1847-1858.
Mr. Hope's Engagement to Charlotte Lockhart--Memorial of Charlotte
Lockhart--Their Marriage--Mr. Lockhart's Letter to Mr. J. R. Hope on his
Conversion--Filial Piety of Mr. Hope--Conversion of Lord and Lady Henry
Kerr--Domestic Life at Abbotsford--Visit of Dr. Newman to Abbotsford in
1852--Birth of Mary Monica Hope-Scott--Bishop Grant on Early Education--Mr.
Lockhart's Home Correspondence--Death of Walter Lockhart Scott--Mr. Hope
takes the Name of Hope-Scott--Last Illness and Death of Mr. Lockhart--Death
of Lady Hope--Letter of Lord Dalhousie--Mr. Hope-Scott purchases a Highland
Estate--Death of Mrs. Hope-Scott and her Two Infants--Letters of Mr. Hope-
Scott, in his Affliction, to Dr. Newman and Mr. Gladstone--Verses in 1858--
Letter of Dr. Newman on receiving them.
This biography here reaches the point where the history of Mr. Hope's
marriage may fitly be placed before the reader. It was an event which, as I
have already hinted, may very probably have been connected, like his eager
pursuit of the Bar, with the break-down of his early ideas as to the Church
of England. Yet, viewed merely in its worldly aspects, the step was one
which could have caused no surprise, the time for it having fully arrived,
as he was now thirty-five, in a conspicuous position in society, and making
a splendid income. The lady of his choice was Charlotte Harriet Jane
Lockhart, daughter of John Gibson Lockhart, and granddaughter of Sir Walter
Scott. It was through Lady Davy that Mr. Hope had made Mr. Lockhart's
acquaintance; and thus what appeared a very meaningless episode in his
juvenile years materially affected his destiny in life. In a letter of July
23, 1847, to his sister, Lady Henry Kerr, he speaks as follows of the
important step in life he had decided upon, and of the character of his
betrothed:--
I have for a long time contemplated the possibility of marriage, and had
resolved that, all things considered, it might, under God's blessing, be
the best course which I could pursue. It was not, however, till I had made
acquaintance with Charlotte Lockhart that I was satisfied I should find a
person who in all respects would suit me. This a general knowledge of her
character (which is easily known) convinced me of, and I then proceeded
rapidly, and, as far as I can judge, am not mistaken in my choice.
She is not yet twenty, but has lived much alone; much also with people
older than herself, and people of high mental cultivation. She has also had
the discipline of depending on those habits of her father which are
inseparable from a literary and, in some degree, secluded life. In short,
she has had much to form her, and with great simplicity of character, and
unbounded cheerfulness, she combines far more thought than is usual at her
age. Having no mother and few connections, she is the more likely to become
entirely one of us; which I value, not only on my own account, but for the
sake of my mother, to whom I am sure she will be a very daughter.
I have said more to you about her than I have written to any one else, for
I distrust marriage puffs, and desire that people may judge for
themselves.... You may be assured that I look upon marriage in a very
serious light; and I pray God heartily that it may be to us, whether in joy
or sorrow, the means of mutual improvement, so that, when the account is
rendered, each may show some good work done for the other.
Yours affectionately,
JAMES R. HOPE.
A little expedition which ensued on the engagement was long remembered as
affording a very bright passage in their lives. With Lady Davy as kind
chaperon, Mr. Hope and his betrothed visited his brother-in-law and sister,
Lord and Lady Henry Kerr, at the Rectory of Dittisham, near Dartmouth, that
the future sisters might become acquainted. The exquisite beauty of the
scenery about the Dart, the splendour of the weather, and the charm of the
moment, altogether made this a time of happiness not to be forgotten by any
of those who shared in it. To the outline conveyed in Mr. Hope's letter I
shall add a few traits obtained from other sources, and thus complete, as
far as possible, the image they present. Charlotte Lockhart is described as
a very attractive person, with a graceful figure, a sweet and expressive
face, brown eyes of great brilliance, and a beautifully shaped head: the
chin indeed was heavy, but even this added to the interest of the face by
its striking resemblance to the same feature in her great ancestor, Sir
Walter Scott. A dearly cherished portrait of her at Abbotsford shows all
that sweetness we should expect, yet it is at the same time full of
character and decision. Her style of dress was marked by singular
simplicity; and, unless to please her husband, or when society required it,
she rarely wore ornaments. She was of a bright and cheerful nature, at
first sight extremely open, but with that reserve which so often shows
itself, on further acquaintance, in minds of unusual thoughtfulness and
depth. There was something especially interesting in her manner--a mixture
of shyness and diffidence with self-reliance and decisiveness, quite
peculiar to herself. Her look, 'brimful of everything,' seemed to win
sympathy and to command respect. Without marked accomplishments, unless
that of singing most sweetly, with a good taste and natural power that were
always evident, she had a passion for books, about which, however, she was
particularly silent, as she dreaded anything like pretensions to
literature. Her talent and quickness made everything easy to her, and she
seemed to get through all she had to do with great facility. But this was
much assisted by an extraordinary gift of order and method, which enabled
her, without consulting her watch, to fix the instant when the time had
arrived, for example, for prayers, so that her friends would say they felt
sure she carried a clock in her head. Punctual to a minute, she seemed
never to lose a moment. She governed herself by a rule of life, drawn up
for her by Bishop Grant (and afterwards by Cardinal Manning), memoranda of
which were found in her Prayer-book. Notwithstanding ill-health, she almost
always commenced her devotions, even if unable to rise early, at six in the
morning, and observed a perfect system in the round of her daily duties.
