CHAPTER IV
DANESFIELD—RECEPTION INTO CATHOLIC CHURCH
1867-1869
The conversion of Bute to the Roman Church, as to which his mind was practically made up before the end of 1866, though the actual step was delayed until nearly two years later, was brought about, as we have seen, chiefly by his own reading and reflection, combined with the impression wrought on his mind by foreign travel—not, it is to be noted, mainly in Catholic countries, but in those Eastern lands where he had every opportunity of studying at first hand the various forms of worship and belief in which he was so deeply interested. None of his companions on these extended journeys were Roman Catholics, nor apparently in any degree sympathetic with the spirit in which the young Scottish pilgrim visited those historic spots. A casual note in one of his journals reveals the fact that he defrayed in most cases the entire expenses of his fellow-travellers on these trips; but though he thus secured companionship, there is no evidence that his varied journeyings were carried out in society particularly congenial to him. At Oxford, as has been already said, his only really intimate friends (in a host of acquaintances) were a lady already middle-aged, and two undergraduates, whose loyal affection for him certainly did not include any intelligent sympathy with his religious aspirations. It was not until the Christmas vacation of 1866, when his conversion was to all intents and purposes an accomplished fact, that he became for the first time intimate with a Catholic family, and through them with one who was destined to be the actual instrument of his reception into the Latin Communion. Let us pause for a moment at the turning-point in his life which we have now reached, and look back some eighteen months to the beginning and the development of this new friendship.
1867, Danesfield
Not far from the old town of Marlow, among chalky downs starred in early summer with masses of golden St. John's wort, stood in those days the pretty country seat of Danesfield, the home of Mr. Charles Scott Murray, a Catholic gentleman of Scottish descent and good estate. He had married a daughter of the twelfth Lord Lovat, and had a large family; and both his country home and his house in Cavendish Square were centres of much pleasant hospitality. Lord Bute stayed with him several times at Danesfield, and made there, early in 1867, the acquaintance of the Rev. T. W. (afterwards Monsignor) Capel, who acted as chaplain in the beautiful private chapel (one of Pugin's finest works) attached to the house. "Lord Bute was often at Danesfield in those days," writes a daughter of the house, "and I remember him sitting for hours talking to my mother—almost always on religious subjects—and watching her embroidering vestments for the chapel." With the chaplain also he held many conversations, and informed himself through him about many points in Catholic practice and observance. But he was already, as has been seen, practically convinced of the truth of the Roman claims; and he subsequently took occasion more than once emphatically to deny that there was any truth whatever in the popular idea that he had been "converted" by Mgr. Capel. Writing to an intimate friend,[[1]] four or five years later, on the subject of a biography of that prelate which it was proposed to publish, he says:
If it does come out, the only thing I hope they won't put in is that he "converted" me, which would be, to put it plainly, a mere lie. Mgr. C. performed the ceremony of reception in December, 1868. I chose him for the purpose because, having several times met him at the Scott Murrays' the year before, I knew him fairly well, and was pleased with his clear and simple way of explaining certain things I wished to know. I received much spiritual help from him at a time when I was greatly in need of such help, and yet was unable, for certain reasons, to take the final step; and I was, and am, grateful to him for this and for much else. But that I was in any sense "converted" by him is simply untrue.[[2]]
1867, Converts to Roman Church
Bute was greatly attracted by the kindness, good sense, and sterling Catholic piety of his host at Danesfield, and had a sincere regard and affection for both him and his wife, and indeed for the whole family. "His initial shyness once overcome," one of them writes, "he became like one of ourselves. He shared all our home life, came to Mass and Benediction with us as a matter of course, and talked quite simply of how he longed to be a 'real' Catholic." Of his postponed reception he wrote to Mr. Scott Murray in much the same terms (though more briefly) as he had written to his friend at Oxford.
April 16, 1867.
MY DEAR MR. SCOTT MURRAY,
It is all over for the present. I have yielded to the pressure of the Court of Chancery, my guardians, and the Oxford people, and given them a promise not to be received until I am of age. I do assure you that the state of hopelessness in which I am is sad to a degree. When I see you next I can tell you, if you like, the details of a very wretched business.
