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.dt The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Story of the Highland Regiments, by Frederick Watson
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THE STORY OF THE HIGHLAND REGIMENTS
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BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
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NOVELS.
THE VOICE OF THE TURTLE.
SHALLOWS.
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
MUCKLE JOHN.
THE GHOST ROCK.
HISTORY.
THE BRAES OF BALQUHIDDER.
.sp 2
AGENTS
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America The Macmillan Company
64 & 66 Fifth Avenue, New York
Australasia The Oxford University Press
205 Flinders Lane, Melbourne
Canada The Macmillan Company of Canada, Ltd.
St. Martin’s House, 70 Bond Street, Toronto
India Macmillan & Company, Ltd.
Macmillan Building, Bombay
309 Bow Bazaar Street, Calcutta
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Transcriber’s Note:
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effects. Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_.
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are referenced.
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.ca The Camerons at Fuentes De Onoro.
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[Illustration: THE CAMERONS AT FUENTES DE ONORO.]
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THE STORY OF THE HIGHLAND REGIMENTS
BY FREDERICK WATSON
East and South my children scatter,
North and West the world they wander.
Yet they come back to me,
Come with their brave hearts beating,
Longing to die for me,
Me, the grey, old, weary mother,
Throned amid the Northern waters.
Lauchlan MacLean Watt.
PUBLISHED BY A. & C. BLACK, Ltd.
4, 5, & 6 SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W.
1915
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DEDICATED
TO
THE MEMORY OF MY BROTHER
CAPTAIN HENRY TRELSS WATSON
2ND BATT. KING’S OWN YORKSHIRE LIGHT INFANTRY
WHO FELL AT YPRES, MARCH 6, 1915
The profits accruing from the sale of this book
for the duration of the War
will be devoted to the Officers’ Families Fund.
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.h2 id=preface title='Preface'
PREFACE
.sp 2
It is a perplexing thing when the making of
history is often terrible, sometimes tragic, but
hardly ever tedious, that the reading of history
should be considered uniformly grey. In compiling
the present book I shrank from the word
‘History’—I altered it to ‘Story.’ It is the same
thing, but it does not sound so depressing.
The Story of the Highland Regiments is not
merely a narrative of regimental gallantry—it is
also the story of our Empire for nearly two
hundred years, the story of strange lands and
peoples, of heroism and endurance, of the open
sea and the frontier. It is even more than that—it
is the story of self-sacrifice, of courage, of
patriotism.
Long ago, when my father related to me how,
as a little boy, he had watched the Highlanders
march into Edinburgh after the Crimean War, I
determined to secure a book that would tell me,
in simple words, without any dates whatever,
about the ‘Thin Red Line’ at Balaclava, the
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relief of Lucknow, and the charge of the Greys.
It was just because no such book existed that I
was encouraged to write a narrative history that
would cover, no matter how slightly, the entire
period.
Whatever may be the faults of this book
there are pictures, and there are not many dates.
I have also, where I could, allowed the actual
combatants or eye-witnesses to tell their story in
their own way, and on occasions I have inserted
verses that have either won popularity or deserve
to do so.
It is also my hope that, despite the simplicity
of treatment, this story of the campaigns in
which the Highland regiments took their part,
will interest not only young people, but, for the
sentiment of all things Scottish, their elders too.
In some chapters minor campaigns may appear
to receive an undue attention, and greater wars,
such as the Peninsular, to be treated in outline.
The reason for this is obvious. This record must
follow in the footsteps of the Highland regiments,
and the greater the campaign the less accentuated
are individual achievements. For this reason,
too, I have not attempted to treat the present
War in any detail, for no detail is so far to hand,
and in the vast forces raised since August 1914
the Highland regiments have passed into armies,
and cannot be treated as single battalions. But
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already one thing calls for no chronicler. Never
since those old days when the clans first fought
beneath the British flag has the imperishable
star of the Highland regiments—whether of the
Old Army or the New, Colonial or Territorial—gleamed
more steadily throughout the long night
of War. In answer to the last and greatest
summons of the Fiery Cross, the tramp of marching
feet came sounding from the farthest outposts
of the Empire.
Of the books that have provided me with
much of my working material I must acknowledge
as the basis of this volume Browne’s History of
the Highlands, vol. iv., Cromb’s The Highland
Brigade, Archibald Forbes’ The Black Watch,
the various regimental records, and for their
respective campaigns—Maclean’s Highlanders in
America, Napier’s War in the Peninsular, Dr.
Fitchett’s Wellington’s Men and The Tale of the
Great Mutiny, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s
The Great Boer War. For the chapter on Afghanistan
I have drawn upon Miss Brooke-Hunt’s
Biography of Lord Roberts, and for the last
chapter I have to thank the proprietors of
the Scotsman for permission to quote some
extracts from their files. I should also like to
express my indebtedness to many other writers,
whose books I have named where possible in
the text.
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There are those whose personal assistance has
saved me much labour. In particular are my
thanks due to my wife, who has collected much
material and revised the proof sheets.
FREDERICK WATSON.
September 1915.
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.h2 title='Contents'
CONTENTS
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.ta l:40 r:8
Preface | #v:preface#
1. The Formation of the Black Watch | #1:chap01#
2. Flanders and Fontenoy | #8:chap02#
3. The Black Watch at Ticonderoga | #17:chap03#
4. With Wolfe and Fraser’s Highlanders at Quebec | #26:chap04#
5. Red Indian Warfare | #33:chap05#
6. The American War of Independence | #43:chap06#
7. With the Highland Light Infantry at Seringapatam | #55:chap07#
8. The Winning of the Hackle | #63:chap08#
9. With Abercromby in Egypt | #70:chap09#
10. The Retreat on Corunna | #79:chap10#
11. The Camerons in the Peninsular | #91:chap11#
12. The Gordons at Quatre Bras | #105:chap12#
13. With Wellington at Waterloo | #114:chap13#
14. The Highland Brigade at the Alma | #126:chap14#
15. The ‘Thin Red Line’ at Balaclava | #135:chap15#
16. From Meerut to Cawnpore | #142:chap16#
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17. With Sir Colin Campbell and the Sutherlands to Lucknow | #158:chap17#
18. With Wolseley and the Black Watch to Coomassie | #178:chap18#
19. With Roberts and the Seaforths in Afghanistan | #187:chap19#
20. Majuba Hill | #204:chap20#
21. The Highland Brigade at Tel-el-Kebir | #212:chap21#
22. From El-Teb to Omdurman | #218:chap22#
23. Chitral and Dargai | #234:chap23#
24. Outbreak of War in South Africa | #241:chap24#
25. The Highland Brigade at Magersfontein | #255:chap25#
26. Paardeberg and the Gordons at Ladysmith | #264:chap26#
27. With Sir Ian Hamilton to Pretoria | #277:chap27#
28. The Greatest War | #288:chap28#
Index | #313:index#
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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
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1. The Camerons at Fuentes de Oñoro (p. 95) | #Frontispiece:frontis#
2. A Highland Chief | #4:chief#
3. The Black Watch at Ticonderoga | #22:tico#
4. The Highland Light Infantry at Seringapatam | #60:sering#
5. The Gordons at Quatre Bras | #112:quatre#
6. The Sutherland Highlanders at Lucknow | #166:sutherland#
7. The Seaforths at Candahar | #202:candahar#
8. The Argyll and Sutherlands entering Boulogne, August 1914 | #294:argyll#
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.h2 id=chap01 title='1. The Formation of the Black Watch'
CHAPTER I | THE FORMATION OF THE BLACK WATCH
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Let the ancient hills of Scotland
Hear once more the battle-song
Swell within their glens and valleys
As the clansmen march along!
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The Highland Regiments have always enjoyed
a world-wide popularity quite apart from the
quality of their achievements. This popularity
is due to the appeal of imagination and romance.
The spectacle of a Highland regiment, its pipes
playing, and the kilts swinging file by file, recalls
the old days when the clans rose for the Stuarts.
The Highland dress is not only linked for all time
with Lucknow, Balaclava, and Quatre Bras, but,
stepping farther backward, with Culloden, Killiecrankie,
and Glencoe. People unacquainted with
uniforms find a difficulty in recognising certain
English line regiments whose records are the
glory of our military history. But the Highlander,
beyond his distinctive regiment, carries in the
memories aroused a passport to popular favour.
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Fortunately the Highland Regiments have
earned by more than glamour the admiration of
Britain. In campaigns extending over the last
hundred and fifty odd years the Highlanders
have borne their share of the fighting, and whenever
the call has come have proved themselves
‘second to none.’
It was in the eighteenth century that the
Jacobites rose for the last time against the
King of England, and whatever the rights or
wrongs of the rebellion, the loyalty and bravery
of the clans will for ever remain undimmed by
time. Loyalty may make mistakes, but it is
none the less noble for that, and when the ‘45 was
over it was the sons of the men who died for
Prince Charlie who were ready to fight for King
George.
It is most important to understand, no matter
how simply, the broad characteristics of the clan
system, an established order of things that,
in mid-eighteenth century times, the Government
considered most dangerous to the peace of
England. Their reason for thinking so is not hard
to seek. Instead of a peaceful, pastoral country,
the Highlands were an armed camp. In the
twentieth century, when strong active men are
needed so badly, such an organisation would have
been of the greatest value; then it was rightly
regarded as a menace both to the Lowlands and
to the English throne.
The clan was composed of a large or sometimes
comparatively small number of people
bearing the same name, and sworn to obey the
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Chief, whose word was absolute, and whose
greatest ambition was the number of swords he
could summon to his side.
The Highlander took little interest in tilling
or reaping. He left that chiefly to the women.
His bearing and instincts were those of a gentleman,
while his ruling desire was to engage
in fighting. He was proud, indolent, but faithful
to the death. The chiefs, who dreaded the
loss of their power more than anything else, and
were not so blind as to believe that progress could
be indefinitely defied, rose for the cause of the
Stuarts with the gambler’s hope that the old days
might remain a little longer.
Every one knows how the clans rallied to the
standard of Prince Charlie, of their march into
England, and of their defeat by the Duke of
Cumberland, who was the Prince’s cousin.
The battle of Culloden was to seal the doom
of the clan system, and to prepare the way for
the history of the Highland Regiments. It was
Pitt who ‘sought for merit’ in the wild mountains
of Scotland, and no finer recruiting ground
could have been discovered. The Highlander
was distinguished for his loyalty, his bravery,
and his conservatism. War and hunting were
his employment, but underneath his fiery temperament
lay a deep vein of self-sacrifice and poetry.
That none of those poor people gave up their
Prince for gold is wonderful enough. That they
never forgot him is more precious than all the
treasures in the world.
The love of the Celt for the place of his birth
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provided one of the most tragic periods in our
history. Emigration, ruin, and the end of the
clan system inspired some of the most beautiful
and moving songs in our language. The point,
therefore, that must be emphasised at the moment
is the poetic temperament of the Gael, his love of
romance, of old tales, of old times, of bravery, of
loyalty, and of leading an active life.
It was just through this love of adventure
that cattle-raiding continued during the first half
of the eighteenth century, and that is why
people on the border line paid ‘blackmail.’ In
modern life one of the most valuable resolves to
make is never, under any circumstances, to pay
blackmail; never, that is, to allow freedom of
action or will to pass into the hands of another
person. Payment of blackmail once, invariably
means payment for always. But in the Highlands
there was no such ignominy attached to the
word. Blackmail carried with it protection from
theft, not shelter from disgrace. It was paid in
much the same way as a citizen pays the Government
taxes to provide policemen to guard his
house. From the year 1725 onwards law-abiding
people in the Highlands congratulated themselves,
in all good faith, upon the excellent work
that certain newly raised companies of Government
militia were doing in keeping the district
quiet. These companies were called the ‘Black
Watch,’ partly because of their dark tartan, partly
owing to the nature of their duties.
.if h
.il fn=i_004.jpg id=chief w=60% alt='Chief'
.ca A Highland Chief
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[Illustration: A HIGHLAND CHIEF]
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Let us see what kind of corps this was. With
the hope that some display of authority would
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quell the simmering spirit of revolt in the Highlands,
the Government, at the suggestion of an
ardent Hanoverian, decided in the year 1725 to
raise a local force officered by Highland gentry.
It was an insignificant body at first, but from
time to time further companies were added,
until in the year 1740 it was embodied under the
number of the 43rd, to be changed some years
later to the 42nd. In this fashion, and simply as
a vigilance corps, the ‘Black Watch,’ a regiment
that has carved its name upon the tablets of
history and romance, came to be formed.
It may seem strange that the marauding
habits of the clansmen should have come so
admirably beneath the discipline of the army.
The secret is not far to seek. The qualities that
bound the clansmen to the chief were simply
transferred to the new regime. No finer, simpler,
more powerful tribute to these qualities could
be found than in the words of General Stewart
of Garth, written a century ago, but not without
force at the present time:
“In forming his military character, the Highlander
was not more favoured by nature than by
the social system under which he lived. Nursed
in poverty, he acquired a hardiness which
enabled him to sustain severe privations. As
the simplicity of his life gave vigour to his body,
so it fortified his mind. Possessing a frame and
constitution thus hardened, he was taught to
consider courage as the most honourable virtue,
cowardice the most disgraceful failing; to
venerate and obey his chief, and to devote himself
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for his native country and clan, and thus prepared
to be a soldier he was ready wherever honour
and duty called him. With such principles, and
regarding any disgrace he might bring on his clan
and district as the most cruel misfortune, the
Highland private soldier had a peculiar motive
to exertion. The common soldier of many other
countries has scarcely any other stimulus to the
performance of his duty than the fear of chastisement,
or the habit of mechanical obedience to
command, produced by the discipline by which
he has been trained.... The German soldier
considers himself as part of the military machine,
and duly marked out in the orders of the day.
He moves onward to his destination with a well-trained
pace, and with his phlegmatic indifference
to the result as a labourer who works for
his daily hire. The courage of the French soldier
is supported in the hour of trial by his high
notions of the point of honour, but this display
of spirit is not always steady: neither French
nor German is confident in himself if an enemy
gain his flank or rear. A Highland soldier
faces his enemy whether in front, rear, or flank,
and if he has confidence in his commander it
may be predicted with certainty that he will be
victorious, or die on the ground which he
maintains.”[#]
.sp 2
After the ‘45, when the last dream of the
marauders was for ever shattered, the Highlands,
possessing such unequalled military qualities of
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physique and imagination, were to prove a magnificent
recruiting ground for the British Army.
Not only the Black Watch but many other
regiments were raised for the Government, and
the military spirit was, by the genius of Pitt,
guided into legitimate and honourable warfare.
.sp 2
.ce
THE BATTLE HONOURS OF THE BLACK WATCH (ROYAL HIGHLANDERS)
Guadeloupe, 1759; Martinique, 1762; Havannah; North
America, 1763-1764; Mysore, Mangalore, Seringapatam,
Corunna, Busaco, Fuentes de Oñoro, Pyrenees, Nivelle,
Nive, Orthez, Toulouse, Peninsula, Waterloo; South Africa,
1846-1847, 1851-1853; Alma, Sevastopol, Lucknow, Ashanti;
Egypt, 1882-1884; Tel-el-Kebir; Nile, 1884-1885;
Kirbekan; South Africa, 1899-1902; Paardeberg.
.fn #
Sketches of the Highlanders of Scotland.
.fn-
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.h2 id=chap02 title='2. Flanders and Fontenoy (1745)'
CHAPTER II | FLANDERS AND FONTENOY | (1745)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Hail, gallant regiment! Freiceadan Dubh,
Whenever Albion needs thine aid
‘Aye ready!’ for whatever foe
Shall dare to meet the black brigade!
Witness disastrous Fontenoy;
When all seemed lost, who brought us through?
Who saved defeat? secured retreat?
And bore the brunt?—The Forty-Two.
Dugald Dhu.
.pm verse-end
.pm letter-start
On the head of Frederick (the Great) is all the blood which was
shed in a war which raged during many years, and in every
quarter of the globe—the blood of the column of Fontenoy, the
blood of the brave mountaineers who were slaughtered at
Culloden. The evils produced by his wickedness were felt in
lands where the name of Prussia was unknown; and in order
that he might rob a neighbour whom he had promised to defend,
black men fought on the coast of Coromandel, and red men
scalped each other by the great lakes of North America.—Macaulay.
.pm letter-end
Flanders was not altogether unknown in the
historic sense to the men of the North, and the
‘cockpit of Europe,’ as it has been named for
its successive tragedies of war, has been fated to
become too often the Scottish soldier’s grave.
Campaign after campaign has raged across its
fertile country-side, leaving in its trail desolation
and despair.
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It is outside the story of the Highland Regiments
to discuss the political situation at the
time when the Stuart cause was for ever crushed.
What must not be overlooked, however, is that the
French appeared more interested in the Jacobite
Rebellion than could be attributed entirely to
friendly feelings towards Prince Charles. No
more ominous sign of how the wind really blew
could be cited than the way in which Louis XV.,
King of France, hustled the unhappy young man
out of the country in his hour of failure. The
reason for his attitude was simple enough—the
Highland trouble was but an incident in the
European situation, no more than a pawn in the
great game of war. After many years of unbroken
peace and prosperity, the fall of Walpole
made way for the ambitions of the Earl of
Chatham, whom we have already quoted as Pitt
the Elder. Pitt was naturally proud of the
newly coined name of ‘patriot,’ and during his
time of office, which opened with the ‘War of
Jenkins’s Ear’ and closed with the disastrous
rebellion of the American colonies, there was
hardly a breathing-space of peace.
The time inevitably arises when a great
and vigorous country must expand or perish.
England had set her heart on expansion, and at
this period there was ample space in the world
for the formation of colonies. The only rival
was France, and a very brave and dangerous
rival she was to prove. For the next half-century
the struggle for supremacy was fated to carry
bloodshed into many corners of the world.
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In the War of the Austrian Succession, England
assisted Maria Theresa to defend her throne
against the forces of France, Bavaria, and Prussia,
while from this time the rivalry with France
became increasingly fierce, both in Europe and
America. The conflict resolved itself into a
prolonged struggle on land and sea, with the
main seat of operations in India and Canada.
The curtain went down on the long drama at
Waterloo.
At this period we were at war with Prussia,
whereas sixty odd years later Wellington awaited
the timely advance of Blücher. Again another
hundred years and the British forces were to
approach the same fateful field, but this time
allied with their old enemies the French.
We are faced, therefore, by the history of nearly
fifty years of the building of the British Empire,
and the corresponding downfall of France in
America and India.
At this time we possessed twelve colonies
along the American coast, including the township
of New York. The colonists in this district
were a simple, industrious people, principally
descendants of those early Puritans who had
sailed across the Atlantic in the Mayflower.
They lived in constant dread of the Red Indians,
but in no less dread of the French, whose own
colonies were in close proximity, while beyond
the Great Lakes was French Canada.
There were very many more English colonists
than Frenchmen, but the latter possessed the
advantage of closer intimacy with the Indians,
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who proved a powerful and active ally and a
cruel and revengeful enemy.
We shall therefore follow the fortunes of the
Highlanders through the long struggle with
France, first on the Continent and in America,
leaving the position in India for a later chapter.
.sp 2
There must be few, if any, to whom the name
of Flanders does not instantly recall in all its
tragic significance the heroism of Belgium.
How often will the old familiar lines, asking the
old unanswered question, recur throughout the
coming chapters.
.pm verse-start
“And everybody praised the Duke
Who such a fight did win.”
“But what good came of it at last?”
Quoth little Peterkin.
“Why, that I cannot tell,” said he;
“But ’twas a famous victory.”
.pm verse-end
It is well for us to keep that unhappy country
before our minds, for we shall return from time
to time to the conflicts that have thundered
themselves into the great silence.
In 1743-44 the Black Watch embarked for the
Continent, and in May 1745, after some two years’
service with Marshal Wade, the 42nd assembled
with the Allied Army under the command of the
Duke of Cumberland. The force consisted of
British, Hanoverians, Dutch, and Austrians.
The French army was commanded by the famous
Marshal Saxe, the scene of battle being in the
neighbourhood of Fontenoy. The Duke of
Cumberland, who was ever an impetuous and
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.pn +1
courageous though not very skilful leader, opened
the engagement, and for a considerable time
pressed the French, hurling them out of their
entrenchments at the point of the bayonet, while
the Highlanders wielded their claymores with
remarkable effect. In this, their first taste of
disciplined warfare the eyes of Europe were
upon them.
The point at which the Highlanders and
Guards were launched was speedily taken, but
things went less happily elsewhere. The cavalry
under General Campbell suffered a reverse—the
Dutch and Austrians reeled back before the
French fire—the fortunes of the day were dependent
upon the British.
Presently came the dramatic and magnificent
advance of the British infantry with the Black
Watch upon the extreme right. With measured
tread and set faces they came on. Their ranks
were ploughed and broken with shot, but re-forming
in silence they drew ever nearer to the French.
It was then that Lord Charles Hay of the 1st
Guards turned to the men beside him crying,
“Men of the King’s Company, these are the
French Guards, and I hope you are going to beat
them to-day.”
He was not disappointed. Not for the first
time, nor for the last, the English Guards hurled
back the pick of the Continental soldiers in
confusion.
Saxe, dreading a reverse, ordered his horse,
and, supported by a man on either side because
of his bodily weakness, rode forward to lead up
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the veteran troops of France, knowing well the
inspiration that his presence would bring. And
at that moment the British artillery slackened its
fire, thus giving an opportunity to the famous
Irish Brigade to win or lose the cause of France.
The Irish Brigade was composed of men for
the most part of good family, who had left
the country of their birth to follow King James
into exile. They were magnificent troops,
inflamed by a deadly hatred of England, and
always ready to avenge the wrongs that they
believed they had suffered at English hands.
Their advance was practically invincible, and
before very long they took ample revenge for the
severe drubbing they had received at Dettingen
two years before. With shouts of ‘Remember
Limerick!’ they broke like an angry sea upon
the English flank, which stood stubbornly until
retreat was seen to be inevitable. Soon the
French cavalry were pouring down upon the English
withdrawal, and at that critical situation the
hour of the Black Watch dawned. It was due
to the bravery of the Highland regiment that the
English forces were not driven into irretrievable
confusion. Captain John Munro of the 43rd
has written of the day’s work: “We got within
musket shot of their batteries, when we received
three full fires of their batteries and small arms,
which killed us forty men and one ensign. Here
we were obliged to skulk behind houses and
hedges for about an hour and a half, waiting for
the Dutch, who, when they came up, behaved but
so and so. Our regiment being in some disorder,
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I wanted to draw them up in rear of the Dutch,
which their general would scarce allow of; but
at last I did it, and marched them again to the
front. In half an hour after the Dutch gave way,
and Sir Robert Munro thought proper we should
retire; for we had then the whole batteries from
the enemy’s ground playing upon us, and three
thousand foot ready to fall upon us. We retired;
but before we had marched thirty yards, we had
orders to return to the attack, which we did; and
in about ten minutes after had orders to march
directly with all expedition, to assist the Hanoverians....
The British behaved well; we (the
Highlanders) were told by his royal highness
that we did our duty well.
“By two of the clock we all retreated; and
we were ordered to cover the retreat as the only
regiment that could be kept to their duty, and in
this affair we lost sixty more; but the Duke
made so friendly and favourable a speech to us,
that if we had been ordered to attack their lines
afresh, I dare say our poor fellows would have
done it.”[#]
So much for the Highlanders. But what did
the French think of them? “It must be owned,”
says one, “that our forces were thrice obliged to
give way, and nothing but the good conduct and
extreme calmness of Marshal Saxe could have
brought them to the charge the last time, which
was about two o’clock, when the Allies in their
turn gave way. Our victory may be said to be
complete; but it cannot be denied, that, as the
// Page 031.png
.pn +1
Allies behaved extremely well, more especially
the English, so they made a soldier like retreat
which was much favoured by an adjacent wood.
The British behaved well, and could be exceeded
in ardour by none but our officers, who animated
the troops by their example, when the Highland
furies rushed in upon us with more violence than
ever did a sea driven by a tempest.”
One can appreciate how much the French were
impressed by the Highlanders by the exploit of
one of the Black Watch who killed nine Frenchmen
with his claymore, and was only prevented
from continuing by the loss of his arm.
But half the success was due to the discretion
of Sir Robert Munro, of Fowlis, who allowed
his Highlanders to engage in their own way, a
method of fighting that greatly upset the enemy.
He “ordered the whole regiment to clap to
the ground on receiving the French fire, and
instantly after its discharge they sprang up, and
coming close to the enemy poured in shot upon
them to the certain destruction of multitudes,
then retreating, drew up again, and attacked a
second time in the same manner. These attacks
they repeated several times the same day, to the
surprise of the whole army. Sir Robert was
everywhere with his regiment notwithstanding
his great corpulency, and, when in the trenches,
he was hauled out by the legs and arms by his
own men; and it is observed that when he commanded
the whole regiment to clap to the ground,
he himself alone, with the colours behind him,
stood upright, receiving the whole fire of the
// Page 032.png
.pn +1
enemy, and this because although he could easily
lie down, his great bulk would not suffer him to
rise so quickly.”
The prospect of invasion has been so very
critical within our own recollection that it is
interesting to recall that, after the campaign in
Flanders, the Black Watch returned to England,
and in view of the contemplated descent of the
French upon the coast, was stationed along the
cliffs of Kent.
The dispersal of the Jacobite forces at Culloden
left the Duke of Cumberland free to return to the
Continent, where he stationed his army to cover
Bergen-op-Zoom and Maestricht, while Saxe
encamped between Mechlin and Louvain.
The Highland regiment, however, saw very
little fighting during this campaign, and was
shortly withdrawn to England. In 1749 the
Black Watch assumed the world-famed regimental
number of the 42nd.
.fn #
Culloden Papers, No. ccxliii.
.fn-
// Page 033.png
.pn +1
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap03 title='3. The Black Watch at Ticonderoga (1758)'
CHAPTER III | THE BLACK WATCH AT TICONDEROGA | (1758)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
There fell a war in a woody place,
Lay far across the sea,
A war of the march in the mirk midnight
And the shot from behind the tree,
The shaven head and the painted face,
The silent foot in the wood,
In a land of a strange, outlandish tongue
That was hard to be understood.
R. L. Stevenson.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
The rivalry between our nation and the French
died down upon the Continent, but burst into
flame in North America, and it is to that wild
and unknown country—for so it was in the
year 1756—that we must follow the Black
Watch.
The Expeditionary Force was under the command
of a singularly incompetent General named
Sir James Abercrombie, and landed at New York
after many weary weeks’ journey. The appearance
of the Highlanders created a tremendous
sensation, particularly amongst the Red Indians,
who displayed the keenest interest in their
dress, and were ready to accept them as brothers-in-arms.
It must also be recalled that many
// Page 034.png
.pn +1
Highlanders had emigrated during the years
succeeding 1745, so one can take it for granted
that the Black Watch were warmly received by
their kinsfolk in the New World.
The French forces were commanded by the
gallant Marquis de Montcalm, who in 1756, acting
with his usual promptitude, had captured Fort
Ontario, a success clouded over by the ill-treatment
of the British soldiers by the Red Indians.
In 1757 the only incident worthy of note was the
fall of Fort William Henry.
So far our enemies had succeeded, and the
Government, irritated by this unsatisfactory
state of affairs, fitted out a further naval and
military force of some fifteen thousand men.
The British force in America was divided into
three expeditions. We shall deal briefly with
each in turn. But for fear that hard facts
may obscure the romantic setting, it will be just
as well to sketch the features of the country in
which these undertakings played their part. It
had all the, wonder of a virgin land. It was
there that—
.pm verse-start
Soldiers and priests in the grim bivouac—
A handful dreaming in the wilderness—
In fancy reached Quebec and Tadousac
And told of great exploits, of long duresse,
Of Fort St. Louis’ graves, of sore distress,
Of France’s venture in the southern land.[#]
.pm verse-end
Vast lakes and rivers, mountains and cañons,
not unlike to the glens the Highlanders had left
in Scotland, confronted them. In the deep stillness
.pn +1 // Page 035.png
of the woods wild animals slipped into the
darkness, and savages were a sleepless menace.
In the dead of a summer night the long-drawn cry
of an Indian brave would chill the blood of some
straggling soldier, or from the thicket would fly
the arrows of death. It was a country where
one force could not hope to keep in touch with
another nor guard its lines of communication:
an army was swallowed up in a wilderness of
forests and rivers. In such circumstances each
man carried his life and the lives of his comrades
in his hands, for defeat meant annihilation
or capture, and it would be better to fall into
the hands of the French than to be tracked down
by their ruthless allies the Indians. “Here
were no English woodlands, no stretches of pale
green turf, no vistas opening beneath flattened
boughs, with blue distant hills, and perhaps a
group of antlers topping the bracken. The wild
life of these forests crawled among thickets or
lurked in sinister shadows. No bird poured out
its heart in them; no lark soared out of them,
breasting heaven. At rare intervals a note fell
on the ear—the scream of hawk or eagle, the
bitter cackling laugh of blue jay or woodpecker,
the loon’s ghostly cry—solitary notes, and unhappy,
as though wrung by pain out of the
choking silence; or away on the hillside a grouse
began drumming, or a duck went whirring down
the long waterway until the sound sank and was
overtaken by the river’s slow murmur.
“When night had hushed down these noises,
the forest would be silent for an hour or two,
.pn +1 // Page 036.png
and then awake more horribly with the howling
of wolves.”[#]
.sp 2
We now come to one of those episodes of
reckless bravery that have immortalised the
Highland regiments—an engagement that was
to ring throughout England, bringing a new
renown to the Black Watch. It is associated
with a place bearing the strange and musical
name of Ticonderoga—‘the meeting of the
waters.’ Many years before our story the
famous Frenchman Champlain had nearly suffered
defeat in that dreaded country of the Iroquois.
Many years had passed since then, and now
Ticonderoga was held by the French. How
difficult a place it was to storm will be gathered
from the following description:
“Fort Ticonderoga stands on a tongue of
land between Lake Champlain and Lake George,
and is surrounded on three sides by water; part
of the fourth side is protected by a morass, the
remaining part was strongly fortified with high
entrenchments, supported and flanked by three
batteries, and the whole front of that part which
was accessible was intersected by deep traverses,
and blocked up with felled trees, with their
branches turned outwards, forming together a
most formidable defence.”
It was rendered not less hazardous because
Abercrombie did not take the trouble to employ
ordinary precautions. He could have stormed
the place with artillery, attacked it on the flank,
.pn +1 // Page 037.png
or cut Montcalm’s line of communications. He
did none of these things. In other words, he
trusted to the bravery of his soldiers to achieve
what was practically impossible. Embarking
his troops on Lake George, he made his way down
the still and placid lake, landing without opposition.
The very silence was ominous.
In the meantime Montcalm was straining
every nerve to prepare for the coming struggle.
With him were a comparatively large force of
French and several hundred Canadians, while
a further reinforcement was hourly expected.
On the report that the defences of Ticonderoga
were still unfinished, Abercrombie decided upon
an instant attack. The English attacking force,
composed of the Grenadiers with the Highlanders
in reserve, advanced heroically to the assault,
only to discover that the entrenchments were
far stronger than had been anticipated. Montcalm
waited until the English were within a
close distance of the garrison before giving
the order to fire. The British were mown down
in hundreds. Again and again they charged, to
fall in heaps at the foot of the stockades. Even
now Abercrombie would not give up the insane
attack. So far the Black Watch had taken no
part, but the time soon came when they could
restrain their impatience no longer, and, gripping
their broadswords and Lochaber axes, they
broke into a charge. Madly they rushed at the
stockade, only to find, like their comrades, that
it was practically unscalable. They were dauntless
in their despair. By scrambling upon each
.pn +1 // Page 038.png
other’s shoulders a few managed to enter the
enclosure and were instantly killed by the French.
After a forlorn struggle, in which the Black
Watch lost some 300 men killed with over 300
wounded, Abercrombie resolved to retire. He
had attempted to take a position impregnable
without a bombardment. Well might the French
commander remark: “Had I to besiege Ticonderoga,
I would ask for but six mortars and two
pieces of artillery.” Abercrombie had the
artillery, but did not trouble to bring it up.
“The affair at Fontenoy,” says Lieutenant
Grant of the Black Watch, “was nothing to it:
I saw both. We laboured under insurmountable
difficulties. The enemy’s breastwork was
about nine or ten feet high, upon the top of
which they had plenty of wall pieces fixed, and
which was well lined on the inside with small
arms. But the difficult access to their lines was
what gave them a fatal advantage over us.
They took care to cut down monstrous large oak
trees which covered all the ground from the
foot of their breastwork about the distance of a
cannon-shot every way in their front. This not
only broke our ranks, and made it impossible for
us to keep our order, but put it entirely out of
our power to advance till we cut our way through.
I have seen men behave with courage and resolution
before now, but so much determined
bravery can hardly be equalled in any part of
the history of ancient Rome. Even those that
were mortally wounded cried aloud to their companions
not to mind or lose a thought upon them,
.pn +1 // Page 041.png
but to follow their officers, and to mind the
honour of their country. Nay, their ardour
was such, that it was difficult to bring them
off. They paid dearly for their intrepidity.
The remains of the regiment had the honour to
cover the retreat of the army, and brought off
the wounded as we did at Fontenoy. When
shall we have so fine a regiment again?”
.if h
.il fn=i_022.jpg id=tico w=60% alt='Battle scene'
.ca The Black Watch at Ticonderoga
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: THE BLACK WATCH AT TICONDEROGA]
.if-
On Independence Day 1906, in the Carnegie
Public Library at Ticonderoga, a tablet was
unveiled commemorating the gallantry and the
severe casualties of the Black Watch in July
1758, a calamity comparable to that of Magersfontein
in 1899.
Here, as throughout our story, was displayed
a reckless bravery under trying conditions, an
uncomplaining heroism under fire, a simple pride
in the honour of the regiment.
“With a mixture of esteem, and grief, and
envy,” says an officer, “I consider the great
loss and immortal glory acquired by the Scots
Highlanders in the late bloody affair. Impatient
for orders they rushed forward to the entrenchments,
which many of them actually mounted.
They appeared like lions breaking from their
chains. Their intrepidity was rather animated
than damped by seeing their comrades fall on
every side.”
It was following this gallant exploit the news
came that for past valuable services the regiment
was to be called ‘the Royal Highland Regiment
of Foot.’ After Ticonderoga it was doubly
worthy of such recognition.
.pn +1 // Page 042.png
The second expedition—that against Louisburg,
in which Fraser’s Highlanders served—sailed from
Halifax on May 28, 1758, and after a stormy
passage effected a landing under General Wolfe.
The town surrendered after a considerable
bombardment, great gallantry being shown by
the Highlanders engaged.
The third expedition, against Fort Duquesne,
was under the command of Brigadier-General
John Forbes. The British force, amongst whom
were Montgomery’s Highlanders, were confronted
by almost impenetrable country, but that did not
prove so great a danger as the foolhardiness that
led the commander to belittle the strength of the
enemy. It was rumoured that the French garrison
was limited to 800 men, largely composed of
Indians. A party of Highlanders, under Major
James Grant, and a company of Virginians
marched cheerfully ahead to reconnoitre. The
honest strains of the bagpipes warned the
enemy for miles around that the Highlanders
were approaching. Instant preparation being
made for their arrival, they walked into an
ambuscade. A fierce fire from the dense undergrowth
raked their closed ranks unmercifully.
Major Grant, who appears to have taken no
precautions whatever, was captured, while the
ranks of the Highlanders were decimated. A
retreat, humiliating though it was, was the
only course, and this reverse so disheartening
that the British commander determined to
abandon any further advance. It fell to George
Washington, at this time a young man of
.pn +1 // Page 043.png
twenty-six, accompanied by Provincials, and
a detachment of Highlanders, to retrieve the
failure of the former expedition. His march
was a notable one. It was in dead of winter,
and the hills were white with snow. Defeat,
as always in that country, spelt ruin and death,
but the little force pressed onwards, determined
to succeed, and to regain the prestige of the
British arms. Nearer and nearer they came to
the enemy. Suddenly, one evening, a sullen
glow of firelight shot up into the sky. The disheartened
garrison had set fire to Fort Duquesne,
and taken flight upon the Ohio. This was
hardly a satisfactory conclusion for the British
force, already short of provisions, but amidst
the smouldering ashes Washington planted the
flag of England, naming the place Pittsburg, after
the Prime Minister.
The time had at last dawned for a decisive
movement. Abercrombie had been succeeded
by General Amherst, who planned a second
assault upon Ticonderoga. To General Wolfe
was allotted the almost impossible task of
storming Quebec. General Prideaux was to
advance against the French position near the
Falls of Niagara.
General Amherst, with whom were the Black
Watch, secured an easy triumph in taking
possession of Ticonderoga, already deserted by
the French, and thus obtained a naval security
upon the lakes.
The expedition of General Wolfe deserves a
separate chapter.
.fn #
W. T. Allison.
.fn-
.fn #
Fort Amity, Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch.
.fn-
.pn +1 // Page 044.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap04 title="4. With Wolfe and Fraser’s Highlanders At Quebec (1759)"
CHAPTER IV | WITH WOLFE AND FRASER’S HIGHLANDERS AT QUEBEC | (1759)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Quebec, the grey old city on the hill,
Lies with a golden glory on her head,
Dreaming throughout this hour so fair, so still,
Of other days and all her mighty dead.
The white doves perch upon the cannons grim,
The flowers bloom where once did run a tide
Of crimson, when the moon was pale and dim
Above the battle-field so grim and wide.
Methinks within her wakes a mighty glow
Of pride, of tenderness—her stirring past—
The strife, the valour, of the long ago
Feels at her heart-strings. Strong, and tall, and vast,
She lies, touched with the sunset’s golden grace,
A wondrous softness on her grey old face.
B. Bishop.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
Time plays strange tricks with the affairs of men,
and it is not without significance to recall that
the conqueror of Quebec was in the year 1746
engaged in crushing the defeated Highlanders
after Culloden. More than that his hatred for
the Jacobites was very genuine, though his
dislike was tempered with mercy. It was for
that human quality that the Highlanders bore
him no grudge, and won for the name of Wolfe
the victor of Quebec.
.pn +1 // Page 045.png
Wolfe was born in Kent in 1727. In 1743 he
fought at Dettingen, and in 1745-6 in the Highlands.
He was a most able and determined
leader, with an odd and not inspiring presence.
In Fort Amity Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch’s hero
remarks: “‘What like is he?’ says you; ‘just
a sandy-haired slip of a man,’ says I, ‘with
a cocked nose, but I love him, Jack, for he
knows his business.’”
In that sentence lies the whole secret of
successful generalship. The troops who stormed
Quebec had an implicit confidence in their leader.
General Wolfe embarked with his forces at
Sandy Hook on May 8, 1759, and, after putting
in at Louisburg, entered the St. Lawrence and
disembarked off the Isle of Orleans in preparation
for the formidable task before him.
The outposts of Canada were fast falling into
British hands, but the key to ultimate supremacy
was Quebec, and Wolfe had only 8000 men to
take it. For a long time he besieged the place,
knowing that to engage upon an open assault
would be a piece of madness; and in those days
artillery was not sufficiently powerful to reduce
a position of such strength. The city of Quebec
was also heavily fortified and entrenched. But
as time went on more active measures were
necessary. Days were speeding into weeks, winter
was drawing nigh, and the British ships were
likely enough to be held up or destroyed in the
freezing of the St. Lawrence. Disease was
weakening the army even more than shot, and
in the end Wolfe himself was overcome by sickness.
.pn +1 // Page 046.png
The expedition promised to be an utter
failure.
In the first attack upon the fortress Wolfe
was driven back with a loss of 400 men. Well
might he become dispirited and long for the day
when Amherst, now that Niagara had surrendered,
would come marching to his aid. But Amherst
did not come, while all the time the situation grew
more critical. Not only was there a strongly
entrenched enemy in Quebec, but from every
wood shots were fired at the British, and every
night rang with false alarms to wear down their
strength and courage.
At last Wolfe, weak with fever, but burning
with the greater fire of patriotism, resolved to
wait no longer. It came to his knowledge that
up the cliff side of the fortress there was a narrow
pathway leading to a plateau upon the Plains
of Abraham. Should he contrive to capture
such a commanding position the enemy could
be met upon fair terms. The situation is aptly
expressed in the jingle:
.pm verse-start
Quebec was once a Frenchman’s town, but twenty years ago,
King George the Second sent a man called General Wolfe, you know,
To clamber up a precipice and look into Quebec,
As you’d look down a hatchway when standing on the deck.[#]
.pm verse-end
Upon the 5th and 6th of September he embarked
his forces and planned to take the French
by surprise. It was a very dark night, and
no moon shining, when Wolfe’s force, including
Fraser’s Highlanders, took to their boats, and
.pn +1 // Page 047.png
soon, in absolute silence, the transports were
gliding like ghosts over the water.
Wolfe, spent with sickness, sat amongst his
officers, and it is recorded that as the boats
reached the cliff up which they hoped to find
the way to victory, he repeated to himself some
verses from ‘An Elegy in a Country Churchyard,’
remarking, “I would rather have written
that poem than take Quebec.”
By a simple ruse the boats arrived at the
shore. They were challenged by a sentry, but a
Highland officer replied with more resource than
truthfulness that they were French. For the
moment the danger was negotiated, and soon
they were at the foot of a precipitous cliff which
rose some 200 feet sheer above them. Landing
in absolute silence, the Highlanders began to
move up its front, hoisting and pulling each other
from foot to foot, and ledge to ledge, clinging to
roots and trees with bleeding hands and knees—but
always nearing the top. The few French
pickets, nodding in the darkness above, saw the
danger that had crept out of the night too
late. They were speedily overcome and silenced,
and at dawn of day some 4000 British troops
were drawn up upon the Plains of Abraham.
Well might Montcalm say, “They have at last
got to the weak side of this miserable garrison;
we must give battle and crush them before midday.”
Quebec was, in that admission, already
half won.
The forces of Montcalm, composed of French
soldiers, Canadians, and Indians, advanced with
.pn +1 // Page 048.png
reckless daring against the British lines, and the
bravery of the French leader must ever command
our respect and admiration. He led five largely
undisciplined battalions against the veterans of
the British Army.
Wolfe, ever in the forefront of the fight, was
almost immediately hit, but it took a third shot
to send him to the ground. In the meantime
Montcalm had hurled his forces at the British
troops, himself cheering them on, and taking no
heed of his wounds, as brave and gallant a
leader as Wolfe himself.
But the British regulars met the broken
lines of the enemy as they met the charging
clansmen at Culloden. They reserved their fire
until the French were a bare forty yards distant,
and in a few minutes the victory was already won,
for “the Highlanders, taking to their broadswords,
fell in among them with irresistible
impetuosity, and drove them back with great
slaughter.” At the moment that Wolfe led his
men to the decisive charge he fell upon the field
of victory.
“Support me,” he said to one of his staff;
“let not my brave fellows see me drop.”
“They run, they run,” cried the officer.
“Who run?” asked Wolfe, scarce able to
speak.
“The French give way everywhere.”
“What! Do they run already? Now, God
be praised, I die happy.”
In the meantime, Montcalm, also mortally
wounded, was carried back to the fortress, where
.pn +1 // Page 049.png
panic had seized the French garrison. It was
rumoured that the General was killed.
“So much the better for me,” he sighed when
he heard of it; “I shall not live to see the surrender
of Quebec.”
With his death passed away the ascendancy
of France in Canada.
In the siege of Quebec Fraser’s Highlanders
took a gallant and important share. They
were amongst the troops who landed upon
Wolfe’s Cove, as it was afterwards called, and
won the Heights of Abraham, and when the
French attack was broken, the regiment pursued
the fugitives to the very gates of the town into
which they were shortly to march.
In the following April when the French, under
De Levi, advanced against Quebec, Fraser’s
Highlanders, under the command of General
Murray, were forced to retire into the city after
a severe action. Later on Lord Murray achieved
a junction with General Amherst, whose arrival
had been so exceedingly tardy.
Ticonderoga, which covered the frontiers of
New York, was now in British hands, together
with Niagara. Quebec was conquered; the only
place of strength remaining was Montreal. Upon
this township, therefore, the forces of General
Munro and General Amherst were concentrated.
The Governor, perceiving that resistance was
futile, surrendered, and in this peaceful fashion
concluded the campaign that added Canada to
the British Empire.
In the summer of 1908 extensive celebrations
.pn +1 // Page 050.png
were held in Canada to commemorate the taking
of Quebec, and the foundation of Britain’s power
in the Far West just a hundred and fifty years
before. Field-Marshal Lord Roberts was sent
over to represent Great Britain, being accorded a
magnificent reception from the Canadians, whose
loyalty to the Empire has always made them her
generous supporters whenever the call has come.
.fn #
From Ionica, W. Cory.
.fn-
.pn +1 // Page 051.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap05 title='5. Red Indian and Highlander (1760-1767)'
CHAPTER V | RED INDIAN AND HIGHLANDER | (1760-1767)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
When the summer harvest was gathered in,
And the sheaf of the gleaner grew white and thin,
And the ploughshare was in its furrow left,
Where the stubble land had been lately cleft,
An Indian hunter, with unstrung bow,
Looked down where the valley lay stretched below.
Longfellow.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
We come now to a phase of our story that chiefly
concerns two intrepid regiments, whose services
were so valuable to the Government—namely,
Fraser’s and Montgomery’s Highlanders. The
Black Watch was not the only regiment raised
during the middle of the eighteenth century.
In answer to the appeal of the Government the
clansmen followed the lead of their chiefs and
enrolled themselves in several battalions, which
saw service in America during the war with
France, the trouble with the Red Indians,
and later against the colonists. Amongst these
regiments the best known was Montgomery’s
Highlanders (founded in 1757), which, as we have
noted, suffered a reverse under Major Grant at
Fort Duquesne, and were also associated with
the Black Watch under Amherst.
.pn +1 // Page 052.png
Fraser’s Highlanders, later to be enrolled in
the Seaforths, were raised as the 78th Regiment
in 1757, and the 71st Regiment in 1775, by the
son of Simon, Lord Lovat, the Jacobite rebel.
They served at the investment of Louisburg and
at Quebec. The 71st Regiment took part in the
American War of Independence.
Many other regiments were formed from time
to time and either disbanded or absorbed. It
was not until the latter part of the eighteenth
century that the Highland regiments as we know
them to-day, apart of course from the Black
Watch, came to be formed.
Perhaps the hardest, most dangerous, and
most thrilling task that was undertaken by the
Highlanders at this period was the forlorn expedition
of Montgomery against the Cherokee
Indians.
There have been no savages who ever possessed
in their cruelty and in their superhuman cunning
so great a fascination in story as the Red Indians.
Always behind the tools of their trade—the call
of an owl, the silent arrow by moonlight, the
war dance, the feathers and the paint—there
lurked the glamour of the unknown.
Whether as the godlike figures of Fenimore
Cooper, or the dreaded Redskins of Manville
Fenn and Ballantyne, they have secured for
themselves a kind of grim immortality. Other
times may bring other tales, stories of submarines
and aeroplanes, and the ingenious contrivances
that have robbed war of what romance
it may once have claimed, but never again will
.pn +1 // Page 053.png
there be the same thrill that the simple snap of
a twig in a breathless night could so painfully
awaken.
We have noticed how favourably impressed
the Indians had been with their first introduction
to the Highlander. Like the Sikh and the
Gurkha of India, like the Kaffir in Africa, and
to some extent the Arab of the East, warlike
peoples have always felt some link with the
Highlander. But the Red Indian was to suffer
some practical experiences of an activity and
capacity for taking cover almost equal to his
own. The Highlander at this time was skilled
by centuries of marauding in the art of concealment,
and in taking advantage of rough
country. He was long-sighted, keen of hearing,
and accustomed to move by night. There is a
vivid scene in Stevenson’s Kidnapped where
Allan Breck and David Balfour, bound for the
sanctuary of Cluny Macpherson’s cave, heard
but a rustle in the heather, and in a flash a clansman
was at the throat of each of them.
The Highlander was no amateur in war.
In 1760 Colonel Montgomery led his regiment
against the Cherokee Indians, who had become
an increasing menace to the settlers. It was
an undertaking as full of peril as the bravest
soldier could have desired. “What may be
Montgomery’s fate in the Cherokee country,”
wrote one accustomed to the Indian, “I cannot
so readily determine. It seems he has made
a prosperous beginning, having penetrated into
the heart of the country, and he is now advancing
.pn +1 // Page 054.png
his troops in high health and spirits to the relief
of Fort Loudon. But let him be wary. He has
a crafty, subtle enemy to deal with, that may
give him most trouble when he least expects it.”
No truer words could have been passed upon
the character of Indian fighting.
When the Highlanders approached the Cherokee
town Etchowee they entered a ravine densely
wooded, at the foot of which ran a sluggish river.
Suddenly the war-whoop resounded from every
side, while the dark figures of the Redskins
were seen flitting from tree to tree, firing from
every quarter. Numbers of the soldiers fell in
the first attack, unfortunately several of the
wounded being lost in the impenetrable thicket,
only to fall into the hands of the Indians.
The Highlanders charged the enemy, driving
them up the sides of the ravine, but won no
definite advantage. The Indians always preferred
guerilla warfare to close conflict, knowing
that the farther they enticed the invader
into the wilds of their country the less chance
would there be that he would win back to safety.
Every one is familiar with the cruelty that the
Red Indians practised upon their prisoners, and
those unfortunate Highlanders who in this instance
were carried away by the Cherokees fared
exceedingly badly. The following story, as related
by General Stewart, will give an idea not
only of the treatment accorded to captives, but
also of the extreme credulity of the Indians at
this time.
“Several soldiers ... fell into the hands of
.pn +1 // Page 055.png
the Indians, being taken in an ambush. Allan
Macpherson, one of these soldiers, witnessing
the miserable fate of several of his fellow-prisoners,
who had been tortured to death by
the Indians, and seeing them preparing to commence
the same operation upon himself, made
signs he had something to communicate. An
interpreter was brought. Macpherson told them,
that provided his life was spared for a few minutes,
he would communicate the secret of an extraordinary
medicine, which, if applied to the skin,
would cause it to resist the strongest blow of a
tomahawk or sword, and that, if they would
allow him to go to the woods with a guard, to
collect the proper plants for this medicine, he
would prepare it, and allow the experiment to
be tried on his own neck by the strongest and
most expert warrior among them. This story
easily gained upon the superstitious credulity
of the Indians, and the request of the Highlander
was instantly complied with. Being sent into
the woods, he soon returned with such plants as
he chose to pick up. Having boiled these herbs,
he rubbed his neck with their juice, and laying
his head upon a log of wood, desired the strongest
man among them to strike at his neck with his
tomahawk, when he would find he could not
make the smallest impression. An Indian, levelling
a blow with all his might, cut with such force,
that the head flew off at a distance of several
yards. The Indians were fixed in amazement
at their own credulity, and the address with
which the prisoner had escaped the lingering
.pn +1 // Page 056.png
death prepared for him; but instead of being
enraged at this escape of their victim, they were
so pleased with his ingenuity that they refrained
from inflicting further cruelties on the remaining
prisoners.”
