The North-eastern frontier of India has ever been a source of trouble and expense to the British Government. Each district on this frontier had a history that was almost always the same. The pattern was made up of a hill district, bordered by wild country inhabited by fierce and predatory tribes who were forever making raids on their neighbours villages, burning and plundering and carrying off inhabitants. These lawless activities only diminished when the district being annexed as a portion of British territory protected those inhabitants. But, annexation did not necessarily stop the raids and it frequently became necessary for a British force to be sent to secure the peace of the frontier. Cachar, annexed in 1832, was a province of Hindustan, bounded on the north by the Brahmaputra river, which separates it from Assam.

From the year 1840 this area was repeatedly invaded by tribesmen from the Lushais Hills, hardy mountaineers about five feet six in height with dark brown complexions and flat retrousse noses, thick lips and small almond shaped eyes. Usually clad in a large homespun sheet of cotton cloth wound round the body, they were also fond of Scottish tartans which they bought in the markets at Manipur and Cachar. They were armed with old flint muskets, bearing the Tower mark, some nearly a hundred years old. Their other weapons were bamboo bows and poisoned arrows, spears, the dao (a triangular blade twelve inches long) and the long two-handed Burmese knife along over the shoulder. Their bullets were iron slugs or lead hammered into shape and their powder flasks were bulls horns sometimes mounted with silver.

In a long history of outrages, those of 1844, 1850 and 1862 were the most extensive. An expedition under colonel Lister was sent against them in 1850, which destroyed the large village of Mora and released 400 captives. As the force retired, the Lushais endeavoured to cut off their communications; following them they mercilessly slew every straggler. In 1871, the Governor-General-in-Council decided to send a force against the marauders. It was to consist of two columns; one to start from Cachar and the other from Chittagong, in the South-eastern extremety of Bengal. Each column consisted of three regiments, accompanied by a half battery of artillery and a company of Sappers and Miners, making a force of about 2,000 men with and equal number of coolies and a large number of elephants. Brigadier General Bourchier, commanding the North-eastern Frontier District, was appointed to the Cachar column. The Rajah of Manipur, consisting of 500 men, supplied a contingent force.

The Cachar (the left) column of the expedition marched out in mid-October 1871. They had a choice of two possible routes, both of these seemed extremely difficult, with a grave scarcity of water. One of the routes showed some elephant tracks and the 44th Native Infantry were sent out to widen and improve the path. It lay through a jungle of forest trees from the branches of which he creepers hung in graceful festoons, with a profusion of tall bamboos and canes all round, while tangled thorns and shrubs and a network of long roots covered every inch of the ground between them. The marching troops found the route to be very difficult and were in no mood to appreciate the beauty of the scenery around them. In several places the Lushais had put up symbols as warnings to our troops – one of these was a model gallows of bamboo with little wooden men hanging from it. At one stage, near a weir made of bamboo and stones for catching fish, so 50 Lushais collected and made threatening demonstrations, calling out to the advancing force. It was explained to them that no harm was intended them if they offered no opposition to the British advance and the 44th were ordered not to fire unless attacked first. The advance continued and the Lushais retired without firing, but still shouting.

On the 23rd of December, leaving a number of men to guard the camp, General Bouchier marched out with the rest of his force. Their way lay up-hill, it was steep and the jungle was thick and dense. Emerging from the jungle, they came upon a village built on the summit of a ridge, with houses of timber and bamboo thatched with grass. Excitedly a native scout ran back and cried that the village was full of Lushais. Seen by the alarmed inhabitants of the village, the advancing force took a scattered volley and then the 22nd Regiment rushed in with their bayonets. The enemy darted from houses on all sides and fled like hares over the crest of the hills above.

A search showed the houses of the village to be full of grain; they were instantly destroyed by fire. After skirmishing up the hill for three hours, two more villages and several store houses full of grain were discovered and set on fire. The large main village was visible on the summit on the Vauboug ridge 3,300 feet above the place where the British troops had encamped that morning, and the troops pushed on to attack it. The Lushais made a vigorous attempt to defend this village but were hurled out by the 44th Native Infantry who lost only two men.

