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21. of consciousness that came from time to time,
although a new symptom had appeared in the
extreme restlessness that alternated with the
lethargy.
For six weeks hope came and went, everything
being done that love could devise or devotion carry
out. In addition to the two constant companions,
there were two trained nurses: and the dear patient,
in the quiet intervals, was her sweetest self; so
careful about giving trouble, and so courteous in her
acknowledgment of service rendered, so grieved that
the nurses should be kept up at night, and so
anxious that Miss Millner and Miss Edwards should
know how much she felt their kind attention.
Miss Edwards gives some interesting details of
these last months after the return home from this
last holiday, when, after a few weeks of care and
nursing, she had seemed better than at any time
during the year:—
“Three weeks of peaceful, quiet enjoyment followed this
illness, during which Miss Buss received many of her friends
at her own house, and was further made happy by a visit
from her old and intimate friend, Mrs. Hodgson, who has
since written: ‘I am very thankful that I had such a sweet,
happy time with my friend before the last illness came, and
when she could in a measure enjoy life.’
22. “During this period of improved health Miss Buss paid her
last three visits to the school she loved so dearly, visits that
will not soon be forgotten by those who then saw her. On
October 31st she was present in the evening at the ‘old
pupils’’ meeting, and on November 2nd, during part of the
school concert, and, with her usual sympathetic thought of
others, sent on each occasion for several of the music
teachers and others of the staff to sit by her in turn and
exchange a few words.
“The last occasion on which our dear head-mistress was at
Sandall Road was on November 7th, when she distributed
the holiday prizes, making kindly inquiries, as each girl whom
she knew came before her, for parents and brothers and
sisters at home, and taking special notice of the little ones,
for whom she had brought a large packet of sweets.
“Before this illness came on she had with her own hands
arranged all her Christmas gifts and ordered her Christmas
cards, received by many of her friends on that sad Christmas
Day. There were also some packets addressed by herself of
mementoes to friends, all the more precious for this evidence
of thoughtful foresight.
“On Saturday, November 10th, friends came to lunch, and
Miss Buss was well enough to enjoy their society, and show
particular interest in the children, finding games and other
amusement for them.
“On this day also she had a visit from an old pupil—and
colleague—who brought her little baby-girl, asking
permission to call her Frances Mary, a request which greatly
touched Miss Buss. Constantly during her illness she spoke of
her ‘little namesake baby,’ who once, at the dear invalid’s
special wish, was brought to see her.
“On November 11th Miss Buss attended the short morning
service at the church of St. Mary the Virgin, almost next door
23. to Myra Lodge.
“On Monday evening she was able to be with the girls at
No. 89, enjoying, as she always did, to see them happy in
playing games.
“The next day two old pupils took tea with her, and for the
Wednesday a luncheon-party of some of the clergy and
workers of Holy Trinity had been arranged. But this, by the
doctor’s orders, had to be postponed.”
On the Thursday before the end there was a
return of consciousness for some hours, with full
recognition of her nephew, the Rev. Charles Caron
Buss, the “Charlie boy” of olden days, whom she now
questioned tenderly about his little curly-headed
Kenneth, her latest delight. She also recognized and
talked with Mrs. Alfred Buss. Then came her “own
boy,” the Rev. Francis F. Buss, and she was able to
follow the Service for the Visitation of the Sick, and
to join once more in the Veni Creator, and then, for
the last time, in the words of the Collect, so often on
her lips, to seek from the “Fountain of all Wisdom
those things which for our unworthiness we dare not,
and for our blindness we cannot, ask”—a prayer so
meet for one who had walked from earliest days so
humbly with her God—a prayer so soon to be
answered by the revelation of “the things prepared
for them that love.”
24. With this last self-surrender she let go her hold on
earth, sinking again into a state of coma that grew
deeper and deeper till it merged into the sleep of
death. It lasted for three whole days longer, during
which her family and a few intimate friends were
unremitting in their visits, though there was nothing
to be done but take a sad look at the dear face, and
go away with the terrible sense of change, as they
thought of that still form, those closed eyes, those
unanswering lips from which came now only that
slow laboured breathing, and remembered their
friend as they had always known her before, so alert,
so alive to every touch, so quick of response to the
faintest appeal. The only break in this long stillness
came in the hymns which from time to time were
sung softly by the watchers at the bedside, in the
hope that those familiar sounds might penetrate,
beneath the silence.
