Laid it, unsullied, in the lap of Peace.”

INDIA—SERINGAPATAM—ASSAYE—1787–1806.

The proximity of two such formidable rivals as France and Britain, notwithstanding the friendly intervention of the Channel, has occasioned on both sides thereof an almost perpetual series of alarms, jealousies, and feuds, too often resulting in wars of the most stupendous magnitude, generally involving in their toils the other kingdoms of Europe. It is of one such crisis we write, when France, politically meddling with the affairs of Holland, excited the suspicions of our Government, and occasioned the combined interference of Britain and Prussia, to preserve, no doubt, the “balance of power.” Contemplating an appeal to arms, each prepared for the expected struggle. France and Holland possessing a large colonial empire in India, and both having a rival and antagonistic interest in the politics of that country to the new-born power of Britain, each marked that far-off land as an important theatre of strife. Hence, our legislature determined to strengthen our forces in that quarter of the British world by the addition of four new regiments, ordered to be raised in 1787. Two of these, the Seventy-fourth and Seventy-fifth,^[D] were raised amongst the Highlanders of Scotland; and the others, the Seventy-sixth and Seventy-seventh, in England, or generally throughout the kingdom. No sooner were these completed—nay, in the case of the Seventy-fourth, before being completed—than they were shipped off for immediate service in India; whilst the question of their maintenance was installed in Parliament as a subject of bitter wrangling between the home Government and the East India Company, affording a theme for the genius of Pitt to work upon, and in the end to triumph, in the passing of the “Declaratory Bill,” which saddled the East India Company with the expense. This Bill was afterwards confirmed by Acts passed in 1791, and again in 1793.

Of these regiments, thus raised, the Seventy-fourth claims our present attention. It was assembled at Glasgow under command of Major-General Sir Archibald Campbell, K.B., and was largely composed of Argyleshire Highlanders—the Campbells and their kin. To meet the urgent demand for reinforcements, every soldier as yet available for duty was at once forwarded to India, followed by a second instalment of six companies, which completed the regiment, in 1789. Landed at Madras with an effective strength of 750 men, the Seventy-fourth, brigaded with the Seventy-first and Seventy-second Highlanders, joined the army of Major-General Medows in 1790. The Earl Cornwallis assuming the command, advanced upon Bangalore, which was taken by storm; thereafter the regiment was with the Highland Brigade in the fruitless expedition against Seringapatam. Detached during the winter for service in the Baramhal district, the Seventy-fourth was very conspicuous for its spirited but ineffectual attempt to storm Penagra, an almost impregnable hill fort, which was only saved by the natural obstacles that defended it, and defied the most desperate efforts of our Highlanders to surmount. In 1792 the siege of Seringapatam was once more undertaken, and considerable progress had been achieved, when the intervention of peace disappointed our army of the anticipated prize.

Brigaded with the Seventy-second and Seventy-third Highland regiments, the Seventy-fourth was engaged in the operations which brought about the surrender of the French settlement of Pondicherry. The garrison, in consequence, became prisoners of war, but the officers released on parole were hospitably entertained by the captors. Amid these hospitalities, an incident occurred which displays in bold relief the generous gallantry of the officers of the Seventy-fourth. With the French officers they were present in the theatre, when the former, in love with the new-born ideas of republicanism, in course of the evening vehemently called for the revolutionary air “Ca Ira.” This was objected to by the British; and from the uproar of words, a serious disturbance arose to break in upon the harmony, and bewilder and terrify the orchestra. Happily, the senior officer of the Seventy-fourth, stepping upon the stage, obtained silence, and addressing the audience in a firm but conciliatory manner, stated that the British officers had agreed not to insist upon their objections, but were prepared to sacrifice their feelings on the subject, seeing such might gratify their French friends and the ladies who had seconded the request. No sooner had the air been played, amid the acclamations of the French, than the same officer asked the audience to uncover to the National Anthem—“God save the King.” Rebuked by this generous forbearance, and heartily ashamed of their rudeness in so insisting upon their own gratification, the French felt themselves outdone in gallantry, and only too glad of an opportunity to repair the discord they had bred, granted a ready consent; and the Royal Anthem was only the more vociferously welcomed that it had been forestalled by the revolutionary ditty “Ca Ira.” Ever afterwards the utmost cordiality subsisted between the representatives of the two nations.

