Nothing very exciting occurred during the long, dusty march to Cawnpore. For a considerable part of the way we had to escort an immense train of empty bullock carts, destined for the use of Sir Colin's army; and our duties were monotonous in the extreme. Heartily would we have welcomed an attack on our convoy; but none was ever made.
At Cawnpore I was left in command of a detachment of fifty sabres, while the head-quarters of the regiment went on to Alumbagh, near Lucknow. This was a grievous disappointment to me; but as things turned out, nothing more lucky could have happened.
After having marched here and there about the country with a column under Brigadier-General Cardew, during which time nothing worth record occurred, we returned to Cawnpore and remained there for a while. My comrade and fellow-subaltern at that time was Lieutenant now (Colonel) Sir Robert Sandeman, K.C.S.I., to whose wisdom and tact and perseverance India owes her present impregnable frontier on the North-West, and the gradual conversion of the wild tribes of Baluchistan into friendly and peaceful communities. He and I one day rode out to visit our friends, the 3rd Battalion of the Rifle Brigade, at Unao, on the Lucknow road, where they were encamped under the command of Colonel Macdonell. While there the Colonel took me aside and informed me that a messenger had just come in with an urgent request for help from a village some few miles to the north, which was held by a small detachment of police. The village which, like most others in Oudh at that date, was fortunately protected by a strong and lofty mud-built wall, was attacked by a force of some hundreds of rebels; and unless speedily relieved its defenders were in danger of running short of ammunition. It was promptly arranged that Sandeman and I should gallop back to Cawnpore, report the state of affairs to General Sir John Inglis, and obtain his permission to bring our detachment as quickly as possible across country to a point about three miles from the threatened post, where we were to join a couple of companies of the Rifle Brigade and proceed to its relief.
Off we set as fast as our horses could carry us. It was late in the evening when we arrived; Sandeman going straight to our lines to turn out our men, while I went to the Fort and obtained an interview with Sir John Inglis.
He was at first apparently disinclined to let so young an officer take a detachment at night so far from support into the wilds; but at last he listened to my arguments, and after impressing on me that I was to act under the orders of Colonel Macdonell, allowed me to go.
When I got to the lines I found the men already mounted and "told off," and fresh horses ready for Sandeman and myself: so that we got under way at once. After crossing the bridge of boats we struck across country in a slanting direction to the left of the road. Night had fallen, but we had the advantage of a certain amount of moonlight, and were able to move pretty rapidly. When we arrived at the rendezvous there were no signs of Colonel Macdonell or his rifles; but a letter from him was put into my hands by a native messenger, who said that the Colonel, after starting from Unao, had gone back there on hearing that at nightfall the rebels had raised the siege of the village, and had retired to another some miles away. This after our long journey to Cawnpore and back was a terrible disappointment.
Possibly, however, the Colonel might have thought it undesirable to follow the enemy so great a distance with infantry, and might wish me to do so with my troop. The thought no sooner struck me than its "sweet reasonableness" began to grow on me; and I had very soon persuaded myself that the yet unopened missive contained instructions which chimed with my wishes. Unfortunately, however, it was too dark to read the letter without a light, and I had no matches! Neither, very curiously, had Sandeman! At any rate, we did not find any in our pockets: so we held a short council of war; and decided that in the absence of instructions, we felt it our duty to proceed to the lately beleaguered village, and learn all we could about the movements of the enemy. We took the messenger with us as a guide, and in another hour had reached our destination.
The brave defenders were delighted to see us; but they informed us that the rebels had not gone far, and would certainly return in the morning; and they implored us not to leave them to their fate.
On inquiring how many fighting men they could muster, we found that they could turn out about a hundred muskets and matchlocks of sorts. I then asked them what they thought was the strength of the enemy. About five or six hundred they said. Allowing for Oriental exaggeration, we guessed that two hundred and fifty or three hundred would probably be nearer the mark; so I asked them if they were game to accompany us and beat up their late assailants, whom we would certainly find quite unprepared for our midnight visit. With the greatest alacrity they agreed: so, without loss of time, I made my dispositions, and formed up my little army in the order which it was to keep till the moment of attack. In the centre I managed with some difficulty to get the police and the armed villagers to arrange themselves in a line, impressing on them that if they could keep that formation till we came in contact with the enemy, they would certainly be mistaken for a company of the dreaded gora logue (white troops), which would be a heavy score in our favour. My own party I divided into two bodies of 25 sabres each and placed one on each flank, giving the command of the left to Lieutenant Sandeman and of the right to a native officer, till the moment of the charge, when I proposed to lead it. I then explained the plan of attack, and took very good care that every man of my motley allies thoroughly understood it, and appreciated the extreme necessity of adhering to it. A guide was placed in front of the centre of the line, where I took up my position; and he was ordered to lead me straight to the camp of the rebels, who, we were assured, would be found "en bivouac" close to a village about three miles away. The very strictest silence was enjoined on all. As my object was to surprise the enemy and fall on him without giving him the slightest hint of our approach, I did not send forward a single scout. The line was to advance quietly and steadily, till I should give a loud "Hurrah," which was to be the signal for the police and village heroes to "loose off" every musket they had, and to yell with all their lungs, when the cavalry from both flanks would charge, also with a shout.