1875—1878
THE OPEN SPACE MOVEMENT
The period recorded in the following letters marks the inauguration of
a movement, which Octavia considered almost as important as that
housing work with which her name is especially connected—the movement
for the preservation of open spaces. It will be remembered that, in
her first efforts to deal with tenement houses, she had been
particularly anxious to secure a house with a garden; and, failing
_that_, she had devoted a large part of her energies to laying out a
playground, and brightening it by May Festivals, in which efforts she
had the hearty co-operation of Mr. Ruskin, who sent his own gardener
to plant the trees.
It was natural, therefore, that she should desire to keep open all
outlets for her poor friends in Marylebone, which would enable them to
enjoy the fresh air and open country.
Hence she became considerably alarmed, when she heard, in 1873, that
some difficulties, which had hindered the destruction of the fields
near the Swiss Cottage, had been removed; and that building plans were
in preparation. The fields were dear to her, not only as the nearest
country outlet for the Marylebone poor; but also as recalling her
childhood, when they formed part of a wide stretch of open country
where she and her sisters had played. She at once threw herself into
the promotion of a scheme for saving these fields from the builder,
and securing them as a recreation ground for the public. She enlisted
the sympathy of Dean Stanley, Mr. Haweis and other well-known
Londoners in the movement; while Mr. Edward Bond and Mr. C. L. Lewes
and other Hampstead residents tried to stave off the encroachments of
the builders from Hampstead. But the agent, who had the building
scheme in hand, when he found that the purchase money was likely to be
raised, succeeded in throwing such difficulties in the way, that the
scheme was defeated; and Fitzjohn’s Avenue rose upon the ruins of the
memories and hopes, which I have described.
About the same time Octavia’s attention was called to the attempt of
some members of the Society of Friends to build over the Bunhill
Fields burial ground; an attempt obviously dangerous to health, and
shocking to the feelings of many whose friends and relations were
buried in the ground. Again, after a struggle, Octavia was defeated in
her attempt to save the whole of the ground.
These defeats convinced her of the desirability of rousing public
opinion to the need of open space and fresh air for the poor; and it
was while she was considering this matter that her sister Miranda
read, to the pupils at Nottingham Place, a paper on the need of
bringing beauty home to the people. This was a scheme, first, for
decorating clubs and hospitals and other institutions used by the
poor; secondly, for bringing first-class music within their reach;
and, lastly, for preserving disused burial grounds and other open
spaces. Octavia was so much impressed with her sister’s suggestions
that she persuaded Miranda to read her paper again before a meeting of
the National Health Society. How much the movement was in advance of
the public opinion of that time was shown by more than one incident.
Even on the very occasion when Miranda read her paper to the National
Health Society a pause followed the reading; and then a lady started
up, and tried to turn away discussion from the subject of the paper by
introducing a reference to some new invention, which she considered
much more important to health than the securing of open spaces could
be. Octavia at once rose, and recalled the audience to the subject of
the paper; and some sympathy was roused in the audience.
But, outside that circle, a chorus of scorn came from comic and
Society papers; and, if mockery could have stifled a movement, this
one would have been nipped in the bud. But cold water sometimes makes
such things grow. Several notable and helpful people came to its
support; and I well remember that one gentleman was stirred, by the
attacks of _Punch_, to send a subscription to the new Society.
[Sidenote: FOUNDATION OF THE KYRLE SOCIETY]
The name of the Man of Ross was chosen as the most fitting, badge of
the new movement, and Her Royal Highness Princess Louise consented to
become the President. Thus the Society which began with a small knot
of friends, meeting at Nottingham Place, became widely useful, and
Kyrle Societies were formed in other parts of the country, while the
London Decorative branch was assisted by such artists as Leighton and
William Morris, and the Musical branch was helped for many years by
Malcolm Lawson.
When a sub-committee was formed for dealing with open spaces, a very
zealous and energetic lady was chosen as Honorary Secretary. She was
full of the wrongs suffered by the poor, in the destruction of their
rights over commons. Octavia was no less impressed with these
grievances; and she took an active share in the work of the Commons
Preservation Society; but she felt that the Kyrle Society had a
different function from that of the larger and more combative body;
and that to secure open spaces, and lay out disused burial grounds,
was a work which could not be joined on to the struggles for legal
rights undertaken by the Commons Preservation Society. As the Honorary
Secretary of the Open Spaces Committee was unable to recognise the
desirability of the separation between these two kinds of work, she
resigned, and I took her place for a time. Like all good work, this
movement led to unexpected consequences; and while much of the
preservation of Metropolitan Open Spaces was afterwards undertaken by
the Metropolitan Boulevards Association, Octavia, as will be shown
later on, took an active part in still wider developments of this and
similar undertakings.
Thus it will be seen that the Open Spaces movement had a great many
branches ... and its growth was well summarised by Octavia in a remark
to her sister Miranda.
When I first began the work, people would say, “I will give money for
necessaries for the poor; but I do not see what they want with
recreation.” Then after a few years, they said, “I can understand poor
people needing amusement; but what good will open spaces do them? And
now everybody recognises the importance of open spaces.”
This change of public opinion was, no doubt, produced by the joint
action of many people; and amongst Octavia’s fellow-workers in this
matter none was more sympathetic and efficient than Mr. (now Sir
Robert) Hunter. He had taken an active part in the formation of the
Open Spaces Committee of the Kyrle Society; as Solicitor of the
Commons Preservation Society, he had been able to further, by timely
advice, many of the movements for securing the legal rights of the
public over various commons and greens; and, while residing in
Lincoln’s Inn Fields, he had been the soul of an attempt (then indeed
a failure, but the prelude to a more successful effort) to persuade
the municipal authorities to throw open the garden of Lincoln’s Inn
Fields to the general public. Indeed, with the possible exception of
Lord Eversley, the open spaces movement owes more to him than to any
other man.
But it will be easily understood that this important movement, even if
it had been always successful, must have added a considerable strain
to that sense of growing responsibility which was produced by the
supervision of the tenants; and when accompanied with the kind of
failures which I have mentioned, it often brought much vexation. And
this period was also marked by the deaths of two of Octavia’s most
valued fellow-workers, Mrs. Nassau Senior (that most lovable and
charming sister of Mr. Hughes) and Mr. Cockerell, a most able and
sympathetic member of the Committee of the Workmen’s Club, in which
Octavia took so deep an interest.
While these and other troubles were already breaking down her
strength, there came the additional trial of that misunderstanding
with Ruskin, to which so much attention has unfortunately been called.
