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Passar bra ihop. I protested, but the damage was done, and doubt was sown in the young mind. At eleven I had spotted a fatal flaw in two religions. It greatly distressed the Church of England vicar when a serious minded 12 year old called on him and asked for a belated baptism. He doubted if it were legal and said he might get into serious trouble. So might I, I said, if my parents found out. In fact, when I finally decided to confide in my father, he was more concerned as to what would happen if my grandparents found out. Anyway when I was older I would be mature enough to make up my own mind.
What ultimately put me off the healthy sanitised version of Christianity offered by the Church of England was the fact of finding it too had feet of clay, though in this case one should say feelings of flesh. The curate had enthusiastically espoused my case and offered to take me for baptism classes and even stand as godfather.
I could not understand why my schoolmates grinned over his interest and put it down to cynicism at religious enthusiasm. When I ran into the curate in the street one day he was with one of the few Catholic boys who had made their way to my new school — most went on to the Jesuit grammar school if not too poor, as usually the St Edmunds boys and girls were unable to be committed to stay at school longer than He was a very good-looking boy, far too beautiful for his own good, but I thought it was his soul the curate was after.
When I learned otherwise, and even then it had to be explained to me, I was disgusted. In my defence I can only say the world was sixty years younger then as well. Upstairs on a bus of the old open-top style with a German boy, Oscar, my age, about ten at the time. I got quite heated trying to correct him but we had to get off at our destination, clearly to his disappointment, and we rushed to ask my grandfather who this great Oscar was.
I did not know what it was, but I was duly horrified and for years quite unjustly believed that about Wilde, even after I knew his story,. As for poor Oscar, to whom I secretly imparted the thrilling but incomprehensible accusation, he must have heard the word many times afterwards in Germany, and may have been equally confused.
His father incidentally was under suspicion with the Nazis for a time — I never learned why — but managed to clear himself, which was disastrous as if he had not done so his son might not have been accepted by the forces. He died on the Russian front twelve years later defending a regime he and his entire family detested. My father, Sid, had originally wanted to be a printer, and thought he was about to commence work at 14 on a free apprenticeship when the father he had presumed dead returned after a dozen or so years absence to take command of the family and raise more children.
For years Sid had thought himself an orphan. His mother had taken in mangling and raised three boys. Joe put him to woodworking though incapability of carpentry was hereditary in the family and Sid turned to odd jobs like photography. The war saved him. He took to cars and afterwards to driving lorries. He hated to be called a lorry driver. It listed overnight lodgings and transport caffs long before the motorways, one really had to know the roads and could get well puzzled for overnight stays.
During the war they provided much better meals than the restaurants and in larger quantities than the average ration book family could provide. Because the magazine got people together — it never pretended to unionise them — boycotts could be very effective. It lasted a long time until the boycott system brought in standards. It was an eye-opener to me at an early age. When during the depression they had them in those far off days wages were slashed, it would have been sheer philanthropy to work on the roads self-employed so low were rates cut plus the fact that a driver often had to pay for his own van boy in order to get through the deliveries in time — there was no shortage of school leavers at five shillings i.
The drivers finally agreed on the number of miles to say Birmingham, allowing for new roads, and the employers tended to check with other drivers rather than send out their own surveyors. Otherwise drivers would have gone under. As it was they tended to be among the aristocracy of workers during the pre-war depression, particularly in London. But somehow many managed to have a strong inferiority complex when faced with clerical workers earning perhaps a quarter of what they did, but dressing formally to do so. As with many other things, I was told I would understand better when I got older, but I never did.
When he came out of the Army after World War I, my father felt liberated from such dead-end jobs as free-lance photography, and moved from Tottenham to open a second-hand clothing store in Edmonton. This failed in the depression when we moved back to Tottenham, and he took up lorry driving.
Edmonton was once a reasonably safe Conservative seat though with a growing working-class population, which gradually pushed out the would-be middle class to Bush Hill Park and Enfield. It was represented in Parliament by a man named Chalmers, who was left a legacy by a maiden aunt named Rutherford on condition he perpetuated her name.
The Church of Christ in Every Age
Adding Rutherford to Chalmers seemed no great hardship in exchange for a sizeable sum, our MP must have reasoned, and he dutifully did so. That and the growth of motor traffic killed public meetings stone dead. There may be a handful still living in hope of blissful eternity if present penury. The meetings were addressed by loudspeaker recordings of the earthly founder of the sect, Judge Rutherford, since neither Jehovah God nor his son were available. It was natural that when the familiar name Chalmers did not come up at the election the only time he showed up in the constituency and the electorate thought itself faced with a nutcase Rutherford who believed that the end of the world was nigh, and members of all other religious sects were going to be thrown into darkness, the Edmonton folk reversed the national trend and elected the Labour MP Broad.
