The rebels came on with all the confidence imparted by superior numerical strength, though their appearance was rather “picturesque” than military, insomuch that from right to left within eye-range they appeared arrayed in a variety of showy costumes, while moving about in their midst were elephants also gaudily caparisoned. The Sepoy portion of this host, however, retained what might be termed half of their original uniform — that is to say, they wore the regulation white jacket of their defunct regiments, while their nether garments were strictly native. Their horse artillery (formerly, of course, belonging to the East India Company, but now “annexed” to their own forces) also astonished us by displaying surprising facility of movement; and in spite of the rugged ground that intersected the flat country, they could be distinctly seen galloping at speed from position to position, and bringing their guns to bear upon, our ranks with a precision equal to the celerity with which they limbered up and unlimbered, and which was unquestionably worthy of applause.
A general fusilade opened on both sides, and was immediately followed by a thundering cannonade. A sanguinary conflict now ensued, and men began to drop, few killed, many wounded. The clash of arms, the deafening roar of guns, the whizzing of shells and thousands of bullets, all evidenced the desperate onset and fight. But as by this time dense clouds of smoke and dust had enveloped the whole scene, it will, nay, it must, suffice (for, as already stated, I am relating
