A TOUCH-AND-GO ENGAGEMENT
All the 4th of March we were busy strengthening our entrenchments,
filling up tumbrils and ammunition hackeries: in short, preparing.
Information had arrived that the enemy were going to attack us on the
5th, and would bring a very strong force to the task. Several of the
swell rebel Rajahs were to be present. All was in readiness by dark on
the evening of the 4th; and at 2 A.M. on the morning of the 5th the
alarm was sounded. The force moved out of its entrenchments, and formed
up a mile or so to our front. Cavalry on both flanks, guns in centre,
and infantry were equally distributed on each side of the battery.
There we remained, waiting for news. The cavalry patrol had been sent
out five miles along the road, to feel for the enemy.
Daylight appeared; yet no news had been sent in. Not until seven
o’clock did we see our patrol retiring at a comfortable trot along the
road. Soon after break of day they had observed this huge mass of the
enemy advancing, and had, consequently, retired. We had not to wait
long. Clouds of dust told us of their whereabouts. The clouds extended
a very considerable distance, overlapping our front on both sides. Not
long afterwards we could hear the bugle calls of the enemy; and I must
own it was rather an anxious time for us. The Brigadier, alive to the
occasion, rode about and spoke a few words of encouragement to the men.
How we longed to be all white troops, instead of a mixed force! All
told, we mustered only 1700 infantry, 250 cavalry, and four guns. The
enemy, we heard afterwards, were 15,000 strong--half Sepoys and half
badly-armed rebels--with twelve guns. The next thing to be done was to
show as large a front as we could. The regiments were actually placed
in single file in one long line. We could not afford supports, and the
four guns were divided. In fact, we had to take our chance. Luckily,
had to deal with niggers only: or.... Words fail me.
About 9 A.M. the action was begun by the enemy firing his 18-pounder,
then some 1500 yards distant. As we had nothing that ranged more than
1200 yards, we were at a disadvantage. So a general advance was made;
our skirmishers were thrown out; and the guns soon got their range.
All this time I saw masses of men moving about in large knots, their
object being to outflank us. Their cavalry were galloping about, though
they did not seem to have much formation: only clouds of men and clouds
of dust were to be seen for miles. This artillery and skirmishers’ duel
went on for about an hour. Rowcroft calmly waited events: it was for
the enemy to show the initiative: we were too weak to manœuvre. Their
guns did us little harm (our line was thin); for the most part they
fired much too high, clean over our heads.
Our guns pitched their shell beautifully into any large knots they
saw; also into their cavalry, which quickly retired in consequence. At
eleven or so, the first signs of manœuvring began by the enemy trying
to get round our right flank. We changed front slightly; and the right
squadron of Bengal Cavalry, to whom I had the pleasure of taking the
order, were ordered to advance and charge. They hardly waited for me
as I galloped up. They knew before I hailed Major Richardson, now in
command, what my bent was, and they were off. Our half battery also
advanced at a gallop, the ground being very open (a grassy plain, in
fact), and blazed away at the left of the enemy, who soon got the worst
of it and were driven back. Noticing this retrograde movement, our
centre, which had now been reformed two-deep, advanced, and, gradually
getting within close range, fired, lying down, volley after volley
into the disconcerted rebels, whose centre seemed to be on the move.
Meanwhile our left flank was overlapped, and the beggars were trying
to get round our left rear into our camp. Off went the left squadron,
supported by the other two guns, with our Marines and Sikhs, and mowed
them down beautifully. By 1 P.M. the rebels had enough of it, and began
to retire in earnest. Our fellows then all along the line took up one
continued cheer, and rushed them. This was too much for the enemy, who
for a time made off completely. They took up a fresh position some four
miles farther on, where there was a village with a large tope of trees;
but they did not remain long. We drove them out.
It was now about 2 P.M., and our fellows were clean done up by the
great heat. The General ordered a halt. The enemy gradually retired in
all directions from our front; and, beyond a few stray shots from their
artillery while we were resting in the shade, the fight was virtually
over.
I had a good deal of galloping about all that morning. No sooner was
I back from one order than off I was sent on some other errand. It
was most interesting work. I had constantly to cross some part of
the plain where the fire was raging hot. In went my spurs on these
occasions. I could generally see the round shot coming. One of them
came ricochetting straight at me. Luckily, I was crossing a bit of
ploughed or soft land. The shot actually finished its last bound under
my horse’s legs without touching them. Once or twice I found some of
our native troops hanging back under shelter of old walls, the ruins of
some old village. This so annoyed me that, finding strong language of
no avail, I used the flat of my sword on more than one man’s back. My
Chief was very calm all that morning; but I could see very plainly that
he was anxious as to results. On my returning from my message he was
very impatient to know if the orders were being carried out. He had two
other gallopers that day, and they too were hard at it.
We took seven guns: one an 18-pounder, three brass 9-pounders, and
others of smaller calibre.
Here it was that a very good messmate of mine, Fowler, was killed by
a round shot; not half a minute before he had passed me and said, “I
say, old Victor, look at this,” showing me where a grape shot had gone
through the bottom of his trousers. This was a sad loss to us all.
