'- 9 - TWO BOOKS OF REMINISCENCES. Grain or Chaff? The Autobiography of a Police Magistrate. By A. C. PI.OWDEN. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, with Photogravure Frontispiece. i6s. net. Harry Furniss at Home. By HIMSELF. Fully Illustrated by the Author. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt. i6s. net. LONDON: T. FlSHER UNWIN. OLD TIMES AND NEW BY J. GEORGE TETLEY, D.D. MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD RESIDENTIARY CANON OF BRISTOL LONDON T. FISHER UNWIN PATERNOSTER SQUARE 1904 (All rights reserved.) TO THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER, LOYAL, LOVING, BRAVE. IN the first part of this book I have collected some fragments of family history as it was made in the eventful years that closed the eighteenth century, and during the earlier part of the century that followed. In the latter part I have told something of various persons with whom the course of my life has brought me into relation. But I ask my readers very carefully to note two things. I have not written my own life, for indeed there is nothing in the everyday story of an ordinary person like myself to be told. Nor have I written of friends that are alive. And this for an obvious reason. To write of all would be impossible ; to make a selection would be invidious. So scarcely anything will be found as to those who are still with us. It 2067339 vi PREFACE is most needful to emphasise this point, as I can otherwise well fancy the amazement of any who know me, and may chance to read these pages, at the absence of names that are to me in life, through their love and their unmerited kindness, surely as " household words." J. G. T. Contents PART I WHILE OLD TIMES LAST CHAPTER PAGE I. AS THE EIGHTEENTH WANES . . . 3 II. AS THE NINETEENTH DAWNS ... 23 III. AN OLD-WORLD DIARY PARLIAMENTARY . . 43 IV. THE WYNYARD STORY .... 58 PART II WITH CHANGE OF TIMES I. TORQUAY IN THE FORTIES . . . -77 ii. AMONG MY FATHER'S FRIENDS ... 94 III. TIVERTON . . . . . . US IV. MAGDALEN . . . . .130 vii viii CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE V. OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES . . . .152 VI. LANHYDROCK . . . . .175 VII. CHARDSTOCK AND ELSEWHERE . . -193 VIII. BADMINTON . . . . , 204 IX. HENLEY , . . . . 222 X. HIGHNAM . . . . . , 233 xi. HIGHNAM (continued) . . . . .250 XII. NORTH WALES . . . . .264 XIII. BRISTOL ....*.. 279 XIV SUPPLEMENTARY . . . . .297 PART I WHILE OLD TIMES LAST CHAPTER I AS THE EIGHTEENTH WANES MY story begins with my great-grandfather, at one time of Maisonette, on the banks of the Dart, and of Catdown, 1 near Plymouth, who had lived chiefly, I believe, at a house in the town itself, and there in the year 1779 a very notable incident occurred, with which I will begin my chapter of family history. At that time England was in far greater peril than any then knew. What was known was indeed bad enough. In the month of August a fleet of French and Spanish ships, numbering some eighty- eight sail, lay off the Sound. The English frigate Ardent was cut out within the sight of a powerless population, and numerous captures took place of the fishing craft in Cawsand Bay. The larger danger, most providentially averted, 1 This house was burned in 1801, and never rebuilt. 4 OLD TIMES AND NEW was this. 1 Mr. Wynne had received into his house as a very pleasant guest a foreign gentleman who had brought, beyond doubt, irreproachable creden- tials with him. One fine morning he was missing. A letter, it is said, was left, expressing his gratitude for the kindness he had received, and pledging a full respect for the rights of hospi- tality. This guest was none other than the Comte de Parades, euphemistically termed a " diplomatic agent," in plain English a spy, who had turned his visit to admirable account. Somehow he had managed to elude the vigilance of those in charge of the Citadel and learn (what was only too literally true) that the magazines were empty of ammunition. With this certain information he effected his escape from my great-grandfather's house, and taking an open boat, pushed out boldly to sea, and acquainted the French Admiral with the depleted state of the stores. Had his advice been taken, nothing humanly speaking, could have saved our western naval depot from a hostile occupation. This is, to the best of my recollection, the outline of a very remarkable incident as I have heard it related from my early childhood. It may be open 1 Waggons were prepared, and all was in readiness for a flight to Dartmoor, in event of the anticipated landing of the invaders. My mother's father, born in 1776, was, I think, actually conveyed to a place of safety. AS THE EIGHTEENTH WANES 5 to correction or amplification, but there is no doubt that in the main this is a true account. My great-grandmother was Sarah Arthur, whose charming face has been perpetuated in the portrait which was undoubtedly painted by Sir Joshua Rey- nolds, although (it is not a solitary instance) he did not sign it. The marriage was one which was destined to bring both, at the time and in far distant days, a large measure of happiness with it. Both their sons died unmarried, John Arthur, the eldest, of the igth Light Dragoons, and Henry. Thus the three daughters were eventual co- heiresses, and of their families there is a good deal to be told. Here is a schoolboy's letter written from old Blundell's by my great-uncle, as the eighteenth century drew to a close : " DEAR PAPA, I have sat down with a resolu- tion to write a few lines to let you know that I am well, and hope you and all the family are the same. I left Mr. Herbert very well at Exeter, and I should be glad if you will be so obliging as to send me a couple of knots of twine. I should be glad if you will desire Mr. Commins to write me a few lines. I should be much obliged to you if you will write me next Post. Remember me to all at Plymouth, dear Papa. " YOUR DUTIFUL SON." 6 OLD TIMES AND NEW How pathetic in its formal phrases, and how child-like in its plea for twine ! Their eldest daughter, Mary Frances, married Mr. John Hawker. A distinguished Peninsula soldier, Sir Edmund Williams, K.C.B., became the husband of her daughter Caroline, and of him the following anecdote has been preserved. He was in command, probably at Vittoria, of the Fourth Cacadores (Portuguese). In the course of the battle his favourite dun charger was struck by a ball behind the ear. The horse fell with his rider, who sprang off the ground, clear of the fallen animal, and seized the horse of a French cavalry officer, who had been thrown from his saddle. By his main strength he succeeded in holding back his new mount from answering the recall of the squad- ron, and eventually got safely within the English lines. " Oh, Colonel, where's the dun ? " was the astonished greeting of his orderly, Nat Morgan, who was greatly attached to the charger. " Left him dead on the field," replied his master. The following morning Nat appeared at the Colonel's tent, with an invitation to follow him. He went, and to his utter amazement there was the dun, as well as ever. He had only been stunned after all, and in the night had picked himself up and found his way home. And when Nat was grooming him, and pulling his ears, he discovered a bullet flattened like a penny against the metal of his head-piece. AS THE EIGHTEENTH WANES 7 At the same battle Sir Edmund received a ball in his shoulder. It was a very superficial wound, and the skin formed rapidly over the ball. Many years afterwards he was anxious to have it removed, as it became an annoyance to him. He went to London and consulted some eminent surgeon of the day, who told him that the removal was a very slight matter in itself, but that the greatest care would be needed after the operation to avoid taking cold. The ball was extracted, and all was progressing favourably. Unfortunately on reaching Gloucester during the return journey the weather was very wet and stormy. In those days there was no railway into South Wales, and the old campaigner, scorning the inside of the coach, mounted the box, and so travelled to Chepstow. A chill struck into the newly-closed wound, and so the French bullet, long after its discharge, was fatal in the end, for the General died within a few months after much suffering. Sir Edmund's only surviving son was for very many years a prominent figure among the clergy of South Wales, doing strong and lasting work in the earlier days of a Church revival. He attained a great age, but his natural force was little abated. Up to within a very short time of his death he was actively engaged in drilling the parochial Church Lads' Brigade, a movement in which he took the keenest interest. His first curacy was that of 8 OLD TIMES AND NEW St. Pierre and Portskewett, under conditions which have long since passed away. " The sur- plice " was the special charge of the housekeeper at St. Pierre, and on one occasion a failure in the laundry arrangements brought about a curious crisis. The funeral of a member of the family was about to take place, and my cousin was to read the service. To his dismay the housekeeper met him with the news that the surplice was not forth- coming. He saw from the window that the pro- cession was being formed, and he knew that there was not a moment to be lost. Always resourceful, as his many friends knew well, he said, " Give me one of the very best damask table-cloths." She did so, and he folded it nattily around him, covering the gaps and deficiencies to the utmost by pinning a broad black scarf over them. He then sallied forth, keeping as far in front of the cortege as he possibly could. Nothing was remarked, and he wisely held his tongue. Years afterwards at a dinner party he told the story for the first time. A guest heard it through and then said, " Well, I was at that funeral, and I saw you come out and head the procession in what seemed to me a very strange garment, and I whis- pered to the man walking by me, ' Look at young Williams he has brought down one of the new- fangled Tractarian things from Oxford ! ' ' The AS THE EIGHTEENTH WANES 9 funeral must have taken place in 1840, or 1841 at the very latest. Their son John married Mary Harris, of Radford. With regard to this family, I may here relate a very remarkable incident that took place about 1833. Some labourers in the adjoining parish of Brix- ton, in destroying an old hedge, came across several large silver bowls or dishes. They were imme- diately claimed by two of the neighbouring gentry. But as in neither case the title to possession was clearly established, they agreed to send the plate, on which there was visible some armorial ensign, to the Herald's College for identification. And there the plate was adjudged to belong to Harris of Radford. It was then in regular form claimed, and eventually obtained by the late Mr. John Harris. Thus far the simple facts of the episode. The pre- sumption is, that a former member of the family in the Civil Wars, had to make good his escape to save his life, and buried the plate before his de- parture. And this is upheld by the epitaph in Tywardreath Churchyard, which certainly com- bines pathos, affection, and humour to a remark- able degree. Such an inscription is a real find for those who are curious in compositions of this sort. I give it in its entirety ; and I think all my readers, especially Devonians, will thank me for doing so. io OLD TIMES AND NEW " In memory Of ROBERT HARRIS Esquire fometimes Major-Generall of His Magesties forces before Plymouth who was buried heere vnder, the zgth day of June 1655. And of HONNOR HARRIS, his sister, who was likewise heer vnderneath buried the i yth day of November in the year of Our Lord 1653 Loyall, and Stout : thy Crime this, this thy Praise thou'rt here with Honour laid, though without Bayes." ' Their next daughter, Sarah Anne, a famous beauty of her day, married Ralph Gore, of Bar- rowmount, in County Kilkenny, formerly of the 33rd Regiment, and aide-de-camp to the Duke of Wellington. She was painted by Hoppner, who chanced to see her wearing her hat, and leaning on a gate at Maisonette. Prints of this picture are very familiar, and not long since it formed the subject of a Christmas card. My great-grandfather was exceedingly annoyed that a stranger should have taken a sketch of his daughter, and without his permission. His subse- quent endeavours to avoid an unwelcome publicity only resulted in the inscription of the portrait as Sophia Western the initials of the subject being thus retained. This picture has disappeared, and, 1 I am indebted for the epitaph to the Rev. S. B. Baker, of Tywardreath. AS THE EIGHTEENTH WANES 11 up to the time of writing, the inquiries that have been set on foot have proved fruitless. I am not altogether without hope that it may yet be traced. It is a curious illustration of the rapidity with which a true history may be lost, and a false version hold the ground, that among picture dealers it has been currently held that the portrait is one of Hoppner's own wife, or daughter. And here I will insert the account, in the exact words transmitted to me, of a most remarkable circumstance connected with my great-aunt's death. "Colonel and Mrs. Gore had two sons in the 33rd Regiment, Arthur and Ralph. They were both at the battle of Waterloo, where Arthur was killed on the first day. As is well known, there was no expectation in England of a great battle at that time. Mrs. Gore was ill, and there had been no news for some time, when one morning she said to her husband, 'Arthur is dead he has been killed.' Colonel Gore answered that there had been no tidings, and it was not at all likely. Then she described that in a dream she had seen a white marble monument in Gore's Bridge church, and the words ' To the memory of Arthur Gore, who was killed at the battle of St. Jean, June 16, 1815.' "It is remarkable that when the news first came to England, the battle was called St. Jean, from the 12 OLD TIMES AND NEW place where the first fighting took place, though Waterloo was its title afterwards. "Arthur was killed almost at the first, and was buried by his comrades where he fell. When the actual news arrived, the family did not put on mourning, or say anything of the matter to Mrs. Gore, who died shortly afterwards. She said, that although they would not tell her, she knew Arthur was dead, and she was going to him. A monument was put up, as she had described, in Gore's Bridge church." The following details have been placed in my hands since I began to collect these sketches of bygone times : " RECOLLECTIONS OF WATERLOO. "By a Staff Officer. " I was returning towards Headquarters, as the Commander of the Army and his Staff are termed in military language, when my attention being attracted to a group of persons near the wood of Bossu, I crossed over to see what they were about. On getting near I recognised the red facings of the 33rd, and having some acquaintance with that regiment, I at once rode up to the party, and became witness of a most affecting and impressive AS THE EIGHTEENTH WANES 13 scene. On the ground was extended the tall form of a departed comrade, covered by his military cloak, round which were standing, bareheaded, three or four officers. Two soldiers were leaning on their spades, wherewith a shallow grave had been dug. One of the officers was endeavouring in broken accents to read our beautiful Burial service. Another, the elder Gore, stood motionless as a statue with eyes fixed on the cloaked mass at his feet ; young Haigh, a boy of eighteen summers, was crying like a child ; even the hard soldiers were powerfully affected. I needed not to be told whose body lay shrouded by the mantle its length, the mourners, their grief, all told the tale but too plainly. When the reader ceased, I cast an in- quiring look towards Haigh, who, stooping, drew back from the face a portion of its covering, and as I expected, disclosed to my sight the pale and beautifully chiselled features of Arthur Gore. Poor fellow ! But two short weeks before, chancing to pass through a village in which the 33rd Regiment cantoned, I fell in with my old and valued Marlow acquaintance, one of the finest and hand- somest samples of the British youth in the service." " That evening we had a joyous and harmless carouse. We were all Marlow men the eldest of whom was scarcely twenty who only three years before were contending at football in the college field. Alas ! how changed the scene, when 14 OLD TIMES AND NEW between two great and hostile armies, the same individuals were engaged in committing to the earth the body of him, who had once been the life of the party. What must the anguish of that fine lad's mother have been, when the sad tidings reached her, that all her fond hopes had thus been nipped in the bud. I waited to see the last shovel- ful of earth piled over his remains, dropped a tear upon the grave, and departed. This melancholy incident not only affected me greatly at the time, but made a lasting impression on my mind hence, whenever Quatre Bras is mentioned, I always see before me most vividly depicted the touching scene I witnessed by the side of the Bois de Bossu." (From the Albion of November 13, 1847.) " Alas ! my brothers ! Ralph never spoke of the above scene with calmness, and always described his first seeing his brother lying dead covered with his cloak, just as if asleep, as the greatest shock he ever had for Arthur had been left behind the regiment in charge of the baggage and sick, and Ralph did not know he was on the field on the 1 6th until he saw him dead. Arthur, on hearing the firing, had got a horse and galloped up in time to form in square with the regiment and receive his death-shot in the brain, which did not even displace his grenadier's cap, and he lay perfectly unaltered. I recollect their talking frequently of young Haigh AS THE EIGHTEENTH WANES 15 to an old officer of the 33rd. Our poor mother never lived, as you know, to hear the news from human lips, and yet she told me Arthur was killed before she died. Little did I expect after so many years to meet the scene so vividly described in a newspaper. What a beautiful drawing might be made of it ! Our brothers were both so very hand- some. Arthur was not nineteen, Ralph not quite twenty at the time. S. A. GORE." The late Miss Longley once gave me the follow- ing account of a chance meeting with a near relation of Colonel Gore. It was certainly a strange coincidence that under the circumstances they should have been thus thrown together. "In the year 1863 my father, my sister, and myself were at the Schweizerhof at Lucerne. A lady sitting next my father at the table d'hote intro- duced herself as having been born in the same house in which he was born. She then explained that she was a daughter of Sir John Gore, who lived at the time of her birth at Rochester, in a house called Satis House, which had belonged formerly to my grandfather, John Longley, then Recorder of Rochester, where my father was born in 1794. "The house was called 'Satis House' because it was said that Queen Elizabeth had once dined there, and having finished she said ' Satis ! ' 16 OLD TIMES AND NEW " The lady who thus introduced herself was Mrs. Powys-Keck, then a widow travelling with her stepson. " 'Satis House' is still, I believe, to be seen near the old bridge at Rochester, but now divided into two houses." Colonel and Mrs. Gore had a considerable family. One of the daughters, Mary Pitt, became Mrs. Ryland. Her son, together with his bride, was lost in that mysterious and awful calamity, the utter vanishing of the City of Boston from the face of the deep, so that none to this hour know what befell her. It is worth noting at this point that a relation of my wife's, Roger Eykyn, who was at one time in the House of Commons, and well versed in all political chat, told me a few years ago that the first news of Waterloo was published in St. James's Square, where the house of the Minister then was. I much regret to say I have forgotten the number. The same account is given in Mrs. Bagot's most interesting " Links with the Past." Prince William Henry, afterwards Duke of Clarence, and eventually William IV., was a very frequent guest in one or other of my great-grand- father's houses during his times of residence at Plymouth. I have in my possession the first frank he wrote as Duke of Clarence. It is on a letter addressed to my grandmother when a girl AS THE EIGHTEENTH WANES 17 at school. His special admiration was given to her sister, afterwards Mrs. Gore, whom he con- stantly honoured by selecting as his partner at the various assemblies. His Royal Highness's room at Maisonette is still pointed out. Amongst the papers that fell to my share is the following holograph addressed by Admiral Lord Nelson to the Prince. It was in very poor condi- tion, and I have to express my grateful recognition of the courtesy shown me by the Curator of MSS. at the British Museum, under whose direction the document has been admirably restored. "ExMOUTH, April 22nd, " MY PRINCE, I arrived here a few days ago, and purpose, no accident happening, paying my humble duty to your Royal Highness on Friday next. I hope to see you in that good health which I most sincerely wish. Report says the Andro- meda is very soon to sail for the Newfoundland Station, but the westerly wind, even if report says true, will (not ?) permit me to be in good time, nor indeed do I see what good end can be answered by your arrival at Newfoundland or America when all the harbours are froze up. The latter end of May is full time enough, I think, for any business to be done. We are here in the height of summer. No fires and all the windows open. Captain Pole, who I saw at Bath, has promised me a bed. I 3 i8 OLD TIMES AND NEW take for granted he is arrived before this time. Pringle, I fear, has been unsuccessful. He was two days at Bath, but meant to attack Mr. Herbert again on his getting to London, but " Hold fast" is his motto, therefore nothing can be done ; but indeed, my Good Prince, my sense of your kind- ness is to full as much as if successful, being with the sincerest esteem, " Your faithful " HORATIO NELSON. "His Royal Highness " Prince William Henry." I may here remark that battle and fire have both done considerable damage to the records of our branch of the Wynns, and altogether I may congratulate myself on what has been preserved from almost wholesale destruction. The child to whom the future King sent his first frank as a Royal Duke was destined to a series of crushing and tragic sorrows which she bore with a beautiful resignation. After terrible reverses of fortune, she died in 1842. Her hus- band, William Langmead, was the son of Philip Langmead, at one time Member for Plymouth, of whom I shall have more to say later on. My grandfather's mother was Elizabeth Clark, of the (now) Efford family. Her son was born in 1776, when she was in her forty-second year, and he lived AS THE EIGHTEENTH WANES 19 till 1872 thus the lives of mother and child covered a continuous space of 138 years ! Years, too, it may be noted, of the most signal interest in European history. He was, as I have said, amongst those who were conveyed out of Plymouth to Dartmoor in the invasion panic of 1779. The authoress of "John Halifax, Gentleman," was a guest in his house on the day that he reached the age of ninety. She wrote the following exquisite lines in com- memoration of the day. By the courtesy of Mr. G. Lillie Craik, and the publishers of Good Words, I am able to present them here to my readers : " Ninety years ninety years ! We, smooth travelling 'midst our peers, With a careless onward tread, Look at you, so far ahead, And wonder how life's road appears At ninety years, at ninety years : If the journey had seemed long, If the days when you were young (Nigh a century ago ! ) Ever come in silent show, With their forgotten smiles and tears, To the calm eye of ninety years. Little the young mother knew On the day she welcomed you To our old, new, wondrous world, How your hair, then softly curl'd, Would whiten neath the hopes and fears Of ninety years full ninety years ! 20 OLD TIMES AND NEW Yet that unknown lady sweet, Who once guided your small feet, Watch'd the dawning soul arise In the pretty infant eyes Might smile, content, from happier spheres Upon her 'child' of ninety years. Gentle spirit, brave as true, Freshen'd still with all youth's dew, Merry heart, that can enjoy Simply, fully, like a boy : Fear not, though close the shadow nears, At ninety years, at ninety years. So when he at last shall come The good Friend who whispers ' Home '- May he come as tenderly As babe-sleep on mother's knee ! And after so prays love with tears Not ninety, but a hundred years." My uncle, George Winne, a man most loving and beloved, survived him but a single year. He was educated, in common with many other Devon- shire boys, at a formerly famous school at Buck- fastleigh. It was a very severe ordeal ; the flogging days were in their fullest force, and the bullying by the bigger boys was of an odious character. As children, our blood ran cold at the stories he used to tell us of his early experiences. In later life he was greatly amused at an appeal which reached him to contribute to some object AS THE EIGHTEENTH WANES 21 in the parish " in memory of his happy school- days ! " My mother used to relate her recollection of the stormy Reform days in this wise. She, together with her cousin, Lucy Byng, was going down with Lord Torrington to the House, when an attempt was made to rabble the carriage. It must have been, I think, on that memorable day in 1831 when the King came down to the House and, by an arranged coup de main, dissolved Parliament. This was due to an error, as the mob mistook it for a Bishop's equipage. The Bishops, sad to say, were extremely unpopular at that time, and only one prelate Grey, I think, of Hereford was in his place as a supporter when the royal assent was given to the Bill. There is a most interesting engraving of this memorable scene, which is now not often met with. A daughter of Sir John Mowbray told me that after her relation, Bishop Gray, of Bristol, had given his adverse vote on the Reform Bill, he left the House with the Duke of Wellington on one side and another Cabinet Minister on the other, as a kind of bodyguard. It was, for one anxious moment, a position of peril, but the party were soon extricated, and reached Westminster in safety. There, from a window of the House, my mother witnessed the angry tur- moil that prevailed. I am enabled to corroborate the date through a coincidence. I have always 22 OLD TIMES AND NEW understood that my grandfather was tenant of one of the first houses inhabited in Connaught Square. The Square dates, I believe, from 1830, and the following year saw the culmination of the Reform excitement. CHAPTER II AS THE NINETEENTH DAWNS SIR GEORGE ARTHUR'S life has been so admirably written, not only in the "Dictionary of National Biography," but also in the " Heroes of the United Services," by the pen of one who knew his family well, that there is little or nothing that is new to be said. He was eminently a soldier-states- man, a man of rare qualities, distinguished in his dual calling. His refusal as a young officer to fight a duel, followed by the intrepid offer to ride on an errand of almost certain death under the fire of the enemy, struck the keynote of his whole career. The enterprise was carried through, and the message so urgently important was delivered, but the escape was of the narrowest, and the last part of the desperate course was completed in all the suffering and exhaustion caused by a severely wounded arm. He has been called a " Christian stoic," and probably no words could more accurately describe him. His 24 OLD TIMES AND NEW record of work in the service of his country is one of the most exacting and almost uninterrupted toil. On four different occasions he united the offices of Governor and Commander of the Forces, and that in spheres so widely varying as Honduras, Van Diemen's Land (where he completed a double term of office), Upper Canada, and Bombay. What demands such a combination of responsibilities en- tailed, may be gathered from the fact that he would constantly work standing at his writing-desk for some fourteen hours a day. As with other men of commanding gifts, he was "before his time," to use a common phrase. The confederation of the Australian Colonies half a century since was a subject much in his mind. What a delight it would have been to him had he seen not only the bringing of this to pass, but also the mother and her daughter lands so closely united during the anxious months of the South African campaign ! I may be allowed to quote some words written at the time of his death, " that it is a credit to this country that the highest civil offices are open to men of the services, and it is no less a credit to men of the services when, like Sir George Arthur, they attain them by their well-recognised meritorious exertions." His daughter Catherine, the dauntless and true- hearted wife of a great English Pro-Consul, the late Sir Bartle Frere, was called at an early age AS THE NINETEENTH DA WNS 25 to bear her part in supporting the burdens of public life, and for the many years that followed her girlhood's employment of writing from her father's dictation, until her husband's death, to discharge a long succession of responsible duties under the constant gaze of the world. She was characterised by a tireless activity, a sympathy wide and deep, a caution and consideration in dealing with whatever she had in hand that became an actual instinct. What Lady Frere was as a woman may be gathered from her labour of love in India on behalf of our native sisters. It was her high ambition, as it became her undisputed glory, to fulfil her calling as a woman, a leader in all that adorns a woman's life in her house and in society, cultivating her own proper gifts. A remarkable testimony to their sense of this was borne by the address which accompanied the presentation of a fine portrait of Sir Bartle from the ladies of Capetown and the district. It was a dreary day without, and the rain fell heavily from the darkened sky when she was laid to rest in that honoured grave where her husband sleeps in the crypt of St. Paul's Cathedral. Yet the gloom of the cold and early spring was but as the setting and the frame of the hope, high and bright, that belongs to the close of a life lived Christianly and nobly. And none who took part in the stirring scene within those historic 26 OLD TIMES AND NEW walls, who followed the procession as it wound its way under the dim arches and listened to the strain of age-long faith and expectation, is likely to allow the fading of the impression from his mind. The subjoined notes, which have reference chiefly to the more public side of Lady Frere's life, were given me by her daughter, in response to a request I made for some particulars of that nature : " My mother was the second daughter of Sir George Arthur. She was born February 26, 1820, at Belize in British Honduras, of which her father was at that time administrator. I don't think she retained any recollection of Hon- duras, and must have left it very young, as her father was appointed Governor of Tasmania, where he remained, I think, ten years, after which he was sent as Governor successively to Upper Canada and to Bombay. " To all these places Sir George and Lady Arthur took their family with them, except when some of the boys were left at school in England, and my mother grew up in the constant com- panionship of her parents, to be all the help and comfort that an elder daughter, and all the help and example an elder sister can be in a large family. They were twelve in all. AS THE NINETEENTH DA WNS 27 "As the years went by she became more and more the constant companion of her father. Her rapid and beautiful handwriting (to which a Secretary of State once paid the compliment of hoping my grandfather would bequeath his private secretary to his successor!) and her tact and dis- cretion made her most helpful to him as his most confidential private secretary. " On him and on her mother her loving nature lavished a most dutiful affection which was beau- tiful, even when in the closing years of her own long life it was only the fragrant memory of days long gone, and from them both she inherited that absolute simplicity of religious conviction which always marked her. Being of very bright and lively disposition, and with a light, graceful figure, she was fond both of dancing and riding, especially the latter, and was a very fearless rider. She had great taste, too, both for music and drawing, and played the piano very well as a girl. We have now some beautiful flower- paintings of hers all that remains of a large collection of her drawings lost by shipwreck in 1862. " Being so constantly with her father it happened twice that she was the unconscious cause of his providential escape from assassination during his government of Upper Canada, when the Canadian rebels and American sympathisers had set a price 28 OLD TIMES AND NEW on his head and bribed assassins to get rid of him. On one occasion she persuaded him for a change to ride by a different road from the one by which they had daily gone for their usual exercise. It was not known till afterwards that that very day assassins were waiting at a spot they expected him as usual to pass. "The other occasion was more dramatic, when, late at night, she was writing to his dictation, and the handle of the door was turned once or twice hesitatingly as by some one intending to enter. My grandfather, who was walking up and down the room, stopped and said, ' Come in.' An orderly appeared at the door, and my mother always remembered the look that appeared in her father's face, and the voice in which he commanded the man to "put that down," at the same time lifting in one hand a small chair by which he was standing. The man instantly, almost mechani- cally, laid down ' that ' a pair of pistols and fled. ' Ring the bell, Kate,' said my grand- father, and she flew to the bell-rope, scarcely realising what had happened, while he hurried after the man, soon joined by staff and servants aroused by the bell. The would-be assassin, an orderly employed in the house, got off, though challenged by the sentry ; but I have heard that in his box were found letters from the sympa- thisers bribing him to shoot the Governor. His AS THE NINETEENTH DAWNS 29 resolve was evidently shaken both by finding Sir George so fully on the alert, and by the presence of the young girl in the room. "It was at Bombay that my father and mother met. Sir George Arthur's private secretary had died from a sunstroke on the voyage, and he resolved to appoint a member of the Bombay Civil Service on the spot, so he looked up a memorandum which Lord Clare, a former Governor, had given him before he left England, giving his estimation of various civilians, in which he spoke so highly of the character and abilities of Mr. Bartle Frere that Sir George resolved to send for him, and sent for he was from the Deccan, where he had then been Secretary to the Revenue Commissioners about eight years a momentous message for him in more ways than one. "It was rather more than two years after her arrival in India that my mother married, and my grandfather lost, as he expressed it, both his private secretaries in one day. " From that time no woman ever more com- pletely filled the role of ' helpmeet,' identifying herself with all my father's duties and interest, public and private. I think hers was the most completely feminine nature I ever knew. With much eagerness of disposition, a quick under- standing and perception, a great influence with others she never sought a role for herself, 30 OLD TIMES AND NEW so the history of her life is the history of her husband's career, with which she identified herself so completely, without ever an attempt at interference, at managing or contriving things for him, which so often is the bane of the clever wife of a public man. Her sole aim was to supplement his work, and his trust in her judgment was as implicit as his confidence in her manner of carrying out his wishes. " I do not think her life held an aim or interest apart from his, or in later years those of her children. She never in her life made a speech or put herself in the front of any public movement, but the circumstances of his appointment placed her nearly always in the principal position in the society of whatever place they were in, and where- ever they were, her influence made itself felt for good, not only by direct help and encouragement of all good works, but by the steadfastness with which she set herself against all lowering of the tone of 'society. In India she worked hard and successfully to encourage the education of native ladies and bring them out of their isolation, and it was during my father's governorship of Bombay that Hindoo ladies of rank were first induced to appear in English society. " Circumstances obliged her to be absent from him in two great crises of his public life, during the Indian mutiny, when he had just returned to Sind AS THE NINETEENTH DAWNS 31 and she happened to be still in England, and during the Zulu war, when he was in Natal and she in Capetown. Both times in the midst of the greatest anxiety the whole force of the powers was bent to ensure nothing being lacking to him needful for his work and with untiring energy she worked to ensure no delay in his views being known to the authorities at home. During the Mutiny, knowing how anxious he was that to save time re-inforce- ments should, if possible, be sent out overland, she urged the matter with such persistence on the Board of Control through my father's old friend Sir George Clerk, a member of the Board, that at last a small detachment was sent by way of experiment, through Egypt the first time l that British soldiers were sent to India by that route, I believe. " At the time of the Zulu war communication with Natal was extremely slow, and she at Capetown assisted my father as no one else could have done, transmitting to the authorities at home by each mail the confidential telegrams he sent down, of later date than his dispatches, as well as other latest news from Natal, and telegraphing up to him the mail news from England. Her presence too in Capetown and the manner in which she kept Government House open, and took the lead in all movements of public service for the help of the 1 This may possibly be open to some question. 32 OLD TIMES AND NEW Colonists and the troops, was of the utmost value in the way of encouragement and example for all around. " Need I say how she whose sympathy and help had been so much to her husband, in his career of success and distinction, bore herself in that time of adversity and calumny, which was the really greatest moment of his public life? " Need I say that at the Cape, where his name is reverenced as that of one of the few Governors who ever thoroughly understood South Africa, and of all of them the most hardly used and the most completely vindicated, the name of Lady Frere is still, after twenty years, a household word? Fittingly she rests with him beneath the dome of St. Paul's in the heart of the Empire." Sir George Arthur's sister Elizabeth married Captain Raynor of the Royal Navy. Their son John was a young clergyman of the highest promise. He was Vicar of Tamerton, and served as Chaplain to my grandfather when High Sheriff of Devonshire in 1828. The following year he died suddenly, and the very remarkable circum- stances connected with his death are given in the following, written a good many years ago, at my request, by my aunt, Mary Frances Langmead. "You ask me to give you the particulars of Mrs. AS THE NINETEENTH DAWNS 33 Raynor's remarkable dream, and I will do so to the best of my recollection, which I think is clear on this point from the impression the circumstances made at the time. The sympathy felt for Mrs. Raynor was extreme, and was never forgotten by those who knew her and her son. " John Raynor was asked by his friend Mr. Phelips of Montacute to spend a few days and preach for him on the Sunday. He started on this journey in good health and spirits, and there was nothing to cause the least anxiety in the whole thing. After preaching and spending the evening with his friend, he retired to his room, and the next morning was found dead in his bed. " On the morning of his expected return home, Mrs. Raynor said to her sister Miss Arthur, ' Oh ! I am thankful the last day is come, for I shall not dream that dreadful dream again.' Each night after her son left her she dreamed that a funeral arrived at the Vicarage (Tamerton) trimmed with white, and that a coffin was taken out, and carried through the back doors into an open window in the house. " Instead of her son's return, however, Admiral Arthur (her brother) came out from Plymouth to break the sad news to her. The moment she heard he was there she said, ' You need not tell me anything, I know my son is dead.' Your mother was sent for to stay with Mrs. Raynor, who was 4 34 OLD TIMES AND NEW much attached to her, and your grandfather also went to Tamerton to see if he could be of use. " It was by his suggestion (I have always been told) that the arrangements were made which exactly corresponded with the dream of which he had never heard. To spare Mrs. Raynor as much as possible, the back gates were opened and fastened back (it was not the usual entrance) and the study windows opened so that no sound should be heard, and the coffin was carried in precisely as she had dreamed." In sending for my mother under such circum- stances of exceptional distress, undoubtedly a wise step was taken. She was a brave woman, with a clear head, and much presence of mind. It must have been not far from this time that her courage was called out in a very remarkable way. The part of Devonshire where her home was had been infected by a determined gang of housebreakers, and a great deal of alarm had arisen. Their raids were the subject of constant talk, and some precautions in lonely places were in all likelihood taken. One night my mother, then a girl at home, was awakened by a singular noise which, as she completely gained consciousness, she recognised as the working of a file. In a moment she understood what it all meant, and that the dreaded crisis had really come. At once her resolution was taken. She got up and AS THE NINETEENTH DAWNS 35 made her way (nearly the whole length of the house, I believe) to my grandfather's room. In order to do this, she had to pass so close to the scene of operations, that she could hear the voices of the marauders. There was some difficulty in rousing her father, but at last he was made aware of what had happened. Taking his pistols, he summoned a footman who had talked largely of what he would do if the thieves ever came. That worthy, however, acting on the theory that discretion is the better part of valour, carefully locked himself into his own room. The gang took alarm at the movement that had begun within the house, and made off. Their departure was accompanied by the discharge of a gun from the safety of his bedroom window, by this gallant member of the garrison. The high character and the saintly lives of some who were prominently associated with the Plymouth Brethren, about this time made a very deep impres- sion in Devonshire. Many who did not quit the Communion of the Church were largely influenced by the movement. As an instance of the effect produced I may mention that a relative of my own declined to attend the Assize Ball at Exeter, although her own husband was the High Sheriff. This quickening of religious earnestness owed a great deal to two or three Oxford graduates who were in Holy Orders. One of them, probably then the only survivor, I can personally recall. And it 36 OLD TIMES AND NEW is well worth recording how warmly and earnestly the old man spoke in appreciation of Canon Liddon's sermons, that preacher being then at the zenith of his ministry. Sir Andrew Leith Hay, who married Margaret Clark, of Buckland, had a varied and notable career. Early in life he went out to Spain with his uncle, General Leith, and served as his aide-de-camp through the Peninsular war, of which he wrote a brief, soldierly and most readable history, which may still be obtained. He took part in the storm- ing of St. Sebastian, after which fortress his successor was named. Subsequently he sat for many years in Parliament, and was for a time Governor of Bermuda. How he was at last taken prisoner in Spain, and how he was released on parole, with all that followed, should be read in his own most interesting narrative. My cousin, Colonel Leith-Hay, of the 93rd Highlanders, was a soldier of most singularly good fortune. He took part in both the great campaigns of the Fifties, the Crimean war, and the Indian mutiny, and escaped without a single injury. He is one of the three mounted officers shown in the famous picture, " The Thin Red Line." At the storming of the Begam Kotie he was the first man through the breach in the wall, at the spot where the cross-fire of the enemy was such that it seems incredible that any one could AS THE NINETEENTH DAWNS 37 have escaped. He brought away a cockatoo from Lucknow, which still flourishes at Leith Hall, and summer by summer greets the visitors to that most hospitable house with remarks more or less appro- priate. It may have been the result of long campaigning, or the existence of a remarkable taste for fruit, that made him on occasions independent of any other article of food. A story was told of him in my childhood that, arriving late at Efford one evening, he refused the offer of having dinner brought back for him, and made his meal from apples and pears excellent, beyond doubt, in that charming Devonshire nook, but hardly suited, one might have thought, for the purpose. I add to this a few extracts from my great-grand- father's letters to his wife, written in London during the summer of 1789. He anticipated, by the way, the later term of " the little village " as a synonym for the Metropolis, by speaking of it as " this little market town." He dates from " Joe's Coffee House, Mitre Court, Fleet Street." The following amounts as subscriptions to a well- known race meeting in Devonshire seem curiously small: "I have wrote Mr. Stroud as Steward of the races at Totnes, to subscribe one guinea for H.R. the Duke of Clarence, and half a guinea for myself." Here is a singular ending to a letter, sufficiently 38 OLD TIMES AND NEW inclusive : " Love and compliments to every one as due." May 26tk. " I hope to be present in the House of Lords this day to see the Duke of Clarence take his seat there. I lost five hours on this matter yesterday." The following will be ol special interest to my Bristol friends: "Am going with Cruger to the House of Commons to hear the speeches of the great man respecting the slave-trade." This is of more general and historic significance : " To-morrow I shall attend Hastings' trial, the Duke of Clarence having given me tickets for that purpose." His Royal Highness was generous in the matter of sending newspapers to my great-grandmother : " I have ordered the address of the daily papers to be altered in the manner the Duke of Clarence chooses to have it. And I have ordered the World to be discontinued " (so there was a World in 1789!) "and two other papers to be sent in its stead. So that you will in a few days receive these daily papers instead of two as at present. I reminded the Duke to withhold this expense, but so far therefrom that he said it should be augmented and continued so long as they were anyways enter- taining to any of my family." He continues : " This duel of the Duke of York with Col. Lennox is a bad piece of business." AS THE NINETEENTH DAWNS 39 This is an amusing comparison and contrast : " Sally (afterwards Mrs. Gore) and the party she was with at Mt. Edgcumbe seem to exceed the folks here. Only these dance all night, the West- country people all day." And here we have a poor opinion of Metropolitan postal arrangements : " The letters in general are carried so late to Vaughan's that in future be pleased to direct to me at this house. For instance, I presume there will be a letter from you by this post, and had it been directed here, I should have had it early in the morning, and now it is 5 o'clock, and I have seen nothing of it." And a bit of home thought : "As I said, I shall attend to all the rest, particularly to my dearest Mace, who with Harry I hope is good, and mind their learning." On June 3rd he was preparing for a Court function the next day : "I am now waiting at Joe's for a letter of instruction from St. James', respecting a silk bag for my hair, sword, ruffled shirt, stock, buckles, etc., etc., and what carriage is to take me to Court to-morrow night." And now it is the newspapers again : "You have falsely accused me of stopping the newspapers. It was Elphinstone did it, and Farquarson's Clerk told me yesterday that he said he did it by order of H.R.H., which must be false, and could only pro- 40 OLD TIMES AND NEW ceed from his own Scotch economy. I have ordered the papers to go forwards as usual, and Pole has confirmed my order yesterday by a letter from St. James'." This is a curious expression : "I also think Mr. and his mother behaved very comical." Some Devonshire names come in : " Symons, Mrs. Woollcombe and daughters were at Ranelagh." And this is a name more famous everywhere : 'The two Kembles must spend a lot of money here." There is an unfavourable political comment : " The Duke hates Billy Pitt, and has heartily joined his two brothers. The Queen's conduct does not suit with their way of thinking." The ministry of the Church, unhappily, is viewed much as a provision : " He proposes the pulpit for Henry." The state of George III.'s health in this year (1789) gave rise to an extraordinary miscalculation : " Entre nous, the King cannot live, he is certainly going fast." Here again is an allusion to the trial of Warren Hastings : " I am this instant returned from Hastings' trial. I had the honour of a seat in Westminster Hall this day in the Royal Family seat." In the next letter we find a name justly cele- AS THE NINETEENTH DA WNS 41 brated at this present time : " Capt. Pole took me yesterday to pay my respects to his brother Carew." One more mention of the King's health may be of interest : " He is constantly sleeping, and the fox-glove is prescribed for him." I find another allusion to the great trial : "I am to have a peer's ticket to attend Hastings' Tryal again." He dines with the Prince of Wales : " According to the orders, appeared before His Royal Highness in my fine Cloaths at 6. Louis was ordered to show me the sword presented him at Barbadoes, the diamond star, etc., value at least five thousand guineas, the orders of the Garter, the Thistle, etc., and when the Duke was ready he carried me in his own carriage to Carl ton House, where at 8 o'clock I dined with the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Clarence, and the following company Lord Lons- dale, Lord Craven, Lord Eggledon (?), Major Hanger, Colonel Lowther, Mr. Penn, Mr. Sheridan, and Capt. Payne." Again, I find a further and more particular notice of Warren Hastings' trial : " I had the honour of sitting some hours yesterday in the Royal Family's box at Westminster Hall to hear [name uncertain] on the tryal of Hastings. But I got nothing by that, as Lord Camden's Son-in-law has exchanged hats with me, taking a new one for a very old 42 OLD TIMES AND NEW shabby one, he left behind him. However with the assistance of Nepean I hope to recover my property, the hat thus left for me was so shabby that Nepean was obliged to furnish me with one." CHAPTER III AN OLD-WORLD DIARY PARLIAMENTARY IN this chapter I give extracts from my other great- grandfather's diary during the time he represented Plymouth in the House of Commons. He con- gratulates himself on his comfortable position as regards his constituency, in contrast with that of some others : " How pleasant is my seat, perfectly secure from any petitions ! " His style will be found somewhat condensed and obscure, as the entries were doubtless only intended for private reference. But on the whole his meaning is clear, and some of his allusions are not without interest. He took his seat during Addington's administration, Pitt taking office for the second time the year following. "1802 Mr Marshall's for one month "Took my lodging for one month at No 21 Bridge Street, Westminster, at ^i n 6 per week 44 OLD TIMES AND NEW commence Monday 22nd November 1802, & fire @ is. per day. It was on Saturday 27 Inst the time I came to my Lodging 2Oth December 1802 pd 4 weeks @ i n 6 6 6 Pd 23 days fire i 3 7 9" Many modern members of the House would be thankful to lodge on the same terms during the Session. But, at any rate, they are spared the following outlay, moderate though it be : " The hairdresser commenced Monday the 29 November 1802 @ 45. per week, dressed every day . . . find my own Powder and Pomatum." This next entry of the time taken by a journey from Plymouth to London is interesting. It may be noted that in 1774 Burke reached Bristol from Malton in Yorkshire (by incessant travelling), a distance of 270 miles, in forty-four hours. " Set off from Plymouth Friday, 12 November 1802 at Salisbury J past 9 the I3th arrived at Fitzroy Square Sunday night I4th Inst." AN OLD-WORLD DIARY 45 " 1802. HOUSE OF COMMONS. " 1 6 November. "Attended Tuesday 16 at u o'clock, the Lord Steward in the Privy chamber swore the Members (P. L. one of the Commissioners to swear in Members after the Lord Steward left the Chamber) returned to the House, took our seats, and at 2 o'clock we went (after being summoned by Sir Frederick Molyneux) to attend the Lords and heard the Ld Chancellor deliver a message from the King to choose a Speaker, we returned to the House, Sir William Scott rose to propose Mr Abbott he spoke in the most handsome manner of the abilities of him the last Session, seconded by Mr Lascelles, after a short speech from Mr Abbott, a cry of Chair, Chair, he was conducted by Sir William Scott & Mr Lascelles to it, made a speech & moved the adjournment to 10 o'clock next. " Paid i n 6 for the votes of the House &c." "Wednesday the iyth of November " House met at 2 o'clock Sir Francis Molyneux attended the House of Commons requesting the Members attendance in the House of Lords to hear the message from the King approving the choice of a Speaker, the Ld Chancellor finished his speech the Speaker claimed the priviledges of the Commons such as the freedom of speech &c 46 OLD TIMES AND NEW &c the Ld Chancellor said his Majesty will always grant to his faithful Commons all the priviledges which they usually enjoyed, and he had it in command from his majesty to declare it. Speaker & Members returned to the House, they were called alphabetically in counties, the Letter D took in Devon, Plymouth members were called, (Sir William Elford not appearing, P. L. was sworn four times,) delivered in our qualifica- tion viz : " ' The Land Tenements and Hereditaments whereby I make out my qualification to serve as a burgess in this present Parliament to be in the parish of Bigbury in the County of Devon. " ' And I do declare my estate in the same to be of the Annual value of three hundred pounds above reprizes. " ' PHILIP LANGMEAD.' " This was sworn to and paid the customary fees 2s. the Clerk of the House of Commons presented each member to the Speaker. Shook hands, gave each other joy, bowed & returned to my seat. Note several members were sent back, their qualifications not made out in a proper manner, the Speaker, "those Honble members cannot be sworn, they must go and get Copies if they do not AN OLD-WORLD DIARY 47 know how to make out a proper one," Order was then called, the Speaker informed the House that he was prevented by law, from Swearing members after four o'clock, adjourned to 10 o'clock next day.