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“The diolm’ drums alarm
our ears.
The seijeant screechs fu' loud,
A' gentlemen and volunteers
That wish your country gude,
Come here to me, and I sail gie
Twa guineas and a crown,
A bowl o' punch, that like the sea
Will soum a lang dragoon
Wi' ease this day.”—Fergussan.
IT is necessary to follow
the history of these regiments for a little, as the most erroneous
notions were and still are entertained on Deeside regarding the conduct
of the officers towards the men.
It is firmly believed that, towards the close of their period of
service, an attempt was made to sell them to the East India Company;
that the officers were to receive a large sum should they be able to
implement their part of the agreement, and ship the men from England The
value of the transaction to one officer was said to be a firlot of gold—
we forget if it was specified whether it was to be heaped or not Just as
the men arrived at Portsmouth, the matter got wind, and they refused to
embark in the ships prepared to transport them. A mutiny took place—the
old story of the Black Watch would have to be told again. The impression
made on the minds of the soldiers was deep—so deep, that they had sworn
if they could get their hands on their betrayers, they would hang them
incontinently, for they believed that, once in India, they were to be
treated like slaves, were to be at the mercy of those who bought them,
and to be subjected to all manner of bad treatment, and to be kept till
the last man of them had perished; or perhaps sold to Indian chiefs, to
be put to death by every species of torture.
When the news of this transaction reached Deeside on the return of some
of the men, the deepest horror was felt at the baseness of the officers.
People talked about nothing else, and the most exaggerated pictures were
drawn of the treachery and villainy that had been practised towards the
too confiding soldiers. It was natural to expect such an account would
receive full credence among the peasantry. It was a vindication of their
order for the mutiny their fellow-countrymen had taken part in, it was
in accord with the belief they entertained regarding the unfaithfulness
of those in power to the engagements to soldiers; and when, as at that
time, there was no means of enlightening them as to the actual
circumstances of the case, it is no wonder that the dark suspicions they
entertained grew and deepened as each returned soldier added his story
of treachery to what had already been told. There is no greater mistake
that politicians or others can commit than to attempt to draw upon the
simplicity of an ignorant primitive people; for, let but the smallest
suspicion of unfair dealing enter their minds, and it not only assumes
wide proportions, but holds its ground against all reason to the
contrary. It was so in the case of the soldiers of the 77th and 81st
regiments, the simple facts of whose history are these :—
In the year 1778, the young Duke of Atholl received from the Government
authority to raise a regiment of a thousand men for the service of the
state, with power to appoint officers. This was the usual practice of
the time, and such letters of authority were much sought after by the
heads of great houses, as they were thereby enabled to find commissions
for a large number of their poorer relatives. Most of the Highland
regiments were raised in this manner. The command of the 77th, or Atholl
Highlanders, was accordingly given to James Murray, son of Lord George
Murray. Invercauld, being brother-in-law to the Colonel of the corps,
naturally interested himself in the enlistments; and thus it happened
that Deeside was called upon for a contingent of the men. But the
recruiting operations extended far beyond the Invercauld estates. In
order to secure the requisite number in the shortest possible time,
commissions were offered to members of other families than those
connected with the house of Atholl.
Charles Gordon, of Shilagreen, brother of the laird of Abergeldie, had
been appointed to a lieutenancy in the Gordon Highlanders, or 89th
Regiment, raised in 1759. Though then only a very young man, he was now
a soldier of twenty years’ experience, and had seen some service in
India, where he attracted the notice of Major Hector Munro, under whom
he probably served at the battle of Buxar, in 1764. Returning home with
his regiment in the following year, he resided generally with his
brother at Abergeldie Castle; and while held in the highest repute as a
soldier and a gentleman by the neighbouring gentry, his generous
disposition and affable manners in a short time rendered him the idol of
the peasantry. He attended their balls and merry-makings, and was
invited to their weddings and feasts, in all of which he mingled with
the common people with an ease and grace that won their hearts. “ He was
the life of every company, an’ for a dancer there was never the like o’
him on Deeside, except maybe roch Sawnie Davidson,” is the tradition now
received regarding him.
Captain Gordon, being unattached at the time, was offered the high
position of Lieutenant-Colonel in the 77 th, and his acceptance at once
secured unbounded popularity for the corps, so that in the space of six
weeks the number of men was complete.
