd been around, but compared to your mates I'm just a babe in the woods!"

Two of these were my dear friends Irena Krzton and John Henshall, both devoted Territorians, but intrepid gypsies.

John, an inveterate adventurer, returned to Alice a couple of years ago after flying tourists across Victoria Falls in his ultra-light; Irena had been

with him, but had previously roamed around Africa and the Antarctic.

I had been following their latest adventure - the scaling of Kilimanjaro!

I've just received an email from Irena to tell me of their return, happily safe and sound. They travelled around Kenya and Tanzania, with a week in Oman thrown in at the end.

Even and though I don't mind flying in anything, an ultra-light included, so long as it takes off from the ground, I'm not over keen on heights per se; snakes and spiders are OK with me, but the proximity of a precipice - no thanks!

But Irena described her ascent to me: "… standing on top of this high and handsome mountain, proudly rising out of the flat earth on the plains of Africa, just south of equator, was absolutely mesmerizing for all!"

Breathtaking!

■ They're on again! The Masters Games. As ever, this is a bittersweet event for Alice Springs.

People flock into town every two years - this year 3000- from all over Australia, to participate in the 33 events.

Although the event brings about $10m into the local community, there are always moans and groans, because they occupy all available hotel rooms, forcing international big spending tourists out.

And they don't buy any touristy items, so many vendors have a couple of weeks' holiday as trade evaporates.

They do, however, buy lots of booze and food, and condoms!

One year the town pharmacies ran out of the latter so the next games year they all stocked up in readiness. However, unfortunately the participants had remembered the problem last time and all brought their own!

■ The Pink Dollar is now in Tourism NT's sights!

Along with the niche markets of backpackers and anglers, gay travellers are now being sought.

Of course this contribution of effort has revealed a critic or two!

"We want families!" some say.

Tourism NT's chief John Fitzgerald, an old mate, says that he targets groups of ‘spirited travellers’, and gays can be as spirited as the next man!

And Sylvia Wolf, of Tourism Top End, notes that "gay travellers often

● An ad for for Throb Night Club, Darwin

have lots of money - they have no kids so they're often affluent, and spend up big.

"They don't want the smallest room or the smallest car."

And then, of course, Alice is known as the lesbian capital of Australia from my observation, rightly so-shy retiring little violets, they're not!

And there is a gay nightclub in Darwin - ‘Throb’. Throb?? Oh dear!

Reminds me of an old mate who worked for me years ago, who hadn't yet ‘come out’. Apart from lunch, he would also grab a quick morning and afternoon tea break. Or so I thought!

He later told me that he was indulging in other clandestine activities, notably with no money changing hands. Imagine, I thought, if this happened in the heterosexual world - every bloke I knew would be popping out for a ‘cuppa’ the whole day long!

No one would ever do any work the city would just grind to a halt!

- Nick Le Souef ‘The Outback Legend’

From The Outer

Melbourne

Observer

kojak@ mmnet.com.au

With John Pasquarelli

■ Big deal - we have won a non-permanent seat on the UN Security Council along with Argentina and that shambles of a place Rwanda.

Buckets of Australian taxpayers' cash has been handed out to bongo bongo UN members by Rudd, Gillard and Carr to buy their votes for a position where Australia's vote means zip.

What a disgrace the UN is with its looking on when the Rwandan genocide filled our TV screens as well as the African health aid scandals and now the Syrian disaster with lots of UN tut-tutting but no action.

While we are told thousands of Australians are living below the poverty line and many Aboriginal Australians are living hopeless lives, Rudd, Carr and others are busy increasing our foreign aid.

Billions have been squandered over the years and closer to home, DFAT officials on huge salaries throw away our money in PNG where corruption exists on both sides of the fence.

Years ago I found that UN employees at mid and lower levels received huge tax free US$ salaries plus perks such as duty free cars.

It's time that the Coalition researched this aspect and tells us what the score is. An Abbott Government should not let itself be snowed by the UN. - John Pasquarelli, kojak@mmnet.com.au

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012 - Page 23

Buying Guide

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Healthy Living

STEM CELLS

Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012 - Page 25

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Confidential Melbourne

Talk is cheap, gossip is priceless

RUMBLINGS AT GEELONG ‘PULSE’ RADIO STATION

Bitch Melbourne’s Secrets

From the ‘Do you know who I am?’ department

station with its programming. The licence holder, Diversitat, appears likely to set up a committee ioncluding volunteers to review the programming line-up.

Diversitat provides community services to the Geelong region in the areas of immigration, welfare, community development, youth, training, aged care and employment.

■ Radio veteran Denis Scanlan could quit his daily Front Page program at Geelong community station, Pulse 94.7.

Scanlan is upset about programming at the local station, which has a variety of music extending from country and western, to a lokalike Triple J playlist.

Scanlan’s show is preceded by the Fred and Cheryl Show on Tues-

Short Sharp

&

● Peter Mobbs

● Denis Scanlan days. Their western music line-up has seen them nicknamed ‘Feral’.

On Fridays, Breakfast With Adam features contemporary music. Listeners have difficulty in staying tuned to the station for the entire day.

Geelong radio identity Peter Mobbs has contacted Pulse FM with the view of assisting the sta-

MOST SENSATIONAL AND INSPIRATIONAL

■ Newly re-elected Melbourne Lord Mayor Cr Robert Doyle is threatening to sue The Age over its pre-election coverage.

■ Connally’s Real Estate at Heathcote has been fined $6000 by the EPA for dumping industrial waste into a local creek, reports the McIvor Times.

Rumour Mill Hear It Here First

It gave us all ‘a lift’ ■ The Melbourne Observer really didn’t mind that the Herald Sun lifted an Observer photograph for a Page 5 report at the weekend. In fact, we were flattered.

■ Observer Editor Ash Long was also quoted on Page 5 of The Saturday Age. That’s fine too.

● Magda Szubanski at Her Maj PHOTO: MATT WATSON, FORUM FACEBOOK PAGE

■ It wasn’t all happy times for Melbourne actress Magda Szubanksi at the opening night party for A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum at Her Majesty’s Theatre on Saturday night.

Magda, who starred in the comic role of Domina, confronted a door security guard who refused access to Magda’s friends to the party in the theatre foyer.

The guard explained that he had been given strict instructions not to admit anyone who did not present specially printed tickets for the knees-up.

Latest radio ratings ■ 3AW won the seventh radio ratings survey, with results released yesterday (Tues.).

3AW won a 15.9 per cent audience share, in the all-demographics audience, measured 5.30am-Midnight, Monday-Sunday. Then followed: ABC 774, 11.4. Fox, 10.3. Gold, 7.9. Nova, 7.0. MMM, 6.3.

Mix, 6.1. Magic 1278, 5.8. JJJ, 4.9. Smooth, 4.5.

SEN, 4.2. Radio National, 2.6. ABC FM, 2.5.

Newsradio, 1.4.

Ross Stevenson and John Burns (3AW) continued to dominate the breakfast time slot (20.5). Neil Mitchell (18.6) beat Jon Faine (13.3). 3AW afternoon man Denis Walter (12.8) was ahead of Fox (10.4). Derryn Hinch went up (13.6), just behind Fox (14.2). Nightline won with 13.4 per cent.

Real estate shake-up

● Socialites Richard and Lillian Frank were seated in the Royal Box at Her Majesty’s Theatre at the weekend. The vantage spots are often nicknamed ‘ashtrays’ by regular theatregoers. One media critic (not from the Observer!) loudly remarked something about Statler and Waldorf from The Muppets.

Changes at Herald Sun ■ News Limited has announced some upcoming changes for the printing of newspapers from its Port Melbourne site. They will move from six presses to four. The first changes will occur on Saturdays, from November 12.

■ Antony Catalano, the newspaper advertising man who shook up the real estate market in Melbourne, has taken his brand of marketing to Geelong.

He claims to have signed up 80 per cent of local real estate agents for a new weekly newspaper that starts in a fortnight.

The move will affect the Geelong Advertiser, owned by Rupert Mur- ● Antony Catalano doch’s News Limited.

Also in the firing line is the Geelong Independent, which came under the control of Paul Thomas’s Star News Group several years ago.

The Geelong real estate advertising market is said to be worth $10 million annuually.

■ Catalano is expected to employ up to 20 people on his new publication.

E-Mail: Confidential@MelbourneObserver.com.au

Whispers

Arrest

■ Police have arrested a 42-year-old woman at the drivethrough lane of McDonalds Greensborough after she allegedly blew .229.

Police were alerted when she allegedly drove backwards through the drive-through, over a traffic island and over a nature strip.

Caught ■ Southland sales manager Robyn Sweep, 55, has been caught with stolen items worth $87,000.

Many of the 658 items are said to have come from the David Jones store where she worked.

Investigators set up a surveillance camera in her office.

She has been placed on a 12 month community based order, and must perform 100 hours of community work.

City probe ■ State Parliament has been told that Kingston Council could face fines of up to $1 million following workplace bullying allegations.

Accusations have been levelled against three Councillors. Cr Rosemary West says the accusations are “false and defamatory”. Crs Trevor Shewan and Steve Staikos also deny the allegations.

Passing ■ Veteran Channel Seven staff are mourning the passing this month of Allan Bray. His mates described him as fastidious, quirky, intelligent and supportive. A chapel funeral service was held at Fawkner.

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Spring Fashion

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Melbourne Homemaker

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Melbourne Homemaker

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012 - Page 29

Melbourne People

Opening Night A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum Her Majesty’s Theatre. Photos: Ash Long

● Patti and Bert Newton at the opening night

● Alan Fletcher and Jennifer Hansen

● Pauline and Mal Walden at Her Majesty’s

● Producer John Frost with Annette Allison

● Vivien and Geoff Cox

● Peter, Kate and Shirley Whelan

● Caroline Gillmer with Tony Bartucchio

● Donna Demaio with Fiona Sombekke

● Critic Simon Parris with publicist Ian Phipps

● Cate and Kevin Trask

● Virginia Gay with Tom Hobbs

● Bob and Judy Phillips

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Victoria Pictorial

Historic Photo Collection

● St Kilda. About 1908.

● Richmond. About 1897.

● Isaac Fawcxett, tailor, Gertrude St, Fiztroy. About 1866.

● H Clarkson, chemist, Brunswick. 1914

● G Bernsaconi, newsagent, Glenhuntly Rd. About 1938.

● Toorak Road, South Yarra. About 1920.

● Hoddle Street, Collingwood. 1866.

● Clifton Hill Post Office, 1920s.

Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012 - Page 31

Observer Classic Books

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo VOLUME II. COSETTE CHAPTER xv CAMBRONNE Continued

The winner of the battle of Waterloo was not Napoleon, who was put to flight; nor Wellington, giving way at four o’clock, in despair at five; nor Blucher, who took no part in the engagement. The winner of Waterloo was Cambronne.

To thunder forth such a reply at the lightningflash that kills you is to conquer!

Thus to answer the Catastrophe, thus to speak to Fate, to give this pedestal to the future lion, to hurl such a challenge to the midnight rainstorm, to the treacherous wall of Hougomont, to the sunken road of Ohain, to Grouchy’s delay, to Blucher’s arrival, to be Irony itself in the tomb, to act so as to stand upright though fallen, to drown in two syllables the European coalition, to offer kings privies which the Caesars once knew, to make the lowest of words the most lofty by entwining with it the glory of France, insolently to end Waterloo with Mardigras, to finish Leonidas with Rabellais, to set the crown on this victory by a word impossible to speak, to lose the field and preserve history, to have the laugh on your side after such a carnage,— this is immense!

It was an insult such as a thunder-cloud might hurl! It reaches the grandeur of AEschylus!

Cambronne’s reply produces the effect of a violent break. ’Tis like the breaking of a heart under a weight of scorn. ’Tis the overflow of agony bursting forth. Who conquered? Wellington? No! Had it not been for Blucher, he was lost. Was it Blucher? No! If Wellington had not begun, Blucher could not have finished. This Cambronne, this man spending his last hour, this unknown soldier, this infinitesimal of war, realizes that here is a falsehood, a falsehood in a catastrophe, and so doubly agonizing; and at the moment when his rage is bursting forth because of it, he is offered this mockery,— life! How could he restrain himself? Yonder are all the kings of Europe, the general’s flushed with victory, the Jupiter’s darting thunderbolts; they have a hundred thousand victorious soldiers, and back of the hundred thousand a million; their cannon stand with yawning mouths, the match is lighted; they grind down under their heels the Imperial guards, and the grand army; they have just crushed Napoleon, and only Cambronne remains,— only this earthworm is left to protest.

