Both battalions of the Highland Light Infantry were originally raised as Highlanders, and when they were amalgamated bore the numbers 71 and 74-+.  Of these the former, originally the 73rd when it was raised in 1777, did not receive its final number until 1786, and for long was known as Macleod's Highlanders, after its colonel, who, in 1778, received orders to raise a second battalion.  The latter had a brief existence of six years, serving chiefly as Marines in the victories of January' 1780, and the defence of Gibraltar by Lord Heathfield in that and following years; but neither they nor the regiment of which they formed a part seem to have been rewarded for their gallant conduct.  The other battalion had meanwhile been doing brilliant work in India, under Sir Eyre Coote, in the campaigns against Hyder Ali and Tippoo Sahib in 1778.  At Conjeveran two detached companies were compelled to surrender, and were brutally tortured, and offered a release only if they would abjure their faith.  but none failed; all held fast.  The regiment was also present at Porto Novo, Tripassoor, Vellore, Sholinger, Arnee, Cuddalore, Palghautcherria, Bangalore, Nundydroog, Savendroog, Outredroog, Ram Gurry, Sherria Gurry, Seringapatam, Pondicherry, and Ceylon, not returning to England until 1798.  It next assisted at the capture of the Cape of Good Hope by Sir David Baird in 1806, and sailed thence for Buenos Ayres, which it captured; but when it was retaken the regiment was compelled to surrender as prisoners of war, and it was a year before it was permitted to return home.

It was despatched to the Peninsula in 1808, serving at Rolica and Vimiera, under Sir A Wellesley, and behaved with the greatest bravery in the latter battle, the wounded piper refusing to leave the field, but remaining to play, with the remark, "Deil hae me, lads, if ye shall want music".  It was next transferred to Sir John Moore's command, and shared in the retreat that terminated in the victory of Corunna; joined the Holland expedition in 1809, and was engaged at Ter Veer and Flushing; again in 1814 embarked for the Peninsula, where it was present at Sobral, shared in the occupation of the lines of Torres Vedras, and took part in almost all the victories from that year until the termination of the war.  It shared in the actions at Fuentes d'Onor, Arroyo de la Molinos, Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, Bridge of Almaraz (where they captured a colour), Salamanca, Vittoria, Elizondo, the Pyrenees, Maya, Eguaros, Pass of Donna Maria, Altolispo, nivelle, Nive, St Helette, Garris, St Palais, Sauveterre, Orthes, Aire, Tarbes, and Toulouse, and had hardly returned home before it was detailed for service in the Waterloo campaign.

For the second time a 2nd battalion had meanwhile been raised in 1804, and had an uneventful existence for eleven years.  The name of the regiment had also altered.  In 1808 it had been called the "Glasgow Regiment", in 1809 it was made a Light Infantry force, and soon after was styled the "Highland Light Infantry", when, though it was a trewed regiment, its pipers were still allowed to wear the Highland dress.  The pipes were of silver, in consequence of a promise made by Sir Eyre Coote, who, struck with the men's bravery at Porto Novo, said they should have "silver pipes when the battle was over".

The tartan plaid of the Mackenzies was adopted in 1834.  This regiment was present at Sebastopol, saw service in Central India, and in the Umbeyla campaign; and for daring conduct at Marai, Gwalior, June 16th 1858, George Rodgers gained the Cross for Valour.  The old 71st by its brilliant record has added the following battles to its roll of honours: The Cape of Good Hope, 1806, Rolica, Vimiera, Corruna, Almaraz, Waterloo, Sebastopol, and Central India, and in 1882, Egypt, with the battle of Tel-el-Kebir.  It shares with the other battalion the honour of Fuentes d'Onor, Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, Salamanca, Vittoria, Pyrenees, Nivelles, Nive, Orthes, Toulouse, Peninsula, Sebastopol, and Central India.

The present 2nd battalion of the regiment was one of four raised in 1789 for the protection of British interests in India.  Though kilted, and wearing the tartan of the Black Watch, the men wore trews in their first campaign in India, whither they went the year following, joining, as the 71st had done, in the operations against Tippoo Sahib.  It, with two other Highland regiments, saw service at Seringapatam, Penagra, Kistnagherry, Seringapatam again, Pondicherry, Malavelly, and Seringapatam for the third time, when the place was captured.  It displayed the greatest gallantry in the storm of Tippoo's stronghold.

