See Glengary and Lochiel!
See the brandish’d broad-swords glancing!
Highland hearts are true as steel.”
CHANNEL ISLANDS—FLANDERS—CAPE OF GOOD HOPE—INDIA—BATAVIA—1793–1817.
Already had the noble lords of Seaforth stood forth foremost in the breach where British liberty, involved in our glorious constitution, was assailed by aggressive and vindictive foes; already had the beloved chieftains of the Mackenzie bidden their clansmen rally around the state, which a few years earlier (1715) they had sworn to overthrow; already had the regiment they thus contributed, the Seventy-second, illumined the page of history by the stirring narrative of its brilliant achievements, and, honoured by a grateful people, returned to its native land, to rest for a time upon the laurels won on the far-distant plains of India. Sprung from this race of heroes, as the new-begotten and second representative of this distinguished family in our army, the Seventy-eighth has strong claims upon our interest and sympathy—an interest and sympathy which have been quickened into a warm affection, finding an echo in the soul of the brave and noble of every land. Appreciating the gallantry of its services at Lucknow in behalf of suffering valour and murdered innocence, we hail it with feelings of national gratitude as the “Saviour of India.”
Whilst the horrid cruelties perpetrated by the demagogues of Paris excited the commiseration of beholding Europe for an unfortunate and misguided people, the victims of their own folly, it at the same time inspired feelings of fear among the terror-stricken tyrants of the Continent, and palsied the might of their councils. A momentary irresolution seized the British Cabinet, until the energy and eloquence of Pitt awakened the Government to its true duty. The charm which spell-bound other states, failed to ravish us of our freedom. Thoroughly aroused from the fatal lethargy into which the nation was being lulled by false ideas of “liberty, equality, and fraternity”—rightly interpreted, lust, rapine, and murder—it assumed a sounder policy, befitting its dignity. Buckling on its armour, Britain fearlessly challenged this giant iniquity to trespass upon the sacred soil of our chartered and constitutional liberty. Impelled by a stern necessity, our country laid aside the beloved garb of peace, and assumed the dread panoply of war, as our “meteor flag” was unfurled—
“The flag which braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze.”
Fleet after fleet forsook the tranquil bosom of the harbour where hitherto they had nestled, and struggling with the stormy billows of the sea, begirt our island home with those “wooden walls” which, defended by our “hearts of oak,” have so long been our pride, and deemed impregnable; whilst regiment after regiment mustered on the beach, daring the foe to set foot upon these hallowed shores.
In such times the noble lord of Seaforth a second time drew his father’s sword, and with the valour and loyalty of his house swelling in his breast, called on his clansmen yet remaining to follow him. Foremost, in the very van of this army of patriots, was thus marshalled the gallant subject of our sketch—the Seventy-eighth Highlanders.