Chapter IX (2)

I went with Octavia yesterday to see the piece of ground that the Ecclesiastical Commissioners have given for the garden. It is a larger piece than I had expected, and is in the midst of poor people’s houses. It will be a boon. At present it is in a deplorable state—covered with rubbish, and with an empty warehouse on it, and high back walls on each side. Lord Ducie told his wife he thought it “the most unpromising piece of ground that he had ever seen.” But all the more delightful will it be to get trees, grass, and water there. Thou knows that Lady Ducie has promised all the money for the laying out, and O. is now busy planning a large hall near the garden, to be available for parties, classes, etc. She thinks that she can arrange it so as to keep several cottages still standing (always her great wish in this time of huge blocks), if the Commissioners will let her lease the site that she wishes for. She has thoroughly interested their surveyor in her plan.

[Sidenote: DEATH OF MR. SHAEN]

14, Nottingham Place,
March 4th, 1887.

TO MRS. EDMUND MAURICE.

I gather that you have not seen the terribly sad news which reached me yesterday about dear Mr. Shaen. He is gone from us, and in a moment. I think of the girls and Mrs. Shaen, but I cannot help feeling, too, how irreparable is such a loss of a friend of nearly thirty years’ standing, who never failed in noble and wise counsel, and to whose judgment nearly all the work I ever did has owed so much. And one was so sure, not only of his wisdom and generosity, but of his kindness. It is a heavy blow.

14, Nottingham Place, W.,
March 15th, 1887.

TO MISS SHAEN.

DEAREST MAGGIE,

Looking back on Mr. Shaen’s life as I remember it, and his character, as I saw it, nothing is to me so wonderful as the tenderness and the silence of it. The pity and the chivalry were quite infinite; and the expression of them was absolutely in deeds only. Then, I should think, there never was a more entire truth of nature than his; no shadow of lie or equivocation could sully it. Hence, I think, the purity of his nature. Amid the noisy and shallow philanthropy we see around us, how the silent service of a life stands out! The memory of it is a possession for ever; and there is a rebuke to our faithlessness in the memory of his faith that the only thing was the right thing. How poor all these words seem! but, believe me, they come with a love that will last on, and on which you may count.—I am

Your affte. old friend,
OCTAVIA HILL.

The laying out as a garden of the Quaker Burial Ground.

14, Not. Pl., W.
Sunday, March 15th.

TO MRS. EDMUND MAURICE.

Miss Y. and I went down to Quaker St. yesterday. The ground seems nicely finished.... Mrs. W. was very full of joy about it—said she thought it would save the children from accidents; the streets were so crowded with drays, and children could play in the garden till parents or elders fetched them. She said it had been crowded with children when the man was painting there. Mr. W. came in while we were there. He said he had hoped for some little opening (ceremony), but added, “it is a small thing,” in a voice that showed it was anything but that to them. He said quite cheerfully he should just have their teachers, and march the children in, and have a little chat about not throwing stones.

[Sidenote: RUSKIN’S INFLUENCE]

April 2nd, 1887.

TO SYDNEY COCKERELL.

I think your own instincts will guide you better than any words of mine, when you come face to face with Ruskin, as to what to talk of with him. It will be an event in your life, and I hope you may talk only of what is bright as well as good. If you felt as if any mention of me, or the work you help me in, comes under this head, I should be greatly delighted; but, if it does not, then I am quite ready to leave all in silence, till the time when the understanding of all we have all meant here shall be perfect. Don’t risk clouds in your visit, _whatever you do_....

January 18th, 1888.

I beg you in all advice and in all speech to think _only_ of what is best for Mr. Ruskin; that is _really_ all that matters now.

June 8th, 1887.

TO MR. SYDNEY COCKERELL.

It is the greatest joy to me to think that you and Olive will be able to be such a comfort to Mr. Ruskin, and that you will have the marvellous joy of the intercourse with him. You will gather memories which life will never take away.... It is a high honour and great blessing which has come to you both. I believe you will walk worthily of it in the time to come, with, as it were, your shoes put off your feet; for indeed the spirit which will be near you will make the place holy ground.

April 24th, 1888.

It is very nice to have some news now and again from out of the death-like silence into which the friendship of nearly a lifetime has fallen. As you know, I believe the silence is the best for Mr. Ruskin; and so, if you take my advice, you will not break it on that side.

Switzerland,
(July 2nd?) 1887.

TO HER MOTHER.

... I suppose Miranda will have told you of the offer of the ticket for the Abbey[101] to me. I do not know whether it is the news coming here, so far away; but it has impressed me rather. I cannot think why I, who have done so simply, and at no great cost, just what lay before me, should be singled out in this kind of way. I always feel as if I ought to do, or be, something more, in order to deserve it. What a wonderful state London seems to have been in about the Jubilee! What recollections the Queen must have had crowding on her at the service!

March, 1887.

? TO THE SECRETARY OF THE ECCLESIASTICAL COMMISSIONERS.

DEAR SIR,

You were interested about the plan of my taking charge of the houses occupied by the poor on the Southwark Estate of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners; and I am anxious you should know how matters stand, as I feel as if the future of the people might be influenced by it. May I therefore tell you the state of affairs?