All Sunday night the family remained in
expectation—almost in hope—of the release which
seemed so near, waiting as they that watch for the
morning. Christmas Eve dawned, and, as the day
advanced to high noon, the heavy breathing grew
more and more quiet, till at length came perfect
peace, and the watchers knew that their beloved had
passed from death to life.
25. “For fifty years with dauntless heart
Step after step she won her way,
Through times of cloud, and barren praise,
Up to the well-earned golden days
Of proud success, and prouder fame;
Where no high thought of self had part,
No poor ambition of display,
To dim the lustre of her name.
“So, far and wide, o’er mead and lea,
Was sown the seed; and many a waste
Broke into blossom; fields grew white
To harvest that she lived to see,
Though not the fuller fruit to taste
(Which ages yet to come shall reap)
Ere fell the shadow of the night,
And, dauntless still, she sank to sleep.
“To busy hands and weary brain
Thus comes at last the dawn of peace,
Rest after noble toil, in light
Beyond the shadows, infinite;
Yea, life in Him who once again
By death for ever lives: release
From bonds to freedom. None may tell
Her bliss, but surely ‘SHE SLEEPS WELL.’”
(Rev. B. G. Johns.)
27. CHAPTER VI.
“AND HER WORKS DO FOLLOW HER.”
“Give her of the fruit of her hands: and let her own works
praise her in the gates.”—Prov. xxxi. 31.
“Of feeble knees the strengthener,
The stay of timid hearts,
Does all her might go out with her
Who now to rest departs?
Nay, for the children of her love,
To their full stature grown,
Must learn amid their tears to prove
How they can go alone.”
Emily Hickey.
Fifty years of work! Of work that, had she been other
than she was, might have been mere thankless
drudgery; of work that, being what she was, remains
a living influence, spreading, in ever-widening circles,
to distances beyond compute. Fifty years of love,
poured out from a heart often disappointed, but
never embittered; often left unfilled, but never found
28. empty; often strained to utmost tension, but never
relaxing its high energy. Being as she was, refreshed
by the living water, sustained by the bread of life, the
strength was hers that knows neither drought nor
famine.
For more than forty years she had worshipped in
the same church—Holy Trinity—built by her friend
the Rev. David Laing, and afterwards held by her
friends, the Rev. E. Spooner, the Rev. Charles Lee,
and Dr. Cutts.
To this altar she came, through all her working
time, to renew the strength in which her work was
done as “Christ’s faithful soldier and servant to her
life’s end.” And here, when that end came, the last
gleams of the dying year fell on the white blossoms
that hid all that was mortal of that brave spirit, while
the vast crowd knelt to give thanks for a life which
had made all life so much the more worth living to
themselves and to all women who should come after
them.
“The good die never!” There can be no end to this
high influence that for the half-century past has gone
out, carrying with it all that is true, all that is pure,
all that is lovely. It must still go on in the centuries to
come in added power, since
29. “Good, the more
Communicated, more abundant grows.”
And yet, do we not too sadly feel that the end has
come for us, who will not again, while we tarry here,
look on that kind face, or feel the clasp of that hand
that seemed strength itself? We rejoice in the joy of
her immortality—here and hereafter—but for us, here
and now, there is the suffering of this present time,
which is “not joyous, but grievous.”
How much she did! She worked till the last; till
those magnificent energies, which seemed
inexhaustible, were at length worn out.
She “died in harness,” and we must not grudge her
what she would have chosen. But yet, how we wish
it might have been otherwise! That she might have
rested in time, to have saved herself to be with us a
little longer, an inspiration and strength to all; “a
great moral force in the educational world;” an
example to all teachers, as well as to her own staff
and her own pupils; a joy to the friends who loved
her; and to her own nearest and dearest——? But
here we pause and are silent before her brother’s
words: “I cannot speak of what she was—and what
her memory will be—to her nearer relatives, and
especially to us, her brothers.”
30. The details of the service in Holy Trinity and the
concluding ceremony in the quiet churchyard at
Theydon Bois, near her cottage at Epping, on the
edge of the Forest, are given by eye-witnesses,
happy in being permitted to be there to see and hear
for themselves.
Never, it seemed to me then, could physical
disability have pressed more heavily than during that
week—from Christmas Eve to New Year’s Eve—when,
although no farther distant than St. Leonard’s, I had
to submit to be absent, while so many friends were
doing honour to her whom we all loved and
mourned.