As the correspondence has been published, I do not propose to refer at
length to that painful incident. But I feel bound a little to
anticipate events by saying that we have ample evidence that Ruskin
regretted his hasty words; that he showed his renewed confidence in
Octavia by the manner in which he finally made over to her the
possession of his houses; and that, on the other hand, her old
affection and admiration for him never wavered in spite of that
passing cloud. I may bring the allusion to this episode to an end by
quoting the words which she used in her Letter to her Fellow Workers
in 1899 on Ruskin’s death:
[Sidenote: OCTAVIA’S FEELING TO RUSKIN]
“The earth seems indeed sadder and poorer that such a man lives on it
no more.
“That penetrating sympathy, that marvellous imagination, that
wonderful power of expression, that high ideal of life have not only
blessed his friends, but have left their mark on England.
“To me personally the loss is irreparable. I have cared to think of
the master and friend of my youth, in his lovely home, and to feel
that he was among us still.
“He has passed to the great beyond. All his noblest aspirations are
opening before him, the incompletenesses passed away, the
companionship of the mighty dead around him; the work accomplished,
the love fulfilled, the peace complete, the blessings of thousands
upon him.”
But I have only introduced the subject in this place in order to
emphasise the circumstances of the breakdown in Octavia’s health, and
the interruption to her work, which, as will be seen in the next
chapter, produced so remarkable a change in her life.
February 14th, 1875.
TO MARY HARRIS.
... Hast thou seen that Mr. Cross has brought in his Bill? Thou mayest
think how intensely eager we are over it. I dined at Mr. Kay
Shuttleworth’s on Wednesday to discuss its clauses with him and a few
experienced people, that he might know what to press on the House; and
on Friday Mr. K. S. called together another small company at the Ch.
Org. Soc. to rediscuss matters. They think the bill may be made to work.
They say the omissions are from ignorance, and will be willingly
corrected when pointed out, as everyone wants to work it. I dare hardly
hope; it seems so very near the realisation of much one has wanted so
long. Stansfeld was there, and was so kind, and Mr. Shaw-Lefevre. I am a
great deal in B. Court just now, and right down among the people there,
which is very nice. I am sensible how much I lack swiftly turning
perception, and unfailing gentleness, and a certain cautious reservation
of speech. My only chance among the people is trying to be all right, so
that it mayn’t matter their seeing right thro’ me. I have no powers of
diplomacy; these I don’t regret, but the power of non-expression might
be an advantage. However, I don’t get into great messes somehow; and I
suppose one was made like _this_, to do some particular work in the
world. The people are delightful down there, so responsive, so
trustful.... Dost thou know if ever I write again I shall make a point
of dwelling on Ruskin’s beginning the work? I fancy he feels sadly his
schemes have not succeeded; and they only want the admixture of humdrum
elements to make them into bodies; the soul is all there. His share is
the soul, and this ought to come prominently out.
I enclose the report of Stanley’s sermon, and of Mr. Kay Shuttleworth’s
speech....
I daresay I may feel more courageous after to-morrow, when the
public-house trial comes on. We quite expect to be defeated here, but
hope to win on the appeal. It will be very horrid to-morrow; there is
such strong personal feeling....
Miss Martin, the lady from Leeds who is staying here, is so very nice.
She has great power, and will do the work admirably. She has great
perception of character, and is so much interested in all our people,
poor and rich. It is a real pleasure to see her with the people....
[Sidenote: ARTISANS’ DWELLINGS BILL]
Mr. Cross has accepted nearly all we submitted to him. So far all is
very satisfactory; but on the other hand there is likely to be
considerable delay; also Mr. Fawcett, representing extreme political
economy, and a Mr. Cawley representing vestrydom, are hatching a great
opposition. We are much afraid of clogging amendments being carried; and
no one knows what the Lords will do. I have secured an able and earnest
young supporter for the Bill, in the person of Lord Monteagle, who will
really master the details, and may secure more powerful allies in the
world’s opinion; though I believe in the careful whole-hearted work of
young men really in earnest, much more than in the chance of a few words
from a man of influence. Dost not thou?
I have been much engrossed about Mr. Cross’s Bill this week. I was in
the House on Monday when it was read a second time. Mr. Kay Shuttleworth
and Mr. Lefevre came up and had a long talk with me, and it was very
interesting. I did not learn very much; and tho’ they and Mr. Stansfeld
and Mr. Plunkett and Mr. Rathbone are talking over amendments with me, I
feel as if, now that the matter was well before the House, they and
others were far better judges of what amendments would work, what there
was a hope of carrying, than I am. It was very solemn, tho’; and a thing
I never shall forget. I was sitting quite alone in the gallery belonging
to the Speaker’s wife; it was very late, and she and her friends had all
gone home. The gallery is high up above the House, but one sees and
hears beautifully. I had been listening intently, but, when Mr. Kay
Shuttleworth began to speak, I thought I knew all that he was going to
say, and was leaning back thinking, when suddenly my own name caught my
ear. Mr. S. was speaking of the Macmillan article; and, instead of
quoting dry facts and figures, he read aloud from it the description of
the wonderful delight it gave me to see the courts laid open to the
light and air. And then he read the bit about the Chairman of the Trust
going over the old plans and photographs, and remarking on the changes,
and the longing that arose that someone, someday, in London might be
able to note similar purification. The words recalled vividly the
intensity of the longing, and the wonderfully swift realisation of the
prayer; and a great gush of joy rushed over me. But, besides _that_,
somehow it seemed a blessed thing to have half suggested, and wholly
anticipated the feeling on the part of that bright, promising young man,
and thro’ him to the whole House. One felt so small, so alone and
out-of-sight; and there were thoughts bearing fruit in ways of which one
had never dreamed. I can’t tell how tiny it made me feel. Mr. Kay
Shuttleworth happened to have told me that he had been spending Sunday
in the country, and could not get the subject out of his head, and that
he had re-read the article. I did not hear Mr. Rathbone’s mention of my
work, as I had gone to get some tea; my head was so very bad.
A Miss Martin, a friend of Mr. Estlin Carpenter’s, is coming to stay
with us till Easter, to learn our work, that she may help in the houses
that they are purchasing in Leeds.
I am heartily enjoying my work in B. Court.
[Sidenote: LORD SHUTTLEWORTH AND OCTAVIA’S WORK]
FROM LORD SHUTTLEWORTH TO MR. EDMUND MAURICE.
On the Artisans’ Dwellings Act of 1875.
I was closely associated with Miss Octavia Hill in 1873, during the
inquiry by a committee of the C.O.S. into the whole question of the
dwellings of the working classes in London. It was a remarkable
committee, over which the late Lord Napier and Ettrick presided, and to
which nearly everyone then prominent in the work of improved dwellings
belonged, including such men as Lord Shaftesbury, Sir Sidney Waterlow,
Mr. Hughes (Tom Brown), etc., etc. Mr. Bosanquet was then Secretary of
the C.O.S., and took an active part.
