‘Anyone else hurt?’

His staff officers hurriedly checked themselves, but they were uninjured and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. ‘A freak shot, gentlemen. Nothing more. We must continue with our duties as calmly as possible, please. Do not unnerve our men.They already have enough to concern them.’

As soon as the infantry and artillery were across, Arthur ordered two companies of sepoys to defend the village on the north bank of the Kaitna and sent a message to Maxwell to bring his cavalry across the river to join the rest of the army. The Mysore cavalry was to be left to counter the Mahratta horsemen on the southern side of the river, in case they made any attempt to attack the rear of the British army. Then Arthur rode forward to make sure that his infantry line was ready to advance. The regular battalions were positioned on the flanks with the Company soldiers formed up in the middle, with cannon filling the gaps between the battalions, which now stood in two lines. Before he gave the order to advance Arthur rode forward with Fitzroy on to the slight rise in the ground that stood between the two armies. From there Arthur could see that the neck of land between the Kaitna and the Juah became wider as the two rivers diverged. Which was just as well, he reflected, as he looked towards Assaye and saw that it was ringed with cannon, and its crude walls were packed with enemy soldiers.Any English troops who ventured within range of Assaye were bound to be mauled and Arthur determined to make it clear to his unit commanders that they were to stay well clear of Assaye in the coming attack. The enemy line had finished its manoeuvre and now stood ready to receive the British attack.

‘It seems that I have underestimated Scindia’s professional soldiers,’ Arthur commented wryly. ‘This is going to be a bloody action.We’ll keep our left flank close to the Kaitna as we advance. That will leave only the right flank to cover. Maxwell can manage that.’

A distant rumble and rattle drew their attention to a dozen British guns being hauled into position opposite the enemy line.

‘About time,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Now they can have a taste of their own medicine.’

But even as the artillery crews urged their draught bullocks forward the Mahratta gunners were shifting their aim from the ford and a moment later the first rounds landed around the limbered British guns and their crews, chewing up the soil in small explosions of earth and grass.

‘They’re using grapeshot,’ Fitzroy observed.

An instant later the enemy gunners hit their first target as the leading pair of a team of bullocks shuddered under the impact of the heavy lead balls and collapsed dead in their traces, bringing the rest to an abrupt halt. Two more guns were knocked out before the British could reply and it was clear to Arthur that any intention he had of destroying the enemy artillery before his infantry advanced was doomed to failure. The Mahratta artillery crews knew their business well and were firing almost as fast as the remaining British guns. It was clearly a desperately unequal exchange and as chain shot shattered the wheels of yet another of his guns, Arthur realised that the time had come for his infantry to advance into the teeth of the enemy fire.

‘Give the order for the artillery to withdraw.’

As Fitzroy spurred his mount over to the guns Arthur turned the bay back to his waiting infantry and rode down the line giving his orders to each battalion commander in turn to make certain they knew exactly what was expected of them. The officer commanding the pickets on the right flank, Colonel Orrock, was a florid-faced Company veteran. As Arthur explained about the danger of approaching too close to Assaye he was certain he smelled spirits on the man’s breath. But there was no time to upbraid the man and once Orrock confirmed that he understood his orders Arthur rode on to the other battalions, finally taking up position behind the kilted Scotsmen of the 78th on the left flank. He nodded to Colonel Harness and the latter bellowed the order to advance, and the rest of the line followed suit, tramping up the slight rise in echelon.

As the line reached the crest the British regiments had their first sight of the dense mass of the enemy line waiting for them five hundred yards away. The Mahratta guns stood a short distance in front of the infantry, spread across the ground from the Kaitna to Assaye. The survivors of the first guns Arthur had sent forward had lost most of their horses and bullocks and could not join the advance. Arthur knew that meant that all he had available to him now was a handful of the guns assigned directly to the regular battalions.

The fire of the enemy guns slackened for a moment as they saw the approaching line of redcoats, and then flame-stabbed smoke rippled along the line again. Some shot went high, ripping through the air close overhead; some fell short and ripped up the ground ahead of the British infantry. But those that were on target cut bloody paths through the British line, which were hurriedly closed up as the battalions continued forward at the same measured pace.The air was filled with the booming roar of cannon and the whirr of iron shot passing close by, and still Arthur’s men did not flinch, but advanced with stolid determination towards the enemy guns. Then, at sixty paces, Colonel Harness ordered his men to halt and make ready to fire. Just ahead of them the Mahrattas, with equal courage and discipline, still worked their guns, firing into the British line at point-blank range.

Primed and cocked, the British muskets rose up, aiming at the gun crews.

‘Fire!’ Harness shouted.

There was a deafening crash and a blanket of greasy smoke blossomed in front of the 78th and at once the muskets were lowered as the Scotsmen drew another cartridge from their pouches, bit off the ball and tipped the powder into their muzzles, together with the waxed paper, spat the ball in after and packed the lot down firmly with their ramrods. Pans primed, they raised their muskets again and Harness cried out the order to unleash another volley.

Even as the sound of the last shot died away, Harness called for his men to fix bayonets and advance. Arthur rode forward with them, through the swirling smoke, emerging to see that the guns directly in front of the 78th had almost all been silenced. Miraculously, two full crews still remained, and still stood by their weapons, loading another round of grapeshot. As soon as he saw them, Harness increased the pace and the redcoats with their feathered bonnets and flapping kilts charged home. The Mahrattas snatched up their ramrods, handspikes and any other weapons that were to hand and threw themselves at the British. Despite their courage, the fight was over in a moment and the gunners lay where they had fallen around and under their cannon.

‘The 78th will re-form and reload!’ Harness yelled, and his men quickly closed up to face the block of enemy infantry behind the guns, barely more than a hundred yards away.The din of their shouted war cries and beaten drums contrasted sharply with the cool silence of the British ranks.

To his right, Arthur saw the battalion of sepoys halt to fire a volley at the gun crews in front of them and then they too charged home with the bayonet. Meanwhile, as the 78th began to advance again, the enemy infantry raised their muskets and fired a volley. The range was long and most shots missed, but some found their mark and men spun round and collapsed under the impact, before tumbling on to the trampled grass. Arthur felt the bay lurch beneath him and begin to topple to one side. Instantly he dropped the reins, kicked his feet free of the stirrups and threw himself clear just before the horse hit the ground and rolled over.The impact drove the breath from his lungs and for a moment he crouched on hands and knees, gasping for air.