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Hart +and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] +[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales +of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or +software or any other related product without express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END* + + + + + + +Produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + +MARGOT ASQUITH + +AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY + +TWO VOLUMES IN ONE + + + + + +I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO MY HUSBAND + +What? Have you not received powers, to the limits of which you +will bear all that befalls? Have you not received magnanimity? +Have you not received courage? Have you not received endurance?-- +EPICTETUS + + + + + +PREFACE + + +When I began this book I feared that its merit would depend upon +how faithfully I could record my own impressions of people and +events: when I had finished it I was certain of it. Had it been +any other kind of book the judgment of those nearest me would have +been invaluable, but, being what it is, it had to be entirely my +own; since whoever writes as he speaks must take the whole +responsibility, and to ask "Do you think I may say this?" or +"write that?" is to shift a little of that responsibility on to +someone else. This I could not bear to do, above all in the case +of my husband, who sees these recollections for the first time +now. My only literary asset is natural directness, and that +faculty would have been paralysed if I thought anything that I +have written here would implicate him. I would rather have made a +hundred blunders of style or discretion than seem, even to myself, +let alone the world at large, to have done that. + +Unlike many memoirists, the list of people I have to thank in this +preface is short: Lord Crewe and Mr. Texeira de Mattos--who alone +saw my MS. before its completion--for their careful criticisms +which in no way committed them to approving of all that I have +written; Mr. Desmond MacCarthy, for valuable suggestions; and my +typist, Miss Lea, for her silence and quickness. + +There are not many then of whom I can truly say, "Without their +approval and encouragement this book would never have been +written"--but those who really love me will forgive me and know +that what I owe them is deeper than thanks. + + + + + +CONTENTS OF BOOK ONE + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TENNANT FAMILY--MARGOT, ONE OF TWELVE CHILDREN--HOME LIFE IN +GLEN, SCOTLAND--FATHER A SELF-CENTRED BUSINESS-MAN; HIS VANITIES; +HIS PRIDE IN HIS CHILDREN--NEWS OF HIS DEATH--HANDSOME LORD +RIBBLESDALE VISITS GLEN--MOTHER DELICATE; HER LOVE OF ECONOMY; +CONFIDENCES--TENNANT GIRLS' LOVE AFFAIRS + +CHAPTER II + +GLEN AMONG THE MOORS--MARGOT'S ADVENTURE WITH A TRAMP--THE +SHEPHERD BOY--MEMORIES AND ESCAPADES--LAURA AND MARGOT; PROPOSALS +OF MARRIAGE--NEW MEN FRIENDS--LAURA ENGAGED; PROPOSAL IN THE +DUSK--MARGOT'S ACCIDENT IN HUNTING FIELD--LAURA'S PREMONITION OF +DEATH IN CHILDBIRTH--LAURA'S WILL + +CHAPTER III + +SLUMMING IN LONDON; ADVENTURE IN WHITECHAPEL; BRAWL IN A SALOON; +OUTINGS WITH WORKING GIRLS--MARGOT MEETS PRINCESS OF WALES--GOSSIP +OVER FRIENDSHIP WITH PRINCE OF WALES--LADY RANDOLPH CHURCHILL'S +BALL--MARGOT'S FIRST HUNT; MEETS ECCENTRIC DUKE OF BEAUFORT; FALLS +IN LOVE AT SEVENTEEN; COMMANDEERS A HORSE + +CHAPTER IV + +MARGOT AT A GIRLS' SCHOOL--WHO SPILT THE INK?--THE ENGINE DRIVER'S +MISTAKEN FLIRTATION--MARGOT LEAVES SCHOOL IN DISGUST--DECIDES TO +GO TO GERMANY TO STUDY CHAPTER V + +A DRESDEN LODGING HOUSE--MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE WITH AN OFFICER AFTER +THE OPERA--AN ELDERLY AMERICAN ADMIRER--YELLOW ROSES, GRAF VON-- +AND MOTIFS FROM WAGNER + +CHAPTER VI + +MARGOT RIDES HORSE INTO LONDON HOME AND SMASHES FURNITURE--SUITOR +IS FORBIDDEN THE HOUSE--ADVISES GIRL FRIEND TO ELOPE; INTERVIEW +WITH GIRL'S FATHER--TETE-A-TETE DINNER IN PARIS WITH BARON HIRSCH +--WINNING TIP FROM FRED ARCHER THE JOCKEY + +CHAPTER VII + +PHOENIX PARK MURDERS--REMEDIES FOR IRELAND--TELEPATHY AND +PLANCHETTE--VISIT TO BLAVATSKY--SIR CHARLES DILKE'S KISS--VISITS +TO GLADSTONE--THE LATE LORD SALISBURY'S POLITICAL PROPHECIES + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE BEAUTIFUL KATE VAUGHAN--COACHED BY COQUELIN IN MOLIERE-- +ROSEBERY'S POPULARITY AND ELOQUENCE--CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN BON-VIVANT +AND BOULEVARDIER--BALFOUR'S MOT; HIS CHARM AND WIT; HIS TASTES AND +PREFERENCES; HIS RELIGIOUS SPECULATION + + + + + +CONTENTS OF BOOK TWO + + +CHAPTER I + +THE SOULS--LORD CURZON'S POEM AND DINNER PARTY AND WHO WERE THESE +--MARGOT'S INVENTORY OF THE GROUP--TILT WITH THE LATE LADY +LONDONDERRY--VISIT TO TENNYSON; HIS CONTEMPT FOR CRITICS; HIS +HABIT OF LIVING--J. K. S. NOT A SOUL--MARGOT'S FRIENDSHIP WITH +JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS; HIS PRAISE OF MARIE BASHKIRTSEFF + +CHAPTER II + +CHARACTER SKETCH OF MARGOT--PLANS TO START A MAGAZINE--MEETS +MASTER OF BALLIOL; JOWETT'S ORTHODOXY; HIS INTEREST IN AND +INFLUENCE OVER MARGOT--ROSE IN "ROBERT ELSMERE" IDENTIFIED AS +MARGOT--JOWETT'S OPINION OF NEWMAN--JOWETT ADVISES MARGOT TO +MARRY--HUXLEY'S BLASPHEMY + +CHAPTER III + +FAST AND FURIOUS HUNTING IN LEICESTERSHIRE--COUNTRY HOUSE PARTY +AND A NEW ADMIRER--FRIENDSHIP WITH LORD AND LADY MANNERS + +CHAPTER IV + +MARGOT FALLS IN LOVE AGAIN--"HAVOC" IN THE HUNTING FIELD; A FALL +AND A DUCKING--THE FAMOUS MRS. BO; UNHEEDED ADVICE FROM A RIVAL--A +LOVERS' QUARREL--PETER JUMPS IN THE WINDOW--THE AMERICAN TROTTER-- +ANOTHER LOVER INTERVENES--PETER RETURNS FROM INDIA; ILLUMINATION +FROM A DARK WOMAN + +CHAPTER V + +THE ASQUITH FAMILY TREE--HERBERT H. ASQUITH'S MOTHER--ASQUITH'S +FIRST MARRIAGE; MEETS MARGOT TENNANT FOR FIRST TIME--TALK TILL +DAWN ON HOUSE OF COMMONS' TERRACE; OTHER MEETINGS--ENGAGEMENT A +LONDON SENSATION--MARRIAGE AN EVENT + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ASQUITH CHILDREN BY THE FIRST MARRIAGE--MARGOT'S STEPDAUGHTER +VIOLET--MEMORY OF THE FIRST MRS. ASQUITH--RAYMOND'S BRILLIANT +CAREER--ARTHUR'S HEROISM IN THE WAR + +CHAPTER VII + +VISIT TO WOMAN'S PRISON--INTERVIEW THERE WITH MRS. MAYBRICK-- +SCENE IN A LIFER'S CELL; THE HUSBAND WHO NEVER KNEW THOUGHT WIFE +MADE MONEY SEWING--MARGOT'S PLEA THAT FAILED + +CHAPTER VIII + +MARGOT'S FIRST BABY AND ITS LOSS--DANGEROUS ILLNESS--LETTER FROM +QUEEN VICTORIA--SIR WILLIAM HARCOURT'S PLEASANTRIES--ASQUITH +MINISTRY FALLS--VISIT FROM DUCHESS D'AOSTA + +CHAPTER IX + +MARGOT IN 1906 SUMS UP HER LIFE; A LOT OF LOVE-MAKING, A LITTLE +FAME AND MORE ABUSE: A REAL MAN AND GREAT HAPPINESS + + + + + +MARGOT ASQUITH + +AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY + + + + + +BOOK ONE + + + + + +"Prudence is a rich, ugly old maid wooed by incapacity."--Blake. + + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +THE TENNANT FAMILY--MARGOT, ONE OF TWELVE CHILDREN--HOME LIFE IN +GLEN, SCOTLAND--FATHER A SELF-CENTRED BUSINESS-MAN; HIS VANITIES; +HIS PRIDE IN HIS CHILDREN--NEWS OF HIS DEATH--HANDSOME LORD +RIBBLESDALE VISITS GLEN--MOTHER DELICATE; HER LOVE OF ECONOMY; +CONFIDENCES--TENNANT GIRLS' LOVE AFFAIRS + + +I was born in the country of Hogg and Scott between the Yarrow and +the Tweed, in the year 1864. + +I am one of twelve children, but I only knew eight, as the others +died when I was young. My eldest sister Pauline--or Posie, as we +called her--was born in 1855 and married on my tenth birthday one +of the best of men, Thomas Gordon Duff. [Footnote: Thomas Gordon +Duff, of Drummuir Castle, Keith.] She died of tuberculosis, the +cruel disease by which my family have all been pursued. We were +too different in age and temperament to be really intimate, but +her goodness, patience and pluck made a deep impression on me. + +My second sister, Charlotte, was born in 1858 and married, when I +was thirteen, the present Lord Ribblesdale, in 1877. She was the +only member of the family--except my brother Edward Glenconner-- +who was tall. My mother attributed this--and her good looks--to +her wet-nurse, Janet Mercer, a mill-girl at Innerleithen, noted +for her height and beauty. Charty--as we called her--was in some +ways the most capable of us all, but she had not Laura's genius, +Lucy's talents, nor my understanding. She had wonderful grace and +less vanity than any one that ever lived; and her social courage +was a perpetual joy. I heard her say to the late Lord Rothschild, +one night at a dinner party: + +"And do you still believe the Messiah is coming, Lord Natty?" + +Once when her husband went to make a political speech in the +country, she telegraphed to him: + +"Mind you hit below the belt!" + +She was full of nature and impulse, free, enterprising and +unconcerned. She rode as well as I did, but was not so quick to +hounds nor so conscious of what was going on all round her. + +One day when the Rifle Brigade was quartered at Winchester, +Ribblesdale--who was a captain--sent Charty out hunting with old +Tubb, the famous dealer, from whom he had hired her mount. As he +could not accompany her himself, he was anxious to know how her +ladyship had got on; the old rascal-wanting to sell his horse-- +raised his eyes to heaven and gasped: + +"Hornamental palings! My lord!!" + +It was difficult to find a better-looking couple than Charty and +Ribblesdale; I have often observed people following them in +picture-galleries; and their photographs appeared in many of the +London shop-windows. + +My next sister, Lucy, [Footnote: Mrs. Graham Smith, of Easton +Grey, Malmesbury.] was the most talented and the best educated of +the family. She fell between two stools in her youth, because +Charty and Posie were of an age to be companions and Laura and I; +consequently she did not enjoy the happy childhood that we did and +was mishandled by the authorities both in the nursery and the +schoolroom. When I was thirteen she made a foolish engagement, so +that our real intimacy only began after her marriage. She was my +mother's favourite child--which none of us resented--and, although +like my father in hospitality, courage and generous giving, she +had my mother's stubborn modesty and delicacy of mind. Her fear of +hurting the feelings of others was so great that she did not tell +people what she was thinking; she was truthful but not candid. Her +drawings--both in pastel and water-colour--her portraits, +landscapes and interiors were further removed from amateur work +than Laura's piano-playing or my dancing; and, had she put her +wares into the market, as we all wanted her to do years ago, she +would have been a rich woman, but like all saints she was +uninfluenceable. I owe her too much to write about her: tormented +by pain and crippled by arthritis, she has shown a heroism and +gaiety which command the love and respect of all who meet her. + +Of my other sister, Laura, I will write later. + +The boys of the family were different from the girls, though they +all had charm and an excellent sense of humour. My mother said the +difference between her boys and girls came from circulation, and +would add, "The Winsloes always had cold feet"; but I think it lay +in temper and temperament. They would have been less apprehensive +and more serene if they had been brought up to some settled +profession; and they were quite clever enough to do most things +well. + +My brother Jack [Footnote: The Right Hon. H. J. Tennant] was +petted and mismanaged in his youth. He had a good figure, but his +height was arrested by his being allowed, when he was a little +fellow, to walk twelve to fifteen miles a day with the shooters; +and, however tired he would be, he was taken out of bed to play +billiards after dinner. Leather footstools were placed one on the +top of the other by a proud papa and the company made to watch +this lovely little boy score big breaks; excited and exhausted, he +would go to bed long after midnight, with praises singing in his +ears. + +"You are more like lions than sisters!" he said one day in the +nursery when we snubbed him. + +In making him his Parliamentary Secretary, my husband gave him his +first chance; and in spite of his early training and teasing he +turned his life to good account. + +In the terrible years 1914, 1915 and 1916, he was Under-Secretary +for War to the late Lord Kitchener and was finally made Secretary +for Scotland, with a seat in the Cabinet. Like every Tennant, he +had tenderness and powers of emotion and showed much affection and +generosity to his family. He was a fine sportsman with an +exceptionally good eye for games. + +My brother Frank [Footnote: Francis Tennant, of Innes.] was the +artist among the boys. He had a perfect ear for music and eye for +colour and could distinguish what was beautiful in everything he +saw. He had the sweetest temper of any of us and the most +humility. + +In his youth he had a horrible tutor who showed him a great deal +of cruelty; and this retarded his development. One day at Glen, I +saw this man knock Frank down. Furious and indignant, I said, "You +brute!" and hit him over the head with both my fists. After he had +boxed my ears, Laura protested, saying she would tell my father, +whereupon he toppled her over on the floor and left the room. + +When I think of our violent teachers--both tutors and governesses +--and what the brothers learnt at Eton, I am surprised that we knew +as much as we did and my parents' helplessness bewilders me. + +My eldest brother, Eddy, [Footnote: Lord Glenconner, of Glen, +Innerleithen.] though very different from me in temperament and +outlook, was the one with whom I got on best. We were both +devoured by impatience and punctuality and loved being alone in +the country. He hated visiting, I enjoyed it; he detested society +and I delighted in it. My mother was not strong enough to take me +to balls; and as she was sixty-three the year I came out, Eddy was +by way of chaperoning me, but I can never remember him bringing me +back from a single party. We each had our latch-keys and I went +home either by myself or with a partner. + +We shared a secret and passionate love for our home, Glen, and +knew every clump of heather and every birch and burn in the place. +Herbert Gladstone told me that, one day in India, when he and Eddy +after a long day's shooting were resting in silence on the ground, +he said to him: + +"What are you thinking about, Eddy?" + +To which he answered: + +"Oh, always the same ... Glen! ..." + +In all the nine years during which he and I lived there together, +in spite of our mutual irascibility of temper and uneven spirits, +we never had a quarrel. Whether we joined each other on the moor +at the far shepherd's cottage or waited for grouse upon the hill; +whether we lunched on the Quair or fished on the Tweed, we have a +thousand common memories to keep our hearts together. + +My father [Footnote: Sir Charles Tennant, 1823-1906.] was a man +whose vitality, irritability, energy and impressionability +amounted to genius. + +When he died, June 2nd, 1906, I wrote this in my diary: + +"I was sitting in Elizabeth's [Footnote: My daughter, Elizabeth +Bibesco.] schoolroom at Littlestone yesterday--Whit-Monday--after +hearing her recite Tartuffe at 7 p.m., when James gave me a +telegram; it was from my stepmother: + +"'Your father passed away peacefully at five this afternoon.' + +"I covered my face with my hands and went to find my husband. My +father had been ill for some time, but, having had a letter from +him that morning, the news gave me a shock. + +"Poor little Elizabeth was terribly upset at my unhappiness; and I +was moved to the heart by her saying with tear-filled eyes and a +white face: + +"'Darling mother, he had a VERY happy life and is very happy now +... he will ALWAYS be happy.' + +"This was true. ... He had been and always will be happy, because +my father's nature turned out no waste product: he had none of +that useless stuff in him that lies in heaps near factories. He +took his own happiness with him, and was self-centred and self- +sufficing: for a sociable being, the most self-sufficing I have +ever known; I can think of no one of such vitality who was so +independent of other people; he could golf alone, play billiards +alone, walk alone, shoot alone, fish alone, do everything alone; +and yet he was dependent on both my mother and my stepmother and +on all occasions loved simple playfellows. ... Some one to carry +his clubs, or to wander round the garden with, would make him +perfectly happy. It was at these times, I think, that my father +was at his sweetest. Calm as a sky after showers, he would discuss +every topic with tenderness and interest and appeared to be +unupsettable; he had eternal youth, and was unaffected by a +financial world which had been spinning round him all day. + +"The striking thing about him was his freedom from suspicion. +Thrown from his earliest days among common, shrewd men of +singularly unspiritual ideals--most of them not only on the make +but I might almost say on the pounce--he advanced on his own lines +rapidly and courageously, not at all secretively--almost +confidingly--yet he was rarely taken in. + +"He knew his fellow-creatures better in the East-end than in the +West-end of London and had a talent for making men love him; he +swept them along on the impulse of his own decided intentions. He +was never too busy nor too prosperous to help the struggling and +was shocked by meanness or sharp practice, however successful. + +"There were some people whom my father never understood, good, +generous and high-minded as he was: the fanatic with eyes turned +to no known order of things filled him with electric impatience; +he did not care for priests, poets or philosophers; anything like +indecision, change of plans, want of order, method or punctuality, +forgetfulness or carelessness--even hesitation of voice and +manner--drove him mad; his temperament was like a fuse which a +touch will explode, but the bomb did not kill, it hurt the +uninitiated but it consumed its own sparks. My papa had no self- +control, no possibility of learning it: it was an unknown science, +like geometry or algebra, to him; and he had very little +imagination. It was this combination--want of self-control and +want of imagination--which prevented him from being a thinker. + +"He had great character, minute observation, a fine memory and all +his instincts were charged with almost superhuman vitality, but no +one could argue with him. Had the foundation of his character been +as unreasonable and unreliable as his temperament, he would have +made neither friends nor money; but he was fundamentally sound, +ultimately serene and high-minded in the truest sense of the word. +He was a man of intellect, but not an intellectual man; he did not +really know anything about the great writers or thinkers, although +he had read odds and ends. He was essentially a man of action and +a man of will; this is why I call him a man of intellect. He made +up his mind in a flash, partly from instinct and partly from will. + +"He had the courage for life and the enterprise to spend his +fortune on it. He was kind and impulsively generous, but too hasty +for disease to accost or death to delay. For him they were +interruptions, not abiding sorrows. + +"He knew nothing of rancour, remorse, regret; they conveyed much +the same to him as if he had been told to walk backwards and +received neither sympathy nor courtesy from him. + +"He was an artist with the gift of admiration. He had a good eye +and could not buy an ugly or even moderately beautiful thing; but +he was no discoverer in art. Here I will add to make myself clear +that I am thinking of men like Frances Horner's father, old Mr. +Graham, [Footnote: Lady Horner, of Mells, Frome.] who discovered +and promoted Burne-Jones and Frederick Walker; or Lord Battersea, +who was the first to patronise Cecil Lawson; or my sister, Lucy +Graham Smith, who was a fine judge of every picture and recognised +and appreciated all schools of painting. My father's judgment was +warped by constantly comparing his own things with other people's. + +"The pride of possession and proprietorship is a common and a +human one, but the real artist makes everything he admires his +own: no one can rob him of this; he sees value in unsigned +pictures and promise in unfinished ones; he not only discovers and +interprets, but almost creates beauty by the fire of his +criticisms and the inwardness of his preception. Papa was too +self-centred for this; a large side of art was hidden from him; +anything mysterious, suggestive, archaic, whether Italian, Spanish +or Dutch, frankly bored him. His feet were planted firmly on a +very healthy earth; he liked art to be a copy of nature, not of +art. The modern Burne-Jones and Morris school, with what he +considered its artificiality and affectations, he could not +endure. He did not realise that it originated in a reaction from +early-Victorianism and mid-Victorianism. He lost sight of much +that is beautiful in colour and fancy and all the drawing and +refinement of this school, by his violent prejudices. His opinions +were obsessions. Where he was original was not so much in his +pictures but in the mezzotints, silver, china and objets d'art +which he had collected for many years. + +"Whatever he chose, whether it was a little owl, a dog, a nigger, +a bust, a Cupid in gold, bronze, china or enamel, it had to have +some human meaning, some recognisable expression which made it +lovable and familiar to him. He did not care for the fantastic, +the tortured or the ecclesiastical; saints, virgins, draperies and +crucifixes left him cold; but an old English chest, a stout little +chair or a healthy oriental bottle would appeal to him at once. + +"No one enjoyed his own possessions more naively and +enthusiastically than my father; he would often take a candle and +walk round the pictures in his dressing-gown on his way to bed, +loitering over them with tenderness--I might almost say emotion. + +"When I was alone with him, tucked up reading on a sofa, he would +send me upstairs to look at the Sir Joshuas: Lady Gertrude +Fitz-Patrick, Lady Crosbie or Miss Ridge. + +"'She is quite beautiful to-night,' he would say. 'Just run up to +the drawing-room, Margot, and have a look at her.' + +"It was not only his collections that he was proud of, but he was +proud of his children; we could all do things better than any one +else! Posie could sing, Lucy could draw, Laura could play, I could +ride, etc.; our praises were stuffed down newcomers' throats till +every one felt uncomfortable. I have no want of love to add to my +grief at his death, but I much regret my impatience and lack of +grace with him. + +"He sometimes introduced me with emotional pride to the same man +or woman two or three times in one evening: + +"'This is my little girl--very clever, etc., etc. Colonel +Kingscote says she goes harder across country than any one, etc., +etc.' + +"This exasperated me. Turning to my mother in the thick of the +guests that had gathered in our house one evening to hear a +professional singer, he said at the top of his voice while the +lady was being conducted to the piano: + +"'Don't bother, my dear, I think every one would prefer to hear +Posie sing.' + +"I well remember Laura and myself being admonished by him on our +returning from a party at the Cyril Flowers' in the year 1883, +where we had been considerably run by dear Papa and twice +introduced to Lord Granville. We showed such irritability going +home in the brougham that my father said: + +"'It's no pleasure taking you girls out.' + +"This was the only time I ever heard him cross with me. + +"He always told us not to frown and to speak clearly, just as my +mother scolded us for not holding ourselves up. I can never +remember seeing him indifferent, slack or idle in his life. He was +as violent when he was dying as when he was living and quite +without self-pity. + +"He hated presents, but he liked praise and was easily flattered; +he was too busy even for MUCH of that, but he could stand more +than most of us. If it is a little simple, it is also rather +generous to believe in the nicest things people can say to you; +and I think I would rather accept too much than repudiate and +refuse: it is warmer and more enriching. + +"My father had not the smallest conceit or smugness, but he had a +little child-like vanity. You could not spoil him nor improve him; +he remained egotistical, sound, sunny and unreasonable; violently +impatient, not at all self-indulgent--despising the very idea of a +valet or a secretary--but absolutely self-willed; what he intended +to do, say or buy, he would do, say or buy AT ONCE. + +"He was fond of a few people--Mark Napier, [Footnote: The Hon. +Mark Napier, of Ettrick.] Ribblesdale, Lord Haldane, Mr. +Heseltine, Lord Rosebery and Arthur Balfour--and felt friendly to +everybody, but he did not LOVE many people. When we were girls he +told us we ought to make worldly marriages, but in the end he let +us choose the men we loved and gave us the material help in money +which enabled us to marry them. I find exactly the opposite plan +adopted by most parents: they sacrifice their children to loveless +marriages as long as they know there is enough money for no demand +ever to be made upon themselves. + +"I think I understood my father better than the others did. I +guessed his mood in a moment and in consequence could push further +and say more to him when he was in a good humour. I lived with +him, my mother and Eddy alone for nine years (after my sister +Laura married) and had a closer personal experience of him. He +liked my adventurous nature. Ribblesdale's [Footnote: Lord +Ribblesdale, of Gisburne.] courtesy and sweetness delighted him +and they were genuinely fond of each other. He said once to me of +him: + +"'Tommy is one of the few people in the world that have shown me +gratitude.'" + +I cannot pass my brother-in-law's name here in my diary without +some reference to the effect which he produced on us when he first +came to Glen. + +He was the finest-looking man that I ever saw, except old Lord +Wemyss, [Footnote: The Earl of Wemyss and March, father of the +present Earl.] the late Lord Pembroke, Mr. Wilfrid Blunt and Lord +D'Abernon. He had been introduced to my sister Charty at a ball in +London, when he was twenty-one and she eighteen. A brother-officer +of his in the Rifle Brigade, seeing them waltzing together, asked +him if she was his sister, to which he answered: + +"No, thank God!" + +I was twelve when he first came to Glen as Thomas Lister: his fine +manners, perfect sense of humour and picturesque appearance +captivated every one; and, whether you agreed with him or not, he +had a perfectly original point of view and was always interested +and suggestive. He never misunderstood but thoroughly appreciated +my father. ... + +Continuing from my diary: + +"My papa was a character-part; and some people never understood +character-parts. + +"None of his children are really like him; yet there are +resemblances which are interesting and worth noting. + +"Charty on the whole resembles him most. She has his transparent +simplicity, candour, courage laid want of self-control; but she is +the least selfish woman I know and the least self-centred. She is +also more intolerant and merciless in her criticisms of other +people, and has a finer sense of humour. Papa loved things of good +report and never believed evil of any one. He had a rooted +objection to talking lightly of other people's lives; he was not +exactly reverent, but a feeling of kindly decent citizenship +prevented him from thinking or speaking slightingly of other +people. + +"Lucy has Papa's artistic and generous side, but none of his self- +confidence or decisiveness; all his physical courage, but none of +his ambition. + +"Eddy has his figure and deportment, his sense of justice and +emotional tenderness, but none of his vitality, impulse or hope. +Jack has his ambition and push, keenness and self-confidence; but +he is not so good-humoured in a losing game. Frank has more of his +straight tongue and appreciation of beautiful things, but none of +his brains. + +"I think I had more of Papa's moral indignation and daring than +the others; and physically there were great resemblances between +us: otherwise I do not think I am like him. I have his carriage, +balance and activity--being able to dance, skip and walk on a +rope--and I have inherited his hair and sleeplessness, nerves and +impatience; but intellectually we look at things from an entirely +different point of view. I am more passionate, more spiritually +perplexed and less self-satisfied. I have none of his powers of +throwing things off. I should like to think I have a little of his +generosity, humanity and kindly toleration, some of his +fundamental uprightness and integrity, but when everything has +been said he will remain a unique man in people's memory." + +Writing now, fourteen years later, I do not think that I can add +much to this. + +Although he was a business man, he had a wide understanding and +considerable elasticity. + +In connection with business men, the staggering figures published +in the official White Book of November last year showed that the +result of including them in the Government has been so remarkable +that my memoir would be incomplete if I did not allude to them. My +father and grandfather were brought up among City people and I am +proud of it; but it is folly to suppose that starting and +developing a great business is the same as initiating and +conducting a great policy, or running a big Government Department. + +It has been and will remain a puzzle over which intellectual men +are perpetually if not permanently groping: + +"How comes it that Mr. Smith or Mr. Brown made such a vast +fortune?" + +The answer is not easy. Making money requires FLAIR, instinct, +insight or whatever you like to call it, but the qualities that go +to make a business man are grotesquely unlike those which make a +statesman; and, when you have pretensions to both, the result is +the present comedy and confusion. + +I write as the daughter of a business man and the wife of a +politician and I know what I am talking about, but, in case Mr. +Bonar Law--a pathetic believer in the "business man"--should +honour me by reading these pages and still cling to his illusions +on the subject, I refer him to the figures published in the +Government White Book of 1919. + +Intellectual men seldom make fortunes and business men are seldom +intellectual. + +My father was educated in Liverpool and worked in a night school; +he was a good linguist, which he would never have been had he had +the misfortune to be educated in any of our great public schools. + +I remember some one telling me how my grandfather had said that he +could not understand any man of sense bringing his son up as a +gentleman. In those days as in these, gentlemen were found and not +made, but the expression "bringing a man up as a gentleman" meant +bringing him up to be idle. + +When my father gambled in the City, he took risks with his own +rather than other people's money. I heard him say to a South +African millionaire: + +"You did not make your money out of mines, but out of mugs like +me, my dear fellow!" + +A whole chapter might be devoted to stories about his adventures +in speculation, but I will give only one. As a young man he was +put by my grandfather into a firm in Liverpool and made L30,000 on +the French Bourse before he was twenty-four. On hearing of this, +his father wrote and apologised to the head of the firm, saying he +was willing to withdraw his son Charles if he had in any way +shocked them by risking a loss which he could never have paid. The +answer was a request that the said "son Charles" should become a +partner in the firm. + +Born a little quicker, more punctual and more alive than other +people, he suffered fools not at all. He could not modify himself +in any way; he was the same man in his nursery, his school and his +office, the same man in church, club, city or suburbs. + +[Footnote: My mother, Emma Winsloe, came of quite a different +class from my father. His ancestor of earliest memory was factor +to Lord Bute, whose ploughman was Robert Burns, the poet. His +grandson was my grandfather Tennant of St. Rollox. My mother's +family were of gentle blood. Richard Winsloe (b. 1770, d. 1842) +was rector of Minster Forrabury in Cornwall and of Ruishton, near +Taunton. He married Catherine Walter, daughter of the founder of +the Times. Their son, Richard Winsloe, was sent to Oxford to study +for the Church. He ran away with Charlotte Monkton, aged 17. They +were caught at Evesham and brought back to be married next day at +Taunton, where Admiral Monkton was living. They had two children: +Emma, our mother, and Richard, my uncle.] + +My mother was more unlike my father than can easily be imagined. +She was as timid, as he was bold, as controlled as he was +spontaneous and as refined, courteous and unassuming as he was +vibrant, sheer and adventurous. + +Fond as we were of each other and intimate over all my love- +affairs, my mother never really understood me; my vitality, +independent happiness and physical energies filled her with +fatigue. She never enjoyed her prosperity and suffered from all +the apprehension, fussiness and love of economy that should by +rights belong to the poor, but by a curious perversion almost +always blight the rich. + +Her preachings on economy were a constant source of amusement to +my father. I made up my mind at an early age, after listening to +his chaff, that money was the most overrated of all anxieties; and +not only has nothing occurred in my long experience to make me +alter this opinion but everything has tended to reinforce it. + +In discussing matrimony my father would say: + +"I'm sure I hope, girls, you'll not marry penniless men; men +should not marry at all unless they can keep their wives,' etc. + +To this my mother would retort: + +"Do not listen to your father, children! Marrying for money has +never yet made any one happy; it is not blessed." + +Mamma had no illusions about her children nor about anything else; +her mild criticisms of the family balanced my father's obsessions. +When Charty's looks were praised, she would answer with a fine +smile: + +"Tant soit peu mouton!" + +She thought us all very plain, how plain I only discovered by +overhearing the following conversation. + +I was seventeen and, a few days after my return from Dresden, I +was writing behind the drawing room screen in London, when an +elderly Scotch lady came to see my mother; she was shown into the +room by the footman and after shaking hands said: + +"What a handsome house this is. ..." + +MY MOTHER (IRRELEVANTLY): "I always think your place is so nice. +Did your garden do well this year?" + +ELDERLY LADY: "Oh, I'm not a gardener and we spend very little +time at Auchnagarroch; I took Alison to the Hydro at Crieff for a +change. She's just a growing girl, you know, and not at all clever +like yours." + +MY MOTHER: "My girls never grow! I am sure I wish they would!" + +ELDERLY LADY: "But they are so pretty! My Marion has a homely +face!" + +MY MOTHER: "How old is she?" + +ELDERLY LADY: "Sixteen." + +MY MOTHER: "L'AGE INGRAT! I would not trouble myself, if I were +you, about her looks; with young people one never can tell; +Margot, for instance (with a resigned sigh), a few years ago +promised to be so pretty; and just look at her now!" + +When some one suggested that we should be painted it was almost +more than my mother could bear. The poorness of the subject and +the richness of the price shocked her profoundly. Luckily my +father--who had begun to buy fine pictures--entirely agreed with +her, though not for the same reasons: + +"I am sure I don't know where I could hang the girls, even if I +were fool enough to have them painted!" he would say. + +I cannot ever remember kissing my mother without her tapping me on +the back and saying, "Hold yourself up!" or kissing my father +without his saying, "Don't frown!" And I shall never cease being +grateful for this, as a l'heure qu'il est I have not a line in my +forehead and my figure has not changed since my marriage. + +My mother's indifference to--I might almost say suspicion of-- +other people always amused me: + +"I am sure I don't know why they should come here! unless it is to +see the garden!" Or, "I cannot help wondering what was at the back +of her mind." + +When I suggested that perhaps the lady she referred to had no +mind, my mother would say, "I don't like people with ARRIERE-- +PENSEES"; and ended most of her criticisms by saying, "It looks to +me as if she had a poor circulation." + +My mother had an excellent sense of humour. Doll Liddell +[Footnote: The late A.G.C. Lidell.] said: "Lucy has a touch of +mild genius." And this is exactly what my mother had. + +People thought her a calm, serene person, satisfied with pinching +green flies off plants and incapable of deep feeling, but my +mother's heart had been broken by the death of her first four +children, and she dreaded emotion. Any attempt on my part to +discuss old days or her own sensations was resolutely discouraged. +There was a lot of fun and affection but a tepid intimacy between +us, except about my flirtations; and over these we saw eye to eye. + +My mother, who had been a great flirt herself, thoroughly enjoyed +all love-affairs and was absolutely unshockable. Little words of +wisdom would drop from her mouth: + +MY MOTHER: "Men don't like being run after ..." + +MARGOT: "Oh, don't you believe it, mamma!" + +MY MOTHER: "You can do what you like in life if you can hold your +tongue, but the world is relentless to people who are found out." + +She told my father that if he interfered with my love-affairs I +should very likely marry a groom. + +She did me a good turn here, for, though I would not have married +a groom, I might have married the wrong man and, in any case, +interference would have been cramping to me. + +I have copied out of my diary what I wrote about my mother when +she died. + +"January 21st, 1895. + +"Mamma is dead. She died this morning and Glen isn't my home any +more: I feel as if I should be 'received' here in future, instead +of finding my own darling, tender little mother, who wanted +arranging for and caring for and to whom my gossipy trivialities +were precious and all my love-stories a trust. How I WISH I could +say sincerely that I had understood her nature and sympathised +with her and never felt hurt by anything she could say and had +EAGERLY shown my love and sought hers. ... Lucky Lucy! She CAN say +this, but I do not think that I can. + +"Mamma's life and death have taught me several things. Her +sincerity and absence of vanity and worldliness were her really +striking qualities. Her power of suffering passively, without +letting any one into her secret, was carried to a fault. We who +longed to share some part, however small, of the burden of her +emotion were not allowed to do so. This reserve to the last hour +of her life remained her inexorable rule and habit. It arose from +a wish to spare other people and fear of herself and her own +feelings. To spare others was her ideal. Another characteristic +was her pity for the obscure, the dull and the poor. The postman +in winter ought to have fur-lined gloves; and we must send our +Christmas letters and parcels before or after the busy days. Lord +Napier's [Footnote: Lord Napier and Ettrick, father of Mark +Napier.] coachman had never seen a comet; she would write and tell +him what day it was prophesied. The lame girl at the lodge must be +picked up in the brougham and taken for a drive, etc. ... + +"She despised any one who was afraid of infection and was +singularly ignorant on questions of health; she knew little or +nothing of medicine and never believed in doctors; she made an +exception of Sir James Simpson, who was her friend. She told me +that he had said there was a great deal of nonsense talked about +health and diet: + +"'If the fire is low, it does not matter whether you stir it with +the poker or the tongs.' + +"She believed firmly in cold water and thought that most illnesses +came from 'checked perspiration.' + +"She loved happy people--people with courage and go and what she +called 'nature'--and said many good things. Of Mark Napier: 'He +had so much nature, I am sure he had a Neapolitan wet-nurse' (here +she was right). Of Charty: 'She has so much social courage.' Of +Aunt Marion [Footnote: My father's sister, Mrs. Wallace.]: 'She is +unfortunately inferior.' Of Lucy's early friends: 'Lucy's trumpery +girls.' + +"Mamma was not at all spiritual, nor had she much intellectual +imagination, but she believed firmly in God and was profoundly +sorry for those who did not. She was full of admiration for +religious people. Laura's prayer against high spirits she thought +so wonderful that she kept it in a book near her bed. + +"She told me she had never had enough circulation to have good +spirits herself and that her old nurse often said: + +"'No one should ever be surprised at anything they feel.' + +"My mamma came of an unintellectual family and belonged to a +generation in which it was not the fashion to read. She had lived +in a small milieu most of her life, without the opportunity of +meeting distinguished people. She had great powers of observation +and a certain delicate acuteness of expression which identified +all she said with herself. She was fine-mouche and full of tender +humour, a woman of the world, but entirely bereft of worldliness. + +"Her twelve children, who took up all her time, accounted for some +of her a quoi bon attitude towards life, but she had little or no +concentration and a feminine mind both in its purity and +inconsequence. + +"My mother hardly had one intimate friend and never allowed any +one to feel necessary to her. Most people thought her gentle to +docility and full of quiet composure. So much is this the general +impression that, out of nearly a hundred letters which I received, +there is not one that does not allude to her restful nature. As a +matter of fact, Mamma was one of the most restless creatures that +ever lived. She moved from room to room, table to table, and topic +to topic, not, it is true, with haste or fretfulness, but with no +concentration of either thought or purpose; and I never saw her +put up her feet in my life. + +"Her want of confidence in herself and of grip upon life prevented +her from having the influence which her experience of the world +and real insight might have given her; and her want of expansion +prevented her own generation and discouraged ours from approaching +her closely. + +"Few women have speculative minds nor can they deliberate: they +have instincts, quick apprehensions and powers of observation; but +they are seldom imaginative and neither their logic nor their +reason are their strong points. Mamma was in all these ways like +the rest of her sex. + +"She had much affection for, but hardly any pride in her children. +Laura's genius was a phrase to her; and any praise of Charty's +looks or Lucy's successes she took as mere courtesy on the part of +the speaker. I can never remember her praising me, except to say +that I had social courage, nor did she ever encourage me to draw, +write or play the piano. + +"She marked in a French translation of "The Imitation of Christ" +which Lucy gave her: + +"'Certes au jour du jugement on ne nous demandera point ce que +nous avons lu, mais ce que nous avons fait; ni si nous avons bien +parle mais si nous avons bien vecu.' + +"She was the least self-centred and self-scanned of human beings, +unworldly and uncomplaining. As Doll Liddell says in his admirable +letter to me, 'She was often wise and always gracious.'" + + + + + +CHAPTER II + +GLEN AMONG THE MOORS--MARGOT'S ADVENTURE WITH A TRAMP--THE +SHEPHERD BOY--MEMORIES AND ESCAPADES--LAURA AND MARGOT; PROPOSALS +OF MARRIAGE--NEW MEN FRIENDS--LAURA ENGAGED; PROPOSAL IN THE +DUSK--MARGOT'S ACCIDENT IN HUNTING FIELD--LAURA'S PREMONITION OF +DEATH IN CHILD-BIRTH--LAURA'S WILL + + +My home, Glen, is on the border of Peeblesshire and Selkirkshire, +sixteen miles from Abbotsford and thirty from Edinburgh. It was +designed on the lines of Glamis and Castle Fraser, in what is +called Scottish baronial style. I well remember the first shock I +had when some one said: "I hate turrets and tin men on the top of +them!" It unsettled me for days. I had never imagined that +anything could be more beautiful than Glen. The classical style of +Whittingehame--and other fine places of the sort--appeared to me +better suited for municipal buildings; the beams and flint in +Cheshire reminded me of Earl's Court; and such castles as I had +seen looked like the pictures of the Rhine on my blotting-book. I +was quite ignorant and "Scottish baronial" thrilled me. + +What made Glen really unique was not its architecture but its +situation. The road by which you approached it was a cul-de-sac +and led to nothing but moors. This--and the fact of its being ten +miles from a railway station--gave it security in its wildness. +Great stretches of heather swept down to the garden walls; and, +however many heights you climbed, moor upon moor rose in front of +you. + +Evan Charteris [Footnote: The Hon. Evan Charteris] said that my +hair was biography: as it is my only claim to beauty, I would like +to think that this is true, but the hills at Glen are my real +biography. + +Nature inoculates its lovers from its own culture; sea, downs and +moors produce a different type of person. Shepherds, fishermen and +poachers are a little like what they contemplate and, were it +possible to ask the towns to tell us whom they find most +untamable, I have not a doubt that they would say, those who are +born on the moors. + +I married late--at the age of thirty--and spent all my early life +at Glen. I was a child of the heather and quite untamable. After +my sister Laura Lyttelton died, my brother Eddy and I lived alone +with my parents for nine years at Glen. + +When he was abroad shooting big game, I spent long days out of +doors, seldom coming in for lunch. Both my pony and my hack were +saddled from 7 a.m., ready for me to ride, every day of my life. I +wore the shortest of tweed skirts, knickerbockers of the same +stuff, top-boots, a covert-coat and a coloured scarf round my +head. I was equipped with a book, pencils, cigarettes and food. +Every shepherd and poacher knew me; and I have often shared my +"piece" with them, sitting in the heather near the red burns, or +sheltered from rain in the cuts and quarries of the open road. + +After my first great sorrow--the death of my sister Laura--I was +suffocated in the house and felt I had to be out of doors from +morning till night. + +One day I saw an old shepherd called Gowanlock coming up to me, +holding my pony by the rein. I had never noticed that it had +strayed away and, after thanking him, I observed him looking at me +quietly--he knew something of the rage and anguish that Laura's +death had brought into my heart--and putting his hand on my +shoulder, he said: + +"My child, there's no contending. ... Ay--ay"--shaking his +beautiful old head--"THAT IS SO, there's no contending. ..." + +Another day, when it came on to rain, I saw a tramp crouching +under the dyke, holding an umbrella over his head and eating his +lunch. I went and sat down beside him and we fell into desultory +conversation. He had a grand, wild face and I felt some curiosity +about him; but he was taciturn and all he told me was that he was +walking to the Gordon Arms, on his way to St. Mary's Loch. I asked +him every sort of question--as to where he had come from, where he +was going to and what he wanted to do--but he refused to gratify +my curiosity, so I gave him one of my cigarettes and a light and +we sat peacefully smoking together in silence. When the rain +cleared, I turned to him and said: + +"You seem to walk all day and go nowhere; when you wake up in the +morning, how do you shape your course?" + +To which he answered: + +"I always turn my back to the wind." + +Border people are more intelligent than those born in the South; +and the people of my birthplace are a hundred years in advance of +the Southern English even now. + +When I was fourteen, I met a shepherd-boy reading a French book. +It was called "Le Secret de Delphine." I asked him how he came to +know French and he told me it was the extra subject he had been +allowed to choose for studying in his holidays; he walked eighteen +miles a day to school--nine there and nine back--taking his +chance of a lift from any passing vehicle. I begged him to read +out loud to me, but he was shy of his accent and would not do it. +The Lowland Scotch were a wonderful people in my day. + +I remember nothing unhappy in my glorious youth except the +violence of our family quarrels. Reckless waves of high and low +spirits, added to quick tempers, obliged my mother to separate us +for some time and forbid us to sleep in the same bedroom. We raged +and ragged till the small hours of the morning, which kept us thin +and the household awake. + +My mother told me two stories of myself as a little child: + +"When you were sent for to come downstairs, Margot, the nurse +opened the door and you walked in--generally alone--saying, +'Here's me! ...'" + +This rather sanguine opening does not seem to have been +sufficiently checked. She went on to say: + +"I was dreadfully afraid you would be upset and ill when I took +you one day to the Deaf and Dumb Asylum in Glasgow, as you felt +things with passionate intensity. Before starting I lifted you on +to my knee and said, 'You know, darling, I am going to take you to +see some poor people who cannot speak.' At which you put your arms +round my neck and said, with consoling emphasis, 'I will soon make +them speak!'" + +The earliest event I can remember was the arrival of the new baby, +my brother Jack, when I was two years old. Dr. Cox was spoiling my +mother's good-night visit while I was being dried after my bath. +My pink flannel dressing-gown, with white buttonhole stitching, +was hanging over the fender; and he was discussing some earnest +subject in a low tone. He got up and, pinching my chin said: + +"She will be very angry, but we will give her a baby of her own," +or words to that effect. + +The next day a huge doll obliterated from my mind the new baby +which had arrived that morning. + +We were left very much alone in our nursery, as my mother +travelled from pillar to post, hunting for health for her child +Pauline. Our nurse, Mrs. Hills--called "Missuls" for short--left +us on my tenth birthday to become my sister's lady's-maid, and +this removed our first and last restriction. + +We were wild children and, left to ourselves, had the time of our +lives. I rode my pony up the front stairs and tried to teach my +father's high-stepping barouche-horses to jump--crashing their +knees into the hurdles in the field--and climbed our incredibly +dangerous roof, sitting on the sweep's ladder by moonlight in my +nightgown. I had scrambled up every tree, walked on every wall and +knew every turret at Glen. I ran along the narrow ledges of the +slates in rubber shoes at terrific heights. This alarmed other +people so much that my father sent for me one day to see him in +his "business room" and made me swear before God that I would give +up walking on the roof; and give it up I did, with many tears. + +Laura and I were fond of acting and dressing up. We played at +being found in dangerous and adventurous circumstances in the +garden. One day the boys were rabbit-shooting and we were acting +with the doctor's daughter. I had spoilt the game by running round +the kitchen-garden wall instead of being discovered--as I was +meant to be--in a Turkish turban, smoking on the banks of the +Bosphorus. Seeing that things were going badly and that the others +had disappeared, I took a wild jump into the radishes. On landing +I observed a strange gentleman coming up the path. He looked at my +torn gingham frock, naked legs, tennis shoes and dishevelled curls +under an orange turban; and I stood still and gazed at him. + +"This is a wonderful place," he said; to which I replied: + +"You like it?" + +HE: "I would like to see the house. I hear there are beautiful +things in it." + +MARGOT: "I think the drawing-rooms are all shut up." + +HE: "How do you know? Surely you could manage to get hold of a +servant or some one who would take me round. Do you know any of +them?" + +I asked him if he meant the family or the servants. + +"The family," he said. + +MARGOT: "I know them very well, but I don't know you." + +"I am an artist," said the stranger; "my name is Peter Graham. Who +are you?" + +"I am an artist too!" I said. "My name is Margot Tennant. I +suppose you thought I was the gardener's daughter, did you?" + +He gave a circulating smile, finishing on my turban, and said: + +"To tell you the honest truth, I had no idea what you were!" + +My earliest sorrow was when I was stealing peaches in the +conservatory and my little dog was caught in a trap set for rats. +He was badly hurt before I could squeeze under the glass slides to +save him. I was betrayed by my screams for help and caught in the +peach-house by the gardener. I was punished and put to bed, as the +large peaches were to have been shown in Edinburgh and I had eaten +five. + +We had a dancing-class at the minister's and an arithmetic-class +in our schoolroom. I was as good at the Manse as I was bad at my +sums; and poor Mr. Menzies, the Traquair schoolmaster, had +eventually to beg my mother to withdraw me from the class, as I +kept them all back. To my delight I was withdrawn; and from that +day to this I have never added a single row of figures. + +I showed a remarkable proficiency in dancing and could lift both +my feet to the level of my eyebrows with disconcerting ease. Mrs. +Wallace, the minister's wife, was shocked and said: + +"Look at Margot with her Frenchified airs!" + +I pondered often and long over this, the first remark about myself +that I can ever remember. Some one said to me: + +"Does your hair curl naturally?" + +To which I replied: + +"I don't know, but I will ask." + +I was unaware of myself and had not the slightest idea what +"curling naturally" meant. + +We had two best dresses: one made in London, which we only wore on +great occasions; the other made by my nurse, in which we went down +to dessert. These dresses gave me my first impression of civilised +life. Just as the Speaker, before clearing the House, spies +strangers, so, when I saw my black velvet skirt and pink Garibaldi +put out on the bed, I knew that something was up! The nursery +confection was of white alpaca, piped with pink, and did not +inspire the same excitement and confidence. + +We saw little of our mother in our youth and I asked Laura one day +if she thought she said her prayers; I would not have remembered +this had it not been that Laura was profoundly shocked. The +question was quite uncalled for and had no ulterior motive, but I +never remembered my mother or any one else talking to us about the +Bible or hearing us our prayers. Nevertheless we were all deeply +religious, by which no one need infer that we were good. There was +one service a week, held on Sundays, in Traquair Kirk, which every +one went to; and the shepherds' dogs kept close to their masters' +plaids, hung over the high box-pews, all the way down the aisle. I +have heard many fine sermons in Scotland, but our minister was not +a good preacher; and we were often dissolved in laughter, sitting +in the square family pew in the gallery. My father closed his eyes +tightly all through the sermon, leaning his head on his hand. + +The Scottish Sabbath still held its own in my youth; and when I +heard that Ribblesdale and Charty played lawn tennis on Sunday +after they were married, I felt very unhappy. We had a few Sabbath +amusements, but they were not as entertaining as those described +in Miss Fowler's book, in which the men who were heathens went +into one corner of the room and the women who were Christians into +the other and, at the beating of a gong, conversion was +accomplished by a close embrace. Our Scottish Sabbaths were very +different, and I thought them more than dreary. Although I love +church music and architecture and can listen to almost any sermon +at any time and even read sermons to myself, going to church in +the country remains a sacrifice to me. The painful custom in the +Church of England of reading indistinctly and in an assumed voice +has alienated simple people in every parish; and the average +preaching is painful. In my country you can still hear a good +sermon. When staying with Lord Haldane's mother--the most +beautiful, humorous and saintly of old ladies--I heard an +excellent sermon at Auchterarder on this very subject, the +dullness of Sundays. The minister said that, however brightly the +sun shone on stained glass windows, no one could guess what they +were really like from the outside; it was from the inside only +that you should judge of them. + +Another time I heard a man end his sermon by saying: + +"And now, my friends, do your duty and don't look upon the world +with eyes jaundiced by religion." + +My mother hardly ever mentioned religion to us and, when the +subject was brought up by other people, she confined her remarks +to saying in a weary voice and with a resigned sigh that God's +ways were mysterious. She had suffered many sorrows and, in +estimating her lack of temperament, I do not think I made enough +allowance for them. No true woman ever gets over the loss of a +child; and her three eldest had died before I was born. + +I was the most vital of the family and what the nurses described +as a "venturesome child." Our coachman's wife called me "a little +Turk." Self-willed, excessively passionate, painfully truthful, +bold as well as fearless and always against convention, I was, no +doubt, extremely difficult to bring up. + +My mother was not lucky with her governesses--we had two at a +time, and of every nationality, French, German, Swiss, Italian and +Greek--but, whether through my fault or our governesses', I never +succeeded in making one of them really love me. Mary Morison, +[Foot note: Miss Morison, a cousin of Mr. William Archer's.] who +kept a high school for young ladies in Innerleithen, was the first +person who influenced me and my sister Laura. She is alive now and +a woman of rare intellect and character. She was fonder of Laura +than of me, but so were most people. + +Here I would like to say something about my sister and Alfred +Lyttelton, whom she married in 1885. + +A great deal of nonsense has been written and talked about Laura. +There are two printed accounts of her that are true: one has been +written by the present Mrs. Alfred Lyttelton, in generous and +tender passages in the life of her husband, and the other by A. G. +C. Liddell; but even these do not quite give the brilliant, witty +Laura of my heart. I will quote what my dear friend, Doll Liddell, +wrote of her in his Notes from the Life of an Ordinary Mortal: + +My acquaintance with Miss Tennant, which led to a close intimacy +with herself, and afterwards with her family, was an event of such +importance in my life that I feel I ought to attempt some +description of her. This is not an easy task, as a more +indescribable person never existed, for no one could form a +correct idea of what she was like who had not had opportunities of +feeling her personal charm. Her looks were certainly not striking +at first sight, though to most persons who had known her some +weeks she would often seem almost beautiful. To describe her +features would give no idea of the brightness and vivacity of her +expression, or of that mixture of innocence and mischief, as of a +half-child, half-Kelpie, which distinguished her. Her figure was +very small but well made, and she was always prettily and daintily +dressed. If the outward woman is difficult to describe, what can +be said of her character? + +To begin with her lighter side, she had reduced fascination to a +fine art in a style entirely her own. I have never known her meet +any man, and hardly any woman, whom she could not subjugate in a +few days. It is as difficult to give any idea of her methods as to +describe a dance when the music is unheard. Perhaps one may say +that her special characteristic was the way in which she combined +the gaiety of a child with the tact and aplomb of a grown woman. +... Her victims, after their period of enchantment, generally +became her devoted friends. + +This trifling was, however, only the ripple on the surface. In the +deeper parts of her nature was a fund of earnestness and a +sympathy which enabled her to throw herself into the lives of +other people in a quite unusual way, and was one of the great +secrets of the general affection she inspired. It was not, +however, as is sometimes the case with such feelings, merely +emotional, but impelled her to many kindnesses and to constant, +though perhaps somewhat impulsive, efforts to help her fellows of +all sorts and conditions. + +On her mental side she certainly gave the impression, from the +originality of her letters and sayings, and her appreciation of +what was best in literature, that her gifts were of a high order. +In addition, she had a subtle humour and readiness, which made her +repartees often delightful and produced phrases and fancies of +characteristic daintiness. But there was something more than all +this, an extra dose of life, which caused a kind of electricity to +flash about her wherever she went, lighting up all with whom she +came in contact. I am aware that this description will seem +exaggerated, and will be put down to the writer having dwelt in +her "Aeaean isle" but I think that if it should meet the eyes of +any who knew her in her short life, they will understand what it +attempts to convey. + +This is good, but his poem is even better; and there is a +prophetic touch in the line, "Shadowed with something of the +future years." + + A face upturned towards the midnight sky, + Pale in the glimmer of the pale starlight, + And all around the black and boundless night, + And voices of the winds which bode and cry. + A childish face, but grave with curves that lie + Ready to breathe in laughter or in tears, + Shadowed with something of the future years + That makes one sorrowful, I know not why. + O still, small face, like a white petal torn + From a wild rose by autumn winds and flung + On some dark stream the hurrying waves among: + By what strange fates and whither art thou borne? + +Laura had many poems written to her from many lovers. My daughter +Elizabeth Bibesco's godfather, Godfrey Webb--a conspicuous member +of the Souls, not long since dead--wrote this of her: + +"HALF CHILD, HALF WOMAN." + +Tennyson's description of Laura in 1883: + + "Half child, half woman"--wholly to be loved + By either name she found an easy way + Into my heart, whose sentinels all proved + Unfaithful to their trust, the luckless day + She entered there. "Prudence and reason both! + Did you not question her? How was it pray + She so persuaded you?" "Nor sleep nor sloth," + They cried, "o'ercame us then, a CHILD at play + Went smiling past us, and then turning round + Too late your heart to save, a woman's face we found." + +Laura was not a plaster saint; she was a generous, clamative, +combative little creature of genius, full of humour, imagination, +temperament and impulse. + +Some one reading this memoir will perhaps say: + +"I wonder what Laura and Margot were really like, what the +differences and what the resemblances between them were." + +The men who could answer this question best would be Lord +Gladstone, Arthur Balfour, Lord Midleton, Sir Rennell Rodd, or +Lord Curzon (of Kedleston). I can only say what I think the +differences and resemblances were. + +Strictly speaking, I was better-looking than Laura, but she had +rarer and more beautiful eyes. Brains are such a small part of +people that I cannot judge of them as between her and me; and, at +the age of twenty-three, when she died, few of us are at the +height of our powers, but Laura made and left a deeper impression +on the world in her short life than any one that I have ever +known. What she really had to a greater degree than other people +was true spirituality, a feeling of intimacy with the other world +and a sense of the love and wisdom of God and His plan of life. +Her mind was informed by true religion; and her heart was fixed. +This did not prevent her from being a very great flirt. The first +time that a man came to Glen and liked me better than Laura, she +was immensely surprised--not more so than I was--and had it not +been for the passionate love which we cherished for each other, +there must inevitably have been much jealousy between us. + +On several occasions the same man proposed to both of us, and we +had to find out from each other what our intentions were. + +I only remember being hurt by Laura on one occasion and it came +about in this way. We were always dressed alike, and as we were +the same size; "M" and "L" had to be written in our clothes as we +grew older. + +One day, about the time of which I am writing, I was thirteen; I +took a letter out of the pocket of what I thought was my skirt and +read it; it was from Laura to my eldest sister Posie and, though I +do not remember it all, one sentence was burnt into me: + +"Does it not seem extraordinary that Margot should be teaching a +Sunday class?" + +I wondered why any one should think it extraordinary! I went +upstairs and cried in a small black cupboard, where I generally +disappeared when life seemed too much for me. + +The Sunday class I taught need have disturbed no one, for I regret +to relate that, after a striking lesson on the birth of Christ, +when I asked my pupils who the Virgin was, one of the most +promising said: + +"Queen Victoria!" + +The idea had evidently gone abroad that I was a frivolous +character; this hurt and surprised me. Naughtiness and frivolity +are different, and I was always deeply in earnest. + +Laura was more gentle than I was; and her goodness resolved itself +into greater activity. + +She and I belonged to a reading-class. I read more than she did +and at greater speed, but we were all readers and profited by a +climate which kept us indoors and a fine library. The class +obliged us to read an hour a day, which could not be called +excessive, but the real test was doing the same thing at the same +time. I would have preferred three or four hours' reading on wet +days and none on fine, But not so our Edinburgh tutor. + +Laura started the Girls' Friendly Society in the village, which +was at that time famous for its drunkenness and immorality. We +drove ourselves to the meetings in a high two-wheeled dog-cart +behind a fast trotter, coming back late in pitch darkness along +icy roads. These drives to Innerleithen and our moonlight talks +are among my most precious recollections. + +At the meetings--after reading aloud to the girls while they sewed +and knitted--Laura would address them. She gave a sort of lesson, +moral, social and religious, and they all adored her. More +remarkable at her age than speaking to mill-girls were her Sunday +classes at Glen, in the housekeeper's room. I do not know one girl +now of any age--Laura was only sixteen--who could talk on +religious subjects with profit to the butler, housekeeper and +maids, or to any grown-up people, on a Sunday afternoon. + +Compared with what the young men have written and published during +this war, Laura's literary promise was not great; both her prose +and her poetry were less remarkable than her conversation. + +She was not so good a judge of character as I was and took many a +goose for a swan, but, in consequence of this, she made people of +both sexes--and even all ages--twice as good, clever and +delightful as they would otherwise have been. + +I have never succeeded in making any one the least different from +what they are and, in my efforts to do so, have lost every female +friend that I have ever had (with the exception of four). This was +the true difference between us. I have never influenced anybody +but my own two children, Elizabeth and Anthony, but Laura had such +an amazing effect upon men and women that for years after she died +they told me that she had both changed and made their lives. This +is a tremendous saying. When I die, people may turn up and try to +make the world believe that I have influenced them and women may +come forward whom I adored and who have quarrelled with me and +pretend that they always loved me, but I wish to put it on record +that they did not, or, if they did, their love is not my kind of +love and I have no use for it. + +The fact is that I am not touchy or impenitent myself and forget +that others may be and I tell people the truth about themselves, +while Laura made them feel it. I do not think I should mind +hearing from any one the naked truth about myself; and on the few +occasions when it has happened to me, I have not been in the least +offended. My chief complaint is that so few love one enough, as +one grows older, to say what they really think; nevertheless I +have often wished that I had been born with Laura's skill and tact +in dealing with men and women. In her short life she influenced +more people than I have done in over twice as many years. I have +never influenced people even enough to make them change their +stockings! And I have never succeeded in persuading any young +persons under my charge--except my own two children--to say that +they were wrong or sorry, nor at this time of life do I expect to +do so. + +There was another difference between Laura and me: she felt sad +when she refused the men who proposed to her; I pitied no man who +loved me. I told Laura that both her lovers and mine had a very +good chance of getting over it, as they invariably declared +themselves too soon. We were neither of us au fond very +susceptible. It was the custom of the house that men should be in +love with us, but I can truly say that we gave quite as much as we +received. + +I said to Rowley Leigh [Footnote: The Hon. Rowland Leigh, of +Stoneleigh Abbey.]