In 1803 it formed part of the expedition against the Mahrattas, behaved with the greatest bravery at Ahmednuggur and Assaye, having at the latter battle every officer killed or wounded, and at Argaum received the commendation of General Wellesley.  This it also received in 1804, when it marched sixty miles in twenty four hours, and dispersed the enemy, capturing his guns, making, said Wellington, "the greatest march ever made".  Again, when war broke out with Holkar it was engaged at Barenda and at the forts of Chandore and Gaulnah, and when a "forlorn hope" was wanted for the storming party the whole regiment turned out at once.  It was conduct such as this that laid the foundation of the Indian empire, and when it left Hindostan for home no regiment had a better record for courage, temperance, and good conduct.

It was not long unemployed.  In 1810 it joined Picton's division, and after fighting at Busaco fell back with the army to the lines of Torres Vedras.  It saw practically the whole of the fight in the Peninsula.  In the pursuit of Massena it was at Redinha and Foz d'Aronce, at Fuentes d'Onor, and El Bodon.

At the storm of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz the bravery of the regiment was emphasised by Piper McLachlan, who joined in the escalade of the breach, playing "The Campbells are coming" until an unlucky shot pierced the bag of the instrument.  After Salamanca and Burgos it entered Madrid, and shared in the retreat that was followed eventually by Vittoria; and in the advance on the Pyrenees was at the passage of the Bidassoa, Roncesvalles, Pass of Maya, St Sebastian, Pampeluna, Nivelle, Nive, Orthes, Bayonne, the Adour, and Toulouse.  It saw no further service until 1851, when it shared in the first Kaffir war, when in the fourth attack on the Waterkloof Colonel fordyce fell, ejaculating, "Take care of my regiment!" and where they suffered severely.  Finally, it was present in Egypt in 1882-83, suffering heavier loss than any other regiment at Tel-el-Kebir.  As with the other battalion, in 1846 the tartan for trews, cap, and plaid was restored, and this is the only trewed regiment that has a distinctive tartan.

The uniform is scarlet, with yellow facings.  On the button is the Order of the Thistle; on the star a horse, crowned with "Highland Light Infantry"; below the horse "Assaye" and the elephant.

The 3rd and 4th battalions are the 1st and 2nd Royal Lanark Militia.  The five affiliated volunteer battalions are also from Lanarkshire, the first, third and fifth having headquarters at Glasgow, the second at Overnewton, and the fourth at Lanark.  These have scarlet uniforms with yellow facings, except the second, which has black, and the last, which has blue facings.

The depot is at Hamilton; and the regimental nickname of the 71st was at one time the "Glasgow Light Infantry", from the number of men recruited from that town; that of the 74th was the "Assayes", after the battle in which they distinguished themselves.`

Extract from "The British Army and Auxiliary Forces" Colonel C. Cooper King, R.M.A. , 1894

How Private Wilson, 2^nd Battalion Highland Light Infantry, Won The V.C.