I have a favour to ask, which is that you will get for me one of those crosses such as you have hanging on your beads. I hope you will not refuse me this kindness, although I remain external to the Faith.
Believe me always, with many thanks for all your kindness, most sincerely yours,
BUTE.
A letter to the same correspondent, towards the close of the year, mentions the names of some recent or prospective converts to the Roman Church, in whom Bute was naturally interested.
Dumfries House,
Christmas Eve, 1867.
I was for two nights at Blenheim at the end of term; they were rather full of Lady Portarlington's[[3]] conversion, and told me also that the young Norths had been received and their mother was about to be. We heard there also of the reception of Lord Granard and Lord Louth—an unusual event, I imagine, in Ireland.
I met at Blenheim an old Admiral, Sir Lucius Curtis[[4]] (at least eighty), who became a Catholic, he told me, soon after Newman, more than twenty years ago. Two men connected with Aberdeen, George Akers of Oriel[[5]] and William Humphrey,[[6]] the Bishop of Brechin's chaplain, are both going over, I hear, almost at once. Akers is, I believe, an able man; but a more distinguished convert is Clarke, fellow of St. John's[[7]] (and a famous rowing man). George Lane Fox and Hartwell Grissell are both certain, I believe. So you see Oxford is moving.
1868, Fatality at Christ Church
The friendship between Bute and Capel, begun at Danesfield, was strengthened during the summer term of 1868, the latter part of which Mr. Capel spent at Oxford, in residence at the Catholic presbytery. He arrived there a day or two after a sad fatality at Christ Church, the shock of which was deeply felt by all—even the most wild and thoughtless—of the members of the House. A letter from Bute thus describes it:
Ch. Ch., May 14, 1868.
One of the most frightful accidents I have ever known took place here last night. A man called Marriott, whom I knew well, one of the sporting set (he rode my horse in a steeplechase only last term), fell out of the top windows of Peckwater, and died in about half an hour. You may conceive what a state Ch. Ch. is in.... Mr. Capel is coming next Wednesday, and I am sure his visit will do good. Indeed I think this opportunity an admirable one, when the sight of death has awakened many from the dream of sensuality in which they habitually lie asleep.
A letter to the same correspondent next day gives a curious picture of the state of feeling at the House:
Ch. Ch., May 15, 1868.
Another fatal accident! What days we are living in. Yesterday afternoon some undergraduates were shooting crows with saloon pistols about Magdalen Walks, when one of them got shot through the stomach and died almost at once. He was an Exeter man.
We are all in black and white at the House, and very sad and depressed. Last night a number of us dined at the "Mitre," so as to keep away from the House. It was a strange meal—much noisy talk and a good deal drunk, but every now and then came long miserable pauses, and talk about Marriott in low, frightened tones. Afterwards they came down to my rooms for coffee, and as we sat here we could hear the passing bell tolling from St. Aldate's. Some, almost in desperation, rushed off to the billiard-room and played pool in a gloomy sort of way. It was anything to keep away out of the House. I assure you the gloom and misery of it all are excessive. I hear men saying that they simply dare not die.
I do feel that Mr. Capel will find men here not unprepared to listen to him. Left to themselves, they are evidently making desperate efforts to forget it all....
I had seen him lying in the ground-floor room where he died—totally unconscious, and breathing with great difficulty. The Senior Censor came in when I was there, and read over him the prayers for the dying. This was the very clergyman who told me a few months ago that he did not believe in prayer.... I went into the room again after the men had gone to the billiard-room. It was the room of a friend of his: the walls covered with pictures of horses and actresses, and whips and spurs and pipes. The body lay on a mattress on the floor, covered with a sheet. It was all dreadful, and I tried in vain in that room to say a De Profundis for him. As I went out I met men coming in carrying the coffin.
A letter three days later gives an account of the funeral:
Oxford, May 18.
