A Letter from London

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 20107, 28 March 1928, Page 3

A Letter from London

Special Correspondent.

All Rights Reserved.

LONDON, Feb. 4. Haig and Foch It is sometimes said that the biggest thing the late Lord Haig did as a soldier was in consenting to become subordinate to Marshal Foch in the conduct of operations on the Western Front. I well remember the sensation occasioned in London when announcement of the change was published. There were many who shook their head and predicted friction between the respective commanders. So far from there being any danger of this I was assured at the time, on very high authority, indeed, that it was at the instance of Lord Haig himself that the change was made. Certainly no one could have accepted it more loyally than he did. And the men who thereby owed him a debt of lifelong gratitude are not likely to forget that debt now he is dead. King Albert of the Belgians and Marshal Foch himself (to mention only two) are amongst those who are expected at his funeral. Lost War Leaders It is rather remarkable that on the army side we should have lost so many of our great figures in the war while our great naval heroes should still fortunately be spared to us. Lord Haig was exceptional in one respect. Unlike so many of his colleagues either o fthe Army or of the Navy he never came into public controversy with the politicians and I shall be surprised if when his papers come to be published they will reveal any of that personal acrimony which jars in the records of others. Yet he had much latent pugnacity and was at the same time more sensitive than others ox the great soldiers of the time. Many of the obituary writers speak as if his natural reserve were the same thing as the unlikcable quality of aloofness. I know one distinguished soldier who would be furious at any such suggestion. To those immediately associated with him he was the most kindly of men and took a great interest in their small personal concerns which was rather cheering when bigger things were on foot.

Mr Lloyd George’s Return Now that Mr Iloyd George has restored his health by his sea voyage, and has got the party report on industry out of the way, his friends hope that he will be able to give his attention to his Parliamentary duties during the coming session. With Sir John Simon away and Mr Runciman taking only occasional part in debate, the little squad of Liberal members are more dependent than ever on having their leader in their midst, not merely on important occasions but on almost all occasions. After all, the House of Commons remains the best advertising ground for a political party, and if the Liberals hope to see their candidates do better at by-elec-tions, they can only be gratified if their Parliamentary representatives are active. It is no use their trusting to Mr Ernest Brown or Mr Percy Harris, for though they are indefatigable, the House does not listen to them, and the newspapers do not report them. Mr Lloyd George is the one Parliamentary Liberal in whom the country is interested, and if he is otherwise engaged, the situation from the Liberal point of view is hopeless.

A Second Chamber Reformer. Lord Seibourne, who is returning to London in preparation for the Parliamentary session, is probably the most ardent advocate of Second Chamber reform, and if the Government fail to deal with it he will want to know the reason why. He has a personal grievance against the present system. As Lord Wolmer he sat in the House of Commons as member for West Edinburgh and when he succeeded to his peerage h e along with Lord Middleton (then Mr St. John Brodrick) and I think the late Lord Curzon made a valiant effort to be spared what he regarded and still regards—as exile. But the authorities held that though he was the son of a former Lord Chancellor his law was faulty and he had to go. His happiest time since he left the Commons was during his period as Gov-ernor-General of South Africa, a post which he held during a decisive time. H c has a pleasant if no means large property in Hampshire and is keenly interested in farming. His wife is a daughter of the late Lord Salibury, so that he has political relations almost too numerous to count. At Claridge’s When the King and Queen of Afghanistan leave Buckingham Palace at the end of their formal State visit they will stay at Claridge’s Hotel, of which the entire first floor has been reserved for their Majesties and suite. As the suite numbers about fifty persons the accommodation will not be excessive. Despite intensive up-to-date competition, and the fact that it is tucked away in a side street, Claridge’s still maintains its prestige as the smartest and most exclusive West End hotel. American millionaires and dollar kings may go to the Ritz or the Savoy, but Loyalty heads for Claridge’s. The Queen of Spain and King Fuad arc among recent visitors who have stayed there. The Royal suite is decorated in mauve, green and silver, and has its own private dining-room. The late Mr Pierpoint Morgan, however, was not content either with Claridge’s or the Ritz. He used to breakfast at the former and lunch at the latter, always taking a taxi to make the three or four hundred yards journey, and handing the admiring taxi-driver a £1 treasury note. Prince Annoyed.