In 1874, with encouragement from Miss Octavia Hill and others, I brought
the subject before the House of Commons, basing my speech a good deal on
the excellent and very practical report of the C.O.S. Committee. In the
debate on my motion, Mr. (now Lord) Cross, who was then Home Secretary,
promised a Bill, which he introduced and passed on the part of Mr.
Disraeli’s Government in 1875—the Artisans’ Dwellings Act. In the
consideration of that Bill Miss Octavia Hill again gave valuable advice;
and when, a few years afterwards (about the year 1880), a committee of
the C.O.S. was appointed to consider the working of the Act, and how far
it should be amended, she and I again worked together upon that
committee, and I remember gratefully the signal help which she then
gave.
Miss Octavia Hill was pre-eminently fitted for contributing an
exceptional amount of practical knowledge, experience, and wisdom at the
meetings of such committees and conferences on a subject which she had
made her own. She would quietly listen to a discussion of some point,
and at last say a few weighty words in her calm, impressive, tactful
way, which would carry with her the general assent of all, or nearly
all, who heard her, and would thus promptly bring the debate to a sound
conclusion.
I think it was in the ’eighties that, in a certain London parish, a
progressive clergyman and his Church Council rather impulsively took up
a housing improvement scheme. Before launching it, they were persuaded
by one of their members to ask Miss Hill’s advice. I was present at the
meeting of the Council which she kindly consented to attend. According
to what, I think, was her habit, she sat quite silent for perhaps an
hour or more, while various members propounded their ideas and sketched
out the scheme. When they had quite finished, she very quietly and
gently, but convincingly, said a few words of common sense which showed
that the scheme, though admirably intended, was unpractical; and from
that moment it ceased to exist. This was an instance of the weight which
she carried, by her tact and wisdom and experience, even in a meeting of
people who, with one or two exceptions, were, I believe, complete
strangers.
Derwent Bank, Boughton, Carlisle,
March 28th, 1875.
TO MRS. N. SENIOR.
The boarding out here is really heart-cheering to see.
What do you think that the Barnetts’ great news was? That they had had a
legacy, and wanted to spend it in rebuilding their worst court
irrespective of making it pay, or waiting for the Bill. Of course I said
by all means; and now, if they can but purchase, I think that it will
give new life to their future there, to see some tangible and radical
reform actually achieved.
[Sidenote: DIFFICULTIES WITH MEDICAL OFFICER]
14, Nottingham Place,
April 19th, 1875.
TO MISS HARRIS.
On Tuesday a batch of orders was issued by Dr. —— which (or rather all
that grow out of that fact) gives me a good deal of trouble,—more I
believe, a great deal, than it ought. I believe that, if I could make up
my mind that I see the right thing pretty distinctly, and can do it and
leave the result, it would be far better; but I am apt to go over and
over the subject, hoping to think out better measures, brooding over it.
I know that the way to succeed is to think perpetually of things, till
one suddenly sees the straight way through the difficulties; but it
becomes, sometimes, very wearing; and it is useless, whenever the only
straight way is that of waiting till the right has time to win the day
by its own innate force. I fancy _that_ is the case here; our action has
to be next to nothing; time, extreme silence, and great patience will
secure the final accomplishment of whatever may be best with regard to
the poor houses. I need not mind if little plans of mine fail wholly;
still less need I tremble if dangers threaten them. There may be fifty
reasons why it may be best for them all to sink to nothing. But it is
not they and their outward forms that I have lived for, but all they are
meant to help to achieve; and this, well thou knows, must succeed if I
and they are annihilated.
Mary, I think the thing I most failed to convey to thee of all I had
wanted thee to know, was the intense blessing that Mama is to us all. I
think I understand her so very much more than I have done all my life;
her sympathy is so delightful; and, now that I am sharing her room, I
have time to tell her the events of the day. I think the sense of life
is a joy to her; while often she puts before me principles bearing on
questions under consideration quite beautifully.
14, Nottingham Place, W.,
April 25th, 1875.
TO MISS HARRIS.
The public-house trial is over; and we won triumphantly and
conclusively, and are very thankful for it. But the spirit of the people
was very dreadful; and it doesn’t augur well for the future work. Fifty
vestrymen and 150 ratepayers signed in favour of the license. Several
vestrymen attended and gave evidence.
Mr. Fremantle was very brave and true-hearted. Sir J. H. was in a
towering rage, and tried to annoy me with things that didn’t touch me.
But it all points to future difficulty. However, I cannot say I am
discouraged. As long as there was hope of peace from explanation and
care, I was full of anxiety; but _now_ we must go straight on; and, if
storm comes, the law is over us all, and what it decrees, we will all
readily do.
Miss Cons, as always when need is great, is very good just now.
[Illustration:
CAROLINE SOUTHWOOD HILL.
Octavia’s Mother.
_From a Photograph by Andrew Whelpdale._
]
April 28th, 1875.
TO MR. COCKERELL.
I see by Saturday’s _Mercury_ the doctor promises another report on B.
Court soon. But I,—well I read Cromwell, and listen to Mr. Bond’s advice
about taking things coolly, and go on steadily with my work, and don’t
trouble much about things. I got a bit of encouragement yesterday, which
_ought_ to keep me up for many a long day. I am paying periodical visits
to all the courts; and I came upon one yesterday, beginning to go quite
after my own heart, like Mrs. Fitch’s in other hands than mine, and not
a very brilliant success yet; but sure to grow; for the volunteer there
was on the most perfect terms of quiet gentle power, and happy
intercourse with the people, noticing, and managing cleaning, repairs,
rents, everything. I am so thankful.
[Sidenote: DEATH OF A MEMBER OF WORKMEN’S CLUB]
May 6th, 1875.
TO MR. COCKERELL.
I wonder whether the news has reached you of Mitchell’s death. We can
hardly realise the thought. He died the next day. The loss to us all
will be heavy, and the pain great. If one had dared to single out the
life which seemed of most value to the corporate life of the court, it
would have been his. We must try to make his death draw us all together;
and we must try to take care of his widow and children in the way which
will be lasting gain to them. I don’t see how yet. Everyone’s heart is
brimming over with sympathy, and they will have enough, and more than
enough perhaps done for them just now. At any rate now money help would
be of little value; and we must leave place too for the friends near him
to do their part, and make the little sacrifices (often so much greater
than ours); and we will come in with strong, quiet, lasting aid to help
her to earn, or something of that kind.
14, Nottingham Place, W.,
May 16th, 1875.
TO MARY HARRIS.
I do not know that I have much that is beautiful or helpful to tell you,
except the natures of people; those are the loveliest things that I see;
and they _are_ lovely—some of them. Janey’s, for instance. I saw her for
a short time yesterday, as I had to be in Battersea to meet Mr. Erskine
Clarke’s district visitors. She is looking better, and spoke with
grateful joy of your letter about the boarding out.
