CHAPTER XIII.

GENERAL INTERESTS.

“Works are no more than animate faith and love.”

LONGFELLOW.

In spite of the heavy demands of her own special duties, Miss Buss found

time for much public work in which to use her large experience.

She always knew exactly what she was doing and what she intended to do.

In the expressive colloquialism, she was “all there,” and she was always

there. Whatever she knew she knew well, putting it in its own place,

ready for use. The half-knowledge, with its consequent mental vagueness,

that contents most of us was impossible to a mind so clear and strong.

And she knew her own limitations, never professing to go beyond. When we

remember how wonderfully vivid her imagination really was, we are

surprised that it could so be held in leash. In art she gave it free

play; and also in history—the story of human life which is the subject

of art—she could let herself go. We who knew her in Rome could never

question her power of imagination.

In Italy, she not only found but she used her wings. Elsewhere, her

imagination found fullest scope in glorifying common things; in seeing

through the commonplace, thus consecrating common duties, and calling

out the best and highest in common persons—possibly a form of genius

more rare than that which can turn out fine verse or fine pictures.

Here is a list of work which it overwhelms the average mortal merely to

contemplate. But wherever she found herself she worked, and nothing that

she undertook to do was left undone.

Miss Buss was a governor as well as founder of her own schools.

She was president and one of the founders of the

Head-mistresses’ Association.

She was on the council, and on three committees of the Teachers’

Guild, of which she was a founder.

She was _on the council_ of—

The Cheltenham Ladies’ College,

The Church Schools’ Company,

The Maria Grey Training College for Teachers,

The Cambridge Training College for Teachers,

The Royal Drawing College,

The Woman’s Branch of Swanley Horticultural College.

She was a _governor_ of—

University College, London,

Milton Mount College,

Aberdare Hall,

West Ham Girls’ School,

Grey Coat School, Westminster,

Sarah Bonnell School,

London School of Medicine, and was also on the

Committee of the National Health Society.

As well as an _associate_ of—

College for Working Women,

London Pupil Teachers’ Association,

University Association for Women Teachers,

Art for Schools Association, and of the

Somerville Club.

She was interested in—

The London Institution,

Governesses’ Benevolent Institution.

Foremost among later works must come the Teachers’ Guild, of which the

first origin is due to Miss Buss. Like most things undertaken for or by

women, it began on the strictly practical or economic side; though it

now embraces the highest ideals of educational possibilities. It is now

devoted to securing the best conditions on which the teacher can best

grow; but the first start had to deal with the question how the teacher

might live at all.

And as we found the germ of all the higher education for girls in the

“Report of the Governesses’ Benevolent Institution,” we find ourselves

going back to that Report for the origin of the Guild which aims at the

highest development of the teacher.

Governesses, as a class, come to poverty and dependence not from

extravagance or self-indulgence, but from sheer self-sacrifice, in

unselfish devotion to the claims of relatives, and to no class is thrift

more difficult. The effort to make it possible was from the first one of

the leading impulses of Miss Buss’ work. As early as 1866, a letter from

Dr. Hodgson shows that she had then discussed the subject with him—

... “You may remember the tenor of my remarks in Camden Street

on the ‘Reports of the Governesses’ Benevolent Institution.’

When I spoke of _saving for one’s self_, I wished merely to

give, for completeness’ sake, the other side of your phrase

‘saving _from our friends_.’ The duty and advantage of saving

are common to both sexes. Individual cases might be dealt with,

or judged, according to circumstances; but the general doctrine

must be preached without reserve.

“It would be much nearer my notion to say: ‘Earn sixpence a day

(if you cannot earn more), and save out of it a _penny_, or, if

that be not possible, then a _halfpenny_, or if that be not

possible, then a _farthing_. In any amount, however small, let

the claims of the future be recognized.... Let the general duty

and wisdom of saving be taught and recognized. Then let the

needful allowances be made in individual cases. It may be more

meritorious, because more difficult, for one person to save £5

than for another to save £500. Let each judge himself as he

would another.”

No subject was more constantly present to Miss Buss’ mind, but no

practical steps were taken till, on December 2, 1881, the Women’s

Education Union appointed a special committee to consider the question

of establishing a Teachers’ Provident Association, of which Miss Buss

was a member, with Mr. G. C. T. Bartley, Mr. Rowland Hamilton, and Mr.

Shaen; Mrs. Burbury acting as honorary secretary.

In 1882, a plan was submitted to the Head-mistresses’ Association, of

which Miss Buss thus writes to me—

“Our Provident Association is not yet started, but I do not

despair. A lady is at work getting up figures, and if all is

well in October, we shall go at it again. By ‘we’ I mean the

Association of Head-mistresses. We want a sensational article

for our Provident movement. Will you write it? I mean, we want

the fact of death in the workhouse, misery known to the Ladies’

Guild, etc., brought out.”

As member of one of the Relief Committees of the Working Ladies’ Guild—a

society founded by Lady Mary Feilding for the help of distressed

gentlewomen—I had heard much of the sufferings of governesses, and had

discussed with Miss Buss the best ways of giving relief. At her request,

I now wrote a paper on “Thrift for Teachers,” in which I suggested some

co-operation between the Ladies’ Guild and “_some possible Guild of

Teachers_.” This paper appeared in November, 1882, in Miss L. M.

Hubbard’s _Work and Leisure_, a magazine containing the germ of many now

important works. In August, 1881, Miss Hubbard had published a paper on

“Co-operation among Governesses,” which was followed, in December, by a

meeting to consider the scheme finally taking form as the “Women

Teachers’ Self-Help Society”; with a Provident Fund and Free Registry.

Miss Hubbard suggested printing off some copies of my paper, which Miss

Buss circulated among the School-mistresses’ and Head-mistresses’

Associations; but no immediate practical results followed, nor did

anything come of a consultation with Mr. Heller to consider amalgamation

with his Provident Association of Elementary Teachers.

It was not till December 1 that Miss Buss wrote—

“I think something might come of the notion of the ‘Guild.’ The

only thing is that it does not seem sufficiently definite and

practical.... We have secured the services of a very able woman,

Miss Beth Finlay, as lecturer on ‘Savings.’ She is ready to take

the matter up as soon as we shall have arrived at some

conclusion.”

On February 7, 1883, a small preliminary meeting was held in the Library

of the North London Collegiate School, of which Miss Buss writes on

January 26—

“I saw Miss Ward of the Training College on Wednesday, and find

that she is very anxious about a Provident Scheme. She also

thinks well of the Teachers’ Guild Movement. She suggests that

we should hold a very small meeting of a few earnest persons.

Will you be able to come, and suggest some names of those whom

you think we might ask?”

The ladies present at this meeting were Miss Buss, Miss Metcalfe, Miss

Agnes J. Ward, Miss Dunlop, Miss Hodge, Miss Rouquette, Miss Townsend,

the Misses Ridley. Some others were invited who were unable to be

present.

From the minutes taken on this occasion, I find that Miss Buss read a

report which had been presented to the Head-mistresses’ Association, and

discussion followed on each point of this report. It was finally agreed

that the Provident and the Aid Societies must be kept apart.

The name was changed to that of “Teachers’ Provident Guild.” A committee

was formed of the persons then present, and Miss Jenny Rundell was

proposed by Miss Ward as honorary secretary, with the address of the

Training College, then in Skinner Street.

On March 12, 1883, Miss Buss writes—

“At a committee meeting of the Head-mistresses’ Association held

last Thursday it was resolved to establish a Teachers’ Guild,

the objects of which were to be—

(1) To provide mutual help and sympathy.

(2) To maintain a high standard of moral and mental education.

(3) To encourage provision for sickness and old age, and to

found Homes of Rest and Associated Homes.

(4) To assist teachers in obtaining situations.”

This action was confirmed on March 16th, at a meeting of the

School-Mistresses’ Association, when Miss Agnes J. Ward read her paper

on the “Principles and Practice of Thrift among Teachers.” At this

meeting a sub-committee was formed to establish the Teachers’ Guild.

The Guild was definitely organized at the Conference of Head-mistresses,

held in June, 1883, at Croydon, when Miss Hadland, Head-mistress of

Milton Mount College, offered her services as honorary secretary, if the

purposes of the Guild might be widened by the omission of the word

“Provident.” Miss Hadland also secured the use of an office in the

Memorial Hall, Farringdon Street, lent by her friend the Rev. R. J.

Verrall. The clerical work was done at Milton Mount College, with the

assistance of the Rev. R. Guest.

A provisional committee met fortnightly, working out the constitution of

the Guild, till, on February 23, 1884, the inaugural meeting was held in

the rooms of the Society of Arts, with the Right Hon. A. J. Mundella in

the chair, and with an attendance of the leading educationalists, whose

interest had been excited in the new work.

At this meeting, Mr. Storr stated that he—

“thought it only right that the names should be given of the two

ladies to whom mainly this movement owes its initiative. One is

Miss Buss—not only the _doyenne_ of head-mistresses, but the

mother of us all—I mean of us ‘Brethren of the Guild.’ To Miss

Buss’ energy all the earlier results are due before the

accession of Miss Hadland as honorary secretary, of whom it may

be said that without her unwearied labours during these eight

months this meeting could not have been held.”

Miss Hadland resigned her post as honorary secretary to Mr. Jocelyn De

Morgan, who was appointed secretary, in the new rooms taken for the

Guild at 1, Adam Street, Adelphi. He was followed by Mr. Garrod, at 19,

Buckingham Street, and in the present office, 74, Gower Street.

With the appointment of Canon Percival as president of the Guild, Miss

Buss and Miss Hadland retired from public view, but for some time they

continued to exert a very strong influence. Miss Buss was especially

active in the appointment of the secretaries, making full inquiry before

proposing the candidate, as she had very high ideas of the

qualifications for this office. The value of the Guild in raising the

professional aspect of teaching soon became evident to her, and she

omitted nothing that could work to this end.

The same feeling for struggling teachers that led to the formation of

the Teachers’ Guild moved Miss Buss in the origination of the “Teachers’

Loan Society.” The idea itself seems to come from Miss Beale, who thus

refers to it in a letter to Miss Buss, dated November 26, 1882—

“I have not yet had time to give the loan system a fair trial,

but I have no doubt of its success.... I think there should be

such a society attached to every large school, and a small

number—say, a triumvirate—should administer the funds. We have

assisted five now.... I do hope something will be done to

establish some such system. It is so much better morally than

gifts and scholarships, as it makes the pupils think of their

responsibilities.”

Miss Buss enlisted Miss Ewart’s interest in the scheme, and a committee

was formed consisting at first of Miss Buss, Miss Ewart, Mrs.

Stair-Douglas, Mrs. Hertz, Mrs. Fitch, Mrs. Dockar-Drysdale, and myself.

Miss Ewart became honorary secretary, mainly supplying the _loan-fund_,

and to the present time has devoted herself to this work, proving

effectually that the “amateur” can be thoroughly business-like, and that

a very large amount of most useful work can be done in perfect silence,

known only to those who have reaped the benefit of it.

Every educational work seemed to enlist Miss Buss’ help, as we find

that, from 1865, she was a frequent visitor at the Working Women’s

College, founded by Miss Martin.

As early as 1869, Dr. Hodgson gauged Miss Buss’ powers, and determined

to use them in a sphere wider than her own work. He wrote to her as

follows—

“MY DEAR MISS BUSS,

“I have a great favour to ask from you, though it affects

your own sex more than it does me. I wish your consent to be

nominated on the Council of Preceptors. The meetings, as you

will observe from the card enclosed, are only eight in the year,

and all these need not be attended. But no lady has ever yet

been on the council, and some of us are determined to break

through the barrier of custom which obstructs the doorway left

open by the constitution of the council. You will have a large

and powerful support, and success is almost certain, even at the

first attempt.

