Hamilton Graeme; or, the Fourth Generation. By the author of 'Kind Words to my Cottage Friends.'

Front matter

0E, ?% JfjMtlj iferathm. OR, f% $wxrt\ #mrati0it BY THE AUTHOR OP "KIND WORDS TO MY COTTAGE FRIENDS." " Life is before ye. A sacred burthen is the life ye bear. Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly ; Stand up and walk under it steadfastly. Fail not for sorrow, falter not for sin ; Onwards and upwards, till the goal ye win." LONDON: WILLIAM MACINTOSH, 24, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 1864. TO MARIA LOUISA CHARLESWORTH, THE DEAR FRIEND WHO HAS ENCOURAGED THE PUBLICATION OF THIS VOLUME, IT IS BY SPECIAL PERMISSION, DEDICATED BY HER AFFECTIONATE FRIEND, THE AUTHOR. b

Preface

. The object of the following pages, is to illustrate that the daily-recurring spectacle of temporal misery en tailed on after generations by a progenitor's sin, is not, as too generally regarded, simply accidental, or even only a natural consequence, according to the course of this world's events, but has an additional cause, namely, the fulfilment of the warning given thousands of years ago from Sinai. Surely, though too frequently ignored, it is meant to form one of the weightiest motives to keep back a parent's hand from crime or grievous sin. It is the desire of the writer to show that such accomplishment may and does take place every day, and yet in no way hinders the full bestowal of loving-kindness, sunshine, and mercy in its highest sense, on the heir to a legacy of earthly trouble. The pelting shower may fall whilst the sun still sheds his gladdening rays, forming

PREFACE.

. the bright rainbow of hope which illumines the passing gloom, finally resulting in the full brilliancy of the unclouded sun, clearing all mists away, when such have performed their allotted work. The Author believes that the reader will find melancholy chased away from this record, by the continual manifestation throughout of "the bright light in the cloud." HAMILTON GEAEME.

Chapter I

" A springy motion in her gait, A rising step did indicate, Of pride and joy no common rate, That flushed her spirit." — Lamb. " How glad I am to see you, how well you are looking, Ethel. Since last we parted, you have indeed crossed the stream where chddhood and womanhood meet," was Eleanor Graeme's greeting to her young friend. " Yes, I consider that I have arrived at a mature age ; wrhether you will deem that I have reached years of discretion remains to be proved," was the gay-hearted reply. " I, also, am pleased to see you looking stronger than when I was here before." " You must be tired after your long journey, and require refreshment and rest, though your appearance does not denote it, Ethel." " Indeed, I am as fresh as a lark. I had a nap in the coach last night, when the moon hid her face and B ; refused to shine any longer upon us ; and this morning's delightful gallop over the hdls has nearly upset my newly acquired sobriety of manner, by which I evidently succeeded in convincing Colonel Graeme that I have thrown aside childish follies."

"Mamma was afraid you would be over-fatigued. She wished to have sent the carriage to Salkeld, but as papa, in his letter, positively ordered the saddle horses, I fancied the plan must have been mutuady agreed upon between you," said Eleanor. "Oh yes, I thought it was a capital idea of the Colonel's ; he remembered my fondness for equestrian exercise, and travelling in a riding-habit is now quite in vogue. After being boxed up in a coach day and night, to see the horses waiting, wTith honest old Jem looking the same as ever, was quite charming. When I sprang on Minnie's back, I assure you, I felt like a long-imprisoned bird escaping from its cage. As we flew on, over hill and glen, rushing through the fresh morning air, the hoar frost crystallizing every bough and each tiny blade of grass, the sensation was de licious, almost intoxicatingly so," said the young girl, as she removed her hat and freed the dark wavy tresses from their prison.