I was much delighted with G. Place, which I went over on Tuesday. Miss
Cons _has_ got it well in hand. I mean I was pleased with her dealing
with the place.
About 1875.
OCTAVIA TO REV. S. BARNETT.
[Sidenote: QUALIFICATIONS FOR COMMITTEE]
I have no suggestions for the Com. or Admin. Com.[74] which would be
capable of being embodied in a report. My engrossing and continuous
thought about them is the hope that they will manage to secure the right
men. But there is no receipt for the selection; and probably the Com.
has not to nominate for election, but will have to recommend methods of
election, numbers, division of work, about all which I am not a
specially good judge. The one thing I should have been saying, had it
pleased you to leave me at my old post, would have been that the
important point was to get the right men, and that they would be found
among those who have worked among the poor, and who have power of
grasping facts. I should have been urging them earnestly to consider
quite solemnly the importance of the duty they have to discharge, and to
put _no_ one on out of politeness, or because they “must,” or because
they have this or that influence, or have given time, or will “feel”; to
let no minor considerations come in; but to concentrate their full force
on the thought “how is this organising of charity, this great work of
caring for our poor to be achieved?” And I should have been adding that,
in my opinion, experience among, or care for, the poor was a _more_
essential qualification for a seat on the Admin. than the other one
power to grasp principles; and for this reason that the knowledge of the
poor will _not_ be gained afterwards at Buckingham St.; but the
principles may be learnt by the mere fact of dealing with large numbers
of bare facts, probably will be learnt there by any men who have it in
them ever to learn them at all. This and a few words about the actual
men to be selected would have been my contribution to the work, had I
been there. But now I feel it is all out of my power to touch, and I
rejoice more than words would say to see how triumphantly it and much
else goes without me. A few words would influence so many things if I
wrote them; but I may not; and so instead I have the privilege of
looking, as if I were dead, to see how they go when I do not speak a
word, and learning first how magnificently they go in the main in the
way I have hoped for so long; and secondly how little it matters that
much goes otherwise than it would, if I wrote ever so small a sentence.
About June 12th, 1875.
OCTAVIA TO MR. LUDLOW.
I have not seen anything of you for many years, nor heard anything of
you lately; but, when I was thinking over the names of people resident
at Wimbledon, who might possibly care to help with a party of four
hundred of my tenants whom I am going to bring down there on Wednesday,
yours naturally suggested itself, as I have some impression that you are
still living there. I do not know that I should have ventured to write,
having no special claim for these my people on you; but, your name
having once occurred to me in relation to the question, I could not help
feeling a wish to ask you just to walk over and see us, if you could
without trouble, some time in the afternoon or evening at or near
Cæsar’s Camp, where we expect to be. I have vivid memories of tailors’
“bean-feasts” long ago, with which those with whom you were working were
associated; perhaps there I then first learned both the great good which
grew out of such association with the people in their joys, and also how
much was needed to make such gatherings more refined in tone, and
gentler and quieter. If, as a child, I learned all this from what I saw,
it was years before it became possible to me to realise what I saw to be
needed. Though the thought of these my present excursions and winter
parties was untraced by me to its germ so long ago, though now my people
are quite unconnected with the Associations and founders of
Associations, it yet remains true that it was the early connection with
that body of “Christian Socialists,” to which much of my present work
must owe its spirit. It had to find its own form, according to the needs
and possibilities of circumstances; but its spirit must have been
influenced deeply by the deeds and words of all that group of men, among
whom it pleased God to lead me, when life was just first presenting its
puzzles to me. The form of much of your work has changed, died down, and
withered, as forms often must; but the principles you were all teaching
do not change; and now that many of them are understood by the younger
generations, now that they who belong to those younger generations are
coming forward so earnestly to work, grateful as I am for their help,
and glad of their sympathy, there always remains to my mind a peculiar
silent, more solemn, link with all who are associated with the earlier
more difficult and lonely efforts of the past. It has pleased God to
alter much since then. The voices that taught us are silent; but His
voice still speaks; and, if He has made of the child who learned so much
of the people (just from being one among them) now the leader of 3,000
tenants, He doesn’t forbid that she should still be a child again, in
thinking over the old days, and better still, in listening to His
teaching.
[Sidenote: LINK BETWEEN PRESENT AND PAST WORKERS]
_re_ Swiss Cottage Fields?
July 19th, 1875.
TO MR. COCKERELL.
Thank you very much for your letter about the city. I saw Mr. Bond
yesterday, and again had a long talk with him about the best way of
proceeding; and we decided that, for the moment, we would let the
big-monied people alone, till we are better worth their notice, and work
among those who cannot give more at the utmost than £25 and £50. I
believe (thank God!) more in nobodies than in “somebodies.”
Tortworth Court, Tatfield, R.S.O.,
Gloucester.
August 3rd, 1875.
TO MRS. SENIOR.
I feel as if you ought to know what we are doing and deeply thinking of;
yet I have been afraid to write to you for fear you should tire yourself
by helping us. Now, however, that “Macmillan” is out, I fancy you are
sure to hear of our work; and also I have increasing longing for the
sense of your sympathy. Do you not know how one turns with longing for
such sympathy, when vistas of effortful work look interminable, and when
so many people “begin to make excuse.” I send you then the papers with
my love; and I hope you will see “Macmillan”; but do not help, except
with loving sympathy, this time, please.
I came down here last night. It is infinitely peaceful, and Lady Ducie
is very sweet and loving; and all is so very quiet. But I feel leaving
my fields so that I could almost cry.[75]
We have got on very well, better than anyone could have expected. We
have collected £9,500 in little more than three weeks; but the vacation
has come upon us with its inevitable pause; and it becomes a question
whether the owners will give us time to try, after it.
How strange it seems to me (does it not to you?) that the momentary
difficulty is to persuade the owners that there is a chance of anyone
(any body of people in London or England), being in the least likely to
be inclined to give the money for a place which must be a blessing to
hundreds now, and hundreds yet to come—a great free gift to their city,
and the chief city of their country. Fields reminding men and women long
lost in the whirl of London, of child days and places near where they
were born; fields where little children can see the wild flowers grow,
as they are beginning to do once more on Hampstead Heath, but nearer
their homes. Let other people look, if they know where, for the
millionaire to do it all at once. Happy for him, if he be honoured to do
such a thing! say I; he will find his buttercups more abidingly powerful
and blessed than his sovereigns; but, as to me, I believe in the hearts
of our poorer people, professional men, ladies with limited incomes, who
know what homes, and families, and the poor are; and who will make for
once an effort and sacrifice, to give £25 or £50 to save a bit of green
hilly ground near a city, where fresh winds may blow, and where wild
flowers still are found, and where happy people can still walk within
reach of their homes. These have come forward, are coming forward; but I
begin to realise how many of them it takes to contribute £1,000.
