But hark! what means yon dismal wail—
The shriek that’s borne upon the gale?
It comes from India’s sultry plain—
It calls for vengeance from the slain,
Nor calls in vain to Scotland.
’Tis the destroying hordes of hell,
Whose hearts with fiendish passions swell,
Whose swords on ruined Beauty fell—
The Brave, the Fair, the Weak. Farewell!
Ye’ll be revenged by Scotland.
Then Scotland, by brave Havelock led,
Rush’d o’er the field of murder’d dead,
Fighting for “bleeding Beauty’s” sake—
The very earth itself might quake
Beneath the wrath o’ Scotland.
Haste ye to Lucknow’s fainting brave;
Too long they’ve battled with the slave—
The weak and helpless Fair to save
From rapine, ruin, and the grave—
Hope comes wi’ bonnie Scotland.
And now brave Havelock’s work is done;
He sets like to the evening sun;
By him the crown of glory’s won—
His God, beholding, saith “Well done!”
The Lost—the Loved o’ Scotland.
PERSIA—INDIA—1817–1862.
Escaping from the tedious details of peaceful service which for upwards
of forty years mark the history of the Seventy-eighth, we now follow
that gallant regiment to India—the scene of its early glory, and since
embalmed in our memory, as presenting the most splendid testimony to its
heroic character.
[Illustration: INDIA.]
In 1857 we find it transferred from Bombay to Persia, and engaged in the
expedition destined to chastise its vainglorious and presumptuous
monarch. An easy triumph crowned the efforts of our arms. At Koosh-ab
the Seventy-eighth was present with credit; although that success was
achieved rather by diligent perseverance in long marches and battling
with inclement weather, than by any very remarkable feat of arms. This
name and that of “Persia” were gained for the regimental colour during
the campaign, in scenery hallowed by sacred memories, being supposed to
be the site of the garden of Eden.
But we hasten to look upon a darker picture—to find our Indian empire on
the verge of ruin, convulsed as in the agonies of dissolution; its
native military, whom we had trusted and boasted, become traitors; their
smothered vengeance, cherished through years of duplicity, bursting
forth to deluge our vast dominion, and almost wrest it from us by a
cruel rebellion; all that once gloried in the very name of British
doomed by an unpitying and relentless revenge to utter destruction,
consigned to be the subjects of a gigantic perfidy. The mine had
exploded, and awful were the horrors of the tragedy it revealed!
Helplessness consumed by the devouring sword; beauty wasted by demons of
lust and passion; hopeless bravery sacrificed to satisfy a bloody
appetite—whilst with fiendish shouts the villains gloated over the
murders in which their hands were embrued and which stained their souls,
and rejoiced in the atrocities they had committed.
Never was the British soldier placed in circumstances so trying, and
never did he display such heroism—a heroism which, equal to the
emergency, was alone able to deliver him from the foul conspiracy of
150,000 armed and trained rebels, who encircled him and thirsted
vehemently for his blood.
Delhi, the great central tower of rebellious strength, was the scene of
months of hard fighting and sore privation; but over all these British
valour triumphing, was rewarded in the reduction of that important
stronghold, and the utter discomfiture of its daring defenders. But
Lucknow reversed the picture. There we find the British besieged by a
countless host of the enemy; there we regard a handful of brave men
resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possible, rather than yield to
the ruthless rebels who in multitudes encompassed the Residency. To save
the brave garrison from the terrible fate which threatened them, and
release the crowd of starving and emaciated women and children who,
claiming the protection of the soldier, had found shelter there—to save
and relieve these, a little army might have been seen advancing by rapid
marches, encountering the greatest dangers, and eagerly pressing onwards
to avenge their slaughtered friends. Stirred to marvellous achievements
by the appalling traces of massacre perpetrated on the helpless and
innocent, and which were too apparent all around—roused to heroic
action, nerved to meet death or conquer in the awful and unequal
struggle, the little army of Brigadier-General Havelock pressed
vigorously forward to help and to avenge. It comprised of _European
Troops_: The third company of the eighth battalion of Royal Artillery,
(76 men); the First Madras Fusiliers, (376 men); the Sixty-fourth
Regiment of Foot, (435 men); the Seventy-eighth Highlanders, (284 men);
the Eighty-fourth Regiment of foot, (190 men); Bengal Artillery, (22
men); Volunteer Cavalry, (20 men). _Native Troops_: Ferozepore Regiment,
(448 men); the Thirteenth Irregular, and the Third Oude Irregular
Cavalry, (95 men); Galundauze (18 men).
From Cawnpore the rebels had pushed forward to Futtehpore, purposing to
destroy a small detachment of British under Major Renaul, but these
having succeeded in effecting a timeous junction with the army of
Havelock, the mutineers, amounting to 3,500, were encountered by that
chief, and in a few minutes totally routed. The victory was ascribed by
the conqueror “to the British artillery, to the Enfield rifle, to
British pluck, and to the blessing of Almighty God.”
