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 jl85 Clark (J. Willis) 2>:eoi 
 
 ' of Cuinb>idge. Memoir, 
 
 portrait, 8vo, 2s 6d 
 
 slrary of the Univ. 
 by A. E. Shipley, 
 1913
 
 JOHN WILLIS CLARK
 
 S<n^- cc^^
 
 (C 
 
 J-" 
 
 A MEMOIR OF 
 
 JOHN WILLIS CLARK 
 
 REGISTRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE 
 AND SOMETIME FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE 
 
 BY 
 
 A. E. SHIPLEY 
 
 MASTER OP'-CIiRIST'S COLLEGE 
 
 " But I despair of being able to set forth the man 
 as he was, with all his vigour of talk and action ,~ 
 his fun and his serionsnc's so strangely blended ; 
 his strong affections and his equally strong dislikes ; 
 and lastly , but by no means least, so much of his 
 language ivill offend most sorely the ears of the 
 present generation." — j. W. C. [vide p. 144). 
 
 LONDON 
 SMITH, ELDER cif CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE 
 
 1913 
 
 [All rights reserved]
 
 Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson &= Co. 
 At the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh
 
 HVNC LIBRVM 
 
 AVGVSTO THEODORO BARTHOLOMEW 
 
 SINE CVIVS AVXILIO NVNQVAM SCRIPTVS ESSET 
 
 IN COMMVNIS AMICITIAE MEMORIAM 
 
 DEDICAVIT AVCTOR
 
 PREFACE 
 
 Some may think that this book should have fallen into the 
 category of those that are privately printed, but the late 
 Registrary had many friends — a milky-way of friends, as one 
 of them wrote — and the publishers felt that it would appeal 
 to a circle wider than that which privately printed books 
 usually reach. 
 
 I have to thank many of J.'s friends for assistance ; with- 
 out their help this book could never have been put together. 
 I have ventured to dedicate this Memoir to Mr. A. T. 
 Bartholomew, whose aid in gathering together material and 
 reducing it to order has immensely lightened my task. I have 
 put his name on the dedication page, although, in my opinion, 
 it should have been on the title page. 
 
 Then I wish especially to thank Professor Henry 
 Jackson, O.M., for his kindness in helping me throughout 
 the last twelve months, by placing at my disposal his know- 
 ledge of J.'s earlier years and his unsurpassed and amazingly 
 accurate recollections of the sixties and seventies of the last 
 century. 
 
 J.'s elder son, Mr. Edward Mellish Clark, has spared no 
 pains in searching for material for this Memoir, in verifying 
 dates, and in many other ways. 
 
 Lord Desart, Sir Harry Wilson, Mr. Lionel Cust, and Mr. 
 A. C. Benson have all of them contributed recollections of J. 
 at diverse periods of his life, and I am grateful to them, and 
 especially grateful to Mr. Walter Pollock, who has written a 
 most informing chapter upon "J.'s Love of the Theatre," a 
 subject I am totally unable even to appreciate. Lady Bonham, 
 the Provost of King's College, and Dr. Guillemard have all 
 given me much assistance and saved me from many a blunder
 
 viii T'reface 
 
 by reading the proofs of the book whilst it was passing through 
 the Press. The Vice-Provost of Eton, the Vice-Provost of 
 King's, Mr. W. Austen Leigh, Mr. G. E. Wherry, F.R.C.S., Mr. 
 G. B. Tatham, Mr. R. Bowes, and Mr. Aldis, the Secretary 
 of the University Library, have helped me in many ways. The 
 names of those who have been kind enough to lend me letters 
 are too numerous to mention — I am grateful to them all. 
 Lastly, I have to thank Mr. G. W. Webb of the University 
 Library for the care he has bestowed on the Index, and Mrs. 
 Dew-Smith for giving me leave to include the photograph of 
 J. taken by her husband. 
 
 I have added to the Memoir proper, a couple of perhaps 
 rather technical Appendices. The first deals with J. as 
 Superintendent of the Museum of Zoology, the second with 
 his work as Secretary to the Museums and Lecture Rooms 
 Syndicate. This latter Appendix I have continued up till 
 midnight of the 31st of December 1912, when the Syndicate 
 ceased to exist, and this continuation I have written of set 
 purpose. So far as I know, since 1886, when J. published the 
 ArchitectiLral History of the University of Cambridge, no one 
 has put together a record of the vast growth of our Science 
 Schools, a growth which has been made possible only by the 
 generous, and at times most unselfish co-operation, of those 
 whose lives are dedicated to what are sometimes called the 
 older studies. 
 
 No Bibliography of J.'s writings has been included, as a 
 very full one has recently appeared in the Catalogue of Books 
 relating to Cambridge bequeathed to the University by John 
 Willis Clark (Cambridge, 1912). 
 
 "And here will I make an end, and, if I have done well 
 and as is fitting the story, it is that which I desired : and if 
 slenderly and meanly, it is that which I could attain unto." 
 
 A. E. SHIPLEY 
 
 Christ's College, Cambridge, 
 May 1013.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 1833-1844 
 J.'s Ancestry, Birth, and Early Years 
 
 PAGE 
 
 • • 
 
 CHAPTER n 
 
 " SIXTY YEARS SINCE " 
 
 J/s Reminiscences ....... 17 
 
 CHAPTER in 
 
 1844-1851 
 
 J. AS A Boy 52 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 1851-1856 
 Foreign Travel and College Life . . . . 76 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 1856-1873 
 J. AS A Bachelor ........ 93 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 1873-1875 
 
 J.'s Marriage . . 113
 
 X Contents 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 1875-1891 
 
 PAGE 
 
 J. IN HIS Prime ........ 124 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 1891-1910 
 
 J. AS Registrary ........ 148 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 J. AS I KNEW Him 210 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 J., BY Some of his Friends . . . . . .218 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 J.'s Love of the Theatre, by Walter Pollock . .231 
 
 APPENDIX I 
 
 J. as Superintendent of the Museum of Zoology . 257 
 
 APPENDIX II 
 
 J. as Secretary to the Museums and Lecture Rooms 
 
 Syndicate ........ 294 
 
 Index 345
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 J. circa 1900 Frontispiece 
 
 From a photograph by Messrs. ScOTT & WILKINSON. 
 
 J. circa 1880 To face p. 130 
 
 From a photograph by A. G. Dew-Smith, M.A. 
 
 Plans of the Old Botanic Garden Site in 
 
 1873 AND IN 1912 After J). 343
 
 JOHN WILLIS CLARK 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 J.'S ANCESTRY, BIRTH, AND EARLY YEARS 
 
 Although by nature J.^ seemed to belong to the south of 
 England, he came of a northern stock. His paternal grand- 
 father, John Clark, M.D. (1744-1805), in his time a well- 
 known medical philanthropist, was born at Roxburgh and 
 educated at Edinburgh, where at first he studied Divinity. 
 Later, however, he turned his attention to Medicine, and 
 at the age of twenty-four became surgeon's mate to the East 
 India Company. From this service he withdrew in 1775, 
 and having proceeded to the M.D. degree at St. Andrews, he 
 settled down to practise in the neighbourhood of Newcastle- 
 upon-Tyne. Here he showed two virtues eminently charac- 
 teristic of his grandson — kindness and a remarkable power 
 of organisation. 
 
 John Clark was the founder of the Newcastle Infirmary, 
 and spent much time and labour in advocating the provision 
 of hospitals for cases of infectious disease. Besides many 
 minor works, his name is remembered by two volumes — 
 Observations on the Diseases in Long Voyages to Hot Countries 
 (1773), and Observations on Fevers^ ^c. (1780). He married 
 Susanna, daughter of Francis Heath. 
 
 ^ When J. W. Clark became a Fellow of Trinity, there happened to be 
 in residence some eight or nine other Dons of the same surname, hence 
 from an early date he was called J, W. to distinguish him from his rather 
 numerous namesakes. Later^ /. W. was further shortened to /. 
 
 A
 
 2 y.'s ^72cestry a7td Early TTears 
 
 J.'s father, William Clark (1788-1869), was the second 
 son of Dr. John Clark. He was born at Newcastle-upon- 
 Tyne, and educated at a private school at Welton in Yorkshire. 
 It is recorded that he was prepared for the University by 
 a Fellow of Trinity, a Mr. Popple, and when he was but 
 sixteen years of age he entered that royal and religious 
 foundation. His early training must have been sound, for 
 he was elected a Scholar of Trinity in 1807, and graduated as 
 seventh Wrangler in 1808. In the same Tripos list Charles 
 James 131omfield, afterwards Bishop of London, appeared as 
 third and Adam Sedgwick as fifth Wrangler. The following 
 year, at the first examination in which they were entitled to 
 compete, both Clark and Blom field were elected to Fellow- 
 ships at Trinity, the former having especially impressed the 
 examiners by a brilliant rendering of a passage of Pindar 
 into English verse. 
 
 Following in his father's footsteps, William Clark began 
 to study medicine, and, as the phrase used to run, " walked 
 the hospitals" in London and studied under the great 
 Abernethy. In July 1813, Lord Byron, probably introduced 
 by a common friend, Scrope Davies, was corresponding with 
 Clark about a projected journey to the East, but this was 
 abandoned. Four months later, Byron again begged for 
 Clark's company on a journey to "the Zuyder Zee, and, if 
 affairs go on well, Germany and even Italy." This was a 
 critical time in the poet's passionate life, and whether, as 
 Mr. C. Knight Watson writes, it was " from fevers abroad 
 or Miss Milbanke at home, the journey projected in company 
 with Dr. Clark never took place." 
 
 During the same year Clark proceeded to the medical 
 qualifications of Medicincv Licentiatus s^ive Practicans in Medt- 
 cinaj but he did not take his M.D. degree until 1827. In 
 1814, owing to the death of Sir Busick Harwood, "the Pro- 
 fessorship of Anatomy became vacant, and Clark came forward 
 as a candidate. He was not elected. His competitors were 
 Woodhouse and Haviland. Ilaviland was elected, the num-
 
 William Clark a7td ^yron 3 
 
 bers being: Haviland, 150; Clark, 135; Woodhouse, 60. 
 The election is memorable from a circumstance in Byron's life, 
 which is related at once imperfectly and incorrectly by Moore. 
 The version I am now about to give was told us by Dr. 
 Clark himself, and is confirmed in every particular by another 
 eye-witness now living. Byron came down to Cambridge 
 on purpose to vote for Clark. He entered the Senate House 
 for that purpose, leaning on the arm of Dr. Edward Daniel 
 Clarke.i ^s goon as the undergraduates in the gallery became 
 conscious of his presence, they greeted him with a volley of 
 enthusiastic cheers — a reception for which Byron's avowed 
 antipathy to Cambridge had scarcely prepared him. He left 
 the building, and shortly afterwards Sir John Cam Hobhouse 
 entered it, exclaiming, ' Well ! I have seen a sight which 
 I could not have believed possible.' He went on to relate 
 that on going out of the Senate House in quest of Byron, 
 he found him in the precincts of the Schools sobbing like a 
 child, so completely had the poet been overcome by the 
 rapturous reception he had met with." ^ 
 
 In 1817 Haviland became Regius Professor of Physic, and 
 Clark and Woodhouse again stood for the Professorship of 
 Anatomy, but the latter withdrew, and on the day of the elec- 
 tion the former was chosen without opposition. In 1818 and 
 1819 Dr. Clark travelled on the Continent with Sir Mark M. 
 Sykes, and the coloured wax models of anatomical prepara- 
 tions which he bought for the University at Florence were 
 for long preserved at the Anatomical School. 
 
 Clark was Professor of Anatomy, not of Human Anatomy, 
 and he interpreted his duties in the liberal spirit already shown 
 by Sir Busick Harwood. Both seasoned the unappetizing 
 dishes of topographical anatomy with physiology, and flavoured 
 
 1 ff 
 
 Stone" Clarke, the traveller, Professor of Miueralog'y, 1808; 
 University Librarian, 1817; to distinguish him from "Bone" Clark, 
 J.'s father, and "Tone" Clarke — i.e. John Clarke, afterwards Clarke- 
 Whitfield, Mus.D., Professor of Music, 1821. 
 
 ^ C. Knight Watson in Mucmillans Magazine, January 1870.
 
 4 y.^s ^7icestry afid Early IT ears 
 
 them with illustrations drawn from the so-called lower animals. 
 Clark took infinite pains in the preparation of his lectures and 
 demonstrations. He was particularly neat in his dissections, 
 and was a master of the comparatively lost art of injecting 
 veins and arteries. From 1814 until 1832 the Museum of 
 Anatomy was housed in a building opposite the entrance to 
 Queens' College, when it was moved to an incomparably ugly 
 building at the corner of Corn Exchange Street and Downing 
 Street. This was the building which, on the night of Monday, 
 2nd December 1833, was attacked by a mob who considered that 
 Dr. Clark had failed to comply with the provisions of the 
 Anatomy Act in the matter of the body of a pauper received 
 for dissection. The building was ransacked, and considerable 
 damage was done ; the Riot Act was read, and many persons 
 were locked up in the Schools for the night. The attack 
 was repulsed largely by the aid of the undergraduates, but 
 I can still see in memory the heavy iron bars which, until 
 the building was demolished (1891), served from the date 
 of that outbreak to protect the doors and windows of the 
 old dissecting room. Throughout all the subsequent inquiries 
 and difficulties, Dr. Clark had the consistent support of Lord 
 Melbourne, then Home Secretary. 
 
 Clark spared himself no effort, and his purse no expense, 
 to increase the Museum ; and it is, in the main, to him that 
 we owe the foundations of the two magnificent collections, 
 the Museum of Zoology and Comparative Anatomy and the 
 Anatomical Museum. He was in fact — though the fact has 
 been often forgotten — both by his teaching and his collecting, 
 one of the founders of the School of Biology at Cambridge. 
 
 During the first half of the nineteenth century the great 
 majority of Fellowships were still restricted to those in Holy 
 Orders. Cl^rk had applied in 1817 for one of the two lay 
 Fellowships at Trinity, but had failed to obtain it. He 
 took orders in 1818, and successively held the small livings of 
 Arrington in Cambridgeshire ; Wymeswold in Leicestershire ; 
 and the valuable rectory of Guiseley, near Leeds (1826). The
 
 Willia7n Clark 5 
 
 latter preferment he held until 1859. Although, after the 
 manner of his time, Dr. Clark was in the main non-resident, 
 spending but a quarter of the year in his incumbency, yet 
 he was in advance of his age in the care he took in helping 
 forward the interests of his successive parishes. He took 
 especial pains in the selection of his curates, and at Guiseley 
 restored the church and the rectory, built the parish schools, 
 and in and out of season showed his constant care for one and 
 all of his parishioners. I think it characteristic of the man 
 that when opinion changed as to non-resident parsons (a 
 change not seldom occurs in the popular mind without those 
 most nearly affected being aware of it), and when the im- 
 portance of residence for a parish clergyman was pointed out 
 to him in 1859, he immediately resigned the living. 
 
 The Natural Sciences Tripos was established in 1848, and 
 the first examination was held in 1851. Dr. Liveing, until 
 lately Professor of Chemistry, was at the head of Class I, and 
 the late Dr. Hort, successively Hulsean and Lady Margaret 
 Professor of Divinity, was second. Dr. Clark took occasion 
 at the establishment of the Tripos to delegate the teaching 
 of Human Anatomy to Dr. (afterwards Sir George Murray) 
 Humphry, and thenceforth he devoted himself to the teaching 
 of the larger subjects of Zoology and Comparative Anatomy. 
 
 For many years, and especially in 1852, before the Uni- 
 versity Commission of that date. Dr. Clark had pressed for 
 the appointment of a Professor of Zoology. When eventually, 
 in 1866, this Chair was established, and most amply filled by 
 the appointment of Alfred Newton, he, thinking it advisable 
 that his own Chair of Anatomy should receive at the same 
 time a new occupant, resigned. The vacant Professorship was 
 wisely and justly given to Dr. G. M. Humphry. 
 
 Although Dr. Clark was, as I have said, a founder of our 
 School of Biology, he published but little, and it must have 
 been his renown as a teacher that led the Royal Society in 
 1836 to elect him a Fellow. His few papers show accuracy 
 of observation, and one of them at least a curious prevision of
 
 6 y.^s tA7icest7y and Early ITears 
 
 certain views on embryology which have but lately come again 
 to the fore. He issued, at the age of sixty-eight, his trans- 
 lation of Van der Hoeven's Hand-hook of Zoology, in two 
 volumes (1856-58). This is a work not only of erudition but 
 of bulk ; further, its translator had to learn Dutch before he 
 could put it into English — a remarkable performance for a 
 man nearing seventy. 
 
 In a letter addressed to one of his god-daughters, 20th 
 March 18G4, Professor Sedgwick, writing from Cambridge, 
 says : " Dr. Clark is still here, but he has become feeble, and is 
 very seldom seen. Last year he had a stroke of paralysis, 
 from which, however, he is wonderfully recovered, and his 
 mind is quite entire and bright." He aged rapidly, however, 
 and was for a time a little odd. Mrs. Clark nursed him with the 
 greatest care, and for three years before his death did not leave 
 Cambridge for a single day. He died 15th September 1869. 
 
 Professor and Mrs. Clark were both very hospitably in- 
 clined. They gave numerous and rather lavish dinner parties, 
 where the Professor was the life and soul of the entertainment, 
 but he was curiously averse from his son enjoying the com- 
 panionship of those of his own age. Consequently, J. was, to 
 use his own words, a " milksop," and when he went to Eton 
 derived comparatively little advantage from the school, and 
 as a schoolboy never really liked it. I have had the privilege 
 of talking to a few — now a very few — of those who knew Dr. 
 William Clark. A very old friend of mine said to me the 
 other day, " I'm so old that my friends have ceased dying," 
 and there are not now many left who knew William Clark. 
 But from what thev have told me, and from what I can 
 gather from his portrait and bust, he was a man something of 
 this mould : rather stately, dignified, of a fine presence, very 
 much the gentleman — muy caballero as they say in Spain — 
 very courteous, very simple, very modest, as our grandfathers 
 were, perhaps a little distant, a little reserved ; a man who 
 would from his traininfj and his surroundings have been some- 
 what shocked at the free and easy manners of to-day ; not at
 
 Fra7icis Willis 7 
 
 all opposed to change — eager indeed to effect change if change 
 were in the right direction ; very anxious that the teaching and 
 the organisation of the University should be efficient ; a man 
 with, up to his lights, a very strong sense of duty. I feel sure 
 he wore a beautiful white cambric stock, wound again and 
 again round a high collar and tied behind. One of my earliest 
 recollections, as a child of five, is of watching the winding 
 of such a fabric around and around my grandfather's neck. 
 The ceremony was, at that remote date, to me as impressive 
 as a religious service. 
 
 Here I must cease as to what I can guess of William Clark's 
 character, but, in telling me about him, the few who knew him 
 have dwelt always on his amazing kindness, his geniality, his 
 smile which " was sunshine," when once one had pierced a 
 certain stiff'ness of manner. One who knew him well tells us 
 that " those who knew him longest loved him most." At any 
 rate he gave us J. 
 
 On his mother's side J. was descended from John Willis, 
 one of the vicars of Lincoln Cathedral, who married 
 Genevra, daughter of James Darling, of Oxford. Their third 
 son, Francis Willis (1718-1807), was educated at Oxford, and 
 eventually became Fellow and Vice-Principal of Brasenose 
 College. He took Holy Orders, but Francis Willis was always 
 more of a doctor than a divine, and he enthusiastically studied 
 medicine. In the year 1749 he married Mary, daughter of 
 the Rev. John Curtois, and shortly afterwards established 
 himself at Dunston in Lincolnshire, his wife's country. Here 
 he is said to have practised medicine without being duly 
 " qualified," but in 1759 his University conferred on him the 
 degrees of M.B. and M.D. Still, it seems that he had broken 
 the rules of medical etiquette, and when, at the end of 1788, 
 he was called in to treat George HI during; his second attack ^ 
 of madness, he encountered great opposition from the regular 
 physicians. Nevertheless, taking an optimistic view of the 
 
 ^ There had been a previous attack in 1765, when His Majesty was 
 twenty-seven years old.
 
 8 y.'s ^7icestry and Early IT ears 
 
 case, and insisting that the King should be treated more gently 
 and allowed greater freedom, he soon became a great favourite 
 at Court. Hannah More's description of him as "the very 
 image of simplicity, quite a good, plain, old-fashioned country 
 parson," sets him before us. 
 
 " He was much patronised by the higher classes, and for 
 fifty-eight years he had never less than thirty patients under 
 his care. He was at this time (1788) seventy years old, but 
 ' seemed to be exempt from all the infirmities of old age, 
 and his countenance, which was very interesting, blended 
 intelligence with an expression of placid self-possession." ^ 
 Miss Burney describes him as ' a man of ten thousand ; 
 open, honest, dauntless, light-hearted, innocent, and high- 
 minded.'' He joined the corps of Royal Physicians on 
 6th December 1788, and took up his quarters in the Palace. 
 In the consultation which settled their respective functions, 
 Willis was to have charge of all the domestic and strictly 
 moral management — in accordance, however, with such general 
 views as had been agreed upon. The medical treatment was 
 arranged in the morning consultation, and it was understood 
 that Willis was to take no decisive measure, either medical 
 or moral, not previously discussed and permitted. . . . Willis 
 was soon joined by his son John, whose particular function 
 seems not to have been very definitely settled." "^ 
 
 The political importance of the King's illness was great. 
 Whilst the Whig-s wished the Regent — the Prince of Wales 
 — to exercise the prerogatives of a reigning monarch, the 
 existing Ministry sought to limit and restrict his powers. 
 Both Houses appointed Committees to examine the doctors 
 from time to time as to the progress of the malady. 
 
 "Willis, who always professed to be quite sure of the 
 King's recovery, and was high in the estimation of 
 the Tory party, inspired the administration with confidence 
 
 ' ^V^raxall's Posthumous Memoirs, p. 447. 
 
 - The Insanitji of King George III., by Dr. Ray, Utica, N.Y., U.S.A., 
 reprinted from tlie American Journal of Insunity, 1865.
 
 Francis Willis and George III 9 
 
 in the policy they had adopted. Every occurrence at Kew 
 was whispered about in political circles, before it was many 
 hours old — coloured and exaggerated, of course, by the pre- 
 valent hopes and fears. The names of Warren and Willis 
 became as familiar as household words, and even served as 
 rallying points for the two great parties that divided the 
 country. In less than a month from the first examination, 
 both parties were equally ready for another, and equally 
 confident of deriving political capital from the result." 
 
 Complaints were made that Willis allowed the King to 
 read King Lear — a play the Doctor confessed he was un- 
 acquainted with — and to shave himself with an ordinary 
 razor. 
 
 " There is a traditionary anecdote connected with this razor 
 scene, strongly illustrative, if true, of Willis's character. 
 Burke asked him, it is said, what he would have done, if 
 the King had suddenly become violent while these instru- 
 ments were in his hand. Having placed the candles between 
 them, he replied, ' There, sir, by the eye ! I should have 
 looked at him tlms^ sir — thus!'' Whereupon Burke instan- 
 taneously averted his head and made no reply. 
 
 " Among the gossip of the day was a similar story 
 respecting the effect of Willis's tone on Sheridan when 
 about to examine him. 'Pray, sir, before you begin,' said 
 Willis, ' be so good as to snufF the candles, that we may 
 see clear, for I always like to see the face of the man I am 
 speaking to.' Sheridan was so confounded at this speech of 
 the basilisk Doctor, that he could not get on in his exami- 
 nation, and for once in his life he was posed. 
 
 " In the practical knowledge of insanity, and the manage- 
 ment of the insane, Willis was unquestionably in advance 
 of his associates; but, following the bent of his dictatorial 
 habits, he often spoke without measuring his words, and often 
 overstepped the limits of professional etiquette.^ Hence 
 he suffered under the severe handling of the Committee, to 
 
 ^ J. owed something to his great-grandfather.
 
 lo y,''s ^7tcestry and Early Tears 
 
 whom he presented a good many vuhierable points of 
 attack. 
 
 " WilHs was rewarded by Parliament with a pension of 
 dt^lSOO for twenty-one years. He was shortly after employed 
 to treat the Queen of Portugal, but she proved to be in- 
 curable. For this service he received c^'SOjOOO. These fees 
 are without a parallel in the records of the medical pro- 
 fession. Dr. John Willis received for his services £Q50 per 
 year during his life." 
 
 The fifth and youngest son of Francis Willis was Robert 
 Darling Willis (1760-1831), J.'s grandfather. Like his father, 
 and like John, his eldest brother, Robert Darling was a 
 doctor; he became Physician-in-ordinary to the King, and 
 attended him during his third attack of madness in 1801. 
 To him and to his two colleagues, Dr. Heberden and Dr. 
 Matthew Baillie, the well-known epigram applies : — 
 
 The Kin^ employs three Doctors daily — 
 
 Willis^ Heberden, and Baillie, 
 
 All extremely clever men 
 
 Baillie, Willis, Heberden, 
 
 But doubtful which most sure to kill is 
 
 Baillie, Heberden, or Willis. 
 
 Robert Darling Willis was the father not only of Mary 
 Willis, afterwards Mrs. William Clark, but of Robert Willis 
 (1800-1875), a man of remarkable energy, extraordinary versa- 
 tility, and great ingenuity. He had invented successful patents 
 before he entered Caius College, where he was educated, and 
 of which House he became a Fellow. In 1837 Robert Willis 
 succeeded Parish as Jacksonian Professor of Natural and 
 Experimental Philosophy. This professorship had, in some 
 mysterious manner, become allotted to the subject of Applied 
 Mechanics, in spite of the specified wishes of the Rev. Richard 
 Jackson in his will of 1775, for while he left posterity a 
 certain discretion in the application of his endowment, it was 
 his " serious request that the said Lecturer will in this Dis- 
 quisition have an eye more particularly to that opprobrium
 
 ^T{obert Willis 
 
 1 1 
 
 medicorum called the gout, both in getting a better history of 
 the disorder itself, and the symptoms preceding, attending, and 
 following it, than is extant at present : also of the best method 
 of procrastinating the fits from coming by the use of diet and 
 the other non-naturals : and in finding a medicine that may 
 cure it (of which I have no doubt from the goodness of God 
 that a discovery may be made)." 
 
 Robert Willis may almost be said to have started a new 
 era in combining the study of practical architecture with 
 historical and antiquarian research. His skill as a mechani- 
 cian made him a master of structure, and his amazing 
 acquisitiveness enabled him to achieve a thorough know- 
 ledge of mediaeval handwritino;s and the other obscurities of 
 early MSS. His Architectural History of the Conventual 
 Buildings of the Monastery of Christ Church, Canterbury 
 (1869), was the last and the greatest of his many published 
 works, for he left unfinished the Architectural History of 
 the University and Colleges of Cambridge. The piety of 
 his nephew finished this monumental work (1886) ; and when 
 I first knew J. its four volumes were drawing to completion. 
 He always alluded to it in an affectionate manner as either 
 his " Immortal Pub.," or " Magnum Opus," or " M.O." 
 for short. 
 
 J.'s mother kept a diary. Not at all the sort of thing 
 in which social small talk and the expression of the 
 emotions were recorded. Each volume of the diary was of 
 pocket size, and no entry overlaps its allotted space. This 
 diary has been invaluable as a register of dates, but not very 
 helpful in recalling those things that " slope to the sunny side 
 of life." As was the custom of the time, Mrs. Clark's brother 
 Robert, the Fellow of Gonville and Caius, was ordained Deacon 
 and Priest in 1827, and apparently in the earlier half of the year, 
 for, on the 30th of July 1827, Mrs. Clark enters in her diary, 
 "Married by Robert Willis to Rev. William Clark, M.D., 
 Professor of Anatomy in the University of Cambridge." No 
 more and no less.
 
 12 y.'s Ancestry and Early Tears 
 
 I only knew Mrs. Clark when she was well advanced in 
 years, and she struck me — a rather shy undergraduate — as a 
 somewhat terrifying but really kind old lady, stately, accustomed 
 to have her own way, and very formidable if she did not get it. 
 I can't quite remember now how it was that in the early eighties 
 I fell into the habit of going to Scroope House three or four 
 times a term to play backgammon with her. I was then, and 
 am now, simply hopeless at every kind of game. I could rattle 
 the dice and move the draughts in a vague way, but never could 
 I remember how to set the board. My plan was to watch my 
 opponent place piece after piece in the allotted places, and then 
 to set my own in corresponding positions, but one day my 
 ignorance was detected, and I felt how low I had fallen in my 
 opponent's opinion. Still she liked her game, even with a 
 duffer, and I was suffered to go on playing. 
 
 Old Mrs. Clark had a certain look of motherhood in her, 
 and without being precisely handsome or beautiful, when you 
 were in the same room with her, you felt you were with a 
 "presence."" She belonged to a generation when the Heads 
 of Houses and the Professors lived on Olympian heights, and 
 talked and dined in corresponding altitudes. I think she 
 must have been a little bit like Miss Betsy Trotwood, blended 
 with the better qualities of Carlyle's mother, and perhaps the 
 worst of Mrs. Proudie. 
 
 The entries in her diary have all the economy and direct- 
 ness of the meteorologist's weather reports. On the 26th of 
 July 1832, she records " Robert married " ; we are not even told 
 to whom, but the Dict'ionarij of National Biography tells us it 
 was to Mary Anne, daughter of Charles Humfrey, of Cam- 
 bridge. Mrs. Clark had a strong liking for travel, and a real 
 appreciation for art and for architecture, and above all for the 
 theatre. She possessed in a marked degree a sense of form, 
 and was a very accomplished modeller. Not only did she efllect 
 wonders in imitating flowers and fruits in thin films of wax 
 — an almost lost and certainly discredited art — and in moulded 
 leather, but she made many anatomical and embryological models
 
 yjs IBirth and Infancy 13 
 
 which were of real help to her husband's pupils. She was a 
 lady of strong views, and she expressed them. I have a fancy 
 she was not an easy mistress, at least with the under-servants, 
 and I feel convinced that she allowed no wasteful expenditure 
 in the hospitable house she looked after so well. I know she 
 could "blaze out," and although I was not born at the time, I 
 am still thankful that I was not present when, on 1st November 
 1853, she " called on Mrs. H to forbid her the house." 
 
 I do not know where the Clarks lived when first they 
 married. There is an entry in Mrs. Clark's diary on the 
 2nd of November 1829, " Slept in Trumpington Street." 
 This looks as if they had just moved in, or maybe they had 
 returned that day from the Rectory at Guiseley. The house 
 they " slept in " is that now occupied by Dr. Roderick, 
 and numbered 17. Here, in what is at present the drawing- 
 room, J. was born on the 24th June 1833. On the 3rd of 
 September we read, "John Willis christened at 2 at Bene't 
 Church," No. 17 Trumpington Street being in that parish. 
 On the 10th of October " Vaccinated baby " ; a week later 
 " Shortened little John " ; on the 23rd of November " Began 
 to feed little John with tops and bottoms." " Tops and 
 bottoms ! " I wonder if they use them now ; the very name 
 carries me back to a nursery of forty-five years ago. On the 
 17th of April 1834, " Little John cut his first tooth " ; a week 
 later " Little John had four teeth," and on the following day 
 't Cut the fifth." On the 17th of July, when he was barely on 
 the shady side of twelve months, " Little John ran alone." 
 The whole career strikes me as very rapid, but J. was never 
 one who wasted time. However, I cannot pretend to be an 
 expert on such matters. 
 
 At the beginning of the October Term, 1835, the Clarks 
 moved into the pleasant Georgian house, now the home of the 
 Girls' Friendly Society, lying just south of the Roman Catholic 
 Church at Hyde Park Corner. This was Wanstead House, 
 so called from having been built and furnished with much of 
 the material (especially the beautiful carved fireplaces and
 
 14 J/^.'j" ^Ancestry and Early Years 
 
 mantels) from the original Wanstead House in Essex. It 
 had been occupied by the Rev. Temple Chevallier (1794- 
 1873), a well-known mathematician and astronomer, who was 
 leaving Cambridge to become Professor of Mathematics at 
 Durham University. They did not, however, remain long 
 here. Towards the end of 1837, we find Mrs. Clark busy in 
 copying the " plans of the ground upon which our house is to 
 be built," and " the plan of our house from Mr. Walters," and 
 on the 20th of November, " Dr. Clark laid the first brick of 
 Scroope House," a house destined for three-quarters of a 
 century to be the centre of a liberal and refined hospitality, 
 and to be a second home to generation after generation of 
 Cambridge undergraduates. 
 
 They first slept in Scroope House on the 6th of October 
 1838.^ Whilst it was being built, the education of " Little 
 John," who now becomes " Johnny " in his mother*'s diary, 
 was by no means neglected. He had seen in the house in Hills 
 Road " the gas-lamps lighted " for the first time — gas was 
 evidently a novelty in 1836 ; ^ he had fallen out of his crib ; 
 before he was four he had attended the service at King"'s 
 College Chapel, and had visited the Anatomical School, the 
 Botanic Garden, Christ's College Lodge, and the swans at 
 St. John''s. 
 
 J. had more than one brother. Only one of them, however, 
 lived for more than a few hours, and he died an infant at 
 Cambridge when his parents were absent at Guiseley. Hence 
 J.''s life as a boy was that of an only son ; hence also he lived 
 more with his parents than would have been the case had the 
 nursery been crowded. He once told me of the tedium he 
 endured after the mid-afternoon dinner, when he and his 
 mother were expected to sit still for a couple of hours or more 
 whilst Dr. Clark read the Times, or " closing his eyes, indulged 
 in deep thought." Mrs, Clark could noiselessly knit or quietly 
 
 ^ Professor Ilaviland succeeded them at 17 Trumpiugton Street. 
 - The records of the Cambridge Gas Company show that gas was fitted 
 for Dr. William Clark on the Hills Road iu February 183G,
 
 y.'s Early Years 15 
 
 model, but think of J. at eight or ten having to sit " melancholy 
 as a gib cat,"" and at an age when dinner makes you want to 
 get up and jump about ! 
 
 It would be idle to dwell longer on the concise brevity of 
 Mrs. Clark"'s entries in the diary about " Johnny." He had 
 the usual vicissitudes of small boys: his ailments not unattended 
 by leeches, his fall oft' his pony, his loss of his first tooth, his 
 first lesson in Latin — he had two first lessons in Latin — his 
 first lesson in dancing, which took place in the Lodge of 
 Corpus Christi College, and in fencing — all are duly recorded. 
 
 In 1842, when he was nine years old, they all went abroad, 
 and from the middle of July until the middle of September 
 toured through Belgium, the Rhine Provinces, and the north- 
 east corner of France. Two years later they were again in 
 Boulocrne. J. attended school for a short time there, but 
 in later life could recall nothing about it. 
 
 One of the few who remember J. at this period of his life 
 recalls the fact that he was " a boy with long yellow hair over 
 his shoulders. He was much spoiled by his parents, especially 
 by his mother, and was therefore a little of a nuisance. He 
 used to come down into the dining-room after dinner, and got 
 into the habit of slapping the ladies' shoulders as he passed 
 behind their chairs. One day he was doing so, and when he 
 came past my chair I boxed his ears, telling him to behave 
 himself. This naturally produced a scene and tears from the 
 mother and child : fortunately for me, the Professor interfered 
 and said I had done right. Ever after the boy treated me 
 with considerable respect." 
 
 An entry in Mrs. Clark's diary on the 2nd of March 1846, 
 " Went with Johnny to see Genl. Tom Thumb," recalls one of 
 the most celebrated Town and Gown rows of the nineteenth 
 century. This has been described by J. in Cambridge : Brie/ 
 Historical and Descriptive Notes (1881). 
 
 " In March 1846, an American dwarf called General 
 Tom Thumb was exhibited in Cambridge. He was shown 
 in the morning for half-a- crown, and in the evening for one
 
 1 6 y.^s ^72cestry and Early Years 
 
 shilling, the latter exhibition being intended for the towns- 
 people, the former for members of the University, who are 
 popularly believed in Cambridge to be the possessors of 
 boundless wealth. But even as that ingenious contriver of a 
 hen-house, who made a large door for the hens and a small 
 door for the chickens, found that all the birds preferred to use 
 the larger one, so did the promoter of this exhibition behold 
 his room empty in the morning, and crowded in the evening, 
 not with shopkeepers, but with undergraduates. What great 
 events from little causes spring ! The burghers, indignant at 
 what they regarded as an invasion of their rights, hustled the 
 undergraduates, the undergraduates hustled the burghers ; the 
 fight, from a skirmish on the first night, became a battle 
 on the second, and on the third a deliberately organised trial 
 of strength between the opposing forces. It ended in a com- 
 plete defeat of the undergraduates; indeed, we have heard 
 that they turned tail and run away, but this we regard as 
 a base calumny. The weight of the other side, aided by the 
 truncheons of the police, probably decided the fortunes of the 
 day ; anyhow, the gownsmen fled through Rose Crescent into 
 Trinity Street, hotly pursued. When they reached Trinity 
 College, the great gate was opened to admit them — by that 
 time a disordered and grievously wounded mass of men be- 
 longing to various colleges — and there they passed the night, 
 uncomfortable but safe."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 J.'S REMINISCENCES 
 
 When J. was a boy — a very observant boy with a very retentive 
 memory — society at the University consisted of two classes ; the 
 Heads, and the other members of the University. A few privi- 
 leged professors were allowed occasionally to mingle with the 
 seventeen oligarchs who in those times governed it, but their 
 position is truly represented by the phrase " allowed to come 
 in to dessert." The undergraduate was as nobody. "You 
 ought to remember, sir, the immeasurable distance that exists 
 between an undergraduate and the Master of his College," said 
 Dr. Mansel, Master of Trinity from 1798 to 1820, to some un- 
 happy human being who had ventured to accost him. "All 
 communications to the Master are to be addressed through the 
 College Tutor," another Master of the same college said to a 
 junior member of Trinity who had the temerity to remark that 
 the day was wet when taking shelter from a rain-storm under 
 the same archway with the Head of his House. At the 
 beginning of the nineteenth century the exclusiveness was 
 not so great ; Dr. Mansel, quoted above, gave evening parties, 
 but Dr. Mansel had six unmarried daughters. " What do you 
 talk about in your society, is it amusing?" said the wife of 
 a Head to the wife of a Professor in 1819. It must have been 
 a personal experience which J. relates when he records that 
 "the only son of the host was not allowed to dine at his 
 father's own table because, forsooth, the Master of his college 
 was expected there as a guest." 
 
 At the time Mrs. William Clark married, there were but 
 few married ladies in the University. She knew but one, Mrs. 
 A , the wife of the Head of one of the two Colleges nearest 
 
 to their home. This lady had, I believe, been at the same school 
 
 17 „
 
 I 8 y's T{emt7tisce7ices 
 
 with J.'s mother. As a young bride Mrs. Clark was naturally 
 in considerable awe of the formidable society into which she 
 
 was to be introduced, and trusted to Mrs. A for a friendly 
 
 welcome. To her dismay Mrs. A and the wives of the 
 
 other Heads of Houses completely ignored her. Except for 
 the kindly calls of a few " obscure graduates " she was left 
 severely alone. After weeks of solitude she one day caught 
 
 sight of Mrs. A on the other side of Trumpington Street. 
 
 Mrs. A was passing her without any sign of recognition, 
 
 but suddenly halted, looked up and down the street to see if 
 she were observed, and then darting across the road, said : " My 
 dear, Fm so sorry I can't call upon you ; the wives of Heads 
 only call on Heads' wives." 
 
 Things, however, began to improve. Mr. Serjeant Frere 
 had been elected in 1812 to the Mastership of Downing, and 
 having spent most of his life in London, he and his musical 
 and charming wife were ignorant or oblivious of the cast-iron 
 restrictions of their position. They, like S. Mansel, gave 
 evening parties. I remember seeing an old diary of Lady 
 Affleck, wife of Dr. Whewell, in which she recorded that the 
 Freres had entertained a company of "Heads "at dinner ; "some 
 people came in in the evening, but of course we went away." 
 
 This state of things was, however, passing, and the charm 
 and hospitality of Dr. Clark and his wife speeded its passing. I 
 had at first intended to abstract J.'s Reminiscences, or at least 
 to abridge them, but on re-reading they seem to me so admir- 
 able, so full of knowledge of the " days of peace," as J. was 
 fond of calling a past which few can remember, and so well 
 expressed, that I have reprinted them almost at full length.^ 
 They begin, it is true, with picturing a Cambridge some years 
 before his birth, but he heard of it at first-hand from his 
 parents, and it would be impossible and inadvisable to attempt 
 to disentangle it from the Cambridge he himself knew and 
 loved. As the late Mr. Pierpont jMorgan said, " You cannot 
 unscramble an egg." 
 
 ^ M'^itli the permission of the Proprietors of the Cambridge Review.
 
 Cambridge in 1^20 19 
 
 Let me explain, before I write a line of what will probably be 
 called " My Reminiscences,"" that in the space allotted to me, 
 and the time at my disposal, I cannot do more than make a 
 few notes about a state of things which has vanished as com- 
 pletely as the Ruffs and Reeves from our pastures, and the Big 
 Copper butterflies from the neighbourhood of the equally 
 extinct Whittlesea Mere, 
 
 And now, before I call up from the shades those who are 
 to play their parts in my drama — or shall I say my comedy ? — 
 let me set the scene, let me try to point out how different 
 the town of Cambridge, in, let us say, 1820, was from the 
 same place to-day. Imagine a freshman arriving in a coach 
 or a post-chaise by the London Road. The road itself has 
 been but little altered. The houses did not begin till " Spital 
 End" — the name given to the corner by Downing Terrace, 
 from the Almshouses called Hospital of St. Anthony and St. 
 Eligius, which then stood there. Thence, on the right, were 
 houses without interruption, as at present; but on the left 
 after passing Love Lane, now Coe Fen Lane, was an open 
 space called Gravel Pit Close, succeeded by a house standing 
 in a field so large that it might almost be called a park. The 
 house. Grove Lodge, is there still, unaltered ; but the park 
 with its trees, which made a pleasant shade along the road 
 opposite to Addenbrooke's Hospital, then a small building in 
 a large garden, have long since disappeared. The last elm 
 went down in a violent gale in October 1881. Next, where 
 the Fitzwilliam Museum now stands, was a row of mean houses 
 and shops, the destruction of which is one of my earliest recol- 
 lections. Peterhouse is not much altered, except that in those 
 days it was bounded next to the street by a high wall, which 
 secured privacy at the cost of light and air. The watercourse 
 ran down the street as at present, but in a single stream in 
 the middle of the roadway, thereby causing much interruption
 
 20 yjs ^T{ejni 
 
 ejmniscerices 
 
 to traffic. Between the corners of Mill Lane and Pembroke 
 Street — where in old days there was a bridge over the 
 King's Ditch, and a gate called Trumpington Gate, the town 
 proper was entered. From this point the houses became loftier 
 and more tightly packed, and the street far narrower, the 
 usual contrast in fact between a suburb and a town. Where 
 the Pitt Press now stands, a famous hostelry, " The Cardinal's 
 Cap," invited the attention of travellers. From this inn, as 
 far as Great St. Mary's Church, the street was bounded on both 
 sides by nothing better than shops and houses, with the 
 exception of St. Botolph's Church on the right, and St. Catha- 
 rine's Hall, as it was then called, on the left. This colleire 
 had wisely replaced worthy Thomas Hobson's stable-yard by 
 a grove of elms ; but Corpus Christi College did not get its 
 new quadrangle until 18^5, and King's College did not 
 throw open its court until the same year. In front of that 
 college the street became so narrow that it used to be said 
 that an able-bodied man could spit across it. Opposite to 
 Great St. Mary's Church, an open space was reached at last, 
 called, as now. Senate House Hill. But, if a traveller turned 
 aside at this point towards the market-place, he would have 
 found the east-end of the church encumbered with houses and 
 shops, and the chancel-wall begrimed with the smoke of a 
 baker's oven, and the market-place itself not much wider than 
 an ordinary street. It was a quaintly picturesque spot, that 
 ancient market, its shape like a capital letter L ; with its seven- 
 teenth century conduit, forerunner of the waterworks of our 
 own day, tumble-down stalls, and shops, the front of which 
 sometimes did duty as a counter to display the vendor's 
 wares. A beneficent fire in 1849 made short work of the 
 west side, and then the modern spirit got his claws into the 
 rest, and away went the Picturescpie in favour of the Convenient 
 and the Sanitary ! As might be expected, the streets in the 
 neighbourhood were equally curious — especially the Petty Cury, 
 with its two glorious old inns, " The Falcon " (sacred to the 
 memory of Mr. Pepys), part of which still survives, and " The
 
 Cambridge /V/ 1820 2i 
 
 Wrestlers,"" the front of which, with its great oriels and lofty 
 gables, it would have been hard to beat. But in all directions 
 the same features would be noticed — narrow, crowded streets, 
 with fine buildings here and there, but half shut out from 
 view. Trinity Street, from Senate House Hill to Trinity 
 College, may serve as a type of many streets; Bridge Street 
 could perhaps show then, as it can now, more old houses, and 
 was noisier and more crowded with carts, drays, waggons, 
 packhorses from the country and the river. Trinity College 
 was approached along a narrow thoroughfare bounded by high 
 walls ; St. John's College was half hidden behind another wall, 
 while the tower of All Saints' Church projected far into the 
 roadway. One pleasant feature of old Cambridge was the 
 number of trees. I have already spoken of the elms opposite 
 Catharine Hall. There was another and, to judge from old 
 prints, finer grove where the screen of King's College now 
 stands; and Provost Okes told me that members of the college 
 were occasionally allowed to shoot the rooks that built therein ; 
 at St. John's there was some splendid ivy, boiling over the old 
 red brick wall into the street; and at Sidney-Sussex College 
 was a row of poplars just inside the wall on the side of the 
 court next the street. I may have to recur to other features 
 of the quaint old place that I remember so well; for the 
 present let me insist on one point most emphatically — the 
 Cambridge of 1820 was to all intents and purposes the 
 mediaeval town into which the University had intruded itself 
 in the thirteenth century. The population in 1821 did not 
 exceed 14,142. 
 
 Let us suppose that our freshman gets rooms in Trinity 
 College. He would find life somewhat rough. It was not 
 the fashion in those days to make a set of rooms pretty, and 
 a " scheme of colour "" was not so much as thought of. A 
 few indispensable articles of furniture were bought, and that 
 was all. Of light and warmth the supply was scanty. The 
 courts were lit with oil lamps, and the staircases with tallow 
 candles. The Chapel was not warmed in any way, and the
 
 2 2 y.^s T^^niniscences 
 
 Hall had only the central brazier. 1 have heard Professor 
 Sedgwick describe how in his early days (he came up in 1804) 
 the floor of the Hall used to be covered with sawdust at the 
 beginning of winter in order to produce a certain amount of 
 warmth, and that the said sawdust was raked over from time 
 to time, as the uppermost stratum got dirty, so as to lay a 
 cleaner stratum uppermost. In private rooms fires could of 
 course be lighted at the pleasure of the occupant, but he was 
 to a certain extent at the mercy of the weather, and in severe 
 winters, when the Cam was frozen over, and barges could not 
 get up from Lynn to Cambridge, the supply of fuel has been 
 known to run out, and chairs, gun-cases, and other articles of 
 furniture were used until they also came to an end — and then 
 the shivering owner of the rooms had to sit in his greatcoat 
 and pray for a thaw. The Senate House, in which all the 
 University examinations were then held, was not warmed, 
 and, as they were held in January, many were the devices 
 resorted to to keep out the cold. I have heard of men being 
 so cold that they could not think, and those who cared for 
 their personal comfort wore two or three sets of underclothing, 
 two coats, and the like. In those days, and far later still, 
 the older members of the University seemed to be quite in- 
 sensible to cold. I can recollect that so late as 1859 the 
 library of Trinity College was not warmed, and the unfor- 
 tunate under-librarian, who had to sit in it for a certain 
 number of hours in each day, trembled with cold. Dr. 
 Whewell, then Master, could with difficulty be made to see 
 that some remedy ought to be provided, and though he was 
 the most generous of men, quite ready to admit that he had 
 been in the wrong when convinced of his error, I doubt if he 
 ever quite forgave one of the Fellows ^ who came forward with 
 a plan which showed how the warming might be effected, 
 which plan the Seniors adopted, notwithstanding the Master''s 
 opposition. 
 
 Water was supplied by the aqueduct first brought into 
 
 * J. himself.
 
 Town and Gown 23 
 
 Cambridge by the Franciscans from a spring between here and 
 Madingley, and tapped by King's Hall as it passed their gate. 
 When I came up in 1852 baths were unknown in College 
 rooms. We used foot-tubs, and basins, and so forth. In the 
 following year some enterprising youngster, in advance of his 
 time, brought a bath into College, and insisted on his bed- 
 maker filling it every morning from the fountain in the Great 
 Court. Great was the indignation felt, and expressed, by 
 those venerable ladies ; and there might perhaps have been 
 a general strike if a timely concession had not been made by 
 laying on the Water Company's supply to the different 
 staircases. 
 
 Our freshman would not have passed many days in Cam- 
 bridge without discovering that the Town and University were 
 on anything but friendly terms. Nor is this attitude to be 
 wondered at. The University complained, as they had done 
 in the reign of Henry the Third, when a great quarrel arose 
 over the price of lodgings, that the townspeople fleeced them. 
 The townspeople retorted that the University was perpetually 
 treating them with gross injustice in taking up a position — 
 due to the privileges unwisely granted by several kings — which 
 belonged of right to themselves. Moreover, they were probably 
 aware that they were spoken of collectively by their insolent 
 neighbours as "the snobs." The result was a state of per- 
 petual antagonism, which broke out every now and then, after 
 the manner of a volcano. The eruption usually took the form 
 of a town-and-gown row — what is in these days elegantly 
 termed " a rag " ; but it was a much more serious affair when 
 I was young. I may mention here that in those days goods 
 were brought into Cambridge either by waggon or by barge. 
 The latter method of transit introduced the bargee element 
 into the population. The bargees were fine stalwart fellows, 
 who dearly loved a fight, and many of them were skilled in 
 the art of self-defence, then extremely popular. The most 
 proficient soon got to know equally proficient undergraduates, 
 and both parties eagerly welcomed an occasion for a real
 
 24 y ''^ %eminisce7tces 
 
 good set-to. It was dull work to meet merely for the sake of 
 a boxins match, but a street disturbance offered an enjoyable 
 diversion ; much blood was shed (from the nose), and many 
 heads were broken. Now and then there was a rustication, 
 but not often ; and a few days afterwards it all began over 
 
 again. 
 
 Professor Pryme in his Autobiographic Recollections gives 
 an interestino; account of what he remembered about the dress 
 worn in his early days. Old gentlemen still wore wigs, and 
 there was a College porter who dusted and powdered them. I 
 never saw a wig worn, but I have seen Dr. Procter, INIaster of 
 Catharine Hall, who died in 1849, wear knee-breeches at a 
 dinner party in my father''s house; and I have heard my 
 mother say that Professor Pryme, during the Reform Bill 
 agitation, wore nankeen breeches at a dinner party given by 
 himself, with a bunch of blue and yellow ribbons at each knee, 
 a blue coat with brass buttons, and a buff waistcoat. I may 
 mention by the way that Pryme, though a Fellow of Trinity, 
 and a Master of Arts in a University that could not be 
 described at that time as liberal, actually sat as Member for 
 the Town of Cambridge in the first reformed parliament, 
 without losing a friend or making an enemy — a feat which 
 shows that Cambridge could, at any rate, appreciate sincerity. 
 I have heard that in 1829 William Makepeace Thackeray 
 wore, when full dressed, a blue coat, cut like a tail-coat, with 
 gold buttons. After 1852, when I became an undergraduate, 
 I remember that the older members of the University used to 
 tie the strings of their gowns ; and that clergymen, who were 
 in the majority, swathed their throats in stiffly starched white 
 neck-cloths, while laymen wore coloured scarves tied in a 
 similar fashion, and occasionally a blue coat with brass 
 buttons. Speaking generally, the cut of their clothes recalled 
 the fashions of the eighteenth century, repeated in black, with 
 dark grey for the trousers. Undergraduates did not dress for 
 Hall, as they did in Professor Pryme's day, but they invariably 
 put on a black coat and waistcoat. If they did not they were
 
 'The Fashions 25 
 
 liable to receive a message from the Dean, requesting the 
 offender to go back to his rooms and change his coat before 
 eating his dinner. The fashions of the outer world are sure to 
 be reflected at the Universities sooner or later, and when " the 
 Dandies," as they were called, were paramount in London, 
 their style was imitated here. Men who could afford the 
 expense exhibited themselves on King's Parade, between two 
 and four, arrayed in the extravagances of costume with which 
 the illustrations to Dickens have familiarised us. There were 
 to be seen high velvet collars on cut-away coats, stocks and 
 costly shirt-pins, embroidered waistcoats, and peg-top trousers 
 (as I think they were called) kept in shape by straps. A real 
 exquisite, who wished to copy that great exemplar of fashion, 
 Count D'Orsay, discarded upper leather to his boots, and had 
 them finished off with the same stuff as his trousers. When 
 a man went to a ball in the thirties, he had his hair curled by 
 a hairdresser, and, if he were a Fellow of his College, the hair- 
 curling probably took place in the Combination Room. In my 
 own time this fashion was no longer observed ; but due cultiva- 
 tion of the hair was considered of importance. Whiskers were 
 encouraged, of what was called the mutton cutlet type ; but the 
 chin had to be shaved, and no moustache was permitted. The 
 Volunteer Movement of 1859 was responsible for both beard and 
 moustache. I remember a man in my own year, afterwards a 
 Fellow, being told by the Dean to shave off a moustache on 
 which he prided himself not a little. He obeyed, but he ex- 
 pressed his regret in verse, of which I will quote a few lines : — 
 
 " Dean ! Is tliy seat so lofty that its snows 
 
 Have gathered to thy heart and settled there ! 
 Can my beard mar the heaven of tliy repose ? 
 So great a man, and such a little hair ! " 
 
 While dealing with this part of my subject let me impress 
 upon my readers that academical dress was much more generally 
 worn in old days than it is at present. I need hardly say that 
 I cannot vouch, by personal recollection, for what was done in 
 1820, but all that I have heard in conversation, or read in
 
 2 6 y,^s %e?7ti7iiscences 
 
 memoirs, leads me to the conclusion that both old and young — 
 " dons " and undergraduates alike — generally wore their caps 
 and gowns in the streets. In 1852 and succeeding years, such 
 was certainly our practice ; I think that we were rather proud 
 of the mark which differentiated us from the " snobs ■" ; and on 
 Sunday not even the excuse of a country walk was sufficient to 
 soften the hard heart of the proctors. A Head of a College 
 on his way to the University Sermon has been known to stop 
 an undergraduate walking in the opposite direction, and make 
 him precede him to Great St. Mary's. But, as I said above, 
 undergraduates wore their caps and gowns as a matter of 
 course. I can remember a distinguished mathematician in my 
 own year, afterwards an equally distinguished judge, lamenting 
 that his pupils would always come to his rooms in cap and 
 gown and be so distant as to refuse to talk. When a reaction 
 against those ancient formalities set in, and Fellows of Colleges 
 began to be seen in the streets clad in an old flannel suit, and 
 wearing a beard and moustache, older members of the Uni- 
 versity were shocked. Dr. Whewell, on such a man being 
 named in his presence, said, in a tone that spoke volumes : " I 
 have obsarved the parson." (Dr. WhewelPs mode of speaking 
 betrayed his North Country origin.) 
 
 II 
 
 Since I began to write these recollections a possible objection 
 has occurred to me, namely, that they are drawn to a great 
 extent from a single College. I will try to remedy this defect 
 (if it is a defect) before I have done. Meanwhile, let me say 
 that I do not think other Colleges differed very much from 
 my own. The roughness that I have described belonged to the 
 age, not to any particular House. 
 
 Let me now try to describe an undergraduate day such as 
 I remember it " sixty years since " (if I may speak in round 
 numbers) ; but, before I begin, let me remind my readers that 
 the undergraduate world of those times was a small one ac-
 
 ^n Undergraduates Day 27 
 
 cording to our modern ideas. I see that in 1852 there were 
 only 616 degrees taken in the University, as against 1466 in 
 1908. Further, we were pleased to regard ourselves as divided 
 into two sets — reading men and fast men, or, as they were 
 sometimes called, row-ing men, that is to say, men who fre- 
 quently got into rows. We did not accept any delicate shades 
 of graduation. If a man did not read (in our acceptation 
 of the term) he was ticketed off and cast aside. He might 
 be cultured and refined, acquainted with two or three modern 
 languages, a traveller in foreign parts, a musician, an artist 
 — if he did not "read," he was viewed with some suspicion, 
 and kept at a certain distance. Gradually this ridiculous 
 prejudice died away, but when I first entered the University 
 it was in full vigour. Now for our day. 
 
 The reading man got up at 6.30, and managed to get to 
 Chapel at 7. It was not the correct thing, in his set, to go 
 to Chapel in the evening ; and the deans of those days — though 
 they could be severe, very severe, on occasions — accepted five 
 or even four morning chapels in the week, provided that there 
 was absolute regularity about morning and evening service on 
 Sunday. Whewell has been heard to divide attendants at 
 Chapel into the " orthrodox and the hesperodox." There 
 had been a great misunderstanding between the undergraduates 
 and the authorities in 1838 about attendance at Chapel — of 
 which more anon — but before my day things had settled down, 
 and terms of peace had been arrived at. Chapel over, the 
 Fellows usually took a stroll in the College grounds, but the 
 undergraduates — except the crews of the boats, who ran as 
 far as the Observatory and back — went straight to their rooms, 
 some to finish their toilet, which was apt to be a trifle hasty 
 in the gloom of a winter's morning, some to breakfast as 
 quickly as they could and get ready for lecture. For fresh- 
 men, lectures began at nine, and continued till eleven ; for 
 men of other years they were at various times during the 
 morning, but I do not recollect that any were given later 
 than one o'clock. After lectures there was private work, or
 
 2 8 y.'s T{e7?ti7iisce7ices 
 
 a visit to a private tutor, and then came lunch. This hardly 
 deserved the name of a meal, and was soon despatched. It 
 consisted as a general rule of bread and butter with a slice 
 of cheese, or a cut at a cold pie which had already appeared 
 on the breakfast table. The luxurious and the wealthy allowed 
 themselves something hot from the kitchen, occasionally, but 
 not as a regular habit. Then came exercise. The regular 
 exercise for the reading man was a walk from two o'clock to 
 four o'clock — usually round " the Grantchester grind " as it 
 was called. He started along the Trumpington Road, made 
 a round by Grantchester mill and the church, and over the 
 fields home. It is a matter of tradition that men have been 
 seen doing this in their caps and gowns, but I cannot bear 
 the testimony of an eye-witness to this, except of course on 
 Sunday. Those who could afford it rode, and perhaps many 
 who could not ; for large parties used to start together by the 
 Trumpington Road, some galloping along the road itself, 
 others preferring the fields, where they could " lark " over the 
 fences. A few kept horses of their own, but the majority 
 depended on the tender mercies of Messrs. Jordan or Messrs. 
 Death. The horses were not thorough-breds, but they did 
 their duty in one way very thoroughly, they provided an 
 infinite quantity of amusement and healthy exercise. In the 
 early days of the century, before the Inclosure Acts, some 
 of the finest riding ground in England lay just outside Cam- 
 bridge. I have heard my father say that when he and his 
 friends started for a gallop, they avoided the ground between 
 Lensfield Road and Bateman Street because it was mai'shy, 
 and kept to the Hills Road for a short distance ; then they 
 turned off" to the left, and made for the Gogmagogs. When 
 they had once reached the rising ground, they could gallop 
 for any number of miles over the short velvety turf which 
 always flourishes on chalk. 
 
 In summer there was cricket and boating for those who 
 cared about such things, but neither game inspired (except 
 in its ardent votaries) the absorbing interest with which we
 
 Dinner in Hall 29 
 
 are familiar to-day ; and in winter, football (shall I say 
 happily ?) was unknown.^ I remember the first attempt to 
 get up University Sports. I wish I could recollect the year. 
 It was a ludicrous failure, received with shouts of laughter. 
 Little did those who laughed imagine that they were standing 
 beside the cradle of an infant whose victorious career would 
 one day emulate that of Napoleon. 
 
 But I am wandering away, as is the manner of garrulous 
 old fogies, and if I don't stop we shall be late for Hall. 
 Dinner was served in Trinity at four precisely. A few years 
 before, the hour had been three. The whole College dined, 
 or was supposed to dine, together, though of course a man 
 could get marked, as at present, if he chose. The dinners 
 were not subdivided, and I need not enlarge on the crowding 
 which occasionally took place. Later on, somewhere about 
 1864, a small dining club was started called the Anti-Dining-in- 
 Hall-on-Sunday-because-of-the-Squash — and sometimes known 
 by the first letters only of those words, which letters were 
 supposed to form a word of their own, but what it was I 
 never understood, though I often enjoyed the hospitality of 
 the Institution, and very pleasant little dinners they were, 
 given at, I think, the Lion Hotel, Well — to go back to, let 
 us say, 1852. The undergraduates' dinner consisted of joints of 
 beef and mutton set on the tables at short intervals, with dishes 
 of vegetables between the dishes of meat. In my time china 
 dishes were used, but shortly before that date they had been 
 of pewter. The meat was excellent, and well cooked, but 
 there were no carvers, and men helped themselves. When Mr. 
 Smith had cut off' a plateful, he pushed the joint to his neigh- 
 bour. Happy he who got the first cut, and most unhappy he 
 who came in late, and found little left but bones with a few 
 rags of meat clinging to them, and cold gravy. Those who 
 were particular about their dinner used to be ready when the 
 
 ^ Since writing the above I find an edict of the Vice-Chancellor, dated 
 29th October 1632, prescribing the places where students might play 
 football, as though it were then a common game.
 
 o y .^s ^B^mi7iisce7tces 
 
 door opened to spring into a place opposite to a promising 
 joint. For those who wanted something more tasty than plain 
 meat there were " sizings "" — soup and pudding and cheese — 
 but it was imprudent to " size " soup, for while you were 
 eating it the joint was vanishing. It was the old fable of the 
 dog and the bone repeated in actual experience. The waiters 
 — it is almost incredible — were bedmakers, who performed 
 their duties in bonnets and little shawls pinned round their 
 shoulders — I suppose to keep out the draughts, which were 
 numerous and strong. The hall was lighted by gas brackets 
 projecting from the walls, so the light was wholly insufficient. 
 Later on a large brass standard appeared in the middle of the 
 hall, which certainly dispelled some of the darkness; but 
 nobody liked it, and the undergraduates nicknamed it, by a 
 strange perversity, " Anti-Christ." 
 
 Hall despatched — and it never took long — came the 
 pleasantest part of the day — a quiet chat with two or three 
 intimate friends, or an hour's rest in an arm-chair in one's 
 own rooms, in the full enjoyment of some piece of modern 
 literature. We had our literary and artistic enthusiasms even 
 in those days of peace, when storms of war and politics might 
 be raging outside, but rarely disturbed what somebody 
 called "the magnificent repose" of Cambridge. But to this 
 subject I will recur presently. Ruskin woke us up, and it 
 was delightful to read the "purple patches" of that master of 
 stvle, and to follow him in his denunciation of most of the 
 artists whom we had been taught to respect. Then there was 
 Alexander Smith and his Life Drama, a poem which we 
 thought the finest in existence (I need hardly add that we had 
 not read much else). Some of us attempted Festus (I wonder 
 if anybody reads these works now), and other productions of 
 what a cold and heartless critic called "The Spasmodic 
 School," and we went on from one adoration to another till 
 all our lights were suddenly extinguished by that audacious 
 writer Mr. T. Percy Jones,^ whose F'lnn'dian, or the Student of 
 
 ^ i.e. W. E. Aytouii.
 
 "^ Wine'' 31 
 
 Badajoz chased our favourite poet out of court with peals of 
 lauffhter, and restored us to common sense. Some of us went 
 straight from Hall to the Union and read the newspapers; 
 and of these a small contingent took the events of the day very 
 much to heart, and used eagerly to seize on the unwary, to 
 walk him up and down the court, and predict the immediate 
 ruin of the country. 
 
 Occasionally the period which intervened between Hall at 
 four and evening Chapel at six was occupied by a wine-party. 
 That curious ceremony deserves a place in my recollections, 
 for it was, after all, a ceremonious function, which nobody — 
 not even the rowdiest and fastest among us — could have 
 thought amusing, or in fact anything except a sort of 
 occasional sacrifice demanded by society. The entertainment 
 flourished best in lodgings. We will therefore imagine our 
 friend Jones, humbly lodged in two rooms, sitting-room and 
 bedroom, on a second floor in Trinity Street. It occurs to 
 him about the middle of the Michaelmas term that he ought 
 to give " a wine." He invites his entire acquaintance, not 
 merely his friends, but everybody whom he knows, even 
 distantly. His room measures, we will say, fourteen feet by 
 twelve, but what of that.'* The great god fashion must be 
 propitiated. Then he orders a dessert — not necessarily a very 
 expensive or lavish affair — and finds out whether he has got 
 enough port or sherry to satisfy his guests. They arrive. The 
 knowing ones come early to get a seat at the table, where 
 there is room for twelve or fourteen, and these only have a 
 chance of getting something to eat and drink. The rest stand 
 and depend for a glass of wine on the charity of the seated. 
 The door of the bedroom is opened, and a few take refuge 
 therein. Presently one of the itinerant bands of music, which 
 used to parade the streets in the hopes of an engagement, 
 rings the bell, and asks if its services are not required. A 
 bargain is quickly struck, and a harper (there was invariably a 
 harp on these occasions), with other makers of noise, establishes 
 himself on the stairs. Then the hubbub roared full cry. The
 
 32 y.'s ^Reminiscences 
 
 music tried to drown the talkers — the talkers tried to drown 
 the music. Conversation there was none, only a noise. Then 
 came smoke. In a short time the atmosphere became dense, 
 the dessert and the wine came to an end, and it was Chapel 
 time (mercifully). A number of men left — whether they went 
 to Chapel or not may be doubted — but they went away, the 
 host begging them to come back after service. Perhaps some 
 did — I cannot speak from experience — and they may have 
 " told bad stories and sung bad songs " as Thackeray says in his 
 Book of Snohs. I can only say that I never heard either the 
 one or the other. When the " wine " was given in college it 
 was a far more quiet affair — and much pleasanter; and the 
 small parties of this kind, where the host carefully selected his 
 company, were simply delightful. 
 
 While on this subject let me not forget to mention the 
 " wines " given by the tutors, and other Fellows of the 
 college. They could be very formal and dull, if the tutor had 
 not the art of talking, or failed to get a talkative Fellow to 
 support him. And of course the undergraduates were very 
 shy and spoke to each other in fearful whis^oers. Only now 
 and then some audacious person, taking advantage of a dead 
 silence, would prefer a sententious remark, such as : " Coleridge 
 has wall observed that Shakespeare is the only author in 
 whose writings no word could be altered without impairing 
 their beauty." Which remark, if ever made, is said to have 
 
 elicited the rejoinder : " I suppose, Mr. you would 
 
 except St. Paul ? " Another, equally unfortunate, occurs to 
 me : " Is it true, sir, that when you were an undergraduate, 
 you belonged to the Sabbatarian Shakespeare Society ? " 
 " No, we used to meet on Sundays," replied the tutor. But 
 I can recall some Fellows to whose rooms we went with 
 pleasure, where the welcome was cordial, and where the 
 guests were drawn into conversation with no apparent effort, 
 by the rare power of the host to make his guests feel at 
 home in his society. I am thinking, as I write, of Pro- 
 fessor Thompson, afterwards Master, and Mr. W. G. Clark.
 
 The T(^adi7ig Man 33 
 
 On these fortunate occasions the hardest reader in College 
 took a holiday ; but, as a general rule, the typical reading man 
 was back in his rooms by six o'clock, where he was sure of 
 a good quiet time till eight or half-past eight, when he had 
 tea, usually not alone. Some equally hard reader would 
 drop in, perhaps by appointment, to talk about work ; or, 
 possibly, the two friends were reading some book together, 
 and had arranged to meet every evening till it was finished. 
 If no one dropped in, he would probably start, milk-jug 
 in hand, for somebody else's rooms, in search for com- 
 panionship. Then came bed, at about eleven, if the reader 
 were a prudent man ; but, as he most likely was not, at 
 any hour, for conversation was pretty sure to succeed work, 
 and lastly would come a walk in the cloisters. 
 
 Such was our division of time. It seems strange enough 
 to modern ears ; but, having regard to our exceptional life, 
 it was not a bad one. For its realisation it required a state 
 of things wholly different from what we are experiencing 
 now\ I mean, it assumed that we had the power of isolating 
 ourselves from all interests except those that had to do with 
 our work. We had no distractions except those we made 
 for ourselves. I shall speak by and by, I hope, of the 
 pursuits and amusements of those for whom the studies of 
 the place had little or no attraction, but what I wish to 
 insist upon is, that a man who wished to work in the fifties 
 and early sixties had no impediments cast in his way by a 
 diversity of interests. 
 
 Before I close this instalment of my recollections let me 
 remark that between 1820 and (say) 1850, graduates, like 
 undergraduates, could lead, and did lead, undisturbed lives. 
 Some said that they were lazy, and when Mr. Beverley 
 made his attack on Cambridge in 1833 he tried to persuade 
 the world that they were also vicious. I believe neither 
 accusation. Fellows of Colleges were not expected to take 
 a share in the government of the University as at present. 
 The Colleges were everything, the University a mere degree- 
 
 c
 
 34 J?'-'-^ ^Reminiscences 
 
 giving corporation, governed by the Vice-Chancellor and the 
 Heads of Colleges in reality, and by the Caput Senatiis 
 according to the Statutes, until the Act of 1856. Try to 
 imagine an academic world without Boards, or Syndicates, or 
 Discussions in the Senate House, or — may I say it without 
 
 offence ? — Marriage. 
 
 in 
 
 I said above I would return by and by to the subject of the 
 Chapel question, as it would be called nowadays. 
 
 From what I have heard of compulsory chapels in earlier 
 times, I gather that deans were sometimes — well — brutal. In 
 illustration of this I cannot refrain from telling a story which 
 my readers will perhaps have read for themselves in The Cam- 
 bridge Tart — if their researches should have led them into the 
 antiquities of University literature — but which I have the very 
 best reason for knowing to be literally true. Let me add that 
 in after years the official in question became a pious, hard- 
 working parish clergyman. An undergraduate had been very 
 irregular in his attendance at chapel. The Junior Dean sent 
 for him. " What excuse have you for your absence from 
 Chapel, sir ? " " Please, sir, I felt no inclination to pray." 
 
 " That's no excuse. I don't want your prayers ; I want 
 
 to see your face. Write out for me " — naming some long 
 
 imposition. This dialogue took place at the very outset of the 
 period I have selected for illustration, and as the dean in 
 question admitted in after years that the story was probably 
 true, I set it down as evidence of the times rather than of the 
 man. People were strangely violent in their language when I 
 was young. I may take it that my readers have all either seen 
 or read Sheridan's comedy The Rivals. Well, I have heard 
 Sir Anthony Absolute described as a caricature. Caricature 
 indeed — he is a photograph ; and the original might have 
 been any gentleman fifty years of age taken at random out of 
 anybody's acquaintance. They were charming people, those 
 old men — kind, charitable, good-natured, good-tempered,
 
 Compulsory Chapel 35 
 
 provided they were not contradicted or thwarted. Then, you 
 might hear the tiles fly off the house, as I once heard such an 
 one say of himself. 
 
 It does not fall within the scope of these random Recollec- 
 tions to discuss whether compulsory chapel be wise or unwise ; 
 but as a preface to what happened in my College in 1838, I 
 will mention that, in May 1834, Connop Thirlwall, then one of 
 the assistant tutors of Trinity College, in a " Letter on the 
 Admission of Dissenters to Academical Degrees,"" had spoken 
 of chapel as " the constant repetition of a heartless, mechanical 
 service " ; nay, further, he had asserted that, " with an immense 
 majority of our congregation it is not a religious service at all, 
 and that to the remaining few it is the least impressive and 
 edifying that can well be conceived." His criticism was not 
 merely negative ; he advocated a weekly service, " which should 
 remind the young men of that to which they have been accus- 
 tomed at home." The pamphlet created a great sensation; 
 the Master was terribly shocked, and requested the author to 
 resign his assistant-tutorship ; he did so, and then the academic 
 world went to sleep again for a few years. 
 
 I cannot help thinking that Thirlwall's action must have 
 had some connection with what happened next. It may be 
 conjectured that his remarks would be widely read by those to 
 whom they applied most closely, and that undergraduates 
 would try how far they might venture to absent themselves 
 from a service which they disliked, and now discovered that 
 one man at least, older and wiser than themselves, agreed with 
 them in disliking, at least so far as compulsory attendance at 
 it was concerned. Whatever may have been the cause, in 
 February 1838 the Master and Seniors of Trinity College 
 agreed that all undergraduates " do attend Chapel eight times 
 at the least in every week, including Sunday Morning and Even- 
 ing; and that in case of failure the Parties under such default 
 be forthwith admonished by the Dean, and if, after such admo- 
 nition, irregularity be persisted in, notice be sent by the Dean 
 to the Tutor, that a warning from him also may timely be given ;
 
 36 y.^s T(em in iscences 
 
 after which, if both these means shall fail in producing regu- 
 larity, the Offender shall be reported by the Dean, to the 
 Master (or, in his absence, to the Vice-Master) to receive a 
 formal Admonition from him, in the presence of the Dean, a 
 record of which shall be preserved : and finally, in all cases, 
 where such formal Admonition shall have been incurred three 
 times, the Offender shall ipso facto be removed from the 
 College, either for one or more Terms, or entirely, according 
 to the circumstances of the case." 
 
 Hereupon was perpetrated one of the most audacious and, 
 at the same time, humorous, outbursts of undergraduate resist- 
 ance to what was regarded by them as tyranny. A number of 
 undergraduates formed themselves into a society, which they 
 called " The Society foe the Prevention of Cruelty to 
 Undergraduates " ; they took steps that a certain number of 
 members should attend each service and take note of the 
 attendance of the Master and Fellows. At the end of each week 
 they published the result, arranged after the manner of a 
 marker's sheet, with notes. The papers were printed, I believe, 
 in Cambridge, but by whom and at whose instigation was 
 never found out. Six copies were sent to each of the University 
 clubs in London, and a large number were circulated in Cam- 
 bridge. The issue of these papers continued for six weeks — 
 from 17th February to 24th March — after which they were dis- 
 continued, as the authorities had relaxed their requirements to 
 a certain extent, but — so far as my researches go — not so far as 
 the jubilant expressions of the last paper issued would warrant. 
 I have, in fact, been told that the assertion in the notes to that 
 marking-sheet, dated S^th March, to the efl'ect that the ]VIaster 
 and Seniors had agreed to " a new regulation which requires 
 only Six Chapels to be ipso facto kept each week by the Under- 
 graduates," was a forgery issued by the society. Perhaps both 
 they and the authorities were glad to terminate the affair. 
 No such regulation was entered in the Conclusion Book of 
 Trinity College, and the regulations complained of were virtu- 
 ally in force for many a long year afterwards. At the end of
 
 Compulsory Chapel 37 
 
 the concluding paper the Fellows were arranged in four classes, 
 after the manner of a College Examination ; two were not 
 classed at all, of whom " the secretary need hardly say that 
 he does not envy them their feelings " ; and a Prize Medal (as 
 it was called) " for regular attendance at Chapel, and good 
 conduct when there "^ was awarded to Mr. Perry, whose attend- 
 ances had amounted to sixtv-six. The " Medal " was a large 
 Bible, which Mr. Perry, who afterwards became Bishop of 
 Melbourne, valued greatly. I had the pleasure of meeting 
 him after his return to England, and he told me that he 
 always used the volume at family prayers. 
 
 The question excited a lively interest in college, and gave 
 rise to various effusions in prose and verse. One at least of 
 the former was decided to be profane (as it undoubtedly must 
 have been), for it was a parody on the Litany, and the author 
 was promptly expelled ; another, which lies before me as I 
 write, might be styled gross. But there is no harm in " A 
 New Song to an Auld Fling," from which I will quote the 
 opening stanzas : — 
 
 I 
 
 " He's lazy ! he's lazy ! is old Greenwood, 
 In his nest our sweet bird is singing ; 
 Brown, Tlionipson, and ^V'histle are lazy of mood, 
 Though the Chapel bell is ringing. 
 
 II 
 
 Oh, Master best ! our nightly rest 
 
 Is spoilt, is broken through ; 
 And we must hold, through wet and cold, 
 
 To Chapel — and for you. 
 
 Ill 
 
 'Tis all on account of your notice so long 
 
 And your many notanda so true, 
 That daily we're seen, hauled up by the Dean, 
 
 With our gowns and our faces of blue." 
 
 In the above verses " old Greenwood ^ is Robert Hodgson
 
 38 y.^s ^Reminiscences 
 
 Greenwood, Senior Fellow in residence. He had taken his 
 B.A. degree in 1791, and therefore in 1838 was about sixty 
 years old. " Our sweet bird " is George Peacock, then one of 
 the tutors, a man of wide cultivation and knowledge of affairs, 
 deservedly popular with everybody. He became Dean of Ely 
 in 1839. Brown ought to be John Brown, then Vice-Master ; 
 but possibly there may be a clerical error, and George Adam 
 Browne, one of the Seniors, may be meant. Thompson is 
 W. H. Thompson, then a junior Fellow, afterwards Greek 
 Professor, and Master in 1866. "Whistle" was a nickname 
 for William Whewell, then one of the tutors, and iVIaster in 
 1841. 
 
 To come down to more modern days, I cannot claim for 
 men in my own year that we were specially obedient ; but I 
 do not remember that compulsory chapels were found to be 
 more irksome than ordinary duties, except perhaps to Scholars, 
 who were obliged, when " in waiting," to read the Lessons for 
 a week at a time. Some of us, on the other hand, felt that 
 daily service was a duty not lightly to be neglected; and, 
 though they did not wholly approve the way in which it was 
 said, they took what was given to them, and were thankful. 
 As a general rule everybody behaved with propriety. " Iniquity 
 Corner," as the space at the east end on each side of the altar 
 was called, may occasionally have eflectually sheltered card- 
 playing ; but when a young snob went so far as to light a cigar 
 there he had the pleasure of finishing it in the country, for he 
 was rusticated. It was on a cognate occasion in Jesus College, 
 in which cobblers' wax played a prominent part, that Dr. Corrie 
 dismissed the culprit, after a severe lecture, with these admir- 
 able words : " Your conduct, sir, is what a Christian would 
 call profane, and a gentlen)an vulgar." 
 
 IV 
 
 When I first began these Ilecollections I had it in my mind 
 to deal at some length with the course of study which pre-
 
 ^^ ^cts and Oppo?ie7icies^^ 39 
 
 ceded a degree, for during my period " old things passed 
 away, and all things became new." But, on mature reflection, 
 I have decided that the subject requires a volume all to itself. 
 This latter treatment I hope it may receive before long from a 
 far abler pen than mine. Meanwhile I will say only just as 
 much as is required from my own point of view. I want to 
 indicate — quite superficially — the nature of an undergraduate's 
 work, especially in the first half of my period. 
 
 Mathematics held an undisputed supremacy in those Univer- 
 sity Examinations which led to a degree. The Mathematical 
 Tripos was the only Tripos, and there was no preliminary 
 examination of any kind. There had survived, however, from 
 mediaeval times, a system of syllogistic disputations, called 
 Acts and Opponencies, to which every aspirant to a degree 
 was obliged to submit. One or other of the Moderators sent 
 for each student in turn, and assigned to him one out of three 
 propositions, submitted by the student, as the subject on 
 which he was prepared to write a thesis. The proposition 
 might be Mathematical or Moral, and was stated in Latin, the 
 language in which the whole procedure was conducted. Here 
 are examples of both propositions : — 
 
 Recte statuit Newtonus in septima sua sectione libri pi'imi ; 
 Recte statuit Lockius de Qualitatibus Corporum. 
 
 On a day appointed by the Moderator, the " Respondent," 
 as he was called, attended in the Public Schools, and read a 
 thesis on the propositions selected. The reading ended, up 
 rose three Opponents, one after the other, and traversed the 
 Respondent's arguments. He replied, and if the two were really 
 conversant with the subject, and capable of quick repartee in 
 Latin, with a Moderator who took a pride in stage-managing 
 the performance (for such it was), a brilliant entertainment 
 was provided, and the school in which it took place is said to 
 have been crowded with enthusiastic listeners. This favourable 
 view of the proceedings is given on the authority of Bishop 
 Watson, who was Moderator in 1762 ; and Mr. de Morgan,
 
 40 y:s ^e 
 
 eminiscences 
 
 who was fourth wrangler in 1827, records that in his day : 
 " The real disputations were very severe exercises. I was 
 badgered for two hours with arguments given and answered in 
 Latin — or what we called Latin — against Newton's first section, 
 Lagrange's Derived Functions, and Locke on Innate Principles. 
 And though I took off everything, and was pronounced by the 
 Moderator to have disputed magno honore, I never had such a 
 strain of thought in my life. For the inferior opponents were 
 made as sharp as their betters by their tutors, who kept lists of 
 queer objections drawn from all quarters."^ 
 
 A shaky student was occasionally prompted by his private 
 tutor, and that too, under the very eyes of the IVIoderator, by 
 the help of a cleverly arranged code of signals. I have good 
 authority for the following story. The tutor, an Italian, and 
 therefore a master of dramatic gestures, said : " I shall sit in 
 the gallery ; when I button my coat, so, you will say, Nego 
 minorem : but when I throw it open, so, you will say Cedo 
 major em.'''' 
 
 When the Moderator considered that the questions had 
 been sufficiently debated, he dismissed the Respondent with 
 the words Opt'ime qu'idem disjjiitasti, or Opiime di.sputasti — 
 whence the division into Senior and Junior Optimes. The 
 Moderators took careful notes of these performances, and sorted 
 the candidates for the B.A. degree in accordance with them 
 into as many classes as they thought proper. These were 
 modified by examination — in the modern sense of the word ; 
 and, finally, the order with which we are familiar was settled. 
 The " 1*01101," or ordinary degrees, came last, the names being 
 sorted into not more than four classes, and arranged alphabeti- 
 cally in each class. It was provided by a Grace passed in 1791 
 that their names should not be printed. 
 
 Mr. de Morgan, in the passage which I have just quoted, 
 speaks of "real disputations," words which imply that some 
 were unreal ; and such no doubt there must always have been. 
 
 1 Budget of Paradoxes, p. 305, quoted by Wordsworth, Scholce 
 Academicee, p. 63, note.
 
 The Triposes 41 
 
 Imagine everybody, clever men and stupid men, hard-reading 
 men and idle men, compelled to grind corn at such a mill ! 
 No wonder that many failed, and that for some, the evidently 
 incapable, a sort of parody of a disputation was allowed, called 
 " huddling." And yet the system died hard — it did not come 
 to an end until 1840 — and I have heard Dr. Whewell say, in 
 a tone of regret, that " men''s wits were sharpened by it." As 
 for the language used, well might Mr. de Morgan smile at 
 " what we called Latin." It was probably as little like the 
 genuine article as the mediaeval Latin which we find used in 
 College Accounts — where a countryman is homo de pati'ia^ and 
 so forth. Indeed it is stated, I know not on whose authority, 
 that a dog having strayed into the Senate House, his immediate 
 expulsion was ordered in the words, verte canem ex. 
 
 While the University was engaged in supporting these 
 curious ceremonies — what a Carlyle might have called mediaeval 
 old clothes — the Colleges, or some of them, were doing their 
 best to instruct their men in Classics. In mv own Collep-e, 
 for instance, it was a matter of tradition to educate in Latin 
 and Greek, and the instruction given was of a very high order : 
 the annual examinations were strict, and, in the election to 
 Fellowships, classical attainments which were not recognised in 
 the Senate House were taken into account. As time went on 
 a public examination in Classics was established. This took 
 place in 1822, and the examination was called the Classical 
 Tripos; but it was clogged with restrictions. No man might 
 enter it unless he was at least a Junior Optime — a rule 
 borrowed from the Chancellor's Medals, founded 1751 by the 
 Duke of Newcastle, for which every candidate was required to 
 be a Senior Optime — so that it was no avenue to a degree. 
 When the Moral Sciences Tripos and the Natural Sciences 
 Tripos were instituted in 1848, the condition about Mathe- 
 matical Honours was not insisted upon, but a candidate was 
 still required to have obtained the degree of B.A. Subsequent 
 legislation set all these Triposes free from restrictive conditions, 
 and encouraged the development of individual tastes and
 
 42 y.''s ^I{eminiscences 
 
 acquirements — a movement which in our own time reached 
 the Special Examinations, estabHshed in the place of the old 
 Ordinary Degree Examination, which was a strange com- 
 bination of incongruous subjects, with a Professor's course of 
 lectures thrown in as a make-weio-ht. 
 
 The requirement of attendance at Professors' lectures is 
 said to have been invented by Dr. Whewell in order to provide 
 the Professors with an audience. Every candidate for an 
 ordinary degree was obliged to present a card signed by a 
 Professor to certify that he had duly attended his lectures 
 and passed an examination in them. Whewell had a very high 
 idea of the value of professorial teaching. " Such lectures," 
 he wrote, "tend to make the hearer feel that he is a sharer 
 in the present as well as the past progress of literature and 
 science ; that he is a citizen of an intellectual republic, which 
 has the advancement of knowledge, and the discovery of truth, 
 for its constant aims. The charm which belongs to such 
 lectures, when they are delivered by able and diligent Pro- 
 fessors, will often take a strong hold upon the mind of the 
 intelligent student, and impart to him a fervour of thought 
 and a largeness of comprehension which cannot be communi- 
 cated in any other manner." All this is very true, but the 
 enthusiast who wrote the above passage forgot who the 
 hearers of the Professors were to be, and the result was verv 
 different from what he had imagined. I, for instance, attended 
 a course of lectures by Sir .James Stephen on the foreign policy 
 of Louis Quatorze, delivered with the solemnity of which he 
 was master, and in language far above the comprehension of 
 the young fellows who sat below him. At the close of the 
 lecture we dropped our cards into a dish placed on a table 
 below the Professor's desk. The number of cards was usually 
 the same as the number of the class, but I am afraid that we 
 did not always confine ourselves to our own cards. If a man 
 wanted to shirk it was not difficult to find a friend who would 
 leave two cards instead of one. Then came the examination. 
 Towards the end of the course the Professor told us that we
 
 Trofessors' Lectures 43 
 
 were to be examined in Guizot's History of the English 
 Reformation — a work which may be of great historical value, 
 but is repulsively dull, especially in the English translation 
 which we were expected to use. I did my best to get it up — 
 in the midst of other and more pressing studies — but when I 
 entered the examination room, behold, our learned Professor 
 had set a paper of the old form, on a large folio page, closely 
 covered with a set of very searching questions. " All is over," 
 I said to myself. " I must be plucked." I wrote very little — 
 and that little was sad stuff — but I was let through ! The 
 truth was that all the Professors hated this system, and did 
 their best to evade it. " I make a rule never to pluck a 
 gentleman twice," said the Professor of Political Economy. 
 When these noble sentiments became known in the University, 
 his lecture-room was crowded. Before long the University 
 appointed an assessor to each Professor — a sort of dragon — 
 to prevent him being too easy in the matter of examination. 
 
 Before this unfortunate move of Dr. WhewelPs had passed 
 into law, certain Professors were successful in obtaining large 
 audiences of voluntary students. Such were E. D. Clarke, 
 whose lectures on Mineralogy were crowded ; Professor Hens- 
 low, and Professor Sedgwick. The two last laid the founda- 
 tion of our Natural Science School. Both were men of great 
 personal charm, and both laid themselves out to attract any 
 undergraduates who showed promise. In the house of the one, 
 and the rooms of the other, the lamp of science was kept 
 burning at a time when good people thought it " dangerous," 
 and when even broader-minded divines were exercised about the 
 reconciliation of geology with the Mosaic cosmogony. When 
 Sedgwick had his famous controversy with the Dean of York 
 at a meeting of the British Association, Hudson, the " Railway 
 King," as he was called, is reported to have said, " If it comes 
 to a vote, I shall vote for the Dean and Moses." And probably 
 the people of this country would have placed those two persons 
 at the head of any poll, by an enormous majority. 
 
 This sketch has been, I hope, sufficiently detailed to show
 
 44 J's 7{6 
 
 e7ntnisce?ices 
 
 that in what I may call the old University course there was 
 little to attract the average man. A mathematician had 
 plenty to employ his time, and a diligent classical scholar 
 would find three vears too short for all he wished to read. 
 But for the rest, what was there ? — rowing, cricket, and riding, 
 and, after 1840, football, as has already been mentioned. For 
 instance, what did the " bloods," or fast men do ? They 
 played at billiards, but not in Cambridge. Oh ! no — the pure 
 atmosphere of the academic groves must not be sullied by that 
 profane game ; but at Chesterton, out of bounds, so to speak, 
 it might be indulged in — and was, under the patronage of the 
 once celebrated Wonfer — or on the Grantchester side of the 
 Barton Road. There was tennis, too, but only to a very 
 limited extent, the old collegiate courts having been pulled 
 down. Quoits are said to have been played occasionally on 
 Clare Hall Piece, the green space immediately to the west 
 of the College. The mention of this Piece reminds me of a 
 pleasant old custom. On Commencement Sunday the whole 
 academic world used to walk up and down there for half an 
 hour after the University Sermon, and a very pretty sight it 
 was, Mr. Vice-Chancellor and all the Heads and Doctors in 
 scarlet, and the ladies in their best frocks. In the days to 
 which I allude personal attendance was required at "creation," 
 as it was called — that is to say, every man who had taken one 
 of the higher degrees came to Cambridge and was formally 
 " created " by the Head of his Faculty, or by the Senior 
 Proctor, in the Senate House. It was a time of festivity in 
 a quiet way, and much looked forward to as the last occasion 
 when all the men of a given year had the chance of meeting 
 each other. But I am deserting my "bloods" and their 
 amusements. In winter they had hunting, and freely did they 
 take advantage of the proximity of Cambridge to several good 
 packs of hounds. Then there were steeplechases occasionally, 
 very much forbidden, and now and then successfully interdicted 
 by a vigorous proctor ; and last, but by no means least, New- 
 market. I am afraid that I should not be a truthful chronicler
 
 ^7nuseme7tts 4.5 
 
 if I did not admit that there was always a good deal of 
 gambling. A popular game of chance would certainly be 
 played for ever-increasing stakes till somebody was " broke " 
 and could not pay his losses, or somebody was accused of 
 cheating others, and then there was a serious row, which lasted 
 for a longer or a shorter time according to the standing of the 
 players, or until the intervention of common sense in the person 
 of a man of the world, who affected to look into the facts, and 
 then whitewashed everybody, accusers and accused alike. I 
 must admit also that in earlier times, when drinking-bouts 
 were the fashion in good society, they were also the fashion 
 in Cambridge. I have heard of feet being broken off glasses 
 in order to ensure the drinking of bumpers, but such a prank 
 as that belongs to the days when a song, a toast, or a senti- 
 ment was demanded of each person in company, and was out 
 of fashion long before my time. I can say, with perfect truth, 
 that though I may have seen men " happy " at a dinner party, 
 I never saw anybody in that condition which once upon a time 
 was called " glorious," 
 
 Here I must stop for the present — I had intended to say a 
 great deal more about the pursuits and amusements of those 
 who could not be called either reading men or fast men. I 
 should liked to have spoken of the Union and other debating 
 societies, the Theatre, public and private, the interest taken 
 in literature at different periods, and to have mentioned some 
 of the distinguished men who have from time to time adorned 
 our Colleges. I think, as I write, of Thackeray, of Tennyson, 
 of Arthur Hallam, of Mackworth Praed, of Lord Houghton, 
 and many others, about whom it would have been a pleasure 
 to collect a few facts. And then there is general society. It 
 would have been a very real pleasure to me to try and draw a 
 picture of what that was in the days before the new Statutes 
 had " cried Havock, and let slip the dogs of war." Our quiet 
 little preserves must have been very like the Ancien Regime 
 before the Revolution ; or Italy before Napoleon upset the old 
 order of things.
 
 46 y .^s T{e7ni?iiscences 
 
 V 
 
 Up to the present, in ray " Recollections,'''' I have confined 
 myself, more or less closely, to the education and amusements 
 of the place. I must now try to describe what the general 
 society was like ; and, in the first place, let us consider how 
 very small it was. Let us begin by opening the Calendar for 
 1842, when I was nine years old. My father and mother were 
 very fond of society, and if anybody was worth knowing I am 
 sure they knew them ; but, so far as I can make out, they could 
 not possibly have been on visiting terms with more than sixty 
 ladies, if so many. In the first place, there were seventeen 
 Heads of Colleges — we will go minutely over these later 
 on; then there were twenty-five Professors, and eleven resi- 
 dents in Cambridge, Commorantes, popularly called " Cor- 
 morants." Now what steps did they take to see anything of 
 each other ? In the first place, there was the perpetual morning 
 call ; secondly, the evening party ; and, thirdly, the great staple 
 entertainment, a dinner party. Mrs. Jones was not on proper 
 visiting terms with Mrs. Smith unless she had been invited, with 
 quite long notice on a card, not infrequently coloured a delicate 
 pink or a light azure. Moreover, there was an unwritten code 
 of laws which governed a dinner party. I will try to describe 
 one. We will suppose a lady and gentleman are sitting by 
 their dining-room fire. " My dear, I think we ought to give a 
 dinner party.'" " Do you .? I don't think we owe anybody 
 anything.'*'' It must here be said that nobody dreamt of issuing 
 invitations because they wished to see people, but merely 
 because certain rules of society had to be obeyed. If you lived 
 in Cambridge in a certain position, you had to entertain. There 
 was no way out of it. It had to be done. " If you look more 
 closely into the matter I think you will find there are some 
 people at whose feet a dinner ought to be laid.'''' " Very well," 
 with a certain asperity of tone, " I will go and find my pocket- 
 book and then we will see." I need hardly add that the
 
 ty/ D'm7ter Tarty 4.7 
 
 husband was right, and as there were several persons of Euro- 
 pean reputation for learning who had not dined in their house, 
 a dinner party was agreed upon. Further, I must not omit to 
 chronicle the fact that this dinner-giving went on and on, and 
 there was no end to it. You had no sooner finished one batch 
 than you had to begin with another. 
 