He stayed in Parliament almost to the end of his life casting poor Mr Rutherford Chalmers into outer darkness, wondering what had come over local people asking him such absurd questions as to whether he really thought the Pope was anti-Christ and accusing him of speaking differently before the election, as if he ever spoke at all. The staff, though in the main Tories, regarded with abhorrence the idea of a man like Rutherford, who equated the Pope with the Whore of Babylon, being their MP. For some time I thought a whore was something like a Shah and was perplexed to hear grandmother Shelly complaining, when grandfather took my brother and I to the pantomime, about exposing us at a tender age to the wiles of Drury Lane Whores.
Edmonton became a safe Labour seat, and as Mr Broad was getting on, many local Labour hopefuls waited eagerly for him to retire. Edith Summerskill was well known as a local doctor, who finally gave up in despair and started a new national trend by becoming elected for Fulham in a sensational by-election. Other young hopefuls were not so successful. When in Mr Broad finally retired, threatened by Party HQ it was said that if he tried to carry on any longer the Party would have to put him in the House of Lords to finish off the last year or two of his life, the seat went to a carpet-bagger from national politics.
Though by I was again living in Tottenham, I did not want to change my school where I had been a year and being backed by the independent grammar school probably on account of some early promise I never fulfilled the education authorities gave way. Because of this I associated with Edmonton youth activities until When I started to take boxing lessons at that time my colleagues were Tottenham based and most of my Tottenham associations were later to become involved in petty crime.
The Tottenham Communists most of whom lived near me, but whom I only met when they penetrated Edmonton meetings included Ted Willis who like many East End communists used its Unity Theatre to advance himself, becoming a playwright and later a lord after democratic socialist governments were electable. One of the Edmonton hopefuls was a former pupil at the County School, who made his way in the local League of Youth and became a county councillor and a governor of his old school only a few years after he had left it — a fine start for an ambitious man, but that was his highspot.
He was for a time engaged to the sister of a schoolfriend, Peter, who introduced me to socialism a year before I came to reject parliamentary socialism by the unlikely route of my boxing lessons. The Labour League of Youth was then torn between factions, one of which supported its parent body the Labour Party — a similar problem everywhere led to the disbandment by the Party of its youth section. Even at 14 years of age I saw through it but the veterans of the ILP swallowed the line until it swallowed them.
Most of the ILP disappeared. The Pacifists were strongly for the League of Nations Union but later for the Peace Pledge Union when it started many great intellects such as Einstein supported both, not realising that they were contradictory. The fact they had gone to prison for not joining the armed forces did not prevent the occasional magistrate in their midst giving an offender the option of joining the armed services or going to jail. Alan Albon, son of the Mayor, wavered from the Labour Party, though always pacifist. I knew him fairly well when we were at neighbouring schools, in later years more so when he became one of the first liberal pacifists of a now familiar type to describe himself as an anarchist.
She and Fenner Brockway addressed the seminar but she was by far the more dynamic. Typically, both finished not just in the Labour Party but in the House of Lords. I was not the youngest at the meeting even at fifteen but several of us felt, despite its apparent revolutionary commitment, it was letting the CP set the agenda, just trying to modify it to British or more specifically Scottish socialism, while the adult membership were largely nostalgic for the old ILP and wanted to justify its continued existence. Afterwards Alan Albon joined the ILP though its pure-pacifist membership, later to dominate it, was then a minority.
I had meanwhile discovered anarchism and thought I was the first to do so, at any rate of those living. Not all politics, it seemed, was about power, advancement or money, though I recall my Aunt Alice assuring my mother, who worried I was getting mixed up in politics, that quite a good career could be made that way. Paradise Lost and Regained. My religious waverings had been speedily dispersed by the age of thirteen, when I began to read, alongside the Bible, the classics of rationalism, Paine, Ingersoll and the like, as well as being influenced by freethought writers like Shaw and Wells.
I was introduced to freethought by some socialist minded friends at school and never found it got much opposition from our generation, who were all sliding out of established religions if not into clarified rejection of it as well as having a cynical attitude to any of the sentiments and sediments left over from before the twenties, especially patriotism and war. Most of the younger generation, and particularly the imaginative, were sick and tired of hearing about World War I.
Kids were offered bright hopes in schools like the Latymer School, Edmonton, which was perhaps of the best of its kind, and taught hitherto middle class values to the sons and daughters of the working class. Most of them would move into tedious minor office jobs. We were taught of a bright and civilised future for a League of Nations similar to our Commonwealth of Nations if only one learned not to be aggressive.