[Sidenote: ECCLESIASTICAL COMMISSIONERS]

I was ready to have taken over all the weekly property in Southwark in the hands of the Commissioners. I was very willing to accept the decision that I should begin with a third or so of it, which I took over on May 5th. I was _most_ anxious to have leased to me the portion of the ground allotted to the permanent housing of the poor, which was then unlet to builders. It would have rendered the personal work that we are doing among the tenants tenfold more useful, because we could have continued our work among them, and kept them together, with some sense of a corporate body, when the time came for the destruction of the present houses, instead of their being either scattered or handed over to the government of an ordinary builder.

The portion of the property handed over to our charge appears to be that most directly doomed to destruction, either by rebuilding by others, or by railways, or owing to its condition or situation. A large part of it, we are told, may be wanted this month. The whole of the land for rebuilding for the poor is now let.

The past cannot be helped. But I wonder if there is anything that you can do, to render our work more permanent, or to let it lead up to anything. I have written to Lord Stanhope and to Mr. Clutton to ask, in another form, the same question. They are both most kind; but I am anxious that you too should know the facts. Their past action makes me a little fear that either they hardly grasp the importance of the point, in their interest and pleasure in the new buildings, or, for some other reason, they may not decide to hand over more to our care....

It is always difficult to take away paid work from those who have done it in the old way well, in order to introduce another plan. Whether it is right to do so, must depend on the excellence of the new plan, which must be a matter of opinion.

In my estimation, of course, such personal work as my friends and I can give is the only way to raise these people. We are quite willing to go on, and do what little we can, till our tenants must leave us; but what we do can never have the effect that it would have, if, in any way, we could retain them longer near us.

What is still feasible is, first, to give over to our care some of the weekly tenements which are in a more solid state of repair, and which may therefore stand longer as cottages; and to give us these in addition to what we have. So you would extend our work. So you would give us the interest of more permanent work. So you would enable us, perhaps, to keep near us some of the tenants to whom we feel it most important, when our present houses are pulled down. Second, you might give me, or some of my friends, a lease of some of your houses. As you (as Commissioners) do not see your way to keep them under your own direct control, you might lease them to us, though leases are hateful things.

I fancy the latter plan is the one to which Mr. Clutton sees his way; but I hope that it will not be all that you will do. Several courts, substantial in themselves, and not, as I understand, doomed to come down, unless they interfere with larger schemes, remain in your hands.

If there is no valid reason, unknown to me, I hope these may be confided to us.

[Sidenote: THE VAUXHALL GARDEN]

July ?, 1887.

FROM MIRANDA TO MRS. EDMUND MAURICE.

Our life is a very busy one, as usual. Octavia’s Sunday afternoons in Red Cross Hall have been a wonderful success; the people have come in increasing numbers, and seem to enjoy the music and the books and illustrated papers greatly.... We are now very busy and interested about another Open Space—a garden for Vauxhall. Fawcett’s house stands there; and the large grounds of that and the adjoining house are offered for sale for a public park.... Out of £44,000, all has been promised except £7,000, and Octavia is working with all her might to get this together. There is to be a meeting at Lambeth Palace at which Mrs. Fawcett and Octavia are to speak. It is to us so strange that there is such readiness to give large sums to technical schools, which could be built at any time, and such backwardness about giving to Open Spaces, which, if lost now, can never be recovered. Individuals are generous about it, and certainly public interest in the question has grown; but corporate bodies, with money to give at their discretion, seem slow to see the advantages as yet.

July 17th, 1887.

MIRANDA TO MARY HARRIS.

Octavia and I were at such an interesting open-air meeting at South Lambeth yesterday, to consider the advisability of buying The Lawn (Fawcett’s old house and grounds), and the adjoining grounds, which are large and beautifully wooded, to form a park for Lambeth. The speakers were in waggons, the audience chiefly working men. The appreciation of the Open Spaces was very striking. Octavia said how public opinion on the subject has grown. The working men’s comments that we—being in the crowd—heard, were very interesting. I must say I thought their spirit very good. The only thing was they would not listen to any speakers on the other side, tho’ asked to do so by their chairman—evidently a popular man; and tho’ several of the nicest of the audience said, “Give the man a hearing,” “Let’s hear the other side.” But the desire to gain the park, even at the increase of rates, was _very_ strong, quite unmistakable; also the warm way in which they responded to a speaker who described the temptation to drink, of people who had been sleeping and working in impure air, and who said that drink really took more strength out than it put in. “What is the best tonic after labour?” asked he—and many voices shouted “Fresh air, fresh air.” In fact I thought the Temperance view of the question excited more enthusiasm than any other, except the good the park would do to the children. “If we can’t enjoy it often, the little uns will,” I heard one man say to another aside.

We are so delighted that the Hampstead Vestry has at last voted £20,000 for the purchase of Parliament Hill, by forty-five votes to ten. There was a majority of twenty-one against it on the last occasion.

The Countess of Ducie’s, Tortworth Court,
August 21st, 1887.

OCTAVIA TO MISS ELLEN CHASE.

