A LADY'S LETTER FROM LONDON.

Auckland Star, Volume XX, Issue 267, 9 November 1889, Page 12 (Supplement)

A LADY'S LETTER FROM LONDON.

[By Elise.]

London, September 27tb. Dear Mb Editor,—The first week of tha* blighting blast of autumn, tho east wind, has, besides exacerbating my temper and causing cruel desquamation to incarnadine a possibly unduly prominent olfactory organ, swept away three valuable live 3, viz., Lady Holland's, Mr Wilkie Collins', and Mr Henry Brougham Farnie's.

Lady Holland was seven-seventy years of age, and had long ceased to take an active part in society, though till Saturday last she enjoyed excellent health. By her death that historic pile, Holland House— for nearly two centuries and a-half the haunt of the elite of statesmen, philosophers, poets, and humorists—loses one of its most . famous chaicdaine.it. The daughter of tho eighth Earl of Coventry, the deceased lady, married the lourth Lord Holland in 1833, and in a few years her salon at Holland House became the despair and envy of other hostesses and the talk of Europe. "It was, :> says a contemporary biographer, "to the mental gifts, personal influence, and fracb of Lady Holland that these famous reunions owed that fascination which may fairly be said co have rendered them a focua for almoßt all that -was best and noblest in the rank and culture of Europe. But; charming as was the magic of her presence, the mistress ot Holland House inspired no small amount of awe. In the words of the Princess Liechtenstein, "Beautiful, clever, and well-informed, she exercised a natural authority over those around her. But a habit of contradiction—which, it is only fair to add, she did not mind being reciprocated upon herself—occasionally lent animation, nob to say animosity, to the arguments in which she engaged. It is easy for Borne natures to say a disagreeable thing, but it is not always easy to carry a disagreeable thing off cleverly. This Lndy Holland could do." Tjho lady who penned these lines was, it may be remembered, Lady Holland's adopted daughter, whoso marriage with Prince Aloys Liechtenstein, at the Pro - Cathedral in Kensington, is referred to in tho course of Count liourb's Memoirs as an " extraordinary ceremony." Extraordinary no doubt in the eyes of the Ambassador, because it was witnessed by tho Prince and Prince&s of Wales, and thus represented the first occasion since the days of James 11. on which an English prince had attended Mass. "Lord Granville," ho writes, " said to me when the ceremony was over, ' I had my eyes on you to sea how a good Protestant shou d behave.' Unusual and remarkable as the event was, it was not noticed in the newspapers. Mr Gladstone, who was not present, said to me, when I expressed my surprise at his absence, 'If I had come you may be- sure there would have been an outcry.'" Holland House now passes into the possession of Lord Ilchester. Death of Wilkie Collins. Wilkie Collins was getting a little better till the east wind came, when ho caught a cold, and having no strength lefb wherewith to combat it, sank rapidly. - The popular novelist had not a blood relation in the world, and the sole attendants at bia deathbed were his lifelong friend, Dr. CarrBeard, and his faithful old housekeeper. It is understood ho loaves about £10,000, and that Dr. Carr-Beard, and not Mr Hall Came (as stated some time back), has been appointed literary executor. For many ye,ars ) Wilkip i Collins took large quantities of. opium,' and this habit had, no doubt, much to do with the premature break -up of : a naturally-1 strong constitution. He succumbed to the pernicious influence of tho ilrug soon after writing " Poor Miss Finch," and from that time his hand seemed to Jose its cunning-. Not thai he weakened all at once. "Man and Wife" (for example) comparo3 indifferently with "The Woman in White," bub it is miles in front of such morbid rubbish as "The Evil Genius "or Blind Love."

