the historic achievement of the 15th Hussars at Emsdorf. It was in
July, 1760, that Major Erskine halted his troopers near the German
village of Emsdorf, and bade them pluck the fresh twigs from the
overhanging oaks, with a word of exhortation to the effect that they
would acquit themselves with the firmness and stubbornness which have
always been ascribed to that symbolic tree. Not long after this, the
15th formed part of the Prince of Brunswick's troops, which had
surrounded six battalions of French infantry, together with some
artillery, and a regiment of hussars. The enemy eventually broke
through, and fled, pursued by the 15th, who were unassisted. So hot was
the pursuit, and so terrible the punishment inflicted by our hussars,
that the enemy was forced to surrender no less than 177 officers, 2,482
men, nine guns, six pairs of colours, and all the rams and baggage.
All England rang with this achievement of the 15th Light Dragoons, and
never has a squadron received so whole-hearted a eulogy as that
contained in the General Order issued by the Prince of Brunswick. For
many a day "Elliott's Regiment" bore "Emsdorf" on its guidons and
appointments, while upon their helmets was written, "Five battalions of
French defeated and taken by this regiment, with their colours, and
nine pieces of cannon. Emsdorf, 16th July, 1760." Now, as the regiment
has become Hussars, the helmet has given place to the busby with no
inscription; the guidons have disappeared, but the name "Emsdorf" may
still be seen on the drum-cloth.
The 15th were prominent in all the achievements of our army during the
next few years of that campaign. Many are the stories of dashing
assault, grim fighting and heroic rescue, related of them during that
time. When the Duke of Brunswick was surrounded by French Hussars at
Friedburg, and it seemed impossible to prevent his capture, the 15th
Hussars clapped spurs to their horses, and, with a terrific yell, swept
down upon the French at full gallop. It was a body of determined men
against overwhelming numbers; for, when they had driven back the
hussars, they were still involved with the converging squadrons. But,
with desperate valour they held their own until they had extricated
their leader, and then they rode back, leaving double their number of
the enemy dead on the field.
The 15th Hussars were in the thick of the fight at Waterloo, and they
bravely upheld that honour. After suffering great loss in the enemy's
fire they made a dashing charge through storms of lead from both flanks
against a superior force of cuirassiers, whom they drove back with
heavy losses. The Official Record states: "From this period the
regiment made furious charges ... at one moment it was cutting down the
musketeers, at the next it was engaged with lancers, and, when these
were driven back, it encountered cuirassiers." For this glorious
exploit they paid honourably with three officers, two sergeants, and
twenty-three privates killed; seven officers, three sergeants and forty
privates wounded.
The 15th Hussars rendered heroic service in the Afghan War of 1878-80,
when the treacherous Shere Ali was discovered favouring Russian
intrigue. Many were the brilliant achievements of the 15th during this
war, from Ali Musjid up to the investment of the Sherpur Cantonments,
the final relief by Gough's Brigade, and the complete victory at
Kandahar.
* * * * *
THEIR BADGE AND BATTLE HONOURS, ETC.
BADGE.--The Crest of England within the Garter.
MOTTO.--"Merebimur."
BATTLE HONOURS.--Emsdorf, Villers-en-Couché, Egmont-op-Zee,
Sahagun, Vittoria, Peninsula, Waterloo, Afghanistan 1878-80.
UNIFORM.--Blue, scarlet busby-bag and plume.
18TH HUSSARS
(DROGHEDA LIGHT HORSE)
The generic name of the 18th Hussars (Drogheda Light Horse) was
bestowed specifically upon the corps raised in Ireland in 1759 by the
Marquis of Drogheda, and numbered as the 19th Light Dragoons. It was
renumbered as the 18th Light Dragoons in 1763, became a Hussar corps in
1807, and was disbanded as the 18th Light Dragoons in 1821.
The present 18th Hussars were raised at Leeds in 1858, and inherited
the honours of the Drogheda Light Horse proper. The silver trumpets
used by the Drogheda Light Horse, and now in the possession of the 18th
Hussars, were provided out of the proceeds of the sale of the captured
horses at the Battle of Waterloo. The motto of the 18th Hussars is "Pro
Rege, pro Lege, pro Patria Conamur" (We fight for King, Law, and
Country).