In 1798, when the war with France required a great financial effort adequately to sustain it on our part, and when the patriotism of the public liberally and voluntarily contributed to the national funds for the purpose, the men of the Seventy-fourth voted eight days’ pay; the non-commissioned officers a half-month’s pay; and the commissioned officers a full month’s pay, towards the vigorous prosecution of the war—“a war unprovoked on our part, and justified by the noblest of motives: the preservation of our invaluable constitution.”

In 1799, with the army of Lieutenant-General Harris, the Seventy-fourth advanced against Seringapatam, which ultimately fell a conquest to our arms. The distinguished service of the regiment on this occasion is recorded in the word “Seringapatam” borne upon its colours. Subsequently it was engaged against the Polygars; and in 1801 was removed to Bombay to replace the troops drawn from that Presidency for service in Egypt. Under Major-General the Hon. Arthur Wellesley, in the invasion of the Mahratta states, the regiment was most conspicuous for its fortitude in enduring many severe privations, and refusing withal to petition or complain when grievances remained unredressed. The capture of the strong fortress of Ahmednuggur, was but the prelude to the exceeding glory so soon destined to grace the records of the Seventy-fourth in the victory of Assaye.

On the 23d September, 1803, the British army, not exceeding 5000 men, of which the Nineteenth Dragoons and the Seventy-fourth and Seventy-eighth Highlanders were the only King’s regiments, came up with the combined hosts of Scindiah and the Rajah of Berar, amounting together to 40,000 well-disciplined and excellent troops. Undaunted by this formidable superiority, Major-General the Hon. Arthur Wellesley at once ordered the attack, which undertaken with spirit and upheld with heroic gallantry, soon overcame the resolution and desperate defence of the enemy. The Seventy-fourth, posted on the right of the second line, prematurely advancing against the village of Assaye, became exposed to a terrific tempest of shot and shell; and, moreover, charged by a powerful body of horse when somewhat confused by the fatal effects of the artillery, was almost annihilated. True to its duty, and borne forward by an unconquerable perseverance, the Seventy-fourth struggled on, carried and maintained the post, although at a fearful sacrifice of human life, upwards of 400 men and officers being hors-de-combat. Of its officers, the only one escaping scatheless was Quarter-Master James Grant, who seeing so many of his comrades fall, although by office a non-combatant, resolved to share with his brethren the dangers and the glory of the fight, and, accordingly, joining in the terrible mÉlÉe of the battle, resolutely fought till its close, miraculously surviving the disasters of so severe and fatal a strife. The Major-General thus writes: “Our loss is great, but the action, I believe, was the most severe that ever was fought in this country, and, I believe, such a quantity of cannon and such advantages have seldom been gained, by any single victory, in any part of the world.”

On this occasion the valour of the regiment was rewarded by the exceptional permission to carry a third colour, bearing thereon the “Elephant” and “Assaye,” specially commemorative of the unparalleled glory of the day. The inconvenience of a third colour has since brought about its disallowance as other than an honorary distinction to be borne only when on peaceful parade.

The severe losses of the regiment at the battle of Assaye required it should be released from active duty for a time, to allow these losses to be repaired, and the wounded to recover and resume their posts. However, in November of the same year we find it in the field with the army on the plains of Argaum, burning to avenge, by a new victory, the death of friends sacrificed at Assaye. Major-General Wellesley, in his official despatch, particularly commends the perseverance, steadiness, and bravery of the Seventy-fourth and Seventy-eighth Highlanders as materially helping to the triumph of Argaum. A variety of minor actions closed the campaign, crowned by the submission of the enemy.