To posterity Wilkie Collins will probably be known only as the author of the three famous novels usually associated with hia name. The " Times," Vf pee, pronounces " The Moonstone " the deceased's masterpiece, remarking that tho last chapters of that famous story "will remain so lone; as sensational novels are read as a model of all thahismosb sensational, inOv=«b thrilling, and most ingeniously probable in the midst of improbability." Matthew Arnold, curiously enough, thought "The New Magdalen" Wilkie Collins' best work, and it certainly did work up into a capital play. Bub the story has not the go and elasticity oi his earlier novels. Moke About Amy Lew. Poor little Miss Amy Le?y left behind a special request that her remains might be cremated, and though tho Jews are by no means partial to the process of incineration, her family repentantly complied with her wishes. It does not seem to be true that the Door girl was in any way ill-treated by her "relations. Sho was very impulsive, desperately self-willed, and yet intensely sensitive. Her Jewish friends say they ■were powerless to sympathise with her. It seemed to them horrible that this young girl should have used her' clever pen to caricature her nearest and dearest, and to bold up her religion and the habits of the chosen people to contumely. The family ■were grieved, Jiurb, and, of course, not a little ausry. Miss Levy warmly resented their disapprobation, and went to live with Gentile friends. Subsequently, however, she returned home, and, but for an unfortunate love affair would, her family

believe, have Becpme-'peffebtly Happy "again:. The conduct of the fiance in throwing over Miss Levy because of " Reuben Sachs " naturally, the Jews say, sounds very bad to us,"" Jt eeotjtjed to him siojply an inevitable duty. Mr Henry Brougham Farnie, the dramatic author who succumbed to the east wind on Tuesday, was better known in London ten years ago than now. He supplied librettos for various comic operas, wrote several successful burlesques, notably, "Nemesis" and "Eldorado," and was supposed to be./acile princ&ps as a stage manager of such pieces. He leased the Avenue Theatre for some seasons. ' The Weldok Case. South Kensington is all agog over what has already come to be known as the "Weldon Case." Mr and Mrs Ernest Weldon were a wealthy couple residing in Gloucester Mansions, S. W. Mrs Weldon is 38 years of age, and Mr Weldon, who was only 32, was her third husband. She is a very .large, massive woman, whereas Weldon was a little shrimp of a man, and from the time y Mrs Weldon married him (three years ago) it is alleged that she completely" dominated him. Be this aB it may, he certainly complained to his brothers of ill-treatment, and on one occasion recently, displayed bruises which he declared were caused by his wife's fists. Last year the pair quarrelled and separated, but were reconciled at Christmas, and spent this summer at Boulogne. EarJy in September Mr Weldon fell ill. and his wife,_ distrusting French medicos, brought him home. He died two daya later, and Dr. Farr, of South Kensington, certified the cause of death to be Bright's disease (the symptoms of which are.moch the same as those of arsenic poisoning) aggravated by dipsomania. The funeral took place hurriedly (and without ceremony ib is alleged), and altogether • the circumstances were so peculiar that one of Mr Weldon'a brothers consulted the Home Secretary,who ordered $be body to bo exhumed. Th,is vas done

and a posb-mortem held, tho result of will be made known in a day or two. Meanwhile, Mrs Weldon's movements are supervised. On all hands ifc is admitted the deceased was a confirmed dipsomaniac, and that Mrs Wcldon had great trouble with him. He was locked up at Lewes once for 14 days in delirium tremens, aad nned at Wandsworth Police Court early this year for drunkenness. Coming Novelties. Mr Rutland Barrington having dissipated, in the course of a few -weeks' management at the St. James's Theatre, the hard-earned savings of ten years, returns to the Savoy for Gilbert and Sullivan's new opera. George Grossmith it is highly improbable will ever act in a company again. His entertainment has, so far, proved a perfect arold mine. The little man writes from Southsea that his share of the profits up to now averages within a few pounds of £320 a-week. and that he is pestered to death by enterprising impresarios wanting him to " try America and the colonies." At present George has no intention of trying either, but, as the villain in the play says, "a time may come."

Great curiosity is naturally felt with regard to the revival of "Caste" at the Criterion next week. Leonard Boyne plays D'Alroy ; a young actor, fresh from the provinces, Hawtreo; and David James, Eccles. Lackadaisical Miss Olgra Brandon should bo quite at home aa Esther, and Lottie Verne is, perhaps, the one contemporary actress capable of doing justice to the mercurial Polly. The comedy has been most carefully rehearsed,and will be staged rather more smartly than heretofore.

The rumour that Mrs Bancroft meditates returning to tho stage is quite untrue, I'm sure. The erstwhile petite Marie Wilton has grown so pondorously stoub that it would only be potsible to fit her with most unromantic roles. Even on the lecture platform hor podgy figure shows to terrible disadvantage.

