The Henson Journals

[109]

Wednesday, August 17th, 1921.

I attended matins in the cathedral, and then was joined by Williams, with whom I made the tour of the church, working conscientiously through the guide–book, and filling nearly the two hours very pleasantly. We turned up the miséricorde seats, and looked at the beautiful, grotesque,& always interesting carvings. As rain fell almost continuously, we were fortunate in being so comfortably placed.

After lunch the ladies went off in the car to pay calls: Gamble and I walked and talked for two hours. As we stood on a bridge over the Exe by Countess Weir, we were over–taken by two motors, from one of which there descended a man named Swan, whom we met many years ago at Sauchieburn. He was motoring there with his family.

The papers report on a truculent speech from De Valera, in which he reaffirms his demand for an Irish Republic, and refuses to negotiate with Great Britain. This doesn't look promising.

We dined pleasantly enough with no party. Conversation was free enough, and, perhaps, ranged too discursively, for, beyond a vague sense of satisfaction, left nothing in the memory which could make a record.

Somebody thought it worth wile to send me cuttings from the "Morning Post" about the murder of poor old Mrs Lindsay. I share to the full the horror which so cruel a crime must needs provoke in every rightly constituted mind, but what can I do, or what can be done to avenge it?

---