L CHAPTER VII PEMBROKE LODGE LATER IFE at Pembroke Lodge was naturally somewhat changed by my grandfather's death, chiefly financially. Lady Holland had given him £2,000 a year, but generously, as one biographer says, he refused this offer for more than his life. I should have preferred his generosity to have refused it for life and taken it for his successor. My guardians drew £600 a year on my account, and spent about £400 on me, and they may have drawn something for Bertie. Anyhow, the establishment was reduced : McAlpin disappeared, the fat French cook disappeared, Mrs. Cox, I think, did not last long, and the Servants' Hall was shut up and used by my uncle Rollo as a laboratory, and I was removed to the big nursery over this room. There remained John, the only indoor man-servant, and one gardener, and one man in the stables. The Queen graciously continued the use of the house to my grandmother, as on her death she did to my Aunt Agatha. The Fridays and Sundays, however, continued there until my grandmother's death, and by this time I found it less trying to be clean and tidily dressed, and began to take an increasing interest in the afternoon callers. On these days At Home an astonishing number of old friends used to come down from London to pay their respects and talk over past events. There were among their friends a man called Buller with one eye, and a man called Bickersteth, and Richard Dana the third, a grandson of "Before the Mast." It was the older ones that interested me, however. Louisa Abercorn as they always called the Duchess was a frequent visitor, and used often to stay. Lord and Lady Selborne came quite frequently, getting more and more like each other in old age. One famous occasion I remember when Mr. Gladstone came, but I alas saw little of him. Sir Algernon West for so long his right-hand man, was one of our most constant visitors, and always full of charming old world courtliness. W. H. Lecky, who had been a great friend of my mother, also came occasionally. I remember Sir Charles Dilke came once to stay, and though he was very entertaining we none of us liked him. Sir William Harcourt came seldom, but his sister who lived in Richmond often called. Then there were the relations who used to come and stay occasionally, my grandmother's witty and amusing sister, and my great-aunt, Lady Charlotte Portal, whose husband made the bank-note paper for the Bank of England, and her charming daughter Ethel: my two halfaunts, Lady Victoria Villiers, whose husband Montagu Villiers, was afterwards well known as the vicar of St. Paul's, Knightsbridge, and Lady Georgiana Peel, who now lives at Hampton Court Palace, and from whose Reminiscences I have already quoted. Bessie Melville, Addie Drummond, Arabella Seymour, my great-uncle, George Elliot, my distant cousin, G. W. E. Russell, and a host of others. It must have been in the autumn of this year that we all went to St. Fillans, at that time a charming and quiet little village situated on Loch Earn, and only to be approached from Crieff. Here we passed a pleasant and peaceful autumn; Bertie, I think, was there with his governess-I had drawing lessons and it was here that I achieved the masterpiece of the gate. The Loch was charming, and very attractive to me as any water always is, but my principal interest was a scientific one. Only two years before my uncle Rollo had begun giving me a course of instruction in electricity of the frictional variety based on Tyndall's lectures. We played with an electrophorus exciting a glass rod by rubbing it with silk, and charging a fox's brush, detecting the charges by means of an electrometer. We advanced to a plate-glass frictional machine of an old type which gave a real spark, and to Leyden jars. At the end of the course I went on with voltaic electricity, in which my uncle was not well up, and experimented with Daniell cells, and the comparatively new Leclanché battery, and crude galvanometers. At the beginning of this year, 1878, I was determined to possess a new book called Preece and Sivewright's "Practical Telegraphy," the cost of which was three shillings and sixpence. I had saved eighteenpence towards it, I had got one shilling's worth of stamps, and a kind master at the school gave me the extra shilling. I devoured the work ardently, and not long after my grandmother Stanley presented me with two fascinating single needle instruments of a toy kind with which I experimented vigorously. By the time we found ourselves at St. Fillans, in September, I could transmit at fifteen words a minute and could read at about ten, and was, of course, fully conversant with the Morse alphabet. I became friendly with the girl at the post office, a little local office, and the opportunity soon arose to put my knowledge in practice. The girl's instrument had gone wrong, and I soon discovered that all that was the matter was a loose connexion, which I remedied. Her gratitude and my knowledgeableness led to my being allowed to play