In the month of June they assembled in Perth, where they were formally
embodied, and thence marched to Port-Patrick and embarked for Ireland
Their service here was by no means of a pleasant character, the country
being then as now in a state of chronic rebellion, but their conduct was
most exemplary.
Peace being concluded, they probably expected to return home, in terms
of their enlistment; but in 1783 they were transported to England with
the view of being sent to India. There can be no doubt that the
Government intended to disregard the conditions on which the men had
taken service, but there is not the least ground for the belief that the
officers were at all to blame for this breach of faith; nor were they as
yet distrusted, for while the regiment was on its inarch through
England, it was announced to the soldiers that they were intended for
service in the East Indies, and, so far from showing dissatisfaction,
they pulled off their bonnets and gave three ringing cheers for a “brush
with Hyder Ali.” There can be little question, however, that they were
at this time under the impression that they were either to be
re-enlisted on more favourable terms, or were to receive a bounty. But
on their arrival at Portsmouth, finding that the order for embarkation
was not accompanied with the offer of any bounty, or the promise of any
reward whatever, suspicion of unfair dealing at once entered their
minds. They were also tampered with, it was said, by emissaries from
London, who intimated “ that they had been sold to the East India
Company, at a certain sum per man, and that the officers were to divide
the money amongst themselves.” These representations received a colour
of plausibility from the exertions made by the officers to induce the
men to embark, though they sprang from far less unworthy motives than
those ascribed to them. It was their duty to endeavour to secure
compliance with the order of the Government; but besides this, it was
very much against their own interests that the regiment should be
disbanded, as thereby they would be thrown out of employment To Colonel
Gordon especially the Indian campaign offered great temptations. He had
already seen service there, and as a subaltern had secured the
favourable notice of Sir Hector Munro, now almost at the head of the
military affairs of the Company. To appear again upon the scene, this
time as second in command of a brave Highland regiment, whose action in
the field he had no doubt would be the salvation of the Company, opened
a prospect of distinction to which no officer could be indifferent He
was therefore particularly anxious that the orders of the Government
should be complied with, and on him and his superior officer accordingly
fell the weight of the men’s suspicions of treachery.
For several days the utmost confusion and excitement prevailed; the
officers were hooted, and their authority despised, and mutinous ballads
were composed and circulated through the ranks. A fragment of one of
these, in the shape of a parody on the Jacobite song of “Johnnie Cope,”
will serve to show the excited state of feeling that prevailed—
"To the East Indies we were sold
By Murray, for a bag o' gold.
But, hold! for we will a tale unfold,
And it will rust his glory.
Chorus—Oh, Charlie !* are ye wakan' yet,
Or are your drums a beaten’ yet,
The Highland drums to arms do beat,
Will ye go on board this morning?
If it were to fight with France or Spain,
With pleasure we would cross the main;
But for like bullocks to be slain,
Our Highland blood abhors it.
Chorus—Oh, Charlie &c.
To the East Indies we winna go,
To serve Eyre Coote or Hec. Munro;
Our time is oot, and hame well go
In spite o' a’ their noses.
Chorus—Oh, Charlie! &c.
Another writer gives the following account in a letter to a friend—“ You
may be sure I have had my perplexities since the mutiny commenced in the
77th Regiment, but I must do the men the justice to confess that, except
three or four drunken fellows, whose impudence to their officers could
only be equalled by their brutality, the whole regiment have conducted
themselves with a regularity that is surprising; for what might have
been expected from upwards of one thousand men let loose from all
restraint? Matters would never have been carried to the point they have,
but for the interference of some busy people who love to be fishing in
troubled waters. On their being informed that two or three regiments
were coming to force them to embark, they flew to their arms, and
followed their comrade leaders through the town with a fixed
determination to give them battle, but on finding the report to be
false, they returned in the same order to their quarters. The regiment
is not to go to the East Indies, contrary to their instructions, which
has satisfied them, but will be attended with disagreeable consequences
to the service, and since the debates in the House of Commons on the
subject, I should not wonder if every man intended for foreign service
refused going, for the reasons then given, which you may depend on it
they are now well acquainted with.*
In the debates in Parliament on this unfortunate affair, the Secretary
for Ireland bore the most honourable testimony to the good conduct of
the regiment when in Ireland. He said, “I had the 77th Regiment
immediately under my observation during sixteen months of their garrison
duty in Dublin, and though it was not the most agreeable duty in the
service, I must do the men the justice to say that their conduct was
most exemplary. Their officers were not only men of gentlemanly
character, but peculiarly attentive to regimental discipline. Having
once, upon the sudden alarm of invasion, been under the necessity of
sending an order for the immediate march of the regiment to Cork, they
showed their alacrity by marching at an hour’s notice, and completed
their march with a despatch beyond any instance in modem times, and this
too without leaving a single soldier behind.”