Ultimately I suppose what was meant by being unaggressive was as a collective part of the nation and as an individual going obediently in response to a mere slip of paper calling them to report for military service. In due course thousands unaggressively joined the regiments that perished in the Dunkirk evacuation; the brightest and boldest went into the RAF and fell in the Battle of Britain. All those who did so, I suppose, are there on the self same Roll of Honour which I have never had the heart to go back and see. Millions died who had never lived. Pacifism and the League of Nations had its effect too on the scientific intelligentsia.
In their pursuit of a non-violent way of solving problems they were to devote their attention to developing the atom bomb which would ultimately make war, and no doubt the human race too, obsolete, but that was still in the future. The choice appeared to many of the thirties generation to be between first peace and war, and secondly between fascism and communism. My decision to go the road of sectarian politics was taken in at the age of 15, as an immediate result of my taking boxing lessons.
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In the end she got impatient and left to fight a hotly-contested by-election largely on the peace issue. During the war she became Home Secretary and afterwards Minister of Health, so she had perforce to abandon her pacifist campaign to be able to conscript people for the Army with a clear conscience, and to support the use of the A-Bomb. She sublimated her pacifism to campaign against boxing, but even in the thirties her influence against it was very strong, and independent grammar schools dared not go against her influence. He turned professional and never lost a fight.
When he lost an eye and retired from the ring he opened a gymnasium in the Edgware Road, not far from Marble Arch. He was passionately devoted to the art of boxing and to the training of young hopefuls. Later Mr Newton trained well-to-do students but also members of youth clubs, and the social mixture kept the venture financially afloat. Occasionally he found, trained and managed a rising professional, but that was a bonus. Bruises, unlike water, showed and I had to convince my parents I was doing weight training.
Many who never learned to fight in the ring came away from the classes able to handle themselves in the street. Contrary to the fashionable Summerskill teaching that pugilism would teach them to be aggressive — a philosophy which has flourished in post-war periods, while football has been glorified and produces all the tearaways until they gave that too a bad image — I found a tolerant atmosphere, contrasting with the bitchiness and spite of the academic circles I later discovered. It meant you were left severely alone by the jeering and accosting crew, who dreaded being individually challenged with fists, even when they were in gangs, for fear of disgrace.
This also applied to girls who took self-defence classes, then more disapproved than being a victim of rape. Boys who might have otherwise drifted to street gangs themselves never did after taking boxing lessons; while even those who drifted into smalltime crime never mixed it with anti-social violence. They might have a go at the police, but mugging as it evolved after the war was unknown, at any rate in our neck of the woods.
Most of those I mixed with in the boxing world were on the left, because the natural enemy was the upper middle class from which the fascists then came, though they recruited hooligans in the working class sector, gradually taking the place of the old street gangs. The boxers, including Andy were often pro-Communist Party, which long before the Molotov Pact or the tanks in the streets of Hungary I never could be.
A cabinet maker and professional boxer, Johnny divided his rare leisure between listening to the speeches at Hyde Park and training at the gym. He was a poet as well as a boxer, and, though inclined to the Communist Party, an admirer of its trenchant socialist critic F. The coincidence made us friends, though we had many differences of opinion, ever since. I gave out leaflets advertising it at school, which earned me a lecture from the Deputy Headmaster, Mr Champion, who asked me where I got my ideas about boxing being any sort of sport, and I produced a history of boxing from the school library which I had on me.
He was quite apologetic before bringing out the cane, and explained it was obligatory on him to act on a request from a colleague. I was told other members of the staff, for whom I did some donkeywork historical research in my spare time for a proposed book of theirs, were quite indignant at the incident, and that may have been the reason for his hesitation, which is a better thought than that he might have been apprehensive at caning a strapping fifteen year old who had lessons from Andy Newton and Johnny Hicks.
Andy never picked me very difficult opponents. However, Johnny, either because he wanted to test me or got fed up with my obstinacy in argument, eventually picked me a first class opponent, partly by mistake, who ultimately demolished both his hopes not to mention myself in the second round. Billy Campbell was a tough young seaman from Glasgow, who packed a punch like a sledgehammer, and had the keenest brain I have ever met.
He danced around me in the ring and all I could do was to take my punishment while the audience of boys, most of whom never came into the ring themselves, roared with delight at seeing yet another big guy being clobbered it seemed less funny to me at the time I admit, but I regained my sense of humour when it happened to someone else. His grandmother Euphemia had often told him of how, when a young servant girl, her employer had confiscated her box and all she had and the old gentleman had recovered it for her, and his lady had found her a job just when she thought she was stranded homeless and penniless in a strange town.