After this affray Colonel Montgomery had
no desire for a further acquaintance with the
Indians. Employing the simple device of lighting
camp-fires, he retreated post-haste before
the ruse was suspected, making his way back to
Fort George, and from thence to New York,
remarking, when warned that he was leaving
the unfortunate settlers to the mercies of the
victorious Cherokee, that “he could not help the
people’s fears.” Whether such an action and
such a statement was prudent, or merely timorous,
is not for us to say, but to the deserted Fort
Loudon it was little better than a death-warrant.
Besieged by the triumphant Indians, reduced to
starvation point, and with the sure knowledge
that further resistance only forestalled a humiliating
surrender, the garrison came to terms with
the enemy. What these terms amounted to
does not greatly matter, for hardly had the
unfortunate soldiers evacuated, and begun their
retreat, than the Cherokees fell upon them,
slaughtering a large number without mercy.
In 1764 the Black Watch and a detachment
of Montgomery’s Highlanders set out for the relief
of Fort Pitt, at that time besieged by Indians.
The expedition was composed of about a thousand
men, and was commanded by Colonel Henry
Boquet. The whole country was swarming with
.pn +1 // Page 057.png
the enemy, and the British force was compelled
to advance through a narrow pass winding between
precipitous hills. Many a time had Rob Roy
and his Macgregors ambushed their pursuers in
a similar spot. In those times, before long-range
rifles, artillery, and aeroplanes, such places frequently
proved a death-trap to an invading force,
particularly soldiers unaccustomed to rough country
and unable to get to close quarters with an
agile enemy like the Red Indian.
One can picture the Highlanders, ill at ease,
cautiously feeling their way up the silent gorge,
their pack-horses stumbling along the narrow
track, a strong body of the Black Watch ahead,
and every man awaiting from one moment to
another the attack that never came, while
each step towards the centre of the defile
magnified the prospect of annihilation. Suddenly,
out of the stillness hummed a flight of
arrows, while the dreaded Indian war-whoop
echoed and re-echoed from every side. Unlike
other savages, as the Zulu impi at Rorke’s Drift,
or the Dervishes at Omdurman, the Red Indian
preferred to kill by stealth, and in those times
the ways of the Redskins were not so familiar to
the white men as they became in the course of
the terrible struggle which was eventually to
sweep the Indian off the continent of America.
On this occasion, although the Indians had inferior
weapons, they possessed enormous superiority
in numbers. They were also familiar with every
foot of the country.
It fell to the Black Watch to drive them
.pn +1 // Page 058.png
out of their position. This the Highlanders
accomplished soon enough, and by their agility
put the enemy to flight, but the attack was
renewed and again renewed. The thickly wooded
hill-side rang with the yells of thousands of
braves—on every side they rose from amongst
the rocks and undergrowth. The 42nd charged
them with fixed bayonets, but they might as
well have charged the wind. The Indians melted
away before them, only to reassemble in another
quarter, intent on causing a panic, dividing the
British forces, stampeding the pack-horses, and
keeping up the action until darkness drew on.
Near at hand was a favourable plateau, and
here the commanding officer decided to form
his camp until the dawn. Through the brief
summer night they awaited the assault, but
as the expected rarely occurred in Indian warfare,
none came. The Indians, confident that lack
of water would necessitate an advance and the
gradual destruction of the white men, contented
themselves with false alarms and all those
other time-honoured modes of wearing down the
nerves and strength. It is also probable that they
were none too ready to encounter more closely the
strange men in tartan who played a game hardly
less cunning than their own. At the same time
it was important for the British to advance,
for in their camp were many wounded, who
could not hope to keep up with the main body,
and who could under no circumstances be left
to the fiendish tortures of the Indians.
Boquet was a man of resolute will. The
.pn +1 // Page 059.png
following morning he feigned a retreat, when, with
confident recklessness, the Indians rushed headlong
upon his little force. Suddenly, out of the
dense thicket, two companies of Highlanders
appeared upon their flank. At the same time
the main body advanced, and in an instant
what had seemed to promise a severe disaster
was turned into an overwhelming success. The
British lost nearly a quarter of their number, but
reached Fort Pitt without further danger, where
the Black Watch passed the winter.
In the same year they set out on an expedition
against the Ohio Indians, and once more the
remarkable endurance and activity of the Highlanders
was put to the test, with the result that,
during an advance through almost impenetrable
forests, there was not a single casualty through
fatigue.
.sp 2
The war between England and France had
concluded on February 10, 1763, with the Treaty
of Paris. This Treaty deprived the French of
rich territories both in North America and
eastward of the Mississippi, but the conquest
was in itself little better than a menace to the
future peace of England. It was Vergennes,
the French Ambassador at Constantinople, who
wisely remarked at the time: “England will
soon repent of having removed the only check
that could keep her colonies in awe. They
stand no longer in need of her protection. She
will call to them to contribute towards supporting
the burden they have helped to bring
.pn +1 // Page 060.png
on her, and they will answer by striking off all
dependence.”
In a time when we have witnessed the noble
patriotism and loyal support of our colonies,
such a statement may well appear unduly
pessimistic, or even absurd. But unfortunately
at this period the spirit of Empire was clouded
over by arrogance and insularity. People far
away in England were not sufficiently in touch
with the new world of America to treat the
colonists with tolerance or sympathy. England
had squandered much money and many lives
in the war with France, and was not prepared
to come to an understanding with the settlers,
for whose safety it had carried out the campaign.
In another chapter we shall see how humiliating
the consequences of the War of Independence
proved, and the part that the Highlanders took
in the struggle.
.pn +1 // Page 061.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap06 title='6. The American War of Independence (1775-1782)'
CHAPTER VI | THE AMERICAN WAR OF INDEPENDENCE | (1775-1782).
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Thy spirit, Independence, let me share,
Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye,
Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare,
Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.
Smollett.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
In the earlier chapters we have dealt with the
actions in which the Black Watch, Fraser’s, and
Montgomery’s Highlanders were engaged. It is
now time that mention was made of the other
Highland regiments that were formed about this
period, and that were, to some extent, recruited
from the troops disbanded shortly before the
American War of Independence. It would take
too long and be too confusing to enter into any
detail concerning the various false starts that
many Highland regiments made. The actual
date of their respective foundations will be found
in the list of regimental battle honours, or in the
chapters devoted on occasions to the exploit of a
particular battalion.
The various Highland regiments that were
raised after the Black Watch were largely the
outcome of personal enterprise. The chief of the
.pn +1 // Page 062.png
Macleods, for instance, raised the battalion that
afterwards became the 1st Highland Light Infantry.
The principal cities in Scotland each
contributed towards a regiment, and the great
families of Seaforth, Gordon, Argyll, and Macdonald
did much in the time succeeding and
preceding the American War to foster the military
spirit. The regiment created by the Earl
of Seaforth ultimately became the 1st Seaforth
Highlanders.
There is, I think, only one particular point
to note before we continue this narrative. In
times of major warfare, such as in the great
campaigning of the Napoleonic wars, the Crimea,
and South Africa, several Highland regiments,
not necessarily all, were banded together under
the control of a commander, and called the Highland
Brigade. A brigade may consist of three
or four or more battalions, each battalion roughly
a thousand odd men, and naturally comes into
severe fighting.
In the Crimea the Highland Brigade was composed
of three regiments, the Black Watch, the
Camerons, and the 93rd Sutherlands. It was
commanded by the famous Sir Colin Campbell.
In the Indian Mutiny no regular brigade was
formed. In the Egyptian war in 1882 the
Highland Brigade was under the command of
Sir Archibald Alison, and included the Black
Watch, the Highland Light Infantry, the Gordons,
and the Camerons. In the Boer War of 1889-1902
the Highland Brigade was under the command
of General Wauchope, and included the
.pn +1 // Page 063.png
2nd Battalion of the Black Watch, the 2nd
Seaforth Highlanders, the 1st Argyll and Sutherlands,
and the 1st Highland Light Infantry. It
was these four regiments that met with the severe
reverse at Magersfontein.
.sp 2
At the time when the American War of
Independence broke out George III. was upon
the throne. He was an Englishman born and
bred, and, after the earlier Georges, that in itself
made a great appeal to the imagination of the
English people. He was a man possessed of a
great sincerity and a greater obstinacy, who
lived as much as possible amongst his tenants
in the country or within his own domestic circle.
He evidenced, in brief, most of the virtues with
many of the weaknesses of the English character.
Though he displayed to a large degree the
genial spirit that made men call him ‘Farmer
George,’ there was also rather too much John
Bull in his personality. His were the virtues of
an honest, determined, rather stupid Englishman.
It might be said that such a nature as this,
particularly in the riotous eighteenth century,
could achieve nothing but good. Unfortunately
he not only ruled his family so harshly that
they all turned out extremely badly, but he also
tried to carry out the same attitude towards
America. He scolded the colonists as though
they were naughty children, and the colonists,
many of whom had no acquaintance with England,
and whose forebears had left the mother-country
for the very good reason that they were happier
.pn +1 // Page 064.png
out of it, met this intolerance with a bold and
determined front. They naturally resented the
autocratic demands of the Government; they
could not tolerate the attitude of the English
officers, while although they had outgrown
Jacobite sympathies, they cherished no loyalty
to a Hanoverian king.
In 1761 the Importation Act was passed, an
attempt to enforce payment of duty, in consequence
of which English ships went far to ruin
trade with the West Indies. The end of the
French and Indian wars had brought with it a
great increase to the National Debt, and it seemed
only fair to the Government that, as the conflict
had been undertaken principally to guard the
interests of the settlers, the cost should be
shared by them. To this the colonists retorted
that they too had fought, and that Canada was
ample compensation to the British for any loss
of capital.
In 1765 the Stamp Act was passed, ordering
that all documents of every description must
be printed on paper purchased from the Government.
On October 1, 1768, seven hundred soldiers
marched into Boston and attempted to overawe
the residents. To use a familiar catch-phrase,
‘the Government was asking for trouble.’
But the colonists still displayed great patience,
and though disaffection simmered, it was not
until 1773 that any sign of rebellion was
visible. It was then that fifty men, dressed
up as Red Indians, flung a cargo of tea into
.pn +1 // Page 065.png
Boston Harbour, and on March 31, 1774, the
port was ordered to be closed by the Government.
Once started, deeds followed fast upon words,
while incident hurried upon incident. Little
things acquire an indescribable importance at
such times, just as a spark will blow up a
magazine. Finally, on July 4, 1776, the
Declaration of Independence was signed, and
the war commenced.
In England the effect of the Declaration was
provocative of hardly more alarm than the outbreak
of war in South Africa in 1899. In both
cases it was exceedingly difficult to estimate
the power of the enemy, and hard to believe he
could resist a disciplined army. Take, for instance,
a typical blusterer of the period. Major
James Grant stated in the House of Commons
that he knew the Americans very well, and was
certain they would not fight,—“that they were
not soldiers, and never could be made so, being
naturally pusillanimous and incapable of discipline;
that a very slight force would be more
than sufficient for their complete reduction;
and he fortified his statement by repeating their
peculiar expressions and ridiculing their religious
enthusiasm, manners, and ways of living, greatly
to the entertainment of the House.”[#]
Pitt replied in memorable words. “The
spirit,” he said, “which resists your taxation in
America is the same that formerly opposed loans,
benevolences, and ship-money in England....
This glorious spirit of Whiggism animates three
.pn +1 // Page 066.png
millions in America, who prefer poverty with
liberty to gilded chains and sordid affluence,
and who will die in defence of their rights as
freemen.”
Throughout England there was the bitterest
resentment against the war, with the widest
sympathy for the Americans. Many officers
handed in their papers, and meetings were held
to express the indignation that such a step
should have been forced upon a loyal and long-suffering
people. Only Scotland, Tory at home
and abroad, supported the king against America,
while, with pathetic loyalty, the Highlanders,
some of whom had fought for Prince Charlie
against George II., risked their lives and lost
their homes in America for the cause of George
III.
.sp 2
The Black Watch and Fraser’s Highlanders
sailed from Greenock on April 14, 1776, and
disembarked at Staten, where the main body was
stationed. Here the Highlanders were drilled in
a new form of warfare, to enable them to overcome
the resistance of the colonists. Broad-swords
and pistols were laid aside, and greater
reliance was placed upon marksmanship. After
some preliminary fighting at Long Island the
Americans, under Washington, secured a masterly
retreat. In the month following the British troops
took possession of the heights commanding New
York. So far England had swept everything
before her.
During the cessation that followed this engagement
.pn +1 // Page 067.png
Washington devoted every moment
to strengthening his forces. The American
troops were no more trained than the Boers in
South Africa, but like the latter they could
claim in their favour a thorough knowledge
of the country with practised marksmanship,
derived from years of fighting with the Indians.
Their hatred for the English, which burned deeper
day by day, was in no degree cooled when they
saw amongst the English troops both German
mercenaries and Redskins. It is difficult for us
to realise how bitterly the Americans abhorred
the very sight of an Indian, while on the other
hand, an unwritten page in history is the strange
alliance that bound many Royalists to their
merciless allies, and the brutal instincts such a
fellowship aroused in some of the Highlanders,
particularly those of the older, wilder generation,
the scourings of the ‘45. On one occasion, for
instance, a Highlander with the honest name
of Donald M’Donald, led a party of Redskins
against a block-house called Shell’s Bush. After
the siege, which most fortunately ended in favour
of the settler, it was discovered that “M’Donald
wore a silver-mounted tomahawk, which was
taken from him by Shell. It was marked by
thirty scalp-notches, showing that few Indians
could have been more industrious than himself in
gathering that description of military trophies.”[#]
It is also worth mentioning, for few histories
have dealt with this point, that the unfortunate
Highlanders who had settled in America in the
.pn +1 // Page 068.png
years succeeding Culloden, and who, in their
loyalty to the throne, fought against the American
settlers, were eventually left in the lurch at the
conclusion of hostilities, and forced to trek into
Canada. Amongst these hapless people who
lost their homes were Flora Macdonald and her
husband. Her family divided and her future
in jeopardy, she set sail again for Scotland,
and there she died at the end of the eighteenth
century, in the land where she had befriended
Prince Charlie.
The capture of Fort Washington by General
Howe was an important achievement, in which
the Highland regiment played an honourable
part. The Fort was well stationed upon the
summit of a high plateau, as difficult of access
upon at least one side as, let us say, the flank
of Edinburgh or Stirling Castles. But where
difficulties are so obvious, caution should always
be exercised the more. We have seen how
the heights of Quebec were scaled simply
by challenging the apparently impossible. In
much the same manner the Highlanders cleared
the precipice beneath Fort Washington, and
last, but certainly not least of them, Major
Murray, whose stoutness and valour can only be
compared to that of Sir Robert Munro at Fontenoy,
was carried to the summit.
“This hill,” says an authority, “was so
perpendicular that the ball which wounded
Lieutenant Macleod entered the posterior part
of his neck, ran down on the middle of his ribs,
and lodged in the lower part of his back. One
.pn +1 // Page 069.png
of the pipers who began to play when he reached
the point of a rock on the summit, was immediately
shot, and tumbled from one piece of rock
to another till he reached the bottom. Major
Murray, being a large corpulent man, could
not attempt this steep ascent without assistance.
The soldiers, eager to get to the point
of their duty, scrambled up, forgetting the
situation of Major Murray, when he, in a
melancholy, supplicating tone cried, ‘Oh,
soldiers, will you leave me?’ A party leaped
down instantly, and brought him up, supporting
him from one ledge to another until they
got him to the top”—a spectacle not without
humour.
The Americans, flying before the Black Watch,
were brought face to face with the Hessians, and
were compelled to lay down their arms. It is
unquestionable that half the success of a victory
lies in the manner that the pursuit is carried
out, and unfortunately General Howe, instead of
pressing hard upon the demoralised Americans,
was content to go into winter quarters, thus
permitting Washington to employ the succeeding
weeks in strengthening his army. The time
lost was never recovered. On January 22 the
Hessians at Trenton were completely surprised
and defeated. It had been touch-and-go for the
Americans. Defeat at that moment would have
ended the war. Immediately the whole situation
was changed, and the future grew dark for the
British arms.
Shortly after, the Highlanders in their turn
.pn +1 // Page 070.png
were nearly overcome by a sudden attack while
they were seeking some rest after long night-watching.
A force of 2000 Americans attempted
to rush and take them by surprise. Happily
for the Black Watch their outposts were resolved
to die rather than retreat, and the delay saved
the situation.
About the middle of June General Howe
perceiving that Washington was strongly entrenched
at Middlebrook, resolved to change the
theatre of war. When it is difficult to take a
position there are two actions that are open to a
commander—one is to mask it, as we have seen
fortresses masked in the German War, and the
other is simply to go elsewhere. The British
forces marched away and sailed for Elk Ferry,
from thence advancing on Philadelphia. Washington,
hurriedly abandoning Middlebrook, pushed
across country to oppose the crossing of the
English at Brandy Wine River. Now the fording
of a river under the shield of heavy battery fire
is no light matter, but in those days, when the
protection of artillery was not so adequate as it
is to-day, it could only be carried with a terrible
loss of life. Instead of a frontal attack Cornwallis
determined to carry out a flanking movement
upon the American position, so, marching
up-stream, he forded the river without opposition
and drove back General Sullivan. This enabled
General Knyphausen to cross with his division,
and at the falling of night the Americans were
in retreat. Washington was beaten. On the
26th, Philadelphia fell into the hands of the
.pn +1 // Page 071.png
British. Then followed the greatest blow of
the war, and the decisive moment was come.
General Burgoyne, marching victorious from
Canada to co-operate with General Howe at
Saratoga Springs, met with a disaster the
importance of which can be estimated by the
memorable words of Lord Mahon.
“Even of those great conflicts, in which
hundreds of thousands have been engaged and
tens of thousands have fallen, none has been more
fruitful of results than this surrender of thirty-five
hundred fighting men at Saratoga. It not
merely changed the relations of England and
the feelings of Europe towards these insurgent
colonists, but it has modified, for all times to
come, the connexion between every colony and
every parent state.”
With General Burgoyne was General Simon
Fraser, a Highlander of great distinction, who
had served on the Continent, in the expedition
against Louisburg, and with Wolfe at Quebec,
where he was the officer who, deceiving the French
sentry, enabled the Highlanders to land unsuspected.
It is difficult to say whether the defeat
at Saratoga Springs could have been averted,
but it is probable that the despatches summoning
Howe miscarried. Undoubtedly Burgoyne made
a blunder in forcing Fraser to retreat when he
was driving the troops of Colonel Morgan back.
However that may be, what followed was dismal
enough. Burgoyne took up his last position on
the Heights of Saratoga, holding on till famine
made further resistance impossible.
.pn +1 // Page 072.png
Saratoga was the turning-point of the war.
France no longer hesitated, but threw in her lot
with America. The whole character of the
struggle was changed, and its wider issues lie
outside our story. In 1780 the Black Watch
took part in the siege of Charlestown, which
surrendered on May 12. In the further history
of the 42nd in America there is little more
that is worth recording. The capitulation of
Cornwallis (with whom were Fraser’s Highlanders)
at Yorktown in 1781 practically ended
hostilities.
In the American War of Independence there
was little honour or glory for the British name
or the Highland regiments. Where the cause is
unworthy of a great nation success can carry
with it nothing but dishonour.
.fn #
Bancroft’s History of the United States, vol. vi.
.fn-
.fn #
Stone’s Life of Joseph Brant, vol. ii. p. 164.
.fn-
.pn +1 // Page 073.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap07 title='7. With the Highland Light Infantry to Seringapatam (1799)'
CHAPTER VII | WITH THE HIGHLAND LIGHT INFANTRY TO SERINGAPATAM | (1799)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
What marks the frontier line?
Thou man of India say!
Is it the Himalayas sheer,
The rocks and valleys of Cashmere,
Or Indus as she seeks the south
From Attoch to the five-fold mouth?
‘Not that! Not that!’
Then answer me, I pray!
What marks the frontier line?
Sir A. Conan Doyle.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
The Highland Light Infantry is the only Highland
regiment wearing the trews or tartan
trousers. Other regiments of the Highland
Brigade have discarded the kilt at one time or
another—the Argyll Highlanders at the commencement
of the last century, the Gordons at one
period, and the Black Watch in Ashanti. The
H.L.I. was raised as the 71st Foot in 1777, and
was known at one time as Macleod’s Highlanders,
when they were a kilted regiment. The second
battalion was raised in 1787. The first battalion
wore the kilt from 1777 to 1809, and the second
battalion (the 74th Foot) until 1847.
The H.L.I. have the proud distinction of
.pn +1 // Page 074.png
more battle honours than any other Highland
regiment. Few regiments indeed have such a
distinguished roll of honours, or have seen such
varied service. It is surrounding their badge
‘The Elephant,’ and their honours of ‘Mysore,’
‘Hindoostan,’ and ‘Seringapatam’ that the
present chapter on the Indian campaign of 1799
is written.
In an earlier chapter an attempt has been
made to give some idea of the vast extent of the
struggle between England and France during the
latter half of the eighteenth century, a struggle
that was to reach its zenith at the battle of
Waterloo in 1815.
The French had long been a power in
India, though at the foundation of our East
India Company they were not by any means
established. For one thing, the British were on
more friendly terms with the Indian Princes, while
the French were kept very busy fighting not only
the Dutch but the English as well. The Dutch,
in those days a great naval power, beat the
French time and again, and it was not until the
latter founded Pondicherry that they were able
to lay any assured basis of prosperity.
The whole system on which the English power
was maintained in India was a very indifferent
one. The English possessions were guided and
controlled by the East India Company—a commercial
body whose chief aim, naturally enough,
was to make the best possible profit out of India,
leaving international questions to look after
themselves. It was with the name of Clive that
.pn +1 // Page 075.png
the first vision of the Indian Empire was seen
upon the horizon of time.
It is not within the scope of our story to devote
any space to the great career of Clive, save only
to remind the reader of Arcot, of the Black Hole
of Calcutta, and of Plassey.
In 1786, the year after Warren Hastings’
return to England, Cornwallis was sent to
India as Governor-General and Commander-in-Chief.
He was not in any way attached to the
East India Company, and in this way a new era
commenced.
Cornwallis was soon compelled to enter into
war with Tippoo Sahib, and at first the ‘Tiger
of Mysore’ made things very difficult for him.
For a time, however, peace was patched up, and
Lord Wellesley, the brother of the future Duke of
Wellington, succeeded as Governor-General.
As we shall see elsewhere, Napoleon had set
his heart on the conquest of Egypt, with a view
to depriving England of her colonies. After
Egypt, he had every hope of conquering India,
and for this reason Tippoo was a very promising
personage with whom to make a secret treaty
against the English. Although the French
supremacy was a thing of the past, yet many
native princes retained French officers to drill
their troops, and their influence was not unlike
the control that the Germans exercised
over the Turks in 1915. When Lord Wellesley
arrived, he found himself faced by treacherous
Indian rulers, French intrigue, and rebellious
natives.
.pn +1 // Page 076.png
In 1799 war again broke out with Tippoo,
when Colonel Arthur Wellesley, the future ‘Iron
Duke,’ was one of the British commanders. The
Highlanders under Wellesley took an active part
in defeating the Indian troops in every engagement,
until at last Tippoo was surrounded in his
capital Seringapatam.
Some idea of the service of the H.L.I. in
India from 1780 onwards until 1806 may be
gauged by the fact that no less than five names—Carnatic,
Sholinghur, Mysore, Hindoostan, and
Seringapatam—were added to the regimental
colours.
In the Mysore campaign the 71st H.L.I. took
part in all the important battles leading up to
the heroic storming of Seringapatam.
Colonel Wellesley, as stated above, discovered
that Tippoo Sahib was at the heart of a new
French intrigue, and decided that the time had
come for action. With this end in view he
despatched an army numbering 43,000 men to
break his power for ever, and take his stronghold
by storm.
But so much time was spent in clearing the
ground covering the approaches to the fortress,
that on April 14, 1799, it was seen that unless the
supplies of the army were to give out the place must
be carried at all costs. It was no easy matter.
Seringapatam lay between two branches of the
river Cavery, while to its front were entrenchments,
and behind these the artillery and fortifications
of the city itself.
Trench warfare is so familiar to-day that
.pn +1 // Page 077.png
there will be no difficulty in understanding the
initial steps in the battle. After some days
devoted to undermining the enemy’s trenches—the
Highlanders, under Wellesley, rushed the
position, driving the Indians into Seringapatam.
Following upon that success the British guns
settled down to make a breach in the walls of
the city, but by the 2nd of May, when that was
accomplished, the supplies of the army had run
very low and as Mr. Fortescue has written, “so
desperate was the situation that the General fully
resolved, if necessary, to throw his entire army
into the breach, since success was positively
necessary to its existence.”
But the prospect of carrying the breach by
assault was sufficient to unnerve the finest troops.
There was first a rush over one hundred yards
to the river, which must be forded. On the
opposite bank of the river was a wall, while
between the wall and the breach lay an open
ditch some sixty yards in breadth. It was an
obstacle-race with death.
Two parties were allotted for the business.
With Major-General Baird in one party went
the H.L.I. and the 2nd Battalion of the Black
Watch.
It was agreed that the enemy would least
expect such a dangerous and exhausting assault
in the height of the heat. In the darkness of the
preceding night the storming party marched
into the trenches, where they remained throughout
the morning of the following day until
.pn +1 // Page 078.png
the moment arrived. “Men,” called Major-General
Baird, “are you all ready?”
Ready they had been for twelve hours.
“Then forward, my lads.”
Like a pack of hounds they tore across the
open space to the river, and instantly the enemy
opened fire. Through the Cavery they splashed,
over the wall they poured, across the ditch, then
like an angry river, between the ragged walls of
the breach. Within six minutes the British flag
was hoisted upon the outer wall of Seringapatam.
The rushing of the inner rampart headed by
Captain Goodall followed.
In the meantime Dunlop’s column had fought
to a standstill when Lieutenant Farquhar of the
74th Highlanders rallied the Grenadiers, falling
in his hour of triumph.
The slaughter of the enemy was enormous.
Caught between two fires, and thrown into confusion
they surrendered all further hope of
resistance. By the magnificent gallantry of
the H.L.I. in particular the victory was won.
.if h
.il fn=i_060.jpg id=sering w=60% alt='Battle scene'
.ca The Highland Light Infantry at Seringapatam
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: THE HIGHLAND LIGHT INFANTRY AT SERINGAPATAM]
.if-
The end of Tippoo Sahib was tragic if only
for its obscurity. The British troops, fighting
their way through the city, shot a wounded
officer supported amidst some native soldiery.
It was Tippoo Sahib, who, fearing capture above
everything, and fearing death not at all, was killed
in a last effort at resistance. He fell unknown
beneath the bodies of his followers, while all the
time the fight in the streets raged on. When the
last round was fired, 10,000 of the enemy had
fallen.
.pn +1 // Page 081.png
All India rejoiced over this exploit of the
British arms, bringing the end of an evil dynasty.
But peace had not yet dawned for India.
The death of Tippoo had taken place so suddenly
that an inspection of his correspondence
revealed the fact that he was not the only one
desirous of expelling the English. There were
communications from the Nawab of the Carnatic,
and very shortly afterwards that province was
added to the Madras Presidency with another
battle honour to the colours of the H.L.I.
We must now turn to the Mahrattas of Central
India. The first Mahratta war had been fought
in the time of Warren Hastings. The second
Mahratta war was conducted by Arthur Wellesley.
After some marching back and forth the British,
with whom were the H.L.I. under General
Wellesley, met the Indian army at Assaye, on the
23rd of September 1803. In this engagement the
Highlanders, and in particular the Seaforths and
H.L.I., who were both granted the ‘Elephant’
as a special badge, won particular notice. In the
course of this action, the Highlanders with their
comrades managed to defeat a force of ten times
their size. The conflict dragged on, however, a
battle against French Sepoy troops was fought
in Hindoostan, till finally the French Sepoys
were utterly dispersed at Laswari. This practically
concluded the work of the H.L.I. in India,
and in 1806 they were in action at the Cape of
Good Hope.
.pn +1 // Page 082.png
.sp 2
.ce
THE BATTLE HONOURS OF THE HIGHLAND LIGHT INFANTRY
Carnatic, Sholinghur, Mysore, Hindoostan, Seringapatam;
Cape of Good Hope, 1806; Rolica, Vimiera, Corunna,
Busaco, Fuentes de Oñoro, Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, Albuera,
Salamanca, Vittoria, Pyrenees, Nivelle, Nive, Orthez,
Toulouse, Peninsula, Waterloo; South Africa, 1851-1853;
Sevastopol, Central India; Egypt, 1882; Tel-el-Kebir;
South Africa, 1899-1902; Modder River.
.pn +1 // Page 083.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap08 title='8. How the Black Watch Won the Red Hackle (1795)'
CHAPTER VIII | HOW THE BLACK WATCH WON THE RED HACKLE | (1795)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
The sun rises bright in France
And fair sets he,
But he has lost the blithe blink he had
In my ain countrie.
Oh, gladness comes to many,
But sorrow comes to me,
As I look o’er the wide ocean
To my ain countrie.
Old Highland Air.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
It may appear that our last chapter, telling of an
action in 1799, has fallen out of place, but there
are sufficient reasons why it should come where
it does. The trouble with Tippoo Sahib commenced
very much sooner, only reaching its
climax at Seringapatam, while being at best but
an echo of the battle thunder in Europe.
We are now entering upon the first actions
in what was to prove a long and terrible war in
Europe. For long England had fought France
in America and India. From now until 1815
the conflict was to rage ever fiercer nearer home,
to break out in Flanders, to spread to Egypt,
.pn +1 // Page 084.png
to drench the Peninsula in blood, and finally to
return to the tragic plains of Belgium.
It is important to understand the reasons for
this new development.
In the annals of history the French Revolution,
that wild outbreak against oppression, stands
alone. Coming so swiftly, sweeping from anarchy
to anarchy, from one excess to another, passing
from bloodshed to bloodshed, from civil war to
international strife, from democracy to tyranny,
it stunned Europe into a stricken silence. Things
were happening which had never happened before.
Not only in France, but in many other countries
the voice of the people was heard in no uncertain
way, while even in Scotland, that country of old
causes, a poet, Robert Burns by name, was voicing
an altogether new sentiment. The future was
as dark and ominous then as it was on that fateful
August night in 1914, when, like wind hastening
across a dark stretch of country, the word was
passed that England was at war with Germany.
Against the dark background of the French
Revolution the conflict between England and
France had sunk into nothingness. Many are
the tales that depict the tragic story of the
Reign of Terror, perhaps the most frightful
explosion of human anarchy in the history
of the world. Innumerable are the instances
of heroism, courage, and sacrifice, that have lit
up that gloomy period. Were it not for actions
so noble and bravery so deathless such a story
would be better left untold. Later on, when
we come to an equally tragic episode in the
.pn +1 // Page 085.png
outbreak of the Indian Mutiny, it will be seen
how cruelty and death called forth as an inspiration
to Englishmen throughout eternity the
greater and more enduring qualities of self-sacrifice
and patriotism. It was that spirit,
however tarnished, of tradition that carried the
French nobility with unbroken composure to the
guillotine. It was this same tradition—but by
no means tarnished—that burned like a bright
flame in the hearts of Lawrence and John
Nicholson. The horrors of war are in themselves
of little account when the years have
passed. The thing that matters is the spirit
with which they are met and conquered.
.sp 2
In the troubles of the French people England
desired to take no share unless she was
compelled to guard her own interests. The time
came soon enough. Passing from arrogance to
arrogance, the National Assembly of France at
last issued a proclamation offering to assist any
nation in Europe against its rulers—or, as it was
pleased to call them, its oppressors. Upon that
declaration of anarchy the kings and emperors
prepared for war. In 1792 the French, defeating
the Austrians and Russians in Belgium, swarmed
over the frontiers, and the invasion of Holland
was planned. But just as England went to war
with Germany to avenge the violation of Belgium,
so she was prepared to sustain the independence
of Holland. So, on February 1st, 1793, war
was declared.
To return to the nearer issues of our regimental
.pn +1 // Page 086.png
story, the Black Watch embarked for
Flanders in 1793, joined the army under the
Duke of York at Menin, and marched to the
relief of Nieuport. Some time elapsed before
they saw service, but in 1794, having returned
in the meantime to England, they landed
at Ostend at a somewhat critical moment.
The approach of the French forces, coupled
with the uncertain attitude of Prussia, placed
the division of the Duke of York, then stationed
at Malines, at a disadvantage. Lord Moira,
who was in command of the Highlanders,
determined, if possible, to unite his forces with
those of the Duke. The troops were accordingly
formed up in the sand-dunes in marching
order and advanced towards Ostaker and Alost.
While they were stationed there, out of the night,
like Uhlans entering Brussels, came 400 French
cavalry, whom the Highlanders very naturally
mistook for their allies the Hessians. The enemy,
trotting through the streets reached the marketplace,
but when one of them made an attempt to
sabre a Highlander on the way, the trick was discovered.
The enraged soldier drawing his bayonet,
attacked the horseman. The alarm was given,
and the enemy were driven out by the Dragoons.
Shortly after, when Lord Moira had been succeeded
by Lieutenant-General Ralph Abercromby,
the British were beleaguered in Nimeguen. It
was deemed politic to evacuate this town, and
the Highlanders, with the other troops, began
one of the most terrible retreats in our history.
So piercing was the cold, although it was only
.pn +1 // Page 087.png
the beginning of November, that the enemy
crossed the Waal on the ice, pushing back the
English army behind the Leck. The French
had taken Tuil, and a few days later General
Dundas, with the aid of the Black Watch, drove
the enemy back again over the Waal. Again the
French advanced, and it fell to the Highlanders
as at Fontenoy to cover the British rear. Retreat
they must for fear of being outflanked. To make
matters worse the swift advance of the French
cavalry drove the Light Dragoons backward,
resulting in the loss of two guns.
It was at that critical moment that General
Dundas appealed to the Black Watch to recover
what the Dragoons had lost. Without hesitation,
but fired by the honour laid upon them, the
Highlanders charged headlong at the French
cavalry who fell into disorder. The artillery
horses had already fallen, but undismayed the
42nd pulled the precious guns home again.
It was a swift, minor incident, but at the
moment when the British army was in the heart
of a hostile and frost-bound country it stood out
of the dreary story like a splash of gold upon a
grey sky. Never have the Black Watch refused
the call, and very seldom have they failed.
It is recorded by Archibald Forbes in his
admirable History of the Black Watch that on the
rescue of the guns General Dundas addressed
the Highlanders saying, “Forty-second, the 11th
Dragoons shall never wear the red plume on their
helmets any more, and I hope the 42nd will carry
it so long as they are the Black Watch.” It
.pn +1 // Page 088.png
was this red plume or “hackle” that the gallant
42nd have worn on their feather bonnets to this
day, and on June 4, 1795, upon the King’s birthday,
it was first distributed.
This was to prove the only bright episode
in the retreat on Bremen. The numbers of
the enemy increased daily, the British were
not only in danger of defeat, but were in imminent
peril of starvation, were also ill equipped
for a campaign in the depths of winter, and
throughout the march endured the tacit hostility
of the peasantry on their line of route.
“Day after day,” says Mr. Fortescue in his
History of the British Army, “the cold steadily
increased; and those of the army that woke on
the morning of the 17th of January saw about
them such a sight as they never forgot. Far as
the eye could reach over the whitened plain were
scattered gun-limbers, waggons full of baggage,
stores, or sick men, sutlers’ carts, and private
carriages. Beside them lay the horses, dead;
here a straggler who had staggered on to the
bivouack and dropped asleep in the arms of the
frost; there a group of British and Germans
round an empty rum-cask; here forty English
Guardsmen huddled together about a plundered
waggon.... Had the retreat lasted but three or
four days longer, not a man would have escaped;
and the catastrophe would have found a place in
history side by side with the destruction of the
Army of Sennacherib and with the still more
terrible disaster of the retreat from Moscow.”
Out of all the army, only the Highlanders
.pn +1 // Page 089.png
endured the rigours of the weather and such
awful privation with any success, losing not more
than twenty-five dead.
That for the time being concluded the operations
of the Highland regiments on the Continent,
for in October 1795 the Government decided to
launch an attack directed against the ascendancy
of the French Republic in the West Indies.
.pn +1 // Page 090.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap09 title='9. With Abercromby in Egypt (1801)'
CHAPTER IX | WITH ABERCROMBY IN EGYPT | (1801)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Farewell to Lochaber, farewell to my Jean,
Where heart-some wi’ her I ha’e mony a day been;
For Lochaber no more, Lochaber no more,
We’ll maybe return to Lochaber no more.
Those tears that I shed they are all for my dear;
And no for the dangers attending on weir;
Tho’ borne on rough seas to a far distant shore,
Maybe to return to Lochaber no more.
Highland Burial March.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
To return to the main centre of operations is to
be confronted with the great figure of Napoleon.
The French Revolution gave birth to many
things, but the greatest force that it created
was that of Napoleon Bonaparte, who in his
meteoric genius embodied the spirit of the age.
He rose from a humble position in the army and
of poor parentage in Corsica, not only to be the
greatest man in France, but one of the greatest
men the world has ever seen. He took into his
hands the reins of power that were already slipping
from the leaders of the Revolution. He organised
the Revolutionary armies and led them to
victory; he brought out of the smoke of the
Reign of Terror a France purged and renewed.
.pn +1 // Page 091.png
Before setting his eyes upon England itself,
he determined to seize Egypt, and from there to
threaten the English power in India. Apparently
Pitt, although he was acquainted with the preparations
that were being put forward in the
harbours of France, did not fully realise what
was in the wind, so Nelson was sent post-haste
to the Mediterranean to reconnoitre. But
Napoleon gave Nelson the slip time and again,
and reached Egypt two days before the English
arrived. On August 1, however, Nelson came
across a line of thirteen French battleships in
Aboukir Bay. The French ships were lying
close to the shore while night was already falling.
Nelson, having divided his fleet into two divisions,
slipped down both flanks of the enemy’s line,
suddenly opening a double fire. His victory
was complete, only two French ships and two
frigates evading his pursuit. This ‘Battle of the
Nile,’ as it was called, shut up Napoleon in Egypt.
It did more than that, it encouraged Russia,
Austria, Turkey, and Naples to unite with
England in the Second Coalition.
In 1799 Napoleon, who was not satisfied to
remain in a helpless position in Egypt while
the Allies did what they liked in Europe, set out
across the desert to Palestine, and after engagements
at Jaffa and Acre—where he was beaten
by Sir Sydney Smith—he returned to Egypt,
and evading the English ships in the Mediterranean
reached France. Once there he speedily
drove the Government out of power, took the
control of affairs himself, with the title of First
.pn +1 // Page 092.png
Consul, and commenced his preparations for
the conquest of England. England was outwitted,
and the Allies, who had been delighted
to join a coalition while Napoleon was isolated
in Egypt, hastened now to come to terms with
France. And so England found herself faced
by the masked opposition of Europe and the
threatening of a French invasion. Her only
hope upon land lay in the Egyptian campaign
which we are now going to enter upon.
On December 21, 1800, the fleet conveying
the troops sailed in two divisions for Marmorice
on the coast of Greece, where the Turks, who at
that time were our Allies, were to provide a
reinforcement. With Abercromby were the Black
Watch, the Camerons, and the Gordons. Shortly
afterwards the fleet anchored in Aboukir Bay,
just where Nelson had won his victory nearly
three years before. Unfortunately a violent
gale sprang up, making it impossible to carry
out the disembarkation of the soldiers. This
delay enabled the French to prepare themselves
to resist the landing, and had it not been for
the remarkable qualities of the commanding
officer, Sir Ralph Abercromby, the troops might
have been faced with overwhelming disaster.
Abercromby was as able as the British Military
Secretary, Dundas, was incompetent. Despite
every obstacle that the futility of Dundas could
place in his path, he succeeded where a catastrophe
might have been judged unavoidable.
The British troops were kept months upon the
sea, reduced to a miserable state of health, and
.pn +1 // Page 093.png
landed in the teeth of a strong force of the enemy,
who, like the Turks in the Dardanelles, had had
ample warning of the scheme of operations.
Well might Abercromby, like many another
British general, remark, “There are risks in a
British warfare unknown in any other service.”
The enemy, who outnumbered him by two
to one, already held all the fortified positions
with a well-disciplined and acclimatised army,
supported by excellent artillery. Under these
circumstances the French could hardly believe
that the British would actually attempt to
land. Suddenly they saw the boats conveying
the soldiers heading for the shore, when without
delay they opened a terrific fire from their
batteries, also from the castle at Aboukir. At
Marmorice Abercromby had practised his troops
in the order of the attack. In the teeth of
the enemy, the British troops managed to reach
the beach, where they drove back the French,
and, hastily assembling, began to rush the face of
the hill. The enemy, utterly paralysed at the
rapidity of the assault, fired without accuracy or
discretion, even allowing the Black Watch to
form up and send a volley into their midst.
In the meantime, while these hills were being
assaulted, Major-General Moore (the future victor
of Corunna) had gained possession of the country
in his front, though sustaining a heavy loss.
Beaten in two quarters, the enemy retired
towards Alexandria, leaving the British to complete
their occupation of the shore, and the
landing of their stores and ammunition.
.pn +1 // Page 094.png
During the time devoted to this task the
French had managed to reinforce, being strongly
posted, when, on the morning of the 13th, the
British forces advanced to the attack. At the
head of the first column was the 90th Regiment
with the Gordon Highlanders. Far away behind
the French lines could be seen the port of Alexandria
buried amidst its immemorial ruins. There
was Cleopatra’s Needle, fated eventually to
crumble upon the banks of the Thames, Arabian
mosques and minarets, and over all that strange
and timeless atmosphere, of which centuries of
change have never been able to rob the East.
As this was the first engagement of the Gordon
Highlanders, and as we learn that its ranks were,
for the most part, filled with young soldiers
unacclimatised to the East, it is of interest to
record that it conducted itself with as much distinction
as any other battalion in the British
Army. “Opposed to a tremendous fire,” wrote
Sir R. Wilson, “and suffering severely from the
French line, the regiment never receded a foot,
but maintained the contest alone until the marines
and the rest of the fine came up to its support.”
For some reason or another the action was
ineffective. Sir Ralph Abercromby was now
faced with the task of reducing Alexandria, and
though his force had been so far successful, the
advantage had been gained at some cost. To
move artillery over a sandy desert requires a
large number of horses, in which respect the
British were very much inferior to the French.
Our sailors, always handy men, lent their assistance
.pn +1 // Page 095.png
to the soldiers to drag the wheels out of the
sand, and in this manner the British approached
the entrenched position held by the French in
front of the city. The position of the British
army at this stage had few natural advantages
beyond the sea upon the right flank, and Lake
Maadieh upon the left. There were also some
ruins supposed to have been the ancient Palace
of the Ptolemies.
An hour before the dawn on the day of the
21st, the French troops were on the move, but
the British were not taken by surprise, and
awaited the enemy in absolute silence. The
morning was very dark and cloudy. Coming
across the sand the tramp of the enemy was
almost deadened. The French attack was made
simultaneously upon the ruins, the redoubt, and
the wing, held by the Black Watch, but was
utterly repulsed. Falling back, the enemy sent
forward another column with a six-pounder, and
so stealthily did they advance that they were
between the left of the Black Watch and the right
of the Guards before they were seen. Colonel
Stewart, who was in command of the Highlanders,
acted with promptitude, manœuvring the
42nd so cleverly that the enemy was caught
between two fires. The desperate Frenchmen
rushed into the ruins, where they were received
by a murderous fusillade. Through this predicament
the gallant but unfortunate body of
‘Invincibles’ were forced to surrender after a
very heavy loss.
Hearing that the French were again attacking,
.pn +1 // Page 096.png
General Abercromby rode up, shouting, “My
brave Highlanders, remember your country, remember
your forefathers,” at which the Black
Watch, raising a cheer, charged the enemy.
They cheered too soon, for at that moment the
French cavalry cantered forward to cover the
retreat of their infantry. Immediately Colonel
Stewart sent the order for the Highlanders to
fall back, but for some reason or another these
directions were not received, and the ragged line
of the advancing Black Watch was suddenly confronted
by a charge of horse. It was a time when
undisciplined troops might well have broken,
but the Highlanders stood firm, receiving the
shock as coolly as the 93rd awaited the Russian
cavalry at Balaclava. The French General,
alarmed at the repulse of his troops, hurried
forward a column of infantry, but this body
also was beaten off by the Highlanders. A
second troop of cavalry advanced to meet with
no better success, and shortly afterwards General
Stuart’s brigade reinforced the 42nd. It was
now eight o’clock in the morning and nothing
decisive had occurred, although the British had
more than held their own. Unfortunately their
ammunition had given out, so they had to
endure the unceasing cannonade of the French
guns without being able to reply. The situation
was enough to unman any troops. An
eye-witness has recorded: “The army suffered
exceedingly from their fire, particularly the
Highlanders and the right of General Stuart’s
brigade, who were exposed without cover to its
.pn +1 // Page 097.png
full effect, being posted on a level piece of
ground, over which the cannon shot rolled after
striking the ground, and carried off a file of them
at every successive rebound. This was more
trying to the courage and discipline of the troops
than the former attacks, but the trial was supported
with perfect steadiness. Not a man
moved from his position, except to close up the
opening made by the shot, when his right or
left-hand man was struck down ... To stand
in this manner with perfect firmness, exposed
to a galling fire, without any object to engage
the attention or occupy the mind, and without
the power of making the smallest resistance,
was a trial of the character of the British soldier,
to which the enemy did full justice.”
At last the French, thoroughly disheartened
with the morning’s encounter, retreated back
to their position before Alexandria, and the
action was over. At the same moment Sir
Ralph Abercromby, being mortally wounded,
retired from the field. He was carried on board
the Foudroyant, where he lay for some days,
dying on the morning of the 28th. As a contemporary
paper wrote of him, “his life was
honourable, so his death was glorious. His
memory will be recorded in the annals of his
country, will be sacred to every British soldier
and embalmed in the memory of a grateful
posterity.”
The action had been a severe test of the
endurance of the Highlanders, and there were
many who were buried in the desert sand never
.pn +1 // Page 098.png
to see Lochaber or the Highland glens again.
Those of the Black Watch who survived the fierce
engagement prided themselves upon the standard
of the French Invincibles and upon the word
‘Egypt’ added for all time to their regimental
honours. The Camerons and Gordons for conspicuous
distinction also added ‘The Sphinx’
to their regimental colours.
The command now fell upon General Hutchinson,
who remained for some time before Alexandria,
but very shortly proceeded to Cairo,
taking up his position four miles from that city
on June 16. Opposed to him was a force of
13,000 Frenchmen. But the French commander
was only too anxious to surrender, on condition
that his army was sent to France with their arms,
baggage, and effects. It is probable that he had
received instructions that his force would prove
of more service in Europe.
Only the fall of Alexandria now remained to
complete the conquest of Egypt. The French,
finding themselves surrounded on two sides by
a British army of some 14,000 men, cut off from
the sea, and unable to retire on the south, capitulated
on September 2. The collapse of hostilities,
as swift as it was decisive, terminated the service
of the Highland regiments in Egypt.
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.h2 id=chap10 title='10. The Retreat on Corunna (1808-1809)'
CHAPTER X | THE RETREAT ON CORUNNA | (1808-1809)
.sp 2
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Wail loudly, ye women, your coronach doleful,
Lament him, ye pipers, tread solemn and slow.
Old Highland Lament.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
During the years that the Highland regiments
were on home service many eventful things took
place. By the Peace of Amiens, England had
surrendered almost all her conquests to Napoleon.
She had promised to give up Malta and various
places in the Mediterranean; she retained no
territory in Africa. In the West Indies, which
had cost the British army so many lives, she
owned only Trinidad. She had also relinquished
the claims of the Bourbons, which she had
formerly supported, and she—no matter how
grudgingly—recognised the authority of the
Emperor. But it was obvious to everybody that
the renewal of hostilities was only a question
of time. Napoleon—just as much as the Kaiser
at a later date—had set his heart on the downfall
of England. His spies were everywhere, his
network of information was immense, and he was
determined, if he could not overwhelm her in
arms, to strangle her in trade. He plotted to
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cause trouble in India—and here again it would
seem unnecessary to provide a parallel. He
attempted to reconquer Egypt. It therefore
seemed politic to England, since bloodshed was
inevitable, to enter upon a conflict before
Napoleon was supreme upon the Continent, and
by refusing to leave Malta (according to the
agreement of Amiens), war broke out again in
May 1803.
For the next two years our country was fated
to fight France single-handed, and, until the
battle of Trafalgar ensured our supremacy
upon the sea, there was above everything else
one scheme very close to the heart of Napoleon,
and that the invasion of England. An army
of at least 150,000 men was assembled at
Boulogne, while, for their transport many hundreds
of flat-bottomed boats were built, and
just as the German fleet watched every opportunity
to emerge and hold, even for a short
time, the Channel and the North Sea, so the ships
of Napoleon rode at anchor in the French ports,
ever ready to dart out should the opportunity
arise. Once the control of the Channel was
gained they would be able to protect the transport
of soldiers to English shores. It is interesting
to see what our forefathers did to counteract this
danger. All along the coast they built little watch-towers—many
of which can still be seen—called
Martello Towers. These were manned by small
parties of soldiers, and provided with artillery.
The Thames was fortified, and great bodies of
volunteers were enrolled for the defence of the
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coast. Hardly a man but was in uniform, and
the thoughts of every Briton were devoted to
the safety of our country. Fortunately the British
Navy shut the French ships within their own
ports. Cornwallis, with a portion of the English
fleet, locked up a French squadron at Brest.
Nelson, with another detachment, enclosed the
enemy at Toulon, whilst two other English
admirals kept close watch at other points of
danger.
In those days, when sailing ships could ill
withstand stormy weather, but when, on the
other hand, the dangers of submarines and mines
did not exist, the vigil was not only wearisome,
but also critical; for it must be remembered
that if a great storm had swept the Channel, the
coast of England might in a few hours have been
left open to the invader.
