Produced by Sandra Laythorpe and Others
LIFE OF JOHN COLERIDGE PATTESON:
MISSIONARY BISHOP OF THE MELANESIAN ISLANDS
By Charlotte Mary Yonge
Transcriber's note: This Etext of the Life of John Coleridge Patteson:
Missionary Bishop of the Melanesian Islands, by Charlotte Mary Yonge
was prepared by Sandra Laythorpe and others. More information about the
history of the Anglican Church may be found at Project Canterbury A web
page for Charlotte M Yonge may be found at www.menorot.com/cmyonge.htm.
PREFACE.
There are of course peculiar advantages as well as disadvantages in
endeavouring to write the life of one recently departed. On the
one hand, the remembrances connected with him are far fresher; his
contemporaries can he consulted, and much can be made matter of
certainty, for which a few years would have made it necessary to trust
to hearsay or probable conjecture. On the other, there is necessarily
much more reserve; nor are the results of the actions, nor even their
comparative importance, so clearly discernible as when there has been
time to ripen the fruit.
These latter drawbacks are doubled when the subject of the biography has
passed away in comparatively early life: when the persons with whom his
life is chiefly interwoven are still in full activity; and when he has
only lived to sow his seed in many waters, and has barely gathered any
portion of his harvest.
Thus what I have written of Bishop Patteson, far more what I have
copied of his letters, is necessarily only partial, although his nearest
relations and closest friends have most kindly permitted the full use
of all that could build up a complete idea of the man as he was. Many
letters relate to home and family matters, such as it would be useless
and impertinent to divulge; and yet it is necessary to mention that
these exist, because without them we might not know how deep was the
lonely man's interest and sympathy in all that concerned his kindred
and friends. Other letters only repeat the narrative or the reflections
given elsewhere; and of these, it has seemed best only to print that
which appeared to have the fullest or the clearest expression. In
general, the story is best told in letters to the home party; while
thoughts are generally best expressed in the correspondence with Sir
John Taylor Coleridge, to whom the Nephew seems to have written with
a kind of unconscious carefulness of diction. There is as voluminous
a correspondence with the Brother, and letters to many Cousins; but as
these either repeat the same adventures or else are purely domestic,
they have been little brought forward, except where any gap occurred in
the correspondence which has formed the staple material.
Letters upon the unhappy Maori war have been purposely omitted; and, as
far as possible, such criticisms on living personages as it seemed fair
towards the writer to omit. Criticisms upon their publications are of
course a different thing. My desire has been to give enough expression
of Bishop Patteson's opinions upon Church and State affairs, to
represent his manner of thinking, without transcribing every detail of
remarks, which were often made upon an imperfect report, and were,
in fact, only written down, instead of spoken and forgotten, because
correspondence served him instead of conversation.
I think I have represented fairly, for I have done my best faithfully
to select passages giving his mind even where it does not coincide
completely with my own opinions; being quite convinced that not only
should a biographer never attempt either to twist or conceal the
sentiments of the subject, but that either to apologise for, or as it
were to argue with them, is vain in both senses of the word.
The real disadvantage of the work is my own very slight personal
acquaintance with the externals of the man, and my ignorance of the
scenes in which the chief part of his life was passed. There are those
who would have been far more qualified in these respects than myself,
and, above all, in that full and sympathetic masculine grasp of a man's
powerful mind, which is necessarily denied to me. But these fittest of
all being withheld by causes which are too well known to need mention,
I could only endeavour to fulfil the work as best I might; trusting
that these unavoidable deficiencies may be supplied, partly by Coleridge
Patteson's own habit of writing unreservedly, so that he speaks for
himself, and partly by the very full notes and records with which his
friends have kindly supplied me, portraying him from their point of
view; so that I could really trust that little more was needed than
ordinary judgment in connecting and selecting. Nor until the work is
less fresh from my hand will it be possible to judge whether I have
in any way been allowed to succeed in my earnest hope and endeavour to
bring the statue out of the block, and as it were to carve the figure of
the Saint for his niche among those who have given themselves soul and
body to God's Work.
It has been an almost solemn work of anxiety, as well as one of love.
