Brave British soldiers and the Victoria Cross / a general account of the regiments and men of the British Army, and stories of the brave deeds which won the prize "for valour"

by Unknown

The retirement or the removal of one of their favourite officers to another regiment called forth the strongest feelings of sorrow, and sometimes almost led to open resistance. It occasionally happened that these officers were Englishmen, who with the garb of the mountains had adopted all the feelings of the mountaineers. Cadogan, who commanded the 71st in the Peninsula, was a Saxon, and yet no Celt was ever dearer to his men. The Pretender would never have been so popular in the North if he had not worn the tartan; the same may be said of Montrose and Dundee, neither of whom was a Highlander by birth. If English officers failed to gain the affections and respect of their men, it was because they failed to make themselves acquainted with their character, and inadvertently wounded their feelings. Such cases, however, were rare. English officers serving in Highland regiments possessed the esprit de corps as much as the Highlanders themselves. At first, as we have shown, all the officers belonged to the North, and it was a point of honour with the men either to protect them in battle or to avenge them if slain. We might cite many cases where Highland soldiers sacrificed their own lives to save those of their officers, stepping before them and receiving in their own bodies the bullet or the bayonet-thrust aimed at their officers’ breasts. When a favourite fell, woe betide the enemy at the next charge: every Highlander fought as if his arm alone were the instrument of vengeance. When Cameron fell at Quatre Bras, by a shot fired from the upper storey of the farm-house, his men rushed with a wild shout on the building, burst their way in, and avenged by the slaughter of all its occupants, the death of their leader.

Major Murray and the Highlanders at Fort Washington.

While the duty of avenging the death of a beloved officer was incumbent upon all, it devolved with peculiar stringency on his foster-brother, who always kept near his person in battle. This duty is frequently alluded to in the proverbial expressions of the North. “Kindred to twenty (degrees), fosterage to a hundred,” was a received maxim in the code of Celtic ethics. “Woe to the father of the foster-son who is unfaithful to his trust,” is another old saying which proves that this tie was regarded as sacred. Scott has described this singular relationship among the Highlanders in “Waverley,” and many illustrations might be given of the deeds of unselfish devotion to which it gave rise. Often the foster-brother thrust himself before his officer, and shielded him from danger by the sacrifice of his own life. If he had failed to do so, his own mother would have been the first to reproach him for his cowardice—ay, and to disown him as her son. There was much of the old Spartan feeling among these Celtic mothers. The wives of those Northern chiefs seem to have had no great liking for the primary duties of domestic life; instead of rearing their own children, they distributed them among their tenantry, who considered themselves honoured by the confidence thus reposed in them. This singular custom tended to render the tie between the chief and his clan closely intimate: they felt themselves to be members of one great family. Cameron of Fassiefern, with whose portrait our readers are familiar, was followed wherever he went by his faithful henchman and foster-brother, Ewen M’Millan. His devotion to his chief was unbounded; it absorbed every other feeling, and became the master-passion of his life. At the battle of St. Pierre, Ewen gave an amusing proof of his regard, not only for his master, but also for his master’s property. Cameron’s horse, being wounded, fell, and nearly crushed him. A Frenchman rushed forward to bayonet him while thus disabled; but, before the blow had reached, Ewen came up and pierced the Frenchman to the heart. Ewen then raised his master from his dangerous position and conducted him to a place of safety, after which he returned and carried off the saddle on which Cameron had sat. All this was done with the greatest coolness, though the battle was at its height, and the bullets of the enemy were flying on every side. When Ewen rejoined his company, he displayed his trophy to his comrades, and exultingly exclaimed, “We must leave them the carcass, but they sha’n’t get the saddle where Fassiefern sat.” It was evidently a seat of honour, and too sacred an object in Ewen’s eyes to be left in possession of the French; and to save the saddle the disgrace of receiving part of another’s person, he was ready to risk his life. When Cameron fell at Quatre Bras, his devoted foster-brother was in a moment at his side, and, raising him in his arms, he bore him from the field of battle till he found a cart, on which he laid him. Seating himself by his side, he propped the head of his dying chief on his own faithful breast, and tried in vain to stanch the life-blood fast ebbing away. It was all in vain: the bullet had done its deadly work, and Ewen could only weep over the grave of one for whom he would have gladly died. Such faithful attachment deserved to be rewarded, and Cameron’s father provided Ewen with a farm on his own estate when he obtained his discharge after the battle of Waterloo.