* "Thursday 18 November continued swearing members 19 Do 20 Do and so continued to Tuesday the 23rd Inst, when Sir Francis Molyneux appeared at the Bar of the House of Commons with a message from the King commanding the Commons to appear in the House of Lords to hear the speech from the Throne. The King read it very distinct, loud & manly, the Commons returned, and the Address being moved and seconded, a long debate took place, Mr Fox spoke well & much to the purpose, Wyndham held on for i| hour to little purpose, house adjourned at -past 12 o'clock, nothing to eat from breakfast to that time." Some of our modern experiences in the Legis- lative Chamber seem to have been anticipated by what follows : "Wednesday 24th. The same debates continued to little or no purpose. 48 OLD TIMES AND NEW "Thursday 25th. Swearing Members, went to the House a few Members only with the Speaker, I retired to the Committee room to write my Letters, at half past two the Speaker sent for me to come down to make a House, when I entered it he called out 36, Messengers were sent to get four more (Sir Fredk Molyneux appeared with one of the Lords at the Bar to inform the House that the King had appointed three o'clock to receive the address). It was read over, the Speaker and 35 Members carried it to the King. " Friday 26th. Swearing members. " Saturday 2/th. No house. " Sunday 28th. Went to St. Margaret's Church, Westminster, sat in the Members' seat. " Monday 29th. Petitions agt returns. Bribery in the Elections ; several other Petitions delivered. " Tuesday 3Oth. Several pettns delivd agt Elections, the Chancellor of the Exchequer moved for the 50,000 seamen for three months be continued for one year, unless circumstances offered so to enable a reduction." The next item is of a more personal character ! " Bot 12 Bottles of Old Port for which I paid Bellamy & Co. 2 45. " Wednesday, ist December, 1802. The Chancellor of the Exchequer moved that the 50,000 seamen, including 12,000 marines, voted AN OLD-WORLD DIARY 49 for 3 months, may be voted for one year, referred to the Committee of the whole House agreed. "Thursday, 2nd December. Report of Com- mittee 50,000 granted Chancellor of Ex- chequer moved for supply for the year, and that it be taken into consideration to-morrow, and that the whole House resolve itself into a Com- mittee granted that 5 million of Exchequer Bills by a loan for 1803. "Friday, 1802. Committee of the whole House on ways and means, Chancellor moved a grant on malt, cyder, and perry, the duties on Pensions, Personal Estates, sugar &c. He then moved a grant of 5 millions on Loans and Exchequer Bills, the malt &c was agreed to, the motion of loans, Excheq. bill was also agreed to, motion to be followed up on Monday. . ." In the next paragraph is his further mention of Fox, and also of Napoleon. "Army Establishment voted for one year 17,250 Cavalry, 66,574 Infantry, including Ireland and India, long debates by the Opposition parties, the Glanvill Ld. Temple & Wyndhamites also the Foxites (?). Sheridan spoke in favour of the Motion, after all that was said by each party, it appeared the opposition (Fox excepted) they all want a change of administration, that they may succeed 5 * 50 OLD TIMES AND NEW them in office, but I hope not one of them will succeed, there never was a Chancellor of the Exchequer more fair, candid, and economical, honest man, and one that not only wishes to save the Country but to lessen the expenses & taxes than he does ; at the same time not wish or desire for war, but to keep a watchful eye on our Enemy the fr Consul, and to endeavour to keep pace with him in the Armament of this Country in proportion to that of the Enemy. Note Lord Temple is Wyndham's buffoon [I do not know how this unfavourable comment came to be made]. "Thursday, 9th December. The Army esti- mates brot forward after long debates the whole was agreed to, ordered to report to-morrow the 5 million Excheq Bills, the Malt duty bill, & the Pention were forwarded through Com- mittees of the whole House, Irish Militia Bill read a third time and passed, after the whole gone through they broke up at one o'clock. " Friday loth. This day met the Rt Honble the Lord Mayor Sir John W. Anderson Bart, Mr. Burdon, and others of the Committee Room to consult on the business of the Ship owners, respecting the Petitions, and of the delivery in the House of Commons, I presented the Plym. petition. The mode of Presentation set your Name on a Sheet of Paper, stating the Petition, which is given to the Speaker ; he then calls, AN OLD-WORLD DIARY 51 * Mr. Langmead ! ' My Answer, ' A petition, Sir, from the ship Owners within the port of Plymouth.' He then says, ' State the purport of it ; ' my answer praying redress on the Tonnage duty on Imports and Exports, he then moves that this petition may be brought up as many as are for it say Aye, those of the contrary opinion say No ; the Ayes have it. He then says, ' Please to bring it up ' then rise from my seat with the Petition in my hand and go half way down the House, turn my face to the Speaker, bow, and carry it to the Table, then move that it may be read. The Speaker puts the question to the House in the same manner as bringing it up ; I then rise to move that the Petition do lie on the Table, bow, & retire to my seat sundry other Petitions presented." Here we begin on Irish affairs. "Tuesday i4th. Mr. Corry brought forward a Motion and moved to bring in a Bill for the expor- tation of seed Corn from England into Ireland for the use of improving the grain in that country. I objected to that motion unless the quantity was limited, and the Exporters entered into a bond to forfeit treble the value in case a Certificate on oath was not produced of the said corn being used for seed only, and that the Bond so given should not be cancelled untill such Certificate on oath was pro- duced to the satisfaction of such persons to whom 52 OLD TIMES AND NEW the Bond was given, on which a long altercation ensued between Mr Corry and myself; he then produced the clauses of the Act he intended to introduce, and said he should be happy to sit down to-morrow and receive any suggestions of mine, and make such amendment as I should think right present, the Speaker, his Majesty, & not more than six members besides the Navy estimates gone through etc." The following paragraph has a special interest, as his family became allied with that of the then Prime Minister, many years afterwards. " Wednesday the 5th. Waited on Mr Addington by appointment to present the Memorial of the Merchants of Plymouth, to have the Port included in the Bill for warehousing Bonded goods etc he promised the Memorial & my application should have his consideration. Navy estimates gone through, the Bill appointing commissioners to enquire into irregularities, frauds, and abuses of the Navy, and the Dockyards also to enquire into prize agents, several debates on each side of the house, the importation bill & exportation of malt into Ireland & of importation of malt into England subject to the English duties, also the free importation of grain from Ireland." In the next paragraph there is an allusion to some long-forgotten complication. AN OLD-WORLD DIARY 53 "6th December. Mr R. Fuge called on me this day & requested to be introduced to Mr Vansittart. I evaded it as much as possible & told him that I had delivered the Memorial, & taken every possible measure to facilitate the busi- nes, & that Mr Addington had promised me the memorial and that my application should have his consideration, he still said he much wished it. R. F. called on me before I read my son William's letter ; Mr Fuge and myself dined this day with Mr Webber, I left him there at f past three & said I must go to the House, am jealous some plan is afoot, and an Intrigue between Sir Billy and him- self, am of opinion they want to get a new Act of Parliament & to disfranchise the rights & privi- leges of freemen, the Bill to appoint Comm. to enquire into the irregularities, frauds and abuses of the Navy, was moved. Some amendments, the Names of the Commissioners were demanded to be named, then the names were mentioned." "Dec. 17. And other routine of business, the Commssrs were altered to Sir Charles Morrice Pole, Bart, vice Admiral, Hugh Leycester, Esq, Ewan Law, Esqr (Welsh Judge) John Ford Esqr, Captain Nicholls of the Navy, long debates among the old & young lawyers concerning the exten- sion powers given to the Commissioners, some amendments made in the Bill, which is to be referred to a Committee of the whole House 54 OLD TIMES AND NEW to-morrow, returned a list of 40 members on East India judicature. "On the third reading of the Bounty Bill on exportation of sugar a Debate ensued but the Bill was carried without division, the commission bill for correcting abuses in the Navy &c passed & carried to the Lords for their concurrence, Sir Francis Burdett, agreeable to his motion given on Saturday on a breach of privilege of the Hse, brot forward his charge against Mr Blackborn & Mr Thornton, the first as Chairman of the committee the latter as Deputy, of a Club held at the Crown & Anchor Tavern for entering into a subscription to support the petition of a Member, Mr Manwaring. After a debate of several Members Sir F. B.'s motion was negatived & clearly proved any member might if he pleased subscribe to the petitng person without it being deemed breakg on the privileges of the House." " 27 December. Mr Sheridan gave notice of his seeing in some public prints signed by five noble peers, in his opinion a high breach of the privileges of that Hse, he felt it his duty early after the recess to call the attention of the house on the subject." So, in 1802, the House sat over Christmas. One rather conjectures what would be the feelings AN OLD-WORLD DIARY 55 of honourable members now, under similar circum- stances. "4th March, 1803. Mr Calcraft brot for- ward a Motion respecting the Prince of Wales, to appoint a committee to enquire into the state of the Prince's affairs, the House having previously voted ,60,000 per annum as also .13,000 the income of the Duchy of Cornwall to him, after long debates the house divided on the motion 139 against it. 184 majority 45 of course the motion was lost." It does not transpire how his constituents viewed his conduct in the next respect : " 16 March, 1803. P- L. presented to His Majesty an address from the Freemen and in- habitants of the Borough of Plymouth, on the Providential Discovery of the late Conspiracy against His Person & Government. P. L. was presented to His Majesty by Lord Galloway (Earl) who asked me if I wished for knighthood, as it was His Majesty's pleasure to confer it on me. I replied that I thanked His Majesty but I must de- cline that honour." And here we meet for the first time with the name of Pitt as Fox's great rival : "This 23rd May the Message from his Majesty was taken into consideration, Mr. Pitt supported the 56 OLD TIMES AND NEW war & administration the Debate adjourned at \ past 12 o'clock. "Tues. 24th. Debate began Fox & others in the opposition continued till 4 o'clock in the morn- ing when the house divided for the Address 398 against it 67. Majority 331. " Friday night 3rd June. Col. Patton's motion came on. It contained five resolutions, charges against Ministers, the fifth was to address His Majesty to dismiss them, long debates on both sides. Patton was by order of the Glanvill Wyndham Ld Temple party to move the resolu- tions to give them the opportunity to declare their sentiments, Mr. Pitt & his party took a difft part, Pitt in his speech in an unmanly way moved the orders of the day to get rid of the question from two motives, first to bring Ministry into disrepute in the eyes of the country, 2nd to give liberty to bring the Motion on at a future day, at 4 o'clock the motion was loudly called for, in Pitt's motion 56 a &t it 333 majority 277 ; on the first resolutions 34 agt it 275 majority 241, the other resolutions when put, they gave them, they would not divide." And here a place may be found for one more letter from Nelson. This is not a holograph. The body of the letter is in a remarkably good hand, no doubt that of a secretary. The signature is large and distinct, and, of course, an autograph. AN OLD-WORLD DIARY 57 "COWLEY'S HOTEL, Thursday Evening^ "22nd January^ 1 80 1 . "SiR, I have this moment received the favour of your letter, informing me of the honour which the Corporation of Plymouth intend to confer upon me. I will be at your house at 1 2 o'clock on Saturday, or any other time or place you may please to appoint. " I have the honour to be, Sir, your most obedient humble servant, " NELSON AND BRONTE. " Philip Langmead, Esq." CHAPTER IV THE WYNYARD STORY IN this chapter I propose to give, without comment, the narrative of the strange event in the Wynyard family, which is commonly called their ghost story. I will only say that this account was handed down to me, doubtless, through our family connection with the Gores, while as regards the longer supplement, the facts are these. I one day men- tioned to my friend Rev. Neville Sherbrooke the fact that I possessed a remarkable document in which his family were interested. Its contents were quite unknown to him, but on applying to his sister, Mrs. Musters, of Wiverton Hall, he found that she had carefully preserved a perfectly inde- pendent account, together with papers of the highest importance that bore on the narrative. Thus, by a most unexpected turn in affairs after the interval of more than a century from the event itself, the two histories were compared. 58 THE WYNYARD STORY 59 My readers will, I venture to think, be rewarded by their perusal : "It was in the time of the war with America, when our troops were encamped for the winter at Cape Breton, that the remarkable incident occurred which has appeared in many collections of what are called ' Ghost Stories,' with more or less correct- ness. The following description is from the recol- lection of a near connection of Colonel Gore's, who heard it from his own lips. He very seldom could be induced to tell the story, and never did so without emotion. " The weather had been very severe and the harbour frozen, so that no ships had entered it, and supplies which were expected from England had been delayed, and the troops were on short allowances, and the wine had not been supplied as usual at the mess. Four officers who had dined early were engaged in their small barrack rooms in looking over maps and plans of the seat of war. The rooms were four in number, two below, the one leading into the other without any outlet on the other side, and two above. Sounds could easily be heard from one to the other. Colonel Gore and his companion, Sir Hildebrand Oakes(as he afterwards became) were quietly occupied in the room above, when they heard a sudden exclamation from the rooms below, and the words, ' Good God, my 60 OLD TIMES AND NEW brother Jack ! ' from Colonel Wynyard, who was sitting there with his friend Major Sherbrooke (afterwards Sir John Sherbrooke). Colonel Gore ran down the short stairs and found Major Sher- brooke standing with a look of amazement gazing towards the inner room. Colonel Gore had ex- claimed, ' The ice then is broken, and Jack Wyn- yard is come out.' ' I do not know,' Major S. said, ' but a figure has certainly come into this room and passed into the bedroom, and Wynyard said it was his brother Jack, and he is searching the inner room ; but there can be no one there, for there is no place to hide.' Colonel Gore begged him to describe what he saw, and took out his watch to note the hour, whilst one of the party ran down to the sentinel who was posted in the narrow pathway leading up to the barracks. He declared no one had passed, and that he must have seen, had any one done so, as there was no other road. " Major Sherbrooke said, ' A man dressed in a hunting suit such as he never saw before, with a hunting cap on his head, and a whip in his hand, had come in from the outer door, looked fixedly at Colonel W., and passed into the inner room without speaking. He had never seen Jack W T ynyard, and could not therefore recognise him, as his brother did, when he made the exclamation heard by Colonel Gore. Every enquiry was made, but the THE WYNYARD STORY 61 ice had not broken, and there had been no arrival from England or elsewhere. Some days passed. Colonel Wynyard continued anxious and depressed, and when at length the ships arrived, the first news he received was that his brother had been killed hunting at the very hour in which he had seen him pass through his room. With the papers and letters came also the last fashions from England, and the very hunting dress worn by the apparition was pictured as the fashion then worn, and it was of a peculiar make, unlike any the officers had ever seen. "Some time afterwards Colonel Gore was walk- ing in Bond Street with General Sherbrooke, who paused and pointed to a gentleman on the other side of the street, and said, ' There, Gore, is the figure I saw at Cape Breton ! ' ' That man,' Gore replied, ' was always called " Jack Wynyard's double." (The story books say his twin brother, but that is not correct.) " Long after this Sir J. Sherbrooke became ill and was sent to Torquay. There he was visited by Captain Roberts, a nephew of Colonel Gore's, who in the course of conversation asked him what he now thought of the apparition at Cape Breton. He replied very solemnly that he was a very changed man since those days, and had learned to look very seriously on subjects which concerned eternity, but as he expected soon to be called into 62 OLD TIMES AND NEW another world, where all things would be revealed, he would still say, as in the presence of God, that every word he had asserted was true, and that although he could not tell for what purpose it was sent, he did see the figure, and it was exactly as he described it at first. He died not long afterwards. " General Wynyard could never endure the mention of the subject. " Colonel Gore on one occasion told the story after being pressed to do so, when a gentleman began to turn it into ridicule. He was extremely indignant, and said in a very solemn manner, ' Young man, you do not know of what you are speaking.' The whole event had been so impres- sive to those concerned, and was not to be for- gotten." (My aunt, M. F. Langmead's, MSS.) SIR JOHN SHERBOOKE'S GHOST STORY. (From a newspaper cutting about 1858.) " In 1823 a party were dining with the late Chief Justice Sewell, at his house on the esplanade in Quebec, when the ' Wynyard Ghost Story ' became a subject of conversation. Among the guests was THE WYNYARD STORY 63 Sir John Harvey (Adjutant-General of the Forces in Canada), who stated that there was then in the garrison an officer who knew all the circumstances, and who probably would not object to answer a few queries about them. Sir John Harvey immediately wrote five queries, and sent them to Colonel Gore, who was at the head of either the Ordnance, or the Royal Engineer Department. " QUERIES. " MY DEAR GORE, Do me the favour to answer the following : " i. Were you with the 33rd Regt. when Captains Wynyard and Sherbrooke believed that they saw the apparition of the brother of the former officer pass through the room in which they were sitting ? "2. Were you not one of the first persons who entered the room and assisted in the search for the ghost ? " 3. Were you not the person who made a memo in writing of the circumstances by which the singular fact of the death of Wynyard's brother, at or about the time when the apparition was seen, was established? "4. With the exception of Sir J. Sherbrooke, do you not consider yourself almost the only surviving evidence of this extraordinary occurrence ? 64 OLD TIMES AND NEW " 5. When, where, and in what kind of building did it take place ? " (Signed) J. HARVEY. " ANSWERS. " i. Yes, I was. It occurred at Sydney, in the island of Cape Breton, in the latter end of 1785 or 1786, between eight and nine in the evening. We were then blocked up by the ice, and had no communication with any other part of the world. "2. Yes, the ghost passed them as they were sitting before the fire at coffee, and went into G. Wynyard's bed-closet, the window of which was puttied down. " I did not make the memorandum in writing myself, but I suggested it the next day to Sher- brooke, and he made the memorandum. I remem- bered the date, and on the 6th of June our first letters from England brought the account of John Wynyard's death on the very night they saw the apparition. "4. I believe all are dead, except Colonel Yorke, who then commanded the 33rd Regiment, and his Deputy- Lieutenant of the Tower, and I believe Jones Panton, then an Ensign in the regiment. THE WYNYARD STORY 65 ''5. It was in the new barracks at Sydney, built the preceding summer, one of the first ever seen in the settlement. "(Signed) RALPH GORE. " Sherbrooke had never seen John Wynyard alive, but soon after returning to England the following year, when walking with William Wyn- yard, late Deputy-Adjutant General, and just after telling him the story of the ghost, he exclaimed, 1 My God ! ' and pointed out a gentleman as being exactly like the apparition in person and dress. This gentleman was so like J. Wynyard as often to be spoken to for him. I think his name was Hay- man. R.G." SIR JOHN SHERBROOKE'S GHOST STORY. Copied from " The Album" a new periodical work. (In Lady Sherbrooke's handwriting.) " Sir John Sherbrooke and General Wynyard were, as young men, officers in the same regiment (the 33rd), which was employed on foreign service. They were connected by similarity of tastes and 6 66 OLD TIMES AND NEW studies, and spent together in literary occupation much of that vacant time which was squandered by their brother officers in those excesses of the table which some forty years ago were considered among the necessary accomplishments of the military character. " They were one afternoon sitting in Wynyard's apartment. It was perfectly light, the hour was about four o'clock. They had dined, but neither of them had drunk wine, and they had retired from the mess to continue together the occupations of the morning. I ought to have said that the apartment in which they were had two doors in it, the one opening into a passage and the other leading into Wynyard's bedroom. There were no other means of entering the sitting-room but from the passage, and no other egress from the bedroom but through the sitting-room, so that any person passing into the bedroom must have remained there, unless he returned by the way he entered. "As these two young men were pursuing their studies, Sherbrooke, whose eye happened accident- ally to glance from the volume before him towards the door that opened to the passage, observed a tall youth of about twenty years of age, whose appear- ance was that of extreme emaciation, standing beside it. Struck with the presence of a perfect stranger, he immediately turned to his friend, who was sitting by him, and directed his attention to the THE WYNYARD STORY 67 guest who had thus strangely broken in upon their studies. As soon as Wynyard's eyes were turned towards the mysterious visitor, his countenance became suddenly agitated. ' I have heard/ says Sir John Sherbrooke, ' of a man's being as pale as death, but I never saw a living face assume the appearance of a corpse, except Wynyard's at that moment.' As they looked silently at the form before them, for W., who seemed to apprehend the import of the appearance, was deprived of the faculty of speech, and S., perceiving the agitation of his friend, felt no inclination to address it as they looked silently upon the figure, it proceeded slowly into the adjoining apartment, and, in the act of passing them, cast its eyes with an expression of somewhat melancholy affection on young Wynyard. The oppression of this extraordinary presence was no sooner removed than Wynyard, seizing his friend by the arm, and drawing a deep breath, as if recovering from the suffocation of extreme astonish- ment and emotion, muttered in a low and almost inaudible tone of voice, ' Great God ! my brother.' ' Your brother ! ' repeated Sherbrooke. ' What can you mean ? There must be some deception, follow me,' and immediately taking his friend by the arm, he preceded him into the bedroom, which as I before stated was connected with the sitting-room, and into which the strange visitor had evidently entered. I have already said that from this cham- 68 OLD TIMES AND NEW her there was no possibility of withdrawing, but by the way of the apartment through which the figure had certainly passed, and as certainly never had returned. Imagine then the astonishment of the officers when, finding themselves in the centre of the chamber, they perceived that the room was per- fectly untenanted. Wynyard's mind had received an impression at the first moment of his observing him that the figure whom he had seen was the spirit of his brother. Sherbrooke still persevered in strenuously believing that some delusion had been practised. They took note of the day and hour in which the event happened, but they resolved not to mention the occurrence in the regiment, and gradually they persuaded each other that they had been imposed upon by some artifice of their fellow officers, though they could never account for the reason, or suspect the author, or conceive the means of its execution. They were content to imagine anything possible rather than admit the possibility of a supernatural appearance. But though they had attempted these stratagems of self-delusion, Wynyard could not help expressing his solicitude with respect to the safety of the brother whose apparition he had either seen, or imagined himself to have seen, and the anxiety which he exhibited for letters from England, and his frequent mention of his fears for his brother's health, at length & awakened the curiosity of his comrades, and THE WYNYARD STORY 69 eventually betrayed him into a declaration of the circumstances he had intended to conceal. The story of the silent and unbidden visitor was no sooner bruited abroad than the destiny of Wyn- yard's brother became an object of universal and painful interest to the officers of the regiment. There were few who did not enquire for Wynyard's letters before they made any demand after their own, and the packets that arrived from England were welcomed with more than usual eagerness, for they brought not only remembrances from their friends in England, but promised to afford a clue to the mystery that had happened among themselves. By the first ships no intelligence relating to the story could have been received, for they had all departed from England previously to the appear- ance of the spirit. At length the long wished-for vessel arrived. " All the officers had letters excepting Wynyard. They examined the newspapers ; they contained no mention of any death or of any circumstance con- nected with his family that could account for the preternatural event. There was a solitary letter for Sherbrooke still unopened. The officers had received their letters in the mess-room at the hour of supper. After Sherbrooke had broken the seal of this last packet, and cast a glance on its contents, he beckoned his friend away from the company, and left the room. All were silent, the suspense of the 70 OLD TIMES AND NEW interest was now at its climax, the impatience for the return of Sherbrooke was now inexpressible. They doubted not but that letter contained the wished-for intelligence. At the interval of an hour Sherbrooke joined them. No one dared be guilty of so great a rudeness as to inquire the nature of his correspondence ; his mind was manifestly full of thoughts that pained, bewildered, and oppressed him. He drew near to the fireplace, and leaning his hand upon the chimney-piece, said in a low voice to the person who was nearest to him, ' Wynyard's brother is no more.' The first line of Sherbrooke's letter was, ' Dear John, break to your friend Wynyard the death of his favourite brother.' He had died on the day, and at the very hour on which the friends had seen his spirit pass so mysteriously through the apartment. It might have been imagined that these events would have been sufficient to have impressed Sherbrooke with the conviction of their truth, but so strong was his prepossession against the existence, or even the possibility of any preternatural intercourse with the souls of the dead, that he still entertained a doubt of the report of his senses, supported as their testi- mony was by the coincidence of vision and event. Some years after, on their return to England he was walking with two gentlemen in Piccadilly, when on the opposite side of the way, he saw a person bearing the most striking resemblance to the figure THE WYNYARD STORY 71 which had been disclosed to Wynyard and himself. His companions were acquainted with the story, and he instantly directed their attention to the gentleman opposite as the individual who had con- trived to enter and depart from their apartment without their being conscious of the means. He apologised for addressing the gentleman, but ex- cused the interruption by relating the occurrence which had induced him to commit this solecism in manners. The gentleman received him as a friend, he had never been out of England, but he was the twin brother of the youth whose spirit had been seen. This story is related with several varia- tions ; some say that the gentleman whom Sir John Sherbrooke afterwards met in London was not another brother of General Wynyard's, but a gentleman who bore a strong resemblance to the family. " Copied from Lady Sherbrooke's MS. at Oxton by L. C. Musters, her great-niece. Dec., 1898." SIR JOHN SHERBROOKE'S GHOST STORY. " This story, which I believe has appeared in print more than once, is so curious, that I am going to write it down immediately after hearing it afresh from my 72 OLD TIMES AND NEW great aunt, Mary Pyndar, the sister-in-law of Sir John Sherbrooke. " I will first say that Sir John was the second son of Mr. Coape, of Arnold, and Miss Sherbrooke, of Oxton, and that his maternal aunt, Mrs. Sherbrooke, of Oxton (who retained her name on her marriage with her cousin, Mr. Porter), left property to her nephews, William and John Coape, about the year 1800, which obliged them to take the name of Sherbrooke. John, born 1765, who was in the army, was engaged in the American War during his early life, and on the occasion of this curious adventure, for so we may certainly call it, was quartered with troops at Cape Breton. "It was during the winter, when the communica- tion by sea was stopped with ice, and the army was living in huts, that Captain Sherbrooke, as he then was, came to visit his friend Captain Wynyard, who ' was laid up with a broken leg in camp ; while they were talking together, a man passed through the hut, into the inner or sleeping partition, out of which there was no other exit. Captain Wynyard remarked, 'Why, that is my brother,' and Sir John rose to follow the gentleman, remarking laughingly, ' Well, at any rate, he has a good hat upon his head,' in allusion to the fact that in consequence of the severe frost, the army at Cape Breton were cut off from supplies of clothing sent out by sea from England. THE WYNYARD STORY 73 " When the news from home reached America, it turned out that Captain Wynyard's brother had died at the time of the apparition, according to what one would expect in an ' accredited ghost story.' The most curious part, however, remains to be told. When Sir John Sherbrooke was walking some years afterwards in the streets of London, accompanied by a friend, he saw among the passers- by a gentleman, of whom he remarked to his companion, ' That is the man I saw in Canada ; let us find out who he is.' They followed the individual, and ascertained that he was the twin brother of the deceased Wynyard, neither of whom had Sir John ever seen before. " This recognition of a living man by his likeness to an apparition is, I think, quite unique among such anecdotes. General Wynyard, Sir John's friend (who was laid up with the broken leg at Cape Breton), promised that if he should die before Sir John, he would, if possible, appear to him, but he never did so, though on the day of his death, which occurred about 1809, when his old comrade was in Portugal with the army, Sir John was overcome with such depression of spirits, that he went to spend the day alone in the woods, not feeling able to bear the society of others. "Sir John was appointed in 1811 Lieutenant- Governor and Commander of the Forces in Nova Scotia, and in the same year he married my great- 74 OLD TIMES AND NEW aunt, Katharina, the eldest daughter of the Rev. Reginald Pyndar, of Madresfield, Worcestershire. In 1815 he was promoted to be Governor-General of Canada, and in 1818, on his health failing, he gave up his appointment, and came back to Calverton, near Oxton (where his elder brother William lived), and there passed the remainder of his life, dying in 1830, aged 65. " LINA CHAWORTH MUSTERS. "(About 1890).' "Mary Pyndar was born in 1797, and died of influenza in December, 1893, m perfect possession of her faculties, excepting her eyesight." PART II WITH CHANGE OF TIMES CHAPTER 1 ' TORQUAY IN THE FORTIES TORQUAY in the forties! It is a difficult task for those who have only known the town during the last three or four decades to form any idea of its previous appearance. Indeed, it was during the ten years that followed on the central division of the century that many of the larger changes began. And while the visitor of to-day reaps all the immense advantages of a splendid train service, and most admirable hotel accommodation ; while the modern watering-place supplies him with every conceivable provision for his needs, yet those who can recall, however dimly, the beauties of a time long past, must be forgiven their regrets for that which has passed away, and can never be again. First of all, let me try to picture the scene which met the eye from the churchyard of the ancient 1 I am indebted for one or two dates and some details to Mr. White's excellent " History of Torquay." 78 OLD TIMES AND NEW parish church of St. Saviour's. The ground itself was shaded by magnificent trees, not one of which, I think, now remains. From the churchyard boundary to Torre Abbey sands there was not a single house. A stretch of meadows, intersected at the upper end by the famous avenues, occupied the whole intervening space to the Paignton Road. Thither my sister and I were taken for a country walk. On Warren Hill there were but some two or three houses, and a pathway, winding charmingly down a wooded slope, conducted the pedestrian to the beach. The closely populated quarter of Ella- combe was then a quiet valley, where the pretty cottage residence of a philanthropical gentleman, named Garrett, stood. One of the romances of my childhood was the little garden, with its tiny tinkling stream. In the very middle of the town, where Union Street now joins with Fleet Street, there was a turnpike, incredible as it may now seem, and close by, the old Town Hall, of which more will be said presently. I well remember Wombwell's Menagerie being located on Victoria Parade. There were no County Councils, or the like, then. Beacon Terrace, where Elizabeth Barrett, after- wards Mrs. Barrett Browning, was staying in 1840, when her brother and his companions met with a tragic end by drowning, off Teignmouth, had been built some years previously. But the Beacon Hill, a green mound jutting out into the Bay, was TORQUAY IN THE FORTIES 79 still untouched, and beneath it was a small yard, where, as a child, I watched (< the building of the ship." Daddy Hole Plain was also un vexed by bricks and mortar, and the tops of the Lincombe Hills were fertile with fields and woods. No words of mine can distinctly convey the beauty of the surroundings. Many and many a spot now long since covered with houses, was then in unbroken seclusion. Doubtless there is much to be said for later developments. We who hold such treasures in our memory may be indulged with our dream of a vanished loveliness. Babbacombe was in those days a very small hamlet. Twice during the first seven years of my life we went there for a summer change, staying in a house lent to us by the Rev. Harry Grey, an invalid clergyman of a cultivated and deeply religious life. His strong desire was that he might not survive to be Earl of Stamford. This wish was fulfilled, and his son eventually succeeded to the title. During one of these visits, there was a suc- cession of sounds so mysterious as to cause a panic in the household. The seeming manifestations were indeed of a very alarming character. Footsteps were heard on the stairs, doors were suddenly opened, but immediate search failed to find anything whatever to account for these and other phenomena, and my mother had no small difficulty in keeping the servants from flight. It is a far cry from to-day to the 8o OLD TIMES AND NEW circumstances of that time. I will only say that I have been told there was excellent reason for attributing what happened to the adroitness of smugglers, who still plied their trade. From a gardener in my father's employment, I learned something of what was done at that time. He had on one occasion taken part in the landing of a large cargo of brandy, carrying with others a keg on his shoulder to a safe place of concealment inland. When the railway was opened, and the original Torquay (now Torre) Station built in 1848, the whole of the south side of the road from Torre was still open country. The arrival of the first train is among my most vivid early recollections. My sister and I were taken to see it from a field on the hillside to the left of the line. But I can just recall the last of the old short-stage coaches plying between Tor- quay and Teignmouth. The first railway traffic to Torquay was conducted by locomotives, but very soon afterwards the ill-fated experiment of atmo- spheric movement was attempted. The sight of the huge tubes, lying between the metals, left an abiding impression on my child mind. The only redeeming feature of the whole enterprise was the picturesque design adopted for the pumping sta- tions. One of them, long transformed into a dwelling-house, is very noticeable on Mr. Kitson's Shiphay property. Likely enough, many a visitor TORQUAY IN THE FORTIES 81 rambling by Chapel Hill may have wondered how such an Italian feature came to be in a Devonshire valley. Not long after this time every one was thrilled with horror at the atrocious murder committed by one Rush. There was something in the very name that struck a feeling of terror into my young mind. I do not know what brought him to South Devon, but he was one of the earliest passengers on the new railway. A very strange incident occurred in the construction of the South Devon (main) line, which was told me long after by Brunei's second in command. In making the great viaduct at Ivy- bridge, which was among the wonders of the railway world, one of the masons fell from a fearful height, and literally turned over twice in the air before reaching the ground. Somehow he lighted on such a spot as to be practically uninjured. Half an hour afterwards he was smoking his pipe. Another man employed in the same work was so horrified at the sight of the fall, that he immediately left his engagement. A week after this he was mending a cottage chimney a few feet only from the ground, slipped and was killed on the spot. In those first days of Torquay railway ex- periences, there was, I think, no sort of refreshment room provided. But a quaint sort of booth was established across the road in the corner of a field, and there the traveller could obtain from an old 7 82 OLD TIMES AND NEW couple an excellent cup of tea and its usual accom- paniments. While I am on this subject it is worth recording that the first station at Newton junction, and also at Exeter (in both instances built of wood) had not the ordinary arrangement of an up and down platform. There were two separate struc- tures, and the delays that took place at the former station are amongst the things that no one is likely to forget. Torquay was in its own way a decidedly eccle- siastical place. The Bishop of Exeter lived close by at Bishopstowe, and the Dean was towards the end of his life a resident also. The See of Exeter, at that time and for long after, comprised the wholly impossible area of Devon and Cornwall. The revenues, before the salutary action of the Eccle- siastical Commissioners, were exceedingly small, indeed ludicrously inadequate. Hence the income of the Bishop was eked out from other sources. One of these was a canonry of Durham, still at that time favourably known as a quarry for such supple- mentary purposes. It must have been a tremen- dous addition and hindrance to the work of the diocese to post to the northern city, and keep an annual residence. Some years ago I visited the Cathedral Library, and found a picture there which immediately arrested my attention. It represents the Assize Service somewhere about 1835. All the Canons are shown in their stalls as portraits, and TORQUAY IN THE FORTIES 83 the Bishop of Exeter is depicted proceeding to the pulpit to preach the sermon. The whole scene is full of interest the number of the chapter, the smallness of the choir, the quaintness of dress, &c. If any Devonshire reader should happen to go into Durham Library, he should by no means fail to see this picture. History is rapidly made nowadays, and the presence of Bishop Philpotts as a Canon of Durham, belongs to a book that is closed for ever. Bishop Philpotts's name has been so surrounded by an atmosphere of controversy, that his true character as a reforming prelate has suffered from an undeserved obscurity. What the condition of the huge diocese was at the time of his accession can only now be imagined from the anecdotes that survive. Here is one. An old friend of mine has described to me personally his first meeting with a notorious parson of the period. He was dressed in velveteens, and had a gipsy handkerchief round his neck, and the bridle of his pony slipped over the animal's head in his hand. He took a fancy, in his rough impulsive way, to my narrator, and said, " I'll let that little dandy chap ride my pony, if he likes." A gentleman who had come to the meet took the opportunity of reminding the reverend gentleman (?) that he had not yet paid him ,5 he owed him for a deal. The reply was prompt I give it without its garnishing "No, nor I ever shall." It was then urged that one of two beagles, which he had sent in 84 OLD TIMES AND NEW part payment, was a sheep runner, and the only answer vouchsafed to this remonstrance was a curt " Shouldn't wonder ! " There were but four churches in the Torquay of the forties, and indeed only three until quite the close of that period. My first sight of Bishop Philpotts was at the consecration of St. Mary Mag- dalen, where I was taken for a part of the service by my nurse. The incumbent of St. Saviour's during a part of the forties was an amiable and devout man who had imbibed something of the Oxford teaching, and as such was a person more or less suspect. Perhaps his marriage with the sister of the great Bishop Wilberforce encouraged the feeling at a time when the air was thick with controversy. Anyhow, he told me in after years that when he " read himself in" at the parish church, he accidentally omitted one of the Thirty-nine Articles. He had divided them into two portions, whereof one was assigned to the morning, and the other to the afternoon. The lapse had occurred at the former service, and in the interval a message reached him from a strongly partisan lady, inviting his attention to his delin- quency. He used to wear a black cloak that no doubt fostered a poor opinion of his orthodoxy. He had a custom of which I was told in my child- hood, and which greatly impressed me, of taking the altar vessels from the Church for the Com- TORQUAY IN THE FORTIES 85 munion of the sick. At that time the sacred vessels made for this purpose were of a miniature descrip- tion, and in his judgment probably altogether un- suitable. It would be interesting to know if this habit of his obtained in other places also. He used to say that if no congregation appeared on week days, there was always one in the churchyard. The only other churches up to 1849 were the chapel of ease, dedicated to St. John, and the proprietary Chapel of the Holy Trinity. The site of the former is now occupied by a remarkably fine build- ing, from the design of the late Mr. Street, R.A. The latter has been replaced in the close vicinity by a modern edifice, and the old Chapel has been dis- mantled, and is partially converted into business premises. Both these places were prominent features in the days of which I am writing, and claim more than a passing notice. It may here be noticed that Tor- quay afforded a sad instance of delay in making proper provision for the spiritual needs of a growing population. In the old parish church the ingress of visitors during the twenties, and more especially the thirties, left a rapidly decreasing space for the inhabitants. It was curiously noticed, not long since, that on one Sunday some seventy years ago, two Dukes and three other noblemen of high rank were recognised in the congregation of what was, it must be remembered, only a village church. 