The Capture of Mauritius

Mauritius Times – 70 Years

By Bhisma Dev

Readers of Advance may have come across the letter published in The Times (London) by Field Marshal Sir Claude Auchinleck, concerning the British capture of Mauritius in 1810. This episode, though significant, remains a relatively obscure chapter in our island’s history. One of the earliest references to it appears in Mr. K. Hazareesingh’s History of Indians in Mauritius — a book I frequently consult and one I believe would interest readers of this journal. What follows is a recounting of this episode, largely based on Hazareesingh’s work and the reflections of Sir Claude Auchinleck.

View from the Deck of the Upton Castle Transport of the British Army Landing. Pic – Bonhams18942

The conquest of Mauritius by the British is a proud and often overlooked moment in the history of Indian troops serving under the British flag. It deserves attention, for scarcely any local history book has adequately acknowledged “the zeal, fidelity and military spirit by which their conduct was distinguished on this important occasion.”

Before the campaign for Mauritius began, it was decided to seize the small island of Rodrigues, located a few hundred miles to the east-northeast. A small detachment of European and Indian soldiers under Lieutenant-Colonel Keating landed there in early 1809. A few months later, Keating, with the support of Captain Rowley of the Royal Navy, sailed from Rodrigues and successfully raided the island of Bourbon (present-day Réunion).

Emboldened by this success, the Government of India resolved to capture all French possessions in the Indian Ocean. For this purpose, an expeditionary force was raised, consisting mainly of troops from Bombay, Bengal, Madras, and Ceylon. One officer who served in the operation described it as “the grandest, in all respects — whether in effective strength, discipline, or equipment — ever afloat on the Indian seas.” The force was 10,000 strong.

According to records from the War Ministry, the expedition reached Rodrigues on 6th November 1810, where the Bombay contingent had already arrived. The Bengal contingent followed on the 21st. On 29th November, the combined forces anchored at Grand Bay in the north of Mauritius and disembarked that very afternoon without encountering resistance.

The distribution of the troops was as follows:

• First Brigade: Lieutenant-Colonel Picton (H.M.’s 12th Regiment), including the right wing of the Madras Volunteer Battalion.
• Second Brigade: Lieutenant-Colonel Gibbs (H.M.’s 59th), with the 300th and 89th Regiments, one company of the 87th, and the left wing of the Madras Volunteer Battalion.
• Third Brigade: Lieutenant-Colonel Kelso (H.M.’s 14th), with the 2nd Bengal Volunteers.
• Fourth Brigade: Lieutenant-Colonel McLeod (H.M.’s 69th), with Royal Marines (300), and flank companies of the 6th and 12th Madras Native Infantry.
• Fifth Brigade: Lieutenant-Colonel Smith (H.M.’s 65th), with a troop of H.M.’s 25th Dragoons, H.M.’s 65th, and the 1st Bengal Volunteers.
• Reserve Brigade: Lieutenant-Colonel Keating.
• Additional Flank Companies: From H.M.’s 12th, 33rd, 84th, 56th, 14th, and 39th Regiments, and a detachment of Bombay Infantry under Captain Inlach.

Upon sighting the fleet, French troops stationed at Fort Malartic abandoned their post and retreated toward Port Louis. The Fifth Brigade was ordered to secure the landing site and follow with ammunition and supplies the next day. The remaining forces advanced about five miles inland and bivouacked for the night.

During this initial march, the reserve brigade, leading the column, came under fire as it emerged from the woods into open ground. The enemy, however, withdrew without significant resistance. Colonel Keating and Lieutenant Ashe of the 12th were wounded, and two men were killed in the skirmish.

On 30th November, the advance resumed, but extreme heat forced the troops to halt and encamp at Moulin-à-Poudre, about six miles from Port Louis. That afternoon, a reconnaissance party led by General Decaen attacked the British pickets, forcing them to withdraw. Reinforcements soon arrived, and the British drove back the enemy with losses on both sides.

Before dawn on 1st December, Colonel McLeod was sent with his brigade to secure the batteries at the Bays of Tortue and Tombeau, about two miles to the right of the main route. The operation was successfully executed.

Around 5 a.m., the main force resumed its advance toward Port Louis but met resistance at the Tombeau River. Around 300 French troops with two field guns attempted to block the crossing. They were quickly routed, and the British crossed the bridge. However, since the bridge was partially destroyed, the artillery had to be rerouted via a ford downstream, delaying the advance. Major O’Keefe of H.M.’s 12th was killed during this operation.

