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THIS gallant
soldier and skilful general was the greatest man produced by the
family of Graham since the illustrious Marquis of Montrose. He was
descended in the direct line from Sir William Graham of
Kincardine, and Mary Stewart, a daughter of Robert III. Sir
William was the ancestor of the Dukes of Montrose, the Earls of
Strathern and Menteith, and all the other branches of the ‘gallant
Graharns.’ Thomas Graham was the third and only surviving son of
Thomas Graham (or Græme, as he spelled his name) of Balgowan, in
Perth-shire, by his wife, Lady Christian Hope, a daughter of the
first Earl of Hopetoun. He was born in 1748, and received his
early education at home, under the tuition first of the Rev. Mr.
Fraser, minister of Monedie, and afterwards of the celebrated
James Macpherson, the collector and translator of Ossian’s poems.
Young Graham was sent to Christchurch, Oxford, in 1766, and in the
following year the death of his father put him in possession of a
handsome and unencumbered estate. On leaving college, he spent
several years on the Continent, where he acquired a thorough
knowledge of the French and German languages. On his return to
Scotland he devoted himself to the management and improvement of
his estate. He enclosed his lands, erected comfortable farmhouses
and offices, granted leases to his tenants, encouraged them to
provide improved implements of husbandry, and to cultivate on a
large scale potatoes and turnips, which had hitherto been regarded
as mere garden plants. He also set himself with great care to
cultivate improved breeds of horses, cattle, and sheep. He
purchased, in 1785, the estate of Lynedoch or Lednoch, situated in
a picturesque part of the valley of the Almond, and took great
delight in planting trees and oak coppices, and in beautifying the
sloping banks which border the course of that stream. From his
boyhood upwards, he was fond of horses and dogs, and was
distinguished for his skill in all country sports, for which his
stalwart and athletic frame eminently fitted him. He rode with the
foxhounds, and accompanied the Duke of Athole, who subsequently
became his brother-in-law, in grouse-shooting and deer-stalking on
the Athole moors. He used to say, in after years, that he owed
much of that education of the eye with reference to ground and
distances, so useful to a military man, to his deer-hunting at
this period of his life in the Forest of Athole.
At the age of
twenty-four, Mr. Graham offered himself as a candidate, in the
Whig interest, for the representation of the county of Perth, in
opposition to the brother of the Duke of Athole, but was defeated
by a majority of only six votes. Two years later (1774) he married
Mary, second daughter of the ninth Earl Cathcart, a lady of
remarkable beauty and accomplishments. Her elder sister, on the
same day, became Duchess of Athole. ‘Jane,’ wrote Lord Cathcart,
‘has married, to please herself, John, Duke of Athole, a peer of
the realm; Mary has married Thomas Graham of Balgowan, the man of
her heart, and a peer among princes.’ The laird of Balgowan was
distinguished for his accomplishments as a scholar as well as for
his skill in the cultivation of his estate, and with his books,
the improvement of his property, his field-sports, and, above all,
the society of his lovely and amiable wife, he spent eighteen
years in the tranquil and happy condition of a country gentleman,
beloved by his neighbours and tenantry, distinguished only as a
daring rider and sportsman, and a good classical scholar.
Mr. and Mrs. Graham
lived mostly at home, but they occasionally spent a few weeks in
Edinburgh and London, and in connection with these visits several
interesting anecdotes are told of Mr. Graham’s devotion to his
wife and of the manner in which he showed his anxiety to promote
her welfare. On one occasion, when the affectionate pair went to
Edinburgh to attend a ball, Mrs. Graham discovered, on the morning
of the day on which it was to take place, that she had left her
jewel-box at Balgowan. Her husband cheered her in these annoying
circumstances by reminding her that ‘beauty, when unadorned, is
adorned the most,’ and said that she need not expect him to
dinner, but that he would return in time for the ball. Without any
hint as to his intention, he left the house, threw himself on
horseback, and rode back to Balgowan—a distance of forty-five
miles, including a ferry. Relays of horses by the way enabled him
to reach Edinburgh, bringing Mrs. Graham’s jewel-box, in time for
the ball.
