In October I went to Oxford - and entered St.
Edmund's Hall - my means not, allowing me to enter a
more ambitious college.
The three years spent at Oxford, were characterized
by desultory reading. Still, I succeeded in obtaining class
iii Classical honour Moderations - and I remember turning
one of the 'Queens' - a passage from Status - into a species(!)
of Blank Verse.
The late Professor Dalbie, one of my Lecturers, once
remarked to me that my English Verses were better than my
Latin ones, - a verdict with which I heartily concurred. Poor
Dalbie! he became Public Orator, - but died early
in life! My intimate friend of Oxford was the Rev. Thomas
Beatham - one of the Senior Masters at Archbishop.Whitgift's
Grammar School - Croydon : - a native of Craven, and.
an old Giggleswick scholar. Him I used to worship for his
frank native and Herculean limbs - a Contrast to me in
point of bone and muscle! But I must not decry my physical
abilities, - having rowed 'bow' in my College - (in 'Hall')
light and being Pronounced 'sound' by the 'Faculty'. Moreover
though launched on my Jubilee decade voyage, I am as lithe
of limb, and light of step, as I was 20 years ago! I am 5
feet 10.5 inches in my Stockings: As to 'lung power', I have
made myself heard in a church holding 1000 people! - and my
recouperative ability is really wonderful. But a truce to
further detail!
My father did not (or would not?) understand the excigencies
(monetarily speaking) of University life so after reading
Theology and Modern History and successively flinging them
aside,I left Oxford in disgust - rebellious,- and yet anxious
to make my own living! But, meanwhile I went to Craven .for
the long vacation and there, as had often and often been my
wont, I would. spend whole days away up in the moorland angling
for the Otter trout, and enjoying with it the stream,and the
woods and cascades of my native Dales in 'land of the Otter'-
as it has been recently stiled by 'Rambler' in the 'Craven
Herald'! It was no uncommon thing for me to be out all day
by my beloved 'burn' angling for the pretty fish - and my
98th Juvenile poem bears the title of 'The Anglers life' -
and has been called 'the smoothest of all my meters -natural
and easy'! This effusion is meditative and was written in
1877 - the year that found Me 'rushing into printer's ink',
for the second time. No longer toying with skittish lives
about Oxford Scouts (?) and exams:- I feel me roused by the
heroism of Osman Packa of Pleona fame:- and wrote a Sonnet
- not to my 'Mistresses's eyebrow' this time, but to the redoubtable
hero who 'held the fort against fearful odds'! I sent it to
the 'Herald' (Craven) - the Conservative, or rather, paper,
for the district, and it was accepted! It is the 101st of
the Juvenile Series - whereof, maybe, just a few are worthy
of publication -'the rest Nowhere', as the race card has it!
This sonnett I dedicated to Mrs. L. Ryme Saudell -a versifyer
of some pretention, who lived in the Lancashire fringe of
Craven, and to whom I was introduced, and with whom I corresponded
for a. time on matters of poesy:
According to my marginal date I have gone back on my record.
Let me review.
1878 was prolific of 'poems' 'good, bad, and indifferent',
- the autumn of that year finding me in Hampstead Heath as
Assistant Tutor at a Private (Boarding) School Conducted by
The Misses Smallwood.
Here I stayed up till the end of the year, as my 'Ladies Superior'
resigned and I had to go. It was a short, but happy time -
the beauties of Hampstead, especially in the 'yellowing' time,
fascinating and inspiring me so that my 'juvenile' now numbered
158!
1879 found me at Brighton - I was now fairly settled to journalistic
writing,- my principal work being for the'Craven Herald',
this being my 20th year of contribution.
For the next three years I was Senior Tutor at Mr. Cocking's
School. Mr. Cocking was incumbent of the famous E.W. Robertson's
church, and he himself— was an eloquent preacher, and
indeed, he often stirred his congregation to a wonderous pitch
of ecstacy by his Irish fluency.
It was there I met on the Sea. Shore (!) my future wife —
the two of us complete strangers to each other up to that
moment. She also was teaching, and in London her father and
mother 'kept a school'. So what more natural — what
more appropriate than to dream by the 'sad sea waves' that
'we two' might 'keep school' together! And so it came to pass
in due course, and on Jan. 3rd 1882 we were married: The courtship,
with all its difficulties, had about it not a little of the
romantic, and truly, as we look back now it was that 'nothing
half so sweet in life as love's yearning dream'!
'We two' were now face to face with the stern realities of
life — the life of a 'Private Schoolmaster,' and it
is not a'bed of roses', and, if I were to write a novel and
call. it 'The Private Schoolmaster' (as I have been asked
to do) I could certainly make it thrill with strange stories
of my pedagogic experiences of life. Into the work of teaching
the young I have always entered with unabated enthusiasm,
and 'Old Boys' are ever glad to come to the speech days and
rally round the flag of the schoolboy days. My wife is herself
a lady of energy and talent ( she is mathematical —
we are striking contrasts! —) and she has battled bravely
with me against the long odds of educational competition.
