CHAPTER SIXTEEN
No doubt, if I had been trained in writing rather than in the tactical requirements for service in the British army, I should call this the appendix of my book. I prefer not to do so, having found in my own experience that readers may be inclined to view the appendix in literature as similar to the appendix in surgery—something which is unnecessary.
I cannot so regard this chapter. It is to me a component and interesting part of the whole, for it goes to the source of the splendid and unique traditions of the regiment in which I have been privileged to serve as a soldier of my country.
A great deal has been written about the Black Watch. Even poets have been inspired to sing of its deeds in stanzas which are undying. Men of Highland birth, glorying in its history, have set down the facts of its achievements under England’s banner. Yet most of these records are composed of dry facts, with no expressed sense of the romantic and the unusual which enter so largely into the history of the most famous fighting organization in the world. And most of them, also, might be written from the viewpoint of a century ago. They do not bring the recital of the achievements of the Black Watch into the atmosphere of to-day, with due regard for the interesting and almost startling effect of contrast.
This thought came to me one day when I was riding on a trolley through one of the busy districts of that part of Greater New York which lies east of the bridged river, and suddenly realized that I was passing over the very ground upon which the Black Watch had its first important engagement in the war of the American Revolution—the Battle of Brooklyn. I recalled that on this very spot, where clanging trolleys, quick motor cars and hurrying pedestrians made a confusing rush of traffic, the men of the Black Watch fought, in the fashion of their forefathers, with broadsword and pistol, against the sturdy pioneers whose descendants are now the allies of our nation in a war for world freedom. In the annals of our regiment, the use of the broadsword and pistol in the Battle of Brooklyn is duly recorded, for it was after this engagement that the regiment was required to lay aside these mediæval weapons—a fact which occasioned such discontent among the veterans of the Watch that there was even fear that the Highland stubbornness might manifest itself as markedly in protest as on the occasion—in England, in 1743—when the men of the regiment, confronted with orders issued in ignorance of the Highland characteristics and customs, departed quietly, in a body, without the knowledge of their officers, and marched as far as Northampton with the intention of returning to their Highland homes, relinquishing the purpose only when prolonged negotiations had made the facts of the situation plain to their stubborn minds.
On the whole, however, this disposition on the part of the men of the Black Watch could hardly be called surprising, in view of the ignorance regarding the Highland character then prevalent in England. Three years before, King George the Second, having never seen a Scotch Highlander—although the Black Watch had already been organized in the Highlands as the Forty-third regiment of the British army—asked to have some examples of the race sent to appear before him and his court. Two Highlanders, Gregor MacGregor and John Campbell, appeared in response to the King’s command. (A third, John Grant, began the journey to London with them but died on the way.) MacGregor and Campbell gave exhibitions of their dexterity with the broadsword and the Lochaber axe, in the presence of the King and his Court. When they had finished the King gave each a gold guinea as a gratuity. They gave the coins as a tip to the porter, on their departure. The King had not understood that his guests were Highland gentlemen.
Sitting at the window of the house where I now pass the peaceful and uneventful days of the soldier who has fought until wounds incapacitate him for further service afield, I smiled, one day, at another thought in which the past and the present incongruously came into association. From this window, I viewed the populous, close-built residential stretches of Washington Heights, typical of the city life of to-day. And, amid all this, my eye could seek out the very spot where occurred the grimly humorous adventure of Major Murray, most corpulent of the officers of the Black Watch, when the command was fighting against Washington’s rebellious patriots. Having to scale the heights which were later to become famous as the habitat of the hardy goats of Harlem, Major Murray was at a great disadvantage because of his weight and girth. “Soldiers, would you leave me behind?” he appealed, pathetically, when he needed assistance. And then his husky Highlanders would boost him upward toward the fray. It was, consequently, in a somewhat breathless and confused condition that the valiant major attained the spot upon the heights where the conflict raged. Rushing forward to close with some antagonist in the Colonials, Major Murray discovered that his only weapon, his dirk, had got twisted behind him in the strenuous struggles of the ascent and that, because of his excessive fatness, he couldn’t reach it. The records of the regiment, at the home station, Perth, state that the major, on this occasion, tore a sword from the grasp of one of three Colonials who attacked him and put all three to flight. With no thought to cast aspersion upon the major’s valour, I have always been inclined to the belief that the writer of the regimental reports may have compensated in a certain generosity of statement for his earlier description of the major’s comic predicament.