As the blame lay entirely with the Government, none of the men were
brought to trial The order for the embarkation was countermanded, and
the regiment was immediately marched to Berwick, where it was disbanded
in April, 1783. The Aberdeenshire Highlanders, whose terms of engagement
were the same as those of the Atholl Highlanders, were also intended to
be sent to India, but on hearing of the refusal of the latter regiment,
they also declined to march from their quarters, and were accordingly
sent to Scotland and disbanded at the same time.
The news of this unfair and unworthy attempt on the part of the
Government spread like wildfire in the Highlands, and had the most
pernicious effect on all subsequent endeavours to raise soldiers there.
If a Highlander enlisted, his relatives gave him up for lost; he had put
himself into the hands of an unscrupulous master who might sell him to
the highest bidder—Indian chief or Turkish Pacha—as if he were a horse
or a bullock. Add to this feeling the bitter indignation now rankling in
the minds of the common people on account of the clearances which about
this time had reached their culminating point of severity in the
northern shires, and were practised more or less over most of the
Highlands, and it is no wonder that the days of volunteering into the
army were at an end. The army, indeed, was looked upon as the instrument
by which landlords were enabled to carry out their cruel evictions. So
far from there being now any emulation among the people to find posts,
as they termed it, for their sons in the army, the prevailing sentiment
was that of Rory Gunn—“ Son of mine in a red coat, to be sold as a
slave, or forced to pull his countrymen out of house and hauld at the
bidding of the laird! I’d rather see him in his grave-clothes—there
would be no degradation there.”
It is true that it was only in Ross and Sutherland, where the Macraes
had risen in a body to oppose by force the wholesale clearances of their
native glens, and had been dispersed by the military, that this
sentiment had attained so high a degree of intensity. But if the
evictions were fewer on Deeside than in the north, its connection with
the soldiers of the 77th was more intimate, and the unpopularity of the
army was scarcely less strong. And even on Deeside more than a
sufficient number had been compelled to give up their fields to the deer
of the forest, to kindle in the breasts of those that remained a spirit
of hatred against the offending proprietor, and of opposition to the
authority that gave him power to oppress. The spectacle of a band of
evicted families from the upper glens of Braemar, passing through the
long Strath, with sorrow and sadness depicted in every face, and headed
by a piper playing “ Lochaber no more,” was not likely soon to be
forgotten, or to awaken the most friendly feelings towards those who, by
the strong arm of the law, had been the cause of the melancholy
procession.
When, therefore, in 1793 Britain was entering upon a war that boded to
be more protracted than any she had yet engaged in, and to demand of her
more soldiers than she had ever yet had on her military establishment,
it is little wonder that the Highlanders kept back. At first letters
were issued as on former occasions, empowering chiefs to raise soldiers
for the service of the state, and so blinded were the statesmen of that
time to the change that had taken place in the sentiments of the people
that they deemed it needless to offer the small bounty previously given
to those who enlisted. Not a single soldier left Deeside; nor, with the
exception of the Cameron and Strathspey Highlanders, was there a single
regiment raised north of the Grampians. Finding no success from the
economical method adopted, the Government restored the bounties, but now
even this failed in bringing in the necessary number of men.