[Sidenote: PEOPLE OF LIMITED INCOMES BEST HELPERS]
Please God, when October comes, if time is given us, we will begin in
full force. Meantime I must write many letters.
Tortworth Court,
August 9th, 1875.
TO MRS. N. SENIOR.
Many and most loving thanks for your letter, and all your sweet help.
I think of little else but my Fields[76] day and night. We have now
£8,150. The collection goes on slowly, but quite steadily, day by day;
very well I think for the time of year; but we are in great fear that
the owners will not wait.
I wonder owners are not a little awed by possession of so important a
treasure, and do not pause a little, before they use it wholly without
reference to the people.
25, Church Row, Hampstead,
August 19th, 1875.
TO MRS. N. SENIOR.
You will have heard from Charles of the sudden collapse of all our
schemes for the purchase of the fields. The owners withdrew their offer
after five days’ notice. We were led to hope that this notice might be
reconsidered, when the owner returned; but he confirms it, tells us we
must consider the offer absolutely withdrawn, and refused even to
receive a guarantee within a week for the full amount. I think the loss
very great. The spirit of many of the people who helped us was so
beautiful. I shall never forget _that_.
25, Church Row, Hampstead.
August 21st, 1875.
TO MRS. N. SENIOR.
[Sidenote: MEANS OF SAVING OPEN SPACES]
We could almost have cried over your letter, dear, dear, Janey; how
delightful is your joy in doing what is blessed and helpful. I will
think over the generous offer; but I believe now we had better pause,
for sufficient time to learn really which are now the best places
available, and which those most needing space. These fields, which we
knew, being gone, there is no such immediate hurry; and I thought of
seeing a member of the Commons Preservation Society, with whom I have
been in communication, learning what they are doing, and what they see
before them of definite work. Also whether they would care to enlarge
their work, so far as to appoint some one to examine into the provisions
for every part of London, district by district,—the possible central
small open spaces, the nearest available larger ones. If they won’t do
it, I will, or will get it done, and then bend my energies to whatever
direction help is most needed. Isn’t this best? Then, please God, we
shall get that silly clause repealed, which prohibits the proceeds of
the grain dues set aside for open spaces from being applied in the
district of the Metropolitan Board of Works. And, if that is done, we
shall have a fund yearly coming in, and may buy and buy as opportunity
serves. Last year it came to £10,000, and was spent in a Park at
Stratford; but, on most sides, except the east, the Metrop. Bd. of Works
has jurisdiction for fifteen miles round London. Fancy debarring the
City money for open spaces being spent in that area! In short, Janey
dearest, I will assuredly go and see your farm. But I must, I think,
review the whole area, and see where and how space will tell most. And I
ought now at once to go and finish my holiday in Ireland. I go with a
tenfold lighter heart for the love and generosity and sympathy of your
letter; and you need not fear that nothing will be done, because we
don’t act at once. For the moment I am a little broken by the loss; and
it would be difficult to begin just at once to work again; but, please
God, if I live, I will see something efficient done, if power of mine,
first or second hand, will do it; I promise you that.
14, Nottingham Place,
September 22nd, 1875.
TO MRS. EDMUND MAURICE.
Thanks for the _Hampstead Express_. I think it very important you should
know what to say about the Traitors’ Hill[77] question for me if anyone
asks you. I do not purpose pledging myself to any one spot, until I have
carefully prepared a general map, to see where space is most needed. My
impression is that I shall care most (now that the Swiss Cottage Fields
are gone) for small central spaces; but this may not prove to be the
case. I shall work first to secure that £10,000, and the grave-yards,
and shall obtain co-operation from the Com. Pres. Society, or else some
new body appointed _ad hoc_, before I do anything for any one place, as,
in all probability, I shall not, myself, work in so much detail for any.
Those which remain to be secured are, so far as I know them, so much
more on a level in importance, that I can work for them gradually,
quietly and less personally. But I can pledge myself to nothing of any
sort or kind till I have met Mr. Hunter, Mr. Redford, and a few others,
and have explored the subject in its general bearings.
October 3rd, 1875.
TO MISS HARRIS.
What have we to tell thee of brightest and best? First I was most
delighted with what I learnt of the B——’s Court Women’s and Girls’
Institute at a little Committee at Mrs. Hart’s on Tuesday. I knew the
influence was strong and beautiful there; but I had not realised how
very much corporate life there was among the women themselves; _how_
much they felt the Institute their own; how they cared for and worked
for it. I am to help the singing class there myself, this year, to try
to introduce better songs and thoughts in the court. I hope for much
help from musical people; but we want all so very simple. I shall keep
the conduct of all myself.
[Sidenote: IMPROVEMENT IN B. COURT]
Did I tell thee that Miss Peters is engaged to be married? I am very
glad; and yet I am, perhaps, selfish enough not to be able quite to
forget my own loss. However, she stays with us for a year, and is very
sweet.
It is very nice being so much in B——’s Court now. I do like the people
there. B., who was so utterly drunken—has been steady now for many
months; he has such a nice house, and is a leader among the teetotalers.
Quite a large group of girls were gathered round the notice board
announcing the re-opening of the Institute. We used to say that no
notice was of any use; but they were eagerly reading, and asked me to
read to them the new teachers’ names and explain other points;—and this
though there was a counter attraction in the shape of a quarrel.
Good progress is being made in Leeds. They have bought two more blocks
of buildings; Miss Martin and Miss Bakewell are to manage them.
October 3rd, 1875.
TO MR. COCKERELL.
You will be glad to hear that Dr. —— has reported to the Board of Works
as to districts requiring to be dealt with under the Art. Dwell. Bill,
and has not included B——’s Court. I think he has chosen the right spots,
and am glad, tho’ I was prepared for the other course being adopted. How
glad one is if anyone one has suspected does better than one has hoped!
The next letter refers to the Bunhill Fields burial ground.
14, Nottingham Place,
November 21st, 1875.
TO MISS HARRIS.
Thanks for the letter to Mr. Harrison. I hope to make way in the matter;
but it is a little difficult to know how to begin. However Mr. Bond and
I are to see the ground on Wednesday; and, on Saturday, Mr. Lefevre, now
Chairman of the Commons Preservation Society, the Secretary and the
Solicitor are to meet Mr. Bond and me; and then I presume we shall make
a formal application to the “Six Weeks’” Meeting. I long to get the
ground; but though the Local Board will surrender immediately their
seventeen years’ lease, so far as I at present see, there is no chance
of the Quakers doing anything, except selling at full value. We may
manage the cost; but it points to securing churchyards if possible,
which would only entail the cost, very heavy I imagine, of making them
beautiful, not the purchase also. However we shall see: at any rate, it
is a definite bit of ground in a popular poor neighbourhood to be sold;
and the thing is to learn the price, to see whether we can raise it; and
if so, whether it is the best expenditure for the money. Perhaps, if the
Six Weeks’ Meeting can do nothing in the way of generosity, the
application may interest individual members to give. At any rate we must
see. I am full of thought about it all. I wonder if you see the Charity
Organisation Reporter, and noticed the appointment of Mr. Loch as
secretary. Did I tell you that he is engaged to Miss Peters, and so
good? I daresay Miranda has told you of Miss Potter,[78] who has been
staying here. She wants to stay on for, possibly, two or three years.
