CHAPTER XXX.

“To leave thee behind me my heart is sair pain’d,

But by ease that’s inglorious no fame can be gain’d;

And beauty and love’s the reward of the brave,

And I maun deserve it before I can crave.”

INDIA—GIBRALTAR—CEYLON—1777–1798.

Whilst the American continent was the scene of a sanguinary and bitter strife, the embers of war were being quickened into flame in another and far distant province of our vast colonial empire. In India the usurpation of Hyder Ali had occasioned the interference of the British, awakening the ill-disguised hatred of the native race against the grasping policy of the British, whose cupidity had already appropriated much of their native land, and whose avarice was only too ready to embrace any farther opportunity for aggrandisement. The incendiaries of France had been busy sowing the seeds of jealousy and distrust of the British rule, which soon produced its malignant fruits in the cruel and remorseless war that ensued. Thus encircled and assailed by enemies from so many quarters at once, our Government, in its dire extremity, called upon the patriotism of the country to supply the means of defence. The result was most satisfactory; and in no case did the appeal receive a more cordial response than amongst our clansmen, from whence were drawn, in the course of eighteen months, upwards of 12,500 Highlanders. From the following list of the regiments raised in 1778 to meet this emergency, the subject of our present sketch may be selected:—

72d Regiment, or Royal Manchester Volunteers,disbanded in 1783.
73d Highland Regiment,numbered the 71stRegiment in 1786.
74th Highland Regiment,disbanded in 1784.
75th Prince of Wales’ Regiment,disbanded in 1783.
76th Highland Regiment,disbanded in 1784.
77th Regiment, or Athole Highlanders,disbanded in 1783.
78th Highland Regiment,numbered the 72dRegiment in 1786.
79th Regiment, or Royal Liverpool Volunteers,disbanded in 1784.
80th Regiment, or Royal Edinburgh Volunteers,disbanded in 1784.
81st Highland Regiment,disbanded in 1783.
82d Regiment,disbanded in 1784.
83d Regiment, or Royal Glasgow Volunteers,disbanded in 1783.

The Earl of Cromarty and his son, Lord MʻLeod, having been partners in the guilt of rebellion in 1745, were made partners in the punishment which followed. At length pardoned, Lord MʻLeod was permitted to pass into honourable exile. He found employment in the Swedish army, where he rose to the rank of Lieutenant-General. Opportunely venturing to return, he was unexpectedly received with much favour by the King, and his offer to raise a Highland regiment on his forfeited estates gladly accepted. His success was worthy of his zeal; and at Elgin, in 1778, he appeared at the head of a magnificent corps of 840 Highlanders, 236 Lowlanders, and 34 English and Irish, which were accordingly regimented as the Seventy-third, afterwards our Seventy-first Regiment. The success of this corps induced the formation of a second battalion, which soon attained its complement. Although styled the “Glasgow Highland Light Infantry,” that western metropolis can boast no legitimate claim to an interest in its formation beyond the thirty-four English and Irish recruits, who, it is said, hailed from Glasgow. It acquired the property, at a later period, when a second battalion was being grafted upon the parent stem, when many of its citizens enlisting, manifested so strong a predilection in its favour, as induced the government to confer the present title, and ever since the Glasgowegians have proudly adopted the Seventy-first as their own.