She had married and returned to Scotland, but her English daughter-in-law, now widowed, lived in Edmonton along with Billy, who sailed between London and Bilbao where his girl friend Melchita lived. He had been taught amateur boxing and sectarian politics in Glasgow by Frank Leech, a Lancashire man who had settled in Clydeside in a newsagent shop on his Royal Navy pension and was the mainstay of the Glasgow Anarchists.
So it was I came to accept the principles of Anarchism through the principles learned from the long tradition of Anarchism in Glasgow and the Spanish connection. The Prince of Wales had a few years earlier gone to South America and exhorted England to wake up, with a view to capturing the South American market. As a result Spanish was being taught in schools, even though it was considered a bit of a poor relation.
I made the best progress of my class in Spanish battling against indifferent teaching of the language — so that I could be fit and ready to pass it on to Billy, who was eager to acquire it. I was doing my best to translate articles for him from the libertarian press, not to mention his love letters, when I was still on Selected Texts from Don Quixote, and while still reeling from the voluntary punishment I took in the ring from which he did his best to dissuade me. Between my teaching him Spanish at second-hand and him teaching me Anarchism we formed a friendship which lasted on his side until his early death and I feel until this day.
The speaker was the well-known Emma Goldman, who was on that occasion talking about arms manufacture, not Anarchism as such. As I was the only stranger at the meeting, attention turned to me when enquiries elicited the fact that I had never heard of Emma Goldman and more particularly when I had the temerity to contradict her. I was overawed by my elders being surprised at my audacity, and did not continue after her scornful dismissal of the argument.
She felt thereafter that she had brought me into the movement from knowing nothing about Anarchism and regretted my intransigence in it, which she never appreciated was an integral part of it, for others as well as herself. What was left of the Anarchist movement in was the rump of what had once been an important factor in the British working class movement. As a working class movement with a high proportion of women activists Anarchism had been totally written off; and so ultimately became in more recent times a virgin field for scholars, when the mass production of theses in the booming university industry has used up all the names associated with Marxism and reformism, and those in search of original material are forced to look round for others as near to the standard criteria as possible.
At least it threw so hard a light on any other political persuasion. I never had any illusions about any of them. Years later when the press deigned to take notice of us, if it was not by shock horror but kindly condescension, which I always felt came ill from people who fell for one absurdity after another, whether from State communism, fascism, the prospects for capitalism, reformism, or whatever idol was going around for adulation.
The London Anarchists then were a few veterans, and our appearance among them was somewhat of a cultural shock for both sides. They called themselves the London Freedom Group, met at the Trade Union Club, access to which had been guaranteed by John Turner, editor of the paper and trade union leader. Some tend to think that the paper was continuous from its foundation in , and that the London Freedom Group period did not exist.
The editor John Turner, a trade union secretary in his working hours, had died, and the paper was being run by George Cores and a few others, being printed on a clapped-out press in Chalk Farm by John Humphrey, whose other interest was phrenology. Some old-fashioned atheists then felt it had superseded religion, which is the sort of thing I suppose that old reactionary G.
Billy soon found it too much of a bore, but deputed me to go along and see what turned up there. One of the few who did his best to make it relevant was Mat Kavanagh, who lived in Southend but often came up on a Sunday to speak at Hyde Park, and who was my next mentor in Anarchism. He had worked all his life as a labourer on building sites, propagandising in the open air in his spare time. Later, in his old age during the Second World War, he became a barber — a pretty terrible one by all accounts.
Few of the many brilliant organisers and speakers that I met in those pre-war days achieved so much! The Bohemians thought the Anarchists were eccentric because they worked for a living and yet dissented from the State. Of these were many who attained fame, if sometimes for five minutes and not always that for what they would have preferred.
For instance, there was Count de Potocki, who considered himself rightful King of Poland. In truth, though originally a New Zealand milkman, he did have some sort of a claim to be considered, if the Poles ever decided they would revert to elective monarchy. He admitted though, the Pope would have been surprised if they chose a declared Pagan, whose daughter was being brought up by her mother as a Unitarian, to rule the Catholic kingdom.
He now and again turned up to suggest that monarchy, being the rule of but one, ought not be so abhorrent to Anarchists, as the rule of many. He thought them the largest party in the country, as the group meetings were often twice as big as the local Conservative and Labour parties. He attended all meetings to try to sell his bonds against payment by his court when established. He stopped coming when it was decided he was too much of a bore, and someone emptied half-a-pint of beer over him. When they quarrelled over women Potocki stripped him of all the titles he had conferred on him, and in turn was listed for immediate internment in a concentration camp.
However he neither returned to his kingdom in Poland nor went to Auschwitz. After the war, his poetasting failing, the last of the once feared Potockis returned to his New Zealand milk round. Some of us thought him another nutter like Potocki but he was so convinced he was the great liberator of his country that when he did indeed go back to Kenya after the war, the authorities promptly interned him.
