Lord Aberdare is Chairman of the Royal Commission on Pensions for the Aged Poor, before which Octavia gave evidence last week. He had been abroad, and so was not present when she gave evidence; but he said playfully he hoped they had treated her properly in his absence, and said that Chamberlain had “acknowledged himself vanquished.” Octavia had to answer some rather catchy questions from him; but her clear, cool head enabled her to come out with triumph. One of the Commissioners afterwards laughed and said to her privately, “How well you tackled Joe!” and “You did stand up to Joe!” with great wonder and glee. Octavia said to Lord Aberdare that the Commissioners had made long statements of their views, and had asked her whether she agreed with these, and that it was rather difficult to follow and to reply.
I am returning, with many thanks, “Ruskin’s Life.” It is, even to me, wonderful reading, when one gets a sort of living impression of the whole, by reading it thro’. One or two of the apparent failures brought tears to my eyes, and the memory of the words,—
Then, when one thinks of what the world was in his early days, and what it is now, and what his share in its attainment of higher ideals and simpler life, one realises something of what he has achieved.
The picture of the Brantwood life was, to me, specially charming. Some of the book was, as you will know, exquisitely painful. But I cling on to greater confidence in silence than in words. The chasms and ruins of tempest and earthquake are healed best by the quiet growth of all that is lovely and gentle; but Time is needed. Time, and to be let alone.
... Queen Street goes wonderfully. Miss Gee does wonders there. I have been collecting on your side, and greatly do I enjoy it. I have with me, usually, there a charming young lady, Miss Ter Meulen from Amsterdam, who is spending a few months in England, to prepare for taking up houses in her own country. She is full of power, brightness, and sweet human sympathy. Mrs. C. is clear, never missed a 6d., as she promised you, very righteous and grand now; the home looks very happy and comfortable. Mrs. L. is taking pattern by her, is paying 3d., without fail, but still has £2 7s. 0d. to clear. Poor Mrs. M. met with bad accident, a barrel from a dray fell on her, and she has been in bed for weeks; but M. says with a real loving smile, “I shall have her about again by Xmas.” C. is out of work! Maria C. is as responsible and satisfactory as ever. Her influence tells at home; the place is a pattern of neatness. Bridget C. is married; at first I thought the others were going to the dogs without her, and her husband wouldn’t let her live in the street; but we had one row with old C., conquered him, and began on sound footing....
Thank you very much for report of Public Reservations. It is most useful. Mr. Rawnsley has taken up the idea of a similar trust; we are getting it up, and had a first meeting this month. Forty-one acres of Hilly Fields are really bought; the four acres of Glebe still hang fire. I am invited to unveiling of Lowell’s Memorial at the Abbey on Tuesday; I should like to go, but it is just in the heart of Southwark work. Can I go?
How very, very long it is since we met! but how the memory of all the love of years abides and grows!... It was a very holy and quiet birthday; just at Mr. Alford’s church, with Mama and the beloved Hampstead circle. Miranda and Mama wrote me lovely poems with their presents, and flowers poured in; but they were just from the near circle, or very old friends.... I had arranged not to go to Red Cross in order to go to Mama....
Hast thou seen Lowell’s letters? They are full of fun, but with a great vein of tenderest pathos too.
Octavia gave evidence the other day before a Committee on the subject of the Unemployed. She is strongly against exceptional measures. She was examined for an hour and a quarter, and her friends on the Committee note that her evidence did good. It took us nearly six hours to correct the proofs of her evidence.
What you say about work with me makes me very longing. But, dearest Maggie, I would be the last to say a word to urge you to strain to do what would risk your health. It is such a blessing that you are back among your friends. Only don’t forget me, and let less scrupulous friends press you in, and make me lose you, if even you can do more, and might have come to me. What I have always thought that I should like best of all—what would have seemed to me to have opened up the maximum of help with the minimum of exertion,—what would have brought us together, and would have given us the benefit of your judgment and sympathy in most useful manner, would have been to let us elect you on the Women’s University Settlement Committee. It meets only once a month. Miss Sewell brings up the work in a quite perfect way; and, thro’ her, one comes into touch with that second stage of life—the one of helping others—which opens out to so many Girton, Newnham, and other girls in this age of service. Your presence among us would be the greatest help.
