LONDON GOSSIP.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXX, Issue 3783, 4 July 1899, Page 2

LONDON GOSSIP.

(From “M.A.P.”)

THE HEIRS OF BARON HIRSCH. A few days before the death of Baroh Hirsch, the Emperor of Austria, iu recognition of the magnificence of her charities, conferred the title of Baron upon young MM. Arnold and Raymond de Forest, the only children of the late Baron. With a generosity beyond all praise, the deceased' Baroness had adopted both lads as her own sons, even during the lifetime of her husband. With the latter’s granddaughter, Mile. Luciennc Hirsch, now about seventeen years of age, they may share the immense fortune left by the Baroness. Luciennc, according to French law, labours under the same disabilities as the two young De Forests. She is the daughter of the late Baron’s only legitimate son, Lucien, who died in 1887, at the age of thirty, Lucien fell in love with a girl by the name of Premelic, who occupied a quasimenial position in the household of the Baroness. Lucien went through a religious ceremony with her in France, where he made his home at the time. But his parents declined to give their consent to their match, 'consequently he was debarred by French law from going through the civil portion of the ceremony, which is absolutely necessary* in order to render a matrimonial union valid in Franco. The child is, therefore, in the eyes of the French law, illegitimate. Baron and Baroness Hirsch undertook her education on the condition of her complete separation from her mother, who is now married to an Italian. THE BARONESS HIRSCH. The full truth as to the terms of the will of the Baroness Hirsch have vet to be stated authoritatively. Meantime, I have heard a largo number of friends rather complain that all the talk about her wealth and charity- are calculated rather to obscure her higher qualities. She was a woman of singular intellectual as well as moral gifts; of a character, indeed, so lofty as to bo scarcely credible by a selfish generation. Her conduct, for instance, to the two sons of her Husband—cherishing them, loving them, giving them magnificently of her wealth —is an instance of self-sacrifice—of sacrifice of pride, jealousy, all the mean, and yet all the natural, temptations of a woman and a wife, of which there are iew examples in the history of the world. Her great fortune, as great as that of mine smaller States, was managed under her own control and directions entirely. a. is true that she had the assistance and advice of Mr George Herring—and she could not have had a wiser or a straighter counsellor,; but, after all, she retained the main responsibility herself; Her time was spent in charity; and let it be understood all that this thus in- 1 volvod. It means that she did iiot send a pound or a thousand pounds- to this man or that institution; but that she' went tnrough her correspondence asking for assistance as a business man goes through his letters ; that she devoted time; ate tention, made inquiries, pondered over all these, applications, and did so-every day of her life. All this, too,-she did long after she knew that mortal disease‘had seized hold of her, and that, for her, life and the world were over. Finally, be .it remembered that she hated ostentation ; that her name did not appear in newspapers; that for all the world of, show, luxury, self-enjoyment, she had a loathing; and you have a quite heroic typo of woman. Tmodern INSTANCE IN THE SLUMS. The Crewe wedding has had one un-looked-for result (writes a South London rector’s wife). On visiting a carman’s wife the next day, in a poor little'street in my parish, I found discomfort and discontent. The" room was in a muddle. Its occupier wore a look of savage resolution. “What is the matter?” .“I went to the wedding yesterday. 1 I was once in Lord Rosebery’s service” (gloomily), “before I had the misfortune to marry.” “Don’t call it a misfortune," “But I do. When I saw the Dukes ahd Duchesses riding-by in all their' glory, specially the Duchess of "Cleveland, I made up mind as I couldn’t put rip with Bloggs no longer. Ho’s so big, and such a hearty eater, and so common, and- bo fills the whole place, and I’m a-going!”. Tableau, and discomfited 1 retirement' ofvisitor, all proffered comfort being declined; (N.B. —The lady has since settled down.) ’ AN ADVENTUROUS PRINCE. I see it stated that, after all, the future husband of the young Queen of Holland' is not finally chosen, and that the young lady has imitated her sisters of humbler degree by showing to her admirers all the capricies and vacillations which distinguish the maid before she has finally made up her mind to be conquered. Prince William of Wied has always been supposed to be practically chosen, but it is now said that the young fair-haired, strong-willed and wilful lady is, inclined to turn her attention to another young prince, who is said to have booh making sheep’s eyes at her- for a long time. The new aspirant is Prince Eugene of Sweden. These Swedish royalties arc all adventurous, curious, unrestrained, unconventional beings. The Queen, as everybody knows, is practically a Salvation lass; and the Crown . Prince is almost ready to go down the

slums at the head of a - band"and; preach the gospel. Another prince, as’is well knownrenounced all. his royal privileges in order to mary a young maid of honour wnfl whom he had fallen in love.-

