CHAPTER VI

FRANCIS THOMPSON

I have had a pleasant week at Clouds, and am to stay on to the 25th, a

house full of children, relations, and friends, busy, too, indexing my

“Secret History,” and writing a programme of new Egyptian policy for the

“Manchester Guardian.”

“_19th April._—Things are going well in Egypt, Cromer’s breakdown in

health has resolved itself according to the ‘Daily Telegraph’ into ‘an

attack of indigestion, which has prevented his taking his usual

nourishment.’ It has not prevented his attending a public luncheon

party, or accepting an engagement to deliver a farewell speech at the

Opera House at Cairo. What rot it all is, and now Fox-Bourne (of the

Aborigines Protection Society) writes that the Egyptian Committee has

decided not to oppose a parliamentary grant to him of money, or honours.

I have suggested his being raised to the dignity of Duke of Denshawai.

“Talking about the Anglo-French Entente with Percy Wyndham he tells me

that the agreement was signed here at Clouds, in the East Room, the

three signatories being Arthur Balfour, Lansdowne, and his son George.

This adds to the interest of what George told me about it last year,

viz., that it was agreed upon by a very small inner Cabinet of the

Cabinet, and that they understood it as a bar to anything in the way of

annexation or permanent retention of Egypt as a British possession. It

was signed during the Easter recess of 1904, which Arthur always spends

at Clouds.

“Percy is much troubled at Asquith’s new Budget, which increases the

death duties on fortunes of over £150,000; I don’t think myself it much

matters. All it means is that the very great houses will have to reduce

their scale of domestic expenditure, and live in a smaller way. He feels

himself over-housed at Clouds, and I, too, personally find myself much

happier at Newbuildings where I can live in a quite small way, than I

was at Crabbet.

“_22nd April._—Pamela Tennant is here with sundry children. Among them

is a boy of nine (Bimbo), who has written some good verses. His mother

recited some of these to me, especially a Blakian rhyme addressed to

her, which I thought excellent. In the afternoon George arrived. I think

I have persuaded him that mine is a wiser view of Egyptian things than

Cromer’s. We have talked also about Ireland, as to which he talks more

and more in a Home Rule sense, not as liking it, but as a necessity. He

says it ought to be complete Home Rule on the plan of a self-governing

Colony, giving the Irish full command of their finances, their police,

and their customs duties, and reserving for England only their army and

navy, and their Foreign relations. He would like also to reserve some

special privilege as to the enlistment of soldiers. Ireland should take

over responsibilities incurred on her behalf by the Imperial Government,

especially in regard to land purchase. He scouts all idea of ‘a half-way

house,’ which he said would settle nothing. He approves, or half

approves, my publishing my Egyptian memoirs, as they attack the Liberal

party, not his own. I have written to Madame Adam about its production

in French at Paris.

“To-day I read aloud the whole of the Song of Solomon from a MS. copy

Miss Offer has made for me. It is the first of all the love poems in the

world, and I would sooner have written it than the whole of the rest of

literature. How it got into the Canon of Holy Scripture is a puzzle, for

it is pure sexual passion without the least trace of religious

sentiment, all the more beautiful for that. George showed me some new

verses he has written in the manner of Ronsard. Good, if not quite first

rate.

“_23rd April._—The ‘Pall Mall’ of last night contains in the largest

type an announcement of my play ‘Fand,’ having been performed at the

Abbey Theatre at Dublin with great success. I never was more astonished,

as when I saw Lady Gregory last she told me it was put off _sine die_,

and that she would let me know when it would be given. It is only in

Ireland, I suppose, that a play could be performed for the first time

and the author know nothing about it.

“_24th April._—Reading poetry all the morning, and in the afternoon to

Summerleas, the most beautiful spot imaginable, shut in with thorn trees

white with blossom, and May trees coming into leaf, blackbirds singing,

and wood pigeons, and yaffles.

“_25th April._—The ‘Manchester Guardian’ has printed my article on a new

_régime_ for Egypt, with a leading article recommending it strongly.

Things look more favourable for liberty on the Nile than has been the

case for twenty years.

“_27th April._—Mustapha Kamel publishes a manifesto in the Paris

‘Figaro’ on the lines of mine in the ‘Manchester Guardian,’ demanding a

Parliament and a native administration for Egypt. Among the appointments

gazetted in connection with Cromer’s resignation is that of young

Errington to be Private Secretary to Hardinge at the Foreign Office. It

was part of the bargain proposed to Cromer four years ago if he would

resign, that Gorst was to succeed him at Cairo, and act there as warming

pan to Errington who was to have the reversion of the Cairo Agency when

high enough up in the service. This looks like a step in the intrigue.

“_4th May._—There has been an outburst of agitation at Cairo. The whole

Arabic Press refuses to bid Cromer a friendly good-bye. Gorst has

arrived in Egypt, but the Nationalists are abstaining from either praise

or blame of him till he shows his hand; in this they are wise. There

have been riots at Lahore and Rawal Pindi indicating that the Indian

question is also coming on.

“_6th May._—Cromer has given proof of his ‘genuine ill health’ by making

a great speech in the Opera House at Cairo, a farewell speech of self-

glorification. The secret of his policy, he said, had always been to

‘speak the truth.’ Only three Egyptians, however, as far as is reported,

were there to support him, among a mass of strangers, Mustapha Fehmy,

Riaz, and Saad Zaghloul. He is confident on this showing that the mass

of the Egyptians like him, and that if they don’t now they will some

day.

“_9th May._—I have been for a week in London. George Wyndham came to

dine with me and Mark Napier, and we were very merry. George was in one

of his communicative moods, and told us the whole history of how he had

financed his Irish Land Bill, and how he had stopped the Somali war, and

how it was certain there would be war with Germany, perhaps in five

years, perhaps in thirty, and we discussed Egypt and India, and the

whole world round, and George Curzon, and a number of other interesting

things, past, present, and to come.

“_10th May._—There have been great doings at Lahore, the town invaded by

some hundreds of ryots with bludgeons, Englishmen insulted in the

streets, and the military called out. Also native agitators have been

arrested by _lettres de cachet_, and deported untried by order of the

immaculate Morley. Morley is just the weak-kneed administrator to resort

to ‘firm measures,’ and we shall see him using all ‘the resources of

civilization,’ practiced in Russia. On Monday Cromer is to return home

in triumph: I have written to Redmond, calling on him to oppose the vote

of thanks the Government is to bring forward, but his answer says

neither yes nor no.

“_12th May._—Rivers Wilson, whom I saw to-day, is open-mouthed about

Cromer whom he calls an imposter. Cromer is to arrive from Egypt to-

morrow and be met by Campbell Bannerman, Grey, and the Prince of Wales,

and to be received by the King.

“_13th May._—Questions are to be asked about the arrest of Lajpat Rai in

India, I shall be interested to see whether Redmond and the Irish

members take part in these. The present is a crisis in the affairs of

the Empire and the Irish party will have to take sides, with or against

liberty in the East. The evening papers give accounts of Cromer’s

arrival at Victoria Station, a great show of official welcome but no

street enthusiasm; the earliest arriver at the station, Moberly Bell!

“_14th May._—With Meynell to see the Academy pictures. He is an art

critic and also has much to tell about the private life of the painters;

Sargent is the especial object of his admiration. The ladies he paints,

according to Meynell, generally bore him so that he is obliged to retire

every now and then behind a screen and refresh himself by putting his

tongue out at them. He has made an exception, however, to this practice

in the case of Mrs. Sassoon, of whom there is a really fine portrait by

him this year with another almost equally good of a lady in plain white,

without jewels, a much prettier woman, but she, too, bored him. He

paints nothing but Jews and Jewesses now and says he prefers them, as

they have more life and movement than our English women. With the

exception of these two portraits I saw little of any great merit in the

show, though Meynell tried hard to make me admire some of his

favourites. I have an experience now of just fifty years of Royal

Academies and find the general level lower than formerly, especially in

the matter of colour, but the two Sargents are quite first rate.

“_20th May._—Bill Gordon came to see me—dying, I fear, poor fellow, of

consumption and will hardly see the year out. We had a long talk about

Egyptian affairs. Among other interesting things he told me the story of

his uncle’s first disagreement with Cromer. This was in ’78 or ’79 when

the Khedive, Ismaïl, had sent for him to Khartoum to confer with Lesseps

about his finances. Gordon and Lesseps both advised suspending a half

year’s coupon which would have enabled Ismaïl to tide over his

difficulties, but Baring opposed it and being supported by the Bond-

holding interest prevailed. Baring was new then in Egypt and affected to

ignore Gordon’s experience and they interchanged words in consequence.

Cromer was always from this time opposed to Gordon and continued his

ill-will to him, Bill, notably on the occasion of his retirement from

the Egyptian service. He spoke strongly of the injustice done to Egypt

while reconquering the Soudan, through the work of the Egyptian army,

and then annexing half the sovereignty of the country to England, while

saddling Egypt with the expense. They had even tried when Khartoum was

retaken to charge the cost of the English Union Jacks hoisted there on

the Egyptian treasury, and he cited several instances of jobbery in the

interests of English firms. He is delighted at Cromer’s downfall.