86 OLD TIMES AND NEW St. John's, built in 1815, had but 120 seats free, all told. It was not till the opening of St. Mary Magdalen that the need, which had then reached almost irremediable proportions, was fairly met, St. John's became the home of what for clearness sake (albeit party terms are unwelcome) I must call the High Church section ; Trinity Chapel, from the first, was associated with the opposite school of thought, and soon became a very powerful centre. Bishop Philpotts constantly officiated at St. John's, where an episcopal seat was set within the sanc- tuary. I think the Incumbent during the forties must have been the first person to figure in a ritual suit. The Bishop took very vigorous measures literally, it is said, m et armis, in respect of vases of flowers placed on the altar, Easter Day, 1847. As yet, the days of Westerton and Liddell were not. The offending ornaments had been placed, I imagine, on the Mensa itself, and not on a re-table. The hapless Incumbent was subsequently con- demned in costs. I remember that a peculiar system of chanting prevailed in this church. It was strenuously defended in its time. But I do not know if it still has its advocates. Perhaps some of the old books have been preserved, and would afford interest to musical experts. Trinity Chapel rose to its zenith under the long ministry of the Rev. Richard Fayle. No figure was more familiar in the Torquay of the middle part of TORQUAY IN THE FORTIES 87 the century than his. He was a gentleman of the old school, handsome, and, as a younger man, must have possessed considerable strength. He was exceedingly fond of horses, a good judge of their points, and was always well mounted. The late Archdeacon Griffiths told me some few years ago how he became acquainted with Mr. Fayle. Mrs. Griffiths was seriously ill, and was sent to Torquay for a prolonged sojourn. Her husband, then a Welsh Incumbent, attended the Chapel, and after a time was called on by the Incumbent. The latter, with amusing frankness, gave his new listener to understand that the cut of his coat was such as to engender doubts as to his ecclesiastical sympathies. These doubts, however, the younger man was able to remove satisfactorily. Very soon afterwards, some very urgent business took Mr. Fayle away from Torquay for a short period. He secured the services of the now approved Mr. Griffiths in his absence, and having discovered that he was a con- genial spirit as regarded matters equestrian, charac- teristically sent a riding horse every morning, and a brougham for carriage exercise each afternoon. I can just remember the Chapel before the great influx of worshippers made the additions of larger galleries necessary. And it must have been quite early in my life that my mother took me there one Ash Wednesday morning, and as we came out the workmen were waiting for the close of the service 88 OLD TIMES AND NEW to commence what I think was the final instalment of accommodation. The services were of the severest type of plainness. That at 1 1 a.m. was commenced by a familiar short anthem, " I will arise," and the only other music allowed was the chanting of the Jubilate and the singing of two hymns. The prayers were read from a second pulpit on an exact level with that for preaching. There were a very large Bible and Prayer Book, which reposed on a perilously small space. I may remark that to this day I cherish the memory of Mr. Fayle's voice and admirable reading. Both the pulpits were approached by a long staircase, and it was a sight to see the finely-built man ascend for his sermon, with a large Bible carried under his arm. The sermon was immensely long fifty minutes in a morning ! I fear for my father's strict respect for truth when he reassured my sister in reply to a pathetic inquiry by saying, "It will soon be over, my dear." A collection at Trinity Chapel was one of the great financial hopes for a society whose claims were advocated there. It is a remarkable fact that early celebrations of the Holy Communion prevailed in this Chapel at a time when they were sufficiently rare. I believe, but I am not sure, that they were instituted there before any other church in the town adopted the practice, except, perhaps, St. John's. Many years afterwards, for old sake's sake, I TORQUA Y IN THE FORTIES 89 went into the Chapel one day, and finding the old high pews gone, and a seemly lectern replacing the former reading pulpit, I expressed my sense of the changes to the good woman in charge of the building. She said, " I suppose you remember it in old Mr. Fayle's time ? " And when I replied that it was so, she added, with a very pretty loyalty to established traditions, " But it is the same doc- trine, sir ! " And this reminds me of a somewhat similar incident. We were once at Weston-super-Mare with a sick child. My wife had remained with him one Sunday morning, and sitting by the open window overheard a conversation between two men who had just quitted a certain church near by. One of them was indignantly remarking that the surplice had been used in the pulpit. The other endeavoured to allay his irritation by assuring him that "It was the gown doctrine, you know." It was in St. Mary Magdalen Church that I heard a Queen's letter read, a solitary instance so far as I am concerned. The observance of rubrics was much in the air at the time of the consecration, and I distinctly recall the solemnity with which the sacred elements were brought in from the vestry by a venerable man after the collection of the alms, and then placed on the altar. The rule was thus kept, when a credence table was unknown, and indeed would not have been tolerated. 90 OLD TIMES AND NEW It would be very difficult for a child of to-day to realise what it meant for my sister and myself to attend occasionally this new church. After the uncompromising ugliness of a square building from which ornament was rigidly excluded, the spacious Gothic edifice, with its open seats, and the new marvel of stained-glass windows, meant a world of mystery and beauty. And then the delight of a Sunday morning when there was a celebration of Holy Communion. For the first time we heard the Sanctus as an Introit, and the Kyrie sung, besides the Amens being accompanied. The im- pressions of that first experience of brightness have survived all the changes and vicissitudes of the many years that have since gone by nothing since has had quite the charm of that very small attempt at dignifying the Eucharistic Service. It is of special interest to remember that the principles of the excellent Incumbent, Prebendary Wolfe, were altogether opposed to those of the Oxford school. My readers will perhaps find it difficult of belief that a disgusting orgie was perpetrated in Torquay up to within some forty years ago. Some low wretch was elected in mockery as Lord Mayor of Torre, and having been made helplessly drunk, was carried in that condition through the streets by a crowd, and finally deposited in a pond in Torre Abbey Meadows. On almost the last occasion of TORQUAY IN THE FORTIES 91 this sickening scandal being perpetrated, I was with George Collyer Harris (of whom I shall have a good deal to say later on) in Higher Union Street. With unshaken courage he turned and faced the excited mob, and his sermon which scathingly denounced the bestial scene on the following Sunday, had probably a good deal to do with hastening its suppression. Prominent among these earliest memories is the dangerous riot that took place in 1847. The cause was the prevailing scarceness of bread, and a good deal of looting was done in the course of the night of May 1 7th. A party, organised in the interests of law and order, headed by two county magistrates, Mr. Edward Vivian and Mr. C. March Phillips, succeeded in capturing some of the ringleaders. A midnight sitting was held for the purpose of dealing with the charge, and three of the number were forthwith despatched to Exeter. The trouble was by no means over, for a determined attempt at a rescue of the others who had been detained was made the following day by navvies employed on the railway works. I have been told, as long as I can remember, that Mr. March Phillips and two coastguard men were the only three persons left at the Old Town Hall, previously alluded to, when the attacking column arrived. With splendid bravery Mr. March Phillips himself seized the leader, a powerful man of large stature, while his 92 OLD TIMES AND NEW two companions held the other assailants at bay, by alternately presenting the points of their side arms and using the butt ends of their muskets. Adequate reinforcements were soon on the spot, and after some further stirring episodes, quiet was at last regained. But the tramp of a determined crowd, marching on mischief, and the hasty pre- cautions to protect property, made an indelible impression on my mind. I was not quite four years old, but the event seems as though of yesterday. People of this generation, I fancy, have very little conception of the condition of things among the poor at the time of the repeal of the Corn Laws. Bread was selling at fifteenpence the quartern loaf, and there was wide and grievous suffering. This chapter is already long enough. Before I close it, here is a significant anecdote related to me not long before his death by a very well known Torquay personage, the late Mr. J. B. Toogood. He went into the shop belonging to a tradesman many years established in the town, and inquired after his welfare since they had last met. The tradesman replied, epigrammatically, that people with a pair of horses dealt with him at the present, whereas those who had four attached to their car- riage had been his customers in the days of old Torquay. "Well," replied Mr. Toogood, "and don't they pay you just as well ? " " Certainly TORQUAY IN THE FORTIES 93 not," firmly rejoined the other. And we may be quite sure he was correct. In those now distant days, families of wealth and distinction came to such a place to stay. London was at a great and expen- sive distance. There was a large establishment with all its manifold requirements. The people who used four horses were used to a liberal local expenditure. Happy they who had their custom, and were prudent in their use of its proceeds ! Yet one more anecdote of Henry of Exeter must bring these old Torquay sketches to an end. One of his family told me in my younger days this story of the Bishop. He had unbent for the nonce, and had invented a wonderful tale of the Munchausen type to amuse a young relative how that once riding through a wood he had set his horse at a gate, but, in clearing it, had come in contact with the boughs of a tree. On reaching home he found that his watch was gone. But some time afterward taking the same ride, and jumping the same gate, he found the watch hanging on the end of a branch. " Indeed, my lord," replied the younger Philpotts with becoming gravity, "and may I ask if it was still going?" " Going, sir ?" retorted the Bishop. " The only wonder is that it was not gone ! " CHAPTER II AMONG MY FATHER'S FRIENDS THE Gorham controversy, which had been largely forgotten, has, in the course of recent discussions, again occupied the attention of Churchmen. Not indeed as to the merits of the case, but as being the first instance in which the methods of the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council were dis- played in matters ecclesiastical. With the dispute itself I have here no concern. But Mr. Gorham, I have understood, wrote some portion of his argument or defence in my father's house, and this has led me to refer to an episode marked with great results in the English Church. He was a man of a determined and argumentative type. My mother, I may mention, with her usual habit of observation, was much struck with the shape of Mr. Gorham's head. A very curious incident was afterwards related to me by my uncle, who was an old-fashioned strong Churchman, greatly AMONG MY FATHER'S FRIENDS 95 opposed to what were supposed to be the views of the Vicar of Brampford Speke. They chanced to meet at a clerical gathering where the subject of systematically teaching the Church Catechism was under discussion. The feeling of those present was generally opposed to the plan. The single person in the room who firmly supported my uncle's opinion was, strange to say, Mr. Gorham ! It must have been about this time that I first remember a visitor to my father's house, who, amidst all his serious differences with my father's religious tenets, held ever a loved and honoured place there. The presence of Frederick Denison Maurice is, I think, the earliest remembrance I have, beyond that of the members of my own family, and my father's household. Beyond the fact of his being there, I regret to say my actual memory fails me, save only in this one particular, that he used to attend the weekday services in the old parish church, and was, I think, regarded in a place where religious differences ran miserably high, as something of a Tractarian in consequence. After my child days were over, I have heard my aunt describe the agony of sorrow he endured because there was a failure in arranging for his wife's last Communion on her deathbed. Amongst my first possessions was a book given me by him, in which he had written my name and his own. It is a matter now of unavailing regret f 96 OLD TIMES AND NEW that before I was aware of its value, I gave away the autograph. Mrs. Maurice died, I think, in 1845, an< ^ mv remembrance of Mr. Maurice must be in 1848. He did not by any means always do full justice to himself in his books. So true and so appreciative a critic as Dean Church, while admitting the " degree of haze round his writings," has given us his reasons for the undeniable fact. One of them was Maurice's " preference for the imperfection which left him the consciousness of honesty." A somewhat similar comment was made by Canon Liddon on the writings of a very different man the saintly Walter Kerr Hamilton, Bishop of Salisbury. Nothing certainly could be a more radical blunder than to find in him an apologist for loose- ness of belief. He was a man of deep and fertile faith, and a character of rare excellence. He belonged to a group of men whereof any period in English history, however richly provided, might justly be proud. Maurice, Kingsley, Hughes, and the single survivor, J. M. Ludlow, were set down by some as dreamers of impracticable dreams, but their dreams were noble ideals, much whereof has now passed into general acceptation. Whatever failure . there may have been in their pursuit of them is no more perhaps than is marked by the interval that in our struggling humanity must be AMONG MY FATHER'S FRIENDS 97 inevitably found between a splendid aim and the fullest available measure of realisation. One of Professor Maurice's sisters married the Rev. E. H. Plumptre, afterwards Dean of Wells. My intro- duction to them was during early Oxford days, in the old hotel on the CEggischorn, and they will always be associated with my recollections of that wonderland which I then saw for the first time. Another figure that held a marked place in my father's life was Charles Kingsley. It was about the middle of the Crimean war that, on account of Mrs. Kingsley's health, the family came for a lengthened sojourn to Livermead House. This well-known resort for visitors is close to the sea, and Kingsley indulged there to the full his passion for natural history. " Glaucus " was the fruit of those quiet months unspeakably welcome in the midst of that closely-occupied life. I recall two stones that belong to this visit. He had hardly settled into his quarters when Mrs. Kingsley learned that in another part of the house was a lonely lady, who had been taken alarmingly ill. She could not rest till something had been done for her relief, and Kingsley started accordingly for my father's house. My mother was at home, and saw him. He stated his errand of mercy, and then wound up his apology for coming by the following startling statement : " You see, Mrs. Tetley, my wife is such a kind-hearted woman that if she was 98 OLD TIMES AND NEW going to be executed, her first anxiety would be that any who desired to see it might get a good place ! " The second story is as follows. Kingsley had been listening to a sermon one Sunday, as to which he made this comment to my mother an unfor- tunate one, by the way, for the stammer which hampered him sometimes in conversation. " Dear Mr. told us a great deal about demons, but one demon he overlooked, the demon of dulness." Certainly that was a peril that never haunted his own preaching. Another visitor, and a much welcomed one, was Mr. Daniel Macmillan. Judge Hughes, in his delightfully written " Life," has given several parti- culars of his different visits to Torquay, and it would be altogether superfluous to repeat them here. Thomas Hughes, I may remark in passing, was another friend belonging to these times, through his marriage with the daughter of Pre- bendary Ford, the devout and well-read Vicar of St. Mary Church, before the eventful incumbency of Mr. Maskell. I think my chief recollection of Mr. Macmillan is in 1855. He often drove about with my father, and was exceedingly kind to me. I remember on one occasion how he encouraged me to detail to him the plot of a story which had been recently related to us children. His winning sympathy with a child's interests notably the AMONG MY FATHER'S FRIENDS 99 acquisition of a toy gun at a time when the cares of business at Cambridge in his enforced absence, and the shadows of anxiety as to his precarious state of health, must have profoundly affected him I see now to have been very remarkable. And I am rejoiced to say that a handsome gift of his to me has met with a better fate than that which befell Mr. Maurice's book. As I write, my copy of Sir Edward Creasy's " Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World " is before me, with an inscription in our old friend's clear handwriting. Many years afterwards, his brother, Mr. Alexander Macmillan, came to my father's house. My father, I remem- ber, repeated to me the substance of their conver- sation, and one point on which Mr. Macmillan had dwelt was the magnificence of John Bright's oratory. He had listened, he said, to all the great speakers of the day, but there was not one that he considered to be his equal. During the years that followed Mr. Daniel Macmillan's stay at Torquay valuable presents of books were from time to time sent by the firm. In our old home we have first editions of " Westward Ho!" "Two Years Ago," " Geoffrey Hamlyn," and last, but by no means least, an early issue of " Tom Brown's School- days." All the early numbers of Macmillans Magazine were despatched as they came out, and thus we possess the first issue of " Ravenshoe," before it appeared as a separate volume. I am TOO OLD TIMES AND NEW here reminded that Judge Hughes visited us in our Bristol home not long before his death. He dined with us, and we were delighted by the eagerness he displayed in getting a good view of an instan- taneous photograph of the Pembroke Torpid in which my son had been rowing. I shall never forget seeing the graphic narrator of the boat-race in " Tom Brown at Oxford " carefully studying the scene. Our very secluded life was about this same time greatly brightened by my mother's first cousin, whom I have before mentioned, Lucy Byng, taking up her residence for some months with us. She divided the time between Torquay and our cousins, the Erving Clarks, at Efford Manor. They had not long before sustained a considerable shock in the death at the Alma of Sir William Norris Young, who had quite recently married their daughter Florence. He was in the fated Twenty-third Royal Welsh Fusiliers, and fell with most of the other officers engaged. The husband of another cousin of mine, Mace Hawker, the good and gallant Major Cuddy, was the first to fall within the Redan. His courage will always be commemorated in my house by the fine ham- mered silver cup which his widow generously transferred to me, and which had belonged to my great-uncle, John Arthur Wynne. But to return to Mrs. Lukin, for such was the AMONG MY FATHERS FRIENDS 101 married name of Miss Byng. Her husband, who had died some little time before, was the son of a former Dean of Wells, and a character in his way. : He was particularly fond of horses, and was, I believe, a keen rider to hounds. One of his fancies was to have his hair cut by his groom, who used to perform the operation as his master sat on an inverted bucket in the stable yard. My sister and I were devoted to her. She used to procure divers little indulgences for us, and one of our great delights was to hear her read parts of " Don Quixote " to us. Mr. Lukin married our cousin as his third wife, but she was, I think, his first love. And it was said that he made her an offer on each previous occasion before contracting an alliance. Associated with my childhood, and many years of my later life, Emma Marshall will always hold a prominent place in my memory. It was in the year 1851, when the Martin family were living in the same Livermead House, where afterwards Charles Kingsley's quarters were taken up, that I first saw her. She was an indefatigable worker, and re- markable for the accuracy of detail in her books. This feature of her writings is all the more to be noted when the very large number of publications that were credited to her pen is taken into account. The providential ordering of her life that made her 1 It was during Dean Lukin's tenure of office that the last bull- baiting took place in Wells. 102 OLD TIMES AND NEW for a long time a resident in various Cathedral cities was gratefully recognised by her as her career developed. The terrible failure of the South Wales and West of England Bank, in which her husband was both a manager and shareholder, brought heavy and lasting trouble on her household. Most bravely she bore up against the blow, devoting herself more assiduously than ever to her literary labours. Her ambition was, as she used to say, to write no word that could do hurt. Her many friends, and the very many thousands that have delighted in her works of fiction, and her tales founded on history and personal study of localities, will never admit a simple negative as an adequate meed of praise. Whatever in aim is noble, and whatever in life is consistent therewith, that is the tone that rings through the long list of the books that is now closed for ever. I pass to another writer whose exquisite pathos will never be forgotten while the love of our animal friends and the sense of poetry in simple daily life hold a place in the minds of men. Dr. John Brown in student days at the University of Edinburgh shared rooms with my father. No one who is privileged to know him is likely to forget the author of " Rab and his Friends." One evening I recall especially, when, as a young man, I dined with him and Professor Syme. In the course of the conver- sation he uttered a most characteristic remark to AMONG MY FATHER'S FRIENDS 103 the effect that " the Almighty never made a more beautiful thing than a wee cuddy." Many of us, I think, will be disposed to agree with him. Sydney Smith, in his Lectures on Moral Philosophy, cites the donkey in comparison with the horse as a typical instance of the picturesque. It is quite true ; yet Dr. Brown's statement, though it goes very much further, will nevertheless sufficiently hold its own. It was the arrival at Torquay of George Collyer Harris (who afterwards married our cousin, Percy Primrose, and whose life has been sketched by Miss Charlotte Yonge) as curate of the old parish church, that introduced into our lives the strongest and most permanent influence. I have already spoken of my home life as exceedingly secluded. The loss of all my grandfather's property had left a heavy cloud of sorrow, and, with the exception of the visits of a few relations and intimate friends, there was little to dispel it for us children. Dr. Harris, the Vicar of Torre, fell in 1859 into a long and critical illness, so it was arranged that his son should return home and help him, and very shortly a wonderful change came to pass, to our great ad- vantage. With a discriminating kindness that it is only as life has gone on that I have been able at all duly to appreciate, he quickly began to take notice of me. He saw the position of the awkward, over- grown lad, who had never had the advantage of a 104 OLD TIMES AND NEW public school, and he bent his whole vigorous, enthusiastic self to brace and encourage me. And never, surely, was there a young man " rejoicing in his strength " more admirably fitted for such a kindly task never one more likely to call out the loyal adherence of those he made happy by his companionship and care. The beautiful young face, which Richmond sketched, the well-knit and active frame, the light curling hair, and the bright eyes, that alternately softened and flashed it was a personality the outlines of which no lapse of time can obscure, an influence, of a truth, wherewith to conjure. For there was in the man a glorious passion for good, a splendid hatred of wrong, so that the impulse in the way of all that was noble and true seemed to sweep irresistibly away all hindrance before it, and the loathing of the base and the mean and the foul to rend away the deceit and the mask. Add to this a singular and winning spell as a preacher, and those who never during his too brief life were privileged to see him will not wonder at his extraordinary power, more especially with the young. It told in a moment in the swiftly growing town and over the whole district. Such sermons as his were nothing short of a revelation. Plain Church truths at which men had for long rebelled, clothed in language picturesque and strong, cautions and counsels that dealt with daily life in terms of unmis- takable directness in the church and in the mission AMONG MY FATHER'S FRIENDS 105 room, amongst all classes and conditions of people, alike startled the indifferent and aroused the ordi- nary church-goer in a manner to which hitherto they were strangers. It may seem an exaggerated statement to make, but now, after the lapse of more than a quarter of a century, I do not hesitate to say, and I may confidently make my appeal to some who remember George Harris in the fulness of his strength to support me, that never before or since have many among us come under the peculiar force of such sermons as his. It was under his guidance that I made my first journey abroad in 1862. We were a party of three, the other member of the group being his connection, James Yonge. We had some experiences that would seem strange enough to those who only know the finished methods of modern travel. For in- stance, we set out from the London Docks for Antwerp a twenty hours' business to begin with ! At that time there was no railway in the Rhone valley further than Sion, and we travelled on foot, not only in the Zermatt district, but also a good deal in other parts of Switzerland. And in the course of this holiday George made his first essay in mountain climbing, for which he quickly acquired a considerable taste. His subsequent exploits, however, somewhat narrowly missed realisation, for, early in our Swiss wanderings, he and our other companion, having lingered late on the 106 OLD TIMES AND NEW Pilatus, were overtaken by darkness, and only just discovered in time that they were approaching the brink of a formidable precipice. Two years after this we went off together for another holiday abroad, and this time struck into the Tyrol. There I parted with him for a while, as I had not the slightest capacity for mountain work. He was joined by Lord Francis Douglas, whom we had met at Inns- bruck. I had walked down from the Ziller Thai to take the railway at Jenbach, and near the station I met him on his way up the path I had just de- scended. I can see him now as I saw him then, in all the freshness of his eager youth, with his rope slung round him and his ice axe in his hand. We bade each other farewell, and we never met again. The following year, as is well known, he formed one of the party which first conquered the Matter- horn. All went well with them till they had reached a point in the descent some twenty minutes from the summit. Then a fatal slip on the part of Mr. Hadow caused him to fall and knock over Michael Croz. Their weight brought Mr. Hudson after them, and then Lord F. Douglas. The rope broke between him and Tangwalder, and in a few awful moments all was over. Three of the bodies were recovered by a search party, but that of Douglas was never found. But to go back from that victory which was thus turned into sadness to our reading party in 1862. AMONG MY FATHER'S FRIENDS 107 George was always fond of finding- routes out of the beaten track, and so when we were moving from Zurich to Lucerne he proposed a notable alterna- tive to the usual means of transit. We took the steamer to Horgen, walked to Zug, and thence went over the lake in another steamer to Immensee, whence again we were to take to our feet and make for Lucerne. It all was quite admirable on paper, but the element of storm was not taken into account. This broke on us while crossing the lake of Zug, and when we were nearing the end of our journey our appearance was miserable indeed. And here arose a difficulty, for, being strangers at the Schweizerhof, we doubted exceedingly whether that highly reputed hostelry would admit us. Now, if there was one thing about George Harris more than another, it was a provoking way he had of looking more respectable than the rest under the most adverse circumstances. So it was decided that he should make the best toilette that was possible, and then act as our spokesman and agent in applying for rooms. There used to be outside Lucerne huge piles of timber, such as you see by the canal close to Gloucester, and behind this friendly shelter knapsacks were opened, and our leader was rehabilitated. He was quickly bien mis, and his negotiations at the hotel crowned with speedy success. A sufficiently odd coincidence befell me in the io8 OLD TIMES AND NEW course of some continental travels during later years. My brother-in-law and I had come through from Geneva to Paris, arriving in the latter place one Saturday in July, 1874. We were resting after the long journey, when a knock came at the door, and a waiter stated that a lady was waiting to see me in the Salle de Reunion. This was at the Hotel de Lille et d' Albion. I explained that it must be a mistake, as there was no one who could be inquiring for us, and he went away. Hours later, to my great regret, on entering the Salle the lady, who had remained there all the time, came forward and spoke to me. The message had in some way been misunderstood, and she explained that her father was the chaplain at , that he was obliged suddenly to leave home, and, there being no one to take the duty next day, she had come to the hotel to see if there were an English clergyman there. I told her how sorry I was, but that we were actually starting for Dover by the afternoon train. As there was nothing to be done she went away, poor lady, to try in some other quarter. Two years later I was once more in Paris, this time at the Hotel Meurice. Again it was a Satur- day, and once more a knock at the door introduced a strange lady. She apologised for intruding on us, but pleaded the urgency of her errand. It was this. The gentleman who was then chaplain of the same AMONG MY FATHER'S FRIENDS 109 place was very ill, unable to do any work, and she had come to ask if I would go over from Paris and take the Sunday's duty. Again I was compelled to decline. I was a guest, and so the journey was not practicable. However, I compromised the matter by doing what I could. I gave assistance at the Chapel in the Rue d'Aguesseau, and in this way, I think, it was arranged that the chaplain's place at was supplied. It is interesting to recall that on that first journey of ours we saw the old crane still standing on the temporary roof of the Cathedral at Cologne. The final effort to complete the work must have been begun not long after. Some of the charges noted down in a journal are curious in comparison with those of to-day. I should question, for instance, whether 4 fr. 50 for dinner, bed, and the morning coffee at a well-known hotel in the Zermatt Valley would be now considered an adequate payment ! On the other hand, I am bound to add that the speed and comfort in reaching Switzerland, and the many arrangements that are made for a visitor's pleasure and convenience, more than repay the advance in expenses incurred during your stay. George Harris did not live even into middle age. Dis aliter visum. That active, inspiring life faded out in much weakness and suffering. But when the end came in his father's house, whither he had been able to return from the Riviera, early on a May I io OLD TIMES AND NEW morning in 1874, the words of the writer of Wisdom were surely justified, "He being made perfect in a short time fulfilled a long time. Grace and mercy is with His saints, and He hath respect unto His chosen." On the further side of the lane that skirted my father's grounds is another of the old Torquay typical residences, where at different times two families lived, each of whom furnished a name of considerable celebrity. Here came Mrs. Myers in her widowhood, and formed for a while a home for her three boys Frederick, Ernest, and Arthur. I was the junior of the eldest, and went in consider- able awe of him. As a boy he showed remarkable talent, and I have heard his then tutor, an old friend and colleague of my own, say that he never knew a case of equal brilliance in verse at such an early age. The extraordinary power and beauty of his " St. Paul " may well make us regret that he contributed so little to English poetry. And here also lived for a while Mr. Maxwell Lyte, the famous pioneer of the higher English photography, and kinsman of the saintly author of " Abide with Me." We still possess two specimens of his work done in the Pyrenees during the early fifties. They are achievements nothing less than marvellous at such a date. His works were always signed, with a charming play on the words, Lux fecit. Switzerland was not free from dangers fifty years AMONG MY FATHER'S FRIENDS in ago, that have vanished in our own day. Once when Lyte and a companion had been lodging at a shepherd's chalet in a remote district, the owner of the hut, a gigantic ruffian, savagely assaulted the latter. Lyte rushed in as the Swiss was swinging the single bench that the room contained over his head, to fell the visitor to the ground. He was a remarkably agile man, and he sprang at the assailant, arresting his murderous weapon as it descended. Then all grammar forsaking him in his just indignation, he exclaimed, "Si vous faire cela, je vous frapper beaucoup ! " But there are ways of speaking that can dispense with the rules of syntax. Years afterwards, I remember an Oxford friend being deputed by the rest of his party to remonstrate with a continental landlord on the excessive nature of his charges, delicately open- ing the subject with this singular remark, " Vous nous avez affreusement vole\" Joseph Stephenson, successively Prebendary and Treasurer of Wells Cathedral, was another most familiar figure in my earlier days. His father acquired by purchase an estate at Lympsham, not far from Weston-super-Mare, including the advow- son of the living. His son, who had taken Holy Orders, for a long period of years discharged there the duties of an ideal Squarson. The Manor House, with its exquisitely kept garden, was an object of much interest to many visitors. It was decorated 112 OLD TIMES AND NEW with the armorial bearings of Somersetshire families, and the rooms bore the names of houses or localities connected with the owner. Prebendary Stephenson at the outset of life met with an accident that permanently lamed him. To save the exertion of climbing the stairs more frequently than necessary a lift was contrived at the Manor, one of the first (if not the very earliest) used in a private house. It was his custom to assemble all his servants, the gardeners and outdoor people, as well as the domestics, for prayers at other hours than morning and evening. Probably the arrangements that prevailed more nearly resembled those at Little Gidding in some par- ticulars than anything else. He was an admirable preacher, combining (a very rare gift) great readi- ness with notable lucidity. He died not long since, a true patriarch in the best sense, full of years and benign care for his tenants and dependents. Such men were to be found (though few indeed like him, or his friend Prebendary Horner at Mells) in the last generation. They would be very hard to find to-day, and that, not because there are not men, good and true, who carry out to the full the highest code of responsibility, but because in the inevitable changes of English life and thought such a com- bination is scarcely possible. It is, however, though exceedingly rare, still to be found among us. My old friend was a most diligent pastor. Amidst AMONG MY FATHER'S FRIENDS 113 all his avocations nothing was allowed to interfere with that diligent house to house visitation which he well understood to be the only sound basis of good parochial work. Four times in every year every family was personally visited, while, of course, the daily ministrations to needs spiritual and temporal was independently maintained. He was what is known as a traditional Evan- gelical, but if ever there was a man of generous spirit and breadth of mind it was he. When he was nearly seventy years of age, and still single- handed, he began a weekly celebration at 7.30 a.m. As he was wont to say, " Wisdom neither began, nor will end with me." As might have been expected, he clung steadfastly to the old relations of business and social life. The modern habit of taking the custom of a family away from the local tradesman was particularly repellent to him. A good many years ago he issued a sort of manifesto on the subject in a letter to the Press. He gloried in having his clothes made even by the tailor in the village, and being shod by the shoe- maker hard by. Had there been a village hatter, he said "he should have crowned me." And the end of it all was, in his own vigorous words, " that he was better off on his own modest acres dwelling among his own people, than if he had put his money in ' the Zulu ninety per cents ! ' Doubtless he was. 9 114 OLD TIMES AND NEW I must not close this chapter without honourable mention of one name more. James Cobb, cousin of Gerard, the Cambridge composer who has so recently passed from us, and of the actuary who for many years discharged the legal duties of the Lower House of Convocation, was a close neigh- bour at Torquay. His quiet and retired life was one of remarkable usefulness. It was devoted to the counteracting of pernicious literature by the effectual means of supplying bright and wholesome reading. His stories have had a wide circulation, and he will be long and deeply regretted in many quarters. Probably his best piece of work is the admirable translation of Clery's journal while in attendance on Louis XVI. in the prison of the Temple, under the title of "A Faithful Servant" a book worthy of the widest circulation. Mr. Cobb was a great traveller, and much of his magazine work was due to French and German sources. In his earlier days he was not familiar with the latter language. It was the time of the older coinage, and he used to say humorously that he employed one sovereign remedy against being wronged in financial matters. Whatever change he received he shook his head. This brought either a further instalment, or such an explosion as to satisfy him that he had received what was due. CHAPTER III TIVERTON I WAS for a considerable time one of a group of pupils with a well-known and successful private tutor, the late Rev. J. Richey, at the then somewhat remote village of Stoodleigh, situated on one of the hills that border the beautiful valley of the Exe. The property was then owned by Mr. Thomas Daniel, a son of one of the merchant princes of Bristol, and in those pre-bounty days a man of large wealth. He had done a great deal towards making the district more accessible by constructing a new road from the river level, spanning the stream by an iron bridge, and was altogether a distinctly improving landlord. He was an honest, bluff, kindly gentleman of a bygone school, with a genial welcome, and a well-furnished board. I owed a great deal to him as a growing lad, my first dinner party was at his table, and he always had an eye for the welfare of his young neighbours. Thus n6 OLD TIMES AND NEW began a friendship which has lasted on with those that came after him to the present hour. Amongst the ties that were then formed was a most pleasant one with his son-in-law, the late Rev. Robert Carew, of Bickleigh, a fine specimen of an old Oxford man and English gentleman. I revisited that charming Devonshire village (where the Exe runs swiftly below the stone bridge) but a little while before he died, renewing in my friend's advanced old age the kindly associations of my early life. I had not long before come across a very singular story about a collateral branch which I sent him for his amusement. Happening to be a guest at a Somersetshire house, and being duly shown the interesting and admirably restored parish church, I noticed at the north chancel door the life- size stone effigy of a lady. I had already observed the very familiar crest of the Carew family in the church, and I was told the following bit of family history. A Carew of times past had jilted the lady of his choice. She bided her time, and left direc- tions that after her decease her figure should be placed in the situation I have described. Thus her faithless swain was to be perpetually reproached by her mute remonstrance. A piece of retaliation, this, which is probably of a solitary description. Mr. Carew inherited the Collipriest estate on the death of his brother, but returned to his old home at the Rectory, and there, beneath the shadow of TIVERTON 117 the church which he had served so long and restored so well, he ended his days. Old-world ways were still lingering on in the close of the fifties, and a service as conducted in Stoodleigh Church when I was a pupil at the Rectory would considerably astonish our young friends of the present generation. Certainly the old orchestra was gone, though it lived still in the neighbouring parish of Washfield, and the signal to strike up was the arrival of old Mr. Worth, of Worth, at the churchyard gate. I think Mr. Baring-Gould somewhere laments the dispersion of the Church band, and very rightly so, as it seems to me. Why could it not have been worked in with the revival of better order and better music ? I am bound to say that the difficulties were immense. Still it is a pity that such an element of diffused interest has disappeared. Well, in Stoodleigh Church a good barrel-organ had replaced the fiddles and the flutes, and Tate and Brady had yielded room to a Hymn Book of a very different type, however, from those with which we are now familiar. When the hymn was given out, and the tune had been played over, the congregation rose, and turning round, faced the singing gallery. Some of the tunes, by the way, belonged to the good old Psalmody, the loss of which is bitterly to be regretted, and for which much modern composition appears to some of us a very indifferent substitute indeed. ii8 OLD TIMES AND NEW Our tutor was a learned and deeply religious man of the older type of Low Churchman. He still kept up the custom of walking to church in his gown, and this, as far as I can recollect, was the single old tradition that he maintained. All of us who read with him owe a very deep debt of gratitude for his sound scholarship and careful teaching. The prevailing type of churchmanship among the clergy was the same advanced Protestantism. I remember a discussion being held by a local clerical society as to the advisability of observing Saints' Days and Ember Days. The terms of the proposed debate naively enough "gave away" the whole supposed position of these excellent men as clergy of the Church of England, as the wording went on to state that such observance was at present limited to a party. During my sojourn in the valley of the Exe the neighbouring town of Tiverton was represented by Lord Palmerston, who had as his colleagues, first Mr. Heathcote, and afterwards the Hon. George Denman. From the latter I came to know some- thing of election times in the ancient borough. Lord Palmerston's popularity was of course unbounded. At his last election, only three months before his death, in all the pain and discomfort of illness, he went out, Mr. Denman told me, to a distant farm, the residence of an old supporter, and with difficulty made his way upstairs to see the TIVERTON 119 voter, who was ill in bed. He had a custom of asking his elderly constituents, in a confidential tone, how the "old complaint" was getting on. The effect either way was admirable. Either the person addressed was in good health, and delighted to disown an infirmity, or (and this was, of course, the more frequent sequel) the gratification at a supposed friendly recollection was unbounded. "Only to think that your Lordship remembered that!" At his last election a remarkable evidence of the feeling entertained in Tiverton for the veteran statesman was afforded. It became known to the Conservative agent that his position on the poll was being endangered by "splits," and a confidential note was at once sent to his committee room that the proper steps might be taken. This same election (1865) was an unfortunate one for Mr. Denman, who lost his seat by three votes. Young people who have grown up under the Ballot Act cannot imagine the tremendous excitement that used to attend a contest conducted by open voting. The state of the poll used to be exhibited on a board like the score at a cricket match, and as the hour of closing drew near, the anxiety as to the votes that remained unpolled was keen indeed. And here is a strange episode that occurred at that memorable struggle, as I heard it from Mr. Denman himself. 