' PRINCE EUGENE, Prince Eugene is even more democratic. I remember seeing.him in Norway some years ago. He was wandering over the hills like scores of other tourists; had two companions only; sat down at , a small table in the country inns in the evening to his plain meal of tea and fish, or, perhaps, to a glass of mild beer, and went about without either looking for or receiving any more attention tftan anybody else. When he gets away from his father’s territory, he, is even more unrestrained. He ohee spent,uiree years in the Latin quarter of Paris, studying sculpture; and not long ago he was an art student in Florence, living among students, and refusing all intercourse with Royalties. This would be tnc kind of prince that ought to/win the love of a romantic girl. A RITUALISTIC DUKE. The beautiful church of St. Mary the Virgin, at Clumber, the Nottinghamshire home of his Grace the'Duke of Newcastle, is the home of elaborate services. When the building was first opened iu October, 1889, the startling ritualism practised in it provided matter for much enigmatic gossip in the neighbourhood of the “Dukeries.” But gradually the innovation became quite easy and fashionable, and other places in the locality followed suit. And now, many of the churches in the diocese of, Southwell, treading in the footsteps of the'Duke of Newcastle, have adopted the customs tnat would sadden the heart of Mr Kensit. CLUMBER CHURCH. The church in Clumber Park is a cathedral on a small scale, and cost the present Duke' ovpr £40,000. The interior is extremely ornate, with a strong flavour of the Brompton Oratory. There are Madonnas by Correggio, Tintoretto, and Battoni, and in the north transept there is a well-constructed , confessional! The most important day of the year at Clumber is October 23rd, when the Dedication Festival is celebrated. It is then that the ceremonial 'is most, elaborate, and then that the Duke appears to bo in his happiest mood. There are ; High Church clergymen in gorgeous vestments, acolytes, and banner-bearers galore. The famous Father Black lias, more than once, taken part in the service here.

HIS GRACE IN PROPRIA PERSONA. The Duke is not what may be called' a popular man—not nearly so .popular as his neighbour, the Duke of Portland; but he is greatly esteemed by those who know him.; ..The study has more fascination for him-than the platform, the racecourse, or . the Court. After his church, ‘scientific photor "•tphy is, his greatest joy. In, person, he is unccmmonly short and insignificant - looking; but he has;a fine, thoughtful face, as becomes a man of? considerable learning and artistic taste. By reason of an accident in his infancy, he has always been incurably lame. .He is yet on good terms with youth,- being only in his thirty-fifth year. ■

VILLIERS STANFORD AS OPERA , COMPOSER. Professor Villiers Stanford, ; who has ben ■ urging the establishment'of a Na-tional-Opera House so ; energetically, in '“The Times”-lately, has himself composed three grand operas, two of which,, “The Veiled- -Prophet” and “Savona-rola,’’-were first produced in Germany—,a sufficiently- eloquent comment on Mr Stanford’s contention that native opera has no chance in this country—while third, ‘‘The Canterbury Pilgrims,” was brought, out .in, ,Drury Lane in 1886. More recently, his delightful comic opera, “Shamus O’Brien,” was produced at th-.* Opera Comique,. and had;ft capital run. In appearance, Mr Stanford is tall and thin, with stooping shoulders, folding eye - glasses, and intellectual face a musical Mr Balfour, as, he has been waggishly described. Born in Dublin, in 1852, his father was an examiner to the Irish Court of' Chancery; Young Stanford’s bent , for, music mr.de' itself plain from the outset, and in due course he. went to, study in Germany. .where he ‘made' innumerable friends among leading musicians. ■ Probably he is l best known, to the man -in the street by his setting of Tennyson's “Revenge,” in regard to which he himself tells an interesting story of Lord Tennyson. TENNYSON AND THE RHYTHM. In the lines of the poem : “Was he devil or man ? He was devil for aught -they knew,” Stanford’s music originally made the word “devil” higher in tin question than it was in the answer, while the word “they” was unaccented. Tennyson. corrected this at once, saying that tho second “devil’* must be higher and stronger than the first, aild that the “they” must be marked. Oii another occasion (tells the Professor) Tenyson gave am interesting hint as to the correct rhythm in the famous line “Let the bell be tolled,” from the “Ode on the Duke of Wellington.” , This he read with a strong emphasis on the first as well as on the .third and fifth words, ■observing that it wanted three strokes to the bell, not two. A POET’S GENEROSITY.