The events of the three days, so full of emotion,
could not be better told than as they are given in the
“Memorials” compiled in the beginning of the year, by
her old pupils—afterwards colleagues—Miss Edith
Aitken, Mrs. W. K. Hill (Eleanor M. Childs), and Miss
Sara A. Burstall, who record the scenes at Holy
Trinity, at Theydon Bois, and on the first day of the
re-opening of the schools.
THROUGH THE GRAVE AND GATE OF DEATH.
“It is the will of God that even to the most vigorous and
faithful of His servants there shall come, sooner or later,
weakness and decay of strength. There is nothing more
simply sorrowful than this, and yet it is an integral part of the
31. providence of the world. To the most fortunate and gifted
life, full of great opportunities, to which the character and
personality were equal, to a life blessed with health and
power and love and success and a large measure of
happiness, even to such a life comes old age, with its train of
disappointment and feebleness. It is true that the waning of
a noble life is often marked by a sweetening and mellowing
of character, which is in itself a triumph and a glory; but still
the growing earthly feebleness cannot be forgotten, and it is
a sad thing to watch the face change, and to hear the voice
ever weaker and the step ever feebler, and to know that
strength is gone and will come back no more in this life. The
grasshopper has become a burden; the night is at hand.
“During the last year we have shared in such growing
sorrow, as we have watched the struggle of an eager and
hopeful spirit against increasing physical pain and weakness.
We have hoped against hope, for the spirit was still so
willing, but the foreboding was always there, and in the last
dark days of the old year the end came, irrevocably and, as
it seemed, almost suddenly. No more alternations, no more
struggles; all was over.
“What an oppression of loss and pain seemed to brood
over us as we waited through that dark winter’s morning in
the dim church full of mourning figures! Crowds of people
witnessed to the wide-reaching influence of the life of which
we were thinking. The solemn dignity of the occasion, as we
caught a glimpse of one and then of another who had come,
each from his or her important place and work, to take a part
in this last ceremony of respect, recalled the importance of
the life-work now over. Especially did the sight of such a
veteran of the struggle as Miss Emily Davies bring to mind
touching memories of the fight for an ideal waged in the
beginning against great odds. Such had been this our leader
—an important force in the world, a mind of originating
insight, who had modified her age for good. But now all was
32. over. We had had the privilege of being with her, but we
should have it no more. Our lives for the future were to be
poorer and smaller.
“The tolling bell seemed to beat out such thoughts as we
waited. But these more general regrets are changed to the
acuter stab of personal grief, as the coffin is carried in and
passes us close. It is to this that the loved presence has
come, and even this is for the last time. A hundred personal
details come back—her dress, her favourite colours, her
smile, the sound of her voice. Thus and thus we knew her—
and shall know her no more.
“‘The best is yet to be.’ We believe it, but we loved her as
she was.
“It is hard to control our voices, but we are still her army.
It behoves us to show that we can respond to the word of
command, and so we take our part in the service, and all
goes on in its appointed order to the end. The coffin is
carried out, and we disperse on our further journey, sad and
dreary, down to Theydon Bois. Our minds are filled by
thoughts of the past and of the future. To many of us the
best part of our lives is associated with her. To how many
has she not been a generous and inspiring friend, who
brought out all our best by her very belief in it? How are we
to go on without her? And how drearily ashamed we feel of
our worst, which we can never now amend before her.
“It pleased God to let our final farewell be very beautiful.
The churchyard at Theydon lies on the slope of a hill, and
the grave is at the northern side of the low, red brick,
country church. The short winter day was drawing to its
close already, and the western sky was glowing with glorious
red and gold. The procession was marshalled in the road
below, and the white-robed clergy came down to meet us
from out of the sunset light, as it seemed. Our hymns of rest
and triumph felt right and fitting then, as we thought of her
33. and not of ourselves. She had fought a good fight, and had
finished her course. The country fields lay bare about us, and
the branches of the trees, interlacing themselves between us
and the evening sky, were leafless. But everything was
touched with a most tender and beautiful light, as large, soft
snow-flakes floated gently down on the violets and white
spring flowers with which we covered her. And so we left
her.”
“‘The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and
there shall no torment touch them;
In the sight of the unwise they seemed to die, and their
departure is taken for misery,
And their going from us to be utter destruction. But they
are in peace,
For though they be punished in the sight of men, yet is
their hope full of immortality.’”