So the weeks passed on, and it was borne in
upon Napoleon that he would never gain the
cliffs of Kent. He was the last man to waste
his time with vain regrets, and postponing the
humiliation of England he gave the order for
his troops to march into Germany. But we were
far from humiliation, for on October 21, 1805, was
celebrated the crushing naval victory of Trafalgar.
Too often has victory been bought with a
great national loss, and just as the conquest of
Quebec brought with it the pathetic end of Wolfe,
the success in Egypt the loss of Sir Ralph Abercromby,
Corunna the tragedy of Sir John Moore,
so this glorious victory carried with it that
greatest of all calamities, the death of Nelson.
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But Trafalgar was the last supreme event in the
naval struggle between Napoleon and England;
henceforth he must confine his conquests and
his hopes to the army and the Continent.
In the same year as Trafalgar was fought and
won, and Austria, Russia, and England were
again united in a coalition, Napoleon gained
the victory of Ulm, and very shortly afterwards
was again triumphant at Austerlitz. Before the
end of 1805 Austria, never very reliable at such
times, appealed for peace. The Coalition was
staggering under one blow after another. Well
might Pitt, on his death-bed at the beginning
of 1806, breathe out his despairing spirit with the
words, “My country, how I leave my country!”
The grasp that Napoleon was laying about
the kingdoms of Europe was strengthened from
year to year. He made his brother Joseph
King of Naples, his brother Louis ruler of
Holland, and Jerome King of Westphalia. In
1807 he came to terms with the Czar of Russia,
forcing him to agree, together with Portugal,
Sweden, and Denmark, to a coalition against
England. And in the meantime he started
what has been called his Continental System—an
attempt to beat England to her knees by
destroying her commerce. He forbade, in other
words, the importation of English trade into
any country over which he had established his
control. In this way one port after another shut
its doors to English ships. By this means it
seemed likely that England, growing less wealthy,
would be weakened, and in course of time—and
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he had many years of promise before him—he
would finally force her to capitulate at his own
terms. Unfortunately for Napoleon’s schemes,
a blockade is useless unless it is universal. It
was therefore essential to conquer those remaining
countries that were not prepared to surrender
their trade with Great Britain.
Principally owing to this policy the Spanish
War broke out, a war that was to add not merely
to the prestige of the British arms, but to the
ultimate undermining of French supremacy.
It is with the Peninsular War that we shall
be immediately interested, but it is necessary,
before following out its story, to realise the
infinite importance that lay in its success. Times
of stress have a way of providing their own
remedy, and even while the British nation,
mourning the death of Nelson, was thinking how
dark the future looked, Arthur Wellesley, future
Duke of Wellington, was waiting for the hour of
his destiny to strike.
In Spain, Napoleon, having compelled the
king to abdicate, had placed the power in the
hands of his brother Joseph, formerly king of
Naples. This arrogant action irritated the
Spanish nation to the point of insurrection.
England, swift to seize such a chance, despatched
a fleet and an army to assist the rebels, and
Wellesley, who had already made his name in
India, was placed in command of the British
troops.
Acting with his amazing rapidity, Napoleon
hastened to Spain, pouring his victorious armies
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to the very outskirts of Madrid. It seemed for
a moment as though the cause of Spain was
already lost. There was no force strong enough
to challenge Napoleon. But there was a man
with the genius to outwit him. That was Sir
John Moore. With him were the Black Watch,
the Gordons, and the Camerons, under the command
of Sir John Hope. Moore attempted to
unite his forces with those of Sir David Baird,
but, failing to effect this, he resolved upon the
desperate expedient of threatening Napoleon’s
lines of communication and enticing him from
his advance.
The French general Soult was near a place
called Saldana, where, after some deliberation,
Moore decided that it would be unwise to
attack him, as he had apparently received
large reinforcements. Napoleon was marching
inland from Madrid with 40,000 infantry and
cavalry, while other French generals with their
divisions were on the move towards the north
of Spain. For Moore to take the offensive would
have been madness. To retreat and go on retreating
was a stroke of military genius.
It must not be thought that this retreat was
entirely uneventful; indeed it was lit up by some
of the most daring and brilliant actions in our
history. Hot upon the trail of the British
rearguard came the advance guard of the French
army, but on no single occasion did our soldiers
suffer a reverse. And yet it was a hazardous
undertaking.
Moore’s army was in hourly peril. He realised
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only too well that “it must glide along the
edge of a precipice; must cross a gulf on a
rotten plank; but he also knew the martial
quality of his soldiers, felt the pulsation of his
own genius, and, the object being worthy the
deed, he dared essay it even against Napoleon.”
The pursuit by Napoleon was only less wonderful
than the retreat of Moore. It was the heart
of winter and the hills were choked with snow,
yet Napoleon drove his forces over the mountain
peaks and transported 50,000 men from
Madrid to Astorga in a shorter period of time
than would have taken a traveller to cover the
same distance. At Astorga the French Emperor
halted to read despatches, new come from the
French capital. Napier tells us that when he
received the despatches he dismounted from his
horse, and ordering a fire to be lighted, threw
himself down beside it. The snow was falling
and it was bitterly cold, but he remained calm
and unaffected, reading words that were to send
him post-haste to Paris. News had come that
Austria was again in arms against France.
Leaving Soult and Ney with 60,000 men, Napoleon
took to horse, and, accompanied by his Imperial
Guard, made off at a gallop towards the Pyrenees,
and so to Paris. It was left to Soult to continue
the pursuit of Moore, and learn a lesson in war
from the English general. In that immortal
retreat the English forces lost not one gun, nor
allowed their rearguard to be routed.
At the same time we must not under-estimate
the tragic character of the march, nor the superb
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endurance of the soldiers, especially the Highlanders.
Dr. Fitchett has, in his Fights for the
Flag, printed portions of the memoirs of an English
soldier who took part in the Peninsular campaign,
and this man—Harris by name—throws sidelights
of vivid colour upon incidental experiences.
“A sergeant of the 92nd Highlanders,” he records,
“just about this time fell dead with fatigue, and
no one stopped as we passed to offer him any
assistance. Night came down upon us without
our having tasted food or halted, and all night
long we continued this dreadful march. Men
began to look into each other’s faces and ask
the question, ‘Are we ever to be halted again?’
and many of the weaker sort were now seen to
stagger, make a few desperate efforts, and then
fall, perhaps to rise no more. Most of us had
devoured all we carried in our haversacks and
endeavoured to catch up anything we could
snatch from hut or cottage in our route....
‘Where are you taking us to?’ the Rifleman
asked his officer. ‘To England,’ was the answer,
‘if we get there!’ At that ‘the men began
to murmur at not being permitted to turn and
stand at bay, cursing the French and swearing
they would rather die ten thousand deaths with
their rifles in their hands in opposition, than
endure the present toil.’”
It is our purpose in this book to follow the
fortunes of the Highland regiments, but that in
itself would make a distorted picture if we were
not prepared to remember that other regiments
bore as gallant a share during the various campaigns.
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Amongst these regiments the Rifles took
a particularly glorious part in the Peninsular,
and especially in the retreat to Corunna. They
were commanded by General Craufurd, of whom
Harris has written: “The Rifles being always at
his heels, he seemed to think them his familiars.
If he stopped his horse, and halted to deliver
one of his stern reprimands, you would see half
a dozen lean, unshaven, shoeless, and savage
Riflemen, standing for the moment leaning upon
their weapons, and scowling up in his face as he
scolded; and when he dashed the spurs into his
reeking horse, they would throw up their rifles
upon their shoulders and hobble after him
again.”
Few generals have ever enjoyed the confidence
and respect that Moore inspired in the hearts of
his men. His influence upon the officers under
him was so exceptional that hardly one who
came under his spell but lived to achieve distinction
in the years to come.
At last Moore with his ragged army entered
Corunna, and the retreat was accomplished.
Now had the ships been at anchor, as they should
have been, the army could have embarked without
further delay, and when the French came up
might have been in safety. But as there was no
sign of the transports, Moore decided to fortify
the town and prepare to resist an attack. On the
14th of January several transports were sighted,
and immediately the sick, the cavalry, and part of
the artillery were placed on board. On the 16th
the situation became very critical, and an assault
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was imminent. The division of General Hope
held the left of the British line of battle, and included,
amongst others, the Gordon Highlanders,
while on the right, under General Baird, were the
Black Watch, and to the right again, under Sir
David Baird, were the Cameron Highlanders. The
enemy opened the attack, and under the direction
of their artillery advanced in four columns,
reserving a fifth in support. General Moore,
approaching the Black Watch, cried out, “Highlanders,
remember Egypt!” Visions of Alexandria
sprang up in the minds of the Highlanders,
and under the inspiration of such words they
advanced at a run, and flung back the French
at the point of the bayonet. Meanwhile Paget’s
counter-attack was launched.
After this spirited encounter the 42nd began
to retire, discovering that their ammunition
threatened to give out, at which Moore addressed
them again, crying, “My brave 42nd, join your
comrades; ammunition is coming, and you have
your bayonets.” Immediately after this a ball
struck the British general, bringing him to the
ground. For a time he supported himself, still
regarding with an intense expression the engagement
in which the Highlanders were taking so
remarkable a part. Captain Hardinge leapt from
his horse and came to his assistance, but observing
that he was distressed about the action, reassured
him that the Black Watch were advancing, upon
which he was immediately cheered up.
Captain Hardinge has given an account of
this event. “The violence of the shock,” he
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wrote, “threw him off his horse on his back.
Not a muscle of his face altered, nor did a sigh
betray the least sensation of pain. I dismounted,
and taking his hand, he pressed me forcibly,
casting his eyes very anxiously towards the 42nd
Regiment which was hotly engaged, and his
countenance expressed satisfaction when I informed
him that the regiment was advancing.
Assisted by a soldier of the 42nd, he was removed
a few yards behind the shelter of a wall. He
consented to be taken to the rear, and was put
into a blanket for that purpose.... He was borne
by six soldiers of the 42nd and Guardsmen, my
sash supporting him in an easy manner. I
caught at the hope that I might be mistaken in
my fear that the wound was mortal, and I remarked
that I trusted that when the surgeon had
dressed his wound he might recover. He turned
his head, and looking steadfastly at the wound
for a few moments, said, ‘No, Hardinge, I feel
that to be impossible.’”
In this sad fashion, borne by a sergeant of
the Black Watch and two files of Highlanders,
Sir John Moore was carried into Corunna.
Throughout the journey he persisted on stopping
at intervals in order to learn how the action
proceeded, expressing his satisfaction when the
noise of firing appeared to be dying away in the
distance as an indication that the French were in
retreat.
“Thus ended,” writes Napier so finely, “the
career of Sir John Moore, a man whose uncommon
capacity was sustained by the purest
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virtue, and governed by a disinterested patriotism
more in keeping with the primitive than
the luxurious age of a great nation. His tall,
graceful person, his dark searching eyes, strongly
defined forehead, and singularly expressive
mouth indicated a noble disposition and a refined
understanding. The lofty sentiments of honour
habitual to his mind, adorned by a subtle playful
wit, gave him in conversation an ascendancy
that he always preserved by the decisive
vigour of his actions. He maintained the right
with a vehemence bordering upon fierceness,
and every important transaction in which he
was engaged increased his reputation for talent,
and confirmed his character as a stern enemy
to vice, a steadfast friend to merit, a just and
faithful servant of his country. The honest
loved him, the dishonest feared him; for while
he lived he scorned and spurned the base, who,
with characteristic propriety, spurned at him
when he was dead.”
After this melancholy event there was nothing
further to prevent the army embarking in their
transports and sailing for England. One division,
in which the Black Watch was included, landed
at Portsmouth, and the other at Plymouth.
Throughout the campaign the Highland regiments,
particularly the Black Watch and the
Camerons, were never more worthy of the growing
reputation of the Highland soldiers—a reputation
that was to shine still brighter at Fuentes
de Onoro, Quatre Bras, and Waterloo.
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.sp 4
.h2 id=chap11 title='11. With the Camerons in the Peninsular (1810-1814)'
CHAPTER XI | WITH THE CAMERONS IN THE PENINSULAR | (1810-1814)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
I hear the pibroch sounding, sounding,
Deep o’er the mountain and glen,
While light springing footsteps are trampling the heath,
’Tis the march of the Cameron Men.
Regimental March.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
The 1st Battalion of the famous Cameron Highlanders
was founded in 1793 by Alan Cameron of
Erracht, Inverness-shire, and owed its formation
to the danger of invasion from France. The
2nd Battalion was not embodied until 1897.
The Camerons have not seen so much service
as the other Highland regiments, but have always
displayed daring bravery.
As we have seen in our last chapter the
regiment won battle honours at Corunna, but
at Fuentes de Oñoro it established a reputation.
Between the years 1809 and 1813 Wellington
was in command of three armies in the Peninsular—his
own English army, an admirable
veteran force, the Portuguese troops commanded
by Beresford, and the Spaniards. The latter
were not very serviceable in the field, but had
a perfect genius for guerilla warfare, and as
they knew the country intimately and were not
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compelled to keep together, they proved a
constant menace and irritation to the French,
threatening their communications, cutting off
their supplies, and sniping soldiers on the march
or in camp. Wellington was anxious to establish
his base in Portugal, and from there to push
back the French until Spain was free. This task
occupied him for four years, but in that time he
was fighting not only for England but for Europe
as well. The Peninsular War may appear a
very small campaign in comparison with the vast
movements of Napoleon, but it was sapping
the strength of France. It drained Napoleon’s
forces of some of their best and most reliable
troops, and humiliated them in the eyes of the
world. Napoleon might be victorious himself,
but his arms and his generals suffered one defeat
after another at the hands of Wellington. The
legend of invincibility was broken, and all over
Europe hope sprang into life once more.
The Highland regiments did not leave for
Portugal in a brigade. The Camerons were with
Wellington at Busaco on September 25, 1810,
whereas the 2nd Battalion of the Black Watch did
not embark for Portugal until April 1812.
The Camerons were commanded by Major-General
Alan Cameron, and resisted the advance
of the French general, Massena, prior to the
retirement of the British army behind the lines
of Torres Vedras. The long winter broke the
strength of the enemy, and in the spring the
battle of Fuentes de Oñoro was fought. In this
action the following Highland regiments were
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engaged—the Highland Light Infantry, the
Gordons, the 1st Battalion of the Black Watch,
and the Camerons. Perhaps more than any
other regiment the Camerons excelled upon that
day.
Wellington had already invested the fortress
of Almeida, and to break the advance of Massena
he occupied the district between the two villages
of Fuentes de Oñoro in Spain, and Villa Formosa
in Portugal. It was on May 3 that Massena
hurled his assault upon the former, where the
Camerons and the H.L.I. were stationed.
Throughout the whole of one day the French
strove to capture the village, and at times it was
touch and go whether the British would not be
compelled to evacuate the place.
A Cameron Highlander, who fought in the
action, has recorded his experiences. “The
village,” he says, referring to the initial stage of
the engagement, “was now vigorously attacked
by the enemy at two points, and with such a
superior force, that, in spite of the unparalleled
bravery of our troops, they were driven back,
contesting every inch of the ground. On our
retreat through the village we were met by the
71st Regiment (H.L.I.), cheering and led on by
Colonel Cadogan, which had been detached from
the line to our support. The chase was now
turned, and although the French were obstinately
intent on keeping their ground, and so
eager that many of their cavalry had entered the
town and rushed furiously down the streets, all
their efforts were in vain; nothing could withstand
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the charge of the gallant 71st, and in a
short time, in spite of all resistance, they cleared
the village.”
But that was only the initial attack. Upon
May 5, Massena came seriously to the assault.
The light companies had now been withdrawn,
leaving the H.L.I. and Camerons to hold the
position.
In the morning the fiercest attack was made
by the French. For a time they carried everything
before them. The English cavalry was
driven back, Ramsay’s horse artillery being cut
off, and apparently captured. Mad with victory
the French squadrons came full at the British
infantry. Two companies of the Camerons were
taken after a gallant resistance. The flood of
the enemy passed on, obliterating the detachments
of the defenders as surf covers the shore.
Backwards the remainder of the Camerons and
H.L.I. were forced, till at the chapel they made
their stand. That day was full of brilliant
incidents. One of the most dramatic and
picturesque was the return of Ramsay, with his
artillery cleaving the ranks of the French as a
scythe cleaves the grain. Another was the spirit
with which the Black Watch met the French
cavalry as they galloped in dense squadrons
upon the British lines. Down went their
bayonets, the Highland ranks stood grim and
unshaken as a granite rock. The cavalry flung
themselves with desperate bravery upon the steel,
recoiling towards their own lines, broken and
defeated.
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In the meantime the Camerons were carrying
on their forlorn struggle, and at the climax
of the battle they suffered their greatest loss.
Captain Jameson has recorded how “a French
soldier was observed to slip aside into a
doorway and take deliberate aim at Colonel
Cameron, who fell from his horse mortally
wounded. A cry of grief, intermingled with
shouts for revenge, arose from the rearmost
Highlanders, who witnessed the fall of their
commanding officer, and was rapidly communicated
to those in front.”
The rage of the Highlanders knew no bounds.
They flung themselves upon the French, who,
surprised by the desperate vigour of the charge,
were driven back. Supported by the H.L.I., the
Camerons turned the scales at this point, and with
the arrival of Wellington’s reserves the battle
of Fuentes de Oñoro was won.
Ciudad Rodrigo was the next place to fall.
We are told that the story of the assault can
never be adequately described, and the bravery
and determination displayed by the British troops
was beyond all praise. It was certainly a
masterly feat to assemble 40,000 men about the
fortress of Castile without arousing the suspicion
of the enemy, and following this up by a successful
assault, capturing the stores and artillery of
Marmont’s forces.
In a similar manner Badajoz was surrounded
by 30,000 men, and three attacks were planned—on
the right by Picton, in the centre by Colville,
and on the left by Leith. The soldiers swarmed
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up the ruins in the broken walls, to be hurled
down again and again by the besieged. With
dogged courage they still persisted, and carried
the place by storm, with a loss of 2000 killed and
wounded. Portugal was saved.
It was early in June that Wellington began to
move towards Salamanca. Of that engagement
Napier has written: “Salamanca was the first
decisive victory gained by the Allies in the
Peninsula. In former actions the French had
been repulsed; here they were driven headlong,
as it were into a mighty wind without help or
stay ... and the shock reaching even to Moscow
heaved and shook the colossal structure of
Napoleon’s power to its very base.”
For their part in this battle the Camerons and
H.L.I. were allowed to add the name ‘Salamanca’
to their battle honours.
Although the wars in the Peninsula were not
‘Highlanders’ battles’ in the way the Crimean and
Indian Mutiny campaigns were—yet the regiments
principally engaged, namely the Black Watch,
Camerons, Gordons, and H.L.I., fought with
the greatest distinction and gallantry.
On September 9, 1812, the Black Watch and
Camerons stormed the hill of San Michael, carrying
ladders and splicing them together under the
very walls. A terrific fire was opened on them as
they ascended, and for a long time every man
who clambered to the top of the ladder was
certain of death. This signal slaughter so discouraged
the Portuguese that they would on
no account support the Highlanders, and for this
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reason their loss of life was of no avail, as it was
impossible to storm the garrison without reinforcements.
And so Burgos was doomed to be
a failure, and the retreat began. The loss of
the 42nd in the storming of San Michael was
exceedingly heavy, and with the abandonment
of the siege the allied forces gave up the attempt
and withdrew to the frontier of Portugal, where
winter quarters were established.
In 1813 Wellington set his face towards
France. With Graham were the Black Watch,
the Camerons, and the Argyllshire Highlanders.
Colin Campbell, who had been with Moore, and
who was to see service in the Crimea and in the
Mutiny, was in one of the battalions under
Graham.
On the 20th of June Wellington was nearing
Vittoria, while Graham, who had been despatched
southward, was to attack the French right and
force the passage of the Zadora. Graham approached
this valley of the Zadora on the 21st,
but before advancing it was essential that the
enemy’s troops should be driven across the river.
This was accomplished successfully, and by
this action Graham cut off the French from
their only way of retreat to Bayonne, and the
only possible road was rendered altogether impassable
by the confusion of the troops and
baggage. As an authority has pungently written,
“Never was there a defeat more decisive, the
French were beaten before the town, and in the
town, and through the town, and out of the town,
and behind the town”; indeed so thoroughly
.pn +1 // Page 118.png
were they beaten that the whole French force at
Vittoria relinquished its baggage, guns, stores,
and papers, making it impossible to know what
was owing or what was to be done, while even
the commanding officers suffered considerably
from an absence of clothes. In this action the
H.L.I. lost very heavily. Their commanding
officer, Colonel Henry Cadogan, gave them the
lead, and almost immediately was mortally
wounded. Like Wolfe at Quebec, his sole
anxiety was whether the French were beaten,
and the same answer was given him, “They
are giving way everywhere.”
On that eventful day the H.L.I. lost 400
officers and men, the toll of gallantry commemorated
in the jingle:
.pm verse-start
Loud was the battle’s stormy swell,
Where thousands fought and many fell,
But the 71st they bore the bell,
At the battle of Vittoria.
.pm verse-end
During the campaign of the Pyrenees the
Highland regiments were not members of the
brigades that saw most of the fighting. We
have dealt with their achievements under Graham,
and we must not forget that the 42nd were
rewarded with the word ‘Pyrenees’ to commemorate
the success of their arms, but on the
whole the brunt of the fighting fell to other
troops.
In September San Sebastian was taken, and on
October 7 the passage of the Bidassoa was carried,
upon which the British troops caught their first
glimpse of the country of France, and, rushing
.pn +1 // Page 119.png
up the slopes on the other side of the river,
carried the Croix des Bouquets stronghold.
Along the river Nivelle rose the French lines
of fortifications, but the British troops, in no
way disheartened, forded the river on November
10, and carried the position by storm. It was
for this action that the Royal Highlanders display
the word ‘Nivelle’ upon their regimental
colours. The humiliation which Soult suffered
was in no way lessened by the desertion of his
German troops, who, learning that their country
had decided to throw off the tyranny of France,
marched over to the Allies. Presently the French
fell back towards Orthez, but a severe defeat
compelled Soult to retire altogether from the
coast towards Toulouse, after a loss of some
8000 men. By the first week in March the Allies
were in hot pursuit, with Beresford threatening
Bordeaux.
The campaign was approaching its final stages,
and it was high time. “The clothing of the
army at large,” records a Highlander, “but the
Highland Brigade in particular, was in a very
tattered state. The clothing of the 91st Regiment
had been two years in wear, the men were thus
under the necessity of repairing their old garments
in the best manner they could. Some had the
elbows of their coats mended with grey cloth,
others had one-half of the sleeve of a different
colour from the body; their trousers were in
equally as bad a condition as their coats. The
42nd, which was the only corps in the Brigade
that wore the kilt, was beginning to lose it by
.pn +1 // Page 120.png
degrees. Men falling sick and left in the rear
frequently got the kilt made into trousers, and
on joining the regiment again no plaid could be
furnished to supply the loss....
“It is impossible to describe the painful state
that some shoeless men were in, crippling along
the way, their feet cut or torn by sharp stones
or brambles. To remedy the want of shoes, the
raw hides of the newly-slaughtered bullocks were
given to cut up on purpose to form a sort of
buskins for the bare-footed soldiers.”
The writer finishes his reflections upon a
cheerful note—just as true to-day as it was a
hundred years ago. “We were getting hardier
and stronger every day in person; the more we
suffer the more confidence we feel in our strength;
all in health and no sickness.”
On April 10, 1814, came the first movement
towards the last decisive battle of Toulouse,
and the final and culminating victory of the
arduous Peninsular War was about to take place.
Wellington was in command of some 40,000
Anglo-Portuguese troops, 12,000 Spanish troops,
and 84 pieces of cannon. Under Soult were
some 38,000 men, in addition to which there
were the National Guard of the city, while 80
guns defended the formidable ramparts constructed
by the townsfolk of Toulouse.
Wellington advanced the Spanish, who, displaying
great courage, were successful in driving
the French back on to their own fortifications.
At the same time the lines of redoubt on the
right were taken and carried by General Pack’s
.pn +1 // Page 121.png
brigade with the Black Watch, Camerons, and
Argylls. Unfortunately the Spaniards were not
sufficiently experienced or proven to withstand
the fire from the French batteries, and for a
time were disorganised. On the extreme right
Picton had not been any more successful.
This repulse of the Spaniards disarranged to
some extent the plan of attack, and Beresford’s
artillery was hurried up to shell the heights.
After a brief rest the assault again began. With
heroic courage the Spaniards advanced in the teeth
of a heavy fire, but in each case were repulsed.
General Pack’s brigade was then ordered to
attack the works at the two centre redoubts
under the full range of the enemy’s fire. It is
recorded that they did not return a shot, but
advanced with perfect steadiness. Before the
Highlanders lay the enemy’s entrenchment, while
“darkening the whole hill, flanked by clouds of
cavalry, and covered by the fire of their redoubt,
the enemy came down on us like a torrent, their
generals and field-officers riding in front, and
waving their hats amidst the shouts of the multitude,
resembling the roar of an ocean.”
The Highlanders, unmoved by the spectacle,
fired a volley which was returned by the French,
then without pause charged the position, taking
the redoubt. It was a brilliant piece of work,
carried out mainly by the Black Watch and the
Camerons.
Shortly after, General Pack rode up and uttered
the following words: “I have just now been
with General Clinton, and he has been pleased
.pn +1 // Page 122.png
to grant my request, that in the charge we are
now about to make upon the enemy’s redoubts,
the 42nd shall have the honour of leading the
attack. The 42nd will advance.”
During the next few minutes the artillery
poured their fire upon the Black Watch. Men
fell in heaps. There was only one thing to do
before the regiment was annihilated, and that
was to rush the batteries. Not a hundred of the
500 who had started were left when the redoubt
was taken. But it was impossible to hold such a
position with only a handful of men. The remnant
of the Black Watch retired towards the Argyllshires,
who were in position near a farmhouse. The
enemy, determined to recover the lost ground,
nearly achieved their purpose. With a force
of some five or six thousand men advancing
under sheltered ground they rushed impetuously
upon the Black Watch, who were forced by
sheer weight of numbers to fall back upon the
91st. It was but a momentary retirement.
Suddenly, irresistibly, the two Highland regiments
crashed upon the disordered front of the enemy.
Panic overcame the French. Victory was assured.
It was the Highland regiments, and the Black
Watch above all, that, in Fitchett’s opinion, saved
Wellington from a reverse at Toulouse. Anton
relates that, having once started towards the
French entrenchments over ground difficult to
manœuvre on, it would have meant annihilation
to retreat. It was only the invincible character
of the Highlanders’ charge that carried them
to victory.
.pn +1 // Page 123.png
Toulouse was still within the range of the
British artillery, and Soult decided to evacuate
that evening, in order to avoid a siege without
very much chance of holding out long. It was
humiliating for a Field-Marshal of France to
surrender the capital of the second Province,
within whose walls a veteran army, that had
already conquered two kingdoms, had rushed
for protection following a series of defeats at
the hand of Wellington.
The troops of Great Britain had come to
the liberation of Spain and Portugal; had fought
eight pitched battles against commanders only
second to Napoleon, and had “out-manœuvred,
out-marched, out-flanked, and overturned their
enemy.” There only remained the decisive
actions of Quatre Bras and Waterloo to convince
Napoleon himself that the British Army and
the British leader were not to be despised.
Toulouse was the final battle and the decisive
victory of the Peninsular War. In a manner,
however, Toulouse was more spectacular than
serviceable, for eight days before the action took
place Napoleon had resigned his crown; and
while Wellington was beating back Soult step
by step, first to the Pyrenees, then to Vittoria,
to San Sebastian, and then to Toulouse, the
enormous forces of the Allies were with the same
inevitable progress driving the army of Napoleon
towards Paris. Beaten in the field, and distrusted
in Paris, he decided that the time had
come to throw himself upon the mercy of the
Allies, if by abdicating his throne he might
.pn +1 // Page 124.png
at least retrieve some hope of the accession of
his little son. The Allies in due course occupied
Paris. Napoleon, deserted even by his wife,
reached the little Isle of Elba, and Louis XVIII.—brother
of that tragic Louis who was executed
twenty-one years previously—ascended for a
brief time the throne of France.
.sp 2
.ce
BATTLE HONOURS OF THE (QUEEN’S OWN) CAMERON HIGHLANDERS
Egmont-op-Zee, Corunna, Busaco, Fuentes de Oñoro,
Salamanca, Pyrenees, Nivelle, Nive, Toulouse, Peninsula,
Waterloo, Alma, Sevastopol, Lucknow; Egypt, 1882;
Tel-el-Kebir; Nile, 1884-1885; Atbara, Khartoum; South
Africa, 1900-1902.
Raised in 1793. From 1873 to 1881 the 79th (Queen’s
Own Cameron Highlanders) Regiment.
The 2nd Battalion raised in 1897.
.pn +1 // Page 125.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap12 title='12. The Gordons at Quatre Bras (June 16, 1815)'
CHAPTER XII | THE GORDONS AT QUATRE BRAS | (June 16, 1815)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
There was a sound of revelry by night,
And Belgium’s capital had gather’d then
Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men;
A thousand hearts beat happily: and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look’d love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage-bell;
But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!
Byron.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
Towards the end of 1814 there was an interesting
assemblage of emperors, kings, generals, and
representatives of the people at Vienna to settle
once and for all the future peace of Europe.
There was not a great deal of sympathy between
the Allies, and now that Napoleon had shot his
bolt, and was apparently for ever humiliated,
disputes soon took the place of friendly overtures,
while the Congress promised to disagree as
ardently as any other peaceful gathering before
or since. Napoleon, fretting at Elba, learnt
how matters stood, and decided with his amazing
promptitude that the day had dawned that might
carry with it his re-accession to power.
.pn +1 // Page 126.png
In France Louis XVIII. was little better than
a shadow upon a throne. The reaction that had
set in against Napoleon at the time of his abdication
had been altogether submerged by the impatience
with which the French people regarded
the deliberations of the Allies. The pride of
France was touched, and the pride of France has
ever soared very high. Like many another exile
Napoleon by his absence attained a greater hold
upon the imagination of his countrymen than he
had ever possessed before. Those old soldiers who
had been victorious under his standards were
never tired of foretelling the time when the
‘Little Corporal’ would again return and sweep
all the armies of the Allies before him like forest
leaves. We may be perfectly sure that Napoleon
was now, as always, in touch with the spirit of
France, and that when he struck it was with
everything as much in his favour as could be.
On a dark March evening, when the British
war-ships were riding at anchor, and no whisper
of danger reached the watching sailors, he left
Elba and set foot upon the shores of France.
The news of his arrival sped like wildfire through
every village of the south, and was flung from
lip to lip until it reached Paris itself. The mere
presence of Napoleon, without arms, without
money, without anything to win back an Empire,
sent Louis XVIII. scurrying into exile!
It was a triumph indeed. But Napoleon was
not foolish enough to ignore the apprehensions
of the French people; whatever feelings were
hidden within his own heart he stifled them for
.pn +1 // Page 127.png
the moment under a pretence of peace. It was
England who refused to discuss the situation on
any terms. Napoleon was declared an outlaw
and the enemy of Europe. As our countrymen
pledged themselves a hundred years later to
crush and overthrow Prussianism, so they pledged
themselves then to fight until the danger was
averted. The arrival of Napoleon had been so
swift that it was quite impossible to assemble the
Allies. The Austrian and Russian forces had to
travel great distances, and only the Prussian
army on the Rhine under Blücher, the English
in Belgium under Wellington, with some Hanoverians,
Belgians, and Dutch, were ready to withstand
the swift onrush of the French.
With his unerring judgment Napoleon grasped
the situation. He realised, like those German
hosts in the summer of 1914, that he must win, if
win at all, by forced marches and forced battles.
His army was a small one, but was largely composed
of veteran troops. It was perfectly within
reason to achieve the separation of the forces
of Wellington and Blücher, and defeat them in
turn. The enthusiasm with which Napoleon
was greeted by the French soldiers is one of the
most remarkable episodes in history. To them he
was the son of New France, the invincible ‘Little
Corporal.’ When he left Paris to join the army
he uttered these memorable words: “I go,” he
said, “to measure myself with Wellington,” and
when he arrived at the Imperial Headquarters
he sent this message to his troops:
“Soldiers! We have forced marches to make,
.pn +1 // Page 128.png
battles to fight, troubles to encounter; but, with
firmness victory will be ours. Rejoice, the
honour and the happiness of the country will
be recovered! To every Frenchman who has
a heart, the moment has now arrived to conquer
or die!”
Napoleon aimed at the occupation of Brussels,
then in the hands of the British, and there is no
doubt that his intention was to surprise Wellington’s
army by the rapidity of his advance. There
is also little question that if he had succeeded in
taking Brussels, a great part of Belgium would
have risen in his favour. An examination of the
map will show how many roads there are converging
upon Brussels from the French frontier,
and it was unknown to Wellington upon which
Napoleon might march. Accordingly the English
Commander-in-Chief distributed his forces so
that he could concentrate upon any single point.
.sp 2
It would be foolish to praise one Highland
regiment above another, for prowess is largely a
matter of opportunity. In the action at Quatre
Bras both the Gordons and the Black Watch
were beyond praise, while at Waterloo the former
took romance as it were by the stirrup iron, and
added a new glamour to the old tale of Scotland’s
glory.
At ten o’clock on that eventful night, when
the dance in Brussels was at its height, Colonel
John Cameron, commanding officer of the Gordons,
left the ballroom and went to his quarters.
Early on June 16, amidst torrents of rain, the
.pn +1 // Page 129.png
92nd marched out of the city for the impending conflict.
The bagpipes screamed through the streets,
bringing many a face to the windows to watch
how the Gordons went to face Ney at Quatre
Bras. They took up position near a farmhouse,
where soon after their arrival the Duke of
Wellington himself rode up to Colonel Cameron,
and congratulated him upon the appearance of
his men, checking for a while their impatience.
.pm verse-start
At Quatre Bras when the fight was high,
Stout Cameron stood with wakeful eye,
Eager to leap, as a mettlesome hound,
Into the fray with a plunge and a bound.
But Wellington, lord of the cool command,
Held the reins with a steady hand,
Saying, “Cameron, wait, you’ll soon have enough—
Give the Frenchmen a taste of your stuff,
When the Cameron men are wanted.”
.pm verse-end
In front of the farmhouse there was a ditch,
and this the Gordons were ordered to defend,
together with the outhouses and other buildings.
They had hardly got into position before the
attack commenced, and the Highlanders found
themselves confronted by the forces of Marshal
Ney. Their ranks were raked for a considerable
time by the French artillery. This was only
supplementary to a desperate charge by the
French cavalry, at that time unrivalled in Europe.
The chasseurs managed to work their way behind
the Gordons, and Wellington was compelled to
leap a fence to avoid capture. But the Frenchmen
never broke out again. The 92nd accounted
for them.
Meanwhile the 42nd—which with three other
.pn +1 // Page 130.png
regiments formed Pack’s brigade—were brought
up after a very long march and flung into the
heat of the fighting, changing commanders no less
than four times. Confused, separated, seeing their
officers fall on all sides, they endured sufficient
hammering to break the confidence of many a
disciplined regiment; but the ranks of the Black
Watch had never been broken, and they remained
perfectly staunch until, in its turn, the French
cavalry was shattered upon their bayonets.
Anton, who served in the Black Watch,
relates how they marched out of the ancient gate
of Brussels and entered the forest of Soignes.
Shortly afterwards the frightened peasantry ran
chattering past them, saying that the enemy
were advancing. Then General Pack came
galloping up, and reproved the Colonel for not
having the bayonets fixed. A few minutes later
the Belgian skirmishers came dashing helter-skelter
through the open ranks of the 42nd, and
next instant the Highlanders were confronted
with their pursuers.
At the sight of the grim faces of the Black
Watch the French fell back for the time being,
while the Highlanders advanced, at which Marshal
Ney ordered a regiment of Lancers to break upon
their flank. They came with such rapidity
that they almost took the Highlanders off their
guard. “We instantly formed ‘rally-square,’”
says Anton. “Every man’s piece was loaded,
and our enemies approached at full charge, the
feet of their horses seemed to tear up the ground.
Our skirmishers having been impressed with the
.pn +1 // Page 131.png
same opinion that these were Brunswick cavalry,
fell beneath their lances, and few escaped death
or wounds. Our brave Colonel fell at this time
pierced through the chin until the point of the
lance reached the brain. Captain Menzies fell
covered with wounds, and a momentary conflict
took place over him. He was a powerful man,
and, hand to hand, more than a match for six
ordinary men.... Of all descriptions of cavalry,
certainly the Lancers seem the most formidable
to infantry, as the lance can be projected with
considerable precision and with deadly effect
without bringing the horse to the point of the
bayonet, and it was only by rapid and well-directed
fire of musketry that these formidable
assailants were repulsed.”
The Gordons having repulsed the cavalry at
the point of the bayonet, awaited the advance
of the veteran French infantry.
Their vigil was soon rewarded. The Duke of
Wellington, perceiving that some French had
gained a footing in the farmhouse which was
of such strategic importance, shouted to their
commander, “Now, Cameron, is the time; take
care of the road.” Major-General Baines riding
up shouted, “Ninety-second, follow me!” The
order to charge was given, and the 92nd, leaping
from the ditch, rushed forward impetuously
upon the enemy, hurling them back at the point
of the bayonet. The victory was won, but at
great cost to the Gordons, for Colonel Cameron
was shot by a bullet fired from one of the upper
windows of the farmhouse, and was soon beyond
.pn +1 // Page 132.png
human aid. He was conveyed to the village of
Waterloo before he died, with the words: “I die
happy, and I trust my dear country will remember
that I have served her faithfully.” It is worth
while recalling once again that powerful verse
written by Sir Walter Scott:
.pm verse-start
Through shell and shot he leads no more,
Low laid ‘mid friends’ and foemen’s gore;
But ‘long his native lake’s wild shore
And Sunart rough and high Ardgour
And Morven long shall tell,
And proud Ben Nevis hear with awe
How upon bloody Quatre Bras
Brave Cameron heard the wild hurrah
Of conquest, as he fell!
.pm verse-end
The losses suffered by the Highland regiments
had been very heavy, but they had won deathless
prestige. Out of all the forces engaged Wellington
selected four regiments for special mention.
The Black Watch, the Gordons, and the Camerons
were of that proud body. During this time the
French and the Prussians had been engaged at the
battle of Ligny, and although Blücher had superior
forces to Napoleon he had lost the day, though had
not actually suffered a defeat. After the action the
Prussians retreated towards Maestricht in order
to maintain their communications with Wellington’s
army. Unfortunately for the British, the
despatch-rider who was sent to inform Wellington
that the Prussian army was in retreat did not
reach him, and it was not until the 17th, at
Quatre Bras, that the British General heard the
result of the battle of Ligny. This news—that
Napoleon had defeated Blücher—was something
.pn +1 // Page 135.png
of a shock to Wellington, who had hoped, with
Prussian support, to make a definite attack upon
the French.
.if h
.il fn=i_112.jpg id=quatre w=60% alt='Battle scene'
.ca The Gordons At Quatre Bras
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: THE GORDONS AT QUATRE BRAS]
.if-
After the indecisive action at Quatre Bras,
Wellington decided to march his army towards
Brussels, and attempt to restore communication
with Blücher. He despatched word to him that
he intended to halt at Mont St. Jean, but only on
condition that Blücher would pledge himself to
the extent of 25,000 men. The Duke of Uxbridge
covered the retreat of the British forces—for there
is no denying that it was in the nature of a retreat—and
the army halted for the night close to a
little village that has gone down to history under
the name of Waterloo.
.sp 2
.ce
BATTLE HONOURS OF THE GORDON HIGHLANDERS
Mysore, Seringapatam, Egmont-op-Zee, Mandora,
Corunna, Fuentes de Oñoro, Almaraz, Vittoria, Pyrenees,
Nive, Orthez, Peninsula, Waterloo; South Africa, 1835;
Delhi, Lucknow, Charasiah; Kabul, 1879; Kandahar, 1880;
Afghanistan, 1878-1880; Egypt, 1882, 1884; Tel-el-Kebir;
Nile, 1884-1885; Chitral, Tirah; South Africa, 1899-1902;
Ladysmith, Paardeberg.
.sp 2
1st Battalion, raised 1758, was disbanded. Re-formed
1787 as the 75th (Highland) Regiment of Foot. From 1862
to 1881 the 75th (Stirlingshire) Regiment.
2nd Battalion, raised 1794, as the 100th (Gordon Highlanders)
Regiment of Foot. From 1861 to 1881 the 92nd
(Gordon Highlanders) Regiment of Foot.
.pn +1 // Page 136.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap13 title='13. With Wellington At Waterloo (June 18, 1815)'
CHAPTER XIII | WITH WELLINGTON AT WATERLOO | (June 18, 1815)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
In vain did cuirassiers in clouds surround them,
When, cannon thundering as the ocean raves,
They left our squares unmoved as they had found them,
Firm as a rock amidst the ocean’s waves.
Norman Macleod.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
Many have been the explanations of Napoleon’s
failure at Waterloo. It has been said that his
star was on the wane and his health undermined,
that he entrusted his fortunes to incompetent
generals such as Ney and Grouchy, that his
troops were not the soldiers of the early campaigns.
But the truth of the matter is that
Napoleon was beaten here as his troops had been
beaten in the Peninsular simply by the dogged
front of the British infantry. We have seen how
the Highlanders withstood the cavalry at Quatre
Bras, how they stormed the French position at
Toulouse, how they were the better men at
Fuentes de Oñoro. They were not alone in that
quality of endurance and nerve. Throughout
the whole British Army there was a confidence
in itself that has remained till this day, and
which is possessed by no other soldiers in the
.pn +1 // Page 137.png
world. A remarkable testimony to this was made
by General von Müffling, a Prussian officer, who
in the curious changes of time was attached to
Wellington’s staff. “For a battle,” he says,
“there is not perhaps in Europe an army equal
to the British; that is to say, none whose discipline
and whole military tendency is so purely
and exclusively calculated for giving battle.
The British soldier is vigorous, well-fed, by nature
both brave and intrepid, trained to the most
rigorous discipline and admirably armed. The
infantry resist the attacks of cavalry with great
confidence, and when taken in flank or rear,
British troops are less disconcerted than any
European army.”
“Marshal Bugeaud,” says Captain Becke in
his Napoleon and Waterloo, “has left it on record
that ‘the British infantry are the best in the
world,’—however, he was careful to add this
significant statement—‘But fortunately there
are not many of them.’”
.sp 2
It is probable that Napoleon was misinformed
regarding the strength of Blücher’s forces, or
else he underrated the efficiency of the Prussian
army. At any rate he was satisfied with instructing
Marshal Grouchy to occupy himself
in the pursuit of Blücher while he dealt with
Wellington. It has been stated that Grouchy
failed in his duty, and that had he carried out
the Emperor’s instructions Wellington might
have been unable to withstand the furious
assault of Napoleon’s veterans. But the French
.pn +1 // Page 138.png
offensive was fairly checked before ever Blücher
arrived.
In the meantime Wellington prepared for
battle, having as implicit a trust in Blücher as
had long ago existed between Marlborough and
Eugene. Throughout the long day at Waterloo
he maintained his ground in perfect composure
and confidence, knowing that the Prussians were
nearing him at every hour.
The strength of the army under Wellington
was 50,000 infantry, 12,000 cavalry, 5000 odd
artillery, with 156 guns. But of this number
only 24,000 were British, and to quote from
Napier: “A French soldier would not be equal
to more than one English soldier, but he would
not be afraid to meet two Dutch, Prussians, or
soldiers of the Confederation.”
In the Military and Naval Museum in Whitehall
there is a most admirable plan of the field
of Waterloo of considerable size and drawn to
scale, and more instructive than pages of explanatory
notes. But to put the matter quite
simply, there was a valley some three miles long,
varying in breadth here and there, while in close
proximity to this valley ran a chain of hills in
parallel direction on each side. The British
forces were ranged on the north with the French
army on the southern range, where their artillery
confronted each other, while the advances of horse
and foot were made over the valley underneath.
The village of Mont St. Jean was behind the centre
of the northern hills, and the other village, La
Belle Alliance, behind the southern range. Then
.pn +1 // Page 139.png
there was a broad highway—a very important
feature of the battle—leading from Charleroi to
Brussels, and passing through both these villages,
thus bisecting the English and the French lines.
This road was the proposed route by which
Napoleon hoped to reach Brussels, but was in
reality to be the line of his retreat.
There were also some other important hamlets
which were taken and retaken in the course of
the day, on the right wing the Flemish farmhouse
of Hougoumont, with its outbuildings, affording
cover to whichever force was in possession. In
the centre lay La Haye Sainte.
Napoleon has criticised Wellington for occupying
the position he did. Strategically he believed
that it was a treacherous one, as it could
not afford him any retreat. On the other hand,
it was a protection for Brussels, and in after
years Wellington himself remarked: “They never
could have beaten us so that we could not have
held the wood against them.” He referred to
the forest of Soignes, which certainly would have
afforded cover for artillery against overwhelming
forces.
.sp 2
On the morning of the 17th the 42nd marched
from Quatre Bras to the undulating height of
Mont St. Jean. On arriving there Wellington said,
“We shall retire no farther.” This was the first
occasion on which the English Commander had
come into personal contact with Napoleon. Not
since Scipio and Hannibal at Zama had two such
military giants met face to face—Napoleon, who
.pn +1 // Page 140.png
had swept victorious over Europe; Wellington,
who, on a lesser scale, had, upon the fields of
Spain, driven the greatest French marshals before
him. And now, upon the eve of this great battle,
Wellington stood upon high ground perfectly
imperturbable, while not so far away Napoleon
passed along his line, receiving tumultuous cheers,
inspiriting his soldiers to carry the English
position by assault, firm in the belief that if his
veteran troops by their very prestige could fling
back the English lines, the victory was as good
as won. Certainly it was a manœuvre that had
always, or nearly always proved successful against
the armies of other nations, but had always
failed in the Peninsular against the British soldier.
The French formation on this occasion can best
be compared to and was inspired by the same
motive as the Prussian formation a hundred years
later—it relied upon the discipline of men advancing
in mass to carry a position at the point of the
bayonet. The British army was in line.
Much has been made in recent years of the
part that the Belgians played at Quatre Bras
and Waterloo, and it is only fair to a nation so
closely associated with us to-day to point out
that had not the Dutch-Belgian forces withstood
Ney’s first furious attack at Quatre Bras, British
aid might have come too late to stem a disaster.
Upon the field of Waterloo the Dutch-Belgian
brigade went into the action 18,000 strong, and
lost 90 officers and 2000 odd men. The Dutch-Belgian
troops were placed in front of Picton’s
division, a hopeless position to withstand the
.pn +1 // Page 141.png
full weight of the French bombardment and
d’Erlon’s attack. That they failed is no reflection
upon their gallantry. After their retirement
past Picton’s division they returned to take an
important share in the action.
The battle commenced at noon on June 18,
1815, after a night of terrible rain, and Napoleon
opened the engagement by despatching his
brother Jerome to attack the farmhouse of
Hougoumont. The French poured down the
southern heights, moving forward in unbroken
regularity, only to find—as the Prussian Guard
were to find long after at Ypres—that the British
Guards were invincible. Meanwhile, under Sir
Denis Pack were the Black Watch and the
Gordons, holding the line to the left of the road
to Brussels. Following the attack launched on
Hougoumont came the second attack, which
was directed against Picton’s division. The
story of how the comparatively small force
under his command managed to withstand this
attack, and how the Scots Greys poured like
a river upon the confused French soldiery is
an immortal incident in the history of the
British Army. After beating back the enemy,
the command was given to the Highlanders to
open ranks, and a few minutes later the Greys
passed through, leaped the hedges, and prepared
to charge the enemy. Presently a galloper rode
up with the command, “92nd, you must charge,
for all the troops on your right and left have
given way.”
The Gordons, though exhausted with hard
.pn +1 // Page 142.png
fighting, prepared to advance, and the Scots
Greys assembled with them. The bagpipes struck
up as the Greys passed into the ranks of the 92nd,
and with one accord, and shouting “Scotland
for ever!” the Gordons gripped the stirrups of
their comrades and swept into the mad charge.
Horse and man together, nothing could withstand
that—for the glory of Scotland they were
ready to win through or die in the thick of the
fight.
The French column was struck to the ground.
Two French eagles and 2000 prisoners were
within a few minutes in the hands of the
British. Sir Denis Pack rode up with the memorable
words, “Highlanders, you have saved the
day!”
But the Highlanders had not matters all
their own way. For hours they stood under a
harassing fire, and to quote General Foy: “We
saw those sons of Albion formed up on the plain
between the woods of Hougoumont and the village
of Mont St. Jean. Death was before them and
in their ranks, disgrace in their rear. In this
terrible situation neither the cannon-balls of
the Imperial Guard, discharged almost at point-blank,
nor the victorious cavalry of France, could
make the least impression on the immovable
British infantry.”
At last, upon the far horizon to his right, were
seen the dim moving columns of the Prussians
coming to the aid of Wellington. Grouchy did
not appear, and Napoleon, knowing that he must
achieve success now or never, opened a furious
.pn +1 // Page 143.png
artillery fire upon the opposing lines. It was now
3.30 in the afternoon, and no part of the British
position had been lost. The French Cuirassiers
were advanced against the English guns, and
were decimated in their fruitless attacks on the
right. Meanwhile the Prussians had attempted
to carry by assault the village of Planchenoit,
an important strategical position in the line of
Napoleon’s retreat towards the frontier. A terrific
conflict was waged here, for which Napoleon was
compelled to devote some of his finest troops.
It became all along the line a question of who
could stand the hardest pounding. At last
Napoleon, mounting his white horse, Marengo,
started out from the farmhouse, in which he had
remained studying his maps, and rode to the spot
where his veteran Guard were to march past
on their way into action. It was one of the most,
if not the most dramatic moment in military
history. Standing upon a hillock, a figure
beloved by all the war-worn troops of France,
he merely pointed his arm towards the distant
lines of the enemy, as though he would point to
them the place of honour. It was enough.
They passed him with thunderous tread and
loud shouts of “Vive l’Empereur!” and so
marching down the slope, formed up for their
famous assault. Just as the Coldstreams received
in silence and flung back again the furious
onslaught of the Prussian Guard at Ypres, so
Maitland’s Brigade and the British Guards
awaited the attack. The Frenchmen passed
perfectly steadily across the open, shelled
.pn +1 // Page 144.png
unceasingly by the British guns, and fired upon by
the British infantry. They were quite unshaken.