“_21st May._—Called on Mrs. Belloc in their new house at Shipley, of

which they have made quite a habitable place. The principal room had

been used as a shop, but is now again the parlour, the little orchard

and garden are nice, and the windmill is an attraction with its view of

the church and village, a most enjoyable little property.

“_22nd May._—The Dublin Convention has voted unanimously against

Birrell’s new Irish Councils Bill. I am doubly glad of it, both because

I do not believe in any halfway house to Home Rule, and because the

rejection will leave Redmond’s hands freer to oppose the Government on

Indian and Egyptian affairs.

“_26th May (Sunday)._—The political arrests in India continue. Lajpat

Rai has been deported to Burmah, exactly as they deport suspected people

to Siberia in Russia. Jemal-ed-Din always used to tell me these

arbitrary deportations were an Anglo-Indian practice, but Anglo-Indians

denied it. It is grand to see Morley at the work.

“_29th May._—Chapel Street. Lady Gregory came to luncheon, in terrible

trouble about her plays. She had gone to Italy to get away from the

worry, with Yeats and her son, and had engaged to bring out ‘The

Playboy’ with other pieces at Oxford and in London but the Censor

interfered and she was telegraphed for to come back. Birrell, however,

to whom the case was referred, withdrew the Censor’s opposition. I am of

opinion she would do better to withdraw the play, but she has others to

consult and Yeats is obstinate.

“_1st June._—Newbuildings. Lady Gregory is in worse trouble than ever.

The Editor of the ‘Freeman’ has written threatening her with new

displeasure if she persists with ‘The Playboy’ in England, and I fear

her theatre will be altogether boycotted. I advise her to submit to

Irish opinion, but though she admits that it was a mistake to produce

the play, she says it is too late now to withdraw it. The worst of it is

that she is already boycotted personally on account of it at Coole, the

Local Council forbidding the school-children to go to her house, or even

to accept cakes or presents of any kind from her; it is the Sinn Fein

that has done it.

“She told me an interesting fact of past history connected with Layard’s

life at Constantinople and his secret despatch against the Sultan which

Granville published. The Sultan’s mind had been set against Layard’s by

someone and, at an audience, though they had been close friends, Abdul

Hamid behaved in such a way as to show that he feared Layard would

attack him. This was the occasion of the secret despatch being written.

It cost Layard the peerage he aspired to, for Lord Salisbury had

promised it, but the Queen refused, saying that no ambassador ought to

write in such terms of the sovereign to whom he was accredited. Lady

Gregory knows this, as Sir William (her husband) was intermediary in the

affair of the peerage.

“_4th June._—My ‘Secret History’ is out, I received a first copy this

morning. I am sending copies of it to Bannerman, Grey, Churchill, Gorst,

Kaiser Wilhelm, and Roosevelt, as also to Eddy Hamilton and Rivers

Wilson.

“_10th June._—Called on the Lucases at Thakeham and found Father Tyrrell

there, my ex-Jesuit friend, with Miss Petre and Mrs. Urquhart.

“_11th June._—Cockerell, who has been in Paris arranging for a French

edition of my ‘Secret History,’ writes an amusing account of a visit he

paid Mme. Juliette Adam at her country house, the Abbaye de Gif. He

says, _5th June_:

“‘Madame Juliette proposed an encounter yesterday afternoon and Geoffroy

kindly agreed to go as my protector. She lives in a lovely valley, an

hour by train from Paris. The house also capable of being made very

beautiful, but I grieve to say that her taste in pictures and furniture

is execrable. However, she received us with great kindness and promised

to do all possible to make the French edition known, but she says you

must not expect the sale of it to extend beyond a small circle. Mustapha

Kamel wrote a book which nobody would read and which has made Perrin

(the publisher) a little shy of books on Egypt. When we had discussed

the matter for a quarter of an hour with Juliette and her friend and

contemporary La Comtesse X, enter _à gauche_ Le Colonel Marchand, his

arms full of yellow broom. He is the most stagey Frenchman imaginable,

very jerky and jack-in-the-boxey and with a furious military air. He

covered me with compliments in a moment, mistaking me for the

illustrious author of the “Secret History” and when these had had time

to run off me we engaged in an exciting discussion about the politics of

the world. Madame Adam and the brave Colonel unite in unbounded

admiration and fear of England and English diplomacy. _Le Roi Edward

VII_ is the subtlest beast of the field that ever was created. He has

outwitted everyone and has _dindonné_ France into an alliance which will

probably cost her another war with Germany. Never was England so strong

and unassailable as now, etc., etc., etc., hammer and tongs for an hour

and a half. I interjected remarks in my execrable demi-French, most of

which were understood without a smile. Geoffroy was very silent as he

knows even less of politics than I. We left after tea in a rollicking

humour.’

“_15th June._—Prince Mohammed Ali, the Khedive’s brother, came down to

see the horses, bringing with him Saadullah Pasha Yusri, and Yusuf Bey

Sadyk, son of the old Mufettish, whom Ismaïl murdered. I found all of

them loud against Cromer, especially in connection with the Denshawai

case. The Prince is far more intelligent than at first sight appears,

and his political views seem quite sound.

“_16th June._—Called on Mrs. Belloc with whom I had an interesting talk

about Father Tyrrell and Catholic reform. Later wrote the heads of a

speech for Willy Redmond to make in opposing the Cromer vote, his

brother John having suggested it.

“_21st June._—A young Indian, a Hindoo, called. He told me that recent

events, and especially Morley’s violent dealings with Lalla Lajpat Rai

had sent the moderate reformers into the extremist camp. They had lost

all hope now of converting Englishmen of any party to the cause of

Indian Home Rule and were preparing for a revolution which alone could

free the country from English officialdom. Their plan was to make

Government impossible by strikes and boycotts. The example of the

Japanese had given them courage and there were great numbers ready to

sacrifice even their lives for the freedom of their country.

“_30th June._—My book seems making its way. Willy Redmond has announced

that he will oppose the Cromer vote, which is to be for £50,000. He has

written to tell me this and I have sent him the draft of a speech for

the occasion. He ‘has talked the matter over,’ he says, ‘with our young

men here and there will be strong opposition.’

“I hear that my book is beginning to be talked about in London as ‘very

mischievous.’ I expect the opposition to the Cromer vote will about

finish me in polite society; however, I was prepared for this.

“_13th July._—My play ‘The Bride of the Nile’ has been acted here, at

Newbuildings, with great success. Margaret Sackville took the part of

Belkis and did it admirably, far better than her part of Fand last year.

She had clothed herself in a lovely light garment of white and gold,

deepening in the skirts to orange, with strings of beads and long

gossamer sleeves. Her recitation of the song, ‘If I forget,’ was

perfect, given with the guitar accompaniment of one Allen Booth from

London, an excellent little man who had composed it for the occasion.

But this was surpassed by her dance, a real Oriental one, quite the most

beautiful I ever saw. Dorothy, of course, was Jael, in which part she

too was perfect. She looked lovely in a black Egyptian woman’s shirt

with a blue veil. The most popular of them all, however, proved to be

little Nellie Hozier, who did Hatib, a pretty joyous child of nineteen,

who having just been condemned by doctors only two days ago as having in

her the germs of consumption was determined to enjoy her time to the

uttermost before going to a health establishment (Nordrach) in Germany,

the only chance for her of cure. I dressed her in my old travelling Arab

dress, all in rags as it was, and arranged the _kifiyeh_ and _aghal_ for

her pretty head, and she looked, with a spear in her hand, a splendid

Bedouin boy, and spoke her lines with admirable spirit, bringing down

the house. The final scene, where Hatib espouses the two ladies, was

especially delightful, for she put her arms round both their necks by a

spontaneous impulse which we had not designed and which was better than

all other possible arrangement. Barix was played by Mark Napier and

Alexis by his son Claud, both well, though Mark had to read his part.

Claud was costumed in one of George Wyndham’s old undress Guard’s

uniforms he had sent us for the occasion. He could not come himself to

see the play. Guy Carleton did Boilas. The other actors were Benjamin by

Everard Meynell, a wonderful personation of an Oriental, the Makawkas by

Lucas, the Patriarch by Daisy Blunt, with Mrs. Lucas and the youngest

Meynell girl for Coptic women in attendance on Jael and afterwards as

Arabs. Though we had only had three rehearsals the play went off without

a hitch.

“_27th July._—Lady Paget was here to-day and talked very pleasantly,

telling amongst other things the latest spiritualistic story according

to which the late Lord Carlingford has re-entered into communication

with the living and is carrying on a correspondence in his own

handwriting with one of his friends, principally on Irish politics, of

which he has found a new devolutionary solution. He is in daily

intercourse with Gladstone and has converted him to the doctrine of

protection!