At this time (1794) the Marquis of Huntly undertook to raise a regiment,
and letters of service were granted him for that purpose. The Marquis
was the most powerful and popular nobleman in the north, and though the
success of his undertaking could not be doubted, the regiment which he
raised could scarcely be called a Highland regiment, more than half the
men belonging to the lowlands of Aberdeen and Banff. The letters of
service under which he acted authorised him to enlist, by compulsion if
necessary, idle and unemployed men, who had no industrial occupation, or
it was popularly believed that he had such authority and could delegate
it to the recruiting officers under him, who, if not so invested by the
State, certainly availed themselves of the general belief that they
were, and in this way secured several recruits on Deeside, while they
put many others to no small shifts to invent occupations for the time
being, or otherwise to find grounds of exemption. Two cases are still on
the traditionary records of the district
John Shewan, a very powerful but a very indolent man, who would neither
work nor want, inhabited a small tenement on the very brink of the bum
of Greystone. Lieutenant Alexander Stewart wss stationed with a
recruiting party at Inverey in Biaemar, with the view of raising men in
the upper district, and Peter Gordon of Abergeldie, a brother
lieutenant, was instructed to cooperate with him, and endeavour to
obtain some recruits in his own neighbourhood. Now John Shewan, living
quite opposite to Abergeldie, was well known to Gordon as a very
handsome man, but one that the district could very well spare, and he
became anxious to secure him. But John could never be found at home when
a party from the Castle waited upon him to do him this honour. For
months he did nothing all day long but keep watch on a commanding knoll,
and at the first appearance of Gordon tartan he was off to hiding.
He had only one confederate, his wife, but she was a faithful ally; and
with her assistance he managed to foil all attempts to ensnare him, or
catch him napping. At first Shewan, having nothing else to amuse him,
rather enjoyed the sport of leading the soldiers a wild-goose chase. But
it became wearisome, and he was heard to express his intention of giving
one or two of his tormentors a striking proof of his presence if they
did not speedily put a stop to their visits. This had the effect of
increasing the number of the hunting party, and it was said that they
never afterwards attempted to beat up John’s quarters unless they were
fifteen strong.
On one occasion, when Lieutenant Stewart was at Aber-geldie, it was
proposed that he should undertake the capture of the fugitive, and
scouts were accordingly sent out These bringing in information that for
once Shewan was off his guard, Stewart mustered a party of horse and
foot, hastily crossed the Dee at Aanfuile, and advancing rapidly up the
hillside, was soon at the door of John’s dwelling. Here he was met by
the gude-wife, who, with a smiling countenance, invited him to come in.
“Is John at home?” inquired the lieutenant, assuming the same lively,
indifferent air that the wife manifested.
“Awyte he’s nae that,” replied she, “an’ I hardly expect him hame the
nicht; for he’s awa’ wi’ our neibbor’s stirk to the glen. Fa’ll I say
was speeran for him?”
“I would just like to see him myself,” replied he, “and we will take a
turn about the braeside here; perhaps he may appear before long.”
He then directed his party to beat up the neighbouring coverts, certain
from the information he had received from his scouts that he must be
hiding at no great distance.
They had no sooner left the door than the wife rushed to her watch-tower
on the top of the knoll, whence she observed their movements with much
keenness, though with seeming indifference. AH at once she shouted at
the pitch of her stentorian voice—“ Rin, Jock, rin; they're makan’
straight for ye.” Away went Shewan from his concealment at the back of
an old stone dyke, and away went Stewart galloping after him, followed
by a dozen others at various distances behind. By directing his course
over the most rugged and rocky tracts, the pursued for some time kept
well ahead ; but it was evident that this could not last long, and that
sooner or later his strength must give way to the horse power at the
service of the military. He was rapidly coming to this conclusion
himself; and seeing no hope of finally making good his escape, was about
to surrender, when the indignant notes of his wife’s trumpet tongue from
the watch-tower made the hills ring with—“Tak’ to the wud, ye gype.”
Immediately Shewan doubled round a rock, to deceive his pursuers, and
then rushed full speed towards a birch wood at some distance off. A foot
soldier, who happened to be in his path, gave him a broad stare as he
passed like a deer, blowing and snorting, but took care also to give him
a wide berth. Having gained the thicket, Shewan for that time eluded his
pursuers.
Talk of fox-hunting ! It is but tame sport compared to what recruiting
for the Gordon Highlanders on Deeside was in the year of grace 1794; but
what a change has come over the spirit of the people when the service,
which ten years before had been an object of ambition to the youth of
the district, now required such measures as those to fill its ranks.