She was never idle, and nothing that might be called her recreations was
allowed to be decided by the wish of the moment, but was all settled
beforehand--the time to be allotted, for instance, to a carriage drive, or
to visiting. Mr. Hope-Scott himself said of her, that if she lay down on
the sofa in the afternoon to enjoy a few hours of Dante or Tasso, you might
be sure that every note had been answered, every account set down and
carefully backed up, every domestic matter thoroughly arranged. As Lady
Davy expressed it, 'she was a very busy little housewife, putting order
into every department.'
Of the usual lady's industry of needlework, plain or fancy, she got through
an amazing quantity; but she was also, in her early years, of great use to
her father, whose companion she had been in a literary life of great
loneliness, by relieving him of much of his correspondence. The same
diligent and endearing aid she afterwards rendered to her husband in all
his harassing overwork. Her great love and admiration for him, combined
with her own natural reserve, made her somewhat disinclined to go into
society; and in his compulsory absences, at which she was never heard to
murmur, she could be happy for weeks together, with her child, in a
comparatively solitary life at Abbotsford. Yet she was also quite able to
appreciate society, and is described by her friends as a delightful
companion, hardly ever talking of herself, and always charitable in talking
of others. Though placed in the state of riches, and having unlimited
permission from her husband to spend as much as she pleased, she was
notwithstanding never wasteful, but governed her household expenditure with
the prudence of an upright and well-regulated mind, taking the greatest
pains that all around her should have strict justice. She spent nothing
needlessly upon herself, but gave largely, and in the most self-denying
manner, for charitable purposes, especially the Orphanage under the sisters
at Norwood, which she appears to have constantly endeavoured to follow in
spirit, making her inner life, as far as possible, that of a religious. She
is remembered to have disposed of, for the sake of the Norwood Orphanage, a
precious ornament, given her by her husband, which had belonged to the
Empress Josephine; but a portion was reserved for a Lady altar in the
Church of St. Mary and St. Andrew, Galashiels. When in London, it was her
delight to visit St. George's Hospital, where her attendance was efficient
and regular, so long as she was able to render it.
Mr. Hope and Charlotte Lockhart were married at the parish church of
Marylebone on August 19, 1847, his brother-in-law, Lord Henry Kerr,
officiating; and after the wedding he took his bride to the Duke of
Buccleuch's house at Richmond, which had been lent to them for the
honeymoon. The autumn was spent at Rankeillour, and the winter at Lady
Hope's in Charles Street. In 1848 Mr. Hope rented Abbotsford from his
brother-in-law, Walter Lockhart Scott, and removed thither in August of
that year. On the death of the latter, in 1853, he became its possessor in
right of his wife, and for the remainder of his days made it his principal
residence.
Mr. Hope's conversion, as we have seen, took place before Easter in 1851.
To his wife, the surrender of united prayer (of all trials the severest on
both sides) was a sore distress: but the perception of truth is always
aided by consistency, at whatever sacrifice; she had read and thought much
on the controversy, and by Whitsuntide had followed her husband into the
True Fold. Mr. Lockhart regarded his son-in-law's conversion as a grief and
a humiliation; but, nevertheless, the nobleness of his nature, and the deep
regard he always felt for his virtues, prevailed without an effort. His
letter on that occasion does himself as much honour as it does to Mr. Hope.
_J. G. Lockhart, Esq. to J. R. Hope, Esq., Q.C._
S[ussex] P[lace]: April 8, 1851.
My dear Hope,--I thank you sincerely for your kind letter. I had clung to
the hope that you would not finally leave the Church of England; but am not
so presumptuous as to say a word more on that step as respects yourself,
who have not certainly assumed so heavy a responsibility without much study
and reflection. As concerns others, I am thoroughly aware that they may
count upon any mitigation which the purest intentions and the most generous
and tender feelings on your part can bring. And I trust that this, the only
part of your conduct that has given me pain, need not, now or ever, disturb
the confidence in which it has of late been a principal consolation to me
to live with my son-in-law.