Edith Aitken.
THE FUNERAL SERVICE.
“On the last day of the old year Holy Trinity Church,
Kentish Town, was filled to overflowing with those who had
met to pay their last tribute to her who had passed away
from among us. The greater number of the mourners
consisted, as was natural, of past and present pupils of the
North London Collegiate and Camden Schools, but in addition
there were representatives of all branches of education in
the widest sense of the word. Among these we may mention
Rev. T. W. Sharpe (H.M. Chief Inspector of Schools),
Professor Hales (King’s College), Prebendary Whittington,
Rev. Brooke Lambert, Rev. H. L. Paget, General Moberly
34. (Vice-Chairman of the London School Board), Mr. Latham,
Q.C. (representing the Clothworkers’ Company), Mr. Alfred
Bevan (representing the Brewers’ Company), Mr. Elliott and
Mr. Danson (Governors), Mr. Storr (Merchant Taylors’ School),
Mr. Hinton (Haberdashers’ School, Hoxton), Dr. Evershed, Dr.
J. Collins, Mr. Percy Bunting, Mr. Courthope Bowen, Mr. W. C.
Bell (Treasurer of the Cambridge Training College), Miss
Agnes Ward, Miss Hadland, Mrs. W. Burbury (Governor), Miss
Prance (Governor), Miss Day (Greycoat School), Miss
Andrews (Maida Vale High School), Miss Armstrong (Dame
Alice Owen School), Miss Penrose (Bedford College), the
Misses Metcalfe (Hendon), Miss Huckwell (Leamington), Miss
Green (Blackburn) and Mrs. Mary Davies.
“Long before the time appointed for the service—10 a.m.—
every seat in the church, which is said to hold about two
thousand, was filled, while many people were standing in the
aisles. As the coffin was brought in at the south door, the
door by which Miss Buss had entered Sunday after Sunday
from the time the church was built, the whole congregation
rose to its feet, and remained standing until the mournful
procession reached the chancel. It was impossible, even
then, to realize that we should never again on earth see that
familiar face, never again hear the kindly words that so often
cheered and encouraged us in our darkest hours, making us
feel that, after all, life was worth living, and that each one of
us had her special work to do.
“All the arrangements had been most carefully planned
before. The chancel, with the seats behind, was reserved for
the family and immediate mourners, Governors of the
Schools and representatives sat in the front seats, teachers
and present pupils of the North London, all of whom carried
white flowers, in the body of the church. The west gallery
was appropriated to the Camden School, while the rest of
the gallery and the side aisles were filled with old pupils and
friends. The pall-bearers were:—
35. Professor Hill.
(Of University College, London.)
Dr. Garnett.
(Educational Adviser of the Technical Education Committee of
the London County Council.)
Mrs. Bryant.
(Vice-Mistress of the North London Collegiate School.)
Miss Lawford.
(Head-Mistress of the Camden School.)
Miss Hughes.
(Head of the Cambridge Training College.)
Miss Jones.
(Head-Mistress of Notting Hill High School and President of
the Head Mistresses’ Association.)
Miss Emily Davies.
(One of the Founders of Girton College.)
Miss Beale.
(Head of the Ladies’ College, Cheltenham.)
Dr. Wormell.
(Head-Master of the Central Foundation Schools, Cowper
Street, representing the College of Preceptors.)
Dr. Fitch.
(Member of the Senate of the University of London,
representing the Teachers’ Guild.)
“Mrs. Green was at the organ, and the girls’ choir led the
singing, which consisted of Psalm xxxix., the ‘Nunc Dimittis,’
36. and the hymns ‘The saints of God, their conflict passed,’
‘Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin,’ and ‘Now the
labourer’s task is o’er.’
“After the service, which was conducted by the Vicar (the
Rev. Dr. Cutts), Canon Browne, whose work in connection
with the Cambridge Local Examinations brought him for so
many years into such close contact with Miss Buss, delivered
an address from the chancel steps. He said the last rites
were often performed over those who were too young to
have shown promise; over those who had shown promise,
and were cut off, as it seemed, prematurely; over those who
had lived longer, and had had no aim, done no work in life;
over those who had had noble aims, and had been
disappointed, or who, having seen the fulfilment of their
aims, had outlived their friends, and died silent and alone.
