The position of the British was most serious; the whereabouts of the divisions of Sir Harry Smith and General Littler could not be discovered, and the other two divisions, thinned by their losses, might be attacked in the morning by a vastly superior force, for it was probable that Tej Singh with his army would arrive during the night. The Sikhs had withdrawn their guns as the British rushed forward to the assault, so that their artillery was still intact, and as soon as they found that their intrenchments were evacuated they advanced and kept up a continuous fire of cannon and musketry at the unseen foe, who were lying but a hundred and fifty yards away. The fire of one of the batteries was so destructive that Sir Henry Hardinge mounted his horse and called to the 80th Regiment:
"My lads, we shall have no sleep until we take those guns." The regiment leapt to its feet and at once advanced, and, supported by the 1st Bengal Europeans, again stormed the intrenchments, drove the Sikhs from their guns, spiked them, and retired.
Percy had had nothing to do during the advance, but when the orders were given for the troops to retire he had assisted to carry them to the different regiments, as the whole of Sir Henry Hardinge’s staff, with the exception of his son, had been killed or wounded, as had most of those of Sir Hugh Gough. Major Broadfoot had fallen. Captain Nicholson, assistant political agent, was also killed, and indeed all the political agents with one exception were either killed or wounded. Percy had felt almost bewildered with the roar and din of the battle; but the feeling of excitement was so great, that although officer after officer fell round him the thought of danger to himself scarcely entered his mind. He mechanically followed with the rest of the staff as the general had ridden hither and thither along the line, but he felt almost as one in a dream until he was called upon with all the rest of the officers round the general to carry orders to the troops to retire.
On his return from this duty, Sir Henry Hardinge begged of him to ride off and to try and discover the whereabouts of the missing divisions; and, accompanied by his two men, who had kept a short distance behind him during the fight, and had both escaped unwounded, he rode about for some hours in the jungle, but without success. He was, indeed, himself lost, and at last threw himself off his horse to wait till morning should show him the bearings of the enemy’s camp. But few words had been exchanged between him and his followers during the ride, for he was still dazed by the battle, and was parched with thirst and exhausted by fatigue and emotion.