“and that which should accompany old age, as honour, love, obedience, troops of friends.”
when we think of the vivid impressions of men and things that we might have had from one who enjoyed such varied experience, we cannot but regret that the press and hurry of her life made a diary an impossibility for miss buss.
in the early years of her work she succeeded in filling some small volumes, but when they were sought after her death, nothing remained but a few pages with notes of the childhood of her nephews and nieces.
from the fairly continuous record in her journal-letters from 1870–79, and from miss fawcett’s diary during her residence at myra (1868–88), as well as from the letters to the rev. francis f. buss (1884–88), sufficient indications may be gathered to show us what we have lost. from miss fawcett we get glimpses of the variety and breadth of interests shared by miss buss with the inmates of her house. lectures on every topic from the best lecturers, concerts, soirées, dances, charades and tableaux vivants, excursions and picnics to interesting places, interviews with celebrated persons, all go to make the reader imagine what the interest of a full record might have been. life certainly must 337have been very far from dull in those days, however full of work it may have been. and this was still more true of the last ten years, to which we have so little clue, when she went out even more among the leaders of the educational movement.
here are a few notes that we should like expanded—
“miss buss went to lunch at the deanery, and afterwards had a quiet drive with lady augusta stanley.”
“on jubilee day miss buss was invited to the abbey by dean bradley, and was seated next to professor max müller. at night she told us all about the ceremony. she had been intensely interested in the greetings between the queen and the royal family, an emotional scene that went to her heart.”
“miss buss had an interview with the crown princess (the empress frederick), and talked of education.”
“miss buss has been to the prize-giving at the richmond school. she had a chat with the princess mary of teck.”
on another of these occasions she was photographed, sitting beside the duchess of albany.
mrs. hill notes a characteristic point—
“she was never satisfied to enjoy anything by herself, and living at myra, as i did, i have been with her at different times to all kinds of things, the indian soirées, the bishop of london’s garden-parties, the royal society’s ladies’ evenings, and big soirées at west end houses in the season. in the same spirit, if she had bouquets on prize day, etc., she would send them in old days to mrs. laing, and, later on, to people who would care to have them. if she had a carriage to make calls, she would take some one for the drive.”
then from her letters to her nephew at cambridge—
“april 16, 1884.
“on friday i lunched at st. mark’s vicarage, surbiton, with archdeacon burney, lineal descendant of the famous musical dr. burney, friend of johnson, burke, garrick, etc., and father of frances, author of ‘evelina,’ and ‘diary of madame d’arblay,’ 338the fashionable authoress of the day, on whom macaulay afterwards conferred immortality in his essay. do you know her diary? it is so minute that as one reads it one is transported into another age, and moves among the great men and women of the 18th century. i can never forget the delight with which i read it, in my twentieth year, just as it was published.
“archdeacon burney’s walls are covered with family portraits, heirlooms, sir joshua’s well-known dr. burney, and garrick; gainsborough’s portrait of paul sanday and his lady-love; of dr. johnson, from the thrale collection; of madame d’arblay (fanny burney), and the next generation of burneys by romney and laurence.
“and there are some lovely turners, and also a fine collection of autographs.... the visit was very interesting.... and then there is an invalid daughter, with a most lovely face and spiritual expression. she can only be moved from her couch to bed and back, and yet is full of brightness and good works.
“there has been a discussion lately as to the author of the lines ‘to love her was a liberal education,’ either by steele or congreve. well, to see the invalid miss burney is a christian education! how wonderful it is! our heavenly father seems to lift some weak ones of earth into a supernatural strength that makes them more powerful from their sick couch than the strong and healthy.”
“feb. 21, 1885.
“i was in cambridge yesterday ... it is not nearly so dear to me as when i had a beloved boy there! but still it is always delightful. girton has been very gay—a ball, some theatricals (the ‘ladies’ battle’), and last night the inter-collegiate debate on hero-worship; seventy newnham girls were going to girton, to lead in favour. girton was to oppose by pointing out how it injured worshipped and worshipper.