 The number selected was usually about sixteen or eighteen, 
 consisting of six couples, the master and mistress of the house, 
 and four of the pleasantest bachelors available. In making the 
 selection many things had to be considered. If it was Lent, 
 you must be careful not to ask a High Church Professor of 
 Divinity on a Friday ; and, further, a Friday was dangerous 
 because the " Family " met on that day. Monday was sacred 
 to the Philosophical Society ; and, as Natural Sciences became 
 popular, Wednesdays were consecrated to the Ray Club. 
 
 At last the guests are completed, and host and hostess await 
 in fear and trembling for the almost inevitable disappointments 
 at the last moment. It ought to have been easy enough in so 
 small a place to get people to fill up, but it was not ; and I have 
 heard a lady who came at the last moment say, in the midst of 
 a dead silence, " Pleasant party this. We don't belong to it. 
 We were only asked this morning." 
 
 Now you must know that the food and drink and the 
 appearance of the table were all totally different to what 
 they are now. As regards the first of these, the host had to 
 resort to his college kitchen, and there appeared a dinner about 
 twice as substantial as was necessary. The wine also, at most 
 houses, was served with great liberality. The table alone was 
 badly furnished, and looked poor and starved. When the 
 guests Avere ready to go into the dining-room (places, it should 
 be remarked, were not allotted) a man was told what lady he 
 had to take in, but he sat himself down where he pleased. 
 People used to pride themselves on getting a seat next to a 
 pretty and agreeable woman. When the places were all filled, 
 it was observed that opposite the lady of the house there was 
 a tureen of soup ; opposite the host, a fish. Then there were
 
 /|.8 y.'s T{emi?tiscences 
 
 four entrees, and, if you wished to be very generous, two more 
 dishes, which, because they were put one on each side of the 
 table, were called " flanks." Says the gentleman who had taken 
 in the lady of the house, " May I have the pleasure of helping 
 the soup for you ? " Poor woman, how could she say " No " ? 
 But the function was usually somewhat disastrous. Probably 
 her gentleman began to talk and pay more attention to the 
 conversation than his work. It is also not improbable that the 
 waiter was the worse for some previous imbibition, and in 
 handing the soup would pour a whole plateful down her back. 
 I don't know what ladies said on these occasions, but once when 
 a bishop was deluged with gravy he exclaimed, " Is there any 
 layman present who will express my feelings for me ? " The 
 soup disposed of, the host attacked the fish, and, if it was 
 summer-time and he was an enthusiastic slayer of salmon, he 
 made the distribution of that unfortunate fish a somewhat 
 tedious operation. Next of all, the entrees were handed ; after 
 which the remains of the soup and the fragments of the fish 
 were taken away and replaced by the inevitable boiled 
 turkey and roast haunch of mutton. Here again some un- 
 happy guest was expected to assist the lady. These dishes 
 disposed of, came a course of game — a roast hare and a dish 
 of snipes — after which an interminable procession of sweets, 
 followed by cheese and ale. As regards the liquor imbibed, 
 one began with sherry. I have heard my mother say that, 
 when she was a girl, there was a pint decanter of sherry or a 
 pint decanter of Madeira between each two persons. The wine 
 was not handed, but a gentleman who wished to be civil to the 
 lady he had taken in to dinner asked her to do him the honour 
 of drinkinc: wine with him. Towards the end of dinner a small 
 quantity of champagne was served, but I need hardly say that 
 durincT the French War there was not much of it. 
 
 By this time the dinner had lasted about two hours, and 
 the guests were beginning to long for the real business of the 
 evening, their port wine. Then the cloth was drawn, and the 
 butler went round with a napkin in his hand, begging the
 
 A Dinner 'Party 49 
 
 guests to move a little so that he could get between each pair 
 so as to belabour his beloved table and remove the stains made 
 by the hot plates and dishes. Then an elaborate dessert was 
 put on, a dessert which the lady of the house had arranged in 
 the morning and given a plan of to the local greengrocer or 
 other functionary who had been hired to look after it. By 
 this time the table had begun to look very gloomy unless the 
 host chanced to be the lucky possessor of several pairs of silver 
 or plated candlesticks, as gas, it must be remembered, was not 
 in general use. I think I have already mentioned that nothing 
 bright or pretty was permitted on the dinner table : no flowers 
 were allowed. I don't know why, but the fact remains that 
 there were no bills of fare. You were expected to eat every- 
 thing with a thankful and grateful spirit, only nothing was to be 
 allowed to interfere with the supreme duty of life, your port 
 wine. Woe to you if you were seen eating sweets. I once 
 heard an old gentleman say, " Sir, do you presume to give an 
 opinion upon port wine such as this when you have got half a 
 preserved orange in your mouth ? " The gentleman who 
 uttered this noble sentiment was a splendid specimen of a 
 bygone age. I once saw him at dinner in knee-breeches, and 
 he was almost the only person that I ever did see in that most 
 becoming costume. 
 
 When the whole party had returned to the drawing-room, 
 and the conversation was at its height, we used to have a little 
 music. What I am now about to tell you is almost incredible, 
 but I can assure my readers that I have not distorted or 
 exaggerated in any way. I have told you that no one was 
 ever asked to dinner without the almost certainty of a return 
 invitation ; but, if her room was a large one, the lady of the 
 house took care that it should be filled, and she accordingly 
 invited a certain number of ladies and gentlemen to come in 
 after dinner to play and sing for the amusement of the 
 company. They usually sang romantic and sentimental ditties : 
 the wrongs of Ireland and the woes of Greece were set forth 
 at length ; and sometimes the lady of the house herself, armed 
 
 D
 
 50 y.'s T{emi7iiscences 
 
 with that awful instrument called a concertina, used to play 
 duets with another lady, similarly provided. There was a good 
 deal of free-and-easiness in this mode of entertainment, and the 
 Heads of Colleges detested it all the more because it was 
 unfettered by any of their own rules and regulations. Instances 
 have been known of their leaving a room where such profanity 
 was permitted. These interlopers had, I know, to be fed, but 
 it was not necessary to provide them with anything very 
 luxurious. It has been estimated that four such parties, of ten 
 or twenty people each, could be given for one sovereign ! The 
 food consisted of a few sandwiches, the top of the sponge cake, 
 of which the lower part had already been consumed at dessert, 
 the fragments of the jelly, cut up and put into glasses, and a 
 little lemonade and white-wine-negus to wash it down. It 
 might have been thought almost impossible to persuade ladies 
 and gentlemen to come on these terms, but I could single out 
 two ladies especially who had no hesitation in obliging those 
 who did not scruple to entertain them in this supplementary 
 fashion. In future times the husband of one became a success- 
 ful mathematician, and the husband of the other an equally 
 successful Poll " coach."" 
 
 At this point let me tell a story. The first of the above- 
 mentioned ladies, with her husband and her family, spent two 
 or three months of a summer in a French watering-place. 
 While there they became exceedingly intimate with some 
 University people of a social rank which they considered to 
 be considerably below their own. So, a day or two before 
 leaving, the lady called on the friend whom she thought so 
 second-rate, and, after regretting that they must know so 
 little of each other in the future, said, " You see, dear Mrs. 
 So-and-so, the difl'erences in our University rank will make 
 it quite impossible for us to meet as we have done during these 
 delightful summer weeks."" Mr. II., as we will call him for 
 convenience, the husband of the lady who made this remarkable 
 statement, was among other things an exhibitor at the Exhi- 
 bition of ""51, and, in that capacity, was honoured by an
 
 ^ horning Call 51 
 
 invitation to the ball given by the City of London to the Queen 
 and the Prince Consort. Mrs. H. happened to be in deep 
 mourning for her mother, and her lady friends in Cambridge 
 were very curious to know how she would manage the difficult 
 question of dress. That she would go they felt certain ; but 
 how would she deal with the arduous question of etiquette .? 
 So, a few days afterwards, she was called upon by several of 
 her friends, who eagerly inquired what she had done. " Did 
 you go in colours, my dear .? " " Not altogether." " But, of 
 course, you could not appear before the Queen in black." "No, 
 of course I could not ; but I found a way out of the difficulty — 
 I did not take off my black silk stockings." 
 
 This same old lady used to do all the family housekeeping, 
 which was carried out in a much more simple and straight- 
 forward manner than it would be at the present day. On 
 returning from market one day, this ancient dame paid a 
 morning call, and presently, observing that her friends were 
 looking at her, she sprung to her feet, screaming " Dear me, 
 what are you all looking at ? Why, surely that must be an eel 
 on the carpet there "^ " And sure enough it was. She had in 
 the first place put it into her pocket, whence it had made its 
 escape, and was now wriggling over the drawing-room floor.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 J. AS A BOY 
 
 I NOW return to my sketch of J.'s childhood, I can find little 
 information about his private school, if indeed he ever went to 
 one. In 1844 he took lessons in Hullah's system, and was 
 " drilled by Mr. Reed " ; in April of the following year " Johnny 
 went to Mr. Woring's." Was this a private school ? In 1846 
 he was certainly learning to ride and "attending an academy " 
 — possibly of dancing — in Cambridge. 
 
 " I have never remarked,"" said Dr. Alexander, then Bishop 
 of Derry, in preaching at St. Margaret's, Westminster, on St. 
 John the Baptist, " I have never remarked that the only sons 
 of elderly parents are particularly remarkable for self-abase- 
 ment." J. was an only son and his parents were elderly. 
 
 I feel sure that he was spoilt; he indeed remained a spoilt 
 child to the end of the chapter, and although he ate but 
 sparingly, he would be humorously petulant even in later life if 
 some hostess had, in her ignorance, provided certain dishes he 
 did not like. He used to pretend they had been ordered especi- 
 ally to annoy him. As a little boy he was very lonely. His 
 father discouraged him from making friends or even acquaint- 
 ances amongst those of his own age, and a boy can't always be 
 l)othering with grown-up peoi)le and grave dons. He sometimes 
 talked to me of the tedium of his boyhood and of the restrictions 
 which in early Victorian days it was thought well to impose 
 on the vounsr. He was lonely and friendless, and I think that 
 
 fc/ try •' 
 
 both at home and at Eton he was, well — not happy. There is 
 a pathetic paragraph in a letter ^ to Mrs. Pemberton of Trump- 
 ington Hall, referring to her mother: "For me, she provided 
 1 Dated Scroope House, October 22, 1899. 
 
 52
 
 Trumpingt07t Hall 5 3 
 
 all that was pleasant in my dreary childhood. I used to look 
 forward to a visit to Trumpington under her regime as a sort 
 of paradise, where I found friends and endless pleasures denied 
 to me elsewhere." The kindness J. had received at Trumping- 
 ton Hall is further shown by the following extract from a 
 speech he made at the coming of age of Mr. Francis Pemberton 
 in 1906 :— 
 
 " Let me think — when did I first enter that dear old house, 
 which to me as a child, happy to escape from the dullness and 
 stiffness of the Cambridge of that day, seemed 'a pleasant 
 place of all festivity,' and which has never lost its charm .? It 
 was on the 10th of January 1844, and we guests, who came 
 expecting an ordinary children's party, were gladdened by the 
 sight of what was then a complete novelty, a Christmas-tree. 
 It was fixed to the centre of the dining-room floor — some of us 
 thought it grew there — and it touched the ceiling. It was 
 laden with French bonbons, and of course lighted by a pro- 
 fusion of wax tapers. French bonbons were at that period as 
 rare as Christmas-trees, and I believe that the ruins of some 
 of those which were given to me on that occasion are on my 
 chimney-piece at the present moment. 
 
 " Who were our hosts that evening ? In the first place 
 there was the owner of the estate. Colonel Pemberton, with 
 his delightful wife, whom I remember most distinctly in old 
 age, when she used to amuse us of the younger generation 
 with stories of her far-off' youth, when George the Third was 
 king. Stories did not lose in her hand ; and though I would 
 not for the world say that she was ever ill-natured, there was a 
 slight suspicion of malice in the way she turned her phrases 
 which was quite delicious. . . . 
 
 " There were present, of course, Captain and Mrs. Campbell, 
 the father and mother of our hostess to-night. Of the Captain 
 I remember little ; but Mrs. Campbell, as I still prefer to call 
 her, whom you all know as Mrs. Pemberton, was the friend of 
 my boyhood and the friend of my manhood. In a life that 
 has now grown to be a long one, I think that I never knew
 
 54 y, as a ^oy 
 
 anybody quite like her. Others may have been as clever, as 
 well-informed, as generous ; but she combined all these excel- 
 lences, and added to them a charm of manner peculiar to 
 herself, which made her a perfect hostess, and a perfect Lady 
 of the Manor. 
 
 " Nor am I likely ever to forget the boy for whom the 
 party was given — her eldest son, Frank Campbell. I was three 
 years his senior, being eleven years old when he was only 
 eight; and from that proud eminence I contemplated with 
 some jealousy his blue velvet frock, which I thought much 
 more picturesque than my own. I suppose we must have met 
 on some previous occasion ; but if so, I have quite forgotten 
 what it was. It is from that evening that I date our friend- 
 ship, which lasted unbroken until his death." 
 
 On the 19th April 1847, J. went with his mother to Eton, 
 where he entered at the house of William Johnson. On the 
 following day Johnson addressed the following letter to Dr. 
 Clark :— 
 
 Eton College, 20iA April 1847. 
 
 " Dear Sir, — I am very glad to be able to tell you that 
 your son''s examination terminated this evening success- 
 fully, as he was thought by Dr. Hawtrey fit for 'the 
 Remove,"" so that he is placed as high as any one can 
 be, and as the half-yearly promotion takes place on the 
 9th of June he will be in the fifth form unusually early. 
 . . . Yours faithfully, William Johnson.' 
 
 51 
 
 As I have said before, I do not think that during his four 
 years at Eton, J, was happy or content. He did not understand 
 other boys — how could he? The Eton life was at that time 
 rough and hard ; he had a very quick temper and was bullied, 
 and probably as he grew bigger retaliated in kind. One or 
 two friendships seem to have been nipped in the bud by the 
 interference of his elders. He had no athletic qualifications 
 such as would attract the regard of his schoolmates, and I, for 
 one, am not surprised to find in almost all the letters from
 
 Eton 5 5 
 
 school a careful estimate of the time which must elapse before 
 he could leave the place and return to Cambridge. 
 
 Later in life J. became an enthusiastic Etonian, and 
 developed a deep affection for his old school. He fittingly 
 included in the ArcMiectural History an account of its build- 
 ings. He constantly revisited the College, and served upon 
 many a committee connected with it. 
 
 J.'s tutor, William Johnson, who later changed his name 
 to Cory, was a stimulating and interesting master, and a writer 
 of delicate poems, full of thought. He was, as one who edited 
 his poems, lonica, writes, " for many boys a deeply inspiring 
 teacher ; he had the art of awakening enthusiasm, of investing 
 all he touched with a mysterious charm, the charm of wide and 
 accurate knowledge, illuminated by feeling and emotion. He 
 rebuked ignorance in a way which communicated the desire to 
 know. There are many men alive who trace the fruit and 
 flower of their intellectual life to his cenerous and free-handed 
 sowing. But in spite of the fact that the work of a teacher 
 of boys was intensely congenial to him, that he loved generous 
 boyhood, and tender souls, and awakening minds with all his 
 heart, he was not wholly in the right place as an instructor 
 of youth. He was for ever trying experiments ; he would read 
 a dozen books to enable him to give a little scientific lecture, 
 for he was one of the first to appreciate the educational value 
 of science ; he spent money on chemical apparatus, and tried 
 to interest the boys by simple demonstrations."^ 
 
 Like all men who keep diaries, Johnson not infrequently 
 bemoans his unfitness for the career he had chosen, but 
 in truth he must have had a real gift for teaching and 
 awakening the interest of boys. He retained his Fellowship 
 at King's until 1872, and on his visits to Cambridge usually 
 sought out J. On the 17th of September 1865, he takes two 
 young guests to see the Geological Museum, and " thence I 
 marched them to the Comparative Anatomy, and luckily found 
 
 ^ lonica, by William Cory, with Introduction by Arthur C. Benson 
 (London, 1905).
 
 56 y. as a ^oy 
 
 my old pupil, J. W. Clark, setting up things in the workshops, 
 probably things he had brought back from Denmark, where 
 the great Steenstrup gave him (and he showed us) a sucker of 
 the biggest of all pieuin'es.^ In a bottle he had the head of a 
 common one. He respected me for having seen a live one at 
 Nice, and for telling him the Norman name of the beast, 
 ' Minaur.' " 
 
 Again, in 1867, during one of his recurrent periods of self- 
 effacement, Johnson wa'ites : " I never call upon the Fellows 
 of Trinity except to get a lesson in anatomy from my old 
 pupil, J. VV. Clark." 2 
 
 Mr. Oscar Browning went to Eton as a Colleger in 1851, 
 and left in 1856 for the sister Foundation of King's, his gown 
 having been duly sewn up and then, as the ceremony was, 
 " ripped " by the Provost of Eton. J. came into residence at 
 Cambridge in 1852, and thus, although a little later in joining 
 and a little later in leaving Eton, Browning's career over- 
 lapped that of J., and his vivid description 3 of the life and 
 surroundings of a Colleger in the middle of the nineteenth 
 century gives some idea of the harsh conditions of life of a 
 King's Scholar at that time. The lot of the Oppidans was 
 happier, but still very different from that of the schoolboy 
 of to-day. Mr. Browning's description of the food and the 
 washing facilities in College fall somewhat behind, but as 
 regards the latter but little behind, those of Dotheboys Hall ; 
 but we must not forget that adequate baths are only now 
 being slowly provided in the Colleges of the older Universities. 
 It was only last year that a venerable Head of a House at one 
 of the older Universities,^ on the subject being broached at 
 a College meeting, exclaimed with some acerbity : " Baths ! 
 Why the young men are only up eight weeks ! " 
 
 1 Cuttle-fish. 
 
 * Extracts from the Letters andJournals of WilUum Cory (Oxford, 1897). 
 (Privately printed.) 
 
 * Memories of Sixty Years at Eton, Cambridge, and Elsewhere (London^ 
 1910). 
 
 * Not Cambridge.
 
 William yohnso7t 57 
 
 Mr. Browning had a very keen appreciation of the teach- 
 ing and the influence of William Johnson, " one of the ablest 
 men who ever devoted his great powers to the service of 
 education." 
 
 J. boarded with his tutor, who then held the boarding- 
 house on the southern side of the second archway on the left, 
 after you have passed Barnes Pool Bridge going towards 
 College. Originally this house was part of the old 
 Christopher Inn, the stables of which, on both sides and at 
 the end of the yard, were for years used as livery stables by 
 Charley Wise, 'pere et Jils. After J. had left, Johnson passed 
 on house and boys to his brother-in-law, the Rev. F. Vidal, 
 remaining himself a lodger, and to some extent also a boarder. 
 His sister, Mrs. Vidal, was a lady of some distinction as a 
 writer. 
 
 During the Easter Vacation of his first year at Eton, 
 J. dined at the High Table in Trinity with Professor 
 Sedgwick, always, like Thackeray, a kindly friend to boys. 
 I wonder if they had rump-steak and apricot omelette, 
 which the latter considered, to be the proper food for his 
 schoolboy friends. 
 
 Some scores of letters have come down to us written by 
 Mrs. Clark to J. at school, and as many from the schoolboy 
 to his parents. His father wrote less often, but always in an 
 affectionate manner, and ever showing a deep interest in 
 his boy's studies and an intense wish that he should make good 
 progress. 
 
 Mrs. Clark was a most spirited letter-writer. She was as 
 outspoken as Mrs. Drunmiond-Ogilvy of Allardyce, Catriona's 
 kinswoman, and her letters have the same quality of frankness. 
 If I were attempting to write her life and not her son's, I 
 should wish, instead of quoting a few sentences, to reprint 
 them all and in full. Except for a few affectionate phrases, 
 such as "My dear little boy'" and "don't get up a fit of 
 measles to coax Mummy down to Eton," she writes to her 
 son of fourteen as if he were, to say the least of it, grown
 
 58 y. as a T^oy 
 
 up. She was a keen horse-woman, and discusses her horses 
 at great length with him : — 
 
 2Qth February 1848. 
 
 "The horses are in excellent order. We have struck 
 out some new rides lately, but fear they will be ploughed 
 up before you come. You will remember a field on Shel- 
 ford Common, near Dr. Kitling's, in which we used to get 
 a gallop last year. We turned into that the other day 
 and followed a field road in excellent order, which brought 
 us out at Hauxton Gate ; we then turned round and 
 i;ook off in another direction, and came out at Shelford, 
 opposite Mr. Twiss's. Another day we tried a field about 
 half-way on the far round, and came out below Lord 
 Godolphin's. 
 
 " A new fair Equestrian has appeared, about whom I am 
 very curious. She rides a dipt horse of bad action, humps 
 fearfully (nay, flies from her saddle at least a foot) in a 
 canter, and is accompanied by a gentleman (not a good 
 rider) and a large black dog. They neither of them 
 appear to have any hand on a horse, but straggle about 
 in a strange manner. They passed me on Parker's Piece 
 near the Gaol. I thought they were making for the 
 University Arms, when lo ! I discovered they meant to 
 go through the posts to Downing Terrace ! ! ! Papa 
 would call this ' crossing the country. "" " 
 
 20th June 1848. 
 
 " I send you the Post Office order for the sum you 
 named, and it is, as before, in your Papa's name. At the 
 same time I must tell you we do not quite approve of your 
 boating, nor are we without our fears for your safety. 
 You are so inexperienced a swimmer that it is not to be 
 expected you could save yourself hi your clothes, which you 
 must know add considerably to your difficulty, and then, 
 as you are so unaccustomed to the management of a boat, 
 there is every fear that you may not be always able to 
 keep your balance. 
 
 " I shall be sorry if you take to boating as many lads 
 do, because I think it injurious to the health and produc- 
 tive of idleness : still, of course, in moderation there is no 
 objection to it, and you know I should wish you to be
 
 Letters from Ho7ne 59 
 
 able to do everytliing. Cricket, I suspect, you will never 
 follow, but I hope you will always prefer ruling to any 
 other amusement, and hunt (if railroads do not destroy 
 the country too much) when you can ! ! 
 
 " I hope you will not give up swimming and bathing 
 now that you have passed, as the first requires practice 
 and the latter is good for your health. 
 
 "We took our last ride on Saturday; it was a sultry 
 day, and by the time we had walked to Trumpington the 
 clouds threatened a storm. We turned back, came along 
 the Fen, till deterred by a hand of Savages, went to 
 Trumpington again, along the cross road to the gate^and 
 then home." 
 
 Mrs. Clark was an enthusiastic gardener and a very success- 
 ful exhibitor at the local flower-shows. She spent hours in 
 her garden, and was particularly successful with roses. When 
 there were no flowers to tend, she would spend the afternoon 
 in the vinery "painting stakes." In her letters to J. there 
 is almost always some reference to the garden, and to her J. 
 certainly owed his talent for cultivating flowers and his passion 
 for roses. 
 
 Another feature of Mi's. Clark's correspondence is the gusto 
 with which she describes social events and little local scandals. 
 As a sample, I may quote from a letter dated the 20th of 
 February 1849 :— 
 
 " We have been very gay, Mrs. Williams gave a very 
 nice party on Friday; the following day Dr. Fisher had a 
 ball — this was not so much to my taste as the company 
 was not very select, and seats were very scarce. On 
 Thursday Mrs. Prest had a ball, very well managed 
 indeed ; the drawing-room carpet was covered with that 
 unbleached linen which is so much used now, stretched 
 quite tight. The only drawback to the pleasure was that 
 the house shook so fearfully ; and the windows rattled so, 
 that it could only be compared to a sto?-m at sea. Many 
 expected the floor to sink ; it was impossible to sit at the 
 end near the fire-place. I fully expected the dining-room 
 ceiling would have fallen in ; however, it all went off* well. 
 
 "There was to be another grand ball in Downing last
 
 6o y. as a ^oy 
 
 night, at Mrs. G.'s ; you may perhaps remember she lost 
 her husband , . . thirteen months since. She has now 
 laid aside her wido\v''s cap, and, to the great scandal of all 
 steady people, dances with anybody, dresses in zahite, and 
 has now given a ball. 
 
 " Our Ray ^ on Wednesday was very good indeed, 22 
 in all. Professor Camming came for a meeting at Trinity 
 Lodge on Thursday. 
 
 " Mr. Cartmell was elected Master of Christ's on Thurs- 
 day ; we called on him yesterday; it is reported that he 
 is going to be married." 
 
 In this case rumour proved to be correct, but even now 
 everyone seems to expect that the moment a man is made 
 Master he should rush out and marry the first maid he meets. 
 
 Later in life there were times when Mrs. Clark fought J. 
 with all the vigour and tenacity with which the implacable 
 old IVIrs. Knox of Aussolas fought her grandson, Flurry ; but 
 all through her life (again like old Mrs. Knox) she fought her 
 servants with amazing acrimony and vigour, and with such 
 success that time after time she put them all to flight, and she 
 
 ^ As this letter contains the first mention of the Ray Club, it is well 
 to give a short account of a Club which has played no small part in the 
 advancement of Science in the University during the last three-quarters 
 of a century. Tlie Club had its beginnings in certain " Friday evenings" 
 held during full term in Professor Henslow's rooms from 1829 until the 
 end of 183(5. These "evenings" were frequented by both senior and 
 junior members of the University interested in Science. On their dis- 
 continuance, they left a void, and early in 1837 certain senior members 
 of the University, prominent amongst whom were Mr. C. C. (later 
 Professor) IJabington and l\Ir. (later Professor Sir G. E. ) Paget, 
 resolved " to form a Society for the cultivation of Natural Science by 
 means of friendly intercourse and mutual instruction." Rules were 
 drawn up limiting the number of members to twelve, and at the first 
 meeting of the Club it was decided to call it after " the celebrated John 
 Ray," the great Trinity naturalist. The Club met once a week, and dined 
 annually on the 29th November, "the supposed natal day of John Ray," 
 in the rooms of one of its members. In 1842 certain rules were added to 
 the original " Laws " admitting a defined number of undergraduate and 
 bachelor members, and these new rules have proved of the utmost benefit 
 to the Club.
 
 Letters from Home 6 1 
 
 and Dr. Clark were left in their hour of victory alone on the 
 field of battle, dependent for the commissariat department on 
 the intermittent attentions of a casual charwoman. Much of 
 Mrs. Clark's correspondence dwells in detail on the delin- 
 quencies of her staff, but these letters are scarcely worth 
 reproducing. After a devastating encounter, when all the 
 men-servants but the gardener were routed, and the females 
 put out of action, Mrs. Clark writes to J. (6th March 1848): — 
 
 " I forgot to tell you our arrangements. William 
 pumps and cleans boots ; papa brushes my habit and his 
 own clothes, lights lamps, and very often shuts the 
 shutters. I do most of the errands and open and shut 
 bedroom windows, &c., and Eliza does everything else. 
 Ray answers the front door, but does not, I find, take 
 the trouble to ask anyone for their name. Mrs. Kidd 
 cooks joints and makes pies, and we live on them till 
 she comes again. Kay shows a great inclination to 
 muddle about in the kitchen, which I dislike and dis- 
 courage, but, I fear, do not prevent. Don't comment 
 on her conduct in your letter, as papa is sufficiently 
 annoyed by it without being reminded. We neither of 
 us think she will stay long, and really her constant ill- 
 health makes it little desirable, as she is always under 
 Dr. Bond's care." 
 
 And on 20th February 1850 :— 
 
 "The new housemaid arrived on Thursday. She is 
 short, and so tight-laced that scrubbing seems to take 
 away her breath. She appeared in a very pretty, gay- 
 looking gown, a very long waist, with an absurdly long 
 peak, a little mousseVine de laine apron, very full, a scarlet 
 neck ribband with long ends, and a very smart cap. Of 
 course I read a long lecture on dress and had the neck-tie 
 removed. She told Higgs she had always been accus- 
 tomed to wear one of an afternoon, and a velvet in the 
 morning — a genteel undress ! ! " 
 
 The following letters give a very spirited account of the 
 festivities in connection with the Prince Consort's installa- 
 tion. Although the letters are long they are worth printing,
 
 62 y, as a ^oy 
 
 as they give a contemporary record of what must have 
 been a very great occasion in the University, and reveal 
 many features of Cambridge life in the middle of the last 
 century : — 
 
 4<A July 1847. 
 
 " We are all in bustle and confusion. Cambridge seems 
 turned upside down. Up to last night there was nothing 
 to be seen but paint pots, ladders, and every symptom of 
 cleaning and ornamenting. . . . 
 
 " There is a splendid triumphal arch at the end of the 
 hospital grounds, where the pavement ceases. ... It is 
 nearly as high as the houses, and it is intended to screen 
 the Fitzwilliam so that Her Majesty when she emerges 
 from the arch may be astonished at the unexpected effect. 
 
 " To-morrow I am to go with Mrs. Fisher to the gallery 
 at ten. Papa will go at twelve to Trinity to receive Her 
 jNIajesty. . . . After dinner I must cut roses and make up 
 my bouquet till dark. At ten we go to Parker's Piece to 
 see the fireworks. 
 
 " On Tuesday I must finish my flowers by nine — there is 
 then the Senate House from half-past ten. At two there 
 will be the Horticultural Fete in Downing, and at six 
 we are to dine in Trinity College Hall with Her Majesty. 
 The party will necessarily be very limited. It is confined 
 to the ladies of the Heads of Houses and Professors. We 
 are to meet in the Combination Koom, where Mr. Carus 
 will receive us, and when dinner is announced he will 
 marshall us hoo and two. The Chamberlain will then 
 announce the Queen, and we are to receive her standing — ■ 
 after dinner we are to retire to Mr. Carus' room till nine, 
 when we are to be presented to Her Majesty. 
 
 " On Monday Her Majesty is to dine at Catharine Hall : 
 they have taken down the gates to enable her to drive 
 into the Court : she is to be received at the door of the 
 Lodge by Mrs. Phil pott, who is to precede her upstairs 
 walking backwards all the way into the drawing room." 
 
 J. always dearly loved a function and he nmst have 
 regretted his absence from Cambridge at the Installation. On 
 6th July he wrote to his mother as follows : —
 
 The l7tstallatio7i of i^^y 63 
 
 " My dearest Mummy, — I forgot to tell you in my last 
 letter that Mrs. Okes ^ was so kind as to send for me to 
 breakfast with her on my birthday, as it was a whole 
 holiday. After breakfast she took me and another boy 
 who was breakfasting there also round the gai'den, and 
 then brouo-ht us in and showed us some books of eng-rav- 
 ings and her cabinet of shells. She says I may go and see 
 her whenever I like. My birthday, I assure you, was 
 miserable enough away from home. 
 
 "I think you will have a splendid Installation; I only 
 wish I was there to see it. The weather here is perfectly 
 roasting; the evenings are beautiful. I often think of 
 our happy summer evenings together, and wish I was at 
 home, which in less than three weeks I shall be. Only 
 think, we are to come back on the 4th of September, not 
 quite six weeks. 
 
 " I get on very well with my swimming; I shall be able 
 to pass in about a fortnight. ... I long for your news- 
 paper and account of the Installation. — Believe me, your 
 affectionate little John Willis Clark." 
 
 Here is his mother's account of the function, dated 8th July 
 1847:— 
 
 " My dear little Boy, — The bustle is at length over 
 and all has gone off well and satisfactorily. We have 
 ordered a newspaper for you which you will get on Satur- 
 day afternoon. 
 
 " Monday. — Got up at six to cut roses, arranged 
 about half in their respective places and put them in the 
 cellar; breakfasted, dressed, and joined Mr. Fisher's party 
 at ten ; from thence we went in a carriage to the Directors'* 
 gallery to see her Majesty arrive. There was an erection 
 under the colonnade at the railway station. The royal 
 carriages waited in front of us, and as the day was splendid 
 the carriages were all open. The room through which we 
 passed was covered with crimson cloth for her Majesty to 
 pass through. The Mayor and Corporation received her 
 
 ^ The wife of Richard Okes, at this time Lower Master of Eton, later 
 Provost of Kiug's.
 
 64 y- ^s <^i '^oy 
 
 on the platform and preceded her to Trinity Lodge. 
 There were two very handsome galleries on each side of 
 the road close to the station and flags flying and lesser 
 galleries in every direction. The Pensioners and Whittle- 
 sea Yeomanry came to meet her and also the Guards to 
 clear the way. I forgot to mention that the High Sheriff 
 in a full court-dress, Lord Hardwicke in uniform as Lord- 
 Lieutenant, and Lord Godolphin as High Steward were 
 also in attendance. Papa went to the court of Trinity 
 College to present the address. From the railway I went 
 to the Senate House ; about three o'clock Prince Albert 
 arrived and was met at the door by the V^ice-Chancellor, 
 Beadles, &c., and led to the platform where the ceremony 
 of installing him took place ; a short time after her Majesty 
 arrived. The Prince went to meet her and conducted her 
 to a chair prepared for the occasion ; she was accompanied 
 bv the Duchess of Sutherland and Lady Desart. She 
 looked very pleased ; at six she dined in Catharine Hall — 
 I arranged a bouquet for the show. 
 
 " Tuesday. — Went to the Senate House at nine, having 
 previously despatched my plants ; no one got in after 
 eight ; some were on the steps at five — hundreds were in 
 the Senate House square where we enjoyed air at least. 
 The Queen and Prince Albert were there to hear the Ode,^ 
 &c. At two we went to Downing where there were eight 
 thousand persons. ... At six we went to dinner — this 
 was very elegant and well managed. The ladies hand- 
 somely dressed, and everybody delighted. We assembled 
 in the Combination Room and were taken to our places 
 in the Hall by noblemen. I had a capital place. After we 
 were all placed her Majesty and Suite came in; grace was 
 said by the Master and Professor Sedgwick, and then we 
 sat down to dinner. When the Royal Party left the Hall 
 the ladies retired to jVIr. Cams"' rooms under the clock till 
 nine, when we went to the Lodge for the Presentation. 
 . . . Very affectionately yours, M. Clark." 
 
 Mrs. Clark's lively pen was equally capable of sketching the 
 characters of her guests and of her hosts, and all for the benefit 
 of her boy at school : — 
 
 ' Written for the occasion by William NVordsworth.
 
 Cambriage Gossip 6 5 
 
 20^A February 1850. 
 
 " We are alive, which you will be surprised at when I 
 
 tell you of our dissipation. Mr. A came on Saturday ; 
 
 Sunday, he and Papa dined at Caius ; on Tuesday we 
 dined at Emmanuel Lodge ; Wednesday, a party of thirteen 
 at home ; Thursday, dined at Trinity Lodge ; Friday, a 
 
 party of fourteen at home ; Saturday, Mr. A left us. 
 
 Papa is quite worn-out, and said it seemed so different 
 to our usual routine of every day alike ! ! ! 
 
 " Mr. A returns on Saturday for another week. 
 
 Papa is very tired of him ; he takes a great deal of room, 
 knocks things over, spills the ink, spoils the pens, brings 
 in a great deal of dirt, drops jelly and gravy on the table- 
 cloth, and handles books so roughly that he dislocates 
 the leaves ... he is also an eternal talker in a low voice, 
 which requires all your attention. . . . 
 
 " Papa would not let me go to the Bachelors'" Ball ; but 
 I hear it was a very good one, and there were no falls. 
 
 " Mrs. H dined with us on Friday ; her dress was 
 
 so decolletce that we were quite shocked ; her shoulders were 
 out all the time, and when she moved I saw under her 
 arm ; it was white silk with a very thin black lace Par- 
 dessus over it. She must be a very strange kind of saint ; 
 I wonder if she has a tract on modesty. . . ." 
 
 Beyond the meagre record that on 15th March, Johnny was 
 " second in trials," I can find out little for 1850, except that 
 Mrs. Clark, as usual, took several prizes at horticultural shows 
 for her roses and other flowers. The family must have been 
 at Eyemouth in August, because there and then she " sketched 
 a rock resembling a peacock on one side and a judge on the 
 other."''' They also visited Scotland, 
 
 Her description of the househoki of a friend with whom 
 they stayed on their way to Guiseley would serve for the 
 " argument " of a Jane Austen novel ; — 
 
 2mh September 1848. 
 
 " I am glad to be able to tell you that we are once 
 more at Guiseley, for though I believe the M 's were 
 
 E
 
 66 y. as a ^oy 
 
 glad to see us, I did not altogether enjoy my visit — 
 their perpetual quarrels, his scolding his wife and children, 
 and her indifference to everyone's comfort wearied me 
 extremely. Then the perpetual going in and out of 
 the room, the doors and windows open, and the making 
 and altering of plans of amusement, with the children 
 practising in the drawing-room all the morning, kept 
 one in a perpetual fever. 
 
 " Papa is quite an old man, obstinate, cross and self- 
 willed. 
 
 "Mamma is much aged in appearance, her hair as grey 
 as your grandmother's, still wearing no cap, and dressing in 
 short sleeves and neck in the fashion of twenty 3'ears ago. 
 
 "Emma is a sweet girl, very quiet, sensible, fond 
 of reading, desirous of information, but lamentably near- 
 sighted ; kind, amiable, and obliging. 
 
 " Mary is forward, pert, childish, idle, and Mamma's 
 favourite. 
 
 " George is very short, a fine healthy idle boy. They 
 have taken him away from the preparatory school in their 
 own neighbourhood and are undecided as to where he 
 is to go. Mamma hates all schools and wishes for a Curate 
 who shall act as tutor ; in the meantime the boy is ruined : 
 he does as he likes and bullies Papa and Mamma, as in- 
 deed they all do." 
 
 As a further example of Mrs. Clark's troubles with her 
 servants, I quote the following from a letter written from 
 Cambridge, 28th October 1849 :— 
 
 " I am tolerable, but worried to death — the Cook 
 turned rest'roe on Tuesday and was worse on Wednesday, 
 telling me that she should not attend to my orders — on 
 Thursday she was dismissed. The Housemaid, who is to 
 leave at the end of her month, pretends to do everything 
 and neglects all — she is an impudent, violent, Tinock- about 
 woman — you may always know where she is by the noise 
 she makes. We had Peck's men from Wednesday to 
 Friday, lime-washing the kitchens and larders, and a 
 Charwoman to clean after them ; to-day we have had Mrs. 
 Kidd to cook a joint, and Papa cannot decide what to do 
 about the Groom ; if he stays his clothes must be ordered
 
 Cambridge Gossip 67 
 
 — he is most odious, will only do what his master desires, 
 attends to no messages, and eats enormously!! Papa has 
 been for a ride to-day to see whether he can clean a horse 
 and turn one out well. I saw he was disgusted with the 
 Groom going in to tea and leaving the horse untouched. 
 
 Then there is a perpetual battle with B ; with all his 
 
 horror at Dall not having propagated Verbenas, Helio- 
 tropes, etc., he has done likewise ; and had the impudence 
 to tell me to-day that it answered quite as well or better 
 in February, just the time when Dall left. The grass is so 
 long I dare not go upon it ; and the apples having been 
 allowed to fall off are rotting in the chamber. Our 
 anemone-seed has not come up, for it has never been 
 watered." 
 
 The following gossiping letter gives a curious account of 
 
 the social life in the University in the middle of the last 
 
 century : — 
 
 ^Uh May 1851. 
 
 "... We have had rather a busy week. On Tuesday 
 there was a Horticultural Show — nothing worth looking 
 at. We afterwards dined at Emmanuel Lodge. On 
 Wednesday the Ray — a very pleasant meeting — seventeen 
 altogether, and they made a very good tea. On Thursday 
 we dined at Dr. Bond's — this was a ' triste affaire."' 
 They had had many disappointments. Professor Maine 
 was called to town — Mrs. Duffield was not well enough to 
 come — Mr. Frere of Cottenham was taken very ill at his 
 uncle's at Bury St. Edmunds of scarlet fever a few days 
 before, and I am sorry to say died on Tuesday. This had 
 distressed them very much. A few had been asked to come 
 in in the evening, but John Parry was singing, and Mrs. 
 C. Francis had a ball which interfered sadly. The room 
 was very hot, and we were all very dull. 
 
 " On Friday we had a very small party at Christ's 
 
 Lodge — Mrs. H came out in silver-grey satin with 
 
 black lace flounces and a white cap with marabout 
 feathers ! ! The young ladies in pink silk. By the by, 
 they are reckoning very much on his being knighted. 
 He had the bad taste to say to Isabella Gumming the 
 other day that he hoped it might be so, that his wife 
 might go before the old woman at Trinity ! ! "
 
 68 y. as a ^oy 
 
 J.'s letters home were those of a boy who had spent most 
 of his time with older people, and this life with his elders was 
 one of the causes which tended to isolate him from his school- 
 companions. Sixty-five years ago English boys matured earlier 
 than they do now, and the following letters of J. to his mother 
 seem to me to show some evidence of this ; — 
 
 28th April 1847. 
 
 " My clock goes very well and is ver}' useful ; I keep 
 the key in my desk for safety. I am very glad the 
 enemy has been discomfited and that our sweet-scented 
 China has got a prize. On Sunday we get up at eight 
 and have to be down in the pupil-room at half-past, 
 where Mr. Johnson explains to us the Epistle and Gospel 
 and compares them with the Greek ; when we have done 
 this we go and breakfast, and at half-past ten go to Church, 
 out of which we get at half -past twelve ; at half-past one 
 we dine, and go again to Church at three ; we come out at 
 four, and do what we like till tea-time at six, after which 
 we have to answer the questions I enclose you on the 
 Epistle and Gospel ; at ten we have prayers, and then go to 
 bed. . . . 
 
 " I like Eton neither better nor worse than when you 
 saw me ; I think perhaps I am not so much plagued as 
 formerly. , . . 
 
 " The temporary Chapel is a most flimsy erection, and 
 I think will soon fall. Several of the seats were broken 
 last Sunday. The old one will be finished about 
 October. 
 
 " I have been counting up the time to the holidays ; we 
 have thirteen weeks last Monday, or ninety days. 
 
 " I got into an awful scrape yesterday. I was out 
 walking with another boy when we saw a gentleman at 
 some distance. Not thinking he was a Master, we pursued 
 our walk, but as soon as we got near him he stopped us, 
 asked our names and told us to come to him at a quarter 
 past six, which we did. He only gave us a long lecture 
 and told us we ought to have ' shirked."" " ^ 
 
 ^ If a boy meets a master, out of bounds, he is expected to go, quite 
 formally, behind a tree or hedge.
 
 His Letters from Eton 69 
 
 J. does not often mention his schoolfellows, but in a letter 
 written on returning to Eton for the autumn half in 1847 we 
 learn some of their names. Mrs. Clark took her boy back to 
 Eton at the beginning of the autumn term, and J.'s first letter 
 to her shows he was settling down at the school ; — 
 
 Uh September 1847. 
 
 " After you left me I went in to seek Mr. Johnson, but 
 I found he was out. Ward ^ said that there was no 
 absence and that I might come in almost when I liked. I 
 gave Ward some fruit for him. I went to Mrs. Okes's 
 afterwards and spent a very pleasant day there. . . . 
 
 "... I suppose Mrs. Welsh's poorliness arose from her 
 grief at parting with me. 
 
 " Clarke,^ to my great delight, is messing with Glad- 
 stone,^ but I believe when Alderson ■* comes back he will 
 cease to do so. I gave him to understand that I did not 
 mean to mess with him. At present I am messing with 
 Crawford^ but I fear it is only temporary. Vivian^ has 
 gone to his room on the other side of the house, but, not 
 liking it, he has come back again and I am afraid he will 
 not let me mess with him. On Sunday I refused to go 
 down on my knees when Gladstone ordered me and endured 
 several blows which I warded off. I have not known the 
 least fear at any one, 
 
 "... Football has not yet begun ; there were hardly 
 half a dozen boys in the playing-fields. Mytton ' says it 
 won't begin till the cold weather gets in. I will play most 
 vigorously when it does." 
 
 During the summer of 1851 there was some discussion as 
 to whether J. should remain for a fifth year at Eton or return 
 
 1 J. M. Ward, K.S., Fellow of King's College. 
 ^ Capt. H. L. W. Clarke, 2.3rd Fusiliers. 
 
 ^ Robert Gladstone, who became Chairman of the Mersey Docks and 
 Harbour Board. 
 
 * F. J. Alderson, son of E. H. Alderson, Baron of the Exchequer. 
 ^ Oswald J. F. Crawford, C.M.G., Consul at Oporto, author. 
 « Probably Lt.-Col. Sir Arthur P. Vivian, K.C.B. 
 ' Capt. D. H. Mytton of the 85th Regiment.
 
 70 y, as a ^oy 
 
 to Cambridge and " coach " in mathematics and classics. On 
 the 13th of July Dr. Clark wrote to him from Cambridge the 
 following letter : — 
 
 "... It seems to me now that you are gaining with 
 rapidity the advantages of Eton, and I feel as sorry as 
 you can do that, according to our present plan, you are so 
 soon to lose them. It is however not too late to re- 
 consider this, and to contrast the only two ways in which 
 I think you can profitably spend a year before coming to 
 Cambridge. One way is to pass the whole or part of that 
 year at Eton, with Mr. Johnson — the other is to reside 
 with us, and have the best University Tutors I can pro- 
 cure, one in mathematics, the other in classics. If you 
 are in Cambridge, you must resolve to have as little 
 intercourse as possible with any undergraduates. For it 
 has always been found an immense disadvantage and 
 drawback to a man to have formed the habits of the 
 University before belonging to it. For these habits, in 
 such cases, are not the habits which pertain to study, but 
 to amusements and those not of the most unexceptionable 
 kind. Therefore it is to be considered how far you 
 resolve on what may be painful to deny yourself, the 
 pleasure of intercourse with those whom you may have 
 been intimate with at Eton, and who are coming here next 
 October. ... If you spend some part of the next year 
 at Eton, you will have the great advantage of Mr. 
 Johnson"'s scholarship, when you can benefit from it at 
 a much greater rate than you have hitherto done. 
 But then, you must also attend the Mathematical Tutor 
 there. 
 
 " It strikes me that, on considering these two different 
 modes of passing the next year, and on comparing the 
 benefits likely to arise from each as a preparation for 
 College, you will incline to the Eton plan. I do not 
 decide upon either, because I wish you to select that 
 which you like best — not I hope for the pleasure and ease 
 of it, but for the advantage. The advantage will, in a 
 good degree, depend upon your liking any plan." 
 
 But J. had apparently already made up his mind, for on 
 the 6th of June, in describing a visit the Queen had made to
 
 His Inciters from Eton 7 1 
 
 the College on the 4th, he says, " She has got us an extra week, 
 which does not matter to me in the least,'''' and he adds, " The 
 Queen delighted the whole school by coming in a dress of Eton 
 blue silk. It was certainly very thoughtful of her, but I hear 
 she always does think of those things." 
 
 One or two more extracts from J.'s letters must bring to 
 a close his Eton life : — 
 
 \2,th June 1851. 
 
 " I have written to you thus out of my usual time to 
 enquire whether or not you are going to the Horticultural 
 Show on the 21st, because I want to come too, and I 
 thought that it would be better to write early to settle it 
 that there might be no confusion. I take it for granted 
 that if we are in London we go to the Opera ! ! ! 
 Sutton ^ has been sending me such an account of the 
 Fidelio that I am on the qui vive to hear it. I hope you 
 will answer this by return of post and say whether you 
 are going, because if you are not I should then find out 
 whether there is opera on Monday the 23rd, because if 
 there is I should like to accept Sutton^s invitation of going 
 with him, and here I should have to communicate with 
 you again for a letter to get me leave. I add a letter 
 to Dr. Haw trey. You see I have specified that we mean 
 to keep Sunday properly, but I dare say I shall be obliged 
 to be back at Eton in time for morning Church, which 
 will be quite easy as it is not till half-past ten." 
 
 Here is the added letter. One wonders if Dr. Hawtrey 
 considered Westminster Abbey an equivalent for morning 
 Chapel : — 
 
 " Mrs. Clark presents her Compliments to Dr. Hawtrey, 
 and would be much obliged to him if he will give her son 
 leave, from after two-o'clock school on Saturday the 21st 
 till Sunday evening, to accompany her to the Horticultural 
 Fete in the Regent's Park, and on Sunday to Westminster 
 Abbey. Should Dr. H. object to giving her son leave for 
 Sunday, Mrs. C. will take care he returns to Eton in time 
 for morning service." 
 
 ^ Probably the Venerable Robert Sutton, Archdeacou of Lewes.
 
 72 y. as a ^oy 
 
 lUh July 1851. 
 
 "Many thanks for your nice letter. ... I have got 
 twelve leaving books — very nice ones too. Mr. Johnson 
 has given me Pensees de Pascal (the fourth copy we 
 possess !) also De la Beche's Geological Observer, and 
 Stanley's sermons. 
 
 " There was a most extraordinary animal exhibited here 
 during the week of the Agricultural Show. They called 
 it a Chinese pig, but I do not think it was one, I fancy it 
 was something of the Coypu nature ; it had a broad flat 
 head, with the flesh hanging down on each side, a broad 
 mouth something like a hippopotamus, and pinkish tusks 
 that turned round into his gums again. On the back the 
 skin lay on the flesh like that of any other animal, but 
 underneath it hung down like a large bag to the ground, 
 and also in a sort of frill round the legs. The shoulder- 
 blade felt like a piece of mill-board stuck on to the skin; 
 you could pull it a little to each side, it was as hard as 
 a board, his tail was like a pig's — he was almost three feet 
 and a half long and proportionably tall ; they said he had 
 been Ave years in England, was in good health, but ate 
 very sparingly. He seemed very happy, and quite tame." ^ 
 
 The following undated letter gives a vivid picture of 
 William Johnson : — 
 
 "This week has been considerably enlivened by a 
 water-party that came ofl' yesterday, when JVIr. Johnson 
 took all the fifth form in his house up to Marlow and 
 back, a distance of 15 miles there ; in all 30. As in 
 most parties by water it rained until 2 in the after- 
 noon, so having started at 10 in the morning we were 
 tolerably wet, but as we were rowing all the time and 
 had had dry things sent up by the provision cart it 
 did not much matter. We stopped to lunch at Clieve- 
 den, a place famous for beautiful woods overhanging 
 the river. There we had immense fun, in finding a nest 
 
 ^ Mr. R. Lydekker has kindly suggested to me that this amazing 
 animal was ])robably a specimen of the Japan or Masked Pig, described 
 and illustrated by Darwin in his Aiiimala and Flants under Domestication, 
 vol. i, pp. 72 and 73.
 
 ^ Water-Tarty 73 
 
 of stoats under a large heap of planks. It was a very 
 curious sight when the planks were turned over to see the 
 stoats' larder. There were quantities of young rabbits 
 and a partridge's leg, besides debris in the shape of 
 fur and skin, &c. We, after a long chasse in which 
 Mr. Johnson assisted most enthusiastically in dragging 
 away the planks, succeeded in killing six large stoats, 
 which we placed in a barrow that was lying there, and 
 wrote a note which we stuck into a forked stick to say 
 who and what we were and wherefore we had disturbed 
 the planks. It had now become fair and we proceeded 
 on our voyage. We wanted to reach Seymour Court, 
 where a friend of Mr. Johnson's was to give us house- 
 room to dine in ; we were directed to it, moored our 
 boats, and walked about a mile inland to a grand 
 house which proved the wrong one. AVe had to trudge 
 back and man our boats again. I had pulled up to 
 this point, but what with fasting, rowing, and walking 
 I was so tired I lay down in the stern while one of the 
 supernumeraries, one of which was to each boat, took 
 my place. After another mile we reached our right 
 Court, and were conveyed in flys up to it. We then 
 put on dry things and sat down to dinner. I was that 
 hungry I could have eaten Mr. Johnson himself; we had 
 an excellent dinner, and about an hour after, i.e. about 
 half-past seven, for we had not dined till six, started 
 down again. By this time I was not the least tired 
 and pulled all the way back easily. We reached Eton 
 about eleven." 
 
 It is difficult to measure the progress J. made at Eton, 
 Mr. Johnson writes to his father every half, but writes so 
 diplomatically that it is not easy to see just what was going 
 on. At the end of 1847 he says : " Your son has made on 
 the whole what appears to me satisfactory progress during 
 the schooltime, and Mr. Durnford gives a good account of 
 him. ... I find him a very tractable pupil, and if he was 
 in another house I should have nothing but pleasant inter- 
 course with him. . . . Though unwilling to make any general 
 assertion, I feel myself bound to state that he is not treated 
 with respect by his companions, and I think he is the worse
 
 74- jf' ^s ^ ^oy 
 
 for his school experience. Yet I am inchned to believe that 
 he will in due time get more power to suppress what makes 
 him at present so unlike the others." 
 
 The isolation of his childhood, and the fact that both 
 parents spoiled him, largely accounts for his temper, which I 
 take it is a shorter Avay of expressing Mr. Johnson's " what 
 makes him so unlike the others." Still, apart from his 
 temper, which was quick and at times passionate throughout 
 his life, J. always was " unlike the others." 
 
 In April 1848 his tutor writes to Dr. Clark that he has 
 " received from Mr. Carter a satisfactory report of your son's 
 proceedings in his Division, though he has not shown power 
 enough to reach the ordinary object of ambition, being 'sent 
 up for good.' " He seems to have " learnt all his lessons 
 and done all his exercises with uniform industry and with an 
 encouraging amount of success.'' IVIr. Johnson proceeds : 
 " He has been in my room more than he used to be, of his 
 own accord — this has been satisfactory," and concludes his 
 letter by saying " that his social position in my house is 
 more satisfactory than it was, and is likely to be still more 
 so, as he and his companions get older." A year later 
 (April 1849) he writes that in spite of J.'s great activity 
 and eagerness to learn and improve, he does not maintain 
 his early promise of scholarship and is deficient in grammatical 
 accuracy. Still, in his desire to learn " he gives me a good 
 deal more encouragement than other boys of harder heads. 
 I think he makes more use of me than almost any pupil I 
 have." This last sentence is significant. 
 
 Writing in March 1850, Mr. Johnson says : " I have been 
 cheered at a time of general disappointment by a little pros- 
 perity in the recent important examination, in which your 
 son made a greater start than anyone else and was very 
 highly spoken of by Mr. Cookesley and by Dr. Hawtrey." 
 Still, the tutor mistrusted J.'s power of keeping the place 
 so won, and modestly thinks the fault may be his. At any 
 rate his failure "to master the Greek and Latin idioms"
 
 His Vale 75 
 
 and his indifference to " the rules of Syntax " seemed to 
 mark him out as one who would never be a pure Classic. 
 Indeed, I think J. ever cared more for the matter than the 
 manner of a book. 
 
 J.'s " Vale " on leaving Eton lies before me. It contains 
 all the proper sentiments in the rather poor, self-conscious 
 doggerel of one whose medium was never verse. It would 
 be unfair to quote from it. He left at the end of the summer 
 "school-time," 1851.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 FOREIGN TRAVEL AND COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 From the time J, left Eton until he went into residence at 
 Trinity College in October 1852, I gather that he was chiefly 
 at home either in Cambridge or at Guiseley, and was very fully 
 occupied in preparing for his entrance and other examinations. 
 In July 1852 he started abroad with Mr. H. A. Holden 
 (1822-96), who was bracketed Senior Classic in 1845 and 
 was at the time of their tour Fellow and Assistant Tutor 
 of Trinity. In 1853 Holden was appointed Vice-Principal of 
 Cheltenham College, and five years later Headmaster of Queen 
 Elizabeth's School, Ipswich. He was well known as a man 
 of culture and an assiduous editor of the classics. Latterly 
 he was a frequent visitor at the Athenaeum, where he had 
 many friends. 
 
 They first visited Paris, and later Switzerland and Bavaria, 
 and returned down the Rhine. J. kept a very full diary of 
 this trip, the first of a series of diaries which he always wrote, 
 and often illustrated with clever little sketches, especially of 
 architectural details, whenever he was abroad. This diary 
 commences with his name surrounded by a calligraphic " set- 
 piece " such as Mr. Hexter, the writing-master at Eton, would 
 have rejoiced in. Below is the sentence, "Quid quo(|ue die 
 dixerini, audierim, egerim, commemoro vesperi" (Cicero, De 
 Senectute). J. and his tutor began their tour by spending a 
 few days at Paris, a city which J. always liked, and which, as 
 far as I know, he now visited for the first time. It is prophetic 
 that the first thing he did on, the morning after his arrival was to 
 visit the Bibliotheque Nationale, where Mr. Holden was intent 
 
 on copying a manuscript. J. visited the sights of Paris very 
 
 76
 
 Tar is ► 77 
 
 thoroughly, and thus laid the foundations of his accurate 
 knowledge of the topography of that city. 
 
 Space does not permit more than a few quotations from the 
 diary, but these few show the keen interest he took, not only 
 in architecture and the life of towns, but in country scenery 
 and in natural history : — 
 
 Monday, \Qth July 1852. 
 
 " Went in the morning to the Hotel des Invalides. 
 Not much to see there, as the tomb of Napoleon, the 
 chief object of interest, is not yet completed. After- 
 wards I visited the Chapelle Expiatoire built over the spot 
 where Marie Antoinette and her husband were interred 
 after their execution. The Swiss Guards are buried there 
 still — a beautiful idea, I thought, to surround her, even 
 in death, with those who had defended her so bravely while 
 alive." 
 
 He and his tutor left Paris on the 20th by train for Dijon, 
 and thence they started at four o'clock in the morning by 
 diligence for Geneva : — 
 
 Wednesday, 2\st July. 
 
 " . . . . The whole country seems covered with flowers. 
 I noticed Monkshood, Columbine, French-Willow, Blue 
 Campanula, &c., and myriads of butterflies, and when I 
 say myriads it is no exaggeration, for the air in some 
 places was quite thick with them. A splendid White 
 Admiral flew past us. All of a sudden, turning round a 
 corner sharp, the grand panorama opened out upon us. 
 For a space of 200 miles wide we saw the Alps, with 
 Mont Blanc in the middle ; at their feet glittered the 
 dark blue lake, and from that to the foot of the Jura lay a 
 beautiful country, diversified with cornfields, villages, and 
 woods. Such a sight I never could have dreamt of." 
 
 This view from the Col de la Faucille so impressed him 
 that forty-two years later, when I was travelling with him in 
 Eastern France in the late summer of 1894, we made great 
 efforts to see it again. We spent two snowy nights and a day 
 in a little auberge at the top of the Col, and certainly the
 
 jS Foreign Travel a7id College Life 
 
 glimpses I got between hurrying snowstorms of the view 
 justified J/s youthful enthusiasm. 
 
 From Geneva the party proceeded to walk round Mont 
 Blanc, stopping at St. Gervais, Courmayeur, Aorta, and Cha- 
 tillon ; between this and Zermatt the adventure inevitable to 
 all beginners in Alpine travel occurred : — 
 
 Tuesday and Wednesday, July 27th and 28th. 
 
 " Started from Chatillon at 7, up the Val Tournanche — 
 it is very beautiful at first, the road winding through a 
 thick wood of Spanish chestnuts, almost up to the village 
 of Antey. . . . At about half-past eleven we reached Tour- 
 nanche, and dined in the house of the Cure. Engaged 
 another guide there and proceeded to cross Mont Cervin to 
 Zermatt. . . . When we had got a little way up the moun- 
 tain it began to snow very fast, but both our guides assured 
 us that it was of no consequence, and the one from Tour- 
 nanche went up first, tried the glacier, and came back to 
 tell us it was quite firm. Our muleteer here refused to go 
 on, saying it would be the death of his mule ; and, as it 
 afterwards proved, it certainly would have been ; at this 
 point a more desolate and gloomy scene I never saw. 
 We were standing on the moraine, with a plain of snow 
 stretching round us apparently boundless ; the only ob- 
 jects to be seen on it were some rocks to the left hand, 
 and the snow kept falling faster and faster every minute. 
 
 " Notwithstanding, tying ourselves together with ropes, 
 the guides carrying the baggage, on we went — for my part 
 I was anxious to return, as I had read so much of the 
 dangers of snowstorms, and thought it not courage but 
 foolhardiness to proceed at such a time. However I was 
 overruled, and on we went. Having passed along for 
 some three-quarters of an hour skirting the rocks I men- 
 tioned before, our Tournanche guide began to stray about 
 somewhat vaguely, and to take first one path and then 
 another, till at length he cried out, ' Nous sommes perdus.' 
 This was pleasant, and again I ventured to mention return, 
 but our Chamounix guide said that this would now be 
 impossible, as the snow by this time had obliterated our 
 footsteps. He tried to keep up the Tournanche guide's 
 spirits (but a more cowardly fellow no one was ever bored
 
 ty/ u{J.ght in the Snow 79 
 
 with) and reasoned with him about the direction he 
 ought to take, but all to no purpose ; it could not be 
 found. He then told us that the best thing to do was 
 to dig a hole in the snow and pass the night there. As 
 Holden observed, it was very like digging our graves, and 
 certainly I never expected to get through all the danger 
 in the way we did. The cold was intense — my coat 
 became like buckram, it was with the greatest difficulty 
 that I could open my umbrella, and my fingers were so 
 frozen that they would scarcely grasp my Alpenstock. 
 Having made our hole, we stuck up our batons and fastened 
 Holden's plaid to them, keeping it down at the bottom by 
 piling snow on it. In a very shoi't time the snow and 
 sleet froze tight upon it, and it kept out the wind per- 
 fectly. We opened our three umbrellas in front, so that, 
 except when a sudden gust came with unusual force, the 
 cold wind was kept completely from us. I can in no way 
 account for the cold I suffered all night long — 1 was 
 between Holden and the guide, my feet were dry and 
 warm, for by an excellent idea of Holden's we had taken 
 off" our boots and socks, and putting on dry ones, stuck 
 them into our carpet bags ; yet all night I shivered cease- 
 lessly. At 3 the morning broke, but the snow and 
 mist continued as bad as ever. At 5 our guide began 
 to hunt for the road, leaving us in our auberge. The 
 Tournanche coward was for returning to Breuil, and so 
 was I, but he had passed the mountain some score times 
 and should have known the road, which, when we did find 
 it, was as plain as a pikestaff. 
 
 " Our Chamounix man kept begging us to wait un 'petit 
 moment. 
 
 " Suddenly, as if by a miracle, up rose the veil of clouds, 
 and disclosed to us the valley by which we had come the 
 night before, and instantly closed again. About five 
 minutes after they rose once more, and gave us a longer 
 and more complete view, so that there was now not the 
 least doubt about our way. At 8 we started, having been 
 ten hours in the snow. The road was as easy as possible 
 to find, and the snow perfectly hard. The glacier too 
 was a very safe one just there, the ice being one smooth 
 plain with only a few very large crevasses which, as we 
 afterwards read in Murray, serve as sign-posts to mark 
 the route, but our guide chose a short cut, which gave us
 
 8o Foreig7t Travel and College Life 
 
 a little trouble in one or two places, till at last we reached 
 the moraine, and then all labour was at an end. . . . 
 Zermatt was reached at 10 o''clock." 
 
 After a few days' rest they proceeded homeward by the 
 Rhone Valley, Vevey, Berne, Zurich, Constance, Ulm, Stutt- 
 gart, Heidelberg, Frankfort, and down the Rhine. 
 
 J. returned to Cambridge for a week on 16th August, and 
 then retired to Mr Holden's rectory at Brington, near North- 
 ampton, to read for his examination. Here he remained until 
 the beginning of the October term, when he returned to enter 
 into residence at Trinity. I extract a passage from his diary 
 at Brington : although written in rather Family Herald style it 
 expresses views on Greek which remained with him throughout 
 his life. 
 
 Saturday, August 28th. 
 
 "... Worked as usual at Xenophon, and really I 
 cannot but think it quite monstrous that everyone is to 
 waste four-and-twenty years of their life in learning two 
 dead languages which can never be of the slightest use to 
 them. They are years when all around wears its brightest 
 and most joyous aspect, as seen through the magic glass of 
 Youth ; when life has as yet lost none of its freshness ; 
 its golden beauty is still untarnished, its opening flowers 
 are unchilled by care — and these, these are to be wasted, 
 utterly wasted, and at the end of them one is turned 
 out ignorant of all that it is most useful to know. For 
 to persons of moderate intellect it is labour sufficient to 
 occupy their whole time to learn enough about Latin and 
 Greek to satisfy their Examiners, and no opportunity is 
 given of learning anything about their own country or any 
 other that now exists. . . ." 
 
 The Cambridge which J. came " up " to in 1852 was very 
 familiar to him — he was born and bred there — but to us it 
 would have seemed a different Cambridge to om' Cambridge. 
 
 As J. has written. Market Hill was then encumbered with 
 houses, and until the great fire of 1849 destroyed many of 
 them a street called Warwick Street, or Pump Lane, ran across
 
 Old Cambridge 8i 
 
 the eastern end of St. Mary's, and its western houses abutted 
 on the fabric of the church. The central part of the Market 
 Place was occupied by a block of houses facing four ways. 
 The market-stalls occupied a comparatively exiguous area facing 
 the Guildhall, an area further reduced by the fountain con- 
 nected with Hobson's Conduit, then one of the chief sources 
 of water-supply for the town. This was removed to the corner 
 of the Lensfield and Trumpington Roads in 1855, when the 
 present Company's water became available. Like the Uni- 
 versity Church, the eastern end of St. Edward's Church was 
 cumbered with dwelling-houses and shops. 
 
 The existing Hall of Gonville and Caius College was built 
 in 1854, but when J. came into residence the site of the most 
 conspicuous of the present buildings of that College was occupied 
 by a number of small houses running along Trinity Street and 
 a little way down Senate House Passage. That nearest the 
 Senate House was occupied by Macmillan & Co. On the 
 Trinity Street side of the College were two houses of interest ; 
 one, flanking the Gate of Humility, then and now occupied by 
 the porter's lodge, had been the home of the first newspaper 
 printed in Cambridge; the other, further down the street, 
 was the Theatre Coffee-house. There was then a lane run- 
 ning down from St. John's Street to the Cam, known as 
 St. John's Lane. This and that curious congeries of college 
 buildings known as the Labyrinth are ably described by 
 Samuel Butler in his The Way of all Flesh. The Labyrinth, 
 the chosen home of the Simeonites, was a relic of the infirmary 
 of the Hospital founded about 1200 by a burgess of Cam- 
 bridge, one Henry Frost. The Labyrinth and the Lane were 
 both swept away when the present Chapel of St. John's was 
 built in the late sixties. 
 
 On 20th February 1852, about six in the morning, a serious 
 fire broke out in the first Court of Trinity Hall. Mr. R. 
 Bowes tells me he remembers Dr. Whewell taking an active 
 part in its extinction and being greatly concerned as to the 
 possibility of its extending to the University Library, on the
 
 82 Foreig7i Travel and College Life 
 
 roof of which he directed that wet cloths should be placed. 
 The faCj-ade of Trinity Hall as we now see it was " immediately 
 afterwards rebuilt of stone, in a very neat and appropriate 
 style, from the design of A. Salvin, esq."" ^ Facing Clare Hall 
 stood the ruined buildings of the old Court of King's College, 
 now rebuilt and incorporated in the University Library. 
 
 The old buildings of Pembroke still stood, and were not 
 replaced by Waterhouse's structures until 1875. 
 
 A few years before J. came into residence the Botanic 
 Garden had been removed from the site of the old " public 
 physic garden " in the parishes of St. Edward and St. Benedict 
 — part of the site was a portion of the dissolved Priory of 
 St. Augustine, where the " New Museums " now stand. The 
 last relic of the " physic garden " is a splendid specimen 
 of the Sophora chinensis, which yields the dye for the 
 imperial yellow Court clothing of the Chinese, and which in 
 summer somewhat darkens the windows of the Pathological 
 Laboratory. The building of the Fitzwilliam Museum was 
 then incomplete. The massive and forbidding gaol stood, 
 as J.'s mother mentioned, on the south side of Parker's Piece 
 where Queen Anne's Terrace now stands. The "handsome 
 and commodious shirehouse" on Castle Hill had been erected 
 in 1842, and had involved the destruction of the romantic 
 gate-house of the old castle, a piece of vandalism but too 
 typical of Early Victorian methods. 
 
 In those days there were no public parks. Horsemen can- 
 tered over Parker's Piece, or undergraduates played football 
 there " without uniform or regular organisation," and for many 
 years afterwards Christ's Piece, enclosed by a rough fence, was 
 used for grazing sheep. Jesus College owned the Lammas rights. 
 
 The Corn Exchange was not built, and Corn Exchange 
 Street, then called Slaughter House Lane, was flanked on the 
 western side by rows of slaughter-houses, whose site is now 
 occupied by the Exchange, the Anatomical and Physiological 
 Schools, and by part of the Medical School. 
 
 ^ Cooper's Memorials, i. p. 133.
 
 Trinity College 8 3 
 
 Boating in the early fifties was greatly hampered by the 
 strings of barges proceeding along the narrow river course. 
 After passing Midsummer Common, the horse was cast off and 
 the barges were punted past the backs of the Colleges by stout 
 poles called "spreads" to discharge their cargoes at the hythes 
 between Magdalene Bridge and St. John's College, or more 
 usually in the Mill Pool above Queens'. The bargee, too, was 
 still a social factor, as readers of Thackeray's " Codlingsby " will 
 remember. Within the last few years, punting has been re- 
 sumed on " the backs " not with the happiest results, — " qtiieta 
 non movere'"'' applies very literally to the bottom of the Cam. 
 
 Even in the seventies Cambridge would have seemed odd 
 to our eyes. The earlier fashions lingered, I believe, longer at 
 St. John's than in other Colleges. There cap and gown were 
 compulsory until 11 a.m., and the lectures began at 8 o'clock 
 in the morning. Some of the Dons had very marked individu- 
 alities, and held very strong opinions which they did not 
 hesitate to express. One of these gentlemen who married late 
 in life, returning to his church after a honeymoon of six 
 weeks, publicly thanked God "for three weeks of unalloyed 
 connubial bliss." The same gentleman once defined his religious 
 and political position in these words: "I, sir, am a High- 
 Churchman and a Tory, and I fail to see how a gentleman and 
 a Christian could be anything else." There are still left those 
 who heard and remember a sermon of his in the Colleffe 
 Chapel ; when passionately declaiming, " The centuries ask us, 
 What is Faith ? " he startled his hearers by thundering out, 
 " But, the answer is A^o." He once rebuked a Junior Fellow, 
 who was smoking a pipe in the Wilderness, with the remark, 
 "No Christian gentleman smokes a pipe, or if he does he 
 smokes a cigar." 
 
 J. came up to Trinity in 1852, and thus began his associa- 
 tion with the College which lasted for nearly sixty years. He was 
 always very proud of his connexion with Trinity, and, though on 
 occasions he would say a bitter word with regard to some action 
 of the College Council, he would be the first to defend his
 
 84 Foreign Travel and College Life 
 
 College from the attacks of others. In 1903, by way of making 
 some return for what he felt he owed to Trinity, he presented 
 the College with a copy (purchased in Spain) of Antonio Moro's 
 well-known portrait of Queen Mary. Of this picture J. used 
 characteristically to remark that it proved that, whatever other 
 failings Philip of Spain had, he was at any rate a gentleman : 
 for after seeing the original picture (which was specially painted 
 for him) he still married the lady ! 
 
 1852 was also the year of the publication of the " Report of 
 the Commissioners for Inquiring into the State, Discipline, and 
 Revenues of the University and Colleges of Cambridge." Until 
 the new Statutes, which were adopted as the result of this in- 
 quiry, were promulgated, there had been little or no change at 
 any of the Colleges since the time of the original Statutes drawn 
 up by the Founders. At Chrisfs College, Lady Margaret's 
 Statutes governed us for 350 years. But the publication of the 
 Report just mentioned marked the end of the old University 
 and College life and the beginning of the modern academic 
 Cambridge. With this beginning, " enter J. " 
 
 He came into residence in October. It was a spacious and a 
 leisurely age, and apparently one did not at that time look very 
 far ahead. Only on the 9th October did his father "go to 
 Mr. Cooper in the morning, and found that 1 could have 
 rooms." Two days later J. " went down early to Mr. Cooper, 
 and talked some time with him. After luncheon, went with 
 Mamma and Papa to my rooms and arranged what was 
 wanted. Then went to shops and sent things in." 
 
 " My rooms " during the next four years were H.6, New 
 Court. On taking his degree he moved to D.4, in Nevile's 
 Court, and two years later to D.5. When living in D.4, he 
 had in the rooms opposite one who remained his friend through- 
 Jr out life — Charles Gray, now Rector of West Retford. These 
 sets of rooms were over those occupied by Mr. W. G. Clark, 
 the Shakespeare scholar, and of Mr. IMartin, the Bursar. Even 
 as late as 1870 J. had rooms in College, R.7 Great Court, 
 and these he occupied, although he had ceased to be a Fellow, 
 
 i . — 
 
 I
 
 y,^s Tutors 85 
 
 in virtue of the fact that he was working at the College 
 muniments. 
 
 J.'s first Tutor was John Cooper, 33rd Wrangler and 7th 
 in Class I of the Classical Tripos of 1835. He gained his 
 Fellowship in 1837. Cooper left Cambridge in October 1855, 
 and two years after J. took his degree was instituted into 
 the College living of Kendal, and became Canon of Carlisle 
 and Archdeacon of Westmoreland. He appears to have been 
 an amiable, right-minded man, of no particular force. In 
 those days, however. Tutors of Colleges had few dealings with 
 their pupils beyond sending in their terminal College bill. In 
 that matter I gather they were precise. 
 
 The following extract from Professor James Stuart's admir- 
 able account of Cambridge as he found it in 1862, shows us that 
 the Tutor of fifty years ago thought it no part of his duty to 
 inform a candidate for a scholarship of the result of his exam- 
 ination. " After having sat for that, and before the result was 
 known, I went to Harrow to pay a visit to my uncle, James Stuart. 
 Being somewhat of an Evangelical Churchman, he took in the 
 Record^ and about a week after I saw in it, accidentally, a 
 notice of the names of those who had gained the minor scholar- 
 ships, including my own. The incident, I think, shows the 
 rather slipshod method in which college tutors then conducted 
 their business. I wrote to Mr. W. G. Clark, my college tutor, 
 saying I had noticed my name in a list given in the Record of 
 such and such a date, and asking him if it were correct. He 
 wrote back a very short letter, consisting of the following 
 words : ' My dear sir, the Record has in this instance spoken 
 the truth."' I afterwards learned that he was not of the Evan- 
 gelical persuasion, and read the Guardian.'''' ^ 
 
 It was a Trinity tutor, somewhat senior to Mr. Cooper, who, 
 having told his servant to ask one of his pupils to wine, and 
 being reminded by that functionary that the gentleman in 
 question was dead, replied in a voice of thunder, " You ought 
 to tell me when my pupils die."" 
 
 1 Reminiscences, by James Stuai-t^ pp. 144-5.
 
 86 Foreign Travel and College Life 
 
 From 1850 William Colliiigs Mathison had been associated 
 with Mr. Cooper in the direction of his " side," and when 
 Cooper left in 1855 he became solely responsible for it, and 
 J.'s later bills are made out in his name. He was an accom- 
 plished musician, and, to those whom he liked, generous and 
 kind ; but there were others, and on the whole I do not gather 
 that the junior members of Trinity suffered much when he 
 married and retired to a college living in Norfolk. There he 
 presently died. Tom Taylor lived in the rooms above Mr. 
 Mathison's if I am right in identifying the latter as " the small 
 precise Don " ; and he it was, according to Bristed, who used to 
 put mice into the Tutor's milk jug.^ 
 
 We have seen that J. was not altogether a happy school- 
 boy, and that he did not derive all the benefit he might 
 from Eton. When he came up to the University, however, 
 things were different. He was lucky enough to get into a 
 remarkably nice reading set, and I gather he thoroughly 
 enjoyed his undergraduate days. It is only sixty years ago, 
 yet almost the only member of this set whose name I have been 
 able to retrieve is William Court Gully, afterwards Speaker 
 of the House of Commons, who took his degree in 1856. 
 
 J. soon learnt that his father, who always had a high opinion 
 of his boy''s ability, had set his heart on his getting a Fellow- 
 ship. J. himself thought he had no possible chance; but he 
 worked hard, " probably as hard as ever man did," and, thanks 
 to the aid of Lightfoot and Lempriere Hammond (the latter of 
 whom, J. said, "• made me "), he obtained a first class in the 
 Tripos. 
 
 J. has drawn for us the day's work of a reading man when 
 he was " up," and we can safely assume that it is a sketch of a 
 day in his own student life. He took, I believe, little part in 
 formal athletics ; but, as his mother wished, he rode regularly, 
 and, as was the habit of the age, took long walks. On wet 
 afternoons the members of the University " resorted to the 
 cloister in Nevile"'s Court, Trinity, which from two to four 
 
 ^ C. A. Bristedj Five Years in an English University (New York, 1852).
 
 France and Germany 87 
 
 o'clock would be quite thronged with pairs of dons and under- 
 graduates pacing backwards and forwards." ^ 
 
 One echo of the time, which shows his established love of 
 play-acting, has come down to me. Then, as now, societies 
 existed for the weekly reading of Shakespeare's plays. Some 
 one once told me that the first time he saw J. was on enter- 
 ing a room where one of these gatherings was soon to begin. 
 J., who had apparently been allotted the roles of one or two 
 " walking gentlemen," was bitterly exclaiming, " I wonder what 
 fool has cast me for these parts ! " In fact, if J. had the gift 
 of light verse — and this he had not — he might have said with 
 Calverley, who occupied the other end from J. of Class I in the 
 Classical Tripos of 1856 : — 
 
 "" When within my veius the blood ran, 
 And the curls were on my brow, 
 1 did, oh ye undergraduates. 
 Much as you are doing now." 
 
 In 1853 he went abroad with his parents, and, after a day 
 or two at Paris, made an extensive tour in Germany. As 
 usual when abroad, he kept a very detailed diary, and some 
 excerpts from this are here appended : — 
 
 " Tuesday, June 21. — Went after breakfast to the Mint, 
 which. was somewhat disappointing, except the stamping 
 of the coins, which interested me much. Then to Notre 
 Dame to see the Funeral of the Pope's Nuncio. The 
 Cathedral was hung with black, and the choir and the 
 portion under the centre carpeted with the same. At the 
 intersection of the Nave and Transepts an immense Cata- 
 falque had been raised, with Statues at each corner, and with 
 a hundred lighted Tapers and three great candelabra. . . . 
 The black hangings were then drawn aside, and showed 
 another candelabrum behind lighted. From the Catafalque 
 to the choir was a line of priests on each side and some 
 soldiers in front of them. There seemed about 300 priests 
 
 1 " A Septuagenarian's Recollections of St. John's," The Eagle, xxx., 
 1909, pp. 16, 17.
 
 88 ForeigJi Travel and College Life 
 
 altogether. The Archbishop officiated in a black cope em- 
 broidered with silver, and wore his mitre. The music was 
 most impressive, and one part of the service especially so, 
 viz. when the Host was raised the whole congregation fell 
 on their knees, including the soldiers, and they played a 
 rappel on their drums." 
 
 " 1853, Jxdy 5, Dresden. — Which is right, Rome or the 
 English Church .f* All seems so unreal, so unsatisfactory. 
 A sort of pageant — a troop of actors professing certain 
 ideas — and day after day repeating what they have been 
 told to say — while the world goes on in its sin and its 
 misery, getting neither better nor worse, except in the 
 cases of a few rare men, who seem to have solved the 
 problem of Life, and to understand why they are here. 
 There's the rub. What is my vocation here ? How am I 
 to employ myself usefully ? " 
 
 " Wednesday, July 6th. — Worked at Agamemnon till 
 one. . . . Went into the Catholic cemetery. It is the most 
 charming place I ever saw. The gravestones are nearly all 
 plain crosses, and the whole plot is thickly planted with 
 roses, which grow in wild luxuriance about, and yet seem 
 cared for and carefully cultivated. . . . Went afterwards 
 into the Lutheran cemetery ; it is just like the Catholic one, 
 only not so thickly planted with flowers, and does not look 
 such a holy place. And then I like the large crucifix so 
 — looking over the whole graveyard ; emblem of how 
 Christ watches over the faithful departed till they rise 
 again." 
 
 " Friday, Jidy Sth. — At six there was a short but severe 
 thunderstorm, with very vivid lightning. When it was 
 over, walked ... in the connnon near Friedrichstadt. I 
 never heard anything like the frogs — they had the true 
 Athenian croak — I could really at times distinguish the 
 /3peK6Ke^ quite loud, and the x^"-$ very often." 
 
 " Friday, July 9,^th. — AVent to the Opera to see The 
 Huguenots. I never remember to have seen in a theatre 
 any piece that gave me so much pleasure. In scenery, 
 music, acting, and dramatic power it surpasses everything 
 I have before witnessed, and quite comes up to my ideal of 
 an Opera." 
 
 " Tuesday, August 9,nd. — Went to hear Lucrezia Borgia. 
 It was grander than I had expected, tho' I heard so much 
 in its praise from Sutton. The actress who took the part
 
 Germany 89 
 
 of Lucrezia acted and sang extremely well. One scene 
 particularly struck me. When Orsino sings the drinking 
 song, all of a sudden the sounds of the Mass for the dead 
 are heard. The lights are all extinguished, and the guests 
 cry out in horror, ' Who has done this ? ' All of a sudden 
 the doors at the back of the stage are thrown open, and in 
 the doorway is seen standing Lucrezia, pale as death, in a 
 long black di'ess, with not a bit of white to break its 
 solemnity, and a servant on each side holds up a light. 
 In answer to their question, she answers triumphantly, 
 ' I, Lucrezia Borgia ! ' I never saw such magnificent 
 acting." 
 
 ''^ Blaiikenburg\ Tuesday, Sept. 26th. — Went in the 
 morning to see the ducal Schloss : it contains a lot of 
 ugly pictures ... a good deal of ordinary furniture, 
 and other usual appurtenances of a country gentleman's 
 house. The best thing there is the collection of stuffed 
 birds and animals, which are worth going to see alone ; I 
 never saw such expression given to stuffed creatures : they 
 were done bv Mans of Brunswick. Wild cats are still shot 
 in the Harz : two are preserved there which the Duke 
 shot near." 
 
 *' Wednesday, Sept. 9nth. — Went by rail from Magdeburg 
 
 to Leipsic, as was anxious to see the annual fair, 
 
 now going on there. 
 
 "• I did not see such a variety of costumes as I had 
 expected. One Armenian passed us, and there were a 
 good many Tyrolese, one of whom was very friendly to 
 us, and saluted us with 'meine Liebe.' In the evening 
 went to the theatre, where they performed Ctmv und 
 Zimmerman. It was well enough, better than I had 
 expected." 
 
 to"' 
 
 In the following year (1854) "Johnny went in for a Trinity 
 scholarship,"" but was unsuccessful. He came out fifth in his 
 year in the annual examination at Trinity, but was only 
 awarded a Second Class. On 24th June he came of age. In 
 February 1855 "Johnny declaimed in Latin in the Trinity 
 College Chapel," and on 20th April he was elected a Scholar 
 of his College. 
 
 J. took his degree in 1856, bracketed last in Class I of
 
 90 Foreign Travel and College Life 
 
 tlie Classical Tripos. Brown of Trinity was Senior, Calverley 
 of Christ's second, Horton-Smith ^ of St. John's bracketed 
 fourth. The previous year Montagu Butler of Trinity had been 
 Senior Classic, and in the following year, 1857, Moule of Corpus, 
 Seeley of Christ's, F. T. Piatt of Trinity, and Snow (later 
 Kynaston) of St. John's were all bracketed Senior, while in 
 1856 Fawcett of Trinity Hall had been seventh Wrangler, and 
 Bonney of St. John's was bracketed twelfth. 
 
 In the Long Vacation after taking his degree J. travelled 
 in Norway and Sweden in company with J. W. Dunning. 
 They wrote an account of this tour, which was printed, with- 
 out the authors' names, in 1857. 
 
 J. was in Cambridge most of 1857, though the early part 
 ^ of the Long Vacation was spent in a short tour in France. 
 The Long Vacation must have been different then, for in what 
 is now the deadest time of the academic year, when only the 
 plumber and the paper-hanger prevail in College, the Univer- 
 sity was peopled with Dons and undergraduates : — 
 
 _y' " Wednesday, Sept. 23r^, 1857. — Wrote to mamma and 
 
 to papa. Called on Mrs. Pryme. She told me some 
 curious stories about old Cambridge. The Duke of 
 Gloucester was here for some years, and used to go out 
 to tea, like the rest of the world, with his tutor ; among 
 other places he went one Sunday to Jesus Lodge, where 
 after tea they played at blindman's buff", in the course 
 of which he kissed Mrs. Bcadon : ^ which kiss procured 
 her husband a Bishopric. But this story is apocryphal, 
 as the Duke probably never had influence enough to 
 procure anyone a Bishopric. When he came again here, 
 as Prince William, his old friends called on him at 
 Trinity Lodge; among others old Mrs. Thackeray went 
 with two of her young children, Mrs. Pryme, and one of 
 her brothers. The children were told to walk in the 
 court till mamma came down. The Duke received her 
 very graciously, and asked after her children. " Oh, they 
 are below," said she, and pointed to them through the 
 
 ' Xow 'I'reasurer of Lincoln's luii. 
 
 - Wife of Richard Beadon, Master 1781-1789.
 
 Fellow of Trinity 91 
 
 window. There was some plum cake on the table, and 
 the Duke took two pieces, wrapped them in paper, and 
 gave them to her for the children, who were, of course, 
 mightily pleased with the present, and cherished the 
 fragments of cake and the paper till they fell to pieces 
 from age." 
 
 Of the thirteen men who appeared in Class I of the 
 Classical Tripos of 1856, twelve were elected to Fellowships, 
 and three of the second Class had a similar success. In those 
 days the University was small, the avenues to Honour degrees 
 but four, and when two years later E. C. Clark, now Regius 
 Professor of Law and the Senior Classic of 1858, was not elected 
 to a Trinity Fellowship — (he was elected the next year) — there 
 was a good deal of comment. Never having lived in an old 
 ladies' almshouse, I cannot estimate the extent or the range of 
 their gossip, but I doubt if in intensity and minuteness it sur- 
 passed that of the Combination Rooms before 1881, when, by 
 the merciful intervention of Parliament, dons were allowed 
 to marry. J. himself always said, " I never ought to have got 
 a Fellowship, but there happened to be eight vacant that year, 
 and they gave me one." To the dons of those days it was 
 a problem, and a much discussed problem, why the last of the 
 First Class of the Classical Tripos of 1856 received a Fellowship 
 in 1858, one year before the Senior Classic of 1858. " Ifs the 
 metaph^mcs that did it,"" as old Francis France of St. John's 
 explained, showing a humorous contempt both for the Papers 
 on Moral Science which Dr. Whewell had introduced into the 
 examination for Trinity Fellowships, and a sound appreciation 
 of J.'s fundamental and whole-hearted incapacity for any kind 
 of Mental Philosophy. 
 
 Whilst he was an undergraduate J. was not extravagant ; 
 three of his College bills lie before me, and the terminal 
 average is about X''33. Of course there was Scroope House 
 to fall back upon for hospitality to his friends and himself, 
 but J. was, when I knew him, ever careful of money. Often 
 he was generous, often he spent considerable sums on what
 
 92 Foreign 'Travel and College Life 
 
 seemed to him worth expenditure, and even those who knew 
 him intimately would have been surprised had they known 
 of the sums he lent to friends, in all walks of life, who found 
 themselves in financial difficulties. He was accustomed to say 
 with pretended cynicism, "Never spend any money," but more 
 than most men he carried out the injunction not to let his 
 right hand know what his left hand did. 
 
 We now come to a time when our material fails us. Whilst 
 an undergraduate, J.'s home was less than a mile from his 
 rooms ; thus there were no letters to his father or mother, or 
 hardly any that remain. Few of his intimate friends survive, 
 and although such as I have been able to get in touch with 
 have done their very best to help, I have gleaned but little.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 J. AS A BACHELOR 
 
 J. has recorded that after his steady and strenuous work 
 for his degree, and then for his Fellowship, " for the first 
 time in my life I discovered that there was such a thing as 
 amusement," and he amused himself. His father allowed 
 him a liberal income, although I gather that J. thought it 
 inadequate. He hunted, he danced, he dined, and was the 
 cause of the dining of others; he took an active part in many 
 of the social clubs of Cambridge and especially in the A.D.C. 
 He had a certain skill in sketching, and thought he should like 
 to be an artist ; he knew — for the period — a good deal about 
 anatomy, and, I have been told, would like to have succeeded 
 his father in his Chair ; " I planned this and I planned that — 
 amongst other things an edition of Aristotle's De Partihus 
 Animalkim,'''' but nothing came of it all. He regretted that he 
 had not qualified as a doctor, but as a potential patient I am glad 
 he did not. He worked hard at French, which he had first learnt 
 as a child at Boulogne, and which he always alluded to as the 
 " native language." He spoke it with ease and pleasure. 
 
 At the instigation of his friend. Dr. Luard, he at this 
 time began to collect the long series of tracts recording Dr. 
 Richard Bentley's quarrels with Trinity. This developed ; and 
 he soon found himself collecting Cambridge literature of all 
 periods and upon every subject, with the result that by the 
 end of his life he had brought together a unique local collec- 
 tion. This collection he bequeathed to the University. 
 
 J. liked travelling, but never ventured very far afield. He 
 liked moving about in the Latin countries, especially in France, 
 which he always spoke of as " La Patrie " or " Le sol sacre." 
 
 93
 
 94 y. as a '^Bachelor 
 
 He was fond of making in French what on the stage are called 
 " asides," and he affected to believe that no one except the 
 person for whose benefit the " aside " was made understood 
 him. Sometimes he used to excuse his sudden burst into 
 French by adding, " Je dis quelquefois des choses etranges." 
 Perhaps it was as a result of this that Mrs. J. used to declare 
 that the parlourmaid at Scroope House had purchased a 
 French dictionary, so as to be able to follow J.'s table-talk. 
 Certain it is that on one occasion he was somewhat taken 
 aback by a Cambridge cabman, whom he had just engaged, saying 
 that he thought it was only fair to tell him at the beginning of 
 their drive that he understood the French language ! 
 
 He was less happy in Northern Germany, particularly after 
 1870, and thenceforth he classed all Germans as " plunderers 
 from Prussia"; but for him Vienna and Munich were by no 
 means places to be passed by. The year he was elected to his 
 Fellowship he spent largely abroad, visiting France and Italy 
 in the winter of 1858-59. I reproduce one of his letters written 
 to his mother in the spring of the latter year : — 
 
 Naples, Saturday, 12th March 1859. 
 
 " Spent the whole day in ascending Vesuvius. Before 
 starting I had just time to go to the Church of the 
 Incoronata to see Giotto's frescoes. They more than 
 come up to my idea of his beauties. 
 
 " Left the Inn at 11 a.m., drove to the Hermitage, or 
 rather as far as the lava would allow us, and then crossed 
 the lava on foot. It was so hot in places that we had 
 to make detours to avoid it. 
 
 "The ascent of the cone is most fatiguing — you have 
 to clamber up loose cinders, which give way perpetually. 
 This lasts for some 40 mins., and then you reach a toler- 
 ably level plain of sulphur, on which are the two craters 
 of 1849 and 1858, the latter by far the larger. Both 
 emit smoke. Occasionally we heard a noise like thunder, 
 preceding from the fall of huge masses of rock into the 
 crater. Beyond this plain ri.ses the actual summit, a low 
 ])yramid, from which the descent is a sheer precipice on 
 the side towards Pompeii. On the other it descends to
 
 We7ttworth 95 
 
 the old crater, now filled up — which was active before 
 these two later ones were opened. The descent was very 
 rapid down the steep slope of ashes. We spent some 
 time in watching the lava as night closed in. It caught 
 a young tree, whose root was speedily burnt through, and 
 down it fell into the burning torrent, which was falling 
 down so steep a slope as to look very much like a fiery 
 cascade." 
 
 J.'s regular diary dates from 1860, and by this time he must 
 have become Tutor to Lord Milton, eldest son of the sixth 
 Earl Fitzwilliam, and father of the present Earl, for on the 
 third day of the new year we find him returning from Went- 
 worth to Cambridge. It was at Wentworth that he developed 
 his taste for hunting. The entries are short and for the most 
 part trivial : " rode with W.," " hunted with the X. hounds," 
 " went to the Y. Ball," or " dined with the Z.'s." The first 
 really serious record is on " Thursday, 23rd February. — Con- 
 gregation : Sermons at St. Mary's on Sunday mornings 
 abolished." The following month he read his first paper — one 
 before the Cambridge Architectural Society — on the " Annals 
 of All Saints' Church," ^ and in March he lectured before the 
 same Society on " The Roman Catacombs." His interest in 
 architecture and archaeology was already keen, and he was 
 taking an active part on the Committee then occupied with 
 the restoration of the Octagon at Ely Cathedral. Part of June 
 was spent yachting off' the south coast with the Fitzwilliams, 
 and in August, accompanied by Lord Milton, he started for 
 a trip to the Faroes and Iceland. A somewhat arid account 
 of this journey was published in 1861, in a volume entitled 
 Vacation Touiists and Notes of Travel in 1860, edited by Mr. 
 Francis Gallon. 
 
 Late in the autumn he was back at home, and the usual 
 short entries for the ensuing winter in his diary are confined 
 to recording where he dined or danced, or with what pack he 
 hunted ; still he was occasionally working at the Museum ; for 
 instance, the entry for 18 January 1861, is "At the Museum. 
 
