It was the 21st Of October, 1808. Colin Campbell, not yet sixteen,
had joined the army as ensign; and the battle of Vimiera was about to
begin.
It was his "baptism of fire". Colin was in the rear company. His
captain came for him, and taking the lad's hand walked with him up and
down in front of the leading company for several minutes, whilst the
enemy's guns were commencing to fire. Then he told the youngster to go
back to his place.
"It was the greatest kindness that could have been shown to me at such
a time; and through life I have felt grateful for it," wrote Colin
Campbell in later life of this incident.
Soon after, the regiment to which he belonged formed part of the army
that retreated to Corunna, when our troops suffered such terrible
hardships. Colin Campbell had a rough time of it then. The soles of
his boots were worn to pieces, and so long a time did he wear them
without a change that the uppers stuck firmly to his legs; and, though
the boots were soaked in hot water, the skin came away when they were
taken off.
After the battle of Corunna,--when the British brought to bay, turned
and defeated their foes,--it was Colin's regiment that had the honour
of digging the grave in which their heroic commander Sir John Moore
was buried.
Battle after battle followed ere the French troops were driven out of
Spain, and Colin Campbell, young as he was, fought like a veteran.
At Barossa his bravery brought him into special notice, and at the San
Sebastian he led a storming party, and was twice wounded in doing so.
First of all he was shot through the right thigh; but though a storm
of bullets was flying about, and men falling thick around him, he was
up again, and pressed onward only to be again shot down.
For his gallant conduct on this occasion he was specially mentioned in
the despatch that the general commanding the forces sent to the Duke
of Wellington.
A few weeks later the troops moved on, and fought at the battle of
Bidassoa, Colin Campbell being left in the hospital to recover from
his wounds.
But so little was it to his liking to stay in the rear that he escaped
from the hospital, and managed not only to fight at Bidassoa, but to
get wounded again!
He was, of course, reproved by his colonel; but who could be seriously
angry with a youngster for such conduct? So when he was sent back to
England to get healed of his wounds, he was made a captain at the
early age of twenty-one.
Among the first things that Colin Campbell did when he received his
captain's pay was to make his father an allowance of £30 or £40 a
year; and later on it was an immense satisfaction for him to be able
to provide both for his father and sister.
In the Chinese war of 1842 he was in command of the 98th Regiment. The
tremendous heat of the country during the summer terribly thinned the
ranks of his forces, and he lost over 400 men in eighteen months. He
himself was struck down by sunstroke and fever; but, owing probably to
his temperate and careful habits, he soon recovered.
After the Chinese war, Colin Campbell was busy in India, and at
Chillianwallah was wounded in the arm. It was in this battle he
narrowly escaped with his life. The day after the fight, when he was
being assisted to take off his uniform, he found that a small pistol
which had been put in his pocket without his knowledge was broken,
his watch smashed, and his side bruised. A bullet had struck him,
unperceived in the heat of the battle, and his life saved by its force
having been arrested by the handle of the pistol.
In 1849 Colin Campbell was made a K.C.B. (Knight Commander of the
Bath); so we must henceforth speak of him as "Sir" Colin.
March, 1853, saw Sir Colin Campbell in England; but though he had
passed his sixtieth year, most of which had been spent in his
country's service, his rest was not of long duration, as in 1854 he
went out to the Crimea in command of the Highland brigade, consisting
of the 42nd, 79th, and 93rd regiments. Sir Colin was proud of the
splendid troops he commanded, and at the battle of the Alma they
covered themselves with glory.
The 42nd (the Black Watch) were the first of the three regiments
across the river Alma. Whilst ascending the height on the Russian side
of the river, Sir Colin's horse was twice wounded, the second shot
killing it; but he was soon mounted on another horse, leading his men
to victory.
The Guards and Highlanders strove in friendly emulation who should be
first in the Russian redoubt; but Sir Colin, well ahead of his own men
was first in the battery shouting:--
"We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here!" and his troops rushed in
after him like lions.
The terrific charge of these fierce Highlanders, combined with their
dress, struck terror into the hearts of the Russians; who said that
they thought they had come to fight men, but did not bargain for
demons in petticoats!