--a friend of my brother Eddy's and one of the +first gentlemen that ever came to Glen--when he begged me to go +for a walk with him: + +"Certainly, if you won't ask me to marry you." + +To which he replied: + +"I never thought of it!" + +"That's all right!" said I, putting my arm confidingly and +gratefully through his. + +He told me afterwards that he had been making up his mind and +changing it for days as to how he should propose. + +Sir David Tennant, a former Speaker at Cape Town and the most +distant of cousins, came to stay at Glen with his son, a young man +of twenty. After a few days, the young man took me into one of the +conservatories and asked me to marry him. I pointed out that I +hardly knew him by sight, and that "he was running hares." He took +it extremely well and, much elated, I returned to the house to +tell Laura. I found her in tears; she told me Sir David Tennant +had asked her to marry him and she had been obliged to refuse. I +cheered her up by pointing out that it would have been awkward had +we both accepted, for, while remaining my sister, she would have +become my mother-in-law and my husband's stepmother. + +We were not popular in Peeblesshire, partly because we had no +county connection, but chiefly because we were Liberals. My father +had turned out the sitting Tory, Sir Graham Montgomery, of Stobo, +and was member for the two counties Peeblesshire and Selkirkshire. +As Sir Graham had represented the counties for thirty years, this +was resented by the Montgomery family, who proceeded to cut us. +Laura was much worried over this, but I was amused. I said the +love of the Maxwell Stuarts, Maxwell Scotts, Wolfe Murrays and Sir +Thomas--now Lord--Carmichael was quite enough for me and that if +she liked she could twist Sir Graham Montgomery round her little +finger; as a matter of fact, neither Sir Graham nor his sons +disliked us. I met Basil Montgomery at Traquair House many years +after my papa's election, where we were entertained by Herbert +Maxwell--the owner of one of the most romantic houses in Scotland, +and our most courteous and affectionate neighbour. Not knowing who +he was, I was indignant when he told me he thought Peeblesshire +was dull; I said where we lived it was far from dull and asked him +if he knew many people in the county. To which he answered: + +"Chiefly the Stobo lot." + +At this I showed him the most lively sympathy and invited him to +come to Glen. In consequence of this visit he told me years +afterwards his fortune had been made. My father took a fancy to +him and at my request employed him on the Stock Exchange. + +Laura and I shared the night nursery together till she married; +and, in spite of mixed proposals, we were devoted friends. We read +late in bed, sometimes till three in the morning, and said our +prayers out loud to each other every night. We were discussing +imagination one night and were comparing Hawthorne, De Quincey, +Poe and others, in consequence of a dispute arising out of one of +our pencil-games; and we argued till the housemaid came in with +the hot water at eight in the morning. + +I will digress here to explain our after-dinner games. There were +several, but the best were what Laura and I invented: one was +called "Styles," another "Clumps"--better known as "Animal, +Vegetable or Mineral"--a third, "Epigrams" and the most dangerous +of all "Character Sketches." We were given no time-limit, but sat +feverishly silent in different corners of the room, writing as +hard as we could. When it was agreed that we had all written +enough, the manuscripts were given to our umpire, who read them +out loud. Votes were then taken as to the authorship, which led to +first-rate general conversation on books, people and manner of +writing. We have many interesting umpires, beginning with Bret +Harte and Laurence Oliphant and going on to Arthur Balfour, George +Curzon, George Wyndham, Lionel Tennyson, [Footnote: Brother of +the present Lord Tennyson.] Harry Cust and Doll Liddell: all good +writers themselves. + +Some of our guests preferred making caricatures to competing in +the more ambitious line of literature. I made a drawing of the +Dowager Countess of Aylesbury, better known as "Lady A."; Colonel +Saunderson--a famous Orangeman--did a sketch of Gladstone for me; +while Alma Tadema gave me one of Queen Victoria, done in four +lines. + +These games were good for our tempers and a fine training; any +loose vanity, jealousy, or over-competitiveness were certain to be +shown up; and those who took the buttons off the foils in the duel +of argument--of which I have seen a good deal in my life--were +instantly found out. We played all our games with much greater +precision and care than they are played now and from practice +became extremely good at them. I never saw a playing-card at Glen +till after I married, though--when we were obliged to dine +downstairs to prevent the company being thirteen at dinner--I +vaguely remember a back view of my grandpapa at the card-table +playing whist. + +Laura was a year and a half older than I was and came out in 1881, +while I was in Dresden. The first party that she and I went to +together was a political crush given by Sir William and Lady +Harcourt. I was introduced to Spencer Lyttleton and shortly after +this Laura met his brother Alfred. + +One day, as she and I were leaving St. Paul's Cathedral, she +pointed out a young man to me and said: + +"Go and ask Alfred Lyttelton to come to Glen any time this +autumn," which I promptly did. + +The advent of Alfred into our family coincided with that of +several new men, the Charterises, Balfours, George Curzon, George +Wyndham, Harry Cust, the Crawleys, Jack Pease, "Harry" Paulton, +Lord Houghton, Mark Napier, Doll Liddell and others. High hopes +had been entertained by my father that some of these young men +might marry us, but after the reception we gave to Lord Lymington +--who, to do him justice, never proposed to any of us except in the +paternal imagination--his nerve was shattered and we were left to +ourselves. + +Some weeks before Alfred's arrival, Laura had been much disturbed +by hearing that we were considered "fast"; she told me that +receiving men at midnight in our bedroom shocked people and that +we ought, perhaps, to give it up. I listened closely to what she +had to say, and at the end remarked that it appeared to me to be +quite absurd. Godfrey Webb agreed with me and said that people who +were easily shocked were like women who sell stale pastry in +cathedral towns; and he advised us to take no notice whatever of +what any one said. We hardly knew the meaning of the word "fast" +and, as my mother went to bed punctually at eleven, it was +unthinkable that men and women friends should not be allowed to +join us. Our bedroom had been converted by me out of the night- +nursery into a sitting-room. The shutters were removed and book- +shelves put in their place, an idea afterwards copied by my +friends. The Morris carpet and chintzes I had discovered for +myself and chosen in London; and my walls were ornamented with +curious objects, varying from caricatures and crucifixes to prints +of prize-fights, fox-hunts, Virgins and Wagner. In one of the +turrets I hung my clothes; in the other I put an altar on which I +kept my books of prayer and a skull which was given to me by the +shepherd's son and which is on my bookshelf now; we wore charming +dressing-jackets and sat up in bed with coloured cushions behind +our backs, while the brothers and their friends sat on the floor +or in comfortable chairs round the room. On these occasions the +gas was turned low, a brilliant fire made up and either a guest or +one of us would read by the light of a single candle, tell ghost- +stories or discuss current affairs: politics, people and books. +Not only the young, but the old men came to our gatherings. I +remember Jowett reading out aloud to us Thomas Hill Green's lay +sermons; and when he had finished I asked him how much he had +loved Green, to which he replied: + +"I did not love him at all." + +That these midnight meetings should shock any one appeared +fantastic; and as most people in the house agreed with me, they +were continued. + +It was not this alone that disturbed Laura; she wanted to marry a +serious, manly fellow, but as she was a great flirt, other types +of a more brilliant kind obscured this vision and she had become +profoundly undecided over her own love-affairs; they had worked so +much upon her nerves that when Mr. Lyttelton came to Glen she was +in bed with acute neuralgia and unable to see him. + +My father welcomed Alfred warmly, for, apart from his charming +personality, he was Gladstone's nephew and had been brought up in +the Liberal creed. + +On the evening of his arrival, we all went out after dinner. There +had been a terrific gale which had destroyed half a wood on a hill +in front of the library windows and we wanted to see the roots of +the trees blown up by dynamite. It was a moonlight night, but the +moon is always brighter in novels than in life and it was pitch +dark. Alfred and I, walking arm in arm, talked gaily to each other +as we stumbled over the broken brushwood by the side of the Quair +burn. As we approached the wood a white birch lay across the water +at a slanting angle and I could not resist leaving Alfred's side +to walk across it. It was, however, too slippery for me and I +fell. Alfred plunged into the burn and scrambled me out. I landed +on my feet and, except for sopping stockings, no harm was done. +Our party had scattered in the dark and, as it was past midnight, +we walked back to the house alone. When we returned, we found +everybody had gone to their rooms and Alfred suggested carrying me +up to bed. As I weighed under eight stone, he lifted me up like a +toy and deposited me on my bed. Kneeling down, he kissed my hand +and said good night to me. + +Two days after this my brother Eddy and I travelled North for the +Highland meeting. Laura, who had been gradually recovering, was +well enough to leave her room that day; and I need hardly say that +this had the immediate effect of prolonging Alfred's visit. + +On my return to Glen ten days later she told me she had made up +her mind to marry Alfred Lyttleton. + +After what Mrs. Lyttelton has written of her husband, there is +little to add, but I must say one word of my brother-in-law as he +appeared to me in those early days. + +Alfred Lyttelton was a vital, splendid young man of fervent +nature, even more spoilt than we were. He was as cool and as +fundamentally unsusceptible as he was responsive and emotional. +Every one adored him; he combined the prowess at games of a Greek +athlete with moral right-mindedness of a high order. He was +neither a gambler nor an artist. He respected discipline, but +loathed asceticism. + +What interested me most in him was not his mind--which lacked +elasticity--but his religion, his unquestioning obedience to the +will of God and his perfect freedom from cant. His mentality was +brittle and he was as quick-tempered in argument as he was sunny +and serene in games. There are people who thought Alfred was a man +of strong physical passions, wrestling with temptation till he had +achieved complete self-mastery, but nothing was farther from the +truth. In him you found combined an ardent nature, a cool +temperament and a peppery intellectual temper. Alfred would have +been justified in taking out a patent in himself as an Englishman, +warranted like a dye never to lose colour. To him most foreigners +were frogs. In Edward Lyttelton's admirable monograph of his +brother, you will read that one day, when Alfred was in the train, +sucking an orange, "a small, grubby Italian, leaning on his +walking-stick, smoking a cheroot at the station," was looked +upon, not only by Alfred but by his biographer, as an +"irresistible challenge to fling the juicy, but substantial, +fragment full at the unsuspecting foreigner's cheek." At this we +are told that "Alfred collapsed into noble convulsions of +laughter." I quote this incident, as it illustrates the difference +between the Tennant and the Lyttelton sense of humour. Their +laughter was a tornado or convulsion to which they succumbed; and +even the Hagley ragging, though, according to Edward Lyttelton's +book, it was only done with napkins, sounds formidable enough. +Laura and Alfred enjoyed many things together--books, music and +going to church--but they did not laugh at the same things. I +remember her once saying to me in a dejected voice: + +"Wouldn't you have thought that, laughing as loud as the +Lytteltons do, they would have loved Lear? Alfred says none of +them think him a bit funny and was quite testy when I said his was +the only family in the world that didn't." + +It was his manliness, spirituality and freedom from pettiness that +attracted Alfred to Laura; he also had infinite charm. It might +have been said of him what the Dowager Lady Grey wrote of her +husband to Henry when thanking him for his sympathy: + +"He lit so many fires in cold rooms." + +After Alfred's death, my husband said this of him in the House of +Commons: + +It would not, I think, be doing justice to the feelings which are +uppermost in many of our hearts, if we passed to the business of +the day without taking notice of the fresh gap which has been made +in our ranks by the untimely death of Mr. Alfred Lyttelton. It is +a loss of which I hardly trust myself to speak; for, apart from +ties of relationship, there had subsisted between us for thirty- +three years, a close friendship and affection which no political +differences were ever allowed to loosen, or even to affect. Nor +could I better describe it than by saying that he, perhaps, of all +men of this generation, came nearest to the mould and ideal of +manhood, which every English father would like to see his son +aspire to, and, if possible, to attain. The bounty of nature, +enriched and developed not only by early training, but by constant +self-discipline through life, blended in him gifts and graces +which, taken alone, are rare, and in such attractive union are +rarer still. Body, mind and character, the schoolroom, the cricket +field, the Bar, the House of Commons--each made its separate +contribution to the faculty and the experience of a many-sided and +harmonious whole. But what he was he gave--gave with such ease +and exuberance that I think it may be said without exaggeration +that wherever he moved he seemed to radiate vitality and charm. He +was, as we here know, a strenuous fighter. He has left behind him +no resentments and no enmity; nothing but a gracious memory of a +manly and winning personality, the memory of one who served with +an unstinted measure of devotion his generation and country. He +has been snatched away in what we thought was the full tide of +buoyant life, still full of promise and of hope. What more can we +say? We can only bow once again before the decrees of the Supreme +Wisdom. Those who loved him--and they are many, in all schools of +opinion, in all ranks and walks of life--when they think of him, +will say to themselves: + + This is the happy warrior, this is he + Who every man in arms should wish to be. + +On the occasion of Alfred Lyttelton's second visit to Glen, I will +quote my diary: + +"Laura came into my bedroom. She was in a peignoir and asked me +what she should wear for dinner. I said: + +"'Your white muslin, and hurry up. Mr. Lyttelton is strumming in +the Doo'cot and you had better go and entertain him, poor fellow, +as he is leaving for London tonight.' + +"She tied a blue ribbon in her hair, hastily thrust her diamond +brooch into her fichu and then, with her eyes very big and her +hair low and straight upon her forehead, she went into our +sitting-room (we called it the Doo'cot, because we all quarrelled +there). Feeling rather small, but, half-shy, half-bold, she shut +the door and, leaning against it, watched Alfred strumming. He +turned and gazed at the little figure so near him, so delicate in +her white dress. + +"The silence was broken by Alfred asking her if any man ever left +Glen without telling her that he loved her; but suddenly all talk +stopped and she was in his arms, hiding her little face against +his hard coat. There was no one to record what followed; only the +night rising with passionate eyes: + +'The hiding, receiving night that talks not.' + +"They were married on the 10th of May, 1885. "In April of 1886, +Laura's baby was expected any day; and my mother was anxious that +I should not be near her when the event took place. The Lytteltons +lived in Upper Brook Street; and, Grosvenor Square being near, it +was thought that any suffering on her part might make a lasting +and painful impression on me, so I was sent down to Easton Grey to +stay with Lucy and hunt in the Badminton country. Before going +away, I went round to say good-bye to Laura and found her in a +strange humour. + +"LAURA: 'I am sure I shall die with my baby.' + +"MARGOT: 'How can you talk such nonsense? Every one thinks that. +Look at mamma! She had twelve children without a pang!' + +"LAURA: 'I know she did; but I am sure I shall die.' + +"MARGOT: 'I am just as likely to be killed out hunting as you are +to die, darling! It makes me miserable to hear you talk like +this.' + +"LAURA: 'If I die, Margot, I want you to read my will to the +relations and people that will be in my bedroom. It is in that +drawer. Promise me you will not forget.' + +"MARGOT: 'All right, darling, I will; but let us kneel down and +pray that, whether it is me or you who die first, if it is God's +will, one of us may come to the other down here and tell us the +truth about the next world and console us as much as possible in +this!'" + +We knelt and prayed and, though I was more removed from the world +and in the humour both to see and to hear what was not material, +in my grief over Laura's death, which took place ten days later, I +have never heard from her or of her from that day to this. + +Mrs. Lyttelton has told the story of her husband's first marriage +with so much perfection that I hesitate to go over the same ground +again, but, as my sister Laura's death had more effect on me than +any event in my life, except my own marriage and the birth of my +children, I must copy a short account of it written at that time: + +'On Saturday, 17th April, 1886, I was riding down a green slope in +Gloucestershire while the Beaufort hounds were scattered below +vainly trying to pick up the scent; they were on a stale line and +the result had been general confusion. It was a hot day and the +woods were full of children and primroses. + +"The air was humming with birds and insects, nature wore an +expectant look and all the hedge-rows sparkled with the spangles +of the spring. There was a prickly gap under a tree which divided +me from my companions. I rode down to jump it, but, whether from +breeding, laziness or temper, my horse turned round and refused to +move. I took my foot out of the stirrup and gave him a slight +kick. I remember nothing after that till I woke up in a cottage +with a tremendous headache. They said that the branch was too low, +or the horse jumped too big and a withered bough had caught me in +the face. In consequence I had concussion of the brain; and my +nose and upper lip were badly torn. I was picked up by my early +fiance. He tied my lip to my hair--as it was reposing on my chin-- +and took me home in a cart. The doctor was sent for, but there was +no time to give me chloroform. I sat very still from vanity while +three stitches were put through the most sensitive part of my +nose. When it was all over, I looked at myself in the looking- +glass and burst into tears. I had never been very pretty ("worse +than that," as the Marquis of Soveral [Footnote: The Late +Portuguese Minister.] said) but I had a straight nose and a look +of intelligence; and now my face would be marked for life like a +German student's. + +"The next day a telegram arrived saying: "'Laura confined--a boy-- +both doing well.' + +"We sent back a message saying: "'Hurrah and blessing!' + +On Sunday we received a letter from Charty saying Laura was very +ill and another on Monday telling us to go to London. I was in a +state of acute anxiety and said to the doctor I must go and see +Laura immediately, but he would not hear of it: + +"'Impossible! You'll get erysipelas and die. Most dangerous to +move with a face like that,' he said. + +"On the occasion of his next visit, I was dressed and walking up +and down the room in a fume of nervous excitement, for go I WOULD. +Laura was dying (I did not really think she was, but I wanted to +be near her). I insisted upon his taking the stitches out of my +face and ultimately he had to give in. At 6 p.m. I was in the +train for London, watching the telegraph-posts flying past me. + +"My mind was going over every possibility. I was sitting near her +bed with the baby on my arm, chattering over plans, arranging +peignoirs, laughing at the nurse's anecdotes, talking and +whispering over the thousand feminine things that I knew she would +be longing to hear. ... Or perhaps she was dying... asking for me +and wondering why I did not come... thinking I was hunting instead +of being with her. Oh, how often the train stopped! Did any one +really live at these stations? No one got out; they did not look +like real places; why should the train stop? Should I tell them +Laura was dying? ... We had prayed so often to die the same day. +... Surely she was not going to die... it could not be... her +vitality was too splendid, her youth too great... God would not +allow this thing. How stiff my face felt with its bandages; and if +I cried they would all come off! + +"At Swindon I had to change. I got out and sat in the vast eating- +room, with its atmosphere of soup and gas. A crowd of people were +talking of a hunting accident: this was mine. Then a woman came in +and put her bag down. A clergyman shook hands with her; he said +some one had died. I moved away. + +"'World! Trewth! The Globe! Paper, miss? Paper? ...' + +"'No, thank you.' + +"'London train!' was shouted and I got in. I knew by the loud +galloping sound that we were going between high houses and at each +gallop the wheels seemed to say, 'Too late--too late!' After a +succession of hoarse screams we dashed into Paddington. + +"It was midnight. I saw a pale, grave face, and recognised Evan +Charteris, who had come in Lady Wemyss' brougham to meet me. I +said: + +'"Is she dead?' "To which he answered: "'No, but very, very ill.' +"We drove in silence to 4 Upper Brook Street. + +Papa, Jack and Godfrey Webb stood in the hall. They stopped me as +I passed and said: 'She is no worse'; but I could not listen. I +saw Arthur Balfour and Spencer Lyttelton standing near the door of +Alfred's room. They said: "'You look ill. Have you had a fall?' + +"I explained the plaster on my swollen face and asked if I might +go upstairs to see Laura; and they said they thought I might. When +I got to the top landing, I stood in the open doorway of the +boudoir. A man was sitting in an arm-chair by a table with a +candle on it. It was Alfred and I passed on. I saw the silhouette +of a woman through the open door of Laura's room; this was Charty. +We held each other close to our hearts... her face felt hot and +her eyes were heavy. + +"'Don't look at her to-night, sweet. She is unconscious,' she +said. + +"I did not take this in and asked to be allowed to say one word to +her. ... I said: + +"'I know she'd like to see me, darling, if only just to nod to, +and I promise I will go away quickly. Indeed, indeed I would not +tire her! I want to tell her the train was late and the doctor +would not let me come up yesterday. Only one second, PLEASE, +Charty! ...' + +"'But, my darling heart, she's unconscious. She has never been +conscious all day. She would not know you!' + +"I sank stunned upon the stair. Some one touched my shoulder: + +"'You had better go to bed, it is past one. No, you can't sleep +here: there's no bed. You must lie down; a sofa won't do, you are +too ill. Very well, then, you are not ill, but you will be to- +morrow if you don't go to bed.' + +"I found myself in the street, Arthur Balfour holding one of my +arms and Spencer Lyttelton the other. They took me to 40 Grosvenor +Square. I went to bed and early next morning I went across to +Upper Brook Street. The servant looked happy: + +"'She's better, miss, and she's conscious.' + +"I flew upstairs, and Charty met me in her dressing-gown. She was +calm and capable as always, but a new look, less questioning and +more intense, had come into her face. She said: + +"'You can go in now.' + +"I felt a rushing of my soul and an over-eagerness that half- +stopped me as I opened the door and stood at the foot of the +wooden bed and gazed at what was left of Laura. + +"Her face had shrunk to the size of a child's; her lashes lay a +black wall on the whitest of cheeks; her hair was hanging dragged +up from her square brow in heavy folds upon the pillow. Her mouth +was tightly shut and a dark blood-stain marked her chin. After a +long silence, she moved and muttered and opened her eyes. She +fixed them on me, and my heart stopped. I stretched my hands out +towards her, and said, 'Laura!'... But the sound died; she did not +know me. I knew after that she could not live. + +"People went away for the Easter Holidays: Papa to North Berwick, +Arthur Balfour to Westward Ho! and every day Godfrey Webb rode a +patient cob up to the front door, to hear that she was no better. +I sat on the stairs listening to the roar of London and the clock +in the library. The doctor--Matthews Duncan--patted my head +whenever he passed me on the stair and said, in his gentle Scotch +accent: + +"'Poor little girl! Poor, poor little girl!' + +"I was glad he did not say that 'while there was life there was +hope,' or any of the medical platitudes, or I would have replied +that he LIED. There was no hope--none! ... + +"One afternoon I went with Lucy to St. George's, Hanover Square. +The old man was sweeping out the church; and we knelt and prayed. +Laura and I have often knelt side by side at that altar and I +never feel alone when I am in front of the mysterious Christ- +picture, with its bars of violet and bunches of grapes. + +"On my return I went upstairs and lay on the floor of Laura's +bedroom, watching Alfred kneeling by her side with his arms over +his head. Charty sat with her hands clasped; a single candle +behind her head transfigured her lovely hair into a halo. Suddenly +Laura opened her eyes and, turning them slowly on Charty, said: + +"'You are HEAVENLY! . . .' + +"A long pause, and then while we were all three drawing near her +bed we heard her say: + +"'I think God has forgotten me.' + +"The fire was weaving patterns on the ceiling; every shadow seemed +to be looking with pity on the silence of that room, the long +silence that has never been broken. + +"I did not go home that night, but slept at Alfred's house. Lucy +had gone to the early Communion, but I had not accompanied her, +as I was tired of praying. I must have fallen into a heavy sleep, +when suddenly I felt some one touching my bed. I woke with a start +and saw nurse standing beside me. She said in a calm voice: + +"'My dear, you must come. Don't look like that; you won't be able +to walk.' + +"Able to walk! Of course I was! I was in my dressing-gown and +downstairs in a flash and on to the bed. The room was full of +people. I lay with my arm under Laura, as I did in the old Glen +days, when after our quarrels we crept into each other's beds +to'make it up.' Alfred was holding one of her hands against his +forehead; and Charty was kneeling at her feet. + +"She looked much the same, but a deeper shadow ran under her brow +and her mouth seemed to be harder shut. I put my cheek against her +shoulder and felt the sharpness of her spine. For a minute we lay +close to each other, while the sun, fresh from the dawn, played +upon the window-blinds. ... Then her breathing stopped; she gave a +shiver and died. ... The silence was so great that I heard the +flight of Death and the morning salute her soul. + +"I went downstairs and took her will out of the drawer where she +had put it and told Alfred what she had asked me to do. The room +was dark with people; and a tall man, gaunt and fervid, was +standing up saying a prayer. When he had finished I read the will +through: + +My Will [Footnote: The only part of the will I have left out is a +few names with blank spaces which she intended to fill up.], made +by me, Laura Mary Octavia Lyttelton, February, 1886. + +"I have not much to leave behind me, should I die next month, +having my treasure deep in my heart where no one can reach it, and +where even Death cannot enter. But there are some things that have +long lain at the gates of my Joy House that in some measure have +the colour of my life in them, and would, by rights of love, +belong to those who have entered there. I should like Alfred to +give these things to my friends, not because my friends will care +so much for them, but because they will love best being where I +loved to be. + +"I want, first of all, to tell Alfred that all I have in the world +and all I am and ever shall be, belongs to him, and to him more +than any one, so that if I leave away from him anything that +speaks to him of a joy unknown to me, or that he holds dear for +any reason wise or unwise, it is his, and my dear friends will +forgive him and me. + +"So few women have been as happy as I have been every hour since I +married--so few have had such a wonderful sky of love for their +common atmosphere, that perhaps it will seem strange when I write +down that the sadness of Death and Parting is greatly lessened to +me by the fact of my consciousness of the eternal, indivisible +oneness of Alfred and me. I feel as long as he is down here I must +be here, silently, secretly sitting beside him as I do every +evening now, however much my soul is the other side, and that if +Alfred were to die, we would be as we were on earth, love as we +did this year, only fuller, quicker, deeper than ever, with a +purer passion and a wiser worship. Only in the meantime, whilst my +body is hid from him and my eyes cannot see him, let my trivial +toys be his till the morning comes when nothing will matter +because all is spirit. + +"If my baby lives I should like it to have my pearls. I do not +love my diamond necklace, so I won't leave it to any one. + +"I would like Alfred to have my Bible. It has always rather +worried him to hold because it is so full of things; but if I know +I am dying, I will clean it out, because, I suppose, he won't like +to after. I think I am fonder of it--not, I mean, because it's the +Bible--but because it's such a friend, and has been always with +me, chiefly under my pillow, ever since I had it--than of anything +I possess, and I used to read it a great deal when I was much +better than I am now. I love it very much, so, Alfred, you must +keep it for me. + +"Then the prayer book Francie [Footnote: Lady Horner, of Mells.] +gave me is what I love next, and I love it so much I feel I would +like to take it with me. Margot wants a prayer book, so I leave it +to her. It is so dirty outside, but perhaps it would be a pity to +bind it. Margot is to have my darling little Daily Light, too. + +"Then Charty is to have my paste necklace she likes, and any two +prints she cares to have, and my little trefeuille diamond brooch +--oh! and the Hope she painted for me. I love it very much, and my +amethyst beads. + +"Little Barbara is to have my blue watch, and Tommy my watch-- +there is no chain. + +"Then Lucy is to have my Frances belt, because a long time ago the +happiest days of my girlhood were when we first got to know +Francie, and she wore that belt in the blue days at St. Moritz +when we met her at church and I became her lover; and I want Lucy +to have my two Blakes and the dear little Martin Schongaun Madonna +and Baby--dear little potbellied baby, sucking his little sacred +thumb in a garden with a beautiful wall and a little pigeon-house +turret. I bought it myself, and do rather think it was clever of +me--all for a pound. + +"And Posie is to have my little diamond wreaths, and she must +leave them to Joan, [Footnote: My niece, Mrs. Jamie Lindsay.] and +she is to have my garnets too, because she used to like them, and +my Imitation and Marcus Aurelius. + +"I leave Eddy my little diamond necklace for his wife, and he must +choose a book. + +"And Frank is just going to be married, so I would like him to +have some bit of my furniture, and his wife my little silver +clock. + +"I leave Jack the little turquoise ring Graham gave me. He must +have it made into a stud. + +"Then I want Lavinia [Footnote: Lavinia Talbot is wife of the +present Bishop of Winchester] to have my bagful of silver +dressing-things Papa gave me, and the little diamond and sapphire +bangle I am so fond of; and tell her what a joy it has been to +know her, and that the little open window has let in many sunrises +on my married life. She will understand. + +"Then I want old Lucy [Footnote: Lady Frederick Cavendish, whose +husband was murdered in Ireland] to have my edition of the +"Pilgrim's Progress," that dear old one, and my photograph in the +silver frame of Alfred, if my baby dies too, otherwise it is to +belong to him (or her). Lucy was Alfred's little proxy-mother, and +she deserves him. He sent the photograph to me the first week we +were engaged, and I have carried it about ever since. I don't +think it very good. It always frightened me a little; it is so +stern and just, and the 'just man' has never been a hero of mine. +I love Alfred when he is what he is to me, and I don't feel that +is just, but generous. + +"Then I want Edward [Footnote: The late Head Master of Eton] to +have the "Days of Creation," and Charles [Footnote: The present +Lord Cobham, Alfred's eldest brother] to have my first editions of +Shelley, and Arthur [Footnote: The late Hon. Arthur Temple +Lyttelton, Bishop of Southampton] my first edition of Beaumont and +Fletcher; and Kathleen [Footnote: The Late Hon. Mrs. Arthur +Lyttelton.] is to have my little silver crucifix that opens, and +Alfred must put in a little bit of my hair, and Kathleen must keep +it for my sake--I loved her from the first. + +"I want Alfred to give my godchild, Cicely Horner,[Footnote: The +present Hon. Mrs. George Lambton.], the bird-brooch Burne Jones +designed, and the Sintram Arthur [Footnote: The Right Hon. Arthur +Balfour.], gave me. I leave my best friend, Frances, my grey +enamel and diamond bracelet, my first edition of Wilhelm Meister, +with the music folded up in it, and my Burne Jones ''spression' +drawings. Tell her I leave a great deal of my life with her, and +that I never can cease to be very near her. + +"I leave Mary Elcho [Footnote: The present Countess of Wemyss.] +my Chippendale cradle. She must not think it bad luck. I suppose +some one else possessed it once, and, after all, it isn't as if I +died in it! She gave me the lovely hangings, and I think she will +love it a little for my sake, because I always loved cradles and +all cradled things; and I leave her my diamond and red enamel +crescent Arthur gave me. She must wear it because two of her dear +friends are in it, as it were. And I would like her to have oh! +such a blessed life, because I think her character is so full of +blessed things and symbols. ... + +"I leave Arthur Balfour--Alfred's and my dear, deeply loved +friend, who has given me so many happy hours since I married, and +whose sympathy, understanding, and companionship in the deep sense +of the word has never been withheld from me when I have sought it, +which has not been seldom this year of my blessed Vita Nuova--I +leave him my Johnson. He taught me to love that wisest of men--and +I have much to be grateful for in this. I leave him, too, my +little ugly Shelley--much read, but not in any way beautiful; if +he marries I should like him to give his wife my little red enamel +harp--I shall never see her if I die now, but I have so often +created her in the Islands of my imagination--and as a Queen has +she reigned there, so that I feel in the spirit we are in some +measure related by some mystic tie." + +Out of the many letters Alfred received, this is the one I liked +best: + +HAWARDEN CASTLE, + +April 27th, 1886. MY DEAR ALFRED, + +It is a daring and perhaps a selfish thing to speak to you at a +moment when your mind and heart are a sanctuary in which God is +speaking to you in tones even more than usually penetrating and +solemn. Certainly it pertains to few to be chosen to receive such +lessons as are being taught you. If the wonderful trials of +Apostles, Saints and Martyrs have all meant a love in like +proportion wonderful, then, at this early period of your life, +your lot has something in common with theirs, and you will bear +upon you life-long marks of a great and peculiar dispensation +which may and should lift you very high. Certainly you two who are +still one were the persons whom in all the vast circuit of London +life those near you would have pointed to as exhibiting more than +any others the promise and the profit of BOTH worlds. The call +upon you for thanksgiving seemed greater than on any one--you will +not deem it lessened now. How eminently true it is of her that in +living a short she fulfilled a long time. If Life is measured by +intensity, hers was a very long life--and yet with that rich +development of mental gifts, purity and singleness made her one of +the little children of whom and of whose like is the Kingdom of +Heaven. Bold would it indeed be to say such a being died +prematurely. All through your life, however it be prolonged, what +a precious possession to you she will be. But in giving her to +your bodily eye and in taking her away the Almighty has specially +set His seal upon you. To Peace and to God's gracious mercy let us +heartily, yes, cheerfully, commend her. Will you let Sir Charles +and Lady Tennant and all her people know how we feel with and for +them? + +Ever your affec. + +W. E. GLADSTONE. + +Matthew Arnold sent me this poem because Jowett told him I said it +might have been written for Laura: + +REQUIESCAT + + Strew on her roses, roses, + And never a spray of yew! + In quiet she reposes; + Ah, would that I did too! + + Her mirth the world required; + She bathed it in smiles of glee. + But her heart was tired, tired, + And now they let her be. + + Her life was turning, turning, + In mazes of heat and sound, + But for peace her soul was yearning, + And now peace laps her round. + + Her cabin'd, ample spirit, + It flutter'd and fail'd for breath. + To-night it doth inherit + The vasty hall of death. + + + + + +CHAPTER III + +SLUMMING IN LONDON; ADVENTURE IN WHITECHAPEL; BRAWL IN A SALOON; +OUTINGS WITH WORKING GIRLS--MARGOT MEETS THE PRINCESS OF WALES-- +GOSSIP OVER FRIENDSHIP WITH PRINCE OF WALES--LADY RANDOLPH +CHURCHILL'S BALL--MARGOT'S FIRST HUNT; ECCENTRIC DUKE OF BEAUFORT; +FALLS IN LOVE AT SEVENTEEN; COMMANDEERS A HORSE + + +After Laura's death I spent most of my time in the East End of +London. One day, when I was walking in the slums of Whitechapel, I +saw a large factory and girls of all ages pouring in and out of +it. Seeing the name "Cliffords" on the door, I walked in and asked +a workman to show me his employer's private room. He indicated +with his finger where it was and I knocked and went in. Mr. +Cliffords, the owner of the factory, had a large red face and was +sitting in a bare, squalid room, on a hard chair, in front of his +writing-table. He glanced at me as I shut the door, but did not +stop writing. I asked him if I might visit his factory once or +twice a week and talk to the work-girls. At this he put his pen +down and said: + +"Now, miss, what good do you suppose you will do here with my +girls?" + +MARGOT: "It is not exactly THAT. I am not sure I can do any one +any good, but do you think I could do your girls any harm?" + +CLIFFORDS: "Most certainly you could and, what is more, you WILL" + +MARGOT: "How?" + +CLIFFORDS: "Why, bless my soul! You'll keep them all jawing and +make them late for their work! As it is, they don't do overmuch. +Do you think my girls are wicked and that you are going to make +them good and happy and save them and all that kind of thing?" + +MARGOT: "Not at all; I was not thinking of them, _I_ am so very +unhappy myself." + +CLIFFORDS (RATHER MOVED AND LOOKING AT ME WITH CURIOSITY): "Oh, +that's quite another matter! If you've come here to ask me a +favour, I might consider it." + +MARGOT (HUMBLY): "That is just what I have come for. I swear I +would only be with your girls in the dinner interval, but if by +accident I arrive at the wrong time I will see that they do not +stop their work. It is far more likely that they won't listen to +me at all than that they will stop working to hear what I have to +say." + +CLIFFORDS: "Maybe!" + +So it was fixed up. He shook me by the hand, never asked my name +and I visited his factory three days a week for eight years when I +was in London (till I married, in 1894). + +The East End of London was not a new experience to me. Laura and I +had started a creche at Wapping the year I came out; and in +following up the cases of deserving beggars I had come across a +variety of slums. I have derived as much interest and more benefit +from visiting the poor than the rich and I get on better with +them. What was new to me in Whitechapel was the head of the +factory. + +Mr. Cliffords was what the servants describe as "a man who keeps +himself to himself," gruff, harsh, straight and clever. He hated +all his girls and no one would have supposed, had they seen us +together, that he liked me; but, after I had observed him blocking +the light in the doorway of the room when I was speaking, I knew +that I should get on with him. + +The first day I went into the barn of a place where the boxes were +made, I was greeted by a smell of glue and perspiration and a roar +of wheels on the cobblestones in the yard. Forty or fifty women, +varying in age from sixteen to sixty, were measuring, cutting and +glueing cardboard and paper together; not one of them looked up +from her work as I came in. + +I climbed upon a hoarding, and kneeling down, pinned a photograph +of Laura on a space of the wall. This attracted the attention of +an elderly woman who turned to her companions and said: + +"Come and have a look at this, girls! why, it's to the life!" + +Seeing some of the girls leave their work and remembering my +promise to Cliffords, I jumped up and told them that in ten +minutes' time they would be having their dinners and then I would +like to speak to them, but that until then they must not stop +their work. I was much relieved to see them obey me. Some of them +kept sandwiches in dirty paper bags which they placed on the floor +with their hats, but when the ten minutes were over I was +disappointed to see nearly all of them disappear. I asked where +they had gone to and was told that they either joined the men +packers or went to the public-house round the corner. + +The girls who brought sandwiches and stayed behind liked my visits +and gradually became my friends. One of them--Phoebe Whitman by +name--was beautiful and had more charm than the others for me; I +asked her one day if she would take me with her to the public- +house where she always lunched, as I had brought my food with me +in a bag and did not suppose the public-house people would mind my +eating it there with a glass of beer. This request of mine +distressed the girls who were my friends. They thought it a +terrible idea that I should go among drunkards, but I told them I +had brought a book with me which they could look at and read out +loud to each other while I was away--at which they nodded gravely +--and I went off with my beautiful cockney. + +The "Peggy Bedford" was in the lowest quarter of Whitechapel and +crowded daily with sullen and sad-looking people. It was hot, +smelly and draughty. When we went in I observed that Phoebe was a +favourite; she waved her hand gaily here and there and ordered +herself a glass of bitter. The men who had been hanging about +outside and in different corners of the room joined up to the +counter on her arrival and I heard a lot of chaff going on while +she tossed her pretty head and picked at potted shrimps. The room +was too crowded for any one to notice me; and I sat quietly in a +corner eating my sandwiches and smoking my cigarette. The frosted- +glass double doors swung to and fro and the shrill voices of +children asking for drinks and carrying them away in their mugs +made me feel profoundly unhappy. I followed one little girl +through the doors out into the street and saw her give the mug to +a cabman and run off delighted with his tip. When I returned I was +deafened by a babel of voices; there was a row going on: one of +the men, drunk but good-tempered, was trying to take the flower +out of Phoebe's hat. Provoked by this, a young man began jostling +him, at which all the others pressed forward; the barman shouted +ineffectually to them to stop; they merely cursed him and said +that they were backing Phoebe. A woman, more drunk than the +others, swore at being disturbed and said that Phoebe was a +blasted something that I could not understand. Suddenly I saw her +hitting out like a prize-fighter; and the men formed a ring round +them. I jumped up, seized an under-fed, blear-eyed being who was +nearest to me and flung him out of my way. Rage and disgust +inspired me with great physical strength; but I was prevented from +breaking through the ring by a man seizing my arm and saying: + +"Let be or her man will give you a damned thrashing!" + +Not knowing which of the women he was alluding to, I dipped down +and, dodging the crowd, broke through the ring and flung myself +upon Phoebe; my one fear was that she would be too late for her +work and that the promise I had made to Cliffords would be broken. + +Women fight very awkwardly and I was battered about between the +two. I turned and cursed the men standing round for laughing and +doing nothing and, before I could separate the combatants, I had +given and received heavy blows; but unexpected help came from a +Cliffords packer who happened to look in. We extricated ourselves +as well as we could and ran back to the factory. I made Phoebe +apologise to the chief for being late and, feeling stiff all over, +returned home to Grosvenor Square. + +Cliffords, who was an expert boxer, invited me into his room on my +next visit to tell him the whole story and my shares went up. + +By the end of July all the girls--about fifty-two--stayed with me +after their work and none of them went to the "Peggy Bedford." + +The Whitechapel murders took place close to the factory about that +time, and the girls and I visited what the journalists call "the +scene of the tragedy." It was strange watching crowds of people +collected daily to see nothing but an archway. + +I took my girls for an annual treat to the country every summer, +starting at eight in the morning and getting back to London at +midnight. We drove in three large wagonettes behind four horses, +accompanied by a brass band. On one occasion I was asked if the +day could be spent at Caterham, because there were barracks there. +I thought it a dreary place and strayed away by myself, but Phoebe +and her friends enjoyed glueing their noses to the rails and +watching the soldiers drill. I do not know how the controversy +arose, but when I joined them I heard Phoebe shout through the +railings that some one was a "bloody fish!" I warned her that I +should leave Cliffords for ever, if she went on provoking rows and +using such violent language, and this threat upset her; for a +short time she was on her best behaviour, but I confess I find the +poor just as uninfluenceable and ungrateful as the rich, and I +often wonder what became of Phoebe Whitman. + +At the end of July I told the girls that I had to leave them, as I +was going back to my home in Scotland. + +PHOEBE: "You don't know, lady, how much we all feels for you +having to live in the country. Why, when you pointed out to us on +the picnic-day that kind of a tower-place, with them walls and +dark trees, and said it reminded you of your home, we just looked +at each other! 'Well, I never!' sez I; and we all shuddered!" + +None of the girls knew what my name was or where I lived till they +read about me in the picture-papers, eight years later at the +time of my marriage. + +When I was not in the East-end of London, I wandered about looking +at the shop-windows in the West. One day I was admiring a +photograph of my sister Charty in the window of Macmichael's, when +a footman touched his hat and asked me if I would speak to "her +Grace" in the carriage. I turned round and saw the Duchess of +Manchester [Footnote: Afterwards the late Dutchess of Devonshire]; +as I had never spoken to her in my life, I wondered what she could +possibly want me for. After shaking hands, she said: + +"Jump in, dear child! I can't bear to see you look so sad. Jump in +and I'll take you for a drive and you can come back to tea with +me." + +I got into the carriage and we drove round Hyde Park, after which +I followed her upstairs to her boudoir in Great Stanhope Street. +In the middle of tea Queen Alexandra--then Princess of Wales-- +came in to see the Duchess. She ran in unannounced and kissed her +hostess. + +My heart beat when I looked at her. She had more real beauty, both +of line and expression, and more dignity than any one I had ever +seen; and I can never forget that first meeting. + +These were the days of the great beauties. London worshipped +beauty like the Greeks. Photographs of the Princess of Wales, Mrs. +Langtry, Mrs. Cornwallis West, Mrs. Wheeler and Lady Dudley +[Footnote: Georgiana, Countess of Dudley.] collected crowds in +front of the shop windows. I have seen great and conventional +ladies like old Lady Cadogan and others standing on iron chairs in +the Park to see Mrs. Langtry walk past; and wherever Georgiana +Lady Dudley drove there were crowds round her carriage when it +pulled up, to see this vision of beauty, holding a large holland +umbrella over the head of her lifeless husband. + +Groups of beauties like the Moncrieffes, Grahams, Conynghams, de +Moleynses, Lady Mary Mills, Lady Randolph Churchill, Mrs. Arthur +Sassoon, Lady Dalhousie, Lady March, Lady Londonderry and Lady de +Grey were to be seen in the salons of the 'eighties. There is +nothing at all like this in London to-day and I doubt if there is +any one now with enough beauty or temperament to provoke a fight +in Rotten Row between gentlemen in high society: an incident of my +youth which I was privileged to witness and which caused a +profound sensation. + +Queen Alexandra had a more perfect face than any of those I have +mentioned; it is visible even now, because the oval is still +there, the frownless brows, the carriage and, above all, the grace +both of movement and of gesture which made her the idol of her +people. + +London society is neither better nor worse than it was in the +'eighties; there is less talent and less intellectual ambition and +much less religion; but where all the beauty has gone to I cannot +think! + +When the Princess of Wales walked into the Duchess of Manchester's +boudoir that afternoon, I got up to go away, but the Duchess +presented me to her and they asked me to stay and have tea, which +I was delighted to do. I sat watching her, with my teacup in my +hand, thrilled with admiration. + +Queen Alexandra's total absence of egotism and the warmth of her +manner, prompted not by consideration, but by sincerity, her +gaiety of heart and refinement--rarely to be seen in royal people +--inspired me with a love for her that day from which I have never +departed. + +I had been presented to the Prince of Wales--before I met the +Princess--by Lady Dalhousie, in the Paddock at Ascot. He asked me +if I would back my fancy for the Wokingham Stakes and have a +little bet with him on the race. We walked down to the rails and +watched the horses gallop past. One of them went down in great +form; I verified him by his colours and found he was called +Wokingham. I told the Prince that he was a sure winner; but out of +so many entries no one was more surprised than I was when my horse +came romping in. I was given a gold cigarette-case and went home +much pleased. + +King Edward had great charm and personality and enormous prestige; +he was more touchy than King George and fonder of pleasure. He and +Queen Alexandra, before they succeeded, were the leaders of London +society; they practically dictated what people could and could not +do; every woman wore a new dress when she dined at Marlborough +House; and we vied with each other in trying to please him. + +Opinions differ as to the precise function of royalty, but no one +doubts that it is a valuable and necessary part of our +Constitution. Just as the Lord Mayor represents commerce, the +Prime Minister the Government, and the Commons the people, the +King represents society. Voltaire said we British had shown true +genius in preventing our kings by law from doing anything but +good. This sounds well, but we all know that laws do not prevent +men from doing harm. + +The two kings that I have known have had in a high degree both +physical and moral courage and have shown a sense of duty +unparalleled in the Courts of Europe; it is this that has given +them their stability; and added to this their simplicity of nature +has won for them our lasting love. + +They have been exceptionally fortunate in their private +secretaries: Lord Knollys and Lord Stamfordham are liberal-minded +men of the highest honour and discretion; and I am proud to call +them my friends. + +Before I knew the Prince and Princess of Wales, I did not go to +fashionable balls, but after that Ascot I was asked everywhere. I +was quite unconscious of it at the time, but was told afterwards +that people were beginning to criticise me; one or two incidents +might have enlightened me had I been more aware of myself. + +One night, when I was dining tete-a-tete with my beloved friend, +Godfrey Webb, in his flat in Victoria Street, my father sent the +brougham for me with a message to ask if I would accompany him to +supper at Lord and Lady Randolph Churchill's, where we had been +invited to meet the Prince of Wales. I said I should be delighted +if I could keep on the dress that I was wearing, but as it was +late and I had to get up early next day I did not want to change +my clothes; he said he supposed my dress would be quite smart +enough, so we drove to the Randolph Churchills' house together. + +I had often wanted to know Lord Randolph, but it was only a few +days before the supper that I had had the good fortune to sit next +to him at dinner. When he observed that he had been put next to a +"miss," he placed his left elbow firmly on the table and turned +his back upon me through several courses. I could not but admire +the way he appeared to eat everything with one hand. I do not know +whether it was the lady on his right or what it was that prompted +him, but he ultimately turned round and asked me if I knew any +politicians. I told him that, with the exception of himself, I +knew them all intimately. This surprised him, and after discussing +Lord Rosebery--to whom he was devoted--he said: + +"Do you know Lord Salisbury?" + +I told him that I had forgotten his name in my list, but that I +would like above everything to meet him; at which he remarked that +I was welcome to all his share of him, adding: + +"What do you want to know him for?" + +MARGOT: "Because I think he is amazingly amusing and a very fine +writer." + +LORD RANDOLPH (muttering something I could not catch about +Salisbury lying dead at his feet): "I wish to God that I had NEVER +known him!" + +MARGOT: "I am afraid you resigned more out of temper than +conviction, Lord Randolph." At this he turned completely round +and, gazing at me, said: + +"Confound your cheek! What do you know about me and my +convictions? I hate Salisbury! He jumped at my resignation like a +dog at a bone. The Tories are ungrateful, short-sighted beasts. I +hope you are a Liberal?" + +I informed him that I was and exactly what I thought of the Tory +party; and we talked through the rest of dinner. Towards the end +of our conversation he asked me who I was. I told him that, after +his manners to me in the earlier part of the evening, it was +perhaps better that we should remain strangers. However, after a +little chaff, we made friends and he said that he would come and +see me in Grosvenor Square. + +On the night of the supper-party, I was wearing a white muslin +dress with transparent chemise sleeves, a fichu and a long skirt +with a Nattier blue taffeta sash. I had taken a bunch of rose +carnations out of a glass and pinned them into my fichu with three +diamond ducks given me by Lord Carmichael, our delightful +Peeblesshire friend and neighbour. + +On my arrival at the Churchills', I observed all the fine ladies +wearing ball-dresses off the shoulder and their tiaras. This made +me very conspicuous and I wished profoundly that I had changed +into something smarter before going out. + +The Prince of Wales had not arrived and, as our hostess was giving +orders to the White Hungarian Band, my father and I had to walk +into the room alone. + +I saw several of the ladies eyeing my toilette, and having +painfully sharp ears I heard some of their remarks: + +"Do look at Miss Tennant! She is in her night-gown!" + +"I suppose it is meant to be 'ye olde Englishe pictury!' I wonder +she has not let her hair down like the Juliets at the Oakham +balls!" + +Another, more charitable, said: + +"I daresay no one told her that the Prince of Wales was coming. +... Poor child! What a shame!" + +And finally a man said: + +"There is nothing so odd as the passion some people have for self- +advertisement; it only shows what it is to be intellectual!" + +At that moment our hostess came up to us with a charming accueil. + +The first time I saw Lady Randolph was at Punchestown races, in +1887, where I went with my new friends, Mrs. Bunbury, Hatfield +Harter and Peter Flower. I was standing at the double when I +observed a woman next to me in a Black Watch tartan skirt, braided +coat and astrachan hussar's cap. She had a forehead like a +panther's and great wild eyes that looked through you; she was so +arresting that I followed her about till I found some one who +could tell me who she was. + +Had Lady Randolph Churchill been like her face, she could have +governed the world. + +My father and I were much relieved at her greeting; and while we +were talking the Prince of Wales arrived. The ladies fell into +position, ceased chattering and made subterranean curtsies. He +came straight up to me and told me I was to sit on the other side +of him at supper. I said, hanging my head with becoming modesty +and in a loud voice: + +"Oh no, Sir, I am not dressed at all for the part! I had better +slip away, I had no notion this was going to be such a smart party +... I expect some of the ladies here think I have insulted them by +coming in my night-gown!" + +I saw every one straining to hear what the Prince's answer would +be, but I took good care that we should move out of earshot. At +that moment Lord Hartington [Footnote: The late Duke of +Devonshire.] came up and told me I was to go in to supper with +him. More than ever I wished I had changed my dress, for now every +one was looking at me with even greater curiosity than hostility. + +The supper was gay and I had remarkable talks which laid the +foundation of my friendship both with King Edward and the Duke of +Devonshire. The Prince told me he had had a dull youth, as Queen +Victoria could not get over the Prince Consort's death and kept up +an exaggerated mourning. He said he hoped that when I met his +mother I should not be afraid of her, adding, with a charming +smile, that with the exception of John Brown everybody was. I +assured him with perfect candour that I was afraid of no one. He +was much amused when I told him that before he had arrived that +evening some of the ladies had whispered that I was in my night- +gown and I hope he did not think me lacking in courtesy because I +had not put on a ball-dress. He assured me that on the contrary he +admired my frock very much and thought I looked like an old +picture. This remark made me see uncomfortable visions of the +Oakham ball and he did not dispel them by adding: + +"You are so original! You must dance the cotillion with me." + +I told him that I could not possibly stay, it would bore my father +stiff, as he hated sitting up late; also I was not dressed for +dancing and had no idea there was going to be a ball. When supper +was over, I made my best curtsy and, after presenting my father to +the Prince, went home to bed. + +Lord Hartington told me in the course of our conversation at +supper that Lady Grosvenor [Footnote: The Countess of Grosvenor.] +was by far the most dangerous syren in London and that he would +not answer for any man keeping his head or his heart when with +her, to which I entirely agreed. + +When the London season came to an end we all went up to Glen. + +Here I must retrace my steps. + +In the winter of 1880 I went to stay with my sister, Lucy Graham +Smith, in Wiltshire. + +I was going out hunting for the first time, never having seen a +fox, a hound or a fence in my life; my heart beat as my sisters +superintending my toilette put the last hair-pin into a crinkly +knot of hair; I pulled on my top-boots and, running down to the +front door, found Ribblesdale, who was mounting me, waiting to +drive me to the meet. Hounds met at Christian Malford station. + +Not knowing that with the Duke of Beaufort's hounds every one wore +blue and buff, I was disappointed at the appearance of the field. +No one has ever suggested that a touch of navy blue improves a +landscape; and, although I had never been out hunting before, I +had looked forward to seeing scarlet coats. + +We moved off, jostling each other as thick as sardines, to draw +the nearest cover. My mount was peacocking on the grass when +suddenly we heard a "Halloa!" and the whole field went hammering +like John Gilpin down the hard high road. + +Plunging through a gap, I dashed into the open country. Storm +flung herself up to the stars over the first fence and I found +myself seated on the wettest of wet ground, angry but unhurt; all +the stragglers--more especially the funkers--agreeably diverted +from pursuing the hunt, galloped off to catch my horse. I walked +to a cottage; and nearly an hour afterwards Storm was returned to +me. + +After this contretemps my mount was more amenable and I determined +that nothing should unseat me again. Not being hurt by a fall +gives one a sense of exhilaration and I felt ready to face an arm +of the sea. + +The scattered field were moving aimlessly about, some looking for +their second horses, some eating an early sandwich, some in groups +laughing and smoking and no one knowing anything about the hounds; +I was a little away from the others and wondering--like all +amateurs--why we were wasting so much time, when a fine old +gentleman on a huge horse came up to me and said, with a sweet +smile: + +"Do you always whistle out hunting?" + +MARGOT: "I didn't know I was whistling ... I've never hunted +before." + +STRANGER: "Is this really the first time you've ever been out with +hounds?" + +MARGOT: "Yes, it is." + +STRANGER: "How wonderfully you ride! But I am sorry to see you +have taken a toss." + +MARGOT: "I fell off at the first fence, for though I've ridden all +my life I've never jumped before." + +STRANGER: "Were you frightened when you fell?" + +MARGOT: "No, my horse was ..." + +STRANGER: "Would you like to wear the blue and buff?" + +MARGOT: "It's pretty for women, but I don't think it looks +sporting for men, though I see you wear it; but in any case I +could not get the blue habit." + +STRANGER: "Why not?" + +MARGOT: "Because the old Duke of Beaufort only gives it to women +who own coverts; I am told he hates people who go hard and after +today I mean to ride like the devil." + +STRANGER: "Oh, do you? But is the 'old Duke,' as you call him, so +severe?" + +MARGOT: "I've no idea; I've never seen him or any other duke!" + +STRANGER: "If I told you I could get you the blue habit, what +would you say?" + +MARGOT (with a patronising smile): "I'm afraid I should say you +were running hares!" + +STRANGER: "You would have to wear a top-hat, you know, and you +would not like that! But, if you are going to ride like the devil, +it might save your neck; and in any case it would keep your hair +tidy." + +MARGOT (anxiously pushing back her stray curls): "Why, is my hair +very untidy? It is the first time it has ever been up; and, when I +was 'thrown from my horse,' as the papers call it, all the hair- +pins got loose." + +STRANGER: "It doesn't matter with your hair; it is so pretty I +think I shall call you Miss Fluffy! By the bye, what is your +name?" + +When I told him he was much surprised: + +"Oh, then you are a sister-in-law of the Ancestor's, are you?" + +This was the first time I ever heard Ribblesdale called "the +Ancestor"; and as I did not know what he meant, I said: + +"And who are you?" + +To which he replied: + +"I am the Duke of Beaufort and I am not running hares this time. I +will give you the blue habit, but you know you will have to wear a +top-hat." + +MARGOT: "Good gracious! I hope I've said nothing to offend you? Do +you always do this sort of thing when you meet any one like me for +the first time?" + +DUKE OF BEAUFORT (with a smile, lifting his hat): "Just as it is +the first time you have ever hunted, so it is the first time I +have ever met any one like you." + +On the third day with the Beaufort hounds, my horse fell heavily +in a ditch with me and, getting up, galloped away. I was picked up +by a good-looking man, who took me into his house, gave me tea +and drove me back in his brougham to Easton Grey; I fell +passionately in love with him. He owned a horse called Lardy +Dardy, on which he mounted me. + +Charty and the others chaffed me much about my new friend, saying +that my father would never approve of a Tory and that it was lucky +he was married. + +I replied, much nettled, that I did not want to marry any one and +that, though he was a Tory, he was not at all stupid and would +probably get into the Cabinet. + +This was my first shrewd political prophecy, for he is in the +Cabinet now. + +I cannot look at him without remembering that he was the first man +I was ever in love with, and that, at the age of seventeen, I said +he would be in the Cabinet in spite of his being a Tory. + +For pure unalloyed happiness those days at Easton Grey were +undoubtedly the most perfect of my life. Lucy's sweetness to me, +the beauty of the place, the wild excitement of riding over fences +and the perfect certainty I had that I would ride better than any +one in the whole world gave me an insolent confidence which no +earthquake could have shaken. + +Off and on, I felt qualms over my lack of education; and when I +was falling into a happy sleep, dreaming I was overriding hounds, +echoes of "Pray, Mamma" out of Mrs. Markham, or early punishments +of unfinished poems would play about my bed. + +On one occasion at Easton Grey, unable to sleep for love of life, +I leant out of the window into the dark to see if it was thawing. +It was a beautiful night, warm and wet, and I forgot all about my +education. + +The next day, having no mount, I had procured a hireling from a +neighbouring farmer, but to my misery the horse did not turn up at +the meet; Mr. Golightly, the charming parish priest, said I might +drive about in his low black pony-carriage, called in those days a +Colorado beetle, but hunting on wheels was no role for me and I +did not feel like pursuing the field. + +My heart sank as I saw the company pass me gaily down the road, +preceded by the hounds, trotting with a staccato step and their +noses in the air. + +Just as I was turning to go home, a groom rode past in mufti, +leading a loose horse with a lady's saddle on it. The animal gave +a clumsy lurch; and the man, jerking it violently by the head, +bumped it into my phaeton. I saw my chance. + +MARGOT: "Hullo, man! ... That's my horse! Whose groom are you?" + +MAN (rather frightened at being caught jobbing his lady's horse in +the mouth): "I am Mrs. Chaplin's groom, miss." + +MARGOT: "Jump off; you are the very man I was looking for; tell +me, does Mrs. Chaplin ride this horse over everything?" + +MAN (quite unsuspicious and thawing at my sweetness and +authority): "Bless your soul! Mrs. Chaplin doesn't 'unt this +'orse! It's the Major's! She only 'acked it to the meet." + +MARGOT (apprehensively and her heart sinking): "But can it jump? +... Don't they hunt it?" + +MAN (pulling down my habit skirt): "It's a 'orse that can very +near jump anythink, I should say, but the Major says it shakes +every tooth in 'is gums and she says it's pig-'eaded." + +It did not take me long to mount and in a moment I had left the +man miles behind me. Prepared for the worst, but in high glee, I +began to look about me: not a sign of the hunt! Only odd remnants +of the meet, straggling foot-passengers, terriers straining at a +strap held by drunken runners--some in old Beaufort coats, others +in corduroy--one-horse shays of every description by the sides of +the road and sloppy girls with stick and tammies standing in gaps +of the fences, straining their eyes across the fields to see the +hounds. + +My horse with a loose rein was trotting aimlessly down the road +when, hearing a "Halloa!" I pulled up and saw the hounds streaming +towards me all together, so close that you could have covered them +with a handkerchief. + +What a scent! What a pack! Have I headed the fox? Will they cross +the road? No! They are turning away from me! Now's the moment!! + +I circled the Chaplin horse round with great resolution and +trotted up to a wall at the side of the road; he leapt it like a +stag; we flew over the grass and the next fence; and, after a +little scrambling, I found myself in the same field with hounds. +The horse was as rough as the boy said, but a wonderful hunter; it +could not put a foot wrong; we had a great gallop over the walls, +which only a few of the field saw. + +When hounds checked, I was in despair; all sorts of ladies and +gentlemen came riding towards me and I wondered painfully which of +them would be Mr. and which Mrs. Chaplin. What was I to do? +Suddenly remembering my new friend and patron, I peered about for +the Duke; when I found him and told him of the awkward +circumstances in which I had placed myself, he was so much amused +that he made my peace with the Chaplins, who begged me to go on +riding their horse. They were not less susceptible to dukes than +other people and in any case no one was proof against the old Duke +of Beaufort. At the end of the day I was given the brush--a +fashion completely abandoned in the hunting-field now--and I went +home happy and tired. + + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +MARGOT AT A GIRLS' SCHOOL--WHO SPILT THE INK?