We all assembled in the cathedral, in mourning, at 2.30 p.m. The Dean read the funeral service, making repeated and most painful slips of the tongue. Then the choir sang a really lovely anthem, "In the sight of the unwise he seemed to die, but he is at peace." All were much moved; and the man next me was, I think, crying, as indeed I was myself. We walked in procession, two and two, to Peck., then formed a lane to Canterbury Gate, through which the hearse passed, his friends following it down to the station. All in profound silence, broken only by the tramp of feet and the tolling of the bell. Everything inky black, except as much of the Dean's surplice as a huge black scarf and stole let be seen. The coffin was all black, with no cross or anything else to relieve it. I heard great disgust expressed at the godless gloom of it all.
I have mentioned Mr. Capel's visit to several; and they have all hailed it, I may say, with pleasure. What has happened here has made many think and say, "Now is the time to arise from sleep." Only they are so chained by the habits of their lives and by the fear of what the worldly consequences may be if they follow their consciences.
1868, Capel at Oxford
Mr. Capel, of whose visit to Oxford, and its possible results, his friend entertained such sanguine hopes, was at that time a man of very attractive personality, pleasing alike in appearance, manner, and address, and possessed of a singular gift of eloquence. Bute's hope, no doubt, was that his earnestness, sympathy, and tact might have a soothing effect on the nerves of his friends, still quivering from the shock of the recent catastrophe; and to some extent his anticipations were justified. Several of the undergraduates made Mr. Capel's acquaintance, and were pleased and touched by his unaffected kindness. One of them, he found, had been for some months resolved to make his submission to Rome; and by Mr. Capel's advice he asked for an interview with the Dean and frankly informed him of his intention, adding, apparently, that he thought it highly probable that his example would be followed by others. Capel wrote on May 31 to Mrs. Scott Murray:
The Dean of Christ Church is in a great state of mind, having just heard from B—— not only of his own decision, but of the likelihood of others taking a like step. Pusey, I hear, has written to the Dean to the effect that any secessions which might take place were to be attributed not to the teaching of the High Church party, but to his (the Dean's) bad government of the college! Meanwhile Liddon has issued a peremptory mandate prohibiting the undergraduates of the House from making my acquaintance. As Bute puts it, this is a clear case of shutting the stable door after the horse had been stolen. All those who want to know me, I think, already do.
Dr. Liddon expressed a desire, a little later, to meet Mr. Capel, who thus describes the interview:
I saw Liddon for an hour and a half on Saturday. Our meeting was quite cordial: our conversation quite courteous, but quite unsatisfactory, for he kept shifting his ground, and slipped away like an eel from every point I raised. To me his mind seems as confused as Pusey's, which is saying much. Yet to a section of people here he is more than Pope, a little God, whose every word they accept as an oracle from heaven. Poor good people! It is hard to understand such idolatry: it is, I think, a peculiar product of Oxford, and of one school here.
Bute is in admirable dispositions, and during the month of May has been leading the life of a true Christian. The long delay has tried him much: yet his spiritual progress since last summer has been extraordinary. I am simply amazed at some of the things he has told me. May our dear Lord be eternally blessed for all He has done, and is doing, for this soul so dear to Him.
1868, Religious studies
The long vacation of 1868 was, as has been seen, chiefly devoted to a yachting tour in the North Sea, and a visit to Russia, undertaken by Bute in the companionship of Lord Rosebery. The autumn months after the celebration of his majority were spent quietly at Cardiff and in Scotland, as much time as he could spare being given to a course of reading recommended to him by Mr. Capel, partly by way of preparation for his reception into the Church of his choice. He refers to this in an interesting letter to his attached friend at Oxford, written soon after his coming of age.
October 5, 1868.
You may imagine how busy I have been and am since my birthday. Still I find time every day for some serious reading, as to which I have had competent advice. I am going through some of the writings of S. Cyprian, S. Ambrose, and S. Gregory, and doing a little liturgical study. Then there are the 12th cent. lives of Ninian and Kentigern, and Adamnan's Columba, all of great interest to me; and I have sent for Boethius's lives of the Bishops of Aberdeen. Theiner's great work, not long ago published in Rome,[[8]] I find most valuable, and throwing a flood of light on the mediæval relations between Scotland and the Holy See.