An incident which
befell Mr. Graham in London gives a strange idea of the state of
the metropolis at that time. He was one day driving, with the
Duchess of Athole and his wife, from Pall Mall to Grosvenor
Square, to attend a party. The carriage was stopped in Park
Lane—opposite the Marquis of Hertford’s house—by a highwayman,
who, pistol in hand, demanded their money, jewels, and watches,
while other two men seized the horses’ heads. Park Lane was then
unlighted, and the police were not only inefficient, but not
unfrequently in collusion with thieves and housebreakers. Mr.
Graham, who was at the opposite side of the carriage, sprang
across the ladies to the carriage-door, and collaring the
assailant, threw him to the ground. Then, drawing his sword, which
at that period formed part of a dress suit, he threatened to run
the man through, if his associates holding the horses’ heads
attempted to come to his assistance. They immediately fled, and
the prostrate highwayman was given into custody.
In the autumn of
1787, Mrs. Graham happened to be on a visit at Blair, to the
Duchess of Athole, along with their youngest sister, Miss
Cathcart, then in her seventeenth year, when Robert Burns, at that
time on a tour in the Highlands, came with a letter of
introduction to the Duke. His Grace was from home, but the visitor
was cordially welcomed by the Duchess, and the Duke returned
before he left Blair. The poet afterwards declared that the two
days (September 1st and 2nd) which he spent there, were among the
happiest days of his life. In a letter which he wrote from
Inverness, on September 5th, to Mr. Walker, afterwards Professor
of Humanity, of Glasgow, who was then residing at Blair Athole,
enclosing his well-known ‘Humble Petition of Bruar Water,’ the
poet says, ‘The "little-angel band "—I declare I prayed for them
very sincerely today at the Fall of Fyers. I shall never forget
the fine family-piece I saw at Blair: the amiable, the truly noble
Duchess, with her smiling little seraph in her lap, at the head of
the table; the lovely "olive-plants," as the Hebrew bard finely
says, round the happy mother; the beautiful Mrs. Graham; the
lovely sweet Miss Cathcart, &c. I wish I had the power of Guido to
do them justice.’ [Sad to tell,
these three lovely sisters all passed away in the flower of their
youth. The Duchess survived Burns’s visit only three years, and
Mrs. Graham five. Miss Cathcart, who was singularly amiable as
well as beautiful, was cut off at twenty-four. And yet other three
members of the Cathcart family lived to a great age.]
In order to induce
Burns to visit her and her husband at Lynedoch, Mrs. Graham
offered to conduct him to a spot hallowed in Scottish song—the
graves of Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, which lie in the bosom of
that romantic estate. [Bessie
Bell was the daughter of the Laird of Kinnaird, and Mary Gray of
the Laird of Lynedoch. An intimate friendship existed between
them, and when the plague of 1666
broke out, the two young ladies built
themselves a house in a retired and romantic spot, called the
Burnbraes, about three-quarters of a mile westward from Lynedoch
House, where they resided for some time, and were supplied with
food by a young gentleman of Perth, who, it is said, was in love
with them both. The disease was unfortunately communicated to them
by their lover, and proved fatal. ‘The pest came frae the burrows-toun,
and slew them baith thegither.’ They were buried in a sequestered
spot called the Dronach Haugh, at the foot of a brae of the same
name, upon the banks of the river Almond. The beauty and the fate
of these ‘twa bonnie lasses’ are commemorated in an old ballad
bearing their name.] He promised to do so, and there is every
probability that he performed his promise when he visited Mr.
Ramsay of Auchtertyre in the following October. It is not unworthy
of mention that Lord Lynedoch had a handsome iron railing placed
round these celebrated graves, and caused them to be neatly
trimmed, and covered with wild flowers.
No happiness on
earth, however, is permanent. Mrs. Graham’s health began to
decline, and on the recommendation of her medical adviser she
went, in the spring of 1792, to the south of France, along with
her husband and sister. But the expedient proved unavailing, and
she died on board ship, off the coast near Hyères, on the 26th of
June. Her sorrowing husband returned home, and deposited her
remains in a mausoleum which he built in the churchyard of Methven,
where, after the lapse of upwards of half a century, he was
himself laid in the same tomb.