On the 15th July Brigadier-General Havelock came up with the enemy first
at the village of Aeng, and next at the bridge over the Pandoo Nudee,
and was successful in each instance. Anew in position under Nena Sahib
(Doondoo Punt), the rebels made a momentary stand at Ahirwa, but were
immediately defeated by a brilliant charge of our Highlanders. The
arch-traitor Nena Sahib, finding himself closely pressed by the British
column, and unable to defend Cawnpore, retired from that fortress, after
having, with savage barbarity, massacred the women and children who by
the foulest perfidy had fallen into his power. The remains of these
victims of his cruelty were afterwards discovered in the bottom of a
well; and the horrors of the tragedy are said so to have moved the soul
of our Highlanders, that, vowing an oath of vengeance on the
blood-stained spot, they were stirred to redeem it on subsequent
occasions. Pursuing the enemy in the course of his memorable march to
Lucknow, Havelock defeated a strong body of rebels gathered near Unao.
Thrice he attacked, and thrice he routed the mutineers who had as often
congregated at Busherut Gunge, and once at Bithoor. Cholera attacking
the British troops, so crippled the little army that, surrounded by
foes, Havelock was compelled to delay his further advance until
reinforced by Sir James Outram. On the arrival of these fresh troops on
16th September, the command, by seniority, devolved upon Sir James
Outram; but with a chivalrous feeling highly to be admired, that
excellent officer waived his claim, desiring Major-General Havelock to
finish the good work he had so well begun and was so nigh gloriously
completing, Sir James serving in subordination as a volunteer.
“On the 19th and 20th of September, the relieving force, amounting to
about two thousand five hundred men, and seventeen guns, crossed the
Ganges. The Fifth Fusiliers, Eighty-fourth, detachments of the
Sixty-fourth, and First Madras Fusiliers, composed the first infantry
brigade, under Brigadier-General Neill; the Seventy-eighth Highlanders,
Ninetieth Light Infantry, and the Sikh Ferozepore Regiment, made up the
second brigade, under Brigadier Hamilton of the Seventy-eighth; Major
Cooper commanded the artillery brigade, consisting of Captains Maude,
Oliphant, and Major Eyre’s batteries; Captain Borrow commanded the
Volunteers and Irregular Cavalry.”
[Illustration:
SIR HENRY HAVELOCK.
THE SEVENTY-EIGHTH, OR “ROSS-SHIRE BUFFS.”
]
Having distributed the army, Havelock resumed his forward march, and
after encountering several powerful bodies of the rebels, and always
with the same success as hitherto, Lucknow was reached, and the
beleaguered and almost despairing garrison relieved. This happy result
was dearly purchased by the death of Brigadier-General Neill, a most
gallant and able officer. Colonel Hamilton, who led the Seventy-eighth
amid these labyrinthian dangers, won a distinguished name by his valour
and coolness in many critical moments.
Most deeply regretted, the hero who had achieved this crowning triumph
fell asleep in the very arms of victory. The living exponent of all that
was truly noble, generous, brave, and heavenly, entered into his rest,
there to enjoy the better blessing of his God, to wear the crown of
glory which cannot fade, and which is more to be desired than all the
perishing treasures of earth, the gilded pageant of a world’s renown, or
even the fitful gratitude of his country. Such was the death of Sir
Henry Havelock, which almost immediately followed the final relief of
Lucknow by our deservedly favourite chieftain, Sir Colin Campbell (now
Lord Clyde).
“Brave Havelock’s gone! let Britain mourn—
Her brightest, boldest hero’s gone;
Strew Indian laurels round his tomb,
For there he glorious triumphs won.
“There he accomplished deeds of might,
Which stamp’d him bravest of the brave—
Cut through a host, put foes to flight,
And helpless prisoners dared to save.
“A Christian warrior—stern, yet mild,
He fought for Heaven, his Saviour’s home,
Yet shrunk not from the battle-field,
Where all his talents brightly shone.
“But now Death’s mandate from on high
His Father called; he was prepared
For mansions sure beyond the sky;
Earth’s honours could not him reward.
“And now he’s buried with the brave—
His battle’s fought, his vict’ry’s won;
His country’s cause he died to save,
Nor sunk until his work was done.
“Let England, then, embalm his name—
’Mongst heroes he may justly shine;
For soldier he of nobler fame—
His banner bore the stamp Divine.”
In the latter defence of Lucknow the Seventy-eighth sustained a
prominent and a very honourable part, cheerfully enduring the privations
of a straitened and continued siege, and ever foremost in repelling the
foe when he dared to attack.
The heart of the Scottish people followed with a yearning interest the
movements of the Seventy-eighth throughout this memorable campaign. With
gratitude our countrymen hailed the regiment, when a kind Providence
recently restored it to its native land, where every grade of society
united to do honour to that bravery which so conspicuously graced our
national history upon the dismal page of the Indian mutiny, and in
commemoration thereof a monument has been erected in Edinburgh, an
Illustration of which is given in this work. We close our sketch with
the feeling that words have failed to express the just admiration with
which we must ever regard this, the “scion of the Seaforth,” the
“Saviour of India.”
[Illustration]
INAUGURATION OF THE MONUMENT TO THE SEVENTY-EIGHTH, EDINBURGH.
[Illustration: PRESENTATION PLATE TO THE SEVENTY-EIGHTH AS THE SAVIOURS
OF INDIA.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE SEVENTY-NINTH FOOT;
OR,
CAMERON HIGHLANDERS.