The High Altar of St. Peter's Church, Parkstone. Here, Olave Soames and Robert Baden-Powell were married on October 30, 1912. It is interesting to note that the Church of St.Mary's Branksea on the island of Brownsea is part of St. Peter's parish and so is attended often by groups of Guides and Scouts visiting Brownsea, the site of Scouting's first Camp.

CHAPTER 8
A Partnership Begins
Year: 1912

He didn^'t come. Instead, he went to London to his mother and immediately afterwards to Norway, taking his nephew Donald for a fishing holiday. He felt he had to honour a promise to take the boy on this trip — a promise made before he left England the previous January and before he met me. I wrote angrily in my diary on August 26th: ^'Jolly way for a lover?!?—to treat his loved one?!? Of course he is squashed with work and must take his nephew to camp as he promised to—but— oh dear!' My family knew that I had been counting the days to Robin^'s return. Now they witnessed my distress that he had gone away again. It made my father very angry indeed. He wrote to Robin.

I never did hear exactly what he put in the letter—but it worked.

My poor sweet received the letter in Norway in the middle of September. Immediately, he abandoned his holiday and telegraphed that he was coming to Grey Rigg. I learned later that he had been in a state of near despair when he learned that all berths were taken on the steamer from Christiania, but he managed to persuade the Captain to give him the First Officer^'s cabin. He arrived in London on September 14th and immediately wired to say that he was coming to Parkstone by train. I drove to the station in the brougham to meet him but he was not there; he had missed the train. A further telegram arrived. I met the next train from London. This time he was on it.

We reached Grey Rigg in time for dinner but, poor darling, in his frantic haste to reach me, he had forgotten his razor! It was amusing, really— the great B.-P. himself, the man who had given the watchword ^'Be Prepared^' to countless men and boys, being so flustered with love that he forgot his razor! Hardy, our butler, lent Robin his own razor, with the result that he cut himself shaving and had to appear at dinner with sticking-plaster on his chin !

I cannot remember anything about that dinner. I only know that afterwards, mother and I adjourned to the drawing-room leaving the two men together. Shortly afterwards, Father brought Robin in to us and said ^'Well, Olave, I suppose it^'s all right^' —and we were left alone.

The next day as the train carried him back to London, he wrote:

I cannot yet realise it!

My life was spread out green and placid like a quiet calm lake when bang comes a dynamite bomb out of an aeroplane, splosh, bang, spurt, and upsets the whole caboodle. And you^'re the bomb!

I can^'t be the same being who walked the deck of that ship in the North Sea during Thursday night, with a grip clutching his throat with a mighty fear—to find himself on Friday night in a dazed condition in the South of England—and on Saturday the happiest man in the whole of England—and on Sunday the happiest man in all the world! (and likely to remain so). Can it be me? .. .

Once the engagement was announced, the fuss began: ^'September 20th, Friday—It was a day—and now every paper is full of us—and I see myself everywhere and reporters and Kodaks pester us—it is a joke.^'

Mother, of course, had hysterics—just as she did when Auriol became engaged. Robin was too old; he had not enough money; he was not good enough, etc., etc. I think really that she was a bit jealous that I, the ugly duckling, ^'poor little Miss Olave^', was marrying a man who was a national hero and a world figure. However, she did come round and, in fact, provided my wedding-ring. When she married my father, she bought the wedding-ring because he was so absent-minded and would probably have forgotten all about getting one! Whether she thought Robin might be equally forgetful, I don^'t know but she gave him a ring for me.

Robin had written from Grey Rigg to prepare his mother for the shock of the announcement of our engagement. It was a letter typica^l of his Puckish sense of humour:

Dearest Mother,

I have been wondering what to give you as a birthday present, but I think I^'ve got one now that will please you (as I hope and believe) — and that is a daughter-in-law for you!

Olave Soames whom I met on board the Arcadian travelling with her father promises to make a very good one. I hope you will like her half as much as I do. She has only one fault (and both George and Frank told me that in getting a wife you must overlook a fault or two if she is on the whole what you want). Her fault is that she is young, but she has an old head on her shoulders and is clever and wise and very bright and cheery .. .