The loss of his
wife preyed deeply upon Mr. Graham’s mind, and having in vain
sought, by a twelve-month’s foreign travel, to alleviate his great
sorrow, though now in the forty-third year of his age, he tried to
drown the thought of his irreparable loss amid the toils and
dangers of a military life.
Sir Walter Scott,
in his ‘Vision of Don Roderick,’ thus touchingly refers to the
motive which led the sorrowing husband of Mrs. Graham to devote
himself to a military career :—
‘Nor be his praise
o’erpast who strove to hide
Beneath the warrior’s vest affection’s wound;
Whose wish Heaven for his country’s weal denied;
Danger and fate he sought, but glory found.
From clime to clime, where’er war’s trumpets sound
The wanderer went; yet Caledonia! still
Thine was his thought in march and tented ground:
He dreamed ‘mid Alpine cliffs of Athole’s hill,
And heard in
Ebro’s roar his Lynedoch’s
lovely rill."
[A beautiful
whole-length portrait of Mrs. Graham, which was painted by
Gainsborough, is regarded as a masterpiece of pictorial art. At
her death it was inclosed in a case, and deposited in the back
room of a picture-frame maker in London, where it remained
unopened during Lord Lynedoch’s lifetime. He was never again able
to look upon the ‘counterfeit presentment’ of the face and form so
dear to him. This exquisite work of art was presented by his
cousin and heir, Robert Graham, Esq., of Redgorton, to the
Scottish National Gallery in Edinburgh.]
Mr. Graham joined,
as a volunteer, the British troops sent to assist in the defence
of Toulon, one of the few places which held out against the French
Revolutionary Government. Napoleon Bonaparte, then a lieutenant of
artillery, took part in the siege. Graham distinguished himself so
greatly by his courage and energy, that Lord Mulgrave (to whom he
acted as aide-de-camp), in a general order referring to the
repulse of an attack by the French on an important fort, expressed
‘his grateful sense of the friendly and important assistance which
he had received in many difficult moments from Mr. Graham, and to
add his tribute of praise to the general voice of the British and
Piedmontese officers of his column, who saw with so much pleasure
and applause the gallant example which Mr. Graham set to the whole
column, in the foremost point of every attack.’ On one occasion,
when a private soldier was killed, Graham snatched up his musket
and took his place at the head of the attacking column. It is
worthy of notice that it was at Toulon he first became acquainted
with his life-long friend, Rowland Hill, then a captain, who
ultimately became Viscount Hill, and commander-in chief of the
British army.
On his return to
Scotland, Mr. Graham raised, in Perthshire, the first battalion of
the 90th regiment (Balgowan’s ‘Grey Breeks,’ as they were called),
of which he was appointed lieutenant-colonel in 1794, and
nominated Rowland Hill major. Shortly after he was unanimously
chosen to represent the county of Perth in Parliament. In 1795 he
was stationed with his regiment at Gibraltar; but, soon becoming
wearied of the listlessness of garrison duty, he obtained
permission to join the Austrian army on the Rhine as British
Commissioner. In this capacity he shared in the disastrous
campaign of 1796, and afterward assisted Wurmser in the defence of
Mantua, when it was invested by the French under General
Bonaparte. The garrison was reduced to the greatest extremities
from want of provisions, and Colonel Graham undertook the perilous
duty of conveying intelligence to the Imperialist General Alvinzi,
at Bassano, fifty miles distant, of their desperate situation.
Quitting the fortress, wearing a cloak of the country over his
uniform, on the 24th of December, amid rain and sleet, he crossed
the Mincio, in a boat which was repeatedly stranded in consequence
of the darkness. He pursued his way on foot during the night,
wading through deep swamps, and crossing numerous watercourses and
the river Po, in constant danger of losing his way, or of being
shot by the French pickets, and at daybreak he concealed himself
till the return of night, when he resumed his journey. After
surmounting numerous hardships and perils, he at length reached in
safety, on the 4th of January, the headquarters of the Austrian
general. But on the 14th the Austrians were defeated, and Mantua,
soon after, was forced to surrender.
