May Hamilton: an autobiography

Chapter I

'Tis a girl, Promises boys hereafter. KINO HENRY VIII. THE BIRTH. My heroine was born at Bath, that Queen of Silver Cities, beloved of Pielding and Richardson, and the scene of all Sir Charles Grandison's triumphs-— how much of sense lay in their mad and somewhat capricious liking, is not for me to determine ; enough that it was easier to raise than to pull down, and Bath, spite of the changes of fashion, and the desertion of the exquisites of the day, flourishes on like an evergreen, ever blooming, ever new, with its stately rows of houses and its glowing prospects, that like emblems of eternity, remain for ever the same. In this once favoured abode of former ages, beloved by the Gods, and certainly at one time, blest by the B beautUul of the earth, was she, one sunny morning in May, ushered in upon this mortal sphere, and though her birth was unannounced by cannon or gun, as is the lot of more favoured individuals, still, if nursery legends are to be believed, she was pronounced by both doctor and nurse, to be a beautiful little girl !

This announcement, I will frankly own, I believe to be made at the arrival of every fresh descendant of Adam, was uttered in somewhat muffled tones, lest they should disturb the poor mother, who, after having just escaped the jaws of death, was lying in a very precarious state in an adjoining room, so much so, that the nurse after a lengthened and careful examination of the new baby, to see that the limbs were perfect, her eyes to aU appearance clear, the head in a proper state to close, &c, dressed her with great care, and after a short confab with the doctor, who still held his post by the side of her apparently sinking mother, proceeded to the dining-room to announce to the honoured master of the household, that a daughter, and of course, a very beautiful one, was awaiting his pater nal benediction.

Mr. Hamilton, (such was the name of my heroine's father) who was pacing up and down the room like a caged lion, turned quickly round, as the noise of opening the door broke in upon his meditations, and his glance bespoke more of disappointment than otherwise, when he beheld Mrs. Wheeler's honoured person standing in the doorway. "Mrs. Wheeler — oh ! it is you, is it! I thought it was Mr. Jameson. How is my wife — Mrs. Hamilton — your mistress ?" " My mistress, Sir, is very bad — very bad indeed," said the nurse, with a solemn dignity ; to tell truth, she was somewhat nettled and huffed at the cavalier way in which Mr. Hamilton received her. " My poor mistress, Sir," repeated she, with emphasis, " is very bad, and Doctor Jameson says, if she is the least disturbed, he won't answer for her life.

But see, Sir, see, I have brought you the baby, and a beautiful little Miss it is," and saying this, she held out to Mr. Hamilton the bundle of cambric, lace, and flannel, that she carefully held in her arms. " She is, indeed, a beautiful little girl, nurse," said Mr. Hamilton, gazing upon the little stranger, in spite of his anxiety, with not a small share of paternal ad miration and pride, and imprinting at the same time a kiss of enormous magnitude upon its tiny forehead. " She is indeed a most beautiful baby, and I am much obliged to you, for the gift you have brought me," and true to his generous nature, he slipped a handsome gratuity into her hands. This timely gift and the unequivocal praise he bestowed upon the charms of her infantile charge, completely mollified Mrs. Wheeler; her brow unclouded, and to shew how much she respected him and his feelings, she entered into a long and particular account of his poor wife's sufferings, and wound up by distinctly declaring, that if her mistress b survived and got over this, it would be all owing to the wonderful care and skill of that angel of a man, Doctor Jameson, thus acting up to the spirit of doing, as she would be done by, preparing the master to behave as generously to the doctor as he had already done to the nurse !