A striking instance - of Lord Tennyson’s generosity, Mr Stanford likewise

has placed on record. . When he had prepared his incidental music for Queen •Mary” at the Lyceum, in 3876, the manager complained that the many orchestral players required would mean sacrificing two whole rows of stalls. Whereupon Tennyson, quite ; unknown to the young composer, offered to bear the expense of the sacrificed seats himself, during the run of the piece. Naturally, Mr Stanford has a predilection for Irish music. He is certainly one of the most accomplished composers now before the public.. Dr Stanford succeeded Sir George MacFarren as Professor of Music at Cambridge University, while his work as director of the operatic, class at the Royal College of Music, and as conductor of the Bach choir, is well known. 7 IX PERIL OF DEATH. Marie Corelli has made no fuss about her recent close fight with death. The assertion of self - advertisement so frequently and so unjustly levied against her in some quarters, will, probably account for the fact that the serious nar ture of her illness was not more widely known. A line in one or two of the journals announced that she was ill and had undergone an operation, but that was all. . Another rumour said she was “convalescent” at the very time she was in most danger! With that strange shrinking from publicity which is almost a mania With her, Miss Corelli refused to allow the public to know how practically she had herself carried cut. under the severest conditions, the theories of‘'willpower” she inculcates in. her books, nor liow bravelly she walked to the terrifying operating table and laid herself down upon it,, before'the anaesthetic was administered, with a smile and kind word for all.concerned in the work. Sir John Williams and Mr William Meredith had both given opinions on her case, hilt with characteristic individuality and pluck she finally chose one of her own sox for her surgeon. Mrs M.ary Scharlieb, M.D., M.S., of 149,' Earley street, was the surgeon to whom she turned, and Dr Scharlieb was the person to whom she . said cheerily, as she entered the operatingroom: “Well, if I die undorjit, I know it will not be your fault!” !i MARIE CORELLI’S EW BOOK. ; Miss, Marie Corelli will be but a very - short time in town. She has taken 1 a : beautiful old house at Stratford-on-Avon,' 1 where she will complete the work she has promised to her publishers. The completion of this book has twice been untowardly interrupted—first by her own illness, and then by the shock of Mr Mackay’s sudden death, which leaves her, who so enthusiastically sought to make him great, entirely alone in the world. She has one, close friend, Miss Bertha Vyver, who has resided wiui her since the very beginning of her career. The subject of her new novel, I hear oh good authority, is entirely different to what some of the papers have report id it to be, and the title is not yet decided upon. lam sorry to say, however, that it will not be produced till next year, and in the meantime Miss Corelli is refusing al} fresh' offers of work.

MRS MACKAYS WONDERFUL . PARROT. Mrs Mackay, the 1 “Bonanza Queen,” during her absence from London, provided the public with a gratuitous ''enter? tkinment of a most diverting nature. her open window in’ Carlton House terrace was a wonderful greert parrot'which attracted hundreds .of people every day to hear him talk. •; The cfowd one Sunday was so great-that, the policeman had to request the people . to “move on.” “Move 0n,.”, echoes the parrot’to the intense delight of-the mob. “Polly,' what is o’;clpck?” asks a .man. " The parrot,' pretending to look at the clock, cries out in answer,:. “Half-past five ! ’’ and he was right. I asked him how his mistress was ? “Coming oyer soon; all right”’ replied the marvellous bird. “How bid are you, Polly?” “Don’t knowhow old are you?” was the answer, which, of course, provoked great merriment, in which the parrot ioined. Asked what day of the week it was, the wre>.— hopped about screaming, “Sunday, go to prayers! Ora pro nobis.” And fell into a paroxysm of laughter, which ,wa,s quite contagious. MARGUERITES AT WESTMINSTER. The House of Commons was a remarkable proof of the interest the, CrewePrimroso wedding had excited in political circles. There was scarcely a man of prominence on the Liberal side who did. not wear in his coat a bouquet of primroses and marguerites; the one a testimony to the surname and the other to the Christian name of the bride. On the front Opposition bench the faces and the-clothes of Sir Henry Campbell-Ban-nerman and Mr Asquith almost blazed with the splendour of wedding garments; but it was not unnoticed that Sir William Harcourt, sitting in his corner seat, glum, watchful, preparing to pounce on the Budget of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, was utterly devoid of any sign of rejoicing. Mr Morley, I believe, was at the wedding, but the sombre blue and drabs which ho always wears, were unrec lieved by any sign of the guest at a wedding feast. THE LONDON LETTER,