  Following hard on the tracks of the German hosts defeated in the great Battle of the Marne, the British Army, with its French Allies to right and left, advanced to the river Aisne.  There they found the beaten enemy waiting for them, reinforced and supported by a huge number of heavy guns originally destined to destroy the defences of Paris.  Is spite of such formidable obstacles, however, our intrepid soldiers crossed the Aisne under a terrible fire and established themselves firmly on the northern bank.  The country at this point is eminently suited for defence, the ground slopes away from the river to a high ridge, which is intersected by a number of ravines.  In those ravines are several villages, of which one named Verneuil was the scene of the fine exploit, which earned the V.C. for Private Wilson, of the 2^nd Highland Light Infantry. On September 14^th 1914, this latter regiment, with the King’s Royal Rifles and the Middlesex regiment, suffered heavy losses from a hidden machine gun, which they could not locate.  Again and again, when they attempted to charge, their lines was broken, men went down little ninepins before the deadly hail, and the survivors were forced to take cover they could behind haystacks or in ditches.  Searching anxiously for the place where the gun was concealed, Private Wilson detected moving figures in a little wood near the British lines.  He reported his suspicious to his officer, who rose to examine the wood through his glasses, but was instantly shot dead.  At the same moment Wilson fired at two figures now more clearly visible, and brought down two German soldiers.  Then, springing from his shelter, he dashed towards the wood, hoping to reach the gun before the Germans recovered from the surprise of being detected.  To his own amazement, however, on reaching the brink of a little hollow, he came on a group of eight German soldiers with two British prisoners.  Instantly Wilson decided how to act.  “Come on, men, charge!” he shouted, as though his regiment was at his heels, and he rushed down on a little group.  His coolness was rewarded-the Germans threw up their hands in prompt surrender, and Wilson had released the two British soldiers and called up his comrades to secure the German prisoners before they realized the trick he had played on them.  But his original object was still to be accomplished; from its hiding place the machine gun continued to work havoc in the British ranks, and leaving his prisoners with his comrades, Private Wilson set out once more on his perilous quest.  A rifleman of the Kings Royal Rifles instantly joined him, and together they pushed forward as rapidly as possible.  Soon they were detected and a storm of hail directed upon them; the rifleman fell, fatally wounded but Wilson went on undaunted, dodging the flying bullets and taking advantage of every scrap of shelter that offered.  At last he decided he was near enough to his target, and, partly sheltered by a heap of hay, he took careful aim at the grey figure operating the gun.  His first shot took effect, and the German dropped to the ground.  Another rose to take his place.  The Scotsman fired and again a German went down.  Another took his place, but only to share his fate.  Wilson’s aim was as accurate as though he were at the butts; with six shots he brought down, one after another, the six Germans who were operating the deadly gun.  Then he rushed forward to secure his prize, only to be confronted by a German officer, who rose suddenly from his hiding place and fired at Wilson point blank with his revolver.  Luckily hem missed-Wilson’s bayonet ran him through, and the gun which had slain scores of his friends was at last in the hands of the gallant Scot, who had risked his own life so freely to secure it. For his cool and courageous conduct, Private Wilson was awarded the V.C., and surely the coveted distinction was never better earned.  Extracted from 'Deeds That Thrill The Empire'    

How Lance-Corporal William Angus, of the 8^th (Lanark) Battalion Highland Light Infantry (Territorial force), Won The V.C. At Givenchy

    Before the war broke out, there was, as will readily be remembered, a decided disinclination in certain quarters to take our Territorial forces quite seriously, and even our old friend Mr. Punch could not resist the temptation of occasionally making their supposed ignorance of their duties the object of his genial satire.  No one, of course, doubted their pluck or their patriotic spirit, but there were many who contended that their brief period of annual training was far too short to be of any real value, and that, in the event of war, many months of strenuous work would be required to fit them to take their place in the field by the side of seasoned troops.  Never were critics more speedily confounded.  For though, at the outset, necessarily much inferior in such matters as marksmanship, quickness in taking cover and reconnoitring to the regular soldier with months or sometimes years of continuous training behind him, the intelligence and enthusiasm of the young man from the office or the shop enabled him to master his duties with astonishing rapidity, while in courage and tenacity he very quickly showed that he had little or nothing to learn from his professional comrade.  Indeed, it was a Scottish Territorial who was the hero of what, in the opinion of one who witnessed it, must be regarded as one of the most magnificent acts of gallantry and devotion that the modern battlefield has ever seen.  On the night of June 11^th-12^th 1913, during the engagement of Givenchy, a party of the Lanarkshire Territorial (8^th Battalion Highland Light Infantry), under the command of Lieutenant Martin, a young officer whose unfailing good humour and pluck had made him exceedingly popular, was sent out for the purpose of destroying a German barricade.  Some sharp fighting ensued, and while this was at its height a powerful German mine was fired, either intentionally or by accident.  When the Scotsmen returned to the British trenches, it was found that Lieutenant Martin was missing, and though several of his men volunteered to go back and search for him, and crawled about in all directions in the darkness, they could discover no trace of him.  When day broke, however, one of the British sentries caught sight of someone moving in the midst of a mass of loose earth close to the parapet of the German trench.  It was the missing officer, who had been wounded and stunned by the explosion of the mine, and half buried by the debris, which it had raised, and who now, having recovered consciousness, was endeavouring to work his way clear of the earth which was pinning him down.  There he lay, right at the foot of the German parapet, only some ten feet of earth between him and the most pitiless enemy that ever waged an unholy war.  His very nearness to them hid him from their view, but already they must of heard him moving, for presently, when the sun was a little higher, the ugly head of the periscope with its ghoulish eye was thrust up from the German trench, and leered at the wounded officers below.  A rifle rang out from the British lines, and a well-aimed bullet smashed the periscope to pieces, and though the Germans essayed repeatedly by the same means to ascertain Lieutenant Martin’s exact position, our marksmen shattered each periscope the moment it appeared.

