THE HIGHLAND BRIGADE AT THE BATTLE OF ALMA
(_September 20, 1854_)
“Leave me, comrades—here I drop;
No, Sir, take them on;
All are wanted—none shall stop;
Duty must be done:
Those whose guard you take will find me,
As they pass below.”
So the soldier spake, and staggering
Fell amid the snow,
And ever, on the dreary heights,
Down came the snow.
HENRY LUSHINGTON.
The years following Waterloo were free from war, but full of domestic
unrest. The National Debt had risen from under 240 millions to over 860
millions, while the end of hostilities brought with it a fall in corn, a
renewal of foreign competition in trade, and a tremendous increase in
unemployment. Riots and plots abounded; the introduction and development
of machinery was blamed for throwing people out of work. There was even,
in the Cato Street Conspiracy in 1820, a futile idea of murdering the
Cabinet.
In 1832 the famous Reform Bill was passed, resisted to the last by
Wellington and the Tories, while the Abolition of Slavery followed soon
after. In 1837 Queen Victoria came to the throne.
In 1854 the Crimean War broke out, after a peace in Europe lasting
practically forty years.
The trouble in the Crimea was entirely political. England feared that
Russia would crush Turkey and plant herself upon the shores of the
Eastern Mediterranean. France was also alarmed and, to prevent the Czar
overwhelming the Sultan, united her forces with the British. For two
years they fought together as allies. In former chapters we have
followed in the footsteps of Wolfe, of Moore, of Abercromby, and of
Wellington, and now we meet, though not for the first time, a great
Scots soldier in Sir Colin Campbell. He linked the Peninsular Campaign
of 1809 with the Indian Mutiny of 1857, handing on the sword to Roberts,
who in his turn was to be succeeded by Sir John French. Of Roberts and
Wolseley and Lord Kitchener we will hear a great deal soon enough. It is
of Colin Campbell, of Balaclava and Lucknow, that the next few years are
full.
Colin Campbell was born in Glasgow on the 20th of October 1792. He was
not sixteen when he joined the army as an ensign, and sailed at once for
Portugal, receiving his baptism of fire at Vimiera. He served under Sir
John Moore, taking part in the historic retreat to Corunna. Later on he
was in the miserable Walcheren Expedition, and contracted a fever which
visited him every season for thirty years afterwards. He was at the
battles of Barossa and Vittoria, and in July 1813 served at the siege of
San Sebastian. There he was severely wounded and was compelled to return
to England, but on his recovery he sailed for Nova Scotia to join his
regiment. He won experience in America, Gibraltar, and the West Indies;
took part in the battles of Brandenburg and New Orleans, and fought in
the Chinese War. Just as Lord Roberts was enjoying well-earned repose in
1899, Campbell contemplated retirement when his most important and
historic work lay ahead. “I am growing old and only fit for retirement,”
he wrote when the Crimean War and the Indian Mutiny still lay buried in
the future. He was sixty-two years of age when, in 1854, he was
appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Highland Brigade, and found himself
in the proud position of leading the Black Watch, the Camerons, and the
Sutherland Highlanders.
After a trying voyage, in which the troops suffered severely from
sickness, the Black Sea was reached on the 19th of September 1854. The
landing was accomplished in safety, and it was learned that the Russians
were holding a very strong position on the left bank of the Alma, a
shallow river confronting them a few miles distant. The Russian forces
were well posted, strong in artillery, and numbering some 40,000 men and
106 guns. The attack was launched without delay. The French advanced on
the right, and the British on the left. In this manner the West drew
near to the East, and everything hung upon the success of the assault.
Had the attacking columns suffered a reverse it would have been
exceedingly difficult to save a retreat from degenerating into a rout.
The Russians fully expected to drive their enemies into the sea.
Before the action Sir Colin Campbell rode up and joined the ranks of his
Brigade, giving his men some words of advice before the advance
commenced, begging them to keep their heads, and remember the land of
their forebears.
Facing the British troops was a high entrenched slope upon which the
Russians awaited their attack. “Now, men,” said Sir Colin, “the army
will watch us; make me proud of the Highland Brigade.”
The soldiers were confident of success. “When,” records Kinglake, “the
command travelled on along the ranks of the Highlanders it lit up the
faces of the men one after another, assuring them that now at length,
and after long expectance, they would indeed go into action. They began
obeying the order, and with beaming joy, for they came of a warlike
race; yet not without emotions of a graver kind; they were young
soldiers, new to battle.”
