by G. A. Henty
“He has so, Abdool, and that is one of the reasons why I do not feel so certain of his success as I did. He has never yet undertaken a siege, and his impetuosity and confidence in his troops may lead him to make an attack with insufficient numbers, and before it is really practicable. I do not think that this town is to be taken by storm, and I doubt whether Lord Lake will be content to wait for regular siege operations, before he tries an assault.
“Look over there, towards Agra. If I am not mistaken, there is a large body of cavalry out there. They are certainly not our men, they are too much mixed up for that. Possibly the rajah may have obtained the aid of a band of Pindarees, or of some other irregular troops; at any rate, it will give trouble to the convoy we left yesterday.”
He looked at the camp again.
“There is a stir in the valley, and it looks as if they had heard of that force out there, and are about to start to attack it.”
Three regiments of cavalry set out. As they were getting ready, two horsemen could be seen to ride off, at a gallop, from a group of trees half a mile from the camp. As soon as they approached the mass of horsemen in the distance, they turned and rode off at full speed.
“They have evidently no idea of fighting, today, whoever they are. We may as well go down again, Abdool. This is a grand lookout; and we shall, at any rate, get a general idea of the direction in which the attack will be made.”
Two days later they were able, from their lookout, to see that bodies of men came and went between the camp and a group of trees, halfway between it and the town.
“I expect that they are establishing a battery among those trees,” Harry said, “and it will not be long before the affair begins.”
The next morning, six eighteen-pounders opened fire from the wood and, in the afternoon, another battery of eight mortars began throwing shells into the town. The guns on the walls answered, and a brisk fire was kept up, for the next ten days. During this time several breaches had been effected in the wall, near the southeast angle, but the defenders had fixed strong wooden stockades in the debris every night, so that no attack could be made. In order to prevent this being done with the last-made breach, it was determined to assault at once.
The two prisoners had not had the lookout gallery to themselves. Some of the rajah’s officers were constantly there, and any movement of troops was at once reported by them. The rajah himself had, twice or thrice, come up for a short time to watch the operations; and had, on each occasion, talked for some minutes with Harry.
“Your people will be mad, if they try to attack us through that small hole in the wall,” he said, on the afternoon of the 14th. “Were they to level a quarter of a mile of the wall, they might have some chance, though I doubt whether they would ever get a footing at the top; but with all my soldiers ready to defend that small opening, and with thirty or forty guns to fire at your people as they advance, it is as ridiculous as if ten men should attempt to take this palace. What do you think?”
“I cannot say, Rajah. From here I am unable to see what is taking place at the walls, nor how wide is the breach you speak of, nor how deep the ditch beyond; therefore I can give no opinion.”
“The English are brave fighters,” the rajah said. “They have taken places in a few hours that seemed impregnable, but they cannot perform impossibilities. Our walls are defended by forty thousand men and—although in the open field I do not say that you might not defeat us, seeing how your troops are disciplined, while with us each man fights for himself—when it is a question of holding a wall or defending a breach, I can trust my soldiers. We are twice as numerous. We have heavier guns, and more of them, than you have and, as I told you, the English will never get into Bhurtpoor.”
At seven o’clock in the evening, a deep and almost continuous roar of guns broke out.
“The assault has begun!” Harry exclaimed. “We shall not see much, but we may get some idea as to how things are going from the lookout.”
It was too dark for the movements of troops to be seen, but the quick flashes of the guns on either side, and a play of flickering fire along the top of the wall showed that the storming party was approaching. The attack was made in three parties: one advanced against a battery which the defenders had established outside the walls, at a spot where its fire would take in flank any force advancing against the point towards which the fire of the English guns had been directed; another was to attempt a gateway near the breach; while the central column, consisting of five hundred Europeans and a battalion of Sepoys, was to attack the breach itself.
For a time the roar of firing was incessant. The alarm had been given as soon as the British columns advanced from the wood. Notwithstanding this, the right column advanced straight against the battery, captured it, and spiked the guns. The left column, as it approached the gate, came upon a deep cut filled with water and, having no means of crossing this, they moved to the support of the force attacking the breach. This had been greatly delayed. The ground to be crossed was swampy, with many pools and, in the darkness, numbers lost their way, and the force arrived at the point of attack in great confusion.
A small party of twenty-three men only—of the 22nd Regiment, under Lieutenant Manser—who formed the forlorn hope, crossed the ditch, breast high in water, and mounted the breach. In the confusion that reigned among the troops, some of the officers had lost their way, and there was no one to assume the command or to give orders; and Lieutenant Manser, finding that he was unsupported, and could not with a handful of men attempt to attack either of the bastions, from which a terrible fire was being maintained, made the men sit down and shelter themselves as well as they could, in the debris of the breach; while he himself recrossed the ditch to summon up the support. In this he failed. All order was lost, and the men who formed the forlorn hope were at last called back, and the whole force retired, suffering heavily from the terrible fire to which they were exposed. Eighty-five were killed and three hundred and seventy-one wounded.
