That General Wauchope was a skilled officer goes without saying. He had made military tactics his life study. And he had the personal influence that enabled men to follow his leadership without hesitation. Several of his brother officers who had been with him for years, and had fought beside him in many a battle, have favoured us with their opinion of his skill as a commander; and, as to his responsibility for the blunder or misadventure of Magersfontein, one of them says: 'As a commanding officer, he was beloved by all ranks; respected as a born leader of men, for he had but to hold up his little finger and the whole regiment would have followed him to—anywhere! He brought the battalion to a wonderful pitch of excellency, both in professional and social success, and invariably received the highest praise from every general officer who ever inspected them.' And from another we have the remarkable testimony: 'Wauchope diligently studied his profession, to which he was devoted, and was noted in his regiment for his coolness and judgment. I say this with special reference to the circumstances preceding his lamentable death, and the loss of a large part of the Highland Brigade recently in South Africa. Eminently a cool and cautious leader, Wauchope would have never led his brigade in close formation into the very jaws of destruction without scouting or other means of discovering the near proximity of the enemy, unless he had had direct stringent orders to do so.' From still another distinguished officer comes the following: 'General Wauchope's name as a soldier was known to all ranks in the army, and I am certain that time will prove that he was not responsible for the decimation of the brigade he loved so well. He was far too good a tactician for that blunder.'
It will be seen as our narrative has proceeded, that while the career of Andrew Gilbert Wauchope of Niddrie is in the main that of an earnest, devoted soldier of the Crown, full of chequered incident and varied experience, there is at the same time a many-sidedness of character developed in his life. A soldier first, he was as much at home, it has been said, in the commonplace business of the local School Board and Parish Council, or in the transactions of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland. Essentially a modest man, he never made an affectation of superiority, and indeed he was much inclined to underrate his own ability in almost every work in which he was engaged. As a politician he knew his own mind, and he had become one of the clearest and most humorous exponents of the policy which he advocated. Great in arms, he was equally great in the arts of peace; and while professionally attached to his duties as a soldier, he had a horror of war, and an unbounded appreciation of the blessings of peace.
Those who knew him best, who had lived with him in barracks or camp, who shared with him the dangers of war, bear witness to his many kind deeds, and his sympathetic interest in others, of his kind-hearted generosity, his homeliness, and general simplicity of heart. He was indeed a typical Scotsman, possessing all the best characteristics of a Scotsman, with no fear in his heart but the fear of God, or, as one has described him—'A man among men, and a man of God.'
Honoured by all
To the people on his estate he was more than anything else a father, in his interest and care; the active patron of everything that was worthy, the participator in all that was helpful to their life; the benefactor whose liberal hand supplied many a need, and brightened and blessed many a home. When the news of his death came from South Africa, all ranks and classes united in lamenting the fall of a brave and a good man, of one who would be much missed, of one who could ill be spared. 'From the Queen on the throne to some of her humblest subjects, through all ranks of statesmen and politicians of all shades of opinion, from soldiers and from sailors of all grades, and most affectionately from the rank and file of his own historic regiment, from newspapers throughout the length and breadth of the land, from neighbours and friends—and who were not his friends who knew him?—even from opponents; in short, from all classes, the highest and the humblest, came tributes of respect and eulogy, and expressions of sorrow over what seemed, at first thought, his untimely end.'
As it has been well said, 'the simple record of his campaigns and wounds, in the service of Queen and country, would alone be sufficient to confer greatness on any man. His was the truest greatness, because he was so utterly unconscious that it was great; and his extreme modesty, and almost diffidence, obscured it from the merely superficial observer.'
His was the kind of life that exerted a magnetic charm upon all with whom he had dealings. His plain exterior, his somewhat awkward gait and habiliments, more frequently marked by the absence of fashionable conventionality than by military smartness, were a deception to a stranger. 'That the great Captain Wauchope!' said a man on the road one day, when he was pointed out to him as the hero of Tel-el-Kebir—'That Captain Wauchope, impossible! I thought that was a labourer!' Though carrying no outward symbol of what was in him, to his friends he was dear. But we do not always gather diamonds on the surface. ''Tis the mind that makes the body rich.' He seemed best to those who knew him longest, for about his actions there was a sincerity that was all the better because it was spontaneous; and behind that bronzed, ascetic face—said by some to resemble that of Cicero or Cæsar—there was a soul with the courage of a hero and the tenderness of a woman.