The Gaiety Company Welcomed Home'

There was a great scene at the Gaiety Theatre on Saturday evening, when Nellie Farren, Frei. Leslie, Marion ■ Hood and Co. re-appeared on the familiar boards, after eighteen months' absence in Australia and thoUnited States. No one seemed to care much about th« new piece. It was the "welcome home" we all wished to assist ah And rohat a welcome ib was 1 When the irrepressible Nellie, frisky, buoyant, and debonnaire as ever, "skipped blithely on to the stage, the smart house literal!}' ro*e at her. The gallery (crammed almost entirely with medical students) hung out a huge streamer on which was inscribed "The Boys welcome their Nellie." Tho pit cheered and waved handkerchiefs and the stalls clapped like lunatics. Later Fred. Leslie had an equally hearty reception, the audience rising and singing " For He's a Jolly Good Fellow " much as if ib were "God Save the Queen."

Six weeks hence fche new burlesque " Ruy Bla3 " will no doubt have worked up into a conventional Gaiety success. At present it is much too long. When Fred Leslie and Nellie Farren are together all goes well, but while they're resting one is apt to get bored. Letty Lind I thought scarcely danced as gracefully ab before she went on tour, and Marion Hood's voice seemed a trifle husky. But the entire company, of course, were nervous, and will do better presently. Horace Lingard's new venture with OHonbach's "Brigands" at the Avenuo has not, so far, "caught on." Why the work was selected no one seems to know, as it was never, even in the old days at the Globe Theatre, a popular suceees. Some New Songs. I don't seem to have heard of many new songa lately/ One is pestered to death with the nauseously glucous "For You" and "Love's Golden Dream," At the promenaidev concerts Mikita makes a' fairish hit with "Sweetheart," which is written to the tune of the "Ma Chere" waltz, but Madame Antoinette Sterling does i.ofc seem to affect anything newer than Moir's " Children Asleep " and Molloy's " We'll Keep the Old Grey Mare, John." "Soldier John," by E. M. Cheaham, has been commended to us, and Michael Watson's " Little Lord Fauntleroy" seems being sung everywhere, judging by concert programmes. The best of the new sacred songs is " Gethsemane," by Odoardo Barry.

In the comic line I know of nothing better than Grossmith's absurd parody of modern sentimental songe, "Thou of My Thou" and "A Cockney's Life for Me." The joy of the music halls ia Clias. Godfrey's dramatic scene son<r " Callod bo the Bar" (very suitable for colonial penny readings, etc.), and Jnmes Fawn's highly objectionable "Ask a Pleeccrnan." The barrel organs have with ono accord seized on the latter,which has a literally murderin?pirin{j refrain. By the way I oujjhb, I suppose, to have suggested Mr Michael May brick's newballad. " Moiia" tp your notice. Ib is published by i3oosey, who also announced " Down by the Sunlit Stream " by Molloy. Chappells advertise Tosti's " Winded Echoes " as very good, and the new Scotch song writer Haratah McCunn seems to have scored with a bibulous canticle called " Four Forth the Wine." A New Poet. A new poet has arisen, for whom " dear Andrew with the brindled locks " and other leading lights of the Savile Club predict a great fubure. This 13 none other than William Winter, the renowned Boston critic, whose obiter dicta on theatrical matters hav9 made or marred the career of more than one English " star" in the States. Mosb Americans were probably aware Winter possessed a pretty trick of versification, and had read fugitive pieces of hia in the magazines, but till the volume called " Wanderers " was published ten days ago few-appeartohave realised how thoroughly good he could be. Now " Wanderers" is to be seen on every "culchawed" Anglo American drawing-room table. It certainly does edn'b'ain some gems. Whab could be better than the following vignette of a cathedral city :— The quiet streets as eveninpr fell, Tl>e iniiaier's gloom, the solemn bell; The scented air. The rooks that thronged the priant trees, The churchyard stones; and over these The moonlight fair. Here, too, are some good "In Memoriam" verse 3, free from cant and rant ahd clean cut as a cameo :—; Speak softly here, and softly tread, For all the place is holy jrround. Where Nature's love enshrino3 herdead. And Earth with blessings folds them round. He rests at last—the world far off May riot in her mad excess, But now her plaudit and her scoff To him alike are nothingness. Hi learned in depths where virtue fell The heights to which the soul may rise, He sounded the abyss of hell, He scaled tha walls of Paradise. What else? Till every wandering star In Heaven's blue vault be cold and dim. Our faithful spirits following far Walk in tho light that falls from Him. Juvsnile Literature. Our boys seem to be going to be even better off than usual for exciting storybooks this Christmas. Mr Manville Fenn has deserted them, finding novels apparently better paying business than boys' tales; but Henty, the ever-faithful, is as usual to the fore with three new Bbories. and Mr Sabine Baring Gould and heir Hall Came have been trying their 'prentice iand3 at this description of literature, Mr Henty'B stories will of course be published by.Blackies; and are entitled " With Leo in Virginia," " By Pike and Dyke," "A Tale of the Rise of the Dutch Republic," and "One of the 28bh, a Story of Waterloo." The same firm,announce "Grettir the Outlaw, a Tale of Iceland," by S. Baring Qpuld; "Highways and. £ig& Seas," by,

