This period of return to work was marked by many very welcome successes. The consent of Ruskin to the legal transfer of his houses in Paradise Place to Octavia, and the purchase by Mr. Shaen of Freshwater Place were proofs of the stability of her plans.
From 1883 to 1889 lasted the great movement for rescuing Parliament Hill and the neighbouring land from the builder, and adding it to Hampstead Heath; and many other victories in the open space struggle were also achieved at this time.
But perhaps the most remarkable change in Octavia’s position, as a worker, was her appointment by the Ecclesiastical Commissioners to manage a great part of their property in Southwark. She was asked to attend a meeting of that body. They wished to learn if she would buy some old courts belonging to them. This, she said, was impossible. Then they asked if she would take a lease of these same houses; and, when she declined to do so, they asked if she would undertake the management. This she consented to do; and the Commissioners were so much impressed with the capable business-like character of her remarks, and with her subsequent management, that they afterwards extended the territory under her care.
It should be noted, in this connection, that this position gave her the first opportunity of planning cottages, while Red Cross Hall and Garden gave further occasion for her development of entertainments and outdoor-life for the poor. It is in this period also that her links with foreign workers were extended. Some housing work had begun in Paris, at an earlier time; and the translation by H.R.H. Princess Alice of “The Homes of the London Poor” into German had led to the formation of the “Octavia Hill Verein” in Berlin. Swedish and Russian ladies also came to ask advice, and Miss Le’Maire has given an account in an Italian magazine of the impression left upon her by her visit to Octavia.
It was during this time that Octavia took over the management of some houses in Deptford, the care of which seemed to weigh heavily on her mind. If, indeed, one compares her descriptions of these South London courts with the early letters about some of the Marylebone tenants, there can be no reason to suppose that the prospects of improvement were more hopeless in the later effort than in the earlier; but Octavia had now begun to realise that management from a distance was an almost insuperable difficulty; and that to delegate or transfer distant work would become a necessary duty. Although, therefore, marked improvement was made in the relations between her and her Deptford tenants, as will be seen from the letter written in 1885 during the Trafalgar Square riots, she felt it better in the end to hand the care of these houses over completely to a very efficient fellow-worker, who succeeded in managing the courts in a satisfactory way.
A curious incident connected the Deptford work with another successful effort to save an open space. When visiting one of the tenants in Queen Street, Deptford, Octavia noticed a glass filled with flowers, and on enquiry found that they had been picked in a place known as “Hilly Fields.” Octavia was struck with the name, followed up the clue, and eventually succeeded in securing the Fields as a public open space. This story rests on the authority of the American lady, Miss Ellen Chase, who worked with Octavia in Deptford, and who, on returning to Massachusetts, carried out the same principles in the management of houses in her own country.
Now I come to my crowning news. I have had a most grateful and affectionate note from Mrs. Severn, with messages from Ruskin. He gladly accepts my offer for Paradise Place, and will be very glad if I can find a purchaser for Freshwater Place. I think, the receipts and expenditure shewing so very good a balance, I should have no fear of our buying it too ourselves; but there are several things to think of, one being the question of ready money. I must try and take up the things, one after another; they take so much thinking.
This refers to questions of preservation of a common near Sheffield.
I must say in spite of what Mr. H. says I cannot help thinking it would be better to help them, always supposing one could get a barrister, who really cared, and was in earnest.
You see one great reason Mr. Hunter seems to hesitate is, that he says so rich a place as Sheffield ought to do it itself, and that the people of the place have not done much for themselves. But first, it seems to me hard to punish the poor of Sheffield for the omissions of the rich; second, I think the subject still so new that a town may wake up too late, and bitterly regret what it has lost; third, these commons seem to me national treasures, and less and less to concern only the towns or villages nearest to which they happen to be (I am sure we are feeling this just now in this little driving tour); and there is no reason to punish England for supineness on the part of Sheffield; and fourthly, I am not at all sure that Sheffield has been supine. Clearly from Mr. B.’s letter a section of the public there are keenly interested, and have been at work.
All Mr. H. says might tell with a society heavily weighted with past efforts, as I daresay the C.P.S. is, or bound to keep power to take initiatory action where local strength may be forthcoming after a time, but not necessarily governing my decision about the money that I really have in hand, available for precisely the only opportunity open at this moment, by which I can help forward the preservation of commons. Every year that we can keep them, people care more and do more; every acre kept is a certain possession for ever. The more serious point of Mr. Hunter’s letter seems to me that in which he calls Mr. A.’s “not a strong case.” By which I gather that he means not sure to win. But then he goes on to say that it is an important suit, as keeping the common till some plan for regulation can be arranged.