“_28th July._—Horace Rumbold has been staying with me, and his son

Horace, now Secretary to the Madrid Embassy, was here for the day

yesterday. Horace is seventy-eight and rather feeble, but still a good

companion. I had a long talk with him last night about European,

Egyptian and Indian politics. He gave me an interesting account of the

King’s influence in foreign affairs. His Majesty insists now on making

all important diplomatic appointments himself, and busies himself much

more than ever the old Queen did in the foreign policy adopted. This

works sometimes for good, sometimes for harm. The King and the Emperor

William have been for years on the worst of terms, and it is only quite

recently that the quarrel between them is being made up. Seckendorff,

the confidential adviser of the Empress Frederick, who, people say,

married her after the Emperor’s death, had talked to him about it, and

had done his best to bring about a better understanding. The Emperor of

Austria had greatly desired to attend the late Queen’s Diamond Jubilee,

as he had never been in England, and the sole reason why he was not

invited was, that he could not be so without inviting also the Emperor

William. Wilhelm was a bitter enemy of England, and if he lived would

some day make Germany a danger to us. I told him of the old Prussian

scheme of uniting with Holland and reviving the claim to the Dutch

Colonies. [I had learned this fact in 1866 from Count d’Usedom, the

Prussian Minister to Italy, while I was staying with him at the Villa

Capponi at Florence. He told me that this was a settled policy of the

Berlin Foreign Office.] Rumbold said it was news to him, but he quite

believed it, and some day this would come about through a failure of

direct heirs to the Dutch throne. He considers England would be easily

invaded from the Continent. In nearly all of this we are agreed. I told

him the history of the intrigue four years ago against Cromer, and of

the arrangement then made that Gorst was to have Cromer’s succession in

Egypt. He had not heard of it, but he knew that Cromer was anything but

pleased at Gorst’s appointment. He gets his news of the Cairo Agency

through his son Horace, who was there till last January, and through

Findlay, with whom he is intimate.

“_31st July._—The Cromer debate has come on more successfully than we

could have hoped six weeks ago, as 107 voted against the grant of

£50,000, a minority of 147. Willy Redmond made the speech I wrote out

for him, or one closely like it, and Kettle, who had also written to

consult me, spoke strongly, Grayson, the new Socialist member, making a

third. Robertson and his friends of the Egyptian Committee held their

foolish tongues.

“Speaking of the King the other day, Horace Rumbold told me that

Hardinge, of the Foreign Office, is his special man, going everywhere

abroad with him, and fulfilling the functions hitherto appertaining to

the Secretary of State as Cabinet Minister. All diplomatic appointments

are, in fact, made by the King through him. This makes Hardinge’s taking

young Errington as his private secretary the more significant.

“_1st Aug._—To London and saw George Wyndham. He tells me the opposition

to the Cromer vote was even more of a victory for us than I imagined.

Not only did some sixty or seventy Liberals and Labour members vote

against the Government, but a hundred Liberals walked out without

voting, while the Government was only saved from defeat by the Tory

vote. Willy Redmond’s speech was very effective, and he congratulated me

on the result, though he himself had of course voted for Cromer.

“_2nd Aug._—Willy Redmond writes: ‘The division was very good on the

Cromer grant, and the fact that both front benches could only muster 250

out of 670 members is very striking. I know no better report of _your_

speech than the ‘Freeman’s Journal’ of yesterday. . . . The house was

really worked up over Denshawai, and I am sure the prisoners will be

released.’

“_5th Aug._—Father Tyrrell came to lunch with me, and I had some

interesting talk with him. His position now is a very difficult one to

maintain. As an ex-Jesuit he is debarred from receiving ‘faculties’ from

any bishop without the Jesuit Provincial’s leave, and they imposed on

him a promise to submit all private letters he might write to anyone to

Jesuit censorship. This he refused, and so is unable to say Mass, hear

confessions, or perform any priestly office. His mental attitude is very

nearly, if not quite, one of revolt.

“I asked him if he thought it would be possible to keep the Liberal

Catholic party in line with the main body of the old unadvancing Church,

and he seemed to think it very doubtful. It was impossible to say

whether the new wine could be held in the old bottles. Indeed, his

views, judging from his talk with me, seem quite incompatible with any

church teaching I have ever heard of. If I understood him rightly even

such fundamental doctrines as that of a future life were matters of no

certainty, and he spoke as strongly as I could myself have spoken about

the absence of any indication of a belief in it in the Old Testament,

and the futility of the interpretation by the Fathers of the Church of

the Book of Job in a contrary sense. I told him very frankly of my own

acceptance of pure materialism, not only as logically certain, but as

satisfying to the needs of my soul, though in my younger days it had not

been so. He seemed quite willing to agree with the thought that our

desire of a future life was like the desire of a child who, if in the

middle of his play, is threatened with being put to bed, looks upon it

as a terrible punishment, yet comes at the day’s end to be quite ready

for his nurse to carry him away to it. The repugnance we feel for

annihilation is a physical repugnance connected with our bodily

strength, and decaying with its decay. I had not time, however, to go

into these things fully with him, but we are to meet again at

Storrington.

“Later I learnt more of Tyrrell’s ideas from Meynell, with whom he is

intimate. According to Meynell, Tyrrell holds with the consensus of

mankind on matters of moral teaching, rather than with any dogmatic

infallibility of the Christian Church. He thinks that the religious

intelligence of humanity as it advances will agree upon certain articles

of supernatural belief, such as the existence of God, the hope of a

future life, and some form of rewards and punishments to come. These

will be held by all religions, just as the plain rules of moral conduct.

But in this view account is not taken of the views held by Buddhism and

other non-Christian religions. Tyrrell told me what is doubtless true,

that Judaism no less than Christianity is trying hard to find a _via

media_ between the ancient and the modern thought, as also is

Mohammedanism, but the tendency of all three is, as he readily admitted,

towards materialism, and it was no argument that because intellectual

men clung closer to-day to religious beliefs than in the days of

Voltaire, they were therefore any nearer to a solution favourable to

religion. The desire was stronger now because the practical dangers of

unbelief were better understood. I feel that I cannot do Tyrrell justice

in this recollection of his talk, but the impression it has left on me

is clear, that he must end in agnosticism, probably in pure materialism.

“_13th Aug._—Hafiz Awwad, Editor of the ‘Mimbar’ at Cairo, has been here

to dine and sleep. He is an extremely able and interesting man, and we

have discussed every phase of the Egyptian question. On this he is

thoroughly sound, representing Mohammed Abdu’s views more completely

than any other I have met. Of the Khedive he gives a hopeful account.

‘The experience of the last year,’ he says, ‘has made His Highness once

more serious, and though quite alive to his faults and his hereditary

ill tendencies, he thinks he can now be fairly well relied on to work

with the National Party. Two years ago the Khedive had despaired of

politics, and had given himself up solely to pleasure and money-making,

but the events of Akabah and the demonstrations about Denshawai had

shown him that he would find support in the country if the hour of

resistance to English rule should come. Even if he should fail them,

Hafiz is confident the Egyptians could work out their National salvation

without him. Talking of Cromer’s resignation, he said, as they all do,

that the Sultan’s popularity in Egypt came as a surprise to Cromer, and

entirely upset his calculations. Denshawai was an act of anger, alarm,

and disappointment, a supreme folly which had ruined his position in

Egypt. Cromer had not quite understood how entirely this was the case

till his return to Cairo last autumn. Then he had attributed the sudden

unanimity of feeling against him to the Khedive’s intrigues, and he had

tried to get Abbas deposed. It was the refusal of the English Government

to go with him to that extreme extent that had led him to resign. Hafiz

does not think the Khedive knew of the resignation before it was

announced. His Highness was on the point of making one of his desert

journeys from Alexandria when he heard the news, and hastened to Cairo

out of politeness, expecting to find Cromer really ill, but when they

met it was only to receive a violent scolding on account of an allowance

Abbas had made to a certain religious Sheykh, an itinerant preacher whom

Cromer accused him of putting forward to foment sedition.

“As to Gorst, Hafiz is very sceptical of his proving any great change

for the better. As far as Nationalist hopes are concerned, he might well

be in some ways worse. He is anxious I should, if possible, see the

Khedive and encourage him to hold fast to his patriotic principles, but

Abbas was very weak.

“Of Mustapha Kamel he talked reasonably, said he could be relied on as

honest and patriotic, but he was vain and impatient of competition, and

jealous of being considered the one National Leader. He had acquired

great influence, and his ability was great.

“_15th Aug._—Drove to Storrington to call on Miss Petre and Father

Tyrrell. Her ‘Home for the Unhappy’ is a charming old eighteenth-century

house in the village street opposite the Black Horse Inn, inside and

outside perfect, rooms panelled and white painted, all scrupulously

clean, with a semi-conventual primness, but prettier than convents are.

The door was opened by a demure maid, very neatly dressed, with downcast

eyes. Behind the house is a nice square plat of lawn and garden, with a

row of low buildings beyond, all adding to the cloistral look.

“Miss Petre is a young woman of about thirty-five, plain, but with a

pleasant, ruddy countenance, and a look of extreme honesty. I had twenty

minutes’ talk with her, before Father Tyrrell appeared, on matters

connected with the establishment, a serious, good woman, large minded,

but without much humour; that was my impression of her.