Mr. Hamilton sighed, but said nothing. In fact, his thoughts at that moment were so fully occupied with the sense of his wife's danger, that her words fell unheeded on his ear, and he recommenced his patrol up and down the room, which Mrs. Wheeler perceiving, and knowing that in the pre-occupation of his thoughts he would not be likely to take any more notice of her nursling, that in fact he had forgotten the existence of the baby altogether, like a prudent general, drew off, thinking it both a waste of time and breath, to stop there any longer, and when (after repeated halts, and impressive adjurations, delivered to her charge, " to be a good girl — a pretty httle Miss — a sweet little dear — and to be still like a darling baby as she was," which, considering she could scarce open her eyes, and decidedly could neither use hand or foot, were I should say, somewhat useless admonitions,) she reached the room adjoining her mistress's, felt far more in her element, and there, surrounded by the whole ofthe home department, displayed her prize to their admiring gaze.

Need I tell you the admiration she excited from the red-faced cook, to the burly-looking footman, who, casting a very sentimental glance at the housemaid, who, by the bye was quite the belle of the establish ment, pronounced her to be a perfect beauty, a real wonder, a marvel of infant loveliness, and wound up by observing (eyeing most tenderly the aforesaid house maid all the while) what a happy man master was, to be the father of such a lovely babe ; and how blest he should feel, was he placed in a similar situation. To this pathetic appeal, Kate, the housemaid, heartily responded, adding it would be something like to stand in Missus's shoes, which honest declaration, by no means pleasing John, he hastily turned the conversation, by asking permission to kiss the baby, and in the midst of this operation, and while every one was ex pressing either his, or her willingness, to be father or mother to it, the bell rang in the adjoining room, and Mrs. Wheeler hurriedly dismissed her domestic levee.

No sooner was she quite alone, than looking the baby all over, to be sure it had sustained no damage before she encountered the searching eyes of the doctor, she once more carefully enveloped it head and all in its flannel, and proceeded into the next room. " Nurse," said a little bald-headed, grey-eyed, testy looking man, known throughout Bath, if not Europe, by the cognomen of Mr. George Jameson, and whom to the sorrow of my heroine's childhood, she had full cause to know was the doctor. " Nurse, where have you been, your mistress has moved several times, and I was fearful to disturb her till you returned, lest she should want you." " I could not get away from master till this blessed minute," returned the nurse, with a most innocent expression of countenance, and looking truthful enough to have sworn anybody's life away at Old Bailey.

" I never saw a man so moved — I never see'd the like of him, I never did. It was as much as I could do to prevent him smothering little Miss with his kisses — that's truth," said Mrs. Wheeler, and with an air of pious thankfulness, she proceeded to lay the baby in a little apology of a cradle, better known by the name of bassinet, which stood by the side of her mistress's bed. This done, she stepped up to the bedside and drawing aside the curtains, proceeded to ask its inmate how she felt. A voice that sounded something like a pitying angel's, its tones were so low and sweet, answered faintly, " better, nurse, thank you, I have had I think a little sleep. But where is my baby." " Oh ! bless its little heart, it be quite safe," returned the nurse. " Don't worry your dear heart about that just now ma'am, I has just rocked it off to sleep, and laid it down in its cradle," (vulgar old creature not to call it bassinet), not to speak of her fibs too, saying she had rocked it off to sleep indeed, when it was lying as wide awake as I am at this instant, and listening doubtless with all its ears in astonished surprise at her bare faced stories.

Soon the angel voice of the lady sounded again. " Go, nurse," she said, and a shght tincture of command mingled in her tones. " Go, teU my husband, Mr. Hamilton, that I wish to see him." The nurse obeyed in silence, casting a lingering look at the bassinet, (I scorn the word cradle) as she passed. Whether she expected to see the baby sitting bolt upright, I know not, but certain it is, that a disappointed expression crossed her face, as she peered into its recesses, and saw that aU was just as she left it. " That e'er baby is much too quiet to live," muttered, she to herself, as she rustled down stairs, and again knocked at the dining-room door. This time, however, Mr. Hamilton was not alone, neither did his face present the same troubled restless appearance it had done an hour before, for seated at a table, himself and the doctor, with some remarkably choice wine before them, and their glasses well fiUed, they looked particularly cheerful and comfortable.

