The Henson Journals

[106]

October ^ 19 ^ [20]th, 1902.

On this day, twelve months ago, I preached a sermon at Cambridge, which was decisive of the line which in public affairs I would pursue. Today I take a step which, put at its lowest measure of importance, must be decisive of my personal happiness (so far as that really has any existence), and which probably will determine the credit & power of my ministry. The last days of liberty must be interesting. I devote the last half hour of my freedom to setting on record how I spent yesterday.

Bored to death with the futilities which encumber the road to Christian Matrimony, I fled on Saturday afternoon to my old & dear friend Marsden at Chigwell. Sunday morning was brilliantly fine & seemed to promise (but it was all delusive) a fine tomorrow. I celebrated the Holy Communion at 8 a.m. in the side-chapel of Chigwell Church. The service was very solemn & consolatory. Afterwards Marsden, with pardonable pride, showed to me the new stained glass window (a very beautiful one) recently added to the Church. Then we spent a peaceful hour after breakfast in his beautiful garden, now romantic with rich autumnal tints.

[107]

At Mattins I preached in the parish church an old sermon, which, as it happened, had been heard already by Swallow & the organist. Oddly enough, Swallow had reproduced the text and perhaps the general plan of the sermon on the preceding Sunday, to the no small perplexity of the Chigwellians, who probably concluded that we were both imposters, whom a just Nemesis had exposed! Swallow begged me to talk to the boys of the Grammar School at their Chapel service, which I did, speaking on friendship. After the service Willie Carter, now one of the older boys, came as a deputation from the school to ask for a half-holiday in honour of my marriage. Impudence always prevails in this world, so I gave them their boon. Then I went across to the Vicarage & fetched another old sermon which I preached in the parish Church. It had now begun to rain, & the weather prospects for the morrow looked evil. Marsden & I mournfully drank a nightcap of grog before going to bed. So ended my last day of "unchartered freedom".

[108]

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This morning the outlook was gloomy indeed. Driving rain, & water-soaked dead leaves coming down in a dull succession of falling decay, ominous of all possible calamities. Marsden drove me though the rain to Buckhurst Hill, & came on to Liverpool Street, where we parted, designing to meet again at the Abbey. I proceeded to get shaved, preparing thus for the central catastrophe. Then I drove to Dean's Yard where more presents, and a budget of letters awaited me.

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Issues and controversies: marriage