Marching to the Drums

British Colonial Wars

by Lionel Leventhal

In a gripping new compendium of rare first-hand accounts, Ian Knight presents the adventure of nineteenth-century warfare – from the thrill of a cavalry charge to the terror of battle against an overwhelming force – in the words of the men actually there. Marching to the Drums: Eyewitness Accounts of War from the Kabul Massacre to the Siege of Mafikeng provides a vivid and sometimes shocking insight into the brutal realities of warfare for the British imperial soldier, who fought against many different enemies and in some of the most terrible conditions imaginable.

These stirring tales of military adventure have been edited by Ian Knight and are now brought together and published in book form for the first time. Originally featured in popular turn-of-the-century magazines, these historically valuable accounts throw considerable light on campaign conditions during Queen Victoria's wars.

One of the eyewitnesses, Gunner Francis Naylor of the Royal Horse Artillery, survived the battle of Maiwand in 1880. 'Maiwand is famous for two things – the loss of British guns and the loss of British Colours' he wrote. It was almost the worst British disaster of the period, surpassed only by Isandlwana the year before.

The battle took place during the Second Afghan War, when the British learnt that the Afghans under Ayub Khan planned to attack the garrison at Kandahar. General Burrows led a brigade out to intercept them. The two forces – 25,000 Afghans and 2,500 British – met outside the village of Maiwand on 27 July. Gunner Naylor described the day's events:

"There we were, then, trapped in a valley, with thousands of Afghans hovering and flying about us; and only those who have fought against them in their native hills can really understand how swift they are in their movements. And they are so merciless with it! There were the few companies of the 66th, officers and men who were as brave as any that ever wore uniform, their Colours proudly borne amongst them, with the young subalterns carrying them, full of the fire and spirit which always came to men into whose keeping these sacred folds of silk were given.

The artillery duel had developed suddenly. We had fired three or four rounds out of each gun, and I remember so well hearing Gunner Moorcroft say hopefully, as men like to speak at such a time of stress: 'We'll soon have 'em out of action!' Instantly, as it seemed, the very ground rumbled, and the air was filled with the flashes and thickened with the smoke of thirty-two guns, sweeping upon and into us, and tearing into and through our huddled and disorganised masses.

Picture, if you can, the horrors and consternation of an onslaught like that, in a crowded space, with a cruel enemy in overwhelming numbers surrounding us, and animals wildly stampeding, and transport followers and drivers thrown into panic and confusion. There were Krupp guns as well as smoothbore guns, and these weapons outnumbered us altogether. In addition to our own Horse Artillery guns, we had the smoothbores which we had taken, and these were manned by men of the 66th, in charge of a few of the men of E Battery. They were in the rear of our own battery, but did not do much mischief.

We were now fighting not so much for victory, which there was no hope of winning, as for our very existence. At No. 2 gun, which was in charge of Sergeant Mullane, who later in the day won the VC, I fired no fewer than 105 rounds. That gun and the other guns became almost red hot, and some of the men had their hands burnt in handling them. It was while serving the gun that I lost my hand. I was taking a tube out of my pouch to fire another cartridge, when a six-pound shot ricocheted on the gun-wheel tyre, which is a broad iron band. The shot tore the tyre as if it had been India rubber, struck me on the left hand, and then broke one of the bones in one of our officers' arms.

The 66th were fighting nobly, refusing to give way, and rallying on their Colours. Officer after officer, and man after man, went down in defence of the Colours; but they remained flying until the enemy closed in upon us like a horseshoe, and even the most hopeful of us knew that there was only one chance of safety for us, and that that lay in flight.

It was a case of every man for himself. There was no time even to spike the guns – they had to be abandoned. One of our men tumbled an Afghan over by thrusting at him with his rammer, and then managed to get away; another cut through the stirrup-leather of one of the gunners, and ran along with his horse and managed to escape. Nearly half our horses were killed, and of those that were living some were shockingly wounded.

The two guns were lost – we knew that. The enemy had captured them. They had also made Lieutenant Maclaine a prisoner – which in the case of the Afghans was worse than death itself. That was part of the price which we of the artillery were paying. As for the 66th, they were in as bad a plight. Desperate thought their efforts were to save the Colours – even to the stripping of the poles, so that someone might perhaps get clear of the battlefield with the silk – that failed. vThe Afghans captured the Colours. What became of them I do not know, but the poles were used as rammers for our own lost guns – which is, I daresay, an incident that is without parallel in our army."

The retreat was a hard ride through the remaining day and night, until Kandahar was reached the next morning. Two men were awarded the Victoria Cross and eight the Distinguished Conduct Medal for their actions.

Marching to the Drums includes accounts focusing on the experience of battle during such pivotal military events as the Sikh Wars, the Crimean War, the Afghan Wars, the Anglo-Zulu War, China, the Sudan and the Boer War.

Ian Knight is a foremost expert on Zulu military history and nineteenth-century military campaigns. His other books include Brave Men's Blood, Nothing Remains But to Fight, The Anatomy of the Zulu Army and Go to your God like a Soldier.


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