" Have you seen mamma yet ? " asked Eleanor, " if not, I must no longer detain you from her." " Ethel and I have met before," said Mrs. Graeme, who at this moment entered the apartment. " I am now come to fetch her away, that she may refresh herself with something more substantial than our sweet mountain breeze ; " and laying her hand affectionately on Ethel's shoulder, they left the room together. The two friends — for no tie of blood bound them together — differed almost as widely in natural disposition, as in outward appearance. Eleanor Graeme was reclining on the sofa, with a volume open by her side, which had been laid down on the entrance of her friend. Ethel Montague was a bright-looking creature of seventeen summers, rather above the middle height, and her slight figure never appeared to greater advantage than in her well-fitting cloth riding-habit.

The small hand which firmly grasped, yet playfully toyed with her whip, (if truth there be in the assertion that the hand betokens character) announced decision and resolution of more than ordinary degree, while the brdliant dark eyes and curve of the well-formed mouth contributed to strengthen this impression. Ethel was very lovable, generous, and affectionate, but there were some points in her character regretted by her friends. To give some insight into that character, and the circumstances which had, in a measure, formed it, we must take a brief review of her childhood. Her father died a few weeks after her birth. Whdst Ethel was still in the nursery, her mother married again, and accompanied her husband, Major Cadogan, to India, taking thither the little dark-eyed girl, then four years old.

A twelvemonth's residence proved the danger of keeping the child in that hot climate, and convinced Mrs. Cadogan that to save her life she must be sent back to Europe. Accordingly, consigned to the care of a trustworthy ayah, the little Ethel was shipped at Calcutta for England. There was no lack of playfellows or amusement on board the vessel, and the first grief was soon forgotten, of parting from mamma and papa, as she had learnt to call her stepfather, who gave his full share of help in petting and spoiling the brightb ; eyed infant houri. This work was continued by the passengers of the Indus ; the gentlemen flattering and laughing at the tiny tyrant's fits of passion, when pro voked or defied. The dl effects to herself or others, either never entered their minds, or were speeddy banished for the passing entertainment afforded by the child's exhibitions.

But there was one exception to the thoughtless throng, in the person of Mrs. Graeme, who, with her husband and two chddren, was also bound for England. Colonel Graeme had lately inherited a large property, and was returning home to take possession of it, having retired from the army. From the precarious state of Eleanor's health, she had occupied much of her mother's time during the early part of the voyage ; but being on deck one fine evening, when Ethel was, as usual, being alternately flattered and irritated for public amusement, Mrs. Graeme resolved to take the child under her protection, and endeavour to win its affections. In this she easily succeeded, for the young, warm, impulsive nature repaid her kindness with impetuous love, and henceforth she became the companion of Eleanor and Hamilton Graeme.

She delighted to plague, torment, and tyrannize over him, as he, good naturedly, acted the part of a willing slave to the little queen, who very charily bestowed her rewards for his many services, ever resenting most indignantly his attempts to pay himself by stealing a kiss. When fairly tired out with play she would beg to be allowed to sit by the side of Eleanor's little couch, promising to be " as quiet as the best little mouse." The sick girl's influence began then, and was ever after maintained though the fruits were slow in coming to perfection. Ethel would acknowledge her naughtiness, and listen patiently to her gentle reproof, when reproaches from others but increased her obstinacy and passion. Some slight improvement was manifesting itself when this beneficial companionship was for the time brought to a close, by the arrival of the vessel at Portsmouth.

Many were the regrets at the breaking up of pleasant coteries, but none more bitter than Ethel's, at parting from her kind friends. She was consigned to the care of Mr. Richard Montague, the younger brother of her father, who had in his will appointed him joint guardian wdth her mother. Into his family, consisting of several sons and daughters, Ethel was received, to share their schoolroom and governess's superintendence. Mrs. Montague did not treat the little stranger unkindly, but made no allowance for the humours of a spoilt only child, and when the ayah returned to India, her nursling gave herself up to inconsolable grief, and for many days would not be soothed or comforted. At last Edmund, the elder but one of her cousins, found a key to the child's heart, by talking and hearing of her ship friends ; promising that if she would forget her sorrow, and try to be happy, she should see the Graemes again.

