UNIVERSITY HALL--_DAVID GRIEVE_ AND "STOCKS"
1889-1892
The conversations with Stopford Brooke and Lord Carlisle mentioned in
the last chapter contained the germ of all that public work which was to
claim henceforth so large a share of Mrs. Ward's life. Up to this point
she had hardly taken any part in London committees; indeed, those
spacious days were still comparatively free from them, and it is
remembered that when the first meeting of the group with whom she was
discussing her new scheme took place at Russell Square,[15] one
irreverent child in the schoolroom next door said to its fellow, "What's
a committee?" "Oh," said the elder, in the manner of one who imparts
information, "it's when the grown-ups get together, and first they
think, and then they talk, and then they think again." At the moment no
sound was audible through the wall. "They must be thinking now," said
the instructor carelessly, leaving his junior to the solemn belief, held
for many years, that a committee was a sort of prayer-meeting.
That first group, who discussed and finally approved Mrs. Ward's draft
circular announcing the foundation of a "Hall for Residents" in London,
consisted of the following men and women besides herself: Dr. Martineau,
Dr. James Drummond, of Manchester College, Oxford, Mr. Stopford Brooke,
Lord Carlisle, Rev. W. Copeland Bowie, Dr. Estlin Carpenter, Mr.
Frederick Nettlefold, the Dowager Countess Russell, Miss Frances Power
Cobbe, and lastly, Dr. Blake Odgers, Q.C., who acted as Hon. Treasurer.
Mr. Copeland Bowie, who helped Mrs. Ward for several months as a "kind
of assistant secretary," has recorded his impressions of those crowded
days in an article which he wrote for the _Inquirer_ on April 3, 1920:
"We met in the dining-room at Russell Square. Mrs. Ward was the
moving and executive force; the rest of us were simply admiring and
sympathetic spectators of her enterprise and zeal. It is delightful
to recall her abounding activity and enthusiasm. Difficulties were
overcome, criticisms were answered, work was carried on with
extraordinary devotion and skill. Several meetings were devoted to
the consideration of how to proceed, for the pathway was beset by
many difficulties. At last, early in March, 1890, a scheme for the
establishment of a Settlement at University Hall, Gordon Square, in
a part of the old building belonging to Dr. Williams's Trustees,
was agreed upon. The religious note is very prominent. University
Hall would encourage 'an improved popular teaching of the Bible and
the history of religion, in order to show the adaptability of the
faith of the past to the needs of the present.'"
The aims of the new movement were, in fact, set forth in the original
circular in these words:
"It has been determined to establish a Hall for residents in
London, somewhat on the lines of Toynbee Hall, with the following
objects in view:
"1. To provide a fresh rallying point and enlarged means of common
religious action for all those to whom Christianity, whether by
inheritance or process of thought, has become a system of practical
conduct, based on faith in God, and on the inspiring memory of a
great teacher, rather than a system of dogma based on a unique
revelation. Such persons especially, who, while holding this point
of view, have not yet been gathered into any existing religious
organization, are often greatly in want of those helps towards the
religious life, whether in thought or action, which are so readily
afforded by the orthodox bodies to their own members. The first aim
of the new Hall will be a religious aim.
[Illustration: MRS. WARD IN 1889 (Bassano, photo.)]
"2. The Hall will endeavour to promote an improved popular teaching
of the Bible and of the history of religion. To this end
continuous teaching will be attempted under its roof on such
subjects as Old and New Testament criticism, the history of
Christianity, and that of non-Christian religions. A special effort
will be made to establish Sunday teaching both at the Hall and, by
the help of the Hall residents, in other parts of London, for
children of all classes. The children of well-to-do parents are
often worse off in this matter of careful religious teaching than
those of their poorer neighbours. There can be little doubt that
many persons are deeply dissatisfied with the whole state of
popular religious teaching in England. Either it is purely
dogmatic, taking no account of the developments of modern thought
and criticism, or it is colourless and perfunctory, the result of a
compromise which satisfies and inspires nobody. Yet that a simpler
Christianity can be frankly and effectively taught, so as both to
touch the heart and direct the will, is the conviction and familiar
experience of many persons in England, America, France and Holland.
But the new teaching wants organizing, deepening and extending. It
should be the aim of the proposed Hall to work towards such an
end."
It was natural that such ideals as these should appeal in a peculiar way
to the Unitarian community, and we find in fact that the first
subscription list, which guaranteed an income of about £700 to
University Hall for three years, contains a preponderance of Unitarian
names. Lord Carlisle and Mr. Stopford Brooke were in favour of calling
it frankly a Unitarian Settlement. "There is a life and spirit about the
things which are done by Dissenters," wrote Lord Carlisle, "which I
believe can never be got out of people who have a lingering feeling for
the Church of England." But the majority on the Committee, including
Mrs. Ward and Dr. Martineau, thought that this would be setting
unnecessary limits to the movement, which they rather intended to be a
leaven permeating the lump both of orthodoxy and of indifferentism. It
was therefore agreed not to use the word in the preliminary circular,
though all the world could see from the names on the Committee that the
tone of the new Settlement would be largely that of the younger and
freer Unitarianism which had founded Manchester College, Oxford. It was
one of Mrs. Ward's most characteristic achievements that while she
herself never sympathized with Unitarianism as an organization, she was
yet able to work closely with Unitarians in this her first great
enterprise, sharing with them their enthusiasm for the Christian message
and their austere devotion to truth, while herself cherishing that
"lingering feeling for the Church of England" which forbade her to
identify herself with any outside body while there was still hope of
influencing and widening the national Church. Yet for all practical
purposes the breach between the "new religion," as its critics
contemptuously dubbed it, and the Establishment was complete enough, and
the foundation of University Hall only confirmed the orthodox in their
disapproval of Mrs. Ward and all her works.
