CHAPTER XXXI.
“Right onward did Clan-Alpine come.
Above the tide, each broadsword bright
Was brandishing like beam of light,
Each targe was dark below;
And with the ocean’s mighty swing,
When heaving to the tempest’s wing,
They hurled them on the foe.
I heard the lance’s shivering crash,
As when the whirlwind rends the ash;
I heard the broadsword’s deadly clang,
As if an hundred anvils rang!
But Moray wheeled his rearward rank
Of horsemen on Clan-Alpine’s flank—
‘My banner-man advance!
I see,’ he cried, ‘their column shake;
Now, gallants! for your ladies’ sake,
Upon them with the lance!’
The horsemen dashed among the rout,
As deer break through the broom;
Their steeds are stout, their swords are out,
They soon make lightsome room.”
GIBRALTAR—CAPE OF GOOD HOPE—BUENOS AYRES—PENINSULA—FLANDERS—WATERLOO—CANADA—WEST INDIES—1778–1862.
Whilst the first battalion was gallantly combating its country’s foes on the plains of India, a second battalion, raised in 1778, had, in 1780, embarked for Gibraltar. On the voyage, the fleet fell in with a valuable Spanish convoy of Carracca merchantmen, guarded by several ships of war. Sir George Rodney, the British admiral, having impressed the Seventy-first as marines, assailed the enemy, and soon compelled them to surrender. Arrived off Cape St Vincent, a new and more formidable antagonist awaited the coming of the British. A powerful Spanish fleet, under Admiral Don Juan de Langara, appeared in sight, charged with their destruction. But a very different result was the issue of the collision: out of eleven line-of-battle ships, comprising the enemy, nearly all either perished or were captured. Arrived at Gibraltar, the battalion was engaged in the defence of that important fortress, contributing by its gallantry to beat off the most stupendous efforts of Spain and France combined to reduce it. Successively it witnessed the failure of the tremendous cannonade with which the Spaniards assailed the fortifications, hoping therewith to render these splendid works a heap of ruins, no longer defensible even by British valour. In 1781, the flank companies of the battalion participated in the glory of the sortie which accomplished the destruction of the numerous and powerful batteries and immense magazines of the enemy; and finally, in the following year, it beheld the might of France and Spain discomfited, and itself, surviving the iron tempest of shot and shell with which the enemy proposed to exterminate the garrison, was glorified along with the British troops who dauntlessly maintained the fortress. Ten ponderous battering ships had been prepared and were supposed to achieve marvels in the tremendous artillery of the assault. But alas! how oft is the counsel of the wise mocked and the loftiest designs of man humbled by the God of battles! Instead of victory, which it was fondly imagined should crown such gigantic efforts of skill, these floating batteries were nearly all utterly destroyed by the red-hot shot used for the purpose by the British. Thus triumphing over the vast efforts of two of the mightiest military powers of the age, our brave garrison received the royal thanks, expressive of the people’s gratitude, conveyed through the Secretary of State for War, in these flattering terms:—“I am honoured with His Majesty’s commands to assure you, in the strongest terms, that no encouragement shall be wanting to the brave officers and soldiers under your command. His royal approbation of the past will no doubt be a powerful incentive to future exertions; and I have the King’s authority to assure you, that every distinguished act of emulation and gallantry, which shall be performed in the course of the siege by any, even of the lowest rank, will meet with ample reward from his gracious protection and favour.” Peace at length dawned, and the blockade was in consequence raised in February, 1783. The second battalion, returning home, was disbanded at Stirling in the autumn of the same year.
THE SEVENTY-FIRST, OR GLASGOW HIGHLAND LIGHT INFANTRY.
