CHAPTER IV
CAMBRIDGE (Continued)
In these years of all-round training Cambridge was doing for Charles Dilke what it has done for hundreds of other young men. The exceptional in his case sprang from the tie which linked this young athlete to the old scholar who, in his library at Sloane Street, or among his flowers at Alice Holt, was ceaselessly preoccupied with detail of the undergraduate's life and work. From the first there was a pathos in his eagerness to follow and understand all the minutiae of an unfamiliar scene. At the close of Charles Dilke's first term he wrote (December 1st, 1862):
"Your letter gave me great pleasure, as indeed for one reason or another, or for no reason if you please, your letters always do; though not being a Cambridge man, I am at times a little puzzled…. What a bore I shall be after the 13th with my endless enquiries."
Ten days later he is jubilant over the results of the college examination which closed the first term:
"Hurrah! hurrah! my dear grandson. Ninety-seven out of a hundred— eleven above the second 'man'—is a position that would satisfy a whole family of loving friends, even if they were all grandfathers."
After every college examination the grandson sent lists of results, compiled with elaborate detail. The grandfather studied them, treasured them, compared them, wanted to know why this man had fallen back, how the other had advanced, and always with the same warm outflow of sympathy and pride over his own pupil. There they lie to-day in the despatch-boxes, preserved as a memorial of that love by the man on whom it was expended. On one is noted:
"Many scraps such as this, and his letters, show the loving care with which my grandfather watched over my progress at the University."
The beginning of his first Long Vacation he spent in travelling through Germany, Holland, and Belgium with his father. Later, in August, he visited Jersey and Guernsey, and went to France alone, making pilgrimage from Cherbourg to Tocqueville's two houses, and filling notebooks with observations on Norman architecture at St. Lô, Coutances, and elsewhere. He was perfecting his mastery of the language, too, and notes long after: "On this journey I was once taken for a Frenchman, but my French was not so good as it was about 1870." But always and everywhere he observed; and sent back the results of his observation to the man who had trained it. On June 30th, 1863, he writes:
"I have been all over Brussels to-day. My previous estimate of the
place is confirmed. It apes Paris without having any of the Parisian
charms, just as its people speak French without being able to
pronounce it.
"The two modern pictures in the Palais de Justice are to me worth all
the so-called Rubenses in the place. They are by Gallait and de
Biefve, and the one is our old friend of last year in London, 'The
Abdication of Charles V.'
"Rogier—the great Belgian Minister—has failed to secure his return
in the late elections, owing to his having given a vote unpopular to
his constituents on the fortification scheme. The Catholics lost three
votes (regained by the advanced party) in the Senate these elections.
"The names of the sides of the chambers are significant:
"Liberals. — Catholics.
"What a fine country Belgium would be if it could get rid of its priests a little more. The people understand freedom. In Ghent the priests are rich, but utterly powerless owing to the extent of the manufacturing interest."
When he returned to Cambridge for the October term of 1863, his hard reading did not satisfy his prodigious power for work. He was Vice- President of the Union, and he undertook the more arduous duties of Secretary and Treasurer of the College Boat Club. When at the beginning of 1864 he was re-elected Vice-President of the Union, his grandfather wrote: "Your University career has proved to me that you have a happiness of manner that wins friends." Mr. Dilke's health began to decline notably in the early part of 1864, and loss of sight menaced him. He took the doctor's sentence, that he must refrain altogether from reading, with characteristic philosophy, but added: "I have ordered that newspapers are not to be sent here, so you must excuse it if, when we meet, I am a little in arrear of the course of life."
Early in February, 1864, Charles Dilke had entered without training for a walking race, and had beaten the University champion, Patrick, covering the mile ("in a gale of wind and over heavy slush") in eight minutes and forty-two seconds. [Footnote: Mr. Patrick, afterwards member of Parliament, and from 1886 Permanent Under-Secretary for Scotland.] To this announcement his grandfather made pleasant reply, threatening to come up and compete in person, but three days later wrote:
"I wish you had sent me a Cambridge paper which contained an account of your Olympic games. It is not too late now if you can get one; I reserve the right of reading everything that relates to you and your concerns."
Meanwhile Charles Dilke's reading went on with feverish energy. The dangerous rival was closely watched. "Shee has been sitting up till ominously late hours for some nights past. His father came up last night and left again to-night, but I fear he did not make his son waste much time." The competitors were straining then for a college law prize, but the letter goes on to observe very sagely:
"The law is of little consequence, as neither of us can know anything about it at present; but I should like to win the essay prize."
The prize was the annual college prize for the best English essay, and that year's subject was "Sir Robert Walpole." Compositions were presumably sent in after the Christmas vacation, for on February 29th, 1864, a fortnight after the announcement as to the walking race, comes this laconic bulletin:
"MY DEAR GRANDFATHER,
"English Essay Prize: Dilke.