Besides its definitely religious aim, the new Settlement was to have a
well-marked social side as well. This is set forth in another paragraph
of the circular:
"It is intended that the Hall shall do its utmost to secure for its
residents opportunities for religious and social work, and for the
study of social problems, such as are possessed by the residents at
Toynbee Hall or those at Oxford House. There will be a certain
number of rooms in the Hall which can be used for social purposes,
for lectures, for recreative and continuation classes and so on.
Though the Hall itself is in one of the West Central Squares, it is
surrounded on three sides by districts crowded with poor. A room
could be taken for workers from the Hall in any of these districts
or in the Drury Lane neighbourhood. In addition, the Hall is close
to Gower Street Station, so that it would be comparatively easy for
the residents to take part in any of the organizations already
existing in the East or South of London, for the help of the poor
and the study of social problems."
And in spite of the religious ardour of its founders, it was in this
aspect of the work of University Hall that the germ of future
developments really lay. But the future lay hidden as yet from Mrs. Ward
and her gifted band of associates and fellow-workers.
Many difficulties were encountered in the appointment of a suitable
Warden, for a combination of qualities was required which was not easy
to find, especially in the limited circle of those whose views in
matters of faith agreed broadly with those of the Committee. Month after
month went by while Mrs. Ward and Dr. Martineau interviewed many
candidates, often assisted by Canon Barnett, of Toynbee, whose interest
in the new venture was as sincere as it was generous. Applications from
possible residents came in fast, showing that the work would not lack
support in that direction, but even in August the Warden was still to
seek. At length, however, in September, the ideal choice was made in Mr.
Philip Wicksteed, who was then holding the office of minister at the
Unitarian chapel in Little Portland Street. He was already beginning to
be widely known outside his regular work as a lecturer on Biblical
subjects and on Dante, and Mrs. Ward had already sounded him once or
twice in this matter of the Wardenship. But he had hitherto evaded it on
the ground that his election would identify the Hall with Unitarianism.
At last, however, Mrs. Ward won his acceptance at an interview she had
with him at Russell Square, in which she greeted him with the words "I
want to _wrestle_ with you!" He dealt frankly with her on the subject of
the religious aims of the Hall, and in a letter written to her a few
days after his acceptance said:
"You remember when first you spoke to me on this matter how I told
you that I had never been clear as to the exact thing contemplated
in the Hall, and had never felt that it had any programme. Under
those circumstances I felt that it would be false to myself and in
reality false to you to allow myself to be overcome by your
splendid faith and enthusiasm and take it up without any true
inspiration in pity that so noble a 'quest' should find no
knight-errant to try it.
"My work with you has considerably cleared my vision, and has
inspired me with growing _hopes_ for the institution, but I cannot
honestly say that it has given me any deep _faith_ in its success.
You know how anxious I have been throughout about our audience for
lectures, and how doubtful about the existence of any large public
seriously interested in Biblical studies. My fears are not allayed;
though I hope the result may put them to shame."
With Mr. Wicksteed's acceptance of the Wardenship, the arrangements for
lectures and the preparations for the reception of Residents were
pushed on apace, while the Committee decided that a formal opening
ceremony must be held in order to plant the flag of the new Settlement's
faith and ideals. The Portman Rooms were taken for the purpose; the
venerable Dr. Martineau consented to be in the chair, and Mrs. Ward was
to make the principal speech. She had never spoken in public before, and
was genuinely terrified at the prospect (three years later she put into
_Marcella's_ experience in the East End her own horror of extempore
speaking); but she prepared her address with great care, and was
afterwards told that her voice carried to the farthest limits of the
room, packed as it was with a keenly expectant audience. Her plea was
that the time had come for a reconstruction of the basis of Christian
belief; that the results both of Darwinian inquiry and of historical
criticism must be faced, especially in the teaching of children, but
that when the "search for an exacter truth, which is the fate and
mission of humanity" had been met, a possibility of faith remained which
would be the future hope of the world. To the elucidation of this faith
the efforts of the Hall, on its teaching and lecturing side, would be
devoted. And in speaking of the "social and practical effort which is an
_essential_ part of our scheme," she pleaded that it was "yet not its
most distinctive nor its most vital part. The need of urging it on
public attention is recognized in all camps. Yet, meanwhile, there are
hundreds of men and women who spend themselves in these works of charity
and mercy who are all the time inwardly starved, crying for something
else, something more, if they could but get it. What matters to them,
first and foremost--what would give fresh life to all their
efforts--would be the provision of a new motive power, a new hope for
the individual life in God, a new respect for man's destiny. Let me
recall you for a moment from the gospel of works to the great Pauline
gospel of faith, and the inner life! It is in the bringing back of
_faith_--not the faith which confuses legend with history, or puts
authority in the place of knowledge, but the faith which springs from
moral and spiritual fact, and may be day after day, and hour after hour,
again verified by fact--that the great task of our generation lies."