The struggle for independence took place while he was out of the way; but by then everyone took him at face value, and when the government wanted to hand over power to someone who had nothing to do with the Mau Mau resistance, the alleged organisation for which they had imprisoned him, the Colonial Office naturally chose him, perhaps being aware of the utter improbability of their courts having dealt justice.
George H. Morrison
The one in the Freedom Group most in touch with Bohemia was Charles Lahr, a German anarchist who had come to London to avoid military service and stayed forty years. At first there was a suspicion by the police that he had come to shoot the Kaiser, who had unwittingly decided to pay England a visit at the same time, though he did not stay so long. Charlie was shadowed by Special Branch until one cold night he took pity on the detective staying outside the bakery where he worked, and came out to explain to him that the baker himself took sufficient precautions to see none of his nightworkers got away before time either to go playing cards or shoot visiting potentates according to their taste.
A few years later the war broke out and he was interned in Alexandra Palace as an enemy alien and was interviewed by the same detective. In his Bloomsbury bookshop in the twenties and thirties, Charlie had been a focus point for the literary set, a few of whom lingered on when I first met him. Charles Duff was one of them. I think he worked in the Foreign Office at the time but he was an authority on the Castilian and possibly the Catalan language, like Allison Peers.
Both of them had written school textbooks I was using. He was intrigued at my passing on my Castilian lessons to Billy Campbell so he could talk with his Basque girl friend in her own tongue without either of us realising it was a separate language. In those days newsbills used to announce the startling events of the day more prominently than they do now and they were mass printed. Charlie had a trick of slicing them in the middle and sticking them together again — to make up some such headline as Pope to Abdicate or The King to Marry Mae West.
On the 20th anniversary of the Zeppelin shot down at Cuffley, there was to be a memorial service to which distinguished local German residents were invited. Some less than knowledgeable or perhaps cynical Embassy official had sent an invitation to Charlie. He turned up as the herrenvolk had solemnly entered the church, top hats on arms, and set up a soapbox newsstand with a saucer full of coppers, and the banner headline Hitler Assasinated — needless to say, with no papers to back it.
As the procession solemnly came out, von Ribbentrop among them, they looked at the bill and dashed helter skelter for the railway station. When the train came in with the evening paper every copy was grabbed by Embassy officials to the protests of the station master, while indignant shouts came from people pulled out of telephone booths by impatient Nazis wanting to use the phone, but the news of that happy event did not appear for another ten years or so.
I met Mark Gertler not until years after his death did I realise he was a famous artist who was passionately for the Spanish Revolution and said he would kill himself if it were defeated. When Franco won, he committed suicide. So far as I know, no art historian has recorded the reason.
One of the few who had an influence on me for a long time, so far as religion was concerned, was the writer Frank Ridley, whom I first met as a spectator at the boxing ring. We continued to be friends until his death at He was a distinguished if neglected socialist and freethought writer, totally unappreciated by the literary establishment and only recognised by a coterie on the socialist left. He spent five years on a book on the Jesuits, for about five pounds in royalties, which became a standard work of reference for dozens of other writers.
Years later when Jose Peirats was writing his works of reference on the Spanish struggle while earning his living sewing trousers by candlelight, and dignified and overpaid professors were quoting his works in their books written at public expense, I thought of Ridley. The duplicator was re-possessed by the hirers. I did not know then that being a minor I could have repudiated the debt.
I never learned that point of law until I was past 21, too late make use of it. I lived in several compartmentalised worlds when I was fifteen. I was never very good nor did it help my studies much. Languages and history were all I was interested in and I got on well with Spanish despite the total collapse of lessons when an incompetent master resigned and went to work in a South American bank, for which I hope he did not need Spanish. However I emerged streets ahead of everyone in that language, perhaps because I was using it to some purpose.
Once I entered schoolboy amateur boxing championships and to the excitement of my friends at school I reached the semi-finals. I was matched against the local Jesuit college — to face to my dismay an enormous West Indian lad rarely if ever encountered then in our neck of the woods : Rod Strong by nature as well as name , a couple of years older than I was, and solid muscle.
He had furthermore the advantage of two Jesuit priests in black dresses in his corner, clearly praying against me — in contravention, I am sure, of the spirit of the Queensberry Rules. It was like my clash with Billy Campbell all over again. It was partly the inevitable consequence of my skipping practice for political meetings. She must have thought me accident-prone, so often were such alibis necessary.
