The diary of Antonia Booth[1]
Antonia Booth was my great grandmother. She died in 1952, 5 years before I was born.
Diary entries are in black,
commentary is in blue
and footnotes are below in black.
Entries are captured in months.
This blog begins with the year 1898 even though the diaries start in 1894 because it is more straightforward to introduce the main characters in this year. I shall return to 1894 in a while.
If you think I’ve left something out please do let me know or if there is a factual error please tell me gently.
October 1898
Some more about Antonia’s fiancé, Malcolm Macnaghten.
Malcolm Macnaghten’s sisters were important to him. Here is his sister Helen’s response to the news of his engagement:
Runkerry Bushmills, Monday, Dearest Malcolm, I have just read your letter. Indeed I can’t tell you how glad I am that such happiness has come to you. I have always wanted you to know more about love and now I suppose no one in the world knows more. I have hardly any time to write before the post goes for I was out all the morning so I just send my love and blessing and indeed I only count you nearer and dearer for knowing such things. I always thought you unaffected by what you call my “doubts” and now I feel sure you are, dearest child, may it always be as it is now only better and better. Write again soon, so will I. Helen P.S. I should like someday to write to the lady with the beautiful name if you thought she would care to read the letter. P.P.S. How would it be if a few of us got up early one morning and went round to some quiet little church nearby! Yes, so you are giving up dance again. It reminds me of the way some people take the card[2]. I wonder what do you think about unreturned love now? Perhaps after all you have missed the greatest blessing. Tell me what Archie and Mr Mctaggart say?
Possibly it was Helen’s ‘doubts’ that stopped her from contemplating marriage herself.
Helen mentions ‘unreturned love’ and John McTaggart and he deserves further explanation.
‘John McTaggart Ellis McTaggart (Yes that was his full name) was Malcolm Macnaghten’s tutor in Moral Science at Cambridge. John McTaggart Ellis McTaggart was elected a Prize Fellow of Trinity College in 1891 on the basis of his dissertation on Hegel’s dialectic. In 1897 he was made a lecturer in Moral Sciences at Trinity College. Inspired by the work of F.H. Bradley, he published a pamphlet “The Further Determination of the Absolute” in 1893. There he argued that there are three stages to demonstrating the “idealist’s philosophy”. First, prove that the world is not exclusively matter, next prove that it is exclusively spiritual, and finally determine the nature of spirituality. Throughout his life, he defended the claim that ultimate reality consists of loving spirits. Love was central in McTaggart’s theory of the good. Love was not to be identified with benevolence, which McTaggart did not regard as an emotion but rather as a desire to do good for others. Furthermore, love was not to be identified with sympathy or sexual desire but might occasion both. Love was not invariably caused by pleasure and did not invariably cause pleasure. He rejected all rival accounts that looked to reduce love to pleasure, moral approbation or a fitting response to someone’s qualities. In addition, he thought that love revealed something about the structure of the universe, and that in absolute reality, we could all love each other. McTaggart did not just write about love. He is most famous for arguing that time is unreal.
Bertrand Russell, whose early work was deeply influenced by McTaggart, claimed that McTaggart was very shy:
… McTaggart was even shyer than I was. I heard a knock on my door one day… a very gentle knock. I said “come in” but nothing happened. I said “come in” louder. The door opened, and I saw McTaggart on the mat. He was already a president of the union, and about to become a fellow, and I was inspired and in awe on account of his metaphysical reputation, but he was too shy to come in, and I was too shy to ask him in. I cannot remember how many minutes this situation lasted, but somehow or other he was at last in the room. (Russell 1951, 88)
John McTaggart Ellis McTaggart’s preferred method of transportation was a tricycle, a fact which led a Cambridge paper to publish the following poem about him:
Philosopher, your head is all askew; your gait is not majestic in the least;
you ride three wheels, where other men ride two; Philosopher, you are a funny beast.
McTaggart was delighted by this poem.’ [3]
Malcolm, like John McTaggart Ellis McTaggart was a member of the Cambridge Apostles. The Apostles was a secret society of Cambridge University members that met to discuss and debate such topics as truth, God, and ethics. The group, also known as the Cambridge Conversazione Society, was founded in 1820 by George Tomlinson. Active (and usually undergraduate) members were known as Apostles, and former members such as graduates or fellows are referred to as Angels. Every few years, amid great secrecy, all the Angels were invited to dinner at a Cambridge college or London venue.
