THE LISBON MURDERS.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIX, Issue 70, 21 March 1908, Page 9

THE LISBON MURDERS.

I The murder of the King of Portugal ! and his eldest son, dreadful as the episode has been, caused curiously little stir in this country. Parliament "and the Press gave utterance to the conventional expressions of abhorrence and regret that are customary on such occasions; but otherwise there was little indication of any strong public feeling in the matter. The reason seems to mc to be threefold. In the first place, to the vast majority of people in this country, Portagal is terra incognita—a land as remote from an Englishman's daily life and thought as Wilkes Land or the*Fa!klnud Islands. Living here in London, for instance, I am io nearer Portugal in spirit than I would be if I were back in Kew Zealand. 12X)0O miles away from Lisbon. Its name is mentioned seldom in the newspapers, and never in the daily conversation of the multitude. There may be a Portuguese "colony" in London, and probably there is: but its members are not identified in the streets as being Portuguese. There has, in fact, been nothing distinctive about Portugal to grip the Briton's imagination and hold it in his memory. The late King we knew as a stout, good-natured, easygoing monarch, with a penchant for marksmanship, at which he was said to be an expert. We saw him drive in State to the Guildhall a year or two ago, and then he pasted out of sight and out of mind. I am afraid one remembered him chiefly for the delicious little story of his alleged conversation with the late Marquis of Salisbury. "'And what is it. your Majesty'" asked the Marquis, "that has impressed you most in England?" "Your English roast beef/ came the unexpected reply. "It is very fine." "And did nothing else impress you?" "Oh, yes." said King Carlos, en- | thusiastically: "your English boiled J bppf. It is unequalled!"' The story is. i perhaps, apocryphal, but it illustrates j the popular idea of the late King as j figured by the man in the street. For I the rest, Portugal was an unknown quantity. This must be remembered in gauging the effect of the news of the murders upon the public mind. Anyone who ; : as given any thought to tbe psychology of "news"' will appreciate its significance. A second reason was the paucity of j detail regarding the terrible deeds of I Saturday last. Very little news has been allowed to come through from Lisbon regarding the killing of the Sovereign and his eldest son. The curtain that hid Lisbon from the outer world was raised for a brief space. We saw in imagination that terrible scene enacted. Wo saw a pale-faced, black-bearded man leap on the step of the Royal carriage ana fire a revolver point-bfank at the King. We saw another man at the comer of the street fire two shots from a carbine and strike down the Grown Prince: we saw Queen Amelie's splendidly courageous attempt to shield her son from death, oblivious to her own risk. We pictured the wild scene of chaos and despair that followed, the shouting, the cries of terror, the confusion dire and indescribable. Then came that terrible glimpse of the bereaved Queen sitting like a statue between the bodies of her ' murdered husband and son, holding a I hand of each—a picture of desolation and despair unutterable. And then the cur- ! tain interposed once more, and the great, ' noisy, preoccupied world moved on. infinitely busy about its little personal affairs; momentarily thrilled, and then absorbed once more in the more immediate interests of the daily round of life. As a third reason one might suggest a lack of sympathy with autocratic rule. The British love of free institutions is incompatible with sympathy for the ruthless dictatorship which brought about the crisis in Lisbon. There is the J feeling that King Carlos was hopelessly ill-advised in trusting the government of his country to a Dictator whose idea of maintaining law and order was to muzzle Parliament, the Press, and the I municipal councils, to imprison and de- • port people by hundreds without trial, j and stamp on every aspiration towards I individual freedom. "That is your work,"' cried the bereaved Queen Amelie. pointing to the dead bodies when the DieJ tator Franco sought an audience. English opinion. I believe, is with the Queen.