“_20th Aug._—Clouds. My birthday of sixty-seven was spent here. To-day

Sir Reginald and Lady Graham came for the afternoon. He is an old friend

of the Wyndhams of fifty years standing. He talked to me of my Aunt

Leconfield, who died in 1863, with great admiration, as one always

charming and kind, who had had a difficult part to play at Petworth at

times. Graham, poor man, had been badly crippled by a fall, and suffers

much pain.

“I have been reading a collection of very delightful letters written by

old Lady Campbell, Madeline’s mother, to Miss Emily Eden. These show

what a wonderfully attractive woman she was, with a vast fund of life,

wit, and broad-mindedness, just such another as is Madeline herself. I

remember Lady Campbell forty years ago, very like what Madeline now is,

with snow-white hair and the same kindly ways. There is a delightful

description among the letters of Madeline’s birth in 1835.

“_24th Aug._—Newbuildings. Meynell and his son Everard brought Francis

Thompson down by motor to stay a week with Everard at Gosbrook, a

cottage close by, belonging to me. The poor poet seemed to be in the

last stage of consumption, more like death than anything I have seen

since Bill Gordon was here, and he died a fortnight afterwards. He is

emaciated beyond credibility, his poor little figure a mere skeleton,

under clothes lent him for the occasion by the Meynells. He has the

smallest head and face of any grown man I ever saw, colourless, except

for his sharp nose, where all light is concentrated, and his bright

eyes. It is the face of a Spanish sixteenth-century Saint, almost that

of a dying child. When he had rested a bit at Gosbrook, I drove him down

to tea at Newbuildings, and he revived there a little and began to talk

with Everard and me. I took him a toddle round the garden, but he does

not know one flower from another any more than twelve years ago, when he

could not distinguish an oak from an elm. The poppy was the only flower

he recognized. ‘Ah, that’s a poppy,’ he said, as if greeting a friend.

He has not been out of London for a year.

“_26th Aug._—Thompson is distinctly better to-day. I fetched him down

from Gosbrook in the phaeton, and had a long talk with him after

luncheon. We first got into touch with each other over a common hatred

of European civilization and the destruction wrought by it on all that

was beautiful in the world, the destruction of happiness, of the happier

races by the less happy, and so gradually to the despair of the

intellectual part of mankind with what life gave and the craving for a

life after death. I gave him something of my view and asked him abruptly

what his own view was. He said, ‘Oh, about that I am entirely orthodox;

indeed, it is my only consolation.’ This led to a question about his

Catholic bringing up, and he told me that he was a Catholic born, both

his parents having been, however, converts, neither of them Irish, he

was without any Irish blood that he knew of. His mother was from

Lancashire, his father, I think he said, originally from Rutland, but

settled in Manchester. I asked him whether either parent was alive and

he said no, his mother had died before he left home. It was a mistake to

suppose that his father had treated him harshly. The fault had been his

own and a misunderstanding. He had thought that his father insisted on

his studying medicine; this was a mistake, it was his mother (meaning

his stepmother) and her friends that desired it. If he had spoken openly

to his father telling him how repugnant the details of doctoring were to

him he would not have insisted, but as he did not speak, his father did

not know and he acquiesced in what was arranged for him. His repugnance

was a physical one which he could not overcome. The dissection of dead

bodies he had partly got over, but the sight of blood flowing he could

never endure. I told him how it was the same with me, and how I still

could not look without physical repulsion on a wound. I gathered from

what he told me, though he did not say it, that it was his stepmother

rather than his father who had been hard to him; however, he blamed no

one but himself. ‘As a boy of seventeen,’ he said, ‘I was incredibly

vain, it makes me blush now to remember what I thought of myself.

Neither my father nor my mother had the least appreciation of literary

things or the least suspicion that I had any talent of that kind, but

I was devoured with literary ambition, all my medical studies were

wasted because I would not work, but ran off from my classes to the

libraries to read. If my father had known it he would not have forced

me to go on. Then I failed to pass the examinations and I behaved ill

in every way and took to drink and the rest. I was in every way an

unsatisfactory son.’ I asked him whether he had not seen his father

before he died and he said, ‘Oh yes, three months before, at Pantasaph,

and he was entirely kind.’

“We talked next about the Franciscans and his stay of two years with

them. He was allowed at that time to go in and out among them, but he

said all had been changed now and they were kept to their strict rule.

Of his two special friends, Cuthbert and Angelo (the same who had come

to me for help to go to Rome), Angelo had broken away, not only from the

order, but from the church, and was now a clergyman of the Church of

England. The other had modified his views of reform and was working

among the hop-pickers in Kent. Their idea in going to Rome had been to

found a new order. On the whole I find Thompson much saner and more

sensible than I expected. Of his poetry he talked reasonably and said

that he took a soberer view of his talents now than he had done as a

boy. ‘I have written no verse,’ he said, ‘for ten years past, and shall

write no more. If I have at all succeeded it is because I have tried to

do my best.’

“Talking with him I am more than ever convinced that there is no

essential difference between a man of great talent and what is called a

man of genius. Thompson, if any living poet can now be said to be so, is

a man of genius, yet one sees precisely how his poetry has come about.

If he had lived a happy, easy life at home he would probably have done

nothing very noteworthy, but the terrible experiences he has gone

through have given him that depth of thought and feeling which is the

feature of his poetry, distinguishing him from his fellow poets. His

ear, of course, is a very fine one, but a vast amount of the beauty of

his verse lies in the underlying tragedy, while the wealth of imagery

and the elaboration of his diction have been produced by sheer hard

work. Above all it is the essential goodness of his character shining

through it that attracts. There is so little of material selfishness, so

great a sympathy with all forms of suffering, such thankfulness for the

small change of beauty in the world, scattered as alms to the poorest.

All this is beautiful and of immense value, but I see nothing

supernatural in it, nothing above the nature of many other good people

who are without his talent of speaking what he feels in rhythmical

words.

“_30th Aug._—Neville has been over here, having been summoned by me, and

has made an admirable drawing of Thompson, a profile in coloured chalks.

It is an absolutely exact presentment of what he is, and will be very

valuable as a record in the days to come. He, Thompson, is pleased with

it himself. To-day the elder Meynell came down for the day and I had a

long talk with him making him give me over again the history of his

connection with Thompson. What he told me was this:

“‘It was twenty years ago when I was editing “Merrie England,” that I

received a very dirty crumpled envelope containing some MS. verse and an

essay. They looked so uninviting that I did not read them but put them

away in a pigeon hole and it was not till six months afterwards, that

wanting something for the magazine I took them out and read them. The

essay was on ——’ (I forget what Meynell told me was the title, but

something to do with the claims of body and soul) ‘a commonplace subject

of which I expected nothing new. I soon saw, however, that there was

nothing commonplace in the essay. It was full of originality and had a

wealth of illustration and quotation quite unlike the essays I generally

received. Also the verses were so good that I showed them to Alice (his

wife) who said that, unless they were, as sometimes happens, accidental

successes, I had discovered a new poet. I at once published one of these

and the essay. They were signed “Francis Thompson” with the address

“Charing Cross P.O.,” but when I addressed him there I found that he no

longer called for his letters and so I could not pay him for the MS.

“‘I had, however, published them with his name and I trusted that

someone who knew him would call his attention to their having appeared.

This is precisely what happened. Some few days later I received a letter

from him complaining that I had been wanting in courtesy in not sending

him a cheque for the writings published. This time the address was at a

house in Drury Lane. As I was now convinced that I had found a true

poet, I consequently went at once to the address given and found it to

be that of a chemist who told me that the writer did not live there, his

only connection with the house being that he occasionally bought drugs

there, and was actually owing 4_s._ 6_d._ for laudanum which the chemist

invited me, as a supposed relation, to pay. Thus informed I wrote to

Thompson and invited him to come and visit me, which he presently did.

His appearance then was terrible in its destitution. When he came into

the room he half opened the door and then retreated and did so twice

before he got courage to come inside. He was in rags, his feet, without

stockings, showing through his boots, his coat torn, and no shirt. He

seemed in the last stage of physical collapse. I asked him how, being in

such a condition, he had been able to consult the books out of which he

had gathered the quotations for his essay. He answered, “Books I have

none, but Blake and the Bible.” All the quotations had been made from

memory. I gave him a cheque for his work and told him to come and see me

again, any evening I would see him.

“‘A few days later he came again and I gave him dinner, and he stopped

talking with me till about ten, when he became uneasy and said he must

be going. I asked him what obliged him and he explained that he was

obliged to earn tenpence every day to live. This he did by waiting at

the doors of theatres and calling cabs, and by selling matches in the

neighbourhood of Charing Cross. Soon after I took him to a doctor who

pronounced his case hopeless; it was one of laudanum slow poisoning. He

said all that could be done was to help him to die easily. If he left

off drugs it would kill him at once. I have always disbelieved, however,

in doctors, and I got him into a hospital from which six weeks later he

was discharged practically cured. I had already before this given him a

bath and a suit of clothes, and I now took him into my house for awhile,

and then arranged for him to live in the Premonstratensian monastery at

Storrington. It was here that his best work was done. It was a constant

series of beautiful poems. He did not beat about for subjects but wrote

on the simplest subjects with unfailing wealth of thought and power of

language. He had become devoted to my wife, and many of his poems were

addressed to her or her children. Both his first volumes date from this

time at Storrington, as was his magnificent “Ode to the Sunset” which

for some reason was omitted from these and stands in another volume. He

owed much in his style to Coventry Patmore. It was through me that they

became acquainted. The bond between them was a common adoration for

Alice. Thompson went to stay a week with Patmore in the country and they

made friends, talking constantly of her, and afterwards corresponded

always about her. He took opium again, after he left Storrington, and

went back to his life in the London streets, but not again to the slums.

