VOLUMES 1-3) ***




Produced by Al Haines.





                         *THE ROMANCE OF WAR:*

                                  OR,

                            THE HIGHLANDERS

                         IN FRANCE AND BELGIUM.


                              A SEQUEL TO

                       THE HIGHLANDERS IN SPAIN.


                                   BY

                           JAMES GRANT, ESQ.

                         _Late 62nd Regiment._



          "In the garb of old Gaul, with the fire of old Rome,
          From the heath-covered mountains of Scotia we come;
        Our loud-sounding pipe breathes the true martial strain,
         And our hearts still the old Scottish valour retain."
                          _Lt.-Gen. Erskine._



                           IN THREE VOLUMES.

                                VOL. I.



                                LONDON:
                       HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER,
                       GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
                                 1847.




                                LONDON:
             PRINTED BY MAURICE AND CO., HOWFORD BUILDINGS,
                           FENCHURCH STREET.




                               *CONTENTS*

Chapter

      I. Toulouse
     II. Adventures
    III. The Lady of Elizondo
     IV. Cifuentes
      V. Home
     VI. The Torre de Los Frayles
    VII. Spanish Law
   VIII. An Acquaintance, and "Old England on the Lee"
     IX. Flanders
      X. Cameron of Fassifern
     XI. The 17th June, 1815
    XII. The 18th of June
   XIII. The Sister of Charity
    XIV. France
     XV. The Chateau de Marielle
    XVI. Paris, De Mesmai, and the Hotel de Clugny
   XVII. A Catastrophe
  XVIII. The Homeward March
    XIX. Edinburgh
     XX. Lochisla
    XXI. Alice
   XXII. News from Afar
  XXIII. Conclusion




                               *PREFACE.*

Numerous inquiries having been made for the conclusion of "The Romance
of War," it is now presented to the Public, whom the Author has to thank
for the favourable reception given to the first three volumes of his
Work.

In following out the adventures of the Highlanders, he has been obliged
to lead them through the often-described field of Waterloo.  But the
reader will perceive that he has touched on the subject briefly; and,
avoiding all general history, has confined himself, as much as possible,
to the movements of Sir Dennis Pack's brigade.

Notwithstanding that so many able military narratives have of late years
issued from the press, the Author believes that the present work is _the
first_ which has been almost exclusively dedicated to the adventures of
a Highland regiment during the last war; the survivors of which he has
to congratulate on their prospect of obtaining the long-withheld, but
well-deserved, _medal_.

Few--few indeed of the old corps are now alive; yet these all remember,
with equal pride and sorrow,

    "How, upon bloody Quatre Bras,
    Brave CAMERON heard the wild hurra
    Of conquest as he fell;"

and, lest any reader may suppose that in these volumes the national
enthusiasm of the Highlanders has been over-drawn, I shall state one
striking incident which occurred at Waterloo.

On the advance of a heavy column of French infantry to attack La Haye
Sainte, a number of the Highlanders sang the stirring verses of "Bruce's
Address to his Army," which, at such a time, had a most powerful effect
on their comrades; and long may such sentiments animate their
representatives, as they are the best incentives to heroism, and to
honest emulation!

EDINBURGH,
       _June_ 1847.




                          *THE ROMANCE OF WAR*



                              *CHAPTER I.*

                              *TOULOUSE.*


    "One crowded hour of glorious life,
    Is worth an age without a name!"


The long and bloody war of the Peninsula had now been brought to a final
close, and the troops looked forward with impatience to the day of
embarkation for their homes.  The presence of the allied army was no
longer necessary in France; but the British forces yet lingered about
the Garonne, expecting the long-wished and long-looked for route for
Britain.  The Gordon Highlanders were quartered at Muret, a small town
on the banks of the Garonne, and a few miles from Toulouse. One evening,
while the mess were discussing, over their wine, the everlasting theme
of the probable chances of the corps being ordered to Scotland, the
sound of galloping hoofs and the clank of accoutrements were heard in
the street of the village.  A serjeant of the First Dragoons, with the
foam-bells hanging on his horse's bridle, reined up at the door of the
inn where the officers of the Highlanders had established a temporary
mess-house.  Old Dugald Cameron was standing at the door, displaying his
buirdly person to a group of staring villagers, with whom he was
attempting to converse in a singular mixture of broad northern Scots,
Spanish, and French, all of which his hearers found not very
intelligible.

The horseman dashed up to the door with the splendid air of the true
English dragoon, and with an importance which caused the villagers to
shrink back.  Inquiring for Colonel Cameron, he handed to Dugald two
long official packets; and after draining a deep hornful of liquor which
the Celt brought him, he wheeled his charger round, and rode slowly
away.

"Letters frae the toon o' Toulouse, sir," said Dugald, as, with his flat
bonnet under his arm, and smoothing down his white hair, he advanced to
Fassifern's elbow, and laid the despatches before him; after which he
retired a few paces, and waited to hear the contents, in which he
considered he had as much interest as any one present.  The clamour and
laughter of the mess-room were instantly hushed, and every face grew
grave, from the ample visage of Campbell, who was seated on the
colonel's right hand, down to the fair-cheeked ensigns, (or Johny
Newcomes,) who always ensconced themselves at the foot of the table, to
be as far away as possible from the colonel and seniors.

"Fill your glasses