He will protest. Then he seeks for the appropriate word as one seeks for a sword. His mouth froths, and the froth is the word. In face of this mean and mighty victory, in face of this victory which counts none victorious, this desperate soldier stands erect. He grants its overwhelming immensity, but he establishes its triviality; and he does more than spit upon it. Borne down by numbers, by superior force, by brute matter, he finds in his soul an expression: “Excrement!”

We repeat it,— to use that word, to do thus, to invent such an expression, is to be the conqueror!

The spirit of mighty days at that portentous moment made its descent on that unknown man.

Cambronne invents the word for Waterloo as Rouget invents the “Marseillaise,” under the visitation of a breath from on high. An emanation from the divine whirlwind leaps forth and comes sweeping over these men, and they shake, and one of them sings the song supreme, and the other utters the frightful cry.

This challenge of titanic scorn Cambronne hurls not only at Europe in the name of the Empire,— that would be a trifle: he hurls it at the past in the name of the Revolution. It is heard, and Cambronne is recognized as possessed by the ancient spirit of the Titans. Danton seems to be speaking! Kleber seems to be bellowing!

At that word from Cambronne, the English voice responded, “Fire!” The batteries flamed, the hill trembled, from all those brazen mouths belched a last terrible gush of grape-shot; a vast volume of smoke, vaguely white in the light of the rising moon, rolled out, and when the smoke dispersed, there was no longer anything there. That formidable remnant had been annihilated; the Guard was dead. The four walls of the living redoubt lay prone, and hardly was there discernible, here

● Victor Hugo and there, even a quiver in the bodies; it was thus that the French legions, greater than the Roman legions, expired on Mont–Saint-Jean, on the soil watered with rain and blood, amid the gloomy grain, on the spot where nowadays Joseph, who drives the post-wagon from Nivelles, passes whistling, and cheerfully whipping up his horse at four o’clock in the morning.

CHAPTER xvi QUOT LIBRAS IN DUCE? The battle of Waterloo is an enigma. It is as obscure to those who won it as to those who lost it. For Napoleon it was a panic;10 Blucher sees nothing in it but fire; Wellington understands nothing in regard to it. Look at the reports. The bulletins are confused, the commentaries involved. Some stammer, others lisp. Jomini divides the battle of Waterloo into four moments; Muffling cuts it up into three changes; Charras alone, though we hold another judgment than his on some points, seized with his haughty glance the characteristic outlines of that catastrophe of human genius in conflict with divine chance. All the other historians suffer from being somewhat dazzled, and in this dazzled state they fumble about. It was a day of lightning brilliancy; in fact, a crumbling of the military monarchy which, to the vast stupefaction of kings, drew all the kingdoms after it — the fall of force, the defeat of war.

“A battle terminated, a day finished, false measures repaired, greater successes assured for the morrow,— all was lost by a moment of panic, terror.”— Napoleon, Dictees de Sainte Helene.

In this event, stamped with superhuman necessity, the part played by men amounts to nothing.

If we take Waterloo from Wellington and Blucher, do we thereby deprive England and Germany of anything? No. Neither that illustrious England nor that august Germany enter into the problem of Waterloo. Thank Heaven, nations are great, independently of the lugubrious feats of the sword. Neither England, nor Ger-

many, nor France is contained in a scabbard. At this epoch when Waterloo is only a clashing of swords, above Blucher, Germany has Schiller; above Wellington, England has Byron. A vast dawn of ideas is the peculiarity of our century, and in that aurora England and Germany have a magnificent radiance. They are majestic because they think. The elevation of level which they contribute to civilization is intrinsic with them; it proceeds from themselves and not from an accident. The aggrandizement which they have brought to the nineteenth century has not Waterloo as its source. It is only barbarous peoples who undergo rapid growth after a victory. That is the temporary vanity of torrents swelled by a storm. Civilized people, especially in our day, are neither elevated nor abased by the good or bad fortune of a captain. Their specific gravity in the human species results from something more than a combat. Their honor, thank God! their dignity, their intelligence, their genius, are not numbers which those gamblers, heroes and conquerors, can put in the lottery of battles. Often a battle is lost and progress is conquered. There is less glory and more liberty.

The drum holds its peace; reason takes the word.

It is a game in which he who loses wins. Let us, therefore, speak of Waterloo coldly from both sides. Let us render to chance that which is due to chance, and to God that which is due to God. What is Waterloo? A victory? No. The winning number in the lottery.

The quine* won by Europe, paid by France. *Five winning numbers in a lottery.

It was not worth while to place a lion there.

Waterloo, moreover, is the strangest encounter in history. Napoleon and Wellington. They are not enemies; they are opposites. Never did God, who is fond of antitheses, make a more striking contrast, a more extraordinary comparison. On one side, precision, foresight, geometry, prudence, an assured retreat, reserves spared, with an obstinate coolness, an imperturbable method, strategy, which takes advantage of the ground, tactics, which preserve the equilibrium of bat-

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e rv S se U N Ob N IO BO CT SE

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talions, carnage, executed according to rule, war regulated, watch in hand, nothing voluntarily left to chance, the ancient classic courage, absolute regularity; on the other, intuition, divination, military oddity, superhuman instinct, a flaming glance, an indescribable something which gazes like an eagle, and which strikes like the lightning, a prodigious art in disdainful impetuosity, all the mysteries of a profound soul, associated with destiny; the stream, the plain, the forest, the hill, summoned, and in a manner, forced to obey, the despot going even so far as to tyrannize over the field of battle; faith in a star mingled with strategic science, elevating but perturbing it. Wellington was the Bareme of war; Napoleon was its Michael Angelo; and on this occasion, genius was vanquished by calculation. On both sides some one was awaited. It was the exact calculator who succeeded. Napoleon was waiting for Grouchy; he did not come. Wellington expected Blucher; he came.

Wellington is classic war taking its revenge.

Bonaparte, at his dawning, had encountered him in Italy, and beaten him superbly. The old owl had fled before the young vulture. The old tactics had been not only struck as by lightning, but disgraced. Who was that Corsican of six and twenty? What signified that splendid ignoramus, who, with everything against him, nothing in his favor, without provisions, without ammunition, without cannon, without shoes, almost without an army, with a mere handful of men against masses, hurled himself on Europe combined, and absurdly won victories in the impossible?

Whence had issued that fulminating convict, who almost without taking breath, and with the same set of combatants in hand, pulverized, one after the other, the five armies of the emperor of Germany, upsetting Beaulieu on Alvinzi, Wurmser on Beaulieu, Melas on Wurmser, Mack on Melas? Who was this novice in war with the effrontery of a luminary? The academical military school excommunicated him, and as it lost its footing; hence, the implacable rancor of the old Caesarism against the new; of the regular sword against the flaming sword; and of the exchequer against genius. On the 18th of June, 1815, that rancor had the last word. and beneath Lodi, Montebello, Montenotte, Mantua, Arcola, it wrote: Waterloo. A triumph of the mediocres which is sweet to the majority. Destiny consented to this irony. In his decline, Napoleon found Wurmser, the younger, again in front of him.

In fact, to get Wurmser, it sufficed to blanch the hair of Wellington.

Waterloo is a battle of the first order, won by a captain of the second.

That which must be admired in the battle of Waterloo, is England; the English firmness, the English resolution, the English blood; the superb thing about England there, no offence to her, was herself. It was not her captain; it was her army.

Wellington, oddly ungrateful, declares in a letter to Lord Bathurst, that his army, the army which fought on the 18th of June, 1815, was a “detestable army.” What does that sombre intermingling of bones buried beneath the furrows of Waterloo think of that?

England has been too modest in the matter of Wellington. To make Wellington so great is to belittle England. Wellington is nothing but a hero like many another. Those Scotch Grays, those Horse Guards, those regiments of Maitland and of Mitchell, that infantry of Pack and Kempt, that cavalry of Ponsonby and Somerset, those Highlanders playing the pibroch under the shower of grape-shot, those battalions of Rylandt, those utterly raw recruits, who hardly knew how to handle a musket holding their own against Essling’s and Rivoli’s old troops,— that is what was grand. Wellington was tenacious; in that lay his merit, and we are not seeking to lessen it: but the least of his foot-soldiers and of his cavalry would have been as solid as he. The iron soldier is worth as much as the Iron Duke.

As for us, all our glorification goes to the English soldier, to the English army, to the English people. If trophy there be, it is to England that the trophy is due. The column of Waterloo would be more just, if, instead of the figure of a man, it bore on high the statue of a people.

Continued on Page 32

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Observer Classic Books From Page 31 But this great England will be angry at what we are saying here. She still cherishes, after her own 1688 and our 1789, the feudal illusion. She believes in heredity and hierarchy. This people, surpassed by none in power and glory, regards itself as a nation, and not as a people. And as a people, it willingly subordinates itself and takes a lord for its head. As a workman, it allows itself to be disdained; as a soldier, it allows itself to be flogged.

It will be remembered, that at the battle of Inkermann a sergeant who had, it appears, saved the army, could not be mentioned by Lord Paglan, as the English military hierarchy does not permit any hero below the grade of an officer to be mentioned in the reports.

That which we admire above all, in an encounter of the nature of Waterloo, is the marvellous cleverness of chance. A nocturnal rain, the wall of Hougomont, the hollow road of Ohain, Grouchy deaf to the cannon, Napoleon’s guide deceiving him, Bulow’s guide enlightening him,— the whole of this cataclysm is wonderfully conducted.

On the whole, let us say it plainly, it was more of a massacre than of a battle at Waterloo.

Of all pitched battles, Waterloo is the one which has the smallest front for such a number of combatants. Napoleon three-quarters of a league; Wellington, half a league; seventy-two thousand combatants on each side. From this denseness the carnage arose.

The following calculation has been made, and the following proportion established: Loss of men: at Austerlitz, French, fourteen per cent; Russians, thirty per cent; Austrians, forty-four per cent. At Wagram, French, thirteen per cent; Austrians, fourteen. At the Moskowa, French, thirty-seven per cent; Russians, forty-four. At Bautzen, French, thirteen per cent; Russians and Prussians, fourteen. At Waterloo, French, fiftysix per cent; the Allies, thirty-one. Total for Waterloo, forty-one per cent; one hundred and forty-four thousand combatants; sixty thousand dead.

To-day the field of Waterloo has the calm which belongs to the earth, the impassive support of man, and it resembles all plains.

At night, moreover, a sort of visionary mist arises from it; and if a traveller strolls there, if he listens, if he watches, if he dreams like Virgil in the fatal plains of Philippi, the hallucination of the catastrophe takes possession of him. The frightful 18th of June lives again; the false monumental hillock disappears, the lion vanishes in air, the battle-field resumes its reality, lines of infantry undulate over the plain, furious gallops traverse the horizon; the frightened dreamer beholds the flash of sabres, the gleam of bayonets, the flare of bombs, the tremendous interchange of thunders; he hears, as it were, the death rattle in the depths of a tomb, the vague clamor of the battle phantom; those shadows are grenadiers, those lights are cuirassiers; that skeleton Napoleon, that other skeleton is Wellington; all this no longer exists, and yet it clashes together and combats still; and the ravines are empurpled, and the trees quiver, and there is fury even in the clouds and in the shadows; all those terrible heights, Hougomont, Mont–Saint-Jean, Frischemont, Papelotte, Plancenoit, appear confusedly crowned with whirlwinds of spectres engaged in exterminating each other.

CHAPTER xvii IS WATERLOO TO BE CONSIDERED GOOD? There exists a very respectable liberal school which does not hate Waterloo. We do not belong to it. To us, Waterloo is but the stupefied date of liberty. That such an eagle should emerge from such an egg is certainly unexpected.

If one places one’s self at the culminating point of view of the question, Waterloo is intentionally a counter-revolutionary victory. It is Europe against France; it is Petersburg, Berlin, and Vienna against Paris; it is the statu quo against the initiative; it is the 14th of July, 1789, attacked through the 20th of March, 1815; it is the monarchies clearing the decks in opposition to the indomitable French rioting. The final extinction of that vast people which had been in eruption for twenty-six years — such was the dream.

