In consequence of a capitulation with Government, the regular troops who
had served under Lord Dundee were transhipped to France, and,
immediately upon their landing, the officers and others had their rank
confirmed according to the tenor of the commissions and characters which
they bore in Scotland. They were distributed throughout the different
garrisons in the north of France, and, though nominally in the service
of King James, derived their whole means of subsistence from the bounty
of the French monarch. So long as it appeared probable that another
descent was meditated, those gentlemen, who were almost without
exception men of considerable family, assented to this arrangement, but
the destruction of the French fleet under Admiral Tourville, off La
Hogue, led to a material change in their views. After that naval
engagement it became obvious that the cause of the fugitive King was in
the mean time desperate, and the Scottish officers, with no less
gallantry than honour, volunteered a sacrifice which, so far as I know,
has hardly been equalled.
The old and interesting pamphlet written by one of the corps,[2] from
which I have extracted most of the following details, but which is
seldom perused except by the antiquary, states that, "The Scottish
officers, considering that, by the loss of the French Fleet, King
James's restoration would be retarded for some time, and that they were
burdensome to the King of France, being entertained in garrisons on
whole pay, without doing duty, when he had almost all Europe in
confederacy against him, therefore humbly entreated King James to have
them reduced into a company of private sentinels, and choose officers
amongst themselves to command them, assuring his majesty that they would
serve in the meanest circumstances, and undergo the greatest hardships
and fatigues that reason could imagine, or misfortunes inflict, until it
pleased God to restore him. King James commended their generosity and
loyalty, but disapproved of what they proposed, and told them it was
impossible that gentlemen who had served in so honourable posts as
formerly they had enjoyed, and lived in so great plenty and ease, could
ever undergo the fatigue and hardships of private sentinels' duty.
Again, that his own first command was a company of officers, whereof
several died, others, wearied with fatigue, drew their discharges, till
at last it dwindled into nothing, and he got no reputation by the
command: therefore he desired them to insist no more on that project.
The officers (notwithstanding his majesty's desire to the contrary) made
several interests at court, and harassed him so much, that at last he
condescended," and appointed those who were to command them.
Shortly afterwards the new corps was reviewed for the first and last
time by the unfortunate James in the gardens of Saint Germains, and the
tears are said to have gushed from his eyes at the sight of so many
brave men, reduced, through their disinterested and persevering loyalty,
to so very humble a condition. "Gentlemen," said he, "my own misfortunes
are not so nigh my heart as yours. It grieves me beyond what I can
express to see so many brave and worthy gentlemen, who had once the
prospect of being the chief officers in my army, reduced to the stations
of private sentinels. Nothing but your loyalty, and that of a few of my
subjects in Britain, who are forced from their allegiance by the Prince
of Orange, and who, I know, will be ready on all occasions to serve me
and my distressed family, could make me willing to live. The sense of
what all of you have done and undergone for your loyalty hath made so
deep an impression upon my heart, that, if it ever please God to restore
me, it is impossible I can be forgetful of your services and sufferings.
Neither can there be any posts in the armies of my dominions but what
you have just pretensions to. As for my son, your Prince, he is of your
own blood, a child capable of any impression, and, as his education will
be from you, it is not supposable that he can forget your merits. At
your own desires you are now going a long march far distant from me.
Fear God and love one another. Write your wants particularly to me, and
depend upon it always to find me your parent and King." The scene bore a
strong resemblance to one which many years afterwards occurred at
Fontainebleau. The company listened to his words with deep emotion,
gathered round him, as if half repentant of their own desire to go, and
so parted, for ever on this earth, the dethroned monarch and his exiled
subjects.