"Please Sir, my Lady would be glad to see you," said Mrs. Wheeler dropping a curtsey, and, at the same time, casting an uncommonly gracious look at the spicy looking bottles before her. "My mistress has asked once or twice to see master," said she deprecatingly to the doctor, marking the wrathful expression of the little man's eye. " I thought, Sir, I had better come. She seemed to take on so." " Oh ! I will go this minute," said Mr. Hamilton rising, and noting the expression of the nurse's face, and what was the magnet of attraction, he added with his usual good nature. "Give Mrs. Wheeler some wine, Jameson, there's a good fellow, and let her drink long life and happiness to her new baby," and with that he disappeared, and left Mrs. Wheeler and the doctor to compare notes with each other, and wonder what the world would do, or what would become of mankind or womankind either, without their joint efforts to save and protect them ; and while they did so, Mr. Hamilton hurried up-stairs, and in less than a second stood by the bedside of his wife.

It needs not, gentle reader, for me to tell (even if I knew) what passed in that moment of fervent joy and thanksgiving— enough that Mr. Hamilton passionately loved his wife ; and, therefore, fully appreciated the dreadful trial she had just passed through. Five minutes of mutual endearments, broken sentences, and tearful, though blissful glances, made up of honest, generous, manly love on one side, \nd reiterated assur ances on the other, that, were it twice as much she would not murmur, filled up the sum of their conversation, and just at this moment, a feeble cry broke upon their ear. It was the baby! Yes, reader! the baby — who perhaps not choosing to be overlooked, seeing that without her important self, aU this love and gratulation would not have taken place, was thus early asserting her consequence.

" Oh ! there is baby !" cried Mrs. Hamilton in her choice and gentle accents. " Oh ! bring her here, Arthur," and as she spoke her husband approached the tiny cot, and with the ease of a giant handed over his youthful daughter to her mother — her gentle, loving mother. "And a mother beyond all price," was the one into whose maternal embrace Mr. Hamilton handed his in fant daughter. The moment she took her, and laid her on her gentle breast, her wounded vanity being, I suppose, appeased, she lay quiet and peaceful enough. "Dear little thing," said Mrs. Hamilton, at the same time holding her up for her honoured father's inspection, " dear, lovely little baby ; what a treasure she will be to us ! — but, Arthur, what shall we call her ?" " Call her," said Mr. Hamilton, " call her, my dear, why Lucy to be sure !"

" Oh, no ! not Lucy," responded his wife, with something of a shudder, " oh, no ! not Lucy ; we have laid three little Lucys already in the grave, and," she said, dropping her voice to a faint whisper, " it would break my heart to lose this one." " Oh ! then not Lucy by any means," said her husband, looking uncommonly startled aud terrified, for to teU truth, I suspect he would rather have seen the whole infantile population of little women, which Bath at that moment contained, swept into the Irish Channel, than that one wish of his adored wife's should be thwarted. " Shall we caU her Arriminta ?'' resumed he, after a considerable pause, during which time, Mrs. HamUton had been pressing Miss Baby very close to her maternal bosom, and the aforesaid young lady had been opening her mouth in a way peculiar to babies, who have not been favoured with a very abundant breakfast.

" Arriminta !" ejaculated his wife, in a tone of very sincere alarm, " good gracious, no ! Why, Arthur ! what are you thinking about ? such a frightful name — but I wUl tell you what we will call her— we will call her May. To-day is the first of the month, and she certainly is a May blossom." To this proposition of his wife's Mr. Hamilton im mediately assented. Miss Hamilton might have been called May or December for what he cared, so long as her mother was satisfied, it was equally the same to him. But just as he was expressing his approval of his wife's choice, the voice of Mrs. Wheeler sounded close be hind him. " Mercy on us, Sir," she exclaimed, in no very gentle tones, " how can you think of talking to my lady in this way. I will not answer for the consequences if you stop here another minute."