When laughed at for her fits of anger, and ignorance of many common things with which her companions were better acquainted, Edmund was ever her champion. Ere long, distressed by seeing his little favourite so constantly in disgrace, he asked and obtained permission, joyfully granted by the governess, to bring Ethel through the troubles of spelling and reading, and all the distracting perplexities of the ; multiplication table. He and his hrothers attended a college, as they were residing in the immediate neigh bourhood of London ; and it was not without a sacrifice of the hours of recreation, that he thus devoted himself to the instruction of his young cousin. Her isolated position moved his compassion, for his sisters, both older, considered her beneath their attention, unless it were to patronize, which Ethel even then would not brook : thus, save from himself, she experienced nothing like affectionate treatment amongst her relatives.

In her tenth year Ethel lost her mother, and the sad tidings arriving when Edmund was away at Eton, he could, therefore, only testify his sympathy by letter. The feeling that there was henceforth no other home to look forward to, no fixed end to the residence amongst those for whom she felt but little love, weighed down her spirit to the ground. Soon after the blow fell, Mrs. Graeme, who had never lost sight of her little protege, called to see the orphan, and, finding that she looked ill and wretched, requested per mission to take her back to Monteith for change of air and scene. Once begun, yearly holidays there were established, for the governess assured Mrs. Montague that her troublesome pupil always returned from these visits more docile and willing to pursue her studies. These happy weeks became Ethel's star of hope ; giving her patience to endure more quietly the annoyances and want of sympathy in her guardian's family.

The old habit of confessing her misdoings to Eleanor, and listening to her gentle counsels, returned, and often led the high-spirited girl to strive to conquer the failings which gave her kind friend uneasiness and vexation. Eleanor Graeme possessed and cultivated the quality of sympathy — " A heart at leisure from itself, To soothe and sympathize." She was ever the ready listener to another's hopes or fears. Nothing was fully enjoyed by those who had the happy privilege of knowing her till she became a participator in the sunbeam, whilst the misfortune or grief must be heavy indeed where hope did not whisper that Eleanor would be able, either to chase the cloud away or point out its sdver lining, and show the best means of enduring bravely its passing gloom. She was very delicate, and looked almost pale by the side of the glowing freshness of her younger companion.

Ill health had been her lot from childhood, but so sweetly and patiently borne as to lessen greatly the affliction to those who loved her best. Seeing her mild, placid, and even happy, face, they would rejoice, and comfort themselves with the persuasion that her life was felt no weary burden, shut out though she was from so much which makes this world bright and joyful. Eleanor was in her twenty-first year, and appeared older from the inroads which days and nights of suffering had made on her delicate features ; yet there was much of pensive loveliness in the mild blue eyes which smiled a welcome to Ethel as she entered the invalid's boudoir, glowing with health and happiness, in the freshness of early youth. The young girl had not gone through the ordeal of a London season, though freed from the trammels of schoolroom life, as her aunt, Mrs. Richard Montague, had reasons of her own for preferring that her daughters should take every chance before the. ; bright Ethel made her debut.

Thus an invitation for her to spend Christmas at Monteith was hailed with almost equal satisfaction by aunt and niece. The only individual chagrined by this arrangement was Edmund Montague, who, on his return from the University, had perceived with delight his former pupd's marked im provement in all he desired. With him still lay the choice of books for her studious hours, and with deep interest he watched the increasing intellectuality of her mind added to the cultivation of womanly tastes and accomplishments. Many had been the happy evenings spent together whilst Mrs. Montague and her daughters were frequenting every ball and rout in pursuit of the hollow pleasures which slip from the grasp as soon as found, leaving emptiness and fatigue only behind. The young man was reading for the bar, and excused him self from the round of dissipation so distasteful to him on the plea of a necessity for hard study.

Nor was it a feigned or false one; yet numerous were the hours passed in reading to his cousin Ethel, at which times the literature chosen was certainly not of legal ten dency. The fair fingers would sometimes ply the busy needle, but oftener hold the pencil or brush, whilst the cadences of Tasso or of Milton fell upon her ear, or she listened to Shakespeare and to Byron. When Edmund learnt that the companion of these literary evenings was going away, he, sighing, said, "There is an end of our pleasant readings, but you will find other entertainment at Monteith, Ethel, whilst I shall be moping at home alone." The young girl laughingly told him the hours spent over his folios would advance him so many steps nearer greatness, and that he would appreciate her society all the better for a temporary absence.