Study of the history of the Black Watch, gathered, largely, in a fragmentary way, has always had a fascination for me. I have felt in the greatest degree the pride of membership in the organization—and the world knows that the men of the Black Watch have always made much of the name. I feel that tradition had well prepared the regiment for its sacrificial and almost superhuman efforts between Mons and the Marne. For hard fighting and long fighting—in every quarter of the globe and with opponents of almost every race—civilized and uncivilized—no organized fighting force has ever had a record to equal that of the Black Watch.
The regiment got its name in 1729, when six companies of Highlanders which had constituted a sort of military police along the highland border, were joined together into a more or less homogeneous command. Four of these companies had been in existence for a few years. Two were of organization of that year. They were called the Independent Companies of Highlanders but it was their purpose to co-operate to preserve order among the turbulent spirits of the border and to enforce the disarming act. Highlanders from the broken clans flocked to the banners of the Independent Companies, as this gave them the right still to bear arms. Many of them were Highland gentlemen, who came with their servants to carry their arms and belongings. The companies were commanded by Lord Lovat, Campbell of Lochnell, Grant of Ballindalloch, Campbell of Fonab, Campbell of Carrick, and Munro of Culcairn. Approximately, there were a hundred men in each company. They wore the dark tartan of the clan Campbell, and thus came to be called the Freaceadan Dubh, or Black Watch, as distinguished from the saighdearan dearg, or red soldiers.
For ten years, these six companies served on the border, constituting a slender but effective bulwark between two neighbouring but utterly different peoples. In this day—when it is but a pleasant outing to motor from England into the Highlands—it seems almost unbelievable that the laws, language, customs, and social usages of the Highlanders should for centuries have remained utterly different from those of England and the lowlands, and that the people of the lowlands should have almost no knowledge of neighbours so near. The sturdy and soldierly qualities of the Highlanders of the six companies, however, couldn’t escape the notice of England’s generals, ever seeking new drafts for England’s fighting forces.
In 1739 it was decided that a foot regiment of Highlanders should be added to the regular establishment of the army, the six Independent Companies being augmented by four new companies to constitute the regimental strength.
In 1740 this regiment—commanded by the Earl of Crawford and Lindsay, as colonel—was paraded for the first time on a field, near Aberfeldy. Until then, the Black Watch had been uniformed only in the fact that each member wore the philleadh mor or belted plaid, of the Campbell tartan. No one but a Highlander could ever adjust this dress. It consisted of twelve yards of tartan, two-thirds of it gathered in pleats, held by a belt round the waist, and the other third folded around the body and clasped with a buckle, on the left shoulder.
The uniform and individual equipment of the new regiment, which was called the Forty-third Foot, is described in detail in an old order of the day. It consisted of “scarlet jacket and waistcoat, with buff facings and white lace; the phileag beag, or little kilt; a blue bonnet, with check border of red, white, and green, and a tuft of feathers; musket, bayonet, pistol, broadsword, dirk and target.” The first march of the regiment was from beside the waters of the Tay—where it had encamped for more than a year—to Perth, in which city the home station of the regiment was then established and still is maintained.
When I outfitted there, with my contingent of first reserve men, at the outbreak of this war, the thought came to my mind that, three times before, the Black Watch had moved from Perth to fight in Flanders.
I have never seen a succinct summary of the activities of the Black Watch. Though far abler writers than I have described its separate campaigns, each of these writers has given but a limited view of the long vista of sturdy fighting which visualizes the regiment’s history. From such sources of information as I have had, the following summary has been extracted. Surely it will tell a story of interest to every man who is interested in the traditions of Britain’s “far-flung battle line.”
The regiment marched from Perth to London, in 1743, and, after a mutiny—due to tales of scandal-mongers that the Highlanders were to be sent to the American plantations—made its first journey overseas, going to fight in Flanders under the command of the Earl of Stair. After Fontenoy, the regiment covered the British retreat and lost, among their officers, five Campbells. In this battle they were commanded by Sir Robert Munro.
The Black Watch, then called the 43rd Highlanders, was transferred to England, and most of the companies were kept in Kent, during the Jacobite uprising. Three companies were engaged in Scotland in putting down the insurrection, and one was at the battle of Prestonpans. I quote from a story of the Black Watch written by Lauchlan MacLean Watt in saying that “the other two companies had an unwilling share in the deplorable outrages in the Highland Glens after Culloden, which made the name of the Duke of Cumberland worthy to be placed amongst those of his blood who have won similar distinction in Belgium, to-day.”
The Black Watch was sent to France, in 1746, thence to Ireland and back to Flanders in 1747.
In 1749 it was returned to Ireland where it remained eight years. In this year the regimental number was changed to the 42nd.
