LONDON GOSSIP.

Auckland Star, Volume XXV, Issue 95, 21 April 1894, Page 4 (Supplement)

LONDON GOSSIP.

(FBOM OUB SPECIAL COBRESPONDENT.)

London, March 2,

Lord Wynchcombe,

Mb Habby Wyndham Carter, who baa been committed for trial on a chares °t threatening to kill the Queen, belongs fco a well-known Kent county family and ia a terrible thorn in the side of his relations. I knew him slightly years ago before he 6rst got into trouble. Like myself, he wad at that time a collector of first editions, and we were perpetually running up against one another in booksellers' shop 3. He seemed to me a very excitab c, gusty and tempestuous person, who iet himself so on the least provocation, but also a highly-cultured man and what fellows would call 'good form.' He had a beautiful house, or rather villa, near Sevenoaks (I think it was), a capital library, a much too nice - looking housekeeper (ao at least Mra Grundy thought) and about 20 dogs, mastiffs, bloodhounds and great danes. One afternoon Carter entertained* me with a vivacious account of a mess he'd got into with a money-lender, who wanted 60 per cent, for a little loan. Carter refused to pay more than the principal and 5 per cent interest, so the Jew announced his intention of seizing his furniture under a bill of sale he'd given as security. When, however, the law officers arrived at Sevenoakß they found the house shuttered and the 20 doga loose and very hungry. They hired some rustics to assist them and set to work to besiege the place. When I saw Carter hie house had been surrounded for four days. Nevertheless, the reckless harum-scarum chap had escaped to town ana bought, a revolver which ho now showed us, and declared with many oaths he should use when he got back. I only half believed the whole story, but a friend who knew the man better than I implored him to leave the ugly weapon behind. Next evening I read that Mr Carter had been arrested on a charge of attempted murder. He had fired at one of the Sheriffs officers, and put his eye out. Fearful of what he might do next, the accused's brother refused to bail him, and be spent some days in prison. Between that period and hia trial there seemed no limits to his follies. He ' slanged ' his advisers, wrote to the judge who was going to try the case, tried to bribe the prosecutor (but not high enough), and finally insisted on managing his own defence. The day of the trial came, and Carter, to the horror of his friends, was airy, even frivolous. He had put out fehe poor devil's eye unintentionally. Well, he was ready to pay for the optic whatever the learned judge thought it worth, etc, etc., etc. Judge Hawkins face got blacker and blacker, and when Carter had been found guilty hie wrath overflowed. The prisoner's education and position made his crime and his callous, cruel demeanour all the more culpable. He seemed to think a poor man's eye of no particular consequence, and thar. a pound or two would salve its loss. Moreover he (the learned judge) was determined to put down theabueeof firearms, and should for this and other reasons pass an exemplary sentence. ' Five years' penal 'servitude.' Carter dropped senseless, and ! when he came to he was as mad as a hatter. i His relatives were, after a time, allowed to place him in a private asylum, and there he in time recovered his original manner, One or two delusions oppressed him, the first being : That he is the rightful heir to a peerage, and ehould be Lord Wynchcombe ; and the second, that the Royal Family have strong reasons for suppressing him. Three months ago Carter escaped from the lunatic aaylum. He was caught at last and brought up before a county Bench, but bo quietly and sanely did he behave, and 80 intelligently did he cross examine witnesses, etc., that the magistrates refused to recommit him. A tew weeks passed and Carter again cropped up charged at Bow-street with threatening Her Majesty. Tho inculpatory letter was produced by Sir Henry Ponsonhy,and various persons recognised the accused's handwriting. ' Another attempt against my liberty ' said tho prisoner quietly. He dofended himself with much coolness and selfpossession and created an excellent effect on the public. A more dangerous madman to be at large 'twould be difficult to imagine. His relations dread an acquittal aboveeverything. Fortunately, for the present Mr Carter is safe, bail having been refused. Boobdin's Burial. If aught were calculated to give pause ro those Anarchists who still retain a glimmer of ordinary human reason it was the incident which marked the progress of th« procession which accompanied the mangled remains of Anarchist Bourdin to their finol resting place in Finchley Cemetery on Friday afternoon. Aa a demonstration of antipathy to Anarchism and its exponents, academic and working, the funeral proC9ssion was perfect. The crowds which lined the route, and which but for the interposition of a huge body of police mounted and on foot, would have wrecked the cortege and maltreated the € mourners,' were not compoeed of roughs alone. The 'unemployed element' was, of course, predominant, but respectable law abiding citizens were there in abundance and joined heartily with their leBB respectable townsfolk in tho demonstration. Plainly was it shown that the ppirit which leads to lynching in America, ia by no means extinct in the Old Country. Ib is only dormant and the developments of Anarchism will quite easily rou«e it into violent activity. A small explosion in London of the nature of the outrage at the Cafe ! Terminus, in Parh, would, I think, after seeing the temper of tho crowd on Friday, repult in the decoration of our lamp post* with human beings. In public conveyances at the present moment talk runs largely on tho subject of adequate punishmenf for Anarchists, and it would be a i dangerous experiment to enunciate the doctrine of indiscriminate violence and cruelty in train,''bus or tram. A month ago the academic Anarchist could have aired his views almost anywhere with per-; feet safety. Today, he would run a porioiiß risk ot maltreatment, however mild his creed.

