Part 3

Under these "Mayors of the Palace" the Mahratta power reached its zenith. Satara was their original capital, but there were powerful Mahratta governments established at Poona, Gwalior, Nagpur, Indore, and Baroda; and, towards the close of the eighteenth century, they started on a career of conquest which made them masters of India from Delhi to Cape Comorin--a career which was only checked by the rising power of the British.

"WILD MAHRATTA BATTLE"

At the time that the Mahratta Dominion was at its zenith in India, it came into clash with the ever-widening rule of the British. In 1803 the Mahratta Dominion extended from Hyderabad to Mysore as far as Delhi. In addition to this its dependencies and territorial possessions in India were far greater than those of the British.

The second Mahratta War was declared in August, 1803, and General Lake marched on Delhi. The British forces consisted of about 22,000 men in two equal divisions, one under Lake and the other under Wellesley, but the Mahrattas outnumbered this little force by seven to one.

The first event of the war was the attack on the fortress of Aligati by Lake. Here our men had a foretaste of the nature of "wild Mahratta battle" and of the terrible valour of the enemy. History records that the Mahrattas "fought like lions," and it was not until 2,000 of their number were slain that they finally surrendered. During the following week came the fall of Delhi, after a most determined conflict raged in sight of its minarets--a conflict in which the enemy lost 3,000 killed and wounded and 68 guns. A month later the famous stronghold of Agra was taken. This was an important victory, as in those days Agra was practically the key to Northern India.

In this campaign it was fully recognised that the Mahrattas were men of good fighting quality. At the battle of Leswarree, when Lake was outnumbered and forced to retire to wait for his infantry and guns to come up, the prowess of the Mahrattas came as a surprise to him. When some reinforcements arrived he attacked again with still greater determination. On this occasion his horse was shot under him, and his son, dismounting to offer his own horse, was severely wounded. At the same moment, Lake, turning as his son fell, felt a shot pass between his arm and his chest, which, if he had not moved, would have found its way through his heart. But Lake was a man of cool judgment and imperturbable courage. Mounting his son's horse, he surveyed the field of battle and quickly made up his mind to decide matters by the bayonet. Our troops greeted the word of command with a hearty cheer, and immediately the 76th, admirably supported by the Native Infantry Corps, swept down upon the enemy in a furious charge. But Lake's generalship was matched by that of the Mahratta Chief, who instantly ordered his cavalry to charge. It was a tense moment, and it was rendered dramatic by the sudden appearance of the British Dragoons galloping to the relief. "Horse and foot," says a historian, "met in one great shock of battle; sabre rang out against bayonet and musket flashed against pistol and carbine. A short period of indescribable _mêlée_ ensued, in which the fate of the day was decided."

The Mahrattas were defeated. They were a foe as worthy in those days of our steel as they are now, our comrades-in-arms, worthy of the Empire they defend.

Meanwhile Wellesley in the south was trying conclusions with Madhi Scindia and the Rajah of Madhpur. In conjunction with Col. Stevenson he had 7,000 men, who chased Scindia for three weeks, the wily chief having decided to fight on chosen ground. At length, on September 23rd, 1803, Wellesley, after a fatiguing march, reached the bank of the Kaitna River. He was waiting for Col. Stevenson, with whom he had prearranged a plan, but when he discovered that the enemy was in camp on the other side of the river, he concluded that his chance of bringing Scindia to action was "now or never." Accordingly he resolved not to wait for Stevenson, but to attack at once. This was a daring decision, for Scindia's forces numbered 17,000 foot, of whom 10,500 were highly disciplined infantry; and his artillery, consisting of the regular equipment supplemented by 115 guns, was far stronger than that of the British. In addition to this his Mahratta Horse numbered about 30,000. The little British army that was getting ready to defeat this gigantic force numbered 4,520 men, of whom 1,170 (74th and 78th Regiments) were British Infantry, 2,000 Native Infantry, 1,200 Cavalry, and 150 Artillery. The Mahrattas saw this piece of audacity and stood awhile in amazement, but, wise in their generation, they forbore to call the force opposing them "contemptible." When the rest of the world came to have something to say about it, Wellesley simply remarked: "But had I not attacked them I must have been surrounded by their superior cavalry, my troops had starved and I had nothing left but to hang myself to my tent-pole." But it may be justly contended that it was not wholly a case of Hobson's choice, for Wellesley, like Nelson, knew when to be rash and how to be rash, and it might have been said of him, in the words of the French Admiral about Nelson, that his genius lay in the fact that he could rightly estimate every weakness of his enemy.