And with that exordium, she not over gently propeUed her respected master towards the door, but assisting his exit in a very material manner, he speedily found himself on the out side, when she very composedly closed it behind him ; then returning to her mistress, who had fallen back in somewhat an exhausted state, she settled her for the night, and releasing the baby -from the bed-clothes, beneath the pressure of which it was almost smothered (a hint by the bye, whicli it would be well for all mothers to take heed of) she once more laid it upon her lap, and having settled herself in a very respectable easy chair, capable of sustaining her weight, and that of her charge, she commenced rocking it off to sleep in real earnest : during which operation I shall take the Uberty of giving to the reader a short account of the illustrious house, of which my heroine seem destined to be the pride and or nament.

Chapter II

Looking backward on the past, ilany varied scenes we view, Some whose sweetness long will last, Others sad and cheerless too. ANONYMOUS. THE RETROSPECT. May Hamilton's family then, gentle reader, was of very ancient origin, dating back to the time when Wil liam the fiery Norman set might against right, and laid Saxon Harold in the dust, her father's ancestors having originally accompanied the fierce descendant of Rolla to this country, and, in a tilt or tournament, received the name of De Rohan, a name which, its descendants proudly boasted, never yet had bowed or quailed be neath the blow of an adversary. Thomas De Rohan had followed Richard the Lion-hearted to the Holy Land, and performed prodigies of valour in defence of the Christian standard. Walter De Rohan had stood close to the tyrant John, and helped to force him to sign the dearly-prized, highly-valued, Magna Charta.

Arthur, the namesake of my heroine's father, had backed Henry of Richmond on Bosworth Eield ; and the last of this race of heroes, surnamed Peter, lost all his worldly possessions in the righteous cause of the ill-fated and martyred Charles the First, ere the high-souled monarch laid his sainted head upon the block. From that hour, however, may be dated the gradual decline of the De Rohan family. Instead of martial honours and chivalrous exploits, deeds of a very diffe rent nature began to be the characteristic of their race. Peter Rohan — for they had now dropped the De — had lost all in the unsuccessful struggle to restore the legitimate sovereign to the throne of his ancestors ; and having married the beautiful daughter of an East cheap merchant, and received with her the more un assuming name of Hamilton, began to turn liis thoughts to commerce, and this said commerce, which answered to the full extent, if not beyond his expectations, he bequeathed most piously to his son, and so on, from the time of Charles the Second down to the reign of our happy, good-hearted sailor-king.

Not that Mr. Hamil ton, poor man ! was exactly a merchant, having, alas ! about as much knowledge of business as his infant daughter, who at this moment is quietly reposing, with feet curled up, aud eyes half closed, most snugly in her nurse's lap ; hut he lived on the profits of one, and very pretty profits they were, enabling him to keep a good establishment, ride fine horses, drink expensive wines, besides quahfying him for the office of magistrate for the city of Bath, Chairman at the Quarter Sessions, and many other immunities too numerous to mention. At the age of twenty-one, he had married a young and beautiful girl, "aU for love and the world weU lost," as Marc Anthony phrased it ages and ages ago ; but as it would now be termed, in this go-ahead, money-getting, Californian, Australian, gold-digging, work-a-day life of ours, without a shiUing to bless herseU with, or a shift to her back.

Nevertheless, he was weU content to overlook the deficiency, con sidering with Solomon " that sufficient for the day is the evil thereof," and, to use quotation the second, " that the lUies of the field toU not, neither do they spin," and yet no monarch in his glory, was ever arrayed to equal them — took the object of his choice to his warm-hearted manly breast, and gave no thought of the morrow. Nor had he ever cause to repent his generosity ; if she brought not a fortune with her, neither did she spend one ; careful to save, but upright and just ; liberal, but never wasteful ; generous, but never lavish ; saving, but never mean; she skiUfuUy managed her domestic expenses, and to use another of Solomon's sayings, "looked weU to the ways of her household, and eat not the bread of idleness."

