Meanwhile, the converging of the various French armies of the Peninsula for the relief of Burgos, once more necessitated the retreat of the British, who, evacuating Madrid, retired towards Portugal, and finally halted, going into winter quarters, behind the Agueda. The spring of 1813 found the British army largely recruited, and with new energy prepared to resume the offensive—to begin that victorious march which stayed not until the heights of Toulouse owned the triumphs of the British flag.
At the great battle of Vittoria, which may be said to have broken the last remnant of French power in Spain, the third division was most severely engaged; and the gallantry of the Seventy-fourth was anew conspicuous in its successful attack upon the village of Arinez, whence it drove out the enemy. In the after advance, over a rugged country, in pursuit of the retiring columns of the foe, the unbroken line of the Seventy-fourth attracted general attention, and its admirable order was highly commended. In the grand attack which completed the ruin of the French, the third division, being foremost, was assailed by a fiery storm of artillery and musketry, which made fearful chasms in its ranks. At length the success of the fourth division from another quarter compelled the enemy to abandon his strong position, and soon converted the retreat into a disorderly flight. Marshal Soult was afterwards sent to command the army in the Peninsula, as “Lieutenant of the Emperor,” and never was his genius more conspicuous. His master-mind came to the rescue; he re-organised the broken remnant of the once mighty host, and, largely reinforced, once more advanced, thereby inspiring new confidence in his troops, and casting a momentary gleam of hope athwart the lowering horizon which presaged the storm steadily moving vengefully towards devoted France. The hope thus excited was speedily dissipated, and every effort failed to retrieve the disastrous consequences of Vittoria. Driven successively across the “Pyrenees,” the “Nive,” and the “Nivelle,” he found a refuge and a rest for his dispirited and wearied troops within the fortress of Bayonne. At “Orthes” and “Toulouse” Wellington required a great exercise of his own abilities as a chief to overthrow the dogged resolution of his great antagonist, who, equal to the crisis, by prodigies of skill, strove to avert the dissolution of his master’s empire. In all these closing actions of the war, the Seventy-fourth, in the “fighting” third division, more than creditably maintained its part, returning home in 1815 crowned with glory.
Ireland became thereafter the scene of its more peaceful service. Whilst stationed at Fermoy in 1818, new colours were presented to the regiment; and the shreds of the old ones—which had been so victoriously borne in the battles of the Peninsula—burnt to ashes, had their sacred dust treasured up in the lid of a gold sarcophagus snuff-box, inlaid with part of the wood of the colour-staves, and bearing the following inscription:—“This box, composed of the old standards of the Seventy-fourth regiment, was formed as a tribute of respect to the memory of those who fell, and of esteem for those who survived the many glorious and arduous services on which they were always victoriously carried, during a period of sixteen years, in India, the Peninsula, and France. They were presented to the regiment at Wallajahbad in 1802; and the shattered remains were burned at Fermoy on the 6th of April, 1818.”
Having thus disposed of this venerable memorial of its early renown, the regiment embarked at Cork for Halifax, Nova Scotia. Its service in America and Bermuda in 1825, and again in 1828, affords nothing of importance to detain the reader. Returning to Ireland in 1830, it was employed in various garrisons in that country until, ordered on foreign service, it sailed for the West Indies in 1834. Thence, in 1841, it was removed to Canada, returning to England in 1845. By desire of the officers, the Seventy-fourth was restored to its original dignity as a Highland corps, having the trews instead of the kilt; and in 1846 re-visited Scotland for a brief period, whence it proceeded to Ireland, where, associated with the Seventy-fifth and Eighty-eighth regiments, and other troops, it was encamped in the vicinity of Thurles and Ballingarry, to overawe the rebellious, and repress the foolish attempt at insurrection which, stirred by idle demagogues, had excited the people during the famine of 1848. This military demonstration proved sufficient to suppress, without blood, these ill-advised seditions.
One event remains to be recorded in our present sketch, ere we close the brief summary; one event which alone is all-sufficient to glorify the Seventy-fourth, although casting a melancholy interest over its history, yet enshrining the memory of its brave as heroic; one event which, although belonging in common to the records of the Seventy-third and Ninety-first, as well as other regiments, deserves its place here out of respect to the lost and gallant officer commanding; one event which sheds a brighter lustre, as it reveals in truer character the qualities of the British soldier, than the exciting and sanguinary achievements of the battle-field; one event which wakes the soul to truest sympathy, and bids the heart bleed at the recitation of the narrative.
“—— The youthful and the brave,
With their beauty and renown,
To the hollow chambers of the wave
In darkness have gone down.”
One event which has bidden a gush of grief for the lost and brave from the noble-minded of every clime. Such was the wreck of the “Birkenhead.” This vessel, one of the finest in Her Majesty’s service, with a living freight of 632 souls, including 14 officers and 458 soldiers, draughts from various regiments, reinforcements from home on their way to join their comrades fighting in Kaffirland, reaching Simon’s Bay, had sailed thence for Algoa Bay on the evening of the 25th February, 1852.