 1 Ecclesiologist, 1860.
 
 96 y. as a bachelor 
 
 Prince of Wales ^ arrived 3 p.m." Six days later J. dined at 
 Magdalene, to meet Charles Kingsley, who had been made 
 Regius Professor of History, an appointment not entirely un- 
 connected with the Prince's residence at the University. Part 
 of this year he spent in an extended tour in Switzerland and 
 Italy. Lord Milton accompanied him, and for part of the 
 time J.'s friend, David Powell, who was on a sketching tour in 
 Italy, joined the party. J. was very intimate with all the 
 Powell family. David was now up at Trinity; and later on 
 when Henry came into residence (1864-1868) J. looked after 
 him as if he had been his own younger brother. 
 
 The following describes an episode common enough in the 
 early sixties, but none the less unpleasant : — 
 
 La Spezzia, IQth September 1861. 
 "Now I must tell you my adventure. Between here 
 and Sestri you must know that the road leaves the coast, 
 by reason of certain inaccessible cliffs, and strikes inland 
 across a lofty Pass. From the top of this a road goes to a 
 place on the coast called Levanto, and thence a path leads 
 to another village called Monterosso, at both of which 
 there are very ancient and curious Churches. From 
 Monterosso a path leads into the highroad again, about 
 3 miles from here. So I left Powell at the top to go 
 on to Spezzia, went to my villages, saw the Churches 
 and the people, who were not the least curious part 
 of the sight, and got into the road again between 
 6 and 7 in the evening. Having gone along it for a mile 
 or so, I can)e to a village, when a Brigadiere, a sort of 
 superior policeman, who is captain of the parties of 
 Carabinieri stationed all about the country, came forward 
 and asked for my passport. It is needless to say that, 
 after all the Italians have said officially about the Heed- 
 lessness of passports, and having never been asked for 
 mine since I came into Italy, I had sent it on with the 
 luggage, I suppose he thought me a suspicious person, 
 for he would not take my word that I was an Englishman, 
 but made me come with him to the barrack-room, where 
 he wrote a note to the Mayor to ask what to do with me. 
 
 ' Kinj? Eflward MI, who spent the year 18G1 at Cambridge, living at 
 Madinglcy Hall.
 
 I demanded to see the Mayor, and telling him, as we 
 walked along, that he had better mind what he was about, 
 he got so angry that he took me back at once, and put me 
 in a filthy cell, pitch dark, where some deserters had been 
 lodged. Presently back came the answer from the Mayor, 
 that " for greater security " I had better be detained. 
 Then I asked to be allowed to send a messenger to Spezzia 
 for the passport, but this he refused to allow. I got leave, 
 however, to send for it very early in the morning. Then 
 I begged for a cleaner room, and finally got changed into 
 one where I had two tame rabbits for companions. Being 
 duly locked and barred in, I was left for the night. The 
 soldiers were extremely kind, and g-^ve me fruit, and a 
 pillow which they shoved through the bars. About 7 a.m. 
 Powell and the passport came. He, it appeared, had not 
 even been asked for his, so then I flew at the fellow, and 
 gave him my mind. On getting to Spezzia I went at 
 once to the Consul, who is Lever the Novelist; he has 
 taken the matter up warmly. By great good-luck Sir 
 James Hudson, our Ambassador at Turin, is coming here in 
 a day or two, and, by threatening to lay the matter before 
 him, Lever has frightened the authorities into vigour. I 
 shall know more before I write again as to what will be 
 done. Probably a good deal, as the Italians just now know 
 how important it is to be civil to the English. Now 
 that we have seventeen ships of the line at Naples, we are 
 not people to be rashly put in prison with tame rabbits." 
 
 A fortnight later J. was writing to his mother that Lord 
 Fitzwilliam had suggested that he should accompany Lord 
 Milton to the United States. J. gives his reasons for declining 
 the offer, and amongst them is that — 
 
 " I have so much work to do before the British Associa- 
 tion meets in September that, even supposing I did go, I 
 could only stay three months. Furthermore, I said I could 
 give no answer till I had talked to Papa about it. I own it 
 would be great to visit America, now that they are at sixes 
 and sevens — immense fun — but / can agire to no plan that 
 will prevent my having our Museum in first-rate order 
 hy September.'''' 
 
 It is just as well J. remained this side of the Atlantic. 
 
 6
 
 98 y, as a ^achelo?^ 
 
 He would not have liked the United States, and he would 
 have said so. As it was, he busied himself with parochial 
 affairs in Cambridge. 
 
 A perennial source of complaint amongst the members of 
 any College is dinner — either the quality or the hour is 
 perpetually under discussion and the subject of petitions to 
 the powers that control such matters. In 1862 there was a 
 successful agitation at Trinity to place the hour of dinner 
 (then at 4 p.m.) later, and J. wrote a reasoned and moderate 
 pamphlet in support of the change. Since it reveals a state of 
 things very different from that obtaining at present, I quote a 
 couple of paragraphs : — 
 
 " For a majority of Undergraduates, the morning is 
 terminated by a Professor's lecture. Attendance upon 
 these is necessary for those who intend to take Holy 
 Orders, as well as Candidates for the ordinary B.A. 
 Degree. These lectures are all given at a comparatively 
 late hour, and necessarily so, to suit the College Lectures 
 and the arrangements of Private Tutors. To take the 
 Lent Term of 1862 alone, I find the following hours set 
 down in the Schedule : 
 
 The Regius Professor of Divinity. 1 p.m. 
 
 The Professor of Chemistry. 2 p.m. 
 
 The Plumian Professor of Astronomv. 1| p.m. 
 
 The Professor of Anatomy. \^ p.m. 
 
 The Lowndean Professor of Astronomy. 1\ p.m. 
 
 The Professor of Mineralogy. 2 p.m. 
 
 The Disney Professor of Archaeology. 1 p.m. 
 
 "Of these the Professors of Divinity, Anatomy, and 
 Archaeology finish their lectures about 2.15 p.m. : those of 
 Chemistry, Astronomy, and Mineralogv, between 3 and 
 3.15 P.M. : so that those Undergraduates who attend the 
 former, get about an hour and three-quarters for exercise ; 
 those who attend the latter, from one hour to three- 
 quarters of an hour." 
 
 The following year J. stayed in England, but made long 
 excursions in the Lakes, and in Wales and the West Country, 
 sketching and collecting plants. But he was now becoming more
 
 Work in London 99 
 
 sei'ious : he notes in his diary that Dr. Luard, his predecessor 
 in the office of Registrary, " had 396 votes, whereas his opponent 
 Mr. Power had but 253"; he records on the 20th January 
 1863, " Dr. Humphry"'s lectures began," which is probably a 
 hint that his father's health was beginning to fail. J. was now 
 beginning to look about him for something definite to do, and 
 in September of 1863 he obtained the offer of a post at a 
 salary of ,^350 a year, as General Managing Editor in the 
 establishment of Messrs. Cassell, Petter, & Galpin, the well- 
 known publishers. About this time he was spending a good 
 deal of time in London, living with his great friend Frank 
 Campbell, brother of the present Mrs. Pemberton of Trumping- 
 ton, and was doubtless writing for his firm. He brought out 
 an edition of Robinson Crusoe, and, in collaboration with Canon 
 Teignmouth Shore, an edition of Don Quixote, but on all this 
 the diaries are, and J. was himself, as silent as the grave. Those 
 few friends who recollect the time have a misty notion that J. 
 was not happy in the business of publishing, and he did not 
 endure it long, resigning in the early spring of 1865. A 
 near relative, however, tells me that he was really interested 
 in his Loudon work, and often told Mrs. J. that though he 
 gave it up from a sense of duty to his father, it was a great 
 sacrifice at the time, and one that he was long in getting over. 
 As was proper to his temperament and his time of life, 
 J. was now from time to time falling in love, and then scram- 
 bling; out again. Into these affairs we need not enter, but 
 the first indication of his friendship with the family into 
 which he ultimately so happily married occurs in the diary 
 for the year 1864 — an unusually meagre journal, wherein four- 
 teen entries suffice for the whole year. During the spring of 
 this year he visited Germany, and, after staying at Leipzig and 
 Dresden, reached Berlin on April 1st, " saw Buchanan," ^ and 
 
 ^ This, I gather, was Edwai'd Buchanan, for whom he had formed a 
 strong undergraduate friendship^ and who died in 1870. After him J.'s 
 elder son was iiamed. Edward Buchanan's father was then our Ambas- 
 sador at Berlin.
 
 lOO y. CIS a bachelor 
 
 the next two or three days he dined at the Embassy every 
 
 night. 
 
 During this year Great St. Mary's Church was re-seated, 
 and as the change was considerable, and J. was much 
 interested in it, I quote his account of the abolition of the 
 Doctors' Gallery : — 
 
 "This wonderful gallery, officially termed 'the Throne' or 
 ' the Doctors' Gallery,"" but by a rather profane, and very silly, 
 pun, always spoken of familiarly as Golgotha, was a large 
 room. It occupied the whole width, and about half the 
 length, of the chancel, and was fitted with seats rising in tiers 
 one above the other. The back was formed of large panels of 
 oak. The Vice-Chancellor sat in a capacious arm-chair in the 
 centre of the front row. It should be mentioned that the 
 tower-arch also was blocked by the organ, which had a gallery 
 in front of it. This latter aflected to be of stone, and in the 
 Gothic style, but was really of plaster. When a popular 
 preacher occupied the pulpit, and the church was quite full, it 
 must be admitted that the effect was good, and members of the 
 University could see and hear exceedingly well. But those 
 who had planned the ari'angement had forgotten, or did not 
 care to remember, that a church is built for other purposes 
 than to hear sermons in, and Archdeacon Hare did not speak 
 too strongly when he called St. Mary's ' an example of the 
 world turned topsy-turvy.' However, when the late energetic 
 Vicar, the Rev. H. R. Luard, undertook to get ' Golgotha ' and 
 its accompanim,ents removed, he encountered much vexatious 
 opposition from all parties interested in the church. The old 
 difficulties in obtaining funds were renewed. It took ten years 
 to get ^3300 together ; and the present excellent and decorous 
 arrangements were not completed until 1864." 
 
 Professor Clark had been failing in health for some time, and 
 in November 1865 he resigned the Professorship of Anatomy. 
 He was succeeded early in the following year by Dr. (later 
 Sir George Murray) Humphry on the Human Anatomy side, 
 and by Alfred Newton on the Zoological side. J. was then
 
 The 3^11 sell 7ns loi 
 
 (1866) formally appointed Superintendent of the Museum of 
 Comparative Anatomy, which, as he tells the Electoral Roll in 
 his letter of application, " has been under my charge . . . for 
 the last four years." He was also appointed at the same time 
 a member of the newly-formed Museums and Lecture Rooms 
 Syndicate. Later he became Secretary to the Syndicate, and held 
 both offices until he became Registrary twenty-five years later. 
 J. continued to use his rooms in Trinity, but to an ever- 
 decreasing extent. Owing to his declining health, Dr. Clark 
 went less and less into society, and J. was more and more at 
 Scroope House, helping his mother to maintain the hospitable 
 traditions of the place. As J. could not see his way to 
 take Holy Orders, his Fellowship came to an end this year, 
 but he was allowed to retain his rooms in College for several 
 years later, as he was understood to be working at the Col- 
 lege records ; and indeed he did work at them from time to 
 time, but, except as regards those which relate to the buildings, 
 little came of it. Shortly before his death all these records 
 were fully calendared and returned to the Trinity Muniment 
 Room. For a few months he acted as Librarian at Trinity, 
 being Deputy for the Librarian, who was away, and as the 
 following extract from a letter to his friend, Charles Gray, 
 Vicar of West Retford, shows, he was also doing other work for 
 his College : — 
 
 %th July 18G6. 
 
 " This place is very quiet. I have got a great deal to 
 do in the Museums, which I think it politic to get done as 
 soon as possible : that when I am free nothing may impede 
 a continued absence on the continent. Also Sedley Taylor ^ 
 has delegated to me no sinecure. The looking after all 
 these alterations entails incessant labour — and what with 
 Arthur,^ the Master, and the Seniority my hands are 
 quite full. The Hall will be wonderful. I hope to carry 
 
 ^ J. was now acting as Junior Bursar for a time, as Deputy to Mr. 
 Sedley Taylor, and the Great Combination Room was then done up under 
 his direction, as well as the Hall. 
 
 ^ The well-known decorator.
 
 I02 y. as a bachelor 
 
 a new system of lighting — a great effect in brasswork. 
 The M[agister] C[ollegii] is favourable. I have been to Ely 
 to-day to confer with that great man. The Bishop was ill 
 — knocked up with the Conference of Rural Deans, of 
 which the M.C. gave a very sarcastic account. 
 
 " Are not these public events almost past belief? I am 
 delighted on the whole — especially at the magnificent 
 position Napoleon has achieved, really by sheer force of 
 superior intellect. And we are very rightly served in 
 being completely left out. As a thorough Italian, I feel 
 bound to sympathise with Prussian successes : and I am so 
 thankful for the upset of Hanover, Darmstadt, Nassau, 
 ike. There will be fewer Germans for our Royal people to 
 marry. 
 
 "People dine in Combination Room, I am told, in a 
 Christian manner. I am going to order matting- for it 
 to-morrow. Only fancy, they had taken up the carpet, 
 and Hoppett, &c., went clumping about on the bare 
 boards like so many ponies ! " 
 
 As Mr. Gray writes, J. " was always ' after ' improving 
 things — the finances of the A.D.C., the lighting of the Hall, 
 the warming of the Trinity Library," when he was acting 
 librarian. Mr. Gray rightly adds, "Think what that cost in 
 overcoming centuries of prejudice ! " In 1866 he was also 
 warming, and, as the letter already quoted shows, decorating 
 the Hall. The idea of putting a large tent in Nevile's Court 
 for a Ball, when the Prince and Princess of Wales visited 
 Cambridge in 1865, was also his, and he carried out many of 
 the details connected therewith. 
 
 In fact, in the middle of the sixties J. was still "planning 
 this and planning that," and had not " found himself." To his 
 now failing father he was somewhat of a disappointment, and 
 they differed a good deal about money matters. When I 
 knew him, J. was in this matter so careful that he entered in a 
 book each stamp he used for the A.D.C. and for the many 
 other organisations he managed, and although he ever exercised 
 a rather splendid hospitality, and could be at times, as I have 
 said before, most generous, he never would tolerate waste.
 
 Lord Desart 103 
 
 Here I may interpolate an appreciation kindly written for 
 me by Lord Desart, who as Hamilton Cuffe was at Trinity 
 from 1866 to 1869:— 
 
 " I went up to Trinity in October 1866, and shortly after 
 my arrival was elected a Member of the A.D.C., where 
 I first met J. W. Clark, who had just ceased to be a Fellow 
 of the College. I had, before going to Cambridge, fre- 
 quently acted in private theatricals, and to J. W. a love 
 for acting and some knowledge of the Drama constituted 
 ties which obliterated differences of age and position. His 
 interest in the A.D.C. and in the Undergraduates who 
 took part, or desired to take part, in the performances 
 was intense, and mine was only one among many cases in 
 which membership of the A.D.C. led to an acquaintance 
 which developed year by year into the closest ties of 
 friendship. J. W."s enthusiasms in many directions were 
 inspiring, and his manner of expressing them sometimes 
 rather overpowering, while the charm to a young man of 
 the total absence of anything approaching ' side' or asser- 
 tion of his position, and of the terms of perfect equality 
 on which he met the youngest undergraduate, was great 
 indeed. We never thought of him as a Don, but as one 
 of ourselves — and it was only when in conversation we 
 realised the breadth of his thought and the range of his 
 learning, that we fully appreciated the value of the gift 
 of his friendship. 
 
 " At his mother's hospitable table at Scroope House, 
 before he married, and in his and his cultivated and 
 devoted wife's house later on, we who were privileged to 
 be his friends met not only our contemporaries but former 
 undergraduates and resident fellows, of whom I princi- 
 pally recall Prof. Newton, Mr. Percy Hudson (now Canon 
 Pemberton), and my distinguished friend still with us, 
 Dr. Henry Jackson. 
 
 " J. W. was at that time ' Superintendent ' (I think that 
 was the name of his office) of the Museum of Zoology 
 and Comparative Anatomy, and he often gave any of us 
 who cared for it the privilege of a morning there among 
 his subjects, and brought for us dry bones to life. 
 
 " I left Cambridge in 1869. Afterwards, when at the 
 Bar, I always stayed with him on Circuit at Cambridge,
 
 104 y' ^^ ^ bachelor 
 
 and frequently at other times, till his death, while we 
 often met in London. 
 
 "His family life was perfect, as it seemed to me. 
 His fount of perennial youth never failed, and to young 
 or old he was the equal in age, with the same interests 
 and enthusiasms as those when I first knew him — the 
 same unselfishness and desire of making others happy — 
 with the gift for attaining that end. 
 
 " Of his University career I can say little of my own 
 knowledge, but he often talked to me of it, and I know 
 that the work was to him no mere duty, but an earnest 
 desire for the best that could be attained. He was an 
 eager controversialist and did not spare opponents, but 
 I do not think differences of opinion ever led to personal 
 bitterness against him, for anything he said or did in his 
 public life was the outcome of obvious sincerity and desire 
 to do what was right without any touch of personal ambi- 
 tion, or seeking of personal ends. 
 
 " His high character, his personal charm, his many 
 interests, made his friendship to me among my most 
 valued possessions, and I doubt whether there was any 
 man at Cambridge of his time whose close friends could 
 be found to range over so wide an area, or to include 
 men belonging to so many generations of those who had 
 passed through the University." 
 
 In the summer of 1867, J. went with Henry Powell to 
 Paris, where as usual he spent several days dining and visiting 
 the Fran^^ais ; later they made a short tour in Normandy, and 
 returned in time to attend David Powell's wedding in July. 
 During these years he saw a good deal of Sir William 
 (then Mr.) Flower, Curator of the Museum of the Royal College 
 of Surgeons, later Director of the Natural History Depart- 
 ment of the British Museum, who, by the way, subsequently 
 shared with Henry Powell the responsibility of being god- 
 father to J.^'s second boy, Willy. J. and Flower were always 
 on the best of terms, and were mutually helpful in many ways. 
 Other zoologists who visited him from time to time, and who 
 took a lively interest in his Museum, were Professor Rolleston 
 of Oxford, Mr. O. Salvin, Dr. Giinther of the British Museum,
 
 He7i?y yackson 105 
 
 Dr. P. L. Sclater, Secretary of the Zoological Society, Professor 
 Boyd Dawkins, Colonel H. W. Feilden, and Professors Marsh 
 and Agassiz from the United States, Mr. Du Cane God man, and 
 many others. Other helpful friends in his Museum work were 
 Professor Milne Edwards of the Jardin des Plantes, Professor 
 Gervais, and Professor Perrier, and J. seldom visited Paris 
 without seeing them. 
 
 There are many who have very pleasant memories of travel 
 with J. Professor Henry Jackson writes : — 
 
 "J. was a quite delightful travelling companion. In 
 the earlier part of the long vacation of 1868 I had been 
 with my friend and colleague, Mr. Joseph Prior, first 
 at Marienbad, where he took the waters and dieted, and 
 later at Ischl, where he recruited after the cure. Towards 
 the end of August, J. joined us on the way to Vienna; 
 and in that delightful capital we spent eight or nine days. 
 We saw Faust and Lucrezia Borgia at the old opera-house, 
 and Torquato Tasso, Marie Stuart, and Ad?'ienne Lecou- 
 vreur at the Hof burg theatre. We frequented the great 
 picture galleries. We visited the gardens of Schonbrunn. 
 Under the guidance of a friendly professor we walked to 
 the Leopoldsberg, and saw the panorama of the Danube. 
 Presently Prior left us to go home, and J. and I started 
 for Graz and Trieste. Our scheme had been to go to 
 Corfu ; but we found that, if we were to do so, we should 
 have to wait a week or more for a boat; so we revised our 
 plans, and crossed the Adriatic to Venice. 
 
 " I think that we were there no more than four or five 
 days : but J. knew Venice well, and he was a born cicerone. 
 We saw a great deal ; and, what is more, we saw it com- 
 fortably. I never felt that I was being hustled. The 
 truth is that J.'s talent for organisation served him well 
 in travel as in everything else. In planning the order of 
 the day's sight-seeing he was as careful as he was in put- 
 ting a play upon the stage : and there was the same atten- 
 tion to scenic effect. For example, he contrived that I 
 should have my first view of St. Mark's from a particular 
 angle of the piazza. (In the same way at Rome, bringing 
 me from behind the Palazzo del Senatore, he exclaimed, 
 ' That is the Forum ! ' I regret to say that in this instance
 
 io6 y. as a bachelor 
 
 the coxip de tJudtre was unsuccessful : for at that time the 
 authorities were busily manufacturing antiquities on the 
 spot, and I was brutal enough to answer : ' That stone- 
 mason's yard?') At Venice, as indeed everywhere, we 
 thought first and chiefly of pictures : but we found time 
 to go to Murano, and even to remote, lonely, primitive, 
 Torcello. jVIoreover, we bought innumerable photographs, 
 which afterwards caused us perpetual annoyance. For 
 at every custom-house the inspector called upon us to 
 open the bulky parcel : and it was only by eloquence and 
 bribery that J. succeeded in staving off the inconvenient 
 demand. Of course he always had his way : the parcel 
 reached England unopened. 
 
 " We stayed for a night or two at Padua, at Verona, at 
 Mantua, at Parma, at Bologna. I think that J. had seen 
 all these cities long ago : but his interest was as fresh as 
 ever, and he heartily enjoyed introducing a novice to 
 them. For, to me, Italy, except Genoa, Milan, the lake 
 of Como, and Turin, was a tei^a incognita. We talked 
 much about many things. In particular we had a stand- 
 ing controversy about Childe Harold. J. held firmly that 
 the traveller in Italy should take Childe Harold as his 
 vade niecum : and accordingly we bought a copy at Venice, 
 and had it constantly in hand. Unluckily the time had 
 come when I cared more for Browning than for Byron : 
 and I shocked J., not only by saying that the raison d''etre 
 of Childe Harold was to provide Murray with conven- 
 tional quotations for his red guide-books, but also by 
 criticising in detail what seemed to me Byron's shoddy 
 sentiment and slovenly style. By the way, wherever we 
 went, J. })romptly found some lofty tower from which 
 he could have a bird's-eye view: and he always took the 
 very earliest opportunitv of making the ascent. He was 
 completely devoid of the infirmity of Ibsen's Master- 
 bulkier. At Parma we mounted to the drum of the dome 
 of the Cathedral, that we might have a better view of the 
 damaged frescoes : and to mv horror I saw J. composedly 
 leaning out of one of the door-like openings and resting 
 his hand upon a projecting bar. 
 
 " We spent several days at Florence. We saw Salvini 
 — not yet known in England — both in a piece called John 
 Milton and in a prose version of Othello. As Othello, 
 Salvini was amazing : and he had an excellent lago. It
 
 Henry yackson 107 
 
 was, I think, at Florence that we saw and enjoyed // 
 Matrhnomo Segreto. We stayed next at Arezzo, Perugia, 
 Assisi, Terni. In Umbria we journeyed in a leisurely 
 fashion, sometimes taking the train, sometimes driving, 
 sometimes walking. Several of our walks are still fresh 
 in my recollection. I think of Cortona with a herd 
 of white oxen congregated before the gate ; of I^ake 
 Trasimene, where we speculated about the battle ; and 
 of the Clitumnus and its source. Then again at the 
 gate of the modern cemetery of Perugia there was a 
 dispute which reminded me of one of Virgil's eclogues. 
 There were three persons concerned. J. pleaded that 
 a Perugian cabman had contracted, for a sum named, 
 to take us to an Etruscan cemetery at some little 
 distance from the city: the cabman replied that, for so 
 small a sum, he could not think of taking us, and 
 could not be expected to take us, further than to the 
 modern cemetery : and a casual passer-by, having heard 
 the arguments, gave his award, which was, of course, 
 in favour of the cabman. It was, I think, at Terni, 
 after a drive through wild country, that, when we had 
 dined comfortably, J. said, ' Do you know, I thought this 
 morning that we were in for brigands ! ' 'So did I,' was 
 my answer. 
 
 " We reached Rome late in September. J. knew Rome 
 almost as well as he knew Venice : and he 'staged-managed' 
 me, if I may be allowed the phrase, with his customary 
 skill and kindness. We made it our rule to see what was 
 important twice, and we did not try to see everything. I 
 think that we were in Rome no more than eight or nine 
 days : but I found at my next visit — when, by the way, 
 Rome had ceased to be Papal — that I had seen more of 
 what was best worth seeing than many who had resided 
 for months. At last the dav came when we must drink 
 at the fountain of Trevi and apply for our passports. 
 Then, having recovered our photographs, which we had not 
 been allowed to take into the city, we went to Leghorn ; 
 from Leghorn by sea to Genoa ; from Genoa to Turin ; 
 from Turin over the Cenis by the Fell mountain railway 
 to Paris. I think that we saw Le Due Job at the Theatre 
 Fran^ais. 
 
 "I regard the long vacation of 1868 as one of the best 
 times of my life. During the first half of it I was begin-
 
 io8 y. as a bachelor 
 
 ning to know something of Germany and of German 
 literature, and I heartily enjoyed my weeks with Prior at 
 Marienbad and in the Salzkammergut. But Italy, with 
 its beauty and its associations, has a fascination peculiar 
 to itself: and then there was, what I now first fully realised, 
 the delight of the wandering life. Of course J. and I had 
 our discomforts and our explosions. In an Italian railway 
 carriage one of us would say, ' Parasite on the left ankle,' 
 to which the other would answer, ' Mine is under the right 
 knee.' In those days many notes issued by provincial banks 
 had only a limited circulation. So it was necessary for us, 
 when we left a place, to get rid of our local paper. If by 
 any accident J. still had local notes in his possession, he 
 invariably offered them to the ticket clerk at the railway 
 station, and the ticket clerk invariably refused them. 
 Then there would be a scene. J. would wax eloquent : 
 and, when I began involuntarily to laugh, English ' swear 
 words ' addressed to me contrasted comically with voluble 
 invocations of saints addressed to the original offender. 
 Once he seized the ticket clerk in his box, and shook 
 him violently. Once he tore up a note which a waiter 
 had refused, and flung the pieces in his face. But all this 
 was part of the game. The squall blew over as quickly as 
 it had arisen. Tov/ards the end of our time together, 
 there were conversations which I have always gratefully 
 remembered. In 1868 J. still thought of addressing him- 
 self seriously to zoological work, and he never missed an 
 opportunity of adding to his catalogue of skeletons of 
 whales. 
 
 " I was with J. and others at Paris on several occasions. 
 In particular, at Easter, 1868, Montagu Tabor and I, and 
 J. and Alfred George Day, followed very nearly the same 
 route to the south of France, sometimes joining company, 
 sometimes separating. Together, we drove to the Camargue, 
 that we might see the bulls at home ; we saw the nine 
 selected bulls make their solemn entrance into Aries; we 
 watched the bull-baiting in the amphitheatre; and we 
 admired the Arlesiennes and their picturesque black and 
 white costume. A few days later, April 17, J. and I 
 walked from Nice, by Ville Franche and Eze, to La Turbie, 
 and thence descended to Monaco. There, some members 
 of the party lost their money : one lost his temper : 
 another, who had not played, left early the next morning.
 
 His Love of France 109 
 
 that he might not receive notice to quit the hotel. At 
 Paris in those days, J. having not yet found out the hotel 
 which he frequented in his later years, we used to establish 
 ourselves at the Hotel du Louvre, au quatrieme ; and in 
 general we dined at Tissofs, the Boeuf a la mode in the 
 Rue de Valois. (The mention of this restaurant reminds 
 me how once, when J. had ordered the dinner, Alfred 
 George Day, more in sorrow than in anger, uttered the 
 words, ' Two white meats ! J. W. ! ! What a solecism ! ! ! ') 
 As a matter of course, we went to the theatre every night. 
 "In the foregoing paragraphs, I have tried to recall 
 happy days spent in J.'s company long ago : I have not 
 attempted to describe his accomplishments, his versatility, 
 or his sincere and affectionate nature. But there is one 
 thing which I cannot leave unsaid : during the half century 
 which has passed since I began to know him in 1862, he 
 and his have always been to me and mine the kindest 
 and truest of friends." 
 
 Several times I, too, have travelled with him in France ; once 
 when he was weak, recovering from an illness, and even unable 
 to enjoy his much-beloved French cookery, yet something in the 
 French air always gave him fresh life, and he was bright, full 
 of energy — tonjours gai. He would be indefatigable in sight- 
 seeing, and his knowledge of architecture, of monastic orders, of 
 libraries, knowledge he never tired of imparting, without in 
 the least wearying one, made him — and here is a point I must 
 record at once or I may forget it later : J. never was and never 
 could be the least bit of a bore — made him the most cheerful 
 and delightful of companions. He spoke French fluently, and 
 liked to speak it, and had a peculiar gift of getting on well 
 with " our lively friend the Gaul." All the little officialisms 
 of our friends which, had they occurred in this island, would 
 have led to a series of violent explosions, were in France ac- 
 cepted as natural to the scenery, and passed by with many polite 
 phrases and much lifting of hats. In Paris, J. always stayed 
 at a little hotel in the Rue St. Roch which, I confess, when he 
 first took me to it, struck me as extraordinarily stuffy. It con- 
 sisted of two contiguous houses, each with a single narrow
 
 1 1 o y. as a bachelor 
 
 staircase, from which opened on each side and on each floor a 
 little room, furnished with red plush and faded gilt. Each 
 room had a loudly ticking and pretentious gilt clock, animated 
 by some horrible pneumatic agency, so that the only way I 
 could find of stopping mine was by putting pieces of sponge 
 into its interior. There was no thi'ough ventilation, every 
 window opened on to the noisiest of streets; there was no lift, 
 and the staircase was as high as Loudon Dodd^s after the 
 Roussillon ; yet J. liked it, and returned to it again and again 
 till his death. 
 
 Ever since his resignation. Dr. Clark had been failing more 
 and more in health, and for long before his death was confined 
 to his own rooms. On the 15th of September 1869 he died, 
 an event recorded with Spartan brevity by that indefatigable 
 gardener, his wife, in her diary — " Sept. 15th : Dr. Clark died 
 3.30, in his eighty-second year. Gathered Louise-Bonne 
 pears." 
 
 Mrs. Clark had devoted herself to the care of her husband 
 throughout his long illness, and had not left Cambridge for 
 a single day for some years; and now J. wisely took his 
 mother away, first to Devonshire, and later for some months 
 to the Riviera. They were abroad again in September 1870, 
 and were at Bellinzona on 3rd September, when, at luncheon, 
 as Mrs. Clark records, " a telegram was brought in announcing 
 that the Emperor of the French had been taken prisoner " ; 
 later they were in Venice when the news came of the entry, 
 on 20th September, of the Italian army into Home through 
 the breach in the w^alls at Porta Pia. " The city was 
 en J^te — banners, illuminations, San Marco and the shops 
 all closed." They returned by Bale, Strasburg, Mannheim, 
 Cologne, and apparently were in no way incommoded by the 
 military operations. If he had been, J. would have mentioned 
 it, for he did not like the Germans and he never concealed his 
 dislikes. 
 
 J.\s contemporaries in the early and middle sixties un- 
 doubtedly regarded him as little better than a gifted, versatile
 
 His Versatility 1 1 1 
 
 dilettante. It was suerffested that he should issue a card : 
 "Balls, Funerals, and Theatricals attended." It was recog- 
 nised that he could work, and work hard, at some heavy task 
 such as the muniments of Trinity, for three weeks or a month, 
 and then the interest seemed suddenly to evaporate, and the 
 work hardly begun was hastily dropped. Then, as later, he 
 was doing an amazing number of things — hunting, arranging 
 private theatricals — like Nicholas Nickleby, he adapted French 
 plays and took a hand in coaching the company and in 
 painting the scenery — going perpetually into society, arranging 
 and cataloguing the Museum of Zoology, collecting and setting 
 up specimens, writing the Reports of the Museums and Lecture 
 Rooms Syndicate, helping in the construction of the new 
 Science Buildings, taking an active part in University affairs, 
 giving popular lectures, tutoring, and occasionally teaching, 
 collecting books, travelling, and gardening. Later in life he 
 gave up hunting and dancing, but he even increased this 
 catalogue by further activities : on the scientific side by the 
 writing of zoological papers and the delivery of zoological 
 lectures, and on the literary side by his treatises on architec- 
 ture, monasteries, and the care of books. He was attaining 
 greater concentration, greater persistency, and, if one may use 
 a trade unionist's expression, his numerous activities were being 
 " keyed up."" 
 
 Without being in any of these activities, except perhaps in 
 archaeology, quite in the first flight, J. in after life achieved 
 distinction in many paths, and a distinction which would have 
 pleased and satisfied many a specialist ; but at the time we 
 are writing about we can only say he was rather like a super- 
 Skimpole, without Harold Skimpole's selfishness and disregard 
 for others. Like Skimpole, he was an attractive, spoilt child 
 — to some extent he remained so to the end, but in these days 
 his whims, his caprices, and his petulance were far more marked 
 than later, though he never lost them. On the other hand, he 
 soon shed the irresponsibility and the waywardness of his 
 younger days.
 
 112 y. as a bachelor 
 
 His father's illness and death, and his mother's need of him 
 at home, were the first influences which helped to bring about 
 the change. Although outwardly it would never have done 
 for J. to take too prominent a part in directing the establish- 
 ment at Scroope House — his mother was far too imperious to 
 tolerate iliat — yet his wonderful gift of getting the best out 
 of servants must have had a soothing effect on the household ; 
 at any rate we hear less of the devastating domestic troubles 
 which disturbed J/s boyhood. Towards the end of the sixties, 
 Mrs. Clark and her son were giving, nearly every Sunday 
 evening, those delightful, small dinners, mostly purely domestic 
 and informal, which will never be forgotten by anyone who 
 was privileged to take part in them. To the guests the house 
 seemed admirably ordered. 
 
 As we have seen, as far back as 1864 J. made allusion to the 
 family of Sir Andrew Buchanan, at that time Ambassador at 
 Berlin ; from time to time one of his sons is mentioned either 
 as dining with J. in town or spending a day or two at Scroope 
 House. He had been great friends, as I have already men- 
 tioned, with Edward Buchanan, who died in 1870, and after- 
 wards with Andrew, a younger brother. As time goes on, these 
 entries become more frequent, and towards the end of July 
 1872, Eric Buchanan ^ and his sister. Miss Frances Matilda 
 Buchanan, spent a week at Scroope House. The diaries are as 
 meagre as ever, but for once J. abandons the daily entry of 
 where he dined, and records that he went with Miss Buchanan 
 to Ely on one day, and on another took Miss Buchanan in a 
 boat on the Cam. On the 25th January of the following year 
 Mrs. Clark records, "John engaged to Fanny Buchanan at 
 Pau." J.'s entry of the same date is "Fine day. F. B. 
 accepted me." 
 
 ^ The present Baronet.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 J/S MARRIAGE 
 
 The best thing J. ever did was to propose to and marry Miss 
 Frances Matilda Buchanan. There had been some feeling of 
 hesitation on the part of Miss Buchanan's family as to the 
 expediency of the engagement on account of the great diver- 
 gence of age, J. being twelve years her senior, but never was a 
 union more complete or more absolutely happy. J.'s perennial 
 youth of spirit, the keynote of all that made his life such a 
 fine thins: and so worth v of record, bridged the difference in 
 years, while his highly-trained brain acted as a constant stimulus 
 to her intellectual power, making her capable of taking keen 
 interest in all his many and varied pursuits. On the other 
 hand, all J.'s friends soon found out what a softening and 
 mellowing influence the constant companionship of one of the 
 best of women could exercise over a nature whose angles had 
 never had much chance of being smoothed down in domestic 
 life. Devoted as he was to his mother, their strong wills 
 inevitably came at times into collision. Mrs. J. was always 
 the peacemaker on such occasions, and her unobtrusive goodness 
 and intense spirituality awakened a response in J. and made a 
 Churchman of him to an extent that might have seemed 
 impossible to those who knew him in his unorthodox youth. 
 Two instances of this may be quoted. In 1901 he became 
 Churchwarden of his parish church, St, Mary"'s the Less, as 
 successor to the late Mr. J. Hamblin Smith, and serving in this 
 capacity until his death, was tireless in his efforts to raise 
 money for Church purposes, while in the last year of his life 
 he joined the Committee which organised a great meeting in 
 the Guildhall in defence of the Athanasian Creed, and enter- 
 
 113 jj
 
 114 ^''-^ ^Marriage 
 
 tained Lord Halifax who was the principal speaker. He meant 
 to have spoken himself, had not his doctors stopped him at the 
 last moment from going to the meeting. 
 
 INIiss F. M. Buchanan was the second daughter of Sir Andrew 
 Buchanan (1807-1882), a diplomatist who served his country 
 in almost every European state and two transatlantic capitals. 
 
 Sir Andrew entered the Diplomatic Service in 1825, and for 
 a time was at the Embassy at Constantinople ; in 1830 he was 
 attache at Rio de Janeiro, but returned to take part in Sir 
 Stratford Canning's special Embassy to the Porte (1831-2), 
 After a few years at Washington he again took part in a 
 second special Embassy to the Turkish Government, that of 
 Sir Charles Vaughan (1837-8). Later in the year he was 
 at Petersburg, then at Florence (1841-4), and Petersburg 
 again as Secretary of Legation from 1844 till 1851. There 
 Mrs. J. was born. In the next ten years he resided successively 
 at Berne, Copenhagen, Madrid, and The Hague. In 1862 he 
 was Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to the 
 King of Prussia ; in 1864, Ambassador Extraordinary to Russia ; 
 and in 1871-1878, Ambassador to Austria. Sir Andrew retired 
 from the Diplomatic Service in 1878, but only lived four years 
 to enjoy his pension. He had been made K.C.B. in 1860, and 
 G.C.B. in 1866, and sworn a Privy Councillor in 1863. He 
 received his baronetcy the year he retired. Sir Andrew had 
 married, in 1839, Frances Katharine, daughter of the Very Rev, 
 Edward Meliish, Dean of Hereford, who died in 1854. Amonp-st 
 his other children were the Right Hon. Sir George Buchanan, 
 since 1910 Ambassador at Petersburg, and Lady Bonhani, 
 whose husband was Minister at Belgrade and later at Berne. 
 
 The engagement gave great pleasure to J.'s Cambridge 
 friends. The following is the letter of congratulation sent 
 him by Professor Newton : — 
 
 1 Feh. 1873. 
 
 " My dear Clauk, — I congratulate you with all my heart. 
 I am so unlucky as seldom or never to be surprised, and 
 your news does not astound me, and yet I am no wiser
 
 itAlfred ^}(ewt07i 115 
 
 than my neighbours. Read the riddle as you like. I 
 don't profess to say I knew, before I got your letter, how- 
 to "chercher la femme," but that there was a someone 
 I felt morally certain for the greater part of last term. 
 
 I have arranged with William Stubbings and Bridge that 
 a function involving the benevolence of the Hymeneal 
 deities shall be performed on an early day in front of 
 the skeleton (alas, unarticulated !) of Bison europaeus. To 
 do this with proper effect there are certain obstacles — e.g. 
 the north court of the Museum yard is, as you know 
 like a stone-mason''s shop, and though one of the blocks 
 may serve as an altar, the oolite chippers will not form 
 an appreciative audience. Again the inner yard (and 
 indeed, for the matter of that, the whole place) is over- 
 run by Michael Foster's dogs — I actually found four (4) 
 loose to-day (and you may imagine, or rather you can't 
 imagine, my wrath) — so that I dare not have a valuable 
 skeleton like a Zebra's exposed to their teeth. Still I 
 hope the affair will come oft* with becoming solemnity. 
 
 "But joking apart, I am sure I wish you every happi- 
 ness and I trust also that your marriage will add to that 
 of your mother, to whom, as time gets on, the gaining 
 of a daughter will or ought to be an increasing comfort. 
 
 " We buried poor old Sedgwick ^ to-day ; the funeral was 
 very well conducted, but the weather was bitterly cold. 
 However, I dressed myself a Farctique, and am none the 
 worse. I was requested to be at Trinity Lodge at \ 
 
 II precisely. I got there at 11^, and found myself in 
 lots of time. All the ' swells ' assembled in the big 
 dining-room, and we were ex necessitate rigged out in 
 gloves and scarves. The minor dignitaries met in the 
 Combination Room, and fell into the procession as it 
 came round the court. I have no idea how many people 
 joined — perhaps 300. We had the Bishops of Ely and 
 Norwich; Stanley, who looked as if he should have liked 
 to carry off" the corpse to his own collection at West- 
 minster; Walpole, Beresford Hope, the inevitable Airy, 
 sundry Deans, a few Lords, Masters of public schools and 
 the Mayor of Cambridge. My own order (and Sedgwick's) 
 was of course very strongly represented, in fact I think 
 Vernon Harcourt was the only absentee. ... So we walked 
 
 1 Professor of Geology, 1818-1873.
 
 ii6 y.^s J^arriage 
 
 round the court in a shower of sleet. The Master, Deans, 
 Chaplains and Choir met us at the big Gate and sang us 
 into the chapel. . . . Hotham read the lesson, and the 
 
 iMaster of sat by the side of the head undertaker, who 
 
 from the use he made of his prayer book appeared to be 
 the more devout Chi'istian of the two, ... It is usual to 
 extol the beauty of our funeral service, and good it 
 certainly is in a small way — a country churchyard for 
 instance — but it is a failure on a large scale, with a choir. 
 — Now, good-bye, Yours very truly, 
 
 " Alfred Newton." 
 
 The year 1873 was a busy year for J. He made five visits 
 abroad in the first nine months to see Miss Buchanan — twice 
 in the spring to Pau, once to Paris, and in the autumn twice 
 to Vienna, where his future father-in-law was then British 
 Ambassador. On one of these journeys he records that he 
 travelled in an " American sleeping car." 
 
 It had been arranged that J. and his bride should live at 
 
 No. 1 Scroope Terrace, but first it was necessary to get rid 
 
 of the then occupier. In the following letter he tells Miss 
 
 Buchanan how he did it : — 
 
 Scroope House, Cambridge, 
 March 9, 1878. 
 
 " I went to see my tenant, Mr. S , yesterday. After 
 
 waiting some time on the doorstep the door opened about 6 
 inches, and a very dirty hand placed on the step a broken 
 sauceboat with a halfpenny in it. The owner of the hand 
 
 evidently mistook me for the milkman ! ' Is Mr. S 
 
 in .f^ ' I inquired. The face belonging to the hand thereupon 
 showed round the door, and was seen to be extremely 
 dirty, like the hand, and both belonged, I take it, to a 
 charwoman. ' I believe he is," she replied; 'did you want 
 to see him 't ' ' Well, I suppose I should not have come 
 here if I had not,' I answered, not in the best of tempers. 
 Then I sent my card in, and presently was admitted. 
 When I got in my heart died within me, as one might say. 
 You never saw a house in such a state — never, save in 
 some miserable court or back alley in a bad part of London. 
 However, I dare say that an able-bodied charwoman scrub-
 
 I Scroope Terrace 117 
 
 bing every day for a week will do wonders; and I shall 
 take care to have the place painted and papered from top 
 
 to bottom. Mr. S I found seated in his study, on 
 
 the floor of which was a substance that had once been a 
 carpet of the Turkey sort, but now a mass of rags. In 
 the middle of the room was a sort of island, formed by a 
 round table covered with books and papers, with writing 
 materials, &c., and tolerably clean and tidy ; but all 
 around was an angry sea of torn papers, volumes pitched 
 hither and thither, etc. etc., and all covered with thick 
 dust. I must own that the cleanest thing in the room 
 was the master thereof. He was civil and friendly, as he 
 always is, and expressed his willingness — nay, anxiety, to 
 go out at once. 1 said I did not want him to go before 
 Midsummer, really wishing him to go at Michaelmas ; but 
 I thought if I said the earlier date I should be sure to get 
 rid of him when I actually wanted him gone. I said I 
 would do all I could to help him, and so we parted. I 
 shall go to a house-agent to-morrow, and set him off 
 making inquiries for a house for him."" 
 
 The following fragment seems to have been written, to 
 Miss Buchanan, from Ratisbon after J.'s second visit to Vienna 
 in the autumn of this year : — 
 
 " . . . It is very nice to think that we are once more in 
 direct communication. Forgive me anything I may have said 
 in my anxiety. David said in his haste, ' All men are liars,' 
 and he was not far wrong. Perhaps the Poste Restante at 
 Jerusalem had detained a letter from Bathsheba — who 
 knows ? And I shall certainly never believe a Poste 
 Restante official again. . . ." 
 
 The following was sent by J. to his mother during his 
 first visit to Vienna, which occupied most of August : — 
 
 Vienna, ^th August 1873. 
 
 " As Fanny has sent you such a long description of the 
 Fete at Schonbrunn, I need not dilate upon it at length. 
 It was very amusing to see for once, but it struck me forcibly 
 that life in those lofty regions must be dull, to judge by 
 the bored expression of all the faces. It is wonderful
 
 1 1 8 y.'s 3V[arriage 
 
 that people like the Emperor or Empress, who have spent 
 their lives in receiving visitors, should have so little to say 
 to them. He looks as shy and awkward as if he was 
 receivinjT for the first time : and she, though she is the most 
 graceful and beautiful creature in the world, has not a 
 word to say for herself. She is singularly attractive — 
 a marvellous mixture of a girl and a woman, being thirty- 
 eight years old, with the look of seventeen : and her long hair 
 hanging down to her waist increases the youthful effect." 
 
 The wedding took place from the house of an uncle of Miss 
 Buchanan, No. 33 Lowndes Square, on the 9th December 1873. 
 This uncle, a bachelor, Sir George Mellish, who in 1870, on the 
 death of Sir George Giffard was appointed Lord Justice of 
 Appeal in Chancery and a member of the Privy Council, made a 
 London home for his nephews and nieces. When he died in 
 1877, Lady Bonham bought the remainder of the lease of this 
 house. They were married in Trinity Church, Sloane Square, 
 and later J. and Mrs, J. left for the south coast, but returned to 
 Scroope House for Christmas. Before leaving for their real 
 honeymoon journey they moved their furniture into No. 1 Scroope 
 Terrace, and on the 7th January 1874 they started on a trip to 
 Algeria, which lasted just four months. J. kept a full diary, but, 
 except in so far as he was trying to collect specimens for the 
 Museum, their experiences differed but little from those of 
 other travellers in Algeria, and it seems unnecessary to quote from 
 it at any length. While in Algeria, with his usual energy, he 
 revised Murray's Guide to that portion of Northern Africa. 
 
 The following extracts from two letters from Professor 
 Newton to J. while in Algeria are typical of the Professor's 
 humour and attitude to the Museum and to the University. 
 To all who knew and loved the Professor his statement that 
 "if they want to bargain with me they must agree to my 
 terms " is essentially characteristic ; like the China Shepherdess, 
 the Professor was "always open to discussion," but, like the 
 Rev. Septimus Crisparkle's mother, he always looked as if 
 he would " like to see the discussion that would change his 
 mind " :—
 
 ^Ige 
 
 ria 119 
 
 Cabibridge, 1%th February 1874. 
 
 " I have to thank you for your two agreeable letters 
 of the 16th and 21st. I am delighted to find that your 
 excursion into Kabylia answered so well. It must have 
 been luxurious — driving about in a carriage, and within 
 range of Lions ! Mercy on me, I should have thought 
 all the time of the myth of the Salisbury Mail Coach 
 and the fugitive from Wombwell. A Lion's ( J ) skeleton 
 must be had. Pray apply the screw to Play fair, so that 
 he will screw General Chanzy. Caracals and Gazelles 
 are very well in their way, but if you were to bring 
 back a shipload no one would (myself excepted) think 
 the better of you, whereas if you bring back a Lion you 
 at once become metamorphosed into its metaphorical 
 equivalent, and even Heads may ask you to dinner. The 
 Fish collection also I greatly applaud — the more you 
 bring, the more comfortable are things likely to go here, 
 and I must say they have been looking squally. I gave 
 your message to Bridge. He had already (he told me) 
 looked out the history of Chimcera, so I said he had better 
 send it {N.B. It is a form we much want, that I have 
 known for a long time, only I don't expect you will get it 
 now), but I begged him to add that of Mura'na, which I 
 understand he has done. Nature, no doubt, would pay 
 you its usual niggardly sum for papers on Barbary Ape 
 and Lion, but its pay is so small that I have always 
 declined (ever since my first article) receiving any. If you 
 want to write for money, send your articles to the Field — 
 there they do pay. . . . 
 
 "The prevalent belief I take it to be is that the 
 Professor of Zoology ought to look after the Museum. I 
 need not say how absurd this is, but it is (I am persuaded) 
 the prevalent belief. Of course it has been easy for me 
 when I have been talked to on the subject, to show that 
 I am not required to take any part in the management of 
 the Museum. Whatever authority I have, or am supposed 
 to have, was conferred upon me after my election, and of 
 course it remains for me to refuse any part or all of such 
 authority. One notion that underlies it all, is that your 
 salary (!) may be saved to the University, which of course 
 is false, because I should never, under any circumstances, 
 take on me such additional duties without an equivalent.
 
 I20 y's Carriage 
 
 What they might do with my successor is another matter, 
 but if they want to bargain with me, they must agree to 
 my terms, and, as I have said, they may depend upon it 
 the University would in that case be the loser." 
 
 Magdalene College, \Uh March 1874. 
 
 " I have been obliged to wait for Sunday before answer- 
 ing your letter, as I have [been] so busy all this last week, 
 and there has been no particular reason for writing sooner. 
 I saw Madame Mere on Monday, and she then told me of 
 your doings on the Atlas. . . . You may depend upon it 
 that your pet scheme of abolishing the Heads never had a 
 chance of being carried out — whatever party was in office. 
 The Crown would never hear of the dethronement or aboli- 
 tion of the Master of Trinity, and so long as there was 
 such a functionary other Colleges must have their Masters. 
 The only thing that might have been done, and may yet 
 be done, is the taking care that Masterships were not sine- 
 cures, and providing means to fill them properly. Any 
 increase of salaries must come from more successful work- 
 ing of the Press — but University Officials might be united 
 with Fellowships, as many people have long thought." 
 
 On the 25th September their eldest son Edward Mellish 
 was born, and their younger son William Henry on 1st January 
 1876. 
 
 For some time the name of Frank Balfour had been recur- 
 ring at frequent intervals in J.^s meagre diaries. He was the 
 youngest and the most brilliant of Mr. A. J. Balfour's brothers, 
 and he met a tragic death in the Alps in the summer of 1882. 
 He and J. were devoted friends, J. doing all that an older 
 man could do to help forward the more distinguished career 
 of the younger. In 1875 Balfour and Milnes Marshall started 
 a class in Practical Zoology, and from that time forward 
 the subject was thoroughly well taught at Cambridge. A 
 reference to Appendix I will show that the years in the 
 middle of the seventies were very active years at the Museums, 
 J. was then writing a series of scientific papers on his 
 favourite sea-mammals and on one or two other groups, from
 
 ^erlm 1 2 1 
 
 time to time contributing a more or less popular article to the 
 magazines, and occasionally giving a popular lecture on Zoology. 
 In the summer of 1875 J. and his wife visited the Bonhams 
 at Mcidling, and whilst there J. made a short excursion to Berlin 
 to visit the Zoological Gardens and the Museums, which he 
 describes in the following letters to Mrs. J. : — 
 
 Hotel du Nord, Berlin, 
 Saturday inorning, 14 Aug. 1875. 
 
 " I have just arrived here, in the capital of my enemies, 
 after quite the most comfortable journey I ever made, 
 considering its length. I took your advice and a first-class 
 ticket — (36 gulden if you please !) and was in consequence 
 inducted by the guard into the ' Damen Coupe,' but there 
 were no Damen in it, and not until I had seen the ticket 
 denoting its intended use removed would I set foot in the 
 ill-omened vehicle. It was a pleasant little carriage, roomy 
 and well stuffed, with three seats, along which I reposed 
 comfortably. Soon after leaving Brlinn the guard came 
 and asked me if I would dine at Bohniisch-Triibau at 
 seven. So I said I would, and paid the large sum of one 
 gulden for a ticket. Seeing that we waited only 4 minutes 
 at that station, I was sorely puzzled as to what was going 
 to happen. But no sooner had we reached the place than 
 a smiling waiter appeared with a tray of white metal, on 
 which, retained in their places by rings of wire, were a 
 soup in a covered pan, a kalbsnitschel and potatoes, a dish 
 of cold meat and pickles that would have delighted Henry ,^ 
 a bottle of wine and a ditto of water (not much of either 
 to be sure), salt, pepper, bread, and knife, fork, and spoon 
 all rolled in a napkin. It was all very clean and nice and 
 hot, and about two stations on another Polite Person 
 came and removed the platter. Never, not even in my 
 dear native country,^ have I been treated so civilly by 
 guards and everybody. One must bear tribute to the 
 good qualities of one's enemies. They are a perfect people 
 — these Germans. It was so curious to see them sitting 
 quietly in the ' Restauration ' or on the Platforms at 2, 
 3, and 4 a.m., men, and women, and little children, waiting 
 for the trains." 
 
 ^ Probably Heury Powell. ^ France.
 
 122 y's J^arriage 
 
 Hotel du Nord, Berlin, 
 Sunday, 15 Aug. 1875. 
 
 "I have just got your dear letter. Dull indeed ! when 
 you have got a performing dog and two Babies ^ — don't talk 
 such rubbish ! You're like the young person 
 
 ' Who was better off than all the other boys, 
 With an old shoe, and a brickbat, and a dead kitten by way of toys I ' 
 
 " After writing to you yesterday I went and hunted up 
 
 Professor P , who lives in the University Buildings, 
 
 just opposite the Opernhaus : and as this hotel is close to 
 that end of the Unter den Linden, I am well placed. He 
 is delightful, a man of the Van Beneden type : but in science 
 far more accurate and decided. He speaks English with- 
 out a fault or an accent : and his wife, a rotund person, 
 speaks a little. So does a young lady whom I take to be 
 a sort of superior governess. There are six children, three 
 boys and three girls, the two youngest being of the latter 
 sex. They are quite charming, and talk away to me in 
 the full confidence that I must understand them. They 
 asked me to dinner yesterday, aXfour, if you please, me! ! ! 
 Over the horrors of that repast I draw a discreet veil. I 
 will only say that Trinity College Hall in the old unre- 
 generate days was comfort by comparison. When it was 
 over they took me to the Zoological Gardens. We went 
 all of us in a tram, nearly filling the vehicle. The Gardens 
 are very extensive, about sixty acres, so each animal has a 
 small paddock to disport himself in. The collection is 
 very extensive and good. Of course there is the inevitable 
 restauration and orchestra, etc. The 'entrepreneur"' pays 
 the Gardens 10,000 thalers a year — and still makes it pay ! 
 There were several hundred people eating last night to 
 the sounds of a band that ought to have given them 
 indigestion. After trailing all round the Gardens, I had 
 an eye to some food and drink, but no ! my inexorable 
 friend, on account of the children, dragged me home 
 again. Then I got to bed at last, so hungry and tired, at 
 10 P.M. Lord! how I hate all early hours. I am so 
 hungry and faint this morning that I meditate a ' bifsteck 
 niit Kartoffeln'' — so you see to what I am reduced. I 
 must say they are kindness itself. The collection is mar- 
 
 ^ Lionel and Eric Bouham.
 
 Berlin 123 
 
 vellously fine, I am very glad indeed I came. It has 
 Otarias that exist nowhere else, and even if it had not, 
 the advantage of discussing the subject with Professor 
 
 P would alone be worth the journey. The German 
 
 expedition to the South Pole has been fruitful in sea- 
 elephants, and we see at last that grand animal stuffed 
 in all the glories of his 16 feet of length, and I know not 
 what of girth, and it is a young animal too ! " 
 
 In a letter, written on the following day to his mother, 
 J. gives some amusing details of this dinner : — 
 
 " First there was a soup, of which Prof. P himself 
 
 remarked that it was thin; indeed it had a very pro- 
 nounced taste of nothing. Heaven forgive me ! I said I 
 liked it. With it was served a great mould of rice, which 
 you took portions of and put in. This appetising food 
 was succeeded by a dish of carrots and peas — both very 
 hard and old — and some ham Salter than imagination can 
 depict. After this came a large limb of a cow, called veal. 
 
 It was brown outside and pink inside, and Prof. P 
 
 carved fragments of it with a huge chopper, called a 
 carving-knife. This was succeeded by a mould of semo- 
 lina coloured a pale purple, with some skim milk that by 
 its taste had been boiled before, and that was all. The 
 one good thing was a bottle oi port-wine, which had been 
 given them by the Portuguese Minister, and was the pure 
 wine that is not to be got out of Portugal. Having 
 been up all the previous night, I hoped for rest, but no. 
 I was taken to the Zoological Gardens, which was nice 
 enough. They are very extensive and beautifully laid out, 
 with a splendid collection of animals. There was, of 
 course, the inevitable restauration, where I had an eye 
 to something to eat, but such was not to be my lot. By 
 that time it was eight o'clock, a Christian''s dinner-hour 
 in fact, so on account of the children we were all taken 
 home again. On Sunday he said, ' We dine early on 
 Sunday, at three,"' so I pleaded that I wanted to work in 
 the Museum and escaped ; for by that time I was so 
 hungry that I felt I must have some dinner, so I dined at 
 the Hotel very well indeed. However, as I said before, 
 the Museum is a splendid one : and I would go through 
 all I have done and more for the sake of it."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 J. IN HIS PRIME 
 
 In 1875 J.'s uncle, Robert Willis, Jacksonian Professor of 
 Natural and Experimental Philosophy, died. He had lived 
 partly in London and partly at 21 Park Side, Cambridge, 
 and he left one daughter, who had married Dr. Besant 
 of St. John's College, brother to the novelist, and a well- 
 known mathematical " coach." Professor Willis was a man 
 of varied attainments. He excelled as a lecturer and teacher 
 in mechanism, as an historian and antiquarian, a musician, an 
 architect, a draughtsman, and a painter ! Amongst many other 
 things he designed the West Window at St. Boto]ph''s Church 
 and the wooden ceiling of the Great Gate at Trinity. His 
 advice and help were constantly sought in the days of what used 
 to be called " The Great Gothic Revival." Professor Willis 
 had undertaken to write a work upon the Architectural and 
 Social History of the University of Cambridge, and had 
 at the time of his death accumulated a considerable amount 
 of material for the book ; but this was far from being in 
 a fit state for publication, and J., to whom he left his MSS., 
 had now to take up the matter almost de novo. 
 
 J. was also beginning to work at " The Care of Books," in 
 connection with the Architectural History, and the following is 
 a typical extract from one of his letters written to Mrs. J. when 
 on a tour of investigation into old libraries : — 
 
 Hereford, 
 
 Thursday, 28th September 1876. 
 
 "... 1 spent the day in drawing and measuring the 
 library-cases, much to my satisfaction, and discovered a 
 seco7id library of much interest in Ail Saint's Church, 
 
 124
 
 The Architectural History 125 
 
 also chained. About this, however, I have failed to ob- 
 tain any information : as those who ought to know are 
 vacant of lore on the subject. . . . Then it has rained 
 without ceasing ever since I came, and to-day it has been 
 a perfect deluge. I have done my best to complete my 
 notes on the Library, and to see the Cathedral, but with 
 difficulty." 
 
 J.'s researches for the Architectural History led him into 
 several by-lanes, and he was now reading a short series of 
 papers before the Cambridge Antiquarian Society ; one of the 
 most interesting of these on the " History of the Church of 
 St. John Baptist, Cambridge, conmionly called St. John 
 Zacharv," gives an illuminating map showing the disposition 
 of the ground before the building of King's ; another paper 
 deals with " The Old Provosfs Lodge at King"'s College, with 
 special reference to the furniture," and a third with the " His- 
 tory of the Feal of Bells belonging to King''s College." 
 
 Another short extract shows J.'s versatility. He could 
 jump from a seal's skull to Rosina Yokes, and thoroughly 
 appreciate the points of both : — 
 
 Unitp^d University Club, 
 Pall Mall East, S.W., Tlth Febrnari/ [1877J. 
 
 "... Then I went to the British Museum with a seaFs 
 skull, and saw Giinther for a moment. Then back here 
 to lunch with Georgie ^ (now fully restored to favour), 
 after which to Drury Lane, where the Vokes' are funnier 
 than ever, and one of them plays a cat in a manner 
 delightful to all lovers of animals to witness. These 
 excellent people have entirely reformed the stage as far as 
 pantomimes go and seem to have banished for ever ' legs 
 and bosoms. "* Rosina Yokes convulses the house when- 
 ever she appears ; and she wears a high dress and a long 
 petticoat." 
 
 Except as a collecting-ground for the Museum, J. held a 
 poor opinion of the seaside — he preferred Paris. Still, for the 
 
 ^ Now Sir G. W. Buchanan, British Ambassador at Petersburg, Mrs. 
 J.'s young'est brother.
 
 126 y. in his T^ri7ne 
 
 sake of the little boys he was willing to sacrifice himself, and 
 to take active measures in arranging the sacrifice : — 
 
 Cromer [1878]. 
 " I now send all the particulars, with a ground plan of 
 the different floors of the house, and my views, which I 
 cannot say are very definite. I should very much prefer 
 coming only for August, but that seems now nearly im- 
 possible. Of course if there is a war,^ this vile Government 
 of ours will clap on a shilling income-tax, and then no one 
 will stir from home. I suppose it is really necessary to 
 make the expedition. / personally, of course, would 
 infinitely prefer staying at Cambridge; but if the children 
 really require change twice a year it must be done. Other- 
 wise we might retire to the ' native land."* I think it is 
 worth considering what is to become of us in the future if 
 we accustom the chits to a yearly outing. One has only a 
 limited time at one's disposal each year; and I confess I 
 bar the sea as a permanent investment. What, however, 
 shall I do 't Shall I sign the agreement at once for the 
 three months ; or shall I boldly say I won't bind myself 
 except for two ; or shall I wait till the Bonhams arrive "^ 
 If the plan must be steadily carried out, as I suppose it 
 must, I see no reason for delay. 
 
 " As regards our own house, there is a most aggravated 
 and aggravating cleaning going on. How I wish they 
 would let the poor thing alone! Louisa^ tried to have 
 the pantry done last week, but that I peremptorily for- 
 bade. A greater enemy to scrubbing than myself does 
 not exist." 
 
 As a matter of fact J. enjoyed the six weeks he spent 
 with his family at Cromer very much, especially as he persuaded 
 Alfred Lyttelton, who was then up at Trinity and was in and 
 out of No. 1 Scroope Terrace almost as a son of the house, 
 to be one of the party. 
 
 During the years 1877-1880, J. acted as Deputy to the 
 Kegistrary, Dr. Luard, but Dr. Luard must have been back by 
 the Michaelmas term of the last-named year, for I shall never 
 
 * i.e. with Russia. The Berlin Conference was now in session^ and J. 
 was not an admirer of Lord Beaconsfield. 
 
 * The parlour-maid.
 
 Dramatic Criticism 127 
 
 forget at the matriculation of that term how furiously he 
 pounced on me for spelling my second name, Everett, with 
 three "e's,""' whereas he had seen it in some other list spelt 
 with two "e's" and an " i." He became quite heated about 
 it, and when I told him it was my name and that I must spell 
 it as / believed to be right, I thought he would have ordered 
 me to be led away to some Registrarial dungeon. 
 
 About this time J. began a series of articles and reviews 
 for the Academy, and a little later for the jSatiirday Review. 
 The majority of these dealt with French plays and the Parisian 
 theatre generally, and the writing of them gave him great 
 delight, and no doubt they were made the excuse for occasional 
 short visits to Paris : — 
 
 Hotel St. Romain, 
 8th April 1879. 
 
 " I feel quite rich at getting two letters from you by two 
 successive posts — and I am delighted at your long accounts 
 of the chits. I have finished a long article on ' liuy Bias "* 
 for the Academy and sent it off. I have taken vast pains 
 with it, and am much pleased to find that Sarcey, the great 
 critic of the Temps, thinks exactly as I do about the 
 interpretation. I finished my article before I read his. 
 
 "... You must explain to Edward that Papa cannot 
 come back quite so soon as his majesty wishes ; but that he 
 sends many kisses to him and Baby. It is very pleasant 
 to think that those little people really care about me." 
 
 At the end of July Mrs. J. went to Biarritz to see her sister, 
 Mrs. Fox, who was desperately ill, and J. accompanied her as 
 far as Paris. She left Biarritz at the beginning of September, 
 J. met her at Poitiers, and together they made a delightful 
 provincial tour, in the course of which they visited the 
 Chateaux on the Loire : — 
 
 Hotel St. Romain, 
 August 1879. 
 
 " I don't think I care much for the Exhibition. The 
 coup (Tosil is wonderful, when you enter from the Troca- 
 dero side and have that glorious view of Paris with the
 
 128 y, in his Vrime 
 
 garden and cascade at your feet. The said garden, tho'' 
 small, is beautifully laid out, and how they have managed 
 to get the trees to grow, and the grass and the flowers, 
 since April, when it was all a desert, is a mystery to me. 
 There's a lawn like King's Lawn, quite thick and smooth 
 and short, where I last saw a heap of gravel." 
 
 Hotel St. Romain, 
 August 1879. 
 
 " I had the pleasure of 3 hours with Jacques Reubell at the 
 Exposition to-day. The more I see that wonderful place, 
 the more I admire it! As for the 'partie retrospective,' 
 since the Alsace Lorraine Exhibition, such a collection 
 was never seen; and even that was not so arranged. 
 There is all the china that was ever made in France 
 represented under its different fabrics: the great towns 
 and the private collectors have all sent their treasures : 
 there is an armoury that beats almost Vienna and Dresden : 
 there is quite a library of illuminated MSS. and bindings : 
 and last but not least there is a collection of old Japanese 
 lacquer, china, and ivories dating from quite ancient 
 days. 
 
 "... The French provincials are a marvellous set. Talk 
 of British ignorance : it is wisdom compared to theirs. I 
 was in Mme. Tresse's shop the other day when a well-dressed 
 woman came in, and asked where ' la galerie de tableaux 
 du Palais RoyaF was. Considering it was sold at the 
 Revolution, her question was slightly out of date. Mme. 
 Tresse kept her countenance as only French people can, 
 and civillv dismissed her." 
 
 Hotel St. Romain, 
 August 1879. 
 
 "It is terribly hot here— so hot that I cannot walk 
 out, or do anything in fact: and am sitting at home 
 77? my ni^ht-.shirt, as the coolest vestment I can find, after 
 taking ofl* everything else. I think a storm must be 
 impending, for the sky is overcast. The glass, however, is 
 said to be rising. 
 
 " : • ; '^^^ Figaro to-day is very severe on the Conu'die 
 for its journey to England, and says a number of nasty
 
 J, at " Lord's"' 129 
 
 and unnecessary things about the poor B.P.,' which really 
 did its little best to receive them properly. 
 
 " Milne Edwards came for me this morning and carried 
 me off to breakfast at a delicious restaurant in the Champs 
 Elysees, where we sat in a shady garden, among hedges of 
 ivy, with an awning over our heads. We will go there 
 anon. I am glad to have found it out." 
 
 J. mentions in a letter to his wife the great tempest of 
 1879, which however was surpassed by an even more violent 
 storm two years later : — 
 
 1 ScRooPE Terrace, 
 Qth August 1879. 
 
 " The great news here is the storm of Saturday night, 
 which, allowing for all exaggeration, must have been severe, 
 and the floods quite extraordinary. The Cam came down 
 like a tide, and one still sees the debris it left tranquilly 
 lying in places where water rarely comes. Communication 
 between Cambridge and Newnham was cut off, and carts 
 plied to take people through the flood. Most houses have 
 had their cellars full of water, and Sabbatarian Cambridge 
 had to work all Sunday as if it were a week-day." 
 
 This summer an incident occurred, the recollection of 
 which always afforded the greatest amusement to Mrs. J. The 
 troupe of the Comedie Fran^aise (among them J.'s great 
 friend Delaunay) was acting in London, and J. of course 
 went to most of their performances. Now J., as is well known, 
 never took the faintest interest in any form of sport, except 
 hunting. Consequently he was rather nonplussed w^hen 
 Delaunay asked to be taken to a cricket match. Nothing 
 daunted, however, J. carried him off to " Lord's " to see the 
 Oxford and Cambridge match. Those who sat near them 
 were much amused at J.''s efforts in his fluent French to explain 
 the game of cricket (of which he was profoundly ignorant) to 
 his P'rench friend. 
 
 In the summer of the following year (1880) J. and Mrs. J., 
 
 ^ British public.
 
 i^o y, in his T^rime 
 
 accompanied by Mr. Lionel Cust, went to see the Ober 
 Ammergau Passion Play. Mr. Cust has described their tour 
 in Chapter X. 
 
 In 1880 J. commenced his official connection with the 
 Cambridge Amateur Dramatic Club, commonly known as the 
 A.D.C., of which he had been elected an honorary member 
 as far back as 1861. In 1880 the club celebrated the 25th 
 anniversary of its foundation by a dinner, at which the Prince 
 of Wales, afterwards King Edward the Seventh, presided, 
 followed by a very successful performance in the Club Theatre. 
 Unfortunately the social and dramatic successes of the evening 
 were somewhat marred by the consequent financial disasters, 
 the deficit amounting to over <£200. At a General Meeting 
 of the Club to consider what should be done it was decided 
 to have a permanent Graduate Treasurer. On the proposition 
 of the Hon. J. Wallop, seconded by Mr, Chisendale-Marsh, 
 J. was elected to the post, which he held till 1901, when he 
 handed over the accounts into the capable hands of Mr. Walter 
 Durnford. He was then elected Perpetual Vice-President, 
 and in that capacity remained on the Committee until his 
 death. Though J.'s life-long devotion to the stage made 
 all he did for the A.D.C. a labour of love, still his services 
 to the Club were many and varied. As far back as 1870 he 
 saved the Club from threatened suppression by the authorities. 
 He personally interviewed tutors of colleges and drafted the 
 rules under which they consented to countenance the continued 
 existence of the Club. In 1882 he arranged as Treasurer 
 for the purchase of the Club Rooms and pledged his private 
 credit to enable the scheme to be carried through. Twice J. 
 appeared in the role of author, and at all times he was ready 
 to give his assistance whether as Stage Manager in the Theatre 
 or as private coach in his house, as scene-painter, as prompter, 
 or as property man. lint it must never be forgotten that 
 everything he did for the A. B.C. he did in a simple and 
 unostentatious way. As Mr. Tatham writes in his article in 
 the Fasciculus : " Mr. Clark's influence is not to be looked for
 
 -v^^ 
 
 (t T " 
 
 J 
 
 Circa 1880 
 
 ■ photogi.
 
 l.«.'tU 
 
 . . f'OTTl ■ '.^ 
 
 nown as the 
 
 iary member 
 
 ir back a nrated the 25 th 
 
 versary ol r, at wbi'ch the Pniiv;>^ 
 
 ''3S, afterwards : enth, presided, 
 
 u' Club Theatre. 
 
 ^ of the evening 
 
 .ncial disasters, 
 
 eneral Meeting 
 
 ■■'- ^ 'i! ue uone it was decided 
 
 ' "ive -^ r. On the proposition 
 
 «»f the ! ., .vir. Chisendale-Marsh, 
 
 J- ^^'35 V:,. h^!d till 1901, when he 
 
 li" ^ ;j hands of ^,Tr. Walter 
 
 Ti\n'\ then elected P'-rpetual ident. 
 
 Committee until his 
 
 devotion to the stage made 
 
 *^1 *' 'ir of love, still his services 
 
 to tl i varied. As far back as 1870 he 
 
 eatened si 
 ed tut 
 
 
 burer 
 
 
 iiib private 
 
 
 .. Twice; J. 
 
 
 ,.. M , ready 
 
 — 
 
 - -leatre 
 
 •jue-pa' 
 
 ionipter, 
 
 never 
 
 ten that 
 
 
 iple and 
 
 
 iu 
 
 
 »r
 
 \ 
 
 
 (.(. T " 
 
 J 
 
 Circa 1880 
 
 From a photograph by A. G. Dew-Smith, M. A.
 
 The ^.D.C, 131 
 
 in written records, for it has always been quiet and unassuming. 
 Its strength will be found in the recollection of those who 
 have known him and its success in the life and prosperity 
 of the Club." 
 
 The following letter from Mrs. J.'s graphic pen to her 
 eldest sister, Mrs. Maxwell Fox, recalls vividly what many 
 must remember in an A.D.C. week or a Greek-play week 
 at 1 Scroope Terrace and afterwards at Scroope House. 
 At such times all the resources of the establishment were 
 put at the disposal of the actors; the house and often 
 J.''s rooms at the Museum were packed with scenery, pro- 
 perties, costumes, etc. Everyone caught the enthusiasm, 
 and everyone behaved as if the fate of the University, 
 if not of the Universe, depended on the success of the 
 play. Yet a friend who arrived in the midst of all the 
 confusion and excitement remembers going round the garden 
 with J. to cut flowers for the dinner table and finding him 
 amongst his many other avocations busy making a cross to 
 send to one of his assistants at the Museum who had lost a 
 child and was burying it that afternoon. This was charac- 
 teristic of his never-failing thoughtfulness in little things which 
 so endeared him to his friends of all degrees : — 
 
 'O' 
 
 1 Scroope Terrace, 
 
 \7th November 1881. 
 
 "I must send you a playbill, by which you will see the 
 names at any rate of the actors. Delicate Ground had 
 to be left out of the performance last night, as when it 
 was played the first night the curtain did not fall till 
 after 12 o^clock !— by which hour all the men ought to be 
 in College ! The omission is rather hard on M. Beylard, 
 who had taken a great deal of trouble with his part. 
 The School for Scandal was a wonderful success, especi- 
 ally — marvellous to say — the Lady Teazle, played by a 
 young fellow called Manners who has only lately joined 
 the Club. He really looked a lovely girl in the becom- 
 ing costume of the time : blue satin train over white
 
 132 y> in his T?^ime 
 
 satin, embroidered with pearls, and large blue satin hat. 
 I lent him my Saint Esprit as an ornament ! We had 
 a comic scene on the Monday, when both Mrs. Candour 
 and Lady Teazle appeared here to request me to have 
 their petticoats lengthened for them. The variety of 
 good offices one performs in Cambridge social life is very 
 amusing : one day to lend my bed-table to a man whom 
 I never heard of before but who had been disabled at 
 football, the next to turn dressmaker to the A.D.C. — To 
 return to Lady Teazle : she had the advantage of a small 
 figure and a soft voice, but what surprised one more 
 was her grace of movement and gesture in the drawinof- 
 room scenes and the real pathos to which she rose after 
 the screen falls, and the contrast is brought home to 
 her between her husband and her so-called lover. I hear 
 that she is proud (and justly so) of the smallness both 
 of her waist and feet. Agnes ^ and I are going again 
 to-morrow afternoon, when Delicate Ground will also 
 be plaved. Mr. Milner Gibson as Mrs. Candour was 
 very amusing, and gave the proper emphasis to the old 
 scandal-monger''s — ' they do say,' etc. I hope you are 
 interested in this rather long story, but you know the 
 A.D.C. is a great event in our quiet annual chronicle. 
 I was rather provoked not to have been present last 
 nis^ht when J. was called before the curtain and received 
 quite an ovation. He quite deserved it, for he has worked 
 hard at the scenery, and thanks to him and Mr. 0"'Connor,^ 
 who said he would have returned to scene-painting for 
 no one else but J., it was quite charming with all the 
 accessories of costume and furniture as perfect as they 
 could be made. It is true that we have hardlv enoup-h 
 chairs to seat our guests at dinner — all our Chippendale 
 dining-room chairs having migrated to the A.D.C, and 
 most of tlie Louis Quinze chairs in the drawing-room, 
 ditto ! but one must make these little sacrifices gladly 
 where the drama is concerned. After the performance 
 on Wednesday we went to supper at Mr. Mihier Gibson"'s 
 — the Mrs. Candour of the play. Here comes Willy : 
 ' Mamma, something dreffnl has happened : Toby has 
 fallen down and broke his back leg ! "" I am relieved 
 to find that Toby is a china dog in which Willy invested 
 
 ' .Miss Allies Mellish, cousin of Mrs. J. 
 * The well-known sceue-paiuter.
 
 The Paris Mail 133 
 
 at the bazaar and added to what he calls his ' maggery "" 
 of beasts." 
 
 Early in 1881 J. had a very unpleasant experience in the 
 Paris mail, an account of which he published in the Pall 
 Mall Gazette. Here is his narrative addressed to Mrs J. : — 
 
 Hotel St. Romain, Rue St. Roch, 
 
 \_Wednesday ,^ Idth January 1881. 
 
 " I hope you have not been anxious about not hearing 
 from me. I couldn't write, and I couldn't telegraph, at 
 least not till to-day, your cause. I left London on Monday 
 evening by the mail, and reached this this morning at 3 a.m., 
 having been thirty-one hours en route! May I never have 
 such an experience again ! First, we were late in getting 
 to Dover, having to stop frequently to test the soundness 
 of the wheels owing to the frost, then the passage took 
 three hours instead of one and a half, because first it was 
 exceedingly rough, secondly, the company had chosen to 
 put on one of their oldest and smallest boats, and thirdly 
 because from sheer laziness they did not put the luggage 
 into the hold at starting. After half an hour's kicking 
 about it got loose, a heavy sea having struck the vessel, 
 and we had to heave to en pleine mer to put it down. Of 
 course it all got wet, and it's a mercy it was not washed 
 into the sea. I remained on my back in the cabin, and 
 slept a good deal, but had the passage lasted fifteen 
 minutes more I should have been ill like most of the 
 others. We left Calais at 2 a.m. an hour late, and at 4.15 
 came to a sudden stop. The engine was too weak, and 
 the driver too cowardly to face the snow, for as a train 
 passed us ])resently going down, there was evidently no 
 reason for his stopping when he did. It was blowing a 
 hurricane; the gusts shook the carriage, and the snow 
 penetrated through the chinks and crannies, and lay in 
 heaps in the corners. No one came to tell us where we 
 were, or offer any consolation. When day broke we woke 
 up, five of us, two Frenchmen and three English, and 
 conversed wearily till eight, when Papa's curiosity induced 
 him to leave the carriage and seek the guard's van. I 
 could hardly stand for the wind, nor see for more than a 
 yard for the mist of snow. Two engines had been sent 
 up from Etaples, but they could not move us, and the
 
 134 y* ^^^ ^^^ T^rime 
 
 men said we might be there for any length of time. This 
 was pleasant. At about 10.30 a peasant brought us 
 some milk and bread, and sugar (blessed man). At 12 
 the storm cleared a bit, and we found that there was a 
 big drift ahead of us, filling all the shallow cutting in 
 which we were. A few peasants were working away at 
 our end, and we could see more at the opposite end 
 doing the same. But alas ! the snow and wind began 
 again in a few minutes, and they had to stop work. At 
 last at 2 P.M. the weather really cleared up, and we could 
 see a villao;e at no orreat distance. Thither we determined 
 to repair, especially as the Conducteur declared that we 
 should probably not be able to move till noon to-day. So 
 we set off across the snow, and found a decent Public 
 where Madame made us excellent soup with bread in it. 
 We were told that the cure would take us in, so we set 
 off for his house. On our way we met his servant, coming 
 to bid us welcome. We found the cure a delightful 
 fellow, with a fine frank countenance and evidently a 
 strong taste for hospitality, for he was laying the cloth 
 and setting the table with his own hands, and dispensing 
 wine to his guests who had already arrived. By 4 p.m. 
 the dinner was ready, when, just as we were going to sit 
 down, the officials of the post attached to the train came 
 up to say the line was clear and that go we must. It was 
 very provoking, but we thought we ought to go, so after 
 a glass or two of excellent champagne, and a mouthful of 
 bread, off we set. We found that a detachment of soldiers 
 had been sent off from Abbeville and had done much 
 already towards clearing the line, and that a big engine 
 was expected every moment to complete the work. It was 
 a grand sight to see the great machine, covered with iron 
 plates, come tearing through the drifts, and pile them up 
 on each side. Then a fire was liorhted under our wretched 
 engine, to thaw it, and being made fast to the other, we 
 started at last, at 5.15. We reached Amiens, going slowly, 
 at 8.45, where we got an excellent dinner, and then started 
 for Paris at 9. '30. The company thought proper to attach 
 second and third class carriages to our train, so that we 
 stopped frequently, and finally reached Paris at 3 a.m. I am 
 rather tired, but have not caught cold, strange to relate." 
 
 J. always felt certain that he missed a very succulent repast
 
 Le Tuy 135 
 
 on this occasion, and used to tell the story of, I believe, this 
 same cure, who elicited from his housekeeper in Confession 
 that she had stolen a partridge for her own consumption out 
 of his larder. "Comment Pas tu done mange, ma fille?" he 
 demanded. " Je Tai mange froid, mon pere." "" Si encore tu 
 en avait fait un salmi ! " 
 
 In the spring of 1882 J. made an excursion into the centre 
 of France, Clermont Ferrand, the Puj-de-D6me, Mont Dore, 
 Le Puy, etc. I have only room to quote one letter to his 
 wife, describing the last-named place : — 
 
 Hotel de L'Europe, Le Puy, Thursday. 
 
 "... This is the most wonderful place I have ever seen 
 in all my travels. Imagine a wide amphitheatre of hills, 
 covered with verdure, then in the middle a huge rock, 
 some 600 feet higli,^ crowned by a colossal statue of the 
 Virgin, and on a sort of step half-way up, the Cathedral, 
 below which are the houses and steep streets of the old 
 town. At a lesser distance from this rock there is a 
 second, not so high, but far steeper, up which you climb 
 by stairs. On the top is a Church dedicated to St. 
 Michael. The modern town is in the plain below. The 
 Cathedral is very fine, a Romanesque choir and transepts, 
 with a nave which has twice been added to. You go up 
 to the west door by a flight of steps, which conducted to 
 the oldest facade, and when they wanted to lengthen it 
 they had to increase the space available by throwing 
 arches over these steps, so that you now walk up under 
 lofty arcades, and finally land in the Church at a little 
 east of the middle of the Nave. The style is very curious. 
 The squares into which the nave is divided are each 
 covered by a dome, like St. Mark's, all of stone; and 
 outside a vei'y pretty eff'ect of colour is produced by 
 alternating the grey lava with white stone." 
 
 The terrible tragedy of Frank Balfour's death in the Alps, 
 towards the end of July 1882, overwhelmed J., as indeed it 
 overwhelmed all Balfour's friends. During the thirty years 
 
 1 My recollection is that J. here rather oversteps the reality and that 
 his description is a little too highly coloured.
 
 136 y. in his Trime 
 
 wliich have since elapsed Cambridge has lost many men of 
 the highest distinction, but never, in my experience, has the 
 University shown evidence of suffering from so irretrievable, 
 so crushing a blow. It was not only that Balfour was leading 
 the world in his special subject, nor was it alone his intellectual 
 gifts which attracted around him the best men of his day, but it 
 was the fact that he had in the highest degree that indefinable 
 (juality, charm. He won all our hearts, and his kindness and 
 thought for others was ceaseless. I have heard that he 
 had given up deer-stalking, his favourite sport, and taken to 
 Alpine climbing, because he had a feeling that it was hardly 
 right to kill deer just for the sake of sport. It is characteristic 
 of him that a few days before the accident he had sent a 
 cheque for £\50 to one of his brothers, "to be given to the 
 guide's family in case of an accident, which, however, is 
 extremely improbable.*" Mrs. J. was away from home, and 
 J. wrote the sad news to her as follows : — 
 
 1 ScROOPE Terrace, Cambridge, 
 28/-d July 1882. 
 
 "7 P.M. — All other matters have been put completely 
 out of my mind by a terrible piece of news which has just 
 reached us. Frank Balfour has been taken away from us 
 by an accident of some sort — unexplained — in the Alps, 
 )iear Courmayeur. This is all that can be extracted from 
 a telegram which was sent to the Master this after- 
 noon. I was crossing the court at 6.30 when I met 
 Watts, the head man in the College office, who told me 
 of it. . . . 
 
 " 1 can't realise that Frank is gone in the least. I 
 suppose it will come upon me more acutely to-morrow."" 
 
 There are many other letters from and to J. during these 
 sad days, but they are too sacred to quote. J.'s sympathy 
 especially went out to Michael Foster, who had done so much 
 to help Balfour in every way, and whose favourite pupil Balfour 
 was, and again to Adam Sedgwick, Balfour's Demonstrator, 
 who for many months was absolutely crushed by the blow.
 
 Fra?ik T^alfour 137 
 
 " I feel I must see all I can of Adam, and try and keep him 
 from moping," J. writes in a letter to his wife. 
 
 In the autumn there was a large and influential meeting 
 in the Lecture Room of Zoology and Comparative Anatomy 
 to discuss a memorial to Balfour. The University was well 
 represented. Professor Henry Smith came from Oxford, 
 Professor Huxley and Professor Ray Lankester from London, 
 and Professor Williamson from Manchester. Many eloquent 
 speeches were made, and these were afterwards got together 
 by J. in a pamphlet. I quote a few lines of Professor 
 Humphry's speech : — 
 
 " One could scarcely yet realise that he who had shown so 
 great love for the large subjects of his own work and so great 
 ability in solving its difficulties ; he who might be called the 
 teacher of Europe in his own particular subject ; . . . should 
 have passed away before attaining anything like maturity ; 
 that he who had shown his attachment to this University, 
 and had clung to it in spite of the alluring attractions of 
 Edinburgh and Oxford, clung to it by virtue of his attach- 
 ment to the place, to his friends, and, above all, to the man 
 who had brought him forward, who had encouraged him in 
 every effort — he meant to Dr. Michael Foster; — that he had 
 been swept away from them by the treacherous precipices of 
 an Alpine gorge. Again he would say, one could scarcely 
 realise it. But alas! so it was, and, so far as he could judge, 
 Cambridge had had, in his time, no greater loss, though its 
 losses had been great and heavy. Whewell, Sedgwick, Hens- 
 low, Maxwell and many others had passed away, but he be- 
 lieved that never had there been in his time, or perhaps at any 
 preceding time, such a loss to Cambridge as that of Balfour." 
 
 It was agreed to found a fund to commemorate the name 
 of Balfour, and Mr. Alfred Newton, Professor of Zoology and 
 Comparative Anatomy, moved this resolution : — 
 
 " That the proceeds of the Fund be applied : (1) to establish 
 a Studentship, the holder of which shall devote himself 
 to original research in Biology, especially Animal
 
 138 y» 171 his T^riine 
 
 Morphology ; (2) to further, by occasional grants of 
 money, original research in the same subject." 
 
 J. was, as usual, appointed treasurer, and told the meeting 
 that he would inaugurate his office by stating that the family 
 of the late Professor Balfour had expressed their intention of 
 giving H^SOOO to the memorial, to which sum Dr. Michael 
 Foster proposed to add X-'IOOO, which Professor Balfour had 
 bequeathed to him for any scientific purpose to which he 
 might think proper to apply it. There was, therefore, .f 4000 
 in hand to start with. 
 
 In the October Term of 1882 the first Greek Play, the A^ax 
 (the genesis of which Mr. Cust has described elsewhere), was 
 performed, and J. served on the Committee as Secretary and 
 Treasurer. Not only did he hold these offices until his death, 
 but he was also the Stage Manager of five plays, i.e. Kumenides^ 
 1885; (Edlpus Tyrannus, 1887; /on, 1889; Wasps, 1897; 
 and Agamemnon, 1900. Even this does not exhaust the list 
 of J.'s activities in respect of Greek Plays. In the earlier 
 productions not only were the dresses made and fitted on in 
 J.'s house, but the tickets were balloted for there. On 
 17th November 1885, Mrs. J. records, '■'• Eumenides ballot for 
 tickets went on from 11.30 a.m. to 11.30 p.m.," and when the 
 performances began she notes that on the first three days they 
 asked 19 people to luncheon, 21 to dinner, and 30 to supper. 
 On the last two days of the performances she seems to have 
 stopped trying to count the number of their guests ! 
 
 This year Mrs. Clark, senior, and J. presented Trinity 
 College with a bust of Professor Clark, and gave a replica of it 
 to the Museum of Zoology. The following year J, began to 
 write a series of sketches of Cambridge men for the Church 
 Qua7ierli/ Review. They ultimately included Bishop Thirlwall, 
 Dr. Whewell, E. H. Palmer the Orientalist, and Lord Houghton; 
 these with others were republished in 1900 under the title of 
 Old Friends at Cambridge ami Elsewhere. jMost were vivid 
 sketches drawn from life, and were illustrated from J.'s
 
 fAntiquariaiJ Interests 139 
 
 almost inexhaustible fund of knowledge of the inner life of the 
 University. He was also responsible for the Catalogue of the 
 very interesting exhibitions of University and College portraits 
 held in the Fitzwilliam Museum in the May terms of 1884 and 
 1885. J. had in 1883 been invited to serve on the council of 
 the Oxford Historical Society, and gratefully accepted the invita- 
 tion. The same year he became President of the Cambridge 
 Antiquarian Society and was re-elected in 1884. During his 
 tenure of office the University provided " a place in which we 
 can hold our meetings," and the Society made over, under 
 certain conditions, its collections and its library to the Univer- 
 sity. As J. most truly said when laying down the offiqe in 
 1885, "In securing Baron Anatole von Hiigel as Cui'ator, we 
 have obtained the services of a gentleman in whom knowledge 
 and enthusiasm are happily blended." He also referred to the 
 wonderful casts of sculptured stone-work from Central America 
 which Mr. Maudslay was giving the University, and to the 
 collections of Sir Arthur Gordon.^ It was only in 1912 that 
 by the indefatigable efforts of Baron von Hiigel these collections 
 were at length adequately housed. J.'s retiring address was 
 on Libraries. 
 
 In January 1888 he was admitted to the Fellowship of the 
 Society of Antiquaries, a distinction he really valued. 
 
 In 1887 Mr. Coutts Trotter, Vice-Master of Trinity, 
 died. He had for years been a great power in the University, 
 and had taken an active share with J. and many others in 
 developing the Science School. At the time of his death he 
 was President of the Cambridge Philosophical Society, and J. 
 was chosen to succeed him. During his term of office J. read 
 a paper on the skeleton of the Rhytina, Steller''s sea-cow from 
 Bering Island, now an extinct genus of the rare order Sirenia, 
 which he had recently acquired for the Museum of Zoology. 
 In his valedictory address when retiring from office in 1890 
 J. gave a detailed and exhaustive history of the Society, and 
 from this I have drawn in the last two chapters of this book. 
 ^ Later tlie first Lord Staumore.
 
 14.0 y, 171 his Tri 
 
 rime 
 
 On 2nd March 1883, Mrs. J. records in her diary : " House 
 upside down, preparing for the first dinner given by J. to 
 the ' Family.' " This is a select and very ancient dining club 
 which in those days still drank to the "King over the water," 
 i.e. the finger-bowls. J., when I became a member of the 
 club, acted as Secretary and most carefully preserved the 
 menus and the names of those dining. 
 
 The summer of 1884 was very hot, and the heat markedly 
 affected the health of J.'s mother ; and it was soon definitely 
 settled that he and his family should move into Scroope 
 House to look after her. The following entry occurs in Mrs. 
 J.'s diary on 4th March 1885: "Slept for the first time at 
 Scroope House." Mrs. Clark, senior, was growing old and was, 
 I believe, glad to hand over the management of her household, 
 always to her a matter of some difficulty, into younger hands. 
 It was about this time that I used to go from time to time to 
 Scroope House to play backgammon with her, and although I 
 doubt if she ever quite clearly understood who I was, she was 
 uncommonly quick with the dice and held firmly to " the rigour 
 of the game." J. was then, as ever, an enthusiastic gardener, 
 and most days in the week he managed to put in an hour or 
 two after lunch in the beautiful garden lying between Scroope 
 House and Coe Fen. He was successful with most plants 
 because he understood and humoured them, but in particular 
 he was successful with roses. It was one of his pleasures to 
 send baskets of roses to his less happily situated friends in 
 College. Not only could J. grow flowers, but when they were 
 grown he could arrange them, and the floral display at Scroope 
 House, and even the decorations of the dining table, were 
 always arranged by him. As we have seen in the opening 
 chapter, his mother was also a notable gardener, and in the 
 matter of prizes at the local horticultural shows was unusually 
 successful. To the end she took a keen interest in flowers, but 
 by 1887 she was rapidly failing, and she died on the 8th 
 November in that year. 
 
 For the past eleven years J. had been working at the
 
 The Architectural History 141 
 
 Architectural History of the University of Cambridge, which 
 had already occupied his uncle's leisure for the last twenty- 
 one years of his life. I cannot now do better than quote some 
 sentences from the Preface, dated 21st April 1886, in which 
 J. described the genesis of the book : — 
 
 " The work . . . originated in a lecture ' On the Col- 
 legiate and other Buildings in Cambridge,'' delivered by 
 Professor Willis in the Senate House, on Wednesday, July 
 5, 1854, on the occasion of the visit of the Archaeological 
 Institute of Great Britain and Ireland to Cambridge. 
 
 " AVhen I first examined the manuscript," J. continues, "it 
 appeared to be much more nearly finished than it ultimately 
 proved to be ; and I thought that my task would be limited 
 to the verification of references, and the selection of sub- 
 jects for illustration. I soon found, however, that I had 
 fallen into a ffrievous error. At no college was the work 
 quite finished ; if the history of the buildings was com- 
 plete, that of the site would be unfinished, or vice versa. 
 At King's College, for instance, the history of the chapel 
 had hardly been begun, though that of the site had been 
 carefully investigated; at St. John's College the entire 
 history was unfinished, which was the more to be re- 
 gretted, as it was known that Professor Willis had care- 
 fully watched the destruction of the old chapel in 1869, 
 and had made notes upon it ; while even at Trinity 
 College, though the history of the site, and of King's 
 Hall, had been written out at length, that of the build- 
 ings was by no means complete. . . . Under these cir- 
 cumstances I came to the conclusion that in order to 
 produce the work in a way which should be worthy alike 
 of the author and of the University, it would be necessary 
 to go back to the point from which he had himself started 
 and investigate the whole subject afresh. . . . The neces- 
 sity for this comprehensive and thorough research will, it 
 is hoped, give a satisfactory explanation of the length of 
 time, just eleven years, which has passed away since I 
 began my work. I have read, and made extracts from, 
 the entire series of bursars' account-books for every college 
 in the University, besides studying the documents relating 
 to the history of the sites, the Order-books, and all other 
 sources of information to which I could obtain access, both
 
 1^2 y^ in his T^ri^ne 
 
 at Cambridge and elsewhere. A similar labour has been 
 required for the University buildings. These records, 
 especially those of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, 
 as for instance the accounts of King's Hall, and those of 
 the Proctors of the University, are exceedingly difficult 
 to read, and require a good deal of preliminary study 
 before anv extracts of value can be made from them. 
 Severe as this labour has been, I cannot regret it ; for 
 these volumes supply a detailed record of the life of our 
 ancestors, from which, as will be seen in the separate 
 essays, a complete picture of their manners and customs 
 at different periods can be derived. . . . 
 