Almost immediately on its completion, the first battalion was embarked for India. Landing at Madras in 1780, it became the nucleus for the Highland Brigade, which the subsequent and successive arrival of the Seventy-second, Seventy-third, Seventy-fourth, Seventy-fifth, and Ninety-fourth Highland regiments constituted. These earned distinctions for gallant service almost exceptional to themselves. It is worthy of note—eliciting our surprise, yet reflecting infinite credit on our arms—that notwithstanding the insignificance of the British force, opposed to the countless hosts of the Indian chiefs—generally as one to ten—we almost always prevailed. Had the native pride been less rampant, and the Indian chiefs submitted to the superior generalship of the French officers sent out to discipline their troops—wherein was admirable material for good soldiers—the danger to the British would have been greater, and success more exceptional. Fortunately for us, the incapacity of these sable chiefs to command, and their exceeding fear of dictation, lost them many an opportunity, and in the end proved our safety. It is strangely true of the Indian soldier that, in the field, when well led, he behaves with the utmost firmness, whilst, in defence of fortifications or walled towns, he betrays a weakness which altogether belies any favourable impression of his resolution previously formed. Notwithstanding the overwhelming superiority of the enemy who, under Hyder Ali, threatened annihilation to the small force of 4600 men, including the first battalion of the Seventy-third (as we must as yet call the Seventy-first), these, under Major-General Sir Hector Munro, dared to advance into the interior. Meanwhile, a division of 3000 men, under Lieut.-Colonel Baillie, descending from the north, strove to effect a junction with the army of General Munro. The hesitation of the latter, when in presence of the foe, to prosecute his advance, and secure his junction with the former, placed the small force of Colonel Baillie in a position of peril. This opportunity, vigorously improved by Hyder Ali, occasioned its destruction, which, with two companies of the Seventy-third, and other troops under Lieut.-Colonel Fletcher, had, despite the treachery of the guides, threaded their way through the jungle, and arrived as a reinforcement from Major-General Munro, but in reality as so many more victims who should be engulfed in the fatal ruin so nigh. The terrible disaster which ensued, and the calamitous result which yielded so many brave men prisoners into the cruel, merciless power of Hyder Ali, can never fail to inspire feelings of the truest sympathy. With a hundred thousand men, he descended with the most sanguinary fury upon this little and devoted column. Even when the whole ammunition was, by an unlucky accident, blown into the air in their very midst, and the British guns silenced, they remained unconquered. The converging hosts of the enemy drew closer around the little band of heroes, and poured in upon them a deadly fire of artillery and musketry, to which they could no longer reply. Reduced to 500 men, “History cannot produce an instance, for fortitude, and intrepidity, and desperate resolution, to equal the exploits of this heroic band.... The mind, in the contemplation of such a scene, and such a situation as theirs was, is filled at once with admiration, with astonishment, with horror, and with awe. To behold formidable and impenetrable bodies of horse, of infantry, and of artillery, advancing from all quarters, flashing savage fury, levelling the numberless instruments of slaughter, and darting destruction around, was a scene to appal even something more than the strongest human resolution; but it was beheld by this little band with the most undaunted and immoveable firmness.... Like the swelling waves of the ocean, however, when agitated by a storm, fresh columns incessantly poured in upon them with redoubled fury, which at length brought so many to the ground, and weakened them so considerably, that they were unable longer to withstand the dreadful and tremendous shock; and the field soon presented a horrid picture of the most inhuman cruelties and unexampled carnage.”[[C]] Happy were those who found on the burning sands of Perambaukam “a soldier’s grave;” happy indeed, compared with the cruel fate of the survivors, who, reduced from 4000, scarce mustered 200 prisoners, nearly all of whom were wounded. Colonel Baillie, stripped, wounded in three places, was dragged into the presence of the victor, who exulted over him with the imperious tone of a conqueror. Baillie replied with the true spirit of a soldier, and soon after died. The remainder, cast into the dungeons of Bangalore, scantily fed on unwholesome food, were doomed to endure a miserable imprisonment for three long years. These trials, however, served only to bring out, in brighter effulgence, the characteristics of the Highland hero. “These brave men,” says General Stewart, “equally true to their religion and their allegiance, were so warmly attached to their officers (amongst whom was one afterwards destined to win a mighty fame as their gallant leader—Sir David Baird), that they picked out the best part of their own food and secretly reserved it for their officers; thus sacrificing their own lives for that of their officers, as the result proved, for out of 111, only 30 feeble and emaciated men ever emerged from that almost living tomb.” Mrs Grant says in her narrative, “Daily some of their companions dropped before their eyes, and daily they were offered liberty and riches in exchange for this lingering torture, on condition of relinquishing their religion and taking the turban. Yet not one could be prevailed upon to purchase life on these terms. These Highlanders were entirely illiterate; scarcely one of them could have told the name of any particular sect of Christians, and all the idea they had of the Mahommedan religion was, that it was adverse to their own, and to what they had been taught by their fathers; and that, adopting it, they would renounce Him who had died that they might live, and who loved them, and could support them in all their sufferings. The great outlines of their religion, the peculiar tenets which distinguish it from any other, were early and deeply impressed on their minds, and proved sufficient in the hour of trial.