120 OLD TIMES AND NEW He was advertised to address the electors on a certain Monday morning. In order to fulfil his engagement it was necessary for him to leave Paddington by the 9.15 express, a train familiar enough to West-country folks in the first days of through travelling. He had taken the precaution of ordering a cab over night, and was quietly eating an early breakfast, when attention was called to two or three men who seemed to be hanging about in the neighbourhood of his house. He thought little, however, of the matter, but presently sent his servant to put his luggage on the cab which was due to arrive. The cab approached the door, but before the portmanteau could be located, one of the mysterious strangers jumped in, and was driven rapidly away. And when this happened a second time, it became evident that something very definite was intended. So Mr. Denman consulted his watch, and directing his luggage to be sent after him, he buttoned his coat, and calling to his aid all his old Cambridge training, took a bee-line for Paddington from Lower Eaton Place. It was a curious fact that by unprecedented ill fortune he met not one empty cab, till too near the terminus to be of any service to him. He dashed through the booking office on to the platform, seized the handle of a carriage door as the train was actually starting, and flung himself into a compartment. On arriving at Tiverton he found his committee in a state of extreme anxiety, TIVERTON 121 which gave place to astonishment and relief on his appearance, for the walls of the town were covered with placards warning the Liberal electors that their candidate would not keep his engagement to address them ! Mr. Denman added that of all the smart things he had ever known done, this was the smartest. It failed however in this particular, that the determination of a powerful and most resourceful man had not been taken sufficiently into account. Those who were privileged to possess Mr. Justice Denman's friendship will always preserve the recollection of a personality at once robust and singularly winning. A most conscientious judge, a graceful scholar, and a thorough-going sympathiser with the best and soundest side of athletic pursuits, he was all this, but there belonged to him besides, in a marked degree, the somewhat rare but unfailing charm of good manners. Nor did his interest in, and attention to others stop short at the point of a mere well-bred show of courtesy. When he could see his way he would spare no pains in following up a matter for the advantage of another. I do not go o o on to touch here on ground more sacred still. Talking of elections, in the year 1836 or 1837, there was a contest in the county of Devon between Lord John Russell and Mr. Parker. A young Christ Church man, the late Mr. W. Blundell Fortescue, who, like everybody else, was keenly interested in the struggle, was going back to Oxford 122 OLD TIMES AND NEW a day late, having been detained by a cold. For the same reason, he was travelling as an inside passenger by the coach to Exeter. At Newton Abbott a number of people came round the vehicle while the horses were being changed, outside the " Globe," to hear the news. Now our young traveller was a strong Blue, and not impossibly this was known, for a local Radical called through the window to him, " Did you see Parker bird's-nesting as you came up ?" The question perhaps related to some topic of the moment which has disappeared. Anyhow, it was intended as a barbed shaft The retort was speedy " No, but I saw Russell sheep- stealing ! " Fortunately at this moment the coach drove off, and so the humours of a long-obscured controversy did not pass into the forcible stage that likely enough would have followed. On reaching Christ Church, our late-arrived friend waited on the Dean (Gaisford), who greeted him with the suspicious question, " Election fever, I suppose?" But as the undergraduate was retiring, his superior called him back. " How was the poll when you came away?" But to return to Tiverton. In those days a pleasant feature of the old town was the water that flowed abundantly by the street side, and gave a peculiar freshness to the place. The original Blundell's School buildings were, of course, then in use, and the modern developments were unthought TIVERTON 123 of. One of the greatest achievements of Arch- bishop Temple's episcopate at Exeter was the rearrangement of the parochial disposition that had long prevailed. As is well known, there were four Rectors, who came like Cathedral Canons into successive "residences." But a parish church is not a Cathedral, and my readers will not need to be told that there were all the elements of persistent difference and difficulty always ready to hand. It was a very complicated task that Bishop Temple carried so skilfully through. It would have been yet more perplexing a generation or so earlier. The late Sub-Dean of St. Paul's, Mr. Fiennes- Webber, related to me an example of this in regard of one of the older London parishes. The sub- division had given much offence to some sturdy stickler for the old rights, and when at the luncheon that followed the consecration of a new church, a stranger asked him what the dedication was, he replied, "St. Job, sir." "Dear me!" replied the amazed inquirer, "what a very singular dedication ! " "Not at all, sir, I assure you. It has become of late quite a usual one ! " The daily matins, I think, had always been main- tained. And one lady, who attained a venerable age, and had seen many changes in her time, a number of years ago deplored to me the meagre attendance that then prevailed, as showing great disrespect to the clergy ! a fault, this, of which that 124 OLD TIMES AND NEW staunch and true-hearted woman had certainly not been guilty. Mr. W. Blundell Fortescue, whom I have mentioned in this chapter, has described to me how, on taking his seat as a Governor of the famous school when he attained his majority, seeing that he was Founder's kin, it fell to his lot to hand over to a certain lad, who was leaving, his last prizes. That lad was Frederick Temple, whose great career began with the Balliol Scholarship he took from Blundell's. It was a curious fact that the then Squire of Bridwell, Mr. Clarke, driving past the school one day, pointed out young Temple to his son, from whom I have the story, saying, " That boy will some day be a Bishop." My first sight of the late Archbishop was in the early days of January, 1870. I was on my way into Cornwall, and at Plymouth the newly con- secrated Bishop of Exeter got into the train. The strong feeling that had been aroused by his nomina- tion to the episcopate was fresh in all our minds, and I was not then disposed to look with favour on one whom I subsequently came to know well, and to view with exceptional reverence and admiration. My cousin by marriage, George Collyer Harris, of whom much already has been said in these pages, was one of the considerable minority in the greater chapter of Exeter Cathedral, who had felt it their bounden duty to give an adverse vote on the TIVERTON 12$ receipt of the Conge d'Elire. It was the Bishop's first entrance on the western portion of his diocese, and he was received on the platform of Saltash Station by the Corporation in state. How rapidly he won his way in Devonshire and Cornwall, how thoroughly he disarmed all opposition by his amazing industry, and, as all came to recognise, by the wholeheartedness of his faith, and the splendid example of his life, is a story too well known for further repetition. One characteristic anecdote of those first years at Exeter I will give. He had prepared a bold and comprehensive scheme of Temperance organisation for the diocese, which was duly laid before a gathering of officials and others. One excellent cleric of a bygone day, astonished at the scale on which operations were planned, ventured an inquiry, " Who, my lord, will carry such an enterprise into effect ? " The reply was utterly free from all personal vanity, it was one that only a really great man could have rightly made : "I shall." And so indeed he did. Temperance meetings thirty years ago were sometimes a service of danger, and many of my readers may recall a shameful scene at the Cathedral city, when the platform was rushed by a ruffianly mob, and amidst the uproar, and flinging of bags of flour, the Bishop remained calm and undaunted in his place. Many were the stories that grew up around his remarkable personality : some of them 126 OLD TIMES AND NEW very likely were true while, as often happens in such cases, some incident gave the keynote for subsequent inventions. At least two living instances in the Oxford of to-day might be cited in support. But some, and unquestionably clever, "Temple" anec- dotes cannot stand serious criticism, and an English Bishop told me that once, while waiting at Fulham for some delayed business, those who were present examined the current stories of the day, with the result that not one of them stood the test. It was my own good fortune to be able to set down here an anecdote which can be fully vouched for, as my authority is no other than that of the great Archbishop himself. The narrative was given under these circumstances. A speech had been made at an Executive meeting of the Church of England Temperance Society, as to the deplorably defective administration of the law that continually allows people under the influence of drink to travel by railway, to the extreme annoyance of their fellow passengers. I may remark, in passing, that there is no more difficult duty to be performed by railway officials than that of preventing intemperate persons from entering a train. In point of fact, the obstacles in their way are so numerous as to compel them frequently to go against their own better judgment. We have here a state of things that calls very urgently for redress. Well, the speech was ended, and had been TIVERTON 127 sympathetically received, when the Chairman said, " Now, I will tell you a story. I was travelling in Belgium with my sister, and at a man entered our compartment in an intoxicated state. I immediately went to the stationmaster, and re- quested that he should be removed. This was readily done, but then what was the next step to be taken, and how was the man to be disposed of? The stationmaster solved the problem in this way. He went down the train, and inquired at each com- partment whether there were any English there ? This was the case in two or three instances, but at last he lighted on one where there were none, and into that carriage he promptly put the drunken Belgian." Wise stationmaster ! there were no tiresome people there to write to the Times, or otherwise to make a fuss. It was through my connection with the Society to which I have alluded that I came into relations with the Archbishop, marked on his part by un- deviating kindness. His chairmanship of our Executive was a new experience to me I had never seen anything like it; and well do I recall a certain memorable day, now some years since, when a particularly critical question was before us in the Boardroom at Westminster. It was a tro- pically hot day, the room was crowded, and the proceedings were of an absorbing and anxious character. When the luncheon interval was reached, 128 OLD TIMES AND NEW every member made for the welcome open air with all possible despatch all save the chairman, who sat on through the hour allowed for rest and refresh- ment, intent on the work before him. At 2 p.m. he called order, and immediately resumed operations. Indeed, he was a Chairman of an unsurpassable type. No matter how long or how complicated the discussion might be, he never lost the clue, never lost patience, and never allowed the affairs to get out of hand for a single instant. One day, at the time that he suffered greatly from impaired eyesight, I met him coming upstairs, and he shook hands with me with a kindly greeting. " I know your voice," he said, "but I can't see your face." The last time I saw him was at the Palace at Hereford, where we were both guests of the kindly Bishop. I took the opportunity of telling him that I had recently seen Mr. Fortescue, who gave him his leaving-prizes at Blundell's School. In doing so I made an error as to the headmaster who presided on that occasion, and was immediately set right. The morning of that day he was at his very best, genially addressing the Cathedral School boys, who, according to custom, had sent him a Latin letter, asking his intervention on behalf of a whole holiday. In the evening he addressed a densely crowded audience at the County Hall. He appeared to be in marvellous vigour for a man of his age and TIVERTON 129 laborious life. I never saw him again. Before the year was out, he had entered the Paradise of God. This chapter must close with one last recollection of Mr. Justice Denman. Not very long before his re- tirement from the Bench, he had occasion to go down to Cambridge, and he slept in College. Over night he was, to all seeming, in his usual health, but about three in the morning he awoke with a sharp pain in his side. He took in the situation very clearly, viz., that there was something wrong, and also that no servant would come to his room till seven at the earliest. He possessed a remarkable gift (like Wellington and Napoleon) of going to sleep when he desired it, and so he steadily addressed himself to such repose and quiet as was possible. When he was regularly called, the pain was as bad as ever. He had an important judgment, however, to deliver in London, so he sent a telegram to his doctor to meet him in his private room at the Law Courts, took the train to town, and proceeded to his duties. On examination, as my readers will have already concluded, he was found to be suffering from pleurisy, and was immediately driven home, and to bed. The episode, is, I think, very indicative of his habitual coolness and resolution. 10 CHAPTER IV MAGDALEN WHEN I went to matriculate at Magdalen, I put up at the old "Angel Inn," which then occupied the ground adjacent to Cooper's shop. It was quite a relic of bygone time, and the rooms were dis- tinguished by the names of the Colleges. When one is eighteen, one does not distinguish the intervals of time longer or shorter as we come to do in later life, and when a friend pointed out the still barely legible inscription on the wall of All Souls, " No Bristol murder," I did not realise how nearly those scrawled words connected the undergraduate of that day with a world in the University and out of it, which had wholly and for ever vanished. The Bristol riots of 1831 had little enough significance, either, for the lad stand- ing on the threshold of College life. After matri- culation I went back to London, where I was reading, as it was not expected that any rooms 130 MAGDALEN 131 would be free before the ensuing January term. But about a fortnight later it was found that a set was vacant after all, and so I was summoned into residence. It was, I well remember, October 3ist when I arrived. I came at an awkward hour, for the servants had not come back into College, and I was deposited with my impedimenta at the lodge, and there was nobody to attend to me. Chapel was going on modern Magdalen men will be astonished when I say the hour was 4 p.m. and I strolled into the northern cloister, and listened to the glorious tide of sound that rolled through the venerable buildings, while the painted windows glowed in the twilight from the lights within (I may here mention that Chapel at 9 p.m. was also an institution of those days thus there were four services on week- days). Presently "young Joseph " arrived; he was the son of "old Joseph," who was still an active College retainer, and conducted me to my rooms at the top of the kitchen staircase ; I might allow- ably say the old kitchen staircase, for it was a vastly different place in 1861 from what it is in 1904. One of my first discoveries was the colony of mice who held high revel round, and also, as I averred, the more formidable population of rats. These, like a raw lad, I promptly resolved to exterminate, and so pro- ceeded to deal with them by poison, with results, as regards my neighbours, and their outspoken opinion of me, which I need not further specify. After two 132 OLD TIMES AND NEW terms of these rooms, I applied at Collections for a change of accommodation. Such an advance was not customary for so junior a man, and the Dean, I think, explained to the President that my request was grounded on the annoyance of the rats. Whereupon the President with a certain grimness of humour replied that if any man were to be located in the rooms complained of, Mr. Tetley ought to be that man, seeing that his stature afforded a prospect of holding out longer than other people. However, my petition was granted, and with my first Easter Term, I moved into No. IV. Chaplain's Quad, where I had a range of four windows looking pleasantly over the Grove, where all through the late spring the nightingale's song was heard. Dinner was at 5 p.m. for the last time in my freshman's term. The hour was changed to six with the beginning of 1862. At the same time the growing number of Commoners occasioned the institution of a junior table in the middle of the Hall. Till then the whole of the centre space, and all the left-hand side, except for the Academical Clerk's table, were unoccupied. Somewhere about this same time, the recitation of grace after meat was considerably modified. In my first Magdalen days, it was a lengthy affair, and was given antiphonally by two Demies at a lectern facing towards the high table. A president was appointed at each of the MAGDALEN 133 Commoners' tables, with whom rested the responsi- bility of ordering dinner. The patience of poor old Whiting, the cook, must have been sorely exercised by the way we tried our 'prentice hand. There was, of course, a price per head, beyond which we were not allowed to go. This price, by the way, was lowered in 1862, the Michaelmas term of 1 86 1 having been the last in which the old and more expensive scale prevailed. What between the ideas of the diners, and the limit assigned by the College, Whiting's task was no easy one. "It can- not be done, sir, it really cannot," he used to say, and then one had to try again. On one occasion I fell into dire disgrace. As head of a table, I had ordered a dish with which I was familiar at home chops stewed with macaroni. Somehow there was a mistake in carrying out my wishes, and an ex- ceedingly doubtful preparation was produced for my angry companions to eat. And I remember with undiminished clearness the storm of indignation with which one of the number, afterwards a well-known Lancer, denounced me with having provided "boiled chops " for his dinner. There was a well-intentioned rule as to the youngest commoners carving. As I sat, shy and awkward to a degree, a new arrival in hall, a couple of wild ducks were placed before me, and I was politely invited to commence my task. Hope- less, and painfully blushing, I murmured my total 134 OLD TIMES AND NEW inability. " Beg your pardon, sir, Senior Com- moner's compliments and you are expected to carve them." Desperate, I seized the knife, and by sheer force succeeded in hewing through the bird trans- versely. My awkwardness secured my deliverance. An angry order, " Take it away from him," left me confused but unencumbered. I wonder, by the way, whether the failure to appear in a black coat at dinner is still visited with a "sconce" of a bottle of Common-room sherry? There was another custom of requiring the junior man to eat a dish of furmenty on the fourth Sunday in Lent. Happily for me I was never in the position to be thus provided, for one or two men came up after me, and before the day of ordeal. On May 29th the loving-cup was passed round the Hall after dinner, and the curious old punning toast given, "Jus suum cuique" which may be freely rendered thus : " Every man his wine, and the King his own." If the custom is not now maintained, the reason would doubtless be the very great increase of numbers. But it is possible that it still exists. I have alluded to the President. His dignified bearing well became the College. I have often since those days thought that Sydney Smith's saying as to Bishop Blomfield might be applied most appropriately to our old chief. His appear- ance as he passed to his stall was so exactly that of MAGDALEN 135 the " Church of England " going to Chapel. And his stateliness was the least part of him, so to say. He was a truly good man, a sound old-fashioned divine, a thorough Latinist, and a most equitable ruler. My readers will have noticed that he pos- sessed a sense of humour. Once upon a time an undergraduate, the story ran, was delated to him for discoursing the strains of comic songs on Sunday evening. For some good reason, doubt- less, the President considered that the case might best be met with a pleasantry. " Mr. , I must request, sir, that you will not sing mundane songs on Sunday." It was while I was residing that the President took a chill on " progress," and became so seriously ill that he was obliged to leave Oxford for a considerable part of the winter, and reside at Torquay. I have been told that he rose from his bed, and went out at night to minister to a dying man, at the very time that his own health was in an anxious state. He recovered, and lived for many years afterwards. While he was staying at Torquay, and under my father's care, the latter, coming out of his chambers on the Strand one evening, saw the President out walking. The hour was too late for safety, and my father stopped him and sent him straight home in his own carriage. Feeling anxious about the risk that had been run, my father called the next morning to see to his patient, and found to his great relief that he 136 OLD TIMES AND NEW was none the worse for his imprudence. Then the President said to him, "Are you aware that you have done what no one else has ever done to me ? " " What is that? " was the inquiring reply. " Why, sir, you met me in the street, you proctorised me, and you sent me to my College ! " No, indeed, I do not think the President had ever experienced an encounter of that sort with the custodians of the University. And this incident reminds me of another, and a very different proctorial matter. It must have been about the middle of my time that an out- College man played some trick on those august personages. It was said that he had turned the key left in the door of their official room. Be this as it may, he was seen and pursued. The chase grew hot, and the fugitive had only just succeeded in getting within Magdalen when the bull-dogs came up. But it was dark, and he was well out of reach. The Proctor communicated with the College authorities, but the search was in vain. And it very well might be, for their quarry had crossed over to the new buildings, where an old Etonian friend of his had rooms on the ground floor. There he lay perdu till the quest was quiet, and then, gently lowering himself into the deer-park, with a cap and gown borrowed from his host, he crossed over to the corner by Holywell, and pre- sently entered his own lodge in academical costume. MAGDALEN 137 He was never discovered, but the adventure, oddly enough, considerably affected me. The morning after the exciting chase I have described, the Dean (it is a pleasure to give his name, Humphrey Cholmeley), sent for me, and proceeded to inform me that "an outrage" on University discipline had taken place the previous evening, and that he was very sorry to add that there was reason to connect the affair with me, as a man had passed out of College close on midnight, giving my name as that of the undergraduate from whose rooms he had come. This was the first I had heard of such a thing, and I strenuously denied any knowledge whatever of the proceeding. Cholmeley only asked me, " On your honour, is this so ? " and when I answered in the affirmative he said immediately, "That is quite sufficient." I never was troubled again about the matter, but I did eventually discover how it came about. A man who had rooms near me wanted leave to stay up during the Easter vacation. It would have been very difficult to obtain it, if he was thought to be keeping late hours. However, on that parti- cular evening, he had some men in his rooms. Time wore on, and when one of them who belonged to another College took his departure, it was near the witching hour. So, to avoid any complaint about his host, my name was given at the lodge without my knowledge of what was 138 OLD TIMES AND NEW done. Consequently, when the porter's list was shown, there seemed to be a promising clue of the escapade in regard to the Proctors. As a matter of fact, they were totally distinct, but Humphrey Cholmeley's gentlemanly conduct saved me from what might easily have been a very vexatious business. The mention of the porter reminds me that this official was still a "tonsor" when I first went up, and that on the request of a friend who was staying with me in College, he came in the morning 'and shaved him. But it was not only from the visit of the genuine Proctor that Magdalen formed the subject of con- versation at this time. A pseudo-proctor from our own walls, drest in a little brief authority, and accompanied by a bull-dog whose claim to attend his leader was on a level with that of the leader to represent the interests of law and order, made his way along the streets, was gravely bowed to by a don of his own College, and somehow escaped detection. There was a photograph taken of the audacious couple which may still be found in the books of old Magdalen men. The sad part of my story is that both are no longer amongst us. There was a newly-enacted law in 1861 that every Magdalen undergraduate should for his first year attend Dr. Daubeny's lectures at the Botanic Gardens. This arose, I imagine, from the endow- MAGDALEN 139 ment of the Waynflete Professorships from the ten suppressed fellowships of the College. I had no particular pleasure, it may readily be believed, on being singled out by the Professor on my first appearance as the " son of a man of science," and being invited to take a front seat. Truth to tell, we keenly resented the obligation to go every week to this particular Lecture. I daresay if we had been ordinarily wise, we might have learned a good deal, though there was no actual task enjoined. But we were silly boys, and used to evade the obligation to the utmost of undergraduate power, which is saying a great deal. At last it reached such a point that we waited till 12.15 before we chose to enter. But also at last dear old Daubeny's patience finally gave way. I recollect arriving late as usual, and finding him sitting silent in his chair. Presently he got up and said, " Gentlemen, as you have done me the honour to arrive fifteen minutes after time, I will ask you to remain here fifteen minutes later than one o'clock." There was no help for it. We were fairly caught, and every old Oxford man will appre- ciate the inconvenience of being too late for the College servants on their round of inquiry as to luncheon arrangements. The author of that most charming tale, " Ravens- hoe," with a touch of true Oxford recollection, describes his hero when anaesthetised for an opera- 140 OLD TIMES AND NEW tion faintly being reminded of Dr. Daubeny's experiments. They were a great feature of his learned addresses, and were conducted by his butler, whom he invariably addressed by both names as " John Harris," but, unfortunately, they did not invariably come off, and sometimes the warning of an impending explosion was followed by an ill-timed silence, and, possibly, vice versa. After I had taken my degree I was honoured one night by an invitation to dine with the Professor. There were various pundits there, and the conversation became so engrossing that our host omitted to ring for lights. It was in the height of summer, and we had dined without artificial illumination. In this obscurity my next-door neighbour, a diner-out of another order, filled his glass from two different decanters, and subsequently expressed his opinion as to the obvious defects of scientific men. The first Bursar with whom I had business rela- tions was Rev. Andrew Edwards, B.D. He was, I think, called Mr. Edwards, with a certain emphasis, because, unlike the majority of the Fellows in Holy Orders, he had not proceeded to the Doctor's degree. We used to receive a notice that the Bursar would attend in the Bursary on a particular day within certain hours to receive payment. The good Bursar belonged to a school which now, to our great loss, scarcely survives stately, courteous, old-fashioned if you will. Certainly there was no MAGDALEN 141 likelihood of mistaking him for a butler. Yet this, until he had seen him, was the extremely funny error into which one of my cotemporaries fell. Let Magdalen (or, for that matter, all Oxford) men of the early sixties fancy an undergraduate appearing in the jacket of the day, and the still somewhat new "pot " hat, on such an occasion as paying Battells (" Tetley debet pro Batellis " used to be on the slip of blue paper that recorded the liabilities), and they can also picture the scene that ensued. The culprit took the highly inopportune occasion of asking per- mission to change his old sash windows into case- ments, so as to secure a larger supply of air. Needless to say, he was promptly refused. But being, like Ulysses, a man of many counsels, he removed the windows altogether, and all through the superb summer of 1862 certain rooms in the cloisters might have been seen, as possibly they were in their primitive condition, with apertures unglazed. Dr. Bloxam was still resident when I entered the College. As I write I seem to see the tall, slight figure, clad in a cloak which was fastened at the neck by what some one once most aptly described as a " small door chain." And then there were two others, prominent men among the Dons, as unlike as any two could be, John Rigaud and Dr. Fisher. The latter was elected from Brasenose to Magdalen, and successful against Harold Browne, he once told 142 OLD TIMES AND NEW me, as his competitor. It would be to repeat an oft-told tale to say how many years he lived in College, and what a typical English country gentle- man he was. Perhaps a considerable number of people were quite unaware what an excellent scholar he was also, and how carefully he kept in touch not only with the classics but also with modern French. His stories of Dr. Routh were a subject of great amusement, and one of his own personal experiences at the old President's lodgings I will take leave to tell, in the hope that to some at least of my readers it may be new. Both the President and Mrs. Routh were so exceedingly deaf that the servants had come to presume on the fact, and to forget that other people's hearing was normal. It so happened that Dr. Fisher was dining with them one day when there was a dish served which was much to the old man's taste, but his faithful consort, knowing it to be unfit for him, interposed with, " No, dearest, not that." Whereupon the guest heard the butler remark, " Bother the woman ! If she were my wife I'd poison her." I think all old members of the College would agree with me in saying that Rigaud was one of the most simply good men they ever knew. His blameless life was ended out of the precincts, at his house in Holywell, where he lived with his sister. The " General," his brother, so long a familiar figure in Magdalen, died some years ago, and with MAGDALEN 143 the demise of Miss Rigaud a family name that seemed an integral part of the Society ceased to be in Oxford. My first tutor was Chaloner Chute, who after- wards succeeded to his paternal estate, the Vyne, and died, deeply regretted, at a comparatively early age. Among the men of my own standing there is one name which no lapse of time will ever obscure for his cotemporaries. If the Magdalen graduates who date from the year 1861 to 1864 were asked what personality remains most prominent in their memory, it is pretty certain that all, or nearly all, would say Philip Welby. The charm of his sym- pathy behind a certain reserve of manner was as wonderful as his power of influence was great. For all his quiet bearing or rather, indeed, because of it not even the men whose whole manner of life was at variance with his own could ignore the spell of his character, or be angry at what, by force of contrast, so reflected on their own lower code. The simplicity of mind which was united with the per- fection of good breeding constituted an influence, indeed, such as must be exceptional among any group of men. He did not live many years after going down. Consumption laid its grasp on him, and though he went out to South Africa it was in vain. He reached St. Helena, where his uncle was Bishop, and there he died in 1873, the same year as 144 OLD TIMES AND NEW our great visitor, Bishop Wilberforce, suddenly exchanged conversation with his friend on the Surrey Downs, as it was beautifully said by the Archbishop of Armagh, " for the deep swell of the angels' song." Much has befallen his old friends in the years that have intervened, times of light and times of shadow have come and gone, but the rare beauty of a character it was their privilege so intimately to know remains and will continue, honoured and unforgotten. It was not till my time at Magdalen was some- what advanced that I became intimate with John Stainer. At one period I saw a great deal of him, and much later on in life I found in him a friend to whose confidence I could entrust matters of an anxious character, and from whom I received unde- viating kindness and willing help. It once fell to my lot on a public occasion to allude to him, and I described him as "the gifted and the good." These terms may be emphatically repeated. To any one who knew the Magdalen Choir in the early sixties it will seem the barest justice to say that only a true genius (seconded, indeed, by a great tradition) could have succeeded in producing the results that were the delight of all Oxford. There were at that time four academical and four non-academical clerks. Of the former, one had been elected on the highest personal, but not musical grounds. Of the latter, one had passed MAGDALEN 145 completely, and another partially, into what may be called " the pension stage." With these deduc- tions, there was certainly no superabundance of material for the maestro to work upon. It should, however, be remembered that just at this time the choir was reinforced by that famous alto and scholarly musician, W. A. Barrett. It is not possible to describe the effect on a youth brought for the first time under the daily spell of Church music rendered as it was in the College Chapel. Nor do I speak only of things that were common to other " choirs and places where they sing." Magdalen men of my own day can never fail to recall the charm, for instance, of the chants for the Psalms that were then in use. Stainer had taken his Mus. Bac. at an early age, and resided his terms for the B.A. at St. Edmund^ Hall, where he was brought into association with the Rev. H. P. Liddon, then Vice-Principal, and destined to be united with him in after-life in the wonderful revival of Church activity at the Cathedral of St. Paul. I well remember the inte- rest aroused when he proceeded to the Doctorate, and his " Gideon " was performed as the statutory exercise. One great feature of those days was the Madrigal practice in Hall on Saturday evenings. The early hour of dinner (6 p.m.) left ample scope for such purposes, and there were many who enjoyed the benefit of Stainer's skilful instructions. ii 146 OLD TIMES AND NEW I append one or two anecdotes thoroughly characteristic of the man. One morning after Chapel, Edward Handley, then Honorary Secretary of the Madrigal Society, Stainer, and I were walk- ing together to our lodgings. The conversation turned on the programme to be drawn up for the season then beginning. It was so like Stainer to answer, " Let us see the Doctor (Corfe) before we do anything. We are all striplings, you know, by him." Once upon a time he and Mrs. Stainer (as she then was) were having a holiday in the Alps. They took up their quarters at an hotel on high ground, where on Saturday arrived a clergyman who was to act as Chaplain for the month. Seeing an Englishman in the house, and not having the least idea of his identity, he eagerly asked his assistance in turning out a harmonium which he understood was put away in an outhouse. The help was given at once, and the instrument duly discovered. But then the question arose, who was to play on it at the services on the following day ? With modesty the great musician replied that he thought he could do some little in that direction. This, however, was not to be, for it was quickly seen that the depredations of rats during the winter months had effectually disposed of the bellows. The poor cleric was sadly disconcerted, but pre- sently, brightening up, he asked his companion MAGDALEN 147 whether, as he had allowed a small capacity for using the harmonium, he possessed a like ability to lead the hymns unaccompanied ? Again, with im- perturbable good humour, Stainer admitted a limited power of complying with his request. We can all imagine the skill with which this was done. The gratified Chaplain complimented him highly on his achievement. " Come, come, my dear sir, you are much too diffident as to your powers." And then my old friend thought the time was come to declare himself, which he did in the follow- ing way : " Perhaps I ought to have introduced myself as John Stainer, and to have said that I am the head organ-grinder at St. Paul's ! " During many years of his life he was sorely beset by aspiring composers, who sent him the scores of their works for his opinion. At last he threatened to prepare a circular to be issued in reply : " Dear Sir or Madam, I have received the composition you sent me, and much like it." One is reminded of a similar utterance attributed to the late Earl of Beaconsfield, and it would be interesting to see if further polite apologies could be constructed on the same lines. One last anecdote of Stainer before I pass on. After writing " Lead, kindly light," he submitted it to a mutual friend from youth onwards, and, in pur- suance of the suggestions he offered, the treatment 148 OLD TIMES AND NEW of the last verse was modified. Like all gre,at men, John Stainer was unaffectedly humble. The late Dean of Winchester W. R. Stephens was a distinguished member of Balliol, and not a Magdalen man, but it comes naturally to me to write of him under the head of my own College. And for this reason : he took his Doctor's degree with me in December, 1901, being like myself a guest of the President's while reading his exercises in the Divinity School. It was, of course, a most natural arrangement considering the very close relationship that exists between Winchester and Magdalen. The Bishop of that See is ex officio our Visitor, and our founder's tomb is in his Cathedral church. Dean Stephens's many friends will bear an unani- mous testimony to the very rare union of gifts that adorned him. No occupation, however absorbing, diminished in any degree that primary sense of his high calling, to which in very truth all else in his life was made subsidiary. He always seemed to me a student of a singularly attractive type. There was nothing in him of a self-assertive or paradoxical character no showiness, no im- patience, no irritating display of superiority. As a historian and as a biographer he had indeed made his mark. As a friend and as a delightful companion he has left innumerable and charming memories. It was a most pleasant house for a guest. The Dean was a brilliant raconteur. MAGDALEN 149 His accurate memory, excellent taste, and keen sense of humour, ensured you a pleasant proportion of good anecdotes. The lofty tone that prevailed, the excellence of quality in whatever pursuit he was engaged, the unfailing geniality in it all it was a matching with the exceptional beauty of sur- roundings that can never suffer eclipse while memory abides. Previous to his tenure of the Deanery he was a Prebendary of Chichester. The Stall which he occupied had some specific duties attached to it a Readership, I think, in theology. It was for this reason, I imagine, that it escaped what Arch- bishop Benson called "the smooth mowing" that took away, two generations since, the endowments of all save the residentiary posts. There was a small income which arose from some house pro- perty. In order to provide for future repairs Prebendary Stephens insured the life of the Duke of Clarence for a considerable sum. On his early and unlooked-for death this money fell in contrary to all possible expectations. It was just like Stephens not to use it for his own advantage, but to lay it out to a considerable extent with a view to the public good. Here is just one of his amusing stories that occurs to me. It was illustrative of the danger, I presume, that attaches to the ignorant use of a vocabulary. Some English people, having left the ISO OLD TIMES AND NEW railway, had engaged a carriage for a cross-country expedition in France. After going some distance the vehicle began to rock in a very ominous way. It was obvious enough what had happened, and they sought to call the impassive driver's attention to it. If, however, the swaying of the carriage did not have this desired result, the terms in which the situation was described were scarcely likely to do so. " Le printemps est casse ! " Apropos of Deans and the Doctor's degree, a predecessor of his at Winchester had a very narrow escape of returning home disappointed. An abso- lutely essential feature of the ceremony is the pre- sentation of Letters of Priest's Orders to the Vice- Chancellor. It was only the evening previous to the Degree day that this was realised by the divine in question after his arrival at Oxford. An imme- diate telegram to the Registrar in his Cathedral city, by singular good fortune, found that official on the spot. He was just in time to get off the necessary document by post, and thus the situation was just, but only just, saved. FLoreat Magdalena ! The College has been kind to me in youth as in later days. I close these scanty gleanings from the past by repeating some words spoken one perfect day in June within those venerable walls : "With something better than critical approval, with the affection of sons towards a generous and MAGDALEN 151 illustrious mother, we gaze once more on the unequalled beauty around us. In years to come may that vision be unfadingly before our sight, a witness to the unseen which it so wonderfully reveals for a pledge of noble lives that have been lived in this place, a pledge to us to-day as the summer sun touches in turn each line of symmetry, each detail of exquisite skill, that at last for us too the day shall dawn and the day-star arise in our hearts." CHAPTER V > OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES SOON after I was settled at Magdalen my uncle came down from London to see how I was getting on. He was an Exeter man, and in his day had rowed in the College boat. Some years had elapsed since he had visited the University, and during the interval the old Chapel of his College had been re- moved, and the present edifice substituted for it. We went together that we might see it. He viewed the new building with admiration, but with inevitably mingled regret for the disappear- ance of all that had once been so familiar. Pre- sently I heard him speaking with a tone of delighted surprise. After all there was something left. In the centre of the new Chapel he had recognised the old eagle, and he added, " I knew him by his claws ! " Amongst the most distinguished residents in Oxford during my early days was Goldwin Smith. 152 OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES 153 It was related of him that on one occasion in his undergraduate career he was sent for on some busi- ness by the College Dean. Now this official was a staunch stickler for the etiquette of an already bygone time, and expressed considerable annoyance with his distinguished junior for not having donned a pair of bands. The demand was met by Goldwin Smith cutting out a gigantic substitute from a sheet of white cartridge paper. The story does not go on to relate the sequel as regards the Dean. But it is said to be the last instance of such a demand being made. The Master of University was of course Dr. Plumptre the "P.P. 7 feet" of Verdant Green and who, the story goes, used to allude to Queen's as "the place over the way." He was, as the quotation just made indicates, a man of con- siderable stature, exaggerated in appearance by his remarkably slim figure. It was understood that there was a great deal of difficulty in getting him to move forward with the new necessities of the times. On one occasion some of the fellows were discussing what steps could be adopted to induce their chief to take action. And when first one and then another suggestion had been made, Goldwin Smith astonished the rest by remarking, " I should like to stroll over him in cricket shoes." It would be difficult to match the caustic significance of this witty and singular sentence. 154 OLD TIMES AND NEW Through my father's acquaintance with the Provost of Oriel it was my good fortune, far more appreciated in later life than at the time, to be brought into association with this notable per- sonage. I shall never forget one act of kindness on his part. He invited me to meet Mr. Gladstone and Sir W. Heathcote at his house. Certainly there are not many men of the Provost's position at any time who would go out of their way to remember a youth in so thoughtful a manner as this. Another distinguished member of the University with whom I came in contact as a Professor, and who also was one of my father's many acquaint- ances, was Dr. Jacobson, afterwards Bishop of Chester. The stories told of him are many. Perhaps the following are not familiar to men of this present time. In his old tutorial days a man in lecture was pounding, after the manner of youth, through a passage of Sophocles, and rendering the Greek into the baldest of English. Hopelessly floundering over the words wa^xo^ avaaau, he was caught up by Jacobson, who with nothing less than a stroke of genius suggested as a trans- lation, " He is the Warden of All Souls" On another occasion it came to the turn of a man whom Jacobson well knew to be notorious in College for his bad language to translate a passage in which some strong expressions occurred. He OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES 155 was proceeding with his task in a somewhat mincing manner when the lecturer interrupted him sharply by the remark highly appreciated by his listeners " Oh, pray go on, sir, it won't foul your mouth ! " Cotemporaries of mine who attended his dis- courses in St. Frideswide's Chapel will remember how at one point in the series there came a for- midable list of books, numerous and bulky, which our kindly instructor recommended for our private study. Now, on one occasion, one of his listeners, who was unluckily in full view, grew exceedingly impatient, and the following amusing peroration of the lecture ensued. After closing the list of volumes Dr. Jacobson continued without any break, " and I trust that the gentleman sitting near me who has looked at his watch every three minutes for the last quarter of an hour, has not found himself inconvenienced by the length to which my remarks have been extended. Mr. Adams, here ? Mr. Barber, here ? Mr. Clark, here?" &c. There was never a more scrupulously conscien- tious man than he. Those who have read Dean Burgon's delightful book, " Twelve Good Men," will recall a remarkable instance of this feature of his character. And here is another case in point. I was too late to obtain admittance to the last lecture in his course, having attended another 156 OLD TIMES AND NEW lecture at the hour immediately preceding. When I went with the rest to ask for my certificate it was bluntly refused. I pleaded the excuse I have now stated. " I don't see why I am to be made the one to come off short," was the reply, followed presently, however, by a gruff command to sit down and wait till the other certificates were filled in. He then called me up and wrote as follows : " I certify that Mr. James George Tetley, B.A., of Magdalen College, attended all my lectures except the last one, having been accidentally detained." And with this I was fain to be content when I subsequently approached the Bishop of Llandaff. One other instance of his characteristic caution before I pass on. In after days, when he was Bishop of Chester, a considerable discussion had taken place in the Cathedral city as to the theo- logical school of a certain preacher who was invited to deliver a sermon. It appeared that both the great parties in the Church were variously credited with his sympathies. The day came and the Bishop was there. After the service was over one of the dignitaries came up to him and said eagerly, " Now, my lord, you have heard this man, and I am sure you will agree with me that he is a High Churchman." " Not in the least," rejoined another. " I appeal to your lord- ship to bear me out in what I have said. His sermon shows him to be what he is a Low OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES 157 Churchman." " Well," replied the cautious old prelate, "you say he is High, and you, sir, say he is Low. Now, for my part, I say that I con- sider him long." A delightful determination of a moot question ! But Chester is a far cry from Oxford. My first Commemoration was that of 1862, and it was in many ways a famous one. Lord Palmerston received the D.C.L. degree amidst the enthusiastic cheers of a crowded theatre. But, above all, it was the only time it ever fell to my lot to hear Jenny Lind sing, and I fancy it must have been one of the last occasions on which that matchless voice was heard in public. In another, and far less harmonious sense, this Commemoration was remem- bered through a noisy demonstration against the Proctors. A Pro. named Washbourne West, a well-known Fellow of Lincoln, came in for a full share of unpopularity. Years afterwards, when I was curate of Badminton, I was so unwell at the close of a week just after Easter that the doctor forbade me to attempt any duty. A telegram despatched to Oxford, to the " immortal Spackman," a well-known agent in such matters, brought in reply a promise of assistance. To my great amuse- ment who should arrive but " Washy " West ! He took a very early opportunity of referring to that fateful Commemoration in which he had to sustain so unwelcome a part. He could not help doing 158 OLD TIMES AND NEW what was an ungrateful task, but undergraduates are not very equitable judges. This Mr. West had, I believe, more voting qualifications than any man in England, and was once honoured by a special mention from Mr. Bright in a great speech on the franchise. West never, I think, neglected an opportunity of acquiring a small property which carried with it the freeholder's suffrage. And I well remember how he unfolded to me the system on which he acted during an election. He mapped out his different constituencies, and then arranged his train journeys accordingly, so as not to lose even one of his prized opportunities, so far as it was possible to utilise them. He was, in fact, an adept of the first order in this particular line, and must have been highly prized by his own political party. This summer term I made the acquaintance of a London clergyman whose name for many years was often and honourably before the public Septimus Hansard, afterwards rector of Bethnal Green. At that particular time he was taking a short spell of rest, and came to Oxford. My relative, Mrs. Lukin, wrote me a letter of intro- duction to him, in which, in her delightful old- world way, she spoke of him as having "quell'd the St. George's in the-East riots." This possibly was an over-statement, but he was assuredly a manly and pleasant person. He knew exactly (a very rare thing by the way) how to associate with OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES 159 younger men in their rooms, and share their hospitality, without compromising for a moment his own proper position. He was not unskilful with his pencil, and one summer's day he swiftly made a charming little sketch of the Cherwell for me, which I think I still possess among some treasures of past days. And talking of the Cherwell reminds me of a grotesque gaucherie of which I was guilty soon after I came into residence. I was punting myself about, and ran with such violence into another punt, as to shoot the unfortunate occupant out of his vessel into the turbid water. As he emerged therefrom, I addressed him (what could have com- pelled me to do so it is difficult to say) with the extraordinary inquiry, " I beg your pardon, sir, I hope you are not wet ? " And he, with a grim humour almost beyond his years, replied, " Oh, dear, no, I assure you, not at all." Who he was I never knew. But it is a singular proof both of the tenacity and the unreliability of Oxford (and other) stories, that quite recently I found the absurd episode was still retailed in Magdalen, but with additions of a totally fictitious kind. This same summer, if memory serves me rightly, a notable figure passed away from Oxford life in the person of Ridsdale of Wadham. He bore the unusual Christian names of Septimus Otter Barnes, and his career was more singular than his prefixes. 