 " In all my additions — and it will be seen that they 
 extend to nearlv two-thirds of the whole work in its 
 present form — I have strictly confined myself within the 
 limits which the author had traced for his own guidance ; 
 remembering at the same time that he proposed to write 
 not merely ' the architectural ** history, but ' the archi- 
 tectural and social ' history ; by which epithets I under- 
 stand that the modifications introduced into coUeiriate 
 structures by the changing habits of those who use them 
 are always to be borne in mind and noticed." 
 
 The great work, and it is a very great work, was published 
 in 1886. It is dedicated " To the memory of Henry Bradshaw^," 
 " the dear friend to whom I am under deeper obligation than 
 I can put into words." It is J.'s chief monument. Parts of 
 the following letter refer to the M.O. To make other parts 
 clear, it should be mentioned that J. tried each year to have 
 a day on the " sacred river," and that both his boys were now 
 at Aysgarth, a preparatory school. Edward had been there 
 for a year, but Willy went to school for the first time in 
 September, and Mrs. J. accompanied them to settle him in : — 
 
 ScROOPE House, 
 
 1%th August 1885. 
 
 " What weather ! The thermometer is down to 60° in 
 my study ! and there is a bitter gale from the NE. which 
 blows through everything, including my bones! It is 
 perhaps as well I am not at Laleham to-day. The Sacred 
 Iliver in an east wind would be too discrustine:.
 
 y, and his Children 143 
 
 " My position about Aysgarth is just this. I should 
 like to go, but at the same time I don't quite see how to 
 spare the time; and I feel sure that if I do stick to work 
 this next month I shall get the wretched thing (it has got 
 to that now) finished. I am struggling with the ' Changes 
 in Style,' which is a bore ; and after that the only really 
 important piece of work is the Introduction." 
 
 ScRooPE House, 
 
 Vith September 1885. 
 
 " I never knew how fond I was of my children till I lose 
 them. The day has been a sad blank to me, the house so 
 silent and the consciousness that one will have to wait 
 three months before one hears their merry voices again. 
 It has made me feel, too, that one has closed a chapter in 
 one's life, and that the babyhood of one's chicks is over, 
 and that now one must bear to be separated from them 
 for the greater part of their future life. It has all burst 
 upon me of a sudden, being that I am prone to absorption 
 in the Immortal Pub., and only descend to matters of 
 real life at intervals. ... I mean to work at nothing 
 else but the Pub. for the next three or four days, in order 
 to see what I can do towards breaking its back.'" 
 
 I would like here to say a word about J.'s affection for his 
 family. He was, as all who knew him, devotedly attached 
 to his friends, and showed his affection in a thousand ways, 
 each of which cost him some effort, some trouble. He was 
 also, in spite of a whimsical cynicism, intensely affectionate to 
 his wife and children. He almost kept his boys at home when 
 they should have been at school, and he was in later days 
 never so happy as when in company with his grand-children — 
 indeed grand parents should have grand-children ! 
 
 The first paragraph of the following letter refers to the 
 Architectural History, the second to the projected Life of 
 Adam Sedgwick, Professor of Geology, 1818 to 1873 : — 
 
 ScRooPE House, 
 
 Zrd August 1886. 
 
 " Dear De. Jessopp, — I am glad to hear that you like 
 the outward appearance of my book. I wonder what your
 
 144- J?'* ^^^ ^^^ T^rime 
 
 real judornients will be when you have read it, for I am 
 afraid that your politeness may prevent you from pointing 
 out the numerous defects, not to speak of downright mis- 
 takes, which I am conscious of in it. I hope that when 
 you do find anything of either kind you will not 
 hesitate to point it out to me. I am in hopes of a 
 second edition being called for before I am too old to 
 undertake one. 
 
 " With regard to Sedgwick, I should be glad of any 
 stories you may be able to remember and kind enough to 
 send me. The one you send now shall certainly be intro- 
 duced into the life somewhere. It will not be difficult to give 
 the dry chronology of his life and a more or less lucid account 
 of its principal events ; but I despair of being able to set 
 forth the man as he was, with all his vigour of talk and 
 action ; his fun and his seriousness so strangely blended ; 
 his strong affections and his equally strong dislikes ; and 
 lastly, but by no means least, so much of his language will 
 offend most sorely the ears of the present generation, 
 . Ever yours sincerely, J. W. Clark," 
 
 The Architectural History was hardly published before J, was 
 asked to collaborate with Professor Hughes in the Life of Adam 
 Sedgwick. He threw himself into this task with characteristic 
 vigour, visiting Sedbergh in September 1887 and again in 
 August 1888, where he " wrote and worked with Miss Sedgwick," 
 He also visited Dent and later Norwich, where Sedgwick had 
 held a canonry. " Read Sedgwick's letters " ; " Adam Sedgwick 
 to dine; discussed MS. of Sedgwick's Life," were entries which 
 now occur at intervals in his diary. On the 27th August 1888 : 
 "Took first four chapters of my Life of Sedgwick, to be made 
 up into pages"; two days later: "Reached Cromer at 12.39. 
 Lunched with the Bishop of Norwich. He told me several 
 stories about Sedgwick." The following day he "called on 
 Archdeacon Neville, who lives in Sedgwick's house." Evidently 
 the book was not to suffer for lack of local colour. However, 
 its preparation had a long set-back, partly due to Mrs. J.'s 
 illness. She was very unwell in the summer of 1888, and, 
 though J. took her to Yorkshire for change of air, she was no
 
 The Librarians hip 145 
 
 better in the autumn, and had to lead quite an invalid life for 
 a time. In June 1889 we read : " Resumed work on Sedgwick, 
 much interrupted of late by preparation for the Antiquarian 
 Society." Eventually the book appeared in 1890, and was well 
 received. No sooner had J. finished the Life and Letters of Adam 
 Sedgwick than he began another book. During a summer 
 holiday with his family in Brittany he records that, on 18th 
 August 1890, " I began to translate the ' Augustinian Observ- 
 ances.' " These he finished on the 30th of the following month 
 at Cannes, where he and his wife had gone to visit Dr. Henry 
 Jackson and Mrs. Jackson. The translation, under the title of 
 Observances in Use at the Augustinian Priory . . . at Barnwell^ 
 did not appear until 1897 owing to J.'s ill-health. 
 
 In the spring of 1889 Willy won an Open Scholarship at 
 Eton. The news had been first and unofficially conveyed to 
 the family by the Matron in College writing for his height that 
 she might order his surplice. Edward was now at Harrow, 
 where he entered in 1888. 
 
 In 1887 J. had been a candidate for the Disney Professor- 
 ship of Archaeology but was not elected, and at the time felt 
 his lack of success very keenly. Two years later he stood for 
 the post of University Librarian and received a great deal of 
 support, but in the end he retired from the contest. A former 
 Librarian, the late Professor Mayor, wrote him the following 
 letter — the last sentence shows that the Professor had a keen 
 eye for character : — , 
 
 St. John's, l^th July 1889. 
 
 " My dear Clakk, — I do not care to serve on a com- 
 mittee, but I have no hesitation in promising you my vote 
 if you are nominated by the Council. 
 
 " There are few indeed who have rendered such ungrudg- 
 ing service of such high order, to the University, as you 
 have done for many years. The chief work of a librarian 
 I take to be to make his staff' work, and I am confident 
 that you will hold the reins with a firmer hand than they 
 have been held with during my memory. — Very truly yours, 
 
 " John E. B. Mayor." 
 K
 
 1^6 J* in his Trime 
 
 The following letter addressed to Sir Harry Wilson belongs 
 to this period : — 
 
 United University Club, Pall Mall East, S.W., 
 bth July 1889. 
 
 " Dearest Hal, — It was very nice of you to write me 
 such an affectionate letter. It gave me very great pleasure 
 to receive it. I so often feel that my life has been a 
 foilure — that I have been weak when I ought to have been 
 strong — that it is a comfort to me to be assured by anybody 
 that I have been of use to them. Frank Balfour was the 
 dearest friend I ever had or ever shall have, and since I 
 lost him, you and J. J. L. have filled a blank space in 
 mv heart. I often wonder whether, if I had had brothers, 
 I should have cared for them as I care for you two. I wish 
 I could be of more use to young fellows at Cambridge. I 
 have kept many straight, that I know by their own 
 admissions, but I often reproach myself that I have not 
 done more in that way. My natural shyness, which people 
 won't believe in, has been the principal cause in many 
 cases of my non-interference. 
 
 " If Frank had lived he would have stimulated me into 
 scientific research ; now that he has gone my only chance 
 of handing my name down to a second generation of Uni- 
 versity men is to return to my first love — literature and 
 library work — and that is the real reason why I am so 
 anxious to obtain this post at the Library. 
 
 " We went to Eton to-day, and there found, to our 
 great joy, that Willy had got the Junior Tomline mathe- 
 matical prize, bracketed with another boy. Still his 
 name stands first. That any son of mine should be dis- 
 tinguished in mathematics ! — Ever yr. afl'ectionate 
 
 " J. W. C." 
 
 It was perhaps fortunate that J. did not succeed in winning 
 the Librarianship, for two years later another post, that of 
 Ilegistrary, became vacant. It was a post peculiarly suited to 
 J.'s genius, and one in which he had already acted for four 
 years as Deputy, and he was duly elected on 12th May 1891. 
 He held the post until a few days before his death.
 
 Elected T{egistrary 147 
 
 The new appointment necessitated his resigning his two posts 
 at the Museum, and this he did at the end of the year. I have 
 dealt fully with these resignations in the two Appendices, and 
 here I will content myself with quoting the letter written to 
 him by Dr. Peile, the then Vice-Chancellor — Dr. Peile never 
 flattered : — 
 
 Christ's College Lodge, Cambridge, 
 <oth November 1891. 
 
 " My dear Registkary, — I have received to-day notice 
 of your intention to resign on 31st December 1891 the 
 combined offices of the Superintendent of the Museums of 
 Zoology and Comparative Anatomy, and of Secretary to the 
 Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate — offices which you 
 have held so long and with so much benefit to the Univer- 
 sity. I am writing no mere words of compliment when I 
 say that we can never expect to obtain more zealous or 
 more efficient service in either department. — Believe me to 
 be. Very sincerely yours, John Peile, V.C."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 J. AS REGISTRARY 
 
 The year 1892 opened sadly for J. and his wife. Edward, 
 their elder son, was very ill with pneumonia and pleurisy, and 
 for weeks they were in a state of great anxiety, but his con- 
 stitution was sound and he pulled through, and by the middle 
 of March he was able to start with his parents for Madeira. 
 On the 1st January I had succeeded J. in the post of Secretary 
 to the Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate, and in spite of 
 his anxiety about Edward, J. came almost daily to the Museums 
 to instruct me in the accounts and to help in preparing for the 
 annual audit. 
 
 The visit to Madeira was a great success ; and Edward, at 
 first carried about in the convenient hammocks of the island, 
 was soon beginning to walk. For the time J.'s old interest in 
 natural history returned, and he visited the fish-market before 
 breakfast on most mornings, and in time got together quite a 
 large number of species for the Museum ; in fact before he left 
 the island he had spent 21,585 reis on his collection of fishes. 
 In the afternoons he often collected beetles, spiders, and 
 other land forms ; he also searched the rock-pools for littoral 
 animals. 
 
 They had been met by Mr. Guillemard ^ on their arrival 
 in Funchal, and after a stay of a fortnight they were joined 
 by Mrs. Wynne and her daughter (now Lady Lawrence, 
 wife of Sir A. W. Lawrence, Bart.), two of their oldest and 
 closest friends. Their names occur again and again in J.^s 
 diary, and one remembers them as the most welcome of quests 
 time after time at Scroope House. A little later Willy joined 
 
 1 Brother of J.'s friend, Dr. F. II. H. (iuillemard of Trumpine-ton. 
 
 14S
 
 Madeira 149 
 
 the party, and he and J. made an excursion of three days to 
 the northern side of the island. The insatiable activities of 
 J.'s mind would not be satisfied by collecting specimens, and 
 writing a very full diary and innumerable letters ; he must learn 
 Portuguese, and with this object in view took daily lessons. 
 How far he o-ot I don't know. He was all his life in the habit 
 of bursting into French, but I have never known him burst 
 into Portuguese. J., whose duties as Registrary had been 
 carried on dm'ing his absence by Mr. C. E. Grant of King's 
 College, left his family behind him and started for home on 
 3rd May. He reached Cambridge on 7th May, and immedi- 
 ately plunged into the preparations for the Installation of 
 Spencer Compton, eighth Duke of Devonshire, as Chancellor, 
 which duly took place on 11th June. 
 
 The office of Registrary was very congenial to J. It 
 brought him into contact with a great number of people 
 both old and young, and it permitted him to have a large 
 share in the ordering of all ceremonies — "stage-managing" 
 them, he called it, and the mere expression was to his mind 
 fascinating. On these occasions he always made himself 
 smart, wore a rose in his button-hole, and what he called his 
 "jubilee " tie (for he had purchased it on the occasion of 
 Queen Victoria's first Jubilee in 1887), and with his white hair 
 and beard, walking half a step behind the Chancellor or the 
 Vice-Chancellor, he was always a noticeable and picturesque 
 feature in the procession. 
 
 The last half of this year J. was very unwell, suffering 
 almost continuously from mysterious pains in the head, giddi- 
 ness, and dizziness. He undoubtedly overdid himself physically 
 in Madeira. He would take long walks, a rash thing to do 
 in that relaxing climate. At times he was quite unable to 
 work, a most unusual thing for him, and it was about this 
 time that he handed over the editing of The Cambridge 
 Natural History, which he had undertaken to bring out for 
 Messrs. Macmillan, to Dr. Harmer and myself. He however 
 never lost interest in the work, and was most kind in
 
 150 y- ^^ T{egistrary 
 
 helping us in many ways. About Christmas time, 1892, Mr. 
 Stanley Leathes of Trinity, now First Civil Service Commis- 
 sioner, succeeded Mr. C. E. Grant as Assistant-Registrary. 
 This Christmas too Charles Newton began the portrait which 
 hangs in the A.D.C. Theatre. Early next year he was busy 
 arranging for the memorial to his predecessor Dr. Luard, and 
 drawing up the circular appealing for pecuniary help. The 
 memorial took the form of printing certain of the University 
 Grace-books. 
 
 By the spring of 1893 J. had not been away from Cam- 
 bridge except for an odd day or two for ten months, and 
 now he thought his beloved Paris might do him good, so 
 he and I started off for France on 14th March. 
 
 We saw a good deal of J.'s old Parisian friends Mr J. 
 Reubell and his sister Miss Reubell ; they were as always most 
 hospitable, the former asking us to dine to meet the Whistlers. 
 Another night we dined with Peter Studd and met Charles 
 Rothenstein. 
 
 I have only one fragment of a letter from this time ad- 
 dressed to Mrs. J., but it shows that J.'s hand had not lost its 
 
 cunning : — 
 
 Hotel St. Romain, 
 27M March 1893. 
 
 "... We called on M. Charles Yriarte, whose acquaint- 
 ance Shipley had made at Cambridge. He's the man who 
 writes the books on Venice, and Cesar Borgia, and 
 Lucrece. He was perfectly charming. I don't know 
 when I have passed so delightful an hour. He seems to 
 have known all those naughty people, to have lived in 
 their company, and only left them yesterday to return 
 to-morrow. At present he is working at Isabella d'Este 
 (of whom I have never heard)— she was sister-in-law to 
 Lucrece Borgia, and a great patroness of the arts. There 
 are 500 letters of hers at Mantua, which this indomitable 
 researcher has been copying. I could not talk to him about 
 Lucrece, for I could not for the life of me remember 
 whether he had proved her guilty or innocent. I must 
 find out before I see him again."
 
 Fire at the Registry 151 
 
 Unfortunately I had to leave in about a week, but my 
 place was taken by Stanley Leathes, and J. stayed on 
 another few days and visited innumerable theatres. On his 
 return the entries in his diary about his ill-health almost 
 cease for several weeks. In July he took a " cure " at Harro- 
 gate, but in spite of everything the pains in the head re- 
 turned, and at times he was quite prostrate ; it is painful 
 to read on nine successive days of the diary the single word 
 " headache."" 
 
 On 8th of November the chimney of the Registry was 
 found to be on fire, and this soon spread and the roof was 
 burnt ; the contents of the Registry were quickly moved to some 
 rooms belonging to the Syndics of the Press. Three days later 
 they were transferred to the old Library at Pembroke, and here 
 for many months, by the kind hospitality of the College, J. 
 carried on his business, until, under the advice of Professor 
 (now Sir Alfred) Ewing and Mr. W. N. Shaw, the Registry 
 was rebuilt and rendered fireproof. 
 
 Early in 1894 the sale of a portion of the allotments lying 
 to the east of the present Botanic Garden, to the County 
 authorities for the purpose of building a County School, was 
 before the Senate. J. advocated the sale in a cogent fly-sheet, 
 but the proposal, supported though it was by the Financial 
 Board, was thrown out. 
 
 In the spring of this year J. varied his annual visit to 
 Paris by returning through Holland, an unknown country to 
 him. The following two letters to Mrs. J. date from this time. 
 He was now resuming his researches into libraries, which lasted 
 till his death. 
 
 Hotel St. Romain, 
 ^th April 1894. 
 
 " I am starting to-raorrow at 8.20, and hope to reach 
 the Hague at 5.54, and to meet Lionel ^ at the station. 
 I feel very shy and strange at trusting myself in a new 
 country where I cannot speak a word of the language, 
 
 ^ Mr. Lionel Cust.
 
 1^2 y. as ^R^gistrary 
 
 and where I don''t know a soul. Still I feel I must go, 
 and that it is wiser to go now than to wait till Whitsun- 
 tide, when very probably I should be unable to go. I 
 cannot tell what may turn up in the May Term. 
 
 " I have always liked the French, but never, never did 
 I suppose it possible that so many persons, all strangers 
 to ine, would take so much interest in my pursuits, and 
 give themselves so much trouble to serve me. ... I have 
 made two finds at the Bibliotheque Nationale ; two at the 
 Sorbonne ; and one at the Arsenal. This last is the best 
 of the lot, and I look forward to finding much that no 
 one has yet seen in the illustrations to the MSS. in that 
 library. They have a glorious collection — far finer than 
 in the Bibliotheque Nationale. I have discovered all about 
 the library of Citeaux, and the library of Clairvaux, and 
 the library of the Sorbonne — which I shall use for my 
 lecture : ^ and I hope to get such photographs of Zutphen 
 as will make good slides."'"' 
 
 DoELEN Hotel, A3isterdam, 
 Wth April 1894. 
 
 " I write a line to say that we have been to Zutphen 
 to-day, and seen the chained library to great advantage. 
 It is a most curious thing, to which no description that I 
 have heard or read does justice. The cases are very rude 
 and rough, and there is no beauty about it ; but it gives 
 one an excellent idea of what one of those old libraries 
 must have looked like when the chaining system was in 
 ftishion. . . . 
 
 " Having done all we could there, we came to this place. 
 I am delighted with all I have seen as yet, so wonderfully 
 picturesque and full of colour, and nothing dull and formal 
 about it. What surprises me so much in Holland is the 
 bustle and activity of the people. I had expected to see 
 Scotch formality and precision — I imagined the Dutch a 
 nation of British Dissenters : but I find instead, a merry, 
 pleasure-loving people, who look as if they had nothing to 
 do but to amuse themselves all day long."" 
 
 These letters show the great interest J. was then taking 
 1 The Uede LecturCj June 1894.
 
 Libraries 153 
 
 in the arrangement of libraries and the care of books. 
 Amongst many other papers of antiquarian interest written 
 about this time, are those " On Libraries at Cesena, Wells, 
 Guildford, and Clare College, Cambridge " ; on " The Guildford 
 Grammar School Library " ; " On Libraries at Christ Church, 
 Canterbury, Citeaux, Clairvaux, Zutphen, Enkhuizen " ; and 
 " On Libraries at Lincoln Cathedral, Westminster Abbey, St. 
 Paul's Cathedral, London." Some of this material was used 
 in his Rede Lecture,^ delivered in June of this year. This 
 lecture, together with the substance of a short series which J. 
 gave in 1900 as Sandars Reader in Bibliography, formed the 
 basis of his remarkably successful work. The Care of Books. 
 This was published in 1901 ; a second edition appeared the 
 following year, and a third and cheaper re-issue in 1909. 
 
 To return to 1894, in August of that year J. and I made 
 a most enjoyable tour in Eastern France. A French friend of 
 his, a M. Cuinet, came with us, and added to our enjoyment. 
 We stopped at Dijon and Besan^'on, and finally reached Jougue 
 in the Juras, where we spent a week. We then went to have 
 a view of the Lake of Geneva, with its background of Alps 
 from the Col de la Faucille. Although the weather was 
 atrocious, it was pleasing to see — when we could see — how the 
 view was fully up to the standard of J.'s recollection of forty- 
 two years ago.^ We started back by way of St. Claude and 
 Bourg, and after visiting Brou, to see the Church, we came 
 back to Dijon to collect certain plans of Citeaux which were 
 being prepared there for J. Next we left for Semur and 
 Avallon, and thence drove to Vezelay, a very glorious building 
 on an unrivalled site. We returned by Auxerre, Sens, Troyes, 
 and so, as J. would say, " home,"" i.e. to Paris. I never enjoyed a 
 trip more — J., although far from well, was so intensely interested 
 and interesting. There was in every town some plan or some 
 library he wanted to see, and I soon found out that the P'rench 
 librarian and the French archivist are as interesting in the 
 
 ^ " Libraries iu the Mediseval and Renaissance Periods." 
 2 See pp. 77-78
 
 154 y ' ^^ 'Tiegistrary 
 
 flesh as they are in the pages of Anatole France. Here are 
 some letters on the tour written from J, to his wife : — 
 
 Hotel des Bains, Besan^on, 
 imh August 1894. 
 
 "... I have enjoyed being at Dijon very much, 
 though the town has not much of antique appearance 
 about it. Still it contains a good many interesting 
 things, not the least of which are the plans of Citeaux, 
 which I had the good fortune to discover in the Archives 
 de la Ville this morning. I went, as is my habit, to see 
 the librarian, to whom I gave my lecture, and he was 
 so charmed with me that he did everything he could to 
 promote my researches. Among other things, he referred 
 me to his confrere at the Archives. On Monday we made 
 an expedition to see the site of Citeaux. It" is always 
 interesting to see where a building, so famous as the 
 Abbey of Citeaux, once stood, but in this case there the 
 importance or value of the journey ends. 
 
 "On getting here we found the faithful Paul Cuinet 
 awaiting for us at the station. . . . His help has been 
 valuable so far, for he advised us to come to this hotel, a 
 delightfully fresh and clean house on the outskirts of the 
 town, with a garden, baths, electric light, and, in a word, 
 ' toutes les ressources de la civilisation moderne."' All 
 these things are very comfortable and nice no doubt, but 
 I can see that the old Provincial France is gone to join 
 the other pleasant things of the past. . . . Here, as with 
 us, the government is falling into the hands of our dead- 
 liest enemies, the small shopkeepers, with the results that 
 we are familar with." 
 
 Hotel Laferri^re, Jougue (Doubs), 
 ^\st August 1894. 
 
 " We got here last night after a twelve hours' journey 
 from BesauYon. It was very tiring, though exceedingly 
 beautiful, and I certainly felt that we were quite right to 
 have taken it instead of the shorter one by the railway. 
 We began by a short railway journey to a place called 
 Lot, whence we were bundled in a little voiture to Mou- 
 thier, a large village, where we waited three hours for the 
 diligence. . . . Cuinefs uncle is the parish priest there,
 
 Tour m France 155 
 
 and he took me to see him. Instead of the usual cure de 
 village, rather rougher and less cultivated than his parish- 
 ioners, I found a delightful old man, very well-informed 
 on all subjects, with views on the Irish question, etc. He 
 lived in a quiet little house opposite his church, with a 
 gay garden before his windows, and a collection of insects 
 caught in the neighbourhood." 
 
 JOUGUE, 
 
 2>rd September 1894. 
 
 "... This place needs the pen of a Sevigne — or some 
 one else w^ho had the art of spinning a letter out of 
 nothing. Our life is singularly monotonous. We get 
 up early — at least I do^ — and have my coffee. Then we 
 read or write a little till dejeuner at 12. In the afternoon 
 we take a drive; at 7 we dine; and we go to bed at 10, 
 or even earlier. . . . The country round is charming, 
 beautifully wooded, with wide tracts of pasture, and great 
 bluffs of limestone. Twice we have got up high enough 
 to see Switzerland. The view was not very clear, but 
 there it was, and yesterday we saw the Lake of Geneva 
 with Mt. Blanc beyond it. This was from the top of 
 the Mont d'Or, an eminence 1600 ft. above the village. 
 . . . Cumet took me the other day to call on the cure — 
 a delightful old thing. He might have sat for a portrait 
 of Friar Tuck, and talked of nothing but the price of 
 wine, and his own good fortune in securing a barrique of 
 a certain Saint Emilion at some fabulously low price." 
 
 Col de la Faucille, 
 Friday, 1th September 1894. 
 
 "This is at the very top of the Jura, and I am de- 
 lighted to find that the hotel is built within a few 
 yards of the spot where I saw the view 42 years ago, 
 which I have never forgotten, and which I still think 
 is one of the finest to be seen anywhere. To-day it is 
 all misty and hazy, but still there it is, with the wooded 
 slope of the Jura for a foreground, the Lake of Geneva 
 in the middle distance, and the Alps in the background. 
 I do hope it will be clearer to-morrow. It is as cold 
 as midwinter, which they say is a good sign." 
 
 ^ I did not.— A. E. S.
 
 156 y. as IR^gistrary 
 
 Hotel de la Cloche^ Dljon, 
 VMh September 1894. 
 
 " It is quite impossible to describe the Church of Brou. 
 I had no idea of what I was going to see, but I certainly 
 did not expect so large a church, or one so full of ex- 
 quisite work of every kind, in the best style of the early 
 Renaissance. ... In plan it is like a small cathedral, nave 
 and aisles, transept, choir with aisles, all in a late Gothic 
 (1502-15ti6). Eastward of the crossing is a richly carved 
 rood-screen, through which you enter the choir, fitted 
 with magnificent oak stalls, richly carved with saints and 
 eudilems. The apse has its original stained glass. In 
 the centre of the choir, in front of the altar, is the great 
 glory of the Church, the tomb of Philibert II. He lies at 
 full length, carved out of white Italian marble, surrounded 
 by weeping cherubs, on a slab of black marble, round 
 which are exquisite figures of Saints and Sibyls in niches. 
 Behind these, on another slab of black marble, is a second 
 figure of him, as he might have been when dead. The 
 face of the upper figure is turned towards the tomb of 
 his wife, which is on the left, under the arch leading 
 from the choir to the aisle." 
 
 AUXERRE, 
 
 15th September 1894. 
 
 " Un Friday we made our great excursion to V^ezelay. 
 It is quite up to its reputation, and is certainly one of the 
 most wonderful places to be seen in France. The little 
 town, together with the church and the ground where the 
 monastery once stood, occupv the summit of one of the 
 isolated hills so common in this part of France, so it can 
 be seen from a great distance. . . . You walk up the steep 
 street, and presently come out on the open space in front of 
 the church. It (the church) is of great extent — I suppose 
 about half the size of Ely, with a grand Romanesque nave, 
 and a later choir, ending in an apse. All the stained 
 glass is gone, and some years ago M. Viollet le Due was 
 let loose on the building, so most of it has been rebuilt, 
 and everything that could tell us about its history has 
 been carefully obliterated. In fact, it looks as new as it
 
 Tour in France 157 
 
 must have looked in St. Bernard's time. The monastic 
 buildings, which are said to have contained 800 monks, 
 were entirely swept away at the Revolution." 
 
 In the spring of the following year he was still hunting 
 libraries in France, this time with Edward, and as usual writes 
 almost daily to Mrs. J. : — 
 
 Hotel d'Albion, Rouen^ 
 hth April 1895. 
 
 "... We have taken a short preliminary walk about 
 Rouen, and looked into the Cathedral, where the word 
 BIBLIOTHECA on a door has greatly excited me. I 
 am to go to-morrow to learn more about it — for by an 
 absurd arrangement it seems to be shown only in the 
 month of May. Why May .^ . . . 
 
 " Qih April. — I have spent the day at the Bibliotheque 
 and elsewhere hunting after information. Everybody was 
 very civil to me: but I can't say that I have discovered 
 much that is new, except the existence of a large and 
 important Chapter Library, founded (like all the others) 
 in the middle of the fifteenth century. I did not get 
 behind the magic door, but I did get into the room 
 above it, now used as a library. It contains some curious 
 reliquaries and service books and other objects, but no 
 bookcases of any age." 
 
 Hotel St. Rojiain, Paris, 
 19;;^ April 1895. 
 
 "... The library of the College de Navarre has been 
 pulled down, but I was shown two photographs of it, of 
 which I hope to obtain copies. It must have been a most 
 curious building, and worthy of all care to preserve it. 
 Instead of this, they dragged it down for no other reason 
 than that it was ' vieux.' It had survived the Revo- 
 lution and the changes made in the building by 
 Napoleon I, only to be destroyed by his soi-discmt 
 nephew. From this sad spectacle we went to the Lycee 
 Henri Quatre, where Laurent was educated, and there, 
 quite unexpectedly, I made a most interesting discovery. 
 The buildings were originally those of the Couvent
 
 158 y. as %egistrary 
 
 St. Genevieve, and possessed a splendid library, built 
 gradually at the top of the other rooms, as was usual. 
 After the Revolution the books — or what remained of 
 them — were removed to a new building, where they still 
 are. But, now used as dormitories for the scholars of the 
 Lycee, the old Librai-y still exists, practically unaltered, 
 with a great deal of the old panelling and ceiling — the 
 dome with its decorations — and a Museum, quite un- 
 altered, with the old glazed cupboards, put up about 
 1675. Laurent, who had spent a year in the building, 
 had never seen this ! It is quite the most curious thing 
 I have yet come across, for, though comparatively modern 
 in construction, it is a most instructive example of the 
 way in which conventual libraries were arranged."''' 
 
 In the summer, J. lectured before the Archaeological 
 Institute at Scarborough about mediaeval libraries, upon which 
 he was becoming the expert. The following letter to Mrs, J. 
 is particularly interesting on account of what he says of himself 
 at the end of the final paragraph : — 
 
 Royal Hotel, Scarborough, 
 Saturday, 20th July 1895. 
 
 "... We had a most delightful excursion yesterday 
 to Beverley, which was entirely new to me. ... It is a 
 glorious building — I mean the Minster, with a grand 
 Early English choir and transepts, and a Decorated nave 
 ending in a Perpendicular west front. Inside there is the 
 wonderful Percy shrine, or rather tomb, probably the 
 finest piece of medifieval sculpture that has been spared 
 to us, . . . 
 
 " My lecture went off* very well last night. . . . The 
 long-suffering persons I talked to sat patiently from 8.45 
 to 10.30, and I think were really interested. 
 
 " I am glad to hear that my article on Owen ^ is really 
 out. I always feared that Kit - might get frightened and 
 leave it out alioijether. ... I have never done anv s:ood 
 in science since Frank Balfour died. If he had lived, I 
 
 ^ In the Church Quarterly Review. 
 
 ^ Christopher Knight ^Vatson, the Editor.
 
 His Political Views 159 
 
 should probably have been egged on by him to take up 
 some special line. I have now drifted, I hardly know 
 how, into this Archgeological track, and see my way to 
 producing a little something which may be interesting to 
 the world at large as well as to professed antiquaries." 
 
 J. was a Liberal in politics, but a tempered Liberal. I 
 imagine the term " Gladstonian " would most nearly define 
 him, though in some respects he was more Radical, I don't 
 think he thought out political questions as he thought out 
 subjects which commanded his interest. He was apt to vote 
 on the impulse of the moment. He was in all cases more 
 moved by men than measures. It is only fair, however, to 
 record that he was most anxious to vote Liberal in January 
 1910, and, when his doctor forbade him to go out of doors, 
 characteristically remarked, "Thafs what comes of having a 
 Tory for one's doctor." He held strong views on taxation, 
 and a new tax imposed by either party met with the most 
 vigorous condemnation expressed in the strongest language. 
 What he would have said had he lived until to-day, passes 
 imagination. He did not, however, take any very active 
 part in the political world. He had other things to attend 
 to — important things. In University politics he was a whole- 
 hearted reformer, and he took a leading share in many 
 of the changes which have modified the University since the 
 time of the last Commission. As we have seen in a letter 
 from Professor Newton, he was consistently in favour of the 
 abolition of the Heads of Houses,^ though I never could see 
 that the poor dears do much harm. He welcomed the 
 establishment of new Triposes and new avenues to Degrees. 
 He strongly approved the introduction of new subjects, 
 such as Engineering, Agriculture, the study of Heredity, 
 the Diplomas in Tropical Medicine and Forestry, and many 
 other innovations. 
 
 Without being very deeply interested in the question, he 
 was in favour of granting degrees to women. Early in 1896 
 he goes to a party " of the friends of the Woman Movement " 
 
 1 p. 120.
 
 i6o y. as T{egistrary 
 
 at Christ's Lodge, and on 16th March he records that the pro- 
 posed appointment of a Syndicate to prepare " a scheme for 
 females degrees" was thrown out by 186 to 171, chiefly on the 
 ground that it did not adequately represent the divergent 
 opinions of members of the Senate. But the matter did not 
 rest there — a second Syndicate was appointed on 4th June 
 of the same year. They reported on 23rd February 1897, 
 and the Report was discussed on 13th March, the discussions 
 occupying sixty-six pages of the Reporter. There seemed at 
 jfirst some chance of their jn'oposals being carried, when, on 
 17th Mav, J., with the then President of Queens', the then 
 Master of Gonville and Caius, and the Senior Tutor of Clare 
 issued a fly-sheet, " On Degrees for Women," from which I 
 quote the last three sentences : — 
 
 " Our opinion that it is desirable to grant to women who are 
 successful in our Tripos examinations some such distinction 
 as that recommended by the Syndicate has undergone no 
 change, but the opposition which the Report has called forth 
 has compelled us to look at the question from an entirely 
 different point of view. 
 
 " We are forced to ask ourselves whether an extension of 
 privilege to women students ought to be granted at all unless 
 supported by a majority both of resident and of non-resident 
 members of the Senate, such as that by which the grace for 
 admitting women to University examinations was passed in 
 1881. The removal of a grievance which, after all, has pressed 
 upon a comparatively small number of persons, can be bought 
 at too high a price when considerably more than half of the 
 resident members of the Senate are known to be bitterly 
 opposed to the measure, and would view it, if carried, as a grave 
 betrayal of trust. A victory under such conditions as these 
 would be worse than a defeat. The passing of the Graces 
 would, ill our opinion, prove injurious to the best interests of 
 the University ; while the benefit conferred upon those for 
 whom we are risking so much would be of doubtful value. 
 They would find the University hostile instead of friendly.
 
 Degrees for Women 1 6 
 
 " We hope before long for a solution of the problems with 
 which the Syndicate has had to deal, in which the Universities 
 of Oxford and Cambridge may act together." 
 
 The effect of this fly-sheet was widely felt. It " stampeded " 
 a number of waverers, and when the vote was taken on 21st May 
 1897, the proposals were thrown out by between two and three 
 to one. 
 
 At Easter, 1896, J. and Willy made a short tour in France, 
 haunting libraries. They visited Amiens, Noyon, Laon, Rheims, 
 Senlis, and, of course, Paris, and J. writes home : — 
 
 RheimSj 1st April 1896. 
 
 " I have made a great discovery here — two most im- 
 portant libraries : one belonging to the Jesuits, fitted up 
 in 1678, and now used as the lingerie of the Hopital 
 General ; the other that of St. Remi, fitted up about a 
 century later, and now used as the Chapel of the Hotel 
 Dieu. The wood-work in both is as perfect as the day 
 it was put up, and quite splendid of its kind — that of the 
 Jesuits especially." 
 
 An entry in J.'s diary reminds me that in this year I nearly 
 got into serious trouble by opening a little Exhibition of pic- 
 tures in the Bijou Theatre, now the Gymnasium next door to 
 Messrs. Barclay's Bank, which the Bank-directors had most 
 kindly lent me. I had no idea that if you held an exhibi- 
 tion and took money at the door you must have the leave 
 of the town authorities, and we were open half a day before 
 I was warned. However, the Mayor, whom I at once sought, 
 was very kind, and gave me the required permit on the spot. 
 The pictures we exhibited are probably quite out of date 
 now, but in 1896 they were, to us poor provincials, start- 
 lingly new. They produced on us at that time the sort of 
 impression the paulo-post-impressionists produce on the lay- 
 man at the present day. In my extremity I had engaged 
 an underworked publican with the mien of a prize-fighter 
 
 L
 
 1 62 y- ^^ T{egistrary 
 
 to collect the shillings. He had told nie he was strictly 
 honest, later I doubted the truth of his statement. He sat 
 close to a stove near the exit reading the Sjportsman^ and 
 when the amazed visitors, having inspected the pictures in 
 the outer room, made for the open air, he forced them back, 
 indicating the inner room with a jerk of his thumb, and saying, 
 " There're worse 'uns inside.'' It is rather a relief to me that 
 while both J. and Mrs. J. visited the Exhibition, they have 
 not put on record what they thought of the pictures. 
 
 J. was still haunting libraries, spending some days in 
 August in the neighbourhood of Hereford, and then going 
 on to Canterbury to stop with his old friend Canon A. J. Mason. 
 
 In a letter to Mr. C. E. Sayle, he says : — 
 
 " I propose to go through the buildings seriatim, Willis 
 in hand, and if I am to see anything I had need stick 
 tight to him, for successive Deans have improved oft' the 
 face of the earth many interesting features since he wrote. 
 I ventured to suggest to Mason that we ought to add 
 a new petition to the Liturgy: 'From all Deans and 
 Architects, Good Lord deliver us ! ^ Really it is a 
 wonder that anything has survived. 
 
 " We've had a delightful time in and near Hereford — 
 weather not bad — always something interesting to see on 
 hand. From Monday till to-day we were with Lady 
 Lyttelton near Ross — a wonderful place, with a view that 
 delighted even me. I am always tempted to say with 
 the old Frenchman, ' Aimez vons les grandes vues de la 
 Nature ? Pour moi, je les abhorre.' " 
 
 In the spring of 1897, Willy, to J.'s great delight, won a 
 jNIajor Scholarship at Trinity. A few days later J. and Mrs. J. 
 started for Paris, where they were joined later by Mr. and 
 Mrs. Lionel Cust and Edward. They had a delightful holi- 
 day, and did a round of theatres. 
 
 For a considerable period before the time we have now 
 reached — the end of 1897 — the name of Mr. T. D. Atkinson has 
 constantly occurred in J.'s diary as being frequently at Scroope 
 House, and in 1897 the result of their conferences appeared in
 
 y. as a Lecturer 163 
 
 the form of that interesting book, Cambridge Described and 
 Illustrated. But the following year J. made an even greater 
 hit in his Concise Guide to the Town and University of Cam- 
 bridge. This has already gone through four large editions, the 
 last being that of 1910. The Guide-book, one of the most 
 successful of its kind, is arranged in four walks round the 
 town. 
 
 J. usually gave a popular lecture or two each year. For 
 instance in 1898 he lectured on Mediaeval Libraries at Here- 
 ford, and again at Preston, and a little later at Barnwell 
 on the Abbey Buildings. J.'s matter was always excellent, 
 well thought out and well arranged, his diagrams were most 
 ingenious and his slides most instructive, yet somehow he 
 was not a great lecturer on formal occasions. Both as a 
 speaker and as a lectm-er there was something missing in his 
 delivery. He stuck too close to his manuscript. He carefully 
 prepared his speeches, but for some reason or another, though 
 you agreed with his argument, his rhetoric left you cold. 
 In his lectures I think he attempted too much ; they often 
 lasted an hour and a half or an hour and three-quarters, 
 and he would attempt to throw on the screen as many as 
 seventy lantern slides. Where he was at his best was in 
 making short, terse speeches, or in taking a small company 
 round Cambridge and from time to time delivering little 
 impromptu addresses upon the buildings. In this connexion 
 the following amusing entry appears in Mrs. J.'s diary : "The 
 Working Men's College came to Cambridge for the day and 
 J. gave them a lecture in Downing Grounds before they started 
 sight-seeing. This figured in the programme of the day as 
 ' Bread and Cheese, and Mr. Clark's Lecture ' ! " 
 
 J. was always willing to place his unrivalled knowledge 
 of College buildings at the disposal of his friends, and when 
 Queens' College in 1898 celebrated the four hundred and 
 fiftieth anniversary of its foundation, he drew up a beauti- 
 fully illustrated account of the history of the College and its 
 buildings for the use of those attending the ceremony.
 
 164 y' ^s T^egistrary 
 
 In August of the same year the fourth meeting of the 
 International Congress of Zoology was held in Cambridge, and 
 J., who had an unrivalled experience in managing Congresses, 
 took an active part in the preparations for this one. He 
 had as his guests his old friend Professor Milne-Edwards, the 
 Baron de Guerne, and M. Schlumberger. 
 
 J. always had a high sense of the dignity of his office as 
 Registrary, a dignity of which some of the undergraduates 
 were ignorant. They sometimes entered the Registry in a 
 cloth cap, and sometimes with a cigarette between their lips. 
 They never did it twice. On one occasion when a gentleman of 
 colour was behaving in an unusually fidgeting way, J. suddenly 
 burst out, " I'll have you understand, Sir, that you are in the 
 Registry of the University of Cambridge and not dancing about 
 outside your mother's wigwam." Freshmen at Matriculation 
 were often his despair. He used to say that most of them could 
 not write, while of the remainder some did not even know their 
 full Christian names, while others, who were better informed 
 on this point, did not know how to spell them. Here, however, 
 as always, J. welcomed the genuine inquirer, and he was especi- 
 ally pleased by one undergraduate who said to him, " Before 
 signing my name in your book, sir, I should like to know to 
 what it commits me. I promised my father never to sign 
 any document without first understanding it." In November 
 1898, Lord Kitchener, recently returned from his campaign 
 against the Mahdi, received an honorary degree. After the 
 ceremony the behaviour of the undergraduates was not such 
 as to impress the Sirdar. J. took the matter up, and next 
 week in the Cambridge Review he let certain of the younger 
 members of the University know what was thought of their 
 behaviour on this occasion. 
 
 One thing J. enjoyed doing as Registrary was exercising a 
 little private patronage in the way of granting tickets for the 
 various functions in which the University from time to time 
 indulges. He was particularly thoughtful about the widows of 
 Professors and of others connected with the University. These
 
 Silver Weddi72g 165 
 
 ladies' names, not being on any of the lists of University resi- 
 dents, are apt to be overlooked, and he took especial care that 
 they should not be forgotten. At the celebration in honour 
 of Sir George Stokes in the summer of 1899, J. asked him how 
 many tickets he would require, and Sir George, who was the 
 most learned and the most modest of men, said " he supposed 
 he must have one for himself, and, if it could be spared, he 
 should like one for Lady Stokes." 
 
 The 9th December 1898 was the silver wedding of J. and 
 Mrs. J., but owing to the Trinity Commemoration the celebra- 
 tion was postponed for one day, as the following letters show. 
 On the 10th they sat down sixteen to dinner, and " the Master 
 of Magdalene ^ proposed our health in a charming speech." 
 
 J. to H. A. Newton. 
 
 ScROOPE HousK, Cambridge, 
 Ml November 1898. 
 
 " Dear Harry, — We are going to celebrate our Silver 
 Wedding on the 9th December — that is to say, that is the 
 actual day on which the happy event ought to be com- 
 memorated, but we find we have run against the Trinity 
 College Commemoration, so we shall hold the formal dinner, 
 which is de rigueur on those occasions, on Saturday the 
 10th. We hope you will stay with us from Saturday to 
 Monday, or Friday to Monday, if you can manage it. — 
 Ever your affectionate, J. W. Clark." 
 
 10 Beaufort Gardens, S.W., 
 
 2th November 1898. 
 
 " Dear J., — I shall be too delighted. I am afraid I 
 cannot now say whether I can come on the Friday, but 
 Saturday, December 10, is booked, irrevocably booked, that 
 I may wish my dear J. and his dear wife long life and 
 continued happiness, such as I believe they have enjoyed 
 to my personal knowledge for eighteen years. 
 
 ^ The Reverend and Houourable Latimer Neville, afterwards the sixth 
 Lord Braybrooke.
 
 1 66 y* ^^ IR^gistrary 
 
 " It is very kind indeed of you to ask me on such an 
 occasion to celebrate a ' run ' of such a length ! What, 
 I shoukl like to know, has Trinity to commemorate in 
 comparison ? 
 
 " Did Trinity restore order to the finances of the 
 A.D.C. ? Has Trinity given the real blessings of a home to 
 generations of undei'graduates ? No. Trinity has achieved 
 a certain prestige from its Heads, and from the manufac- 
 ture of Dons, but Scroope House has triumphantly 
 flourished as the Home of Hearts and the Shrine of the 
 Drama. — Ever yours, H. A. Newton."" 
 
 Early in January 1899, Willy having passed the Home 
 and Indian Civil Service Examination accepted a post in the 
 Board of Trade. He had previously been offered the Ad- 
 miralty and the Civil Service Commission. Edward, who was 
 threatened with lung trouble, was passing the winter at Davos 
 under the care of Dr. Edward Henry Douty, late of King's 
 College, an intimate friend of J. and his family, and towards 
 the end of March, J., accompanied by one of his closest friends, 
 Keggie Balfour, set out to see him and to tour in Italy. His 
 companion left him after a day or two at Paris, but rejoined 
 him later at Assisi. After spending a week at Davos, the 
 quiet of which J. found very delightful, he left for Rome. 
 The following letters to his wife tell of his doings: — 
 
 Hotel de Londres, Rome, 
 
 Stk April 1899. 
 
 " I spent yesterday afternoon with Father Ehrle,^ who 
 was kindness itself, and explained many things to me that 
 I had not fully taken in before. I am to meet him again 
 this morning at 10 a.m., and as the Library is shut, I shall 
 have him to myself all day."" 
 
 Hotel he Londres, Home, 
 lOth April 1899. 
 
 " I would not lead the life the 's lead for £\0,QQQ a 
 
 year. No quiet, no real pleasure, no means of acquiring 
 
 ^ Librarian at the Vatican.
 
 T^ 
 
 ome 167 
 
 knowledge about the place, or I'ealising its beauties — merely 
 a dull round of card-leaving and saying pretty things to 
 people you don't care about, and who don't care about you. 
 "I have had a great triumph to-day. You will re- 
 member that I said that the Vatican fittings put up by 
 Sixtus IV must have been like those of Cesena. A short 
 while since, while some repairs were being made in the 
 Ospedale di Santo Spirito, which he founded, they came 
 on some frescoes under the whitewash. One of these 
 shows Sixtus in the middle of his library, with the book- 
 cases and two readers seated at them. They are exactly 
 like those at Cesena. There's an undesigned coincidence ! " 
 
 "o' 
 
 On 9th April he dined with Monsignor, now Bishop, 
 Stanley and met the Heads of the English, Scotch, and Irish 
 Colleges : — 
 
 "Their conversation might have suited the library of 
 Sixtus IV, They talked of what they allowed their pupils 
 to read, what newspapers were permitted in their colleges, 
 etc. It seems that a very strict censorship is enforced ; 
 and these sucking priests may only read certain prints, 
 and not all of those. At last the spirit of mischief made 
 me utter an impassioned defence of VAssommoh; which 
 made them sit up a bit." 
 
 In the spring of 1900 he again went to Rome, where his 
 brother-in-law, Sir George Bonham, was then First Secretary of 
 Embassy, accompanied by Willy. I add some extracts from 
 his letters to Mrs. J. while in Italy : — 
 
 Orvieto, Easter Day, 
 15thAprin900. 
 
 " Willy will have told you what we did up to Siena. 
 We spent Good Friday there very peacefully, and found 
 an English service of a sort. It was held in a building 
 which called itself the Waldensian Church, and from its 
 internal arrangement that community appears to differ 
 but slightly from the Presbyterians of your country. 
 There was a portico in the Classic style in front, through 
 which you passed into an oblong room with a small semi-
 
 1 68 J' ^^ ^gistrary 
 
 circle at the end of it. Into this was squeezed a piece of 
 furniture which looked like the back of a piano, and was, 
 I suppose, a pulpit ; and in front of it again was a small 
 deal table (the altar?). For the English service these 
 things were not disturbed, but it was said from a second 
 deal table, set somewhat to the side." 
 
 Rome, iOth April 1900. 
 
 " I am now writing a very brief letter, chiefly because 
 I shall not be able to write to-morrow. I am going all by 
 myself to see Fossa Nuova, a Cistercian Monastery which 
 is said to have been never altered. It is only sixty miles 
 from Rome; but I have to start at 7 a.m., and shall not 
 get back till 8.50 p.m. ! It is situated in the Neapolitan 
 territory near Terracina. I am in hopes of doing the 
 excursion with something approaching to comfort, as I 
 have obtained a, permesso to go over the building (of which 
 the Government has taken possession); and Prince Bor- 
 ghese (who owns an estate in the neighbourhood) has 
 written to his agent to show me some civility. 
 
 " After lunch, Louisa ^ . . . lent us the carriage to go to 
 S. Peter's again, where I was to meet Father Ehrle. 
 That dear person took us a long but delightful walk 
 through the Pope's private garden, and thence into the 
 court of the palace, which is not often seen. The 
 private garden is never shown to strangers. It might 
 be made very beautiful, but the Pope is so nervous 
 that the trees have been encouraged to grow up and 
 shut out the view. I was much edified by his taste in 
 polyanthuses — now just coming into flower. Ehrle and 
 I had a long talk about my researches, and he was most 
 kind and encouraging. 
 
 " There is a short but sympathetic article in a perio- 
 dical called Knnst Cro7iik; by Professor Steinmann of the 
 German Archaeological School here. I wish I knew how 
 to get at that nation. I believe they would appreciate 
 my work more than the English are likely to do. I have 
 now quite made up my mind that I will make no further 
 new researches, but write the book - and have done with it. 
 
 * His sister-in-law, Lady Bonliam, 
 
 " The Care of Books. It appeared in 1901.
 
 Liib varies at T^aris 169 
 
 It ought not to take me long, having regard to what is in 
 print already ; and when it is once out, I may be able 
 to get fresh information and bring out a new edition 
 before I die." 
 
 J. spent some of the first days of this century in Paris, 
 working in the daytime and play-going in the evening : — 
 
 Paris, 9^/* January 1901. 
 
 " I spent yesterday with Jacques,^ both lunching and 
 dining there. In the interval I went to the Bibliotheque 
 Mazarine, where I found, after some difficulty, a book I 
 wanted much to see — a commentary on the Rule of a 
 certain Congregation de la Sainte Croix. M. Franklin 
 had quoted a long extract from what he called the Rule, 
 which was very interesting from the Library point of 
 view ; but I had my doubts. I now find he was quoting 
 the Commentary and calling it the Rule ! So down goes 
 that idol. I am such a vieux respectable that he actually 
 lent me the book, and it lies on my table at this moment. 
 
 " To-day I went down to the Bibliotheque de TArsenal 
 and had a long talk with my excellent friend M. Henri 
 Martin, librarian. There I smashed another idol — a sup- 
 posed private chained library. It turns out that the 
 good man left it to his native place, Pistoia, and that 
 the city chained it in 1460 — two years after he died — a 
 very natural and proper precaution." 
 
 On the 10th April 1901, Edward married Miss Lilian Mil- 
 man, eldest daughter of the late Sir Archibald Milman, K.C.B., 
 Clerk of the House of Commons. J. and his wife were very 
 happy over this wedding. After Mrs. J.'s death, Mrs. Edward 
 did everything in the world to care for him, and he was never 
 happy when she was away. 
 
 The following July, J. spent a week-end at Wenlock Abbey, 
 one of Mr. Milnes-Gaskell's places. Evidently he thoroughly 
 enjoyed his visit: — 
 
 ^ M. Jacques Reubell.
 
 lyo y. as ^B^gistrary 
 
 Wenlock Abbey, Much Wenlock, Shropshire, 
 Sunday, 21st July 1901. 
 
 " One is quite out of the world here ; but I don't long 
 for pavement — at least not yet. In fact the charm of 
 this strange weird house — so unlike anything I have ever 
 seen elsewhere — has not worn off as yet. We live in the 
 open air — all doors and windows wide — and both nights 
 we have dined out of doors — last night on the grass where 
 once the cloister was. It must be this that has done 
 me so much good that I feel a different creature. Both 
 nights I have slept as sound as many tops. 
 
 " Need I add that I am entirely at Lady Catherine's ^ 
 feet. She is a really cultivated and thoroughly agree- 
 able woman, who writes plays, and very good ones too. 
 Fortunately for me this is their place of rest to which 
 they retire from a rat-castle near Wakefield, where he 
 is Chairman of the County Council, and she has to open 
 bridges and say good-bye to Volunteers, and the like. 
 So I have them to myself, and most thoroughly am I 
 enjoying it. In fact I am strangely and completely 
 fascinated by a life that is quite new to me."" 
 
 Wenlock Abbey, Much Wenlock, Shropshire, 
 22nd July 1901. 
 
 "I have completed my plan of the curious little library 
 building here, and flatter myself that it is rather a sweet 
 thing. I have done it at mv leisure, without inter- 
 ruj)tions. There is never any interrupting here except 
 what they make for themselves." 
 
 From Wenlock Abbey he went on to Falconhurst, the 
 country house of Mr. J. G. Talbot, then Member for Oxford 
 University, the father of J.'s great friend Eustace, and here 
 on the 29th July he was thrown out of a dog-cart and broke 
 his right arm. The fracture was a serious one, and it was 
 long before he regained the use of his arm. 
 
 In the two following letters he reports progress to Mrs. J., 
 who was away from home for a few days : — 
 
 ^ Lady Catheriue Milues-Gaskell.
 
 y. breaks his tArm 171 
 
 ScROOPE House, Cambridge, 
 2Ath October 1901. 
 
 " As for myself, I am getting on very well, and I can 
 lift my arm with comparative ease, straight up and down ; 
 but any attempt to bend the fingers, or turn the wrist, 
 still causes violent pain. However, this pain diminishes 
 in hot water, so it must be taken as muscular. I am now 
 wearing only one sling instead of two, and I want to 
 get leave to discard the sling at night. . . . 
 
 " I hope that you have received all the letters I have 
 sent on to you. You must be amused with the different 
 hands in which they are directed ; I employ anybody who 
 may happen to be at hand." 
 
 Scroope House, 
 
 27^A October 1901. 
 
 " I ^ am sitting at J."'s table, and he is being massaged, 
 and he tells me to write as follows. First, that Miss 
 Rogers 2 says the arm is distinctly better, and going on 
 splendidly. He says it hurts being massaged — she says 
 it doesn't. Next, I am to tell you that J. is bearing 
 your absence with philosophy ; last night he had the 
 children and de Bunsen to dine. . . . The book ^ is really 
 published now, and I have seen it ! Miss R. can rub 
 all his lingers without hurting, so she says, but he groans 
 and says ' ai "* — but the fingers are getting straight." 
 
 The following letters deal with the proposal that J. should 
 write the architectural history of Windsor Castle : — 
 
 Lionel Cust to J. 
 
 Oliphant House, Windsor, 
 2mh October 1901. 
 
 "The King has been here at the Castle to-day, and I 
 had luncheon with His Majesty and a few others, in- 
 cluding Holmes of the Library. During luncheon the 
 conversation turned upon the history of Windsor Castle, 
 
 1 Dictated to Dr. G. W. Piothero. 
 ^ The Masseuse. 
 ^ The Care of Books.
 
 172 y. as ^^egistrary 
 
 and the various notes and information collected by Holmes 
 and by Canon Dalton. I then informed the King that 
 you had a few years ago been commissioned by Queen 
 Victoria to prepare an architectural history of the Castle, 
 and that you had been in communication with Bishop 
 Davidson and Canon Dalton upon the subject. The 
 King was very much interested to hear this, and spoke 
 most kindly, even warmly, of you personally. His Majesty 
 went on to say that he would be very much gratified 
 if you could undertake this work, and desired me to com- 
 municate with Canon Dalton upon the subject, immediately 
 upon his return with the Duke of York next Saturday. 
 
 " I think it better for vou to let me know first whether 
 you are willing and able, or not, to undertake the work. 
 I hope that you will, now that your great Library book ^ 
 is off the stocks. The best way will be for you to write 
 me such a letter as I can show to the King. I am, of 
 course, quite ignorant what the scheme was which was 
 approved by Queen Victoria, but this you will no doubt 
 explain to me in the said letter." 
 
 J. to Lionel Cust 
 
 11th November 1901. 
 
 " Your letter in which you mention the kind way in 
 which the King was pleased to speak of me has given me 
 very sincere pleasure, and I must ask you to take an early 
 opportunity of conveying my humble duty to His Majesty, 
 and of assuring him that I will do everything in my 
 power to obey His Majesty's commands. 
 
 " It is not quite accurate to say that I was commissioned 
 by Queen Victoria to undertake this work. What really 
 happened was this. Canon Dalton suggested to me in 
 1890 that I should do for Windsor Castle what I had 
 done for the Colleges of Cambridge, and Dr. Davidson — 
 then Dean — talked the matter over with me. In the 
 following year Canon Dalton asked me by letter (July 30) 
 whether I would really undertake the work, as the Queen 
 was anxious to have it done. This letter was succeeded 
 by one from Dr. Davidson, then Bishop of Rochester, to 
 
 ^ The Care of Books.
 
 Windsor Castle 173 
 
 Canon Dalton (August 17), stating that the matter had 
 been mentioned by him to the Queen, with my willing- 
 ness to undertake it, and that Her Majesty had been 
 graciously pleased to say that she would be glad if the 
 work could 'really be put on the stocks at once.' In 
 subsequent letters I was assured that every facility would 
 be given to me for examining the buildings, and for 
 studying their records. Further, I learnt in conversation 
 with the Bishop that certain drawings prepared for the 
 Prince Consort might be used in the book. 
 
 " At that time I fully intended to attack the work at 
 once, and began the study of the subject; but at the end 
 of the year my eldest son became seriously ill. In the 
 spring of 1892 I had to take him to Madeira, and when I 
 came home my own health gave way, and for about two 
 years I was not allowed to do any work except the most 
 indispensable. I had promised to lecture on Windsor 
 before the Archaeological Institute in 1893, but I 
 could not do so, and my friend, Mr. St. J. Hope, took 
 my place. I believe that he has since continued and 
 developed the history which he then sketched, and, 
 having regard to his known ability in dealing with 
 ancient buildings, I should be glad if his co-operation 
 could be secured. 
 
 " I am afraid that this letter is running to an inordinate 
 length ; but I wish to explain how it happened that I 
 failed to comply with the very flattering invitation made 
 to me ten years ago. 
 
 " The King will doubtless wish to consider what sort of 
 book His Majesty would like to have written. In 1891 I 
 was told that a single volume after the manner of Stanley's 
 Memorials of Westminster was desired, but for a building 
 which has gone through so many changes as Windsor 
 Castle, more ground plans and illustrations than are used 
 in that work would be necessary. These, however, are 
 details on which I need not say more at present. 
 
 " I need only add in conclusion that I will do all in my 
 power to carry out the wishes of the King so soon as I 
 thoroughly understand what sort of book is wanted. I 
 feel tolerably certain that the Cambridge University Press 
 will gladly produce it, but I am unable to state at present 
 on what terms."
 
 174 y. as 1{egistrary 
 
 The Reverend Canon Dalton to J. 
 
 The Cloisters, Windsor Castle, 
 24:th November 1901. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Clark, — Sir Dighton Probyn tells me 
 that it is the King's wish that I should write a few lines 
 to let you know that when His Majesty fell in with a 
 suggestion made by Mr. Lionel Cust that you should 
 undertake the composition of an Architectural History oj 
 Windsor Castle, His Majesty was unaware (as was also 
 Mr. Cust) that Mr. St. John Hope had been at work 
 upon the same for nearly ten years, and ever since your 
 unfortunate illness. There have also been placed at Mr. 
 Hope's disposal, by the late Queen Victoria's permission, 
 all Parker's MS. and the woodblocks which were cut by 
 the Prince Consort's orders to illustrate such work, to- 
 gether with photographs of buildings now destroyed, and 
 plans and drawings of excavations which he and I have 
 made here since 1893, especially of Henry IH's Great 
 Hall and other works, the existence of which had never 
 before been identified in detail. Mr. Hope has also put 
 together, on lines of his own development, a large mass 
 of material gathered from original and contemporary 
 authorities. 
 
 " Under these circumstances the King feels that it is 
 only due to Mr. Hope to let his work go forward inde- 
 pendently. His Majesty deeply appreciates the readiness 
 with which you were good enough to respond to the sug- 
 gestion that you should undertake such a heavy and 
 arduous piece of labour as would be entailed upon you 
 by the composition of such a work, but it appears now 
 unnecessary to trouble you to proceed further with it. 
 Might I, however, be allowed to ask whether you M'ould be 
 disposed to consider favourably the possibility of your 
 adding a ' narrative ' or historical introduction to the 
 book ? By this means your name might still be associated 
 with a work that I know has always lain near your heart. 
 Would you be able to meet, and talk this over with 
 Hope.-^ You know, I am sure, that his reverence and 
 affection for you would prompt him to heartily welcome 
 such a thing if agreeable to yourself — Believe me, dear 
 Mr. Clark, yours very sincerely, J. N. Dalton."
 
 University Library 175 
 
 At the time of J/s death Mr. Hope was still at work on the 
 History^ and J. had thus no opportunity of contributing the 
 historical introduction. 
 
 Throughout 1901 J. was actively supporting the proposals 
 of the Library Syndicate to roof in the Eastern Court of the 
 Library, and to arrange immediately under the roof a spacious 
 reading-room, and under this again a store for books in two 
 floors. The reading-room was to be surrounded by a double 
 wall of books, the bookshelves facing outwards being reached 
 by a light iron gallery. This gallery would afford a convenient 
 means of communication between the adjacent rooms of the 
 library and the reading-room and book-store. The architect 
 estimated that the book-store, with the outer shelves of the 
 reading-room, would hold 117,000 volumes, and the reading- 
 room 12,000 more; these latter would be chiefly works of 
 reference. J. had this matter very much at heart, and in 
 October 1901 he issued a most elaborate pamphlet, in which 
 he sketched the history of the Library, and advocated the 
 proposed enclosure of the Eastern Court. The pamphlet was 
 illustrated with plans, elevations, and sections. 
 
 He was intensely vexed when the Syndicate's proposals were 
 non-placeted by nineteen votes, and he did not conceal his 
 vexation. In fact ever afterwards he divided Members of the 
 Senate into two classes, those who voted " for" and "against" 
 the Library. For instance, shortly afterwards a Member of the 
 Senate, who had voted non-placet, called on J. at the Registry 
 to consult him on an antiquarian point. He wanted informa- 
 tion about the Whitgift Almshouses. Now this gentleman 
 had an impediment in his speech and therefore could not pro- 
 nounce the troublesome word Whitgift very plainly, and J., 
 though he understood perfectly what was wanted, affected to 
 believe that he was asking some question about Wycliffe. " I 
 know," he cried, " I know what you want to And out about 
 Wycliffe. Very interesting point ! I will look it up and write 
 to you ; I am rather busy now." With that he pushed his 
 inquirer, who still vainly tried to articulate the word Whitgift,
 
 176 y- ^^ ^I{egistrary 
 
 towards the door, opened it and got rid of him. Then turn- 
 ing triumphantly to his Assistant Registrary J. said, "That'll 
 teach him to vote against the Library.'" 
 
 There are ahiiost no entries in J.'s diary for 1902. In the 
 spring he was interesting himself in raising a fund to pay off 
 a considerable debt which had been incurred in buying a site 
 for and building the Clergy Training School in Jesus Lane. 
 In this the committee, with which J. was working, were 
 only partially successful. 
 
 In the summer, as Registrary, he attended at Westminster 
 Abbey the ceremony of the deferred Coronation of King 
 Edward VII, and thus describes the great solemnity : — 
 
 United University Club, Pall Mall East, S.W., 
 dth August 1902. 
 
 " The Coronation was a wonderful sight even from my 
 place in the nave. As a spectacle — a display of colour — I 
 have never seen its like, nor could I have imagined so 
 brilliant an effect. It is usual to say of such things that 
 they recalled a parterre, but in this case a flower-bed was 
 not in it. Nothing in nature could equal the brilliant 
 display of uniforms and ladies' dresses, all of the brightest, 
 newest, and most glittering. Our seats were very good, 
 for nave seats, and we could see Avell into the annexe, and 
 up into the quire, but all the important parts of the 
 service were lost to us, and the music so poor and ineffec- 
 tive that they were not marked by any striking passages. 
 I need hardly say that ' Zadok the Priest ' played every- 
 thing else off' the stage. The British aristocracy, after 
 having been shut up in a cupboard for about half a cen- 
 tury, bore the dusting and shaking and burnishing very 
 well, and it was great fun watching the peeresses 'pea- 
 cocking' in, with their trains, along the gorgeous carpet. 
 The King looked extraordinarily well — much thinner, but 
 brown and hearty — and seemed really to enjoy his reception. 
 There was a great outburst of cheering as he passed down 
 the nave. The Queen looked terribly worn, and she had to 
 sign to the Bishop of Oxford to take her hand. We got 
 into the Abbey at 8 a.m., and left it at a quarter to 3, so we 
 had enough of it. I don't know when I have been so tired."
 
 Belgrade 177 
 
 J. was much gratified early in October to receive., from the —'""t 
 University of Oxford the offer of an honorary Litt.D. degree, "O \ 
 which was conferred upon him on the 9th of that month. 
 
 As usual, he spent some of the early days of the new year 
 
 in visiting; his friends at Paris, and at the beg-inninor of 
 
 April started off with Mr. H. J. Edwards of Peterhouse for 
 
 the Near East. The first stop was at Belgrade, to visit his 
 
 brother-in-law. Sir George Bonham, our Minister at the 
 
 Servian Court. They went on to Constantinople, where J. was 
 
 received by his old friend. Sir Henry Babington Smith, then 
 
 President of the Ottoman Debt. They came home by Athens, 
 
 Corinth, Patras, and Brindisi, but the following letters to 
 
 Mrs. J. tell their story : — 
 
 British Legation, Belgrade, 
 %th April 1903. 
 
 " It's an awful place. The two girls have just taken us 
 for a walk to see the fortress, and the view, which is 
 wonderful, as the building, or what is left of it, stands on 
 a promontory at the junction of the Save and the Danube. 
 Unfortunately the day is dull, with an east wind ; in fact 
 just such a day as one would have if one went to Ely, and 
 the view not unlike that from the Cathedral tower, except 
 that the Danube is a trifie wider than the Cam ! All this 
 is interesting enough ; but the town, as I said, is awful. 
 It reminds me rather of those unfinished towns in Algeria, 
 about which the French guide-book was so eloquent. The 
 streets are wide, but paved with huge stones laid anyhow, 
 so that you jolt to and fro when you drive ; and you can 
 pick your way when you walk, as if you were crossing a 
 stream on stepping-stones. The houses are generally in 
 two floors only, but in the streets that are called principal 
 they are loftier. All, however, have a woebegone, starved 
 look, as though they had once been better oft'. I don't 
 suppose the place ever was different to what it is, but it 
 looks as if it had gone to seed. 
 
 " The house is very nice indeed — the drawing-room 
 quite charming. The Bolognese furniture is all a great 
 success ; especially one wonderful settee, with quite a high 
 back returned along the ends, and gilt. It is a marvel, 
 and impressed me so much that I dreamt about it ! 
 
 M
 
 lyS y, as ^E^gistrary 
 
 " By the way, if I had arrived a day sooner, I should 
 have come in for an emeute. Yesterday, being Sunday, 
 and therefore a holiday, some students got up a riot 
 ao-ainst an unpopular journalist, and broke windows 
 and burnt copies of the offending paper, etc. Part of it 
 was just opposite the windows of this house, so the wreck- 
 ing of the office could be easily witnessed. Then the 
 troops were called out, and they fired, and killed a few 
 people, and then it began to rain (fortunately), and so 
 everybody went home. The spring here is very back- 
 ward ; but while the trees are not showing leaf, the lilacs 
 are in flower. There's an untidy spot called a public 
 garden, but destitute of flowers — no spring bulbs — no 
 primroses — nothing but a few flowering shrubs." 
 
 Constantinople, 
 Wednesday Morning, Hth April 1903. 
 
 " The scenery from Belgrade to Constantinople was very 
 interesting, in so far as it gave one some slight idea of 
 an important fragment of the earth's surface — to wit, 
 Bulgaria. It is very like some parts of England, with 
 ample pasture grounds and a few cornfields; and every- 
 where the said pastures seem to be well stocked with 
 sheep, tended by a pair of huge dogs and a shepherd clad 
 in skins, with the hair turned in and the leather turned out. 
 
 " Last night I went to bed very early in order to ensure 
 being up when we got in sight of Constantinople. First 
 the railway reached the sea, which, after the manner of 
 the sunny South whenever I visit it, looked cold and grey. 
 The coast is there very low, and no trees. Plenty of 
 wading birds — tall storks and ducks. Then came a 
 quantity of miserable, tumble-down Turkish villas; and, 
 at last, these were succeeded by the old walls, wonderfully 
 well preserved, seeing all that they have had to endure. 
 Then came more green fields and large gardens, just as 
 there used to be within the walls of Rome, and still are, 
 as you may remember, between the Aventine and the 
 Lateran." 
 
 Constantinople, 
 
 IQth April V.)m. 
 
 "... This wonderful place grows on one every hour. 
 I have never seen anything like it. No description gives
 
 Constanthiople 179 
 
 the slightest idea of it, and I think that most of what has 
 been written fails of the mark, or deals with the time 
 before European influence was what it is now. . . . The 
 streets are my chief delight. Such a crowd, and composed 
 of such strange elements. The almost total absence of 
 ladies or women of the lower orders even ; everybody m 
 a fez or a turban or some unusual head-gear ; the curious 
 objects of traffic — carts drawn by buffaloes, heavily laden 
 mules, men with enormous burdens on their heads, and 
 all talking and shouting at once — make an ensemble of 
 the strangest description. 
 
 "Of course I have been to see Santa Sophia. I went 
 in with a thrill, and the first impression does not wear 
 off. It is a singularly solemn and dignified building, 
 which looks much larger than it is. The central square 
 is only 207 ft. square, about two-thirds of the length of 
 King's Chapel. The Turks have not damaged it at all, 
 and a very few hours would suffice to restore it to 
 Christian worship. . . . The real mischief was done by the 
 Crusaders in 1203. I did not know this before, and I 
 strongly suspect that Byron ^ confused the Turkish Con- 
 quest of 1453 with the Venetian piracy of 1203, when that 
 old thief Dandolo took the city and sacked the churches ! 
 
 " We are going to-day to see the Sultan go to his 
 mosque ! Hal thinks this a suitable occupation for Good 
 Friday — I think it doubtful. However, the exception 
 may be allowed." 
 
 " The ceremony of the Selamlik is very splendid and 
 curious. We visitors took our places at about 11.30 on a 
 terrace overlooking the road down which the Sultan drives 
 to the Mosque, which was directly opposite to where we 
 stood. . . . Gradually squadron after squadron of the 
 Turkish army marched up — splendid-looking men, in 
 smart, clean uniforms — until about 15,000 had been got 
 together, lining the road and blocking every avenue 
 leading up to the palace and mosque. (Hal was much 
 edified with their bearing, and thought they would take 
 a good deal of beating, as I am afraid they will.) 
 Punctually at twelve the muezzin mounted the minaret 
 
 ^ " Oh for one hour of blind old Dandolo ! 
 
 Th' octogenarian chief, Byzantium's conquering foe." 
 
 — Childe Harold, Canto iv. Stanza 12.
 
 i8o y- ^^ T{egistrary 
 
 of the mosque and called the faithful to their prayers, 
 and immediately afterwards the Sultan appeared in an 
 open carriage drawn by two horses. We saw him very 
 well as he came slowly down the hill — a pale, careworn- 
 looking creature in uniform, with a fez, not a turban. 
 . . . The service took about half an hour; and on leavinor 
 the mosque he entered another and smaller carriage, which 
 he drove himself, the servants preceding on foot, and the 
 court running after. . . . 
 
 " As a sample of the feeling with which the Sultan is 
 regarded by the better class of his unfortunate subjects, 
 here is what a Turk, high in office, said to H. B. : 
 " D'habitude je ne bois pas, mais le jour que ce coquin 
 ci'evera, je me griserai comme un polonais. . . .*" 
 
 Constantinople, 12th April 1903. 
 
 " Yesterday we went with H. B. to Stamboul, to hunt 
 for a curious old Byzantine Church called the Saviour 
 Pantocrator ( = All-powerful), near which is an octagonal 
 building said to have been once the library attached to 
 the Church. I am sure I don"'t know whether it was, 
 but it is a curious place. Then we went to the great 
 Mosque of Sultan Mahmoud — the Conqueror — the man 
 who took Constantinople in 1453, a magnificent building, 
 a good deal larger than Santa Sophia, with a very com- 
 plex and effective system of lighting. Hundreds of small 
 lamps, in shape like one of my big claret-glasses, are sus- 
 pended from rods, at a height of not more than 10 or 
 12 feet from the ground. The eff*ect must be very mar- 
 vellous when they are lighted — the floor a blaze of light, 
 and the upper part of the church all gloom. But what 
 is most curious of all is the great fore-court with a cloister 
 all round, and a fountain in the centre, with a cypress 
 at each angle, for all the world like Santa Maria degli 
 Angeli at Rome ; and behind it is a second court, without 
 a cloister, but arranged as a garden, with tombs. In the 
 centre is a special building called a Turbeh, in which 
 Sultan Mahmoud reposes in a huge sarcophagus, with 
 a gigantic taper at each angle, just like a bier in a 
 Roman Catholic church. I wonder which relimon bor- 
 rowed from the other. I am rather excited about the 
 fore-court, for as Santa Sophia had one (which served as
 
 Athens 1 8 1 
 
 a model for all the others), and as it was built in a.d. 532 
 by Justinian, it seems to me very probable that our 
 builders took the idea of a cloister from the East, as they 
 did the pointed arch, and other matters. 
 
 " \?iih April. — Yesterday afternoon Henry took us to 
 see the old walls of the city on the land side. They were 
 built by Theodosius and other emperors, and are in a 
 wonderful state of completeness when we reflect on their 
 antiquity." 
 
 Hotel d'Angleterre, Athens, 
 \^th April 1903. 
 
 "... The Parthenon, ruinous as it is, is indescribably 
 lovely, especially when seen in such a glorious atmosphere, 
 and with the cloudless sunshine we had yesterday. To-day 
 we have a scirocco of great violence which brings with it 
 clouds of dust. The dust is such a pest here, that they 
 have two men stationed at the door of the hotel with 
 large plumeaux in their hands, who dust the visitor when 
 he comes in." 
 
 On his return to Cambridge J. was confronted with a 
 Report of the Council on "The List of Benefactors in the 
 Commemoration Service." He criticised this report in the Arts 
 Schools in rather a merciless way. He began, as he loved to 
 do, with the history of the whole thing ; he considered under 
 various headings "the persons to be commemorated "; he pointed 
 out some really extraordinary omissions in the revised list, and 
 commented upon the retention of names entirely unconnected 
 with the University. In fact he thought the list, as Talleyi-and 
 thought a certain lady's dress, "commence trop tard et finit 
 trop tot." 
 
 In the following year, 1904, I came up after the Christmas 
 vacation on 12th January to find a note from J. on my table 
 saying that our common friend J. S. Budgett was lying in his 
 lodgings very ill with black water fever. Budgett had returned 
 two or three months before from the Congo, having after several 
 years' work and innumerable journeys at last solved the problem 
 of the development of the strange fish Polypterus. He was 
 alone in his rooms, and until his people could come J. had taken
 
 I 8 2 y. as %^gistrary 
 
 command and had seen that he was well nursed and cared for. 
 His writing to tell me was just typical of his thought for others. 
 On the 12th January Lord Braybrooke, Master of Magdalene 
 College, died, and his family, as everyone in trouble seemed to 
 do, at once sent for J. " Busy all day looking after them and 
 Budgett. Overtired and much knocked up at night," is the 
 entry for this day. Budgett ^ died on 19th January, and J. 
 "spent most of the day in talking to his family and arranging 
 for a funeral service in Trinity Chapel." 
 
 This spring, on a bitterly cold day, 1st March, King Edward 
 and his Queen and the Princess Victoria visited Cambridge to 
 open certain of the recently finished Science Schools and the 
 Squire Law Library. The arrangements for this visit took up 
 much time, but J. threw himself into them with his accustomed 
 vigour, and the visit went off well. In connexion with it J. 
 wrote a learned article on previous Royal Visits to Cambridge, 
 which appeared in the Cambridge Keviezv. 
 
 From time to time J. as Registrary had to edit new editions 
 of the Statutes and the Ordinances; these he seemed to enjoy 
 doing, though largely they were matters of scissors and paste. 
 The most important work of this kind that he produced was 
 that on the "Endowments of the University,"" a mine of care- 
 fully sifted and valuable information ; this he prepared in the 
 spring of 1904. This year he also wrote his Concise Guide to 
 Ely Cathedral and a number of other shorter papers. In 
 August the British Association met at Cambridge and J. 
 had as his guests M. Yves Guyot, Sir William and Lady 
 Abney, and his old friends Mr. and Mrs. Maudslay. On 
 the third day of the Meeting he gave an afternoon lecture 
 at the Theatre on " The Origin and Growth of the University 
 of Cambridge." 
 
 This period was a sad one for J. He had an extraordinary 
 genius for cultivating the friendship of the young, and he knew 
 the way to the heart of a boy. Little more than a year after 
 
 ^ I have written a short Memoir of him^ which prefixes his "Collected 
 Papers."
 
 His Young Friends 183 
 
 his friend Budgetfs death came a telegram to say that Wilham 
 Bennett Pike,^ whom J. had known from infancy, and who 
 was a great friend of both Edward and Willy, had been 
 drowned in the Mediterranean. At the end of May came the 
 news that Eustace Talbot had died after an operation. 
 Eustace was one of J.'s dearest friends and was beloved by all 
 who knew him. Without making any great mark as a medical 
 student at Cambridge he had always done well. In the social 
 world of the University he held a high and an honourable 
 position, and since he had been at St. Bartholomew's Hospital 
 he had acquired a notable knowledge of diagnosis. Without 
 doubt had he lived he would have made a great physician. 
 
 The following is a kind letter written in 1905 by J. to 
 a young friend who had failed to take a first class in one part 
 of a Tripos : — 
 
 "' My dear G., — I hope you are not disappointed at 
 your place in the Tripos. Having regard to the severity 
 of the examination, I think it is a very good one ; and if 
 you should be troubled with any regrets, let me add a 
 crumb of comfort. The benefit of a University education 
 is by no means confined to what a man gets out of books. 
 They are splendid things no doubt, and the study of the 
 past has its advantages ; but for anyone who is to occupy 
 a public place in the world (and a clergyman is one of 
 those) a knowledge of men is even more important. So I 
 think that a man who can make the best of both worlds — 
 the past and the present^who goes into many societies, 
 and takes part in many things that are going forward and 
 claiming the interest of his contemporaries, leaves 
 Cambridge a better man than one who has been a student 
 and nothing else. So if you should look at the first class 
 regretfully, think over what I have said, which is my firm 
 conviction based upon a long experience, and not merely 
 invented for the sake of making myself pleasant to you." 
 Ever your affectionate friend, J. W. Clark." 
 
 All this year J. was unusually busy ; he had taken up a 
 campaign in favour of the University Library, and was writing, 
 
 ^ Shortly before J.'s death Willy married his widow.
 
 184 y, as "^gistrary 
 
 with his own hands, two or three letters a day to friends 
 and old members of the University, appealing for funds. 
 He was extraordinarily successful, and in five years got together 
 nearly =C20,000. This year also he wrote numerous articles, 
 and now began to contribute to Country Life, to which he 
 sent some ten beautifully illustrated descriptions of colleges or 
 libraries. He was also preparing an edition of Loggan's 
 Cantabrigia Ilhistrata, issued by Messrs. Bowes & Bowes in 
 1905. 
 
 Throughout the spring and summer J. had been constantly 
 ailing ; the old pains in the head and dizziness had reappeared, 
 and there is constant reference to them in the diary. In spite 
 of this he was able to lecture in August twice to the Library 
 Association, once in and on the Chapel of King's College, and 
 again on " The Evolution of the Bookcase." Shortly after these 
 lectures were over, he started, under orders from his doctors, 
 for Royat, accompanied again by H. J. Edwards of Peterhouse. 
 As usual we have a series of vivid letters to his wife : — 
 
 lO^A September 1905. 
 
 "Things are going on much as usual. We had a 
 pouring torrent of water on Wednesday night and 
 Thursday morning, but yesterday was a real fine day, and 
 Hal and I went to Orcival — a pretty village in a fold of 
 the hills nearer Mont Dore than to this place. It was a 
 long drive of three hours, with a pair of horses. I got a 
 dispensation from one glass of water, as the whole affair 
 took from 10 to 6. But it was well worth the trouble. 
 The whole country was extremely beautiful, the road 
 commanding views of all the extinct volcanoes of these 
 parts, and Orcival itself is in a most picturesque situation, 
 almost hidden amongst the hills, so that you are not aware 
 of its existence till you are close to it. The church is 
 magnificent — quite a little cathedral — about 150 feet long 
 — with nave and aisles, transepts, and choir raised on a 
 crypt. This choir has four apses, a most unusual number. 
 The whole is in a pure Romanesque style, dated about 
 1150 I should think; it is in excellent preservation, and 
 has never been restored (happy church !)."
 
 L,a Chaise Dieu 185 
 
 Lk Puy, Ylth September 1905. 
 
 "The one piece of luck has been the visit to La Chaise 
 Dieu. The morning began, as usual, with rain and a thick 
 mist, but it lifted all of a sudden, and we really saw the 
 place to great advantage, even getting the view from the 
 battlements outside very thoroughly. It's a wonderful 
 place, and I am delighted to have seen it, though of course 
 it has a woebegone, departed-grandeur sort of air. . . . 
 But still, enough is left to make one realise what a huge 
 Benedictine monastery in a remote situation must have 
 been — with its fortified enceinte, its lofty tower of observa- 
 tion, and gate of entrance protected by an adjoining turret 
 with loopholes in it. Then there is the library, intact, over 
 part of the cloister, which tells me some things that I did 
 not know before about the way in which these fifteenth- 
 century monastic libraries were built and cared for." 
 
 Early in 1906 J. was working with his friend Mr. A. T. Bar- 
 tholomew of Peterhouse on a. Hand-list of the Works of Richard 
 Bentley, which was printed for private circulation. This was 
 followed in 1908 by a larger work on the same subject, pub- 
 lished by Messrs. Bowes & Bowes. 
 
 J. paid his annual Easter visit to Paris, accompanied this 
 
 time by Willy, and later they went on to Venice. Mrs. J. had had 
 
 a serious attack of influenza in March and was slow in recovering. 
 
 As the following letters show, J. was anxious about his wife's 
 
 health, and indeed he found her, when he hurried back, ill in bed 
 
 with pleurisy, looking " worse than I have ever seen her." The 
 
 recovery was but slow : — 
 
 Venice, 2\st April 1906. 
 
 " I was indeed relieved to get your letter this morning 
 dated the 18th, for I was beginning to imagine all sorts of 
 horrors. I think you will do well to stay at home and be 
 careful, though I had been thinking that the seaside would 
 be the best thing for you. However, Le pere propose, et 
 les medecins disposent — nothing goes straight. 
 
 " I have already told you what a perfectly lovely day 
 yesterday was. I was too tired to stir out early, so went 
 in a gondola to call on Mme. W. and make arrange- 
 ments. She was at dejeuner — so I just saw her only and
 
 1 86 jf' ^^^ ^{egistrary 
 
 arranged for a meeting between five and six. Charming 
 woman, 50-55, trts mstnLite. After my dejeuner (where 
 they tried to make me eat rognons sautes followed by 
 rumpsteak, but failed) I wandered about the piazza, 
 looked into St. Mark's, and so forth. Then I took ship 
 and went to the Edens where I saw the famous garden. It 
 occupies about two acres, I should think, on the Giudecca 
 with a view out to Chioggia. Such a wealth of greenery 
 and colour. All sorts of things flowering together that 
 we only see separately. A bank of cinerarias, freesias, 
 ixias, arums, and in the borders blue irises, tulips, narcissi, 
 kc. &c. The borders seem to be edged with Madonna 
 lilies with no sign of disease." 
 
 Venice, 22nd April 1906. 
 
 "The people here are delightful. I have completely 
 won over to my interest the librarian, Signor Frati, and 
 he offered to-day to take me into the old library, where we 
 penetrated on the occasion of our last visit. To-morrow 
 morning at 9 a.m. I am to meet the architect of the new 
 building, and if I fail to get out of him a copy of his plan 
 for the roof,^ my name is not what it is ! I am also allowed to 
 do what I please in the library in the way of copying docu- 
 ments, so that I hope to have materials for a pretty lecture. 
 ... I always turn the Latin races round my little finger. 
 
 " You ask about the Campanile. I can't be quite sure 
 what my feelings are. Personally I never cared much 
 about the building, except the squat obelisk at the top, 
 which had a strangely picturesque effect. But somehow 
 without it the square looks odd — St. Mark's so much larger 
 than formerly, the huge mass of the Campanile being absent. 
 
 J. returned early in May, and for the months of July and 
 August they took a house at Woking for the sake of Mrs. J.'s 
 health, and Mrs. Edward Clark went with them to look after 
 her. In August J. was again ordered away to Royat, where 
 Willy joined him. Here are a few letters from there : — 
 
 1 The Marciaiia Library had recently beeu removed from the Ducal 
 Palace to the Zecca, and the court-yard of the Zecca had been roofed in 
 so as to form a reading-room, somewhat after the plan which J. had 
 advocated for the University Library at Cambridge (see p. 175). On his 
 return J. lectured on the Marciana. This lecture was printed in 1911 by 
 the Cambridge Antiquarian Society.
 
 T{oyat 187 
 
 RoYAT, 30^A August 1906. 
 
 "... I am going through a course of Anatole France. 
 ' La Grece s'abrutit,' I said to myself. ' You know nothing 
 about contemporary P'rench literature.'' So I have read 
 Le Mannequin d'Osier, which I don*'t care much about, and 
 am now deep in VOrme du Mail, which is charming." 
 
 J. to A. T. Bartholomew. 
 
 3()th August 1906. 
 
 " I am very glad you are so happy in your Cornish 
 exile. I can imagine Ovid\s feelings in Pontus, panvre 
 cher Jiomme, and I suspect mine in Cornwall would not 
 be very different. I wish I did care more for wild places. 
 I used to do so ; and when I was your age I travelled 
 in Norway (when it was a very rough, wild country) with 
 great delight. So enjoy it while you can. I confess that 
 even now Fd like to see a good rough sea beating over 
 the Tintagel coast, ybr a short time. 
 
 "31^^ August. . . . You must know that in these 
 parts we are either Gauls or Romans. Vercingetorix had 
 his camp at Gergovie close by, and he is duly commemo- 
 rated everywhere. To return to myself. At 9 I take a 
 bath of warm water — Eau Eugenie, to commemorate the 
 Empress, I suppose. This is mildly warm — and it is a bain 
 coulant, that is to say, the water goes on running, so that 
 it does not get chilly. Dejeuner at 11.30, and very ready 
 one is for it I can assure you. After dejeuner I do various 
 things. I sometimes stroll ; or go into Clermont Ferrand, 
 where there are shops and public buildings and picturesque 
 streets ; or sit in my room and work. At 4.30 Eau Cesar 
 again, and at 5.30 Eau Saint Mart. Who this Saint was 
 I leave to the Provost ^ and other hagiologues to say. ' II 
 me fait I'air d'un soldat Romain ' (Martins). At 6.30 we 
 dine, and then we go to bed. The interval may be filled 
 up variously. You can smoke in the garden, or gamble 
 (Petits chevaux or Baccarat), or listen to a band which I 
 am told plays out of tune, or go to the Theatre, which is 
 not bad at all. I have been twice. 
 
 " Besides all this, or worked in among it, I do some 
 work. I am finishing this dreadful Barnwell ^ by making 
 
 ^ i.e. of Kings, Dr. M. R. James. 
 ^ The Liber Memorandorum.
 
 1 88 y- ^^ %egistrary 
 
 a first draft of the Index. When that is done, more 
 articles ^ must be written. In fact I have not a moment 
 to call my own." 
 
 J. to C. Sayle. 
 
 Hotel Continental, 
 
 Royat-les-Bains, P.D.D., 
 
 Qth September 1906. 
 
 " I rather envy your being within reach of Munich. 
 It is the one German capital I really like. Dresden 
 is too full of English, and Berlin is impossible. But 
 I thought the theatre, or rather the Opera, was the 
 principal object of interest there. Don't you rise to 
 the Ring? If you have never heard it, take my advice 
 and don't miss it. Ifs worth living on bread and water 
 for six months to save money for such an experience, and 
 I have only heard a scratch performance of it in London, 
 where Brunhild's steed was a seedy cab-horse, who funked 
 the fire. At Munich they have, or used to have, a dear 
 beast who knew his cues quite well, and walked straight 
 into the fire as if it was his stall. That is art ! 
 
 " Somebody ought to edit the catalogue of Perne's 
 Library. You, I fancy, gave up the task, but why not 
 resume it? ... It is my rooted conviction that every- 
 body has time for everything if they choose, i.e. if they take 
 a real interest in what they are asked to undertake. 
 
 " I am deep in Anatole France, whom I had not read 
 before. I have now read UOiTtie du Mail and Crinque 
 Bille, and atn reading Monsieiu- Bergeret a Paris, which is 
 delightful, though not suitable for families. I have 
 Le Crime de Sylvestre Bonnard in reserve, and will buy 
 the two vou have recommended when I get to Paris. I 
 don't quite know how to define the charm which he un- 
 questionably possesses. He does not draw character 
 particularly well, but he seems to me to be quite excellent 
 in the way of reproducing in dialogue a past phase of 
 opinion, or a national craze. Hence, he is so good about 
 r Affaire; and the })lot in Felix Faure's time to restore 
 the monarchy. I wish I had UAnneau d"" Amethyste here 
 to complete the Bergeret series. I have it at home, but I 
 have only read a few chapters of it." 
 
 ^ For Country Life.
 
 Vichy 189 
 
 J. to Mrs. J. 
 
 ViCHY^ 14^/i September 1906. 
 
 " The place is quite lovely. I had never seen a French 
 watering-place of the first class before. It strikes me as a 
 sort of fairyland, as I said on my post-card, a combination 
 of nature and art to provide an exquisite resting-place for 
 the sick and those who fancy themselves so. There*'s a 
 river with a broad quay along its banks (constructed by 
 Napoleon III), whence you get lovely views of the distant 
 hills; and a nouveau pare, all greenery and coolness. 
 Then there is the vieux pare, a grove of trees planted close 
 together so as to shelter les vialades from the sun. It is 
 beautifully kept, with an abundance of seats. . . . Lastly, 
 there's the old town, a quaint little place on a hill, with 
 the church where Mme. de Sevigne said her prayers, and 
 the house where she resided in 1676 and 1677 (according 
 to a plaque on the outside). Etta ^ says she wrote several 
 charming letters from here recording her impressions, 
 and among other things the extraordinary fact that she 
 bought a pair of fowls for two sous ! " 
 
 J. to C. Sayk. 
 
 ScROOPE House, 
 20th September 1906. 
 
 " I have never read Balzac"'s Beatrix. To my mind 
 his best work (of those I have read) is Une tenehreuse 
 Affaire. At present I am going quite crazy over Vile 
 Inconnue, by Pierre de Coulevain — the best and most 
 generous criticism of England that has vet been written. 
 
 " I am utterly amazed at your cool indifference about 
 Niirnberg. Why, even to walk along the streets is a joy. I 
 have been there four or five times, and I could go forty or 
 fifty without satiety. I wish the place had smelt of any- 
 thing so wholesome as kummel u hile I was there ! My 
 memory recalls Byron''s lines : — 
 
 ' With human gore that column was cemented, 
 With human filth that column is defiled !' " 
 
 1 Miss Reubell.
 
 190 y* ^^ T{egistrary 
 
 On his return J. found that his wife's health had not 
 improved, and it was now decided that Edward and his 
 wife and family should come and live at Scroope House. This 
 necessitated an enlargement of the house, which was carried 
 out without delay. He did not always see eye to eye with his 
 ground-landlords; I imagine few tenants do, but I think none 
 but he would have in cold blood carefully arranged the letters 
 that passed between them, neatly tied them up in a bundle, 
 and endorsed them " Correspondence with those Brigands the 
 Master and Fellows of College."" 
 