Rod and I became friends, though he never took the same interest in politics as Billy and myself. He always insisted on my being his second and not going into the ring myself; I was a bit disenchanted with it anyway after exciting so much derision even from kids who had never put a glove on and would have preferred an embroidery class any day. Going along to Hackney Stadium with Billy and Rod to a match, we were quite unexpectedly attacked walking over the marshes by a gang of some two dozen local fascists.
At worst they can only kill you and they would do that anyway if they wanted to and could. We gave a good account of ourselves and left a few noses oozing blood and mouths spitting teeth, but in the end they all ran away because a police car had arrived. I had the presence of mind to take my grammar school cap from my pocket and put it on my head, and to walk up casually to a policeman and ask the way, while my two friends stood by respectfully. It is ironical that when I got home nursing a black eye this was the first occasion my mother rebelled at my explanation that the Blackshirts had attacked me, and insisted that I had been going in for that dreadful sport in spite of her admonitions.
At least, though, I was spared the humiliation of having to say afterwards, as some people did, that they were chased round Hackney by the local fascisti. There were other types of fascist than the Hackney variety. The young men who came from the lower middle class, or at least thought that they did, were quite a different lot: there were one or two even at my school. They were prepared to listen to argument, though in the finish they landed in their natural home, the Conservative Party.
In the country generally they included that displaced minority, the Irish Catholic Loyalist, unwanted by Republicans who thought of them as Castle Catholics, or by Protestants to whom they were Papists nonetheless. They were enthusiasts for General Franco and stayed on in their morass until disillusioned by their other hero Hitler.
There were also a few lower middle class homosexuals who were chasing the rough trade and stuck to fascism in good days and bad. It was, after all, a more congenial hunting ground than prison, and they would never have scored in the Navy. Mosley himself was an upper-class twit who wandered into the Labour Party by accident after meeting working class people for the first time when he was a WW1 officer, a role for which like many of his type he still hankered.
Hamm realised there were a few streets in Bethnal Green which had been a no-go area for police until WWI, around which Jewish immigration had circled but not dared enter. It was isolated from the rest of the East End, and knowing Jews only as landlords or employers in the sweatshops, was intensely anti-semitic. Mosley never knew the difference. In a way he was, but he thought it wider than it really was and it went to his head. He could have come to dominate the Conservative Party as a right wing pressure politician, and with precious little opposition maybe have become Prime Minister. Steve, one of my mates at school who was going on to university, rare then, to study political science, asked me once to take him round the East End.
We ran by accident into a fascist demo. Seeing the way the Mosley motorcade moved through the crowds like a conquering army, though these were called fascist demonstrations, they were really police demonstrations with a kernel of fascists in the middle. Steve, a generous lad, was carried away by indignant remarks around us by elderly market women who had been roughly pushed aside. He picked up a stone and threw it at Mosley as he passed, hand in the air. It missed Sir Oswald and landed on the cheek of a multi-braided police officer narrowly missing his eye.
Steve stood out in a fairly sallow and weedy East End crowd for his height and shock of red hair. He was an excellent athlete, whom I thought of as an accurate bowler until that day, and ran. I got away but it nearly ended in disaster for all when Steve had feelings of guilt at having left me to face arrest on my own and came back looking for me.
It was resolved that the Board of Control should be constituted on the same lines as in , viz. The committee of the M. These will be embodied in a circular to be addressed to the first class counties, together with r; recommendation on the subject of illegal bowling. The "Sportsman" understands that the M. When lie bad reached a height of about yards a large rent suddenly appeared in the envelope.
The te-rror-stricken spectators gave up the aeronaut as lost, but when he was a hundred yards from the surface of the river M. Mousset threw himself from the car and disappeared headlong into the water. When he came up again he was pulled into a boat, being much scared but evidently none the worse for his marvellous adventure. Trade and Shipping. Outward chartering wag inactive. Prompt orders were very scarce, and lates ruled weak, with, in some instances, a downward tendency. Cardiff to Biver Plate, 9s 9d Frode. M Honfieur, 4s 6d, 1, tons Nord- strand.
Portsmouth, 4s Gd, tons. Palermo, or Catania, 5s 3d Clara. Swansea to Marseilles. Foreign Fixtures. There was a much steadier tone in the market for tonnage, with an active demand from Alexandria, and a considerable business concluded at full rates. Fixtures:- Vera, steamer, 3, tons, December-January, Kustendje, 10s, new charter. Schilizzi, steamer, 2.
Turret Bay, steamer, 3. December, Garrucha to Maryport, 8s 3d. Enfield, steamer. Steamer, 2, tons, end December, Ergas teria to Newport, 8s 9d. Movements of Local Vessels. I Sindbad expected to leave Portsmouth. Dawiish passed Diu-geness for Rotterdam 16th. Chiverstone coaled Syra and left for Liver- pool 15til. Eddie arrived Rio de Janeiro from Cardiff 13th. Thordisa arrived Philadelphia from Pernam- buco 13th. Newby arrived Marseilles 13th. Haxby left Las Palmas for Odessa 12th. Curran arrived Rouen 13th. Jones left Algiers from Rotterdam 13th.