--THE ENGINE +DRIVER'S MISTAKEN FLIRTATION--MARGOT LEAVES SCHOOL IN DISGUST-- +DECIDES TO GO TO GERMANY TO STUDY + + +Although I did not do much thinking over my education, others did +it for me. + +I had been well grounded by a series of short-stayed governesses +in the Druids and woad, in Alfred and the cakes, Romulus and Remus +and Bruce and the spider. I could speak French well and German a +little; and I knew a great deal of every kind of literature from +Tristram Shandy and The Antiquary to Under Two Flags and The +Grammarian's Funeral; but the governesses had been failures and, +when Lucy married, my mother decided that Laura and I should go to +school. + +Mademoiselle de Mennecy--a Frenchwoman of ill-temper and a lively +mind--had opened a hyper-refined seminary in Gloucester Crescent, +where she undertook to "finish" twelve young ladies. My father had +a horror of girls' schools (and if he could "get through"--to use +the orthodox expression of the spookists--he would find all his +opinions on this subject more than justified by the manners, +morals and learning of the young ladies of the present day) but as +it was a question of only a few months he waived his objection. + +No. 7 Gloucester Crescent looked down on the Great Western +Railway; the lowing of cows, the bleating of sheep and sudden +shrill whistles and other odd sounds kept me awake, and my bed +rocked and trembled as the vigorous trains passed at uncertain +intervals all through the night. This, combined with sticky food, +was more than Laura could bear and she had no difficulty in +persuading my papa that if she were to stay longer than one week +her health would certainly suffer. I was much upset when she left +me, but faintly consoled by receiving permission to ride in the +Row three times a week; Mlle. de Mennecy thought my beautiful hack +gave prestige to her front door and raised no objections. + +Sitting alone in the horsehair schoolroom, with a French patent- +leather Bible in my hands, surrounded by eleven young ladies, made +my heart sink. "Et le roi David deplut a l' Eternel," I heard in a +broad Scotch accent; and for the first time I looked closely at my +stable companions. + +Mlle. de Mennecy allowed no one to argue with her; and our first +little brush took place after she informed me of this fact. + +"But in that case, mademoiselle," said I, "how are any of us to +learn anything? I don't know how much the others know, but I know +nothing except what I've read; so, unless I ask questions, how am +I to learn?" + +MLLE. DE MENNECY: "Je ne vous ai jamais defendu de me questionner; +vous n'ecoutez pas, mademoiselle. J'ai dit qu'il ne fallait pas +discuter avec moi." + +MARGOT (keenly): "But, mademoiselle, discussion is the only way of +making lessons interesting." + +MLLE. DE MENNECY (with violence): "Voulez-vous vous taire?" + +To talk to a girl of nearly seventeen in this way was so +unintelligent that I made up my mind I would waste neither time +nor affection on her. + +None of the girls were particularly clever, but we all liked each +other and for the first time--and I may safely say the last--I was +looked upon as a kind of heroine. It came about in this way: Mlle. +de Mennecy was never wrong. To quote Miss Fowler's admirable +saying a propos of her father, "She always let us have her own +way." If the bottle of ink was upset, or the back of a book burst, +she never waited to find out who had done it, but in a torrent of +words crashed into the first girl she suspected, her face becoming +a silly mauve and her bust heaving with passion. This made me so +indignant that, one day when the ink was spilt and Mlle. de +Mennecy as usual scolded the wrong girl, I determined I would +stand it no longer. Meeting the victim of Mademoiselle's temper in +the passage, I said to her: + +"But why didn't you say you hadn't done it, ass!" + +GIRL (catching her sob): "What was the good! She never listens; +and I would only have had to tell her who really spilt the ink." + +This did seem a little awkward, so I said to her: + +"That would never have done! Very well, then, I will go and put +the thing right for you, but tell the girls they must back me. +She's a senseless woman and I can't think why you are all so +frightened of her." + +GIRL: "It's all very well for you! Madmozell is a howling snob, +you should have heard her on you before you came! She said your +father would very likely be made a peer and your sister Laura +marry Sir Charles Dilke." (The thought of this overrated man +marrying Laura was almost more than I could bear, but curiosity +kept me silent, and she continued.) "You see, she is far nicer to +you than to us, because she is afraid you may leave her." + +Not having thought of this before, I said: + +"Is that really true? What a horrible woman! Well, I had better go +and square it up; but will you all back me? Now don't go fretting +on and making yourself miserable." + +GIRL: "I don't so much mind what you call her flux-de-bouche +scolding, but, when she flounced out of the room, she said I was +not to go home this Saturday." + +MARGOT: "Oh, that'll be all right. Just you go off." (Exit girl, +drying her eyes.) + +It had never occurred to me that Mlle. de Mennecy was a snob: this +knowledge was a great weapon in my hands and I determined upon my +plan of action. I hunted about in my room till I found one of my +linen overalls, heavily stained with dolly dyes. After putting it +on, I went and knocked at Mlle. de Mennecy's door and opening it +said: + +"Mademoiselle, I'm afraid you'll be very angry, but it was I who +spilt the ink and burst the back of your dictionary. I ought to +have told you at once, I know, but I never thought any girl would +be such an image as to let you scold her without telling you she +had not done it." Seeing a look of suspicion on her sunless face, +I added nonchalantly, "Of course, if you think my conduct sets a +bad example in your school, I can easily go!" + +I observed her eyelids flicker and I said: + +"I think, before you scolded Sarah, you might have heard what she +had to say." + +MLLE. DE MENNECY: "Ce que vous dites me choque profondement; il +m'est difficile de croire que vous avez fait une pareille lachete, +mademoiselle!" + +MARGOT (protesting with indignation): "Hardly lachete, +Mademoiselle! I only knew a few moments ago that you had been so +amazingly unjust. Directly I heard it, I came to you; but as I +said before, I am quite prepared to leave." + +MLLE. DE MENNECY (feeling her way to a change of front): "Sarah +s'est conduite si heroiquement que pour le moment je n'insiste +plus. Je vous felicite, mademoiselle, sur votre franchise; vous +pouvez rejoindre vos camarades." + +The Lord had delivered her into my hands. + +One afternoon, when our instructress had gone to hear Princess +Christian open a bazaar, I was smoking a cigarette on the +schoolroom balcony which overlooked the railway line. + +It was a beautiful evening, and a wave of depression came over me. +Our prettiest pupil, Ethel Brydson, said to me: + +"Time is up! We had better go in and do our preparation. There +would be the devil to pay if you were caught with that cigarette." + +I leant over the balcony blowing smoke into the air in a vain +attempt to make rings, but, failing, kissed my hand to the sky and +with a parting gesture cursed the school and expressed a vivid +desire to go home and leave Gloucester Crescent for ever. + +ETHEL (pulling my dress): "Good gracious, Margot! Stop kissing +your hand! Don't you see that man?" + +I looked down and to my intense amusement saw an engine-driver +leaning over the side of his tender, kissing his hand to me. I +strained over the balcony and kissed both mine back to him, after +which I returned to the school-room. + +Our piano was placed in the window and, the next morning, while +Ethel was arranging her music preparatory to practising, it +appeared my friend the engine-driver began kissing his hand to +her. It was eight o'clock and Mlle. de Mennecy was pinning on her +twists in the window. + +I had finished my toilette and was sitting in the reading-room, +learning the passage chosen by our elocution master for the final +competition in recitation. + +My fingers were in my ears and I was murmuring in dramatic tones: + +"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears, I come to bury +Caesar, not to praise him. ..." + +The girls came in and out, but I never noticed them; and when the +breakfast bell rang, I shoved the book into my desk and ran +downstairs to breakfast. I observed that Ethel's place was empty; +none of the girls looked at me, but munched their bread and sipped +their tepid tea while Mademoiselle made a few frigid general +remarks and, after saying a French grace, left the room. + +"Well," said I, "what's the row?" + +Silence. + +MARGOT (looking from face to face): "Ah! The mot d'ordre is that +you are not to speak to me. Is that the idea?" + +Silence. + +MARGOT (vehemently, with bitterness): "This is exactly what I +thought would happen at a girls' school--that I should find myself +boycotted and betrayed." + +FIRST GIRL (bursting out): "Oh, Margot, it's not that at all! It's +because Ethel won't betray you that we are all to be punished to- +day!" + +MARGOT: "What! Collective punishment? And I am the only one to get +off? How priceless! Well, I must say this is Mlle. de Mennecy's +first act of justice. I've been so often punished for all of you +that I'm sure you won't mind standing me this little outing! Where +is Ethel? Why don't you answer? (Very slowly) Oh, all right! I +have done with you! And I shall leave this very day, so help me +God!" + +On hearing that Mlle. de Mennecy had dismissed Ethel on the spot +because the engine-driver had kissed his hand to her, I went +immediately and told her the whole story; all she answered was +that I was such a liar she did not believe a word I said. + +I assured her that I was painfully truthful by nature, but her +circular and senseless punishments had so frightened the girls +that lying had become the custom of the place and I felt in honour +bound to take my turn in the lies and the punishments. After which +I left the room and the school. + +On my arrival in Grosvenor Square I told my parents that I must go +home to Glen, as I felt suffocated by the pettiness and +conventionality of my late experience. The moderate teaching and +general atmosphere of Gloucester Crescent had depressed me, and +London feels airless when one is out of spirits: in any case it +can never be quite a home to any one born in Scotland. + +The only place I look upon as home which does not belong to me is +Archerfield [Footnote: Archerfield belonged to Mrs. Hamilton +Ogilvie, of Beale.]--a house near North Berwick, in which we +lived for seven years. After Glen and my cottage in Berkshire, +Archerfield is the place I love best in the world. I was both +happier and more miserable there than I have ever been in my life. +Just as William James has written on varieties of religious +experience, so I could write on the varieties of my moral and +domestic experiences at that wonderful place. If ever I were to be +as unhappy again as I was there, I would fly to the shelter of +those Rackham woods, seek isolation on those curving coasts where +the gulls shriek and dive and be ultimately healed by the beauty +of the anchored seas which bear their islands like the Christ +Child on their breasts. + +Unfortunately for me, my father had business which kept him in +London. He was in treaty with Lord Gerard to buy his uninteresting +house in an uninteresting square. The only thing that pleased me +in Grosvenor Square was the iron gate. When I could not find the +key of the square and wanted to sit out with my admirers, after +leaving a ball early, I was in the habit of climbing over these +gates in my tulle dress. This was a feat which was attended by +more than one risk: if you did not give a prominent leap off the +narrow space from the top of the gate, you would very likely be +caught up by the tulle fountain of your dress, in which case you +might easily lose your life; or, if you did not keep your eye on +the time, you would very likely be caught by an early house-maid, +in which case you might easily lose your reputation. No one is a +good judge of her own reputation, but I like to think that those +iron gates were the silent witnesses of my milder manner. + +My father, however, loved Grosvenor Square and, being anxious that +Laura and I should come out together, bought the house in 1881. + +No prodigal was ever given a warmer welcome than I was when I left +the area of the Great Western Railway; but the problem of how to +finish my education remained and I was determined that I would not +make my debut till I was eighteen. What with reading, hunting and +falling in love at Easton Grey, I was not at all happy and wanted +to be alone. + +I knew no girls and had no friends except my sisters and was not +eager to talk to them about my affairs; I never could at any time +put all of myself into discussion which degenerates into gossip. I +had not formed the dangerous habit of writing good letters about +myself, dramatizing the principal part. I shrank then, as I do +now, from exposing the secrets and sensations of life. Reticence +should guard the soul and only those who have compassion should be +admitted to the shrine. When I peer among my dead or survey my +living friends, I see hardly any one with this quality. For the +moment my cousin Nan Tennant, Mrs. Arthur Sassoon, Mrs. James +Rothschild, Antoine Bibesco, and my son and husband are the only +people I can think of who possess it. + +John Morley has, in carved letters of stone upon his chimney- +piece, Bacon's fine words, "The nobler a soul, the more objects of +compassion it hath." + +When I first read them, I wondered where I could meet those souls +and I have wondered ever since. To have compassion you need +courage, you must fight for the objects of your pity and you must +feel and express tenderness towards all men. You will not meet +disinterested emotion, though you may seek it all your life, and +you will seldom find enough pity for the pathos of life. + +My husband is a man of disinterested emotion. One morning, when he +and I were in Paris, where we had gone for a holiday, I found him +sitting with his head in his hands and the newspaper on his knee. +I saw he was deeply moved and, full of apprehension, I put my arm +round him and asked if he had had bad news. He pointed to a +paragraph in the paper and I read how some of the Eton boys had +had to break the bars of their windows to escape from fire and +others had been burnt to death. We knew neither a boy nor the +parent of any boy at Eton at that time, but Henry's eyes were full +of tears, and he could not speak. + +I had the same experience with him over the wreck of the Titanic. +When we read of that challenging, luxurious ship at bay in the +ice-fields and the captain sending his unanswered signals to the +stars, we could not sit through dinner. + +I knew no one of this kind of sympathy in my youth, and my father +was too busy and my mother too detached for me to have told them +anything. I wanted to be alone and I wanted to learn. After +endless talks it was decided that I should go to Germany for four +or five months and thus settle the problem of an unbegun but +finishing education. + +Looking back on this decision, I think it was a remarkable one. I +had a passion for dancing and my father wanted me to go to balls; +I had a genius for horses and adored hunting; I had such a +wonderful hack that every one collected at the Park rails when +they saw me coming into the Row; but all this did not deflect me +from my purpose and I went to Dresden alone with a stupid maid at +a time when--if not in England, certainly in Germany--I might +have passed as a moderate beauty. + + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A DRESDEN LODGING HOUSE--MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE WITH AN OFFICER AFTER +THE OPERA----AN ELDERLY AMERICAN ADMIRER--YELLOW ROSES, GRAF VON-- +VON--AND MOTIFS FROM WAGNER + + +Frau von Mach kept a ginger-coloured lodging-house high up in +Luttichau-strasse. She was a woman of culture and refinement; her +mother had been English and her husband, having gone mad in the +Franco-Prussian war, had left her penniless with three children. +She had to work for her living and she cooked and scrubbed without +a thought for herself from dawn till dark. + +There were thirteen pianos on our floor and two or three permanent +lodgers. The rest of the people came and went--men, women and boys +of every nationality, professionals and amateurs--but I was too +busy to care or notice who went or who came. + +Although my mother was bold and right to let me go as a bachelor +to Dresden, I could not have done it myself. Later on, like every +one else, I sent my stepdaughter and daughter to be educated in +Germany for a short time, but they were chaperoned by a woman of +worth and character, who never left them: my German nursery- +governess, who came to me when Elizabeth was four. + +In parenthesis, I may mention that, in the early terrible days of +the war, our thoughtful Press, wishing to make money out of public +hysteria, had the bright idea of turning this simple, devoted +woman into a spy. There was not a pressman who did not laugh in +his sleeve at this and openly make a stunt of it, but it had its +political uses; and, after the Russians had been seen with snow on +their boots by everyone in England, the gentlemen of the Press +calculated that almost anything would be believed if it could be +repeated often enough. And they were right: the spiteful and the +silly disseminated lies about our governess from door to door with +the kind of venom that belongs in equal proportions to the +credulous, the cowards and the cranks. The greenhorns believed it +and the funkers, who saw a plentiful crop of spies in every bush, +found no difficulty in mobilising their terrors from my governess +--already languishing in the Tower of London--to myself, who +suddenly became a tennis-champion and an habituee of the German +officers' camps! + +The Dresden of my day was different from the Dresden of twenty +years after. I never saw an English person the whole time I was +there. After settling into my new rooms, I wrote out for myself a +severe Stundenplan, which I pinned over my head next to my alarm- +clock. At 6 every morning I woke up and dashed into the kitchen to +have coffee with the solitary slavey; after that I practised the +fiddle or piano till 8.30, when we had the pension breakfast; and +the rest of the day was taken up by literature, drawing and other +lessons. I went to concerts or the opera by myself every night. + +One day Frau von Mach came to me greatly disdressed by a letter +she had received from my mother begging her to take in no men +lodgers while I was in the pension, as some of her friends in +England had told her that I might elope with a foreigner. To this +hour I do not know whether my mother was serious; but I wrote and +told her that Frau von Mach's life depended on her lodgers, that +there was only one permanent lodger--an old American called +Loring, who never spoke to me--and that I had no time to elope. +Many and futile were the efforts to make me return home; but, +though I wrote to England regularly, I never alluded to any of +them, as they appeared childish to me. + +I made great friends with Frau von Mach and in loose moments sat +on her kitchen-table smoking cigarettes and eating black cherries; +we discussed Shakespeare, Wagner, Brahms, Middlemarch, Bach and +Hegel, and the time flew. + +One night I arrived early at the Opera House and was looking about +while the fiddles were tuning up. I wore my pearls and a scarlet +crepe-de-chine dress and a black cloth cape with a hood on it, +which I put on over my head when I walked home in the rain. I was +having a frank stare at the audience, when I observed just +opposite me an officer in a white uniform. As the Saxon soldiers +wore pale blue, I wondered what army he could belong to. + +He was a fine-looking young man, with tailor-made shoulders, a +small waist and silver and black on his sword-belt. When he turned +to the stage, I looked at him through my opera-glasses. On closer +inspection, he was even handsomer than I had thought. A lady +joined him in the box and he took off her cloak, while she stood +up gazing down at the stalls, pulling up her long black gloves. +She wore a row of huge pearls, which fell below her waist, and a +black jet decollete dress. Few people wore low dresses at the +opera and I saw half the audience fixing her with their glasses. +She was evidently famous. Her hair was fox-red and pinned back on +each side of her temples with Spanish combs of gold and pearls; +she surveyed the stalls with cavernous eyes set in a snow-white +face; and in her hand she held a bouquet of lilac orchids. She was +the best-looking woman I saw all the time I was in Germany and I +could not take my eyes off her. The white officer began to look +about the opera-house when my red dress caught his eye. He put up +his glasses, and I instantly put mine down. Although the lights +were lowered for the overture, I saw him looking at me for some +time. + +I had been in the habit of walking about in the entr'actes and, +when the curtain dropped at the end of the first act, I left the +box. It did not take me long to identify the white officer. He was +not accompanied by his lady, but stood leaning against the wall +smoking a cigar and talking to a man; as I passed him I had to +stop for a moment for fear of treading on his outstretched toes. +He pulled himself erect to get out of my way; I looked up and our +eyes met; I don't think I blush easily, but something in his gaze +may have made me blush. I lowered my eyelids and walked on. + +The Meistersinger was my favourite opera and so it appeared to be +of the Dresdeners; Wagner, having quarrelled with the authorities, +refused to allow the Ring to be played in the Dresden Opera House; +and every one was tired of the swans and doves of Lohengrin and +Tannhauser. + +There was a great crowd that night and, as it was raining when we +came out, I hung about, hoping to get a cab; I saw my white +officer with his lady, but he did not see me; I heard him before +he got into the brougham give elaborate orders to the coachman to +put him down at some club. + +After waiting for some time, as no cab turned up, I pulled the +hood of my cloak over my head and started to walk home; when the +crowd scattered I found myself alone and I turned into a little +street which led into Luttichau-strasse. Suddenly I became aware +that I was being followed; I heard the even steps and the click of +spurs of some one walking behind me; I should not have noticed +this had I not halted under a lamp to pull on my hood, which the +wind had blown off. When I stopped, the steps also stopped. I +walked on, wondering if it had been my imagination, and again I +heard the click of spurs coming nearer. The street being deserted, +I was unable to endure it any longer; I turned round and there was +the officer. His black cloak hanging loosely over his shoulders +showed me the white uniform and silver belt. He saluted me and +asked me in a curious Belgian French if he might accompany me +home. I said: + +"Oh, certainly! But I am not at all nervous in the dark." + +OFFICER (stopping under the lamp to light a cigarette): "You like +Wagner? Do you know him well? I confess I find him long and loud." + +MARGOT: "He is a little long, but so wonderful!" + +OFFICER: "Don't you feel tired? (With emphasis) _I_ DO!" + +MARGOT: "No, I'm not at all tired." + +OFFICER: "You would not like to go and have supper with me in a +private room in a hotel, would you?" + +MARGOT: "You are very kind, but I don't like supper; besides, it +is late. (Leaving his side to look at the number on the door) I am +afraid we must part here." + +OFFICER (drawing a long breath): "But you said I might take you +home!!" + +MARGOT (with a slow smile): "I know I did, but this is my home." + +He looked disappointed and surprised, but taking my hand he kissed +it, then stepping back saluted and said: + +"Pardonnez-moi, mademoiselle." + + My second adventure occurred on my way back to England. After a +little correspondence, my mother allowed me to take Frau von Mach +with me to Berlin to hear the Ring der Nibelungen. She and I were +much excited at this little outing, in honour of which I had +ordered her a new black satin dress. German taste is like German +figures, thick and clumsy, and my dear old friend looked like a +hold-all in my gift. + +When we arrived in Berlin I found my room in the hotel full of +every kind of flower; and on one of the bouquets was placed the +card of our permanent lodger, Mr. Loring. I called out to Frau von +Mach, who was unpacking: + +"Do come here, dearest, and look at my wonderful roses! You will +never guess who they come from!" + +FRAU VON MACH (looking rather guilty): "I think I can guess." + +MARGOT: "I see you know! But who would have dreamt that an old +maid like Loring would have thought of such gallantry?" + +FRAU VON MACH: "But surely, dear child, you knew that he admired +you?" + +MARGOT: "Admired me! You must be cracked! I never remember his +saying a civil word to me the whole time I was in Dresden. Poor +mamma! If she were here now she would feel that her letter to you +on the danger of my elopement was amply justified!" + +Frau von Mach and I sat side by side at the opera; and on my left +was a German officer. In front of us there was a lady with +beautiful hair and diamond grasshoppers in it; her two daughters +sat on either side of her. + +Everything was conducted in the dark and it was evident that the +audience was strung up to a high pitch of expectant emotion, for, +when I whispered to Frau von Mach, the officer on my left said, +"Hush!" which I thought extremely rude. Several men in the stalls, +sitting on the nape of their necks, had covered their faces with +pocket-handkerchiefs, which I thought infinitely ridiculous, +bursting as they were with beef and beer. My musical left was only +a little less good-looking than the white officer. He kept a rigid +profile towards me and squashed up into a corner to avoid sharing +an arm of the stall with me. As we had to sit next to each other +for four nights running, I found this a little exaggerated. + +I was angry with myself for dropping my fan and scent-bottle; the +lady picked up the bottle and the officer the fan. The lady gave +me back my bottle and, when the curtain fell, began talking to me. + +She had turned round once or twice during the scene to look at me. +I found her most intelligent; she knew England and had heard +Rubinstein and Joachim play at the Monday Pops. She had been to +the Tower of London, Madame Tussaud's and Lord's. + +The officer kept my fan in his hands and, instead of going out in +the entr'acte, stayed and listened to our conversation. When the +curtain went up and the people returned to their seats, he still +held my fan. In the next interval the lady and the girls went out +and my left-hand neighbour opened conversation with me. He said in +perfect English: + +"Are you really as fond of this music as you appear to be?" + +To which I replied: + +"You imply I am humbugging! I never pretend anything; why should +you think I do? I don't lean back perspiring or cover my face with +a handkerchief as your compatriots are doing, it is true, but..." + +HE (interrupting): "I am very glad of that! Do you think you would +recognise a motif if I wrote one for you?" + +Feeling rather nettled, I said: + +"You must think me a perfect gowk if you suppose I should not +recognise any motif in any opera of Wagner!" + +I said this with a commanding gesture, but I was far from +confident that he would not catch me out. He opened his cigarette- +case, took out a visiting card and wrote the Schlummermotif on the +back before giving it to me. After telling him what the motif was, +I looked at his very long name on the back of the card: Graf von-- +. + +Seeing me do this, he said with a slight twinkle: + +"Won't you write me a motif now?" + +MARGOT: "Alas! I can't write music and to save my life could not +do what you have done; are you a composer?" + +GRAF VON--: "I shan't tell you what I am--especially as I have +given you my name--till you tell me who you are." + +MARGOT: "I'm a young lady at large!" + +At this, Frau von Mach nudged me; I thought she wanted to be +introduced, so I looked at his name and said seriously: + +"Graf von--, this is my friend Frau von Mach." + +He instantly stood up, bent his head and, clicking his heels, said +to her: + +"Will you please introduce me to this young lady?" + +FRAU VON MACH (with a smile): "Certainly. Miss Margot Tennant." + +GRAF VON--: "I hope, mademoiselle, you will forgive me thinking +your interest in Wagner might not be as great as it appeared, but +it enabled me to introduce myself to you." + +MARGOT: "Don't apologise, you have done me a good turn, for I +shall lie back and cover my face with a handkerchief all through +this next act to convince you." + +GRAF VON--: "That would be a heavy punishment for me... and +incidentally for this ugly audience." + +On the last night of the Ring, I took infinite trouble with my +toilette. When we arrived at the theatre neither the lady, her +girls, nor the Graf were there. I found an immense bouquet on my +seat, of yellow roses with thick clusters of violets round the +stalk, the whole thing tied up with wide Parma violet ribbons. It +was a wonderful bouquet. I buried my face in the roses, wondering +why the Graf was so late, fervently hoping that the lady and her +daughters would not turn up: no Englishman would have thought of +giving one flowers in this way, said I to myself. The curtain! How +very tiresome! The doors would all be shut now, as late-comers +were not allowed to disturb the Gotterdammerung. The next day I +was to travel home, which depressed me; my life would be different +in London and all my lessons were over for ever! What could have +happened to the Graf, the lady and her daughters? Before the +curtain rose for the last act, he arrived and, flinging off his +cloak, said breathlessly to me: + +"You can't imagine how furious I am! To-night of all nights we had +a regimental dinner! I asked my colonel to let me slip off early, +or I should not be here now; I had to say good-bye to you. Is it +true then? Are you really off to-morrow?" + +MARGOT (pressing the bouquet to her face, leaning faintly towards +him and looking into his eyes): "Alas, yes! I will send you +something from England so that you mayn't quite forget me. I won't +lean back and cover my head with a handkerchief to-night, but if I +hide my face in these divine roses now and then, you will forgive +me and understand." + +He said nothing but looked a little perplexed. We had not observed +the curtain rise but were rudely reminded of it by a lot of angry +"Hush's" all round us. He clasped his hands together under his +chin, bending his head down on them and taking up both arms of the +stall with his elbows. When I whispered to him, he did not turn +his head at all but just cocked his ear down to me. Was he +pretending to be more interested in Wagner than he really was?" + +I buried my face in my roses, the curtain dropped. It was all +over. + +GRAF VON--(turning to me and looking straight into my eyes): "If +it is true what you said, that you know no one in Berlin, what a +wonderful compliment the lady with the diamond grasshoppers has +paid you!" + +He took my bouquet, smelt the roses and, giving it back to me with +a sigh, said: + +"Good-bye." + + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +MARGOT RIDES A HORSE INTO LONDON HOME AND SMASHES FURNITURE-- +SUITOR IS FORBIDDEN THE HOUSE--ADVISES GIRL FRIEND TO ELOPE; +INTERVIEW WITH GIRL'S FATHER--TETE-A-TETE DINNER IN PARIS WITH +BARON HIRSCH--WINNING TIP FROM FRED ARCHER, THE JOCKEY + + +When I first came out in London we had no friends of fashion to +get me invitations to balls and parties. The Walters, who were my +mother's rich relations, in consequence of a family quarrel were +not on speaking terms with us; and my prospects looked by no means +rosy. + +One day I was lunching with an American to whom I had been +introduced in the hunting-field and found myself sitting next to a +stranger. Hearing that he was Arthur Walter, I thought that it +would be fun to find out his views upon my family and his own. He +did not know who I was, so I determined I would enjoy what looked +like being a long meal. We opened in this manner: + +MARGOT: "I see you hate Gladstone!" + +ARTHUR WALTER: "Not at all. I hate his politics." + +MARGOT: "I didn't suppose you hated the man." + +ARTHUR WALTER: "I am ashamed to say I have never even seen him or +heard him speak, but I entirely agree that for the Duke of +Westminster to have sold the Millais portrait of him merely +because he does not approve of Home Rule shows great pettiness! I +have of course never seen the picture as it was bought privately." + +MARGOT: "The Tennants bought it, so I suppose you could easily see +it." + +ARTHUR WALTER: "I regret to say that I cannot ever see this +picture." + +MARGOT: "Why not?" + +ARTHUR WALTER: "Because though the Tennants are relations of mine, +our family quarrelled." + +MARGOT: "What did they quarrel over?" + +ARTHUR WALTER: "Oh, it's a long story! Perhaps relations quarrel +because they are too much alike." + +MARGOT: "You are not in the least like the Tennants!" + +ARTHUR WALTER: "What makes you say that? Do you know them?" + +MARGOT: "Yes, I do." + +ARTHUR WALTER: "In that case perhaps you could take me to see the +picture." + +MARGOT: "Oh, certainly! ... And I know Mr. Gladstone too!" + +ARTHUR WALTER: "What a fortunate young lady! Perhaps you could +manage to take me to see him also." + +MARGOT: "All right. If you will let me drive you away from lunch +in my phaeton, I will show you the Gladstone picture." + +ARTHUR WALTER: "Are you serious? Do you know them well enough?" + +MARGOT (nodding confidently): "Yes, yes, don't you fret!" + +After lunch I drove him to 40 Grosvenor Square and, when I let +myself in with my latch-key, he guessed who I was, but any +interest he might have felt in this discovery was swamped by what +followed. + +I opened the library door. Mr. Gladstone was sitting talking to my +parents under his own portrait. After the introduction he +conversed with interest and courtesy to my new relation about the +Times newspaper, its founder and its great editor, Delane. + + What I really enjoyed most in London was riding in the Row. I +bought a beautiful hack for myself at Tattersalls, 15.2, bright +bay with black points and so well-balanced that if I had ridden it +with my face to its tail I should hardly have known the +difference. I called it Tatts; it was bold as a lion, vain as a +peacock and extremely moody. One day, when I was mounted to ride +in the Row, my papa kept me waiting so long at the door of 40 +Grosvenor Square that I thought I would ride Tatts into the front +hall and give him a call; it only meant going up one step from the +pavement to the porch and another through the double doors held +open by the footman. Unluckily, after a somewhat cautious approach +by Tatts up the last step into the marble hall, he caught his +reflection in a mirror. At this he instantly stood erect upon his +hind legs, crashing my tall hat into the crystal chandelier. His +four legs all gave way on the polished floor and down we went with +a noise like thunder, the pony on the top of me, the chandelier on +the top of him and my father and the footman helpless spectators. +I was up and on Tatts' head in a moment, but not before he had +kicked a fine old English chest into a jelly. This misadventure +upset my father's temper and my pony's nerve, as well as +preventing me from dancing for several days. + +My second scrape was more serious. I engaged myself to be married. + +If any young "miss" reads this autobiography and wants a little +advice from a very old hand, I will say to her, when a man +threatens to commit suicide after you have refused him, you may be +quite sure that he is a vain, petty fellow or a great goose; if +you felt any doubts about your decision before, you need have none +after this and under no circumstances must you give way. To marry +a man out of pity is folly; and, if you think you are going to +influence the kind of fellow who has "never had a chance, poor +devil," you are profoundly mistaken. One can only influence the +strong characters in life, not the weak; and it is the height of +vanity to suppose that you can make an honest man of any one. My +fiance was neither petty nor a goose, but a humorist; I do not +think he meant me to take him seriously, but in spite of my high +spirits I was very serious, and he was certainly more in love with +me than any one had ever been before. He was a fine rider and gave +me a mount with the Beaufort hounds. + +When I told my mother of my engagement, she sank upon a settee, +put a handkerchief to her eyes, and said: + +"You might as well marry your groom!" + +I struggled very hard to show her how worldly she was. Who wanted +money? Who wanted position? Who wanted brains? Nothing in fact was +wanted, except my will! + +I was much surprised, a few days later, to hear from G., whom I +met riding in the Row, that he had called every day of the week +but been told by the footman that I was out. The under-butler, who +was devoted to me, said sadly, when I complained: + +"I am afraid, miss, your young gentleman has been forbidden the +house." + +Forbidden the house! I rushed to my sister Charty and found her +even more upset than my mother. She pointed out with some truth +that Lucy's marriage and the obstinacy with which she had pursued +it had gone far towards spoiling her early life; but "the squire," +as Graham Smith was called, although a character-part, was a man +of perfect education and charming manners. He had beaten all the +boys at Harrow, won a hundred steeplechases and loved books; +whereas my young man knew little about anything but horses and, +she added, would be no companion to me when I was ill or old. + +I flounced about the room and said that forbidding him the house +was grotesque and made me ridiculous in the eyes of the servants. +I ended a passionate protest by telling her gravely that if I +changed my mind he would undoubtedly commit suicide. This awful +news was received with an hilarity which nettled me. + +CHARTY: "I should have thought you had too much sense of humour +and Mr. G. too much common sense for either of you to believe +this. He must think you very vain. ..." + +I did not know at all what she meant and said with the utmost +gravity: + +"The terrible thing is I believe that I have given him a false +impression of my feelings for him; for, though I love him very +much, I would never have promised to marry him if he had not said +he was going to kill himself." Clasping my two hands together and +greatly moved, I concluded, "If I break it off now and ANYTHING +SHOULD happen, my life is over and I shall feel as if I had +murdered him." + +CHARTY (looking at me with a tender smile): "I should risk it, +darling." + +A propos of vanity, in the interests of my publisher I must here +digress and relate the two greatest compliments that I ever had +paid to me. Although I cannot listen to reading out loud, I have +always been fond of sermons and constantly went to hear Canon +Eyton, a great preacher, who collected large and attentive +congregations in his church in Sloane Street. I nearly always went +alone, as my family preferred listening to Stopford Brooke or +going to our pew in St. George's, Hanover Square. + +One of my earliest recollections is of my mother and father taking +me to hear Liddon preach; I remember nothing at all about it +except that I swallowed a hook and eye during the service: not a +very flattering tribute to the great divine! + +Eyton was a striking preacher and his church was always crowded. I +had to stand a long time before I could ever get a seat. One +morning I received this letter: + +DEAR MISS TENNANT, + +I hope you will excuse this written by a stranger. I have often +observed you listening to the sermon in our church. My wife and I +are going abroad, so we offer you our pew; you appear to admire +Eyton's preaching as much as we do--we shall be very glad if you +can use it. + +Yours truly, + +FRANCIS BUXTON. + +The other compliment was also a letter from a stranger. It was +dirty and misspelt, and enclosed a bill from an undertaker; the +bill came to seven pounds and the letter ran as follows: + +Honoured Miss father passed away quite peaceful last Saturday, he +set store by his funeral and often told us as much sweeping a +crossing had paid him pretty regular, but he left nothing as one +might speak of, and so we was put to it for the funeral, as it +throws back so on a house not to bury your father proper, I +remember you and all he thought of you and told the undertaker to +go ahead with the thing for as you was my fathers friend I hoped +you would understand and excuse me. + +This was from the son of our one-legged crossing-sweeper, and I +need hardly say I owed him a great deal more than seven pounds. He +had taken all our love-letters, presents and messages to and fro +from morning till night for years past and was a man who +thoroughly understood life. + + To return to my fiance, I knew things could not go on as they +were; scenes bored me and I was quite incapable of sustaining a +campaign of white lies; so I reassured my friends and relieved my +relations by telling the young man that I could not marry him. He +gave me his beautiful mare, Molly Bawn, sold all his hunters and +went to Australia. His hair when he returned to England two years +later was grey. I have heard of this happening, but have only +known of it twice in my life, once on this occasion and the other +time when the boiler of the Thunderer burst in her trial trip; the +engine was the first Government order ever given to my father's +firm of Humphreys & Tennant and the accident made a great +sensation. My father told me that several men had been killed and +that young Humphreys' hair had turned white. I remember this +incident very well, as when I gave Papa the telegram in the +billiard room at Glen he covered his face with his hands and sank +on the sofa in tears. + +About this time Sir William Miller, a friend of the family, +suggested to my parents that his eldest son--a charming young +fellow, since dead--should marry me. I doubt if the young man knew +me by sight, but in spite of this we were invited to stay at +Manderston, much to my father's delight. + +On the evening of our arrival my host said to me in his broad +Scottish accent: + +"Margy, will you marry my son Jim?" + +"My dear Sir William," I replied, "your son Jim has never spoken +to me in his life!" + +SIR WILLIAM: "He is shy." + +I assured him that this was not so and that I thought his son +might be allowed to choose for himself, adding: + +"You are like my father, Sir William, and think every one wants to +marry." + +SIR WILLIAM: "So they do, don't they?" (With a sly look.) "I am +sure they all want to marry you." + +MARGOT (mischievously): "I wonder!" + +SIR WILLIAM: "Margy, would you rather marry me or break your leg?" + +MARGOT: Break both, Sir William." + +After this promising beginning I was introduced to the young man. +It was impossible to pay me less attention than he did. + +Sir William had two daughters, one of whom was anxious to marry a +major quartered in Edinburgh, but he was robustly and rudely +against this, in consequence of which the girl was unhappy. She +took me into her confidence one afternoon in their schoolroom. + +It was dark and the door was half open, with a bright light in the +passage; Miss Miller was telling me with simple sincerity exactly +what she felt and what her father felt about the major. I suddenly +observed Sir William listening to our conversation behind the +hinges of the door. Being an enormous man, he had screwed himself +into a cramped posture and I was curious to see how long he would +stick it out. It was indique that I should bring home the +proverbial platitude that "listeners never hear any good of +themselves." + +MISS MILLER: "You see, there is only one real objection to him, he +is not rich!" + +I told her that as she would be rich some day, it did not matter. +Why should the rich marry the rich? It was grotesque! I intended +to marry whatever kind of man I cared for and papa would +certainly find the money. + +MISS MILLER (not listening): "He loves me so! And he says he will +kill himself if I give him up now." + +MARGOT (with vigour): "Oh, if he is THAT sort of man, a really +brave fellow, there is only one thing for you both to do!" + +MISS MILLER (leaning forward with hands clasped and looking at me +earnestly): "Oh, tell me, tell me!" + +MARGOT: "Are you sure he is a man of dash? Is he really unworldly +and devoted? Not afraid of what people say?" + +MISS MILLER (eagerly): "No, no! Yes, yes! He would die for me, +indeed he would, and is afraid of no one!" + +MARGOT (luring her on): "I expect he is very much afraid of your +father." + +MISS MILLER (hesitating): "Papa is so rude to him." + +MARGOT (with scorn): "Well, if your major is afraid of your +father, I think nothing of him!" (Slight movement behind the +door.) + +MISS MILLER (impulsively): "He is afraid of no one! But Papa never +talks to him." + +MARGOT (very deliberately): "Well, there is only one thing for you +to do; and that is to run away!" (Sensation behind the door.) + +MISS MILLER (with determination, her eyes sparkling): "If he will +do it, I WILL! But oh, dear! ...What will people say? How they +will talk!" + +MARGOT (lightly): "Oh, of course, if you care for what people say, +you will be done all through life!" + +MISS MILLER: "Papa would be furious, you know, and would curse +fearfully!" + +To this I answered: + +"I know your father well and I don't believe he would care a +damn!" + +I got up suddenly, as if going to the door, at which there was a +sound of a scuffle in the corridor. + +MISS MILLER (alarmed and getting up): "What was that noise? Can +any one have been in the passage? Could they have heard us? Let us +shut the door." + +MARGOT: "No, don't shut the door, it's so hot and we shan't be +able to talk alone again." + +Miss MILLER (relieved and sitting down): "You are very good. ... I +must think carefully over what you have said." + +MARGOT: "Anyhow, tell your major that _I_ know your father; he is +really fond of me." + +MISS MILLER: "Oh, yes, I heard him ask your father if he would +exchange you for us." + +MARGOT: "That's only his chaff; he is devoted to you. But what he +likes about me is my dash: nothing your papa admires so much as +courage. If the major has pluck enough to carry you off to +Edinburgh, marry you in a registrar's office and come back and +tell your family the same day, he will forgive everything, give +you a glorious allowance and you'll be happy ever after! ... Now, +my dear, I must go." + +I got up very slowly, and, putting my hands on her shoulders, +said: + +"Pull up your socks, Amy!" + +I need hardly say the passage was deserted when I opened the door. +I went downstairs, took up the Scotsman and found Sir William +writing in the hall. He was grumpy and restless and at last, +putting down his pen, he came up to me and said, in his broad +Scotch accent: + +"Margy, will you go round the garden with me?" + +"MARGY": "Yes, if we can sit down alone and have a good talk." + +SIR WILLIAM (delighted): "What about the summerhouse?" + +"MARGY": "All right, I'll run up and put on my hat and meet you +here." + +When we got to the summer-house he said: + +"Margy, my daughter Amy's in love with a pauper." + +"MARGY": "What does that matter?" + +SIR WILLIAM: "He's not at all clever." + +"MARGY": "How do you know?" + +SIR WILLIAM: "What do you mean?" + +"MARGY": "None of us are good judges of the people we dislike." + +SIR WILLIAM (cautiously): "I would much like your advice on all +this affair and I want you to have a word with my girl Amy and +tell her just what you think on the matter." + +"MARGY": "I have." + +SIR WILLIAM: "What did she say to you?" + +"MARGY": "Really, Sir William, would you have me betray +confidences?" + +SIR WILLIAM: "Surely you can tell me what YOU said, anyway, +without betraying her." + +"MARGY" (looking at him steadily): "Well, what do you suppose you +would say in the circumstances? If a well-brought-up girl told you +that she was in love with a man that her parents disliked, a man +who was unable to keep her and with no prospects..." + +SIR WILLIAM (interrupting): "Never mind what I should say! What +did YOU say?" + +"MARGY" (evasively): "The thing is unthinkable! Good girls like +yours could never go against their parents' wishes! Men who can't +keep their wives should not marry at all. ..." + +SIR WILLIAM (with great violence, seizing my hands): "WHAT DID YOU +SAY?" + +"MARGY" (with a sweet smile): "I'm afraid, Sir William, you are +changing your mind and, instead of leaning on my advice, you begin +to suspect it." + +SIR WILLIAM (very loud and beside himself with rage): "WHAT DID +YOU SAY?" + +"MARGY" (coolly, putting her hand on his): "I can't think why you +are so excited! If I told you that I had said, 'Give it all up, my +dear, and don't vex your aged father,' what would you say?" + +SIR WILLIAM (getting up and flinging my hand away from him): +"Hoots! You're a liar!" + +"MARGY": "No, I'm not, Sir William; but, when I see people +listening at doors, I give them a run for their money." + +I had another vicarious proposal. One night, dining with the +Bischoffheims, I was introduced for the first time to Baron +Hirsch, an Austrian who lived in Paris. He took me in to dinner +and a young man whom I had met out hunting sat on the other side +of me. + +I was listening impressively to the latter, holding my champagne +in my hand, when the footman in serving one of the dishes bumped +my glass against my chest and all its contents went down the front +of my ball-dress. I felt iced to the bone; but, as I was thin, I +prayed profoundly that my pink bodice would escape being marked. I +continued in the same position, holding my empty glass in my hand +as if nothing had happened, hoping that no one had observed me and +trying to appear interested in the young man's description of the +awful dangers he had run when finding himself alone with hounds. + +A few minutes later Baron Hirsch turned to me and said: + +"Aren't you very cold?" + +I said that I was, but that it did not matter; what I really +minded was spoiling my dress and, as I was not a kangaroo, I +feared the worst. After this we entered into conversation and he +told me among other things that, when he had been pilled for a +sporting club in Paris, he had revenged himself by buying the club +and the site upon which it was built, to which I observed: + +"You must be very rich." + +He asked me where I had lived and seemed surprised that I had +never heard of him. + +The next time we met each other was in Paris. I lunched with him +and his wife and he gave me his opera box and mounted me in the +Bois de Boulogne. + +One day he invited me to dine with him tete-a-tete at the Cafe +Anglais and, as my father and mother were out, I accepted. I felt +a certain curiosity about this invitation, because my host in his +letter had given me the choice of several other dates in the event +of my being engaged that night. When I arrived at the Cafe Anglais +Baron Hirsch took off my cloak and conducted me into a private +room. He reminded me of our first meeting, said that he had been +much struck by my self-control over the iced champagne and went on +to ask if I knew why he had invited me to dine with him. I said: + +"I have not the slightest idea!" + +BARON HIRSCH: "Because I want you to marry my son, Lucien. He is +quite unlike me, he is very respectable and hates money; he likes +books and collects manuscripts and other things, and is highly +educated." + +MARGOT: "Your son is the man with the beard, who wears glasses and +collects coins, isn't he?" + +BARON HIRSCH (thinking my description rather dreary): "Quite so! +You talked to him the other day at our house. But he has a +charming disposition and has been a good son; and I am quite sure +that, if you would take a little trouble, he would be devoted to +you and make you an excellent husband: he does not like society, +or racing, or any of the things that I care for." + +MARGOT: "Poor man! I don't suppose he would even care much for me! +I hate coins!" + +BARON HIRSCH: "Oh, but you would widen his interests! He is shy +and I want him to make a good marriage; and above all he must +marry an Englishwoman." + +MARGOT: "Has he ever been in love?" + +BARON HIRSCH: "No, he has never been in love; but a lot of women +make up to him and I don't want him to be married for his money by +some designing girl." + +MARGOT: "Over here I suppose that sort of thing might happen; I +don't believe it would in England." + +BARON HIRSCH: "How can you say such a thing to me? London society +cares more for money than any other in the world, as I know to my +cost! You may take it from me that a young man who will be as rich +as Lucien can marry almost any girl he likes." + +MARGOT: "I doubt it! English girls don't marry for money!" + +BARON HIRSCH: "Nonsense, my dear! They are like other people; it +is only the young that can afford to despise money!" + +MARGOT: "Then I hope that I shall be young for a very long time." + +BARON HIRSCH (smiling): "I don't think you will ever be +disappointed in that hope; but surely you wouldn't like to be a +poor man's wife and live in the suburbs? Just think what it would +be if you could not hunt or ride in the Row in a beautiful habit +or have wonderful dresses from Worth! You would hate to be dowdy +and obscure!" + +"That," I answered energetically, "could never happen to me." + +BARON HIRSCH: "Why not?" + +MARGOT: "Because I have too many friends." + +BARON HIRSCH: "And enemies?" + +MARGOT (thoughtfully): "Perhaps. ...I don't know about that. I +never notice whether people dislike me or not. After all, you took +a fancy to me the first time we met; why should not other people +do the same? Do you think I should not improve on acquaintance?" + +BARON HIRSCH: "How can you doubt that, when I have just asked you +to marry my son?" + +MARGOT: "What other English girl is there that you would like for +a daughter-in-law?" + +BARON HIRSCH: "Lady Katie Lambton,[Footnote: The present Duchess +of Leeds.] Durham's sister." + +MARGOT: "I don't know her at all. Is she like me?" + +BARON HIRSCH: "Not in the least; but you and she are the only +girls I have met that I could wish my son to marry." + +I longed to know what my rival was like, but all he could tell me +was that she was lovely and clever and mignonne, to which I said: + +"But she sounds exactly like me!" + +This made him laugh: + +"I don't believe you know in the least what you are like," he +said. + +MARGOT: "You mean I have no idea how plain I am? But what an odd +man you are! If I don't know what I'm like, I am sure you can't! +How do you know that I am not just the sort of adventuress you +dread most? I might marry your son and, so far from widening his +interests, as you suggest, keep him busy with his coins while I +went about everywhere, enjoying myself and spending all your +money. In spite of what you say, some man might fall in love with +me, you know! Some delightful, clever man. And then Lucien's +happiness would be over." + +BARON HIRSCH: "I do not believe you would ever cheat your +husband." + +MARGOT: "You never can tell! Would Lady Katie Lambton many for +money?" + +BARON HIRSCH: "To be perfectly honest with you, I don't think she +would." + +MARGOT: "There you are! I know heaps of girls who wouldn't; +anyhow, _I_ never would!" + +BARON HIRSCH: "You are in love with some one else, perhaps, are +you?" + +It so happened that in the winter I had fallen in love with a man +out hunting and was counting the hours till I could meet him +again, so the question annoyed me; I thought it vulgar and said, +with some dignity: + +"If I am, I have never told him so." + +My dignity was lost, however, on my host, who persisted. I did not +want to give myself away, so, simulating a tone of light banter, I +said: + +"If I have not confided in the person most interested, why should +I tell YOU?" This was not one of my happiest efforts, for he +instantly replied: + +"Then he IS interested in you, is he? Do I know him?" + +I felt angry and told him that, because I did not want to marry +his son, it did not at all follow that my affections were engaged +elsewhere; and I added: + +"I only hope that Mr. Lucien is not as curious as you are, or I +should have a very poor time; there is nothing I should hate as +much as a jealous husband." + +BARON HIRSCH: "I don't believe you! If it's tiresome to have a +jealous husband, it must be humiliating to have one who is not." + +I saw he was trying to conciliate me, so I changed the subject to +racing. Being a shrewd man, he thought he might find out whom I +was in love with and encouraged me to go on. I told him I knew +Fred Archer well, as we had hunted together in the Vale of White +Horse. He asked me if he had ever given me a racing tip. I told +him the following story: + +One day, at Ascot, some of my impecunious Melton friends,--having +heard a rumour that Archer, who was riding in the race, had made a +bet on the result--came and begged me to find out from him what +horse was going to win. I did not listen much to them at first, as +I was staring about at the horses, the parasols and the people, +but my friends were very much in earnest and began pressing me in +lowered voices to be as quick as I could, as they thought that +Archer was on the move. It was a grilling day; most men had +handkerchiefs or cabbages under their hats; and the dried-up grass +in the Paddock was the colour of pea-soup. I saw Fred Archer +standing in his cap and jacket with his head hanging down, talking +to a well-groomed, under-sized little man, while the favourite--a +great, slashing, lazy horse--was walking round and round with the +evenness of a metronome. I went boldly up to him and reminded him +of how we had cannoned at a fence in the V.W.H. Fred Archer had a +face of carved ivory, like the top of an umbrella; he could turn +it into a mask or illuminate it with a smile; he had long thin +legs, a perfect figure and wonderful charm. He kept a secretary, a +revolver and two valets and was a god among the gentry and the +jockeys. After giving a slight wink at the under-sized man, he +turned away from him to me and, on hearing what I had to say, +whispered a magic name in my ear. ... + +I was a popular woman that night in Melton. + +Baron Hirsch returned to the charge later on; and I told him +definitely that I was the last girl in the world to suit his son. + +It is only fair to the memory of Lucien Hirsch to say that he +never cared the least about me. He died a short time after this +and some one said to the Baron: + +"What a fool Margot Tennant was not to have married your son! She +would be a rich widow now." + +At which he said: + +"No one would die if they married Margot Tennant." + + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +PHOENIX PARK MURDERS--REMEDIES FOR IRELAND--TELEPATHY AND +PLANCHETTE--VISIT TO BLAVATSKY--SIR CHARLES DILKE'S KISS--VISITS +TO GLADSTONE--THE LATE LORD SALISBURY'S POLITICAL PROPHECIES + + +The political event that caused the greatest sensation when I was +a girl was the murder of Mr. Burke and Lord Frederick Cavendish on +May 6, 1882. We were in London at the time; and the news came +through on a Sunday. Alfred Lyttelton told me that Lady Frederick +Cavendish's butler had broken it to her by rushing into the room +saying: + +"They have knifed his lordship!" + +The news spread from West to East and North to South; groups of +people stood talking in the middle of the streets without their +hats and every one felt that this terrible outrage was bound to +have consequences far beyond the punishment of the criminals. + +These murders in the Phoenix Park tended to confirm Gladstone in +his belief that the Irish were people whom we did not understand +and that they had better be encouraged to govern themselves. He +hoped to convert his colleagues to a like conviction, but Mr. +Chamberlain and he disagreed. + +Just as I ask myself what would have been the outcome of the Paris +Conference if the British had made the League of Nations a genuine +first plank in their programme instead of a last postscript, so I +wonder what would have happened if Chamberlain had stuck to +Gladstone at that time. Gladstone had all the playing cards--as +President Wilson had--and was not likely to under-declare his +hand, but he was a much older man and I cannot but think that if +they had remained together Chamberlain would not have been thrown +into the arms of the Tories and the reversion of the Premiership +must have gone to him. It seems strange to me that the leaders of +the great Conservative party have so often been hired bravos or +wandering minstrels with whom it can share no common conviction. I +never cease wondering why it cannot produce a man of its own +faith. There must be something inherent in its creed that produces +sterility. + +When Mr. Gladstone went in for Home Rule, society was rent from +top to bottom and even the most devoted friends quarrelled over +it. Our family was as much divided as any other. + +One day, when Lord Spencer was staying at Glen, I was sent out of +the room at dinner for saying that Gladstone had made a Balaclava +blunder with his stupid Home Rule; we had all got so heated over +the discussion that I was glad enough to obey my papa. A few +minutes later he came out full of penitence to see if he had hurt +my feelings; he found me sitting on the billiard-table smoking one +of his best cigars. I gave him a good hug, and told him I would +join him when I had finished smoking; he said he was only too glad +that his cigars were appreciated and returned to the dining-room +in high spirits. + +Events have proved that I was quite wrong about Home Rule. Now +that we have discovered what the consequences are of withholding +from Ireland the self-government which for generations she has +asked for, can we doubt that Gladstone should have been vigorously +backed in his attempt to still the controversy? As it is, our +follies in Ireland have cursed the political life of this country +for years. Some one has said, "L'Irlande est une maladie incurable +mais jamais mortelle"; and, if she can survive the present regime, +no one will doubt the truth of the saying. + +In May, June and July, 1914, within three months of the war, every +donkey in London was cutting, or trying to cut us, for wishing to +settle this very same Irish question. My presence at a hall with +Elizabeth--who was seventeen--was considered not only provocative +to others but a danger to myself. All the brains of all the +landlords in Ireland, backed by half the brains of half the +landlords in England, had ranged themselves behind Sir Edward +Carson, his army and his Covenant. Earnest Irish patriots had +turned their fields into camps and their houses into hospitals; +aristocratic females had been making bandages for months, when von +Kuhlmann, Secretary of the German Embassy in London, went over to +pay his first visit to Ireland. On his return he told me with +conviction that, from all he had heard and seen out there during a +long tour, nothing but a miracle could avert civil war, to which I +replied: + +"Shocking as that would be, it would not break England." + +Our follies in Ireland have cursed not only the political but the +social life of this country. + +It was not until the political ostracisms over Home Rule began all +over again in 1914 that I realised how powerful socially my +friends and I were in the 'eighties. + +Mr. Balfour once told me that, before our particular group of +friends--generally known as the Souls--appeared in London, +prominent politicians of opposite parties seldom if ever met one +another; and he added: + +"No history of our time will be complete unless the influence of +the Souls upon society is dispassionately and accurately +recorded." + +The same question of Home Rule that threw London back to the old +parochialisms in 1914 was at its height in 1886 and 1887; but at +our house in Grosvenor Square and later in those of the Souls, +everyone met--Randolph Churchill, Gladstone, Asquith, Morley, +Chamberlain, Balfour, Rosebery, Salisbury, Hartington, Harcourt +and, I might add, jockeys, actors, the Prince of Wales and every +ambassador in London. We never cut anybody--not even our friends +--or thought it amusing or distinguished to make people feel +uncomfortable; and our decision not to sacrifice private +friendship to public politics was envied in every capital in +Europe. It made London the centre of the most interesting society +in the world and gave men of different tempers and opposite +beliefs an opportunity of discussing them without heat and without +reporters. There is no individual or group among us powerful +enough to succeed in having a salon of this kind to-day. + +The daring of that change in society cannot be over-estimated. The +unconscious and accidental grouping of brilliant, sincere and +loyal friends like ourselves gave rise to so much jealousy and +discussion that I shall devote a chapter of this book to the +Souls. + +It was at No. 40 Grosvenor Square that Gladstone met Lord Randolph +Churchill. The latter had made himself famous by attacking and +abusing the Grand Old Man with such virulence that every one +thought it impossible that they could ever meet in intimacy again. +I was not awed by this, but asked them to a luncheon party; and +they both accepted. I need hardly say that when they met they +talked with fluency and interest, for it was as impossible for +Gladstone to be gauche or rude as it was for any one to be ill at +ease with Randolph Churchill. The news of their lunching with us +spread all over London; and the West-end buzzed round me with +questions: all the political ladies, including the Duchess of +Manchester, were torn with curiosity to know whether Randolph was +going to join the Liberal Party. I refused to gratify their +curiosity, but managed to convey a general impression that at any +moment our ranks, having lost Mr. Chamberlain, were going to be +reinforced by Lord Randolph Churchill. + +The Duchess of Manchester (who became the late Duchess of +Devonshire) was the last great political lady in London society as +I have known it. The secret of her power lay not only in her +position--many people are rich and grand, gay and clever and live +in big houses--but in her elasticity, her careful criticisms, her +sense of justice and discretion. She not only kept her own but +other people's secrets; and she added to a considerable effrontery +and intrepid courage, real kindness of heart. I have heard her +reprove and mildly ridicule all her guests, both at Compton Place +and at Chatsworth, from the Prince of Wales to the Prime Minister. +I asked her once what she thought of a certain famous lady, whose +arrogance and vulgarity had annoyed us all, to which she answered: + +"I dislike her too much to be a good judge of her." + +One evening, many years after the time of which I am writing, she +was dining with us, and we were talking tete-a-tete. + +"Margot," she said, "you and I are very much alike." + +It was impossible to imagine two more different beings than myself +and the Duchess of Devonshire--morally, physically or +intellectually--so I asked her what possible reason she had for +thinking so, to which she answered: + +"We have both married angels; when Hartington dies he will go +straight to Heaven"--pointing her first finger high above her +head--"and when Mr. Asquith dies he will go straight there, too; +not so Lord Salisbury," pointing her finger with a diving movement +to the floor. + +You met every one at her house, but she told me that before 1886- +1887 political opponents hardly ever saw one another and society was +much duller. + +One day in 1901 my husband and I were staying at Chatsworth. There +was a huge house-party, including Arthur Balfour and Chamberlain. +Before going down to dinner, Henry came into my bedroom and told +me he had had a telegram to say that Queen Victoria was very ill +and he feared the worst; he added that it was a profound secret +and that I was to tell no one. After dinner I was asked by the +Duchess' granddaughters--Lady Aldra and Lady Mary Acheson--to join +them at planchette, so, to please them, I put my hand upon the +board. I was listening to what the Duchess was saying, and my mind +was a blank. After the girls and I had scratched about for a +little time, one of them took the paper off the board and read out +loud: + +"The Queen is dying." She added, "What Queen can that be?" + +We gathered round her and all looked at the writing; and there I +read distinctly out of a lot of hieroglyphics: + +"The Queen is dying." + +If the three of us had combined to try to write this and had poked +about all night, we could not have done it. + +I have had many interesting personal experiences of untraceable +communication and telepathy and I think that people who set +themselves against all this side of life are excessively stupid; +but I do not connect them with religion any more than with Marconi +and I shall always look upon it as a misfortune that people can be +found sufficiently material to be consoled by the rubbish they +listen to in the dark at expensive seances. + +At one time, under the influence of Mr. Percy Wyndham, Frederic +Myers and Edmund Gurney (the last-named a dear friend with whom I +corresponded for some months before he committed suicide), Laura +and I went through a period of "spooks." There was no more +delightful companion than Mr. Percy Wyndham; he adored us and, +though himself a firm believer in the spirit world, he did not +resent it if others disagreed with him. We attended every kind of +seance and took the matter up quite seriously. + +Then, as now, everything was conducted in the dark. The famous +medium of that day was a Russian Jewess, Madame Blavatsky by name. +We were asked to meet her at tea, in the dining-room of a private +house in Brook Street, a non-professional affair, merely a little +gathering to hear her views upon God. On our arrival I had a good +look at her heavy, white face, as deeply pitted with smallpox as a +solitaire board, and I wondered if she hailed from Moscow or +Margate. She was tightly surrounded by strenuous and palpitating +ladies and all the blinds were up. Seeing no vacant seat near her, +I sat down upon a low, stuffed chair in the window. After making a +substantial tea, she was seen to give a sobbing and convulsive +shudder, which caused the greatest excitement; the company closed +up round her in a circle of sympathy and concern. When pressed to +say why her bust had heaved and eyelids flickered, she replied: + +"A murderer has passed below our windows." The awe-struck ladies +questioned her reverently but ardently as to how she knew and what +she felt. Had she visualised him? Would she recognise the guilty +one if she saw him and, after recognising him, feel it on her +conscience if she did not give him up to the law? One lady +proposed that we should all go round to the nearest police-station +and added that a case of this kind, if proved, would do more to +dispell doubts on spirits than all the successful raps, taps, +turns and tables. Being the only person in the window at the time, +I strained my eyes up and down Brook Street to see the murderer, +but there was not a creature in sight. + +Madame Blavatsky turned out to be an audacious swindler. + +To return to Chatsworth: our host, the Duke of Devonshire, was a +man whose like we shall never see again; he stood by himself and +could have come from no country in the world but England. He had +the figure and appearance of an artisan, with the brevity of a +peasant, the courtesy of a king and the noisy sense of humour of a +Falstaff. He gave a great, wheezy guffaw at all the right things, +and was possessed of endless wisdom. He was perfectly disengaged +from himself, fearlessly truthful and without pettiness of any +kind. + +Bryan, the American politician, who came over here and heard all +our big guns speak--Rosebery, Chamberlain, Asquith, etc.