For devotion I have St. Bernard (his Letters): a very simple prayer-book, such as children use; and the Latin Psalter. I wish you were able to use this;[[9]] there is a beauty and fulness of meaning in the Latin version which I think no modern language can give—except, you will say (and as to that you have a right to speak)[[10]] possibly Greek. I sometimes dream of trying my hand at a new English version of the Psalms; but that is part of a larger scheme which it is perhaps presumptuous of me even to think of.[[11]]
It was natural that when the long-anticipated time at length came for actually taking the step prepared for with such anxious deliberation, Bute should turn to the only Catholic priest with whom he was in any degree intimate. More than thirty years later Monsignor Capel, who had then been for some time resident in California, wrote in a San Francisco newspaper a short account of Bute's conversion, the steps that led up to it, and his own part in receiving him into the Church.
A course of reading was suggested, I seeing him from time to time. Newman's pathetic hymn, "Lead, kindly Light, amid th' encircling gloom," was often on his lips. In course of time he was fully convinced that the true Church is an organic body, a Divine institution, the source of all spiritual power and jurisdiction, and the channel of sacramental grace, under the Vicar of Christ, the Bishop of Rome.
Finally, after an hour of prayer before the Blessed Sacrament in the convent chapel at Harley House, London,[[12]] he determined to ask admission to the Church.
1868, Third visit to Holy Land
Bute's conditional baptism, profession of faith, and first Communion took place quite privately on December 8, 1868 (the Feast of the Immaculate Conception), in the chapel of the Sisters of Notre Dame, Southwark.[[13]] Mr. Capel officiated at all these acts, with the authorisation of the Bishop of Southwark (Dr. Grant), who himself assisted at them. The event was not generally known until the New Year, and it was generally believed, and has indeed often been stated since, that the reception took place on Christmas Eve. The young neophyte left England a few days after the event, and was well out of hearing by the time the excited comments of the public and the press on his action had begun to make themselves audible.
Cardiff Castle,
Cardiff,
December 16, 1868.
MY DEAR MRS. SCOTT MURRAY,
Circumstances have induced me to come to the resolution of making the pilgrimage to the Holy Land a third time. Lady Loudoun and myself are going together in my yacht, which is coming round, with her in it, to Nice in January.
I am going abroad on Monday next, and expect to arrive at Nice on Wednesday, this day week. I venture on your kindness to propose myself as your guest.
I will give no further information at present, but to say that thanks to the grace of God I am what I am. You are so kind, I believe you will be glad to see me.
Mr. Capel has been having most extraordinary success at Oxford. He leaves it to-day, as the colleges are going down, and will be at Nice some time soon. His health is giving way from the perpetual physical and mental toil. He is not going to return till May, when he will recommence. For the present he has received some converts, is preparing some more, has awakened a great many, and, partially at least, sanctified the congregation, and reclaimed the wandering. The mission has received an infusion of life. On Saturday night he heard confessions till 11.30, and again in the morning. They had general Communion, and renewal of baptismal vows; at 10.30 High Mass and sermon. During the afternoon he operated privately on some rationalists: in the evening they had a very long sermon, and Benediction, with an immense congregation, among whom were a vast number of Protestants, several Dons, and the President of Trinity College!
Yours ever very sincerely,
BUTE.
1868, Christmas at Nice
One of the Scott Murray family writes of Bute at this time:
Lord Bute was with us at Nice from December 24, 1868, until February 3, 1869. He was very shy, and refused all invitations to dances and picnics. At one afternoon dance at our house we all insisted he should appear; and then he made himself charming, but he fled as soon as he possibly could. He used to amuse us all at breakfast by reading out some of the wonderful begging-letters he received—from French girls asking him for a dot so as to enable them to marry, curés asking him to rebuild their churches, and many more wonderful requests. I think most of the English begging-letters were seen to in England, and only a few of them sent on. The numbers addressed to him every day, and by every post, were, I believe, quite incredible.
