TOPICS OF THE DAY.

Press, Volume XLIX, Issue 14823, 14 November 1913, Page 8

TOPICS OF THE DAY.

A curious .pastoral relic, an* A all but submerged islet of Pastoral country in an ocean of city. Relic, is to be seen (though fe\?

Londoners would believe it) within half a mile of Charing Cross, situated—of all places—in Tottenham Court road. This relic is an old farmhouse lying at the rear of a furniture factory. It is soon to be ■ demolished for workshop extensions, says the "Daily .Telegraph." A pretty little farmhouse, with high-pitched rooT , and old-fashioned dormer windows, situated in Soho, right in the heart of theatre-land, has only lately preceded it into extinction. The history of this belated Tottenham Court road farm is told by the author of "A Book for a Rainy Day." In the middle of the 18th century two maiden sisters of tho name of Capper occupied the place. "They wore riding habits and men's hats; one used to ride with a largo pair of shears after boys who were'flying their kites across the fields, purposely to cut tho strings; the other sister's business was to seize tho clothes of the lads who trespassed on their premises to bathe." These rather eccentric ladies were extremely jealous of their privacy, and when "the new road from Paddington to Islington" (now known in its various stages as Marylebone road, Euston- road, and Pontonville road) was projected, they protested emphatically, complaining in a letter to the Duke of Bedford, their landlord, that the dust and the number of people would "entirely spoil these fields, and make them ho better than common land," and hinting at a large abatement of rent should the road after all be made. The rent paid by these tenants was £3 an acre. "Capper's Farm" flourished till the end of the 18th century, when open fields still existed in liloomsbury, and forty cows at least were stalled in Tottenham Court road. Near the farm, and overlooked from it, was the "Field of tho Forty Footsteps." Two brothers, so tho legend runs, fought a duel there, about the time of Monmouth's rebellion, and both were killed. Forty footprints were left in the struggle, and over the accursed "places no grass would grow afterwards. This spot has lons since been built upon, and it will not be long before the farmhouse, too, will be a thing of the past.

Owing to the growth of Warships' the -Navy, the Admiralty Names. is having some difficulty in finding suitable names .for warships. It is recorded ofono Minister at the end of the 18th century, that he kept a classical dictionary handy, and when ■ a vessel was about to be christened ho chose the narao of some mythological celebrity which took his fancy. Thus the British sailor made the acquaintance of Agamemnon and BeJlerophon, names which survive in tho fleet to-day. To-day christening ie more difficult.. Old

names can be revived, as in tho case of the Royal Sovereign class now passing out of commission, the names of which will be borne by vessels of tho current programme. But the multiplication of small vessels calls for new names. Ninety-eix destroyers have been lsid down in the last five years, and their nomenclature has not been altogether happy. Even naval officers cannot remembers the ships that belong to the various classes. The Admiralty has, therefore, determined on a new system. In future each member of a group will have one of the letters of the alphabet painted prominently on it, and its name will begin with the letter of its class. Thus tho vessels now under construction will belong to the "L" and "M" classes, and the opportunity has been seized to commemorate tho exploits of a group of officers, all but one belonging to tho Nelson period, whoso names havo almost passed from tho memory of their countrymen. In this way the service aud the public will bo reminded of Admiral Sir John Lawford, who capi turod a Spanish convoy worth £600,090, and on another occasion ships carrying over a million dollars in specie. There will also bo a reminder of the services of Rear-Admiral Sir Thomas Louis, who fought- with distinction at tho battle of the Nile; of Captain Charles Lydiard, who, when his ship was lost oil tho Lizard in December ISO 7, refused to move until'all tho crew had gone and paid willingly the price- of tho highest naval tradition; of Captain C. J. M. Mansfield, who won fame at Trafalgar; of Sir David Milne, whose family etill serves King and country at sea in the person of tho. present Coinmander-in-Chief in the Mediterranean; of Sir R. Moorsom, another hero of Trafalgar Bay; and of Sir J. X. Morris, who, wounded at the same battle, remained at his post to the end, and then fainted and had to bo carried below. Those men's fame has been obscured by that of Nelson and his admirals, and it is fitting that it should bo commemorated in this way.

When one reads that though

Sir the late Sir Alfred East, tho Alfred famous landscape.. painter., East, had to go to work at six as

a boy, ho found time to study painting, one wonders to what extent the present generat-ion. takes advantage of the shorter hours of to-day to improve itself. Is there proportionately more self-culture to-day than when this artist was ,a boy? Men like Sir Alfred were full of grit.' By twentyfive he had saved enough to throw up his work ami go to Paris to study. Tho struggle for a oompetenco was long, hut the compensation of a happy life was considerable. "What an unorthodox crew we wero!" he said once; "we had a new fad every year. Once we had an epidemic of moonlight, which led us to go out into tho forest of Fontainebleau every night to paint, each student carrying a, candle in a cigar-box. Wo were queer characters if you like; but it was" a, hard fight to keep the pot boiling. One fellow had literally no money, and he had gone on credit for such a long time at the restaurant that they seized his picture at the Salon!" Ho was a married man with little more than a paint-box and a number of sketches when he arrived in London to make his living by his art. "I am sorry."'said a dealer to whom he showed some sketches, "but, you aco, you don't belong to any of the Royal Societies connected with Art." Years went by without his selling one of his Academy pictures, and perhaps it was this long struggle that mado him say in tho days of his success that, had ho known what was in front of him, he would not have become an artist. But he had amusing experiences of the Philistine public to lighten his way. One Academy picture of his—the subject was Spring—lfad a nude nymph in the foreground. Ho saw a delightful old couple standing for a moment in front of the canvas, and as he passed heard the old gentleman say to his wife, "Oh, my dear, these artiste are fools!" In confirmation of his view, he pointed a scornful finger at the figure of tho nymph. "Look," ho said emphatically. "Jnst look at that figure. Who ever saw any human .being sitting about like that without any-clothes on a damp bankP Why he'd get a very bad attack of rheumatism." If one does not become an artist, one is certainly spared the disappointment inseparable from trying to appeal through the imagination to an unimaginative public.