During the action, the 9th Lancers advanced at about eleven o'clock A.M., under a heavy fire, in two lines, for the purpose of charging the enemy, when I commanded the left troop of the second squadron; after a time, however, as no opportunity to charge was allowed, we again fell back. The 9th Lancers left their camp at four o'clock A.M., and returned to it between five and six o'clock P.M., not a little tired, as the reader may imagine.
Thus the day, which rose so bright upon the landscape, after the mists of the early morning had been dispelled by the brilliant rays of the sun, was darkened by a battle and slaughter and death, ere the shades of evening closed upon it. The indomitable Sikhs, whose bravery was but the more aroused by the defeat at Aliwal, and whose feelings had been harrowed by the sight of the corpses of their unavenged comrades slain in that battle, who were still borne along the stream, and who had entered upon the contest with the resolve to conquer or die, these brave fellows were now lying in hundreds, or rather in thousands upon thousands, on the field of carnage, or floating along the sweeping flood of the Sutlej, while others fled in wild confusion before their victorious foe. But where were now their leaders?—the men who had instigated the revolt, and who with dastardly duplicity sought their private interests by simulated friendship with both parties? Where was Tej Singh, the chief commander of the Sikh forces? When the British opened the assault, Tej Singh commanded the entrenchment, but as soon as we had effected breaches in the mound, and the fire from his batteries began to slacken, when his followers were falling thick around him, when the British, led on by their gallant commanders, fought resolutely for every inch of ground, Tej Singh, instead of manfully leading on fresh troops, and animating them by his example, like a base traitor, again deserted his post; he fled at the first brush, and, as at the battle of Ferozeshah, abandoned his troops, and, in their destruction, sought, and effected his own escape; Goolab Singh, who had played his cards so well, was at the side of the Maharannee, counselling the adoption of such measures as would virtually promote his own interests; while the intriguer, Lall Singh, lay with his cavalry higher up the river in a careless, unmilitary position, conscious of being closely watched by the English.
Far different was the conduct and deportment of Sirdar Sham Singh, of Attaree. In accordance with the vow so solemnly made to his men that he would die in the conflict, and thus offer up himself as a propitiatory sacrifice for his country's weal to appease the wrath of Govind, he clothed himself in a white garment, as one who had devoted himself to death, and calling upon all around to follow him, he unflinchingly led on his rapidly thinning ranks, with the assurance of the Gooroo's eternal reward to those who should fall in defence of their country; and, at last, covered with wounds, the fine old veteran sunk down a lifeless corpse, amidst the slaughtered bodies of his brave followers.
The Commander-in-Chief estimated the loss of the Sikhs in this decisive battle at from 12,000 to 15,000 men; while that on the side of the British was, 320 killed, and 2,063 wounded, making our total loss 2,383.[33]
FOOTNOTES:
[27] Field of Mars, 1801.
[28] War in India, Despatches of Lords Hardinge and Gough. Second Edition. London, 1846; p. 116.
[29] Afterwards, Major-General Sir Walter Raleigh Gilbert, Bart., G.C.B. (since deceased).
[30] Lieutenant-Colonel, 9th Lancers, and formerly Lieutenant-Colonel in the 4th Light Dragoons, from which, like the author, he was removed into his present corps, when the 4th was put on the English establishment, on its return from Bombay in 1842. Colonel and A.D.C. to the Queen.