He shook his head, and felt strongly inclined to give utterance to the wish that the wide ocean lay between his home and Monteith Park, but he said nothing. Sorry to leave him, but certainly no one else in Portman-square, Ethel travelled to Mon teith under the care of Colonel Graeme, who, having a short time previously been called to town on matters of business, had undertaken the escort of his young guest. He was a thorough man of the world, and a remarkably agreeable one when he was disposed to exert his powers of entertainment, which on this occasion he was in the humour to do. Nearly two years had elapsed since Ethel had seen Colonel Graeme, for he was absent from home during her last visit, and this period had sufficed to change her from the child to the woman. Instead of the pretty romp whom he remembered, pleading for an outside seat on the stage as " so much better fun," he now made the acquaintance of an accomplished girl of cultivated mind and sprightly mien, in whose simple elegance of manner, devoid of all affectation, he found an inexpressible charm.

The fresh, innocent beauty of his companion gave an additional zest to his efforts to render the journey a pleasant one. It is human nature to he agreeably impressed by those who bestow on us courtesy and marked attention, this deference being a delicate flattery and pleasing homage, acceptable to our self-esteem. Thus did Colonel Graeme's affability affect Ethel, creating in her mind a more cordial feeling towards him than she had formerly entertained. It was both reasonable and natural that under his present aspect she should like him better than in the b days past. Then Hamdton and herself had vied with each other in feats of daring and schemes of mischief, the one not always escaping his angry reproof, whilst the other too frequently incurred his heavy displeasure and severe punishment.

This treatment of her boy companion she used to resent indignantly, for, with a child's keen sense of justice and quick penetration, she early perceived that it was not the moral proportion of an offence, but the measure in which it affected, and the mood in wdiich it found, Colonel Graeme, that directed the penalty awarded. She consequently imbibed no kindly sentiments for him, and in her esteem he ranked very far below Mrs. Graeme and her children. His present pleasing manners towards herself did not change the estimate she had formed of his character as to moral worth, but made her willing to admit secretly that the strong dislike formerly felt might have at least in part taken its origin in a childish prejudice. Vanity was not one of Ethel's faults. She was too proud to condescend to be vain, yet had a shrewd sus picion that her undeniable personal attractions might have influenced the altered manners of her host, whose eye for beauty, and great admiration for its possessors, was an acknowledged fact.

Be that as it might, she resolved to hold the position once gained, and never permit him to relapse into the old arbitrary style which had so often on previous occasions given her dire offence, rousing her displeasure, and mortifying her juvenile dignity.

Chapter II

" Her sighs were not for him ; to her he was Even as a brother — but no more ; 'twas much, For brotherless she was, save in the name Her infant friendship had bestowed on him. It was a name Which pleased him and yet pleased him not. — Byron. The reader will probably arrive at the not unnatural conclusion, that Monteith Park was in Scottish land; however, this was not the case in reality. The precise locality will be left, for some reasons, undefined; suffice it to say, it was situate in a northern county of England, not far from the sea-coast. Its Scotch name was given by the first possessors of the property, when the younger branch of Graemes left their fatherland, at the time that James the Sixth of Scotland, and Pirst of England, crossed the border and bestowed these lands on Herbert Graeme.

Then was built the fine old mansion, which, in remembrance of early associations, and love for the country which gave its owner birth, received, together with its broad acres, the title of Monteith Park, and many generations of Graemes had passed away amidst its shades and ancestral trees. One aged oak, which spread its gigantic limbs o'er the velvet turf, if tradition speak true, was planted by the ; founder of this branch of the family. Its massive pro portions, enormous girth, and glorious boughs, each like a lesser tree, might almost lead the beholder to believe the tale. A few days after the arrival of the travellers at Monteith, Ethel entered her invalid friend's boudoir, exclaiming, " I am come with my work : you may smile; but, I assure you, my thimble has the distinguished honour of bonneting my finger quite as often as it has any reason to expect, considering my various avocations."