She is very bright and happy here; extremely capable, and has been
through a good deal in her life, though she is young. She seems to fit
in among us very well.
By the way, dost thou know I have found a motto in George Herbert which
I intend to appropriate, as expressive of the way that I get on now, by
means of my friends? “A dwarf, on a giant’s shoulder, sees further of
the two.”
We have chosen a pretty one for the Girls’ Institute in B. Court—“God
hath oft a great share in a little house.”
[Sidenote: GREAT DUTIES AND SMALL]
14, Nottingham Place,
December 12th, 1875.
TO MISS F. DAVENPORT HILL.
... I do love life and all it brings very deeply, and should like to
live long too, to see the progress of so many things that I care for; I
think a past is as great a help to a life as to an institution. It seems
as if one were bound to live up to it. What I always fear about my own
life is the tendency to excuse myself from small daily duties; yet I am
certain they are the real test of life. I don’t mean that great claims
ought to be sacrificed to small ones, nor that the duties remain the
same for a woman as for a girl. Many small manual duties pass wholly
away; but it is by the small graciousnesses, by the thoroughness of the
out-of-sight detail, that God will judge our spirit and our work. My
difficulty is always to secure this exquisite thoroughness, which alone
seems to make the work _true_, and yet to delegate it. However, I learn
gradually how to overlook and test it better and better; and I gather
round me an ever larger, more capable, and more sweetly attached body of
fellow-workers.
As to the gracious thoughtfulness for others, and silent self-control
and sweet temper, I never had much gift for them; and I do fear that,
deeply as I honour them, and hard as I strive to live up to my ideal, I
still fail very decidedly,—which is wrong. I used to think that time
would soften passionate engrossment, and leave me leisure to perceive
the little wants of others; but I think I pant with almost increasing
passionate longing for the great things that I see before me.
We are getting on about the open spaces gradually, and, I think, surely;
but there is no need to trouble anyone yet, till those we have in view
are more definitely arranged about. It is a great joy to me that
something will be done. Will you be interested I wonder, in the enclosed
letter? My sister[79] wrote it for our pupils, past and present; but I
was so delighted with it, that I took possession of it, and printed it
for private circulation. Though it is only a week old, it is meeting
with the warmest response, so that I fancy we shall have to let it
become something larger and more public. I want our Clubs, Institutes,
school-rooms, when we have our parties there, and the outsides of our
churches and houses, to be brighter.
May 22nd, 1876.
FROM RUSKIN.
What time, I wonder, will it take, before we fairly encounter the
opposite tide, wave to wave—you with your steady gain—the Enemy with his
steadier and swifter ruin? When is the limit to be put to the
destruction of fields?[80]
[Illustration:
MIRANDA HILL.
_From a Photograph by Maull and Fox._
]
[Sidenote: RUSKIN ON THE GROWING EVIL OF LONDON]
_June 8th, 1876._
FROM RUSKIN.
My question, a very vital one, is, whether it really never enters your
mind at all that all measures of amelioration in great cities, such as
your sister’s paper pleads for, and as you rejoice in having effected,
may in reality be only encouragements to the great Evil Doers in their
daily accumulating Sin?
Venice, shortest day, 1876.
FROM RUSKIN.
I have received to-day your letter, with its beautifully felt and
written statement. It comes to me on my birthday to the Nuova Vita; this
day last year being the one on which I got signs sufficient for me that
there was hope of that life; and I am very thankful to know that I have
been thus of use to you, and that you feel that I have; a much mistaken
sense of a separation between us in essential principles having been for
two or three years growing upon me, to my great puzzlement and pain; so
that this paper is a very moving and precious revelation to me.
June 24th, 1876.
FROM RUSKIN.
I was greatly delighted by your long kind letter; _and_ it is much more
than a delight to me, _and_ it is a most weighty assistance in my
purposes, that you can take this house[81] and put it to use....
I wanted to say something more about your and Miranda’s work.[82] I
cannot say more, however, than that, whether in the best direction or
not, it cannot but be exemplary and fruitful.
14, Nottingham Place,
May 28th, 1876.
TO MARY HARRIS.
Miss Cons has taken supervision of the Drury Lane district from her own
house, Mr. Westroper being wholly, and her sister partly, told off to
her, and several volunteers; if it works well, it will be grand. The
Bishop’s meeting doesn’t bear fruit in the distinct way that I had
hoped; the visitors won’t organise before they come, but come singly,
which means that much more indirect work will have to be done before we
get our organisation. However all the result is good, as far as it goes.
Miranda’s paper[83] was so very beautiful. I do wish it had been heard
by a larger audience. The room was quite full, however; and the hearers
were just those in whom the thoughts would be likely to bear abundant
fruit.
June 2nd, 1876.
TO WM. SHAEN.
I am writing to ask you whether you will do me a service, which will
really be a considerable one. It is to take the chair for me at a
meeting of the Liberal Social Union on the 29th of this month, when I am
going to read a paper on the subject of Charity. The people are all
strangers to me; and I gather that their spirit is not one with which I
shall feel very heartily in tune. It is a large gathering, and may be
difficult to keep to the consideration of what we _can_ do, instead of
what we _can not_ do. I am extremely anxious about this latter point. It
is so easy to denounce what has been done, so difficult patiently to
consider what can be done; and I don’t want the opportunity to be lost
of doing this. It will depend more on the tone of the meeting than
anything. Personally, too, it would be a comfort to feel in sympathy
with the chairman, and full confidence in him, which I certainly should
do very completely if you would kindly fill the office. The chairmen
suggested by no means seemed to me satisfactory; and I was delighted
that the letters, which named them, contained also the proposal that I
should select one. I looked all down the list of members; and there is
not a single one whom I know, except yourself, whom I should like for
the post. I feel the moment an important one. Unless we get volunteers
in greater abundance, and _that_ very rapidly, the Charity Organisation
Society must suffer very considerably from the necessarily hard routine
of official work compared to spontaneous work; and I am trying to do
what in me lies to secure the help of as many people as possible. Among
the members of the L.S.U. I believe we should find the wisdom, and
freedom from parochial work; and, if we could but stir up their living
sympathy with the poor, we might do much.
[Sidenote: CONFIDENCE IN MR. SHAEN]
14, Nottingham Place, W.,
July 17th, 1876.
