Various writers tell of the extreme kindness received by the Gordons after the battle from the inhabitants of Brussels and Antwerp. The "good and brave Scots" came in on drays and wagons, apparently none the worse for the fierce encounter, saving merely the loss of a leg, or an arm or two. "We're a' wantin' a leg or a' airm," cried one from the midst of a wagon-load of wounded, as if it were a kind of fraternal greeting. The good folk, seeing their plight, and not understanding the language, brought them wine in abundance, but the Highlanders did not understand the colour of it, and called for "guid sma' ale" as the next best thing to their own "white wine of the north."
Tales of suffering in those days cannot vie in magnitude with the tales of to-day, but it is interesting to note that the endurance and patience of the Highlanders, as they lay on the wagons, or came in on foot, fainting with weariness and loss of blood, called forth the remark, as they passed through the street, "the men of your country must be made of iron."
It remains to touch on the Highlanders' own account of this battle. It was simple and unpretentious in the extreme. One who had been severely wounded, and was lying on the paving stones, waiting to be attended to, was accosted by an English resident. "How you and your comrades fought!" he said. "Your bravery will be the talk of the world. There is no doubt, as the people here say, you and your countrymen are made of iron." "Hoots, man," replied the Highlander, "need ye mak' sic a din aboot the like o' that? What did we gang oot for but to fecht?"
It goes without saying that false reports of any considerable engagement were spread through the countryside, even in those days. A chronicler states that Mercer, when making his way to the scene of action, happened on a Gordon Highlander, toiling painfully along the road, badly wounded in the knee. "Halt!" cried Mercer. "Have you any information? The Belgians tell me that our army has been forced to retreat." "Na, na," replied the Scot; "it's a damned lee! When I cam' awa' they were fechtin', an' they're aye fechtin' yet." With that, he sat down on the roadside and calmly lit his pipe, while a prentice surgeon probed for the bullet in his knee.
Another incident preserved in the records of the Gordons is related by a Scotch lady who resided at that time in Antwerp. She had heard reports of a retreat from Quatre Bras, and other mis-statements concerning Mont St. Jean had also reached her ears, all to the effect that the British had suffered severe defeat; that Wellington was dangerously wounded, and that all of any account in our army were either killed or taken prisoners. Moreover, thousands of French troops had entered Brussels, and that on the heels of death and destruction came panic and dismay. Needless to say, this was not true, except in one point only—that 2,000 French had entered Brussels; but it was in the rôle of prisoners, not victors! On the following day the Scotch lady went out in search of news, and was met by a long procession of vehicles laden with the wounded. Not a word of victory could she get on any hand, until she observed, in the very last wagon, a group of Gordon Highlanders, badly wounded, and heavily bandaged. They evidently knew something, for they were throwing their bonnets in the air, and shouting: "Bony's beat! Hurrah for Bonnie Scotland! Hurrah for Merrie England! Bony's beat!" Recognizing the Highland spirit, the lady sought to learn the cause of their excitement, and they told her, between their wild cries of joy, that a rider had just sped by, bringing the glad news of victory.
It was not easy for the people of Brussels to gather the real import of this news either from the lady or the Highlanders, but it began to spread about, in what to them was an unknown tongue, though forcible in vociferation, that "Bony was beat and runnin' awa' to his ain country just as fast as he could gang." Yet there was no explaining it to them, and it was in vain that a brawny, bearded Highlander took a Belgian woman to task with the words, "Canna ye hear, ye auld witch? Are ye deaf? Bony's beat, I tell ye! I tell ye, Bony's beat, wumman!" It was no good! But the full significance of the fact was soon made known in the city, and then there was wild rejoicing on every hand.
In those times the Belgian people conceived and fostered a great love for the Gordon Highlanders, and no doubt the tradition has been handed down to this day that they are the best of soldiers, sweet and gentle in peace, and terrible in war.
The part played by the Gordons in the repulse of the Boer attack on Ladysmith, January 6th, 1900, is never to be forgotten. It was here that Lieutenant Colonel Dick-Cunyngham, V.C., fell at the head of his men. It was during the Afghan campaign that this hero of the Gordons received his V.C., when they were fighting outside Kabul in 1879. Staggered for a moment by a terrific onslaught on the part of the Afghans, the Gordons, their leading officer and colour-sergeant being killed, seemed to hesitate, when Dick-Cunyngham sprang forward, and, by his remarkable coolness and gallantry, saved the situation.
In later days, the Gordon Highlanders have maintained and even added to the reputation thus bravely won. One signal instance is found in their attacks on the Dargai heights. On October 18th, 1897, the Gordons formed part of the flanking movement under Brigadier-General Kempster. The heights were won, but were shortly re-occupied by the enemy. On the following day, a second battle was joined about this position. Under Sir William Lockhart the Gordons displayed their usual fighting power. In the "Broad Arrow" of February, 18th, 1898, Sir William Lockhart himself described the part they played:
"The Gordon Highlanders went straight up the hill without check or hesitation. Headed by their pipers, and led by Colonel Mathias, with Major Macbean on his right, and Lieutenant A. F. Gordon on his left, this splendid battalion marched across the open. It dashed through a murderous fire, and in forty minutes had won the heights, leaving three officers and thirty men killed or wounded on its way. The first rush of the Highlanders was deserving of the highest praise, for they had just undergone a very severe climb, and had reached a point beyond which other troops had been unable to advance for over three hours. The first rush was followed at short intervals by a second and a third, each led by officers; and, as the leading companies went up the path for the final assault, the remainder of the troops streamed on in support, but few of the enemy waited for the bayonet, many of them being shot down as they fled in confusion."