“This will be a battle worth fighting. I have written to every

member of the council whom I have thought at all accessible to

reason, and _every_ answer is favourable. Now, I confidently

reckon on your _passive_ support. You are not required either to

labour, or to wait, at least beyond the 11th inst., when the

election will take place. Your consent is all that is needed,

and I am sure, for the sake of the principle involved, you will

not withhold it.”

“Dec. 16, 1869.

“You would see from the papers that you were elected on the

council. Though you come _after_ the three gentlemen on the

list, you came before them in the voting. You had fourteen

votes, each of them had only twelve.”

In 1871, apropos to a deputation from the College of Preceptors, Dr.

Hodgson again writes—

“MY DEAR MISS BUSS,

“I am very sorry that you are in such a chaos. I think it

extremely important that the claims of women to equality of

recognition in all education should be kept in view. They are

too apt to be forgotten by even those who are in principle

favourable, so inveterate is the _inequity_, _i.e._ iniquity, of

English practice in this respect. Your presence on the

deputation will be a valuable protest as regards both the

existence of the claims themselves and the fact of their being

recognized by educational bodies. The nail must be struck on the

head again, and again, and again. Wonderful has been the advance

already made, but the battle is very far from being already won.

“Yours ever truly,

“W. B. HODGSON.”

In 1873, Miss Buss sent me a letter from Mr. Christie, proposing to

elect her a Life-governor of University College, in which she adds—

“Could you write to Mr. Christie in such a way as to answer his

question about my ‘services to education’?

“I cannot well see my way to a fair estimate of my own work. At

all events, it is easier for some one else to estimate it for

me.”

Her own letter to Mr. Christie may be given—

“202, Camden Road, Dec. 5, 1873.

“DEAR MR. CHRISTIE,

“I fully see the principle you desire to assert by

proposing me as a Life-governor of University College, and I

shall be very grateful, not only for the honour conferred on me,

if I am elected, but also for the great impetus which would be

given to women’s education, by such a recognition. University

College has been, of late years, so liberal to women that I

trust the opposition to such a course as you propose would be

less than formerly.

“I send you a pamphlet containing a sketch of the origin of our

two schools, but as we have made much progress since it was

written, and it is difficult for me to put a fair estimate on my

own share of the success, I have asked one of our lady trustees

to give you an estimate. I am sure you will shortly hear from

her.

“With many thanks,

“Believe me,

“FRANCES M. BUSS.”

At the end of 1894, when Lord Reay “deplored the loss of many

distinguished members of the college,” Miss Buss’ name appears in a very

notable list, including Lord Bowen, Lord Hannen, Sir Henry Layard,

Professor Henry Morley, Sir J. R. Seeley, and Professor Romanes.

In early days, the pressure of her own work, and in later days, the

state of her health, often prevented Miss Buss from appearing in public.

Here are two out of many invitations declined with regret on this

account—

“Faversham, Sept. 24, 1871.

“DEAR MISS BUSS,

“I begged Miss Ridley to tell you that I had not ventured

to express our very great wish that you might be present at the

Education Conference at Norwich, but I take courage now to ask,

if it is impossible for you to go, whether you would send any

written message or statement referring to any point you most

wish to draw attention to yourself. Miss Beale has sent us a

most excellent paper, giving her views on School Organization in

the form of an account of her college and its work. We hope

there will be an earnest discussion of educational topics, and

if you would take part in it by writing, if not in person, you

would greatly enhance the value of the conference. I do not know

if Miss Ridley or Miss Gurney is going, but, _faute de mieux_, I

need not say how glad I should be to read any communication of

yours.

“I do not yet know on what day our conference is to be. It will

form part of the work of the Education Section of the congress.

“Ever truly yours,

“EMILY A. SHIRREFF.”

“Queen’s College, Oxford,

“July 7, 1893.

“MY DEAR MISS BUSS,

“I am desired by the committee appointed to carry out the

arrangements for the Conference on Secondary Education to

request you to be so kind as to prepare and read, or cause to be

read, the paper on Schools for Girls (Higher and Second Grade)

at the first session....

“My wife and I will be very much pleased if you will give us the

pleasure of entertaining you during such time as you may be in

Oxford during the conference.

“I am,

“Yours very truly,

“J. R. MAGRATH.”

Mrs. Bryant, who represented her on this occasion, speaks of the great

regret felt by Miss Buss in declining what would have been a crowning

pleasure in her life. She could, however, take a very real satisfaction

in the enjoyment of her substitute. Still more to be regretted was her

inability to take her place on the Second Royal Commission of Inquiry

into Secondary Education, a place filled, in consequence, by Mrs.

Bryant.

The last invitation for public work that she was able to accept was from

Mrs. Fawcett—

“_Royal Commission on Women’s Work._

“Education Sub-committee, 2, Gower Street,

“July 18, 1892.

“DEAR MISS BUSS,

“The Education Sub-committee met here on Thursday last,

and it was unanimously resolved to beg you to become a member of

it. We do not meet very often, and do not propose to meet now

till after the holidays. We would endeavour to suit the day and

time to your convenience, if you are good enough to consent to

join us.

“The present members of the committee are myself, Miss M.

Gurney, Miss Kingsley, Miss Louisa Stevenson, Miss Flora

Stevenson, Miss R. Davenport-Hill, and Miss Tod.

“Up to the present we have had only two meetings, and if you are

good enough to join us, I would send you up our minutes, that

you may see what our short history has been. We should all

greatly value your counsel and co-operation. If there are any

questions you would like to ask as to the work of the

sub-committee I shall be very pleased to come and see you at any

time convenient to yourself next Saturday.

“Yours very truly,

“M. G. FAWCETT.”

This sub-committee received from the Royal Commission £100 to send a

representative to report on American education, as shown at Chicago and

elsewhere, and appointed Miss Hughes of the Cambridge Training College

for Teachers. Five other ladies went with Gilchrist Scholarships for the

same sum, and eight with Scholarships from the City Companies of fifty

guineas each. Among the latter was Miss Sara A. Burstall, an old pupil

and present member of the staff of the North London Collegiate School

for Girls.

The work connected with this committee was very pleasant to Miss Buss,

and she was able to attend many of the meetings. She was also able to be

at the concluding reception, when Mrs. Fawcett and Miss Gurney

entertained those who had taken part in it. This was the last public

occasion on which Miss Buss was present, but Miss Gurney was struck with

her enjoyment and energy, in spite of her too-evident failure in health.

In medical education for women she was from the first full of interest,

as well as in the allied branch of trained nursing. There is some

animated correspondence with Mrs. Grey, in which the question of women

medical inspectors of the girls’ gymnasiums is discussed, Mrs. Grey not

seeing her way to it in the Company’s schools. But, as soon as it was

possible, Miss Buss had secured this supervision, of so much value in

the case of delicate girls. Miss Julia Cock, M.D., now holds the post at

first occupied by Mrs. Hoggan, M.D.

Mrs. Garrett-Anderson, M.D., was for several years a member of the

governing body of the North London Collegiate Schools for Girls, elected

as one of the representatives of the Brewers’ Company. She pays

affectionate tribute to the memory of a friend of many years, as she

says—

“There are very few people whose memory I would wish so much to

honour as I do Miss Buss’, and it is a real distress to me not

to be free to be present on Monday.

“It is difficult to say how much all who care for the uplifting

of women owe to her, both as a pioneer and in her splendid work

as a school-mistress. I hope and believe that her name will long

be cherished and honoured.”

Mrs. Thorne, also among medical pioneers, speaks strongly too—

“She has been such a good friend to women that all will feel her

loss, more particularly those who had the privilege of her

personal friendship. From time to time, in the course of the

past fifty years, I have been in occasional contact with her,

and, though so many had far greater claims upon her interest

than I, I always knew that I could turn to her as a good friend

if necessary. She was one of the _earliest_ supporters of the

medical education of women, and was one of the governors of the

London School of Medicine for Women.”

The question of the employment of women was one that touched Miss Buss

more closely than any other, since the needs of women was the very

mainspring of her efforts in education. Any opening that would attract

the girls not fitted for teaching was sure of her support. Here is a

note, dated March 11, 1875, of interest at the present date—

“A new department is about to be created in the Post-office. It

is to consist entirely of ladies by birth and education, who

will have to pass an examination in (1) handwriting and

orthography, (2) English, (3) arithmetic, and (4) geography.

Thirty ladies are to be nominated as quickly as possible, out of

whom _ten_ will be selected as first-class clerks, with a

beginning salary of £80 per annum.

“Would this be of the least use to your friend? If so, there is

no time to be lost.”

The placing of women on the School Board and on Boards of Guardians

enlisted most active co-operation from Miss Buss from the earliest days

of such movements. In her busiest times she could always arrange for a

drawing-room meeting, and much canvassing work was arranged at Myra

Lodge, on the occasion of the first School Board elections. Every one

who can remember those days will recall the excitement and enthusiasm

with which she greeted the arrival of the post-card with the

announcement—

Garrett 47,558

Huxley 13,494

The elections of Miss Davies, Miss Chessar, Miss Garrett, and Mrs.

Maitland on the School Board, and of Lady Lothian, Miss Andrews, and

Miss Lidgett on the St. Pancras Board of Guardians, were events that

made the “seventies” stirring times for women. And in this stir Miss

Buss came very much to the front. She never could make a speech in

public herself, but she was the cause of many speeches that were made

then and since then.

Like so many of the most thoughtful women-leaders, Miss Buss placed the

Suffrage Question in the forefront of things likely to help the position

and moral power of women. She saw no discrepancy between the possession

of a vote and the development of the domestic virtues; and she believed

that the possession of power would tend to make women worthy to use it,

in opposition to the other view that it may be well to educate them for

this use before giving it. We used often to argue this matter, as I

inclined to the latter view, though I could not be blind to the utter

absurdity of refusing to such women as Frances Mary Buss the power given

to the most illiterate or debased peasant.

In politics, Miss Buss was led by her heart, as most women will be to

the end of time, being the missing factor that will, in the good days

coming, redeem and raise political life from its present depths. This

woman was inevitably on the side of Progress and Reform, and being

herself too wise to even imagine unwisdom, might easily have been led

too far where her sympathies were touched; as, for example, on the Home

Rule question, into which she threw herself with all the ardour with

which in her youth she had followed the Anti-Slavery movement in

America, and, later in life, the War of Italian Unity.

Here is a little story told by one of her friends, which is very

characteristic—

“She liked us for being in favour of Home Rule for Ireland. One

night, at Myra Lodge, she sounded me on my political views. I

tried to evade her questions, and said I feared my views would

be unpalatable to her (she looked, to my thinking, like a Tory).

When, after much pressure, I said, to show how bad I was, ‘Well,

Miss Buss, if you must know, then I approve of Home Rule!’ she

skipped over the room like a girl of seventeen, to Mrs. Bryant,

and said, in delighted tones, ‘Mrs. Bryant, Mr. —— is a Home

Ruler!’ and brought her over to me. It was delightful to see her

pleasure!”

It was _not_ delightful to refuse her that pleasure by not responding

sufficiently to her enthusiasm, much as I, for one, would have liked to

do so. But it made no difference whether one quite said as she did, or

not; for she might have suggested those words of George Eliot’s: “That

seems to me very great and noble—the power of respecting a feeling one

does not share or understand.” In all discussions it was hers “gently to

hear, kindly to judge.” For real tolerance it would have been as

difficult to match her as in the strength and vigour with which she

maintained her own ground. That she was loyal to England if tender to

Ireland her words to her nephew show, when she says—

“Sept. 24, 1891.

“Are you coming with your choir to the Naval Exhibition? Naval

recruiting has gone up twenty per cent. since the opening of

this exhibition! I have paid a second visit, and am more than

ever proud and thankful to be an Englishwoman. We are, indeed—in

spite of our many sins—a great nation, the greatest on earth.”

