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.