TO MISS OLIVE COCKERELL.
I sent you a little brooch, which I want you to wear in remembrance of
the day you were baptised, and of the words which we then heard
together. Ask Mama for a piece of her hair to put in the brooch; and,
when you wear it, think of her love. It is a funny little old-fashioned
brooch, but I thought it was very pretty; and I liked it, because it
looked as if it had a history. I thought you might like it for this
reason too. But I am afraid it will not begin to speak to you, like
those delightful things in Andersen’s stories. If only it could, what a
quantity it might tell you! I wonder whom it belonged to; and whether it
has been given, with words of loving hope, ever before, to any one; and
whether the hope was realised or not. Does it not look as if its pearls
might once have been tears, but had lost their passionateness, and had
become quiet, like old people’s tears, that are slow and still and deep,
and much sadder, often, than young people’s, though more beautiful in
power of reflecting? What do the old people’s tears reflect when they
have lived good lives? Oh, Ollie dear, they reflect all the things which
are round them, or have happened to them; and each looks lovelier than
the other; some rose-coloured, some gold, some blue like the heaven,
some white like snow. We may all be glad to have tears like these, set
like jewels in a crown, to make our lives look royal.
This old-fashioned brooch, too, seemed to me like a good christening
present, because those words that we heard have a history, like
it;—those words, I mean, about your being signed with the sign of the
Cross, in token that hereafter you should not be ashamed to be Christ’s
soldier and to fight under His banner against the world, the flesh, and
the devil. Many a mother, Ollie, like yours, has heard them prayed over
her little girl, and has wondered whether, when she grew to be a woman,
she would remember them. Many a father has listened to them, asking for
strength to bring up his child, so that she shall live as she ought.
Many loving friends have stood by and prayed for the child, for her own
sake, for the sake of the parents who love her, and for the sake of the
great God who loves her even more. And the little girl has grown up, and
lived her life, and had her history. And the same beautiful old words
have been prayed for others; and, whether they have remembered them, and
lived as if they were true, or whether they have fallen away, still the
memory of the words has always borne witness to those who loved the
children, that they really did belong to God, and that they had no
business to be mean or cowardly or untruthful or anything bad. If the
children forgot all this, and did wrong, still there was hope that they
would return and be good some day; for that they were under God’s own
care, and that He wanted to gather them under His wings.
[Sidenote: MEANING OF BAPTISMAL PROMISES]
We, who were all together that day, asked for you, my child, that you
might have courage to do right. We know God means _that_ courage for
you, that He will give it to you. Remember this all your life long; and
remember too, the love which gathered round you as a child.
I send you a few words, more precious than any pearls; for they contain
the wish of a great and good man for his little girl. They are very much
like what we might have said to you; only that they are set in a sweet,
solemn, and lovely way, which will make you remember them better.
Take them, dear, as the expression of what all who love you would say;
and let them ring in your ears in the coming years. I, your loving
godmother, Octavia Hill, write them on the next page for you.
The lines appended are Kingsley’s poem beginning:—
“My fairest child, I have no song to give you.”
14, Nottingham Place,
July 23rd, 1876.
TO MISS HARRIS.
Our failure this year has been on the open space question. Dora will
tell thee about the Friends. Not that they stand alone; the matter is
one on which much preliminary work has to be done. People don’t know
about the importance yet. It is so sad; for the places are going for
ever so rapidly. I have written, by Mr. Lefevre’s request, to _The
Times_.
January 28th, 1877.
TO MRS. HILL.
Bunhill Fields contract for sale has fallen through, and the Quakers are
again considering the matter. I hear hopeful news about Lincoln’s
Inn.[84]
B——’s Court is going so beautifully; every room and shop let; the people
so happy and good; the clubs full of life; the finances so satisfactory.
14, Nottingham Place,
February 7th, 1877.
TO MRS. GILLUM.
... The fact is my time is so utterly engrossed that it is absolutely
true that I have not time to see even old friends quietly, unless under
special circumstances warranting an exception. It is strange, but the
strain of responsible schemes under my continuous charge, the thought
necessary for dealing with all the new large plans before me, and
starting them wisely and well, the ever-flowing stream of persons with
whom I have to make appointments on business, and the incessant buzz
around me of my assistants and immediate fellow-workers, leave me in a
state of utter exhaustion on a Saturday night, which makes perfect
stillness the only possibility for Sundays. Even the walks are often
taken up by the companionship of persons who want to talk over with me
this plan or that; or to submit to me some difficulty. I cannot tell you
how difficult it is to see anything even of Mama and Miranda, and as to
Gertrude and Minnie I rarely see them, even if they come here. It is
well for me that in the course of work I do naturally see many of my
friends; and that I do love and care very deeply for many of my fellow
workers. Else I don’t quite know what would have happened to me by now.
[Sidenote: PRESSURE OF WORK]
I know you will begin to tell me I ought to give something up. And I
could only answer my whole life is giving up of work. I part with bit
after bit often of that I care for most, and _that_ week after week; but
it is the nearest of all duties, added to the large new questions, in
which a little of my time goes a very long way, which thus engross me.
Such, for instance, as those I have now in hand—the purchase for Lord
Pembroke of £6,000 worth of houses for the poor. He gives money, pays
worker; one of my fellow workers trains her. Mr. Barnett sends me names
of courts; but the seeing the spot, its capabilities, value, the best
scheme to improve it, getting surveyors’ and lawyers’ reports, I must
do. I have six such schemes in hand now, small and large together at
this moment. Then I had to see Sir James Hogg, the chairman of the
Metrop. Bd. of Works, on Tuesday about the Holborn rebuilding under the
Art. Dwell. Bill. I have obtained leave from Sir E. Colbroke to plant
the Mile End Road with trees. I have all the negotiations with the
vestry to make. The C.O.S. takes much of my time, tho’ I have left all
our local works to others. Then all the time I have 3,500 tenants and
£30,000 or £40,000 worth of money under my continuous charge; and,
though I only see my people in one court face to face as of old, and the
ordinary work goes on smoothly, yet even the _extraordinary_ on so large
a scale takes time. Questions of rebuilding, of construction, of changes
of collectors, of introduction of workers to one another,—I assure you
the exceptional things I can hardly refuse to do (so large is the result
from half an hour’s work), use up my half hours nearly every one. I do
read, I must, in holidays, when I go right away out of reach of frequent
posts daily on those blessed Sundays, sometimes the last thing at night,
that I may sleep better. I now and again catch (as if for breath) at a
picture gallery; but so rarely, and only suddenly, when I see I can.
Venice,
February 18th, 1877.
FROM RUSKIN.
