With the exception of health, Lord Clyde had "all which should accompany old age--honour, love, troops of friends." But he was visibly, if gradually, breaking up. He had never spared himself when duty called, but when the strain slackened with the extinction of the mutiny, his constitution began to fail. His illness in Lucknow after leaving the Nepaul frontier was the first premonition of decay. During his stay in Simla he had begun to relax his custom of early rising and to manifest an indisposition to take his morning walk; while a casual cold, of which a year earlier he would have thought nothing, resulted in a sharp attack of influenza accompanied by fever and inflammation of the eyes. When on his subsequent tour up-country with the Viceroy, he began to evince a disinclination for the saddle, and preferred, contrary to his old predilection, to be driven in a wheeled vehicle. Later, after returning to Europe, he suffered much at times from fever and ague which he traced back to the old Walcheren days; and in the end of 1861 he had a serious illness which left him permanently enfeebled even after he had been pronounced convalescent. Yet he was still able to make long journeys, and he commanded the Volunteer Review on the Brighton Downs on the Easter Monday of 1862, when some twenty thousand men were in the field. He expressed his surprise at the steadiness and intelligence of the citizen soldiery. "It was not," he wrote, "a simple affair of marching past and saluting, but a readiness of movement and facility of change of position not always surpassed by the oldest and most practised troops." This was the last occasion of his appearing at the head of troops in the field. The end of the old warrior came at last somewhat suddenly. Derangement of the heart had been discovered, and in May, 1863, he had an attack of so alarming a character that his medical advisers recommended him to put his affairs in order. Near the end of June he went to Chatham to be with his dearest friends General and Mrs. Eyre. There he gradually grew worse. Almost to the last his memory would revert to the Highland soldiers who were always so eager to follow where he led, and he would express his gratitude for their staunch fidelity to the Chief who loved them so well. When the news of his illness reached the Queen, her Majesty directed Sir Charles Phipps "to say in her name everything to her old, loyal, faithful servant that could be said of sympathy and sincere regard." "He was," added Sir Charles, "a very great favourite of her Majesty; and if he still can listen to such expressions, it may soothe him to hear how deep is the Queen's feeling for him." After several rallies, it became evident about noon of the 14th of August that Lord Clyde was sinking fast; and half an hour later, while his sister, General and Mrs. Eyre, and his faithful soldier-servant White knelt around him, the veteran of many battles calmly passed to his rest.