Thus was the new venture launched, amid a mingled chorus of admiration
and criticism from that section of the world which was affected by the
movement of ideas. The lecturing at University Hall was soon in full
swing, and was maintained at a very high level during the years 1891 and
1892, so that when Mrs. Ward went on a speaking tour to some of the
northern towns in the autumn of the latter year in order to appeal for
funds for a further period of three years (an appeal in which she was
completely successful), she was able to give a very remarkable account
of it. Many courses on both Old and New Testament criticism had been
given, by Mr. Wicksteed, by Dr. Estlin Carpenter, by M. Chavannes, of
Leyden; on the Fourth Gospel by that fine scholar, Mr. Charles Hargrove;
on Theism by Prof. Knight, and on the Gospel of St. Luke by Dr.
Martineau himself. These latter took place on Sunday afternoons during
the spring of 1891. "Sunday after Sunday," said Mrs. Ward, "the Hall of
Dr. Williams's Library was crowded to the doors, and, I believe by many
to whom the line of thought followed in the lectures was of quite fresh
help and service; and it will be long indeed before many of us forget
the last Sunday--the venerable form, the beautiful voice, the note of
unconquerable hope as to the future of faith, and yet of unconquerable
courage as to the rights of the mind! I at least shall always look back
to that hour as to a moment of consecration for our young Institution,
disclosing to us at once its opportunities and its responsibilities." In
the non-Biblical sphere Mrs. J. R. Green had given a series of lectures
on the development of the English towns[16]; Miss Beatrice Potter (soon
to become Mrs. Sidney Webb) a course on the Co-operative Movement, which
became the foundation of her great book on that subject; Mr. Graham
Wallas on "The English Citizen"; Mr. Stopford Brooke on "The English
Poets of the Nineteenth Century"; while the Warden lectured to large
audiences on Dante, and "ground away" (in his own words) at political
economy, thinking aloud before his band of students and "forging forward
on new lines." It was all very stimulating, very much alive; but
whether, as the months passed on, it was exactly carrying out the aims
and intentions of that opening day, some sympathetic observers began to
doubt.
"I was uneasy all the time," wrote Mr. Wicksteed afterwards to J.
P. T., "because though I thought I was working honestly and in a
way usefully, yet I could never quite feel that the Settlement was
doing the work it set out to do, or that it was quite justifying
its subscription list. But I don't believe your mother, in spite of
a great measure of personal disappointment, ever had the smallest
doubt or misgiving in this matter. She thoroughly believed in the
significance and value of what _was_ being done, and cared for it
with a vivid faith and affection, and supported it with an
inventive enthusiasm, that have always seemed to me the expression
of a generosity and magnanimity of a type and quality that were
quite distinctive."
An energetic attempt was made to interest the young men employed in the
big shops of Tottenham Court Road in the Hall's activities; but the
times were premature; not until the Great War had loosed the foundations
of our society did the young men of Tottenham Court Road find their way
into the Y.M.C.A. "The young men of Tottenham Court Road," wrote Mr.
Copeland Bowie, "gave no sign that they wished to partake of the food
provided for them at University Hall." Then, somewhat apart from the
lecturing scheme of the Hall, there grew up the body of Residents, young
men of divers attainments and tastes who were hard to mould into the
original scheme, some of whom were even greatly concerned to show that
they depended in no way for their ideas on the author of _Robert
Elsmere_. Occasionally there were difficult moments at the Council
meetings, when the Residents' views clashed with those of the older
members, but it was at those moments, and generally in her gift for
bowing to the inevitable when it came, that Mrs. Ward endeared herself
most to her fellow-workers by her rare great-heartedness. During their
first winter's work at the Hall the Residents had discovered, in the
squalid neighbourhood to the east of Tavistock Square, a dingy building
that went by the name of Marchmont Hall, which they decided to take as
the scene of their regular social activities. They raised a special fund
for its expenses, and under the leadership of a young solicitor, who
combined much shrewdness and ability with a glowing enthusiasm for the
service of his fellow-men, the late Mr. Alfred Robinson, the suspicions
of the neighbourhood were overcome and a fruitful programme of boys'
clubs, men's clubs, concerts and lectures launched by the autumn of
1891. Mrs. Ward was deeply interested in the experiment, and hoped
against hope that it might lead to those opportunities for Christian
teaching which still lay very near her heart. A year later she was able
to give the following account of their first attempts in that direction:
"The Sunday evening lectures are preceded by half an hour's music,
and have been from the first more definitely ethical and religious
in tone than those given on Thursday. But it is only quite recently
we have felt that we could speak freely, without danger of
misunderstanding, upon those subjects which are generally
identified by the working-classes with sectarian and ecclesiastical
propaganda. Now that we are known we need have no fear; and on
November 12 the Warden, who had already spoken on the prophets of
Israel and other kindred topics, gave an address on the life and
character of Jesus. It was received with warm feeling, and more
lectures of the same kind have already been arranged for. Next term
we hope a class in the Gospels, already begun, may take larger
proportions. Among the boys and young men of the Hall, often
intelligent and well-educated as they are, there is an
extraordinary amount of sheer ignorance and indifference as to the
Christian story and literature, even when they have had their full
share of the usual Sunday School training. To some of us there
could be no more welcome task, to be undertaken at once with
eagerness and with trembling, than that of making old things new to
eyes and hearts still capable of that 'admiration, hope, and love'
by which alone we truly live."
