The Chronicles of a Gay GordonGordon, J. M. (Joseph Maria)
History
The Chronicles of a Gay Gordon
Gordon, J. M. (Joseph Maria)
Generals -- England -- Biography; Gordon, J. M. (Joseph Maria), 1856-1929
One of the most thrilling experiences I have ever had occurred while I
made the attempt to climb the peak of that lofty mountain, Mount Cook.
The time of the year was not the best to venture on such an expedition.
On both occasions, when we tackled the venture, ill-luck befell us. Our
first attempt was foiled by fogs, which, when driven away by a fierce,
bitterly cold gale, that seemed to blow from any and every point of the
compass at the same time, were succeeded by sleet and hailstorms that
forced us to give up the fight and return home sadder but wiser men. The
second time of asking, after a splendid start, once again the Fates were
against us, and a heavy fall of snow, which lasted three days, put an end
to our ambitious undertaking.
Then my round of visits came to an end, and I took my passage to
Melbourne, sorry to leave so many friends, and little thinking that, in
after years, I would again see them and enjoy their hospitality in those
beautiful southern islands.
CHAPTER XIV
I BECOME A NEWSPAPER PROPRIETOR
On arrival in Melbourne I took up my quarters in the old White Hart Hotel
at the corner of Bourke Street and Spring Gardens, at that time one of
the most comfortable hotels in Melbourne. Situated as it is just opposite
the present Federal Houses of Parliament, it is well known indeed by many
members both of the House of Representatives and the Senate. The topic of
the day was the opening of the Exhibition, and the official
representatives of the foreign nations who were taking part had by this
time arrived in Melbourne. The representative of the German Empire was in
residence, amongst others, at the White Hart Hotel.
I must tell you of a little incident which should have finished in
someone's death, but did not. The German Commissioner's private secretary
had just been long enough in Melbourne to fall in love with the daughter
of a well-known tradesman. She was certainly a strikingly handsome girl,
and her charms had completely roped in the affections of that gentleman.
This girl, then about eighteen years of age, was engaged, or going to be
engaged, to be married to a local man. The private secretary was so
persistent in his attentions and admiration that he roused the devil in
the heart of her fiance, who challenged the private secretary to a mortal
duel. It was to be a fight to the death, so he stated in the challenge,
which arrived at our hotel at about 10 P.M. on a Tuesday evening, just as
we were sitting down to a game of whist. The private secretary solemnly
handed the written challenge to his chief. The Commissioner read it, then
said: "Write a note in answer stating that our under-secretary will
represent you, and meet at once a representative of your opponent here at
the hotel, with the view of arranging a meeting between you at five
o'clock to-morrow morning." It was summer time. "Would you prefer swords
or pistols?"
"Swords," said the private secretary.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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