MY DEAR OCTAVIA,
I have your beautiful letter with account of donations in print, and am
greatly delighted with it. You will find yourself, without working for
it, taking a position in the literary, no less than in the
philanthropic, world. It seems to me not improbable that the great
powers and interests you are now exciting in so many minds, will indeed
go on from the remedial to the radical cure of social evils: and that
you have been taking the right method of attack all along....
Ever affectionately and gratefully yours,
J. RUSKIN.
[Sidenote: DEATH OF MRS. NASSAU SENIOR]
Derwent Bank, Great Broughton, Carlisle,
March 21st, 1877.
TO MR. COCKERELL.
Did you know Mrs. Nassau Senior?... I sit waiting for the telegram that
shall tell me that she is gone from among us. I feel stunned; for I had
large hope from her vigorous constitution; and now this relapse is
strange. She was, among my many friends, one of the noblest,
purest-hearted, bravest to accept, for herself and all she loved, pain,
if pain meant choice of highest good; with an ardent longing to serve, a
burning generosity, which put us all to shame. Moreover she loved me, as
few do; and I her; and, when I think that I can go to her no more, I
dare not think of what the loss will be. But neither dare I grieve; she
seems too high, too near, too great, to grieve for or about; the silence
will be terrible, but if one keeps one’s spirit true and quiet, and in
tune with the noblest part of the absent loved ones, strange voices come
across the silence, convictions of how they feel, and what they would
say, if they could, to our listening hearts; only I know this and all
things come straight to us from One Who cares for us; that His truth,
somehow, the fact He has allowed to be, is best; and it is a help so to
have loved Truth thro’ all one’s life, that, when she veils herself in
darkest guise, we dare not turn from her....
I am busy about Quaker’s Burial Ground, and Archbishop’s meeting and
other things.
Derwent Bank,
March 27th, 1877.
TO MRS. EDMUND MAURICE.
I have replied to Mr. L. and Fawcett pretty much in full ... and
reiterate my own strong conviction that the railway is not needed, that
it will spoil the Heath’s beauty and need not increase accessibility;
compare the erection of a station to any which might be erected in
Kensington Gardens on the same plea; state my own opinions strongly, and
“let it work.” You will judge whether to do more. I am doing my little
best—which means many fruitless letters about Bunhill Fields, the
Archbishop’s meeting, ... and my poor Lambeth. It is unfruitful work so
far; but all things must have a season of sowing, and the reaping must
come some day. Numbers of people, too, are doing their best to help,
which is beautiful.... I have, you see, so very much of many kinds in my
life.
A letter on the opening of B. Court Club on Sunday.
April 13th, 1877.
TO MR. COCKERELL.
I think, as I live so very near, and as my life is so much in my own
hands to plan, so that I can (and I _will_) rest on other days, that I
will, if I am better and return, take up some small bit of work on a
Sunday, afternoon, down there, or perhaps get the girls to come to me in
the evening. My life seems meant for this, if for anything; only the
worst is that I seem not to have that glad bright sympathy with young
things, which makes some of my friends able to make such classes a real
joy to the girls. However, I will try—or try to try.
[Sidenote: ADMIRATION FOR ST. CHRISTOPHER]
14, Nottingham Place,
July 7th, 1877.
TO MR. COCKERELL.
... I rather thought of “St. Christopher’s Buildings” if the name must
be changed. I’m very fond of St. Christopher. His early history, less
known than the later parts, is to me very beautiful; and, associated in
my mind with B. Crt., the way he learnt that the good thing was the
strong thing, seems to me very grand. And he learnt it by service and
bearing too. The world would fancy it was named after some old church;
and I should hear the grand old legend in the name. Is it too fantastic
a name? Do you know the early part of St. Christopher’s life, I wonder?
I think in B. Crt. we want all to be reminded that the devil is himself
afraid when he really sees the good thing. Also I like St. Christopher’s
respect for his own physical strength.... Everyone is so kind. I think I
have a magnificent set of friends. As to Mrs. Shaen and Lady Ducie they
really are like angels. I hardly knew Mrs. Shaen’s height of nature till
now, and her expressiveness makes her a great delight; while Lady
Ducie’s magnificent silent sympathy, and that exquisite depth of
tenderness of hers, are so very beautiful. The servants too, and the
children, and the people who come in and out to help, and are not very
near,—their silent little acts of thoughtful kindness touch me often
very much. I ought to be so very full of thankfulness and joy.
No date. Probably 1877.
TO MARY HARRIS.
I cannot tell you what important work we have in hand. We are restoring
and re-establishing a provident dispensary here. It implies an immense
deal of thought, judgment, money. Mr. Crowder is quite the leader in it
all. I am quite proud of him.... Then we were laying deep foundations
for Mr. Hughes’ future success.[85] This week we have our blind concert
at which 660 tenants also will be present.
I went over the new buildings in B. Court on Wednesday. They really are
beautiful. It does one’s heart good to see them. I think Lord Ducie must
be delighted.
August 22nd.
TO MRS. SHAEN.
Everyone falls in with my plan for the little orphans,[86] and I am
trying to place them in the village where Miss Harris lives. Boarding
out is most successfully carried on there. Dear Janey came and stayed
there and saw the houses. My former pupils would watch the children for
me, and, if I go there, I should see them myself.
* * * * *
Not dated.
MRS. HILL TO MRS. EDMUND MAURICE.
Octa arrived safely yesterday in perfect enthusiasm about her visit and
certainly better for it. She dined in the evening at Lord Monteagle’s,
and found Fawcett quite opposed to the Bill. She talked with him at
dinner and afterwards, and I believe quite altered his views. In wishing
her good-bye he said he owed to her a most interesting and delightful
evening, and he was glad to have met her. He apologised to Lady
Monteagle for having engrossed the conversation, and kept it on this
topic; he hoped to meet her again, and not be so absorbed.
[Sidenote: OCTAVIA’S BREAKDOWN]
Saturday (1877).
MRS. HILL TO MRS. EDMUND MAURICE.
A change has come o’er the spirit of our dream. Octa has seen Dr.
Hughlings Jackson three times; and Lady Ducie has seen him once; and he
insists, in a way we cannot gainsay, that Octa shall _at once_ cease
work. She is going abroad, but we don’t yet know where—and is organising
work in the houses to go on without her;—all the other work must of
course take its chance in other hands,—those in which it now is.
Dr. H. Jackson thinks she will ultimately quite recover, and says she
must have immense strength to have gone on all these months.
December 7th, 1877.
OCTAVIA TO MISS LEE, NOW MRS. HUDDY.
Believe me the work you have done for me in B. Court during the past
year has been the greatest consolation to me. It often sits heavily on
my heart to think how much real deep personal work goes undone in the
courts, while I am called away, or which I am not fitted to do; and,
when I see that you and such as you are taking it up, I feel so
thankful. I know that _that_ is the work which is of deep and true
value.