When Ney’s horse crashed to the earth beneath
him he pointed the way on foot. It was like the
tramp of a deathless army.
The British Guards were lying down to avoid
the fire of the French artillery, but when the
French came within some fifty yards one of
the British officers cried, “Up, Guards, and at
them!” at which historic words the British
leapt to their feet and poured a round upon
the French column. The Old Guard, unbroken,
undismayed, advanced at a charge, but Maitland’s
men never ceased pouring volley after
volley into their crowded ranks. In an attempt
to form into open column, the enemy became
disorganised. The opportunity was not missed
by their opponents. With a loud cheer the
British charged, driving the exhausted Frenchmen
back. Their position was tragic. All this
time their left flank was receiving an unremitting
fire from the English infantry. It was impossible
under such circumstances for even veteran troops,
such as Napoleon’s Guard, to remain in action,
and the sight of the broken ranks of the flower
of the French Army created more panic amongst
the other troops than almost any feature of the
battle. They were beaten but not dishonoured.
How great then must their reverse have been!
Napoleon hastily advanced his remaining
battalions, and shortly after Wellington knew
the moment had dawned for the advance. The
whole British line moved forward, having endured
.pn +1 // Page 145.png
a ceaseless artillery fire for nine long
hours, having repelled the impact of cavalry, and
repulsed the French Guard. Wellington himself
headed the advancing troops, and when warned
of the danger replied, “Never mind, let them
fire away; the battle’s won, and my life is of no
consequence to me now.”
The pipes struck up, the bugles sounded, the
drums rolled above the noise of feet. Away
went the English Guards, the Black Watch, the
Camerons, the Gordons, the Rifles—the triumphant
British Army. The whole French line was
swept back in confusion. The Old Guard still
rallied, protecting Napoleon himself in one of its
squares. But the day was lost, and soon the
Emperor joined the rabble of fugitives and set
his face towards Paris. The hour of his destiny
had struck.
It was near La Belle Alliance that Wellington
met Blücher. It was decided that, as the
Prussians were not so exhausted as the British,
they should follow up the flying French. Anton
has given a little picture of the end of the
day. “Night passes over the groaning field
of Waterloo, and morning gives its early light
to the survivors of the battle to return to the
heights of St. Jean, on purpose to succour
the wounded, or bury the dead. Here may be
seen the dismounted gun, the wheels of the
carriage half sunk in the mire; the hand of the
gunner rests on the nave, his body half buried
in a pool of blood, and his eyes open to heaven
whither his spirit has already fled. Here are
.pn +1 // Page 146.png
spread promiscuously, heaps of mangled bodies—some
without head, or arms, or legs: others lie
stretched naked, their features betraying no mark
of violent suffering. The population of Brussels,
prompted by a justifiable curiosity, approach the
field to see the remains of the strangers who fell
to save their spoil-devoted city, and to pick up
some fragment as a memorial of the battle, or
as a relic for other days.”
Well might little Peterkin ask then as now,
“But what good came of it at last?”
Another passage I cannot resist quoting. It
is from the narrative of a soldier in Dr. Fitchett’s
Wellington’s Men, and relates to the march on
Paris following Waterloo. “At noon arrived in
the neighbourhood of Mons, where we overtook
the Greys, Inniskillings, Ross’s troop of horse
artillery, and several other corps, both of cavalry
and infantry.... The Greys and the Inniskillings
were mere wrecks—the former, I think, did
not muster 200 men.... We crossed after the
Greys, and came with them on the main road to
Maubeuge at the moment a Highland regiment,
which had come through Mons, was passing.
The moment the Highlanders saw the Greys an
electrifying cheer burst spontaneously from the
column, which was answered as heartily; and
on reaching the road the two columns became
blended for a few minutes—the Highlanders
running to shake hands with their brave associates
in the late battle....”
.sp 2
The battle of Waterloo was the culmination
.pn +1 // Page 147.png
of many years’ conflict between the English
and the French, and the final struggle between
Napoleon and Wellington. We have seen how
the rivalry with France was fought to a finish
in Canada and the West Indies, in India, in
the Peninsular, and on the Continent. After
Waterloo there was peace for many years.
Napoleon, banished to St. Helena, was soon to
die, and remain as a deathless memory amongst
the old veterans of the armies he had led to
victory. Wellington was to win new triumphs,
though infinitely less enduring, in political life,
and to lose the fickle popularity of an English
mob, dying long after in 1852. The Highlanders,
who had fought almost unceasingly for many
years and in many parts of the world, and whose
gallantry at Waterloo brought them new laurels,
were mainly engaged upon home service until
a new generation heard in the far Crimea the
melancholy beating of the drums of war.
.pn +1 // Page 148.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap14 title='14. The Highland Brigade at the Battle of Alma (September 20, 1854)'
CHAPTER XIV | THE HIGHLAND BRIGADE AT THE BATTLE OF ALMA | (September 20, 1854)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
“Leave me, comrades—here I drop;
No, Sir, take them on;
All are wanted—none shall stop;
Duty must be done:
Those whose guard you take will find me,
As they pass below.”
So the soldier spake, and staggering
Fell amid the snow,
And ever, on the dreary heights,
Down came the snow.
Henry Lushington.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
The years following Waterloo were free from war,
but full of domestic unrest. The National Debt
had risen from under 240 millions to over
860 millions, while the end of hostilities brought
with it a fall in corn, a renewal of foreign competition
in trade, and a tremendous increase in
unemployment. Riots and plots abounded;
the introduction and development of machinery
was blamed for throwing people out of work.
There was even, in the Cato Street Conspiracy in
1820, a futile idea of murdering the Cabinet.
In 1832 the famous Reform Bill was passed,
resisted to the last by Wellington and the Tories,
.pn +1 // Page 149.png
while the Abolition of Slavery followed soon
after. In 1837 Queen Victoria came to the
throne.
In 1854 the Crimean War broke out, after a
peace in Europe lasting practically forty years.
The trouble in the Crimea was entirely political.
England feared that Russia would crush Turkey
and plant herself upon the shores of the Eastern
Mediterranean. France was also alarmed and,
to prevent the Czar overwhelming the Sultan,
united her forces with the British. For two
years they fought together as allies. In former
chapters we have followed in the footsteps
of Wolfe, of Moore, of Abercromby, and of
Wellington, and now we meet, though not for
the first time, a great Scots soldier in Sir Colin
Campbell. He linked the Peninsular Campaign
of 1809 with the Indian Mutiny of 1857, handing
on the sword to Roberts, who in his turn was to
be succeeded by Sir John French. Of Roberts
and Wolseley and Lord Kitchener we will hear a
great deal soon enough. It is of Colin Campbell,
of Balaclava and Lucknow, that the next few
years are full.
Colin Campbell was born in Glasgow on the
20th of October 1792. He was not sixteen when
he joined the army as an ensign, and sailed at
once for Portugal, receiving his baptism of fire
at Vimiera. He served under Sir John Moore,
taking part in the historic retreat to Corunna.
Later on he was in the miserable Walcheren
Expedition, and contracted a fever which visited
him every season for thirty years afterwards.
.pn +1 // Page 150.png
He was at the battles of Barossa and Vittoria,
and in July 1813 served at the siege of San
Sebastian. There he was severely wounded and
was compelled to return to England, but on his
recovery he sailed for Nova Scotia to join his
regiment. He won experience in America,
Gibraltar, and the West Indies; took part in
the battles of Brandenburg and New Orleans,
and fought in the Chinese War. Just as Lord
Roberts was enjoying well-earned repose in 1899,
Campbell contemplated retirement when his most
important and historic work lay ahead. “I am
growing old and only fit for retirement,” he wrote
when the Crimean War and the Indian Mutiny
still lay buried in the future. He was sixty-two
years of age when, in 1854, he was appointed
Commander-in-Chief of the Highland Brigade,
and found himself in the proud position of leading
the Black Watch, the Camerons, and the
Sutherland Highlanders.
After a trying voyage, in which the troops
suffered severely from sickness, the Black Sea was
reached on the 19th of September 1854. The
landing was accomplished in safety, and it was
learned that the Russians were holding a very
strong position on the left bank of the Alma,
a shallow river confronting them a few miles
distant. The Russian forces were well posted,
strong in artillery, and numbering some 40,000
men and 106 guns. The attack was launched
without delay. The French advanced on the
right, and the British on the left. In this
manner the West drew near to the East,
.pn +1 // Page 151.png
and everything hung upon the success of the
assault. Had the attacking columns suffered a
reverse it would have been exceedingly difficult
to save a retreat from degenerating into a rout.
The Russians fully expected to drive their enemies
into the sea.
Before the action Sir Colin Campbell rode up
and joined the ranks of his Brigade, giving his
men some words of advice before the advance
commenced, begging them to keep their heads,
and remember the land of their forebears.
Facing the British troops was a high entrenched
slope upon which the Russians awaited
their attack. “Now, men,” said Sir Colin, “the
army will watch us; make me proud of the
Highland Brigade.”
The soldiers were confident of success. “When,”
records Kinglake, “the command travelled on
along the ranks of the Highlanders it lit up the
faces of the men one after another, assuring them
that now at length, and after long expectance,
they would indeed go into action. They began
obeying the order, and with beaming joy, for
they came of a warlike race; yet not without
emotions of a graver kind; they were young
soldiers, new to battle.”
Upon the right of the Highland Brigade
were the Guards, while between the Coldstreams
and the Black Watch rode Sir Colin Campbell.
While they stood there the muffled thunder of
guns on their right told every man that the
engagement had already started, and that far
away their French allies were already in action
.pn +1 // Page 152.png
upon the Russian front. To the left of Sir Colin
Campbell was a gorge where the enemy had constructed
a large redoubt, flanked on each side by
artillery upon the heights, while in support of
the artillery were large numbers of troops. This
redoubt was defended by fourteen heavy guns.
The advance began under a merciless fire, but so
fierce was the attack that the enemy were compelled
to retreat until their reserves were called
up, when they outnumbered the British by twenty
to one. It was at this critical moment, when a
reverse seemed inevitable, and the light troops
engaged were recoiling, that Sir Colin Campbell
shouted, “Forward, the 42nd!”—the bagpipes
struck up, and the advance of the Highland
Brigade commenced. Against his three battalions
in echelon were twelve regiments of Russians in
mass. But without a halt, without a pause,
the 42nd forded the River Alma and faced the
heights, advancing steadily and without faltering,
the Sutherlands in the centre and the Camerons
upon the left flank. For a few moments Sir
Colin Campbell halted the Brigade to let them
recover their breath, and then giving the order,
“Advance firing”—a manœuvre in which the
Black Watch were greatly expert—they drew
nearer to the closely packed forces of the
enemy. It was inevitable that they should
lose very heavily, and that the fire that was
opened upon them should be exceedingly hot,
but always into the dense clouds of smoke that
floated between the intervening distance the 42nd
advanced. The time was nearly ripe.
.pn +1 // Page 153.png
“Charge!” cried Sir Colin, and down went the
steel line of bayonets. But instead of a clear front
a new situation arose which called upon all the
strategic skill of the Scottish leader to avert
disaster. The solitary regiment of the 42nd
was not only faced by the hosts of Russians on
their front; other battalions of the enemy were
on the move preparing to attack upon the flank.
Instantly he turned to the Sutherlands, ordering
them to protect the flank of the Black Watch.
In perfect order, amid the thunder of the conflict,
the two Highland regiments charged straight
at the enemy. It is difficult to believe that the
Russians should have retired before two battalions
with only one other in support, but they did.
Whether it was the appearance of the Highlanders,
or the invincible character of their advance, one
cannot say, but after a momentary wavering
the enemy gave way to panic. And then upon
the other flank of the Brigade the Russians
threatened a similar movement.
Again Campbell saved the situation and this
time by calling up the Camerons. Kinglake has
given a vivid impression of the effect of this new
force of kilted troops appearing out of the smoke.
“Some witchcraft,” he says, “the doomed men
might fancy, was causing the earth to bear
giants. Above the crest or swell of the ground
on the left rear of the 93rd yet another array of
the tall bending plumes began to rise in a long
ceaseless line, stretching far into the east; and
presently, in all the grace and beauty that marks
a Highland regiment when it springs up the side
.pn +1 // Page 154.png
of a hill, the 79th came bounding forward without
a halt, or with only the halt that was needed for
dressing the ranks, it advanced upon the flank
of the right Sousdal column and caught the mass
in its sin—caught it daring to march across the
face of a Highland battalion—a battalion already
near and swiftly advancing in line. Wrapped
in the fire thus poured upon its flank the
hapless column could not march—could not
live.”
The Russian force was indeed in a position
that was not tolerable, and its rout was complete
and immediate. And now the three Highland
regiments, with Sir Colin in the centre, extending
in open order for nearly a mile, swept forward in
perfect formation against the confused masses of
the Russian army, to whom they presented a
never-ceasing wave of soldiers, with (to their
imagination) unending supports that would spring
up just as readily as on the two occasions that they
had attempted an outflanking movement. To the
horror of their troops in reserve, who could well
see how great was the difference numerically
between their comrades and the British, the
Russians took to their heels, overwhelming their
own supports and carrying everything before
them in their blind panic. The Highland Brigade
had turned the scales, and the time was ripe to
convert defeat into disaster. The cavalry were
advanced to harass the broken Russian columns;
the artillery commenced to shell their shattered
ranks.
But, as Sir Colin wrote to a friend, “it was a
.pn +1 // Page 155.png
fight of the Highland Brigade. Lord Raglan
came up afterwards, and sent for me. When I
approached him I observed his eyes to fill and
his lips and countenance to quiver. He gave
me a cordial shake of the hand. The men cheered
very much. I told them I was going to ask the
Commander-in-Chief a great favour—that he
would permit me to have the honour of wearing
the Highland bonnet during the rest of the
campaign, which pleased them very much. My
men behaved nobly. I never saw troops march
to battle with greater sang-froid and order than
those three Highland regiments.”
Not long after, when Sir Colin Campbell was
returning, he addressed the regiments of the
Highland Brigade, never thinking how soon he
would be called upon to lead them again. “Our
native land,” he said, “will never forget the name
of the Highland Brigade, and in some future war
that nation will call for another one to equal this,
which it will never surpass.”
It was indeed a victory to be proud of. Three
regiments had put to rout no fewer than twelve
battalions, including the famous division of picked
Czar’s Infantry.
The Russians retreated before the Highland
advance across the Belbec River, falling back
towards Sevastopol, a strongly fortified place
upon the shore of the Black Sea. It is probable
that had the pursuit been carried out energetically,
as Lord Raglan advised, the Russians would
have been utterly dispersed, and the war concluded,
but the delay enabled them to enter
.pn +1 // Page 156.png
Sevastopol at their leisure, and in consequence
of this movement the Allies decided to march
across the Peninsula to Balaclava, and by forcing
the action from that point to invest the Russian
forces in Sevastopol by land and sea.
.pn +1 // Page 157.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap15 title="15. The ‘Thin Red Line’ At Balaclava (October 25, 1854)"
CHAPTER XV | THE ‘THIN RED LINE’ AT BALACLAVA | (October 25, 1854)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Gae bring my guid auld harp ance mair, gae bring it free and fast,
For I maun sing anither sang, ere a’ my glee be past.
And trow ye, as I sing, my lads, the burden o’t shall be,
Auld Scotland’s howes, and Scotland’s knowes, and Scotland’s hills for me;
I’ll drink a cup to Scotland yet, wi’ a’ the honours three.
Scotland Yet.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
In the Crimean campaign the regiments in the
Highland Brigade chiefly concerned were the
Black Watch, the Camerons, and the Sutherland
Highlanders. At the battle of the Alma we have
seen how the glory of the first advance rested
with the 42nd, and the brunt of the flanking
movements upon the Sutherlands and Camerons.
In the siege of Sevastopol the 42nd and 79th
were engaged in fatigue duty and in the trenches,
the 93rd lying before Balaclava with Sir Colin
Campbell. It was their good fortune to meet the
Russians once again in the open. It was an
amazing achievement that two ranks of Highlanders
could attack and defeat twelve battalions
of Russian infantry. An even greater achievement
was it when the 93rd resisted successfully
.pn +1 // Page 158.png
without supports the furious onslaught of the
Russian cavalry.
The battle of the Alma was thus the first and
last engagement in which the Highland Brigade
fought together during the Crimean War. For
two miserable winters they, with the other
regiments of the British and French forces, were
to endure privation and hardship such as had
probably never before been experienced in a
British campaign. The bitter cold, the lack of
food, the absence of all hospital arrangements
made the siege of Sevastopol one of the most
ghastly tragedies in English history. Cholera,
dysentery, with every other form of illness consequent
on exposure and lack of sanitation, proved
a more deadly antagonist than the Russian
guns. Whatever the sufferings our soldiers had
to endure in the trenches during the winter
campaign of 1914-15, they were provided with
good food, expert medical attendance, and, so
far as was possible, with the relief and exchange
of fatigue duty. In the Crimea no army was
ever in a worse plight for the merest necessaries
of life, and until Florence Nightingale was
inspired to leave England for the hospital field
there was very little hope of recovery from
sickness. But then as now the various British
regiments took their part in the trench work
without complaint and in good heart—and when
possible with the greatest distinction.
The 93rd Sutherland Highlanders were raised
in 1799, and sailed for the Cape of Good Hope
in 1806. After that they saw little active service
.pn +1 // Page 159.png
of any distinction until the Crimea, though their
sister regiment the Argyllshire Highlanders, raised
in 1794, took part in the Peninsular War, but not
in Waterloo. The two regiments became the 91st
and 93rd Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders in
1881.
The Sutherland Highlanders took up their
position before Balaclava with the knowledge
that it was of first-rate importance to the safety
of the whole army. The outer line of defences
was held by some 5000 Turks; between the outer
line and the inner line were 1500 cavalry, while
the 93rd lay in front of the village of Kadikoi.
The importance of Balaclava lay in its position.
Lying upon the sea coast, it was not merely
in communication with the outer world, but
the only channel by which the Allies could
receive their ammunition and stores. Were
the Russians to take possession of Balaclava
they would cut the British lines of communication
at one swoop. It was therefore practically
certain that sooner or later an attack would be
made, and on the night of the 24th Sir Colin
was informed by the Turks that the Russian
advance was imminent. It came with the breaking
of dawn, when the grey hordes of the enemy
were seen flocking like ghosts down the hill-side,
moving forward toward the Turkish redoubts.
Compared with the little force defending Balaclava,
the number of the enemy was infinitely superior,
comprising 25 battalions of infantry, 34 squadrons
of cavalry, and 78 guns. Presently their artillery
found the range of the troops in the first redoubt,
.pn +1 // Page 160.png
and in a very short time the Turks were in flight.
Once this line of fortifications was taken it was
hopeless to hold the corresponding flanks. The
whole first line was beaten within a few minutes.
The Sutherlands, drawn up under Sir Colin Campbell,
stood at attention watching the fleeing
columns of the Turks heading directly towards
them. Perceiving that the Highlanders were perfectly
at their ease, the Turks made a feeble rally
and formed on either flank. The Russian advance
was continued without halt, and their guns soon
opened on the 93rd. To prevent unnecessary
loss, Sir Colin drew back the regiment behind
the slope of the hill, and from there awaited
the next move. Presently the enemy’s cavalry,
leaving the main body, galloped straight for his
position. The moment of trial had come. Instantly
he drew up the Highlanders in a line only
two deep, shouting to them, “Now, men, remember
there is no retreat from here. You must
die where you stand!” at which there was a
low murmur, “Ay, ay, Sir Colin; an need be,
we’ll do that!” The whole line was advanced
to the top of the hill, a movement that so
excited the men that they nearly charged
the Russians. But that was not Sir Colin’s
intention, and halting them he calmly awaited
the onslaught of the Russian cavalry, merely
giving the order for the Sutherlands to stand in
line. The noise of the thundering hoofs grew
ever louder. It echoed in the ears of the Turks,
and as dense masses of horses bounded in all
their picturesque strength towards them, they
.pn +1 // Page 161.png
broke on the instant and ran in a frenzy of terror
to the rear, extending their hands to the vessels
riding at anchor, and shouting in their panic,
“Ship! ship!” To the Eastern mind it seemed
the merest folly to await such a crash of cavalry.
But not a man of the 93rd moved. Just as
the French Cuirassiers at Quatre Bras had come
flaunting their swords and breastplates in the
sunlight, so the Russian cavalry, on that winter’s
morn, came rushing in their hundreds upon the
‘thin red line.’ Lord Wolseley has written
that the pace of their advance must have been
three hundred and fifty yards a minute, while
behind them squadron upon squadron—like the
successive waves of a sea—raced their supports.
“In other parts of the field,” an eye-witness has
recorded, “with breathless suspense every one
waited the bursting of the wave upon the line of
Gaelic rock.” Suddenly, when it was feared the
Highlanders in their forlorn bravery were already
overwhelmed, the splutter of fire passed down
the line. It was done without flurry or haste,
but the effect was incalculable. The whole front
rank of the cavalry stumbled and recoiled;
horses and men fell, the second rank was baffled
and helpless, the speed was in an instant
checked, and the Sutherlands, calmly reloading,
discharged a second volley into the enemy.
But the Russians were not beaten so easily.
Breaking away, a detachment of cavalry cantered
off to attack the 93rd on the flank. Quite
calmly Sir Colin wheeled a company of his men
to face them. This was done without any confusion,
.pn +1 // Page 162.png
and another volley decided the action.
It was stated afterwards that although few of
the Russians were killed, nearly every man and
horse was wounded. It had been a desperate
moment, for, as Kinglake remarks, “the advance
of the Russian squadrons marked what might
well seem at the moment to be an ugly if not
desperate crisis in the defence of the English
seaport. Few or none at the time could have
had safe grounds for believing that, before the
arrival of succours, Liprandi (the Russian Commander)
would be at all once stayed in his career
of victory, and in the judgment of those, if any
there were, who suffered themselves to grow
thoughtful, the whole power of our people in the
plain and in the port of Balaclava must have
seemed to be in jeopardy; for not only had the
enemy overmastered the outer line of defence
and triumphantly broken in through it, but also,
having a weight of numbers, which for the moment
stood as that of an army to a regiment, he already
had made bold to be driving his cavalry at the
very heart of the English resources. If, in such
a condition of things, some few hundreds of
infantrymen stood shoulder to shoulder in line
confronting the victor upon open ground, and
maintaining from first to last their composure,
their cheerfulness, nay, even their soldierly mirth,
they proved themselves brave men by a test
that was other than that of sharp combat, but
hardly less trying.”
.sp 2
After Balaclava the Highland Brigade were
.pn +1 // Page 163.png
employed in besieging Sevastopol, and on September
8, 1855, a scheme was nearly carried
into effect that might have resulted in the fall
of the Russian position by assault. Sir Colin
Campbell drew out a plan in which the Black
Watch were to advance to the attack, while the
remainder of the division supported them. About
midnight on the 8th, therefore, when the fire of
the Russian troops had become almost silent,
a little party went forward to the Redan to
reconnoitre. To their astonishment there was
no one to be seen, save the wounded and the
dying. In the silence of the night the Russian
forces had evacuated, leaving Sevastopol to fall
into the hands of the Allies.
There is little more to tell of the part that
the Highland Brigade took in the Crimean
campaign. After the fall of Sevastopol the
Black Watch was stationed at Kamara until
peace was declared, and in due course arrived in
England, accompanied by the Camerons and the
Sutherlands. They little knew what trials lay
before them. Already in the far-distant land
of India the clouds were beginning to gather
upon the horizon. Already in many a silent
street the whisper was passing from lip to lip
that was destined, within a few short months, to
reverberate down the passages of Time.
.pn +1 // Page 164.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap16 title='16. With Havelock To Lucknow'
CHAPTER XVI | WITH HAVELOCK TO LUCKNOW
.sp 2
.pm letter-start
I have been forty years in the Service, I have been engaged
in actions seven-and-twenty times, but in the whole of my career
I have never seen any regiment behave so well as the 78th (Seaforth)
Highlanders. I am proud of you. I am not a Highlander,
but I wish I was one.
Havelock.
.pm letter-end
.sp 2
It was in the early months of 1857 that there
were the first ominous signs of unrest in India.
We have already seen how our power in India
was founded upon the position held by the traders
of the East India Company; we have also read
of Dupleix, the French Governor; of Robert
Clive, who held Arcot for fifty days against
thousands of the enemy; of the battle of Plassey,
and the ‘Black Hole’ at Calcutta; we have
dealt very briefly with the victories of Wellesley,
but between the early part of the nineteenth
century and 1857 there had been little actual
conflict, while the progress of the British Government
had been well sustained.
During these years the native army had
been very largely increased in numbers, while
the British forces had hardly altered. In Bengal
there were twenty Sepoys for every English
soldier, and naturally enough the Crimean War
.pn +1 // Page 165.png
had not been a favourable time to increase our
garrison. It is difficult to say whether the
Russian campaign had any political effect upon
the Indians, but it is probable that it gave an
impetus to the general unrest. Railways, telegraph
wires, with all the other new appliances
that were being first introduced at this time, were
regarded with the deepest hatred and suspicion.
Finally in the early part of 1857 it was rumoured
amongst the Sepoys that a plot had been laid by
the Government to crush their religious scruples
by stealth. Certain Indians hold the belief that
they lose their caste if the fat of a cow or a
pig passes their lips. It was necessary, so it was
stated, in using the new Government cartridge
to bite it with the teeth before ramming it home
down the barrel. The grease upon this cartridge
was discovered to contain forbidden ingredients.
But it must not be taken for granted that
these cartridges were the sole cause of the Indian
Mutiny. They were not a cause so much as a fuse
to set India ablaze. There was sufficient aggravation
to play upon the feelings of thousands of
fanatical people. “The real motive of mutiny,”
says G. O. Trevelyan, “was the ambition of the
soldiery. Spoilt, flattered, and idle, in the indolence
of its presumed strength, that pampered
army thought nothing too good for itself, and
nothing too formidable.”
In utter secrecy, an emblem of unity like a
kind of fiery cross passed from one Sepoy regiment
to another. Something was happening, and it
is foolish to believe that those in authority were
.pn +1 // Page 166.png
altogether in the dark. But the Crimean War was
raging, and it was hardly the time to act. Men
like Sidney Cotton, Edwardes, Chamberlain, and,
soaring above them all, John Nicholson, were
not the kind of men to be blind to the state of
affairs, or to be taken wholly by surprise. Nicholson,
by an investigation of the native letters
passing through the post-office, was well aware
of the magnitude of the conspiracy. Young
Frederick Roberts, who at this time was acting
Deputy-Assistant-Quartermaster-General, wrote:
“He impressed me more profoundly than any
man I had ever seen before, or have ever met
since. I have never seen any one like him; he
was the beau-ideal of a soldier and a gentleman.
Above all others, I had for him the greatest
admiration and the most profound respect.”
Nicholson had gone out to India as a boy of
sixteen. He was a man of very imposing presence,
very reserved, and inspiring amongst the
natives the greatest possible admiration and
hero-worship. He made few friends, faced conspiracy
and disturbances night and day; a man
whose self-reliance was only equalled by his
courage, and whose name has gone down in
India as a kind of super-man, removed above
the level of his contemporaries.
It was Meerut, well called ‘the cradle of the
Indian Mutiny,’ that set flame to the fire that
was to rage across India. The cavalry there
refused point-blank to use the cartridges, for
which insubordination the colonel placed several
under arrest. For a time everything seemed to
.pn +1 // Page 167.png
be quiet enough, and then on the next day
(a Sunday) the native regiments decided to
rise and put the English to the sword.
The bells were ringing for evening service
and the English officers and their wives were
making their way to church, when out of the
silent night there thundered the alarming rattle
of rifle shots and the doleful roll of drums.
Dense masses of smoke circled heavenwards
from the native quarters.
The Mutiny had taken birth.
Sepoys, turned suddenly into a maddened
crowd of fanatics, shot their rifles in all
directions. With that confidence in their men
which was such a pathetic feature of the
Mutiny, the English officers hurried towards their
regiments, and fell riddled with bullets. The
cry, ‘To Delhi! To Delhi!’ arose, and to
the ancient city of kings the rebels set out.
Delhi was the Mecca of revolt, from whence the
trouble was to spread like the wings of the
morning. It was already a rendezvous for the
rebels from all parts of the country.
Meerut was not only the cradle of the
Mutiny; it was also in a manner the death-warrant
of the deserted English people in Delhi.
There was a comparatively strong force of
British troops in Meerut, but for one reason or
another—principally, one gathers, because their
commanding officer was so very aged—they did
not attempt the succour of the English in Delhi.
Had they done so they would have taken the
Sepoys in their hour of mutiny and probably
.pn +1 // Page 168.png
scattered them. It would have been no formidable
task. All along the roads to Delhi were
streaming rebel cavalry and infantry, riding at
their ease, and the English troops could have had
everything their own way. As it was, they made
no move, and soon news came to Meerut of the
terrible massacre at Delhi. Every European—man,
woman, and child—on whom the rebels
could lay their hands had been murdered. Well
said was it, ‘The sorrow was in Delhi, the shame
in Meerut.’
When the outbreak of the rebellion and the
news of the Delhi massacre were reported to
General Anson, Commander-in-Chief in India,
he said that at any cost Delhi must be regained.
It was the only way of preserving the prestige
of the English race. Without delay, General
Barnard was placed in command of the force,
and on June 7th united his troops with those at
Meerut. In due course he advanced against
Delhi, taking up a position upon a commanding
plateau, which stood like a revolver pointing at
the heart of the city.
It was Delhi that was the heart of the Mutiny,
and coupled with the name of Delhi is that of
John Lawrence, the brother of the defender of
Lucknow. Truly has Dr. Fitchett said, “At
Cawnpore and Lucknow the British fought for
existence. At Delhi they fought for empire.”
To besiege Delhi, no matter with how small
a force, was to maintain British supremacy from
the very start. The man who had made that
possible was John Lawrence. He it was who
.pn +1 // Page 169.png
founded the Punjaub Frontier Force, who inspired
Nicholson, Edwardes, and Chamberlain,
who, in a word, prepared for the trouble while it
was barely a cloud upon the horizon. He it was
who brought 50,000 Sikhs into the war, and
“through him,” wrote Canning, “Delhi fell.”
It is not within our subject to deal with the
siege and storming of the city. The few details
that follow must only be regarded as rough indications
of the conflict. As the heart of the
Mutiny it would require a greater canvas than
it is possible to give here.
The Ridge commanding Delhi formed not only
a point of vantage but also a rampart of defence,
standing some 60 feet over the city. Even
then the situation was critical. The British
forces were plagued with cholera, and possessed
guns which could not be relied upon to fire with
accuracy. It was a struggle between a mere
handful of men on an open plateau and a fierce
and relentless army secured behind fortifications.
For nearly six weeks the Delhi Field Force
held its own on the Ridge, suffering attacks
almost daily, and carrying out sorties that were
sometimes successful, but were always accompanied
by great loss of life, and holding on like
grim death till the city should fall into their
hands.
On August 7 John Nicholson arrived, bringing
with him some artillery and cavalry, and also
the wonderful corps of Guides. News from the
rest of India was in no way cheering. During
the siege of Delhi, Sir Henry Lawrence had
.pn +1 // Page 170.png
fallen, Lucknow was not relieved, and Havelock
was as yet far away. Perceiving the gravity of
the position, Nicholson decided that the Sepoys
must receive a blow from which they could not
recover. “Delhi,” he said, “must be taken, and
at once.”
The news of the massacre at Cawnpore, with
all its tale of horror, had already reached the
troops, and they set out with renewed determination,
led by John Nicholson, “a tower of strength,
a guiding star,” who, at the head of the troops,
was the first to set foot upon the broken rampart.
The advance of the British was irresistible, but
it brought with it an irreparable loss. “It
was almost more than I could bear,” says
Roberts; “other men had daily died around me,
other comrades had been killed beside me, but I
never felt as I felt then. To lose Nicholson seemed
to me at that moment to lose everything.”
It was at sunrise on the morning of the 21st of
September, after days of hand-to-hand fighting in
the streets of Delhi, that the British at last gained
the ascendancy, but with the accomplishment of
their long endeavour had come the death of
Nicholson.
The news of this victory—and it was a great
victory at such a time—passed through the whole
of India and thence to England. After weeks of
fighting not only Sepoys, but also the ravages of
cholera, 10,000 troops had attacked and carried
a city defended at every point, losing 3000, and
with them one of the greatest men that have ever
defended the British flag.
.pn +1 // Page 171.png
The conquest of Delhi was the conquest of
revolt, and a handful of British soldiers had
made possible the re-establishment of the British
flag.
.pm verse-start
They carried Delhi city—
Men whose triumphant arms
Filled all the land with wonder,
And stirred with strange alarms
The Pathan in his fastness,
Or where by Jumna’s tide
The bold front of rebellion
Had flourished in its pride.[#]
.pm verse-end
Whilst this long siege was in operation much
had happened elsewhere. At Lucknow Sir Henry
Lawrence had delayed an outbreak for a considerable
time. His influence over the Sepoys was very
great, and it was only because of the success of
the rebels elsewhere that they eventually decided
to fling in their lot with the rising.
Lawrence had been left very much to himself
during the earlier stages of the Mutiny.
Hearing of the outbreak at Meerut and the fall
of Delhi, he knew that in his isolated position he
must act on his own initiative, and accordingly
decided that he would concentrate the little force
of British troops—together with their wives and
families—in the Residency, the most hopeful place,
in his opinion, for a small force to defend. Here
he stored grain and built ramparts and trenches,
and when by the end of May the Sepoys were in
revolt, he was prepared to fight to the last.
At Cawnpore, where Nana Sahib, an Indian
.pn +1 // Page 172.png
inspired by the deepest hatred of the English, was
in command of the rebels, things were no more
promising. Early in June the first signs of insurrection
were visible, and the British, under Major-General
Sir Hugh Wheeler, fortified themselves as
best they could in a hospital barracks, where they
were speedily besieged. It was a most ill-chosen
place to make a stand. Their sufferings were
terrible, but for all that they held out for eighteen
days, after which, influenced by the frail hope
that the women and children would be spared,
General Wheeler came to terms with Nana Sahib.
No word had reached them that they would be
relieved or that Havelock was already on the
road to Cawnpore. Trusting to the word of
Nana Sahib, the garrison marched out—300
women and children, 150 soldiers, and the same
number of civilians. For the terrible details of
what followed one can best refer to Trevelyan’s
Cawnpore.
“All the world knows of the cruelty that
awaited them,” he writes. “They were permitted
to embark in boats, and no sooner had
they done so than the Sepoys opened fire. Those
who were not slaughtered were conveyed ashore
again and imprisoned. The white-haired General,
the English officers and the civilians were speedily
shot. But there still remained 122 women and
children, who were placed in the Assembly Rooms,
and here, and into this room—while Havelock
was almost at hand—there were sent seven men
to massacre the women and children and fling
their bodies into a well. This hideous duty was
.pn +1 // Page 173.png
not performed by the Sepoy soldiers, but by
certain hirelings who were heavily paid by Nana
Sahib.”
.sp 2
It was at this stage, when Lucknow was the
next point of attack and Cawnpore had already
fallen, that Havelock set out from Calcutta,
where he had been preceded by the 78th Seaforth
Highlanders.
The Persian campaign of 1856-57 was of little
importance, but it is interesting as the scene of
some activities—one cannot rate the foe more
generously—on the part of the 78th Highlanders
under Havelock and Outram, both fated to
bear a great share in repressing the Mutiny. At
Kooshab the “Ross-shire Buffs,” as the regiment
was called, distinguished themselves by routing
the Persian force most ignominiously. In consequence
of this action Havelock was greatly impressed
with their courage and stamina. “There
is a fine spirit in the ranks of this regiment,” he
wrote. “... I am convinced the regiment would
be second to none in the service if its high military
qualities were drawn forth. It is proud of its
colours, its tartan, and its former achievements.”
It was with this veteran battalion that Havelock
set out for Cawnpore.
Havelock was instructed that he should first
quieten all disturbances at Allahabad, and then
not lose a moment in relieving Sir Henry
Lawrence and General Wheeler. His force was
a comparatively insignificant one, lacking cavalry
altogether, its guns drawn by cattle, and numbering
.pn +1 // Page 174.png
only 1400 British soldiers. He was marching
through a hostile country, and certain to encounter
hundreds of thousands of well-armed Sepoys.
Soon enough news came of the massacre of Cawnpore,
but trusting that some at least of the garrison
were still holding out, he struggled onward.
To return to Lucknow. The whole ambition
of the rebels was now bent upon its destruction.
Sir Henry Lawrence, driven to despair by the
thought of what might happen to his helpless
women, had made one sortie, which, unfortunately,
had been heavily repulsed. He had been
overpowered by numbers, and compelled to fight
his way back into the Residency. So far everything
was favouring the Sepoys.
The long and arduous siege began, and had
it not been for his presence, it is doubtful whether
the little force could have cherished the courage
to hold out. To the last he urged them most
earnestly never to surrender.
Early in July Lawrence was fatally wounded,
and three days later died, leaving the heartbroken
garrison to carry on the defence. Upon
his tomb were written these simple and moving
words: “Here lies Henry Lawrence, who tried
to do his duty.”
On the 12th of July Havelock encountered the
rebels. It was the first time that the Sepoys had
come in contact with an efficient British force, but
when they saw the Highlanders they cried to
each other that here were the wives of the men
slain in Cawnpore and Delhi. It is recorded that
after a brief acquaintance with the Seaforths the
.pn +1 // Page 175.png
Sepoys would willingly have fled from the English
“women,” but there was no escape. Havelock
ordered his men to charge, and to go on charging,
and although the enemy were in a strong position
and admirably armed, they were quite unable to
resist the artillery and infantry that faced them.
For twenty-four hours the British had been marching,
and for as long a time they had tasted no
food, but on the morning of the 15th they set out
again upon their advance on Cawnpore. Again
and again they confronted the enemy in ever-increasing
numbers as they began to near the city.
At last on the night when they came within
twenty-three miles of Cawnpore, and fell upon the
ground to snatch a little rest, Nana Sahib, hearing
of their swift approach, signed the death-warrant
of the hapless women and children. The next
day—the 18th of July—saw the advance upon the
city. “The rays of the sun,” says one writer,
“darted down as if they had been concentrated
through a lens.” After all their privations and
their unconquerable march how tragic was their
victory to prove.
In the meantime, the Indian army, composed
of 5000 men with 8 guns, had come out to meet
Havelock, and it was well for the British that
Nana Sahib was anything but a competent
general. The Indian leader had settled very
definitely in his mind where Havelock was certain
to attack him, and he made his plans accordingly.
Fortunately Havelock was perfectly aware of
this, and the Sepoys learnt his real intentions too
late. One thing, however, was necessary, and
.pn +1 // Page 176.png
that was the muzzling of the native guns.
For this task the 78th Highlanders were chosen.
Under Colonel Hamilton they advanced, and
when they reached to some eighty yards of the
Indian artillery, they brought their bayonets to
the charge and flung themselves straight at the
gunners. In a few minutes the artillery was in
the hands of the British. The Sepoys retreated
behind a howitzer. Again the Highlanders were
rallied by Havelock, whose words, “Well done,
Highlanders! Another charge like that wins
the day,” rang out like a bugle call. Again
the Sepoys broke and set out towards Cawnpore,
rallying in a village some little way from the
city. Instantly Havelock galloped up to the
leading regiments and cried, “Who’ll take that
village? The Highlanders or the 64th?” The
rivalry thus inspired resulted very quickly in the
evacuation of the position by the Sepoys, and the
whole rebel army fell back towards Cawnpore.
The British were so exhausted by their unceasing
march, lack of food, and the terrible sun, that
they halted for a breathing-space, and Nana Sahib
chose that moment for a final effort, opening fire
upon their ranks with a large gun stationed upon
the Cawnpore road. The crisis of the battle had
come at last. Trevelyan has well pictured what
followed. “Then,” he says, “the mutineers
realised the change that a few weeks had
wrought out in the nature of the task which they
had selected and cut out for themselves. Embattled
in their national order, and burning with
more than their national lust of combat, on they
.pn +1 // Page 177.png
came, the unconquerable British infantry. The
grape was flying thick and true. Files rolled
over. Men stumbled and recovered themselves,
and went on for a while, and then turned and
hobbled to the rear. Closer and closer drew the
measured tramp of feet; and the heart of the
foe died within him, and his fire grew hasty and
ill-directed. As the last volley cut the air overhead,
our soldiers raised a mighty shout, and
rushed forward, each at his own pace, and then
every rebel thought only of himself. Those
nearest the place were the first to make away,
but throughout the host there were none who
still aspired to stay within push of the British
bayonets. Squadron after squadron, battalion
upon battalion, these humbled Brahmins dropped
their weapons, stripped off their packs and spurred
and ran, limped and scrambled back to the city
that was to have been the chief and central abode
of Sepoy domination.... At nightfall Dhondoo
Punth (Nana Sahib) entered Cawnpore upon a
chestnut horse drenched in perspiration, and
with bleeding flanks. A fresh access of terror
soon dismissed him again on his way to Bithoor,
sore and weary, his head swimming and his
chest heaving.”
The battle of Cawnpore was won, but the loss
had been considerable, and the massacre of the
hapless garrison was to take from the victory
all its joy. There are few episodes in our history
that have been conducted under more trying
circumstances. There have been terrible marches
undertaken, but few can be compared to the
.pn +1 // Page 178.png
advance on Cawnpore. As Havelock said in
issuing a report to the soldiers: “Between the
7th and 16th you have, under the Indian sun of
July, marched one hundred and twenty-six miles,
and fought four actions, but your comrades at
Lucknow are in peril. Agra is besieged, Delhi
is still the focus of mutiny and rebellion.”
During the night following the action a thunderous
report reached the ears of the British
force, to be followed by a dense cloud of smoke.
It split the silence of the Indian night and died
away. The rebels, before their retreat from the
city, had blown up the magazine.
The next day the Highlanders marched into
Cawnpore, a deserted city, with all the traces of
the horrible thing that had taken place there.
“Was it any wonder,” says one of the soldiers,
“that when men carried back with them to camp
a long heavy tress of golden hair, clean cut
through as if by the slash of a sharp sword, and
showed this token to comrades, who had been
fighting and marching, and striving and straining
that this thing might not be, was it any wonder
that our soldiers swore to exact a merciless
retribution as they stood around the dead, but
eloquent witness of this oath.”
The task that lay before Havelock was one
that might have made any man give way to
despair. Well might he have said, in the heroic
words of Scott: “I see before me a long tedious
and dark path but it leads to stainless reputation.
If I die in harness as is very likely, I shall
die with honour. If I achieve my task I shall
.pn +1 // Page 179.png
have the thanks of all concerned and the approval
of my conscience.” Death and disease had
reduced the numbers of his force to a bare 1500.
They were still faced by some fifty miles swarming
with the enemy, at the end of which they hoped
to rescue the garrison of Lucknow. “The
chances of relieving Lucknow,” said Havelock,
“are daily multiplying against us; the difficulties
of an advance are excessive.”
.fn #
John Nicholson, by Tinsley Pratt.
.fn-
.pn +1 // Page 180.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap17 title='17. With Sir Colin Campbell and the Sutherlands to Lucknow'
CHAPTER XVII | WITH SIR COLIN CAMPBELL AND THE SUTHERLANDS TO LUCKNOW
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Pipes of the misty moorlands,
Voice of the glens and hills;
The droning of the torrents,
The treble of the rills!
Not the braes of broom and heather,
Nor the mountains black with rain,
Nor maiden bower, nor border tower,
Have heard your sweetest strain!
The Pipes of Lucknow.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
Lucknow was fated to hear of three advances
to its relief. The initial attempt by Havelock
failed owing to lack of ammunition. He
was compelled to return to Cawnpore and
wait patiently until the arrival of Sir James
Outram.
On the 4th of August Havelock began his second
advance towards Lucknow, his force consisting of
Highlanders, Fusiliers, and Sikhs. Facing him
stretched thirty miles of the enemy’s country,
the city of Lucknow itself defended by a large
army, while a force of the enemy was detached to
cut his communications with Cawnpore. Cholera
again broke out in the ranks, and the whole situation
speedily became impossible. Havelock consulted
.pn +1 // Page 181.png
with his officers and they decided that it
would be useless to advance. He therefore fell
back upon Mungulwar and appealed to Sir Patrick
Grant for reinforcements.
Shortly afterwards the Seaforth Highlanders
distinguished themselves in an engagement with
the enemy, capturing two of their guns. The
Sepoys who threatened Cawnpore next received
Havelock’s attention, and were defeated, the
British falling back again upon the latter.
It was after this second advance of Havelock’s
that he was superseded by Sir James Outram.
No man could have taken over the command with
less satisfaction than Outram, but at the same
time no man could have made it as bearable to
Havelock. In the meantime news was received
from Lucknow that Inglis was determined to cut
his way out if the relieving force could not cut
their way in. “You must bear in mind,” he
wrote, “how I am hampered, that I have between
120 sick and wounded and at least 220 women
and about 230 children, and no carriage of any
description. In consequence of news received
I shall soon put this force on half rations; our
provisions will thus last us till the end of September.
If you hope to save this force no time
must be lost in pushing forward.”
Havelock instantly called for reinforcements.
Sir Colin Campbell, who had landed in Calcutta
as Commander-in-Chief, made every exertion to
forward the despatch of troops. Before the
advance Outram wrote to Havelock, “To you
shall be left the glory of relieving Lucknow,
.pn +1 // Page 182.png
for which you have already struggled so much.
I shall accompany you only in my civil capacity
as Commissioner, placing my military services at
your disposal if you please, serving under you as
a volunteer.”
With this cordiality between the leaders of
the Expedition the force set out upon its third,
this time the historic, march to save the women
and children in Lucknow.
Lucknow is roughly forty-five miles from
Cawnpore. The relieving army crossed the
Ganges, marched again on Mungulwar, and drove
the rebels back to Busseerutgunge. Their advance
until September 22—when they were
within some sixteen miles of Lucknow—was
almost uncontested. The swiftness of their approach
took the enemy by surprise. The Sepoys
put up a desperate resistance before Lucknow,
but by the charge of the Seaforths the bridge was
crossed and the city entered. Inside the Residency
anxiety grew almost unbearable. They
had heard so often rumours and more rumours of
relief. Already the garrison knew in their heart
that help was coming—eagerly they watched for
the first glimpse of a kent face in the dim street
below.
.pm verse-start
Oh, they listened, dumb and breathless,
And they caught the sound at last;
Faint and far beyond the Goomtee
Rose and fell the pipers’ blast!
Then a burst of wild thanksgiving
Mingled woman’s voice and man’s;
God be praised! The March of Havelock!
The piping of the clans!
.pm verse-end
.pn +1 // Page 183.png
The rebels had not yet realised how small a
force was opposing them, and when they did they
rallied again to the attack undismayed. The
British pushed on with desperate courage, driving
the Sepoys before them, fighting every inch of the
way towards the Residency. Night was falling
when the last terrible struggle commenced. It
was now or never. Already the Residency was
almost within hail. The Highlanders, supported
by the Sikhs, were in the forefront, and Havelock,
placing himself at their head, gave the order to
charge. Above the turmoil of the swaying street
the thin scream of the pipes pierced the hubbub
like the bell of a light-ship over a winter sea.
Suddenly the English watchers at the Residency
gates beheld the long-looked-for figures of the
British soldiery.
.pm verse-start
Louder, nearer, fierce as vengeance,
Sharp, and shrill as swords at strife,
Came the wild MacGregor’s clan-call
Stinging all the air to life.
But when the far-off dust-cloud
To plaided legions grew,
Full tenderly and blithesomely
The pipes of rescue blew!
.pm verse-end
It was a supreme, a dramatic moment. The
gates were flung open, and “from every pit,
trench, and battery—from behind the sand-bags
piled on shattered houses—from every post still
held by a few gallant spirits, rose cheer on cheer—even
from the hospital many of the wounded
crawled forth to join in that glad shout of welcome
to those who had so bravely come to our assistance.
It was a moment never to be forgotten.
.pn +1 // Page 184.png
The delight of the ever-gallant Highlanders,
who had fought twelve battles to enjoy that
moment of ecstasy, and in the last four days had
lost a third of their numbers, seemed to know no
bounds.”
It was mainly by the magnificent efforts of
the Seaforth Highlanders that a passage was
forced through the condensed masses of Sepoys
into the heart of Lucknow and into the Residency
itself. “Never did the valour of this gallant
regiment shine brighter than in this bloody
conflict.”
It had been the hope of Sir James Outram
that after the relief of Lucknow the garrison
would be able to withdraw under safe protection
to Cawnpore. Most unhappily, however, it became
evident that not only would it be impossible
for the troops to force their way out through
50,000 Sepoys, but that, as the provisions and
ammunition had been left temporarily in the
rear, they were in actual danger of becoming a
further drain upon the resources of the Residency.
Whatever hope there was that the soldiers could
fight their way out, there was little chance that
700 women and children would be able to reach
Cawnpore. But what they had brought, however,
was perhaps as good as food and arms—the
presence of strong hearts and news of Colin
Campbell. For six weeks, therefore, Havelock
and Outram and the Seaforths were in their turn
besieged in Lucknow.
.sp 2
In the meantime, namely the beginning of
.pn +1 // Page 185.png
November, troops had reached India from
England, and the officer in command was Sir
Colin Campbell, a name associated for all time
with the stand of the ‘thin red line’ at Balaclava.
He was sixty-five years of age, considerably
younger than Field-Marshal Roberts
when he was asked by the Government to go to
South Africa. But he was only too ready to
start to the support of the hapless garrison.
Landing at Calcutta on August 13, he reached
Cawnpore on November 3, and on the 9th was
already on the road to Lucknow.
Under Sir Colin Campbell were some 4700
men, a small force of cavalry, the Naval Brigade,
artillery, and amongst the infantry the veteran
Sutherland Highlanders. It is related that when
Sir Colin passed before the ranks of the ‘thin
red line,’ preliminary to the advance on Lucknow,
he cried, “93rd! You are my own lads. I rely
on you to do the work.” At which a reply came,
“Ay, ay, Sir Colin, ye ken us, and we ken you.
We’ll bring the women and children out of
Lucknow, or die with you in the attempt.”
On November 12 the British had reached the
Alumbagh. At this point Colin Campbell decided
that he would not force his way through the
narrow lanes of the city, but would take what
was called the Dilkusha Park—a property some
two miles to the east of the Residency. Making
that his base, he planned to attack the north of
the city, forcing his way by the Secundrabagh.