Further resistance was encountered at the River Seche, where Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell, commander of the European Flank Battalion, was killed. The French were again repelled, suffering about 10 casualties, and were pursued to the River Lataniers near the town’s outworks. There, British troops withdrew to avoid fire from the town’s batteries and encamped for the night.

On the morning of 2nd December, a flag of truce was sent by the French, and terms of capitulation were agreed upon. The formal surrender took place on 3rd December. The entire island was ceded, along with a considerable stockpile of military and naval stores. A total of 209 pieces of heavy ordnance were recovered from the French positions.

History bears witness that Indians not only helped to build Mauritius — they also helped to conquer it.

*  *  *

From Coalmine to Westminster

By K. J.

The death of Aneurin Bevan did not necessarily come as a shock. Over the past two years, his health had steadily deteriorated, and his recent illness sealed his fate. Tributes have poured in from both friends and foes, and without pomp or ceremony, his remains were cremated in Tredegar, his native town.

It is true that his passing deprives the British Labour Party of one of its foremost leaders. Equally true is that the House of Commons has lost one of its liveliest and most formidable figures. As yet, no one has emerged who can truly fill the void he leaves behind. But to claim that he can never be replaced, or to mourn his passing with the usual sentimental clichés, would be misguided. For, like it or not, the inexorable logic of history reminds us constantly that no one is indispensable to any cause. Bevan is no more, but the British labour movement — so deeply marked by his personality — moves on. In time, he may be forgotten. Not out of ingratitude, but as the French saying goes: loin des yeux, loin du cœur — out of sight, out of mind.

Yet Bevan’s life and career remain deeply significant. To describe his story as inspirational is no empty platitude. Consider this: he began life as a coal miner at the age of 13, almost illiterate, plagued by a crippling stammer — and yet he rose to become the only Briton to rival, and at times surpass, the oratorical heights of Winston Churchill. If Bevan is remembered for founding the National Health Service, he must also be remembered for having on occasion, jeopardised the unity of the Labour Party. If he is recalled as a fierce opponent of Toryism, he cannot be forgotten as a symbol of working-class emancipation. For when all is said and done, Bevan remained, at heart and in spirit, a proletarian.

Bevan was born into an era when Britain ruled a vast empire and basked in prosperity. But that prosperity was unevenly distributed: it remained concentrated at the top of the social pyramid, while conditions at the base were grim. Child labour was widespread, education was out of reach for many, and the mining communities endured appalling conditions. When Bevan entered the coalmines, he came face to face with the brutal reality of working-class life and witnessed firsthand the arrogance of employers who saw little difference between tools and workers. With the fervour of Welsh nationalism in the air and an innate refusal to accept blatant injustice, the revolutionary within him began to stir. But he faced a formidable barrier: how could he voice his indignation when he could barely speak?

A stammerer cannot easily aspire to become a revolutionary — or so it would seem. But Bevan resolved to overcome this crippling impediment. He possessed indomitable will. And it was this same stammering youth who, years later, would rise in the House of Commons — after a typically brilliant speech by Churchill — and declare: “The mediocrity of his (Churchill’s) thinking is concealed by the majesty of his language!”

After six gruelling years in the mines — during which he spent nights poring over history books — Bevan became the spokesperson for his fellow miners. That role set him on the path to Westminster, where he gained international recognition and rendered invaluable service to his country. As Minister of Health in Attlee’s 1945 Cabinet, he made history by founding the National Health Service — an achievement that remains the crowning glory of his career.

In the subsequent, short-lived Labour Cabinet, he resigned — ostensibly over the size of the rearmament budget, but in reality, it was in protest against the imposition of charges on dentures and spectacles, which were previously provided free. This rift widened the gulf between Bevan and his colleagues, led by Gaitskell. When Attlee retired, the Labour Party became a house divided, with Bevan and Gaitskell each leading a faction. This uneasy state persisted until 1955, when it began to dawn on Bevan — and perhaps on Gaitskell too — that a united party was preferable to persistent division. This realisation marked the symbolic “death of Bevanism.”

The Manchester Guardian was therefore right to note that Bevan’s death deprives the Labour Party of its best chance at unity. For while Bevan is gone, there remain many who still carry the torch of his ideals — the Bevanites.

7th Year – No 307
Friday 15th July 1960

Mauritius Times ePaper Friday 6 June 2025