That night I helped to dress him in clean white clothes, and we laid
him in his last resting-place. Our casualties were astonishingly few.
I attribute this to the thinness of our line and the wretched shooting
of the enemy. The hostile force were large enough to eat us had they
had any system of fighting; but, I suppose, they thought that their
great masses would frighten us clean away. The incident showed what
method and discipline can do against a mob. Many of the Sepoy regiments
had come from Oude. There they had been thoroughly thrashed; and they
fought us that day with their tails between their legs.
The action had a marvellous effect. It saved the Gorruckpore district
from a second rebellion. Before attacking, the rebels had issued
a proclamation that they had come to annihilate us, to liberate
Gorruckpore from the Englishmen, and to drive us out of the district.
Our spies told us that they never thought our small force would show
front for an instant. It was expected that we should retire, and,
consequently, the enemy made no preparations to manœuvre.
We had many narrow squeaks that morning. A shell burst close under the
head of the Brigadier’s horse; yet he was not touched. I had hold of
the branch of a tree, clearing it from my head, when a round shot cut
it off just above me.
After the fight we marched back to camp much fatigued; but we did not
enter our entrenchments. We felt comparatively safe. We knew that the
horde of rebels had lost all courage and were in despair. Many gave up
fighting and left for their homes. The loss was estimated at 700 killed
and wounded.
Next day we had a General Thanksgiving Service for our victory, and
very impressive it was.
From the 5th until the 23rd of March we remained at Amorrah and
fortified the village. We had one or two alarms that the enemy were
coming down upon us; but they were false. A royal salute was fired in
honour of the victories at Lucknow, and a parade of the whole force
was ordered to hear read out a despatch from the Commander-in-Chief
appreciating our services.
We now went into cantonment at Bustee, and huts were built to shelter
us from the sun and the rains during the hot season now advancing. Our
force was gradually augmented by the arrival of the 13th Light Infantry
under the command of Lord Mark Kerr. A splendid regiment it was, over
1300 strong. Later, some Madras cavalry and a Sikh regiment under the
celebrated Colonel Brazier arrived; and these cantonments served as our
head-quarters until the following November, when we once again took the
field. A story was told me of this celebrated Colonel. At the beginning
of the Mutiny, it was supposed that the Sikhs were rather wavering in
their allegiance, and that his regiment, though most ably commanded,
and under perfect discipline, might possibly follow suit. This the
Colonel was told. However, one day, while he was writing in his tent,
a fanatic rushed in and exclaimed, “Bolt for your life, Colonel: your
regiment is about to mutiny.” Brazier thereupon seized his revolver,
saying, “If my regiment is to mutiny you shall be the first to suffer
for it,” and then shot him on the spot. It was said that this summary
proceeding stopped a mutiny which was imminent in this regiment--that
what the fanatic had told him was quite true.
During the seven months at Bustee we were constantly sending out flying
columns, and otherwise giving the rebels no peace when they congregated
in the district which we were protecting. Sometimes the fighting was
at close quarters for a brief period; but generally the rebels did not
stand longer than they could help. It was harassing work, and kept our
force employed a good deal.
Cricket matches were got up. Also, we had a theatre, and amused
ourselves as best we could, when not out on detachment service, during
those long months. The heat was very great, and during the rainy
season our men suffered a good deal from fever. I was down with it
for six weeks. It took a very malignant mode with me: in fact, it was
touch-and-go with me for some days. I lived on quinine and jack fruit.
Towards November the weather became cooler, and preparations were made
to leave our cantonments and once again take the field under tents. The
change of scene and of work was very welcome.
We left our cantonment on the 16th of November, and advanced in a
north-west direction to the frontiers of Nepaul. From that date until
the 23rd of December we were gradually driving the rebels before us.
There was a smart encounter at a place called Domerigunge, where we
drove the rebels across the Rapti River. We crossed a few days after by
a bridge of boats. In the action near the Rapti River we got well among
them, and in their flight across the river a good many of them were
drowned. The Bengal Yeomanry Cavalry paid them off well in a charge,
but, unfortunately, lost an able officer, Captain Giffard, who fell at
the head of his troop. Once over the Rapti, we heard that the rebels
had made preparations for a great stand at a place called Toolsepore,
not far from the Terai Jungle. We were now within sight of the Himalaya
Mountains, and the distant scenery was magnificent--a relief after the
plains we had been marching through all these months.
We arrived in the vicinity of Toolsepore on the 20th of December,
and on the 23rd we had our last fight. It was supposed that to take
Toolsepore would be a big business. It was said to be a very strong
position. Consequently, a siege train was sent for to batter down
the forts. Part of the Naval Brigade had to take charge of the guns,
three 18-pounders and some mortars. Our force on the eve of the attack
consisted of 2180 infantry, 400 cavalry, 12 field guns, and the siege
train. To us, long accustomed to fighting with handfuls of men, this
appeared quite an imposing force.