May I only have succeeded in causing these letters and descriptions to
leave a true and definite impression of the man and of his example!
Let me here record my obligations for materials--I need hardly say to
the immediate family and relations--for, in truth, I act chiefly as
their amanuensis; but likewise to the Bishop of Lichfield, Bishop
Abraham.
Lady Martin, the Rev. B. T. Dudley, the Rev. E. Codrington, and Captain
Tilly, for their valuable aid--the two first mentioned by correction and
revision, the others by contributions such as could only be supplied by
eye-witnesses and fellow-workers. Many others I must thank for kindly
supplying me with letters.
CHARLOTTE MARY YONGE. ELDERFIELD, September 19, 1873.
CHAPTER I. CHILDHOOD AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL, 1827-1838.
So much of a man's cast of character depends upon his home and
parentage, that no biography can be complete which does not look back
at least as far as the lives of the father and mother, from whom the
disposition is sure to be in part inherited, and by whom it must often
be formed. Indeed, the happiest natures are generally those which have
enjoyed the full benefit of parental training without dictation, and
have been led, but not forced, into the way in which they should go.
Therefore it will not be irrelevant to dwell on the career of the father
whose name, though still of great weight in his own profession, may not
be equally known to the younger generation who have grown up since the
words 'Mr. Justice Patteson' were of frequent occurrence in law reports.
John Patteson, father of the subject of the present memoir, was son to a
clergyman of a Norfolk family, and was born at Coney Weston, on February
11, 1790. He was educated at Eton, and there formed more than one
friendship, which not only lasted throughout his life, but extended
beyond his own generation. Sport and study flourished alike among such
lads as these; and while they were taught by Dr. Groodall to delight
in the peculiarly elegant and accurate scholarship which was the
characteristic of the highest education of their day, their boyhood
and youth were full of the unstained mirth that gives such radiance to
recollections of the past, and often causes the loyalty of affectionate
association to be handed on to succeeding generations. The thorough
Etonian impress, with all that it involved, was of no small account in
his life, as well as in that of his son.
The elder John Patteson was a colleger, and passed on to King's College,
Cambridge, whence, in 1813, he came to London to study law. In 1816 he
opened his chambers as a special pleader, and on February 23, 1818, was
married to his cousin, Elizabeth Lee, after a long engagement. The
next year, 1819, he was called to the Bar, and began to go the Northern
circuit. On April 3, 1820, Mrs. Patteson died, leaving one daughter,
Joanna Elizabeth. Four years later, on April 22, 1824, Mr.
Patteson married Frances Duke Coleridge, sister of his friend and
fellow-barrister, John Taylor Coleridge. This lady, whose name to all
who remember her calls up a fair and sweet memory of all that was good,
bright, and beloved, was the daughter of James Coleridge, of Heath's
Court, Ottery St. Mary, Devon, Colonel of the South Devon Volunteers. He
was the eldest of the numerous family of the Rev. John Coleridge, Master
of Ottery St. Mary School, and the poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, was
the youngest.
The strong family affection that existed between all Colonel Coleridge's
children, and concentrated itself upon the only sister among them,
made marriage with her an adoption into a group that could not fail to
exercise a strong influence on all connected with it, and the ties of
kindred will be found throughout this memoir to have had peculiar force.
John Coleridge Patteson, his mother's second child and eldest son, was
born at No. 9, Grower Street, Bedford Square, on the 1st of April,
1827, and baptized on the 8th. Besides the elder half-sister already
mentioned, another sister, Frances Sophia Coleridge, a year older than,
and one brother, James Henry, nearly two years younger than Coleridge,
made up the family.
Three years later, in 1830, Mr. Patteson was raised to the Bench, at the
unusually early age of forty.
It is probable that there never was a period when the Judicial Bench
could reckon a larger number of men distinguished not only for legal
ability but for the highest culture and for the substantial qualities
that command confidence and respect. The middle of the nineteenth
century was a time when England might well be proud of her Judges.
