“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.