How exactly the opposite of all this was the record of
Frances Mary Buss! She had great aims, she had seen a
noble work perfectly done, she was surrounded to the last by
affectionate friends. It was not too much to say that she was
one of the most prominent actors in that which had changed
the face of a large area of human life. There were many
present who had played a large part in it, but he could not
name the living. Miss Anne Clough and Miss Buss were, of
those who had passed away, those who had developed the
best of woman’s nature, the latent power and charm of that
intellect which was so subtle in its intuition and so swift in its
spring. Miss Buss had reduced the wear and tear of effort by
the improvement of method, and had changed that which
had been dull and flat and painful into brightness and
interest. Thousands of girls’ lives had been made happier,
hundreds of women were now doing congenial woman’s
work through her means. It was difficult to believe that it
had all grown from nothing in thirty years. It was not with
her as with many—that others had laboured, and she had
entered into their labours; she was herself the pioneer, and
37. herself had crowned the work. It had not been done from
policy; it had all come from love and sympathy, combined
with that practical intuition which always lays its finger on
the important point. Now her task was o’er, that faithful
labourer, under whom a wilderness had grown into a garden,
the garden had blossomed into flowers so fair, had borne
fruit so sweet. It was the last day of the year, the eve of a
New Year. The Church’s lessons brought before them that
beautiful chapter of the Revelation which described the new
heavens and the new earth. Miss Buss’ quiet and decided
religious character enabled them to enter without hesitation
on that branch of thought. Her religious character shone
naturally throughout her educational work. They read of the
garnishing of heaven with precious stones of various hues
and many names, not there because of this hue or that, of
this characteristic or the other, but because they were
precious stones. In all reverent faith they followed in
imagination the placing of their friend, now lost here, among
the precious stones in heaven, and they might pray that of
themselves it might be true that she was but gone before.
“The second part of the service was performed in the little
churchyard of Theydon Bois, near ‘Boscombe.’ The journey
seemed to be made doubly sad by the remembrance of the
many delightful holidays we had spent at ‘The Cottage,’ and
by all its associations; and yet we felt that we would rather
she were laid to rest there, in the open country, than in a
crowded London cemetery. ‘After life’s fitful fever she sleeps
well.’
“The day was piercingly cold, in spite of the bright
sunshine, and the ground was covered with snow. About six
hundred went down to Theydon Bois by a special train, and
the long procession was formed at the foot of the hill on
which the church stands. Mr. Garrod, Secretary of the
Teachers’ Guild, Mr. Foster Watson, Master of Method at
Aberystwith College, Mr. Pinches, Treasurer of the College of
38. Preceptors, and Mr. W. K. Hill, Head-Master of the Kentish
Town School, acted as marshals. At two o’clock, the hearse
and carriages with the chief mourners reached the spot, and
the long train of mourners, headed by the clergy, the Rev. C.
E. Campbell, Vicar of Theydon Bois, Canon Barker, and
Canon Browne, moved slowly up the hill. Immediately behind
the clergy came the girls’ choir, singing ‘How bright the
glorious spirits shine.’ The voices, subdued as they were,
owing to the great length of the procession, had—if one may
so express it—a wonderfully spiritual effect. The churchyard
was quite filled with the mourners, and after the actual
service was finished, Canon Barker delivered a short address
to those assembled round the open grave on the life-work
and lessons taught by Miss Buss, whose name, he said,
would be connected with the commencement of the higher
education of women for many years to come. He dwelt on
the zeal and ability displayed by the deceased in founding
the great school in Camden Town, and the most important
educational testimony she had given before the Schools
Commission. Miss Buss also established the Head-mistresses’
Association and the Teachers’ Guild, and her schools were
the models of those of the Girls’ Public Day School Company.
The effect and success of her work was seen at Girton and
Newnham Colleges, and at the London University, and he
mentioned the fact that at one time at least two-thirds of the
girls at Girton were from Miss Buss’ own school. The chief
point in regard to her character was her remarkable
personality and indomitable strength. Her simplicity and
singleness of heart were without a taint of personal
ambition. He dilated on her great power of assimilating new
ideas, and said the influence of her will was extraordinary.
Her name would live for years, and the women not only of
this country, but of every other, owed her a debt of gratitude
for the noble work she had accomplished. He touched upon
her deep religious character, manifested so clearly in her
quiet advice and consolation to the girls who came to her in
39. any worry or trouble, and finally he said it was a blessing to
any one to be able to see, as Miss Buss had done, her life’s
work crowned with success before she departed.