It was during this visit to Nice that he told my father that he intended leaving directions in his will that his heart should be sent at his death to Jerusalem to be buried there.
He was very kind-hearted. When leaving Nice at the end of his visit, he had got into the carriage to drive with us to the yacht, when he remembered that he had not said good-bye to my sister's ugly governess. He insisted on jumping out of the carriage and rushing up to the schoolroom for this purpose.
He was a regular boy, and enjoyed games with us all: one, I remember, was pelting one another with oranges, the little hard ones which had fallen from the trees, he leading one side, and Basil (my schoolboy brother) the other. He was always ready to join in any fun, as long as he had not to meet strangers.
These details, which are wonderfully reminiscent of the childish days at Galloway House eight years before,[[14]] and show how like the young man of twenty-one was to the boy of thirteen, may be supplemented by an extract or two from the diary of another member of the same family:
Christmas Day, 1868.—We had midnight Mass at St. Philip's, the little church in our garden. Mgr. Capel said it, he, Lord Bute, and Basil having arrived from England the day before. We all went to Communion together (Lord Bute had been received into the Church a short time previously). Mgr. Capel said his two Christmas Masses, which we heard, early next morning; and then we went to the cathedral. In the afternoon we went to Notre Dame, where Mgr. Capel preached.
Tuesday, February 2.—After Mass Lord Bute took us all over his yacht, the Ladybird, which had arrived on Saturday. He gave us luncheon, and we had to go a little before 2, as the Prince and Princess Charles of Prussia were going to see it. The cabins are most comfortable, and the saloon beautifully decorated with the arms of the ports she has put in at.
February 3.—-We drove with Lord Bute down to the port, and the Ladybird left at 4 o'clock, with Lord Bute, Lady Loudoun, Mgr. Capel, Miss Eden, and Dr. Bell safely on board.
From Nice Bute and his friends went straight to Rome—his first visit there—where he spent a week, including Ash Wednesday, on which day he received the blessed ashes from the hand of Pius IX. in the Sistine Chapel. Next morning he communicated at the private Mass of the Holy Father, who afterwards administered to him the sacrament of confirmation. Bute made a munificent offering of Peter's Pence to the Pope, who in turn presented him with a magnificent reliquary. On February 23 he wrote to Mrs. Scott Murray from Sicily:
R.Y.S. Ladybird,
Harbour of Messina.
We arrived here safely last night, and are to continue our voyage this afternoon. As we have spent so much time already we are not going to stop at Patmos on the way, but make straight for Jaffa, going north of Crete.
As Mr. Murray prophesied, I was very "agreeably disappointed" in Rome. I went to only a few of the most celebrated sanctuaries, but I liked them very much. The sight of the Holy Father had a very great effect on me, and it is impossible for me to speak too warmly of his kindness. Every one was most civil, which is a rarity for me to meet with. The Holy Father has given all the permissions which we wanted, and we have had Mass three times on board, making up a very nice altar in Mr. Capel's cabin.
The odd thing is that we have not had a row yet, but are all quite on good terms, a state of things which I suppose one need not hope to continue.
Accept my best wishes and continued thanks for kindnesses received, and believe me,
Sincerely and gratefully, yours ever,
BUTE.
1868, Letter from Jerusalem
The journey to Palestine ("the continuation of my pilgrimage of thanksgiving," as Bute called it in a subsequent letter) was safely accomplished, and Mgr. Capel wrote to Mrs. Scott Murray on Palm Sunday from Jerusalem:
Thank God, all is going well. We have had some physical discomforts, indisposition, etc., but our pilgrimage viewed spiritually is singularly blessed. I hope to lay in a store of grace for my future work. Certainly nothing could be more touching than our visits to the Holy Places. Bute gives great edification. He communicates very frequently, and is growing rapidly in Catholic devotion. Now that I live with him I see, of course, some weaknesses—among others a tendency to idleness; but he has much charm of character and personality. You will probably know through the papers that he has accepted the Grand Cross of the Order of the Holy Sepulchre.
