“You really are not so handsome as you promised to be,” Budworth continued. “I have long wished by conversation like this to do away what mischief the flattering character I gave of you may expose you to. Be merry and wise.”
Then, taking advantage of his seniority of twenty-three years, the good-natured traveller “gave her a hearty salute,” and bade her farewell. Unfortunately, he repeated his previous indiscretion by publishing another long account of the Buttermere Beauty in the Gentleman’s Magazine, and, like Wordsworth, who in similar manner paraded the charms of ‘little Barbara Lewthwaite’ he lived to regret what he had written.
Two years later, a handsome middle-aged gentleman of fine presence and gallant manners paid a visit to the Lake District, bearing the name of Alexander Augustus Hope (brother to the third Earl Hopetoun), who, after a successful military career, had represented the burgh of Dumfries, and now sat in Parliament as member for Linlithgowshire. An active, strong-limbed fellow, with courtly demeanour and an insinuating Irish brogue, the contrast between his thick black brows and his fair hair, between the patch of grey over his right temple and the fresh colour of his face, added to an appearance of singular attractiveness. These were the days of the dandies, when young Mr George Brummell was teaching the Prince of Wales how a gentleman should be attired; and Colonel Hope was distinguished by the neatness and simplicity of a well-dressed man of fashion.
The new-comer reached Keswick about the third week in July, travelling in his own carriage without ostentation, having hired horses and no servant. Soon after his arrival he went over to Buttermere, and remained there for two or three days. Towards the end of the month he visited Grassmere, where he became acquainted with a genial merchant from Liverpool, whose name was John Crump. Being a most entertaining companion—for he was a great traveller, had fought in the American War, and, as might be expected of one so gallant and handsome, had been engaged in numerous duels—Colonel Hope had the knack of fascinating all whom he met. With Mr Crump, who for some reason was not in favour with the young poet at Greta Hall, he struck up a great friendship during his three weeks’ stay at Grassmere, and a little later the merchant showed his appreciation by christening one of his children ‘Augustus Hope’ as a compliment to his new acquaintance.
About the end of the third week in August the member of Parliament, whose passion, we are told, was a rod and fly, left Grassmere, and, for the sake of the char-fishing, took up his quarters at the little inn at Buttermere. So pleased was he with the district, that he contemplated the purchase of an estate, and Mr Skelton, a neighbouring landowner, went with him to inspect a property near Loweswater. During his sojourn at the Char Inn he paid frequent visits to Keswick to meet his friend John Crump. Although wishing, for the sake of quiet and seclusion, to travel incognito, Colonel Hope seems to have been a gregarious person, and could not help extending the number of his acquaintances. At the ‘Queen’s Head’ Keswick, where his Liverpool friend was in the habit of stopping, he came across a kindred spirit in Colonel Nathaniel Montgomery Moore, who had represented the town of Strabane in the recently extinct Irish Parliament.
Since the two had much in common, a close intimacy ensued; but there was another reason for Colonel Hope’s friendly advances. A pretty young lady of fortune, to whom Mr Moore was guardian, was one of his party, and the new acquaintance began to pay her the most evident attention. Colonel Hope, in fact, always had been remarkable for his insinuating behaviour in the society of women, and since his arrival in the Lake District he had been concerned in an affair of gallantry with at least two local maidens far beneath him in station. However, this was a pardonable weakness, for the Prince himself, and his brothers of York and Clarence, did not disdain to stoop to conquer. But on the present occasion the gay Colonel apparently had fallen in love, and when, before very long, he asked the lady to be his wife, he was accepted.
It is not strange that a man of his power of fascination and handsome appearance should have met with success even on so short an acquaintance. The match seemed a most suitable one in every respect, and Mr Moore would have been well satisfied that his ward should be engaged to a man of Alexander Hope’s rank and position. Yet the lover did not hasten to take the guardian into his confidence. Remaining at the little inn on the shores of Buttermere, only occasionally he made the fourteen miles’ drive to visit his fiancée at Keswick. Colonel Moore, who could not remain blind to the flirtation, became anxious lest his ward should place herself in a false position. It was evident that the two behaved to each other as lovers, and the Irishman was impatient for the announcement of the betrothal. Still, the love affair ran a smooth course until the close of the third week in September; but as the time went on, and the engagement remained a secret, the suspicions of the lady’s guardian began to be aroused. Since it was apparent that his friend had committed himself, his duty was plain. There were only three explanations of his reticence. Colonel Hope was not the man he pretended to be, or he had quarrelled with his relatives, or else his passion was beginning to cool.
The first proposition already had been whispered among a few. Although his bonhomie and air of distinction had made him a great favourite with his inferiors, yet the fact that the reputed Colonel Hope was travelling without servants, and had selected a woman of fortune as his conquest, prejudiced critical minds. Coleridge, who was engaged in basting the succulent humour of the gentle Elia before a roasting fire, seems to have cast the eye of a sceptic upon the popular tourist from the day of his arrival. However, no open rupture took place between the Irishman and Alexander Hope, but towards the close of September they met less frequently.
On Friday, the 1st of October, Colonel Hope sent over a letter to his friend at Keswick, explaining that business called him to Scotland, and enclosing a draft for thirty pounds, drawn on Mr Crump of Liverpool, which he asked him to cash. Pleased, no doubt, at this mark of confidence, which may have appeared a favourable augury of his ward’s happiness, Colonel Moore at once obeyed the request, and forwarded ten pounds in addition, so that his friend might not be short of funds on his journey. On the next day, the sensation of a lifetime burst upon the people of Keswick. At noon, the landlord of the ‘Queen’s Head’ returning from the country, brought with him the great intelligence that the Hon. Colonel Hope had married the Beauty of Buttermere!
It was obvious to everyone—aye, even to the sceptic of Greta Hall—that the mystery was at an end. Alexander Hope was no impostor. Avarice had not led him to attempt the capture of a lady of fortune. Torn between love and honour, he had doubted whether to give his hand when his heart was disposed elsewhere, or to break his word. Thus, obeying the impulse of love, he had married a girl of the people. Native pride in the Beauty of Buttermere was strong in every breast, and the next mail conveyed to London the news of her great triumph.