Cyfarthfa left Bilbao for Maryport 5ti. Dowlais left Swansea for La Rocheile 14th. Blaenavon left Sunderland for l. Tredegar arrived Swansea 14th.
Collivaud arrived Bilbao 15th. Gardepee arrived Bordeaux 15th. Castanos a. Jersey arrived Penarth 14th. Millicent Knight arrived Leghorn 15th. Coventry arrived Torre Charente 16th. Hawthorn arrived Bordeaux 14th. Gwalia left Cherbourg for the Tyne-loth. Garth left the Tyne for Boulogne 15th. Speir arrived Hennebont 16th. Yearby arrived Colastine 14th. Craigiee passed Constantinople for Braila 15th. Birkdale arrivtd Amsterdam from Odessa 16th. I South Wales Tide Table. Dock Sill. Ainiandra Dock. TBoath Basin.
Shipping Casualties. Victoria, st. Ellamy, British steamer, from Palermo for New York. Bosnia and R-avenswAod. Providcnza R. Depterro and Pluto. Latter returned, portside plates stove in, bulwarks damaged. Dennis, stating that he was instructed by the War Authority to inform the council that the irri- gation ground at Newton would be required about the middle of January, , lor the pur- poses of erecting a rifle range. Jones pro- posed, Mr. Griffin seconded, and it was carried that the clerk write the Local Government I Board enclosing a copy of the letter, and ask- ing when they the Local Government Board will hold the inquiry.
Rhys coroner , held an inquest yesterday at the Ystrad Hotel. Gelli, Rhondda, on the body of Rees Rees, It Appeared that the deceased, when riding on a journey of trams. It was against the rules to ride on the trams. The third wife of Thomas Freer, a man of powerful build, charged her husband before the Marylebone magistrate yesterday with persistent cruelty.
Her story of his ill-usage was a, distressing one. Freer: It ie entirely her own fault. She tantalises me awful. Plowden: You seem to me to be a pre- cious coward. What you deserve is a sound flogging. This certainly raises some suspicion as to how wives number and two came to their end, if anything like the same brutality was meted out to them as to this one.
I shall gra. Family Charged with Murder. Judge Andrews, at Minister Aesizes to-day. The father, mother, and eldest son were each sentenced to fifteen years' penal servitude, the daughter and second son were sent to penal servitude for eleven years, and the youngest sou to ten years' penal servi-, tuda. The Sad Cardiff Case. The painful case of privation which we reported on Saturday in reference to the find- ing of the body of a woman, named Sarah Stevens, in a house in Mary Ann-street, was the subject of inquiry by the Cardiff coroner at the Town-hall last evening.
The deceased, who was about 53 years of age. She was supposed to have died from starvation and the extremely cold weather which has recently prevailed. The first witness called was Ellen Sanders, 17, Rodney-street, with whom the deceased, who was a single woman, had been lodging before she went to Mary Ann-street. About three years ago she suffered from a broken, tumour in the stomach, and was a patient at the infirmary.
Ever since she had been in ill-health, her stomach being imable to con- tain the food she took. Witness saw her on Saturday fortnight, when ehe took her some dinner. She again saw her on the following Monday, when site said she was going out on the succeeding Thursday to get a note for the workhouse. This was a course which witness and her husband had repeatedly advised her to take. Police-constable Thomas Litile described the finding of the boay at No.
It was on a bed which had broken down at one corner, and the woman was on her back in the hole formed. There was a table and a chair in the room, which was the only one furnished. The constable found on the table a tin of syrup and about a quarter of a loaf of bread, and on the mantei-shelf 2sd. Witness also found four pawntickets.
The body was insuffi- cicntly clothed. Maggie Hayes, who keeps a small grocer and confectioner's at No. Little Frederick street, stated that the deceased came to her shop cc'-asionally for milk and patent fuel The last time witness saw her was on Friday afternoon last, when she was looking very ill. The deceased asked for a halfpennyworth of milk. Deceased stated that she was ill and could not eat. Buist stated that there were no external marks of violence on the body. H2 made a post-mortem examination, and found evidence of disease, including recent pleurisy.
The body was vers emaciated, and. He attributed death to heart failure and pleurisy, accele- rated by privation. It could not be said that the woman died from starvation. The Coroner sild the case was a very sad' one The poor creature lived by herself in a wretched room. The jury retamed a verdict in accordance with the medical evidence.
