While we were
watching the proceedings, the Interpreter to the Naval Brigade, Henry
Hamilton Maxwell, a brother officer of mine who had been standing
close to me, was very badly wounded in the leg, and both Sir Colin and
Sir Hope were hit by spent bullets, luckily without being much hurt.

There was a feeling throughout the army that Sir Colin was inclined to
favour Highlanders unduly; and a rumour got about that the 93rd were
to be allowed the honour of delivering the assault on Khudaganj, which
was highly resented by the 53rd, and they determined that on this
occasion, at any rate, the Highlanders should not have it all their
own way. The 53rd was composed of a remarkably fine set of fellows,
chiefly Irish, and it was Mansfield's own regiment; wishing,
therefore, to do an old comrade a good turn, he had placed Major
Payn,[1] one of the senior officers, in command of the piquets. Payn
was a fine dashing soldier, and a great favourite with the men, who
calculated on his backing them up if they upset Sir Colin's little
plan. Whether what happened was with or without Payn's permission, I
cannot say, but we were all waiting near the bridge for the attacking
party to form when suddenly the 'advance' was sounded, then the
'double,' followed by a tremendous cheer, and we saw the 53rd charge
the enemy. Sir Colin was very angry, but the 53rd could not be brought
back, and there was nothing for it but to support them. Hope's and
Greathed's troops were instantly pushed on, and the Cavalry and Horse
Artillery were ordered to mount.

The ground gradually sloped upwards towards Khudaganj, and the
regiments moving up to the attack made a fine picture. The 93rd
followed the impulsive 53rd, while Greathed's brigade took a line to
the left, and as they neared the village the rebels hastily limbered
up their guns and retired. This was an opportunity for mounted troops
such as does not often occur; it was instantly seized by Hope Grant,
who rode to the Cavalry, drawn up behind some sand hills, and gave the
word of command, 'Threes left, trot, march.' The words had hardly left
his lips before we had started in pursuit of the enemy, by this time
half a mile ahead, the 9th Lancers leading the way, followed by
Younghusband's, Gough's, and Probyn's squadrons. When within 300 yards
of the fugitives, the 'charge' was sounded, and in a few seconds we
were in their midst. A regular melee ensued, a number of the rebels
were killed, and seven guns