--when +asked what he thought, said that a Chamberlain was not unknown to +them in America, and that they could produce a Rosebery or an +Asquith, but that a Hartington no man could find. His speaking was +the finest example of pile-driving the world had ever seen. + +After the Prince and Princess of Wales, the Duke and his wife were +the great social, semi-political figures of my youth. One day +they came to pay us a visit in Cavendish Square, having heard that +our top storey had been destroyed by fire. They walked round the +scorched walls of the drawing-room, with the blue sky overhead, +and stopped in front of a picture of a race-horse, given to me on +my wedding day by my habit-maker, Alexander Scott (a Scotchman who +at my suggestion had made the first patent safety riding-skirt). +The Duke said: + +"I am sorry that your Zoffany and Longhi were burnt, but I myself +would far rather have the Herring." [Footnote: A portrait by J. F. +Herring, sen., of Rockingham, winner of the St. Leger Stakes, +1833, ridden by Sam Darling.] + +The Duchess laughed at this and asked me if my baby had suffered +from shock, adding: + +"I should be sorry if my little friend, Elizabeth, has had a +fright." + +I told her that luckily she was out of London at the time of the +fire. When the Duchess got back to Devonshire House, she sent +Elizabeth two tall red wax candles, with a note in which she said: + +"When you brought your little girl here, she wanted the big red +candles in my boudoir and I gave them to her; they must have +melted in the fire, so I send her these new ones." + +I was walking alone on the high road at Chatsworth one afternoon +in winter, while the Duchess was indoors playing cards, when I saw +the family barouche, a vast vehicle which swung and swayed on C- +springs, stuck in the middle of a ploughed field, the horses +plunging about in unsuccessful efforts to drag the wheels out of +the mud. The coachman was accompanied by a page, under life size. +Observing their dilemma, I said: + +"Hullo, you're in a nice fix! What induced you to go into that +field?" + +The coachman, who knew me well, explained that they had met a +hearse in the narrow part of the road and, as her Grace's orders +were that no carriage was to pass a funeral if it could be +avoided, he had turned into the field, where the mud was so deep +and heavy that they were stuck. It took me some time to get +assistance; but, after I had unfastened the bearing-reins and +mobilised the yokels, the coachman, carriage and I returned safely +to the house. + +Death was the only thing of which I ever saw the Duchess afraid +and, when I referred to the carriage incident and chaffed her +about it, she said: + +"My dear child, do you mean to tell me you would not mind dying? +What do you feel about it?" + +I answered her, in all sincerity, that I would mind more than +anything in the world, but not because I was afraid, and that +hearses did not affect me in the least. + +She asked me what I was most interested in after hunting and I +said politics. I told her I had always prophesied I would marry a +Prime Minister and live in high political circles. This amused her +and we had many discussions about politics and people. She was +interested in my youth and upbringing and made me tell her about +it. + +As I have said before, we were not popular in Peeblesshire. My +papa and his vital family disturbed the country conventions; and +all Liberals were looked upon as aliens by the Scottish +aristocracy of those days. At election times the mill-hands of +both sexes were locked up for fear of rows, but in spite of this +the locks were broken and the rows were perpetual. When my father +turned out the sitting Tory, Sir Graham Montgomery, in 1880, there +were high jinks in Peebles. I pinned the Liberal colours, with the +deftness of a pick-pocket, to the coat-tails of several of the +unsuspecting Tory landlords, who had come from great distances to +vote. This delighted the electors, most of whom were feather- +stitching up and down the High Street, more familiar with drink +than jokes. + +The first politicians of note that came to stay with us when I was +a girl were Chamberlain and Sir Charles Dilke. Just as, later on, +my friends (the Souls) discussed which would go farthest, George +Curzon, George Wyndham or Harry Cust, so in those days people were +asking the same question about Chamberlain and Dilke. To my mind +it wanted no witch to predict that Chamberlain would beat not only +Dilke but other men; and Gladstone made a profound mistake in not +making him a Secretary of State in his Government of 1885. + +Mr. Chamberlain never deceived himself, which is more than could +be said of some of the famous politicians of that day. He also +possessed a rare measure of intellectual control. Self-mastery was +his idiosyncrasy; it was particularly noticeable in his speaking; +he encouraged in himself such scrupulous economy of gesture, +movement and colour that, after hearing him many times, I came to +the definite conclusion that Chamberlain's opponents were snowed +under by his accumulated moderation. Whatever Dilke's native +impulses were, no one could say that he controlled them. Besides a +defective sense of humour, he was fundamentally commonplace and +had no key to his mind, which makes every one ultimately dull. My +father, being an ardent Radical, with a passion for any one that +Gladstone patronised, had made elaborate preparations for Dilke's +reception; when he arrived at Glen he was given a warm welcome; +and we all sat down to tea. After hearing him talk uninterruptedly +for hours and watching his stuffy face and slow, protruding eyes, +I said to Laura: + +"He may be a very clever man, but he has not a ray of humour and +hardly any sensibility. If he were a horse, I would certainly not +buy him!" + +With which she entirely agreed. + +On the second night of his visit, our distinguished guest met +Laura in the passage on her way to bed; he said to her: + +"If you will kiss me, I will give you a signed photograph of +myself." + +To which she answered: + +"It is awfully good of you, Sir Charles, but I would rather not, +for what on earth should I do with the photograph?" + +Mr. Gladstone was the dominating politician of the day, and +excited more adoration and hatred than any one. + +After my first visit to Hawarden, he sent me the following poem, +which he had written the night before I left: + +MARGOT + + When Parliament ceases and comes the recess, + And we seek in the country rest after distress, + As a rule upon visitors place an embargo, + But make an exception in favour of Margot. + + For she brings such a treasure of movement and life, + Fun, spirit and stir, to folk weary with strife. + Though young and though fair, who can hold such a cargo + Of all the good qualities going as Margot? + + Up hill and down dale,'tis a capital name + To blossom in friendship, to sparkle in fame; + There's but one objection can light upon Margot, + Its likeness in rhyming, not meaning, to argot. + + Never mind, never mind, we will give it the slip, + 'Tis not argot, the language, but Argo, the ship; + And by sea or by land, I will swear you may far go + Before you can hit on a double for Margot. + +W. E. G. December 17th, 1889. + +I received this at Glen by the second post on the day of my +arrival, too soon for me to imagine my host had written it, so I +wrote to our dear old friend, Godfrey Webb--always under suspicion +of playing jokes upon us--to say that he had overdone it this +time, as Gladstone had too good a hand-writing for him to +caricature convincingly. When I found that I was wrong, I wrote to +my poet: + +Dec. 19th, 1889. VERY DEAR AND HONOURED MR. GLADSTONE, + +At first I thought your poem must have been a joke, written by +some one who knew of my feelings for you and my visit to Hawarden; +but, when I saw the signature and the post-mark, I was convinced +it could be but from you. It has had the intoxicating effect of +turning my head with pleasure; if I began I should never cease +thanking you. Getting four rhymes to my name emphasizes your +uncommon genius, I think! And Argo the ship is quite a new idea +and a charming one. I love the third verse; that Margot is a +capital name to blossom in friendship and sparkle in fame. You +must allow me to say that you are ever such a dear. It is +impossible to believe that you will be eighty to-morrow, but I +like to think of it, for it gives most people an opportunity of +seeing how life should be lived without being spent. + +There is no blessing, beauty or achievement that I do not wish +you. + +In truth and sincerity, Yours, + +MARGOT TENNANT + +A propos of this, twelve years later I received the following +letter from Lord Morley: + +THE RED HOUSE, HAWARDEN, CHESTER, + +July 18th, 1901. + +I have just had such a cheerful quarter-of-an-hour--a packet of +YOUR letters to Mr. G. Think--! I've read them all!--and they +bring the writer back to me with queer and tender vividness. Such +a change from Bishops!!! Why do you never address me as "Very dear +and honoured Sir"? I'm not quite eighty-five yet, but I soon shall +be. + +Ever yours, JOHN MORLEY. + +I have heard people say that the Gladstone family never allowed +him to read a newspaper with anything hostile to himself in it; +all this is the greatest rubbish; no one interfered with his +reading. The same silly things were said about the great men of +that day as of this and will continue to be said; and the same +silly geese will believe them. I never observed that Gladstone was +more easily flattered than other men. He WAS more flattered and by +more people, because he was a bigger man and lived a longer life; +but he was remarkably free from vanity of any kind. He would +always laugh at a good thing, if you chose the right moment in +which to tell it to him; but there were moods in which he was not +inclined to be amused. + +Once, when he and I were talking of Jane Welsh Carlyle, I told him +that a friend of Carlyle's, an old man whom I met at Balliol, had +told me that one of his favourite stories was of an Irishman who, +when asked where he was driving his pig to, said: + +"Cark. ..." (Cork.) + +"But," said his interlocutor, "your head is turned to Mullingar +... !" + +To which the man replied: + +"Whist! He'll hear ye!" + +This delighted Mr. Gladstone. I also told him one of Jowett's +favourite stories, of how George IV. went down to Portsmouth for +some big function and met a famous admiral of the day. He clapped +him on the back and said in a loud voice: + +"Well, my dear Admiral, I hear you are the greatest blackguard in +Portsmouth!" + +At which the Admiral drew himself up, saluted the King and said: + +"I hope, Sir, YOU have not come down to take away my reputation." + +I find in an old diary an account of a drive I had with Gladstone +after my sister Laura died. This is what I wrote: + +"On Saturday, 29th May, 1886, Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone came to pay +us a visit at 40 Grosvenor Square. Papa had been arranging the +drawing-room preparatory to their arrival and was in high +spirits. I was afraid he might resent my wish to take Mr. +Gladstone up to my room after lunch and talk to him alone. +However, Aunty Pussy--as we called Mrs. Gladstone--with a great +deal of winking, led papa away and said to mamma: + +"'William and Margot are going to have a little talk!' + +"I had not met or seen Mr. Gladstone since Laura's death. + +"When he had climbed up to my boudoir, he walked to the window and +admired the trees in the square, deploring their uselessness and +asking whether the street lamp--which crossed the square path in +the line of our eyes--was a child. + +"I asked him if he would approve of the square railings being +taken away and the glass and trees made into a place with seats, +such as you see in foreign towns, not merely for the convenience +of sitting down, but for the happiness of invalids and idlers who +court the shade or the sun. This met with his approval, but he +said with some truth that the only people who could do this--or +prevent it--were 'the resident aristocracy.' + +"He asked if Laura had often spoken of death. I said yes and that +she had written about it in a way that was neither morbid nor +terrible. I showed him some prayers she had scribbled in a book, +against worldliness and high spirits. He listened with reverence +and interest. I don't think I ever saw his face wear the +expression that Millais painted in our picture as distinctly as +when, closing the book, he said to me: + +"'It requires very little faith to believe that so rare a creature +as your sister Laura is blessed and with God.' + +"Aunty Pussy came into the room and the conversation turned to +Laurence Oliphant's objection to visiting the graves of those we +love. They disagreed with this and he said: + +"'I think, on the contrary, one should encourage oneself to find +consolation in the few tangible memories that one can claim; it +should not lessen faith in their spirits; and there is surely a +silent lesson to be learnt from the tombstone.' + +"Papa and mamma came in and we all went down to tea. Mr. G., +feeling relieved by the change of scene and topic, began to talk +and said he regretted all his life having missed the opportunity +of knowing Sir Walter Scott, Dr. Arnold and Lord Melbourne. He +told us a favourite story of his. He said: + +"'An association of ladies wrote and asked me to send them a few +words on that unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots. In the penury of my +knowledge and the confusion arising from the conflicting estimates +of poor Mary, I thought I would write to Bishop Stubbs. All he +replied was, "Mary is looking up."' + +"After this I drove him back to Downing Street in my phaeton, +round the Park and down Knights bridge. I told him I found it +difficult to judge of people's brains if they were very slow. + +"MR. GLADSTONE: "I wish, then, that you had had the privilege of +knowing Mr. Cobden; he was at once the slowest and quite one of +the cleverest men I ever met. Personally I find it far easier to +judge of brains than character; perhaps it is because in my line +of life motives are very hard to fathom, and constant association +with intelligence and cultivation leads to a fair toleration and +criticism of all sorts and conditions of men.' + +"He talked of Bright and Chamberlain and Lord Dalhousie,[Footnote: +The late Earl of Dalhousie.] who, he said, was one of the best +and most conscientious men he had ever known. He told me that, +during the time he had been Prime Minister, he had been personally +asked for every great office in the State, including the +Archbishopric of Canterbury, and this not by maniacs but by highly +respectable men, sometimes even his friends. He said that +Goschen's critical power was sound and subtle, but that he spoilt +his speeches by a touch of bitterness. Mr. Parnell, he said, was a +man of genius, born to great things. He had power, decision and +reserve; he saw things as they were and had confidence in himself. +(Ten days after this drive, Mr. Gladstone made his last great +speech on Irish Home Rule.) + +"I made him smile by telling him how Lord Kimberley told me that, +one day in Dublin, when he was Viceroy, he had received a letter +which began: + +"'My Lord, To-morrow we intend to kill you at the corner of +Kildare Street; but we would like you to know there is nothing +personal in it!' + +"He talked all the way down Piccadilly about the Irish character, +its wit, charm, grace and intelligence. I nearly landed my phaeton +into an omnibus in my anxiety to point out the ingratitude and +want of purpose of the Irish; but he said that in the noblest of +races the spirit of self-defence had bred mean vices and that +generation after generation were born in Ireland with their blood +discoloured by hatred of the English Governments. + +"'Tories have no hope, no faith,' he continued, 'and the best of +them have class-interest and the spirit of antiquity, but the last +has been forgotten, and only class-interest remains. Disraeli was +a great Tory. It grieves me to see people believing in Randolph +Churchill as his successor, for he has none of the genius, +patience or insight which Dizzy had in no small degree.' + +"Mr. Gladstone told me that he was giving a dinner to the Liberal +party that night, and he added: + +"'If Hartington is in a good humour, I intend to say to him, +"Don't move a vote of want of confidence in me after dinner, or +you will very likely carry it."' + +"'He laughed at this, and told me some days after that Lord +Hartington had been delighted with the idea. + +"He strongly advised me to read a little book by one Miss Tollet, +called Country Conversations, which had been privately printed, +and deplored the vast amount of poor literature that was +circulated, 'when an admirable little volume like this cannot be +got by the most ardent admirers now the authoress is dead.'" (In +parenthesis, I often wish I had been able to tell Mr. Gladstone +that Jowett left me this little book and his Shakespeare in his +will.) + +"We drove through the Green Park and I pulled up on the Horse +Guards Parade at the garden-gate of 10 Downing Street. He got out +of the phaeton, unlocked the gate and, turning round, stood with +his hat off and his grey hair blowing about his forehead, holding +a dark, homespun cape close round his shoulders. He said with +great grace that he had enjoyed his drive immensely, that he hoped +it would occur again and that I had a way of saying things and a +tone of voice that would always remind him of my sister Laura. His +dear old face looked furrowed with care and the outline of it was +sharp as a profile. I said good-bye to him and drove away; perhaps +it was the light of the setting sun, or the wind, or perhaps +something else, but my eyes were full of tears." + +My husband, in discussing with me Gladstone's sense of humour, +told me the following story: + +"During the Committee Stage of the Home Rule Bill in the session +of 1893, I was one evening in a very thin House, seated by the +side of Mr. Gladstone on the Treasury Bench, of which we were the +sole occupants. His eyes were half-closed, and he seemed to be +absorbed in following the course of a dreary discussion on the +supremacy of Parliament. Suddenly he turned to me with an air of +great animation and said, in his most solemn tones, 'Have you ever +considered who is the ugliest man in the party opposite? + +"MR. ASQUITH: 'Certainly; it is without doubt X' (naming a famous +Anglo-Indian statesman). + +"MR. GLADSTONE: 'You are wrong. X is no doubt an ugly fellow, but +a much uglier is Y' (naming a Queen's Counsel of those days). + +"MR. ASQUITH: 'Why should you give him the preference?' + +"MR. GLADSTONE: 'Apply a very simple test. Imagine them both +magnified on a colossal scale. X's ugliness would then begin to +look dignified and even impressive, while the more you enlarged Y +the meaner he would become.'" + +I have known seven Prime Ministers--Gladstone, Salisbury, +Rosebery, Campbell-Bannerman, Arthur Balfour, Asquith and Lloyd +George--every one of them as different from the others as +possible. I asked Arthur Balfour once if there was much difference +between him and his uncle. I said: + +"Lord Salisbury does not care fanatically about culture or +literature. He may like Jane Austen, Scott or Sainte-Beuve, for +all I know, BUT HE IS NOT A SCHOLAR; he does not care for Plato, +Homer, Virgil or any of the great classics. He has a wonderful +sense of humour and is a beautiful writer, of fine style; but I +should say he is above everything a man of science and a +Churchman. All this can be said equally well of you." + +To which he replied: + +"There is a difference. My uncle is a Tory... and I am a Liberal." + +I delighted in the late Lord Salisbury, both in his speaking and +in his conversation. I had a kind of feeling that he could always +score off me with such grace, good humour and wit that I would +never discover it. He asked me once what my husband thought of his +son Hugh's speaking, to which I answered: + +"I will not tell you, because you don't know anything about my +husband and would not value his opinion. You know nothing about +our House of Commons either, Lord Salisbury; only the other day +you said in public that you had never even seen Parnell." + +LORD SALISBURY (pointing to his waistcoat): "My figure is not +adapted for the narrow seats in your peers' gallery, but I can +assure you you are doing me an injustice. I was one of the first +to predict, both in private and in public, that Mr. Asquith would +have a very great future. I see no one of his generation, or even +among the younger men, at all comparable to him. Will you not +gratify my curiosity by telling me what he thinks of my son Hugh's +speaking?" + +I was luckily able to say that my husband considered Lord Hugh +Cecil the best speaker in the House of Commons and indeed +anywhere, at which Lord Salisbury remarked: + +"Do you think he would say so if he heard him speak on subjects +other than the Church?" + +I assured him that he had heard him on Free Trade and many +subjects and that his opinion remained unchanged. He thought that, +if they could unknot themselves and cover more ground, both he and +his brother, Bob Cecil, had great futures. + +I asked Lord Salisbury if he had ever heard Chamberlain speak +(Chamberlain was Secretary of State for the Colonies at the time). + +LORD SALISBURY: "It is curious you should ask me this. I heard him +for the first time this afternoon." + +MARGOT: "Where did you hear him? And what was he speaking about?" + +LORD SALISBURY: "I heard him at Grosvenor House. Let me see...what +was he speaking about? ... (reflectively) Australian washer- +women? I think...or some such thing. ..." + +MARGOT: "What did you think of it?" + +LORD SALISBURY: "He seems a good, business-like speaker." + +MARGOT: "I suppose at this moment Mr. Chamberlain is as much hated +as Gladstone ever was?" + +LORD SALISBURY: "There is a difference. Mr. Gladstone was hated, +but he was very much loved. Does any one love Mr. Chamberlain?" + +One day after this conversation he came to see me, bringing with +him a signed photograph of himself. We of the Liberal Party were +much exercised over the shadow of Protection which had been +presented to us by Mr. Ritchie, the then Chancellor of the +Exchequer, putting a tax upon corn; and the Conservative Party, +with Mr. Balfour as its Prime Minister, was not doing well. We +opened the conversation upon his nephew and the fiscal question. + +I was shocked by his apparent detachment and said: + +"But do you mean to tell me you don't think there is any danger of +England becoming Protectionist?" + +LORD SALISBURY (with a sweet smile): "Not the slightest! There +will always be a certain number of foolish people who will be +Protectionists, but they will easily be overpowered by the wise +ones. Have you ever known a man of first-rate intellect in this +country who was a Protectionist?" + +MARGOT: "I never thought of it, but Lord Milner is the only one I +can think of for the moment." + +He entirely agreed with me and said: + +"No, you need not be anxious. Free Trade will always win against +Protection in this country. This will not be the trouble of the +future." + +MARGOT: "Then what will be?" + +LORD SALISBURY: "The House of Lords is the difficulty that I +foresee." + +I was surprised and incredulous and said quietly: + +"Dear Lord Salisbury, I have heard of the House of Lords all my +life! But, stupid as it has been, no one will ever have the power +to alter it. Why do you prophesy that it will cause trouble?" + +LORD SALISBURY: "You may think me vain, Mrs. Asquith, but, as long +as I am there, nothing will happen. I understand my lords +thoroughly; but, when I go, mistakes will be made: the House of +Lords will come into conflict with the Commons." + +MARGOT: "You should have taught it better ways! I am afraid it +must be your fault!" + +LORD SALISBURY (smiling): "Perhaps; but what do YOU think will be +the next subject of controversy?" + +MARGOT: "If what you say is true and Protection IS impossible in +this country, I think the next row will be over the Church of +England; it is in a bad way." + +I proceeded to denounce the constant building of churches while +the parsons' pay was so cruelly small. I said that few good men +could afford to go into the Church at all; and the assumed voices, +both in the reading and in the preaching, got on the nerves of +every one who cared to listen to such a degree that the churches +were becoming daily duller and emptier. + +He listened with patience to all this and then got up and said: + +"Now I must go; I shall not see you again." + +Something in his voice made me look at him. + +"You aren't ill, are you?" I asked with apprehension. + +To which he replied: + +"I am going into the country." + +I never saw him again and, when I heard of his death, I regretted +I had not seen him oftener. + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE BEAUTIFUL KATE VAUGHAN--COACHED BY COQUELIN IN MOLIERE-- +ROSEBERY'S POPULARITY AND ELOQUENCE--CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN BON-VIVANT +AND BOULEVARDIER--BALFOUR'S MOT; HIS CHARM AND WIT; HIS TASTES AND +PREFERENCES; HIS RELIGIOUS SPECULATION + + +The next Prime Minister, whom I knew better than either Mr. +Gladstone or Lord Salisbury, was Lord Rosebery. + +When I was a little girl, my mother took us to stay at Thomas's +Hotel, Berkeley Square, to have a course of dancing lessons from +the fashionable and famous M. d'Egville. These lessons put me in +high spirits, because my master told me I could always make a +living on the stage. His remarks were justified by a higher +authority ten years later: the beautiful Kate Vaughan of the +Gaiety Theatre. + +I made her acquaintance in this way: I was a good amateur actress +and with the help of Miss Annie Schletter, a friend of mine who is +on the English stage now, I thought we might act Moliere's +Precieuses ridicules together for a charity matinee. Coquelin--the +finest actor of Moliere that ever lived--was performing in London +at the time and promised he would not only coach me in my part but +lend his whole company for our performance. He gave me twelve +lessons and I worked hard for him. He was intensely particular; +and I was more nervous over these lessons than I ever felt riding +over high timber. My father was so delighted at what Coquelin said +to him about me and my acting that he bought a fine early copy of +Moliere's plays which he made me give him. I enclose his letter of +refusal: + +MY DEAREST LITTLE MARGOT, + +Je suis tres mecontent de vous. Je croyais que vous me traitiez +tout a fait en ami, car c'etait en ami que j'avais accepte de vous +offrir quelques indications sur les Precieuses...et voila que vous +m'envoyez un enorme cadeau...imprudence d'abord parce que j'ai +tous les beaux Moliere qui existent et ensuite parce qu'il ne +fallait pas envoyer ombre de quoi que ce soit a votre ami Coq. + +Je vais tout faire, malgre cela, pour aller vous voir un instant +au'jourd'hui, mais je ne suis pas certain d'y parvenir. + +Remerciez votre amie Madelon et dites-lui bien qu'elle non plus ne +me doit absolument rien. + +J'aime mieux un tout petit peu de la plus legere gratitude que +n'importe quoi. Conservez, ma chere Margot, un bon souvenir de ce +petit travail qui a du vous amuser beaucoup et qui nous a reunis +dans les meilleurs sentiments du monde; continuons nous cette +sympathie que je trouve moi tout a fait exquise--et croyez qu'en +la continuant de votre cote, vous serez mille fois plus que quitte +envers votre tres devoue + +COQ. + +Coquelin the younger was our stage-manager, and acted the +principal part. When it was over and the curtain went down, +"Freddy Wellesley's [Footnote: The Hon. F. Wellesley, a famous +bean and the husband of Kate Vaughan.] band" was playing Strauss +valses in the entr'acve, while the audience was waiting for Kate +Vaughan to appear in a short piece called The Dancing Lesson, the +most beautiful solo dance ever seen. I was alone on the stage and, +thinking that no one could see me, I slipped off my Moliere hoop +of flowered silk and let myself go, in lace petticoats, to the +wonderful music. Suddenly I heard a rather Cockney voice say from +the wings: + +"My Lord! How you can dance! Who taught you, I'd like to know?" + +I turned round and saw the lovely face of Kate Vaughan. She wore a +long, black, clinging crepe-de-chine dress and a little black +bonnet with a velvet bow over one ear; her white throat and +beautiful arms were bare. + +"Why," she said, "you could understudy me, I believe! You come +round and I'll show you my parts and YOU will never lack for +goldie boys!" + +I remember the expression, because I had no idea what she meant by +it. She explained that, if I became her under-study at the Gaiety, +I would make my fortune. I was surprised that she had taken me for +a professional, but not more so than she was when I told her that +I had never had a lesson in ballet-dancing in my life. + +My lovely coach, however, fell sick and had to give up the stage. +She wrote me a charming letter, recommending me to her own +dancing-master, M. d'Auban, under whom I studied for several +years. + +One day, on returning from my early dancing-lesson to Thomas's +Hotel, I found my father talking to Lord Rosebery. He said I had +better run away; so, after kissing him and shaking hands with the +stranger I left the room. As I shut the door, I heard Lord +Rosebery say: + +"Your girl has beautiful eyes." + +I repeated this upstairs, with joy and excitement, to the family, +who, being in a good humour, said they thought it was true enough +if my eyes had not been so close together. I took up a glass, had +a good look at myself and was reluctantly compelled to agree. + +I asked my father about Lord Rosebery afterwards, and he said: + +"He is far the most brilliant young man living and will certainly +be Prime Minister one day." + +Lord Rosebery was born with almost every advantage: he had a +beautiful smile, an interesting face, a remarkable voice and +natural authority. When at Oxford, he had been too much interested +in racing to work and was consequently sent down--a punishment +shared at a later date and on different grounds by another +distinguished statesman, the present Viscount Grey--but no one +could say he was not industrious at the time that I knew him and a +man of education. He made his fame first by being Mr. Gladstone's +chairman at the political meetings in the great Midlothian +campaign, where he became the idol of Scotland. Whenever there was +a crowd in the streets or at the station, in either Glasgow or +Edinburgh, and I enquired what it was all about, I always received +the same reply: + +"Rozbury!" + +I think Lord Rosebery would have had a better nervous system and +been a happier man if he had not been so rich. Riches are over- +estimated in the Old Testament: the good and successful man +receives too many animals, wives, apes, she-goats and peacocks. +The values are changed in the New: Christ counsels a different +perfection and promises another reward. He does not censure the +man of great possessions, but He points out that his riches will +hamper him in his progress to the Kingdom of Heaven and that he +would do better to sell all; and He concludes with the penetrating +words: + +"Of what profit is it to a man if he gain the whole world and lose +his own soul?" + +The soul here is freedom from self. + +Lord Rosebery was too thin-skinned, too conscious to be really +happy. He was not self-swayed like Gladstone, but he was self- +enfolded. He came into power at a time when the fortunes of the +Liberal party were at their lowest; and this, coupled with his +peculiar sensibility, put a severe strain upon him. Some people +thought that he was a man of genius, morbidly sensitive shrinking +from public life and the Press, cursed with insufficient ambition, +sudden, baffling, complex and charming. Others thought that he was +a man irresistible to his friends and terrible to his enemies, +dreaming of Empire, besought by kings and armies to put countries +and continents straight, a man whose notice blasted or blessed +young men of letters, poets, peers or politicians, who at once +scared and compelled every one he met by his freezing silence, his +playful smile, or the weight of his moral indignation: the truth +being that he was a mixture of both. + +Lord Salisbury told me he was the best occasional speaker he had +ever heard; and certainly he was an exceptionally gifted person. +He came to Glen constantly in my youth and all of us worshipped +him. No one was more alarming to the average stranger or more +playful and affectionate in intimacy than Lord Rosebery. + +An announcement in some obscure paper that he was engaged to be +married to me came between us in later years. He was seriously +annoyed and thought I ought to have contradicted this. I had never +even heard the report till I got a letter in Cairo from Paris, +asking if I would not agree to the high consideration and +respectful homages of the writer and allow her to make my +chemises. After this, the matter went completely out of my head, +till, meeting him one day in London, I was greeted with such +frigid self-suppression that I felt quite exhausted. A few months +later, our thoughtful Press said I was engaged to be married to +Arthur Balfour. As I had seen nothing of Lord Rosebery since he +had gone into a period of long mourning, I was acclimatised to +doing without him, but to lose Arthur's affection and friendship +would have been an irreparable personal loss to me. I need not +have been afraid, for this was just the kind of rumour that +challenged his insolent indifference to the public and the Press. +Seeing me come into Lady Rothschild's ball-room one night, he left +the side of the man he was conversing with and with his elastic +step stalked down the empty parquet floor to greet me. He asked me +to sit down next to him in a conspicuous place; and we talked +through two dances. I was told afterwards that some one who had +been watching us said to him: + +"I hear you are going to marry Margot Tennant." + +To which he replied: + +"No, that is not so. I rather think of having a career of my own." + +Lord Rosebery's two antagonists, Sir William Harcourt and Sir +Henry Campbell-Bannerman, were very different men. + +Sir William ought to have lived in the eighteenth century. To +illustrate his sense of humour: he told me that women should be +played with like fish; only in the one case you angle to make them +rise and in the other to make them fall. He had a great deal of +wit and nature, impulsive generosity of heart and a temperament +that clouded his judgment. He was a man to whom life had added +nothing; he was perverse, unreasonable, brilliant, boisterous and +kind when I knew him; but he must have been all these in the +nursery. + +At the time of the split in our party over the Boer War, when we +were in opposition and the phrase "methods of barbarism" became +famous, my personal friends were in a state of the greatest +agitation. Lord Spencer, who rode with me nearly every morning, +deplored the attitude which my husband had taken up. He said it +would be fatal to his future, dissociating himself from the +Pacifists and the Pro-Boers, and that he feared the Harcourts +would never speak to us again. As I was devoted to the latter, and +to their son Lulu [Footnote: The present Viscount Harcourt.] and +his wife May--still my dear and faithful friends--I felt full of +apprehension. We dined with Sir Henry and Lady Lucy one night and +found Sir William and Lady Harcourt were of the company. I had no +opportunity of approaching either of them before dinner, but when +the men came out of the dining-room, Sir William made a bee-line +for me. Sitting down, he took my hand in both of his and said: + +"My dear little friend, you need not mind any of the quarrels! The +Asquith evenings or the Rosebery afternoons, all these things will +pass; but your man is the man of the future!" + +These were generous words, for, if Lord Morley, my husband and +others had backed Sir William Harcourt instead of Lord Rosebery +when Gladstone resigned, he would certainly have become Prime +Minister. + +I never knew Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman well, but whenever we +did meet we had great laughs together. He was essentially a bon +vivant, a boulevardier and a humorist. At an official luncheon +given in honour of some foreign Minister, Campbell-Bannerman, in +an admirable speech in French--a language with which he was +familiar--described Arthur Balfour, who was on one side of him, +as l'enfant gate of English politics and Chamberlain, who was also +at the lunch, as l'enfant terrible. + +On the opening day of Parliament, February the 14th, 1905, he made +an amusing and telling speech. It was a propos of the fiscal +controversy which was raging all over England and which was +destined to bring the Liberal party into power at the succeeding +two general elections. He said that Arthur Balfour was "like a +general who, having given the command to his men to attack, found +them attacking one another; when informed of this, he shrugs his +shoulders and says that he can't help it if they will +misunderstand his orders!" + +In spite of the serious split in the Liberal Party over the Boer +War, involving the disaffection of my husband, Grey and Haldane, +Campbell-Bannerman became Prime Minister in 1905. + +He did not have a coupon election by arrangement with the +Conservative Party to smother his opponents, hut asked Henry, +before he consulted any one, what office he would take for himself +and what he thought suitable for other people in his new Cabinet. +Only men of a certain grandeur of character can do these things, +but every one who watched the succeeding events would agree that +Campbell-Bannerman's generosity was rewarded. + +When C.B.--as he was called--went to Downing Street, he was a +tired man; his wife was a complete invalid and his own health had +been undermined by nursing her. As time went on, the late hours in +the House of Commons began to tell upon him and he relegated more +and more of his work to my husband. + +One evening he sent for Henry to go and see him at 10 Downing +Street and, telling him that he was dying, thanked him for all he +had done, particularly for his great work on the South African +constitution. He turned to him and said: + +"Asquith, you are different from the others, and I am glad to have +known you ... God bless you!" + +C.B. died a few hours after this. + +I now come to another Prime Minister, Arthur Balfour. + +When Lord Morley was writing the life of Gladstone, Arthur Balfour +said to me: + +"If you see John Morley, give him my love and tell him to be bold +and indiscreet." + +A biography must not be a brief either for or against its client +and it should be the same with an autobiography. In writing about +yourself and other living people you must take your courage in +both hands. I had thought of putting as a motto on the title-page +of this book, "As well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb"; but I +gave it up when my friends gave me away and I saw it quoted in the +newspapers; and I chose Blake and the Bible. + +If I have written any words here that wound a friend or an enemy, +I can only refer them to my general character and ask to be judged +by it. I am not tempted to be spiteful and have never consciously +hurt any one in my life; but in this book I must write what I +think without fear or favour and with a strict regard to +unmodelled truth. + +Arthur Balfour was never a standard-bearer. He was a self- +indulgent man of simple tastes. For the average person he was as +puzzling to understand and as difficult to know as he was easy +for me and many others to love. You may say that no average man +can know a Prime Minister intimately; but most of us have met +strangers whose minds we understood and whose hearts we reached +without knowledge and without effort; and some of us have had an +equally surprising and more painful experience when, after years +of love given and received, we find the friend upon whom we had +counted has become a stranger. + +He was difficult to understand, because I was never sure that he +needed me; and difficult to know intimately, because of his +formidable detachment. The most that many of us could hope for was +that he had a taste in us as one might have in clocks or +furniture. + +Balfour was blessed or cursed at his birth, according to +individual opinion, by two assets: charm and wits. The first he +possessed to a greater degree than any man, except John Morley, +that I have ever met. His social distinction, exquisite attention, +intellectual tact, cool grace and lovely bend of the head made him +not only a flattering listener, but an irresistible companion. The +disadvantage of charm--which makes me say cursed or blessed--is +that it inspires every one to combine and smooth the way for you +throughout life. As the earnest housemaid removes dust, so all his +friends and relations kept disagreeable things from his path; and +this gave him more leisure in his life than any one ought to have. + +His wits, with which I say that he was also cursed or blessed-- +quite apart from his brains--gave him confidence in his +improvisings and the power to sustain any opinion on any subject, +whether he held the opinion or not, with equal brilliance, +plausibility and success, according to his desire to dispose of +you or the subject. He either finessed with the ethical basis of +his intellect or had none. This made him unintelligible to the +average man, unforgivable to the fanatic and a god to the +blunderer. + +On one occasion my husband and I went to a lunch, given by old Mr. +McEwan, to meet Mr. Frank Harris. I might have said what my sister +Laura did, when asked if she had enjoyed herself at a similar +meal. "I would not have enjoyed it if I hadn't been there," as, +with the exception of Arthur Balfour, I did not know a soul in the +room. He sat like a prince, with his sphinx-like imperviousness to +bores, courteous and concentrated on the languishing +conversation. I made a few gallant efforts and my husband, who is +particularly good on these self-conscious occasions, did his best +... but to no purpose. + +Frank Harris, in a general disquisition to the table, at last +turned to Arthur Balfour and said, with an air of finality: + +"The fact is, Mr. Balfour, all the faults of the age come from +Christianity and journalism." + +To which Arthur replied with rapier quickness and a child-like +air: + +"Christianity, of course ... but why journalism?" + +When men said, which they have done now for over thirty years, +that Arthur Balfour was too much of a philosopher to be really +interested in politics, I always contradicted them. With his +intellectual taste, perfect literary style and keen interest in +philosophy and religion, nothing but a great love of politics +could account for his not having given up more of his time to +writing. People thought that he was not interested because he had +nothing active in his political aspirations; he saw nothing that +needed changing. Low wages, drink, disease, sweating and +overcrowding did not concern him; they left him cold, and he had +not the power to express moral indignation which he was too +detached to feel. + +He was a great Parliamentarian, a brilliant debater and a famous +Irish Secretary in difficult times, but his political energies lay +in tactics. He took a Puck-like pleasure in watching the game of +party politics, not in the interests of any particular political +party, nor from esprit de corps, but from taste. This was very +conspicuous in the years 1903 to 1906, during the fiscal +controversy; but any one with observation could watch this +peculiarity carried to a fine art wherever and whenever the +Government to which he might be attached was in a tight place. + +Politically, what he cared most about were problems of national +defence. He inaugurated the Committee of Defence and appointed as +its permanent Chairman the Prime Minister of the day; everything +connected with the size of the army and navy interested him. The +size of your army, however, must depend on the aims and quality of +your diplomacy; and, if you have Junkers in your Foreign Office +and jesters on your War Staff, you must have permanent +conscription. It is difficult to imagine any one in this country +advocating a large standing army plus a navy, which is vital to +us; but such there were and such there will always be. With the +minds of these militarists, protectionists and conscriptionists, +Arthur Balfour had nothing in common at any time. He and the men +of his opinions were called the Blue Water School; they deprecated +fear of invasion and in consequence were violently attacked by the +Tories. But, in spite of an army corps of enthusiasts kept upon +our coasts to watch the traitors with towels signalling to the sea +with full instructions where to drive the county cows to, no +German army during the great War attempted to land upon our +shores, thus amply justifying Arthur Balfour's views. + +The artists who have expressed with the greatest perfection human +experience, from an external point of view, he delighted in. He +preferred appeals to his intellect rather than claims upon his +feelings. Handel in music, Pope in poetry, Scott in narration, +Jane Austen in fiction and Sainte-Beuve in criticism supplied him +with everything he wanted. He hated introspection and shunned +emotion. + +What interested me most and what I liked best in Arthur Balfour +was not his charm or his wit--and not his politics--but his +writing and his religion. + +Any one who has read his books with a searching mind will perceive +that his faith in God is what has really moved him in life; and no +one can say that he has not shown passion here. Religious +speculation and contemplation were so much more to him than +anything else that he felt justified in treating politics and +society with a certain levity. + +His mother, Lady Blanche Balfour, was a sister of the late Lord +Salisbury and a woman of influence. I was deeply impressed by her +character as described in a short private life of her written by +the late minister of Whittingehame, Mr. Robertson. I should be +curious to know, if it were possible, how many men and women of +mark in this generation have had religious mothers. I think much +fewer than in mine. My husband's mother, Mr. McKenna's and Lord +Haldane's were all profoundly religious. + +This is part of one of Lady Blanche Balfour's prayers, written at +the age of twenty-six: + +From the dangers of metaphysical subtleties and from profitless +speculation on the origin of evil--Good Lord deliver me. + +From hardness of manner, coldness, misplaced sarcasm, and all +errors and imperfections of manner or habit, from words and deeds +by which Thy good may be evil-spoken, of through me, or not +promoted to the utmost of my ability--Good Lord deliver me. + +Teach me my duties to superiors, equals and inferiors. Give me +gentleness and kindliness of manner and perfect tact; a thoughtful +heart such as Thou lovest; leisure to care for the little things +of others, and a habit of realising in my own mind their positions +and feelings. + +Give me grace to trust my children--with the peace that passeth +all understanding--to Thy love and care. Teach me to use my +influence over each and all, especially children and servants, +aright, that I may give account of this, as well as of every other +talent, with joy--and especially that I may guide with the love +and wisdom which are far above the religious education of my +children. + +By Lady Blanche Balfour, 1851. + +Born and bred in the Lowlands of Scotland, Arthur Balfour avoided +the narrowness and materialism of the extreme High Church; but he +was a strong Churchman. I wrote in a very early diary: "I wish +Arthur would write something striking on the Established Church, +as he could express better than any one living how much its +influence for good in the future will depend on the spirit in +which it is worked." + +His mind was more critical than constructive; and those of his +religious writings which I have read have been purely analytical. +My attention was first arrested by an address he delivered at the +Church Congress at Manchester in 1888. The subject which he chose +was Positivism, without any special reference to the peculiarities +of Comte's system. He called it The Religion of Humanity. +[Footnote: An essay delivered at the Church Congress, Manchester, +and printed in a pamphlet] In this essay he first dismisses the +purely scientific and then goes on to discuss the Positivist view +of man. The following passages will give some idea of his manner +and style of writing: + +Man, so far as natural science itself is able to teach us, is no +longer the final cause of the universe, the heaven-descended heir +of all the ages. His very existence is an accident, his history a +brief and discreditable episode in the life of one of the meanest +of the planets. Of the combination of causes which first converted +a piece or pieces of unorganised jelly into the living progenitors +of humanity, science indeed, as yet, knows nothing. It is enough +that from such beginnings, Famine, Disease, and Mutual Slaughter, +fit nurses of the future lord of creation, have gradually evolved, +after infinite travail, a race with conscience enough to know that +it is vile, and intelligence enough to know that it is +insignificant. We survey the past and see that its history is of +blood and tears, of helpless blundering, of wild revolt, of stupid +acquiescence, of empty aspirations. We sound the future, and learn +that after a period, long compared with the individual life, but +short indeed compared with the divisions of time open to our +investigation, the energies of our system will decay, the glory of +the sun will be dimmed, and the earth, tideless and inert, will no +longer tolerate the race which has for a moment disturbed its +solitude. Man will go down into the pit, and all his thoughts will +perish. The uneasy consciousness, which in this obscure corner has +for a brief space broken the contented silence of the Universe, +will be at rest. Matter will know itself no longer. Imperishable +monuments and immortal deeds, death itself, and love stronger than +death, will be as though they had never been. Nor will anything +that is be better or be worse for all that the labour, genius, +devotion, and suffering of man have striven through countless +generations to effect. + +He continues on Positivism as an influence that cannot be +disregarded: + +One of the objects of the "religion of humanity," and it is an +object beyond all praise, is to stimulate the imagination till it +lovingly embraces the remotest fortunes of the whole human family. +But in proportion as this end is successfully attained, in +proportion as we are taught by this or any other religion to +neglect the transient and the personal, and to count ourselves as +labourers for that which is universal and abiding, so surely must +be the increasing range which science is giving to our vision over +the time and spaces of the material universe, and the decreasing +importance of the place which man is seen to occupy in it, strike +coldly on our moral imagination, if so be that the material +universe is all we have to do with. My contention is that every +such religion and every such philosophy, so long as it insists on +regarding man as merely a phenomenon among phenomena, a natural +object among other natural objects, is condemned by science to +failure as an effective stimulus to high endeavour. Love, pity, +and endurance it may indeed leave with us; and this is well. But +it so dwarfs and impoverishes the ideal end of human effort, that +though it may encourage us to die with dignity, it hardly permits +us to live with hope. + +Apart from the unvarying love I have always had for Arthur +Balfour, I should be untrue to myself if I did not feel deeply +grateful for the unchanging friendship of a man who can think and +write like this. + +Of the other two Prime Ministers I cannot write, though no one +knows them better than I do. By no device of mine could I conceal +my feelings; both their names will live with lustre, without my +conscience being chargeable with frigid impartiality or fervent +partisanship, and no one will deny that all of us should be +allowed some "private property in thought." + + + + + +END OF BOOK ONE + + + + + +MARGOT ASQUITH + +AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY + + + + + +BOOK TWO + + + + + +PSALM XXXIX + +5. Verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity. + +6. Surely every man walketh in a vain shew: surely they are +disquieted in vain: he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who +shall gather them. + +7. And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in Thee. + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE SOULS--LORD CURZON's POEM AND DINNER PARTY AND WHO WERE THERE +--MARGOT'S INVENTORY OF THE GROUP--TILT WITH THE LATE LADY +LONDONDERRY--VISIT TO TENNYSON; HIS CONTEMPT FOR CRITICS; HIS +HABIT OF LIVING--J. K. S. NOT A SOUL--MARGOT'S FRIENDSHIP WITH +JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS; HIS PRAISE OF MARIE BASHKIRTSEFF + + +No one ever knew how it came about that I and my particular +friends were called "the Souls." The origin of our grouping +together I have already explained: we saw more of one another than +we should probably have done had my sister Laura Lyttelton lived, +because we were in mourning and did not care to go out in general +society; but why we were called "Souls" I do not know. + +The fashionable--what was called the "smart set"--of those days +centred round the Prince of Wales, afterwards King Edward VII, and +had Newmarket for its head-quarters. As far as I could see, there +was more exclusiveness in the racing world than I had ever +observed among the Souls; and the first and only time I went to +Newmarket the welcome extended to me by the shrewd and select +company there made me feel exactly like an alien. + +We did not play bridge or baccarat and our rather intellectual and +literary after-dinner games were looked upon as pretentious. + +Arthur Balfour--the most distinguished of the Souls and idolised +by every set in society--was the person who drew the enemy's fire. +He had been well known before he came among us and it was +considered an impertinence on our part to make him play pencil- +games or be our intellectual guide and critic. Nearly all the +young men in my circle were clever and became famous; and the +women, although not more intelligent, were less worldly than their +fashionable contemporaries and many of them both good to be with +and distinguished to look at. + +What interests me most on looking back now at those ten years is +the loyalty, devotion and fidelity which we showed to one another +and the pleasure which we derived from friendships that could not +have survived a week had they been accompanied by gossip, mocking, +or any personal pettiness. Most of us had a depth of feeling and +moral and religious ambition which are entirely lacking in the +clever young men and women of to-day. Our after-dinner games were +healthier and more inspiring than theirs. "Breaking the news," for +instance, was an entertainment that had a certain vogue among the +younger generation before the war. It consisted of two people +acting together and conveying to their audience various ways in +which they would receive the news of the sudden death of a friend +or a relation and was considered extraordinarily funny; it would +never have amused any of the Souls. The modern habit of pursuing, +detecting and exposing what was ridiculous in simple people and +the unkind and irreverent manner in which slips were made material +for epigram were unbearable to me. This school of thought--which +the young group called "anticant"--encouraged hard sayings and +light doings, which would have profoundly shocked the most +frivolous among us. Brilliance of a certain kind may bring people +together for amusement, but it will not keep them together for +long; and the young, hard pre-war group that I am thinking of was +short-lived. + +The present Lord Curzon [Footnote: Earl Curzon of Kedleston.] also +drew the enemy's fire and was probably more directly responsible +for the name of the Souls than any one. + +He was a conspicuous young man of ability, with a ready pen, a +ready tongue, an excellent sense of humour in private life and +intrepid social boldness. He had appearance more than looks, a +keen, lively face, with an expression of enamelled selfassurance. +Like every young man of exceptional promise, he was called a prig. +The word was so misapplied in those days that, had I been a clever +young man, I should have felt no confidence in myself till the +world had called me a prig. He was a remarkably intelligent person +in an exceptional generation. He had ambition and--what he claimed +for himself in a brilliant description--"middle-class method"; and +he added to a kindly feeling for other people a warm corner for +himself. Some of my friends thought his contemporaries in the +House of Commons, George Wyndham and Harry Cust, would go farther, +as the former promised more originality and the latter was a finer +scholar, but I always said--and have a record of it in my earliest +diaries--that George Curzon would easily outstrip his rivals. He +had two incalculable advantages over them: he was chronically +industrious and self-sufficing; and, though Oriental in his ideas +of colour and ceremony, with a poor sense of proportion, and a +childish love of fine people, he was never self-indulgent. He +neither ate, drank nor smoked too much and left nothing to chance. + +No one could turn with more elasticity from work to play than +George Curzon; he was a first-rate host and boon companion and +showed me and mine a steady and sympathetic love over a long +period of years. Even now, if I died, although he belongs to the +more conventional and does not allow himself to mix with people of +opposite political parties, he would write my obituary notice. + +At the time of which I am telling, he was threatened with lung +trouble and was ordered to Switzerland by his doctors. We were +very unhappy and assembled at a farewell banquet, to which he +entertained us in the Bachelors' Club, on the 10th of July, 1889. +We found a poem welcoming us on our chairs, when we sat down to +dinner, in which we were all honourably and categorically +mentioned. Some of our critics called us "the Gang"--to which +allusion is made here--but we were ultimately known as the Souls. + +This famous dinner and George's poem caused a lot of fun and +friction, jealousy, curiosity and endless discussion. It was +followed two years later by another dinner given by the same host +to the same guests and in the same place, on the 9th of July, +1891. + +The repetition of this dinner was more than the West End of London +could stand; and I was the object of much obloquy. I remember +dining with Sir Stanley and Lady Clarke to meet King Edward--then +Prince of Wales--when my hostess said to me in a loud voice, +across the table: + +"There were some clever people in the world, you know, before you +were born, Miss Tennant!" + +Feeling rather nettled, I replied: + +"Please don't pick me out, Lady Clarke, as if I alone were +responsible for the stupid ones among whom we find ourselves +to-day." + +Having no suspicion of other people, I was seldom on the +defensive and did not mean to be rude but I was young and +intolerant. This was George Curzon's poem: + +[Editor's Note: See footnotes at bottom of poem] + +10th JULY, 1889. + + Ho! list to a lay + Of that company gay, +Compounded of gallants and graces, + Who gathered to dine, + In the year '89, +In a haunt that in Hamilton Place is. + + There, there where they met, + And the banquet was set +At the bidding of GEORGIUS CURZON; + Brave youth! 'tis his pride, + When he errs, that the side +Of respectable licence he errs on. + + Around him that night-- + Was there e'er such a sight? +Souls sparkled and spirits expanded; + For of them critics sang, + That tho' christened the Gang, +By a spiritual link they were banded. + + Souls and spirits, no doubt + But neither without +Fair visible temples to dwell in! + E'en your image divine + Must be girt with a shrine, +For the pious to linger a spell in. + + There was seen at that feast + Of this band, the High Priest, +The heart that to all hearts is nearest; + Him may nobody steal + From the true Common weal, +Tho' to each is dear ARTHUR the dearest. [1] + + America lends, + Nay, she gives when she sends +Such treasures as HARRY and DAISY; [2] + Tho' many may yearn, + None but HARRY can turn +That sweet little head of hers crazy. + + There was much-envied STRATH [3] + With the lady who hath [3] +Taught us all what may life be at twenty; + Of pleasure a taste, + Of duty no waste, +Of gentle philosophy plenty. + + KITTY DRUMMOND was there-- [4] + Where was LAWRENCE, oh! where?-- +And my Lord and my Lady GRANBY; [5] + Is there one of the Gang + Has not wept at the pang +That he never can VIOLET'S man be? + + From WILTON, whose streams + Murmur sweet in our dreams, +Come the Earl and his Countess together; [6] + In her spirit's proud flights + We are whirled to the heights, +He sweetens our stay in the nether. + + Dear EVAN was there, [7] + The first choice of the fair, +To all but himself very gentle! + And ASHRIDGE'S lord [8] + Most insufferably bored +With manners and modes Oriental. + + The Shah, I would bet, + In the East never met +Such a couple as him and his consort. [8] + If the HORNERS you add, [9] + That a man must be mad +Who complains that the Gang is a wrong sort. + + From kindred essay + LADY MARY to-day [10] +Should have beamed on a world that adores her. + Of her spouse debonair [10] + No woman has e'er +Been able to say that he bores her. + + Next BINGY escorts [11] + His dear wife, to our thoughts [11] +Never lost, though withdrawn from our vision, + While of late she has shown + That of spirit alone +Was not fashioned that fair composition. + + No, if humour we count, + The original fount +Must to HUGO be ceded in freehold, + Tho' of equal supplies + In more subtle disguise +Old GODFREY has far from a wee hold! [12] + + MRS. EDDY has come [13] + And we all shall be dumb +When we hear what a lovely voice Emmy's is; + SPENCER, too, would show what [14] + He can do, were it not +For that cursed laryngeal Nemesis. + + At no distance away + Behold ALAN display [15] +That smile that is found so upsetting; + And EDGAR in bower, [16] + In statecraft, in power, +The favourite first in the betting. + + Here a trio we meet, + Whom you never will beat, +Tho' wide you may wander and far go; + From what wonderful art + Of that Gallant Old Bart, +Sprang CHARTY and LUCY and MARGOT? + + To LUCY he gave [17] + The wiles that enslave, +Heart and tongue of an angel to CHARTY; [18] + To MARGOT the wit [19] + And the wielding of it, +That make her the joy of a party. + + LORD TOMMY is proud [20] + That to CHARTY he vowed +The graces and gifts of a true man. + And proud are the friends + Of ALFRED, who blends [21] +The athlete, the hero, the woman! + + From the Gosford preserves + Old ST. JOHN deserves [22] +Great praise for a bag such as HILDA; [22] + True worth she esteemed, + Overpowering he deemed +The subtle enchantment that filled her. + + Very dear are the pair, + He so strong, she so fair, +Renowned as the TAPLOVITE WINNIES; + Ah! he roamed far and wide, + Till in ETTY he spied [23] +A treasure more golden than guineas. + + Here is DOLL who has taught [24] + Us that "words conceal thought" +In his case is a fallacy silly; + HARRY CUST could display [25] + Scalps as many, I lay, +From Paris as in Piccadilly. + + But some there were too-- + Thank the Lord they were few! +Who were bidden to come and who could not: + Was there one of the lot, + Ah! I hope there was not, +Looked askance at the bidding and would not. + + The brave LITTLE EARL [26] + Is away, and his pearl- +Laden spouse, the imperial GLADYS; [26] + By that odious gout + Is LORD COWPER knocked out. [27] +And the wife who his comfort and aid is. [27] + + Miss BETTY'S engaged, + And we all are enraged +That the illness of SIBELL'S not over; [28] + GEORGE WYNDHAM can't sit [29] + At our banquet of wit, +Because he is standing at Dover. + + But we ill can afford + To dispense with the Lord +Of WADDESDON and ill HARRY CHAPLIN; [30, 31] + Were he here, we might shout + As again he rushed out +From the back of that "d--d big sapling." + + We have lost LADY GAY [32] + 'Tis a price hard to pay +For that Shah and his appetite greedy; + And alas! we have lost-- + At what ruinous cost!