It may amuse our readers to learn the opinion of the Highlanders formed by those who have encountered them in the field of battle. Their strange dress, their lofty stature, their unknown tongue, and their singular mode of fighting, all naturally produced a deep impression on the minds of their enemies, who regarded them almost with a feeling of superstition. A French writer, alluding to the battle of Fontenoy, says, “The British behaved well, and could be exceeded in ardour by none but our officers, who animated the troops by their example, when the Highland furies rushed in upon us with more violence than ever did a sea driven by a tempest.” The Highlanders took part in the capture of Guadaloupe; and it appears from letters written from that island that the French had formed the wildest notions regarding the sauvages d’Ecosse (Scotch savages), as they were pleased to term them. They believed that they would neither take nor give quarter, and that they were so nimble that, as no one could catch them, nobody could escape them; that no man had a chance against their broadswords; and that, with a ferocity natural to savages, they made no prisoners, and spared neither man, woman, nor child. As the Highlanders were always in the front during the attack on the island, we need not be surprised that the good people of Guadaloupe quailed at the sight of such a redoubtable foe, and offered but little resistance. Such was the activity of the Highlanders in attacking them at different points, that they believed that they amounted to several thousands, whereas their real strength was only 800. A French general, in reference to the gallantry of the Highlanders at Toulouse, said, “Ah, these are brave soldiers. If they had good officers, I should not like to meet them unless I were well supported.” As their officers had never received much training for war, their bravery was often more conspicuous than their knowledge of the military art.

Keith’s Highlanders particularly distinguished themselves in the German wars which were carried on about the middle of the eighteenth century. Macaulay has shown that the English at one time did not hold their Northern neighbours in high estimation; but it appears that the Germans entertained still more erroneous ideas regarding them. “The Scotch Highlanders,” says a writer in the Vienna Gazette of 1762, “are a people totally different in their dress, manners, and temper from the other inhabitants of Britain. They are caught in the mountains when young, and still run with a surprising degree of swiftness. As they are strangers to fear, they make very good soldiers when disciplined.” The writer proceeds to admit that they are not without some amiable qualities, and charitably concludes his article by expressing a hope “that their king’s laudable, though late, endeavours to civilize and instruct them in the principles of Christianity will meet with success.” The French and Germans, along with Englishmen, have during the last hundred years learned to know the Highlanders better.

We happened the other day to find ourselves in the society of a number of officers, some of whom had seen service in every quarter of the globe. Allusion was made to Highland soldiers, when an English colonel exclaimed, “They are the most troublesome fellows in the service. I have seven of them in my regiment, and they have given me more annoyance about their rights and grievances than all my other men.”

“The reason is very simple,” rejoined an officer, who hailed from the land of the Gael; “you don’t know how to manage them.”

In these simple words may be found the secret cause of the mutinies which so frequently broke out among the Highland regiments when first organized. The government of the day did not know how to manage them: hence insubordination, discontent, and frequent mutiny. The 42nd, or Old Black Watch, was, as we have shown, the first body of Highlanders formed into a regular regiment. Many of the privates were men of good family and liberal education, who were drawn into the service by their natural love of arms. It was distinctly understood that the sphere of their services was not to extend beyond their native country, to which they were warmly attached; and when in March, 1743, they were ordered to proceed to England, many of the leading men of the North, including Lord President Forbes, ventured to remonstrate. Their remonstrances were vain; the government persisted in their resolution, but the suspicions of the Highlanders were disarmed by appealing to their vanity. They were assured that the king was anxious to see so gallant a regiment, and that after being reviewed by royalty they would be allowed to return to their native land. The men were treated with the greatest kindness in the different English towns through which they passed; their warlike bearing and correctness of conduct secured for them the admiration and esteem of all with whom they were brought into contact. On the 14th of May they were reviewed on Finchley Common by Marshal Wade, in the presence of vast crowds who had hurried from London to see les sauvages Ecossais. It was unfortunate the king was not present at this review; his absence induced the Highlanders to lend a ready ear to the insidious report circulated among them by the adherents of the Stuarts that they were about to be transported to the American plantations. The Highlanders were stung to madness by the supposed treachery; but, with characteristic caution, they concealed their intentions till their plans were matured. They whispered to one another that, “after being used as rods to scourge their own countrymen, they were now to be thrown into the fire.” They resolved to die rather than submit to such a fate.

On the night between Tuesday and Wednesday after the review they assembled on a common near Highgate, and commenced their march to the land of their birth. They had friends and sympathisers in the city who supplied them with provisions. Their march was conducted with such secrecy that for a week nothing was known of their route. They had reached Lady Wood, between Brigstock and Deanthorp, about four miles from Oundle, when Captain Ball, an officer of Wade’s regiment of horse, was sent to treat with them. He requested them to lay down their arms and surrender at discretion, but they declared with one voice that they would be cut to pieces rather than submit, unless they were allowed to retain their arms and received a free pardon. All that Captain Ball could promise was to recommend them to mercy; but the pride of the Highlanders revolted at such a proposal.