But the movement never developed, for in truth there was no Elsmere to
lead it; Mrs. Ward herself went three times to take a boy's class on
Sunday afternoons, but could not, in the midst of her other work,
maintain the effort; the Warden, versatile as he was, did not regard it
as his _first_ interest, while from the body of Residents came a dumb
sense of antagonism, not amounting to direct opposition, but just as
effective, which in the end prevailed. The "School" of Biblical studies
at University Hall continued as before, appealing to a definite class of
students and educated persons of the middle-class, but the attempt to
fuse it with the social work at Marchmont Hall was doomed to succeed as
little as the attempt to attract to it the half-educated shopmen of
Tottenham Court Road. Gradually the human interest of the experiment,
the sense of romance and adventure, went over from the lecturing side to
the work at Marchmont Hall, where the popular lectures and discussions,
the Saturday evening concerts and the Saturday morning "play-rooms" for
children were making a real mark on the life of the district. But Mrs.
Ward was fully able to recognize this, and accepted in an ungrudging
spirit the different direction which circumstances had given to her own
cherished dreams.
"It will be seen readily enough," wrote Mr. Wicksteed in the
memorial pamphlet issued by the Passmore Edwards Settlement, "that
it was on the side of the School rather than on that of the
Residence that Mrs. Ward's ideals seemed to have the best chance of
fulfilling themselves. Yet in truth it was in the Residence that
the germ of future development lay. The greatness of Mrs. Ward's
character was shown in her recognition--painful and unwilling
sometimes, but always brave and loyal--of this fact. She could not
and did not relinquish her "Elsmerean" ideals. The romance of
_Richard Meynell_, published twenty-three years after _Robert
Elsmere_, shows them in unabated ardour. The failure of the
Residence to amalgamate with the School was the source of deep
distress to her. She sometimes suggested measures for overcoming it
that did not approve themselves to her colleagues, but throughout
she never suspected their loyalty, and never failed in her own. It
needed rare magnanimity. Patience seems too passive a word to apply
to so ardent a spirit, but something that did the work of patience
was very truly there. And as she came to recognize that with the
available material the Settlement could not be the embodiment of
her full ideal, she withdrew her vital energies from the attempt to
force a passage where none was possible, she steadily refused to
let blood flow through a wound that could be and should be healed,
and she threw all the strength of her inventive and resourceful
mind--and what is more the full stream of her affection and joy in
accomplished good--into the development of such branches of her
purpose as by that agency could be furthered."
By the year 1893 the situation as between University Hall and Marchmont
Hall had become a curious one, since the former was too large and
expensive for its purpose and the latter not nearly large enough. Mrs.
Ward and her friends came to the conclusion that some scheme must be
devised for combining the activities of both institutions under one
roof; but since no suitable building existed anywhere in the
neighbourhood of Marchmont Hall, where deep roots had been struck in the
affections of the working population, it became obvious that the only
solution was to build. Through the early spring of 1894 Mrs. Ward
laboured to interest the old friends of University Hall in an appeal for
a Building Fund of £5,000; but it was uphill work; her health had
suffered greatly from the long strain, and there were moments when hope
sank very low. Then, one evening in May of that year, the postman's
knock sounded below, and one of us went down as usual to fetch the
letters. There was but a single dull-looking letter in an ordinary
"commercial envelope." "Only a bill," announced the bearer, as it was
placed in Mrs. Ward's hands. She opened it, glanced at the signature,
read it rapidly through, and then, with a little cry, exclaimed: "Mr.
Passmore Edwards is going to build us a Settlement!"
She had written to him at last, knowing of him--as all that generation
knew--mainly as the generous founder of Free Libraries, but without much
hope that he would seriously take up the Marchmont Hall building scheme.
At that time the Committee were in favour of a site in Somers Town,
north of the Euston Road, the advantages of which Mrs. Ward had set
forth in her letter to Mr. Edwards. His answer ran as follows:
_May 30, 1894._
MY DEAR MADAM,--
Since I received your letter in Italy I have considered your
suggestion in reference to the extension in ampler premises of
University Hall Settlement, and thereby planting as you say a
Toynbee Hall in the Somers Town district. I have also visited the
district in and around Clarendon Sq., and am convinced that such an
Institution is as much wanted in North London as it was wanted in
East London. I therefore cheerfully respond to your appeal, and
undertake to provide the necessary building within the limits of
the sum you indicate, if somebody will provide a suitable site. The
vacant place in Clarendon Sq. would, I consider, be a convenient
spot for the Settlement. As a matter of course, provision must be
made that the building shall be permanently devoted to the purpose
now intended. In my opinion we have the two things most necessary
in the Somers Town district for a Toynbee Hall: we have a numerous
working population requiring educational assistance and advantages;
and we have in the neighbourhood many able and willing workers
ready to assist in works of intellectual, moral and social culture.
I remain,
Yours faithfully,
J. PASSMORE EDWARDS.
This was her first great victory on the road to the building of the
Passmore Edwards Settlement. That road was still to be a long and
difficult one, but she was not to be discouraged, and where many lesser
souls would have fallen out by the wayside, wearied by ill-health and by
the multiplication of obstacles, she persisted, and won in the end a
vantage-ground in the fine buildings of the Settlement, whence, in the
course of time, she could pass on to new and various achievements.
