From the diary of William Watson, Ladysmith, January 1900:
Shells plumping into the town, as usual. — It is said Guinness the great Dublin brewer, is sending out £10 000 worth of beer, for the Ladysmith garrison. If true, it is very handsome present, and much needed by our men. Why can not those almighty chiefs of the Campbell’s and Duffs, follow his example, and help their grandmother’s army. I suppose they are too greedy. How be it, the Scotch are second to none as soldiers, and they are better educated and more moral than all the rest of Europe. Where other nations have crimes, the Scotch have only failings. Some of these failings are exasperating enough. For instance, they lay claim to all the military glory of the United Kingdom. Wellington, had a very mixed army of 71000 men at Waterloo. The French had about an equal number. In Wellington’s army, there were 6 000. Scotch, and yet they claim to have won the battle, ignoring English, Irish, Dutch, Germans, and Belgians. A great artist, once painted a picture of the battle of Waterloo, which was much admired north of the Tweed. It consisted of one tremendous Highlander, flourishing his claymore. All the rest of the allied army had presumably fled. — The Scotch are generally supposed to be fond of a bargain. So are all other nations, and none more so than Mr. Bull himself. The great difference between the Scotch and other nations, is that the Scotch if not very lavish in their promises, intend to fulfil them, while the others can afford to be more liberal in their promises, because they do not intend to be bound by them. — Again, the Scotch are called clannish. This is neither crime, fault, nor failing. It is only another name for genuine patriotism. The creatures who call themselves cosmopolites, or citizens of the world, and renounce their native land are always devils. When Sir Collin Campbell led his brigade again the Russians at Alma, he shouted, “We’ll hae nane but Highland bonnets here.” That was clannish enough, but it was noble all the same. — Brockbank had a narrow escape yesterday. A big shell landed within a few feet of him, and burst, sending a shower of lumps of iron on all sides. — We never get a particle of news of any sort.