spirits of the soldiers were still high, and the sight was one calculated to discourage men not on the move. Realising the situation on the moment, he rode to the front on his pony — for his horse had been shot under him — and turning round to the men, sitting between them and the enemy's fire, he said in a high-pitched voice: 'The longer you look at it, men, the less you will like it. Rise up. The brigade will advance, left battalion leading.'
The left battalion was the 64th. I shall follow the example of the last of the biographers[1] of Havelock, to whose vivid and picturesque account of the battle I am much indebted, and describe the action that followed in the words of the General himself: 'The enemy sent round-shot into our ranks until we were within 300 yards, and then poured in grape with such precision and determination as I have seldom witnessed. But the 64th, led by Major Sterling and by my Aide-de-Camp' — his son, the present Sir Henry Havelock-Allan — 'who had placed himself in their front, were not to be denied. Their rear showed the ground strewed with wounded; but on they steadily and silently came, then with a cheer charged and captured the unwieldy trophy of their valour. The enemy lost all heart, and, after a hurried fire of musketry, gave way in total rout. Four of my guns came up, and completed their discomfiture by a heavy cannonade; and as it grew dark the roofless barracks of our artillery were dimly descried in advance, and it was evident that Kánhpur was once more in our possession.' The little force bivouacked for the night on the edge of the plain which marks the entry into the station, about two miles from the town. They had neither food nor tents; they had marched twenty miles, and had defeated an enemy, stronger in all arms, outnumbering them by nearly five
- ↑ Havelock. By Archibald Forbes. Macmillan, 1890.