Heavy and exacting as the work of University Hall was during the first
three years of its existence, and glum as the face of our coachman was
wont to look at the reiterated orders to drive there (for he disapproved
of his horse being kept waiting in the street while people were just
talking), Mrs. Ward never allowed it to absorb her mind completely.
Indeed, these years saw the writing of her second three-volume novel,
_The History of David Grieve_, as well as many important developments in
our domestic affairs. The house on Grayswood Hill, near Haslemere, was
rising fast during the early months of 1890, while the principles of the
new Settlement were being thrashed out in the study at Russell Square,
and at length Mrs. Ward tore herself away from London, stipulating for a
six weeks' break from the affairs of University Hall, buried herself in
a neighbouring house named "Grayswood Beeches," wrote _David_ hard, and
kept a watchful eye on the plasterers and painters at work on "Lower
Grayswood" below. She took the keenest interest in every detail of the
new house, planning it out in daily letters to her husband, and yet as
it drew near completion she could not help rebelling at its very
newness, at the half-made garden and the plantations of birch and larch
and pine which covered much of the nine acres of ground, while of real
trees there was hardly one. Waves of longing would assail her for
Hampden House, with its silence and its spaciousness, its old lawns and
trees, and its complete absence of neighbours. "How I have been
hankering after Hampden lately!" she writes to her father in June, 1890,
and to her husband she confesses that she has been to the agent's to
inquire whether Hampden could be let for a term of years. "They don't
think so. I told them to inquire without mentioning our names at all."
Hampden, however, was not to be had, and when once she was established
in Lower Grayswood, Mrs. Ward took more kindly to the house, which had
from its windows one of the most astonishing views in all the South of
England. Yet still she wrote to her father: "I doubt whether I shall be
content ultimately without an old house and old trees! If one may covet
anything, I think one may covet this kind of inheritance from the past
to shelter one's own later life in. Life seems so short to make anything
quite fresh. Meanwhile, Lower Grayswood is very nice, and more than we
deserve!"
The verdict of children and friends was indeed unanimous in praise of
the poor new house, whence endless fishing expeditions were made to
muddy little brooks in the plain below, almost compensating for the loss
of Forked Pond and the other barbarian delights of Borough Farm. But
even the children realized that there were "too many people about" for
the health of their mother's work. The pile of cards on the hall table
grew ominously thick. Americans walked in, taking no denial, and once in
mid-August, when the youngest child tactlessly won a junior race at the
Lythe Hill Sports, with all Haslemere looking on, there were paragraphs
in the evening papers. It would not do, and I think the house at
Haslemere was doomed from that day onwards. Still, for two years it
played its part delightfully in the web of Mrs. Ward's life, giving her
quiet, especially in the autumn and winter, for the writing of _David
Grieve_, giving her deep draughts of beauty which were not forgotten in
after years. The lodge was made a home for tired Londoners, whether boys
or mothers or factory-girls, and the house itself was never long empty
of guests.
There, too, in the book-lined room which she had made her study, she
would on Sunday evenings carry out in practice those ideas on the
teaching of the Bible which she had striven to inculcate at University
Hall. The audience sat on low stools or lay on the floor, while she read
to them usually a part of the Gospels, making the scene live again, as
only she could make it, not only by her intimate knowledge of the times,
but by her gift of presentation. Systematically, making us use our minds
to follow her, she would work through a section of St. Mark or St.
Matthew, comparing each with the other, showing the touches of the
"later hand," taking us deep into the fascinating intricacies of the
Synoptic Problem. But all the time the central figure would grow clearer
and clearer, in simple majesty of parable or act of healing, while at
the greatest moments commentary fell away and only the old words broke
the stillness. She was immensely interested in the problem of the
Master's own view of himself and his mission, following him step by step
to the declaration at Cæsarea Philippi, then tracing the gathering
conviction that in himself was to be fulfilled Isaiah's prophecy of the
Suffering Servant. She was inclined to reject the prophecies of the
Second Coming as showing too obviously the feeling of the second
generation, as being unworthy of him who said, "The Kingdom of God is
within you." But in later years she came to regard them as probably
based on utterances of his own, for was he not, after all, the child of
his time and country? With an episode like the Transfiguration she would
show us the elements of popular legend from which it was put together,
fitting piece into piece till the whole stood out with a new freshness,
throwing its light backwards over the age-long Jewish expectations of
the return of Moses and Elijah. So with the Resurrection stories; she
bade us always remember the teeming soil from which they sprang, in that
long-past childhood of the world; how none of them were written down
till forty years, most of them not till sixty and seventy years, had
passed since the Crucifixion; how the return from Hades on the third day
is at least as old as Alcestis. These things, she said, forbade us to
accept them as literal fact; but it was impossible to listen to her
reading of the Walk to Emmaus, or the finding of the empty tomb, without
coming under the spell of an emotion as deep as it was austere. For the
fact that we in these latter days had outgrown our childhood and must
distinguish truth from phantasy was no reason in her mind, why we should
renounce the poetic value of scenes and pictures woven into the very
fabric of our being. And so, Sunday after Sunday, our little minds drank
in a teaching which she would fain believe could have been spread
broadcast among our generation, could the ideals of University Hall but
reach the masses. She did not realize how unique her teaching was, nor
how few among her generation combined such knowledge as hers with such a
power of instilling it into other minds and hearts.
