The order to advance was given, and the General and his staff rode forward in face of the heavy fire from the Beloochee guns. The enemy’s right was strongly protected by the village of Kottree, now filled with matchlock-men. The main body of the British advanced in columns of regiments, the right passing securely under the wall of the enclosure, where Tew’s gallant company, now reinforced by a gun, were with a rattling fire of musketry keeping their host of foes in check. Onward marched the main body of the British army, while Clibborne’s grenadiers were storming the village of Kottree on the left. The level was all the time swept by the Beloochee guns and matchlocks, answered at times by Lloyd’s battery, but nothing stopped the progress of the gallant band. When within 100 yards of the Fullaillee, the 22nd opened into line, and all the columns formed in succession, each company as it arrived throwing its fire at the top of the bank, where the faces of the Beloochees could be seen bending with fiery glances over their levelled matchlocks.

The British front was still incomplete, when the voice of the General, loud and clear, was heard commanding the charge. The order was answered by a hearty British cheer. Four guns were run forward, and the infantry, at full speed, dashed on towards the river, and rushed up the sloping bank. The stern Beloochees, with matchlocks resting on the summit, let their assailants come within 15 yards before they delivered their fire; but the steepness of the slope inside, which rendered their footing unsteady, and the rapid pace of the British, spoilt their aim, and the execution done was not great.

The next moment the 22nd were on the top of the bank, thinking to bear all down before them; but even they staggered back at the forest of swords waving in their front. Thick as standing corn, and gorgeous as a field of tulips, were the Beloochees in their many-coloured garments and turbans. They filled the broad, deep bed of the now dry Fullaillee; they were clustered on both banks, and covered the plain beyond. Guarding their heads with their large dark shields, they shook their sharp swords, gleaming in the sun, and their shouts rolled like a peal of thunder, as, with frantic might and gestures, they dashed against the front of the 22nd. But with shrieks as wild and fierce, and hearts as big, and arms as strong, the British soldiers met them with the bayonet, which they used with terrible effect against their foremost warriors. At the same time the few guns that could be placed in position on the right of the 22nd, flanked by Henderson’s small band of Madras sappers, swept diagonally the bed of the river, tearing the rushing masses with a horrible carnage. Soon the sepoy regiments, 12th and 25th, prolonged the line of fire to the left, coming into action successively in the same terrible manner.

“Now the Beloochees closed in denser masses, and the dreadful rush of their swordsmen was felt, and their shouts answered by the pealing musketry, and such a fight ensued as has seldom been recorded in the annals of warfare. Over and over again those wild, fierce warriors, with shields held high and blades drawn back, strove with strength and courage to break through the British ranks. No fire of small-arms, no sweeping discharge of grape, no push of bayonets could drive them back; they gave their breasts to the shot, their shields to the bayonet, and, leaping at the guns, were blown away by twenties at a time: their dead rolled down the steep slope by hundreds, but the gaps were continually filled from the rear; the survivors pressed forward with unabated fury, and the bayonet and sword clashed in full and frequent conflict.”

Thus they fought—never more than five yards apart, often intermingled, and several times the different regiments were forced backwards, but their General was always there to rally and cheer them. At his voice their strength returned, and they recovered ground, though soon in the dreadful conflict nearly all their regimental leaders were killed or wounded.

Major Teasdale, animating the sepoys of the 25th Regiment, rode violently down a gap in the Beloochees, and was there killed by shot and sabre.

Major Jackson, of the 12th, coming up with his regiment, the next in line, followed the same heroic example. Two brave havildars kept close to him, all three in advance of their regiment, and all fell dead together, but not till several of the fiercest of the Beloochee swordsmen were seen to sink beneath the brave Jackson’s strong arm and whirling blade. Here also fell Captains Cookson and Meade, and Lieutenant Wood, nobly cheering on their men to the attack, while Tew had died at his post at the entrance of the shikargah. Many more were desperately wounded: Colonel Pennefather and Major Wylie; Captains Tucker, Smith, Conway; Lieutenants Plowden, Harding, Thayre, Bourdillon; Ensigns Firth, Pennefather, Bowden, Holbrow.

Lieutenant Harding, of the 22nd, was the first to leap upon the bank. His legs were cut by the swordsmen, and he fell, but rose again instantly, and, waving his cap, cheered his men to the charge. Receiving another sword-cut, his right hand was maimed; yet still he urged the men forward, till at length a shot went through his lungs, and again he fell, and was carried out of the fight.

Lieutenant McMurdo, a young staff-officer, rode, like Teasdale and Jackson, into the bed of the Fullaillee, and his horse being killed, he fell. Regaining his feet, he met and slew Jehan Mohamed, a great chief and a hardy warrior, in the midst of his tribe. Several of Jehan’s followers then engaged him in front, while one struck at him fiercely from behind, but being at that moment struck down by a sergeant of the 22nd, the blow fell harmless. McMurdo turned and repaid the service by cleaving to the brow a swordsman who was aiming at his preserver’s back; another fell beneath his weapon, and then he and the sergeant fought their way out from among the crowds of foes pressing fiercely round them.

Several times the sepoys, when their leaders were killed or disabled, slowly receded; but the General was always at the point of the greatest danger, and then manfully his swarthy soldiers recovered their ground.