I hope that you and Miss Terry reached home safely.... You would find some troublesome little scraps of paper about roofs. They were all I could manage before I left. I write now to say that I must ask you to use your own discretion on arriving at Queen Street. My own strong impression is that the downpour probably arose from causes which operated in all sorts of houses, poor and rich; that is, that the arrangements were not calculated to meet such a storm as Wednesday’s. I know the gutters, which run from back to front of houses in Queen Street, are narrow. They are formed of flat pieces of zinc which are turned up at the edges under the tiles—thus.

[Sidenote: REFORMS IN DEPTFORD]

If the bit which runs up is not wide, the water gets over the edge, if the gutter becomes too full, and enters the house under the tile. For this there is no remedy but a wider gutter. This I do not think it worth while to put for exceptional storms. If this seems to you likely, or if you can elicit from Moore that this is the cause, just say nothing; order the plaster of ceilings, or other urgent internal work to be reinstated. We can take our time as to further radical improvement. If, however, the gutter is itself defective, or Moore distinctly asserts that it is, and that he can patch it up for a few shillings, let him do that; and the sooner the better.... If the E.’s are gone, get on swiftly with repairs required for letting there. Tell French polisher at 33 that we shall have a house when it is done up; but try not to show it, till it looks pretty nice....

November 14th, 1887.

TO MR. SYDNEY COCKERELL.

You will remember well Mr. Cooper’s great gift to us, and will have seen his death in Saturday’s paper.

I propose to put up to him a slab in the wall at Southwark, with these words:—

“To the Honble. Henry Frederick Cooper, whom we never saw, whom we hoped to see; but God took him to Himself before we could rejoice him by our joy here, or thank him with audible words. November, 1887.”

If you think that any of the members of the club, poor or rich, would _like_ to join in the memorial by giving a few pence, will you, when occasion offers, ask them? The money I shall myself provide gladly; so no one need help who doesn’t wish to. I write to you because you know all about the gift, and how it helped us. Don’t say a word if you think it better not; I leave it entirely to you.

I send you a copy of our Parliament Hill papers, ... but we have a huge sum still to raise, upwards of £20,000; it comes in daily, and we mean to carry it through; but we shall have to strain every nerve.

14, Nottingham Place, W.,
March 2nd, 1888.

TO MR. SYDNEY COCKERELL.

After an elaborate discussion of a difference between the members of the club and the trustees, and suggestions for removing that difference, she says they (the club members) are much the best judges of their own business, and if they don’t think it does we must see if we can think of a plan that they approve.

I am sorry that they didn’t approve of the scheme of our appointing a representative. I didn’t mean it for want of confidence in them; but a club is a changing body; who is to say which of its members will be there and powerful for the whole time of the lease?

[Sidenote: PATH OVER SKIDDAW SECURED]

May 17th, 1888.

MIRANDA TO MRS. DURRANT.

We are very much interested just now in the defence of foot-paths in Lake District. Some land-owners are shutting up old rights of way, and preventing people from ascending the mountains. A very brave clergyman,[102] a friend of Octavia’s, who has a parish at Keswick, has taken up the defence of these rights, and is threatened with a very expensive law-suit. He and the other “defenders” are appealing to the public of the large towns to help with a guarantee fund. A meeting was organised at Hampstead which turned out very successfully.

14, Nottingham Place,
July 14th, 1888.

TO MR. SYDNEY COCKERELL.

I hope you have had a very happy time away. What a wonderful thing it seems your meeting Mr. Ruskin! and what an added interest it must have been to all things, translating them into vivid and permanent life! A memory that will be a possession for ever.

You will be interested to see the great Latrigg[103] success! I fancy you may like to have a copy of the speech that I made at the perilous juncture, now happily no more needed for distribution.

Larksfield,
September 2nd, 1888.

TO HER MOTHER.

I think of you, dearest Mama, a great deal, and long for the time when you will be nearer us; meantime I never feel far away at all, I am so sure of your sympathy about all I am thinking of and working for. I do not think you know MacDonald’s “Diary of an Old Soul,” do you? There is a very beautiful part of the August portion of it, about forgetfulness of God, and His memory of us, and the nearness to Him, which I think you would like. The last verse always naturally makes me think of you; but I think there never could have been any mother, of whom it was so true that she desired no personal nearness, so that she was entirely one with what her children did. Your love seems entirely free from a touch of self in it; and I always feel as near you away as when I am by you.

14, Nottingham Place, W.,
September 23rd, 1888.

TO HER MOTHER.

We had the first evening performance at Red Cross Hall yesterday of “The Pilgrim’s Progress.” The hall looked beautiful, lighted up. It was a moonlight night, and the cottages and gardens looked lovely. I found the Committeemen very busy and happy and important. Everything was ready, and the curtain up and looking very pretty. The hall was full. Many of the workers were there and very happy. One of the Committeemen said to me, “Considering the neighbourhood, you couldn’t have a more respectable audience!” The MacDonalds seemed happy and busy. When the play began it was most beautiful. It is wonderful they can act it as they do, with the blanks in their company death has made; but it only seems to have made it to them truer and more solemn. Some of the scenes—notably that in the Valley of Humiliation—seem to me more beautiful than ever; so is the grouping. Also, in the dark valley, when the little boy asks Great Heart to draw his sword against the shadow, and he tells him that no weapon avails there but All Prayer, and they fall into a short procession, Great Heart first, alone, then the two couples of little boys in their red and black little dresses, then Christiana and Mercy, the one in a lovely old black dress, and the other in the fairest blue and white, and they troop off chanting, all their hands raised. It is _most_ beautiful. The working men, I hear, felt the play most. I fancy they followed the sense best.