The solidarity of the Brunswicks, the Nassaus, the Romanoffs, the Hohenzollerns, the Hapsburgs with the Bourbons. Waterloo bears divine right on its crupper. It is true, that the

Empire having been despotic, the kingdom by the natural reaction of things, was forced to be liberal, and that a constitutional order was the unwilling result of Waterloo, to the great regret of the conquerors. It is because revolution cannot be really conquered, and that being providential and absolutely fatal, it is always cropping up afresh: before Waterloo, in Bonaparte overthrowing the old thrones; after Waterloo, in Louis XVIII. granting and conforming to the charter. Bonaparte places a postilion on the throne of Naples, and a sergeant on the throne of Sweden, employing inequality to demonstrate equality; Louis XVIII. at Saint–Ouen countersigns the declaration of the rights of man. If you wish to gain an idea of what revolution is, call it Progress; and if you wish to acquire an idea of the nature of progress, call it To-morrow. To-morrow fulfils its work irresistibly, and it is already fulfilling it today. It always reaches its goal strangely.

It employs Wellington to make of Foy, who was only a soldier, an orator. Foy falls at Hougomont and rises again in the tribune. Thus does progress proceed. There is no such thing as a bad tool for that workman. It does not become disconcerted, but adjusts to its divine work the man who has bestridden the Alps, and the good old tottering invalid of Father Elysee. It makes use of the gouty man as well as of the conqueror; of the conqueror without, of the gouty man within. Waterloo, by cutting short the demolition of European thrones by the sword, had no other effect than to cause the revolutionary work to be continued in another direction. The slashers have finished; it was the turn of the thinkers.

The century that Waterloo was intended to arrest has pursued its march. That sinister victory was vanquished by liberty.

In short, and incontestably, that which triumphed at Waterloo; that which smiled in Wellington’s rear; that which brought him all the marshals’ staffs of Europe, including, it is said, the staff of a marshal of France; that which joyously trundled the barrows full of bones to erect the knoll of the lion; that which triumphantly inscribed on that pedestal the date “June 18, 1815”; that which encouraged Blucher, as he put the flying army to the sword; that which, from the heights of the plateau of Mont–Saint-Jean, hovered over France as over its prey, was the counter-revolution. It was the counter-revolution which murmured that infamous word “dismemberment.” On arriving in Paris, it beheld the crater close at hand; it felt those ashes which scorched its feet, and it changed its mind; it returned to the stammer of a charter.

Let us behold in Waterloo only that which is in Waterloo. Of intentional liberty there is none.

The counter-revolution was involuntarily liberal, in the same manner as, by a corresponding phenomenon, Napoleon was involuntarily revolutionary. On the 18th of June, 1815, the mounted Robespierre was hurled from his saddle.

CHAPTER xviii A RECRUDESCENCE OF DIVINE RIGHT End of the dictatorship. A whole European system crumbled away.

The Empire sank into a gloom which resembled that of the Roman world as it expired. Again we behold the abyss, as in the days of the barbarians; only the barbarism of 1815, which must be called by its pet name of the counter-revolution, was not long breathed, soon fell to panting, and halted short. The Empire was bewept,— let us acknowledge the fact,— and bewept by heroic eyes. If glory lies in the sword converted into a sceptre, the Empire had been glory in person. It had diffused over the earth all the light which tyranny can give a sombre light. We will say more; an obscure light. Compared to the true daylight, it is night. This disappearance of night produces the effect of an eclipse.

Louis XVIII. re-entered Paris. The circling dances of the 8th of July effaced the enthusiasms of the 20th of March. The Corsican became the antithesis of the Bearnese. The flag on the dome of the Tuileries was white. The exile reigned. Hartwell’s pine table took its place in front of the fleur-delys-strewn throne of Louis XIV. Bouvines and Fontenoy were mentioned as though they had taken place on the preceding day, Austerlitz having become antiquated. The altar and the throne fraternized majestically. One of the most undisputed forms of the health of society in the nineteenth century was established over France, and over the continent. Europe adopted the white cockade. Trestaillon was celebrated. The device non pluribus impar re-ap-

peared on the stone rays representing a sun upon the front of the barracks on the Quai d’Orsay.

Where there had been an Imperial Guard, there was now a red house. The Arc du Carrousel, all laden with badly borne victories, thrown out of its element among these novelties, a little ashamed, it may be, of Marengo and Arcola, extricated itself from its predicament with the statue of the Duc d’Angouleme. The cemetery of the Madeleine, a terrible pauper’s grave in 1793, was covered with jasper and marble, since the bones of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette lay in that dust.

In the moat of Vincennes a sepulchral shaft sprang from the earth, recalling the fact that the Duc d’Enghien had perished in the very month when Napoleon was crowned. Pope Pius VII., who had performed the coronation very near this death, tranquilly bestowed his blessing on the fall as he had bestowed it on the elevation.

At Schoenbrunn there was a little shadow, aged four, whom it was seditious to call the King of Rome. And these things took place, and the kings resumed their thrones, and the master of Europe was put in a cage, and the old regime became the new regime, and all the shadows and all the light of the earth changed place, because, on the afternoon of a certain summer’s day, a shepherd said to a Prussian in the forest, “Go this way, and not that!”

This 1815 was a sort of lugubrious April. Ancient unhealthy and poisonous realities were covered with new appearances. A lie wedded 1789; the right divine was masked under a charter; fictions became constitutional; prejudices, superstitions and mental reservations, with Article 14 in the heart, were varnished over with liberalism. It was the serpent’s change of skin.

Man had been rendered both greater and smaller

by Napoleon. Under this reign of splendid matter, the ideal had received the strange name of ideology! It is a grave imprudence in a great man to turn the future into derision. The populace, however, that food for cannon which is so fond of the cannoneer, sought him with its glance.

Where is he? What is he doing? “Napoleon is dead,” said a passer-by to a veteran of Marengo and Waterloo. “He dead!” cried the soldier; “you don’t know him.” Imagination distrusted this man, even when overthrown. The depths of Europe were full of darkness after Waterloo.

Something enormous remained long empty through Napoleon’s disappearance.

The kings placed themselves in this void. Ancient Europe profited by it to undertake reforms.

There was a Holy Alliance; Belle–Alliance, Beautiful Alliance, the fatal field of Waterloo had said in advance.

In presence and in face of that antique Europe reconstructed, the features of a new France were sketched out. The future, which the Emperor had rallied, made its entry. On its brow it bore the star, Liberty. The glowing eyes of all young generations were turned on it. Singular fact! people were, at one and the same time, in love with the future, Liberty, and the past, Napoleon. Defeat had rendered the vanquished greater. Bonaparte fallen seemed more lofty than Napoleon erect. Those who had triumphed were alarmed. England had him guarded by Hudson Lowe, and France had him watched by Montchenu. His folded arms became a source of uneasiness to thrones. Alexander called him “my sleeplessness.” This terror was the result of the quantity of revolution which was contained in him. That is what explains and excuses Bonapartist liberalism. This phantom caused the old world to tremble. The kings reigned, but ill at their ease, with the rock of Saint Helena on the horizon.

While Napoleon was passing through the death struggle at Longwood, the sixty thousand men who had fallen on the field of Waterloo were quietly rotting, and something of their peace was shed abroad over the world. The Congress of Vienna made the treaties in 1815, and Europe called this the Restoration.

This is what Waterloo was.

But what matters it to the Infinite? all that tempest, all that cloud, that war, then that peace?

All that darkness did not trouble for a moment the light of that immense Eye before which a grub skipping from one blade of grass to another equals the eagle soaring from belfry to belfry on the towers of Notre Dame.

CHAPTER xiX THE BATTLE-FIELD AT NIGHT

Let us return — it is a necessity in this book — to that fatal battle-field.

On the 18th of June the moon was full. Its light favored Blucher’s ferocious pursuit, betrayed the traces of the fugitives, delivered up that disastrous mass to the eager Prussian cavalry, and aided the massacre. Such tragic favors of the night do occur sometimes during catastrophes.

After the last cannon-shot had been fired, the plain of Mont–Saint-Jean remained deserted.

The English occupied the encampment of the French; it is the usual sign of victory to sleep in the bed of the vanquished. They established their bivouac beyond Rossomme. The Prussians, let loose on the retreating rout, pushed forward.

Wellington went to the village of Waterloo to draw up his report to Lord Bathurst.

If ever the sic vos non vobis was applicable, it certainly is to that village of Waterloo. Waterloo took no part, and lay half a league from the scene of action. Mont–Saint-Jean was cannonaded, Hougomont was burned, La Haie–Sainte was taken by assault, Papelotte was burned, Plancenoit was burned, La Belle–Alliance beheld the embrace of the two conquerors; these names are hardly known, and Waterloo, which worked not in the battle, bears off all the honor.

We are not of the number of those who flatter war; when the occasion presents itself, we tell the truth about it. War has frightful beauties which we have not concealed; it has also, we acknowledge, some hideous features. One of the most surprising is the prompt stripping of the bodies of the dead after the victory. The dawn which follows a battle always rises on naked corpses.

Who does this? Who thus soils the triumph?

What hideous, furtive hand is that which is slipped into the pocket of victory? What pickpockets are they who ply their trade in the rear of glory? Some philosophers — Voltaire among the number — affirm that it is precisely those persons have made the glory. It is the same men, they say; there is no relief corps; those who are erect pillage those who are prone on the earth.

The hero of the day is the vampire of the night.

One has assuredly the right, after all, to strip a corpse a bit when one is the author of that corpse.

For our own part, we do not think so; it seems to us impossible that the same hand should pluck laurels and purloin the shoes from a dead man.

One thing is certain, which is, that generally after conquerors follow thieves. But let us leave the soldier, especially the contemporary soldier, out of the question.

Every army has a rear-guard, and it is that which must be blamed. Bat-like creatures, half brigands and lackeys; all the sorts of vespertillos that that twilight called war engenders; wearers of uniforms, who take no part in the fighting; pretended invalids; formidable limpers; interloping sutlers, trotting along in little carts, sometimes accompanied by their wives, and stealing things which they sell again; beggars offering themselves as guides to officers; soldiers’ servants; marauders; armies on the march in days gone by,— we are not speaking of the present,— dragged all this behind them, so that in the special language they are called “stragglers.” No army, no nation, was responsible for those beings; they spoke Italian and followed the Germans, then spoke French and followed the English. It was by one of these wretches, a Spanish straggler who spoke French, that the Marquis of Fervacques, deceived by his Picard jargon, and taking him for one of our own men, was traitorously slain and robbed on the battle-field itself, in the course of the night which followed the victory of Cerisoles. The rascal sprang from this marauding. The detestable maxim, Live on the enemy! produced this leprosy, which a strict discipline alone could heal. There are reputations which are deceptive; one does not always know why certain generals, great in other directions, have been so popular. Turenne was adored by his soldiers because he tolerated pillage; evil permitted constitutes part of goodness. Turenne was so good that he allowed the Palatinate to be delivered over to fire and blood. The marauders in the train of an army were more or less in number, according as the chief was more or less severe. Hoche and Marceau had no stragglers; Wellington had few, and we do him the justice to mention it.

Nevertheless, on the night from the 18th to the 19th of June, the dead were robbed. Wellington - Continued on Page 49

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348 Glenhuntly Rd, Elsternwick. (03) 9523 8335.

ELSTERNWICK, 3185. Elsternwick Office Supplies.

433 Glenhuntly Rd, Elsternwick. (03) 9523 6495.

ELSTERNWICK, 3185. Ripponlea Newsagency. 78 Glen Eira Rd, Elsternwick. (03) 9523 5649.

ELTHAM, 3095. Eltham Newsagency & Toyworld.

958 Main Rd. (03) 9439 9162.

ELWOOD, 3184. Elwood Newsagency. 103 Ormond Rd, Elwood. (03) 9531 4223.

EMERALD, 3782. Emerald Newsagency. Main St, Emerald. (03) 5968 5152.

EPPING, 3076. Dalton Village Newsagency. (03) 9408 8877.

ESSENDON, 3040. Essendon Newsagency. 15A Rose St, Essendon. (03) 9337 5908.

