At the time of the Peninsular campaign a regular crisis occurred in Mellish's affairs, and Sir Rowland Ferguson appointed him his aide-de-camp, and he went out to Spain. Previous to the battle of Vimeiro, as the general officers were dining together, one of them observed to Sir Rowland Ferguson that if the thing were not impossible, he should have declared that an officer he had seen was a gentleman whom he had left a week or two ago in the cockpit at York, with cocks engaged in the main there—his name he had understood was Mr. Mellish. "The very same man," returned Sir Rowland, "he is now my aide-de-camp, and I think you will say, when you have the opportunity of knowing more of him, a better officer will not be found," and this proved to be the case. On many different occasions, indeed, the Duke of Wellington declared that a better aide-de-camp than Mellish he had never observed. The undaunted manner with which he encountered danger, the quickness with which he rode, and the precision with which he delivered his orders, never making any mistake in any moment of hurry or confusion, were circumstances which excited much favourable comment from friend and foe alike.
After the battle of Busaco, Colonel Mellish was sent with a flag of truce to the French head-quarters, on a message respecting some prisoners. On his arrival at Leiria, Massena invited him to dinner, and treated him with great attention and respect.
After remaining some time with the army abroad, Colonel Mellish returned home, and after that period engaged no more in military duties. According to rumour his return was owing to the resumption of his former habits of play, which the Duke of Wellington had forbidden; but this is not certain.
The Prince Regent, who was so often accused of forgetting those who had served him, certainly did not justify this reproach in the case of Colonel Mellish; for on his having obtained a small appointment abroad in one of the conquered islands, the Prince made him his equerry, in order to enable him to enjoy the emoluments of it whilst remaining at home.
In addition to this the uncles of the Colonel, who had undertaken the management of his property when he was abroad, enabled him, by their arrangements, to take up his abode at Hodsock Priory, where he had occasionally lived before, and where at a comparatively early age he ended his days. On his way to this farm he had to pass the magnificent mansion and domain of Blyth, the seat of his ancestors and formerly his own, which the vicissitudes of a Turf career had obliged him to sell.
Colonel Mellish, however, accepted his lot with considerable equanimity, and lived at his somewhat modest abode without any mortifying regrets. Having married one of the daughters of the Marchioness of Lansdowne,[8] who brought him a very handsome fortune, his circumstances again became easy, and he was enabled to indulge in those rural pursuits which appear early and late to have been congenial to his disposition. He took to coursing and established a fine stud of greyhounds. He also bred cattle with great success, winning many prizes at northern cattle shows, and obtaining high prices for his stock, and more fortunate than most men of his disposition and tastes, ended his life in comfort and peace. His death, however, occurred at a comparatively early age, for he fell a victim to dropsy in his thirty-seventh year.
Another gallant sporting man, though of quite another description, was the Anglo-Indian Colonel John Mordaunt, a natural son of the Earl of Peterborough.
John Mordaunt, as a boy, was too wild to learn much at school, his whole time being devoted to playing the truant; as he often said, "one half of his days were spent in being flogged for the other half." Devoted to cards from youth, he received many a castigation in consequence. "You may shuffle, Mordaunt, but I can cut," was the remark made to him by his schoolmaster on more than one occasion.
In consequence of this unsatisfactory behaviour, when the boy left school he was about as learned as when he first was sent there. His guardians were very much annoyed at this and blamed his master, upon which young Mordaunt very handsomely stepped forward to exculpate the latter, whose attention he declared to have been unparalleled. Slipping off his clothes, he exhibited the earnestness of the good man's endeavours; humorously observing, that as nothing could be got into his brains, his master had done his best to impress his instructions on the opposite seat of learning.
When the moment came for the youth to pass muster before the India directors he could not be found, and it was nearly too late when he was at last discovered playing marbles in Dean's Yard. No time, however, was wasted in driving him up to Leadenhall Street, where, more bent on frivolity than on answering the grave questions put by his examiners, he was near being rejected as an idiot, when one of the quorum, who understood such a disposition well and who probably wished to see John appointed, asked him if he understood cribbage. In an instant young Mordaunt's attention was thoroughly roused, his eyes glistened, and regardless of every matter relative to his appointment, he pulled out a pack of cards, so greasy as scarcely to be distinguished, and offered "to play the gentleman for any sum he chose!"