[Sidenote: PERFORMANCE OF PILGRIM’S PROGRESS]

14, Nottingham Place,
October 8th, 1888.

TO HER MOTHER.

As you say, the teachings of history show us the reason of our hope. There is no subject so curious to me as this of the influence of circumstances. In some cases their power, in others their powerlessness. But that we must _all_ try to make them better with might and main, there is no doubt. Then we may leave all trustfully in God’s hands....

I see no chance of even a day at my beloved thistles[104] as yet—am very busy.

December 16th, 1888.

MIRANDA HILL TO ELLEN CHASE.

The Lawn Meeting went off very well yesterday at Lambeth Palace. The speeches were capital, the Dean of Windsor’s (Miss Tait’s brother-in-law), and Mrs. Fawcett’s, Mr. Edwards’s (the clergyman of the district, who gave an interesting sketch of the movement) and finally Mr. Lester’s. He is a working man, such an enthusiast for the garden, and his was a delightful speech. He told us he was an engine-driver, and was at work from 4 a.m. to 7 p.m. often. He said, I earn my bread by the sweat of my brow and am quite agreeable to do so; but, when I come down from that beastly stokehole, I do wish to breathe some of that pure air that the Almighty has made for all men. I think his speech interested people more than anybody else’s. Miss Octavia’s, of course, was beautiful, and was valued, I think. Such a beautiful letter from Florence Nightingale was read to the meeting. Miss O. says that of all the people who have spoken or written on Open Spaces, F. Nightingale has got most to the heart of the matter.

January 7th, 1889.

TO MIRANDA.

I thought you ought to know before the world that the meeting went beautifully to-day. The men’s spirit was really beautiful, so child-like, trustful and dignified. The Prince’s face is refined and intellectual and full of power. His speech was beautiful, very simple and very human, very fluently graceful. Mrs. Benson came, and she and the Prince and the Archbishop were charmed with the men’s spirit, and the naturalness of the whole little ceremony. They said they wished all meetings were like that.... The great certainty as to the thoroughness of the work they had themselves done, mingled with their interest in the Royal visit, was delightful. They were most keen to have a card framed in record of the day, and apologised for not thinking my scrubby little thing quite good enough! I brought them up to the Archbishop telling them he, not I, should sign it, whereupon they explained it was for their “offspring,” that if, L. added “I should live, and he should live to be King, I might tell them I’ve shaken hands with the Crown.” Also they were very emphatic about the hearty good shake of the hand the Prince had given each. “None of your shaking with one little finger. We working men know a right good shake of the hand. We haven’t all been dragged up,” said one man.

[Sidenote: BUSINESS VIRTUES]

January 13th, 1889.

TO A FRIEND WHO IS GIVING UP ART FOR BUSINESS.

I cannot but feel how hard the sacrifice is to you just now; but do you know I really believe that the partnership will be the best. I remember so well somewhat similar trial in my own early life, and how I seemed to have to turn away from my ideal; and, by unexpected ways, I found, years afterwards, that just the sacrifice I had to make brought me, by ways that I did not know, to that ideal. Anyway, I think that the steady work, combined with the love of all high things, will be so good. Anyway, I pray that all may be ordered for you in your Father’s own way for the very best.

South Lodge,
January 21st, 1889.

MRS. HILL TO MIRANDA.

Octavia told us a great deal about Charles’s election,[105] all very pleasant. He seems to have won golden opinions by his directness, and has been much touched by the extreme kindness he has received. The election has been conducted on most honourable and courteous terms. Charles says he never should have won but for Gertrude. Her wonderful organising power told on the day. Octa. spoke at the evening meeting (she seems no longer to dread speaking). Charles’s working men were enthusiastic, waited till two o’clock in the morning to hear the result.

February 24th, 1889.

MIRANDA TO MISS ELLEN CHASE.

The other week Octavia made such a beautiful speech for the C.O.S. at Fulham Palace (the Bishop of London’s). I went with her and Miss Yorke to the meeting there. The old palace is so fine, stands in a park with a moat, and looks as if it were far in the country—not near town at all. There is an old hall, built in Henry VII.’s time (though altered in the last century), with carved wooden screen and ancient full-length portraits.... In _that_ hall the meeting was.... The Bishop—Temple (former headmaster of Rugby), and his wife were very friendly. He gave a most amusing account in his speech of how Miss O. had convinced him and the other Ecclesiastical Commissioners that they were wrong, and she was right, about certain points. He said: “When she had talked to us for half an hour we were quite refuted. I never had such a beating in my life! Consequently I feel great respect for her. So fully did she convince us, that we not only did what she asked us on that estate, but proceeded to carry out similar plans on other estates.” Miss O. supposes he refers to the gift of land for Open Spaces, and is very pleased, not having known before that those gifts were the result of her representations to the Coms. about Red X Garden.