 On the first day of November, J. met with a serious accident 
 in London. Seeking to avoid a motor omnibus, he got into 
 the way of a hansom cab, was knocked down and much 
 injured, and had to remain in bed for some days, fighting his 
 doctors and nurse. He was picked up by a policeman, and 
 being much shaken asked the custodian of the peace to hold 
 him tight by the arm and lead him to his hotel, which was only 
 a few hundred yards away. When they had gone a little 
 distance the policeman stopped and said to J., " I think it 
 would be better, sir, if instead of my holding your arm, you 
 were to hold mine : it would remove from the public mind 
 any apprehension that you are under arrest " — a remark which 
 elicited from J. the characteristic reply, " Don't be a damned 
 fool, I don't the least care about appearances ; what I want 
 to do is to get back to my hotel.*" The following letter, 
 written after J.'s accident in London, sives some account 
 of the number of injuries he received :- 
 
 '5 fe' 
 
 Scroope House, Cambridge, 
 Uh November 1906. 
 
 " Dear G., — I shall be delighted to see you at any 
 time. I am getting over my injuries as quick as I can, 
 and am fighting with my doctor about the amount of rest 
 which it is necessary to take. 
 
 " I have two black eyes, a broken nose, a bruise on my 
 neck, and injuries to my left knee and another to my right 
 foot. These iniuries make me hideous to behold and verv
 
 Sidjnouth 191 
 
 cross. It is such a nuisance to be tied to bed when you 
 want to be moving about. — Always your affectionate, 
 
 " J. W. Clark." 
 
 It was decided this autumn that Mrs. J. must winter on 
 the south coast, and in October a furnished house, " Norton 
 Garth," was taken at Sidmouth, and the new year opens 
 there : — 
 
 J. to C. Sayle. 
 
 5th January 1907. 
 
 " Here we are, all united at last. My wife joined me 
 to-night at 5.38 — terribly exhausted with her long journey, 
 but not more so, I hope and trust, than was inevitable. 
 The place seems suitable, being quiet and sunny, and 
 we like our house. I have submitted it to a drastic 
 treatment, having turned the best bedroom into a drawing- 
 room, and the drawing-room into my wife's bedroom, and 
 abolished, or put out of sight, all I could that belonged 
 to the rooms in their primitive condition. The drawing- 
 room looks really nice now that I have dressed it out 
 with a certain amount of cut flowers. And I have dis- 
 covered line Jleuriste frajii^mse ; elle est charmante, et, sans 
 doute, elle me fera depenser pas mal d^irgent, mais fatirai 
 ioujours de guoi causer. You, who hate the Latin races 
 in general, and the French in particular, will not see 
 the charm of all this." 
 
 The sunshine and quiet at Sidmouth gradually restored 
 Mrs. J. to a certain measure of health. J. was bustling to 
 and fro between the Devonshire watering-place and Cambridge, 
 and seemed little the worse for his journeys. In January 
 he lost two close friends. Professor Maitland, who had sym- 
 pathised with and aided his archaeological researches, 
 and Sir Michael Foster, whose advent as Praelector in 
 Physiology at Trinity College in June 1870, he had ardently 
 welcomed, and whose path as the introducer of the new learning 
 he had ever sought to smooth. Till quite recently — when his 
 strength was failing — seldom a Sunday afternoon passed with-
 
 192 y. as ^^gistrary 
 
 out his making the pilgrimage to the shrine at Shelford (the 
 Fosters' home), " Michaers Mount "" as his friends were fond of 
 calHng it; the fact that he had in a measure given up his 
 work in the Natural Sciences by no means weakened his 
 affection for the Fosters, who knew that at Scroope House 
 they had a Cambridge home. For many years they had always 
 dined there on Christmas Day, whilst J. and his wife were the 
 guests of the Fosters at Shelford annually on 8th INIarch, Sir 
 Michael's birthday. 
 
 Another old friend, with whom J. had been closely associated 
 for over forty years, Alfred Newton, died in June. Each of 
 them occasionally spoke a little sharply of the other, but 
 in their hearts they respected and loved each other, and, 
 whilst the Professor was able to get so far, there were few 
 who more frequently called at Scroope House, and J. to 
 the end paid continual visits to the Old Lodge at Magdalene 
 College. In July, too, he heard the news of Reggie Balfour's 
 death. He was a young man of high ability and character 
 and of singular charm, who during the four years he spent 
 at Cambridge made Scroope House his home. Of all the 
 young men whom I know that J. and Mrs. J. befriended and 
 helped, Eustace Talbot and Reggie Balfour were, I think, the 
 most dear to them. Now both were dead. 
 
 This year appeared the Liber Memorandorum Eccles'ie de 
 Bernexvelle, to which J.'s friend, the late Professor Maitland, 
 contributed an Introduction. 
 
 By the middle of May the family was back at Scroope 
 House; but Mrs. J. was still very weak, and could walk but 
 short distances. In August and September, J. made his usual 
 cure at Royat, Until his arrival at Royat the diary has no 
 entries, or almost no entries, about his own health ; during the 
 preceding months he was probably too anxious about his wife's 
 state in the earlier part of the year, but in the summer the 
 headaches and the dizziness reappear in the diary. Edward and 
 his wife joined him at Royat, and travelled home with him, 
 visiting the Chateaux on the Loire en route. He was in very
 
 %oyat 193 
 
 good health, and his letters to Mrs. J. from France are more 
 than usually interesting : — 
 
 Hotel St. Romain, Paris, 
 2\st August 1907. 
 
 "I had a pleasant enough journey yesterday. I found 
 the Dean of Westminster ^ on board, and I spent the time 
 in talking to him. He is always entertaining, and was 
 specially so yesterday, in discoursing of the wonderful 
 wealth of ' Obedientiary Rolls "* which he has found in 
 the Abbey. There are about 5000 of them ! The Abbey 
 seems to have taken possession of him, and he is working 
 steadily at its history." 
 
 Hotel Continental, 
 
 Royat-les-Bains, P.d.D.j 
 IQrd August 1907. 
 
 " . . .1 am fascinated with a book I bought in Paris 
 on Etta's recommendation, Julie de VEspinasse, by the 
 Marquis de Segur. It is long since I read so charming 
 a picture of a whole society, with Julie as the central 
 figure. I suppose the Marquis is a relative, perhaps the 
 grandson, of the Vicomte de Segur who was an intimate 
 friend of Napoleon, and wrote his Memoirs. Anyhow, 
 being what he is, he writes delightful French, not the 
 argot now prevailing, and also has had the entree to all 
 sorts of family papers, out of which he has composed, for 
 the first time, the real history of Mile, de TEspinasse. 
 Moreover, he knows how to use his documents. He is a 
 born historian. I am proposing to send the book to you 
 as soon as I have finished it. I read 200 pages in the 
 train yesterday, not skippingly, but every word, and 
 some sentences twice. 
 
 " What a wonderful society it was ! It is difficult 
 to understand how the same people met every day 
 from 6-9, and often again at supper, and yet found 
 something new to say: and when they did not meet they 
 wrote to each other. That was the work of the morning. 
 They dined at 2, rapidly, evidently it was a sort of lunch 
 (my style), then went out, but returned in good time for 
 the daily reception. I remember reading somewhere that 
 
 ^ Dr. Armitage Robinson, now Dean of Wells. 
 
 N
 
 194 y* ^^ IR^gistrary 
 
 Tallevrand told Lady Holland that those who had not 
 lived in salons before the Revolution did not know what 
 conversation was, but I should like to know what they 
 talked about." 
 
 Hotel Continental, 
 
 Royat-les-BainSj P.D.D., 
 24iA August 1907. 
 
 "... Yesterday the longing for a real good pavement 
 seized me (Mile, de TEspinasse never went into the country 
 if she could help it), and I went over to Clermont. . . . 
 
 "I am still deep in Mile, de TEspinasse, and as much 
 under the charm of the book and the lady as ever, I 
 fear that the work I brought with me won't get done. 
 The lady, pauvre cher ange, does not improve in character 
 or style as one goes on. After a long life spent in the 
 exercise of all the virtues, she fell completely under the 
 dominion of a clever scamp, who used her for his own 
 advancement and amusement, and broke her heart. So the 
 comedy tourne au ti'agique.'''' 
 
 Hotel Continental, 
 
 Royat-les-Bains, P.D.D., 
 2(}th August 1907. 
 
 "Now for yesterday. We had a most delightful day 
 with the Von Hugels, much enhanced by the strangeness 
 and novelty of their surroundings. They have established 
 themselves in the Inn at Pontgibaud, a little town of 900 
 inhabitants about 30 kilometres off. The said Inn is not 
 too uncomfortable, and the food (a la fran(^.aise) excellent. 
 It is on a high road, and what with the automobiles and 
 the railway, they are full of business. One day last week 
 they cooked sixty-five dinners ! I felt that I had never 
 understand v. H. before. One forgets that he is an 
 Austrian, and not an Englishman. Here he is completely 
 in his element, chattering with everybody, knowing all 
 about them, discussing their private afl'airs — their joys and 
 their sorrows — with the priests and the old women, 
 patronising the local hairdresser and collecting curiosities. 
 He has taken up keys which apparently offer a ground of 
 research not as yet exploite par les autres; and he has 
 bought a perfectly priceless bowl of Samian ware (so called) 
 for a morceau de pain, as they say here. . . . Pontgibaud
 
 %oyat 195 
 
 not being primitive enough, the v. H's. are going on 
 Wednesday to a still smaller village, where they have 
 found two rooms in a newly built house. He took us to 
 see the place. I confess that I had rather he lived in them 
 than I ! But the people seemed nice, and I had a good 
 deal of fun with an ancient dame about les viphrs which 
 abound in those parts. B. ^ and I are to spend next 
 Sunday with them (not the vipers) there. 1 shall be 
 curious to see what happens." 
 
 Hotel Continental, 
 
 Royat-les-Bains, P.D.D., 
 281 h August 1907. 
 
 " I got your dear letter of the 26th last night, of 
 all curious times. One of the vagaries, I suppose, of the 
 British Post. I am going off this afternoon to Clermont 
 to send you Mile, de VEspinasse. I am sure you will like 
 it as much as I did, though the end is inexpressibly sad, 
 quite a tragedy. The Marquis, however, ti'eats it with a 
 main de maitre, and the whole book is thoroughly delightful 
 and interesting." 
 
 RoYAT, 2Qth August 1907. 
 
 " I sent off to you yesterday Mile, de rEspinasse, which I 
 hope will reach you safely, and that you will enjoy it as 
 much as I did. I have now got a second book of his, Le 
 Royaume de la Rue St. Honore, which is quite as interesting 
 in its way as the other. It would really be more instructive 
 to read it first, because it deals with just a single salon, that 
 of Mme. Geoffrin, and explains the arrangement of it, what 
 the habitues did, how conversation was kept in order, etc., 
 etc. So it is really a far more valuable work (historically) 
 for those who take an interest in the literary history of 
 France than the other, though the supreme human interest 
 oi Mile, de T Espinasse is wanting. Mme. Geoffrin was a 
 jolly old soul, very rich and very good-natured, who gave 
 good dinners (twice a week), and filled her salon with all 
 manner of well-known and amusing people. But she was 
 never in love in her life, and did not probably know what 
 it meant, except that she had seen its disastrous effects on 
 other people, her friends." 
 
 ^ Bgerton Brandt^ his doctor at Royat.
 
 196 y. as ^gistrary 
 
 Hotel Continental, 
 
 Royat-les-Bains, P.D.D., 
 
 Qrd September 1907. 
 
 " I am much amused at your account of our dear grand- 
 child,^ and her reluctance to go away. I wonder why 
 babies are so fond of digging. What ancestral chord does 
 it touch ? I have seen our baby try to dig a hole in the 
 gravel with a trowel. It seems certain that our remotest 
 ancestors were arboreal ; but I suppose they knew how to 
 grub in the earth for roots. 
 
 " Now about yesterday. 
 
 "The Chateau Barante stands on a gentle eminence, 
 charmingly wooded, with a fine view of the Puy de Dome 
 across the plain of La Limagne. Round the house is a 
 park, so called, rather rough, and no garden to speak of, 
 only a few formal beds, all ablaze with scarlet geraniums, 
 which look well against the green trees as a foreground. 
 
 " The Chateau is said to be 300 years old, and perhaps 
 parts of the walls may be, but it has been remanie so 
 completely that it does not proclaim its antiquity. The 
 whole ground floor is devoted to reception rooms. You 
 enter a large stone hall, tout nu, no carpets, no chairs, only 
 four busts on pedestals — Voltaire, Mme. de Stael, and two 
 ancestors — and on the walls a few portraits. Then you pass 
 left through a smaller room, which has some fine old 
 cabinets and some priceless oriental china, into the draw- 
 ing-room, which (divided into two of unequal size), 
 occupies the whole of the east side of the Chateau. This 
 room is really lovely. You'd have had a fit over it — white, 
 with yellow curtains and yellow furniture, except a few 
 chairs, of white wood, et brocUes par mon arriere grand- 
 mere, said Mile, de Barante. They found them in a 
 lumber room. The whole room is Empire, in honour of a 
 lady in Empire dress, who hangs over one of the fire-places. 
 Furniture is again conspicuous by its absence. From this 
 room you pass into the library, which occupies the whole 
 south front of the Chateau, and evidently is used as a 
 sitting room ; for, as the day went on, the ladies all drifted 
 into one of the rooms into which it is divided, and settled 
 into some arm-chairs near the window, to enjoy the view. 
 
 * Edward's eldest daughter, Valentine, boru 1906.
 
 Chateau ^arante 197 
 
 The books are so numerous that there is a gallery round 
 the rooms, or rather round two of them, and there 
 may well be 30,000 volumes or even more. The west 
 wing contains the dining-room, which is not specially 
 large. I suppose this part of" the house contains also the 
 offices, and it certainly contains the staircase leading to 
 the upper floors. 
 
 "After dejeuner I was taken into the library, where for 
 hours I had M. le Baron to myself; and it was a great 
 pleasure to me to talk the native language as hard as 
 I could go on my favourite subject, with so very sympa- 
 thetic a listener. I can"'t say that I got any very special 
 information about La Chaise Dieu, but I am sure I did 
 get some about other things, and it is delightful to have 
 made the acquaintance of such a charming person. He is 
 anglomane jusqiiau bout des ongks, and I believe can 
 speak English if he chooses. The family consists of Mme. 
 la Baronne, her mother, the daughter, at whose feet I am, 
 a young English lady who is a sort of companion and 
 secretary, and is evidently expected to know where every- 
 thing is. I took a gieat fancy to Madame. She is 
 thoroughly friendly and pleasant. I suspect that she was 
 a great heiress, and has replenished the family coffers, 
 for when I admired two magnificent potiches of la famille 
 rosc^ and asked if they were not porcelaines de famille , the 
 Baron said no, they were a present from his father-in-law 
 at the christening of one of the children. He added 
 they were worth 40,000 francs then. It occurred to me 
 that a man must be fairly well off who could afford to 
 lock up c£'1600 in two vases to give away. . . . 
 
 " I forgot to mention that there is also a great collec- 
 tion of letters in the house, a perfect series of family 
 archives, all classified in perfect order. I was shown some 
 written by Mme de Stael, Talleyrand, Talma the actor, 
 Lord Brougham, Lady Holland, and many others, of all 
 countries."" 
 
 The end of the year showed Mrs. J. very much of an invalid, 
 constantly confined to her room, whilst J., with occasional 
 entries in his diary of " very unwell," " severe headache,"""* was 
 almost as active as ever. 
 
 J. visited Royat again in 1908. He was accompanied by
 
 198 y. as ^I^egistrary 
 
 Cosmo Gordon, and later Lionel Cust joined them. On their 
 homeward journey they visited Moulins, where they were very 
 anxious to see the celebrated picture by the Maitre de Moulins 
 which was hanging in the sacristy of the cathedral. No official 
 was to be found, and they would never have seen the picture 
 had not J. boldly approached a confessional box, pushed aside 
 the curtain, and spoken these words to the priest inside, 
 " Oserai-je vous addresser, Monsieur, au milieu de vos devoirs ? " 
 — after which he very politely asked to be shown the picture. 
 The priest was undoubtedly surprised, but he came out and 
 showed them the picture; and was perhaps not sorry for the 
 interruption. 
 
 Here are a few extracts from the last letters J. wrote to 
 his wife : — 
 
 Hotel Continental, 
 Royat-les-Bains, P.D.D., 
 
 2Zrd July 1908. 
 
 "... I am about to send you sous, hande^ Le Livre de 
 mon Ami, by Anatole France. I cannot let vou wait to 
 read anything so delightful till my return. To think that 
 I have had it on my shelves for more than a year without 
 so much as opening it ! Cosmo read it first, and insisted 
 on my taking it up at once. It is a real masterpiece — all 
 about child and boy life. I can only hope that you will 
 laugh over it as immoderately as I have done, and then in 
 places it is quite pathetic," 
 
 Hotel Continental, 
 
 Royat-les-Bains, P.D.D., 
 
 80th July 1908. 
 
 "... Has my d;u-ling Dorothy been behaving prettily 
 on the old pergola .? and is she over .'' I am glad to hear 
 about the Ceanothus. I am afraid the Buddleia (which I got 
 after seeing one at Newstead) does not mean to flower this 
 year. 
 
 "... I am more disgusted than words can express about 
 the rubbish called ' The Marathon Race.' What are we 
 coming to .'* . . . I hope you were well enough to read 
 Ilosebery's speech about Old Age Pensions. Thafs
 
 3\dou/ins 199 
 
 another piece of reckless folly. If I may compare great 
 things with small, it is, like my domestic difficulties over 
 large structural changes -"^ all coming one on top of the 
 other without a thought of how the finance of them is 
 to be met. I don't believe Asquith knows any better than 
 I do how he is going to meet these new charges." 
 
 MouLiNS, I'Uh August 1908. 
 
 " The Church ^ is a really wonderful thing. It is the sole 
 remains of a great Cluniac Monastery, and, all things con- 
 sidered, has not suffered much at the hands of the revolu- 
 tionary people. It is full of curious things — a great 
 Gothic reliquary — stone screens separating off certain 
 chapels — and some fine fragments of stained glass. Near 
 it are a few fi'ag-ments of the conventual buildina:s — a few 
 arches of the cloister and so forth. Having explored this 
 we came on to Moulins — a picturesque town a la franqaise^ 
 full of bustle and movement, especially to-day, which is the 
 eve of the Assumption of Our Lady. The French may 
 abolish religion and public worship, but they won't prevent 
 the people from observing this popular festival. . . . There 
 is a cathedral here, but not of the best type, and it has been 
 practically rebuilt, but it contains a good deal of old glass, 
 and a very fine old painting of the early French School, 
 which I think I remember at the Exhibition at Paris. It 
 was given by one of the Dukes of Bourbon, this being 
 their capital, and is in excellent condition. 
 
 " Also we managed by a great stroke of luck to get into 
 the Library, and see the Bible of Souvigny — an illuminated 
 MS. of the Vulgate written and painted a.d. 1105. 
 Lionel and Cosmo were delighted : and even I, who don't 
 specially study miniatures, discreetly admired." 
 
 AuxERRK, Y'oth August 1908. 
 
 " . . .It has happened unluckily that whereas I have been 
 pluming myself on missing the Bank Holiday in England, 
 I have fallen on L'Assomption, which, preceding Sunday, 
 makes two general holidays together, something danger- 
 ously like our horror. Further, matters are complicated 
 here by a Concours Agricole ! Cosmo and I are sent out 
 
 ' The alterations at Scroope House. 
 ^ Souvigny.
 
 200 y' ^^ T^egistrary 
 
 to a dependance, Lionel alone being allowed a room in the 
 hotel. Luckily I discovered (or imagined) that I had 
 stayed at the same hotel with Shipley in 1893 or 1894. 
 I really think what I said was true, and I posed as ancien 
 client de la maison, which ended our difficulties." 
 
 On J.'s return he found his wife weak and ailing, only 
 kept alive by her interest in others, always bearing her constant 
 illnesses and her continuous discomforts as those who belong 
 to a great race do bear them. On the 13th of December 1908 
 Mrs. J. died. I do not think I could pay a more adequate 
 testimony to my dear friend than to quote what appeared in 
 the Times the following day : — 
 
 " Many a Cambridge man all over the world, when he 
 reads of the death of Mrs. J. W. Clark, early yesterday 
 morning, will feel that a life has ended which had a deep and 
 a wholly good influence on his own character during his 
 impressionable undergraduate days. Cambridge will, to all 
 who knew her, seem in future a poorer, an emptier place. 
 
 '"Mrs. J.,' as her friends always called her, had a genius 
 for friendship and a social tact which made even the shyest of 
 Freshmen feel at home under the hospitable roof of Scroope 
 House. Gifted with a high power for organisation, she initiated 
 and helped forward many of the numerous projects which play 
 a considerable part in the life of a University town. Among 
 these, the triennial Greek Plays and the performances at the 
 A.D.C. were conspicuous ; but hers was a many-sided activity. 
 For years she gave freely of her time and counsel to help the 
 poorer inhabitants of the town. Especially did she devote 
 herself to the attempt to improve the conditions of life for 
 the 'bedmakers' and ' helps,' and Mrs. J.'s ' Barnwell Mothers, 
 well known to her friends, repaid her kindness with genuine 
 gratitude. Also she took a warm interest in the Girls' 
 Friendly Society, and district nursing in Cambridge owes more 
 than one can say to her energy and devotion. She was a 
 sincere Churchwoman, and cared deeply for the welfare of 
 the Established Church.
 
 3ilrs, y.'s Death 20 1 
 
 " Mrs. Clark suffered from a severe illness for many months, 
 borne with unflinching courage and with indomitable patience. 
 Well or ill, her first thought and constant care was for others. 
 Cambridge has, indeed, lost in her a most lovable woman and 
 a lady of a very noble character." 
 
 J. was never the same afterwards, but he would not ac- 
 knowledge it ; he went on as ever ' doing the next thing.' A 
 few hours after her death I went to see him, and found him 
 very calm, working in his study on some archaeological article, 
 but though to the outer world he remained unmoved, some- 
 thing had snapped ; in a way he had lost his bearings, and 
 though he struggled on he was never what he had been. 
 
 In 1909 he paid his Easter visit to Paris, accompanied by 
 Mr. Geoffrey Tatham, but this time we have but few letters. 
 The travellers went on to Milan, Florence, Siena, Bologna, and 
 Venice ; here J. worked as usual in the Marciana, and here he 
 saw much of his friend Horatio Brown. On his return he 
 stayed a few days in Paris, and was back in Cambridge on 
 6th May. 
 
 During this visit he spent some time with the Wilsons at 
 Certaldo, and Sir Harry has been good enough to contribute 
 the following account of the visit : — 
 
 "My wife and I had spent the winter of 1908 in 
 Rome (where J.'s introductions to some of his particular 
 friends had added greatly to our enjoyment), and in order 
 to see something of country life in Northern Italy, we 
 had in the following spring taken, on a six weeks' tenancy, 
 the old Casteilo at Certaldo, between Empoli and Siena. 
 
 "To this abode came J., who was travelling in Italy 
 with his friend Mr. Geoffrey Tatham (now Junior Bursar 
 of Trinity), to pass a week with us on their way to Venice. 
 A happy week it was to us, and as we are glad to know, 
 to J. and his companion also. To begin with, the 
 weather, which had been cold and squally on our first 
 arrival, grew suddenly warm and still ; the whole country- 
 side was gay with blossom ; the valleys of Tuscany laughed 
 and sang for very joy of the spring. J., to whom (as to 
 ourselves) the experience of inhabiting an Italian ' casteilo '
 
 202 y. as T{egistrary 
 
 was a novelty, entei-ed into everything with the zest of a 
 schoolboy. Indeed, he made some of us feel quite elderly 
 with his vivacity and his enthusiasm. He clambered glee- 
 fully about the hills and gathered flowers, while we sate 
 and sketched; he drove with us for miles through the 
 quiet country roads in our modest 'legno'; I am not sure 
 that he didn't do a little birds'* nesting on his own ac- 
 count, while I was busy with my butterfly-net. As was 
 always the case, he was adored by the servants, who were 
 entranced by his genial manner and his whimsical sayings ; 
 and Alberto, our handsome Bolognese, was his devoted 
 slave. 
 
 " Almost all his tastes, artistic, antiquarian and scien- 
 tific, were catered for at Certaldo. A stone's throw from 
 our door stood the gloomy old house, with its squat brick 
 tower, where Boccaccio was born and where he died. This 
 interested him greatly, as did the church of SS. Michele 
 and Jacopo, where the cenotaph of the author of the 
 Decameron is still to be seen, and the bust erected by 
 the Vicario Lattanzio Tedaldi in 1503. Then there was 
 the Palazzo Pretorio or Vicariale, formerly the stronghold 
 of the Alberti, and afterwards the official residence of the 
 deputy of the Florentine Republic, rich in armorial 
 plaques of Delia Robbia ware, and in frescoes by Pier 
 Francesco and other Tuscan painters, with its muniment- 
 room full of well-tended archives, among which J. browsed 
 contentedly. A large atlas of early maps, which had been 
 offered to us by the proprietor of the local wineshop, and 
 which we ultimately purchased, was also much enjoyed by 
 him. Its contents corresponded closely with certain items 
 in a catalogue of Lafreri's prints, published in a recent 
 monograph by Father Ehrle, the Librarian of the Vatican. 
 Sitting under the big blossoming pear tree in our court- 
 yard, J. collated them with that minute accuracy which 
 distinguished all his work. Another day, when strolling, 
 after a drive with my wafc, in the neighbourhood of the 
 town, he came upon one of the curious deposits of marine 
 fossil shells, which are a striking feature of the geology of 
 the district, and set to with his pocket-knife to dig them 
 out, nor did he rest till he had made us all join in the 
 sport, to see who could disinter the largest bivalve ! 
 
 " One golden morning we drove over to San Gimig- 
 nano and lunched at the little albergo of that most attrac-
 
 Certaldo 203 
 
 tive town. I shall never foro-et J/s deliffht at the frescoes 
 of Benozzo Gozzoli in the Church of Sanf Agostino, and 
 the curious learning, 'worn lightly, like a flower,'' which 
 he displayed of the obscure feuds of the Ardinghelli and 
 Salvucci. Siena he visited alone with Mr. Tatham, and 
 came back in raptures with the well-remembered glories of 
 its Duomo which he had not seen for many years. 
 
 "It all ended too soon, as is the way with the pleasant 
 things of life, and the day arrived when we had to bid him 
 and his friend God-speed ; but the old affection had been 
 revived and strengthened, and we felt that we had seen 
 J. at his verv best. It was ffood to learn from a letter he 
 wrote shortly afterwards to my wife, which she will always 
 treasure, that his sojourn with us upon our hill-top had 
 been as agreeable to him as it had certainly been to 
 ourselves." 
 
 J. had recently resigned the post of Auditor at Trinity 
 College, a post which he had held for twenty-seven years, and 
 which he valued because it gave him an official connection 
 with the College to which he had always been warmly attached. 
 On his retirement the College presented him with a silver 
 epergne, of which he was very proud. The following letter 
 refers to the presentation : — 
 
 \lth May 1909. 
 
 " This is not a letter — only a line to tell you that on 
 Sunday, 23rd May, I am to dine in Hall, and the Master 
 is to say something (I hope not nmch) about me in the 
 Combination Room afterwards. I do hope that you will 
 be able to be present. 
 
 " I am deeply touched by the kindness of everybody 
 in this matter, and especially Capstick and Innes. They 
 intend giving me a special present of their own, in 
 addition to the piece of plate, to mark their sense of 
 what they are pleased to call ' my uniform kindness to 
 them.' To-day, when I regretted to Capstick that he 
 had had so much trouble over finding a day when all 
 persons could be present, he replied, ' You are quite worth 
 it.' All this is vastly gratifying to me in my old age. 
 I shall write to you again shortly."
 
 2 04 y^ ^^ ^I{egist7^a?y 
 
 On 19th June J. was presented by his friends with a series 
 of essays and articles entitled Fasciculus loanni Willis Clark 
 Dicatus. This book, got together somewhat in the form of the 
 Festschrift common in foreign Universities, was intended as a 
 tribute from many friends of their appreciation of J/s kindness, 
 and of the tireless way he had worked for the University. 
 The last time I saw Mrs. J., perhaps giving away a secret, I 
 told her that such a volume was in active preparation. The 
 knowledge of this gave her deep pleasure. 
 
 Throughout the first half of 1909 J. was engaged as 
 Joint-Secretary with Professor Seward in making the arrange- 
 ments for the celebration of the centenary of the birth of 
 Charles Darwin. This was held on 22nd, 23rd, and 24th June. 
 The first of these days was that of General Admission, and he 
 records at the two-o'clock Congregation "the Wooden Spoon 
 made what we hope is its last appearance,*" this being the last 
 year in which the order of merit was retained in the Mathe- 
 matical Tripos. For the Darwin celebrations J. put up Pro- 
 fessor E. Perrier of Paris, Lord Esher, Alfred Lyttelton, and the 
 Rev. J. H. Ellis. ^ The part that he had taken in the rather 
 elaborate arrangements was warmly appreciated by the Vice- 
 Chancellor, who wrote as follows : — 
 
 The Precincts, Canterbury, 
 1*^ July 1909. 
 
 " My dear J., — I really do think that mutual con- 
 gratulations all round are quite in place. I thank you 
 heartily, dear kind friend, for what you say about my 
 poor part in the proceedings ; but it is to you and Seward 
 that everything is due. Nothing could have been more 
 perfect than your arrangments for the great scenic effects, 
 which will last for life in the memory of all who were 
 present. You know too well for me to tell you what I 
 feel about your personal kindness to myself in it all. 
 
 " On every side — fiom the Chancellor, from foreign dele- 
 gates, from all sorts of people — I hear the same thing said. 
 Ever your affectionate A. J. Mason."" 
 
 ^ Recently a most generous benefactor to the University. 
 
 ii
 
 ^I^oyat 
 
 205 
 
 Immediately the ceremonies were over J. left for Windsor, 
 on his annual visit to his friends Mr. and Mrs. laonel Cust; 
 on his return he was busy writing the Introduction to Mr. H. 
 Fletcher's Oxford and Cambridge Delineated. 
 
 This summer J. made his usual " cure " at Royat, and was 
 back in Cambridge by 21st August. The following two letters 
 were written whilst he was away : — 
 
 31*^ July 1909. 
 
 " I got here on Thursday ^ afternoon after a pleasant 
 journey in an empty train. The place is said to be full — 
 certainly the hotel is — and I have ingeniously utilised the 
 said fullness to get my pension cut down to 10 francs a 
 day on the ground that my room is wholly insufficient. 
 It is a bit gloomy, and lacks view. I see only the back 
 of another wing of the hotel, two acacias in the garden, 
 and a pot of hydrangeas on the steps leading to the 
 kitchen. 
 
 " My doctor tells me — what I could have told him — that 
 there is nothing the matter with me, and he adds that 
 perhaps I may be let oft* with fourteen baths. . . . 
 
 " I wonder if you care for the Ancien Regime? If you 
 do, read the Sotcvenirs du Baron de FreniUy (1768-1828) — 
 Paris : Plon, 1909. I have at last found a book in which a 
 gentleman describes the ancien regime, its gradual trans- 
 formation, and final destruction. It is beautifully written, 
 with a good deal of humour." 
 
 \1th August 1909. 
 
 " Oh ! these letters, these letters ! Like you, I put off 
 the pleasant ones till I can do them quietly, and that 
 moment has now arrived. I have a clear half hour before 
 me before I start on an expedition which I have evolved 
 from the depths of my own consciousness, and am there- 
 fore looking forward muchly to it. 
 
 " I am glad that you are so happy at Cambridge. I am 
 afraid that I do not care for the Lona; Vacation. It has 
 entirely changed from the peace and quiet of old days, 
 which we in our thoughtlessness called dull, and become a 
 string of interruptions of tiresome people. I try to say to 
 
 » 29th July.
 
 2o6 y. as ^{egistrary 
 
 them, ' Very sorry, I can''t see you. I am busy ^ — but 
 ' uno avulso non deficit alter.' Now I am beins; worried 
 by a man who thinks I can write a chapter of remini- 
 scences of Alfred Newton currente calamo. Idiot ! He 
 has written to me here ! 
 
 "... I remember Woodham (of Jesus) used to say to 
 people who were going away, ' What do you want to go 
 away for? You'll never see anything so good as King''s 
 Lawn.' Perhaps not; but I should like to drive a broad 
 gravel path right across it, move the bridge back to where 
 the Founder put it, and replant the avenue. In addition 
 to that, I should build a new Lodge on the west bank of 
 the stream, well out of sight on the south side, pull the 
 old one down, and build a good range of chambers on its 
 site. Voila ! 
 
 " I wonder, with all your experience of men and things, 
 you should care a d — n what reviewers say. They must 
 say something. They are always saying unpleasant things 
 about me, for instance, but I pay no attention. Macaulay 
 never answered a criticism, and so many of the worst 
 blunders and misrepresentations in his History pass un- 
 noticed. 
 
 " The first of the two hon-mots you send me is one of old 
 Professor Miller, who said some sixty years since, ' If we 
 could get rid of the Undergraduates and the Town, 
 Cambridge would be a pleasant place to live in.'" 
 
 J. was much interested this year in writing his Remini- 
 scences of Cambridge (quoted earlier), which form the most 
 valuable part of this book. He took extraordinary pains to 
 be accurate, and would often carry the parts as he wrote 
 them to some old friend for criticism and correction. 
 
 The following letter written at the close of this year is 
 typical of many such. J. had a genius for friendship, and those 
 to whom Scroope House had been a second — sometimes the only 
 — home never forgot him or Mrs. J. : — 
 
 'it)" 
 
 65 Pont Stheet, S.W., 
 
 mth November 1909. 
 
 " My dear old J. W., — Nothing could have given me 
 greater pleasure than your letter. It recalled all sorts of
 
 His Last Illness 207 
 
 old and delightful memories and the days when you and 
 your dear wife were kindness itself to me: and 'Lucinda' 
 too — how well I remember it all ! You have always been 
 a prince of friends to all of us, and it is delightful 
 to me that you should have remembered me just on 
 this particular occasion when life has suddenly taken 
 on such roseate hues for me. Indeed I cannot think 
 of anybody that I have ever known who has a greater 
 gift than is yours for friendship and sympathy: it 
 gives me a warm feeling to remember you and write to 
 you. 
 
 " I think one of your own books would be a delightful 
 present. I can think of nothing nicer : and your sugges- 
 tion of the one upon the ' Care of Books ' could not be 
 bettered. Thank you so much — so very much. As to 
 returning to S. Africa, I have got until the end of 
 January in England, and 1 should so very much like to 
 come to Cambridge and pay you a visit: some time in 
 January would suit me admirably, I think, and, if I may, 
 I think I will write to you later on and suggest a date or 
 dates to you. May I do that? I do think you will like 
 Miss P. — I don't think you could help doing that. I have 
 been most incredibly lucky, and I feel very humble about 
 it tho' also rather gloriously happy. Thank you again 
 for your letter and your friendship, dear old J. — Your 
 affectionate A. E. B. 
 
 11 
 
 J. seemed to be exceptionally well in the early autumn of 
 1909. Unfortunately he caught a chill while attending a Greek 
 Play rehearsal at the end of November, and this was the real 
 beginning of his last illness. He recovered sufficiently to be able to 
 pay a visit (accompanied by Mrs, Edward Clark) to his old friend 
 Dr. Douty at Stratford-on-Avon, and it was while staying with 
 him that it first became apparent how ill he really was. He now 
 almost ceased to keep his diary ; the last entry but one — " Not 
 well. Did not leave the premises'" — is typical of the few entries 
 he made. The last entry I have found was on 17th December, 
 "J. went to bed."^ This was the beginning of a long and 
 
 ^ This is in Mrs, Edward Clark's handwriting.
 
 2o8 y^ ^^ ^I{egist7^ary 
 
 trying illness, with many fluctuations between hope and fear. 
 At times he would rail}' in a wonderful way, leading those who 
 watched him with devoted care (Edward and his wife never left 
 him) to think that life and a certain amount of work might yet 
 be possible for him. But these bright intervals grew less frequent 
 and his mind often wandered. Probably a somewhat profound 
 remark made to Willy by a member of the present Cabinet was 
 literally true. Discussing Mrs. J.''s death at the time, Willy 
 remarked how wonderful it was that his father's interest 
 in life and his power of work seemed so little affected by it, 
 devoted as he had been to her. " That mav be," was the 
 reply, " but don''t count on it : we all thought the same when 
 Campbell-Bannerman lost his wife, but it killed him." In the 
 spring of 1910, however, he was sufficiently recovered to be 
 able to travel to Ventnor, where he took a furnished house. 
 During his stay there he improved slowly, and, when King 
 Edward died, had recovered sufficiently to write to the Vice- 
 Chancellor as to the ceremonial to be observed at the pro- 
 clamation of King George. He felt very keenly not being able 
 to return to Cambridge in time to take his part in the cere- 
 mony as he had done ten years before, when as Registrary he 
 proclaimed King Edward from the steps of the Senate House. 
 He returned to Cambridge on 12th May. 
 
 In June he writes to Sir Harry Wilson as follows : — 
 
 iScROOPE House, Cambridge, 
 \Uh June 1910. 
 
 " Dear Harry, — Thanks for your affectionate letter. 
 I think I can give a good account of myself on the whole, 
 and my friends vow that I look as well as I did, or better 
 than I did, before I was taken ill in December. But six 
 months is a big slice to be taken out of one"'s life ; and 
 I doubt very much about the future. There are lots of 
 things I can't do for myself — e.^. I have still to be carried 
 upstairs, and I get very easily tired. However, next 
 month I am to begin my work at the Registry again — or 
 try to do so. 
 
 "Now we are in a state of anxiety about this Indian
 
 Resignation and Death 209 
 
 business. 1 / don't much believe in it — but am told I am 
 all wrong — in a minority of one as usual. — Ever your 
 affectionate J. W. Clark." 
 
 During June and July he was wonderfully better, and was 
 able on 30th July to go and stay for a few days with his 
 old friend Mr. Marlborough Pry or. He hoped against hope 
 to be strong enough to resume work at the Registry, but in 
 August he began to go down-hill again, and in September 
 he resigned his office in the following letter addressed to the 
 Vice-Chancellor : — 
 
 ScROOPE House, Cambridge, 
 \hth September 1910. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Vice-Chancellor, — When I fell ill in 
 December last, I was led to hope that my unusually 
 strong constitution, coupled with medical skill, would 
 lead me to recovery. I regret, however, to be obliged 
 to admit that I cannot now expect complete restoration 
 to health. And though I trust that I shall be able for 
 some time longer to continue my private work in the 
 interests of the University, I feel that the honourable 
 course is for me to place in your hands my resignation of 
 the Office of Registrary. I should be glad, therefore, if 
 you would cause the Members of the Senate to be in- 
 formed that the office will be vacant on October 1st. — 
 I am, dear Mr. Vice-Chancellor, Your obedient Servant, 
 
 " J. W. Clark." 
 
 The Jubilee Meeting of the Church Congress was held in 
 Cambridge at the end of September, and J. was a Member of 
 the General Committee. He had asked Lord Halifax to stay 
 with him at Scroope House for the Congress, and had sent 
 several things to the Loan Collection. Although he was now 
 very ill he would not allow any of the arrangements to be 
 altered, and his great anxiety was lest his illness should incon- 
 venience his guests in any way. Fortunately just at this time 
 he rallied slightly, but it was only a flash in the pan, and on 
 the afternoon of 10th October 1910 he died. 
 
 ^ The offer to Willy of a seat on the Council of the Viceroy. 
 
 o
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 J. AS I KNEW HIM 
 
 Having now come to the end of my chronological survey of J.'s 
 life, I want to try to draw a picture of him as he presents 
 himself to me when I look back over the thirty years of our 
 friendship. To this I have added reminiscences of J. by his friends 
 Mr. Lionel Cust, Mr. A. C. Benson, and Mr. W. H. Pollock, who 
 write of different aspects of his many-sided activities. 
 
 The first time I met J. was about the middle of the Michael- 
 mas term, in my second year, 1881. At that time I was attend- 
 ing Michael Foster's lectures, then perhaps at their best, and 
 at their best they were unsurpassed. Whether it was because 
 J. was Secretary of the Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate, 
 or whether it was because he was a close friend of Foster's, 
 he used to collect the Physiological Laboratory fees. This was 
 an act of pure kindness on his part, yet we undergraduates 
 all firmly believed that he used to have the odd shillings 
 out of the guineas as his commission ! One day between 
 noon and one I knocked at the door of his room, on the 
 ground floor facing south which was then used as the Syndicate 
 
 C^ CD ^ 
 
 Kooms, and, entering, faced an extremely well-dressed under- 
 graduate who was just being told by J. in no uncertain voice 
 that he didn't care a damn whether he came from Magdalene 
 or whether he came from Hell, but that he would have to pay 
 one pound eleven shillings and sixpence before he passed that 
 door. The undergraduate paid and passed the door. I was 
 very frightened. And then with that sudden change which 
 all who knew him must have seen repeatedly, his temper in 
 a moment melted away. He asked me all about myself, and 
 bv the time my fees were paid and very precisely entered 
 
 210
 
 Scroope House 2 1 1 
 
 in a book, I had been invited to visit him " any Sunday evening 
 after dinner, and mind you come some Sunday soon." 
 
 Greatly daring, a week or two later I called, between nine 
 and ten, one Sunday evening in November, at No. 1 Scroope 
 Terrace. The parlour-maid said Mr. Clark was dining at 
 Scroope House, and led me through a slip of a garden, through 
 a door now walled up, through a lot of tall shrubs, to the door 
 of a great house brilliantly lighted, and in a minute I was 
 ushered into a stately dining-room full of guests just finishing 
 their dessert, not one of whom I knew. I was the only one 
 without a " wedding garment " and again I was frightened, 
 and again I was made happy and at ease by the kindly tact of 
 our host and by the genuine friendliness and interest that 
 Mrs. J. showed in me from the first moment I met her. That 
 Sunday evening I found a second home, a home in Cambridge, 
 where for thirty years I could and did turn for help and 
 infallibly receive it. 
 
 J. was fond of entertaining his friends, and during the 
 greater part of his married life kept almost open house, but 
 he never cared for large formal dinner parties — " droves " as 
 he called them. He liked a good dinner, though he had 
 strong views as to food, and could not abide what he called 
 "the charred limb of a ruminant," but he considered that 
 good food took a very second place to good wine. He kept 
 an excellent cellar, and when he entertained anyone whom he 
 considered worthy of his best claret, great were the prepara- 
 tions made beforehand. The wine was got up in good time 
 and stood on the chimney-piece or near to the fire to be 
 warmed, and was carefully decanted just before dinner. Some- 
 times it was found to be over-heated, and then there was much 
 tribulation. On one occasion, when a great connoisseur was 
 staying at Scroope House, this accident occurred, and J. was 
 so distressed that he implored his guest to superintend the 
 warming operation himself on the following night. He was 
 somewhat consoled and his guest considerably disconcerted to 
 find, when the wine was decanted, that it had been over-heated
 
 212 
 
 7- 
 
 as 
 
 I k 
 
 new 
 
 Hi 
 
 i?n 
 
 again ! That he rarely smoked was possibly due to the fact 
 
 that tobacco and claret will not go together ; and, though 
 
 he provided tobacco for his friends, woe betide anyone who 
 
 began to smoke before the bottle was finished. " Finishing 
 
 the bottle" was a point on which J. was very firm. When 
 
 the decanter had circulated for the last time, he would (if 
 
 there was still some wine in it) rise from his chair and walk 
 
 round the table pouring wine into his guests' glasses until he 
 
 had emptied it. He had specially tall, funnel-shaped glasses 
 
 for the after-dinner claret, and he never allowed them to be 
 
 filled more than three parts full, lest the bouquet of the claret 
 
 should be lost. He sometimes, however, broke his own rule 
 
 by filling a friend's glass to the brim, in his anxiety to see him 
 
 " finish the bottle." 
 
 J. and his particular friends used from time to time to dine 
 
 together at what they called " Harmonies in Bordeaux," when 
 
 no wine except that grown in the Bordeaux district was drunk. 
 
 The late Mr. Henry Bradshaw, Mr. Gerald Balfour, Mr. Alfred 
 
 Cole, Mr. George Prothero, and Mr. (now Professor) Langley 
 
 were usually among J.'s guests on these occasions. One of 
 
 the " harmonies " has fortunately been preserved, and is here 
 
 given : — 
 
 Fourceaud .... 1858 
 
 Haut-Brion 
 Listrac 
 Leoville . 
 St. Pierre . 
 
 Barton Leoville 
 
 1874 
 1865 
 1870 
 1874 
 
 1864 
 
 \Uh August 188.5. 
 
 It would be a mistake, however, to suppose that J. was 
 anything but always abstemious both in what he ate and what 
 he drank. He drank wine because he liked it; but, when in 
 the early nineties he thought it had (to use his own words) 
 ceased to like him, he at once gave it up of his own accord
 
 His D?^ess 213 
 
 and rather against the wishes of his doctors. Subsequently, 
 though he had throughout his life a horror of excess, 
 he was always careful to explain that this abstention from 
 wine was due to no teetotal principles, and that he was as 
 anxious to entertain his friends and watch them enjoy his 
 claret as he had been in what he used whimsically to call his 
 " drinking days." 
 
 J. was absolutely unmusical, and it was literally true of him 
 that he was only conscious of the National Anthem being 
 played by seeing the people stand up. He would remark 
 when questioned on the subject that he did not mind music 
 more than any other noise. Yet he sat with pleasure through 
 Wagner's Ring, and at one time used to go regularly to the 
 Handel Festival. His dramatic instincts on these occasions 
 made up for his lack of musical sense. It was no doubt on 
 this account that in 1890 he was asked to join the Committee 
 which organised a performance of Gluck's Orpheus in the 
 Cambridge Theatre. It is said that he was recommended by 
 Professor (now Sir C. V.) Stanford in these words — "You'll 
 see how J. will mount Hell ! " 
 
 In his dress J. combined a certain measure of the fashions 
 of an older generation with an unconventionality all his own, 
 and it was characteristic of his strenuous nature that he always 
 dressed at top-speed. I do not suppose he ever took more 
 than a quarter of an hour in getting up in the morning. 
 He wore as a workaday costume a double-breasted morning- 
 coat, with waistcoat and trousers to match of some dark, 
 usually heather-coloured tweed, but no one ever saw the 
 coat buttoned. He also wore elastic-sided boots — in my 
 time rapidly becoming extinct — and as a rule a shocking bad 
 hat of the bowler type. He had a surprisingly springy gait, 
 lifting himself on his toes at each step, a way of walking 
 which was perhaps equalled but not surpassed in springiness 
 by Mr. Gladstone. 
 
 On the other hand, he was adamant on the subject of 
 evening dress. Even when spending the night at some remote
 
 2 14 y. as I knew Him 
 
 French country inn, hardly ever to my knowledge — and I 
 have travelled much in France with him — did he appear at 
 dinner without changing into evening dress. At University 
 functions, clothed in a flowing silk gown, with his picturesque 
 white hair and beard, both worn rather long, he was indeed 
 a noticeable figure, and I trust that I shall hurt no one's feel- 
 ings when I use a phrase he would himself have enjoyed, and 
 say " that he played most of them off the stage." 
 
 His unconventionality was part of his energy, part of his 
 wish to have something done and go on to do something else. 
 Yet it was only in the last years of his life that he could bring 
 himself to dictate to a shorthand clerk, and he never would 
 tolerate a typewriter. I have already referred to his kindness 
 in carrying with his own hands soup or other helps to appetite 
 to those who were sick. If he wanted anything carried the 
 way he was going, it seemed to him that the best and quickest 
 way was to carry it himself. I once met him about mid- 
 day walking along the King's Parade carrying a large 
 chandelier hung about and sparkling with cut-glass prisms. 
 It must have been rather a feat of strength, but to him at 
 least the proceeding did not seem unusual. If he wanted a 
 thing done he did it, and as Registrary he would take off 
 his coat and tack up a placard or straighten a carpet in a 
 way which would I fear have shocked his predecessors in that 
 office. But with all this he had a great respect for the posi- 
 tion he held. He resented and opposed any suggested changes 
 in the status of the Registrary, and rebuked, in a way that 
 left a doleful echo in the ear of the offender, any student 
 who entered the Registry incorrectly attired, or who in any 
 other way showed an inadequate appreciation of University 
 etiquette. 
 
 As Secretary to the Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndi- 
 cate he took his work at the Museums, as he took all work for 
 the University, very seriously. He systematised the methods 
 of keeping the accounts, then much more voluminous than 
 now, and he kept all the books in his own handwriting. It was
 
 His Kindness 215 
 
 only in the comparatively late days of his life that he began 
 to employ a clerk, and I remember well one January in the 
 late eighties, when he was in bed with a severe cold — I always 
 believed it was influenza, but J. never would allow that he 
 could have influenza — his sending for the ledgers and day- 
 books, and, with a temperature when most men would wish to 
 forget the world, seeking to balance his accounts. He had 
 a marked gift for arousing the devotion of those who worked 
 for him, in spite of a somewhat unbridled tongue and of an 
 occasional outburst when he really let himself go. No servant 
 ever wished to leave his service, and those who during the last 
 few years of his life helped him to arrange his collections, copied 
 for him, etc., would have done anything for him. 
 
 His kindness and genuine care of the Museums staff was 
 paralleled by the interest he took in many of the working 
 men, the clerks and the sons of Cambridge tradesmen. He 
 had the gift of helping most who came across him and of 
 drawing out their affection. PVom many letters written to him 
 by his working-men friends I quote the following : — 
 
 Cambridge, 
 %th September 1907. 
 
 "Many thanks for your very kind letter, which needless 
 to say I was delighted to receive. I was surprised and 
 sorry to hear that you had got into such a low state 
 of health before leaving England. I hadn't dreamed of 
 your being run down to such an extent, but it is very 
 consoling to learn that the course you are now on is 
 proving beneficial, and I sincerely trust you will return 
 feeling quite your old self once again, and that the treat- 
 ment will prove a lasting benefit. 
 
 " I am afraid you will consider me rather a lazy chap 
 having not answered your letter before this, but really 
 I must ask to be excused for leaving it so long ; the 
 fact is we have been very busy indeed of late, and when 
 I have finished for the day I have felt too tired to 
 sit down and write even to you, but I meant to write 
 to-day, so have left off early to do so. See! 
 
 " It was very kind of you to enquire of my wife and
 
 2 1 6 y. as I knew Him 
 
 I am very pleased to be able to send a good account 
 of that lady ; she is getting on just fine and seems quite 
 happy about expectations, and is continually preparing 
 for the great event. Every spare moment is devoted to 
 needlework of one description or other to be placed aside 
 ready for the time when it will be required. 
 
 " Cambridge is very quiet indeed at the present time ; 
 everyone connected with the University seems to be away ; 
 but I suppose in a week or two we shall notice them 
 getting back, and then I hope to see you, and quite well 
 again."" 
 
 LOWKSTOFT, 
 
 ~th January 1906. 
 
 " I beg of you to accept photo enclosed in return for 
 the one you so kindly gave me when I came to see you. 
 I came back to Lowestoft the next day, but did not 
 start work until this week as trade is still very bad here. 
 I have been fixing a dynamo and have been unlucky 
 enough to sprain my back, but not bad, I am glad to 
 say, as I am nearly all right again now ; but it made 
 me lose time as I had to rest a bit, which I did not like 
 I can assure you, as I can always do that when I have 
 no work to do. I expect to be fairly busy next week 
 as we have some temporary lighting to do for the Election 
 Candidates here, about 200 lights outside the Conser- 
 vative Club and several arc lamps at the Liberal Club, 
 so between the two I may manage to make a full week 
 for a change. 
 
 " I am pleased to say the wife and boy are both well. 
 I should have liked you to have seen him when I was 
 down home, but he is such a weight to carry that I 
 could not manage to bring him up with me. I am think- 
 ing of taking a photograph of him, and if successful I 
 will send one on to you, and I think you will be a bit 
 surprised to see how fat he is. 1 must conclude now, 
 wishing you a happy new year."" 
 
 Of course there is the reverse. It would be idle to suggest 
 that J. had not patent faults. He was very quick-tempered 
 and even passionate — somehow or other nowadays we all 
 seem too indifferent about everything to be passionate — he
 
 His Temper 217 
 
 was also very unbridled in his denunciations. Words — I 
 might say language, as the landladies call it — sprang not 
 only to his lips but from them. He could, and did swear, 
 and at times he said very bitter things, mostly with a humorous 
 twist, sometimes at individuals, sometimes at what he called 
 " the malice of inanimate objects," but on the whole these out- 
 bursts blew over, and seldom when "things had quieted down" 
 did any rancour remain. Like most eager and intensely busy, 
 vigorous men, he was very impatient ; he could never " suffer 
 fools gladly." I am afraid if there was any suffering the fools 
 did it. We who knew him intimately loved him, but there 
 were others, and as those who know any man intimately must 
 necessarily be few in number, it remains that he was not uni- 
 versally popular. I remember hearing of a most respected 
 bookseller who, not being able to supply some work which J. 
 wanted at the moment, had to listen to " an outburst " : he 
 stood on the door-step of his shop, wringing his hands and 
 crying so loud that his voice crossed the street, " And think of 
 Mr. Romilly, sir ! "— J.'s predecessor from 1832-62. Well, from 
 whatever angle you survey J., he was unconventional. As he 
 was fond of saying himself, " Je ne suis pas comme tout le 
 monde."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 J. BY SOME OF HIS FRIENDS 
 
 Before passing- on to Mr. Cust's and Mr. Benson's contribu- 
 tions, I give the two following passages, which I have selected 
 as typical of what J.'s many friends wrote of him after his 
 death. The first is taken from an article in the Cambridge 
 
 Review : — 
 
 "The news that J. is gone will be profoundly felt, not 
 here alone, but by many a man far from Cambridge, who 
 has never read a page of the stately row of volumes which 
 bear the Registrary's name. Such men will remember 
 the brotherly kindness with which one much older than 
 themselves, high in office in the University, received them : 
 they will remember the home to which his unbounded 
 hospitality welcomed them again and again : not a few 
 will remember times of difficulty, illness, or sorrow when 
 he helped them, cared for them, and comforted them. 
 Among all else that he accomplished, this demands a 
 special recognition, that he did more than anyone to make 
 friendly intercourse between undergraduates and seniors 
 a reality. There was no angling for popularity in this : 
 he never affected the slightest interest in the athletic 
 achievements of any of his young friends, and he spoke 
 his mind with refreshing plainness when he considered 
 them in fault. His goodness to them sprang from a 
 genuine sympathy. It ranks among the happiest memories 
 in the lives of very many. . . ." 
 
 The second is part of a private letter written by an old 
 Trinity man who happened to be staying at Oxford : — 
 
 " I don"'t believe there was anybody who had a greater 
 power of arousing affection than he, and I have heard 
 and talked about him all over the world. As far as I 
 
 21S
 
 Lionel Cust 219 
 
 am concerned his death changes the whole aspect of 
 Canibridire to me. It ahnost brings it down to the level 
 of this beastly place. When one considers that one was 
 only a single unit amongst a whole milky way of people 
 passing through Cambridge for years and years whom 
 he made to feel that they were particular friends of his, 
 one realises — or perhaps hardly can — what a tremendous 
 and far-reaching effect he had. ... I write with a heavy 
 heart, for I did love that dear old man."*' 
 
 I. REMINISCENCES BY LIONEL CUST 
 
 My acquaintance with J. W. Clark did not date back before 
 my coming up to Cambridge in 1877. I had a slight know- 
 ledge of having seen him at Eton on more than one occasion, 
 but nothing more. I think that our first actual meeting was 
 on 20th November 1877, when my tutor, Mr. Prior, took me 
 to the Registry to be matriculated,^ since owing to illness I 
 had been absent from Cambridge and had missed the ordinary 
 matriculation. The introduction was of course merely formal, 
 but it lingers in my memory that the impression of J. at the 
 age of forty-five was not very different from that of thirty 
 years later. 
 
 It was not till February 1878 that I really made acquaint- 
 ance with Mr. and Mrs. J., and I think that the 3rd February 
 must have been the first evening spent under their hospitable 
 roof, then at No. 1 Scroope Terrace. We had many bridges easy 
 to cross in order to make acquaintance. My principal Eton 
 friends, my seniors, who lent me helping hands in life — L. M. 
 Powell, C. M. Newton, Edward and Alfred Lyttelton, J. E. C. 
 Welldon, and others — were all intimate friends at Scroope 
 Terrace, so that I lacked no introduction. Another powerful 
 link was the generous friendship extended to me, among so 
 many others, by Henry Bradshaw, whose word and opinion were 
 at all times like law with J. Sunday evenings began from 
 that date to be spent either with Bradshaw at King's College 
 
 ^ J. was theu acting as Deputy for Dr. Luard.
 
 2 20 y- ^y some of his Friends 
 
 or with the J/s at Scroope Terrace, with the latter frequently 
 at dinner. 
 
 There were special reasons which tended to promote friend- 
 ship between J. W. Clark and myself. It happened that as a 
 boy I had taken great interest in the study of heraldry and 
 genealogy, in family -history and archaeology. J. was then 
 deep in his enthralling occupation of completing his uncle 
 Professor Willis's monumental work, the Architechiral History 
 of the University and Colleges of Cambridge. The bulk of 
 this was completed, but there were certain subsidiary sec- 
 tions of the work for which J. was glad of assistance, and 
 gratefully accepted such as I could afford him in preparing the 
 history of Eton College, the chapter on libraries, and details 
 about heraldry and historical portraits. All this produced a 
 sympathetic friendship which readily deepened into personal 
 affection. 
 
 The real intimacy of my friendship with Mr. and Mrs. J. 
 may be said to date from June 1880, when to my intense 
 delight they asked me to accompany them on their projected 
 visit to the Passion Play at Ober-Ammergau. We left London 
 on 22nd June, and, travelling by Flushing, Frankfurt, and 
 Munich, arrived at Ober-Ammergau on Friday, 26th June. 
 We stayed at the house of a family called Veit, most of whom 
 were engaged in parts of varying importance in the Passion 
 Play. The play itself took place on Sunday, 28th June, and 
 the intense interest and deep feeling aroused by the perfor- 
 mance in all of us could not be described in mere words. J.'s 
 love of the theatre seemed to reach a climax when witnessing the 
 performance of these simple peasants. Though not addicted 
 to external expression of piety, and even resentful of any undue 
 display of it, he was sincerely religious at heart, and it was 
 evident that the play moved him deeply. 
 
 From Ober-Ammergau we visited the Tyrol, and were 
 joined by Lawrence Jones, who had met us at Ammergau. 
 We went across the beautiful Bavarian highlands by Mitten- 
 wald to Innsbruck. At Mittenwald we had a slightly amusing
 
 Lionel Oust 221 
 
 adventure, in that mine host, or hostess, at the inn, being short of 
 room, showed us into a vast kind of state reception-room with 
 four beds, assuming that the lady would not object to passing 
 the night in the same room as Lawrence Jones and myself. 
 Nor was it easy to find accommodation for Mrs. Clark else- 
 where. From Innsbruck we crossed the Brenner to Franzens- 
 feste, and thence to Lienz. From Lienz we went up to 
 Windisch-Matrei, where we spent two days, and thence across 
 the mountains to Kals and to the splendid region under the 
 Gross-Venediger and Gross-Glockner. We were all in first-rate 
 spirits, the weather fine, the scenery magnificent, and the 
 mountains carpeted with flowers of almost incredible beauty. 
 J. was a good walker, and Mrs. J. a patient and uncomplaining 
 traveller, whose staying qualities were somewhat overrated by 
 her husband. The second day's walking was longer than was 
 contemplated, ending in having to cross on foot the huge 
 Pasterze glacier, and to put up at the rough, though quite 
 clean and comfortable, Glocknerhaus on the Franz-Josephs- 
 hohe by the side of the glacier. Mrs, J. was sadly tired on 
 arriving there, and I have always feared that the strain and 
 exertion of this day left some permanent trace upon her 
 constitution. This did not affect our happiness at the time, 
 and I remember well sitting out on the rocks in the sun, with 
 edelweiss growing like a weed about us, in full view of the 
 Gross-Glockner across the immense glacier, while J. read aloud 
 Robert Browning's " Saul " and other poems. 
 
 From thence we went down to Heiligenblut and back to 
 Lienz, whence we struck south by Toblach to Cortina, where 
 we spent a few days. Although it was July, Mr. and Mrs. J. 
 had a great wish to go down to Venice, and this we did. 
 On 14th July we took a carriage and drove down to Cadore, 
 to Longarone, where we stayed the night, and on to Serra- 
 valle and Vittorio, whence we took the train to Venice. We 
 spent six days at Venice in great enjoyment, only troubled 
 by hot nights and mosquitoes. It was a real pleasure to be in 
 a place like Venice with J. The extent and diversity of his
 
 222 y^ ^y some of his Friends 
 
 interests, the width and practical use of his knowledge, all made 
 him a most valuable companion and instructor. He was 
 specially interested in the restorations then going on of the 
 exterior of St. Mark's. With his usual facility for making 
 friends J. enlisted the interest of a young architect then in 
 charge of the works, whom I believe to have been Giacomo 
 Boni, since so well known in connection with the excavations at 
 Rome. Under his guidance we were taken all over the outside 
 of St. Mark''s and shown plans and sections of the foundations, 
 and also over the Ducal Palace. 
 
 Another interesting visit at Venice was to Mr. Rawdon 
 Brown, who, as we found, was smarting from his failure to 
 conciliate and appease the Poet Laureate, Mr. Tennyson, who 
 with his son had called upon him to enlist his help to remove 
 a trifling grievance which had plunged the poet into great 
 dudgeon. The old gentleman's disappointment was quite 
 removed by the genial and sympathetic attitude of J., who at 
 once humoured all his hobbies and made a friend of Mr. Brown 
 for ever. 
 
 Venice was by no means the end of our journey. We went 
 next to Verona, and from Verona to Trent, where we took a 
 small onmibus, or stellwagen, up a very hot valley to a little 
 place called Borgo, and by Castel Tessin and Canale St. Bovo 
 made our way to Primiero. Small incidents remain in the 
 memory. One was that when we were about two miles out 
 from Borgo or Trent, I forget which, Mrs. Clark found she 
 had left something behind, upon which the driver dropped his 
 reins and ran back to fetch it, leaving us in unwilling charge 
 of the horses and carriage, and sweltering in a small tight- 
 covered vehicle. The wonderful dolomites of Primiero were a 
 great delight to J., and we would gladly have spent a longer 
 time among them. We had to make our way back, stopping 
 at San Martino di Castrozza, Campidello, and Seiss. From 
 Seiss J. and I walked over the Schlern down to the valley at 
 Atzwang, and thence by rail to Innsbruck, Munich, Mainz, and 
 so to England.
 
 Lmiel Cust 22 1 
 
 During such a journey friendship must inevitably grow to 
 intimacy. With Mr. and Mrs. J. it became the linking of my 
 life to theirs. In Germany the kindly-disposed but not over- 
 observant casual acquaintance more than once assumed that I 
 must be Mr. and Mrs. J.'s son, and thus I learnt to know and 
 value Mrs. J. not only as one of the best and noblest of 
 ■women, but in the light of an intimate relation. In this 
 light I spent the short remainder of my days at Cambridge. 
 Scroope Terrace had moved into Scroope House in order to 
 be near Mrs. Clark, senior, and the larger the house the 
 ampler the welcome found within its doors. 
 
 I was of course only one of many drawn from many 
 generations of Cambridge undergraduates who came under 
 the influence of J. He had an immense capacity for friend- 
 ship, not only with younger men in different classes of life, 
 but with men of his own standing and near his own age, I 
 have often heard him speak of men like Dr. Henry Jackson, 
 Sir Michael Foster, Henry Bradshaw, Sir Richard Jebb, Dr. 
 Luard, and others in terms of affectionate respect, as if they 
 were brothers in a family rather than only fellow- workers in 
 the cause of the University. On the other hand, he was a good 
 hater, as all men of strong affections should be ; and dislike, 
 once begun, was seldom mitigated. J. was a born organiser ; 
 whether it were a museum or library, the A.D.C. or a Greek 
 play, the accounts or history of a college, the reception of 
 royalty, even the matrimonial affairs of a friend or the funeral 
 of a colleague. Somewhat of a spoilt child evidently at the 
 start, he was sometimes slow to see that his organisation might 
 not be the best possible, or to admit that the system on which 
 others worked, if it were distasteful to him, might not have 
 some good points to its own credit. This made him occasion- 
 ally somewhat difficult to work with. He was bitterly dis- 
 appointed at not being chosen to succeed Professor Robertson 
 Smith as University Librarian ; but the rebuff was a blessing 
 in disguise, as it left him open to accept the post of Registrary 
 to the University, a post thoroughly congenial to him, for which
 
 2 24 y* ^y some of his Friends 
 
 not only was he by nature and temperament most admirably 
 fitted, but had qualified himself already by acting for several 
 years as deputy for Dr. Luard. 
 
 The post of Registrary, moreover, kept him in contact with 
 the younger members of the University. He always felt it deeply 
 whenever the son of any of his former friends came up to the 
 University and failed to avail himself of the friendship that J. 
 was so readv to offer him. For my own part, my removal from 
 Cambridge only intensified my friendship with Scroope House. 
 From that time to the end my visits were frequent, until the 
 house seemed like a home. As the younger man grew up to 
 meet the older on his own ground my rapport with J. got 
 steadily clearer and stronger, until there was nothing in our 
 lives in which we did not take as it were a mutual share. 
 This was especially the case with his books, for throughout the 
 compilation of The Care of Books I was able, being then at 
 the British Museum, to render him some assistance. On one 
 occasion, in April 1894, J. joined me at The Hague, and we 
 made a special expedition to Zutphen to see the chained 
 library in the church there, of which he has given a full descrip- 
 tion in his book. Here, as elsewhere on the Continent, J. 
 displayed a wonderful power of getting the right side of 
 librarians, curators, etc., and not only obtaining what he 
 wanted at the moment, but making them willing and even 
 anxious to assist him after his return to England. 
 
 There was no better person to travel with than J. In the 
 mountains he was not only interested in, but able to expound 
 the mysteries of nature. He was quite as much a man of 
 science as a bookworm, and it is possible that his work in the 
 Museum of Comparative Anatomy was really the best work of 
 his life. His scientific studies, at all events, gave him system, 
 and enabled him to carry out historical compilations with 
 lucidity and accuracy. In turning over his books and papers, 
 I was often struck by finding some casual note of my own 
 carefully inserted just at the right place, where it might be 
 useful for future reference. Curiously enough, although I was
 
 Lionel Oust 22^ 
 
 often present at the discussions upon the English and French 
 theatre between J. and his friends, I was very seldom with him 
 at the theatre in person. I remember a discussion at Scroope 
 House, at which, I think. Professor (now Sir Charles) Wald- 
 stein, Harry (now Sir H. F.) Wilson, and Frank Pryor were 
 present, when it was first decided that a Greek play should be 
 produced ; and the AJax of Sophocles was selected, on the 
 ground of the admirable opening it presented for the peculiar 
 personality of J. K. Stephen. This must have been in 1882, 
 as I had then gone down and was working as a clerk in 
 the War Office. I was able, however, to get leave and come 
 to Cambridge to help in the production of the AJax, in which 
 I took one or two non-speaking parts, but in the rehearsals 
 I was able to give J. some practical assistance. 
 
 Unluckily, I was unable to get leave the following year, 
 and so was unable to accept a similar share in the production 
 of The Birds of Aristophanes. In this, however, and subse- 
 quently in the Eumenides, the Ion, the Iphigenia in Tauris, I 
 was continually able to help J. with minor details. 1 was, how- 
 ever, lucky enough to accompany J. to some special theatrical 
 performances in London, such as the German plays by the Saxe- 
 Meiningen Company ; and I well remember our enthusiasm 
 over the Julius Cccsar and the Iphigenie of Herr Barnay and his 
 company, and our patient despair throughout the long-drawn 
 agonies of Das Kdthchen von Heilbronn. Another interest- 
 ing experiment was taking J. and his wife to one of the early 
 cycles of Wagner's Ringdei- Nihelungen in London, in which J., 
 in spite of his constitutional inability to appreciate music, 
 seemed deeply interested. It was always a wish of his to attend 
 some of the performances at Bayreuth as a dramatic experi- 
 ence ; but I do not think that this wish of his was ever gratified. 
 J. was, however, always ready for a dramatic experience, whether 
 it was a new piece at the Theatre Franc^-ais in Paris or a perform- 
 ance of the Bijou Amateurs in Cambridge. He was genuinely 
 happy behind the scenes of the theatre, and it was a real pride 
 
 to him to take a youthful friend and penetrate into the august 
 
 p
 
 2 26 y'^y some of his Friends 
 
 mysteries of the Comedie Fraii^aise, where he had so many per- 
 sonal friends. Towards the end of his life I was able to provide 
 him with a dramatic experience which pleased him very much, 
 for while J. was our guest at Windsor he was invited by King 
 Edward VII. to attend the theatricals at Windsor Castle given 
 in honour of the King and Queen of Sweden. The late King 
 always had a great regard for J., dating back from His Majesty*'s 
 Cambridge days. 
 
 It was my good fortune to be asked by J. on behalf of 
 the Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Chase, to assist the University in the 
 reception of the King and Queen at Cambridge in March 1904. 
 Only those in the inner working of these complicated arrange- 
 ments could understand how preponderant was the share of J. 
 in bringing them to perfection. Hardly a step was taken, a 
 word spoken, which had not been as carefully rehearsed as if 
 it had been a Greek play. 
 
 It is difficult to I'ecall more than a few episodes of a friend- 
 ship lasting over thirty years. One can scarcely omit, however, 
 noticing J.'s passionate love of the river Thames — " the sacred 
 river," as he liked to call it. For many summers in succession 
 he never failed to come and have his annual row on the Thames. 
 In earlier days this was with myself, Dick Durnford, and some 
 other friend, ending up with a dinner at Walter Durnford"'s in 
 Eton. Later we were joined sometimes by his wife, sometimes 
 by mine, occasionally by both, or by his son Willy. When he 
 was past seventy, and his health was beginning to fail, J. was 
 still ready and capable to take his turn at sculling from 
 Queen's Eyot to Boveney Lock. 
 
 It was this capacity for enjoyment which made J.'s life a 
 happy one. He enjoyed his work, he enjoyed his friends. He 
 enjoyed the theatre, quand meme, good or bad as the performance 
 might be. He was something of an epicure, and an expert in 
 wine, of which he had a quite artistic appreciation, until warnings 
 of health made him give up drinking wine at all. With such 
 tastes it follows that he was an excellent host at home and 
 abroad, who knew how to impart a Parisian flavour, at any
 
 ^. C. ^enso?t 2 2 J 
 
 time or place, to an otherwise commonplace dinner-table. 
 He loved little economies for himself, but never stinted ex- 
 penditure for his wife, his sons, or his friends. It might 
 almost be said that he enjoyed the misfortunes or ailments of 
 his friends, so keen was his pleasure in trying to minister to 
 their sorrows or their necessities. J. was essentially human, his 
 failings as human as his virtues. One secret of his sympathetic 
 friendship with younger men lay in the feeling that if they had 
 any troubles or difficulties to contend with, he at all events 
 might have, if he had not actually, had to contend with pre- 
 cisely the same difficulties himself, so that they were perfectly 
 intelligible to him. 
 
 Another matter on which J. was fully qualified to speak 
 was architecture, especially collegiate and ecclesiastical. His 
 views were practical rather than aesthetic, and through his 
 years of study of architectural history they were based on a 
 foundation of solid and seasoned experience. When the 
 War Memorial Buildings at Eton were decided upon, J. was 
 one of the members nominated to serve on the Committee 
 of Taste. After the main work had been entrusted to a 
 young Etonian architect, J. most generously devoted much 
 time and personal labour to helping the architect with sound 
 and practical advice. The disinclination of the architect to 
 avail himself of this advice gradually led J. to relinquish his 
 interest in the buildings. It may safely be asserted that much 
 of the hostile criticism with which the completed buildings 
 have been greeted would have been avoided had the architect 
 been willing to be guided by the experience of Mr. J. W. Clark. 
 
 II. REMINISCENCES BY A. C. BENSON 
 
 I first made acquaintance with J. when I was a boy at 
 Eton, in the late seventies. He was often at Eton at that 
 time, working at the history of the buildings. He discovered 
 somehow that I was interested in the antiquities of the place ; 
 and he had a peculiar gift, which was extremely and subtly
 
 22 8 J' h ^^^^ ^f ^^^ Friends 
 
 flattering to a boy, of talking about his researches without the 
 least condescension or stiffness, as though he were discussing 
 them with an equal. This was all entirely natural and spon- 
 taneous on his part, and done without any diplomacy. He 
 was fond of strolling about in the early afternoon in the 
 Playing Fields, and used to sit on the river-bank looking out 
 towards Windsor. I can see him now walking in a swift 
 gliding way, with short steps; and there I used to join him 
 sometimes. He would give me proof-sheets of his book to 
 read, and even invited suggestions, which of course delighted 
 me greatly. 
 
 When I went up to Cambridge in 1881, he was at once 
 paternally friendly. I used to dine with him, together with 
 other undergraduates, at Scroope Terrace. What we found 
 so particularly engaging about him was his charming and 
 indulgent greeting, as though he were a good-natured uncle 
 talking to favourite nephews. We respected him as a man 
 of learning and weight, and still more as a man of the world. 
 He never attempted to talk down to us, and this was the 
 sreat secret of his attractiveness. His look of bonhomie and 
 content, his smiling eye, his pleasant lisp, the scraps of idio- 
 matic French in his talk, the sense of his wide acquaintance 
 with foreign places, his love of the French theatre, all gave 
 a sense of mysterious backgrounds and wide range. We never 
 thought of him as a Don, but rather as a man of cosmopolitan 
 interests and high courtesy, who chose to live in Cambridge. 
 
 I came across him a good deal in connection with the 
 Ajax and The Birds of Aristophanes, in both of which I took 
 a small part. His good humour and enthusiasm when things 
 went right— for he had the knack of praising generously, and 
 exactly at the right moment — combined with his extreme 
 testiness and ironical frankness when things went wrong, made 
 him a most effective stage-manager. We enjoyed his conflicts 
 with other officials; but no one of us ever resented his criti- 
 cisms, because his paternal kindliness lay so close behind it all. 
 And I am sure that what won the hearts of his undergraduate
 
 ^. C, ^e72S072 2 2^ 
 
 friends was that he was never superior, and never seemed to 
 be making advances. You simply felt that he liked you, 
 wished to see you, enjoyed your company. 
 
 I was away from Cambridge for twenty years ; but came 
 across him from time to time. I was always met with the 
 same easy fondness, so that I felt that even if I did not see 
 him for months together, I had a perfectly secure place in his 
 mind and heart. 
 
 Of late years, at Cambridge, it was always just the same. 
 1 often met him, always felt the same sense of easy intimacy, 
 which came, I believe, from the simple frankness with which 
 he talked of anything that was in his mind, while he never 
 forgot one's own interests and pursuits. And here I must 
 mention the extraordinary charm which Mrs. Clark possessed. 
 There was something about her which invited perfect con- 
 fidence, and her gay and liquid laughter, which greeted anything 
 that amused her, was always an enchanting sound. J. often 
 said petulant and perverse things in her presence, but one was 
 always conscious of the deep devotion and perfect sympathy 
 which subsisted between them ; it was a truly beautiful relation 
 in its frankness and unobtrusive tenderness on both sides. 
 
 It is difficult to say exactly xohat J. was. He was an anti- 
 quary first, and in a sense a virtuoso ; but he had none of the 
 faults of the virtuoso ; he had a wide range of knowledge, and 
 he was very accurate and painstaking in detail. He had, too, 
 a remarkable gift of organisation, and the power of using and 
 trusting subordinates, whose affection he always secured. It 
 is almost impossible to describe the position he held in the 
 University. He did not aim at influence, but it came to him 
 and he enjoyed it. He was indiscreet, combative, provocative 
 and incisive in talk. He never forbore to criticise friend or 
 foe. He never repented, or withdrew, or qualified his state- 
 ments. But the affection with which he was universally 
 regarded swept all resentment away ; and he was looked upon 
 as a sort of spoilt child, who was not only allowed but expected 
 to say exactly what he thought, and whose skirmishes and mots
 
 230 y^^y ^ome of his Friends 
 
 and jests were chuckled over and enjoyed. He was full of 
 prejudices and whims; but one felt that whatever he said, he 
 could be counted upon to do the just thing and the kind 
 thing; and so he was honoured much and loved more. He 
 never paid the smallest heed to convention, nor troubled his 
 head about what people would think. He lived his own life 
 on his own lines, did an immense amount of hard and useful 
 work, and was welcomed in all companies, by young or old 
 alike, for his loyalty and generosity, his salient humour, and 
 his radiant geniality. He was one of those men who achieved 
 the end of being a figure, a distinction which many weighty 
 and worthy persons miss. And it is thus a difficult task to 
 explain to those who did not know him exactly how this came 
 about. For this particular gift does not depend upon either 
 zeal or performance, but is bound up with the mysterious 
 thing called charm, so difficult to capture or to describe, and 
 which J. possessed in a conspicuous degree.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 J.'S LOVE OF THE THEATRE 
 
 J. WAS, from first to last, a whole-hearted lover of plays : 
 good, bad, or indifferent. Not that he did not criticise, and 
 criticise well, but I positively believe that he would rather see 
 a poor play indifferently performed than none at all. He had 
 a wide knowledge of the drama, and lived in regions in this 
 respect quite unknown to me. Hence I am very happy in 
 being able to add this chapter written by Mr. Walter Pollock, 
 whose knowledge of the stage equals and in some respects 
 surpasses even that of J. : — 
 
 It was some time before I went up to Trinity — I took my 
 degree in 1871 — that I first met J. W. Clark, of whom it is 
 difficult to think or write by any other appellation than that 
 of simply "J.," or, as I think he was more generally known to 
 his friends when I first knew him, "J. W." With our first 
 meeting began a friendship that lasted unbroken throughout 
 his life. We lost sight of each other for a long time, when I 
 went to live in the country, but when either had occasion to 
 write to the other, the threads were taken up exactly as if they 
 had never been dropped, and I do not know of any better 
 proof of friendship than that. 
 
 As a boy I was fortunate in knowing many older people 
 who were known also to him, but that was not the particular 
 common ground on which acquaintanceship first began to 
 develop into friendship. Before going on to that, I feel that 
 I must record how very much I — in common, I am sure, with 
 many others — owed throughout my University career to a 
 kindness, tact, and wisdom of experience on J.'s part, which 
 
 231
 
 232 y.'s Love of the Theatre 
 
 never failed me then, and which I found ever ready as of old 
 on divers occasions in after life. 
 
 The common ground, mentioned above, was a great love of 
 French dramatic and other literature, and of the drama and 
 the theatre in England, France, and Germany — especially in 
 France. For a considerable time after our first coming to- 
 gether, the number of English devotees of the drama, who 
 knew and cared about dramatic doings in France, was absurdly 
 small compared to what it became after the first visit to 
 London, at the Opera Comique, of a small band of actors, the 
 pick of the Comedie Franc^-aise, exiled by untoward events from 
 their own historic stage. To all dramatic matters J. brought 
 the same keenness and love of research that belonged to him 
 in other pursuits. His vivid memory and description of plays 
 and actors he had seen, and his knowledge of those he had not 
 seen, were alike notable ; and in later years he was second only, 
 if second, to Palgrave Simpson in ever-ready, wide, accurate 
 information as to matters of the moment or of history in the 
 theatrical and dramatic doings of the great European cities. 
 His interest was not, any more than was Palgrave Simpson's, 
 one of dry learning; when he went to see a play, new or old, 
 he went with the same lively anticipation that we have all 
 experienced on our first introduction to the front of a real 
 theatre. I forget who told a characteristic story of Thackeray, 
 that he said to some friend or acquaintance, " Do you love the 
 play ? " and on getting for answer some sensible observation 
 as to liking a good play, exclaimed, " No, no ! That's not 
 what I mean at all ! Do you love ' the play,"" going to a play, 
 good, bad, or indifferent ? I do." That was precisely J.''s 
 attitude, or, as he often put it himself, a green curtain and 
 a row of footlights were enough to make him happy on any 
 ordinary evening. It is not everybody with whom we can go 
 to "the play" with absolute certainty of being in sympathetic 
 company. It follows naturally from what I have just said, 
 that to " do a play " with him vvas to double one's own natural 
 pleasure; or, I confess, in some cases, to be very well pleased
 
 W, H, To Hock 233 
 
 instead of bored, just because of his happily contagious delight 
 in "the play," considered as an abstract form of enjoyment. 
 If for a moment he himself felt just a shade of a suspicion of 
 tiresomeness stealing upon him, then his pet phrase of a green 
 curtain and a row of footlights was invoked, and never failed 
 to "cheer up the sprites" of himself and his companions or 
 companion, as the case might be. Unless the party was 
 thoroughly homogeneous, it was, perhaps, best to go to a 
 theatre with him alone, for it was not everyone who could 
 "taste" and enjoy the eivighmdliche which was part of his 
 nature and attraction, which led to occasional little petulances 
 and jealousies of a most harmless kind, and which no doubt 
 had to do with his unfeigned delight in " the play." Withal, 
 this quality in no wise interfered with his power of criticism, 
 unless one excepts that it preserved in him what we should all 
 like to preserve, that enthusiasm of youth which makes one 
 wishful, if not able, to be blind or impervious to such short- 
 comings as may exist in the work of even the greatest artists. 
 He was indeed, despite strong likings and dislikings, a natural 
 good critic of plays and actors, and his critical faculty had 
 been cultivated by wide experience. It was especially in the 
 case of French players that he was carried beyond criticism 
 by admiration. Doubtless this was due to his intense liking 
 for the best things in French ways and French institutions, 
 which sometimes found expression in the humorously exagge- 
 rated wish that he could look forward to being appointed 
 Sous-Prefet du Departement du Cam, whenever the French 
 invasion of England became an accomplished fact. 
 
 This, however, was no kind of bar to his recognising, with 
 enthusiasm, genius or talent in English playwrights or players. 
 The theatre, like the play, had in itself an irresistible fasci- 
 nation for him ; and I well remember his engaging delight 
 when Sothern, of Lord Dundreary and other fame, then at 
 the zenith of his success, paid him a visit at his rooms in 
 Nevile's Court, in company with some members of the Hay- 
 market company and with John O'Connor, the brilliant painter
 
 2 34 J'^ Love of the Theatre 
 
 of scenes and, later, of pictures, who took a sketch of the rooms 
 for use in a play by Tom Taylor, called A Lesson for Life, 
 part of which has its scene in rooms in college at Cambridge. 
 Nor was the same simple and infectious delight wanting when 
 he saw the admirable counterfeit presentment of his rooms on 
 the stage of the Haymarket. 
 
 I have many lively and pleasant memories of plays, both 
 in French and in English, seen in company with J. in London, 
 but even more vivid is the recollection of meetings with him 
 in and out of the theatre in Paris, the city where, in those days, 
 and again in agreement with Thackeray, he found the top of 
 his leisure enjoyment. I fancy that in later days Vienna, in 
 dramatic art and social entertainment, ran Paris hard in his 
 approval ; but I do not know if it ever actually disputed 
 supremacy. In the Parisian times, spread over some years, 
 which are bright in my memory, the Theatre Fran<^ais pro- 
 vided casts for all its plays which one supposes can hardly 
 have been surpassed ; and it was at that house of classic fame 
 that most of the evenings I recall were passed, though J,, like 
 myself, dearly loved a good melodrama, of which there was 
 ample store at the Boulevard theatres, what with Dumaine, 
 Lacressoniere, Lafontaine after he left the Fran^ais, and others 
 to fill the chief men's parts, while there was no lack of fine 
 actresses, including Madame Lafontaine. Then there was 
 Lesueur, inimitable in farce, comedy, especially in Une Partie 
 de Piqiiet, and, when he condescended to it, feer'ie ; and — but 
 I dare not begin on general recollections, and must cling, 
 dramatically speaking, to the House of Moliere. 
 
 Certainly it was a fine company that for some way on 
 from the early seventies of the last century had among its 
 chief members such men as Bressant, Coquelin, Delaunay, 
 Febvre, Got, Garraud, Laroche, Maubant, Mounet-Sully (pupil 
 of Bressant, and then in the earlier stages of his great career) 
 Thiron, Talbot, Worms, and such actresses as Mmes. Madeleine 
 Brohan, Bartet, Sarah Bernhardt, Croizette, Favart, Dinah 
 Felix (sister of Rachel), Jouassain, lieichemberg, Koyer. J.
 
 W, H, To I lock 235 
 
 revelled in discerning appreciation of these fine artists and 
 others here unnamed, and his associates, myself among them, 
 revelled with him. I do not think there was ever between 
 us any critical disagreement more than just enough on minor 
 points to give zest to talk ; while that quality was also supplied 
 by J/s store of anecdote and illustration, suggesting them- 
 selves naturally to his swift mind as the ball of conversation 
 rolled on. Of course he had special admirations — who has 
 not.''— for individual actors and actresses. I will not borrow 
 a pet exaggeration of his and say that he was, for instance, 
 " besotted with Bressant," since it would not have been easy 
 to go too far in admiration of an actor unsurpassed in 
 apprehension, in the resources of his art, and in that strange 
 quality of " presence," which depends neither on stature, nor 
 on feature, nor on voice or gait — is indeed undefinable in 
 exact terms, but which helped to make Bressant inimitable 
 in Almaviva, in Octave {Les Caprices de Marianne), and in 
 the Marquis de Presles (Le Gendre de M. Poirier), while it 
 was, perhaps, an inevitable handicap to his brilliant and 
 subtle acting of Tartufe. It is then no wonder that on one 
 occasion J. was filled so full of the combination of rare gifts 
 and accomplishments which made Bressant's position as an 
 actor unique, as to be absorbed by contemplation of it during 
 one of many enjoyable talks over the Theatre Fran^ais and its 
 company at large. So that whenever thei'e was a momentary 
 pause in the talk he was impelled to break in with the words, 
 " but to return to Bressant." I think we were none of us loath, 
 on any repetition of the phrase, to act on its suggestion ; but 
 its insistence was such that it afterwards became a catch-word, 
 and for years later, when certain intimates of J.'s were 
 together, engaged in ordinary talk, instead of saying, " but 
 to go back," they would naturally substitute, " but to return 
 to Bressant."" I catch myself sometimes saying it now, and 
 having to account for it as best I can. 
 
 From Bressant to Delaunay is a natural step since Delaunay, 
 after Bressanfs retirement, succeeded to some of Bressanfs
 
 2^6 y.'s Love of the Theatre 
 
 parts which, with his unerring sense of art, he approached from 
 a different point of view. It was, however, while Delaunay 
 was still figuring as the most wonderful oijeunes premiers, that 
 my mother and I happened to be staying in Paris at a time 
 when J. also was there, hard by to us, so that on most days 
 we met. Delaunay also was a constant visitor to us, and 
 naturally he and J. made each other's acquaintance. The 
 slight and characteristic contretemps which presently followed 
 could not have been altogether unforeseen by people who knew 
 that each man was devoted to dramatic art and all concernino- 
 it, and that each was decidedly opinionated. They got on 
 together capitally for a time, and then there came an occasion 
 of difference of opinion on some point as to which each was 
 convinced that his was the one and only right point of view. 
 And of course each stuck unswervingly to his own guns. 
 The next day I happened to be alone when J. looked in to 
 see us. He talked of this, that, and the other subject, and 
 then, as I fully expected, brought the conversation to Delaunay. 
 Of whom he said with an air of settled, one might say desperate, 
 conviction: "My dear Walter, we all know that your friend 
 Delaunay is one of the finest actors that can be imagined in 
 his own line. But you must admit that his views on (whatever 
 the matter in dispute had been) are of the narrowest, and that 
 his way of expressing them is not ingratiating." Soon after J. 
 had left, my mother returned, and while we were still talking of 
 J.*'s visit and his pronouncement, Delaunay arrived. He too 
 made a preamble on impersonal matters and then fell to 
 asking, with an air of unconcern, about our friendship with J. 
 and his vocation. When J.'s position and claims to recognition 
 had been explained to him he, too, came to his real object and 
 said that it was very interesting to find that our English 
 friend's pursuits and achievements were so varied and notable, 
 " but that does not make me find him pleasant in talk, espe- 
 cially when he is wholly in the wrong." The two, however, 
 each having shot his bolt, met on the pleasantest terms later 
 on, and, indeed, became intimate friends.
 
 W, H. To Hock 237 
 
 Another meeting which my mother and I had with J. has 
 always been vivid in my memory. We were going to a play 
 together and were to dine with him first at an excellent 
 and quiet restaurant which he had discovered and which was 
 known to but few English visitors to Paris. As many of his 
 friends will remember, he had a really fine taste in the ordering 
 of a dinner to fit a given occasion. He had commanded a 
 repast exactly suited to this occasion, and we were just about 
 to sit down in much content when a look of distress came 
 over his face and he exclaimed with many apologies that 
 he must rush back to his hotel — " I must have left it on my 
 dressing-table ; I can only hope it is there still ! " One naturally 
 asked sympathetically what "it" was, and the hurried answer 
 came that it was a bag containing gold coins. " But," said 
 my mother, vainly hoping to give comfort, " wasn't it locked ? " 
 " What locked f'' cried J. and fled. When very soon he 
 returned, restored to peace of mind and pleasant anticipation, 
 his exclamation was fully explained by the fact that the bag, 
 now safely bestowed, was a small linen coin-bag which by no 
 possibility could have lock or key. But the dramatic effect 
 of finely mingled scorn and suft'ering in " What locked?'''' was 
 such that Mounet himself might have studied it for a tragic 
 moment. 
 
 J. was with me on one occasion when, at the Franc^ais, after 
 an, of course, excellent performance of UAmi Fritz, I went 
 round to the Foyer des Artistes, which corresponds to the now 
 extinct green-room of English theatres, where we met Mile. 
 Reichemberg. Very sincere compliments were paid to her on 
 her own perfect performance in a perfect general rendering, 
 and then she said to me, "And what of the piece itself.?" 
 "La piece," I replied, "est" — and hesitated for a word, which 
 Mile. Reichemberg supplied with, " bien douce, n'est-ce-pas 
 Monsieur ? " The manner was as irresistible as the phrase, 
 and J. was so delighted with it, and recurred to it so 
 often, that this too became a kind of catch-word. Another 
 catch-word between J. and myself came from his use of a
 
 238 y.^s Love of the Theatre 
 
 phrase which tickled my fancy when I first heard it. " What 
 did you think of such-and-such a dramatic production ? " I 
 asked him. " My dear Walter," he replied, " I suspend it on 
 my adunc nose." ^ Those who knew J. will know also why the 
 expression struck me as complete. I fell into asking him 
 questions chiefly in the hope of getting the same answer again ; 
 and finally it became between us a "common form" of com- 
 pendious and sufficient criticism for certain occasions. 
 
 Several times J. himself" took up his pen," to use another 
 favourite phrase of his, as dramatic author or adapter. The 
 first work of his which I saw in this line was an English version 
 of Le Coiirrier de Lyon which he wrote specially for the A.D.C. 
 Up to that time the play was known in England by Charles 
 Reade's very skilful and dramatic English version, first played, 
 I think, by Charles Kean. Unluckily Readers dexterity in 
 adaptation was equalled by his unhandiness with the Erench 
 language. He called his piece The Courier of Lyons^ which 
 is stark nonsense. J., as was natural in him, gave to his new 
 version the strictly correct and well-devised title of The Lyons 
 Mail. When Sir Henry Irving was about to revive the old 
 play, I called his attention to this. He grasped the point at 
 once, and adopted J.'s title ; and thus, through J., the very 
 effective piece will now always be known by its only proper 
 English name. J/s version, first acted at the A.D.C. in 1870, 
 and revived with marked success in 1895, was remarkable in 
 many ways as an adaptation, but chiefly for the fact that 
 though he carried out with singular craftsmanship the task 
 which he deliberately set himself of eliminating altogether the 
 female interest, he yet managed to retain, in all its force, the 
 central dramatic motive. This drastic change threw a con- 
 siderable burden on the player of Joliquet, a burden which on 
 the first performance of the play was admirably sustained by 
 Mr. Herbert Gardner, now Lord Eurghclere, who later on was 
 associated with J. in the production of another play written 
 
 ^ "Adunc nose" was, of course, a familiar rendering of Horace's 
 nasus aduncus, a symbol of scorn.
 
 W, H, To Hock 239 
 
 specially for the A.D.C. and performed in 1872. This was 
 entitled Peer? or Feasant? and was an adaptation only in the 
 sense that J.'s encyclopaedic knowledge of the drama and the 
 stage helped him in devising some of the melodramatic situa- 
 tions and effects by which the piece is distinguished. 
 