Bourdin was buried from an undertaker's shop in Chapel-streeb, Edtrware Road, and in spite of police precaution of spreading false reports as to the time of the funeral, there was a dense and hostile crowd in readiness when the time for the departure of the funeral cortege came. The first incident) which Bhowed the intention of the populace, happened ehortly before 'the hearse drove up to the door. A number of men appeared ab the Liason Grove end of Chapel-streeb, carrying two red banners edped with black. They were jeered and roughly hustled by the crowd as they endeavoured to force their way through. Having arrived ab the undertaker's shop they were ab once ordered to withdraw by the police, and being somewhat slow in obedience were unceremoniously collared by the constablep, robbed of their flags and bundled through the crowd in double quick time. Some of the crowd gave chase to the Anarchists the moment the police retired, and it ie odds on that they vulgarly speaking ' gob bsans' in the back streets. This incident showed the authorities tbab so far from any trouble arising in connection with the Anarchists their efforts would have to be directed to preserving the peace of thefu»eral party. The appearance of the coffin as ib was borne forth to the hearse was signalled by a storm of hissing and hooting, which swelled in volume after the mournerß entered the carriage and the journey to the

cemetery had begun. So threatening in deed was the attitude of the crowd that the reserved police were called from Liaaon Grove to form an eaco rt for the procession. The occupants of the mourning coach were terrified, as their white, scared faces abundantly testified. As the cortege moved slowly along the uproar increased and an attack on the car and coach seemed imminent before Lisson Grove was cleared. Wild cries of ' Down with the Anarchists,' 'Give the beans,' and other hostile exclamations saluted the procession at every point, and it was found necessary at last to block the passage of the mob with mounted constable? backed up by footmen with drawn truncheons. The procession waa allowed through this human barrier, but nut a eoul else. But for this strategic movement I am convinced that the hearse would have been wrecked and the coach also.

