The Weekly Machen
More of a prose-poem than a newspaper article, Arthur Machen vividly paints a picture in a seemingly effortless style. In the following dispatch, a discerning reader may imagine the swirls of color and the sweet sound of music on an summer night of long ago. Without a particular narrative, our reporter concentrates on atmosphere rather than offering a dry recitation and lends a richness which spans the many years.
Festival of the River
Fairy Lamps and Music in the Shining Night
by
Arthur Machen
July 4, 1913
There was a punt moving slowly up the river. In the middle of it was a board covered with queer gay objects of all colours, dolls and cats and bears and rabbits in blue and green and yellow. I believe these things were mascots, as talismans are now called. They are becoming more and more important; a firm supplying motor necessaries mentions mascots in its list of the articles without which it is impossible to motor; and mascots were freely used in recent golf competitions.
Another punt swims along; this is laden with pink flowers. A third holds a gentleman inconsistency vested. He wears a scarlet mortar-board with white evening dress, and he plucks the banjo strings and chants a frantic song. I was sorry to see that his face was not blacked, for his dialect was the purest Ethiopian.
It was in the evening at Henley. The pleasant old town had its regatta fury upon it. Up and down its ancient and comely streets the motors tore and hooted as they went, and when I came to the bridge the boats and punts were scattering after a race, and the first lanterns were being lit.
Mingled Hues
The centre of the river is marked by a long line of boats at rest; a white line chiefly, for most of the pretty girls who are enjoying themselves so that it is a pleasure to see them are in white or in cream, and the men with them wear flannels. But here and there the line is lit up by a brilliant splash of colour; a tawny cushion in a punt, a girl in a knitted coat; scarlet, emerald green, sky blue, cherry colour or orange. A few more lamps glimmer out; the course is cleared for the last race of the day; Marlow and Caius dead-heated earlier in the day, and are to re-row. Down the river, beyond the bend where the classic temple stands in a green grove by the water’s brink, the gun goes off and reverberates in the still evening. Presently a noise of cheering sounds along the banks swells as the crews draw nearer, rages in a confused tempest as they go by. They are even; but just beyond Phyllis Court Marlow spurts and draws ahead and wins “by a short quarter,” as one man says, “by a good quarter,” as another will have it.
And the long line of white in the centre breaks up. The boats scatter up and down the river, the paddles dip in and out, the punt poles flicker in the air, the orange-tawny cushion, the emerald green coat, and the scarlet blazer meet for a moment and separate; and slowly, faintly, the dim soft veil of the summer night falls on the river and on the weeping willows that droop over it.
Ragtime Verses
The “fairy lamps” are now aglow on the old bridge, and the Chinese lanterns are festooned above it in magic luminous colour. There are lanterns hanging, too, by the drooping willows, far away down the river by the houseboats, by still dewy lawns, where the bats are flitting swiftly in the gathering darkness. Here and there on these lawns people are lounging at their ease in wicker chairs, drinking their after-dinner coffee; here a lad in a crimson blazer is swinging a girl in a hammock to and fro; a boat hails another across the water and a meeting is appointed for half-past nine. More and more lamps and lanterns twinkle and glow and stain the surface of the water; across the warm, still air comes a sudden swell of music from the band on the barge moored by Phyllis Court.
As if in response, the punt next to mine breaks into choral melody. It is a punt gay with drapery of blue and white and holds three men and two ladies who wear black masks and call themselves “The O! B’s.” They sing songs and play the piano and play the violin, and people come out on their lawns and dance to the music, and one by one boats gather about us, and the girls and men lounge on their seats and smoke their cigarettes and their pipes and listen to the songs. The “O! B’s” sing sentimental ballads: “As once in May” and “Geneviève, oh, Geneviève,” and they sing ragtime verses concerning the Mississippi, and the boats gather still about them. Another boatload of minstrels swims past; this decked with pink flags and hung with pink lanterns; this also resonant with song.
And so the festival of the river burns with lamps and rings with melody as the night goes on. And the pretty girls continue to enjoy themselves immensely, and their laughter thrilling across the water is perhaps the best music of this festal and shining night.
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I love these vignettes of the English countryside…seems what life should be about. 🙂
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Many thanks – this is indeed atmospheric!
Wikipedia helps fill in the background with various degrees of detail with “Marlow Rowing Club”, “Caius Boat Club”, and “Henley Royal Regatta” – the last-named with a Wikimedia Commons link with a couple striking old photos: ‘Punts at Henley between races 1914’ and ‘Great Britain Before the First World War’, the latter with a punt with an upright piano with pianist and singers in 18th-century costumes, and festooned with many a Chinese lantern!
Sadly, I have found nothing about “The O! B’s”, so far, but YouTube has a 1914 recording of Louise Kirby Lunn singing Eduard Lassen’s “As once in May” and assorted recordings of Henry Tucker and George Cooper’s “Geneviève, oh, Geneviève” including a 1913 one by John McCormick.
When “The O! B’s” “sing ragtime verses concerning the Mississippi”, this is surely the dialect song version of William Henry Krell’s “The Mississippi Rag” as “On the Mississippi”, and presumably the comic duet version of which the YouTube channel EMGColonel has ‘“On the Mississippi” Ragtime Song Sung by Norris Smith & Walter Dixon The Winner 2484’ – where the introduction tells us they were an American duo who came to the UK in 1912 and made a few records for the Winner label! Most of the Wikipedia article, “William Krell”, is in fact devoted to this piece, though it includes a sheet-music cover photo of another ragtime song which is very much in keeping with Machen saying of the other singing gentleman “I was sorry to see that his face was not blacked, for his dialect was the purest Ethiopian.”
His attention to vividly colored coats and blazers invites comparison with Bylaw 1 of the Marlow Rowing Club rules as quoted in its Wikipedia article, beginning “It shall be compulsory for Members rowing in Regattas or Matches to wear the Club uniform as follows – Jacket: Dark Blue, Swan worked in Cardinal on breast pocket”.
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