In the meantime Outram had despatched
particulars to Campbell regarding the plans of
.pn +1 // Page 186.png
the city. He also sent a guide named Kavanagh.
Kavanagh disguised himself as a Sepoy, and
dropping out of the Residency at night, passed
safely through the hordes of Sepoys, and crossing
the river managed to reach the British. Never
did his nerve fail him. By mistake he ran into
a battery of the enemy’s guns. The slightest
hesitation would have betrayed the fact that,
despite his disguise, he was not an Indian. With
the utmost coolness he made a great business of
inspecting the guns, and thus disarming the
suspicion of the Sepoy soldiers, walked on in a
leisurely manner, and in due course reached the
British lines. In all the history of heroism in
the Mutiny it would be difficult to find a more
hazardous undertaking than that of Kavanagh.
He was afterwards awarded the Victoria Cross.
On the 15th Sir Colin Campbell made a feint
of assaulting the extreme left, but during the
night he advanced in another quarter, and by
the morning was in full march upon the fortified
position to his right. The Secundrabagh was
a garden of considerable size, with walls 20
feet high, and reached by a narrow lane. By
a dexterous movement the British guns were
moved up to the top of this lane, and from thence
opened fire upon the walls, and for nearly an
hour the bombardment went on. At last a
breach was made, and the three regiments of
the 53rd, the Sutherlands, and the Sikhs darted
forward, each determined to be the first among
the enemy. Indeed it is doubtful whether any
command was given; the soldiers—straining like
.pn +1 // Page 187.png
dogs upon the leash—were only too anxious to
take the first excuse for a charge. It is recorded
that a drummer-boy of the 93rd was one of the
first to leap over the breach, and as Roberts himself
has written, “When I got in I found him just
inside the breach, lying on his back quite dead.
A pretty, innocent-looking, fair-headed lad, not
more than fourteen years old.”
Their officers all shot, the Sikhs hesitated.
Sir Colin Campbell saved the situation. “Colonel
Ewart,” he cried, “bring on the tartan!” and
at that, says an eye-witness, “the whole seven
companies like one man leaped for the wall
with such a yell of pent-up rage as I never
heard before or since.” In the face of this
Gaelic charge the Sepoys were driven back
into the building. The rebels were hounded
back from floor to floor, and from building to
building. In the records of war there have been
few scenes of slaughter so fierce as that which
took place at the Secundrabagh. Hardly a
Sepoy escaped, and without pausing, the Highlanders
rushed on to the attack of the Shah
Nujeef. It took many hours for these positions
to be stormed, during which Major Branston
was killed, and the late Lord Wolseley—then a
promising young officer—took the command.
But the tide was on the turn. Gradually the
artillery asserted its superiority, and at last Sir
Colin Campbell, galloping up to the 93rd, announced
that the place must be carried, and that
he himself would give them the lead, at which
they answered proudly and with a fear for his
.pn +1 // Page 188.png
safety, “We can lead ourselves.” But it is
doubtful whether it would have been possible
to take this position had not the gallantry of
Sergeant John Paton, V.C., come to the aid of
the Sutherlands. He had discovered a breach in
the rampart, and owing to this invaluable news
the place was speedily carried. From the point
known as the ‘Mess-house,’ Campbell signalled
to the Residency that they were on the eve of
their last attack. Full of joy Outram began to
advance to meet the relieving force, carrying one
building after another until, at last, that memorable
scene took place when Havelock, Campbell,
and Outram shook hands before the Mess-house.
Havelock, who was profoundly touched, could
be heard saying, “Soldiers! I am happy to
see you. Soldiers! I am happy to think you
got into this place with a smaller loss than I
did.” But it was no time for speeches of congratulation.
There were still the women and
children to be saved. Outside the Residency
there lurked an enemy five times more numerous
than the British troops. Again the besieged
saw the Highlanders fight their way in, and
again they were to learn that danger still threatened
their lives.
.if h
.il fn=i_166.jpg id=sutherland w=60% alt='Battle scene'
.ca The Sutherland Highlanders at Lucknow
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: THE SUTHERLAND HIGHLANDERS AT LUCKNOW]
.if-
After the dramatic entry it was decided that
the garrison must be conveyed out of range of
the enemy, and so adroitly was this conducted
that the Sepoys did not realise until many hours
after the Residency was evacuated that the
British had evaded them and were in retreat
upon Cawnpore.
.pn +1 // Page 191.png
Havelock, the brave defender of Lucknow,
died almost as soon as the withdrawal had begun.
He contracted illness through running three-quarters
of a mile under a heavy fire to greet the
relieving force. As he was dying he turned to
Outram with the memorable words: “I have
for forty years so ruled my life that when death
came I might face it without fear.” No loss
could have cast a darker shadow over the withdrawal.
With all speed Sir Colin Campbell made his
way towards the Alumbagh, where he left Outram
with 4000 men as garrison until the final assault
upon Lucknow should take place. Until that
time came the Alumbagh was to be held as a
revolver at the head of Lucknow.
Unfortunately bad news came from Cawnpore,
which had been left with a garrison of 500 troops
under Windham, a Crimean soldier. It was
threatened by Nana Sahib, whose mind was
concentrated upon a second massacre, and the
defeat of the British troops. Sir Colin Campbell
had many perils to face. In his rear lay a
hostile country, between Lucknow and Cawnpore
a Sepoy force of some 14,000 men might threaten
him at any moment, while over Cawnpore there
hung a cloud of dangers, known and dreaded.
Should Windham be defeated the bridge of boats
across the Ganges would fall into the hands of
the enemy, leaving Sir Colin with his little
force of soldiers and the large number of sick
and wounded hopelessly cut off.
It was with these anxious thoughts in his
.pn +1 // Page 192.png
mind that he received a despatch from Windham
marked, ‘Most urgent,’ and indicating that the
garrison at Cawnpore were in a perilous state.
Campbell knew that if the worst came to the
worst, Windham would have fallen back within
the entrenchments of the city, which meant that
Cawnpore proper would be in the hands of the
rebels. It was a hazardous position for any
general. Every moment was precious, and Sir
Colin appealed to his gallant Highlanders to
make all speed. Let us see how they answered
the call. With the utmost haste the force
laboured on, and in the words of one of them,
“The whole army eagerly pressed on towards
the scene of danger.... The anxiety and impatience
of all became extreme. Louder and
louder grew the roar—faster and faster became
the march—long and weary was the way—tired
and footsore grew the infantry—death fell on the
exhausted wounded with terrible rapidity—the
travel-worn bearers could hardly stagger along
under their loads—the sick men groaned and died.
But still, on, on, on, was the cry. Salvos of
artillery were fired by the field battery of the
advanced guard in hopes that its sound might
convey to the beleaguered garrison a promise of
the coming aid. At last some horsemen were
seen spurring along the road; then the veil
that had for so long shrouded us from Windham
was rent asunder, and the disaster stood before
us in all its deformity.”
Roberts was despatched to ascertain if the
bridges were still in the hands of the British. He
.pn +1 // Page 193.png
found an officer on guard, and learned from him
that Windham was surrounded on three sides.
Spurring on he made his way into the entrenchments
and delivered his message. There followed
a dramatic incident. From far off came the
clatter of hoofs. A little party of cavalry, headed
by a familiar figure, galloped towards the fort.
Sir Colin Campbell had come himself! His appearance
at that critical moment had the same
electric effect as the first glimpse of his worn face
in the shell-raked streets of Lucknow. Always
impetuous, he had no sooner despatched Roberts
than he must hasten upon the same errand.
Meeting the officer at the bridges he had inquired
how matters stood, and received the reply, “Windham’s
men are at their last gasp.” It was not
the sort of remark to make to the commander
of the 93rd Highlanders. “How dare you say
of Her Majesty’s troops that they are at their
last gasp?” he roared, and hurrying across the
bridges he carried to the disheartened garrison
the inspiration of his indomitable personality.
With the breaking of the dawn the plain across
the river was white with the tents of the British
Army, and in a short time the smoke of battle
began to trail across the Ganges. The conflict
for the bridges began, and Sir Colin, who fully
realised that sooner or later the Sepoys would
rightly appreciate the importance of preventing
the British crossing the river, stationed Peel
and his artillery upon the other bank. The
Sutherlands, under a very heavy shell fire,
reached the position where the hapless Wheeler
.pn +1 // Page 194.png
had withstood for so long Nana Sahib’s soldiery.
They were the first to cross, but by the evening
the army were on the Cawnpore side of the river.
For a few days they maintained their position
there without assuming the offensive, and on
December 3 Sir Colin despatched a convoy conveying
the sick and wounded to a place of safety.
This settled, the British set about the defeat
of the rebels. But before the attack commenced
a new regiment reached the troops before Cawnpore.
The Black Watch—having marched
seventy-eight miles in three days—came into line
with the 93rd, and Sir Colin Campbell greeted
his old comrades of the Crimea, shaking hands
with the officers and speaking to the men. On
December 6 the action commenced. Under Sir
Colin were some 5000 troops, a small body of
cavalry, 35 guns, and opposed to him 25,000
Sepoys.
The engagement opened with Windham’s
artillery. Presently the Highlanders of the 42nd
advanced, their bayonets gleaming white in the
sunlight. Driving the enemy before them they
made way for Peel and his sailors, together with
their 24-pounder. The swift approach of the
Highlanders was irresistible, “and so complete,”
says one writer, “was the surprise, so unexpected
was the onslaught, that the chupatties were
found heating upon the fires, bullocks stood tied
behind the hackeries, the sick and wounded were
lying in the hospitals, the smith left his forge,
and the surgeon his ward, to fly from the avenging
bayonets.”
.pn +1 // Page 195.png
In the meantime the rebel right, struck by
an iron hand, was flung into an irretrievable
confusion, and took to its heels. “Gun after gun
was spiked; cartloads of ammunition lay strewed
along the road. For two miles without a check
the pursuit was carried on by the 17th battery
alone, accompanied by Hope Grant and his
staff. Four times in that distance did we go into
action to clear our front and our flanks, until
General Grant, thinking wisely that we were too
far from our supports, determined to wait for
more artillery. Then a small cloud coming
nearer and nearer was seen on the left, and the
head of the cavalry column debouched from a
grove. The order for a further pursuit was
given; the cavalry spread like lightning over
the plain in skirmishing order. Sir Colin took
the lead, and the pursuit was continued, taking
all the character of a fox-hunt.”
After the rout of the enemy came the return
of the victorious British troops, who cheered
Sir Colin Campbell, as the Kabul-Kandahar Field
Force cheered Roberts on the road to Sibi.
“In front,” says one writer, “came the 9th
Lancers with three captured standards at their
head, the wild-looking Sikh horsemen rode in
the rear. As they passed the Commander-in-Chief
he took off his hat to them with some words
of thanks and praise. The Lancers shook their
lances in the air and cheered; the Sikhs took up
the cry, waving their sabres above their heads.
The men carrying the standards gave them to
the wind; the Highland Brigade who were
.pn +1 // Page 196.png
encamped close by ran down and cheered both
the victorious cavalry and the veteran chief,
waving their bonnets in the air. It was a fair
sight, a reminder of the old days of chivalry.”
With the relief of Cawnpore, there followed
a few days in which the army awaited anxiously
the order to advance again on Lucknow. The
delay was caused by a difference of opinion
between Sir Colin Campbell and Lord Canning.
The latter was most anxious that Lucknow should
be retaken once and for good; Sir Colin, who
was ever a methodical soldier, was strongly of
belief that it would be better to concentrate the
British forces before the advance commenced.
Lord Canning won the day, and in the beginning
of March 1858 the final assault upon Lucknow
took place. By this time the forces of the rebels
had been badly broken up and dispirited. The
tide had turned, fresh troops were pouring into
India, everything was in favour of the British.
Instead of the little force which had accompanied
Havelock to Lucknow, the British commander
had a siege train with guns and ammunition and
stores, 30,000 men, and more than 150 guns.
On January 19 the Queen had written to Sir
Colin Campbell congratulating him on his Indian
campaign, and mentioning in particular the
gallantry of the 93rd Sutherland Highlanders.
With this letter had come a despatch from the
Duke of Cambridge, begging Sir Colin to place
himself at the head of the 93rd as their Colonel,
which he was only too proud to do. In the
attack upon Lucknow and under Sir Colin Campbell
.pn +1 // Page 197.png
were the Black Watch, the Sutherlands, and
the Camerons—the Brigade that he had led to
victory in the Crimea. The Camerons had arrived
shortly before, and were given a cordial welcome
by their comrades. The task before the British
was a very severe one, despite the large numbers
in the field; it was also a very critical one.
Should the rebels be completely crushed then
the Indian Mutiny would be virtually at an end,
but since the retreat of Sir Colin to Cawnpore
their numbers had been greatly strengthened,
their fortifications largely rebuilt, and an outer
line erected, heavily protected by cannon.
Lucknow was a wonderful city. Dr. Russell, in
his Diary in India, has described it as “a vision of
palaces, minarets, domes azure and golden, cupolas,
colonnades, long façades of fair perspective
in pillars and columns, terraced roofs, all rising
up amid a calm, still ocean of the brightest
verdure. Look for miles and miles away, and
still the ocean spreads and the towers of the
fairy city gleam in its midst. Spires of gold
glitter in the sun, turrets and gilded spheres
shine like constellations.”
On the 9th of March Sir Colin Campbell opened
the engagement that was to prove the most final
and the most terrible of the Indian Mutiny. It
was given to the Black Watch to lead the attack,
while in support were the Sutherlands.
The 42nd advanced in perfect order, their
pipes playing ‘The Campbells are comin’.’ They
were received by a hot fire from the rebels,
but with the eyes of the army upon them the
.pn +1 // Page 198.png
veterans of the Alma never paused in their stride.
The Sepoys did not wait to dispute the matter
with them, but fell back towards the city, where
the Begum’s Palace was to prove the citadel of
their defence. The suburbs of Lucknow were
quickly in the hands of the British, and the 93rd
led the attack upon the Begum’s Palace. It
was a place of tremendous strength, the walls
loopholed and the gateways strongly protected,
with an exceedingly deep ditch before the whole
front of the position. For a long time the
artillery kept up a bombardment of the walls
in the frail hope that a breach would be made,
and that, as in the attack upon the Secundrabagh,
the Highlanders would obtain a foothold.
On the following day the artillery suddenly
ceased fire, the Sutherlands leapt to their feet,
for a few minutes took cover in the building
facing the position, and then charged for the
ditch. “Every obstacle,” says Captain Burgoyne,
“that could be opposed to the stormers
had been prepared by the enemy; every room,
door, gallery, or gateway was so obstructed and
barricaded that only a single man could pass at
a time. Almost every window or opening that
could afford the slightest shelter was occupied
by the enemy, and in threading their way through
the narrow passages and doorways our men were
exposed to unseen foes.”
It would appear to have been an almost
impossible position to take, but the Sutherlands
never flinched, and the more foes and the greater
numbers of the enemy that faced them the more
.pn +1 // Page 199.png
did they press on with the bayonet. A hand-to-hand
struggle lasting for two hours took place,
while above the din of the conflict rang the shrill
notes of the pipes of John Macleod—the Pipe-Major
of the 93rd. The engagement was very
similar to that of the Secundrabagh, the Highlanders
pursuing the enemy from courtyard to
courtyard, from room to room, giving no quarter,
and expecting none.
Well might the Brigadier write in his despatch,
“The Brigadier-General has shared in many a
hard-fought action during his service, but on
no occasion has he witnessed a more noble and
determined advance than was made by the 93rd
this day.”
By March 20 the rebels were finally driven
back, and Lucknow was captured. We must
not forget that in the siege the Camerons
were also engaged, but in another part of the
operations, being included in the division under
Outram. There is very little information regarding
their share in the engagement, while the 93rd
and the 42nd were achieving such memorable
work elsewhere. But it is certain, from the Life
of Outram, that the Cameron Highlanders engaged
in the suburbs of Lucknow managed to
repulse the enemy with considerable loss.
Following the storming of Lucknow, Sir Colin
Campbell prepared the dispersion of the enemy
at Bareilly. This town was to be reached by
two columns, converging upon it from different
directions, one under the command of General
Walpole, with whom were the 42nd and the
.pn +1 // Page 200.png
93rd, and the other under the command of
Brigadier-General John Jones. The first attack
by Walpole resulted in a reverse, and the loss
of Brigadier Adrian Hope, a most distinguished
officer, whose death caused amongst the members
of the Highland regiments the deepest resentment
and distress. The incident was like that later
one of Magersfontein, one that rankled—whether
justly or not we cannot say—for many years.
The loss of the 42nd was very heavy, and later
on Sir Colin Campbell himself took command,
advancing upon Bareilly.
On May 5 there was a fierce attack upon the
British by the Ghazees, a fanatical tribe, and, as
Sir Colin himself said, “the most determined
effort he had seen during the war.” Uttering
their fierce shouts, they flung themselves upon
the Black Watch. Colonel Cameron was dragged
from his horse; General Walpole was wounded,
and had it not been for the presence of Sir Colin
Campbell himself, the Highlanders might have
been overcome by the fierceness of this attack,
being outflanked as well as outfaced by the
enemy.
On the following day the British delivered
their attack upon Bareilly, practically clearing
the position of the enemy. The remnants were
dispersed by the 93rd. This action concludes
the main features of the Highland regiments’
part in the Indian Mutiny campaign.
The 42nd remained in India until January 1868,
nearly ten years after the 78th had marched into
Edinburgh with the band playing ‘Scotland Yet.’
.pn +1 // Page 201.png
It would not be fitting to conclude a chapter
on the Indian Mutiny without recalling the name
of Sir Colin Campbell. Broken in health through
the toils and anxieties of the campaign, he was
compelled to return to England, where he was
raised to the Peerage as Baron Clyde. The
remaining years of his life were spent in the quiet
enjoyment of the honours that were showered
upon him by a grateful country, and on August
14, 1863, the great Scottish soldier passed away,
and was buried in Westminster Abbey.
.sp 2
.ce
THE BATTLE HONOURS OF THE ARGYLL AND SUTHERLAND HIGHLANDERS
Cape of Good Hope, 1806; Rolica, Vimiera, Corunna,
Pyrenees, Nivelle, Nive, Orthez, Toulouse, Peninsula, Alma,
Balaclava, Sevastopol, Lucknow; South Africa, 1846-1847,
1851-1852-1853, 1879; South Africa, 1899-1902; Modder
River, Paardeberg.
.sp 2
The 1st Battalion was raised in 1794 and called the 91st
Argyllshire Highlanders.
The 2nd Battalion was raised in 1799 and known as
the 93rd Sutherland Highlanders.
The two regiments became the 1st and 2nd Battalions of
the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders in 1881.
.pn +1 // Page 202.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap18 title='18. Wolseley and the Black Watch in Ashanti (1873-1874)'
CHAPTER XVIII | WOLSELEY AND THE BLACK WATCH IN ASHANTI | (1873-1874)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
The Campbells are comin’, O ho, O ho!
The Campbells are comin’, O ho!
The Campbells are comin’ to bonnie Lochleven,
The Campbells are comin’, O ho, O ho!
Regimental March.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
After the Mutiny we say farewell, as it were,
to the Old Guard of the Crimea and India,
and hear a great deal about the younger men,
Wolseley, Roberts, and White, all of whom had
been through the Mutiny, two of them being destined
to attain to the highest distinction that the
British Army can bestow.
Garnet Wolseley was born in Dublin on
June 4, 1833. He lost the use of one eye in the
Crimea, served in India during the Mutiny, and
in the Chinese War of 1860. In 1861 he crossed
to Canada, and in 1870 conquered Louis Riel,
the half-breed. In 1873 he led an expedition to
Ashanti. There have been many places of horror
and oppression in the histories of savage peoples,
but it is doubtful whether there was ever a town
so foul and brutal as Coomassie, the capital of
.pn +1 // Page 203.png
Ashanti. The shedding of blood was the daily
delight and pastime of the king, while murder
upon a prodigal scale was to him and to his people
a kind of rite. His subjects, instead of rebelling
against these practices, delighted in such spectacles,
and encouraged Koffi Calcalli, the king,
to further outrages and orgies. It was, as some
one has called it, ‘a metropolis of murder.’ So
far, however, Britain had not seen her way to
interfere, and had she done so, simply on the
ground of common humanity, it is probable that
other nations would have suspected her of
conspiring to take over the country. At last
King Koffi, craving for something new, decided
that he would attack the English at Cape Coast
Castle. Fortunately he was not able to achieve
very much, but on the other hand the English
were not strong enough to retaliate. This
position was rendered all the more dangerous
by the policy of toleration, which from the
year 1824, when the Ashantis defeated Sir
Charles M’Carthy, to the year 1863, when a
West Indian regiment failed most signally,
had given the natives a poor opinion of the
English arms. It was therefore necessary for
the safety of the English settlers that an
Expeditionary Force should leave for Ashanti.
It sailed under the command of Sir Garnet
Wolseley, with whom were the Black Watch
under Sir John Macleod.
It was no ‘picnic,’ to quote from a popular
expression of to-day; and to give some idea of
the country through which the Black Watch
.pn +1 // Page 204.png
marched, I shall quote a paragraph from Sir
Henry Stanley’s Coomassie and Magdala.
“Coomassie,” he says, “was a town insulated
by a deadly swamp. A thick jungly forest—so
dense that the sun seldom pierced the foliage,
so sickly that the strongest fell victims to the
malarias it cherished—surrounded it to a depth
of one hundred and forty miles seaward, many
hundred miles east, as many more west, and a
hundred miles north. Through this forest and
swamp, unrelieved by any novelty or a single
pretty landscape, the British Army had to march
one hundred and forty miles, leaving numbers
behind sick of fever and dysentery.”
To force their way through this fastness of
almost impenetrable jungle called for both
patience and courage. Wolseley received some
assistance from the Fantees, who were enemies
of the Ashantis. These natives cut a passage
through the forests for the British troops. By
the time the Black Watch landed at Cape Coast
Castle in January 1874 this preparatory work
had been completed.
The Highlanders presented an unfamiliar appearance,
being clothed in Norfolk grey, which
for several excellent reasons was considered a
safer form of dress for the troops than the kilt.
Associated with the expedition were officers
whose names were soon to become familiar to
the whole of the English-speaking race. There
were Evelyn Wood, Archibald Alison—future
commander of the Highland Brigade—Redvers
Buller, all men of sterling quality, while
.pn +1 // Page 205.png
Wolseley, whose long life closed in 1913, was
a leader possessed of infinite perseverance and
with a genius for organisation.
For a time the Fantees gave their assistance
as carriers, and without delay the expedition
started into the interior, and, having crossed
the Prah River, came in contact with the enemy,
who were now only too anxious, were it possible,
to come to conciliatory terms with the British.
These negotiations failed, and a large number of
presumably friendly natives having disappeared,
the British expedition were faced by a jungle
of ninety miles to their front, at the end of which
was the stronghold of King Koffi.
Stanley, who was with the expedition, has
related that when they came in touch with the
enemy for the first time he turned out to see the
Black Watch march past to the attack. “We
had but barely finished our breakfasts,” he
relates, “and buckled our belts on, when our
servants informed us that the white troops were
close by. Hastening to the square or plaza of
the village, we were in time to witness the famous
‘Black Watch’ come up, all primed and ready
for action. This was our first view of the fighting
42nd Highlanders, and I must say I improved
the occasion to get a good look at them, as if I
had never seen a British regiment in my life.
Their march past was done with an earnest
determined stride that promised well for their
behaviour, whatever might lie at the front.”
The Black Watch was under the command of
Major Macpherson of Cluny, to whom reference
.pn +1 // Page 206.png
has already been made in a former chapter. He
was a descendant of that Cluny Macpherson who,
little more than a hundred years before, had
been in arms for Prince Charlie.
The forest confronting the Highlanders was
intersected by narrow paths, and, in order to
advance, and keep in touch with one another,
the 42nd availed themselves of these lanes, thus
throwing themselves open to a flank attack by
the enemy from the dense bush upon either side.
They advanced in skirmishing order, firing as
they went, unable to see their foe, but knowing
very well of his near presence by the hail of slugs
that whistled about their heads. For a brief
space of time the whole proximity of forest would
appear perfectly lifeless, and then, with spurts
of fire from every side, a deafening cannonade
would be opened. Undaunted, the Highlanders
pressed on, firing as they could and when they
could, while over their heads the shells of the
naval brigade whined and crashed into the trees.
The Ashantis, who so far had reposed the
utmost trust in their fetishes, grew at last discouraged
with the steady advance of the British.
The roadway, over which they had rushed in
their headlong retreat, was now bespattered
with human blood, while here and there lay the
unhappy victims of their sacrifices. Perceiving
these significant signs of weakening, the advance
of the Black Watch was quickened. Sir Archibald
Alison, realising that the turning-point
had come, ordered the pipes to strike up, and
with the ‘Campbells are comin’’ the Highlanders
.pn +1 // Page 207.png
charged swiftly after the enemy, who,
confronted with lines of cold steel, and deafened
by the booming thunder of the great naval guns,
made headlong for Coomassie. One who took
part in the conflict has well written: “Never
was battle fought admitting of less distinction.
It is impossible, indeed, to give a picturesque
account of an affair in which there was nothing
picturesque; in which scarcely a man saw an
enemy from the commencement to the end of
the fight; in which there was no manœuvring,
no brilliant charges, no general concentration of
troops; but which consisted simply of lying
down, of creeping through the bush, of gaining
ground foot by foot, and pouring a ceaseless fire
into every bush in front which might contain an
invisible foe. Nothing could have been better
than Sir Garnet Wolseley’s plan of battle or
more admirably adapted for the foe with whom
he had to deal. Where he attacked us he found
himself opposed by a continuous front of men,
who kept his flank attacks at bay, while the 42nd
pushed steadily and irresistibly forward. To
that regiment belong, of course, the chief honours
of the day, but all did exceedingly well.”
After this opening engagement Wolseley halted
for the night, and on the following day his advance
was continued, the River Ordah being reached.
Here King Koffi determined to resist the encroachment
upon his country and the menace to
his capital. It was necessary to throw a bridge
across the river, and when this was completed
the Rifle Brigade crossed and came into touch
.pn +1 // Page 208.png
with the enemy. For a long time their resistance
was so warmly sustained that the British could
make no advance, but after seven hours’ fighting
Wolseley did what in Stanley’s opinion he should
have done long before, he ordered up the Black
Watch. Colonel Macleod, who was in command,
gave the order, “The 42nd will fire volleys by
companies according to order. Forward!” Immediately
there commenced the final advance
on Coomassie, throughout which the Highlanders
were met by a resistance more determined than
ever before.
The arrival of the 42nd turned the scales at
once. Their tactics—the front rank firing to
the right and the rear rank firing to the left—enabled
them to advance without exposing their
flanks to the volleys of an invisible foe. Wherever
the Ashantis were observed to be huddled
together, either in the lanes or in confusion in
the bush, the Highlanders charged them with
the bayonet, driving them away helter-skelter.
Nothing stopped the onward march, and the
whole heart went out of the enemy when they
realised that it was impossible to distract or
confuse the Highlanders by ambuscades on their
flanks. To make a stand for their capital—that
was the only thing left. All around the British
sounded the cow-horns of the enemy giving
the signal for retreat.
The result of this swift approach of the 42nd
was that all the villages before Coomassie were
speedily captured, and Sir Archibald Alison
despatched the news to Wolseley, saying that if
.pn +1 // Page 209.png
he were reinforced he could enter Coomassie
that night. As Stanley has remarked: “Mere
laudation is not enough for the gallantry which
distinguished this regiment when in action....
They proceeded along the well-ambushed road
as if on parade, by twos. Vomiting out two score
of bullets to the right and two score to the left
the companies volleyed and thundered as they
marched past the ambuscades, cheers rising
from the throats of the lusty Scots, until the
forest rang again with the discordant medley of
musketry, bagpipe, and vocal sounds.... Very
many were borne back frightfully disfigured and
seriously wounded, but the regiment never halted
nor wavered; on it went until the Ashantis,
perceiving it useless to fight against men who
would advance heedless of ambuscades, rose
from their coverts and fled panic-stricken towards
Coomassie, being perforated by balls whenever
they showed themselves to the hawk-eyed
Scots.”
So swift had been their oncoming and so profound
the impression they had made upon the
Ashantis, that when Coomassie was reached the
Highlanders marched into it without opposition,
and later in the evening Wolseley himself passed
between the lines of the victorious 42nd, who
greeted him with cheer upon cheer.
The destruction of the horrible town took place,
and without further delay Wolseley led his
troops back to Cape Coast Castle.
On March 23 the regiment landed at Portsmouth,
where they were the centre of a tremendous
.pn +1 // Page 210.png
enthusiasm. Thus was concluded one
of our smaller campaigns, in which the historic
Black Watch conducted itself with that resourceful
determination and dogged bravery that has
ever distinguished it.
.pn +1 // Page 211.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap19 title='19. With Roberts and the Seaforths to Afghanistan (1878-1880)'
CHAPTER XIX | WITH ROBERTS AND THE SEAFORTHS TO AFGHANISTAN | (1878-1880)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Kabul town’s by Kabul river—
Blow the bugle, draw the sword—
There I lef’ my mate for ever,
Wet an’ drippin’ by the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river,
Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark!
There’s the river up and brimmin’, an’ there’s ‘arf a squadron swimmin’
‘Cross the ford o’ Kabul river in the dark.
Kipling.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
It would be quite beyond the scope of this book
to deal with the causes that led up to the conflict
in Afghanistan, but it would be expedient to
glance at the most prominent features of the
Afghan trouble. Afghanistan lies at the north
of India, and forms the boundary state between
the possessions of Russia and of England. For
this reason it was compelled to trust neither
Russia nor England, and to play a lone hand
for its own independence. In 1878 the ruler
of Afghanistan was named Shere Ali, a very
cunning and unscrupulous man, inspired by the
desire to sustain his own independence while
siding with the strongest of his neighbours—a
policy as old as the world itself.
.pn +1 // Page 212.png
It was suggested that a British officer should
take up his residence at Kabul, and at that Shere
Ali for a moment dropped the mask. He opposed
the suggestion very strongly, for excellent
reasons, since he was in touch with Russia. It
instantly became imperative that the Government
should act, so they proposed forthwith to send
a Mission to confer with Shere Ali. “The Amir
must choose,” said Lord Lytton, “which of his
powerful neighbours he will rely upon, and he
must learn that if he does not promptly prove
himself our loyal friend we shall be obliged to
regard him as our enemy and treat him accordingly.
A tool in the hands of Russia I will
never allow him to become. Such a tool it
would be my duty to break before it could be
used.” They were courageous words, but uttered
rather late.
With Eastern caution Shere Ali did not refuse
point-blank to receive the Mission, but was
obviously satisfied—as Lord Lytton wrote to
Lord Salisbury—that there was nothing more
to be got out of the British. For several months
the matter was allowed to drop, as England was
fully occupied with the threatening of war with
Russia over the old question of Turkey. During
these rumours of hostilities the Amir, who
followed the European Press very carefully, was
more and more inclined to throw in his lot with
Russia, and with this end in view pushed on the
fortifications and the manufacture of guns and
ammunition at Kabul. Presently news was
received by the Government that a Russian
.pn +1 // Page 213.png
envoy had been welcomed by Shere Ali with
demonstrations of the greatest friendliness. One
feature of the situation became self-evident.
Should war break out Russia would make her
attack on India through Afghanistan.
The signing of the Berlin Treaty staved off
the war between Russia and England, but the
reception given to the Russian envoy by the Amir
could not so easily be ignored. Accordingly Lord
Lytton decided that a Mission must be received by
Shere Ali to prevent the situation appearing as
a slight upon the British arms. When Stolieloff,
the Russian envoy, was shown the letter he merely
remarked to the agitated Amir, “Two swords cannot
go into one scabbard.” Those words nerved
Shere Ali to oppose the passing of the English
Mission through the Khyber Pass. It was a
humiliating situation, and as Sir Neville Chamberlain
wrote in his letter to the Viceroy, “Nothing
could have been more distinct, nothing more
humiliating to the British Crown and nation.”
Through their vacillation the Government had
now convinced the Amir—as they were later on
to delude the Boers—that they would never take
action, and as one native Prince remarked with
engaging frankness to Chamberlain, “The people
say, and we think, that you will still do nothing.”
That, quite briefly, was the situation when the
Government decided to send a force to Afghanistan.
It was composed of two columns—one
advancing towards Kandahar, the other by the
Kuram Valley. In command of this latter
column was Major-General Sir Frederick Roberts,
.pn +1 // Page 214.png
while under him were included the 72nd (the
1st Battalion Seaforth Highlanders), who had
already seen service in Central India, and who,
together with the 92nd (Gordon Highlanders),
will principally occupy our attention during this
campaign.
Frederick Roberts was born in India in 1832,
being the son of a distinguished soldier, Sir
Abraham Roberts, called the ‘patriarch of Indian
Generals,’ while two of his uncles had been in
the Navy. He was at the relief of Lucknow and
the fall of Delhi. During his long life he saw
much service, never meeting with a serious
reverse. His last years were employed in a vain
appeal for National Service, and his death in
1914 was where he would best have wished it—within
sound of the guns.
The advance towards Kabul was naturally
somewhat prolonged, owing to the extremely
difficult character of the country. It was necessary
to carry a great quantity of baggage and
commissariat. Everything went smoothly until
the Peiwar Kotal was sighted, where the Afghans
were at last seen to be in force. It was six in
the morning, and very dark, when the sentinels of
the enemy were first discovered. There followed
a charge by the Highlanders and the Gurkhas,
but the main force of the Afghans awaited the
attack upon the strongly defended heights of
the Peiwar Kotal, which guarded the only
approach to Kabul, and which was a kind of
crow’s nest. “Across the summit or saddle of
the steep ascent the enemy had thrown up a
.pn +1 // Page 215.png
battery of field works, the fire of which could
rake the whole pass. On either side of the
Kotal, on two steep hills, were guns in battery,
which could throw a deadly cross-fire upon an
ascending force. The troops of the Amir occupied
the entire line of the upper hills for a distance
of four miles, and at either extremity were guns
in position to meet any flank attack that could
be made, and lofty and more inaccessible hills
covered their line of retreat.”
Roberts, determined that he should lose no
time in attacking the Afghan position, planned
that the Highlanders, the Gurkhas, and the
Punjab infantry, with some artillery, should make
a flank attack. The remainder of the force held
the attention of the enemy in the front. In
silence and secrecy the little party set off and
attacked at dawn. The type of country through
which they were passing was not unlike the
Highlands of Scotland when the snow is on the
ground. The sides of the hills were thick with
boulders and broken foliage, and during the
whole of the advance shots were fired from the
Afghans concealed behind trees and rocks upon
the hill-side.
As soon as the attack had developed the
guns came into action, and when the Afghans
saw their beasts stampeding and their tents on
fire, panic set in. Realising that an assault was
threatening their rear, and dreading that they
would be surrounded, they speedily evacuated
their position. It was a great success, and a
Seaforth triumph. For the first time the Afghans
.pn +1 // Page 216.png
had learned that respect for the British soldier
that Mr. Kipling has emphasised in the lines:
.pm verse-start
An’ when the war began, we chased the bold Afghan,
An’ we made the bloomin’ Ghazi for to flee, boys, O,
An’ we marched into Kabul, an’ we tuk the Bolan ‘Issar,
An’ we taught ’em to respec’ the British soldier.
.pm verse-end
In a despatch Roberts wrote: “I cannot
praise them too highly, the 72nd is a splendid
regiment.”
That night, after twenty hours of continual
marching upon very little food, the troops
bivouacked on the saddle of the hill along which
the enemy had retreated shortly before. On
the following morning it was realised what a
very great advantage had been gained in taking
this position, an achievement that could only
have been won by a high degree of discipline
and endurance. Roberts advanced to within four
miles of Kabul, and decided that as his force was
insufficient he must turn back to Fort Kurum.
He determined to leave a portion of his force
to hold the position of Peiwar Kotal during the
winter. On Christmas Eve news came that
the Amir had been deserted by his army and had
set out for St. Petersburg, proposing to place
himself in the hands of the Czar. Fate willed
it otherwise. He was shortly overcome by illness,
dying at Turkestan, and in the confused condition
of the country he had deserted it was
impossible to know what was hidden in the
future.
Shere Ali had been succeeded by his son,
.pn +1 // Page 217.png
Yakub Khan, who was as cunning as his father.
He accepted with engaging celerity all the
conditions that the British Government laid
down, but Roberts strongly suspected that the
time was not yet due when peace could be
made. The Afghans had not been beaten, and
despite public opinion, which, in its accustomed
ignorance of the real situation, implored the
Government to end the war, he advised most
urgently that the campaign to Kabul should
continue in the spring.
Soon after this Major Cavagnari was permitted
by the new Amir to proceed to Kabul as the
British agent. Roberts accompanied him a part
of the way, and when they said farewell he turned
back and shook hands with him once more. It
was in both their minds that in all probability
they would never meet again. And so time
went on, and not very long after rumours came
drifting southwards that there was trouble in
Kabul. It was afterwards related that Cavagnari
was warned by a native that he should flee.
“Never fear,” was his answer, “dogs that bark
don’t bite.” “This dog does bite,” said the
other. As representative of the British Government
it was unthinkable that he should consider
his own life. “They can only kill three or four
of us here,” he replied, “and our death will be
avenged.”
Already his doom was sealed. On September
2nd the Viceroy received a telegram, ‘All well.’
On September 5 Roberts heard that the Residency
in Kabul had been attacked by three regiments,
.pn +1 // Page 218.png
and that Cavagnari and his brother officers
were defending themselves as best they could.
Roberts was ordered to advance to Kabul,
accompanied by the troops that were stationed
at Kurum. Things moved quickly after that.
One telegram followed upon another, each bearing
worse news, and at last came the tragic
tidings that the members of the Embassy had
been murdered. With Sir Louis Cavagnari, the
Resident, were a handful of Englishmen and a
detachment of the famous Indian regiment, the
Guides. It was of that memorable scene that
Sir Henry Newbolt has written:
.pm verse-start
Sons of the Island race, wherever ye dwell,
Who speak of your fathers’ battles with lips that burn,
The deed of an alien legion hear me tell,
And think not shame from the hearts ye tamed to learn,
When succour shall fail, and the tide for a season turn,
To fight with a joyful courage, a passionate pride,
To die at the last as the Guides at Cabul died.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
Within twenty-four hours Roberts had left
Simla with 5000 men and orders to reach
Kabul, while the Amir was warned that the
British troops were on their way to avenge the
outrage.
The expedition, which included the Seaforths
and Gordons, reached Charasiah before the enemy
were in force. This place lies some twelve
miles from Kabul, but with ridge after ridge of
precipitous hill between. Upon this summit
the Afghans had placed their guns, while their
riflemen had taken cover behind the innumerable
.pn +1 // Page 219.png
boulders to await the advance of the British
force. Before Roberts lay the Afghan army thus
heavily entrenched, guarding Kabul. He must
storm the heights or retreat, and unless he made
his attack at once he must permit the enemy to
redouble their numbers.
Frequently in the Indian Mutiny the Sepoys,
taking for granted that an attack would be
made upon one flank or another, stationed their
guns accordingly. On this occasion the Afghans,
believing that Roberts would concentrate his
assault upon their left, laid themselves liable to
a surprise.
At the same time it would be difficult to name
an enemy more brave, more athletic, and more
resourceful than the Afghan, and the task before
the British was no enviable one.
Major White of the Gordon Highlanders—afterwards
famous as the defender of Ladysmith—went
to the attack, covered by the British guns,
while General Baker set out to carry the enemy’s
right. The Gordons started up the steep hill-side,
to be suddenly faced by a great number of
the enemy—at least twenty to one. They were
already exhausted by the severe toil up the hill,
and noting their hesitation, White snatched a
rifle from one of the men’s hands, shot down the
leader of the enemy, and as the Afghans wavered
the Gordons charged and took the position. It
was for this cool action at a critical moment that
Major White received the Victoria Cross. Meanwhile,
the Seaforths, together with the Gurkhas,
had borne the brunt of the attack in another
.pn +1 // Page 220.png
quarter. They struggled onward from ridge to
ridge, till at last the Afghans threw up the fight
and bolted. The battle of Charasiah was won,
but it had taken twelve hours’ hard fighting to win
it. Daybreak found Roberts on the march, and
the Amir, who had had the effrontery to send a
message of congratulation to the British commander
in the vain hope that it would make
things more agreeable when they met, was ready
to receive him when Kabul was reached. But
the trouble was not over.
The Afghans had taken up another strong
position outside Kabul, but in the darkness of
the succeeding night, upon the threat of an
attack from General Baker, they decided to
disperse, and, like all hillmen, vanished into
the mist before the dawn. The triumphal
entry of Roberts into Kabul was a splendid if
melancholy spectacle. He told the people that
the British Government had decided not to take
revenge for the murder of Cavagnari and his
colleagues, but that certain measures would be
enforced to ensure peace.
On the next day the Amir walked into
Roberts’s tent and stated that he wished to
resign. As Kabul could not be left without a
Governor, Roberts, on behalf of England, proclaimed
that Afghanistan would be taken over by
the British, and that the future of the people
would be decided after a conference.
As might be expected, the Afghans were by
no means satisfied with this ultimatum. A
guerilla warfare was directed against our troops,
.pn +1 // Page 221.png
and Kabul was besieged by such numbers that it
became daily more evident that the position would
be soon untenable. It was during these raids and
counter-raids that Lieutenant Dick-Cunyngham
of the Gordon Highlanders won his Victoria
Cross, and Corporal Sellar of the Seaforths was
also awarded the coveted honour.
Roberts now found himself in an exceedingly
difficult position, being ignorant of the number of
the enemy and unable to obtain much information
of their movements. As inactivity is often more
dangerous than defeat he resolved to lead an
attack from two different points, trusting that he
could surround the Afghans and win a decisive
victory. Had the two columns managed to
work in unison the British would have been rewarded
with a success. Unfortunately, there
was one false move, and, by a blunder, the British
force was outflanked and attacked by some
10,000 of the enemy. Compelled to retire in
frantic haste, the guns became jammed in the
narrow road, and the cavalry were unable to assist
them. In the midst of this dangerous situation
Roberts arrived to find that his strategy was
like enough to turn into a disaster. It was imperative,
were the situation to be retrieved, to
obtain infantry without delay. A messenger
was despatched to Kabul to call up the Seaforth
Highlanders. Would they arrive in time before
the British troops were annihilated? For there
were now less than 300 men and 4 guns confronting
10,000! To win time the English
cavalry employed the desperate resort of charging.
.pn +1 // Page 222.png
“Into a cloud of dust the Lancers disappeared
as they headed for the masses of the enemy,
and nothing could be seen for a few moments
of the fight. Then riderless horses came galloping
back, followed by scattered bodies of
troopers. They had been received with a
terrific fire which had killed many horses and
men, and on trying to force their way through
the enemy, had been surrounded and beaten
back by sheer force of numbers. Even among
Roberts and his staff the bullets fell thickly,
killing three or four horses and wounding
others.”
Just in the nick of time appeared the Seaforth
Highlanders, amidst the cheers of the Lancers.
“It was,” says an eye-witness, “literally touch
and go as to who could reach the village first,
the Highlanders or the Afghans, but our men
swept in and swarmed to the tops of the houses,
able to check the rush of the enemy, who streamed
down on the village like ants on a hill.”
In the meantime the other columns that had
hoped to join with that of General Baker heard
with alarm the mutter of distant artillery,
General Macpherson, who was in command,
realising that this probably spelt disaster, pushed
on with all speed and managed to come to
where the Highlanders were fighting at Dehmazung.
The British force was thus snatched
from a catastrophe that would have raised every
Afghan in the country.
After this unsatisfactory engagement Roberts
decided that he would take up position in Sherpur,
.pn +1 // Page 223.png
evacuating Kabul since the people there
were not to be depended on, and it would be a
difficult place to hold. The numbers of the
enemy had increased so largely that although
many points of vantage had been taken it was
decided that concentration within the limits of
Sherpur was inevitable. Though Roberts had
ample funds of ammunition he could not reassure
the Government that for the present any decisive
advance could be made. Trenches were hastily
thrown up and wire entanglements implanted,
and shortly afterwards the attack upon Sherpur
commenced. Before dawn the noise, “as if
hosts of devils had been let loose,” came rolling
out of the night, and through the darkness could
be dimly seen dense masses of the Afghans
rushing upon the British entrenchments, shouting
again and again their frenzied battle-cry of
“Allah-il-Allah!”
The Gordon Highlanders were one of the first
regiments to open fire upon the immense force
that threatened them. For three hours, despite
the terrible slaughter amongst their ranks, the
Afghans rushed again and again to the attack.
At last it was evident that a counter-move would
be necessary to break the enemy’s determination
to take Sherpur at all costs. Moving out the
cavalry with four guns, Roberts began to shell
the outlying villages. Distracted by this manœuvre,
the Afghans’ assault exhausted itself,
and the moment for a counter-attack arrived.
Suddenly the cavalry swept down on their
crowded masses, and in a moment the enemy
.pn +1 // Page 224.png
were in confused retreat. The end was come.
Once in disorder they scattered far and wide,
pursued by every available man and horse.
By evening all the neighbouring country was
perfectly silent, just as though no battle had ever
raged. The Afghans had vanished like smoke.
Kabul had been wrecked and plundered by
the enemy, but the next day Roberts re-entered
the city, made General Hills Governor, and, as
he himself said, “the present outlook was fairly
satisfactory.” But although the natives in the
immediate vicinity of the capital were crushed,
the tribes at Kandahar were in revolt. General
Burrows was forced to retreat to Kushk-i-Nakud,
while against him were marching 12,000
men. The result of this engagement was the
loss of the guns at Maiwand. It was essential
that this disaster should be wiped out, and
shortly afterwards Roberts, accompanied by
the Seaforths and the Gordon Highlanders,
set out on the famous march to Kandahar.
The news from Kandahar could not have been
worse. The Afghans had completely defeated
General Burrows’s brigade, and were now besieging
the English force under General Primrose
in Kandahar. It was imperative that Roberts
should relieve Primrose at once, and on the 8th
the memorable march commenced. The English
force numbered some 10,000 men, selected from
regiments of stamina and proved courage.
Only a military genius could have undertaken
a march without communication lines,
without heavy baggage, and with a hostile
.pn +1 // Page 225.png
army at the end of it. The prospect was not
favourable. They were faced by three hundred
miles of the enemy’s country, the inhabitants
of which would be only too ready to fall upon
them should an opportunity present itself, and
disaster would almost surely turn to annihilation.
It would take too long to deal with that eventful
march, and there was little of actual conflict
throughout. On the 26th of August there was
a sharp engagement, the Afghans being thrown
back; on the 31st the British came in sight of
Kandahar, where the Afghan leader was strongly
posted. They had arrived just in time. To the
beleaguered garrison they were like an army
dropped from heaven.
On September 1 the action began, and the
Seaforths and Gordons were sent forward to expel
the enemy from the village in which they were
entrenched. A fierce hand-to-hand engagement
ensued, and facing the thousands of the enemy
Major White shouted to the 92nd: “Highlanders,
will you follow me?” “Joyfully and with alacrity
the Highlanders responded to the call of their
favourite leader, and without pausing to recover
breath, drove the enemy from their entrenchments
at the point of the bayonet.” This was
the heaviest piece of hard fighting, and shortly
after the enemy wavered and finally broke, being
quickly dispersed by the cavalry. An undisciplined
army can seldom retire in good order;
once broken it is instantly confused, and in a
few minutes the Afghan troops were streaming
away towards the hills. Roberts, worn out by
.pn +1 // Page 226.png
fever and the anxieties and fatigues of the last
few weeks, did not spare himself during that
critical day, and when it was over he thanked
each regiment personally for their services. Right
well had the Highlanders supported him. He
had left India for a country seething with revolution,
and had carried the Peiwar Kotal. There
had followed the murder of Cavagnari, the quick
descent upon Kabul, those anxious days when
the British forces were besieged outside the city,
victory only to be followed by the memorable
march to Kandahar, and, last of all, after the
frightful fatigues and endurance, this decisive
action.
Roberts, in addressing the troops, reminded
them of the glory they had won. “You beat
them at Kabul,” he said, “and you have beaten
them at Kandahar, and now as you are about
to leave the country you may be assured that
the very last troops the Afghans ever want to
meet in the field are Scottish Highlanders and
Goorkhas.”
.if h
.il fn=i_202.jpg id=candahar w=60% alt='Battle scene'
.ca The Seaforths at Candahar
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: THE SEAFORTHS AT CANDAHAR]
.if-
“Never,” he wrote afterwards, “had commander
been better served, and I shall never
forget the feeling of sadness with which I said
good-bye to my men who had done so much for
me. I looked upon them all, native as well as
British, as my valued friends. Riding through
the Bolan Pass, I overtook men of the regiments
of the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force, marching
towards Sibi, thence to disperse to their respective
destinations. As I parted with each corps in
turn, its band played ‘Auld Lang Syne,’ and
.pn +1 // Page 229.png
I have never since heard the memory-stirring
air without its bringing before my eye the last
view I had of the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force.
I fancy myself crossing, and recrossing, the river
which winds through the Pass, I hear the martial
beat of the drums, and the plaintive music of the
pipes; and I see Riflemen and Goorkhas, Highlanders
and Sikhs, guns and horses, camels and
mules, with all the endless following of an Indian
army, winding through the narrow gorges or
over the interminable boulders.”
It was this vivid picture that came back to
the author upon that bleak November day of
1914, when the Indian soldiers, under the grey
English heaven, went winding through the rain-driven
streets of London. From far away sounded
the deep salutation of the guns, the tolling of a
bell, the wailing of the pipes. Thirty-four years
had passed, and once again “Riflemen and
Goorkhas, Highlanders and Sikhs, guns and
horses” passed like the ghosts of long ago, or
a dream of past achievement and work well
done before the falling of the night.
.sp 2
.ce
BATTLE HONOURS OF THE SEAFORTH HIGHLANDERS (ROSS-SHIRE BUFFS, THE DUKE OF ALBANY’S).
Carnatic, Mysore, Hindoostan; Cape of Good Hope,
1806; Maida, Java; South Africa, 1835; Sevastopol,
Persia, Koosh-ab, Lucknow, Central India, Peiwar Kotal,
Charasiah; Kabul, 1879; Kandahar, 1880; Afghanistan,
1878-1880; Egypt, 1882; Tel-el-Kebir, Chitral, Atbara,
Khartoum; South Africa, 1899-1902; Paardeberg.