On the whole, therefore, I am strongly inclined to give the money.... If it be lost, in the sense of not winning the suit, and yet if the suit is essential to keeping the question open, it is worth while for someone to be the loser. I expect that causes are like stakes which are driven into a marsh and are buried, but carry the roadway; and who could lose the money better than I, to whom the hope and future are so clear, and to whom people have trusted money, just that I may be able at critical moments to dare something for a great and possible good?
I am indeed delighted to hear that there is a chance of your buying Freshwater Place.
So strongly do I feel about the playground and a garden, so sure am I of the great pressure that would be put upon owners to sell or let, for building a church or a chapel, or a school, or an institution, if not houses, that, quite independently of my old affection and memories of the place and the tenants, I feel as if it must not go into strange hands. I’ve been thinking it all over, and whether I ought to buy it myself; but, if I were ill, or away, or dead, its management might be a trouble to my sisters. Now would you be afraid to share it with me? I couldn’t throw myself into the personal work down there; I couldn’t stand it; but, while I keep at all well, I would look into its affairs, choose and watch its workers, remove or guide them, and have its accounts regularly audited. There would then be an almost certainty of its paying 5 per cent.; and, at the worst, if anything prevents my watching it, you would only have risked half the money.
Oh, dear! I am so thankful about Freshwater Place. I wonder what you will all think of it, and do with it. I hope you do not expect much. It is only when one feels what the narrow courts are, and how the people get maddened with the heat of them in summer, and how the children have no where to play, and how their noise hurts their mothers’ nerves, that one feels what these few square yards of ugly space are.—But, things being as they are in London, that air, that space are quite riches to the poor.
I quite feel what Mr. Shaen says about joint ownership; one never gets the same love for a place, because never the same sense of responsibility.
I have had great pleasure in hearing, thro’ Mrs. Severn, of the arrangements of Marylebone, etc., and am entirely glad the thing should pass into your hands, and that you are still able to take interest in it, and encourage and advise your helpers. I trust, however, you will not be led back into any anxious or deliberative thought. I find it a very strict law of my present moral being—or being anyway—to be anxious about nothing and to determine on nothing!
Letter to a Mr. Green, who had served on the Battersea C.O.C., but who had afterwards broken down in health, and who had sent some flowers for the children of the tenants:—
I do want some common daisy roots, not the double daisy, but the ordinary white daisy. They bloom on and on in London so vigorously, and quite startle one with pleasure, when one comes on these little white flowers, against the dark background of some London court. I think their very simplicity reminds the people of their childhood. As for me, I have quite a longing for them, and have only two here; so I should venture to keep some, if you are good enough to send some. They are things we have never had sent to us; and I do not often get an opportunity of bringing any. But I hope that you will take no real trouble; only we should be glad if it were easy to send them.
We had such a very interesting afternoon at Morris’s. He took us all over the garden and into his study, and such an interesting carpet factory, which reminded me of Megara in its simplicity, silence, beauty and quiet. It was just in his own garden. The tapestry he had been making himself in his study was beautiful!!
All the visitors have now departed except Mrs. S. and myself. I had not been very fortunate in seeing much of Lowell till this morning, when we had a long and very interesting talk over poets and poems, specially Browning and Mrs. Browning. I like Lord Aberdare very much, and had a good deal of interesting talk with him. Of Mr. Hughes I have seen much, and had much talk of old times and people; one felt very heartily and deeply in sympathy with him.... Lord Ducie has been asking me to look over some Greek charts, and tell him about what we saw and did; so I must do it before afternoon tea, to be sure to be ready. Mrs. Lowell is much of an invalid still, having had a terrible fever in Spain, from which she has not recovered. I had a long and interesting talk with her to-day.
The people here look very flourishing. I can’t help thinking education is beginning to tell. The young people look so well-behaved and intelligent and clean. They still spin as they walk in the fields, and weave in their dark hollows of houses; but I hear their voices singing among the olives as they lay out their linen to bleach; and the contadini, who come up with the sleek, well-fed, strong oxen, look comfortable and well-to-do.... I think I shall join some Latin class when I return, tho’ I shall have no advanced pupils. It gives a great freshness to one’s teaching, and there are many little things one might hear that would be useful. I have never heard Latin taught. I wish I could hear of a good teacher. I should care more for that than for an advanced class.... I would rather join a class than have separate lessons. I want to hear other people taught. Individual teachers, if they find you advanced in certain ways, assume that you know the elements.