" I am glad to hear of it, Ethel ; but you know I uphold the use of your pencil quite as stedfastly, and hope you will introduce it to our morning tete-a-tete; the view from this window would make a pretty study, or, better still, an effective watercolour sketch," responded Eleanor. " So I was thinking before breakfast ; but the white frost must last, or the snow arrive, to retain the beauty of the winter scene, and that monarch of trees, 'the Graeme Oak,' must be the centre of the picture ; I see that it has not suffered from this autumn's storm; I should indeed grieve at any misfortune befalling the old patriarch, it would make me almost superstitious of coming evil to its owner," said Ethel. "As it cannot be expected to resist every winter's blast, nor to be absolved from the fate of all other mortal trees, I advise you to lose no time, and paint it whilst still standing in all its majesty," replied her friend.

"I do not feel in an artistic humour to-day, and mean to have a long chat whilst pretending to work, added to which I must place the heir of Monteith amidst its boughs, — Hamilton, instead of Charles in the oak; so I shall delay the attempt till the said gallant gentleman's arrival. By the bye, have you heard whether he has obtained his leave ? " asked Ethel. " No letter was received this morning, for the cross mail comes in too late for our daily delivery; but mamma expects that Jem, who is gone into the town, will bring one this afternoon. It will be a most pleasant surprise to have him here this Christmas, for he wrote only a short time ago to express his regret that his turn would not be due till March. I can only imagine that some brother officer has offered to ex change leave with him, perhaps having no home circle to tempt him away from the gaieties of the garrison town."

" I am so glad of the change, and only hope nothing will intervene to prevent this arrangement being carried out, for I have lately been so unfortunate in missing Hamilton during my visits. The last time I saw him was four years ago ; how proud he was of his regi mentals, and how well he looked in them. Do you remember, Eleanor, how we teased him about his vanity ? on entering the long drawing-room, I found him in front of one of the full-length mirrors, arranging the graceful hanging of his dirk and sword, in all the magnificent display of the Highlanders," and the young girl laughed heartily at her recollections. " Yes, now you recall it to my memory, I do, Ethel ; but it seems longer ago, surely it is five years this next spring, for Hamilton is nearly two-and-twenty, he came of age last February ; we were very sorry you could not ; be present to witness all our grand doings on that joyful occasion," observed Eleanor.

"I never was more disappointed in my life, and cried like a child ; that the measles must needs attack me then of all times in the world, was really past endurance. After all my gay anticipations, to be obliged to pass that day in a darkened room in bed, with physic and gruel, was enough to try the patience of a Job." "Which character has small resemblance to your own, Ethel; but the past is gone, and we will look forward to the pleasant future instead; you will find Hamilton considerably growD since he measured him self and his attractions in the drawing-room mirror," remarked his sister. That afternoon, on returning from a long ramble, Ethel found Mrs. Graeme with an open letter in her hand. At her young guest's entrance, she gave her another, which lay on the table, — it was in Edmund's handwriting ; Ethel received it with a look of pleasure, but before perusing the contents, exclaimed, " Have you heard from Hamilton, Mrs. Graeme, and is he coming ?

" " Yes, Ethel, we may expect him, he says, any time after the receipt of this letter; however, I do not suppose that he will be here before to-morrow, when he probably calculated that these tidings would arrive." Ethel had a very narrow escape of reviving Colonel Graeme's remembrances of her youthful wildness ; for, in her impatience to communicate the delightful intelli gence to Eleanor, she nearly rushed upon that gentle man, as he crossed from one of the side halls on his way to the billiard-room; but, fortunately, her quick ear caught the sound of strange voices, and she checked her impetuous course ere the host and a party of visitors emerged from the opposite corridor. Taking refuge in the library till they had swept by, she again made for the boudoir, and succeeded in gaining it without further impediment.