Colonel Graham now
returned to Scotland, but in the autumn of 1797 he rejoined his
regiment at Gibraltar. In the following year he took part, under
Sir Charles Stuart, in the reduction of Minorca, where he greatly
distinguished himself. He then repaired to Sicily, and obtained
the warmest acknowledgments of the King and Queen of Naples for
his effective exertions on their behalf. In 1798 he was entrusted
with the charge of the operations against the important island of
Malta, which was at that time in the possession of the French.
With the local rank of brigadier-general, he had under his command
the 30th and 89th regiments, and some corps embodied under his
immediate direction. Owing to the great strength of the place, he
was obliged to resort to a blockade, and after being invested for
nearly two years, the garrison were compelled by famine to
surrender in September, 1800, and the island has ever since
remained a portion of the British Empire. Colonel Graham’s
services were very shabbily acknowledged by the Government of that
day, who reserved their patronage and honours for the officers
belonging to their own political party. In the summer of 1801 he
proceeded to Egypt, where his regiment (the 90th) had greatly
distinguished itself under Sir Ralph Abercromby, but he did not
arrive until the campaign had terminated by the capitulation of
the French army. He availed himself of the opportunity, however,
to make a tour in that country and in Turkey. He spent some time
in Constantinople, whence he travelled on horseback to Vienna—a
journey which in later years he used to mention as one of the most
agreeable rides he had ever enjoyed.
After spending some
time in the discharge of his parliamentary duties, and in
attending to the improvement of his estates, Colonel Graham was
stationed with his regiment in Ireland, and was then sent to the
West Indies, where he remained for three years. When the Ministry
of ‘All the Talents’ was dismissed in 1807, on account of the
favour they had shown for the Roman Catholic claims to equal
privileges, Colonel Graham supported their policy, and denounced
as hypocrisy the cry of ‘No Popery’ raised by Mr. Perceval. But
his approval of the proceedings of the Whig Ministry, and of Roman
Catholic emancipation did not find favour with the Perthshire
electors—a small body in those days—and on the dissolution of
Parliament in May, 1807, Colonel Graham declined to seek
re-election, and Lord James Murray was returned without opposition
in his stead.
In 1808 Colonel
Graham accompanied Sir John Moore as his aide-de-camp to Sweden,
and then to Spain. He served with that distinguished officer
throughout the whole of his campaign, terminating in the arduous
and trying retreat to Corunna, in which Graham’s services were
especially valuable to the harassed troops. As Sheridan said in
the House of Commons, ‘In the hour of peril Graham was their best
adviser; in the hour of disaster Graham was their surest
consolation.’ When Sir John Moore received his death-wound at the
battle of Corunna, Colonel Graham was at his right hand, and had
his left hand on the mane of Sir John’s horse. He at once rode
away for medical assistance. Before he returned his dying general
missed him, and anxiously asked, ‘Are Colonel Graham and my
aides-de-camp safe?‘—one of his last inquiries. The remains of the
gallant and noble-minded general were carried first to Colonel
Graham’s quarters, and he was one of the select company who
witnessed the memorable scene of Moore’s burial on the rampart of
the citadel of Corunna.
After his return to
England, Colonel Graham was promoted to the rank of major-general,
and was appointed, in the summer of 1809, to command a division
under the incompetent and indolent Lord Chatham, in the fatal
Walcheren expedition. An attack of malaria fever, however,
compelled him to return home. On his recovery he was raised to the
rank of lieutenant-general, and was sent to Spain, to take command
of the British and Portuguese troops in Cadiz, which was at that
time closely invested by the French. The British Government
attached great importance to the possession of Cadiz, as it was
the last stronghold of the patriotic cause in the Peninsula. But,
as Sir William Napier remarked, while ‘money, troops, and a
fleet—in fine, all things necessary to render Cadiz
formidable—were collected, yet to little purpose, because
procrastinating jealousy, ostentation, and a thousand absurdities,
were the invariable attendants of Spanish armies and government.’
