Robert Buchanan

Robert Buchanan
SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS LIFE HIS LIFE'S WORK AND HIS
LITERARY FRIENDSHIPS
By Harriett Jay
AUTHOR OF "THE QUEEN OF CONNAUGHT," "THE DARK
COLLEEN,"
"MADGE DUNRAVEN," ETC., ETC.
LONDON
T. FISHER UNWIN
PATERNOSTER SQUARE
1903
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INSCRIPTION
To the memory of Robert Buchanan,
who adopted me in my childhood, and
who, throughout his life, was to me the
kindest of fathers, the best of friends.
To him I owe all that I have and am;
and now that he is gone, it is my proud

pleasure to remember that, during his
last bitter hours of pain, I was able to
return to him, even if ever so slightly,
a little of the great tenderness and
devotion which he had always given to me.
HARRIETT JAY.
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PREFACE
"Nobody could tell the story of his life so well as Robert Buchanan
himself" (wrote Mr. T.P. O'Connor in M.A.P.), and I feel this statement
to be so absolutely true that I have endeavoured in compiling these
Memoirs, to allow the Poet as far as possible to speak for himself. With
this object in view I have been most careful to gather together every
scrap of reminiscence which he has published from time to time in
various newspapers and magazines. He knew himself better than any
man or woman could possibly know him, no matter how intimate their
acquaintance with him might be, and so I have endeavoured to allow
him to reveal himself to the world.
I suppose no one knew him better than I did, and yet even I was
debarred from the knowledge of some of his most sacred thoughts and
feelings until after he had been laid to rest. A careful study of his
diaries, and some of the private papers which he left behind him
revealed to me certain phases of his character of which I had had no
previous knowledge whatever.
The task, though an arduous one, has been to me a labour of love, and
if, after a perusal of this volume the heart of the reader is touched by
the struggles of a man who fought so bravely for the good of Humanity,
I shall have reaped my reward.

I wish to tender my best thanks to my brother and sister artists who
have so generously assisted me in my work. To Mr. G. R. Sims, Mr. R.
E. Francillon, Mr. Henry S. Salt, and Mr. Henry Murray, I am specially
indebted for certain pages of reminiscence which have been written for
this work, and which I feel sure will be of exceptional interest to the
public.
I have also to acknowledge the courtesy of Mr. Walter Scott for
permission to quote from a Preface written by Mr. Buchanan to the
Poems (Canterbury Edition) of the Hon. Roden Noel; of Mr. T. P.
O'Connor for permission to quote from "M.A.P."; of Mr. Philip Welby
for permission to quote from an article on Mr. Buchanan, written by Mr.
Henry Murray and issued by Mr. Welby in book form, under the title,
"Robert Buchanan and other Essays"; to Mr. William Freeland for
permission to quote from the Glasgow Evening Times. I am also
indebted to the Right Hon. W. E. H. Lecky, M.P., to Mr. Herbert
Spencer, Mr. Leslie Stephen, Mr. William Canton, Mr. Alexander
Strahan, Mr. Lionel Gowing, Mrs. Macanally, Dr. Harry Campbell, Dr.
Gorham, Dr. Stodart Walker, and the Rev. T. Varney and Miss Wylie
for permission to quote from letters, and I wish also to publicly
acknowledge my indebtedness to my dear friend, Miss Edith Francillon,
whose advice and help during the progress of this work have been of
the utmost value to me. Though her name does not appear in the
following pages, she was a constant visitor at our house, and was
intimately acquainted with and much esteemed by both the Poet and his
wife.
My own association with Mr. Buchanan has been of so exceptional a
character, that a word or so concerning the position which I held in his
household may not be out of place here. In the eye of the law I was his
sister-in-law, but that relationship could not possibly convey any idea
of the tie which bound us together. Briefly told, the story is as follows:
When my sister had been married some three or four years, and was
still childless, she resolved to adopt me. In doing this she was anxious
that any love which I might have to give should be given to herself and
to her husband, so I was taken from my home at a very tender age and
for many years was never allowed to revisit it. When at length I was

permitted to see my mother I remember looking at her very much as
little Paul Dombey looked at Miss Pipchin,