“i spent the morning at newnham, called at king’s, to see mr. c. ashbee’s new rooms; lunched at girton, and had afternoon tea there, and went to ‘potts,’ to see willie b. he asked o. ashbee to meet me.”
“feb. 15, 1885.
“on friday i went to a meeting at the mansion house about the parkes museum, and then to the vicarage. mother, who was expecting prof. stuart, m.p., made me stay and dine with them. he is very bright, and i liked him. besides, he is a cambridge 339man, and that is a passport to me. he told us some stories of exam. mistakes, etc.”
“feb., 1885.
“i have been out twice this week, once to mrs. dacre craven’s (née florence lees), wife of the rector of st. george’s, bloomsbury. there were many interesting things to be seen, among others a series of photographs of mecca, also of medina. they must have been done by a mahommedan, as it is death to a christian to enter these sacred places.
“another evening i went to the countess d’avigdor’s. she is a most beautiful old lady. the ladies were flashing with diamonds, and there was some splendid music. but most of the men were conservative, and were abusing gladstone in a most shameful way.
“did i tell you i met mr. guthrie (vice versa guthrie)? he is very simple and unaffected. i saw him at mrs. ashbee’s. sir spencer wells was also there, the famous doctor.”
“june 6, 1886.
“i go to oxford on friday, to stay till tuesday, and a most splendid programme of university sights, luncheons, dinners, meetings, etc., is arranged for sunday, monday, and tuesday. i am to be the guest of mr. thomas and his sister; i think he is a master of queen’s, but am not sure of the college. friday and saturday i must give to the head-mistresses’ meetings, but i shall see a good deal of oxford life. it will be grand to be in oxford on whit-sunday.”
“june 29, 1890.
“every day this week is full of engagements, and i find it difficult to escape them. i like to accept some. i should much have liked to go to mrs. gladstone’s garden-party, and also to the duke of westminster’s garden-party (i was asked as a subscriber to the church house), but i could not manage either, in consequence of previous plans—rugby, for instance.
“for the first time, yesterday, i went to the rugby speech day, at the invitation of dr. percival, the head-master. ‘tom brown’ was there, and when dr. percival announced him the cheers were deafening. mr. hughes has aged since i last saw him. he has made rugby known to every civilized country, as well as live for ever in the memory of rugbeians.
“our own prize day was quite the best we have had for several years. the bishop of rochester made an excellent speech, in 340perfect taste, and lady elizabeth biddulph, daughter to our early friend, the late countess of hardwicke, also delivered a good speech, which was liked by parents and girls. she is a thorough-going temperance speaker, accustomed to large audiences.”
cheltenham was another very attractive social centre. there she met mrs. frances owen, whose exquisite lecture on wordsworth, given at the north london collegiate school, introduced her to the circle there. mr. and mrs. middleton and their son were dear friends of the same period, and miss buss delighted in telling the stories of mr. middleton’s wonderful cat; especially that of waking its master at early dawn one morning that it might display five rats, laid in a row at the door; or the still more strange story of its taking mr. middleton into the library, after a fortnight’s absence, and there telling him a long tale, which the maid explained by saying that the cat, shut up in this room, had met in fierce combat and slain another of the enemy.
in mr. henry middleton miss buss found artistic sympathy, and also gave it, for her drawing-room was one of the first decorated by mr. middleton in the new fashion which superseded the old white and gold of the first half of the century. i remember being taken by miss buss to see mrs. middleton, “that saintly woman,” as her friends called her, and bringing away a memory of peace and joy. she had come to try london advice for the complaint which proved fatal. and mrs. owen did not long survive her.
