Chapter XIII (2)

Thou hearest, Lord, beneath the felon's garb
The lonely throbbing of no felon's heart,
The cry of agony--the prayer of love
By agony unconquered--love, heaven-born,
That fills with holy light the joyless cell,
As with the daybreak of his prayer fulfilled,
The glorious dawn of brotherhood for man,
And freedom to the sorrowing land that bore him,
For whose dear sake he smiles upon his chains.
Thou gatherest, Lord, his bitter nightly tears
For home, for face beloved and trusted hand,
For the green earth, the freshly blowing breeze,
The heaven of Liberty, all, all shut out.

His vanished dreams, his withered hopes Thou knowest,
The baffled yearnings of his heart to snatch
From paths unhallowed childhood's tottering feet,
And lay a rosy smile on little lips
With homeless hunger pale, to curses trained,
Whereon no kiss hath left a memory sweet.

His chainless spirit, bruised by prison bars,
Wounded by touch of fellow-men in whom
Thy image lost he vainly sought, Thou seest
Unsullied still, lord of its own domain,
Soar in its own blue sky of faith and hope.

Such have there been and such there yet will be,
From whom the world's hard eye is turned in scorn,
But still for each a nation's tears will fall,
A nation's heart will be his earthly haven,
And when no earthly stay he needeth more,
Will he not, Father, feel Thy love enfold him,
And hear Thy voice, "Servant of God, well done."

_Lady Russell to Lady Charlotte Portal_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _November 26, 1890_

Alas! alas! the last fortnight has indeed been one of darkness and
sorrow over the country; railway and ocean horrors breaking many
hundreds of hearts, disgrace to England in Africa, disgrace to a
trusted leader dashing down the hopes of Ireland and bringing back
disunion between the two nations. We made ourselves miserable over
last night's news of the determination of his parliamentary
followers to stand by him, and his acceptance of their re-election.
Poor old Gladstone! I am sure you must admire his letter to Mr.
Morley. To-day we are told to have a little hope that it may have
influence in the right direction, but we hardly feel any. We
heartily agree with every word you say on this most painful matter.
The one consolation is to see such an increase of opinion that a
leader must be a man of high private, as well as public, character.
How often I have deplored the absence of any such opinion!

_Lady Russell to Mr. Justin McCarthy_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _November 27, 1890_

DEAR MR. MCCARTHY,--Your most kind letter was a relief to me as
regarded the spirit in which you had taken what I wrote, but also
made us very, very sad, and nothing that we have heard or read in
newspapers since has given more than a mere ray of hope. And why
should this be? Surely the path of honour and duty is plain. It
cannot be taken without pain; but such moments as this are the test
of greatness in men and nations. Gratitude untold is due to Mr.
Parnell. Those who have been his friends will not withdraw their
friendship; but surely that very friendship ought to resolve that
the vast good he has done in the past should not be undone for the
future, to his own eternal discredit, by encouragement to him to
retain the leadership. Surely the claims of your country stand
first; and is not the impending breach between English and Irish
Home Rulers a misfortune to both countries, too terrible to be
calmly faced? Already there is a tone in the Freeman's Journal
which I could not have believed would be adopted towards men like
Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Morley, who have identified themselves heart
and soul with Ireland. Of course, they are far above being turned
for a moment from their course by any such comments, but it must be
a pain to them nevertheless. It almost seems aberration of mind in
Mr. Parnell to be deaf to Mr. Gladstone's words of true patriotism,
echoed as they are throughout England and Scotland, and I cannot
but believe in thousands of Irish hearts besides. Surely this must
have gone far to convince his friends that they would be more than
justified in convincing him that retirement for awhile is his duty,
or, if they cannot convince him, in acting upon their own
convictions, if these are such as I hope. Indignation against the
terrible revelations of his guilt has driven some English
newspapers into language deeply to be deplored; but on the whole
the feeling, as shown in speeches and in the Press, has been
healthy and just. Sir Charles Russell's words struck us as among
the very best. It is the deepest and highest love for Ireland that
makes men speak and write as they do.

Dear Mr. McCarthy, I think you can do much, and I know how firm, as
well as how gentle, it is your nature to be. Save us all, for God's
sake, from the dreaded disunion and the ruin of the cause. Do not
let England and Ireland be again looked upon as separated in their
hopes, interests, aspirations. May Mr. Dillon and Mr. O'Brien help
to the good work; but too much can hardly depend on men at a
distance, excellent and patriotic as they are.