160 OLD TIMES AND NEW What with school and College Exhibitions, and his Wadham Scholarship, he enjoyed an income of some ^250 a year " off his own bat." And this expression is particularly appropriate, as towards the close of his University career he played once at least in the University Eleven. But the notable thing in his outdoor pursuits was this. He was just small enough to steer the crew at Putney, and he did so. There are well-known instances of men who have rowed in the Eight, and played in the Eleven. But I do not remember ever to have heard of another case where the cox of the boat was also a cricket Blue. Ridsdale took the Indian Civil direct from Wadham, and died at a com- paratively early age. The following year there was an extraordinary excitement over the Torpids. Exeter was head of the river, and every afternoon the race between the leading boat and Brasenose, which was second, was of the closest possible description. One day the bump was claimed, but, after a hearing on the University barge, was disallowed. So Exeter flew the top flag to the close, and a song from the pen of some enthusiastic partisan ran something in this fashion : "That afternoon the bump would come, in B.N.C. 'twas said, And the black and yellow colours gained on the black and red, OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES 161 But stroke straightway he rowed away, as strokes know only how, And seven and six and five and four and three and two and bow ! " Truly as ingeniously an inclusive compliment as can well be imagined. The volunteer spirit ran very high at this time. In Magdalen we had at least two officers of the University Corps, one of them a noted shot. And of course the pressure on men coming up was pretty strong especially if one happened to reckon six feet in one's height. " No. VI. Company " was the destination of Magdalen men, and it so fell out that most of us had the quality of stature, if nothing else. The Prince of Wales, who had gone down not very long before, was of course the Hon. Colonel of the Corps, and when the Princess made her memorable entry into London, a detachment from the University was given the place of honour at the Marble Arch. I shall certainly never forget that day. We were conveyed to Town at an early hour in third-class carriages of the period i.e., with no other equipment than the actual wooden bench. We were four hours accomplishing the distance between Oxford and London. At last we got to Paddington, and were speedily marched to our appointed place to the strains of the then popular song "I'm a young man from the country, But you don't get over me." 12 162 OLD TIMES AND NEW Once arrived there was nothing to do but to wait with such patience as we could muster. No kind of provision had been made for us, and we had no food whatever from breakfast at seven till- late in the afternoon. Our kindly Adjutant, the deservedly popular and much lamented Captain Foxcroft Jones, somehow managed to get us quickly re- moved after the Princess had passed, and bade us secure some dinner as soon as we could manage it. Two of us ran down and made our way by Piccadilly to the old Wellington dining-rooms, a familiar resort for clubless people, which then stood at the top of St. James's Street, occupying the site of the old Crockford's. There we were fortunate enough to find a vacant table, and to obtain a meal before beginning the return journey. It was " to- morrow" before we got back, and when it is remembered that we carried long Enfields, which were more like a duck-gun than any modern arms, it will be understood that we had had about enough of it. An intimate friend who has just passed away Edward Handley used to go with me for some time, when I was not reading Honour subjects, to coach with Hubert Cornish, soon afterwards, and for many years, the deservedly beloved head of the now defunct New Inn Hall, familiar to all old Oxford men as " The Tavern." Dr. Cornish lived in the Broad, in a house opposite Balliol. Like OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES 163 many good old town residences, it had a garden at the back. At the end of it was a sort of a large summer house which was fitted up as a study, and there his pupils used to read with him. Cornish was an ideal pass-tutor. He never condescended to cram, and those who really worked at their books found in him not only a very able instructor, but also a very wise and kindly friend. He was a Devonshire man (it goes without saying) and a neighbour at home, so he may have taken some special interest in me, but I always feel that I owe him a life-long debt for what I learned from him. His knowledge of his work was so thorough and so practical, that he was made " Master of the Schools " an altogether unusual number of times. A genial, honest, affectionate man, he belonged to a race of Oxford graduates that has passed away, and the world is the poorer for their loss. Once upon a time a man came to him for coach- ing, and, as usual, Cornish told him to do some prose that he might judge of his ability and his needs. It was done. I happened to be in the room, and can never forget the single word vouch- safed as a comment. " Piscosissimus ! " a suffi- ciently intelligent superlative. And it is worth recording that the writer who earned this depre- ciative notice was so helped on by Cornish as to secure his degree, and afterwards did excellent work as a clergyman. 164 OLD TIMES AND NEW At that time we took up the Old Testament generally for the degree ; I mean, that we were liable to be asked questions in any part of it. And one day my friend and I were reading with Cornish in the Kings how " the rest fled to Aphek, and there a wall fell upon twenty and seven thousand." He stopped us, and in a few terse sentences safe- guarded both of us from the kind of argument which, he warned us, we were sure to be assailed by when we had left Oxford, and gone out into the world. His explanation of the Hebrew numerals, and the vast differences occasioned by a small error on the part of a copyist, has been to me, again and again, of the largest possible service. 1 He had an amusingly blunt way of putting things. One day he said to us, " Never trust a man who tells you he has got a conscience. once paraded his conscience to me, and, sure enough, it was no long while after that he was discommonsed for irregularities." In those days we used to have " Aldrich's Logic," the Latin version, as a text-book in the schools. Perhaps one of the oddest mistakes ever made in an examination had to do with a passage contained in this volume on Induction. A man 1 I am aware, of course, that this view of the numbers in the Old Testament is disputed in the present day. I speak simply of the advantage it was to us when we learned that we were not tied to the exact figures. OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES 165 who had passed a sufficiently correct examination was asked at the end of his viva voce why he had chosen such a curious illustration of induction as " This, that, and the other nobleman draws his sword, therefore they all do so." He replied that it was the instance given in the Dean's book, and he had therefore faithfully reproduced it. The words in the original are, " Hie, ille, et iste magnes trahit ferrum, ergo omnes." My non-classical readers will kindly understand that magnes is a magnet (not magnate), and its drawing qualities with regard to iron need no further explanation. Let us hope our ingenious but mistaken friend obtained the blue paper, which has long passed out of knowledge ! There really is no need to manufacture "how- lers," or rather there would be none if examiners were at liberty to divulge secrets. For instance, it is quite impossible that the line, " Surgit amari aliquid medio de fonte leporum," was ever set in a Pass School, and so the time-honoured translations, " There arises something from the middle fountain to be loved by the hares," given to the examiner. But in a prose paper (not for the schools) I have myself seen, " There were no augurs," rendered into, " Nulla perforacula erant ! " The cox of one of the competing Cambridge boats at Henley told me one day on the river the story of a "howler" that may fairly claim a place with the best of such feats. He had tried to teach Euclid to a particu- 166 OLD TIMES AND NEW larly dull pupil. At last the time came to test the lessons by an examination. " What is a plain super-ficies ? " he asked. The reply was, " That in which the interior angles are greater than two right angles ! " Another senior member of the University, from whom I received many a kindness, and whose memory in common with many others I hold in grateful regard, was Dr. Corfe, organist of Christ Church and Choragus. It must have been through the Magdalen Madrigal Society that I first came to know him. He always came on Saturday evening to take part in our weekly meeting in Hall. I used to share a score with him, and had thereby the immense advantage of his help. He was a thoroughly sound musician of the old Cathedral school. His father had been organist of Salisbury, his brother was for a great number of years organist of Bristol Cathedral. Used as he was to the old- fashioned ways, he threw his whole soul into the cause of improvement of the services and Church order generally. Among my last recollections of him is the satisfaction he showed at the admirable rendering of the Litany at Christ Church. The first time he saw me after my ordination was unex- pectedly in the street at Oxford. All he said at the moment was, " Go home, boy." He knew well as a veteran in Oxford that it did not do for young clerics to hang about the scenes of their under- OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES 167 graduate days. I cannot remember now how near the end it was that I saw him for the last time, but I recollect one highly characteristic interview in his latest days. He had been showing me some new things in Oxford, and when we parted at the corner of Beaumont Street he said, " Well, now, as the old Oxford guides used to say when they reached the gates of Magdalen Walks, ' This here, gentlemen, is the famous walks three miles (sic) round. Would you like to go ? ' By this time nothing could have been more unwelcome to the tired sightseers than any such expedition. ' Very well, then, gentlemen, here I take leave of you. My fee, as allowed by the University, is 53. (a pre- posterous invention), but you can give me what more you may like.' ' Talking of the Magdalen walks, a ludicrous story comes to my memory. It was said that a member of the College more remarkable for his good breed- ing and general popularity than any intellectual power, having been somewhat seriously ill, was ordered by Mr. Symonds to take some walking exercise. He asked if he was to go round the walks, and his adviser having replied that he must not attempt more than half that distance, he dutifully went half way and then returned to the College. Dr. Thomson had just ceased to be Provost of Queen's when I came up to reside. There was a 168 OLD TIMES AND NEW Fellow then not long elected of whom the following amusing story was told. Somewhat over-excited by the appearance of his name in the first class, he climbed on to the roof of the College in the evening, and sat himself down on the great stone ornament that occupies a prominent position, as many of my readers will remember. It was really a most perilous proceeding, and many efforts were made to induce him to descend, but in vain. So at last the Provost was fetched, who attempted highly con- ciliatory measures. " Do pray come down, Mr. , we can all feel with you in your great success." " No you can't, old chap," was the unexpected rejoinder, " you only got a third" It was per- fectly true. The Provost in his day had only taken that position in the class list. It was another instance (but rarely indeed in so conspicuous a manner) of the fact that the schools do sometimes fail to indicate the real power of a man. An invitation on one occasion to dine at New College, and to pass the evening in the Junior Common room, brought under my notice a very curious custom. I set down exactly what happened, and I must leave it to members of the College to put right whatever I may state in unintentional error. It was summer term, and every one was out of doors, except my host and myself. Two places were laid at the table in the room, but my enter- tainer rang the bell and asked the attendant why OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES 169 " the stranger's place " was not provided. The man immediately set out glasses, d'oyley, and all the usual equipage of dessert. And then I was told this story. An American visiting Oxford had received very graceful hospitality from a New College man, and in recognition of it subsequently sent a handsome silver cup, only asking that on the anniversary of his visit a place might always be laid for him. It would be interesting to know if the custom is still continued, or whether it ceased with the life of the kindly stranger. During my undergraduate days there were one or two trials for murder at Oxford. There was a great demand for admission to the Assize Court, far in excess of the capacity of the building. By acting as my future father-in-law's clerk (for he went the Oxford circuit), and carrying his bag into Court, I was able to secure an excellent place for one of the very few serious cases I have ever heard. I may mention here that my cousin, Treasurer Hawker, of Exeter Cathedral (well known as the genial ex- positor of Devonshire folklore), obtained admission to the Tichborne trial in the same way, by favour of his old friend Sir J. D. Coleridge, afterwards Lord Chief Justice. My wife's father in his yeomanry days had gone through some rather startling experiences. He was "out" in the Luddite or machine-breaking riots, and when Her Majesty came through the county of Gloucester, as the 1 70 OLD TIMES AND NEW Princess Victoria, he rode in the escort by the side of the royal carriage. In the course of the machine-breaking disturb- ances, it became necessary to search certain suspected houses for persons implicated in the rising. He used to say that on one occasion he entered a cottage where there was reason to think a man might be secreted, but no trace of him could be found. In the garden there was a bundle of straw, such as might be commonly placed for thatching, or similar purposes. Into this he ran his sword, but with no result, and he quitted the premises. Long afterwards a man owned to having been concealed in the straw. The cold steel had passed close enough to him to b&felt without inflicting a wound, but he had made no sign. A remarkable instance this of unshaken nerves under exceptionally trying circumstances. Two of his bar stories are worth recording. One of them, I fancy, may be something of an old favourite; the other one, probably, will be new to many who may read my account. It was on the occasion of a difference of opinion between Judge and Counsel, that the latter, by an almost inconceivable lapsus lingua, replied irritably, " Very well, my lord, then I suppose we must enter a nolle prosequi" "As it is the last day of term," was the quiet reply, " I think we had better not make anything unnecessarily long." OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES 171 Albert Smith dined with the Bar once when on circuit. After dinner he amused his hosts by com- posing impromptu rhymes on each one in turn. Every one had cheerfully undergone the process, except a solitary individual, whom I will call Mr. Syllables. This gentleman was very well known for his partiality for dress, and also credited, rightly or wrongly, with paying court to certain great people. He could not decline the lot of his com- panions, and Smith immediately dashed off the following : "Take a cab-horse to Charing Cross, See Mr. Syllables get on his horse With rings on his fingers and studs in his shirt, If my lord does not bow, Mr. S. will be hurt." Amongst Torquay recollections, by the way, it was a wonderful treat when Albert Smith, in touring the provinces, brought his well-known Mont Blanc entertainment to the western town, and my sister and I went as delighted children to see and hear it in the Assembly Rooms of the old Royal Hotel, now possibly no longer in existence. Another man on the Oxford Circuit was Robert Sawyer, afterwards Recorder of Maidenhead, in- evitably known as " Bob." It was in his later life that I became somewhat closely associated with him on the Executive of the Church of England Temperance Society. I suppose a more inde- 172 OLD TIMES AND NEW fatigable worker never lived than he. No distance was too great, no trouble too much for him in the cause to which he gave up his life. His influence among railway men was of a wonderful character, and he laboured on till literally he could do no more. The last time I saw him was in the Board- room over the archway into Dean's yard. I was struck by the change which was only too evident, and I went home and told my wife how apprehen- sive I was of some approaching collapse. It came very soon indeed, but at that final interview (as it proved to be) he was earnestly planning more work to be undertaken. At this time, it must be remembered, he was rapidly approaching four score years. It was fifteen years after the sixties had ceased to be that a scene occurred in Oxford which I must take occasion to set down here while I am writing about the University. There was a very large meeting of Convocation, in which, to the great and lasting sorrow of many a graduate, the Vivi- section vote was carried. Two speeches made in opposition to such a use of University money will never be forgotten the sturdy protest by John Mackarness, Bishop of Oxford, and the exquisite pathos of Henry Parry Liddon. On the same side followed Freeman, the historian. He ought to have been a most effective helper, but nemo mortalium, not even the most learned, omnibus horis OXFORD IN THE SIXTIES 173 sapit. He adopted a line of argument which, if it does not instantly tell, should forthwith be re- linquished the red^tct^o ad absurdum. His line was that, if grants were made to one Professor for his supposed needs, they should be extended to other chairs, and he suggested that the means should be provided him for giving an illustrative show of gladiators. Unwarned by the failure of his audience to follow him, he went on to his peroration, and by a singularly infelicitous transfer of words, alluded, amidst shouts of irrepressible laughter, to " the taking of Titus by Jerusalem ! " Amongst the many friends of Oxford days, and as one who through my after life to the time of his death showed me unfailing kindness, I should be indeed ungrateful if I did not mention William Bright, Fellow of University, and widely known for many subsequent years as Canon Bright, the Regius Professor of Ecclesiastical History. He must have looked older than his years in the sixties, for he was then comparatively a young man, yet his appearance was that of maturer age. Perhaps like a certain character in fiction he looked " old when he was young, and so got over it at once." It is an oft- told tale how generous he was of time and trouble to all who sought his advice. Assuredly the present writer has reason to acknowledge a great debt indeed. His love of animals was one among many winning features in his character. The practice of 174 OLD TIMES AND NEW vivisection was to him peculiarly abhorrent. I shall never forget standing close by him in the Sheldonian on that memorable occasion when the Laboratory vote was submitted to Convocation. His feelings were intensely aroused, and all old friends who may chance to read this page will appreciate the strong emphasis with which he uttered as his comment on a speaker who had described some well-known experimentalist as shedding tears, the single word " Crocodile's." CHAPTER VI % LANHYDROCK ABOUT three miles from Bodmin, within a natural basin formed by timbered rising ground on three sides, stands what remains of the beautiful old Jacobean home of the Robartes family. The principal approach is on the fourth, or open, side, along an avenue which has its own history having been planted by order of the absent owner detained in durance in the Civil Wars and conducts the traveller to the fine old gate-house, which has escaped the fate of large portions of the original mansion. The monument of the founder of the family honours has been preserved in excellent condition within Truro Cathedral, and certainly affords a most interesting study in heredity. A somewhat similar instance was much appreciated by the late Mr. Gambier Parry on first seeing an eighteenth-century family picture belonging to myself, and describing it as being the portrait of 175 176 OLD TIMES AND NEW my own child. The advance of the Robartes family in the peerage placed a grandson of this ancestor in the position of Earl of Radnor and Viscount Bodmin. It is only a few years ago that a pedigree of great extent and considerable value was dis- covered in some out-buildings at Lanhydrock. Most happily it was not injured beyond repair, and in its restored condition is a treasure indeed for a genealogist or heraldic expert. Such "finds" are, of course, becoming exceedingly rare. The zeal of collectors has pretty fairly ransacked the various country-sides, but still every now and then some- thing of real value is discovered. A fine seven- teenth-century chest, with a puzzle lock, was lighted on only a few years ago by the Vicar of Dymock in Gloucestershire, who also found some ancient Church music employed as the binding of a parish book. These occur to me at the moment, and doubtless my readers can largely supplement them. But all ordinary cases are left far out of the reckoning by the good fortune of another friend many years since. He had bought in an old curiosity shop, I think at Florence, a panel on which there was evidence of work, but nothing decipherable. There was however quite enough about it to commend the purchase to such a highly- trained observer as he was. So he entrusted it to a friend, who occupied an eminent position in the artistic world, and under his directions it was care- LANHYDROCK 177 fully cleaned. The story is too long and far too interesting for introduction merely by the way. The upshot of it is that a very strong probability was established in favour of that panel containing an (unfinished) lost work of a very famous master. The Radnor peerage of the Robartes family came to an end in the early days of George III. by the death of the fourth earl without male issue. The estates ultimately devolved on Mary, the daughter of George Hunt, of Mollington Hall, in the county of Cheshire, who thus became an heiress of excep- tional importance. She married the Hon. Charles Bagenal Agar, and a son was born who, as repre- senting the Robartes family, in the female line, assumed their patronymic and armorial bearings. Mr. Agar died in 1811, and for very nearly half a century his widow survived him. She was a lady of remarkable strength of character, and set herself with unflinching resolution, at the cost of a secluded life, to the task of clearing the property from its heavy encumbrances. And her prolonged efforts were so entirely successful, that at her death the work had been brought to its conclusion. Her son in due time became member for East Cornwall, and on his retirement from the House of Commons after twenty-one years' service, Mr. Gladstone conveyed to him the royal offer of a peerage (a distinction wholly and always unsought by him) as a recognition of a singularly high-toned 13 1 78 OLD TIMES AND NEW and blameless life. The wording of the letter was noteworthy, and something much more than con- ventional. So once again, in 1869, there was a Lord Robartes of Lanhydrock, as there had been when James I. was king. The title now, however, is merged in the superior rank of Viscount Clifden, for it has so come about in the vicissitudes of family history that the line which began afresh from the heiress of the last Robartes has inherited the titles of her husband's race, and the peerages of both are united in one man. It is the larger part of a century and a half since the old earldom became extinct, but in places where change is held at bay by the force of old habit, there is a lingering of the past which for a while would seem almost to defy time. Some of us can cite such cases, likely enough, from our own knowledge. And so in those quiet Cornish pastures till quite lately, at any rate, the old mark for the sheep continued to be used, a last token of a style and title that had long ceased to be. When in my youth I first came to Lanhydrock, all this later history had not even begun. The house was very different indeed from that which it is to-day. It was the disastrous fire in 1881 that swept away the greater portion of the old building, leaving only (but happily) the very fine gallery on the northern side. All its contents were untouched, and thus a collection of seventeenth- LANHYDROCK 179 century books of considerable value survives. These volumes have, of late years, been carefully catalogued and restored. I shall always associate them with one to whom they were a source of great interest, the well-known churchman, scholar, and collector, Mr. F. H. Dickinson, of King Weston, father of the present Viscountess Clifden. There was all the lingering charm of an old- world tone over everything at Lanhydrock when I was first an inmate of the house. Something of an indescribable fascination hangs round that wonderful western-land, but with forty years of railways, modernisms of course have made their mark. How remote Cornwall was even in the very best coaching days may be gathered from a remark once made to me by the late Colonel Gilbert, of the Priory, Bodmin. When he was a cadet at Woolwich, his journey from home to the latter place occupied two nights and a portion of a second day. And this, it must be remembered, when the Devonport mail was at the zenith of its marvellous speed. He also added that the only breakfast pro- vided for a cadet in those days consisted of some bread (I think, not even butter) and milk. It would be a grateful task to reproduce in words some outlines of the tranquil and beautiful life that was lived by the late Lord and Lady Robartes, to trace them afresh in the memories of the many still 180 OLD TIMES AND NEW living who knew it as I did, to convey some little impression, if it might be, to an altogether later generation of what was once so familiar. Lord Robartes was of all men I have ever known eminent for a tender respect, a sensitive regard for God's creatures. In early life he had been a thorough sportsman, but he had laid aside these pursuits when I came to know him. Only in one way he maintained the habits of youth. He was a fearless and reliable whip. In his days you always found at Lanhydrock horses of the old coaching type well-knit, strong, and swift. He constantly drove a pair of these, and the pace at which he took his guests, in complete safety, many of us will never forget. Lady Robartes bore a name which just now is on all our lips. She was a Pole-Carew of Antony, and an aunt of the brilliant general who has passed through such stirring episodes in the South African campaign. I think if I desired to select an example of a true English gentlewoman it is to Lady Robartes I should go back for my subject. She possessed at once a dignity on which no one could venture to presume, and a genuine simplicity which was a constant contradiction to pretentiousness. She and her husband moved in a sphere of spiri- tuality their religion was their life, a religion unostentatious and consistent. It was a rare influence to come into the making LANHYDROCK 181 of young peoples' lives, with whose waywardness and tiresomeness they were singularly patient. There was all the knowledge of the world, all the grace of good breeding, and, along with this, the unseen verities were the greater facts of every- day life in that picturesque ancestral home. In the church of St. Endellion, in the Deanery of Bodmin, there survive three endowed Prebendal stalls, styled King's, Trehaverock, and Morneys. I do not know how it came to pass that these pre- ferments escaped the general transfer of funds that took place some sixty years since. l But so it is, and the Prebend of Morneys is in the gift of the owner of Lanhydrock. I have had occasion to remark on the accuracy shown by the late Mrs. Emma Marshall in her works of fiction. And here is a case very much in point. A story of hers the title has escaped my memory contained a state- ment to the effect that a clergyman, one of the characters, in virtue of a living to which he had been recently presented, had become the holder of titular rank in the Cathedral church. There is not, as far as I am aware, an exactly identical position to be found at present, but the Vicar of Lanhydrock for the time being has certainly during the last half-century and more held also the stall of Morneys. The prebend of Carswell, attached to 1 Because, I presume, they were in private patronage. 182 OLD TIMES AND NEW the Vicarage of Broad Clyst, is yet more clearly parallel. This is a dignity belonging to the old Castle Chapel of Exeter, and the holder is inducted within that venerable building. It was very pro- bably a knowledge of this latter usage that sug- gested the idea to the authoress. When I first in early life became acquainted with Lanhydrock, my older friend there was the then Vicar and Prebendary. He belonged to the well-known Cornish family of Grylls, and had married into one of the oldest and most interesting lines that, namely, of Borlase, descended from Taillefer of Borlase, who is said to have rent a horseshoe in twain before William of Normandy in the camp at Hastings. The arms of the family are ermine on a bend sable, two hands and arms issuing out of clouds at the elbows, rending a horseshoe or. One of this family was closely connected with the Jacobite Club at Oxford in the eighteenth century. Indeed, such was the position held by him that the president of the Society was termed the High Borlase. This fact came to my knowledge under very singular circumstances. A long while ago, a brother-in-law of my own was going to a fancy ball as Sir Walter Raleigh. His dress came from London, and was pronounced to be admirable, with, however, a single exception. It was pointed out to him that he had no order fastened round his neck. So he sallied out to a jeweller's shop in the LANHYDROCK 183 town where he was staying, and asked if he had anything that would serve the purpose. Strange to say, the tradesman produced this Jacobite token. On it was inscribed " High Borlase, Arbiter bibendi." My brother-in-law brought it with the rest of his equipment to my house. I immediately recognised the family name, but the rest of the inscription completely baffled me. Some years afterwards, however, meeting one of the name, I told him of my strange discovery. He replied that for a long time he had been endeavouring to recover the missing jewel, and had offered a considerable sum for it. He then gave me the explanation which I have here recorded. Prebendary Grylls, it ought to be said, was a man of gifts that were adequate to a far more extended sphere than that which he actually occupied. The church at Lanhydrock, now admirably restored, in which his ministry was exercised, was in the interior arrangements an instance of what country churches had come very frequently to be. There was no vestry, and as an academical gown was worn by the preacher, the officiant had no alternative but to remove the surplice at the close of the Prayers, and invest himself with the other apparel, in the reading-pew. Would that some of our impatient spirits would bestow but a little thought on the almost incredible improvements 1 84 OLD TIMES AND NEW that a single generation has brought in its course ! Cricket was a game late to take root in Devon and Cornwall, although the Teignbridge Club can show a very respectable antiquity. In Cornwall the lovers of this grandest of all English games owe a large debt of recognition to Lanhydrock. In days when really good wickets were rareties in the West, there was always a first-rate pitch available on the private ground of Mr. Agar-Robartes, as he then was. A match day is one of the bright spots in the memory of many. The good wicket, the fine situation, the friendly feeling, the ample hospitality on the field, all together made up a thorough and a wholesome holiday. Then, again, the regular em- ployment of a professional gave an unusual chance to a promising " colt," who could not otherwise have possibly enjoyed such an advantage. Many good stories were told of cricket as it was played in the West when the writer was a boy. Thus once, near Torquay, the umpire, being sud- denly inquired of, made the following perfectly honest but probably unique reply : " What do you ask me for ? A gentleman like you ought to know a lot more about it than what I do ! " And I can recall later on a certain match, a good deal further down, where the number of persons adjudged to be out l.b.w. was simply phenomenal. Towards the end of the fifties the All England eleven played a LANHYDROCK r8$ match with a Cornish twenty-two, in which they encountered a curious reverse in their first innings. A well-known cricketing cleric, Hon. J. T. Boscawen, disposed of the whole team of visitors for an extra- ordinarily small number of runs. His style of bowling was peculiar. It was underhand, and its varieties of pitch and pace were very many. On an indifferent ground, and with batsmen to whom it was a novelty, it was apt to prove very fatal indeed. On the formation of a village club in East Devon, an old woman, when asked where her son was, replied that he had gone to play at weasel 7 Her interlocutor, somewhat astonished at the answer, suggested that perhaps it was cricket. " Well, perhaps it was ; she know'd anyway 'twas some animal." When Mr. Gladstone made his famous tour in the West in 1889, he was a guest at Lanhydrock. It was my privilege to be one of the house party, which comprised, besides our host and hostess, Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone, Mr. Henry Gladstone, Sir William and Lady Trelawny, the Right Hon. Arnold Morley, Mr. Cyril Flower (now Lord Battersea), and Mr. and Mrs. Luttrell, of Dunster Castle. It was most wonderful how, in the very heat and rush of a campaign, from the moment he set foot on the threshold of the house, the great statesman never alluded to matters political. His 1 86 OLD TIMES AND NEW stay was on personal, and not public grounds. It was an incident not to be forgotten, when Punch arrived with its cartoon, " His Little Holiday," representing the ex-Prime Minister, travelling due West, with a cloud of papers and boxes, to see the amusement with which it was brought by Mrs. Gladstone to the man himself, and his appreciation of the humour of the picture. After dinner, the conversation turning on tenure, he told us the following anecdote : " A Scotch pro- prietor determined to allow no more feus on his estate, and instructed his agent accordingly. So when a Highland farmer arrived one day and asked for this particular manner of holding, he was cour- teously refused. The agent, however, tried to ease the applicant's disappointment by adding that the laird would give him instead a lease of 999 years. The shrewd old man pondered a while, but presently, shaking his head in dissent, made his reply, ' Time soon runs awa.' " And so it does, as those who happen to be living at some particular turning- point can see. For I happened to tell this story to the President of Magdalen soon after, and he mentioned the very interesting fact that a lease granted four centuries ago by one of the Colleges in Oxford had recently fallen in. Time had run awa'. There was a great eagerness to catch a glimpse of the famous statesman. He was, however, not to LANHYDROCK 187 be seen during the afternoon of his arrival. He had spoken no less than three times at Truro, St. Austell, and Bodmin. At the first-named place he so timed his address as to reserve some few minutes for a hasty glance at the Cathedral. I remember a stranger coming up to me in the grounds at Lanhydrock and asking anxiously as to a possible sight of Mr. Gladstone, mentioning the consider- able distance that had been travelled in order to obtain it. It was very soon after this party that circum- stances brought me, for the first time, into relation with the late Earl of Carnarvon. That high- minded, refined, scholarly statesman had long been a hero with me, and a visit to Highclere under his auspices was an episode memorable in life. My room was in the older part of the Castle, and a tablet on the door stated it to have been assigned to Caroline of Anspach, the Queen of George II. I had the pleasure of sending Lord Carnarvon an account of the sharp encounter at Barber's Bridge, in Gloucestershire, during the Civil Wars, at the time when Lord Herbert's Welshmen bore them- selves well. It is said that the name is a corruption of Barbarous, on account of the terrible slaughter. It was but a little over a year later that I re-visited the beautiful Berkshire seat for his funeral. There was something very wonderful in the sight of the special train arriving at the country 188 OLD TIMES AND NEW station, and the distinguished occupants who thronged the little quiet platform. On that day I had my last sight of one from whom I had received much kindness in life, Canon Liddon. We left Highclere by the same train, and walked for some time together at Didcot. He was then extremely ill. I expressed my solicitude as to his suffering, and received the reply, so characteristic in its exactness of language, even at a time of such distress, " Thank you, the pain is very severe, almost acute" This was in June, and he died at Weston- super-Mare in September. My first recollection of Canon Liddon is in 1861, when he was Vice- Principal of St. Edmund's Hall. It was in his rooms there that the Sunday evening gatherings began which afterwards assumed such large proportions, and became so notable a feature in the religious life of the University. He was during part of that year a Pro-proctor, and stories were current as to the great reluctance he displayed in fining undergraduates for being without cap and gown. One was to the effect that he crossed the street rather than be compelled to take action ; another, that he made a quasi-apology to a delin- quent for mulcting him in five shillings. There was just this element of truth in them, that his gentle spirit displayed a great measure of forbearance. No one, however, who really knew Dr. Liddon could ever imagine that he had a trace of weakness LANHYDROCK 189 of character. His own illuminative sermon on John Keble shows clearly his mind as to the true relations of gentleness and strength. I remember in later days being told by one of the family group at Salisbury how, in his sojourns at the Palace, he would become so absorbed in the construction of his sermons that, forgetful of all save the serious matter in hand, he would recite whole passages as they shaped themselves in his brain before committing them to writing. There was a charming reminiscence given me by a friend of his earlier ministry as chaplain, that by his winning words and ways he so influenced a young footman in the Bishop's household as to induce him to give up a racing newspaper in favour of a very different class of periodical. Not long before the close of his life he made an expedition to a village church in the Diocese of Oxford, where he had learned there were archi- tectural features of very considerable interest. He and his friends had alighted from their carriage, and were about to enter the church, when they were seen, but not recognised, by the Vicar, who imme- diately placed his services at their disposal. He was a man to thoroughly appreciate the building entrusted to his care, and soon found that he was explaining various points of interest to no ordinary visitors. And when all was over, and the travellers were about to return, he expressed the great and 190 OLD TIMES AND NEW rare pleasure he had experienced, and asked if he might know the names of his listeners. Dr. Liddon silently gave him his card. The Vicar involuntarily exclaimed, " What, Canon Liddon, the great preacher ? " And the answer was so exactly what hundreds of old Oxford men would identify as one of his characteristic speeches, " Well, I do preach sometimes." I remember seeing a poor fellow who used to pick up odd jobs as a messenger stand in the aisle of St. Mary's throughout Dr. Liddon's great sermon on " Humility and Action," published in the first volume of University Sermons. The man was then recovering from a broken leg. It was a notable testimony to the spell of the preacher's voice and message. In 1870 I met Pere Hyacinthe with Liddon at St. Barnabas Parsonage. He looked with admiration at one of the sacred vessels, saying softly, " Un beau calice." This was in the first days after the Vatican Council. In the autumn of the year 1889 a heavy loss befell me and mine in the death of Lord Torrington. Although I had personally been brought but very little into contact with him, his kindness to me was of the greatest. He died from typhoid fever, during a visit in Brittany, while actively occupied with many schemes. He was a man of high ideal, and bore himself with a self-command and dignity, of which the following anecdote is an illustration : LANHYDROCK \g\ One Sunday, during. his period of service in the Army, there was no Chaplain to officiate. It fell to the lot of Captain Byng to read prayers. As he was about to do so he noticed some merriment on the part of his brother officers, and overheard a remark as to " Parson Byng." He stopped, and saying very quietly, " Gentlemen, when you have recovered yourselves, I will go on with the Service," continued without any further inter- ruption. Here is a very odd incident (for which I am indebted to my wife's cousin, whom I have before mentioned), in which the seventh Viscount Tor- rington was concerned. Some foreign royalties were visiting this country, and under his courteous and accomplished guidance were conducted to the House of Lords to hear a debate. Their host having noticed that Lord Brougham was in his place, went to him, and telling him who composed the party which he had brought down, asked him if he would take an opportunity of speaking that evening, in order that the distinguished visitors might hear so eminent a master of English oratory. In reply to his request, Lord Torrington, I was told, " caught it " from his noble friend, who absolutely declined, and with considerable emphasis, to do anything of the sort. There was nothing more to be done, and the illustrious guests must resign themselves to a disappointment. But, strange to 192 OLD TIMES AND NEW say, after a while the great ex-Chancellor rose, and spoke in his most brilliant style. The subject of remarkable likenesses has already found a place in these recollections. But certainly the most astonishing instance is one which was given me by an old and valued friend, the late Judge Sumner. During his Balliol days he pos- sessed a "double" in an undergraduate of the same College, a constant companion of his own. Their similarity was so marked that, as the Judge used to say, his friend once mistook himself for his friend ! This sounds, I am aware, preposterous. But it was the literal fact, and happened in this way. There used to be in our young days a most delightful holiday resort in Regent's Park, the Coliseum. In front of the great staircase there was a large sheet of mirror glass, so placed that as one went up the stairs it appeared as though another person were walking towards you. Mr. Sumner's friend, quite unaware of this, was wending his way up to the Panorama, when he caught sight of the figure seemingly walking towards him. He turned to the man who was with him, and exclaimed, " Look ! there's old Sumner." CHAPTER VII CHARDSTOCK AND ELSEWHERE AN early pioneer alas ! heavily at his own cost I fear in the matter of middle-class education, was Charles Woodcock, Prebendary of Salisbury, and Vicar of Chardstock, close on the borders of Dorset and Devon. A right vigorous man, of noble im- pulses, and a genial heart, he was seconded in all his enterprises by his wife, a daughter of the well- known Dr. Sutherland, a lady of much strength and sweetness of character. St. Andrew's College is now, sad to say, a thing of the past. But the memory of those who toiled and suffered has some- thing more than the average claim on those who come after. And now that the principle involved begins to be more adequately acknowledged, and Churchmen all over England owe a heavy debt to the untiring energy of distinguished workers in this direction, it is well to recall the labours of years gone by, lest in a ruin of to-day the promise of 14 ' 194 OLD TIMES AND NEW yesterday be ungratefully forgotten. Chardstock afforded me a place for reading, and also for some other work between Oxford and ordination. Cer- tainly those who took part in the manifold activities of that parish and its various institutions will never probably see the like again. All was stir and life in what before Canon Woodcock began his work had been only a small village in the hills. Clergy from the surrounding district came to share in the services of the re-builded church services made glorious by the notable ability of Precentor and Organist, two Oxford men, of whom one now occupies a distinguished place among Church musicians, and the other, whose compositions claim more than a passing notice (he was the first to set the " Golden Legend ") after a life of very varied work carried on under a disadvantage of weak health, is now passing through a period of well- occupied repose. Visitors from various quarters, parents of boys, one and another, were continually coming and going. There was not much room for dilatoriness amidst it all. The Vicar and Warden was often thoroughly unconventional, and was wont to speak his mind in church and out of it with entire candour. In fact, he once said to me, reflectively, that he wondered he had not had his head broken many a time. But then I am bound to say there are very few people who would have cared to try, for our friend was of CHARDSTOCK AND ELSEWHERE 195 a remarkably fine physique, and absolutely fearless into the bargain. He had the very strongest objec- tion to anything like irreverence in church, or to an ill-timed somnolence. And on one occasion he was met by an unexpected rejoinder. For having ad- dressed a rustic in the gallery, to the effect that he was asleep, the person in question replied, it is said, in all good faith, " No, I bean't sur, but I be bad." On another occasion, finding himself surrounded by a drowsy and inattentive congregation, he produced his Greek Testament from his pocket, and com- menced reading it aloud. This gallant veteran continued working at the rate of four services a Sunday till he had come to fourscore years. And when, but a short while since, he passed away, the Diocese and a wide circle of friends were the poorer for his loss. I only mention the fact of my having been ordained at Llandaff in order that I may place on record something as to those with whom my first curacy brought me into contact. My first Vicar, my cousin Turberville Williams, has recently passed to the unseen world. The time of my ordi- nation was marked by one of the most prodigious snowfalls of my life's experience, and when I left Llandaff for Caldicot in Monmouthshire, I could only do so by a somewhat singular equipage, namely, a four-wheeler drawn by two horses tandem, and with an assistant on the box. I remember it thu 196 OLD TIMES AND NEW cost me half a sovereign to get to the station at Cardiff. It was in the days, of course, of Ollivant as Bishop. A rugged, honest, strong man, and one of the most conscientious persons it has ever be- fallen me to know well. He was consecrated in 1849, and was, I think, the first Bishop to reside at Llandaff, at any rate, after a very long period. Copleston, his predecessor, one of the famous group associated with the Oriel Common Room, lived at the very edge of his diocese, and a pew in Chep- stow Church, since then effectively restored, bore a mitre on the door. He was also Dean of St. Paul's. But with my kind old friend the newer methods began. It would be gratuitous here to repeat the well-worn story of his first tentative essays in Welsh. The point is that he did acquire the language, and laboured indefatigably amidst what, half a century ago, must still have been, allowing for what had been begun, the most unpromising circumstances. The Dean (Williams) was well known to my father, and all was most pleasantly arranged for me on my coming to the old Cathedral village. At his house there was always a welcome. And indeed he was a man to know. For the making of Llandaff Cathedral as we are familiar with it to-day, was in the completion of it eminently his work. As Arch- deacon he had wrought strenuously with the two CHARDSTOCK AND ELSEWHERE 197 previous Deans, his personal friends, for the raising again from its ruin, and worse than ruin, the ancient House of God, and it was given to him to see the work completed. Dean Williams was, like Bishop