Ever affectionately yours,
J. G. LOCKHART.
That incipient leaning to Catholicity which is so observable among the
literary men of the later Georgian era, especially of the school of Sir
Walter Scott, was probably not wanting in Mr. Lockhart. At Rome he seems to
have chiefly lived among Catholics; and quite in keeping with this view is
an anecdote I have heard, of his observing to Mr. Hope, when once at
Mayence they were watching the crowd streaming out of the cathedral, 'I
must say this looks very like reality.' This was in the course of a visit
they made to Germany in 1850, when Mrs. Hope was staying at Kreuznach for
her health. As for Lady Hope, her decidedly Protestant principles caused
her to feel profound distress when her son became a Catholic. She anxiously
sought to know what Roman Catholics really believed, and whether they
worshipped the Blessed Virgin or not.
Her son wrote her the following beautiful letter the Christmas Eve after
his conversion:--
_J. R. Hope, Esq., Q.C. to his Mother, the Hon. Lady Hope._
Abbotsford: Dec. 24, '51.
Dearest Mamma,--... Writing on Christmas Eve, I cannot forbear, dearest
mamma, from wishing you the blessings of this season, although I feel that
in doing so I must necessarily cause painful thoughts; but amongst these, I
trust, you will never admit any which imply that my love for you has
diminished, or that I profess a religion which does not enforce and cherish
the feelings of duty and affection which I owe to you. That I have often
been wanting in my conduct towards you I well know and sincerely regret;
but I can safely say that you have been throughout my life, to me, as you
are still, an object of love, respect, and gratitude such as I scarcely
have elsewhere in the world. Take then, dearest mamma, your son's Christmas
prayers. They are addressed to the God who gave you to me, and whom I thank
heartily for the gift; and if I believe that His will has been manifested
otherwise than you see it in some things, remember that this does not
extend to the precepts of love and charity, or alter one tittle of my
obligation and desire to be and to show myself to be
Your most affectionate Son,
JAMES R. HOPE.
In the course of 1853 Mr. Hope's brother-in-law and sister, Lord and Lady
Henry Kerr, were received into the Catholic Church. They ultimately settled
near Abbotsford, at Huntley-Burn, a name familiar to all who have read
Lockhart's 'Life of Scott,' which afforded more frequent opportunities for
the intimate and affectionate intercourse which existed between the
families. Mr. Hope's other immediate relatives, however unable they might
be to sympathise with his change, retained their love and admiration for
him undiminished. Writing from Luffness to Mr. Badeley (Jan. 21, 1852), he
says: 'Here there has been no controversy, it being agreed that we shall
not _talk_.... We meet everywhere so much kindness now, that we can
make no pretence to confessorship.' His life as a Catholic, now that he had
once found anchorage in the faith, passed in unbroken peace of mind, in
wonderful contrast to the storms of which we have been so long telling,
that swept over him before he reached this haven.
The years immediately succeeding Mr. Hope's marriage with Charlotte
Lockhart were probably the happiest of his life. He was then most buoyant,
most in health, most himself, and at the height of his intellectual powers.
His improving and practical hand was soon felt wherever he resided. He did
much for Rankeillour, but for Abbotsford wonders. The place had been
greatly neglected, the trees unthinned, and everything needing a
restoration. He added a new wing to the house, formed a terrace, and
constructed an ingenious arrangement of access by which the tourists might
be admitted to satisfy their curiosity, while some sort of protection was
afforded to the domestic privacy of the inmates. [Footnote: Particulars of
some of the improvements will be given later on. The new house at
Abbotsford was begun about 1855, and completed and furnished in 1857.] What
he did for the Church I shall tell by-and-by. [Footnote: See chapter xxvi.]
At both Rankeillour and Abbotsford Mr. Hope maintained a graceful
hospitality, in every way befitting his position. A letter which has been
communicated to me from a lady (now a nun) who was on a visit at Abbotsford
during the autumn and winter of 1854, gives a very pleasing and distinct
idea of the domestic life there during that brief period of happiness,
which, however (as we shall see presently), was already chequered by sorrow
destined in the Divine providence to become yet deeper and sadder. To this
letter I am indebted for the following particulars, which I have ventured
slightly to rearrange, yet keeping as closely as possible to the words of
the writer:--
The impression left by that most interesting and charming family could
never be effaced from my mind. It always seemed to me the most perfect type
of a really Christian household, such as I never saw in the world before or
since. A religious atmosphere pervaded the whole house, and not only the
guests, but the servants must, it seems to me, have felt its influence.
But, apart from that, there was so much genial hospitality, and every one
was made to feel so completely at his ease. Mr. Hope-Scott was the _beau
idéal_ of an English gentleman, and a model Catholic devoted to the
service of the Church, doing all the good that lay in his power, far and
near. There was a quiet dignity about him, and at the same time he was full
of gentle mirth, full of kindness and consideration for others; and for
every one with whom he came in contact, high and low, rich and poor, there
was a kind word or a generous act.