Thereafter selected by the Commander-in-Chief, the regiment was detached with other troops, under his own command, which marching sixty miles in twenty hours, destroyed a camp of freebooters, which, quartered at Perinda, had been the pest and terror of the neighbourhood.

In 1804, the regiment was stationed with the Seventy-eighth and some native troops for protective purposes in the territory of the Peishwah, until the war with Holkar anew occasioned it to undertake more active service. In the capture of Gaulnah, the Seventy-fourth was called upon to supply volunteers for the forlorn hope. Such was the spirit of the corps, that the whole regiment spontaneously offered itself.

After sixteen years’ service in India, during which it was almost always engaged with an enemy—earning therefrom the name it afterwards gloriously upheld as the “fighting regiment”—the gallant remnant was ordered to return home, and, in consequence, embarking at Madras in September, 1805, landed at Portsmouth in February, 1806.

As soon as the Seventy-fourth had returned, the business of recruiting occupied the earnest attention of its officers. Removed to Scotland for this purpose, it failed to complete its establishment, and, in consequence, was transferred to Ireland to receive its complement by volunteers from the militia. In 1810 it received orders to prepare for foreign service; and, accordingly, embarked from Cork for Portugal, under Lieut.-Colonel the Honourable Robert De Poer Trench, with a total strength of 730 effectives. Arrived in the Tagus and disembarked, it was advanced to Viseu. Its junction with the allied army of Lord Wellington was hailed with delight by that chief, who ever felt a warm interest in its history, as the “Assaye regiment” whose heroes had won for him his first great victory. Complimenting Colonel Trench, he said: “If the Seventy-fourth would behave in that country as they had done in India, he ought to be proud to command such a regiment.” Included in the third or well-known “Fighting Division” of Major-General Picton, the Seventy-fourth was brigaded with the first battalion of the Forty-fifth, the Eighty-eighth, and three companies of the fifth battalion of the Sixtieth Regiment. From the concentrated and overwhelming military might of Napoleon, Marshal Massena was detached at the head of 75,000 veterans, styled the “Army of Portugal,” charged with the destruction of the British who had dared to dispute the claims of his master to the dominion of the Peninsula. In presence of such a superior foe, as regards numbers, Wellington resolved on retreat; and, accordingly, withdrawing to his own defences, induced the enemy to draw off in pursuit. Taking advantage of every position which by natural or artificial strength afforded an opportunity to check or impede the pursuit of the French, Lord Wellington frequently severely punished the temerity of the foe. Thus, in the battle of Busaco, where the Seventy-fourth for awhile withstood the attack of an entire French column, until sustained by the Ninth and Thirty-eighth regiments, it drove the enemy down the hill.

Finally arrested by the formidable lines of Torres Vedras, the French, vainly endeavouring to blockade the position, fatally suffered from disease and want, whilst our troops enjoyed every comfort in abundance and in safety within the entrenchments. Convinced of the futility of any attempt to surmount the defences of the position, Marshal Massena was constrained in turn to retreat, closely pursued along the banks of the Mondego by the British. With the third division, in the van of the army, the Seventy-fourth was almost incessantly engaged driving the enemy from post to post. For the relief of Almeida, Marshal Massena, considerably reinforced, once more ventured to advance. Encountering the light companies of the first, third, and fifth divisions, and the second battalion of the Eighty-third Regiment, in occupation of the village of Fuentes d’Onor, the French laboured to expel them. Reinforced by the Twenty-fourth, Seventy-first, and Seventy-ninth regiments, and ultimately supported by the Forty-fifth, Seventy-fourth, and Eighty-eighth regiments, the whole of the enemy’s sixth corps was routed and driven from the village it had at first won. Interrupted in the siege of Badajoz by the approach of the combined armies of Marmont and Soult, the British temporarily retired. A similar diversion by the army of Marshal Marmont in favour of Ciudad Rodrigo, in like manner disturbed its blockade. Whilst quartered in this vicinity, the third division of our army, threatened by an attack from a very powerful corps of French, which, taking advantage of the immediate presence of Marshal Marmont, had undertaken a sortie from the fortress, retreated. Under command of General Montbrun, the enemy so severely pressed the British division, that, in retiring, the Seventy-fourth became separated from the rest, and was generally believed to have been captured. A long detour, under the friendly shield of night, enabled the regiment to escape the danger and rejoin the division in its camp at Guinaldo. Overjoyed in their safe return, Major-General Picton uttered these memorable words, expressive of his faith in the valour of our Highlanders, saying, “he thought he must have heard more firing before the Seventy-fourth could be taken.”

