The Academic Gregories

by Agnes Grainger Stewart

One day in the beginning of February 1773, John Gregory was talking to his son James about his health. His son told him that he feared it was likely he would soon have a bad attack of gout, a disease from which he had been entirely free for three years. Professor Gregory, who felt himself in full vigour, and who was in the height of his work, was much vexed with this prognosis. Gout was a dread enemy in his mother’s family, and he always feared its visitations. He had suffered from it more or less since he was eighteen, and the preface to the Father’s Legacy indicates his anticipation of an early death.

On the morning of the 10th he was found dead in bed. His face was peaceful, everything was smooth and still, showing that death had come gently. But the familiar presence had passed away for ever from his home. It is said that Gregory had a great fear of darkness, and that after his wife’s death he used to have an old woman come and sit by him to hold his hand till he fell asleep, and if this is true, it is most strange. He was forty-nine when he died.

John Gregory was succeeded in the chair by William Cullen, who, when his time came, made room for James Gregory, the fourth incumbent of the chair: a son of Dorothea Gregory, William Pulteney Alison was the sixth.

In appearance John Gregory was tall and strongly built. His face in repose was kind, although too full and heavy to look clever; even his eyes were dull. When he was talking there was a complete change. Interest, life and expression transformed his features, until one could hardly suppose him to be the same man. The charm of his manner has never been gainsaid, and like the beauty of his wife, it is mentioned in every biography.

After her father died, Dorothea went to live with her godmother, Mrs Montague, under whose care she spent the rest of her unmarried life. She was made very happy, and gave great pleasure wherever she went. She had inherited, if not all her mother’s beauty, a great share of it, and her nature was as sweet and strong as her father’s and mother’s in one. When Sir William Pulteney, who had been a friend of her father’s, heard of Dorothea’s engagement to the Rev. Archibald Alison, he wanted to satisfy himself that she was making a suitable marriage, and with this object in view went himself to see if all the good things that were said about the bridegroom were true. He gives a pleasant description of the expedition.

‘Andrew Stuart and I accompanied Mr Alison to Thrapston, and the marriage took place on the 19th, by a license from the Archbishop of Canterbury. I conducted them afterwards to their residence, and we left them next morning after breakfast, as happy as it is possible for people to be. Mr Alison was obliged to come round by London, in order to take an oath at granting the license, and I was glad of the opportunity which the journey afforded me of making an acquaintance with him; for tho’ I had little doubt that Miss Gregory had made a proper choice, yet I wished to be perfectly satisfied, and the result is, that I think neither you nor Mr Nairne have said a word too much in his favour.’

Dorothea Gregory’s two sons were William Pulteney Alison, Professor of the Practice of Physic, and Sir Archibald Alison, the historian. Her daughter Montague, before her marriage with Colonel Gerard, was loved by Thomas Campbell, the poet, and by Francis Jeffrey.

Anna, John Gregory’s second daughter, married John Forbes, Esq. of Blackford, in Aberdeenshire. William the second son went into the Church, and was appointed one of the ‘six preachers’ in Canterbury Cathedral. Of his sons one was a successful doctor in London, and another, John, Governor of the Bahammas, was the father of Mr Philip Spencer Gregory, who has already been referred to in this book.

Dr Gregory changed the spelling of his name from Gregorie to Gregory during his stay in London. Curiously enough, the only other branch of the Gregories who had up to that time emigrated to the south had made the same alteration.

Professor John Gregory’s fame, while it may not have extended as widely as that of his son, was yet far-reaching. When Beattie had an interview with the king in 1773, His Majesty made special enquiries about his First Physician for Scotland. This was probably shortly after the professor’s death.