There is a traditional romance in the annals of the 18th Hussars which
has its confirmation in modern history. A beautiful Spanish lady,
finding herself a refugee with Wellington's forces in the Peninsula,
fell in love with a young English officer named Harry Smith, and
married him. By statesmanship and prowess in war he rose to be Sir
Harry Smith, who commanded the forces that defeated the Boers at
Boomplatz. Subsequently, the town of Ladysmith was so named after his
wife. In this way the Peninsula is linked with South Africa in the
annals of the 18th Hussars, not only by equal deeds in each campaign,
but by a never-to-be-forgotten romance of real life.
* * * * *
THEIR BATTLE HONOURS. ETC.
MOTTO.--"Pro Rege, pro Lege, pro Patria conamur."
BATTLE HONOURS.--Peninsula, Waterloo, S. Africa 1899-1902,
Defence of Ladysmith.
UNIFORM.--Blue, blue bushy-bag, scarlet and white plume.
THE GRENADIER GUARDS
("THE OLD EYES")
"Though old in glory and honour
They have yet the vigour of youth."
High in the estimation of every son and daughter of Britain stands that
heroic band, the British Grenadiers. Their deeds have brought a fine
thrill to every heart, and a stirring song to every voice; and, though
there have been times when a pall of necessary silence, covering a
"certain liveliness," has been imposed by the fog of a world-war, we
have felt calmly assured that behind that fog our British Grenadiers
were doing, or dying, in a way that must awaken the old thrill, and
inspire a new song.
It has always been one of the greatest aids to success in battle to sum
up the daring deeds of the past; the successes against fearful odds;
the forlorn hopes bravely led; the breaches filled with our British
dead; the stubborn resistance, and sometimes complete annihilation of
one part for the success of the whole; the lofty sacrifice of the
foremost, so that the hindmost may turn the tide of battle; and the
heroic dash to certain death, which has always given birth to victory.
And this aid of tradition has been accorded by their own deeds, and by
the nation's appreciation, to none more strongly than to the British
Grenadiers.
Yet it must be remembered that the Grenadier Guards, though they share
the honour and glory of all Grenadiers, were never really Grenadiers
proper. They won the name at Waterloo, where they vanquished the French
Grenadiers. Sharing the name, they share and perpetuate the memory of
the song, which in the first place referred to the Grenadiers who threw
the grenades "from the glacis." But, as a good old British song may
gain in volume as it rolls down the years, there is no reason why the
well-known air in question should not attach to the Grenadier Guards.
Well does the historian say that "their annals indeed may almost be
said to be identical with those of the British Army, as in every
campaign of importance--every campaign which has had a material bearing
on the fortunes of the Commonwealth--their services have been called
into requisition. They have shared in our greatest battles. Their
serried ranks stood firm at Fontenoy; turned the tide of battle at
Quatre Bras; withstood unshaken the assaults of Napoleon's brilliant
chivalry at Waterloo, and ascended with stately movement the bristling
heights of the Alma."
Mr. J. J. Hart, who was with the Grenadiers in the Boer War, gives a
graphic description of the battle near Senekal:
"With the advent of quick-firing guns," says he, "the ancient
magnificence of armies in battle array has disappeared for ever....
There is no shining armour; there are no waving plumes; and the
blare of the trumpet is unheard. Watch those grey-clad figures as
they silently scatter over the plain. They are the colour of the
withered grass of the veldt. No two will walk together lest they
should be a more conspicuous mark for those deadly guns. See them
as they walk with bent heads. You might compare them to poachers or
partridge-shooters travelling over a moor, only their advance is
more cautious....
"It was noon, and my battalion had halted on the plain. Far away
for miles on our right the battle was raging, and, we with our
grand fighting history, were left to act the inglorious part of
lying on the grass waiting to cut off a possible retreat of the
enemy. (Col.) Bunker stamped and swore and chewed his moustache....
