THE ROYAL SCOTS ("Pontius Pilate's Body Guard")

"A volley, my lads, and then the steel!"—Their Captain at Wepener.

The Royal Scots (1st Foot, or Lothian Regiment) are old in story. Several hundreds of years before the battle of Blenheim, which is among the first of their honours, the Royal Scots had traced their earlier glories on the roll of fame. Few European battlefields could disclaim acquaintance with them, and there are few on which they have not been responsible for terrific slaughter, and a large share in the crux of victory. Their ancestors far back fought under Gustavus Adolphus: their lineal descendents fight now under King George; and the bridge between that time and this has been held by them heroically.

It is interesting to trace their battles from the first. Long, long ago, fighting for Sweden, they captured and defended Rugenwald in Pomerania. Being wrecked on a hostile coast, with Adolphus eighty miles away, these Scots were led by Munro, with what might seem to us an absurd hope of victory. All day they waited in the caves by the sea shore, starving, wet, and cold—waited for the night, so that, under the cover of darkness, they might bring their desperate plan to fruition. Darkness fell; the moon rose, and these hungry Scots went forth to the attack. In one stroke they captured Rugenwald, and held it against repeated attempts on the part of the enemy to retake it. For nine weeks they gripped this place, and held on tooth and nail till Hepburn's men, fighting mile after mile to their relief, came up.

Hepburn's men! They were Scots, every one of them. Men who, led by Hepburn himself, captured Frankfort on the Oder. He took them to the attack waist deep through the mud and water of the moat. At the great battle of Leipzig, "the battle of the Nations," Gustavus held these men in reserve. Then, when the issue was in danger, he flung them forward. The musketry fire galled them severely, but through it all the pikemen went cheering on, and put the enemy to an inglorious rout.

Later, in 1632, Hepburn, who was somewhat a soldier of fortune, found himself on his way to aid the King of France. In 1634 he led his regiments against the Austrians and Spaniards. Here he was joined by Scots from France, and Scots from Sweden. Other Scots came up from the four quarters of the compass, as if by a gathering of the clans, and three years later there were 8,000 of them serving under the King of France. Those 8,000 are the martial sires of the present Royal Scots.

As to the heroic achievements of the Royal Scots, we may instance the battle of Wynendale. General Webb (Thackeray's favourite General of "Colonel Esmond") won that battle with an army of 8,000 men against 22,000 Frenchmen. It was his work to take supplies from Ostend to Marlborough's army in the field. Near the wood of Wynendale he detected the preponderating force of the enemy intent on intercepting his mission, but, in order to do this, they must traverse the wood. The odds were nearly three to one against Webb, but, relying on his men as much as on his own generalship, he decided to put up a fight of fights. The way of the enemy's approach was a great glade through the wood, and to right and left of this he placed detachments of his troops while he stationed the main body of his army at the point where they must debouch. Then he waited. That long wait for the oncoming host has been much described: how for a time they gazed up the long avenue through which the foe must come; how every man felt that tense expectancy, which lends to the simple sounds of nature a meaning of their own, and how 8,000 staunch hearts went back to the old folks at home with tenderness, and possible regret, before the descent of an avalanche which threatened to bereave their hearths.

But at length the enemy teemed in at the further end of the glade. On they came, warily scanning the wood, but it was not till the Royal Scots poured a volley into them that the enemy actually realized what was happening. When the smoke cleared away, confusion reigned in their ranks; they rallied, and came on with greater determination, but again they were hurled into disorder and death by the British fire. Yet a third time they attempted it, and with all the bravery of the French, but a third time they met with that penetrating fire that none but the British, with their ugly bulldog pertinacity, can stand. They failed to forge their way through the storm of lead, and at last retired in confusion, leaving one third their number of British as victors of the field.

The Royal Scots have more than once been helped out of a difficulty by other regiments. For instance, at Schellenberg in 1714, the ultimate victory, after three daring attempts on the part of the Royal Scots, who fought their way up against a heavy fire from the heights above, was made sure by the Scots Greys, who dismounted and rushed to their assistance. This engagement cost the French a valuable position, and 16 guns.

This help in the time of extreme peril was balanced by the Royal Scots at the battle of Lundy's Lane, where they arrived in the nick of time to make up 2,800 British against 5,000 Americans. After a hard fight the enemy was driven back, but they opened again with a devastating fire of musketry and artillery, following it up with a most determined charge. So desperate was their onslaught that the British guns were captured, and immediately following on this, the Royal Scots performed a deed which is underlined in history. They recaptured those guns, and left the enemy bewildered. This was the closest fight imaginable. In the thick of it, the opposing cannon almost spoke into each others' mouths. So close they were, that neither side could say, "This is my gun." In point of fact, in the heat of the moment a British limber carried off an American gun, and an American a British gun. On that field the contact between British and American was extremely close. In these days it is just as close, but not exactly in the same fierce spirit.

One of the foremost of the exploits of the Royal Scots was the defence of Tangier against the Moors in 1678. In Port Henrietta some 160 of the Royal Scots had been isolated. In order to facilitate their escape their comrades in the town created a diversion by leading a general attack. In the midst of this the Scots got as far as the first trench surrounding the fort, but, at the outer one, which was 12 feet deep, they came into close grips with the enemy. There it was sheer knife-fighting, and many Royal Scots went to the bottom of the pit. One hundred and twenty of them filled it full, and over that bridge of silence forty survivors hewed their way through.

The last charge at Wepener is described in the History of the Boer War as follows "The Royal Scots saw the Boers rushing and their warrior hearts beat quick with joy. Shortly, like a man in a dream, their Captain gave the word, 'Fix bayonets!' It was done in a trice. 'Ready!' The men loaded their rifles. 'A volley, my lads, and then the steel! Altogether—' The whistle blows, the flame flies along the parapet. Then, over the stone wall, sprang the Royal Scots. Once they shouted, once only. Then the slaying began…. Fifty thousand savage throats swelled the battle chorus. Ever since the siege began the black warriors had been gathered in their thousands on the heights, watching with fascinated interest the struggle of the white men. Like the spectators of a medieval tournament they had applauded the gallant deeds of the combatants, and, as they saw the British soldiers holding out day after day, night after night, against the assault of numerous odds, they came to have a profound trust and confidence in the 'big heart' of the Queen's soldiers. When, therefore, they saw the Royal Scots launch themselves like a living bolt at five times their number, they held their breath for a time, wondering what the end might be. But when they saw the bloody bayonets of the 1st Foot scatter and utterly destroy the hated Dutchman they opened their throats and yelled their applause across the river."

THEIR BADGES, BATTLE HONOURS, ETC.

Badges.—The Royal Cypher within the Collar of the Order of the Thistle with the Badge appendant. In each of the four corners the Thistle within the Circle and motto of the Order, ensigned with the Imperial Crown.

Battle Honours.—The Sphinx, superscribed Egypt. Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde, Malplaquet, Louisburg, St. Lucia, Egmont-op-Zee, Corunna, Busaco, Salamanca, Vittoria, St. Sebastian, Nive, Peninsula, Niagara, Waterloo, Nagpore, Maheidpore, Ava, Alma, Inkerman, Sevastopol, Taku Forts, Pekin, S. Africa 1889-1902.

Uniform.—Regular and Reserve Battns., scarlet with blue facings.

[This distinguished corps is the oldest regiment in the Army, hence its nickname of Pontius Pilate's Body Guard. There is a tradition that it represents the body of Scottish Archers who for centuries formed the guard of the French kings. It fought under Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden, in the Seven Years' War, and was incorporated in the British Army in 1633. Since that date it has seen service in every part of the globe.]