The number of this company of officers was about one hundred and twenty:
their destination was Perpignan in Rousillon, close upon the frontier of
Spain, where they were to join the army under the command of the
Mareschal de Noailles. Their power of endurance, though often most
severely tested in an unwholesome climate, seems to have been no less
remarkable than their gallantry, which upon many occasions called forth
the warm acknowledgment of the French commanders. "_Le gentilhomme_,"
said one of the generals, in acknowledgment of their readiness at a
peculiarly critical moment, "_est toujours gentilhomme, et se montre
toujours tel dans besoin et dans le danger_"--a eulogy as applicable to
them as it was in later days to La Tour d'Auvergne, styled the first
grenadier of France. At Perpignan they were joined by two other
Scottish companies, and the three seem to have continued to serve
together for several campaigns.
As a proof of the estimation in which they were held, I shall merely
extract a short account of the taking of Rosas in Catalonia, before
referring to the exploit which forms the subject of the following
ballad. "On the 27th of May, the company of officers and other Scottish
companies, were joined by two companies of Irish, to make up a battalion
in order to mount the trenches; and the major part of the officers
listed themselves in the company of grenadiers, under the command of the
brave Major Rutherford, who, on his way to the trenches, in sight of
Mareschal de Noailles and his court, marched with his company on the
side of the trench, which exposed him to the fire of a bastion, where
there were two culverins and several other guns planted; likewise to the
fire of two curtins lined with small shot. Colonel Brown, following with
the battalion, was obliged, in honour, to march the same way Major
Rutherford had done; the danger whereof the Mareschal immediately
perceiving, ordered one of his aides-de-camp to command Rutherford to
march under cover of the trench, which he did; and if he had but delayed
six minutes, the grenadiers and battalion had been cut to pieces.
Rutherford, with his grenadiers, marched to a trench near the town, and
the battalion to a trench on the rear and flank of the grenadiers, who
fired so incessantly on the besieged, that they thought (the trench
being practicable) they were going to make their attacks, immediately
beat a chamade, and were willing to give up the town upon reasonable
terms: but the Mareschal's demands were so exorbitant, that the Governor
could not agree to them. Then firing began on both sides to be very hot;
and they in the town, seeing how the grenadiers lay, killed eight of
them. When the Governor surrendered the town, he inquired of the
Mareschal what countrymen these grenadiers were; and assured him it was
on their account he delivered up the town, because they fired so hotly,
that he believed they were resolved to attack the breach. He answered,
smiling, _'Ces sont mes enfants_--They are my children.' Again; 'they
are the King of Great Britain's Scottish officers, who, to show their
willingness to share of his miseries, have reduced themselves to the
carrying of arms, and chosen to serve under my command.' The next day,
when the Mareschal rode along the front of the camp, he halted at the
company of the officers' piquet, and they all surrounded him. Then, with
his hat in his hand, he thanked them for their good services in the
trenches, and freely acknowledged it was their conduct and courage which
compelled the Governor to give up the town; and assured them he would
acquaint his master with the same, which he did. For when his son
arrived with the news at Versailles, the King, having read the letter,
immediately took coach to St. Germains; and when he had shown King James
the letter, he thanked him for the services his subjects had done in
taking Rosas in Catalonia; who, with concern, replied, they were the
stock of his British officers, and that he was sorry he could not make
better provision for them."