Copleston, an Oriel man. He was in the First Class, and nar- rowly missed being a member of the historic Common Room. But to have been proxime to John Henry Newman was assuredly a greater triumph in defeat than the majority of victories. He had been a pupil of the great Dr. Butler at Shrewsbury School, and that early training laid the foundation of a life's work, able, vigorous, and un- broken. It is not too much to say that the early stages in the wonderful revival of Church work in the Diocese of Llandaff, which has won so large a measure of respect and admiration, owed their suc- cess in a very large degree to his wisdom and energy. Like other really strong men, he had a special love for children, and the love which children bore to him is a characteristic which those who knew him best delight in recollecting. The history of Llandaff up till about 1840 had been for generations one of "sad decay." The "Quire Music" had ceased at the end of the seventeenth century the Canons' houses had become pigstyes. An effort was made to arrest the ruin of the Cathedral about the middle of the 198 OLD TIMES AND NEW eighteenth century, but the several thousand pounds raised for the purpose were wasted in setting up an Italian temple within the walls. It deserves to be always remembered that the first step in the direc- tion of any real restoration was taken by the Pre- centor, just as the earliest effort at the famous Church of St. John, Frome Selwood, was made by a curate. Then Knight Bruce, in the revived office of Dean, took the matter vigorously in hand. Conybeare, who succeeded him, carried the work so far forward that a service of re-opening was held in the Eastern part of the rebuilded Cathedral in 1857, when the Choir of Gloucester, after the dreary interval of a century and a half, made " one sound to be heard, in praising and thanking the Lord." Then, lastly, Dean Williams set his strong hand, as I have said, to the sacred enterprise, and in the closing days of the sixties all was brought to a successful issue. A Welsh Festival at Llandaff is a glorious func- tion. The effect of the ancient melodies wedded to the ancient tongue as the long procession wends its way from the Western doors is a thing on which, long after, memory may love to dwell. The late Canon Bruce was another of the Llandaff Chapter to whom I bore an introduction, and I may say as I look back to those my first days as a young cleric, that I have nothing but kindness and friendly care to recall CHARDSTOCK AND ELSEWHERE 199 Canon Bruce lived so quietly among his "own people," that those outside his family circle and more immediate friends might easily be unaware how largely he was the possessor of gifts that in a more public life could not have failed to enlist attention. He was by nature a strong man, and by reading a cultivated one. There did come an occasion in his life the offer of a Deanerv when 4 he might have exchanged the quiet of a country place for more stirring scenes. But it was declined, and it remains only to note in him one of those instances of chosen retirement that are rare enough in any age. At my curacy I made friends with a delightful Irishman who rented my cousin's house, Mount Balan. Never was there a more genial man, never a more amusing companion, never a more loyal friend, than John Franks. He was a graduate of Trinity, Dublin, had lived for a time at Rome, where he studied Art, and had settled in Mon- mouthshire through his marriage. Always ready in wit, he never knew what it was to be ill-natured. Those who had the advantage of his acquaintance, and may chance to read these pages, will feel that I have but done him simple justice. One of his Irish stories occurs to me. It is, I think, a fair proof of the indescribable, and (to my thinking) quite inimi- table humour of the people to whom he belonged. The incident happened in the course of a Militia 200 OLD TIMES AND NEW training. Good food in the shape of a pint of cocoa and a pound of excellent bread was provided for each of the men. Complaints were naturally almost unheard of, for the poor fellows had come from far worse fare than this in their scantily furnished homes. But one day the officer on duty, putting what had come to be a mere formal inquiry, was surprised by a man standing up at the salute. "Why, Tim, have you a complaint to make?" " No, your honour, but I'd like to make an obsar- vation." " Well, then, what is it ? " " Well, your honour," replied the aforesaid Tim, holding out his ration, " I was just going to obsarve that this bread would be none the worse for a thrifle of butter ! " It was about this time that I made my first acquaintance with the Festivals of the three Choirs. Afterwards the " Gloucester Music " became a great feature in our lives. I suppose that there is nothing in which the influence of the great Church revival is more evident than in these gatherings. I never knew them at their lowest ebb, but I can certainly recollect when the question of holding a ball at the end hung in the balance. It used to be said that at one time a race meeting came into the consideration. If so, it was long before I had any knowledge of the neighbourhood. But certainly newspapers were read and luncheons taken in the interval between the renderings of the oratorios. As regards the former, some one once suggested that if the Dean CHARDSTOCK AND ELSEWHERE 201 (Butler) chanced to see it, he might, from the force of old habit, set the offender to write it out three times ! Now, everything is changed. The Cathe- dral Clergy are duly vested, and prayer precedes each performance, which again is concluded with the Benediction. And the fine orchestral Service which is included in the arrangements puts a very different face on the meeting from what it was a generation ago. There used to be an organ-blower at the Cathe- dral who was a bit of a character. One day, the organist returning from his own holiday met his humble but indispensable assistant, and inquired kindly of him whether he too had enjoyed a change. The answer was in the affirmative, and the locality duly specified, with this additional item of informa- tion : " I knew the blower there, sir, and he let me try his organ ! " It was at a Gloucester Festival that Sir Hubert Parry's "Job " was first heard in a Cathedral. There was something especially noteworthy in the per- formance of that fine work within the walls that contain such tokens of his gifted father's brush. Birmingham, a few years before, was the scene of the production of "Judith." There was a great crowd to hear it, and amongst the audience was Mr. Gambier Parry. It was but a few weeks afterwards that he swiftly passed away. The work entailed by one of these Festivals is immense. Probably the 202 OLD TIMES AND NEW average person who comes for a day of delight, privileged to listen to the magnificent rendering of the great composers, amid such surroundings, has no sort of idea as to the long and severe labour it has entailed in order that so great a result should be obtained. Of course, a real difficulty lies in this, that the expenses of the Festivals have already so trenched on the resources of the neighbourhood and the visitors as to leave only a moderate margin for the collections, and it is by no means easy to see how this can be remedied. There are, however, excellent exceptions. I shall long remember a ludicrous mistake that occurred on the day when "Judith" was brought out at Birmingham. Some of my party had started with me at an early hour, and no opportunity had offered for obtaining the score. As the express ran into Worcester Station, I called to the boy at W. H. Smith's bookstall for what we required. "Have you got 'Judith'?" "Yes, sir, here you are one penny," and he produced Judy! Ex- planations followed, the penny grew, I suppose, to some four shillings, and we reached our destination at the Town Hall, duly equipped for our day's music. There could be no more pleasant hours in that portion of our life on which God's sunshine rests than those of the well-remembered gatherings in the old Cathedral city. Friends from near, and friends CHARDSTOCK AND ELSEWHERE 203 from far, those whom one had not seen for many a year, in which for both alike life's story had been made, the leaders of English music, and the kindly hosts around the College Green, whose welcome in- cluded a constant stream of guests. And there, in the centre, the glorious church which tells its own tale of the past and the present, blending memory and melody beneath its vaulted roof, a witness to that spell of consecration, whereby the Divine Gift to man is raised to its highest power, and the successive phases of human history are met from the unexhausted store of changeless Truth. CHAPTER VIII BADMINTON " DID you know Lord William, sir?" was one of the early questions addressed to me on becoming Curate of Badminton. I could not lay claim to that honour; indeed, his Lordship died in my early child- hood. So I was obliged to answer in the negative. " Ah, he were something like a parson, sir, he were. He did keep a pack of beagles," was the rejoinder. Lord William, besides holding other preferments, was a Canon of Bristol. And an incident of one of his terms of residence is well remembered by some who witnessed the same. He was driving four horses up a hill in Clifton, when one of the team jibbed so obstinately that there was no getting on. Lord William took it with admirable coolness. Instead of employing any of the cruel measures that, it is to be feared, are too often resorted to, he remained where he was, sent for some luncheon which he ate on the box, after which he read his Times with 20-1 BADMINTON 205 complete unconcern, until the recreant, weary of his long waiting, was glad to go on, and, we will hope, never repeated his silly behaviour. Those were strange old days. A hard-working curate took charge of one of the many parishes which his Lordship had held, and introduced some vigorous modern methods. We should not think very much as to the innovations nowadays, seeing that one of them was the provision for two services by a competent substitute when on rare occasions the clergyman was away for a Sunday. But this conduct drew forth a compliment from a parishioner, sincerely meant, but sufficiently ambiguous in its expression : " Well, I will say this for you, when- ever you do go out, you never sends us a worse one than yourself " In a church not many miles from Badminton, there was a pew of the approved style with a fire- place in it for the Squire's family. The good and much respected landlord was wont to say to his nephew, who, as a boy, was a good deal with him, " Harry, poke the fire." This order was given at the announcing of the metrical Psalm, and the conse- quent musical preliminaries. Then quiet reigned the preacher was an admirable man, and the Squire an attentive hearer. But when twenty minutes had expired an order was duly whispered, " Harry, poke the fire." Then the discourse came without needless delay to its close. 206 OLD TIMES AND NEW The Vicar of Badminton, on whose nomination I came there, was of a different bent of mind. Joseph Buckley was the affectionate and trusted friend of a wonderfully wide circle, and a man of decided beliefs and tastes. I remember his telling me how he travelled third class in 1845 over the newly-opened Midland Railway to be present at the memorable consecration of St. Saviour's, Leeds. He came to Badminton, as we used to say, " With penny postage," i.e., in 1840. Previously to that he was curate of Stroud in company with Matthew Hale, afterwards Bishop of Brisbane. In his time there was daily prayer in Stroud Church at either 7 or 7.30 a.m. A wealthy mill owner bore the cost of lighting the church during the winter months, and Buckley never forgot that this good man and all his family appeared the morning after a disastrous fire in his works to render thanks to Almighty God, for their own preservation from danger. One saying of our dear old Rector deserves to be written in letters of gold, " I am sure that the words ' not worth while ' are responsible for nearly all the gaps that have been allowed to come into our Church worship and order." The late Duke of Beaufort was a man of extended and extraordinary popularity. I do not think there is any exaggeration in saying that he was a born leader of men. There was a readiness of apprehension, a thoroughness in acquirement, BADMINTON 207 and a literal instinct of tact that marked him out for distinction, and had he chosen to follow politics as the main business of life, must beyond doubt have placed him in the front rank. Perhaps, above all, the grace and charm of his courtly manners, and the individualising (every one who knew him will follow my meaning) of a generous nature, will remain as the more prominent recollections of a host of friends, of all classes and situations. There was never a more considerate landowner, nor a more kind-hearted employer. It is only within the last few days that I chanced to hear of a letter he wrote to an old retainer, a fisher- man on the Wye, as the shadows were creeping quickly over his failing life. I shall never forget one evening, many years ago, when he related an interview with Napoleon III., which took place at Richmond in the forties. Louis Napoleon, as he then was, had just made good his escape from the fortress of Ham. It was indeed something to hear the story direct from the very man to whom it was told. I have already alluded to the hardships of school life in the earlier part of the century. I do not know what special discomfort it was that the Duke had to encounter at a school where he was sent in company with others of his own age and position, but certainly, like many another child at that time, he tried in his unhappiness to run away. The 208 OLD TIMES AJVD NEW late Earl Manvers was a fellow pupil of the Duke's, and told me the details of the attempted escape. Lord Glamorgan managed to reach the coach undiscovered, and get a certain distance on his journey to London. But his flight was of necessity soon found out, and an emissary from the school started in pursuit. Alas ! there was a short cut open to a horseman, which enabled him to over- take the vehicle that proceeded by a more circuitous route, and at the end of the stage the coach was searched, the fugitive discovered in his concealment, and sadly reconducted to his unwelcome starting- point. One cannot but be sorry for the lot of children then, if only the world had not run into a silly extreme in the opposite direction now, and too often done away with all wholesome discipline whatever ! The harshness, and the blows of those days were terribly sad, and one may feel thankful for a change that has meant so much for tender lives. " The platforms," remarked an old friend to me one day, when our two boys were returning to school, " are filled with rejoicing sons and lamenting fathers." Not long before he died the Duke described in a most graphic narrative, which I hope is embodied in some more permanent form than the columns of a newspaper, the circumstances of his first election to the House of Commons in 1846. From the entrance of the deputation, consisting of some BADMINTON 209 three farmers with large holdings in "the Cotswolds, encountering the Marquis of Worcester (as he then was) with his father, in the great yard on the west side of the house, up to the climax, when after the extremely doubtful pleasure of being "chaired "in Gloucester, the new member set off in a special train, reaching London in time to record his vote against the repeal of the Corn Laws, the story is full of interest, not only, either, for those who, like the present writer, are familiar with the localities concerned, but as a chapter of national methods which have now passed entirely away. The funeral at Badminton, when at an age beyond that of his predecessors he was taken from our midst, was indeed a memorable scene. It was a cloudless day, in early May ; and as the body was borne out of the church, the silence was broken only by the multitudinous singing of the birds, for though some three thousand people stood closely crowded together, there was as it were a solitude in the absence of movement or sound. The death of his only daughter, the Marchioness of Waterford, in the early part of 1897, was a blow from which the Duke never wholly recovered. Nor could any, who knew her even but slightly, wonder that it should be so. Lady Blanche Somerset was one of the noblest of women. From a child she had lofty ideals, and in the deeply- marked contrasts of brilliance and sorrow that 15 210 OLD TIMES AND NEW belonged to her later life, she did not part from them. Once in childhood, her birthday falling on Good Friday, she of her own accord stopped the church bells from being rung, as the custom was, from a sense of incongruity on the Day of Death. Sympathy with suffering that involved action at the cost of personal effort, might not unfitly sum up the main staple of her career. Some of my readers may recall a case of cruelty that met with its appropriate retribution in a London Police Court, only because Lady Waterford had intervened. A human brute was savagely beating the horse attached to his cab late one night. It was over- heard in the house in Charles Street, and the lady of the house let herself out and followed the matter up. It was so like her, a loving, fearless, faithful woman, because the fear and the love of God were the master motives of her unsullied soul. And when the path which she must needs tread was disclosed before her, then her courage was seen in all its tenderness and strength. Calm and un- flurried, her single care was that no one person and no one thing should be forgotten. She sent for my wife, whom she had regarded with affection from her child days, and in arranging the day with me, she deprecated any misplaced shyness in speaking of what was in the near foreground. " It is a pity," she said with a quiet touch of her old simple humour, " that avoids the subject. People BADMINTON 211 seem to shun speaking of death, as though somehow it was ungentlemanly to do so." l Great state was wont to be kept up at Badminton in former times. There is a monumental tablet to a certain Saggiani, a quondam steward, near the southern entrance to the church. This man, an Italian, introduced into the household by, I think, the fifth Duke, had very magnificent notions indeed. The old clerk told me something of this " Mr. Sadge-any," as the villagers appear to have called him. It was a saying that if his Grace had employed two men, one to dig guineas in the park, and another to move them in a wheelbarrow down to the house, they could not have brought enough to pay the bills ! There was a story of later date than this, which shows how difficult it must have been to uproot the ideas of lavish expenditure. Her Majesty was to be entertained at luncheon by the preceding Duke and Duchess at their house in London, very shortly after the Accession. It appears that there was a golden drinking-cup which was by his Grace's orders especially to be set apart for the royal use. So far all was clear, but a difficulty arose at this point. It was quite uncertain whether the Queen would select claret or madeira, and whichever way her choice inclined it was needful that the wine 1 An ex-soldier writing to me within a day or two of her death, used this striking expression, " She was one of God's own." 212 OLD TIMES AND NEW should be served without any delay. The chief in command was equal to the occasion. He assured the Duke that there should be no hitch whatever, nor indeed was there, for the moment her Majesty expressed her preference, the wine was brought on the instant, and in the appropriate goblet. When all was concluded the Duke sent for his subordinate, and bestowing praise for the excellent expedition shown, asked him how he had managed to arrange it so well. The reply was probably as unexpected as it was costly, " Well, your Grace, as I could not be certain which wine her Majesty would choose, I sent to Hunt and Roskell's and had a second goblet made exactly like the old one ! " In one of the first attempts at reform, the kitchen and the pantry were closed to his Grace's numerous uninvited guests. And the result was a lamentation that Badminton had all come to an end now ; there was nothing to eat or to drink ! A kindly friend of ours during the years we lived at Badminton was the late Mr. Granville Somerset. He was a constant and much-loved visitor at the house, and as he had known my father-in-law at the Bar, he always had a pleasant thought for us. But we were very near indeed at the outset of our time there to ending life altogether. The Duchess took my wife and myself over to Berkeley for one of the earlier Choral Festivals held in the Diocese. All went well until we were well on our BADMINTON 213 way homewards. The irregular motion of the carriage suddenly became alarming, and our un- easiness was not decreased by the coachman putting on his brake going uphill instead of down ! And then, just at a moment when we fancied things were better, and that the driver's muddled brain was re- covering itself, there was a sudden horrible lurch, a crash, and we were overturned. Happily it was in the village of Hillesley, and, though the inhabitants who ran out did not at first do more than bring a lantern to the closed window of our prison, presently we were afforded an exit, and, in God's wonderful mercy, escaped without broken bones. It was in- deed a marvellous deliverance, for had the horses dashed forward the result must have been a fearful disaster. A messenger ran on to the late Mr. Hale's seat at Alderley, and his carriage was quickly despatched to the scene of the accident, and shaken, belated, but thankful, we at last reached home. I daresay we have all of us at some time or another, when reading the schedule of fields in an estate or on an auctioneer's notice, wondered how the various pieces of land came by their names. It fell to my lot when Curate of Badminton to watch the process from its origin in the case of a road. And this is how it came to pass. The " Portcullis " in those days was kept by one John Dauris, who was a Roman Catholic. His 214 OLD TIMES AND NEW soubriquet among the villagers was naturally " the Pope. " The Duke was constructing a new thorough- fare in the village near the hostelry, and when the men employed on it meditated a drink they used to pass the word, so as to evade the ganger, "let us go and see the Pope." And from this becoming known, the road gradually took the style of " Pope's Lane." A puzzle, perhaps, for some future inquirer, as was " Bill Stumps, his mark," to a certain distinguished group of antiquarians. Of all people that I have ever known there are scarcely any so loyal in their affection for old friends as the Badminton folk. The lapse of years and long absence in no way impair their attachment. And there is no thought whatever of fee or reward. Opposite our house there lived an old soldier of Wellington days and memories. To the last, as long as he could accomplish the walk, he would never miss attendance at Church and at Holy Communion. It was a delight to hear the old man speak of sacred things, and to watch his consistent practice of what he had learned. From him I heard something of the rough old times. Nothing was more perilous than the division of prize-money among the survivors of a campaign. In a few hours what might have been the provision for a lifetime was dissipated in senseless waste. This veteran described to me a scene of drunken im- becility, when he saw a man engaged in placing a BADMINTON 215 frying-pan on the fire filled with gold watches ! Less ghastly by far, yet piteous in its ruinous folly, was the action of another a sailor newly landed. He engaged the whole stage coach for himself, and when the driver asked what was to be done with the other intending passengers, he replied from the outside where he had ensconced himself, " Put the lubbers into the hold, but I won't have them on the deck with me ! " Certainly it would seem that, despite whatever an adverse criticism may still rightly impugn, some of our modern methods can claim a not unsubstantial advance. This veteran's case was representative. There was a great deal of religious feeling among the old Badminton people. It was to some extent due to the early Evangelical movement, and, it was said, to the strong influence of a former Duchess. I could add much as to the effect of a noble life and example in one later too, did not my needful rule exercise its limitation. Lent services were often remarkably well attended, and a Good Friday in the two churches was a day to live in one's memory. The suspension of all except necessary work in every department of the estate brought together a great number of men, whose singing of the Passion Hymns produced a most solemn effect. Some very good cricket was played at Badminton once upon a time. And a match with "I. Zingari " ("they Zingarians," as I once heard an old fellow 216 OLD TIMES AND NEW call them) was a brilliant sight on the ground in front of the great entrance. In 1870 a contest had been arranged between Lansdown and a home team. The death of Earl Howe made it impossible to use the usual spot close in sight of the house. So an attempt was made, quocunque modo, to get ready a temporary pitch near Worcester Lodge. The sides were particularly strong. The Grace family were in full force, and were divided between Badminton and the visitors. Just before the game began Dr. W. G. Grace went over the ground with me, and said, " My young brother will get us all out directly on a wicket like this." And so he did, and his own side in their turn fared no better, so that the whole game was very easily got over in a single day. Nor was this all ; the extraordinarily lumpy state of the pitch made the bowling so fatal that, with one single exception, no one among all those accomplished players made double figures! The exception was this. An old Oxford friend was staying with us for the match, and had brought his servant with him. This man a most loyal and trusted retainer, for very many years a familiar figure at his master's beautiful home had always played cricket, and he was put into the Badminton Eleven for the day. His appearance in the field was like the picture of Mr. Mynn, which my cricketing readers will readily remember. " Do you mean to say that old bloke is BADMINTON 217 going to play ? " I was somewhat scornfully asked by one of the number. " Indeed, I do," was my answer. And, indeed, he did, and in a stiff, old- fashioned way he not only kept up his wicket, but, as I have said, was the only one to reach a score of more than nine runs ! Amongst the constant guests at Badminton, the amusing and accomplished John Loraine Baldwin will be well remembered. There was a little room at the end of the south corridor known as Mr. Baldwin's room. Especially I recall his skill as a gardener and a conjuror. In the latter capacity he gave a series of entertainments at a great bazaar, in 1872, for the restoration of Sopworth Church. And any who ever visited the little house at Tintern, where as Warden he passed his later years, will remember the conservatory, a present from the Prince of Wales and the Zingari Club, where his favourite flowers were grown. Speaking of cricket, we had in our neighbourhood a friend who in his day, both as a member of the Cambridge Eleven and of the Zingari, had attained a distinction that might easily have led a man of less deep convictions and lower aims to have sacrificed a great deal of time in so fascinating a game. But H. K. Boldero was not the man to do this. He had what men call a smooth path made ready, for his uncle, Sir John Neeld of Grittleton, a man who most honourably filled a place of great 218 OLD TIMES AND NEW influence, had early in his course presented him to a family benefice. Nothing that ordinarily goes to- wards making life bright and successful was lacking to him. He might have had a great deal of enjoy- ment, and his neighbours would have held him blameless. But he did not so choose. Perhaps I may be allowed to repeat what I have said else- where : " From the day that he placed himself under the famous old Vicar of Cirencester, Pre- bendary Powell, and served his apprenticeship in a well-worked town parish, onward to the close, he did not court his own ease. With the priesthood came a clear call to him, and he was not disobedient to it." Most truly was it written to me at his death : " The sense of loss here is deep and widespread, and there are many who feel that his removal makes a gap in their life that cannot be replaced, and that they have lost their best friend." Another notable neighbour was J. P. F. David- son, Vicar of Chipping Sodbury, a man of singular beauty of character, and rare sanctity of life. He carried through the restoration of the fine old parish church in such a manner as to make it the pride of the countryside, in the face of almost incomparable difficulties. Afterwards, as Warden of the House of Mercy at Fulham, and subse- quently as Vicar of St. Matthias, Earl's Court, he became a very well-known man. His sermons BADMINTON 219 were deeply thoughtful and marked by a per- suasiveness which held its own against opposition. The tragedy of his daughter's death on the road to St. Luc will still be fresh in every mind. There can be little doubt, I think, that the awful shock the accident happened in his actual sight, and he most narrowly escaped with a slight injury had much to do with curtailing a career full of helpful- ness to very many. None of the present generation is likely to have met anywhere with a more delightful specimen of the old-world gentleman (no earthly compliment can be higher) than Robert Vanbrugh Law, Rector of Christian Malford. He was at one time a well- known and expert rider to hounds not that he ever neglected his parish and schools on which, beyond the standard of the day, he bestowed an earnest attention. But sport was laid aside when a turn in his life was read by him as an intimation. He went abroad for a short time, and on his return never hunted again. He came of a distinguished and able family. His grandfather, Bishop of Carlisle, left several sons, three of whom became peers spiritual or temporal. The eldest was Bishop of Elphin ; another was Chief Justice, and raised to the Upper House as Baron Ellen- borough ; a third was Bishop, first of Chester, and afterwards of Bath and Wells. Robert Law had received a Canonry from his father when at 220 OLD TIMES AND NEW Chester, but, on the Bishop's translation to the southern see, being collated to the then valuable living of Christian Malford, he, for conscience sake, resigned the stall. It was as honourable, as it was at the time an unusual step to take, and it gives me as a grateful guest in my younger days high plea- sure to record it. Mr. Law was a reader such as we do not often encounter nowadays. He had the strange custom of reading out the whole hymn in church before it was sung. If most other people had done it, the effect would have been unbearable. Somehow, with him, it was not so. Our sojourn at Badminton covered several years. An invitation from a friend whom many knew and many love was not far from shortening it. Preben- dary Neville, of Butleigh, in the neighbouring county, having occasion through the loss of his son to leave home, offered me the charge of his parish in his absence. It was an attractive offer, but cir- cumstances led to my declining it. A mistake on the part of Bishop Wilberforce was certainly no usual thing, but even he was caught tripping once in a way. Mr. Neville, calling once on the late Canon Carter of Clewer, found that his friend's sick room had been a good deal disturbed by a letter from his Diocesan which he was totally unable to understand. It was handed to his visitor for his advice, and Mr. Neville in a moment had a BADMINTON 221 clue to the imbroglio. There had been a mistake as to the envelopes, and the distinguished cleric had received a missive intended for a well-known namesake a tradesman in the High Street at Oxford ! CHAPTER IX HENLEY SOME time in the seventies, a young clergyman was examining the list of an agent in London with a view to finding an eligible curacy. A rather off- hand clerk suggested a vacancy at Henley-on- Thames as likely to meet his requirements, adding as a double inducement, " The regatta every year, and the Rector a good sort of person." I do not think the applicant ever agreed to the proposal thus laid before him, but for one year it fell to my own lot to be on the staff at Henley. We were crowded out of our little house at Badminton, and had to find a new home. Greville Phillimore, the rector alluded to above, became a most agreeable friend, and his sudden death in 1884 ended an association marked by much interest. He was a Christ Church man, of the old Oxford scholarly sort, and in common with other members of his family was a man of linguistic tastes, and consider- HENLEY 223 able general cultivation. When he was Vicar of Down Ampney, in Gloucestershire, the then Vicar of Kempsford, Woodford, afterwards Bishop of Ely, and Canon Beadon, of Latton, joined with himself in the compilation of "The Parish Hymn Book." At one of their editorial conferences, held in Kempsford Vicarage, attention was called to the fact that a new hymn was needed for the Feast of the Annunciation. Phillimore left his companions for a solitary walk, and on his return brought with him the very graceful verses beginning " Lonely in her Virgin home." He was actively concerned with the institution of a School of Art in Henley, and enlisted my poor services as, I think, treasurer. My duties were not very onerous. He married a sister of the late Mr. Ambrose Goddard, M.P. for the Cricklade Hundred, as the seat was then styled. Mr. Goddard's place, the Lawn, Swindon, has its gates in the busy street of a now populous town. No effect can well be more striking than that which awaits a visitor after passing the lodge. He has left all the bustle behind him, and from a beauti- fully-wooded and quiet pleasure-ground has the Wiltshire hills in delightful prospect. Phillimore had many good stories to tell. Here is one about his brother, the late distinguished and 224 OLD TIMES AND NEW learned Dean of the Arches. The Archbishop of Canterbury (Tait) had occasion to see him on some matter of great urgency. A message brought Sir Robert to Lambeth at an hour so early that breakfast was in progress. He was shown at once into the room where the Archbishop was awaiting him. Looking up from his meal, his Grace, who was eating an egg, exclaimed, "Welcome, Sir Robert, and now we can begin ab ovo" " Cer- tainly," replied the Dean, with a readiness that amounted to genius, " but let us hope that we shall not proceed usque ad mala." Here is another Lambeth story, which belongs to this time (1875), though not connected with the Phillimores. A large assemblage of dignitaries was gathered round the breakfast table. Next to the Archbishop sat a visitor from the Northern Pro- vince. Every face was well known to him, except one, and presently he asked his host who the stranger might be. "Oh," replied the Archbishop, " it is not one of ourselves it is a friend from Scotland, a minister of the kirk." " I thought," was the rejoinder, "that it might be Lord Pen- zance" The Archbishop promptly applied himself to his coffee-cup. I remember after a foreign excursion receiving the following lines from my old rector : "Pour aller voir La fdret noire HENLEY 225 II faut d'argent un sac, Une ame sans gene, Une jambe assez saine, Et aussi un estomac." The allusion of the last line but one was to the condition of his ankle, which he had sprained some- what severely. A very pleasant acquaintance was formed at Henley with my rector's younger relations. One of them was an indefatigable walker, and duly armed with map and compass he and I set out one foggy winter day for Watlington Court. My wife's brother had married one of the Shaen Carters, and I wanted to call at the house. Of course, we lost our way, and our appearance when we arrived late for luncheon must have been very bedraggled. Like all his family, he was a well- read, able man. I have never forgotten his ready solution of the odd name of Poison-Ducks on the Thames, near Hurley. He imagined it to be Poisson-le-Duc, from the fisheries of the Earl of Cornwall, afterwards King of the Romans. It is worth while recording how he came at that par- ticular time to be a guest at Henley Rectory. He had been staying with another relation, Sir Robert, at the Coppice. But Mr. Gladstone and Canon Liddon had both arrived, and his room was wanted. So he came away. But think what a trio was assembled in that pleasant little country house ! 16 226 OLD TIMES AND NEW And what must not the conversation have been when those three men gathered round the fireside as the evening drew on. Henley in those days had a Corporation which I think was still un reformed. I remember being much struck by the scale on which municipal insti- tutions were maintained in what was then a smaller town than it is now. I believe changes have taken place of late years, but not perhaps in the way of diminishing the number of offices. At any rate, we then boasted a learned recorder, a bench of alder- men, and divers officials. The maces were exceed- ingly good. The Corporation attended the parish church on certain fixed occasions with a measure of state which I heartily hope has not been dis- continued. There was a certain elderly member of the body, who has long since I believe passed away, and whose appearance was exactly hit off by Phillimore, who used to call him "the Burgomaster." The mayor during nearly the whole of our sojourn in Henley was Mr. Brakespear. In early life he had lived a great deal in France, where he had relations by inter-marriage, and where he passed through some stirring experiences. On the morning of one Regatta day he had gone into the yard of the "Catherine Wheel," when he was suddenly accosted by a Frenchman who had just arrived, and who was perfectly unknown to him. HENLEY 227 Mr. Brakespear was in a hurry, and had been taken considerably by surprise. For one awkward minute there was the risk of a misunderstanding, which was happily averted by the stranger pro- ducing his credentials, when the resident became aware, to his surprise and pleasure, that the new- comer was a Laroche-Jacquelin, with whose family he had been formerly associated. When Mr. Brakespear left France in his youth the party stayed for a night at an inn, where they were waited on by a very striking young woman, whose appearance was not likely to be forgotten. A very great number of years passed away before he revisited the scenes of early days. Again he put up at the same house, and was received at the door by a tall, stately, elderly person. The hand- some girl of years gone by had remained there ever since. The parish church of Henley is remarkable for its width, as the many who have visited the pretty old town will remember. Regatta Sunday was favourably known by its results in the collections. But perhaps not more than a few are aware that in the south side chapel is the monument of one who ended his days in the then comparative seclusion of the river side, and over whose career angry dispute has been waged. A century and more has swept by since Dumouriez was fired upon by the National battalions near the village of Doumet, and rode for 228 OLD TIMES AND NEW life through darkness and dangers till he reached the quarters of General Mack. We received a great deal of kindness from many quarters during the short time we lived at Henley. Letters of introduction had been given by the late Duke of Beaufort at Stonor Park, and thus an acquaintance was formed with the Lord Camoys, in whose favour the Queen, not long after her accession, determined the abeyance of the ancient barony. He was a man who, to use a common expression, " carried his years " in a remarkable way. His personal strength at a late period of life was very great. On one occasion he spoke to me of Cardinal Manning, whom he compared un- favourably with Cardinal Newman. 1 Talking of the former, I may mention that just at this time we got at Bristol station into the same railway carriage with him. It was the only occasion on which I ever met His Eminence. His manners and conversation were charming. And indeed his whole bearing was so winning that our eldest daughter, then a small child, was emboldened to lean against his shoulder and go comfortably to sleep, a proceeding which he in no way resented. It was not through any letter of introduction, but because of his own native kindness and courtesy, 1 I had quoted to him the saying of the Forties, that Manning's sermons were " Newman set to music." His reply was, " In a minor key." HENLEY 229 that pleasant relations sprang up with the late Mr. W. H. Smith. He and Mrs. Smith, now Lady Hambleden, were at the pains of calling on us in our modest curate's house in New Street. There was never a trace of patronage ; it was all as natural as it could be. And herein is, we must all say, a leading charm in a lofty character. Those to whom acts of this sort are unknown are ignorant also of some among the happiest bonds in social life. The gratitude that follows on acts of wellbred kindness is the prelude of permanent regard. Another pleasant acquaintance was with the Hon. C. and Mrs. Boyle, the parents of the present Lady Tennyson, and of the Clifton College hero, who fell so gallantly in the South African campaign. A remark of Mr. Boyle's to the effect that as life wore on there was a sadness following on the successive changes in long familiar houses, the furniture in the rooms remaining while the faces once known so well had vanished from the scene, spoken as it was with a special pathos of voice and manner, has never faded from my memory. Dr. Lawson Cape, the eminent London physi- cian, was a visitor for a considerable time while I held the curacy, and in him and Mrs. Cape we found very staunch friends. One day, talking to me about his life, he said, " When I first surrendered practice I used to congratulate myself that I could no longer be fetched away just as I was beginning 230 OLD TIMES AND NEW my soup at dinner, but now I often wish for the old busy round again." Readers of "Elia" will recall that eventful day in his life when he too "came home for ever." Talking of doctors, there was a wonderful old member of the profession still living and exceedingly active in Henley. Mr. Jeston had been employed as a surgeon in the Peninsula wars, and in 1876 might often be seen sculling on the river, attired in his old-fashioned white stock and high hat. I once asked him about his rule of living, as it seemed a fair opportunity for obtaining the secret of longevity. In his reply my veteran friend dwelt on the fact that for many years he had always made his own wine. I did not feel competent to follow his example. One very odd experience befell me in Henley Church. Three couples came to be married, and as I was going from the vestry the clerk asked me what was to be done, as one of the intending brides was stone deaf. I suggested that a prayer-book should be held before her, and that the answers should be pointed out when the time came to make them. This was done, and we started hopefully. But alas ! for my ingenious scheme. Very soon after, instead of following her mentor's prompting, the good woman, in reply to a query in the service, announced to me confidentially, but in very audible tones, "I'm fifty-three! " HENLEY 231 All visitors to Henley will remember the long steep declivity that leads to the beautiful old bridge from the high ground on the Remenham side. There used to be a turnpike at the bridge end, and in turnpike days the King or Queen always went toll free. Queen Victoria was on one occasion travelling by this road, but the gate was kept closed by its custodian, who objected to the Sovereign's privilege. The story goes that the carriage was actually in sight, when a determined loyalist con- fronted the obdurate official, and by offering an alternative the river or an open gate in such a manner as to leave no room for doubt as to his entire sincerity, obtained a free passage for Royalty just in the very nick of time. There were two Grammar Schools, a higher and a lower, now, I think, amalgamated. The master of the latter, in my curate days, had the power of enlisting the attachment of his boys in no ordinary degree. And here is a curious proof of it. We suffered in the winter from high floods. The gas lamp at the end of New Street towards the river remained lighted by day as well as by night for some time, such was the difficulty of approaching it. At an inn on the river side affected by the water one of Mr. Rawling's pupils lived. And the lad, rather than miss attendance at school, waded on to dry ground with his shoes tied round his neck. A testimony to the teacher indeed. 