I must snatch a few minutes to tell you what a great success yesterday was. Everything was so beautifully arranged. Gertrude had thought of everything for the people. To see little Blanche, flitting about in an utterly unconscious state of sweet serviceableness, was quite beautiful. The others too were very good and happy, but nothing to dear little Blanche. We walked across the fields some seventy strong, but they seemed nothing in those wide, free meadows.... The boys went with Mr. Morley, who brought his dog and sent him into the water. The children ran and sang and made merry; the women enjoyed the bright air and quiet. We all relieved them of their babies as much as we could, and we rested often. Near the lane we found little Blanche, blushing with joy and shyness. She led us back; Gertrude and the others came out to receive us, and we turned into the field, which was looking lovely. The children ran to the swings, and began games. Gertrude had had trusses of straw put in a sort of tier of benches up by the summer house, dry and warm, and soft and comfortable. The children had tea there.... The elders had tea at the same time in the garden on the lawn.... We were very strong in entertainers.... The people were delighted with the garden, the field, the house. The boys played cricket with the gentlemen; everyone was amused, and happy, and good. The arrangements were perfection. Two waggonettes took all the women and babies and toddling children back to the station.... Dear little Blanche had her wish about the strawberries. She had an exquisite bunch of flowers, which she gave with her own hands to each grown person before they started....
I have been this morning to see a stately, dear old clergyman, a certain Prebendary Mackenzie, who wrote to me about some ground that the Haberdashers’ Company own. He is a member of the Company, and was to-day to bring before them a plan for using the ground as a garden. It is near Old Street Road. I found such a fine old man, with stately, old-fashioned ways. He was sitting with his wife in a parlour in Woburn Square. I send you some more letters from donors; sums keep coming in. I feel, like Florence, that I like these small sums much.
I have been to-day to see Spitalfields churchyard. It is the one I should like to see laid out.... Mr. Mason had his flower show in the little garden; 400 people came in each night, paying 3d. or 6d. He says this is the first garden fête in Bethnal Green.
I take the liberty of enclosing an article on the Homes of the London Poor, which appeared in the Journal de St. Petersbourg, in which I have expressed very faintly the admiration I feel for your book, and the deeds of which the book gives us a glimpse.
I have scarce the courage of taking any of the time, on which there are so many calls; and yet I would be very grateful if you would glance through my poor attempt, and take it as a proof of my sympathy and respect.
For people who pass their life in wishing they might be useful, there is something saddening, and yet inspiriting, to find that all the time some have been up and doing. That is the mixed feeling with which I read your delightful volume; but what predominated was the pleasure and pride of seeing what a woman can do.
I shall be in London before long, and, if it is not asking too much, may I hope to see you and tell you what I have vainly tried to write?
I am afraid, after all, that I have gone too far, and that when, if ever, I have the pleasure of standing before you, all my courage will evaporate, and I will be utterly unable to express the feelings with which I look up to you, much as a raw recruit on the general who has led victory in many a good fight.
So accept my unexpressed sympathy, and excuse me again for troubling you.
As to the opening of Wakefield Street,[94] the date must depend on the grass. I fear it will have to be late in June.... The more difficult thing, to my mind, is to think of the sort of ceremony that would be interesting, possible, and more than a form. I think the absence of any square space a difficulty. There is no space for speaking, or gathering people together. If we could have had anything like our May festival, and had the poor in, I should have liked it; but I see no space for anything but a procession, which would hardly do. Perhaps some brilliant idea will be suggested....
What a very nice account of the donation fund results! It is just possible Deptford and Southwark may open up new needs to us. If not, you and I will have still further to lay our heads together to spend the money well. It takes a great deal of work to spend well so large a sum. I don’t know if it would suit you for me to come on Saturday; but don’t let a creature know I’m coming, if I do come.
... I have quite a tremendous day on Monday, as I have to take over the Eccles Com. work, and to see to Deptford. Besides the necessary work at home, ... Sir C. Dilke asks me if I can give evidence before the Royal Commission on Tuesday....
What a shame not to tell you of the beauty and the quiet! but it is quite late, and I have written such a number of letters.