             For the British had been fighting the unspeakable Hun too long to entertain the illusion that the enemy wished to discover where the wounded man lay with any idea of throwing him a rope and drawing him in.  They did not even expect them to be merciful and kill him.  No; they intended to leave him there in the cruel glare of a cloudless June sky, to serve as a bait to lure some gallant British soldier to his death; and it was to ascertain the spot upon which their bombs might be most effectively thrown that they had used the periscope.  And meantime they diverted themselves by exercising their brutal Teutonic wit at the expense of their hapless victim, and when he called to them pitifully for a drink of water to quench his raging thirst, they threw him, instead of a water bottle, an unlighted bomb!  Could the savages who rode with Attila have gone any further in fiendish inhumanity?  Presently there rose above the enemy’s trench a loop holed steel shield, fenced in by many sandbags to protect the marksmen who had been selected to shoot if any rescue were attempted.  A rescue by daylight now, indeed, appeared hopeless, but to a man the lieutenant’s company volunteered to rush the German trench at dusk, cost what it might.  But it was feared that before dusk fell the wounded officer, if left there all day in the scorching sun, might be beyond human aid; and so, towards midday, when the suspense had become almost unendurable, permission was obtained for one of the brave Scotsmen to attempt the apparently impossible task of bringing him in-only one, for the commanding officer refused to consent to any more of his men throwing their lives away.  There were many eager volunteers, but after some discussion, Lance-Corporal William Angus, a young man born and bred in the Lanarkshire town of Carluke, where Lieutenant Martin lived, was chosen.  An officer warned Angus that he was going to certain death, but he was not dismayed.  “It does not matter much, sir, whether sooner or later,” was his firm supply.     

             But before recounting this truly superb act of heroism, it may be as well to describe more full y the scene of it.  The Germans were entrenched on a bare, dry knoll, some seventy yards from the British, their trench having a high irregular parapet, beneath which lay Lieutenant Martin, now perfectly still.  In front of our lines, for a distance of some thirty paces, there grew the self sown corn of the previous year’ harvest, rank with weeds and affording good cover.  But for the remainder of the distance between the trenches every square inch of the ground was commanded by the enemy’s fire, and there was no shelter whatever.  Arrangements had been made for a heavy covering fire, which, it was hoped, would prevent a single German raising his head above the parapet; the trench was lined by our best riflemen, and on a ridge behind, and perhaps six feet higher, a machine gun had been mounted.  But, however accurate this fire might be, it could not interfere with the marksmen behind the steel shield or with the bomb throwers.  At two o’clock in the afternoon Angus slipped over the British parapet, and, flattened to earth, began to work his way toward the hostile trench, using every precaution that training and skill have given to the soldier.  No finer tribute, indeed, could have been paid to the way in which the young Territorial had been taught his business than the fact that he reached the German parapet without drawing the enemy’s fire.  Quickly, but coolly, he did his work.  He was seen to touch the lieutenant’s arm and whisper to him.  Then he raised him up and placed a flask of brandy between his teeth, and together they sat at the base of the parapet for a few moments to gather strength for the fearful ordeal before them.  The enemy had heard their movements by now, but the storm of bullets from the British trenches kept all German heads under cover.  However, at that moment, one of the Huns lobbed a bomb just over the parapet.  There was a loud explosion, a cloud of dust, and Angus and the wounded officer, realizing that it must be now or never, made their dash for safety, the strong man supporting the weak and guiding his faltering footsteps.  And then the Germans made their mistake.  The fastest sprinter in the world would have had but not a chance in a thousand of crossing that open space alive if only, they had been content to leave the work of murder to their snipers.  Instead they threw more bombs, raising great pillars of smoke and dust, which made it impossible for their riflemen to see where to aim, though they emptied their magazines at random.  Suddenly, from out of the midst of a cloud of dust, there emerged two figures, which stumbled pain crawl in; Lance-Corporal Angus, rising sore wounded to his feet, became separated from the officer.  A dozen bombs burst around him as he made for the trench at a different point; but he left the line of fire clear, and rifles and machine gun poured in a torrent of bullets, under cover of which he got in.  He was wounded in no less than forty places, while his fellow townsman, to save whom he had so gallantly faced almost certain death, was wounded in three places.  Happily, neither was dangerously hurt, and both eventually recovered.      The heroic young Territorial received the Victoria Cross, “for most conspicuous bravery and devotion to duty,” at the hands of the King himself.     Extracted from 'Deeds That Thrill The Empire'  