* * * * *
The writing of _David Grieve_ was a long-sustained effort, extending
over the best part of three years, and too often performed under the
handicap of writer's cramp and sleeplessness. But Mrs. Ward was at the
prime of her powers, and felt herself more thoroughly master of her
material in this book than she had done in the case of _Robert Elsmere_,
so that the revision, when it came, was a matter of weeks and not of
months. Her visits to Manchester and Derbyshire for the local colour of
the book had inspired her with a vivid faith in the working population
of the north, which finds expression in a letter written to her father
in September, 1890, in reply to criticisms which he, with his Catholic
prepossessions, had made on the unloveliness of their lives:
"You and I would not agree about New Mills, I am afraid! At least,
if New Mills is like Bacup and the towns along the Irwell, as I
suppose it is. After seeing those mill-colonies among the moors, I
came home cheered and comforted in my mind for the future of
England--so differently may the same things affect different
people. Beatrice Potter told me that she had stayed for some time
incog. as one of themselves with a family of mill-hands at Bacup,
and that to her mind they were 'the salt of the earth,' so good and
kind to each other, so diligent, so God-fearing, so truly
unworldly. She attributed it to their religion, to those hideous
chapels, which develop in them the keenest individual sense of
responsibility to God and man, to their habit of combination for a
common end as in their Co-op. Societies and Unions, and to their
real sensitiveness to education and the things of the mind, up to a
certain point, of course. And certainly all that I saw last autumn
bore her out. I imagine that if you were to compare Lancashire with
any other manufacturing district in Europe, with Belgium, with
Lyons, with Catalonia, it would show favourably as regards the type
of human character developed. All the better men and women are
interested in the things that interested St. Paul--grace and
salvation, and the struggle of the spirit against the flesh, and
for the rest they work for their wives and children, and learn
gradually to respect those laws of health which are, after all, as
much 'set in the world,' to use Uncle Matt's phrase, as beauty and
charm, and in their own way as much a will and purpose of God. Read
the books about Lancashire life a hundred years ago, and see if
they have not improved--if they are not less brutal, less earthy,
nearer altogether to the intelligent type of life. That they have
far to go yet one cannot deny. But altogether, when London fills me
with despair, I often think of Lancashire and am comforted for the
future. I think of the people I had tea with at Bacup, all
mill-hands, but so refined, gentle and good; and I think of the
wonderful development of the civic sense in a town like Oldham,
with all its public institutions, its combinations of workpeople
for every possible object, and its generally happy and healthy
tone. I wish the streets were less ugly, but after all, our climate
is hard and drives people indoors three-parts of the year, and the
race has very little artistic gift."
Meanwhile, the Copyright Committee was again hard at work in the United
States, arousing much anxious speculation in Mrs. Ward's mind as to
whether their Bill would be through Congress in time for her new book;
but in the end the victory came more easily and swiftly than was
expected. Congress passed it in November, 1890, and it became law in the
following March. The effect on Mrs. Ward's fortunes was not long in
making itself felt. Mr. George Smith had been negotiating for her with
an American firm that offered good but not magnificent terms for _David
Grieve_; he was dissatisfied, and in his wise heart bethought him of her
old friends the Macmillans, who had an "American house." The sequel must
be told in his own words:
15, WATERLOO PLACE, S.W.
_June 13, 1891._
DEAR MRS. HUMPHRY WARD,--
I met Frederick Macmillan in the Park this morning. It flashed on
my mind that I would sell him the American copyright of your book,
and after a long talk (which made me late for breakfast) I promised
him that if he made me a firm offer of seven thousand pounds for
the American copyright, including Canada, before one o'clock
to-day, I would accept it on your behalf. He has just called here
and written the enclosed note. I am rather pleased with myself, and
I hope that you will not reproach me. I write in haste, for I shall
feel rather anxious until I have a line from you on the subject.
Believe me,
Yours sincerely,
G. M. SMITH.
Needless to say, the "line" was forthcoming, and Mrs. Ward was left to
contemplate, with some emotion, the fact that she was mistress of a
little fortune. Whether the Macmillans remained as contented with their
bargain as she was is, however, a point of some obscurity. Certainly
they desired her next book (_Marcella_), which amply made up to them for
any shortcomings on _David Grieve_, but during the negotiations for it
some uncomfortable tales leaked out. "Mr. Brett told me," wrote Mrs.
Ward to George Smith, eighteen months after the appearance of _David_,
"that owing to the description of profit-sharing in _David Grieve_ and
the interest roused by it in America, their American branch adopted it
last year for all their employés. Then in consequence of _David_ there
were no profits to divide! I don't know whether to laugh or cry over the
situation, and I am quite determined that if there are losses this time
I will share them."
But as yet the prospect was unclouded, and the summer of 1891 was spent
in a hard wrestle with the remaining chapters of the book--with the
tragedy of Lucy and the sombre fate of Louie Grieve--but at length, on
September 24, the last words of _David Grieve_ were written, and on
October 16 she and Mr. Ward fled for nine weeks to Italy.