... I have read a good deal of Mr. Maurice’s life. How very beautiful it is, specially, I think, the letter written in 1871, on “Subscription no Bondage”! I have also been poring over “Thomas à Kempis,” of which I never tire. To-day at Hillside I read Ruskin’s “Story of Ida.” It reminds me, in its perfect simplicity of narrative, with quiet undercurrent of unobtrusive feeling, of the very early painters’ work. It goes right to one’s heart; and one utterly forgets everything and everyone but the subject. I have read, too, a little of Bret Harte, and liked him better. There was one poem of his about a lost child, found after prayer, and the speaker’s conviction that the angels had taken care of the child, which ends with a quaint, but very natural statement that they were better so employed than “loafing about the throne.” It makes one feel how much more one real memory of an actual deliverance goes home to a man than fanciful descriptions....
I was much interested by your letter. Thank you for it. I have always made the houses under my charge pay 5 per cent.; but it would be a great responsibility to accept for their purchase the entire capital of anyone, and specially of a young lady probably unaccustomed to business. Such undertakings are necessarily subject to the possible variations in value, hitherto certainly advancing, but not necessarily always so, of house property let to working people.
But thank you all the same for thinking of it. The spirit in which you do so makes me think that possibly there might be some other way in which you could help us. I wonder whether you would care to come any day and talk this over with me, so that I could realise the facts; but I assure you the responsibility of even considering your generous project, seeing it relates to your whole capital, is one I could not take.
I have, since I last wrote to you, been successful in establishing my work in South London, according to the long-cherished wish of my heart. In March of 1884, I was put in charge, by the owner, of forty-eight houses in Deptford. In May of the same year, I undertook the care of several of the courts in Southwark for the Ecclesiastical Commissioners. In November of the same year, the Commissioners handed over to me an additional group of courts. In January of 1885 I accepted the management of seventy-eight more houses in Deptford. A friend is just arranging to take forty-one houses in Southwark on lease from the Commissioners. But I hope to retain trained workers and a portion of the tenants in a considerate and responsible way, which is quite independent of me or my advice. I ought, however, to repeat here once more that there is much which is technical, and which must be thoroughly learnt; and that unless intending workers set aside a time to learn their business thoroughly with us or others who have experience, they will do more harm than good by undertaking to manage houses.
One distinct advance, that is noticeable since I last wrote, is the readiness shown by men of business and companies to place their houses under our care. A deeper sense of responsibility as to the conduct of them, a perception of how much in their management is better done by women, and I hope, a confidence that we try faithfully, and succeed tolerably, in the effort to make them prosperous, have led to this result. This method of extending the area over which we have control has been a great help. It has occurred at a time when, owing to the altered condition of letting in London, I could no longer, with confidence, have recommended to those who are unacquainted with business, and who depend on receiving a fair return for their capital, to undertake now the responsibility of purchasing houses.
When we began in Southwark, we secured an almost entirely new group of volunteers, who learnt there under one or two leaders, and who now form a valued nucleus from which to expand further.
In Deptford, I was obliged at first to take with me helpers from some distance, as we had none near there; but gradually, I am delighted to say, we have found many living at Blackheath and its neighbourhood who are co-operating with us; and we hope they, as the years roll on, will be quite independent of us.
Of the success of our work? Well! I am thankful and hopeful. Of course it has varied with the nature and constancy of our workers, and with the response our tenants give us. The new places always tax our strength, and we have had our difficulties in them, but we seem to make steady progress; I feel all must go well in proportion as we love our people and aim at securing their real good, and base our action on wise and far-sighted principles. There is not a court where I do not mark distinct advance; but none know better than I how much more might have been done in each of them, and how much lies before us still to do.
It was, when handed over to me, a waste, desolate place. There had been a paper factory on one half of it, which had been burnt down. Four or five feet of unburnt paper lay in irregular heaps, blackened by fire, saturated with rain, and smelling most unpleasantly. It had lain there for five years, and much rubbish had been thrown in. A warehouse some stories high fronted the street on the other half of the ground, with no forecourt or area to remove its dull height further from the rooms in the model dwellings which faced it. Our first work was to set bon-fires alight gradually to burn the mass of paper. This took about six weeks to do, tho’ the fires were kept alight day and night. The ashes were good for the soil in the garden, and we were saved the whole cost of carting the paper away. Our next task was to pull down the warehouse, and let a little sun in on our garden, and additional light, air and sight of sky to numerous tenants in the blocks in Red Cross Street.