 In the original sketch or scenario there seems to have been 
 a scene on the field of Sedgemoor which does not appear in 
 the published version. Of this Lord Burghclere kindly writes 
 to me : " I well recall it because I pressed upon J. (our scenic 
 artist as you know) that the stage should be strewn with dead 
 horses ; and when to J.'s question as to how that was to be 
 arranged, I replied with the suggestion 'stuffed figures," I 
 well remember J.'s Homeric laughter." J."'s laughter was truly 
 Homeric, as were some of his denunciations. Another anecdote 
 of J. at the A.D.C. I owe to the kindness of Mr. Charles Brook- 
 field, and I here give it exactly as he was good enough to 
 write it to me : — 
 
 " J. W. (owing no doubt to some abnormal formation of the 
 palate) had a peculiar method of speech which offered irresis- 
 tible temptation to anyone afflicted with the vulgar, parrot 
 trick of mimicry ; and many of us at the A.D.C — James 
 Lowther, Algie Lawley, Willie Elliot, Charley Newton, Bobbie 
 Milnes (1 am speaking of the late seventies), and others used 
 to vie as to who should give the most lifelike imitation of our 
 dear old friend. It would be not only tiresome but impossible 
 to convey the vagaries of his pronunciation by means of 
 phonetic spelling; suffice it to say that mysterious guttural g's 
 and grasseyes r's and approximate w''s took the place, in J. W.'s 
 mouth, of most of the consonants : to attempt one example, 
 ' My dear Lowther ' would probably come out as ' My ghear 
 Wowvargh. ' 
 
 " The popular ' Mr. Speaker ' of to-day was, in those dawn- 
 golden times, the equally popular president of the A.D.C. 
 One morning, when we were busy arranging the setting of a 
 scene for a farce called A Nice Firm, Lowther (another J. W., by 
 the way) was looking out furniture or " properties " somewhere
 
 240 y.^s Love of the Theatre 
 
 under the stage, and I was talking to him through the ' grave- 
 trap' in the voice of the Superintendent of the Museum, telling 
 him how admirably the parts of Messiter and Moon had been 
 played in days gone by, at the A.D.C. by — I forget whom — 
 and how badly they were about to be played by Brook field and 
 Lawley. After a while I made a move to the next room just as 
 the real J. W. strolled on to the stage, and, seeing me go forth, 
 and, believing me to be out of hearing, he called down the trap, 
 ' My dear Lowther, I wish you would use your influence with 
 Charlie Brook field to make him alter his reading of Messiter. 
 I cannot conceive what can have induced him to play the part 
 like a music-hall giant comique. . . .■■ 'Not a bit like it, my 
 dear Brooks,' cried Lowther in reply. *■ Mine's much better 
 than yours.' And, in admirable imitation of the Superinten- 
 dent, he repeated his actual words, ' My ghea?- Wowvargh,' etc., 
 as he clambered up the steps from below. I re-entered just in 
 time to see the two J. W.'s face to face ; I don't know which 
 looked the more astounded." 
 
 It was especially for the A.D.C. (to go back in date) that 
 J. wrote a version of Kuy Bias, pei'formed in 1867. liuy Bias 
 was played by Cyril Flower, afterwards Lord Battersea ; Don 
 Salluste by the Hon. Alfred Charteris, who, coached by J., was 
 surprisingly good. The whole play was made very telling in 
 spite of the immense difficulties. One striking effect, borrowed 
 legitimately from another play, was obtained by a watchman 
 of sonorous voice calling under the windows, just after the 
 tragedy of the final scene, "Fine night. Madrid is quiet. All 
 is well." Apart from all " devices," the arrangement and the 
 writing of the version were excellent, and there were some fine 
 lines in the rendering of Ruy Bias's great speech to the Privy 
 council, opening with : — 
 
 " O virtuous statesmen, honoui-able peers, 
 Grey with the wisdom and the weight of years. 
 In such a conclave are ye met to drain 
 The bitter chalice of the tears of Spain.'' "
 
 JV, H. To I lock 241 
 
 In this production J. himself appeared as a special mes- 
 senger to the Privy Council, and, as in other small parts, spoke 
 with a capital enunciation, despite the peculiai'ity of utterance 
 which, in another and far more arduous part in which I never 
 saw him, would not have been appreciably in his way. This 
 was the character of Raoul de Moriere in his own three-character 
 and one-act play. How Will it End? adapted in the best and 
 fullest sense of the word from Feuillefs Un Cas de Consciejice, 
 and printed in 1872. It was not an A.D.C. piece, and was 
 given at private houses only twice within my knowledge, once 
 in London, and once much later in Cambridge. The part of 
 Raoul is, as I have reason to remember, by no means easy. A 
 good judge who saw J. play it told me that his acting was 
 excellent. 
 
 To go back to the A.D.C, J.'s wholesome love of melodrama, 
 and of a big tirade in the third act, ending up with " Hence, 
 adultress ! " hurled by someone at the female villain, was by no 
 means an exclusive passion. He delighted in Sheridan and 
 Goldsmith, and prepared versions of two of Sheridan ""s comedies 
 for the A.D.C. But he there undertook, and brought to suc- 
 cessful issue, a much bigger business in 1885, when he made 
 himself responsible for the arrangement and staging, as well 
 as for the scenery of Henry IV (i), which was a singularly 
 good all-round performance. Here, on a question of the 
 character of Falstaff, he and I had one of our infrequent 
 differences of opinion. The very clever actor (Mr. Harry 
 Newton) who played the part conceived that Falstaff was a 
 real poltroon and carried out his conception with great skill. 
 J. defended this view as strongly as I opposed it.^ 
 
 Some excerpts from J.'s letters will illustrate in some detail 
 his critical attitude towards certain of the French players in 
 whose methods and performances he took delight. And first 
 of these I take two passages concerning the great tragedian 
 
 ' Those who are interested in the question may be referred to Maurice 
 Morgann's Essay, which originally appeared in 1777. It was republished 
 by the Clarendon Press in 1912.
 
 242 JT'.'j" I^ove of the Theatre 
 
 Mounet-Sully, who during his earlier times at the Fran^ais 
 had not quite attained to " begetting "" the " temperance " that 
 gives smoothness to "the very torrent, tempest, and whirlwind 
 of passion." Now J., dearly as he loved a good swashing 
 melodrama, writ with artistry and containing a cataract of a 
 tirade in the third act, and much as he could humorously 
 delight in a "barn" melodrama acted barn-wise, yet had a nice 
 objection to an exaggerated expression of emotion on the 
 boards of a great theatre. This objection was perhaps a little 
 overnice, in that sometimes, as in the case of Mounet, it pre- 
 vented him from discerning great qualities of understanding 
 and feeling that were partly obscured by faults; in this case 
 over-emphasis with voice and gesture of physical expression. 
 Thus he wrote with uncommonly faint praise of Mounefs 
 Gerald in La Fille de Roland at the Fran^^ais. For the piece, 
 in a letter written in July 1875, after seeing it, he finds little 
 to praise, but adds, " There was one passage which I applauded 
 vehemently, as giving expression to all my feehngs about the 
 dear country I am now in. Here it is. Charlemagne is hoping 
 for the glory of France : — 
 
 " * Ta gloire ! oh ! puisse t'elle, aux epoques prochaiiieSj 
 Croitre en s'aiFermissant com me croissent les chenes 
 Offrir I'abii superbe et I'ombre de son front, 
 Nation maternelle, aux peuples qui naitront ; 
 Afin qu'on dise un jour, selon mon esperance : 
 Tout homme a deux pays, le sien et puis la France ! ' " 
 
 As for the acting, he spoke in high commendation onlv of 
 Maubant as Charlemagne, of Laroche as Ragenhardt, and of 
 Mme. Sarah Bernhardt, then, as I believe he and I both 
 thought, at her true best, as the heroine. I saw the play, but 
 not with him, and I tried to persuade him to my faith that 
 Mounefs great qualities were but obscured by want of shading. 
 However, the real point is that four years later he wrote with 
 absolute enthusiasm of Mounefs Ruy Bias at the same theatre, 
 which the great tragedian has never left. On this occasion, in 
 April 1879, J. wrote thus: "I have had quite the greatest
 
 W. H. To I lock 243 
 
 dramatic sensation of my life. I did not know I could be so 
 moved by a play as I was last night by the fifth act of Ruy Bias. 
 It is too much almost for pure pleasure. I felt it was all real, 
 and that Salluste was really going to be killed. I had no idea 
 Mounet had it in him. He was quiet and intense, without 
 any ranting or extravagance, and no one, not even Leniaitre 
 himself, could have given better the lines : ' Je te tiens ecumant 
 sous mon talon de fer ! ' or the famous ' Tenez, pour un horn me 
 d'esprit, vraiment, vous m"'etonnez ! "* or the flash that seemed to 
 light up his eyes as he yelled out ' Pardieu ! j'etais laquais ! 
 quand je serais bourreau ? ' But the greatest effect, theatrically, 
 was made by following Salluste slowly to the door, and suddenly 
 brinffins; his sword down on the table with : — 
 
 ' Oui, je vais te tuer, monseigneur, vois-tu bien ? 
 Comme un infame ! comme uu laclie ! comme un cliien ! ' 
 
 I sat there panting till the curtain slowly fell." 
 
 There are those among us who remember vividly how J. 
 delighted in dwelling, in his talk, on this particular effect. 
 Those who knew him well, but who did not happen to hear 
 him descant on this particular theme, will readily imagine the 
 exact enthusiasm, emphasis, intonation, action with which he 
 described how Mounet " threw the sword down with a great 
 clang on the table, and flung out the words as if they came 
 white-hot from the furnace of his passion." 
 
 Between 1875 and 1879 Mounet had made extraordinary 
 progress in the fine art of subduing his natural tendency to 
 ebullience so that the outward showing of intense passion 
 became harmonised to the true optique du thSdtre ; and it is 
 surely worth noting that J., who seemingly had had no 
 opportunity of watching the intermediate stages, immediately 
 recognised the great change, and from that time became one of 
 the most devoted admirers of Mounet's genius, though in this 
 as in other cases he always preserved a justly critical 
 attitude. 
 
 Of Lcs Danicheffhe wrote in 1875 with great enthusiasm :
 
 2 44 y-"^ Love of the Theatre 
 
 " I do so wish you could have been with us, for it is very long 
 since I saw so grand a drama so splendidly played. You feel 
 in quite a different atmosphere from that of ordinary stage 
 plays ; among people who act from noble and pure motives, 
 but who are yet quite as human as those other persons who 
 break the seventh commandment to slow music in the plays of 
 M. Dumas. Moreover it possesses great literary merit, bristling 
 with good things, which, put into the mouths of two or three 
 minor characters, relieve the sombre melancholy of the 
 drama." 
 
 Another instance of enthusiasm, for play as well as for 
 players, is found in a passage written in 1885 which clearly 
 refers to a performance of Alfred de Musset's On ne hadine 
 pas avec rAmour. J. cordially loved and admired — as who 
 that really knows them does not .f* — those unique "comedies" 
 by Musset which really contain, along with brightest wit and 
 lightning flashes of character, the very essence of romance and 
 tragedy. On this occasion he was as much in love with the 
 play as he had been in earlier days when he saw it with Favart 
 in the part of Camille, but he found occasion for once to be 
 justly indignant with his beloved Parisians, or with that 
 section of them who then went regularly to the Franc^-ais on 
 Tuesday nights, when evening dress was expected, though not 
 enforced, in the audience. The letter was written on Wednes- 
 day, 8th April, from the Hotel St. Romain : " The Fran^ais 
 last night was delicious. Delaunay younger and brighter than 
 ever, and Bartet a vast improvement on Croizette, though she 
 don't quite come up to Favart in my opinion. She did not do 
 the ending right, and she had put a thing like a big brioche 
 on her head, made of velvet and feathers, which niddle- 
 noddled when she flung herself on the prie-dieu in a way that 
 spoilt the tragedy of the situation. D. [clearly Delaunay] 
 quite agreed with me, and the head-dress is to be suppressed." 
 Delaunay seems from this to have been at the time semainiei\ 
 or stage-director for the week ; and what is more important, 
 the passage is one of several proofs in the letters that he and J.
 
 W, H, To Hock 245 
 
 had, as people of such artistic sympathies should, quite got 
 over their former mutual prejudices. "Then," J. went on, 
 " that vile fashionable audience came late and left early, and 
 actually dared to put on its cloaks and hats while Delaunay 
 was on his knees in the last terrible scene. He told me he 
 could not help thinking of the audience instead of his part, 
 and trying to keep them quiet. Even the British Public 
 behaved better than that when the piece was given in 
 London." 
 
 Thirteen years later, in January 1898, he wrote of another 
 light of a brilliant company — Coquelin, in Cyrano de Ber- 
 gerac ; and the greater part of the letter is a criticism, with 
 every word of which I personally agree, of the play, and of the 
 actor in that particular part : — 
 
 " It is a monologue for Coquelin, who goes on talking, talking, 
 talking, surrounded by a parcel of lay-figures, who, in stage 
 slang, ' feed ' him. No doubt he has a number of fine things 
 to say, but to me he is not sympathetic ; and he has made, / 
 think, a great mistake in supposing he can play a romantic 
 character. C. de B. is an historic personage ; soldier, duellist, 
 poet, contemporary of Moliere, who pillaged his plays, and 
 especially took the famous ' Que diable allait-il faire dans cette 
 galere' from him. He was cursed with a specially long and 
 hideous nose, about which he was strangely sensitive, and 
 fought endless duels with those who made the slightest allusion 
 to it. ' Et tirer son mouchoir c'est tirer son linceul,' says one 
 of the characters. He is in love with his cousin Roxane, who 
 has set her affections on one Christian, a dull stupid soldier, 
 but as handsome as poor Cyrano is ugly. So Cyrano de- 
 termines to protect this rival of his in every way, writes his 
 love-letters, and even woos the lady for him in the dark under 
 a balcony, an extraordinarily clever scene, but utterly unreal 
 and impossible. Finally Christian is killed, and Cyrano dies 
 fourteen years afterwards in a sort of epilogue, under trees 
 in a convent garden of which Roxane seems to be abbess — 
 autumn leaves falling and all that.
 
 2^6 y's Love of the Theatre 
 
 " This somewhat thin story is stuffed out and bolstered up 
 by some very clever padding which brings on a crowd of 
 episodic personages, courtiers, soldiers, actors, etc., who are 
 always moving about and keeping the stage filled with ever- 
 changing colours. But I could not conceive the faintest interest 
 in Cyrano himself. The whole notion of the sacrifice he makes 
 is too absurd to be accepted even on the stage, and the one 
 thing that might have helped one to believe in it — a fine 
 romantic presence in the principal actor — is wholly wanting. 
 He could not help his nose, but he might have been tall and 
 graceful, which poor dear Coquelin is not." 
 
 As I turn over J.'s letters on matters dramatic in search of a 
 particular reference my eye and attention are caught by a shrewd 
 and chai-acteristic passage in a letter from England (1904) to 
 a friend in Paris. " I am sorry you did not like CEdipe Roi. 
 People's tastes do differ so, as Mrs. Bouncer profoundly observes. 
 Englishmen, accustomed to the namby-pamby society mumble 
 of their stage, have no feeling for a grande th-ade ; and when 
 Mounet or his brother, M. Paul Mounet, whose voice is loud, 
 I admit, let themselves go, Englishmen invariably say they 
 rant." In this, as was often the case with J.'s criticisms, there 
 was a very real truth ; but, in his eagerness to present it, he 
 had at the moment forgotten that there were other aspects of 
 the question. To illustrate this, I well remember with what 
 enthusiasm he described to me the first (or nearly the first) 
 performance, at the old Prince of Wales's Theatre, of Robert- 
 son's Caste^ by what for convenience one may term the Ban- 
 croft Company. "Here," he said, with whole delight, "in the 
 very first scene you have two English gentlemen talking, 
 sitting, moving like English gentlemen, speaking so that the 
 whole house can hear them, yet seeming to speak only to 
 themselves. It is the same with their gestures and their 
 changes of place. In the same spirit and in the same way the 
 whole play is carried through up to the final curtain. No 
 Parisian acting can beat it." This was an accurate judgment, 
 and J.'s momentary forgetfulness was doubtless due to the fact
 
 W. H. To I lock 2+7 
 
 that as time went on the vogue for naturalness — inculcated 
 before the Bancroft era by Charles Mathews chief among 
 others — had degenerated into slip-shodness and slurring and, 
 to use a favourite word of J/s, " mumbling." This he always 
 very properly detested, as, very properly or not, he detested 
 various derogations from dramatic art, as he both knew and 
 conceived it, which at various times have proclaimed them- 
 selves as the New Drama. Thus, when, in his later years, he 
 was persuaded (and I fancy it took some persuasion) to go to 
 a performance given by the Irish players (who, as a friend of 
 J.'s writes to me, were really excellent, but not to J.'s taste), 
 what he said, in his most emphatic and penetrating tones when 
 asked for his opinion at the end of the evening was, " A set 
 of incompetent amateurs mumbling rubbish in the dark." 
 Indeed J.'s dramatic criticism of plays and players was apt to 
 have a Jehu-like touch. " Many critics do there be " who can 
 play the Jehu after a fashion ; but assuredly not too many 
 who possess the true knowledge and taste which were always 
 at the back of J.'s opinions, however hasty or terse they may 
 by accident or intention have been in expression. I do not 
 call to mind many instances of his "damning with faint praise" 
 in the case of playwrights or players. In such matters he liked 
 and used, broadly speaking, " a good fat brush " ; yet no one 
 better appreciated subtlety when it was unaffected, as witness 
 his enthusiasm for the plays of Musset. It is true that 
 Musset combined breadth with subtlety in a fashion of his 
 own. What J. " would not have at any price " was preciosity. 
 Again, he had a very clear belief that the real purpose of 
 the drama was not found either in using the stage as an obvious 
 conduit for a playwright's convictions on moral, political, or 
 semi- religious ethics, or in attempting a literal record of things 
 and people as one sees them when there are no footlights, no 
 paint, no powder, in short no theatre. The desire to make 
 the stage a mere photograph, without any touching up or 
 toning down, of life outside the theatre, had no recommendation 
 to J.'s judgment. One of his comments upon it was that the
 
 24^ y-^s Love of the Theatre 
 
 logical consequence would be, in the case of an " interior,"" to 
 build up the fourth wall of the room, generally indicated by 
 the proscenium and float. What he would have thought of the 
 new ideas, one might call them regulations, which forbid the 
 use of an " aside " or a soliloquy in any circumstances, at 
 any rate of present-day life, can but be inferred. But I 
 fancy that his opinion of such strangely devised fetters for the 
 modern playwright might have been as strongly expressed as 
 it was in the dictum " Rubbish n)umbled in the dark." But 
 to return to the excellent instances of J.'s cast of thought and 
 happiness of expression found in his letters. Here is one which, 
 though, as will be seen, it does not express a final judgment, 
 is decidedly characteristic. It concerns Othello at the Fran(j:ais : 
 the letter does not mention what French version of the play 
 was used. J. greatly admired the whole effect of the per- 
 formance and singled out for special praise M. Paul Mounet's 
 lago. Concerning the great tragedian who played Othello he 
 said very justly, "As for Mounet it is difficult to judge him 
 on a single representation. It is a very careful and elabo- 
 rate performance — too elaborate perhaps — and the Orientalism 
 of it seemed to me to be extravagant. There is certainly too 
 much falling down, added to an epileptic seizure, and I am 
 inclined to doubt whether an Oriental would have got in a 
 rage at all. He might have been very angry with lago, but 
 with his wife he would have thought it all Kismet and strangled 
 her as we drown kittens." This may be or may not be so ; it 
 leaves aside the question of how far Shakespeare's conception 
 is " Oriental," and also the fact that in Shakespeare"'s play 
 Othello appears as a naturalised V'enetian. But I have 
 quoted it chiefly as being an exception that proves a rule. It 
 is the only case in my knowledge of a curious inconsistency 
 in J.''s judgments on matters dramatic. For, in spite of this 
 expressed view as to what ought to be Othello's attitude, to 
 be expressed presumably by the actor of Othello, towards 
 Desdemona, he yet had a passionate admiration for Salvini's 
 Othello, which certainly was intended to be very Oriental, and
 
 W. H. Tollock 249 
 
 certainly in the last scene was nothing if not raging. Fechter 
 came much nearer to the suy-oestion in J.'s letter than did 
 Salvini. As to the Italian actof, I well remember the trend 
 of many conversations and arguments with J. upon the render- 
 ing which Salvini gave; arguments wherein we agreed about 
 the earlier scenes, including the dismissal of Cassio, after which 
 we parted company. But, generally, a passage in another of J."'s 
 letters speaks decisively for itself on that question. " I once 
 made a Tripos List," he wrote, " of the best things I had 
 seen in the way of acting." He set out the scheme of this 
 Tripos, which I do not quote in full because he left out many 
 English and Continental actors of whom I know he thought 
 highly. The noteworthy point to illustrate what has been 
 said is that he put " Salvini in Othello " in Class I all by 
 himself, and added that " after Salvini a broad line should be 
 drawn. He is not only the best actor I ever saw, but he went 
 farther than I thought dramatic art could go." Close on this 
 he wrote in high praise of M. Mounet-Sully's ffidipe, and this 
 passage is so characteristic, and will recall J. so vividly to any- 
 one who knew him, that it is worth quoting almost in full : — 
 
 " Mounet in ffidipe rises to the height of tragic power. 
 He not only puts before his audience the profundity of sorrow 
 for a crime of which he is, in fact, innocent ; but he portrays 
 his character. Oedipus is before you — the rather vulgar self- 
 satisfied person on whom all things have smiled, and who, when 
 he does talk to his inferiors, does it in a very condescending, 
 patronizing way. Such a man feels the crash more than 
 another would ; and the royalty in ruins is something appalling 
 as a picture of despair. I tried to copy it here [Cambridge] 
 when we played (Edipus, and was only scolded for putting 
 lioiTors before the audience. I replied that my critics evidently 
 had not read the play, and advised them to go home and do so." 
 
 To turn to another French version of a Greek tragedy, 
 the following passage shows not only how well J. knew " Greek 
 Play," but is also a good instance of how alert and ready for 
 new, even at the expense of old, impressions he kept his mind ;
 
 250 y.'s Love of the Theatre 
 
 a quality as valuable in a critic as in an artist. The concluding 
 sentences make one wish that J. had "taken up his pen" for 
 the burlesque he suggests : — 
 
 "I went last night [21st August 1907] to the Franc^'ais to 
 see Electra. I don't feel quite so sure as I did before that 
 Sophocles was a great dramatist. A one-part play, the prin- 
 cipal character in which is always screaming, is not attractive. 
 Mme. Silvain is excellent, from a certain point of view, but if 
 she would only have given us ' a few brilliant flashes of silence "" 
 her performance would have been infinitely finer. For instance, 
 she spoilt the recognition scene, which was famous, if I mistake 
 not, even in the ancient world, by yelling at the top of her 
 voice, and Orestes did the same. It resembled nothing so 
 much as two cats screaming at each other. If only she had 
 fallen into his arms in silence ! One can imagine how Rachel 
 would have done it had she attempted the part. I confess that 
 I sympathised a good deal with Clytemnestra, who for ten years 
 or more had endured the presence of this ' furie,' as she calls 
 her, at the domestic fireside. What a burlesque might be 
 written on it ! The dresses were good, and the scene pretty, 
 but I doubt its accuracy both as a landscape and from an 
 archaeological point of view." 
 
 I quote from one more letter concerning the actors at the 
 Fran^ais because it shows how evenly, as a rule, its writer held 
 the scales of dramatic judgment even when he was most 
 strongly inclined to praise, as he certainly was in the case of 
 the Fran^ais company generally, and not least in that of the 
 admirable actor Edmond Got. He went in December 1882 to 
 see Le lioi s'Amuse, was full of high expectations, and was 
 " sorry to record a very great disappointment. Worth seeing 
 it is; but, alas ! badly done from beginning to end, and, unlike 
 the Franc^-ais, the small parts are so bad ; the courtiers are 
 common, and the stage-business clumsy, full of blunders. 
 Mounet-Sully looks Fran(^'ois I^'" but cannot act him, except in 
 the love-scene in Act II, where he is very good. Got cannot 
 play Triboulet. He is a good, comfortable old gentleman who
 
 W. H. Tollock 251 
 
 could never say a funny thing or do a wicked one ; and he 
 speaks the sublime monologue of the fifth act without con- 
 viction, like a schoolboy on a speech-day. It seems to him to 
 be the most ordinary thing in the world to have the body of a 
 King in a sack ; and he speaks those splendid lines : — 
 
 ' Que je suis grand ici, ma colere de feu 
 Va de pair cette nuit avec celle de Dieu,' 
 
 as though they had no particular significance. I should like to 
 see Coquelin or Taillade do it. Jacques Reubell said a very 
 good thing about him in Act I, when he carries a cap and bells : 
 ' II a Tair d'un bon bourgeois qui parcourt le Louvre pour 
 epousseter les meubles."* Fran^^ois would not have kept such a 
 dull jester for an hour. Of course he has moments. The great 
 scene with the Courtiers in Act III was very good. Again, he 
 was very good in Act IV with Saltabadil when the latter asks 
 the name of the man whom he is to murder. 'II s'appelle le 
 crime, et moi le chatiment.' Oddly enough he was at his best 
 in the scene with the bystanders when the body of Blanche had 
 been found in the sack. There he was really pathetic, and I had 
 a genuine thrill. From my general condemnation of the whole 
 piece I must except Mile, liartet, who did her best with Blanche 
 and was very charming. But Lord ! what rot Hugo makes the 
 poor thing talk ! It is almost as well that I am not going to 
 write an article on it in the Saturday : I should feel compelled 
 to speak against the Fran^ais as I never thought I should have 
 to speak." Le Roi s' Amuse was a great favourite with J., and 
 it is interesting to note that in 1904 he printed privately a very 
 telling version of Act V. 
 
 J.'s love for the Fran(^'ais (the Temple, as he usually called it) 
 was a very real thing, and his first visit to the house as rebuilt 
 after the fire was a shock to him. In January 1901 he wrote : 
 " The spectacle presented by the house is navrant — there is no 
 other word for it. The fire having made havoc with the one 
 relic of the ancien reg^ime left to us, the architect of the theatre 
 has finished it off. The passages and vestibules remind one
 
 252 y.^s Love 0/ the Theatre 
 
 of a provincial railway station. Floors and staircases are of 
 stone, the balustrades of common ironwork, the walls coloured 
 yellow, the boxes made of light-brown oak. At the top of 
 the grand staircase, where the statue of Rachel used to stand, 
 and where the door was which led to the Loges des Artistes, 
 are three cold vulgar arches of stone, and an ascenseui' ! The 
 Foyer and the statue of Voltaire have been suffered to remain, 
 but the long gallery leading out of it has been vulgarised, 
 and the statue of George Sand has disappeared. In the 
 house the horrid yellow pursues you, alternating with dull 
 red. The one change that was really wanted has, of course, 
 not been made. The floor is still too low, so that you cannot 
 see the feet of the artists. The proscenium makes you shudder 
 to look at it. A broad band of oak-leaves, evidently made 
 of plaster, goes all round, thickly covered with yellow paint ; 
 and at the bottom two ridiculous flower-beds of sham flowers." 
 Certainly the change, as vividly described by J. in 1901, must 
 have been amazingly unpleasing to anyone who had known 
 and cared for the old Theatre Francais, and there can hardly 
 have been an Englishman who knew it better and loved it 
 better than did J. 
 
 As to English dramatic art, I went with J. to plays in 
 London less often than I did to plays in Paris. But I know 
 certain things as to his tastes and opinions. He always loved 
 a melodrama, and delighted in such pieces as The Silver 
 King, The Lyons Mail, and The Bells. He was worried, 
 perhaps unduly, by some of Sir Henry Irving's mannerisms, 
 but not the less he fully recognised and admired the actor"'s 
 genius; and it is for many reasons noteworthy that he specially 
 admired Irving's King Lear, in which part he also had a real 
 admiration for Mr. Benson. Mrs. John Wood, who certainly 
 was inimitable, was a special favourite of his ; and he dis- 
 cerned the very high, individual, and latterly very flexible talent 
 of John Clayton before it had found full public recognition, 
 and before he had any personal knowledge of the actor. I 
 believe Clayton was the only actor on the English stage whom
 
 W. H. To Hock 253 
 
 he knew well in private life. Clayton once paid him a visit 
 at Cambridge, and J/s delight then was as unaffected and 
 pleasing to see as was his earlier joy in the passing visit from 
 some of the old Haymarket Company. But for Clayton he 
 had a real friendship. As I write I am reminded of a good 
 instance of J.'s aptness in summing up the essence of an actor's 
 achievement in a particular part. Clayton had been cast for 
 Dazzle in London Assurance, a part which then seemed not 
 altogether in his line. I asked J., who had seen Charles 
 Mathews, the original Uazzle, what he thought of it, and 
 how it compared with Mathews's rendering. He replied, " It 
 was a fine, well-thought-out piece of work. Clayton knew 
 how he, personally, could get big effects, and he got them. 
 Mathews's Dazzle was like the finest champagne; Clayton's 
 was like the finest burgundy." I saw Clayton in Dazzle, and 
 could imagine Mathews in the character from J.'s descriptions, 
 and from seeing him in not dissin)ilar parts ; and it seemed to 
 me that the distinction could not have been better drawn than 
 it was by J. 
 
 Mention of Clayton, excellent actor and excellent com- 
 panion and friend, reminds me of a subject on which J. and I 
 were wont to cap experiences, the subject being the astounding 
 perversions of a French author's meaning that used to obtain 
 in English "conveyances" from French playwrights. On the 
 occasion of Clayton's visit to J. at Cambridge he took a hand 
 in this game. J. and I offered instances, some of which I 
 still remember. One was a special favourite of J.'s and came 
 from a Proverbe bv Musset. The French line is, " J'ai mis 
 M. de Savigny a la porte avec son petit meuble " (a pincushion 
 or something similar which Savigny had brought with him). 
 The line given to the English actor was, " I have put Monsieur 
 de Savigny at the door with his little piece of furniture." Then 
 there was, in the English version oiLes Damclieff', for " N'eveillez 
 pas le medecin qui dort" (which of course should have been 
 rendered " Let sleeping doctors lie "), " Do not arouse a slum- 
 bering physician." And again, among other absurdities, in
 
 2 54 J?'*'-^ Love of the Theatre 
 
 an English version of a French perversion of The School for 
 Scandal is the remarkable line, " I assure you my wife shines 
 in society like an artificial fire." When J. and I had for the 
 time being exhausted our examples, Clayton put the final 
 touch by recounting how once, playing a youth making love 
 to a woman of the world, who good-naturedly laughed at him, 
 he had to say (with an emphasis which he could not resist), 
 " Madam, you treat me like a scholar ! " Of which line the 
 original is obvious enough. 
 
 That J. was as thorough and keen a critic of English as he 
 was of French plays and players may be seen in the following 
 extract from a letter written in 1895 : — 
 
 " I went last night to see Mrs. EhhsmUh. I suppose one 
 ought not to judge so careful a work, on which the author 
 has evidently spent months of thought and labour, at a first 
 hearing ; but I must admit that in the first place it is dull. 
 There is no action — talk, talk, talk for three mortal hours ; and 
 talk uttered by, or about, two invertebrate persons who don't 
 know their own minds. Mrs. Patrick Campbell acts splendidly. 
 I had no idea what a real artist she was till I saw her in this, 
 but her part is a thankless one; and there is no justification 
 for the sudden change of front in the second act when she 
 
 "fc>" 
 
 appears in an outre dress, looking like a cracker off a 
 Christmas tree, as Freddy Bentinck said. This change should 
 have been carefully prepared. Then again, the much-vaunted 
 scene of the burning of the Bible fell quite flat last night — 
 there was no applause at all. It seemed to me that the 
 audience had got bored with the stove, which all the characters 
 had been fiddling at ever since the curtain went up. First 
 the servants make up the fire ; then Cleeve burns a lot of 
 letters in it; then she and he are always sitting down in front 
 of it, and opening and shutting the door. When you know 
 what the great scene is to bo, this wretched piece of furniture 
 gets on your nerves." 
 
 With this characteristically keen quotation I close my 
 personal and other recollections of J., whereof the setting
 
 W. H. ToIIock 2SS 
 
 down has been naturally y\vKV7rtfcpov, though there is nought 
 but pleasure in the thought that between him and me there was 
 never an atom of bitterness. 
 
 There are very few subjects (bar politics, on which we agreed 
 to differ totally) concerning the thoughts or deeds of mankind 
 which I have not, at one time or another, discussed with J. in 
 Paris, in London, in Cambridge, before and during his married 
 life. Always I found these talks delightful, and never, I 
 think, did I miss learning something from them. Whenever 
 and wherever we were for long in company together we were 
 pretty sure, sooner or later, " to return to Bressant," in other 
 words to matters dramatic. On these, from the Greek tragedies 
 and comedies to the latest farce or melodrama of the moment, 
 his knowledge and command of illustration were unique. In 
 conversation or argument concerning them he was always 
 learned, constantly enthusiastic in praise or blame, often 
 brilliant, and never tedious. 
 
 In addition to his general interest in dramatic art at home 
 and abroad, there were three particular manifestations of it at 
 Cambridge in which J. played an important executive part. 
 These were the A.D.C. performances ; the series of productions 
 of Greek plays; and the regular New Theatre pieces. The 
 first two have been alluded to elsewhere. With regard to the 
 last, J.'s connexion with the regular drama in Cambridge goes 
 back to the time when the more enlightened members of town 
 and University were agitating and memorialising to get that 
 part of the Theatres Act of 1843 repealed which gave the Vice- 
 Chancellor absolute power to prohibit dramatic performances 
 within the borough or fourteen miles thereof. It is difficult to 
 realise at the present time the strength of the opposition to the 
 establishment of a theatre in Cambridge. But it would appear 
 that in the seventies many would have been found to agree 
 with an eminent dissenting minister who in quite recent years
 
 256 y.^s Love of the Theatre 
 
 was heard to describe the pit entrance of the New Theatre 
 as the mouth of Hell ! 
 
 It was largely due to the untiring efforts of Mr. W. B. 
 Red fern that this state of things came to an end. By the 
 Cambridge University and Corporation Act of 1894 the Vice- 
 Chancellor was to some extent shorn of his powers, and in the 
 following year the present New Theatre was built on the site 
 of the earlier Saint Andrew's Hall, where Mr. Redfern had for 
 some time been providing more or less regular dramatic enter- 
 tainment. A company was formed to work the New Theatre, 
 with Mr. Redfern as Managing Director. Of this company J. 
 was a Director from its formation, and after the death of Mr. 
 T. Hyde Hills he became its chairman, an office to which he 
 was elected in 1902 and which he held until his death. He 
 took the warmest interest in the fortunes of the theatre, was 
 constantly present at performances, and did all in his power to 
 provide good plays and to put a stop to the occasional vul- 
 garities of a small section of the audience.
 
 APPENDIX I 
 
 J. AS SUPERINTENDENT OF THE MUSEUM 
 
 OF ZOOLOGY 
 
 The zoological collections belonging to the University are 
 housed in the Museum of Zoology and Comparative Anatomy 
 and in the Bird -room, and are under the control of a Superin- 
 tendent, who is now elected by the Special Board of Biology 
 and Geology. The Museum has a double origin, (i) from the 
 collections belonging to the Philosophical Society, and (ii) from 
 the comparative — anatomical, physiological, and osteological 
 specimens prepared or purchased by successive holders of the 
 Chair of Anatomy. 
 
 The Philosophical Society was founded in 1819, and 
 received its Royal Charter in 1832. In this latter year the 
 Society launched out and built themselves the spacious, if un- 
 lovely, house which now shelters the Hawk's Club and overlooks 
 the old churchyard of All Saints, The house was well adapted 
 for the Society's purpose with a Lecture-room, Reading-room, 
 Museum, and other apartments, but its cost was beyond their 
 means. For a time, however, the Society flourished, but, as 
 the years passed, the number of members declined, the burden 
 of the building expenses bore with increasing weight on the 
 diminished membership, and in 1865 the house had to be sold. 
 The Society and their Library were then housed by the Uni- 
 versity in the present (1912) Philosophical Council Room, and 
 their Museum — known as the Museum of Zoology — was made 
 over to the University. 
 
 I. — The Musetcm of Zoology 
 
 This Museum was fully described in the Cambridge Port- 
 folio, 1838, by the well-known naturalist, Mr. Leonard Jenyns. 
 
 Its character remained the same till its transference to the 
 
 257 1^
 
 2^S y. at the 3[luseum of Zoology 
 
 Museums — that is to say, it remained essentially a British 
 faunistic collection, and, to a considerable extent, a local one. 
 Largely it consisted of stuffed vertebrates, birds"* eggs, and 
 pinned-out insects collected in Cambridgeshire, but, as will be 
 seen from Mr. Jenyns's account, an exception must be made 
 to these statements when the fishes are mentioned. Mr. Jenyns 
 writes : — 
 
 " The Cambridge Philosophical Society has been employed 
 from the period of its first establishment in 1819, in gradually 
 forming a Museum of Natural History. With a view to this 
 end, it has from time to time effected several purchases, as 
 well as received the contributions of various donors. The 
 Museum, however, is not large; partly owing to the limited 
 funds which can be appropriated to its support, and partly 
 to the necessarily restricted space allotted for its reception 
 in the Society's house. It is principally, though not ex- 
 clusively, devoted to the illustration of the British Fauna. 
 The foundation of the Museum may be attributed to Pro- 
 fessor Henslow, who presented to the Society at its first in- 
 stitution his entire collection of British Insects and Shells, 
 arranged respectively in two cabinets. Several smaller dona- 
 tions quickly followed, leading the Society to take an increased 
 interest in this part of its establishment. In 1828, a spirited 
 subscription was commenced amongst its members to assist 
 in purchasing a most valuable collection of British Birds, for 
 obtaining which an opportunity then offered itself. This 
 collection had belonged formerly to Mr. John Morgan of 
 London. It was extremely rich, especially in the rarer species. 
 Many additions, however, have been since made to it; and 
 the whole forms now a range of thirty large cases, which 
 are placed round the principal room in the Museum. The 
 birds are beautifully preserved ; and the cases of sufficient size 
 to admit, in many instances, of containing entire families. 
 One of the cases contains British Quadrupeds. In 1829, the 
 Society purchased a small collection of British Insects, which 
 was incorporated with that previously presented by Professor
 
 3[Iuseum of Zoology 259 
 
 Henslow. This collection, which consisted of about 2000 
 species, was valuable from the specimens having been arranged 
 and named by Mr. Stephens, the celebrated Entomologist 
 of London. Various additions in the same department have 
 been since made from time to time by different contributors. 
 In 1833, the Society purchased Mr. Stephens"* entire collection 
 of British Shells, contained in two cabinets and comprising 
 a most extensive series of species as well as of individuals 
 of each. The Museum has been further enriched, in the 
 department of the British Fauna, by a collection of Birds'* 
 Eggs, presented in part by Mr. Yarrell and in part by Mr. 
 Leadbeater; also by a collection of Fish, obtained prin- 
 cipally on the southern shores of the island by Professor 
 Henslow and the Rev. L. Jenyns ; and by a small collection 
 of marine Invertehrata, obtained at Weymouth by the former 
 of the two gentlemen last mentioned. 
 
 " The foreign department of the Museum is not extensive, 
 consisting for the most part of single specimens which have 
 been presented at different times by different individuals. It 
 contains, however, a small collection of reptiles presented by 
 Mr. Thomas Bell. It is also rich in Ichthyological speci- 
 mens ; having been presented some years back with a collection 
 offish made at Madeira by the Rev. R. T. Lowe ; subsequently, 
 with another collection made in China by the Rev. C. Vachell ; 
 and yet more recently, with the entire collection of fish 
 brought home from South America and some other portions 
 of the globe by C. Darwin, Esq., of Christ's College, the 
 accompanying Naturalist in the late voyage of the Beagle^ 
 under the command of Captain Fitzroy. The whole of the 
 fish above alluded to, as well as those belonging to the British 
 collection, are preserved in spirits. They amount to several 
 hundred species ; and many of those comprised in the Darwin 
 Collection are entirely new. Altogether, they constitute a highly 
 valuable as well as interesting portion of the Society's Museum. 
 
 " Independently of the collections above enumerated, the 
 Philosophical Society has made it an object to establish a
 
 2 6o y-^t t^^ Museum of Zoology 
 
 separate collection of the principal animals found in Cam- 
 bridgeshire. This is a step of the utility of which there 
 can be no doubt. Local collections of this nature tend to 
 illustrate the Faunas of particular districts ; and local Faunas 
 offer the best materials for completing our knowledge of 
 the Zoology of the whole kingdom. They also throw light 
 upon the geographical distribution of animals. In proportion 
 to the number of places in which such collections are estab- 
 lished, they assist in determining the extreme range of the 
 different species, as well as the districts to which they are 
 ordinarily confined. In this department, however, the Birds 
 of Cambridgeshire and a few of its Mammalia are alone as 
 yet fitted up for public inspection ; but considerable collections 
 have been made in the other classes, which are destined one 
 day to take their place in the Museum also. 
 
 " The Museum of the Society, and that part of it in par- 
 ticular Avhich has been just alluded to, has been pi-obably 
 instrumental in exciting much interest in the University in 
 the science of Zoology, and diffusing amongst its members 
 a taste for such pursuits. Nor is the surrounding neighbour- 
 hood at all unfavourable for the researches of the naturalist. 
 On the contrary, Cambridgeshire may be considered as rich 
 in animal productions. From combining within itself a con- 
 siderable variety of soil and situation, it adapts itself to the 
 habits of very different species. The fens in particular are 
 inhabited by many rare aquatic birds and insects ; and some 
 of these, previous to the introduction of the present system 
 of drainage, were in considerable abundance. It may perhaps 
 be interesting to mention, that the entire number of vertebrate 
 animals found in Cambridgeshire amount to 281. Of these, 
 38 belong to the class Mammalia ; 204 to that of Birds ; 9 
 to that of Reptiles [and Amphibia] ; and 32 to that of Fish.^ 
 
 ^ In the Natural Ui.storii of Cainhridgcshirc, edited by Dr. Marr and 
 myself (Cambridge, V.KH), the number of Birds is given as 235 ; of Reptiles 
 and Amphibia, 11 ; of Fishes, 42. 'J'he number of Cambridgeshire Mammals 
 is not recorded.
 
 3^useum of Zoology 261 
 
 The invertebrate animals require further investigation ; but 
 they probably exceed 9000, of which the greater portion 
 belong to the division of Annulosa." 
 
 This Collection of the Philosophical Society formed the 
 Museum of Zoology, and was for many years kept separate from 
 the other Collection which in the main came from the De- 
 partment of Anatomy. It was at first placed in what is 
 now the Bird-room, Judging by the Annual Reports, the 
 Museum of Zoology was rather tiresome to manage ; either the 
 room was inadequate or the number of cabinets and show-cases 
 insufficient. In his report for 1872, J. talks of " defects which 
 are so serious that I sometimes think that no Museum of Zoology 
 at all would be preferable to one so badly appointed as ours is 
 at present." A beginning of the amalgamation of the two 
 collections had, however, been made when, in the previous year, 
 Mr. G. R. Crotch had brought all the Lepidoptera which the 
 University possessed into one collection. In 1877, Fawcett''s 
 first building, which now shelters part of Zoology and Physiology, 
 was completed, and then the Museum of Zoology, whose eastern 
 windows had been blocked by the central staircase, was provided 
 with a sky-light. J. reports that " it is now a very commodious 
 and well-lighted apartment."" It then occurred to the authorities 
 to do what should have been done from the first, and the 
 Zoological collection upstairs was broken up and incorporated 
 with the Museum of Comparative Anatomy downstairs. The 
 fish were stored in the galleries, and the rest of the room was 
 given over to Ornithology. It became in fact the " Bird-room," 
 and Salvin's Museum downstairs now became the Museum of 
 Zoology and Comparative Anatomy. 
 
 II. — The Museum of Comparative Anatomy 
 
 The earliest Annual Report of the Museums and Lecture 
 Rooms Syndicate is dated 1867, and from that year forward 
 we find in these Reports a complete and lucid statement of the
 
 262 y. at the 3\dtiseum of Zoology 
 
 growth of the various collections. The care of J,, however, has 
 supplemented this by a series of volumes called the " History of 
 the Museum," in which all documents and papers connected 
 with the Institution have been carefully preserved and catalogued. 
 It had been agreed in 1865 to remove the osteological and 
 the small invertebrate collections, together with the physiological 
 series, from Professor Clark's Museum at the Anatomical Schools 
 to the newly built Comparative Anatomy Museum, and this 
 was done under J.'s supervision. It was further stated that 
 the large skeletons required some " cleaning and mending, an 
 operation which Mr. J. W. Clark, Fellow of Trinity College, 
 had kindly undertaken to superintend." J. was eventually put 
 in complete charge of the rearrangement of the collections, and 
 on 19th October 1865 we find him reporting to the Vice- 
 Chancellor in detail on the arrangements he had adopted. He 
 dwelt in his Report upon the advantage of having a series of 
 specimens illustrating comparative osteology, and the import- 
 ance of the Physiological collection, which practically illustrated 
 by a series of dissections the comparative anatomy of the " soft " 
 
 organs. 
 
 In early days, until the birth of the Museums and Lecture 
 Rooms Syndicate, the Museum was annually inspected by the 
 Vice-Chancellor, the Regius Professor of Physic, and a few other 
 gentlemen, a custom which dates back at least as far as 1837 ; 
 and the first mention I find of J. in their Annual Reports is in 
 the year 1856, when J. W. Clark, B.A. of Trinity College, pre- 
 sented two skulls of reindeer to the Museum. In 1860 he 
 presented the skeleton of a heron, the skeleton being set up by 
 Dr. Drosier, who stood for the Professorship of Zoology and 
 Comparative Anatomy in 1866, when Alfred Newton was elected, 
 and instituted at his death the Urosier Fellowships at Gonville 
 and Caius College. In 1861 we find J. assisting his father in 
 the rearrangement of the Osteological Department, where he 
 labelled and determined a large number of preparations. The 
 same year he presented to the Museum some fifty specimens 
 which he had evidently collected. From that time onwards he
 
 3\duseum of Comparative ^Anatomy 262 
 
 was closely associated with the Zoological Collections, of which 
 he was formally appointed Superintendent in the year 1866. 
 
 The Museum of Comparative Anatomy as opposed to the 
 Museum of Zoology (the Philosophical Society's Collections) 
 consisted in the main of Zoological specimens, which had been 
 gradually accumulating in the Human Anatomy Museum for 
 the last hundred years. Sir Busick Harwood (Professor from 
 1785-1814) took a wide view of his subject — the Professorship 
 is one of Anatomy, not of Human Anatomy — and lectured and 
 demonstrated on the lower Vertebrates, some of which, having 
 yielded up their anatomical secrets on the dissecting-table during 
 the morning, were said to have reappeared upon his table at the 
 mid-afternoon dinner of the period. He gathered together a 
 considerable number of mammalian skeletons and a few stuffed 
 specimens. His next successor but one, Dr. W. Clark (1817- 
 1866), J.'s father, was very energetic in acquiring Zoological 
 specimens for his Museum. Many he paid for himself, and 
 from time to time he succeeded in persuading the University to 
 increase the collections by purchase. In 1820 and 1821 he was 
 negotiating for a collection of wax-models made by Calanzuoli of 
 Bologna ; and in 1823 the latter was paid sixty sequins. Later, 
 Mrs. Clark also made certain wax-models for the Museum, but 
 all these have unfortunately perished. In 1830, the " Museum 
 Brookesianum " was broken up, and at the sale Professor 
 Clark acquired a considerable number of specimens : these 
 were, however, with a few exceptions, of a medical or patho- 
 logical description. Four years later Mr. J. B. Milsom, then 
 an undergraduate of Trinity College, described a hybrid 
 between a lion and a tiger which had died in the menagerie of 
 Mr. Atkins at Cambridge ; and the animal was secured for the 
 Museum. In the following year over dClOO was spent in 
 buying specimens at Delafont's sale. These specimens were 
 bought under the advice of Mr. (later Sir) Richard Owen. 
 The same year the collection of Professor Meckel of Halle was 
 offered to the University, but I find no record of its being 
 bought.
 
 264 y' ^t tJ^^ 3\4tcsetim of Zoology 
 
 In May 1836 a sub-syndicate recommended the purchase of 
 the collections of Dr. Macartney, then Professor of Anatomy 
 at Trinity College, Dublin. The collections consisted of over 
 17,000 specimens illustrative of Human and Comparative 
 Anatomy. They were bought, but, as the state of the Uni- 
 versity Chest did not justify the payment of a single large sum, 
 it was agreed to pay Dr. Macartney an annuity of ^£^100 a year 
 for ten years ; and shortly afterwards special regulations were 
 submitted to the Senate for the proper care and management 
 of the specimens. The next important accession was made in 
 1840, when Mr. William Swainson offered his collection of 
 birds to Professor Henslow at a price (of'SSO) which practically 
 made it a gift. The money was got together by subscription. 
 Besides the birds, which numbered nearly 3000 species, this 
 collection comprised a considerable number of mammalian skins 
 and specimens of reptiles and fishes, and some 10,000 insects 
 and a few other invertebrates; also a herbarium of some value. 
 In 1846, Captain Francis P. Blackwood, R.N., further increased 
 the avian collections of the University by presenting a large 
 number of birds which he had collected whilst surveying the 
 great barrier-reefs on the eastern coast of Australia and the 
 channels and islands of the Torres Straits. In 1863, F. B. 
 Goodacre, who had removed his Museum of Vertebrate Animals 
 to Cambridge, made it over to the University under certain 
 conditions. 
 
 These, then, were the collections which formed by far the 
 larger part of the Museum of Comparative Anatomy, and it was 
 these which J. removed from the Anatomical Schools, and 
 began to instal in their new quarters in 1866. 
 
 J., as I have said above, was formally appointed Superin- 
 tendent in 1866, and the first lleport of the newly constituted 
 Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate, which had been in- 
 augurated in the same year, appeared in 1867. J. was at this 
 time busily engaged in getting the two Museums into order, 
 and especially in arranging the series of Fishes collected in 
 Madeira by Mr. Lowe of Christ's College, and the large
 
 The Physiological Collection 265 
 
 number of specimens taken by Mr. Darwin during the voyage 
 of the Beagle. These fishes were shortly after named and 
 catalogued by Dr. Giinther of the British Museum. 
 
 In his very first Report, J. draws attention " to the lament- 
 able deficiencies of the Invertebrata ; Molluscs are scarcely 
 represented at all ; of Crustacea there are absolutely none," 
 in either Museum. 
 
 J. always took the greatest interest in what was termed 
 the Physiological Collection. It consisted of specimens pre- 
 pared by Sir Busick Harwood, Dr. Macartney, his father and 
 others, and of many specimens from the Museum of the late 
 Professor Schroder van der Kolk of Utrecht, which had been 
 purchased by Professor Humphry and by him presented to 
 the University. A good deal of the summer of 1866 was 
 spent in overhauling these collections, eliminating useless or 
 decayed specimens, and remounting and arranging the whole 
 according to the system of Hunter, as developed in the cata- 
 logue of the Museum of the College of Surgeons. Professor 
 Humphry drew up a most useful analysis of the whole as a 
 guide to students. 
 
 What gave J., with his love of marine mammals, the 
 keenest pleasure in 1866 was the acquisition of the complete 
 skeleton of the Common Fin-Whale {Balasnoptera muscuhis),^ 
 " which from its importance I cannot forbear briefly to call 
 attention to. 
 
 "The animal was cast ashore dead, in Pevensey Bay, 
 Sussex, during the night of 13th November 1865. It was 
 claimed by the Crown, and sold to a company of fishermen 
 who, after showing it for some days, sold it to a speculator 
 at Hastings, by whom the bones were put together roughly, 
 and exhibited for some months. Finally, at the end of 
 May last, he disposed of them by public auction, when 
 they became the property of the University. The skeleton is 
 that of an adult male, 67 feet long, perfect and in excellent 
 condition. In fact, when properly articulated and put up 
 
 ^ Called in J.'s time Physalis musculus.
 
 2 66 y. at the 3duseiim of Zoology 
 
 in the Museum, we shall unquestionably possess the finest 
 skeleton of a Fin-Whale at present existing in this country." 
 
 In 1867 the Annual Report records, what it always has 
 recorded, and what it will, I believe, always record, the 
 inadequacy of the provision of wall-cases and cabinets neces- 
 sary for storing the Natural History specimens. By this time 
 Dr. Giinther had examined the collection of fishes made by 
 Lowe, Darwin, Vachell, and others, and determined those still 
 unnamed, and the Swainson Collection of Birds had also been 
 overhauled and found to be in good condition. 
 
 An epoch in the history of the Zoological Collections 
 began in the spring of this year when Mrs. C. D. M. 
 Strickland wrote on the 7th March 1867 to the Superintendent 
 offering for the acceptance of the University of Cambridge 
 a collection of upwards of one thousand bird-skins formed 
 by her husband, H. E. Strickland, M.A., F.R.S., late Deputy 
 Reader in Geology at the University of Oxford. In her 
 letters she states: "My object in offering the Collection to 
 the University is to aid professed naturalists, not to furnish 
 a means of instruction to beginners, and still less as an 
 additional object of interest to mere sight-seers." The offer 
 was gratefully accepted. 
 
 The importance of housing the Swainson and Strickland 
 Collections was such that J., in conjunction with Professor 
 Newton, attempted to raise by subscription a sum suffi- 
 ciently large to pay for the necessary cases in which to 
 store the bird -skins. Their efforts were to a certain extent 
 successful. They obtained ofi'SSS from private individuals, 
 and ^£"380 from the Colleges. In the middle of the last century, 
 Colleges were more wont than at present (though there are 
 still one or two honourable exceptions) to contribute of their 
 corporate funds to University objects, for instance to the cost 
 of these cases, or to the purchase of Collections. Possibly this 
 was because the annual contribution to the University did 
 not then exist, and also because in those days the Colleges 
 were richer. The sums just mentioned, though insufficient to
 
 ht vertebrata 267 
 
 provide quite enough cabinets, enabled J. to accommodate all 
 the skins they then had, except some of the largest. 
 
 The collection of Invertebrates was also increasing, and the 
 Superintendent was arranging for the small band of students 
 a useful educational series, selecting his material from the 
 Woodward Collection of Shells purchased by subscription in 
 the autumn of 1866, from the British Insects and Molluscs which 
 had belonged to the Cambridge Philosophical Society, and from 
 a series of Sea Anemones, Echinoderms, and Tunicates, named 
 and selected by Professor Llitken of Copenhagen. During 
 this year Mr. Joseph Gedge, M.B. of Gonville and Caius 
 College (the founder of the Gedge Prize), who died at Khartoum 
 whilst acting as medical officer to Sir Samuel Baker's Egyptian 
 expedition, and Mr, L. Ewbank of Clare College, were engaged, 
 the one in making skilful and minute dissections and anatomical 
 preparations, the other in arranging Woodward's Molluscs. 
 Dr. James Murie, at that time Prosector to the Zoological 
 Society of London, was most useful in supplying the Museum 
 with portions of animals who had died in the Society's Gardens. 
 The Museum Avas indeed beginning to attract attention, and 
 many of the students were contributing occasional specimens. 
 Nothing pleased J. more than the spontaneous visits of shy 
 but inquiring undergraduates. Many of them, like Mr. C. F. 
 Tyrwhitt Drake and Mr. T. E. Buckley of Trinity, sub- 
 sequently became generous benefactors to the Collections. 
 
 In 1868, Mr. W. Savile Kent, who had rearranged the Inver- 
 tebrate Series for the Museum of the College of Surgeons, 
 was engaged in helping J, to prepare a catalogue of the 
 Cambridge collection of Invertebrata in the Museum of Com- 
 parative Anatomy ; he also rearranged and named the series of 
 Corals, This year J. writes about the vertebrate part of his 
 collections with pride : — 
 
 " I must especially particularise the almost perfect skeletons 
 of a male and female Solitaire (Pezophaps solitaria), temporarily 
 deposited by Mr. (afterwards Sir Edward) Newton of Magdalene 
 College, Colonial Secretary of Mauritius. This bird, whose
 
 2 68 y. at the 3\duseum of Zoology 
 
 geographical range was limited to the island of Rodriguez, and 
 whose very existence, although described by Fran^-ois Leguat in 
 the sixteenth century, was more than once called in question, 
 has now been restored to us through Mr. Newton's perseverance 
 in visiting the island and recovering a large series of its bones 
 from the caves in which they had lain buried. We also have 
 acquired on the same terms the most complete known skeleton 
 of the Dodo {Didus ineptus) put together from bones obtained 
 by Mr. Newton in Mauritius, as well as casts of most of the 
 separate bones of the Dodo and Solitaire preserved in other 
 Museums ; and Professor Rolleston has lately given us photo- 
 graphs of the Dodo's head and foot at Oxford ; so that we 
 now possess complete materials for the comprehension of the 
 osteology of these remarkable forms." 
 
 Numerous other osteological specimens were added about 
 this time, especially a very large series of semi-fossilised bones 
 of old fen forms : Bos, Cervus, Sus, and Equus. These were 
 presented by Mr. James Carter, who for many years had been 
 studying the extinct fauna of the district. 
 
 By 1869 the Swainson and Strickland Collections had been 
 arranged ; Mrs. Strickland herself spent many days in the 
 museum, labelling and sorting the birds and compiling a cata- 
 logue. These Collections amounted to nearly 6000 specimens, 
 referable to over 3000 species, and were amongst the few large 
 Collections accumulated by a private person. Mr. Selby''s 
 Collection of bird-skins, amounting to 1400 in number, those 
 of the Blackwood Collection, the Collection belonging to the 
 Philosophical Society, with some other smaller Collections, 
 were now all brought together, sorted and fitted into drawers. 
 Mr, R. B. Sharp, F.L.S., of the British Museum, was occupied 
 in naming and cataloguing the birds; and Mr. P. L. Sclater, 
 F.R.S., and Mr. Osbert Salvin of Trinity Hall, most kindly 
 examined the Collection and took an active part in its re- 
 arrangement. 
 
 J.'s chief zoological interest was always with marine mam- 
 mals, and he now records a present by Professor Humphry of a
 
 The Library 26c) 
 
 very large and fine skeleton, " unquestionably the finest in this 
 country, of a sea otter." This year, too, came a valuable series 
 of Tasmanian Marsupials, presented by Mr. M. Allport of 
 Hobart Town, many belonging to forms which were rapidly 
 becoming rare and threaten soon to be extinct. In 1870 Charles 
 Darwin presented the great majority of the collections of Inver- 
 tebrata made by him during the celebrated voyage of the 
 Beagle ; and the Museum further received a valuable collection 
 of reptiles, birds, and mammals collected by Mr. C. F. Tyrwhitt 
 Drake of Trinity College in the Sinaitic Peninsula, where he 
 had been exploring in conjunction with Mr. E. H. Palmer of 
 St. John's College. In the following year Palmer became Lord 
 Almoner's Professor of Arabic, a post which he held until his 
 tragic murder in 1883. 
 
 About this time (1870) J. was able to secure the assistance of 
 Mr, T. W. Bridge, a student at Trinity College, who was subse- 
 quently Professor at the Mason College, later the University of 
 Birmingham. The appointment, if it was an appointment, 
 must have been unofficial ; as it was not until seven years later 
 that the University established an officer under J., who was 
 called Curator in Zoology. Mr. Bridge was at first largely 
 occupied with dissecting and mounting preparations. 
 
 In the same year an attempt was made towards the 
 formation of a Museum library, which has since grown into 
 a very considerable and a very valuable collection of books. 
 A Grace of the Senate was passed, by which the Syndics 
 of the University Library were allowed to deposit duplicates 
 of works on natural science at the New Museums. This 
 library has been immensely increased in size and even more 
 in value, by the Buckley Collection of books on Africa, at 
 present temporarily placed in the Philosophical Library, and by 
 the very valuable Newton Library. These with the Balfour 
 Library, the Strickland Library, and the Norman Library, 
 make altogether a collection of books on animal natural history 
 of inestimable value, and it is to be hoped that they will soon be 
 consolidated under one roof and under the care of one librarian.
 
 270 y^ ^t the 3\duseum of Zoology 
 
 The Hepburn Collection, got together by Mr. James 
 Hepburn of St. John's College, who had long lived at San 
 Francisco, was generously given to the University by his 
 executors in 1870, in fulfilment of his well-known wish. The 
 collection was illustrative of the fauna of the Pacific seaboard 
 from Alaska to Panama, and contained, amongst other rarities, 
 two complete skeletons of the Northern Fur-seal [Callorhinus 
 ursinus) ; these, as J. records, " are of very great value, being, 
 as far as I know, the first skeletons of this seal that have been 
 acquired by any European museum." In the same year J. records 
 with pleased surprise the continued increase in the numbers of 
 students frequenting the Museum. He was particularly good 
 at talking to and interesting the junior members of the Uni- 
 versity, at any rate if he took the least liking to them. He 
 had the knack of making them think he really wanted to see 
 them, and to hear their opinions and what they had to say. 
 
 In the following year — 1871 — an arrangement was entered 
 into with Mr. G. R. Crotch of St. John's College to deter- 
 mine and arrange the University's collection of Insects, which 
 had just been largely increased by the acquisition of the col- 
 lections of British Lepidoptera formed by the late Messrs. 
 J. and T. Brown of King's Parade. Mr. Crotch presented his 
 own fine collection of Coleoptera, and the University acquired 
 from him collections of the British Diptera, Hymenoptera, 
 Trichoptera, and Hemiptera. 
 
 An entirely new movement in the teaching of Zoology in 
 the University was begun in the same year (1871).^ J., with 
 the assistance of his friend Mr. Bridge, began for the first 
 time to give courses of practical work. As he himself writes : — 
 
 " It is impossible to teach Comparative Anatomy efficiently 
 
 ' Similar practical work in Zoolog-y was commenced by Huxley in 
 London the following year. "In 1872 the removal of the ISchool of Mines 
 from Jermyn Street to South Kensington gave the long-desired oppor- 
 tunity of completing his plan of instruction, by enabling every student to 
 examine for himself, in the laboratory, the types described in the lectures " 
 {Diet. JKat. Biog.).
 
 Tractical Work 271 
 
 without practical work ; by which I mean the dissection of 
 Vertebrates and Invertebrates by the students under proper 
 supervision. Without such facilities (which are provided in a 
 most thorough and complete manner at Oxford), there is a 
 danger of students either gaining their knowledge second-hand 
 from books, or of their being obliged to have recourse to 
 instructors, who would have to provide educational appliances 
 apart from the Museum, thereby defeating the objects of the 
 University in creating and supporting the large and increasing 
 collection that we now possess. With the view of supplying 
 this want — and of supplementing the lectures of Professor 
 Newton by a course of instruction that lectures cannot possibly 
 convey — I have, during last term and this, commenced a class 
 for practical work, presided over by Mr. Bridge and myself, which 
 will in a short time, I have little doubt, become a large one. 
 For this, however, there is but one room available, that 
 assigned to myself: a room quite unsuited to the reception of 
 a number of students ; I venture, therefore, to urge upon the 
 University the immediate necessity of considering the question 
 of how to provide additional accommodation for this purpose." 
 
 This first course of practical demonstrations in Comparative 
 Anatomy met with Professor Alfred Newton's entire approval, 
 and he records his satisfaction that it had been undertaken. 
 
 It has hardly been recognised that J. in this matter started 
 a new era. There was to some extent, in 1871, practical work 
 in Chemistry and a little in Mechanism under Professor Willis, 
 but except the arid inspection of the specimens comprising the 
 Hortus sicais and periodic visits to the Botanic Garden, there 
 was nothing on the biological side, if we omit Human Anatomy, 
 and only this year (1871) at Cambridge were the "oppor- 
 tunities for practical anatomy " sufficient to allow the Royal 
 College of Surgeons to recognise our SchooL But there was 
 no practical work in Physiology or Physics or Pathology. 
 Previous Professors of Anatomy had, of course, dissected 
 various animals whilst their students looked on, but now for 
 the first time students actually dissected the animals them-
 
 2']2 y-^^t the 3V[useum of Zoology 
 
 selves, and saw what they themselves had displayed in the 
 specimen ; they were also encouraged to make preparations of 
 a permanent nature. 
 
 During the following year (1872) J. records : " The Museum 
 has now been more used by students than in any preceding 
 year. The classes for Practical Work and the Demonstrations 
 in Comparative Osteology have been well attended, and the 
 appointment of a Demonstrator will probably increase the 
 number of learners. But all the success of directing students 
 only makes the need of proper rooms to teach and work in the 
 more obvious." 
 
 Professor Newton, in his report on this year, strongly urges 
 upon the Senate the necessity of taking immediate steps for 
 the appointment of a Curator who, under the Superintendent, 
 would have charge of the Zoological Department of the 
 University. The conditions of the collections he held were 
 falling behind, and much that should be displayed was still 
 unavailable. 
 
 The year 1873 was marked by one of the greatest additions 
 the Museum of Zoology has ever received — the MacAndrew 
 Collection of Shells. Not only did Mr. Robert MacAndrew, 
 F.R.S., bequeath the whole of his collections of marine 
 Molluscs, dredged in the course of many voyages undertaken 
 solely for this purpose, but he left to the University a valuable 
 library dealing with Conchology, and his widow generously 
 presented to the University the cases in which the collections 
 were contained. Mr. MacAndrew had himself catalogued his 
 collection, which contained over 2000 genera and nearly 
 16,000 species. The special object of Mr. MacAndrew's 
 researches was the investigation of the growth of shells from 
 the earliest stage of the Mollusc to the adult : in consequence 
 he always sought to obtain a long series of each species ; in 
 many cases twelve to twenty examples were collected and 
 ai'ranged, so that the total number of specimens of the collec- 
 tion amounted to some 200,000. As Mr. MacAndrew gave up 
 his leisure to dredging expeditions wholly devoted to obtain-
 
 The Strickland Curator 273 
 
 ing Mollusca in the North Sea, the Mediterranean, and the 
 Gulf of Suez, his specimens were obtained fresh, and as a 
 rule alive. The precise locality was always noted at the time 
 of capture. 
 
 The Narwhal with two tusks, which is so conspicuous an 
 object in the Museum of Zoology, was now articulated and put 
 on show. J. records that " it is one of the finest in existence. 
 It was taken on the coast of Greenland in 1868, and was 
 presented to the Museum by my father a few months before his 
 death." 
 
 A Demonstrator to the Professor of Zoology and of 
 Comparative Anatomy had been established in March 1873, 
 and Professor Newton nominated J.'s unofficial assistant, 
 Mr. T. W. Bridge, to the post. The nomination was con- 
 firmed by the Vice-Chancellor. Professor Newton, so far as I 
 am aware, never took part in actually demonstrating to 
 students, though he was most kind in showing members of 
 his class specimens of bird-skins, birds' eggs, etc. Still, he 
 heartily approved of practical work, and most generously lent 
 his Demonstrator to carry on this side of the subject. 
 
 Early in 1874 the Senate accepted the offer of Miss 
 Frances Strickland of Apperley Court, to found a Curatorship 
 for Birds at a stipend of :i^l50 per annum, in memory of 
 her brother. Mr. Osbert Salvin, M.A., of Trinity Hall, son 
 of the architect, was appointed the first Curator. This 
 materially lightened the work of the Superintendent, and 
 henceforth he was to a great extent relieved of the Birds. As 
 is well known. Professor Newton had made a special study 
 of this class of Vertebrates, and was all his life con- 
 tinually presenting specimens to our Ornithological Collec- 
 tions. On the foundation of the Strickland Curatorship he 
 presented over 600 skins. The new Curator, Mr. Salvin, at 
 once set to work to catalogue the Strickland Collection, a task 
 which was materially aided by Mrs. Strickland's liberality in pre- 
 senting a considerable portion of her library to the Museum. 
 
 Mr. G. R. Crotch, who had unhappily died young, be- 
 
 s
 
 2 74 y>cit the 3\duseum of Zoology 
 
 queathed in 1874 his collection of European Coleoptera in 152 
 boxes to the University, and J. mentions this year, for the first 
 time in his Annual Report, Mr. F. M. Balfour of Trinity College, 
 who had sent numerous specimens from the Bay of Naples. J. 
 himself had spent the early part of 1874 in Algeria, and had 
 brought back with him collections of skulls, skins, and skeletons, 
 and also specimens from the seashore. The former were 
 greatly augmented by the acquisition of seventeen skeletons of 
 African mammals, presented by Mr. T. E. Buckley of Trinity 
 College, who was now travelling in South-East Africa. 
 
 The classes of students continued to be well attended, the 
 numbers averaging about twelve a term. Zoology was evidently 
 beginning to flourish as a practical subject, though both 
 teachers and taught were handicapped by the demonstrations 
 being still held in J.'s private room. The consequence to him 
 personally, he plaintively writes, is " complete exclusion from 
 the room I was formerly suffered to occupy." He had now to 
 content himself with a table in the Museum. In 1875 an 
 additional class was conducted, under the direction of Mr. 
 F. M, Balfour, and Mr. A. M. Marshall of St. John's College, 
 later Professor at Owens' College, Manchester. Great difficulty 
 was, however, experienced in accommodating the students who 
 attended these classes and those of the Demonstrator of Com- 
 parative Anatomy, but hope was entertained that adequate 
 room would be found for them in a new building, for which the 
 Museums and Lecture Booms Syndicate had been authorised 
 to obtain tenders. 
 
 In 1875, Mr. J. F. Hamilton presented his entire collection 
 of bird-skins, over 1400 specimens of upwards of 1000 species, 
 at least a third of which had been hitherto unrepresented in 
 the Collection ; and Mrs. Strickland added to the list of her 
 numerous gifts by sending the remainder of her husband's 
 Ornithological and Scientific Library, consisting of over 400 
 volumes. 
 
 J.'s work during the year 1876 was greatly interrupted 
 and interfered with by the demolition of his two work-
 
 Curators of Zoology 275 
 
 rooms to make way for the new buildings now being put up 
 under the direction of Mr. Fawcett, which were to afford the 
 much-needed increase of space. The Trustees of the British 
 Museum this year sent a large number of duplicate specimens, 
 collected in the Southern Seas by the Transit of Venus expedi- 
 tion, and Professor Agassiz of Harvard University presented 
 a long series of Fish, illustrating seventy genera, so that it is 
 not surprising to learn that the " principal work of the year 
 has been in the rearrangement of the Fish." 
 
 The new buildings just mentioned, which had been com- 
 menced in the Long Vacation of 1876, were partially completed 
 and occupied in 1878. There had been a considerable delay 
 due to the collapse of a concrete floor on the topmost story. 
 
 In the spring of 1877 the post of Curator of Zoology was 
 established and J. looked forward to a lightening of his work. 
 But Zoology was then a fast-growing subject in these islands ; 
 teachers were badly wanted, and other careers attracted the 
 Curators. The first three holders of the post were " birds of 
 passage," and annually the post had to be refilled. The first 
 Curator (1877-8) was J. F. Bullar, B.A., of Trinity College, 
 who devoted himself with much energy to the Invertebrate col- 
 lections. Subsequently Mr. Bullar adopted a medical career. 
 
 Professor Humphry, Professor Newton, and J. were now 
 housed in the private rooms on the ground floor of Fawcett's 
 building which they occupied for many years. Professor Newton 
 at that time used the room now (1913) occupied by myself. 
 Professor Humphry had the room now labelled " Newton Room," 
 whilst J. had the one now occupied by Mr. Doncaster, the 
 present Superintendent of the Museum of Zoology. But as 
 neither the workrooms on the second floor nor those on the 
 ground floor were nearly ready, the department was for some 
 months in a state of great confusion. In September 1877 Mr. 
 Salvin first occupied the private room on the second floor which 
 has ever since been assigned to the Strickland Curator. Almost 
 opposite him Professor Humphry was at that time holding his 
 classes in microscopy in one of the two large class rooms facing
 
 276 y- ^i i^^ IMuseum of Zoology 
 
 north. Mr. Balfour occupied the other and also the eastern 
 room overlooking Corn Exchange Street. Mr. Bullar and Mr. 
 Bridge occupied the two rooms which have been now thrown 
 together to form our present Insect Room. 
 
 In 1877, the Prince of Wales gave to his old University the 
 skeleton of a fine tiger which he had shot during his recent 
 visit to India, and Mr. R. Lydekker of Trinity College 
 presented a valuable collection of Indian mammals. J. also 
 records that the Alaska Commercial Company, to whom the 
 Government of the United States had granted the rio-ht of 
 obtaining sealskins from the Pribvlov Islands in the Bering 
 Sea, had been good enough to present to the Museum skins 
 and skulls of the male, female, and pup of the Fur-seal. 
 
 Mr. Bullar resigned the office of Curator in Zoology in the 
 Easter term of 1878, and his successor was Mr. F. J. H. Jenkin- 
 son of Trinity College, now University Librarian, who only held 
 the office for a few months. He worked chiefly at the Insects, 
 and after his resignation proposed to examine and add to the 
 collection of Micro-Lepidoptera. As I shall narrate elsewhere,^ 
 the new rooms of the department of Zoology and Comparative 
 Anatomy had hardly been occupied when part of the top concrete 
 floor fell, and carried with it the intervening floors as it crashed 
 towards the ground. An inquii-y was held into the stability of 
 the building, and it was finally resolved to remove almost the 
 whole of the concrete floors and roof. The alterations were 
 completed by the end of January 1879, and J. took possession 
 of his workrooms shortly afterwards. He reports : " They are 
 extremely convenient in all respects, and the system of warm- 
 ing and ventilating, severely tested by the cold of last winter, 
 has been found to work well." 
 
 On more than one occasion J. mentions, in his Annual 
 Report, his assistant, William Stubbings, who for many years 
 was a well-known figure at the New Museums. He made I'ather 
 a speciality of the Fens, and from time to time presented 
 complete skeletons of fossil mammals, which he had found 
 
 ' See p. 308.
 
 3\darine 3\dammals 277 
 
 himself. In 1879 he gave the Museum a nearly complete 
 skeleton of a Red Deer, semi-fossilised. 
 
 Although I do not think that at this time J. was actually 
 engaged in teaching, he evidently took a keen interest in the 
 practical classes he had started, and he notes that both Mr. 
 Balfour's elementary and advanced classes continued to grow. 
 In 1878 they were attended by two Anjericans, the now distin- 
 guished Professors H. F. Osborn and W, B, Scott, who were 
 then members of the University, and by two or three ladies. 
 
 During the Long Vacation of 1879 Mr. A. C. Haddon of 
 Christ's College, now University Reader in Ethnology, was 
 appointed Curator in Zoology, and he at once took up the 
 arrangement of the Collection at the point where Mr. Bullar 
 had left it ; he specially devoted himself to arranging the 
 collection of bones of the extinct land-tortoises of the Mas- 
 carene Islands, which had been given to the University by 
 Edward Newton. He also rearranged and classified the 
 Ccelenterata, the Echinodermata, and the BracMopoda. Al- 
 though Professor Bridge had by this time been appointed 
 to his Chair at the Royal College of Science in Dublin, 
 he spent the summer and autumn in overhauling the fishes, 
 always his special hobby, and in making a large series of 
 their skeletons, and other preparations. Owing to the kind- 
 ness of Professor Flower, the Museum of the Royal College of 
 Surgeons presented this year a large specimen of the skeleton 
 of a male Crocodile, killed in Nubia by the Hon. Charles 
 P. F. Berkeley, and J. was again successful in obtaining a 
 skeleton of one of his favourite marine mammals, the white- 
 beaked Bottle-nose Lagenorhynchus albirostris. It must here 
 be mentioned that J. possessed a very complete collection of 
 books on Whales, in all languages and of all periods. This 
 year also the skeleton of the Bison honasus, which had been pre- 
 sented by the Emperor of Russia, through the good offices of 
 J.'s father-in-law. Sir Andrew Buchanan, British Ambassador 
 at the Russian Court, was articulated and placed in the 
 Museum. The frequent occurrence of this genus in the drift
 
 278 y-^t t^^ JHuseum of Zoology 
 
 in the neighbourhood of Cambridge, and the fact that the 
 skeletons of the Urus (Bos primigenus) are found from time 
 to time in our Fens, recalls the fact that these two species 
 ranged in Caesar's time over the whole of Central Europe. 
 
 In 1880 the two rooms in the central block of the building, 
 in which at first the teaching of Zoology and Physiology had 
 been carried on, were, by the removal of the archway to the 
 east, thrown into one, and the Council of the Philosophical 
 Society then submitted a proposal to place their Library there, 
 as the nucleus of a Central Scientific Library. The University 
 accepted the offer of the Council of the Society, and the 
 Philosophical Society's books were in September 1881 re- 
 moved into the large room on the ground floor, where they 
 now are. The University on its side undertook to provide a 
 certain portion of the stipend of a Library Clerk, and one of 
 the most useful institutions in the scientific life of Cambridge 
 was in working order by the end of the year. From that day 
 onwards the Library has been of ever-increasing value, both to 
 students and to teachers. 
 
 The Curatorship in Zoology was, for reasons I have already 
 given,^ a post which no one held for long. In the autumn of 
 1880, Mr. A. C. Haddon resigned and was appointed to the 
 Professorship of Zoology at the Royal College of Science at 
 Dublin, in succession to Professor Bridge, who had accepted a 
 Professorship at Mason's College, Birmingham. Mr. Haddon 
 had especially devoted himself to the exhibited Collection of 
 Invertebrata, and had illustrated many of them with coloured 
 drawings. He was succeeded by the Rev. A. H. Cooke, Fellow 
 of King's College, now Headmaster of Aldenham School, and 
 a specialist in the Mollusca, who immediately set to work to 
 overhaul, re-name, and re-catalogue the Woodward Collection 
 of Molluscs, and with these he incorporated the shells collected 
 by Mr. Hepburn, mainly from the West Coast of North and 
 Central America. The Collections were differentiated by means 
 of specially coloured labels. 
 
 ^ See p. 275.
 
 Fire at the Jduseums 279 
 
 During the year 1880 J. was especially occupied with 
 setting up the series of preparations illustrating the Anatomy 
 of the Manatee, a specimen of which had been presented by the 
 Directors of the Aquarium at Brighton. He was also occupied 
 in articulating a skeleton of the Musk Ox brought home by 
 the North German Polar Expedition eight years before. 
 
 The year 1881 was made memorable by a fire which broke 
 out owing to the accidental overflowing of some ignited spirit 
 in the spirit room. A porter, however, succeeded in extinguish- 
 ing it, and the damage was confined to the room in which it 
 had broken out. The outbreak of this fire naturally aroused 
 the interest of the authorities, who awoke to the fact that 
 hundreds of gallons of spirit of unknown inflammability, con- 
 taining specimens, were stored in the Museum of Zoology. A 
 sub-syndicate, of which Coutts Trotter and J. were members, 
 undertook to investigate the matter. J., who maintained that 
 the spirit would not ignite, applied a match to some 70 per 
 cent, spirit in a bowl. The spirit ignited, the bowl burst, 
 the flaming spirit flowed on the floor and over Coutts Trotter's 
 and J.'s trousers. The ample folds of Coutts Trotter's frock 
 coat helped to save J.'s legs though his trousers were burnt. 
 The fire spread through the floor to the ceiling of the 
 Physiological Laboratory below. The alarm was given, the 
 local fire brigade arrived, and those members of the University 
 who assisted in saving the building tell me that the burly form 
 of the Vice-Master of Trinity without a coat, and the active 
 form of J., clad in his old bowler hat, his cross-breasted tweed- 
 coat, elastic-sided boots, and what the hosiers call " gent's 
 stout merino pants," directing the operations of the Town 
 fire brigade, was a sight indelibly engraved on their memories. 
 The fire was soon extinguished and J., who bore his rather 
 serious burns with his usual courage, and Coutts Trotter went 
 home in blankets and four-wheelers. 
 
 About this time J. added to our collection of marine 
 mammals a skeleton of a Ringed Seal, a Bladder-nosed Seal, 
 and a Polar Bear, all presented by Captain Gray of Peterhead,
 
 2 8o y. at the 3\/[useum of Zoology 
 
 who had taken particular care in the killing and the pre- 
 paration of these specimens, so that not a single bone was 
 missing. The Museum was also enriched about this time by 
 a fine series of casts of extinct mammals from the Paris 
 Museum. Sir John Phear also presented a skeleton of an Indian 
 Elephant, and through the kind exertion of Sir Joseph Fayrer, 
 a skeleton, less perfect, of the same species was sent from 
 Calcutta. Lastly, Mr. Osbert Salvin, the Strickland Curator, 
 reports that he has at last finished the catalogue of the 
 Strickland Collection, which made an octavo volume of some 
 650 pages, and upon which he had been engaged almost since 
 his appointment in 1874. 
 
 When I came up in 1880 a class for Zoology was held in 
 the top room of Fawcett's first building, facing east and over- 
 looking Corn Exchange Street, which is now (1913) used for a 
 Chemical Class Room by the Department of Physiology. Here 
 we used to spend our time cutting Amphioxus, embedded in 
 cocoa-butter, into little slices under the supervision of Mr. 
 Balfour and of Mr, Adam Sedgwick. There were then no means 
 of sticking the sections in series on a slide, so the thin slices had 
 to be mounted, a few at a time, on a separate microscopic slide, 
 and the labour was considerable. It was in this room a year 
 or two later, when I first began to teach, that I heard our head 
 Laboratory Attendant, Mr. Brockett, on behalf of a pupil from 
 one of the Ladies' Colleges, repeatedly attack Adam Sedgwick, 
 who was at the moment enijajjed in a dissection which he felt 
 he could not, at the moment, relinquish. After a third or 
 fourth interruption Adam, whose temper was in those days 
 always within easy call, said, " Oh, tell Miss ' Chose ' to go to 
 the Devil." I was not best pleased a moment later to hear 
 Brockett, who is always a diplomatist, saying to the lady, " Mr. 
 Sedgwick, Miss, thinks you'd better see Mr. Shipley."" 
 
 On 31st May 1882, Mr. Balfour had been appointed to 
 the Professorship of Animal ]\Iorphology, which had been 
 especially created in recognition of the great work he had 
 done on that subject. By this time his classes were very
 
 The Indian EIepha?2t 281 
 
 considerable in size, the elementary class having- reached fifty, 
 while the advanced class numbered over twenty. 
 
 During 1882 J. was busy setting up the skeleton of Sir 
 John Phear's elephant, and the following extract from his 
 report is typical of the care he took to chronicle the origin of 
 Museum specimens : — 
 
 " The skeleton of a male Indian elephant, the arrival of 
 which was mentioned last year, has been cleaned and arranged 
 in the Museum ; in consequence of the care with which the 
 bones were prepared for transmission to Europe, under the 
 direction of Mr. A. Haly, of the Colombo Museum, the 
 skeleton is complete, and therefore far more interesting and 
 instructive than those usually exhibited in Museums. The 
 animal was shot by a member of the Ceylon Civil Service, 
 who has most kindly sent me the following extract from his 
 notebook respecting it : — ' The Yatiantota Tusker, a notorious 
 and proscribed rogue elephant (bull), that had done much 
 damage to life and pi'operty. It was shot 6th February 1881, 
 at Yakkela Kele (" forest of the devil's stream "), near Malal- 
 pola, eight miles from Ruanwela, in the Kegalle district. 
 Western Province, Ceylon. Height, 9 feet ; tusks, 4 feet 
 11| inches, and 4 feet 10 inches outside curve — weight, 75 lbs."" 
 Mr. Y. has retained the tusks as a trophy, but I have every 
 hope of obtaining casts of them." ^ 
 
 In 1883 Mr. Salvin resigned the position of Strickland 
 Curator, and to J.'s great regret left Cambridge ; he was 
 succeeded by Dr. Hans Gadow, and J. in his report mentions 
 that Dr. Gadow had already begun making dissections and 
 introducing new methods. 
 
 After Professor Balfour's tragic death in July 1882, 
 Professors Humphry, Newton, and P'oster, and J. addressed 
 a letter to the Vice-Chancellor, in September, urging the 
 necessity of carrying on the work which he had so wonderfully 
 
 ^ As Mr. Y., possibly owing to a deficient knowledge of Zoology, 
 i-etained the more valuable part of the skeleton, the tusks, it seems well 
 to suppress his name.
 
 282 y. at the 3\duseum of Zoology 
 
 begun. They suggested that the general supervision of the 
 class should be entrusted to Mr. Adam Sedgwick, who had 
 been Balfour's demonstrator for nearly five years, and had had 
 charge of the class during the Lent and May Terms, when 
 Professor Balfour had been ill. This was accordingly arranged, 
 and Mr. Sedgwick was able to secure the assistance of Mr. Walter 
 Heape of Trinity College, and of Mr. W. F. R. Weldon, B.A. 
 of St. John's, as demonstrators. Dr. Hans Gadow then began 
 the lectures, which are happily still given, on the Vertebrata. 
 Mr. R. Threlfall and Mr. W. H. Caldwell of Gonville and 
 Caius College were then at work on their new automatic 
 microtome, and the latter was requested by Professor Newton, 
 whose demonstrator he was, to help with the advanced lectures. 
 Mr. Sedgwick, in his first report, records the generous action 
 of the family of Professor Balfour, who gave to the Morpho- 
 logical Laboratory not only his very valuable scientific outfit, 
 but also his comprehensive Zoological Library. 
 
 In 1883, the Museum received two collections of the greatest 
 importance. One was a gift from Mr. H. B. Brady, F.R.S., 
 of his series of Foraminifera, " possibly one of the most ex- 
 tensive collections, taken all round, at present existing, the 
 result of about twenty years' work on that group of animals." 
 This collection arrived in instalments, and contained not only 
 recent forms, but a large number of fossils and models. 
 
 Towards the end of the same year the University found the 
 money to purchase, at a figure which hardly represented the 
 value of the jars and spirit, the specimens illustrating the 
 fauna of the Bay of Naples, which had been sent by Dr. 
 Anton Dohrn, of the " Stazione Zoologica " of Naples, to the 
 Fisheries Exhibition held that summer in South Kensington. 
 I well remember J.'s kindness in sending me up to negotiate 
 for the purchase and to arrange for the packing up of the 
 Collection, and I vividly recall the impression of infinite 
 dreariness which an Exhibition produces on the lay mind 
 when it is in the process of being dismantled. I had lately re- 
 turned from working at Naples, and that is probably why he
 
 The African Elephant 283 
 
 selected me. The Collection contained nearly three hundred 
 species of invertebrates, and thirty-eight species of fish. In 
 many cases numerous specimens represented the single species. 
 They had all been selected as " show " examples, were beauti- 
 fully preserved, and certainly added greatly to the inverte- 
 brate side of the Museum. The rearrangement and remounting 
 for display of the Dohrn Collection extended over two years. 
 
 About the same time J. obtained from the National Museum 
 of Washington two models, one of the Beluga or White Whale, 
 and the other of the Common Dolphin, and the skeleton and 
 several skulls of Australian cetaceans from Professor Liversidge 
 of Sydney, who had before befriended the Museum. He also 
 articulated and exhibited the skeleton of a Hyperoodon from 
 the Faroes, and the skeleton of a Casing Whale {Glohicephalus 
 melas) from Tasmania. 
 
 In 1884, the Museum received a fine adult Echidna {Pro- 
 echidna bruijnii) from the Arfak Mountains, New Guinea, and 
 also specimens of Ovis nivkola and Tarsius spech-um, which had 
 been obtained by Dr. Guillemard in the course of his cruise on 
 the yacht Marchesa in the Eastern seas. Till lately the first- 
 named species had been unrepresented in English museums, and 
 J. was able both to prepare the skeleton and to mount the skin. 
 In 1884, a complete specimen of an African elephant, shot 
 by Mr. Walter Heape in the Knysna forest, arrived at the 
 Museum, although it was not set up till the following year; 
 and the skeleton of the Red Deer (Cervus elaphus), which had 
 been found by William Stubbings ^ in Burwell Fen, was now 
 placed in the Museum. 
 
 Dr. Gadow, who was constantly working at the Bird 
 Collection, reports this year the addition of 89 species, collected 
 in Natal, from Major H. W. Feilden. He records that the 
 total number of specimens in his custody exceeded 7000, and 
 that the number of species under his charge amounted to some 
 4800, or more than one-third of the species at that time known 
 to science. 
 
 1 See pp. 276, 277.
 
 284 y* cit the JUtiseum of Zoology 
 
 By the end of 1885 the arrangement of the Dohrn Collec- 
 tion had been completed. Before then I had been appomted 
 Demonstrator to the Professor of Zoology and Comparative 
 Anatomy, and I had spent many afternoons assisting J. with 
 the rearrangement of these collections. Of course it must be 
 remembered that J."'s stipend as Superintendent, like so many 
 stipends in this University, was exiguous. He never was and 
 was never expected to be a " whole timer.'" He looked in for a 
 couple of hours a day, supervised his assistants, made us all 
 keen, and rushed off to other work. The additions to the 
 Museum were this year numerous and valuable ; amongst them 
 were a two-horned Rhinoceros and the skeleton of a Grampus 
 from the Australian seas. A fine group of Birds of Paradise, 
 also obtained from Dr. Guillemard, showing the interesting 
 differences of sex and age, was now being set up in the Bird 
 Room, and a series of typical preparations, illustrating in a 
 comparative way the various organs of birds, was being ar- 
 ranged by Dr. Gadow. 
 
 During the Long Vacation of 1886, J. began the task of 
 rearranging and cataloguing the whole of the exhibited portion 
 of the Invertebrata, in which task he was helped by Mr. S. F. 
 (later Dr.) Harmer of King's College. It was at that time 
 proposed to issue the catalogue, but this has never been done. 
 Its preparation served a useful purpose, however, in revealing 
 numerous hitherto unnoticed gaps in the collections. These 
 were, as far as possible, filled up, and the catalogue, though 
 unprinted, has been invaluable for reference. 
 
 ]Mr. Brady spent part of the summer of 188G and 1887 in 
 arranging the magnificent series of Foraminifera which he had 
 presented to the University, setting up for exhibition those 
 which he considered most suitable to a students' series. Each 
 specimen was beautifully mounted, and illustrated by the 
 enlarged drawings which had embellished his report of the 
 Challenger Foraminifera. 
 
 The Strickland Curator now presented to the Museum 
 a large collection of amphibia and reptiles which he had
 
 The Teve?tsey Whale 285 
 
 got together during the previous three years in Portugal. 
 These had formed the basis of an interesting paper which he 
 had prepared on the geographical distribution of animals in 
 that part of the Peninsula. About this time Sir Julius von 
 Haast enriched the Museum by a series of bones of the Moa 
 {Dinomis), from the Museum at Christchurch, New Zealand. 
 
 The skeleton of the African elephant shot by Mr. Heape 
 was now placed side by side with the Indian elephant in the 
 centre of the Museum. They are overhung by the skeleton 
 of the Pevensey Whale {Balaenoptera nnisculus) mentioned in 
 J.'s first annual report, dated 1867. The expense and the 
 care required for mounting so huge an object had caused 
 almost indefinite delay. At length Dr. Harmer, J.'s successor 
 as Superintendent, with the aid of Mr. W. E. Dal by of the 
 Engineering Laboratory, and <^100 from the Reserve Fund, 
 mounted the whale in 1896. Nothing is more striking in our 
 Museum, or more demonstrative of the enormous size to which 
 marine mammals may attain, than the fact that, as you look 
 down from the gallery of the Museum at these three monsters, 
 you become aware that the skeletons of the two elephants could 
 almost be placed side by side within the ribs of the whale. 
 
 The Syndicate had lately made a special grant for books 
 for the Curator in Zoology, who was steadily M'orking at the 
 MacAndrew Collection, as to which he reports : — " It is not 
 too much to say that probably no finer collection of European 
 shells — in the sense of being practically useful in illustrating 
 and establishing variation of species— exists in this country. 
 The British Museum has nothing to compare with it." Mr. 
 H. M. Gwatkin, now Dixie Professor of Ecclesiastical History, 
 who had made a special study of the radulas or lingual ribbons 
 of Molluscs, was finding and describing many new examples 
 amongst the dried remains of animals which formed part of 
 this collection. 
 
 In 1886, too, came a great increase in the number of bird- 
 skins. Largely through Mrs. H. E. Strickland, the University 
 was able to acquire a very considerable portion of the magni-
 
 2 86 y. at the 3V[useum of Zoology 
 
 ficent Collection of birds belonging to Sir William Jardine, 
 Bart. The total number of specimens received amounted to 
 over 2000, representing 900 species, of which 480 were new 
 to our collections. Mr. Gurney further presented 42 species, 
 and Professor Newton also added nearly 500 species on his own 
 behalf. Dr. Gadow reports that after this influx of birds, he 
 had nearly 20,000 specimens under his charge, representing 
 about 5000 different species, or nearly half the species of birds 
 known to exist. 
 
 During 1887 portions of the skeleton of the Steller's " Sea- 
 cow " {Wiytina gigas) was received in exchange from the United 
 States National Museum at Washington. It formed the sub- 
 ject of a most interesting historical sketch ^ by J. of the dis- 
 covery and extermination of this remarkable mammal. As an 
 example of the careful way J. used to describe in his annual 
 reports important additions to the Museum, I here quote his 
 account of the skeleton of the Rhytina., first exhibited in 
 1888 :— 
 
 " The principal addition to the Museum is the skeleton of 
 the extinct Northern Manatee {Rhytina gi gas). Our knowledge 
 of this huge Sirenian, which was restricted to Bering's Island, 
 off the coast of Kamschatka — is due to the German naturalist, 
 George William Steller, who accompanied Bering on his last 
 voyage. Their vessel was wrecked on the island, then unin- 
 habited, 5 November 1741. The Manatee was at that period 
 abundant all round the coast, but, after Steller's return, Russian 
 hunters, excited by the prospect of obtaining large cargoes of 
 skins of Fox, Sea Otter, and Sea Lion, with which the island 
 and those near it abounded, began to fit out expeditions. 
 Their vessels usually wintered on Bering"'s Island, ' in order to 
 procure a stock of salted provisions from the sea-cows (Manatees) 
 and other amphibious animals that are to be found there in great 
 abundance.' In consequence of this wholesale destruction, the 
 Rhytina became extinct in or about 1768. 
 
 " Steller's description of the animal was read to the St. 
 ^ Proc. Cam. Phil. Soc, vi., 1889, p. 340.
 
 The %hytma 287 
 
 Petersburg Academy in 1749; but he had been unable to 
 bring home any specimens, and all efforts to obtain bones 
 failed until 1844, when a broken skull, obtained on Bering's 
 Island, was brought to Professor Brandt. At present the island 
 is let by the Russian Government to the Alaska Commercial 
 Company, by whose permission the authorities of the National 
 Museum at Washington, U.S., have caused diligent search to 
 be made for bones of Rhytina^ with considerable success. 
 