but cheltenham, first and last, meant miss beale. it is a joy to think of the meetings—happily frequent—between these two kindred workers, who could give each other so rare a sympathy. the north london collegiate and camden schools and the cheltenham ladies’ college are two great creations, original works of genius; and when we think of the continuous stream, 341scarcely less than a thousand persons, pupils and teachers, always passing through both places, we find a power and influence simply incalculable. the meeting between the two heads suggests a tête-à-tête between two queens, who for a brief bright respite may escape from the loneliness of royalty.[20]
20. as an instance of the “true word spoken in jest,” we find this separateness of the two leaders emphasized, at a very early period of their career, in the often-quoted nonsense-rhyme, at which they laughed with the rest—
“miss buss and miss beale
cupid’s darts do not feel;
they are not like us,
miss beale and miss buss!”
the authorship of this quatrain is uncertain, being attributed either to a master of clifton, or to a boy of cheltenham college. it is quite certain that they were not written by one of miss buss’ pupils, nor were they ever (as reported) found on the blackboard of any class-room in the north london collegiate school for girls.
miss beale was some years the younger, and in fullest vigour when her friend was feeling the stress and strain of work. but miss buss took the deepest interest in all the later developments at cheltenham, and could rejoice in seeing at last the full realization of her own early dream, in an institution where a child may now enter the kindergarten at the age of three—there is a lovely school full of these happy mites—and, after going through all the course, may finally leave the training school as b.a. or b.sc., fully competent to teach what she has so thoroughly learned.
it was wonderful how many different interests were packed into that full life. besides all her private visiting, and educational and philanthropic meetings, there were the meetings of literary societies. she often went to those of the royal institution, and of the royal geographical, taking her girls. she belonged to the wordsworth society, and i remember her keen delight 342in an address by james russell lowell, in the library at lambeth palace, and again the satisfaction in the beautiful simplicity with which mr. lowell, in an address to the browning society, took the christian side in the discussions which were a marked feature of that society. even for the society of psychical research she could keep an open mind, though in general she did not care for things abstract or vague. for fun she was always ready, and i well remember how we enjoyed mark twain’s subtle nonsense, in his lecture on “our fellow-savages of the sandwich islands.”
she had by nature and early association a great love of the drama, and indulged occasionally in a visit to the theatre, especially enjoying a french play, as she says—
“i am taking an evening sometimes, however, to get a french lesson at the comèdie fran?aise. i saw l’avare last night. it is most perfectly acted.
“i saw bernhardt in andromaque. she is a wonderful actress, with a curious power of impressing herself on the spectator’s mind. andromaque made one very sad; it seemed to point to the poor empress. how thankful i should be to die if i were in her place.”
she had much to say on her return from all such experiences, as well as from dinners and fêtes, when she had met and talked with eminent persons. unhappily, there was no phonograph to take down her talk. it has gone, and with it all the record of times and seasons of public and private import of which she knew.
then we have a peep at the books that interested her—
“broadstairs, aug. 26, 1873.
“frank has been my companion in all my wanderings. i have read to my heart’s content; the laddie always goes to bed early, and so i had always two or three hours at night. i have devoured books on education, siljistrom’s american schools, heppeau’s ditto. so that i have had two studies of american education; the 343one from a swedish point of view, the other from a french. in belgium, my boy and i studied motley’s ‘rise of the dutch republic,’ ‘belfry of bruges,’ etc. although the holidays have been more broken up than i care for—they have been restful and enjoyable.
“on saturday 6th i am to go to gunnersbury, where my uncle henry lives, and then i shall have a few days in the middle of the last week of the holidays. if i can, i want to go to stratford-on-avon on a pilgrimage—by the way, pilgrimages are all the fashion now!—to shakespeare’s country.”
“i have been reading with intense interest the american book on the education of girls—the answer, by an american woman, to the book by dr. clark which formed the text for dr. maudsley’s article in the fortnightly for april against the higher education of women! the american women make out a strong case for themselves....
“if you have not read ‘sister dora’ let me lend it to you. she is an encouragement and a warning! she was very self-willed, and that is different from being strong-willed. she was the latter, too.”