So I came here ... last night to dine and sleep, and to have a talk with her father . . . I must tell you all about it when I get back on Monday—and get your consent and good wishes.

He followed up the letter in person and wrote to tell me of the interview:

32 Prince^'s Gate, S.W.
17th Sept.

Bless you!

Why can^'t we cut out Tuesday 17th just as we did Mon. 26 March on my way across from America to Japan, 180° meridian. I don^'t quite see how I^'m going to exist 32 whole hours before I see you.

Oh Olave I can see you laughing now had you heard my poor dear old mother^'s little detective question about you. When I had said all (and I was as full and long-winded as if I had been talking about myself to little girls on the Arcadian) — she thought for a time —then suddenly asked very gently 'Is she—rather small?'

I was cruel enough to squirgle and to hum and haw till the dear old lady had begun to picture a slightly hunch-backed deformity before I told her the dear girl was as tall as I was. And I showed her the 'biscuit' and she was very pleased but said (as I did) it doesn't really show what you are like—and I practised the very slightest deception—will you forgive me dear?—! said 'Yes but photo­graphers generally know which way to take a person to show their best points.' And I've not even told her that I think Olave's isa most beautiful face and full of character. So she is at present delighted with the dominant idea that however plain you may be, though that point is skilfully treated by the photographer, you are very cheery and bright, a real playmate, and yet that under it all you can be invaluable to me as adviser and helper in my work—I warned her that she could not see it at first glance probably, but it's there. Of course, that appeals to her more than the absence of the hump—Oh you dear thing why aren't you here so that I can tell it all to you instead of writing it all in the midst of an appalling pile of work that awaits me.

Now I must shut up—I'm going to take my early morning walk via the spot where I first saw ^'The Girl and the Dog.^'

Oh tomorrow do be quick and come!

I went up to London on the ^'tomorrow^' to meet the 'dear old lady', my formidable future mother-in-law. My first impression of Henrietta Grace was that she was very sophisticated, cold and aloof—indeed, a real Victorian ^'grande dame^'. At first she was reserved—no doubt con­cerned that I was so young—but within a year she had melted com­pletely and had fully adopted me as a very welcome daughter. I also met Robin's sister Agnes on this occasion. She resented me but had to tolerate me. I am afraid there was never any love lost between us. She was a terrible snob and would have liked her brother to make a much better match. She was always fluffing round her mother when I was there, listening, snooping—like Tabaqui in The Jungle Book! Robin^'s mother would unbutton if ever we were alone, which happened occasionally, but would shut up whenever Agnes came in.

I can visualise the old lady now, sitting very upright in her armchair, 'receiving'. She would come downstairs and be established in her place by McPhail, her maid. Then, although she was eighty-eight when I first knew her, she would hold court at tea. It was the fashion to announce that one would be ^'At Home^' on certain days of the week. Anyone could call for tea and in Henrietta Grace^'s home one was always sure to meet famous and eminent people.

While I was in town, I went with Robin to Greenwich to inspect the ketch-yacht, The Mirror, given by the Daily Mirror to the newly-formed Sea Scouts. It was Saturday, September 21st and it was my first appearance in public with B.-P. We were cheered and cheered. It was all exciting and somewhat overwhelming.

Even a week later, the newspapers were still full of gossip about our engagement which had created such a sensation—fifty-five-year-old General to marry unknown girl of twenty-three! There were letters and telegrams galore. I wrote over two hundred letters of acknowledg­ment in that first week alone.

Inevitably, there was speculation as to whether marriage would bring an end to Robin's Scouting activities. One small Scout wrote:

I am dreadfully disappointed in you. I have often thought to myself 'how glad I am that the Chief Scout is not married, because if he was he could never do all these ripping things for boys.' And now you are going to do it. It is the last thing I should have expected of you. Of course, you won^'t be able to keep in with the Scouts the same as before, because your wife will want you, and everything will fall through. I think it is awfully selfish of you.

