might have passed since the beginning of the advance march, when lo!
the dull, rumbling thunder of the first cannon-shot rolled over the wide
field.
The General reined in, and directed his field-glasses upon the left
wing, where the cannonade increased in violence each minute. Another
half-hour and the sharp rattle of infantry fire mixed with the heavy
rumbling of big guns. No doubt, on the left wing, by Shah Dara, the
battle had commenced. Advancing towards the right bank of the Ravi, the
Russians threatened to attack Lahore.
The Commander-in-Chief despatched two orderly officers to the right wing
and the centre, with the order to accelerate the march. Then he returned
with his suite to his former position.
But Heideck could not at once make up his mind to follow. From the
moment the first shot had been fired the battle fever had seized him; he
was only a soldier now.
He was irresistibly attracted by a building a short distance away, with
a slender minaret, from which he hoped to obtain a better view. It was
the half-decayed mausoleum of some saint, and Heideck had some trouble
to climb up to the top of the minaret, a height of about twenty feet,
whilst his servant waited with the horses down below. But the exertion
was fully rewarded. He overlooked the flat plains. The sinuous Ravi
river was hardly half an English mile distant. Its banks were covered
with high grass and thick jungle growth; on the other side of the river
immense thickly-packed masses of troops appeared--the advancing Russian
army.
Both armies must soon come into collision by the river, for single
English cavalry regiments and horse artillery batteries, advancing in a
long line, were already in its immediate neighbourhood.
Heideck had seen sufficient to be able to judge of the position of the
battle. He climbed down the minaret and mounted his fresh steed, whilst
Morar Gopal sprang into the saddle of his own horse. They quickly
arrived amongst the British cavalry, deploying in advance of their main
army. The advance march was now executed with greatest rapidity. The
English batteries dashed forward at the fastest pace the soft ground
would permit, unlimbered, and opened fire. Large masses of infantry
marched towards the jungle. But from the other side of the river the
lively English fire was but feebly returned. Only from the direction of
the left English wing, invisible from this point, did the artillery and
infantry fire rage with unabated violence.
In consequence, considerable reinforcements were sent to the apparently
hard-pressed left wing, and a distinct weakening of the centre took
place, without a clear idea having been formed as to the intention of
the Russians. Heideck’s conviction was that such probably had been the
Russian tactics. He was of opinion that they probably raised a great
battle din by Shah Dara, in order to direct the attention of the English
to that point, and then deliver their main attack against the centre.
He was right; the main forces of the Russians were opposed to Colonel
Baird.
Another circumstance he could not explain was the curious fact that
the English as well as the Indian infantry regiments halted before the
jungle instead of pushing forward to the river. Not even riflemen were
sent into it, although the bush was by no means too thick for a chain
of riflemen to take cover. The prickly bushes on the river’s bank were
sparse enough, and the high grass reaching up to the mens’ shoulders
would have made a splendid hiding-place.
By-and-by the English army had executed the movement to the left, and
now stood facing the Russian front. One new regiment after the other was
drawn from the second division and placed on the left wing, which was
believed to be most threatened. The English guns thundered without
interruption, but their position might have been better; many fired
without being able to see the enemy at all through the thick jungle, and
threw away their ammunition prematurely.
The sun shone brightly in the cloudless sky. A slight north-westerly
breeze coming from the far distant hills blew the smoke of the powder in
clouds back on the English army.
The enemy being thus completely shrouded from view, the infantry stood
motionless. A sullen expectation brooded over the colossal forces,
who realised danger, but were yet condemned to a torturing inactivity.
Suddenly the wild roar of thousands of voices rose from the river, and
hosts of cavalry, which before could have been held back by English
infantry, broke through the jungles like immense swarms of locusts.
Thousands of wild Afghans and warriors from Bukhara, Samarcand, Khiva,
and Semiryechensk, combined in the Turkestan divisions, had crossed
the river and, wildly crying “Allah! Allah!” hurled themselves upon the
English battalions and batteries. Splendidly trained at firing from the
saddle, they were terrible foes indeed.
Although the English returned the unexpected attack with crackling
volleys, and did not recoil a hair’s breadth from their positions, the
Russian lines suffered but small losses in consequence of their open
order. One new swarm after the other broke through the jungle, and
rushed like an army of devils upon the batteries. A few of these were
silenced; the men who served them were killed before they were able to
turn their guns against their assailants, so wildly rapid had been this
surprise rush of the bold horsemen.
The English cavalry, advancing to a magnificent attack, arrived too
late; the weight of the shock was lost, the enemy having already
dispersed in all directions. These men understood how to manage their
small, rapid horses in a marvellous manner. They seemed like centaurs,
and the rapidity with which they broke up their squadron, in order
immediately after to close up again at another place in dense masses,
rendered a counter attack on the part of the serried ranks of their
adversaries almost impossible.