-- +The charms of the brilliant Miss D.D. [33] + + But we've got in their place, + For a gift of true grace, +VIRGINIA'S marvellous daughter. [34] + Having conquered the States, + She's been blown by the Fates +To conquer us over the water. + + Now this is the sum + Of all those who have come +Or ought to have come to that banquet. + Then call for the bowl, + Flow spirit and soul, +Till midnight not one of you can quit! + + And blest by the Gang + Be the Rhymester who sang +Their praises in doggrel appalling; + More now were a sin-- + Ho, waiters, begin! +Each soul for consomme is calling! + +[Footnotes: + 1 The Right Eton A. J. Balfour. + 2 Mr. and Mrs White. + 3 The Duke and Duchess of Sutherland. + 4 Col. and Mrs L. Drummond. + 5 Now the Duke and Duchess of Rutland. + 6 Earl and Countess of Pembroke. + 7 Hon. Evan Charteris. + 8 Earl and Countess Brownlow. + 9 Sir J. and Lady Horner. +10 Lord and Lady Elcho (now Earl and Countess of Wemyss). +11 Lord and Lady Wenlock. +12 Mr. Godfrey Webb. +13 The Hon. Mrs. E. Bourke. +14 The Hon. Spencer Lyttelton. +15 The Hon. Alan Charteris. +16 Sir E. Vincent (now Lord D'Abernon). +17 Mrs. Graham Smith. +18 Lady Ribblesdale. +19 Mrs. Asquith. +20 Lord Ribblesdale. +21 The Hon. Alfred Lyttelton. +22 The Hon. St. John Brodrick (now Earl of Midleton) and Lady + Hilda Brodrick. +23 Mr. and Mrs. Willy Grenfell (now Lord and Lady Desborough). +24 Mr. A. G. Liddell. +25 Mr. Harry Cust. +26 Earl and Countess de Grey. +27 Earl and Countess Cowper. +28 Countess Grosvenor. +29 The late Right Hon. George Wyndham. +30 Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild. +31 Now Viscount Chaplin. +32 Lady Windsor (now Marchioness of Plymouth). +33 Miss E. Balfour (Widow of the Hon. Alfred Lyttelton). +34 Mrs. Chanler, the American novelist (now Princess Troubetzkoy).] + +For my own and the children's interest I shall try, however +imperfectly, to make a descriptive inventory of some of the Souls +mentioned in this poem and of some of my friends who were not. + +Gladstone's secretary, Sir Algernon West, [Footnote: The Right +Hon. Sir Algernon West.] and Godfrey Webb had both loved Laura and +corresponded with her till she died and they spent all their +holidays at Glen. I never remember the time when Algy West was not +getting old and did not say he wanted to die; but, although he is +ninety, he is still young, good-looking and--what is even more +remarkable--a strong Liberal. He was never one of the Souls, but +he was a faithful and loving early friend of ours. + +Mr. Godfrey Webb was the doyen of the Souls. He was as intimate +with my brothers and parents as he was with my sisters and self. +Godfrey--or Webber as some called him--was not only a man of +parts, but had a peculiar flavour of his own: he had the sense of +humour and observation of a memoirist and his wit healed more than +it cut. For hours together he would poke about the country with a +dog, a gun and a cigar, perfectly independent and self-sufficing, +whether engaged in sport, repartee, or literature. He wrote and +published for private circulation a small book of poems and made +the Souls famous by his proficiency at all our pencil-games. It +would be unwise to quote verses or epigrams that depend so much +upon the occasion and the environment. Only a George Meredith can +sustain a preface boasting of his heroine's wit throughout the +book, but I will risk one example of Godfrey Webb's quickness. He +took up a newspaper one morning in the dining-room at Glen and, +reading that a Mr. Pickering Phipps had broken his leg on rising +from his knees at prayer, he immediately wrote this couplet: + +On bended knees, with fervent lips, Wrestled with Satan Pickering +Phipps, But when for aid he ceased to beg, The wily devil broke +his leg! + +He spent every holiday with us and I do not think he ever missed +being with us on the anniversary of Laura's death, whether I was +at home or abroad. He was a man in a million, the last of the +wits, and I miss him every day of my life. + +Lord Midleton [Footnote: The Right Hon. the Earl of Midleton, of +Peper, Harow, Godalming.]--better known as St. John Brodrick--was +my first friend of interest; I knew him two years before I met +Arthur Balfour or any of the Souls. He came over to Glen while he +was staying with neighbours of ours. + +I wired to him not long ago to congratulate him on being made an +Earl and asked him in what year it was that he first came to Glen; +this is his answer: + +Jan. 12th, 1920. DEAREST MARGOT, + +I valued your telegram of congratulation the more that I know you +and Henry (who has given so many and refused all) attach little +value to titular distinctions. Indeed, it is the only truly +democratic trait about YOU, except a general love of Humanity, +which has always put you on the side of the feeble. I am relieved +to hear you have chosen such a reliable man as Crewe--with his +literary gifts--to be the only person to read your autobiography. + +My visit to Glen in R--y's company was October, 1880, when you +were sixteen. You and Laura flashed like meteors on to a dreary +scene of empty seats at the luncheon table (the shooting party +didn't come in) and filled the room with light, electrified the +conversation and made old R--y falter over his marriage vows +within ten minutes. From then onwards, you have always been the +most loyal and indulgent of friends, forgetting no one as you +rapidly climbed to fame, and were raffled for by all parties--from +Sandringham to the crossing-sweeper. + +Your early years will sell the book. + +Bless you. + +ST. JOHN. + +St. John Midleton was one of the rare people who tell the truth. +Some people do not lie, but have no truth to tell; others are too +agreeable--or too frightened--and lie; but the majority are +indifferent: they are the spectators of life and feel no +responsibility either towards themselves or their neighbour. + +He was fundamentally humble, truthful and one of the few people I +know who are truly loyal and who would risk telling me, or any one +he loved, before confiding to an inner circle faults which both he +and I think might be corrected. I have had a long experience of +inner circles and am constantly reminded of the Spanish proverb, +"Remember your friend has a friend." I think you should either +leave the room when those you love are abused or be prepared to +warn them of what people are thinking. This is, as I know to my +cost, an unpopular view of friendship, but neither St. John nor I +would think it loyal to join in the laughter or censure of a +friend's folly. + +Arthur Balfour himself--the most persistent of friends--remarked +laughingly: + +"St. John pursues us with his malignant fidelity." [Footnote: The +word malignity was obviously used in the sense of the French +malin.] + +This was only a coloured way of saying that Midleton had none of +the detachment commonly found among friends; but, as long as we +are not merely responsible for our actions to the police, so long +must I believe in trying to help those we love. + +St. John has the same high spirits and keenness now that he had +then and the same sweetness and simplicity. There are only a few +women whose friendships have remained as loving and true to me +since my girlhood as his--Lady Horner, Miss Tomlinson [Footnote: +Miss May Tomlinson, of Rye.], Lady Desborough, Mrs. Montgomery, +Lady Wemyss and Lady Bridges [Footnote: J Lady Bridges, wife of +General Sir Tom Bridges.]--but ever since we met in 1880 he has +taken an interest in me and all that concerns me. He was much +maligned when he was Secretary of State for War and bore it +without blame or bitterness. He had infinite patience, intrepid +courage and a high sense of duty; these combined to give him a +better place in the hearts of men than in the fame of newspapers. + +His first marriage was into a family who were incapable of +appreciating his particular quality and flavour; even his mother- +in-law--a dear friend of mine--never understood him and was amazed +when I told her that her son-in-law was worth all of her children +put together, because he had more nature and more enterprise. I +have tested St. John now for many years and never found him +wanting. + +Lord Pembroke [Footnote: George, 13th Earl of Pembroke.] and +George Wyndham were the handsomest of the Souls. Pembroke was the +son of Sidney Herbert, famous as Secretary of State for War during +the Crimea. I met him first the year before I came out. Lord +Kitchener's friend, Lady Waterford--sister to the present Duke of +Beaufort--wrote to my mother asking if Laura could dine with her, +as she had been thrown over at the last minute and wanted a young +woman. As my sister was in the country, my mother sent me. I sat +next to Arthur Balfour; Lord Pembroke was on the other side, round +the corner of the table; and I remember being intoxicated with my +own conversation and the manner in which I succeeded in making +Balfour and Pembroke join in. I had no idea who the splendid +stranger was. He told me several years later that he had sent +round a note in the middle of that dinner to Blanchie Waterford, +asking her what the name of the girl with the red heels was, and +that, when he read her answer, "Margot Tennant," it conveyed +nothing to him. This occurred in 1881 and was for me an eventful +evening. Lord Pembroke was one of the four best-looking men I ever +saw: the others, as I have already said, were the late Earl of +Wemyss, Mr. Wilfrid Blunt--whose memoirs have been recently +published--and Lord D'Abernon [Footnote: Our Ambassador in +Berlin.]. He was six foot four, but his face was even more +conspicuous than his height. There was Russian blood in the +Herbert family and he was the eldest brother of the beautiful Lady +Ripon [Footnote: The late wife of the present Marquis of Ripon.]. +He married Lady Gertrude Talbot, daughter of the twentieth Earl of +Shrewsbury and Talbot, who was nearly as fine to look at as he +himself. He told me among other things at that dinner that he had +known Disraeli and had been promised some minor post in his +government, but had been too ill at the time to accept it. This +developed into a discussion on politics and Peeblesshire, leading +up to our county neighbours; he asked me if I knew Lord Elcho, +[Footnote: The father of the present Earl of Wemyss and March.] of +whose beauty Ruskin had written, and who owned property in my +county. + +"Elcho," said he, "always expected to be invited to join the +government, but I said to Dizzy, 'Elcho is an impossible +politician; he has never understood the meaning of party +government and looks upon it as dishonest for even three people to +attempt to modify their opinions sufficiently to come to an +agreement, leave alone a Cabinet! He is an egotist!' To which +Disraeli replied, 'Worse than that! He is an Elchoist!'" + +Although Lord Pembroke's views on all subjects were remarkably +wide--as shown by the book he published called Roots--he was a +Conservative. We formed a deep friendship and wrote to one another +till he died a few years after my marriage. In one of his letters +to me he added this postscript: + +Keep the outer borders of your heart's sweet garden free from +garish flowers and wild and careless weeds, so that when your +fairy godmother turns the Prince's footsteps your way he may not, +distrusting your nature or his own powers, and only half-guessing +at the treasure within, tear himself reluctantly away, and pass +sadly on, without perhaps your ever knowing that he had been near. + +This, I imagine, gave a correct impression of me as I appeared to +some people. "Garish flowers" and "wild and careless weeds" +describe my lack of pruning; but I am glad George Pembroke put +them on the "outer," not the inner, borders of my heart. + +In the tenth verse of Curzon's poem, allusion is made to Lady +Pembroke's conversation, which though not consciously pretentious, +provoked considerable merriment. She "stumbled upwards into +vacuity," to quote my dear friend Sir Walter Raleigh. + +There is no one left to-day at all like George Pembroke. His +combination of intellectual temperament, gregariousness, variety +of tastes--yachting, art, sport and literature--his beauty of +person and hospitality to foreigners made him the distinguished +centre of any company. His first present to me was Butcher and +Lang's translation of the Odyssey, in which he wrote on the fly- +leaf, "To Margot, who most reminds me of Homeric days, 1884," and +his last was his wedding present, a diamond dagger, which I always +wear close to my heart. + +Among the Souls, Milly Sutherland [Footnote: The Dowager Duchess +of Sutherland.], Lady Windsor [Footnote: The present Countess of +Plymouth.] and Lady Granby [Footnote: The present Duchess of +Rutland.] were the women whose looks I admired most. Lady Brownlow +[Footnote: Countess Brownlow, who died a few years ago.], +mentioned in verse eleven, was Lady Pembroke's handsome sister and +a famous Victorian beauty. Lady Granby--the Violet of verse nine, +Gladys Ripon [Footnote: My friend Lady de Grey.] and Lady Windsor +(alluded to as Lady Gay in verse twenty-eight), were all women of +arresting appearance: Lady Brownlow, a Roman coin; Violet Rutland, +a Burne-Jones Medusa; Gladys Ripon, a court lady; Gay Windsor, an +Italian Primitive and Milly Sutherland, a Scotch ballad. Betty +Montgomery was a brilliant girl and the only unmarried woman, +except Mrs. Lyttelton, among us. She was the daughter of Sir Henry +Ponsonby, Queen Victoria's famous private secretary, and one of +the strongest Liberals I ever met. Her sister Maggie, though +socially uncouth, had a touch of her father's genius; she said of +a court prelate to me one day at Windsor Castle: + +"There goes God's butler!" + +It was through Betty and Maggie Ponsonby that I first met my +beloved friend, Lady Desborough. Though not as good-looking as the +beauties I have catalogued, nor more intellectual than Lady Horner +or Lady Wemyss, Lady Desborough was the cleverest of us. Her +flavour was more delicate, her social sensibility finer; and she +added to chronic presence of mind undisguised effrontery. I do not +suppose she was ever unconscious in her life, but she had no self- +pity and no egotism. She was not an artist in any way: music, +singing, flowers, painting and colour left her cold. She was not a +game-player nor was she sporting and she never invested in parlour +tricks; yet she created more fun for other people than anybody. +She was a woman of genius, who, if subtly and accurately +described, either in her mode of life, her charm, wits or +character, would have made the fortune of any novelist. To an +outsider she might--like all over-agreeable femmes du monde--give +an impression of light metal, but this would be misleading. Etty +Desborough was fundamentally sound, and the truest friend that +ever lived. Possessed of social and moral sang-froid of a high +order, she was too elegant to fall into the trap of the candid +friend, but nevertheless she could, when asked, give both counsel +and judgment with the sympathy of a man and the wisdom of a god. +She was the first person that I sought and that I would still seek +if I were unhappy, because her genius lay in a penetrating +understanding of the human heart and a determination to redress +the balance of life's unhappiness. Etty and I attracted the same +people. She married Willy Grenfell,[Footnote: Lord Desborough of +Taplow Court.] a man to whom I was much attached and a British +gladiator capable of challenging the world in boating and boxing. + +Of their soldier sons, Julian and Billy, I cannot write. They and +their friends, Edward Horner, Charles Lister and Raymond Asquith +all fell in the war. They haunt my heart; I can see them in front +of me now, eternal sentinels of youth and manliness. + +In spite of a voracious appetite for enjoyment and an expert +capacity in entertaining, Etty Desborough was perfectly happy +either alone with her family or alone with her books and could +endure, with enviable patience, cold ugly country-seats and +fashionable people. I said of her when I first knew her that she +ought to have lived in the days of the great King's mistresses. I +would have gone to her if I were sad, but never if I were guilty. +Most of us have asked ourselves at one time or another whom we +would go to if we had done a wicked thing; and the interesting +part of this question is that in the answer you will get the best +possible indication of human nature. Many have said to me, "I +would go to So-and-so, because they would understand my temptation +and make allowances for me"; but the majority would choose the +confidante most competent to point to the way of escape. Etty +Desborough would be that confidante. + +She had neither father nor mother, but was brought up by two +prominent and distinguished members of the Souls, my life-long and +beloved friends, Lord and Lady Cowper of Panshanger, now, alas, +both dead. Etty had eternal youth and was alive to everything in +life except its irony. + +If for health or for any other reason I had been separated from my +children when they were young, I would as soon have confided them +to the love of Etty and Willy Desborough as to any of my friends. + +To illustrate the jealousy and friction which the Souls caused, I +must relate a conversational scrap I had at this time with Lady +Londonderry,[Footnote: The late Marchioness of Londonderry.] which +caused some talk among our critics. + +She was a beautiful woman, a little before my day, happy, +courageous and violent, with a mind which clung firmly to the +obvious. Though her nature was impulsive and kind, she was not +forgiving. One day she said to me with pride: + +"I am a good friend and a bad enemy. No kiss-and-make-friends +about me, my dear!" + +I have often wondered since, as I did then, what the difference +between a good and a bad enemy is. + +She was not so well endowed intellectually as her rival Lady de +Grey, but she had a stronger will and was of sounder temperament. + +There was nothing wistful, reflective or retiring about Lady +Londonderry. She was keen and vivid, but crude and impenitent. + +We were accused entre autres of being conceited and of talking +about books which we had not read, a habit which I have never had +the temerity to acquire. John Addington Symonds--an intimate +friend of mine--had brought out a book of essays, which were not +very good and caused no sensation. + +One night, after dinner, I was sitting in a circle of fashionable +men and women--none of them particularly intimate with me--when +Lady Londonderry opened the talk about books. Hardly knowing her, +I entered with an innocent zest into the conversation. I was taken +in by her mention of Symonds' Studies in Italy, and thought she +must be literary. Launching out upon style, I said there was a +good deal of rubbish written about it, but it was essential that +people should write simply. At this some one twitted me with our +pencil-game of "Styles" and asked me if I thought I should know +the author from hearing a casual passage read out aloud from one +of their books. I said that some writers would be easy to +recognise--such as Meredith, Carlyle, De Quincey or Browning--but +that when it came to others--men like Scott or Froude, for +instance--I should not be so sure of myself. At this there was an +outcry: Froude, having the finest style in the world, ought surely +to be easily recognised! I was quite ready to believe that some of +the company had made a complete study of Froude's style, but I had +not. I said that I could not be sure, because his writing was too +smooth and perfect, and that, when I read him, I felt as if I was +swallowing arrow-root. This shocked them profoundly and I added +that, unless I were to stumble across a horseman coming over a +hill, or something equally fascinating, I should not even be sure +of recognising Scott's style. This scandalised the company. Lady +Londonderry then asked me if I admired Symonds' writing. I told +her I did not, although I liked some of his books. She seemed to +think that this was a piece of swagger on my part and, after +disagreeing with a lofty shake of her head, said in a challenging +manner: + +"I should be curious to know, Miss Tennant, what you have read by +Symonds!" + +Feeling I was being taken on, I replied rather chillily: + +"Oh, the usual sort of thing!" + +Lady Londonderry, visibly irritated and with the confident air of +one who has a little surprise in store for the company, said: + +"Have you by any chance looked at Essays, Suggestive and +Speculative?" + +MARGOT: "Yes, I've read them all." + +LADY LONDONDERRY: "Really! Do you not approve of them?" + +MARGOT: "Approve? I don't know what you mean." LADY LONDONDERRY: +"Do you not think the writing beautiful ... the style, I mean?" + +MARGOT: "I think they are all very bad, but then I don't admire +Symonds' style." + +LADY LONDONDERRY: "I am afraid you have not read the book." + +This annoyed me; I saw the company were enchanted with their +spokeswoman, but I thought it unnecessarily rude and more than +foolish. + +I looked at her calmly and said: + +"I am afraid, Lady Londonderry, you have not read the preface. The +book is dedicated to me. Symonds was a friend of mine and I was +staying at Davos at the time he was writing those essays. He was +rash enough to ask me to read one of them in manuscript and write +whatever I thought upon the margin. This I did, but he was +offended by something I scribbled. I was so surprised at his +minding that I told him he was never to show me any of his +unpublished work again, at which he forgave me and dedicated the +book to me." + +After this flutter I was not taken on by fashionable ladies about +books. + +Lady Londonderry never belonged to the Souls, but her antagonist, +Lady de Grey, was one of its chief ornaments and my friend. She +was a luxurious woman of great beauty, with perfect manners and a +moderate sense of duty. She was the last word in refinement, +perception and charm. There was something septic in her nature and +I heard her say one day that the sound of the cuckoo made her feel +ill; but, although she was not lazy and seldom idle, she never +developed her intellectual powers or sustained herself by reading +or study of any kind. She had not the smallest sense of proportion +and, if anything went wrong in her entertainments--cold plates, a +flat souffle, or some one throwing her over for dinner--she became +almost impotent from agitation, only excusable if it had been some +great public disaster. She and Mr. Harry Higgins--an exceptionally +clever and devoted friend of mine--having revived the opera, +Bohemian society became her hobby; but a tenor in the country or a +dancer on the lawn are not really wanted; and, although she spent +endless time at Covent Garden and achieved considerable success, +restlessness devoured her. While receiving the adoration of a +small but influential circle, she appeared to me to have tried +everything to no purpose and, in spite of an experience which +queens and actresses, professionals and amateurs might well have +envied, she remained embarrassed by herself, fluid, brilliant and +uneasy. The personal nobility with which she worked her hospital +in the Great War years brought her peace. + +Frances Horner [Footnote: Lady Horner, of Mells, Frome.] was more +like a sister to me than any one outside my own family. I met her +when she was Miss Graham and I was fourteen. She was a leader in +what was called the high art William Morris School and one of the +few girls who ever had a salon in London. + +I was deeply impressed by her appearance, it was the fashion of +the day to wear the autumn desert in your hair and "soft shades" +of Liberty velveteen; but it was neither the unusualness of her +clothes nor the sight of Burne-Jones at her feet and Ruskin at her +elbow that struck me most, but what Charty's little boy, Tommy +Lister, called her "ghost eyes" and the nobility of her +countenance. + +There may be women as well endowed with heart, head, temper and +temperament as Frances Horner, but I have only met a few: Lady de +Vesci (whose niece, Cynthia, married our poet-son, Herbert), Lady +Betty Balfour[Footnote: Sister of the Earl of Lytton and wife of +Mr. Gerald Balfour.] and my daughter Elizabeth. With most women +the impulse to crab is greater than to praise and grandeur of +character is surprisingly lacking in them; but Lady Horner +comprises all that is best in my sex. + +Mary Wemyss was one of the most distinguished of the Souls and was +as wise as she was just, truthful, tactful, and generous. She +might have been a great influence, as indeed she was always a +great pleasure, but she was both physically and mentally badly +equipped for coping with life and spent and wasted more time than +was justifiable on plans which could have been done by any good +servant. It would not have mattered the endless discussion whether +the brougham fetching one part of the family from one station and +a bus fetching another part of it from another interfered with a +guest catching a five or a five-to-five train--which could or +could not be stopped--if one could have been quite sure that Mary +Wemyss needed her friend so much that another opportunity would be +given for an intimate interchange of confidences; but plan-weaving +blinds people to a true sense of proportion and my beloved Mary +never had enough time for any of us. She is the only woman I know +or have ever known without smallness or touchiness of any kind. +Her juste milieu, if a trifle becalmed, amounts to genius; and I +was--and still am--more interested in her moral, social and +intellectual opinions than in most of my friends'. Some years ago +I wrote this in my diary about her: + +"Mary is generally a day behind the fair and will only hear of my +death from the man behind the counter who is struggling to clinch +her over a collar for her chow." + +One of the less prominent of the Souls was my friend, Lionel +Tennyson.[Footnote: Brother of the present Lord Tennyson.] He was +the second son of the poet and was an official in the India +Office. He had an untidy appearance, a black beard and no manners. +He sang German beer-songs in a lusty voice and wrote good verses. + +He sent me many poems, but I think these two are the best. The +first was written to me on my twenty-first birthday, before the +Souls came into existence: + + What is a single flower when the world is white + with may? + What is a gift to one so rich, a smile to one so gay? + What is a thought to one so rich in the loving + thoughts of men? + How should I hope because I sigh that you will + sigh again? + Yet when you see my gift, you may + (Ma bayadere aux yeux de jais) + Think of me once to-day. + + Think of me as you will, dear girl, if you will let + me be + Somewhere enshrined within the fane of your pure + memory; + Think of your poet as of one who only thinks of + you, + That you ARE all his thought, that he were happy + if he knew-- + You DID receive his gift, and say + (Ma bayadere aux yeux de jais) + "He thinks of me to-day." + +And this is the second: + + She drew me from my cosy seat, + She drew me to her cruel feet, + She whispered, "Call me Sally!" + I lived upon her smile, her sigh, + Alas, you fool, I knew not I + Was only her pis-aller. + + The jade! she knew her business well, + She made each hour a heaven or hell, + For she could coax and rally; + She was SO loving, frank and kind, + That no suspicion crost my mind + That I was her pis-aller. + + My brother says "I told you so! + Her conduct was not comme il faut, + But strictly comme il fallait; + She swore that she was fond and true; + No doubt she was, poor girl, but you + Were only her pis-aller." + +He asked me what I would like him to give me for a birthday +present, and I said: + +"If you want to give me pleasure, take me down to your father's +country house for a Saturday to Monday." + +This Lionel arranged; and he and I went down to Aldworth, +Haslemere, together from London. + +While we were talking in the train, a distinguished old lady got +in. She wore an ample black satin skirt, small black satin +slippers in goloshes, a sable tippet and a large, picturesque lace +bonnet. She did not appear to be listening to our conversation, +because she was reading with an air of concentration; but, on +looking at her, I observed her eyes fixed upon me. I wore a +scarlet cloak trimmed with cock's feathers and a black, three- +cornered hat. When we arrived at our station, the old lady tipped +a porter to find out from my luggage who I was; and when she died +--several years later--she left me in her will one of my most +valuable jewels. This was Lady Margaret Beaumont; and I made both +her acquaintance and friendship before her death. + +Lady Tennyson was an invalid; and we were received on our arrival +by the poet. Tennyson was a magnificent creature to look at. He +had everything: height, figure, carriage, features and expression. +Added to this he had what George Meredith said of him to me, "the +feminine hint to perfection." He greeted me by saying: + +"Well, are you as clever and spurty as your sister Laura?" + +I had never heard the word "spurty" before, nor indeed have I +since. To answer this kind of frontal attack one has to be either +saucy or servile; so I said nothing memorable. We sat down to tea +and he asked me if I wanted him to dress for dinner, adding: + +"Your sister said of me, you know, that I was both untidy and +dirty." + +To which I replied: + +"Did you mind this?" + +TENNYSON: "I wondered if it was true. Do you think I'm dirty?" + +MARGOT: "You are very handsome." + +TENNYSON: "I can see by that remark that you think I am. Very well +then, I will dress for dinner. Have you read Jane Welsh Carlyle's +letters?" + +MARGOT: "Yes, I have, and I think them excellent. It seems a +pity," I added, with the commonplace that is apt to overcome one +in a first conversation with a man of eminence, "that they were +ever married; with any one but each other, they might have been +perfectly happy." + +TENNYSON: "I totally disagree with you. By any other arrangement +four people would have been unhappy instead of two." + +After this I went up to my room. The hours kept at Aldworth were +peculiar; we dined early and after dinner the poet went to bed. At +ten o'clock he came downstairs and, if asked, would read his +poetry to the company till past midnight. + +I dressed for dinner with great care that first night and, placing +myself next to him when he came down, I asked him to read out loud +to me. + +TENNYSON: "What do you want me to read?" + +MARGOT: "Maud." + +TENNYSON: "That was the poem I was cursed for writing! When it +came out no word was bad enough for me! I was a blackguard, a +ruffian and an atheist! You will live to have as great a contempt +for literary critics and the public as I have, my child!" + +While he was speaking, I found on the floor, among piles of books, +a small copy of Maud, a shilling volume, bound in blue paper. I +put it into his hands and, pulling the lamp nearer him, he began +to read. + +There is only one man--a poet also--who reads as my host did; and +that is my beloved friend, Professor Gilbert Murray. When I first +heard him at Oxford, I closed my eyes and felt as if the old poet +were with me again. + +Tennyson's reading had the lilt, the tenderness and the rhythm +that makes music in the soul. It was neither singing, nor +chanting, nor speaking, but a subtle mixture of the three; and the +effect upon me was one of haunting harmonies that left me +profoundly moved. + +He began, "Birds in the high Hall-garden," and, skipping the next +four sections, went on to, "I have led her home, my love, my only +friend," and ended with: + + There has fallen a splendid tear + From the passion-flower at the gate. + She is coming, my dove, my dear, + She is coming, my life, my fate; + The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;" + And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" + The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;" + And the lily whispers, "I wait." + + She is coming, my own, my sweet; + Were it ever so airy a tread, + My heart would hear her and beat, + Were it earth in an earthly bed; + My dust would hear her and beat, + Had I lain for a century dead; + Would start and tremble under her feet, + And blossom in purple and red. + +When he had finished, he pulled me on to his knee and said: + +"Many may have written as well as that, but nothing that ever +sounded so well!" + +I could not speak. + +He then told us that he had had an unfortunate experience with a +young lady to whom he was reading Maud. + +"She was sitting on my knee," he said, "as you are doing now, and +after reading, + + Birds in the high Hall-garden + When twilight was falling, + Maud, Maud, Maud, Maud, + They were crying and calling, + +I asked her what bird she thought I meant. She said, 'A +nightingale.' This made me so angry that I nearly flung her to the +ground: 'No, fool! ... Rook!' said I." + +I got up, feeling rather sorry for the young lady, but was so +afraid he was going to stop reading that I quickly opened The +Princess and put it into his hands, and he went on. + +I still possess the little Maud, bound in its blue paper cover, +out of which he read to us, with my name written in it by +Tennyson. + +The morning after my arrival I was invited by our host to go for a +walk with him, which flattered me very much; but after walking at +a great pace over rough ground for two hours I regretted my +vanity. Except my brother Glenconner I never met such an easy +mover. The most characteristic feature left on my mind of that +walk was Tennyson's appreciation of other poets. + +Writing of poets, I come to George Wyndham. [Footnote: The late +Right Hon. George Wyndham.] It would be superfluous to add +anything to what has already been published of him, but he was +among the best-looking and most lovable of my circle. + +He was a young man of nature endowed with even greater beauty than +his sister, Lady Glenconner, but with less of her literary talent. +Although his name will always be associated with the Irish Land +Act, he was more interested in literature than politics, and, with +a little self-discipline, might have been eminent in both. + +Mr. Harry Cust is the last of the Souls that I intend writing +about and was in some ways the rarest end the most brilliant of +them all. Some one who knew him well wrote truly of him after he +died: + +"He tossed off the cup of life without fear of it containing any +poison, but like many wilful men he was deficient in will-power." + +The first time I ever saw Harry Cust was in Grosvenor Square, +where he had come to see my sister Laura. A few weeks later I +found her making a sachet, which was an unusual occupation for +her, and she told me it was for "Mr. Cust," who was going to +Australia for his health. + +He remained abroad for over a year and, on the night of the +Jubilee, 1887, he walked into our house where we were having +supper. He had just returned from Australia, and was terribly +upset to hear that Laura was dead. + +Harry Cust had an untiring enthusiasm for life. At Eton he had +been captain of the school and he was a scholar of Trinity. He had +as fine a memory as Professor Churton Collins or my husband and an +unplumbed sea of knowledge, quoting with equal ease both poetry +and prose. He edited the Pall Mall Gazette brilliantly for several +years. With his youth, brains and looks, he might have done +anything in life; but he was fatally self-indulgent and success +with my sex damaged his public career. He was a fastidious critic +and a faithful friend, fearless, reckless and unforgettable. + +He wrote one poem, which appeared anonymously in the Oxford Book +of English Verse: + + Not unto us, O Lord, + Not unto us the rapture of the day, + The peace of night, or love's divine surprise, + High heart, high speech, high deeds 'mid + honouring eyes; + For at Thy word + All these are taken away. + + Not unto us, O Lord: + To us Thou givest the scorn, the scourge, the scar, + The ache of life, the loneliness of death, + The insufferable sufficiency of breath; + And with Thy sword + Thou piercest very far. + + Not unto us, O Lord: + Nay, Lord, but unto her be all things given-- + My light and life and earth and sky be blasted-- + But let not all that wealth of love be wasted: + Let Hell afford + The pavement of her Heaven! + +I print also a letter in verse sent to me on October 20th, 1887: + + I came in to-night, made as woful as worry can, + Heart like a turnip and head like a hurricane, + When lo! on my dull eyes there suddenly leaped a + Bright flash of your writing, du Herzensgeliebte; + And I found that the life I was thinking so leavable + Had still something in it made living conceivable; + And that, spite of the sores and the bores and the + flaws in it, + My own life's the better for small bits of yours in it; + And it's only to tell you just that that I write to + you, + And just for the pleasure of saying good night to + you: + For I've nothing to tell you and nothing to talk + about, + Save that I eat and I sleep and I walk about. + Since three days past does the indolent I bury + Myself in the British Museum Lib'ary, + Trying in writing to get in my hand a bit, + And reading Dutch books that I don't understand + a bit: + But to-day Lady Charty and sweet Mrs. Lucy em- + Broidered the dusk of the British Museum, + And made me so happy by talking and laughing on + That I loved them more than the frieze of the + Parthenon. + But I'm sleepy I know and don't know if I silly + ain't; + Dined to-night with your sisters, where Tommy + was brilliant; + And, while I the rest of the company deafened, I + Dallied awhile with your auntlet of seventy, + While one, Mr. Winsloe, a volume before him, + Regarded us all with a moody decorum. + No, I can't keep awake, and so, bowing and blessing + you, + And seeing and loving (while slowly undressing) + you, + Take your small hand and kiss, with a drowsed + benediction, it + Knowing, as you, I'm your ever affectionate + +HARRY C. C. + +I had another friend, James Kenneth Stephen, too pagan, wayward +and lonely to be available for the Souls, but a man of genius. One +afternoon he came to see me in Grosvenor Square and, being told by +the footman that I was riding in the Row, he asked for tea and, +while waiting for me wrote the following parody of Kipling and +left it on my writing-table with his card: + +P.S. THE MAN WHO WROTE IT. + +We all called him The Man who Wrote It. And we called It what the +man wrote, or IT for short--all of us that is, except The Girl +who Read It. She never called anything "It." She wasn't that sort +of girl, but she read It, which was a pity from the point of view +of The Man who Wrote It. + +The man is dead now. + +Dropped down a cud out beyond Karachi, and was brought home more +like broken meat in a basket. But that's another story. + +The girl read It, and told It, and forgot all about It, and in a +week It was all over the station. I heard it from Old Bill Buffles +at the club while we were smoking between a peg and a hot weather +dawn. + +J. K. S. + +I was delighted with this. Another time he wrote a parody of +Myers' "St. Paul" for me. I will only quote one verse out of the +eight: + + Lo! what the deuce I'm always saying "Lo!" for + God is aware and leaves me uninformed. + Lo! there is nothing left for me to go for, + Lo! there is naught inadequately formed. + +He ended by signing his name and writing: + + Souvenez-vous si les vers que je trace + Fussent parfois (je l'avoue!) l'argot, + Si vous trouvez un peu trop d'audace + On ose tout quand on se dit + "Margot." + +My dear friend J.K.S. was responsible for the aspiration +frequently quoted: + + When the Rudyards cease from Kipling + And the Haggards ride no more. + +Although I can hardly claim Symonds as a Soul, he was so much +interested in me and my friends that I must write a short account +of him. + +I was nursing my sister, Pauline Gordon Duff, when I first met +John Addington Symonds, in 1885, at Davos. + +I climbed up to Am Hof[Footnote: J. A. Symonds's country house.] +one afternoon with a letter of introduction, which was taken to +the family while I was shown into a wooden room full of charming +things. As no one came near me, I presumed every one was out, so I +settled down peacefully among the books, prepared to wait. In a +little time I heard a shuffle of slippered feet and some one +pausing at the open door. + +"Has he gone?" was the querulous question that came from behind +the screen. + +And in a moment the thin, curious face of John Addington Symonds +was peering at me round the corner. + +There was nothing for it but to answer: + +"No I am afraid she is still here!" + +Being the most courteous of men, he smiled and took my hand; and +we went up to his library together. + +Symonds and I became very great friends. + +After putting my sister to bed at 9.30, I climbed every night by +starlight up to Am Hof, where we talked and read out loud till one +and often two in the morning. I learnt more in those winter nights +at Davos than I had ever learnt in my life. We read The Republic +and all the Plato dialogues together; Swift, Voltaire, Browning, +Walt Whitman, Edgar Poe and Symonds' own Renaissance, besides +passages from every author and poet, which he would turn up +feverishly to illustrate what he wanted me to understand. + +I shall always think Lord Morley [Footnote: Viscount Morley of +Blackburn.] the best talker I ever heard and after him I would say +Symonds, Birrell and Bergson. George Meredith was too much of a +prima donna and was very deaf and uninterruptable when I knew him, +but he was amazingly good even then. Alfred Austin was a friend of +his and had just been made Poet Laureate by Lord Salisbury, when +my beloved friend Admiral Maxse took me down to the country to see +Meredith for the first time. Feeling more than usually stupid, I +said to him: + +"Well Mr. Meredith, I wonder what your friend Alfred Austin thinks +of his appointment?" + +Shaking his beautiful head he replied: + +"It is very hard to say what a bantam is thinking when it is +crowing." + +Symonds' conversation is described in Stevenson's essay on Talks +and Talkers, but no one could ever really give the fancy, the +epigram, the swiftness and earnestness with which he not only +expressed himself but engaged you in conversation. This and his +affection combined to make him an enchanting companion. + +The Swiss postmen and woodmen constantly joined us at midnight and +drank Italian wines out of beautiful glass which our host had +brought from Venice; and they were our only interruptions when +Mrs. Symonds and the handsome girls went to bed. I have many +memories of seeing our peasant friends off from Symonds' front +door, and standing by his side in the dark, listening to the crack +of their whips and their yodels yelled far down the snow roads +into the starry skies. + +When I first left him and returned to England, Mrs. Symonds told +me he sat up all night, filling a blank book with his own poems +and translations, which he posted to me in the early morning. We +corresponded till he died; and I have kept every letter that he +ever wrote to me. + +He was the first person who besought me to write. If only he were +alive now, I would show him this manuscript and, if any one could +make any thing of it by counsel, sympathy and encouragement; my +autobiography might become famous. + +"You have l'oreille juste" he would say, "and I value your +literary judgment." + +I will here insert some of his letters, beginning with the one he +sent down to our villa at Davos a propos of the essays over which +Lady Londonderry and I had our little breeze: + +I am at work upon a volume of essays in art and criticism, +puzzling to my brain and not easy to write. I think I shall ask +you to read them. + +I want an intelligent audience before I publish them. I want to +"try them on" somebody's mind--like a dress--to see how they fit. +Only you must promise to write observations and, most killing +remark of all, to say when the tedium of reading them begins to +overweigh the profit of my philosophy. + +I think you could help me. + +After the publication he wrote: + +I am sorry that the Essays I dedicated to you have been a failure +--as I think they have been--to judge by the opinions of the +Press. I wanted, when I wrote them, only to say the simple truth +of what I thought and felt in the very simplest language I could +find. + +What the critics say is that I have uttered truisms in the +baldest, least attractive diction. + +Here I find myself to be judged, and not unjustly. In the pursuit +of truth, I said what I had to say bluntly--and it seems I had +nothing but commonplaces to give forth. In the search for +sincerity of style, I reduced every proposition to its barest form +of language. And that abnegation of rhetoric has revealed the +nudity of my commonplaces. + +I know that I have no wand, that I cannot conjure, that I cannot +draw the ears of men to listen to my words. + +So, when I finally withdraw from further appeals to the public, as +I mean to do, I cannot pose as a Prospero who breaks his staff. I +am only a somewhat sturdy, highly nervous varlet in the sphere of +art, who has sought to wear the robe of the magician--and being +now disrobed, takes his place quietly where God appointed him, and +means to hold his tongue in future, since his proper function has +been shown him. + +Thus it is with me. And I should not, my dear friend, have +inflicted so much of myself upon you, if I had not, unluckily, and +in gross miscalculation of my powers, connected your name with the +book which proves my incompetence. + +Yes, the Master [Footnote: Dr. Jowett, Master of Balliol.] is +right: make as much of your life as you can: use it to the best +and noblest purpose: do not, when you are old and broken like me, +sit in the middle of the ruins of Carthage you have vainly +conquered, as I am doing now. + +Now good bye. Keep any of my letters which seem to you worth +keeping. This will make me write better. I keep a great many of +yours. You will never lose a warm corner in the centre of the +heart of your friend + +J. A. SYMONDS. + +P.S. Live well. Live happy. Do not forget me. I like to think of +you in plenitude of life and activity. I should not be sorry for +you if you broke your neck in the hunting field. But, like the +Master, I want you to make sure of the young, powerful life you +have--before the inevitable, dolorous, long, dark night draws +nigh. + +Later on, a propos of his translation of the Autobiography of +Benvenuto Cellini, he wrote: + +I am so glad that you like my Cellini. The book has been a +success; and I am pleased, though I am not interested in its sale. +The publisher paid me L210 for my work, which I thought very good +wages. + +MY DEAR MARGOT, + +I wrote to you in a great hurry yesterday, and with some bothering +thoughts in the background of my head. + +So I did not tell you how much I appreciated your critical insight +into the points of my Introduction to Cellini. I do not rate that +piece of writing quite as highly as you do. But you "spotted" the +best thing in it--the syllogism describing Cellini's state of mind +as to Bourbon's death. + +It is true, I think, what you say: that I have been getting more +nervous and less elaborate in style of late years. This is very +natural. One starts in life with sensuous susceptibilities to +beauty, with a strong feeling for colour and for melodious +cadence, and also with an impulsive enthusiastic way of expressing +oneself. This causes young work to seem decorated and laboured, +whereas it very often is really spontaneous and hasty, more +instructive and straightforward than the work of middle life. I +write now with much more trouble and more slowly, and with much +less interest in my subject than I used to do. This gives me more +command over the vehicle, language, than I used to have. I write +what pleases myself less, but what probably strikes other people +more. + +This is a long discourse; but not so much about myself as appears. +I was struck with your insight, and I wanted to tell you how I +analyse the change of style which you point out, and which +results, I think, from colder, more laborious, duller effort as +one grows in years. + +The artist ought never to be commanded by his subject, or his +vehicle of expression. But until he ceases to love both with a +blind passion, he will probably be so commanded. And then his +style will appear decorative, florid, mixed, unequal, laboured. It +is the sobriety of a satiated or blunted enthusiasm which makes +the literary artist. He ought to remember his dithyrambic moods, +but not to be subject to them any longer, nor to yearn after them. + +Do you know that I have only just now found the time, during my +long days and nights in bed with influenza and bronchitis, to read +Marie Bashkirtseff? (Did ever name so puzzling grow upon the +Ygdrasil of even Russian life?) + +By this time you must be quite tired of hearing from your friends +how much Marie Bashkirtseff reminds them of you. + +I cannot help it. I must say it once again. I am such a fossil +that I permit myself the most antediluvian remarks--if I think +they have a grain of truth in them. Of course, the dissimilarities +are quite as striking as the likenesses. No two leaves on one +linden are really the same. But you and she, detached from the +forest of life, seem to me like leaves plucked from the same sort +of tree. + +It is a very wonderful book. If only messieurs les romanciers +could photograph experience in their fiction as she has done in +some of her pages! The episode of Pachay, short as that is, is +masterly--above the reach of Balzac; how far above the laborious, +beetle--flight of Henry James! Above even George Meredith. It is +what James would give his right hand to do once. The episode of +Antonelli is very good, too, but not so exquisite as the other. + +There is something pathetic about both "Asolando" and "Demeter," +those shrivelled blossoms from the stout old laurels touched with +frost of winter and old age. But I find little to dwell upon in +either of them. Browning has more sap of life--Tennyson more ripe +and mellow mastery. Each is here in the main reproducing his +mannerism. + +I am writing to you, you see, just as if I had not been silent for +so long. I take you at your word, and expect Margot to be always +the same to a comrade. + +If you were only here! Keats said that "heard melodies are sweet, +but those unheard are sweeter." How false! + + Yes, thus it is: somewhere by me + Unheard, by me unfelt, unknown, + The laughing, rippling notes of thee + Are sounding still; while I alone + Am left to sit and sigh and say-- + Music unheard is sweet as they. + +This is no momentary mood, and no light bubble-breath of +improvisatory verse. It expresses what I often feel when, after a +long night's work, I light my candle and take a look before I go +to bed at your portrait in the corner of my stove. + +I have been labouring intensely at my autobiography. It is blocked +out, and certain parts of it are written for good. But a thing of +this sort ought to be a master's final piece of work--and it is +very exhausting to produce. + +AM HOF, DAVOS PLATZ, SWITZERLAND, Sept. 27th, 1891. + +MY DEAR MARGOT, + +I am sending you back your two typewritten records. They are both +very interesting, the one as autobiographical and a study of your +family, the other as a vivid and, I think, justly critical picture +of Gladstone. It will have a great literary value sometime. I do +not quite feel with Jowett, who told you, did he not? that you had +made him UNDERSTAND Gladstone. But I feel that you have offered an +extremely powerful and brilliant conception, which is impressive +and convincing because of your obvious sincerity and breadth of +view. The purely biographical and literary value of this bit of +work seems to me very great, and makes me keenly wish that you +would record all your interesting experiences, and your first-hand +studies of exceptional personalities in the same way. + +Gradually, by doing this, you would accumulate material of real +importance; much better than novels or stories, and more valuable +than the passionate utterances of personal emotion. + +Did I ever show you the record I privately printed of an evening +passed by me at Woolner, the sculptor's, when Gladstone met +Tennyson for the first time? If I had been able to enjoy more of +such incidents, I should also have made documents. But my +opportunities have been limited. For future historians, the +illuminative value of such writing will be incomparable. + +I suppose I must send the two pieces back to Glen. Which I will +do, together with this letter. Let me see what you write. I think +you have a very penetrative glimpse into character, which comes +from perfect disengagement and sympathy controlled by a critical +sense. The absence of egotism is a great point. + +When Symonds died I lost my best intellectual tutor as well as one +of my dearest friends. I wish I had taken his advice and seriously +tried to write years ago, but, except for a few magazine sketches, +I have never written a line for publication in my life. I have +only kept a careful and accurate diary, [Footnote: Out of all my +diaries I have hardly been able to quote fifty pages, for on re- +reading them I find they are not only full of Cabinet secrets but +jerky, disjointed and dangerously frank.] and here, in the +interests of my publishers and at the risk of being thought +egotistical, it is not inappropriate that I should publish the +following letters in connection with these diaries and my writing: + +21 CARLYLE MANSIONS, CHEYNE WALK, S.W. + +April 9th, 1915. + +MY DEAR MARGOT ASQUITH, + +By what felicity of divination were you inspired to send me a few +days ago that wonderful diary under its lock and key?--feeling so +rightly certain, I mean, of the peculiar degree and particular +PANG of interest that I should find in it? I don't wonder, indeed, +at your general presumption to that effect, but the mood, the +moment, and the resolution itself conspired together for me, and I +have absorbed every word of every page with the liveliest +appreciation, and I think I may say intelligence. I have read the +thing intimately, and I take off my hat to you as to the very +Balzac of diarists. It is full of life and force and colour, of a +remarkable instinct for getting close to your people and things +and for squeezing, in the case of the resolute portraits of +certain of your eminent characters, especially the last drop of +truth and sense out of them--at least as the originals affected +YOUR singularly searching vision. Happy, then, those who had, of +this essence, the fewest secrets or crooked lives to yield up to +you--for the more complicated and unimaginable some of them +appear, the more you seem to me to have caught and mastered them. +Then I have found myself hanging on your impression in each case +with the liveliest suspense and wonder, so thrillingly does the +expression keep abreast of it and really translate it. This and +your extraordinary fullness of opportunity, make of the record a +most valuable English document, a rare revelation of the human +inwardness of political life in this country, and a picture of +manners and personal characters as "creditable" on the whole (to +the country) as it is frank and acute. The beauty is that you +write with such authority, that you've seen so much and lived and +moved so much, and that having so the chance to observe and feel +and discriminate in the light of so much high pressure, you +haven't been in the least afraid, but have faced and assimilated +and represented for all you're worth. + +I have lived, you see, wholly out of the inner circle of political +life, and yet more or less in wondering sight, for years, of many +of its outer appearances, and in superficial contact--though this, +indeed, pretty anciently now--with various actors and figures, +standing off from them on my quite different ground and neither +able nor wanting to be of the craft of mystery (preferring, so to +speak, my own poor, private ones, such as they have been) and yet +with all sorts of unsatisfied curiosities and yearnings and +imaginings in your general, your fearful direction. Well, you take +me by the hand and lead me back and in, and still in, and make +things beautifully up to me--ALL my losses and misses and +exclusions and privation--and do it by having taken all the right +notes, apprehended all the right values and enjoyed all the right +reactions--meaning by the right ones, those that must have +ministered most to interest and emotion; those that I dimly made +you out as getting while I flattened my nose against the shop +window and you were there within, eating the tarts, shall I say, +or handing them over the counter? It's to-day as if you had taken +all the trouble for me and left me at last all the unearned +increment or fine psychological gain! I have hovered about two or +three of your distinguished persons a bit longingly (in the past); +but you open up the abysses, or such like, that I really missed, +and the torch you play over them is often luridly illuminating. I +find my experience, therefore, the experience of simply reading +you (you having had all t'other) veritably romantic. But I want so +to go on that I deplore your apparent arrest--Saint Simon is in +forty volumes--why should Margot be put in one? Your own portrait +is an extraordinarily patient and detached and touch-upon-touch +thing; but the book itself really constitutes an image of you by +its strength of feeling and living individual tone. An admirable +portrait of a lady, with no end of finish and style, is thereby +projected, and if I don't stop now, I shall be calling it a +regular masterpiece. Please believe how truly touched I am by your +confidence in your faithful, though old, friend, + +HENRY JAMES. + +My dear and distinguished friend Lord Morley sent me the following +letter of the 15th of September, 1919, and it was in consequence +of this letter that, two months afterwards, on November the 11th, +1919, I began to write this book: + +FLOWERMEAD, PRINCES ROAD, WIMBLEDON PARK, S.W., SEPTEMBER 15TH, +1919. + +DEAR MRS. ASQUITH, + +Your kindest of letters gave me uncommon pleasure, both personal +and literary. Personal, because I like to know that we are still +affectionate friends, as we have been for such long, important and +trying years. Literary--because it is a brilliant example of that +character-writing in which the French so indisputably beat us. If +you like, you can be as keen and brilliant and penetrating as +Madame de Sevigne or the best of them, and if I were a publisher, +I would tempt you by high emoluments and certainty of fame. You +ask me to leave you a book when I depart this life. If I were your +generous well-wisher, I should not leave, but give you, my rather +full collection of French Memoirs now while I am alive. Well, I am +in very truth your best well-wisher, but incline to bequeath my +modern library to a public body of female ladies, if you pardon +that odd and inelegant expression. I have nothing good or +interesting to tell you of myself. My strength will stand no tax +upon it. + +The bequest from my old friend [Footnote: Andrew Carnegie.] in +America was a pleasant refresher, and it touched me, considering +how different we were in training, character, tastes, temperament. +I was first introduced to him with commendation by Mr. Arnold--a +curious trio, wasn't it? He thought, and was proud of it, that he, +A. C., introduced M. A. and me to the United States. + +I watch events and men here pretty vigilantly, with what good and +hopeful spirits you can imagine. When you return do pay me a +visit. There's nobody who would be such a tonic to an +octogenarian. + +Always, always, your affectionate friend, + +J. M. + +When I had been wrestling with this autobiography for two months I +wrote and told John Morley of my venture, and this is his reply: + +FLOWERMEAD, PRINCES ROAD, WIMBLEDON PARK, S.W. (JAN., 1920). + +DEAR MRS. ASQUITH, + +A bird in the air had already whispered the matter of your +literary venture, and I neither had nor have any doubt at all that +the publisher knew very well what he was about. The book will be +bright in real knowledge of the world; rich in points of life; +sympathetic with human nature, which in strength and weakness is +never petty or small. + +Be sure to TRUST YOURSELF; and don't worry about critics. You need +no words to tell you how warmly I am interested in your great +design. PERSEVERE. + +How kind to bid me to your royal [Footnote: I invited him to meet +the Prince of Wales.] meal. But I am too old for company that +would be so new, so don't take it amiss, my best of friends, if I +ask to be bidden when I should see more of YOU. You don't know how +dull a man, once lively, can degenerate into being. + +Your always affectionate and grateful + +J. MORLEY. + +To return to my triumphant youth: I will end this chapter with a +note which my friend, Lady Frances Balfour--one of the few women +of outstanding intellect that I have known--sent me from her +father, the late Duke of Argyll, the wonderful orator of whom it +was said that he was like a cannon being fired off by a canary. + +Frances asked me to meet him at a small dinner and placed me next +to him. In the course of our conversation, he quoted these words +that he had heard in a sermon preached by Dr. Caird: + +"Oh! for the time when Church and State shall no longer be the +watchword of opposing hosts, when every man shall be a priest and +every priest shall be a king, as priest clothed with +righteousness, as king with power!" + +I made him write them down for me, and we discussed religion, +preachers and politics at some length before I went home. + +The next morning he wrote to his daughter: + +ARGYLL LODGE, KENSINGTON. + +DEAR FRANCES, + +How dare you ask me to meet a syren. + +Your affectionate, + +A. + + + + + +CHAPTER II + +CHARACTER SKETCH OF MARGOT--PLANS TO START A MAGAZINE--MEETS +MASTER OF BALLIOL; JOWETT'S ORTHODOXY; HIS INTEREST IN AND +INFLUENCE OVER MARGOT--ROSE IN "ROBERT ELSMERE" IDENTIFIED AS +MARGOT--JOWETT'S OPINION OF NEWMAN--JOWETT ADVISES MARGOT TO +MARRY--HUXLEY'S BLASPHEMY + + +I shall open this chapter of my autobiography with a character- +sketch of myself, written at Glen in one of our pencil-games in +January, 1888. Nearly every one in the room guessed that I was the +subject, but opinions differed as to the authorship. Some thought +that our dear and clever friend, Godfrey Webb, had written it as a +sort of joke. + +"In appearance she was small, with rapid, nervous movements; +energetic, never wholly ungraceful, but inclined to be restless. +Her face did not betray the intelligence she possessed, as her +eyes, though clear and well-shaped, were too close together. Her +hawky nose was bent over a short upper lip and meaningless mouth. +The chin showed more definite character than her other features, +being large, bony and prominent, and she had curly, pretty hair, +growing well on a finely-cut forehead; the ensemble healthy and +mobile; in manner easy, unself-conscious, emphatic, inclined to be +noisy from over-keenness and perfectly self-possessed. +Conversation graphic and exaggerated, eager and concentrated, with +a natural gift of expression. Her honesty more a peculiarity than +a virtue. Decision more of instinct than of reason; a disengaged +mind wholly unfettered by prejudice. Very observant and a fine +judge of her fellow-creatures, finding all interesting and worthy +of her speculation. She was not easily depressed by antagonistic +circumstances or social situations hostile to herself--on the +contrary, her spirit rose in all losing games. She was assisted in +this by having no personal vanity, the highest vitality and great +self-confidence. She was self-indulgent, though not selfish, and +had not enough self-control for her passion and impetuosity; it +was owing more to dash and grit than to any foresight that she +kept out of difficulties. She distrusted the dried-up advice of +many people, who prefer coining evil to publishing good. She was +lacking in awe, and no respecter of persons; loving old people +because she never felt they were old. Warm-hearted, and with much +power of devotion, thinking no trouble too great to take for those +you love, and agreeing with Dr. Johnson that friendships should be +kept in constant repair. Too many interests and too many-sided. +Fond of people, animals, books, sport, music, art and exercise. +More Bohemian than exclusive and with a certain power of investing +acquaintances and even bores with interest. Passionate love of +Nature. Lacking in devotional, practising religion; otherwise +sensitively religious. Sensible; not easily influenced for good or +evil. Jealous, keen and faithful in affection. Great want of +plodding perseverance, doing many things with promise and nothing +well. A fine ear for music: no execution; a good eye for drawing: +no knowledge or practice in perspective; more critical than +constructive. Very cool and decided with horses. Good nerve, good +whip and a fine rider. Intellectually self-made, ambitious, +independent and self-willed. Fond of admiration and love from both +men and women, and able to give it." + +I sent this to Dr. Jowett with another character-sketch of +Gladstone. After reading them, he wrote me this letter: + +BALL. COLL. Oct. 23rd, 1890. + +MY DEAR MARGOT, + +I return the book [Footnote: A commonplace book with a few written +sketches of people in it.] which you entrusted to me: I was very +much interested by it. The sketch of Gladstone is excellent. Pray +write some more of it some time: I understand him better after +reading it. + +The young lady's portrait of herself is quite truthful and not at +all flattered: shall I add a trait or two? "She is very sincere +and extremely clever; indeed, her cleverness almost amounts to +genius. She might be a distinguished authoress if she would--but +she wastes her time and her gifts scampering about the world and +going from one country house to another in a manner not pleasant +to look back upon and still less pleasant to think of twenty years +hence, when youth will have made itself wings and fled away." + +If you know her, will you tell her with my love, that I do not +like to offer her any more advice, but I wish that she would take +counsel with herself. She has made a great position, though +slippery and dangerous: will she not add to this a noble and +simple life which can alone give a true value to it? The higher we +rise, the more self-discipline, self-control and economy is +required of us. It is a hard thing to be in the world but not of +it; to be outwardly much like other people and yet to be +cherishing an ideal which extends over the whole of life and +beyond; to have a natural love for every one, especially for the +poor; to get rid, not of wit or good humour, but of frivolity and +excitement; to live "selfless" according to the Will of God and +not after the fashions and opinions of men and women. + +Stimulated by this and the encouragement of Lionel Tennyson--a new +friend--I was anxious to start a newspaper. When I was a little +girl at Glen, there had been a schoolroom paper, called "The Glen +Gossip: The Tennant Tatler, or The Peeblesshire Prattler." I +believe my brother Eddy wrote the wittiest verses in it; but I was +too young to remember much about it or to contribute anything. I +had many distinguished friends by that time, all of whom had +promised to write for me. The idea was four or five numbers to be +illustrated by my sister Lucy Graham Smith, and a brilliant +letter-press, but, in spite of much discussion among ourselves, it +came to nothing. I have always regretted this, as, looking at the +names of the contributors and the programme for the first number, +I think it might have been a success. The title of the paper gave +us infinite trouble. We ended by adopting a suggestion of my own, +and our new venture was to have been called "To-morrow." This is +the list of people who promised to write for me, and the names +they suggested for the paper: + +Lord and Lady Pembroke Sympathetic Ink. + The Idle Pen. + The Mail. + The Kite. + Blue Ink. + +Mr. A. Lyttelton The Hen. + The Chick. + +Mr. Knowles The Butterfly. +Mr. A. J. Balfour The New Eve. + Anonymous. + Mrs. Grundy. + +Mr. Oscar Wilde The Life Improver. + Mrs. Grundy's Daughter. + +Lady Ribblesdale Jane. + Psyche. + The Mask. + +Margot Tennant The Mangle. + Eve. + Dolly Varden. + To-morrow. + +Mr. Webb The Petticoat. + +Mrs. Horner She. + +Miss Mary Leslie The Sphinx. + Eglantine. + Blue Veil. + Pinafore. + +Sir A. West The Spinnet. + The Spinning-Wheel. + +Mr. J. A. Symonds Muses and Graces. + Causeries en peignoir. + Woman's Wit and Humour. + +The contributors on our staff were to have been Laurence Oliphant, +J. K. Stephen, Mr. Wilfrid Blunt, Hon. George Curzon, George +Wyndham, Godfrey Webb, Doll Liddell, Harry Cust, Mr. Knowles (the +editor of the Nineteenth Century), the Hon. A. Lyttelton, Mr. A. +J. Balfour, Oscar Wilde, Lord and Lady Ribblesdale, Mrs. (now +Lady) Horner, Sir Algernon West, Lady Frances Balfour, Lord and +Lady Pembroke, Miss Betty Ponsonby (the present Mrs. Montgomery), +John Addington Symonds, Dr. Jowett (the Master of Balliol), M. +Coquelin, Sir Henry Irving, Miss Ellen Terry, Sir Edward Burne- +Jones, Mr. George Russell, Mrs. Singleton (alias Violet Fane, +afterwards Lady Currie), Lady de Grey, Lady Constance Leslie and +the Hon. Lionel Tennyson. + +Our programme for the first number was to have been the following: + +TO-MORROW + +Leader Persons and Politics Margot Tennant. + +The Social Zodiac Rise and fall of + Professional Beauties Lady de Grey. + +Occasional Articles The Green-eyed Violet Fane (nom- + Monster de-plume of + Mrs. Singleton). + +Occasional Notes Foreign and Colonial + Gossip Harry Cust. + +Men and Women Character Sketch Margot Tennant. + +Story Oscar Wilde. + +Poem Godfrey Webb. + +Letters to Men George Wyndham. + +Books Reviewed John Addington + Symonds. + +Conversations Miss Ponsonby. + +This is what I wrote for the first number: + +"PERSONS AND POLITICS + +"In Politics the common opinion is that measures are the important +thing, and that men are merely the instruments which each +generation produces, equal or unequal to the accomplishment of +them. + +"This is a mistake. The majority of mankind desire nothing so much +as to be led. They have no opinions of their own, and, half from +caution, half from laziness, are willing to leave the +responsibility to any stronger person. It is the personality of +the man which makes the masses turn to him, gives influence to his +ideas while he lives, and causes him to be remembered after both +he and his work are dead. From the time of Moses downwards, +history abounds in such examples. In the present century Napoleon +and Gladstone have perhaps impressed themselves most dramatically +on the public mind, and, in a lesser degree, Disraeli and Parnell. +The greatest men in the past have been superior to their age and +associated themselves with its glory only in so far as they have +contributed to it. But in these days the movement of time is too +rapid for us to recognise such a man: under modern conditions he +must be superior, not so much to his age, as to the men of his +age, and absorb what glory he can in his own personality. + +"The Code Napoleon remains, but, beyond this, hardly one of +Napoleon's great achievements survives as a living embodiment of +his genius. Never was so vast a fabric so quickly created and so +quickly dissolved. The moment the individual was caught and +removed, the bewitched French world returned to itself; and the +fame of the army and the prestige of France were as mere echoes of +retreating thunder. Dead as are the results of Bonaparte's +measures and actions, no one would question the permanent vitality +of his name. It conjures up an image in the dullest brain; and +among all historical celebrities he is the one whom most of us +would like to have met. + +"The Home Rule question, which has long distorted the public +judgment and looms large at the present political moment, +admirably illustrates the power of personality. Its importance has +been exaggerated; the grant of Home Rule will not save Ireland; +its refusal will not shame England. Its swollen proportions are +wholly due to the passionate personal feelings which Mr. Gladstone +alone among living statemen inspires. 