On the whole, however, the Movement accepted with pleasure the idea of a married Chief, once it realised that I was a friend and not an enemy.

... I couldn't help smiling (Robin wrote after a Scout Rally in Birmingham the day after our visit to the Sea Scouts in Greenwich) when I found that there was just a tiny bit of anxiety underlying their thoughts as to whether marriage was going to take me away from the Movement—but when I told them how you had already begun to help in it That day there was such a general gasp of relief and then a general wave of pleasure at the possibilities open under your help .. .

... You are going to make a huge difference in the Movement.

You probably don't realise yet how enormously it has depended on the personal touch. No amount of regulations or written stuff could enthuse the men and the lads to a fiftieth of the extent that the personal brotherhood does—and you and your smile will do a tremendous lot.

I never thought of it 6111 saw it already at work yesterday.

Scouting is now such an accepted part of the everyday scene that one tends to forget its impact sixty-odd years ago. The ^'experimental' camp on Brownsea Island had taken place in 1907 with only twenty- four boys. Scouting for Boys had been published in weekly parts at the beginning of 19o8, not with the idea of founding a new Youth Move­ment but merely to offer some fresh ideas to existing leaders of young people. It was boys themselves, really, who started Scouting as a Movement, not my husband. They read his book and were thrilled by it. They formed themselves into groups and called themselves ^'Patrols^' as he had described. They put on hats and scarves and shorts like the boy in the drawing on the cover of the book. They began to call themselves 'Boy Scouts', and yet more boys wrote to Robin asking how they could 'join'. It all happened so fast and with such enormous enthusiasm that he just had to organise things and that was how the Scout Association was formed. It fired the imagination of boys every-where to such an extent that within two years it had spread right round the world.

Little wonder, then, that the boys should be concerned whether there was a threat in this strange young woman their beloved Chief was to marry. I am so grateful that they accepted me, for I could not have fought them all for my Robin.

He wrote from Cheshire on September 24th:

 ... It was a wonderful demonstration not only by the boys but by the people. We motored for miles through them—thousands and thousands—and it was for you, darling, I believe they were out. One great black miner shouted ^'Luck to your missus^'—and great cheers followed it.

On September 30th, the Surrogate came to arrange about the special license for our wedding which we had decided should take place before the end of the year. I remember that Robin ^'proposed^' formally to me outside the door of the room just as we went in to sign all the documents. He slipped a ring on my finger—a simple little affair that an American Scout had given to him. Not for me the ^'lovely ring and a string of pearls worth £400^' that I had recorded when Auriol was engaged; Robin's simple band of metal with its embossed fleur-de-lys had no financial value but it was as precious as rubies in my sight.

We went down to Hampshire to a big Scout Rally and stayed with Sir Harry Crichton, the County Scout Commissioner. He was having a big house party for the occasion at his home, Netley Castle. After dinner, Sir Harry invited Robin and me to see his library and music room. However, no sooner had we followed him in than he left us alone, shutting the door behind him. Save for one precious day alone on Brownsea Island immediately after our engagement, we had had very little privacy since it had been announced. Now Robin seized this opportunity to clasp me in his arms.

I tried to push him away. 'Stop it,' I said. 'Suppose anyone came in! Whatever would they think!'

^'What does it matter,^' dismissed Robin, kissing me ardently. ^'We^'re engaged.^'

I still was not happy about it. ^'We mustn^'t,^' I said. ^'People will think we have just come into the library to spoon.^'

So I went across to the piano and started to play, just to indicate that we were not spooning. Whereat the door opened and Sir Harry^'s scandalised face appeared round it.

^'Really, you two!' he exclaimed in a disappointed voice. ^'I didn^'t leave you alone to do that!'