It was not their first visit, for in the spring of 1889 they had spent
eight days in Rome, making their first Italian friendships and learning
something of the spell of that city of old magic. "In eight days one can
but scratch the surface of Rome," she had written to her father on that
occasion. "Still, I think Lord Acton was quite right when he said to us
at Cannes, 'If you have only three days, go!' To have walked into St.
Peter's, to have driven up on to the Janiculan and seen the view of
Rome, the Alban Hills, the Campagna and Soracte which you get from
there, to have wandered about the Forum and Colosseum and to have
climbed the Palatine and the Capitol, is something after all, even if
one never saw this marvellous place again."
Now this second time she was so tired that they passed Rome by on the
outward journey and went instead to Naples, Amalfi and Ravello, where
the good Signora Palumbo, landlady of the famous little inn, tended her
as she lay quite fallow, browsing in books or gazing at sea and sky and
sunny coast. But a visit to Pompeii could still arouse all her
historical instincts:
"To sit in the Forum there," she writes to her sister, Mrs. Leonard
Huxley, "or in one of the bright gaily painted houses, or
restaurants with the wine-jars still perfect in the marble
counters, and to think that people were chatting and laughing in
those very courts and under those very pictures while Jesus was
before Pilate, or Paul was landing at Puteoli, on the same coast
some twenty miles north, made an electric moment in life. It is so
seldom one actually _feels_ and _touches_ the past. After seeing
those temples with their sacrificial altars and _cellæ_, their
priests' sleeping-rooms and dining-rooms, I read this morning St.
Paul's directions to the Corinthians about meat offered to
idols--in fact, the whole first letter--with quite different eyes."
To the same beloved sister she was indebted for the inimitable tales of
her small boy, Julian, which enliven the later pages of _David Grieve_;
for Sandy Grieve was taken direct from this little grandson of the
Professor--an "impet" indeed, in his mother's expressive phrase. "Your
stories of Julian have been killing," wrote Mrs. Ward from Naples; "I
was sorry one of them arrived too late for _David_. By the way, I have
not yet written to Willie to say that Sandy is merely an imperfect copy
of Julian. He writes 'We both _love_ Sandy.' And I am sure when the book
comes out that Sandy will be the making of some of the last part."
A month after Mrs. Ward's return to England, that is on January 22,
1892, _David Grieve_ appeared, and was at once greeted with a chorus of
praise, criticism and general talk. "Were there ever such contradictory
judgments!" wrote Mrs. Ward to her publisher when the book had been out
a week. "The Master of Balliol writes to me that it is 'the best novel
since George Eliot'--'extraordinarily pathetic and interesting'--and
that Louie is a sketch that Victor Hugo might have drawn. A sledgehammer
article in the _British Weekly_ to-night says 'it is an almost absolute
failure.' Mr. Henry Grenfell and Mr. Haldane have been glued to it till
they finished it. According to other people it is 'ordinary and
tedious.' Well, one must possess one's soul a little, I suppose, till
the real verdict emerges." The reviews were by no means all laudatory,
much criticism being bestowed on the "Paris episode" of David's
entanglement with Elise Delaunay, but the general verdict certainly was
that it showed a marked advance on _Robert Elsmere_ in artistic
treatment, as well as a power of character-drawing that had not been
seen since _Middlemarch_. This feeling was summed up in Walter Pater's
sentence: "It seems to me to have all the forces of its predecessor at
work in it, with perhaps a mellower kind of art--a more matured power of
blending disparate literary gifts in one." Letters poured in upon her
again, both from old friends and strangers. "Max Creighton," now Bishop
of Peterborough, who was never tired of poking fun at Mrs. Ward about
the "higher criticism," found time to dash off ten closely written
sheets of pseudo-solemn investigation into the authenticity of David's
life-story, beginning: "Though I am prepared to believe that David
Grieve was a real personage, it is clear that many mythical elements
have been incorporated into his history, and it is the function of
criticism to disentangle the real man from the legendary accretions
which have gathered round him." Mrs. Ward replied in suitable vein, and
confided to her friend that a few of the reviews had made her very sore.
"I am very sorry to hear," he replied, "that some criticism has been
ungenerous.... But I think that we all have to learn the responsibility
attached to undertaking the function of a teacher, and the inevitable
antagonism which the claim arouses. It has been so always. No amount of
rectitude or good intentions avail."
But the warm admiration expressed by those for whose opinion she cared
amply made up for the hostility of these reviews. As she said of it in
her _Recollections_: "It has brought me correspondence from all parts
and all classes, more intimate and striking perhaps than in the case of
any other of my books." Many pages might be filled with these letters,
but at a distance of thirty years two only shall be saved from oblivion,
for the sake of that mere quality of delight which pervades them both
and which endeared their writers beyond other men to the company in
which they moved. The first is from Professor Huxley; the second from
Sir Edward Burne-Jones.
HODESLEA, STAVELEY ROAD,
EASTBOURNE.
_February 1, 1892._
MY DEAR MARY,--
You will think I have taken my time about thanking you for _David
Grieve_; but a virtuous resolution to stick to a piece of work I
have had on hand for a long time interfered with my finishing it
before last night. The temptation was severe, and as I do not often
stick to virtuous resolutions under these circumstances, I parade
the fact.