And a miserable provision it was! They were gradually compelled to part
with every remnant of the property which they had secured from the ruins
of their fortunes; so that when they arrived, after various adventures,
at Scelestat, in Alsace, they were literally without the common means of
subsistence. Famine and the sword had, by this time, thinned their
ranks, but had not diminished their spirit, as the following narrative
of their last exploit will show:--
"In December 1697, General Stirk, who commanded for the Germans,
appeared with 16,000 men on the other side of the Rhine, which obliged
the Marquis de Sell to draw out all the garrisons in Alsace, who made up
about 4000 men; and he encamped on the other side of the Rhine, over
against General Stirk, to prevent his passing the Rhine and carrying a
bridge over into an island in the middle of it, which the French foresaw
would be of great prejudice to them. For the enemy's guns, placed on
that island, would extremely gall their camp, which they could not
hinder for the deepness of the water and their wanting of boats--for
which the Marquis quickly sent; but arriving too late, the Germans had
carried a bridge over into the island, where they had posted above five
hundred men, who, by order of their engineers, intrenched themselves:
which the company of officers perceiving, who always grasped after
honour, and scorned all thoughts of danger, resolved to wade the river,
and attack the Germans in the island; and for that effect, desired
Captain John Foster, who then commanded them, to beg of the Marquis that
they might have liberty to attack the Germans in the island; who told
Captain Foster, when the boats came up, they should be the first that
attacked. Foster courteously thanked the Marquis, and told him they
would wade into the island, who shrunk up his shoulders, prayed God to
bless them, and desired them to do what they pleased." Whereupon the
officers, with the other two Scottish companies, made themselves ready;
and having secured their arms round their necks, waded into the river
hand-in-hand, "according to the Highland fashion," with the water as
high as their breasts; and having crossed the heavy stream, fell upon
the Germans in their intrenchment. These were presently thrown into
confusion, and retreated, breaking down their own bridges, whilst many
of them were drowned. This movement, having been made in the dusk of the
evening, partook of the character of a surprise; but it appears to me a
very remarkable one, as having been effected under such circumstances,
in the dead of winter, and in the face of an enemy who possessed the
advantages both of position and of numerical superiority. The author of
the narrative adds:--"When the Marquis de Sell heard the firing, and
understood that the Germans were beat out of the island, he made the
sign of the cross on his face and breast, and declared publicly, that it
was the bravest action that ever he saw, and that his army had no honour
by it. As soon as the boats came, the Marquis sent into the island to
acquaint the officers that he would send them both troops and
provisions, who thanked his Excellency, and desired he should be
informed that they wanted no troops, and could not spare time to make
use of provisions, and only desired spades, shovels, and pickaxes,
wherewith they might intrench themselves--which were immediately sent to
them. The next morning, the Marquis came into the island, and kindly
embraced every officer, and thanked them for the good service they had
done his master, assuring them he would write a true account of their
honour and bravery to the Court of France, which, at the reading his
letters, immediately went to St. Germains, and thanked King James for
the services his subjects had done on the Rhine."
The company kept possession of the island for nearly six weeks,
notwithstanding repeated attempts on the part of the Germans to surprise
and dislodge them; but all these having been defeated by the extreme
watchfulness of the Scots, General Stirk at length drew off his army and
retreated. "In consequence of this action," says the chronicler, "that
island is called at present Isle d'Ecosse, and will in likelihood bear
that name until the general conflagration."
Two years afterwards, a treaty of peace was concluded; and this gallant
company of soldiers, worthy of a better fate, was broken up and
dispersed. At the time when the narrative, from which I have quoted so
freely, was compiled, not more than sixteen of Dundee's veterans were
alive. The author concludes thus,--"And thus was dissolved one of the
best companies that ever marched under command! Gentlemen, who, in the
midst of all their pressures and obscurity, never forgot they were
gentlemen; and whom the sweets of a brave, a just, and honourable
conscience, rendered perhaps more happy under those sufferings, than the
most prosperous and triumphant in iniquity, since our minds stamp our
happiness."
Some years ago, while visiting the ancient Scottish convent at Ratisbon,
my attention was drawn to the monumental inscriptions on the walls of
the dormitory, many of which bear reference to gentlemen of family and
distinction, whose political principles had involved them in the
troubles of 1688, 1715, and 1745. Whether the cloister which now holds
their dust had afforded them a shelter in the later years of their
misfortunes, I know not; but for one that is so commemorated, hundreds
of the exiles must have passed away in obscurity, buried in the field on
which they fell, or carried from the damp vaults of the military
hospital to the trench, without any token of remembrance, or any other
wish beyond that which the minstrels have ascribed to one of the
greatest of our olden heroes--
"Oh bury me by the bracken bush,
Beneath the blooming brier:
Let never living mortal ken
That a kindly Scot lies here!"