The battle which followed was of a terrible and terrific nature, but it ended eventually in a glorious victory for the British. From first to last, Wellesley, having conspired with the luck of war, left no single point to the luck of chance.

From an elevated plain he could see the whole Mahratta force encamped on the north side of the Kaitna, where the banks of that river were very steep. Their right, consisting of cavalry, extended to Bokerdon; their left, consisting of infantry, with ninety pieces of artillery, lay near the village of Assaye, which has given its name to the memorable battle.

Wellesley resolved to attack the infantry on its left and rear, and for that purpose he moved his little army to a ford beyond the enemy's left, leaving the Mysore and other irregular cavalry to watch the Mahratta cavalry, and crossing the river only with his regular horse and infantry. He passed the ford, ascended the steep bank, and formed his men in three lines--two of infantry, and the third of horse. This was effected under a brisk cannonade from the enemy's artillery. Scindia, or the European officer who directed his movements, promptly made a corresponding change in his line, giving a new front to his infantry, which was now made to rest its right on the river and its left upon the village of Assaye and the Juah stream, which flowed in a parallel direction with the Kaitna. Scindia's numerous and well-served cannon did terrible execution among Wellesley's advancing lines, killing men and bullocks, and drowning the weak sound of his scanty artillery. At one moment such a gap was made by cannon-ball in the English right that some of the Mahratta cavalry attempted to charge through it; but the British cavalry in the third line came up and drove the Mahrattas back with great slaughter. Finding his artillery of little or no use (the guns could not be brought up for lack of bullocks), Wellesley gave orders to leave it in the rear, and bade the infantry charge with the bayonet.

His steady, resolute advance in the teeth of their guns had already awed the Mahrattas, who would not stand to meet the collision of the English steel: their infantry gave way, and abandoned the guns. One body of them formed again, and presented a bold front; but Lieutenant-Colonel Maxwell charged them with the British cavalry, broke and dispersed them, and was killed in the moment of victory. Wellesley's Sepoys having proceeded too far in pursuit, many of Scindia's artillerymen, who had thrown themselves down among the carriages of their guns as though they were dead, got to their feet again, and turned their pieces against the rear of the advancing Sepoys; and at the same time the Mahratta cavalry, which had been hovering round throughout the battle, were still near. But Maxwell's charge soon silenced the desultory artillery fire, and Scindia's disciplined infantry went off and left ninety pieces of cannon, nearly all brass and of the proper calibres, in the hands of the victors. Wellesley led the 78th British infantry in person against the village of Assaye, which was not cleared without a desperate combat.

Assaye cost Wellesley twenty-two officers and 386 men killed, and fifty-seven officers and 1,526 wounded. Excluding the regular cavalry which had remained on the other side of the river and had not been engaged, the total number of killed and wounded amounted to nearly one-third of his force. The general himself had two horses killed under him, one shot and the other piked; every one of his staff officers had one or two horses killed, and his orderly's head was swept off by a cannon-ball as he rode close by his side. The enemy, who had fled towards the Adjuntee Ghat, through which they had poured into the Dekhan, left 1,200 dead, and a great number badly wounded on the field of battle.

THE MAHRATTA COMPANY REGIMENTS, WITH THEIR BATTLE HONOURS

Although there are no Class Regiments composed wholly of Mahrattas, they form in Company Regiments the bulk of the following bodies of Infantry:--

103RD MAHRATTA LIGHT INFANTRY. Raised 1768.

4 companies Dekhani Mahrattas, 2 companies Konkani Mahrattas, 2 companies Dekhani Mussalmans.

BATTLE HONOURS.--"Mysore," "Seedaseer," "Seringapatam," "Beni Boo Alli," "Punjab," "Mooltan," "Goojerat," "Abyssinia."

UNIFORM.--_Scarlet_, facings _black_.

105TH MAHRATTA LIGHT INFANTRY. Raised 1788.

4 companies Dekhani Mahrattas, two companies Konkani Mahrattas, 2 companies Dekhani Mussalmans.

BATTLE HONOURS.--"Mysore," "Seedaseer," "Seringapatam," "Beni Boo Alli," "Kahun," "China 1860/62," "Afghanistan 1879/80," "Burma 1885/87."

UNIFORM.--_Scarlet_, facings _black_.

110TH MAHRATTA LIGHT INFANTRY. Raised 1797.

4 companies Dekhani Mahrattas, 2 companies Konkani Mahrattas, 2 companies Dekhani Mussalmans.

BATTLE HONOURS.--"Central India," "Abyssinia," "Afghanistan 1879/80."

UNIFORM.--_Scarlet_, facings _black_.

114TH MAHRATTA LIGHT INFANTRY.

4 companies Konkani Mahrattas, 2 companies Dekhani Mahrattas, 2 companies Dekhani Mussalmans.

UNIFORM.--_Scarlet_, facings _yellow_.

116TH MAHRATTA LIGHT INFANTRY. Raised 1800.

4 companies Konkani Mahrattas, 2 companies Dekhani Mahrattas, 2 companies Dekhani Mussalmans.

BATTLE HONOURS.--"Afghanistan 1879/80," "British East Africa 1901."

UNIFORM.--_Scarlet_, facings _yellow_.

117TH MAHRATTA LIGHT INFANTRY.

4 companies Konkani Mahrattas, 2 companies Dekhani Mahrattas, 2 companies Dekhani Mussalmans.

UNIFORM.--_Scarlet_, facings _yellow_.

There are companies of the Mahrattas also in the

107th Pioneers. 108th Infantry. 109th Infantry. 121st Pioneers. 128th Pioneers.

THE GURKHAS

The Gurkha is more closely a brother-in-arms to Tommy Atkins than is any other native soldier. These brave little men swell with pride--and their chest expansion is enormous--when they are referred to as the "Highlanders of India." Their eyes twinkle and their white teeth gleam in a smile of joy at this well-deserved honour bestowed upon them for many a valiant fight. To stand by the side of their big brothers of the Black Watch, the Seaforth, the Gordon, the Cameron, and the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders in glory and renown is their Nirvana of bliss; and now, in the greatest conflict of Europe, to fight, and if need be to die, in the same line with them for the great King-Emperor (the Padisha), in the defence of the world against tyranny and wrong, is absolutely the crowning moment in the history of this valiant little man of Nepal. As the Gurkha marches to-day to the tune of The Marseillaise, played on a weird collection of instruments approaching as nearly as possible to the bagpipes, his cheerful spirit is glad beyond words to be in line with the heroes who claim his special admiration, and his one thought is "Shall we fight side by side with the Gordons, as we did at Dargai, or with the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, or with the Seaforths?"

But behind his cheerful countenance and jaunty way of carrying himself lies a bulldog courage which, in turn, commands the admiration of his big brothers-in-arms--the British Highlanders. Those gleaming teeth are exposed in no kind of smile when he grips the deadly _kukri_ in a hand-to-hand encounter, and there is no twinkle in the fierce black eyes as he sets his face to the foe, with the cool determination "never to go back," which is a tradition of his race.

On this point, Lt.-Col. Newnham-Davis, writing in "Town Topics," declares that "The Gurkha is the most thorough little man I have ever met in campaigning; he will never go back. He tackles any job that is given him like a bulldog, and he is never beaten. In manoeuvres, as in action, one thing a Gurkha regiment will not do is to go back.

"I have seen the Chief Umpire and all his satellites vainly trying to explain to the native officers of a Gurkha company on manoeuvres that they were surrounded and outnumbered and out of action, and that they must therefore retire from the mimic fight. The Gurkhas grinned and stopped where they were, and it was only by sounding the 'cease fire' and telling the little men to get back and cook their dinners that the Chief Umpire moved them off the ground."

"In the spring," says the Colonel, writing on the Gurkha War, "the little Gurkhas--jovial little fellows, broad-chested and big-limbed, short in stature, with their Tartar eyes, noses like pugdogs, and great good-natured gashes for mouths--flock down to enlist in our regiments. Brave as lions, vain as peacocks, faithful as dogs, with few prejudices in peace and none in war, the Gurkhas are the special friends and companions of our men.

"The stately Sikh throws away his food if a white man's shadow falls upon it, and between the Mahomedan and the Christian is always the bar of religion, but on a campaign the Gurkha eats his food with as few formalities as Tommy Atkins drinks his wine, and is good company at the camp-fire."

The Gurkha has a merry wit and an equally happy conceit, as the following incident will show. After the assault on Bhurtpore, where the Gurkhas raced with the grenadiers of the 59th for the bridge, the British soldiers praised them for their bravery. They returned the compliment by the following characteristic remark: "The English are as brave as lions; they are splendid Sepoys, and _very nearly_ equal to us."

It may be seen from the above incident that the vanity of these little men is colossal. Indeed, it is only exceeded by their loyalty and gallantry, which can never be questioned, since Lord Roberts, the hero of Kabul, has accorded them the highest and warmest praise.

When Col. Younghusband, travelling in the Pamirs with an expedition of Gurkhas, met the great Russian explorer Gromschefski, a native officer of the Gurkhas asked leave to speak to Younghusband. "Tell him," he said, pointing to the big Russian, "that though _we_ are small men, all the rest of our regiment are taller than he is."

The only ritual the Gurkha observes is that he washes his hands and face and takes off his head-dress before cooking his meals. Any meat that chances to come the Gurkhas' way they call _shika_ (game). It is permitted by their religion to eat anything they have killed when hunting, but in their native land they prefer a kind of food made from rice. In the British service they take kindly but temperately to anything that the canteen supplies.

The Gurkhas were originally protectors of the cows, and this in India is a more or less Divine right. The Hindu regards the cow in the light of his mother, and frequently the beef-eating habit of the Sahib is pathetically reproached by the native in these terms: "What! would you eat your mother?" It may be permissible to stretch the derivation of their name in the present day and apply it to the fact that Britain is now their mother, and that they flocked westward to assist her in her great effort to uphold and ensure the integrity of the world.

The Gurkhas, or Gurkhalis, claim descent from the Ranas of Udaipur in Rajputana. Long ago, when they were driven out of their own country by the Mahomedan invasion, they sought refuge in the mountainous tracts about Kumaon. From this point they gradually began to invade the country to the eastward, as far as the city of Gurkha, Noakote, and ultimately the valley of Nepal, and even Sikkim. It was only when they attempted to force their way southwards that they were met and repulsed by the British. The Treaty of Seganli, which put an end to the Gurkha War of 1814, set a definite limit to their territorial expansion.

In general character the Gurkha is bold and self-reliant. On his gentler side, while extremely independent and self-centred, he is frank, faithful, and capable of fine, heroic loyalty. All his ideas of war and sport are modelled on European ideas. Though resembling in many ways the little Jap, he is built on far sturdier lines. As a humorist once remarked of his race: "They are 5 feet high in some places, and 5 feet round in others." Their movements in attack resemble lightning rapidity as nearly as anything human can. Essentially a phlegmatic race, they are supposed to lack sentiment and emotion, but education and touch with Western civilisation have proved to a great extent that these qualities were potential. In many ways they have been brought out as true sentiment and emotion of the steadier and more genuine kind. This fact, with their natural gaiety of disposition and their good-humoured carelessness of good or evil hap, is no doubt the reason that they make such fine soldiers. There is no grumbling on the part of the Gurkhas.

The Gurkha in battle is terrible, and almost weird in his methods. His ways are the ways of no other living soldier. And this brings us to a consideration of that remarkable weapon, the _kukri_. It is a heavy, curved knife, as sharp as a razor, and its drawing cut, inflicted with much skill and little force on anything in motion, has terrible effects. For instance, the intrepid Gurkha will wait for the tiger of the jungle to spring, and then, at the right moment, will step aside, leaving his deadly knife to follow the movement of his arm across the tiger's throat.

This wonderful knife, which the Gurkha loves as the British gunner loves his gun, has a small hilt, such as is common to all Indian swords. The blade is about nine inches long, and has a point as sharp as a needle. Both the hilt and the blade are curved, so that the weapon does equally well for the drawing cut or the thrust. Owing to the extreme thickness of the broad blade the weapon is remarkably heavy--a property devised obviously for the purpose of gaining the full force of inertia when the _kukri_ is wielded by the dexterous hand and wrist of the Gurkha. One authority on this weapon says that the weight of the razor-edged blade would drive it half through a man's arm if it were only allowed to fall from a little height. One can imagine, then, the terrible effect if used for the drawing cut of the broad-sword. In the Gurkha's experienced hand its sharp edge carves through both bone and sinew, proving it to be a weapon as formidable as can be conceived. The method of this little warrior with the _kukri_, then, may be described as an inhibition of force and an exhibition of skill, for by means of it he will quickly cut to pieces any man of gigantic strength and build who does not understand his mode of attack.

Many years ago, during the conquests on which we founded our Eastern Empire, our men frequently came into clash with the Gurkhas. In those days they were, as enemies, as formidable as they are to-day invaluable as brothers-in-arms. Here is a description of one battle incident in which we suffered severely at their hands: "Brave as lions, active as monkeys, fierce as tigers, the wiry little men came leaping over the ground to the attack, moving so quickly and keeping so far apart from each other that rifle fire was of little use against them. When they came near our soldiers they suddenly crouched and dived under the bayonets, striking upwards at our men with their _kukris_ and ripping them open with a single blow, then darting off as rapidly as they came." Until our men learnt this mode of attack they were greatly discomfited by their little opponents, who got under their weapons, cutting or slashing with knives as sharp as razors, and often escaping unhurt from the midst of the bayonets.

In all the history of invasion and conquests, of floating dynasties and mushroom empires in the East, the most sanguinary chapters deal with the British subjugation of the Gurkhas.

At a time when the Gurkhas were only some twelve thousand strong their reputation as fighters stood high. Many a time and oft had they raided neighbouring territory, carried off cattle, and even extorted tribute, so that at length the British authorities realised that there was only one course to take, and the message was sent to the bold Gurkha Chief: "Keep within your own territory or beware of the consequences." But this ultimatum was treated with scorn by the Gurkhas. Their haughty spirit could not brook such a demand. Hot blood seethed in their veins, and hot words were spoken at their council meetings. Their natural warlike spirit rose to the occasion and they declared war.

That war of 1813-14, and that conquest of a truly warlike race, form a record of one of the most heroic achievements of the British Army.

Nepal, the home of the Gurkhas, is situated on the slopes of the Himalayas. Its natural barricade on the north is a mighty line of peaks soaring against the sides of heaven up to the roof of the world, covered with everlasting snow. In front and to the south dense forests protect it from the approach of an invading host. Terrible were the difficulties and hardships of our men in these forests. Despair almost drove them back, while the prospect of utter failure seemed to stare them in the face. But, as if in a forlorn hope, our men went on, toiling and moiling towards the borders of Nepal; and, with the tenacity that saves every hopeless situation, gained at length the walls of Kalanga.

The fort held out for a long time, but fell at length, though not until the heroic garrison of six hundred had been reduced to seventy. It was here that brave General Gillespie fell as he was cheering his men forward to a fruitless attack. At the outset he had reckoned upon an easy conquest, but owing to the staunch resistance of the Gurkhas, reinforced by their natural advantages, he found the greatest difficulty.

There are many incidents recorded of the Gurkhas in this war, but perhaps the following is characteristic. When a party of our troops were searching for the enemy's outposts, they happened to fall in with a band of Gurkhas. The fierce little men raised a yell and produced their deadly _kukris_; then, after a brief consultation, their leader strode forward into the open and challenged the English officer in command to a settlement by single combat. His challenge was no sooner offered than it was accepted, and Captain Showers advanced to meet him. A short, sharp fight then took place on the plain separating the two opposing forces; steel met steel, and, after a quick passage, the Gurkha's blood ran crimson in the snow. He had met one who knew his methods.