I hear that the Prince of Wales was really annoyed about the use of his name on certain dance school posters recently displayed about the West End. The facts are that H.R.H., who takes great pains to keep his dancing correct and up-to-date, has had private lessons but has not, of course, attended ordinary classes. He gave no authorisation tor the use of his name as a business advertisement. H.R.H. is proportionately grateful to the bill posting company, who promptly deleted his name from the posters directly the matter was brought to their notice. A personal expression of thanks has, I understand, reached them. It would be really

a joke if the bill posting company now advertised themselves as “patronised by H.R.H, the Prince of Wales!” Notwithstanding the temptation, there are few cases where Royal patronage is abused by tradesmen. And alas! the old pastrycook’s off Coventry Street, with the bow-window and the announcement “Mullin maker to the Royal Family” is no more. Reckless G.B.S. Mr Bernard Shaw, I see, has been writing on the intriguing subject of his cycling and motor-cycling experiences. It is difficult to associate philosophy with wheels and engines, and the conception of the doughty G.B.S. careering on anything other than his own two sedate legs is difficult to entertain. As a matter of fact, however, Mr Shaw drives his own car with all the recklessness of a young spark, and among his very intimate friends is sometimes referred to by the shockingly common cognomen of “Reckless Reggie.” There you have something ror the high-brows to weep over! It is an extraordinary thing that, although Mr Shaw can drive his car forward, he simply cannot reverse it. The temperament required for backward motion is obviously not his. He is therefore invariably accompanied by a chauffeur who does the “backing” for him, and incidentally sees to any break downs. Repairing broken engines simply doesn’t appeal to Mr Shaw.

Sovereignty of the Air Official information points, to the fact that 1928 will be a year of great activity in the air. But though Russia is launching a programme which looks to have very sinister possibilities, and Japan contemplates a national air transport company, with a capital of a million, backed by the Government, the two nations whose enterprise really competes for the sovereignty of the air are Germany and America. This year seven new regular services between important cities will be opened up by the U.S.A. Yet America’s civil aviation will be second to that of Germany, who holds the record with 12,377,933 miles flown during 1927. The Germanic ambition extends to the air equipment of other countries. German enterprise may develop the aviation of Persia, Switzerland, the Scandinavian countries, Arabia, and Peru. And the German Government is contemplating a further grant of 2,000,000 marks for airship research. The Speaker’s Strain