He used, before I knew him, to sleep at night under the arches of Covent

Garden where every quarter of an hour he was liable to be kicked awake

by the police and told to move on. It was in an empty space of ground

behind the market where the gardeners throw their rubbish, that, just

before, he had resolved on suicide. He then spent all his remaining

pence on laudanum, one large dose, and he went there one night to take

it. He had swallowed half when he felt an arm laid on his wrist, and

looking up he saw Chatterton standing over him and forbidding him to

drink the other half. I asked him when he told me of it how he had known

that it was Chatterton. He said, “I recognized him from the pictures of

him—besides, I knew that it was he before I saw him—and I remembered at

once the story of the money which arrived for Chatterton the day after

his suicide.” Just the same thing happened to Thompson, for a friend

having seen the copy of “Merrie England” told him about it the very next

morning with the result I told you of.’

“I asked Meynell whether he thought Thompson had ever seriously to do

with women. He said, ‘I hardly think so. The only thing he ever

mentioned on such a subject was about the girl I once told you of. It

was when I was proposing to take him into my house, and I was surprised,

being as he was then destitute, that he should hesitate to accept my

offer. He then explained to me that his reason was that a girl, a street

walker, he never told me her name, had made a friendship with him out of

her charity. She lived in Brompton, but frequented the streets near the

Strand, and when she had failed to secure a companion for the night she

used to take him home with her and give him a supper and a shelter. She

liked his poetry, not any of it then published, and they were friends in

this way. He had told her of my offer, and when she heard it she had

said at once that he must give up coming to see her, for it would not do

for him with his new respectable friends. But he would not give her up,

until one day, soon after, he missed her in the Strand, and when he went

to her lodging he found that she was gone, leaving no address. It was

clear that she had resolved to disappear so as not to injure his better

prospects. There was a reminiscence of de Quincy in the unselfish

incident.’ Meynell, however, feels sure that there was no sexual love

between them—though who can know?

“_6th Sept._—The Radical papers are up in arms at last against Grey, who

has just concluded an arrangement with the Russian Government, which

seems to amount to a partition of Persia. There is very little doubt

that the partition of the whole of Asia is in the programme of our

Foreign Office, and would already be a _fait accompli_ but for Kaiser

Wilhelm. According to the present treaty, or whatever else it may be

called, Persia is to be divided into spheres of interest just as North

Africa has been divided. The whole thing is, of course, abominable, but

what fools the Radical members are to have put up with Grey these two

years since the General Election. Meanwhile the aggression on Morocco is

going the usual course of such adventures, with all their scoundrel

features of lying provocation and bombardment.

“I had a long talk yesterday with Thompson on these things as to which

we are in full accord, also about the misery of the poor under the

conditions of Western civilization. Of this last he has had a rude

experience. During the first years of his being in London, his father

allowed him, he tells me, a few shillings a week, but during the last

year, until Meynell discovered him, nothing. This was because he had

finally failed to retain any permanent employment. It had convinced his

father that he would never come to any good, and he cast him off. I

asked him whether he had ever had to labour with his hands. He answered,

‘I was physically unfit.’ I did not like to press him further, but

according to Meynell he got his living by fetching cabs, selling

matches, and blacking boots (very unsuccessfully). He has been ill, poor

fellow, with a bad attack of diarrhœa, so that we have been alarmed

about him. I saw him last night at David’s and found him brighter. [N.B.

I had taken a room for him at one of my cottages called Rascall’s

Corner, Southwater, where he lodged with my old servant David Roberts,

who looked well after him, after Everard Meynell had gone back to

London.] He is very comfortable there and is glad to stay on.

“_9th Sept._—In America six hundred Hindoos have been set upon by a mob

and beaten, an act of race fanaticism. If this had happened to

Englishmen in Turkey we should have had the whole British Press

breathing fire and fury, now not a paper has an article about it, except

a feeble one in the ‘Times.’ Our people are afraid, and though the

Hindoos are British subjects, nothing will be done.

“_12th Sept._—An attack has been made on Japanese in Vancouver which

will bring matters to a crisis. Our Government is faced at last with a

question which will go far to break up the Empire. If it proves anything

to Radicals it will prove that their old doctrine is the right one,

namely, that the Colonies are no strength to England, but a weakness.

George III was logical in his day, when he insisted on governing North

America as well as holding it under the Crown. It is quite illogical to

hold it and to be powerless to govern, as our Whigs are trying to do.

The result will be that we English shall be responsible for all the evil

done in the Colonies, and shall become demoralized by consenting to it.

We shall have to choose very soon between the Colonial Empire and our

Indian Empire. We shall try to keep both, and please God we shall lose

both.

“Thompson goes on in a half alive state at David’s, apparently content

with his existence purely negative. He takes laudanum, David reports,

daily, and sleeps at night with a stertorous sound. At noon every day I

send a vehicle for him, and he joins us here at luncheon, very feeble

and quite silent, except it be on some very trivial subject. He seems

incapable of bringing his mind to bear on any complex thought, and sits

through the afternoon with a volume of Dickens’ ‘Martin Chuzzlewit,’

sometimes held upside down in his hand, which he does not read, nodding,

and three parts asleep, like a very aged man. He seems happy, however,

and I do not disturb him, nor does he ask that anyone should talk to

him.”

We lunched at that time always in the Jubilee garden, where he was much

annoyed by the wasps, which were particularly numerous that summer, even

to the extent that on one occasion he cursed them for the drunken brutes

they were. He used to appeal to me to help him when they got into his

wine. “Will you please kill this wasp for me, I cannot do it, I have

never killed anything in my life.” At last one bit him and he had his

wrist bound up in lint with a strong solution of ammonia, and going to

sleep soon after it raised a blister which remained an interest to him

till he died, wearing the rag, as saints are represented carrying the

instruments of their martyrdom. It has remained a legend here, but I do

not vouch for its authenticity as a miracle, though it is a fact, that

for three years after this there were no wasps in the garden. It was on

the long wicker sofa, the same that was my brother’s during his last

illness, that he was usually laid out to sleep through the afternoon in

the New Room on the ground floor where his portrait now hangs.

“_21st Sept._—To London, and lunched with Horace Rumbold, and he talked

again about the Crown Prince Rudolph’s death, giving me new details.

‘Rudi Hoyos,’ he said, ‘was a charming man of about fifty, very popular

in Vienna. The girl’s mother had been a Baltazzi, married to a

diplomatist of the minor nobility almost bourgeois. The girl had been

driven in his fiacre from Vienna by a well-known character named

Bratfisch, who must have known all about it, but whose mouth remained

afterwards for ever absolutely closed. Bratfisch was an amusing

personage, a cabdriver, who used to be had in by the young men of

fashion to entertain them with his talk, as he knew all the scandalous

stories of Vienna. Horace supposes that the girl finding the Prince was

dead, and herself so entirely compromised, committed suicide, but either

story might be true. Nobody would ever know. The Emperor, Francis

Joseph, never allowed the subject to be mentioned before him. He

considered it too mean an affair and too great a family disgrace.’

“_22nd Sept._—I am staying for the week end with Rivers Wilson at his

country house, Fox Hills, near Chertsey. With us has been Sir Lepel

Griffin who has entertained us with many anecdotes of Gladstone and

other personages. From Rivers I have received a detailed account of the

Mufettish Ismaïl Sadyk’s death at the Khedive Ismaïl’s hands in 1876.

Rivers told how some time before it happened, he (Rivers) was coming

home one night from seeing the Khedive at his palace at Ghezireh when,

passing through the garden, he observed a figure issuing from the shadow

of the trees into the moonlight, and a man had seized his arm, crouching

to him, and imploring him not to leave Egypt. It was the Mufettish, and

Sherif Pasha, who was walking with Rivers, translated what the suppliant

said, and explained the situation, for Rivers knew no word of Arabic,

and was alarmed, thinking he might be an assassin. The Mufettish’s

appeal was very pitiful. When the old man’s arrest became known the

American Consul had gone to Ismaïl, and had threatened him with Consular

displeasure if anything violent should happen, and the Khedive had

become alarmed and sent at once to stop the execution of his orders, but

his messenger had been met on the way by another coming from the

steamer, who had thrown up his arms and given the news that it was too

late. Lepel Griffin, once my adversary on Indian affairs, is a little

white-haired rotund personage with some humour in conversation, self-

indulgent and cynical as Anglo-Indians often are. An Ulster Irishman by

birth he affects an English lisp and drawl, and talks about himself as

an Englishman. We have had also here Allen, the Canadian head of the

Allen line of steamers, with whom Rivers as head of the Canadian Pacific

railroad has business relations, a highly intelligent man.

