Often, indeed, in the history of the Highland regiments—
“Shine martial Faith and Courtesy’s bright star
Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow of War.”
We could multiply instances of their kindness and forbearance to the helpless inhabitants of foreign lands, whom they might have plundered with impunity, and of the proofs of gratitude shown by the latter to their benefactors.
Alluding to the services of Keith’s and Campbell’s Highlanders with the allied army in Germany in 1759, the Vienna Gazette of 1762 says—“From the goodness of their disposition in everything, the boors are much better treated by these savages than by the polished French and English.”
When these two regiments were ordered home, such was the character they had established for themselves during three campaigns that the inhabitants of Holland welcomed them with acclamations on their march through that country, and the women crowded around them and presented them with laurel-leaves. This display of friendly feeling may have been owing partly to the long services of the Scotch Brigade in the Dutch service, and the frequent intercourse between the two countries; but it was elicited in a great measure by the excellent conduct of the Highlanders themselves. After landing at Tilbury Fort, they marched for Scotland, and were treated with the most marked attention by the citizens of the different towns where they halted, especially by those of Derby, who presented the men with gratuities in money. This unusual liberality is said to have sprung from a grateful remembrance of the respect shown for their persons and property by the Highlanders when they visited the town in 1745, under the command of Charles Edward, the Young Pretender.
Some of these Highlanders had given a remarkable proof of the high spirit of honour which prevailed among them before leaving Scotland. Every one is familiar with the massacre of Glencoe, that detestable deed of butchery the details of which, after the lapse of more than a century, cannot be read without a shudder of horror. Part of the Mac Ians had escaped, and when Charles Edward landed in the North, their young chief joined his standard with a hundred and fifty men, and accompanied him in his march to the South. At first success attended his arms, and the Highland army passed near a beautiful mansion, the property of the Earl of Stair, whose forefather of the same name, from motives of private revenge, had caused the unfortunate Mac Ians to be murdered in cold blood by those whom they had welcomed as friends. It was part of the policy of Prince Charles to conciliate the Lowland proprietors who still kept aloof from his cause, and a guard was posted for the protection of Lord Stair’s house, which was believed to be in some danger of being attacked by the Mac Ians in revenge for the massacre of their forefathers. No sooner had the chief of Glencoe heard of this precaution than he deemed his honour insulted, and demanded an interview with the prince.
“If a guard must be posted here,” he said, “let the Mac Ians, who have most reason to hate the name of Dalrymple, supply that guard. If you refuse this request it must be from want of confidence in the MacIans, who, finding themselves distrusted, can no longer follow your standard. They are willing to die for you, but they will not submit to the insult of being watched by others.”
Glencoe.