LONDON GOSSIP.

Evening Star, Issue 10149, 30 October 1896, Page 4

LONDON GOSSIP.

[From Opr Special Correspondent.]

London, September 11,

The bleak and rainy weather which has prevailed throughout August and thus far into September is driving people back to town much earlier than usual, and in another week or so the silly season will be at an end. Meanwhile journalists are making as much a3 possible out of the Armenian massacre at Constantinople, which certainly doesn't decrease in horror upon closer acquaintance. That it was instigated by the Sultan is now certain, and it appears equally indubitable that over and above diplomatic amenities—for which the Son of Heaven has a well-founded contempt—the Powers do not mean to avenge his cruel treachery in any way. The Ambassadors some days ago informed His Majesty of their suspicions of his complicity without in the least disturbing his serenity. Ho merely replied that it was all the fault of the Armenians. They began the row and they should be punished. The Ambassadors have since drawn up a stiff Note pointing out that, whether the Armenians "began it" or not, the Turkish authorities undoubtedly allowed the murders to go on, if they did not encourage them. But the Sultan does not seem to be impressed by this either, for he has replied only by repeating that the responsibility for the calamity really rests I with the Armenian conspirators. To this the Ambassadors have no repartee ready, and so they decline to discuss the Sultan's communication. The truth is, of course, the Sultau snaps his fingers at " stiff Notes" and all the rest of the diplomatic artillery, whilst he knows the concert of Europe is a farce. A word from Russia would put an end to Armenian massacres for ever, but the Cztr's advisers won't speak that word, and Britain's arm is paralysed by the fear of a great European war. I am beginning to bs sorry for the Armenians. They are unclean, lying, treacherous, and cruel as the Turks themselves. Still there are some moderately respectable persons amongst them, and it seems to be chiefly such who come to grief. "This unhappy people," we read, "place their hopes now principally in the rousing of the conscience of Europe." If they were wise they would instead pray for the massacre by Turks of half a dozen English and American subjects. An act of that description would stimulate British sympathies amazingly. THE GREAT-STARRED LOISANOFF SAPPHIRE. What will become of the great-starred aupphire of the Lobanoffs now the Prince is dead is a question at present agitating many illustrious feminine bosoms anxious to possess that unique stone. No other such unequalled blue brilliant exists. Its size and its luminous splendors are unsurpassed, aud endless fantastic legends cluster around its history. The owner himself viewed the gem as a talisman from which he refused to part even for a single hour, keeping it in a little leather case hanging to a gold chain riveted to his wrist. They say that he had acquired it under singular circumstances, having paid for it by the cession of a certain number of villages with miles upon miles of mountain territory. Amoug the common people it was regarded as endowed with magical power capable of revealing the future and also of displaying the occupations and the whereabouisof the personages concerning whom the consultant might evince anxiety. The Prince liked to encourage this notion, and, before he finally decided any important point of diplomacy or policj 7 , invariably made a point of ostentatiously gazing at the sapphire. No doubt his decision was really come to beforehand, but he snapped out the answer as though the gem inspired it. Occasionally others were allowed to peer into the future by means of this uncmny stone. And thereby hangs a story. It occurred in Paris during the last days of the Empire, when the pending German war was being discussed everywhere. One evening at the Princess Mathilde's reception Prince Lobauoff was announced, and the idea of consulting the sapphire was suggested by Madame Segalas. She herself, as the inspired poetical genius of the day, was chosen a3 the fittest interpreter of the mysteries attendant on the expedition to Berlin. Prince LobanofT held the sapphire in his hand without withdrawing it from the case in which it was confined, showing it to none but the lady consultant. " What do you see 1" said Princes 3 Mathilde. For a moment there was deep silence ; then Madame Segalas rose from the kneeling posture she had assumed for the greater convenience of inspecting the sapphire, and turned to the assembly with a countenance so full of horror and affright that the whole company rose to their feet, while the poor consultant, evidently stricken with terror, rushed from the room, exclaiming : " I cannot speak. I will write, I will write." The pago she wrote on the occasion, duly signed and with her eeal affixed, is still to be Been at the Bibliotheque. Tne whole scene of the flight of the Impress from the Tuilerics on tho news of the Emperor's defeat and surrender to the German commander was described with the most accurate details, and tho events described, although at the moment considered unworthy of belief, were written down then and confided to the cvre of a friend, who, considering the document as possessed of historic interest, subsequently sent it to the Bibiiotheque. ARRIVAL OF THE WINDWARD. With the arrival of the gallant little Windward in the Thames we are placed in possession of a good deal of entertaining gossip anent the circumstances surrounding the meeting of Mr Jackson and Dr Nansen in th' 3 Arctic regions. Mr Harry Fisher, botanist on the Windward, was the fir3t person to talk informally with the Press about things. He said :—"o,i June 17 wo. had just finished dinner at Ehnwood, our headquarters at Cape Flora, and were all seated around the table which stood in the centre of our comfortable logwood dining room. The day was dull aud mis y, but not very cold, and we were whiliug away the time laughing and chatting and smoking our pipes. Suddenly Mr Armitage, our astronomer, who had' been to the observatory, put his head in the door and shouted ' How many of you are here ? I see a man on tho ice - floe.' We counted round, and found that all were present. We then became somewhat excited, and wondered who the stranger could be. Mr Jackson at once got up and said ' Whoever it is, I'm off.' He then ran off. The rest of us scrambled for telescopes and binoculars, and some climbed up the rock in order to find who the mysterious newcomer was. The idea of it being Nansen did not occur to us until after the lapse of about twenty minutes. Mr Armitage and I, who had good glasses, hazarded the suggestion that the stranger might be Nansen. By this time Jackson and the man he was approaching looked like two specs in the distance. They were gesticulating violently, and soon they came up to one another' and stood apparently talking. Watching the stranger carefully, we came to the conclusion that he must be the Norwegian explorer. The latter had a gun in one hand and a bamboo stick in the other. He was wearing 'ski,' and was jumping about from one ice hummock to the other in a marvellous manner. We all went down to where Mr Jackson and his companion were, and when we got within speaking distance Mr Jackson called cut' This is Dr Nansen,' whereupon we cheered until we were hoarse. Dr Nansen could only say : ' This is very pleasant; this is very pleasant!' When we heard how far north Dr Nansen had been we again gave three hearty cheers. Now we had time to look at Nansen, and it is certain his nearest relation would not have recognised him. He was absolutely black from head to foot. His light hair and moustache were jet black, and there was not a speck of white about his face or hands. He looked for all the world like a nigger, and the brightness of his eyes was accentuated by the grime of his face, which had been blackened by the blubber smoke. His clothes—the one suit he had worn for fifteen months—were stiff with blood and oil, with which his face and hands were also covered. After standing and talking for some minutes we heard that Nansen's companion was in the neighborhood, and while Mr Jackson and Dr Nansen started off for Elmwood, Mr Child and I went off to find Lieutenant Johansen. After going for a short distance we suddenly rounded a hummock of ice and saw Johansen, who had the kayaks with him. Before coming up to the lieutenant we saw what iooked like a black flag on a pole.