"Now, men," Sir Colin had said before the engagement, "you are going
into battle. Remember this: Whoever is wounded--I don't care what his
rank is--must lie where he falls till the bandsmen come to attend to
him.... Be steady. Keep silent. Fire low. Now, men, the army will
watch us. Make me proud of the Highland brigade!"
At the conclusion of that well-fought day the commander-in-chief, Lord
Raglan, sent for Sir Colin. His eyes were full, his lips quivered, and
he was unable to speak; but he gave Campbell a hearty handshake and a
look which spoke volumes.
That was a joyful day for Sir Colin.
"My men behaved nobly," he writes. "I never saw troops march to
battle with greater _sang froid_ and order than these three Highland
regiments."
The Alma had been fought on 20th September, 1854, and on the 25th
October was fought the battle of Balaclava, memorable for the "Thin
Red Line". It looked, at one time, as if the heavy masses of Russian
cavalry must entirely crush Sir Colin's Highlanders; and their
commander, riding down the line of his troops, said: "Remember, there
is no retreat from here, men; you must die where you stand".
"Ay, ay, Sir Colin, we'll do that," came the ready response. Now, it
was usual, in preparing to receive a cavalry charge, for soldiers to
be formed in a hollow square; but on this occasion Sir Colin ranged
his men, two deep, in a _thin red line_, which has become memorable in
the annals of the British army. The Russian cavalry were advancing,
but, instead of the masses which were expected to make the attack,
only about 400 came on.
Sir Colin's men, fierce and eager for the onset, would have dashed
from behind the hillock where they were stationed, but for the stern
voice commanding them to stand firm in their ranks.
The Russians hardly waited for their fire. Startled by the red-coated
Britishers rising up at the word of their leader, they broke and fled;
and the men of the 93rd, who, but a little before, had made up their
minds to die where they stood, saw as in a dream their enemies
scattered and broken; and the cloud of horsemen which had threatened
to engulf and annihilate them, make no effort to snatch the victory
which seemed within their grasp.
Before the Crimean war was over, Sir Colin resigned his command, and
returned to England, as a protest against an affront he had received.
Honoured by the Queen with a command to attend her at Windsor, he was
asked by her Majesty to return to the Crimea; and the veteran assented
at once, declaring he would serve under a corporal if she wished it.
The Russian war was soon concluded; and Sir Colin thought that at
length he had finished soldiering. But it was not to be. In the summer
of 1857 the Indian Mutiny broke out, and on 11th July he was asked how
soon he could start for India. The old soldier of sixty-five replied
that he could go the same evening; and on the very next day, Sunday,
he was on his way to take command of the British army in India.
As the Mutiny is alluded to briefly in the story of Havelock, I will
only state that Sir Colin's vigorous, cautious, skilful policy ere
long brought this fearful rebellion to a close.
For his able conduct of the war he was warmly thanked by the Queen;
and at its conclusion was raised to the peerage, under the title
of Lord Clyde. Colin Campbell was an admirable soldier, firm in
discipline, setting a good example, ever thoughtful for the comfort
and well-being of his men, sharing in all the hardships and perils
they passed through. It is, therefore, not surprising that his men
loved him.
Not that he was by any means a perfect man. He had a temper--a very
hasty and passionate temper too, and one that troubled him a good
deal; but he was on the watch for that to see it did not get the
better of him.
Here is an entry from his diary of 5th March, 1846, showing something
of the character of the man. "Anniversary of Barossa. An old story
thirty years ago. Thank God for all His goodness to me'! Although I
have suffered much from ill health, and in many ways, I am still as
active as any man in the regiment, and quite as able as the youngest
to go through fatigue."
Let us just glance at the way this victor in a hundred fights regarded
the approach of death.
He prepared for his end with a humility as worthy of example as his
deeds in the army had been. "Mind this," he said to his old friend
General Eyre, "I die at peace with all the world."
He frequently asked Mrs. Eyre to pray with him, and to read the Bible
aloud.
"Oh! for the pure air of Heaven," he once exclaimed, "that I might be
laid at rest and peace on the lap of the Almighty!"
He suffered a good deal in his last illness, and at times would jump
up as if he heard the bugle, and exclaim:--
"I am ready!"
And so; when he passed away on the 14th August, 1863, in his
seventy-first year, "lamented by the Queen, the army, and the people,"
he was quite ready to meet that last enemy, death, whom he had faced
so often on the field of battle.