The Highland Light Infantry

 The Highland Light Infantry (Regimental District No. 71), the next regiment in the alphabetical order of territorial nomenclature, consists of the 71^st and 74^th regiments.  The present first battalion is the third regiment that has borne the number 71, and was raised in 1777, and known as McLeod’s Highlanders.  It was originally numbered the 73^rd, under which designation it acquired its early fame in the Indian Wars, nine years after its incorporation receiving the present number.  In 1779 the 71^st embarked, under Colonel McLeod, for India, and were soon actively engaged in the campaigns against Hyder Ali and Tippoo Sahib.  At Conjeveram the flank companies of the regiment, under Captains Lindsay and Baird, were sent to the assistance of Colonel Baillie, who found himself, “surrounded by the whole Hyder Ali’s army, and a fire opened upon him from sixty pieces of cannon.”  Despite the terrible odds, it seemed at one time as though the heroic courage of the little band of British was to achieve a victory.  Hyder’s cavalry were already in retreat, when an accidental explosion in the British lines threw them into confusion, and the overwhelming mass of the enemy closed in.  They were reduced to about four hundred men, who defended themselves to the last on a little eminence, even the wounded making shift to turn their bayonets against the wave of fierce horsemen.  In the hope of avoiding further sacrifice of life, the British at last surrendered, only to learn that in many cases the most painful death in battle would have been, by comparison, easy and pleasant.  The tortures inflicted anticipated the horrors of a later day in India.  “No sooner had the troops laid down their arms than they, the sick, and the wounded were all attacked with remorseless fury, and the most dreadful butchery ensued.  The young soldier of Hyder Ali amused themselves by fleshing their swords and exhibiting their skill on men already helpless and dying, on the sick and wounded, and even on woman and children.”  There were eighty-six officers of Baillie’s little force; of these thirty-seven perished and thirty-four were dreadfully mangled.  Of McLeod’s Highlanders eighty-eight were killed and a hundred and fifteen, of whom only twenty-three were unwounded, taken prisoners.  Amongst them-as he had been before mentioned-was Captain Baird, who was selected for an especial exhibition of the tyrant’s cruelty, as “much of the slaughter in Hyder’s force was attributed to his company of grenadiers.”  It is impossible fully to realise the tortures to which the unfortunate captives were subjected, tortures rendered the more diabolical, as in their stead were proffered wealth and pleasure if only they would “curse Christ and embrace Islam.  Many of these highlanders were at the very dawn of manhood, when life even for itself is lovely, and the passions and powers of enjoyment strongest.  They were chained each to the other in filthy dungeons, rendered more awful still by the presence of the dead and dying, and by the foul atmosphere, reeking in the sweltering heat of a tropical clime.  Without were riches and pleasures and beauty-sweet cool streams, soft luxurious couches for their wounded limbs, delicious foods, and dainty drinks.  To the credit of the brave regiment, let it be recorded and held in lasting memory, that “not one could be prevailed upon to purchase life on these terms.”