At one time, Heideck, with that part of the staff to which he had
attached himself, had been drawn into the shock of battle. He had been
obliged to shoot an Afghan, who attacked him, down from his horse, and
he would probably, a moment afterwards, have been laid low by the
sabre of another, had not the faithful Morar Gopal, who displayed
extraordinary courage, just at the right moment made the horseman
harmless by a well-directed blow of his sword. The cavalry engagement
was still undecided, when lo! in the grass before the jungle were seen
a number of glittering sparks. The sharp crack of shots was heard, and
their destructive effect showed how admirably the Russian riflemen, who
were gradually advancing against the British army, knew how to
handle their rifles. The British infantry kept on discharging volleys
indefatigably, but no practical result of all this waste of ammunition
was apparent. Their targets were too small and too scattered, and the
mechanical volleys fired at the word of command had but little effect.
Besides this, the Russians had admirable cover, with the variegated
jungle as a background, whilst the English stood out sharply against the
horizon, and presented an excellent mark. According to their plan,
the Russians first of all directed their fire against the men who
were serving the batteries. Their well-directed shooting decimated the
English artillery to a terrible degree. Scarcely two minutes had elapsed
before the order was given to fall back with the guns. As far as was
possible, the English harnessed up, and galloped off to take up their
position between the infantry battalions, and from there again to
open fire. The advance of the English artillery, which had taken place
contrary to orders, and which was a result of their over-hasty forward
movement, thus showed itself to have been a most disastrous step.
An even stronger and more damaging effect than that of the attack
itself, was produced by the ceaseless cries of “Allah! Allah!” which
proceeded from the Afghans and the Turkestan cavalry, and penetrated
to the Mohammedans who stood in the British lines. Heideck saw quite
clearly that, here and there, the Indian soldiers ceased firing as if
in obedience to a word of command, and could distinguish how English
officers in their excitement struck the men with the flat of the sword
and threatened them with the revolver. Obviously, the leaders had lost
all influence over the foreign elements under their command. Close to
the Commander-in-Chief an English captain was bayoneted by an Indian
soldier, and there could be no doubt that similar cases of open mutiny
took place amongst the other Indian troops.
The men, who had only followed the orders of the foreign tyrants with
the utmost reluctance, evidently believed the moment had come for
shaking off the hated yoke, and at the same time the old enmity between
the Mohammedans and Hindus, the rivalry between the two religions, which
often in times of peace occasioned bloody feuds, burst into open flames.
In the midst of the British army duels to the death were fought out
between the irreconcilable adversaries. Thus it was unavoidable that the
entire discipline became shaken and destroyed.
The battlefield was an awful spectacle. Before the front innumerable
wounded, crying out for help, where no help was possible, were writhing
in agony, for the retreat of the English artillery had had to be
executed without thought of those left behind; wounded horses, wildly
kicking to free themselves from their harness, increased the horror of
the terrible scene, whilst stray divisions of English cavalry riding
amongst them were fired upon by their own infantry out of fear of
the advance of the Russian riflemen. Although in war all battlefields
present a spectacle of the utmost horror, so that only the excitement
of the moment enables human beings to endure it, yet the picture this
battle of the advanced lines presented surpassed all imagination. The
want of discipline amongst the English lines increased more and more,
and the English officers had to fix their whole attention upon their own
troops, instead of upon the movements of the enemy. The necessity for
this was soon evident.
Prince Tasatat was the first to leave Colonel Baird with his entire
force, and openly to march over to the enemy. His example was decisive
for the Indians who were still hesitating, and the number of those going
over to the enemy increased from minute to minute.
A uniform control of the line of battle had long since become
impossible. Colonel Baird gave orders for his guns to open fire upon
Prince Tasatat’s company, and, like him, many other commanders fought
their own individual battle just as their own judgment prompted. Indian
regiments dispersed in all directions, because the men cared less for
fighting than for getting booty from the prisoners and wounded. There
were hand-to-hand fights in many parts of the battlefield, which, owing
to the fanatical rage of the combatants, degenerated into horrible
butchery. Those falling into the hands of the Afghans were most to be
pitied. For these devils in human shape cut off the heads of all their
prisoners and all wounded, whether Mohammedans, Hindus, or English,
without any further ado, and in their rapacity tore the valuables from
the bodies of the dead and wounded.
A line of fugitives, like an immense stream, passed the English
regiments, which still stood firm in serried ranks, making for the plain
of Lahore, in order to find protection behind the walls of the fortified
city.