(to her nephew, january 8, 1892.) “i am going to send you two comic books—‘my wife’s politics’ and ‘samantha among the brethren’—both books bearing on the woman-question—the question of the end of the nineteenth century. you will perhaps live to see the effects of the emancipation of women. their higher and fuller development, their greater knowledge, and therefore greater sympathy, will bring them nearer to men of the best kind. for the other kind of men—as mrs. poyser says, ‘there will always be fools enough to match the men!’ i should like to revisit our planet at the end of the twentieth century, to see the effect on society of the great revolution of the nineteenth—the woman’s rights question.”
in early days, miss buss used at easter to take a large house by the sea, and fill it with her family—the nephews and nieces bringing young friends—or with pupils or members of the staff. later, her country house at epping was open in this way for short holidays, and of these mrs. hill says—
344“it was delightful to be with miss buss at epping. she generally had something interesting to read to us in the evening. she never minded what we did, and looked indulgently on all kinds of pranks.
“she remembered one’s likes and dislikes in the way of food. one of the last times i had tea with her (in october, 1874) she had some special cakes which she knew i liked, and when mr. hill and i were staying with her at overstrand, if we expressed a liking for anything, she said to her companion, ‘why do you not get it for them?’
“this minute thoughtfulness is a matter of constant comment. miss edwards tells of a visit from an old pupil who brought her daughter to myra, and at tea-time miss buss asked, ‘does your little girl like sugar as much as you did, my dear?’”
during her nephews’ college career she several times took a house at cambridge, always arranging something in which her girl-undergraduates could join. of one of her dances there is an account from her friend mrs. mathieson—
“in january, 1886, miss buss called and asked me to join her in giving a dance at cambridge. her two nephews were there, and mr. w. buck. my son was also there, and my daughter at girton. i think we had about twenty from girton, and the same number from newnham, and miss hughes brought about twelve from the training college. miss buss and i each took down a party, and there were plenty of men from the various colleges.
“i well remember the interest taken by miss buss in the arrangements, and her distress because girton and newnham would not extend the time for their students, who were obliged to leave us at 10.30, which, of course, broke up our party, since we were left with fifty men to ten girls, as miss hughes took hers away when the other colleges went.”
there is a little note from miss buss in reference to this party, in which she says—
“i find i have made a mistake in the date; february 25 is in lent. in any case, the dance cannot be managed before easter.
“have you seen punch? there is a small young lady who, when accused by her mother of being ‘stupid,’ says, ‘no, i am only inattentive!’ let me hope my mistake was like the child’s!”
345mrs. hill, who knew the cambridge life well, says of it—
“she seemed most in her element, so to say, when she was at cambridge. i went with her ten or twelve times, and she was always most anxious that her young people should have the best time possible. if necessary, she would herself chaperon us to breakfast, lunch, tea, coffee, in the undergraduate’s rooms, and (what added to the pleasure) she enjoyed going. twice she gave a dance, when she made a delightful hostess.”
it is also in reference to this phase of her life that mrs. bryant gives this pretty picture of miss buss—
“her sympathy with young people was by no means limited to the serious side of things, or to her own remembered experiences. her imagination, with the tender, happiness-loving heart behind, held her in touch with all the innocent gaieties, and even vanities of youth. many will remember her pleasant parties at cambridge, including some dances, and the delightful way in which she acted the part of motherly chaperon, never tired, never in a hurry to get to the end, never distressed by those modifications in the order and punctuality of meals which youth regards as a normal part of merry-making. respecting the vanities, i remember telling her on one occasion that my niece was going to her first ‘grown-up’ dance. ‘there are such pretty shoes nowadays for girls,’ she said, ‘i hope you have got her something very pretty. a girl’s first dance comes only once.’”
miss newman tells a similar tale of a time when, as they were together at matlock, miss buss asked her to help choose some amber for a birthday present, asking her opinion and advice. miss newman had no idea that miss buss knew that the next day was her birthday; but when the birthday came she found the amber on her table, with a card of good wishes.