14, Nottingham Place,
February 18th, 1886.

TO MIRANDA.

I left Mama at South Lodge this morning. She read me yesterday some of Miss Wedgwood’s book,[106] XI.—the chapter about the Romans and Law. It reminded me a little of things that Mr. Maurice has said, but was very different, too. I was much interested by what she says about the influence of women, as shown in Homer and Virgil, and on to the Middle Ages.

[Sidenote: THE PARLIAMENT HILL MOVEMENT]

March, 1889.

This letter requires a few words of explanation. The long negotiation for securing the addition of Parliament Hill and the adjoining lands to Hampstead Heath, begun in 1884, had just been concluded. They had involved negotiations with the old Metropolitan Board of Works (which expired just at the close of our negotiations), and with two ground landlords, besides appeals to three vestries and to a large number of private persons. The meeting, referred to in the following letter, was held at Grosvenor House to decide on the question of the application of the surplus of the funds raised by the Committee. Octavia and the majority of the Committee were in favour of using the money for the general movement for preserving open spaces; the proposal of the amendment was to apply it to securing access from Kentish Town to the Parliament Hill Fields.

TO MIRANDA.

The meeting was a great success, and very animated. It was very full. There were fourteen reporters. The Duke of Westminster came up on purpose to take the chair, but was ill, and could not.

Rogers Field moved his amendment _re_ the balance. Mr. Ewan Christian seconded. There was great excitement, and I thought great sympathy with the amendment. Mr. Baines replied, and then Edmund made a speech. We won by 22 votes. Miss Yorke was very keen, and asked me with great eagerness if she might vote, and did it _con amore_.

Sir Thos. Farrer[107] made a beautiful speech, referring to his memories of Coleridge and Crabbe at Hampstead. Lord Hobhouse made a fine speech, noble in tone, dwelling on London as a whole, and what it might be, if municipal feeling drew together the great Londoners.

Mr. Saml. Hoare referred to the struggle that he remembered his father had had, _nearly alone_, to save the Heath itself, and the growth of public interest in the subject. He also spoke of Mr. Shaw-Lefevre’s help in those early difficult days.

Maud[108] was there, and much interested in seeing Mr. Shaw-Lefevre, whose face she much liked.

March 30th, 1889.

TO MIRANDA.

I had a pleasant Red Cross Committee, very. The gymnasium was in full swing; such a number of great hulking youths, so energetic and happy.

Mr. B. was very much delighted, and said that it did so much good to their physique. He says our sergeant is very good. The appeal for the corps reads so well. Was it you who helped me with it? They propose a meeting, with some military man in the chair, some afternoon at four o’clock; and the local magnates invited by a card, to be sent out with a printed appeal. The men were delighted with the idea, and seemed so full of sympathy and go.

I thought you would like to see Miss Sewell’s nice letter. (Miss Sewell was head of Southwark settlement.) I have, as you will know, replied that we should not dream of any move till winter next year, and must be guided by what we see best then.

I cannot tell whether dear old Marylebone or Southwark will seem the most natural working centre, nor how far such a body as the Settlement would leave you and me enough sense of home.

[Sidenote: RED CROSS CLUB]

April 26th, 1889.

TO HER MOTHER.

Lady Nicholson has brought the loveliest panels, painted for Red Cross Men’s Club. A large set of water lilies and other water plants, with bulrushes and kingfishers for the centre over the mantelpiece. A panel with swallows and wild roses, one with titmice, one with a wren, and one with a robin. She has given me £2 for fixing and mounting. Will it not be nice to have all that colour down in Southwark? Miranda and I were there to-day, and found everything looking very nice. M. was much pleased with Gable Cottages.... Miss Cons seems to be doing beautiful work at the L. C. Council, inspiring everyone, and keeping herself in the shade. She amused us much with her account of getting the Lawn resolution passed.

M. and I went to-day to see Mr. Hoole[109] about some more cottages. He was so nice. He is just going to Wells, where you know he is building some cottages for the Bishop. I am so glad to have given him the introduction. He seems to have been delighted with both Bishop and beauty of town.

We have just received a basket of camellias from Hillside. I wish you could see their lovely red and white. _That_ is what I am always wishing about all things. However, the next best thing is the telling you about them.

Crockham,
May 5th, 1889.

TO HER MOTHER.

I went to Waterloo and met Col. Maurice, and we proceeded to Blackheath. A pleasant little victoria met us, and drove us to the Ranger’s Lodge, a house which stands facing Blackheath, with a magnificent view of blue distance; and on the London side such a space of blue quite studded with steeples and towers. The Ranger’s Lodge is an old mansion, with great panelled rooms all painted white, and hung with old portraits. The house belongs to the Queen, and has been given to Lord Wolseley for his lifetime. It belonged to Lord Chesterfield and to Lady Mayo. In what is now the kitchen garden stood the house where Queen Caroline lived; and her mother (the Duchess of Brunswick?) lived in the Ranger’s Lodge. There are twenty acres of lovely old garden, with smooth lawns and great cedar trees; and all round the grounds stretch the glades of Greenwich Park; one magnificent avenue of chestnuts, in full young green, specially delighted me. Lady W. is so delighted with the place.... I was charmed with her, and with her simple, tall, pretty daughter; also I liked Lord W. very much; and it was very interesting to hear him talk. He has a very simple, reverent sort of interest in all sorts of subjects, not his own.... They were all very kind and helpful to me....

