Memoirs of James Robert Hope Scott, Volume 2 by Robert Ornsby

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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
ideal_ 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.

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