Among all the guests of this happy interval, [Footnote: Lord and Lady
Arundel and their family, Count Thun, Lady Davy, Lady Lothian, Lord
Traquair, Bishop Carruthers, Mr. Badeley, &c.] none were more joyfully
welcomed than Dr. Newman, who spent above five weeks at Abbotsford during
the winter of 1852-3, though a much longer visit had earnestly been wished
for by his kind host. It was a visit memorable in many ways, and at a
memorable time of the Cardinal's life, the year of the first Achilli trial
(this took place June 21-24), in which Mr. Hope, though not one of his
advocates, had rendered the most efficient help to the illustrious
defendant by his counsel and support. The Catholic university of Ireland,
as will be seen from the following letter, was also then preparing, for
which its first legislator had turned to Mr. Hope as among the most trusted
of his advisers.
_J. R. Hope, Esq., Q.C. to the Very Rev. Dr. Newman._
5 Calverly Terrace, Tunbridge Wells: October 23, '52.
Dear Newman,--I am much grieved by the account of your health which you
send. Do, I entreat you, take _rest_ at once--and by rest I
understand, and I suspect from Dr. Murray (?), total removal from work and
change of scene. We hope to go to Abbotsford early next month. We have a
chapel in the house, but no chaplain. You would confer on us the GREATEST
pleasure, and would at the same time secure your doctor's object, if you
would come down there and spend with us the three or four months which will
elapse before our return to town. You can say mass at your own hour,
observe your own ways in everything, and feel all the time, I hope,
perfectly at home. Do, pray, seriously think of this.
As to the University question which you put to me, I can give no reference
here; and I suspect my view is rather historical than in the way of strict
definition. In England public teaching in the schools preceded all the
colleges, and the latter provided the training which the university did not
undertake. In Scotland and in most places abroad there are no colleges in
our English sense, and public teaching is the essence of their systems.
Perhaps by looking into Athy Wood you may find passages to refer to, but I
would rather rest upon the general statement of their origin. There are
some derivations ascribed to the word _universitas_ as relating to
universal knowledge, but I doubt them. Wife and child well.
Yrs affly,
JAMES R. HOPE.
I subjoin a few lines from Dr. Newman's answer to this invitation (which at
first he was unable to accept):--
It would be a great pleasure to spend some time with you, and then I have
ever had the extremest sympathy for Walter Scott, that it would delight me
to see his place. When he was dying I was saying prayers (whatever they
were worth) for him continually, thinking of Keble's words, 'Think on the
minstrel as ye kneel.' (Dr. Newman to J. R. H. from Edgbaston, Birmingham,
Oct. 29, '52.)
Not less interesting is a letter in which he recalls this visit, years
after. Writing to Mr. Hope-Scott on Christmas Eve, 1857 [compare p. 131],
Dr. Newman says:--
I am glad to call to mind and commemorate by a letter the pleasant days I
passed in the North this time five years. Five years has a melancholy sound
to me now, for it is like a passing-bell, knolling away time. I hope it is
not wrong to say that the passage of time is now sad to me as well as
awful, because it brings before me how much I ought to have done, how much
I have to do, and how little time I have to do it in.... I wonder whether
Badeley is with you? What a strange thing life is! We see each other as
through the peep-holes of a show. When had I last a peep at him or you?
At Abbotsford one blessing was still wanting to the completion of domestic
happiness. It may be assumed that, after successes so brilliant, Mr. Hope
could not but desire to found a family which should continue, in his own
line, names so famous as those which he inherited and represented; but this
was long withheld. His first child, a boy, was still-born (1848); the next,
after an interval of four years (October 2, 1852, Feast of the Guardian
Angels), was a daughter, Mary Monica (now the Hon. Mrs. Maxwell-Scott),
named after a favourite saint of his; and several years more elapsed before
the birth of another son. A passage from one of Bishop Grant's letters to
Mr. Hope will be read with interest at this point, both for the
characteristic piety and for the intimacy of their friendship to which it
witnesses:--
_The Right Rev. Dr. Grant, Bishop of Southwark, to J. R. Hope, Esq.,
Q.C._
Dec. 10, 1852.
My dear Mr. Hope,--... As you will have more opportunities at Abbotsford
than you will perhaps find in London, it may be well to tell you that the
Italian nurses begin almost before children know how to use their eyes, to
make them notice prints or statues of our dear Mother and of the saints.
This helps their imagination, such as it is; and, after all, when we know
how some babes notice their parents and nurses, there is every reason why
we should accustom them to notice holy things. And, as they begin to talk,
it is right to follow the rule which St. Augustine says his mother had, of
constantly letting the sacred names drop, so that the great doctor says she
completely destroyed his relish for all oratory from which those sweet
names were absent.
May the blessings of Christmas fall abundantly on all at Abbotsford!