The enemies mode of fighting, the steepness of the ground and the density of the forest were all in their favour and against the British force. No Lushai dead were ever found – casualties were always borne away or concealed because of the superstition that if the head of a man slain in battle falls into the hands of an enemy, the man so slain became a slave of the victor in the world to come.

Skirmishing between the sentries and the Lushais was maintained all night; the enemy firing into the camp from the depths of the forest and being answered by more regular rifle fire of the British sentries. In the morning, two flintlock muskets were picked up from blood-soaked ground, but no casualties were found. The 44th spent Christmas Day at their work of destruction, burning 22 well-filled granaries and bringing in the body of one Lushai. The officers contrived to set up a Christmas mess and all dined together with candles burning on the table. Though the Lushais were firing all night from the surrounding jungle it was remarkable that not a shot was sent in the direction of these lights and when Christmas songs were sung after dinner, the Lushais ceased firing to listen.

Daily, more Lushais were gathering, showing marked improvement in skill and wariness; soon the village became untenable. It was decided to fall back on the post at the Tuibum river. The 22nd formed the advance; the baggage and sick were sent on in front, and the 44th covered the rear – their destination was reached without a single casualty. The elusive Lushais constantly fired into the camp and molested all working parties; in reprisal, nearby villages were burned. Near a village that had just been set on fire, the force came upon a man wearing a yellow cloak and a scarlet head-dress. He proved to be a messanger from a Lushai chief offering to make peace for the villages and procure a cessation of hostilities. General Bourchier consented and the messanger climbed into a tree and shouted the cry of peace to his invisible comrades in the jungle. From that moment, all firing ceased and for some days after this time passed quietly enough for the officers to go fishing.

At Tipai Mukh, the artillery had been left with a wing of the 42nd and another of the 44th under the command of Colonel Hicks. The artillery and commissariat elephants were incautiously taken further away to graze by their mahouts than was wise. In the forenoon one of these attendants rushed into camp to announce that the forty-six elephants had been attacked by the Lushais and driven up the stream while the mahouts were being killed. The bugle sounded and as the troops fell in an elephant stampeded back with blood pouring from several bullet wounds. The guns were placed in a commanding position as a body of the enemy was seen approaching to attack the little camp. The invisible Lushais sent a red spluttering of fire flashing out of the dark jungle. In retrn, the troops poured a few random rattling volleys and finally a single cannon ball directed where the enemy’s smoke was thickest. Groans and yells followed and the firing ceased. Crossing the river in boats, a party of the 42nd recovered nine of the elephants and some of the severely wounded mahouts. Next day, all the animals, save three, were retaken.

On the 17th of January General Bourchier ordered his force to march out. As they scrambled over rough ground, they could see in the distance, groups of two or three hundred Lushai musketeers extended in fighting order. All clad alike in grey shirts, with a grey head-dress and a haversack over the left shoulder, they did not fire a shot, contenting themselves with threatening gestures. The troops continued to ascend to a height of 2,200 feet, the artillery elephants climbing with difficulty. The General had only a small force at his disposal, having had to leave numerous detachments in his rear. This meant that they were unable to search the steep and wooded hillsides as they marched between them. After about a half mile, the small force were clambering up a steep and rocky path when the leafy gloom of the forest was streaked by countless flashes of fire and bullets and slugs whistled like hail through the ranks. At the first discharge, the General’s orderly was shot dead and almost immediately the General himself was wounded in the left hand and arm by a Lushai from only eight yards range.

The sepoys kept their heads and returned fire, and the 44th, under Colonel Nuttall, flung down the packs and greatcoats and dived into a rocky stream to meet the enemy hand-to-hand in their own jungle. Thirteen Lushais fell in one spot in the stream, those who were not dead were mercilessly dispatched by the native troops; eventually the natives scattered up the hill.