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Business locally lias been fairly brisk to-day, but special attention has been paid to South African Mining Shares, which are firmer on the reports of further brilliant British captures. All departments are firm in tone, particularly Railway Securities. Tuesday Money is in fair request at 5 to 54 per cent. Bombay and Calcutta Transfers 15 Consols are down for Money iii-d i for the Account.
Home Rails steady. North-Western j up. South-Western Ordinary 1. Trunks featureless. In Foreign Shocks Argentines are easier at a decline of I to 1. Mining Shares are easier on realisations, but a good tone prevails in South Africans. Brilliant St. Boston Copper.. Africa 3j. Chartered 2]1 iM. Telegraphic Addreas: "Contango. Telephones: Natl. Quotations and Reliable Information on application. Liverpool , Tuesday. Flour: Quiet inquiry at un. Maize: Spot met with mode- rate demand, although apening advance not maintained—mixed American 5s 6id. Beans firm.
Peas id per cental dearer than Friday. Salford, Tuesday. General quality of the sheep good; that of cattle only moderate. A large show of calves; trade quiet. Quotations:—Cattle, 5d to 6Jd; sheep, 6d to d; calves.
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Quota- tions :—Canadian talmon. Is 2d to Is 6d; soles, Is 2d to Is 6d; lemon soles, 8d; mullet. Is; halibut, 8d; brill. Is; and shrimps.
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Grimsby, Tuesc:ay. Is 10d to 2s lOd: turbot. Is 4d to is 8d; brills, 9d to Is; lobsters. Is 9d per lb. Cork, Tuesday. In market: 60 firkins. London, Tuesday. Quotations:—Best clover, 95s to s; inferior, 80s to 90s; specially picked hay. Quotations :-Best Lincoln Tp-to-dates, 60s to 70s; Blackland ditto. Glasgow, Tuesday. Cleveland steady; a small business was done at 43s 4d eeven days; buyers, i3s 3d cash, and 43s 4d month; sellers, Jd more. County Selling. Burton Pideea. Lady Novice, and Killarkin. Garewood Hurdle-Yellow Vixen.
Outpost, Easter Prize, and rgolino. Selling Hurdle. Makerfield Handica. Wigan Steeplechase. Squint IT.. Sapnv Shower, and Marauder. Ice Pudding and Spirited. The majority of the others can arrive on the morning of their engagements. The Derby led to a lime speculation, when Duke of Westminster wag supported at 11 to 2, and 7 to 1 v. Against Rising Glass 10 to 1 was the best offer. Croker's horses are going back to Wan- tage, where he trained before joining Wishard's stable.
A noteworthy proposal is that hardle races of a mile and a half should be restored, pro- viding they are confined to three-year-olds. Percy Peck. Jewitt, widow of the "late Mr. James Jewitt. The only horse that Mr. Whitney has sent back to America is Elkhorn, and it is more than ever certain that the American gentle- man's colours will be familiar on our courses next year. The useful French three-year-old jumper Le Pic. Boon, the jockey, sustained serious injuries. Jacob Pincus. Be goes on a visit only, and is expected to return to England early in the N w Tear.
Thanks to the great care and attention lavished on him by James Watson. Eryx, Baron de Rothschild's crack two-year-old of , is now quite sound. Ridden by Hjame, why has been specially engaged for the pur- pose. At the annual Chrisi mas fat stock sale at Newmarket, Mr. M'Calmont, for the best fat beast in the show; also first prize for the best fat steer, -and second winning honours for the best pair of fat steers, for which competition Colonel H. M'Calmont was the runner-up.
Major E. Baird secured premier honours for the best pen of Suffolk shearling wethers. Marsh, the trainer, was to the fore with his pen of three fat hogs, which gained first prize. John Porter had some betting tales to tellk at the Gi'ii-rack Club dinner. Porter said: "I dft not slLopose that anyone so inti- mately cl l;nected with the Turf as I have been for the last 40 years has had so little to do with betting as 1. Only twice have I ventured to have E on a race. I took Colonel Paget 10, to Orme for the D?
I was in an awful funk about the ICO, and tried to save it by laying to This was the beginning and the end of my plunging. The 'Varsity Side. Strand Jones; three-quarter backs, Crabbie. Heddon, Duncan, and Lockyer: half- backs. Walton and Kershaw, forwards. The Cardiff team will be complete, with the exception of Percy' Bush. The Council of the Football Association last evening approved of the final tie for the Chal- I lenge Cup on April 19, , being played at, the Crystal Paiace enclosure.
Kick-off 2. Town-hall, Cardiff. Without Reserve, cf 15 CWT. Official Salesmen. Telegrams: "Remit, Cardiff. Even ins Kxpreas, CitfrtifV.