There was much in the habits of the Bench and Bar to lead to close and
friendly intimacy, especially on the circuits. When legal etiquette
forbade the use of any public conveyance, and junior barristers shared
post-chaises, while the leaders travelled in their own carriages, all
spent a good deal of time together, and it was not unusual for ladies to
go a great part of the circuit with their husbands, especially when it
lay in the direction of their own neighbourhood. The Judges' families
often accompanied them, especially at the summer assize, and thus there
grew up close associations between their children, which made their
intimacy almost like that of relationship. Almost all, too, lived in
near neighbourhood in those parts of London that now are comparatively
deserted, but which were then the especial abodes of lawyers, namely,
those adjacent to Bedford Square, where the gardens were the daily
resort of their children, all playing together and knowing one another
with that familiarity that childhood only gives.
'Sir John Patteson's contemporaries have nearly all, one by one, passed
away,' writes one of them, Sir John Taylor Coleridge. 'He has left few,
if any, literary monuments to record what his intellectual powers were;
and even in our common profession the ordinary course and practice are
so changed, that I doubt whether many lawyers are now familiar with his
masterly judgments; but I feel that I speak the truth when I describe
him as a man of singularly strong common sense, of great acuteness,
truthfulness, and integrity of judgment. These were great judicial
qualities, and to these he added much simplicity and geniality of temper
and manners; and all these were crowned by a firm, unhesitating, devout
belief in the doctrines of our faith, which issued in strictness to
himself and the warmest, gentlest charity to his fellow-creatures. The
result was what you might expect. Altogether it would be hard to
say whether you would characterise him as a man unusually popular or
unusually respected.'
Such was the character of Mr. Justice Patteson, a character built upon
the deep, solid groundwork of religion, such as would now be called that
of a sound Churchman of the old school, thoroughly devout and scrupulous
in observance, ruling his family and household on a principle felt
throughout, making a conscience of all his and their ways, though
promoting to the utmost all innocent enjoyment of pleasure, mirth, or
gaiety. Indeed, all who can look back on him or on his home remember
an unusual amount of kindly genial cheerfulness, fun, merriment, and
freedom, i.e. that obedient freedom which is the most perfect kind of
liberty.
Though this was in great part the effect of having such a head of the
family, the details of management could not but chiefly depend upon
the mother, and Lady Patteson was equally loved for her tenderness and
respected for her firmness. 'She was, indeed,' writes her brother, 'a
sweet and pious person, of the most affectionate, loving disposition,
without a grain of selfishness, and of the stoutest adherence to
principle and duty. Her tendency was to deal with her children fondly,
but this never interfered with good training and discipline. What she
felt right, she insisted on, at whatever pain to herself.'
She had to deal with strong characters. Coleridge, or Coley, to give him
the abbreviation by which he was known not only through childhood but
through life, was a fair little fellow, with bright deep-blue eyes,
inheriting much of his nature from her and her family, but not by any
means a model boy. He was, indeed, deeply and warmly affectionate,
but troublesome through outbreaks of will and temper, showing all the
ordinary instinct of trying how far the authorities for the time
being will endure resistance; sufficiently indolent of mind to use his
excellent abilities to save exertion of intellect; passionate to kicking
and screaming pitch, and at times showing the doggedness which is such
a trial of patience to the parent. To this Lady Patteson 'never yielded;
the thing was to be done, the point given up, the temper subdued, the
mother to be obeyed, and all this upon a principle sooner understood
than parents suppose.'
There were countless instances of the little boy's sharp, stormy gusts
of passion, and his mother's steady refusal to listen to his 'I will be
good' until she saw that he was really sorry for the scratch or pinch
which he had given, or the angry word he had spoken; and she never
waited in vain, for the sorrow was very real, and generally ended in
'Do you think God can forgive me?' When Fanny's love of teasing had
exasperated Coley into stabbing her arm with a pencil, their mother
had resolution enough to decree that no provocation could excuse 'such
unmanliness' in a boy, and inflicted a whipping which cost the girl more
tears than her brother, who was full of the utmost grief a child
could feel for the offence. No fault was lightly passed over; not that
punishment was inflicted for every misdemeanour, but it was always
noticed, and the children were shown with grave gentleness where they
were wrong; or when there was a squabble among them, the mother's
question, 'Who will give up?' generally produced a chorus of 'I! I! I!'