ESSENDON, 3040. Roundabout Newsagency. 94 Fletcher St, Essendon. (03) 9370 5305.

ESSENDON NORTH, 3041. North Essendon Newsagency. 1085 Mt Alexander Rd, North Essendon. (03) 9379 2243.

FAIRFIELD, 3078. Fairfield Newsagency. 99 Station St, Fairfield. (03) 9481 3240.

FAWKNER, 3060. Fawkner Newsagency. 54 Bonwick St, Fawkner. (03) 9359 2046.

FAWKNER, 3060. Moomba Park Newsagency. 89 Anderson Rd, Fawkner. (03) 9359 1595.

FERNTREE GULLY, 3156. Ferntree Gully Newsagency. Shop 2, 69 Station St, Ferntree Gully. (03) 9758 1343.

FERNTREE GULLY, 3156. Mountain Gate Newsagency. Shop 9B, Ferntree Gully. (03) 9758 4427.

FERNTREE GULLY UPPER, 3156. Upper Ferntree Gully Newsagency. Shop 3 Ferntree Plaza. (03) 9756 0171.

FITZROY, 3065. Fitzroy Newsagency. 337 Brunswick St, Fitzroy. (03) 9417 3017.

FITZROY NORTH, 3068. North Fitzroy Newsagency.

224 St Georges Rd, Fitzroy North. (03) 9489 8614.

FOOTSCRAY WEST, 3012. Kingsville Newsagency.

339 Somerville Rd, Footscray West. (03) 9314 5004.

FOREST HILL, 3131. Brentford Square Newsagency. 29-31 Brentford Sq., Forest Hill.

(03) 9878 1882.

FOREST HILL, 3131. NewsXPress Forest Hill. Shop 215, Western Entrance, Forest Hill. (03) 9878 2515.

FOUNTAIN GATE, 3805. Fountain Gate Newsagency. Shop 1157 (Level 1), Fountain Gate. (03) 9704 6408.

FRANKSTON, 3199. Beach Street Newsagency.

239 Beach St, Frankston. (03) 9789 9736.

FRANKSTON, 3199. Foote Street Newsagency. c/ - Bayside Distribution Services. (03) 9783 4720.

FRANKSTON, 3199. Frankston Newsagency. 5 Keys St, Frankston. (03) 9783 3253.

FRANKSTON, 3199. Karingal Hub Newsagency. c/ - Bayside Distribution Services. (03) 9776 7744.

FRANKSTON, 3199. Young Street Newsagency. 78 Young St, Frankston. (03) 9783 2467.

GARDENVALE, 3186. See Brighton.

GARFIELD, 3814. Garfield Newsagency Pty Ltd. 77 Main St, Garfield. (03) 5629 2533.

GEELONG, 3220. Geelong Newsagency & Lotto.

139 Moorabool St, Geelong. (03) 5222 1911.

GEELONG EAST, 3219. East Geelong Newsagency.

78A Garden St. (03) 5229 5109.

GEELONG WEST, 3218. Manifold Newsagency.

Shop 2, 132 Shannon Ave, Geelong West. (03) 5229 5897.

GEELONG WEST, 3218. Murphy's Newsagency. PO Box 7133, Geelong West. (03) 5229 1973.

GISBORNE, 3437. Gisborne Newsagency. Shop 20, Village Shopping Centre. (03) 5428 2632.

GLADSTONE PARK, 3043. Gladstone Park Newsagency. Shop 164. (03) 9338 3921.

GLEN HUNTLY, 3163. Glenhuntly Newsagency.

1164 Glenhuntly Rd, Glenhuntly. (03) 9571 2551.

GLEN WAVERLEY, 3150. Glen Waverley News.

Shop L2, 65 Glen S/C, Springvale Rd, Glen Waverley. (03) 9802 8503.

GLEN WAVERLEY, 3150. Kingsway Newsagency.

65 Kingsway, Glen Waverley. (03) 9560 9987.

GLEN WAVERLEY, 3150. Syndal Newsagency. 238 Blackburn Rd, Glen Waverley. (03) 9802 8446.

GLENFERRIE, 3122. See Hawthorn.

GLENROY, 3046. Glenroy Newsagency. 773 Pascoe Vale Rd, Glenroy. (03) 9306 9530.

GRANTVILLE, 3984. Grantville Newsagency. Shop 4, 1509 Bass Hwy, Grantville. (03) 5678 8808.

GREENSBOROUGH, 3088. Greensborough Newsagency. Shop 4-5 Greensborough. (03) 9435 1024.

GREENVALE, 3059. Greenvale Newsagency. Shop 4 & 5, Cnr Mickleham & Greenvale Rds, Greenvale. (03) 9333 3154.

GROVEDALE, 3216. Grovedale Newsagency. 19 Peter St. (03) 5243 1480.

HADFIELD, 3046. Hadfield Newsagency. 120 West St, Hadfield. (03) 9306 5007.

HAMPTON, 3188. Hampton Newsagency. 345-347 Hampton St, Hampton. (03) 9598 1239.

HAMPTON EAST, 3188. Hampton East Newsagency.

412 Bluff Rd, Hampton East.(03) 9555 2821.

HAMPTON PARK, 3976. Hampton Park Newsagency. Shop 3, Park Square, Hampton Park. (03) 9799 1609.

HASTINGS, 3915. Hastings Newsagency. 56 High St. (03) 5979 1321.

HAWTHORN, 3122. Glenferrie Newsagency.669 Burwood Rd, Hawthorn. (03) 9818 2621.

HAWTHORN EAST, 3123. Auburn Newsagency. 119 Auburn Rd, Hawthorn East. (03) 9813 4838.

HAWTHORN EAST, 3123. Auburn South Newsagency. 289 Auburn Rd, Hawthorn East.

(03) 9882 2009.

HAWTHORN WEST, 3122. Hawthorn West Newsagency. 44 Church St, Hawthorn. (03) 9853 6098.

HEALESVILLE, 3777. Healesville Newsagency.

(03) 5962 4161.

HEIDELBERG, 3084. Heidelberg Newsagency. 128 Burgundy St, Heidelberg. (03) 9457 1098.

HEIDELBERG WEST, 3081. Heidelberg Heights Newsagency. 35 Southern Rd, Heidelberg West.

(03) 9457 2063.

HEIDELBERG WEST, 3081. The Mall Newsagency.

Shop 18, Heidelberg West. (03) 9457 4244.

HIGHETT, 3190. Highett Newsagency. 2 Railway Pde, Highett. (03) 9555 1010.

HIGHTON, 3216. Highton Newsagency. 7 Bellevue Ave. (03) 5243 4824, HOPPERS CROSSING, 3030. Hoppers Crossing Newsagency. 31 Old Geelong Rd, Hoppers Crossing. (03) 9749 2652, HUNTINGDALE, 3166. Huntingdale Newsagency.

291 Huntingdale Rd, Huntingdale. (03) 9544 1175.

HURSTBRIDGE, 3099. Hurstbridge Newsagency.

800 Main Rd. (03) 9718 2045.

IVANHOE, 3079. NewsXPress. 194-196 Upper Heidelberg Rd, Ivanhoe. (03) 9499 1231.

IVANHOE EAST, 3079. East Ivanhoe Newsagency.

262 Lower Heidelberg Rd, Ivanhoe East. (03) 9499 1720.

KEILOR, 3036. Centreway Newsagency. 59 Wyong St, Keilor East, 3033. (03) 9336 2451.

KEILOR, 3036. Keilor Newsagency. 700 Calder Hwy, Keilor. (03) 9336 7930.

KEILOR DOWNS, 3038. Keilor Downs Newsagency.

Shop 3, Keilor Downs Plaza, Keilor Downs. (03) 9310 9955.

KEW, 3101. Cotham Newsagency. 97 Cotham Rd, Kew. (03) 9817 3840.

KEW, 3101. Kew Newsagency. 175 High St, Kew. (03) 9853 8238.

KEW NORTH, 3101. North Kew Newsagency. 93 Willsemere Rd, Kew. (03) 9853 9383.

KEYSBOROUGH, 3173. Parkmore Newsagency.

Parkmore Shopping Centre, Kensington. (03) 9798 4311.

KILMORE, 3764. Kilmore Newsagency. 41 Sydney St. (03) 5782 1465.

KILSYTH, 3137. Kilsyth Newsagency. 520 Mt Dandenong Rd. (03) 9725 6218.

KINGSVILLE, 3012. See Footscray West.

KNOX CITY. See Wantirna South KNOXFIELD, 3180. Knoxfield Newsagency. (03) 9764 8260.

KOO-WEE-RUP, 3981. Koo Wee Rup Newsagency.

44-48 Station St, Koo Wee Rup. (03) 5997 1456.

LALOR, 3075. Lalor Newsagency. 364 Station St, Lalor. (03) 9465 2698.

LARA, 3212. Lara Newsagency. 44 The Centreway, Lara. (03) 5282 1419.

LAVERTON, 3028. Laverton Newsagency. 12 Aviation Rd, Laverton. (03) 9369 1426.

LEOPOLD, 3028. Leopold Newsagency. 45 Ash Rd, Leopold. (03) 5250 1687.

LILYDALE, 3140. Lilydale Newsagency. 237 Main St. (03) 9735 1705.

LOWER PLENTY, 3093. Lower Plenty Newsagency.

95 Main Rd. (03) 9435 6423.

LOWER TEMPLESTOWE, 3107. See Templestowe Lower.

MALVERN, 3144. Malvern Newsagency. 114 Glenferrie Rd, Malvern. (03) 9509 8381.

MALVERN, 3144. Malvern Village Newsagency.

1352 Malvern Rd, Malvern. (03) 9822 3761.

MALVERN, 3144. Winterglen Newsagency Malvern Lotto. 167 Glenferrie Rd, Malvern. (03) 9509 9068.

MALVERN EAST, 3145. Central Park Newsagency.

393 Wattletree Rd, Malvern East. (03) 9509 9842.

McCRAE, 3938. McCrae Newsagency, 675 Point Nepean Rd. (03) 5986 8499.

McKINNON, 3204. McKinnon Newsagency. 148 McKinnon Rd, McKinnon. (03) 9578 4478.

MELBOURNE, 3000. Mitty's Newsagency. 53 Bourke St, Melbourne. (03) 9654 5950.

MELTON, 3337. Melton Authorised Newsagency.

383-385 High St, Melton. (03) 9743 5451.

MELTON, 3337. NewsXPress. (03) 9743 5451.

MENTONE, 3194. Mentone Newsagency. 24 Como Pde, Mentone. (03) 9585 3494.

MERLYNSTON, 3058. Merlynston Newsagency. (03) 9354 1532.

MIDDLE BRIGHTON, 3186. Middle Brighton Newsagency. 75-77 Church St, Middle Brighton.

(03) 9592 1000.

MIDDLE PARK, 3206. Middle Park Newsagency.

16 Armstrong St, Middle Park.

MILDURA, 3500. Klemm's Mildura Newsagency.

(03) 5302 1004.

MILL PARK, 3082. Mill Park Authorised Newsagency. Stables Shopping Centre, Cnr Childs Rd & Redleap Ave, Mill Park. (03) 9436 4400.

MITCHAM, 3132. Mitcham Newsagency. 503 Whitehorse Rd, Mitcham. (03) 9873 1108.

MOE, 3825. Yeatman's Newsagency. 3A Moore St, Moe. (03) 5127 1002.

MONT ALBERT., 3127. Mont Albert Newsagency.

42 Hamilton St, Mont Albert. (03) 9890 1140.

MONTMORENCY, 3094. Montmorency Newsagency.

41-43 Were St. (03) 9435 8893.

MONTROSE, 3765. Montrose Newsagency. 912 Mt Dandenong Rd. (03) 9728 2057.

MOONEE PONDS, 3039. Puckle Street Newsagency.

45 Puckle St, Moonee Ponds. (03) 9375 2264.

MORDIALLOC, 3195. Mordialloc Newsagency.

574A Main St, Mordialloc. (03) 9580 5141.

MORDIALLOC, 3195. Warren Village Newsagency.

87 Warren Rd. (03) 9580 3880.

MORELAND, 3056. See Brunswick.

