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

It was fortunate that the prince understood the character of the young MacIan, and granted his request. The guard was duly posted, and the mansion of the Dalrymples received no injury. When we consider that old Lord Stair was the author of the massacre of Glencoe, and that revenge among the Highlanders was almost a sacred duty, we cannot withhold our admiration from the chief who could restrain his men on such an occasion, and from the men who voluntarily submitted to such restraint. The name of young MacIan of Glencoe is worthy of being ranked with those of Scipio and other heroes of antiquity, who knew how to practise, under the pressure of strong temptation, the difficult duty of self-denial.

“This murderous chief, this ruthless man,

This head of a rebellious clan,”

spared the mansion of his hereditary foe.

Such were the elements of which our Highland regiments were formed. When the mountaineers transferred their services to the House of Hanover, they did not lose their distinctive character; they shrank from no duty, however dangerous, but they never inflicted unnecessary suffering on the unprotected. The latter were always prepared to express their sense of their forbearance, and to lament their removal to another station. After the battle of Waterloo the 78th Regiment did garrison duty at Brussels till 1816, when they received orders to return home. The inhabitants had come to regard them as a part of themselves, and requested the mayor to try to prevent their removal. This could not be done, but the mayor expressed the feeling of his fellow-citizens by issuing the following document:—“As Mayor of Brussels, I have pleasure in declaring that the Scotch Highlanders who were garrisoned in this city during the years 1814 and 1815 called forth the attachment and esteem of all by the mildness and suavity of their manners and excellent conduct, insomuch that a representation was made to me by the inhabitants, requesting me to endeavour to detain the 78th Regiment of Scotchmen in the town, and to prevent their being replaced by other troops.” The mayor’s eulogium applies to all the Highland regiments stationed at Brussels, but the 78th were the best known because they had been longest there. Les braves Flamands witnessed their departure with the liveliest feelings of regret. “They are kind as well as brave;” “they are part of ourselves” (enfans de famille); “they are lions in the field, lambs in the house.” Such were the expressions that greeted the plumed warriors of the North as they marched for the last time through the streets of Brussels.

Nor was it in foreign lands alone that the Highlanders secured the confidence and esteem of the inhabitants by their good conduct. The 92nd, or Gordon Highlanders, who were embodied in 1794, and derived their name from having been raised chiefly on the estates of the Duke of Gordon, in the counties of Aberdeen, Banff, and Inverness, were ordered to Ireland in 1798, to assist in quelling the insurrection which had broken out in that unfortunate country. Nothing could be more trying to the temper of the men than the duties they had to perform. They were constantly moved from place to place in the midst of a hostile population. On one occasion they had to march ninety-six Irish miles in three successive days, with arms, ammunition, and knapsacks. Notwithstanding their arduous duties, and the avowed hostility of the population to the red-coats, the Gordon Highlanders conducted themselves with such forbearance, that, on their being removed elsewhere, public testimony was borne to the fact that they had been “exemplary in all duties; sober, orderly, and regular in quarters.” They had earned the same good character when stationed in the island of Corsica in 1795, and such was the estimation in which they were held in Ireland, that a parting address was presented to the Marquis of Huntly, the colonel of the regiment, in which it is said that “peace and order were re-established, rapine had disappeared, confidence in the government was restored, and the happiest cordiality subsisted since his regiment came among them.” Many of the privates in this regiment belonged to a different class from those who usually enter the army; they were the sons of respectable farmers, who had been induced to enlist by the personal influence and blandishments of the beautiful Duchess of Gordon, the mother of their colonel.

In the Peninsula the conduct of the 92nd was as exemplary as in Ireland. Unmoved by hunger and the example of others, they respected the lives and property of those who could offer no resistance. Napier has rendered his readers familiar with the horrors which followed the capture of St. Sebastian in Spain. A more pleasing picture is presented by the conduct of the Gordon Highlanders and the old “fighting 50th” when they drove the French from the town of Aire on the 2nd of March, 1814. Places thus captured were almost invariably given up to pillage and destruction, and the miserable inhabitants deemed themselves fortunate if they escaped with their lives. On this occasion there was not a single act of plunder or violence; the Highlanders took quiet possession of the town, and paid for every article they required. Their generous forbearance produced such an impression on the inhabitants of Aire, that they presented an address to Colonel Cameron expressive of their gratitude for exemption from plunder and rapine, the usual fate of the defenceless in times of war. The Highlanders have always been popular in Ireland; they are sprung from the same Celtic stock, and speak a dialect of the same language. Though they had no sympathy with the Irish during the rebellion of 1798, and took an active part in quelling it, they were guilty of no unnecessary cruelty, and discharged their duty in such a way as to conciliate the esteem of those who were opposed to them. It was said of them that “their conduct and manners softened the horrors of war, and they were not a week in a fresh quarter or cantonment that they did not conciliate and become intimate with the people.”