The scene at the cemetery was tremendously exciting. The hearse arrived at about half past three, its appearance being greeted with hisses and boots and hideous cat-calls from the >wd gathered in the vicinity. A huge force of police kept the mob at, a safe distance, but when the unconsacrated ground of the cemetery, in which fhe grave had been prepared, was reached, there wa3 found a crowd of fully a thousand people. The presence of death all round them seemed to have a calming influence on this mob. There were hisses and crowns, it is true, but they were subdued, and no attempt was made to interfere with the funeral procession. While the coffin was being lowered into its unhallowed grave, a lady, clad in black and closely veiled, was seen to place a white wreath on the lid. It bore the inscription, • With deepest love from Fanny.' The coffin disappeared into the depths, and at the moment a remarkable episode occurred, and one which nearly ended disastrously for its originator. A ehort, fair man, dressed in dark garments, suddenly sprang upon the narrow wooden platform which led up to the grave, and gesticulating wildly, shouted in ear-piercing tones, 'Friends and Anarchists—' But he gob no farther. The words were barely past his lips when, to the accompaniment of a mighty shout, 'Throw him out!' the would-be orator was seized by two or three constables and forcibly removed. Amid cries of ' Hang him,' ' Scrag the brute,' and 'Lynch him,' and similar violent exclamations, the police hurried the struggling fool away to the gates of the cemetery. He proved to be one Quin, a member of the Commonweal Club. Lucky, indeed, ib was for him that the police allowed their sense of duty to conquer thoir natural inclination to let the crowd deal with him. There can be no doubt as to his fate, for the police found it necessary to detain him in their custody till the mourning coach was driven up to the gates. Into this Quin jumped with alacrity born of terror, and in a moment ho was driven away. A rush was made after the vehicle, but the police managed to stem the crowd until the coach was well away down the street. Hundreds of people lingered in the cemetery and in the vicinity till long past four o'clock, but gradually the crowds melted away, and by tive the excitement of the day was over — or rather, one should say, the venue was changed, for. on the «;ime evening an attack was made on the Autonomie Club by a body of roughs. But for the lucky happening of police brtneing (.aft the club sundry embryo medicos arrested for creating a disturbance earlier in the day, there is little doubt that the crowd would have taken the advice tendered them by the driver of a passing vehicle to burn the place down. The shutters of the Club were giving way to the pulling and hauling of sundry stalwart roughs when the police and students wore driven past in hackney carriages. In a moment the crowd turned its attention to this procession and. the Autonomie Club was saved. As it was the plateglat>s fanlight on which the name of the institute was painted was Smashed to atoms and the door and shutters were rendered fit subjects for the carpenter's arc. Earlier in the evening, several members of, the Club had been caueht either trying to enter or to leave, aori had been knocked about rather badly. Bourdin's funeral has chown conclusively that Mr Aaquibh'a tolerance in allowing Anarchist doctrines to be promulgated in public will no longer be tolerated by the populace. The 'safety valve' argument will no more be swallowed by Londoners, nor will they allow their city to remain a harbour of refuge for the murderous scum of the Continent. A vigorous crueade aeainsb these vermin would make the Home Secretary popular with all classes, and would, in a measure, strengthen his party with the electors. Souls. That eclectic and mysterious society, the Soul*, for rh& existence of which our Home Secretary's fiancee, Mi-e Margob Tennant, is in the main responsible, is composed of groupa of two individuals usually, though not necessarily so, of opposite sexes. These alliances are presumably 'for ever and a day sfterwardp,' and quite independent of mundane circumstances —such as the marriage of either of its meraberß to a third por*on. The world would call the«e alliances ' Platonic friendships,' bub amongst Souls they are termed ' unions of affinities.' Each 'soul' has its 'affinity' to whom it can communicate, under all circumstances and from any distance, its thoughts, hopes, fears and knowledge by means of the process called * telepathy.' (Julia, we then comprehend, is no 'spook,' but simply Mr Stead's ' affinity.') The rules of the Society of Souls are few and amazingly simple, one of the most stringent being an embargo on the uee of fish knives. Ib is well that this rule should have come out prior to the wedding of the Home Secretary and his 'affinity' (for euch, we understand, MissTennanb is), since fish knives often form a very important item in the presents given by friends of both parties. In 9 list of presents published recently in a society paper, there were five sets of bhepe useful articles.

Here is a story of Soulb. At a wellknown country house not lone: aero, two Soula happened to be ptaying. One waa a girl of tender years, and the other a very young man. They were also • affinities.' After two or three delightful • sympathetic ' days, the girl caught a violent cold, and waa confined to her bed. Her mother, on her way downstairs nexb morning met the very young? man on his way up. His face waa pale and in his hand was a huge tome bound in dull brown leather. ' Good Morning Mr "Blanks," Baid the lady 'Have you breakfasted already?' 'No' answered the very young man in dolorous voice, 'I'm too miserable to eat any breakfast, ao I'm just going upstairs to sit with your daughter and read to her.' The matron's indignation can easily bo imagined, bub in answer to her horrified protest against auch a gross breach of the convenances he blandly suggested a compromise. The door of the young lady's room should be leffe open and he would sit in the passage and finish reading to his'affinity' a book in which they were both absorbed. 'I think,' he wound up ' ib would cheet her up, don't you ?' ' Whab is the name of the book V asked the mother. ' Oh, its in here,' said the very young man tapping hia finger on the volume he was carrying, ' it's called the "Book of Job."' Three Hundred Guineas For An Egg. The famous auction rooms of Mr Stevens ab King-street, Covenb Garden, were crammed with an ' olla podrida' of humanity on Friday, drawn thither by the notification that amongst the collection of rare British and foreign eggs to be hammered that day was a specimen of bho great auks. I had a look at this ovarian rarity prior to the commencemenb of the auction. It was contained in a small glass covered box, whereon the duab lay thick.