But, as I say, my most earnest desire is to stand aside, and not by word, look, or deed press you, till you feel able. Indeed, one knows how little one can plan for another. Ways we know little of open for our friends, and lead to better things than our most loving and longing thoughts can imagine.
Here we are, in the quaintest city. It is called the Nuremberg of Italy, and is full of marvellous doorways, fountains, outside staircases, and towers. It is entirely surrounded by walls. The foundations are Etruscan. The people come riding in from the country on mules, with trousers of goat or sheepskin with the hair on, and leather at the back where the saddle would wear it. They have hugely long sticks for whips, and look wild and good-bye.... Florence would delight in the great cavern-like looking shops, with the people at work in them, and in the streets; and everything goes on out of doors, and the workman makes and sells his own goods at home. We see several hand-looms in the streets. We have been to the Cathedral, and the Council Chamber adjoining, the roof of which fell on its proud builder and killed him, and which has stood roofless for some two or three hundred years. A monk was awakened from a vision in which he saw a black man, who was the devil, striking the wall. First he called the people to help the pope, who had built the chamber; but then he cried out that it was too late—the pope was dead. We go on to-morrow to Narni, and on Monday to Terni. We have here a large vaulted bedroom, about three times the size of the drawing-room at Nottingham Place, with three great doors draped with curtains, a marble floor, and large window looking into the Piazza de Rocca. A great fountain plays therein, and across it pass the soldiers, the monks in procession, the country people coming in by the Fiorentino Gate of the city. It is somewhat like a huge cave at night with two candles; but most Italian by day.
... We have just come down from Amelia. It is one of the oldest cities in Italy, much older than Rome. There is, however, nothing left of the very old times, except the huge stones of its walls. One can well see how strong it must have been. The river folds round its base almost in a circle; and the deep ravine goes all round, and is set with colossal crags. It is a picturesque place; and, living as we did opposite its gate, we saw all the life which assembled there. Viterbo was much fuller, of course, of artistic and historic treasures; but it was sad to hear of the country being so rough. M. Shaen’s friend, a Mr. Fisher, who has travelled about much, and collected such lovely things, was kind enough to make enquiries for us of various people. They say the brigandage is extinct, but the country quite unsafe. One proprietor there pays blackmail to two wild sorts of outlaws, and they keep off others! The professor, who superintends the Etruscan discoveries, has had to give up going; they all agreed English people were much safer; but all also told us it would be risky to be about the country. So, as we cared little for the towns, and wanted too to drive, we came over at once to this side, which is quite different. We had the funniest arrangement at Viterbo—a palatial bedroom, large, vaulted, and grand, but no food to be had except from a little café. At Amelia it was a small country inn, quite in the country, and with lovely views, but all the arrangements very queer. Here we are back in a regular good hotel with all the comforts of civilised life.
Mary Harris did enjoy the time! She was delighted to see Octavia; said she felt her “so life giving,” and compared her to Herakles in Balaustion. She was struck with the combination of the poetical with the practical, and said, “I am glad to have seen that side too!” She enjoyed Octavia’s reading of poetry.
I am very sorry not to get up to see you.... I write this in the train en route for Southwark. I have been paddling about all the morning in the courts, with Sir Talbot and Lady Baker, Miss Marriott, Lady B.’s sister, Miss Sim, the surveyor to the estate, a builder and a leaseholder. Such a funny and large company. We were discussing the future of the various cottages and blocks. It was very satisfactory to meet so large-hearted and liberal an owner, and to feel so trusted as to one’s opinion. We planned several nice things. I had been dreading an interview, as there were many difficulties, but all went splendidly. We are getting most responsive and happy replies about the Browning lectures that we are getting up for the pleasure of our friends.... We have nearly finished the alteration in one of the three Settlement houses, and come into full possession of the second on Nov. 14; so we are very busy with plans and estimates. I am also busy with plans for two sets of new cottages near Lisson Grove, besides taking over 19 from the Comrs. in Pimlico.