232 OLD TIMES AND NEW This same winter I had occasion to start on short notice for Torquay. When the "Flying Dutchman" ran into Bristol station, I noticed that there were placards affixed in different prominent places, but did not happen to read them. We were not long before we became aware of their contents. The river Parrott had dangerously overflowed, and suddenly we found ourselves entering on a vast expanse of water. It was indeed a memorable sight. There was the famous fast Great Western train very slowly creeping along a mile, if my memory serves me rightly, in something under twenty minutes while boats were rowed close up to the carriage windows. The danger of the ballast being washed away must have been considerable, and I do not think that any one who took part in that journey would ever desire a repetition of the adventure. I might write more. There are names that I omit with reluctance, associated as they are with many an act of kindness, and a tried loyalty of friendship. But, happily, their owners are living, and I must not depart from the rule I laid down when I began these pages. CHAPTER X HIGHNAM "I DO not know what the emoluments of Highnam may be, but I should think it quite remuneration enough to live beneath that glorious fresco," so wrote an old and dear friend, himself an architect of a refined and reverent spirit, on my being appointed Vicar of the Holy Innocents' Church. I cannot better begin this part of my story than by giving some account of this famous building. Readers of Macaulay's History will recall that most picturesque passage in which, comparing the England of 1685 with that of his own day, he says that "The country gentleman would not recognise his own fields. The inhabitant of the town would not recognise his own street. Everything has been changed, but the great features of nature, and a few massive and durable works of human art." This is eminently true of Highnam. The old chapel which 234 OLD TIMES AND NEW once stood in what is now the garden of the Court has long ago vanished, the magnificent edifice that is the glory of the country side occupies a site which in itself is an apt illustration of the historian's words. The coach road of former times ran considerably westward of its present track. Its old direction can still be clearly traced near the eastern end of the church. There was a lane that struck off from it, skirted by high banks, and now for half a century where these things used to be, thousands of visitors have feasted their eyes on the noble building, set in its surrounding acre, bordered by avenues of Irish yews that suggest a procession of giants bearing their dead chief to his grave. It is worth noting that the church stands where once a battle was fought, and cannon balls came to light in digging the foundations. The great spire, its eight faces elaborate with foliated work, soars above, a land- mark far and wide. It is a thing to be recorded, on every account, that when Sir Gilbert Scott first saw it, he declared it to be the finest modern spire within his own observation. The history of Highnam Church is a typical piece of English Church History. When the late Mr. Gambier Parry purchased the estate in 1837, the property was co-terminus with three hamlets making up a considerable district. The furthest point was at a considerable distance from the Mother Church ; the old Chapel, as I have said, had disappeared. HIGHNAM 235 Church, Vicarage, Schools, Endowment, all came into being from one munificent hand. Some people seem to forget that the free-will offerings of our own time are in line with the great deeds of our fore- fathers. Because like things were done a thousand years since, why are the resulting gifts less the Church's own than that of the founder of Highnam? By the way, Mr. Parry once told me (and it is a further illustration of what was said just now) that on his first possession of the property the ground below the site of the church was a piece of useless marsh. He let it to a potato grower, rent free, with a view to its redemption. This was long before the days of disease. The lucky tenant made an excellent profit out of the transaction, and in due time a stretch of firm and fertile soil was returned to the landlord. And thus, as our Devonshire saying goes, no one "was the loser" after all. The time when the church was projected, and the years in which it was being built, were days of grave anxiety and distress. Newman had but lately left us, and the English Church was still "reeling" under the blow, when the enterprise first took a practical form. The Gorham decision was given the year before the building was consecrated. High hopes had been disappointed, fresh apprehen- sions had begun to take shape. But the object of the founder was clear before him, as his faith 236 OLD TIMES AND NEW in the credentials and mission of the National Church was firm and unvarying. He meant that new parish church, built in a troublous time, to be a centre of reverent worship, a witness to the truth of Anglican principles. And from the very first it began to be a power. Assuredly Mr. Gambier Parry was not disappointed in the main design which he had carried into effect, and many and many a person must have learned at Highnam the first rudiments of what worship really is many and many a heart, sad and perplexed, re-assured by the re-assertion of obscured truths. A generation that has grown up since those days amid the revival of religion can scarcely imagine the effect of the services, rendered by a choir of surpliced boys, and maintained without stint, an offering as worthy as might be of Him to whom it was given. Some years before the time came for the present writer to resign the living, in one particular the church had done its work. All around, from the glorious Cathedral of Gloucester to the smallest parish in the countryside, a new order of things had set in. Highnam was overtaken by the main body to which she had acted so long as pioneer. No longer were groups of attentive worshippers to be found in the porch and far out into the churchyard joining in the sacred strain, no longer were the winter Sunday Evensongs eagerly sought by the villagers from the district round, for multiplied opportunities were HIGHNAM 237 now obtainable at their own doors. The Holy Innocents' Church was a "venture of faith" when men's hearts were failing them for fear. Time went on, and the enterprise was abundantly justified. The visitor then, as indeed to-day, might wonder how music so excellent was obtainable from a population so sparse. The answer is that the year before the consecration a choral society was set on foot, and afterwards a resident organist was appointed by the generous action of the founder. Every child that showed the least capacity for singing had ample opportunities for cultivating the voice. And the results were a remarkable proof of what can be done. In the fifties the open-air concerts were a well-known institution. Again and again, I have known solo boys from the cottages, with a quality of voice and a correctness of render- ing that out-distanced many a place of far larger resources. It is difficult to convey to a reader who has never stood within the church of Highnam the pro- foundly religious effect that is attained. Perhaps if it is said that of all modern churches it is in spirit the most unmodern, and that there is in the union of architectural design with the richness of colour, a suggestiveness of mystery, an inspiring sense of awe, a feeling of things that are not of this present world, some slight indication may be con- 238 OLD TIMES AND NEW veyed. "The beauty of holiness " was the summary expressed by one, highly-gifted, who has now passed away from us. The method of spirit-fresco by which the great wall paintings were produced, and which, after some forty English winters, has fully vindicated its claim, was the founder's own discovery. It was never rewarded. His own country passed him by, and it was reserved for a neighbouring nation to do all that was done in the direction of awarding him praise. And by the irony of events even this was not to be. Just as France was about to bestow her mark of recognition, it was found that Hippolyte Flandrin had independently arrived at a similar process, and, as was of course but natural, the prize went to him. Nay, more, even the casket pre- sented by the Dean and Chapter of Ely, in acknow- ledgment of the great artistic services rendered freely to that Cathedral, was not destined to survive. In a burglary that was long after talked about, the thieves made off with this, and, I think, wrenched off the silver, but left the oak box behind them. A visit of the late Mr. Edwin Long, R.A., to Highnam Church brought a very pleasant result to me. Shortly afterwards I was introduced to him in his studio, and the sequel of his sight of the wall paintings and our subsequent conversation in London was the welcome arrival of a photograph HIGHNAM 239 of " Anno Domini," sent me by himself. He was, I remember, engaged on "Jephthah's Daughter" when I saw him at work. I may here insert a curious anecdote Mr. Parry told me of the time when he was engaged on the walls of the church. One day, mounted on his scaffold and clad in a linen jacket much besplashed with colours, he observed a visitor enter the build- ing and look round him superciliously, much as Canon Liddon has described a certain class of worshipper (?) who brings to the services of the Church the favour of his splendid patronage. Presently the painter addressed him, and expressed a hope that he was pleased with what he saw. " Oh ! the church is well enough," was the reply, "but I'm a great deal more pleased to have seen you." "Indeed," rejoined Mr. Parry, "and may I ask why ? " " Why," was the answer, " because I have heard that this Mr. Parry gives himself out as the artist, and now I have been and seen you doing it." "As if," our friend afterwards commented, " he expected to see me at work in a frock coat and kid gloves." Before quitting the subject of the church, I will just add that the triumph of artistic genius is to be seen in the fact that things usually so hopelessly ugly are at Highnam features of beauty. I do not think such charming work is any- 240 OLD TIMES AND NEW where else to be found surrounding a heating apparatus. And I fancy that while his friend, Mr. Woodyer, was the designer of the actual building, some of these features are to be credited to the rare taste and capacity of the founder himself. Let me try to say something of this remarkable man, of whom no record has been written, to whose great gifts and noble life such scanty justice has been done. He told me once that of human direc- tion in the selection of a special career he had little or nothing. His great-uncle, the gallant and good Lord Gambier, the first President of the Church Missionary Society, was the guardian of his orphan childhood, and he always deeply respected his memory. Eton, Cambridge, foreign travel, and the purchase of an estate fairly comprise what was in regular order mapped out for him. The rest, on his own assurance, was absolutely the Divine lead- ing. Thus it came to pass that without extraneous prompting he had, before he took his degree, visited every church within a considerable radius of the University that possessed any special points of interest, and had made sketches of its notable features. This, it must be remembered, was before the inauguration of the Cambridge Camden Society. As an undergraduate also he made the valuable purchase of the Liber Studiorum. One very characteristic story of the Eton of his HIGHNAM 241 days may find a place at this point. He had been sent by his fag-master to buy a cold roast fowl for tea or supper, and was returning with it, when, face to face, in a place that admitted of no shirking, he encountered the terrible Dr. Keate. " Boy, what have we here?" was the immediate question. There could only be one reply, but the Head was con- templating what instant disposal could be made of contraband goods. Fortune favoured him. A poor woman came round the corner, who, much terrified, obeyed the summons of Dr. Keate. Yet more to her surprise, he presented her with the confiscated dainty, and poor young Parry was fain to return re infectd to report his mis- adventure, with results which it is possibly easy to conjecture. It was in the spell of travelling in Italy which followed his degree, the first of a long series of journeys, that a very important stage was reached in my old friend's art-development. For then the foundation was laid of that valuable and most interesting collection in which the many visitors at Highnam Court were able to delight during after years. It would be out of place here to enter into detail, and it must be sufficient to say that from the remarkably fine Cimabue onwards among the pictures, the Consular diptych as, I think, the earliest of the curios, with work of Mino da Fiesole on the one hand, and rare examples of 17 242 OLD TIMES AND NEW mediaeval glass and china on the other, there is a varied and an ample feast for the eye that is taught to know the lines and tokens of beauty. One picture of a modern date I must take leave especially to notice, because it happens to be inci- dentally the only portrait extant of Kempenfelt, who went down with the ill-fated Royal George, the subject of the dirge "Toll for the brave." Mr. Gambier Parry's grandfather accompanied Admiral Cornish as his Private Secretary on the Manila expedition. He was painted by Zoffany, sitting in the Admiral's cabin, ready to take notes of an interview between his chief, and Kempenfelt, who is entering the cabin in response to a signal. There is no finer example of this great artist, I believe, anywhere in existence. There was no mistaking Gambier Parry's artistic vocation. The singularly mobile face, the rapidity and eloquence of gesture that alternated with phases of a remarkable repose it was impossible to be in his company casually for an hour without understanding that his was a most unusual person- ality. He was in the fullest sense of the term a cultivated man. His was a nature that abhorred smattering, and whether it were languages, music, painting, antiquarian research, horticulture, or what HIGHNAM 243 not, you felt in a moment that you had to do with a man who not only possessed talent, but who also seconded it by conscientious industry. No anecdote ever caused more amusement to his friends than that of a most ludicrous mistake made long ago by a lady whom, as a perfect stranger, he had taken in to dinner at a London house. By way of starting a conversation he asked her if she had noticed the very large price just then obtained by an egg of the great Auk. Her answer was, " I think you mean a hawk, do you not ? " Gambier Parry and a dropped H ! Yes, he was an artist of rare order. Those who like myself enjoyed his friendship for many years were persons exceptionally favoured. And one may only too truly regret that such advantages as were thus afforded were not in my own case turned to better account. Art was with him a matter that allowed of no trifling. A dilettante playing with the subject was simply abhorrent to his mind. He taught us how a true picture was no servile trans- ference of detail to canvas. He grasped the inner "soul " of a landscape, and then clothed the concep- tion with colour. In one word, he regarded Art as nothing less than a revelation, and I cannot sum- marise his thought better than by quoting his own words. " The origin and consummation of beauty is in that Love which God has said He 'is." ..." Happy are they that have their hearts 244 OLD TIMES AND NEW pure, and their intelligence of sense and spirit bright, to perceive beneath the outward show of things, the living Majesty of that Wisdom, Power, and Love Divine, whence PERFECT BEAUTY, the fountain of all joy, flows forth for ever." Our mutual friend, the late Archdeacon Norris, once said to me, " Gambier Parry is an anachronism, he has no business to be alive, for he is a Floren- tine gentleman of the fifteenth century." Many an old friend will recognise the fidelity of the descrip- tion, but it was not intended to cover the whole ground, for no one knew better than Norris how much it left unnoticed. For Parry was no dreamy idealist, of all men he was the most diligent, and that, too, for con- science sake, in districts of work that often taxed his endurance to the utmost. Each morning found him at the daily service of the Church, a prelude to a day of exacting activities, and which was too often prolonged by arrears of work until another day had begun. Diocesan institutions and societies had in him their most strenuous worker, but county business, magisterial work, and endless committees equally claimed his time and his thought. Looking back at it all from the standpoint of the present I understand now, as I did not then, the peculiarly pathetic situation of this gifted spirit, unflinchingly plodding on with routine business, hour after hour HIGH NAM 245 of the precious sunshine that meant so much for him in his life as a painter. And when the Angel of the last summons gently touched him and bade him go, it was at the close of a day given, so far as his swiftly failing strength would permit, to the service of the great Cathedral church which his genius had already so enriched. There is across the face of St. Andrew's Chapel, opening out of the southern transept, a colossal buttress to support the outward thrust of the tower. Many years before he had made the walls of this "little sanctuary" glorious with his brush, and now, as the end drew on, the Dean (Dr. Spence) had consulted him on behalf of the Chapter as to a possible treatment of this difficult feature. He saw in a moment that the masonry lent itself to a representation of Jacob's ladder, and he began diligently to make studies of the angels ascending and descending upon it. I shall always esteem it a privilege that my youngest daughter sat to him in this his closing earthly work. For it was on the eve of St. Michael that, having remarked to an old friend who was a guest in the house that he had painted the last of the series, he exchanged, after a few minutes of sudden unconsciousness, the aspirations and travail of a noble life amidst the things that are seen for the far better vision dawning ever more and more fully where time and space are not. His last completed work, a noble triptych, was placed at his head 246 OLD TIMES AND NEW where he awaited his last earthly rest. So he died, and a mighty concourse of all classes and conditions of men gathered in the autumn after- noon around his grave beneath the eastern window. There was grieving far and wide when it became known that this loyal, lovable Church- man, artist, and gentleman had passed from our midst. He had won the enthusiastic regard and affection of many the gratitude of numberless sharers in his bounty. A magnificent window in the Cathedral records his life and work, but the best monuments outside Highnam itself are, after all, the Children's Hospital and the St. Lucy's House of Charity, that owed their existence to him. Year by year adds to the many thousands who have found the relief of bodily suffering through his unstinted generosity, and for the rest, the hidden store of spiritual blessing due to his initiative and fostering care, that Day shall declare it. A succession of guests, men and women of high report in the world of letters and of art, in Church and State, enjoyed the graceful hospitality of Highnam Court. Mrs. Gambier Parry was a model hostess. She was a lady of much cultiva- tion, with a considerable experience of the world, and the admirable gift of always being interested in what interested her guests. Her own family supplied a notable number among those who made HIGH NAM 247 Highnam Court such a charming place for visitors in old days. Her brother-in-law, the brave and true-hearted Bishop Hamilton of Salisbury ; his saintly wife ; her brother Sidney's widow, the accomplished authoress of "A Dominican Artist"; Sir Vivian Majendie, the great authority on explosives, who bore so leading a part as inspector in the dynamite troubles, were amongst the group. I do not forget how much more is to be said of Mrs. Gambier Parry her high spiritual ideal, and, inter alia, her fine taste and skill in Church needlework, whereby many a place was made glorious. But I pass on. A few among the names of the guests which I recall may not be without interest. Arch- bishop Tait, Canon Liddon, Sir Frederick Leighton, the Earl and Countess of Selborne, Sir Michael Hicks- Beach, Dr. Ball (Astronomer Royal), Mr. Freeman, the historian, Mr. Beresford Hope, Mr. Ferguson, Mrs. Fawcett, and Captain Galton a mere fraction of a famous throng. Their host's table-talk, it is needless to add, was most varied and brilliant. He had enjoyed exceptional opportunities, and had exceptionally employed them. The Lyttelton family were several of them on intimate terms with the Highnam Court people. One evening this story of the late Lord Lyttelton was told us. There had been a lively but friendly 248 OLD TIMES AND NEW passage of arms between him and Archdeacon Denison. George Anthony indignantly rejoined that his Lordship seemed to consider Archidiaconal duties as chiefly negative. To which the answer was that the only negative aspect involved was that which every one would unite to wish the Arch- deacon, viz., a mens sa-nay in a corpore sa-no. This brilliant sally must have restored peace on the instant. Before I close this brief sketch, it occurs to me to set down two reminiscences of Mr. Parry's, sin- gularly illustrative of England in the thirties. He described on one occasion to a party where I was present a trial trip made on the London and Bir- mingham Railway (now the London and North- Western) as far as Berkhamstead. A number of invitations had been issued, and he was included. All went well to the very close of the day, when as the train entered Euston Station in some way control was lost on the brakes, and the engine ran with great force against the blocks at the end of the platform, on which, in various directions, the luckless excursionists were scattered. And the other takes me back again to dear old Torquay. He always called the Strand " Frying-pan Row," from early association, by the way. And he would relate how as a very young man he went out sketching amidst exquisite surroundings, where now houses stand thickly, and as he painted, a HIGHNAM 249 gentleman from one of the very few residences near came out in astonishment to watch what he evidently thought was an unusual pursuit, and ended by waiting in person on the artist, and fetching water to supply his needs. CHAPTER XI HIGHNAM (continued) ANOTHER well-known man with whom I was closely associated in Highnam days was William Philip Price, the owner of the adjoining property, Tibberton Court. His was assuredly a notable personality. Educated at Rugby, he must there have acquired the first elements of a classic taste that was so marked a feature of his later years. He married very early, acquiring a very consider- able fortune with his wife, and gave up the first few years that followed first to travel, and then to sport, of which he was exceedingly fond. But it was not very long before he formed the definite resolution of turning life to the fullest account, and gradually his extraordinary power became evident. What a crowded life it was as stage after stage of it was developed ! The great timber firm, of which he was senior partner, might have supplied to most men more than enough to do. It was only one 250 HIGH NAM 251 item in the list of employments, each and all of the first importance. Chairman of the Midland Rail- way Company, as well as Chairman of the Gloucestershire Banking Company ; twenty years in the House of Commons ; and then a Railway Commissioner till the time of his death. Nor does even this enumeration exhaust the list. He carried on farming on a large scale, partly by neces- sity as land troubles began. And with all this his loved classical studies went on. Visitors to Tib- berton in those days will remember a shelf quaintly contrived in the mantelpiece of his library where a row of favourite authors in miniature were ready to their owner's hand. It may well be asked how such a formidable array of occupations could ever have been attempted with any hope of success. The answer is doubtless partly to be found in the fact that Mr. Price was able to carry out the busi- ness of life on a marvellously small measure of sleep. Four hours sufficed him, while two more were allowed for lying in bed, " to rest his bones," as he used to say. But a table with a lamp was by his side, and in those two hours he kept abreast of the magazine literature of the day. Then again he possessed in a most remarkable degree the power of concentration. He had acquired, too, the faculty of quickly disentangling the vital portion of any business in hand from all that was merely indifferent or superfluous. After all this, my reader 252 OLD TIMES AND NEW will not be surprised to hear that Mr. Price was never in a hurry, but always appeared to have the time to attend to you and your matters which a different class of man, with not a tenth part so much to do, would have irritably declared to be absolutely impossible. One way and another I used to see a good deal of him. He was always exceedingly kind to me, and he was, always, "excellent company." Our conversations were largely on religious sub- jects. He had been, to use his own expression, "swaddled in Unitarianism." There were times when it seemed as though he approached the fron- tiers of the Faith, and looked wistfully at that which he could not bring himself wholly to accept. I shall never forget his delight with the sermons of Eugene Bersier. As the volumes reached me, I used to pass them on to him. The beauty of those wonder- ful discourses, and the strength of the appeal that was clothed in such exquisite language won greatly upon him. But the strong active life that seemed as if it were endowed with immunity against years and weakness, with brief warning came to an end, and the spirit that was in such sympathy with all that made for personal religion, passed into the presence of the One who alone knows all, and alone judges right. The winter of 1890-91 was severe. He took a chill one day on a journey, and though he held out HIGHNAM 253 for a while, there was a great and evident change. On Easter Even I met a tenant of his in Gloucester who pressed me to go to Tibberton without delay. I did so on the Monday, but the physician from Malvern had arrived, and I was unable to see him. That evening very suddenly the call came, and the association of many years was at an end. Some time before this an incident occurred of so unusual a character, in which his own part was so delightfully discharged, that my readers would not readily forgive its omission. Many years ago a certain Mr. Case of Brasenose, an intimate friend of Bishop Forbes of Brechin, joined the Roman Catholic Communion. He was ordained, and became a Canon, I think, of Clifton. His charge was the mission in Gloucester, where he formed a close friendship with Mr. Price, whom he named as executor of his will. When the Infallibility decree was promulgated, Canon Case was unable to accept it. And when the time came for a definite course of action to be taken, he resigned his cure. There is, I believe, little doubt that his beliefs had been considerably disintegrated for some little time, and he passed not only (necessarily) into lay com- munion, but eventually into a position of Agnos- ticism. His friend, the learned and saintly Prelate, had pre-deceased him, and among poor Case's effects were found a pectoral cross that had belonged to the Bishop, and one other relic of his old com- 254 OLD TIMES AND NEW panion, but what it was I cannot now recall. Mr. Price, finding these treasures, consulted me as to their disposal. I suggested that I should enter into com- munication with the then Bishop of Brechin as to their conveyance to the see. Mr. Price immediately fell in with the plan. The gifts were forwarded by him to Scotland, accepted by the Diocesan Synod which was then sitting, and placed as a permanent possession in the episcopal residence. Eminent alike among our neighbours and in the ranks of English country gentlemen, was the late Mr. Barwick Lloyd Baker of Hardwicke Court. Born to an ample inheritance, his long life knew little leisure, rather it was one sustained activity on behalf of those whom sin or sorrow had placed in the shady by-paths of our social life. He once, in talking to me, epigrammatically summed up his career in this sort, " For many years I was a criminal, and now for many years I have been a pauper." That is to say, he devoted all his earlier energies to combatting crime, and his latter efforts were directed to the problems of poverty. Not long before his death, reviewing the past with his old friend, Mr. Gambier Parry, he said, " Do you know, I think I must have had a good bit of the mule in me ? " All who ever knew him will recog- nise readily enough the feature which he thus in homely words described. There was in him that noble obstinacy which disdains danger, declines dis- HIGHNAM 255 suasions, and, as on the field of Waterloo, does not know when it is beaten. Not that Mr. Barwick Baker ever was beaten. Where he was pioneer a multitude followed within no long time, and he was spared for many years to see the growing results of his beneficent initiative. It must have been about the year 1835 or 1836 that he entered on his duties as a visiting justice of the county gaol. And it was the sight of boys and lads who had fallen into evil courses being sent time after time to prison, that led him into that splendid enterprise of Industrial Schools with which his honoured name will always be inseparably asso- ciated. It is true that towards the close of the eighteenth o century an attempt was made in London to set up a reformatory, but the laudable scheme unhappily failed, as did also one or two later endeavours. But the moment had come, and the man. I should rather say, the men. For it was to Mr. George Bengough, of the Ridge, in the county of Gloucester, that Mr. Barwick Baker was indebted for that vigorous co-operation which enabled him to put his matured theories into actual practice. The first buildings, often since then enlarged, were set up at Hardwicke, near the canal, in 1852. It was at once a success, and when the founder's letter on the diminution of juvenile crime in the country was reprinted by the Times, the " flowing tide set 256 OLD TIMES AND NEW in." The work has gone forward by leaps and bounds since then. Before I quit the subject of Hardwicke, I must not fail to mention the magnificent Zoffany that is so cherished a possession there. It represents a family water-party (musical) on the Thames. I have already spoken of the famous example of this good artist at Highnam Court. Fortunate the county that possesses two such pictures in such close neighbourhood. Mr. Barwick Baker carefully pre- served his recollections of the terrible Bristol Riots in 1831. He used to say that he well remembered standing with his father in front of Hardwicke Court, and seeing clearly the red glow from the distant burning town. He related at length how his servant woke him early, to say that in the night a post-chaise and four had passed at a gallop, and that a little after a squadron of the i4th Light Dragoons had followed swiftly towards Bristol. " Before breakfast Mrs. Beckwith, the wife of the Major, came from Gloucester and asked us to take her in, as an express had come the night before to her husband who was in command, Colonel Town- send being on leave, ordering him to go to Bristol. Mrs. Beckwith stayed with us till the Major returned, and the then numerous stage coaches that passed our lodge brought us constant news from Bristol. "When the officers returned, of course many of HIGHNAM 257 them dined with us, and we had much talk. My impression is as follows. Beckwith posted down as fast as four horses could take him, but stopped at Filton, called up Gage, and ordered him to march his squadron to the Temple (College) Green, as it was then called. Beckwith drove on, caught a magistrate, and came to the Green. It was at that time an awkward place. It was not only surrounded by iron hurdles, but several footpaths crossed it, and these were also fenced by iron hurdles, dividing it, as it were, into so many sheep pens. The mob got into the Green, and thought themselves safe. As soon as Beckwith came, the Magistrate read the Riot Act, and gave the men, I believe, one minute to disperse, and as no one moved, ordered the troops to act. Kit Musgrave at once set his horse at the iron hurdles, ran against them, turned round, and this time his horse cleared them. Of course, that enclosure was emptied at once, and the horse having learned the work jumped the other hurdles readily. A dozen of his troopers tried the same, some fell, but some got over, and as fast as men could run the Green was quit. The squadron re- formed, and trotted down the hill over the Draw- bridge, one troop turned to the right along the Quay, and then to the left into Queen's Square, the other straight on along Corn Street, and then to the right, so as to enter Queen Square on different sides. The Square was cleared about as quickly 18 258 OLD TIMES AND NEW as the Green, and then they broke into small detachments, rode about the streets, dispersed any attempts at a crowd, and the riot was at an end." Such, nearly in his own words, was Mr. Barwick Baker's narrative of an awful episode in Bristol history. One last word as to the Cathedral city close by, and where the reverend Bishop, and other friends, affectionate and true, are still living. When I first went to Highnam as Vicar, the Chapter consisted of Dean Law, and Canons Harvey, Sir John Seymour, Tinling, and Evans, the Master of Pem- broke. It is a pleasure to record an act of charming Christian courtesy on the part of the first named. Some criticisms had been passed on an unpretending address of mine, one Saturday afternoon, to working men in the Chapter Room of the Cathedral. The exceptions taken were laid before the Dean. He went into the matter, and came to the conclusion that they were not warranted by the wording of the address. And then, though very far indeed from agreeing with me, he drove out to express his kindly confidence by a call at the Vicarage. It was among the last acts of his life. Canon Harvey will long be remembered as a man of dauntless energy. His industry and frugality were very remarkable. When he was nearing four- score years, he said to me, " I only have an egg for breakfast when I have four services." He remained HIGHNAM 259 to the last hour his strength allowed him at Hornsey, and only left it when the vast increase of population made his withdrawal an absolute necessity. To Canon Tinling there is due a debt of deepest gratitude for his untiring labours in the improvement of the Cathedral Services. Like Mr. Barwick Baker, he did not understand discourage- ment. At first the early Celebration on each Sunday and Holy day were only held in his residence. But his perseverance won the field, and three years later a uniform system was inaugurated. He was a most interesting person. A long experi- ence of an Inspector's life from the early days of the Education Department had made him widely acquainted with men and places. And in him there was that rare thing found, that with advancing years and the habits of public life, his own convic- tions were never diminished in force, or his corre- sponding religious activities abated. He was as simply in earnest when at the head of his profession as he was in its first stages. He was at one time curate to Sydney Smith. It is astonishing, by the way, how very little is recorded in Bristol of Sydney Smith's association with the Cathedral and city. Beyond the scanty mention of his house, and the familiar episode of the Toleration Sermons, Lady Holland gives us nothing in his " Life." And I do not think I have 260 OLD TIMES AND NEW heard more than a solitary anecdote besides, and that a well known one. But here is a story of him which I believe to be much less a piece of common knowledge. It relates to the old days of Archbishop Vernon Harcourt, in whose palace the Yorkshire clergyman was a prized and privileged guest. A gentleman who had brought letters of introduction was invited to dine. It was discovered, when too late, that he was a persistent bore, whose one subject was entomology. He talked insects all through dinner, and when the ladies left the room he made his way up to his host, and began something in this way. " Your Grace is doubtless aware that the common house-fly has the largest ocular construc- tions in proportion to its size of any other creature of the class." Sydney Smith came to rescue with a bold contradiction. The visitor was very angry, but the audacious cleric went on to assert that he was sure of his ground, and that his information was based on wider reading than mere text-books. And when the irritated entomologist demanded what that had to do with a scientific fact, he was met by the inimitable retort, " May I remind you, sir, of the beautiful lines in an English poet Who saw him die? I, said the fly, With my little eye." I look back over the many years in which I had HIGHNAM 261 the advantage of Canon Tinling's friendship, and recall true and unswerving kindness. He it was who first invited me to preach in the Cathedral, who offered me preferment when it fell to his turn, and to the last occasion of our meeting was the same cordial sympathiser and companion. His son, George, and I were ordained together to the priest- hood. The death of George Tinling, as still a young man, after a long illness that followed a ministry of overwork, was a great and a lasting sorrow. Canon Evans had been a hero with Oxford undergraduates as a Fellow of his College. In those times athletics occupied a very different position indeed in the eyes of authority from that which they hold to-day. And " Evans of Pem- broke " was on the side of youth. A genial, loyal soul loved in the University and the Cathedral city alike. It was also my happiness to enjoy the friendship of his successor, Dr. Bartholomew Price. He it was who first of Oxford tutors introduced the custom of evening reading with his pupils. He was a man of wide and solid attainments, whose warmth of heart the prolonged wear and tear of routine was powerless to affect. Some time before I became Vicar of Highnam, I was Canon Evans's guest under the following circumstances. The Ballot Act had been passed, 262 OLD TIMES AND NEW and the first Election petition since it had come into operation was to be heard at Gloucester. By the courtesy of the late Sir T. Robinson, I was given a place. The Court was crowded to its last inch. And a splendid legal duel was fought out to the delight of the hearers between Sir Hardinge Giffard (now Earl of Halsbury) on the one side, and the late Serjeant Sargood on the other. I witnessed a most ludicrous scene the second day of the trial. The member petitioned against, and who, by the way, kept his seat, wished to enter the Court. A policeman on duty at the door did not know him, and refused admission. Explanations followed, and, solvuntur risu tabula. Dr. Evans, the famous physician, was no relation of the Canon. He was in his declining years when we came to live in the neighbourhood. But I knew him slightly, and will relate an anecdote he told me of his student days. He was passionately fond of drawing. One day Listen turned over his paper of answers, and found a stag's head sketched on one of the sheets. It may possibly have been furtively done in lecture time, but, be that as it may, Listen saw the power exhibited. He sent for the young man, told him of what use such a talent might be, and gave him to understand that if he would utilise it in a regular and disciplined way, he would find in him a friend. He had the good sense to recognise his opportunity, became Listen's draughtsman and HIGH NAM 263 favourite pupil, and eventually reached an eminence too well known a quarter of a century ago for any words of mine to enhance. Dr. Wesley died just before we settled at Highnam. I only once saw him, namely at the Hereford Festival in 1867. His quaint dress, un- altered from an older style, remains clear in my memory. It was said of him that he once did remonstrate, and that in tears, with his pupils for their noisy behaviour in the Cathedral. He stopped playing, and, coming round the organ asked how they could act as they were doing, when they knew that he was extemporising in the key of seven flats I Let me add one last remembrance before I close this chapter. Dr. Wesley, just before his death, was walking in the nave of the Cathedral listening to the organ at which his own days of skilful work were done. When the player ceased, he said, " That is the man I would have to follow me." The performer was my friend, Dr. Harford Lloyd, now of Eton, and, as all the world knows, he did succeed the composer of " The Wilderness " at Gloucester. CHAPTER XII NORTH WALES VERY many visitors to Penmaenmawr must have noticed the pretty little house on the steep slope over the station, with its exquisitely-kept lawn and garden, called Tudor Lodge. Its owner, too, was well known, and that by divers learned men who came to the rapidly-growing town. The prosecu- tion of some affairs connected with my grand- mother's family brought me years ago into association with Mr. John Atkinson, famous among Welsh antiquarians, and the friendship thus begun continued closely till his still recent death. It cannot frequently be the good fortune of any- one to meet with so interesting a man. His bring- ing up and early life were intimately associated with the coaching days at their highest point of glory, and he was wont to say that so broad a line divided English life and customs at the change to railways, 264 NORTH WALES 265 that it was literally another England that began to be when the old traffic vanished from the roads. His father had been a mail contractor on a very large scale, and was connected with the London and Holyhead service. He came by his death at a comparatively early age in a very sudden and strange way. A travelling acrobat was exhibiting his feats to a number of spectators, of whom the elder Mr. Atkinson was one. The man had per- formed a jump, which seemed to my friend's father a somewhat inferior performance. He bade one of his men bring a board, which he placed in position for a spring, and then proceeded to "take off." Unhappily, in some way he slipped, and sustained such serious injuries as speedily cost him his life. His son was but nineteen years old. The Post Office, however, asked no questions, and so at that early age he took on the Government contract. Mr. Atkinson, therefore, had been familiar with the whole north-western road before a yard of rail was laid. The mail service was brought to an almost incredible perfection at that period. I cannot profess to give the time of the Holyhead coach with absolute accuracy, but I know I am very near the truth when I say that 267 miles were accomplished in twenty-six hours and seventeen minutes, includ- ing all stoppages. And this, as he used to say, for a journey that led them through the Black Country. He might, I think, have fairly added, the Snowdon 266 OLD TIMES AND NEW stages also. The punctuality was simply marvellous, and was in great measure due to the phenomenal rapidity of the changes. When the bugle was heard, four helpers ran out the four fresh horses, while four others were in readiness to unharness the team when it pulled up. In this way the change was got over in forty-five seconds. So exact was the punctuality observed, that the country folk used to set their watches by the mail. My old friend was well known as a whip. This was, of course, long before I became acquainted with him, and before a suffering internal complaint had laid its hand on his powerful frame. To the last he always appended to his signature a loop, representing a four-in-hand whip " caught-up." His writing, I may remark, was of the fine copper-plate character that has vanished with the men of a previous generation. In the fulness of his strength Mr. Atkinson had driven marvellous distances. It had seemed then as though he were equal to any demand. But one day when he spoke of some feat he had performed while the coaches still held their own, a person present expressed a doubt as to his statement. After that he could not be induced to refer to the subject again. As the London and Birmingham line pushed out further from the metropolis, of course the coach journey was correspondingly shortened. But at the very first, I understood from him, the coaches were NORTH WALES 267 duly packed, and run out on trucks to the limit of the line, then, of course, a near one. It was a great day for the North Wales farmers when, in the late forties, the whole length of the line was open. Mr. Atkinson took up the first batch of cattle (his own) from Carnarvonshire to Chalk Farm Station. Just before starting he received an urgent message from a neighbour asking him to oblige by taking his cattle also. Now, Mr. Atkinson was a stockmaster who bestowed the greatest care and attention on his beasts, and they were in splendid condition. By the way, he travelled with them himself on that first journey to the London markets. We may judge, therefore, of his extreme annoyance when he found that he had been completely "let in," and that a most indifferent consignment was left on his hands. However, there was no help for it, and the cattle train duly started. The destination was reached in the early hours of a Sunday morning, a four-wheel cab was fortunately found, and, from old habit's force, I suppose, our friend went off to an inn in the city to get some rest. In the evening he was refreshed, and went out with the intention of attending some place of worship. As he passed along a street, his ear was caught by the sound of some singing, and entering the building whence it came, he found, strange to say, not only a Welsh service in progress, but, stranger still, the pulpit occupied by the very man who had done him over 268 OLD TIMES AND NEW the cattle journey ! I cannot say whether our friend heard the sermon out or not. Before I finally quit the subject of coaches, it will be interesting to insert the recollections of a friend, who has already been quoted in these pages, that typical English gentleman, Mr. W. B. Fortescue, with regard to the celebrated "Telegraph" that ran between Exeter and London, performing the journey in seventeen hours, and even less at the last. He arrived by the much slower vehicle that plied between Dartmouth and Exeter, having arranged to sleep at the latter place, and proceed to town in the morning. His uncle, who resided in the Cathedral city, sought to dissuade him from so hazardous a manner of travelling, but in vain. My friend put up at the famous hostelry, the New London Inn, and having dined went out into the street for a stroll. Noticing that a number of people were all going in one direction, he followed them, and found himself with a little crowd opposite the inn where the " Telegraph " stopped. Presently the chimes went out, and the great bell of the Cathedral had struck the final note of ten o'clock, when the guard's bugle was heard, and before the full - number was sounded, the coach was to the actual minute standing at the door ! The following day, on the up-journey, a very amusing episode occurred. It was the pride of the NORTH WALES 269 coachmen that the up and down coaches should meet at a particular spot, a half-way house. On reaching the stage in which this was timed to take place, there was, through some casualty, no proper change ready. All that could be had was four post- horses with their postilions. There was no help for it, and with this sorry substitute they started, the coachman retaining his place, though deprived for the nonce of his office. On reaching the brow of the hill, at the foot of which was the point of meet- ing, the down " Telegraph " was descried be- ginning the descent on the opposite side. In vain the coachman adjured the riders to quicken their speed. The situation with a coach behind them was a novel one, and they had not sufficient nerve for the spurt. So, failing to produce any effect by verbal remonstrance, the coachman, jealous for his reputation, had recourse to his whip, which he plied to so much purpose that, willy-nilly, the "boys" moved on, and the time was thus narrowly kept. Once, he told me, he had occasion to take the "Quicksilver" at Kew Bridge. He waited at the inn, where he learned from the ostler that he must be alert as the mail was near. Presently he caught the sound of the bugle, and went out. " Can you run up the back stairs, sir ? They won't stop," said the man. " I will throw your bag on to the roof." Then the coach came in sight. The small amount of personal belongings allowed was safely deposited 270 OLD TIMES AND NEW and Mr. Fortescue swung himself up at the back. "You see, sir," the guard explained, "we can't stop, for we must keep the lead." And so indeed they did. Another time he and his brother-in-law, Sir Walter Carew, were going to London by the "Telegraph." It left Exeter at 5 a.m., so they went as far as Ilminster over-night and slept there, to avoid such an early start. True to time the coach drew up at their inn ; Ward was driving, and at once handed the reins to Sir Walter. It was a four-mile stage, and four thoroughbred chestnuts were put in, and at once laid themselves out for a gallop. Ward sat by Sir Walter, and Mr. Fortescue stood behind them, watch in hand Hext, the guard, also taking careful note of the time. A Devonshire farmer who was next Mr. Fortescue was so terrified at the pace that he clutched tightly at his neighbour's arm, and at last amid the clatter and the excitement managed to make an inquiry heard, " Can he drive ? " For sole reply Mr. Fortescue shouted back, " Doesn't he go fast enough for you ? " The stage was done and the watches reported 1 5 minutes ! On reaching town my informant found himself sore and stiff from the grip of his alarmed companion. The next day Ward tried to beat Sir Walter's record, but, alas ! a leader fell and broke his leg. On such coaches as the "Quicksilver" and the NORTH WALES 271 "Telegraph," there were lamps of extraordinary power. The brilliance as the coach flew by did much to avert accidents that might otherwise have easily occurred. My readers may well wonder how amidst the bustle of his life Mr. Atkinson continued to keep up his studies in antiquarian and other depart- ments. The " cognate languages " were a subject to which he gave a great deal of attention. The answer is, that like some others, he was able to I work on an amount of sleep that would be fatally insufficient to the vast majority of men. " I used to steal the night," he said to me once. It is a frightfully dangerous experiment for any but a tiny exception. The result may be predicted with sufficient certainty disaster and death. But there are here and there a few men who can dispense with the usual portion of sleep. Such a person was my very kind friend and connection by marriage, the late Lord Ludlow, in whom we lost a sound judge, and a cultivated country gentleman. He was by build a very powerful man, and by habit inured to very late hours. One thing in his opinion kept him going, and that was his early ride at 8 a.m., which he never failed to take. During the pressure of his working life, he told me he hardly ever had three consecutive hours of sleep. He would wake up, and find it no easy matter to doze off again. 