.pn +1 // Page 230.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap20 title='20. Majuba Hill (1881)'
CHAPTER XX | MAJUBA HILL | (1881)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Up beyond the Inyati, where the frontier ranges rise,
Dark and lonely looms the mountain evil-starred;
Staring southward for the column, keeping vigil ’gainst surprise,
Standing grimly like a sentinel on guard.
But at night strange sounds re-echo, and dim phantoms rise from rest,
And the voices of dead captains call again;
Through the winds that wail and whimper round Majuba’s haunted crest,
That is peopled by the spirits of the slain.
John Sandes.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
It would take too long to deal at all circumspectly
with the history of South Africa. It was
the Portuguese who originally discovered the
Cape of Good Hope, and for long years they were
the controllers of the sea and of Africa. Many
years later other peoples began to colonise in
far-away lands, and Sir Francis Drake ran across
the Cape, but as yet there was no interest in the
place from a commercial point of view; the
coast was merely used as a suitable stopping-place.
Later on the Dutch—who were a great
sea people then—founded a colony where Cape
Town now stands. The French soon followed
them, particularly the Huguenots, who had fled
.pn +1 // Page 231.png
from their own country and were glad to
settle in Africa. Last of all, the British became
very anxious to found a settlement, and in 1795
Cape Colony was added to the British Empire
and the rule of the Dutch was ended. The
Dutch, who have always proved a courageous
and obstinate people, never ready to admit
the superiority of anybody else, in due course
made their way elsewhere, preferring hardship
to dependence.
After the wars of Napoleon the other Powers
in Europe recognised that the British were
supreme in South Africa, for which acknowledgment
the Government paid Holland a large
sum of money. From this time onwards troubles
came at intervals from the Kaffir wars to the
Zulu rising, from Majuba to that greatest of all
campaigns in South Africa—the Great Boer
War. From the beginning there were difficulties
between the natives and the Boers, the Kaffir
siding now with the English and now with the
Boers, but usually against the latter. In the
Kaffir campaigns the Highlanders took part, but
they are not of sufficient importance to demand
our attention.
There is one expedition, however, that has a
memorable place in our history. Some men of
the 2nd Battalion of the Black Watch, the 91st
Argyllshire Highlanders, and the Highland Light
Infantry were, in 1852, shipped for South Africa
to take part in the campaign against the Kaffirs.
They sailed upon the Birkenhead, and one dark
night the ship went to pieces at a place called
.pn +1 // Page 232.png
Danger Point. So swift and sudden was the
shock that only a certain number of the boats
could be lowered, and had they all been used
there was quite an inadequate number for both
the troops and the passengers. In perfect order
the soldiers formed up in companies, and the
women and children were lowered over the side.
The horses were loosed and given a last chance
for their lives. Then the boats put off and
the Birkenhead was left to her fate. As the
dawn was breaking, with those silent figures as
steady as on parade, the Birkenhead disappeared,
and four hundred British soldiers went to their
death. That memorable scene has never been
forgotten, and should be recalled as one of the
most honourable and moving incidents in the
history of the Highland regiments.
Subsequent to the melancholy end of the
Birkenhead, the Boers had made their Great Trek,
and the trouble with Dingaan, the Zulu chief,
had resulted in the massacre of their comrades.
With the discovery of gold the whole aspect
of South Africa changed. The country was
suddenly inundated with all the riff-raff of
Europe. The “gold rush” wrought more harm
than can ever be fully estimated. Strife and
trouble arose on every side. The Boers, who
perpetually tyrannised over the natives, also
attempted to tyrannise over the British. At
last, on the 12th of April 1877, the South African
Republic was taken over by the English, and
the Union Jack run up at Pretoria. Although
the Boers were very much aggrieved, they were
.pn +1 // Page 233.png
quite unable to protect their rights in the matter,
as the country was full of British troops.
A Zulu war broke out under Cetewayo, in
which the Transvaal Boers would take no part,
leaving the British to fend for themselves as
best they could. Events followed hard upon
each other. The terrible disaster of Isandlwana,
where the British forces were cut off and suffered
a loss of 800 men, sent a thrill through the
whole of South Africa. Within a few hours there
followed the heroic defence of Rorke’s Drift,
when a handful of men kept 3000 Zulus at arm’s
length for many hours. In 1879 the 91st Highlanders
left for Zululand, to take their share in
the defeat of the Zulus at the battle of Ulundi
and the capture of Cetewayo.
.sp 2
In the meantime the dissatisfaction of the
Boers had in no way diminished. Desiring to
regain their freedom, they made preparations
for doing so. They elected Kruger, Joubert, and
Pretorius as their leaders, and, on the 16th of
December 1880, raised the flag of the Republic at
Heidelburg, their new capital. War was declared,
and in January 1881 the British suffered a reverse
at Laing’s Nek, where they remained strongly
posted. Laing’s Nek was very close to a kopje
that has passed into our history as Majuba
Hill.
We know a great deal more about the Boers
now than we did then. We did not realise at
that time that they were a clever and courageous
foe, linking their intimate knowledge of the
.pn +1 // Page 234.png
country with a sure and deadly marksmanship.
The British troops in South Africa were quite
inadequate in numbers to deal with such a
situation. The 92nd Gordon Highlanders, with
their famous march to Kandahar still vivid in
the public mind, were hurried to reinforce the
troops under General Sir George Colley at Prospect
Hill.
General Colley had been instructed by Sir
Evelyn Wood that he must not attempt an
advance for the present. Despite this order he
resolved to occupy Majuba Hill by night, and hold
what appeared to be a superior position. Accordingly,
at half-past eight on the evening of February
25, the little party, composed of 550 men of the
Gordons and a party of the Naval Brigade,
carrying 70 rounds of ammunition and three days’
rations but no water, began their ascent of Majuba
Hill. At the base they left a detachment to
guard their lines of communications, thus reducing
the force to some 350 men. So far as Colley’s
plan was concerned it was entirely successful.
Just before the dawn broke the British were in
possession of the summit, while far beneath them
they could see the Boer camp beginning to stir
for the day.
General White, V.C., who was then Senior
Major of the Gordons, has described the situation
in the regimental records. “The approaches,”
he says, “to the brow below were nearly all
concealed from the view of the defenders on the
top. The slope of the hill leading up to the brow
is broken by natural terraces, which run nearly
.pn +1 // Page 235.png
round the hill, and which afford an enemy, under
cover of his firing parties placed for the purpose,
an opportunity of collecting in force on any point,
and to circuit round the hill without coming
under the fire, or even the observation of the
defenders.”
To put it quite simply, the summit of the hill
was like a saucer, while instead of a smooth slope
down which the defenders could pick off the
ascending foe, the cover was so ample that it was
possible for the Boers to shoot the British against
the sky-line without exposing themselves.
General Colley had expressed no deeper design
than his wish that the men should hold the hill
for three days. He made no preparations for
the defence, he forbade the troops to entrench
themselves, and so the day dawned, and the
Boers awakened to the fact that Majuba Hill
was occupied by the British. What followed is
soon told. A storming party crept up the face
of the hill, though quite out of sight of the
British, and when Lieutenant Ian Hamilton of
the Gordons approached General Colley, begging
him to let them entrench themselves or charge,
he merely repeated the fateful words, “Hold
the place for three days.” The Boers, firing
against the sky-line, opened the engagement.
It was simply a question of time until the little
garrison were picked off man by man. Too late
was it when Colley, at last thoroughly alive
to the danger, running hither and thither,
attempted to entrench his men. Still he refused
to let the Gordons charge, and the Boers contented
.pn +1 // Page 236.png
themselves for some time in reducing the
number of the defenders. At last, growing contemptuous
of such warfare, they attempted to
finish the business and carry the position by
assault. Undaunted, but sick at heart, the Gordons
drove them back at the point of the bayonet.
The end was near at hand. One hundred and
fifty of the Highlanders stood shoulder to shoulder,
determined to hold out to the last. Sir George
Colley, shot through the head, fell in the hour of
his deep humiliation. When at last the belated
order was given to retreat, 200 men of that little
force of 350 lay dead or wounded, and only
60 or 70 came out of the action. Lieutenant
Ian Hamilton, who was later on to uphold the
glory of the British arms against the Boers, was
so badly wounded that when the enemy came to
look at him they said, “You will probably die,
you may go.”
It had been little less than a massacre. “The
top of Majuba,” says Colonel M’Bean, “was a
horrid sight. The first thing I saw was a long
row of dead men—some 40 or 50 of them. There
were also numbers of wounded men lying about,
most of them frightfully wounded. I went
towards the edge of the hill where so many of
the 92nd had been killed.... The dead were
all shot above the breast, in some men’s heads
I counted five and six bullet wounds.”
It is now admitted that under the circumstances,
and under the conditions of the defence,
the disaster could not have been prevented.
There was only one gleam in the encompassing
.pn +1 // Page 237.png
gloom—to the last the British had fought without
quailing.
.pm verse-start
He knows no tears who in the van
And foremost fight
Met death as should an Englishman
Upon Majuba’s Height.
.pm verse-end
Whether foolishly or not cannot be discussed
here, the British Government instructed Sir
Evelyn Wood to come to terms at all costs, and
the truce that resulted gave the Transvaal into
Boer hands, with Mr. Kruger as President. We
see now how unwise it was to permit this disgrace
and humiliation to the British arms and the
British name. Long years of quarrelling between
the Boer colonists and those who acknowledged
the sovereignty of England, were to make South
Africa a place of miserable dissension. The easy
success over a few hundred trapped British soldiers
was magnified, in the eyes of the more ignorant
Boers, into a victory over the whole English race,
and until the Great War of 1899-1902 no occasion
was ever let slip on which the name of ‘Majuba’
could be recalled and emphasised.
.pn +1 // Page 238.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap21 title='21. With The Highland Brigade at Tel-El-Kebir (1882)'
CHAPTER XXI | WITH THE HIGHLAND BRIGADE AT TEL-EL-KEBIR | (1882)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Where ha’e ye been a’ the day,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie?
Saw ye him that’s far away,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie?
On his head a bonnet blue,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie;
Tartan plaid and Highland trews,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie?
Regimental March.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
Previous to 1882 Egypt had for many years been
under the control of England and France, but
neither of these Powers had actually occupied
the country. In 1882, owing to the Nationalist
Movement under Arabi Bey, which endangered
the lives and property of Europeans, these two
Powers decided that some steps must be taken
to ensure the security of the white population.
Shortly after, France agreed to leave the matter
in the hands of the English, and the British
fleet bombarded Arabi’s position at Alexandria,
while the English army under Sir Garnet Wolseley
landed upon the coast to crush the Egyptian
forces. This action was to end in the English
occupation of Egypt, which has lasted until
.pn +1 // Page 239.png
to-day. The principal reason for acting so quickly
and with such determination was the danger
that would ensue should the control of the Suez
Canal fall into the hands of a hostile Power. The
Khedive, who was a vassal of the Sultan, possessed
at this time a mere shadow of authority, and after
the war an English official was appointed to
control his policy.
Sir Garnet Wolseley having decided to give the
enemy no warning of his advance upon Cairo,
planned to descend upon the city from Ismailia,
and not from Alexandria as they expected. The
position of Tel-el-Kebir was destined to become
the scene of the final battle before the march
upon Cairo.
The British army included the Grenadiers
and Coldstreams, some cavalry and artillery, and
the Highland Brigade, formed of the Black Watch,
the Camerons, the Gordons, and the Highland
Light Infantry. It is also of interest to note
that with the force was a major of Egyptian
cavalry called Herbert Kitchener.
Following the landing in Egypt, the army
marched across the desert in the hope of surprising
the enemy. The bombardment of Aboukir took
place, and shortly afterwards the enemy were repulsed
from Magfar. The British forces now concentrated
at Kassassin, where Wolseley decided
that the final conflict must be forced. They were
now very near to the enemy’s position, and on the
night of the 12th of September were only some
five miles distant from Tel-el-Kebir, where the
Egyptians were heavily entrenched.
.pn +1 // Page 240.png
Sir Garnet Wolseley, having studied the position
for several days, learned that the Egyptian
pickets did not come beyond their defences at
night. This led him to believe that a swift
night assault might carry their position without
further trouble. There were, however, several
considerations that might militate against the
success of a night attack. For one thing it
was most essential that the enemy should be so
thoroughly dispersed that the cavalry could
advance without delay upon Cairo. There was
also the danger that, in the darkness, the soldiers
would fire upon each other, and to prevent such
a calamity he placed the infantry at each end
of the line and the artillery in the centre.
The troops set out in complete silence, no
smoking or even the giving of orders being permitted.
It was a moonless night, and, careful
as they were, the Highland Brigade at one period
lost their direction, and a new formation delayed
the advance.
About an hour before sunrise the Highlanders
found themselves beneath the parapet
of the enemy’s position, and the end of the
hazardous march was reached. Sir Archibald
Alison, who commanded the Highland Brigade,
has written: “The Brigade formed for the march
in the order in which it was to attack—two lines
two deep. The rifles were unloaded, the bayonets
unfixed, and the men warned that only two
signals would be given—a word to ‘Fix bayonets,’
a bugle sound of ‘To storm.’ I never felt
anything so solemn as that night march, nor do
.pn +1 // Page 241.png
I believe that any one who was in it will ever
forget it. No light but a faint star; no sound
but the slow, measured tread of men on the
desert sand. Just as the first tinge of light
appeared in the east a few rifle shots fired out
of the darkness showed that the enemy’s outposts
were reached. The sharp click of the bayonets
then answered the word, ‘To fix’—a few
minutes more of deep silence, and then a blaze
of musketry flashed across our front, and passed
far away to each flank, by the light of which
we saw the swarthy faces of the Egyptians,
surmounted by their red tarbooshes, lining the
dark rampart before us. I never felt such a
relief in my life. I knew then that Wolseley’s
star was bright, that the dangerous zone of fire
had been passed in the darkness, that all had
come now to depend upon a hand-to-hand
struggle.”
The Highlanders were some hundred and fifty
yards from the Egyptian entrenchments, which
were 6 feet high and 4 feet deep. Suddenly
through the long night silence a bugle rang out,
and with a cheer the Highland Brigade broke
into a charge. Some 200 men fell before they
reached the parapet, the losses being increased
before they scaled the entrenchments. Alison
had written that he never saw men fight more
steadily than the Egyptian soldiers, they rallied
every foot of the way. “At this time,” he says,
“it was a noble sight to see the Gordon and
Cameron Highlanders—now mingled together in
the confusion of the fight, their young officers
.pn +1 // Page 242.png
leading with waving swords, their pipes screaming,
and that proud smile on the lips and that bright
gleam in the eyes of the men which you see only
in the hour of successful battle.”
It is said Donald Cameron of the Camerons
was “the first man to mount the trenches, and
the second man to fall.” A minute, and whole
companies of men were swarming and pouring
like waves of the sea over the Egyptian defences,
and rushing down upon their defenders. Although
taken by surprise the enemy made a stubborn
fight, but after half an hour’s fierce conflict the
battle of Tel-el-Kebir was over, and the morning
sun rose to pour its rays down upon the flying
Egyptian army. Without delay Sir Garnet
Wolseley pushed forward the cavalry to advance
upon Cairo. Thus Arabi was prevented either
from arresting the retreat or sacking the city,
and realising that there was no further hope in
resistance to the British arms he surrendered his
sword, and the rebellion was over.
It had been a swift action, but it would be
wrong either to underrate the discipline and
bravery of the Egyptian troops or to imagine
that it was an easy victory. As General Hamley
has written in the Nineteenth Century: “The
Scottish people may be satisfied with the bearing
of those who represented them in the land of the
Pharaohs. No doubt any very good troops, feeling
that they were willing, would have accomplished
the final advance; but what appear to
me exceptional are: First, the order and discipline
which marked that march by night
.pn +1 // Page 243.png
through the desert; and, secondly, the readiness
with which the men sprang forward to storm
the works. The influence of the march had
been altogether of a depressing kind—the dead
silence, the deep gloom, the funereal pace, the
unknown obstacles, and enemy. They did not
know what was in front, but neither did they
stop to consider. There was not the slightest
sign that the enemy was surprised—none of the
clamour, shouts, or random firing which would
have attended a sudden call to arms. Even very
good troops at the end of that march might
have paused when suddenly greeted by that
burst of fire, and none but exceptionally good
ones could have accomplished the feats I have
mentioned.”
It is worth while repeating these words of
General Hamley’s, because in a later chapter we
shall have to deal with that other memorable
night march at Magersfontein. However melancholy
the story, it serves to illustrate that when
a night attack does not prove a surprise it becomes
nothing less than a calamity.
.pn +1 // Page 244.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap22 title='22. From El-Teb to Omdurman (1884-1898)'
CHAPTER XXII | FROM EL-TEB TO OMDURMAN | (1884-1898)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Vain is the dream! However Hope may rave,
He perished with the folk he could not save.
And though none surely told us he is dead,
And though perchance another in his stead,
Another, not less brave, when all was done,
Had fled unto the southward and the sun,
Had urged a way by force, or won by guile
To streams remotest of the secret Nile,
Had raised an army of the Desert men,
And, waiting for his hour, had turned again
And fallen on that False Prophet, yet we know
Gordon is dead, and these things are not so!
Nay, not for England’s cause, nor to restore
Her trampled flag—for he loved Honour more—
Nay, not for Life, Revenge, or Victory,
Would he have fled, whose hour had dawned to die.
The White Pasha, Andrew Lang.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
Considerably before the events of the last
chapter, Sir Samuel Baker, the English explorer,
had travelled through the unknown regions of
the Upper Nile, and found that the country was
almost entirely devoted to the slave-trade. An
effort was made to improve conditions there.
The Khedive for a time asserted his authority
over these regions, two Englishmen being appointed
in succession as his governors, the first
Sir Samuel Baker himself, and the second Charles
.pn +1 // Page 245.png
Gordon. For many years Gordon, who had
come fresh from China, struggled to free the
natives from the slave-traders, but his labours
were rendered useless by the accession of a worthless
Khedive. Shortly afterwards he returned
to England, and the Soudan relapsed into its old
corruption. Then, in 1882, appeared one of
those strange dramatic figures that in the East
spring into prominence and disappear as abruptly—a
fanatic named Mohammed Ahmed, proclaiming
himself as Mahdi, and calling to his standard
all true Mahommedans.
The Arabs have ever been ready to follow the
sword, and very soon 6000 troops under Yusef
Pasha were almost annihilated. Swiftly one
Egyptian garrison fell after another. The Mahdi
advanced towards the north, and cut to pieces
an Egyptian army under Colonel Hicks. The
word passed from village to village, from mosque
to mosque, from one solitary encampment to
another that the Mahdi had indeed come at last,
and with the defeat of Hicks’s army not only
was Khartoum in hourly peril, but Cairo itself
was threatened.
Fortunately, the Arab—like the Highlander
of old—is satisfied with the booty in hand, and
very much prefers to see it safely put away
before he takes to the field again in search of
more. Such practical considerations were a check
to the Mahdi’s religious zeal, and permitted
England to collect her strength—or one should
say such strength as lay to her hand; for at this
time public interest in Egypt was very luke-warm.
.pn +1 // Page 246.png
The result was the tragic page in history
that closed with the death of Gordon in Khartoum.
There was one man in Egypt who was later
on both to avenge Gordon and to subdue the
Soudan, but he as yet was unknown. The name
of this young man was Kitchener, and the war
correspondent, Mr. John Macdonald, has given
the following little sketch of the future victor of
Omdurman as he was in the year 1883—the
year in which the Mahdi renewed his activities.
It is not without interest at the present time.
“Taylor,” he writes, “had invited me the night
before to accompany him and his friend and
witness the operation which they were both to
supervise. A tall, slim, thin-faced, slightly stooping
figure in long boots, ‘cut-away’ dark morning-coat
and Egyptian fez, somewhat tilted over his
eyes—such, as I remember him, was the young
soldier who was destined to fulfil Gordon’s task
of ‘smashing the Mahdi.’ ‘He’s quiet,’ Taylor
whispered to me as we were getting ready; ‘that’s
his way.’ And, again, with characteristic jerk
of the head, ‘He’s clever.’ And so, in the raw,
greyish early morning of January 8, 1883, the
three of us drove in our dingy rattle-trap over
the white dusty road Nilewards to meet the
fellah cavaliers. Taylor did most of the talking.
Kitchener expressed himself in an occasional nod
or monosyllable.
“At the barracks we found some forty men
waiting. I remember Kitchener’s gaze at the
awkward, slipshod group as he took his position
in the centre of a circular space round which the
.pn +1 // Page 247.png
riders were to show their paces. ‘We begin with
the officers,’ said Taylor turning to me; ‘we shall
train them first, then put them to drill the
troopers. We have no troopers just yet, though
we have 440 horses ready for them.’
“And now began the selection of the fellah
officers. They were to be tested in horsemanship.
The first batch were ordered to mount. Round
they went, Indian file, Kitchener, like a circus-master
standing in the centre. Had he flourished
a long whip he might have passed for a show-master
at a rehearsal. Neither audible nor
visible sign did he give of any feeling roused in
him by a performance most disappointing and
sometimes ridiculous. His hands buried in his
trousers pockets, he quietly watched the emergence
of the least unfit. In half an hour or so
the first native officers of the fellah cavalry were
chosen. It was then that Kitchener made his
longest speech, ‘We’ll have to drive it into those
fellows,’ he muttered, as if thinking aloud.”
The importance of this extract is the glimpse
it gives of the material that was the hope of
Egypt.
That was the type of man that Kitchener took
in hand, and that was the type of man who was
to uphold the supremacy of the British arms
against the fanatic forces of the Mahdi.
But between 1883 and Omdurman there was
more than spade work—there was grim tragedy
and humiliating defeat. In August 1883, when
the Mahdi was again on the war-path, General
Baker despatched native reinforcements from
.pn +1 // Page 248.png
Cairo in the vain hope that they would be
able to withstand the advance of the Arabs.
On February 4, 1884, Baker’s poorly trained
Egyptians encountered the Sudanese, and were
practically annihilated. This disaster, following
so quickly upon the rout of Hicks’s troops,
awakened the Government at home to the
fact that something must be done. Sir Gerald
Graham was ordered to proceed with a force
of 4000 British troops to Suakin. With his
force were the 1st Battalion of the Gordon Highlanders
and the Black Watch. On the 29th of
February the British troops set out upon the
road over which Baker himself had passed,
and came in touch with the enemy at El-Teb.
The Arabs were defended to some extent with
entrenchments, and for an hour maintained a
steady fire. Then, having grown confident by
their easily-won victories over Egyptian troops,
the Sudanese hurled themselves at the Highlanders,
shaking their long spears, and shouting
their battle-cries. They were met by the
solid unbreakable square of the 42nd. Checked
and demoralised, their advance was quickly
turned into a rout. No sooner did the enemy
waver than the cavalry were let loose, and the
engagement at El-Teb was turned into a signal
success.
On the 13th of March 1884 was fought the
battle of Tamai, in which the Black Watch took
a leading part. The Highlanders were ordered
to charge at the enemy in front, but did not
perceive that on their right lay a deep nullah or
.pn +1 // Page 249.png
piece of hidden ground. No sooner was their
flank exposed than hosts of the enemy leapt to
their feet and broke upon them. The 42nd were
caught between two fires and surrounded. The
Naval Brigade, forced back, were compelled to
surrender their guns. It became a hand-to-hand
struggle, each man fighting for himself.
In the words of Kipling:
.pm verse-start
We took our chanst among the Kyber ‘ills,
The Boers knocked us silly at a mile,
The Burman give us Irriwaddy chills,
An’ a Zulu impi dished us up in style:
But all we ever got from such as they
Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swaller;
We ‘eld our bloomin’ own, the papers say,
But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us ‘oller.
Then ‘ere’s to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an’ the missis an’ the kid;
Our orders was to break you, an’ of course we went an’ did.
We sloshed you with Martinis, an’ it wasn’t ‘ardly fair;
But for all the odds again’ you, Fuzzy-Wuz, you broke the square.
.pm verse-end
For a moment it seemed as though Baker’s
disaster was to be repeated. But the British regulars
were very unlike the undisciplined Egyptians.
“The spectacle,” wrote a war correspondent, “did
not so much terrify as exercise a weird, terrible
fascination. I do not suppose that either I or any
one else who witnessed it will often again see its
equal for magnificence. Though retreating, our
men literally mowed down their assailants. In
the smoke and dust of the battle, amid the bright
gleam of their myriad spearheads, the semi-nude,
.pn +1 // Page 250.png
brown-skinned, black, shaggy-haired warriors were
falling down in scores. Of all the savage races of
the world none are more desperately brave than
the Soudan Arabs, who were breaking upon our
ranks like a tempestuous sea. At last the
pressure of the front upon the rear became so
great that those of us who were mounted were
for a few moments too tightly wedged together
to be able to move; but we felt the collapse
was only temporary.”
It was touch and go, but the undismayed
veterans of the Black Watch and those other
troops who formed the British force were bound,
sooner or later, to enforce their superiority.
Presently, shoulder to shoulder, forming where
they could into squares, the 42nd and 65th
began to advance. For a moment the conflict
was in suspense, then the crisis had passed. The
victory was won.
Unhappily, the British Government took no advantage
of Graham’s successes, and decided upon
the evacuation of the Soudan. Under these circumstances
the only thing left to do was to ensure
the safety of the civilians in the various towns
more or less under European control. There was
one man above all others who was competent to
deal with the exigencies of the situation, and that
was General Gordon. He was begged by the
Government to leave for Egypt to carry out
this mission. We must not overlook, in justice to
the Government, that neither they nor probably
Gordon himself appreciated the strength of the
revolutionary movement in the Soudan, so that
.pn +1 // Page 251.png
when he arrived at Khartoum in February 1884
he was dismayed to find it was exceedingly
likely that he would be isolated there, if not
actually besieged by the enemy. Accordingly, he
advised the Government to make good the advantage
gained by Sir Gerald Graham, and ensure
a lasting peace in the Soudan. But the Government
refused to be interested in the problem.
Then Gordon communicated with the country,
stating that he had provisions for only five months.
Lord Granville, without dealing with the situation
in any way, instructed him to leave Khartoum as
best he could, and it was not until the end of March
that the grave danger to Gordon was realised.
Lord Wolseley, voicing the sympathies of the
English people, begged the Government to do
something to save a man whom they had sent
out to represent the country.
Then and only then, Mr. Gladstone, who had
placed every possible obstacle in the path of action,
permitted the British troops to set out for Egypt,
with Wolseley in command. And so there embarked
that melancholy expedition, against which
time and ill-luck waged a remorseless warfare—an
expedition that was to reach Khartoum two days
after the murder of Gordon.
Under Major-General Earle the Black Watch
came up the Nile, while Sir Charles Wilson was
heading for Khartoum. On the 10th of February
Earle’s columns came into conflict with the enemy
at Kirbekan, when, to quote Wolseley’s despatch,
“The Black Watch advanced over rocks and
broken ground upon the koppies, and after having
.pn +1 // Page 252.png
by their fire in the coolest manner driven off a
rush of the enemy, stormed the position under a
heavy fire.”
The Arabs put up, as always, a desperate
resistance; they hurled one attack after another
upon the guns, but always to be met with a
devastating fire. The Black Watch in a later
stage in the battle attempted to cut off the
retreat of the enemy. Having placed them in
an ambuscade, General Earle prepared for a
decisive action. “For this assault,” says Charles
Lowe, “the order was about to be given, when a
body of the Arabs, one of whom bore a banner,
the rest being armed with swords and spears,
boldly rushed down from the heights in front,
and charged towards the nearest companies of
the Black Watch, under Colonel Green. The
Highlanders, though standing in line as at
Balaclava, never budged, but met their assailants
with such a withering fire that those who were
not mown down by the bullets of the Martini-Henrys
turned and fled towards the river.”
It was the last effort of the Arabs, and a
counter-attack now began. With ‘The Campbells
are comin’’ the 42nd rushed up the hill-side,
and the battle was soon over. Unfortunately,
at the conclusion, General Earle was killed by
one of the fugitives.
The Gordons took part in the arduous advance
up the Nile to Abu Hamid, and when they reached
that place news came of the death of Gordon. The
tragic words ‘Too late!’ echoed throughout Egypt
and the world. To those who had strained every
.pn +1 // Page 253.png
nerve to reach him the news was bitter indeed.
The expedition had failed, and there was
nothing for it but to return. The water in the
Nile was falling, and the advance must needs be
stopped.
The Government, now roused to action and
anxious to satisfy the indignation of the public,
decided that the Mahdi must be crushed; but
the matter was long delayed, and it was many
years before Kitchener came to avenge the
murder of a great Scotsman, and one of the
most memorable figures of the last century.
The failure of the Gordon Relief Expedition
encouraged the Mahdi in the belief that his
success was due to the direct guidance of God.
In his own mind, at least, he had driven the
British home again, and although his death
occurred in 1885, it in no way concluded the
threatening of Egypt. There were many contests
between the Dervishes and the Egyptian troops,
who, led by British officers, were now able to hold
their own. The labours of Kitchener were already
beginning to bear fruit.
In August 1886 he was appointed Governor
of Suakin, and instantly set about fortifying
the place against the Dervishes. Various
engagements followed during the forthcoming
years, and the struggle with the Mahdi’s forces
went on until the campaign opened which was
to end in the final and crushing victory of
Omdurman. It must not be thought that this
success was simply a success of arms; there had
been many of those in the past. It was rather
.pn +1 // Page 254.png
the culminating and final achievement in a long
and silent campaign extending over many
years, opening, as we have seen, with the first
rather dismal efforts at training the Egyptians,
passing on to that wonderful system of railways
which crossed over five hundred miles of bare
desert, to reach its appointed end in the fall of
Omdurman and Mahdism.
It had taken sixteen years to make the Anglo-Egyptian
army, and by the time the battle of
Omdurman was fought it numbered 18,000 men,
with 140 English officers.
From 1888 to 1892 Kitchener was Adjutant-General
of the Egyptian Army; in 1892 he
became Sirdar. At last, in 1894, he seized his
opportunity. There was at this time a new
Khedive—a young man who showed signs of
resisting or criticising British rule. Without
hesitation the Sirdar showed him very clearly
that this would be unwise behaviour. He followed
up his action by pushing forward his railways,
mile by mile, towards Omdurman, the city of the
Khalifa. It was impossible for the latter to
surrender the city, for such an action would
proclaim throughout the Soudan that the Mahdi
was little better than a fugitive. The dawn
of peace was already breaking. Omdurman was
within striking distance.
The Dongola Expedition took place in 1896,
resulting in the capture of Dongola and the
dispersal of the Arabs in that quarter. In 1897
the Government at last came to a practical
decision, and determined to crush for ever
.pn +1 // Page 255.png
the power of the Khalifa, and for that purpose
despatched an army in which were included the
Seaforth Highlanders and the Camerons. It was
no unexpected event for Kitchener. More truly
was it the last mile of the journey. His organisation
was complete, his troops were efficient, he
could take his own time, and the result was certain.
The Khalifa’s army was roughly estimated at
60,000 men, and divided into one division of
40,000 at Omdurman and another of 20,000 at
Metammeh. The Sirdar, accompanied by General
Gatacre and General Sir Archibald Hunter, was in
command of a force of some 12,000 men perfectly
equipped, and with some eight squadrons of
Egyptian cavalry. The Camerons and Seaforths
were brigaded under General Gatacre.
Mahmoud, who commanded the Khalifa’s
troops at Metammeh, left that place and marched
towards the River Atbara, where he settled down
in a zeriba, and calmly awaited the British
advance. This was a new turn in Dervish
tactics; formerly they had been only too ready
to rush upon the British bayonet. But Mahmoud
had learnt with native shrewdness the foolishness
of throwing men upon the British square. He
also knew who best could play a waiting game.
It was imperative that Kitchener should act,
and act quickly, and so, on the night of April 7
he advanced to open the conflict. As the late
G. W. Steevens has so graphically written: “All
England and all Egypt and the flower of the
black lands beyond, Birmingham and the West
Highlands, the half-regenerated children of the
.pn +1 // Page 256.png
earth’s earliest civilisation, and grinning savages
from the uttermost swamps of Equatoria, muscle
and machinery, lord and larrikin, Balliol and
Board School, the Sirdar’s brain and the camel’s
back—all welded into one, the awful war machine
went forward into action.”
The Dervish zeriba lay some twenty miles
distant. At about a quarter to four in the
morning the advance guard came in sight of
the enemy, and instantly the British force
halted. It was, indeed, a formidable position
that faced them. Mahmoud had studied the
lie of the ground very carefully, and sheltered
himself from artillery fire by a ridge of rising
country. All around his camp was knotted and
twisted together an entanglement of desert thorn
some 10 feet high, and as much as 20 feet broad
in some places. Behind these were trenches
and bomb-proof shelters. Without the help of
heavy artillery a frontal attack was the only
possible way to gain the victory. And so in two
ranks the British began their advance on the
zeriba, headed by the Camerons and the Seaforth
Highlanders. It has been said that General
Gatacre was the first man to reach the formidable
entanglement of desert thorn. At his heels
came the Camerons, who, forcing a way through,
managed to enter the zeriba. One of their
pipers, standing upon a height of earth, began to
play ‘The March of the Cameron Men,’ and fell
almost at once, riddled with bullets. In the fierce
conflict that followed none fought more staunchly
than Lewis’s half brigade of Egyptians. That
.pn +1 // Page 257.png
in itself was worth as much as half a dozen minor
victories.
The fire of the Dervishes from their trenches
rained thick and fast upon the Highlanders as
they came through the break in the hedges,
but when they had gained a real foothold inside
the zeriba, the Dervishes lost heart, and made
away towards the Atbara River. The fine
strategy of Kitchener forcing an engagement
at this point was now apparent. The enemy
were faced with thirty miles of waterless desert,
at the end of which it was probable they
would encounter the British gunboats. It was
more than a victory in arms; it struck the first
devastating blow at the power of the Khalifa.
In answer to Kitchener’s despatch, Queen
Victoria replied: “Anxious to know how the
wounded British and Egyptians are going on.
Am proud of the gallantry of my soldiers. So
glad my Cameron Highlanders should have been
amongst them.”
A writer in Blackwood’s Magazine relates the
following striking incident, doubly pregnant with
meaning to-day. “After Atbara,” he says, “and
as we rode through the ‘dem,’ Lord Cecil joined
us, and presently K. pulled up among the charred
corpses on the burning ground to make some
enquiries. Cecil made a grimace and pointed
to the ground; it was strewn with Dervish shells
lying about under our horses’ hoofs and the hoofs
of the chief’s horse, with the grass on fire all
around them. Neither of us spoke, but Kismet,
destiny, or whatever it is that sits behind the
.pn +1 // Page 258.png
crupper, impelled K. to move on, and a few
minutes later a column of smoke shot up into
the air—the shells had exploded. But K. had
passed on—destiny had need of him still.”
In July 1898 began the advance on Omdurman,
in which the Camerons and Seaforths took
part. The battle was fought on September 2nd.
The Khalifa’s army numbered some 50,000 men,
and the fight that was to end in the utter defeat
of Mahdism extended over five hours. The Highlanders
did not take as prominent a part here
as at Atbara, and the chief battle honours lie
with Brigadier-General Hector Macdonald, whose
Soudanese troops were handled with much brilliancy,
and the 21st Lancers, the glory of whose
charge rang throughout England and the Empire.
The Dervishes, trusting to their overwhelming
superiority in numbers, advanced in dense hordes
against the British lines, and at this point of the
engagement the Camerons and Seaforths withstood
the fury of the opening attack with magnificent
steadiness. The enemy were met with a
murderous fire; whole lines and ranks were simply
mown down by our shrapnel: attack upon attack
was launched with reckless gallantry, always to be
repulsed.
In one portion of this campaign it has been
related that for two hours a company of the
Seaforths were engaged with a great number of
the Dervishes, and as their ammunition had run
short, they were compelled to use the bayonet.
“Not one shot was fired,” says an eye-witness,
“for two hours, and yet the greatest and most
.pn +1 // Page 259.png
serious losses amongst the enemy occurred during
the time when the Seaforths were getting in
with the bayonet.” At Omdurman, in that great
charge of the Dervishes, it became impossible to
check them altogether, and so heavy was the
fire that the rifles of the Cameron Highlanders
became too hot to hold. To avert a repulse the
curious spectacle was seen of men carrying and
exchanging rifles with the reserve lines behind.
The stand made by the Dervishes has earned
the praise of G. W. Steevens, who witnessed it.
“Our men,” he says, “were perfect, but the
Dervishes were superb—beyond perfection. It
was their largest, best, and bravest army that
ever fought against us for Mahdism, and it died
worthily of the huge empire that Mahdism won
and kept so long.” They lost, roughly, 11,000
men killed with 16,000 wounded; and with the
battle of Omdurman came the end of the long
struggle in the Soudan, and not only that, but the
avenging of the death of Gordon.
The losses amongst the two Highland regiments,
and indeed the British force as a whole,
were trifling for such a hard-fought action.
Whatever else the Highland regiments may
have been asked to face before or since—for
whirlwind fury and deathless courage, for wild
disturbing swiftness and noisy violence, nothing
could surpass a Dervish charge.
Troops that can meet that without wavering—front,
rear, and flank—need have no qualms
for the future exigencies of war.
.pn +1 // Page 260.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap23 title='23. Chitral and the Gordons at Dargai (1895-1898)'
CHAPTER XXIII | CHITRAL AND THE GORDONS AT DARGAI | (1895-1898)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Come gather, come gather, ye lads o’ the heather,
An’ down thro’ the glen in the pipers’ wake;
Baith gentles and commons, gie heed tae the summons,
An’ haste tae the muster make.
Macpherson’s comin’, Cameron’s comin’,
Campbell, MacNeill, an’ the men o’ the island;
An’ a’ tae enlist in the Gordons, the best,
An’ the brawest o’ lads in the Highlands.
The Cock o’ the North.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
We must now return to the year 1895, to follow
one of those little wars that flare up intermittently
on the frontiers of our vast Empire, and accompany
the Gordons through the campaign that is
best known for the dramatic moment at Dargai.
Minor campaigns such as these are not of the
first importance from the military point of view,
nor should the name of a great regiment be
associated too closely with a single episode, but
they have this value, that they have enabled
our soldiers to keep in training for great and
laborious campaigns such as the Boer War, already
looming dark upon the horizon of history.
The initial fighting at Chitral proved to be the
beginning of a great deal of guerilla warfare on the
.pn +1 // Page 261.png
North-West frontier of India. Chitral had become
united to our Indian Empire in 1848; but the
Government took no particular part in controlling
the country, the consequence being that
when Umra Khan, ruler of Bajour, decided to
dispute our suzerainty, war was proclaimed.
Umra Khan acted with all promptitude, and at
the beginning was rewarded with some success,
besieging an English garrison in Fort Chitral in
January 1895. On the 1st of April Sir Robert
Low, accompanied by a force of 15,000 men,
amongst whom were the Gordon Highlanders
and the Seaforths, crossed the border country
with all speed and rushed the outposts of the
enemy on the 3rd of April. It was a hazardous
expedition, and the troops in their haste were
permitted to carry very few stores or ammunition
or tents. Major Bland Strange, in his interesting
narrative of the campaign, has written: “The
bones of the expedition, like those of the first
ill-starred one to Cabul, were also to whiten the
passes. The desperate valour of the hillmen, starvation,
Afghan guile, and Russian intrigue were to
smite us. But the good organisation and reticent
generalship of Low, the dash of Kelly, the dogged
defence by Robertson, and the steady courage of
our troops falsified pessimistic prophecy.”
There were two important passes in the enemy’s
country held by the Pathans, who were in a strong
position behind defences along the slopes of the
hills some 3000 feet above the advancing troops.
In order to carry the position the slope must be
rushed under the sniping fire of the enemy.
.pn +1 // Page 262.png
The Sikhs set out on this perilous business,
while the Gordons marched up the centre of the
Pass, and then, cutting away to the right, set
their faces to the hill-side. They provided an
easy mark for the enemy, but the advance was
never checked, and when the ridge was reached
a hand-to-hand conflict took place. Once on
top the Gordons and the Scottish Borderers soon
cleared the enemy out of the position. The
Gordons and the Gurkhas were then left to
defend the famous Malakand Pass, while General
Low pushed on after the enemy. By dogged
perseverance and the efficiency of the artillery the
British were enabled to fight their way through
to Chitral, and on April 20 marched into the
town. Umra Khan made for Afghanistan, and
the campaign was ended. A fort was built in
case of further revolution, and that greatest of
all factors in civilisation—a road—was constructed
to unite India with this outlying post.
Naturally enough, the tribes who were in the
neighbourhood of Chitral, and whose country
lay between it and India, were by no means
pleased by the occupation by British troops,
nor did they take very kindly to the road which
meant to them their eventual subjection. For a
considerable time there were rumours of trouble,
and in the end there broke out a sudden rising
of the people in the Waziri country. This was
in 1897, and so widespread was the trouble that
it was not crushed until the Indian Government
had put under arms the most formidable force
since the Mutiny.
.pn +1 // Page 263.png
There are several factors in such tribal uprisings
that carry with them their ultimate defeat.
First of all, there are always rumours of revolt
before it actually bursts into flame; secondly,
the tribes find it difficult to unite together, or
even to rise at the same time—thus a disciplined
army can deal with one after another; thirdly,
they have no definite system of organisation,
and—as in the case of the Afghans—are little
better than an army of snipers.
The Waziris rose first, then the Swatis under
the Mad Mullah, and so on to the Afridis and the
Orakzais. Each of these tribes was capable of
putting a great many men in the field. It has been
stated that the Afridis alone could provide 30,000
men armed with modern rifles. Sir William
Lockhart with 34,000 men, including some 12,000
British troops, amongst whom were the 1st Battalion
of the Gordon Highlanders, was sent against
these Afridis. In accordance with the native
custom of warfare, the enemy took up a position
at the summit of the now celebrated ridge of
Dargai, and there awaited the arrival of the
British. To advance with any safety, this pass
must first of all be cleared.
The initial encounter was rather futile. The
ridge was carried by storm, and then, as the
hillmen were in rapid flight, vacated again.
On the return of the British to camp, the Afridis,
under the delusion that our troops had taken
fright and were in retreat, assembled again
in their thousands, and full of elation attacked
them in the rear. The task of guarding the safe
.pn +1 // Page 264.png
return of the British troops was entrusted to
the Gordon Highlanders, who checked the rush
of the enemy with consecutive volleys. The
fight went on throughout the night, and so on
this day’s fighting, though much had been gained,
all had been thrown away. Dargai had been
taken, only to fall again into the hands of the
enemy, and before an advance could be made it
must be retaken at the point of the bayonet.
The withdrawal from Dargai has been bitterly
blamed by critics, some of them more carping
than competent; but one thing is clear enough—the
Afridis were so encouraged by regaining the
ridge that they were greatly heartened for the
next day’s fighting, and manned the heights in
expectation of victory.
Two days later the engagement was reopened,
the British artillery shelling the tribesmen’s most
prominent defences, but little damage could be
done in a country so covered with rocks. The
most it could accomplish was to assist the infantry,
and under the protection of the guns the
Gurkhas began the first assault. They rushed
into the bullet-swept zone that lay between
the end of the pass and the ascent, to be so
harassed by the rain of fire that they were compelled
to take cover at the bottom of the slope,
and there await support. The Dorsets and the
Derbys who gallantly went to their assistance,
were also compelled to take cover after a terrible
punishing. The zone of fire was concentrated
on a narrow stretch of open country, which had
to be crossed before the actual ascent of the
.pn +1 // Page 265.png
ridge began. That was the first stage of the
attack. Then the stiff climb followed, while at
the top of the ridge the Afridis waited under
cover. The triumphant shouts of the tribesmen
could be heard at the initial success over the
British arms, and at this desperate situation,
when three battalions were under cover, unable
to advance or retreat, the Gordons, with the
Sikhs in support, were called forward to carry
the position. Colonel Mathias appealed to his
famous battalion, “Highlanders,” he cried, “the
General says the position must be taken at all
costs. Men, the Gordons will storm that Pass!”
Colonel Gardyne has written that at those words
“there was first a tremendous hush—then the
answering cheer assured Colonel Mathias that his
confidence was not misplaced. The bugle sounds
the advance, the pipers play, the officers cry,
‘Come!’ and a wave of kilted soldiers bursts into
the fire-swept open. Almost at once, Major
Macbean fell, shot through the thigh.... The
gallant young Lamont was killed instantaneously;
Lieutenant Dingwall, wounded in four places,
was carried out of further danger by Private
Lawson. The first division reach the sheltering
rocks, panting for breath; they shout, the officers
waving their swords to those behind; while
Piper Findlater, though wounded and unable to
move, still inspires them with his warlike strains.
They start again, ‘the men cheering like mad,’
up the precipitous path leading to the crest where
they look for a warm reception. But the top is
reached—it forms a succession of ridges along
.pn +1 // Page 266.png
which the Highlanders rush unopposed, and great
is the cheering as they realise that the enemy is
in full flight.”
To put it bluntly, the Afridis had not waited
to dispute the position with men who could not
be stopped by bullets, and this charge in the face
of such a deadly and concentrated fire will be long
considered as courageous and splendid a story as
anything in the history of the Highland regiments.
What followed can be told in very few lines.
The war against the Afridis was by no means
over, but the eventual issue was already in sight.
The advance through the almost impenetrable
ravines and over the rugged hills progressed
painfully, but with determination. Peace came
on April 4, 1898. It had been a memorable
campaign, and one that the troops engaged in
were naturally proud to commemorate. As Sir
William Lockhart said in taking leave of them,
“The boast of the tribes was that no foreign
army—Moghul, Afghan, Persian, or British—had
ever penetrated, or could penetrate their
country; but after carrying three strong positions
and being for weeks subsequently engaged in
daily skirmishes, the troops succeeded in visiting
every portion of Tirah, a fact which will be kept
alive in the minds of future generations by ruined
forts and towers in their remotest valleys.”
The Gordons received two Victoria Crosses
for gallantry in the action at Dargai, and established
themselves, by their exploit, first favourites
in the affections of the British people.
.pn +1 // Page 267.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap24 title='24. From the Beginning of the Boer War to the Battle of Modder River (1899)'
CHAPTER XXIV | FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE BOER WAR TO THE BATTLE OF MODDER RIVER | (1899)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
“She stands alone: ally nor friend has she,”
Saith Europe of our England—her who bore
Drake, Blake, and Nelson—Warrior-Queen who wore
Light’s conquering glaive that strikes the conquered free.
Alone?—From Canada comes o’er the sea,
And from that English coast with coral shore,
The old-world cry Europe hath heard of yore
From Dover cliffs: “Ready, aye ready we!”
“Europe,” saith England, “hath forgot my boys!—
Forgot how tall, in yonder golden zone
‘Neath Austral skies, my youngest born have grown
(Bearers of bayonets now and swords for toys)—
Forgot ‘mid boltless thunder—harmless noise—
The sons with whom old England ‘stands alone’!”
Theodore Watts-Dunton.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
In an earlier chapter we have seen how the
humiliating defeat of Majuba left the Boers
in possession of the Transvaal. Since that
event many things had happened. The discovery
of gold had brought great numbers of
people into the Boer territories; the rivalry
between the Britisher and the Dutchman grew
fiercer and fiercer year by year, till eventually
there was this curious situation—that a comparatively
small body of Boers ruled with the
.pn +1 // Page 268.png
utmost severity, and taxed with the greatest
heaviness a very large population of Englishmen.
The Government at Pretoria was as corrupt as
a South American Republic; it was determined
to embarrass in every way the newcomers who
came under its authority, and this constant
friction was one of the main causes that were to
bring about one of the most critical, most costly,
and most humiliating wars in which we have
ever taken part.
The troubles of the Uitlanders, as they were
called, reached a head when Dr. Jameson,
supported by a few hundred men, crossed the
Transvaal border on December 29, 1895. It
will probably never be known how wide was
the conspiracy which inspired this futile raid,
but we find it difficult to believe that so small
a body of men could have hoped to achieve
anything by themselves. In all likelihood the
scheme was premature, at any rate Dr. Jameson
and his men were rounded up and forced to
surrender. The British Government was not
in a position to defend Jameson, while Kruger
threatened that if the Uitlanders, who, of course,
were sympathetic with the raid, rose in rebellion,
he would not hesitate to shoot their leader.
Instead of doing the Boer Government any
damage, the unfortunate Uitlanders had played
into Kruger’s hands. It was impossible to
deny that he had been attacked in an unwarrantable
and illegal fashion, but when he acted
with apparent leniency he was merely playing a
cunning part. He stated—and it sounded quite
.pn +1 // Page 269.png
reasonable under the circumstances—that it
would be impossible to give the Uitlanders the
vote after such a conspiracy had been on foot.
The raid made things awkward all round.
For some time England had learnt with
anxiety that arms were being freely imported
into the Transvaal. After the raid it was impossible
to make any expostulation, and from
now onwards until the war the Uitlanders—like
the Israelites of old—groaned under Kruger.
Their plight was indeed a very hapless one.
They had attempted by great patience and
industry, and without protesting unduly when
the Boers grew rich upon their labours, to win
some legal recognition, and had failed. They had
then planned for a rising with a view to winning
their own freedom by their own arms. This, too,
had failed. Finally, they had so embarrassed the
mother-country that she could do nothing to
help them. At last they decided that they would
openly petition the Queen, and in a moment the
whole quarrel was lifted from Pretoria to the
throne of England. A conference took place
between Sir Alfred Milner and President Kruger
at Bloemfontein on May 30, 1899. It is doubtful
whether the Boer President desired that any
agreement should be come to; it is more probable
that he was playing for time—at any rate no
conclusion was reached, and later on Sir Alfred
Milner brought it home, perhaps for the first
time, to England that she must take action.
“The case for intervention,” he said, “is overwhelming,
the only attempted answer is that
.pn +1 // Page 270.png
things will right themselves if left alone. But,
in fact, the policy of leaving things alone has
been tried for years, and it has led to their going
from bad to worse. It is not true that this is
owing to the raid. They were going from bad to
worse before the raid. We were on the verge of
war before the raid, and the Transvaal was on
the verge of revolution....”[#]
Still, the British Government struggled to
maintain peace, and to come to some amicable
arrangement. But the Boers, like the Amir of
Afghanistan, did not believe England would ever
face trouble. They were also contemptuous of
the British soldier.
To-day, when the long conspiracy of Prussia
is admitted by the most unsuspicious person, it
can be recalled that, without question, the Boer
Government was in touch with Germany, and
that not only cases of rifles passed into Pretoria
and Johannesburg, but that Krupp guns, outranging
our own artillery, were shortly to create
the first of many surprises in that surprising war.