We are in full swing with the Hall, and all is going well there. We had such exquisite flowers last Sunday, sent from Blackmore, and such beautiful singing. The Hall was full.
I wonder how Florence’s Dante reading went to-day. It would be a very discouraging day for any but the strong to venture out. I fear, my darling Minnie, it isn’t very propitious for your swift recovery....
Mr. Chubb has actually got the deed conveying the Cliff at Barmouth.[123]
I can hardly yet realise what the void in my life will be from the loss of the friend of some thirty years, and of such a friend. She was quite unique, the majesty of intellect being only equalled by the depths of her affection, and the greatness of her spirit. The intercourse has been unclouded for all these years; and there will be a void that nothing can fill. Still all this is a great possession, and one to be thankful for; and I feel very near her now, and will try to live better for the sight of what such a spirit can be.
Letter about a book called “Neighbours of Ours,” a series of East End scenes.
I have received your most kind letter and the book. I am very much pleased to possess it, but feel rather ashamed at your having the trouble to send it to me. Thank you for it very much.
It is quite true that I have been deeply interested in it. It seems to me an absolutely true picture of people in a stratum of society never before described in literature. It is a picture drawn with real human sympathy, and shows, in a beautiful way, how human affection survives, as the divine spark, in the midst of much degradation. The dramatic power of the book seems to me remarkable; the only time that the author reveals himself is in the tenderness of the chosen title, which should go home to us as a rebuke, but to the people as a pledge of deep human sympathy.
I fear the book will be little understood. I can think of but few who will pierce below the low state of civilisation to what is good; and the absence of the sentimental pictures of virtues our Londoners have not, which prevail in current writing, will deceive many. But, for the few who know or who can see how much mess and confusion co-exist in men with sparks of created nobleness, the book will be a record and a treasure. Thank you for it very much.
The fun is most refreshing.
Thank you for the key of the bureau, I shall care much to have the bureau; having been Lady Ducie’s, it will come like a message.
I don’t think you want me to thank you. You feel, and want me to feel, that the gift comes from her; but you know that I do feel your kindness about it all.[124]
I write just a few words to congratulate you on the thorough success of the day. I thought it went beautifully. Tho’ I saw so little of you, I was conscious thro’out of your being there, and of how much all owed to your being owner and head; but most I was thinking that, for you, as for me, the place was alive with memories. There were to us both Presences plain in the place; and, as Browning says, there were both kinds, those who are to be, and to inherit the world we are trying to make fitter for them, as well as the
They all seemed so really among us that sometimes I could hardly think of anything tangible to be done. Truly did I think of Ruskin’s passage about Association, and how places become enriched by the life that has been passed in them. You will know the passage well.
... You will be sorry to hear that Miss Plunkett has resigned her Hon. Sec. ship for the Hall. She gives it up after the Flower Show. It will be a great loss; in fact it will alter what it is possible to do there. I never find anyone take another’s place. Work becomes different with a new worker. I always find help when it is really needed; but I do wonder where this is coming from. However there is time. I had a delightful visit from Miss Tait. She is going to build three cottages on a small bit of freehold ground near Lambeth Palace. She brought me the plans and such a lovely sketch of the outside. The Eccles. Commrs. lent her the plans, etc., of ours, and she said to me, “You have fired them with interest about building cottages!” Miss Tait has a lease of the court at the back, so she will have quite a little colony there, and Miss Neilson is helping her. Also Miss Gee has been put in charge of some dreadfully managed blocks close to Mrs. Blyth’s which were a great annoyance to them. This is nice in every way.... I have done all my work in advance, or farmed it out; I was so frightened of its falling on Miranda; and I have engaged a bright new worker to come three days weekly, Miss Covington now having been transferred to the new cottages at Westminster, and to help on the South side of river.
It is very important that you should have a good holiday some time, and I know well how difficult it is to arrange holidays.
