John Floyd’s letters are delightful and instructive reading. They reveal a highly intelligent and observant man, a keen soldier, possessing great gentleness of character and a strong affection for his family and friends. He describes the country, its flora and fauna, and writes himself down a pre-Darwinian when he tells Lord Pembroke, “The monkeys are far the most innocent part of the human species—for I hope you do not doubt that they are a branch of our family.” He was not wholly dissatisfied with his life in India, though he longed for active service. “When I am to return to England God only knows; I endeavour to avoid thinking of it. I am sensible the chances are against my returning at all. I aim indeed at a little fame, and I would fain return so as to venture to marry.”
When in 1790 he was at length ordered to the field, he writes to his sister Elizabeth that he has made all provision for her, “but I do not think I shall die a bit the sooner on this account, for I propose marrying when I go back to England, and having a prodigious number of children.”
Floyd commanded the cavalry with distinguished ability during the Mysore campaigns of 1790, 1791, 1792, and 1799. It had always been his opinion that the first military miracle to be performed in India would be wrought by cavalry, that a small body of well-disciplined Europeans on horseback, judiciously led, would defeat and destroy myriads of Indian enemies.
During the lull between the campaigns of 1790 and 1791 Floyd found time to carry out the wish that had long been in his heart. He was now forty-three years of age, and had fallen in love with Rebecca Juliana, the beautiful daughter of Charles Darke, a free merchant of Madras. The wedding took place at Madras, 29th January 1791, and in February Floyd was in the field again. There were four children of the marriage, all born in India, three girls—Miranda born in 1792, Julia (the future Lady Peel) in 1795, and Flavia in 1797—and one boy, Henry, born in 1793. Both parents were devoted to their children. Mrs. Floyd attended to them entirely herself, and would not allow a native servant to go near them, for her husband writes: “She unfortunately dislikes all natives, from His Highness the Nawab to the meanest of them.” The children were all healthy and good looking. Mrs. Floyd used to send her husband affectionate little notes about herself—her health was not good—and the children, referring to Julia as a delightful little kitten. These notes, in accordance with the regulations then in force for private letters sent to the army in the field, had to be 2 inches wide by 6-3/8 inches long, and to be rolled, not folded.
In 1798 Floyd, who was now a Major-General, began to wish to return to England as soon as all was quiet, and he could be spared, but it was July 1800 before, with his wife and four children, he reached England. Julia, with Miranda and Henry, were placed with the Rev. M. Sketchley at Parson’s Green, while a permanent abode for the family was searched for and made ready for their reception. Floyd was prepared to spend a sum of £10,000 to £15,000 on the purchase of a suitable country house. He took the very greatest interest in his children’s education from their earliest years, and when Miranda was only seven we find his wife telling him that she is trying all possible ways to bring her on in her reading, and that she sketches quite prettily, and turns a letter with her pen better than her mother can do. Floyd’s letters to his children when he was separated from them are delightful. In May 1801—he had become Lieutenant-General in January—he went to Tunbridge Wells with his wife and little daughter Flavia, and his sister Elizabeth, and wrote to Miranda:
“Harry’s[14] desire was told his mamma that she should buy him a wife, but as that is thought to be an affair of great consequence, Harry must be very exact in describing the sort of wife he would like, whether long or short, thick or thin, young or old. Handsome, no doubt. There are some sweet creatures in a pastry-cook’s shop from three inches to a matter of six inches tall. But if one of these wives is sent I am afraid he will be so fond that he will quite eat her up. In the meantime, he may consider the matter....
“You must read my letters to Harry and Julia, for though I address them to you as a young lady considerably advanced in her education, they in part belong to you all, for I love you all most tenderly.”
A house had been found at Farnborough Hill, and at the end of the month the family settled there. But unhappily it was not to be for long. At the end of January 1802 the little Flavia was taken ill with scarlet fever. Her mother insisted on nursing her herself, and took the infection. The child died on 1st February, and Mrs. Floyd, who was only thirty years of age, on 3rd February. They were buried at Farnborough, and there is a tablet to their memory in the church. The three remaining children were now taken care of by their aunt, Miss Elizabeth Floyd, who lived at Chalk Farm, near Bromley, Kent. Their father, when away from them on duty, continued to exhort the children to attend to their studies, counselled them to take great pains with their writing, for “you will find it becomes fully as easy to write well as to scrawl so that nobody can read what you say,” and promised if they made good progress to take them to Sidmouth for a reward. Besides the writing of a clear hand[15] he laid much stress on good reading aloud, and also on reading to improve their minds and to form their style of writing. They are not to read novels, “for ninety-nine times in a hundred they are sad stuff, and very poor in thought. Read solid sense—history, poetry, Shakespeare’s plays, Pliny’s letters,” and this to children of whom the eldest was only twelve, the very age, her father reminded her, at which he set out from home to seek his fortune. They are to study arithmetic, geography, and music, especially singing. Needlework and, above all, dancing—“I think, with such insteps and ankles as some folks have, it would be sad indeed if some folks did not skip over the ground in true airy style of a fairy, preserving always the beautiful aplomb, or plumb line, without stiffness”—are not to be neglected.
On 29th July 1805 Floyd took a second wife, Anna, daughter of Crosbie Morgell of Castle Morgell, Ireland, and widow of Sir Barry Denny, Bart., of Tralee Castle, Co. Kerry. The children still remained with their aunt in England, and Lady Denny—Floyd never calls her anything else in his letters—with her husband in Dublin, where he was now on duty. He became a full General on 1st January 1812, and was appointed Governor of Gravesend and Tilbury Forts in 1814. His elder daughter Miranda married, 18th November 1815, General Sir Joseph Fuller.[16] In 1816 Floyd was created a baronet for his services in India seventeen years before. He died at his house in London, 10 Mansfield Street, 10th January 1818, aged seventy, and was buried in St. James’s Church, Hampstead Road, London. His wife survived him until 4th December 1844.
Two years after her father’s death, on 8th June 1820, Julia Floyd, who had developed into a very beautiful girl, was married to Robert Peel,[17] now a rising statesman. He had already held office, having been Chief Secretary for Ireland in Lord Liverpool’s Government from 1812 to 1818. He was thus glad of a period of comparative repose, and for a while he and his bride led a retired life, spending a good deal of their time in the country, at Lulworth Castle, whence in November 1821 he writes to Lord Liverpool of the happiness of his domestic life and of his enjoyment of living as a private individual. They entertained their friends at Lulworth, and among their early visitors was Sir Humphry Davy. In 1822, the year in which Peel had accepted the office of Home Secretary under Lord Liverpool, his happiness was increased by the birth of his eldest son.
The part played by Peel’s wife in his political career is best described by herself, in a letter written in 1846 on Peel’s retirement from office, to her friend Sir Robert Wilson. The original is in the British Museum, and is here printed for the first time.