Confusion to the General who crushed the flower of the British
infantry so; but it was orders, and soldiers must obey. The Boers,
however, were more generous to us than the General, and, in the
working out of a little plan of their own, they were destined to
cover us with wounds if not with glory. While we were lying musing
on our fate, and thinking if the news of our being left out of the
action should ever reach London, what we might expect at the hands
of our enemies the cabdrivers, a force of Boers, of whose presence
on a hill about half a mile in front we were blissfully ignorant,
were preparing to open fire on us. They began proceedings by
killing Bunker's horse with a percussion shell, which dropped right
under him, and blew the animal to bits. Our artillery soon limbered
up and replied to the shot, keeping up a continuous fire for about
an hour, when, as they were unable to silence the gun, we advanced
to take it by assault. We moved towards the hill in short rushes,
lying down every fifty yards to fire a volley. The Boer shells
which exploded between our extended line did little damage, and it
looked as if we were going to make an easy capture of the gun. If
there were any rifles on the hill they were certainly very careful
about reserving their fire. We had got within 500 yards of the base
of the hill, and had risen to make another rush when the rattling
noise of a thousand rifle bolts together came to our ears. The
whole of the front rank went down at the first volley; evidently
the marksmen on the hill had taken very careful aim; then there
followed a veritable hailstorm of lead, in the face of which no man
could advance and live. We remained lying down and firing in the
same position for about five hours.
"The shadows of night were falling, and still the firing was kept
up without intermission; when a new danger was observed to threaten
us. A shell had ignited the long grass in our rear and a light
breeze which was blowing soon turned the spark into a
conflagration. The Boers, observing this, extended their flanks on
our right and left, thus completely cutting off our retreat. Then
followed a scene of tumult which is hard to describe. Wounded men
who were unable to move ... gazed with wild staring eyes at the
flames, which, slowly but surely, crept towards them. Our left wing
made one desperate rush to charge the Boers, but had to fall before
the leaden hail. When the flames drew near many of our men made
heroic efforts to remove our wounded through the blinding smoke and
flame.... Others pulled their helmets over their faces and rushed
through the fire. In all this confusion I noticed one man who
showed rare presence of mind. He was badly wounded, and, being
unable to get out of reach of the flames, he took some matches from
his pocket and burnt the grass near him. He then crawled on to the
black ground, and thus secured for himself a comparatively safe
position when the fire approached him. The flames were now upon us,
and fighting had ceased. Two men picked me up where I lay wounded,
and, rushing with me through the flames, threw me down on the other
side, and ran.... The fire burned itself out at the foot of the
hill, and then all was darkness till the moon, shining out, showed
us the blackened bodies of the dead, and men writhing in pain on
the burned earth.
"Now the Boers came amongst us, and, passing from one wounded man
to another, gave us water from their bottles. Then we heard a
crackling of whips and a rumbling of wheels. The Boers left us, and
we knew the ambulance wagons were coming."
* * * * *
THEIR COLOURS, BATTLE HONOURS, ETC.
THE KING'S COLOURS.--1st Battn., Gules (crimson): in the centre the
Imperial Crown; in base a grenade fired proper. 2nd Battn., Gules
(crimson): in the centre the Royal Cypher reversed and interlaced
or, ensigned with the Imperial Crown; in base a grenade fired
proper, in the dexter canton the Union. 3rd Battn.: as for 2nd
Battn., and for distinction, issuing from the Union in bend dexter,
a pile wavy or.
REGIMENTAL COLOURS.--The Union: in the centre a company badge
ensigned with the Imperial Crown; in base a grenade fired proper.
The thirty company badges are borne in rotation, three at a time,
one on the regimental colour of each of the Battns.
BATTLE HONOURS.--Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde, Malplaquet,
Dettingen, Lincelles, Corunna, Barrosa, Peninsula, Waterloo, Alma,
Inkerman, Sevastopol, Egypt 1882, Tel-el-Kebir, Suakin 1885,
Khartoum, S. Africa 1899-1902, Modder River.
UNIFORM.--Scarlet, blue facings.
THE COLDSTREAM GUARDS
("THE NULLI SECONDUS CLUB")
"Sire! this regiment refuses to be known as second to any in the
British Army."--_Monk_ (_to Charles II._)
History tells again how, in 1661, Charles, distrusting the soldiers in
his service, called the 1st Foot Guards back to England. Following upon
this, he speedily dismissed his Commonwealth soldiers, and, of all the
Puritan regiments, he retained but one--the Coldstream Guards. This was
the regiment which Monk had marched from Coldstream to the King's aid;
hence their retention. An interesting story is related about them. It
is said that when they were ordered to lay down their arms in
repudiation of the Commonwealth, and commanded to resume them again, as
the 2nd Foot Guards, they stood obstinately defiant, on the verge of
mutiny. King Charles was dumbfounded, but Monk was equal to the
situation. "Sire," he said, "this regiment refuses to be known as
second to any in the British Army." On this, Charles, who was quick to
the occasion with unworded gratitude for their timely help in a
critical situation, cried: "Coldstream Guards, take up your arms!" and
from that time forward they have been the Coldstream Guards.