Yours very affectionately,
THOMAS GRANT.
Mr. Hope's domestic circle at this time included Mr. Lockhart, who, though
not yet a very old man, was verging towards the close of a literary life of
great toil. He was much with his son-in-law and daughter in Scotland and in
London, and they sometimes stayed with him in Sussex Place. At length he
had his books taken down to Abbotsford, where they still are, in a room
called the Lockhart Library. When absent, he wrote almost daily either to
his daughter or to Mr. Hope; and the collection of his letters, still
preserved, affords a most amusing record, sparkling with genial sarcasm, of
whatever was going on around him in London society. There is endless talk
and incident, floating in that society, which never finds its way into
print, or not till after the lapse of many years; and such is precisely the
material of this home correspondence of Mr. Lockhart's. It would be perhaps
difficult to name letters with which they can be accurately classed. I do
not forget Horace Walpole, and Swift's 'Journal to Stella.' But Lockhart's
wit was more playful and more natural. The great charm of his letters is,
that he thought, so far, of nothing but simply to relate what was likely to
amuse his daughter, whether the matter in itself was of the least
consequence or not. Such, however, were not the only topics of which he had
to tell. Mr. Lockhart, who, with his somewhat haughty self-possession,
might have been described, as the late Lord Aberdeen was, by one who knew
him well, as 'possessing a heart of fire in a form of ice,' had yet a
deeply felt but secret sorrow, with which even his resolution could hardly
cope. If I do not disguise that for years he had much to vex him in the
wild ways of a son whom he yet never ceased to love, it is only because
otherwise I could convey little idea of the unreserved manner in which that
lofty spirit could turn for consolation, in letter after letter, to Mr.
Hope, or to his daughter, never failing to find all the comfort with which
a wise head and a kind heart can reward a confidence so pathetic.
Mr. Hope's conduct, all through these trials, was indeed forbearing and
generous to such a degree as would make it a great example to all who have
to sustain crosses of that kind. But enough, perhaps, has been said on the
subject. In 1848 a severe illness of his brother-in-law at Norwich afforded
another of those occasions in which he displayed that zeal and helpfulness
in ministering to the sick, of which there are so many instances in his
life. Walter Lockhart Scott died at Versailles on January 10, 1853.
[Footnote: Walter Lockhart Scott and Charlotte (wife of Mr. Hope-Scott)
were the last survivors of the children of Mr. Lockhart and Sophia,
daughter of Sir Walter Scott. The eldest son, though very short-lived, is
well remembered as 'Hugh Littlejohn,' to whom the _Tales of my
Grandfather_ were dedicated.] Mr. Hope then assumed the name of Hope-
Scott, by which I shall henceforth speak of him. It was on the occasion of
her brother's death that Bishop Grant addressed the following beautiful
letter to Mrs. Hope-Scott:--
_The Right Rev. Dr. Grant, Bishop of Southwark, to Mrs. Hope-Scott_.
January 20 [1853].
My dear Mrs. Hope,--Although there is no artistic merit in the enclosed, I
hope you will allow me to send it on account of the meditation which it
suggests, how our dear Lord had the thought of His sufferings present to
His mind in early childhood--indeed, from the first moment of His earthly
existence. This thought may help to strengthen us when we reflect that He
has not given us the foretaste of our sorrow, but has allowed us to grow up
without any anticipation of distinct sorrow and suffering; and, for the
first years, without any thought of their coming at all. When affliction
comes at last in all its real bitterness, we can lighten it by uniting it
to His sorrow, and by asking Him to remember His promise of making it easy
to us.
I should not have troubled you so soon if it had not occurred to me that
the days which follow the announcement of a cause of grief are often more
trying than the commencement of them, and that during them the need of
consolation may be more felt.
I do not know why I should intrude my poor sympathy upon you, but when we
have shared in joy it seems ungrateful not to be willing to have a part in
sadness, and therefore I hope you will excuse me....
Yours very respectfully,
THOMAS GRANT.
Mr. Lockhart never got over the death of his last-remaining son. His health
began to fail; he went to Rome for change of climate; came back worse, and
soon after went down to his half-brother's at Milton-Lockhart. Thither Mr.
and Mrs. Hope-Scott went to see him, and entreated him to come to
Abbotsford. He at first decidedly refused, and his will was a strong one;
but some time after, when the house was full of Catholic guests, he
suddenly announced that he wished to go immediately to Abbotsford. He
arrived there, hardly able to get out of his carriage, and it was at once
perceived that he was a dying man. He desired to drive about and take leave
of various places, displaying, however, a sort of stoical fortitude, and
never making a direct allusion to what was impending. To save him fatigue,
it was important he should have his room near the library, but he shrank
from accepting the dining-room (where Sir Walter Scott had died), and it
required all Mr. Hope-Scott's peculiar tact and kindness to induce him to
establish himself in the breakfast-room close by. There he remained until
the end. Yet he would not suffer any one to nurse him, till, one night, he
fell down on the floor, and, after that, offered no further opposition.