1 Frankforb Moore ; and " Afloat, at Last, by J. C. Hutcheson. The latter gentleman further announces through Ward Lock "The Black Man's Ghosb ;„ a Story of the Buccaneers' Buried Treasure of the Galapagos Islands." Mr K. M. Ballantynes much-looked-forward-to annual tale will deal with smuggling from a novel standpoint, and is entitled " The Eagle Cliff; a Tale of the Western Isles ;" and Mr Edward Garretfc promises " John Winter; a Story of Harvests." Women's Books. Messrs Cassells lament dolorously that there are nob enough " culchawed " Englishwomen in existence to support a really high-class, " toney " magazine, like the " Women's World," and that thab pretentious and (if the truth must be told) deplorably dull periodical will in consequence cease to be published. Personally I fancy I shall be able to support; existence wibhoub it; indeed, I must confess i never was able to see quite where this magazine's surprising superiority to the average ladies' paper came in. The fashion notes were not to be compared with "The Queen's." The general articles seldom dealt with subjects of genuine domestic interest, and the fiction was poor. To epeak plainly, Mr Oscar Wilde failed. Now, " Atalanta," started at about the same time as the " Woman's World," as a high-class magazine for girls, has proved a complete success. It appeals bo every sort of damsel, from the immature " blue-stocking " who goes in for " competitions," "prize essays," and "hospital cots," to the mere "frivoller" who seeks its pages simply for the entertainment they afford. This year's annual volume contains a delightful novel by W. E. Norris, " Miss Shafto," which is itself worth the six shillings the book costs. i The Duciik.ss' Stories. The statement of Harper's, Munro's and other American pirates that Mrs Hungerford's (the Duchess') ebories are more popular than any others in the States has occasioned a good deal of surprise over here, where this author's works, though indubitably well read, have never been looked upon as anything phenomenal. The best of them »re "Mrs Geoffrey" and "Molly Bawn." When you've read these, you've read the lot. . 1 see, by-the-by, that sonre wiseaqre has discovered "The County," the new novel which has been running through "Cornhill," and comes out to-day in three volumes, is by Mrs Hungerfond. Don't believe it The styles are quite different. "The County" is obviously by a fresh, healthy, clever girl who ha 3 not studied Rhoda Broughton and Jajnea Payn for nothing. Rumour, I fancy, more nearly hit the mark when it attributed the authorship to one of the lust-named novelist's many charming daughters. We have heard nothing of Mr Anstey Guthrie (or "F. Anstey " as he prefers to be called) for so long thab his new novel to be published in bhree volumes on October 15th will be welcome indeed, it is called " The Pariah," and aspires to much higher flights than anything he has before attempted.

Mr Baring-Gould's new stoiy "The Pennycomequicks" (like co marry of the novels done to order for Tillotson's Bureau) is very pool indeed, in fact wholly unworthy of the author of " Mehalah/' Mr Gould is writing far too much. He seems always to have two if not three novels' on the stocks at a time. " The Pennycontj?quicks " deals with the erratic adventures of an amorous elderly cotton-spinner, who, for various wholly insufficient reasons, pretends to have been drowned during the fiood caused by a dam bursting. He keeps out of the way for some years and then comes to life again, highly inopportunely for some of tho characters. There is also a stolen will and an unhappy marriage. The dialogue at times reads* crisply enough, but on the whole the book is dull.