Who can ever forget the glorious achievement of the Coldstream Guards
at St. Amand in 1793? As soon as the Brigade of Guards gained contact
with our then Allies-the Prussians and the Austrians--General
Knobelsdorf, of the Prussian Army, welcomed them with, "I have reserved
for the Coldstream Guards the honour, the especial glory, of dislodging
the French from their entrenchments. As British troops you have only to
show yourselves, and the enemy will retire."
The Coldstreamers rather wondered at his flowery flattery. They did
not know, and he omitted to tell them, that the honour he had
reserved for them was one which had been offered three times to
5,000 Austrians and three times missed by them, with a loss of 1,700
men. The Coldstreamers, therefore, prepared for the battle in complete
ignorance of the fact that they were expected to do, with 600 rank and
file, what 5,000 Austrians had failed to accomplish in three attempts.
Not that it would have made much difference, for the British soldier
can always count on doing the impossible about fifty times in a
century.
The Coldstreamers, ready and eager, moved to the attack, and the
Prussian General moved with them as far as safety would permit; then,
desirous apparently that they should achieve this "especial glory"
without any interference from him, he waved them on with his sword and
magnanimously galloped away.
Hell opened then on the Coldstream Guards. The wood before them spurted
flame. Batteries from right and left lumbered up, and, under cover of
the undergrowth, tore lanes through them at close range. Never, up to
that time, in the history of battles, had there been such quick and
fearful slaughter of our troops. In a few minutes two of the companies
were reduced by one-half. Ensign Howard went down with the colours, and
on every hand rank and file were blown to pieces. Sergeant-Major
Darling, one of the many heroes of that awful fight, had one arm
shattered by a cannon ball, but he fought on with the other with such
tenacity that his deeds were afterwards described as "prodigies of
valour." A French officer, seeing so many men go down before him,
pressed forward and engaged him in a fierce combat. But Darling laid
him low and continued his terrible work until another ball carried away
one of his legs. Thus, bereft of a leg and an arm, he was taken
prisoner. General Knobelsdorf, the Prussian, lived through that day,
but many, too many, of the Coldstreamers went to their last account,
fighting gloriously. You may, under some conditions, beat a
Coldstreamer, but you will never, never convince him that you have done
so.
At Inkerman the Coldstream Guards, a few hundred strong, actually stood
up to 4,000 Russians for a time, during which there was the bloodiest
struggle ever witnessed. The fight was round the Sandbag Battery, where
700 British had held their own until reinforced by the Guards, and it
was of such a nature that each guard must needs be a small battalion on
his own account to do any good at all. Back to back the Coldstreamers
fought till their ammunition was exhausted. Then they took their
muskets and clubbed the pressing hosts in such fashion that they made
space enough to form into line. Thus, with levelled steel, they
charged. The enemy was thrown into utter confusion by their terrific
onslaught, and, taking advantage of this, the Coldstreamers regained
their own lines, having inflicted tremendous loss.
And the Russian in Germany to-day knows all about it. He has not
forgotten the Coldstreamer of former days, any more than the
Coldstreamer has forgotten the glorious deeds of the Russian; and, no
doubt, if they could sit by the same camp-fire, many such a battle
story would be told, through the interpreter, of those good old days
"when we flew at each other's throats."
* * * * *
THEIR COLOURS.
THE KING'S COLOURS.--1st Battn., Gules (crimson): in the centre the
Star of the Order of the Garter proper, ensigned with the Imperial
Crown; in base the Sphinx superscribed Egypt. 2nd Battn., Gules
(crimson): in the centre a star of eight points argent within the
garter, ensigned with the Imperial Crown; in base the Sphinx
superscribed Egypt, in the "dexter" canton the Union. 3rd Battn.,
as for the 1st Battn., and for difference in the dexter canton, the
Union and issuing therefrom in bend dexter a pile wavy or.