On the retirement of the French, returning to the duties of the siege, the regiment, on the 19th of January, was included in the storming party which, despite the most strenuous resistance of the foe, won Ciudad Rodrigo. This achievement was immediately followed by the re-investment of Badajoz; a fortress esteemed impregnable, the more so as it was defended by some of the choicest troops of France. The progress had been so satisfactory, and the breaches in the ramparts deemed so far practicable, that by the 6th April, 1812, the assault was ordered, and the Herculean duty of storming the defences of the castle committed to the third division; accomplished, nevertheless, after “a combat so furiously fought, so terribly won, so dreadful in all its circumstances, that posterity can scarcely be expected to credit the tale.” Lieutenant Alexander Grant of the Seventy-fourth, leading the advance, entered the castle, but fell in the moment of victory. “Foremost in the escalade was John M?Lauchlan, the regimental piper, who, the instant he mounted the castle wall, began playing on his pipes the regimental quick step, ‘The Campbells are coming,’ at the head of the advance along the ramparts, as coolly as if on a common parade, until his music was stopped by a shot through the bag; he was afterwards seen by an officer of the regiment seated on a gun-carriage, quietly repairing the damage, regardless of the shot flying about him, and presently recommenced his animating tune.” Although the other assaults were not so successful, still the triumph of the third and fifth divisions at their several points of attack so turned the defences of the place, that resistance appearing hopeless, the fortress was surrendered.

Various manoeuvres at length brought about the battle of Salamanca, where the French, under Marshal Marmont, were totally defeated, driven “as it were before a mighty wind without help or stay.” The brunt of the action was sustained by the French division of General ThomiÈres, originally 7000 strong, but which, notwithstanding the most splendid illustration of heroism, was utterly cut to pieces or dispersed. In this great battle the third division figured conspicuously. Lord Londonderry writes: “The attack of the third division was not only the most spirited, but the most perfect thing of the kind that modern times have witnessed. Regardless alike of a charge of cavalry and of the murderous fire which the enemy’s batteries opened, on went these fearless warriors, horse and foot, without check or pause, until they won the ridge, and then the infantry giving their volley, and the cavalry falling on sword in hand, the French were pierced, broken, and discomfited. So close, indeed, was the struggle, that in several instances the British colours were seen waving over the heads of the enemy’s battalions;” whilst the advance in unbroken line of the Seventy-fourth, for upwards of three miles, testified to its efficiency, and drew forth the plaudits of Major-General Pakenham, then commanding the division, who vehemently exclaimed, “Beautifully done, Seventy-fourth! beautiful, Seventy-fourth!”

The glorious results immediately flowing from this great victory, were crowned in the capitulation and occupation of Madrid. Whilst stationed in the capital, the gaieties of which agreeably relieved the hardships of the camp, our officers at the same time beheld the splendid misery the tyrant-extortionating rule of France had entailed upon the citizens, many of whom, once great and opulent, now reduced to abject beggary, gratefully accepted the assistance of their deliverers. In these deeds of charity the officers of the Seventy-fourth were not wanting, but, with those of the Forty-fifth, daily fed about two hundred of the starving grandees.

