University of Virginia Library

12. CHAPTER XII.
DISCLOSURES.

The obsequies of Colonel Franklin, were attended
with the circumstances of pomp and state which his
rank required, and the journals of the day proclaim
ed his patriotism and public worth, while his family
mourned in secret over the ruin caused by his unbridled
passions.

Closeted with his bosom friend Edward Ainslie,
young Franklin laid before him the manuscript
which he had found by his father's direction. It
had been written in a season of deep remorse, and
its object was evidently to redeem from undeserved

obloquy, the memory of the unfortunate Charlotte
Temple, the mother of Lucy Temple Blakeney.
Probably Colonel Franklin had intended to transmit
it to her friends. Indeed a direction to that effect
was found on a loose paper, in the desk. He took
the whole blame of her ill-fated elopement upon
himself. He disclosed circumstances which he had
discovered after her decease, which proved her faithfulness
to himself; and lamented in terms of the deepest
sorrow, that it was in his power to make her no
better reparation for all her love and all her injuries,
than the poor one of thus bearing testimony to her
truth and his own cruelty and injustice. He had
never intended this paper to be seen until after his
decease. He could not bear to make these full disclosures
and afterwards look upon the countenances
of his children; and he mentioned that the reason,
why he had so readily complied with the wish of
a rich relation of his wife, that he should change his
family name of Montraville for that of Franklin,
was, that under that name he had taken the fatal
step which destroyed his peace—to use his own
forcible expression, “he would willingly have
lost all recollection of what he was, and changed not
his name only but himself.”

“Edward!” said the unfortunate youth, when
the reading of this terrible record was finished,
“I have disclosed to you the story of my ruined,
blasted hopes. Receive this as the strongest mark
of my friendship and confidence. Go to her!” he
could not utter the name of Lucy. “Tell these dreadful
truths in such a manner as your own feeling heart

shall direct. She is a christian. This is her great
trial, sent to purify and exalt her soul and fit her
for a brighter sphere of existence. I cannot—I dare
not see her again. I cannot even give you for her
any other message than a simple, heartfelt `God
bless her!' I have caused myself to be exchanged
into a regiment which is ordered to India, and to-morrow
I bid farewell to England!”

Edward promised implicitly to obey his friend's
directions; and receiving from him the fatal miniature,
he took leave of him for that day, and returned
to his father's residence to dispatch a letter to Mr.
Matthews, promising to be with him in a few days,
and bring full intelligence of all that related to these
unfortunate occurrences.

The next day he attended his friend for the last
time, and witnessed the final preparations for his departure.
There was a firmness, a sternness of purpose
in Franklin's countenance, which indicated that his
thoughts were fixed on some high and distant object;
and though he spoke not of his future prospects,
Edward who knew the force of his character, mentally
predicted that his name would be found in the
records of military renown. There was an impatience
to be gone apparent in some of his movements,
as if he feared to linger a moment on English
ground. But this was inadvertently displayed, and
he took leave of his mother, family and friend, with
that deep emotion, which must ever affect a feeling
heart on such an occasion.

Edward was surprised at one circumstance, which
was that Mrs. Franklin seemed to approve of her

son's purpose to leave the kingdom. He had expected
to find her very anxious to retain him, as
a protector to herself. But he had not attributed to
that lady all the judgment and firmness which
belonged to her character. He had witnessed her
enduring affection, and her noble example of all the
passive virtues. Her energy and decision was yet
to appear.

When the carriage, which bore his friend to the
place of embarkation, had disappeared, he turned to
the widow and made a most cordial tender of his
services in whatever the most active friendship could
perform for her in her new and trying situation.
He mentioned his purpose of going to Hampshire,
and offered to return and await her commands as soon
as the purpose of his journey was accomplished. This
friendly offer was very gratefully acknowledged, but
the tender of his services in the city was declined.
It was not her purpose, she said, to remain in London;
but should any circumstances occur which
would render it necessary to avail herself of his
kind offer, she should not fail to do it, in virtue of
the claim which his friendship for her son gave her.
At any rate he should be apprized of the future
movements of the family by some one of its members.

Satisfied with this arrangement, Ainslie retired.