Whilst firmly centred at home, her sympathies still widened out to all

the world. Miss E. A. Manning writes on this point—

“As illustrating the wide sympathies of Miss Buss outside her

effective and concentrated work, I am glad to have the

opportunity of referring to the friendly interest she showed in

regard to the visits to this country of students from India. To

such as desired to see the working of the North London

Collegiate School she gave warm welcome; and, whenever she was

able, she attended the _soirées_ of the National Indian

Association, entering with a most kindly spirit into their

object, that of promoting intercourse and mutual knowledge

between individuals of different races. Naturally the progress

of Indian women especially attracted her attention, and she

liked to take occasions of bringing it to the notice of her

pupils. In 1885 Miss Buss (with the permission of the governors

of the school) arranged for a meeting, in the Great Hall, of the

National Indian Association, where Mr. M. M. Bhownaggree,

C.I.E., read a comprehensive paper on the ‘Conditions and

Prospects of the Education of Indian Women,’ and we were

afterwards hospitably entertained by her in the gymnasium. At a

later date I gave an address at an ‘old pupils’ meeting’ upon

‘Home Life and Customs in India.’

“I may add that when Mr. Soubramanyam, of Madras, now a very

successful barrister, came to England, accompanied by his wife

(who was almost the first Indian lady to venture on such an

undertaking), Miss Buss made their acquaintance, and they have

always remembered her friendly attentions during their three

years’ stay here. The fact that many of her pupils had taken up

medical and educational work in India, and had temporarily

settled there, tended to strengthen her interest in the

conditions of life in that country; but I was constantly struck

by her full, free recognition of all efforts for good, even

though she had not time nor opportunity to enter into

the practical details of such efforts. Her sympathetic

encouragement, as well as her example, inspired many with

hopefulness and persistence.”

She was greatly interested in the Peace Society, and did much to promote

the formation of a woman’s auxiliary of that society, first suggested at

a meeting held on June 2, 1873, at the house of my father, when Mrs.

Julia Ward Howe, of Boston, spoke, with Professor J. R. Seeley in the

chair. My father had offered a prize of £5 for the best essay written by

Miss Buss’ pupils, and won by Miss Edith Kemp.

In the following year, Miss Buss was at home, on June 2, “to the friends

of the Woman’s Peace Movement,” and a paper was read by Miss Bennett,

“On the Best Way for Women to use their Influence to prevent War.” A

resolution was adopted to the effect that “the meeting forms itself into

a local committee in connection with (or in support of) the Peace

Society.”

In reference to this meeting, Miss Buss has written—

“We certainly should form ourselves into a branch committee, and

local, as Mrs. Southey (the honorary secretary) lives on the

other side of the water. If many were formed, we might have a

grand meeting of all the branches, once a year, at St. James’

Hall.

“I think it better to strengthen existing organizations than to

start new ones. I like your leaflet.”

The meetings of the branch went on for several years, and then, for want

of support, it came to an end.

Temperance was another subject in which she took increasing interest, as

it came more directly before her in the work of the Rev. Septimus Buss

and his energetic wife, so well known in Shoreditch. Miss Buss became

practically an abstainer, and the subject was brought before the old

pupils on more than one occasion. Miss Frances Willard received an

enthusiastic welcome at one of these meetings, and a note to her shows

the feeling of the head-mistress—

“Myra Lodge, Jan., 1893.

“DEAR MISS WILLARD,

“As one of the many Englishwomen who have long known and

admired your great work in the United States, I send you a

hearty greeting.

“I felt it a great privilege to be personally introduced to you,

and only regret that the necessity of rest during the holidays

has prevented me from attending some of the large meetings

called to do honour to you as a teacher and a leader in the

great cause of temperance.

“Believe me,

“Very faithfully yours,

“FRANCES M. BUSS.”

From the nature of her own work, Miss Buss was unable to take any active

part in the work of Mrs. Josephine Butler, Miss Ellice Hopkins and

others, for the promotion of a higher standard of morals; but her

sympathy was with every wise effort in this direction, and, in several

instances, when her head disapproved the means used, her heart went out

to the sufferer from rash but well-meant endeavours. I can recall the

intense feeling with which she told me of the direct action of the Queen

in relation to a well-known case of this kind. Of such sympathy Mrs.

Percy Bunting speaks warmly—

“How much she has done in her life, and with how true and loyal

a spirit! She has always been so high in tone, and courageous,

and generous-hearted, and warm in friendship. She has always

lived a noble life, and we women owe her in particular a debt of

gratitude. She has taken a broad view of what was needed, and

has used her influence all along the line, as it were, for the

welfare of women.

“And now she rests in God. Renewed and enlarged, she will in

some way realize what she hoped and prayed for here. I think her

example and influence have left a good harvest, as it is. As

women look back, they will always feel that she was one who

helped their cause in the days of its unpopularity. And she has

her reward.”

All workers among the poor know her helpfulness, and strong testimony

comes especially from the clergy of Holy Trinity. But the best must

always remain untold, as being associated with the deepest life of those

helped. In London, in the midst of her busy life, she could not give

much of personal effort or time to the very poor, though she could and

did give sympathy, as well as substantial help, without stint. But at

Boscombe she could use her leisure as she pleased, and Miss Edwards, who

during her long residence with her knew her life intimately, gives us a

little glimpse of her there—

“It is largely owing to the fact that Miss Buss lived up to what

she taught, morally and spiritually, that she has been such a

power in so many hundreds of lives. She was so generous and

kind-hearted, always ready to help others to help themselves. At

her country cottage she would regularly send, and occasionally

take with her own hands, relief in various forms to those who

needed it.”

A story of her consideration for her old cabman has already been given,

but a very recent sequel may be added, as showing how Downes’ own

feeling went on after his death to his successor, who recently took the

opportunity, in recognizing an old “Myra girl,” to lead up to a talk

about Miss Buss, ending by his saying, “They do say there’s as good fish

in the sea as ever came out of it, but we shall wait long enough for

another like _that_!”

Also, at the funeral, an old pupil, who could not get into the church

for the press, heard one of the crowd remark, “If all funerals were like

this, every one could not be buried!” To which a poor woman responded,

“If everybody was as good as that good woman, earth would be heaven, and

no one would need to be buried!”

In addition to all that she did accomplish Miss Buss had dreams that

failed of realization for want of time and strength. Here is one, of

which we often talked, though circumstances were too strong against our

action in the matter—

“When you and I can have a talk, I want to suggest to you the

beginning, on a small scale, of an orphanage, like Miss

Haddon’s. You and J. might adopt it? I should want you to let me

throw the force of our school into it, making clothes, helping

the outfits, finding places, etc. Surely, too, we could find

some volunteer teachers among the old pupils? We might always

notice it in our magazine, too, and so make friends for it. I

feel honestly that, at present, _I_ could not undertake the

responsibility, though I would help as much as I could.

“What say you? Do not set it aside without thought. You and your

parents do so much already that it would only be concentrating

your efforts. A little house and a good matron are wanted. I

think my dear cousin would take an interest in it, and let the

girls have some training, as servants, in my house.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK III.

LATER YEARS.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER I.

IN THE HOLIDAYS.

“The habit of viewing things cheerfully, and of thinking about

life hopefully, may be made to grow up in us, like any other

habit.”

Those who never saw Miss Buss in real holiday mood could not be said to

know her at all. As an educationalist she was instructive, admirable,

awe-inspiring; but as a friend and companion attractive, captivating,

lovable. She talked “education” where she thought her hearers were

interested, and this subject always interested herself. Also, she often

went on little educational missions of advice or instruction, and then

poured out of her full stores very freely. But such occasions were not

holidays. When she took holiday, she took it thoroughly, and those who

joined her holiday parties all speak of them as Miss Hickey speaks of

one which we enjoyed together—

“I had met Miss Buss before, but the first time I really knew

her was when we spent that Christmas at Clifton with her and you

and Mrs. Bryant and Miss Emma Elford and Mr. Frank Buss. And

since then I have even felt that no one could have truly known

her who had never been with her ‘out of school,’ and I have been

very glad to have then laid the foundation of a true friendship

with so great and noble a woman.

“Most people know of her remarkable power as an organizer; of

her intense interest in her work; of her high conscientiousness;

of her openness to new ideas, and readiness to give a fair test

to new methods; but few people are aware of the power she had of

throwing off the school-mistress, and of not only entering into

interests completely apart from educational ones, but of

entering into them with an unconsciousness of her position, and

an ignoring of what she had done.”

This stay at Clifton was memorable to me in my discovery of Miss Buss

_as a housekeeper_. She managed for all the party—indeed, I do not think

any one of us could possibly have ventured on arrangements or other

management while she was there to do it. Her readiness, skill, and

economy made a deep impression on us.

On another occasion, years later, she came as our guest to my sister and

myself at Torquay. Up to Christmas we had revelled in sunshine, driving

every day in an open carriage, and to this we invited her; also choosing

for her the room with the finest view. But she came for a week of fog,

such (so we were told) as Torquay had never before known. We had one or

two misty drives, and the view was rarely visible. But she took it as it

came with placid sweetness, working, reading, or talking, and was the

least exacting guest we had ever known. And, afterwards, she could only

recall the fact of complete restfulness, forgetting that there had been

a fog.

Here is a note by Miss Crane to the same effect—

“Twice we all joined her summer holiday—once at La Bourboule,

and another time at Schlangenbad. I remember how she used to

enter into the pleasure and fun of our little afternoon

teaparties, given alternately by her party and ours, each vying

with the other in making the most of our limited paraphernalia.

And how she enjoyed the German custom of taking meals _al

fresco_ on every possible occasion, in spite of gnats and other

buzzing insects! She was always quick to see and enter into fun,

taking pains to enlighten those whose perceptions were less

keen. Her hearty laugh filled one with joy.”

The same thing is given in greater detail by Miss Bird, who says—

“I had known Miss Buss for years, and always felt attracted to

her, but I never knew her in her unreserved moods until that

visit to Kissingen, in 1882. We were all up in the morning

betimes, and used to meet on the Parade to drink the waters.

There were some wonderful bread-stalls, with an astonishing

variety of fancy breads and innocent cakes, where we bought

bread for our breakfast, and also laid in a stock for afternoon

tea. We were a party of eight, and we used to take turns in

giving each other tea. When it came to Miss Buss’ turn to

entertain, she used to take pains to select her cakes, that we

all felt eclipsed. We called her ‘ostentatious,’ and ‘vulgar,’

and ‘low,’ and she rippled with merriment, and seemed to enjoy

being treated as an ordinary human being. She was taking ‘mud

baths’—that look as formidable and ugly as they sound—a sort of

peat mixture that is supposed to draw from the body all its

aches and pains. I had seen in a window the picture of a woman

emerging from her ‘mud,’ and when Miss Buss was fractious, and

made excuses for not joining in the light frivolities of the

place, I used to say, ‘Well, if you refuse, I will post that

picture to the College to be exhibited, and the pupils will then

see the degradation of Miss Buss!’ This threat acted like magic,

and, laughing heartily, she used to comply. She grew bright and

light-hearted, and contributed her full share of amusing

stories.”

Miss E. P. Hughes records another of these times of relaxation—

“I spent a Christmas holiday with her at Cannes. She knew that I

had travelled little at that time, and she stopped at Avignon,

Nîmes, and Arles, to show me some of the old Roman antiquities.

Her energy and intense interest in everything was simply

wonderful. I had chiefly seen the educational side of her life

before this, and it was a revelation to me that she knew so much

and cared so much for other things. I am a fairly good traveller

myself, and keen about seeing new places, but I confess myself

completely beaten over and over again. I do not think that many

people realize the enormous amount of work she got through, so

much of it being unknown except to a few.... She was always

ready to enjoy a laugh. I can see her now, sitting in the great

amphitheatre at Nîmes, enjoying my discomfiture when I

discovered that, through my ignorance of South French _patois_,

I had mistaken our guide’s description of a Sunday bull-fight

for a meeting of the Salvation Army! At Arles I was severely

bitten by the love of Roman antiquities, and while I was

expressing this, in very Celtic fashion, Miss Buss said she must

take me to Rome some day, and laughingly gave me permission to

be as mad as I liked.