In a letter from Dr. Wisely of Malta, we have striking testimony in confirmation of this. 'Wauchope,' he says, 'in a remarkable manner fulfilled the New Testament injunction to "honour all men," and this, I believe, was the secret of his being honoured by all, for he was liked and trusted by all sorts and conditions of men. His brother officers found in him a friend, and so did the men in the ranks. If any man had a grievance he was sure of getting a fair hearing from him. But Wauchope was not easily taken in. I remember seeing him once standing in the street when I was speaking to a man of his regiment, who had seen better days. After the man had left me, he came up and said, "I was just waiting to warn you, lest you should be taken in by that man. He will tell you plausible stories to get money out of you, but don't listen to him. He is a humbug, and is not to be trusted." I found he was right. But when there was real distress, Wauchope was ever ready to do what he could to relieve it, and he did it in the most unostentatious way. In 1878, when he went with his regiment to Cyprus, a man in his company, whom I knew, died of heat apoplexy on landing. Wauchope immediately wrote to me and enclosed a cheque for £10, to be given to the man's widow to help her, as he said, to make a fresh start. I happened to mention this incident recently to a lady, whose husband at one time commanded the regiment, and she said "it was just like Wauchope," and that she knew of many similar cases where his help was as quietly given. On one occasion, when the regiment was in Egypt, he presented a cheque for £200, to be expended, he informed me, for the benefit of the women of the regiment, on the one sole condition that his name should not be mentioned. He had his own way, however, of dispensing charity, and was not afraid to refuse to subscribe to objects merely because other people subscribed and thought he ought to do so too. He judged for himself. And he did so, not only regarding cases of charity, but in whatever he had to do with. Some years ago we happened to be speaking of his tenants in Scotland, and he told me that he made a point of occasionally seeing each one alone, without a factor or any one being present, and he would ask the tenant to speak frankly to him, and let him know of any grievance he had to complain of. He did not promise to agree with him, or to see things in the same light, but he promised to give the case a fair hearing, and to do his best to remedy the grievance, if he was convinced that there was one.'
A religious life
It is not difficult to discern that the secret spring of such a life is to be found not so much in early education, social influences, rank, ample means, or even natural kind-heartedness—though these doubtless had a certain influence in the formation of character—as in that fervent, devout spirit which characterised nearly all that he said or did—in short, from that 'fear of the Lord which is the beginning of wisdom.' Wauchope's life was indeed a deeply religious life. Not religious certainly in the conventional sense of the term, that looks to the repetition of favourite texts of Scripture and the recurrence of pious sentiments; but in the deep-down utterances of a devout heart that sought the expression of his faith rather in deeds of kindness and thoughtful sympathy. His whole life, as we have seen, was saturated with affection for those in life's path who were bound to him by kindred ties, and for whom his quick eye saw his help was needed. Yet, let it be said, he shrank from no opportunity which presented itself of making a good confession before men, or of giving religious comfort, or engaging in religious services, where he might be able to do good. His daily duties, he once remarked to a company of Sabbath-school boys, were largely influenced by his morning devotions. The early training of a Scottish home, with a pious father's example, laid the foundation of a religious life, which after-trouble and affliction more fully developed into ripe conviction, and matured Christian faith. He believed in prayer and in family worship, and it was doubtless this that so much imbued him with strength and courage for many a day of arduous work and patient pain. How else can we explain that trying period of his life when in Malta, with a drawn sword, as it were, hanging over his head, and only a step between him and death? There he sought to know of the doctrine whether it be of God, and with reverent fear put himself into his Saviour's hands, with the desire to do God's will in every duty that fell to him. 'He followed on to know the Lord,' says Dr. Wisely of Malta, 'and he came to know the truth of the Gospel, not only as a truth of faith, but a truth of personal experience.'