Meanwhile, the converging of the various French armies of the Peninsula for the relief of Burgos, once more necessitated the retreat of the British, who, evacuating Madrid, retired towards Portugal, and finally halted, going into winter quarters, behind the Agueda. The spring of 1813 found the British army largely recruited, and with new energy prepared to resume the offensive—to begin that victorious march which stayed not until the heights of Toulouse owned the triumphs of the British flag.

At the great battle of Vittoria, which may be said to have broken the last remnant of French power in Spain, the third division was most severely engaged; and the gallantry of the Seventy-fourth was anew conspicuous in its successful attack upon the village of Arinez, whence it drove out the enemy. In the after advance, over a rugged country, in pursuit of the retiring columns of the foe, the unbroken line of the Seventy-fourth attracted general attention, and its admirable order was highly commended. In the grand attack which completed the ruin of the French, the third division, being foremost, was assailed by a fiery storm of artillery and musketry, which made fearful chasms in its ranks. At length the success of the fourth division from another quarter compelled the enemy to abandon his strong position, and soon converted the retreat into a disorderly flight. Marshal Soult was afterwards sent to command the army in the Peninsula, as “Lieutenant of the Emperor,” and never was his genius more conspicuous. His master-mind came to the rescue; he re-organised the broken remnant of the once mighty host, and, largely reinforced, once more advanced, thereby inspiring new confidence in his troops, and casting a momentary gleam of hope athwart the lowering horizon which presaged the storm steadily moving vengefully towards devoted France. The hope thus excited was speedily dissipated, and every effort failed to retrieve the disastrous consequences of Vittoria. Driven successively across the “Pyrenees,” the “Nive,” and the “Nivelle,” he found a refuge and a rest for his dispirited and wearied troops within the fortress of Bayonne. At “Orthes” and “Toulouse” Wellington required a great exercise of his own abilities as a chief to overthrow the dogged resolution of his great antagonist, who, equal to the crisis, by prodigies of skill, strove to avert the dissolution of his master’s empire. In all these closing actions of the war, the Seventy-fourth, in the “fighting” third division, more than creditably maintained its part, returning home in 1815 crowned with glory.

Ireland became thereafter the scene of its more peaceful service. Whilst stationed at Fermoy in 1818, new colours were presented to the regiment; and the shreds of the old ones—which had been so victoriously borne in the battles of the Peninsula—burnt to ashes, had their sacred dust treasured up in the lid of a gold sarcophagus snuff-box, inlaid with part of the wood of the colour-staves, and bearing the following inscription:—“This box, composed of the old standards of the Seventy-fourth regiment, was formed as a tribute of respect to the memory of those who fell, and of esteem for those who survived the many glorious and arduous services on which they were always victoriously carried, during a period of sixteen years, in India, the Peninsula, and France. They were presented to the regiment at Wallajahbad in 1802; and the shattered remains were burned at Fermoy on the 6th of April, 1818.”

Having thus disposed of this venerable memorial of its early renown, the regiment embarked at Cork for Halifax, Nova Scotia. Its service in America and Bermuda in 1825, and again in 1828, affords nothing of importance to detain the reader. Returning to Ireland in 1830, it was employed in various garrisons in that country until, ordered on foreign service, it sailed for the West Indies in 1834. Thence, in 1841, it was removed to Canada, returning to England in 1845. By desire of the officers, the Seventy-fourth was restored to its original dignity as a Highland corps, having the trews instead of the kilt; and in 1846 re-visited Scotland for a brief period, whence it proceeded to Ireland, where, associated with the Seventy-fifth and Eighty-eighth regiments, and other troops, it was encamped in the vicinity of Thurles and Ballingarry, to overawe the rebellious, and repress the foolish attempt at insurrection which, stirred by idle demagogues, had excited the people during the famine of 1848. This military demonstration proved sufficient to suppress, without blood, these ill-advised seditions.

