A touching proof of the affection and respect which his men had for him was most affectingly illustrated after the battle.  There were, as in all armies, ambulance-bearers, whose duty it is to carry in litters the dead and wounded.  For fear of desecration it was decided to send back the dead for burial to Jellalabad and beyond, and a litter was sent for Wigram Battye’s mortal remains.  But the rough warriors whose soldierly hearts he had won would allow of no such cortege.  “Ambulance-bearers may be right and proper for anyone else,” they said; “but our Sahib shall be carried by us soldiers, and by no one else.”  And so reverently they lifted the body of their dead comrade, and through the hot spring night carried it on the first stage towards the sweet spot in Mardan where the brothers Battye lie at rest.

But the silver lining to this dark cloud of loss was the prowess of the young subaltern and the squadron that had fallen to his charge.  “Take ’em on, Walter, my boy,” were his leader’s last words; and right manfully did he obey them.

The plain over which they were advancing was somewhat undulating, covered with loose stones, and intersected here and there by more or less formidable nullahs.  Across this not very promising cavalry country, Hamilton made good way, and was now close enough to the enemy to give the orders, “Gallop, Charge!” With the wild yell which so often, before and since, has struck chill to the heart of an enemy, the Guides dashed forward, the ground scouts checking back for the squadron to come up to them; but just as contact was imminent, a warning signal came from one of these that there was impassable ground in front.  Here was a dilemma!  Large masses of the enemy firing heavily close in front, an obstacle impassable for cavalry between, the guns uncomfortably threatened close by, and the infantry still some way off!  Happily, however, it takes a good deal to stop a brave young Irishman with such men behind him.  A second or two brought them to the obstacle, and sure enough it was no cold-blooded chance; a sheer nine foot drop into the dry bed of a stream, and opposite, with only a few yards interval, another sheer cliff, and on top of that an exulting and frenzied enemy!  Without a moment’s hesitation Hamilton jumped into the gulf, and after him, scrambling, sliding, jumping, anyhow and nohow, like a pack of hounds, streamed his fierce following.  Like hounds, too, hot on the trail, they tarried not a moment there, but scattering up and down the nullah singly, or in clumps of two or three, found egress somehow.  And then came death, and the Prophet’s Paradise, to many a brave soul.  From here and there, from front and right and left, by ones and twos, by threes and fours, charged home the gallant horsemen; and at their head, alone with his trumpeter, rode Hamilton.  So rough and determined an onslaught would shake the nerves of even disciplined troops; but undrilled and undisciplined levies, however brave individually, cannot hope to stand the fiery blast of determined cavalry charging home.  And so the great crowd broke, and for four long miles the pursuit continued, till man and horse alike were worn and tired, and arms became too stiff to strike or parry, and steeds yet willing staggered to a standstill.