Withal 'mamma' was the very life of all the fun, and play, and jokes,
enjoying all with spirits and merriment like the little ones' own,
and delighting in the exchange of caresses and tender epithets. Thus
affection and generosity grew up almost spontaneously towards one
another and all the world.
On this disposition was grafted that which was the one leading
characteristic of Coley's life, namely, a reverent and religious spirit,
which seems from the first to have been at work, slowly and surely
subduing inherent defects, and raising him, step by step, from grace to
grace.
Five years old is in many cases an age of a good deal of thought. The
intelligence is free from the misapprehensions and misty perceptions of
infancy; the first course of physical experiments is over, freedom of
speech and motion have been attained, and yet there has not set in that
burst of animal growth and spirits that often seems to swamp the deeper
nature throughout boyhood. By this age Coley was able to read, and on
his birthday he received from his father the Bible which was used at his
consecration as Bishop twenty-seven years later.
He had an earnest wish to be a clergyman, because he thought saying the
Absolution to people must make them so happy, 'a belief he must have
gleaned from his Prayer-book for himself, since the doctrine was not in
those days made prominent.' The purpose was fostered by his mother. 'She
delighted in it, and encouraged it in him. No thought of a family being
to be made, and of Coley being the eldest son, ever interfered for a
moment. That he should be a good servant at God's altar was to her above
all price.'
Of course, however, this was without pressing the thought on him. He
grew on, with the purpose accepted but not discussed, except from time
to time a half-playful, half-grave reference to himself as a future
clergyman.
Reverence was strongly implanted in him. His old nurse (still his
sister's valued servant) remembers the little seven years old boy, after
saying his own prayers at her knee, standing opposite to his little
brother, admonishing him to attention with 'Think, Jemmy; think.' In
fact, devoutness seems to have been natural to him. It appears to have
been the first strongly traceable feature in him, and to have gradually
subdued his faults one by one.
Who can tell how far this was fostered by those old-fashioned habits
of strictness which it is the present habit to view as repellent? Every
morning, immediately after breakfast, Lady Patteson read the Psalms and
Lessons for the day with the four children, and after these a portion
of some book of religious instruction, such as 'Horne on the Psalms' or
'Daubeny on the Catechism.' The ensuing studies were in charge of Miss
Neill, the governess, and the life-long friend of her pupils; but the
mother made the religious instruction her individual care, and thus
upheld its pre-eminence. Sunday was likewise kept distinct in reading,
teaching, employment, and whole tone of conversation, and the effect was
assuredly not that weariness which such observance is often supposed to
produce, but rather lasting benefit and happy associations. Coley really
enjoyed Bible-reading, and entered into explanations, and even
then often picked up a passage in the sermons he heard at St.
Giles's-in-the-Fields from the Rev. J. Endell Tyler, and would give
his home-oracles no peace till they had made it as clear to his
comprehension as was possible.
The love of his home may be gathered from the fact that his letters have
been preserved in an unbroken series, beginning from a country visit in
1834, after a slight attack of scarlet fever, written in the round-hand
of a boy of seven years old, and finished off with the big Roman
capitals FINIS, AMEN, and ending with the uncompleted sheets, bearing as
their last date September 19, 1871.
The boy's first school was at Ottery St. Mary, in Devonshire, of which
his great-grandfather and great-uncle had both been head-masters.
There was much to make Ottery homelike to Coley, for his grandparents
lived at Heath's Court, close to the church, and in the manor-house near
at hand their third son, Francis George Coleridge, a solicitor, whose
three boys were near contemporaries of Coley, and two of them already in
the school.
From first to last his letters to his parents show no symptom of
carelessness; they are full of ease and confidence, outpourings of
whatever interested him, whether small or great, but always respectful
as well as affectionate, and written with care and pains, being
evidently his very best; nor does the good old formula, 'Your
affectionate and dutiful son,' ever fail or ever produce stiffness.