Father Lockhart, a distant cousin, was now telegraphed for, from whom,
during Mr. Lockharts's stay in Rome, he had received much kind attention,
for which he was always grateful. He did not object to his kinsman's
presence, though a priest; and yielded also when asked to allow his
daughter to say a few prayers by his bedside. Mr. Hope-Scott, in the
meantime, was absent on business, but returned home one or two days before
the end, which came suddenly. He and Mrs. Hope-Scott were quickly called
in, and found Miss Lockhart (affectionately called in the family 'Cousin
Kate') reading the prayers for the dying. Mr. Lockhart died on November 25,
1854, and was buried at Dryburgh Abbey, beside his father-in-law Sir Walter
Scott. The insertion of these particulars, which are of personal interest
to many of my readers, will perhaps be justified by their close association
with the subject of this memoir.
After little more than a twelvemonth Mr. Hope-Scott had the sorrow to lose
his mother. Lady Hope died rather suddenly on December 1, 1855, in
consequence, it was thought, of injuries she had sustained from an
accidental fall in the Crystal Palace a few days before. In writing to
acquaint Mr. Gladstone with this sad event (December 4) [Footnote: Lady
Frances Hope also died within a week after, on December 6, 1855.] Mr. Hope-
Scott says:--
To you and Mrs. Gladstone, who knew her, I may confidently say that I
believe a kinder, more generous and self-denying nature has seldom existed.
To us, her children, her life has been one of overflowing affection and
care; but many, many besides her immediate relations have known her almost
as a mother, and will feel the closing of her house as if they had lost a
home.
The following letter, written from India on the same occasion, is in every
way deeply interesting:--
_The Marquis of Dalhousie to G. W. Hope, Esq._
Gov't House: Feb. 6, 1856.
It was very kind of you, my dear George, to think of me, far away, when
your heart must have been so sore. But, indeed, your kindness was not
thrown away, or your considerate thoughtfulness misplaced.
Even Jim and yourself have not grieved with more heartfelt sorrow for that
dear life that has been lost than I have in my banishment.
Thirty years have gone since your mother began to show to me the tenderness
of an _own_ mother. I loved her dearly--she loved me, and loved what I
loved. In the prospect of a return which has few charms for me the thought
of finding Lady Hope good, kind, gracious, motherly, as she always was for
me, was one of the few thoughts on which I dwelt, and to which I returned
with real pleasure, and now it is all gone; and you would think it
exaggerated if I said how deeply it depresses me to feel that it is so.
Give my love to Jim, and to your sister too. I see her boy goes to Madras.
I had hoped to see him here, if only for a week.
In three weeks I am deposed. I have no wish to see England; but
nevertheless I am, dear George,
Yours most sincerely,
DALHOUSIE.
The winter which followed Mr. Lockhart's death at Abbotsford was a mournful
one. Mrs. Hope-Scott had been deeply attached to her father. She had shared
his griefs, as we have seen. Her earlier years had been somewhat lonely;
her disposition, with all its reserve, was excessively sensitive and
excitable, and a change of scene had doubtless begun to be felt necessary,
when Mr. Hope-Scott bought a Highland estate, situated at Lochshiel, on the
west coast of Inverness-shire, north of Loch Sunart, and nearly opposite
Skye. The history of the purchase of this property, and of all that Mr.
Hope-Scott did for it as a Catholic proprietor, is very interesting and
curious, but involves so much detail, that I reserve most of it for a
future chapter. He built a residence there, Dorlin House, a massive,
comfortable mansion, practically of his own designing, abounding in long
corridors, to enable the ladies and children to have exercise under shelter
in the rainy Highland climate, and various little contrivances showing that
few things were too minute for his attention. Here, as everywhere, he used
a kindly and noble hospitality. Much of the charm of the place consisted in
its remoteness and solitude, which caused just sufficient difficulty in
obtaining supplies to afford matter of amusement. The post also came in and
out only three times a week, and the nearest doctor was twelve miles off.
All this, however, is now considerably changed by the greater vicinity of
railways. A few lines from a letter of Mr. Hope-Scott's to Dr. Newman,
dated 'Lochshiel, Strontian, N.B., September 25, 1856,' will give a better
notion of its surroundings than I can offer:--
We are here on the sea-shore, with wild rocks, lakes, and rivers near us,
an aboriginal Catholic population, a priest in the house, and a chapel
within 100 yards. We hope Badeley may turn up to-day, but are in doubt
whether he will be as happy here as in Paper Buildings. The first
necessaries of life sometimes threaten to fail us, and we have to lay in
stores as if we were going on a sea voyage. At this moment we are in doubt
about a cargo of flour from Glasgow, and our coal-ship has been long due.