Upon the right of the Highland Brigade were the Guards, while between
the Coldstreams and the Black Watch rode Sir Colin Campbell. While they
stood there the muffled thunder of guns on their right told every man
that the engagement had already started, and that far away their French
allies were already in action upon the Russian front. To the left of Sir
Colin Campbell was a gorge where the enemy had constructed a large
redoubt, flanked on each side by artillery upon the heights, while in
support of the artillery were large numbers of troops. This redoubt was
defended by fourteen heavy guns. The advance began under a merciless
fire, but so fierce was the attack that the enemy were compelled to
retreat until their reserves were called up, when they outnumbered the
British by twenty to one. It was at this critical moment, when a reverse
seemed inevitable, and the light troops engaged were recoiling, that Sir
Colin Campbell shouted, “Forward, the 42nd!”—the bagpipes struck up, and
the advance of the Highland Brigade commenced. Against his three
battalions in echelon were twelve regiments of Russians in mass. But
without a halt, without a pause, the 42nd forded the River Alma and
faced the heights, advancing steadily and without faltering, the
Sutherlands in the centre and the Camerons upon the left flank. For a
few moments Sir Colin Campbell halted the Brigade to let them recover
their breath, and then giving the order, “Advance firing”—a manœuvre in
which the Black Watch were greatly expert—they drew nearer to the
closely packed forces of the enemy. It was inevitable that they should
lose very heavily, and that the fire that was opened upon them should be
exceedingly hot, but always into the dense clouds of smoke that floated
between the intervening distance the 42nd advanced. The time was nearly
ripe.
“Charge!” cried Sir Colin, and down went the steel line of bayonets. But
instead of a clear front a new situation arose which called upon all the
strategic skill of the Scottish leader to avert disaster. The solitary
regiment of the 42nd was not only faced by the hosts of Russians on
their front; other battalions of the enemy were on the move preparing to
attack upon the flank. Instantly he turned to the Sutherlands, ordering
them to protect the flank of the Black Watch. In perfect order, amid the
thunder of the conflict, the two Highland regiments charged straight at
the enemy. It is difficult to believe that the Russians should have
retired before two battalions with only one other in support, but they
did. Whether it was the appearance of the Highlanders, or the invincible
character of their advance, one cannot say, but after a momentary
wavering the enemy gave way to panic. And then upon the other flank of
the Brigade the Russians threatened a similar movement.
Again Campbell saved the situation and this time by calling up the
Camerons. Kinglake has given a vivid impression of the effect of this
new force of kilted troops appearing out of the smoke. “Some
witchcraft,” he says, “the doomed men might fancy, was causing the earth
to bear giants. Above the crest or swell of the ground on the left rear
of the 93rd yet another array of the tall bending plumes began to rise
in a long ceaseless line, stretching far into the east; and presently,
in all the grace and beauty that marks a Highland regiment when it
springs up the side of a hill, the 79th came bounding forward without a
halt, or with only the halt that was needed for dressing the ranks, it
advanced upon the flank of the right Sousdal column and caught the mass
in its sin—caught it daring to march across the face of a Highland
battalion—a battalion already near and swiftly advancing in line.
Wrapped in the fire thus poured upon its flank the hapless column could
not march—could not live.”
The Russian force was indeed in a position that was not tolerable, and
its rout was complete and immediate. And now the three Highland
regiments, with Sir Colin in the centre, extending in open order for
nearly a mile, swept forward in perfect formation against the confused
masses of the Russian army, to whom they presented a never-ceasing wave
of soldiers, with (to their imagination) unending supports that would
spring up just as readily as on the two occasions that they had
attempted an outflanking movement. To the horror of their troops in
reserve, who could well see how great was the difference numerically
between their comrades and the British, the Russians took to their
heels, overwhelming their own supports and carrying everything before
them in their blind panic. The Highland Brigade had turned the scales,
and the time was ripe to convert defeat into disaster. The cavalry were
advanced to harass the broken Russian columns; the artillery commenced
to shell their shattered ranks.
But, as Sir Colin wrote to a friend, “it was a fight of the Highland
Brigade. Lord Raglan came up afterwards, and sent for me. When I
approached him I observed his eyes to fill and his lips and countenance
to quiver. He gave me a cordial shake of the hand. The men cheered very
much. I told them I was going to ask the Commander-in-Chief a great
favour—that he would permit me to have the honour of wearing the
Highland bonnet during the rest of the campaign, which pleased them very
much. My men behaved nobly. I never saw troops march to battle with
greater _sang-froid_ and order than those three Highland regiments.”
Not long after, when Sir Colin Campbell was returning, he addressed the
regiments of the Highland Brigade, never thinking how soon he would be
called upon to lead them again. “Our native land,” he said, “will never
forget the name of the Highland Brigade, and in some future war that
nation will call for another one to equal this, which it will never
surpass.”
It was indeed a victory to be proud of. Three regiments had put to rout
no fewer than twelve battalions, including the famous division of picked
Czar’s Infantry.
The Russians retreated before the Highland advance across the Belbec
River, falling back towards Sevastopol, a strongly fortified place upon
the shore of the Black Sea. It is probable that had the pursuit been
carried out energetically, as Lord Raglan advised, the Russians would
have been utterly dispersed, and the war concluded, but the delay
enabled them to enter Sevastopol at their leisure, and in consequence of
this movement the Allies decided to march across the Peninsula to
Balaclava, and by forcing the action from that point to invest the
Russian forces in Sevastopol by land and sea.