‘Despite its University foundations the group’s influence went well beyond Cambridge, and many eminent Victorians, Edwardians, and Georgians belonged to it. Since its foundation the society has included some of the most influential men in British public life: John Maynard Keynes, Leonard Woolf, Lytton Strachey and his brother James, GE Moore and Rupert Brooke were all Apostles. Many members of the Bloomsbury group were also Apostles: Keynes, Woolf and Lytton Strachey being the best known of them.’ Of course it was yet another society from which women were excluded …At its core the society is and was a discussion group. Early members met Saturday evenings in college rooms where Whales (sardines on toast) and coffee were served. The assigned speaker delivered his paper, following which the subject was opened for debate and members voted. It was a point of honour that the question voted on should bear only a tangential relationship to the matter debated.’
There is evidence that Malcolm also spoke up at the Apostles’ gatherings:
‘Roger Fry in his presidential speech of 1907 cast his remarks in an elaborate contrast between the world symbolised by the Star and Garter, where they were dining, and the Society of Apostles. Fry sharply criticised the practical philosophy of the ‘Angels’ (former members) and concluded with the thought that the existence of the Apostles is the great achievement of our age. Henry Norton who was Vice President, followed in a clear sincere voice. Samuel Butcher who was Tory MP for Cambridge University at the time spoke in turns in tones of ‘I have been called lately to spheres of higher uselessness’ a theme Frederick Pollock continued. Walton Leaf gave a jovial speech chaffing Jackson who was called for. G.M. Trevelyan barked out a grotesque challenge to Malcolm Macnaghten who rose up like a sleepwalker and in a shy spluttering amiable way, with the tips of his fingers on the table did very well in replying though he was barely audible.’
I do wish I knew what Malcolm had said.
Back to Antonia’s diary:
Southwark. With George to Gracedieu. I had to sit at dinner without my ring as I couldn’t get mother till afterwards. They were all so dear.
Antonia’s engagement ring was significant confirmation of Malcolm’s intentions.
Here is Whistler’s Little Girl in White examining her ring which generally signifies respectability for women in the nineteenth century. The model is Joanna Hiffernan, the artist’s mistress. Hiffernan displays a ring on her ring finger, even though the two were not married. Francis Prange, a childhood friend of Charles Booth and the art manager of the Grafton Gallery in London was in regular contact with Whistler throughout the 1890s and was involved in a number of sales of his works. Francis Prange was a member of the Society of Portrait Painters and invited Whistler to join in March 1892. Prange expressed in a letter to Whistler his desire that Whistler, with his ‘wisdom & wit’ should serve on the Committee too. Prange reverently referred to Whistler at this time as ‘mon cher maitre’. Charles Booth went to school with Francis Prange, and together they campaigned unsuccessfully in the Liberal interest in Liverpool in the General Election of 1865, and also when Prange stood (unsuccessfully) as an independent candidate shortly afterwards. His father, also called Francis, was a local politician, a merchant, an art collector, translator and bibliophile and an inventor of a number of industrial devices including ‘Improvements apparatus or appliances employed in the manufacture of tin plates.”. He and his father, who were of German extraction, were active members of the Society of Friends of Foreigners in Distress.’
THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS OF FOREIGNERS IN DISTRESS. He then called upon Mr. Prange junior to read the annual report. After stating that the society had completed its fifteenth year and inviting the public to resolutely refuse any relief to foreign unknown applicants, but to refer them to the society, the report went on to say that the number of applicants for relief had this year again increased and amounted to 1,826, of whom 1,444 were assisted, while 382 were refused as unworthy of aid. These latter were for the most part professional beggars, who made a living by roaming through the country…The arrivals from Russian Poland were still on the increase. There had been increase in applicants from the Netherlands and Italy; the same was the case regarding Africa and the East. The return of the steamer Helvetia, with 800 emigrants suffering from cholera, and of whom about one-half were foreigners, severely taxed the strength and means of the society. Liverpool Daily Post – Saturday 22 December 1866
The name of Mr. Prange, senior, has been associated with every philanthropic and generous movement that has taken place in Liverpool during the past quarter of a century; and, during the last few years, the son has, to great extent, taken his father’s place; but although he has worked silently and ostentatiously, his services to the community have been no less marked. His will and ability to do good have recently been recognised beyond the boundaries of Liverpool, and he has been appointed local honorary secretary to the National Education League, which will, no doubt, under his active direction, play an important part in the impending struggle between ignorance and intelligence; and if Mr. Prange carried no other recommendation to public favour, this alone would justify both Liberals and Conservatives in giving his candidature for the Council their hearty support. But it is not every day that young men of literary ability, business habits, broad philanthropy, and public spirit can be induced to give their time and energies to municipal duties. Mr. Prange possesses all these qualities in addition to what has been stated, and we hope to find his candidature successful through the suffrages of all political parties. Liverpool Daily Post – Saturday 23 October 1869
As a young man Charles Booth fell in love with Francis’s sister Antonia Prange. While Charles was travelling, Antonia Prange contracted ‘sudden consumption’ and died within three weeks, before Charles could reach her. The death of Antonia Prange affected Booth deeply and for the rest of his life.
In 1862, Just after Antonia Prange’s death, Charles Booth wrote about their relationship:
She (Antonia Prange) and her mother were away a good deal at Ilkley for her health, where I went to see them and compressed a great deal into a day and a half of the most intoxicating pleasure I ever had. The following years till last spring were very happy ones. Partly from prudence and partly from honour I determined while carrying confidence and friendship as far as possible, to let no word slip of love. I knew that at any rate she liked no one better and was content, always intending if I had to leave England to make sure before I left. In 1861 I was with them in Switzerland, spellbound for a week, and still I kept silence though we began to understand each other. Last winter before I left on my journey, I went a good deal farther and, still without any direct declaration managed that we should quite understand each other (at least I thought so). Then I summoned courage to tell Francis. His ready answer made all certain, “I knew she loved you but I have not found out that you loved her. I had seen only the dark side of the shield.“ The sympathy I’ve had from Tom and Emily has been very valuable but much more so from Alfred, who too has suffered himself. I suppose the power of sympathy is the chief thing gained from such experience. And from Francis as much, he has a great heart and never misunderstands either what I say or think. God bless him.
His wife, Mary Booth, wrote after his death that his feelings toward Antonia Prange ‘developed into ardent and adoring love. To her, with an intensity of feeling all his own, he gave his heart’, (M. Booth, 1918:7). My grandmother Mary described how fifty years after the death of Antonia Prange the first thing one saw upon entering Booth’s home was a large portrait of Antonia Prange. As you know Charles and Mary Booth’s first child, born in 1873, was a daughter who was named Antonia.[4]
And so Antonia Prange has endured as a symbol of unrequited love in our collective family memory and the portrait has endured as representation of Mary Booth’s forbearance in allowing it to have pride of place in her home.
October 1898 continued
Telegraphed for Malcolm to come. He arrived after tea with Mr Cornford[5] (!). Crompton and Bobby Trevelyan[6] came later. We told dear Crompton[7].
Long walks. Crompton and Bobby went away in the evening.
Malcolm went with Father and George by the early train. I wrote letters all day and went to London in the evening. We went over to the Pollocks together. They made us both quite happy by their dear warm sympathy and they were so delightfully pleased.
The Pollocks had introduced them.
Southwark. Malcolm came to breakfast and we hunted houses. Went to Madame Haas for a lesson and told her the news.
Hunted houses again I went to see Flora.[8]
Southwark. To Gracedieu with Malcolm. Charlie and Grace came. Wrote endless letters with Malcolm and went on long walks. Walks and talks. Imo’s birthday was held with no great eclat. M and I had games of squash rackets!
‘Squash rackets was first played at Harrow school. It is mentioned by Sir Douglas Straight who left the school in 1860, and went on to become a barrister, a judge, and finally the editor of the Pall Mall Gazette: One of his books is about a fictional boy, Hugh Russell at Harrow: A Sketch of School Life (1880), and it makes references to “squash”: “Another pastime in which he indulged a good deal was ‘squash-rackets.’
It should be remembered that Antonia and Malcolm had spent little time alone up until their engagement. The game of Squash Rackets would have been an opportunity for each to see their fiancé at close quarters and to learn more about their nature.
We went to London in the evening.