One event remains to be recorded in our present sketch, ere we close the brief summary; one event which alone is all-sufficient to glorify the Seventy-fourth, although casting a melancholy interest over its history, yet enshrining the memory of its brave as heroic; one event which, although belonging in common to the records of the Seventy-third and Ninety-first, as well as other regiments, deserves its place here out of respect to the lost and gallant officer commanding; one event which sheds a brighter lustre, as it reveals in truer character the qualities of the British soldier, than the exciting and sanguinary achievements of the battle-field; one event which wakes the soul to truest sympathy, and bids the heart bleed at the recitation of the narrative.

One event which has bidden a gush of grief for the lost and brave from the noble-minded of every clime. Such was the wreck of the “Birkenhead.” This vessel, one of the finest in Her Majesty’s service, with a living freight of 632 souls, including 14 officers and 458 soldiers, draughts from various regiments, reinforcements from home on their way to join their comrades fighting in Kaffirland, reaching Simon’s Bay, had sailed thence for Algoa Bay on the evening of the 25th February, 1852.

Striving to quicken the voyage by shortening the passage, the commandant hugged the shore too closely off Cape Danger, and in doing so the vessel struck upon a sunken rock whilst steaming at the rate of eight miles an hour. So tremendous was the shock, that, although the night was clear and the sea calm, the stately ship was in a moment a broken wreck. The catastrophe occurred three miles from land, and six hours after starting. Yet all save the vessel might have been saved, but for the unfortunate command to back the engines, which had the effect, instead of easing the vessel, to dash her amidships upon the rocks, precipitating her fate; so that, in little more than half-an-hour, breaking in two, she went down, with 9 officers and 349 men, besides fully 80 of the crew. Whilst these so truly brave men were engulfed the prey of the insatiate sea, the weak and helpless—the women and children, were all saved, but only by such a noble sacrifice. The heart sickens as we contemplate so dreadful a scene, thus pathetically and feelingly narrated in the New York Express:—

“The steamer struck on a hidden rock, stove a plank at the bows, and went to the bottom, we believe, in half-an-hour’s time. There was a regiment of troops on board. As soon as the alarm was given, and it became apparent that the ship’s fate was sealed, the roll of the drum called the soldiers to arms on the upper deck. That call was promptly obeyed, though every gallant heart there knew that it was his death summons. There they stood as if in battle array—a motionless mass of brave men—men who were men indeed. The ship every moment was going down and down—but there were no traitors, no deserters, no cravens there! The women and children were got into the boats, and were all, or nearly all, saved. There were no boats for the troops—but there was no panic, no blanched, pale, quivering lips among them!... Men like these never perish; their bodies may be given to the fishes of the sea, but their memories are, as they ought to be—immortal!”

These, records the Spectator—“the very men whom we shrank from when we met them wearing flying ribbons in their battered hats, reeling through the streets—were the same who went down in the ‘Birkenhead’—as which of us can feel sure that he would have had nerve to do?—in their ranks, shoulder to shoulder, standing at ease, watching the sharks that were waiting for them in the waves—at the simple suggestion of their officers that the women and children filled the boats, and must be saved first. No saint ever died more simply; no martyr ever died more voluntarily; no hero ever died more firmly; no victim ever met his fate in a more generous spirit of self-immolation.”

Bravest of the brave, Lieut.-Colonel Seton of the Seventy-fourth, displayed in his conduct, as commander of the troops, a nobleness, a true courage, a self-sacrificing devotion, worthy of his country, and which bespeaks the man—the hero; and than which history or biography can furnish no brighter or more illustrious example. It is indeed a pity so brave a spirit should have fallen; and it shames the living—

that no suitable memorial marks his fall, save the common tablet of a common grief for a common loss which stands in the corridor of Chelsea Hospital, bearing the following inscription:—

“This monument is erected by command of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, to record the heroic constancy and unbroken discipline shown by Lieutenant-Colonel Seton, Seventy-fourth Highlanders, and the troops embarked under his command, on board the ‘Birkenhead,’ when that vessel was wrecked off the Cape of Good Hope, on the 26th February, 1852, and to preserve the memory of the officers, non-commissioned officers, and men, who perished on that occasion, The names were as follows:—