The next work was to have a low wall and substantial iron railings placed on the side bounded by the street, so that the garden could be seen and the light and air be unimpeded.
Then came the erection of a covered playground for the children; it runs the whole length of a huge warehouse which bounds the garden on one side. It is roofed with timber from the warehouse we pulled down, and the roof is supported by massive pillars. The space is paved with red bricks set diagonally, so as to make a pretty pattern. At one end of this arcade is a drinking fountain.
The roof of this covered playground is flat, and forms a long terrace, which is approached by a flight of stairs.
Southwark.
Red Cross Cottages and Garden. Opened June, 1887.
I am much interested in the Spectator cutting, tho’ I believe myself that the strain of living in the worst places would be too trying yet to educated people; it would diminish their strength, and so their usefulness; The reform must be, I believe, more gradual. The newspapers go in for such extremes, from utter separation to living in a court! I should urge the spending of many hours weekly there, as achieving most just now, because it is less suicidal than the other course, and more natural.
Dissentis seems to me a very old-world place. A dear old lady keeps the inn, which is very comfortable; but one seems nearer the life of the people here than where modern hotels have invaded.... How striking to me is the character of every separate house in these valleys. Something, of course, is due to the varieties of the ground, but much, too, I cannot help seeing, to the fact that the houses belong to the inhabitants. I wonder if we shall live to see a larger number of English owners? I doubt it. It seems to me that the impediments come by no means mainly from the landlords. Of course they would cling, especially in towns, to possession where value is rising, but I doubt the tenants caring to buy much for occupation. They, like the landlords, like to buy houses rising in value, with an idea of letting or selling; but few, I fancy, desire to bind themselves to one spot and way of life. They like the freedom and the change of hiring. Even young married people, who, as a class, settle in with most sense of attachment to place and things, expect to move to another neighbourhood if work changes, or to a larger house if it prospers. Perhaps it is partly the great cost of living, and the fact that rent has to be paid. But one rarely sees in English towns a house lived in by a family for generations, the large families filling from cellar to attic, and the small ones using the best rooms mainly. One fancies a small family should like a small house. Whereas clearly houses in the country in old times must have been handed down to very various occupants. Some little sense of individuality would be quickly stamped, even on London houses, if they were owned by occupiers. But the attachment to things seems giving place to a desire for their perfection, and we seem inclined rather to hire furniture or appliances for special occasions than to accept, even our houses, as in any way permanent. If they don’t suit us, for the moment, we change them. Well there is a noble independence of things as well as a noble attachment to them; and “the old order changeth, giving place to new, And God fulfils Himself in many ways.” There will have to come back, however, in one form or another, that element of rest in which alone certain human virtues can live; but it may come in ways we do not know.
All is very bright and well with us here, except poor Queen Street, which is a constant anxiety. My great fear is that Mr. T. will sell it, and take the management out of my hands. I am sure we should get on in time. However, all that is out of my hands. I don’t know that I could have done differently at any juncture; and so I must just abide the result, and accept it as purposed, and look to see what next opens out; meantime, till it is decided, I am clinging on to the hope of it rather passionately. The MacDonalds came to town yesterday. I am to dine there on Tuesday.... I’ve been preparing my corn for a green refreshment to us a little later, and putting in my hyacinths. It is a great delight to me to come back to such things from Deptford.
We hear that the Metropolitan Board received the subject of Parliament Hill favourably.... There came in a petition from representative working men.... There were trade societies, co-operative societies, benefit societies represented. Mr. B. said the co-operative signatures represented 2,000 working men. The petition from East End Clergy had fifty names of clergy and dissenting ministers, and the list was headed by the Bishop of Bedford....
Octavia goes down to Lady Ducie for three days. I shall be glad of the change of thought for her. She is so worn with Deptford. Things are still very discouraging there; they seem unable to get respectable tenants, the new ones they hoped were good, turning out unsatisfactory. Still helpers are rallying round her.... It is nice to find old pupils coming to the front.
Octavia will have told you the result of the meeting of the Hampstead Heath Committee re Parliament Hill extension. Everyone seems to say “Go on agitating thro’ the Press, and get the matter well before the public, there is yet hope.” But I think Octavia has little hope.
Did I tell you about the old woman at Deptford who said to Octavia in a voice of reassurance and yet wonder, “You have feelings! When you first came you did not know us, and we did not know you; but you have feelings!” As if O. would be as surprised as she was at the discovery!
