Among the memoranda left by Sir John are notes to the effect that when he entered Charterhouse, Thackeray had either just left or was about to leave that school; but Havelock, Leech, and John Murray were his schoolfellows, as also a young Sheridan, who was remembered by him chiefly on account of the readiness with which he would improvise verses on any subject. This boy appears to have been of improvident habits, and was generally in a state of impecuniosity, which debarred him from buying the dainties in which other boys indulged. His schoolfellows would offer to share their tarts, &c., with him if he would make verses in reference to them—to which he would instantly respond with apt rhymes.
During their early school life at Charterhouse the brothers spent their holidays with either of their two grandfathers, the one being the Rector of Hadleigh, Dean Drummond (youngest son of the Archbishop of York of that day, and brother of the ninth Earl of Kinnoull), through whom lay Sir John’s claim to French extraction, as the Dean’s wife was a daughter of the Prince de Vismes et de Ponthieu. Captain J. Thomson was their other and maternal grandfather. A very learned linguist, he had been private secretary to the Marquess of Hastings in India, spoke twenty-five languages, and was author of Etymons of the English Language, which work was completed after his death by his son-in-law, Mr. E. A. Drummond Hay, father of the subject of the present memoir.
At Christmas-time, however, the two boys returned to their parents in Edinburgh, a long, wearisome journey from London, travelling by coach through two days and nights in bitterly cold weather. The return journey to school, in particular, seems to have left a desolate remembrance of arriving in London, cold and stiff after long confinement in the crowded coach, but also a pleasant recollection of the gruff kindness to the young travellers of the guards, who would often forego their customary tip when changing, rather than disturb from their sleep the schoolboys who were going from home.
After the death of Dean Drummond, and the appointment of their father to a foreign post in 1829, the brothers were wont to spend a portion of their holidays at Dupplin Castle with the Earl of Kinnoull, to whom they were then prospective heirs: the elder to the earldom, the younger to the property of Cromlix. In fact, Lord Kinnoull asked their father to allow him to have entire charge of the two boys and of their education, in view of their being his probable successors. But this offer was prudently declined, their father not wishing them—the sons of a poor man—to be brought up amidst surroundings unsuited to adapt them for pushing their own way in life, and in the expectation of a prosperous future which, in their case, might fail to be realised. In this he judged wisely; as, while still in the prime of life, Lord Kinnoull married and had a large family.
The boys, however, continued to spend many happy holidays at Dupplin; posting from Edinburgh to Perth, a pleasanter mode of travelling than by coach.
Another recollection, in connection with their visits to Dupplin, was the ceremonious importance of their attendance at the parish church at Aberdalgie on Sundays. Though only a short distance intervened between this place and the Castle, the family coach, with four horses and postilions, was always prepared, and in this manner the two schoolboys proceeded alone to the church, to occupy on arrival the family ‘sitting,’ and listen, with what patience they might, to the long discourse of the minister.
In 1829 my father was appointed Political Agent and Consul General in Morocco. At that time I was at Charterhouse, and first received the tidings from another boy who had seen the notice in the Gazette. Geography was not taught at Charterhouse, and, as my informant professed ignorance regarding the whereabouts of Morocco, beyond that ‘it was a country in Africa inhabited by naked niggers,’ we got hold of a map and made therein a voyage of discovery until we found Morocco.
My family came up to London from Edinburgh and rented a house in Clarges Street for the season, and my father decided that my elder brother, the late Sir Edward Hay, and I should remain at Charterhouse two or three years longer; then rejoin our family at Tangier, and there be placed under a private tutor.
It was a curious coincidence that before my father was appointed to Morocco, or had indeed any expectation of obtaining any employment in a foreign country, the boys at Charterhouse had nicknamed me ‘Othello,’ or ‘the Moor,’ not only because I was a passionate youngster who resented an injury, but also on account of my dark eyes and hair and olive complexion; typical of a thorough Hay, according to Sir Walter Scott in The Fair Maid of Perth, where he describes the clan as ‘a dark, short race.’
A frigate, H.M.S. Athol, in command of Captain Gordon, conveyed my father and family to Tangier.