• “Lieut.-Colonel A. Seton, 74th Highlanders, Commanding the Troops.
• Cornet Rolt, Serjeant Straw, and three Privates, 12th Lancers.
• Ensign Boylan, Corporal M?Manus, and thirty-four Privates, 2d Queen’s Regiment.
• Ensign Metford and forty-seven Privates, 6th Royals.
• Fifty-five Privates, 12th Regiment.
• Serjeant Hicks, Corporals Harrison and Cousins, and twenty-six Privates, 43d Light Infantry.
• Three Privates, 45th Regiment.
• Corporal Curtis and twenty-nine Privates, 60th Rifles.
• Lieutenants Robinson and Booth, and fifty-four Privates, 73d Regiment.
• Ensign Russell, Corporals Mathison and William Laird, and forty-six Privates, 74th Highlanders.
• Serjeant Butler, Corporals Webber and Smith, and forty-one Privates, 91st Regiment.
• Staff-Surgeon Laing.
• Staff-Assistant-Surgeon Robertson.”

In the last and most sanguinary war with the Kaffirs of South Africa, which desolated that valuable colony between 1850 and 1853, the Seventy-fourth was engaged, and fully sustained its illustrious character. The enemy, sensible of his weakness, avoided meeting our army in the field, and maintained a harassing series of skirmishes in the bush, which proved most annoying and destructive.

It is remarkable that, in the course of our sketch, we should so frequently have been pleasingly impressed with the duty of recording the heroism of the officers of the regiment; and, commanded by such distinguished chiefs, it is no wonder the corps, moulded in their image, should fitly follow the good and glorious examples which have rendered the Seventy-fourth so signally known to fame. In the African campaign, its commanding officers are mournfully conspicuous as amongst the lost and brave. Whilst employed in the operations against the Waterkloof Post in November, 1851, Lieutenant-Colonel Fordyce was killed.

“At the moment he was hit, he was giving directions to a company of his own well-loved corps, which was skirmishing in the bush, and the position of which he wished to alter a little. Whilst raising his arm to indicate the ground he alluded to, a huge Hottentot stepped rapidly from a thick clump close by, and delivered the fatal shot; observing, with characteristic cunning, the irreparable mischief he had done, he screeched out, in hellish accents, ‘Johnny, bring stretcher,’ and, turning on his heel, dived into the clump again before the infuriated Seventy-fourth could wreak their vengeance upon him.

“Simultaneously they madly rushed on, and, in their too eager haste to renew the carnage, they rendered themselves an easy prey to their savage foe, who struck down Lieutenants Carey and Gordon, and many brave men, before they observed the necessity of rallying, when the sad work of carnage was amply avenged. Such, however, was the number of the wounded, that a waggon had to be sent from the hill to the spot to carry off the sufferers to their bivouac.

“Fordyce lived a quarter of an hour after receiving his death-wound. The ball had passed through his abdomen; and, as he was borne away in the consciousness of approaching death, he was just able to utter, in faint accents, the words—‘Take care of my poor regiment—I am ready,’ when he passed placidly away. Such was the end of this brave soldier. In life, straightforward, thoughtful, a friend to the poor and needy, and a truly Christian man; so in death he was calm, resigned, noble, and mindful of his duty both to God and man. His latest expression showed that, while he committed his regiment to the care of those whose duty it was, his uppermost thoughts lay in the final work of meeting his Maker. Such was Fordyce, beloved and respected by all who had the good fortune to know him!”

The regiment left the Cape for India in November, 1853, and has since continued in the Madras establishment. During the Indian Mutiny, a detachment of the Seventy-fourth, in the autumn of 1857, formed part of a moveable column under Brigadier Whitlock, on field service in the Kurnool district; and, in November, 1858, the head quarters composed a portion of a moveable column, under Brigadier Spottiswoode, in the Nizam country. The regiment is now stationed at Bellary.