ENGLISH THRONE

Wairarapa Times-Age, 10 April 1939, Page 2

ENGLISH THRONE

EX-POLICEMAN’S ASTONISHING CLAIM DESCENDANT OF TUDOR KINGS. BANNED THE CORONATION. Would you throw up your job in the hope of becoming King of England? That is what a man now living in Finsbury, London, did a few years ago. His name is Anthony Hall, but everyone in the neighbourhood knows him as “King Anthony.” Once he enjoyed a lesser distinction as the youngest police-inspector in Britain. He has written books on traffic control and crime detection. His senior officers in the Shropshire Police Force praised him highly, but suddenly he abandoned this promising career and began delving into family history. There had always been a tradition among the Halls that they were descended from the Tudor Kings of England. “I found that Henry VIII had a son called John by Anne Boleyn in 1528 — before he divorced Katherine of Aragon,” Anthony declared to me (writes F. A. Beaumont). “The boy was brought up in Sussex by a farmer named Hall. “I can trace my ancestry directly back to this lad. He was illegitimate. But that does not affect my claim. So was William the Conqueror. I am, therefore, Anthony, the last of the Tudors.” Further research in genealogy convinced Anthony that the Tudor line is still the true Royal line of England and that all succeeding houses had no right to the Throne. He submitted his claim and family tree to the Duke of Norfolk, Earl-Marshall, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Home Office. Anthony’s first move in his amazing struggle for the Crown was an “eviction order” requesting George V to leave Buckingham Palace! It was addressed merely to George Frederick Ernest Albert Windsor, Esq. ordering him “in the name of the law . . . forthwith to relinquish the Imperial Crown of this Realm, and all the dignities, honours, pre-eminences, prerogatives, authorities, jurisdictions, lands and possessions to the same, annexed or belonging. “I write to you as it is my intention that over this matter touching the Crown there shall be no civil war,” the letter concluded. Shortly before the recent Coronation, Anthony served an “injunction” on the Earl-Marshall and the Primate, “forbidding” them to perform their Coronation duties. “Know this also,” he concluded, “that the heads who take part in the ‘coronation’ of any person, not of the Blood Royal of England shall fly like chaff in the wind.” NINE YEARS’ CAMPAIGN. For nine years Anthony has been toiling away at his colossal task of persuading the people of this country that he alone is their “rightful monarch.” One finds him canvassing dockers in the raw dawn of the Thamesside, and late the same night haranguing the fashionable throngs leaving West End theatres. Three times daily, seven days a week, he addresses large crowds. He has been summoned five times and gaoled twice, and moved on from pillar to post by “nearly every bobby in the land.” But nothing can down him. He goes on stoutly declaring that he is the last descendant of bluff King Hal, and that all our rulers since his daughter Elizabeth have been “interlopers.” Once, when a police-inspector at Hereford told him he could not hold a meeting in St Peter’s Square, he replied, “On whose authority? I know no law.” When the officer dragged him to the police station, he remained faithful to the historic truculence of the Tudors by fighting every inch of the way. HIS SCEPTRE—A POKER. Later, he declared in court that before holding the meeting he had written to the Chief Constable pointing out that no Parliamentary Bill since the death of Elizabeth had received true Royal assent. He wanted to know under whose authority the meeting was suppressed. The magistrates found “King Anthony” guilty of assault and bound him over in his recognisances for £2O. When he was asked the usual question, “Do you acknowledge yourself bound to your Sovereign Lord the King in the sum of £20?” Anthony replied, “Yes—to myself.” When I met Anthony recently, I was agreeably surprised by his cjuiet charm and innate politeness. I had expected a soap-box orator; instead I found a man of culture and refinement. The “King” is about forty years of age, tall, alert, intelligent, and wellgroomed. He does most of his own housekeeping and prepares his own meals. While he searched for documents purpoting to prove his “Kingship” on a table covered with letters, manuscripts, crockery and groceries, the cat jumped on to it and nearly got away with the chop he had bought for the Royal supper. “My palace is a boarding-house, my sceptre a poker,” he said with a smile as he handed me an excellent cup of tea. Anthony is ready to joke about anything except his claim to the Throne. On that he is dead serious. “I can prove my direct descent from Henry VII who won the Crown of England on Bosworth Field in 1485,” he maintains. "But the ancestry of the present Royal House jumps about all over Europe and goes no farther back than James I who was a changeling substituted by the Erskines of Mar.” “The real King James VI of Scotland, son of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, died- soon after birth,” he declares, “and a changeling, James Erskine, son of the Earl of Mar, was placed in the dead King’s cradle and brought up and foisted on the people as James VI of Scotland, who became James I of England.” ROYAL CHANGELING. It is extremely unlikely that the law officers will ever admit Anthony's claim to be descended from the Tudors. Official histories fail to record any son born out of wedlock to Henry VIII. On the contrary, it is known that he sent Anne Boleyn to the chopping-block chiefly because she had failed to boar him a male heir. In 1830. workmen were repairing the walls of Edinburgh Castle after a fire, iln the wall of the ante-chamber to the

bedroom where Mary Queen of Scots gave birth to her only child they found an oak coffin. In it, wrapped in clothof+gold embroidered with the initial “J,” lay the shrunken body of a baby. The Countess of Mar gave birth to a child about the same time as Mary Stuart in Edinburgh Castle. Portraits of James 1 show a remarkable resemblance to the Earls of Mar.

Anthony’s programme of reforms is almost as ambitious as his plan to become King. He promises redemption of the National Debt, beer at pre-war strength, penny postage, abolition of taxes on beer, tobacco, tea and local rates on shops and houses, free wireless licences, telephone calls and swimmingbaths.

He would establish a Royal Mint in every town, printing enough money to enable employers to provide work for all the unemployed. He loathes both Fascism and Communism. He would forbid marriages between Jews and Gentiles.

Anthony broke into the news recently with a “Royal Divorce.” His wife, Mrs Eethel Hall, of Shrewsbury, was granted a decree nisi against him in London for desertion, and was awarded the custody of their thirteen-year-old daughter, Margaret and costs. Though one finds it difficult to take his claims seriously, there are few more picturesque figures in Britain today.