[C]. Narrative of the Military Operations on the Coromandel Coast from 1780 to 1784, by Captain Innes Monro, of the Seventy-third Regiment.

‘Rise, Muses rise, add all your tuneful breath;

These must not sleep in darkness and in death.’

“It was not theirs to meet Death in the field of honour; while the mind, wrought up with fervid eagerness, went forth in search of him. They saw his slow approach, and though sunk into languid debility, such as quenches the fire of mere temperament, they never once hesitated at the alternative set before them.”

“Billeted by death, he quarter’d here remained;

When the last trumpet sounds, he’ll rise and march again.”

In 1781, in the army of Lieutenant-General Sir Eyre Coote, the regiment took the field, although sorely weakened by sickness and the sword. After considerable manœuvring on both sides, the two armies confronted each other on the plains of Porto Novo. The British, not amounting to 8000 men, of which the Seventy-third was the only Line regiment, were opposed to a vast host, exceeding 100,000.

Notwithstanding our great inferiority in numbers, the enemy signally failed in every attempt to annihilate, as he imagined, the heroic band who fought beneath the banner of Albion. Discouraged and worn out with these repeated and unavailing assaults, the foe was only too glad to retire and escape from such a vain struggle, where superior numbers could make no impression on bravery and discipline, but only entailed disgrace and defeat. The excellent valour of the regiment on this critical occasion, received the warmest approbation of the Commander-in-chief. Sir Eyre Coote was particularly pleased with the gallantry of one of its pipers, who, amid the hottest of the fire, ceased not to cheer his comrades by the shrill scream of his bag-pipes, which was heard even above the din and roar of battle—so pleased, he exclaimed, “Well done, my brave fellow, you shall have silver pipes when the battle is over,” a promise which he most munificently fulfilled. Sir Eyre Coote always retained a warm interest in, strong attachment to, and confidence in the Highland regiments, which he learned to esteem as the flower of the British army. Having followed up this great victory by a series of further minor successes, the army, reinforced by a body of troops from the Bengal Presidency under Colonel Pearse, anew arrived upon the blood-stained plains of Perambaukam, so pregnant with melancholy associations, and which, yet reeking with the gore of the murdered brave, bore memorials of the disaster which had overtaken so many of their comrades but a year previous; stirred by these painful recollections, our army consecrated the spot to avenge thereon the butchery which had so lately bereaved them of their brethren. The foe, too, were inspired for the fight, but by a very different feeling. Superstition bade them believe their gods propitious to the spot, and, as with them, to give over the British as the victims of a new sacrifice. Thus impelled, it may well be inferred that the struggle was severe and bloody, although, as usual, British prowess triumphed.