Our journey will be dreadfully prolonged. I am afraid we shall not reach England until June: our plans change at every moment. I send for you and Mr. Murray the enclosed pictures, which have touched the Holy Places. My affectionate regards to you all, including the officer.[[15]]
Another letter from Mgr. Capel to Danesfield is dated, "In the Ladybird, about the Mediterranean, May 14, 1869." It indicates that Bute had been, as usual, not particularly fortunate in securing congenial companionship for his journey.
When we are ever to reach home I cannot say. We have already been fourteen days at sea and have not yet reached our port. Sicily is in sight, and I trust we may very soon reach Messina. If not we shall be starved! The steward solemnly tells us we have bread for only three days longer, and that the stores are almost all consumed.
Of our party, I think I may say that Lady Loudoun, Miss Eden, and the doctor are the worse for their visit to Jerusalem. They had the misfortune to make acquaintance with people, calling themselves religious, whose delight seems to be to deny the authenticity of every single sacred site. The result has been, as might have been expected, a semi-disbelief in everything.
I think, on the other hand, the pilgrimage has been very advantageous to Bute. It has helped him to gather up his thoughts and prepare for action and the work of his life. He has kindly appointed me his chaplain. I am not to live at either of his houses, but to be ready when needed to go to him and to travel with him. I cannot but feel that this arrangement (which is entirely his own idea) will allow me to do much more good than if I were settled in any one spot. I hope it may turn to the advantage of my soul and to God's glory.
1869, Early Catholic experiences
Bute left his yacht at Marseilles (his companions continuing the voyage to England by Gibraltar and the Bay of Biscay), and repaired to Paris, to complete his pilgrimage by a visit of devotion and thanksgiving to the famous shrine of Our Lady of Victories. On returning home he went to Cardiff, and thence he wrote, later in the year, some account of himself and his doings in a long and interesting letter to his faithful friend at Oxford.
Cardiff Castle,
November 5, 1869.
MY DEAR MISS SKENE,
During the past year I have had several kind letters from you, which have gone unanswered. Before me lie the three first pages of a letter to you dated October 1, but never finished. I had at that time only just received your last, as I had been away from home for some months, and had skilfully concealed my addresses from every one, lest any letters (mine are almost invariably business or beggars) should follow and find me out.
The first thing you will want to know is how I am getting on in the Church. I don't remember whether I ever wrote to you from Nice or not; but that, if I had, could only have been so soon after my reception as to make it almost valueless. I have not been received a year, so I suppose what I say now is not worth very much. I am, thank God, very comfortable. I had, no doubt, a first flush of fervour and enthusiasm, but that soon passed away, and I became almost immediately quite a humdrum Catholic. The practices, as you know, were already familiar to me; and I knew also a great many, if not all, of the practical drawbacks, of which florid figured music and appropriated and paid-for sittings in church are (to me) the most distasteful. Florid forms of devotion and piety have never appealed to me any more than florid music; and in that respect I am (so I am told) considered like the slowest type of old English Catholicism. The old-fashioned "Garden of the Soul" is my book, except when visiting some very holy shrine, when I find myself able to use occasionally the "Prayers of St. Gertrude," or at least some of them.
I am perfectly at peace in the Church, and have been. My taste for controversy has gone, and for theological inquiry also, to great extent. I think that when one has once entered the Church—well, one has jumped over the cliff and reached the bottom, safe and sound it is true, but in a condition that renders restlessness impossible and controversy absolutely superfluous.
I left Nice, as you are aware, at the beginning of February, went to Rome for a week, to be confirmed by the Holy Father, and then continued the pilgrimage of thanksgiving to Jerusalem. I performed the last ceremonies in the sanctuary of Our Lady of Victories in Paris about the beginning of June, and returned to England. I had kept as much as possible out of the way of letters and newspapers, but had inevitably heard much that was very disagreeable—all sorts of lying stories, for instance, deliberately and maliciously circulated about me—and I arrived here in a state of very uncomfortable anticipation. However, I found everything very much better than I anticipated. Every one seemed glad to see me, and I received much kindness from all the people about. Religious matters were easily arranged; and though large mobs of people assembled to see me go to Mass, they were disappointed, as I had got a little oratory ready in the house, which is served every day by the Fathers of Charity. And I have special permission from the Pope for myself, my "familiars" and guests to satisfy the obligation in it on every day in the year. We have here between 9,000 and 10,000 Catholics, who are of course delighted at what has happened.
