of a century and made a lasting name for themselves under their Eurasian commander. Compton says that to the end of Skinner’s life an old spoon was placed on his breakfast-table every morning to remind him of his humble origin. In fulfilment of a vow he made on the battlefield of Uniara, to build a church to the God of his father if his life was spared, he erected the edifice of St. James’s at Delhi at a cost of 20,000l.
In the same spirit of humility before noted he often expressed a desire that when he died he should be interred not within it, but under the threshold, so that all persons entering might trample upon ‘the chief of sinners.’ He was buried at Hansi where he died, but afterwards his body was removed to Delhi. Here all that was mortal of the gallant old adventurer was met by the civilians and military officers of the station and a vast multitude from the city, and so escorted to its final resting-place.
‘No Emperor of Hindustan,’ said the natives, ‘was ever brought into Delhi in such state as Sikander Sahib.’
He was laid by the side of his old friend and comrade William Fraser, beneath the altar of St. James’s Church.
A still more romantic story is that of the Madras officer, James Achilles Kirkpatrick. In his case it was the lady who proposed marriage.
Kirkpatrick’s father came out to India in 1738 as a free merchant. He belonged to a branch of the family of Kirkpatrick of Closeburn, and lived at Keston, near Bromley in Kent, in his later years. In 1762 he married Katherine, the daughter of Andrew Munro, the Surgeon of Fort St. George; she was considerably younger than her husband. There were three sons born to James Kirkpatrick. Two of them, William and James Achilles, entered the military service of the Company. William became Resident at Hyderabad and James Achilles joined him as Assistant Resident. Colonel William was a