On approaching nearer we found it to be a shirt evidently blackened by many months of blubber smoke. Johansen himself, like his chief, was as black as a nigger from the same cause. His appearance was rendered more grotesque by two white patches under his eyes. We had great difficuity in making Johansen understand us, as he knew no English. We greeted one another by waving our caps aud by heartily shaking hands. We gave Johansen a pipe and tobacco, and he had the first smoke since he had left the Fram. We at once took charge of the kayaks and the other impediments, refusing to allow Johansen to carry anything, and we started off to follow Nansen and Jackson to Elm wood. When we reached our headquarters it was midnight, which up here is as light as noon. We began to prepare a good meal for our guests, who meanwhile had a much-needed hot bath aud an entire change of clothes. After Nansen and his companions had had a shave and a hair cut none would have recognised them as the dishevelled, smoke-blackened individuals we had met on the ice. Our dinner was a great success, for we managed, to Nansen's astonishment, to add to roast loom green peas and other vegetables, jam tart, cheese, and preserved fruits, all washed down by port, sherry, and whisky. I can leave you to imagine how hearty were the toasts that followed.'' THE IRISH RACE CONVENTION FIASCO. The chief result of the pretentious " Convention of the Irish Race" last week has baen to prove once more the absolute unpractically of the party over which Mr Dillon rules. The whole expensive business resulted in the merest flummery. The delegates called "Peace, peace" when they knew there was no peace and when they wouldn't have conceded an iota to procure it, and th y passed resolutions in favor of absolute and hopeless impossibilities, well knowing them to be unattainable ideals. It is this senseless refusal to look facts in the face that exasperates the practical Tim Healy unspeakably. If it had not been for Redmond and himself the Irish Land Bill now become law would never have passed the Commons. Mr Davitt denounced aud voted against it. Mr Diilon did all in his power to throw discredit upon it short of voting against it, and, but for the keenness of the minority who supported it, it would have succumbed to the mauy difficulties placed in Mr Gerald Balfour's way. Even now, as may be seen from the long string of wordy resolutions moved and carried in " the Convention of the Irish Race at Home and Abroad," they throw cold water upon it and make as light of it as possible. What Irishmen really get, however useful it may be, loses all interest .in thtir eyes. It is what they cannot get | that they cvre for. In the abstract the Irish people are all for unity in depreciating anything that the British Government will concede, but in the concrete they like very much to receive a substantial boon, so long as they are not obliged to express any gratitude for it, which would hurt their feelings. j Nothing would vex them more than not to i get a boon like the Land Bill, but they must j be able to growl—if possible with sincerity—- ( at the paltriness of the concession. j Liberals see this sickening ingratitude now i almost as clearly as Tories, aud the future j seems likely to emphasiso it, even more i sharply. On (lit the Government have j bought the Healyites and Redmondhes with the release of thedynamitards, aud that next ! year will see the latter habitually voting I Tory. Most of the Radical papers look for- ' ward to thi3 consummation, which, whilst ! rendering the Irish of no account to either j party, would still further deplete the attenuI ated minority on Sir Wm. Harcourt's side of i the House. j THE MEMORIAL CRAZE. I A reaction is, I'm glad to say, setting in ! against the craze for perpetuating memorials, '■ which has gradually become a serious infliction. No sooner does a great man die ! nowadays than his friends promptly propose I a statute or some equally unornamental , tribute to his memory, aud acquaintances j and admirers, fearful of being considered ; unsympathetic, are forced to subscribe ! thereto. At the present moment there are • no fewer than five of these undertakings on i hand, and for four, if nob all of them, there I seems to lie no call whatever. Lord Leigh- ! ton and Millais leave behind innumerable ! memorials in their pictures. What statue ' can perpetuate the former's work half so • (flectuallyasthc frescoes in South Kensington ! Museum. In the same way, if Robert Louis Stevenson's admirers believe in his books as they pretend to do they ought to be content to let thtm speak for him to future generations. The Harris and Sala memorials certainly stand on a different footing. The work of both men was ephemeral, and some reminder of it may be desirable. I say may be desirable, because many people one knows don't think it is. Still, there's no harm in admirers of the journalist and manager i erecting tokens of their regard to them pro-' viding persons who do not consider them essential can withhold subscriptions without exciting invidious remarks. The chief complaint about the Harris business seems to be that the promoters care a good deal more re advertising themselves than perpetuating his memory. DEATH OF SIR JOSEPH CROWE.

