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Falling...

 


How do you persuade visitors to come and stay in your hotel?

Well, here was a tourist gimmick – a truly extraordinary stunt – that got people on board, so to speak. And it worked, in a way.

In fact, not a single person ended up on this fated boat, the real crew having jumped ship at the last moment, leaving pretend people from old stories.

Oh yes, and a motley un-consenting cargo of captured creatures.

Let me tell you more…

 

 

Niagara Falls, 3.00 p.m., 8th September, 1827

 

The bears swam ashore before the ship hit the Falls

so they were alright.  I'm told the dog did the same

and the geese – at least, two of them survived the drop

as did the cat. The foxes I'm not sure about

while nobody speaks of the racoon.

 

As for the buffalo – well, he was penned

and crushed by a falling mast.  Perhaps

that instant death was best, being spared

from the heart-stopping fall, though exposed to the din

and the terror of those still on board

 

except for the dummies, an effigy crew –

Adams and Jackson, the piratical Blue Beard,

Natty Ewart, with Beverley up in the fore top

whose job was to look out for breakers

while everyone cheered as the schooner was smashed.

 

William Forsyth of the Pavilion Hotel

along with his colleagues and fellow hoteliers

were delighted to see some twenty thousand

come to watch this scene of destruction

and death, from their various viewpoints

 

safe and secure, in steamers and carriages –

a sight that was truly sublime, said the paper,

The Herald of Cleveland, the day passing off

with great satisfaction.  Then unharmed and dry

the crowd dispersed for rest and refreshment.

 


What took place on that September day nearly two hundred years ago demonstrates the strange ways in which mankind takes its pleasure and finds entertainment.

I’m not sure anything more needs to be said.




Comments

  1. Thank you Richard , i very much look forward to your monthly entertainment . I find it fascinating that for some time after reading them , i sit and reflect .

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