By peering closely, one could &co the egg. ; It was nob a thing of beauty, though; doubtless a joy for ever to its possessor, being ot a dirty white hue, curiously marked with dots and irregular splashes of i chocolate brown. The length of the egg did not exceed four inches, and at the broad end a crack was visible. Mr Stevens told us that this same egg was purchased originally , from a Frenchman for a few francs, and ; in 1856 was sold' for 20 guineas in the ■ same room. He told us also thab thero; were only sixty specimens of this particular j ovarian curiosity in existence, and gave a j good deal ot information regarding aukn | and their egge. Then he started the \ bidding for this one ab 100 guineas, and by j dint of coaxing managed to bring the price up to 210 guineas. Then came a pause, bub more blarney from the rostrum induced a ripe of 10 guineas, and the spine of nompetition awakening in the breasts of several opulent collectors present the price quickly mounted to 290 guinea?. Toon came another pause, bub Mr Stevens ap pealed most pathetically for au advance, and the agent of Sir V. H. Crewe responded gallantly. That wa« the last straw, or, rather, bid, and for 300 guineas the great auks'egg found a new owner. The price is a record for an auks' egg submitted to auction. •The New Boy.' The verdict of the critical first nighber9 who assembled in force at Terry's theatre on Thursday night last, was that 'The New Boy ' had evidently come to etay. Certainly none bub those whose digestive organs are thoroughly out of repair will fail to welcome so amusing an individual to the metropolitan boards. Mr Laws has hit upon a happy idea, and he has developed it ingeniously. ' The New Boy 'is in realiby a gentleman of thirty, whose youthful appearance enables him to masquerade as a lad of fourteen. That is the starting point of Mr Laws' farce, and but little effort of imagination is required to conceive the droll embroglio to be evolved therefrom. Mrs Boulter, a widow, fat, fair, and forty, has married a Mr Archibald Bennicke, her junior by a good ten years. Together the couple visit a certain Dr. Candy, proprietor of a boys' school, through whose generosity they hope to repair their broken fortune?. The doctor believes his cousin to be etill a widow, and speedily declares that the will he has made in her favour will be altered the moment she re-enters wedlock. Under these circumstances there is nothing for the unhappy woman to do but introduce her husband as her son Freddie. Rennicke is at once packed off to his aunt in London, ■ in order to enter the worthy doctor* school. From this situation sprung the most amusing incidents. In his character of the new boy, Rennicke is catechised by the doctor, made love to by the girls, bullied by the boys, patronised by the men, sub-' jected to every conceivable indignity, forced to absorb weak tea when his palate ; craves for whisky and soda, compelled by the school bully to go ' scrumping ' in a neighbouring orchard, and finally con demned by the local magistrate to be birched for that offence. Mr Laws has introduced into his scheme a subsidiary in teresb dealing with the efforts of a knavieh Irish adventurer to obtain Dr. Candy's money for himself, and bo skilfully has ho employed this minor theme that the fun ia kept up fast and furious bo the close, instead of, as is the rule, fizzling out in the middle of the third act. The part of the boy-man of course fitted Weedon Groeemithjike a glove, and the success of the piece waa as much due to his quaint personality as to his acting. The contrast between Mr Gro&emith in short jackets and his manly air, between his supposed requirements and his actual necessities, kept the audience in a constant ferment of laughter. The piece was, of course, written entirely with a view to Großsmith tilling the title role, but the author has given strong parts to Mr John H^auchamp (Dr. Candy), Miss Gladys Homfrey (Mrs Rennicke), and the minor characberß are all well suited. The en thiisiasrn of the first night audience required the presence before the curtain of Mr Laws twice before it cooled down enough to allow of a general exodus.

The farce should certainly find a place in the repertory of Antipodean companies. I am told, indeed, thab Mr J. C. Williamson is already negotiating for the Australian rights. Amusements. Mr D'Oyley Carhe does nob expec fc ' Utopia 'to run through the year, though it will probably see the season out. Gilbert and Sullivan are already busy on its successor, the scene of which is laid in Egypt. George Groanmith will return to the Savoy for this production. The long tours of recitais, though they have realised a fortune, have partially broken flown G. G.s health, and he comes back to the stage for a rest. Of course there if> pome eliehb difference in the earnings nf Mr Groasmith as acbor and Mrtirosamith as mono'otruisr. Ab the Savoy he gets £60 a week. On tours he has hardly ever made less than a clear profit of £500 or £600 for seven recitals. Since be left the Savoy,. G. G. ia known to have realised close on £100,000. This was the modeat competence on which the Bancrofts retired. And they were wise in their generation. A few unlucky seasons would have knocked a big hole therein. Mr Carte, for example, lost the profiba of ten years in a twelvemonth over the Enelish Opera House, and Rubland Barrington dropDed the savings of a similar period (and several thousands of a city friend* besides) in three months at the St. James 1.

Mrs Patrick Campbell, and not Minn Neilson, will be the Haymarket • Fedora ' next autumn. Meanwhile 'The Talisman,' and nob Mr Chambers' 'Two Men and a Woman,' has been placed in rehearsal at Mr Tree'B Theatre. Ib will be played by the full strength of the company, Mr Anson being reclaimed from the Garrick for the leading comedy role.