The Master of Aberfeldie, Volume 3 (of 3)Grant, James
General
The Master of Aberfeldie, Volume 3 (of 3)
Grant, James
Fiction
'The total casualties of the Highland Brigade are two hundred and
twenty of all ranks.
'One of the first we lost was poor Carslogie, the life of the mess.
He was shot by a wounded Egyptian, to whom he had just given a
mouthful from his water-bottle, and I blew out the miscreant's brains.
'We have also to sorrow for our noble Serjeant-Major, John M'Neill,
whose tall and soldier-like figure was long a feature at the head of
the column. He cut down several Egyptians with his claymore, but
fell at last, pierced by three wounds. He was, we know, the sole
support of a widowed mother, to whom he was tenderly attached.
'The fight was fought and won in the good old British fashion, with
the cold steel; the breech-loader has not yet rendered the bayonet
obsolete.
'The Guards and Highlanders made themselves at home among the tents
and spoils of the Egyptians; but our soldiers, flushed with glory and
fresh from conquest, no more spoke of the Gordons, the Ross-shire
Buffs, or the Black Watch, but of Donald Cameron of the Camerons--the
young hero from the Braes of Angus, who was the first in Tel-el-Kebir!
'Who could say what heroic blood was in his veins, for his name was
old as the hills, when the Camerons were known as the children of the
Follower of Ovi.
'I had some narrow escapes. A ball carried away the pommel of my
dirk. I had a bayonet thrust through my kilt, and two shells
exploded near me, covering me with sand; but I had a closer shave
than that. In the rush as I led on my company, two powerful
Egyptians in white uniforms, with scarlet tarbooshes, seemed to
devote their energies to killing me, as an officer or prominent
leader. Both attacked me with their fixed bayonets. By a circular
parry of my claymore, I turned one of them aside, and ran the man
through--or near--the heart. He screamed and grappled me by the
throat, dragged me down amid the blood-soaked sand. So savage and
powerful was his death-grip that had he failed to strangle me, I must
have perished under the bayonet of the other, whom Cameron cut down,
through tarboosh and bone to the chin, and then released me. A third
who came up he pistolled, and I hope Evan will get a clasp to his
V.C. for this.
'The papers will, of course, tell you all the rest--how we captured
the standing camp and immense stores of provisions and plunder; how
the victorious troops advanced with tremendous cheers across it to
the railway station, where soon after Sir Garnet came up; and how
Drury Lowe with his cavalry cut across the enemy's line of flight,
killing and capturing on every hand.
'I know how my father, with his great love of the old Black Watch,
will appreciate the story of our glory at Tel-el-Kebir; but the
aspect of the place was awful after the firing ceased and the sun
came up in his morning splendour--a sight never to forget, though I
have seen some terrible work in India.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account