Poor Scotland! although she has lost her name and her place among nations, she is not the less dear to her sons.
The harbour of Calais presented a very animated scene. The frost had passed away: it was a warm, sunny morning, and every thing was bright and glistening. From the great quay two long wooden piers jutted out into the water, which tossed and foamed around the green and sea-weed-covered piles which compose them.
These piers were lined by two or three battalions of French infantry, and behind them were dense crowds of spectators. The French flag was flying on the _beffroi_, or watch-tower, of the Hôtel de Ville, and on the bastions of all the little forts which defended the harbour. The basin was crowded with the boats and craft for the conveyance of the British troops, whom the French authorities were, no doubt, very glad to get rid of. Several British man-o’-war boats were pulling about in different directions. These had been sent by some of our Channel cruisers to superintend the embarkation.
As Ronald rode down towards a flight of steps, to clear the way for the regiment, a man-of-war’s boat, manned by eight oars, came sheering alongside the jetty. Stuart dismounted to speak with the officer, who stepped forward from the stern, and, abandoning the tiller-ropes, shook him heartily by the hand; while the crew, and the crews of the other boats, pulled off their tarpaulin hats, and gave three hearty cheers of welcome to the red-coats. The cheer was taken up by the populace, and resounded along the quays: the French bands struck up the favourite air, ’A good Voyage to the gallant Scots,’ while the troops presented arms, and the officers saluted with their swords. As older regiments than the Gordon Highlanders, the Royal Scots and 42nd embarked first. About two hundred men were in each barge, and, as they moved from the shore by the aid of sail and sweep, their bands played the ’Downfall of Paris,’ an air which could not have been very pleasant to French ears. With better taste, the band of the other regiment played ’_Vive Henri Quatre_,’ the notes of which mingled oddly with those of the bagpipes. The pipers of the whole brigade were seated in the bows of the boats, blowing a perfect storm of wild and discordant sounds.