The Henson Journals

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15th Sunday after Trinity, August 31st, 1913.

'The ink of the scholar is more holy than the blood of the martyr'.

(The Sayings of Muhammad, p. 126)

Because not only does the martyr's blood tell nothing of the quality of the cause for which it was shed, but also it may, (& in fact commonly has been,) have been shed apart from the deliberate purpose of the Martyr, violently & against his wishes. Nor does the shedding of his blood provide any trustworthy certificate of the martyr's character, which may even be despicable. The ink of the scholar must mean his intellectual habit expressing a noble direction of the mind, a high type of ability, & a worthy ordering of life.

I celebrated the Holy Communion at 8 a.m: and read the second Lesson at Evensong. That was the whole of my personal service. Knowling preached a very charming sermon at Mattins. He came to lunch, & the Robinsons also. The Cruickshanks came to tea to see the Inges. I took Mary Scott for a short walk afterwards.

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The Dean of St Pauls and Kitty went off to Inverary by the early train. Ella and I went later to Ripon, in order to dine & sleep with the Barrans. The motor car met us at the station: we picked up Lady Barran in the town: & drove out to the house – a solid comfortable mansion, well placed on high ground, & commanding a noble prospect over Yorkshire. Rendall, the Headmaster of Winchester, was staying there, & Dr Parkes, the father of Lady B. The next morning we were taken by Sir John to the fine ruins of Fountains Abbey, & from thence went on to Ripon. We returned to Durham in company with Rendal [sic], who was visiting Cruickshank. We with Mary Scott dined with the Cruickshanks the same evening.

On Wednesday, the 3rd September, the newspapers reported a terrible railway accident near Carlisle on the Midland line. We travelled into Scotland in order to pay some visits. At Edinburgh Archie Parker–Smith met us: we drove in a taxi (12/–) to Linburn, the new house which the Parker–Smiths have made their home. The weather was damp & dismal.

On Thursday, the 4thSeptember, I wrote letters to 1. The Dean of St Paul's, 2. Caröe, 3. Olaf, 4. Fearon, 5. Mitchell, 6. The Bp. of Southampton.

After lunch mine host walked us round the estate which is considerable.

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Mr Harrison, the quondam gardener of mine host has been appointed head gardener on a big House some 9 miles from Oxford. He & his wife are religious folks, & desire to find a church where they may worship God regularly. They wished to know whether they could communicate in the parish church. I could but answer that they could certainly do so legally & morally, but it was by no means certain that the parish clergyman would admit their right, for he might be a High Churchman inwardly persuaded that Confirmation was indispensable in a communicant. However I bade him not hesitate to present himself for Communion: &, if the parson objected, to reply boldly that the Abp. of Canterbury & other leaders of the Church of England approved his action. He inquired whether a letter from his parish clergyman transferring him as a Communicant to the new parish would be serviceable; & I was obliged to say that such a letter would not help matters, & might be even mischievous. But it is very humiliating that a decent Christian desiring only to do his duty should be disturbed by such dubieties.

The parish minister of Kirk Newton – Mr Gardiner – & his wife came to tea. We had a good bit of conversation on affairs ecclesiastical.

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I read on mine host's recommendation "The Tragedy of Pompey the Great by John Masefield" (Sidgwick & Jackson). It interested me sufficiently to secure my reading it through, & induced a wish to read the author's other work.

The lines on the fly–leaf are worth noting.

And all their passionate hearts are dust,

And dust the great idea that burned

In various flames of love & lust

Till the world's brain was turned.

God, moving darkly in men's brains,

Using their passions as his tool,

Brings freedom with a tyrant's chains

And wisdom with the fool.

Blindly and bloodily we drift,

Our interests clog our hearts with dreams.

God make my brooding mind a rift

Through which a meaning gleams.

I read another poem by John Masefield, "The Widow in the Bye Street", a very dolorous tragical composition.

Also "Salt–water Ballards" by the same author.

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Ella went off to visit the inevitable Helensburgh, (Friday Sept. 5th), and I occupied myself in my room by writing letters. I wrote to Balfour Wilson at Dharmsala.

After lunch I walked for an hour; then went round the garden with Kathleen, who has grown wonderfully (she was 15 last April 11th), manifests far more intelligence than my recollections of her had led me to expect. Then, after tea, I read through rather hastily Arthur Benson's 'Ruskin, a Study in Personality' (Smith, Elder, Co.)

Two of mine host's brothers have arrived – Charles, the Consul at Odessa, George the soldier from Chatham. This family has much vigour capacity. I have now met five of the six brothers, all are evidently succeeding in their several careers. The parson I have not yet seen.