The first battalion, which had returned from India, had proceeded to Scotland to recruit, but, being unsuccessful, passed over to Ireland in 1800, where it received 600 volunteers from the Scots Fencibles. Afterward, when the peace of Amiens had been transgressed, and a French invasion seemed imminent, the “Army Reserve Act” occasioned the formation of a second battalion at Dumbarton in 1804. Enrolled for a limited time, and restricted to home duty, it was employed in various garrisons in Scotland, Ireland, and South Britain, and was disbanded at Glasgow in December, 1815, on the termination of the war. Meanwhile, the alarm of invasion having passed away, the first battalion, with the Seventy-second and Ninety-third regiments, formed the second or Highland brigade, under Brigadier-General Ronald Crawfurd Ferguson, engrossed in the army of Major-General Sir David Baird, destined to operate against the Dutch colony at the Cape of Good Hope. Having successfully accomplished a landing in Saldanha Bay, conquered at the battle of Bleuberg, driven the Dutch army of Lieutenant-General Janssens into the interior, and advanced upon Cape Town, the fruitlessness of further resistance becoming evident, the entire colony was surrendered in 1806. In token of the honour acquired by the regiment in this enterprise, the words “Cape of Good Hope” have been since borne by permission upon its regimental colour. No sooner had this conquest been completed than the Seventy-first was detached, with 200 men of the St Helena regiment—making a total of 1087 rank and file, in an expedition against Buenos Ayres, in South America. Commanded by Brigadier-General William Carr (afterwards Viscount) Beresford, this ill-advised and ill-fated expedition at first met with considerable success—a bloodless landing being effected, and the enemy easily broken and dispersed, all promised to go well. Recovering from their first alarm, and ashamed that such a handful of British should have so easily assumed to be their masters, the citizens, gradually drawing together into a formidable phalanx, resolved to wipe away the disgrace, and achieve their liberty by the expulsion of the invaders. Driven into the citadel, without hope of relief, and unable to contend against the hourly increasing enemies that surrounded them and threatened vengeance upon them, the besieged felt themselves compelled to surrender. Removed as prisoners into the interior of the country, the battalion was treated leniently, but the landing of a second expedition at Monte Video, fated to an issue as unfortunate, occasioned a more rigorous treatment. Negotiations having brought about an amicable arrangement, the entire British, released, agreed to relinquish all hostilities against South America. Unarmed and ununiformed, the battalion reached Cork in 1807, and was immediately re-equipped, and presented with new colours by Lieutenant-General Floyd, who thus addressed it:—“Brave Seventy-first, the world is well acquainted with your gallant conduct at the capture of Buenos Ayres, in South America, under one of His Majesty’s bravest generals.
“It is well known that you defended your conquest with the utmost courage, good conduct, and discipline to the last extremity. When diminished to a handful, hopeless of succour, and destitute of provisions, you were overwhelmed by multitudes, and reduced by the fortune of war to lose your liberty and your well-defended colours, but not your honour. Your honour, Seventy-first regiment, remains unsullied. Your last act in the field covered you with glory. Your generous despair, calling upon your General to suffer you to die with arms in your hands, proceeded from the genuine spirit of British soldiers. Your behaviour in prosperity—your sufferings in captivity—and your faithful discharge of your duty to your King and country, are appreciated by all.
“You who now stand on this parade, in defiance of the allurements held out to base desertion, are endeared to the army and to the country, and your conduct will ensure you the esteem of all true soldiers—of all worthy men—and fill every one of you with honest martial pride.
“It has been my good fortune to have witnessed, in a remote part of the world, the early glories and gallant conduct of the Seventy-first regiment in the field; and it is with great satisfaction I meet you again, with replenished ranks, with good arms in your hands, and with stout hearts in your bosoms.
“Look forward, officers and soldiers, to the achievement of new honours and the acquirement of fresh fame!
“Officers! be the friends and guardians of these brave fellows committed to your charge!
“Soldiers! give your confidence to your officers. They have shared with you the chances of war; they have bravely bled along with you; they will always do honour to themselves and you. Preserve your regiments reputation for valour in the field, and regularity in quarters.”
Spain and Portugal having been despoiled of their independence by the perfidious usurpation of France, Britain—allied with the patriots of the Peninsula in the struggle going on for the emancipation of these kingdoms from the thraldom of Napoleon—sent an army to Portugal, which included the first battalion of the Seventy-first, and under the command of Sir Arthur Wellesley, effected a landing in Mondego Bay in 1808. Through the victories of “Roleia” and “Vimiera,” commemorated upon the colours of the regiment, the convention of Cintra was achieved, which expelled the French under Marshal Junot, Duke of Abrantes, from Portugal. At Vimiera, the Grenadier company of the Seventy-first, under Captain Forbes, captured a battery of five guns and a howitzer, which every attempt of the enemy failed to recover. On the same occasion George Clarke, the piper of the regiment, was specially commended for his gallantry in resolutely continuing at his post, although severely wounded, cheering his countrymen by the wild inspiring music of the bag-pipe. Corporal MʻKay, at the same battle, was fortunate enough to receive the sword of the French General Brennier. Advancing upon Madrid, associated in brigade with the Thirty-sixth and Ninety-second regiments, the Seventy-first was ultimately joined to the army of Lieutenant-General Sir John Moore, which had promised to relieve the citizens of that metropolis from the intolerant yoke of France. The corps was with the British army in the disastrous yet glorious retreat, terminated in the victory of Corunna, possessing a melancholy interest from the death of the hero whose genius had accomplished it, and which delivered a British army from a situation of imminent peril.
