Don’t think any more of that unpleasant little affair. Of course
neither Swinburne nor I expect our friends, however loyal, to
take part in the literary quarrels that may be forced upon us.
But this man had the character _among men who knew him well_ of
being the most thorough sweep, and to us it did seem queer to see
your honoured name associated with such a man. But, after all,
even he may not have been as black as his acquaintances painted
him. Your loyalty to us I do not doubt.
Yours affectionately,
THEODORE WATTS-DUNTON.
This was followed by a wire--from Swinburne--asking me to lunch,
which I need hardly say I was glad to accept, and so my relationship
to the inmates of The Pines returned to its old footing.
Since it was Swinburne much more than Watts-Dunton who so bitterly
resented what I had written of Buchanan, I am glad to have upon my
shelves a volume of _Selections from Swinburne_, published after his
death, and edited by Watts-Dunton. The book was sent to me by the
Editor, and was inscribed:
“To Coulson Kernahan,
whom Swinburne dearly loved, and who as dearly loved him.
From Theodore Watts-Dunton.”
My unhappy connection with the “Buchanan affair” had, it will be
seen, passed entirely from Swinburne’s memory, and indeed the name of
Robert Buchanan, who was something of a disturbing element even in
death, as he had been in life, was never mentioned among us again.
How entirely the, to me, distressing if brief rift in my friendship
with Watts-Dunton--a friendship which I shall always count one of the
dearest privileges of my life--was closed and forgotten, is clear
from the following letter. It was written in reply to a telegram
I sent, congratulating him on celebrating his 81st birthday--the
last birthday on earth, alas, of one of the most generous and
great-hearted of men:
THE PINES, PUTNEY, S.W.
_Oct. 20th, 1913._