MORNINGTON, 3931. Mornington Newsagency. 97 Main St, Mornington. (03) 5975 2099.

MORNINGTON, 3931. Scribes Newsagency. Shop 1/10, Mornington Village, Mornington. (03) 5975 5849.

If your local newsagency is not listed, and you would like them to stock the Melbourne Observer, please ask them to contact All Day Distribution, phone (03) 9482 1145.

MORWELL, 3840. Morwell Newsagency. 176 Commercial Rd, Morwell. (03) 5134 4133.

MOUNT ELIZA, 3934. Mount Eliza Newsagency.

102 Mount Eliza Way. (03) 5974 2347.

MOUNT MARTHA, 3934. Mount Martha Newsagency. 2 Lochiel Ave, Mount Martha. (03) 5974 2347.

MOUNT WAVERLEY, 3149. Pinewood Newsagency.

Shop 59, Centreway Shopping Centre, Mount Waverley. (03) 9802 7008.

MOUNTAIN GATE, 3156. See Ferntree Gully.

MT EVELYN, 3658. Mt Evelyn Newsagency. 1A Wray Cres. (03) 9736 2302.

MULGRAVE, 3170. Northvale Newsagency. 901 Springvale Rd, Mulgrave. (03) 9546 0200.

MULGRAVE, 3170. Waverley Gardens Newsagency. Shop 44, Waverley Gardens, Mulgrave. (03) 9547 5773.

MURCHISON, 3610. Murchison Newsagency, Murchison. (03) 5826 2152, MURRUMBEENA, 3163. Murrumbeena Newsagency. 456 Nerrim Rd, Murrumbenna. (03) 9568 1959.

NARRE WARREN, 3805. Narre Warren News & Tatts. Shop 1 Webb St, Narre Warren. (03) 9704 6495.

NEWCOMB, 3220. Newcomb Newsagency, Geelong. (03) 5248 5434.

NEWMARKET, 3031. Newmarket Newsagency. 294 Racecourse Rd, Newmarket. (03) 9376 6075.

NEWPORT, 3015. Newport Newsagency. 6 Hall St, Newport. (03) 9391 2548.

NIDDRIE, 3042. Niddrie Newsagency. 455 Keilor Rd, Niddrie. (03) 9379 3840.

NOBLE PARK, 3174. Noble Park Newsagency. 22 Douglas St, Noble Park. (03) 9546 9079.

NOBLE PARK, 3174. Variety Newsagency. 1268 Heatherton Rd, Noble Park. (03) 9546 7916.

NORTH BALWYN, 3104. See Balwyn North.

NORTH MELBOURNE, 3051. See West Melbourne.

NORTH MELBOURNE, 3051. Haines Street Newsagency. 46 Haines St. (03) 9328 1195.

NORTH MELBOURNE, 3051. News On Errol. (03) 9326 3744.

NORTHCOTE, 3070. Croxton Newsagency. 509 High St, Northcote. (03) 9481 3624.

NORTHCOTE, 3070. Northcote Newsagency. 335 High St, Northcote. (03) 9481 3725.

NORTHCOTE, 3070. Northcote Newsplaza. (03) 9481 7130.

NUNAWADING, 3131. Mountainview Newsagency.

293A Springfield Rd, Nunawading. (03) 9878 7887.

NYAH, 3594. Nyah General Store. (03) 5030 2230.

OAK PARK, 3046. Oak Park Newsagency. 120 Snell Grove, Oak Park. (03) 9306 5472.

OAKLEIGH, 3166. Oakleigh Newsagency. Shop 61-63, Oakleigh. (03) 9563 0703.

OAKLEIGH EAST, 3166. Oakleigh East Auth.

Newsagency. 190 Huntingdale Rd, East Oakleigh.

(03) 9544 4322.

OAKLEIGH SOUTH, 3167. Oakleigh South Newsagency. (03) 9570 5833.

OCEAN GROVE, 3226. Ocean Grove Newsagency.

82 The Terrace, Ocean Grove. (03) 5256 1779.

PAKENHAM, 3810. Pakenham Newsagency. 99 Main St, Pakenham. (03) 5941 1243.

PARKDALE, 3195. Parkdale Newsagencxy. 238 Como Pde. (03) 9580 1724.

PASCOE VALE, 3044. Pascoe Vale Central Newsagency. 110 Cumberland Rd, Pascoe Vale.

(03) 9354 8472.

PASCOE VALE, 3044. Coonans Hill News/Tatts/ Post Office. 67 Coonans Rd, Pascoe Vale South.

(03) 9386 7465.

PASCOE VALE SOUTH, 3044. Paper N Post. Pascoe Vale South. (03) 9354 1432.

PEARCEDALE, 3912. Pearcedale Newsagency.

Shop 14, Pearcedale Village Shopping Centre, Pearcedale. (03) 5978 6343.

POINT COOK, 3030. NewsXPress. (03) 9395 0424.

POINT LONSDALE, 3225. Point Lonsdale Newsagency. 99 Point Lonsdale Rd. (03) 5258 1159.

PORT MELBOURNE, 3207. Port Melbourne Distribution. (03) 9681 8122.

PORTARLINGTON, 3223. Portarlington Newsagency. Shop 1, 60 Newcombe St, Portarlington. (03) 5289 2892.

PRAHRAN, 3181. Prahran Market Newsagency.

Shop 3A Pran Central, Prahran. (03) 9521 1200.

PRESTON, 3072. Northland Newsagency. Shop 3, Northland Shopping Centre. (03) 9478 2693.

PRESTON, 3072. Preston Newsagency. 377 High St, Preston. (03) 9478 3001.

PRESTON, 3072. Preston Town Hall Newsagency.

411 High St, Preston. (03) 9470 1630.

PRINCES HILL, 3054. See Carlton North.

QUEENSCLIFF, 3225. Queenscliff Newsagency. (03) 5258 1828.

RESERVOIR, 3073. Reservoir Newsagency. 22 Edwardes St, Reservoir. (03) 9460 6317.

RESERVOIR, 3073. Broadway Newsagency. 279 Broadway, Reservoir. (03) 9460 6510.

RHYLL, 3923. Rhyll Newsagency. 41 Lock Rd, Rhyll.

(03) 5956 9205.

RICHMOND, 3121. Swan Street Newsagency. 108 Swan St, Richmond. (03) 9428 7450.

RICHMOND, 3121. Vernons Newsagency. 308A Bridge Rd, Richmond. (03) 9428 7373.

RINGWOOD EAST, 3135. Ringwood East Newsagency. 52 Railway Ave, Ringwood East.

(03) 9870 6515.

RINGWOOD NORTH, 3134. North Ringwood Newsagency. 182 Warrandyte Rd, North Ringwood. (03) 9876 2765.

ROBINVALE, 3549. Robinvale Newsagency. (03) 5026 3264.

ROCKBANK, 3335. Rockbank Newsagency. (03) 9747 1300.

ROSANNA, 3084. Rosanna Newsagency. 135 Lower Plenty Rd, Rosanna. (03) 9459 7722.

ROSANNA EAST, 3084. Banyule Newsagency. 55 Greville Rd, East Rosanna. (03) 9459 7027.

ROSEBUD, 3939. Rosebud Newsagency. 1083 Nepean Hwy, Rosebud. (03) 5986 8359.

RYE, 3941. Rye Newsagency. 2371 Point Nepean Rd, Rye. (03) 5985 2013.

SANCTUARY LAKES, 3030. Sanctuary Lakes Newsagency. Shop 16, 300 Point Cook Rd. (03) 9395 4055.

SALE, 3850. Sale Newsagency. (03) 5144 2070.

SAN REMO, 3925. San Remo Newsagency. 105 Marine Pde, San Remo. (03) 5678 5447.

SANDRINGHAM, 3191. Sandringham Newsagency.

58-60 Station St, Sandringham. (03) 9598 1246.

SEAFORD, 3198. Carrum Downs Newsagency. (03) 9782 6333.

SEAFORD, 3198. Seaford Newsagency. 124 Nepean Hwy, Seaford. (03) 9786 1220.

SEDDON, 3011. Seddon Newsagency & Lotto. 74 Charles St, Seddon. (03) 9687 1919.

SEVILLE, 3139. Seville Newsagency. 654 Warburton Hwy. (03) 5964 2236.

SHEPPARTON, 3630. Lovell's Newsagency. 246 Wyndham St, Shepparton. (03) 5821 2622.

SOMERVILLE, 3912. Somerville Newsagency.

Shop 24, Plaza, Eramosa Rd West, Somerville.

(03) 5977 5282.

SOUTHBANK, 3006. Melbourne Central Newsagency. 292 City Rd, Southbank. (03) 9690 3900.

SOUTH MELBOURNE, 3205. Clarendon Newsagency. 276 Clarendon St, South Melbourne.

(03) 9690 1350.

SOUTH MELBOURNE, 3205. South Melbourne Newsagency. 358 Clarendon St, South Melbourne.

(03) 9690 7481.

SOUTH MORANG, 3752. South Morang Newsagency. 17-19 Gorge Rd. (03) 9404 1502.

SPRINGVALE, 3171. Springvale Newsagency. 321 Springvale Rd, Springvale. (03) 9546 9235.

ST KILDA, 3182. Esplanade Newsagency. 115 Fitzroy St, St Kilda. (03) 9525 3321.

ST KILDA, 3182. St Kilda Junction Newsagency.

52 St Kilda Rd, St Kilda. (03) 9510 1056.

ST KILDA, 3182. Village Belle Newsagency. 161163 Acland St, St Kilda. (03) 9525 5167.

ST LEONARDS, 3223. St Leonards Newsagency.

Foreshore Rd, St Leonards. (03) 5257 1604.

STRATHMORE, 3041. Napier Street Newsagency.

313 Napier St, Strathmore. (03) 9379 2603.

STRATHMORE, 3041. Strathmore Newsagency. 15 Woodland St, Strathmore. (03) 9379 1515.

SUNBURY, 3429. Sunbury Authorised Newsagency. 14 Brook St, Sunbury. (03) 9744 1220.

SUNSHINE, 3020. Sunshine Newsagency. 3/282 Hampshire Rd, Sunshine. (03) 9312 2654.

SUNSHINE SOUTH, 3020. South Sunshine Newsagency. 22 Tallintyre Rd, Sunshine. (03) 9312 1629.

TAYLORS LAKES, 3038. Watergardens Newsagency. Shop 92, Bay B (Near Safeway), Taylors Lakes. (03) 9449 1122.

TEESDALE, 3328. Teesdale Newsagency. 1071 Bannockburn Rd. (03) 5281 5230.

TEMPLESTOWE, 3106. Templestowe Newsagency.

122 James St, Templestowe. (03) 9846 2486.

TEMPLESTOWE LOWER, 3107. Macedon News & Lotto. 25 Macedon Rd, Lower Templestowe. (03) 9850 2720.

THORNBURY, 3071. Normanby Newsagency. 703 High St, Thornbury. (03) 9484 2802.

THORNBURY, 3071. Rossmoyne Newsagency. 406 Station St,Thornbury. (03) 9484 6967.

TOORADIN, 3980. Tooradin Newsagency. 94 South Gippsland Hwy, Tooradin. (03) 5996 3343.

TOORAK, 3142. Hawksburn Newsagency. 529 Malvern Rd, Toorak. (03) 9827 3569.

TOORAK, 3142. Toorak Village Newsagency. 487 Toorak Rd, Toorak. (03) 9826 1549.

TORQUAY, 3228. Torquay Newsagency. 20 Gilbert St, Torquay. (03) 5261 2448.

TOTTENHAM, 3012. Braybrook Newsagency. 127 South Rd, Tottenham. (03) 9364 8083.

TULLAMARINE, 3045. Tullamarine Newsagency.

199 Melrose Dr, Tullamarine. (03) 9338 1063.

UNDERA, 3629. Undera Newsagency. (03) 5826 0242.

UPWEY, 3158. Upwey Newsagency. 18 Main St, Upwey. (03) 9754 2324.

UPPER FERNTREE GULLY, 3156. Upper Ferntree Gully Newsagency. (03) 9756 0171.

VERMONT, 3133. Vermont Authorised Newsagency. 600 Canterbury Rd, Vermont South.

(03) 9873 1845.

VERMONT SOUTH, 3133. Vermont South Newsagency. 495 Burwood Hwy, Vermont South.