'He is so powerful that his +thoughts are nearly acts,' as some one has written of him; and at +an age when most men would be wheeled into the chimney-corner, he +is at the head of a precarious majority and still retains enough +force to compel its undivided support. + +"Mr. Chamberlain's power springs from the concentration of a +nature which is singularly free from complexity. The range of his +mind is narrow, but up to its horizon the whole is illuminated by +the same strong and rather garish light. The absoluteness of his +convictions is never shaded or softened by any play of imagination +or sympathetic insight. It is not in virtue of any exceptionally +fine or attractive quality, either of intellect or of character, +that Mr. Chamberlain has become a dominant figure. Strength of +will, directness of purpose, an aggressive and contagious belief +in himself: these--which are the notes of a compelling +individuality--made him what he is. On the other hand, culture, +intellectual versatility, sound and practised judgment, which was +tried and rarely found wanting in delicate and even dangerous +situations, did not suffice in the case of Mr. Matthews to redeem +the shortcomings of a diffuse and ineffective personality. + +"In a different way, Mr. Goschen's remarkable endowments are +neutralised by the same limitations. He has infinite ingenuity, +but he can neither initiate nor propel; an intrepid debater in +council and in action, he is prey to an invincible indecision. + +"If the fortunes of a Government depend not so much on its +measures as upon the character of the men who compose it, the new +Ministry starts with every chance of success. + +"Lord Rosebery is one of our few statesmen whose individuality is +distinctly recognised by the public, both at home and abroad. + +"Lord Spencer, without a trace of genius, is a person. Sir W. +Harcourt, the most brilliant and witty of them all, is, perhaps, +not more than a life-like imitation of a strong man. Mr. John +Morley has conviction, courage and tenacity; but an over-delicacy +of nervous organisation and a certain lack of animal spirits +disqualify him from being a leader of men. + +"It is premature to criticise the new members of the Cabinet, of +whom the most conspicuous is Mr. Asquith. Beyond and above his +abilities and eloquence, there is in him much quiet force and a +certain vein of scornful austerity. His supreme contempt for the +superficial and his independence of mind might take him far. + +"The future will not disclose its secrets, but personality still +governs the world, and the avenue is open to the man, wherever he +may be found, who can control and will not be controlled by +fashions of opinion and the shifting movement of causes and +cries." + +My article is not at all good, but I put it in this autobiography +merely as a political prophecy. + +To be imitative and uninfluenceable--although a common +combination--is a bad one. I am not tempted to be imitative +except, I hope, in the better sense of the word, but I regret to +own that I am not very influenceable either. + +Jowett (the Master of Balliol in 1888-1889), my doctor, Sir John +Williams (of Aberystwyth), my son Anthony and old Lady Wemyss (the +mother of the present Earl) had more influence over me than any +other individuals in the world. + +The late Countess of Wemyss, who died in 1896, was a great +character without being a character-part. She told me that she +frightened people, which distressed her. As I am not easily +frightened, I was puzzled by this. After thinking it over, I was +convinced that it was because she had a hard nut to crack within +herself: she possessed a jealous, passionate, youthful +temperament, a formidable standard of right and wrong, a +distinguished and rather stern accueil, a low, slow utterance and +terrifying sincerity. She was the kind of person I had dreamt of +meeting and never knew that God had made. She once told me that I +was the best friend man, woman or child could ever have. After +this wonderful compliment, we formed a deep attachment, which +lasted until her death. She had a unique power of devotion and +fundamental humbleness. I kept every letter she ever wrote to me. + +When we left Downing Street in ten days--after being there for +over nine years--and had not a roof to cover our heads, our new +friends came to the rescue. I must add that many of the old ones +had no room for us and some were living in the country. Lady +Crewe[Footnote: The Marchioness of Crewe.]--young enough to be my +daughter, and a woman of rare honesty of purpose and clearness of +head--took our son Cyril in at Crewe House. Lady Granard[Footnote: +The Countess of Granard.] put up my husband; Mrs. Cavendish- +Bentinck--Lady Granard's aunt and one of God's own--befriended my +daughter Elizabeth; Mrs. George Keppel[Footnote: The Hon. Mrs. +Keppel.] always large-hearted and kind--gave me a whole floor of +her house in Grosvenor Street to live in, for as many months as I +liked, and Mrs. McKenna [Footnote: Mrs. McKenna, the daughter of +Lady Jekyll, and niece of Lady Horner.] took in my son Anthony. No +one has had such wonderful friends as I have had, but no one has +suffered more at discovering the instability of human beings and +how little power to love many people possess. + +Few men and women surrender their wills; and it is considered +lowering to their dignity to own that they are in the wrong. I +never get over my amazement at this kind of self-value, it passes +all my comprehension. It is vanity and this fundamental lack of +humbleness that is the bed-rock of nearly every quarrel. + +It was through my beloved Lady Wemyss that I first met the Master +of Balliol. One evening in 1888, after the men had come in from +shooting, we were having tea in the large marble hall at Gosford. +[Footnote: Gosford is the Earl of Wemyss' country place and is +situated between Edinburgh and North Berwick.] I generally wore an +accordion skirt at tea, as Lord Wemyss liked me to dance to him. +Some one was playing the piano and I was improvising in and out of +the chairs, when, in the act of making a final curtsey, I caught +my foot in my skirt and fell at the feet of an old clergyman +seated in the window. As I got up, a loud "Damn!" resounded +through the room. Recovering my presence of mind, I said, looking +up: + +"You are a clergyman and I am afraid I have shocked you!" + +"Not at all," he replied. "I hope you will go on; I like your +dancing extremely." + +I provoked much amusement by asking the family afterwards if the +parson whose presence I had failed to notice was their minister at +Aberlady. I then learnt that he was the famous Dr. Benjamin +Jowett, Master of Balliol. + +Before telling how my friendship with the Master developed, I +shall go back to the events in Oxford which gave him his insight +into human beings and caused him much quiet suffering. + +In 1852 the death of Dr. Jenkyns caused the Mastership at Balliol +to become vacant. Jowett's fame as a tutor was great, but with it +there had spread a suspicion of "rationalism." Persons whispered +that the great tutor was tainted with German views. This reacted +unduly upon his colleagues; and, when the election came, he was +rejected by a single vote. His disappointment was deep, but he +threw himself more than ever into his work. He told me that a +favourite passage of his in Marcus Aurelius--"Be always doing +something serviceable to mankind and let this constant generosity +be your only pleasure, not forgetting a due regard to God"--had +been of great help to him at that time. + +The lectures which his pupils cared most about were those on Plato +and St. Paul; both as tutor and examiner he may be said to have +stimulated the study of Plato in Oxford: he made it a rival to +that of Aristotle. + +"Aristotle is dead," he would say, "but Plato is alive." + +Hitherto he had published little--an anonymous essay on Pascal and +a few literary articles--but under the stimulus of disappointment +he finished his share of the edition of St. Paul's Epistles, which +had been undertaken in conjunction with Arthur Stanley. Both +produced their books in 1855; but while Stanley's Corinthians +evoked languid interest, Jowett's Galatians, Thessalonians and +Romans provoked a clamour among his friends and enemies. About +that time he was appointed to the Oxford Greek Chair, which +pleased him much; but his delight was rather dashed by a hostile +article in the Quarterly Review, abusing him and his religious +writings. The Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Cotton, required from him a +fresh signature of the Articles of the Church of England. At the +interview, when addressed by two men--one pompously explaining +that it was a necessary act if he was to retain his cloth and the +other apologising for inflicting a humiliation upon him--he merely +said: + +"Give me the pen." + +His essay on The Interpretation of Scripture, which came out in +1860 in the famous volume, Essays and Reviews, increased the cry +of heterodoxy against him; and the Canons of Christ Church, +including Dr. Pusey, persisted in withholding from him an extra +salary, without which the endowment of the Greek Chair was worth +L40. This scandal was not removed till 1864, after he had been +excluded from the university pulpit. He continued working hard at +his translation of the whole of Plato; he had already published +notes on the Republic and analyses of the dialogue. This took up +all his time till 1878, when he became Master of Balliol. + +The worst of the Essays and Reviews controversy was that it did an +injustice to Jowett's reputation. For years people thought that he +was a great heresiarch presiding over a college of infidels and +heretics. His impeached article on The Interpretation of Scripture +might to-day be published by any clergyman. His crime lay in +saying that the Bible should be criticised like other books. + +In his introduction to the Republic of Plato he expresses the same +thought: + +A Greek in the age of Plato attached no importance to the question +whether his religion was an historical fact. ...Men only began to +suspect that the narratives of Homer and Hesiod were fictions when +they recognised them to be immoral. And so in all religions: the +consideration of their morality comes first, afterwards the truth +of the documents in which they are recorded, or of the events, +natural or supernatural, which are told of them. But in modern +times, and in Protestant countries perhaps more than Catholic, we +have been too much inclined to identify the historical with the +moral; and some have refused to believe in religion at all, unless +a superhuman accuracy was discerned in every part of the record. +The facts of an ancient or religious history are amongst the most +important of all facts, but they are frequently uncertain, and we +only learn the true lesson which is to be gathered from them when +we place ourselves above them. + +Some one writes in the Literary Supplement of the Times to-day, +11th December, 1919: + +"An almost animal indifference to mental refinement characterises +our great public." + +This is quite true, and presumably was true in Jowett's day, not +only of the great public but of the Established Church. + +Catherine Marsh, the author of The Life of Hedley Vicars, wrote to +Jowett assuring him of her complete belief in the sincerity of his +religious views and expressing indignation that he should have had +to sign the thirty-nine Articles again. I give his reply. The +postscript is characteristic of his kindliness, gentle temper and +practical wisdom. + +MARCH 16TH, 1864. DEAR MADAM, + +Accept my best thanks for your kind letter, and for the books you +have been so good as to send me. + +I certainly hope (though conscious of how little I am able to do) +that I shall devote my life to the service of God, and of the +youths of Oxford, whom I desire to regard as a trust which He has +given me. But I am afraid, if I may judge from the tenour of your +letter, that I should not express myself altogether as you do on +religious subjects. Perhaps the difference may be more than one of +words. I will not, therefore, enter further into the grave +question suggested by you, except to say that I am sure I shall be +the better for your kind wishes and reading your books. + +The recent matter of Oxford is of no real consequence, and is not +worth speaking about, though I am very grately to you and others +for feeling "indignant" at the refusal. + +With sincere respect for your labours, Believe me, dear Madam, + +Most truly yours, + +B. JOWETT. + +P.S.--I have read your letter again! I think that I ought to tell +you that, unless you had been a complete stranger, you would not +have had so good an opinion of me. I feel the kindness of your +letter, but at the same time, if I believed what you say of me, I +should soon become a "very complete rascal." Any letter like +yours, which is written with such earnestness, and in a time of +illness, is a serious call to think about religion. I do not +intend to neglect this because I am not inclined to use the same +language. + +When Jowett became Master, his pupils and friends gathered round +him and overcame the Church chatter. He was the hardest-working +tutor, Vice-Chancellor and Master that Oxford ever had. Balliol, +under his regime, grew in numbers and produced more scholars, more +thinkers and more political men of note than any other college in +the university. He had authority and a unique prestige. It was +said of Dr. Whewell of Trinity that "knowledge was his forte and +omniscience his foible"; the same might have been said of the +Master and was expressed in a college epigram, written by an +undergraduate. After Jowett's death I cut the following from an +Oxford magazine: + +The author of a famous and often misquoted verse upon Professor +Jowett has written me a note upon his lines which may be +appropriately inserted here. "Several versions," he writes, "have +appeared lately, and my vanity does not consider them +improvements. The lines were written: + + 'First come I, my name is Jowett, + There's no knowledge but I know it. + I am Master of this College, + What I don't know--is not knowledge.' + +"The 'First come I' referred to its being a masque of the College +in which fellows, scholars, etc., appeared in order. The short, +disconnected sentences were intentional, as being characteristic. +Such a line as 'All that can be known I know it' (which some +newspapers substituted for line 2) would express a rather vulgar, +Whewellian foible of omniscience, which was quite foreign to the +Master's nature; the line as originally written was intended to +express the rather sad, brooding manner the Master had of giving +his oracles, as though he were a spectator of all time and +existence, and had penetrated into the mystery of things. Of +course, the last line expressed, with necessary exaggeration, +what, as a fact, was his attitude to certain subjects in which he +refused to be interested, such as modern German metaphysics, +philology, and Greek inscriptions." + +When I met the Master in 1887, I was young and he was old; but, +whether from insolence or insight, I never felt this difference. I +do not think I was a good judge of age, as I have always liked +older people than myself; and I imagine it was because of this +unconsciousness that we became such wonderful friends. Jowett was +younger than half the young people I know now and we understood +each other perfectly. If I am hasty in making friends and skip the +preface, I always read it afterwards. + +A good deal of controversy has arisen over the Master's claim to +greatness by some of the younger generation. It is not denied that +Jowett was a man of influence. Men as different as Huxley, +Symonds, Lord Lansdowne, Lord Bowen, Lord Milner, Sir Robert +Morier and others have told me in reverent and affectionate terms +how much they owed to him and to his influence. It is not denied +that he was a kind man; infinitely generous, considerate and good +about money. It may be denied that he was a fine scholar of the +first rank, such as Munro or Jebb, although no one denies his +contributions to scholarship; but the real question remains: was +he a great man? There are big men, men of intellect, intellectual +men, men of talent and men of action; but the great man is +difficult to find, and it needs--apart from discernment--a +certain greatness to find him. The Almighty is a wonderful +handicapper: He will not give us everything. I have never met a +woman of supreme beauty with more than a mediocre intellect, by +which I do not mean intelligence. There may be some, but I am only +writing my own life, and I have not met them. A person of +magnetism, temperament and quick intelligence may have neither +intellect nor character. I have known one man whose genius lay in +his rapid and sensitive understanding, real wit, amazing charm and +apparent candour, But whose meanness, ingratitude and instability +injured everything he touched. You can only discover ingratitude +or instability after years of experience, and few of us, I am glad +to think, ever suspect meanness in our fellow-creatures; the +discovery is as painful when you find it as the discovery of a +worm in the heart of a rose. A man may have a fine character and +be taciturn, stubborn and stupid. Another may be brilliant, sunny +and generous, but self-indulgent, heartless and a liar. There is +no contradiction I have not met with in men and women: the rarest +combination is to find fundamental humbleness, freedom from self, +intrepid courage and the power to love; when you come upon these, +you may be quite sure that you are in the presence of greatness. +Human beings are made up of a good many pieces. Nature, character, +intellect and temperament: roughly speaking, these headings cover +every one. The men and women whom I have loved best have been +those whose natures were rich and sweet; but, alas, with a few +exceptions, all of them have had gimcrack characters; and the +qualities which I have loved in them have been ultimately +submerged by self-indulgence. + +The present Archbishop of Canterbury is one of these exceptions: +he has a sweet and rich nature, a fine temper and is quite +unspoilable. I have only one criticism to make of Randall +Davidson: he has too much moderation for his intellect; but I +daresay he would not have steered the Church through so many +shallows if he had not had this attribute. I have known him since +I was ten (he christened, confirmed, married and buried us all); +and his faith in such qualities of head and heart as I possess has +never wavered. He reminds me of Jowett in the soundness of his +nature and his complete absence of vanity, although no two men +were ever less alike. The first element of greatness is +fundamental humbleness (this should not be confused with +servility); the second is freedom from self; the third is intrepid +courage, which, taken in its widest interpretation, generally goes +with truth; and the fourth, the power to love, although I have put +it last, is the rarest. If these go to the makings of a great man, +Jowett possessed them all. He might have mocked at the confined +comprehension of Oxford and exposed the arrogance, vanity and +conventionality of the Church; intellectual scorn and even +bitterness might have come to him; but, with infinite patience and +imperturbable serenity, he preserved his faith in his fellow- +creatures. + +"There was in him a simple trust in the word of other men that won +for him a devotion and service which discipline could never have +evoked." [Footnote:] I read these words in an obituary notice the +other day and thought how much I should like to have had them +written of me. Whether his criticisms of the Bible fluttered the +faith of the flappers in Oxford, or whether his long silences made +the undergraduates more stupid than they would otherwise have +been, I care little: I only know that he was what I call great and +that he had an ennobling influence over my life. He was +apprehensive of my social reputation; and in our correspondence, +which started directly we parted at Gosford, he constantly gave me +wise advice. He was extremely simple-minded and had a pathetic +belief in the fine manners, high tone, wide education and lofty +example of the British aristocracy. It shocked him that I did not +share it; I felt his warnings much as a duck swimming might feel +the cluckings of a hen on the bank; nevertheless, I loved his +exhortations. In one of his letters he begs me to give up the idea +of shooting bears with the Prince of Wales in Russia. It was the +first I had heard of it! In another of his letters to me he ended +thus: + +But I must not bore you with good advice. Child, why don't you +make a better use of your noble gifts? And yet you do not do +anything wrong--only what other people do, but with more success. +And you are very faithful to your friends. And so, God bless you. + +He was much shocked by hearing that I smoked. This is what he +says: + +What are you doing--breaking a young man's heart; not the first +time nor the second, nor the third--I believe? Poor fellows! they +have paid you the highest compliment that a gentleman can pay a +lady, and are deserving of all love. Shall I give you a small +piece of counsel? It is better for you and a duty to them that +their disappointed passions should never be known to a single +person, for as you are well aware, one confidante means every +body, and the good-natured world, who are of course very jealous +of you, will call you cruel and a breaker of hearts, etc. I do not +consider this advice, but merely a desire to make you see things +as others see them or nearly. The Symonds girls at Davos told me +that you smoked!!! at which I am shocked, because it is not the +manner of ladies in England. I always imagine you with a long +hookah puffing, puffing, since I heard this; give it up, my dear +Margaret--it will get you a bad name. Please do observe that I am +always serious when I try to make fun. I hope you are enjoying +life and friends and the weather: and believe me + +Ever yours truly, +B. JOWETT. + +He asked me once if I ever told any one that he wrote to me, to +which I answered: + +"I should rather think so! I tell every railway porter!" + +This distressed him. I told him that he was evidently ashamed of +my love for him, but that I was proud of it. + +JOWETT (after a long silence): "Would you like to have your life +written, Margaret?" + +MARGOT: "Not much, unless it told the whole truth about me and +every one and was indiscreet. If I could have a biographer like +Froude or Lord Hervey, it would be divine, as no one would be +bored by reading it. Who will you choose to write your life, +Master?" + +JOWETT: "No one will be in a position to write my life, Margaret." +(For some time he called me Margaret; he thought it sounded less +familiar than Margot.) + +MARGOT: "What nonsense! How can you possibly prevent it? If you +are not very good to me, I may even write it myself!" + +JOWETT (smiling): "If I could have been sure of that, I need not +have burnt all my correspondence! But you are an idle young lady +and would certainly never have concentrated on so dull a subject." + +MARGOT (indignantly): "Do you mean to say you have burnt all +George Eliot's letters, Matthew Arnold's, Swinburne's, Temple's +and Tennyson's?" + +JOWETT: "I have kept one or two of George Eliot's and Florence +Nightingale's; but great men do not write good letters." + +MARGOT: "Do you know Florence Nightingale? I wish I did." + +JOWETT (evidently surprised that I had never heard the gossip +connecting his name with Florence Nightingale): "Why do you want +to know her?" + +MARGOT: "Because she was in love with my friend George Pembroke's +[Footnote: George, Earl of Pembroke, uncle of the present Earl.] +father." + +JOWETT (guardedly): "Oh, indeed! I will take you to see her and +then you can ask her about all this." + +MARGOT: "I should love that! But perhaps she would not care for +me." + +JOWETT: "I do not think she will care for you, but would you mind +that?" + +MARGOT: "Oh, not at all! I am quite unfemnine in those ways. When +people leave the room, I don't say to myself, "I wonder if they +like me," but, "I wonder if I like them." + +This made an impression on the Master, or I should not have +remembered it. Some weeks after this he took me to see Florence +Nightingale in her house in South Street. Groups of hospital +nurses were waiting outside in the hall to see her. When we went +in I noted her fine, handsome, well-bred face. She was lying on a +sofa, with a white shawl round her shoulders and, after shaking +hands with her, the Master and I sat down. She pointed to the +beautiful Richmond print of Sidney Herbert, hanging above her +mantelpiece, and said to me: + +"I am interested to meet you, as I hear George Pembroke, the son +of my old and dear friend, is devoted to you. Will you tell me +what he is like?" + +I described Lord Pembroke, while Jowett sat in stony silence till +we left the house. + +One day, a few months after this visit, I was driving in the +vicinity of Oxford with the Master and I said to him: + +"You never speak of your relations to me and you never tell me +whether you were in love when you were young; I have told you so +much about myself!" + +JOWETT: "Have you ever heard that I was in love with any one?" + +I did not like to tell him that, since our visit to Florence +Nightingale, I had heard that he had wanted to marry her, so I +said: + +"Yes, I have been told you were in love once." + +JOWETT: "Only once?" + +MARGOT: "Yes." + +Complete silence fell upon us after this: I broke it at last by +saying: + +"What was your lady-love like, dear Master?" + +JOWETT: "Violent . . . very violent." + +After this disconcerting description, we drove back to Balliol. + +Mrs. Humphry Ward's novel "Robert Elsmere" had just been published +and was dedicated to my sister Laura and Thomas Hill Green, +Jowett's rival in Oxford. This is what the Master wrote to me +about it: + +Nov. 28, 1888. + +DEAR MISS TENNANT, + +I have just finished examining for the Balliol Scholarships: a +great institution of which you may possibly have heard. To what +shall I liken it? It is not unlike a man casting into the sea a +great dragnet, and when it is full of fish, pulling it up again +and taking out fishes, good, bad and indifferent, and throwing the +bad and indifferent back again into the sea. Among the good fish +there have been Archbishop Tait, Dean Stanley, A. H. Clough, Mr. +Arnold, Lord Coleridge, Lord Justice Bowen, Mr. Ilbert, &c., &c., +&c. The institution was founded about sixty years ago. + +I have been dining alone rather dismally, and now I shall imagine +that I receive a visit from a young lady about twenty-three years +of age, who enlivens me by her prattle. Is it her or her angel? +But I believe that she is an angel, pale, volatile and like +Laodamia in Wordsworth, ready to disappear at a moment's notice. I +could write a description of her, but am not sure that I could do +her justice. + +I wish that I could say anything to comfort you, my dear Margot, +or even to make you laugh. But no one can comfort another. The +memory of a beautiful character is "a joy for ever," especially of +one who was bound to you in ties of perfect amity. I saw what your +sister [Footnote: Mrs. Gordon Duff.] was from two short +conversations which I had with her, and from the manner in which +she was spoken of at Davos. + +I send you the book [Footnote: Plato's Republic] which I spoke of, +though I hardly know whether it is an appropriate present; at any +rate I do not expect you to read it. It has taken me the last year +to revise and, in parts, rewrite it. The great interest of it is +that it belongs to a different age of the human mind, in which +there is so much like and also unlike ourselves. Many of our +commonplaces and common words are being thought out for the first +time by Plato. Add to this that in the original this book is the +most perfect work of art in the world. I wonder whether it will +have any meaning or interest for you. + +You asked me once whether I desired to make a Sister of Charity of +you. Certainly not (although there are worse occupations); nor do +I desire to make anything. But your talking about plans of life +does lead me to think of what would be best and happiest for you. +I do not object to the hunting and going to Florence and Rome, but +should there not be some higher end to which these are the steps? +I think that you might happily fill up a great portion of your +life with literature (I am convinced that you have considerable +talent and might become eminent) and a small portion with works of +benevolence, just to keep us in love and charity with our poor +neighbours; and the rest I do not grudge to society and hunting. +Do you think that I am a hard taskmaster? Not very, I think. More +especially as you will not be led away by my good advice. You see +that I cannot bear to think of you hunting and ballet-dancing when +you are "fair, fat and forty-five." Do prepare yourself for that +awful age. + +I went to see Mrs. H. Ward the other day: she insists on doing +battle with the reviewer in the Quarterly, and is thinking of +another novel, of which the subject will be the free-thinking of +honest working-men in Paris and elsewhere. People say that in +"Robert Elsmere" Rose is intended for you, Catherine for your +sister Laura, the Squire for Mark Pattison, the Provost for me, +etc., and Mr. Grey for Professor Green. All the portraits are +about equally unlike the originals. + +Good-bye, you have been sitting with me for nearly an hour, and +now, like Laodamia or Protesilaus, you disappear. I have been the +better for your company. One serious word: May God bless you and +help you in this and every other great hurt of life. + +Ever yours, + +B. JOWETT. + +I will publish all his letters to me together, as, however +delightful letters may be, I find they bore me when they are +scattered all through an autobiography. + +March 11th, 1889. + +MY DEAR MARGARET, + +As you say, friendships grow dull if two persons do not care to +write to one another. I was beginning to think that you resented +my censorious criticisms on your youthful life and happiness. + +Can youth be serious without ceasing to be youth? I think it may. +The desire to promote the happiness of others rather than your own +may be always "breaking in." As my poor sister (of whom I will +talk to you some day) would say: "When others are happy, then I am +happy." She used to commend the religion of Sydney Smith--"Never +to let a day pass without doing a kindness to some body"--and I +think that you understand something about this; or you would not +be so popular and beloved. + +You ask me what persons I have seen lately: I doubt whether they +would interest you. Mr. Welldon, the Headmaster of Harrow, a very +honest and able man with a long life before him, and if he is not +too honest and open, not unlikely to be an Archbishop of +Canterbury. Mr. J. M. Wilson, Headmaster of Clifton College--a +very kind, genial and able man--there is a great deal of him and +in him--not a man of good judgment, but very devoted--a first-rate +man in his way. Then I have seen a good deal of Lord Rosebery-- +very able, shy, sensitive, ambitious, the last two qualities +rather at war with each other--very likely a future Prime +Minister. I like Lady Rosebery too--very sensible and high- +principled, not at all inclined to give up her Judaism to please +the rest of the world. They are rather overloaded with wealth and +fine houses: they are both very kind. I also like Lady Leconfield +[Footnote: Lady Leconfield was a sister of Lord Rosebery's and one +of my dearest friends.], whom I saw at Mentone. Then I paid a +visit to Tennyson, who has had a lingering illness of six months, +perhaps fatal, as he is eighty years of age. It was pleasing to +see how he takes it, very patient and without fear of death, +unlike his former state of mind. Though he is so sensitive, he +seemed to me to bear his illness like a great man. He has a volume +of poems waiting to come out--some of them as good as he ever +wrote. Was there ever an octogenarian poet before? + +Doctor Johnson used to say that he never in his life had eaten as +much fruit as he desired. I think I never talked to you as much as +I desired. You once told me that you would show me your novel. +[Footnote: I began two, but they were not at all clever and have +long since disappeared.] Is it a reality or a myth? I should be +interested to see it if you like to send me that or any other +writing of yours. + +"Robert Elsmere," as the authoress tells me, has sold 60,000 in +England and 400,000 in America! It has considerable merit, but its +success is really due to its saying what everybody is thinking. I +am astonished at her knowing so much about German theology--she is +a real scholar and takes up things of the right sort. I do not +believe that Mrs. Ward ever said "she had pulverised +Christianity." These things are invented about people by the +orthodox, i. e., the infidel world, in the hope that they will do +them harm. What do you think of being "laughed to death"? It would +be like being tickled to death. + +Good-bye, + +Ever yours truly, + +B. JOWETT. + +BALLIOL COLLEGE, May 22nd, 1891. + +MY DEAR MARGARET, + +It was very good of you to write me such a nice note. I hope you +are better. I rather believe in people being able to cure +themselves of many illnesses if they are tolerably prudent and +have a great spirit. + +I liked your two friends who visited me last Sunday, and shall +hope to make them friends of mine. Asquith is a capital fellow, +and has abilities which may rise to the highest things in the law +and politics. He is also very pleasant socially. I like your lady +friend. She has both "Sense and Sensibility," and is free from +"Pride and Prejudice." She told me that she had been brought up by +an Evangelical grandmother, and is none the worse for it. + +I begin to think bed is a very nice place, and I see a great deal +of it, not altogether from laziness, but because it is the only +way in which I am able to work. + +I have just read the life of Newman, who was a strange character. +To me he seems to have been the most artificial man of our +generation, full of ecclesiastical loves and hatred. Considering +what he really was, it is wonderful what a space he has filled in +the eyes of mankind. In speculation he was habitually untruthful +and not much better in practice. His conscience had been taken +out, and the Church put in its place. Yet he was a man of genius, +and a good man in the sense of being disinterested. Truth is very +often troublesome, but neither the world nor the individual can +get on without it. + +Here is the postman appearing at 12 o'clock, as disagreeable a +figure as the tax-gatherer. + +May you have good sleep and pleasant dreams. I shall still look +forward to seeing you with Lady Wemyss. + +Believe me always, + +Yours affectionately, + +B. JOWETT. + + BALLIOL COLLEGE, Sep. 8,1892. + +MY DEAR MARGARET, + +Your kind letter was a very sweet consolation to me. It was like +you to think of a friend in trouble. + +Poor Nettleship, whom we have lost, was a man who cannot be +replaced--certainly not in Oxford. He was a very good man, and had +a considerable touch of genius in him. He seems to have died +bravely, telling the guides not to be cowards, but to save their +lives. He also sang to them to keep them awake, saying (this was +so like him) that he had no voice, but that he would do his best. +He probably sang that song of Salvator Rosa's which we have so +often heard from him. He was wonderfully beloved by the +undergraduates, because they knew that he cared for them more than +for anything else in the world. + +Of his writings there is not much, except what you have read, and +a long essay on Plato in a book called "Hellenism"--very good. He +was beginning to write, and I think would have written well. He +was also an excellent speaker and lecturer--Mr. Asquith would tell +you about him. + +I have received many letters about him--but none of them has +touched me as much as yours. Thank you, dear. + +I see that you are in earnest about writing--no slipshod or want +of connection. Writing requires boundless leisure, and is an +infinite labour, yet there is also a very great pleasure in it. I +shall be delighted to read your sketches. + + BALLIOL COLLEGE, Dec. 27th, 1892. + +MY DEAR MARGARET, + +I have been reading Lady Jeune's two articles. I am glad that you +did not write them and have never written anything of that sort. +These criticisms on Society in which some of us "live and move and +have our being" are mistaken. In the first place, the whole fabric +of society is a great mystery, with which we ought not to take +liberties, and which should be spoken of only in a whisper when we +compare our experiences, whether in a walk or tete-a-tete, or +"over the back hair" with a faithful, reserved confidante. And +there is also a great deal that is painful in the absence of +freedom in the division of ranks, and the rising or falling from +one place in it to another. I am convinced that it is a thing not +to be spoken of; what we can do to improve it or do it good-- +whether I, the head of a college at Oxford, or a young lady of +fashion (I know that you don't like to be called that)--must be +done quite silently. + +Lady Jeune believes that all the world would go right, or at least +be a great deal better, if it were not for the Nouveaux Riches. +Some of the Eton masters talk to me in the same way. I agree with +our dear friend, Lady Wemyss, that the truth is "the old poor are +so jealous of them." We must study the arts of uniting Society as +a whole, not clinging to any one class of it--what is possible and +desirable to what is impossible and undesirable. + +I hope you are none the worse for your great effort. You know it +interests me to hear what you are about if you have time and +inclination to write. I saw your friend, Mr. Asquith, last night: +very nice and not at all puffed up with his great office +[Footnote: The Home Office.]. The fortunes of the Ministry seem +very doubtful. There is a tendency to follow Lord Rosebery in the +Cabinet. Some think that the Home Rule Bill will be pushed to the +second reading, then dropped, and a new shuffle of the cards will +take place under Lord Rosebery: this seems to me very likely. The +Ministry has very little to spare and they are not gaining ground, +and the English are beginning to hate the Irish and the Priests. + +I hope that all things go happily with you. Tell me some of your +thoughts. I have been reading Mr. Milner's book with great +satisfaction--most interesting and very important. I fear that I +have written you a dull and meandering epistle. + +Ever yours, + +B. JOWETT. + +BALLIOL COLLEGE, Feb. 13,1893. MY DEAR MARGARET, + +I began at ten minutes to twelve last night to write to you, but +as the postman appeared at five minutes to twelve, it was +naturally cut short. May I begin where I left off? I should like +to talk to you about many things. I hope you will not say, as +Johnson says to Boswell, "Sir, you have only two subjects, +yourself and me, and I am heartily sick of both." + +I have been delighted with Mr. Asquith's success. He has the +certainty of a great man in him--such strength and simplicity and +independence and superiority to the world and the clubs. You seem +to me very fortunate in having three such friends as Mr. Asquith, +Mr. Milner and Mr. Balfour. I believe that you may do a great deal +for them, and they are probably the first men of their time, or +not very far short of it. + +Mr. Balfour is not so good a leader of the House of Commons in +opposition as he was when he was in office. He is too aggressive +and not dignified enough. I fear that he will lose weight. He had +better not coquette with the foolish and unpractical thing +"Bimetallism," or write books on "Philosophic Doubt"; for there +are many things which we must certainly believe, are there not? +Quite enough either for the highest idealism or for ordinary life. +He will probably, like Sir R. Peel, have to change many of his +opinions in the course of the next thirty years and he should be +on his guard about this, or he will commit himself in such a +manner that he may have to withdraw from politics (about the +currency, about the Church, about Socialism). + +Is this to be the last day of Gladstone's life in the House of +Commons? It is very pathetic to think of the aged man making his +last great display almost in opposition to the convictions of his +whole life. I hope that he will acquit himself well and nobly, and +then it does not much matter whether or no he dies like Lord +Chatham a few days afterwards. It seems to me that his Ministry +have not done badly during the last fortnight. They have, to a +great extent, removed the impression they had created in England +that they were the friends of disorder. Do you know, I cannot help +feeling I have more of the Liberal element in me than of the +Conservative? This rivalry between the parties, each surprising +the other by their liberality, has done a great deal of good to +the people of England. + +HEADINGTON HILL, near OXFORD, July 30th, 1893. + +MY DEAR MARGARET, Did you ever read these lines?-- + + 'Tis said that marriages are made above-- + It may be so, some few, perhaps, for love. + But from the smell of sulphur I should say + They must be making MATCHES here all day. + +(Orpheus returning from the lower world in a farce called "The +Olympic Devils," which used to be played when I was young.) + +Miss Nightingale talks to me of "the feelings usually called +love," but then she is a heroine, perhaps a goddess. + +This love-making is a very serious business, though society makes +fun of it, perhaps to test the truth and earnestness of the +lovers. + +Dear, I am an old man, what the poet calls "on the threshold of +old age" (Homer), and I am not very romantic or sentimental about +such things, but I would do anything I could to save any one who +cares for me from making a mistake. + +I think that you are quite right in not running the risk without a +modest abode in the country. + +The real doubt about the affair is the family; will you consider +this and talk it over with your mother? The other day you were at +a masqued ball, as you told me--a few months hence you will have, +or rather may be having, the care of five children, with all the +ailments and miseries and disagreeables of children (unlike the +children of some of your friends) and not your own, although you +will have to be a mother to them, and this state of things will +last during the greatest part of your life. Is not the contrast +more than human nature can endure? I know that it is, as you said, +a nobler manner of living, but are you equal to such a struggle. +If you are, I can only say, "God bless you, you are a brave girl." +But I would not have you disguise from yourself the nature of the +trial. It is not possible to be a leader of fashion and to do your +duty to the five children. + +On the other hand, you have at your feet a man of outstanding +ability and high character, and who has attained an extraordinary +position--far better than any aristocratic lath or hop-pole; and +you can render him the most material help by your abilities and +knowledge of the world. Society will be gracious to you because +you are a grata persona, and everybody will wish you well because +you have made the sacrifice. You may lead a much higher life if +you are yourself equal to it. + +To-day I read Hume's life--by himself--very striking. You will +find it generally at the beginning of his History of England. +There have been saints among infidels too, e.g., Hume and Spinoza, +on behalf of whom I think it a duty to say something as the Church +has devoted them to eternal flames. To use a German phrase, "They +were 'Christians in unconsciousness.'" That describes a good many +people. I believe that as Christians we should get rid of a good +many doubtful phrases and speak only through our lives. + +Believe me, my dear Margaret, + +Yours truly and affectionately, + +B. JOWETT. + +BALLIOL, Sunday. 1893. + +MY DEAR MARGARET, + +I quite agree with you that what we want most in life is rest and +peace. To act up to our best lights, that is quite enough; there +need be no trouble about dogmas, which are hardly intelligible to +us, nor ought there to be any trouble about historical facts, +including miracles, of which the view of the world has naturally +altered in the course of ages. I include in this such questions as +whether Our Lord rose from the dead in any natural sense of the +words. It is quite a different question, whether we shall imitate +Him in His life. + +I am glad you think about these questions, and shall be pleased to +talk to you about them. What I have to say about religion is +contained in two words: Truth and Goodness, but I would not have +one without the other, and if I had to choose between them, might +be disposed to give Truth the first place. I think, also, that you +might put religion in another way, as absolute resignation to the +Will of God and the order of nature. There might be other +definitions, equally true, but none suited better than another to +the characters of men, such as the imitation of Christ, or the +truth in all religions, which would be an adequate description of +it. The Christian religion seems to me to extend to all the parts +and modes of life, and then to come back to our hearts and +conscience. I think that the best way of considering it, and the +most interesting, is to view it as it may be seen in the lives of +good men everywhere, whether Christians or so-called heathens-- +Socrates, Plato, Marcus Aurelius, St. Augustine, as well as in the +lives of Christ, or Bunyan, or Spinoza. The study of religious +biography seems to me one of the best modes of keeping up +Christian feeling. + +As to the question of Disestablishment, I am not like Mr. Balfour, +I wobble rather, yet, on the whole, I agree with Mr. Gladstone, +certainly about the Welsh Church. Churches are so worldly and so +much allied to the interests of the higher classes. I think that a +person who belongs to a Church should always endeavour to live +above his Church, above the sermon and a good part of the prayer, +above the Athanasian Creed, and the form of Ordination, above the +passions of party feelings and public meetings. The best +individuals have always been better than Churches, though I do not +go so far as a German professor, who thinks that people will never +be religious until they leave off going to church, yet I am of +opinion that in every congregation the hearers should attempt to +raise themselves above the tone of the preacher and of the +service. + +I am sorry to hear that Mr. Balfour, who has so much that is +liberal in him, is of an extreme opposite opinion. But I feel that +I have talked long enough on a subject which may not interest you, +but of which I should like to talk to you again when we meet. It +seems to me probable that the Church WILL be disestablished, +because it has been so already in most countries of Europe, and +because the school is everywhere taking its place. + +I shall look forward to your coming to see me, if I am seriously +ill--"Be with me when my light is low." But I don't think that +this illness which I at present have is serious enough to make any +of my friends anxious, and it would be rather awkward for my +friends to come and take leave of me if I recovered, which I mean +to do, for what I think a good reason--because I STILL have a good +deal to do. + +B. JOWETT. + +My beloved friend died in 1893. + +The year before his death he had the dangerous illness to which he +alludes in the above letter. Every one thought he would die. He +dictated farewell letters to all his friends by his secretary and +housekeeper, Miss Knight. On receiveing mine from him at Glen, I +was so much annoyed at its tone that I wired: + +Jowett Balliol College Oxford. + +I refuse to accept this as your farewell letter to me you have +been listening to some silly woman and believing what she says. +Love. MARGOT. + +This telegram had a magical effect: he got steadily better and +wrote me a wonderful letter. I remember the reason that I was +vexed was because he believed a report that I had knocked up +against a foreign potentate in Rotten Row for a bet, which was not +only untrue but ridiculous, and I was getting a little impatient +of the cattishness and credulity of the West-end of London. + +My week-ends at Balliol were different to my other visits. The +Master took infinite trouble over them. Once on my arrival he +asked me which of one or two men I would like to sit next to at +dinner. I said I should prefer Mr. Huxley or Lord Bowen, to which +he replied: + +"I would like you to have on your other side, either to-night or +to-morrow, my friend Lord Selborne:" [Footnote: The late Earl of +Selborne.] + +MARGOT (with surprise): "Since when is he your friend? I was under +the impression you disliked him." + +JOWETT: "Your impression was right, but even the youngest of us +are sometimes wrong, as Dr. Thompson said, and I look upon Lord +Selborne now as a friend. I hope I said nothing against him." + +MARGOT: "Oh dear no! You only said he was fond of hymns and had no +sense of humour." + +JOWETT (snappishly): "If that is so, Margaret, I made an extremely +foolish remark. I will put you between Lord Bowen and Sir Alfred +Lyall. Was it not strange that you should have said of Lyall to +Huxley that he reminded you of a faded Crusader and that you +suspected him of wearing a coat of mail under his broadcloth, to +which you will remember Huxley remarked, 'You mean a coating of +female, without which no man is saved!' Your sister, Lady +Ribblesdale, said the very same thing to me about him." + +This interested me, as Charty and I had not spoken to each other +of Sir Alfred Lyall, who was a new acquaintance of ours. + +MARGOT: "I am sure, Master, you did not give her the same answer +as Mr. Huxley gave me; you don't think well of my sex, do you?" + +JOWETT: "You are not the person to reproach me, Margaret: only the +other week I reproved you for saying women were often dull, +sometimes dangerous and always dishonourable. I might have added +they were rarely reasonable and always courageous. Would you agree +to this?" + +MARGOT: "Yes." + +I sat between Sir Alfred Lyall and Lord Bowen that night at +dinner. There was more bouquet than body about Sir Alfred and, to +parody Gibbon, Lord Bowen's mind was not clouded by enthusiasm; +but two more delightful men never existed. After dinner, Huxley +came across the room to me and said that the Master had confessed +he had done him out of sitting next to me, so would I talk to him? +We sat down together and our conversation opened on religion. + +There was not much juste milieu about Huxley. He began by saying +God was only there because people believed in Him, and that the +fastidious incognito, "I am that I am," was His idea of humour, +etc., etc. He ended by saying he did not believe any man of action +had ever been inspired by religion. I thought I would call in Lord +Bowen, who was standing aimlessly in the middle of the room, to my +assistance. He instantly responded and drew a chair up to us. I +said to him: + +"Mr. Huxley challenges me to produce any man of action who has +been directly inspired by religion." + +BOWEN (WITH A SLEEK SMILE): "Between us we should be able to +answer him, Miss Tennant, I think. Who is your man?" + +Every idea seemed to scatter out of my brain. I suggested at +random: + +"Gordon." + +I might have been reading his thoughts, for it so happened that +Huxley adored General Gordon. + +HUXLEY: "Ah! There you rather have me!" + +He had obviously had enough of me, for, changing the position of +his chair, as if to engage Bowen in a tete-a-tete, he said: + +"My dear Bowen, Gordon was the most remarkable man I ever met. I +know him well; he was sincere and disinterested, quite incapable +of saying anything he did not think. You will hardly believe me, +but one day he said in tones of passionate conviction that, if he +were to walk round the corner of the street and have his brains +shot out, he would only be transferred to a wider sphere of +government." + +BOWEN: "Would the absence of brains have been of any help to him?" + +After this, our mutual good humour was restored and I only had +time for a word with Mrs. Green before the evening was ruined by +Jowett taking us across the quad to hear moderate music in the +hideous Balliol hall. Of all the Master's women friends, I +infinitely preferred Mrs. T. H. Green, John Addington Symonds' +sister. She is among the rare women who have all the qualities +which in moments of disillusion I deny to them. + +I spent my last week-end at Balliol when Jowett's health appeared +to have completely recovered. On the Monday morning, after his +guests had gone, I went as usual into his study to talk to him. My +wire on receiving his death-bed letter had amused but distressed +him; and on my arrival he pressed me to tell him what it was he +had written that had offended me. I told him I was not offended, +only hurt. He asked me what the difference was. I wish I could +have given him the answer that my daughter Elizabeth gave Lord +Grey [Footnote: Viscount Grey of Fallodon.] when he asked her the +same question, walking in the garden at Fallodon on the occasion +of her first countryhouse visit: + +"The one touches your vanity and the other your heart." + +I do not know what I said, but I told him I was quite unoffended +and without touchiness, but that his letter had all the faults of +a schoolmaster and a cleric in it and not the love of a friend. He +listened to me with his usual patience and sweetness and expressed +his regret. + +On the Monday morning of which I am writing, and on which we had +our last conversation, I had made up my mind that, as I had spoilt +many good conversations by talking too much myself, I would hold +my tongue and let the Master for once make the first move. I had +not had much experience of his classical and devastating silences +and had often defended him from the charge; but it was time to see +what happened if I talked less. + +When we got into the room and he had shut the door, I absently +selected the only comfortable chair and we sat down next to each +other. A long and quelling silence followed the lighting of my +cigarette. Feeling rather at a loose end, I thought out a few +stage directions--"here business with handkerchief, etc."--and +adjusted the buckles on my shoes. I looked at some photographs and +fingered a paper-knife and odds and ends on the table near me. The +oppressive silence continued. I strolled to the book-shelves and, +under cover of a copy of "Country Conversations," peeped at the +Master. He appeared to be quite unaware of my existence. + +"Nothing doing," said I to myself, putting back the book. + +Something had switched him off as if he had been the electric +light. + +At last, breaking the silence with considerable impatience, I +said: + +"Really, Master, there is very little excuse for your silence! +Surely you have something to say to me, something to tell me; you +have had an experience since we talked to each other that I have +never had: you have been near Death." + +JOWETT (not in any way put out): "I felt no rapture, no bliss." +(Suddenly looking at me and taking my hand.) "My dear child, you +must believe in God in spite of what the clergy say." + + + + + +CHAPTER III + +FAST AND FURIOUS HUNTING IN LEICESTERSHIRE--COUNTRY HOUSE PARTY +AND A NEW ADMIRER--FRIENDSHIP WITH LORD AND LADY MANNERS + + +My friendship with Lord and Lady Manners, [Footnote: Avon Tyrrell, +Christchurch, Hants. Lady Manners was a Miss Fane.] of Avon +Tyrrell, probably made more difference to the course of my life +than anything that had happened in it. + +Riding was what I knew and cared most about; and I dreamt of High +Leicestershire. I had hunted in Cheshire, where you killed three +foxes a day and found yourself either clattering among cottages +and clothes-lines, or blocked by carriages and crowds; I knew the +stiff plough and fine horses of Yorkshire and the rotten grass in +the Bicester; I had struggled over the large fences and small +enclosures of the Grafton and been a heroine in the select fields +and large becks with the Burton; and the Beaufort had seen the +dawn of my fox-hunting; but Melton was a name which brought the +Hon. Crasher before me and opened a vista on my future of all that +was fast, furious and fashionable. + +When I was told that I was going to sit next to the Master of the +Quorn at dinner, my excitement knew no bounds. + +Gordon Cunard--whose brother Bache owned the famous hounds in +Market Harborough--had insisted on my joining him at a country- +house party given for a ball. On getting the invitation I had +refused, as I hardly knew our hostess--the pretty Mrs. Farnham-- +but after receiving a spirited telegram from my new admirer--one +of the best men to hounds in Leicestershire--I changed my mind. In +consequence of this decision a double event took place. I fell in +love with Peter Flower--a brother of the late Lord Battersea--and +formed an attachment with a couple whose devotion and goodness to +me for more than twenty years encouraged and embellished my +glorious youth. + +Lord Manners, or "Hoppy," as we called him, was one of the few men +I ever met whom the word "single-minded" described. His sense of +honour was only equalled by his sense of humour; and a more +original, tender, truthful, uncynical, real being never existed. +He was a fine sportsman and had won the Grand Military when he was +in the Grenadiers, riding one of his own hunters; he was also the +second gentleman in England to win the Grand National in 1882, on +a thoroughbred called Seaman, who was by no means every one's +horse. For other people he cared nothing. "Decidement je n'aime +pas les autres," he would have said, to quote my son-in-law, +Antoine Bibesco. + +His wife often said that, but for her, he would not have asked a +creature inside the house; be this as it may, no host and hostess +could have been more socially susceptible or given their guests a +warmer welcome than Con and Hoppy Manners. + +What I loved and admired in him was his keenness and his +impeccable unworldliness. He was perfectly independent of public +opinion and as free from rancour as he was from fear, malice or +acerbity. He never said a stupid thing. Some people would say that +this is not a compliment, but the amount of silly things that I +have heard clever people say makes me often wonder what is left +for the stupid. + +His wife was very different, though quite as free from rhetoric. + +Under a becalmed exterior Con Manners was a little brittle and +found it difficult to say she was in the wrong; this impenitence +caused some of her lovers a suffering of which she was +unconscious; it is a minor failing which strikes a dumb note in +me, but which I have since discovered is not only common, but +almost universal. I often warned people of Con's dangerous smile +when I observed them blundering along; but though she was uneven +in her powers of forgiveness, the serious quarrel of her life was +made up ultimately without reserve. Lady Manners was clever, +gracious, and understanding; she was more worldly, more +adventurous and less deprecating than her husband; people meant a +great deal to her; and the whole of London was at her feet, except +those lonely men and women who specialise in collecting the famous +as men collect centipedes. + +To digress here. I asked my friend Mr. Birrell once how the juste +milieu was to be found--for an enterprising person--between +running after the great men of the day and missing them; and he +said: + +"I would advise you to live among your superiors, Margot, but to +be of them." + +Con was one of the few women of whom it could be said that she was +in an equal degree a wonderful wife, mother, sister and friend. +Her charm of manner and the tenderness of her regard gave her face +beauty that was independent--almost a rival of fine features--and +she was a saint of goodness. + +Her love of flowers made every part of her home, inside and out, +radiant; and her sense of humour and love of being entertained +stimulated the witty and the lazy. + +For nineteen years I watched her go about her daily duties with a +quiet grace and serenity infinitely restful to live with, and when +I was separated from her it nearly broke my heart. In connection +with the love Con and I had for each other I will only add an old +French quotation: + +"Par grace infinie Dieu les mist au mande ensemble." + +My dear friend, Mrs. Hamlyn, was the chatelaine of the famous +Clovelly, in Devonshire, and was Con's sister. She had the spirit +of eternal youth and was full of breathless admiration. I hardly +ever met any one who derived so much pleasure and surprise out of +ordinary life. She was as uncritical and tolerant of those she +loved as she was narrow and vehement over those who had +unaccountably offended her. She had an ebullient and voracious +sense of humour and was baffled and eblouie by titled people, +however vulgar and ridiculous they might be. By this I do not mean +she was a snob--on the contrary she made and kept friends among +the frumps and the obscure, to whom she showed faithful +hospitality; but she was old-fashioned and thought that all +duchesses were ladies. + +Christine Hamlyn was a character-part: but, if the machinery was +not invented by which you could remove her prejudices, no tank +could turn her from her friends. It was through the Souls and +these friends whom I have endeavoured to describe that I entered +into a new phase of my life. + + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +MARGOT FALLS IN LOVE AGAIN--"HAVOC" IN THE HUNTING FIELD; A FALL +AND A DUCKING--THE FAMOUS MRS. BO; UNHEEDED ADVICE FROM A RIVAL--A +LOVERS' QUARREL--PETER JUMPS IN THE WINDOW--THE AMERICAN TROTTER-- +ANOTHER LOVER INTERVENES--PETER RETURNS FROM INDIA; ILLUMINATION +FROM A DARK WOMAN + + +The first time I ever saw Peter Flower was at Ranelagh, where he +had taken my sister Charty Ribblesdale to watch a polo-match. They +were sitting together at an iron table, under a cedar tree, eating +ices. I was wearing a grey muslin dress with a black sash and a +black hat, with coral beads round my throat, and heard him say as +I came up to them: + +"Nineteen? Not possible! I should have said fifteen! Is that the +one that rides so well?" + +After shaking hands I sat down and looked about me. + +I always notice what men wear; and Peter Flower was the best- +dressed man I had ever seen. I do not know who could have worn his +clothes when they were new; but certainly he never did. After his +clothes, what I was most struck by was his peculiar, almost animal +grace, powerful sloping shoulders, fascinating laugh and +infectious vitality. + +Laurence Oliphant once said to me, "I divide the world into life- +givers and life-takers"; and I have often had reason to feel the +truth of this, being as I am acutely sensitive to high spirits. On +looking back along the gallery of my acquaintance, I can find not +more than three or four people as tenacious of life as Peter was: +Lady Desborough, Lady Cunard, my son Anthony and myself. There are +various kinds of high spirits: some so crude and rough-tongued +that they vitiate what they touch and estrange every one of +sensibility and some so insistent that they tire and suffocate +you; but Peter's vitality revived and restored every one he came +in contact with; and, when I said good-bye to him that day at +Ranelagh, although I cannot remember a single sentence of any +interest spoken by him or by me, my mind was absorbed in thinking +of when and how I could meet him again. + +In the winter of that same year I went with the Ribblesdales to +stay with Peter's brother, Lord Battersea, to have a hunt. I took +with me the best of hats and habits and two leggy and faded +hirelings, hoping to pick up a mount. Charty having twisted her +knee the day after we arrived, this enabled me to ride the horse +on which Peter was to have mounted her; and full of spirits we all +went off to the meet of the Bicester hounds. I had hardly spoken +three words to my benefactor, but Ribblesdale had rather unwisely +told him that I was the best rider to hounds in England. + +At the meet I examined my mount closely while the man was +lengthening my stirrup. Havoc, as he was called, was a dark +chestnut, 16.1, with a coat like the back of a violin and a +spiteful little head. He had an enormous bit on; and I was glad to +see a leather strap under the curb-chain. + +When I was mounted, Peter kept close to my side and said: + +"You're on a topper! Take him where you like, but ride your own +line." + +To which I replied: + +"Why? Does he rush? I had thought of following you." + +PETER: "Not at all, but he may pull you a bit, so keep away from +the field; the fence isn't made that he can't jump; and as for +water, he's a swallow! I wish I could say the same of mine! We've +got a brook round about here with rotten banks, it will catch the +best! But, if we are near each other, you must come alongside and +go first and mine will very likely follow you. I don't want to +spend the night in that beastly brook." + +It was a good scenting day and we did not take long to find. I +stuck to Peter Flower while the Bicester hounds raced across the +heavy grass towards a hairy-looking ugly double. In spite of the +ironmonger's shop in Havoc's mouth, I had not the faintest control +over him, so I said to Peter: + +"You know, Mr. Flower, I can't stop your horse!" + +He looked at me with a charming smile and said: + +"But why should you? Hounds are running!" + +MARGOT: "But I can't turn him!" + +PETER: "It doesn't matter! They are running straight. Hullo! +Lookout! Look out for Hydy!" + +We were going great guns. I saw a man in front of me slowing up to +the double, so shouted at him: + +"Get out of my way! Get out of my way!" + +I was certain that at the pace he was going he would take a heavy +fall and I should be on the top of him. While in the act of +turning round to see who it was that was shouting, his willing +horse paused and I shot past him, taking away his spur in my habit +skirt. I heard a volley of oaths as I jumped into the jungle. +Havoc, however, did not like the brambles and, steadying himself +as he landed, arched with the activity of a cat over a high rail +on the other side of the double; I turned round and saw Peter's +horse close behind me hit the rail and peck heavily upon landing, +at which Peter gave him one down the shoulder and looked furious. + +I had no illusions! I was on a horse that nothing could stop! +Seeing a line of willows in front of me, I shouted to Peter to +come along, as I thought if the brook was ahead of us I could not +possibly keep close to him, going at that pace. To my surprise and +delight, as we approached the willows Peter passed me and the +water widened out in front of us; I saw by his set face that it +was neck or nothing with him. Havoc was going well within himself, +but his stable-companion was precipitate and flurried; and before +I knew what had happened Peter was in the middle of the brook and +I was jumping over his head. On landing I made a large circle +round the field away from hounds, trying to pull up; and when I +could turn round I found myself facing the brook again, with Peter +dripping on the bank nearest to me. Havoc pricked his ears, passed +him like a flash and jumped the brook again; but the bank on +landing was boggy and while we were floundering I got a pull at +him by putting the curb-rein under my pommel and, exhausted and +distressed, I jumped off. Peter burst out laughing. + +"We seem to be separated for life," he said. "Do look at my damned +horse!" + +I looked down the water and saw the animal standing knee-deep, +nibbling grass and mud off the bank with perfect composure. + +MARGOT: "I really believe Havoc would jump this brook for a third +time and then I should be by your side. What luck that you aren't +soaked to the skin; hadn't I better look out for the second +horsemen? Hounds by now will be at the sea and I confess I can't +ride your horse: does he always pull like this?" + +PETER: "Yes, he catches hold a bit, but what do you mean? You rode +him beautifully. Hullo! What is that spur doing in your skirt?" + +MARGOT: "I took it off the man that you call 'Hydy,' who was going +so sticky at the double when we started." + +PETER: "Poor old Clarendon! I advise you to keep his spur, he'll +never guess who took it; and, if I know anything about him, there +will be no love lost between you even if you do return it to him!" + +I was longing for another horse, as I could not bear the idea of +going home. At that moment a single file of second horse-men came +in sight; and Peter's well-trained servant, on a thoroughbred +grey, rode up to us at the conventional trot. Peter lit a cigar +and, pointing to the brook, said to his man: + +"Go off and get a rope and hang that brute! Or haul him out, will +you? And give me my lunch." + +We were miles away from any human habitation and I felt depressed. + +"Perhaps I had better ride home with your man," said I, looking +tentatively at Peter. + +"Home! What for?" said he. + +MARGOT: "Are you sure Havoc is not tired?" + +PETER: "I wish to God he was! But I daresay this infernal Bicester +grass, which is heavier than anything I saw in Yorkshire, has +steadied him a bit; you'll see he'll go far better with you this +afternoon. I'm awfully sorry and would put you on my second +horse, but it isn't mine and I'm told it's got a bit of a temper; +if you go through that gate we'll have our lunch together. ...Have +a cigarette?" + +I smiled and shook my head; my mouth was as dry as a Japanese toy +and I felt shattered with fatigue. The ground on which I was +standing was deep and I was afraid of walking in case I should +leave my boots in it, so I tapped the back of Havoc's fetlocks +till I got him stretched and with great skill mounted myself. This +filled Peter with admiration; and, lifting his hat, he said: + +"Well! You are the very first woman I ever saw mount herself +without two men and a boy hanging on to the horse's head." + +I rode towards the gate and Peter joined me a few minutes later on +his second horse. He praised my riding and promised he would mount +me any day in the week if I could only get some one to ask me down +to Brackley where he kept his horses; he said the Grafton was the +country to hunt in and that, though Tom Firr, the huntsman of the +Quorn, was the greatest man in England, Frank Beers was hard to +beat. I felt pleased at his admiration for my riding, but I knew +Havoc had not turned a hair and that, if I went on hunting, I +should kill either myself, Peter or some one else. + +"Aren't you nervous when you see a helpless woman riding one of +your horses?" I said to him. + +PETER: "No, I am only afraid she'll hurt my horse! I take her off +pretty quick, I can tell you, if I think she's going to spoil my +sale; but I never mount a woman. Your sister is a magnificent +rider, or I would never have put her on that horse. Now come along +and with any luck you will be alone with hounds this afternoon and +Havoc will be knocked down at Tattersalls for five hundred +guineas." + +MARGOT: "You are sure you want me to go on?" + +PETER: "You think I want you to go home? Very well! If you +go..._I_ go!" + +I longed to have the courage to say, "Let us both go home," but I +knew he would think that I was funking and it was still early in +the day. He looked at me steadily and said: + +"I will do exactly what you like." + +I looked at him, but at that moment the hounds came in sight and +my last chance was gone. We shogged along to the next cover, Havoc +as mild as milk. I was amazed at Peter's nerve: if any horse of +mine had taken such complete charge of its rider, I should have +been in a state of anguish till I had separated them; but he was +riding along talking and laughing in front of me in the highest of +spirits. This lack of sensitiveness irritated me and my heart +sank. Before reaching the cover, Peter came up to me and suggested +that we should change Havoc's bit. I then perceived he was not +quite so happy as I thought; and this determined me to stick it +out. I thanked him demurely and added, with a slight and smiling +shrug: + +"I fear no bit can save me to-day, thank you." + +At which Peter said with visible irritability: + +"Oh, for God's sake then don't let us go on! If you hate my horse +I vote we go no farther!" + +"What a cross man!" I said to myself, seeing him flushed and +snappy; but a ringing "Halloa!" brought our deliberations to an +abrupt end. + +Havoc and I shot down the road, passing the blustering field; and, +hopping over a gap, we found ourselves close to the hounds, who +were running hell-for-leather towards a handsome country seat +perched upon a hill. A park is what I hate most out hunting: +hounds invariably lose the line, the field loses its way and I +lose my temper. + +I looked round to see if my benefactor was near me, but he was +nowhere to be seen. Eight or ten hard riders were behind me; they +shouted: + +"Don't go into the wood! Turn to your left! Don't go into the +wood!" + +I saw a fancy gate of yellow polished oak in front of me, at the +end of one of the grass rides in the wood, and what looked like +lawns beyond. I was unable to turn to the left with my companions, +but plunged into the trees where the hounds paused: not so Havoc, +who, in spite of the deep ground, was still going great guns. A +lady behind me, guessing what had happened, left her companions +and managed somehow or other to pass me in the ride; and, as I +approached the yellow gate, she was holding it open for me. I +shouted my thanks to her and she shouted back: + +"Get off when you stop!" + +This was my fixed determination, as I had observed that Havoc's +tongue was over the bit and he was not aware that any one was on +his back, nor was he the least tired and no doubt would have +jumped the yellow gate with ease. + +After leaving my saviour I was joined by my former companions. The +hounds had picked up again and we left the gate, the wood and the +country seat behind us. Still going very strong, we all turned +into a chalk field with a white road sunk between two high banks +leading down to a ford. I kept on the top of the bank, as I was +afraid of splashing people in the water, if not knocking them +down. Two men were standing by the fence ahead, which separated me +from what appeared to be a river; and I knew there must be a +considerable drop in front of me. They held their hands up in +warning as I came galloping up; I took my foot out of the stirrup +and dropping my reins gave myself up for lost, but in spite of +Havoc slowing up he was going too fast to stop or turn. He made a +magnificent effort, but I saw the water twinkling below me; and +after that I knew no more. + +When I came to, I was lying on a box bed in a cottage, with Peter +and the lady who had held the yellow gate kneeling by my side. + +"I think you are mad to put any one on that horse!" I heard her +say indignantly. "You know how often it has changed hands; and you +yourself can hardly ride it." + +Havoc had tried to scramble down the bank, which luckily for me +had not been immediately under the fence, but it could not be +done, so we took a somersault into the brook, most alarming for +the people in the ford to see. However, as the water was deep +where I landed, I was not hurt, but had fainted from fear and +exhaustion. + +Peter's misery was profound; ice-white and in an agony of fear, he +was warming my feet with both his hands while I watched him +quietly. I was taken home in a brougham by my kind friend, who +turned out to be Mrs. Bunbury, a sister of John Watson, the Master +of the Meath hounds, and the daughter of old Mr. Watson, the +Master of the Carlow and the finest rider to hounds in England. + +This was how Peter and I first came really to know each other; and +after that it was only a question of time when our friendship +developed into a serious love-affair. I stayed with Mrs. Bunbury +in the Grafton country that winter for several weeks and was +mounted by every one. + +As Peter was a kind of hero in the hunting field and had never +been known to mount a woman, I was the object of much jealousy. +The first scene in my life occurred at Brackley, where he and a +friend of his, called Hatfield Harter, shared a hunting box +together. + +There was a lady of charm and beauty in the vicinity who went by +the name of Mrs. Bo. They said she had gone well to hounds in her +youth, but I had never observed her jump a twig. She often joined +us when Peter and I were changing horses and once or twice had +ridden home with us. Peter did not appear to like her much, but I +was too busy to notice this one way or the other. One day I said +to him I thought he was rather snubby to her and added: + +"After all, she must have been a very pretty woman when she was +young and I don't think it's nice of you to show such irritation +when she joins us." + +PETER: "Do you call her old?" + +MARGOT: "Well, oldish I should say. She must be over thirty, isn't +she?" + +PETER: "Do you call that old?" + +MARGOT: "I don't know! How old are you, Peter?" + +PETER: "I shan't tell you." + +One day I rode back from hunting, having got wet to the skin. I +had left the Bunbury brougham in Peter's stables but I did not +like to go back in wet clothes; so, after seeing my horse +comfortably gruelled, I walked up to the charming lady's house to +borrow dry clothes. She was out, but her maid gave me a coat and +skirt, which--though much too big--served my purpose. + +After having tea with Peter, who was ill in bed, I drove up to +thank the lady for her clothes. She was lying on a long, thickly +pillowed couch, smoking a cigarette in a boudoir that smelt of +violets. She greeted me coldly; and I was just going away when she +threw her cigarette into the fire and, suddenly sitting very +erect, said: + +"Wait! I have something to say to you." + +I saw by the expression on her face that I had no chance of +getting away, though I was tired and felt at a strange +disadvantage in my flowing skirts. + +MRS. BO: "Does it not strike you that going to tea with a man who +is in bed is a thing no one can do?" + +MARGOT: "Going to see a man who is ill? No, certainly not!" + +MRS. BO: "Well, then let me tell you for your own information how +it will strike other people. I am a much older woman than you and +I warn you, you can't go on doing this sort of thing! Why should +you come down here among all of us who are friends and make +mischief and create talk?" + +I felt chilled to the bone and, getting up, said: + +"I think I had better leave you now, as I am tired and you are +angry." + +MRS. BO (standing up and coming very close to me): "Do you not +know that I would nurse Peter Flower through yellow fever! But, +though I have lived next door to him these last three years, I +would never dream of doing what you have done to-day." + +The expression on her face was so intense that I felt sorry for +her and said as gently as I could: + +"I do not see why you shouldn't! Especially if you are all such +friends down here as you say you are. However, every one has a +different idea of what is right and wrong. ...I must go now!" + +I was determined not to stay a moment longer and walked to the +door, but she had lost her head and said in a hard, bitter voice: + +"You say every one has a different idea of right and wrong, but I +should say you have none!" + +At this I left the room. + +When I told Mrs. Bunbury what had happened, all she said was: + +"Cat! She's jealous! Before you came down here, Peter Flower was +in love with her." + +This was a great shock to me and I determined I would leave the +Grafton country, as I had already been away far too long from my +own people; so I wrote to Peter saying I was sorry not to say +good-bye to him, but that I had to go home. The next day was +Sunday. I got my usual love-letter from Peter--who, whether I saw +him or not, wrote daily--telling me that his temperature had gone +up again and that he would give me his two best horses on Monday, +as he was not allowed to leave his room. After we had finished +lunch, Peter turned up, looking ill and furious. Mrs. Bunbury +greeted him sweetly and said: + +"You ought to be in bed, you know; but, since you ARE here, I'll +leave Margot to look after you while Jacky and I go round the +stables." + +When we were left to ourselves, Peter, looking at me, said: + +"Well! I've got your letter! What is all this about? Don't you +know there are two horses coming over from Ireland this week which +I want you particularly to ride for me?" + +I saw that he was thoroughly upset and told him that I was going +home, as I had been already too long away. + +"Have your people written to you?" he said. + +MARGOT: "They always write. ..." + +PETER: (seeing the evasion): "What's wrong?" + +MARGOT: "What do you mean?" + +PETER: "You know quite well that no one has asked you to go home. +Something has happened; some one has said something to you; you've +been put out. After all it was only yesterday that we were +discussing every meet; and you promised to give me a lurcher. What +has happened since to change you?" + +MARGOT: "Oh, what does it matter? I can always come down here +again later on." + +PETER: "How wanting in candour you are! You are not a bit like +what I thought you were!" + +MARGOT (sweetly): "No ...?" + +PETER: "Not a bit! You are a regular woman. I thought differently +of you somehow!" + +MARGOT: "You thought I was a dog-fancier or a rough-rider, did +you, with a good thick skin?" + +PETER: "I fail to understand you! Are you alluding to the manners +of my horses?" + +MARGOT: "No, to your friends." + +PETER: "Ah! Ah! Nous y sommes! ... How can you be so childish! +What did Mrs. Bo say to you?" + +MARGOT: "Oh, spare me from going into your friends' affairs!" + +PETER (flushed with temper, but trying to control himself): "What +does it matter what an old woman says whose nose has been put out +of joint in the hunting-field?" + +MARGOT: "You told me she was young." + +PETER: "What an awful lie! You said she was pretty and I disagreed +with you." Silence. "What did she say to you? I tell you she is +jealous of you in the hunting-field!" + +MARGOT: "No, she's not; she's jealous of me in your bedroom and +says I don't know right from wrong." + +PETER (startled at first and then bursting out laughing): "There's +nothing very original about that!" + +MARGOT (indignantly): "Do you mean to say that it's a platitude? +And that I DON'T know right from wrong?" + +PETER (taking my hands and kissing them with a sigh of intense +relief): "I wonder!" + +MARGOT (getting up): "Well, after that, nothing will induce me to +stay down here or ride any of your horses ever again! No regiment +of soldiers will keep me!" + +PETER: "Really, darling, how can you be so foolish! Who would ever +think it wrong to go and see a poor devil ill in bed! You had to +ride my horse back to its stable and it was your duty to come and +ask after me and thank me for all my kindness to you and the good +horses I've put you on!" + +MARGOT: "Evidently in this country I am not wanted, Mrs. Bo said +so; and you ought to have warned me you were in love with her. You +said I was not the woman you thought I was: well, I can say the +same of you!" + +At this Peter got up and all his laughter disappeared. + +"Do you mean what you say? Is this the impression you got from +talking to Mrs. Bo?" + +MARGOT: "Yes." + +PETER: "In that case I will go and see her and ask her which of +the two of you is lying! If it's you, you needn't bother yourself +to leave this country, for I shall sell my horses. ...I wish to +God I had never met you!" + +I felt very uncomfortable and unhappy, as in my heart I knew that +Mrs. Bo had never said Peter was in love with her; she had not +alluded to his feelings for her at all. I got up to stop him +leaving the room and put myself in front of the door. + +MARGOT: "Really, why make scenes! There is nothing so tiring; and +you know quite well you are ill and ought to go to bed. Is there +any object in going round the country discussing me?" + +PETER: "Just go away, will you? I'm ill and want to get off." + +I did not move; I saw he was white with rage. The idea of going +round the country talking about me was more than he could bear; so +I said, trying to mollify him: + +"If you want to discuss me, I am always willing to listen; there +is nothing I enjoy so much as talking about myself." + +It was too late. All he said to me was: + +"Do you mind leaving that door? You tire me and it's getting +dark." + +MARGOT: "I will let you go, but promise me you won't go to Mrs. Bo +to-day; or, if you DO, tell me what you are going to say to her +first." + +PETER: "You've never told me yet what she said to you, except that +I was in love with her, so why should I tell you what I propose +saying to her! For once you cannot have it all your own way. You +are SO spoilt since you've been down here that..." + +I flung the door wide open and, before he could finish his +sentence, ran up to my room. + + Peter was curiously upsetting to the feminine sense; he wanted to +conceal it and to expose it at the same time, under the impression +it might arouse my jealousy. He was specially angry with me for +dancing with King Edward, then the Prince of Wales. I told him +that if he would learn to waltz instead of prance I would dance +with him, but till he did I should choose my own partners. Over +this we had a great row; and, after sitting out two dances with +the Prince, I put on my cloak and walked round to 40 Grosvenor +Square without saying good night to Peter. I was in my dressing- +gown, with my hair--my one claim to beauty--standing out all +round my head, when I heard a noise in the street and, looking +down, I saw Peter standing on the wall of our porch gazing across +an angle of the area into the open window of our library, +contemplating, I presumed, jumping into it; I raced downstairs to +stop this dangerous folly, but I was too late and, as I opened the +library-door, he had given a cat-like spring, knocking a flower- +pot down into the area, and was by my side. I lit two candles on +the writing-table and scolded him for his recklessness. He told me +had made a great deal of money by jumping from a stand on to +tables and things and once he had won L500 by jumping on to a +mantelpiece when the fire was burning. As we were talking I heard +voices in the area; Peter, with the instinct of a burglar, +instantly lay flat on the floor behind the sofa, his head under +the valance of the chintz, and I remained at the writing-table, +smoking my cigarette; this was all done in a second. The door +opened; I looked round and was blinded by the blaze of a bull's- +eye lantern. When it was removed from my face, I saw two +policemen, an inspector and my father's servant. I got up slowly +and, with my head in the air, sat upon the arm of the sofa, +blocking the only possibility of Peter's full length being seen. + +MARGOT (with great dignity): "Is this a practical joke?" + +INSPECTOR (coolly): "Not at all, madam, but it is only right to +tell you a hansom cabman informed us that, as he was passing this +house a few minutes ago, he saw a man jump into that window." + +He walked away from me and, holding his lantern over the area, +peered down and saw the broken flower-pot. I knew lying was more +than useless and, as the truth had always served me well, I said, +giving my father's servant, who looked sleepy, a heavy kick on the +instep: + +"That is quite true; a friend of mine DID jump in at that window, +about a quarter of an hour ago; but (looking down with a sweet an +modest smile) he was not a burglar ..." + +HENRY HILL (my father's servant): "How often I've told you, miss, +that, as long as Master Edward loses his latch-keys, there is +nothing to be done and something is bound to happen! One day he +will not only lose the latch-key, but his life." + +INSPECTOR: "I'm sorry to have frightened you, madam, I will now +take down your names ..." + +MARGOT (anxiously): "Oh, I see, you have to report it in the +police news, have you? Has the cabman given you his name? He ought +to be rewarded, he might have saved us all!" + +I felt that I could have strangled the cabman, but, collecting +myself, took one candle off the writing-table and, blowing the +other out, led the way to the library-door, saying slowly: + +"Margaret... Emma... Alice Tennant. Do I have to add my +occupation?" + +INSPECTOR (busily writing in a small note-book): "No, thank you." +(Turning to Hill) "Your name, please." + +My father's servant was thoroughly roused and I regretted my kick +when in a voice of thunder he said: + +"Henry Hastings Appleby Hill." + +I felt quite sure that my father would appear over the top of the +stair and then all would be over; but, by the fortune that follows +the brave, perfect silence reigned throughout the house. I walked +slowly away, while Hill led the three policemen into the hall. +When the front door had been barred and bolted, I ran down the +back stairs and said, smiling brightly: + +"I shall tell my father all about this! You did very well; good +night, Hill." + +When the coast was clear, I returned to the library with my heart +beating and shut the door. Peter had disentangled himself from the +sofa and was taking fluff off his coat with an air of happy +disengagement; I told him with emphasis that I was done for, that +my name would be ringing in the police news next day and that I +was quite sure by the inspector's face that he knew exactly what +had happened; that all this came from Peter's infernal temper, +idiotic jealousy and complete want of self-control. Agitated and +eloquent, I was good for another ten minutes' abuse; but he +interrupted me by saying, in his most caressing manner: + +"The inspector is all right, my dear! He is a friend of mine! I +wouldn't have missed this for the whole world: you were +magnificent! Which shall we reward, the policeman, the cabman or +Hill?" + +MARGOT: "Don't be ridiculous! What do you propose doing?" + +PETER (trying to kiss my hands which I had purposely put behind my +back): "I propose having a chat with Inspector Wood and then with +Hastings Appleby." + +MARGOT: "How do you know Inspector Wood, as you call him?" + +PETER: "He did a friend of mine a very good turn once." + +MARGOT: "What sort of turn?" + +PETER: "Sugar Candy insulted me at the Turf and I was knocking him +into a jelly in Brick Street, when Wood intervened and saved his +life. I can assure you he would do anything in the world for me +and I'll make it all right! He shall have a handsome present." + +MARGOT: "How vulgar! Having a brawl in Brick Street! How did you +come to be in the East-end?" + +PETER: "East-end! Why, it's next to Down Street, out of +Piccadilly." + +MARGOT: "It's very wrong to bribe the police, Peter!" + +PETER: "I'm not going to bribe him, governess! I'm going to give +him my Airedale terrier." + +MARGOT: "What! That brute that killed the lady's lap-dog?" + +PETER: "The very same!" + +MARGOT: "God help poor Wood!" + +Peter was so elated with this shattering escapade that a week +after--on the occasion of another row, in which I pointed out that +he was the most selfish man in the world--I heard him whistling +under my bedroom window at midnight. Afraid lest he should wake my +parents, I ran down in my dressing-gown to open the front door, +but nothing would induce the chain to move. It was a newly +acquired habit of the servants, started by Henry Hill from the +night he had barred out the police. Being a hopeless mechanic and +particularly weak in my fingers, I gave it up and went to the open +window in the library. I begged him to go away, as nothing would +induce me to forgive him, and I told him that my papa had only +just retired to bed. + +Peter, unmoved, ordered me to take the flower-pots off the +window-sill, or he would knock them down and make a horrible +noise, which would wake the whole house. After I had refused to do +this, he said he would very likely break his neck when he jumped, +as clearing the pots would mean hitting his head against the +window frame. Fearing an explosion of temper, I weakly removed the +flower-pots and watched his acrobatic feat with delight. + +We had not been talking on the sofa for more than five minutes +when I heard a shuffle of feet outside the library-door. I got up +with lightning rapidity and put out the two candles on the +writing-table with the palms of my hands, returning noiselessly +to Peter's side on the sofa, where we sat in black darkness, The +door opened and my father came in holding a bedroom candle in his +hand; he proceeded to walk stealthily round the room, looking at +his pictures. The sofa on which we were sitting was in the window +and had nothing behind it but tile curtains. He held his candle +high and close to every picture in turn and, putting his head +forward, scanned them with tenderness and love. I saw Peter's +idiotic hat and stick under the Gainsborough and could not resist +nudging him as "The Ladies Erne and Dillon" were slowly +approached. A candle held near one's face is the most blinding of +all things and, after inspecting the sloping shoulders and anaemic +features of the Gainsborough ladies, my father, quietly humming to +himself, returned to his bed. + +Things did not always go so smoothly with us. One night Peter +suggested that I should walk away with him from the ball and try +an American trotter which had been lent to him by a friend. As it +was a glorious night, I thought it might be rather fun, so we +walked down Grosvenor Street into Park Lane; and there stood the +buggy under a lamp. American trotters always appear to be +misshapen; they are like coloured prints that are not quite in +drawing and have never attracted me. + +After we had placed ourselves firmly in the rickety buggy, Peter +said to the man as he took the reins: + +"Let him go, please!" + +And go he did, with a curious rapid, swaying waddle. There was no +traffic and we turned into the Edgware Road towards Hendon at a +great pace, but Peter was a bad driver and after a little time +said his arms ached and he thought it was time the "damned" horse +was made to stop. + +"I'm told the only way to stop an American trotter," said he, "is +to hit him over the head." At this I took the whip out of the +socket and threw it into the road. + +Peter, maddened by my action, shoved the reins into my hands, +saying he would jump out. I did not take the smallest notice of +this threat, but slackened the reins, after which we went quite +slowly. I need hardly say Peter did not jump out, but suggested +with severity that we should go back and look for the whip. + +This was the last thing I intended to do, so when we turned I +leant back in my seat and tugged at the trotter with all my might, +and we flew home without uttering a single word. + +I was an excellent driver, but that night had taxed all my powers +and, when we pulled up at the corner of Grosvenor Square, I ached +in every limb. We were not in the habit of arriving together at +the front door; and after he had handed me down to the pavement I +felt rather awkward: I had no desire to break the silence, but +neither did I want to take away Peter's coat, which I was wearing, +so I said tentatively: + +"Shall I give you your covert-coat?" + +PETER: "Don't be childish! How can you walk back to the front door +in your ball-dress? If any one happened to be looking out of the +window, what would they think?" + +This was really more than I could bear. I wrenched off his coat +and placing it firmly on his arm, said: + +"Most people, if they are sensible, are sound asleep at this time +of the night, but I thank you all the same for your +consideration." + +We turned testily away from each other and I walked home alone. +When I reached our front door my father opened it and, seeing me +in my white tulle dress, was beside himself with rage. He asked me +if I would kindly explain what I was doing, walking in the streets +in my ball-dress at two in the morning. I told him exactly what +had happened and warned him soothingly never to buy an American +trotter; he told me that my reputation was ruined, that his was +also and that my behaviour would kill my mother; I put my arms +round his neck, told him soothingly that I had not really enjoyed +myself AT ALL and promised him that I would never do it again. By +this time my mother had come out of her bedroom and was leaning +over the staircase in her dressing-gown. She said in a pleading +voice: + +"Pray do not agitate yourself, Charlie. You've done a very wrong +action, Margot! You really ought to have more consideration for +your father: no one knows how impressionable he is. ... Please +tell Mr. Flower that we do not approve of him at all! ..." + +MARGOT: "You are absolutely right, dear mamma, and that is exactly +what I have said to him more than once. But you need not worry, +for no one saw us. Let's go to bed, darling, I'm dog-tired!" + +Peter was thoroughly inconsequent about money and a great gambler; +he told me one day in sorrow that his only chance of economising +was to sell his horses and go to India to shoot big game, +incidentally escaping his creditors. + +When Peter went to India I was very unhappy, but to please my +people I told them I would say good-bye and not write to him for a +year, a promise which was faithfully kept. + +While he was away, a young man of rank and fortune fell in love +with me out hunting. He never proposed, he only declared himself. +I liked him particularly, but his attention sat lightly on me; +this rather nettled him and he told me one day riding home in the +dark, that he was sure I must be in love with somebody else. I +said that it did not at all follow and that, if he were wise he +would stop talking about love and go and buy himself some good +horses for Leicestershire, where I was going in a week to hunt +with Lord Manners. We were staying together at Cholmondeley +Castle, in Cheshire, with my beloved friend, Winifred +Cholmondeley, [Footnote: The Marchioness of Cholmondeley.] then +Lady Rocksavage. My new young man took my advice and went up to +London, promising he would lend me "two of the best that money +could buy" to take to Melton, where he proposed shortly to follow +me. + +When he arrived at Tattersalls there were several studs of well- +known horses being sold: Jack Trotter's, Sir William Eden's and +Lord Lonsdale's. Among the latter was a famous hunter, called Jack +Madden, which had once belonged to Peter Flower; and my friend +determined he would buy it for me. Some one said to him: + +"I don't advise you to buy that horse, as you won't be able to +ride it!" + +(The fellow who related this to me added, "As you know, Miss +Tennant, this is the only certain way by which you can sell any +horse.") + +Another man said: "I don't agree with you, the horse is all +right; when it belonged to Flower I saw Miss Margot going like a +bird on it. ..." + +MY FRIEND: "Did Miss Tennant ride Flower's horses?" + +At this the other fellow said: + +"Why, my dear man, where HAVE you lived! ..." + +Some months after I had ridden Jack Madden and my own horses over +high Leicestershire, my friend came to see me and asked me to +swear on my Bible oath that I would not give him away over a +secret which he intended to tell me. + +After I had taken my solemn oath he said: "Your friend Peter +Flower in India was going to be put in the bankruptcy court and +turned out of every club in London; so I went to Sam Lewis and +paid his debt, but I don't want him to know about it and he never +need, unless you tell him." + +MARGOT: "What does he owe? And whom does he owe it to?" + +MY FRIEND: "He owes ten thousand pounds, but I'm not at liberty to +tell you who it's to; he is a friend of mine and a very good +fellow. I can assure you that he has waited longer than most +people would for Flower to pay him and I think he's done the right +thing." + +MARGOT: "Is Peter Flower a friend of yours?" + +MY FRIEND: "I don't know him by sight and have never spoken to him +in my life, but he's the man you're in love with and that is +enough for me." + +. . . . . . . + +When the year was up and Peter--for all I knew--was still in +India, I had made up my mind that, come what might, I would never, +under any circumstances, renew my relations with him. + +That winter I was staying with the Manners, as usual, and finding +myself late for a near meet cut across country. Larking is always +a stupid thing to do; horses that have never put a foot wrong +generally refuse the smallest fence and rather than upset them at +the beginning of the day you end by going through the gate, which +you had better have done at first. + +I had a mare called Molly Bawn, given to me by my fiance, who was +the finest timber-jumper in Leicestershire, and, seeing the people +at the meet watching me as I approached, I could not resist, out +of pure swagger, jumping an enormous gate. I said to myself how +disgusted Peter would have been at my vulgarity! But at the same +time it put me in good spirits. Something, however, made me turn +round; I saw a man behind me, jumping the fence beside my gate; +and there was Peter Flower! He was in tearing spirits and told me +with eagerness how completely he had turned over a new leaf and +never intended doing this, that or the other again, as far the +most wonderful thing had happened to him that ever happened to any +one. + +"I'm under a lucky star, Margie! By heavens I am! And the joy of +seeing you is SO GREAT that I won't allude to the gate, or Molly +Bawn, or you, or any thing ugly! Let us enjoy ourselves for once; +and for God's sake don't scold me. Are you glad to see me? Let me +look at you! Which do you love best, Molly Bawn or me? Don't +answer but listen." + +He then proceeded to tell me how his debts had been paid by Sam +Lewis--the money-lender--through an unknown benefactor and how he +had begged Lewis to tell who it was, but that he had refused, +having taken his oath never to reveal the name. My heart beat and +I said a remarkably stupid thing: + +"How wonderful! But you'll have to pay him back, Peter, won't +you?" + +PETER: "Oh, indeed! Then perhaps you can tell me who it is ..." + +MARGOT: "How can I?" + +PETER: "Do you know who it is?" + +MARGOT: "I do not." + +I felt the cock ought to have crowed, but I said nothing; and +Peter was so busy greeting his friends in the field that I prayed +he had not observed my guilty face. + +Some days after this there was a race meeting at Leicester. Lord +Lonsdale took a special at Oakham for the occasion and the +Manners, Peter and I all went to the races. When I walked into the +paddock, I saw my new friend--the owner of Jack Madden--talking to +the Prince of Wales. When we joined them, the Prince suggested +that we should go and see Mrs. Langtry's horse start, as it was a +great rogue and difficult to mount. + +As we approached the Langtry horse, the crowd made way for us and +I found my friend next to me; on his other side was Peter Flower +and then the Prince. The horse had his eyes bandaged and one of +his forelegs was being held by a stable-boy. When the jockey was +up and the bandage removed, it jumped into the air and gave an +extended and violent buck. I was standing so near that I felt the +draught of its kick on my hair. At this my friend gave a slight +scream and, putting his arm round me, pulled me back towards him. +A miss is as good as a mile, so after thanking him for his +protection I chatted cheerfully to the Prince of Wales. + +There is nothing so tiring as racing and we all sat in perfect +silence going home in the special that evening. + +Neither at dinner nor after had I any opportunity of speaking to +Peter, but I observed a singularly impassive expression on his +face. The next day--being Sunday--I asked him to go round the +stables with me after church; he refused, so I went alone. After +dinner I tried again to talk to him, but he would not answer; he +did not look angry, but he appeared to be profoundly sad, which +depressed me. He told Hoppy Manners he was not going to hunt that +week as he feared he would have to be in London. My heart sank. We +all went to our rooms early and Peter remained downstairs reading. +As he never read in winter I knew there was something seriously +wrong, so I went down in my tea-gown to see him. It was nearly +midnight. The room was empty and we were alone. He never looked +up. + +MARGOT: "Peter, you've not spoken to me once since the races. What +can have happened?" + +PETER: "I would rather you left me, PLEASE. ... Pray go back to +your room." + +MARGOT (sitting on the sofa beside him): "Won't you speak to me +and tell me all about it?" + +Peter put down his book, and looking at me steadily, said very +slowly: + +"I'd rather not speak to a liar!" + +I stood up as if I had been shot and said: + +"How dare you say such a thing!" + +PETER: "You lied to me." + +MARGOT: "When?" + +PETER: "You know perfectly well! And you are in love! You know you +are. Will you deny it?" + +"Oh! it's this that worries you, is it?" said I sweetly. "What +would you say if I told you I was NOT?" + +PETER: "I would say you were lying again." + +MARGOT: "Have I ever lied to you, Peter?" + +PETER: "How can I tell? (SHRUGGING HIS SHOULDERS) You have lied +twice, so I presume since I've been away you've got into the habit +of it." + +MARGOT: "Peter!" + +PETER: "A man doesn't scream and put his arm round a woman, as D-- +ly did at the races to-day, unless he is in love. Will you tell me +who paid my debt, please?" + +MARGOT: "No, I won't." + +PETER: "Was it D--ly?" + +MARGOT: "I shan't tell you. I'm not Sam Lewis; and, since I'm such +a liar, is it worth while asking me these stupid questions?" + +PETER: "Ah, Margot, this is the worst blow of my life! I see you +are deceiving me. I know who paid my debt now." + +MARGOT: "Then why ask ME? ..." + +PETER: "When I went to India I had never spoken to D--ly in my +life. Why should he have paid my debts for me? You had much better +tell me the simple truth and get it over: it's all settled and +you're going to marry him." + +MARGOT: "Since I've got into the way of lying, you might spare +yourself and me these vulgar questions." + +PETER (SEIZING MY HANDS IN ANGUISH): "Say you aren't going to +marry him ... tell me, tell me it's NOT true." + +MARGOT: "Why should I? He has never asked me to." + +After this the question of matrimony was bound to come up between +us. The first time it was talked of, I was filled with anxiety. It +seemed to put a finish to the radiance of our friendship and, +worse than that, it brought me up against my father, who had often +said to me: "You will never marry Flower; you must marry your +superior." + +Peter himself, in a subconscious way, had become aware of the +situation. One evening, riding home, he said: + +"Margie, do you see that?" + +He pointed to the spire of the Melton Church and added: + +"That is what you are in my life. I am not worth the button on +your boot!" + +To which I replied: + +"I would not say that, but I cannot find goodness for two." + +I was profundly unhappy. To live for ever with a man who was +incapable of loving any one but himself and me, who was without +any kind of moral ambition and chronically indifferent to politics +and religion, was a nightmare. + +I said to him: + +"I will marry you if you get some serious occupation, Peter, but I +won't marry an idle man; you think of nothing but yourself and +me." + +PETER: "What in the name of goodness would you have me think of? +Geography?" + +MARGOT: "You know exactly what I mean. Your power lies in love- +making, not in loving; you don't love any one but yourself." + +At this, Peter moved away from me as if I had struck him and said +in a low tense voice: + +"I am glad I did not say that. I would not care to have said such +a cat-cruel thing; but I pity the man who marries you! He will +think--as I did--that you are impulsively, throbbingly warm and +kind and gentle; and he will find that he has married a governess +and a prig; and a woman whose fire--of which she boasts so much-- +blasts his soul." + +I listened to a Peter I had never heard before, His face +frightened me. It indicated suffering. I put my head against his +and said: + +"How can I make an honest man of you, my dearest?" + +I was getting quite clever about people, as the Mrs. Bo episode +had taught me a lot. + +A short time after this conversation, I observed a dark, good- +looking woman pursuing Peter Flower at every ball and party. He +told me when I teased him that she failed to arrest his attention +and that, for the first time in my life, I flattered him by my +jealousy. I persisted and said that I did not know if it was +jealousy but that I was convinced she was a bad friend for him. + +PETER: "I've always noticed you think things bad when they don't +suit you, but why should I give up my life to you? What do you +give me in return? I'm the laughing-stock of London! But, if it is +any satisfaction to you, I will tell you I don't care for the +black lady, as you call her, and I never see her except at +parties." + +I knew Peter as well as a cat knows its way in the dark and I felt +the truth of his remark: what did I give him? But I was not in a +humour to argue. + +The lady often asked me to go and see her, but I shrank from it +and had never been inside her house. + +One day I told Peter I would meet him at the Soane Collection in +Lincoln's Inn Fields. To my surprise he said he had engaged +himself to see his sister, who had been ill, and pointed out with +a laugh that my governessing was taking root. He added: + +"I don't mind giving it up if you can spend the whole afternoon +with me." + +I told him I would not have him give up going to see his sister +for the world. + +Finding myself at a loose end, I thought I would pay a visit to +the black lady, as it was unworthy of me to have such a prejudice +against some one whom I did not know. It was a hot London day; +pale colours, thin stuffs, naked throats and large hats were +strewn about the parks and streets. + +When I arrived, the lady's bell was answered by a hall-boy and, +hearing the piano, I told him he need not announce me. When I +opened the door, I saw Peter and the dark lady sharing the same +seat in front of the open piano. She wore a black satin sleeveless +tea-gown, cut low at the throat, with a coral ribbon round her +waist, and she had stuck a white rose in her rather dishevelled +Carmen hair. I stood still, startled by her beauty and stunned by +Peter's face. She got up, charmed to see me, and expressed her joy +at the amazing luck which had brought me there that very +afternoon, as she had a wonderful Spaniard coming to play to her +after tea and she had often been told by Peter how musical I was, +etc., etc. She hoped I was not shocked by her appearance, but she +has just come back from a studio and it was too hot to expect +people to get into decent clothes. She was perfectly at her ease +and more than welcoming; before I could answer, she rallied Peter +and said she pleaded guilty of having lured him away from the path +of duty that afternoon, ending with a slight twinkle: + +"From what I'm told, Miss Margot, you would NEVER have done +anything so wicked? ..." + +I felt ice in my blood and said: + +"You needn't believe that! I've lured him away from the path of +duty for the last eight years, haven't I, Peter?" + +There was an uncomfortable silence and I looked about for a means +of escape, but it took me some little time to find one. + +I said good-bye and left the house. + +When I was alone I locked the door, flung myself on my sofa, and +was blinded by tears. Peter was right; he had said, "Why should I +give up my life to you?" Why indeed! And yet, after eight years, +this seemed a terrible ending to me. + +"What do you give me in return?" What indeed? What claim had I to +his fidelity? I thought I was giving gold for silver, but the dark +lady would have called it copper for gold. Was she prepared to +give everything for nothing? Why should I call it nothing? What +did I know of Peter's love for her? All I knew was she had taught +him to lie; and he must love her very much to do that: he had +never lied to me before. + +I went to the opera that night with my father and mother. Peter +came into our box in a state of intense misery; I could hardly +look at him. He put his hand out toward me under the programme and +I took it. + +At that moment the servant brought me a note and asked me to give +her the answer. I opened it and this was what I read: + +"If you want to do a very kind thing come and see me after the +opera to-night. Don't say no." + +I showed it to Peter, and he said, "Go." It was from the dark +lady; I asked him what she wanted me for and he said she was +terribly unhappy. + +"Ah, Peter," said I, "what HAVE you done? ..." + +PETER: "I know ... it's quite true; but I've broken it off for +ever with her." + +Nothing he could have said then would have lightened my heart. + +I scribbled, "Yes," on the same paper and gave it back to the +girl. + +When I said good night to my mother that night after the opera, I +told her where I was going. Peter was standing in the front hall +and took me in a hansom to the lady's house, saying he would wait +for me round the corner while I had my interview with her. + +It was past midnight and I felt overpoweringly tired. My beautiful +rival opened the front door to me and I followed her silently up +to her bedroom. She took off my opera-cloak and we sat down facing +each other. The room was large and dark but for a row of candles +on the mantel-piece and two high church-lights each side of a +silver pier-glass. There was a table near my chair with odds and +ends on it and a general smell of scent and flowers. I looked at +her in her blue satin nightgown and saw that she had been crying. + +"It is kind of you to have come," she said, "and I daresay you +know why I wanted to see you to-night." + +MARGOT: "No, I don't; I haven't the faintest idea!" + +THE LADY (LOOKING RATHER EMBARRASSED, BUT AFTER A MOMENT'S PAUSE): +"I want you to tell me about yourself." + +I felt this to be a wrong entry: she had sent for me to tell her +about Peter Flower and not myself; but why should I tell her about +either of us? I had never spoken of my love-affairs excepting to +my mother and my three friends--Con Manners, Frances Horner, and +Etty Desborough--and people had ceased speaking to me about them; +why should I sit up with a stranger and discuss myself at this +time of night? I said there was nothing to tell. She answered by +saying she had met so many people who cared for me that she felt +she almost knew me, to which I replied: + +"In that case, why talk about me?" + +THE LADY: "But some people care for both of us." + +MARGOT (RATHER COLDLY): "I daresay." + +THE LADY: "Don't be hard, I want to know if you love Peter Flower +. ... Do you intend to marry him?" + +The question had come then: this terrible question which my mother +had never asked and which I had always evaded! Had it got to be +answered now ... and to a stranger? + +With a determined effort to control myself I said: + +"You mean, am I engaged to be married?" + +THE LADY: "I mean what I say; are you going to marry Peter?" + +MARGOT: "I have never told him I would." + +THE LADY (VERY SLOWLY): "Remember, my life is bound up in your +answer ..." + +Her words seemed to burn and I felt a kind of pity for her. She +was leaning forward with her eyes fastened on mine and her hands +clasped between her knees. + +"If you don't love him enough to marry him, why don't you leave +him alone?" she said. "Why do you keep him bound to you? Why don't +you set him free?" + +MARGOT: "He is free to love whom he likes; I don't keep him, but I +won't share him." + +THE LADY: "You don't love him, but you want to keep him; that is +pure selfishness and vanity." + +MARGOT: "Not at all! I would give him up to-morrow and have told +him so a thousand times, if he would marry; but he is not in a +position to marry any one." + +THE LADY: "How can you say such a thing! His debts have just been +paid by God knows who--some woman, I suppose!--and you are rich +yourself. What is there to hinder you from marrying him?" + +MARGOT: "That was not what I was thinking about. I don't believe +you would understand even if I were to explain it to you." + +THE LADY: "If you were really in love you could not be so critical +and censorious." + +MARGOT: "Oh, yes, I could! You don't know me." + +THE LADY: "I love him in a way you would never understand. There +is nothing in the world I would not do for him! No pain I would +not suffer and no sacrifice I would not make." + +MARGOT: "What could you do for him that would help him?" + +THE LADY: "I would leave my husband and my children and go right +away with him." + +I felt as if she had stabbed me. + +"Leave your children! and your husband!" I said. "But how can +ruining them and yourself help Peter Flower? I don't believe for a +moment he would ever do anything so vile." + +THE LADY: "You think he loves you too much to run away with me, do +you?" + +MARGOT (with indignation): "Perhaps I hope he cares too much for +you." + +THE LADY (not listening and getting up excitedly): "What do you +know about love? I have had a hundred lovers, but Peter Flower is +the only man I have ever really cared for; and my life is at an +end if you will not give him up." + +MARGOT: "There is no question of my giving him up; he is free, I +tell you ..." + +THE LADY: "I tell you he is not! He doesn't consider himself free, +he said as much to me this afternoon ... when he wanted to break +it all off." + +MARGOT: "What do you wish me to do then? ..." + +THE LADY: "Tell Peter you don't love him in the right way, that +you don't intend to marry him; and then leave him alone." + +MARGOT: "Do you mean I am to leave him to you? ... Do you love him +in the right way?" + +THE LADY: "Don't ask stupid questions . ... I shall kill myself if +he gives me up." + +After this, I felt there was nothing more to be said. I told her +that Peter had a perfect right to do what he liked and that I had +neither the will nor the power to influence his decision; that I +was going abroad with my sister Lucy to Italy and would in any +case not see him for several weeks; but I added that all my +influence over him for years had been directed into making him the +right sort of man to marry and that all hers would of necessity +lie in the opposite direction. Not knowing quite how to say good- +bye, I began to finger my cloak; seeing my intention, she said: + +"Just wait one moment, will you? I want to know if you are as good +as Peter always tells me you are; don't answer till I see your +eyes ..." + +She took two candles off the chimneypiece and placed them on the +table near me, a little in front of my face, and then knelt upon +the ground; I looked at her wonderful wild eyes and stretched out +my hands towards her. + +"Nonsense!" I said. "I am not in the least good! Get up! When I +see you kneeling at my feet, I feel sorry for you." + +THE LADY (getting up abruptly): "For God's sake don't pity me!" + +Thinking over the situation in the calm of my room, I had no +qualms as to either the elopement or the suicide, hut I felt a +revulsion of feeling towards Peter. His lack of moral indignation +and purpose, his intractability in all that was serious and his +incapacity to improve had been cutting a deep though unconscious +division between us for years; and I determined at whatever cost, +after this, that I would say good-bye to him. + +A few days later, Lord Dufferin came to see me in Grosvenor +Square. + +"Margot," he said, "why don't you marry? You are twenty-seven; and +life won't go on treating you so well if you go on treating it +like this. As an old friend who loves you, let me give you one +word of advice. You should marry in spite of being in love, but +never because of it." + +Before I went away to Italy, Peter and I, with passion-lit eyes +and throbbing hearts, had said goodbye to each other for ever. + +The relief of our friends at our parting was so suffocating that I +clung to the shelter of my new friend, the stranger of that House +of Commons dinner. + + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE ASQUITH FAMILY TREE--HERBERT H. ASQUITH's MOTHER--ASQUITH'S +FIRST MARRIAGE; MEETS MARGOT TENNANT FOR FIRST TIME--TALK TILL +DAWN ON HOUSE OF COMMONS' TERRACE; OTHER MEETINGS--ENGAGEMENT A +LONDON SENSATION--MARRIAGE AN EVENT + + +My husband's father was Joseph Dixon Asquith, a cloth-merchant, in +Morley, at that time a small town outside Leeds. He was a man of +high character who held Bible classes for young men. He married a +daughter of William Willans, of Huddersfield, who sprang of an old +Yorkshire Puritan stock. + +He died when he was thirty-five, leaving four children: William +Willans, Herbert Henry, Emily Evelyn and Lilian Josephine. They +were brought up by their mother, who was a woman of genius. I +named my only daughter [Footnote: Princess Bibesco.] after +Goethe's mother, but was glad when I found out that her +grandmother Willans had been called Elizabeth. + +William Willans--who is dead--was the eldest of the family and a +clever little man. He taught at Clifton College for over thirty +years. + +Lilian Josephine died when she was a baby; and Evelyn--one of the +best of women--is the only near relation of my husband still +living. + +My husband's mother, old Mrs. Asquith, I never knew; my friend +Mark Napier told me that she was a brilliantly clever woman but an +invalid. She had delicate lungs, which obliged her to live on the +South coast; and, when her two sons went to the City of London +School, they lived alone together in lodgings in Islington and +were both poor and industrious. + +Although Henry's mother was an invalid she had a moral, religious +and intellectual influence over her family that cannot be +exaggerated. She was a profound reader and a brilliant talker and +belonged to what was in those days called orthodox nonconformity, +or Congregationalists. + +After my husband's first marriage he made money by writing, +lecturing and examining at Oxford. When he was called to the Bar +success did not come to him at once. + +He had no rich patron and no one to push him forward. He had made +for himself a great Oxford reputation: he was a fine scholar and +lawyer, but socially was not known by many people. + +It was said that Gladstone only promoted men by seniority and +never before knowing with precision what they were like, but in my +husband's case it was not so. + +Lord James of Hereford, then Sir Henry James, was Attorney +General, overburdened with a large private practice at the Bar; +and, when the great Bradlaugh case came on, in 1883, it was +suggested to him that a young man living on the same staircase +might devil the Affirmation Bill for him. This was the beginning +of Asquith's career: When Gladstone saw the brief for his speech, +he noted the fine handwriting and asked who had written it. Sir +Henry James, the kindest and most generous of men, was delighted +at Gladstone's observation and brought the young man to him. From +that moment both the Attorney General and the Prime Minister +marked him out for distinction; he rose without any intermediary +step of an under-secretaryship from a back-bencher to a Cabinet +Minister; and when we married in 1894 he was Home Secretary. In +1890 I cut and kept out of some newspapers this prophecy, little +thinking that I would marry one of the "New English Party." + +A NEW ENGLISH PARTY + +Amid all the worry and turmoil and ambition of Irish politics, +there is steadily growing up a little English party, of which more +will be heard in the days that are to come. This is a band of +philosophico-social Radicals--not the OLD type of laissez-faire +politician, but quite otherwise. In other words, what I may call +practical Socialism has caught on afresh with a knot of clever, +youngish members of Parliament who sit below the gangway on the +Radical side. This little group includes clever, learned, +metaphysical Mr. Haldane, one of the rising lawyers of his day; +young Sir Edward Grey, sincere, enthusiastic, with a certain gift +for oratory, and helped by a beautiful and clever wife; Mr. Sidney +Buxton, who has perhaps the most distinct genius for practical +work; and finally, though in rather loose attachment to the rest, +Mr. Asquith, brilliant, cynical, cold, clear, but with his eye on +the future. The dominant ideas of this little band tend in the +direction of moderate Collectivism--i.e., of municipal Socialism. + +I met my husband for the first time in 1891, at a dinner given by +Peter Flower's brother Cyril. [Footnote: The late Lord Battersea.] +I had never heard of him in my life, which gives some indication +of how I was wasting my time on two worlds: I do not mean this and +the next, but the sporting and dramatic, Melton in the winter and +the Lyceum in the summer. My Coquelin coachings and my dancing- +lessons had led me to rehearsals both of the ballet and the drama; +and for a short time I was at the feet of Ellen Terry and Irving. +I say "short" advisedly, for then as now I found Bohemian society +duller than any English watering-place. Every one has a different +conception of Hell and few of us connect it with flames; but stage +suppers are my idea of Hell and, with the exception of Irving and +Coquelin, Ellen Terry and Sarah Bernhardt, I have never met the +hero or heroine off the stage that was not ultimately dull. + +The dinner where I was introduced to Henry was in the House of +Commons and I sat next to him. I was tremendously impressed by his +conversation and his clean Cromwellian face. He was different from +the others and, although abominably dressed, had so much +personality that I made up my mind at once that here was a man who +could help me and would understand everything. It never crossed my +brain that he was married, nor would that have mattered; I had +always been more anxious that Peter Flower should marry than +myself, because he was thirteen years older than I was, but +matrimony was not the austere purpose of either of our lives. + +After dinner we all walked on the Terrace and I was flattered to +find my new friend by my side. Lord Battersea chaffed me in his +noisy, flamboyant manner, trying to separate us; but with tact and +determination this frontal attack was resisted and my new friend +and I retired to the darkest part of the Terrace, where, leaning +over the parapet, we gazed into the river and talked far into the +night. + +Our host and his party--thinking that I had gone home and that Mr. +Asquith had returned to the House when the division bell rang--had +disappeared; and when we finished our conversation the Terrace was +deserted and the sky light. + +We met a few days later dining with Sir Algernon West--a very dear +and early friend of mine--and after this we saw each other +constantly. I found out from something he said to me that he was +married and lived at Hampstead and that his days were divided +between 1 Paper Buildings and the House of Commons. He told me +that he had always been a shy man and in some ways this is true of +him even now; but I am glad that I did not observe it at the time, +as shy people disconcerted me: I liked modesty, I pitied timidity, +but I was embarrassed by shyness. + +I cannot truly say, however, that the word shy described my +husband at any time: he was a little gauche in movement and +blushed when he was praised, but I have never seen him nervous +with any one or embarrassed by any social dilemma. His unerring +instinct into all sorts of people and affairs--quite apart from +his intellectual temperament and learning--and his incredible lack +of vanity struck me at once. The art of making every man better +pleased with himself he had in a high degree; and he retains to +this day an incurable modesty. + +When I discovered that he was married, I asked him to bring his +wife to dinner, which he did, and directy I saw her I said: + +"I do hope, Mrs. Asquith, you have not minded your husband dining +here without you, but I rather gathered Hampstead was too far away +for him to get back to you from the House of Commons. You must +always let me know and come with him whenever it suits you." + +In making this profound and attaching friendship with the +stranger of that House of Commons dinner, I had placed myself in a +difficult position when Helen Asquith died. To be a stepwife and a +stepmother was unthinkable, but at the same time the moment had +arrived when a decision--involving a great change in my life--had +become inevitable. I had written to Peter Flower before we parted +every day for nine years--with the exception of the months he had +spent flying from his creditors in India--and I had prayed for him +every night, but it had not brought more than happiness to both of +us; and when I deliberately said good-bye to him I shut down a +page of my life which, even if I had wished to, I could never have +reopened. When Henry told me he cared for me, that unstifled inner +voice which we all of us hear more or less indistinctly told me I +would be untrue to myself and quite unworthy of life if, when such +a man came knocking at the door, I did not fling it wide open. The +rumour that we were engaged to be married caused alarm amounting +to consternation in certain circles. Both Lord Rosebery and Lord +Randolph Churchill, without impugning me in any way, deplored the +marriage, nor were they by any means alone in thinking such a +union might ruin the life of a promising politician. Some of my +own friends were equally apprehensive from another point of view; +to start my new life charged with a ready-made family of children +brought up very differently from myself, with a man who played no +games and cared for no sport, in London instead of in the country, +with no money except what he could make at the Bar, was, they +thought, taking too many risks. + +My Melton friends said it was a terrible waste that I was not +marrying a sporting man and told me afterwards that they nearly +signed a round-robin to implore me never to give up hunting, but +feared I might think it impertinent. + +The rumour of my engagement caused a sensation in the East-end of +London as well as the West. The following was posted to me by an +anonymous well-wisher: + +At the meeting of the "unemployed" held on Tower Hill yesterday +afternoon, John E. Williams, the organiser appointed by the Social +Democratic Federation, said that on the previous day they had gone +through the West-end squares and had let the "loafers" living +there know that they were alive. On the previous evening he had +seen an announcement which, at first sight, had caused tears to +run down his face, for he had thought it read, "Mr. Asquith going +to be murdered." However, it turned out that Mr. Asquith was going +to be married, and he accordingly proposed that the unemployed, +following the example of the people in the West-end, should +forward the right hon. gentleman a congratulatory message. He +moved: "That this mass meeting of the unemployed held on Tower +Hill, hearing that Mr. Asquith is about to enter the holy bonds of +matrimony, and knowing he has no sympathy for the unemployed, and +that he has lately used his position in the House of Commons to +insult the unemployed, trusts that his partner will be one of the +worst tartars it is possible for a man to have, and that his +family troubles will compel him to retire from political life, for +which he is so unfit." The reading of the resolution was followed +by loud laughter and cheers. Mr. Crouch (National Union of Boot +and Shoe Operatives) seconded the motion, which was supported by a +large number of other speakers and adopted. + +I was much more afraid of spoiling Henry's life than my own, and +what with old ties and bothers, and new ties and stepchildren, I +deliberated a long time before the final fixing of my wedding-day. + +I had never met any of his children except little Violet when I +became engaged and he only took me to see them once before we were +married, as they lived in a villa at Redhill under the charge of a +kind and careful governess; he never spoke of them except one day +when, after my asking him if he thought they would hate me and +cataloguing my grave imperfections and moderate qualifications for +the part, he stopped me and said that his eldest son, Raymond, was +remarkably clever and would be devoted to me, adding thoughtfully: + +"I think--and hope--he is ambitious." + +This was a new idea to me: we had always been told what a wicked +thing ambition was; but we were a fighting family of high spirits +and not temper, so we had acquiesced, without conforming to the +nursery dictum. The remark profoundly impressed me and I pondered +it over in my heart. I do not think, by the way, that it turned +out to be a true prophecy, but Raymond Asquith had such unusual +intellectual gifts that no one could have convicted him of lack of +ambition. To win without work, to score without an effort and to +delight without premeditation is given to few. + +One night after our engagement we were dining with Sir Henry and +Lady Campbell-Bannerman. While the women were talking and the men +drinking, dear old Mrs. Gladstone and other elderly ladies and +political wives took me on as to the duties of the spouse of a +possible Prime Minister; they were so eloquent and severe that at +the end of it my nerves were racing round like a squirrel in a +cage. + +When Mr. Gladstone came into the drawing-room I felt depressed +and, clinging to his arm, I switched him into a corner and said I +feared the ladies took me for a jockey or a ballet-girl, as I had +been adjured to give up, among other things, dancing, riding and +acting. He patted my hand, said he knew no one better fitted to be +the wife of a great politician than myself and ended by saying +that, while I was entitled to discard exaggeration in rebuke, it +was a great mistake not to take criticism wisely and in a spirit +which might turn it to good account. + +I have often thought of this when I see how brittle and +egotistical people are at the smallest disapprobation. I never get +over my surprise, old as I am, at the surly moral manners, the +lack of humbleness and the colossal personal vanity that are the +bed-rock of people's incapacity to take criticism well. There is +no greater test of size than this; but, judged by this test, most +of us are dwarfs. + +Disapproving of long engagements and wishing to escape the +cataract of advice by which my friends thought to secure both my +husband's and my own matrimonial bliss, I hurried on my marriage. +My friends and advisers made me unhappy at this time, but +fortunately for me Henry Asquith is a compelling person and, in +spite of the anxiety of the friends and relations, we were married +at St. George's, Hanover Square, on May the 10th, 1894. I doubt if +any bride ever received so many strange letters as I did. There +was one which I kept in front of me when I felt discouraged. I +shall not say who it is from, as the writer is alive: + +MY DEAR MARGOT, + +You are not different to other people except in this respect--you +have a clear, cold head, and a hot, keen heart, and you won't find +EVERYTHING; so choose what lasts, and with luck and with pluck, +marrying as you are from the highest motives, you will be repaid. +Asquith is far too good for you. He is not conventional, and will +give you a great deal of freedom. He worships you, and understands +you, and is bent on making the best of you and the life together. +You are marrying a very uncommon man--not so much intellectually-- +but he is uncommon from his Determination, Reality and +concentrated power of love. Don't pity yourself--you would not +wish to have loved Peter less--though you might wish you had +never seen him--but you must know you have allowed too much love +in your life, and must bear the consequences. Deep down in your +heart you must feel that you ought to put a stop to your present +life, and to the temptation of making people love you. Depend upon +it with your rich and warm nature you need not be afraid of not +loving Asquith intensely. By marrying him you will prove yourself +to be a woman of courage and nobility, instead of a woman who is +talked about and who is in reality self-indulgent. You are lucky +after your rather dangerous life to have found such a haven and +should bless God for it. + +In those days it was less common for people to collect in the +streets to see a wedding. The first marriage I ever saw which +collected a crowd was Lady Crewe's, but her father, Lord Rosebery, +was a Derby winner and Prime Minister and she was married in +Westminster Abbey. From Grosvenor Square to St. George's, Hanover +Square, is a short distance, but from our front door to the church +the pavements were blocked with excited and enthusiastic people. + +An old nurse of my sister Charlotte's, Jerusha Taylor, told me +that a gentleman outside St. George's had said to her, "I will +give you L10 for that ticket of yours!" and when she refused he +said, "I will give you ANYTHING YOU LIKE! I must see Margot +Tennant married!" I asked her what sort of a man he was. She +answered, + +"Oh! he was a real gentleman, ma'am! I know a gentleman when I see +him; he had a gardenia in his buttonhole, but he didn't get my +ticket!" + +Our register was signed by four Prime Ministers: Mr. Gladstone, +Lord Rosebery, Arthur Balfour and my husband. We spent the first +part of our honeymoon at Mells Park, Frome, lent to us by Sir John +and Lady Horner, and the second at Clovelly Court with our friend +and hostess, Mrs. Hamlyn. + + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ASQUITH CHILDREN BY THE FIRST MARRIAGE--MARGOT'S STEPDAUGHTER +VIOLET--MEMORY OF THE FIRST MRS. ASQUITH--RAYMOND'S BRILLIANT +CAREER--ARTHUR'S HEROISM IN THE WAR + + +I do not think if you had ransacked the world you could have found +natures so opposite in temper, temperament and outlook as myself +and my stepchildren when I first knew them. + +If there was a difference between the Tennants and Lytteltons of +laughter, there was a difference between the Tennants and Asquiths +of tears. Tennants believed in appealing to the hearts of men, +firing their imagination and penetrating and vivifying their +inmost lives. They had a little loose