The other case to which allusion has been made was somewhat different in
character. There lived in a small hut near Lebhal “an idle lounger” of
the name of John Coutts, on whom the recruiting party stationed at
Abergeldie Castle had set their eyes as one coming within the sphere of
their jurisdiction. Coutts had no military proclivities, but he
disdained to evade the claim upon him by adopting the fugitive tactics
of his neighbour Shewan. He preferred rather to have a Scriptural
warrant for his proceedings, and took his cue from the conduct of David
during his first visit to Gath—he feigned himself mad; and following the
example of another king, whenever the soldiers paid him a visit,
pretended to be vigorously eating grass and looked savage. Nothing could
be made of him. His wife declared that he was “oot o’ his senses;” and
his conduct before the soldiers bore her out in her statement Gordon,
however, knowing that John was three parts rogue for one part fool,
continued to make inquiries by the hands of the red-coats regarding his
state of mind; but, at their appearance, he would be found either on all
fours on the field, or chewing a bush of heather or broom, a bundle of
which he always carried under his arm to be ready when occasion might
require. Instead of avoiding the soldiers, he generally advanced to meet
them, bo-o-ing like an ox, and often rather seriously terrifying them.
During one of Lieutenant Stewart’s visits to Gordon, the latter
mentioned to him how completely Coutts had fooled the recruiting
sergeant. Stewart, always keen for an encounter with refractory
characters, desired to be conducted to the house of this man. “The
Inverey man,” as Stewart was called, had by his vigorous measures
inspired no little dread of his name, and when his approach was
signified, Coutts felt it was necessary for him to be more than usually
circumspect On nearing the house, the Lieutenant heard a noise
proceeding from within, as if some one were breaking the furniture to
pieces. Giving his horse in charge to the soldier that accompanied him,
he fearlessly stepped in at the low narrow doorway, and found John’s
wife, apparently in great trepidation, holding fast the lids of the
box-bed, while the prisoner within kept knocking with his hands and feet
all round, as if he were making frantic efforts to escape.
“Mercy! sir,” said the wife, “I’m glad ye’ve come, sir. He’s Dae mows,
sir. If he brak lowse, he’ll devoor the house, sir; an’ I’m hardly able
tae haud tee the lids, sir; uve, uve!”
Instead of assisting the woman to “haud tee the bed lids,” as she seemed
to wish him, Stewart looked on calmly for a minute or two to make sure
of how matters stood; but so perfect was the acting on the part of both
man and wife, that he was deceived into the belief that Coutts really
wanted to escape; and, losing temper at what he conceived to be the
violence of the man, exclaimed, “ Let out the scoundrel, perhaps I’ll
cure his madness.”
“Uve, uve! Oich, marooai! ” ejaculated the wife, and held the lids more
firmly than before.
“Let him out, woman; I’ve a cure for him, or perhaps I can give it him
in his bed.” Saying which, Stewart went out for his horse-whip. While he
was doing so, the prisoner, who had got a hint of what the next act was
likely to be, immediately burst from the bed and house, and boo-ing like
an infuriated bull, set off wildly over the adjacent haugh, with no
covering but a rag of an old ham shirt The Lieutenant instantly mounted
his war-horse, and the ground being favourable for riding, was soon
alongside of John, to whose bare limbs and back he applied the whip cord
without stint But although in this manner he whipped him back to his
house again, he did not succeed in making the sufferer betray himself.
As soon as he entered the house, his wife pretended to push him into bed
by sheer force, and then held to the lids as before; and, as before,
John kept up the same pretended efforts to escape. Upon discovering
this, Stewart rode off, saying as he left—
“I give him up, wife, he’s undoubtedly mad.”
Though Coutts was not likely after this adventure to be much molested by
the recruiting gang, he was determined to have his revenge for the
horsewhipping he had received. Accordingly, some time after, observing
two soldiers passing along the road, he armed himself with a pitchfork,
stuck some hay into his mouth, and rushed at them like a bull at a red
cloth. The fellows took to their heels, and John pursued. After a heat
of more than two miles, he relinquished the chase, chuckling at the
fright he had given the red-coats.
Soon after this the party was withdrawn from the district, and John
Coutts returned to his right mind. “I’m nae feel noo,” was his
exclamation, when he was told that they were gone for good.
Thus ended recruiting on Deeside in the Olden Time.
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