           At the siege of Cuddalore the 71^st-Macleod’s Highlanders-were again the only European regiment of Eyre Coote’s little army of 7,000 men which to confront the force under Hyder, consisting of “twenty-five battalions of infantry, four hundred Europeans, nearly fifty thousand horse, more than a hundred thousand matchlock-men, peons, and ploy gars in chain armour, with helmets and round shields, spears and sabres; and he had forty-seven pieces of cannon.”  The 71^st were under the command of Colonel Crawford, their late Colonel, Lord McLeod, having returned to Britain in consequence either of some disagreement with the Commander-in-Chief, or of his considering the rank of colonel not a sufficiently exalted one to be borne longer by one who had been Lieutenant-General in the Swedish army.  At Cuddalore, Perambucan, Sholinghhur, and Vellore the 71^st did right valiantly, at the first-named place undoubtedly giving a decisively favourable turn to the then doubtful day by the adroitness with which they occupied some redoubts evacuated by the enemy in a premature pursuit.

           Later on we find them engaged in the yet more serious hostilities, which included the engagements at Palghautcherria, Nundydroog, Savendroog, Outredroog, Ram Gurry, and Sheria Gurry, and the crowning exploits of Seringapatam and Bangalore.  At Bangalore the 71^st found they fighting with their present “linked battalion,” the 74^th, and together the regiments experienced severe work.  In the storming of one of the redoubts Captain Sibbald was shot; the assaults made by Tippoo’s followers waxed fiercer as their master’s cause grew more desperate; at last the stately palace and gardens of delight were in the hands of the warriors of a mightier monarch, and the lord of the countless armies of the East had to yield to the handful of which the 71^st was part.  Pondicherry and Ceylon experienced their prowess; then after a short respite came the expedition under Sir David Baird to the Cape, when the 71^st were brigaded under General Ferguson, and joined in the charge, which “was irresistible.”  Under Sir Home Popham they were the only complete British regiment which commenced the reduction of Buenos Ayres in 1806, sharing the fate of being made for a short time prisoners, owing to the force not being adequately supported.  In 1808, shortly after having received the title of “The Glasgow Regiment,” the 71^st proceeded to the Peninsula and shared in the conflict at Rolica.  At Vimiera they took part in the magnificent bayonet charge, which shattered the flower of the French Army.  A contemporary account has given a graphic description of the charge.  The French “came up to the charge like men accustomed to victory, but no troops, however brave, however accustomed to victory, have ever withstood the charge of the British bayonet.  In a moment their foremost rank fell, like a line of grass beneath the scythes of the mowers.”  Even after the decisive charge had been given the 71^st were called upon to re-sit a determined attempt on the part of the enemy to “turn the doubtful day again;” with terrific fury the French, under the gallant Kellerman, swept onto the valley where, panting from their past exertions, the 71^st and 82^nd were resting.  The British fell back a little, but their object in doing so was soon evident.  Arrived at a rising ground they poured a withering volley into the ranks of the enemy, and once again did the bayonet, like the Roman broadsword of old, “cleave deep its gory way.”  As they advanced to the charge their piper was shot through the thigh.  He refused to leave the field, and, sitting down, continued to play, with the cheery asseveration, “Deil hae me, lads, if ya shall want music.”  In the struggle, the French General, Bernier, was taken and would have been killed had not Corporal MacKay of the 71^st intervened.  To the General’s intense astonishment, MacKay refused the proffered purse; the explanation given by Colonel Pack to the bewildered inquiry, “What manner of man is this who saves my life and refuses my money?” was typical of the spirit of British warfare, “Sir, we are British soldiers, not plunderers.”  The corporal, one is glad to record, was, at Lord Wellington’s special direction, immediately promoted to the rank of sergeant.  After Vimiera came Corunna, at which they were engaged, and after that, at a short interval, the expedition to Flushing.  The year 1810 saw them in Portugal, commencing an era of surpassing fame.  At Fuentes d’Onor they fought stubbornly and long with the columns of Massena; at Arroyo dos Molinos the charge made by them and the 92^nd lives in the brilliant pages of Napier; they shared in the Homeric struggle at Ciudad Rodrigo; in the blood-coloured canvas on which the siege of Badajoz is portrayed some of the combatants are seen to be men of the 71^st.  At Almaraz they took a standard from the enemy; at Salamanca they fought and conquered; at Vittoria, where their leaders, General Cadogan, fell, they avenged right grimly his death, “three hundred remaining fir for duty out of a thousand who drew rations that morning.”  We can mention but the principal of the many engagements in which the 71^st were engaged.  They shared with their countrymen of the 92^nd the glory of the combat at Aratesque; they number Nivelle and Nive amongst their exploits; at St. Pierre they well atoned for the inexplicable error which, in the early part of the fray, had withdrawn them from action; at Orthes and Toulouse they bore themselves right valiantly; they bear-and the name tells of their historic gallantry on the day-the crowning honour of “Waterloo.”  After Waterloo the 71^st served with the army of occupation, and from that time till the Crimea they were quartered home, in Canada, and the Bermudas.  On their colours are “Sevastopol” and “Central India,” the tale of which has often been told before.  Their subsequent services have been confined to home and garrison duty, though during the Umbeyla campaign of 1863, a body of sharpshooters, formed by Lieutenant Fosberry from the ranks of the 71^st and 101^st regiments, performed most valuable service. The second battalion of the Highland Light Infantry is the 74^th Highland Regiment, which was raised in 1787 with a view to service in India.  Their record runs on much the same lines as does that of the first battalion: we find the same accounts of stubborn daring in India, crowned by conspicuous valour throughout the Peninsular War.