Good-bye, dear Mr. McCarthy. May God guide and unite our two
countries on the road of justice and truth and happiness. Pray,
pray forgive me once more for writing.

Ever most sincerely yours,

F. RUSSELL

In 1891 Mr. Rollo Russell married Miss Gertrude Joachim, niece of the great violinist, Dr. Joachim, and Lady Russell found new joy in his happiness.

_Queen Victoria to Lady Russell_

_January_ 1, 1891

DEAR LADY RUSSELL,--You are indeed right in thinking that I should
always take an interest in anything that concerned you and your
family, and I rejoice to hear that your son is going to make a
marriage which gives you pleasure, and trust it may conduce to your
comfort as well as to his happiness. It is a long time since I have
had the pleasure of seeing you, dear Lady Russell, and I trust that
some day this may be possible. Past days can never be
forgotten--indeed, one loves to dwell on them, though the thought
is mingled with sadness. Pray remember me to Agatha, and believe me
always,

Yours affectionately,

V.R.I.

_Lady Russell to Mr. Rollo Russell_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _January_ 14, 1892

... Most truly do you say that, while we can shelter ourselves from
the demands that assail our physical being, no defence has been
found against the bitter blasts which batter against our mental and
spiritual structure--no _defence_, only endurance, in hope and
faith and endeavour after Marcus Aurelius's "Equanimitas," and the
knowledge that the higher man's mental and moral capacity the
greater is his capacity for suffering.... And nobody has shown more
than you do in "Psalms of the West" that sorrow is not
_all_ sorrow, but has a heavenly sacredness that gives
strength to bear its burden "in quietness and confidence" to the
end. How entirely I feel with you that this has been a glorious
century. Not all the evil and the misery and the vice and the
meanness and pettinesses which abound on every side, as we look
around, can blind me to the blessed truth that the eyes of mankind
have been opening to see and to deplore these things, and to give
their lives to the study of their causes, and the discovery and
practice of means to put an end to them. The wonderful intellectual
strides, which my long life enables me not only to be aware of, but
to remember as they have one by one been made, are in close
connection with this moral and religious development; and all these
together will, I believe, raise the education of the people
(already so far above the standard of fifty, much more of a hundred
years ago) to something of the kind to which you look
forward--"more high, more wide, more various, more poetic, more
inspiring, more full of principles and less full of facts "--a
consummation devoutly to be wished.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _June_ 22, 1892

Day of much weakness. The sense of failing increases rapidly. May
the short time that remains to me make me less unfit to meet my
God. Oh, that I could begin life again! How different it would be
from what has been. I have had everything to help me upward; joys
and sorrows, encouragement and disappointment, the love and example
of my dearest husband and children in our daily companionship and
communion, the never-failing and precious affection and help of
brothers, sisters, and friends--and yet my life seems all a failure
when I think what it might have been.

_Lady Russell to Lady Charlotte Portal_

THE GRANGE, HINDHEAD, HASLEMERE, _July_ 20, 1892

Yes, elections are hard tests of character, and there are too, too
many excellent people on both sides who are led on to say hard,
unjust, untrue things of their opponents.... But there _is_
another side to elections--a grand and noble one--which makes me
feel to my inmost soul the greatness and the blessed freedom of
this dear old country, and always brings to my mind what John used
to say with something of a boy's enthusiasm, "I _love_ a
contested election."

THE GRANGE, HINDHEAD, _October_ 6, 1892

Tennyson died about one o'clock a.m. A great and good light
extinguished.

_October 7th_

Agatha and I early to Aldworth. Went in by Hallam's wish to the
room where he lay. I dread and shrink from the sight of death, and
wish to keep the recollection of the life I have known and loved
undisturbed by its soulless image. But in this case I rejoice to
have seen on that noble face the perfect peace which of late years
was wanting--it was really "the rapture of repose." A volume of
Shakespeare which he had asked for, and the leaves of which he had
turned over yesterday, I believe to find "Cymbeline," at which
place it was open, lay on the bed. His hands were crossed on his
breast, beautiful autumn leaves lay strewn around him on the
coverlet, and white flowers at the foot of the bed.