A more deplorable and ill-managed assault was never made by British troops. As Harry had thought possible, Lord Lake had treated the capture of Bhurtpoor as if it had been but a little hill fort. He had made no attempt to carry out regular siege operations but, trusting to the valour of his troops, had sent them across a considerable distance of plain swept by the enemy’s fire, to assault a breach defended by some of the bravest tribesmen of India; and had not even issued commands which would have ensured order and cohesion in the attack.
The lesson that had been taught was not sufficiently taken to heart. Some more batteries were placed in position and, on the 16th, opened a heavy fire against the wall on the left of the former breach, which had been repaired during the two nights following its successful defence. So heavy was the fire from the new batteries that another breach was made in the course of a few hours. The Jats stockaded it during the night, but the timbers were soon knocked to fragments and, for five days, a continuous cannonade was maintained and a large breach formed.
It was necessary to find out how wide the ditch was, and three native cavalry and three British troopers, all dressed as natives, suddenly dashed out of the camp. At a short distance behind them a number of Sepoys ran out, as if in pursuit, discharging their muskets as they did so. Just as the six horsemen arrived at the ditch, two of the troopers’ chargers were made to fall. The native havildar shouted to the soldiers on the wall to save them from the accursed feringhees, and show them the nearest entrance to the city. The soldiers pointed to a gate near the breach and, as soon as the men had again mounted, the havildar rode with them along the ditch, and made the necessary observations.
Then they put spurs to their horses, and rode off—the Jats, on seeing that they had been deceived, opening upon them with musketry. Their excitement and fury, however, disturbed their aim, and the six horsemen rode into camp unhurt, and reported that the ditch was not very wide, and that it did not seem to be very deep.
Portable bridges were at once constructed. T
hese were to be carried by picked men, who were instructed in the best method of pushing them over the ditch. To prevent the recurrence of the confusion that had been, before, caused by the assault in the dark, it was determined that it should be made in daylight and, on the following afternoon, the storming party moved forward. It consisted of four hundred and twenty men from the European regiments, supported by the rest of those troops, and three battalions of native infantry. Colonel Macrae was in command. The whole of the batteries opened fire, to cover the movement and keep down that of the besieged.
On arriving at the ditch, it was found that the portable bridges could not be thrown across as, during the night, the garrison had dammed up the moat below the breach and turned a quantity of water into it, thus doubling both its width and depth. A few gallant fellows jumped in, swam across, and climbed the breach; but there were few capable of performing this feat, encumbered by their muskets and ammunition; and Colonel Macrae, seeing the impossibility of succeeding, called them back, and retired under a tremendous fire from the bastions and walls.
This assault was even more disastrous than the last, for the loss in killed and wounded amounted to nearly six hundred. Harry was deeply disappointed at these reverses, which the rajah himself, with great glee, reported to him with full details.
There had been other fighting: two British convoys on their way from Agra had been attacked by the horsemen of Ameer Khan, Holkar, and the rajah. The first might have been successful, for the twelve hundred bullocks were escorted by only fourteen hundred men; and these, although they might have defended themselves successfully, were unable to keep the convoy together. The animals, excited by the firing, were rushing off in all directions when, fortunately, a body of our cavalry which had been sent out to meet the convoy arrived, and drove off the enemy with a loss of six hundred men.
The next morning a general movement could be seen in the British camp. The rajah, who was immediately informed of it, came up to the lookout.
“The English general has given it up as hopeless,” he said. “They are about to march away.”
“It looks like it, Rajah,” Harry admitted, “but I should hardly fancy that Lord Lake will take such a step. He has tried to take the town by a sudden assault, and I think that he will not retreat until he has attempted to do so by a regular siege operation.”
An hour later the whole of the tents had been pulled down and, presently, both the troops and the huge body of followers and cattle were in motion.
“They are not going to Agra,” the rajah said, after watching them for some time; “they must be going to march to the north.”
Two hours later, the great procession had arrived at the north of the town. There they halted, and their long lines of tents began to rise.
“They are going to try another point,” the rajah exclaimed. “Truly they are brave men, but they will be repulsed, as they were before.”
“I fancy they will begin in another way, Rajah, and will make regular approaches, so that they will not have to pass across the open ground swept by your guns.”
This indeed turned out to be the case. The trenches were at once opened and, ere long, two batteries were established at a distance of four hundred yards from the wall. Two days later another, still nearer, opened fire and, by the 20th of February, the trenches had been pressed forward to the edge of the ditch; and a mine sunk, with the intention of blowing up the counterscarp, and so partially filling the ditch. The troops intended for the assault took their places in the trenches at an early hour, so as to be ready to attack as soon as the repairs made by the garrison in the breach during the night could be destroyed by the batteries.
The Jats, however, had been rendered so confident by their previous successes that, during the night, they made a sally, crept into the advanced trench—from which the workmen had been withdrawn—and started to demolish the mine and carry off the tools. As the storming party moved down through the trenches the Jats—who had made the first sally—joined by a considerable number from the town, rushed forward and attacked them; and inflicted considerable loss before they were repulsed. A portion of them, however, still held the advanced trench; and when the 75th and 76th, who were at the head of the column, were ordered to dislodge them, they hesitated.