“In compliance with the expressed wish of the family,
comparatively few wreaths were sent, but these were quite
as many as could well be dealt with. In addition to those
from members of the family, the teachers of the North
London Collegiate School sent a wreath of laurel, the
Camden School teachers a wreath, Miss Ridley (a Governor
of the school from its early days) and Miss J. T. Ridley a
wreath, Myra Lodge an anchor of violets, while the pupils
festooned and decorated the hearse. Most of those present
carried flowers, which they threw into the ivy-lined grave.
“For the greater part of the service large flakes of snow
had been slowly falling. The day will ever remain in our
hearts. Though one of deep sadness, yet there was withal a
feeling of gratitude that we, too, had known her, and of pride
that we were Miss Buss’ girls.
“Eleanor M. Hill.”
It is impossible to do more than merely indicate
the feeling caused by the death of Frances Mary
Buss, as evidenced in the piles of letters addressed
to her family, and to Mrs. Bryant and members of the
staff, by leaders in the educational world, as well as
by pupils, past and present, and by friends from
every part of the globe. The extracts already given
will serve to represent this deep and widespread
sense of loss, and to show in how many hearts her
memory will live on.
40. Of outward and visible memorials there are several
still in progress. One only is as yet completed, a
window given by relatives and friends to Holy Trinity
Church, where, on October 3, a special dedicatory
service was held. The subject is St. Scholastica, the
devoted sister of St. Benedict who founded Monte
Cassino, the first monastery of the Western Church.
St. Scholastica is said to have helped largely in the
revival of religion and learning that marked the sixth
century. She became the Head of the first community
of nuns, and it is in this character that she is
represented in the upper part of the window. In the
lower part she is seated, with one of her young
novices at her knee, in keeping with her name, and
with the work of the great teacher thus
commemorated, whose likeness is plainly
recognizable in the features of the saint. Above the
head of the upper figure runs a scroll with the words,
“I know thy works, and charity, and service, and
faith” (Rev. ii. 19). The inscription below is, “In loving
memory of Frances Mary Buss, for forty-five years a
communicant of this Church.”
The memorial window in the Clothworkers’ Hall,
Sandall Road, which is to be the gift of the Company,
is still in progress. The design represents four typical
women from sacred history, all peculiarly appropriate
—
41. I. Deborah, “a mother in Israel” (Judg. v. 7).
II. Huldah, “the prophetess,” with whom “many
communed” (2 Kings xxii. 14).
III. Mary, who “chose the better part” (Luke x. 42).
IV. Phœbe, “a servant of the Church, and a succourer of
many” (Rom. xvi. 1).
A portrait is introduced into the design.
In the Camden School there is to be a marble
bust, the gift of the same generous donors, who
have already done so much to beautify the schools.
But the memorial which would most have pleased
her whose name it will bear is in the Travelling
Scholarships, to which the public subscriptions are to
be devoted. In keeping with the large-heartedness
which knew no bounds, the benefit of these
Scholarships will not be confined to the two schools
of which she was the founder. It is hoped that many
a worn and jaded teacher may thus derive from
foreign travel the rest and refreshment which so
often sent Miss Buss herself back to work with
renewed vigour; and it can scarcely be doubted that
in extent these Scholarships will prove worthy of one
who so largely gave to others.
The account given by Miss Burstall of the re-
opening of the school after the great change that
42. had come upon it is full of interest—
“The opening of school on the first day of term was a
strange, but inspiring and impressive, ceremony, which none
of those present are likely to forget. The dark ranks of the
girls, as they stood for prayers, the black dresses of the
teachers, the laurel wreath hung above our dear Founder’s
portrait, the empty great chair, which would never be filled
again by her we had seen there so often—all told the story
which the funeral hymns[21]
sung before and after prayers
reiterated. When the short, very short, service was
concluded, the Rev. A. J. Buss came forward, and first, on
behalf of the family, thanked the staff for their work (a very
labour of love indeed) in organizing the funeral
arrangements, and the girls for their singing on the sad
occasion. He then, as Clerk to the Governors, went on to say
that the Governors had been unable, owing to the shortness
of the time that had elapsed, to make any final arrangement,
but that they had asked Mrs. Bryant to take the post of
acting Head-mistress during the term.