Father, George, Charlie and Grace left early. Mother and Imo and I went to London in the evening. Malcolm met me at St Pancras and came home with us.
[1] Antonia Macnaghten née Booth was born on 3 February 1873. She was the daughter of Rt. Hon. Charles Booth and Mary Catherine Macaulay.1 She marred Rt. hon. Sir Malcolm Martin Macnaghten. She had four children. She died on 18 January 1952 at the age of 78 leaving 53 diaries which are transcribed here.
[2] Promise not to drink alcohol.
[3] From https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/mctaggart/ -abridged and altered.
[4] https://etheses.lse.ac.uk/55/1/Bales_Early_innovations_in_social_research.pdf
[5] Francis Macdonald Cornford FBA was an English classical scholar and translator known for influential work on ancient philosophy. Frances Cornford, his wife, was a noted poet and the Booth family loved her poetry. She was the daughter of the botanist Francis Darwin and Ellen Crofts, born into the Darwin — Wedgwood family. Frances Cornford wrote:
To a lady seen from a train
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
O fat white woman whom nobody loves,
Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
When the grass is soft as the breast of doves
And shivering sweet to the touch?
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
And
On Rupert Brook
A young Apollo, golden-haired,
Stands dreaming on the verge of strife,
Magnificently unprepared
For the long littleness of life.
The Cornfords had 5 children including John (1915-1936), a poet and Communist who was killed in the Spanish Civil War.
[6] Robert Trevelyan was an English poet and translator. Described as a “rumpled, eccentric poet”, and sometimes considered a rather ineffectual person. He was a cousin of Mary Booth’s. ‘During the Second World War, Max Beerbohm developed a friendship with the poet and translator, Robert C. Trevelyan. Like his younger brother, the historian, G M Trevelyan, R C Trevelyan had been a member of the elite intellectual society, the Apostles, while at Cambridge. Consequently, he became a friend of members of the Bloomsbury Group, including E M Forster, with whom he travelled to India in 1912. Trevelyan had married the Dutch violinist, Elizabeth van der Hoeven, in 1900, and they settled at The Shiffolds, in Surrey, about four miles from Dorking. There they brought up their son, the artist, Julian Trevelyan, who was born in 1910.’ https://www.chrisbeetles.com/artwork/21329/scholar-poet-r-c-t-r-c-trevelyan-1872-1951
[7] Crompton Llewelyn Davies was a great friend and cousin of the Booths and a friend of Malcolm Macnaghten’s. Crompton Llewelyn Davies, uncle of the boys that inspired J.M. Barrie to write Peter Pan, was a lawyer and close confidant of fellow Welshman David Lloyd George, for whom he acted as election agent and early sponsor. He drafted a number of land-law bills for the British government and in 1908 prepared the bill that was to introduce the old-age pension in Britain which Charles Booth had been the chief advocate of. For this, he was made a Baron and took a seat in the House of Lords. Crompton Llewelyn Davies married Moya O’Connor, daughter of a former Irish MP in the House of Commons. Her family achieved a tragic notoriety when her mother, four siblings and nanny died of shellfish poisoning while on a picnic at the seaside. The event was sufficiently well known in Dublin to merit mention by Joyce in Ulysses. Adapted from https://www.eurekastreet.com.au/article/the-boy-who-would-not-grow-up
[8] Probably the wife of Major George Duff Baker (1860–1938) of the Royal Artillery; they lived at 38 Curzon Street.’ At Westminster Mr. Troutbeck held an inquest on the body of Mrs. Zela Flora Duff- Baker, lately living in Chesterfield-street, Mayfair, whose death occurred very suddenly. The deceased’s solicitor, said she was the wife of Col. G. Duff- Baker, R.A., who is now serving in Bermuda. She was about 37 or 38 years old, and for some time had been in indifferent health. — Christina Harrap, a servant in the deceased’s employ, said her mistress had been in the habit of taking sleeping draughts, but the witness had no suspicion that the deceased ever took an overdose. Dr. Trevor, of St. George’s Hospital said there was no evidence of unrecognisable poison, and he concluded that deceased’s death was natural. The jury returned a verdict of death from natural causes.’ Her mother was Anna Hills and her brothers Jack Hills (who married Stella Duckworth) and Eustace Hills.
Antonia and Mary 