“Fox Hills is a very beautiful place of which Rivers has a seven years’

lease. The domain was formerly a common, which Charles James Fox planted

with Scotch firs, many of which are now splendid trees. There are a

number, too, of very large birch trees grown from the stub in a way one

seldom sees. The ground is finely tossed about and covered with fern and

heath, a sanct solitude in which Rivers lives the life of a rich city

man. Several parties of Canadians and Americans arrived from London to

spend the afternoon, and talk business with him. Rivers has become

emphatically a _beau vieillard_, well dressed, well cared for, alert and

pleasant to all. He has what after all is the chief consolation of old

age, the sense of having succeeded in life, though he did not succeed in

Egypt.

“_28th Sept._—Thompson remains on at Rascall’s Corner, somewhat better

in health, but intellectually defunct. His whole interest in the last

few days has been his wasp bite, which has been made worse by the

ammonia. He has managed, I believe, at last to finish his article for

the ‘Athenæum.’ [It was on Sir Thomas Browne.]

“_3rd Oct._—I am much interested in two long letters Father Tyrrell has

published in the ‘Times,’ a reply to the Pope’s Encyclical, which will

probably bring on him a formal excommunication. I have written to him to

express my sympathy, and to tell him that if there had been any exponent

of views like his forty-five years ago, it might have made all the

difference to me in my spiritual life.

“My niece, Mary Wentworth, has been staying here.

“_16th Oct._—Thompson paid me his farewell visit to-day, Everard Meynell

having arrived in the morning to fetch him back to London. We had become

alarmed about him latterly, as since the weather began to break up he

has remained entirely indoors, shut in David’s cottage with a big fire

and doors and windows carefully closed, a bottle of laudanum, David

tells me, beside him, and ill with diarrhœa. It has reduced him to a

skeleton. Meynell has sent a priest to see him, and I felt that any day

he might go suddenly. He needs some one with him who can exercise

control over him, but I doubt his living over Christmas. As an

intellectual force he is already dead, and his poor body is dying, too.”

My account of Francis Thompson’s visit to Newbuildings needs

supplementing on some points. During the first week he lived with

Everard Meynell at Gosbrook, a cottage which I had lent to them for the

purpose, and they came daily to us for luncheon, and to spend the

afternoon at Newbuildings. This was from 24th August until the end of

the month. Thompson at that time could walk the distance, a mile there

and a mile back, and he spent his afternoons with us as already

described out of doors in the Jubilee Garden, and each day, when we had

finished luncheon, he would retire to the New Room, carrying with him a

glass of wine with which he mixed some white powder, and lying down on

the long Madeira sofa, the same which had been my brother’s in his last

illness, there remained half asleep during the rest of the afternoon,

going back to Gosbrook with Everard in the evening. After Everard’s

return to London he moved to David Robert’s cottage, where he was well

looked after by David and his wife. At first he continued coming to

Newbuildings every day for luncheon, but as he grew weaker I had to send

a carriage for him, and then he gradually ceased coming; the incident of

the wasps he took very seriously. The last fortnight he was at Rascall’s

he gave himself up entirely to taking laudanum, and David and his wife

were alarmed at his condition. The drug was sent him by post from

London, and I heard that he took as much as six ounces of it daily. The

last time he came to see us at Newbuildings he was so weak that he had

to be helped back into the carriage.

“Father Tyrrell has written me an interesting letter in answer to mine,

in which I had expressed a hope that he would not allow himself to be

driven out of his ground, on either side (as a Liberal Catholic or as an

obedient member of the Church). He writes: ‘As you may imagine, the air

is full of missiles directed at my head, and I am busy dodging them. It

is not pleasant, yet to my Irish blood not wholly unpleasant.’ Also, in

allusion to what I had said about the influence such teaching as his

might have had on me forty-five years ago, ‘Yes, had Knowledge been

welcomed earlier, many might have been saved to the Church, but she

(Knowledge) has had to force herself in, and the result may be rather

destructive for her unwilling hostess, yet the gain of Rome to the cause

of reason and humanity would be so great that one is loath to abandon

the effort, at all events I can never admit that I am beaten.’

“_20th Oct. (Sunday)._—Rivers Wilson has been here with Neville and

Cunninghame Graham and a friend of his from Morocco, one Fernan, an

Anglo-Belgian merchant of Casa Blanca, who was there during the recent

bombardment by the French. Fernan tells me the bombardment was without

sufficient excuse. Trouble had arisen through the opposition of the

native Moors to the new harbour works being constructed by a French

company, and especially to the appointment of Frenchmen as revenue

officers to the Custom House. This had led to excitement, and four or

five Europeans had been killed by roughs; arrests, however, had been

made by the local authorities, and there was no real danger in the town

when the French man-of-war arrived. The commander of the vessel had

promised to give three hours’ warning before taking steps, but chose to

give it at 2 o’clock in the morning, and began firing at 5, the pretext

being that a single rifle shot had been fired on the French landing

party. Fernan is a strong partisan of the Moors, or rather against the

French. Between the reigning Sultan, Abdul Aziz and Mulai Hafid, he

thinks there is not much to choose, but he has only seen the latter once

some years ago when he was a provincial Governor. The French, he thinks,

are hampered in their projects against Morocco by the difficulty of

providing a sufficient army without denuding either France or Algeria of

troops.

“Rivers is fierce against Cromer, especially because Cromer, having been

his subordinate in Egypt in 1878, has never acknowledged the fact that

the work of financial regeneration there was begun while he, Wilson, was

head of the financial commission. This is true. Cromer has always

ignored every reform in Egypt effected before 1883, the date of his own

arrival there as Consul General. Of Riaz Pasha Rivers speaks with

affection, and of how Riaz had helped him on the financial commission.

“I have had a correspondence with Malet in the ‘Times’ about the passage

in my ‘Secret History,’ where I record that I went to Downing Street to

get him ordered, for his safety’s sake, on board ship just before the

bombardment of Alexandria. Malet insists that by this I meant I had got

him ‘recalled,’ which certainly was not in my mind. The dispute with

Malet was of no importance, but the ‘Times’ has taken occasion to vent

its spleen or rather Moberly Bell’s spleen against me in a leading

article, to which by Rivers’ advice, I have replied, showing Moberly

Bell’s part in the affair.

“_30th Oct._—Cromer has made a speech in the City of the most rampant

bureaucratic kind, and Grey has refused again to release the Denshawai

prisoners.

“_14th Nov._—Broadly called on me in connection with my ‘Times’

pamphlet. Then to Neville’s studio in Chelsea, where I am sitting to him

for a portrait in Arab dress, and from that on to lunch with Button at

Fulham. I found Button established there in a delightful old house in

Church Row called ‘The Hermitage,’ with a large open hall and a garden

behind it adjoining the Bishop of London’s garden which he has filled

with his marble vases and well-heads brought from Italy, among them some

really fine things.

“Button leads a solitary life at Fulham as if in the country, never

going into London, and depending chiefly on his clerical neighbours for

his society. He took me out after luncheon for a short walk, and passing

the churchyard he pointed out to me old Lord Ranelagh’s grave there. On

it we were surprised to find some newly-cut flowers, all red ones, laid.

This, although the old fellow had been dead for twenty years.

“As I was leaving Chapel Street in the evening to return to Newbuildings

a note reached me from Meynell announcing Francis Thompson’s death, and

asking me to write a memorial of him in the ‘Academy.’ This I did, and

it was so arranged that nothing was known of Thompson’s death till mine

and a number more articles about him were ready to print. This accounted

in some measure for the sudden interest taken by the public in him as a

great poet, one fully deserved, for he was our greatest religious poet

since Herbert. He died in a private hospital to which Meynell had taken

him a fortnight ago. He saw him there on Tuesday and he died on

Wednesday the 13th at dawn.

“_17th Nov. (Sunday)._—Terence Bourke is here. He tells me that in Tunis

things are going prosperously now, that the French have adopted a more

conciliatory policy towards the Moslem inhabitants and that these are

accepting the French _régime_. The French are discontinuing their

fortification of Bizerta now that the Anglo-French Entente is signed.

“_24th Dec._—The release of the Denshawai prisoners is announced in the

papers, so that episode is over, but it has done more towards shaking

the British Empire in the East than anything that has happened for

years. It smashed Cromer and it has half smashed Grey. Its sound has

gone out into all lands, into India, Persia, and throughout Asia. Egypt

it has saved from her long apathy and it will continue to inspire the

new Nationalism.

“_1st Jan._, 1908.—Eversley has written me a very important letter

confirming my account of the Egyptian doings in 1882. As he was a member

of the Government at the time it is of great value, in it he says:

“‘Many thanks for your letter and still more for the copy of the second

edition of your book. I have read it carefully with the greatest

interest. It is the most complete vindication of your own conduct

throughout the whole of the Egyptian business.

“‘I think you have been fully justified in quoting from conversations

and letters as you have done. There must come a time when such things

may be made public and when the convention as to privacy no longer will

hold good. It seems to me that after more than 20 years, during which

the British policy has prevailed in Egypt almost without question, and

when at length a new phase is arising in that country it is quite

legitimate to tell the whole story without reserve.