General Graham
resolved to make a resolute effort to raise the siege by attacking
the rear of the besieging army, and in February, 1811, he sailed
from Cadiz with a force of upwards of 4,000 men, accompanied by
7,000 Spanish troops, under General La Pena, to whom, for the sake
of unanimity, the chief command was unfortunately conceded. The
allied troops assembled at Tarifa, in the Straits of Gibraltar,
and, moving northward, they arrived, on the morning of the 5th of
March, at the heights of Barossa, which were on the south of Cadiz
and of the lines of the besieging army. The cowardice and
stupidity of the Spanish general placed the force in imminent
peril. By his instructions, General Graham moved down from the
position of Barossa to that of the Torre de Bermeja, about
half-way to the Santi Petri river, in order to secure the
communication across that river. While marching through the wood
towards the Barmeja, Graham received notice that the enemy was
advancing in force towards the height of Barossa. As that position
was the key of that of Santi Petri, Graham immediately
countermarched, in order to support the troops left for its
defence; but before the British force could get themselves quite
disengaged from the wood, he saw to his astonishment the Spanish
troops under La Pena abandoning the Barossa hill, which the French
left wing was rapidly ascending. At the same time their right wing
stood in the plain on the edge of the wood, within cannon-shot. ‘A
retreat,’ as he says, ‘in the face of such an enemy, already
within reach of the easy communication by the sea-beach, must have
involved the whole allied army in all the danger of being attacked
during the unavoidable confusion of the different corps arriving
on the narrow ridge of the Barmeja at the same time. Trusting,’ as
he says, ‘to the known heroism of British troops, regardless of
the numbers and position of the enemy,’ General Graham determined
on an immediate attack. In the centre a powerful battery of ten
guns, under Major Duncan, opened a most destructive fire upon
General Laval’s division, which, however, continued to advance in
very imposing masses, but was completely defeated by a determined
charge of the British left wing; and the eagle of the 8th regiment
of light infantry, and a howitzer, were captured. A reserve formed
beyond the narrow valley, across which the enemy was closely
pursued, next shared the same fate. Meanwhile the right wing was
not less successful. General Ruffin’s division, confident of
success, met it on the ascent of the hill, and, after a sanguinary
conflict, was driven from the heights in confusion, leaving two
pieces of cannon in the hands of the victors.
‘No expressions of
mine,’ said General Graham, in his despatch to the Earl of
Liverpool, ‘could do justice to the conduct of the troops
throughout. Nothing less than the almost unparalleled exertions of
every officer, the invincible bravery of every soldier, and the
most determined devotion to the honour of his Majesty’s arms in
all, could have achieved this brilliant success against such a
formidable enemy so posted.’
‘The contemptible
feebleness of La Pena,’ says Sir William Napier, ‘furnished a
surprising contrast to the heroic vigour of Graham, whose attack
was an inspiration rather than a resolution— so sure, so sudden
was the decision, so swift, so conclusive was the execution.’
[Napier’s History of the Peninsular War, iii. Appendix.]
The French lost
about three thousand men in this brilliant action, and six pieces
of cannon and an eagle were captured, along with nearly five
hundred prisoners, among whom were Generals Ruffin and Rosseau.
The loss on the side of the victors was two hundred killed, and
upwards of nine hundred were wounded. Had it not been for the
imbecility and obstinacy of the Spanish general, the victory might
have had the effect of raising the blockade of’ Cadiz. ‘Had the
whole body of the Spanish cavalry,’ wrote Graham, ‘with the horse
artillery, been rapidly sent by the sea-beach to form on the
plain, and to envelop the enemy’s left; had the greatest part of
the infantry been marched through the pine wood to the rear of the
British force, to turn his right, he must either have retired
instantly, or he would have exposed himself to absolute
destruction; his cavalry greatly encumbered, his artillery lost,
his columns mixed and in confusion; and a general dispersion would
have been the inevitable consequence of a close pursuit. But the
movement was lost.’