I think the account of the Parisian episode of David's life the
strongest thing you have done yet. It is alive--every word of
it--and without note or comment produces its ethical effect after
the manner of that "gifted authoress," Dame Nature, who never
moralizes.
Being "nobbut a heathen," I should have liked the rest to be in the
same vein--the picture of a man hoping nothing, rejecting all
speculative corks and bladders--strong only in the will "im Ganzen,
Guten, Wahren resolut zu leben," and accepting himself for more or
less a failure--yet battling to the end. But you are on the side of
the angels.
We are very proud of Julian's apotheosis. He is a most delightful
imp, and the way in which he used to defy me, on occasion, when he
was here, was quite refreshing. The strength of his conviction that
people who interfere with his freedom are certainly foolish,
probably wicked, is quite Gladstonian.
My wife joins in love.
Ever yours affectionately,
T. H. HUXLEY.
* * * * *
THE GRANGE,
49, NORTH END ROAD,
WEST KENSINGTON, W.
_Saturday morning._
MY DEAR MRS. WARD,--
The book has just come--and to my pride and delight with such a
pretty autograph: so that to-day I am mightily set up. I cannot
tell you how comforting the words read to me--and how sunny they
have made this grey day. By the messenger who takes this I send a
little drawing, done in gold, which for a whole year past I have
meant for you--it was to reach you by your last birthday, but I was
ill then with this vile plague that is devastating us, and after
that there seemed no reason for sending it one day more than
another, and as I looked at it again it didn't seem good enough,
and I thought one day you would come and choose a little souvenir
of friendship--one perhaps more to your liking--but this day has
never come, and all the year through illnesses big or little have
pursued me and nipped all plans. But will you take it with my
love--real grateful love; it's a kind of Urania sort of person, and
will be proud to live in your bower in the country.
We are a poor lot--my wife kept to her room for about a month; Phil
imprisoned in a room with carbolic curtains round him as if he were
a leper, and I--too ignominious at present to be spoken
about--longing to go out and see an omnibus--I _should_ like to
see an omnibus again!
My love to you all,
Yours, E. B. J.
P.S.--The first day I can get out I shall call and take my chance
of seeing you. Don't dream of writing about the poor little
drawing; I should be ashamed, and you are full of work.
The "kind of Urania sort of person" shed a radiance all her own over our
house from that day onwards, and was removed before long to a "country
bower" after Mrs. Ward's own heart.
For early in 1892 her attention was drawn by her old friend, Mr. (now
Sir James) Thursfield, who lived near Berkhamsted, to the fact that some
five miles farther from London, in the heart of a district as rural and
unspoilt as any that could be found in England, stood a comfortable
eighteenth-century house of medium size which happened recently to have
come into the market. Sir Edward Grey had just inherited it through his
mother under the will of old James Adam Gordon, its possessor in the
'forties and 'fifties; but since the place was far from any trout-stream
he did not propose to live in it, but wished instead to find a tenant to
take it for a term of years. Its name was simply "Stocks," and though
the house itself was only 120 years old, a far older manor-house had
been pulled down to make way for it; while the little estate--"the
stokkes of the parish of Aldbury"--is mentioned in a fifteenth-century
charter as forming an outlying part of the huge diocese of Lincoln. Mr.
Thursfield persuaded Mr. and Mrs. Ward to come and see it, winter though
it was. They fell in love with it there and then, and within a few weeks
it was decided that Grayswood should be sold and Stocks taken for seven
years. Mrs. Ward felt that she had found at last the home she had been
seeking.
"You know how we have always hankered after an old place with old
trees," she wrote to her brother Willie, "and when the Thursfields
made us come down and see the place and declared we must and should
take it we couldn't in the end resist! It has such an old walled
garden, such a beautiful lime avenue, such delicious old hollies
and oaks, such woods behind it and about it! The house is bigger in
the way of bedrooms than Haslemere, but otherwise not more
formidable, and though the inside has no particular features (the
outside is charming) we shall manage I think to make it habitable
and pretty. One great attraction to me is that it is so near Euston
and therefore to the Hall and all its works. I don't mean to say
that we are taking it on any but the most ordinary selfish
principles!--but still, I like to think that I can make Marchmont
Hall, and the people who congregate about it, free of it as I
cannot do of Haslemere, and that there is a hungry demand in that
part of London for the fruit and flowers with which the place must
overflow in the summer. I believe also that the change will help me
a good deal in my work, and that at Stocks I shall be able to see
something of the genuine English country life which I never could
at Haslemere. But we had got to love Haslemere all the same, and it
is an up-rooting."
The little house on Grayswood Hill was indeed loath to let her go. She
went there alone at the end of February, when plain and hill lay steeped
in a flood of spring sunshine. "If only the place had not looked so
lovely yesterday and to-day!" she wrote. "We have been hung in infinite
air over the most ethereal of plains." But when Stocks finally received
her, at midsummer, 1892, she knew in her heart that all was well; that
"something" deep down in her nature "that stands more rubs than anything
else in our equipment" was satisfied--satisfied with the quiet lines of
the chalk hills, with the beechwoods that clothed their sides, and
stretched away, she knew, for miles beyond the horizon; with the
neighbourhood of that ancient life of the soil that surrounded her in
village and scattered farm. She had found her home; she was to live in
it and love it for eight-and-twenty years.