There were not many opportunities to be alone. There were relatives to visit so that I could be ^'approved^': ^'To Aylesbury to be inspected by his stern Aunt Con^' (Lady Smyth). ^'Inspected by Lady Flower^' (another aunt-in-law). There were Scout functions at which I had to be introduced—I made my first public performance alone and my maiden speech on October 12th when I presented a Shield to the Parkstone Scouts. Somehow, the shyness that had burdened me of recent years seemed to fall away under Robin^'s influence. There were other things to see to, besides Scout affairs. There was linen to buy for the flat we had taken in London at 35, Rutland Court. There was my Marriage Settlement to be arranged.

All the time there was the frustration of having just a few precious moments together and then we would be parted again—'Oh dear heart, I am longing for Wednesday. What a fearful time it is to wait ...' Inevitably, there was newspaper speculation about the wedding. It began with a simple statement: 'A large muster of Scouts will act as a guard of honour to the bride and bridegroom and hail them as they leave the church ...' Then the imagination of the journalists added further elaboration :

The first week in December has been fixed for the wedding of General Sir Robert Baden-Powell and Miss Olave Soames. The ceremony will be performed in the parish church at Lilliput, in Dorsetshire, where a large congregation, including many Army and Navy men, will assemble .. .

 Some papers took a speculative line :

 ... the point to be settled is what part the boys, who owe him allegiance will take in the coming important event of his marriage. That it will be a festival day goes without saying, but that some more than ordinarily exciting parade and demonstration of Scout loyalty will be arranged is generally expected.

 Other papers let their imagination run riot:

 A guard of honour of Boy Scouts will surround the bride^'s house and link up with the church, so that she may walk through a regular army of embryo soldiers. Afterwards a great ceremonial of Boy Scouts will be held at Lilliput, the bride and bridegroom inspecting the escort and accepting a wedding gift from them .. .

It was too much. Neither of us felt we could face such publicity on what was, for us, such a specially important day. So we decided to marry swiftly, quietly and secretly.

On Wednesday, October 30th, 1912, at 12.45 in the afternoon—just a year, almost to the day, after Auriol^'s wedding and a good six weeks before the date canvassed in the newspapers—Lieutenant-General Sir Robert Stephenson Smyth Baden-Powell, K.C.B. made me his bride. It was the same church as for Auriol's wedding: St. Peter^'s in Parkstone; the same vicar, Rev. the Hon. R. E. Adderley. But whereas Auriol wore white satin and was attended by six bridesmaids and a page, I wore a simple blue costume and was attended only by ^'Azzie^' — Robin^'s sister, Agnes. Where Auriol^'s service was fully choral, ours was brief and simple, with no music at all. Where Auriol had hundreds of guests, we had only my father and mother, Robin^'s brother, Major Baden-Powell, as best man; General Kekewich, C.B., the Defender of Kimberley and an old friend of both Robin and of my own parents; my brother-in-law Bob Davidson (for Auriol was still not well after the birth of her first child) and my dear friend who had foretold it all, Sie Bower.

The church bells did ring in honour of the wedding but not until after we were already on the train for London.

I wrote in my diary that day : ^'Is it really true, my darling Robin truly my very own—after these months of waiting and wondering. He is mine— and I am his for ever.'

CONTENTS

		Window on My Heart: The Autobiography of Lady Baden-Powell, G.B.E. as told to Mary Drewery, 1973.  Introduction and Contents. Reproduced by permission of Hodder and Stoughton Limited.
		Baden-Powell Family History. A series of links starting with the research of Robin Baden Clay, a grandson of Baden-Powell. These links are focused on the genealogy of the Powell family. The author is extremely grateful to Mr. Clay for sharing the results of his labors with the Scouting community. Links are provided to pages for three of B-P's brothers: Baden, Warington and Sir George Baden-Powell, to members of his extended family, and to the genealogy of the Smyth and Warington families.
		Robert Baden-Powell, Founder of the World Scout Movement, Chief Scout of the World. A Home Page for the Founder. Links Relating to Baden-Powell on the Pine Tree Web and elsewhere.

The Pine Tree Web Home Page: A Collection of the Author's Links

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Please write to: Lewis P. Orans

Copyright © Lewis P. Orans, 2004
Last Modified: 11:20 AM on April 25, 2004