(03) 9802 4768.

WALLAN, 3756. Wallan Newsagency. 59 High St. (03) 5783 1215.

WANDIN NORTH, 3139. Wandin North Newsagency. 18 Union Rd. (03) 5964 3339.

WANTIRNA SOUTH, 3152. Knox City Newsagency.

Shop 2080, Shopping Centre. (03) 9801 5050.

WANTIRNA SOUTH, 3152. Wantirna South Newsagency. 233 Stud Rd.. (03) 9801 2310.

WARRAGUL, 3820. Heeps Newsagency. 6 Victoria St, Warragul. (03) 5623 1737.

WATSONIA, 3087. Watsonia Newsagency. 93 Watsonia Rd, Watsonia. (03) 9435 2175.

WATTLE PARK, 3128. See Box Hill South.

WERRIBEE, 3030. Werribee Newsagency. 16 Station Pl, Werribee. (03) 9741 4644.

WERRIBEE, 3030. Werribee Plaza Newsagency.

Shop 37, Shopping Centre, Werribee Plaza. (03) 9749 6766.

WEST MELBOURNE, 3003. North Melbourne Newsagency. 178-182 Rosslyn St, West Melbourne. (03) 9328 1763.

WESTALL, 3169. Westall Newsagency. 148 Rosebank Ave, Westall. (03) 9546 7867.

WHEELERS HILL, 3150. Brandon Park Newsagency. Shop 28, Wheelers Hill. (03) 9560 5854.

WHEELERS HILL, 3150. Wheelers Hill Newsagency. 200 Jells Rd, Wheelers Hill. (03) 9561 5318.

WHITTLESEA, 3757. Whittlesea Newsagency. 59 Church St. (03) 9716 2060.

WILLIAMSTOWN, 3016. Williamstown News & Lotto. 16 Douglas Pde, Williamstown. (03) 9397 6020.

WINDSOR, 3181. Windsor Newsagency. 71 Chapel St, Windsor. (03) 9510 2030.

WONTHAGGI, 3995. Wonthaggi Newsagency. 27A McBride St, Wonthaggi. (03) 5672 1256.

WOORI YALLOCK. Woori Yallock Newsagency. (03) 5964 6008.

YARRA GLEN, 3775. Yarra Glen Newsagency. (03) 9730 1392.

YARRAVILLE, 3013. Yarraville Newsagency. 59 Anderson St, Yarraville. (03) 9687 2987.

YEA, 3717. Yea Newsagency, 78 High St. (03) 5797 2196.

ADVERTISING FEATURE

Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2011 - Page 37

Things To Do

■ Feel like conquering a mountain? Pushing your limits? Achieving a goal? Or just having some fun in the outdoors, then Westcoast Adventure and Westcoast Surf School has the action for you.

Quality outdoor adventures have been their thing since 1993 covering everything from surf to snow.

They have a great range of activities: kayaking, rock climbing, abseiling, coastal walks and more.

With the Melbourne Cup Weekend leading into the warmer summer weather, the experienced and fully qualified Westcoast staff are ready to get you on your way.

Westcoast Directors Sam Edwards and Dane Hubbard have more than 30 years experience in the industry. They just love their outdoor sports - and thier enthusiasm is infectious.

“The main reason we do it is to put smiles on dials, we see the biggest smiles,” Sam tells the Melbourne Observer.

“It’s something you can learn for life.”

Westcoast Surf School is one of the main providers for the Vegemite SurfrGroms junior surf program, roling out for its second year at all the region’s main beaches including Torquay, Anglesea and Ocean Grove.

Westcoast Adventure is fully accredited through the Australian Tourism Acreditation Program, an accredited Surfing Australia/Surfing Victoria surf school and follows the Department of Education and Adventure Activity Standards safety guidelines.

To find out more about the vast range of programs Westcoast Adventure offers head to westcoastadventure.org

www.MelbourneObserver.com.au

Page 38 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2011

Travel Extra

Testimony from a customer who hired my 2012 model 13ft Starcraft for just over 3 weeks.

Tony and I have recently returned from a caravan journey to Uluru, the Flinders Ranges, Clare Valley and Barossa Valley. Our caravan was supplied by Eastern Caravan Hire and we couldn't have been happier with the van and the attention to detail shown by David. We appreciated the assistance we were given in choosing the correct caravan to suit the size of our small SUV. We had no difficulty with the towing, our Forester pulling the van with ease! We appreciated our surprise bottle of wine and chocolate on our first night out. Our caravan was comfortable, clean and fully kitted with all we needed to make our trip enjoyable. We can thoroughly endorse Eastern Caravan Hire and their quality caravans as a great way to get a taste of caravanning. Thank you David and Eastern Caravan Hire for making our trip such an enjoyable one. Cheryl and Tony.

Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2011 - Page 39

www.MelbourneObserver.com.au

Melbourne People

October Mussel Fest Village Brasserie, St Kilda Rd Photos: Mark Richardson

● Jennifer Gallop and Lance Wiffen ● Alex Drysdale and Pixie Gill

● Creighton Dickie and Jan Russell-Clarke

● Chefs Justin Lenartas and Nayeli

● MC Guy Durance with Cr Susan Riley

● Lyndall Tennant and Peter Russell-Clarke

● Matt and Peter Lillie

● Matt Hunt and Katerina Deliyiannis

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● Dillon and Rowena Bain

● Scott Walter and Peter Horvat

Page 40 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2011

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012 - Page 41

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Page 42 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012

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Victoria Pictorial

Melbourne buildings Historic Photo Collection

● Coles first store - in Smith St, Collingwood

● General Post Office, Melbourne. 1867

● Bourke Street, Melbourne. Early 1900s

● C A Blake’s cycle and motor works.

● Loudon's boot shop, Haddow's Hay and Corn Store, Queensberry St. c 1870

● Chapel St, Prahran

● Crofts self-service grocery, Coburg. 1928

● Degreaves Street, City. 1959

Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012 - Page 43

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Page 44 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012

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Places To Go

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012 - Page 45

Travellers’ Good Buys

with David Ellis

The Mekong in yesteryear style ■ We recently ran into a colleague we worked with many, many moons ago at ABC News, returning to her now-home on the Isle of Pines after a week cruising the mighty Mekong aboard the replica colonial river steamer, Indochina Pandaw.

And so intrigued were we with what our friend Hilary Roots told us, that we asked her to share with our readers she and partner Albert Thoma’s week aboard.

Here’s her account: We rode in ox carts and ‘cyclos,’ visited cat-fish farms and floating markets, sampled snake wine and exotic fruits, caught a rare, lithesome gibbon swinging from rafters above our heads, held hands with and gave school books to village children who tugged at our heart strings, all the while gently cruising down the Mekong.

No television, radio, piped music or internet, just the swirl of the mighty river, its banks sometimes close enough to touch, sometimes a kilometre apart, a 4,000 kilometre artery feeding, watering and housing millions along its route through SouthEast Asia from Tibet.

The muddy colour belies its intense richness. Every year from June to November melting Himalayan snows swell it so much that the tributary from Tonle Sap lake (Asia’s largest) halts, then goes backwards, gorged with tonnes of fresh water. Such dramatic changes bring new fish,

● Ship Indochina Pandaw on Mekong in Cambodia

Observer Wines & Liqueurs Melbourne

with David Ellis

Full flavoured, soft, comforting ■ Withsales of Merlot booming across Australia – its now our thirdmost popular red after Shiraz and Cabernet Sauvignon – there’s certainly no lack of choice on bottle-shop shelves.

And one label that’s doing particularly well, not only here but in countries as far-flung as Japan, Norway, Vietnam, Canada, Finland and Hong Kong, is Weemala from Mudgee in NSW, whose Merlot is always fullflavoured while retaining a nice varietal softness.

Their just-released 2010 is one to keep an eye on as its even richer and fuller than the 2009, a wine that’s already done exceptionally well on the show circuit. Maker Peter Logan sums-up the 2010 as having “a deep, dark side to its character while still being soft and comforting.” Nice dark chocolate, blackberry and blueberry flavours are to the fore and its one that’s not dominated by oak.

It also somewhat over-delivers at $18 and makes for a delightful winter-time companion with beef stews or oven-baked lamb chops and roast vegetables.

One For Lunch ■ Pinot Gris is Italy’s most-popular white wine being sold there as Pinot Grigio, and here local versions are enjoying an amazingly fast-growing army of Aussie fans.

Banjo’s Run in NSW’s Southern Highlands has a very moreish 2011 Pinot Gris from its cool-climate vineyard at Exeter, this one having rich pear and tropical fruit flavours and a slight citrus zest..

A luscious and full-flavoured wine with Asian seafood as a match at the table written all over it, it is available through the cellar door at $32 a bottle or $352 a case (pay for eleven, get twelve, during July) plus freight. Give proprietor Bill Hall a ring on 0408 228 724 to order of go onto www.banjosrun.com.au

Pictured ■ Try this one with oven-baked lamb chops and roast vegetables.

■ Lusciousand full-flavoured cool climate Pinot Gris to enjoy with Asian seafoods.

flood rice and corn fields with rich alluvial sands and silt Not the sort who enjoy organised tours, we’d been enticed by an article torn from a magazine a few years back and put with the proverbial ‘bucket list.’

Or was it purely the photo of the ship? A replica of wooden craft the British once used to ply the Irrawaddy in the 19th and first part of the 20th centuries.

An olde-worlde vessel, only three decks above water level, thirty passenger cabins – the whole outfitted in teak and brass.

Run by Pandaw Cruises, she was more like home from the moment we stepped aboard. Our cabin cosy, easy to live in, wood panelling, white and navy blue linen, highlighted by the finer touches of fresh flowers and silk bathrobes.

Such details were enhanced by the young crew, ever devoted to making our seven-day stay comfortable and memorable.

A mix of Cambodian, Vietnamese and Burmese, they reflected the vessel – discreet, attentive, innovative.

Refined dining of a quality and variety to match the best anywhere, whether sampling Asian dishes or enjoying those appealing to Western palates.

Intrepid excursions to explore markets and fields, temples and villages, often scrambling up the bank where the ship had drawn alongside, tying up to the nearest tree … guides brimming with history, facts and figures and their own personal accounts of growing up through recent tumultuous decades in Cambodia and Vietnam.

While Indochina Pandaw can take 60 passengers, we were only 22, coddled by 26 crew. Early June is considered the low season, the water level just starting to rise.

And it can rain every day, but we were lucky: only one afternoon did the wind whip up, the skies darken and the rain pelt down for an hour.

The rest of the week it was warm and humid. Exploring was fun, but it was always with a welcome sigh we returned to the cool and respite of the ship.

Our fellow voyagers were all widely travelled, mainly retired, but with the mental and physical verve of people interested in extending their experiences and horizons.

The canopied sun deck bar and salon, and no set-seating for dining meant we made new acquaintances, swapped many a travel tale.

All dressed simply yet correctly, with no pretentiousness. Interestingly all were Australian, except us: I’m a Kiwi, Albert is Swiss.

And the pivot point, the person who made the cruise zing, who had an eye on everything from technical details to visas, from orphan children performing a magical concert with their own hand-made costumes, to a crew/ guest farewell party the last evening, was Rosie – a Cambodian university graduate, officially the purser, but more like cruise director, confidante, coordinator for all aboard.

Her vivacity and contagious laugh make her precious to Pandaw, and will echo with us for a long time to come.

It could well be we’ll meet again on the waterway to Mandalay.

Details of Indochina Pandaw from Siem Reap to Ho Chi Minh City: www.pandaw.com - David Ellis

Page 46 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012

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Travel Extra

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Fact File

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

NAME: Currumbin Sands Apartments ADDRESS: 955 Gold Coast Hwy, Palm Beach, Qld 4221 PHONE: (07) 5525 5000 FAX: (07) 5525 5099 CONTACT: Sherryl Stack WEB: www.currumbinsands.com.au E-MAIL: info@currumbinsands.com.au grounds, the secure onsite parking underground, and to two separate swimming pool areas. The buildings are all set in tropical landscaped gardens features waterfalls and a brook.

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012 - Page 47

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Page 48 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012 - Page 49

Observer Classic Books From Page 32 was rigid; he gave orders that any one caught in the act should be shot; but rapine is tenacious.