mrs. bryant says also that—
“when boys were in question, her sympathy was even more delightful. in her family experience, boys had predominated, though she had always been a girl-like girl, not given to participation 346in boys’ games. her tolerance for boys, their muddy boots and disturbing household ways, was quite unlimited, though doubtless, and probably for that very reason, no boy of her circle would have thought of disobeying her. i have spent more than one happy holiday with her and her nephews in the country, and know how to appreciate her rare sympathy with our more athletic ideas of pleasure, and the ease with which her plans would fall in with ours. once i was with her in killarney, and wanted to climb carn-tual. ‘i want to go for a climb to-morrow,’ she said. ‘it will suit me excellently to drive to the foot of your mountain, and there will be plenty to amuse me while you go up.’”
her intensity of vital power kept her in touch with all young life. the strong love of little children, which was one of her most marked characteristics, was only the lovely blossoming of this vigorous growth; nothing refreshed her more, when she was tired of work, or worn with worries, than to have a “baby-show” of her nephews and nieces in their day, and then of their children and the children of old pupils. she liked just a few at a time, so that she might thoroughly enjoy them, when she would herself get out toys from her stores, watching the play while she and the mothers told stories of child wit and wisdom. one of her very latest pleasures in life was the visit of a little new namesake—a tiny “frances mary,” who will rejoice in the name though she can have no memory of the kind face that brightened at the sight of her baby ways—and one of her last quite coherent remarks was an inquiry for “little curly-head,” as she called her nephew’s little son.
here is a characteristic little story told by mrs. pierson—
“at the house of an old friend the other day i met a young married lady with her baby. we were talking of miss buss, and she said, ‘i only saw her once, when i was five years old, but i have never forgotten her. she saved me from a cruel nurse who 347ran away from me, and hid in the coal-yards near chalk farm station, while i cried because i was lost. a lady came by and took my hand and comforted me and asked me where i lived. “near some mountains—red mountains,” i said, and her quick perception divined that i meant some new houses being built near primrose hill. she took me in the direction of oppidan’s road, where i soon recognized my home; and, after her interview with my mother, i need not say the nurse had to leave.’”
it is delightful to read miss buss’ holiday letters about the children, who were often with their aunt while their parents went for rest and change. while the world was standing in awe of the “eminent educationalist” she was inditing sweet letters full of babytalk, of wise counsel hid in nonsense, or of the affection of which her heart was so full—
“1865.
“my dear little mother,
“oh! what a boy is ours! to talk about ‘jolly’! naughty little monkey! we want a three-year old, not a grown-up boy. kiss him thousands of times for his loving arnie, whose heart goes out to him twenty times a day at least. she pictures to herself, over and over again, the sweet little shy face on the pier, and her boy waiting to throw himself into her arms when she lands.
“i went last night to see léonie, more especially to get a kiss of nina.”
“stockholm, august 30, 1871.
“my dear little mother,
“you do not deserve, by the way, to be the mother of sons! you want sweet little goody children—girls—who will sit still, and be made fine, always do what they are told (in public!), never make a noise, and be clever, well-informed children, who will answer any question (provided it be given in the form printed in their books), write beautifully, and spell splendidly! thank goodness! ‘my’ child is not one of those dear darling little humbugs. why, i am quite proud of his writing, and his spelling wants time, of course. how many of miss f.’s class spell better than he? none, of course. nor do nina and may-may spell better. their 348french bothers them. frank is a sensible, well-informed lad for his age, and, above all, he has a desire for knowledge. education is not reading and writing, but means a desire to acquire information. as for arthur, he is a darling; kiss him for his arnie.”
“1864.
“my dear darling ba-lamb (lioness rather) sister, i hunger and thirst after you and our boy to a painful degree. it is very distressing, but as i grow older i find my heart-strings are really pulled violently by a select few. it is quite painful to have a heart and feel its existence.
“god bless you all, prays your loving sister
“fanny.”