love to give the whole +world. The Asquiths--without mental flurry and with perfect self- +mastery--believed in the free application of intellect to every +human emotion; no event could have given heightened expression to +their feelings. Shy, self-engaged, critical and controversial, +nothing surprised them and nothing upset them. We were as zealous +and vital as they were detached and as cocky and passionate as +they were modest and emotionless. + +They rarely looked at you and never got up when any one came into +the room. If you had appeared downstairs in a ball-dress or a +bathing-gown they would not have observed it and would certainly +never have commented upon it if they had. Whether they were +glowing with joy at the sight of you or thrilled at receiving a +friend, their welcome was equally composed. They were devoted to +one another and never quarrelled; they were seldom wild and never +naughty. Perfectly self-contained, truthful and deliberate, I +never saw them lose themselves in my life and I have hardly ever +seen the saint or hero that excited their disinterested emotion. + +When I thought of the storms of revolt, the rage, the despair, the +wild enthusiasms and reckless adventures, the disputes that +finished not merely with fights, but with fists in our nursery and +schoolroom, I was stunned by the steadiness of the Asquith temper. + +Let it not be inferred that I am criticising them as they now are, +or that their attitude towards myself was at any time lacking in +sympathy. Blindness of heart does not imply hardness; and +expression is a matter of temperament or impulse; hut it was their +attitude towards life that was different from my own. They over- +valued brains, which was a strange fault, as they were all +remarkably clever. Hardly any Prime Minister has had famous +children, but the Asquiths were all conspicuous in their different +ways: Raymond and Violet the most striking, Arthur the most +capable, Herbert a poet and Cyril the shyest and the rarest. + +Cys Asquith, who was the youngest of the family, combined what was +best in all of them morally and intellectually and possessed what +was finer than brains. + +He was two, when his mother died, and a clumsy ugly little boy +with a certain amount of graceless obstinacy, with which both +Tennants and Asquiths were equally endowed. To the casual observer +he would have appeared less like me than any of my step-family, +but as a matter of fact he and I had the most in common; we shared +a certain spiritual foundation and moral aspiration that solder +people together through life. + +It is not because I took charge of him at an early age that I say +he is more my own than the others, but because, although he did +not always agree with me, he never misunderstood me. He said at +Murren one day, when he was seventeen and we had been talking +together on life and religion: + +"It must be curious for you, Margot, seeing all of us laughing at +things that make you cry." + +This showed remarkable insight for a schoolboy. When I look at his +wonderful face now and think of his appearance at the time of our +marriage, I am reminded of the Hans Andersen toad with the jewel +in its head, but the toad is no longer there. + +I have a dear friend called Bogie Harris,[Footnote: Mr. H. Harris, +of Bedford Square.] who told me that, at a ball given by Con and +Hoppy Manners, he had seen a young man whose face had struck him +so much that he looked about for some one in the room to tell him +who it was. That young man was Cyril Asquith. + +One night when he was a little boy, after I had heard him say his +prayers he asked me to read the General Confession out of his +Prayer Book to him. It was such an unusual request that I said: + +"Very well, darling, I will, but first of all I must read you what +I love best in the Prayer Book." + +To which he answered: + +"Oh, do! I should like that." + +I put a cushion behind my head and, lying down beside him, read: + +"Lighten our darkness, we beseech Thee, O Lord; and by Thy great +mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night, for the +love of Thine only Son, our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen." + +After this I read him the General Confession, opening, "We have +erred and strayed from Thy ways like lost sheep," and ending, +"that we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and sober life." +When I had finished I said to him: + +"What do you take sober to mean here, darling?" + +CYS (looking furtively at me with his little green eyes): "It does +not mean drunkenness." (A slight pause and then reflectively): "I +should say moderate living." + +I told the children one day to collect some of their toys and that +I would take them to the hospital, where they could give them away +themselves. I purposely did not say broken toys; and a few days +afterwards I was invited to the nursery. On arriving upstairs I +saw that Cys's eyes were scarlet; and set out in pathetic array +round the room was a large family of monkeys christened by him +"the Thumblekins." They were what he loved best in the world. I +observed that they were the only unbroken toys that were brought +to me; and he was eyeing his treasures with anguish in his soul. I +was so touched that I could hardly speak; and, when I put my arms +round his neck, he burst into sobs: + +"May I keep one monkey ... only one, Margot? ... PLEASE? +...PLEASE, Margot? ..." + +This was the window in his soul that has never been closed to me. +For many years during a distinguished college career he was +delicate, but since his marriage to Miss Ann Pollock--a daylight +creature of charm, beauty and goodness--he has been happy and +strong. + +My stepdaughter Violet--now Lady Bonham Carter--though intensely +feminine, would have made a remarkable man. I do not believe there +is any examination she could not have passed either at a public +school or a university. Born without shyness or trepidation, from +her youth upwards she had perfect self-possession and patience. +She loved dialectics and could put her case logically, plausibly +and eloquently; and, although quite as unemotional as her +brothers, she had more enterprise and indignation. In her youth +she was delicate, and what the French call tres personelle; and +this prevented her going through the mill of rivalry and criticism +which had been the daily bread of my girlhood. + +She had the same penetrating sense of humour as her brother +Raymond and quite as much presence of mind in retort. Her gift of +expression was amazing and her memory unrivalled. My daughter +Elizabeth and she were the only girls except myself that I ever +met who were real politicians, not interested merely in the +personal side--whether Mr. B. or C. spoke well or was likely to +get promoted--but in the legislation and administration of +Parliament; they followed and knew what was going on at home and +abroad and enjoyed friendships with most of the young and famous +men of the day. Violet Bonham Carter has, I think, a great +political future in the country if not in the Commons. She is a +natural speaker, easy, eloquent, witty, short and of imperturbable +sang-froid. + +Life in the House is neither healthy, useful nor appropriate for a +woman; and the functions of a mother and a member of Parliament +are not compatible. This was one of the reasons why my husband and +I were against giving the franchise to women. Violet is a real +mother and feels the problem acutely, but she is a real Liberal +also and, with gifts as conspicuous as hers, she must inevitably +exercise a wide-spread political influence. Her speeches in her +father's election at Paisley, in February of this year, brought +her before a general as well as intellectual audience from which +she can never retire; and, whenever she appears on a platform, the +public shout from every part of the hall calling on her to speak. + +Raymond Asquith was born on the 6th of November, 1878, and was +killed fighting against the Germans before his regiment had been +in action ten minutes, on the 15th of September, 1916. + +He was intellectually one of the most distinguished young men of +his day and beautiful to look at, added to which he was light in +hand, brilliant in answer and interested in affairs. When he went +to Balliol he cultivated a kind of cynicism which was an endless +source of delight to the young people around him; in a good- +humoured way he made a butt of God and smiled at man. If he had +been really keen about any one thing--law or literature--he would +have made the world ring with his name, but he lacked temperament +and a certain sort of imagination and was without ambition of any +kind. + +His education was started by a woman in a day-school at +Hampstead; from there he took a Winchester scholarship and he +became a scholar of Balliol. At Oxford he went from triumph to +triumph. He took a first in classical moderations in 1899; first- +class literae humaniores in 1901; first-class jurisprudence in +1902. He won the Craven, Ireland, Derby and Eldon scholarships. He +was President of the Union and became a Fellow of All Souls in +1902; and after he left Oxford he was called to the Bar in 1904. + +In spite of this record, a more modest fellow about his own +achievements never lived. + +Raymond was charming and good-tempered from his boyhood and I only +remember him once in his life getting angry with me. He had been +urged to go into politics by both his wife and his father and had +been invited by the Liberal Association of a northern town to +become their candidate. He was complaining about it one day to me, +saying how dull, how stupid, how boring the average constituents +of all electorates were; I told him I thought a closer contact +with common people would turn out not only more interesting and +delightful than he imagined, but that it would be the making of +him. He flared up at once and made me appear infinitely +ridiculous, but being on sure ground I listened with amusement and +indifference; the discussion ended amicably, neither of us having +deviated by a hair's breath from our original positions. He and I +seldom got on each other's nerves, though two more different +beings never lived. His arctic analysis of what he looked upon as +"cant" always stirred his listeners to a high pitch of enthusiasm. + +One day when he was at home for his holidays and we were all +having tea together, to amuse the children I began asking riddles. +I told them that I had only guessed one in my life, but it had +taken me three days. They asked me what it was, and I said: + +"What is it that God has never seen, that kings see seldom and +that we see every day?" + +Raymond instantly answered: + +"A joke." + +I felt that the real answer, which was "an equal," was very tepid +after this. + +In 1907 he married, from 10 Downing Street, Katherine Horner, a +beautiful creature of character and intellect, as lacking in fire +and incense as himself. Their devotion to each other and happiness +was a perpetual joy to me, as I felt that in some ways I had +contributed to it. Katherine was the daughter of Laura's greatest +friend, Frances Horner, and he met her through me. + +Raymond found in both his mother-in-law and Sir John Horner +friends capable of appreciating his fine flavour. He wrote with +ease and brilliance both prose and poetry. I will quote two of his +poems: + + IN PRAISE OF YOUNG GIRLS + + Attend, my Muse, and, if you can, approve + While I proclaim the "speeding up" of Love; + For Love and Commerce hold a common creed-- + The scale of business varies with the speed; + For Queen of Beauty or for Sausage King + The Customer is always on the wing-- + Then praise the nymph who regularly earns + Small profits (if you please) but quick returns. + Our modish Venus is a bustling minx, + But who can spare the time to woo a Sphinx? + When Mona Lisa posed with rustic guile + The stale enigma of her simple smile, + Her leisure lovers raised a pious cheer + While the slow mischief crept from ear to ear. + Poor listless Lombard, you would ne'er engage + The brisker beaux of our mercurial age + Whose lively mettle can as easy brook + An epic poem as a lingering look-- + Our modern maiden smears the twig with lime + For twice as many hearts in half the time. + Long ere the circle of that staid grimace + Has wheeled your weary dimples into place, + Our little Chloe (mark the nimble fiend!) + Has raised a laugh against her bosom friend, + Melted a marquis, mollified a Jew, + Kissed every member of the Eton crew, + Ogled a Bishop, quizzed an aged peer, + Has danced a Tango and has dropped a tear. + Fresh from the schoolroom, pink and plump and pert, + Bedizened, bouncing, artful and alert, + No victim she of vapours and of moods + Though the sky falls she's "ready with the goods"-- + Will suit each client, tickle every taste + Polite or gothic, libertine or chaste, + Supply a waspish tongue, a waspish waist, + Astarte's breast or Atalanta's leg, + Love ready-made or glamour off the peg-- + Do you prefer "a thing of dew and air"? + Or is your type Poppaea or Polaire? + The crystal casket of a maiden's dreams, + Or the last fancy in cosmetic creams? + The dark and tender or the fierce and bright, + Youth's rosy blush or Passion's pearly bite? + You hardly know perhaps; but Chloe knows, + And pours you out the necessary dose, + Meticulously measuring to scale, + The cup of Circe or the Holy Grail-- + An actress she at home in every role, + Can flout or flatter, bully or cajole, + And on occasion by a stretch of art + Can even speak the language of the heart, + Can lisp and sigh and make confused replies, + With baby lips and complicated eyes, + Indifferently apt to weep or wink, + Primly pursue, provocatively shrink, + Brazen or bashful, as the case require, + Coax the faint baron, curb the bold esquire, + Deride restraint, but deprecate desire, + Unbridled yet unloving, loose but limp, + Voluptuary, virgin, prude and pimp. + +LINES TO A YOUNG VISCOUNT, WHO DIED AT OXFORD, ON THE MORROW OF A +BUMP SUPPER (by the President of his College) + + Dear Viscount, in whose ancient blood + The blueness of the bird of March, + The vermeil of the tufted larch, + Are fused in one magenta flood. + + Dear Viscount--ah! to me how dear, + Who even in thy frolic mood + Discerned (or sometimes thought I could) + The pure proud purpose of a peer! + + So on the last sad night of all + Erect among the reeling rout + You beat your tangled music out + Lofty, aloof, viscontial. + + You struck a bootbath with a can, + And with the can you struck the bath, + There on the yellow gravel path, + As gentleman to gentleman. + + We met, we stood, we faced, we talked + While those of baser birth withdrew; + I told you of an Earl I knew; + You said you thought the wine was corked; + + And so we parted--on my lips + A light farewell, but in my soul + The image of a perfect whole, + A Viscount to the finger tips-- + + An image--Yes; but thou art gone; + For nature red in tooth and claw + Subsumes under an equal law + Viscount and Iguanodon. + + Yet we who know the Larger Love, + Which separates the sheep and goats + And segregates Scolecobrots, [1] + Believing where we cannot prove, + + Deem that in His mysterious Day + God puts the Peers upon His right, + And hides the poor in endless night, + For thou, my Lord, art more than they. + +[Footnote 1: A word from the Greek Testament meaning people who +are eaten by worms.] + +It is a commonplace to say after a man is dead that he could have +done anything he liked in life: it is nearly always exaggerated; +but of Raymond Asquith the phrase would have been true. + +His oldest friend was Harold Baker,[Footnote: The Rt. Hon. Harold +Baker.] a man whose academic career was as fine as his own and +whose changeless affection and intimacy we have long valued; but +Raymond had many friends as well as admirers. His death was the +first great sorrow in my stepchildren's lives and an anguish to +his father and me. The news of it came as a terrible shock to +every one. My husband's natural pride and interest in him had +always been intense and we were never tired of discussing him when +we were alone: his personal charm and wit, his little faults and +above all the success which so certainly awaited him. Henry's +grief darkened the waters in Downing Street at a time when, had +they been clear, certain events could never have taken place. + +When Raymond was dying on the battle-field he gave the doctor his +flask to give to his father; it was placed by the side of his bed +and never moved till we left Whitehall. + +I had not realised before how powerless a step-wife is when her +husband is mourning the death of his child; and not for the first +time I profoundly wished that Raymond had been my son. + +Among the many letters we received, this one from Sir Edward Grey, +the present Lord Grey of Fallodon, gave my husband the most +comfort: + +33 ECCLESTON SQUARE, S.W. Sept. 18, 1916. + +MY DEAR ASQUITH, + +A generation has passed since Raymond's mother died and the years +that have gone make me feel for and with you even more than I +would then. Raymond has had a brilliant and unblemished life; he +chose with courage the heroic part in this war and he has died as +a hero. + +If this life be all, it matters not whether its years be few or +many, but if it be not all, then Raymond's life is part of +something that is not made less by his death, but is made greater +and ennobled by the quality and merit of his life and death. + +I would fain believe that those who die do not suffer in the +separation from those they love here; that time is not to them +what it is to us, and that to them the years of separation be they +few or many will be but as yesterday. + +If so then only for us, who are left here, is the pain of +suffering and the weariness of waiting and enduring; the one +beloved is spared that. There is some comfort in thinking that it +is we, not the loved one, that have the harder part. + +I grieve especially for Raymond's wife, whose suffering I fear +must be what is unbearable. I hope the knowledge of how the +feelings of your friends and the whole nation, and not of this +nation only, for you is quickened and goes out to you will help +you to continue the public work, which is now more than ever +necessary, and will give you strength. Your courage I know never +fails. + +Yours affectionately, + +EDWARD GREY. + +Raymond Asquith was the bravest of the brave, nor did he ever +complain of anything that fell to his lot while he was soldiering. + +It might have been written of him: + + He died + As one that had been studied in his death + To throw away the dearest thing he own'd. + As 'twere a careless trifle. + --MACBETH, Act I., sc. iv. + +Our second son, Herbert, began his career as a lawyer. He had a +sweet and gentle nature and much originality. He was a poet and +wrote the following some years before the Great War of 1914, +through which he served from the first day to the last: + +THE VOLUNTEER + +[Footnote: Reprinted from The Volunteer and other Poems, by kind +permission of Messrs. Sidgwick & Jackson.] + + Here lies a clerk who half his life had spent + Toiling at ledgers in a city grey, + Thinking that so his days would drift away + With no lance broken in life's tournament; + Yet ever 'twixt the book and his bright eyes + The gleaming eagles of the legions came, + And horsemen, charging under phantom skies, + Went thundering past beneath the oriflamme. + + And now those waiting dreams are satisfied, + From twilight to the halls of dawn he went; + His lance is broken--but he lies content + With that high hour, he wants no recompense, + Who found his battle in the last resort, + Nor needs he any hearse to bear him hence, + Who goes to join the men at Agincourt. + +He wrote this when he was in Flanders in the war: + +THE FALLEN SPIRE (A Flemish Village) + +[Footnote: Reprinted from The Volunteer and other Poems, by kind +permission of Messrs. Sidgwick & Jackson.] + + That spire is gone that slept for centuries, + Mirrored among the lilies, calm and low; + And now the water holds but empty skies + Through which the rivers of the thunder flow. + + The church lies broken near the fallen spire, + For here, among these old and human things, + Death sweeps along the street with feet of fire, + And goes upon his way with moaning wings. + + On pavements by the kneeling herdsmen worn + The drifting fleeces of the shells are rolled; + Above the Saints a village Christ forlorn, + Wounded again, looks down upon His fold. + + And silence follows fast: no evening peace, + But leaden stillness, when the thunder wanes, + Haunting the slender branches of the trees, + And settling low upon the listless plains. + +"Beb," as we called him, married Lady Cynthia Charteris, a lovely +niece of Lady de Vesci and daughter of another beloved and +interesting friend of mine, the present Countess of Wemyss. + +Our third son, Arthur Asquith, was one of the great soldiers of +the war. He married Betty, the daughter of my greatest friend, +Lady Manners, a woman who has never failed me in affection and +loyalty. + +Arthur Asquith joined the Royal Naval Division on its formation in +September, 1914, and was attached at first to the "Anson," and +during the greater part of his service to the "Hood" Battalion. In +the early days of October, 1914, he took part in the operations at +Antwerp and, after further training at home in the camp at +Blandford, went in February, 1915, with his battalion to the +Dardanelles, where they formed part of the Second Naval Brigade. +He was in all the fighting on the Gallipoli peninsula and was +wounded, but returned to duty and was one of the last to embark on +the final evacuation of Helles, in January, 1916. + +In the following May the Naval Division joined the army in France, +becoming the 63rd Division, and the "Hood" Battalion (now +commanded by Commander Freyberg, V. C.) formed part of the 189th +Brigade. + +In the Battle of the Ancre (February, 1917) Arthur Asquith was +severely wounded and was awarded the D.S.O. + +In the following April, Commander Freyberg having been promoted to +be a Brigadier, Arthur Asquith took over the command of the "Hood" +Battalion and played a leading part in the operations against +Gavrelle, taking the mayor's house (which was the key to the +position) by assault and capturing the German garrison. It was +largely due to him that Gavrelle was taken; and he was awarded a +bar to his D.S.O. + +In October, 1917, in the Battle of Passchendaele the Naval +Division were heavily engaged. The following account of what +happened near Poelcappelle (October 26th) is taken from the +"History of the Royal Naval Division," by Sub-Lieutenants Fry and +McMillan: + +On account of the serious losses in officers, the four battalions +were getting out of hand when Commander Asquith, like the born +fighter that he is, came forward and saved the situation. He +placed his battalion in the most advantageous positions to meet +any counter-attacks that might develop. That done, in spite of +heavy artillery and machine-gun fire, he passed from end to end +of the line we were holding and superintended the consolidation of +our gains. In addition, he established liaison with the Canadians +on our right, and thus closed a breach which might have caused us +infinite trouble and been the source of our undoing. + +Arthur Asquith was recommended for the V.C. (he, in fact, received +a second bar to his D.S.O.); and these are the terms of the +official recommendation: + +Near Poelcappelle, during the operations of October 26th-27th, +1917, Commander Asquith displayed the greatest bravery, +initiative and splendid leadership, and by his reconnaissance of +the front line made under heavy fire, contributed much valuable +information which made the successful continuance of the +operations possible. During the morning of the 26th, when no news +was forthcoming of the position of the attacking troops, Commander +Asquith went forward, through heavy fire, round the front +positions, and heedless of personal danger, found out our +dispositions, got into touch with the troops on the right, and +returned after some hours with most valuable information. On the +night of the same day, he went forward alone in bright moonlight +and explored the ground in the vicinity of Varlet Farm, where the +situation was not clear. He was observed by the enemy, but, in +spite of heavy rifle and machine-gun fire directed at him, and the +fact that the going was necessarily slow, owing to the awful state +of the ground, he approached Varlet Farm then reported to be in +the hands of the enemy. Entering a concrete building alone he +found it occupied by a small British garrison, who were exhausted +and almost without ammunition and the most of them wounded. After +investigating the ground thoroughly he returned and led up three +platoons of a company of this battalion and relieved the garrison. +He superintended the disposal of the troops, putting one platoon +in the building as garrison and placing the other two platoons on +each flank. A very important position was therefore kept entirely +in our hands, owing to magnificent bravery, leadership and utter +disregard of his own personal safety. This example of bravery and +cool courage displayed throughout the operations by Commander +Asquith encouraged the men to greater efforts, and kept up their +moral. His valuable reconnaissance, the manner in which he led his +men and his determination to hold the ground gained, contributed +very largely to the success of the operations. + +On December 16th, 1917, he was appointed Brigadier to command the +189th Brigade; and a few days later, in reconnoitring the +position, he was again severely wounded. His leg had to be +amputated and he was disabled from further active service in the +war. I never saw Arthur Asquith lose his temper or think of +himself in my life. + +. . . . . . . + +I look around to see what child of which friend is left to become +the wife of my son Anthony; and I wonder whether she will be as +virtuous, loving and good-looking as my other daughters-in-law. + +We were all wonderfully happy together, but, looking back, I think +I was far from clever with my stepchildren; they grew up good and +successful independently of me. + +In consequence of our unpopularity in Peebles-shire, I had no +opportunity of meeting other young people in their homes; and I +knew no family except my own. The wealth of art and music, the +luxury of flowers and colour, the stretches of wild country both +in Scotland and high Leicestershire, which had made up my life +till I married, had not qualified me to understand children reared +in different circumstances. I would not perhaps have noticed many +trifles in my step-family, had I not been so much made of, so +overloved, caressed and independent before my marriage. + +Every gardener prunes the roots of a tree before it is +transplanted, but no one had ever pruned me. If you have been +sunned through and through like an apricot on a wall from your +earliest days, you are over-sensitive to any withdrawal of heat. +This had been clearly foreseen by my friends and they were +genuinely anxious about the happiness and future of my +stepchildren. I do not know which of us had been considered the +boldest in our marriage, my husband or myself; and no doubt step- +relationships should not be taken in hand unadvisedly, lightly, or +wantonly, but reverently, discreetly, and soberly. In every one of +the letters congratulating me there had been a note of warning. + +Mr. Gladstone wrote: + +MAY 5TH, 1894. + +You have a great and noble work to perform. It is a work far +beyond human strength. May the strength which is more than human +be abundantly granted you. + +Ever yours, W. E. G. + +I remember, on receiving this, saying to my beloved friend, Con +Manners: + +"Gladstone thinks my fitness to be Henry's wife should be prayed +for like the clergy: 'Almighty and Everlasting God, who alone +workest great marvels . ...'" + +John Morley wrote: + +95 ELM PARK GARDENS, SOUTH KENSINGTON, S.W. MARCH 7,1894. MY DEAR +MISS MARGOT, + +Now that the whirl of congratulations must be ceasing, here are +mine, the latest but not the least warm of them all. You are going +to marry one of the finest men in all the world, with a great +store of sterling gifts both of head and heart, and with a life +before him of the highest interest, importance and power. Such a +man is a companion that any woman might envy you. I daresay you +know this without my telling you. On the other part, I will not +add myself to those impertinents who--as I understand you to +report--wish you "to improve." I very respectfully wish nothing of +the sort. Few qualities are better worth leaving as they are than +vivacity, wit, freshness of mind, gaiety and pluck. Pray keep them +all. Don't improve by an atom. + +Circumstances may have a lesson or two to teach you, but 'tis only +the dull who don't learn, and I have no fear but that such a pair +have happy years in front of them. + +You ask for my blessing and you have it. Be sure that I wish you +as unclouded a life as can be the lot of woman, and I hope you +will always let me count myself your friend. I possess some +aphorisms on the married state--but they will keep. I only let +them out as occasion comes. Always yours sincerely, JOHN MORLEY. + +Looking back now on the first years of my marriage, I cannot +exaggerate the gratitude which I feel for the tolerance, patience +and loyalty that my stepchildren extended to a stranger; for, +although I introduced an enormous amount of fun, beauty and +movement into their lives, I could not replace what they had lost. + +Henry's first wife, Helen Asquith, was an exceptionally pretty, +refined woman; never dull, never artificial, and of single-minded +goodness; she was a wonderful wife and a devoted mother, but was +without illusions and even less adventurous than her children. She +told me in one of our talks how much she regretted that her +husband had taken silk and was in the House of Commons, at which I +said in a glow of surprise: + +"But surely, Mrs. Asquith, you are ambitious for your husband! +Why, he's a WONDERFUL man!" + +This conversation took place in Grosvenor Square the second time +that we met, when she brought her little girl to see me. Violet +was aged four and a self-possessed, plump, clever little creature, +with lovely hair hanging in Victorian ringlets down her back. + +The children were not like Helen Asquith in appearance, except +Raymond, who had her beautiful eyes and brow; but, just as they +had none of their father's emotion and some of his intellect, they +all inherited their mother's temperament, with the exception of +Violet, who was more susceptible to the new environment than her +brothers. The greatest compliment that was ever paid to my +appearance--and one that helped me most when I felt discouraged +in my early married life--was what Helen Asquith said to my +husband and he repeated to me: "There is something a little noble +about Margot Tennant's expression." + +If my stepchildren were patient with me, I dare not say what their +father was: there are some reservations the boldest biographer has +a right to claim; and I shall only write of my husband's +character--his loyalty, lack of vanity, freedom from self, warmth +and width of sympathy--in connection with politics and not with +myself; but since I have touched on this subject I will give one +illustration of his nature. + +When the full meaning of the disreputable General Election of +1918, with its promises and pretensions and all its silly and +false cries, was burnt into me at Paisley in this year of 1920 by +our Coalition opponent re-repeating them, I said to Henry: + +"Oh, if I had only quietly dropped all my friends of German name +when the war broke out and never gone to say good-bye to those +poor Lichnowskys, these ridiculous lies propagated entirely for +political purposes would never have been told; and this criminal +pro-German stunt could not have been started." + +To which he replied: + +"God forbid! I would rather ten thousand times be out of public +life for ever." + + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +VISIT TO WOMAN'S PRISON--INTERVIEW THERE WITH MRS. MAYBRICK--SCENE +IN A LIFER'S CELL; THE HUSBAND WHO NEVER KNEW THOUGHT WIFE MADE +MONEY SEWING--MARGOT'S PLEA THAT FAILED + + +My husband was Home Secretary when we married, and took a serious +interest in our prison system, which he found far from +satisfactory. He thought that it would be a good thing, before we +were known by sight, to pay a surprise visit to the convict-- +prisons and that, if I could see the women convicts and he could +see the men privately, he would be able to examine the conditions +under which they served their sentences better than if we were to +go officially. + +I was expecting my baby in about three months when we made this +expedition. + +Wormwood Scrubs was the promising, almost Dickens-like name of one +of our convict-prisons and, at that time, took in both men and +women. + +The governor scrutinised Henry's fine writing on our permits; he +received us dryly, but without suspicion; and we divided off, +having settled to meet at the front door after an hour and a +half's inspection. + +The matron who accompanied me was a powerful, intelligent-looking +woman of hard countenance and short speech. I put a few stupid +questions to her about the prison: how many convicts they had, if +the food was good, etc. + +She asked me if I would care to see Mrs. Maybrick, an American +criminal, who had been charged with murder, but sentenced for +manslaughter. This woman had poisoned her husband with mild +insistence by arsenic, but, as he was taking this for his health +at the time of his death, the evidence was conflicting as to where +he stopped and she began. She had the reputation of being a lady +and beautiful; and petitions for her reprieve were sent to us +signed by every kind of person from the United States. I told the +matron I would see her and was shown into her cell, where I found +her sitting on a stool against a bleak desk, at which she was +reading. I noted her fine eyes and common mouth and, apologising, +said: + +"I hope you will not mind a stranger coming to enquire how you are +getting on," adding, "Have you any complaints to make of the +prison?" + +The matron had left me and, the doors being thick, I felt pretty +sure she could not hear what we were saying. + +MRS. MAYBRICK (SHRUGGING HER SHOULDERS): "The butter here is +abominable and we are only given two books--THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS +and the Bible--and what do you say to our looking-glasses?" +(POINTING TO A LITTLE GLASS, FOUR INCHES BIG, IN A DEEP THICK +FRAME HANGING ON A PEG). "Do you know why it is so small?" + +MARGOT: "No." + +MRS. MAYBRICK: "Because the women who want to kill themselves +can't get their heels in to break the glass; if they could they +would cut their throats. The men don't have looking-glasses at +all." + +MARGOT: "Do you think they would like to have them?" + +MRS. MAYBRICK (SHRUGGING HER SHOULDERS AGAIN AND FINGERING HER +BLUE COTTON BLOUSE): "I don't suppose they care! I'm sure no one +could wish to see themselves with cropped hair and in these +hideous clothes." + +MARGOT: "I think that I could get you every kind of book, if you +like reading, and will tell me what you want." + +MRS. MAYBRICK (with a sudden laugh and looking at me with a +contemptuous expression which made my heart ache): "Oh, no, you +couldn't! Never mind me! But you might tell them about the +butter." + +I did not find Mrs. Maybrick sympathique and shortly after this +rejoined the matron. It was the first time I had seen a prison and +my heart and mind were moved as we went from cell to cell nodding +to the grey occupants. + +"Have you any very bad cases?" I asked. "I mean any woman who is +difficult and unhappy?" + +MATRON: "Yes, there is one woman here who has been sitting on the +floor for the last three days and, except a little water, I don't +think she has swallowed a mouthful of food since she came in. She +is a violent person and uses foul language. I do not think you had +better see her." + +MARGOT: "Thank you, I am not at all afraid. Please take me to her +cell." + +MATRON (still reluctant and eyeing my figure): "She may not speak +to you, but if she does it might give you a shock. Do you think +you are wise to go in your present condition?" + +MARGOT: "Oh, that's all right, thanks! I am not easily shocked." + +When we came to the cell, I took the precaution of telling the +matron she could leave me, as after this visit I should have to +join my husband and I could find my way to the front hall by +myself. She opened the door in silence and let me in. + +Crouching on the stone floor, in an animal attitude, I saw a +woman. She did not look up when I went in nor turn when I shut the +door. Her eyebrows almost joined above a square-tipped nose; and +her eyes, shaded by long black lashes, were fixed upon the ground. +Her hair grew well, out of a beautiful forehead, and the red curve +of her mouth gave expression to a wax-like face. I had never seen +a more striking-looking creature. + +After my usual apology and a gentle recitative of why I had come, +she turned what little I could see of her face away from me and +whatever I suggested after that was greeted with impenetrable +silence. + +At last I said to her: + +"It is so difficult for me to stand and talk while you are sitting +on the ground. Won't you get up?" + +No answer. At this--being an active woman--I sat down beside her +on the stone floor and took her hand in both of mine. She did not +withdraw it, but lifted her lashes to look at me. I noted the +sullen, exhausted expression in her grey eyes; my heart beat at +the beauty of her face. + +"Why don't you speak to me?" I said. "I might, for all you know, +be able to do a great deal for you." + +This was greeted by a faint gleam and a prolonged shake of the +head. + +MARGOT: "You look very young. What is it you did, that brought you +into this prison," + +My question seemed to surprise her and after a moment's silence +she said: + +"Don't you know why I am sentenced?" + +MARGOT: "No; and you need not tell me if you don't want to. How +long are you here for?" + +THE WOMAN (in a penetrating voice): "Life!" + +MARGOT: "That's impossible; no one is punished for life unless +they commit murder; and even then the sentence is always +shortened." + +THE WOMAN: "Shortened in time for what? For your death and burial? +Perhaps you don't know how kind they are to us here! No one is +allowed to die in prison! But by the time your health is gone, +your hair white and your friends are dead, your family do not need +you and all that can be done for you is done by charity. You die +and your eyes are closed by your landlady." + +MARGOT: "Tell me what you did." + +THE WOMAN: "Only what all you fashionable women do every day ..." + +MARGOT: "What?" + +THE WOMAN: "I helped those who were in trouble to get rid of their +babies." + +MARGOT: "Did you take money for it?" + +THE WOMAN: "Sometimes I did it for nothing." + +MARGOT: "What sort of women did you help?" + +THE WOMAN: "Oh, quite poor women!" + +MARGOT: "When you charged them, how much money did you ask for?" + +THE WOMAN: "Four or five pounds and often less." + +MARGOT: "Was your husband a respectable man and did he know +anything about it?" + +THE WOMAN: "My husband was highly respected. He was a stone-mason, +and well to do, and knew nothing at all till I was arrested. ... +He thought I made money sewing." + +MARGOT: "Poor man, how tragic!" + +After this rather stupid ejaculation of mine, she relapsed into a +frozen silence and I got up off the ground and asked her if she +liked books. No answer. If the food was good? No answer. If her +bed was clean and comfortable? But all my questions were in vain. +At last she broke the silence by saying: + +"You said just now that you might be able to help me. There is +only one thing in the world that I want, and you could not help to +get it . ... No one can help me ..." + +MARGOT: "Tell me what you want. How can I or any one else help you +while you sit on the ground, neither speaking nor eating? Get up +and I will listen to you; otherwise I shall go away." + +After this she got up stiffly and lifted her arms in a stretch +above her head, showing the outline of her fine bust. I said to +her: + +"I would like to help you." + +THE WOMAN: "I want to see one person and only one. I think of +nothing else and wonder night and day how it could be managed." + +MARGOT: "Tell me who it is, this one person, that you think of and +want so much to see." + +THE WOMAN: "I want to see Mrs. Asquith." + +MARGOT (dumb with surprise): "Why?" + +THE WOMAN: "Because she is only just married and will never again +have as much influence over her husband as she has now; and I am +told she is kind ..." + +MARGOT (moving towards her): "I am Mrs. Asquith." + +At this the woman gave a sort of howl and, shivering, with her +teeth set, flung herself at my feet and clasped my ankles with an +iron clutch. I should have fallen, but, loosening her hold with +great rapidity, she stood up and, facing me, held me by my +shoulders. The door opened and the matron appeared, at which the +woman sprang at her with a tornado of oaths, using strange words +that I had never heard before. I tried to silence her, but in +vain, so I told the matron that she might go and find out if my +husband was ready for me. She did not move and seemed put out by +my request. + +"I really think," she said, "that you are extremely foolish +risking anything with this woman.' + +THE WOMAN (in a penetrating voice): "You clear out and go to hell +with you! This person is a Christian, and you are not! You are a-- +----!" + +I put my hand over her mouth and said I would leave her for ever +if she did not stop swearing. She sat down. I turned to the matron +and said: + +"You need not fear for me, thank you; we prefer being left alone." + +When the matron had shut the door, the woman sprang up and, +hanging it with her back, remained with arms akimbo and her legs +apart, looking at me in defiance. I thought to myself, as I +watched her resolute face and strong, young figure, that, if she +wanted to prevent me getting out of that room alive, she could +easily do so. + +THE WOMAN: "You heard what I said, that you would never have as +much influence with your husband as you have now, so just listen. +He's all-powerful and, if he looks into my case, he will see that +I am innocent and ought to be let out. The last Home Secretary was +not married and never took any interest in us poor women." + +Hearing the matron tapping at the door and feeling rather anxious +to get out, I said: + +"I give you my word of honour that I will make my husband read up +all your case. The matron will give me your name and details, but +I must go now." + +THE WOMAN (with a sinister look): "Oh, no, you don't! You stay +here till I give you the details: what does a woman like that care +for a woman like me?" (throwing her thumb over her shoulder +towards the matron behind the door). "What does she know about +life?" + +MARGOT: "You must let me open the door and get a pencil and +paper." + +THE WOMAN: "The old lady will do it for you while I give you the +details of my case. You have only got to give her your orders. +Does she know who you are?" + +MARGOT: "No; and you must not tell her, please. If you will trust +me with your secret, I will trust you with mine; but you must let +me out first if I am to help you." + +With a lofty wave of my hand, but without taking one step forward, +I made her move away from the door, which I opened with a feeling +of relief. The matron was in the passage and, while she was +fetching a pencil, the woman, standing in the doorway of her cell, +told me in lowered tones how cruelly unlucky she had been in life; +what worthless, careless girls had passed through her hands; and +how they had died from no fault of hers, but through their own +ignorance. She ended by saying: + +"There is no gratitude in this world ..." + +When the matron came back, she was much shocked at seeing me kiss +the convict. + +I said, "Good-bye," and never saw her again. + +My husband looked carefully into her case, but found that she was +a professional abortionist of the most hopeless type. + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MARGOT'S FIRST BABY AND ITS LOSS--DANGEROUS ILLNESS--LETTER FROM +QUEEN VICTORIA--SIR WILLIAM HARCOURT'S PLEASANTRIES--ASQUITH +MINISTRY FALLS--VISIT FROM DUCHESS D'AOSTA + + +Sir John Williams [Footnote: Sir John Williams, of Aberystwyth, +Wales.] was my doctor and would have been a remarkable man in any +country, but in Wales he was unique. He was a man of heart without +hysteria and both loyal and truthful. + +On the 18th of May, 1895, my sisters Charlotte and Lucy were +sitting with me in my bedroom. I will quote from my diary the +account of my first confinement and how I got to know him: + +"I began to feel ill. My Gamp, an angular-faced, admirable old +woman called Jerusha Taylor--'out of the Book of Kings'--was +bustling about preparing for the doctor. Henry was holding my +hands and I was sobbing in an arm-chair, feeling the panic of pain +and fear which no one can realise who has not had a baby. + +"When Williams arrived, I felt as if salvation must be near; my +whole soul and every beat of my heart went out in dumb appeal to +him, and his tenderness on that occasion bred in me a love and +gratitude which never faded, but was intensified by all I saw of +him afterwards. He seemed to think a narcotic would calm my +nerves, but the sleeping-draught might have been water for all +the effect it had upon me, so he gave me chloroform. The room grew +dark; grey poppies appeared to be nodding at me--and I gasped: + +"'Oh, doctor, DEAR doctor, stay with me to-night, just THIS one +night, and I will stay with you whenever you like!' + +"But Williams was too anxious, my nurse told me, to hear a word I +said. + +"At four o'clock in the morning, Henry went to fetch the +anaesthetist and in his absence Williams took me out of +chloroform. Then I seemed to have a glimpse of a different world: +if PAIN is evil, then it was HELL; if not, I expect I got nearer +Heaven than I have ever been before . ... + +"I saw Dr. Bailey at the foot of the bed, with a bag in his hand, +and Charty's outline against the lamp; then my head was placed on +the pillow and a black thing came between me and the light and +closed over my mouth, a slight beating of carpets sounded in my +brain and I knew no more . ... + +"When I came to consciousness about twelve the next morning, I saw +Charty looking at me and I said to her in a strange voice: + +"'I can't have any more pain, it's no use.' + +"CHARTY: 'No, no, darling, you won't have any more.' (SILENCE.) + +"MARGOT: 'But you don't mean it's all over?' + +"CHARTY (soothingly): 'Go to sleep, dearest.' + +"I was so dazed by chloroform that I could hardly speak. Later on +the nurse told me that the doctor had had to sacrifice my baby and +that I ought to be grateful for being spared, as I had had a very +dangerous confinement. + +"When Sir John Williams came to see me, he looked white and tired +and, finding my temperature was normal, he said fervently: + +"'Thank you, Mrs. Asquith.' + +"I was too weak and uncomfortable to realise all that had +happened; and what I suffered from the smallest noise I can hardly +describe. I would watch nurse slowly approaching and burst into a +perspiration when her cotton dress crinkled against the chintz of +my bed. I shivered with fear when the blinds were drawn up or the +shutters unfastened; and any one moving up or down stairs, placing +a tumbler on the marble wash-hand-stand or reading a newspaper +would bring tears into my eyes." + +In connection with what I have quoted out of my diary here it is +not inappropriate to add that I lost my babies in three out of my +five confinements. These poignant and secret griefs have no place +on the high-road of life; but, just as Henry and I will stand +sometimes side by side near those little graves unseen by +strangers, so he and I in unobserved moments will touch with one +heart an unforgotten sorrow. + +Out of the many letters which I received, this from our intimate +and affectionate friend, Lord Haldane, was the one I liked best: + +MY DEAR FRIEND, + +I cannot easily tell you how much touched I was in the few minutes +I spent talking to you this afternoon, by what I saw and what you +told me. I left with the sense of witnessing triumph in failure +and life come through death. The strength that is given at such +times arises not from ignoring loss, or persuading oneself that +the thing is not that IS; but from the resolute setting of the +face to the East and the taking of one step onwards. It is the +quality we touch--it may be but for a moment--not the quantity we +have, that counts. "All I could never be, all that was lost in me +is yet there--in His hand who planned the perfect whole." That was +what Browning saw vividly when he wrote his Rabbi Ben Ezra. You +have lost a great joy. But in the deepening and strengthening the +love you two have for each other you have gained what is rarer and +better; it is well worth the pain and grief--the grief you have +borne in common--and you will rise stronger and freer. + +We all of us are parting from youth, and the horizon is narrowing, +but I do not feel any loss that is not compensated by gain, and I +do not think that you do either. Anything that detaches one, that +makes one turn from the past and look simply at what one has to +do, brings with it new strength and new intensity of interest. I +have no fear for you when I see what is absolutely and +unmistakably good and noble obliterating every other thought as I +saw it this afternoon. I went away with strengthened faith in what +human nature was capable of. + +May all that is highest and best lie before you both. + +Your affec. friend, + +R. B. HALDANE. + +I was gradually recovering my health when on May the 21st, 1895, +after an agonising night, Sir John Williams and Henry came into my +bedroom between five and six in the morning and I was told that I +should have to lie on my back till August, as I was suffering from +phlebitis; but I was too unhappy and disappointed to mind. It was +then that my doctor, Sir John Williams, became my friend as well +as my nurse, and his nobility of character made him a powerful +influence in my life. + +To return to my diary: + +"Queen Victoria took a great interest in my confinement, and wrote +Henry a charming letter. She sent messengers constantly to ask +after me and I answered her myself once, in pencil, when Henry was +at the Home Office. + +"I was convalescing one day, lying as usual on my bed, my mind a +blank, when Sir William Harcourt's card was sent up to me and my +door was darkened by his huge form. + +I had seen most of my political and other friends while I was +convalescing: Mr. Gladstone, Lord Haldane, Mr. Birrell, Lord +Spencer, Lord Rosebery, the Archbishop of Canterbury, John Morley, +Arthur Balfour, Sir Alfred Lyall and Admiral Maxse; and I was +delighted to see Sir William Harcourt. When he came into my room, +he observed my hunting-crops hanging on the wall from a rack, and +said: + +"I am glad to see those whips! Asquith will be able to beat you if +you play fast and loose with him. That little tight mouth of his +convinces me he has the capacity to do it. + +"After my nurse had left the room, he expressed surprise that I +should have an ugly woman near me, however good she might be, and +told me that his son, Bobby, had been in love with his nurse and +wrote to her for several years. He added, in his best Hanoverian +vein: + +"'I encourage my boys all I can in this line; it promises well for +their future.'" + +"After some talk, Mr. John Morley's card was brought up and, +seeing Sir William look rather subdued, I told the servant to ask +him to wait in my boudoir for a few minutes and assured my guest +that I was in no hurry for him to go; but Harcourt began to fidget +about and after a little he insisted on John Morley coming up. We +had a good talk a trots, starting by abusing men who minded other +people's opinion or what the newspapers said of them. Knowing, as +I did, that both of them were highly sensitive to the Press, I +encouraged the conversation. + +"JOHN MORLEY: 'I can only say I agree with what Joe once said to +me, "I would rather the newspapers were for than against me."' + +"SIR WILLIAM: 'My dear chap, you would surely not rather have the +DAILY CHRONICLE on your side. Why, bless my soul, our party has +had more harm done it through the DAILY CHRONICLE than anything +else!' + +"MARGOT: Do you think so? I think its screams, though pitched a +little high, are effective!' + +"JOHN MORLEY: 'Oh, you like Massingham, of course, because your +husband is one of his heroes.' + +"SIR WILLIAM: 'Well, all I can say is he always abuses me and I am +glad of it.' + +"JOHN MORLEY: 'He abuses me, too, though not, perhaps, quite so +often as you!' + +"MARGOT: 'I would like him to praise me. I think his descriptions +of the House of Commons debates are not only true and brilliant +but fine literature; there is both style and edge in his writing +and I rather like that bitter-almond flavour! How strangely the +paper changed over to Lord Rosebery, didn't it?' + +"Feeling this was ticklish ground, as Harcourt thought that he and +not Rosebery should have been Prime Minister, I turned the talk on +to Goschen. + +"SIR WILLIAM: 'It is sad to see the way Goschen has lost his hold +in the country; he has not been at all well treated by his +colleagues.' + +"This seemed to me to be also rather risky, so I said boldly that +I thought Goschen had done wonders in the House and country, +considering he had a poor voice and was naturally cautious. I told +them I loved him personally and that Jowett at whose house I first +met him shared my feeling in valuing his friendship. After this he +took his departure, promising to bring me roses from Malwood. + +"John Morley--the most fastidious and fascinating of men--stayed +on with me and suggested quite seriously that, when we went out of +office (which might happen any day), he and I should write a novel +together. He said that, if I would write the plot and do the +female characters, he would manage the men and politics. + +I asked if he wanted the old Wilkie Collins idea of a plot with a +hundred threads drawn into one woof, or did he prefer modern +nothingness, a shred of a story attached to unending analysis and +the infinitely little commented upon with elaborate and +pretentious humour. He scorned the latter. + +I asked him if he did not want to go permanently away from +politics to literature and discussed all his wonderful books and +writings. I chaffed him about the way he had spoken of me before +our marriage, in spite of the charming letter he had written, how +it had been repeated to me that he had said my light-hearted +indiscretions would ruin Henry's career; and I asked him what I +had done since to merit his renewed confidence. + +"He did not deny having criticised me, for although 'Honest John' +--the name by which he went among the Radicals--was singularly ill- +chosen, I never heard of Morley telling a lie. He was quite +impenitent and I admired his courage. + +"After an engrossing conversation, every moment of which I loved, +he said good-bye to me and I leant back against the pillow and +gazed at the pattern on the wall. + +"Henry came into my room shortly after this and told me the +Government had been beaten by seven in a vote of censure passed on +Campbell-Bannerman in Supply, in connection with small arms +ammunition. I looked at him wonderingly and said: + +"'Are you sad, darling, that we are out?' + +"To which he replied: + +"'Only for one reason. I wish I had completed my prison reforms. I +have, however, appointed the best committee ever seen, who will go +on with my work. Ruggles-Brise, the head of it, is a splendid +little fellow!' + +"At that moment he received a note to say he was wanted in the +House of Commons immediately, as Lord Rosebery had been sent for +by the Queen. This excited us much and, before he could finish +telling me what had happened, he went straight down to Westminster +. ... John Morley had missed this fateful division, as he was +sitting with me, and Harcourt had only just arrived at the House +in time to vote. + +"Henry returned at 1 a.m. and came to say good night to me: he +generally said his prayers by my bedside. He told me that St. John +Brodrick's motion to reduce C. B.'s salary by L100 had turned the +Government out; that Rosebery had resigned and gone straight down +to Windsor; that Campbell-Bannerman was indignant and hurt; that +few of our men were in the House; and that Akers Douglas, the Tory +Whip, could not believe his eyes when he handed the figures to Tom +Ellis, our chief Whip, who returned them to him in silence. + +"The next morning St. John Brodrick came to see me, full of +excitement and sympathy. He was anxious to know if we minded his +being instrumental in our downfall; but I am so fond of him that, +of course, I told him that I did not mind, as a week sooner or +later makes no difference and St. John's division was only one out +of many indications in the House and the country that our time was +up. Henry came back from the Cabinet in the middle of our talk and +shook his fist in fun at 'our enemy.' He was tired, but good- +humoured as ever. + +"At 3:30 Princess Helene d'Orleans came to see me and told me of +her engagement to the Due d'Aosta. She looked tall, black and +distinguished. She spoke of Prince Eddy to me with great +frankness. I told her I had sometimes wondered at her devotion to +one less clever than herself. At this her eyes filled with tears +and she explained to me how much she had been in love and the +sweetness and nobility of his character. I had reason to know the +truth of what she said when one day Queen Alexandra, after talking +to me in moving terms of her dead son, wrote in my Prayer Book: + +"Man looketh upon the countenance, but God upon the heart. + +"Helene adores the Princess of Wales [Footnote: Queen Alexandra.] +but not the Prince! [Footnote: King Edward VII.] and says the +latter's rudeness to her brother, the Duc d'Orleans, is terrible. +I said nothing, as I am devoted to the Prince and think her +brother deserves any ill-treatment he gets. I asked her if she was +afraid of the future: a new country and the prospect of babies, +etc. She answered that d'Aosta was so genuinely devoted that it +would make everything easy for her. + +"'What would you do if he were unfaithful to you?' I asked. + +"PRINCESS HELENE: 'Oh! I told Emanuel. ... I said, "You see? I +leave you ... If you are not true to me, I instantly leave you," +and I should do so at once.' + +"She begged me never to forget her, but always to pray for her. + +"'I love you,' she said, 'as every one else does'; and with a warm +embrace she left the room. + +"She came of a handsome family: Blowitz's famous description,'de +loin on dirait un Prussien, de pres un imbecile,' was made of a +near relation of the Duchesse d'Aosta." + +With the fall of the Government my diary of that year ceases to +have the smallest interest. + + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +MARGOT IN 1906 SUMS UP HER LIFE; A LOT OF LOVE-MAKING, A LITTLE +FAME AND MORE ABUSE--A REAL MAN AND GREAT HAPPINESS + + +I will finish with a character-sketch of myself copied out of my +diary, written nine weeks before the birth of my fifth and last +baby in 1906, and like everything else that I have quoted never +intended for the public eye: + +"I am not pretty, and I do not know anything about my expression, +although I observe it is this that is particularly dwelt upon if +one is sufficiently plain; but I hope, when you feel as kindly +towards your fellow-creatures as I do, that some of that warmth +may modify an otherwise bright and rather knifey CONTOUR. + +"My figure has remained as it was: slight, well-balanced and +active. Being socially courageous and not at all shy, I think I +can come into a room as well as many people of more appearance and +prestige. I do not propose to treat myself like Mr. Bernard Shaw +in this account. I shall neither excuse myself from praise, nor +shield myself from blame, but put down the figures as accurately +as I can and leave others to add them up. + +"I think I have imagination, born not of fancy, but of feeling; a +conception of the beautiful, not merely in poetry, music, art and +nature, but in human beings. I have insight into human nature, +derived not only from a courageous experience, but also from +imagination; and I have a clear though distant vision, down dark, +long and often divergent avenues, of the ordered meaning of God. I +take this opportunity of saying my religion is a vibrating reality +never away from me; and this is all I shall write upon the +subject. + +"It is difficult to describe what one means by imagination, but I +think it is more than inventiveness, or fancy. I remember +discussing the question with John Addington Symonds and, to give +him a hasty illustration of what I meant, I said I thought naming +a Highland regiment 'The Black Watch' showed a HIGH degree of +imagination. He was pleased with this; and as a personal +testimonial I may add that both he and Jowett told me that no one +could be as good a judge of character as I was who was without +imagination. In an early love-letter to me, Henry wrote: + +"Imaginative insight you have more than any one I have ever met! + +"I think I am deficient in one form of imagination; and Henry will +agree with this. I have a great longing to help those I love: this +leads me to intrepid personal criticism; and I do not always know +what hurts my friends' feelings. I do not think I should mind +anything that I have said to others being said to me, but one +never can tell; I have a good, sound digestion and personally +prefer knowing the truth; I have taken adverse criticism pretty +well all my life and had a lot of it; but by some gap I have not +succeeded in making my friends take it well. I am not vain or +touchy; it takes a lot to offend me; but when I am hurt the scar +remains. I feel differently about people who have hurt me; my +confidence has been shaken; I hope I am not ungenerous, but I fear +I am not really forgiving. Worldly people say that explanations +are a mistake; but having it out is the only chance any one can +ever have of retaining my love; and those who have neither the +courage, candour nor humbleness to say they are wrong are not +worth loving. I am not afraid of suffering too much in life, but +much more afraid of feeling too little; and quarrels make me +profoundly unhappy. One of my complaints against the shortness of +life is that there is not time enough to feel pity and love for +enough people. I am infinitely compassionate and moved to my +foundations by the misfortunes of other people. + +"As I said in my 1888 character-sketch, truthfulness with me is +hardly a virtue, but I cannot discriminate between truths that +need and those that need not be told. Want of courage is what +makes so many people lie. It would be difficult for me to say +exactly what I am afraid of. Physically and socially not much; +morally, I am afraid of a good many things: reprimanding servants, +bargaining in shops; or to turn to more serious matters, the loss +of my health, the children's or Henry's. Against these last +possibilities I pray in every recess of my thoughts. + +"With becoming modesty I have said that I am imaginative, loving +and brave! What then are my faults? + +"I am fundamentally nervous, impatient, irritable and restless. +These may sound slight shortcomings, but they go to the +foundation of my nature, crippling my activity, lessening my +influence and preventing my achieving anything remarkable. I wear +myself out in a hundred unnecessary ways, regretting the trifles I +have not done, arranging and re-arranging what I have got to do +and what every one else is going to do, till I can hardly eat or +sleep. To be in one position for long at a time, or sit through +bad plays, to listen to moderate music or moderate conversation is +a positive punishment to me. I am energetic and industrious, but I +am a little too quick; I am DRIVEN along by my temperament till I +tire myself and every one else. + +"I did not marry till I was thirty. This luckily gave me time to +read; and I collected nearly a thousand books of my own before I +married. If I had had real application--as all the Asquiths have-- +I should by now be a well-educated woman; but this I never had. I +am not at all dull, and never stale, but I don't seem to be able +to grind at uncongenial things. I have a good memory for books and +conversations, but bad for poetry and dates; wonderful for faces +and pitiful for names. + +"Physically I have done pretty well for myself. I ride better than +most people and have spent or wasted more time on it than any +woman of intellect ought to. I have broken both collar-bones, all +my ribs and my knee-cap; dislocated my jaw, fractured my skull, +gashed my nose and had five concussions of the brain; but--though +my horses are to be sold next week [Footnote: My horses were sold +at Tattersalls, June 11th, 1906.]--I have not lost my nerve. I +dance, drive and skate well; I don't skate very well, but I dance +really well. I have a talent for drawing and am intensely musical, +playing the piano with a touch of the real thing, but have +neglected both these accomplishments. I may say here in self- +defence that marriage and five babies, five step-children and a +husband in high politics have all contributed to this neglect, but +the root of the matter lies deeper: I am restless. + +"After riding, what I have enjoyed doing most in my life is +writing. I have written a great deal, but do not fancy publishing +my exercises. I have always kept a diary and commonplace books and +for many years I wrote criticisms of everything I read. It is +rather difficult for me to say what I think of my own writing. +Arthur Balfour once said that I was the best letter-writer he +knew; Henry tells me I write well; and Symonds said I had +l'oreille juste; but writing of the kind that I like reading I +cannot do: it is a long apprenticeship. Possibly, if I had had +this apprenticeship forced upon me by circumstances, I should have +done it better than anything else. I am a careful critic of all I +read and I do not take my opinions of books from other people; I +have not got 'a lending-library mind' as Henry well described +that of a friend of ours. I do not take my opinions upon anything +from other people; from this point of view--not a very high one--I +might be called original. + +"When I read Arthur Balfour's books and essays, I realised before +I had heard them discussed what a beautiful style he wrote. +Raymond, whose intellectual taste is as fine as his father's, +wrote in a paper for his All Souls Fellowship that Arthur had the +finest style of any living writer; and Raymond and Henry often +justify my literary verdicts. + +"From my earliest age I have been a collector: not of anything +particularly valuable, but of letters, old photographs of the +family, famous people and odds and ends. I do not lose things. Our +cigarette ash-trays are plates from my dolls' dinner-service; I +have got china, books, whips, knives, match-boxes and clocks given +me since I was a small child. I have kept our early copy-books, +with all the family signatures in them, and many trifling +landmarks of nursery life. I am painfully punctual, tidy and +methodical, detesting indecision, change of plans and the egotism +that they involve. I am a little stern and severe except with +children: for these I have endless elasticity and patience. Many +of my faults are physical. If I could have chosen my own life-- +more in the hills and less in the traffic--I should have slept +better and might have been less overwrought and disturbable. But +after all I may improve, for I am on a man-of-war, as a friend +once said to me, which is better than being on a pirate-ship and +is a profession in itself. + +"Well, I have finished; I have tried to relate of my manners, +morals, talents, defects, temptations, and appearance as +faithfully as I can; and I think there is nothing more to be said. +If I had to confess and expose one opinon of myself which might +differentiate me a little from other people, I should say it was +my power of love coupled with my power of criticism, but what I +lack most is what Henry possesses above all men: equanimity, +moderation, self-control and the authority that comes from a +perfect sense of proportion. I can only pray that I am not too old +or too stationary to acquire these. + +MARGOT ASQUITH. + +"P.S. This is my second attempt to write about myself and I am not +at all sure that my old character-sketch of 1888 is not the better +of the two--it is more external--but, after all, what can one say +of one's inner self that corresponds with what one really is or +what one's friends think one is? Just now I am within a few weeks +of my baby's birth and am tempted to take a gloomy view. I am +inclined to sum up my life in this way: + +"'An unfettered childhood and triumphant youth; a lot of love- +making and a little abuse; a little fame and more abuse; a real +man and great happiness; the love of children and seventh heaven; +an early death and a crowded memorial service.' + +"But perhaps I shall not die, but live to write another volume of +this diary and a better description of an improved self." + + + + + +THE END OF BOOK TWO + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of Margot Asquith, An Autobiography: Volumes I & II +by Margot Asquith + diff --git a/4321.zip b/4321.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ff2e942 --- /dev/null +++ b/4321.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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