To relieve the important fortress of Vellore, our army advanced by the Pass of Sholingur, where it encountered the enemy. A protracted and desperate fight ensued, but nothing could withstand the impetuous and persevering assaults of the British, who ultimately drove the enemy before them. In the spring of 1782, the relief of Vellore was a second time accomplished, despite the strenuous efforts of Hyder Ali to prevent it. The after and unsatisfying inactivity of our army permitted a powerful French force, landed from the fleet of Admiral Suffrein, to effect a junction with the Indian army, and these together succeeded in reducing the important strongholds of Permacoil and Cudalore. These successes, energetically followed up by Hyder Ali, threatened our utter destruction, and brought about the battle of Arnee, in which the Seventy-third was conspicuous under the leadership of Lieutenant-Colonel Elphinstone and, more immediately, of Captain the Honourable James Lindsay. The British, reinforced by the arrival of the Seventy-eighth (now the Seventy-second) regiment, recently arrived from Europe, were in a position to assume the offensive, and having anew provisioned Vellore, undertook the siege of Cudalore, which was only abandoned for lack of the requisite means of attack, thus postponing its fate for another year. So deeply interested was the Commander-in-chief, Sir Eyre Coote, in this undertaking, that, vexed with its miscarriage—esteeming himself inadequately supported by Government in the attempt—grieved and disappointed, he fell a prey to melancholy, which, ere an opportunity to retrieve the present failure had come, the veteran chief had fallen. He was succeeded in the command by Major-General James Stuart, and the army, reinforced by the arrival of the Twenty-third Light Dragoons, the One-hundred-and-first and One-hundred-and-second British regiments, and the Fifteenth regiment of Hanoverian infantry, resumed the siege of Cudalore under more auspicious circumstances. The defence was resolutely maintained by the French under General Bussy. The besiegers so vigorously pressed the enemy that he was at length compelled to withdraw within the fortress. The loss on our side was very severe—the Seventy-third had to mourn a melancholy list of nearly 300 comrades killed or wounded. The news of a treaty of peace having been signed between Great Britain and France, snatched the prize from our troops which we had imagined within our grasp.

In 1786, the numerical title of the regiment was changed from the Seventy-third to the Seventy-first, as at present, by the reduction, etc., of senior corps.

Nothing of importance falls to be recorded in the course of our narrative till the year 1790, when Tippoo Saib, the son and successor of Hyder Ali, encroaching upon the territory of the Rajah of Travancore, a faithful ally of the British, occasioned our interference, resulting in a renewal of hostilities. In the army of Major-General Medows, the Seventy-first and Seventy-second regiments formed the second or Highland brigade, afterwards increased by the addition of the Seventy-fourth Highlanders from Madras. As we shall have frequent opportunity of following the movements of the brigade in after chapters, we will not here burden our history with a repetition, contenting ourselves with the simple mention of the chief events that ensued. Under General the Earl Cornwallis, the Seventy-first was with the army in the various actions which led to the siege and capture of Bangalore; thence it proceeded with the expedition intended to act against Seringapatam, but which, overcome by the force of circumstances, in the meantime retired, awaiting a more favourable opportunity, when better prepared to accomplish the design. In the interval, the regiment was creditably engaged in the reduction of the strong forts of Nundydroog, Savendroog, etc., which had hitherto hindered our progress. At length, in 1792, the army resumed the enterprise against Seringapatam. This forward movement alarmed Tippoo Saib, who, dreading the fate which awaited his capital, strove to arrest the army by accepting battle. The result proving unfortunate, the enemy were driven within the island on which the city stands, and even here, although very strongly posted, the Mysoreans had become so straitened in their circumstances, and were so pressed by the British, that, suing for peace, the Sultan was only too glad to purchase the safety of his capital and preserve the last remnant of his once mighty dominion by any sacrifice which the conquerors chose to impose. Disappointed of a further triumph, the army retired, laden with the spoil which had ransomed the haughty metropolis and its ambitious prince.

Holland having caught the revolutionary fever which prevailed in 1793, and being allied with France, was involved in the war with Britain, which, arising out of the sins of the Revolution, had already torn from these states nearly their entire colonial dominions. Pondicherry, on the Coromandel coast, had succumbed to our arms; and the valuable island of Ceylon was, in turn, wrested from the Dutch by a British expedition, including the Seventy-first regiment. This was the last achievement of any importance which was attained by the corps in India. In 1798, it received orders to return home, and, after a long voyage, landed in safety at Woolwich.