... I am far too deeply impressed with what we owe to volunteers, far too anxious not to spoil the joy they have in going, even to lay any claim to their time. What they give I want them to give with full and willing hearts; and it is only they therefore who can decide what it shall be.... It is for each who knows the facts to decide whether she wishes to stay and share the work during the time when the strain is greatest.
I am extremely glad your courts have been going well.
My mother has handed on to me your interesting letter of May 29th, that I may answer the part relating to the Munich schemes. I am delighted to hear of the prospect of extension of such work. Those only who know Munich, its working people, customs, and laws, would know how far our plans would suit; and how far, and in what way, they ought to be modified. But I quite feel with you that some knowledge of them might be most useful to anyone in starting similar work, if only to show a way of proceeding, which would suggest alterations to suit Munich. If anyone came to London with the idea of such preparation, I would gladly show and tell them all I could, but it would have to be some definite time, when I saw my way to give them an opening for real work; and I am afraid that I should have to ask that whoever came should devote a minimum of three months to steady work. Nothing could be learnt under that time, and it is a great upsetting of work to arrange it for less.
My little book, “Homes of the London Poor,” was translated by the late Princess Alice, but I am not sure where it was published. The “Octavia Hill” Verein of Berlin might know.
I suppose you do not happen to know any gentleman likely to do for, and accept, our National Trust secretaryship? I fear we want a great deal, and give next to nothing. Of course, it might grow, but then it might not. The work would be delightful to one who cared for it: all the good results of the Commons and Footpaths work, with little or no fighting. On the contrary, calling on the generous and good people. But then we want interest in the cause, and accurate habits of business.... Our want comes about in this way: Our Com. Pres. Sec. has resigned, and we have been able to promote to his post our young secretary,[125] who has done such splendid work for our Kent and Surrey Footpath Committee and the National Trust, giving half his time to each. Now he will give all his time to commons, and gather under him our vigorous young committees with a real friendly relation and good grasp.... I wonder if you saw my letter about Tintagel in the papers. Last week we needed £84 to save that headland; to-day we need only £23, so I almost see it ours. Is it not delightful? I must set to work now about Alfreston,[126] a much more difficult problem, and hampered by mistakes and delays before we touched the matter. Still, into a safe state it must be got.
I am most anxious to do all I can to help Miss Maas in learning what she can of work. She has made great sacrifices in coming to England to learn, and I fear it is not easy for her to do so. She is thoroughly in earnest, and it is just in order to help real learners like her, who steadily settle down to some months’ training, that I feel it is important not to take round those who can only devote a day or two to the thing.
Octavia’s work grows and grows, and according to its wont flourishes. Her heart is chiefly interested just now in saving beautiful spots in England, securing them in their beauty for future generations. But more and more and more houses come into her care. For the next six weeks every Wednesday will be devoted to taking tenants into the country. One of the excursions is by steamer to Southend, and will number 500 persons.
We crossed the plain of the Piave, and then entered the series of wild gorges which took us up and up by the river, till we reached Pieve di Cadore, Titian’s birthplace. There we slept in a large old Italian inn. We visited the little cottage where he was born. It made one feel what great things come from the outwardly small. Such a tiny kitchen, with wood fire made on a great stone in the centre, over which a great canopy came down to receive and conduct the smoke. Such quaint old stairs, and such a tiny bedroom, with garret over it. A great bronze statue of him dominates the tiny piazza, and faces the small but beautiful municipio.
Sir R. Hunter is very anxious to procure the latest reports of the Open Spaces movement in the U.S.A. Both that of Boston Met. Park Commission and also the Trustees of State Reservations. Could you be so very kind as to get them and send them either to him or to me? I should be so grateful, and I know they would be well used.
I am just starting for the Hall, where Sir J. Causton’s singers will perform. It is just the sort of dreary day on which I think the fire, and light, and flowers will be appreciated by Southwark people. We are greatly enjoying Bryce’s book, and grateful to you for telling us of it....
I have just come back from the Hall. We had those nice working people from Sir J. Causton’s; such a sweet earnest little girl of nine played the violin! Her father, one of the overseers, is so very proud of her. The dear little thing looked delicate.