Her father was a scholar of the Winchester Training College
— (in which city — she was born) and he Mr. F.
Woods, was one of the best Arithmetitians of his day, and
himself devised a new and easier method of Cube Foot. Her
mother, comes of an Oxford family, and she was herself specially
trained for the teaching profession. I therefore may be said
finally to have adopted teaching through the 'hereditary influences'
of Mrs. Gomersall.
A short time before my marriage the rival paper in Craven
published a remarkably
witty and clever lampoon accent one of my amorous ditties
— entitled: 'On the way'! (this was my nom de Plume
up to 1882) — The criticism was very exhaustive, and
it dubbed me a writer of the 'Mystical Sentimental' order.
About the same period also appeared a poetic contribution
in evident allusion to the 'School of Poetry' I was introducing.
The Serious effort however, necessary for the proper and efficient
management of a High—Class Preparatory — and the
advent of family cares and burdens induced me to lay aside
my poetic pen, and I contented. myself with prose production
for nearly 10 years. The first period of Poetry was closed.
— the Second Period —the real one, — did
not begin till 1890! 'What happened in the meantime?
In October, 1882, my eldest child was born. It has always
been a fancy with me to give my children Classical names and
these names each— so muuh the worse for the children,
I hear some say! My first—born is a girl, Irene, Constance,
Sibyl, now a comeley maiden of 15, with classic features,
and a wealth of auburn tresses that fall cascade—like
and give her a very girlish appearance: She is called Sibyl
and I stoutly maintain that this is the only right way to
spell this Greek word, — yes, in spite of Lord Beaconsfield,
and all the notables! In November, 1883, another girl was
born, Madeleine Augusta Heidee, and I saw in fancy Two Sisters
growing up, each others guardian and companion
a pair of turtle doves!
Alas my hopes were blighted. Whooping cough carried off the
child in the night at the age of 4 months — found dead
in bed! I shall never forget the journey to the mortuary.
for I was advised not to have the jury coming round to the
house - being a school! 1882- Then, when the Inquest was over,
I brought her back at dusk, and one wild March day we buried
her with other little ones! I said - my hopes were disappointed,
and I rebelled! I had never yet come much under direct religious
influence, although as a child, I was considered to be meditative
and naturally docile: And when at college, the Vice Principal
thought theology was 'against the grain'! And now I grew careless,
and I was ever a hater of formality and ceremonial! But one
day there came a Presbyterian Minister to my house, and 1890
there was about him something so sweet and Johannine - something
so simple and sincere - and such a sunshine about his presence
and, his words and. voice that the Man - who really believed
what he preached seemed to stand before me with the air of
an Apostle about him! It was the Rev. Duncan Sillars, builder
up of churches, who had lately come to London from Leeds to
revivify the dying lustre of old Oxenden - one of Londons
most famous, and most ancient of places of the Presbyterian
worship. It was all 'Oxenden' however, that moved away from
the old site to follow its people to Hampstead !
Burdened with debt the Rev. 'Duncan Sillars was its deliverer
from debt. Well, this Apostolic brother took me kindly to
task, and he entered my heart through the appeal to my ambition!
Ahl he saw my weakness, and through my weakness he sought
to make me strong in the Faith! He spoke to me of worldly
Honours - waiting to be snatched at the Theological College,
Queens Square - and so I sat down for a year and deliberately
prepared to win one of those three scholarships! In the autumn
of 1885 I went in for the entrance examination and won the
3rd 1882- scholarship the 'Munro'.
The first man was 19 marks ahead. - the second man 1. It was
a tight race! This Scholarship paid for my 'Locum Tenens'*,
and my brave wife battled right gallantly for 3 years whilst
I attended the course. There was an entrance exam each year
and last of all an exit!
[* OED - Deputy acting for clergyman]
The professors were very kind to me and full of forebearence.
There was Dr. Chalmers (the Principal), Dr. Gibb (the resident
professor)- Dr. Graham (church history) - and last, not least,
Professor Elmsall the Hebrew lecturer - my favourite professor,
who awoke within us much enthusiasm! He was a great preacher
also, and my delight was to go and hear him - like a desciple
hanging on the lips of a Master! It was he, too, before whom
I preached my annual, sermons and who decided my fate at the
exit. Dr. Graham too was specially kind to me for I was not
a little desultory et times and he was like a father - I liked
him, too, because he was full of spiritual Rhapsody! Poor
Graham! He died one dull November day and just before he expired
he sent me a post card to send to my fellow students - whereon
were the two great words
Ah! yes, - he knew how much suffering teaches! But a greater
blow was yet to come! In 1889 I finished my course and in
the November of that year Professor Elmsall was swept away
in the prime of his days and the pride of his preaching power!
It was wretched news - I was miserable!
Since 1882 I had written scarce half a dozen poems, and now
I wrote a few stansas
in memory of my dear Professor and for the first time I tried
the Spencerien stansa!
Let me revert for a. moment.
In 1885 my father sold his estate, and in 1888 another was
born Adrienne Carlotta Hebe -