I am going to Rome about the 23rd of this month, and shall, I think, certainly stay there till about Septuagesima; but if I am tempted I shall stop over Easter. When I return I shall go to Bute. Bute will be much stiffer than this: they got pictures of me and made them into cockshys; and I have had at least one threatening letter from there. Besides that there are no Catholics that I know of,[[16]] and I cannot have a daily Mass.
My old friends are all much the same, except Lady Elizabeth, who takes no more notice of me than if I were a dead dog. I have written her letter after letter, without even acknowledgment. The company of my dear friend, Sneyd, is a great pleasure to me. He is my secretary. He is, however, an awful liberal, and is even now reading Charles Kingsley's "Hypatia" with approval. I consider it one of the most impure as well as heretical books I ever saw. I have been reading lately, and with the greatest pleasure, Canon Jenkins's "Age of the Martyrs,"[[17]] which is really charming, and a worthy product of Oxford, where, however, I hear that the blighting disease of Liberalism has fairly set in. You have, I hear, Mgr. Capel with you, lecturing on something or other; but I know not what success or effect he has had. Ever most sincerely yours,
BUTE.
1869, at Mountstuart
There were reasons why the feeling in the island of Bute about the young peer's change of religion was, as he expressed it, "much stiffer" than it was in Cardiff. The sentiments of resentful surprise which the Presbyterians felt at the lord of the island embracing a faith so alien from their own was fostered and aggravated by the disappointment with which the local Liberals learned that he was politically quite out of sympathy with the Whig principles of his kinsman and former tutor-at-law, the Liberal M.P. for Cardiff and Lord-Lieutenant of Buteshire.[[18]] One Radical newspaper asserted that Lord Bute had purposely delayed the profession of his new faith until after the general election, so that his influence as a Tory might help the Conservative candidate for the county to win the seat! And the Liberal Buteman thought fit to devote a page, a month after Bute's reception into the Church, to reprinting a catena of the articles commenting on that event which had appeared in the principal newspapers of the country. The feeling with which, in an age more tolerant or more indifferent, one peruses these journalistic effusions, is one of wonder, first at their extraordinary impertinence, and secondly at the cool audacity with which they sit in judgment on the action of one of whose character, personality, and motives they one and all show themselves to be in a state of absolutely abysmal ignorance. The Times summed up a spiteful article by concluding that the "defection of an average curate would have said more for the Roman Catholic religion, and might be expected to lead to more lasting results"; the Daily News announced that the new convert "had taken up his honours, wealth, and influence, and laid them in the lap of the Church of Rome," adding that it was "of course a pity when a man believed too much in religion"; a West of Scotland journal was "sure that the acquisition would, except in a pecuniary way, be of little advantage to those who had wheedled him out of his wits and into their snares"; a Glasgow evening paper denounced the "Jesuitism" with which "his perverted lordship" had denied the fact of his reception in 1867, and the "fatal facility" with which he had been received in 1868; and another Scottish journal, after waxing eloquent over the "lithe figure, agile step, and penetrating eye of the handsome young peer," lamented that "the poorest labourer on his vast domains had an immediate access to truth and duty, to conscience, and to God, which since last Christmas was denied to his unfortunate lord." The Glasgow Herald, after admitting that Lord Bute "was believed to be a studious, thoughtful youth, with high ideas of the responsibility of his position," dolefully goes on: "If, as is most likely, this perversion is the result of priestly influences acting upon a weak, ductile, and naturally superstitious mind, we may expect a continual eclipse of all intellectual vigour." One wonders if this sapient prophet ever had the grace to acknowledge the falsity of his forecast. The Scotsman was an honourable exception to the general tone of the contemporary press. It announced the event "not in the slightest degree in the spirit of taunt or reproach"; and the final sentence of a temperate article repudiated any desire "to reproach Lord Bute with a change of religious opinion, which even those who most deeply regret it must admit to be made at great sacrifices and under the influence only of conscience."
