Note 1 — REGIMENTAL LISTS.

This officer’s name has been immortalised by Napier in his Peninsular War. He came of a Scottish family, and was the eldest of three sons of a retired naval officer who resided in Edinburgh. He was the pride and glory of the branch of the army to which he belonged, and the beau-ideal of what a Horse Artilleryman should be. He served with great credit in Maj. Bull’s troop of R.H.A., in the Pa., from 1811 to 1813. It was in the campaign of 1811 that he performed the brilliant action which Napier’s facile pen has so strikingly illustrated. This happened on 5th May, 1811, when, the British cavalry out-guards being far outnumbered near Fuentes d’Onor, were driven in upon their supports, and Capt. Ramsay found himself cut off. It is a matter of history how Ramsay, at the head of his battery, charged like a 218whirlwind through the French squadrons who intervened between his handful of men and the British troops, and rejoined the latter in safety when given up for lost. And at the battle of Vittoria, Ramsay again distinguished himself, but, by an unfortunate act of disobedience to Wellington’s orders, he incurred the Iron Duke’s iron displeasure. The story has been told as follows by a well-known author, and differs somewhat from the account given by Col. Duncan in his History of the Royal Artillery:—“I remember hearing a striking instance of what, perhaps, might be called severe justice, which he exercised on a young and distinguished officer of artillery in Spain; and though one cannot help pitying the case of the gallant young fellow who was the sacrifice, yet the question of strict duty, to the very word, was set at rest for ever under the Duke’s command, and it saved much after trouble, by making every officer satisfied, however fiery his courage or tender his sense of being suspected of the white feather, that implicit obedience was the course he must pursue. The case was this: The army was going into action. The Duke posted an officer, with his six guns, at a certain point, telling him to remain there until he had orders from him. Away went the rest of the army, and the officer was left doing nothing at all, which he didn’t like; for he was one of those high-blooded gentlemen who are never so happy as when they are making other people miserable, and he was longing for the head of a French column to be hammering away at. In half an hour or so he heard the distant sound of action, and it approached nearer and nearer, until he heard it close beside him; and he wondered rather that he was not invited to take a share in it, when, pat to his thought, up came an aide-de-camp at full speed, telling him that Gen. Somebody ordered him to bring up his guns. The officer asked, ‘Did not the order come from Lord Wellington?’ The aide-de-camp said ‘No,’ but from the gen., whoever he was. The officer explained that he was placed there by Lord Wellington, under command not to move unless by an order from himself. The aide-de-camp stated that the general’s entire brigade was being driven in, and must be annihilated without the aid of the guns, and asked, ‘Would he let a whole brigade be slaughtered?’ in a tone which wounded the young soldier’s pride, savouring, as he thought it did, of an imputation on his courage. He immediately ordered his guns to move, and joined battle with the general; but while he was away an aide-de-camp from Lord Wellington rode up to where the guns had been posted, and, of course, no gun was to be had for the service which Lord Wellington required. Well, the French were repulsed, as it happened; but the want of those six guns seriously marred a pre-concerted movement of the Duke’s, and the officer in command of them was immediately put in arrest. Almost every general officer in the army endeavoured to get this sentence revoked, lamenting the fate of a gallant fellow being sent away for a slight error in judgment while the army was in full action; but Lord Wellington was inexorable, saying he must make an example to secure himself in the perfect obedience of officers to their orders, and it had the effect.”—Mr. Lover’s Handy Andy. To a man of Norman Ramsay’s highly honourable and sensitive nature the circumstances of his arrest, coupled with the omission of his name from the Vittoria despatches, and the loss of a brevet he had well earned, may be said to have inflicted a wound which neither time nor subsequent honours could heal. Three weeks after his arrest he was restored to the command of his battery, to the great joy of the whole army in Spain, and after the battle of the Bidassoa he was promoted bt. maj. At Waterloo he commanded the H Troop R.H.A., and his forward gallantry in that battle attracted the fatal bullet which put an end to his noble life. He was buried on the field by his great friend Sir Augustus Frazer, during a momentary lull in the battle, but three weeks later was disinterred and his body sent to Edinburgh, as the only 219consolation to his aged father, half-demented with grief, who was fated to lose his three gallant sons in the short space of eight months. Norman Ramsay m., 14th June, 1808, Mary Emilia, eldest dau. of Lt.-Gen. MacLeod, of Macleod. Sir Augustus Frazer erected a monument to Ramsay’s memory on the field of Waterloo. The hero’s remains were subsequently interred in Inveresk Churchyard.