Walter Richard Old was one of Blavatsky's disciples who was part of her inner circle, and when she died in 1891 he wrote the following text as a posthumous tribute to her; I added subtitles in green.
TEACHER AND FRIEND
His first encounter with Blavatsky
My first acquaintance with Madame Blavatsky was in correspondence upon the subject of western occultism, during the year 1887.
I had often wished to see her, and had proposed to myself a way by which I could satisfy this desire, without in any way trespassing upon the slight acquaintance I had with the famous authoress [Blavatsly] of “Isis Unveiled”.
Some months passed, and, for reasons in which a reclusive disposition found some sort of consolation, I had not yet seen Madame Blavatsky. I was in daily correspondence with members of the Theosophical Society, and others interested in the special subjects of its investigation, and every day the fact of my not having seen the chief mover in the occult renaissance of the 19th century, was growing more and more a source of annoyance to me.
Quite unexpectedly, and to my intense satisfaction, the matter shaped itself. A letter from a London friend informed me that he had arranged for a few friends to meet at his house to discuss some of the problems in which we were mutually interested, and that if I would go up to town that evening, he would take me round to see “H.P.B.” on the morrow'.
I went —not to see my friends, nor to discuss problems, but— with the sole idea and purpose of seeing “H.P.B.” That evening it seemed that Time stood still for the special purpose of laughing at my impatience.
At last, however, the morning dawned and grew into a fine summer day, and towards noon I found myself with my friend at the house in Notting Hill, whence, he informed me, all the life of the Theosophical Society came.
Entered, we were shown into the drawing-room, at least I presumed that was its appellation, though I have never seen, nor ever expect to see, another room like it. No, I was mistaken, for a few seconds later, in response to a familiar greeting from my friend, H.P.B. rose from her desk, where she had been hidden from view by an unusually large arm-chair, and came forward to receive us.
The largest and brightest blue eyes I have ever seen opened widely upon me as she took my hand and gave me welcome. All the confusion I had secretly predicted for myself fled from me on her first words. I felt at home and at ease with H.P.B. at once.
“No, I will not be called ‘Madame’, not by my best friend, there was nothing said of that when I was christened, and if you please I will be simply H.P.B. Have a seat there; you smoke of course; I’ll make you a cigarette. E., you flapdoodle, (this to my friend), if you can find my tobacco box on the place there, I’ll mistake you for a gentleman.”
Then amid some laughter, as playful and buoyant as that of a child, she explained to me that E. and she were “old friends” and that she was very fond of him, but that he often “took advantage of her old age and innocence”, and amid some repartee the tobacco was produced, and H.P.B. made cigarettes for each of us.
Then we settled down to more serious talk, H.P.B. asking me about my studies in Theosophy and western occultism, and telling me of the success of the Theosophical movement, and how the people said this and that, and how the papers said much more, and that all were wrong because they did not understand, and had forgotten their history books and could not see where the movement was going to.
And then she asked me to tell her about myself, and gave me some practical advice, and soon afterwards I had taken leave of the most interesting person that I had ever seen.
Such were the circumstances which led to my personal acquaintance with my beloved and revered teacher and friend. I was most pleasurably impressed with all that I had heard and seen during my brief visit to the home of the Theosophists, and the impression I most vividly recollect of H.P.B. herself, was of her surpassing kindliness of manner, her fearless candour, her remarkable vivacity, and above all the enthusiasm with which she spoke of the work which lay before the Theosophical Society.
Walter goes to live with Blavatsky
When, many months later, it was suggested that I should go to live at the London Headquarters, then in Lansdowne Road, I was only too glad to do so; indeed I would have gone anywhere in order to have cotne more directly under the pure strong influence of H .P.B.’s example and teaching.
The impressions I had first formed of her character remained unchanged during all my intimate association with her, until her passing away. In all my difficulties, whether in study or work, I have ever found her a wise counsellor and a strong guide.
In sickness or sorrow she has always been kind, gentle, helpful and reassuring; in short, no one has ever filled my life in the double capacity of friend and teacher as she has done, and there is none to whom my gratitude so willingly flows.
Blavatsky worked immensely
I have said that H.P.B. was enthusiastic in her devotion to the cause which she had the honour of representing to the world. None who has had the privilege of working with H.P.B. could make any doubt upon this point.
One of her first letters to me, phrased in her peculiar foreign way, informed me that “the first volume of my book (The Secret Doctrine) is from the press, and I am up since five o’clock these days".
Her powers of endurance were equal in every respect to her great sense of devotion.
She was an incessant worker. I have seen her at her desk as early as six o’clock in the morning, and often in the coldest days of the winter months, several sheets had passed under her pen before she took breakfast.
Her application and tenacity were oftentimes a source of wonderment to. me, especially when I considered that a great part of her life had been spent in the restless excitement of travel and adventure.
Whatever may be the respective merits of the many Causes for which men and women have worked and died, certain it is that none have served them more fervently, persistently and painfully, than H.P.B. has served that of Theosophy.
Walter was with Blavatsky when she died
The night before her departure she was at her desk for a few minutes, effecting the last disposition of her papers; an editorial lay half completed upon her desk, when for the last time she laid her pen aside to go to her passing rest.
I was present at her departure, her right hand grew cold in mine. I will not attempt to describe my feelings when the consciousness of our loss, temporary though it may be, first dawned upon my mind.
These moments of exquisite pain, when self-compassion, and a joy for the rest that had come to one I loved, tore my being in twain with their wild contest, will ever remain among the sacred memories of my life.
The last words from her pen were in defence of the truth for which she had lived; her dying lips framed words of encouragement to those upon whom the chief work would fall by her departure.
His defense of Blavatsky
What though many in the outside world have denied to her that honesty of purpose which they would be the first to claim for themselves, what though her untiring efforts in the cause of the Truth were repaid by the slanders and scoffs and sneers of the superficial crowd, and though her friendship was betrayed by the wounded vanity of a few fading personalities.
Yet she was unchecked in her purpose, and beyond the belief and desire of all her opponents, successful in the task she had undertaken in the face of such enormous discouragement.
Those at least who lived with her, and best knew her, can tell how pure and unselfish was her whole nature, and how inspiring her teaching and her example. Nothing that I can say could add anything to the inherent beauty and purity of her character, and it is only with a feeling of grateful devotion and duty that I pen this feeble tribute to tha memory of my greatest friend.
(Lucifer, June 1891, p.302-4; In Memory of HPB, p.39-40)
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