_Lady Russell to Lady Charlotte Portal_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _November_ 2, 1892

Oh, Lotty, how is it that, standing as I am on the very brink of
the known, with the unknown about to sweep me into its depths, how
is it that there is still such intense interest in the course of
this wondrous world, in all the problems now floating about
unsolved, in all the social, moral, political work going on around
us. It is true that these things are of eternal moment, and
therefore links between earth and heaven. Yet it often seems to me
foolish to care about them very much when the solution of all
enigmas is so near at hand.

_Lady Russell to Mrs. Rollo Russell_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _March_ 17, 1893

... The chief Pembroke Lodge event since I wrote is that I went on
Monday to Windsor Castle to luncheon; after which morning meal with
the household, almost all strangers to me, I saw the Queen alone
and had a good long and most easy and pleasant conversation with
her. She was as cordial as possible, and I am _very_ glad to
have seen her again; although there was much sadness mingled with
the gladness in a meeting after a period of many, many years, which
had brought their full number of changes to me--and some to her.

_Lady Russell to Mr. Rollo Russell_

PEMBROKE LODGE, RICHMOND, SURREY, _July_ 7, 1893

I feel intensely all you say about laying aside, if it were
possible, one's own personality and seeing the silent growth of all
truth and goodness, without the disturbance of names and parties;
but the world being as it is for the present, we can only keep our
minds fixed on the good and the true, with whomsoever and with
whatsoever party we may find it, and follow it with honest
conviction. If I could, I would put an end to Party Government
to-morrow, and my great wish for M.P.'s is that each one should,
upon each subject, vote exactly according to his opinion, and no
Ministry be turned out except upon a vote of want of confidence. I
honour and love Mr. Gladstone, and while ardently sympathetic with
him on Home Rule and all other Liberal measures, I am no less
antipathetic on Church matters. Happily, however, they have become
with him matters chiefly of personal attachment to Anglicanism, and
no longer (I believe) likely to affect his legislation.
"Gladstonian" is a word he does not admit, nor do those of whom it
is used.

_July_ 9, 1893.--Well, to go on with our politics: "a new
policy" Home Rule undoubtedly is, a new departure from the
"tradition" of any English party; but _not_ a departure from
Liberal principles, only a new application of old ones, and I think
it is a pity to speak of it as being against Liberal principles,
for is there anybody of average intelligence who would not have
predicted that if it should ever be adopted by any party it would
be by the Liberals? Exactly the same thing was said about Turkey:
the Whig tradition was to support her, Liberals were forsaking
their principles by taking part with Bulgaria against her. It is
the proud distinction of Liberals to _grow_ perpetually, and
to march on with eyes open, and to discover, as they are pretty
sure to do, that they have not always in the past been true to
their principles. There is no case exactly parallel with that of
Ireland; but there are some in great measure analogous, and it is
the Liberals who have listened to the voice of other countries,
some of them our own dependencies, in their national aspirations or
their desire for Parliaments of their own, expressed by
Constitutional majorities. I admire the Unionists for standing by
their own convictions with regard to Home Rule, and always have
done so; but I cannot call it "devotion to the Union _and to_
Liberal principles," and I am not aware of there being a single
Home Ruler not a Liberal. The Unionists, especially those in
Parliament, have been, and are, in a very dangerous position, and
have yielded too readily to the temptation of a sudden transference
of party loyalty upon almost every question from Liberal to Tory
leaders. But for those, whether in or out of Parliament, who have
remained Liberals--and I know several such--I don't see why, after
Home Rule is carried, they should not be once more merged in the
great body of Liberals, and have their chances, like others, of
being chosen to serve their country in Parliament and in office....

I am reading a book by Grant Allen, "Science in Arcady." ... He
brings wit and originality into these essays on plants, lakes,
spiders, etc.

_Lady Russell to Lady Agatha Russell_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _September_ 22, 1893

... With regard to the modern attraction of ugly subjects
(_not_ when the wish to remedy gross evils makes it a duty to
study and live among them; but as common talk between young men and
young women), I feel very strongly that the contemplation of God,
and all that is God-like in the souls that He has created, is our
best safeguard against evil, and that the contemplation of the
spirit of evil, and all the hideous variety of its works, gradually
taints us and weakens our powers of resistance.

_Lady Russell to Lady Agatha Russell_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _October_ 21, 1893

... I entirely agree with you, that poetry and music "teach us of
the things that are unseen" as nothing else can do. Music
especially, which is an unseen thing, not the product of man at
all, but found from man as a gift from God's own hand. I don't know
what at some periods of my life I should have done without these
blessed sympathizers and outlets and uplifting friends.