272 OLD TIMES AND NEW Once, after a late division or rather an early one, in the small hours he came home to his house, passed in by his latch-key, and seeing two or three letters on the hall- table, just glanced at their contents, letting the envelopes drop, and then sought his bed, where he immediately fell into a first slumber. Alas ! too short a one. For he found himself the centre of no less than three " bullseyes." He had inadvertently left the front door open, and the vigilant guardians of the peace had followed to see if all was as it should be. "It's all right, Mr. Lopes," reassuringly said the visitors. "How on earth do you know who I am?" he replied. " Well, sir, if a gentleman leaves his letters in the hall, we are not far wrong," rejoined the policeman. And after all it did not need a Sherlock Holmes to arrive at the conclusion. The late Serjeant Merewether told me that in the railway mania of 1847, on the Monday of the last week allowed for the deposit of schemes, he left his bedroom not again to enter it, except for washing and changing his clothes, till the Saturday. He then retired to rest in the course of the after- noon, giving directions that he was not to be dis- turbed. He slept till the Sunday evening, and this prolonged slumber probably saved him from some very grave results of such a sustained tension. He had a happy faculty of snatching a brief repose in the course of business, where he saw a chance. NORTH WALES 273 He would tell his clerk to waken him in ten minutes time, and instantly fall asleep. It was his custom to stay up until all his work was done, and then rest till the latest possible moment in the morning, and he used to contend that this plan was far better than that adopted by his cotemporary, Serjeant Wraugham, who rose at a very early hour to prepare for going into court. But to return to our North Wales friend. Some- times when the pressure was very severe, he would, after paying his men on a Saturday afternoon, ride away into the heart of the mountains, and secure a few hours of solitude amid the grand silence of the everlasting hills, which never failed to refresh him. But he always returned in time to conduct a practice of Church Psalmody in view of the next day's services and this, I believe, at whatever distance some Saturday night might find him from home. Later on, and under different circum- stances, the same devotion was shown by the heir of Margam Abbey, who was wont to travel from London to South Wales with unvarying regularity every week in the Parliamentary Session for the purpose of meeting his choir. Prominent among the alterations effected by the introduction of railways was the change in the old-fashioned inns. Many of them were exceed- ingly comfortable, and the charges were much lower than those which now obtain. Of course, 19 274 OLD TIMES AND NEW a menu (one cannot fancy the word having any- thing to do with an old-world caravanserai) of those days would not suit the taste of modern folk. But the fare was excellent and plentiful. I once asked Mr. Atkinson how it came to be that in many a small place such good port could be obtained in the past generation. He told me that there were many dinner-clubs in the country-sides and lesser towns. The members used to import their own wine and bottle it. And when a club broke up, as in time they did, the wine was purchased and dispersed among the neighbouring houses of enter- tainment. And talking of inns, here are two anecdotes of his, highly characteristic of the times. Towards the close of the coaching epoch, the sub-contract for a certain stage on the north- western road, in the Welsh section, came to its end. And there was great difficulty in renewing it for two reasons one very obvious, the other very strange. The existing contractor could not renew. She was a married woman, and some legal diffi- culty had arisen as to her status, which disqualified her from undertaking the charge. It might have seemed an easy course for the husband to have signed the agreement for his wife, who was landlady of a well-known inn on the road. But this was equally out of the question. He was a clerk in Holy Orders vicar of the parish ! Poor Welsh NORTH WALES 275 Church, who shall be surprised at her troubles, since then so nobly combatted ? One Christmas-time the mail arrived at a famous coaching house in North Wales, and deposited a single visitor. He was a Member of Parliament, who represented an Irish constituency, and on his way to London. But being indisposed he alighted, instead of continuing the long journey. After a while, feeling much better, he ordered his dinner for the evening. Now, it was a very slack time, no company had been expected, and the conse- quence was that the usually well-stocked larder contained a single joint and no more. So the matter was arranged, and all seemed clear. Un- fortunately, later in the day, some foxhunters put in an appearance and demanded to dine. The waiter explained with profound regret that their wish could not be complied with, as the only avail- able provision was already bespoken. His apology was in vain ; the head of the party, a neighbouring magnate, asserting his intention of annexing the joint, and told the unhappy attendant to explain to the visitor the best way he could. Not content with having left the stranger dinnerless, the blustering Nimrod added insult to injury by sending up his gold watch and appendages by the waiter to his room, with an instruction to inquire (in the current slang of the day) if he knew what o'clock it was. The unknown gentleman, on 276 OLD TIMES AND NEW receiving the message, bade the waiter return to the diners, and say that he would come presently and tell them himself. Only waiting to go into his bedroom and fetch a small case from his port- manteau, he proceeded to the dinner party, care- fully concealing the case under his coat, but carry- ing the gold watch in his open hand. His appearance was the signal for a boisterous shout of laughter. When it had subsided, he said very quietly : " Gentlemen, you were polite enough to ask me if I had the right time. I come to answer you myself." Then placing the case on the table, he went on, " My name is I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance." An ominous silence followed this intimation, for there was not a man in the room that did not recognise the name as that of an M.P. who had more than once " had his man out," and whose reputation as a shot was of the greatest. He then approached the chair- man and, tendering him the watch, politely asked him if it was his ? " Certainly not, sir," was the reply, though his pocket had but so lately parted with its valuable contents. The visitor apologised and inquired of the next man, and so of each in turn. All eagerly repudiated any idea of owner- ship, and then the visitor, expressing his great regret for having troubled them through a mis- apprehension, departed with the watch, having read the jokers, it is to be hoped, however much NORTH WALES 277 we may regret the pistols, a lesson in good manners. But Mr. Atkinson's stories were not by any means limited to coaches. And with a last quo- tation from this genial man's repertoire I must bring my recollections of him to a close. During the earlier days of the Church revival a certain dignitary of Bangor took, in union with a lay friend, a strong part in getting rid of the old clumsy, exclusive, and unseemly pews, and substi- tuting, where possible, the open seats which have long ago become universal. At some point, how- ever, in the enterprise the layman abandoned the cause. When next he met his quondam ally, he was received with two emphatic words from a tongue that was always ready and occasionally caustic. They were simply, " Proh pudor ! " The un-forced wit of the rebuke is delightful. Once, on a journey into North Wales, I put up at a hotel In Chester, which happened to be very full. I was asked if I minded two people coming to my table in the coffee-room, as the place was so crowded, and of course I agreed. They were cer- tainly wealthy. Their dinner was on a very different scale from my own, and when their bill was given them the next day, although there was a mistake in it to an amount which few of us would care to lose, they would not cross the hall to the office in order to get it put right. In the course of 278 OLD TIMES AND NEW the meal we talked of the singularly beautiful sur- roundings, and I unfortunately asked if they had identified the place on the walls where John Ingle- sant looked his last over the Flintshire hills. I say unfortunately, for I was met by a blank silence. The lady evidently had never heard of John Inglesant, but her husband made an heroic effort to save the situation. " Oh yes," he said, " I know Ingoldsby ! " Truly, money has its obvious limits. CHAPTER XIII BRISTOL BRISTOL has always, for many years, loomed large in my life. Devonshire born and bred, whenever (to use our Western phrase) we went "up the country " we were bound to pass through Bristol. Young folks who have only known the present vast structure comprising two great systems under a single roof, would find it hard to realise the railway stations (I use the plural purposely) of my child- hood. The original Great Western Railway station was, I believe, the substantial stone building adjoin- ing what is now called Clock Tower Yard. I know, at least, that in a very handsome and, I should think, now a very rare volume, containing a finely illustrated account of the line from Paddington to Bristol, this is shown as the terminus. The date in- dicated by the book would be about 1 842. But when I first travelled as far as the great city of the West, this station was used chiefly by the West Midland 279" 280 OLD TIMES AND NEW line, as it was then called, which connected Bristol and Gloucester. The section of railway below Bristol was called the Bristol and Exeter, and as in the case of, I think, every other station on that now long absorbed system, the only accommodation was of wood. This structure stood at right angles to the other station, and occupied the site where the booking offices are now situated. So when the train from London arrived, it backed into the station to deposit Bristol passengers. There was a sort of curve on the further side of this timber edifice, which was called the " Express platform," and from this the through up-trains, at any rate, were despatched. This would have corresponded very nearly with the corner where the station- master's office now is. And then, to compare the motley array of carriages that made up the express with the splendid " bogies " that have taken their place ! There were Great Western coaches and Bristol and Exeter coaches with their picturesque blue blinds, and South Devon into the bargain, and, in addition, at the very end of the fifties, Cornwall railway coaches also. Now let my readers try to picture a journey from Devonshire to the North. On arriving at the Bristol and Exeter station, and seeing your luggage taken out, the next step was to cross to the West Midland. There was no bridge, and the transit had to be effected over the metals, and in front of the BRISTOL 281 Gloucester engine, hissing its fiercest. Never shall I forget my first experience of it as a small boy. Our nurse conducted my sister and myself over the seemingly perilous way. This was quite bad enough for us children, but what the superadded care of the luggage must have been, of course I know nothing. On arriving at Gloucester every- thing had to be changed again. The West Midland at that time was broad gauge, like the G.W.R. There was a break of gauge, of course, at Glou- cester, and an old number of the Illustrated London News in my possession aptly delineates the unspeak- able confusion of the transfer. There used to be some painted panels in the old, or West Midland station. To my small mind these were awe-inspiring productions, and the impression made by them has never failed. We had always heard wonderful things of St. Mary Redcliffe Church, and on arriving by train, and being at once confronted with such wonders in colour, I immediately associated the two, and thought that Bristol was mysterious and ecclesiastical. The moment I became Curate of Badminton I was officially connected with Bristol. For my licence took in two churches, and one of these was in Bristol, as the other was in Gloucester diocese. So I came under the jurisdiction of two Arch- deacons, and thus made the acquaintance of Mr. Thorpe. Odd enough it seems to us now that the 282 OLD TIMES AND NEW rector of a parish near Tewkesbury should be Arch- deacon of Bristol, but so it was. Those who were present at what I think must have been almost the last of his visitations in Chipping Sodbury Church may recall his action in defending the holy and laborious vicar from aspersions in respect of the work of restoration he had nearly accomplished. He invited the attention of his audience to a " post- reformation rubric," laying great stress on the pre- position, and then turning solemnly round Eastwards, he indicated the seemly surroundings of the sanctuary, adding emphatically, " Chancels shall remain as they have done in times past." At an earlier date I remember a curious scene in the church. The names of the clergy were called over, and there being no response to that of the incumbent of a very small parish who was much given to travelling far, a voice from the congregation replied in loud and well-meant explanatory terms, " He's off, sir!" Another clerical figure long remembered was Canon Barrow. In his days as a city incumbent, Bishop Woodford of Ely had served his first curacy on his nomination. Together they resolved to travel to Leeds, then famous for its newly rebuilt parish church (1841), and also to as many Cathe- drals as they could accomplish for their limited resources. They travelled third class, of course though (as I have already had occasion to remark) BRISTOL 283 to do so in those days meant a huge measure of discomfort. And, in Barrow's words, they " ate bread and smelled the soup." I am afraid to say how much they managed to see for their money. It was, I know, an object-lesson in frugality. Woodford became the first Vicar of St. Mark's, Easton, then separated from Bristol by a full mile of market gardens and the like. He then moved on to St. Saviour's, Coalpit Heath. There he took pupils. One day the father of a lad under his care came to visit his son and his tutor. He alighted at Yate Station, and as he could get no sort of fly, he chartered a rustic who hailed from the new district to carry his bag and show him the way. As they walked along together he thought it a good oppor- tunity to hear something of the man to whose care he had confided his son. So he put some questions, which to his horror were met with the reply, " They be Roman Catholics at Coalpit Heath." But he was reassured before long, for on pressing for an explanation the yokel went on to say, "It be all praying (daily service had, of course, been begun) and cricketing (this was the pupils' doings), but we likes it, however." Woodford's terror of horses must have been largely based on a total ignorance, for the story goes that when as Bishop he was compelled to begin a stable, he informed a friend that he had been advised to buy a horse sixteen feet high. 284 OLD TIMES AND NEW It would be most ungrateful and wrong to let this passing notice go by without adding a word of remembrance of much kindness received from Dr. Woodford, and of full appreciation of his admir- able Episcopate. One of his old Leeds curates used to say that, whenever you went to the Vicar to ask a question, he had always the answer ready for you. Though I knew and greatly respected Arch- deacon Randall, it was with his successor, John Pilkington Norris, that I had most to do. To say that Norris was a good man seems to be a mere trite truism. He was one of the most eminently good and unselfish men I have ever known. He was a fellow of Trinity at the time of his ordination to the Diaconate, and returning from Ely, he deter- mined to forsake his comfortable rooms in College, and to go forth into lodgings and to work as a curate in the town. This was the beginning of that life of unsparing toil in which so much was done for the glory of God and the good of his fellow-men. To him are due two of the greatest facts in the lives of Bristol Churchmen and citizens to-day the restored Bishopric, and the nave of the Cathedral. His old friend Canon Mosely had once spoken with him under the western side of the central tower, and told him how that, in days that were past, a nave had once opened out thence. There was no sort of BRISTOL 285 idea then that N orris would himself become a member of the Chapter, but within a short time this came to pass. It was his earnest remonstrance that hindered the alienation of the ground where Street's fine work now stands, and it was due altogether to his initiative, in conjunction with a layman of unbounded energy and sterling Church principles, Mr. W. K. Wait, that the glorious enterprise was carried through. The western towers are to be credited to the late Dean, under whose auspices the building was thus completed, the generosity of certain donors making it possible to be done. It has now for some years been made known that Norris was the unnamed giver of ; 10,000 towards the re-endowment of the See of Bristol. What years of patient and unceasing labour were bestowed on that noble scheme, those who watched and won- dered alone can tell. He just lived to see the Cathedral more largely used. It was not till nearly six years after he was taken home that a Bishop of the re-constituted Diocese was installed in that Cathedral Choir. Our last meeting was at the Palace at Gloucester, where we were both engaged with the annual gathering of Archdeacons and Rural Deans. It was little more than three months before his death. He asked me to join him in a walk after the Cathedral service, and it was in that final conversa- 286 OLD TIMES AND NEW tion that I heard the account of his ascending Salisbury spire. He carried through this perilous adventure quite alone. I shall never lose the impression made by his description of the passage from the interior, when the long and steep ladders came to an end, through the weather door, out on to the northern face of the spire, hanging between the sky and the earth. From thence to the summit the ascent is made by means of iron cramps or rings fastened into the stone. That same evening he spoke to me of his early remembrances of Archbishop Temple. The future Primate was at one time in charge of Kneller Hall, an institution for the train- ing of schoolmasters. When Norris arrived on his first visit to his friend, he found him, at the head of a digging party, engaged in vigorous garden opera- tions. And one remembers how, in the life of Archbishop Benson, we are told he inaugurated a game of leap-frog to relieve the awkwardness of the assembling of the first draft of pupils at Wellington College. While speaking of famous headmasters, I may mention an incident that took place long ago at Durham in the days of a great scholar, Dr. Edward Elder. A prize was offered for some composition, and to ensure fairness in the award mottoes only were to be appended. I think we shall agree that the boy who selected " roSe /uot Kpfavov 'E.tAStup " deserved the said prize, and I think that he was successful. BRISTOL 287 A great many years have gone by since, on the invitation of Canon Wade, I first preached in Bristol Cathedral. He had done for a long while an excellent work in London when he received the appointment to his stall. It was at St. Anne's, Soho, that the Passion music was first heard in one of our churches. He told me once how very narrowly an awkward contretemps was avoided in his parish. The facts were these : The Bishop of London (Tait) had undertaken to address a con- gregation of men at St. Anne's. The hour came, and the congregation, but there was no sign of the preacher. The Vicar felt certain that there was some mistake somewhere, and sent off a curate in a hansom, with all possible despatch, to inquire at London House in St. James's Square. Meanwhile he went into the church and commenced the service in the doubtful hope that things might come right in the end. Before the conclusion of the Litany and hymns which formed the special arrangement for the occasion, to his immense relief he saw the Diocesan pass within the altar rails. The curate, on arriving at St. James's Square, was admitted to the hall at the very moment that the party in the house were entering the dining-room. A servant gave his message to the Bishop, from whose memory the appointment had wholly slipped away. He immediately left the table, hurried some robes into a bag, and departed in the cab, which had been 288 OLD TIMES AND NEW detained at the door. Thus the situation was saved, and what would have been a very awkward business happily averted. In the days of my early clerical association with Bristol I was told of a strange incident connected with a church then lying well outside the city, but now connected by almost interminable streets and houses I mean Horfield. This church was one of the very few, by the way, where Dr. Pusey was invited to preach, and there sometimes of an after- noon he was to he seen and heard, habited in his academical gown. But the preacher with whom my story is concerned was a very different man Mr. Edward Walford, widely known as a compiler of books of reference. In those days he was a priest of the English Church, and as such had taken duty at Horfield. Long afterwards he wrote to the Rev. H. H. Hardy, who was then Rector, to say that he had left a Bible in the pulpit on the last occasion of his officiating, and he asked, as a sort of desperate chance, whether it could be found. And oddly enough, after so long an interval, it was found, and that too in the pulpit. The incident certainly spoke volumes for the strict carefulness of every one who had to do with the church. It would have been more in accordance, both chronologically and topographically, if I had men- tioned Sir George Prevost in an earlier chapter. But the subject has been left over for these BRISTOL 289 concluding paragraphs, and so far fitly, as it was from Bristol my last visit to Stinchcombe was made. The Archdeacon and I went over for the Feast-Sunday, to preach the two sermons for our venerable friend. He died not long afterwards, at the ripe age of eighty-eight years. He had been from the first associated with the leaders of the Oxford movement, and was part author of Tract 84 on the subject of " Daily Services in Church." He told me, in an early stage of a friendship to which I refer with every expression of gratitude and deep respect, that the custom had been maintained by him, certainly from the thirties, and I am not clear whether it was not even from 1829. Lady Prevost was a sister of Isaac Williams, the theologian and poet, who settled at Stinchcombe in a house adjoining that of his brother-in-law. He was on terms of intimacy with Bishop Wilberforce (who snatched time from his hurried life to visit him) and with Mr. Gladstone. One day, when I was with him, he read me a letter which he had received from the great statesman, and the music of one sentence in it has haunted me ever since. " I long to interpose a space," he wrote, " between the arena and the grave." Assuredly I have seen no sight more beautiful than that of the aged and humble man of heart sitting as the simplest learner in a retreat held by the present Bishop of Lincoln, then Professor of Pastoral Theology. There was a 20 290 OLD TIMES AND NEW delightful custom in his home of the whole house- hold morning and evening repeating together the Apostles' Creed at family prayers. It reminds one of how, in Charles Kingsley's noble story, Amyas Leigh, the sturdy sea-giant, did the like, in the days when Elizabeth was Queen. We may be sure that this touch of the accomplished writer is in strict historical accuracy. I am indebted to a very dear old friend for the following anecdotes : "I remember Sir George telling how in some bad time, when he had dis- tributed rice to his poor people, he had asked a man if he found rice good, and received the reply, ' Well, Sir George, I can't say as I be wrapped up in rice' And this answer to a visitation question, * Is your Vicar of good life and conversation ? ' ' He leads a good life, but has not much conversation about him.' ' Sir George lived not far from Berkeley Castle, by whose occupants, the late Lord and Lady Fitz- hardinge, he was greatly regarded. In the castle there is a private chapel, where matins are daily said by the chaplain. It was a charming survival of old times before our fathers' days to see the two stately hounds accompanying their master to service, and remain in well-ordered stillness by his chair. There never were kindlier hosts than the owners of Berkeley. One night, when I had come as a guest, Lord Fitzhardinge with his usual courtesy con- BRISTOL 291 ducted me to my room, which was in the ancient part of the building. I think I was the only occupant of that particular portion of the castle, and so when he bade me good-night, I was well out of the reach of my fellows. I had slept for some time when I was awakened by a noise, and a door on the further side slowly opened of its own motion! It was sufficiently disconcerting, and I wonder that I was not a great deal more alarmed than I was. The reason, however, was clear enough. It was a blowing autumnal night, and the wind gathering in the narrow passage had forced the door open. Perhaps some such atmo- spherical causes might have accounted for the strange sounds and sights alluded to at Babba- combe in the first chapter of "Times that are New," had we not some reason to believe that other agencies than these were employed. I have been led into this digression, but while speaking of Sir George Prevost the mention of one connected closely with Bristol, and who has but recently passed away, could claim no more fitting place. Mrs. Cornish was the last survivor, so far as my knowledge goes, of the body with which the late Archdeacon (some years her senior) was so intimately connected. On a day of late summer in the beautiful church- yard of St. Mary, Walton, " By the pleasant shore, And in the hearing of the wave," 292 OLD TIMES AND NEW was laid to its last rest all that was mortal of Eleanor Cornish. Many hearts in Bristol went out, at the news of her death, to the Bishop-son in his distant diocese of Grahamstown who loved her so fondly, and who quitted her in her declining days only at the call of supreme duty. Mrs. Cornish was the daughter of Dr. Thomas Monro of Harley Street, and thus a member of a family long and honourably connected with the medical profession. But the name of her brother, Edward Monro, the famous allegorist, will be more widely recognised than any other, however dis- tinguished, among her immediate relations. By her marriage Eleanor Monro became inti- mately associated with that remarkable group of men at Oxford, by whose unceasing labours and saintly lives our Mother Church was awakened to a new life in the realising of her old principles. It was no noveltv that men like Charles Cornish and * his friend Charles Marriott taught. Their appeal was to the primitive in teaching, as their example made consistently for holiness in living. The religion of the Oxford leaders was deep-set, sober, and most eminently unostentatious. The high tradition of the school was maintained un- broken by the old and valued friend now taken from our midst. To the end she was a diligent student of sound theology, the dominating interest of her long life was the cause of the truth and Church of Christ. BRISTOL 293 It was when the catastrophe came, and the voice that for memorable years in St. Mary's had won and enchanted men as never perhaps before or since had ceased to be heard, when men's hearts were sad within them, when dismay and perplexity were on every side, and here and there counsels of despair began ominously to be heard, that the splendid loyalty of John Keble, Edward Pusey, and those that rallied round them became abun- dantly evident. Amongst them, and carried by the course of events into a prominent position, were Charles Cornish and his wife. To him was assigned the tremendous responsibility of taking up the work at Littlemore which the loved leader had relinquished, and there in 1846 the Cornishes repaired. The following year saw the publication in the Library of the Fathers, of "Seventeen Shorter Treatises of St. Augustine," one of the two translators being Charles Cornish. Thus his wife had been in the very focus of the Church revival of our modern history. She had known intimately the men who made the centre of the century for ever famous, she had fully reaped the successes, as she had borne the Chocks and dis- appointments of the movement. Eleanor Cornish was almost, if not quite, as I have said, the last of the group to linger on. In some sort she was truly an historical personage. Her friendship the writer, in common with many others, will ever reckon to 294 OLD TIMES AND NEW be an honour. Her place among those who have known her will never be filled again. The mention of her son as a South African Bishop will lend a special interest to the following facts. I possess some franks of the Bishops of Bristol, before the union of the see with Gloucester. One of them was issued by the noble Bishop Gray, father of a noble son, the late Bishop of Capetown. In the Minor Canons' vestry, which was formerly the Bishop's entry, is a very interesting model of the Palace destroyed in 1831. On it is the following inscription : "The Bishop behaved manfully, the mob were masters of the city, and one of the Minor Canons waited upon him before the hour of service, and represented to him the propriety of postponing it. ' My young friend,' said the Bishop with great good nature, laying his hand upon his shoulder as he spoke, ' there are times in which it is necessary not to shirk danger ; our duty is to be at our post.' The service accordingly was performed as usual, and he himself preached. Before evening closed his palace was burnt to the ground, and the loss which he sustained (besides that of his papers) is estimated at .10,000." (" Southey's Life and Cor- respondence," vol. vi. p. 167.) From grave to gay, and I have done. There is a hospitable institution in Bristol, to which, by the kind courtesy of a trustee, I have been admitted as BRISTOL 295 a guest. Dr. White, the founder of Sion College, had a house in Temple Street, and there every St. Thomas's Day a dinner is given, according to the provisions of his will. It is served on pewter in a delightful old panelled room, and consists of pork cooked in five different ways, roasted veal, and half a baron of beef. These substantial viands are followed by a magnificent pie, in which are exactly ninety-nine apples and one quince or pear, I am not quite sure which it is. The meal is concluded with toasted cheese ; and it is certainly the fault of those entertained if they have not had enough to eat. After dinner the ample remains of the feast are carried down to the occupants of the almshouses which Dr. White's generosity founded, and the old people enjoy a meal of unusual excel- lence. This refuge for the aged is one among many instances of the munificence displayed in the ancient city. That munificence is not only a tradition of the past, it is still in vigorous life, as of late an abundant witness has been borne. A restored Bishopric, a rebuilded nave and a renovated Cathedral choir, a Convalescent Home that means new health and strength for a never-ceasing suc- cession of the poor and the sick such are some of the blessings that the present generation has seen. And so I end my story of the old times, and the recollections of those whom I personally have 296 OLD TIMES AND NEW known, here in Bristol, which we men of Devon, who have our home in it, term the " city of our adoption." Through it lies the highway between the Wales and the West that have contributed so much to the pages which I close. And as I began so must I end, asking the indulgence of the many, my kinsmen and my kindly friends, for a silence which is only maintained because, for my own happiness and that of others, they are still spared to be among us. And I add "Down on your knees And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's love." CHAPTER XIV SUPPLEMENTARY IT was in 1879 that I first saw, in the Temple Church, the remarkable man who in years to come was to be my kindly colleague and my most generous friend. Alfred Ainger even then had the appearance of age, and I well remember the surprise it gave me when, after his appointment to Bristol, I heard Bishop Ellicott describe him as a popular London preacher. I had never then heard a sermon from him, and the first sight, at a distance, of the even then bent figure, and venerable head was not somehow suggestive of vivid and attractive speech. The appearance of old age, curiously at variance with the youthfulness of gesture and expression, was certainly a very notable thing. It must have been, one would think, a unique instance. When, some ten years ago, he went up the Nile, we furnished him with letters of introduction to Lady Waterford, who (it is needless to add) was charmed 297 298 OLD TIMES AND NEW with his society. Shortly afterwards I saw Lady Waterford in London, and asked her how she had liked our friend. To which she replied in terms that may be imagined, but ended with a remark about "the dear old thing." "How old then do you think he is?" was my natural question. "Eighty" was the immediate and confident reply. Ainger was then not more than fifty-eight. I became Canon myself in 1892. He was still then in the habit of taking the July, August, and September residence. We were new arrivals, and did not move away that year in the holiday time, and so it came to pass that we were continually together, and that, out of circum- stances that were quite exceptional, a closer friend- ship grew up than could otherwise have probably been formed. There were, however, certain antecedents in my early home life that would in any case have inclined him in this direction. To Frederick Maurice he was in the habit of attributing to a very great extent the best influences and the highest ideals of his life. And Frederick Maurice had been a loved and honoured guest in my father's house, where his presence forms one of my very first strongly marked memories. Nor did Maurice stand alone in this respect. As I have already said in an earlier chapter, Charles Kingsley and Thomas Hughes were also closely associated with my father's career. But next to Maurice the name of Daniel Macmillan held, I need not say, with Ainger the SUPPLEMENTARY 299 most conspicuous place among that circle of the forties and the fifties. I had a good deal in my favour, then, when I became a member of the same Cathedral body as the Reader of the Temple. I do not recall that he ever told me anything more of his boyhood than the fact that he was an intimate chum of Mr. Charles Dickens, the eminent K.C., and that they used to walk arm and arm together repeating "Pickwick" in alternate passages. He mentioned his having shared in theatricals at the house of the elder Charles Dickens, on which occasion the author himself took a part. In deference to his father's desire, he did his best with the uncongenial study of mathematics, and he was wont in after life to regret the time thus expended. But apart altogether from the reward that could not but attach sooner or later to an act of filial respect, I greatly question whether he really lost anything by what he did. For it is, to say the least, quite arguable that the severity of the mental discipline afforded the bracing that was exactly needed in the pursuits of his later life. He was, as the years went on, a constant guest in my house, and it was my privilege to be often with him, when he became Master, at his delightful home within the precincts of the Temple. It was in the closer relations which thus came to be, that one learned the real value of Alfred Ainger. Never did a domestic life more thoroughly bear the test of 300 OLD TIMES AND NEW observation at close quarters. I think all who shared with me the hospitality of his own hearth will bear me out in saying that it was apart from the world, where he shone in so many ways, that his best side conspicuously came out. One of the greatest charms of his visits was his way of reading aloud, when he was specially well, and inclined that way. No one who ever enjoyed one of these delightful renderings of passages pathetic, or humorous, can ever conceivably forget it. He was deeply interested in the Children's Holiday Fund, and would sometimes gain an adherent by reading something that bore on the subject such, for example, as Mr. Anstey Guthrie's exquisite appeal in the form of a dialogue between two poor London mites on the joys of a visit to the country. For the rest I do not think I need add anything to what I wrote in the Guardian at the time he was taken from us, and which I here append. " It is no light enterprise adequately to pourtray the characteristics of one so many-sided and so richly endowed as the late Master of the Temple. It might well seem, however, to be no ordinary ingratitude if, at least, the endeavour were not made by the present writer, who has no ordinary reason for holding his memory in ever grateful regard. Circumstances brought about an intimate friendship from the first days of mutual association SUPPLEMENTARY 301 at Bristol, and the years that came after have been marked by a kindness that never failed or faltered. Indeed, the feature which was prominent before all else was the warmth and generosity of heart which revealed itself in a multitude of ways, in things both great and small. Thus every day of his life for many years he would never omit to forward the Times to a friend on the Continent, whose life was unenlivened and whose resources were scanty. But it was when a wrong was done to a friend, or any individual within his range of acquaintance was dealt with unjustly, that the impulse of indigna- tion carried him forcibly and far. There are some who will never cease to recall the trenchant reply he addressed to what he deemed a dis- paraging allusion in the press to a former Canon of the Cathedral. And with this chivalrous spirit was united the nicest sense of honour. After the resignation of his stall, the writer took the earliest opportunity of seeing him in London. And he will never forget the earnest tones in which his host spoke what proved to be, alas ! --the last words he would ever hear him say, ' Remember, I have done what was right.' " As a preacher, the charm of voice, its refined quality and exquisite modulation, together with the faultless language, made him invariably attractive even to those who were either not wholly in sym- pathy with the teaching of his sermons or did not 302 OLD TIMES AND NEW move in a like intellectual plane. His ideal of preaching is best given in his own words, read at the recent Church Congress : " ' Only so far as human life has been shown to explain the Bible, and the Bible to explain human life, will a sermon have any convincing power upon those for whom it is composed.' " There was in him the strongest revulsion from a certain class of drama and novel of the day ; their ' pestilent spirit ' (to use a phrase from Ruskin) was wont to call out his righteous re- probation. After a sermon at the Temple on the perils of false art he expressed a hope to the writer that he ' might have brushed some dirty cobwebs away.' "Among his great mental gifts none was perhaps more remarkable than his extraordinary rapidity in grasping the contents of a letter, or a printed page. As in the case of a famous author of the last cen- tury, a glance seemed to suffice, and with this singular quickness was joined a most retentive memory. The readiness of quotations, not only from the better-known, but also from less read writers, must over and over again have struck those who were much in his company. Swift he might be, superficial he never was. He had read very widely indeed, but the critical faculty in no case forsook him. With all his facility, too, he was 5 UPPLEMENTA R Y 303 the most patient of men in his unremitting research for material in his literary work. Each scrap, each relic, each fragment of memory remaining to some survivor of a bygone day all was treasured with a scrupulous care, and found a place in the com- pleted survey, His knowledge of music was in- timate and discriminating. The special field of his study had long been the great German masters. It is interesting to recall an occasion when a ques- tion being raised in a group of experts as to a certain sonata, now seldom heard, after a moment of recollection he sang softly the opening melody. " This is not the moment to record instances of his singular sense of humour. At some other time this may perhaps be attempted. It may suffice simply to say it has often seemed as though the conversation of Sydney Smith was revived in our later time, the wit so fresh, so natural, at once so enjoyable and so enjoyed. The mere joker was a person he could ill endure ; on the other hand : "'How utter the surprise,' he writes of one brilliant instance in Hood's poems, 'and yet how inevitable the simile appears. It is just as if the writer had not foreseen it, as if it had been mere accident, as if he had discovered the coin- cidence rather than arranged it.' " How he loved the Temple, the church, the gardens, the buildings with their wealth of mani- fold associations ! But then with him as a com- 304 OLD TIMES AND NEW panion there was little that could be lifeless or dull. Widely and long he will be missed ; the old familiar spots know him no more. His memory will linger round them, while he himself has ' gone before with the sign of faith, and now does sleep in the sleep of peace.' ' I was once taken by Canon Ainger to spend part of a day with Mr. George Du Maurier. We went for a walk together in the afternoon, and before we parted the artist wrote out for me the pathetic little French poem, " Peu de chose," as a recollection of our meeting. Readers of Romanes' " Thoughts on Religion " will remember the telling force with which the graceful hopelessness (so to term it) of these stanzas is set in juxtaposition with the nobler lines, "The Night has a thousand eyes." One day Canon Ainger had a letter from his friend asking him if Bishops ever wore a moustache, and containing a sketch which I at once recognised as a likeness of Bishop Tucker, of Eastern Equa- torial Africa. He had met him in the train, and sent off the portrait and the inquiry accordingly. I was able, of course, at once to supply the answer. As it happened I met the Bishop immediately afterwards at a drawing-room meeting arranged by Lady Frere, where the story caused much amusement to various people, and in particular the person principally concerned.' S UPPLEMENTA RY 305 I now proceed to set down a few of the very many bright and witty things which I recollect hearing Ainger say. I ought to say at once that amongst them are some two or three the authorship of which he disclaimed. I do not know by whom they were first said, I can only say that they are irresistibly amusing. My daughter owns a remarkably fine black cat. He came to us no one knows whence shortly after I was made Canon, and has ruled the house- hold with a mild, but undoubtedly firm, despotism ever since. His most appropriate name is Sweep. Ainger was devoted to him, and one day suggested the following as his epitaph : " No more shall we have the care or the keep of him, For death has stepped in and made a clean sweep of him" He survives his friend. At a luncheon party one day our host hospitably pressed on us a cheese from Stilton, a present to him from an old curate, now Rector of that parish. It was in a condition which epicures desire. But our friend liked his cheese at an earlier stage, and courteously declined he had, he said, " No wish to take the Stilton hundreds." " What is jingoism ? My country right or wrong." 21 306 OLD TIMES AND NEW "Ninety in the shade!" was his greeting to me, reading the famous Tract XC., on an impossibly hot day of 1893, m the cool recesses of my study. The date should be noted, as a similar remark has since been made. When all London was boarded up with galleries and stages for the Coronation in 1902, he suggested that it was being done Consule Planco. " Dear, dear, dear what a world it is," a car- penter was overheard to say. " Buried my poor wife last week, and now I can't find my gimblet." " 'Our relations are becoming somewhat strained,' as the Grand Inquisitor said when he put his cousin on the rack." " A sweet autumn attic if not an automatic sweet," was his greeting to my bachelor quarters at the Temple, one fine October day. Just at the time that Dr. Buck, now of Harrow, was passing from Wells to Bristol Cathedral, Ainger was staying with us, recovering from in- fluenza. He was lying on the hearthrug in front of the fire (an attitude well known to his friends), when he suddenly started up, and asked, " What is the difference between the Organist of Wells, and SUPPLEMENTARY 307 the Tonic-Sol-fa system ? " As no one could guess, he gave us the answer: "The one is the movable Buck, and the other the movable Do(e)." An omnibus and a four-wheeler collided near Piccadilly Circus, and flowers of rhetoric from the respective drivers ensued. In this the driver of the larger vehicle was decidedly the most emphatic. So much so that the occupant of the cab felt it necessary to let down the glass, and, leaning out, to reprove the aggressor for his language. This latter had concluded his remarks with a pointed inquiry, " What do you come drivin' your old rabbit-hutch into me for?" He listened in polite silence to the remonstrances of the passenger, and then inquired in tones of affected politeness and surprise, " Ello, bunny, is that you?" In reference to a then recent controversy, Ainger described himself as being neither a Leeper, nor a Plymouth brother. A certain well-known ecclesiastic's name being mentioned in regard of a particular church, Ainger expressed his decided disapproval. I ventured to suggest that he was with the congregation a persona grata. " That may be, he replied ; to me he is a nutmeg-grater ! " 308 Asked for his opinion of a clergyman called Negus as a preacher, he replied that he had never heard a sermon from him, but that primd facie he should say that wine and water was better in the pulpit than milk and water discourses. "A chaperone ? When a girl has made a chap her own, she does not need one." Canon Lyttelton used to say it was not a French word at all, but really English, and meant the sharper one. Here is a less known anecdote of the Lambs. After one of her enforced absences Mary Lamb asked her brother, "Charles, how is Hannah More?" To which he replied, with a characteristic stammer, " My dear, she's not a-any more." Her death had taken place during the interval. And now for a Temple incident. Robinson, the refined and scholarly Master of the Temple, one day walking in the gardens, was accosted by a Bencher to whom he apologised for absence of mind, on the ground that he was " nescio quid meditans nugarum." To which with exquisite readiness and perfect accuracy the reply was made : " Certainly, Master, but all your meditations are in the Via Sacra" 3 UPPLEMENTA RY 309 The following stones of the late Sir George Rose are among the many which I heard from Ainger. He was staying at a provincial hotel, and hearing a good deal of noise below him, he asked the waiter what was going on. The man replied that it was the annual dinner of the Pawnbrokers' Association. " Ha ! ha ! " said Sir George, " I thought I heard them pledging one another'' His Vicar, in the earlier days of the Oxford revival, contemplated the restoration of Daily Prayer. He called on Sir George to discuss the matter with him. The latter gently gave him to understand that he and his family were not likely to attend, adding that he had domestic prayers every day, and that in this case as in others, Service at home was good service. And here is a last bon mot belonging to ourselves. When the Dean and Chapter of Bristol abolished the system of "tips," and arranged for a fixed pay- ment of sixpence a person to view the Cathedral, the Archdeacon described the portions that would thus be opened at a uniform rate as "the penetralia." "The six-penny-tralia, if you please," was the quick and quiet rejoinder. Index ADDINGTON, H. (PRIME MINISTER), 43 52 Ainger, Rev. Canon, 297 Angel Inn, The, Oxford, 130 Arthur, Sir George, 23, 24, 26, 28, 29 Arthur, Sarah and John, 5 Atkinson, John, and Coaching Days, 267 BAKER, BARWICK LLOYD, 254 Baldwin, J. L., 217 Beaufort, Duke of, 206 Blomfield, Bishop, 134 Bloxam, Rev. Dr., 141 Blundell's School, 5, 122 Boldero, Rev. H. K., 217 Boyle, Hon. C., 229 Bread Riots of 1847, 91 Bright, Rev. Canon, 173 Bristol Riots of 1831, 130, 256 Brougham, Lord, 191 Brown, Dr. John, 102 Bruce, Rev. Canon, 198 Buckley, Rev. Joseph, 206 Bulley, President, 132, 134, 135 Burdett, Sir F., 54 CAMOYS, LORD, 228 Cape, Dr. Lawson, 229 Carew, Sir W., 270 Carew, Rev. R., 116 Carnarvon, Earl of, 187 Carter, Rev. Canon, 220 Cholmeley, Rev. C. H., 137 Chute, Mr. Chaloner, 143 Clare, Lord, 29 Clarence, H.R.H. Prince William Henry, Duke of, 16, 37 Clarence, H.R.H. Prince Albert Victor, Duke of, 149 Clark, Erving, 100 Clarke, of Bridwell, 124 Cobb, J. F., 114 Coleridge, Lord, 169 Corfe, Dr., 166 Cornish, Rev. Dr., 162 Cornish, Rev. C., 292 Cornish, Mrs., 292 Cricket in the West, 184 Cruger, Mr., 38 DANIEL, THOMAS, 115 Daubeny, Professor, 138 Davidson, Rev. J. P. F., 218 Dedication of St. Job, 123 Denman, Hon. G., 118 Dickinson, F. H., 179 Dining at Magdalen, 133 INDEX Douglas, Lord Francis, 106 Du Maurier, G., 304 Dumourieg, General, 227 EVANS, DR., 262 Evans, Rev. Master, 258-261 Eykyn, Roger, 16 FAYLE, REV. R., 85 Festival of the Three Choirs, 200 Fisher, Rev. Dr., 141 Fitzhardinge, Lord, 290 Fortescue, W. B., 121, 124, 268 Fox, Rt. Hon. C., 47, 49 Foxcroft Jones, Captain, 162 Franks, John, 199 Freeman, E. A., 173 Frere, Sir Bartle, 24 Frere, Lady, 24 GLADSTONE, RT. HON. W. E., 177, 185, 289 Goddard, A., 223 Gore, Ralph, 10 Gore, Mrs., n, 16 Gore, Colonel, n, 16, 59 Grace, Dr. W. G., 216 Gray, Bishop, 21, 294 Grey, Rev. Harry, 79 Griffiths, Archdeacon, 87 Grylls, Rev. Prebendary, 182 HANDLEY, REV. E., 146 Hansard, Rev. S., 158 Harris, Mary, 9 Harris, Robert, Epitaph on, 10 Harris, Rev. Prebendary, 103 Harvey, Rev. Canon, 258 Hastings, Warren, 38, 40, 41 Hawker, John, 6 Hawkins, Provost, 154 I lenry, Bishop of Exeter, 93 Hoppner, artist, 10, II Hughes, Judge, 96, 98 Hyacinthe, Pere, 190 JACOBSON, BISHOP, 154 James, Rev. G., 84 "John Halifax, Gentleman," 19 "Jus suum cuique," 134 KINGSLEY, REV. CHARLES, 97 Kingsley, Mrs., 97 LANGMEAD, PHILIP, 18, 43 Laroche-Jacquelin, 227 Law, Dean, 258 Law, Rev. Robert Vanbrugh, 219 Leith-Hay, Sir Andrew, 36 Leith-Hay, Colonel, 36 Liddon, Rev. Canon, 36, 188 Long, Edwin R.A., 238 Longley, Archbishop, 15 Longley, Miss, 15 Longley, John, Recorder of Rocheste 15 Ludlow, Lord, 271 Lukin, Hon. Mrs., 21 Lukin, Dean, 101 * Lyte, Maxwell, 110 MACKARNESS, BISHOP, 172 Macmillan, Daniel, 98 Manning, Cardinal, 228 March Phillipps, C., 91 Marshall, Emma, 101, 181 Maurice, Rev. F. D., 95 Merewether, Serjeant, 272 Mice and Rats at Magdalen, 131 Myers, Frederick, no NAPOLEON III., EMPEROR, 207 Nelson, Admiral Lord, 17, 57 Neville, Rev. Prebendary, 220 Norris, Archdeacon, 244, 284 OAKES, SIR H., 59 Ollivant, Bishop, 196 Orgy in Torquay, 90 PALMERSTON, VISCOUNT, 118, 57 Parades, Comte de, 4 312 Parry, T. Gambier, 239 Phelips, Mr. , of Montacute, 33 Phillimore, Sir Robert, 225 Phillimore, Rev. Greville, 222 Philpotts, Bishop, 82, 93 Pitt, Rt. Hon. W., 40, 43, 55 Plumptre, Rev. Master, 153 Plumptre, Dean, 153 Powys-Keck, Mrs., 16 Prevost, Sir G., 288, 289 Price, Rev. Master, 261 Price, William Philip, 250 RAYNOR, REV. J., 32 R^gaud, Rev. John, 142 Rtfgaud, General, 142 Remarkable Ghost Stories, 59 Ridsdale, S. O. B., 159 Robartes, Lord and Lady, 180 Routh, President, 142 Russell, Lord John, 121 SATIS HOUSE, ROCHESTER, 15, 16 Sawyer, Robert, 171 Sherbrooke, Sir J., 58, 60, 63, 72 Sheridan, Mr. , 49, 54 1 Smith, Goldwin, 152 Smith, Rt. Hon. W. II., 229 Smith, Albert, 171 Smith, Sydney, 260 Somerset, Granville, 212 Somerset, Rev. Lord William, 204 Stainer, Sir John, 144 Stephens, Dean, 148 INDEX Stephenson, Rev. Treasurer, III Stoodleigh Church, 117 Sumner, Judge, 192 TAIT, ARCHBISHOP, 224 Temple, Archbishop, 124 Tinling, Rev. Canon, 259 Thorpe, Archdeacon, 281 Toogood, J. B., 92 Torrington, Vlth Viscount, 21 Torrington, VHth Viscount, 191 Torrington, Vlllth Viscount, 190 Travelling in 1862, 105 WADE, REV. CANON, 287 Wait, W. Killigrew, 285 " Washy West," 157 Waterford, Marchioness of, 209 Waterloo, Recollections of, 12 Welby, Philip, 143 Wellington, Duke of, 10, 21 Wesley, Dr., 263 White, Rev. Dr., 295 Whiting, Mr., 133 Wilberforce, Bishop, 144 Williams, Dean, 196 Williams, Sir Edmund K., 6 Williams, Rev. Turberville, 7 Wolfe, Rev. Prebendary, 90 Woodcock, Rev. Prebendary, 193 Woodford, Bishop, 282 Wynne, Mr. G. , 4, 5 Wynne, John Arthur, 5 Wynyard, General, 59, 65 TWWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAJi PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON. UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL UBR A 000037196 3