The repulse of the former attacks had had its effect, and the troops, believing that the enemy would have filled the mine with powder, and would explode it as they advanced, refused to move. The remaining men of the flank companies of the 22nd stepped forward but, as they were too few to attack so considerable a number of the enemy, the 12th and 15th Sepoy Regiments were called to the front, and these advanced gallantly.
The enemy were driven from the trench at the point of the bayonet. The ditch, however, had again been flooded, and was found to be impassable; but there was a bastion to the right that had been damaged by the breaching guns, and the troops at once made for this. A few men of the 12th managed to climb up, and planted the flag of their regiment on it but, as only one could mount at a time, and the Jats were swarming down upon them, they were recalled; and the force again drew off, having lost, in killed and wounded, nearly nine hundred men. Notwithstanding the terrible losses that had been suffered, General Lake persevered in his intention to carry the place at the point of the bayonet; and on the following day the batteries opened their fire on the bastion that had been nearly carried by the 12th Native Infantry.
The position had become serious. The cavalry had, a fortnight or three weeks before, defeated those of the rajah and his allies with heavy loss, and brought in a convoy; and Ameer Khan, who had only joined the Rajah of Bhurtpoor in the hope of plunder, had deserted his ally and ridden off, with his following and a large body of Pindarees, with the intention of devastating and plundering the district of Rohilcund. Three regiments of British cavalry, under General Smith; and as many of native horse, with artillery, followed on his track and, after a pursuit of three weeks, at last came up with him, annihilated his infantry and captured his guns. His cavalry, however, for the most part escaped, as the horses of the pursuers were completely worn out.
They returned to the British camp, after more than a month’s absence, from a chase extending over seven hundred miles.
Their absence had greatly increased the difficulties in the British camp. Without their protection, the danger to which convoys were exposed was great. Provisions were running short in camp, the ammunition was almost exhausted, and numbers of the guns were rendered unserviceable. These circumstances afforded the only excuse that can be made for a fresh attack upon Bhurtpoor.
It was even more disastrous than those which had preceded it. The 75th and 76th Regiments, deeply ashamed of their conduct on the preceding occasion, volunteered to a man; and they, with the other European regiments and five regiments of Sepoys, under the command of Colonel Monson, moved out to the attack at three in the afternoon. Nothing could exceed the courage which they displayed, and their conduct rivalled that of the storming party at the siege of Badajos; but they were fighting against impossibilities. The bastion could not be climbed. Some of the soldiers drove their bayonets into the wall, one above another, and attempted to climb up by these steps; but were knocked down by logs of wood, large shot, and other missiles. Others attempted to get in by the shot holes that had been made, here and there; but as only one man could enter at a time, they were killed before a footing could be obtained. All this time a terrible fire was maintained by the enemy against our men, showers of grape and musketry swept their lines, pots filled with gunpowder and other combustibles exploded among them, bales of cotton dipped in oil fell flaming in their midst.
For two hours the hopeless conflict was maintained. Then the order was given to retire, and the men fell back; having lost, in killed and wounded, nine hundred and eighty-seven of their comrades. Thus the four assaults had cost the army three thousand two hundred and three of its best soldiers. The force was still further weakened by a large number of deaths from dysentery and fever, the r
esult of the miasma rising from the marshes.
The camp was now shifted to drier ground, to the northeast of the town, the movement being harassed by the enemy’s horse. The rajah, who had been jubilant over his success, looked grave when the new encampment was fixed.
“They have not done with me, yet,” he said to Harry. “Why do they not go, now they see that they cannot take the place?”
“Because were they to do so, Rajah, half India would be in arms against them in a fortnight. Never before, since we set foot in India, have such defeats been inflicted upon us; and Lord Lake cannot march away and so own himself entirely beaten. Never before has an English general out here so blundered.
“Still, although unable to take Bhurtpoor, General Lake knows well enough that he can easily repulse all attacks on his camp. He knows, too, that the greatest efforts will be made to send up reinforcements. Bombay, Madras, and Calcutta will all send every available man and, ere long, his losses will be much more than counterbalanced by the forces that will join him. We have, during our history, suffered several disasters; but never one that has not been redeemed and revenged.”
“Holkar was here, this morning,” the rajah said, after a long silence. “He came to congratulate me on our victory. After he had done so, he asked that you and your troopers should be handed over to him. I need scarcely say that I refused. You were captured by my men and, though I am in alliance with Holkar, I do not owe him any fealty. It is I who have aided him, while he has given but little assistance to me; and would, I am sure, ride away and leave me to my fate, if he knew where to go to. But his country, his capital, and his forts are all in the hands of the English; and he stays near here because it is, at present, the safest place for him.”
On the 23rd of March, the British cavalry returned. For a month no attempt had been made to renew the siege, but the camp still remained as a threat against Bhurtpoor, and the time had not been lost. Convoys, escorted by strong parties of infantry, had come out from Agra. Supplies of all kinds, battering guns and ammunition, arrived almost daily. The armourers worked at the old guns, and made them again fit for service; and everything showed that, when the attack was renewed, it would be much more formidable than before.