Lord Wellington, in
a despatch to General Graham, says ‘I beg to congratulate you and
the brave troops under your command on the signal victory which
you gained on the 5th instant. I have no doubt whatever that their
success would have had the effect of raising the siege of Cadiz,
if the Spanish troops had made any effort to assist them; and I am
equally certain, from your account of the ground, that if you had
not decided with the utmost promptitude to attack the enemy, and
if your attack had not been a most vigorous one, the whole allied
army would have been lost.’ [The
Duke of Wellington’s Despatches,
vii. 382.]
The Spanish
general, in order to screen himself from merited obloquy,
circulated false and calumnious accounts of the battle, which
General Graham exposed by publishing in Spanish, as well as in
English, his dispatch to Lord Liverpool, along with a letter to
the British envoy, in vindication of his conduct. Lord Wellington
mentions that La Pena was to be brought to a court-martial, but
nothing is known of the result. The Cortez voted to General Graham
the title of grandee of the first class; he, however, declined the
honour. For his brilliant victory at Barossa he received the
thanks of Parliament, in his place as a member of the House of
Commons.
Graham shortly
after joined the army under Wellington, and was appointed second
in command. In January, 1812, he took part in the siege and
capture of Ciudad Rodrigo, and Wellington declared that he was
much indebted to him for the success of the enterprise. Three
months later he and his friend General Hill received the Order of
the Bath. A complaint in his eyes, from which he had been
suffering for some time, made it necessary for Graham to return
home at this juncture. ‘I cannot avoid feeling the utmost
concern,’ wrote Wellington to him, ‘that this necessity should
have become urgent at this moment, and that I should now be
deprived of your valuable assistance.’ At the general election in
October, 1812, Sir Thomas Graham contested the county of Perth
with Mr. Drummond (afterwards Lord Strathallan), but though he was
supported by a number of influential Tories, he lost the election
by a majority of seven votes.
His visit to
Scotland had the effect of restoring his eyesight, and in May,
1813, he rejoined the army at Frinada, on the frontiers of
Portugal, bringing with him the insignia of the Order of the
Garter to Lord Wellington. On the 22nd of May the British force
quitted Portugal and moved upon Vittoria in three divisions. The
left wing, which was commanded by Sir Thomas Graham, had to cross
three large rivers—the Douro, the Esla, and the Ebro—and had to
force positions of great strength among the passes of the
mountains, continually pressing round the right wing of the
retiring French army. General Graham took a prominent part in the
battle of Vittoria (21st June), when the French were beaten
‘before the town, in the town, about the town, and out of the
town;’ and, by carrying the villages of Gamarra and Abecherco at
the point of the bayonet, he intercepted the retreat of the enemy
by the high road to Bayonne, and compelled them to turn to that
leading to Pampeluna. He was shortly after directed to conduct the
siege of the strong fortress of St. Sebastian, which was defended
with great gallantry and skill by General Rey. The first assault,
which took place on the 25th of July, was repulsed with heavy
loss, and the siege had in consequence to be raised for a time. It
was renewed, however, after the defeat of Soult in the battles of
the Pyrenees, and a second attempt to carry the fortress by storm
was made on the 31st of August. The breach was found to present
almost insuperable obstacles, and the storming party strove in
vain to effect a lodgement. In this almost desperate state of the
attack, General Graham ordered a heavy fire of artillery to be
directed against the curtain, passing only a few feet over the
heads of our troops in the breach. This novel expedient was
completely successful. Taking advantage of an explosion on the
rampart caused by the fire of the guns, which created confusion
among the enemy, the assailants gained a footing on the wall, and
after a sanguinary struggle, which lasted two hours, forced their
way into the town. On the 9th of September the brave Governor Rey
surrendered the citadel, and the garrison, reduced to one-third of
their number, marched out with the honours of war. The reduction
of this important place cost the allies three thousand eight
hundred men in killed and wounded.