Like the Archbishop of Canterbury and other occupants of high offices, the Speaker of the House of Commons is liable to annoyance by periodical reports of his impending retirement. A good deal of nonsense is talked about the “strain” on the presiding officer of the House of Commons. On committee days Mr Whitley is finished by four o ’clock, although he has to remain within hail in case he should be needed for the suspension of a disorderly member. On normal occasions his eight hours in the chair arc interrupt, ed by half-an-hour or so for tea —one of his predecessor’s wise innovations—and the better part of two hours for dinner. In former days the Speaker’s only break was a hurried half-hour for his evening meal, while the House informally adjourned. It is true that Mr Whitley has a good deal of work before the House meets, censoring doubtful questions and studying the relevancy of amendments. But hc has counsel, a secretary, and the clerks of the House to save him the routine business. Altogether, the Speaker of to-day has an easy time compared with his forerunners. The New Marteno With the improved outlook for peace in industry and the marked decline in activities of our Red extremists, the Metropolitan police appear to be somewhat “behind the bus” in their latest preparations to guard against disorder. The erection of a kind of 20th century Martcllo tower in Trafalgar Square might be an admirable device were we really on the threshold of some national upheaval, but in this year of grace and public sanity it appears to be an altogether needless extravagance. The tower itself takes the guise of a rather bulky kiosk, but is of a stoutness of stone and iron to withstand a veritable siege. It is pierced with loopholes, through which the officer on duty may survey any part of the square, and is fitted with telephonic communications to police headquarters, so that he may marshal his forces according as h e dooms expedient. The watch tower may, of course, at some time of altogether unforeseen disturbance, justify its existence. In the meantime, its presence seems to strike a blow at the prestige of our “men in blue,” who hitherto have found the armour of their moral courage sufficient to protect them against the exuberances of Trafalgar »Squar e hot heads. Limbless Legion. .Someone remarked the other day how strange it is, considering that apart from killed our war casualties numbered nearer two than one million, how few men are seen about with evidence of wounds. My owu experience is rather different. At the West End of London any fine afternoon one meets scores of obviously,maimed men. The West End clubs are full of them, and make provision in some cases, in the form of nail brushes secured to the wall for those men with only one arm. Only a few days ago I got into a bus in Piccadilly, and found, not counting myself, four inside passengers with pronounced shrapnel legs. Altogether there are, I believe, just under 50,000 men in this country who have lost one or more limbs. We treat these relies far more generously than any other nation except the Americans. In Russia an allowance of only 5s is made for old soldiers who need an artificial leg or arm. We allow all men who have lost an eye two artificial ones per annum. A Lawrence Film Even under his now famous disguise as an Air Force.private Colonel T. E. Lawrence seems to keep well in the public eye. Copies of “The Seven Pillars of Wisdom” have been dropping in price lately, and yesterday one

failed to fetch £4OO at an auction, but the original 30-shilling “Revolt in the Desert” is apparently going at five guineas now that the type is broken up. Negotiations have been going on for some time for the film rights of the book, or rather of the two books. One American company i s reputed to have offered so much as £30,000 for the chance of filming it, and Rex Ingrain, among others, was supposed, from his interests in the Arabs, to bo an anxious party to the negotiations. It is now announced, however, that a British company hn s secured the rights, and will proceed to make a film, probably with the assistance of Lawrence himself, in the original scenery of the events described. Mr H. A. Weathcrcll, W’ho made “The Somme, “Robinson Crusoe,” and Livingstone,” is mentioned as the director of the picture.

Unique Rugby Club A football club which has been in existence for 37 years without a ground and without its members paying any subscription or entrance fees, seems like a flight of Gilbertian fancy. Yet that is the record of the Barbarians, for whom practically all the most famous stars of the game have at one time or another played. They are simply a touring organisation, expenses being met by guarantees from the clubs on whose grounds matches are played. Usually, there are two tours each season —one at Christmas and one at Easter—and the Easter tour is invariably in South Wales, where the Bar-Bars are ever welcome guests. There should be a remarkable gathering of past and present Internationals at the re-union dinner, which is to be held in London on the night of the England v. Scotland match, March 17. The dinner is a now idea, but Mr H. A. Haig Smith, the secretary, tells me that it is proposed to make it an annual event, alternately after the Scottish and Irish matches at Twickenham. Great Gathering Even if only half of the famous BarBars of the past turn up, this will be the most remarkable Rugby gathering that has ever been seen. For the club has always embraced International players from all countries. Originally, the membership was limited to 65, and in 1891 a rule was passed that all members should resign annually, but, before should elect 50 new members, the 15 vacancies to be filled by the committee. In 1909 the limit of 65 was abolished but the curious rule of 1891 still stands. Why it should do no one exactly knows. If the clubs had a slogan, I suppose it would be: “Once a Bar-Bar, always a Bar-Bar,” so the idea of everybody resigning every year seems slightly superflous. One of the original members, Mr A. Allport, is to preside at the first dinner of this very remarkable club, whose influence on Rugby football, especially in South Wales, has been much greater than most people imagine.