“Mrs. Bryant, after saying a few words in response to Mr.
Buss, gave a short address, expressing (as she said) the
thoughts and memories that rose to the surface in trying to
realize the greatness of the leader who had passed from
among us. Sympathy, absolute devotion of self, extraordinary
energy of will, marvellous charity—these one thought of as
they had been shown year after year in counsel, in delight in
other’s pleasures, in carrying ideas into action, in patience
and help to inferior workers, in honour and appreciation to
talent, in raising the weak, in strengthening the strong.
“The thrill of emotion, of loyalty, of sorrow, and of hope,
which passed through the hearts of so many of us as she
spoke, is too personal, too sacred for expression. It was a
relief when music, that divine art which begins where words
43. end, came to speak regret and aspiration, as the solemn
chords of the Dead March in ‘Saul’ flowed from the organ.
Just at this moment, a little after 9.30 a.m., a winter
thunderstorm rolled up. The light grew fainter, the wind
sounded round the building; still the music pealed on as the
darkness gathered, rising stronger and fuller in its confidence
of triumph over death, when, just at the climax of the
melody, a flash of lightning blazed for an instant like an
answering fire from the heavenly world. It was a strange
coincidence, but it was not the first time that Nature had
seemed to sympathize with our grief and with our
consolation. The flowers and the winter sunshine of New
Year’s Eve, the softly-falling benediction of the snow in the
churchyard at Theydon—these had their meaning. So, too,
had the symbol of power, of energy, of light in darkness,
when the New Year began with its new work and its new, yet
old, inspiration.”
21. “The saints of God, their conflict passed,” and “Peace, perfect
peace.”
The music ceased, and all stood for a moment in
silence, till, as Miss Fawcett tells us—
“Mrs. Bryant said very quietly, ‘The classes will now pass to
their own rooms as usual!’ and, as we obeyed, the clouds
cleared away, and the place was soon flooded with brilliant
sunshine. ‘Le roi est mort: vive le roi!’ was the thought in all
minds. But our new Head had taken her stand on the old
order of things, and there is sweetness in our sadness.”
44. Owing to some technicalities which could not be
set aside, the post of Head-mistress was still not
filled officially either on the Foundation Day or Prize
Day, June 27, 1895, and these may therefore be
counted as the last days of the old régime, the
beloved Founder still holding supreme rule, through
the self-effacing loyalty with which her successor did
honour to the cherished memory.[22]
22. In a paper found in Miss Buss’ desk there is gratifying proof of
the satisfaction it would have given her to know of the choice
of her successor—
“I know Mrs. Bryant well, and think her the most competent
woman in the whole range of my acquaintance to take up my
work after me. She is bright, accomplished, energetic, and
earnest. She is amiable and loving, and, above all, has vital
force. She has, indeed, ‘a healthy mind in a healthy body.’
Pages of writing could not express more strongly my conviction
that she is the one woman who would and could carry on the
school in the same spirit as it is carried on now. Her fellow-
workers would also be loyal to her, and she would be
considerate about them.
(Signed) “Frances Mary Buss.
“Myra Lodge, Feb. 3, 1878.”
On Foundation Day (April 4)—henceforth to be
known as Founder’s Day—the sense of loss was
manifest in the black dresses of the staff, and in the
absence of the usual daffodils with which the Hall
had been gay in past times. The needlework was
shown as usual, but in place of the entertainment of
45. other years, there was an organ recital, followed by a
selection of sacred music, ending with the hymn, so
deeply impressive to all there, “The saints of God,
their conflict passed.”
On the Prize Day (June 27) there was a special
appropriateness in the fact that in Professor Jebb of
Cambridge, who occupied the chair, there should
have been so distinguished a representative of the
University which had been so much to one who had
laboured to open for others the way thither which
she could not herself follow.
In the presence of Lady Frederick Cavendish, who
gave the prizes on this last day, there was also a very
special fitness, not only as a very active member of
the Council of the Girls’ Public Day Schools Company
—a work made possible in the beginning by Miss
Buss’ success in her schools—but still more as the
daughter of Lord Lyttelton, one of the earliest friends
to the higher education of girls in general, and, in
particular, to the North London Collegiate and
Camden Schools for girls.