" Oh ! Eleanor, Hamilton has written, and will be here to-morrow, may be here even to-day ; I was in such a hurry to impart the glad news, that I nearly charged into a formidable company of moustachios, beards, &c, whom the gallant Colonel was leading on to the attack, but a timely retreat saved me, and when I heard the balls flying fast, though not around me, I am happy to say, I sallied forth again, and have, as you see, arrived in safety," exclaimed the merry girl. " I congratulate you on such a hair-breadth escape ; pray is that letter in your hand for me ? " inquired Eleanor. " Oh, no ! Mrs. Graeme, had, I fancy, not completed the perusal of the precious document : this is a letter from good, sober, old Edmund ; he is a capital fellow to write so often, with all his law reading," she replied.

" Perhaps he finds it a pleasant interruption to his studies ; is he wanting you home again ? I fancy he must miss the pleasant evenings you were telling me of," said Eleanor. " Of course he must, and ought to be thankful to have the privilege of my correspondence to solace his dull hours," replied Ethel ; " but I have not opened the present epistle yet, and will do so now with your per mission, though I do not expect to find therein any startling piece of news." ; " That is not needful to render letters from those we love acceptable, in my estimation, nor in yours either, I hope, or mine to you would, I fear, be very generally wanting in interest," remarked her friend. " Oh, certainly not ; I am only rather in a wild state of mind just now.

I would not alter Edmund's letters for the world; they are and always have been the pleasant expressions of all that is sensible, kind, and affectionate : he is a dear old fellow — the best possible apology for a brother that could have been found ; nay, I doubt if the real article could surpass him in any quality," replied Ethel, warmly ; and, added she, " I am not a little proud of his liking for me ; as, entre nous, I am quite certain he loves me much better than his other sisters, Anne and Maria, for, notwithstanding my wild nature and his graver tone of mind, we are better suited to each other in many ways, in tastes and pur suits ; besides which he has been my master, and I his pupil, and if it be true that mothers mostly love best the children who by illness or disposition have most tested the endurance of their affection, it will sufficiently account for Edmund's preference for me, as I have tried his patience and given his temper no small amount of trial in former years, and often now-a-days give him occasion for bestowing a good lecture, which, from his mouth, I am ready to put up with, for I know it is sure to be thoroughly deserved whenever it comes."

"With my scoldings and your cousin's, and your own good-natured reception of them, we ought to turn you out something very charming, or it will reflect sadly on your mentors ; however," said Eleanor, smiling, " I do not think it would be very difficult to account for his fondness for you, setting aside the last. ingredient you have mentioned," and, gazing at her youthful friend's bright beaming countenance, she more than half divined that the absent cousin's affection might be of a tenderer nature, though apparently un suspected by the fair girl at her side. " Eleanor, I often think it must be as true of friend ships as of marriages (if of either) that they are made iu heaven ; for what would have been my life but for the sunshine of the dear hearts at Monteith, not forgetting Edmund ? How otherwise is it to be explained that such a detestable little plague as I at all events was on board the Indus should have attracted the attention and gained the blessing of the love of dear Mrs. Graeme and your gentle self?

That Hamilton and I should like each other as playfellows was not so astonishing, as birds of a feather flock together, he being only a few degrees less mischievous than myself, though many better in all other respects." " Certainly in one sense you are not far wrong, Ethel, for nothing can be rightly attributed to chance ; as says the poet — ' The foreknown station of a rush is as fixed as the station of a king,' and much less can we doubt that such an influence as friendship is subject to the control of Him who rules the universe in all things both great and small." There was a pause ; then Ethel said, " Yes, it is that belief which has reconciled me oftener of late to being placed amongst such very disagreeable people. I suppose it is for my good, like a dose of physic, though certainly as peculiarly unpleasant," and as her friend ; laughingly shook her head, she added, " You may look incredulous, Eleanor, but indeed you can have no idea without experience; really, I could almost wish you could test the quality of my Montague mixture.