with the real instrument. St. Fillans was one of five stations connected together with single needle instruments, Crieff, Comrie, St. Fillans, Lochearnhead, and Killin. I very soon established by wire friendly relations with the girl at Crieff, and had long conversations, in fact when I left I took the opportunity of paying her a visit and introducing myself in the flesh. What in particular astonished me was to discover that even in a system of signals which merely consisted in making a needle go to the right or the left, one could distinguish as in writing or speaking each individual sender, so that I always knew on looking at the instrument who was sending. Comrie in particular I recollect, had a very weak and tremulous hand. Perhaps it is difficult for anyone who is not interested in science to realize the elation and triumph of a boy just thirteen, who was allowed to send and receive real messages on a real post office instrument. I don't think I had experienced anything like it since at the age of eight I was left in sole charge of a threshing machine. Later in the year we returned to Pembroke Lodge, and the old regular life was revived under the regime of my grandmother Russell. I feel that some picture of her ought to be attempted. In external appearance she was rather short, dignified, and gracious, with a gentle voice, a lined face, kind and sparkling but rather tired eyes, grey hair drawn back rather tightly from the forehead, spectacles, and a shawl. If in some ways limited and Victorian in her outlook, she was by no means intellectually negligible. In religion she had begun life as a Presbyterian, and although outwardly conforming to the Church of England, she was in no way a slave to it. Indeed she always abominated the Athanasian Creed, and some things roused her sense of humour, particularly that prayer of invocation Almighty God who alone workest great marvels, send down upon our Bishops and Curates the spirit of Thy grace." In later life she conformed less, adopted Moody and Sankey hymns for morning prayer, and ultimately definitely joined the Unitarian Church. The publication of my father's book "The Analysis of Religious 66 Belief" after his death, was an instance of her broadmindedness. The book is an early study of comparative religions leading to the conclusion that they are all man-made, and that the various gods that men have at one time or another worshipped, are their own creations, and have no real existence outside their imaginations. My grandmother, if not tied by form, was at any rate quite definitely theistic and definitely believed in personal immortality, but she felt that it would not be right to deprive the world of a serious work, the result of many years' study, merely because she disagreed with its conclusions, and therefore she published the book after my father's death. To turn to lighter matters, my grandmother had been brought up at a time when elegant accomplishments were part of the equipment of a gentlewoman, and she was therefore able quite easily to turn out a creditable set of verses upon any occasion, or to compose simple music for the piano. I give two compositions, both of which she composed and set to music for my amusement— LITTLE FRANK RUSSELL Little Frank Russell He is in a bustle And what shall poor Granny do do-oo! On her sofa he jumps Her piano he thumps Oh dear what a hulla-ba-loo ! Oh dear what a hulla-ba-loo ! FRANK AND THE COCK-A-DOOLIES Pretty Cock-a-doolies do you see my basket, Pretty Cock-a-doolies if you only ask it I will scatter crumbs enough for all of you. Hurry skurry come along Hurry skurry come along all round me Here is some for Mr. Cock Here is some for Mrs. Hen Here is some for chickabiddies one, two, three. The following verses were composed not about me, but for the purpose of making fun of Bertie, when he was beginning to be a philosopher O science metaphysical, And very very quizzical, You only make this maze of life the mazier; For boasting to illuminate Such riddles dark as Will and Fate You muddle them to hazier and hazier. The cause of every action You expound with satisfaction. Through the mind in all its corners and recesses And every thread unravelled And axioms you call your learned guesses. Right and wrong you've so dissected You know no more than I What is laughter, tear or sigh, Or love, or hate, or anger, or compassion; Metaphysics, then, adieu, Without you I can do And I think you'll very soon be out of fashion. 1897. I also give a set of verses of a more serious character : Low in the dust my spirit lieth; For on the path which year by year I trod The records strewn and graven, oh my God! Fragments of many a purpose high, On treacherous shoals of self for ever wrecked; By weeds of deadly night o'ergrown and checked. Dreams of a life for others spent By fears and cares of earth too soon dispelled; Unsifted words, fair deeds in fetters held. Low in the dust my spirit lieth! Oh Thou alone who canst the contrite raise, 1897. |