I wonder who it was that invented tlie-now prominent feature of the provincial journal the; London letter I am inclined to think that one of the nrst, if not the very first, to send, it was Sir Edward Russell. The distinguished editor of the Liverpool Daily Post, who was entertained by the press circle of the Na-

tional Liberal - Club on Saturday night last related in the course of a characteristically graceful and interesting speech, one or two : very' curious details of his early journalistic career. When he was on the editorial staff of the old “Morning Star,” ho used to bo in daily intercourse with Lord Clarendon, the Minister for Foreign Affairs; and in that position ho was told a great deal which he was at liberty to use. But in those days of? high and dry journalism, the personal, and other items which he thus gathered would ' not Bq allowed' admission to the columns of any great London daily; and Sir Edward used to send them to the “Scotsman.” The Scotsman was only too delighted to get these interesting bits;, used to send Sir ■ Edward Russell in cheque monthly, always generous in. amount ; but regulated, not by the length but by the importance of the contribution. For instance, he would sometimes get five pounds for a few lines, sometimes only a guinea and a half for halt or three-quarters of a column. It shows that thus early the proprietors and conductors; of that most successful journal knew good copy "when they got it, and appraised it on true journalistic principles. ,

HER MAJESTY’ BREADTH OF MIND. “What do you talk to the Queen about ?” was. asked of a frequent visitor at the Roy a t table. “Everything,” was his reply. “Everything and anything. There is no topic of the day on which Her Majesty is ignorant. She appears interested in ; everything, and accepts all now ideas and views with a. largo - inindodness which is simply astonishing in a, woman'.of her ago.” Many instances could be given to confirm this last statement, but the following subject will suffice as, illustration. “May ladies smoke?” has been an oft-debated question, and it is still, classed among the “fast” occupations in'whicli the fair sex indulge. But a trivial incident has recently come to light, which shows how Her Most Gracious Majesty regards this practice. Ono of her daughters was recently leaving the Royal borough, and, arriving too soon ai: the 1 ■ station, was detained in the Rival waiting - room,’ round which the usual crowd, anxious'to see the princess had gathered. When finally the train had f departed, a. porter emerged from Hie waiting - room with a. curious smile on his face, and handed something to the statiomnaster, saying, “I found ft on (he floor.” ;. s. It was a silver cigarctt i case, on which was engraved the name of the princess, ,and T f“From;her Mother.” ’ TOM > T EDLEY. ' Ono of the last of the Irish wits'of the old school;, if not the last, has passed away.. Everybody hi Dublin knew, and there wcro ; very few that did not love, Tom. Nedlcj;. A courtier, an office - holder, probably a Unionist, a lover of the song and the wine cup—“fill up the <iup with Samian wine” exactly described his mood towards the all tumults and agitations', and changes of his country —though he was all these things which make most men unpopular with Irishmen, I don’t believe Tom Ncdlcy had an public or private. There wan an infectious good humour, a rollicking air, a heart in the fellow that made every Irishman take to him at once. Tall, well proportioned, with fine deep brown byfri, always full of lift, and not uudapable of emotion, he was a splendid specimari of an Irish gentleman. He had almost to the; end a, beautiful voice, » keen appreciation of Irish humour, a really .wit,'■miihetic ‘powers, and a quick ear, so that he could give you the thirty - two different accents of the thirty two counties of Ireland. In, His stories, which rolled out ini a perennial; stream, you saw and heard all the characters as in a play with many players, §o well was he able to make his characters live by his wonderful powers. He lived till nearly his eightieth year, which is proof of what a splendid creature he was, for no man of his: time was ever allowed to so seldom, dine at his own table, arid Irish hospitality is proverbially lavish and death - . dealing. Peace to his ashes; kind, rollicking, brilliant fellow that he was.