At this period duelling was an established custom in the British army, and some of the Highland officers were as ready to take offence as Sir Lucius O’Trigger in The Rivals, or the redoubtable Captain MacTurk in St. Ronan’s Well. They were jealous of their personal honour, and as ready to challenge one another as those of a different race. We read of a Captain Campbell who fought a duel in a dark room without seconds, and killed his opponent. The absence of witnesses led the jury to give a verdict of murder, and the unfortunate man was hanged. A duel was fought at Gibraltar, in 1795, between Captain, afterwards Colonel Cameron, and Lieutenant, afterwards Sir John Maclean, in consequence of some disputed point of precedency. Both escaped without any serious injury. The Marquis of Huntly, the colonel of the 92nd, to which Cameron and Maclean belonged, took them to task for their conduct, and warned his officers against the practice of duelling. “I have the more right to insist upon this,” he said, “as I believe you are all, more or less, connected with my father’s estates.” The hot-blooded Cameron started to his feet. “I,” he exclaimed, “have no connexion with your father’s estates or your father’s clan; such an argument, therefore, cannot apply to me.” The marquis knew how to soothe his wounded feelings, and this was his first and last duel. Nothing more readily rouses a Highlander’s ire than any insult offered to his country, his language, or his dress, and strangers, ignorant of this peculiarity, were sometimes involved in quarrels without any intention of giving offence. We remember the case of an English officer, the nephew of an archbishop, who happened to be seated at a mess-room table opposite to a Highlander who wore the national costume, the uniform of his regiment. They were strangers to one another, and it was their first and last meeting in this world. The English officer made some bantering remark on the Highlander’s dress, which was regarded by the latter as an insult, and led to an immediate challenge. They agreed to settle their difference at once, and on the first exchange of shots poor Mr. ⸺, the English officer, fell. Highland soldiers have now learned to bear any amount of “chaff” on their national peculiarities without taking offence, but national feeling was stronger and more sensitive in former days, and the barbarous custom of duelling often led to death in cases where an apology would now be deemed ample atonement. It is somewhat remarkable that the horror excited by the death of an Indian officer, slain in mortal combat by his own brother-in-law, an officer of the Life Guards, and a Highlander by birth, produced such a reaction, that the custom of duelling—that barbarous relic of a barbarous age—may now be regarded as obsolete.

An interesting work might be written on the female warriors of all nations, including the standing army of the King of Dahomey. In every country and in every age there have been men who, in point of valour, were women; and women who, in point of valour, were men. The Amazons of antiquity, the vivandières of France, and the camp followers of the British army, would all be entitled to some passing notice; but more attractive still would be the personal history of those women who, instigated by the promptings of valour or love, have entered the army and served for years without their sex being discovered. The wives of soldiers who have followed their husbands to the field, sharing their dangers and ministering to the wants of the wounded, might also find place in such a work, to which we willingly present the following contribution. Towards the close of last century, a stalwart, buxom Scottish lass became the wife of a private in the 42nd Highlanders, and was permitted to accompany the regiment when it embarked, in 1795, to take part in the expedition to the West Indies. She soon learned to share in all the hardships and dangers of a soldier’s life, was frequently under fire, and became as skilful in dressing wounds as the most experienced surgeon. She was known to every one in the regiment, and was equally a favourite with officers and men. She was present at, and took part in, the attack on the island of St. Vincent, then occupied by the French and the insurgent natives. In one of the skirmishes between the 42nd and the enemy, Lieutenant-Colonel Graham was severely wounded, and left insensible on the field. After a time his own men returned and, believing him to be dead, dragged his body across the rough channel of the river to the sea-beach. The motion elicited some signs of life, and they hastened in search of a surgeon; meanwhile the body was borne along in a blanket for about four miles till they reached a post occupied by the 42nd. Colonel Graham still continued insensible, and no surgeon could be found to dress his wounds or restore him to consciousness. It was plain then, unless something were done at once he could not long survive, as a bullet had entered his side, come out beneath his breast, and shattered two of his fingers. He was already exhausted with the loss of blood. Fortunately for him our Highland Amazon was at this post, and at once proceeded to act the part of the good Samaritan. She washed his wounds, and bound them up with such skill that the surgeons, on their arrival, did not find it necessary to unloose the dressing. The colonel remained in a dangerous state for three weeks, when he was removed to England, where he gradually recovered and rose to the rank of Lieutenant-General and Governor of Stirling Castle. It is to be hoped that he did not forget the kind-hearted woman to whom he owed his life.