The shrinking from rough companions, and the desire to be with the
homelike relatives around, proved a temptation, and the little boy was
guilty of making false excuses to obtain leave of absence. We cannot
refrain from giving his letter of penitence, chiefly for the sake of the
good sense and kindness of his uncle's treatment:--
'April 26, 1836.
'My dear Papa,--I am very sorry for having told so many falsehoods,
which Uncle Frank has told mamma of. I am very sorry for having done so
many bad things, I mean falsehoods, and I heartily beg your pardon;
and Uncle Frank says that he thinks, if I stay, in a month's time Mr.
Cornish will begin to trust me again. Uncle Frank to-day had me into his
house and told me to reflect upon what I had done. He also lectured me
in the Bible, and asked me different questions about it. He told me that
if I ever told another falsehood he should that instant march into the
school and ask Mr. Cornish to strip and birch me; and if I followed the
same course I did now and did not amend it, if the birching did not do,
he should not let me go home for the holidays; but I will not catch the
birching...
'So believe me your dear Son,
'J. C. PATTESON.'
On the flap of the letter 'Uncle Frank' writes to the mother:--
'My dear Fanny,--I had Coley in my room to-day, and talked to him
seriously about his misdeeds, and I hope good has been done. But I
could scarcely keep my countenance grave when he began to reduce by
calculation the exact number of fibs he had told. He did not think it
was more than two or three at the utmost: and when I brought him to
book, I had much to do to prevent the feeling that the sin consisted
in telling many lies. However the dear boy's confession was as free
as could be expected, and I have impressed on his mind the meanness,
cowardice, and wickedness of the habit, and what it will end in here and
hereafter. He has promised that he will never offend in future in like
manner, and I really believe that his desire to be away from the school
and at ease among his friends induced him to trump up the invitations,
&c., to Mr. Cornish, in which consisted his first fibs. I shall watch
him closely, as I would my own child; and Cornish has done wisely,
I think, by giving the proper punishment of confining him to the
school-court, &c., and not letting him go to his friends for some time.
The dear boy is so affectionate, and has so much to work on, that there
is no fear of him; only these things must be looked after promptly, and
he must learn practically (before his reason and religion operate) that
he gains nothing by a lie... He is very well, and wins one's heart in a
moment...
'Ever your affectionate Brother,
'F. G. C.'
The management was effectual, and the penitence real, for this fault
never recurred, nor is the boy's conduct ever again censured, though the
half-yearly reports often lament his want of zeal and exertion. Coley
was sufficiently forward to begin Greek on his first arrival at Ottery,
and always held a fair place for his years, but throughout his school
career his character was not that of an idle but of an uninterested
boy, who preferred play to work, needed all his conscience to make
him industrious, and then was easily satisfied with his performances;
naturally comparing them with those of other boys, instead of doing his
own utmost, and giving himself full credit for the diligence he thought
he had used. For it must be remembered that it was a real, not an ideal
nature; not a perfect character, but one full of the elements of growth.
A childish, childlike boy, he was now, and for many years longer,
intensely fond of all kinds of games and sports, in which his light
active form, great agility, and high spirit made him excel. Cricket,
riding, running-races, all the school amusements were his delight;
fireworks for the 5th of November sparkle with ecstasy through his
letters, and he was a capital dancer in the Christmas parties at his
London home. He had likewise the courage and patience sure to be needed
by an active lad. While at Ottery he silently bore the pain of a broken
collar-bone for three weeks, and when the accident was brought to light
by his mother's embrace, he only said that 'he did not like to make a
fuss.'
Consideration for others, kindness, and sweetness of nature were
always his leading characteristics, making him much beloved by all his
companions, and an excellent guardian and example to his little brother,
who soon joined him at Ottery. Indeed, the love between these two
brothers was so deep, quiet, and fervid, that it is hard to dwell on
it while 'one is taken and the other left.' It was at this time a rough
buffeting, boyish affection, but it was also a love that made separation
pain and grief, and on the part of the elder, it showed itself in
careful protection from all harm or bullying, and there was a strong
underlying current of tenderness, most endearing to all concerned with
the boys, whether masters, relations, friends, or servants.