Honourably mentioned: Osborn, Shee.
Latin Essay Prize: Warr.
Honourably mentioned: Casswell. [Footnote: A scholar of Sir Charles's
year, and one of his most frequent associates in undergraduate days.]
"They say that parts of my essay were vulgar.
"Your affectionate grandson,
"CHAS. W. DILKE."
That last sentence roused the old critic:
"I should like to read the whole essay. My especial interest is aroused by the charge of occasional vulgarity. If it be true, it is not improbable that the writer caught the infection from his grandfather. With one half the world, in its judgment of literature and of life, vulgarity is the opposite of gentility, and gentility is merely negative, and implies the absence of all character, and, in language, of all idiom, all bone and muscle. I have a notion—only do not whisper such heresy within college walls—that a college tutor must be genteel in his college judgments, that 'The Polite Letter Writer' was the work of an M.A. in the 'Augustan Age.' You may find in Shakespeare household words and phrases from every condition and walk in life—as much coarseness as you please to look for—anything and everything except gentility and vulgarity. Occasional vulgarity is, therefore, a question on which I refuse to take the opinion of any man not well known to me."
On one matter the pupil was recalcitrant. Mr. Dilke begged him to give "one hour or one half-hour a day" to mastering Greek, so as to be able to read it with pleasure—a mastery which could only be acquired "before you enter on the direct purpose and business of life." But "insuperable difficulties" presented themselves. "It is of considerable importance that I should be first in the college Law May examination." Hopes of compliance in a later period were held out, to which Mr. Dilke replied shrewdly that "insuperable difficulties" were often temperamental, and that during the whole period of study equally strong reasons for postponement would continue to present themselves; and then would come "the all-engrossing business of life, and there is an end of half-hours."
In May, 1864, Mr. Dilke was present on the bank at 'Grassy' when, on the second night of the races, Trinity Hall, with his grandson rowing at No. 3, went head of the river.
"The ever-memorable May 12th, 1864.
"MY DEAR FATHER,
"Last night we gained on 3rd Trinity all the way to Ditton Corner, where we were overlapping. Our coxswain made a shot, missed them, and we went into the mid-stream. After our misfortune we paddled slowly over the long reach, and came in half a length behind 3rd Trinity and 2 lengths ahead of 1st Trinity. To-night we did not gain much up to the Plough, where we spurted and caught up 3rd directly; we rowed round Ditton Corner overlapping, and so for 100 yds. more, and then made our bump. The whole of the crew and Stephen were chaired and carried round the quad. [Footnote: Leslie Stephen had coached the boat, which stayed head throughout the races. Judge Steavenson rowed in it at No. 5, where he had rowed earlier in the year for the University. In 1868 it was settled that 'the outrigger which was rowed head of the river in 1864 should be cut up, and the pieces distributed amongst the members of the crew who rowed in her in that year.' Dilke's piece always hung against the wall in his study in Sloane Street.] Our 2nd has made its bump each night, and is 8th on the river!!!"
Hardly were the May races over before the college Law examination began.
On May 31st Charles Dilke wrote to his grandfather:
"The results will be known to-morrow. I have worked as hard as it is possible for me to do, for I have worked till I became almost deprived of memory…. Shee has worked, too, as hard as he could, and was in a dreadful state of nervous excitement this evening. I almost hope that he is first, for I should like to see him get his scholarship. Warr tried to get me to refuse to go in for the examination, or find some pretext for being away, in order to let our common friend get his scholarship; but I said that I thought he would beat me, and that he should have the glory of beating my best efforts if he beat me at all."
An underlying reason against his acceptance of Warr's advice may be found in this letter from Mr. Dilke at Alice Holt to his son Wentworth:
"June 3rd, 1864.
"If you carried out your intention of going to and returning from Cambridge this day, you know, and all in Sloane Street know, that our noble fellow has again won the prize. But the weather may have deterred you, and on the possible chance I copy the results:
"1. Chas. Dilke, 570 marks. Prize. Shee, 440
"What a blessing that boy has been to my old age! May God reward him! I feel for Shee! for he has laboured long and zealously. I wish there had been two prizes.
"I will not mix the subject with baser matter, so shall write my memoranda on another sheet.
"Your affectionate father,
"C. W. D."
After the May term came Henley Regatta, and Trinity Hall was again entered for the Grand Challenge. Many of the friends, Shee amongst them, had taken up their quarters there, along with the oarsmen; and Warr, who was not at Henley, wrote pressing a prompt return to Cambridge for the Long Vacation term. As the Henley week progressed [Footnote: Dilke rowed again both for the Grand Challenge and the Ladies' Plate. In each Trinity Hall met the ultimate winner in the trial heat, and were defeated by Kingston and by Eton, but beat London and Radley.] Mr. Dilke writes:
"My movements may be absolutely regulated by your wishes or convenience. If you desire to pay a visit to the Holt, I have there the chance of a quicker recovery, if I am to go on well; whereas if there be more inducements to visit London, why here I have the benefit of the doctors should I not make progress. The pleasure and the advantages being equal to me, you have only to decide. Let me know your decision by return of post."
