John Floyd’s letters are delightful and instructive reading. They reveal a highly intelligent and observant man, a keen soldier, possessing great gentleness of character and a strong affection for his family and friends. He describes the country, its flora and fauna, and writes himself down a pre-Darwinian when he tells Lord Pembroke, “The monkeys are far the most innocent part of the _human species_--for I hope you do not doubt that they are a branch of our family.” He was not wholly dissatisfied with his life in India, though he longed for active service. “When I am to return to England God only knows; I endeavour to avoid thinking of it. I am sensible the chances are against my returning at all. I aim indeed at a little fame, and I would fain return so as to venture to marry.” When in 1790 he was at length ordered to the field, he writes to his sister Elizabeth that he has made all provision for her, “but I do not think I shall die a bit the sooner on this account, for I propose marrying when I go back to England, and having a prodigious number of children.” Floyd commanded the cavalry with distinguished ability during the Mysore campaigns of 1790, 1791, 1792, and 1799. It had always been his opinion that the first military miracle to be performed in India would be wrought by cavalry, that a small body of well-disciplined Europeans on horseback, judiciously led, would defeat and destroy myriads of Indian enemies. During the lull between the campaigns of 1790 and 1791 Floyd found time to carry out the wish that had long been in his heart. He was now forty-three years of age, and had fallen in love with Rebecca Juliana, the beautiful daughter of Charles Darke, a free merchant of Madras. The wedding took place at Madras, 29th January 1791, and in February Floyd was in the field again. There were four children of the marriage, all born in India, three girls--Miranda born in 1792, Julia (the future Lady Peel) in 1795, and Flavia in 1797--and one boy, Henry, born in 1793. Both parents were devoted to their children. Mrs. Floyd attended to them entirely herself, and would not allow a native servant to go near them, for her husband writes: “She unfortunately dislikes all natives, from His Highness the Nawab to the meanest of them.” The children were all healthy and good looking. Mrs. Floyd used to send her husband affectionate little notes about herself--her health was not good--and the children, referring to Julia as a delightful little kitten. These notes, in accordance with the regulations then in force for private letters sent to the army in the field, had to be 2 inches wide by 6-3/8 inches long, and to be rolled, not folded.