Story of My Life Part 24

"Yesterday I went to luncheon at Iffley with Miss Sydney Warburton, auth.o.r.ess of 'Letters to my Unknown Friends,' and sister of the Rector--a most remarkable and interesting person. She had been speaking of the study of life, when the door opened and a young lady entered. Miss Warburton had just time to whisper 'Watch her--_she_ is a study indeed.' It was Mrs. Eliot Warburton, uninteresting in her first aspect, but marvellously original and powerful in all she said."

"_Nov. 26._--I have been a long drive to Boarstall Tower, which is like an old Border castle, with a moat and bridge. It was defended during the Civil Wars by a Royalist lady, who, when starved out after some months' siege, made her escape by a subterranean pa.s.sage, carrying off everything with her. Afterwards it was always in the hands of the Aubreys, till, in the last century, Sir Edward Aubrey accidentally poisoned his only and idolised son there. The old nurse imagined that no one knew what had happened but herself, and she spent her whole life in trying to prevent Sir Edward from finding out what he had done, and succeeded so well, that it was years before he discovered it. At last, at a contested election, a man in the opposition called out, 'Who murdered his own son?' which led to inquiries, and when Sir Edward found out the truth, he died of the shock.

"Mrs. Eliot Warburton and her sister-in-law have just been to luncheon with me in college, and I am as much charmed with them as before."

"_Dec. 3._--I have been to spend Sunday at Iffley with the Warburtons."

I have inserted these notices of my first acquaintance with the Warburtons, because for some years after this they bore so large a share in all my interests and thoughts. Mrs. Eliot Warburton at that time chiefly lived at Oxford or Iffley with her two little boys. Her brother, Dr. Cradock, was Princ.i.p.al of Brazenose, and had married Miss Lister, the maid of honour, with whom I became very intimate, scarcely pa.s.sing a day without going to Dr. Cradock's house. Miss Warburton died not long afterwards, but Mrs. Eliot Warburton became one of my dearest friends, and not mine only, but that of my college circle; for she lived with us in singular, probably unique intimacy, as if she had been an undergraduate herself. Scarcely a morning pa.s.sed without her coming to our rooms, scarcely an afternoon without our walking with her or going with her on the river. It was a friendship of the very best kind, with a constant interchange of the best and highest thoughts, and her one object was to stimulate us onwards to the n.o.blest aims and ambitions, though I believe she overrated us, and was mistaken in her great desire that her two boys should grow up like Sheffield and me. We gave her a little dog, which she called "Sheffie" after him. We often went to a distant wood together, where we spent whole hours amongst the primroses and bluebells or wandered amongst "the warm green m.u.f.fled c.u.mnor hills,"

as Matthew Arnold calls them; in the evenings we frequently acted charades in Mrs. Cradock's house. Our intimacy was never broken while I stayed at Oxford. But I never saw my dear friend afterwards. In 1857 I heard with a shock of what it is strange that I had never for an instant antic.i.p.ated--her engagement to make a second marriage. She wrote to tell me of it herself, but I never heard from her again. She had other children, girls, and a few years afterwards she died. Her death was the first great sorrow I had ever felt from death out of my own family. Her memory will always be a possession to me. I often saw her husband afterwards in London, but as I had never seen him with her, it is difficult for me to a.s.sociate him with her in my mind.

JOURNAL.

"_Lime, Dec. 23, 1855._--I have found such a true observation in 'Heartsease'--'One must humble oneself in the dust and _crawl_ under the archway before one can enter the beautiful palace.' This is exactly what I feel now in waiting upon my mother. When sensible of being more attentive and lovingly careful than usual, I am, of course, conscious that I must be deficient at other times, and so that, while I fancy I do all that could be done, I frequently fall short. A greater effort is necessary to prevent my mind being even preoccupied when it is possible that she may want sympathy or interest, even though it may be in the very merest trifles.

"The dear mother says her great wish is that I should study--drink deep, as she calls it--in Latin and Greek, for the strengthening of my mind. It is quite in vain to try to convince her that college lectures only improve one for the worse, and that I might do myself and the world more good by devoting myself to English literature and diction, the one only thing in which it is ever possible that I might ever distinguish myself. Oh, how I wish I could become an author! I begin so now to thirst after distinction of some kind, and of that kind above all others: but I know my mind must receive quite a new tone first, and that my scattered fragments of sense would have to be called into an unanimous action to which they are quite unaccustomed.

"The Talmud says 'that there are four kinds of pupils--the sponge and the funnel, the strainer and the sieve; the sponge is he who spongeth up everything; and the funnel is he that taketh in at this ear and letteth out at that: the strainer is he that letteth go the wine and retaineth the dross; the sieve is he that letteth go the bran and retaineth the fine flour.' I think I have begun at least to _wish_ to belong to the last.

"It has been fearfully cold lately, and it has told sadly upon the mother and has aged her years in a week. But she is most sweet and gentle--smiling and trying to find amus.e.m.e.nt and interest even in her ailments, and with a loving smile and look for the least thing done for her."

Soon after this was written we went to London, and the rest of the winter was spent between the house of Mrs. Stanley, 6 Grosvenor Crescent, and that of my Uncle Penrhyn at Sheen. At Grosvenor Crescent I often had the opportunity of seeing people of more or less interest, for my Aunt Kitty was a capital talker, as well as a very wise and clever thinker. She had "le bon sens ? jet continu," as Victor Hugo said of Voltaire. She also understood the art of showing off others to the best advantage, and in society she never failed to practise it, which always made her popular; at home, except when Arthur was present, she kept all the conversation to herself, which was also for the best. Macaulay often dined with her, and talked to a degree which made those who heard him sympathise with Sydney Smith, who called him "that talking machine,"

talked of his "flumen sermonis," and declared that, when ill, he dreamt he was chained to a rock and being talked to death by Macaulay or Harriet Martineau. This year also I met Mrs. Stowe, whose book "Uncle Tom's Cabin" made at the time a more profound impression in England than any other book I ever remember. She was very entertaining in describing her Scotch visits. Inverary she had liked, but she declared with vehemence that she would "rather be smashed into triangles than go to Dunrobin again."

END OF VOL. I.

_Printed by_ BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.

_Edinburgh and London_

THE STORY OF MY LIFE

VOL. II

[Ill.u.s.tration: Maria Hare.

From a portrait by Canaveri]

THE STORY OF MY LIFE

BY

AUGUSTUS J. C. HARE

AUTHOR OF "MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE,"

"THE STORY OF TWO n.o.bLE LIVES,"

ETC. ETC.

VOLUME II

LONDON GEORGE ALLEN, 156, CHARING CROSS ROAD 1896 [_All rights reserved_]

_Printed by_ BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.

_At the Ballantyne Press_

CONTENTS

PAGE

OXFORD LIFE 1 FOREIGN LIFE 32 WORK IN SOUTHERN COUNTIES 130 WORK IN NORTHERN COUNTIES 259 HOME LIFE WITH THE MOTHER 367

LIST OF ILl.u.s.tRATIONS

VOL. II

MARIA HARE. _From G. Canevari._ (_Photogravure_) _Frontispiece_ PAGE DRAWING-ROOM, LIME 15 FROM THE DEAN'S GARDEN, CANTERBURY 24 LA MADONNA DEI. Sa.s.sO, LOCARNO 45 IN S. APOLLINARE NUOVO, RAVENNA 48 LORETO 51 MACERATA 53 CIVITA CASTELLANA 55 VALMONTONE 77 ROCCA JANULA, ABOVE SAN GERMANO 79 CAPRI 82 P?STUM 83 VALLOMBROSA 85 AUGUSTUS J. C. HARE. _From G. Canevari._ (_Photogravure_) _To face_ 96 PONTE ALLA MADDALENA, LUCCA 96 PIETRA SANTA 102 IL VALENTINO, TURIN 107 VILLAR, IN THE VAUDOIS 110 NOTRE DAME, PARIS 117 THE PONT NEUF, PARIS 124 PORT ROYAL 126 CATHERINE STANLEY. _From E. U. Eddis._ (_Photogravure_) _To face_ 132 CANON STANLEY'S HOUSE, OXFORD 136 HODNET CHURCH 159 GIBSIDE 181 OLD BEECHES, HURSTMONCEAUX PARK 227 THE ABELES, LIME 245 MENTONE 248 GRIMALDI 251 DOLCEACQUA 254 PEGLIONE 255 VENTIMIGLIA 257 AT DURHAM 262 ON ALLEN WATER, RIDLEY HALL 273 FORD CASTLE, THE TERRACE 281 VIEW FROM HOLMHURST. (_Full-page woodcut_) _To face_ 286 ENTRANCE TO HOLMHURST: "HUZ AND BUZ" 287 ALDERLEY CHURCH AND RECTORY 293 WARKWORTH, FROM THE COQUET 352 WINTON CASTLE 355 THE CHEVIOTS, FROM FORD 361 CARROZZA 371 ROMAN THEATRE, ARLES 378 H?TEL DU MAUROY, TROYES 379 THE KING OF BOHEMIA'S CROSS, CRECY 380 S. FLAVIANO, MONTEFIASCONE 386 OSTIA 391 THEATRE OF TUSCULUM 392 AMALFI 397 COURMAYEUR 410 ANNE F. M. L. HARE. _From G. Canevari._ (_Photogravure_) _To face_ 416 ARS 421 TOURS 465 AT ANGOUL?ME 467 PAU 471 B?THARRAM 481 BIARRITZ 489 THE PAS DE ROLAND 491 S. EMILION CATHEDRAL DOOR 494 AMBOISE 496

VII

OXFORD LIFE

"A few souls brought together as it were by chance, for a short friendship and mutual dependence in this little ship of earth, so soon to land her pa.s.sengers and break up the company for ever."--C.

KINSGLEY.

"To thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man."

--SHAKSPEARE, _Polonius to Laertes_.

"If you would escape vexation, reprove yourself liberally and others sparingly."--CONFUCIUS.

It was the third year of our Oxford life, and Milligan and I were now the "senior men" resident in college; we sat at one of the higher tables in hall, and occupied stalls in chapel. We generally attended lectures together, and many are the amusing tricks I recall which Milligan used to play--one especially, on a freshman named Dry--a pious youth in green spectacles, and with the general aspect of "Verdant Green." An undergraduate's gown is always adorned with two long strings behind; these strings of Dry, Milligan adroitly fastened to mine, and, inventing one excuse after another, for slipping round the room to open the door, shut a window, &c., he eventually had connected the whole lecture in one continuous chain; finally, he fastened himself to Dry _on the other side_; and then, with loud outcries of "Don't, Dry,--don't, Dry," pulled himself away, the result being that Dry and his chair were overturned, and that the whole lecture, one after another, came crashing on the top of him! Milligan would have got into a serious sc.r.a.pe on this occasion, but that he was equally popular with the tutors and his companions, so that every possible excuse was made for him, while I laughed in such convulsions at the absurdity of the scene, that I was eventually expelled from the lecture, and served as a scapegoat.