What Badeley will say to oat-cakes and turf fires remains to be seen.
On Christmas Eve of the following year (1857) Dr. Newman writes to Mr.
Hope-Scott, in a letter I have already quoted from (p. 143):--
I was rejoiced to hear so good an account of your health, and of all your
party. I suppose you are full of plans about your new property and your
old. Your sister tells me you have got into your new wing at Abbotsford. As
for the faraway region of which I have not yet learned the name, I suppose
you are building there either a fortress against evil times, or a new town
and port for happy times. Have you yet found gold on your estate? for that
seems the fashion.
Mr. Hope-Scott did not indeed find gold at Dorlin, but he spent a great
deal over it, which he was sometimes tempted to regret; but, on the whole,
thought that the outlay had been devoted to legitimate objects, and that,
as an experiment, it had succeeded. He built two chapels on this property,
at Mingarry (Our Lady of the Angels) and at Glenuig (St. Agnes); and his
letters are full of unconscious proof how the interests of Catholicity were
always in his mind. A long wished-for event had lately thrown a bright
gleam of sunshine over the house. On June 2, 1857, Mrs. Hope-Scott gave
birth to a son and heir, Walter Michael, which was cause of rejoicing, not
only to the whole Scottish nation, but wherever the English language is
spoken, as promise of the continuance of the name and the line of
Scotland's greatest literary glory. And, to complete the circle of
happiness, on September 17 of the following year, 1858, was born also a
daughter, Margaret Anne. Three months after this had scarcely passed, when
the mother and both her infants were no more.
Mrs. Hope-Scott had never really recovered from her first confinement. In
the spring of 1858 she had had a severe attack of influenza, and
consumptive symptoms, though not called by that name, came on. Towards the
end of October arrangements had been made to take her to the Isle of Wight
for the winter, but she never got further on her journey than Edinburgh.
When she called, a day or two after her arrival there, on the Bishop, Dr.
Gillis, he said to himself, 'Ah! _you_ have been travelling by express
train!' Very soon after this, bronchitis set in, and rapidly became acute,
and the case was pronounced hopeless. To herself, indeed, it was perhaps
more or less sudden, though she had virtually made a retreat of preparation
during the preceding six months, and left everything in the most perfect
order at Abbotsford. She had said to 'Cousin Kate' (Miss Lockhart) that God
had been very merciful to her in sending her a lingering illness; yet, on
the last night, was heard to say,' Hard to part--Jim--Mamo [Footnote: Mamo:
an affectionate abbreviation for Mary Monica.]--God's will be done.' She
accepted her death as God's will. On being told of its approach, and after
receiving the last sacraments, she said, 'I have no fear now.' Bishop
Gillis gave her the last absolution, Fr. Noble, one of the Oblate Fathers
from Galashiels, assisting. Her husband's disposition never allowed him to
believe in misfortune till it had really come, and, almost up to the last
hour, he had failed to see what was plain to all other eyes; the parting,
therefore, with him and with her little daughter Mamo (who could scarcely
be torn from her) was sad beyond expression. The end came rapidly. She died
on Tuesday, October 26, and on December 3 her baby daughter, Margaret Anne;
and on December 11 the little boy, whose birth had caused such gladness.
All three were buried in the vault of St. Margaret's Convent, Edinburgh;
the mother on November 2 (All Souls' Day), her two children on December 10
and 17, 1858. Bishop Gillis spoke on November 2 and December 10, but his
addresses were unwritten; Dr. Grant, Bishop of Southwark, on December 17.
His address, and a beautiful one indeed it is, has fortunately been
preserved.
Of three short letters, in which Mr. Hope-Scott had told Dr. Newman of each
sorrow as it came, I transcribe the last:--
_J. R. Hope-Scott, Esq., Q.G. to the Very Rev. Dr. Newman._
14 Curzon St, London, W.:
Dec. 11, 1858.
Dear Father Newman,--My intention, for which you so kindly said mass, has
been fulfilled, for it was, as well as I could form it, that God should
deal with my child as would be most for His honour and its happiness, and
this afternoon He has answered my prayer by calling little Walter to
Himself.
I rely upon you to pray much for me. It may yet be that other sacrifices
will be required, and I may need more strength; but what I chiefly fear is
that I may not profit as I ought by that wonderful union of trial and
consolation which God has of late vouchsafed me.
Yours very affectionately,
JAMES R. HOPE-SCOTT.
The Very Rev. Dr. Newman.
On his wife's death Mr. Hope-Scott had written the following letter to Mr.
Gladstone:--
_J. R. Hope-Scott, Esq., Q.G. to the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, M.P._
Abbotsford: Nov. 3, 1858.