Such was the position of my heroine's father and mother, when in the year of Grace, one thousand eight hundred and odd, she opened her blue eyes upon the light (by the bye, I don't think they were blue), but by courtesy as a title is given to the second sons of peers they were called so. For my own part, I don't believe there are such things as blue eyes in babies ; they are always either green or grey, and whether it. was the original nature of her's, or whether her mother had eyed with more than usual complacency, a very fine tom cat, that graced the establishment, but certainly her eyes, at that early period, if not her mind savoured very much of the green-eyed monster. Be that as it may, though she was the fourth daugh ter born unto the House of Hamilton, and as her three predecessors had budded only to wither and fade, ere they came to maturity, no wonder that she, who contrary to Mrs. Wheeler's predictions, lived to be properly christened and released from heathenism, should run a very narrow chance of being one of the greatest torments on the face of the earth ; and a torment, doubtless, she certainly would have been, but for the loving care of her father and the ever watchful attention of her mother.

These two combined, prevented her turning out, like the usual run of spoilt children — not that spoilt chil dren are disagreeable, it is a misnomer, love cannot spoil its object : it is neglected, not spoilt children, that live to be the plagues of the earth — a revival of the pests of Egypt. Children who have never known what it is to carry all their little wants to the maternal bosom — children who in the midst of plenty, pine away aU the sweetest and brightest hours of their young existence, unloved and uncared for — children whose parents think that so long as they are washed and fed, like a kennel fuU of harriers, or a pack of hounds (it would be a mockery to liken them to the belapped, befondled, bespoilt poodles, that nine times out of ten, occupy the mother's thoughts and grace her carriage) nothing more remains to be done.

Children, alas ! how many there are, poor little disconsolate souls, who occupy the uppermost stories of the great houses that fill England's vast metropolis, and who consigned to the care of hard, coarse minded selfish hirelings, never know, never feel, till too late to profit by it, the exquisite bliss of a mother's love. But as I said before, May Hamilton, was not one of those poor ill-used, badly treated neglected specimens of hu manity. Ah, no ! She was washed, and dressed, and combed, it is true, somewhat too much I fear, to judge by the desperate vanity that filled her little breast in her nursery days ; but she was also treated with affection and love — was supposed to be able to feel, hear, and see for herself, and was never consigned to that nest of iU usage, that den of petty despotism, that curse of baby hood, by common consent called a nursery, but by sensible, reasonable, rational beings, styled a cursery.

Her mother abhorred the system altogether. She could not see, nor more would any one else, (except those selfish mortals, who prefer the indulgence of their own idle whims, to the welfare of their helpless offspring, both here and hereafter) how a common, if even an honest conscientious woman, (and doubtless there are many) generaUy chosen from the lowest walks of life ; could supply the place of a mother, to a delicate well born child, with an immortal soul to save and preserve to return at last to the God who gave it. So Miss May HamUton, as soon as her mother had recovered from the effects of her entrance into this world of sin and sorrow, ups and downs, crosses and pleasures, was brought down regularly into the drawing-room, and made to behave, even at that early period, as became a Christian gentlewoman.

Thus, before she was two years old, she knew as well as I do now the sound of the bell that summoned the household to daily prayer, and sat with her little hands folded together, after the fashion of the infant Samuel, during the reading of that Book which giveth light to those, that sit in darkness, and promiseth eternal life to those that seek it. In this way, she progressed through the successive stages of babyhood, childhood, and girlhood, and reached the centre of her teens, in the way usual to young ladies of condition, learning the average amount of feminine accomplishments, and making rather more, (at least, if her professors were to be believed) than the usual progress of young girls at her age. At any rate, whether she did or no, there was no one to do any better, for she had neither sister nor brother, her mother never blessing her husband with any more pledges of affection. c Therefore, as she throve and prospered, and on the whole, turned out a tolerably weU conducted little girl, in due time she became monarch of aU she surveyed, and a very aristocratic exclusive sort of monarchy it was — equal, I assure you, in consequeutial petty des potism to the smaUest and meanest of the little German States.

