Part 6

The Lord of the White Elephant now determined to call down from the mountains of Arracan his prime favourite, and to carry off the Governor-General in golden chains. Bandula obeyed the call, and led his reinforced army from the mountains of Arracan to the Irawaddi river. He had begun his march about the end of August, at a season of the year when none but Burmese could have kept the field for a week, much less have attempted to pass the unhealthy jungles and the pestilential marshes of the country. The distance, by the shortest route, was more than 200 miles; but Bandula, gathering fresh forces in the latter part of his long march, reached Donoopew before Sir Archibald Campbell knew that he had left Arracan. Happily, our troops, though woefully reduced in numbers, were now fast recovering their health and strength; and two fresh British regiments, some battalions of native infantry, a regiment of cavalry, and a troop of horse artillery arrived from Calcutta and Madras, together with some admirable trotting cattle of the true Mysore breed. Five hundred native boatmen came round from Chittagong, and were busily employed in preparing boats for river service.

The rains had now ceased at Rangoon; and Sir Archibald Campbell, strongly reinforced, was completing his preparations for the ascent of the Irawaddi, and for an attack upon Prome, when he learned that Bandula had reached Donoopew with 60,000 fighting men, a considerable train of artillery, and a body of Cassay horse, the best cavalry in this part of Asia. Bandula's musketeers were estimated at 35,000 men. Other numerous bodies were armed with gingals, which carried an iron ball of from six to twelve ounces, and were mounted on a light carriage easily dragged about by two men; and great numbers were attached to the guns which were transported on the backs of elephants. The rest of the host were armed with swords and spears, and scattered through the army were more of the "Invulnerables" who had not yet tasted the sour grape of English guns, and who were amply provided with charms, spells, opium, bhang, and betel-nuts. As Bandula proclaimed on all sides his intention of riding at the head of his invincible army, with horses and elephants and all manner of warlike stores, to capture and destroy the British at Rangoon, it was deemed proper to wait for him there with a view to a decisive battle.

The enemy came down to the neighbourhood of Rangoon in boats. Our posts, consisting of redoubts and fortified pagodas, were speedily constructed, connecting the great Golden Dagon Pagoda by two distinct lines with Rangoon and the river, and leaving a disposable force for moving to the support of any point that might require such support. The post at Kemmendine was also strongly occupied, and was supported on the river by his Majesty's sloop _Sophie_, Captain Ryves, a Company's cruiser, and a strong division of gunboats.

On November 30th Bandula's great army assembled in and behind the dense forest; and his line, extending from the river above Kemmendine in a semicircular direction towards Puzendown, might be distinguished by a curved line of smoke rising above the trees. During the ensuing night the low, continuous murmur and hum of voices proceeding from the enemy's encampment suddenly ceased, and were speedily succeeded by the distant but gradually approaching sounds of a multitude in slow and stealthy movement through the woods. Our troops soon became aware that the enemy's masses had approached to the very edge of the jungle, within musket-shot of the pagoda, apparently in readiness to rush from their cover to the assault at the break of day.

The day had scarcely dawned on December 1st when hostilities commenced with a heavy fire of musketry and cannon at Kemmendine, the reduction of that place being a preliminary to any general attack upon our line. The firing continued long and brisk, and from their commanding situation at the Great Pagoda, though nearly two miles distant from the scene of action, our men could distinctly hear the yells and shouts of the infuriated assailants, occasionally returned by the hearty cheer of the British seamen as they poured in their heavy broadsides upon the resolute and persevering masses. The thick forest which separated us from the river shut out all sight of what was going forward; and, when the firing ceased, we remained. There was a short period of anxiety, though little doubt as to the result of the long and spirited assault. At length, however, the thick canopy of smoke which lowered over the fierce and sanguinary conflict gradually dissolved, and there could be seen the masts of the vessels lying at their old station off the fort--a convincing proof that all had ended well on that side.

Meanwhile the enemy had been seen on the west side of the river, marching across the plains of Dalla towards Rangoon. They were formed in five or six different divisions, and moved with great regularity, led by numerous chiefs on horse-back--their gilt umbrellas glittering in the rays of the sun--with a sufficiently formidable and imposing effect. Opposite Rangoon the leading column of five or six Burmese divisions began entrenching and throwing up batteries, while their main body was stockading in the jungle. In the course of the day several heavy columns issued from the forest, and successively took up their ground along a woody ridge, gently sloping towards Rangoon. Here they commenced operations with their entrenching tools, and with such activity and good will that in the course of a couple of hours their whole line was covered; their flags and banners, which had been flying in profusion, all disappeared, and nothing was seen but a parapet of fresh-turned earth, gradually increasing in height. The moving masses, which had so very lately attracted anxious attention, had sunk into the ground; and, by anyone who had not witnessed the whole scene, the existence of these subterranean legions would not have been credited. The occasional movement of a chief with his gilt umbrella from place to place, superintending the progress of their labour, was the only thing that now attracted notice. By a distant observer the hills, covered with mounds of earth, would have been taken for anything rather than the approaches of an attacking army. Even to those who had watched the whole strange proceeding, it seemed the work of magic or enchantment. But, thus working like moles in the earth, the Burmese could no more see than they could be seen; and, in the afternoon, Major Sale, with his Majesty's 13th Regiment and a regiment of Madras Native Infantry, moving rapidly forward upon the busily employed and too confident enemy, fell upon them before they were well aware of the visit, and drove the whole line from their earthworks with considerable loss.