 " As was briefly recorded in last year's report, Professor 
 Spencer F. Baird, at the instance of Professor Newton, sent 
 us such parts of a skeleton as could be spared for exchange. 
 The bones received were the following : skull ; third, fourth, 
 fifth, sixth, eighth, ninth, tenth, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, 
 fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth, dorsal vertebrae ; second and 
 third lumbar vertebrae ; fifth, seventh, eighth, ninth, thirteenth, 
 ribs of the left side ; fifteenth, seventeenth, ribs of the right 
 side ; right humerus ; right radius and ulna. As it would 
 have been impossible to articulate this series in such a manner 
 as to give any idea of the skeleton, I determined to obtain 
 restorations of the missing bones. Casts of the cervical 
 vertebrae and of one scapula were purchased from the late 
 Dr. Damon of Weymouth, the rest were modelled from the 
 nearly complete skeleton in the British Museum. The whole 
 restoration of the hands is conjectural, no portion of these 
 limbs having been as yet discovered. The skeleton, as mounted 
 in our Museum, is eighteen feet long." Later Dr. Guillemard 
 presented to the Museum the ear-bones which he had collected 
 in Bering's Island. 
 
 At the beginning of 1888, Mr. C. H. Russell, writing on 
 behalf of his mother, Lady Caroline Russell, offered to the 
 University the Collection of British Birds' Eggs made by the 
 late Mr. J. P. Wilmott, and bequeathed by him to Lady 
 Caroline's husband. This collection contained one specimen of 
 the Great Auk's egg, the one figured by Mr. Hewitson. I 
 do not know whether anyone except Professor Newton knew 
 at that time how many Great Auk's eggs there were in the
 
 2 88 y. at the 3\4useum of Zoology 
 
 University collections. We used (a favoured few) to be shown 
 from time to time a drawer containing a considerable number, 
 but some of these were models or forgeries, and how many were 
 genuine and how many false we were never told. 
 
 In September 1888, Mr. Brady again visited Cambridge 
 to re-arrange his Foraminifera in the new cabinet which had 
 been provided for them, and this year also Mr. Warburton, 
 of Chrisfs College, added to the Invertebrate Collection a verv 
 complete series of British Spiders, which he had mounted and 
 illustrated by sketches showing the principal peculiarities of 
 each species. 
 
 In his annual report of this year, J. draws attention to 
 the overcrowding of the Museum, aud the necessity for ex- 
 tension. In the same report Dr. Gadow records the death of 
 Mrs. Strickland in August 1888. She had been a constant 
 friend to the Museum, not only by her ever generous gifts, 
 but by the incessant and pious care which she bestowed upon 
 the efficient preservation and cataloguing of the Strickland 
 Collection. 
 
 At Christmas 1889, Mr. Cooke resigned his position as 
 Cm-ator of the MacAndrew Collection, but he continued for 
 a time to reside in Cambridge, and the University recognised 
 the conscientious work he had done by conferring on him the 
 title of Honorary Curator of the MacAndrew Collection. He 
 was succeeded by Dr. David Sharp, who held office until 1909. 
 The arrival of so eminent an entomologist in Cambridge gave 
 a great impetus to the study of Insects, and a special room 
 was now set apart for an Entomological Department, on the 
 top floor, next to the room assigned to the Strickland Curator. 
 Some years ago a second room was added to this by re- 
 moving the partition wall. This enlarged room is, however, 
 totally inadequate to house properly the extensive collections 
 belonging to the University, or to afford accommodation for 
 the students who wish to work there. 
 
 In 1889 the Stewart Collections of skulls and horns were 
 for the first time exhibited in the Museum, and a valuable
 
 The ^ird Collection 289 
 
 skeleton of the Jamaica Seal {Monachus tropicalis) presented 
 by Dr. F. Du Cane Godman of Trinity College, was articulated 
 and placed in the Museum. This species was hitherto " known 
 only by a skin without skeleton, from Jamaica, preserved 
 in the British Museum. In 1886 Don Ferrari Perez, Director 
 of the Museum of Natural History, Mexico, chartered a small 
 vessel and sailed from Campeche to a group of uninhabited 
 islands in the Gulf of Mexico, called Los Triangelos. He 
 stayed there for several days, and brought away with him 
 a considerable number of specimens. Our skeleton was pur- 
 chased of Mr. Ward, an American taxidermist settled in Mexico, 
 who accompanied the expedition." 
 
 As a sign of the value of the material lying almost hidden 
 in the Bird-room, I quote three sentences from the Strickland 
 Curator's report for 1889 : — 
 
 "The Osteological Collection has been completely re- 
 arranged, and rendered more accessible to scientific visitors; 
 the bones of each specimen, unless the skeleton be mounted 
 and exhibited in the show-cases, are lodged in separate glass- 
 topped boxes. The Collection now comprises the bones of 
 at least 820 specimens, representing about 450 different species 
 of birds, many of which are extremely rare, or even unique. 
 Not only in actual value, but also in extent, this Collection com- 
 pares favourably with those of most other museums, both at 
 home and abroad, especially if we take into account the 
 numerous skeletal preparations which are preserved in spirit, 
 and form a particularly valuable feature of the Cambridge 
 Museum." 
 
 In 1890 J. was planning to transfer the whole of the 
 Invertebrate Collection to the long gallery on the east side 
 of the Museum, which had hitherto been used as a temporary 
 laboratory for the classes in microscopical work in connection 
 with the Department of Physiology. This Collection had been 
 lately much increased by Mr. H. B. Brady, who had bequeathed 
 to the Museum the remainder of his Collections. In this year 
 also Colonel Feilden presented his Collection of Birds from 
 
 T
 
 290 y' ^i t^^ Museum of Zoology 
 
 Barbados, whilst other specimens were continually arriving from 
 many generous donors. 
 
 We have now come to the parting of the ways. J. was 
 elected Registrary in 1891, and, although he could not at 
 once give up his duties at the Museums owing to certain 
 necessary alterations in the posts he held, he wrote his letter 
 of resignation to the Vice-Chancellor without delay. In his 
 report for 1890 he makes a farewell statement : — 
 
 " I have placed in the hands of the Vice-('hancellor my 
 resignation of the office of Superintendent of the Museum, 
 which I have held for exactly twenty-five years. In writing 
 this, ray last report, I wish, in the first place, to thank the 
 Syndicate for the uniform kindness I have experienced at their 
 hands, and for the liberality with which they have increased 
 the Collection and provided adequate appliances for its dis- 
 play. It would, I think, be difficult, if not impossible, to find 
 any Museum out of London so rich in specimens necessary 
 for educational purposes, or in which the objects displayed 
 are seen to such advantage. It would be absurd to affect 
 indifference at leaving the post to which I have been so long 
 attached, and in holding which I have been supported by 
 the cordial co-operation of all those with whom I have been 
 brought in contact ; but I am consoled by the belief that my 
 resignation will promote the best interests of an institution 
 which I have learnt to regard as almost my own. A younger 
 Superintendent is now necessary, one who will bring to the 
 discharge of his duties a more thorough knowledge of the 
 present state of science, and of what is required to fulfil 
 the exceptional conditions of a University Collection. I need 
 hardly add that I shall be always ready to give help and 
 information to my successor." 
 
 But a far longer period than was anticipated elapsed before 
 the future constitution of the Registraryship could be ar- 
 ranged, and he held both the Superintendentship and the 
 Secretaryship of the Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate
 
 y.'s T^e sign at ion 291 
 
 until the end of 1891, being assisted in the duties of the 
 former post during the Easter and Michaehiias Terms and the 
 Long Vacation by Mr. J. J. Lister of St. John's College. Mr. 
 Lister devoted his time to a thorough revision of the exhibited 
 portion of the Invertebrate Collection, adding many new 
 specimens, and revising the MS. Catalogue. 
 
 The galleries mentioned above were now being gradually 
 filled with what J. calls "a noble series of Invertebrata," and 
 the cabinets of Insects which had hitherto been scattered 
 through different parts of the building were now brought 
 together in one room. It was whilst these changes, which had 
 been unduly prolonged by a strike of workmen in Cambridge, 
 were taking place, that J. handed over his collections into the 
 capable hands of Dr. S. F. Harmer of King's College. 
 
 In writing his first Annual Report to the Syndicate, the new 
 Superintendent commences with the following words: — 
 
 " I can hardly begin my first Report to the Syndicate in 
 any other way than by calling attention to the indebtedness 
 of the University to Mr. J. W. Clark, the retiring Superin- 
 tendent. It would be difficult to overestimate the extent 
 of the services rendered to the Museum by Mr. Clark, whose 
 labours in connection with the Department of Zoology during 
 the past twenty-five years have placed the University in posses- 
 sion of a Museum which, in respect to its utility as a Teaching 
 Museum at least, is probably second to none in the kingdom. 
 1 beg leave to record here my warm appreciation of the work 
 of my predecessor, Mr. Clark has signalised his retirement 
 by a most generous present to the Museum,^ in the form of 
 a large case which is being placed on the south side of the 
 gallery. This case is destined to receive a large part of the 
 collection of Fishes which, with the Amphibia and Reptilia, 
 are to be transferred to the gallery, in accordance with 
 Mr. Clark's own plan. This alteration has been made 
 
 ^ He also bequeathed his extensive Library of Voyages and Travels 
 to the University to be placed under the charge of the Museums and 
 Lecture Rooms Syndicate.
 
 292 y, at the 3[Iuseum of Zoology 
 
 possible by the removal of the Invertebrate Collections to the 
 gallery on the east side of the Museum, as explained in his 
 Report." 
 
 In twenty-five years J. had built up a stately, well-furnished 
 Museum of Zoology and Comparative Anatomy. Starting 
 with the faunistic collections of the Philosophical Society, and 
 the physiological and osteological specimens, very largely got 
 together by the Professors of Anatomy, he had weeded out, 
 developed, rearranged, and increased the Collections until 
 when he left them they were indeed a noble instrument 
 for instruction. There were of course helpers. Professor 
 Newton's left hand never knew what his right hand was 
 doing in the matter of adding specimens to the INIuseums. 
 Under Dr. Gadow the Bird Room flourished mightily. Mr. 
 Cooke, and later Dr. Sharp, with the sympathy but without 
 the interference of the Superintendent, made the most of 
 their departments. The net result was the Museum of 1891. 
 
 J. was not, of course, a skilled anatomist, or a very learned 
 zoologist : he had not had the training ; but he knew enough 
 of both sciences to make a success of the Museum under his 
 charge. Had he been more of a specialist, I do not think the 
 Collections would have grown as fast as they did or in so many 
 directions. He was very accurate in recording all new acquisi- 
 tions, and he kept most careful catalogues. He was here as 
 in other walks of life a good collector, and these characters 
 encouraged many to place their treasured accumulations under 
 his charge. He was clever at displaying a specimen so that 
 it taught a lesson, and he was most anxious that we should go 
 and see it when it was mounted. Once a year he held a little 
 Exhibition of the specimens prepared during the previous 
 twelve months, and this was both stimulating and instructive. 
 It has now been given up — a loss, in my opinion, to the teacher 
 and to the taught. 
 
 J. did not cater only for the undergraduate. His ambition, 
 which Professor Newton fully shared, was that the Museum of 
 Zoology and Comparative Anatomy should afford material
 
 Trofessor a?id S up eri?it evident 293 
 
 for the expert, and many of the big Collections which came 
 to Cambridge in J.'s time have done this. He sympathised 
 with Mrs. Strickland's desire that the Collection ^ she gave the 
 University should aid the professed naturalist. 
 
 Two such strong-willed men as the Professor and the 
 Superintendent did not — in the nature of things — always "hit 
 it oft'." The Professor felt very strongly on a variety of 
 subjects. To take one instance, he was convinced that the 
 proper background for objects of Natural History, whether 
 stuffed or in spirit, was a peculiar, rather washy bluish-slate 
 colour. And there it is in many of our show-cases to-day. 
 You didn't argue with the Professor; you couldn't. His 
 attitude was, " Fm not arguing with you, Fm telling 
 you," and in many cases he was telling you right. Still it 
 saved friction and its consequence, heat, when J. established 
 the preparation room on the top storey of Fawcetfs Building, 
 and the Professor first saw the new specimens all complete and 
 set up. When so seen there was often acquiescence and in 
 many cases approval. 
 
 During the quarter of a century that J. was Superintendent 
 he relied largely on two servants : one, William Stubbings, who 
 has been mentioned more than once ; the other, Walter Robin- 
 son, upon whom a pension was conferred by the Syndicate the 
 year J. left. Both were devoted to J., whose interest in their 
 work never flagged, and when he had retired to the Registry he 
 still kept this interest, and would drop in for a few minutes 
 three or four times a week to see what skeleton Ernest Lane, 
 the successor of Stubbings, was articulating, or what spirit 
 specimen Arthur Corby, who had been recently appointed to 
 mount the Invertebrates, was preparing, and generally to over- 
 look what was going on. 
 
 » See p. 260.
 
 APPENDIX II 
 
 J. AS SECRETARY TO THE MUSEUMS AND LECTURE 
 
 ROOMS SYNDICATE 
 
 When I first remember J. at the Museums in 1881 he had 
 a double function. He was Superintendent of the Museum 
 of Zoology and Comparative Anatomy, and he was Secretary 
 to the Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate. The Museums 
 and Lecture Rooms Syndicate had been instituted in 1866, and 
 it was then a most auojust bod v. The followincr were its first 
 members: Dr. James Cartmell, V.C, Master of Christ's Col- 
 lege ; Dr. H. W. Cookson, Master of Peterhouse ; Dr. W. H. 
 Bateson, Master of St. John's College; Professor (later Sir) 
 George E. Paget; Professor (later Sir) George G. Stokes; 
 Professor G. D. Liveing ; Dr. S. G. Phear, afterwards Master 
 of Emmanuel ; Mr. J. Power, afterwards Master of Pembroke; 
 and Mr. J. W. Clark, 
 
 I have related elsewhere how I first met J., who in the early 
 eighties was a kind of maid-of-all-work at the Museums, collect- 
 ing fees for other people, helping to organise new departments, 
 looking after his Museum, arranging the Philosophical Library, 
 correcting what he used to call the " grosser errors " in the 
 English of the Reports and other documents sent in by the 
 several Professors or Curators, settling little disputes between 
 Departments, and generally " keeping things going." The 
 collection of lecture fees occasionally led to misunderstandings. 
 I well remember a Trinity undergraduate, of a genial and 
 chatty disposition, who having paid down his three guineas for 
 Foster's Lectures, said as he was leaving the room, " I suppose 
 you make a pretty good thing out of this. Sir ! " 
 
 I was first put on the Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate 
 
 294
 
 y, and the T^rofessors 295 
 
 in 1889, and being comparatively new to University business I 
 found the work interesting but at times quite bewildering. The 
 meetings were often long and almost always lively. In the 
 days when J. was Secretary, the plan ot allowing each Depart- 
 ment an annual sum — in fact a budget — had not been devised, 
 and each bill of each Department — there were far fewer then ^ — 
 was brought before the Syndicate and solemnly considered. 
 We all tried to be intelligent, and to consider whether 
 or not such an expenditure by the particular Department was 
 justifiable; as a rule we thought it was, and then the Vice- 
 Chancellor initialled the account. After a certain moment J. 
 suddenly announced that we had exhausted the money at our 
 disposal, and I supposed the uninitialled bills went back to those 
 who had sent them in. 
 
 J, kept us all going by his running comments on men and 
 things, especially on those whom he considered to be what he 
 called " advanced." He used to affect a certain mild con- 
 tempt for professors, a feeling which no one who had not 
 been born of one and spent his childhood surrounded by others 
 could possibly entertain. He enjoyed correcting their English 
 and their orthography, and I think he enjoyed still more 
 letting the Syndicate know that he had done so. On one 
 occasion I well remember his blurting out, " Of course, Professor 
 Z. behaved with his usual c — .'"' Whether it was "care- 
 lessness " or " casualness " we shall never know, for the revered 
 Vice-Chancellor, who was sleeping in the Chair, caught him on 
 the initial C with a sonorous " Courtesy," and this without 
 the intermission of a single nod. 
 
 As Secretary to the Syndicate J. had much to do with the 
 management of two most useful funds : the Reserve Fund, 
 which was established in 1883 to meet emergencies and to 
 provide apparatus unexpectedly wanted ; and the Microscope 
 Fund, founded by the University in 1884 to provide certain 
 Departments with simple and compound microscopes. He was 
 also titular Librarian of the Philosophical Library, and a most 
 
 ^ I mean Departments, not bills.
 
 296 y. as Secretary to the [Museums 
 
 generous benefactor to that institution. The first time the 
 Philosophical Library Committee published a list of gifts in the 
 Annual Report of 1881, the number of publications, many of 
 them in series, given by J. occupies three and a half pages of 
 the Reporter. 
 
 From his lifelong connexion with the University J. had a 
 remarkable knowledge and grasp of procedure. He knew 
 exactly what you could do and what you could not do, and it 
 cannot be concealed that in many small matters he not infre- 
 quently did what you could not do. He was an adept at addressing 
 the Senate on paper; as he used to put it, he " understood their 
 jargon," and he certainly drew up more and abler reports than 
 anyone I remember. But then he took infinite pains. Time 
 after time I have known him draft a report which seemed 
 admirable, yet it did not satisfy him, and he would take it home 
 and appear with it next morning recast and rewritten. 
 
 One conspicuous feature of J.'s life at the Museums, and 
 indeed at home, was the devotion he inspired in the attendants 
 and laboratory assistants. In the earlier days of the Museums 
 and Lecture Rooms Syndicate many more servants were directly 
 engaged and paid by that body than was the case later on. 
 When the system of a budget was introduced, the appointment 
 of all servants, except the porters, passed into the hands of 
 the Heads of Departments. In consequence the great majority 
 of the servants have had latterly comparatively little to do 
 with the Syndicate, but in J.'s time it was otherwise. He 
 knew and knew well a large number of them, but especially he 
 knew the assistants at the Museum of Zoology and the porters. 
 Of course he was petulant and at times irascible with them ; 
 but the attendants knew that in a short time the storm would 
 blow over, and that beneath this " sound and fury " beat the 
 heart of a real friend. In any time of sickness or trouble J. 
 visited them at their homes, carrying with him some flowers or 
 soup or jelly or anything that their condition indicated. For 
 many years after he had left the Museums, the senior servants, 
 those of his time, turned first to him in time of trouble.
 
 y. as Secretary 297 
 
 When the Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate was 
 started in 1866, J., as is mentioned above, was a Syndic. The 
 same year he received his first University appointment, that 
 of Superintendent of the Museum of Zoology and Comparative 
 Anatomy, which he held for five-and-twenty years. Apparently, 
 in the early days of the Syndicate, the existing Vice-Chancellor 
 who presided at the meetings also acted as Secretary. In 1880 
 J. became Secretary at the request of the Syndicate, and in 
 1883 he was formally appointed by Grace of the Senate to the 
 office, to which a small stipend was now attached. 
 
 J. of course knew, and knew well, the Old Physic Garden 
 as a botanic garden. When he first used to work in a desultory 
 fashion in his father's museum, the only buildings on the site — 
 if we except the greenhouses — were the mean row of rooms 
 erected for the Professors of Botany, and for the Jacksonian 
 Professor in 1786, a couple of rooms added to the Jacksonian 
 Professor's in 1833, and the dismal Octagon (1832-3) which 
 housed his father's Department. When J. on becoming Regis- 
 trary resigned the Secretaryship in 1891, Salvin's huge block, 
 housing Zoology, Botany, Mineralogy, part of Physiology, the 
 Philosophical Library, the Mathematical Professors, the Jack- 
 sonian Professor, Morphology and at one time Pathology, the 
 Cavendish Laboratory, a considerable part of the Engineering 
 Schools and of the Chemical Laboratory, and the new buildings 
 for Human Anatomy and Physiology along Corn Exchange 
 Street were all complete. Further, the site has been so in- 
 creased from time to time that Dr. Walker's original garden 
 was now bounded, east, west, and south, by public thoroughfares. 
 
 In all that these extensions represented J. had a full share. 
 But when he resigned his official posts at the Museums, he in 
 no sense resigned his interest in what provision the University 
 could make for the furtherance of Science. Lentil the last few 
 months of his life he showed an active interest in all the many 
 buildings that were and are still being erected. As so much of 
 his life was centred in the Museums, and as no one outside and 
 very few inside — owing to the gradual growth of the buildings
 
 298 y. as Secretary to the 3\duseums 
 
 and the concentration of each of us on our own work — appreciate 
 what Cambridge has done for science in the last forty-six years, 
 I have set forth as shortly as possible the history of the Museums 
 in this Appendix.^ 
 
 That this wonderful range of buildings, each specialised 
 to a high degree to one particular object, should have arisen 
 within forty-six years in an ancient University believed by three- 
 quarters of the world to be still solely the home of mediieval 
 learning, is very largely due to the sympathetic attitude of 
 those who represent what are called the older studies. At 
 Cambridge the classic, the theologian, the historian, the 
 literary man, the philosopher has ever helped — often most 
 unselfishly — the Science School ; and Natural Science owes to 
 them a debt of gratitude which cannot be adequately put into 
 words. 
 
 But the great outburst of building which began at the end 
 of the last century, and which still continues, was only rendered 
 possible by the funds collected by the Cambridge University 
 Association, whose initiation the University owes to the genius 
 of Mr. E. H. Parker, and whose steadv success in raising- funds 
 is largely due to their Secretary, Mr. H. A. Roberts, and 
 to J. himself 
 
 History of the Mtiseums 
 
 After many attempts to find a suitable site for a Botanic 
 Garden, the Rev. Richard Walker, D.l)., then Vice-Master of 
 Trinity College, in 1760 " pitched upon and purchased the Manor 
 house in Free School Lane (formerly part of an old monastery),^ 
 with near five acres of garden about it, well walled round, quite 
 open to the south," and conveyed it to the University. The 
 area was, roughly speaking, rectangular, and the sides faced 
 the quarters of the compass. It was bounded on the west side 
 facing Free School Lane by a range of houses which at their 
 
 1 I deal here only with the site and the buildings, not with the Collec- 
 tions and the courses of lectures. As far as possible I have omitted names. 
 ^ Augustinian.
 
 Dr. JValker 299 
 
 southern end made a " return " to the east. The Perse School 
 was at this end of the range, while the Perse Almshouses 
 constituted the " return " block and faced south. Some of 
 the interesting rooms of the Old Perse School are still incorpo- 
 rated in the present Engineering School, and only in 1912 the 
 Perse Headmaster's house was pulled down to make room for 
 an extension of the Engineering Laboratory.^ Running north 
 along Free School Lane there were other houses, until finally 
 on the site of the latest extension of the Cavendish Laboratory, 
 the Rayleigh wing, there was a single house fronting the lane 
 " situated just behind the east end of St. Benett's Church and 
 Corpus Christi College." This was known in the eighteenth 
 century as " The Great House," and here Dr. Walker directed 
 that the room on the ground floor should be appropriated for 
 the reading of lectures on Botany, and an unfurnished room 
 upstairs was to be set apart for the reception of books on 
 Botany and for the housing of the Hortus siccus; and here on 
 Monday, 18th April 1763, as the Cambridge Chronicle records, 
 " at the Great House in Free Schole Lane, a course of lectures 
 in Botany will be given by T. Martin, M.A., Prof. 
 
 " The first course two guineas, the second course one guinea, 
 ever after gratis. The lectures will begin exactlv at 2 oY-lock. 
 
 " Note. — The Professor intends to read gratis to those who 
 subscribe ten guineas towards the support of the Botanic 
 Garden." 
 
 On the northern side of our square the Botanic Garden was 
 bounded on the west by the estate of Mr. Mortlock, and on the 
 east by land now in the possession of the Corporation of Cam- 
 bridge, on part of which the present Corn Exchange stands.^ 
 Turning south again from the north-east corner there stood a 
 series of warehouses and slaughter-houses, which were subse- 
 
 o 
 
 ' Tliis house was occupied by recent Headmasters until the school was 
 moved to its present site^ but it was not the original house of the Perse 
 Headmaster. See also p. 300. 
 
 - The former Corn Exchange is the present " Arcade," now a bicycle 
 shop and motor-car garage and printing works.
 
 300 y, as Secretary to the 3\4useums 
 
 quently bought by the University, and which extended as far 
 south as the angle of St. Andrew's Hill and Corn Exchange 
 Street. The southern border of the Gardens was bounded by 
 what are now known as Pembroke and Downing Streets, and 
 along this frontier there were no houses. Diagonally across the 
 southern part of this site from under the Perse Almshouses ran 
 the King's Ditch, or watercourse, which still emerges from the 
 old Botanic Garden site, a little to the south of the modern 
 entrance to the Museums from Corn Exchange Street. The 
 area which was left to the south of this ditch was then known 
 as Tainter's Yard. 
 
 A range of greenhouses were the first buildings put up. 
 They are shown in one of Ackerman's coloured prints with 
 King's College Chapel towering in the background, and were 
 erected along the northern confines of the area, very much in 
 the position where the southern entrance of the present 
 Examination Rooms now stands. 
 
 In 1784 the site of the " Great House " was sold to Mr. 
 Mortlock, and it became necessary for the University to find a 
 new lecture room for the Professor of Botany. The Jacksonian 
 Professor, whose Chair had been established in the pre- 
 vious year, had as yet no lecture room, and from the nature 
 of Richard Jackson's bequest it seemed appropriate that the 
 Professor should deliver his lectures in or near the Botanic 
 Garden. A Syndicate was therefore appointed, which ulti- 
 mately recommended, and the Senate finally approved, the 
 erection of a series of low buildings over the south-east corner 
 of the site in the position now partially vacant and partially 
 occupied by the Humphry Museum and the Medical Schools. 
 The building put up in 1786 contained a lecture room 45 feet 
 by 40 feet, and private rooms for the Professor of Botany at 
 the end facing south, and for the Jacksonian Professor at the 
 northern end. 
 
 At that time the entrance to the Botanic Garden from 
 Free School Lane was a small Renaissance archway, taken down 
 when the present Cavendish Laboratory was erected, and re-
 
 The Old T^hysic Garde7i 301 
 
 constructed within that building. This gateway is by far the 
 most beautiful, one might say the only beautiful, thing we 
 have at the Museums, but I have never known anyone look 
 at it. It was situated about where the original Cavendish 
 Laboratory now joins the Kayleigh wing. On the right of 
 the archway stood the Curator''s house. There was a second 
 entrance to the Botanic Gardens on the south side, just to the 
 east of the Perse Almshouses, but this was later replaced by a 
 pair of handsome wrought-iron gates about the centre of the 
 southern boundary.^ This iron gateway gave access to a broad 
 gravel-path which led straight across the garden to the centre 
 of the above-mentioned range of greenhouses. At one point 
 this path crossed a narrow pond running east and west, thus 
 cutting the garden into four squares. These squares were 
 occupied with herbaceous and hardy plants, arranged after 
 their kind in parallel beds running north and south. 
 
 As far back as 1696 efforts were being made to extend and 
 improve the University Press, mainly at the instigation of the 
 Duke of Somerset, who was elected Chancellor in 1688. A 
 second or new printing house was then built to the north of 
 the old printing house, which occupied part of the site of the 
 present lodge and garden of the jMaster of St. Catharine''s 
 College. In 1696 this area was or had been the garden of 
 Queens'" College. This new printing house was used by the 
 Press until 1716, when it was made over to the Professors 
 of Anatomy and of Chemistry, because in the words of the 
 Grace " it was of no use to the University for any other pur- 
 pose." (AcaderjncB aliogtdn hifruchwstcm.) But the "modern 
 building," as it was then called, was inconvenient and inade- 
 quate, there was no possibility of extension, and in 1786 
 the Professor of Chemistry was lecturing and using the new 
 room of the Jacksonian Professor on the Botanic Garden site. 
 
 ^ These gates, when the recent extension to the Chemical Laboratory 
 was built, were taken down and re-erected as an entrance to the present 
 Botanic Gardens in Trunipiugton Road.
 
 302 y- ^^ Secretary to the 3V[useums 
 
 The Professor of Anatomy, however, continued to lecture 
 and demonstrate in Queens' Lane, but the dearth of lecture 
 rooms was so great that his territory was invaded by both the 
 Professor of Physics and the Professor of Modern History. 
 
 There was no provision made for Mineralogy when the 
 Professorship was established in 1808, and Geology continued 
 until 1840 to occupy, as Professor Sedgwick tells us, a room 
 " small, damp, and ill-lighted, and utterly unfitted for a resi- 
 dence or a lecture room." This is the room now known to 
 some members of the Senate as the Novel Room, situated at 
 the northern end of the Arts Schools. The congestion however 
 was becoming increasingly acute, and in 1831 a Syndicate 
 was appointed to consider further provision for the various 
 sciences. The following year they reported that " they con- 
 sider sufficient accommodation may be secured to the Professor 
 of Chemistry by a slight addition to the northern extremity 
 of the building now standing on the Botanic Garden " (at 
 present — 1913 — this site is vacant); and they also recom- 
 mended that a triangular area between the private room of 
 the Professor of Botany and the angle made by Downing Street 
 and Corn Exchange Street should be set apart for the erec- 
 tion of buildings for the use of the Professor of Anatomy. 
 Here the new buildings for Chemistry and Anatomy were 
 put up in 1832-3, and with the rooms mentioned above the 
 building sufficed for nearly forty years for the Professors 
 of Botany, Chemistry, Physics, Anatomy, and of Applied 
 Physics the then title of the Jacksonian Professorship. The 
 building for Anatomy was the Octagon, so familiar to many 
 of us. It included a museum, a small dissecting room, 
 a lecture room, and one or two private rooms. The total 
 cost seems to have been about =£^3630. 
 
 In the early thirties it was decided to move the Botanical 
 Garden ; the site of the old garden had proved to be too small, 
 its soil had become exhausted, and it was surrounded by houses 
 on three sides. A private Act of Parliament (1 William IV, 
 cap. 5) which received the Royal Assent in 1831 enabled the
 
 The JA(Vw '^otmiic Garde?! 303 
 
 University to obtain by exchange with the Master and Fellows 
 of Trinity Hall the site of the existing Botanic Garden on the 
 Trumpington Road, but no immediate change could be made, 
 for certain leases did not expire until 1844. Even then the 
 transference of the plants, etc., to the new site took six years, 
 from 1846 to 1852. 
 
 In 1830 proposals had been made to permit the trustees 
 of Dr. Walker"'s garden to dispose of it, for the purpose of 
 a market place or for any other purpose which might seem 
 advisable. One suggestion was that it should be the site of 
 the County Courts. Fortunately nothing could be done until 
 the new ground came into the possession of the University ; 
 and by that time the near approach of the first examination 
 for the Natural Sciences Tripos, which was held in 1851, made 
 it evident not only that the Collections entrusted to the charge 
 of the Professors were of ever-increasing importance, but that 
 the number of students of Natural Science was likely largely 
 to increase. A Syndicate was therefore appointed to prepare 
 a scheme for legally acquiring the site from the trustees of 
 Dr. Walker's garden, and in 1853 the Court of Chancery 
 vested the ground in the Chancellor, Masters, and Scholars 
 of the University on the consideration of a payment of 
 =^3448, 4*. 4c?. to the trustees of the garden. 
 
 The same Syndicate then proceeded to consider how the 
 site now at their disposal could best be utilised. They 
 found that a new building should be erected for the accom- 
 modation of the Lucasian, the Plumian, the Lowndean, and 
 the Jacksonian Professors, and for the Professors of Botany, 
 Chemistry, and Mineralogy, including certain lecture rooms 
 necessary for these seven Professors, of which the Syndicate 
 assumed " that two at least may lecture during two terms, 
 and the remaining five during one term"! Assuming this, 
 they thought three lecture rooms would suffice for all the 
 Professors. In their report the Syndicate go into very great 
 detail as to the arrangement and allocation of the various 
 rooms which they suggest the University should erect.
 
 304 y- ^^ Secretary to the 3VIusetims 
 
 Schemes were prepared which would have cost over ■£'23,000, 
 to meet which the University had not more than £-"5000, and 
 the whole plan was therefore delayed until 1860, when further 
 funds became available. 
 
 In 1860 new plans, largely drawn up by Professor Willis, were 
 put forward and met with a good deal of opposition, and there 
 was much criticism, consideration, and reconsideration, all of 
 which is minutely set forth in the Architectural History ; but 
 eventually in 1863 the block of buildings which has always 
 been associated with the name of the architect, Mr. Salvin, 
 was commenced. Salvin 's building formed three sides of a 
 square with an opening towards the north. The east side of 
 the square was allotted to the Museum of Comparative 
 Anatomy, and its erection was only rendered possible by J.'s 
 father offering to lend the amount of its cost, oP2364, at a 
 nominal rate of interest. South of this was the lecture-room 
 of Comparative Anatomy ; and above that the room at first 
 called the Museum of Zoology, but now known as the Bird- 
 room. The building included the present Philosophical 
 Library, while the floor immediately over it was allocated until 
 recently to the Professors of Mathematics. West of the 
 Philosophical Library building was the Botany lecture-room 
 shared by the Jacksonian l*rofessor, now temporarily assigned 
 to the Department of Engineering; and running northwards 
 on the western side of the quadrangle were rooms for Botany 
 on the ground floor and Mineralogy on the first floor, the 
 former now occupied by the Engineering Department. Still 
 further west of the Botany Lecture Room were two four-square 
 private rooms assigned to the Jacksonian Professor. Many 
 years later these rooms were occupied by JMr. (now Sir) Francis 
 Darwin and by Mr. Blackman as a laboratory for Physiological 
 Botany. They are now part of the Engineering Laboratory. 
 
 This Salvin building, which cost some =£'20,000, was be- 
 ginning to come into use just about the time when J. took 
 up the duties of Superintendent of the Museum of Zoology. 
 
 J., as we have seen, was a member of the first Museums and
 
 The Cavendish Laboratory 305 
 
 Lecture Rooms Syndicate, and was many times re-elected. 
 Later he became Secretary to the Syndicate, and in either 
 capacity he took the greatest interest in all new buildings 
 committed to their charge. He sat on all the Syndicates 
 charged with their erection and equipment, was indefatigable 
 in helping things on, and from his quick power of appreciating 
 a difficulty or drafting a Report, and his equally great 
 knowledge of Museum-fittings and of the ways of the Uni- 
 versity, was of the greatest service in the conduct of all 
 business relating to new extensions. 
 
 In 1868, owing to alterations in the schedule of the Mathe- 
 matical Tripos Examination, it became necessary for the 
 University to provide further and better teaching in Heat, 
 Electricity, and Magnetism: and, early in 1871, a Cavendish 
 Professorship of Experimental Physics was established. On 
 8th March of the same year, James Clerk Maxwell was elected 
 the first Professor, and was immediately added to the Syndicate 
 then considering the erection of a Physical Laboratory. The 
 seventh Duke of Devonshire — Chancellor from 1861 till 1892 — 
 had most generously offered to bear the cost (about o£^10,000) 
 of this building, which was afterwards known as the Cavendish 
 Laboratory. J. served with his usual activity on this Syndicate 
 together with Coutts Trotter of Trinity, who had hardly yet 
 attained the height of the great personal power and influence 
 which he ultimately exercised in the University. The site 
 selected was behind the Free School Lane entrance to the 
 Old Botanic Garden, just south of the "Great House," which 
 in 1784 (see p. 300) had been sold to Mr. Mortlock, and 
 which had to be repurchased before the most recent addition 
 to the Cavendish Laboratory — the Rayleigh wing — could be 
 added in 1907. This last named wing, which cost some o£^8000, 
 was materially helped by Lord Rayleigh, who gave to the 
 Building Fund a large part (i?5000) of his Nobel prize.^ 
 
 Part of the earliest Cavendish Laboratory, which was 
 begun in the late spring of 1872 and was in use by the 
 
 ^ The rest of the prize Lord Rayleigh gave to the University Library. 
 
 U
 
 3o6 y, as Secretary to the JVluseiims 
 
 Michaelmas Term of 1873, stood on the site of the Curator's 
 house mentioned early in our story. The entrance from Free 
 School Lane was now shifted a little way south, and on the 
 southern side of this a porter's lodge was built. This lodge at 
 first and for several years afterwards was however occupied by 
 the attendant at the Cavendish Laboratory, the porter living 
 in rooms which now form part of the ground floor of the 
 laboratory of ]\Iineralogy. The southern wing of the Cavendish 
 Laboratory, which now covers the area between the present 
 porter's lodge and the site of the Perse Headmaster's house ^ — 
 now built over by Engineering — was put up at a cost of about 
 £^OQQ in 1895, and was largely paid for out of fees. By the 
 pulHng down of the Perse Headmaster's house in 1912, and 
 its replacement by Engineering Laboratories, the Departments 
 of Physics and Engineering are now brought into contact. 
 
 In 1872, a considerable addition was made to the Chemical 
 Laboratory - by the erection of a large room, well ventilated, 
 and lit from above. This students' laboratory formed a 
 first floor over the "private rooms" which had been put up 
 in 1833. It must have been in this room that some eight years 
 later I was examined in Practical Chemistry for an entrance 
 scholarship. The examination was in charge of one whom 
 I took at the time to be a Jesuit Father : but he can hardly 
 have been one, for, when I next met him many years later, 
 he was an Anglican Bishop. A cross-section of this laboratory 
 coloured partly in Pompeian red can still (1913) be seen on 
 the wall north of the gap between the Medical Schools and 
 the Physiological Laboratory. 
 
 In this year (1872), J. and Michael Foster brought before 
 the University the urgent need for proper provision for the 
 teaching of Comparative Anatomy and Physiology. Hitherto, 
 and for some years afterwards, all the practical work in those 
 sciences had been carried on in the two rooms which, at that 
 time separated by a central archway now indicated by the 
 rounded windows, were in 1880 united to form the Philosophical 
 » See p. 299. ' See p. 302.
 
 Fawcett^s building 307 
 
 Library. The passage between the northern and the southern 
 courts was then through these windows. 
 
 There was a gallery around these lofty rooms which ex- 
 tended over the central archway, and thus, although the 
 rooms were separate below, they communicated in the gallery. 
 I have already mentioned that J. was the first founder of our 
 Ethnological Collections. Before the two rooms which now 
 form the Philosophical Library were made one, a stuffed bear, 
 a collection of native bows-and-arrows, Dew-Smith and Newall- 
 Martin one day found themselves together in this gallery. Dew- 
 Smith and Newall-Martin put the arrows into the bear, but, 
 alarmed at the copious bleeding of sawdust that ensued, they 
 hid the animal in a box. It disappeared. A few months later J. 
 read an advertisement in the local paper of a stuffed bear to be 
 sold at Barnwell. Of course he attended the sale, and he then 
 found his own partially unstuffed specimen being put up to 
 auction. 
 
 In 1873, the Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate re- 
 ported in favour of the scheme submitted to them for further 
 buildings for Physiology and Zoology, and their report was 
 accepted by the Senate; but with the important exception 
 that the University repurchased a site sold in 1786 between 
 the eastern end of Salvin's building and Corn Exchange Street, 
 nothing came of their report. 
 
 I have already stated ^ that the classes which J. and Mr. Bridge 
 started in 1871 had to be taught in J.'s private room, whilst he 
 camped out at a table in the Museum. In 1876, the need of 
 further accommodation became even more pressing, the teaching 
 which Frank Balfour had established in Animal Morphology, at 
 first carried on in one half of the present Philosophical Library, 
 was now only made possible by the Professor of Zoology 
 (Alfred Newton) giving up his private room for this object, 
 and the classes in Physiology were increasingly overcrowded. 
 The Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate accordingly 
 introduced a revised report, which was again agreed to by 
 the Senate, and this time, i.e. in the summer of 1876, 
 
 "■ p. 271.
 
 3o8 y' ^s Secretary to the 3VIuseums 
 
 building was begun. Mr. Fawcett was the architect, and 
 the tender which was accepted amounted to =^8500. Kut 
 further delays occurred ; the Syndicate had been recommended 
 to use concrete instead of wood for the roofs and floors of 
 their new venture, and in February 1878 a huge slab of this 
 material which was being placed in the north-east portion of the 
 building fell, crashing through floor after floor to the ground. 
 This accident induced the Syndicate to seek further expert 
 advice, and ultimately to replace the concrete by wood. 
 Another cause of delay was a dispute about ancient lights 
 with the owner of a house in Corn Exchange Street ; and alto- 
 gether it was not surprising that the year 18T9 was reached 
 before the new building was fully occupied. 
 
 This building, which extended from Corn Exchange 
 Street to the eastern walls of the Zoological Lecture Room 
 and the present Birdroom, was in three stories with good 
 basements. The central floor was entirely given over to 
 Physiology, and the Physiologists later encroached a little on 
 both the other floors. On the ground floor were four work- 
 rooms, and private rooms for the Jacksonian Professor (now 
 store-rooms), for the Professor of Zoology, for the Professor of 
 Anatomy, afterwards Professor of Surgery, and for J. J.'s 
 room is occupied now, as it was then, by the Superintendent of 
 the Museum of Zoology. The top floor had nine rooms : 
 that on the east was Balfour's laboratory, with a private room 
 next to it ; the Professor of Anatomy had a class room for 
 microscopy to the north. The other rooms on the south 
 were used by J. as preparation rooms, by the Demonstrator, 
 and by the Strickland Curator. 
 
 Whilst all this was going on along the eastern frontier 
 of the Old Botanic Garden site, something was also taking 
 place on the western. James Stuart had in 1875 been elected 
 to the newly-established Professorship of Mechanism, and it 
 was not long before he was drawing the attention of the 
 Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate to the want of a 
 workshop and drawing-office in which he could instruct his
 
 "The Philosophical Library 309 
 
 pupils. In the summer of 1878 a workshop of the most 
 modest appearance was put up in the garden, west of the 
 Botanical Museum, followed by a drawing-office in 1881, by 
 further workshops in 1882, and by a foundry in 1884. Pro- 
 fessor Stuart stocked these with instruments and machinery 
 largely at his own cost, though they were subsequently bought 
 by the University. 
 
 During the summer of 1879 a new room was built over 
 the then entirely inadequate Human Anatomy dissecting room 
 and an adjacent private room. The former was opened as a 
 dissecting room in the October of that year. 
 
 The Philosophical Librai-y, as we have seen,^ was constructed 
 in 1880 by the removal of the central archway to the eastern 
 end, and thus the two rooms on the ground floor were 
 thrown into one. By an arrangement made between the 
 Philosophical Society and the University the library of 
 the society was moved into this room during the Long 
 Vacation of 1881 and made accessible to members of the 
 University. As long ago as 1865 leave had been given to the 
 Philosophical Society to use the room between the Mathe- 
 matical Professors' room and what became the first Balfour 
 Library, and here their Council met, and here at first their 
 books had been stored until they were removed in 1881. This 
 removal, calling attention to the library, resulted in its in- 
 crease. Numerous donations of great value were now received. 
 For many years the present Philosophical Library room was 
 used both as a library and as an examination-room until the 
 ever-accumulating books crowded out the examinations. 
 
 Before proceeding further with the really amazing history 
 of the Science buildings so long associated with J. it will be 
 well briefly to record the various purchases the University 
 made to round off' the Old Botanic Garden site. On the 
 ground where the original Cavendish Laboratory now stands 
 were some offices bought in 1856, and in front of them, next 
 Free School Lane, two dwelling-houses which originally had 
 
 ^ pp. 306, 307.
 
 310 y, as Secretary to the 3\dusetnns 
 
 formed the inn known as "The Three Cups." These houses 
 the University acquired in 1862 and 1871 respectively. South 
 of these, facing the back of Corpus Christi College, were three 
 more dwelling-houses which were bought in 1871, 1874, and 1875 
 respectively. One or two of these continued to be occupied 
 by tenants for a year or two ; the rest were used as store-rooms 
 for the Department of Mechanism. Turning to the eastern 
 boundary, the area between Fawcett's building and the southern 
 end of the Corn Exchange was bought by the University as 
 follows : (1) certain warehouses leased by the town authorities 
 to Messrs. Headly, with the ground they stood on, forming 
 nearly half the total area, in 1881 ; (2) certain tenements 
 belonffinff to St. Edwards' Parish, iust north of Fawcetfs build- 
 ing, in 1883; and (3) the broad strip intervening between (1) 
 and (2), which now forms part of the site of the large Physio- 
 loo-ical and Anatomical Lecture Room, from the Corporation of 
 Cambridge, in 1884. But this same year the University made 
 a still more important addition to the Old Botanic site. The 
 Senate agreed, in the month of June, to buy the Perse Almshouses 
 which stood facing Pembroke College Lodge in the south-west 
 corner of our area. Including the cost of removing the Alms- 
 houses to Newnham, where they now stand, the sum paid was 
 £%Q15. In 1888, the site, with a frontage of 218 feet on Free 
 School Lane, of the boys' Perse School, then about to be removed 
 to Hills Road, was, though some " non-placet " votes were given, 
 bouo-ht for i.^1 2,500. On the eastern, the southern, and the 
 western sides the Museum's site was now bounded by public 
 thoroughfares. The Perse School site was the last purchase 
 made whilst J. was secretary to the Syndicate, but we may 
 as well complete the catalogue of acquisitions. In 1896 the 
 University gave =£^12,000 for the garden-ground and adjoining 
 premises at the back of Messrs. Barclay's (late Mortlock's) Bank, 
 extending from Parson's Court to Free School Lane, and com- 
 prising an area of 28,924 square feet. On this area the Rayleigh 
 wing of the Cavendish Laboratory, the Examination Rooms, 
 and the new Lecture Rooms now stand. A house adjoining this
 
 ^ or t lock ajid Downing Sites 311 
 
 part of the Mortlock garden was purchased by the University 
 in 1901 for i.'oOO. This, I think, completes the list of pur- 
 chases on the Old Botanic Garden site. 
 
 A new era of expansion for both the arts and the sciences 
 was made possible, however, by the purchase of the Downing 
 site about this date. The Senate must have been in an ex- 
 pansive and buoyant mood in 1896, for not only was it willing 
 to spend o^'l 2,000 on the Mortlock garden, but it put down 
 another iPl 5,000 and purchased two acres of the northern end 
 of the grounds of Downing College. In the following year, 
 it widened its Downing site by the further purchase of an 
 additional strip on the southern boundary forty feet wide, 
 which was paid for at the rate of :;£'5000 an acre. In 1902 
 the Senate agreed to purchase a still further six and a quarter 
 acres at a somewhat lower figure. The details and conditions 
 of these several purchases are minutely set forth by J. in the 
 Endowments of the University of Cambridge^ 1904. 
 
 Let us now return to the Science buildings under the 
 charge of the Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate in the 
 year 1882. The great success which had attended the teaching 
 of Michael Foster and Frank 13alfour had attracted a large 
 number of pupils, far too large in fact even for the new 
 quarters to accommodate. The Museums and Lecture Rooms 
 Syndicate was appealed to, and after careful inquiry they 
 recommended the addition of a third story to the central 
 Salvin building. The Senate concurred, and accordingly, 
 above the Mathematical Professors' rooms, which in turn 
 were above the Philosophical Library, a long well-lit labora- 
 tory was built in 1882. At the eastern end were two private 
 rooms, one of them long occupied by Mr. Adam Sedgwick. 
 Access was given by means of the gallery of the Bird-room as 
 well as by the western staircase. Unhappily, Professor Balfour 
 (just appointed to his Chair) never saw these rooms; the tragic 
 accident which befell him in the Alps that summer cut off pre- 
 maturely the life of one of the greatest biologists of all ages.
 
 312 y. as Secretary to the Museums 
 
 The rearrangement of the M.B. Examinations and the vigour 
 with which Mr. Adam Sedgwick carried on Balfour"'s teaching 
 brought about a further increase in the number of students. 
 The most urgent need was a room in which to conduct the 
 practical work of the Elementary Biology course for the 
 remodelled P'irst M.B. Examination, and this was provided 
 in 1884 by bodily lifting the roof of the Mineralogical Museum 
 and building up walls underneath it. " So skilfully was this 
 singular operation carried out by Professor Stuart and Mr. 
 Lyon, Superintendent of the Department of Mechanism, that 
 * not a single slate in the roof was broken or strained, and the 
 whole work of lifting the roof and building the exterior walls 
 was completed in seventeen working days, the weight lifted 
 being 50 tons, and the total length of the roof, 110 feet.' "" 
 The elevation of this roof enabled a spacious and well- lit 
 Laboratory to be arranged with an office at the southern end, 
 with a Laboratory at the northern end for senior students, 
 and with a private room for a demonstrator. During the same 
 summer a second floor was added to the south-western annexe 
 of the Herbarium for the teaching of Physiological Botany, 
 and also a lean-to gallery running along the eastern side of the 
 Herbarium for classes in Practical Botany. Both subjects 
 were then being actively taught by Mr. S. H. Vines, of Chrisfs 
 College, now Professor of Botany at Oxford. The lean-to 
 Laboratory was removed when the Engineering Department 
 built the modern Drawing Office in 1903. Some years pre- 
 viously Botany had gained three rooms, part of the old Porter''s 
 Lodge. In 1880, the attendant at the Cavendish laboratory, 
 who lived in the present Porter's Lodge, died, and the porter of 
 the then " Museums," who had lived in a small house, now the 
 Chemical laboratory of the Department of Mineralogy, moved 
 to the present Porter's Lodge. His house was at first added 
 to the Department of Botany and, when this Department 
 moved across Downing Street, to Mineralogy. 
 
 For many years Professor Liveing had been pointing out
 
 ^A(ew Chemical Laboratory 313 
 
 the urgent need of a new Chemical Laboratory, and with the 
 acquisition of the Perse Almshouses, a convenient site was at 
 hand. After much discussion and much inspection of the more 
 recently erected chemical laboratories at home and abroad, 
 plans drawn up by Mr. J. J. Stevenson were accepted by the 
 Senate, and in December 1885, as soon as the ground could 
 be cleared, the building was begun. Facing the end of Free 
 School Lane and a good length of Pembroke Street, it was built 
 in a more ornate style than the majority of the " Museums." 
 The at first anaemic and then dingy Cambridge white bricks 
 were discarded for a stone fa(,ade facing the street, while red 
 brick walls looked on the southern court. This building took a 
 long time to complete, owing to the complexity of the fittings. 
 Its progress can be traced in successive annual reports of the 
 Professor of Chemistry and the Jacksonian Professor. At 
 last, in May 1889, they write, " We are now in possession of the 
 whole building, and we are glad to be able to state that it 
 fully answers our expectations."" 
 
 Before passing on to other departments I may, perhaps, 
 shortly describe the extensions of the Chemical laboratory. 
 Towards the end of the year 1899 an attic over the large Ele- 
 mentary Laboratory was adapted for students' work. Under 
 Mr. J. J. Stevenson's advice, dormer windows were inserted in 
 the roof, the staircase was prolonged, the fume-closets were 
 connected with the existing flues, and benches for thirty-two 
 students were fitted up. The work was completed by the 
 summer of 1900, and gave great satisfaction to the Professor. 
 But a few years later a further extension became necessary. In 
 his annual report for 1905, Professor Liveing mentioned that 
 " every available bench in the general laboratories has been 
 occupied," and " that Caius College has decided shortly to 
 close its Chemical Laboratory." Sidney College had at about 
 the same time arrived at a similar decision. Hence it seemed 
 obvious that by October 1907 a large accession of students 
 would present themselves at the LTniversity Laboratory. The 
 matter was urgent, and after some discussion as to the form the
 
 314 y- as Secretary to the 3\/[useums 
 
 building should take, and its exact position, it was decided to 
 fill up the gap between the existing Chemical Laboratory and 
 the site of the present new Medical Schools, leaving an en- 
 trance archway with a Porter's Lodge at its eastern end. 
 The building was designed by Mr. Redfern, partner of the late 
 Mr. Stevenson. It was begun in 1907, and was in partial use 
 by the autumn of 1908. 
 
 When Chemistry first moved into its new quarters in 1889 
 the rooms on the eastern side of the southern court which 
 were now set free had been put at the disposal of Professor 
 Roy, who, since his appointment in 1884, had been struggling 
 to teach Practical Pathology in two small rooms opposite to 
 the private room of the Strickland Curator, on the third 
 floor of Fawcett's building. 
 
 We must now retrace our steps and return to the Octagon, 
 or the second home of Human Anatomy in Cambridge, which 
 lay on the south-east corner of the site. It seems surpris- 
 ing, as I have said in the previous chapter,^ that not until 
 1871 did our Medical School obtain recognition by the Royal 
 College of Surgeons. From that date only could a student 
 complete the required courses of Anatomy and Physiology at 
 Cambridge. In his report for 1884, Professor Macalister writes, 
 " No department of University work is so badly housed as the 
 Department of Anatomy." This wail was not without its 
 effect, and immediate relief was granted by the erection of a 
 spacious corrugated-iron shed of the usual hideous appearance, 
 which, placed on the west of the Octagon, occupied a site partly 
 covered by the existing Medical School, but projecting a little 
 into the southern Court. This shed was used for a few years 
 as a dissecting-room, and when Human Anatomy moved into 
 its new quarters near the Corn Exchange, it was for a time 
 utilised as a laboratory for teaching practical Physics to the 
 candidates for the First M.B. Examination. 
 
 The alleviation afforded to the Department of Human 
 Anatomy by the corrugated-iron shed was indeed but tem- 
 porary ; for the condition of the old Anatomical buildings was 
 
 1 p. 271.
 
 Human ^Anatomy a?id Physiology 315 
 
 such that burning or pulling them down was the only remedy. 
 Already in 1880 Professor Humphry had drawn attention to 
 the invasion of dry-rot, and the fabric was in a state of ad- 
 vanced decay — the panelling, skirting-boards, and floors were 
 but whited sepulchres. Beneath all was dry-rot and decay, 
 and I, who have seen much dry-rot, have never seen such 
 luxuriant growths of Merulius lacrymans as the detachment 
 of these boards revealed. In spite of this state of things the 
 Octagon was used for another fifteen years, though not by 
 Human Anatomy. 
 
 Physiology, too, was again clamouring for more space, in 
 spite of the fact that the annexe mentioned above, with a 
 gallery well adapted for histological work, had been erected, in 
 the winter of 1886-7, along the eastern side of the Museum of 
 Zoology as an extension to the Physiological Department. In 
 his report for the year 1886, Michael Foster, whilst welcoming 
 this addition, points out " that the banishment of a portion 
 of my class to a room so disconnected with the rest of the 
 Laboratory is a very serious evil." Next year, he was pleading 
 the cause of Psycho-Physics ; whilst Professor Macalister was 
 saying, "The want of a suitable lecture-room is still grievously 
 felt, and the accommodation for practical work is taxed to its 
 fullest extent." In 1889, then, the Museums and Lecture Rooms 
 Syndicate turned their attention to the provision of a large 
 increase to the existing Physiological Laboratory, to the build- 
 ing of an entirely new Anatomical School, and to the erection 
 of a large lecture-room, between the two and common to both. 
 Unfortunately the plans prepared by Mr. Fawcett proved more 
 costly than either the Financial Board or the Syndicate had 
 anticipated, and the whole scheme was in danger of being 
 indefinitely delayed, when, in November, Professor Henry 
 Sidgwick offered i?1000 at once, and promised ^£^500 more 
 within two years, " provided that the Financial Board, in con- 
 sideration of this offer, feel themselves justified in reporting in 
 favour of commencing these buildings without delay." ^ 
 
 1 Reporter, 1889-90, p. 170.
 
 3 1 6 y- ^s Secretary to the 3VIusetims 
 
 So generous an offer touched even the hearts of the Financial 
 Board ; they withdrew their opposition, and helped to pass 
 Graces of thanks to Professor Sidgwick, whose generous gift 
 had removed a real obstacle to the progress of the building. 
 The site which had been selected ran along Corn Exchange 
 Street from the northern end of Fawcetfs second building as 
 far as the present Corn Exchange, where there was a short 
 return towards the west. The new rooms for Physiology were 
 naturally placed at the southern end, contiguous to the older 
 part of the Laboratory. Human Anatomy was placed next 
 the Corn Exchange, and a large lecture - room was built 
 between them. This room, capable of seating 280 students, 
 has, like other lecture-rooms designed by Mr. Fawcett, excellent 
 acoustic properties. Before beginning the building, certain 
 tenements, which, if I recollect, were on the south end of the 
 site, had to be cleared away, but no time was lost, and the 
 buildings were ready for occupation early in 1891. 
 
 This was the last building erected whilst J. was Secretary to 
 the Museums and Lecture Rooms Syndicate. In the spring of 
 1891 he had been elected Registrary, and at once set about 
 making arrangements for resigning the posts of Secretary to 
 the Syndicate and of Superintendent of the Museum of 
 Zoology. But adjustments had to be made not only in the 
 duties of these posts, but also at the Registry ; and the resigna- 
 tions were deferred, and only became effective at the end of the 
 year. The letter to the Vice-Chancellor in which he offered to 
 resign the secretaryship is dated 14th May 1891 ; and the 
 Syndicate in their annual report for 1890, signed on 26th 
 May 1891, express fully and feelingly their sense of J.'s services 
 to the Museum. They say : — 
 
 *' The Syndicate learn with regret that their Secretary, the 
 present Superintendent of the Museum of Comparative Anatomy 
 and Zoology, has sent in his resignation to the Vice-Chancellor. 
 They feel they cannot let this opportunity pass without ex- 
 pressing to the University their sense of the very great value
 
 y.'s T{esignation 317 
 
 they attach to the services Mr. Clark has rendered. He became 
 Superintendent of the Museum of Zoology in 1866 and Secre- 
 tary of the Syndicate in 1880. For some years he discharged 
 without salary the duties of this office, to which in 1883 he was 
 formally appointed by the Senate. During the period he has 
 held office the buildings under charge of the Syndicate have 
 grown enormously, and in everything connected with the 
 growth Mr. Clark has borne a most prominent share. His 
 knowledge of the past history of University matters, his prac- 
 tical acquaintance with architecture and buikiings, and his 
 skill in placing clearly before the Senate the various questions 
 to which the Syndicate have had from time to time to call 
 attention, have been invaluable. The Syndicate feel that no 
 small share of the success which has attended the Natural 
 Science School in the University is due to Mr. Clark. He has 
 always been most ready to place his services at the disposal of 
 everyone connected with the Museums, and his resignation will 
 leave a blank it will be hard to fill."'"' 
 
 I might now bring my abbreviated history of the Museums 
 to a close, but here there is no natural break. Although J. 
 ceased to be Secretary to the Syndicate, he was constantly a 
 member of it ; and, whether a member or not, he took the 
 keenest and most practical interest in all new science buildings, 
 and the Syndicate never failed to secure his knowledgeable, if 
 trenchant, criticisms on plans submitted to them. However, 
 at the end of the year 1912, in which I am now writing, there 
 is a break — whether natural or not, at least final — for at mid- 
 night on the 31st December 1912 the Museums and Lecture 
 Rooms Syndicate was dissolved and ceased to be ; hence it may 
 be as well to continue our catalogue of new buildings until that 
 date. But a last and even more compelling motive for taking 
 this course is that I enjoy writing this desultory record, and 
 so I shall go on doing it as long as I can. 
 
 Professor Ewing- had been elected to the Chair of Mecha- 
 nism and Applied Mechanics in November 1890, and in his
 
 3 1 8 y- ^^ Secretary to the Museums 
 
 first annual report he welcomes the proposal of the Syndi- 
 cate, appointed to deal with the Perse School site, to 
 allot the main part of the existing buildings to his De- 
 partment. Until new buildings could be arranged for, the 
 work was carried on in the old school-rooms and hall. I 
 should here remind the reader that when the site and existing 
 buildings were purchased,^ the headmaster's house was assigned 
 to Botany, and afforded "excellent accommodation for Prac- 
 tical Physiology and Morphology." When Botany was re- 
 moved to the Downing site in 1903, this house was handed 
 over to the Department of Mechanism, and was used for some 
 years as a chemical laboratory, until in the summer of 1912 
 it was pulled down, and, in its place, an extension of the 
 Laboratory was erected to house the electrical part of its work. 
 In 1903 three rooms of this house were also placed at the 
 disposal of the Special Boards of Classics and of iVIediaeval and 
 Modern Languages ; but they proved not very suitable for 
 this purpose and were soon given up. 
 
 To return to the main Engineering Laboratory. When Pro- 
 fessor Stuart resigned in 1890 the number of students was 
 large, and this number soon increased, stimulated by the 
 arrival of Professor Ewing and the proposed establishment of 
 an Honours Examination in Engineering. The first Tripos 
 Examination was held in 1894. i\Iore and better accom- 
 modation was required ; and in June 1893 the central block 
 of the existing Engineering School, and in the following 
 November the southern wing, were begun, and both were 
 formally opened in May 1894. It may be pointed out that 
 all the buildings of Engineering have been not only put up, 
 but furnished at very little direct cost to the University. 
 With the exception of cClOOO contributed from the University 
 Chest, the whole cost of building and equipping the central 
 and southern blocks in 1893 (some X'6000) was raised by public 
 subscription. 
 
 A few years later, in October 1898, the Vice-Chancellor 
 published the following letter: — 
 
 * In 1760. See p. 298.
 
 Hopkinso?i Lal?oratory 319 
 
 iZth October 1898. 
 
 "Dear Mr. Vice-Chanckllor, — I desire, jointly ^ith 
 my son and daui^jhtei', Bertram and Ellen Ilopkinson, to 
 ,<i;"ive ^'5000 towards an extension of the Engineering 
 Laboratory in the University of Cambridge, to be erected 
 to the memory of my husband John Ilopkinson; and of 
 our son John (lustave Hopkinson, who was entered as a 
 student in the Ijigineering School for this October, and 
 would have followed his father's profession. 
 
 " It seems to us a peculiarly fitting memorial, as Dr. Hop- 
 kinson, from the lirst, was warmly interested in the new 
 school, antl (piite lately exj)ressed a strong ilesire that an 
 aildition should be made to meet the rapidly increasing 
 demand for acconnnodation, and had stated his intention 
 of taking inunediate steps to further this extension. It 
 was also a special satisfaction to him that our son Jack 
 was to benelit by the opportunities allbrded in the 
 engineering laboratory, under Professor Ewing, whose fine 
 teaching and masterly scientific work he felt ought to 
 have the fullest possible scope. We hope that our gift, 
 which we should like to see ajiplied as soon as may be, 
 will make this wider field possible. — Trusting it will meet 
 with your approval, I am, dear sir, yours faithfully, 
 
 " Evelyn Hopkinson," 
 
 This munificent offer was gratefully accepted, and the 
 Public Orator prepared a letter of thanks which was duly 
 sealed. Building was begun at once, and the John Hopkinson 
 jNIemorial AVing was formally opened in February 1900, one of 
 the finest rooms in it beinu' decorated bv a strikino; likeness of 
 him fo whom the building is dedicated. The very inadequate 
 workshops put up by Professor Stuart in the eighties are being 
 gratlually replaced. But the greatest extension took place when 
 Botany moved across Dow^ning Street in 1903. Except for a 
 room or two at the northern end which fell to Mineralogy, and 
 a small annexe on the second floor, projecting west from the 
 southern end, which was given to IVIorphology, the whole of 
 the space formerly occupied by Botany was allocated to 
 Engineering. The large Botanical Lecture-room was tem-
 
 320 y. as Secretary to the JVI use urns 
 
 porarily assigned to the same department. Engineering being 
 now in the possession of the old Herbarium, it became possible 
 (as we have already seen ^), by removing the lean-to laboratory 
 which ran along its eastern wall, to construct a spacious one- 
 storied Drawing Office, which projected over nearly one quarter 
 of the area of the northern court. This was first used in October 
 1903, and the opportunity was taken to add a small but con- 
 venient and well-lit lecture and class room for the use of the 
 mineralogists on the northern side of the Drawing Office. 
 
 We must now go a long way back and try to unravel 
 the history of the Geological Museum, a very tangled tale. 
 In olden times natural curiosities of various kinds often found 
 their May to the University Library, and hence one is not 
 surprised to learn that shortly after Dr. John Woodward"'s 
 death, in 1728, his " Fossils, a vast quantities of Ores, Minerals, 
 and Shells, with other curiosities well worth viewing,"" were 
 deposited in the Library, and in 1735 the present Novel Room, 
 at the northern end of the Arts Schools, was being fitted up 
 for their storage and display. Almost a century later, in 1818, 
 we find the Syndics of the Woodwardian Museum of Geology 
 representing " that it was desirable that a larger room should 
 be built, with a contiguous room for the accommodation of the 
 lecturer." Now geologists deal in geological time, and this 
 may be the explanation of the fact that in anything to do with 
 the Woodwardian Museum the progress has always been of the 
 slowest. To those who traffic in aeons, the delay of fifteen or 
 even twenty-five years must seem momentary. This may also 
 partially explain the extraordinary number of Syndicates which 
 have met about the Museum ; they obviously exchanged views, 
 and finally issued reports, but little or nothing came of their 
 deliberations. 
 
 There was (1) a Special Syndicate, in 1821, to consider the 
 building of a Museum for the Collection ; (2) another, appointed 
 in 1824, published a "Statement " in 1828, now known to have 
 
 ' p. 312.
 
 Geological JVluseum 321 
 
 been drawn up by Dr. Whewell ; (3) another Syndicate was 
 appointed on 6th May 1829 to consider how the old court of 
 King's could be " converted to Academic use,"" and incident- 
 ally to provide for the Woodwardian Museum. This last- 
 named Syndicate was the cause of a war in the University 
 which lasted for eight years. Members of the Senate early 
 in the nineteenth century held very strong views as to the 
 allocation of the site in question, and as to the numerous 
 plans put before them by the several architects then em- 
 ployed. And in those days, when members of the Senate held 
 strong views, they expressed them strongly. The 1829 Syndi- 
 cate (3) indeed lost no time, and reported on 2nd July of 
 that year, and the report being unopposed it was adopted 
 on 6th July. Amongst the instructions which it provided 
 for the architects were: "It is required to provide . . . 
 for Museums of Geology, Mineralogy, Zoology, and Botany, 
 for three or four lecture-rooms, for workshops and unpacking 
 rooms connected with the several museums," and for a variety 
 of other needs not immediately connected with our purpose. 
 
 The four firms of competing architects sent down their 
 plans by 1st November 1829, and after consideration in what 
 must be one of the shortest reports on record (it is barely four 
 lines in length), the Syndicate recommended the acceptance 
 of Mr. CockerelFs design. No. 1. Thus far the scheme had 
 made rapid progress, but when the design was " inspected " 
 by the members of the Senate there was instant opposition. 
 Their excitement was so great that a Grace confirming the 
 report, and another applying to Mr. Cockerell for an amended 
 design, were for some inexplicable reason withdrawn, and a 
 fourth (4) Syndicate was appointed to inquire and report 
 on the state of the University finances. Although this 
 Syndicate reported in May 1830, its report has completely 
 disappeared, and of it no record remains. In the mean- 
 time Mr. Cockerell had prepared a second design, and on 
 May 31, 1830, a fifth (5) Syndicate was appointed to consider, 
 
 amongst other things, "the construction of Museums and 
 
 x
 
 322 J' ^^ Secreta?y to the JVluseums 
 
 Lecture-rooms."''' This Syndicate issued a revised form of 
 instruction to the architects, and this time the Museum of 
 Zoology was left out. 
 
 Again the architects submitted " designs," and again on 
 their being submitted to the Senate the most violent divergence 
 of opinion broke out. Prominent in the discussion were both 
 Peacock and Whewell. Towards the end of the year (1830) 
 the fifth Syndicate recommended the Senate to accept the plans 
 of Messrs. Rickman and Hutchinson, but for some reason this 
 recommendation never reached the Senate, and the whole thing 
 now fell into abeyance for nearly four years. 
 
 On the 14th March 1834 a sixth (6) Syndicate was appointed 
 to confer with the architects, but apparently all they did was 
 to offer them a fee for the trouble they had been put to. 
 The next step was taken exactly one year later, when another 
 (7) Syndicate — ^this time a very large one — was appointed to 
 collect money for the proposed buildings. By the beginning 
 of the academic year they had been so far successful as to 
 place over =£^20,000 at the disposal of the University. Thus 
 encouraged, the Senate on 18th November 1835 appointed yet 
 another Syndicate (8), and so cheered were these Syndics 
 that within one week of their appointment they had issued no 
 less than three reports ! It goes without saying that their first 
 report (A) recommended the Senate to appoint still another 
 Syndicate, which was to find out if the University had any 
 funds of its own which might be available for the proposed 
 increase to the Library, and the provision of Museums, etc. 
 I do not think this last Syndicate was ever constituted. If it 
 was, we might call it (8a). 
 
 Three of the architects now sent in fresh designs, and at 
 last on 11th May 183G a large majority of the Senate accepted 
 Mr. CockerelPs plans. On the same day another (9) Syndicate 
 was appointed to inquire if these plans were in conformity 
 with the instructions of the Senate, and in seven days they 
 reported that they were, and that the portion of the building 
 which was to be put in hand at once could be built for £9.5,000^
 
 Geological 3\4useum 323 
 
 but that Mr. Cockerell " declined to pledge himself to this 
 precise sum.""' A Grace confirming their Report was prepared, 
 but the caution of Mr. Cockerell alarmed Dr. Webb, the 
 Master of Clare Hall, who brought the whole thing again to a 
 standstill by vetoing the Grace in the Caput. 
 
 A former Syndicate — I think No. 8, that of 18th November 
 1835— was now revived, and conferred again with Mr. Cockerell, 
 anji after some time they reported that certain parts of the 
 building could be put up for ,^25,000. This time the Report 
 was carried by twenty-two votes to five, and (7th December 
 1836) a (10) building Syndicate was appointed with powers 
 to confer with Mr. Cockerell. 
 
 Architects do not always command one's sympathy, but my 
 heart goes out to Mr. Cockerell. 
 
 The last-mentioned Syndicate (10), after some months, re- 
 ported in March 1837 in favour of erecting the northern wing 
 of the building to begin with, and this was actually begun in 
 June of the same year, though the foundation stone was not 
 laid until September nor the contract sealed till October. 
 
 Once begun, the building went forward smoothly. By the 
 beffinnino" of 1840 the architect certified that the substantial 
 work of the structure was satisfactorily completed. The task of 
 putting in the fitlings was spread over nearly two years, and 
 by the end of 1842 the rooms were ready for occupation. The 
 various suggestions for University buildings which had occupied 
 the earlier of these multitudinous Syndicates had reduced 
 themselves to two — a large extension of the Library, and a 
 Museum with a Lecture-Room for Geology and Mineralogy. 
 The building as finished, in what for a better term I can only 
 call the Cyclopean style, was divided into two nearly equal 
 halves : above, a lofty library with alcoves and side galleries ; 
 below, the Woodwardian Museum, and rooms for Mineralogy 
 with a spacious basement. This basement was partly but 
 imperfectly lit by an enormous hole in the floor of the 
 main Museum, through which one used to peer down at 
 the skeletons of prehistoric vertebrates. Its cost was put
 
 t 
 
 324 y* ^^ Secretary to the 3\duseums 
 
 at about J?35,000, and the difference between this sum and 
 that collected — about i!'23,500 — was met out of the Library 
 Reserve ; but the cost of the fittings of the Geological part 
 was paid for out of the Woodwardian Fund. 
 
 Twenty-nine years later, in what, as he only too clearly fore- 
 saw, was his last Annual Report, Professor Adam Sedgwick issued 
 the following pathetic appeal ; and, as it also contains a short 
 history of the Collections, and shows how the Woodwardian 
 Collection had been surpassed by the Sedgwickian, I cannot 
 refrain from reprinting it : — 
 
 Woodwardian Museum 
 
 Statement of the Woodwardian Professor : and List of 
 Subscribers to the Purchase Fund of the Leclienby 
 
 Collection 
 
 To the Noblemen and Gentlemen of the University of Cam- 
 bridge, and especially to the Heads of Colleges, the Mem- 
 bers of the Council, and the Members of the Senate, the 
 following Statement is addressed by their very aged and 
 infirm, but very affectionate and grateful Servant, 
 
 Adam Sedgwick. 
 Statement 
 
 The old nucleus of the present Geological Museum is of 
 considerable antiquity. It came to the University of (Cam- 
 bridge, partly by the bequest of Dr. Woodward, and partly by 
 purchase from his Executors, about the year 1727, but it was 
 in a good measure formed during the latter part of the pre- 
 ceding century. This collection is still entire (with the ex- 
 ception of a few specimens that have undergone spontaneous 
 decomposition), and is preserved with its copious Catalogues in 
 one of the closets of the present Museum, as an object both of 
 scientific and historical interest. 
 
 The present Geological Collection was begun by the writer 
 of this Statement in the year 1818; and by his personal labour 
 continued for many succeeding years, by the kind and generous 
 assistance and munificence of Academic friends, and by various
 
 Professor Sedgwick's appeal 325 
 
 purchases made by the University, it has become what it is — 
 one of the noblest collections, so far as regards British Geology, 
 that exist in England. I do not compare it with the gigantic 
 and unrivalled collections in the British Museum ; but as a 
 collection for study and for practical use, I think it inferior to 
 no collection existing in this island ; and of late years it has 
 become more and more frequented by persons devoted to the 
 study of the Natural Sciences. But Geology is a very pro- 
 gressive science, and there are gaps and defects in our collection 
 which must be supplied if it is to hold its present high rank 
 among the Museums of England. 
 
 A grand occasion, such as may never again be met with, 
 now presents itself. Mr. Leckenby, of Scarborough, offers to 
 transfer his entire and beautifully arranged collection to the 
 Woodwardian Museum for the sum of ^800. Many scientific 
 persons (and among them I am happy to name Professor 
 Morris) have declared this collection to be of its kind unrivalled. 
 It has been formed during a good many past years by Mr. 
 Leckenby, at a cost many times greater than the sum above 
 mentioned ; and our Assistant Curator, Mr. Henry Keeping, an 
 excellent judge on the question, regards it of inestimable value 
 as an addition to the Cambridge Museum, and thinks it is 
 offered on terms much below its value. It is most strong where 
 the present Cambridge collection is most weak, that is, in the 
 Mesozoic or Oolitic series of this island. 
 
 All the specimens, amounting to more than 4000, are of the 
 choicest character. For many Mr. Leckenby paid 20*. each, 
 for some £5 each; and indeed on his favourite object he 
 appears to have spared no cost. 
 
 After having given my annual lectures for fifty-three years 
 without a single break in the series, I have been compelled to 
 entreat the University to appoint a deputy to give my annual 
 course ; and Professor Morris, a name well known and honoured 
 by all the geologists of Europe, is now under University 
 appointment filling my place in the Lecture-Room. 
 
 With thankfulness to God for the past, I know well that
 
 326 y, as Secretary to the 3\duseu7ns 
 
 I must soon be called away from all earthly duties ; but it 
 would cast a gleam of light on my declining days, and fill my 
 heart with good hope for the future of Cambridge, could I see 
 the noble and in many respects the imcomparable collection of 
 Mr. Leckenby placed in our Museum. 
 
 I write this statement Avith the strongest feelings of love 
 and reverence for the whole Academic body, and for that 
 College which has been my home, now for the long period 
 of sixty-seven years; and I cannot but earnestly and con- 
 fidently hope, that what I have now recommended to the 
 University may become an accomplished fact, honourable to 
 the present history of the University, and a pledge of per- 
 manent security to its good foundations that are laid in 
 the interests of knowledge and of God's truth. 
 
 Trinity College, 
 
 12)rd November 1871. 
 
 It is pleasing to think that, owing to the exertions of 
 Dr. Cookson and of J., the money to purchase the Leckenby 
 Collection was soon got together, very largely by contributions 
 from the several Colleges. This happy result gave profound 
 pleasure to the Professor, who writes : " This information raised 
 in my heart an emotion of grateful joy such as I have not felt 
 since the brightest and happiest days of my youthful life."''' 
 
 Soon after Adam Sedgwick's death in 1873, a meeting of his 
 friends and admirers was held in the Senate House to arrange 
 for an adequate memorial to the great geologist, and so deep 
 was the regard and widespread the affection he had invoked 
 that in a comparatively short time no less a sum than <£! 1,153 
 was subscribed to perpetuate his memory. 
 
 His successor. Professor Hughes (1S73), at an early period 
 found difficulty in arranging the new Geological acquisitions in 
 their proper order. The cases were already filled, and as time 
 went on he emphasizes more and more the want of space and 
 light, and the overcrowding of the teaching accommodation, as 
 well as the need of more work-rooms, class-rooms, and lecture-
 
 Sedgwick 3\demorial 3^useum 327 
 
 rooms. It was of course proposed to build a Sedgwick 
 Memorial Museum, and there were, as usual, several Syndicates. 
 
 The first list of subscriptions to the Sedgwick Memorial 
 Museum was issued in 1874, and in June of that year a (11) 
 Syndicate was appointed " to collect information as to the space 
 and accommodation required for the new Geological Museum."" 
 This Syndicate was informed that i.^10,500 had already been 
 subscribed, but they held the opinion that " this sum would be 
 far from sufficient for the erection '*' of a Museum of the size 
 they thought necessary. Professor Hughes had estimated that 
 the total number of square feet required would be 13,700. 
 
 Four years later, in 1878, the Sedgwick Memorial Com- 
 mittee communicated to the Vice-Chancellor that they had 
 now at the disposal of the University a sum approaching 
 dfi'lSjOOO for the Memorial to the late Professor Sedgwick, 
 and a further (12) Syndicate was appointed, in December 1878, 
 to consider the question of the best site for the Museum, and 
 to obtain plans for the buildings. This Syndicate was re- 
 quested to report to the Senate before the end of the Academic 
 year, 1878-1879, but apparently their deliberations were 
 prolonged, for the University granted them an extension — 
 first of all to the end of the Easter Term, 1880; then to the 
 end of the Easter Term, 1881; and finally to the end of the 
 Easter Term, 1882. This Syndicate finally reported on 31st 
 May 1882, to the effect " that the difficulty of providing a site 
 for the Geological Museum, without unduly curtailing the 
 space available for other Departments of Science, has prevented 
 them from submitting to the Senate any proposal for building ; 
 but that recent acquisitions of ground in the neighbourhood 
 of the New Museums . , . gave them reason to hope that this 
 difficulty may be removed."" They therefore asked for a 
 further prolongation until the end of the Easter Term, 1883. 
 
 On 24th May 1883 they again reported, and this time in 
 favour of building the Museum on a site approximately the 
 same as that now occupied by the Medical Schools. It will be 
 recollected that it was then contemplated that the Chemical
 
 328 y. as Secretary to the 3\duseums 
 
 School was to be erected on the site of the Perse Almshouses. 
 A good deal of controversy took place as to the precise position 
 of the Geological Museum, some members of the Senate feeling 
 that it should be as near as possible to the Museum of Zoology, 
 whilst others attached little importance to this suggestion and 
 indeed disliked it. 
 
 On the 23rd June 1883, another (13) Syndicate was 
 appointed to carry out the recommendation of the Syndicate 
 that had reported on 24th May 1883, and whose Report had 
 now been confirmed by the Senate. This Syndicate was re- 
 appointed in the following year, and issued their first Report on 
 the 7th February 1885. They had considered both the Chemical 
 and the Geological buildings. In their earlier Report, that 
 of the 7th February 1885, they confined their attention entirely 
 to the Chemical Laboratory, and ultimately estimated its cost 
 at about ^31,000, and, as we have seen,^ the Chemical Labora- 
 tory was commenced shortly afterwards. After some criticism 
 the Syndicate reconsidered their Report, and issued an amended 
 version on 29th April 1885, and this Report was confirmed 
 on the 15th May of the same year. During November 1886 
 Professor Hughes notes that this Syndicate had expired. But 
 on the 10th January 1886, still another (14) Syndicate was 
 appointed "to obtain plans and estimates for the Geological 
 Museum on the site proposed in the Report dated 24th May 
 1883." That site, it will be recollected, faced the northern 
 end of Tennis Court Road. This Syndicate seems to have lapsed 
 without any further result, but a large number of pamphlets 
 and fly-sheets were issued ; some again advocating the erection 
 of the Museum as close as possible to the Zoological Museum, 
 whilst others held that if it were possible to purchase part of 
 the Downing grounds, a position on this site would better suit 
 the purposes of the Geologists. The (14) Syndicate having 
 now lapsed, the next move was with the Council of the Senate, 
 and a Grace proposing that the Vice-Chancellor be authorised 
 to enter into negotiations with the authorities of Downinsc 
 College was carried by 80 placets against 71 non-placets. 
 
 1 p. 313.
 
 Geological D^useum 329 
 
 The negotiations with Downing College, however, fell 
 through in October 1887, and a week later the Council 
 recommended another (15) Syndicate to procure, if neces- 
 sary, fresh plans for the erection of the Sedgwick Memorial 
 Museum on the site to the east of the new Chemical Labora- 
 tory. Plans suitable to this site were put in the hands 
 of the Senate by the division of the Lent Term, 1888. On 
 5th March 1888, still another (16) Syndicate, known as the 
 Building Sites Syndicate, reported on a scheme for the future 
 appropriation of all the sites available for buildings in the 
 neighbourhood of the New Museums. This (16) Syndicate 
 was of opinion that there was sufficient area between the new 
 Chemical Laboratory and the Museum of Human Anatomy 
 (the old Octagon) to admit of the erection of a Geological 
 Museum which would satisfy the rec^uirements of Geology. 
 
 The Council of the Senate, however, reported on 11th June 
 1888 that they had received a Minute from the Financial 
 Board stating that they were " of opinion that at the present 
 time it would not be prudent to assign any sum for a new 
 Geological Museum. Under these circumstances, the Council 
 feel they can take no further step at present." But on the 
 18th December 1890 they appointed yet another (17) Syndicate 
 to consider to what University purposes the Perse School site 
 should be put, " and in particular to consider a site for the 
 Sedgwick Memorial Museum." This Syndicate was to report 
 before the end of the Easter Term, 1891. Accordingly, on 
 the 20th February, they issued a long and detailed Report, in 
 which they reaffirmed the desirability of erecting the Sedgwick 
 Memorial Museum between the old Anatomical Schools and 
 the eastern end of the Chemical Laboratory. The part of 
 their Report referring to the Museum was, however, threatened 
 with a non-placet, and apparently was withdrawn. The non- 
 placets had asked that for once a (18) Syndicate should be ap- 
 pointed consisting of members of the Geological Staff, and this 
 was almost done, for on the 30th April 1891 the Vice-Chancellor, 
 with Professor Hughes, Professor Lewis, Mr. A. Sedgwick,
 
 330 y. as Secretary to the JHuseums 
 
 Mr. Marr, Mr. T. Roberts, and Mr. A. Marker, were appointed 
 by a majority of three votes to consider a site for the new 
 Geological Museum. This (18) Syndicate reported in favour 
 of building from the corner of Corn Exchange Street westward 
 to within about twenty feet of the Chemical Laboratory, and 
 their recommendation was confirmed by Grace of the Senate on 
 the 18th June 1891. 
 
 On the 4th February 1892, another (19) Syndicate was 
 appointed *' to obtain plans and estimates from one or more 
 architects as they may think fit, for the erection of the 
 Sedgwick Memorial Museum upon the site" above mentioned. 
 By April 1892, Mr. (now Sir) T. G. Jackson, R.A., had pre- 
 pared his plans and specifications for a building extending 
 from Corn Exchange Street to -within thirty feet of the 
 Chemical Laboratory. The Report of this Syndicate, dated 
 11th November 1892, was not unanimously signed, and a 
 non-placet was issued, and a second Report appeared in 
 February 1893. The Council of the Senate, however, did 
 not sanction Graces confirming the recommendation of this 
 Syndicate, but put forward a Grace giving general approval 
 to the plans prepared by Mr. Jackson. This proposal pro- 
 duced a sheaf of fly-sheets, but although it was non-placeted, 
 it was carried, whereupon another (20) Syndicate was 
 appointed on 23rd November 1893 to obtain working 
 drawings, specifications, and tenders for the Museum, and 
 this Syndicate was prolonged for some time, and finally on 
 30th October 1894 they requested powers "to reconsider 
 that plan, and, if necessary, to substitute a new one for it." 
 This was confirmed on the 31st January 1895. 
 
 In June 1895 the Sedgwick Memorial Museum Syndicate 
 reported that they had inspected Mr. Jackson's amended 
 plans, and that they regretted that it was impossible at this 
 late period of the term to proceed further with the question. 
 The plans were deposited in the Woodwardian Museum for 
 the inspection of the members of the Senate. 
 
 In November of the following year (1896), a majority of
 
 Geological Dvluseiim 331 
 
 the (20) Syndicate which had been appointed just three years 
 before recommended that the Museum be erected upon a 
 portion of the Downing Site, the purchase of which had 
 been by this time authorised by the Senate, and that the 
 Grace of the Senate of June 1891, which had assigned the 
 site on the okl Botanic Garden area, be rescinded. This 
 report was somewhat vigorously criticised in the Art School 
 discussion, but was eventually carried by 196 placets as 
 opposed to 42 non-placets. 
 
 In May 1897, still another (21) Syndicate was appointed 
 to obtain plans and estimates for the erection of the Museum 
 upon the site which has just been mentioned. As usual, 
 this Syndicate had to be continued, and its life was pro- 
 longed to the end of the Easter Term in 1898, but by 
 May in this year they had approved the plans and asked 
 for power to obtain tenders and specifications. They pro- 
 posed that a building should be erected at a cost of ^^41,500, 
 which included fittings and furniture, and the architect's 
 commission and the clerk of the works' wages. In February 
 of 1899, however, a larger scheme was adopted by the 
 Senate, and for this it was estimated that an additional 
 i:^2625 would be required. Of this the share of the Univer- 
 sity would be .i^l7,500, but allowing for contingencies 
 the Financial Board estimated that .£'21,000 would about 
 provide for the larger scheme accepted by the Senate. 
 
 On the 16th February 1899, Mr. Jackson's larger scheme 
 was approved by 96 votes to 58, and powers were given 
 to the Syndicate to obtain the necessary specifications and 
 tenders. 
 
 At last, on the 26th October 1899, another (22) Syndicate 
 was appointed to superintend the erection of the Museum, 
 and they were requested to co-operate with the Law School 
 and Library Buildings Syndicate, and the Botany Building 
 Syndicate, since all these buildings were being set up on 
 the new Downing Site at approximately the same time. In 
 their final Report it appeared that the cost of the building,
 
 332 y- <^s Secretary to the Museums 
 
 including the fees of the architect and of the clerk of the works, 
 came to a little below 1^50,000. Towards this sum rather 
 more than half of this, just over o^26,000, was subscribed by 
 the Sedgwick Memorial Trustees ; ^ the Common University 
 Fund furnished XT3,000 and the Syndics of the Press 
 .£'6000, whilst a benefaction from Mr. Latham, Master of 
 Trinity Hall, for the beautifying of the building added 
 about ^900. 
 
 That these Syndicates were exceptionally numerous, and in 
 fact that it was normal to have one in session although 
 little came of its deliberations, is shown by the pathetic 
 outcry of Professor Hughes'' Annual Report for 1899: 
 "There is not even a Syndicate sitting to consider the dis- 
 posal of the money subscribed with a view to erecting a 
 new Museum in honour of Professor Sedgwick." The un- 
 certainty when the building could be begun, and still more 
 when it could be finished, hampered in every way the activities 
 of the Department. 
 
 Geology has waited long for the Sedgwick Museum, but 
 it has not waited in vain. When, on 1st March 1904, 
 King Edward VII, accompanied by Queen Alexandra and 
 Princess Victoria, opened the Sedgwick IVIuseum, he opened 
 the most spacious, the most stately of all the scientific 
 Museums in the University. 
 
 Professor Hughes records in his Annual Report for 1904 
 that the vast collections stored in CockerelTs Building were 
 now transferred to the Sedgwick Museum, and partially 
 arranged. In the same Report we learn that he was giving 
 a helping hand to Geography, which has even yet not found 
 a home for itself. The space set free in CockerelPs Building 
 naturally went to the Library. Owing to the generosity of 
 the Goldsmiths' Company, the Syndics of the University 
 Library have been able to fit the old Woodwardian Museum 
 
 ' Whilst all these Syndicates had been talking, the original fund 
 collected in Professor Sedgwick's honour had been working, and had 
 almost doubled itself in about thirty years.
 
 3\dmeraIogy 333 
 
 with iron bookcases in which about 400,000 volumes can 
 eventually be stored. 
 
 To return for a moment to Mineralogy. As we have seen,^ 
 a Syndicate had been appointed in February 1853 to advise 
 how Dr. Walker's botanic garden might be legally acquired 
 by the University, and to prepare a scheme for new museums 
 and lecture-rooms. In their Keport they include a most 
 careful and detailed account of the requirements of the dif- 
 ferent departments. They tell the Senate "that the Minera- 
 logical Museum is now arranged in a room under the new 
 wing of the University Library, which is by no means 
 sufficient for the display of the Collection. But the Professor 
 is compelled to carry on his private investigations in the 
 vaults below . , , and he is unprovided with a laboratory." 
 I do not know at which end of CopkerelPs building this room 
 was, but whichever end it was the Professor of Geology 
 coveted it. The suggestion mentioned above to erect a new 
 building was well received by the Senate but rendered nugatory 
 by want of funds, and so the proposal lapsed till early in the 
 sixties, when there seems to have been more money. After a 
 good deal of discussion and some delay, the Mineralogical 
 Museum was installed by 1866 on the first floor of the western 
 wing of Salvin's building. With the solitary exception of the 
 Museum of Comparative Anatomy, it alone occupies the rooms 
 where it was placed forty-six years ago. 
 
 The end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the 
 twentieth was a period of great building activity. Not only 
 was the Sedgwick Memorial Museum rising from the ground, 
 but the new Botanical School, the Medical School, and the 
 Squire Law Library and the Lecture Rooms were all in 
 process of construction. The Professor of Botany had been 
 annually complaining of the overcrowded state of his laboratory, 
 and he records in his 1898 Report that a Syndicate has been 
 appointed " to consider what steps should be taken for the erec- 
 
 1 p. 303.
 
 334 "J- ^^ Secretary to the Museujns 
 
 tion of new buildings for the Department of Botany." In the 
 following year, he reports that the Syndicate are in favour of 
 placing the building on the Downing site, and that the Council 
 have reported in favour of apportioning a sum of money for 
 building a INIuseum, Herbarium, Library, the necessary Lecture 
 Rooms, Laboratories, Workrooms, and Research Rooms, from 
 the Benefaction Fund. The position approved by the Senate 
 was on the Downing site, about equidistant from the east and 
 west boundary. Mr. W. C. Marshall, M.A. (Trin.), was chosen 
 as architect; the tender was accepted in March 1901, and the 
 building was opened by King Edw^ard VII on 1st March 1904. 
 On the same day, besides the Sedgwick ]\Iuseum and the Botany 
 School, the King opened the Squire Law Library and the 
 Medical Schools. 
 
 A Syndicate had been appointed, in March 1899, to consider 
 what steps should be taken to erect a Law School and Library 
 on part of the Downing ground. In May 1900, they reported 
 in favour of " the north side of the ground — the Librarv to 
 be built adjacent to the Geological INIuseum, and the School on 
 part of the remaining north front of the ground adjacent to 
 the Library. They are happy to report that they have received 
 an extremely munificent oft'er, from the Trustees under the will 
 of the late Miss R. F. Squire, to defray the cost of the Library 
 and of furnishing it with internal fittings." It was the wish 
 of the Trustees that the Squire Law Library should " form a 
 distinct and self-contained part of the whole building," thouo-h 
 they raised no objections to the main entrance and staircase 
 affording access to the professors' rooms and class rooms. As 
 is mentioned above,^ a certain sum of ]\Ir. Henry Latham's 
 benefaction was devoted to the embellishment of the buildino-s 
 on the Downing Street site. The expense of the porter's lodge 
 which was then erected and of the Law Lecture Rooms was 
 borne by the University. The proposals of the Syndicate were 
 accepted by the Senate in June 1900. The University was 
 
 ^ p. 332.
 
 Tathology 335 
 
 fortunate enough again to secure the services of Mr. T. G. 
 Jackson, to whose genius we owe this fine entrance to the 
 Downing grounds, now being fast covered with Laboratories 
 and Museums. 
 
 A buildino; was also rising on the other side of the street. 
 We have seen ^ that, when Chemistry vacated the okl buildings 
 in the north-east corner of the southern court, Pathology stepped 
 in. The accommodation, however, was not only inadequate, 
 but bad. Part of the building dated from 1786, and all of it 
 was in poor repair, insanitary, and in just the sort of state 
 that a pathological laboratory should not be. Professor 
 Sims Woodhead, who had succeeded Professor Kanthack in 
 1899, reports in his Annual Report for 1899 that " the 
 buildings are very difficult to keep in repair," and deprecates 
 spending further money on them. The state of the Octagon, 
 which dated from 1832-3, was even worse. After the Human 
 Anatomists had vacated it in 1891, it had in the main been 
 used for the teaching of Surgery and Obstetrics. Here also 
 was a room used by the Lecturer in Medical Jurisprudence, 
 and here possibly one or two other Medical Teachers had 
 their centre, but whoever worked there did so under conditions 
 of great discomfort. " It is impossible to keep the roof in 
 repair, and as a result the ceilings and walls are always in one 
 part or another soaked with wet, and sometimes the rooms 
 and passages are flooded." Thus writes Mr. J. Griffiths, the 
 Reader in Surgery, in his report for 1898. In the following 
 year, he mentions that the presence of dry-rot is more extensive 
 than ever ; and that whilst the rain is dripping in from above 
 the dry-rot is creeping up from below. The sole accommodation 
 for the Regius Professor of Physic (Sir George Paget) ^ was a 
 tiny room at the western end of the Philosophical Library, and 
 Dr. Paget until he died made an amiable and annual protest 
 against this absurdly inadequate apartment. 
 
 Perhaps the Downing Professor of Medicine was better off 
 ^ p. 314. "" 1872-1892.
 
 336 y. as Secretary to the JVIuseums 
 
 than the others, for he had hired certain rooms from Downing 
 College, and there had organised a small Pharmacological 
 Laboratory. It was felt on all sides that something must be 
 done, and, in March 1899, a Syndicate was appointed "to con- 
 sider what steps should be taken for the erection of new build- 
 ings for the Medical School." The site had already been fixed 
 by Grace in November 1897. It ran along the north side of 
 Downing Street, leaving a considerable gap between it and the 
 east end of the Chemical Laboratory, until it reached Corn 
 Exchange Street ; and here the plan was to continue the build- 
 ing up to the south-east corner of Fawcett's second building, but 
 funds proved insufficient, and less than a third of this " return " 
 has been built. The site of this has however been cleared ; 
 and all the old 1786 buildings have now gone. It is greatly 
 to be hoped that the Medical School will in the near future 
 be completed. 
 