The papers today contain another letter from Lloyd George to Lord Wolmer. It is written with extreme violence. He gives the lie direct on the subject of the alleged reporter's mistake, refers to his critic as "creatures of this kind"! Of course, he speaks darkly of the corrupt practices of the Cecils, suggests that, if driven to it, he also 'could a tale unfold'. Thus the volume of 'praeternatural suspicion' – the very temper of bloody revolutions – waxes: and the conditions of vast tragedies are being created. From Ireland the tidings are ever more sinister: the Trade Union Congress simply rages rants.

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This morning (Saturday, Sept. 6th 1913) I have been trying to get some information from Charles Smith, the Consul at Odessa, about Russia. The attempt is more arduous than remunerative: for he possesses to the full that taciturnity which is sometimes the seal of abnormal wisdom, sometimes the screen of mental vacuity. He evidently holds the Russians in contempt as semi–civilized: prefers the Germans. I asked whether he thought the present regime in Russia was stable: he replied that probably it was. Nobody really wished to destroy the Tsar, inaugurate a long regency by Grand Dukes. I inquired as to the Russian Church. He answered that it was stricken with avarice rather than stained with immorality. He thought the priests generally were "out for money". Here he allowed himself in a gibe against 'all official religions', which led me to observe on the moral impotence of the non–established churches, as well in America Australia as in Great Britain. This induced a sudden lapse into the normal taciturnity which brought our conversation to a close!

After lunch we resumed discussion on another topic. Charles Smith carried out delimitations of frontiers in East Africa: the notorious Peters being the German commissioner. Of this man he had formed the lowest opinion. The root of much failure in officials in Africa lay in their total lack of training for the situation in which they found themselves – unlimited authority no public opinion overseeing its exercise. In treating natives [427] the really essential matter was being just. Degrees of severity mattered little provided there was justice. He thought there was distinct improvement in the type of British official now going out to Africa. He told rather an amusing story of Bishop Smythies who ordered the immediate removal of tokens, which he assumed to be symbols of devil worship, discovered to his confusion were the work of the British Commissioner!

We walked to the house of the Earl of Morton, a dilapidated mansion set in an ample park. It contains some valuable portraits by Gainsborough, Hoppner, others: but the factor had mislaid the printed list, was totally ignorant. One very interesting object was a large piece of tapestry worked by Mary, Queen of Scots, her ladies in Lochleven in 1567–8.

In the Book shelf in my bedroom I found a book with some curious notes of a visit to Durham. Its title runs:–

'A Bibliographical │ Antiquarian Picturesque │ Tour │ in the │Northern Counties of England │ and in │ Scotland │by the Reverend │ Thomas Frognall Dibdin, D.D. │ Chaplain in Ordinary to Her Majesty │London 1838.

The Author put up 'at the principal Inn, as it is called, 'The Waterloo', but both in going returning we wished ourselves away'. He observes 'that the general run of the inns on the North Road by no means equals that on the Western Road'. (p. 260)

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"One of my constant attendants was the Rev. Mr Smith, a minor canon; a gentleman of the most active courtesy. On first entering the cathedral, it was the time of vespers: or afternoon service. The organ was in full play. Many steps were heard to and fro upon the rectangular pavements. The gigantic Norman pillars, superincumbent massive arches, make you conceive that this edifice was built for eternity. After York, it has an air of clumsiness coarse grandeur: but this is comparing the symmetry of maturity with the gaucherie of early life… The screen of separation between the nave the choir must not be mentioned in comparison with that at York. The stalls are also stunted and clumsy. The altar screen is of comparatively diminished dimensions. We entered the choir just before the anthem, were seated to the right. The Dean – the Bishop of St David's – was not in residence, but I observed the Bishop of Chester, one of the prebendaries, occupying his particular stall. Neither Mr Townsend nor Mr Gilly appeared to be residing. On the conclusion of the service, while standing in the centre of the pavement under the tower, the good Bishop was so obliging as to advance towards my daughter self, request our companies at dinner. The Mayor some of the Corporation came to dine with [429] him: the banquet was at once liberal choice. After dinner, one of the choristers came en costume to chaunt a grace – always observed at this particular annual dinner. It was to me both striking touching: his Lordship, on the dismission of the chorister, slipt a gratuity into his hands."

On p. 288 there is quoted from Raine the following note about the treasures in the Chapter Library:–

'These specimens of ancient art and taste are now safe: for college nurses are not now permitted to go into the library in wet weather, and cut out the illuminations to amuse the children under their care. Such things were: this Book (Bishop Pudsey's Bible) in particular has suffered severely. Other volumes, brilliantly illuminated, have been shamefully despoiled of their decorations. The nurse of Dr Dobson – about the beginning of the last century – was the reputed perpetrator of these abominations'.

On p. 303, from 'The Bishoprick Garland' p. 312, is quoted:–

'On certain occasions, a person is sent to Durham to summon the Dean Chapter to York, to do some act of submission, – to which the Dean Chapter of Durham answer, "Your message is impertinent".'

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