In Heideck’s opinion the day was lost to the English, and he prepared
himself to die a soldier’s death, together with the brave men
surrounding him. With feelings of sincerest admiration he confessed how
great was the bravery, and how admirable the discipline that animated
the English-born troops. Those regiments and batteries in which no
native elements were mingled, stood calm and unshaken amongst all the
terrible confusion, and thanks to their bravery, the battle, which
opened in such disorder, began to present clear features, like those of
the sharp peaks of a chain of mountains appearing above the mist, as it
rolls down.
Instead of the semibarbarous horsemen that had opened the attack,
new Russian batteries and colossal masses of infantry, with compact
companies of riflemen, as well as several regiments of dragoons, now
faced the English troops.
The Commander-in-Chief, with about 6,000 men and two batteries, was with
the second English division, which had been greatly reduced in numbers.
It was evidently his object to retire in good order towards Lahore, and
to cover the retreat with his best troops.
He succeeded in withdrawing two smaller bodies from the right and left
wing respectively by despatching orderlies. But the first division was
so closely engaged with Russian infantry that an orderly retreat was
almost impossible.
Notwithstanding this, the Commander was bent on making the attempt to
withdraw also the first division of his army. He despatched one of his
adjutants to Colonel Baird, who still had perhaps about 2,000 men under
his command, with the order to break off the battle and to retire. The
young officer saluted with grave face, drew his sword, and galloped
away. But he had only traversed a small part of his dangerous journey,
a distance of about a mile, when he fell a victim to the call of duty,
being attacked and hurled from the saddle by a body of Cossacks mounted
on small, rough-haired, but very swift steeds.
The General appeared undecided whether to stake another young life on
this hopeless test. Heideck rode up to him and lifted his hand to his
helmet.
“Will Your Excellency allow me to ride? I am a friend of Colonel Baird
and should be glad of the opportunity of showing him my gratitude for
his kindness to me.”
The General sharply scrutinised the gentleman who was unknown to him,
who looked like an officer, though not wearing the prescribed uniform;
but he did not take the time to question him.
“Ride!” he said shortly. “The Colonel is no longer to hold out; he is to
march to the right and retreat towards Lahore--if possible.”
Heideck saluted and turned his horse. He had replaced his revolver in
his belt, and returned his sword to its sheath.
Not by the aid of weapons, but solely by the rapidity of his horse could
he hope to reach his goal. He gave his steed its head, and encouraged
it by calling to it. The animal did not disappoint the hopes placed
upon it. It seemed to fly, rather than run over the trampled ground. The
Cossacks, who attempted to intercept this single horseman, were unable
to reach him. And of all the shots aimed at the bold rider not one
reached its mark.
The volunteer orderly reached the brigade without harm. But he was too
late; almost at the same moment the collision with the Russian infantry,
which, in spite of their losses, had advanced steadily to the attack,
took place. In order to sell his life and those of his brave troops as
dearly as possible, Colonel Baird had given orders to form a square, in
the midst of which the horsemen and the guns were placed. Many officers,
leaving the saddle, had picked up the rifles and cartridge-boxes of
those that were killed, and, levelling their bayonets, had taken their
places in the front rank of the square. Breathing heavily, and covered
with perspiration Heideck stopped before the Colonel and made his
report.
But the brave Englishman pointed with his hand towards the Russians.
“Impossible,” he said. “We are destined to die upon this spot.”
Then he also dismounted and seized a rifle. From a thousand British
throats a loud “Hurrah!” broke forth, for the Russians had reached the
square, and a hand-to-hand combat took place.
The horror of this terrible struggle at close quarters, the English
fighting with the struggle of despair against a foe outnumbering them
many times, impressed itself indelibly upon the memory of the young
German. He, too, had drawn his sword, but in spite of his personal
relations, his political sympathies were not on the English side.
Suddenly he heard, close to him, a hoarse cry of rage, and, on turning
round, perceived to his boundless surprise the face of Captain Irwin,
terribly distorted by hatred and fury. He had supposed him to be with
the depot in Chanidigot, but Irwin must have found an opportunity
of getting away from that command. Indeed, under the existing
circumstances, it must have seemed equivalent to a severe censure, and
Irwin had attached himself to the troops taking the field. He was now
fighting in this death-struggle, rifle in hand, like a private soldier.
The red blood staining the point of his bayonet bore eloquent testimony
to his bravery. But in this supreme moment his country’s enemies were
forgotten in the sight of the mortal foe, the object of his personal
hate, by whose courageous action the dastardly plot against Edith had
been frustrated. Here were place and opportunity offered for satisfying
the thirst for revenge, which consumed him. What mattered the death of a
single unit in the midst of this great holocaust?