The sympathies of Europe were entirely with
the Boers, and, doubtless, Kruger had been
advised from Berlin. Many Germans took
part in the campaign, and it was in certain
measure to their expert knowledge that the Boer
artillery was so well manned. Beyond that the
Boers could fully hold their own. Botha, Joubert,
and De Wet were in their several capacities
brilliant strategists and resourceful leaders. The
burghers were well armed, well mounted, exceedingly
.pn +1 // Page 271.png
courageous, and inspired by the deepest
hatred for the British. The British, on the other
hand, were very ignorant regarding the Boer,
greatly under-estimated the numbers they could
put in the field, had no expert knowledge regarding
the country or manner of the fighting there,
and could not persuade themselves that this was
anything but a kind of punitive expedition. By
this time, with so many campaigns behind us,
some judgment can be formed upon the British
Army, not only the Highland regiments with whom
we have dealt in particular, but those English
Line regiments and cavalry, whose prestige and
courage have won a hundred victories. Yet were
these to suffer amazing disasters in South Africa.
The war was indeed to prove the graveyard of
many hopes and many reputations. Looking
back at it now, after the interval of many years,
and when the greatest war has shown that the
British Army is as invincible as ever it was, we can
only come to the conclusion that the generalship
in South Africa had for a season fallen altogether
into decay. The days of the Crimea and the
Mutiny were long past; Roberts and Wolseley
were old men; Kitchener, the most competent
organiser of the younger generation, was still engaged
with his great work in Egypt, while a kind
of dry-rot seems to have come over the generation
that lay between. The ultimate good of the
South African War was that it cut this dry-rot
clean away; but the story of the war is one of
great courage and endurance struggling against
the grossest incompetence.
.pn +1 // Page 272.png
The Boer Government kept the negotiations
running until the falling of the rain.
With the rain the grass sprouted, the veldt
was no longer like a desert, and the days for
campaigning were nigh. For many months
Kruger had been preparing for the conflict, while
the British Government were so deep in the political
negotiations that they thought of nothing
else. The Boers could place 50,000 burghers,
together with their heavy artillery, in the field,
while the British forces in South Africa were a
mere handful. Troops were despatched from
India, including the 2nd Gordon Highlanders,
and these arrived at the end of September,
bringing the number of the British army in
South Africa to 22,000.
On October 9, 1899, President Kruger issued
his ultimatum, and within forty-eight hours the
Boer War had commenced. On October 12 the
Boer forces were on the march, 12,000 of them,
with two batteries of eight Krupp guns each,
setting out from the north. From the Transvaal
came another commando accompanied by a
number of Germans, armed with heavy guns,
and led by Joubert.
The British forces under the command of Sir
George White and General Penn Symons were
concentrated at Ladysmith. This position was
not a strong one, and should really have been
vacated, but it was quite unsuspected that the
Boer artillery was as powerful as to include
6-inch Creusot guns. To Ladysmith came the
Gordon Highlanders, who eventually were to
.pn +1 // Page 273.png
undergo the famous siege under their old officer.
Some 4000 Britishers there were to meet the
advancing Boers, who came “winding in and
out between the hills as far as eye could reach,
the long black string of horsemen stretched like
an enormous serpent, with head and tail lost in
space.” In this manner the Boers entered Natal,
and on the 12th of October came into touch with
the British under General Penn Symons. General
Symons was a man of the greatest courage, and
with the utmost confidence and pride in his men.
He awaited the arrival of the Boers at Talana
Hill, where, with the breaking of the dawn the
black figures of the enemy were first seen against
the sky-line, and the opening action of the long
war commenced.
It was evident at once that the Boer artillery
would make our position untenable, and while
our guns were endeavouring to gain a mastery
over those of the enemy, the infantry were sent
up the front of the hill under a very severe fire.
General Symons was one of the first to fall. To
the last he encouraged his men, and throughout
he had refused to take the smallest care for his
own safety.
This first conflict, which does not really concern
us in this book, was of no strategic value, and
resulted in a heavy loss of men, though it was in a
sense a success, since the Boers were driven back
from Talana Hill. But it was the first indication
that in a country like South Africa the storming
of one hill in a land of hills without any definite
strategic gain is simply bad generalship.
.pn +1 // Page 274.png
In the meantime, General French, already
recognised as our most brilliant cavalry leader,
had set out towards Elandslaagte. Coming to
the conclusion that the numbers of the enemy
were too strong, he communicated with Ladysmith
that he must have reinforcements. In
a very short time the Devons, the Lancers,
with the Gordons and some artillery united with
his forces, and advanced towards the Boer position
upon a group of hills overlooking Elandslaagte
station. The artillery opened the engagement,
and succeeded in silencing the enemy’s
guns. The Boers, whose memories were fresh
with the strange spectacle of an untrenched foe
at Majuba, also received a surprise in this war,
so full of surprises. To their great dissatisfaction
the Manchesters and the Gordons, dressed
in undistinguishable khaki, advanced under cover,
the only colour visible being the kilt of the
Gordons, which they had refused to discard.
The Boer guns, worked by Colonel Schiel, a
German, with eighty German gunners under
him, opened fire with practised skill and
accuracy. The Boer Mausers picked off the
advancing British infantry, wounding, amongst
others, the Colonel of the Gordons. Suddenly a
storm burst over the conflict, a deluge of rain
beat upon the faces of the advancing troops,
the whistle of bullets sang in their ears, and men
were falling rapidly. Having lost their Colonel,
the Gordons hesitated when within charging
distance of the enemy. At that, Captain Meiklejohn—who
was to end his life so heroically
.pn +1 // Page 275.png
in Hyde Park—rushed to the front, calling
upon the Highlanders to follow him. For this
action Meiklejohn lost one arm, but received the
Victoria Cross. The victory was as good as won.
“Dark figures sprang up from the rocks in front.
Some held up their rifles in token of surrender.
Some ran with heads sunk between their
shoulders, jumping and ducking among the rocks.
The panting, breathless climbers were on the
edge of the plateau. There were the two guns
which had flashed so brightly, silenced now,
with a litter of dead gunners around them, and
one wounded officer standing by a trail. It was
the famous Schiel, the German artillerist. A
small body of the Boers still resisted. Their
appearance horrified some of our men. ‘They
were dressed in black frock-coats, and looked
like a lot of rather seedy business men,’ said a
spectator. ‘It seemed like murder to kill them.’
Some surrendered, and some fought to the death
where they stood.”[#]
Hardly had the ridge been taken and the
Highlanders had flung themselves down, utterly
exhausted, from the long advance and the
final charge with the bayonet, when a number of
Boers rushed from a place of concealment and
opened fire upon the Gordons. It was a moment
of dire peril. Men dropped on every side, and
things were instantly critical, when Sergeant-Major
Robertson rallied the battalion and carried
the Boer position, winning the Victoria Cross for
his gallantry.
.pn +1 // Page 276.png
Next day the Gordons returned to Ladysmith,
where they were to experience a four months’
siege.
Things moved quickly after this. On October
30 was the battle of Nicholson’s Nek; on
November 2 the last train left Ladysmith.
Leaving for a while the battalion of the Gordons
to take their part in the defence of Ladysmith,
we will follow the Highland Brigade in their
advance upon Kimberley.
The opening of the war caused the greatest
gratification to all well-wishers of the enemy and
a certain amount of despondency at home. On
the Continent there was the wildest delight
that the Boer army was carrying everything
before them. Few nations, apart from America,
Italy, Denmark, and Greece, were able to conceal
their elation that at last England was likely
to pass through her hour of bitter humiliation.
After a fortnight, in which five actions had taken
place, we had lost a quarter of Natal, a great
stretch of railway, and saw our troops besieged
or on the eve of being besieged in Ladysmith,
Kimberley, and Mafeking. The situation could
not be regarded as anything but critical. At the
same time reinforcements were being hurried
out, and should these various positions resist
the Boer attacks there was no reason to suppose
that the ultimate victory was far off. On November
12 Lord Methuen had reached the Orange
River, and, accompanied by a well-equipped
force—though not a large one in number—he set
out towards Kimberley, where he found the
.pn +1 // Page 277.png
Boers in possession of Belmont. The first action
has been described by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
as “an Alma on a small scale.” The British
troops took the hill by storm, driving the
enemy from their position at the point of the
bayonet. But the unfortunate culmination to
the majority of these early actions was that the
Boers bolted to their ponies and galloped away,
and owing to our lack of cavalry it was never
possible to turn a retreat into a rout. Lord
Methuen repeated this success two days later
at Graspan, and on the 28th fought the battle
of Modder River, in which the Argyll and
Sutherland Highlanders arrived in time to take
a part. Having driven the Boer before him on
two occasions within four days, Lord Methuen
was under the impression that the farmers
had lost heart and would no longer put up a
formidable resistance.
On the 28th began the advance on Modder
River, upon whose banks General Cronje was
entrenched. Cronje was a man of considerable
strength of character, a skilful general after
the Boer tactics, trusted implicitly by his men,
and in command of a strong and formidable
commando. So far the British had met the
enemy entirely in hill country; it had become
a kind of dream amongst the British soldiers
that if they could only catch the Boer in a plain
the effect of discipline and bravery would teach
the enemy a severe lesson. There was a certain
amount of truth in this belief, and when the
Boers did eventually come in sharp contact with
.pn +1 // Page 278.png
the Lancers it was a bitter enough experience
for them.
Unhappily no precautions appear to have been
taken to ascertain either the strength of the
enemy’s position or the best mode of attack.
For some reason or another, probably owing to an
under-estimation of Cronje’s position, the men
were not even permitted to breakfast before the
march began, and so on a beautiful morning they
set out towards the undulating plain that lay upon
the other side of the river.
Cronje had laid his plans with the utmost
care and assurance, placing his men on both
sides of the river, entrenching them upon the
sloping ground, and concealing his artillery.
The question has been raised—and Sir Arthur
Conan Doyle raised it again—Why the river
should have been crossed at that particular point;
also why the British forces should have been
led over an open plain without any attempt at
reconnaissance? Such problems as these, however,
might be multiplied to little purpose
throughout the earlier part of the South African
campaign. Perhaps the briefest answer to them
would be that it was just because of such incidents
as these that the country was eventually to plead
with its oldest soldier to take over the command.
Now that we have tested the lessons that South
Africa taught us, the humiliation has passed into
thankfulness that they came in time.
Cronje simply waited until the British were
within range of his fire, and then very suddenly
opened a tornado of bullet and shell fire at a
.pn +1 // Page 279.png
range of seven hundred and fifty yards. One
moment, and in front of them had lain an
apparently peaceful landscape, a few houses and
farms sleeping under the morning sun; the next,
and the whole horizon was blazing with death. It
was fatal to advance; the cavalry could do
nothing, while the infantry were dependent upon
the guns to gain the superiority. At this critical
moment one of the most dramatic incidents in
the war occurred. Out of the unknown, with
staggering horses and guns caked with mud,
lumbered up the 62nd Field Battery, which
had covered thirty-two miles in less than twenty-four
hours. It was a providential piece of good
fortune.
Throughout the long day the infantry lay
under the broiling sun, just as the remnants of
the Highland Brigade were to endure it not very
long after. The artillery engagement wore on,
the heat passed, and as night came the British
were gaining the advantage. All day they had
been without food. At last, in the late afternoon,
the North Lancashires managed to get across
the river and take up a position on the extreme
left, where they were joined by the Coldstreams
and the Argyll and Sutherlands. The action was
turning against the Boers. With this desperate
little force on their flank, and the artillery shattering
their guns on the front, they took advantage
of the night to evacuate their trenches and
retreat. It had indeed been a costly action, and
might have been a humiliating defeat. What
perhaps it was more than anything else was a
.pn +1 // Page 280.png
proof of British bravery under the most dismal
conditions.
Lord Methuen remained upon the Modder
River until he was joined by the Highland
Brigade, composed of the 2nd Seaforths, the
Highland Light Infantry, the 1st Gordons fresh
from Dargai, and the 2nd Black Watch, with
whom was Major-General Andrew Wauchope.
Wauchope had seen service in the Soudan, and
was one of the best-beloved officers in the history
of the Highland regiments.
A spectator has written: “Watching the arrival
of the Highland Brigade, very magnificent they
looked as they swung into camp, pipers strutting
before them, kilts swish-swishing, all in perfect
order and perfect step—the finest troops in the
world.”
The Boers, having fallen back from the Modder
River, halted at Magersfontein, a circle of hills
which Cronje endeavoured—with what success
we shall see—to render impregnable. It was the
next step towards Kimberley, and on Saturday,
December 9, Lord Methuen despatched one of
the most critical and forlorn expeditions in our
history, and the most tragic in the story of the
Highland regiments.
.fn #
See The Great Boer War, p. 48.
.fn-
.fn #
The Great Boer War, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
.fn-
.pn +1 // Page 281.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap25 title='25. With The Highland Brigade at Magersfontein (December 11, 1899)'
CHAPTER XXV | WITH THE HIGHLAND BRIGADE AT MAGERSFONTEIN | (December 11, 1899)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
I’ve heard them lilting at the ewe-milking,
Lasses a’ lilting before dawn o’ day;
But now they are moaning on ilka green loaning,
The flowers o’ the forest are a’ wede away.
Highland Funeral March.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
Confronting the British troops lay a circle of
hills which might or might not be tenanted by
the enemy. Lord Methuen followed the established
military course of shelling these hills from
a long range, preparatory to an advance. Unfortunately
it served no purpose, for the enemy
retired temporarily, only to return when the
bombardment was over, knowing that after the
artillery had concluded their futile expenditure
of shells, the British infantry would, in the course
of things, advance. It was on Sunday, December
10, that the Highland Brigade set off early in the
afternoon under a deluge of rain. When they
came within a few miles of the Boers they halted,
and darkness began to fall.
At this point Lord Methuen communicated
to the Brigade commanders his plan for carrying
the enemy’s position. The attack would
.pn +1 // Page 282.png
be launched by the Highlanders at break of
dawn.
At midnight, under a lowering sky, and in
the black darkness of an African night, the
Highland Brigade set out upon its tragic march.
The men were drenched to the skin, carried no
food, and were formed in quarter column. On
the right the Black Watch, then the Seaforths,
the Argyll and Sutherlands next, and in reserve
the Highland Light Infantry. The Gordons,
who had only arrived before the march began,
remained in camp. It is important to follow
out the plan of attack as indicated by Lord
Methuen in his despatch.
“The night march was ordered for 12.30 A.M.,
the bearings and distance having been ascertained
at great personal risk by Major Benson, Royal
Artillery, my Deputy-Assistant-Adjutant-General.
The distance is two and a half miles, and daybreak
was due at 3.25 A.M. I may remark that
two rifles went off by accident before the march
commenced, and it is pretty clear flashes from
a lantern gave the enemy timely notice of the
march. Before moving off, Major-General
Wauchope explained all he intended to do, and
the particular part each battalion of his brigade
was to play in the scheme, namely, that he intended
to march direct on the south-west spur
of the kopje, and on arrival near the objective
before daybreak the Black Watch were to move
to the east of the kopje, where he believed the
enemy to be posted under shelter, whilst the
Seaforth Highlanders were to march straight to
.pn +1 // Page 283.png
the south-east point of the kopje, with the
Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders prolonging
the line to the left, the Highland Infantry to be
in reserve until the action was developed. The
Brigade was to march in mass of quarter column,
the four battalions keeping touch, and if necessary
ropes were to be used for the left guides. These
ropes were taken, but, I believe, used by only
two battalions. The three battalions were to
extend just before daybreak—two companies in
firing line, two companies in support, and four
companies in reserve—all at five paces interval
between them.”
It is not our business to criticise the scheme
of attack, but only to deplore the fact that so
many brave men should lose their lives in such
an abortive attempt. It would have been impossible
to reach the Boer lines in anything but
disorder had the Highland Brigade not advanced
in close column: the blunder appears to have
been that they maintained close formation too
long. Long before, in the year 1746, the Highlanders,
who might be expected to have an intimate
knowledge of the country through which
they were passing, set out upon a similar night
attack, only to find themselves hopelessly lost—and
that not so very far from Inverness. At
Magersfontein the distance was a short one, but
the difficulty of ascertaining how far the Boer
trenches were from the foremost columns led
to chaos. No one has described the situation
more graphically than Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
in The Great Boer War. “With many a trip
.pn +1 // Page 284.png
and stumble,” he writes, “the ill-fated detachment
wandered on, uncertain where they were
going and uncertain what it was they were meant
to do. Not only among the rank and file, but
among the principal officers there was the same
absolute ignorance. Brigadier Wauchope knew,
no doubt, but his voice was soon to be stilled in
death. The others were aware, of course, that
they were advancing either to turn the enemy’s
trenches or to attack them, but they may well
have argued from their own formation that they
could not be near the riflemen yet. Why they
should be still advancing in that dense clump we
do not now know, nor can we surmise what
thoughts were passing through the mind of the
gallant and experienced chieftain who walked
beside them.... Out there, close beside him,
stretched the long trench, fringed with its line
of fierce, staring, eager faces, and its bristle of
gun-barrels. They knew he was coming. They
were ready. They were waiting. But still, with
the dull murmur of many feet, the dense column,
nearly four thousand strong, wandered onwards
through the rain and the darkness, death and
mutilation crouching upon their path.”
The end came quickly enough. Within a few
hundred yards the Boer rifles opened fire upon
the massed columns of the Highlanders. They
fell in solid ranks and companies. The destruction
inside a few moments has been rightly
enough compared to the fall of corn before the
reaper. Out of the darkness there was one
single lurid blaze of light, a prolonged roar of
.pn +1 // Page 285.png
musketry, and the Highland Brigade was decimated
as it stood.
Just as the fire opened, the order had been
given for the men to deploy, but the extension
never took place. Wauchope was one of the
first to fall. As his biographer has finely said:
“General Wauchope fought and fell as a man
and as a soldier, carrying out his orders loyally
to the end. He died where he would have wished
to die—at the head of his gallant Highlanders,
with his face to the foe.”
It was impossible for the Highland Brigade to
advance in any order: their officers were killed,
their ranks were broken, they were confronted by
barbed wire and strong entrenchments, and yet
it came hardly on them that they should have
to retreat. F. G. Tait, the famous Scottish
golfer, who was destined to fall at the Modder
River, remarked in a letter home: “General
Wauchope and our Colonel, and Captain Bruce
and young Edmonds were all killed, with the lot
of men that I accompanied. General Wauchope
is in no way responsible for the fearful loss of
life amongst the Highland Brigade: he got his
orders, and had to carry them out, and he was
killed in front of his brigade. I feel certain that
if we had been led up in line we should have
rushed the position with probably a quarter of
the loss that we actually suffered. As it was, we
arrived rather late, and in mass of quarter column....
You might imagine the effect of a tremendously
hot rifle fire into that compact body.”[#]
.pn +1 // Page 286.png
According to F. G. Tait the first orders that
emerged from the chaos and noise and the groans
of the wounded were those of, ‘Lie down, fix
bayonets, and prepare to charge.’ This, unhappily,
led very little farther. Tait writes as
follows: “We got along a hundred yards or so
when we got into the dreadful flanking as well as
frontal firing, and lost very heavily. I could now
see that the enemy were in trenches about 200-250
yards off. We managed to get 50 yards
nearer, losing heavily all the time, and there we
lay down (what was left of the lot with me) and
began firing. I was about 15 or 20 yards in
front, and had just got up to get back in line when
I got a bullet through my left thigh. I was able
to turn over on my stomach and fire at the
Boers. A quarter of an hour later it was quite
light, and then we began to get it properly. The
men on each side of me were hit straight away,
and in a few minutes very few were left unhit.
It was quite impossible for any ambulance or
doctor to advance, so all our wounded lay within
200 yards or so of the Boer trenches all day in a
broiling sun, being shot at whenever they moved
until seven o’clock at night, most of them without
a drop of water.”
And yet out of this dismal event, despite
their terrible position, the Highland Brigade did
not lose their prestige. Trapped, bewildered,
unable either to advance or retreat, they held
their ground and died without fear. Many,
indeed, perceiving that no officers were left to
lead them, advanced on their own initiative
.pn +1 // Page 287.png
through the hail of fire, and were discovered
in the morning suspended on the barbed wire
before the Boer trenches. A section of the Black
Watch, it is recorded, refused to retire, and
entrenching themselves as far as they could,
carried on the combat throughout the long
terrible day, until when night fell there was not
one single survivor left. All through that desperate
day the Highlanders lay exposed to the Boer fire,
refusing to surrender, without food or water,
wounded and unwounded together, awaiting the
support from the artillery and the reserves,
which was so difficult to give. It has been recorded
of the Argyll and Sutherlands that their
claim to the pledge, “We die, but we do not
surrender,” was most nobly earned that day.
At Magersfontein the regiment that had provided
the ‘thin red line’ at Balaclava remained steady
under the terrific fire, and it was owing in a large
degree to the 93rd and to the Coldstream Guards
that their unfortunate comrades, who had led the
advance and suffered more terribly, were enabled
to hold out during the day.
To return to the actual conflict. It is stated
that within a few moments of the opening of
the Boer fire at least 600 men were out of
action. Less courageous or disciplined soldiers
would have broken and scattered wildly to
the rear, and none could have called them
cowards; but the Highland Brigade, assembling
as far as was possible within their own units, had
by the break of day made some attempt at
following up the belated attack. Unfortunately
.pn +1 // Page 288.png
the Boers were so securely entrenched that it
was a very one-sided affair. The rising sun
brought the Horse Artillery up at the gallop, and
under cover of their fire the Highland Brigade
were enabled to get some respite from the
deadly Boer marksmanship. As day advanced
reinforcements were hurried up, the Gordons
coming with the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the
Coldstreams, and the gallant Yorkshire Light Infantry
to protect the flank. In the afternoon the
Highland Brigade—who had tasted neither food
nor water for twenty-four hours—made a pitiful
effort to charge the Boer position. The fire
that was opened upon them was, at so short
a range, almost annihilating. It was inevitable
that they must remain out of action until they
could fall back and reassemble. The Gordons,
who came fresh into action, did what was possible
to distract the Boer fire from their unhappy
comrades, and when the evening came the merciful
darkness enabled the wreckage of the Highland
Brigade to creep back to the rear.
The bitterest day in the story of the Highland
regiments was, at last, at an end. The disaster
at Magersfontein brought with it a loss of nearly
1000 men; out of the Highland Brigade 57
officers had fallen, and in the Black Watch
alone 19 officers and over 300 men. Never in
the annals of that regiment had there been such
a loss since the action at Ticonderoga in 1757.
In his report of the action, Lord Methuen
sums it up as follows: “The attack failed. The
inclement weather was against success. The men
.pn +1 // Page 289.png
in the Highland Brigade were ready enough
to rally, but the paucity of officers and non-commissioned
officers rendered this no easy
matter. I attach no blame to this splendid
brigade. Nothing could exceed the conduct of
the troops from the time of the failure of the
attack at daybreak. There was not the slightest
confusion, though the fight was carried on under
as hard conditions as one can imagine, for the
men had been on the move from midnight, and
were suffering terribly from thirst.”
The next morning the Boers awaited a British
attack, which never came. It was evident from
the disaster that had overtaken the Highland
Brigade that it would be almost impossible to
storm the Boer position by a frontal assault.
Lord Methuen, feeling that he could not carry
out a flanking movement without reinforcements,
decided he would rest his troops, and postpone
for the present the advance on Kimberley.
.fn #
F. G. Tait. By J. L. Low.
.fn-
.pn +1 // Page 290.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap26 title='26. Paardeberg and Ladysmith'
CHAPTER XXVI | PAARDEBERG AND LADYSMITH
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, Pibroch of Donuil,
Wake thy wild voice anew, summon Clan Conuil.
Come away, come away, hark to the summons!
Come in your war array, gentles and commons!
Regimental March.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
In the meantime various engagements had taken
place elsewhere, and a curious condition of stalemate
was gradually setting in, during which the
British troops kept in touch with large bodies
of Boers, but were in most cases quite unable to
advance and relieve the beleaguered townships
of Ladysmith, Mafeking, and Kimberley. The
whole situation gradually formed itself for the
long-awaited advance of Sir Redvers Buller, with
all its unfortunate contingencies. But we must
first deal with the engagement at Stormberg.
It has been narrated, in a former chapter, how
General Gatacre—or General ‘Backacher,’ as he
was called in the Service—was the first to reach
the thorny entanglements of the Dervish camp
at the Atbara. He was a man of the greatest
bravery, but by no means a skilful general,
relying solely upon the courage of the British
soldier. In a country like South Africa, where
.pn +1 // Page 291.png
a pound of personal bravery was not always as
fruitful as an ounce of strategy, optimism of this
kind was only overloading a willing horse. It
was magnificent, but it could not stop a rifle
bullet at a thousand yards. Unfortunately, too,
the forces under General Gatacre had been largely
drawn upon for the assistance of Lord Methuen
and Buller. On the night of December 9 he
discovered that the Boers were in position at
Stormberg, and with his little force of 3000 men
set out for a night march, intending to storm
the Boer trenches at dawn. The whole scheme
of attack, on a lesser scale, was painfully similar
to that at Magersfontein. It was so splendidly
obvious.
By the time the men had come within reach
of the Boer position they were so tired they
could hardly drag their feet along. To Gatacre
fatigue was nothing. At the break of the dawn
he alone was full of zeal and courage, and spurred
on by dread of a reverse to storm the position.
Unfortunately it was the Boers who opened fire
on the British, when a deadlock instantly ensued.
It was difficult to carry the hill under such conditions;
for on such occasions, when aeroplanes
did not guide artillery fire, our own guns played
as much havoc among our own infantry as among
the Boers.
In a similar plight at Dargai the Gordons
carried the position and enabled their comrades
to move; but here it was impossible to extricate
the men, and this led to a miserable surrender of
a good many and the forlorn retreat of the rest.
.pn +1 // Page 292.png
Gatacre fell back after the action, and was
shortly reinforced, but the incident had in no
way improved matters for the prestige of the
British arms. Within a week Methuen had
suffered a crushing reverse at Magersfontein
while Gatacre had been again beaten.
Fortunately by this time great numbers of
troops were arriving in South Africa, and soon
after Sir Redvers Buller prepared for the crossing
of the Tugela River. On Friday, December
15, he advanced from Chieveley Camp to storm
the Boer position. It was the first step towards
Ladysmith. As none of the Highland regiments
took part in this action, it is merely necessary
to record that the battle of Colenso took place,
and despite the heroism of the British soldiers,
and in particular the Irish Brigade, the action
was lost, and our troops, after a loss of 600, fell
back on Chieveley Camp.
The first advance to the relief of Ladysmith
had been severely and ignominiously checked.
The Christmas of 1899 was as black as any
through which our nation has passed. The
repeated defeats of the British forces flung a
gloom over the country that for a moment almost
paralysed it. More and more troops had been
despatched to South Africa, and numbers only
seemed to magnify our disasters. At such a
moment Britain turned to her sons in this country
and throughout the Empire.
But it was necessary to do more than raise
new armies: the whole country required reassurance,
and the name of one man instantly
.pn +1 // Page 293.png
rose before the public mind. When Lord Roberts
was asked to take supreme command in South
Africa, with Kitchener as his Chief of Staff, he
accepted with the same readiness that Sir Colin
Campbell displayed at the time of the Indian
Mutiny. “It is God’s will,” said Roberts, now
heartbroken at the death of his son, and two days
before Christmas he left London for the front.
His very name was half the battle, for, to recall
the familiar lines:
.pm verse-start
There is something that’s audacious
In the very name of ‘Bobs,’
There’s a dare and dash about it
Makes you sort of want to shout it,
So that all the world can hear it
As you cheer.
.pm verse-end
On January 10, 1900, he landed at Cape Town,
and appreciated at once the extreme gravity of
the situation. The successes of the Boers were
encouraging signs of revolt amongst the Cape
Colonists, and to crush these symptoms at once
Roberts set out towards the Orange Free State,
anxious at the same time to distract the pressure
upon Kimberley and Ladysmith. But there were
many other things to do. In such a country
as South Africa great numbers of mounted
troops were a necessity. No attempt had been
made so far to work upon the material that was
already to hand. Regiments were formed of
South African colonists, and mounted forces such
as the Yeomanry and the Australian and Canadian
Horse were to prove one of the most potent
influences in the later stages of the campaign.
.pn +1 // Page 294.png
In the meantime there was continued bad news
from the seat of war. Again Buller had attempted
to cross the Tugela River, and had met with
utter defeat. The forlorn capture of Spion Kop,
with a loss of men amounting to forty per cent, had
only proved a futile engagement and a barren
victory.
Buller, who was courageous as a lion, admitted
that his heart failed him after Spion Kop, and
that he feared the relief of Ladysmith had
become an impossibility. But Roberts telegraphed
to him that whatever the cost might
be, Ladysmith must be relieved. In the meantime
Roberts set out upon the road to Bloemfontein
with the hope of relieving Kimberley
by the end of February. On February 8 he
reached Methuen’s camp on the Modder River,
and knowing so well how sore the Highland
Brigade must feel over the disaster at Magersfontein,
he made them a little speech stating
that he had never campaigned without Highlanders,
and hoped he would never do so, and it
was the Highlanders in India and Afghanistan
who had brought him his success. He then
wired to Kimberley the three words that were
to mean so much, “We are coming.”
It was all like a rushing of clean wind in a
parched land. Now for the first time the Boers
found themselves baffled as to the intentions and
plans of a British leader. They had hitherto
taken it for granted—and rightly so—that they
would be forewarned of every move that was to
take place, and had acted accordingly. Lord
.pn +1 // Page 295.png
Roberts gave them the impression that Bloemfontein
was his objective. Instead, on February
12 he instructed General French to make a dash
on Kimberley, while he would follow with the
infantry. French, the only general to make his
reputation in South Africa, and almost the only
one who did not lose it, set out with his cavalry,
made his way round the Boer position, and
pierced the Boer lines. Then, hastening on,
he broke through the enemy, and that same
evening entered Kimberley.
The genius of French was even more apparent
at Koodoostrand Drift, where he cut off Cronje’s
retreat toward Bloemfontein. It was a piece of
military daring as great as the sudden appearance
of Montrose at Inverlochy, or Jackson at Manasses
Junction. Speedily Cronje entrenched his men,
but the arrival of the infantry rendered his
ultimate surrender inevitable.
Inside the laager Cronje, despite the bitter
recriminations of the Boers, did his best to put
up a stout resistance, while outside our troops
crept nearer night by night, until on February
27—the anniversary of Majuba—the Gordon
Highlanders, to whom such a task was naturally
very acceptable, advanced upon the Boer trenches
under a heavy fire, and won a position controlling
the inside of the laager. Cronje, realising that
further resistance was impracticable, sent in a
notice of his surrender to Lord Roberts. The
meeting of the Boer commander and the hero of
Kandahar must have been one of the most
graphic incidents in the war. An eye-witness
.pn +1 // Page 296.png
has narrated: “Presently the body of horsemen
came past the hospital tents into the camp. A
heavy bundle of a man was lumped atop of a
wretched bony little Boer pony. Was this the
terrible Cronje? Was it possible that this was
the man who had held back the British army at
Magersfontein?... Lord Roberts stepped forward,
saluted, shook hands, and handed his fallen
enemy a chair: ‘You have made a gallant defence,
sir; I am glad to meet so brave a foe,’ was his
greeting.”
Thus within a brief fortnight Roberts had
entirely altered the whole aspect of the war.
He had inflicted a heavy defeat upon the Boers,
relieved Kimberley, and captured Cronje, together
with 4000 men. From now onwards his
swift advance, his unerring judgment, and the
services of his mounted troops not merely gave
fresh heart to the Empire, but broke the confidence
of the enemy.
.sp 2
We must now return to Ladysmith. It was on
October 30, 1899, after the humiliating disaster
at Nicholson’s Nek—a disaster that can be compared
to the surrender of the Duke of York’s
troops in Flanders in the eighteenth century,
that Sir George White made what preparations
he could to defend the town of Ladysmith. On
November 2 the last train had left, and the long
siege commenced.
White had some 10,000 men under his
command, and although the Boer commandos
numbered a very large force, the defenders
.pn +1 // Page 297.png
managed to give throughout the siege of four
months an exceedingly good account of themselves.
Ladysmith was a place of considerable
military importance, and it would have been a
signal disaster if it had fallen into the Boer hands
with so large a number of men. At the same
time it was a very difficult position to hold,
being commanded from every side by kopjes,
and lying, as it were, in a saucer. The Gordon
Highlanders, who were the only representatives
of the Highland Brigade to serve in the siege,
were old comrades-in-arms to White. He had
led them in the advance upon Kabul and
Kandahar. With him was Sir Ian Hamilton,
who had been with the 92nd at Majuba.
From November 3 onwards the progress of
the siege was marked by daily fighting and
increasingly short rations. Each regiment was
given a certain section of the circumference to
defend. Time dragged on, until by the beginning
of December, news came that Buller had
reached Frere Camp, while, in the far distance,
could be heard the booming of his guns. Later,
it was borne in upon the garrison that the British
force must have suffered a reverse, and that
relief was probably farther away than ever.
Enteric and typhoid were thinning out the
ranks, food was running short, and things began
to look very hopeless when, in the first gleam of
light on January 6, 1900, the enemy launched a
formidable attack. The defeat of Buller had
enabled the Boers to send reinforcements from
Colenso. They were full of confidence, and at
.pn +1 // Page 298.png
the initial assault carried everything before them.
It very soon became a case of hand-to-hand
fighting, in which the Gordons were called up with
Ian Hamilton in command. The Boers were
determined to capture Ladysmith, knowing the
great moral effect that would be produced
following upon their victory at Colenso. The
Manchesters, nearly overcome at Caesar’s Camp,
put up a magnificent resistance, until the
Gordons came up. It was in this advance that
Colonel Dick-Cunyngham was killed.
The British were determined that their positions
should never be taken by the enemy while
they survived, and in one place defended by
sixteen of the Manchesters, at the end of the
day fourteen lay killed, the remaining two
out of action. Throughout that day this fierce
fighting continued, until at last the Devons,
with the Gordons and the Rifles, cleared the
ridge of the enemy. It had been touch and go,
but at the last extremity the Boers could not
face the gleaming steel of the bayonet, and a few
minutes later were falling back from their trenches.
A fight lasting for twenty-six hours was over
at last. “But the end,” says Sir Arthur Conan
Doyle, “was not yet. The Boer had taken a
risk over this venture, and now he had to pay
the stakes. Down the hill he passed, crouching,
darting, but the spruits behind him were turned
into swirling streams, and as he hesitated for an
instant upon the brink, the relentless sleet of
bullets came from behind. Many were swept
away down the gorges and into the Klip River,
.pn +1 // Page 299.png
never again to be accounted for in the lists of
their field cornet. The majority splashed through,
found their horses in their shelter, and galloped
off across the great Bulwana Plain, as fairly beaten
in as fair a fight as ever brave men were yet.”
This was the final attempt to take Ladysmith
by storm, and it cost the British 13 officers and
135 men killed, with 28 officers and 244 men
wounded.
Meanwhile it had been rumoured that Ladysmith
was on the point of surrender, but the
famous heliograph had bravely answered, “We
have not come to that yet,” and, indeed, rather
than hand over their arms the garrison would
have fought their way towards the Tugela. Each
day found things more desperate, and relief came
only in time. Buller drove his way to within
a few miles of the town, and in the heart of the
battle sent his message, “Doing well.” It was
in the night of February 28 that the Boers could
be heard saddling up and leaving Pieter’s Hill, and
just before dawn Lord Dundonald, accompanied
by some cavalry, reached the British lines.
“Halt! Who goes there?” rang out the
familiar challenge, at which the dramatic and
long-prayed-for answer was returned, “The
Ladysmith Relief Column.” Quickly the news
spread through the town, the good tidings that
after all they had passed through, their defence
had not been in vain.
The sentiment that was uppermost both in
the minds of the garrison and throughout the
Empire was best expressed by Sir George White
.pn +1 // Page 300.png
himself. “I thank God we have kept the flag
flying,” he said in his address to the soldiers; and
it is recorded that an old Kaffir woman remarked
as she watched the troops entering Ladysmith,
“These English can conquer all things but
death.”
After the siege 2000 of the garrison, refusing
to take a well-deserved and altogether necessary
rest, set out upon the tracks of the retreating
Boers, surely one of the most pitiful spectacles
in history. “It is God’s mercy,” wrote Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle, “that they failed to
overtake them.”
Mafeking and Bloemfontein were the only
towns still to be relieved, and the former suffered
from no shortage of food.
.sp 2
To return to the Highland Brigade, we have
not dealt with the part that they took in the
advance upon Kimberley. With the hope that
he would distract the Boers, Roberts despatched
the Black Watch, the Argyll and Sutherlands, the
Seaforths, and the Highland Light Infantry,
with Hector Macdonald, popularly known as
‘Fighting Mac,’ at their head. Macdonald
crossed the Modder River, seized Koodoosberg,
and sustained an attack from the Boers the next
day. For a long time it fell to the Black Watch
to resist the furious onslaught of the enemy, who
were by no means satisfied to leave the situation
undisputed. It was here that Lieutenant Tait—one
of the most popular men in Scotland—was
mortally wounded. There is an interesting letter
.pn +1 // Page 301.png
that not only records his death, but also shows
how the Highland soldiers had fallen into the
manner of Boer fighting. A private writes: “I
got down beside our officer, Lieutenant Tait, on
his right hand. He said, ‘Now, men, we will
fight them at their own game.’ That meant
that each man was to get behind a rock and just
pop up to fire and then down again. And we
found it a good way, for we were just as good as
they were at it, and we did not forget to let them
know it either, for whenever one showed himself,
down he went with half a dozen bullets through
him. After firing for about half an hour the
Boers stopped, and the order was given not to
waste our shot. Lieutenant Tait’s servant came
up with his dinner, and he asked me if I would
like a bit, and I said I would, and thanked him
very much. He gave me and another man half
of his dinner between us.... Just as we finished
he said, ‘I think we will advance another fifty
yards, and perhaps we will see them better and
be able to give it them hot.’ We all got ready
again, and Lieutenant Tait shouted, ‘Now,
boys! We were after him like hares. The
Boers had seen us, and they gave us a hot time
of it. But on we went. Just as our officer
shouted to get down he was shot.”
Lieutenant Tait was one of the most beloved
men in Scotland. Thousands had seen him upon
the green, and few in Scotland could read of his
death without a sense of personal bereavement.
In the middle of June 1915 another eminent golfer
of equal fame and no less popularity, Captain
.pn +1 // Page 302.png
John Graham, of the Liverpool Scottish, was
fated to give his life for his country. No two
finer men and finer sportsmen ever brought fairer
honour to the name of Scotland in peace and war.
The action continued all day, and eventually,
on the approach of the 9th Lancers, the Boers
fell back and the Highland Brigade returned
to the Modder River, having lost some fifty men.
There followed afterwards the relief of Kimberley,
and from thence onwards to the end of the war
the part taken by the Highlanders was peculiarly
arduous and without many distinguished features.
Month after month they were employed in hard
marching, holding positions that the mounted
troops had carried, uncomplaining as always,
and winning back here and there some of the
losses that they had suffered at the hands of the
enemy at Magersfontein. We have seen how the
Gordons were instrumental in the capture of
Cronje, despite the heavy fire with which they
were met from the Boer trenches, and it is a
notable fact that the Highland Brigade, for all
their handling at Magersfontein, appear to have
suffered in no way in prestige, and were only too
anxious to make good. “On the 18th,” says
General Colville, speaking of the end of Cronje,
“the courage and determination shown by the
Highland Brigade in their advance over some
fifteen hundred yards of perfectly open plain,
and their passage of the river, both under heavy
fire, are beyond all praise.”
.pn +1 // Page 303.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap27 title='27. With Sir Ian Hamilton to Pretoria (1900)'
CHAPTER XXVII | WITH SIR IAN HAMILTON TO PRETORIA | (1900)
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
To you who know the face of war,
You, that for England wander far,
You that have seen the Ghazis fly
From English lads not sworn to die,
You that have lain, where, deadly chill,
The mist crept o’er the Shameful Hill,
You that have conquered, mile by mile,
The currents of unfriendly Nile,
And cheered the march, and eased the strain
When Politics made valour vain,
Ian, to you from banks of Ken,
We send our lays of Englishmen!
Andrew Lang.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
It was during the halt at Bloemfontein that the
Highland Brigade received reinforcements from
home, and no praise could be too high for the
volunteers who formed additional companies to
the regiments of the regular forces. To-day,
when thousands and hundreds of thousands are
trained soldiers who a year ago had never held
a rifle in their hands, it would be futile to belaud
the qualities of the amateur soldier. But until
the Boer War no one had taken unprofessional
soldiers very seriously. Just as the Territorials
won the esteem of the Regulars in Flanders,
so the companies of Volunteers earned the
.pn +1 // Page 304.png
admiration and gratitude of the country in the
Boer War.
The great need at this time was still for
mounted troops and more mounted troops, and it
is interesting to note that the Gordons were to a
large extent mounted to prove more effective.
Our soldiers have always been able to fit themselves
for whatever was required of them. The
infantry were mounted in the South African War,
and the cavalry in the German War were placed
in the trenches.
It was on May 3 that the British Army left
Bloemfontein and set out upon the road to
Pretoria. De Wet, who was now to take the
ascendance in Boer generalship, and to lead the
British troops in wearisome pursuit for many
months, was in command of a mobile force moving
swiftly across country, gathering food where
it could. With the utmost patience our
Highlanders covered over twenty miles a day,
“winning their way,” as some one has said, “at
the expense of their boots and not of their lives.”
Lord Roberts was in command of the main
division and General Ian Hamilton was over the
right column. With him were the Highland
Brigade, including the Camerons, new come from
Egypt. The Brigade, as a body, never reached
Pretoria, though the Gordons and the Seaforths
entered the Boer capital. It is the march on
Pretoria with General Hamilton that we must
first follow.
The Commander of the Highland Brigade was
an old Gordon officer, by training and heredity a
.pn +1 // Page 305.png
soldier. Born in 1853, he first saw service in
the Afghan War. He was wounded at Majuba,
losing the use of one hand. He received the
D.S.O. for gallantry in the Soudan, fought in
the Chitral and Tirah campaigns; and in this
chapter we will accompany him on the march
to Pretoria, in which he covered four hundred
miles, fought ten engagements, and took five
towns. After the Boer War he accompanied the
Japanese army to Manchuria, and upon his
return was made General Officer Commanding-in-Chief
Mediterranean and Inspector-General
Overseas Forces in 1910.
No finer, more experienced, more brilliant
soldier could have been placed in command of
our forces in the Dardanelles.
.sp 2
It was at Thabanchu Mountain that the
Gordons brought additional distinction to their
name, linked with that of Captain Towse. The
British troops were having it all their own way
when the Boers were reinforced by a party of the
foreign legion commanded by a Russian, the
majority of them being Germans. The situation
was a very curious one. The German troops
advanced in their customary close formation,
and with their usual deliberateness, and for
some time it was not realised that they were
part of the enemy’s forces. At the same time
Captain Towse, with a party of the Gordon
Highlanders, was moving in their direction, but
concealed from view behind the shoulder of the
hill. The Gordons could not see the enemy any
.pn +1 // Page 306.png
more than the enemy could see the Gordons,
and it was seen that the two forces would
confront each other at the brow of the hill.
“At last,” says Winston Churchill, “with suddenness,
both parties came face to face at fifty yards’
distance. The Germans, who had already made
six prisoners, called loudly on Captain Towse
and his little band to surrender. What verbal
answer was returned is not recorded, but a furious
splutter of musketry broke out at once, and in
less than a minute the long lines of the enemy
recoiled in confusion, and the top of the hill was
secured to the British.”
Unhappily, however, a chance shot deprived
the gallant Captain Towse of the sight of both
his eyes. For this action he received the Victoria
Cross he so richly deserved.
The advance now proceeded on the road to
Pretoria. The town was stated to be heavily
defended, and regarded as practically impregnable.
President Kruger had established himself there,
and it was thought that a very long siege would
await the British. On May 29 the Gordons
encountered the Boers at Crow’s Nest Hill, very
close to the place where the Jameson raiders
had surrendered to Cronje, and here the Gordon
Volunteers had their chance. The Highlanders,
“in perfect discipline and with disdainful silence,”
drove the Boers out of their position, and it is
worth while recording, in the words of an eye-witness,
the manner of the attack. “It was not
without a thrill that I watched this famous
regiment move against the enemy. Their extension
.pn +1 // Page 307.png
and advance was conducted with machine
regularity. The officers explained what was
required to the men. They were to advance
rapidly until under rifle fire, and then to push or
not as they might be instructed. With impassive
unconcern the veterans of Chitral, Dargai, the
Bara Valley, Magersfontein, Paardeberg, and
Houtnek walked leisurely forward.”
At eight hundred yards they came in for a
heavy fire from the Boer rifles. “But the
advance neither checked nor quickened. With
remorseless stride, undisturbed by peril or enthusiasm,
the Gordons swept steadily onward.”
The Boers were never able to tolerate that
kind of advance, and finding that rifles would
not stop the Highlanders, they hastily retreated,
and soon afterwards General Ian Hamilton rode
over to congratulate the battalion on their
exploit. Lord Roberts was not long in sending
his praise. “Tell the Gordons,” he wrote, “that
I am proud to think that I have a Highlander as
one of the supporters of my coat-of-arms.”
During this action the fourth Victoria Cross
was given to the Gordons, being awarded to
Corporal Mackay, who “repeatedly rushed forward
under a withering fire at short range to
attend to wounded comrades, dressing the wounds,
while he himself was without shelter, and in one
instance carrying a wounded man from the open
under a heavy fire to the shelter of a boulder.”
On May 31 the Union Jack flew over Johannesburg.
At this point General French arrived, and
as senior officer took command. General Sir
.pn +1 // Page 308.png
Ian Hamilton then thanked the Gordons, “the,
regiment my father commanded and I was
born in,” for their support. On June 3 the
army set out for Pretoria, when suddenly the
whole contemplated resistance of the Boers faded
away like smoke. President Kruger, not forgetting
two millions of money, but leaving his
wife instead, hurried to Delagoa Bay, and with
his departure came the unconditional surrender
of Pretoria. It had been a long and arduous
march, covering forty-five days and some four
hundred miles of country. The Highlanders
engaged in nine actions, and occupied five towns.
It must have been a dramatic and inspiring spectacle
to see the Gordons and the Camerons, gaunt
and lean with all the fatigue through which they
had passed, in tattered clothes and soleless boots,
marching into the Boer capital. It might have
been thought that the fall of Pretoria would have
brought with it the conclusion of the Boer War.
But the fall of Pretoria held no special significance
to the Boers. Many of them had probably
never seen the town, and took no interest in it.
They resorted to a manner of warfare peculiarly
suited to their habits of life, and which, developing
over an extensive country, threatened a
hopeless stalemate. They hoped by a guerilla
warfare to weary the British forces into a favourable
peace. From this point to the end of the
war that agile leader De Wet was to make his
name familiar as a kind of military will-o’-the-wisp.
Every week brought with it news of some
.pn +1 // Page 309.png
minor engagement in some isolated part of the
country. Here a position had been attacked or
there a convoy had been seized. Often it was
a raid on the long line of railway running from
Capetown to Pretoria, but always De Wet, despite
the efforts of the British, would manage to elude
capture and fling his burghers upon another part
of our lines.
On July 11, 1900, the Gordons won their
fifth Victoria Cross, and established a record
in the history of the Army. An officer who
was present has recorded the incident. “The
enemy’s position,” he says, “consisted of two
long hills, with a ‘nek’ between them about five
hundred yards long. In front of, and about six
hundred yards away from the nek were two small
kopjes. The guns galloped up between these
kopjes, which were one hundred and fifty yards
apart, and opened fire on the big hill on the
right. The Gordons were advancing behind the
guns in open order. The guns fired a few shots,
and then suddenly the enemy opened fire from
the hill on the left, which was only eight hundred
and fifty yards away. Very soon fifteen out of
the seventeen British gunners were wounded, so
that the guns could no longer be worked. The
Gordons by this time had reached the kopjes,
and were about one hundred yards from the guns,
the intervening space being in the enemy’s line
of fire. At this moment orders were signalled
by the General in the rear, from Lord Roberts
at Pretoria, telling General Smith-Dorrien to
retire. The Colonel of the Gordons, reluctant
.pn +1 // Page 310.png
to leave the guns to fall into the enemy’s hands,
sent up the teams of horses to fetch them, but
the Boer bullets were raining around, and two of
the horses were shot. Colonel Macbean then
shouted for volunteers to fetch in the guns.
Captains Younger, Gordon the Adjutant, and
Allan called on the few men around. They ran
out under heavy fire, and with the greatest
difficulty they dragged back the gun along
seventy yards of the way, but it would not even
then have been saved if three more men had not
run out and helped for the remaining thirty
yards to the kopje. As it was, one of the men
was hit only ten yards from the kopje, but he
was got in all right. Captain Allan was now
ordered away with his company to the left flank,
where they were kept for the rest of the day, but
Captain Younger, with several men, ran out to
try and save the second gun. It was got in, but
not before Captain Younger was shot dead.”[#]
This incident is interesting, not only as a
record of a gallant feat of arms, but also because
this Captain Gordon who won the Victoria Cross
was later on to command the Gordons in the
present war, and unhappily to fall a prisoner
with many of his men.
At the end of August Lord Roberts met Buller
and French at Belfast. Botha, a very able
general, and the future conqueror of German
South-West Africa, was beaten at Middelburg,
and this defeat added the Transvaal to the
British Empire. The news that Kruger had
.pn +1 // Page 311.png
fled to the Portuguese was another disappointment
to the enemy, but their determination to
resist the British was so strong that they refused
to surrender, for a long time carrying on the
unequal contest.
To return to the history of the Gordons in
South Africa, the Volunteer companies assisted
Buller against the Boers in Natal, and came into
action against Botha. Throughout their engagements
they acted up to the highest traditions of the
Highland regiments. Early in September there
was a dramatic and picturesque scene, when the
two battalions of the Gordons came face to face.
“The old 75th, with their Dargai laurels scarcely
faded, were meeting the 92nd on a scene of
victory amid mountains such as rear their heads
in Aberdeen. For a few moments discipline was
thrown to the winds, and questions were eagerly
asked.”
In due course the Highlanders were placed
in block-houses throughout the country, and
the pursuit of the Boers was mainly carried on
by the mounted troops.