Mindful of your words, I was out at 5½ this morning gardening in the cool. The cuckoo and lark kept me glad company.

[Sidenote: PLEA FOR THE CADET CORPS]

Larksfield,
May 19th, 1889.

TO HER MOTHER.

I am specially interested about article by Col. Maurice, because I have been thinking a great deal about the matter lately. Of course I realise all you say about war; but I do not feel any doubts about the Volunteer Cadet Corps; for at least three reasons. First, I do feel defensive war right, if by sad necessity it should ever be called for, which I greatly doubt. Secondly, because the volunteer movement seems to me a helpful form for preparation to take, contrasting strongly with all standing armies. And a peculiarly safe form for military preparation, because (_sic_) men who have homes and professions and very varied sympathies and thoughts do not seem to me the least likely to hurry us on to any war. Thirdly, because I do so clearly see that exercise, discipline, obedience, _esprit-de-corps_, camping out, manly companionship with the gentlemen who will be their officers, will be to our Southwark lads the very best possible education. I see very forcibly all Mr. Brooke says about how it fills a great gap in their education; also I have watched the marvellous growth in the few Queen Street young men who have joined the militia. It has been the saving of them. I dare say a great deal will be said about the movement, on its military side, that I shall in no way agree with; but I a little stand aside, and let the good and true men, who are helping, and whose scheme it really is, carry on, a little by my strength, their own thoughtfully planned scheme; just as I might lend a hall to Salvationists or others, who on the whole were teaching what was right, tho’ I could not myself teach or agree with all they say. Only in this case I am more heartily with my fellow workers. I do feel that neither Mr. Barnett nor Mr. Brooke, who believe this movement reaches a sort of boy that nothing else does, and reforms him, are either of them men to desire to strengthen a love of war. In fact I see, what they, who know the lads better than I, say most emphatically, that all the temptations to war are entirely absent from these boys; they are cowardly and wanting in power of endurance, wanting in power of standing together, worshippers of money. All which the volunteer movement will teach them will, I believe, be helpful. So at least they say, and so I believe, and to a great degree have seen....

14 Nottingham Place, W.
May 29th, 1889.

TO HER MOTHER.

I am delighted to think of the day being fixed for seeing you. Miss Yorke is not here to-night, but she would, I know, be _delighted_ for you to come to Crockham. It is the very thing she has been building on, and caring to try to plan for. I long to have you there in the silent, cheerful little house, which catches every ray of sunlight there is, and where, even tho’ we have no real garden, the buttercups, the broom, the forget-me-nots, and the daisies are set like gems among the grass and bright sorrel. Miss Yorke wants you to occupy the room that has access to the balcony, so that we shall have a little out-door sitting-room when we want to be absolutely quiet, and there are writing places and things so that we can sit up there, indoors too, whenever we like. I shall bring down needle work; and I am looking forward to reading and work together; and it seems to me as if it would be so peaceful and so bright. Miss Yorke has specially planned this little separate place, because she knows how much you care for solitude, and how much I am looking forward to a quiet time with you.... I could bring you any or every meal you like. I hope to get the little carriage for some drives; and I am counting the hours till you come. Still I know what a hermit you sometimes like to be.

[Sidenote: MRS. HILL’S VISIT TO MISS YORKE]

... No dear Mama, I did not accept the post on the Commission.[110] Even if I could have done the work (and I had no special qualifications), there are others who can and will be pretty sure to do it; and I could not have done it without losing some of the near intercourse with tenants and workers, and even with you all, which makes work go so very differently. I have so often in my life thought, in deciding about taking work, of Marion Earle’s[111] words, when she leaves the work the fashionable people are asking for, and goes to nurse the bed-ridden comrade who is poor and out of sight,

“Let others miss me
Never miss me, God.”

I wrote a very careful letter, not a formal one, in reply, and have had the enclosed very nice answer.

Larksfield,
June 9th, 1889.

TO HER MOTHER.

It is strange how that word “Society” is always used for that which is superficial and selfish, if not worse. I have not read Garibaldi’s life, but one gets a vivid idea of it from Mrs. King’s “Disciples.”

Andy will tell you how busy I have been with references for Ossington. It is refreshing to come in contact with such happy-looking neat little homes.... I think a lark has built in our long grass; it returns so often to the same spot; and two wood pigeons frequent the place and perch on the small trees so prettily. The thistles are vigorous; every time I cut them I expect next time they will be weaker, but they are not; however, there are much more various things growing among them, each of which delights me.

14, Nottingham Place, W.
June 17th, 1889.

TO HER MOTHER.

I put some heartsease in my dress, a thing I hardly ever do; but there came into my mind that bit from the Pilgrim’s Progress when the shepherd hands it to the pilgrims, and says it grows so well in the Valley of Humility, and comes fresh from the king’s hand every day, and that it increases by sharing. So, feeling a little low at having left you, I put some in my dress and Margy’s brooch on, and sat down to write, a formidable pile of letters being before me.... I am glad to have heard the latter part of the beautiful life of Garibaldi.