... I am going over to-morrow to Toys Hill, to talk over many things with Miss Sewell. I want to get a general idea of what to aim at about the various pieces of land, which cottages to keep, which to replace, which part to open to the public. Some of the cottages are greatly overcrowded, and with that I must deal. I have also now definitely to settle about the well,[127] and order it. So far as I see, it will be best to throw open the little terrace adjoining the road which commands the farthest view, and which has some oak trees on it. Here, too, will be our well, and, I hope, a seat. The slope from it is so steep that we shall need a little cris-cross wooden fence as a slight protection. It will then be rather like the places one sees abroad—projecting terraces to see a view. Then, also, I think the whole steep bank might be well left open, and the earth that is excavated may be put at the roots of the trees. Two of the cottages I hope may be made both better and prettier. There is some flat ground below, where, perhaps, we may build two. At this moment cottages are so much needed, and the hill is still open; I think using this land might be best. On my own land I want, this autumn at least, to plant.
Octavia’s visit to Alnwick was a remarkably pleasant one. She was much interested in the family, in the castle, in the scenery to which, and through which they drove—and in the object of her visit—the improvement of the sanitary state of the town. It was the first town which adopted the measures recommended by the General Board of Health when my father was on the Board; so we have memories there. He stayed in Alnwick in 1855 to superintend the sanitary improvements.
... Miss E. took us yesterday to the museum where the various statues, inscriptions, and urns have been placed; and it was wonderfully living and interesting to hear, in so living a way, what all the things were. It is marvellous to realise how the books explain the sculptures, and the sculptures illustrate the books.... We drove to Hadrian’s villa. It was lovely sunlight, I never saw such cypresses; they and the olive trees looked most beautiful among the stately ruins. Miss E. described Hadrian’s life and surroundings in the most living way.... We drove to an old convent purchased by a Mr. S. It stands on the edge of the gorge of the Arno, and just opposite the waterfall, and his grounds go down to the river. One enters a long old corridor, and the cells, from the bedrooms; the prior’s rooms are the principal rooms; one looks out on one side to the gorge and fall, on the other to the convent garden, great lemon trees covered with fruit, doves, trellis for vines, a cell where a hermit has lived since the 4th century. Nothing spoiled, only lived in by a noble sweet and sympathetic English family. On a floor below the entrance is the refectory which is their dining-room; the monks’ seats all round were set with lemons in tubs. Below this, but all opening out on level terraces on the steep declivity, Mr. S. has excavated a grand room with a Roman pavement.
I am in receipt of the circular letter about the proposed memorial to Mr. Ruskin in Westminster Abbey. I am sorry not to see my way to unite with his friends in a scheme which is meant to do honour to one to whom England owes so much, and from whom I myself received teaching and help, which have greatly influenced my life and work. But Ruskin needs no memorial. His influence is deeply impressed on thousands; his memorial consists in his books, his life, his work.
What it seems to me that we, who knew him, should do, in memory of him, is to carry out more earnestly what he taught us that was good. If, in memory of him, a building were to be preserved in its ancient beauty, or a mountain top, or lake, or river side were to be kept in its loveliness for all to enjoy, I should gladly hail the scheme and care to see the place saved, not so much as a memorial to him—he needs none—as a fulfilment of a hope of his.
The erection in the Abbey appears to me to be at least a questionable good. It is one which he himself might have felt as jarring with the surroundings. He cared so much for untouched buildings handed down to us. I could not join in a scheme for touching them.
I like to picture what a meeting it may be of those two in the great beyond, where we dare to hope for so much, and to look to meet those we love; we, as they, purified and grown, and strengthened. Such thoughts, dear, and not of the grave and death, be yours and Una’s, tho’ one knows how deep the pain is, and must be.
Do you not believe your Father and Mother see and know? I do, only we can’t hear them speak.
... You have so much good work of your own on hand that we must be careful not to plan anything which would be a burden, or overtax your strength. To work with full power, to work where one is well known, and where one’s character tells, is important.