“I am glad to remember how happy she was at Cannes, how keenly

she noticed all the beauties of nature, how warmly she enjoyed

our delight in what was new to us, how sweetly gracious she was

to acquaintances in the hotel. I learnt then for the first time

to know what a wonderful power of description she had, as she

told me about her visits to Italy, and much about modern Italian

history, describing several eventful scenes witnessed by

herself. I can see the pictures vividly now which she painted in

words. I remember being surprised at the extent of her reading,

and then realized that she herself was so humble that, until one

knew her well, one was apt to underrate her.”

Miss Buss’ intimates all fell into the habit of keeping for her

joke-book—a book from which she loved to read on any possible

occasion—any choice bit of wit or humour, to reap double pleasure in so

sharing it. She had that strong sense of the ridiculous which so often

goes with the keenly sensitive temperament, and which is so essential to

perfect balance of character. Without this quick perception of the

incongruous there must be a want of true perspective in life, with

failure in the right adjustment of the claims of self and of others.

Very great work can scarcely be done without this gift, since of all

others it most tends to complete sanity—to the sound mind, if not to the

sound body—without which no greatest work is ever done. The intense

temperament, lacking this guiding sense, is almost certain to show some

warp or twist fatal to the finest achievement.

To this most helpful power of turning from grave to gay Miss Buss

certainly owed much of her power of sustained work. At the end of a

term, she was able, as she so often said, “to lock all her worries up in

a drawer, and leave them there.” She then gave herself up to her holiday

with all her strength, enjoying with keen zest all new places and

persons, and returning from her travels rested and refreshed. It is true

that her notion of rest differed not a little from that of average

mortals, who sometimes felt it something of a strain to keep pace with

energy so inexhaustible. She would beguile a long railway journey with

some stiff reading—very much of her reading was done in railway

carriages—and, on reaching her destination, after a few hours’ sleep _en

route_, be quite fresh for a day’s sight-seeing, in which little was

left unseen that merited notice. She lived to the full in the present

moment, and thus made the most of life, having learnt to leave the past

behind her, and to wait in hope for the future.

Several members of the staff speak with the same interest of the holiday

parties, and of the value attached by Miss Buss to the complete change

of thought given by foreign travel, quoting her frequent saying: “Do not

run in one groove!” as she exhorted her young teachers “to save up for a

trip abroad.”[19] She planned and arranged parties in France, Germany,

and Italy, for her teachers and their friends, where they might take

language lessons part of their time, and for the rest, go on expeditions

for “thorough” sight-seeing. And here, Miss Elford adds—

Footnote 19:

Miss Hughes speaks to this point: “On two occasions I went with her to

see some famous Roman schools, as well as by her advice to Naples, to

see the wonderful school of Madame du Portugal. It was a great

pleasure to accompany her; she saw so much, cared so much, and

compared so admirably what she saw with other schools elsewhere, and

she was so careful to utilize what she saw and heard. She was always

anxious to help teachers to visit the schools of other countries, and

did much to stir in me a great interest in foreign education. I

believe she first started the idea of travelling scholarships for

teachers, and she felt great interest in the Gilchrist Scholarship

when it was founded.”

“Miss Buss was a delightful companion. I visited many places in

France, Switzerland, and Italy with her, and she knew the

history of every city and town. A stay of three weeks in the

Maderanerthal will never be forgotten, as she was able to enter

into all our expeditions.

“The young always—men or women—were attracted by her

vivaciousness of manner and her delightful talk, so that our

evenings in the hotel were bright and cheerful, though no one

knew who she was till after her departure.”

She always became quite naturally the centre of any circle. I remember

one day, when she and I were staying at Ben Rhydding, we were in a

corner of an almost deserted reading-room, and she began to talk in a

low tone about the book she was reading. It was not long before the

nearest reader laid down his book and came nearer, to find appreciative

listeners to his good stories of Ruskin—whose pupil he had been—and of

other notabilities, as he and Miss Buss exchanged many an anecdote and

_bon-mot_ then crisp and new, though since worn threadbare. There was no

more reading that morning, every one who came in being very willing to

join the laughing circle. Many interesting persons came and went during

our stay at Ben Rhydding, and it was curious to note how soon they found

her out, and how eagerly all gathered round to join in the talks which

she set going. She enjoyed it, too, as she writes of it to her sister—

“The crowds of people who know me in London wear me out, and I

confess that in the holidays I do not want to make acquaintance

recklessly. In a house like this there is no end to them, and I

have literally no more time to myself than I get at home. Still,

the experience is pleasant, and worth having, especially for

Frank. Some day you must share it with me. It is a comfort to be

without household cares, and a place like this gives one plenty

of opportunity of studying life.”

In summer she generally went abroad, and her letters give very graphic

accounts of her experiences. There is a very full description of Fécamp,

in particular, most interesting, if space would allow. And also many

peeps at German towns. Miss Crane tells how Miss Buss stopped on her way

from La Bourboule to collect all the facts to be found in Orleans, for

her lecture on Joan of Arc, afterwards given to girls; and Mrs. Offord,

in speaking of the lecture, shows how, at that remote date, Miss Buss

anticipated the present cult of the Maid, setting her in the place now

accorded by a repentant country.

The entire change of life abroad made it very pleasant to Miss Buss.

From Berlin she writes, in 1882—

“Our pleasant holiday is coming to an end! Like Sep, I seem to

revive when out of my own country. Yet I would not change

countries, if I could. Exchange climates? yes; but country? no,

no, a hundred times no! I like to be able to kill myself, if I

choose, by going across a road at my own will, instead of being

taken care of by watchful police and soldiers at every turn. It

is dreadful for a country to be over-governed, and that is the

case with all the German towns I have seen, so far. We got here

last night late; the Crown Prince and Princess were in our

carriage (Frank and I started with Sara Bernhardt on her

wedding-night!). At every point there are soldiers. The whole

place bristles with the detestable military spirit; horrible

war-pictures are on the walls of the galleries, and military

trophies are everywhere.... I fear Prussia will have to pay—like

France—largely for her ‘glory.’”

But a volume might be made from her letters in her frequent journeys at

home and abroad. She knew her native land well, but wrote less about it.

A few extracts may be given, especially of a visit to Charlotte Brontë’s

home, during our stay at Ben Rhydding.

Miss Buss had a very keen love of colour, and to her the total absence

of everything but dull drab in Haworth was specially depressing. Houses,

stone walls instead of hedges, flat tombstones so thick that no blade of

grass could grow between them, all of this same lifeless drab, give an

effect of singular desolation. The Parsonage, with its unbroken walls,

in which were set flat windows, and with its roof of slate, closely

adjoins the dreary churchyard. The only outlet for those passionate

young lives must have been in the blue of the sky and in the changing

tints of the expanse of moorland stretching into the far distance.

But it is of the church that Miss Buss has most to say in her notes of

the day—

“August 18, 1879.

“A party of seven started at eleven, in a waggonette, for

Haworth, a drive of eighteen miles through several villages and

the town of Keighley. Haworth (pronounced _Horth_) consists of

one long, straggling street, frightfully steep, so that one can

neither drive up nor down, but must walk.

“We went to the Black Bull for lunch, and then visited the

church and churchyard. Oh, what an abomination the church is! It

is very old, dating from a _very_ early period. It has only two

naves, and no chancel, nor transept, nor anything to break its

hideous straightness. Where the communion-table stands is a

window, small, and, on both sides, another window, very large.

High, worm-eaten, rotten pews, a deep gallery at one end, and on

one side, and broken or worm-eaten beams everywhere; narrow

seats, on which it is impossible to sit; no ventilation, the

whole place reeking with the accumulated foul air of centuries.

Such is Haworth Church!

“Charlotte Brontë died twenty-five years ago—in 1855. In her

time the organ stood over the communion-table, and over the

rectory-pew! It seems impossible, but this is a fact. The

successor to Mr. Brontë has moved the organ into the side

gallery, and has taken away the pew, to leave room for some

benches for the choir. In this church Grimshaw, Wesley, and

Whitfield preached.

“We, of course, saw Charlotte Brontë’s wedding-register. We

wandered round the parsonage, which has been enlarged since the

time of the Brontës; we walked behind the house on the moors,

and entered the school where she and her sisters taught.

“All the houses are built of stone, and look cold and grey.

Hundreds of English-speaking people visit the place yearly,

through the interest in the home of those remarkable women, the

Brontës, and yet the church is to be pulled down in three weeks’

time. It seems a pity that no one can be found to build a new

church, and let the old one be preserved that we and our

successors may see how and in what places our fathers

worshipped.... Poor Charlotte Brontë! After seeing the place,

one understands how infinitely sad life must have been in it.”

In striking contrast with this desolate scene was another experience,

when we spent a few very pleasant days in the last home of George Eliot,

at Witley, which had been taken by our friend Mr. Neate. Miss Buss

writes to her cousin—

“‘Daniel Deronda’ was written in her boudoir, now turned into a

spare bedroom, in which I slept. What a crowd of thoughts come

into one’s mind as one stands in that particular room. If walls

could speak!

“The grounds are 3½ acres, so they are extensive enough to

afford variety. The house stands on the top of a hill,

surrounded by trees and shrubs. The sun is glorifying

everything, and the distant landscape reminds me of one of the

lower valleys in Switzerland. There are hills on hills, low, of

course, in elevation, but making the view very diversified.

“Within a short distance lives Birket Foster, and nearer still

that charming water-colour painter, Mrs. Allingham.

“But my mind is full of George Eliot, her books, her life, her

struggles, aspirations——

“The carriage is here for a drive, so I have to conclude

abruptly.”

Here is a letter telling of one of her summer trips—the meeting alluded

to being that first important interview with the Endowed Schools

Commission—

“Harwich, Aug. 8, 1873.

“MY DEAR ALFRED AND LÉONIE,

“The sea is rolling in before my window; except for that

pleasant sound, nothing else can be heard! The sun is shining on

the opposite coast of the river Orwell, while on my right

stretches out the German Ocean.

“Having leisure before service, and again, as I hope, _after_

it, what better can I do with it than write a little

acknowledgment of your loving letters....

“I left home last Thursday, met Sep at Kelvedon, stayed there

till Saturday. The doctor, father, and I drove to Colchester,

thence to Manningtree and _here_, where we are planted for a

week. On Monday I go by train (the father and uncle drive up,

taking three days), attend the meeting on Tuesday, and on

Wednesday start for Dover, Ostend, and Brussels, where Sep

will meet us. Miss Jeanie Ridley travels with us. On Saturday

week Uncle Henry joins me in Brussels, and we go on to

Cologne, thence sleeping at Mayence, and going next morning to

Homburg, that I may, for the first and last time, see the

gambling-tables. They are to be closed this year. At

Heidelberg Miss J. Ridley leaves us, to remain with her

friends there, and we go on to Zurich, over the Splügen,

returning by Strasburg and Paris.

“This route will take us to Venice by way of the Brenner Pass,

between Munich and Verona.

“My dear love to you all. I hope our Charlie boy is having some

_riding_. A kiss to him and the girls from

“Your loving _sister_.”

At Heidelberg the party remained a few days, seeing something of the

country, through the kindness of my sister’s friends, who lived in an

old “schloss” outside the town. During this journey my sister first

became really acquainted with Miss Buss, who wrote afterwards to me—

“I learned to care a good deal for your ‘child,’ and soon—well,

not too soon—found out how much lay beneath that excessive

reserve. Her _flashes_ were very interesting to me, but my

uncle’s companionship made it impossible for us to fuse, as you

and I did in Edinburgh.”

In later years, a course of waters at a German _bad_ became a necessity,

and the letters give sketches of Spa, Ems, Kreuznach, Carlsbad, etc.,

which may be summed up, in brief, in extracts which also show the writer

in relation to her own people—

“Kissingen, Aug. 20, 1885.