THE ROYAL SCOTS
("PONTIUS PILATE'S BODY GUARD")
"A volley, my lads, and then the steel!"--_Their Captain at
Wepener._
The Royal Scots (1st Foot, or Lothian Regiment) are old in story.
Several hundreds of years before the battle of Blenheim, which is among
the first of their honours, the Royal Scots had traced their earlier
glories on the roll of fame. Few European battlefields could disclaim
acquaintance with them, and there are few on which they have not been
responsible for terrific slaughter, and a large share in the crux of
victory. Their ancestors far back fought under Gustavus Adolphus: their
lineal descendents fight now under King George; and the bridge between
that time and this has been held by them heroically.
It is interesting to trace their battles from the first. Long, long
ago, fighting for Sweden, they captured and defended Rugenwald in
Pomerania. Being wrecked on a hostile coast, with Adolphus eighty miles
away, these Scots were led by Munro, with what might seem to us an
absurd hope of victory. All day they waited in the caves by the sea
shore, starving, wet, and cold--waited for the night, so that, under
the cover of darkness, they might bring their desperate plan to
fruition. Darkness fell; the moon rose, and these hungry Scots went
forth to the attack. In one stroke they captured Rugenwald, and held it
against repeated attempts on the part of the enemy to retake it. For
nine weeks they gripped this place, and held on tooth and nail till
Hepburn's men, fighting mile after mile to their relief, came up.
Hepburn's men! They were Scots, every one of them. Men who, led by
Hepburn himself, captured Frankfort on the Oder. He took them to the
attack waist deep through the mud and water of the moat. At the great
battle of Leipzig, "the battle of the Nations," Gustavus held these men
in reserve. Then, when the issue was in danger, he flung them forward.
The musketry fire galled them severely, but through it all the pikemen
went cheering on, and put the enemy to an inglorious rout.
Later, in 1632, Hepburn, who was somewhat a soldier of fortune, found
himself on his way to aid the King of France. In 1634 he led his
regiments against the Austrians and Spaniards. Here he was joined by
Scots from France, and Scots from Sweden. Other Scots came up from the
four quarters of the compass, as if by a gathering of the clans, and
three years later there were 8,000 of them serving under the King of
France. Those 8,000 are the martial sires of the present Royal Scots.
As to the heroic achievements of the Royal Scots, we may instance the
battle of Wynendale. General Webb (Thackeray's favourite General of
"Colonel Esmond") won that battle with an army of 8,000 men against
22,000 Frenchmen. It was his work to take supplies from Ostend to
Marlborough's army in the field. Near the wood of Wynendale he detected
the preponderating force of the enemy intent on intercepting his
mission, but, in order to do this, they must traverse the wood. The
odds were nearly three to one against Webb, but, relying on his men as
much as on his own generalship, he decided to put up a fight of fights.
The way of the enemy's approach was a great glade through the wood, and
to right and left of this he placed detachments of his troops while he
stationed the main body of his army at the point where they must
debouch. Then he waited. That long wait for the oncoming host has been
much described: how for a time they gazed up the long avenue through
which the foe must come; how every man felt that tense expectancy,
which lends to the simple sounds of nature a meaning of their own, and
how 8,000 staunch hearts went back to the old folks at home with
tenderness, and possible regret, before the descent of an avalanche
which threatened to bereave their hearths.
But at length the enemy teemed in at the further end of the glade. On
they came, warily scanning the wood, but it was not till the Royal
Scots poured a volley into them that the enemy actually realized what
was happening. When the smoke cleared away, confusion reigned in their
ranks; they rallied, and came on with greater determination, but again
they were hurled into disorder and death by the British fire. Yet a
third time they attempted it, and with all the bravery of the French,
but a third time they met with that penetrating fire that none but the
British, with their ugly bulldog pertinacity, can stand. They failed to
forge their way through the storm of lead, and at last retired in
confusion, leaving one third their number of British as victors of the
field.
The Royal Scots have more than once been helped out of a difficulty by
other regiments. For instance, at Schellenberg in 1714, the ultimate
victory, after three daring attempts on the part of the Royal Scots,
who fought their way up against a heavy fire from the heights above,
was made sure by the Scots Greys, who dismounted and rushed to their
assistance. This engagement cost the French a valuable position, and 16
guns.