_Lady Russell to Mrs. Drummond_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _December_ 16, 1893

Your long interesting letter is most welcome. You are very good and
brave to do so much for the good of others, while suffering
yourself. How much harder it is to _bear_ patiently, and keep
up sympathy and fellow-feeling within us in spite of illness, than
to do any amount of active work while in health. I always find my
highest examples in those who know how to "suffer and be strong,"
because it is my own greatest difficulty.

Oh, my dear child, what opinions _can_ poor I give on the
almost insoluble problems you put before me? I wish I knew of any
book or any man or woman who could tell me whether a Poor Law, even
the very best, is on the whole a blessing or a curse, and how the
"unemployed" can be chosen out for work of any useful or productive
kind without injury to others equally deserving, and what are the
just limits of State interference with personal liberty. The House
of Lords puzzles me less. I would simply declare it, by Act of the
House of Commons, injurious to the best interests of the nation and
for ever dissolved. Then it may either show its attachment to the
Constitution by giving its assent to its own annihilation, or
oblige us to break through the worn-out Constitution and declare
their assent unnecessary. It is beyond all bearing that one great
measure after another should be delayed, or mutilated, year after
year, by such a body, and I chafe and fret inwardly to a painful
degree. Oh for a long talk with you! I will not despair of going to
you, "gin I be spared" till the days are reasonably long.

_Lady Russell to Lady Agatha Russell_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _October_ 10, 1894

... Alas! for our dear Oliver Wendell Holmes! He has left the world
much the poorer by his death, but much the richer by his life and
works.... Lord Grey gone too, and with him what recollections of my
young days, before and after marriage, when he and Lady Grey and we
were very much together. We loved them both. He was a very trying
political colleague to your father and others, but a very faithful
friend. The longer I live the more firmly I am convinced that in
most cases to know people well is to like them--to forget their
faults in their merits. But no doubt it is delightful to have no
faults to forget.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _March_ 3, 1894

Touching accounts of meeting of the Cabinet--the last with dear
noble old Gladstone as Minister. Tears in the eyes of his
colleagues. He made his last speech as Minister in the House of
Commons, a grand and stirring one.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _January_ 23, 1895

Finished "Erasmus" a few days ago--a great intellect, much wit,
clear insight into the religion "falsely so-called" of monks and
clergy, but a soul not great enough to utter his convictions aloud
in the face of danger, or to perceive that conciliation beginning
by hypocrisy must end in worse strife and bitterness. He saw the
evil of the new dogmas and creeds introduced by Luther, of
_any_ new creed the rejection of which was penal, but he did
not or would not see the similar evil of the legally enforced old
creeds and dogmas.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _May_ 15, 1895

Armenian refugees here to tea--a husband and wife whose baby
_she_ had _seen_ murdered by Turkish soldiers, and a
friend who is uncertain whether his wife is alive or
murdered--these three in native dress; hers very picturesque, and
she herself beautiful. The three refugees, all of whom had been
eye-witnesses of massacres of relations, looked intensely sad. She
gave an account of some of the hardships they had suffered, but
neither they nor we could have borne details of the atrocities.
What they chiefly wished to express, and did express, was deep
gratitude for the sympathy of our country, veneration for the
memory of John as a friend of the Christian subjects of the Sultan,
and thanks to ourselves.... They kissed our hands repeatedly, and
the expression of their countenances as they looked at us, though
without words, was very touching.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _February_ 24, 1896

Visit from Mr. Voysey, earnest, interesting, and pathetic in
accounts of Whitechapel experiences. His Theism fills him with the
joy of unbounded faith in a perfect God; but his keen sense of the
evil done by the worship of Jesus as another and equal God leads
him to a painful blindness to that divine character and teaching.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _August_ 5, 1897

Sinclair [115] has been reading a great deal to me since my illness
began. Miss Austen's "Emma," which kept its high ground with me
although I had read it too often to find much novelty in the
marvellous humour and reality of the characters. Then "Scenes of
Clerical Life" ... the contrast between the minds and the
brain-work of Jane Austen and George Eliot very striking. Jane
Austen all ease and spontaneousness and simplicity, George Eliot
wonderful in strength and passion, and fond of probing the depths
of human anguish, but often ponderous in long-drawn philosophy and
metaphysics, and with a tediously cynical and flippant tone
underlying her portraits of human beings--and a wearisome lingering
over uninteresting details. Her defects are, I think, far more
prominent in this than in her best later books.