The day was further marked as the close of the
first great period of the School’s history by the
absence, not only of the Head herself, but of two of
her foremost helpers—the Bishop of Winchester and
Mr. Elliott—the one suffering from the illness so soon
46. to prove fatal, and the other from sudden
bereavement. So far back as 1879 Miss Buss, in
regretting the absence on the opening of the new
Hall of the Rev. Charles Lee, had thus written of
these three friends—
“For years past Mr. Lee was the one person who was
guide, philosopher, and friend; who gave up his time, and
who, with Mr. Elliott and Mr. Thorold, met constantly in
Camden Street, looked after Myra Lodge as well as 202,
worked up the law questions (Mr. Elliott has always given his
law knowledge to me and to the movement from the
beginning), and in fact worked hard when friends were few
and success was apparently hopeless.”
Mr. Lee’s removal from London deprived Miss Buss
of his valuable help, but for fifteen years longer Dr.
Thorold and Mr. Elliott were by her side in any time
of need, and their kind and genial speeches had
come to be an essential part of Prize Day rejoicing.
And so the old order changes once again. But, no
longer looking sadly backward, we may turn
hopefully to the future, as past and present are
united in the heartfelt tribute to the Founder with
which her successor takes up the work of the school.
“Last year I stood behind her in this place and read the
Prize Day report, which was her report, for her. To-day I am
47. proud to be her deputy once again and glad, for this day at
least, of the circumstances which have determined that as
yet no one speaks in her place as more than a deputy.
“The thought of our School’s past—the pride in it, the
regret for it as past—must be specially with us all to-day. For
the first time in forty-five years we meet together for our
yearly distribution of prizes without the gracious presence of
the Founder, a presence so familiar, that cannot be replaced.
A great teacher, a wise administrator, a strong and
sympathetic leader, she held a place almost as unique in the
educational world as the history of the schools she founded.
Nevertheless, the loss to us in this school is deepest, widest,
most intimate. To those who have been her colleagues, the
sense of it is ever present, in all the details of work, and
affecting all the relations of friendship.
“Noble work like hers remains in effect for all time, and
great inspirations are immortal, passing on from mind to
mind. The neighbourhood knows, and will long know, our
building as ‘Miss Buss’ School,’ and our traditions have
already lived too long to lose the stamp of the character that
moulded them. To guard them with care, to act on them with
zeal, will be the pleasure and duty of every North London
girl.
“It is, I believe, hardly necessary, but I would like, before
concluding, to remind the pupils of the thanks that are due
to the teachers for their never-failing interest and devotion to
work which, though always cheering, is sometimes hard. For
myself, I could not adequately express, but I hope they know
without words how much I have appreciated their loyal
support and their unity of spirit as they have worked
together with me during these last six months. The dark
cloud through which we have passed has caused us all as
colleagues to draw closer together, like children in a family
when the head has gone forth.”
48. We find the same spirit in the account given in the
School Magazine of Mrs. Bryant’s election, on July 9,
as Miss Burstall concludes—
“It was a quiet day, and a very simple ceremony. There
was something of the sweetness and ease of home in it all,
and indeed we felt as if we were a family rather than a
school; and, as in the beautiful and sacred life of home we
do not speak of our loyalty and devotion, but act on them as
principles so certain as to need no expression, so it was
here. The day was a very happy one. Every one went about
her work with a new impulse of earnestness, a new
assurance of peaceful continuity. For the rest, the future will
speak, and the past is witness that the future will be good.”
On Prize Day, that last day of the old which was
the first day of the new era, Lady Frederick
Cavendish in her address dwelt especially on the
faith and sympathy of the Founder as the secret of
the success of her schools, finding here, as
everywhere, the true source of all great and lasting
work in the faith that uplifts and the love that unites.
Then from the bright past the speaker looked
beyond the darkly shadowed present to a future full
of hope in the work to come. None present on that
day will forget the inspiration of the closing words of
this address—words doubly strong as quoted by one
who had come through a great darkness into the
49. light: one who will always stand out as witness that a
heart emptied of joy may yet become a full channel
of blessing—
“What though the brightness dim, the glory fade,
The splendour vanish?—Not of these is made
The holy trust that to your charge is given,
Children of God, inheritors of heaven!
• • • • • •
A sacred burden is the life ye bear,
Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly,
Stand up, and walk beneath it steadfastly,
Fall not for sorrow, falter not for sin,
But upward, onward, till the goal ye win.
God guide you, and God guard you all the way;
Children of light, set forth, set forth to-day!”
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