The Henson Journals

[7]

Thursday, April 25th, 1918.

1361st day

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The weather was perfect from beginning to end – the air mild, the sky cloudless, the sun bright & warm. After writing my letters, I motored to Lambton, & spent more than an hour sauntering on the terrace & in the grounds with Lord Durham and Lady Anne. I never felt more strongly the personal charm of that unfortunate and enigmatic nobleman. Both adjectives are fitly applied to him, for what misfortune could be greater than that which bound an affectionate man to a wife who, almost from her marriage day, was a hopeless lunatick? And what enigma could be more baffling than that presented by the combination of so much natural ability and so many inherited advantages with a career so futile & barren? I told him that he ought to use his leisure by writing some record of these times. He seemed struck by the idea, & thanked me for the suggestion: but I fear that he is a creature of impulse, of 'fits & starts', never continuing in one stay. In the afternoon I went to Newcastle, and visited the dentist. On my way home, I ran into Morant, whose only son has just been killed in France. He has the aspect of a man who bleeds inwardly. The Rogersons came to dinner. "Fuzzy" acts as chauffeur. In the "Times" I see the announcement that young Addis has been killed. This news would have been too much for his old father. It is well that he has been taken away in advance of the disaster. There is a brief account of yesterday's proceedings in Durham, and just the truculent piece of my speech!

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