During most of 1900 Lord William suffered at intervals from his old complaint contracted in India, namely dysentery, and it was taking all his strength away; that he was feeling very sadly I know, and on a photograph he was signing for a friend he wrote “W. B., 1900, ... and feels it.”
At times he was observed sitting resting before dinner, a most unusual thing for him to do. Unfortunately in December he ate some game that was too high for his delicate state of health, this set up peritonitis, and, in spite of the best advice and most tender nursing, he passed away on the 28th December with a smile for those around him, to the inexpressible grief of all who knew him well, and the sincere regret of all who were lucky enough to have met him.
The specialist, Sir Thomas Lauder Brunton, came down from town several times to see the invalid, and at one time there seemed to be a ray of hope, only to be dashed to the ground again, for the poor, gallant, brave heart for the first time in his life failed him and refused to work any longer. His last race was run, and surely the prize must be his for his many acts of charity not only in kind, but goodness and mercy.
We all knew in his lifetime how generous he was, no begging letter was ever left unanswered; none who begged, whether deserving or not, received a harsh word from him; he was generous to a fault. He never could resist anyone who said they had been in his old regiment the 9th Lancers, though I have grave doubts as to whether some of the suppliants had ever been in the regiment at all. I know that some who begged from him had a good deal of method in laying out their plan of campaign, and waited until Mr. Palmer, who attended to business matters, had gone home, before going to ask for Lord William, knowing that if Mr. Palmer was there the case would be thoroughly enquired into, while if they saw his lordship they knew they could work upon his tender and kind heart. I have been told the following story is true.
Lord William was a Mason, and a brother Mason wanted to see him, and as he had a favour to ask waited until Mr. Palmer had gone home, and in the evening begged to see Lord William who at once interviewed his brother Mason, a tradesman, who told a long tale with a plentiful use of pocket-handkerchief to his eyes; he came away with a cheque for £1000.
Truly life is a book of many pages, not by any means easily read, and it seems all wrong that such generosity should be imposed on, but Lord William always said his sympathies were with all sinners, and he liked to give everyone the benefit of a doubt.
It does not fall to the lot of everyone to be so sincerely mourned, for his wife adored him, his child loved him, his brothers and relations loved him, his servants worshipped him, the old people round Waterford and Curraghmore, to whom it was a red-letter day when Lord William paid them a visit, which he enjoyed as much as they did; the old pensioners at the Royal Hospital, Dublin, who had many times been made happy by a visit from him.
When the sad news became known, messages of sympathy and condolence poured in from the highest in the land to some of the lowliest.
It was not until after his death, when his papers were being attended to, that the extent of his goodness and charity was fully known.
I will not dwell on this sad time, for there is no language great enough for the expression of our mental emotions, and no language that can express the dignity of great grief.