Embarked, the regiment returned to England, and in 1809—a year to be mournfully remembered, as fatal to the wearing of the kilt in the army—it was ordered to lay aside the Highland garb, and was uniformed as a light infantry regiment. Every care was in consequence bestowed to promote its efficiency. Strengthened, it was associated with the Sixty-eighth and Eighty-fifth regiments in the light brigade, and was ordered to accompany the army in the ill-advised expedition, which wasted a splendid armament in a vain attempt to obtain a footing in Flanders. The good conduct of the regiment was nevertheless most conspicuous in the various actions of the brief campaign.
Returning to England towards the close of the year, in the spring of 1810, the first, second, third, fourth, sixth, and tenth companies were selected to reinforce the army of Lieutenant-General Viscount Wellington, then fighting in Portugal. It arrived at a very critical period in the history of the war, when Marshal Massena, pressing our troops with overwhelming numbers, they were retreating towards the impregnable lines of Torres Vedras, defeating the sanguine hopes of the French general. The Seventy-first, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel the Hon. Henry Cadogan, was brigaded with the Fiftieth and Ninety-second regiments under Major-General Sir William Erskine. Whilst maintaining these formidable defences, the following incident is related of Sir Adam Ferguson, who was so posted with his company that the French artillery might operate with fatal effect upon his men, but, for better security, they were ordered to lie prostrate on the ground. While in this attitude the captain, kneeling at their head, read aloud the description of the battle, as introducing our present chapter, and as selected from Sir Walter Scott’s “Lady of the Lake.” The little volume had just come into the camp as a stranger, but was soon welcomed as a friend. The listening soldiers, charmed with the poet’s tale, only interrupted the reading by an occasional and joyous huzzah whenever the French shot struck the bank close above them. Wearied, disappointed, and distressed by ravages of disease amongst his troops, the French Marshal was constrained in turn to retreat—a retreat which, but for the unslumbering vigilance of his pursuers, promised to be as successful as the ability with which it was conducted merited, worthy the genius of Massena—justly esteemed the right hand of Napoleon.
In 1811 the regiment was joined by its other companies. In the action of Fuentes d’Onor it was warmly engaged; repeatedly and powerfully assailed by the enemy, it was all but overpowered in the defence of the village, when, happily, the Seventy-fourth and Eighty-Eighth regiments arrived to its support, and so the post was retained. The corps was afterwards detached as a reinforcement to the army of Marshal Sir William Beresford, and subsequently, in the army of Lieutenant-General Rowland (afterwards Viscount) Hill, was employed in the southern provinces of the Peninsula, keeping in check the French under Marshal Soult, and otherwise covering the operations of the grand army of Wellington. It helped to disperse and destroy a considerable detachment of the enemy which had been surprised at Arroyo-del-Molinos. It was more especially commended for the exceeding gallantry it displayed in the capture of Fort Napoleon, embraced in the action and commemorated in the word “Almaraz.” At the battle of Vittoria it suffered very severely in the loss of nearly 400 men and officers; but the most grievous loss was felt in the death of its Lieutenant-Colonel, the Hon. Henry Cadogan, who largely enjoyed the esteem of the soldiers. He “fell mortally wounded while leading his men to the charge, and being unable to accompany the battalion, requested to be carried to a neighbouring eminence, from which he might take a last farewell of them and the field. In his dying moments he earnestly inquired if the French were beaten; and on being told by an officer of the regiment, who stood by supporting him, that they had given way at all points, he ejaculated, ‘God bless my brave countrymen,’ and immediately expired.” The Marquis of Wellington thus gave effect to his own regrets in the official dispatch communicating his fall:—“In him His Majesty has lost an officer of great zeal and tried gallantry, who had already acquired the respect and regard of the whole profession, and of whom it might be expected, that if he had lived he would have rendered the most important services to his country.”