King (a Deptford tenant) had torn his garden all to pieces and broken pale of fence and windows here and there, and did not show himself at all. We were non-plussed. First I hoped to slip notice under door, but the weather-board was too close; that is a reason against putting them on. Then we debated how legal a service pinning to the back door would be, but Mr. P. thought it would be awkward if I was summoned for breaking into his premises; and to post it we thought would not be customary; so we were balked and Mrs. Lynch smiled sweetly all the time at her door. Mrs. T. had the cheek to offer nothing, so I took her a notice. I gave out several jobs of cleaning to even off the £7. Mrs. Sandal’s cistern was leaking worst sort. Matthews and Arter both said floor too old to pay for removal. My unlets have come down 10s.
I am so much interested to hear of all you have been seeing; but I think I’d better write of things here. I’ve just come back from a Hampstead Heath Committee,—a large, strong, determined one. They decided to bring a Bill into Parliament. Mr. S. Lefevre and Mr. Hunter went off to see Lord Mansfield’s agent....
1 think Deptford is in a very thriving state in many ways; we are getting in such a quantity of local strength.
Miranda seems to me very happy, and, I hope, tolerably well. Her sweetness with everyone is beyond description, and also her merry fun over all that takes place. She is quite delightful as a coadjutor, bringing all the people so sweetly together, and never making difficulties in anything; and all her spirits and power come out....
The Bishop of Manchester’s death is greatly felt. They say Jews, Catholics, the Greek Patriarch and people of all kinds went to the memorial service, and that they call him the “Bishop of all denominations.”
... It is very delightful to escape to sunlight and colour here from Deptford and London. All, however, is, I think, going towards good with us in the work. Mr. T. is prepared to spend a good deal on the houses, with a view of raising the property; and I hope it may be a help to us in raising the people. I hope and believe too that I and my workers are all better for a certain amount of difficulty, and unpopularity; and that it tests them, and draws them together. In these days when benevolence is popular, I think we may be thankful to have difficulty to surmount. All my workers have stood to their guns splendidly, and have been so helpful too.
We have been having much busy and interesting work of various kinds. No. 8 B. Ct. has been handed over to us in an awful state of dirt and dilapidation, and we are busy with estimates and workmen. Miss J.’s new houses in Southwark will be ready at Xmas; and the company which owns the new blocks there have made repeated application to us to manage for them. Miss J. seems inclined to get a group of workers round her, and do this....
The Hampstead Heath meeting was in some respects satisfactory.... Still the money needed is so large, and only the Met. Bd. can do it, and there isn’t a sign they will; so I have next to no hope, or rather expect something to turn up, if success is to come.... I have been more successful than I at one time feared about the dilapidation money at Pn. Street; but it is still bad enough.... I am just back from Deptford. I really do think it is getting on.... The houses are filling slowly. We are getting much more local co-operation....
I dined at Lord Hobhouse’s on Friday. Mr. Ghose, an Indian gentleman, and his wife were there, Mr. Ghose’s brother is standing for Deptford. Lord H. says he would not have a chance with a middle-class or rich constituency; but that there is a strong feeling among the working men that he ought to get in.... We have a group of co-operators, who have taken Miss Y.’s hall for a monthly gathering. The tenants’ plays, one for grown up people and two for children, are in full swing.
Thank you for your sweet birthday letter.... To-night we are having some charades in honour of Mr. MacDonald’s birthday. The house is large and full and happy, and I think very good for Edmund. To-day we have rain.
It is strange they prophesied rain yesterday, in consequence of a practice, or rather sham fight, of the French men-of-war. We heard a violent noise at dinner yesterday; and, going up to the loggia to discover the cause, we saw seven large men-of-war. They said they were 5 miles off, and that they often went out from some bay near Cannes, where they spend the winter, to practise firing. We could see them all confused in the smoke, and the great heaving mass of water somehow caused by the firing,
The MacDonalds are getting up all manner of Christmas things, among others a series of sacred tableaux; they say the peasants come from far and near to see them.
The little Octavia is a sweet child. It is very touching to see Mrs. MacDonald with her, and also to see young Mr. Jamieson’s widowed house, with all the things Grace made and did.... I try not to think too much of you all, and of all the things at home, but you will realise how much my heart turns to England. However, I mean to have a really good holiday. It is very restful here, at once very homelike, and yet with no duties. MacDonald’s bright faith and sweet sympathy are beautiful; and I must say Mrs. MacDonald’s way of gathering people in is delightful to me.