The marauders stole in one corner of the battlefield while others were being shot in another.

The moon was sinister over this plain.

Towards midnight, a man was prowling about, or rather, climbing in the direction of the hollow road of Ohain. To all appearance he was one of those whom we have just described,— neither English nor French, neither peasant nor soldier, less a man than a ghoul attracted by the scent of the dead bodies having theft for his victory, and come to rifle Waterloo. He was clad in a blouse that was something like a great coat; he was uneasy and audacious; he walked forwards and gazed behind him. Who was this man? The night probably knew more of him than the day. He had no sack, but evidently he had large pockets under his coat. From time to time he halted, scrutinized the plain around him as though to see whether he were observed, bent over abruptly, disturbed something silent and motionless on the ground, then rose and fled. His sliding motion, his attitudes, his mysterious and rapid gestures, caused him to resemble those twilight larvae which haunt ruins, and which ancient Norman legends call the Alleurs.

Certain nocturnal wading birds produce these silhouettes among the marshes.

A glance capable of piercing all that mist deeply would have perceived at some distance a sort of little sutler’s wagon with a fluted wicker hood, harnessed to a famished nag which was cropping the grass across its bit as it halted, hidden, as it were, behind the hovel which adjoins the highway to Nivelles, at the angle of the road from Mont–Saint-Jean to Braine l’Alleud; and in the wagon, a sort of woman seated on coffers and packages. Perhaps there was some connection between that wagon and that prowler.

The darkness was serene. Not a cloud in the zenith. What matters it if the earth be red! the moon remains white; these are the indifferences of the sky. In the fields, branches of trees broken by grape-shot, but not fallen, upheld by their bark, swayed gently in the breeze of night. A breath, almost a respiration, moved the shrubbery. Quivers which resembled the departure of souls ran through the grass.

In the distance the coming and going of patrols and the general rounds of the English camp were audible.

Hougomont and La Haie–Sainte continued to burn, forming, one in the west, the other in the east, two great flames which were joined by the cordon of bivouac fires of the English, like a necklace of rubies with two carbuncles at the extremities, as they extended in an immense semicircle over the hills along the horizon.

We have described the catastrophe of the road of Ohain. The heart is terrified at the thought of what that death must have been to so many brave men.

If there is anything terrible, if there exists a reality which surpasses dreams, it is this: to live, to see the sun; to be in full possession of virile force; to possess health and joy; to laugh valiantly; to rush towards a glory which one sees dazzling in front of one; to feel in one’s breast lungs which breathe, a heart which beats, a will which reasons; to speak, think, hope, love; to have a mother, to have a wife, to have children; to have the light — and all at once, in the space of a shout, in less than a minute, to sink into an abyss; to fall, to roll, to crush, to be crushed; to see ears of wheat, flowers, leaves, branches; not to be able to catch hold of anything; to feel one’s sword useless, men beneath one, horses on top of one; to struggle in vain, since one’s bones have been broken by some kick in the darkness; to feel a heel which makes one’s eyes start from their sockets; to bite horses’ shoes in one’s rage; to stifle, to yell, to writhe; to be beneath, and to say to one’s self, “But just a little while ago I was a living man!”

There, where that lamentable disaster had uttered its death-rattle, all was silence now. The edges of the hollow road were encumbered with horses and riders, inextricably heaped up. Terrible entanglement! There was no longer any slope, for the corpses had levelled the road with the plain, and reached the brim like a well-filled bushel of barley. A heap of dead bodies in the upper part, a river of blood in the lower part — such was that road on the evening of the 18th of June, 1815. The blood ran even to the Nivelles highway, and there overflowed in a large pool in front of the abatis of trees which barred the way, at a spot which is still pointed out point, in the

Genappe road, that the destruction of the cuirassiers had taken place. The thickness of the layer of bodies was proportioned to the depth of the hollow road. Towards the middle, at the point where it became level, where Delort’s division had passed, the layer of corpses was thinner.

The nocturnal prowler whom we have just shown to the reader was going in that direction.

He was searching that vast tomb. He gazed about. He passed the dead in some sort of hideous review. He walked with his feet in the blood.

All at once he paused.

A few paces in front of him, in the hollow road, at the point where the pile of dead came to an end, an open hand, illumined by the moon, projected from beneath that heap of men. That hand had on its finger something sparkling, which was a ring of gold.

The man bent over, remained in a crouching attitude for a moment, and when he rose there was no longer a ring on the hand.

He did not precisely rise; he remained in a stooping and frightened attitude, with his back turned to the heap of dead, scanning the horizon on his knees, with the whole upper portion of his body supported on his two forefingers, which rested on the earth, and his head peering above the edge of the hollow road. The jackal’s four paws suit some actions.

Then coming to a decision, he rose to his feet.

At that moment, he gave a terrible start. He felt some one clutch him from behind.

He wheeled round; it was the open hand, which had closed, and had seized the skirt of his coat.

An honest man would have been terrified; this man burst into a laugh.

“Come,” said he, “it’s only a dead body. I prefer a spook to a gendarme.”

But the hand weakened and released him. Effort is quickly exhausted in the grave.

“Well now,” said the prowler, “is that dead fellow alive? Let’s see.”

He bent down again, fumbled among the heap, pushed aside everything that was in his way, seized the hand, grasped the arm, freed the head, pulled out the body, and a few moments later he was dragging the lifeless, or at least the unconscious, man, through the shadows of hollow road.

He was a cuirassier, an officer, and even an officer of considerable rank; a large gold epaulette peeped from beneath the cuirass; this officer no longer possessed a helmet. A furious sword-cut had scarred his face, where nothing was discernible but blood.

However, he did not appear to have any broken limbs, and, by some happy chance, if that word is permissible here, the dead had been vaulted above him in such a manner as to preserve him from being crushed. His eyes were still closed.

On his cuirass he wore the silver cross of the Legion of Honor.

The prowler tore off this cross, which disappeared into one of the gulfs which he had beneath his great coat.

Then he felt of the officer’s fob, discovered a watch there, and took possession of it. Next he searched his waistcoat, found a purse and pocketed it.

When he had arrived at this stage of succor which he was administering to this dying man, the officer opened his eyes.

“Thanks,” he said feebly.

The abruptness of the movements of the man who was manipulating him, the freshness of the night, the air which he could inhale freely, had roused him from his lethargy.

The prowler made no reply. He raised his head.

A sound of footsteps was audible in the plain; some patrol was probably approaching.

The officer murmured, for the death agony was still in his voice:— “Who won the battle?”

“The English,” answered the prowler.

The officer went on:— “Look in my pockets; you will find a watch and a purse. Take them.”

It was already done.

The prowler executed the required feint, and said:— “There is nothing there.”

“I have been robbed,” said the officer; “I am sorry for that. You should have had them.”

The steps of the patrol became more and more distinct.

“Some one is coming,” said the prowler, with the movement of a man who is taking his departure.

The officer raised his arm feebly, and detained him.

“You have saved my life. Who are you?”

The prowler answered rapidly, and in a low voice:— “Like yourself, I belonged to the French army. I must leave you. If they were to catch me, they would shoot me. I have saved your life. Now get out of the scrape yourself.”

“What is your rank?”

“Sergeant.”

“What is your name?”

“Thenardier.”

“I shall not forget that name,” said the officer; “and do you remember mine. My name is Pontmercy.”

VOLEME ii. BOOK SECOND THE SHIP ORION CHAPTER i NUMBER 24,601 BECOMES NUMBER 9,430 Jean Valjean had been recaptured.

The reader will be grateful to us if we pass rapidly over the sad details. We will confine ourselves to transcribing two paragraphs published by the journals of that day, a few months after the surprising events which had taken place at M. sur M. These articles are rather summary. It must be remembered, that at that epoch the Gazette des Tribunaux was not yet in existence.

We borrow the first from the Drapeau Blanc. It bears the date of July 25, 1823.

An arrondissement of the Pas de Calais has just been the theatre of an event quite out of the ordinary course. A man, who was a stranger in the Department, and who bore the name of M. Madeleine, had, thanks to the new methods, resuscitated some years ago an ancient local industry, the manufacture of jet and of black glass trinkets. He had made his fortune in the business, and that of the arrondissement as well, we will admit. He had been appointed mayor, in recognition of his services. The police discovered that M. Madeleine was no other than an ex-convict who had broken his ban, condemned in 1796 for theft, and named Jean Valjean. Jean Valjean has been recommitted to prison. It appears that previous to his arrest he had succeeded in withdrawing from the hands of M. Laffitte, a sum of over half a million which he had lodged there, and which he had, moreover, and by perfectly legitimate means, acquired in his business. No one has been able to discover where Jean Valjean has concealed this money since his return to prison at Toulon.

The second article, which enters a little more into detail, is an extract from the Journal de Paris, of the same date. A former convict, who had been liberated, named Jean Valjean, has just appeared before the Court of Assizes of the Var, under circumstances calculated to attract attention. This wretch had succeeded in escaping the vigilance of the police, he had changed his name, and had succeeded in getting himself appointed mayor of one of our small northern towns; in this town he had established a considerable commerce. He has at last been unmasked and arrested, thanks to the indefatigable zeal of the public prosecutor. He had for his concubine a woman of the town, who died of a shock at the moment of his arrest. This scoundrel, who is endowed with Herculean strength, found means to escape; but three or four days after his flight the police laid their hands on him once more, in Paris itself, at the very moment when he was entering one of those little vehicles which run between the capital and the village of Montfermeil (Seine-et-Oise). He is said to have profited by this interval of three or four days of liberty, to withdraw a considerable sum deposited by him with one of our leading bankers.

This sum has been estimated at six or seven hundred thousand francs. If the indictment is to be trusted, he has hidden it in some place known to himself alone, and it has not been possible to lay hands on it. However that may be, the said Jean Valjean has just been brought before the Assizes of the Department of the Var as accused of highway robbery accompanied with violence, about eight years ago, on the person of one of those honest children who, as the patriarch of Ferney has said, in immortal verse, “ . . . Arrive from Savoy every year, And who, with gentle hands, do clear Those long canals choked up with soot.”

This bandit refused to defend himself. It was proved by the skilful and eloquent representative of the public prosecutor, that the theft was committed in complicity with others, and that Jean Valjean was a member of a band of rob-

bers in the south. Jean Valjean was pronounced guilty and was condemned to the death penalty in consequence. This criminal refused to lodge an appeal. The king, in his inexhaustible clemency, has deigned to commute his penalty to that of penal servitude for life. Jean Valjean was immediately taken to the prison at Toulon.

The reader has not forgotten that Jean Valjean had religious habits at M. sur M. Some papers, among others the Constitutional, presented this commutation as a triumph of the priestly party.

Jean Valjean changed his number in the galleys. He was called 9,430.

However, and we will mention it at once in order that we may not be obliged to recur to the subject, the prosperity of M. sur M. vanished with M. Madeleine; all that he had foreseen during his night of fever and hesitation was realized; lacking him, there actually was a soul lacking. After this fall, there took place at M. sur M. that egotistical division of great existences which have fallen, that fatal dismemberment of flourishing things which is accomplished every day, obscurely, in the human community, and which history has noted only once, because it occurred after the death of Alexander. Lieutenants are crowned kings; superintendents improvise manufacturers out of themselves. Envious rivalries arose. M. Madeleine’s vast workshops were shut; his buildings fell to ruin, his workmen were scattered. Some of them quitted the country, others abandoned the trade. Thenceforth, everything was done on a small scale, instead of on a grand scale; for lucre instead of the general good.

There was no longer a centre; everywhere there was competition and animosity. M. Madeleine had reigned over all and directed all. No sooner had he fallen, than each pulled things to himself; the spirit of combat succeeded to the spirit of organization, bitterness to cordiality, hatred of one another to the benevolence of the founder towards all; the threads which M. Madeleine had set were tangled and broken, the methods were adulterated, the products were debased, confidence was killed; the market diminished, for lack of orders; salaries were reduced, the workshops stood still, bankruptcy arrived. And then there was nothing more for the poor. All had vanished.

The state itself perceived that some one had been crushed somewhere. Less than four years after the judgment of the Court of Assizes establishing the identity of Jean Valjean and M. Madeleine, for the benefit of the galleys, the cost of collecting taxes had doubled in the arrondissement of M. sur M.; and M. de Villele called attention to the fact in the rostrum, in the month of February, 1827.