[115] "While in Norfolk Street (in 1882) engaged Sinclair, my good and faithful Sinclair, as maid and housekeeper" (_Recollections_). She remained with Lady Russell till her death, and served her with devotion to the end.

In the summer of 1897 she had a severe illness, from which, as the following letter shows, she partially recovered.

_Mrs. Warburton to Lady Agatha Russell_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _October_ 11, 1897

You can't imagine, or rather you can, what a happiness it is to be
able to record a perfect drive round the Park again with Mama this
most beautiful day, she enjoying it as of yore, and as full of
pleasure and observation as I ever remember. In short, it is quite
difficult to me to realize how ill she has been since I saw her in
June. She seems and looks so well. She is a marvellous person, so
young and fresh in all her interests, sight and hearing betraying
so little sign of change. She says she is out of practice, and her
_playing_ is not as easy or as vigorous as it was, I thought;
but how few people of her age would return to it at all after such
a long illness. (There are the sounds of music overhead as I sit
here in the drawing-room--how she enjoys it!) ... About the
reading--Dr. Gardiner [116] was against her being prevented from a
little--she enjoys it so much. Sinclair reading to her is a great
comfort.

[116] Medical attendant and valued friend for over twelve years, partner to Dr. Anderson, of Richmond, with whom he attended Lady Russell till her death.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _November_ 15, 1897

Eighty-two this day. God be praised for all he has given to
brighten my old age. God be praised that I am still able to love,
to think, to rejoice, and to mourn with those dear to me. But the
burden of wasted years of a long life, in which I see failure on
every side, is weighty and painful, and can never be lightened. I
can only pray that the few steps left to me to take may be on a
holier path--the narrow path that leads to God. My own blessings
only brought more vividly to my mind the masses of toiling,
struggling, poverty-stricken fellow-creatures, from whom the
pressure of want shuts out the light of life.

My Agatha well, weather beautiful, and seventy very happy boys and
girls from the school to see a ventriloquist and his acting dolls
(drawing-room cleared for the occasion). The children's bursts and
shouts of laughter delightful to hear.

Lady Russell was wonderfully well that day--her last birthday on earth--and joined in the fun and laughter as heartily as any of the children. Old age had not lessened her keen enjoyment of humour, nor dimmed the brightness of her brave spirit.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _December_ 11, 1897

A beautiful day for old scholars' meeting. Ninety-four came, a
larger number than ever before; table spread in drawing-room and
bow-room. Not able to go down to see them, but all went well and
merrily. I was able to get to my sitting-room in the afternoon, and
all came up to me by turns for a hand-shake. It was pleasant to see
so many kindly, happy faces.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _January_ 1, 1898

What will 1898 bring of joy or sorrow, good or evil, life or death,
to our home, our country, the world? May we be ready for all,
whatever it may be.

Six days later she was attacked by influenza, which turned to bronchitis, and very soon she became seriously ill. There was for one day a slight hope that she might recover, but the rally was only temporary, and soon it was certain that death was near.

The last book that her daughter had been reading to her was the "Life of Tennyson," by his son, which she very much enjoyed. She begged her daughter to go on reading it to her in the last days of her life, and her keen interest in it was wonderful, even when she was too ill to listen to more than a few sentences at a time.

For some years Lady Russell had found great amusement and delight in the visits of a little wild squirrel--squirrels abounded among the old trees at Pembroke Lodge--which gradually became more and more tame and friendly. It used to climb up to her windows by a lilac-bush or a climbing rose-tree and look brightly in at her while enjoying the nuts she gave it on the window-sill. Before long it became very venturesome, and would enter the room daily and frisk about, or sit on her writing-table or on the tea-table in perfect content, taking food from her hand. On the last day of her life the doctor [117] was sitting by her bedside when suddenly he noticed the beautiful little squirrel bounding in at her window. It was only a few hours before she died, but her face lighted up at once, and she welcomed her faithful little friend, for the last time, with her brightest smile.

[117] Dr. Anderson, who had been for nearly thirty years a true and devoted friend.

During her illness she had spoken confidently of recovery, but the night before her death she realized quite clearly that the end was near. Her son and daughter were with her; and just before she sank into a last sleep she spoke, in a firm clear voice, words of love and faith. Her mind had remained unclouded, and her end was as calm and peaceful as those who loved her could have wished. She died on January 17, 1898.