Her will became law. If Miss May HamUton chose to do a thing— and Miss May very often chose to do what she should not — not aU the talking in the world, (as her old nurse used to say, at her periodical visits, or rather inflictions) could prevent her. The organ of will, or rather the bump of obstinacy, in her case, was fully developed. Like a grain of mustard seed it had taken root, and spread over her whole body, till to have her own way, became incorporated with her being. Nor did any one try to prevent her — quite the contrary. Yet it was natural on the whole, I think, that under existing circumstances she should be somewhat spoilt, or more tenderly speaking, cradled and nurtured in love. She was the darling of her father, and worshipped Uke a saint, in the depths of her mother's gentle heart.

She was Miss May Hamilton in every sense of the word, and in every relation of life that point stood foremost. When she rode with her father to the hunt — Somersetshire and Gloucestershire, both boast good hounds — all the men cried out in a breath : "By Jove! Hamilton, what a beautiful creature. You'U have to look sharp after her, old boy ! I cau tell you, when she comes to be a woman. Won't she make many a heart ache !" At these words, her father would only smile com placently, shrug his shoulders, and answer quietly : " Ah ! Donovan, time enough for that yet !" and then drawing her closer to his side, ride off in triumph with his prize. These and similar other speeches greeted her infant ears, whenever to use good old Dr. Watts' words : " She took her rides and walks abroad." At home, matters were fifty times worse; every old servant of her father's, and old servants' descendants, deemed it their proper and bounden duty to set her up as an idol, so that she looked down from her pedestal upon nothing but hosts of worshippers, all ready to foretell and prognos ticate riches, grandeur, and good fortune enough to have portioned a whole principality of the daughters of Eve.

Yet for all that, she was a nice girl, genuinely good-hearted, and thoroughly good-tempered — two very great endowments, and served as a bank to draw upon, when she least expected it. For alas ! these golden days of her's were not permitted to last, as when the sun is at its height, it throws a flood of glory over the earth, making all and everything refulgent with its light, so did these, her youthful days, seemed winged with light and happiness, while the darker clouds of her destiny, like the background of a picture, only served to enhance the serene splendour of her present hour. c But as misfortunes never come alone, it seldom raining but it pours, the relation had best be deferred to the next chapter. And now, having performed the part of M.C., and properly introduced May Hamilton to my readers, I shall leave her to teU her own story, and withdraw altogether from the scene of action.

Chapter III

We left him full of life and hope With all its dreams before him. We found him on our coming back With the pall of death flung o'er him. OLD BALLAD. THE DEATH. It was the month of May, eighteen hundred and odd, about the latter end of that vagrish, whimsical, smile and tear month, that returning home from a walk with my mother, rather late in the evening, we were startled by perceiving a large crowd of people opposite our house in the Circus. That something had happened we instantly perceived, and also that it was our house, in particular, which was the centre of attraction, for the eyes of all present were fixed upon it. "What can be the matter, May?" said my mother, in an alarmed tone. " I don't know," I replied, while my heart beat quicker as I spoke, and a vague feeling of fear seemed to take possession of my soul.

" Run on !" said my mother. " You will get there quicker than I can, and inquire, what the people are standing round the house for." I needed no second bidding, but, flying along at the very top of my speed, was through the crowd and up the steps of the house before the people were well aware that any one had passed them. I knocked as you may be sure with energy, for I strongly suspected that the kitchen chimney had been on fire, or some such fearful contrivance for getting up a crowd, at a moment's notice, and I wanted to see my father and have the truth out, so heeding not the terrified exclamations of the servant who opened the door, I ran past her and dashed into the dining-room. Oh ! what a sight met my wondering eyes, as I opened the door. Years have elapsed — years of mingled sorrow and happiness, bhss and despair ; but, the scene of that night has never been effaced from my memory.