I did wish I had known how beautiful all would be at Red Cross yesterday, and had suggested your coming. It was really exquisite in spirit and in form. Dear Miss Ironside was there, the inspiring spirit of such a group of helpers, and trembling with anxious desire for me to see all, and to thank the helpers. There were thirty children from each of twelve schools, and one group besides, who this year performed the ribbon dance, led the singing, etc. Teachers both men and women from all the schools were there leading and caring for the children....
The Kyrle flags made a great effect. The garden itself looked lovely; trees and creepers are growing, and the Good Shepherd gleamed out among them, as if watching over the glad crowd of happy children, who marched and danced and played in bright young unconsciousness. They had almost unlimited pipes for blowing soap bubbles, and a long line of children along the balcony sent bubbles innumerable floating into the sun-lighted air. The cottages have lately been painted and looked so pretty. Every window in them, as well as in the blocks of Mowbray and Stanhope, was crowded with onlookers, as was the line of railing separating the garden from Red Cross Street. On the platform in the Hall, tea was served for the teachers and helpers, who went in in detachments. Of course the band made a great feature. At the end it was really most impressive to stand on the balcony and see the great group of children fall into line and march singing to the accompaniment of the band, three times round the garden, making lovely curves over the bridge and by the band stand, the sunlight streaming on them, till they filed into the Hall, where each received a bunch of flowers and a bun, and so home.
But by far the largest increase of our work has been in consequence of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners asking us to take charge of some of their property, of which the leases fell in, in Southwark and Lambeth.
In Southwark the area had been leased long ago on the old-fashioned tenure of “lives.” That is, it was held, not for a specified term of years, but subject to the life of certain persons. The lease fell in therefore quite suddenly, and fifty of the houses, which were occupied by working people, were placed under my care. I had only four days’ notice before I had to begin collecting. It was well for us that my fellow-workers rose to the occasion, and at once undertook the added duties; well, too, that we were just then pretty strong in workers. It was a curious Monday’s work. The houses having been let and sublet I could be furnished with few particulars. I had a map, and the numbers of the houses, which were scattered in various streets over the five acres which had reverted to the Commissioners; but I had no tenant’s name, nor the rental of any tenement, nor did the tenants know or recognise the written authority, having long paid to other landlords. I subdivided the area geographically between my two principal South London workers, and I went to every house accompanied by one or other of them. I learnt the name of the tenant, explained the circumstances, saw their books and learnt their rental, and finally succeeded in obtaining every rent. Many of the houses required much attention, and since then we have been busily employed in supervising necessary repairs. The late lessees were liable for dilapidations, and I felt once more how valuable to us it was to represent owners like the Commissioners, for all this legal and surveying work was done ably by responsible and qualified men of business, while we were free to go in and out among the tenants, watch details, report grievous defects, decide what repairs essential to health should be done instantly. We have not half done all this, but we are steadily progressing.
The very same day the Commissioners sent to me about this sudden accession of work in Southwark, they asked me whether I could also take over 160 houses in Lambeth. I had known that this lease was falling in to them, and I knew that they proposed rebuilding for working people on some seven acres there, and would consult me about this. But I had no idea that they meant to ask me to take charge of the old cottages pending the rebuilding. However, we were able to undertake this, and it will be a very great advantage to us to get to know the tenants, the locality, the workers in the neighbourhood, before the great decisions about rebuilding are made. In this case I had the advantage of going round with the late lessee, who gave me names, rentals and particulars, and whose relations with his late tenants struck me as very satisfactory and human. On this area our main duties have been to induce tenants to pay who knew that their houses were coming down; (in this we have succeeded), to decide those difficult questions of what to repair in houses soon to be destroyed, to empty one portion of the area where cottages are first to be built, providing accommodation as far as possible for tenants, and to arrange the somewhat complicated minute details as to rates and taxes payable for cottages partly empty, or temporarily empty, on assessments which had all to be ascertained, and where certain rates in certain houses for certain times only were payable by the owners, whom we represent.