Before Heideck could divine the intention of the wretched man he was
attacked by his bayonet. It was solely the rearing of a frightened horse
that saved the Captain’s life; the thrust of the bayonet grazed the
animal’s neck. At the same moment the terrible sword-cut of a Russian
fell upon Irwin’s unprotected neck (for he had lost his helmet), and
with such force that, with a hollow cry, he fell on his face.
Suddenly the curiously altered, now hoarse voice of the Colonel struck
Heideck’s ear: “What are you still doing here? Ride, for Heaven’s sake!
Ride quickly! If you should see them again, take my last loving messages
to my poor wife and children! Stay by them!”
The blood from a deep wound on his forehead was pouring over his face,
and Heideck saw that only by the greatest exertion of will could he keep
himself on his legs. He wanted to reply, but the Colonel had already
again hurled himself into the tangled throng of fighters, and a few
seconds later fell under the butt-end blows and sabres of the Russians.
Then Hermann Heideck turned his horse and galloped off.
XIV
IN THE PANIC-STRICKEN CITY
As on his ride to Colonel Baird’s brigade, so also was Heideck on his
return threatened by manifold forms of death. Although he successfully
and happily avoided all compact bodies of troops on his way across the
bloody battlefield, yet single Russian horsemen came up close to him and
more than once he heard the shrill whistle of bullets as they whizzed
past his head. But in the battle-fever that had seized him he had
no thought of danger: all his thoughts were solely occupied with the
question as to how he should contrive to arrive at Lahore, in order to
fulfil the last request of the Colonel.
Bleeding from several wounds, his brave stallion put forth his utmost
efforts to carry his rider safely away from the turmoil of battle. The
wounded animal was still able to travel a considerable distance at full
gallop. But suddenly he began to slacken his pace and to stumble, and
Heideck perceived that his strength was exhausted. He dismounted in
order to examine the injuries the horse had sustained, and at once
perceived that he could not expect further exertion from the poor brute.
In addition to a bayonet-thrust on the neck, it had also a bullet-hole
on the left hind flank, and it was from this wound that the blood was
principally streaming. In stertorous panting the poor beast laid his
head on his master’s shoulder, and Heideck stroked and patted his
forehead. “Poor chap--you have done your duty, and I must leave you here
behind.” And now, for the first time, the anxious dread overcame him
that he, too, would not escape with his life from this battlefield,
for he perceived a horseman in Indian uniform approaching him, waving
a sword. Heideck drew his revolver from his belt in order to protect
himself against his assailant. But he immediately recognised in his
supposed enemy his faithful boy, Morar Gopal, who beamed with joy at
having by chance again found his master, whom he had believed to be
dead. He wanted at once to leave Heideck his horse, and to attempt to
make his own way on foot. But the German officer would not accept this
unselfish sacrifice on the part of his servant; but he was relieved
of the necessity of again separating from his faithful henchman by the
fortuitous circumstance that, at that very moment, an English officer’s
riderless charger came in sight. The animal, a beautiful chestnut, was
uninjured, and allowed itself to be caught without trouble. They
were now in a position to continue their flight together, and Heideck
resolved to turn towards the left English wing, because, as it appeared
to him, the action was there proceeding with less ill-fortune than at
other parts of the now totally defeated British army. This was certainly
not the shortest way to reach Lahore, but it would have been a foolhardy
enterprise to join the wild throng of fleeing troops and their pursuers
which was already pouring along the road towards Lahore.
The far-stretching plantations of Shah Dara, lying on both banks of the
Ravi, with the bridge of boats connecting them, were, as a matter of
fact, still occupied by English troops, who had until now maintained
their positions without any severe loss; but they had been, of course,
in superior numbers to the Russians confronting them. For the attack
upon Shah Dara, with which the battle had opened, had in the main been
only a feint; its object being to force the English centre, against
which the main attack was to be directed, to send out reinforcements,
and thereby fatally to weaken itself. Heideck had seen with his own eyes
how completely this plan had succeeded. Now, however, when the victory
they had gained made their forces in other positions available for the
work, the Russians commenced to attack this position also in superior
numbers. Russian battalions from the reserves were being hurried up at
the double, and new batteries made their appearance, ready to open fire
upon Shah Dara and the mausoleum of Shah Jahangir, which lay to the
south of it.
The English on their side were prudent enough not to engage in a
hopeless battle of sheer desperation, but began their retreat, whilst
they had still time to carry it out in tolerable order.
When Heideck had reached the southern end of the plantations, a regiment
of Bengal cavalry was just crossing the pontoon bridge, and Heideck
joined it. A Russian shell, which burst right in the middle of the
troop, without, however, despite the severe losses it had caused,
interrupting the formation, was a clear proof that the situation was
here also quite untenable.
With comparatively few losses and without having once been drawn into an
engagement, the regiment drew up close under the citadel, which, in the
north of Lahore, lies inside the outer works.