We could see the enemy’s position in the distance, and clearly make out
large forts and batteries and a very extensive camp. I believe that
that was their last dying effort in our part of India. All the other
field forces were gradually converging and closing in the rebels, who
could now only surrender or retreat into the Terai Jungle and cross the
Nepaul frontier; which Jung Bahadour, it was said, would oppose. We
were now within touch of Sir Hope Grant’s columns; and, two days before
the action at Toolsepore, he sent us a wing of the 53rd Regiment, about
580 strong, with two guns of Welch’s battery.
In the evening before our fight I rode down to the outlying pickets
to have a look-round, and was much interested in watching the Sepoys’
pickets and sentries, and the little knots of cavalry patrolling about.
Now and then a bullet fired from a distance would fly past me, and, as
I was only an amateur, I did not remain long to hear more.
Next morning at nine our little army crossed a small fordable river,
the Bulli Rapti. I was galloping about all the morning to the various
corps, with messages sent by my Chief. About ten the troops had all
got into position, and the usual advance of an extended line about
one-and-a-half mile long, with guns in centre, was begun. The enemy
came out from their forts, and formed up in three separate columns.
Thus, when we got within range of artillery (about eleven o’clock) we
had to manœuvre so as to make three separate attacks on the formations.
The action was fought on a vast plain.
Skirmishers were blazing away. In fact, a general action had begun. The
Brigadier, seeing that the 13th were rather in rear of their proper
position, sent me off a mile gallop with orders to them to advance more
quickly. I found the 13th in a broken bad piece of ground intercepted
with nullahs. Lord Mark Kerr, marching his regiment in open column
of companies, was very much put out by the men not preserving their
wheeling distance. In fact, he was having a sort of field day on his
own account. On my venturing to repeat the orders he became very wroth.
Still, it was amusing to see him riding hatless with a white umbrella
over his head (which was his wont), and giving his orders as if he were
on a parade-ground instead of on a battle-field.
My message to his Lordship was that he should lose no time in
advancing, and should keep his alignment. As we advanced the rebels
fell back, and for a time they sheltered themselves in their
entrenchments. This being just what my Chief wanted and expected them
to do, cavalry and some infantry were immediately sent round their
flank, to attack them in the rear and to cut off their retreat should
they bolt. The siege train of heavy guns, drawn by elephants, was now
moved up and opened fire on the forts. By 4 P.M. we had carried the
fort and the villages. There was a chase until seven o’clock, and the
cavalry were very effective during the flight of the natives. It was
wonderful how soon the rebels got away. They were marvels at running
when once off: nothing but horse artillery and cavalry could come
up with them. Many hid themselves away in the high-standing crops,
villages, out-houses: in fact, they scattered all over the country.
That night we bivouacked outside the enemy’s fort and entrenchments.
Just before dusk I rode in to see what they were like. It was certainly
a very strong position; but the dirt was so abominable that I could
not stay long. They had evidently been there some time: anybody who
knew India in the Mutiny days will well understand what I mean. Several
of the enemy’s guns that day were carried at the point of the bayonet
(generally by our skirmishers), and we routed them completely.
Next day the troops rested.
On Christmas Day, as we were well into our dinner, and what might be
called enjoying ourselves, Sir Hope Grant rode into camp about 4 P.M.
and ordered us to make a forced march immediately, so as to follow up
the rebels, who were trying to escape to the eastwards. What a nuisance
we voted this grand soldier, as he stood there with a fine escort of
cavalry (Lancers) giving his orders to our General! I heard him say,
“Off at once! Dinner or no dinner, we must cut these rebels off.”
There, on the spot, the bugles were sounded; down came our tents; and
what became of our stewed kid and other little delicacies we had taken
so much trouble to get hold of I don’t know. I was on my horse in no
time and sent galloping about with instructions.
Marching until well into the night straight across country (the roads
being blocked with mud, owing to heavy rains), we halted, and curled
ourselves up as best we could on the ground until daylight. I lay down
in a ploughed field that night: no baggage or tents had come up. The
soil was soft at first; but I soon made a large form, which became as
hard as a brick bat; and I woke up aching all over. For three days we
saw neither tents nor baggage. We were simply following up the rebels,
who were now making for the great Terai Jungle. Arriving at Intwa on
the 28th, we found Sir Hope Grant with a troop of horse artillery,
the 9th Lancers, and Hodson’s Horse. What joy to see horse artillery
and that splendid cavalry! The 9th looked nearly as well as if they
had been at Aldershot; so did the horse artillery; and that splendid
regiment, Hodson’s Horse, was indeed a sight.
For two or three days our force and Sir Hope’s marched in parallel
columns. Only once did we come across rebels. That was at the edge of
the Terai, where we took them completely by surprise, and actually
found their pots on the fire, cooking. This was about the last shot the
Brigade saw fired. On the 3rd of January 1859 we had done our share in
quelling the Mutiny, and received orders to return to our ship _viâ_
Allahabad. All our part of the country was freed from rebels: at any
rate, there was no chance of their congregating again.