23 June 1884 – 29 June 1884

Helen and I by invitation to the wedding of Hallam and Miss Audrey Boyle. The T. party were in our train in another carriage. We met at Waterloo Station. We in hansom to Dean's Yard — take our places in Henry VII. 's Chapel. Enter old Mrs. Procter and daughter, who sat next us ; Lord Houghton, Mr. Lewis Morris, Mr. Matthew Arnold, Lecky, etc. Browning up in a Stall ; he caught my eye and gave a friendly wink. Tennyson came in, cool and self-possessed, with Mrs. F. Locker on his arm. Lady Tennyson, supported by Lionel. Ceremony. Then we all moved out slowly to the Deanery. Caldecott joined us in the aisle. Lecky, Mrs. Lecky, etc., etc. We had little more than a glimpse of the Bride — Happiness to them ! worthy young people, they deserve it. A shakehands with Dean Bradley, who asks me to find him a cottage in our neighbourhood to run down to. In the Chapel we had just in front of us, and spoke to, T.'s sisters, Matilda — always most simple, friendly, and a pleasure to talk to — and Mrs. Lushington, whom we know but from one evening together at Dover. Mr. Lushington, after all these years, recollected me well and some talk we had together (which I have forgotten) — he looks little older, and bears his age like a cheerful wise man. JVitley, July 26. — After much urging from H. (I have always a rooted belief that people don't really want to see me) I went to Haslemere to-day : cool with showers : and walked up to Aldworth, arriving about 3 P.M. Found an arch in Avenue, 'Welcome Home' — so the Bride and Bridegroom are back. ' Lady Tennyson ' — ' Yes sir,' — on her sofa, sweet, pale and friendly. Enter Hallam, looking stouter and face broadened. He tries his Father's door. ' Come in,' and there was T., just wakened from his usual nap — glad to see me, and says, ' I've done an Irish poem and I want you to help me with the brogue. But you're from the North.' I told him I knew various Irish brogues — had he chosen any one in particular .? 'No.' He took up Carleton's Traits and Stories, which he was reading for the first time (to get up the brogue), and was delighted with, all the more for its caricature. Then he produced the MS. of ' Molly Maghee ' (I asked him to strike out the ' h '), and we spent about an hour over it. First Tennyson read the piece to me, I com- menting on it ; then I read it to him, he looking over my arm the while. Aubrey de Vere gave him the subject, as a fact — the body of a man drowned in a bog-hole found undecayed after forty years or so. His old sweetheart recognises him and drops down ' dead on the dead.' The same incident is told of a Cornish miner, and I published a prose story upon it in Leigh Hunt's Journal. Hamilton Aide has a poem on the same subject. I suggested many corrections in the brogue, and some in other points. I told T. the Irish would not like it, but he didn't see why not. I am pressed to stay for dinner, and then to stay the night — consent, and send telegram to Helen. Then T. and I, in rain, make a little run in the copses to a new summer-house with a writing-table and pens, and a vista cut in front to see the vast view of the weald, etc. Dinner at 6.30. Stay a Httle with Lady T. and Hallam : then drawing-room, where T. at table close to window with Mrs. Hallam — wine and strawberries. He thinks England is entering on gloomy times — perhaps coming to the end of her grandeur and glory. * Goschen feels the same — is much depressed about it, the Lord Chancellor too. I voted for the Franchise to avoid worse things.' I said I wished he had voted against Pigeon Torture. Hallam. — 'So do I.' T. said nothing, but I stuck to the subject. ' Hope you'll vote for the Bill next time.' ' Don't think I'll ever go into the House again,' ' Well, you can pair.' ' Lecky says the Irish want a despot,' and T. agrees. ' The English are not poetical or musical or clever — they're very stupid and heavy — but they are for reasonable and constitutional liberty, that a man should have his own opinion without being knocked on the head for it. In Ireland, if I don't agree with a man, he shoots me or knocks my brains out ! I never knew a rational Irishman in my life ! except you ' (this sounded very parenthetical), ' and you don't care a pin for the grand Empire of England. You ought to be proud surely to be part of it. There you are, with an English name, English in every way, but you happened to be born in Ireland, therefore you are for it.' I pleaded that I was more impartial than most people ; ' if I were Nationalist I might be popular in Ireland and perhaps get into Parliament if I liked. My brother was offered a seat for Waterford free of cost.' T. — ' I hate to think of Ireland. Here they are, after 700 years raging and roaring.' W. A. — ' A most unlucky country ! ' (to which Hallam agreed). ' Suppose England tried leaving them to themselves.' T.— ' Civil War ! ' W. A. — ' Then let them settle it. England would be able to take care of herself.' T. — ' Ireland might join with France against England.' W. A. — ' Another plan : take away all franchise and representation from Ireland for seven years, letting her manage her local affairs as she pleases.' T. — ' They would roar incessantly. I hate speaking of it ! ' (da capo). T. was shocked to hear of William Morris's Democratic Socialism, and asked to see a copy of Justice. (Morris's Justice^ I partly agree with and partly detest. It is incendiary and atheistic, and would upset every- thing. How about America, which started a hundred years ago as a democracy with almost ideal advantages ? I want reforms and thorough-going ones, but not by the hands of atheists and anarchists.) By the evening post came a packet from ' O. Weber,' Copenhagen, asking Lord Tennyson to present the enclosed MS. translation into Danish of his splendid dramas The Cup and The Falcon to H.R.H. the Prin- cess of Wales.