their own, but had pushed steadily on, piercing like a Spartan or Theban phalanx the clouds of horse and foot that yelled and shouted on all sides. Galbraith on the gallant grey horse, his helmet dashed off by the warded blow of a tulwar, whose owner paid dearly for the abortive stroke, cheering on his men with the same full ringing voice that encouraged the regimental pack of beagles to follow up 'poor pussy' in English country quarters; long 'Tom Oliver,' master of the revels at many a festive gathering in English or Indian garrison; 'Ready, always Ready,' as he was called by Sir Hope Grant; and all the young subs whose highest ambition was to live and die in the 'Berkshires ;'-all were forcing the gallant old corps, 'shoulder to shoulder' and 'touch to touch,' through the dense mass of turbaned Ghazis and the lurid light of blazing gunpowder that lit up the terrible slopes from which so few would return.

Once more General Burrows did all that a defeated man could do to retrieve the day, and had one more English battalion been near at hand fortune might have changed to our side. Galbraith and Oliver, finding themselves alone with their four companies on this terrible ridge, swept from right to left with thirty guns, pointed and placed I may say by no Afghan gunners, saw that their only chance was to retire upon what had been our camp. In the midst of a feu d'enfer and a galling fire from 4000 rifles, fortunately ill aimed and worse sighted, these splendid 400 bayonets commenced to retire, and this was done by the old manœuvre of alternate wings, the Colonel commanding one and Major Oliver the second. Twice did Ayub's cavalry come at them. Twice did those cheery accents ring out, 'On the centre sections! form square! Prepare for cavalry!'

'Ready!' 'Ay!' Ready it was, and as the sheet of flame glistened forth from the low line of bronzed level tubes many a proud and glittering horseman bit the dust, and gnawed the earth in death agony in front of those adamantine squares! Twice was I sent by the General to the 66th, and twice had I barely time to gallop to the bristling shelter of our 'Berkshire bayonets,' as the Colonel jocosely called my haven.

But the day wore on, and our men were falling fast. Our whole force was now ordered (too late) to retreat towards our camp; the left, where Jacob's Rifles and our two guns were posted, was in complete disorder, and the 66th alone checked the fury of our assailants, but the skeleton companies of the fine old corps alone came back. Galbraith fell leading on the rear guard while covering a glorious retreat against overwhelming odds. Oliver was badly hit. Ready was struck in the side, and a dozen more are still missing, whom we dare scarce hope to see again. After we had fallen back about half a mile from the fatal ridge the enemy further developed his attack, advancing not only on our flanks but on all sides, although the rifles of the 66th still told heavily. But a force held in reserve came suddenly from behind the hills, and, being supported by the Ghazis in front and by Ayub's infantry on our left, Jacob's Rifles, which were guarding that flank, were completely rolled up, and retreated in rear of the 66th, carrying in their rush the band and colours of the regiment.

'For Heaven's sake, my children, form square and steadily!' cried out Colonel Anderson of the Grenadiers. 'Keep steady, and it will all be right,' he added in Hindostani.

But this was too late. 'Too late!' The Grenadiers

scarcely hear their leader's cry. They are borne back by the wave of battle and the shields of the Ghazis upon the still unbroken ranks of the 66th, whose colonel was last seen galloping the gallant grey upon the swords and bayonets of the Afghan corps in his front! Oliver, the major, still remained, and as we were borne away by the tide of our horsemen, who now swooped down upon us, we could see the remnants of the 66th, Jacob's Rifles, and the Grenadiers, making a desperate rally in the walled enclosure where we had left our sick and stores (fortunately moved early in the action). Our infantry had now become separated from the cavalry and artillery, and were followed into the walled enclosure and the vineyards, where some desperate hand-to-hand fighting took place. The cavalry, which had been so uselessly decoyed away in the morning, now came back, but could do nothing to aid us, as the retreat had become general, and only our remaining guns and horsemen were enabled to keep any sort of formation. Of the horrors of that night I will tell you to-morrow, if my arm will allow.

AFTER THE BATTLE-HORRORS OF THE NIGHT RETREAT.

Hospital, Kandahar, July 31.

IN my hurriedly written letter of yesterday I endeavoured to describe what I saw during our disastrous engagement of the 27th, and in my version I ventured to point out the causes which, in the opinion of those who were actors in the scene, led to the terrible disgrace thrown upon our arms, a reverse so discreditable

to our military history perhaps unparalleled in army records. To say that our brigade was 'annihilated,' for such was the term employed in the first telegrams sent away from here, would perhaps be somewhat of an exaggeration, but I may distinctly say that never was a defeat more crushing or more complete, and it is impossible to deny the bitter fact that from first to last we were out-manoeuvred by Ayub, who not only chose a position we should have occupied, but lured us from the one we had taken into an ambush, where his guns had the best of ours, where his cavalry had the advantage, and where his infantry were better handled than our own. These are sad and humiliating truths, but it would be idle and useless to try to extenuate their existence.

At about half-past three o'clock in the afternoon our defeat was complete, and the survivors of our brigadethat is to say, the remnants of our three infantry and two cavalry regiments-were hurled into a confused mass of fugitives, endeavouring to gain the shelter of the walled enclosure, where in the morning our sick, wounded, and stores were placed. This place I have described to you as an oblong walled enclosure, about 80 yards long by 60 broad, and with stoutly built mud walls some 20 feet in height. Here Major Oliver made an attempt to rally his men, while General Burrows, with great gallantry, tried to collect and form the handful of our Sepoy regiments who had not fled from the field. Here Colonel Anderson, of the Grenadiers, made a desperate effort, with half-a-dozen brave fellows of his corps, to hold the gateway to the enclosure; while Captain Dick, who had charge of the commissariat stores, had made a sort of banquette of wooden cases and casks, from which our men were enabled to fire over the

walls. To this piece of forethought I believe we owe the short and partly effective stand we made at this building, for it enabled us to check the advance of our pursuers, while the scattered debris of our battalions were making some formation inside. Here at least were the colours of the 66th, and those of the Bombay Grenadiers, still intact, and here were Colonel Mainwaring, Colonel Griffiths, Major Oliver, Lieuts. Whittuck and Lynch, Captain Mayne, and Lieut. Reid, all, or nearly all, wounded, but gallantly getting their men to rally and re-form and cover the retreat. Outside this species of 'laager' some of the cavalry were still maintaining a hand-to-hand fight with the Afghan horsemen, who with fierce yells dashed themselves upon the thinned files of our men. In the midst of this confused mass of turbaned horsemen we could see the white helmet and streaming puggaree of Geoghegan, of the 3rd Cavalry, with two officers, whose faces were so blackened by powder that we could not distinguish them, and these gallant fellows, with a mere handful of their men, were making a desperate attempt to cut through their assailants, while we dared not fire in their direction lest we might injure our own people.

Meanwhile our ammunition was fast failing, and by the General's orders we slackened our fire, only delivering a shot or two when the enemy became massed and near enough to afford a certain mark for our rifles. Flaunting their standards, and with frantic yells and demoniac gestures, the standard-bearers ran in front of the serried masses of our foes, whom, however, we still managed to hold in check with our feeble fire.

'Had we but a couple of guns en barbette, and plenty of shrapnel, we could hold them at bay for a time,' said