           The regiment arrived at Madras in 1789, and for with engaged in field service against Tippoo Sahib in the Mysore Teritory.  They took part in the attack on Seringapatam, in May 1791, and, on that project being for the time abandoned, found full outlet for their energies in the capture of various hill forts.  At Seringapatam, in 1792, the 74^th particularly distinguished themselves.  In the defence of the Sultan’s Redoubt, a detachment of the regiment, with about fifty Sepoys-in all about a hundred and fifty men-held out all day, resisting the attacks “of thousands upon thousands, repelling not less than five assaults, each undertaken by a body of fresh troops.”  They shared in the attack against Pondicherry in 1793, and in expedition against Manila of 1797.  At the battle of Mallavelly, in 1799, we again read of the 74^th as having “greatly distinguished themselves.”  When at last Tippoo’s hour had come, and through the dark night pressed on the avenging British, it is recorded that the 74^th were the first regiment to enter the tyrant’s palace, and that the general orders issued to the troops spoke of the “unparalleled valour” of that regiment.  At Ahmednuggur, in 1803, we read that their conduct was the “admiration of Major-General Wellesley.”  At the battle of Assaye, the following September, so fiercely were the 74^th engaged that at its close every officer was either killed or wounded.  None amongst the regiments who bear it have better earned the badge of “The Elephant,” and for long afterwards it enjoyed the proud sobriquet of “The Assaye Regiment.”  Argaum, Bareeuda, Chandore, and Gaulnah were to be included in the triumphs, which they bore with them to Europe on their return in 1805.  After five years rest, the 74^th were ordered to the Peninsula, and gave evidence that the fame of India was to gain additional lustre in Spain.  They “acquired fresh laurels at Fuentes d’Onor,” joined in the second and third attacks on Badajoz; gained particular praise by their conduct at the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo.  On the occasion of the third siege of Badajoz, amongst other incidents affecting the regiment, it is recorded that the piper, McLachlan, was foremost in the escalade, playing “The Campbell’s are Coming,” and encouraging his comrades by mien and gesture, when he was shot dead through the bag of his pipes, and martial music and gallant heart beats ceased together.  At Salamanca they fought most gallantly, were present at the siege of Burgos, at the battle of Vittoria in 1813, and at the subsequent action in the Pyrenees.  Nivelle, Orthes, and Toulouse closed for the experience of the Peninsular War, as during Waterloo they were in Ireland.  From that time 1851, though they have been quartered in numerous places, including Canada, the Bermudas, and West Indies, they have not been actively engaged.  In the latter year, however, they proceeded to South Africa to take part in the Kaffir War.  In the march against Sandhill the 74^th were the first to move, and “the pipes struck up ‘Over the Border’ and played across the frontier into Kaffirland.”  No troops could have fought better than did the 74^th in the wild country of the Kaffirs-wading through rushing streams, scrambling up stony precipices, plunging into the thick gloom of tangled forests, wherein from un-thought-of corners the fire of the enemy would be poured destructively on their line.  At the attack on the Waterkloof a rumour arose that the 12^th Regiment was cut off, and the 74^th rushed back and rescued their comrades.  It was no child’s play that savage warfare.  Capture meant mutilation of the most awful kind, the nature both country and climate was against us, death lurked behind every bush, and from every boulder might come the fatal assegai.  On one occasion the rearguard of the regiment was attacked and one man killed.  Captain Gordon sprang to the aid of another who was wounded, and the foes were driven off, but “not before the wretched man had been severely mutilated.”  Later on Colonel Fordyce was shot, dying with the words “Take care of my Highlanders” on his lips.  His successor, Colonel Seton, with sixty-six men, went down in the Birkenhead transport.  After the Kaffir War the 74^th went to Madras, where they remained till 1864, returning then to England.  Their next actual service was in Egypt, where in 1882 they won the latest of their distinctions.  Here they were in the Third Brigade under Sir Archibald Alison.  During the action at Kasassin they were at Ismailia, soon, however arriving at the point of concentration.  At Tel-el-Kebir they came in for probably the fiercest fighting of the battle.  The redoubt, which faced them, baffled all efforts at a front attack, and they had to try to force a way in at the sides.  Time will not permit us to more than mention that, as might be expected, they suffered more severely than any other regiment, having three officers and fourteen non-commissioned officers and men killed, fifty-two non-commissioned officers and men wounded, eleven missing.  A correspondent of one of the papers reported that in front of one of the bastions he saw six men of the 74^th lying in a row, heads and bayonets pointed forward, while immediately in front of these was the body of young Lieutenant Somerville, who had been leading, claymore in hand, when a volley laid them all low.”  Extracted from 'Her Majesty’s Army'      