In all the after battles and actions, which resulted in the expulsion of the French from Spain, and their repeated defeats and ultimate rout on their native plains, the Seventy-first bore an honourable part, returning to Britain in 1814, richly laden with a harvest of glory. A short interval of peace soon recruited the “precious remnant” of the regiment, and so restored its strength as enabled it once more to go on foreign service. Ordered to embark for America, it was fortunately detained by tempestuous weather, and so privileged to win laurels on a mightier field. Napoleon having escaped from his honourable exile in Elba, by his presence in France, overturning the ricketty government of the Bourbon, involved that bleeding country in a universal war, since it brought down the combined wrath of Europe, whose allied armies now hastened to arrest and punish the ambitious man who had proved himself so dire a curse to Christendom. Upon the plains of Waterloo the die for empire was cast and lost. In that great battle the Seventy-first had a part, forming with the first battalion of the Fifty-second, and the second and third battalions of the Ninety-fifth, or Rifles—a light infantry brigade which sustained the charge of three regiments of French cavalry: one of cuirassiers, one of grenadiers-à-cheval, and one of lancers. It also withstood the shock of the grand final charge of the Old Imperial Guard, witnessing the discomfiture of these choice troops, so long the citadel of imperial strength, now reeling, broken, dying, dead—of whom, borrowing the words, it may well be said—
“They never feared the face of man.”
This great victory having ruined irretrievably the fortunes of Napoleon, the allied army, rapidly advancing, entered Paris a second time, and there dictated the terms of peace. The Seventy-first remained in France as part of the “army of occupation;” and whilst stationed at the village of Rombly in 1816, its soldiers were presented with the Waterloo medals by Colonel Reynell, who thus, addressing the regiment, said:—“These honourable rewards bestowed by your Sovereign for your share in the great and glorious exertions of the army of His Grace the Duke of Wellington upon the field of Waterloo, when the utmost efforts of the army of France, directed by Napoleon, reputed to be the first captain of the age, were not only paralysed at the moment, but blasted beyond the power of even a second struggle.
WATERLOO
18TH JUNE 1815.
from 4.30 to 6.30 o’clock pm
“To have participated in a contest crowned with victory so decisive, and productive of consequences that have diffused peace, security, and happiness throughout Europe, may be to each of you a source of honourable pride, as well as of gratitude to the Omnipotent Arbiter of all human contests, who preserved you in such peril, and without whose protecting hand the battle belongs not to the strong, nor the race to the swift.
“I acknowledge to feel an honest, and, I trust, an excusable, exultation, in having had the honour to command you on that day; and in dispensing these medals, destined to record in your families the share you had in the ever-memorable battle of Waterloo, it is a peculiar satisfaction to me that I can present them to those by whom they have been fairly and honourably earned, and that I can here solemnly declare, that in the course of that eventful day I did not observe a soldier of this good regiment whose conduct was not only creditable to the English nation, but such as his dearest friends could desire. I trust that they will act as powerful talismans, to keep you, in your future lives, in the paths of honour, sobriety, and virtue.” A year later and Major-General Sir Denis Pack presented new colours to the regiment, and, alluding to its services, said:—“Never, indeed, did the character of the corps stand higher; never was the fame of the British arms or the glory of the British empire more pre-eminent than at this moment, an enthusiastic recollection of which the sight of these colours must always inspire.”
Returning to England in 1818, the Seventy-first remained on home service until 1824, when it was removed to Canada, and in 1831 was sent to Bermuda, thence restored to its native land in 1834. It returned to Canada in 1838, and in 1842 was included in a first and reserve battalion. Whilst the latter remained in Canada, the former was ordered to the West Indies, thence to Barbadoes, and in 1847 restored to England. In 1853 the first battalion proceeded to the Ionian Islands; and in November, 1854, the reserve battalion, which had recently arrived from Canada, embarked for the Crimea, followed by the first battalion from Corfu. Both battalions were subsequently united on arrival at the seat of war. “Sevastopol” commemorates its service before that place. The regiment was next stationed at Malta, and was sent thence by overland route, in January, 1858, to Bombay, and is now at Sealkote, in the Punjaub.