The Henson Journals

[396]

12th Sunday after Trinity, September 10th, 1916. Windsor.

769th day

For some reason I could not sleep, but tossed about in my bed, and at last turned up the electric light, & started reading that very interesting collection of Lectures on "The Origins of Christianity" by the late Prof. Bigg. I read the chapters on S. Clement of Rome, and Hermas. The last is an odd creature, & curiously potent in the later history of the Church.

'He lies rather outside the direct line of ecclesiastical tradition. But many of his most peculiar and least pleasing ideas were destined to reappear and play a considerable part in the making of the Church. The bent of the later Church was in fact impressed upon it not by powerful or lucid thinkers, not by the great doctors, only in part by great organizing bishops. The movement came rather from obscure & uneducated enthusiasts of much the same type as Hermas'. (p. 84)

This sets one thinking. Indeed, when one reflects on the course of ecclesiastical politics, as they now proceed here in England, can one deny that this strange law of direction from below still holds? These perfervid Ritualists and Missioners are the really prevailing powers in the Anglican sphere. The Methodists in the 18th century – absurd, corybantic, often antinomian – ousted the learned pundits & philosophers, and transformed the Church of England. Only when the Tractarian movement laid hold of the illiterate, & in the form of "Ritualism" became popular, did it acquire the same force. Now it has re–placed 'Evangelicalism' as the dominant force in the Church. The socialistic–sacerdotalist is now beginning to oust the 'Ritualist'. The last is lower middle–class, & half–educated: but the other has superior claims to supremacy. It is recruited from the labouring multitude, & has no tincture of education.

[394]

I was called at 7 a.m.: and some excellent tea was brought to me, & of this I was more than commonly glad as my sleepless night had left me in some dishevelment! Then I discovered that the service at S. George's was not until 8.30 a.m. so there was half an hour on my hands. I went to S. George's at the time appointed, & took my place in the stalls, being asked by the vergers to have two places vacant in case the Princess comes. Shepperd [Sheppard] celebrated: there were, perhaps, a score of communicants mostly women. Then I returned to the Castle, where my Guardian Angel waited to steer me to the breakfast–room. The Dean conducted the service. I read the 1st Lesson, and preached. The Lesson was that wonderful account of Micaiah's prophecy of disaster to Ahab, and Ahab's miserable fate. It seemed almost brutally personal to fire it at such range into the Royal Pew. My text was Jeremiah ix.23, 24. The sermon was, perhaps, too remote from the absorbing interest of the War to be quite acceptable. However, their Majesties sat through it with exemplary patience. With them were Princess Mary, and a weedy–looking youth, whom I suppose to be Prince Albert.

On returning to my room, I wrote to Carissima. At Lunch I had a keen & interesting discussion with Sir Douglas Dawson, who impresses me as an intelligent and experienced man. He was military attaché at various foreign courts for many years, and evidently speaks of foreign affairs with exceptional information & understanding. I returned to my room, and was writing a letter to Olive, when a message was brought that the King & Queen were going to walk, & invited their guests to accompany them. So I abandoned my epistle, and addressed myself to a new experience.

[392]

We all met on the East Terrace – their Majesties with Princess Mary & Prince Albert, & the household with the guests – and walked for more than an hour returning just in time for Evensong in S. George's Chapel, which all the Royal Family attended. I enjoyed the walk thoroughly, for not only did I get some talk with Princess Mary, but a good deal with the King. Indeed he kept me by his side all the return journey. He speaks too much, but with a candour & naturalness which are very taking. The Queen's occasional remarks are always very sensible. The King is very emphatic in his approval of Archbishop Laud's Prayer, which was used in the Private Chapel, & said a copy should be given me. This I found awaiting me on my return from a walk with Canon Dalton which I took after Evensong. He tells me that the custom of having the Preacher's text sent in to the Sovereign beforehand does not go back beyond Queen Victoria, who found difficulty in hearing the preachers, and so ordered this arrangement which at least guaranteed her a knowledge of their texts!

Also, I called on the Dean, and had tea with him. I wrote to Olive as I had promised. At dinner I sate next the Queen with Princess Mary on my other side, and I had very pleasant conversation with both ladies. The Princess is a very candid, simple girl, quite natural and unspoiled. I told her of the verger's remark to me in S. George's at the early Communion, and said that I rejoiced at the side–light it cast on her personal habits. After dinner I had but little talk with the King, for I kept myself steadily in the back–ground, not wishing to seem aggressive. And I was rewarded by some interesting conversation with Mr Verney. However the King made tracks for me, & had some talk before going.

[390]

He told me that he shared with Henry VIII the distinction of having no less than three plates under his Garter Banner viz. as Duke of York, as Prince of Wales, & as Sovereign. I told him what the Dean of Windsor told me this afternoon: When the workman took down the Banners of the German Emperor and others, he turned to the Dean & said, Wouldn't you like to spit on them, Sir? The King laughed heartily at this story. Both their Majesties expressed themselves with much kindness as they said Goodnight. The Queen observed, 'I hope it won't be so long before you come again': to which I rejoined that it would always be a pleasure to me to obey His Majesty's command. Also I pledged Princess Mary & Prince Albert to come and see Durham. I inquired of one of the Household what was customary in the way of a 'Collins' to a Royal Hostess. He said that it would suffice if I wrote to the Master of the Household. So I ended a very pleasant and interesting day. There can be no question that the King and Queen are splendid hosts, and for the best of reasons. They are genuinely kind people, and fundamentally sincere. This is much to say of anyone, very much to say of Royal persons. Nevertheless I do not think it is too much to say in this case. Everybody seems bent on making one comfortable: and if one does not feel at home in Windsor Castle, the fault is wholly one's own. The King told me that the geraniums in front of Buckingham Palace cost no less than £500: and that he had ordered them to be dispensed with by way of effecting a 'war–economy'.

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