The present generation knows Sir Joseph Crowe, who died in Germany on Thursday at an advanced age, principally as an eminent diplomatist; but many years before he gained fame in this capacity he was celebrated as a journalist, art critic, and war correspondent. His Excellency's father held the position of Paris correspondent on the ' Morning Chronicle,' and one of his son's earliest recollections was of the Revolution of IS3O. When he began to grow up Joseph Crowe himself served the ' Chronicle' in various subordinate capacities, and was also on the ' Daily News' for a short time. He did not, however, make any real mark till he went to the Crimea for the ' Illustrate! London News.' During 1854 and 1855 he sent Home letters which became the feature of that journal. His reminiscences of the great war (subsequently published) are also replete with vivid sketches of scenes and men. For masterly brevity no description of the Balaclava Charge excels the following : —" At this moment we saw the Light Brigade in mot ion; they were charging down the valley, straight at the battery which lay across it. We could hear the heavy sound of the horses as they broke out of trot into canter and full gallop, and presently we could see some of the men returning who had been dismounted early in tho movement. Lord William Paulett came up to Colonel White, and, bending his head towards us, said : ' Poor Charteris ! He and I wore just riding side by side and a round Bhot ricocheted over me, took the button off my cap, and knocked his head off' ; and he showed his cap, aud the torn place where the button had been. The Nolan came galloping past üb, erect, and apparently unhurt, when suddenly his charger swerved, and he fell, without any apparent cause. He was dead ; had been killed seconds before by a round shot, aud rode, dead as he was, with his grip so strong that he only fell when his horse turned. Then . the artillery fire against us ceased. . . . The Light Brigade, or rather what remained of it, came back in little scattered sections, pursued by Cossacks, who halted at a respectful distance from us." After his return from the Crimea young Crowe was once more adrift. He had won a reputation of a limited kind, but his prospects were gloomy, and he had no settled occupation. He went out to India, and secured an appointment there as director of an art institution. Then the Mutiny broke out, and he took up the editorship of a Bombay newspaper and acted as correspondent for English journals. When h3 had profitably established himself in India his health broke down, and he had to leave precipitately; but luck was with him. No sooner had he returned to Eogland to start his career afresh than the war between Austria aud the French and Piedmontese occurred. 'The Times' sent him with the Emperor Francis Joseph, and he was present at the defeat of Solferino, of which he gave a graphic account. After that campaign ' The Times' paid him much honor, and offered him a reportership at five guineas a week ! He declined, and at the instance of Bernal Osborne offered his services in any capacity to Lord John Russell, who sent him, at 30s a day and expenses, on a confidential mission to report on political matters in the German Confederation. This was the starting point of a long and successful diplomatic career.

Time and tied—The "wedding day.