“‘The objection, however, in any case can only come from those who are

entitled (if at all) to complain—such as Malet, Colvin, E. Hamilton,

etc., but I do not understand that they have made any complaint. Why

then Frederic Harrison should do so on their behalf I do not quite

understand. I think you hardly do justice to Mr. Gladstone or appreciate

the difficulties of his position—how he was fed with lies from the

Foreign Office and other quarters. Would he have been justified in

breaking up his Government or in resigning himself sooner than give his

consent to sending Wolseley to Egypt? What kind of case could he have

made for doing so? All the official information was to the effect that

Arabi was at the head of a military insurrection and not of a national

movement.

“‘Chamberlain and Dilke were mainly responsible for what was done. I

recollect well them boasting in the Lobby of the House of Commons that

they had cornered the “old man.” I have also always understood that Lord

Granville complained that Dilke played him false in the House of Commons

by answering questions in a manner to suit his own policy and not that

of his chief.

“‘John Morley was at that time completely under the influence of

Chamberlain. The passages you quote from the ‘P. M. G.’ are very

discreditable. They must have been supplied by Dilke and Chamberlain.

Judging by what you say of Arabi and especially his want of physical

courage I doubt whether he could have formed a stable government in

Egypt. Sooner or later the question of financial control would have

arisen and would have forced an issue not very different from that which

was arrived at. What occurred was in fact the logical conclusion of the

policy of financial control that was the _fons et origo mali_.’

“_6th Jan._—The ‘Daily News’ announces what seems to be the death of the

‘Times,’ at any rate of the ‘Times’ as we have known it. If true this

will be a new scalp for me.

“_7th Jan._—It is officially announced that the ‘Times’ is to be turned

into a Limited Liability Company under the chairmanship of Walter and

that the director manager is to be Pearson. This means that the old

‘Times’ is indeed dead, and Moberly Bell discarded, a swift triumph for

my pamphlet. I cannot help, however, regretting the old Thunderer now he

is gone.

“‘Zeus, thy right hand is unloaded

Where the thunder did prevail.

In the idiocy of Godhead

Thou art staring the stars pale;

And thine eagle blind and old

Roughs his feathers in the cold.

Now Pan is dead!’

[The pamphlet here referred to was one I had just published against the

‘Times’ in connection with certain letters published by their manager,

Moberly Bell, containing attacks on me which the ‘Times’ had refused me

my right of reply to. The matter is not of sufficient consequence to

include in the present volume.]

“_10th Jan._—I have been reading Miss Petre’s book, ‘Catholicism and

Independence.’ It interests me immensely, and surprises me also, for I

did not at all guess her intellectual gifts. These essays show her to be

the best serious woman writer of her time. She has certain qualities

women rarely possess, precision, sense of proportion, accuracy of

illustration. Her psychology is original and true.

“_18th Jan._—We have had a little festivity arranged for us by my

bailiff, Laker. Eight or nine old men and young from the parish who sang

Sussex songs, well supplied with beer in the business room, some of the

singing very good, and so all the evening till a nine gallon barrel was

empty. Though I have lived off and on at Newbuildings for close on forty

years I had never before heard these songs.

“_24th Jan._—The latest scandal is about the theft of the Crown Jewels

in Dublin, one of the same kind that caused so much scandal at Berlin.

It is being hushed up, it is said, because a full revelation would make

the Government of Ireland impossible.

“_26th Jan._—Ouida is dead, poor woman, in great poverty at Villareggio.

She had continued her correspondence with Cockerell ever since we saw

her at Lucca.

“_28th Jan._—In the afternoon I sat to Neville for my portrait. Coming

back with him we met his Aunt T. (Mrs. Earle) at her door, and went back

with her to tea. She is a most amusing woman, and told us a number of

good things. While there, Cambon, the French Ambassador, looked in. We

had not met for several years. ‘Ah, Voilà l’ami des Arabes,’ was his

greeting.

“_30th Jan._—George Wyndham came to lunch with me. He is hopeful about

the political situation from his party point of view. He considers that

the Government has got into difficulties all round, in the Transvaal, in

India, and at home. He is now an out-and-out Tariff Reformer, and

expects to win on it. Campbell Bannerman is seriously ill, and the

Government have mismanaged things absurdly in Ireland. He is glad the

Irish Nationalists have settled their differences. The scandal about the

Crown Jewels is sure to come out, and the Government’s position is a

quite impossible one. It is Birrell’s fault, he says, who is idle about

his work, and was away abroad amusing himself when the discovery of the

loss of the jewels was made. In his absence Macdonnell had decided that

the best way of treating the matter would be to get rid of Vicars on

some other pretext, and then Macdonnell also went away. Birrell,

however, on his return ordered an inquiry, and this gave Vicars, who had

taken good legal advice, his opportunity. The inquiry was to be held in

secret, and not on oath, and Vicars refused to give evidence before it,

claiming publicity. Macdonnell was very angry about this on his return,

hence the rumours of his resignation, and now they don’t know at all

what to do, for the King is furious at the idea of there being a scandal

here like the one at Berlin, and it cannot long be kept secret as

everybody at Dublin knows it. As to who actually took the jewels George

does not know. Lord Aberdeen had made himself a laughing stock at Dublin

in connection with it. Vicars had gone to him and had bullied him, and

had chivied Aberdeen round the room when he had said that he could not

give an answer without consulting Birrell, but George does not profess

to know the whole facts of the case.

“_2nd Feb. (Sunday)._—Lunched at the French Embassy. On my way there I

saw placards in the streets announcing the assassination of the King of

Portugal and his heir apparent. Cambon was of course full of this

sinister event. He told us that he had only yesterday received a letter

from Lisbon dated the 29th, warning him of the existence of a conspiracy

against the King. It had been written to him by a leader of the

constitutional opposition, and Cambon considered the assassination to be

the work, not of anarchists, but of political opponents of the King’s

unconstitutional rule. For some time past Portugal has been governed,

not by Parliamentary ministers, but despotically by decree, Franco, the

King’s minister, having made himself with the King’s support Dictator.

‘One must not,’ Cambon said, ‘take a Parliamentary _régime_ in Portugal

seriously, any more than in Persia or Turkey. The mass of the peasants

care nothing for politics, and questions of Constitution only concern a

few people. He would not hear of its being the work of anarchists. It

was rather the way in which political party strife manifested itself in

Portugal, the struggle of one party against another for the loaves of

office; there had been great corruption there.

“Mrs. Earle was at the luncheon, and Mrs. Arkwright, and Mrs. Crawshay;

the last told me that she had lunched yesterday with Margot, and had

learned from her that it was definitely settled that Asquith should have

Campbell Bannerman’s succession, whenever he retires from the

premiership. The only competitor had been Grey, but Grey had said that

he was overworked already at the Foreign Office and could not undertake

it. Asquith intends as soon as the event happens to dissolve parliament,

and go to the country for a new mandate.

“_5th Feb._—John Dillon came to see me and we had a long and most

interesting talk. He told me first about Irish politics, how all the

Parliamentary party had come together again, and were working together

pleasantly, ‘even Healy, though he and I have not spoken for fifteen

years.’ They have come to terms, too, with the Government, the

Government having engaged themselves to pass a resolution in favour of

Home Rule this Session. All will vote for it, even Asquith, and Grey,

and Haldane. This will bind the Liberal Party once more to a Home Rule

policy, and they will ask a mandate for it at the next General Election.

He spoke well of Birrell. ‘Birrell,’ he said, ‘has refused to use

coercion in Ireland, in spite of tremendous pressure brought to bear

upon him.’ I told him what I had heard of Asquith’s intention of

dissolving parliament, and he said he thought it very likely, but it was

not improbable the Liberals would be beaten at the election. This

brought us to general politics, and the rupture there was sure to be

between the Labour Party and the Liberals, with an eventual division of

the country into a Conservative party, and a party more or less

socialistic of opposition, such as there is in Germany. Dillon is much

more of a democrat than I am, though neither of us is at all Socialist.

Dillon is for Colonial Federation, and is not without a tinge of

Imperialism. He is a believer in the ‘Yellow Peril,’ and thinks that the

Colonies if left to themselves will be sooner or later invaded by

Asiatics. Australia and Canada, he says, are rapidly becoming Catholic

countries. I asked him the reason of this, and he told me that in both

Colonies, and for that matter in the United States, the English

colonists had left off breeding children and so were dying out, whereas

the Irish, French, and Italian colonists continued to have large

families. It was entirely owing to the influence of the Catholic Church

which forbade the use of restrictions. Dillon avowed a strong belief in

the Italians as ‘a thoroughly virile race, physically and

intellectually, and that it will survive when others succumb, in spite

of Lord Salisbury’s ridiculous pronouncement about the Latin races.’ The

Boers of South Africa are another vigorous race for which he has the

greatest admiration. He is for Colonial Federation on their account.

They would outlive the other white races in South Africa, and the

connection with England would preserve them from trouble with Germany.