CHAPTER ii IN WHICH THE READER WILL PERUSE TWO VERSES, WHICH ARE OF THE DEVIL’S COMPOSITION, POSSIBLY

Before proceeding further, it will be to the purpose to narrate in some detail, a singular occurrence which took place at about the same epoch, in Montfermeil, and which is not lacking in coincidence with certain conjectures of the indictment.

There exists in the region of Montfermeil a very ancient superstition, which is all the more curious and all the more precious, because a popular superstition in the vicinity of Paris is like an aloe in Siberia. We are among those who respect everything which is in the nature of a rare plant. Here, then, is the superstition of Montfermeil: it is thought that the devil, from time immemorial, has selected the forest as a hiding-place for his treasures. Goodwives affirm that it is no rarity to encounter at nightfall, in secluded nooks of the forest, a black man with the air of a carter or a wood-chopper, wearing wooden shoes, clad in trousers and a blouse of linen, and recognizable by the fact, that, instead of a cap or hat, he has two immense horns on his head. This ought, in fact, to render him recognizable. This man is habitually engaged in digging a hole. There are three ways of profiting by such an encounter. The first is to approach the man and speak to him. Then it is seen that the man is simply a peasant, that he appears black because it is nightfall; that he is not digging any hole whatever, but is cutting grass for his cows, and that what had been taken for horns is nothing but a dung-fork which he is carrying on his back, and whose teeth, thanks to the perspective of evening, seemed to spring from his head. The man returns home and dies within the - Continued on Page 50

Page 50 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 31, 2012

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Observer Classic Books

From Page 49 week. The second way is to watch him, to wait until he has dug his hole, until he has filled it and has gone away; then to run with great speed to the trench, to open it once more and to seize the “treasure” which the black man has necessarily placed there. In this case one dies within the month. Finally, the last method is not to speak to the black man, not to look at him, and to flee at the best speed of one’s legs. One then dies within the year.

As all three methods are attended with their special inconveniences, the second, which at all events, presents some advantages, among others that of possessing a treasure, if only for a month, is the one most generally adopted. So bold men, who are tempted by every chance, have quite frequently, as we are assured, opened the holes excavated by the black man, and tried to rob the devil. The success of the operation appears to be but moderate. At least, if the tradition is to be believed, and in particular the two enigmatical lines in barbarous Latin, which an evil Norman monk, a bit of a sorcerer, named Tryphon has left on this subject. This Tryphon is buried at the Abbey of Saint–Georges de Bocherville, near Rouen, and toads spawn on his grave.

Accordingly, enormous efforts are made. Such trenches are ordinarily extremely deep; a man sweats, digs, toils all night — for it must be done at night; he wets his shirt, burns out his candle, breaks his mattock, and when he arrives at the bottom of the hole, when he lays his hand on the “treasure,” what does he find? What is the devil’s treasure? A sou, sometimes a crown-piece, a stone, a skeleton, a bleeding body, sometimes a spectre folded in four like a sheet of paper in a portfolio, sometimes nothing. This is what Tryphon’s verses seem to announce to the indiscreet and curious:— “Fodit, et in fossa thesauros condit opaca, As, nummas, lapides, cadaver, simulacra, nihilque.”

It seems that in our day there is sometimes found a powder-horn with bullets, sometimes an old pack of cards greasy and worn, which has evidently served the devil. Tryphon does not record these two finds, since Tryphon lived in the twelfth century, and since the devil does not appear to have had the wit to invent powder

before Roger Bacon’s time, and cards before the time of Charles VI.

CHAPTER iii THE ANKLE-CHAIN MUST HAVE UNDERGONE A CERTAIN PREPARATORY MANIPULATION TO BE THUS BROKEN WITH A BLOW FROM A HAMMER Towards the end of October, in that same year, 1823, the inhabitants of Toulon beheld the entry into their port, after heavy weather, and for the purpose of repairing some damages, of the ship Orion, which was employed later at Brest as a school-ship, and which then formed a part of the Mediterranean squadron.

This vessel, battered as it was,— for the sea had handled it roughly,— produced a fine effect as it entered the roads. It flew some colors which procured for it the regulation salute of eleven guns, which it returned, shot for shot; total, twenty-two. It has been calculated that what with salvos, royal and military politenesses, courteous exchanges of uproar, signals of etiquette, formalities of roadsteads and citadels, sunrises and sunsets, saluted every day by all fortresses and all ships of war, openings and closings of ports, etc., the civilized world, discharged all over the earth, in the course of four and twenty hours, one hundred and fifty thousand useless shots. At six francs the shot, that comes to nine hundred thousand francs a day, three hundred millions a year, which vanish in smoke. This is a mere detail. All this time the poor were dying of hunger.

The year 1823 was what the Restoration called “the epoch of the Spanish war.”

This war contained many events in one, and a quantity of peculiarities. A grand family affair for the house of Bourbon; the branch of France succoring and protecting the branch of Madrid, that is to say, performing an act devolving on the elder; an apparent return to our national traditions, complicated by servitude and by subjection to the cabinets of the North; M. le Duc d’Angouleme, surnamed by the liberal sheets the hero of Andujar, compressing in a triumphal attitude that was somewhat contradicted by his peaceable air, the ancient and very powerful terrorism of the Holy Office at variance with the chimerical terrorism of the liberals; the

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Ted Ryan Phone 9876 1652 Mobile: 0412 682 927 E-Mail: tedryan@australiaonline.net.au ted.ryan@optusnet.com.au

sansculottes resuscitated, to the great terror of dowagers, under the name of descamisados; monarchy opposing an obstacle to progress described as anarchy; the theories of ‘89 roughly interrupted in the sap; a European halt, called to the French idea, which was making the tour of the world; beside the son of France as generalissimo, the Prince de Carignan, afterwards Charles Albert, enrolling himself in that crusade of kings against people as a volunteer, with grenadier epaulets of red worsted; the soldiers of the Empire setting out on a fresh campaign, but aged, saddened, after eight years of repose, and under the white cockade; the tricolored standard waved abroad by a heroic handful of Frenchmen, as the white standard had been thirty years earlier at Coblentz; monks mingled with our troops; the spirit of liberty and of novelty brought to its senses by bayonets; principles slaughtered by cannonades; France undoing by her arms that which she had done by her mind; in addition to this, hostile leaders sold, soldiers hesitating, cities besieged by millions; no military perils, and yet possible explosions, as in every mine which is surprised and invaded; but little bloodshed, little honor won, shame for some, glory for no one. Such was this war, made by the princes descended from Louis XIV., and conducted by generals who had been under Napoleon. Its sad fate was to recall neither the grand war nor grand politics.

Some feats of arms were serious; the taking of the Trocadero, among others, was a fine military action; but after all, we repeat, the trumpets of this war give back a cracked sound, the whole effect was suspicious; history approves of France for making a difficulty about accepting this false triumph. It seemed evident that certain Spanish officers charged with resistance yielded too easily; the idea of corruption was connected with the victory; it appears as though generals and not battles had been won, and the conquering soldier returned humiliated. A debasing war, in short, in which the Bank of France could be read in the folds of the flag.

Soldiers of the war of 1808, on whom Saragossa had fallen in formidable ruin, frowned in 1823 at the easy surrender of citadels, and began to regret Palafox. It is the nature of France to prefer to have Rostopchine rather than Ballesteros in front of her.

From a still more serious point of view, and one

which it is also proper to insist upon here, this war, which wounded the military spirit of France, enraged the democratic spirit. It was an enterprise of inthralment. In that campaign, the object of the French soldier, the son of democracy, was the conquest of a yoke for others. A hideous contradiction. France is made to arouse the soul of nations, not to stifle it. All the revolutions of Europe since 1792 are the French Revolution: liberty darts rays from France. That is a solar fact. Blind is he who will not see! It was Bonaparte who said it.

The war of 1823, an outrage on the generous Spanish nation, was then, at the same time, an outrage on the French Revolution. It was France who committed this monstrous violence; by foul means, for, with the exception of wars of liberation, everything that armies do is by foul means.

The words passive obedience indicate this. An army is a strange masterpiece of combination where force results from an enormous sum of impotence. Thus is war, made by humanity against humanity, despite humanity, explained.

As for the Bourbons, the war of 1823 was fatal to them. They took it for a success. They did not perceive the danger that lies in having an idea slain to order. They went astray, in their innocence, to such a degree that they introduced the immense enfeeblement of a crime into their establishment as an element of strength. The spirit of the ambush entered into their politics.

1830 had its germ in 1823. The Spanish campaign became in their counsels an argument for force and for adventures by right Divine. France, having re-established elrey netto in Spain, might well have re-established the absolute king at home. They fell into the alarming error of taking the obedience of the soldier for the consent of the nation. Such confidence is the ruin of thrones. It is not permitted to fall asleep, either in the shadow of a machineel tree, nor in the shadow of an army.

Let us return to the ship Orion.

During the operations of the army commanded by the prince generalissimo, a squadron had been cruising in the Mediterranean. We have just stated that the Orion belonged to this fleet, and that accidents of the sea had brought it into port at Toulon.

The presence of a vessel of war in a port has something about it which attracts and engages a crowd. It is because it is great, and the crowd loves what is great.

A ship of the line is one of the most magnificent combinations of the genius of man with the powers of nature. ● To Be Continued Next Week

Observer Crossword Solution No 18 S N OW S T V A N U E MA GONDO L P D AM P A P A S S L A Y S V MA Y C L I MA X L R E H E X I S T S D O E S N A R E S D E P L E A MMO N I E B R AMB L O R A B S AME O EMBO MOD E U V N R MA I D P N E V A I I M I L D I A N CO Y N E S P I S T UN M S OV A E N OME N S E B E ME A N E R S D A E R E S U L T I E S A L E E K S D A S H A R A S H P L A N T E R G OM E I I

ORM A R OUC GMA T A N E I N S YO HORN O I T UR E S T SO F I T F N MA OG L E I N F A T A A B BON A Z I F S L E A E I R O T H E B Y E S S Y E P L A R E R V E X D A S N A T T RO T S B Y C I MP A R T I L R E S A S A T R I S YO YO R N A NC E P H P E C A P E D R B D E B T E S L E R ME E EGA T C T H E

C A C I A O B A DD I E H H I MCCO Y O MA N Y A I CH I T PO L Y P S M L A D A A P E T ON K E D S A ND S H E L E N P A R T N E R S H I P R A S POS E O I A N EW P C M I D T E RM E MA D P H I A E S P E S T E R ROS E T T E W A NN E R M R A B B L E O MY S T I C I SM A L I O B I N O B R A F T NN E DWE L T I RON C E I D L E N A S T ON I S H C O E T A A M S I V E SOU T MA NH A T T A N R K HO I D N O E R M I D I A L A N A NGS OP E N COB L AMB U S M AGR A L A S T S I A I T O L D E R UN T I L N BOA OA R R TW T R A MA D AM A V A I L I L A S S GAO L C E C A L M P E A F L A T S K S S EM I I F F Y S U S A F N RON I F T N U L S I V E S E CR E T I NG A T DD T E M L A P R A Y S A GRUMP I E R I E S MAMBO T E A T O E I U S A U T Y PO R DOGCO L L A R I R S S S E R N UNHO L Y P H A S I NG I K R I S H S N ME AGR E D A R T I S T E B A DD S E E N H O N A I L W A S S I M I L A T E D MA L A S T N AME D R E F E R T U C P O A E ND S OMA T O U PO T E N T P N R ME R I T E COS A

A Y E E A R UN P H E I A V A A L Y H C T A R P A U L I N R N V E N D E T T A U

S T A C K S A O M L S S U A T CH E T D E R L S OA K S TW I S T R A R U UNC L A D S T I I T R I F L E U T S EMB E R A R D MA T A A E S U P T O N N O D A Y T I ME L N V L A L T O E T I N A K O TWE E NG O S E N A P S E T S I N I H ODD S E E S CROS S L Y H P E A N R E A L R E L Y R T O M N A V E L P Z G N MA N AGE E E L P T N E P H EW ND A O O S A N E R A N E C K B BO T H A L B I NOS R E E O A N S D W