[Sidenote: LARKSFIELD CROCKHAM HILL]

Larksfield,
June 23rd, 1889.

TO HER MOTHER.

Oh it is so lovely here! And it is so delightful to watch what nature has done, now that she has taken possession of the ground, what lovely and various things she has set in it. I have been thinking how you would rejoice in it all. There are wild roses in the hedges, and many more foxgloves than last year; then there are great beds of white clover, and patches of golden lady’s finger, and spaces of buttercup and potentilla, and tall large heads of crimson clover; the pink mallow is in bud; so is the sweet brier; but all these and many more are set in great spaces of the loveliest tall grass and sorrel, every colour from emerald green thro’ gold and silver and grey and orange, to deep crimson and russet brown, gradating one into another, and glowing as the wind bends the tufts of grass.... I keep thinking how you would enjoy the wealth of wild beauty all round; one just steps out of this window and finds oneself on a sort of fraternal nearness with tall grass and stately and lovely flower. Every one that passes away this year I have wished you could see.

July 6th, 1889.

TO MR. SYDNEY COCKERELL.

You have chosen work which is not after your own heart, rightly, I think; and I believe a great blessing will be on it. I think it will give continuity and reality to a life that might else have gone like so many artists’ lives into freaks and fancies, instead of into practicable, serviceable work, glorified by imaginative thought, high ideals, and artistic joy; but having chosen it, and the days in the main being not what call out your full power, I hope you may have many opportunities of real enjoyment; and for this you will need all spare power, seeing that you will, I know, always be helping those nearest you very abundantly....

I quite feel what you say as to the duty of seeing first to whatever grows naturally out of your own work. It is certainly a first duty, and I should be very wrong if, for the sake of retaining your help, I said a word on the other side. You must discount anything I say with the thought that I may be unconsciously biassed. In fact I hesitate to give advice. For I think you will probably feel your way to what is right for you to do, with a true instinct. But as you ask me, I will tell you one or two things that strike me about it. I understand your letter to mean that there are two kinds of work which might lead you to give up Southwark. One is required for the conduct and development of the business. On this clearly I can give no opinion at all. So far as the Southwark work interferes with due performance of this, clearly it must be given up; and all one would want you to remember is the importance of rightly estimating the “due”; for, first, it must be generously and liberally estimated; secondly it must be estimated with full care of health; and thirdly there is a something, small it may be when one is young, but still a something, which in every life may and should be given to the help of the desolate people and districts out of one’s beat or outside one’s work, which, rightly estimated, and deliberately restricted, may be continued for years, and tell by its continuity, and by the fact that the donor has gained weight and power in other fields.

Then, secondly, I read your letter to mean that you think such gift should be to your own employés, and those nearer you. There I am heartily with you; manifestly that is every man’s first duty, and all the more so, because the coming in contact with them in business also tests the wisdom and truth of the work and its spirit. So that I should naturally have looked forward to that sphere, when the time comes....

I purposely say nothing of how _very_ much I should miss you. I do not like to think of it.

[Sidenote: THE “BALLAD-MONGER”]

14, Nottingham Place.
July 20th, 1889.

TO MR. SYDNEY COCKERELL.

Miranda and I were delighted with the “Ballad-Monger,” and very much interested to think of your pleasure in it. I think Gringoire very wonderful. That artist’s nature, _alive_ from head to heels; that exquisite appreciation of life full of joy, with the utter readiness to lay it down, which comes from holding things, as it were, loosely, because so much by the heart. It gave me a little the same feeling as St. Francis, against whom everything was powerless, because he was above pain, or loss, or death, or exile, or fear, and yet to whom every bird was a brother. The utter unselfishness and dignity of Gringoire was wonderful.

The King and Loyse were each beautiful in their way; the stillness of Loyse when she is, as it were, drawn to him, was very beautiful. We both have to thank you for a great pleasure.

July 21st, 1889.

TO HER MOTHER.

I am probably going to Oxford on the 31st, to read a paper at the opening meeting of the University Extension.... There will be 1,000 people; but I understand them to break up into sections. I do not know what audience I shall have.... (Then follows an account of the “Ballad-Monger”) ... I went to Red X Hall yesterday, as the police band were to play.... It was very nice to talk to the men, and see their great delight in watching the growth of the trees and creepers and plants. Last night I dined at Lambeth; the Archbishop telegraphed to ask me. He is to speak on the clause about children being employed in theatres, in the House of Lords on Monday, and wanted to talk it over. I had time to arm myself with a capital letter from Miss Davenport Hill; and we had a very interesting, and I hope not useless, talk.

July 28th, 1889.

TO HER MOTHER.

The great event of the week was the party at Arthur’s,[112] which was beautiful. The grounds and gardens are lovely.... You will have heard of the torrents of rain as we went to the station, but has anyone told you that the sunlight was quite exquisite all the afternoon?—also that two waggons and two carriages took, I should think, quite 100 people? No one is one bit worse for the rain; they only seem to remember the kindness and the beauty.... We have been making progress towards securing the “Laundry” long desired by Miss Yorke.... Two ladies interested in the neighbourhood have sent £200 to help the scheme forward.

Larksfield,
August 11th, 1889.

TO MIRANDA.

I was _so_ delighted to receive your sweet letter to-day; and quite like a child in my delight at the bags. They are pretty, and the letters exactly what I wanted. We pinned some paper ones on on Tuesday; and they all came off, to the great confusion of the money. Also these nice letters give a kind of individuality which I do like in a bag, or a cup, or anything I use.

Larksfield,
August 15th, 1889.

TO MR. S. COCKERELL.

I have never thought the world’s regard, or money-success, or worldly surroundings worth anything; and, when they fall away from us, I think that it is often that they may leave us freer to enter into realities.

[Sidenote: OCTAVIA’S FEELING TO RUSKIN]

December 7th, 1889.

TO MR. S. COCKERELL.

I return the valuable letter with many thanks to Olive and to you for letting me see it. I had not done so before. I think he is right about the forgiveness; and I think it _is_ hard that any of you should expect a man, who had the place in the world that he had when he knew me as a girl of not fifteen years, should ask forgiveness. Not for a moment do I myself wish it, unless in any way it took away from him the sadness of the memory of what he did. I tell you, most distinctly, I do not think there is very much in the whole affair; that is, when the imperfections of earth and speech are taken away, I do not think that there will be very much to clear up between Mr. Ruskin and me. Till that time, touched as I am by your chivalrous kindness about it, I do seriously assure you I think a merciful silence is at once the best and the most dignified course, for him and me. What has the world to do with it, if we both feel silence all that is needed? There are things that nothing will ever put right in this world; and yet they don’t really touch what is right for all worlds.

I say this for your sake, that you may feel at peace about it all; else nothing would make me say anything. Be at peace about it. I am. I hope Mr. Ruskin is. He may be. The thing is past, let us bury it; that which the earth will not cover, which is not of it, lives in the Eternal Kingdom; and in the thought of it earthly imperfection or mistakes seem very small things.

14, Nottingham Place,
December 29th, 1889.

TO MARY HARRIS.

Thank you so very much for your loving letter. I was so very glad to have news of you. I can imagine what an interest the Home is with all its human work, now that books are more cut off from you than they were; and I like to think, too, that you will have many round you who love you and look to you.

I wonder what you thought of “Asolando.” I have hardly read it all yet. I fear it does not strike me, that it contains any poems on a level with his finest.

When I heard of Browning’s death, in the thought of his rejoining her, I could not help remembering every word of the Epilogue to Fifine, which is very beautiful.

I wish you could hear Mr. Alford’s sermons. No one, since Mr. Maurice, seems to me so abundantly well worth hearing.

I have taken charge of nine new blocks of buildings, within a stone’s throw of this house. We are buying some of the worst houses that remain in Blank Court. I am preparing to build in Southwark, besides all the old work. I have a grand band of workers; but one has much to do for and with them.

[Sidenote: WORK IN DEPTFORD AND SOUTHWARK]

14, Nottingham Place, W.
April 28th, 1889.

TO HER MOTHER.

Miranda and I concocted a letter to the owners of some dreadful buildings in Southwark, which Miss J. is ready to undertake, asking to have them put under her care. So we have sent that off; and it _may_ bear fruit now or later. Then we finished the accounts of Gable Cottages, and despatched report of same. They are now complete! Then I settled about the painting of Hereford Buildings. We had an evening’s work over Income Tax returns.... To-morrow I collect in Deptford; Miss Hogg is still away; also Mr. T. is sending his manager to talk over matters with me. Then I have to go right up near Paddington to a Com. of the Women’s University Settlement for Southwark. I hope much from the link with them, and the members interest me much. They are all very refined, highly cultivated (all, I fancy, have been at one of the Universities), and _very_ young. I feel quite a veteran among them; and they are so sweet and humble and keen to learn about the things out of their old line of experience. I much delight in thinking one may link their young life with the houses, and hall, and garden in Southwark.

It feels like home now Miranda is back again; and it is wonderful to see the atmosphere of love and peace and duty she spreads round her....

My horse-chestnut and one oak grow quite tall; and all my ferns are in little rolls waiting for a little more warmth and rain and time to uncurl; the children’s voices (but soft and as if far away) are singing hymns in the school; the birds are chirping, and a quiet sense of Sunday calm is over things.

December 4th, 1889.

TO MISS M. SHAEN.

We are busy as usual, and all goes with wonderful success—a sort of thorough, quiet, steady progress and life that often amazes me. The great stir of strikes and free dinners and huge gifts, the excitement of those who feel as if action now alone were beginning, and as if all had to be rearranged, replanted, as it were, before it would grow, touches us little; and in the steady friendship of old days, and slow but definite improvement of tangible things in a few places, work goes quietly forward as the years roll on. We are helped, no doubt, by the wave of right hearty sympathy and sincere sense of duty now pervading the educated classes, and largely helped; and from my heart I thank God for it. But for the crude theories, I can only hope that many of them will be exploded before they do real harm.

October 25th, 1889.

MIRANDA TO MARY HARRIS.