He is entirely against the Indians in the Transvaal, and has not much

sympathy with the blacks; he would not agree with me when I said there

would be recognized slavery in South Africa before another generation

was out. This could only be by the extermination of the warlike tribes,

but that is just what I think will be done, when the feebler tribes will

be reduced to forced labour, perhaps on wages, but still forced.

“As to India, Dillon professed to have no knowledge, but thought that

its connection with the British Empire could not long be preserved, in

face of the awakening of the East through the successes of Japan. His

Imperialism only applies to the white Colonies. He stopped to luncheon,

but did not talk much himself as a Mr. Percy Addleshaw had joined us,

having come to see me, it so happened, to talk about this very question

of India. Addleshaw is an old pupil and friend of York Powell’s, in bad

health, who has become acquainted with some of the Indian leaders.

“_10th Feb._—The Bellocs came to tea bringing with them Bron Herbert,

now Lord Lucas, as good and charming a young man as he was ten years ago

when I saw him last at Oldhouse. He tells me his sister Nan has made

Oldhouse over to the Theosophists, the sect founded by Madame Blavatsky,

which she has joined.

“As I was at dinner a telegram from Rothstein was brought me announcing

the death of Mustapha Kamel. Though Malony had written me news of his

illness only a few days ago, the telegram was to me a great shock.

“_11th Feb._—The news of Kamel’s death is in all the papers.

“Morley has announced in Parliament a punitive expedition in India

against the Agha Khels. In this, as in all his policy at the India

Office, he follows the permanent official lead, being the weak man he

is.

“To London and saw Rothstein who gave me the Egyptian news. Mustapha

Kamel had been ailing for some time past and had had a congestion of the

lungs from which he was recovering, but going out too soon had a

relapse. His, however, has always been a frail life and the first time I

saw him, a year and a half ago, I doubted whether he would live long. We

had a suspicion then that he took some drug, probably morphia, as a

stimulant to enable him to do his excessive work. He always lived at

high pressure and seldom took a rest.

“_12th Feb._—Brailsford called to consult me about a visit he is to pay

to Egypt. I explained the situation there as far as I knew it and

besought him to do his best to encourage Mustapha Kamel’s followers and

find a successor for him and bring about a fusion of the various

sections of the National Party. Brailsford goes with me in believing

that a forward policy of strong opposition to the English occupation is

the only one likely to have any effect. A policy of supplication will

obtain nothing. Brailsford is a thorough going good fellow, a quite

sound Nationalist, with some experience of the East; I am glad he is

going to Cairo.

“To see Shaw’s play, ‘Arms and the Man,’ which amused me immensely. I

laughed from beginning to end of it. There is not a word in it that is

not good, and it is a splendid _reductio ad absurdum_ of the romance of

war.

“_13th Feb._—The Paris ‘Temps’ has a panegyric of Mustapha Kamel. Fifty

thousand people followed his funeral at Cairo, so says Reuter, though

the ‘Times’ reduces it to ten thousand. This is a wonderful testimony to

so young a man. He was only thirty-four.

“_20th Feb._—Mohammed Farid has been chosen to take Mustapha Kamel’s

place in Egypt. It was he who, at the Mohammedan Conference, at Algiers,

had the courage to denounce French rule there.

“Morley has begun a new war in India against the Afridis under the

direction of Kitchener, whom in 1889 he attacked for his brutalities of

warfare in the Soudan. Now he finds it all right and proper.

“There has been talk of intervention by Austria and by Russia in the

Balkans, as to which I have no special knowledge or opinion except the

general one that it is desirable in the interests of the rest of the

Eastern world that the two Empires should quarrel.

“_22nd Feb._—Belloc came to ride with us and stayed to luncheon

afterwards. He is no great horseman, and came mounted on an ancient mare

of his he calls Monster, which he rides in blinkers. He is very pleased

just now with having succeeded in bringing forward in the House of

Commons the case he has had _in petto_ for a long time, of the

employment of secret party funds. Talking of Mustapha Kamel’s death he

declares that the Jews in France are beginning to think that a National

movement in Egypt may create trouble for them financially and perhaps it

would be better the English occupation was ended. If that is so we shall

not remain there long.

“_27th Feb._—Cromer’s book on Egypt is out. The historical part, as far

as I am concerned, is of small importance, being poorly done, and

without the writer’s having taken the trouble to go thoroughly into any

obscure matters. It is interspersed with notes referring to my book,

acid in tone, but with no attempt to deal with the charges made in it

against our diplomacy.

“_5th March._—Farid Bey writes telling me of his succession to the

Leadership of the National Party in Egypt, and begging me to continue my

support and advice.

“_10th March._—We have been issuing circulars to friends asking

subscriptions to the Denshawai Memorial School. Evelyn with his usual

generosity has at once sent a cheque of £120. I have answered Farid’s

letter in one dated _6th March_ as to their line of policy.

“_11th March._—This afternoon as the hounds were running across my

fields I joined them on my old grey mare, Shiekha. She was excited and

enjoying the sport when I found her beginning to stagger about, and had

just time to get off her when she fell back, gave a gasp and slight

struggle, and was dead. The poor old mare was over twenty years of age

and had become rather infirm, and it is well for her. She died with as

little pain as any creature can suffer. [This was my last appearance

with any hounds.]

“_12th March._—Chapel Street. Walking in the Park, found John Redmond

riding, and had some talk with him about Egypt and Ireland. Then

Cunninghame Graham joined us. He is just back from Morocco, and declares

himself in favour of Mulai Hafid as Sultan. I am glad of that, as the

French seem tempted to use Abdul Aziz exactly as we used Tewfik in

Egypt. If it had not been for Mulai Hafid’s rising and proclamation of

himself as Sultan, the French Government would have advanced £6,000,000

to Abdul Aziz, and thus committed themselves to the Government of

Morocco. I asked his help to get our Labour members to move in matters

of this sort, but he tells me they are a hopeless lot. When they get

into Parliament they are at once bitten with the absurd idea that they

are to be no longer working men, but statesmen, and they try to behave

as such. ‘I tell them,’ said Graham, ‘that they would do more good if

they came to the House in a body drunk and tumbling about on the floor.’

“_13th March._—Spent an hour with Margot at her house in Cavendish

Square. She is talking already about her impending move to 10 Downing

Street, for Asquith is to have Campbell Bannerman’s succession as Prime

Minister and so she will at last gain the object of her ambition. She

intends to do things splendidly as Prime Minister’s wife; neither Mrs.

Gladstone nor Lady Salisbury had taken advantage of the social side of

her duties, only she will be terribly hampered for a sufficient income

to do it on. Among other things she talked about Cromer, with whom she

had been playing bridge yesterday, and how he had told her of his wish

to re-enter political life. ‘He fancies,’ she said, ‘that he can make a

party with George Curzon and a few other free trade Unionists. His

difficulty is that he cannot swallow old age pensions.’ This is funny,

considering his own old age pension of £50,000 which he swallowed

without winking.

“_19th March._—John Redmond lunched with me. He says a resolution in

favour of Home Rule will certainly be passed this session, binding the

Liberal party once more to them, and they will bring in a Catholic

University Bill, but he thinks that if Asquith dissolves, the Liberals

would be beaten at the new election, mainly on account of the Licensing

Bill. He has a small opinion of them. About Morley at the India Office

he was very scornful, and repeated what he has more than once told me,

that Morley was the weakest and worst Chief Secretary they ever had in

Ireland.

“_20th March._—Nicholas O’Conor is dead at Constantinople, our

Ambassador there, a very worthy fellow, a Catholic Irishman of no great

ability, but amiable and good natured. He got shoved on early in his

profession by Philip Currie, to whom he had proved _serviable_ at the

Paris Embassy, paying attention to English ladies there, and helping

them to buy their bonnets. He was rather a friend of Sarah Bernhardt’s,

and I remember meeting him in the green room of whatever the theatre

was, when Sarah first came over to England in the seventies. He is said

to have done well at Constantinople.

“_26th March._—Several new books. Sarah Bernhardt’s ‘Memoirs,’

exceedingly well written and most amusing. Shelley’s letters to Miss

Kitchener, also most amusing as well as amazing. Gosse’s ‘Father and

Son.’ How Gosse can have written so good a book I cannot imagine, but it

is altogether admirable.

“_1st April._—To see Lady C. who had written after a long interval. She

talked about the Duke of Devonshire, just dead, repeating what I have

often heard her say, that he was a thoroughly good fellow, but quite

without intellect, who would have done nothing in politics if it had not

been for the Duchess, who had insisted on it both before their marriage

and afterwards. The old Duke, his father, was a far more distinguished

man. She does Lord Hartington injustice, however, for though a slow

thinker he was a considerable power in politics, capable of solid

reasoning, if not of eloquence.

“_5th April._—Cromer’s son Errington was married yesterday to a daughter

of Minto’s and there has been a grand _tamasha_ over it. He has been

working a year past as Hardinge’s private secretary at the Foreign

Office to fit him for a great career and the King’s favour.

“_6th April._—Campbell Bannerman has at last resigned and Asquith is to

go to Biarritz to the King who is away there. I am writing to

congratulate Margot.