“MEIN THEUERSTER, ALLERLIEBSTER FRANZ,

“Ich liebe dich noch und immer. It is difficult not to

drop into German; we have been in the midst of it so long, and

we take a German lesson so often at the little theatre. Besides,

it has such pretty expressions. The use of ‘thou’ to those with

whom you are very intimate is charming! It is a loss to have

dropped it in English.

“Father will be home on Saturday, I hear, and I hope he will go

off to the ‘liebe mütterchen’ at Ilfracombe....

“To-day, for the first time, we have rain. But we have been to

the Saliné, or salt springs, and are now going to the theatre.

Last night we went to a ‘diabolisch spiritisch’ performance by a

conjurer. The Duke of Cambridge sat very near us, so near that

we could hear nearly all he was saying.”

“Marienbad, Aug. 16, 1886.

“... At six a.m. a fine band strikes up a lovely

_chorale_, which wakes every one. Hundreds of people carrying

tumblers go out on the promenade, when the band plays, and walk

about. There is so great a crowd at the Kreuzbrunnen that they

form three lines, and walk slowly one after another till they

get to the tap, at which a girl is waiting to serve. Some, I

among them, go to a hot-water supply to mix with the icy mineral

water, and then walk for twenty minutes. After this interval, we

again get into line for a second glass, and have another walk.

By this time the band has performed five pieces, all good music

and well played, and has gone to the other end of the promenade,

where there is another stream, the _Ferdinand’s quelle_. I go

here for a third tumbler and another walk. I get nearly two

hours, and then, but only then, go back to breakfast, which all

heartily enjoy.

“I have a lovely room, on the first floor, beautifully

furnished, with two large windows looking out on the pine

forest. Every window in Marienbad has a large cushion, the size

of the sill, covered with white cotton. I find that these are to

put your elbows on to look out of the window.

“To-day has been beautiful beyond description, cool and clear,

with cloudless sky, and the loveliest gleams of light between

the pines.

“We leave here on the 31st, go to Munich for three days, and

stay to see the famous Gorge of Pfeffers, and then join Mrs.

Hodgson at Serneus, Prättigau, Switzerland.

“I write a card every day to mother or father. Please send this

on. It is a great pleasure to me to have a card, dearest laddie,

and to know what you are doing.”

“Marienbad, Aug. 20, 1886.

“MY VERY DEAR SEP AND MARIA,

“... I wish Sep could get a chaplaincy in some German spa,

that would be so good for him and me, and that you and Arthur

could join me in a visit to the same place. The only drawback is

the long, wearisome journey. But one is repaid for the fatigue

by the delightful air and the complete change of surroundings.

One can live cheaply too. Our breakfasts cost—coffee, tea, or

chocolate, one egg, and as many little rolls as one likes—about

9_d._; dinner, 1_s._ 6_d._ or 1_s._ 8_d._; and supper, 10_d._ or

1_s._ Afternoon tea we make in my room. I have the largest and

handsomest room in the house for 25_s._, including everything.

My room is the general sitting-room, and where we receive

visitors, of whom there are rather more than I care for. The

chaplain, Mr. Thomas, of Jesus, Oxford, and his sister, with

whom I stayed in June, are here, with a fair number of English

whom they know, and whom, consequently, I know. There are four

members of Parliament, Sir Algernon Borthwick, Mr. Campbell

Bannerman, Mr. Hoyle, a most delightful man, and Dr. Cameron,

M.P. for Glasgow.

“After breakfast I return, and write or rest, while the others

go to the hills and sit all the morning among the pines, and

sometimes dine at one of the forest places.

“I go to a hot mineral bath at eleven, and at one we dine. We

never know where we shall have our next meal, and very often

have little or no idea of what a particular dish we order may

turn out. So the life is so new and fresh, so delightful for a

time that no one can fail to enjoy it. The band plays, there is

a theatre, there are splendid concerts, two libraries, besides

endless walks and views in the woods. The air is scented by the

pines, and by the wonderful flowers. We could hardly be happier,

in the quiet way that becomes our age.... An Italian professor

said to one of our ladies, who was laughing, ‘Ah, I will tame

you, _you screw_!’ She said, ‘What?’ He answered, ‘Why, you do

not know your Shakspere!”...

“The Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh only stayed one or two

nights, and had to go to the second floor. To-day we saw the

Grand Duke and Duchess walking about: they are very tall and

thin. Their children’s nurse is resplendent! She made me quite

wild to have her dress for the next costume dance!”...

------------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER II.

ROME.

“Ecco Roma!”

The greatest delights from travel came to Miss Buss from the two

extremes of North and South—extremes which yet touch—Sweden and Italy,

the two most distinctively artistic lands. In the Venice of the North

she was at home, for she loved the people; and she was not less at home

in the Venice of the Adriatic, where she loved the place and the

associations. But the City of the Seven Hills was the home of her heart,

and, without knowing what she was in Rome, one could know only the half

of her possibilities. Her first visit to Rome in 1875 opened a new phase

of being, and gave her a way of escape from everyday worry. After this

first visit, she writes—

“The worries, correspondence, and work of re-opening are

immense, but I am well, and resolute!

“At Bologna, there is a marble medallion of Ugo Bassi, put up by

his fellow-citizens. I comfort myself, you see, by going back to

Italy.”

The visit to Sweden was something less of a holiday than those to Italy,

because it was full of educational experience. At that date, 1871,

Sweden stood in advance of any European country on the introduction of

the American system. Professor Siljiström, having been sent to America

to report on education, came home, wrote his book, and, having a free

hand, was able within three years to work a complete reformation. Miss

Buss took an introduction to him from Mrs. Garth Wilkinson, but he was

unfortunately not within reach. Through Miss Margaret Howitt, who had

recently spent a year with Frederika Bremer, she became acquainted with

the Baroness Adlersparre, one of the chief movers in educational

matters, and editress of a woman’s journal published at Stockholm, a

lady deeply interested in all that interested Miss Buss, through whom

the way was opened in Copenhagen for similar experiences.

Miss Buss intensely enjoyed her trip to Sweden and Denmark, and after

her return gave an account of her experiences in two lectures to her

girls, with clear summaries of history, and vivid descriptions of

scenery, manners, and customs. The peripatetic (“goande,” or “going,”)

meals amused her, and she tells how—

“there are no chairs round the dining-table, and no waiters.

Ladies as well as gentlemen help themselves, and the hostess has

little to do.”

She also describes, in Stockholm, the novel custom of _smörgös_, _i.e._

“eating a series of strange dishes as a relish before the dinner began.”

“On a small table, at the side, we found smoked reindeer flesh;

smoked salmon with poached eggs; fresh, raw, sliced salmon

(_gravlaks_); hard-boiled eggs; fried sausages; a kind of

anchovy; raw herrings, etc.; white and brown bread; brandy, etc.

The gentlemen drank one sort of spirit out of tiny glasses.

Everything was tastefully arranged on a snowy cloth.”

But in this trip her chief interest was in her educational

experiences—of which she took full notes—varied by pleasant social

gatherings, to which she and her father and her uncle, Dr. Buss, were

invited. In the only letter that can now be found relating to this tour

she expresses herself very warmly—

“Aug. 17, 1871.

“We have been enjoying ourselves I can tell you! One of my

introductions has led to an acquaintance with a Miss Hierta, a

_Högral borna_, or nobly born lady, who is clever, handsome,

rich, benevolent, and young. Her father is the oldest member of

what we should call the House of Commons, but it is called the

Lower Chamber. He is familiarly known as ‘Lars Hierta,’ the

representative of the Liberal party, the friend of education and

of women. He is a fine old man of seventy-four, tall, handsome,

and, I hear, witty in the House, and always listened to with

respect. He and his daughter have been here to-night to

‘soppor,’ a word which needs no translation.

“Through Miss Hierta I have been able to see nine of the great

schools here. All I can say is that Sweden sets us a noble

example. Education is practically compulsory, as no child can be

confirmed till he can read, write, and cypher, and he cannot get

employment without the certificate of confirmation. Of course

such compulsion would not do in our country; but still it is

something to be able to boast that no child can remain ignorant

of the ‘three R’s.’...

“I feel that we English, who are so much richer than these

Swedes, are yet in many respects far behind. Here the State

considers that it is a duty to provide education for all. And

all this has been done, in the last few years, mainly through

one man, Professor Siljiström, who was sent to America, and who,

on his return, was allowed to remodel the school system (of

which a full account is given).”

Nor was there less attraction on Miss Hierta’s side. In the following

year, she visited Miss Buss in London, and, written in 1873, I have a

letter speaking of her sorrow in the illness of “our dear Miss Buss,”

and she adds—

“I hope that she is recovered now; she is doing such a noble

work, and she has such a wonderful combination of greatness of

heart, of intelligence and energy, that a woman like this ought

to live eternally even here on earth, where she is so much

wanted. How I wish we had one like her here to establish a model

school for young girls.”

In Mary Howitt’s “Life” there is among her Roman experiences an

interesting account of a visit from “charming Anna Hierta, a beautiful

specimen of a Swedish woman.” She was one of the girls deeply influenced

by Frederika Bremer’s “Hertha,” the book that emancipated woman in

Sweden, and seemed to me to have in her all the splendid force of the

fair, strong women of the North.

The first visit Miss Buss made to Rome was in 1875–76, with her brother,

the Rev. Septimus Buss. Here on a post-card are her first impressions—

“51, Piazza de Spagna Roma,

“Dec. 26, 1875.

“We are having a delightful time; beyond all expression

enjoyable. To-morrow evening we visit Mr. and Mrs. Howitt, and

afterwards I will write to you. But we are out all day; have a

late dinner, and a crowded salon afterwards, so that I can find

no time for writing. We have had no rain, but the most

marvellous sunsets! Such as Turner only painted. This lovely

city realizes all my anticipations. In nothing have we been

disappointed.”

And later, this letter—

“51, Piazza de Spagna, Jan. 2, 1876.

“MY DEAR CARRY,

“Rome is perfectly lovely! No word can describe it, nor

the thrilling emotions which it causes. Think of the

overpowering sensations I felt yesterday in driving along the

Appian Way by the place where Horatius murdered his sister

because of her grief for her lover Curiatius, and then under the

magnificent arch of Drusus, through several miles of tombs. We

passed the church of ‘Domine, quo vadis,’ the place where St.

Peter, whose heart failed him, and who was fleeing from Rome,

met the Lord, and in utter surprise fell on his knees, saying,

‘Domine, quo vadis’ (Lord, whither goest Thou)? To which the

risen Saviour answered, ‘I go to Rome, to be again crucified,’

whereon St. Peter, regaining his courage, retraced his steps to

Rome, and suffered martyrdom. We then visited some ancient

columbaria, or tombs, containing ashes of the dead. Then we

entered a great catacomb! As I write, my whole body seems to

quiver at the remembrance. We walked about three quarters of a

mile through the galleries containing the burial places of many

a holy martyr, especially of the early bishops of Rome, most of

whom gave their lives for their faith. Nothing but coming here

will enable a person to understand this marvellous city!

“Always your loving,

“ARNIE.”

The year following Mrs. Septimus Buss was her companion, and she writes

to her brother—

“Roma, Dec. 31, 1877.

“DEAR OLD SEP,

“Don’t you talk about letters! We have written to you

every day but one, and that represents a good deal when you

remember Roman habits. _We_ are, however, always wanting news of

_you_.

“Rome is, I think, more delightful than ever. Why is it? The

weather is not so fine as you and I had it last year, though

magnificent compared with English climate.

“We hear all sorts of things. To-day I was told that, when some

cuttings for a new street near Cardinal Antonelli’s Villa were

being made, a skeleton, with a splendid crown on its head, was

found.

“Before 1870 there were no schools for the poor. Now all Italy

has public schools, free, attended by many thousands of

children.”

The next year she writes to her sister—

“Every place I go to is full of you. You and I are so fully in

sympathy in so many things—_here_ especially—that it seemed

almost as if our hearts beat in unison last year. My present

party is delightful; they are pleasant, cultivated girls, and

are very amiable. There has not even been a jar. But surely I am

not very difficult for them to get on with?”

