Nalapani: A Hill Once Red

It would be unthinkable for an author of popular novels to have the hero die on the first page of the book. It would violate the grammar of a good plot to an entertaining story. But epic battles are not scripted by pens of writers but by blood drops on hallowed grounds.

Nalapani would have been different in its emotions and haunting appeal had the two protagonists been other than Major General Rollo Gillespie and Balbhadra Kunwar, or even if the battle had been fought between two other nations.

Major General Rollo Gillespie.

Balbhadra Kunwar

Gillespie, 48, and Balbhadra, 25, were men in their prime, one at peak of his career, the other capable of achieving anything that he put his mind and might to. The two newly emergent imperialistic and expansionist powers in the sub-continent were at the end of the 18th century on a collision path. The British, rather the East India Company, avaricious to the core and relentless in its pursuit of pelf, saw the region as its private burrow. The rising Gorkha power after dominating Nepal’s mountainous valleys sought more territorial gains in contiguous territories to its west and the south. The two adversaries were facing the inevitable if not unenviable situation on their presumed borders.

The East India Company after establishing a comfortable foothold in parts of India sought to expand further its business tentacles to the north and connect to the Chinese markets by routes going through Nepal and Tibet. In this, they did not find the Nepalese willing partners. On the contrary, they were rudely jolted to see their northern neighbour aggressively pushing its own boundaries southward and to the west. All attempts by the British failed to get them to cut ice with the Nepalese court in Kathmandu and diplomatic means continued to draw a blank. Pretexts were sought and easily given by the Nepalese, and Lord Moira, the Governor General, issued an ultimatum which the Nepalese held in contempt.

Border tensions became heightened at Purnea, Tirhut, Sargun, Bareilly, Gorakhpur and Dehradun.

A four pronged attack was prepared by the British to put pressure on the Nepalese court, dominated by the Gorkhas, who had been behind the rapid expansion of their borders across into present Uttarakhand, Himachal and pushing further towards Kashmir. This expansion of Nepalese territory was approximately two hundred times in a matter of a generation, making the Gorkha leadership defy further the British sabre-rattling.

In all this turbulence, Dehradun under Gorkhas since 1804 became a flashpoint and the first battle zone of the Anglo - Gorkha war of 1814-1815.

Layout of Khalunga Battlefield

One popular view was that the British army’s arrival at the borders of the Doon Valley was not anticipated correctly by the Gorkhas and that they moved hurriedly to garrison themselves at Khalunga situated atop Nalapani. But the fact is that the Gorkhali commander in Doon, Balbhadra Kunwar, had been following the developing tensions since May 1814, almost six months before the siege and attack on Khalunga by the British forces. The astute Gorkhali commander had taken adequate measures to thwart the British and the same became most painfully etched in the minds of the British. The British bravado and over confidence in their superior military resources, natural to them having successfully campaigned against Napoleon Bonaparte in Europe, was not of much avail when asking Balbhadra Kunwar to surrender and hand over the Khalunga Fort. The rebuff by Balbhadra Kunwar to the Bristish has been played down in their records but that is another story.

The British forces entering the Doon through Timli and Kheri passes and proceeding to the tableland facing Khalunga were astounded by the difficulty of the approach to the 3,268 feet rudimentary pentangular fortification at Khalunga but stockaded to strengthen the defences.

Khalunga Memorial atop Nalapani

The approach to the Khalunga Fort was steep, to say the least, besides, the slopes were heavily wooded with ubiquitous Silva of Sal trees. The fort, itself, barring the southern access, was protected by precipitous cliffs to the north and the west. While the tree cover denied the British clear line of sight, nullifying to some extent the superior artillery and reconnaissance, the readily available timber made the Gorkhali task easier to put up effective forward stockades and pickets dotting the slopes right down to the Nalapani village at the foot of the Khalunga. The first reverses to the British in the early days of the battle were on these stockaded slopes and then heavier losses in men and morale were experienced outside the gates of Khalunga.

The incessant pounding of the fort by British batteries since the night of 31st October, 1814, was causing casualties to the fighting men and women and children, but it did not deter the Gorkhali from retaliation of a fearsome kind that shook the resolve of many of the seasoned veterans of the enemy. The Irish Dragoons faced the heavy but sharp khukris of the Gorkhas just outside the Khalunga and eighty-eight lay wounded and four dead.

The furious Gillespie was for avenging the massacre of the Dragoons and for teaching the “recalcitrant Gorkhas” a lesson, but a second assault was again repulsed and the limping wounded returning only angered the impetuous Gillespie further.

The regular repulse of assaults by the Gorkhas was to Gillespie loss of face for the British arms, forcing him to courageously but also recklessly personally lead his troops uphill, breathless but determined to breach the fort’s walls. Eye witness accounts credit him for his bravery and commitment as he was just thirty yards from the walls of the fort when a musket shot to his chest ended his legendary career on the blood soaked foreground of Khalunga.

To the Gorkhas under Balbhadra Kunwar must go the credit of not relenting despite incessant shelling from the artillery guns that pulverised many defenders inside their fort. Of the six hundred inside the fort, four hundred were fighting men, the rest being women and children. Less than a hundred survived but were not demoralised even as their band is said to have played: O Nepali Sar Unchali (Gorkhalis keep your heads high). Not a single British soldier was able to enter Khalunga while Balbhadra Kunwar and his braves held it. They could do so only once the Gorkhas vacated the fort not because of loss of life but because the Achilles heel of the Gorkhas was the inconvenient water supply which was finally cut off by the British based on local intelligence. Eighty-four fit men evacuated the fort at Khalunga in the last few days of November to join other Gorkha forces at Jaithak in Himachal.

Nalapani Obelisks , 1877. Courtesy National Army Museum, London

As Balbhadra Kunwar moved out of the Khalunga, he is stated to have said: To capture the Fort was a thing forbidden but now I leave of my own accord. The “Gorkha Leonid” marched with dignity to lead his surviving force through the village of Duwara to Chamba and on to Jaithak in Nahan. Despite the fight to the last with fury and courage, it is to the credit of the Gorkhas that the British dead were not mutilated or disgraced but handed with dignity for last rites to the British. Lord Moira wanted to erase any memory of this pyrrhic victory and ordered the destruction of the fort and on 2nd December, 1814, Colonel Mawbey carried out the orders. Today, no traces remain of this historic fort, where now stands a memorial to the valour of the Gorkhas enshrining in memory for all time the blood that drenched the hallowed ground atop the Nalapani hill.