These Burmese trenches were found to be a succession of holes, capable of containing two men each, and excavated so as to afford shelter both from the weather and the fire of any enemy; even a shell lighting in the trench could at most kill but two men. As it was not the Burmese system to relieve their troops in making these approaches, each hole contained a sufficient supply of rice, water, and even fuel for its inmates; and under the excavated bank a bed of straw or brushwood was prepared, in which one man could sleep while his comrade watched. When one line of trench was completed, its occupiers, taking advantage of the night, would push forward to where the second line was to be opened, their places being immediately taken up by fresh troops from the rear, and so on, progressively. The Burmese understood this art of warfare, but our men--especially our Native Infantry--also understood that art, and the enemy's weaknesses as well.

Attacks were made on Kemmendine that day and were all repulsed by our troops or by the seamen of our little flotilla. But it was not until night that the Burmese made their last desperate effort to open their way down the river, and so get possession of the port of Rangoon. The soldiers had lain down to rest, when suddenly the heavens and the whole surrounding country became brilliantly illuminated. The enemy had launched their fire-rafts into the stream with the first of the ebb-tide, and had now applied the match to those huge masses of combustible materials, in the hope of driving the _Sophie_ and our other vessels from their stations off Kemmendine; and as these fire-rafts came down, it was seen by the light of their flames that they were followed by a vast fleet of war-boats, whose crew were ready to take advantage of the confusion which might ensue if any of our vessels should be set on fire. As the rafts floated rapidly down to Kemmendine with the ebbing tide, columns of attack moved once more by land against that well-defended post, with artillery, gingals, and musketry.

But the skill and intrepidity of British seamen proved more than a match for the numbers and devices of the Burmese; after gazing for a while at the red, blue, yellow and green flames of the mighty fireworks, our sailors leapt into their boats, pushed off to meet the flaming rafts, secured them with their grappling irons, and conducted them safely past our shipping or ran them ashore to finish their short but vivid life of fire and flame upon the river bank without injury to anyone. If these fire-rafts could have reached the harbour of Rangoon, which was now crowded with transports and vessels of all kinds, the effect might have been very tragic; but the British tars said that none should pass Kemmendine Point, and none did pass. Kemmendine, where the river makes a sudden turn, was the only point from which the rafts could have been launched with effect. Fully aware of this, Bandula ordered attack upon attack to be made, and for seven days no rest by night or by day was allowed to our troops or to our seamen there. But every effort of the enemy failed--even their land attack on Kemmendine.

On December 5th, when the stores of the Burmese left wing were brought forward from the jungle to their foremost entrenchment in front of Rangoon, and were fairly within our reach, Sir Archibald Campbell ordered a decisive attack to be made upon their army. Major Sale, with one column 800 strong, and a troop of British dragoons, who had only been landed the preceding day, was directed to fall upon their centre; and Major Walker, with 500 men, was sent to make a vigorous attack on their left wing. The operations of these two columns of troops were greatly facilitated by Captain Chads of the navy, who proceeded up the Creek to a point within gunshot of the rear of the enemy's line, with the man-of-war boats and a part of the flotilla, and began a heavy cannonade which distracted the attention of the Burmese and prevented their strengthening their front. Our two columns broke through the entrenchments, and completely routed both the centre and the left with vigorous bayonet charges; but Major Walker and a good many of his gallant comrades fell. The loss of the Burmese was appalling; they were driven from every part of their works into the jungle, leaving the ground behind them covered with dead and wounded, with all their guns, entrenching tools, gilt umbrellas, and a great number of small arms. On December 6th, Bandula tried to rally his defeated troops, and with some success. On the 7th the Burmese made their last and grand attack on the Great Pagoda, but they were beaten, driven back to their entrenchments by the British bayonet, and finally into the depths of the jungle.