WILLIAM MORDAUNT MARSH EDWARDS  (Lieutenant, now Major)  74^th Regiment (2^nd Battalion Highland Light Infantry)              At the battle of Tel-el-kebir, on September 13^th 1882, Lieutenant Edwardsdisplayed great courage in leading a party of his men to the attack on a redoubt.  He outdistanced his followers and dashed alone into the Egyptian Battery, killed the officer in charge, and was knocked down by a gunner.  Three of his men arriving at that moment saved him from being killed.  Major Edwards, son of H. W. B. Edwards, Hardingham Hall, was educated at Eton and Trinity College, Cambridge.  Gazetted Sub-Lieutenant (unattached) 1876.  Joined 74^th Highlanders 1877.  Served in Straits Settlements and Hong Kong; Egypt 1882, in which, in addition to the Victoria Cross, he received the medal and clasp and khedive’s Star; India 1884-9.  Five years Adjutant of 3^rd Battalion Highland Light Infantry.  Retred November 1896.  Appointed H.M. Honourable Corps of Gentlemen at Arms 1899.   

JOHN DAVID FRANCIS SHAUL  (Corporal, now Band Sergeant)  Highland Light Infantry            At the battle of Magersfontein, December 11^th 1899, when the Highlanders were mown down by the terrific rifle-fire of the Boers, Corporal Shaul’s bravery and humane conduct were so conspicuous that, not only was his own officer notice him, but even those of other regiments remarked upon it.  At one critical time he was especially prominent in encouraging his men to advance across the bullet swept open ground, setting them a splendid example by his own behaviour.  He was in charge of the stretcher-bearers-a very important duty-and was most conspicuous in dressing the wounds of the injured.  In one case he went to a wounded man, and with the utmost coolness and deliberation, sat down by him and attended to him, in spite of the hail of bullets, which kept him raining around him.  He continually went from one man to another, whenever he could mitigate suffering. Sergeant Shaul is the son of Sergeant John Shaul, 2^nd battalion Royal Scots, who served his country in the Crimea and in China 1860.  He was born at King’s Lynn, Norfolk Septemebr 11^th 1873, educated at the Duke of York’s School, Chelsea and at the age of fifteen joined the Frist H.L.I., with which he served in Crete during the fighting in 1898.  He fought in South Africa from the commencement to the end of the Boer War, receiving both medals and five clasps.  His commanding officers at Magersfontein were Lieutenant-Colonel H. R. Kelham, C.B., and Major T. Richardson, D.S.O., and H.R.H. presented the Duke of York at Pietermaritzburg, the Victoria Cross to him August 14^th 1901.