The General’s wounds were dressed and he resumed his place at the head of the slender column. Some of the Lushais who had slipped past to attack the rear-guard were repulsed with some losses. On clearing the rugged path and getting into open ground, the force could see the Lushais running wildly along the green spurs and ridges of the hills as if mustering and preparing for a stand at the village that lay ahead. The path that had to be followed could be seen to wind along the face of a tremendous precipice; for some distance it was commanded by a stockade where a few resolute men could defy a whole army, causing heavy casualties by rocks hurled from above.

General Bourchier rapidly advanced his force so that the Lushais had no time to man the fortification and the stockade was uneventfully passed. Another stockade loomed up ahead on the crest of a precipitous ridge; here the column was received with a volley of shots flashing out from the log barricade. The nature of the ground prevented this stockade from being easily stormed, so two parties of the 44th, under white officers, skirmished round to the right, taking advantage of the long and feathery jungle grass. Concealed from the Lushais in the stockade, who spent their ammunition in the direction of the road where the main body remained halted under the shelter of a bank, the flank attackers suddenly opened fire upon the defenders of the stockade from one side. Without firing a shot, the Lushais fled, to rush down the hillside and vanish into the forest. The force advanced through the stockade to the village 200 yards behind it and halted. Fires were found burning in the houses and domestic articles lay around indicating how unprepared the inhabitants had been for the result of the attack. That evening to coolies brought up the baggage but the artillery elephants could get no further than the lowest barrier.

Next day, Colonel Roberts was ordered to proceed with two steel guns of the mountain battery and 100 men to burn the village of Taikum. The guns had to be conveyed by coolies and not by elephants as the way was too steep and rough. The natives allocated themselves 16 to a gun – 6 for the gun itself, which weighed 150lbs, 6 for the carriage, and 2 for each wheel, with 4 each for ammunition box, containing 9 rounds. Finding a strong stockade built across a path of the valley, Colonel Roberts took his small force on a detour over some steep mountain spurs up to a height of 6,000 feet to turn the flank of the stockade and cause the enemy to abandon it.

At five in the evening, Taikum, a village of 200 houses situated on a summit of a hill and surrounded by a strong stockade, came in sight. At 1,200 yards range the guns were brought to bear upon it. The first shell did not appear to have much effect but the second was seen to burst with a white puff of smoke in the very center of a group of Lushais who seemed paralyzed by its terrible results. They turned and fled down the narrow streets carrying off their killed and wounded. Two more rounds of the gun having completely cleared the village, it was entered by the infantry and set on fire. By eleven at night, Colonel Robert’s force were back in camp, exhausted but with the satisfied air of men who had done a hard days work.

On the 1st of February, Bourchier’s force was again traveling along steep and lofty hills, through virgin forest, the gloom of which had never been penetrated by the rays of the sun. Eventually, they came in sight of Chelam, the chief stronghold of the Lushai chief, situated on a hill 85,00 feet high, rising in tiers of broad streets upon the slope, enclosed by a strong stockade. It had been abandoned so the force, marched in and took possession.

After some more-heavy marching a further stronghold, the village of Lunguel, was occupied and the British flag was hoisted on a tall pole in a place where the British flag had never flown before. The troops were formed in a hollow square and the General addressed his force in a few well-chosen and appropriate sentences and thanked them, on behalf of the Queen and the Viceroy, for their admirable behavior throughout. Three hearty cheers were given, the village was set in flames and speedily reduced to ashes – all save some planking which the soldiers kept to make huts for themselves. The troops withdrew to a nearby valley and encamped near a stream, in a pleasant spot under some trees.

Reluctantly, the headmen of the Lushais accepted the peace terms of the General. They had to give up their arms and also pay as a fine a war-drum, a set of gongs, soma goats, some figs, some fowls and twenty maunds of husked rice. In his farewell order, General Bourchier conclude by saying:

“The history of the expedition, from first to last, has been sheer hard work. Young officers may especially feel glad having has such an opportunity of gaining experience in mountain warfare.”