Our troops at that post, worn out by seven days and nights of incessant fighting and watching, could not pursue the flying enemy, who left in the trenches a great number of dead--nearly all stout, tall, athletic fellows, who might almost have measured with English grenadiers, and who had evidently belonged to the flower of Bandula's army. During these seven busy and fiery days the Burmese, in addition to a prodigious loss of life, had lost every gun and their entire stores. The survivors fled towards Donoopew, but they were stopped in their flight by some great and terrible chiefs, who had been sent down with numerous reinforcements, and they rallied at Kokeen, about four miles beyond the Great Pagoda.

It is said that when Bandula counted his forces he found them reduced from more than 60,000 fighting men to less than 25,000. Nevertheless, this favourite of the Lord of the White Elephant was allowed to retain the chief command. His first move was to entrench and stockade himself at Kokeen, after which he employed incendiaries to burn the invaders out of Rangoon, and destroy all their stores and powder magazines. On the night of December 12th the cry of fire resounded through the town of Rangoon, and nearly the whole of that flimsy, bamboo-built place seemed to be immediately in a blaze. The incendiaries had placed their matches in various parts of the town, and had set fire to them all the same moment. One half of the town was burned; but the flames were prevented from reaching our depot of stores and ammunition. This attempt, which was very nearly successful, brought down a rapid attack upon Bandula's new position, and defeat and ruin upon himself. On December 15th--three days after the midnight fire at Rangoon--1,500 British troops and sepoys, unaided by artillery, under the command of Brigadier-General Willoughby Cotton, drove Bandula and his mighty host from all their entrenchments and stockades at Kokeen, and strewed the position with his dead in thousands.

BHURTPORE

(1826)

If any fortress in India could have been with good reason called impregnable, that fortress was Bhurtpore. In the early years of the nineteenth century the chiefs and rajahs of Hindustan were wont to say, "Yes, you may bully us, but go and take Bhurtpore!" Their belief in its impregnability was well founded, for in 1805 Lord Lake had attacked it vigorously, but had failed to reduce its well-fortified works manned by staunch and numerous defenders. After suffering terrible losses he was compelled to withdraw, leaving this Jat fortress with a still stronger claim to impregnability than it had ever possessed before.

When it was once decided by the British Government that Bhurtpore must fall, the question immediately arose, where was the man to take it? The East India Company Directors interviewed the Duke of Wellington, asking him to find a man capable of taking this fortress. The Duke gave them an answer. He said, "You can't do better than have Lord Combermere. He's the man to take Bhurtpore." "But," replied the directors with great surprise, "we thought that your Grace had not a very high opinion of Lord Combermere, and did not consider him a man of genius." "I don't care a tuppenny damn" (that was the Iron Duke's favourite par of exchange in hot words) "about his genius. _I tell you he is the man to take Bhurtpore!_" And the Duke was right.

There were 25,000 men in the Bhurtpore garrison, and they represented the most warlike races of India. When Lord Combermere set out with Bhurtpore as his objective, his army consisted of 30,000 men of very mixed quality. On reaching the fortress he began with heavy bombardment. Then for a week he carried forward his siege works, covered by Gurkha sharpshooters, whose eyes were so keen and whose aim so sure that no man of the enemy could show his head above the ramparts with impunity.

Point after point was won until, at last, a small breach was made by the artillery; and into this breach Lord Combermere flung a force in which were included 600 dismounted men from the various cavalry regiments--eighty from the 11th Light Dragoons, eighty from the 16th Lancers, 200 from Skinner's Horse, and forty from each regiment of native cavalry.

Skinner's Horse is one of the earliest formed of the many distinguished Native Irregular Cavalry Corps which have fought for Britain. They had been under Colonel Skinner for many years, and had served him in many wars; thus they had come to respect and love him as tribesmen do their chief. There is a touching story of their valour and faithfulness during the storming of Bhurtpore. A party was told off according to rota duty, for the whole regiment had volunteered for the dangerous service. Skinner placed at their head Shadull Khan, one of his oldest, most faithful, and trustworthy native officers. Then he spoke to them as follows: "This is the first time you are going into danger when I cannot accompany you; but such is my affection for you all that I cannot allow you to part from me without carrying with you something dear to me." Then, taking his son by the hand--the lad had only lately entered the corps--he continued: "See, here is my son. Take him and gain for him such honour as you have won for his father."

This shows clearly what Colonel Skinner thought of Skinner's Horse, and also what he knew they thought of him. Old Shadull Khan stepped forward, and, taking young Skinner by the arm, cried out, "Farewell, our commander! Trust in God, who never deserts those faithful servants who do their duty and who, please God, will now do their utmost to maintain the honour of the corps."

Although the assault on the breach had been planned, it was postponed for that day, as on further consideration Lord Combermere deemed it was not practicable. It took place later, after a great explosion of mines which the engineers had placed beneath the ramparts. On entering the widened breach our troops encountered fierce opposition. There was a hand-to-hand fight of the most desperate description, and it was not until after some hours of fierce fighting that the enemy surrendered.

The Iron Duke's words were justified; Lord Combermere had taken Bhurtpore, and that successful assault on a fortress long regarded as impregnable was one which yields in brilliancy and courage to few in the British annals of war. Its beneficial effect on British rule and influence in India was as striking as its place among battles is dramatic.

THE WAR IN SCINDE

(Meeanee, 1843)

"Let there be sixty or a hundred thousand," said Sir Charles Napier, "I will fight."

This was when he moved away from the banks of the Indus and found that an overwhelming force of the enemy was massing in his rear, while another large force held Meeanee in his front. In the spirit of his words he pushed forward with 2,600 of all arms, including officers fit for duty in the field, and the result was the important battle of Meeanee.

The positions of the Baluchis were formidable. In the first place they had a natural ravine in their front. Again, they had 5,000 cavalry and more than 30,000 infantry, with fifteen guns. Their wings rested on dense woods which extended on each side of the plain in front for a considerable distance, so as to flank the British lines on both sides when it should advance. But, in no mood to be intimidated by these natural advantages of the enemy, Sir Charles Napier and his little force fell impetuously on him by the front. The fighting which ensued was terrific. Our men gradually forced their way across the level plain, swept as it was by the Baluchi cannon and matchlocks, and finally crossed the ravine and began the ascent of the high, sloping bank beyond.

With matchlocks laid ready in rest along the summit, the Baluchis waited until the assailants were within twenty yards before they discharged a volley. But the active British offered an uncertain mark, and this, combined with the steepness of the declivity, accounted for the inconsiderable result of their fire.

Now the 22nd (the Cheshire Regiment) were on the top of the bank, thinking to bear down all before them, but "they staggered back in amazement at the forest of swords waving in their front. Thick as standing corn, and gorgeous as a field of flowers, stood the Baluchis in their many-coloured garments and turbans; they filled the broad, deep bed of the ravine, they clustered on both banks, and covered the plain beyond. Guarding their heads with their large dark shields, they shook their sharp swords, beaming in the sun, their shouts rolling like a peal of thunder, as with frantic gestures they dashed forward with demoniac strength and ferocity full against the front of the 22nd. But with shouts as loud, and shrieks as wild and fierce as theirs, and hearts as big, and arms as strong, the Irish soldiers met them with the queen of weapons--the musket--and sent their foremost masses rolling back in blood."

The Baluchis closed their dense masses, and again the shouts, the rolling fire of musketry, and the dreadful rush of their swordsmen were heard and seen along the whole line; and such a fight ensued as has seldom been recorded in the annals of war. These wild warriors continually advanced, sword and shield in hand, striving in all the fierceness of their valour to break into the opposing ranks; no fire of small-arms, no thrust of bayonets, no sweeping discharges of grape from the guns, which were planted in one fearful mass on the right, could drive the gallant soldiers back; they gave their breasts to be shot at, they leaped upon the guns by twenties at a time; their dead went down the slope by hundreds, but the gaps in their masses were continually filled up from the rear; the survivors of the front rank still pressed forward with unabated fury, and the bayonet and the sword clashed in full and frequent conflict.

Our loss in officers was heavy, and our native troops, deprived of leaders though not of gallantry, were several times forced into rearguard action; but at a given moment a charge made on the enemy's right by our entire but small body of horse, under the command of Colonel Pattle, won the day. The Baluchis had kept their ground for more than three hours, but now they began to retreat in masses, still keeping well together, with their broad shields slung over their backs and their heads half turned towards their pursuers. The victors followed closely, pouring in volley after volley, until tired of slaughtering. "Yet," says Napier, "those stern, implacable warriors preserved their habitual swinging stride, and would not quicken it to a run, though death was at their heels."

In this conflict our officers and men, together with our native troops, showed the greatest courage. The chief part of the battle was a hand-to-hand fight. "The noble soldier Pennefather," as Sir Charles Napier admiringly called him, fell on the top of the bank, to all appearance mortally wounded, and his place was instantly taken by Major Pool. Major Teesdale, followed by his sepoys, rode desperately over the ridge into the midst of the Baluchis, and was instantly killed by shot and sabre. Major Jackson followed the heroic example of Teesdale, and met the same fate. Two brave havildars kept close to them in advance of their regiment, and, like their leaders, they were also killed, but not until they had slain several of the fiercest of the enemy. Lieutenant M'Murdogh, of the General's staff, rode, like Teesdale and Jackson, into the very heart of the Baluchi mass; his horse was killed under him, yet he rose instantly, and meeting Jehan Mohabad, one of the most warlike of the chiefs, slew him in the midst of his clan. Then, while engaged with several in front, one came behind and struck at him, but a sergeant of the 22nd killed that enemy so instantly that his blow fell harmless.