“Not very difficult to get on with?” The answer to that question is

given clearly enough in a very few of the reminiscences of those happy

days—Miss Findon first—

“I went away with her several times in the holidays, and in 1878

had the great privilege of being with her in Rome. Mrs. Bryant

was also there, and our party was more than a pleasant one.

Every day for a month we went about with Miss Buss, and she

seemed never tired of showing us the places she knew so well,

and pouring out to us her own stores of knowledge in history and

art, which made everything of double interest to us.”

Then comes Miss Lawford—

“The time I, with some others, spent with Miss Buss in Rome will

ever remain a delightful memory. The many visits which she had

paid to Italy, together with her love of history, ancient and

modern, enabled us to get much out of our stay there in a

comparatively short time. We were in no danger of imagining we

knew the city, as she constantly impressed upon us that she was

merely introducing us to it! I can still hear her. ‘Ecco Roma!’

when we came within sight of the lights of the town on our

arrival there at night.”

Mrs. Bailey (Miss Emma Elford) writes at Christmas, 1894—

“This time of year always carries me back to the happy month I

had the privilege of spending with her in Rome. How delightful

it was to know her in her private life, and how she entered into

all one’s little joys and sorrows. I shall never forget that

delightful Christmas holiday; each day now, as it passes, I

almost know where we were, though it is so long ago as 1877.

Dear Miss Buss! how good she was ever to me; never forgetting me

in anything that was going on.”

Miss Marian Elford echoes the same strain—

“But to be in Rome with her was the climax of all delights. She

literally knew the history of every corner of it, both ancient

and modern. She was a good linguist, being able to converse in

Italian, German, and French. Not one word of ‘school’ passed

between us from the time we left Holborn until we were back in

our own places, for she had the happy faculty of leaving work

with all its worries behind.”

In 1880, her party included my sister and Miss Fawcett, who give still

the same report. Of a visit to Ostia, on this occasion, Miss Buss writes

fully—

“January 11, 1880.

“We had a delightful day at Ostia. We went in a sort of

waggonette with a cover as roof, the sides open, four horses and

two men. Our start was made about a quarter after eight. You

know the road? Through the gate of St. Paolo by the great

Basilica, and then a turn to the right (to the left is the road

to the Tre Fontane) took us across ‘the dumb Campagna sea’ for

miles. The whole distance is sixteen miles. We stopped on the

way to look at the magnificent stone-pine forest at

Castel-Fusano, a little house belonging to the Chigi family.

Then we returned to the grand old Castle of Ostia, and, laying

down our rugs, encamped for dinner (or lunch) on the roadside.

We had cold fowl, bread, butter, cake, cheese, wine, and

oranges. With our etnas, we also made some cocoa. Fancy a

perfectly delightful picnic on the 7th of January!

“Then we walked along the street of tombs under excavated Ostia.

To any one who has not seen Pompeii, it would give a good notion

of it. Some very fine statues have been dug up and put in the

Lateran. The excavations are going on slowly for want of money.

A fine temple has been cleared, facing the chief road from this

post. Ostia must have been as magnificent as the Via Appia, in

the days of St. Paul. You remember that lovely bust of the young

Augustus which was dug up in Ostia?”

An interval followed after this till, in 1885, she took her nephew Frank

and a college friend of his. Of this visit we have a full account by

Miss Blatherwick, which lets us into the secret of the comprehensive

knowledge of Rome which all recognized in Miss Buss—

“She had travelled all night, and arrived about 7 in the

morning. I quite expected she would have had her breakfast

sent up to her, and would have taken a few hours’ rest first;

but no! _she_ had seen Rome several times before, but the two

gentlemen had not; and as she could only stay three weeks,

there was no time to be lost. At 9 o’clock she appeared at the

breakfast-table, looking ‘as fresh as a daisy,’ and just as

though she had been there a week. Directly after breakfast she

said to me, ‘You will join us in everything, will you not? We

four will just fill a carriage.’ I assented only too gladly,

and that morning began one of the happiest times I have ever

had. Miss Buss brought with her double or treble the number of

books about Rome that most people would care to take with them

on so long a journey, and generally she put two or three of

them into the carriage, and could turn to any passage she

wanted to read aloud, although her own knowledge was such that

she was herself a ‘walking guide to Rome.’ Her days there were

passed much as follows: after breakfast at 9, she went to her

room for a little reading; at 10.30 we drove out to see and

study something in the Eternal City; then home to lunch, and,

after a brief rest, went out again on the same errand. At 4.30

we assembled in her room for afternoon tea, which she and I

had agreed to provide between us. We each boiled some water

over our little travelling spirit-lamps; she had brought with

her table-napkins and a dainty little tea-set; and then—all

being prepared—we gathered round the table, and had a

delightful half-hour. One day Miss Buss said to me, ‘Madame T.

(our hostess) does not at all approve of these afternoon teas;

I think we had better invite her to ours to-morrow.’ This was

done, and the following day Miss Buss remarked, ‘Madame T.

said she did not like afternoon teas, but I think she enjoyed

hers very much yesterday.’ Tea over, the gentlemen disappeared

to prepare for the late dinner, and Miss Buss quickly changed

her dress, and at 5.30 punctually she and they met in an

unused back drawing-room, and took an hour’s Italian

conversational lesson. This daily lesson ended when the

dinner-bell rang at 6.30, and afterwards we went up to the

drawing-rooms, where all the visitors generally gathered

together, and games at cards, chess, draughts, etc., were

played. She always joined in some of them and in the

conversation till 10 p.m. Once or twice there was an excursion

for the day into the country, and one evening we went out to

view the Colosseum by moonlight. And this was her holiday!

“I noticed that during this time, Miss Buss never once spoke of

her college, the teachers, or anything connected with business,

thus showing how wisely she could put care entirely aside for a

time, and give herself up to relaxation.”

Miss Buss always went to the _Pension Tellenbach_, which, in her time,

was quite a noted centre for the English in Rome, the visitors’ book at

the old house in the Piazza di Spagna including the names of Dean

Stanley and Lady Augusta, Dean Plumptre, Mr. E. A. Freeman, and, on one

occasion, Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone. Madame Tellenbach was a German lady

whose social position and knowledge of Rome gave her the power to make

things very pleasant for her guests, and she was proud of the results of

her skill and energy, a pride into which Miss Buss could enter with a

real sympathy. On her death, Madame Tellenbach left her whole

establishment to her brother-in-law, on condition that it should be

still carried on, not being able to bear that the work of years should

fall to pieces, and not perceiving that her bequest might be very much

of a white elephant. But, though not in need of it, Colonel Tellenbach

was not disposed to reject a valuable property, so he and his charming

wife established themselves in one suite of apartments, and consoled

themselves for the sufferings entailed in the management by giving

_soirées musicales_ and _dansantes_ to their guests.

That I should go to Rome with Miss Buss had been our dream for years,

during which my home claims had never made it possible. At last, in

1889–90, my sister and I met her at the Pension Tellenbach, arriving

there two days before her. The advent of so scholastic a party would

have carried consternation into any British hotel or boarding-house.

There was Miss Buss herself, with all her weight of honours; there was a

governor of her schools and the honorary secretary of her centre for the

Cambridge Local Examination; there was the head of the Cambridge

Training College for Teachers; there were two B.A.’s, head-mistresses,

and two Kindergarten head-mistresses, A.C.P. (Associates of the College

of Preceptors). Even the girl of the party was a Girton graduate.

Fortunately, our kind German and Italian friends had not yet learnt

their alphabet in this new style, and, in their happy ignorance, were

conscious only of the bright wave of fun and frolic, of clever and wise

talk, that filled the place with ripple and sparkle during the next

three weeks. After the day’s excursions, amusing charades were acted by

the English, with artistic _tableaux vivants_ in return by the Germans.

The B.A.’s gave a college party in their rooms, which were _en suite_,

and were charmingly decorated for the occasion, where games were played

and nonsense talked, to the despair of Colonel Tellenbach and other

gentlemen, who were none of them invited, not even the Bishop himself,

who was head of the English table. And when they had all gone, sad was

the blank. My sister and I stayed on, and, very often, in the evenings,

did Colonel Tellenbach come beside us to sigh over the loss of _ces

charmantes dames anglaises_!

We had, of course, determined that our first sight of the Colosseum

should be by moonlight, so, that, on the first brilliant night when all

could go, we started—fourteen ladies in a procession of five of the nice

little Roman victorias. None of the gentlemen were free to act as

protectors, so we made up in quantity for lack of quality. It must be

confessed that some of us could have entered sympathetically into the

feelings of the rank-and-file of a forlorn hope. Malaria and brigands

seemed to us to lurk in every deep dark corner of the vast ruin, and we

did not know what might be the perils of the way thither. But our leader

had our confidence, and we followed, to find the streets of Rome as

quiet as those of an English village, and in the ruins nothing more than

groups of tourists of all nations.

Still, our experience made us fully appreciate a story which was going

the round at the time. A solitary Englishman, wandering in the ruins,

was roused to suspicion by the number of times he came across the same

burly, brown-frocked, cowled monk, who finally jostled against him,

turning suspicion into certainty. The Englishman felt at once for his

watch. It was not there! He strode after the monk, overmatching him in

height if not in breadth, and, seizing him by the throat, demanded his

watch. A colloquy, unintelligible on either side, ended in the monk

giving up the watch; and, with a parting shake that sent him sprawling,

the irate Englishman stalked off to tell his wife the tale. “But your

watch is on the dressing-table!” she said, in alarm. He pulled out the

watch in his pocket. _It was not his own._ A veil falls over the scene.

But the early express next morning took away two passengers who were not

likely soon to re-visit the Eternal City.

Nothing marred our own complete enjoyment of the scene as we sat for

some time in the moonlight, opposite the imperial seat, trying to bring

back the past, to see the cruel Roman crowd, to picture the stately

Vestals with their power of life and death. And most clearly of all we

seemed to see the Monk Telemachus as he sprang into the arena, the last

human sacrifice to Roman lust of blood.

Miss Findon tells of similar experience—

“Once, as we sat in the Colosseum, Miss Buss read us Byron’s

lines and also Dickens’ words about it. I remember the tones of

her voice now as she ended:—‘God be thanked—a ruin!’ And then

paused while we tried to carry our minds back to that old time

when under that same blue sky, this ruin had been the scene of

those terrible fights of men and beasts, and the Roman ladies

looked on. How different from the tender heart of her who was

sitting in our midst!”

Long before the story of Italian patriots was generally known, Miss Buss

had made it her own, and she loved to tell it; as she had told us on the

afternoon of Christmas Day that year. I find a note dated 1877, in which

she mentions a talk with Old Pupils—

“I told them about ‘new Italy,’ and read from Mrs. Browning, and

Mrs. Hamilton King’s ‘Disciples’ and ‘Aspromonte.’ Do you know

Mr. Browning’s ‘Court of the King,’ a small poem?”

In a letter to her nephew, we find her feeling on this side of Italian

history—

“Rome, January, 1884.

“I hope you sympathize with the progress of humanity, dearest

lad, and with the regeneration of a nation! My heart thrills

when I think of how much men have suffered to make beautiful

Italy a geographical _fact_, instead of a mere name. Only last

year a young Triestine, named Overdank, was hanged by the

Austrians because he with others wanted to annex Trieste to

Italy. Many people think the whole eastern side of the Adriatic

ought to belong to Italy. Of course this was rebellion on the

part of Overdank. According to law, no doubt, he suffered. But

the horror is that the executioners are said to have sent the

bill for the cost of the execution to the heart-broken mother!

She had to pay them, but has since died—happily for her.... And

those are _Christians_, and have _mothers_!

“Italy has a grand past. May she have as grand a future! In the

blood of the thousands of martyrs for the liberty and unity of

their country is the hope of future generations. Our country’s

history seems but of yesterday, when one is in Rome, surrounded

by memorials of the old Roman Empire. Have I told you of the

discovery of the house of Numa Pompilius, just excavated in the

Forum, close to the arch of Titus, under the old gate of the

Palatine? It must have been used by the Pontifex Maximus all

through Roman history to the time of Augustus, who chose to live

on the Palatine, and fulfilled the conditions by making his

house on the Palatine state property. When he left the house in

the Forum, the Vestals were placed in it, and the discoveries

show that these ladies lived in almost regal splendour in this

house, and their statues, broken—in some cases wilfully—and

defaced, are being dug up daily. When we came, one only had been

found. Now there are from twelve to sixteen at least. On these

statues is recorded the _name_ of the Vestal. On one the name is

erased. Did she lapse, or did she become a Christian?

“In December last, a jar containing 864 Anglo-Saxon coins,

dating from 901 to 946 A.D. (I think) was found. How did these

coins come there? Surely they were brought by the Anglo-Saxon

pilgrims mentioned by Bede. Can you begin to understand the

extraordinary fascination of such a place?...

“I am constantly in a state of thrilling emotion arising from

the associations, and one thing overpowers another. One was

quite speechless at the sight of the ancient inscriptions from

the tombs of the early Christians. It was a thrilling thing to

see a man like the Pope, whose office is so ancient and so

sacred, even to those Christians who do not agree with him.

“It was really awe-striking to stand in rooms used by Augustus,

by Livia and by Drusus; in the case of the latter the frescoes

are as fresh as if done a few months since....

“I wonder if I shall ever have the delight of introducing you to

the world of wonders concentrated in Rome?”

My own memories of her in Rome are curiously comprehensive of the whole

range of interest in the Eternal City: heathen, Christian, mediæval,

artistic, patriotic; in each and all of which she was equally at home.

On our first Sunday afternoon we had gone to the Palatine, first pausing

to try to imagine the splendour of Nero’s Golden House, before we went

on to stand at the bar where St. Paul must have stood before the Cæsar

to whom he had made appeal. A portion of the marble rail stands now as

it stood then, and there we tried to picture that memorable scene. Miss

Buss described to us how the heathen Court of Justice had become the

Christian Church, and so vivid was the whole impression that to this

moment I can still see the graceful careless emperor, in the centre of

the semicircle of fawning, sneering courtiers, all making merry at the

claim to Roman citizenship of this mean Jew; with some pride too, no

doubt, at the far sweep of the Roman power to which her most distant

subject could appeal and not in vain.

As we stood there, lost in the past, there came a sudden clash and clang

of all the church bells in Rome—once there had been one for each day in

the year—and all the blue air was full of sound. Here was the echo,

still clear and strong, of the message of the despised Christian, while

of Nero’s Golden House there is not a single trace.

Again, we are standing on the terrace in front of St. Gregorio, and seem

to watch the descending figure of the monk Augustine—our Saint of

Canterbury—as he had just received the blessing of the Great Gregory,

and was departing on his mission to those fair-haired Angles who are so

like—and so unlike—the angels. Then we turn into the refectory, where,

day by day, the saint entertained his twelve poor pilgrims, and we hear

how to his large charity was given the grace of entertaining angels

_not_ “unawares,” since, on the face of one of his guests whose special

need had called out special service, the faithful servant saw a light

which showed him that the Master of the Feast Himself was there in very

truth:—

“Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,

Himself, his hungry neighbour, and _Me_.”

On another day we had gone to see the Moses of Michael Angelo—earth’s

most lasting symbol of the imperishable Divine Law—and, as we came out

of the church, we paused to look at the picture made by the convent with

the tall palm-tree against the Frangipani Tower, and heard how in time

of famine the Frangipani—the “bread-breakers”—earned their noble name,

as true _lords_ (hláford, or “_loaf-ward_”) in sharp contrast to the

Borgias—the spoilers of the poor—whose palace still stands to the right

of the steps down which we passed, going through the archway, that we

might look up to the balcony where the beautiful Lucrezia must often

have stood, to cool her throbbing brow, under the quiet stars so high

above all futile ambition and fleeting passion.

And yet another well-remembered walk, from the Piazza di Spagna, past

the studio of Canova, to the Via di Ripetta, to look for the bust that

marks the house of Angelo Brunetti—

“The tribune of the people, who could stay

A tumult by the lifting of his hand,

And by the lifting of his voice could bring

An array round him”—

by his mother named Ciceruacchio, “Fair and strong.”

“And still the name grew with him as he grew

To stature stateliest, and strongest arm,

And fairest face of all the City.”

And we talked of the great deeds of that fateful year as we followed the

street which is now called by the name of him.

“Who with deep eyes, silent and resolute,

Rode slowly up the steep of golden sand

To San Pietro in Montorio.”

Then, standing by the grave which tells of the gratitude of _Italia

Una_, we pictured the triumphant procession up that same Via Garibaldi,

as the ashes of the patriots who had died for Italy were brought from

far and wide to rest in the Rome they had loved so well.

My Roman Journal closes with a comment on Miss Buss’ most able guidance,

and the conclusion—

“To be with her in Rome is something to be remembered. She is

always an inspiration, with her splendid vitality and energy;

but here, with her enthusiasm and her complete familiarity with

every association, she is wonderful indeed—a living flame of

fire.”

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CHAPTER III.

SOCIAL LIFE.

“And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love,

obedience, troops of friends.”

When we think of the vivid impressions of men and things that we might

have had from one who enjoyed such varied experience, we cannot but

regret that the press and hurry of her life made a diary an

impossibility for Miss Buss.

In the early years of her work she succeeded in filling some small

volumes, but when they were sought after her death, nothing remained but

a few pages with notes of the childhood of her nephews and nieces.

From the fairly continuous record in her Journal-letters from 1870–79,

and from Miss Fawcett’s Diary during her residence at Myra (1868–88), as

well as from the letters to the Rev. Francis F. Buss (1884–88),

sufficient indications may be gathered to show us what we have lost.

From Miss Fawcett we get glimpses of the variety and breadth of

interests shared by Miss Buss with the inmates of her house. Lectures on

every topic from the best lecturers, concerts, _soirées_, dances,

charades and _tableaux vivants_, excursions and picnics to interesting

places, interviews with celebrated persons, all go to make the reader

imagine what the interest of a full record might have been. Life

certainly must have been very far from dull in those days, however full

of work it may have been. And this was still more true of the last ten

years, to which we have so little clue, when she went out even more

among the leaders of the educational movement.

Here are a few notes that we should like expanded—

“Miss Buss went to lunch at the Deanery, and afterwards had a

quiet drive with Lady Augusta Stanley.”

“On Jubilee Day Miss Buss was invited to the Abbey by Dean

Bradley, and was seated next to Professor Max Müller. At night

she told us all about the ceremony. She had been intensely

interested in the greetings between the Queen and the Royal

Family, an emotional scene that went to her heart.”

“Miss Buss had an interview with the Crown Princess (the Empress

Frederick), and talked of education.”

“Miss Buss has been to the Prize-giving at the Richmond School.

She had a chat with the Princess Mary of Teck.”

On another of these occasions she was photographed, sitting beside the

Duchess of Albany.

Mrs. Hill notes a characteristic point—

“She was never satisfied to enjoy anything by herself, and

living at Myra, as I did, I have been with her at different

times to all kinds of things, the Indian Soirées, the Bishop of

London’s garden-parties, the Royal Society’s Ladies’ Evenings,

and big soirées at West End houses in the season. In the same

spirit, if she had bouquets on Prize Day, etc., she would send

them in old days to Mrs. Laing, and, later on, to people who

would care to have them. If she had a carriage to make calls,

she would take some one for the drive.”

Then from her letters to her nephew at Cambridge—

“April 16, 1884.

“On Friday I lunched at St. Mark’s Vicarage, Surbiton, with

Archdeacon Burney, lineal descendant of the famous musical Dr.

Burney, friend of Johnson, Burke, Garrick, etc., and father of

Frances, author of ‘Evelina,’ and ‘Diary of Madame D’Arblay,’

the fashionable authoress of the day, on whom Macaulay

afterwards conferred immortality in his essay. Do you know her

diary? It is so minute that as one reads it one is transported

into another age, and moves among the great men and women of the

18th century. I can never forget the delight with which I read

it, in my twentieth year, just as it was published.

“Archdeacon Burney’s walls are covered with family portraits,

heirlooms, Sir Joshua’s well-known Dr. Burney, and Garrick;

Gainsborough’s portrait of Paul Sanday and his lady-love; of Dr.

Johnson, from the Thrale collection; of Madame D’Arblay (Fanny

Burney), and the next generation of Burneys by Romney and

Laurence.

“And there are some lovely Turners, and also a fine collection

of autographs.... The visit was very interesting.... And then

there is an invalid daughter, with a most lovely face and

spiritual expression. She can only be moved from her couch to

bed and back, and yet is full of brightness and good works.

“There has been a discussion lately as to the author of the

lines ‘To love her was a liberal education,’ either by Steele or

Congreve. Well, to see the invalid Miss Burney is a Christian

education! How wonderful it is! Our heavenly Father seems to

lift some weak ones of earth into a supernatural strength that

makes them more powerful from their sick couch than the strong

and healthy.”

“Feb. 21, 1885.

“I was in Cambridge yesterday ... it is not nearly so dear to me

as when I had a beloved boy there! But still it is always

delightful. Girton has been very gay—a ball, some theatricals

(the ‘Ladies’ Battle’), and last night the inter-collegiate

debate on Hero-worship; seventy Newnham girls were going to

Girton, to lead in favour. Girton was to oppose by pointing out

how it injured worshipped and worshipper.

“I spent the morning at Newnham, called at King’s, to see Mr. C.

Ashbee’s new rooms; lunched at Girton, and had afternoon tea

there, and went to ‘Potts,’ to see Willie B. He asked O. Ashbee

to meet me.”

“Feb. 15, 1885.

“On Friday I went to a meeting at the Mansion House about the

Parkes Museum, and then to the Vicarage. Mother, who was

expecting Prof. Stuart, M.P., made me stay and dine with them.

He is very bright, and I liked him. Besides, he is a Cambridge

man, and that is a passport to me. He told us some stories of

exam. mistakes, etc.”

“Feb., 1885.

“I have been out twice this week, once to Mrs. Dacre Craven’s

(_née_ Florence Lees), wife of the Rector of St. George’s,

Bloomsbury. There were many interesting things to be seen, among

others a series of photographs of Mecca, also of Medina. They

must have been done by a Mahommedan, as it is death to a

Christian to enter these sacred places.

“Another evening I went to the Countess D’Avigdor’s. She is a

most beautiful old lady. The ladies were flashing with diamonds,

and there was some splendid music. But most of the men were

Conservative, and were abusing Gladstone in a most shameful way.

“Did I tell you I met Mr. Guthrie (_vice versa_ Guthrie)? He is

very simple and unaffected. I saw him at Mrs. Ashbee’s. Sir

Spencer Wells was also there, the famous doctor.”

“June 6, 1886.

“I go to Oxford on Friday, to stay till Tuesday, and a most

splendid programme of University sights, luncheons, dinners,

meetings, etc., is arranged for Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. I

am to be the guest of Mr. Thomas and his sister; I think he is a

Master of Queen’s, but am not sure of the college. Friday and

Saturday I must give to the Head-mistresses’ meetings, but I

shall see a good deal of Oxford life. It will be grand to be in

Oxford on Whit-Sunday.”

“June 29, 1890.

“Every day this week is full of engagements, and I find it

difficult to escape them. I _like_ to accept some. I should much

have liked to go to Mrs. Gladstone’s garden-party, and also to

the Duke of Westminster’s garden-party (I was asked as a

subscriber to the Church House), but I could not manage either,

in consequence of previous plans—Rugby, for instance.

“For the first time, yesterday, I went to the Rugby Speech Day,

at the invitation of Dr. Percival, the Head-master. ‘Tom Brown’

was there, and when Dr. Percival announced him the cheers were

deafening. Mr. Hughes has aged since I last saw him. He has made

Rugby known to every civilized country, as well as live for ever

in the memory of Rugbeians.

“Our own Prize Day was quite the best we have had for several

years. The Bishop of Rochester made an excellent speech, in

perfect taste, and Lady Elizabeth Biddulph, daughter to our

early friend, the late Countess of Hardwicke, also delivered a

_good speech_, which was liked by parents and girls. She is a

thorough-going Temperance speaker, accustomed to large

audiences.”

Cheltenham was another very attractive social centre. There she met Mrs.

Frances Owen, whose exquisite lecture on Wordsworth, given at the North

London Collegiate School, introduced her to the circle there. Mr. and

Mrs. Middleton and their son were dear friends of the same period, and

Miss Buss delighted in telling the stories of Mr. Middleton’s wonderful

cat; especially that of waking its master at early dawn one morning that

it might display five rats, laid in a row at the door; or the still more

strange story of its taking Mr. Middleton into the library, after a

fortnight’s absence, and there telling him a long tale, which the maid

explained by saying that the cat, shut up in this room, had met in

fierce combat and slain another of the enemy.

In Mr. Henry Middleton Miss Buss found artistic sympathy, and also gave

it, for her drawing-room was one of the first decorated by Mr. Middleton

in the new fashion which superseded the old white and gold of the first

half of the century. I remember being taken by Miss Buss to see Mrs.

Middleton, “that saintly woman,” as her friends called her, and bringing

away a memory of peace and joy. She had come to try London advice for

the complaint which proved fatal. And Mrs. Owen did not long survive

her.

But Cheltenham, first and last, meant _Miss Beale_. It is a joy to think

of the meetings—happily frequent—between these two kindred workers, who

could give each other so rare a sympathy. The North London Collegiate

and Camden Schools and the Cheltenham Ladies’ College are two great

creations, original works of genius; and when we think of the continuous

stream, scarcely less than a thousand persons, pupils and teachers,

always passing through both places, we find a power and influence simply

incalculable. The meeting between the two heads suggests a _tête-à-tête_

between two queens, who for a brief bright respite may escape from the

loneliness of royalty.[20]

Footnote 20:

As an instance of the “true word spoken in jest,” we find this

separateness of the two leaders emphasized, at a very early period of

their career, in the often-quoted nonsense-rhyme, at which they

laughed with the rest—

“Miss Buss and Miss Beale

Cupid’s darts do not feel;

They are not like us,

Miss Beale and Miss Buss!”

The authorship of this quatrain is uncertain, being attributed either

to a master of Clifton, or to a boy of Cheltenham College. It is quite

certain that they were not written by one of Miss Buss’ pupils, nor

were they ever (as reported) found on the blackboard of any class-room

in the North London Collegiate School for Girls.

Miss Beale was some years the younger, and in fullest vigour when her

friend was feeling the stress and strain of work. But Miss Buss took the

deepest interest in all the later developments at Cheltenham, and could

rejoice in seeing at last the full realization of her own early dream,

in an institution where a child may now enter the Kindergarten at the

age of three—there is a lovely school full of these happy mites—and,

after going through all the course, may finally leave the Training

School as B.A. or B.Sc., fully competent to teach what she has so

thoroughly learned.

It was wonderful how many different interests were packed into that full

life. Besides all her private visiting, and educational and

philanthropic meetings, there were the meetings of literary societies.

She often went to those of the Royal Institution, and of the Royal

Geographical, taking her girls. She belonged to the Wordsworth Society,

and I remember her keen delight in an address by James Russell Lowell,

in the library at Lambeth Palace, and again the satisfaction in the

beautiful simplicity with which Mr. Lowell, in an address to the

Browning Society, took the Christian side in the discussions which were

a marked feature of that society. Even for the Society of Psychical

Research she could keep an open mind, though in general she did not care

for things abstract or vague. For fun she was always ready, and I well

remember how we enjoyed Mark Twain’s subtle nonsense, in his lecture on

“Our Fellow-savages of the Sandwich Islands.”

She had by nature and early association a great love of the drama, and

indulged occasionally in a visit to the theatre, especially enjoying a

French play, as she says—

“I am taking an evening sometimes, however, to get a French

lesson at the Comèdie Française. I saw _L’Avare_ last night. It

is most perfectly acted.

“I saw Bernhardt in _Andromaque_. She is a wonderful actress,

with a curious power of impressing herself on the spectator’s

mind. Andromaque made one very sad; it seemed to point to the

poor empress. How thankful I should be to die if I were in her

place.”

She had much to say on her return from all such experiences, as well as

from dinners and _fêtes_, when she had met and talked with eminent

persons. Unhappily, there was no phonograph to take down her talk. It

has gone, and with it all the record of times and seasons of public and

private import of which she knew.

Then we have a peep at the books that interested her—

“Broadstairs, Aug. 26, 1873.

“Frank has been my companion in all my wanderings. I have _read_

to my heart’s content; the laddie always goes to bed early, and

so I had always two or three hours at night. I have devoured

books on Education, Siljistrom’s American schools, Heppeau’s

ditto. So that I have had two studies of American education; the

one from a Swedish point of view, the other from a French. In

Belgium, my boy and I studied Motley’s ‘Rise of the Dutch

Republic,’ ‘Belfry of Bruges,’ etc. Although the holidays have

been more broken up than I care for—they have been restful and

enjoyable.

“On Saturday 6th I am to go to Gunnersbury, where my uncle Henry

lives, and then I shall have a few days in the middle of the

last week of the holidays. _If I can_, I want to go to

Stratford-on-Avon on a pilgrimage—by the way, pilgrimages are

all the fashion now!—to Shakespeare’s country.”

“I have been reading with intense interest the American book on

the education of girls—the answer, by an American woman, to the

book by Dr. Clark which formed the text for Dr. Maudsley’s

article in the _Fortnightly_ for April against the Higher

Education of Women! The American women make out a strong case

for themselves....

“If you have not read ‘Sister Dora’ let me lend it to you. She

is an encouragement and a warning! She was very self-willed, and

that is different from being strong-willed. She was the latter,

too.”

(To her nephew, January 8, 1892.) “I am going to send you two

comic books—‘My Wife’s Politics’ and ‘Samantha among the

Brethren’—both books bearing on the woman-question—_the_

question of the end of the nineteenth century. You will perhaps

live to see the effects of the emancipation of women. Their

higher and fuller development, their greater knowledge, and

therefore greater sympathy, will bring them nearer to men of the

best kind. For the other kind of men—as Mrs. Poyser says, ‘There

will always be fools enough to match the men!’ I should like to

revisit our planet at the end of the twentieth century, to see

the effect on Society of the great revolution of the

nineteenth—the Woman’s Rights Question.”

In early days, Miss Buss used at Easter to take a large house by the

sea, and fill it with her family—the nephews and nieces bringing young

friends—or with pupils or members of the staff. Later, her country house

at Epping was open in this way for short holidays, and of these Mrs.

Hill says—

“It was delightful to be with Miss Buss at Epping. She generally

had something interesting to read to us in the evening. She

never minded what we did, and looked indulgently on all kinds of

pranks.

“She remembered one’s likes and dislikes in the way of food. One

of the last times I had tea with her (in October, 1874) she had

some special cakes which she knew I liked, and when Mr. Hill and

I were staying with her at Overstrand, if we expressed a liking

for anything, she said to her companion, ‘Why do you not get it

for them?’

“This minute thoughtfulness is a matter of constant comment.

Miss Edwards tells of a visit from an old pupil who brought her

daughter to Myra, and at tea-time Miss Buss asked, ‘Does your

little girl like sugar as much as you did, my dear?’”

During her nephews’ college career she several times took a house at

Cambridge, always arranging something in which her girl-undergraduates

could join. Of one of her dances there is an account from her friend

Mrs. Mathieson—

“In January, 1886, Miss Buss called and asked me to join her in

giving a dance at Cambridge. Her two nephews were there, and Mr.

W. Buck. My son was also there, and my daughter at Girton. I

think we had about twenty from Girton, and the same number from

Newnham, and Miss Hughes brought about twelve from the Training

College. Miss Buss and I each took down a party, and there were

plenty of men from the various colleges.

“I well remember the interest taken by Miss Buss in the

arrangements, and her distress because Girton and Newnham would

not extend the time for their students, who were obliged to

leave us at 10.30, which, of course, broke up our party, since

we were left with fifty men to ten girls, as Miss Hughes took

hers away when the other colleges went.”

There is a little note from Miss Buss in reference to this party, in

which she says—

“I find I have made a mistake in the date; February 25 _is_ in

Lent. In any case, the dance cannot be managed before Easter.

“Have you seen _Punch_? There is a small young lady who, when

accused by her mother of being ‘stupid,’ says, ‘No, I am only

inattentive!’ Let me hope my mistake was like the child’s!”

Mrs. Hill, who knew the Cambridge life well, says of it—

“She seemed most in her element, so to say, when she was at

Cambridge. I went with her ten or twelve times, and she was

always most anxious that her young people should have the best

time possible. If necessary, she would herself chaperon us to

breakfast, lunch, tea, coffee, in the Undergraduate’s rooms, and

(what added to the pleasure) she enjoyed going. Twice she gave a

dance, when she made a delightful hostess.”

It is also in reference to this phase of her life that Mrs. Bryant gives

this pretty picture of Miss Buss—

“Her sympathy with young people was by no means limited to the

serious side of things, or to her own remembered experiences.

Her imagination, with the tender, happiness-loving heart behind,

held her in touch with all the innocent gaieties, and even

vanities of youth. Many will remember her pleasant parties at

Cambridge, including some dances, and the delightful way in

which she acted the part of motherly chaperon, never tired,

never in a hurry to get to the end, never distressed by those

modifications in the order and punctuality of meals which youth

regards as a normal part of merry-making. Respecting the

vanities, I remember telling her on one occasion that my niece

was going to her first ‘grown-up’ dance. ‘There are such pretty

shoes nowadays for girls,’ she said, ‘I hope you have got her

something very pretty. A girl’s first dance comes only once.’”

Miss Newman tells a similar tale of a time when, as they were together

at Matlock, Miss Buss asked her to help choose some amber for a birthday

present, asking her opinion and advice. Miss Newman had no idea that

Miss Buss knew that the next day was her birthday; but when the birthday

came she found the amber on her table, with a card of good wishes.

Mrs. Bryant says also that—

“when boys were in question, her sympathy was even more

delightful. In her family experience, boys had predominated,

though she had always been a girl-like girl, not given to

participation in boys’ games. Her tolerance for boys, their

muddy boots and disturbing household ways, was quite unlimited,

though doubtless, and probably for that very reason, no boy of

her circle would have thought of disobeying her. I have spent

more than one happy holiday with her and her nephews in the

country, and know how to appreciate her rare sympathy with our

more athletic ideas of pleasure, and the ease with which her

plans would fall in with ours. Once I was with her in Killarney,

and wanted to climb Carn-Tual. ‘I want to go for a climb

to-morrow,’ she said. ‘It will suit me excellently to drive to

the foot of your mountain, and there will be plenty to amuse me

while you go up.’”

Her intensity of vital power kept her in touch with all young life. The

strong love of little children, which was one of her most marked

characteristics, was only the lovely blossoming of this vigorous growth;

nothing refreshed her more, when she was tired of work, or worn with

worries, than to have a “baby-show” of her nephews and nieces in their

day, and then of their children and the children of old pupils. She

liked just a few at a time, so that she might thoroughly enjoy them,

when she would herself get out toys from her stores, watching the play

while she and the mothers told stories of child wit and wisdom. One of

her very latest pleasures in life was the visit of a little new

namesake—a tiny “Frances Mary,” who will rejoice in the name though she

can have no memory of the kind face that brightened at the sight of her

baby ways—and one of her last quite coherent remarks was an inquiry for

“little curly-head,” as she called her nephew’s little son.

Here is a characteristic little story told by Mrs. Pierson—