advance against the enemy. Part of it was
victorious, but the brigade of General Pennycuick met a terrific
repulse. "Its advance was daring in the extreme, but over impetuous.
The order to charge was given at too great a distance from the enemy;
consequently its British regiment, the gallant 24th, outstripped its
native regiments, mistaking the action of their brave leaders, Brigadier
Pennycuick and Lieutenant-Colonel Brookes, who waved their swords above
their heads, for the signal to advance in double-quick time. The 24th,
consequently, led by Colonel Brookes, rushed breathless and confused
upon the enemy's batteries. Close to their position, it received a
deadly shower of grape; and, while shattered by its fatal effects, was
torn to pieces by a close fire poured in by the Bunno troops from behind
a screen of jungle. The brigade was thrown into utter confusion. The
most desperate efforts of the officers availed not to restore order.
Colonel Brookes, with numbers of his brave 24th men, fell among the
guns. Brigadier Pennycuick was slain at the commencement. His son,
Ensign Pennycuick, when he saw his father fall, rushed forward, and
striding over his prostrate body, attempted to keep his assailants in
check; but the fierce Sikhs rushed on, and hacked the gallant youth to
pieces. Besides these brave chiefs, five captains, three lieutenants,
and three ensigns of the 24th were killed, while many more were wounded;
making in all 23 officers and 459 men. The Sikhs, seeing their
advantage, cut down their opponents with savage fury, and at length
compelled the shallow remnant of the regiment to fly in disorder."

The cavalry brigade was also brought forward in a way contrary to all
the rules of warfare. Advancing in line through a dense forest, they
came suddenly upon a strong body of Ghorchurras, intoxicated with the
stimulating drug which the heroes of the East call to the aid of their
valour. These fanatics, riding furiously towards them, killed some and
wounded others, among whom was their brave colonel. At this moment a
voice was heard to shout, "Threes about!" It was a fatal order.
Wheeling round, the British dragoons fled, panic-struck, followed by the
Ghorchurras, even among the ranks of the artillery. It was now that
their chaplain, who was attending to some of the wounded in the rear,
seeing them approach, grasped a sword, and leaped on a charger standing
near him. "My lads," he exclaimed, "you have l