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.