Charles Dilke decided for London, and there spent three or four days in the company of his family, and, above all, of his grandfather. Then he went back to Cambridge, and lived the life of strenuous, healthy young men in the summer weather; getting up at five o'clock in the mornings, bathing, reading long hours, walking long walks, talking the long talks of youth. The correspondence with his grandfather centred chiefly now on the subject for the next year's essay competition, which had been announced at the close of the May term, and which, as Charles Dilke said, "seems to be rather in my line."
It was Pope's couplet:
"For forms of government let fools contest,
Whatever is best administered is best."
It was no less in old Mr. Dilke's line than in his grandson's. He wrote on July 14th from Alice Holt a page of admirable criticism on the scheme as outlined by his grandson, and concludes in his habitual tone of affectionate self-depreciation:
"This is another of my old prosings—another proof that love and good will and good wishes remain when power to serve is gone…."
With the precocious maturity of Charles Dilke's intellect had gone a slowness of development in other directions. It is true that those Cambridge men who remember him as an undergraduate remember him as serious, but full of high animal spirits and sense of fun; while everyone speaks of his charm and gaiety. "We were all in love with him," says one vivacious old lady, who belonged to the circle of connections and relatives that frequented 76, Sloane Street. But the letters of his early days at Cambridge hardly show that 'happiness of manner' which his grandfather attributed to him. Only now does the whole personality begin to emerge, as in a letter of 1864, in which he begs his grandfather, because "writing is irksome to you," to send two very short letters rather than one longer one; "for the receipt of a letter gives me an excuse to write again, while on the other hand I can by habit catch your meaning by the first words of your shortest criticisms."
The rest of the sheet was occupied by very able analysis of an article which had been published in the Athenaeum—criticism mature and manly both in thought and expression. The change did not escape the shrewd observer. Mr. Dilke replied:
"ALICE HOLT, "BY FARNHAM, SURREY, "July 28th, 1864.
"MY VERY DEAR GRANDSON,
"Your letters give me very great pleasure, not because they are kind and considerate, of which I had evidence enough long since, not because they flatter the vanity of the old man by asking his opinion, which few now regard, but because I see in them a gradual development of your own mind."
He added a few words in praise of the analysis, but pointed out that the reviewer, whom Charles Dilke censured, was treating a well-worn subject— Bentham's Philosophy—and therefore needed to aim at freshness of view rather than thoroughness of exposition. He added:
"I, however, am delighted with the Article, which is full of promise
of a coming man by which the old journal may benefit."
Save for a final "God bless you!" from "as ever, your affectionate
Grand.," that was the last word written by Mr. Dilke to his grandson.
Within a week he was struck down by what proved to be his fatal illness.
Early on August 8th Charles Dilke wrote to his father that he was deterred from coming home only by the fear lest his sudden arrival might "frighten grandfather about himself and make him worse." A few hours later he was summoned. The rest may be given in his own words:
'August 8th, Monday.—I received a telegram from my father at noon: "You had better come here." I left by the 1.30 train, and reached Alice Holt at half-past six. My Father met me on the lawn: he was crying bitterly, and said, "He lives only to see you." I went upstairs and sat down by the sofa, on which lay the Grand., looking haggard, but still a noble wreck. I took his hand, and he began to talk of very trivial matters—of Cambridge everyday life—his favourite theme of old. He seemed to be testing his strength, for at last he said: "I shall be able to talk to-morrow; I may last some weeks; but were it not for the pang that all of you would feel, I should prefer that it should end at once. I have had a good time of it."
'He had been saying all that morning: "Is that a carriage I hear?" or
"I shall live to see him."
'Tuesday.—When I went in to him, he sent away the others, and told me to look for an envelope and a key. I failed to find it, and fetched Morris, who after a careful search found the key, but no envelope. We had both passed over my last letter (August 6th), which lay on the table. He made us both leave the room, but recalled me directly, and when I entered had banknotes in his hand, which he must have taken from the envelope of my letter. (This involved rising.) He said: "I cannot live, I fear, to your birthday—I want to make you a present—I think I have heard you say that you should like a stop-watch—I have made careful inquiries as to the price—and have saved—as I believe— sufficient." He then gave me notes, and the key of a desk in London, in the secret drawer of which I should find the remaining money. He then gave me the disposition of his papers and manuscripts, directing that what I did not want should go to the British Museum. He then said: "I have nothing more to say but that you have fulfilled—my every hope—beyond all measure—and—I am deeply—grateful."
'He died in my presence on Wednesday, 10th, at half-past one, in
perfect peace.'
[Illustration: MR. C. W. DILKE.
From the painting by Arthur Hughes ]