My dear Gladstone,--I was uneasy at not having written to you, and hoped
you would write--which you have done, and I thank you much for it. An
occasion like this passed by is a loss to friendship, but it was not, nor
is, easy for me to write to you. You will remember that the root of our
friendship, which I trust [was] the deepest, was fed by a common interest
in religion, and I cannot write to you of her whom it has pleased God to
take from me without reference to that Church whose doctrines and promises
she had embraced with a faith which made them the objects of sense to her;
whose teaching now moulded her mind and heart; whose spiritual blessings
surrounded and still surround her, and which has shed upon her death a
sweetness which makes me linger upon it more dearly than upon any part of
our united and happy life.
These things I could not pass over without ignoring the foundation of our
friendship; but still I feel that to mention them has something intrusive,
something which it may be painful for you to read, as though it required an
answer which you had rather not give. So I will say only one thing more,
and it is this: If ever, in the strife of politics and religious
controversy, you are tempted to think or speak hardly of that Church--if
she should appear to you arrogant, or exclusive, or formal, for my dear
Charlotte's sake and mine check that thought, if only for an instant, and
remember with what exceeding care and love she tends her children....
And now good-bye, my dear Gladstone. Forgive me every word which you had
rather I had not said. May God long preserve to you and your wife that
happiness which you now have in each other! and when it pleases Him that
either of you should have to mourn the other, may He be as merciful to you
as He has been to me!
Yours affectionately,
JAMES E. HOPE-SCOTT.
And now Mr. Hope-Scott was left alone in Abbotsford, with his only
surviving child, a very fragile and delicate flower too, such as to make a
father tremble while he kissed it. We have already seen [Footnote: See pp.
44-46, and 55, 56, ch. ii, in vol. i.] that he could resort sometimes to
poetry as that comfort for the over-burdened mind, in which Keble's theory
would place even the principal source of the poetical spirit. [Footnote:
Keble, _Praelectiones Academicae_, Oxon. 1844. Prael. i. t. i. p. 10.
] As every reader will sympathise with such expressions of feeling, I do
not hesitate to transcribe some touching verses which he wrote at this
season of sorrow, and which, with a few others, he had privately printed,
and given in his lifetime to two or three of his very closest friends.
These others will be found in the appendix. [Footnote: Appendix IV.]
_Sancta Mater, istud agas,
Crucifixi fige plagas,
Cordi meo validè._
CHRISTMAS, 1858.
My babes, why were you born,
Since in life's early morn
Death overtook you, and, before
I could half love you, you were mine no more?
Walter, my own bright boy,
Hailed as the hope and joy
Of those who told thy grandsire's fame,
And looking, loved thee, even for thy name;
And thou, my Margaret dear,
Come as if sent to cheer
A widowed heart, ye both have fled,
And, life scarce tasted, lie among the dead!
Then, oh! why were you born?
Was it to make forlorn
A father who had happier been
If your sweet infant smiles he ne'er had seen?
Was it for this you came?
Dare I for you to blame
The God who gave and took again,
As though my joy was sent but to increase my pain?
Oh no! of Christmas bells
The cheerful music tells
Why you were born, and why you died,
And for my doubting doth me gently chide.
The infant Christ, who lay
On Mary's breast to-day,
Was He not born for you to die,
And you to bear your Saviour company?
Then stay not by the grave,
My heart, but up, and crave
Leave to rejoice, and hear the song
Of infant Jesus and His happy throng.
That wondrous throng, on earth
So feeble from its birth,
Which little thought, and little knew,
Now hath both God and man within its view!
Yes, you were born to die;
Then shall I grudging sigh
Because to you are sooner given
The crown, the palm, the angel joy of heaven?
Rather, O Lord, bestow
On me the grace to bow,
Childlike, to Thee, and since above
Thou keep'st my treasures, there to keep my love.
It is scarcely necessary to say that one of the friends to whom Mr. Hope-
Scott sent these verses on his family losses of 1858 was Dr. Newman. The
note in which his friend acknowledged the precious gift witnesses to the
intimacy of their friendship in as striking a manner as any I have been
enabled to make use of:--
_The Very Rev. Dr. Newman to J. R. Hope-Scott, Esq., Q.G._
The Oratory, Birmingham: October 1, 1860.
My dear Hope-Scott,--I value extremely the present you have made me; first
of all for its own sake, as deepening, by the view which it gives me of
yourself, the affection and the reverence which I feel towards you.
And next I feel your kindness in thus letting me see your intimate
thoughts; and I rejoice to know that, in spite of our being so divided one
from another, as I certainly do not forget you, so you are not unmindful of
me.
The march of time is very solemn now--the year seems strewn with losses;
and to hear from you is like hearing the voice of a friend on a field of
battle.
I am surprised to find you in London now. For myself, I have not quitted
this place, or seen London, since last May year, when I was there for a few
hours, and called on Badeley.
If he is in town, say to him everything kind from me when you see him.
Ever yours affectionately,
JOHN H. NEWMAN,
Of the Oratory.
James B. Hope-Scott, Esq.