In 1757 the regiment was a part of the expeditionary force sent to America for the French and Indian war. At Ticonderoga it served so valiantly and suffered such terrific losses that the name “The Royal Highlanders” was conferred upon it.
The regiment next fought at Martinique and Guadaloupe, returning to fight again in Canada and take an important part in the battle which compelled the surrender of Montreal. Altogether, it served seven years in the West Indies and North America. It was only at this period that company sergeants were given carbines instead of the Lochaber axes which they had always carried.
In 1775 the regiment returned to Scotland, having been absent 32 years.
In April, 1776, the regiment embarked again for America, this time to fight in the revolution of the American colonists. They were disembarked on Staten Island, and, as I have said, they were engaged and suffered some losses in the Battle of Brooklyn. They also suffered heavily in the Battle of the Brandywine.
The Black Watch next fought against Hyder Ali, in India, in 1782.
In 1795 it took part in the defence of Nieuport, in Flanders, and suffered much in the Gildersmalsen retreat, in that campaign.
Back again, the regiment went, after this, to the West Indies and in this campaign the men were first given a uniform suitable to wear in the tropics. Its principal features were white duck trousers and round hats. The mutations of world warfare had had their effect. The Highlanders were willing to put on pantaloons. There were but five companies of the regiment on this expedition. The whole regiment was reassembled, however, in the following year, at Gibraltar, and fought as a whole in the capture of Minorca.
The year 1800 found the regiment, under Sir Ralph Abercromby, in Egypt. During the fighting with Napoleon’s armies, there, the regiment lost its commander in action.
In 1808 the Black Watch was among the British forces in the Peninsula and suffered extreme privation and heavy losses on the retreat from Corunna.
In the following year the regiment was on the ill-fated expedition to Walcheren, returning with less than one-third of its original strength. Three years later they were in Portugal again.
After the escape of Napoleon the regiment fought through to Waterloo, though without playing an important part in that last great battle.
It then fought through the campaign of the Crimea as a part of Sir Colin Campbell’s Highland brigade.
Within a year it was in the lead of the force of six thousand men which Sir Colin led against twenty-five thousand mutineers at Cawnpore.
Its next hard fighting was in the Ashanti campaign, under General Sir Garnet Wolseley.
In 1881 it was combined with the 73rd Highland regiment (formerly the 2nd battalion of the Black Watch) and in the next year was back, fighting in Egypt. Through the whole of that war in Egypt it was in the fore-front, fighting with distinction up to the end of the expedition which was organized for the relief of Gordon at Khartoum.
The regiment suffered its most terrific losses—up to those of the retreat from Mons—in the South African campaign. The slaughter of the Black Watch, at Magersfontein, when the Boers ambushed it in close formation, was the most shocking news that came to England from the Cape.
The story of the 2nd Battalion of the regiment and its deeds is a separate one, through several decades. It sailed to India in 1780 and was in action in all of the big and little Indian wars of that early and troublous time. In 1809 it was made a separate regiment and called the 73rd Highlanders. As such it served at Waterloo, and it remained a separate unit until 1881, when it was reunited with the original 1st Battalion.
The Black Watch, as now organized, might almost be called a small army. There is a depot battalion at Perth, four territorial battalions in Scotland and six service battalions.
In 1905, I enlisted in the 1st Battalion of the Black Watch—the same “Royal Highlanders” that had won its designation at Ticonderoga. In 1907, I was transferred to the 2nd Battalion, which had been known as the 73rd Highlanders. I joined them at their station at Peshawar, near the mouth of the famous Kyber Pass, in Afghanistan. In the athletic contests for which the regiment was famous, I met as a competitor, Ned MacD—— the same Ned MacD—— whose romantic story I have told in a previous chapter. After a time we were the regimental champions, and, many a day in India, we strenuously upheld the honour of the Black Watch in competition with the men of other regiments.
My athletic days and my fighting days are over. But ever my blood will quicken with the thought that I have played my part and done my service and shed my blood in the ranks of the Black Watch, fighting for Right and for the Freedom of Mankind. The pain of old wounds will ever vanish, the regrets for departed comrades will ever fade into forgetfulness when I read, again, the verses which paraphrase the title conferred by the bodies upon the Black watch—upon us!
THE END
THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS
GARDEN CITY, N. Y.
Footnotes:
[1] Since my discharge and residence here in America, I have heard several other cases of this kind, but the one narrated above is the only one I actually came in contact with. The Author.
[2] This was Ned’s individual experience. Prisoners in other hospitals and prison camps may have been allowed to write home even at that time. In talking to others I have learned that the prison camps in Germany vary a great deal.—The Author.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Other than the corrections noted by hover information, printer’s inconsistencies have been retained.