 The 1899 Syndicate recommended that the subjects of 
 Medicine, Surgery, Pathology, Pharmacology, and Public Health 
 be all accommodated in the proposed new building, and that a 
 Museum, which in view of Sir George Humphry's great services 
 to the University should be called the Humphry Museum, be 
 erected. Mr. E. S. Prior, M.A. of Gonville and Caius College, 
 now Slade Professor of Fine Art, was chosen as architect, and 
 tenders were accepted in May 1901. Since on the site allotted 
 to the new Schools there were buildings in which Pathologists, 
 Surgeons, etc., were then working, it became necessary to find 
 temporary accommodation for them whilst the existing build- 
 ings were being pulled down and the new ones put up. 
 As usual, allied departments did what they could by lending 
 lecture rooms, etc., but most of the pathological work was 
 transferred to the offices remembered by many of us as the 
 first home of the Cambridge Scientific Instrument Company 
 in St. Tibbs' Row. Surgery however retired to 16 Mill Lane 
 and the adjoining granary, where also the pathological speci- 
 mens were carefully stored. 
 
 The new building proceeded at a rapid pace, and, although
 
 School of 3V[edicine 337 
 
 not completed, was in a sufficiently advanced state to be opened 
 by the King on his visit of 1st March 1904. Considerable sums 
 were contributed to its cost from outside ; over .^GOOO came from 
 the Endowment Fund, and Lady Humphry's family and a few 
 friends defrayed the expenses of fitting up the Humphry Museum. 
 Although the existing jNIedical Schools are barely two-thirds 
 the size at first contemplated, they manage in a very cramped 
 sort of way to accommodate Medicine, Surgery, Pathology, 
 Pharmacology, Medical Jurisprudence, Hygiene, Vaccination, 
 and even to find a corner for the Reader in Ethnology, and, in 
 a laro^er but very inconvenient Laboratory under the Humphry 
 Museum, for the Quick Professor of Biology, whose chair was 
 founded in 1906. The overcrowding is however very apparent, 
 and it is hoped that before long the gap opposite the Arcade 
 will be filled in, when this piece of Richard Walker's Botanic 
 Garden will again bear University buildings as it did one 
 hundred and twenty-seven years ago. When this gap is filled, 
 the site he bought and gave to the University in 1762 will, 
 practically, be fully occupied. Before passing on, it should be 
 mentioned that the authorities of the Medical School com- 
 bined in 1909 with the authorities of the Agricultural School 
 and those of the School of Physiology in purchasing five acres 
 of land on the Milton Road for the purposes of an experi- 
 mental plot for animal breeding, animal diseases, etc. This 
 area is now adequately provided with farm buildings and a 
 caretaker's house. 
 
 Nor must we forget to mention that the staircase in 
 Salvin's building between the Zoological Lecture Room and 
 the Philosophical Library was removed in 1908, and in its 
 place three fair-sized rooms were constructed. The ground- 
 floor room is at present used by the Arthur Balfour Professor 
 of Biology. The others are allocated to the Department of 
 Morphology. 
 
 The next building we have to deal with, the School of 
 Agriculture, is the result of a remarkable movement started
 
 
 8 y. as Secretary to the 31useums 
 
 by a letter, dated 25th July 1890, addressed by Mr. Henry 
 Chaplin, then President of the Board of Agriculture, to the 
 eighth Duke of Devonshire, our Chancellor. The purport 
 of the letter was to ask if the University could see its way 
 to undertake the training of agricultural teachers and experts. 
 Although, in the opinion of some members of the Senate, 
 this subject was not at all a proper study for University 
 instruction, a Syndicate was appointed which in time suggested 
 a fairly complete scheme for a Department of Agriculture. 
 However, as usual, there was little or no money available, and 
 after reconsideration a revised and more modest scheme of an 
 Examination for a Diploma in Agriculture was put forward 
 and accepted by the Senate in November 1893. It was 
 obvious that if this Examination should prove a success, 
 Cambridge must provide teaching. Professor Liveing and 
 Professor Hughes, who had both taken the keenest interest 
 in the movement, interviewed the authorities of the County 
 Councils of the Eastern Counties, and from these interviews 
 arose the Cambridge and Counties Agricultural Education 
 Conunittee. This Conmiittee, with the aid of certain moneys 
 granted by the Board of Agriculture and by some of the 
 County Councils, started in January 1893 with one or two 
 teachers to instruct seven students. In six years the numbers 
 had grown to twenty-five, and then the University took the 
 work over. 
 
 One of the earliest benefactors to the School was Sir 
 Walter Gilbey, who gave a sum of ,^25 a year for twenty-one 
 years to endow a Lectureship in the History and Economics of 
 Agriculture (1896), and later (1898) an endowment of 1^200 
 for ten years to provide the stipend for a University Lecture- 
 ship in Agriculture. This was coupled with the condition 
 that the University should institute a Special Examination in 
 the subject, so that a student might graduate in Agriculture. 
 Such a condition needed consideration, and whilst it was being 
 considered two events happened. The Secretary of the Board 
 of Agriculture and Fisheries intimated that, if the subject were
 
 School of Agriculture 339 
 
 officially recognised, the Board would endeavour materially to 
 increase its annual grant ; and, secondly, the Drapers' Company 
 offered to provide the stipend of a Professor for ten years, 
 should the University establish a Professorship of Agriculture 
 and create an Agricultural Department. These proposals were 
 formally accepted by Grace of the Senate in March 1899. 
 
 To the first Professor, Dr. W. Somerville (1899-1902), 
 and to the help of Mr. W. A. Macfarlane-Grieve of Clare 
 College, the University owed its first experimental farm, at 
 Impington. Some years later the Impington Farm was 
 given up, and a holding of 230 acres belonging to Trinity 
 and Clare Colleges, near to the Observatory, was taken. Con- 
 tiguous to the eastern boundary of this farm is a plot of 
 ground on which a house and other buildings are now 
 being erected for the use of the Balfour Professor of Biology. 
 
 Under the second Professor, Mr. T. H. Middleton (1902-7), 
 efforts were made to raise money to pay for a permanent 
 home. Up to April 1910 the Department had been housed, 
 thanks to the kindness of Professor Liveing, in some half 
 dozen rooms of no great size, in a basement under the large 
 students'" room in the older (1889) block of the Chemical 
 Laboratory. The need for new buildings was pressing, as 
 the accommodation was unsuitable and entirely inadequate. 
 The Drapers' Company, with its habitual generosity, offered 
 rit^oOOO " provided that ,£^5000 could be raised elsewhere." 
 The Chancellor, the late Duke of Devonshire, with the assist- 
 ance of the Cambridge University Association, raised the 
 second ^5000 before his last illness. He had, indeed, the 
 matter much at heart, and not long before his death asked 
 his nephew to help in getting the remaining ,£'10,000 for the 
 building, and allowance for upkeep. The present Duke readily 
 undertook to help, and in a comparatively short time the 
 amount was collected. A site had been assigned to the south, 
 and parallel to the School of Botany, and plans were prepared 
 by Mr. Arnold Mitchell, F.R.I.B.A. They were accepted, the 
 building was finished, and on 26th April 1910 it was opened
 
 340 y- ^s Secretary to the 3VIuseums 
 
 by the present Duke of Devonshire, who had helped so materi- 
 ally in rendering its erection possible. Although opened to 
 students less than four years ago, the press of work — some 
 of it undertaken for the Government — and the increase in the 
 numbers of students, has squeezed the Reader of Forestry and 
 his Department out of the building, and has already necessitated 
 a considerable increase in the accommodation. Additional 
 buildings forming an extension of the old School towards 
 Tennis Court Iload are now (1913) all but complete. 
 
 In the meantime the Department of Forestry has taken 
 temporary refuge in an ancient house close to the northern end 
 of Free School Lane, but a site has been assigned to it in the 
 south-east angle of the Downing site, plans have been prepared, 
 and the buildings for our School of Forestry are now rising. 
 
 When Agriculture vacated the rooms they had so long 
 used in the basement of the Chemical Laboratory, they were 
 adapted for use as a Metallurgical Laboratory. In 1908 the 
 Goldsmiths' Company most generously gave ,^10,000 to 
 endow a Goldsmiths'' Reader in Metallurgy, and in 1910, when 
 Agriculture moved out, the Company increased the gratitude 
 felt towards them by the University by making the necessary 
 alterations in, and by providing the necessary fittings for, the 
 Metallurtjical Laboratory. 
 
 Three buildings remain to be mentioned on the Downing 
 site. One of them, the Laboratory of Psycho-physics, is com- 
 pleted ; of the other two, such portions of the Museum of 
 Archjeology and Ethnology and the new Physiological Labora- 
 tory as it has been found possible to erect are approaching 
 completion. 
 
 The Museum of Ethnology was very dear to J.'s heart, in 
 fact it was one of the many things he helped to start in the 
 University. Writing on the 27th April 1883 in his Annual 
 Report, J. records : — 
 
 " In the last place I have to mention that my friend 
 A. P. Maudslay, M.A. of Trinity Hall, has deposited in
 
 3^useum of Ethnology 341 
 
 my charge a portion of the large and important Collection 
 of arms, dresses, ornaments, domestic utensils, pottery, 
 and other objects which he made in Fiji and the adjacent 
 islands. It is more than probable that he will present the 
 whole Collection to the University at no distant date ; and 
 it will serve as the nucleus of a Museum of Ethnology, the 
 importance of which in connection with Biological studies 
 is now generally recognised." 
 
 For a time J. kept the Collection in his private room at the 
 Museums, but the following year the Museum of General and 
 Local Archaeology and of Ethnology was opened, and an un- 
 suspected wealth of ethnological objects was gradually revealed. 
 The Maudslay Collection, greatly increased at a later date, still 
 forms one of the most important gifts to the Museum. At 
 best the Museum was but a long narrow gallery with two or 
 three inconvenient rooms attached to it. For years it had 
 been overcrowded, and for years many of the more important 
 objects have been stored away in a disused malting-house at 
 Newnham. It was felt that something must be done, yet 
 nobody did anything. Finally the Curator, Baron Anatole 
 von Hiigel, who has devoted his life to the Museum, took the 
 matter in hand and, almost entirely by his own exertions, got 
 together the money for the new Museum. The generous con- 
 tributions of the old and well-known Cambridge family of 
 Foster alone made the building possible. 
 
 Such portion of the building as it has proved possible 
 hitherto to put up contains a large Museum with a wide gallery, 
 certain unpacking rooms and workrooms, and two or three 
 private rooms for the Curator and the Reader in Ethnology. 
 The building extends from the west side of the Law School 
 up to the corner of Tennis Court Road, and then turns a little 
 way south along that thoroughfare. The plan, like that of 
 the neighbouring Law School, is by Sir. T. G. Jackson, R.A. 
 The Collections began to be moved into the Museum in 1912. 
 
 The Laboratory of Psycho-physics, which was begun in May 
 1911, and is now completed, is again due to the energy of one
 
 man. 
 
 42 J' <^^ Secretary to the J^useums 
 
 Dr. C. S. Myers, who by his own exertions collected 
 just under o^4000, the majority of which was given by his 
 own family. The handsome building is a splendid contrast 
 to the decayed, rat-infested cottages in Mill Lane, in which, 
 in spite of their surroundings. Dr. Myers, Dr. Rivers, and 
 others have done such remarkable work. The plans for this 
 building, and of the new Physiological Laboratory, and of the 
 last named were again due to Sir T. G. Jackson. 
 
 The fact that Physiology will shortly be able to move 
 across Downing Street is again largely due to the generosity 
 of the Drapers' Company, who have done so much for the 
 Department of Agriculture. In 1910, they offered the Uni- 
 versity the sum of i'SSjOOO, which was, after some discussion, 
 dedicated to a new laboratory for Physiology. This sum does 
 not, at present, permit the building of Lecture Rooms, and 
 the Department of Bio-Chemistry is not provided for ; but 
 since 1911 some more thousands have come in, and it is hoped 
 shortly to complete the building in all its branches. 
 
 This completes the account of the Downing site. On 
 the old Botanic Garden site, or rather on the site of Mr. 
 Mortlock's garden, are two large buildings, recently erected, 
 the Examination Rooms and the new Lecture Rooms. The 
 former covers the eastern side, and very nearly fills the northern 
 boundary of the Court. It was opened in 1909, and contains 
 two rooms, both 106 feet in length, but the larger is 51 feet 
 wide and 30 feet high ; the smaller, which can be divided 
 into two, is 30 feet wide and 16 feet high. The Examination 
 Rooms were designed by Mr. William Marshall in a style of 
 restrained simplicity, which harmonises well with the Salvin 
 building opposite and the Fawcett building on the east. 
 
 The new Lecture Rooms, the last building we have to do 
 with, were first used in the Lent Term 1911. It is intended for 
 Literary, Historical, Economic, Philosophical, Mathematical, 
 and other lectui'es. These Lecture Rooms have a handsome 
 and well-proportioned fa(^-ade, too much of which is unhappily 
 hidden. The architect was Mr. George Hubbard, F.S.A.
 
 Lectuf^e ^I^oms 343 
 
 With the exception of an entrance court from Bene't Street, 
 roughly coinciding with the area of the Lady INlargaret Pro- 
 fessor of Divinity's slaughter-house, which lay between them 
 and the Rayleigh Wing of the Cavendish Laboratory, the 
 Mortlock site is entirely built over. 
 
 When the Plumian, the Lucasian, and the Lowndean Pro- 
 fessors moved into the somewhat inadequate quarters assigned 
 to them in these new Lecture Rooms, the former rooms of the 
 Plumian and Lowndean Professors, which had been made into 
 one some years ago, were, together with the Philosophical 
 Society's Council Room, used as Lecture Rooms for the advanced 
 class in connexion with the Department of Morphology. And 
 at the time of writing (1913), the Optical Lecture Room, 
 so long used by the Lucasian Professors, is being converted 
 into a spacious Library, where the Balfour, the Newton, the 
 Norman, and other zoological Libraries will be housed. 
 
 This chronicle, inadequate as I know it to be, is a record 
 of a great growth — I think an unparalleled growth — of build- 
 ings devoted to the advancement of Natural Science in our 
 country. They have been built up by many hands, but no one 
 had a larger share in their building than J.
 
 n 
 3: 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 'cav/endisVh labor at oRr 
 1872 -3 
 
 H K £ S r h C E 7 
 
 T-r 
 
 THE MUS
 
 < 
 
 -4 
 
 
 O O W A' / 
 
 J MS IN 1873
 
 INDEX 
 
 A.D.C., 93, 102 ; J. elected treasurer, 
 130 ; his work for, 130, 131 ; writes 
 plays for, 238-241 ; anecdotes of 
 J. at, 239-240 ; 255 
 
 Abernethy, John, 2 
 
 Abney, Sir William, 182 
 
 Academy, the, 127 
 
 Ackermann, E., 300 
 
 Acts and Opponencies, 39 
 
 Addenbrooke's Hospital, 19 
 
 Adrienne Lecouvreur , 105 
 
 Affleck, Lady, IS 
 
 Agamemnon, 138 
 
 Agassiz, Louis, 105, 275 
 
 Agriculture and Fisheries, Board of, 
 338, 339 
 
 Agriculture, School of, at Cambridge, 
 337-340 
 
 Airy, Sir G. B., 115 
 
 Ajax, 138, 225, 228 
 
 Alaska Commercial Company, 276, 287 
 
 Albert, Prince Consort, oi ; his in- 
 stallation at Cambridge, 61-64 ; 
 173, 174 
 
 Alberti family, 202 
 
 Alderson, F. J., 69, and note 
 
 Alexander, Wm., Bp., 52 
 
 Alexandra, Queen, 176, 182, 332 
 
 Algeria, 118 
 
 All Saints' Church, 21, 95, 257 
 
 Allport, M., 269 
 
 Alps, 77-80, 155 
 
 Amiens, 161 
 
 Amsterdam, 152 
 
 Anatomy, Comparative, Museum of, 
 its history, 261-275 ; Dr. W. Clark's 
 efforts for, 263 ; Macartney col- 
 lection bought 1836, 264 ; Swain- 
 son collection of birds acquired 
 1840, lb.; Blackwood collection 
 presented 1846, ib. ; Goodacre 
 Museum of Vertebrate Animals 
 acquired 1863, ib. ; collections 
 removed from Anatomical Schools 
 to present quarters, 1866, ib. ; J. 
 appointed Superintendent, ib. ; E. 
 
 T. Lowe's and C. Darwin's collec- 
 tion of fishes arranged, 264, 265 ; 
 Sir Busick Harwood's collection, 
 265 ; Schroder van der Kolk col- 
 lection presented by Prof. Hum- 
 phry, ih.; Pevensey whale acquired, 
 26. /Strickland collection presented, 
 1867, 266 ; Woodward collection of 
 shells arranged, 267 ; catalogue 
 of the Cambridge collection of 
 invertebrata, prepared by W. S. 
 Kent and J., 1868, ih. ; Sir E. New- 
 ton's skeletons of the Dodo and 
 Solitaire presented, 267, 268 ; 
 Swainson, Strickland, Selby and 
 other collections arranged, 1869, 
 268 ; skeleton of a sea otter pre- 
 sented by Prof. Humphry, 269 ; 
 Tasmanian marsupials presented 
 by M. Allport, ib. ; collections of 
 invertebrata made during voyage 
 of the Beagle presented by C. 
 Darwin, 1870, ih. ; collection of 
 reptiles, birds, &c., from C. F. 
 Tyrwhitt Drake, ih. ; library in 
 connexion with, commenced, ib. ; 
 Hepburn collection given, 270 ; 
 Brown collection of British in- 
 sects acquired \%l\,ib.; collection 
 of insects arranged by G. R. 
 Crotch, ib. ; classes for practical 
 work in Comparative Anatomy 
 first begun in 1871, 270, 271 ; Mac- 
 Andrew collection of shells acquired 
 
 1873, 272 ; post of Demonstrator to 
 the Professor of Zoology and Com- 
 parative Anatomy established, 273 ; 
 Strickland Curatorship founded 
 
 1874, ib. ; 0. Salvin first Curator, 
 ih. ; Crotch collection of European 
 coleoptera acquired, 274; skeletons 
 of African mammals presented by 
 T. E. Buckley, ib. ; Hamilton col- 
 lection presented 1875, ih. ; new 
 buildings commenced 1876, com- 
 pleted 1878, 275. 
 
 345
 
 46 
 
 Index 
 
 Anatomy, Comparative. Sec also 
 
 Zoology and Comparative Anatomy, 
 
 Museum of. 
 Anatomy, Human, Museum of, .3, 4, 
 
 14 ; housed in the Octagon, 297, 
 
 314,315; new buildings completed, 
 
 1891, 316 
 Ancien Regime, 205 
 Anti - Dining - in-Hall - on - Sunday -be- 
 
 cause-of-the-Squash Club, 29 
 Antiquarian Society, see Cambridge 
 
 Antiquarian Society. 
 Antiquaries, Society of, 139 
 Arcade, the, 299 note, 337 
 Archaeological Institute of Great 
 
 Britain, 141. 158, 173 
 Archasology. Museum of General and 
 
 Local, and of Ethnology, 340, 341 
 Architectural History of the University 
 
 and Colleges of Cambridge, 11, 55 ; 
 
 J. at work on the, 124, 125 ; origin 
 
 of the, 141; published in 1886, 
 
 142, 143, 144 
 Ardinghelli family, 203 
 Aries, 108 
 
 Arrington, Cambs., 4 
 Arsenal, Bibliotheque de 1', 152, 1G9 
 Arthur, the decorator, 101 
 Arts School, 302, 331 
 Asquith, Rt. Hon. H. H., 199 
 Assisi, 166 
 Assommoir, L', 167 
 Athanasian Creed, 113 
 Athens, 181 
 Atkinson, T. D., 162 
 Auxerre, 156, 199, 200 
 Aysgarth, 142 
 Aytoun, W. E., 80, and note 
 
 Babington, C. C, 60 
 
 Baillie, Matthew, 10 
 
 Baird, S. F.. 287 
 
 Baker, Sir Samuel, 267 
 
 Balfour, V. M., 120; his death, 135, 
 136 ; memorial to, 137, 138 ; 158, 
 159 ; his classes in Animal Mor- 
 phology, 274, 276, 277, 307, 311; 
 appointed Professor of Animal 
 Morjihology, 280 ; 308, 
 
 Balfour, Gerald, 212 
 
 Balfour, Reg., 166, 192 
 
 Balfour Library, 269, 282, 343 
 
 Balzac, H. de, 189 
 
 Bancroft Company, 246, 247 
 
 [Jarante Chfiteau, 196, 197 
 
 Barclay's Bank, 161, 310 
 
 Barnay, 225 
 
 Barnes Pool Bridge, 57 
 
 Barnwell, 163, 200, 307 
 
 Bartet, Mile., 234, 244, 251 
 
 Bartholomew, A. T., 185, 187 
 
 Barton Road, 44 
 
 Batemau Street, 28 
 
 Bateson, W. H., 294 
 
 Battersea, Lord, 240 
 
 Bavaria, 76 
 
 Beadon, Mrs., 90 
 
 Beagle, H.M.S., 259, 265, 269 
 
 Belgium, 15 
 
 Belgrade, 177, 178 
 
 Bell, Thos., 259 
 
 Benefactors, Commemoration of, 181 
 
 Bene't Street, 343 
 
 Benson, A. C, his reminiscences of J., 
 227-230 
 
 Benson, F, R., 252 
 
 Bentinck, F., 254 
 
 Bentlej', Richard, 93, 185 
 
 Bering's Island, 286, 287 
 
 Berkeley, Hon. C. P. F., 277 
 
 Berlin, 99, 121-123 
 
 Bernard, St., 157 
 
 Bernhardt, Sarah, 234, 242 
 
 Besancon, 154 
 
 Besant, W. H., 124 
 
 Beverley, R. M., 33 
 
 Beverley, Yorks., 158 
 
 Beylard, M., 131 
 
 Biarritz, 127 
 
 Bibliotheque Mazarine, 169 
 
 Bibliotheque Nationale, 76, 152 
 
 Bijou Theatre, Camb., 161, 162 
 
 Biology, Balfour Prof, of, 337, 340; 
 Quick Prof, of, 337 ; School of, 4, 5 
 
 Bird Room, sec under Anatomy, Com- 
 parative, Museum of, and Zoology 
 and Comp. Anat., Mus. of, 
 
 Birds of Aristophanes, 225, 228 
 
 Blackman, F. F., 304 
 
 Blackwood, Capt. F. P., 264, 268 
 
 Blomfield, Bp., 2 
 
 Boccaccio, G., 202 
 
 Bologna, 201 
 
 Bond, Dr., 61, 67 
 
 Bonham, Sir Eric, 122 note 
 
 Bonham, Sir Geo., 167, 177 
 
 Bonham, Lionel, 122 note 
 
 Bonham, Louisa, Lady, 114, 118, 168, 
 and note 
 
 Boni, Giacomo, 222 
 
 Bonney, T. G., 90 
 
 Bordeaux, 212 
 
 Borghese, Prince, 168 
 
 Borgia, Cdsar, 150
 
 Indi 
 
 ex 
 
 347 
 
 Borgia, Lucrezia, 150 
 
 Botanic Garden, 14, 82, 271, 297; 
 its history, 298-301 ; removal to 
 Trumpington Rd., 302, 303 ; new 
 buildings on the site of the old, 
 304-309 ; purchases made by the 
 University to round off the site, 
 309-311 ; 331,342 
 
 Botany School, 302, 303, 304 ; rooms 
 added to the Herbarium, 1884, 312 ; 
 moved to Downing Street, 1903, 
 318, 319, 320 ; 333 ; opened by King 
 Edward, 1904, 334 
 
 Bowes, R., 81, 184 
 
 Bradshaw, H., 212, 219, 223 
 
 Brady, H. B., 284,288, 289 
 
 Brandt, Prof., 287 
 
 Braybrooke, Lord, 165, and note, 182 
 
 Bressant. J. B. P., 234, 235, 255 
 
 Bridge Street, 21 
 
 Bridge, T. W., 115, 119 ; assists J. at 
 the Museum, 269 ; 276, 277, 278, 307 
 
 Brington, Northants, 80 
 
 Bristed, C. A., 86 
 
 British Association, 43, 97, 182 
 
 British Museum, 125, 275, 325 
 
 Brittany, 145 
 
 Brohan, Madeleine, 234 
 
 Brookes' Museum, 263 
 
 Brookfield, C, 239, 240 
 
 Brou, Church of, 153, 156 
 
 Brougham, Lord, 197 
 
 Brown, H. F., 201 
 
 Brown, J. and T., 270 
 
 Brown, John, Vice-Master of Trinity 
 College, 37, 38 
 
 Brown, Rawdon, 222 
 
 Browne, George Adam, 37, 38 
 
 Browning, Oscar, 56, 57 
 
 Browning, Robert, 221 
 
 Buchanan, Sir Andrew, 112, 114, 277 
 
 Buchanan, Edward, 99, and note, 
 112 
 
 Buchanan, Sir Eric, 112 
 
 Buchanan, Frances Matilda, see Clark, 
 Frances Matilda (Mrs. J.) 
 
 Buchanan, Rt. Hon. Sir George, 114, 
 125, and note 
 
 Buckley, T. E., 267, 269, 274 
 
 Budgett, J. S., 181, 182, and note 
 
 Bulgaria, 178 
 
 Bullar, J. F., 275, 276 
 
 Burghclere, Lord, 238, 239 
 
 Burke, Edmund, 9 
 
 Burney, Fanny, 8 
 
 Burwell Fen, 283 
 
 Butler, H. M.,90 
 
 Butler, Samuel,! 1902, 81 
 Byron, Lord, 2, 3 ; his Childe Harold, 
 106; 179, 189 
 
 Calakzuoli, of Bologna, 263 
 
 Caldwell, W. H., 282 
 
 Calverley, C. S. , 87, 90 
 
 Cam, River, 22, 83, 129 
 
 Cambridge and Counties Agricultural 
 Education Committee, 338 
 
 Cambridge Antiquarian Society, 125, 
 139, 145 
 
 Cambridge : Brief Historical and 
 Descriptive Notes, 15 
 
 Cambridge Described and Illustrated, 
 163 
 
 Cambridge Natural History, 149 
 
 Cambridge Philosophical Society, 47, 
 139 ; history of, and its Museum, 
 257-261 ; 267, 288, 278 
 — Library, 257 ; removed into its 
 present quarters 1881, 278, 309 ; J. 
 librarian to, 295, 296 ; 297, 304 
 
 Cambridge Portfolio, 257 
 
 Cambridge Review, 18 note; apprecia- 
 tion of J. in, 218 
 
 Cambridge Tart, 34 
 
 Cambridge University Association, 
 298, 339 
 
 Campbell, Frank, 54 
 
 Campbell, Mrs. Patrick, 254 
 
 Camjabell, Captain, 53 
 
 Campbell-Bannerman, Sir H., 208 
 
 Cannes, 145 
 
 Canning, Sir Stratford, 114 
 
 Canterbury, 153, 162 
 
 Capstick, J. W., 203 
 
 " Cardinal's Cap," the, 20 
 
 Care of Books, The, J. begins on, 124 ; 
 publishes it in 1901, 153, 168, and 
 note, 169, 172, and note 
 
 Carter, James, 268 
 
 Cartmell, J., 60, 294 
 
 Carus, W., 62, 64 
 
 Cassell, Petter, & Galpin, Messrs., 
 99 
 
 Caste, 246 
 
 Castle Hill, 82 
 
 Cavendish Laboratory, gateway in, 
 300, 301 ; Professorship of Experi- 
 mental Physics established, 1871, 
 305; 306,309, 312; Rayleigh wing 
 of, 299, 305, 310, 343 
 
 Certaldo, 201-203 
 
 Cesena, 153, 167 
 
 Chaise-Dieu, La, 185 
 
 Champs Elys^es, 129
 
 3+8 
 
 Iftdex 
 
 Chancellor's Medals, 41 
 Chaplin, Henry, 338 
 Charteris, Hon. A., 240 
 Chemical Laboratory, 301 note ; addi- 
 tion to, in 1872, 306 ; new buildings, 
 1889, 313 ; further extensions, 313, 
 314 ; 328 
 Chesterton, 44 
 Chevallier, Temple, 14 
 Childe Harold, 106 
 Chinese pig described, 72, and note 
 Chisendale-Marsh, Mr., 130 
 Christ's College Lodge, 14, 67 
 Christ's Piece, 82 
 " Christopher Inn," the, 57 
 Church Congress, 209 
 Cicero, 76 
 
 Citeaux, 154 ; library of, 152, 153 
 Clairvaux, library of, 152, 153 
 Clare College, 82, 153 
 Clare Hall Piece, 44 
 Clark, E. C, 91 
 
 Clark, Edward Mellish (J.'s elder 
 son), his birth, 120; at Harrow, 
 145 ; his illness in 1892, 148 ; visits 
 France with J. in 1895, 157 ; at 
 Davos, 166; his marriage, 1901, 
 169 ; removes to Scroope House 
 1906, 190; at Royat with J., 192 
 Clark, Frances Matilda (Mrs. J.), her 
 engagement to J., 1873, 112; influ- 
 ence on J., 113 ; her jjarents, 114 ; 
 marriage, 118 ; letter on a perform- 
 ance at the A.D.C., 131-133 ; her 
 illness in 1888, 144, 145 ; 1907, 191, 
 192 ; death, 1908, 200 ; work and 
 character, 200, 201 
 Clark, John, M.D. (J.'s grandfather), 1 
 Clark, John Willis— 
 Ufe: 
 called " J." and " J. W.," 1 note 
 his ancestry, 1-15 
 birth, 1833, 13 
 early childhood, 14, 15 
 early education, 52 
 boyhood, 52, 53 
 his friendship with the Pember- 
 
 ton family, 53, 54 
 at Eton, 1847-1851, 54-75 
 Eton schoolfellows, 69 
 his "Vale" on leaving Eton, 75 
 goes abroad with Holden, 1852, 
 
 76-80 
 Alpine adventure, 78-80 
 enters Trinity, 1852, 80 
 his undergraduate days, 84-91 
 his rooms in Trinity, 84 
 
 Clark, J. W. — Life {continued) 
 his tutors, 85, 86 
 visits Paris, 1853, 87 ; Germany, 
 
 87-89 
 elected a Scholar of Trinity, 1855, 
 
 89 
 takes his degree, 1856, ih. 
 tour in Norway, 90 
 tour in France, 1857, ih. 
 elected to a Fellowship at Trin- 
 ity, 1858, 91 
 plans an edition of Aristotle's De 
 
 Partihus Animalium, 93 
 begins to collect Cambridge 
 
 literature, ib. 
 visits France and Italy, 1858-9, 
 
 94 
 begins his diary in 1860, 95 
 reads paper before the Camb. 
 Archit. Soc. on the " Annals 
 of All Saints' Church," ib. 
 lectures on " The Roman Cata- 
 combs," ib. 
 visits the Faroes and Iceland, ib. 
 visits Switzerland and Italy, 
 
 1861,96 
 adventure in Italy, 96, 97 
 advocates a change in the hour 
 
 of dinner at Trinity, 1862, 98 
 visits the Lakes, &c., 1863, ib. 
 at Cassell, Petter, & Galpin's, 
 
 99 
 visits Germany, 1864, ih. 
 influential in removing the 
 
 Doctors' Gallery, 100 
 appointed Superintendent of the 
 Mus. of Comp. Anat., 1866, 
 101 
 appointed Secretary of the 
 Museums and Lect. Rooms 
 Syndicate, ib. 
 visits Paris and Normandy with 
 
 H. Powell, 1867, 104 
 his scientific friends, 104, 105 
 goes abroad with Henry Jackson, 
 
 1868, 105-109 
 death of his father, 1869, 110 
 takes his mother abroad, 1870, ib. 
 his engagement to Miss F. M. 
 
 Buchanan, 1873, 112 
 his marriage, 118 
 birth of his sons, 120 
 visits Berlin, 1875, 121-123 
 begins to work on the Archi- 
 tectiiral History, 1876, 124, 125 
 reads papers before Camb. Antiq. 
 See, 125
 
 Indi 
 
 ex 
 
 349 
 
 Clark, J. W. — Life (continued) 
 
 as Deputy Registrary, 1877-1880, 
 
 126 
 goes with his family to Cromer, 
 
 1878, 126 
 writes articles on French plays 
 
 for the Acfidcmy, 127 
 visits the Paris Exhibition, 1879, 
 
 127, 128 
 alludes to the great storm at 
 
 Cambridge, 129 
 elected Treasurer of the A.D.C., 
 
 1880, 130 
 his interest in the Club, ih. 
 his unpleasant experience in the 
 
 Paris mail, 18'^l, 133, 134 
 visits France, 1882, 135 
 stage manager for Greek plays, 
 
 138 
 presents bust of his father to 
 
 Trinity, 138 
 contributes sketches of Cam- 
 bridge men to the Church 
 
 Quarterly Revieiu, 1883, ih. 
 elected a member of the Council 
 
 of Oxford Hist. Soc. 139 
 Pres. of the Camb. Antiq. Soc, ih. 
 moves to Scroope House, 1885, 
 
 140 
 publishes the Arch. Hist., 1886, 
 
 141-2 
 elected Pres, of the Camb. Phil. 
 
 Soc, 1887-1890, 139 
 Fellow of the Soc, of Antiquaries, 
 
 1888, ih. 
 asked to collaborate with Prof. 
 
 Hughes in the Life of A. 
 
 Sedgwick, 1887, 144 ; published 
 
 1890, 145 
 visits Sedbergh, 1887, 144 ; Dent, 
 
 ih. ; Norwich, ih. 
 begins to translate the Augus- 
 
 tinian Ohservances, 1890, 145; 
 
 published 1897, ih. 
 candidate for the post of Univer- 
 sity Librarian, 1889, 145, 146 
 elected Registrary, 1891, 146 
 resigns posts at the Museums, 
 
 147 
 visits Madeira, 1892, 148, 149 
 his illness in 1892, 149 
 portrait painted by C. M. Newton, 
 
 150 
 visits Paris, 1893, ib. 
 visits Holland, 1894, 151, 152 
 writes papers on libraries, 153 
 delivers Rede Lecture, ih. 
 
 Clark, J. W. — Life {continued) 
 
 visits Eastern France, 153-157 
 
 visits libraries in France, 1895-6, 
 157, 158, 161 
 
 lectures before the Archaeological 
 Institute at Scarborough on 
 libraries, 1895, 158 
 
 issues fly-sheet " Ou Degrees for 
 Women," 160, 161 
 
 visits Paris with Mrs. J., 1897, 
 162 
 
 publishes his Concise Guide, 1898, 
 163 
 
 lectures at Hereford, Preston, 
 Barnwell, ih. 
 
 his silver wedding, 1898, 165, 166 
 
 visits Italy, 1899, 166 
 
 delivers Sandars Lectures, 1900, 
 153 
 
 visits Rome, 1900, 167, 168 
 
 publishes The Care of Books, 1901, 
 153 
 
 visits libraries at Paris, 169 
 
 breaks his arm, 170, 171 
 
 proposal that he should write the 
 Architectural History of Wind- 
 sor Castle, 171-174 
 
 advocates the enclosure of the 
 Eastern Court of Univ. Lib., 
 175 
 
 raises fund for Clergy Training 
 School, 1902, 176 
 
 attends coronation of Edward 
 VII, 176 
 
 description of it, ih. 
 
 receives Hon. Litt.D. degree 
 from Oxford, 177 
 
 visits Paris, 1903, ih. ; Belgrade, 
 ib. ; Constantinople, 178-181 
 
 criticises Report on "The List of 
 Benefactors in the Commemo- 
 ration Service," 181 
 
 prepares Undowme/its of the Uni- 
 versity, 1904, 182 
 
 and Concise Guide to Ely Cathe- 
 dral, ib. 
 
 lectures before the British Assoc, 
 on the " Origin and Growth of 
 the University of Cambridge," 
 ib. 
 
 appeals for funds for Univ. Lib., 
 
 1905, 183. 184 
 prepares edition of Loggan's Can- 
 
 tahrigia Illustrata, 184 
 his ill-health, 184 
 lectures to the Library Associa- 
 tion on the Chapel of King's
 
 50 
 
 Index 
 
 Clark, J. W. — Life {continued) 
 
 College and the Evolution of 
 the Bookcase, 184 
 at Royat, 1905, 184 
 at Paris, 1906, 185 ; Venice, 185, 
 186; Koyat, 186-188; Vichy, 
 189 
 accident in London, 190, 191 
 at Sidmouth, 1907, 191 
 publishes Liber Memorandum Ec- 
 
 clesie de Berneioelle, 192 
 visits Royat, 1907-8, 192-199 
 his description of the Chateau 
 
 Barante, and family, 196, 197 
 publisheswith A. T. Bartholomew 
 a Bibliography of the works of 
 Richard Bentlev, 1908 185 
 his wife's death, 1908, 200 
 its effect on him, 201 
 publishes his " Reminiscences " 
 in Cambridge Review, 1909, 18 ; 
 reprinted in present volume, 
 19-51 
 visits Paris, 1909, 201 ; Italy, 
 
 201-203 
 presentation on his resigning the 
 post of Auditor at Trin. Coll., 
 203 
 publication of the Fasciculus 
 Joanni Willis Clark Dicatus, 
 204 
 his arrangements for the celebra- 
 tion of the centenary of Chas. 
 Darwin, ib. 
 visits Windsor, 205 
 writes Introduction to Fletcher's 
 Oxford and Cambridge Deline- 
 ated, ib. 
 at Royat, 205, 206 
 his last illness, 1910, 207-209 
 resigns Office of Registrary, 209 
 death, ib. 
 Reminiscences : 
 
 by A. C. Benson, 227-230 
 L. Cust, 219-227 
 Lord Desart, 103, 104 
 Henry Jackson, 105-109 
 W. Pollock, chap, xi., 231- 
 
 256 
 Sir H. F. Wilson, 201-203 
 Cliarar.teristics : 
 
 favourite phrases, 18, 211, 217, 
 
 235, 237, 238 
 his views on Greek, 80 
 fond of making '■ asides," 94 
 his disposition when in France, 
 109 
 
 Clark, J. W. — Characteristics (contd.) 
 an enthusiastic gardener, 140 
 affection for his family, 143 
 his political views, 159 
 as a lecturer, 163 
 his kindness and thought for 
 others, 182, 206, 207, 215, 218, 
 219 
 fond of entertaining, 211 
 his dress, 213, 214 
 energy, 214 
 systematic method of keeping 
 
 accounts, 214, 215 
 quick temper, 216, 217 
 power of organisation, 223, 226, 
 
 229 
 love of the Thames, "the sacred 
 
 river," 226 
 love of the theatre, 231-256 
 A t the Museums : 
 his collection of papers called 
 the " History of the Museum," 
 262 
 assists his father in the rearrange- 
 ment of the Osteological Dept., 
 1861, 262 
 rearranges the collections in the 
 Museum of Comp. Anat., 1865, 
 262 
 appointed Superintendent, 1806, 
 
 263 
 removes collections from Ana- 
 tomical Schools into Mus. of 
 Comp. Anat., 264 
 rearranges the Physiological Col- 
 lection, 265 
 his pleasure at the acquisition 
 
 of the Pcvensey whale, ib. 
 with Prof. Newton raises money 
 to house the Swainson and 
 Strickland Collection, 1867, 266 
 with W. S. Kent prepares cata- 
 logue of the invertebrata, 1868, 
 267 
 writes on the vertebrate part of 
 
 the collections, 267, 268 
 secures the assistance of T. W. 
 
 Bridge, 269 
 with T. W. Bridge begins to give 
 courses of practical work, 1871, 
 270, 271 
 on the Narwhal presented by 
 
 his father, 273 
 moves into tho new buildings, 
 
 1878, 1879, 275, 276 
 becomes Secretary to the Museums 
 and Lecture Rooms Syndicate,
 
 Indi 
 
 ex 
 
 351 
 
 Clark, J. W. — At the Museums : (contd.) 
 1880, 297 ; formally appointed 
 by the Senate, 1883, ib. 
 and the fire at the Museums, 
 
 1881,279 
 on the skeleton of Sir J. Phear's 
 
 elephant, 1882, 281 
 begins to arrange and catalogue 
 the exhibited portion of the 
 invertebrata, 1886, 284 
 his account of Steller's "Sea- 
 cow " [Rhytina gigas), 286, 287 
 draws attention to the over- 
 crowding of the Museum, 1888, 
 288 
 plans to transfer the invertebrate 
 collection to the gallerv, 1890, 
 289 
 his resignation from the Mus. of 
 Zoology, 1891, 291 ; succeeded 
 by Dr. S. F. Harmer ib.; his 
 appreciation of J.'s work, z6. ; 
 review of J.'s work, 292, 293 
 resignation from the Museums 
 and Lect. Rooms Syndicate, 
 1891, 316, 317 
 Clark, Lilian (Mrs. Edward), 169, 186, 
 
 207 
 
 Clark, Mary (J.'s mother), entry in 
 
 her diary of marriage to W. Clark, 
 
 11; her character, 12, 13; entries 
 
 in diary concerning J., 13-15; 17, 
 
 18, 57; letters to J. at Eton, 58- 
 
 67 ; an enthusiastic gardener, 59 ; 
 
 account of the Prince Consort's 
 
 installation, 62-64 ; description of 
 
 a family, 65, 66 ; 138 ; her death, 140 
 
 Clark, Susanna (J.'s grandmother), 1 
 
 Clark, Valentine (J.'s granddaughter), 
 
 196 
 Clark, W. G., 32, 84, 85 
 Clark, William, M.D. (J.'s father), 
 his life and work, 2-7 ; called 
 "Bone" Clark, 3 note; 14, 18, 70, 
 262 ; energetic in acquiring zoo- 
 logical specimens for his Museum, 
 263, 265 ; 304 
 Clark, William Henry (J.'s younger 
 son); his birth, 120; wins Scholar- 
 ship at Eton, 145 ; Junior Tomline 
 mathematical prize, 146 ; 149 ; visits 
 France with J., 161 ; wins a Major 
 Scholarship at Trinity, 162 ; passes 
 the I. and H. C. S.' Exam., 166; 
 accepts post in the Board of Trade, 
 ib. ; visits Rome with J., 167 ; his 
 marriage, 183 note ; 209 
 
 Clarke, Edward Daniel (" Stone " 
 Clarke), 3, and note, 43 
 
 Clarke, Capt. H. L. W. , 69, and note 
 
 Clarke, John ("Tone" Clarke). See 
 Clarke-Whitfield, John 
 
 Clarke-Whitfield, John, 3 note 
 
 Classical Tripos, 41 
 
 Clayton, John, the actor, 252-254 
 
 Clergy Training School, 176 
 
 Clermont, 194, 195 
 
 Clieveden, 72 
 
 Cockerell, C. R., 321-323 
 
 Cockerell's Building, 332 
 
 Coe Fen, 140 
 
 Coe Fen Lane, 19 
 
 Col de la Faucille, 155 
 
 Cole, Alfred, 212 
 
 Coleridge, S. T., quoted, 32 
 
 College de Navarre, Library of, 157 
 
 Comddie Frangaise, 108, 232 ; plays 
 and players of, described, 234-237, 
 244, 248-251 ; description of the 
 theatre after the fire, 251, 252 
 
 Commencement Sunday, 44 
 
 Commissioners for Inquiring into 
 State of the University of Cam- 
 bridge, Report of, 1852, 84 
 
 Concise Guide to Ely Cathedral, 182 
 
 Concise Guide to the Town and Univer- 
 sity of Cambridge. 163 
 
 Congregation de la Sainte Croix, 169 
 
 Constantinople, 177-181 
 
 Cooke, A. H., 278, 288, 292 
 
 Cookeslev,Mr., 74 
 
 Cookson,'H. W., 294, 326 
 
 Cooper, C. H., his Memorials quoted, 
 82 
 
 Cooper, John, 84-86 
 
 Coquelin, 234, 245, 246, 251 
 
 Corby, A., 293 
 
 "Cormorants," 46 
 
 Corn Exchange, Camb., 299, and note, 
 316 
 
 Corn Exchange St.. 4, 82, 300, 302, 
 307, 308, 310, 330, 336 
 
 Corporation of Cambridge, 299. 310 
 
 Corpus Christi College, 15, 20, 299, 
 310 
 
 Corrie, G. E., 38 
 
 Cory, William (formerly W. Johnson), 
 54 ; as a master at Eton, 55-57, 68 ; 
 70, 72; description of, 72, 73; 
 writes to Dr. Clark on J.'s progress 
 at Eton, 73-75 
 
 Coulevain, Pierre de, 189 
 
 Coxintry Life, 184, 188 note 
 
 County Courts, 303
 
 352 
 
 Iitde, 
 
 County School, 151 
 
 Crawford, Oswald J. F., 69, and note 
 
 Croizette. Mile., 234, 244 
 
 Cromer, 126. 144 
 
 Crotch, G. K., 261, 270, 273, 274 
 
 Cuffe, Hamilton. Sec Desart, Lord 
 
 Cuinct, P., 154, 155 
 
 Cumming, Isabella, 67 
 
 Gumming, J., 60 
 
 Gust, Lionel, 151 ; at Paris with J., 
 163 ; writes to J. about the pro- 
 posed history of Windsor Castle, 
 171, 172, 174; his reminiscences of 
 J., 219-227 
 
 Cyrano de Bergerac, 245, 246 
 
 Czar und Zimmerman, 89 
 
 Dalby, W. E., 285 
 
 Dalton, J. N., 172-174 
 
 Damon, Dr., 287 
 
 Dandolo, 179 
 
 Danicheff, Les, 243, 244, 253 
 
 Darling, James, 7 
 
 Darwin, Charles, 72 note; centenary 
 of, 204 ; his collection of fishes 
 made during voyage of the Beagle, 
 259, 265, 266, 269 
 
 Darwin, Sir Francis, 304 
 
 Davidson, R. T., Archbishop, 172, 173 
 
 Davos, 166 
 
 Dawkins, Professor Boyd, 105 
 
 Day, Alfred George, 108, 109 
 
 Death, Messrs., 28 
 
 De Bunsen, 171 
 
 Delafont's sale, 263 
 
 Delaunay, 129, 2.34, 236, 244, 245 
 
 Delicate ^Ground, 131, 132 
 
 De Morgan, A., 39, 40, and note, 41 
 
 Denmark, 56 
 
 Dent, 144 
 
 Desart, Lady, 64 
 
 Desart, Lord, an appreciation ot J., 
 103, 104 
 
 Devonshire, 110 
 
 Devonshire, Spencer Compton Caven- 
 dish, eighth Duke of, installation 
 of, 1892, 149 ; 338 ; raises money for 
 the School of Agriculture, 339 
 
 Devonshire, Victor Christian William, 
 ninth Duke of, .•'.39 
 
 Devonshire, William Cavendish, 
 seventh Duke of, 305 
 
 Dew-Smith, A. G., 307 
 
 Dickens, C, 25 
 
 Dijon, 156 
 
 Doctors' Gallery, 100 
 
 Dohrn, A., 282, 283 
 
 X 
 
 D'Orsay, A. comte, 25 
 
 Downing College, 59, 64 
 
 Downing Site, 311, 328, 331, 334, 
 
 340, 342 
 Downing Street, 4, 300, 302, 336 
 Downing Terrace, 19, 58 
 Drake, C. F. Tyrwhitt, 267, 269 
 Drapers' Company, 339, 342 
 Drosier, W. H., 262 
 Due Job, Le, 107 
 Duffield, Mrs., 67 
 Dumaine, 234 
 Dumas, 244 
 Dunning, J. W., 90 
 Durnford, R., 226 
 Durnford, W., 130,226 
 
 East India Company, 1 
 
 Eastern Counties, County Councils of, 
 338 
 
 Ecclesiologist, 95 note 
 
 Eden, F., 186 
 
 Edinburgh, 1 
 
 Edward VII, King, 96, and note; pre- 
 sides at twenty-fifth anniversary 
 dinner of the A.D.C., 130 ; the 
 pi-oposed architectural history of 
 Wiudsor Castle, 171-174 ; Coro- 
 nation of, 176 ; visits Cambridge to 
 open Science Schools and Squire 
 Law Library, 182. 334 ; 208 ; his 
 regard for J., 226, 276 
 
 Edwards, H. J., 177, 184 
 
 Ehrle, Father, 166, and note, 168, 202 
 
 Electra, 250 
 
 Elliot, W., 239 
 
 Ellis, Rev. J. H., 204, and note 
 
 Ely Cathedral, 95 
 
 Endoivments of the University of Cain- 
 bridge, 182, 311 
 
 Engineering, Department of, 299, 304, 
 306, 312 ; first Tripos in, held 1894, 
 318 ; Hopkinson Memorial Wing 
 opened 1900, 319 ; 320. .S'ce also 
 Mechanism, Department of. 
 
 Enkhuizen, 153 
 
 Esher, Lord, 204 
 
 Este, Isabella d', 150 
 
 Ethnology, Museum of, 340, 341 ; 
 Reader in, 337 
 
 Eton, 6, 52 ; J. at, 54-75 ; War 
 Memorial Buildings at, 227 
 
 Eumcnidcs, 138, 225 
 
 Ewbauk, L., 267 
 
 Ewing, Sir J. A., 151, 317, 319 
 
 Examination Rooms, 300, 310, 342 
 
 Eyemouth, 65
 
 Licie, 
 
 X 
 
 353 
 
 "Falcon" Inn, 20 
 
 Falconhurst, 170 
 
 Falstaff, 241 
 
 "Family," the, 47, 140 
 
 Farish, W., 10 
 
 Faroe Islands, 95 
 
 Fasciculus Joanni Willis Clark Dicatus, 
 130, 204 
 
 Faust, 105 
 
 Favart, Mile., 284, 244 
 
 Fawcett, Prof. H., 90 
 
 Fawcett, W. M., 261, 275, 280, 307, 
 310, 314-316, 336, 342 
 
 Fayrer, Sir J., 280 
 
 Febvre, 234 
 
 Fechter 249 
 
 Feilden,' Col. H. W., 105, 283, 289 
 
 Felix, Dinah, 234 
 
 Fdlix, Rachel, see Rachel. 
 
 Fcstus, 30 
 
 Feuillet, O., 241 
 
 Figaro, the, 128 
 
 Financial Board, 151 
 
 Fisher, Dr., 59, 63 
 
 Fitzroy, Capt., 259 
 
 Fitzwilliam, Lord, 97 
 
 Fitzwilliam Museum, 19, 82, 139 
 
 Fletcher, H., 205 
 
 Florence, 3, 106, 107, 201 
 
 Flower, Sir Wm., 104, 277 
 
 Forestry, Department of, 340 
 
 Fossa Nuova, 168 
 
 Foster, Sir M., 115; his help to F. 
 Balfour, 136, 1.37; 138; his death, 
 191; lectures, 210; 223, 281; re- 
 quest for proper provision for teach- 
 iug Comparative Anatomy and 
 Physiology, 306; 311, 315 
 
 Fox, Mrs. Maxwell, 127, 131 
 
 France, J.'s visits to, 1842, 15 ; 1857, 
 90; 1858-9, 94; 1882. 135; 1S94, 
 153-158; 1896, 161 
 
 France, Anatole, 154, 187, 188, 
 198 
 
 France, Francis, 91 
 
 Francesca, Piero della, 202 
 
 Francis, Mrs. C, 67 
 
 Franciscans, 23 
 
 Franklin, M., 169 
 
 Frati, Signor, 186 
 
 Free School Lane, " Manor House " 
 in, 298; "Great House" in, 299, 
 300, 305 ; 309, 313 
 
 Frere, Mr., of Cottenham, 67 
 
 Frere, Wm., Master of Downiner, 
 18 
 
 Funchal, 148 
 
 Gadow, H., elected Strickland Cura- 
 tor, 281 ; his work on the Bird 
 Collection, 283, 284 ; 286 ; records 
 death of Mrs. Strickland, 288 ; 292 
 
 Galton, Francis, 95 
 
 Gaol, at Cambridge, 82 
 
 Garraud, 234 
 
 Gas Company, Cambridge, 14 note 
 
 Gaskell, C. G. Milnes, 169 
 
 Gaskell, Lady C. Milnes, 170, and 
 note 
 
 Gedge, Joseph, 267 
 
 Geneva, Lake of, 153, 155 
 
 Geoffrin, Mme., 195 
 
 Geology, Museum of, Dr. Woodward's 
 collection housed in the present 
 Novel Room, 1735, 320 ; room re- 
 quired, 1818, ib.; Syndicates (1-10) 
 on the proposed Woodwardian 
 Museum, 1821-37, 320-323 ; build- 
 ing commenced 1837,323 ; finished 
 1842, ih. ; statement of Professor 
 Sedgwick, 1871, 324-326; his 
 death, 1873, 326 ; proposal to build 
 Sedgwick Museum as memorial to 
 him, 1874, 327 ; Syndicates (11-22) 
 on it, 1874-99, 327-332; building 
 completed 1904, 332 
 
 George III, King, 7, and note, 8-10 
 
 George IV, King, 8 
 
 George V, King, 208 
 
 Gergovie, 187 
 
 Germany, J. visits, 87-89, 99 
 
 Gervais, Prof., 105 
 
 Giffard, Sir Geo., 118 
 
 Gilbey, Sir W., 338 
 
 Giotto, 94 
 
 Girls' Friendly Society, 13, 200 
 
 Gladstone, Robert, 69, and note 
 
 Gladstone, Rt. Hon. W. E., 213 
 
 Gloucester, Duke of, 90, 91 
 
 Gluck's Orpheus, 213 
 
 Godman, F. Du Cane, 105, 289 
 
 Godolphin, Lord, 58, 64 
 
 Gogmagogs, the, 28 
 
 Goldsmith, O., 241 
 
 Goldsmiths' Company, 332, 340 
 
 Goldsmiths' Reader in Metallurgy, 
 340 
 
 Golgotha, 100 
 
 Gonville and Caius College, 81, 262, 
 313 
 
 Goodacre, F. B., 264 
 
 Gordon, Sir Arthur, see Stanmore, 
 Lord 
 
 Gordon, Cosmo, 198, 199 
 
 Got, Ed., 234, 250, 251
 
 354 
 
 Gozzoli, Benozzo, 203 
 
 Grant, C. E., 149 
 
 Grantchester, 28 
 
 Gravel Pit Close, 19 
 
 Gray, Chas., Rector of West Retford, 
 
 84, 101, 102 
 Gray, Capt., of Peterhead, 279 
 " Great House," the, in Free School 
 
 Lane, 299, 300, 305 
 Greek Plays, 138 
 
 Greenwood, Robert Hodgson, 37, 38 
 Griffiths, J., 335 
 Grove Lodge, 19 
 Giinther, Dr., 104, 125, 265, 266 
 Guerne, Baron de, 164 
 Guildford, 153 
 Guildhall, at Cambridge, 81 
 Guillemard, F. H. H., 148 note, 283, 
 
 284, 287 
 Guiseley, Leeds, 4, 5, 13, 14, 65 
 Guizot, F. P. G., 43 
 Gurney, Mr., 286 
 Guyot, Yves, 182 
 Gwatkin, H. M., 285 
 
 Haast, Sir J. von, 285 
 
 Haddon, A. C, 277, 278 
 
 Hague, The, 151, 224 
 
 Halifax, Lord, 114, 209 
 
 Hallam, Arthur, 45 
 
 Haly, A., 281 
 
 Hamilton, J. F., 274 
 
 Hammond, Lempriere, 86 
 
 Handel Festival, 213 
 
 Harcourt, Vernon, 115 
 
 Haidwicke, Lord, 64 
 
 Hare, J. C, 100 
 
 Harker, A., 330 
 
 Haimer, S. F., 149, 284, 285, 291 
 
 ' Harmonies in Bordeaux," 212 
 
 H;iirogate, 151 
 
 Harrow, 145 
 
 Harwood, Sir Busick, 2, 3, 263, 265 
 
 Hauxton Gate, 58 
 
 Haviland, J., 2, 3, 14 note 
 
 Hawks' Club, 257 
 
 Hawtrey, Dr., 54, 71, 74 
 
 Headly, Messrs., 310 
 
 Heape, W., 282, 283, 285 
 
 Heath, Franci , 1 
 
 Heberden, \V., 10 
 
 Henry Ill's Great Hall, 174 
 
 Henry IV, 241 
 
 Henslow, J, S., 43, 60 note, 137, 258, 
 
 259 
 Hepburn, Jamis, 270, 278 
 Herbarium, see Botany School 
 
 Index 
 
 Hereford, 124, 125, 162, 163 
 
 Hewitson, Mr., 287 
 
 Hexter, Mr., 76 
 
 Hills Road, 28 
 
 Hills, T. Hyde, 256 
 
 Hobhouse, Sir John Cam, 3 
 
 Hobson, Thomas, 20; Conduit of, 81 
 
 Hoeven, Jan van der, 6 
 
 Hofburg Theater, 105 
 
 Holland, 151, 152 
 
 Holland, Lady, 194, 197 
 
 Holden, H. A... goes abroad with J., 
 76-80 
 
 Holmes, R., 172 
 
 Hope, Beresford, 115 
 
 Hope, H. St. J., 173-175 
 
 Hopkinson, Mrs. Evelyn, 319 
 
 Hopkinson, John, 319 
 
 Hoppett, 102 
 
 Horace, 238 note 
 
 Hort, F. J. A. , 5 
 
 Horticultural Show, at Cambridge, 
 67 ; at London, 71 
 
 Horton-Smith, R., 90 
 
 Hospital of St. Anthony and St. 
 Eligius, 19 
 
 Hotel des Invalides, 77 
 
 Hotham, H. J., 116 
 
 Houghton, Lord, 45, 138 
 
 How Will it And? 241 
 
 Hubbard, G., 342 
 
 Hudson, the " Railway King," 43 
 
 Hiigel, Baron A. von," 139, 194, 195, 
 341 
 
 Huguenots, The, 88 
 
 Hughes, T. McK., 144, 326, 327, 329, 
 332, 338 
 
 Hullah, J., 52 
 
 Humfrey, Charles, 12 
 
 Humphry, Sir Geo. Murray, 5, 99; 
 succeeds Prof. Clark as Prof, of 
 Anatomy, 1866, 100 ; his speech on 
 F. Balfour, quoted, 137; 265; pre- 
 sents a skeleton of a sea otter to 
 the Mus. of Znol., 269 ; 275, 281, 315 
 
 Humphry, Lady, 337 
 
 Humphry Museum, see Medical School 
 
 Huxley, T. H., 137, 270 note 
 
 Ibsen, H., 106 
 
 Iceland, 95 
 
 Impington, Experimental Farm at, 339 
 
 luclosure Acts, 28 
 
 Innes, H. McL., 203 
 
 Ion, 138, 225 
 
 lonica, by W. Cory, 55, and note 
 
 Iphigenia in Tauris, 225
 
 Index 
 
 355 
 
 Irish Plays, 247 
 Irving, Sir H., 238, 252 
 Italy, 94, 96, 166 
 
 Jackson, Henry, 103; his travels 
 abroad with J., 105-109; 145, 223 
 
 Jackson, Richard, 10, 300 
 
 Jackson, Sir T. G., 330, 331, 335, 341, 
 342 
 
 Jacksouian Professor, rooms used by, 
 297, 300, 301, 303, 304, 308, 313 
 
 Jebb, Sir R., 223 
 
 Jenkinson, F. J. H., 276 
 
 Jenyns, L. , Museum of Zoology de- 
 scribed by, 258-261 
 
 Jessopp, A., 143 
 
 Jesus College, 38, 82 
 
 John Milton, 106 
 
 Johnson, William, see Cory, William 
 
 Jones, Lawrence, 220, 221 
 
 Jones, T. Percy, see Aytoun, W. E. 
 
 Jordan, Messrs., 28 
 
 Jouassain, Mme., 234 
 
 Jougue, 154, 155 
 
 Jura Mountains, 155 
 
 Justinian, 181 
 
 Kanthack, a. a., 335 
 
 Kean, Chas., 238 
 
 Keeping, Henry, 325 
 
 Kent, W. Savile, 267 
 
 Kew, 9 
 
 King Lear, 9 
 
 King's College, court opened in 1825, 
 
 20 ; grove of elms at, 21 ; 141 ; 
 
 lawn of, 206 
 
 — Chapel, 14, 184, 300 
 
 — Old Court, 82, 321 
 King's Ditch, 20, 300 
 King's Hall, 23, 141, 142 
 King's Parade, 25, 214 
 Kingsley, Charles, 96 
 Kitchener, Lord, 164 
 Kitling, Dr., 58 
 
 Labyrinth, the, 81 
 Lacressoniere, 234 
 Lafontaine, 234 
 Lafreri, 202 
 Lagrange, J. L., 40 
 Lake District, 98 
 Laleham, 142 
 Lane, E., 293 
 Langley, J. N., 212 
 Lankester, Sir E. Ray, 137 
 Laon, 161 
 Laroche, 234, 242 
 
 Latham, H., 332, 834 
 Laurent, G., 157, 158 
 Law School and Library Buildings 
 
 Syndicate, 331 
 Lawley, A. , 239, 240 
 Lawrence, Sir A. W., 148 
 Lawrence, Lady, 148 
 Leadbeater, Mr., 259 
 Leathes, S., 150, 151 
 Leckenby, Mr., of Scarborough, 325, 
 
 326 
 Lecture Rooms, New, 342, 343 
 L(5guat, Fr., 268 
 Lensfield Rd., 28 
 Le Puy, 135, 185 
 L'Espinasse, Julie de, 193-195 
 Lesson for Life, A, 234 
 Lesueur, 234 
 Lewis, W. J., 329 
 Liber Memorandorum Ecclesie de Berne- 
 
 welle, 187, 188, 192 
 Libraries, papers and lectures by J. 
 
 on, 153, 158, 163 
 Library Association, 184 
 Lightfoot, J. B., 86 
 Lincoln Cathedral, 153 
 Lion Hotel, Cambridge, 29 
 Lister, J. J., 291 
 Liveing, G. D., 5, 294, 312, 313, 
 
 339 
 Liversidge, Prof., of Sydney, 283 
 Locke, J., 39, 40 
 
 Loggan's Cantabrigia Rlustrata, 184 
 London Assv-rance, 253 
 London Road, the, 19 
 Louis XIV., 42 
 Love Lane, see Coe Fen Lane 
 Lowe, R. T., 259, 264, 266 
 Lowndean Professor, rooms for, 303, 
 
 343 
 Lowther, Rt. Hon. J. W., 239, 240 
 Luard, H. R., 93 ; undertakes the re- 
 moval of the " Doctors' Gallery," 
 
 100, 126, 127 ; memorial to, 150 ; 
 
 223, 224 
 Lucasian Professor, rooms for, 303, 343 
 Lucrezia Borgia, 88, 89, 105 
 Liitken, Prof., of Copenhagen, 267 
 Lyc^e Henri Quatre, 157, 158 
 Lydekker, R., 72 note, 27 G 
 Lvnn, 22 
 Lyon, Mr., 312 
 Lyons Mail, The, 238 
 Lyttelton, Rt. Hon. Alfred, 126, 204, 
 
 219 
 Lyttelton, Hon. Edward, 219 
 Lyttelton, Lady, 162 
 
 z2
 
 356 
 
 Inde 
 
 Macalister, a., 314. 315 
 MacAndrew, Robert, 272, 285 
 Macartney, Dr., 264, 265 
 Macaulay, Lord, 206 
 Macfarlane- Grieve, W. A., 839 
 Macmillan & Co., 81, 149 
 MacmiUan's Magazine, quoted, 3, and 
 
 note 
 Madeira, 148, 149, 173 
 Madinglev, 23 
 Madingley Hall, 96 
 Magdalene Bridge, 83 
 Magdalene College, 95, 192 
 Mabmoud, Sultan, tbe Conqueror, 
 
 180, 181 
 Maine, Sir H. J. S.. 67 
 Maitland, F. W., 191,192 
 Mansel, W. L., 17 
 Marciana Library, 186, 201 
 Margaret's, Lady, Statutes, 84 
 Marie Antoinette, 77 
 Marie Stuart, 105 
 Market Hill, 80, 81 
 Marlow, 72 
 
 Marr, J. E., 260 note, 330 
 Marsh, Prof., of the U.S., 105 
 Marshall, A.M., 120, 274 
 Marshall, Wm., 342 
 Martin, F., 84 
 Martin, Henri. 169 
 Martin, T., M.A. , 299 
 Mary, Queen of England, 84 
 Mason, A. J., 162, 204 
 Mathematical Tripos, 39, 305 
 Mathematics, Professor of, rooms of 
 
 the, 297, 304 
 Mathews, Chas., 247, 253 
 Mathison, W. C, 86 
 Matrimonio Scgreto, II, 107 
 Maubant, 234. 242 
 Maudslav, A. P., 139, 340, 341 
 Maxwell, J. C, 137, 305 
 Mayor, J. E. B., 145 
 Mechanism, Department of, 308, 309, 
 310, 317, 318. See also Engineering, 
 Department of 
 Meckel, Prof., of Halle, 263 
 Medical School, 82, 300, 306, 314,327, 
 333, 335 ; syndicate appointed to 
 consider erection of new build- 
 ings, 1899, 336 ; recommend build- 
 the Humphry Museum, ib. ; opened 
 by King Edward VII 1904, 337 
 Mellish, Agnes, 132 
 Mellish, Edward, 114 
 Melli.sh, Sir George, 118 
 Melbourne, Lord, 4 
 
 X 
 
 Metallurgical laboratory, 340 ; Gold- 
 smiths' Reader in Metallurgy en- 
 dowed 1908, ib. 
 
 " Michael's Mount," 192 
 
 Middleton, T. H., 339 
 
 Midsummer Common, 83 
 
 Milan, 201 
 
 Milbanke, Miss, 2 
 
 Mill Lane, 20, 336, 342 
 
 Miller, W. H., 206 
 
 Milman, Sir Archibald, 169 
 
 Milman, Lilian. See Clark, Lilian 
 (Mrs. Edward) 
 
 Milne- Edwards, Professor, 105, 129, 
 164 
 
 Milner-Gibson, G. G., 132 
 
 Milnes, R., 239 
 
 Milsom, J. B., 263 
 
 Milton, Lord, 95-97 
 
 Milton Road, 337 
 
 Mineralogy, Department of. Pro- 
 fessorship established in 1808, 302 ; 
 rooms for, 303, 304 ; roof of the 
 Mineralogical Museum raised, 1884, 
 312; 319, 323,333 
 
 Mitchell, Arnold, 339 
 
 Moli^re, 234, 245 
 
 Monaco, 108 
 
 Mont Blanc, 77, 155 
 
 Mont Dore, 184 
 
 Moore, Thomas, 3 
 
 Moral Sciences Tripos, 41 
 
 More, Hannah, S 
 
 Morgan, J. P. , 18 
 
 Morgan, John, of London, 258 
 
 Morgann, Maurice, 241 note 
 
 Moro, Antonio, 84 
 
 Morphology, Department of, 297, 319, 
 343 
 
 Morris, Professor, 325 
 
 Mortlock Site, the, 299, 300, 305, 310, 
 311,842 
 
 Moulins, 198, 199 
 
 Mounet, Paul, 246, 248 
 
 Mounet-Sully, J., 234, 237 ; as Gerald 
 in La Fille de Roland, 242 ; Ruy 
 Bias, 242, 243 ; 246 ; Othello, 248 ; 
 (Edipus, 249 ; Francois ler in Le 
 Roi s' Amuse, 250 
 
 Murie, James, 267 
 
 Museum and Lecture Rooms Syndi- 
 cate, instituted in 1866, 294 ; its 
 first members, ib., 295, 296 ; J. 
 becomes Secretary to, 1880, 297 ; 
 is formally appointed by the Senate, 
 1883, ib. ; resigns the Secretary- 
 ship, 1891, 316; their appreciation
 
 Index 
 
 357 
 
 of his services, 316, 317 ; Syndicate 
 
 abolished, 1912, 317 
 Museums of Science, history of, 298- 
 
 343. See also Museums of the several 
 
 Departments 
 Musset, A. de, 244, 247, 258 
 Myers, C. S., 342 
 Mytton, Captain D. H., 69, and note 
 
 Naples, Bay of, 282 
 
 Napoleon I, Emperor, 29, 45, 193 
 
 Napoleon III, Emperor, 110, 189 
 
 Natural Sciences Tripos, 5, 41, 303 
 
 Neville, Archdeacon, 144 
 
 New Theatre, Cambridge, 256 
 
 Ne wall- Martin, 307 
 
 Newcastle, Thomas Holies, Duke of, 
 41 
 
 Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 1, 2 
 
 Newnham, 310, 341 
 
 Newton, Alfred, appointed Professor 
 of Zoology, 5, 100 ; letter on J.'s 
 engagement to Miss Buchanan, 
 114-116; two characteristic letters 
 of, 118-120 ; moves resolution on 
 memorial to F. Balfour, 137, 138; 
 159 ; his death, 192 ; 206, 266 ; urges 
 appointment of a Curator in Zoo- 
 logy, 272 ; nominates T. W. Bridge, 
 273 ; his rooms in Fawcstt's Build- 
 ing, 275; 281,282; gives collection 
 of birds to Museum, 286 ; 287, 292, 
 307 
 
 Newton, C. M., 150, 219, 239 
 
 Newton, Sir Edward, 267, 268 
 
 Newton, H. A., 165, 166, 241 
 
 Newton, Sir Isaac, 39, 40 
 
 Newton Library, 269, 343 
 
 Nice, 56 
 
 Nice Firm, A, 239 
 
 Nobel Prize, 305 
 
 Norman Library, 269, 343 
 
 Normandy, 104 
 
 " Norton Garth," 191 
 
 Norway, 90 
 
 Norwich, 144 
 
 Notorious Mrs. Ehhsmith, The, 254 
 
 Notre Dame, 87, 88 
 
 Noyon, 161 
 
 Nurnberg, 189 
 
 Ober-Ammergau Passion Play, 129, 
 
 220 
 Observatory, Cambridge, 27 
 O'Connor, John, 132, 233, 234 
 Octagon, the, second home of Human 
 
 Anatomy, 297, 302, 314, 315, 329; 
 
 afterwards used for the teaching of 
 Surgery and Obstetrics, &c. , 335 
 
 (Edipe Roi, 246, 249 
 
 (Edipus Tyrannus, 138, 249 
 
 Okes, R., 21, 63 note 
 
 Okes, Mrs., 63, 69 
 
 On ne badine pas avec V Amour, 244, 
 245 
 
 Opera Comique, 232 
 
 Optical Lecture Room, 343 
 
 Orcival, 184 
 
 Orvieto, 167 
 
 Osborn, H. F., 277 
 
 Ospedale di Santo Spirito, 167 
 
 Othello, 107, 248, 249 
 
 Owen, Sir Richard, 158, 263 
 
 Oxford Historical Society, 139 
 
 Paget, Sir G. E., 60 note, 294, 335 
 
 Pall Mall Gazette, 133 
 
 Palmer, E. H., 138, 269 
 
 Paris, J. at, 1852, 76, 77 ; 1853, 87 
 1867, 104; 1868, 108-110; 1873 
 116 ; 1879, 127-129 ; 1893, 150 
 1894, 151, 152 ; 1895, 157, 158 
 1897, 162; 1901, 169; 1902, 177 
 1906, 185 ; 1907, 193 ; 1909, 201 
 
 Paris Exhibition, 127, 128 
 
 Paris Mail, J.'s unpleasant experience 
 in the, 133-134 
 
 Parker, E. H., 298 
 
 Parker's Piece, 58, 62, 82 
 
 Parma, 106 
 
 Parry, John, 67 
 
 Parson's Court, 310 
 
 Parthenon, the, 181 
 
 Pathology, Dept. of, 82, 297, 314, 335 ; 
 see also Medical School 
 
 Pau, 116 
 
 Peacock, George, 37, 38, 322 
 
 Peile, John, 147 
 
 Pemberton, Francis, 53 
 
 Pemberton, Col., 53 
 
 Pemberton, Mrs., 52, 53 
 
 Pembroke College, 82, 151, 310 
 
 Pembroke Street, 20, 300, 313 
 
 Pepvs, S., 20 
 
 Perez, F., 289 
 
 Perne, A., 188 
 
 Perrier, E., 105, 204 
 
 Perry, C, Bp. of Melbourne, 37 
 
 Perse Almshouses, 299, 300, 301, 310, 
 313, 328 
 
 Perse School, Old, 299, 310, 329; 
 Headmaster's House, 306 
 
 Peterhouse, 19 
 
 Petty Cury, 20
 
 358 
 
 Indi 
 
 Pevensey Whale, the, 265, 285 
 
 Phear, Sir John, 280, 28 i 
 
 Phear, S. G., 294 
 
 Philibert II, 156 
 
 Philip II, King of Spain, 84 
 
 Philosophical Society (Camb.), see 
 Cambridt^e Philosophical Society 
 
 Philpott, Mrs., 62 
 
 Physics, see Cavendish Laboratory 
 
 Physiology, Department of, 299, 306, 
 307, 308 ; room required for ex- 
 tension of Laboratory, 1889, 815 ; 
 the new rooms completed, 1891, 
 316 ; 337 ; new Laboratory in course 
 of construction, 340, 342 
 
 Pike, Wm. Bennett, 183 
 
 Pitt Press, see University Press 
 
 Piatt, F. T., 90 
 
 Plumian Professor, rooms for, 303, 
 343 
 
 Poitiers, 127 
 
 Pollock, Walter, On J.'s love of the 
 theatre, (Chapter XL), 231-256 
 
 Pontgibaud, 194, 195 
 
 Popple, Mr., 2 
 
 Powell, David, 96, 104 
 
 Powell, Henry, 96, 104, 121 note 
 
 Powell, L. M., 219 
 
 Power, John, 99, 294 
 
 Praed, W. M., 45 
 
 Prest, Mrs., 59 
 
 Preston, 163 
 
 Pribylov Islands, 276 
 
 Prince of Wales's Theatre, 246 
 
 Prior, E. S., 336 
 
 Prior, Joseph, 105, 108, 219 
 
 Probyn, Sir Dighton, 174 
 
 Procter, Joseph, 24 
 
 Proctors, 142 
 
 Prothero, G. W., 171, and note, 212 
 
 Pryme, G., 24 
 
 Pryme, Mrs., 90 
 
 Pryor, F. R., 225 
 
 Pryor, Marlborough, 209 
 
 Psycho-Physics Laboratory, 340, 341, 
 342 
 
 Pump Lane, 80 
 
 Queen Anne's Terrace, 82 
 Queens' College, 4, 163, 301 
 Queens' Lane, 302 
 
 Rachel, 250, 252 
 
 Ray, John, 60 note 
 
 Kay, Dr., of America, 8 note 
 
 Ray Club, the, 47, 60, and note, 67 
 
 ex 
 
 Rayleigh, Lord, 305, and note 
 
 Reade, Charles, 238 
 
 Rede Lecture, 152, 153 
 
 Redfern, W. B., 256 
 
 Redfern, Mr., Architect, 314 
 
 Reed, Mr., 52 
 
 Reform Bill, 24 
 
 Registry, fire at the, 1893, 151 
 
 Reichemberg. Mile., 234. 237 
 
 Reubell, Etta^ 150, 189 
 
 Reubell, J., 128, 150, 169, 251 
 
 Rbeims, 161 
 
 Rhine, the, 76, 80 
 
 Rhine Provinces, 15 
 
 Rickman and Hutchinson, Messrs., 
 
 322 
 Riot Act, 4 
 Rivers, W. H. R., 342 
 Riviera, the, 110 
 Roberts, H. A., 298 
 Roberts, T., 330 
 Robertson, T.W., 246 
 Robinson, J. A., D.D., 193 
 Robinson, Walter, 293 
 Roderick, Dr., 13 
 Roi s' Amuse, Lc, 250, 251 
 RoUeston, Prof., 104, 268 
 Roman Catholic Church, Cambridge, 
 
 13 
 Rome, 107, 166-168 
 Romilly, J., 217 
 Rose Crescent, 16 
 Rosebery, Lord, 198 
 Rothenstein, C, 150 
 Rouen, 157 
 Roxburgh, 1 
 Roy, C. S.,314 
 
 Royal College of Surgeons, 271, 277 
 Royal Society, 5 
 Royat-les-Bains, J. at, 1905, 184 ; 
 
 1906, 186-188; 1907-8, 192-198; 
 
 1909, 205, 206 
 Royer, Mile., 234 
 Ruskin, John, 30 
 Russell, Lady C, 287 
 Russell, C. H., 287 
 Jiuy Bias, 240, 242, 243 
 
 St. Andrews, 1 
 
 St. Andrew's Hall, Camb., 256 
 
 St. Andrew's Hill, 300 
 
 St. Augustine, Priory of, 82 
 
 St. Bene't's Church, 13, 299 ; parish, 
 
 82 
 St. Botolph's Church, 20, 124 
 St. Catharine's College, 20, 21, 62, 64, 
 
 301
 
 Index 
 
 359 
 
 St. Edward's Church, 81 ; parish, 82, 
 310 
 
 St. John's College, 14, 21, 83, 141; 
 chapel, 81 
 
 St. John's Lane, 81 
 
 St. John's Street, 81 
 
 St. Mark's, Venice, 186, 222 
 
 St. Mary's the Great, Church, 20, 26, 
 81, 100 
 
 St. Mary's the Less, Church, 113 
 
 St. Paul's Cathedral, 153 
 
 St. Peter's Rome, 168 
 
 St. Tibbs' Row, 336 
 
 Salvin, A., 82, 261, 297, 304, 307, 333, 
 337 342 
 
 Salvin, Osbert, 104, 268, 273, 275, 
 280, 281 
 
 Salvini, 106, 248, 249 
 
 Salvucci family, 203 
 
 Sand, George, 252 
 
 Sandars Lectures, 153 
 
 Santa Sophia, 179, 180, 181 
 
 Sarcey, 127 
 
 Saturday Review, 127 
 
 Saxe-Meiningen Company, 225 
 
 Sayle, C. E., 162, 188, 189, 191 
 
 Scarborough, 158 
 
 Schlumberger, M., 164 
 
 Schonbrunn, 117 
 
 School fm' Scandal. 131 
 
 Schroder van der Kolk, Prof., 265 
 
 Scientific Instrument Co., Camb., 
 336 
 
 Sclater, P. L., 105, 268 
 
 Scotland, 65 
 
 Scott, W. B., 277 
 
 Scroope House, 12 ; built in 1837, 14 ; 
 Sunday evenings at, 112 ; J. and 
 family move to, 1885, 140; en- 
 larged, 190 
 
 Sedbergh, 144 
 
 Sedgwick, Adam, Prof, of Geology, 
 2, 6, 22, 43, 57, 64; his funeral 
 described, 115, 116; his Life pub- 
 lished, 144, 145 ; 302 ; statement 
 to the Univ. on the Geological 
 Museum and the Leckenby Col- 
 lection, 324-6 ; memorial to, 326, 
 327 
 
 Sedgwick, Adam, Prof, of Zoology, 
 his sorrow on the death of F. 
 Balfour, 136, 137 ; carries on Bal- 
 four's work, 282 ; 312 ; 329 
 
 Sedgwick, Miss, 144 
 
 Sedgwick Museum, see Geology, 
 
 Museum of 
 Seeley, Sir J. R., 90 
 
 Segur, Marquis de, 193, 195 
 
 Segur, Vicomte de, 193 
 
 Selby,P. J., 268 
 
 Senate House, 3, 22, 41, 64 
 
 Senate House Hill, 20, 21 
 
 Senlis, 161 
 
 Sevigne, Mme. de, 155, 189 
 
 Seward, A. C, 204 
 
 Seymour Court, 73 
 
 Shakespeare, William, 32, 87 
 
 Sharp, David, 288, 292 
 
 Sharp, R. B., 268 
 
 Shaw, W. N., 151 
 
 Shelford, 192 
 
 Shelford Common, 58 
 
 Sheridan, R. B., 9, 34, 241 
 
 Shirehouse, at Cambridge, 82 
 
 Shore, Teignmouth, 99 
 
 Sidgwick, Henry, 315, 316 
 
 Sidmouth, 191 
 
 Sidney Sussex College, 21, 313 
 
 Siena, 167,203 
 
 Silvain, Mme., 250 
 
 Simeonites, 81 
 
 Simpson, Palgrave, 232 
 
 Sixtus IV., 167 
 
 Slaughter House Lane, 82 
 
 Smith, Alexander, 30 
 
 Smith, Professor Henry, 187 
 
 Smith, Sir Henry Babington, 177 
 
 Smith, W. Robertson, 223 
 
 Snow (later Kynastou), 90 
 
 " Society for the Prevention of Cruelty 
 
 to Undergraduates," 36 
 Somerset, Charles Seymour, Duke of, 
 
 301 
 Somerville, W., 339 
 Sophora chinensis, 82 
 Sorbonne, library at the, 152 
 Sothern, 233 
 " Spital End," 19 
 Squire, Rebecca F., 334 
 Squire Law Library, 182, 333, 334, 
 
 335 
 Stael, Mme. de, 196, 197 
 Stamboul, 180 
 Stanford, Sir C. V., 213 
 Stanley, A. P., 115, 173 
 Stanley, Mgr., 167 
 Stanmore, Lord, 139, and note. 
 Statutes of the University, 84 
 Steenstrup, 56 
 Steinmann. Professor, 168 
 Steller's " Sea-Cow," 139, 286 
 Stephen, J. K., 225 
 Stephen, Sir James, 42 
 Stephens, the entomologist, 259
 
 360 
 
 Index 
 
 Stevenson, J. J., 313 
 Stewart Collections of skulls, 288 
 Stokes, Sir G. G., 165, 294 
 Strickland, Mrs. C. D. M., 266, 268, 
 
 273, 285, 288, 293 
 Strickland, Frances, 273 
 Strickland, H. E., 266 
 Strickland Collection, 273, 280, 288 
 Strickland Curatorship, 273 
 Strickland Library, 269, 274 
 Stuart, James, 85, and note, 308, 309, 
 
 312, 318, 319 
 Stubbings, William, 115, 276, 277, 
 
 283 293 
 Studd, P.,150 
 Sutherland, Duchess of, 64 
 Sutton, Ven. Robert, 71, and note, 88 
 Swainson, William, 264 
 Swainson Collection, 266, 268 
 Switzerland, 77-80, 96 
 Sykes, Sir Mark M., 3 
 
 Tabor, Montagu, 108 
 
 Taillade, 251 
 
 Tainter's Yard, 300 
 
 Talbot, Eustace, 170, 183, 192 
 
 Talbot, J. G., 170 
 
 Talbot, the actor. 234 
 
 Talleyrand, 194, 197 
 
 Talma, the actor, 197 
 
 Tatham, G. B., 130, 201, 203 
 
 Taylor, Sedley, 101, and note 
 
 Taylor, Tom, 86, 234 
 
 Tedaldi, L., 202 
 
 Tennis Court Road, 328 
 
 Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, 45, 222 
 
 Thackeray, W. M., 24, 32, 45, 232 
 
 Thames, the, 226 
 
 Theatre Coffee-House, 81 
 
 Theatre Franfais, see Comedie Fran- 
 9aise 
 
 Theodosius, Emperor, 181 
 
 Thirlwall, Connop, 35, 138 
 
 Thiron, 234 
 
 Thompson, W. H., 32, 37, 38, 89 
 
 "Three Cups" Inn, 310 
 
 Threlfall, R., 282 
 
 Tissot, 109 
 
 Tom Thumb, General, 15, 16 
 
 Torquato Tasno, 105 
 
 Transit of Venus Expedition, 275 
 
 Tresse, Mme. , 128 
 
 Trinity College, 16, 21 ; J. entered at, 
 1852, 83 ; Queen Mary's portrait 
 presented to, by J., 84 ; J. elected 
 a scholar of, 89 ; receives a Fellow- 
 ship, 91 ; agitation to alter dinner 
 
 hour at, 98 ; bust of Prof. Clark 
 presented to, 138 ; 141, 165 
 Trinity College : Chapel, 21 
 
 — Combination Room, 101 note, 
 102 
 
 — Conclusion Book, 36 
 
 — Great Gate, 124 
 
 — Hall, 22, 29, 30, 101, 102 
 
 — " Iniquity Corner," 38 
 
 — Library, 22, 102 
 
 — Lodge, 64 
 
 — Muniment Room, 101 
 Trinity Hall, 81, 82 
 Trinity Street, 16, 21 
 Trotter, Coutts, 139, 279, 305 
 Trumpington, 59 
 Trumpington Gate, 20 
 Trumpington Hall, 53 
 Trumpington Road, 28 
 Trumpington Street, 13, 18 
 Twiss, Mr., 58 
 
 Tyrol, the, 220 
 
 Umbria, 107 
 
 Union Society, 31 
 
 University Arms Hotel, 58 
 
 University Library, 81, 82; Syn- 
 dicate propose roofing in of Eastern 
 Court, 175 ; appeal for funds for, 
 183, 184 ; allowed to deposit dupli- 
 cates in New Museums, 269 ; Geo- 
 logy and Mineralogy housed in the 
 Novel Room of, 302, 320; Lord 
 Rayleigh gives part of the Nobel 
 Prize to, 305 note; Cockerell's Build- 
 ing completed, 323, 324; 331, 332, 
 333 
 
 University Press, 20, 173, 301 
 
 Vachell, C, 259, 266 
 
 Vatican, the, 167 
 
 Vaughan, Sir Chas., 114 
 
 Veit family, 220 
 
 Venice, 105, 106, 185, 186, 201, 221, 
 
 222 
 Ventnor, 208 
 Vercingetorix, 187 
 Verona, 222 
 
 Vesuvius, Mount, 94, 95 
 Vezelay, 153, 156 
 Vichy, 189 
 Victoria, Queen, 51 ; visits Cambridge, 
 
 62-64 ; Eton, 70, 71 ; 149, 172, 173, 
 
 174 
 Victoria, Princess, 182, 332 
 Vidal, F., 57 
 Vienna, 105, 116, 117
 
 Index 
 
 361 
 
 Vines, S. H., 312 
 
 Viollet-le-Duc, 156 
 
 Virgil, 107 
 
 Vivian, Lt.-Col. Sir A. P., 69, and 
 
 note 
 Vokes, Rosina, 125 
 Voltaire, 196, 252 
 Volunteer Movement of 1859, 25 
 
 Wagner's Ring, 188, 213, 225 
 
 Waldstein, Sir C, 225 
 
 Wales, 98 
 
 Walker, Richard, 297 ; purchases 
 Manor House in Free School Lane 
 as site for Botanic Garden, 1760, 
 298 ; " Great House " used as 
 lecture room for botany, 299 ; dis- 
 posal of his garden, 1853, 303, 333 ; 
 305, 337 
 
 Wallop, Hon. J., 130 
 
 Walters, Mr., 14 
 
 Wanstead House, 13, 14 
 
 Warburton, C, 288 
 
 Ward, J. M., 69, and note 
 
 Warren, R., 9 
 
 Warwick Street, 80 
 
 Washington, National Museum of, 
 283, 286, 287 
 
 Was'ps, 138 
 
 Water Company, Camb., 23, 81 
 
 Waterhouse, A., 82 
 
 Watson, C. K., 2, 3 note, 158, and 
 note 
 
 Watson, R., 39 
 
 Webb, W., 323 
 
 Weldon, W. F. R., 282 
 
 Welldon, J. E. C, 219 
 
 Wells, 153 
 
 Welton, Yorks, 2 
 
 Wenlock Abbey, 169, 170 
 
 Wentworth, 95 
 
 Westminster Abbey, 71, 153. 176, 193 
 
 Whewell, Wm., 18, 22, 26, 27 ; nick- 
 named "Whistle," 37, 38 ; 41 ; and 
 Professors' Lectures, 42, 43 ; helps 
 to extinguish fire at Trin. Hall, 81, 
 82 ; and Trinity Fellowships, 91 ; 
 137, 138, 321, 322 
 
 Whitgift Almshouses, 175 
 
 Whittlesea Mere, 19 
 
 Whittlesea Yeomanry, 64 
 
 Wilderness, the, 83 
 
 Williams, Mrs., 59 
 
 Williamson, Prof., 137 
 
 Willis, Francis (1718-1807), 7-10 
 
 Willis, John, Vicar of Lincoln 
 Cathedral, 7 
 
 Willis, John (son of Fr. Willis), 8, 10 
 Willis, Mary (daughter of R. D. 
 
 Willis), see Clark, Mary (J.'s 
 
 mother) 
 Willis, Robert (1800-1875), his life 
 
 and work, 10, 11, 12 ; his death, 
 
 124; 271,304 
 Willis, Robert Darling (1760-1831), 10 
 Wilmot, J. P., 287 
 Windsor Castle, 171-174 
 Wilson, Sir H. F., 146; his remini- 
 scences of J., 201-203 ; 208, 225 
 Wise, Charley, 57 
 Woking, 186 
 
 Women's Degrees, 159-161 
 Wonfer, 44 
 Wood, Mrs. John, 252 
 "Wooden Spoon," 204 
 Woodham, H. A., 206 
 Woodhead, G. Sims, 335 
 Woodhouse, R., 2, 3 
 Woodward, John, 320, 324 
 Woodward, S. P., 267, 278 
 Woodwardian Museum, see Geology, 
 
 Museum of 
 Wordsworth, Wm., 64 note 
 Woring, Mr., 52 
 Working Men's College, 163 
 Worms, the actor, 234 
 Wraxall's PosiAMmowsJ/cr/zoirs, quoted, 
 
 8, and note 
 "Wrestlers" Inn, 21 
 Wycliffe, J., 175 
 Wymeswold, Leics., 4 
 Wynne, Mrs., 148 
 
 Xenophon, 80 
 
 Yaerell, Mr., 259 
 Yorkshire, 144 
 Yriarte, Charles, 150 
 
 Zoology, International Congress of, 
 
 164 
 Zoology and Comparative Anatomy, 
 Museum of. (<Sce also Anatomy, 
 Comparative, Museum of) 
 
 Curatorship of Zoology established, 
 1877, 275 ; J. F. BuUar first 
 Curator, ib. 
 
 collection of Indian mammals pre- 
 sented by R. Lydekker, 276 
 — sealskins presented by the 
 Alaska Commercial Co., ih. 
 
 Mr. Bullar resigns the office of 
 Curator, 1878, 276 ; succeeded 
 by F. J. H. Jenkinson, ih.
 
 362 
 
 Index 
 
 Zoology and Comp. Anat. (contd.) 
 
 alteration to building completed, 
 1879, 276, 308 
 
 skeleton of a red deer presented by 
 W. Stubbings, 277 
 
 A. C. Haddon appointed Curator, ih. 
 
 skeleton of a crocodile presented 
 by Royal Coll. of Surgeons, ih. 
 
 Bison bcmasus presented by Emp. 
 of Russia, ib. 
 
 A. C. Haddon resigns the Curator- 
 ship, 1880, 278 ; succeeded by 
 Rev. A. H. Cooke, ib. 
 
 Philosophical Society's library re- 
 moved to, 1881, ib. 
 
 fire in the spirit room, 279 
 
 skeleton of seals and Polar bear 
 presented by Capt. Gray of Peter- 
 head, ib. 
 
 skeletons of Indian elephants pre- 
 sented by Sir J. Phear and Sir 
 J. Fayrer, 280 
 
 catalogue of the Strickland Col- 
 lection finished, ib. 
 
 Mr. Balfour appointed Prof, of 
 Animal Morphology, 1882, ib. 
 
 laboratorv for Animal Morphology 
 built, 311 
 
 Mr. Salvin resigns the Strickland 
 Curatorship, 1883, 281 ; suc- 
 ceeded by Dr. H. Gadow, ib. 
 
 Balfour Library presented, 282 
 
 Brady Collection of Foraminifera 
 presented, 1883, ib. 
 
 Dohrn Collection of Invertebrata 
 purchased, 282, 283 
 
 specimen of an African elephant 
 presented by W. Heape, 1884, 
 283 
 
 collection of birds from Natal pre- 
 sented by Major Feilden, ib. 
 
 Birds of Paradise presented by Dr. 
 Guillemard, 1885, 284 
 
 catalogue of the exhibited portion 
 of the Invertebrata begun, 1886, 
 ib. 
 
 Mr. Brady arranges his collection 
 of Foraminifera, 1886-7, ib. 
 
 Zoology and Comp. Anat. {contd. ) 
 collection of amphibia and reptiles 
 
 from Portugal presented by Dr. 
 
 Gadov?, 284, 285 
 series of bones of the Moa (Binornis) 
 
 presented by Sir J. von Haast, 
 
 285 
 Curator reports on the MacAndrew 
 
 Collection, ib. 
 collection of birds belonging to Sir 
 
 W. Jardine acquired, 285, 286 
 specimens of birds presented by 
 
 Prof. Newton, 286 
 Steller's " Sea-Cow" (Rhytina gigas) 
 
 received from the U.S. Nat. 
 
 Mus. at Washington, 1887, 286, 
 
 287 
 collection of British birds' eggs 
 
 presented by Lady C. Russell, 
 
 1888, 287 
 
 series of British spiders presented 
 
 by Mr. Warburton, 288 
 Mr. Cooke resigns the Curatorship 
 
 of the MacAndrew Collection, 
 
 1889, ib.; succeeded by Dr. D. 
 Sharp, ib. 
 
 special room set apart for an Ento- 
 mological Dept., ib. 
 
 Stewart Collections of skulls and 
 horns exhibited, ib. 
 
 skeleton of the Jamaica seal 
 (Monachus trop.'alis) presented 
 by Dr. F. Du Cane Godman, 
 289 
 
 Strickland Curator's report on the 
 value of the osteological col- 
 lection, ib, 
 
 invertebrate collection increased by 
 the remainder of Mr. Brady's col- 
 lections, 1890, ib. 
 
 collection of birds from Barbados 
 presented by Col. Feilden, 289, 
 290 
 
 J. resigns the Superintendentsbip, 
 1891, 290, 291; succeeded by 
 Dr. S. F. Harmcr, 291 ; his ap- 
 ])reciation of J.'s work, ib. 
 Zutphen, library at, 152, 153, 224 
 
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