On this reasonable and even generous note the subject may well be left. A man of sensitive and impressionable nature, and one who was himself possessed by an almost passionate love of truth, could not be insensible to public attacks on his candour and honesty, or to mendacious statements of alleged facts, such as he refers to in his letter cited above. But he bore them all in silence, with the quiet dignity characteristic of him, and trusting to time for the vindication of the rectitude of his motives and conduct. How amply this trust was justified was shown by the mutual respect, regard, and affection which daily grew and strengthened between him and his friends, neighbours, and dependents, not only in Bute, but on his extensive estates in other parts of the country, during the next thirty years.
[[1]] Hartwell Grissell. The letter was dated from Mountstuart, November 19, 1872.
[[2]] Mr. Buckle, in Vol. V. of his "Life of Disraeli," quotes Mr. Montague Corry as writing (September 22, 1868): "Fergusson says no ingenuity can counteract the influence which certain priests and prelates have over him, chief among them being Monsignor Capel. The speedy result is inevitable."
Sir James Fergusson, as Bute's guardian, probably felt it necessary to take this view in self-vindication. The fact, however, was, as is abundantly shown by the letter in the text, as well as by the authentic history of Bute's conversion as given in preceding pages, that the event was brought about by his own study, thought, and prayer, and was in no sense due to the influence of Capel, or of any other "priests or prelates."
[[3]] Alexandrina Lady Portarlington (a daughter of the third Marquess of Londonderry) was sister-in-law to the seventh Duke of Marlborough, Bute's host at Blenheim. Lord and Lady North, who were received into the Church about this time, were not very distant neighbours of Blenheim, living at Wroxton Abbey, near Banbury.
[[4]] Second baronet of Gatcombe, Hants. He died in 1869, in his eighty-third year.
[[5]] A former curate of Dr. F. G. Lee at Aberdeen. He became a canon of Westminster and president of St. Edmund's College, Ware.
[[6]] M.A. of Aberdeen University; afterwards the distinguished Jesuit writer and preacher.
[[7]] Became a Jesuit, rector of Wimbledon College, and later first Master of Campion Hall, Oxford.
[[8]] This was Aug. Theiner's "Vetera Monumenta Hibernorum atque Scotorum, historiam illustrantia, 1216-1547," published at Rome in 1864.
[[9]] More than a dozen years later Bute wrote to his friend regretting her ignorance of "the dead languages," and recommending her to begin the study of Hebrew!
[[10]] Miss Skene had lived with her father at Athens continuously from her eighteenth to her twenty-fourth year, and was well acquainted with the language and literature of modern Greece.
[[11]] The allusion, no doubt, is to his projected translation of the Roman Breviary, published eleven years later.
[[12]] The convent of Marie Réparatrice, founded at Harley House, Marylebone, in 1862. It was transferred in 1899 to Willesden, and a year later to its present site at Chiswick.
[[13]] The temporary chapel, now used as the Sisters' community-room. Bishop Grant was at this time acting as chaplain to the nuns, and saying Mass for them daily. Bute attended this Mass for a week previous to his reception, breakfasting afterwards with the bishop (who was giving him a course of instruction) in the convent parlour.
[[14]] Ante, Chapter I, p. [11].
[[15]] Charles Scott Murray, who had just got his commission in the 1st Life Guards.
[[16]] The writer was misinformed as to this. There had been a Catholic chapel at Rothesay since 1839; and a larger church (St. Andrew's) had been opened two years before Bute's conversion. The number of Catholics at this time was probably between two and three hundred.
[[17]] See post, pp. [102], [103]. This book had just been published at Oxford. Two volumes of selections from Canon Jenkins's MSS. writings were issued in 1879, after his death.
[[18]] Colonel James Frederick Crichton Stuart, Liberal for Cardiff from 1857 to 1880.