At the passage of
the Bidassoa, which separates France and Spain, General Graham
commanded the left wing of the British army, and, after an
obstinate conflict, succeeded in establishing his victorious
troops on the French territory. But the return of the complaint in
his eyes, and the general state of his health, obliged him to
resign his command and return home. In return for his eminent
services, he now received a third time the thanks of Parliament,
and the freedom of the cities of London and Edinburgh was
conferred upon him. His health was so far recovered that early in
1814 he was able to take the command of the British forces in
Holland, and directed the unsuccessful attempt, March 8th, to
carry the strong fortress of Bergen-op-Zoom by a night attack. On
the 3rd of May, 1814, he was raised to the peerage by the title of
Baron Lynedoch of Balgowan; but, in keeping with his disinterested
and high-minded character, he declined the grant of £2,000 a year,
to himself and to his heirs, which was voted as usual to accompany
the title. Other honours, both British and foreign, were heaped
upon him. He was made a Knight Grand Cross of the Order of St.
Michael and St. George, of the Spanish Order of St. Ferdinand, and
of the Portuguese Order of the Tower and Sword. He was raised to
the full rank of general in 1821, was nominated colonel of the
14th Foot in 1826, which in 1834 he exchanged for that of the
Royals. He was elected Rector of the University of Glasgow, and in
1829 was appointed Governor of Dumbarton Castle, a post of more
honour than profit, as the salary was only £170 a year.
The old age of the
gallant veteran was spent among a wide circle of friends, by whom
he was held in the highest esteem and honour, and his exploits
were celebrated, even during his lifetime, both by the poetic and
the historic muse. He took a warm interest in public events, and
gave a steady support to the Whig Ministry under Earl Grey, and
Lord Melbourne. He travelled frequently on the Continent, and
visited not only Italy, Germany, and France, but Denmark, Sweden,
and Russia. In the end of the autumn of 1841, only two years
before his death, he travelled through France to Genoa and Rome.
His riding-horses were sent on to Rome, and he rode frequently in
the Campagna. Lord Cockburn gives an interesting sketch in his
Journal of the appearance of the gallant veteran, under the date
of October 24th, 1837. ‘I dined at Craigcrook,’ he wrote, ‘on the
21st, and at the New Club yesterday, for the first time since he
was couched for cataract, with one of the finest specimens of an
old gentleman—Lord Lynedoch. He is better even than the Chief
Commissioner, in so far as he is a year or two older. At the age
of about eighty-eight, his mind and body are both perfectly
entire. He is still a great horseman, drives to London night and
day in an open carriage, eats and drinks like an ordinary person,
hears as well as others; sees well enough, after being operated
upon, for all practical purposes, reading included; has the
gallantry and politeness of an old soldier; enjoys and enlivens
every company, especially where there are ladies, by a plain,
manly, sensible, well-bred manner, and a conversation rich in his
strong judgment, and with a memory full of the most interesting
scenes and people of the last seventy years. Large in bone and
feature, his head is finer than Jupiter’s. It is like a grey,
solid, war-worn castle. Nor has it only been in the affairs of war
that his manly, chivalrous spirit has made him admired and loved.
He has always taken a decided part in politics, on the popular
side, and is one of the old Whigs, who find nothing good
prevailing now but what he fought for and anticipated long ago. He
is one of the men who make old age lovely.’ [Journal of
Henry Cockburn, i. 149.]
Lord Lynedoch
continued to the last his early rising, his active habits, and
temperate mode of living, his interest in rural affairs, and in
the management and adornment of his estate. Only four weeks before
his death he sent down from London to his gardener a number of
trees and shrubs, with minute directions where they were to be
planted. His hand is still to be traced in every corner of the
Lynedoch estate. He died in London on the 18th of December, 1843,
in the ninety-sixth year of his age, after a very short illness:
indeed, he rose and dressed himself on the day of his death.
In his person Lord
Lynedoch was tall, square-shouldered, and erect, his limbs sinewy
and remarkably strong. His complexion was dark, with full
eyebrows, firm-set lips, and an open, benevolent air. His manners
and address were frank, simple, and polished. He was greatly
beloved by his friends, and esteemed and trusted by his tenantry
and neighbours. He has left a name, as Mr. Abbot, the Speaker of
the House of Commons, said, ‘never to be mentioned in our military
annals without the strongest expression of respect and
admiration.’ |