We must now turn very briefly to the fortunes
of the other regiments of the Highland Brigade
who, while the Gordons were at Thabanchu and
elsewhere, were under the command of General
Macdonald, and employed in driving the Boers
out of the Orange River Colony. The months
that followed were marked by ceaseless marching,
interrupted by occasional conflict. De Wet
was a constant menace, convoys must be
escorted, bodies of Boers must be kept on the
.pn +1 // Page 312.png
move, and occasionally—as on June 3, 1900, when
De Wet captured 150 of the Black Watch—minor
disasters occurred. At the same time,
though their work was inglorious, it was invaluable,
and every now and then some incident,
such as the capture of Prinsloo with 5000 men
and 5 guns, would break the monotony of their
heavy tramping. “With half rations,” says
Cromb, “and muddy water as food and drink,
they marched and fought and fought and marched
through scorching hot days and bitter cold
nights.”
The concluding features of the war lay in the
hands of Lord Kitchener, who, with his genius
for organisation, set about building block-houses
to link up great sections of the country and
co-operate with the work of his mounted troops.
At last, in the beginning of June 1902, the long-looked-for
peace came to Britain and Boer in
South Africa. The Highland regiments had one
and all suffered very hardly during the campaign,
while none in the whole army had given more
lavishly than the Gordons, who both in losses
and honours attained a distinction as sad as
it was honourable. They received five Victoria
Crosses, losing 141 killed, 431 wounded, 12
captured, and 101 dead from disease.
It should be unnecessary, after a narrative
recording the actions in which the Highland
Brigade took part, to emphasise their gallantry
and their untarnished prestige, but if any support
for such a statement were required it would be
in the tribute of Lord Roberts: “No words of
.pn +1 // Page 313.png
mine can adequately describe their magnificent
conduct during this long and trying campaign.
We have only to look at the gallantry displayed
by the Gordons at Elandslaagte, at the unflinching
bravery of the Highland Brigade at
Magersfontein, and at Paardeberg, to realise
that the traditions of these regiments are nobly
maintained.”
.fn #
See Cromb’s Highland Brigade, p. 389.
.fn-
.pn +1 // Page 314.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=chap28 title='28. The Greatest War (1914-)'
CHAPTER XXVIII | THE GREATEST WAR | (1914- )
.sp 2
.pm verse-start
Thus only should it come, if come it must;
Not with a riot of flags or a mob-born cry,
But with a noble faith, a conscience high
And pure and proud as heaven, wherein we trust,
We who have fought for peace, have dared the thrust
Of calumny for peace, and watched her die,
Her scutcheons rent from sky to outraged sky
By felon hands, and trampled into the dust.
We fought for peace, and we have seen the law
Cancelled, not once, nor twice, by felon hands,
But shattered, again, again, and yet again.
We fought for peace. Now, in God’s name, we draw
The sword, not with a riot of flags and bands,
But silence, and a mustering of men.
Alfred Noyes.
.pm verse-end
.sp 2
Some day when the smoke has lifted from the
battlefields of Europe and the tramp of feet has
died away down the avenues of Time—when even
such a war as this is falling into perspective, and
order is disentangled from chaos—then will the
story of the Highland regiments be told, and the
great part they played in the cause of freedom
and liberty become an inspiration for the years
to come.
It would be a commonplace to repeat that there
.pn +1 // Page 315.png
is something new and terrible about this conflict—that
it resembles in no way the struggles of our
earlier chapters. It is not merely the greatest war—the
war of nations instead of armies,—it is the
most inhuman war. In it none of the laws of the
game have been practised. From the sack of
Louvain to the wreck of the Lusitania the policy
that has controlled the army and navy of the
enemy has bowed neither to pity nor to good faith.
In this colossal war, regiments, brigades, armies,
even nations have been swallowed up into the
dense confusion of ceaseless battle. Upon every
frontier, every mountain pass, upon the water,
under the water, and in the pure air of heaven
the grim struggle is waged night and day. When
great peoples sway to and fro in their millions
the time has passed for speaking of individual
battalions.
We have followed the fortunes of the Highland
regiments in the days when war was the profession
of soldiers. We have recorded the brilliant deeds
of one regiment or another, or, on occasions, of
one man. But all that has gone. Each regiment
has taken to its colours a dozen or two dozen
comrade regiments bearing its ancient name,
and carrying on, unseen, its proud prestige. To-day
the soldier belongs to no particular calling.
From the clerk to the dock-labourer—all have
become soldiers pro bono publico and pro patria.
Every day, in some part of the far-flung battle
line, deeds are being performed that we would
have proudly recorded in those earlier chapters;
day by day, death has been met by amateur
.pn +1 // Page 316.png
soldiers with the unbroken steadiness of veteran
troops.
All this is familiar. I only mention it to
clear the way for what I am about to say. It is
not yet possible to write in any detail concerning
the Highland regiments, but at the same time,
through the night of conflict some ray of light
occasionally pierces—some incident, some letter,
some fallen word, or act of bravery so splendid,
shows like the faint tracing of feet upon the sand,
the way that the Army has passed.
.sp 2
Never in the history of our nation has war
been declared with such unanimity of opinion
and such absence of idle demonstration. The
honour of England was at stake. The neutrality
of Belgium had been violated, and her people
looked to England, whose word has ever been
her bond. War was never less welcome, never
less foreseen, but in a moment, once the inevitable
burden was accepted, England laid down the
things of peace to take up the business of war.
And in that hour of suspense a remarkable
thing happened.
In the bitter humiliation of the South African
War the Empire had not deserted the Motherland,
but all had not been satisfied that the cause was
good; in the grave struggle that was about to
be opened with the greatest military tyranny in
history, every freeman became a bondman in
chains of patriotism to an ideal.
From Canada, Australia, New Zealand, India,
South Africa, and the most isolated outposts
.pn +1 // Page 317.png
of our great Empire, arose like the vast stirring
of a sea, the salutation of the Colonies and Dependencies.
Germany had relied upon conspiracy
in India, instead of which the Princes and Chiefs
were amongst the first to offer their services and
their wealth. The following remarkable letter,
written by an old Indian soldier to a young
soldier at the front, was published in an
English newspaper: “Praise be to the Guru.
Your father Sundar Singh here writes a word to
his dear son Sampuran Singh. It is meet for
a young man to be in the battle, and on this
account I am not taking thought. I am well
and happy, and I pray to the Guru for your
welfare and happiness. When you receive this
letter answer it and relate to me the full conditions
of the war.... Take no thought for your life
in the battle, for it is right to fight for the King,
and great glory will come to Hindustan, and the
Sikhs, and fame to the regiment.”
Germany had valued at nothing our amateur
Colonial soldiery until their baffled forces reeled
back before the charge of the Canadians at Ypres.
In our own country, impoverished though many
districts have been by emigration, the answer to
Britain’s summons was epic. In our Highlands
and to those who know their history, it was such
as to bring a lump to the throat. Long ago Sir
Walter Scott wrote: “In too many instances
the Highlands have been drained, not of their
superfluity of population, but of the whole mass
of the inhabitants, dispossessed by an unrelenting
avarice which will one day be found to have been
.pn +1 // Page 318.png
as short-sighted as it is selfish and unjust. Meantime,
the Highlands may become the fairy ground
for romance and poetry, or the subject of experiment
for the professors of speculation, historical
and economical. But, if the hour of need should
come, the pibroch may sound through the deserted
region, but the summons will remain unanswered.”
The summons has not remained unanswered.
The Highland regiments have been doubled
and quadrupled, while from over the seas the
Highlanders have come back under Canadian
Colours. There is not a man with the old
Celtic fire who has not, if he were able, delivered
a blow for the sake of the women and children
of Belgium. Why did they come? “Me no
muckle to fight for?” said Edie Ochiltree, the
old beggar. “Isna there the country to fight for,
and the burn-sides that I gang daundering beside,
and the hearths o’ the gudewives that gie me
my bit bread, and the bits o’ weans that come
toddling to play wi’ me when I come about a
landward town?”
.sp 2
The swift progress of the German advance
guard upon Belgium, the fall of Liége and Namur,
and the horrors that befell the Belgian peasantry,
brought one thing home to us very painfully, and
that was the need for a large army. What was
done was done quickly. Lord Kitchener was
given a free hand to raise new armies, and until
these should be trained he relied upon our
Regulars, Territorials, and the drafts of troops
from Canada and India to withstand the German
.pn +1 // Page 319.png
arms. It was more than a handful of men should
have been asked to do. What concerns us is how
they did it. The German advance came on
swiftly, relentlessly; and in the darkness of a
summer night, without confusion, without a
qualm, our little advance guard crossed the
Channel.
It is certain that amongst the first to cross to
France were the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders,
the Black Watch, the Camerons, the
Seaforths, and the Gordons. An eye-witness of
those early days has written: “Hurrying into
Boulogne, I was in time to see the Argyll and
Sutherlands marching through the streets of
the town to the camps which had been prepared
for them upon the neighbouring hills. The
population of Boulogne rushed to the unaccustomed
sound of the bagpipes, and it was
through lines of the old Boulonnais fishwives,
who had that morning bade tearful farewell to
their fisher-sons off to the depot, that our men
stepped gaily along, with a cheery grin and a
smile for the words of welcome shouted out to
them.”[#]
The Highland regiments took part in the
retreat from Mons, the most terrible in history,
and throughout that awful action, when officers
could not ride their horses for fear of sleeping
and falling to the ground, when fighting never
ceased for days on end, and our soldiers held
at bay a German force many times their superior
in numbers—the Highlanders fought sternly,
.pn +1 // Page 320.png
heroically, giving way with an utter disdain for
their own safety, and a longing for the day when
the retreat would end.
The unconquerable British Infantry have never
displayed the qualities of dogged endurance so
finely as in that eventful rearguard action. The
Germans could neither outflank, pierce, nor crush
the thin khaki line. It was the supreme test of
a veteran regular army. It is of interest to recall
that, on his return from the march to Kandahar,
Lord Roberts, at the Mansion House, stated that
he would never have undertaken the risk of covering
300 miles of country unless he had been
accompanied by veteran troops. “The characteristics
of young soldiers,” he said, “are to win a
winning game; to attack with dash where success
seems probable; or even to stand up to superior
forces where courage has not been damped by
previous reverses and faith in their leader remains
unimpaired. Under such conditions they may
even surpass their older comrades. But in times
of danger and panic, when the bugle sounds the
Retire, when everything seems to be going against
us, and when danger can only be avoided by
order and presence of mind; then it is that the
old soldier element becomes of incalculable value;
without it a commander would indeed be badly
off.”
.if h
.il fn=i_294.jpg id=argyll w=80% alt='Troops in town'
.ca The Argyll and Sutherlands Entering Boulogne August 1914
.if-
.if t
[Illustration: THE ARGYLL AND SUTHERLANDS ENTERING BOULOGNE AUGUST 1914]
.if-
During the retreat from Mons the Highland
regiments lost very heavily in officers and men,
and amongst them there fell the Master of
Burleigh, a very gallant and popular officer in the
Argyll and Sutherlands. “He was too brave
.pn +1 // Page 323.png
for anything,” related a Highlander, “he simply
wanted to be at ’em, and at ’em he went. I don’t
know where his sword was, but he hadn’t it when
I saw him—he had a rifle with the bayonet fixed,
just like the rest of us. I saw him at the time
he was wounded, and he just fought on gamely
till he and his party of brave fellows were cut off
and surrounded.”
We learn that the Camerons were in close
touch with the Black Watch at Mons, and at one
point in the retreat when the 42nd were in danger
of being surrounded, the 17th Battery R.F.A.
and the Camerons staved off an outflanking movement
of the Germans.
The 1st battalion of the Gordons were practically
annihilated in their first battle. For long
they had the melancholy reputation of being the
most badly hit regiment in the Army, until Neuve
Chapelle and the losses of the Cameronians and
the Seaforths, while in the first week in February
1915 the Black Watch fared no better.
The battle of the Aisne inflicted heavy casualties
on the Highlanders, particularly the Black
Watch, losses which after the battle of the Marne
brought the following unforgettable tribute from
Sir John French: “The Black Watch—a name
we know so well—have always played a distinguished
part in the battles of our country.
You have many well-known honours on your
colours, of which you are naturally proud, but you
will feel as proud of the honours which will be
added to your colours after this campaign. At
the battle of the Marne you distinguished yourselves.
.pn +1 // Page 324.png
They say that the Jaegers of the German
Guard ceased to exist after that battle. I expect
they did. You have followed your officers, and
stuck to the line against treble your numbers in
a manner deserving the highest praise. I, as
Commander-in-Chief of this Force, thank you,
but that is a small matter—your country thanks
you and is proud of you. The Russians have
won great victories, but you, by holding back the
Germans, have won great victories as well, as
if you had not done this the Russians could not
have achieved their successes. I am very glad of
this opportunity of addressing you, and thanking
you personally for your splendid work.”
One member of the battalion has written:
“We lost heavily in taking up position, and the
men were saddened by the loss of so many
officers.... Then later, the men had to deplore
the loss of their commanding officer, Colonel
Grant Duff—one of the bravest and best officers
the regiment ever had. He died bravely. He
was hard pressed, and doing execution with one
of his men’s rifles when he fell with a mortal
wound.”
The melancholy fate of one battalion of the
Gordons has yet to be revealed, but from various
accounts there is little doubt that in the confusion
of the swift retreat, and the overwhelming
force of the Germans, the message for a withdrawal
did not reach them, and acting up to
the gallantry of their records, they and their
distinguished Colonel remained at their posts
until surrender was the only course left to them.
.pn +1 // Page 325.png
The battles of the Marne and the Aisne were
the turning of the scales before the German
retirement. On September 13 Colonel Bradford
of the Seaforths was killed. One account of his
end runs: “It was in the battle of the Aisne,
when the Seaforths had taken up a position near
a wood, that the Germans began a heavy fire.
The Colonel was standing with two other officers
surveying the field of operations, when he was
struck by a shell and killed instantly.”
Another affecting passage runs: “We laid
him with two other officers to rest on their field
of honour, on a hill-side overlooking a valley of
the river. It was a sad but glorious moment
for us to stand and hear the padre tell us that
they had not shrunk from their duty, and had
fallen for the sake of their comrades. The next
day I found some Scotch thistles growing close
by, and I plucked the blooms to form a cross over
the dead chieftain’s grave.”
A doctor who was appointed to the Seaforths
has recorded: “At present (on the Aisne) we
are entrenched. Our first day in this place,
where we have been for five days, was awful, for
we were under fire the whole of the day, with
practically no protection, and our total of killed
and wounded amounted to seventy. The men
never wavered, and gaps were always filled.
Grand are the Highland men, and grander still
will be the account they will render; I am lucky
to be with such men.”
What simple words, and yet what a tale of
sacrifice and heroism lies behind them. Well
.pn +1 // Page 326.png
might General Sir H. Smith-Dorrien write from
the front to the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Families
Association: “Never has an army been called
on to engage in such desperate fighting as is of
daily occurrence in the present war, and never
have any troops behaved so magnificently as
our soldiers in this war. The stories of the
battle of Mons and Le Cateau are only beginning
to be known, but at them a British force not only
held its own against a German army four times its
own size, but it hit the enemy so hard that never
were they able to do more than follow it up. Of
course our troops had to fall back before them,
an operation which would demoralise most armies.
Not so with ours, however; though they naturally
did not like retiring for twelve successive days,
they merely fell sullenly back, striking hard
whenever attacked, and the moment the order
came to go forward there were smiling faces
everywhere. Then followed the battles of the
Marne and the Aisne. Tell the women that all
these great battles have, day by day, witnessed
countless feats of heroism and brave fighting.
Large numbers will be given Victoria Crosses and
Distinguished Conduct Medals, but many more
have earned them, for it has been impossible to
bring every case to notice. Tell the women that
proud as I am to have such soldiers under my
command, they should be prouder still to be
near and dear relations to such men.”
About this time the 2nd Highland Light
Infantry lost a gallant young officer in Sir
Archibald Gibson-Craig. He bravely offered to
.pn +1 // Page 327.png
lead his platoon against a German machine gun
that was doing considerable damage amongst
our men. At the head of his Highlanders he
fell, but the gun was taken, and another hero
added to the long list of those who counted death
less than life. Upon the same day Private
Wilson of the same battalion won the V.C. for
capturing, single-handed, a German machine gun
and killing six of the enemy. Very fortunate
have the 2nd H.L.I. been, and very richly have
they deserved such honours. Upon November 11,
for relieving a dangerous situation, Captain Brodie
of the same regiment was awarded the V.C.
In October Lieutenant Brooke of the 2nd
Gordon Highlanders was awarded the Victoria
Cross for gallantry, and Drummer Kenny of the
2nd Gordons the V.C. for rescuing wounded men
under fire.
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle has truly said that
“from October 25 to the second week in November
Sir John French and Sir Douglas Haig were like
engineers holding up a dam of water visibly
giving way.” The great German advance towards
Calais established the most critical situation of
the war, and the ultimate success of our troops
at the battle of Ypres, when 150,000 British and
Indians withstood 600,000 Germans, will some day
be proclaimed as the most brilliant achievement
in our military history.
In the first great battle at Ypres the Highland
regiments were supported by their comrade
battalions of the Territorials. In this desperate
rush for Calais, when the Germans came flocking
.pn +1 // Page 328.png
onwards like ants upon the side of a hill, when
opposed to them was an army vastly inferior in
numbers, things looked desperate indeed. The
headquarters of General Haig were blown up,
and when General French reached the British
lines a retirement of four miles had taken place.
He motored from one spot to another, propping
up, as it were, this heroic handful of men.
The British fought doggedly, watching their
regiments rent to tatters, calling up every
man, even the cooks, to take a hand. Cavalry
and infantry, officers and men fought till they
could fight no more. But the tide was turning,
and when night fell upon the 31st of October the
grand attack was beaten off. Of the losses of
our soldiers and our brave Highlanders some
estimate may be made by the casualties of
individual regiments, one of which entered the
battle with 1100 men and came out with only
73, and another which numbered 1350 returned
only 300 strong.
On November 15 the Prussian Guard, the
finest body of men in the German army, advanced
under the eyes of the Kaiser to wrench the road
to Calais from the British. They were met by
the English Guards, by the hard-fighting Highlanders,
by the English fine regiments, by Irishmen,
Welshmen, and our gallant Indian soldiers—and
they were held until their dead lay eight
deep.
These actions at Ypres were costly in casualties—50,000
out of 120,000; they were beyond all
price in glory and honour.
.pn +1 // Page 329.png
The coming of winter, and the construction of
trenches, brought with it a state of stalemate
that was to last without a decisive offensive until
the spring of 1915.
During those long dreary months we were not
idle. Our new armies were in hard training,
our war manufactories were making equipment,
but unfortunately not enough shells, and our
Navy was carrying on its imperishable vigil
upon the sea, and under the sea, without which
our Empire would cease to exist and our Army
would be cut off by twenty miles of water.
.sp 2
The Highland regiments settled down with
their customary fortitude to the weary months of
trench warfare, months that brought daily losses
in officers and men, bitter cold, and ceaseless
rain, while overhead screamed and broke the
German shell fire.
Never have troops been called upon to endure
such a prolonged strain. On land and on sea,
in patience and good temper, our soldiers and
sailors held on without a murmur.
Of the actual fighting there is little to tell, for
little is known. The monotony of trench warfare
was broken by occasional frays and night attacks.
A Seaforth writes on October 20: “We were
digging trenches when we heard a volley of rifle
fire come right over us, and we got the order to
stand to arms and advance. Their trenches
were situated in a row on a rise in a field, and
we could not get our range on them. In a minute
the signal to charge went, and we all scrambled
.pn +1 // Page 330.png
up the hill to get at them. The first to get up
was one company officer, and he was hit. We
all dived into their trenches at the point of their
rifles, shooting and stabbing, and then came the
onslaught. Some of them were too terrified to
get out, whilst others rushed out and were shot
down, and the remainder sought refuge in a house....
About fifty surrendered. I am proud to
say that we were only one company. I shall never
forget that charge as long as I live. The General
said, ‘Bravo, Seaforths! It was a grand charge.’”
A Frenchman has recorded his impressions of
a Highland regiment taking part in an advance.
“Resolutely,” he writes, “they crossed what had
seemed impossible ground. They seemed to do
it, too, without sustaining very much loss, and
fixing bayonets, they made straight for the
German gunners. They charged to the shrill
sound of the bagpipes. They charged like heroes
of Walter Scott, with their ribboned bonnets
and their dancers’ skirts. Neither ditch nor
barbed wire could stop them. Their dash carried
them right into the midst of the Prussian batteries.
Shooting the gunners at their posts, they rendered
the guns unserviceable, and having completed
their daring mission, prepared to retire.”
The French Nord de la France is no less
emphatic in its praise. “The British soldier,” it
says, speaking of an advance of the Highlanders
under a murderous fire, “is wonderful. He is a
slave to duty. For him to retreat he must be
ordered to do so, and these Scotsmen were prepared
to give their lives to the last man.”
.pn +1 // Page 331.png
Speaking of a charge in December a Gordon
Highlander has written: “I reckon it was one of
the fiercest fights that the ‘Gay Gordons’ took
part in, and as usual the good old regiment
covered itself with glory. A certain General and
officers who had witnessed the famous Dargai
charge told us it was ridiculous compared with
that of December 14.”
From January 25 to February 7 the actions at
Givenchy and La Bassée took place, and were
followed by a brief lull, with an outbreak of
fighting at Ypres upon February 14.
On March 10 the operations that were to
develop into the battle of Neuve Chapelle and
St. Eloi commenced. It was the beginning of
the great offensive, which, so long looked for,
was to fail so dismally owing to the need for
shells, and the German use of poisonous gases.
It resulted in the taking of two miles of German
trenches, and the killing and capture
of 8000 of the enemy. In this action our
soldiers drove the enemy from their trenches,
and after heavy losses resisted all attempts to
evict them.
All through the preceding night our troops
had marched to their positions, and with the
breaking of day our artillery began to bombard
the German trenches. A hundred heavy guns
spoke with one prolonged roar, the field guns
joined in, the whole British artillery was concentrated
upon the enemy. No trenches could
stand such a destructive fire.
Forty minutes later the advance began and
.pn +1 // Page 332.png
the village of Neuve Chapelle was carried at the
point of the bayonet.
It was in the rush upon the trenches that
the Middlesex, faced by unbroken barbed wire,
were mown down in scores and hundreds.
Helplessly they tore at the entanglement—in
silence they died rather than retreat.
Following that came the attack upon the
German position, and in this advance were the
2nd Gordon Highlanders and their Territorial
battalion the 6th. It was in this action that
Lieutenant-Colonel Maclean of the 6th Gordons
lost his life. To a subaltern who went to his
assistance he said, “Thank you, and now, my
boy, your place is not here. Go about your duty.”
The battle of Neuve Chapelle was finely conceived,
and more finely carried out. Most unfortunately,
owing to the lack of reserves at
the height of the engagement, the full force of
the attack was spent too soon.
.sp 2
The story of how the Canadians fought and
died at the second battle of Ypres upon April
22, and how the comrade regiment of the Royal
Highlanders brought immortal honour to the
North, is a tale of four days’ heroism against
unnatural and horrible odds.
Mr. J. Huntley Skrine has written somewhere:
.pm verse-start
Sons in my gates of the West,
Where the long tides foam in the dark of the pine,
And the cornlands crowd to the dim sky-line,
And wide as the air are the meadows of kine,
What cheer from my gates of the West?
.pm verse-end
.pn +1 // Page 333.png
What indeed! Nothing less than death rather
than defeat. Whatever the Canadians might be,
they were not veteran soldiers. The Canadian
Division numbered doctors, lawyers, farmers, with
a sprinkling of men who had seen service in the
South African War. Let us see how they faced
the German onslaught.
The use of asphyxiating gas compelled the
French, who held the left of the Canadians,
to retire. In consequence of this the Canadian
left flank was moved southward. During the
night the Canadians carried a wood in the
teeth of heavy machine-gun fire, continuing the
conflict till dawn. In the morning, to relieve
their left they launched a counter attack upon
the German trenches. Over the open space the
Canadian battalions rushed. Colonel Burchill,
the commanding officer, fell at the head of his
men, and with a shout of rage they reached the
trenches, and drove the enemy out. Our Colonials
had not merely preserved their left—they had
pierced the German line.
Upon the same day a new cloud of gas reached
the Canadian Highlanders. It is recorded that
they remained unshaken. But their very
bravery sealed their fate. The Germans slipped
across their left and isolated the wood from
St. Julien. In this wood the remnants of
the Canadian battalions, disdaining surrender,
fought to the last round and the last man. The
gallantry of the officers of the Royal Highlanders
of Montreal was wonderful—so magnificent as
to call forth the highest praise. The name of
.pn +1 // Page 334.png
Canada rang throughout the Empire. In a
moment of awful peril she had sacrificed her
bravest for the sake of Britain.
In the Canadian retreat not a gun was lost.
.sp 2
Upon May 9 it is recorded that the 1st Black
Watch got the order to advance upon the German
trenches. Already several attempts to carry
them had failed. The English soldiers helped
them upon the parapets of our trenches and
wished them good luck. Bayonets were already
fixed, the pipers struck up the famous tune,
‘Highland Laddie.’ That was the first time in
the war in which the 42nd had charged with their
pipes. There was only 300 yards to go, but
it is said that ere that distance was covered
the sound of the pipes was hushed in death.
The grand old regiment cleared the Germans out
of their trenches, and held them for long in the
face of a heavy artillery attack, only withdrawing
upon an order from the General. The following
extracts are taken from the enemy’s Press:
The Frankfurter Zeitung, after describing the
French attack on May 9, says: “Then the
British came into action with tremendous fierceness.
They would break through, cost what it
might. They attacked in three lines. The front
regiment was mowed down by our fearful fire,
and the following regiment, under a terrible
hail from the guns, was unable to advance. Then
the British sent one of their best Highland
regiments to the front, the best they have anywhere.
The Black Watch advanced. The
.pn +1 // Page 335.png
gallant Scots came on, but even their really
heroic bravery was in vain, for they were not
able to turn the fate of the day.”
The Deutsche Tageszeitung says: “The
British advanced with extraordinary force. They
had in action about a division, and called upon
them to advance in three lines. After the first
line had been thrown back with fearful losses,
the second line could not advance. The élite
regiment, the Scottish Black Watch, was called
forward, and bled to death without having
obtained anything. Two men actually reached
our breastworks, and had to lie in front of them
from five in the evening until six the next morning
before we could look after them.”
Between May and July there was no sustained
activity upon the Western Front, but on many
other parts of the Allies’ vast campaign the
ceaseless struggle proceeded. Italy was pressing
onwards towards the Austrian line while Sir Ian
Hamilton was endeavouring to retrieve the initial
blunder at the Dardanelles. Russia was fighting
tooth and nail her amazing rearguard action,
retreating victoriously, relinquishing at a terrible
cost territory already stripped and barren. It
was the beginning of the great retreat. Warsaw
fell upon August 5, and a month later the Czar
took over the supreme command, and the Grand
Duke Nicholas left for the Caucasus.
In July came the news of our first great
British victory, a victory the more welcome as
it was won by General Botha, whose strategical
skill and courage we had learned to admire in
.pn +1 // Page 336.png
the Boer War. Despite the plotting of De Wet
and Beyers, Kemp and Maritz, Botha had overcome
disloyalty amongst the dissatisfied burghers,
and followed it up by the complete rout of the
Germans in South-West Africa.
.sp 2
With the month of August one year of bloodshed
was reached, and looking over the wide
field of hostilities there were those who asked
what had been accomplished in return for precious
lives lost upon a hundred fields of strife.
Our casualties numbered 330,000, while the loss
of life amongst our brave Allies had been
enormous. Russia was no nearer Berlin than
at the commencement of the war, France was
no nearer the frontier of Belgium, England had
not stormed the Dardanelles.
On the other hand, the Allied Armies were
growing stronger, and the German armies weaker;
the scales were turning. Time was upon the side
of the Allies, and the greatest victory of the past
year was won by no array of arms, but by the
sleepless vigilance of the British Navy. It was
a struggle between an invincible Army and an
invincible Navy, and unless some unforeseen
catastrophe overwhelmed the Allied Armies the
issue lay in the hands of Great Britain.
.sp 2
To return to the Highland regiments, there
were many individual acts of heroism during those
summer months that should be recorded.
On May 9 the Black Watch won two V.C.’s
for magnificent bravery under fire—Private John
Lynn working a machine gun until he was overcome
.pn +1 // Page 337.png
by gas poisoning, to which he fell a victim,
and Corporal John Bridley leading a few
Highlanders against the enemy’s trenches, and
maintaining his position.
Upon June 12 at Givenchy, Lance-Corporal
William Angus of the Highland Light Infantry
won the V.C. for rescuing a wounded officer under
heavy fire, sustaining some forty wounds from
bombs.
In the middle of June at Hooge, the Liverpool
Scottish, a Territorial battalion second to none,
advanced against the German trenches, supported
by the H.A.C. The plan of attack was that the
Scottish should take the first line of German
trenches, and leaving the H.A.C. to hold them
should advance upon the second line. Following
the cannonade of our guns, the Scottish leapt over
the parapets and charged into the curtain of smoke.
The first trench was carried without a halt, the
second fell immediately after, and pausing to
take a breath the battalion captured the third
after severe fighting, and faced the fourth. This,
too, was carried. What need for comment when
words are blinded by achievement!
Many gallant men fell, including Captain
Graham, the great amateur golfer. Unhappily
a sorrowful toll of lives must ever be the fruit of
bravery and self-sacrifice.
.sp 2
It is difficult where heroism has become a
commonplace, and courage inseparable from the
nature of the task that lies behind us and in the
future, to conclude this chapter and this book upon
.pn +1 // Page 338.png
a note at once comprehensive and mature, a note
that will not sound dim when other tales are told,
nor sufficiently local to be overshadowed by some
vast offensive.
With the battle of Festubert certainly one, and
perhaps two stories of Scottish heroism will, in
my opinion, be for ever sacred in Scottish hearts.
Nothing could be more forlorn, more Celtic
in tragedy than the tale of the 4th Cameron
Highlanders, whose night attack was checked by
a deep ditch full of water. Some swam across,
many sank never to rise again, but the battalion
passed on. In the black darkness they struggled
on, undaunted. A desolating fire raked their
ranks. One company was annihilated, another
was hopelessly lost, a third took a German
trench. But the battalion was cut off. No
machine guns could cross the stream to their
support, and in the grey dawn the situation for the
Gaelic remnant grew intolerable. The company
in the German trench were forced to retire under
a heavy fire. Colonel Fraser and twelve other
officers had fallen. But that single company
of Camerons were unbroken. Sergeant-Major
Ross it was who gathered the remnants to him
and brought them safely across the zone of
fire. Never has a more hopeless withdrawal
faced a British force. Never has a finer fortitude
awaited it.
Again, in the British advance a detachment
of the Scots Guards lost touch with the
main body, and were surrounded. Admirably
has Mr. John Buchan spoken of their end. “For
.pn +1 // Page 339.png
them,” he says, “as for the steel circle around
the King at Flodden, there could be no retreat.
When, some days later, we took the place we
found the Guards lying on the field of honour
with swaths of the enemy’s dead around them.
The history of war can show no more noble
ending.”
It is with such pictures as these that I would
close this chapter, pictures of courage and self-sacrifice
unsurpassed in the story of our regiments.
Whatever the future may hold, one thing is
certain—victory must always greet men inspired
by a cause that is at once noble and just.
.pm verse-start
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light;
In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly!
But westward, look the land is bright.
.pm verse-end
.fn #
Behind the Scenes at the Front (Chatto & Windus), by George Adams.
.fn-
.pn +1 // Page 340.png
// Page 341.png
.sp 4
.h2 id=index title='Index'
INDEX
// Page 342.png
.pn +1
.sp 2
.pn +1
.ix
Abercrombie, General Sir James, #17#, #20#, #22#, #25#
Abercromby, General Sir Ralph, #66#, #72#, #74#
Aboukir, #71#, #213#
Abraham, Plains of, #28#, #31#
Abu Hamid, #226#
Acre, #71#
Aisne, battle of the, #295#, #297#, #298#
Alexandria, #73#, #78#
Alison, General Sir Archibald, #44#, #180#, #182#, #184#, #214#
Allan, Captain, #284#
Alliance, La Belle, #123#
Alma, battle of the, #133#.
See Chapter #XIV:chap14#.
Almeida, fortress of, #93#
Alost, #66#
Alumbagh, the, #167#
Amherst, General, #25#, #28#, #31#
Amiens, Peace of, #79#
Angus, Lance-Corporal William, #309#
Anson, General, #146#
Arabi Bey, #212#, #216#
Arcot, #57#
Assaye, #61#
Atbara, River, #229#, #231#
Austerlitz, #82#
Austrian Succession, War of, #10#
Badajoz, #95#
Baines, Major-General, #111#
Baird, Sir David, #84#, #88#
Baird, Major-General, #59#
Baker, General, #195#, #196#, #198#, #222#
Baker, Sir Samuel, #218#
Balaclava, #137#
Bareilly, #175#, #176#
Barnard, General, #146#
Becke, Captain, #115#
Benson, Major, #256#
Beresford, General, #91#, #99#, #101#
Bergen-op-Zoom, #16#
Berlin Treaty, #189#
// Page 343.png
Bidassoa, River, #98#
Birkenhead, the, #205#, #206#
Bloemfontein, #268#, #269#, #274#, #277#, #278#
Blücher, Marshal, #10#, #107#, #112#, #113#
Boquet, Colonel Henry, #38#, #40#
Botha, General, #244#, #284#, #307#
Boulogne, #80#, #293#
Bradford, Colonel, #297#
Brandy Wine River, #52#
Branston, Major, #165#
Brest, #81#
Bridley, Corporal John, #308#
Brodie, Captain, #299#
Brooke, Lieutenant, #299#
Bruce, Captain, #259#
Buchan, John, #310#
Bugeaud, Marshal, #115#
Buller, General Sir Redvers, #180#, #264#, #266#, #268#, #271#, #273#, #284#
Burchill, Colonel, #305#
Burgos, battle of, #97#
Burgoyne, General, #53#, #54#
Burgoyne, Captain, #174#
Burleigh, Master of, #294#
Burrows, General, #200#
Busaco, #92#
Cadogan, Colonel, #93#, #98#
Calcutta, Black Hole of, #57#
Cambridge, Duke of, #172#
Cameron, Major-General Alan, #92#
Cameron, Colonel John, #108#, #109#, #111#, #176#
Campbell, Sir Colin, #44#, #97#, #127#-134;
at Balaclava, #135#-141;
Lucknow, #159#-177
Canning, Lord, #172#
Cape Colony (added to British Empire), #205#
Carnatic, Nawab of the, #61#
Castile, fortress of, #95#
Cato Street Conspiracy, #126#
Cavagnari, Major, #193#, #194#, #196#, #202#
// Page 344.png
.pn +1
Cawnpore, massacre of, #150#;
taken by British, #155#;
relief of, #172#
Cecil, Lord, #231#
Cetewayo, #207#
Chamberlain, Sir Neville, #189#
Champlain, Samuel de, #20#
Charasiah, #194#;
battle won, #196#
Charles Edward, Prince, #3#, #9#, #182#
Charlestown, #54#
Cherokee Indians, #34#, #35#, #36#, #38#
Chieveley Camp, #266#
Chitral, see Chapter #XXIII:chap23#.
Churchill, Winston, #280#
Ciudad Rodrigo, #95#
Clinton, General Sir Henry, #101#
Clive, Robert (Lord), #56#, #142#
Colenso, battle of, #266#
Colley, General Sir George, #208#, #209#, #210#
Colville, General, #95#, #276#
Conan Doyle, Sir Arthur, #251#, #252#, #257#, #272#, #274#, #299#
Coomassie, #178#, #180#, #183#, #185#
Cornwallis, General (Lord), #52#, #54#, #57#
Corunna, #87#
Cotton, Sidney, #144#
Craufurd, General, #87#
Crimean War, the, see Chapters #XIV.:chap14# and #XV.:chap15#
Cronje, General, #251#, #252#, #269#
Culloden, #3#, #16#
Cumberland, William Augustus, Duke of, #3#, #11#, #16#
Dardanelles, #73#, #307#
Dargai, see Chapter #XXIII.:chap23#
Delagoa Bay, #282#
Delhi, #145#, #146#, #147#, #148#, #149#
Dettingen, #13#, #27#
De Wet, General, #244#, #278#, #282#, #285#, #307#
Dick-Cunyngham, Colonel, #197#, #272#
Dingaan, #206#
Dingwall, Lieutenant, #239#
Dongola Expedition, the, #228#
Duff, Grant-, Colonel, #296#
Dundas, General, #67#
Dundas, Henry (Viscount Melville), #72#
Dundonald, Lord, #273#
Dupleix, Joseph, #142#
Duquesne, Fort, #24#, #25#
Earle, Major-General, #225#, #226#
East India Company, #56#, #142#
Elandslaagte, #248#
// Page 345.png
Elba, Isle of, #104#, #105#
El-Teb, #222#
Ewart, Colonel, #165#
Farquhar, Lieutenant, #60#
Festubert, battle of, #310#
Findlater, Piper, #239#
Fitchett, W. H., #86#, #102#, #124#, #146#
Fontenoy, #11#, #22#
Forbes, Archibald, #67#
Forbes, Brigadier-General John, #24#
Fortescue, Hon. John, #59#, #68#, #168#
Foudroyant, the, #77#
Fraser, Colonel, #310#
Fraser, General Simon, #53#
French, General Sir John, #248#, #269#, #281#, #284#, #295#, #299#, #300#
Fuentes de Oñoro, #91#, #92#
Gardyne, Colonel, #239#
Gatacre, General, #229#, #230#, #264#, #265#, #266#
George III., #45#
Gibson-Craig, Sir Archibald, #298#
Givenchy, #303#, #309#
Gladstone, William E., #225#
Goodall, Captain, #60#
Gordon, General Charles, #219#, #220#, #224#, #226#
Gordon, Captain, #284#
Graham, General, #97#
Graham, Sir Gerald, #222#, #225#
Graham, Captain John, #276#, #309#
Grant, General Hope, #171#
Grant, Lieutenant, #22#
Grant, Major James, #24#, #47#
Granville, Lord, #225#
Graspan, #251#
Green, Colonel, #226#
Grouchy, Marshal, #114#, #115#, #120#
Haig, General Sir Douglas, #299#, #300#
Hamilton, General Sir Ian, #209#, #271#, #272#, #278#, #281#, #307#
Hamilton, Colonel, #154#
Hamley, General, #216#, #217#
Hardinge, Captain, #88#, #89#
Hastings, Warren, #57#, #61#
Havelock, General Sir Henry, #150#-167
Hay, Lord Charles, #12#
Hicks, Colonel, #219#
Hills, General, #200#
Honours, Battle—Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, #177#;
Black Watch, #7#;
Cameron Highlanders, #104#;
Gordon Highlanders, #113#;
// Page 346.png
.pn +1
Highland Light Infantry, #62#;
Seaforth Highlanders, #203#
Hooge, #309#
Hope, Brigadier Adrian, death of, #176#
Hope, General Sir John, #84#, #88#
Hougoumont, #117#, #119#
Howe, General, #50#, #51#, #52#, #53#
Hunter, General Sir Archibald, #229#
Hutchinson, General, #78#
Importation Act, #46#
Independence, Declaration of, #47#
Indian Mutiny, see Chapters #XVI.:chap16# and #XVII.:chap17#
Inglis, General Sir John, #159#
Isandhlwana, #207#
Jacobite Rebellion, #9#
Jameson, Dr., #242#
Jardyne, Colonel, #239#
Jenkins’ Ear, battle of, #9#
Jones, Brigadier-General John, #176#
Joubert, General, #207#, #244#
Kabul, #188#, #192#, #193#, #194#;
Roberts’ entry into, #196#;
re-entry, #200#
Kandahar, #189#, #200#
Kassassin, #213#
Kavanagh, #164#
Kenny, Drummer, #299#
Khalifa, city of the, #228#
Khartoum, #225#
Khyber Pass, #189#
Kimberley, #250#, #264#, #268#, #269#, #276#
Kinglake, Alexander, #129#, #131#, #140#
Kipling, Rudyard, #192#
Kirbekan, #225#
Kitchener of Khartoum, Horatio Herbert (Lord), #213#, #220#, #227#, #231#, #245#, #267#, #286#, #292#
Knyphausen, General, #52#
Koffi Calcalli, #179#, #181#, #183#
Kruger, Paul, #207#, #211#, #242#, #244#, #246#, #280#, #282#, #284#
La Bassée, #303#
Ladysmith, #250#, #264#, #266#, #268#, #270#, #271#, #272#, #273#
Laing’s Nek, #207#
Lawrence, Sir Henry, #147#, #149#;
death of, #152#
Liége, #292#
Ligny, battle of, #112#
Lockhart, Sir William, #237#, #240#
Loudon, Fort, #36#, #38#
// Page 347.png
Louis XV., #9#
Louis XVIII., #104#, #106#
Louisburg, #24#, #27#
Louvain, #289#
Lovat, Lord, #34#
Low, General Sir Robert, #235#, #236#
Lucknow, capture of, #175#
Lusitania, wreck of the, #289#
Lynn, Private John, #308#
Lytton, Lord, #188#, #189#
M’Bean, Colonel, #210#
Macbean, Major, #239#
M’Carthy, Sir Charles, #179#
M’Donald, Donald, #49#
Macdonald, Flora, #50#
Macdonald, General Sir Hector, #232#, #274#, #285#
Macdonald, John, #220#
Maclean, Lieutenant-Colonel, #304#
Macpherson, Major, of Cluny, #181#
Macpherson, General, #198#
Maestricht, #16#, #112#
Mafeking, #250#, #264#
Magersfontein, #254#, #261#, #262#, #266#
Mahdi (see Mohammed Ahmed), #219#, #221#, #227#
Mahmoud, #229#, #230#
Mahon, Lord, #53#
Maiwand, #200#
Majuba Hill, #205#, #207#, #208#, #209#
Malakand Pass, #236#
Marne, battle of the, #295#, #297#, #298#
Martello towers, #80#
Massena, General, #92#, #93#, #94#
Mathias, Colonel, #239#
Maubeuge, #124#
Mayflower, the, #10#
Meerut, #144#, #145#
Meiklejohn, Captain, #248#, #249#
Methuen, Lord, #250#, #251#, #254#, #255#, #262#, #263#, #266#
Middelburg, #284#
Milner, Sir Alfred (Lord), #243#
Modder River, battle of, #251#, #254#
Mohammed Ahmed (see also Mahdi), #219#
Moira, Lord, #66#
Mons, #124#, #293#, #294#
Montcalm, Marquis de, #18#, #21#, #29#, #30#
Montgomery, Colonel, #34#, #35#, #38#
Mont St. Jean, #116#, #117#
Moore, General Sir John, #73#, #84#, #87#, #88#, #89#
Morgan, Colonel, #53#
Müffling, von, General, #115#
Munro, Captain John, #13#
// Page 348.png
.pn +1
Munro, Sir Robert (of Fowlis), #14#, #15#
Murray, General, #31#
Murray, Major, #50#
Mysore, #58#
Mysore, Tiger of (see Tippoo Sahib), #57#
Nana Sahib, #149#, #153#, #167#
Namur, #292#
Napier, Sir William, #85#, #89#, #96#, #116#
Napoleon I., Emperor of the French, #57#, #70#, #72#, #80#, #81#, #85#;
at Isle of Elba, #104#;
leaves Elba, #106#;
at Waterloo, #115#;
at St. Helena, #125#
Natal, #247#, #250#
Nelson, Horatio (Lord), #71#, #81#
Neuve Chapelle, #295#, #303#, #304#
Newbolt, Sir Henry, #194#
Ney, Marshal, #109#, #110#, #114#, #122#
Nicholas, Grand Duke, #307#
Nicholson, John, #65#, #144#, #147#;
death of, #148#
Nicholson’s Nek, battle of, #250#
Nieuport, #66#
Nightingale, Florence, #136#
Nile, battle of the, #71#
Nimeguen, #66#
Nivelle, River, #99#
Noyes, Alfred, #288#
Ohio Indians, #41#
Ontario, Fort, #18#
Orleans, Isle of, #27#
Orthez, #99#
Outram, General Sir James, #151#, #159#, #162#, #166#, #175#
Pack, Sir Denis, #100#, #101#, #119#, #120#
Paris, Treaty of, #41#
Paton, Sergeant John, V.C., #166#
Peace Congress (at Vienna), #105#
Peiwar Kotal, #192#, #202#
Persian Campaign, #151#
Picton, General Sir Thomas, #95#, #101#, #118#
Pieter’s Hill, #273#
Pitt, William, the Elder, #3#, #7#, #9#, #47#
Pitt, William, the Younger, #71#, #82#
Pittsburg, #25#
Plassey, battle of, #57#
Pondicherry, #56#
Pretoria, #206#, #242#, #278#, #282#
Prideaux, General, #25#
Primrose, General, #200#
Prinsloo, capture of, #286#
// Page 349.png
Ptolemies, palace of the, #75#
Pyrenees, campaign of the, #98#
Quatre Bras, battle of, #90#, #103#, #111#, #117#
Raglan, Lord, #133#
Reform Bill, the, #126#
Roberts, Frederick Sleigh (Lord), #32#, #144#, #168#;
at Afghanistan, #189#, #193#, #195#, #197#, #201#, #267#, #268#, #270#, #274#, #278#, #284#, #286#
Rorke’s Drift, #207#
Ross, Sergeant-Major, #310#
Russell, Dr., #173#
St. Eloi, #303#
St. Helena, #125#
Salamanca, #96#
Salisbury, Lord, #188#
San Michael, #96#, #97#
San Sebastian, #98#
Saratoga, Springs of, #53#;
Heights of, #54#
Saxe, Marshal, #11#, #12#, #14#, #16#
Schiel, Colonel, #248#, #249#
Scott, Sir Walter, #156#, #291#, #302#
Scottish, Liverpool, #309#
Seaforth, Earl of, #44#
Secundrabagh, #163#, #164#, #165#
Seringapatam, #58#, #60#
Sevastopol, #133#;
siege of, #135#;
fall of, #141#
Shere Ali, #187#, #188#;
death of, #192#
Sherpur, #199#
Skrine, J. Huntley, #304#
Smith, Sir Sydney, #71#
Smith-Dorrien, General Sir H., #283#, #298#
Soignes, Forest of, #110#, #117#
Soult, Marshal, #84#, #85#, #99#, #100#, #103#
Spion Kop, #268#
Stamp Act, #46#
Stanley, Sir Henry, #180#, #181#, #184#
Steevens, G. W., #229#, #233#
Stewart, Colonel, #75#
Stewart, General, of Garth, #5#, #36#
Stormberg, #264#, #265#
Strange, Major Bland, #235#
Suakin, #222#
Sullivan, General, #52#
Symons, General Penn, #246#
Tait, Lieutenant F. G., #259#, #260#, #274#, #275#
Talana Hill, #247#
Tamai, battle of, #222#
Tel-el-Kebir, #213#;
battle won, #216#
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Theresa, Maria, #10#
Ticonderoga, #20#, #25#
Tippoo Sahib, #57#, #58#, #60#
Torres Vedras, #92#
Toulon, #81#
Toulouse, battle of, #99#, #100#, #103#
Towse, Captain, #279#, #280#
Trafalgar, battle of, #80#, #81#
Trevelyan, G. O., #143#, #150#, #154#
Tugela River, #266#, #268#
Ulm, #82#
Ulundi, battle of, #207#
Umra Khan, #235#, #236#
Uxbridge, Duke of, #113#
Vergennes, French Ambassador, #41#
Victoria, Queen, #127#, #172#, #231#, #243#
Vimiera, #127#
Vittoria, #97#
Wade, Marshal, #11#
Walcheren Expedition, the, #127#
Walpole, General, #175#, #176#
Warsaw, #307#
Washington, George, #24#, #48#, #49#, #51#, #52#, #53#
Washington, Fort, #50#
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Waterloo, battle of, #90#, #103#, #124#
Wauchope, General, #254#, #256#, #258#, #259#
Wellesley, Arthur (Duke of Wellington), #58#, #83#
Wellington, Duke of, #91#, #96#, #97#, #100#, #107#, #109#, #111#;
at Waterloo, #116#, #117#, #125#
Wheeler, Major-General Sir Hugh, #150#, #169#
White, General Sir George, #178#, #195#, #246#, #270#, #273#
William Henry, Fort, #18#
Wilson, Sir Charles, #225#
Wilson, Sir Robert, #74#
Wilson, Private, #299#
Wolfe, General, #24#, #25#, #26#, #27#, #28#, #29#, #30#
Wolseley, Garnet Joseph (Lord), #139#, #165#, #178#, #180#, #183#, #185#, #212#, #213#, #216#, #225#
Wood, General Sir Evelyn, #180#, #208#, #211#
Yakub Khan, #193#
York, Duke of, #66#
Yorktown, #54#
Younger, Captain, death of, #284#
Ypres, #121#, #291#, #299#, #300#, #304#
Yusef Pasha, #219#
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.sp 4
THE END
.sp 2
Printed by R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh.
// Page 353.png
// Page 354.png
.sp 4
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
MUCKLE
JOHN
CONTAINING 8 FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS
IN COLOUR BY ALLAN STEWART
Large Crown 8vo. Price 3/6 Cloth.
“Frederick Watson has a special capacity for the creation of
incident. It is not only inexhaustible—it is unremitting. It
never lets the interest drop for a page, or for an instant....
The name of Fraser having been mentioned is the cue for an
introduction of another Fraser. No other than Simon Lord
Lovat.... But the character, though little more than a thumbnail
sketch, will live in every memory in the same manner as we
make acquaintance for life with Sir Walter Scott’s Louis the
Eleventh, and never forget what manner of man he was....
This breathless, but abundantly winning novel is sure to be popular
and successful.”—Sir Edward Russell in the Liverpool Post.
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“Rob is a gallant laddie, and Muckle John a tantalising,
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real name of the Highland robber in the end! But we forgive
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us.”—The Record.
“Just the right thing for young people. It is charged with
adventure, treachery, and excitement.... Muckle John is a fine,
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by exceptional coloured illustrations by Mr. Allan Stewart.”—Daily
News.
A. & C. BLACK, LTD. · 4, 5 & 6 SOHO SQUARE · LONDON · W.
.sp 4
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Footnotes
.fm lz=h rend=no
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.dv class='tnotes'
Transcriber’s Notes:
Missing or obscured punctuation was corrected.
Typographical errors were silently corrected.
Spelling and hyphenation were made consistent when a predominant
form was found in this book; otherwise it was not changed.
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