To Major W. S. Beatson, Deputy Adjutant-General Before Bhurtpore, 10 Dec. 1825 Sir, I have the honor to report, for the information of His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief, that, in obedience to his command, I proceeded to make a reconnaissance on the Fortress of Bhurtpore with the object of intercepting the means of inundation of its defences at what is known as the Mottee Jheel, with under my command one troop 6th Light Dragoons, one squadron 11th Light Dragoons under the direct command of Captain Rotton, and a detachment of Colonel Skinner's Horse, under Major Fraser. On advancing in the vicinity of the Bund at first light, I encountered an encampment of the enemy's cavalry, which was at once attacked and the enemy driven off without loss. The body of Colonel Skinner's Horse, acting on the initiative of Major Fraser, made a flank movement; by which they intercepted and cut up more than five hundred of the Enemy's cavalry, before they could reach an outwork in which the greater proportion of them took refuge. At this time the guns of the Fortress opened a moderate fire upon the force, but without damage.
After the affair of the Enemy's cavalry, I proceeded at once for the Bund which was found to be cut in two places, though the breaches had not been quite completed. A moderate amount of water, only, was judged to have entered the channels, and this was later confirmed by reconnaissance, the ditches of all the outworks being dry. Work was begun at once, under Lt Irvine of the Engineers, to repair the breaches, and this was accomplished by late morning. The Enemy mounted two attacks on the Bund during this time, but they were heartless affairs and easily beaten off. At thirty minutes past midday, the relieving party under the command of Brig.-General Sleigh took possession of the Jheel Bund, and, as instructed to do so, I relinquished my responsibilities in this regard.
I beg I may be allowed to express my approbation of the intelligence and zeal of Major Fraser and Lt Irvine, and that the conduct of the body of Colonel Skinner's Horse was exemplary. I have the Honor to be, amp;c. amp;c. amp;c. M. P. Hervey, Major Hervey led his troop into the Sixth's lines late that afternoon, his command now dispersed, but their feat of arms already the talk of the army. Edmonds had turned the regiment out in their honour, mounted ranks with swords drawn, and the quarter-guard with carbines at the present. Local rank Hervey's majority might be, but it entitled him to arms presented rather than a mere butt salute, and Edmonds would have the regiment know what a day in its annals this would surely become.
Hervey could scarce believe the material for the siege now assembling – the ordnance, the tentage, camp stores, provisions, transport; the livestock, somehow driven from Agra and Muttra with as much ease, it would appear, as a Wiltshire shepherd might press his flock along a downland drove. And the regiments, King's and sepoy, battling for good order and military discipline as they began their routine of the siege – proud, colourful, cheery, possessed of self-confidence in limitless quantity. Hervey knew that he and his men had saved them blood, and he was glad of it also because the mounted arm would after all be able to look the infantry in the eye in this affair of digging and then the bayonet.
What a scene it was. In Agra and Muttra he had known its individual elements, but only now did it appear to him as a whole. It was a scene from many a picture he had thrilled to in his youth -the Crusades, the Hundred Years' War, Cromwell and the King, the Peninsula. It mattered not where, for the principle was the same: the paraphernalia of the siege, the methodical, patient, painful marshalling of resources, and then their remorseless application, until the besieged struck their colours or had them torn down, or else the besieger, his resources exhausted, struck camp and stole away. Only the detail of the brown-skinned servants and camp followers – the sutlers, dhobi-men, sweepers, bhistis, syces, Lascars and countless others – gave the scene its place.
Hervey nodded modestly to the salutes and well-wishers. His troop were less restrained in their acknowledgements. Enjoy it for the moment, he thought; the monotony of the siege will soon dull the remembrance. But, oh indeed, it had been a very fine affair at the Motee Jheel, and nothing could take from them the rightful sense of victory, if only as local as their leader's rank. But two days later it seemed that the monotony of the siege would have them all exchange places with any man elsewhere than at Bhurtpore. Major Joynson read the day's general orders to the captains and staff assembled in his orderly-room tent, a well-made affair the size of a tennis court, twelve feet high and lined with vivid yellow cotton – though the smoke of a wood stove and a dozen cigars rendered the lining not as striking as once it had been: