Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 367, May 1846

by Various

In English Hexameters.

[The author of the version of the Last Book of the Iliad, in the Number for March, has been requested by the editor of this Magazine to give another specimen; and, as he happens to have the First Book completed, he is happy to comply.

In case any one unacquainted with the original, and familiar with Homer only through the brilliant rifacimento of Pope, should complain of the redundancies and repetitions which he meets here, let the writer remind him that the attempt is to render the ancient poet, not only in a measure framed on the basis of his own, but as nearly as possible with a literal fidelity. Moreover, be it remembered, that the poem was not composed for readers, but to be sung with the accompaniment of the harp in festive assemblies of wholly illiterate soldiers; and that, in all probability, the various speeches introduced were not all chanted by the main voice; but that brother minstrels from time to time relieved the master, as he himself describes the Muses at the Olympian banquet, "with sweet voice singing alternate."

The writer received from Messrs Blackwood, with the proof-sheet of the following contribution, two books of the Iliad, the second and the seventh, done in English hexameters, "by Launcellot Shadwell, formerly Fellow of St John's College, Cambridge," with the imprint of Mr Pickering, London, 1844. This gentleman is probably a son of the Vice-Chancellor of England, and, if so, has been trained in a good school of taste as well as scholarship. But whether his hexameters have been published, does not appear: the writer had not heard of them before; and he begs to thank Mr Shadwell for his polite attention.

London, April 6th.]

N. N. T.

Sing, O Goddess! the wrath unblest of Peleian Achilleus,
Whence the uncountable woes that were heapt on the host of Achaia;
Whence many valorous spirits of heroes, untimely dissever'd,
Down unto Hades were sent, and themselves to the dogs were a plunder
And all fowls of the air; but the counsel of Zeus was accomplish'd:
Even from the hour when at first were in fierceness of rivalry sunder'd
Atreus' son, the Commander of Men, and the noble Achilleus.
Who of the Godheads committed the twain in the strife of contention?
Leto's offspring and Zeus'; who, in anger against Agamemnon,
Issued the pestilence dire, and the leaguer was swept with destruction;
For that the King had rejected, and spurn'd from the place in dishonour
Chryses, the priest of the God, when he came to the warrior-galleys,
Willing to rescue his daughter with plentiful gifts of redemption,
Bearing the fillet divine in his hands of the Archer Apollo
Twined on the sceptre of gold: and petition'd the host of Achaia,
Foremost of all the Atreidæ, the twain that were chief in dominion:—
"Hear, ye Atreidæ! and hear, ye Achaians, resplendent in armour!
Be it vouchsaf'd unto you of the Gods who inhabit Olympus,
Priamus' city to storm, and return to your dwellings in gladness!
But now yield me my daughter belov'd, and accept of the ransom,
Bearing respect to the offspring of Zeus, Far-darting Apollo."
Then had it voice of approval from all the array of Achaians
Duly to honour the priest and accept fair gifts of redemption;
Only displeas'd in his mind was the King Agamemnon Atreides:
Stern the rejection from him, and ungentle his word at the parting:—
"Let me not see thee again, old man, at the station of galleys,
Lingering wilfully now, nor returning among us hereafter,
Lest neither sceptre of gold nor the wreath of the God may avail thee.
Her will I never surrender, be sure, until age has attain'd her
Far from the land of her birth, in our own habitation of Argos,
Plying the task of her web and attending the couch of her master.
Hence with thee! Stir me no more: the return to thy home were the safer."
So did he speak; and the elder, in terror, obey'd the commandment.
Silent he went on his way, where the sea-waves roar'd on the sand-beach,
Till at a distance remote, when the voice of his strong supplication
Call'd on Apollo the King, that was born of the ringleted Leto:—
"Hear me, Protector divine, both of Chrysa and beautiful Killa,
God of the silvery bow, over Tenedos mightily reigning!
Smintheus! Hear, if my hand ever garnish'd thy glorious temple,
Crowning the horns of the altar with beauty, and burning before thee
Fatness of bulls or of goats: hear now, and fulfill my petition.
Oh, let the Argives atone for my tears by the shafts of thy quiver!"
So did he speak; and Apollo gave ear to the prayer of his servant.
He from the peaks of Olympus descended, his bosom in anger,
Bearing on shoulder the bow and the well-fenc'd girth of his quiver.
Rattled the arrows therein on the back of the Deity wrathful,
Step upon step as he moved; but he came like the darkness of Nightfall.
Then did he seat him apart from the ships, and discharging an arrow,
Fearful afar was the clang of the silvery bow of Apollo.
Mules, at the first, were his aim, and the swiftness of dogs was arrested;
But on themselves, right soon, with the sure-wing'd darts of destruction
Smote he, and wide on the shore was the flame of continual death-fires.
Nine days' space, on the leaguer the shafts of the Godhead were flying;
Then, on the tenth, were the people convok'd by the noble Achilleus,
Mov'd unto this, in his mind, by the Goddess majestical Hera,
For she was griev'd in her heart at the sight of the dying Achaians.
But when the host were conven'd, thus spake swift-footed Peleides:—
"Wand'ring again is our doom, as it seems to my mind, Agamemnon!
Home to escape as we may, unless death be the issue to welcome,
Since not the battle alone, but the pestilence wastes the Achaians.
Come, without witless delay, let some prophet or priest be consulted,
Yea, or expounder of dreams, (for the dream, too, comes from Kronion,)
Who may interpret the wrath unrelenting of Phœbus Apollo;
Whether for forfeited vow we are plagu'd, or for hecatomb wanting:
If peradventure by savour of lambs or of goats without blemish
Anger divine may be sooth'd, and the pestilence turn'd from the people."
He, having spoke, sat down; and arose Thestorian Calchas,
Prophet supreme among all, in the secrets of augury foremost;
He that to Ilion's borders conducted the ships of Achaia,
Such was the lore of the Seer by the blessing of Phœbus Apollo.
He, with the counsel of wisdom, arose in the midst to address them:—
"Favour'd of Zens!" he began, "thou commandest me, noble Achilleus,
Here to interpret the wrath of the King, Far-darting Apollo.
That will I therefore declare; but vouchsafe me, and swear to confirm it,
Promptness and constancy true in the word and the hand of protection;
For when I utter the cause, unto anger, I know, will be kindled
He that of Argos is lord and obey'd in the host of Achaia.
Heavy the hand of a king when the humble provokes his resentment;
Say that he masters his mood, and the day of offending be scatheless,
Yet shall he nurture the wrath thenceforth, till he perfect the vengeance,
Deep in his bosom within. Speak thou, if the will be to save me."
This was the answer he had, without pause, from the noble Peleides:—
"Speak with a confident heart whatsoever thy scrutiny reaches;
For by Apollo I swear, by the Son of the Highest Kronion,
None to whom thou shalt discover the truth of prophetical warning,
Calling the Gods to attest—while I live, and mine eyes are undarken'd,
None shall, for that revelation, lay hand of oppression upon thee;
None of the Danäids all that are camp'd by the station of galleys—
Even if thou name Agamemnon, the first of the host in dominion."
Then the unblamable Seer took heart, and bespake the Assembly:—
"Neither for forfeited vow is he wroth, nor for hecatomb wanting;
But for the sake of his priest, who, dishonour'd by King Agamemnon,
Pray'd for his daughter in vain, and the gifts that he brought were rejected;
Therefore, the Archer Divine has afflicted, and more will afflict us,
Nor shall the weight of his hand be remov'd in the pestilence wasting,
Not till the Dark-eyed Maid is restor'd to the love of her father,
Free, without ransoming price—and a hecatomb holy to Chrysa
Sent for atonement of wrong: peradventure we then may appease him."
He, having spoke, sat down: and anon, in the midst of the princes,
Rose the heroic Atreides, the wide-sway'd lord, Agamemnon:
Troubled in visage he rose, for the heart with the blackness of anger
Swell'd in the breast of the King, and his eyes had the blaze of the firebrand.
First to the Seer did he turn, and austere was the scowl when he nam'd him:
"Prophet of evils! to me never word of thy mouth has been grateful;
Gladness it sheds ever more on thy spirit to prophesy mischief.
Never had good its announcement from thee, its accomplishment never!
Here, then, art thou, with thy sanctified lore, in the leaguer proclaiming
All the afflictions we bear from the anger of Archer Apollo
Only from this to have sprung, that I gave not the damsel Chrysëis
Back for the gifts that were brought:—for I valued her more than the ransom,
Will'd her to stay in my home, and preferr'd her before Clytemnestra,
Her that I wedded a maid—nor in aught would comparison harm her,
Neither for form nor for face, nor for mind nor the skill of her fingers.
Yet even so am I willing to yield her, if this be the better:
Weal I desire for the people, and not their calamity lengthen'd.
But on the instant make ready a guerdon for me, that of Argives
I be not prizeless alone—methinks that of a truth were unseemly—
All of ye witnessing this, that the prize I obtain'd is to leave me."
Thus to him instantly answer'd the swift-footed noble Peleides:—
"Foremost in fame, Agamemnon, in greediness, too, thou art foremost.
Whence can a prize be assign'd by the generous host of Achaia?
Nowhere known unto us is a treasure of common possessions:
All that we took with a town was distributed right on the capture;
Nor is it seemly for states to resume and collect their allotments.
Render the maid to the God, and expect from the sons of Achaia
Threefold recompense back, yea fourfold, soon as Kronion
Grants us to waste and abolish the well-wall'd city of Troia."
So the Peleides—and thus, in reply, said the King Agamemnon:—
"Good as thou art in the dealings of battle, most noble Achilleus,
Try not the engines of craft; to come over me thus is beyond thee.
This the suggestion forsooth that, thyself being safe with thy booty,
I shall sit down without mine! I am bid to surrender the damsel:
This is the word—and 'tis well, if the generous host of Achaia
Yield me a prize in her stead that is fair and affords me contentment;
But if ye grant me not this, be it known, I will do myself justice—
Seizing what Aias obtain'd, or despoiling the tent of Odysseus;
Yea, peradventure, thine own—whatsoever the rage of the loser.
These, of a surety, are things to be duly consider'd hereafter;
Meantime, down to the deep let a black-hull'd galley be hauser'd,
Oarsmen selected and rang'd, and the hecatomb stow'd for the temple—
Mine be the care to accomplish the freight with the rosy Chrysëis.
Last, be some counsellor-chief for command of the galley appointed—
Whether Idomeneus be it, or Aias, or noble Odysseus,
Yea, or, Peleides, thyself, among terrible warriors foremost!
So shall by thee be achiev'd the appeasing of Archer Apollo."
Dark was the scowl of Achilles the rapid, as thus he made answer:—
"Oh! thou in impudence clothed! O heart, that is ever on lucre!
How can the words of thy mouth stir zeal in a single Achaian
Either to march in thy train, or to stand in the fierceness of onset?
Truly I came not, for one, out of hate for the spearmen of Troia,
Hither to battle with them—neither feud nor offence was between us.
Never Dardanian foray had plunder'd my beeves nor my horses,
Never on Phthia descending, in Thessaly's bountiful borders,
Ravag'd the fruits of the field—since betwixt there was many a barrier,
Shadowy mountains enow, and the roaring expanses of ocean.
Only to gratify thee, Dog-face! and avenge Menelaus,
Mov'd us to war upon Troy; and with thee it is counted for nothing!
Masterful menace instead that by thee my reward shall be ravish'd,
Won with the sweat of my brow, and assign'd by the sons of Achaia!
Truly my share of the booty was never with thine to be measur'd
When the Achaians had sackt any populous town of the Troad:
Only when shock upon shock the turmoil of the battle was raging,
Greater the work of my hands; but whenever we reacht the division
Far did thy portion surpass. Nor has grudging been mine or complaining:
Weary with warring, and pleas'd with a little, I went to my galley.
Homeward to Thessaly, now!—I shall profit, I think, by departing—
Nor if I stay in dishonour, will heaping of plunder oppress thee."
Thus on the instant replied the Commander of Men, Agamemnon:—
"Flee, if to that thou be minded: expect not from me a petition
Here for my service to stop. Beside thee I have some to befriend me
Now and hereafter: in chief, the Olympian's counselling foresight.
Hatefullest ever to me hast thou been of the kings of Achaia;
Nothing delighted thee e'er but contention and battle and bloodshed;
And if thy strength be unmatcht, it is due to the gift of a Godhead.
Hence with thee!—hence to thy home flee thou with thy ships and thy comrades!
There over Myrmidons lord it; with me there is small estimation
Either of thee or thy wrath; and take this for completing my menace:
Since I am reft of Chrysëis for pleasing of Phœbus Apollo,
Now, in a ship of mine own, and with men of mine own for attendance,
Her will I send; but anon will I go and, within thy pavilion,
Seize on the rosy Brisëis, thy guerdon—instructing thee clearly
How I surpass thee in power, and that others beside may be cautious
Neither to match them with me, or confront with the boldness of equals!"
So did he speak: and the word had a sting; and the heart of Achilleus,
Under the hair of his bosom, in tearing perplexity ponder'd,
Whether unsheathing the sword from his thigh, to disperse interveners,
Clearing the way at a swoop, and to strike at the life of Atreides,
Or to control his resentment and master the fury within him.
But as he struggled with thought and the burning confusion of impulse,
Even as he mov'd in the scabbard his ponderous weapon, Athena
Stood by, darting from heaven: for the white-arm'd Hera had sent her,
She that had eyes on them both with a loving and equal concernment.
Lighting behind him, she graspt at the thick fair curls of Peleides,
Visible only to him, undiscover'd by all that surrounded.
Fear on Achilleus fell, and he turn'd to her, instantly knowing
Pallas Athena, for awful the eyes of the goddess apparent—
And he address'd her, and these were the air-wing'd words that he utter'd.
"Why hast thou come, O child of the Ægis-bearing Kronion?
Is it to see me contemn'd by the insolent pride of Atreides?
This do I promise beside, and thine eyes shall behold it accomplish'd,
Here where he sits Agamemnon shall pay for his scorn with his life-blood."
This was the answer to him of the blue-eyed Pallas Athena:—
"Willing to temper thy mood, (if perchance thou be ready to listen,)
Down from the heavens have I come at the call of majestical Hera,
Her who has eyes on you both with a loving and equal concernment.
Therefore from violence cease, nor persist in unsheathing the weapon:
Wound him with words at thy pleasure—in that let it fall as it chances.
Only of this be assur'd, for thyself shall behold it accomplish'd,
Threefold yet shall the King in magnificent gifts of atonement
Pay for the scorn of to-day; but restrain thee and yield to my warning."
Thus, in reply to Athena, said instantly noble Achilleus:—
"Me of a surety beseems it, O Goddess, to bend to thy counsel,
Fierce as mine anger may be; it is wiser to keep the commandment.
They that submit to the Gods shall be heard when they make supplication."
Press'd on the silvery hilt as he spake was the weight of his right hand,
Back to the scabbard returning the terrible blade; nor obedience
He to Athena refus'd; and she sprang from his side to Olympus,
Up to the mansion of Zeus, to rejoin the assembly of Godheads.
Then did Achilles begin to reproach Agamemnon Atreides,
Hotly with venomous words, for as yet unappeased was his anger:—
"Bloated with wine! having eyes like a dog, but the heart of a she-deer!
Never with harness on back to be first when the people were arming,
Never in dark ambuscado to lie with the few and the fearless,
Courage exalted thy soul; this seems to thee courtship of death-doom.
Truly 'tis better by far in the wide-spread Danäid leaguer
Robbing of guerdon achiev'd whosoe'er contradicts thee in presence!
People-devouring king! O fortunate captain of cowards—
Else, Agamemnon, to-day would have witness'd the last of thine outrage!
But I proclaim it before thee, and great is the oath that shall bind it—
Now by this rod, which can never put forth or a twig or a leaflet,
Since it was parted for aye from the root of its growth in the mountains,
Never to germinate more, in the hour when the brass of the woodman
Sever'd the bark and the sap: but the chiefs that administer judgment,
Guarding the law of the Gods, as a sign to the sons of Achaia
Bear it in hand:—upon this do I swear, and severe is the sanction!
Rue for Achilles hereafter shall rise in the Danäid leaguer:—
Bitter the yearning shall be—nor in thee, howsoever afflicted,
Succour be found at their need—but remorse shall be raging within thee,
Tearing thy heart that by thee was the best of Achaians dishonour'd."
Speaking he dash'd on the ground, in the midst of the people, his sceptre,
Garnish'd with circles of gold; down sat thereafter Peleides.
Opposite rose Agamemnon in wrath; but before he could open,
Upsprang Nestor between them, the sweet-ton'd spokesman of Pylos:
Sweeter the speech of his tongue in its flow than the sweetness of honey.
Two generations complete of the blood of articulate mankind,
Nurtur'd and rear'd in his view, unto death in their turn had been gather'd;
Now he was king for a third in the bountiful region of Pylos.
He, with beneficent thoughts, in the midst of them rose and address'd them:—
"Woe to me! great is the grief that has come on the land of Achaia!
Great of a surety for Priam the joy and the children of Priam!
Ilion holds not a soul in her bounds but will leap into gladness,
Soon as the tidings go forth that ye two are divided in anger,
Foremost in council among us and foremost of all in the battle!
Hear me while yet there is time: ye are both of ye younger than I am.
I in the days that are past have in fellowship mingled with heroes
Mightier even than you, yet among them I never was slighted.
Never their like did I see, nor shall look on their equals hereafter—
Such as Perithöus was, or as Dryas the shepherd of people,
Kaineus, Exadius too—the compeer of the bless'd, Polyphemus;
Ægeus' glorious son, as a God in his countenance, Theseus.
These of a truth were in might the supreme of the children of mankind;
Mightiest they upon earth and with mightiest foes they contended,
Centaurs nurs'd in the hills, whom in terrible ruin they trampled.
These, the allies of my youth, when I first adventur'd from Pylos,
Far from the Apian land, being call'd of themselves for a comrade.
With them I fought as I could—but against them of earth's generation
None is there breathing to-day that could stand in the tempest of battle;
Yet they admitted me near and attended the words of my counsel.
Hear too, ye, and be sway'd; for in yielding to counsel is wisdom.
Neither do thou, though surpassing in station, lay hand on the damsel;
Leave her, as giv'n at the first by the voice of the sons of Achaia.
Nor let thy spirit, Peleides, excite thee to stand in contention,
Scornfully facing the King:—for of all that inherit the sceptre
He is the highest, and Zeus with pre-eminent glory adorns him.
Be it, thy strength is the greater, thy birth from the womb of a Goddess,
Still is his potency more because more are beneath his dominion.
Thou, Agamemnon, give pause to thine anger; myself I entreat thee:
Master the wrath, O King, that divides thee from noble Achilleus,
Ever in murderous war great bulwark for all the Achaians."
These were the answering words of the chief in the host, Agamemnon—
"Verily, elder rever'd, there is grace in whatever thou speakest,
But this man is resolv'd to be first over all and in all things;
All to his dictating word must submit themselves—all to his kingship—
He with his nod to command—which I think will have scanty approval.
Might in his spear if there be by the gift of the Gods everlasting,
Do they uphold him for that in the measureless railing of insult?"
Him, with a sidelong glance, thus answer'd the noble Achilleus:—
"Worthless I well might be call'd, of a surety, and cowardly caitiff,
Yielded I all at a word whensoever it pleas'd thee to dictate.
Such be thy lording with others, but not as to me, Agamemnon!
Waste not thy masterful signs: they shall never command my obedience.
This will I tell thee at once, let my fixt resolution be ponder'd—
Never a hand will I lift to resist for the sake of the damsel,
Neither on thee nor another—ye take what ye formerly granted!
But of whatever besides I possess in the camp of the galleys,
Nothing against my consent shall by thee or another be taken.
Come now—try it thyself, that the test may for all be sufficient,
Seeing how right from thy bosom the black blood streams on my spear-head."
They, having battled it thus in the striving of proud contradiction,
Rose and disperst the assembly of men at the ships of Achaia.
Then to his tents and the line of his galleys, the noble Peleides
Went with Menœtius' son and the rest of his comrades attending;
While from the beach to the water, a galley surpassing in swiftness
Drew Agamemnon the king, and selected a score for her oarsmen.
Then in the depth of her hull was the hecatomb placed for Apollo,
And he conducted himself to embark with them, rosy Chrysëis;
Lastly, to govern the voyage, ascended sagacious Odysseus;
Then being rang'd in the galley they sail'd on the watery courses.
But the Atreides commanded the people to purification,
And when they all had been cleans'd, and the sea had receiv'd the pollutions,
Hecatombs whole to Apollo of bulls and of goats without blemish
Bled for the purified host, on the margin of harvestless ocean,
Sending the savour to heaven in the wreaths of the smoke from the altar.
Busied herein was the leaguer—yet not in the King Agamemnon
Enmity ceas'd, nor the pride to fulfil what his anger had menaced.
He to Talthybius now and Eurybates spake his commission,
Heralds of royal command, ever near him in ministry watchful:—
"Pass, ye twain, to the right to the tent of Peleian Achilleus,
Enter and take with your hands, and conduct to me hither Brisëis.
If he refuses to yield her, myself will accomplish the seizure,
Following swiftly with more, which may chance to embitter his grudging."
Loth, they obey'd him; and pass'd by the rim of the harvestless ocean,
On to the Myrmidon tents and the black-hull'd ship of Peleides.
Near to his tent and his galley they found him seated; nor truly,
Viewing the twain as they came, did the sight bring joy to Achilleus.
Fearful were they meanwhile—and, in awe of the kingly Peleides,
Halted in silence, nor spake to salute him, nor utter'd the message,
But in his mind it was clearly discover'd; and thus he address'd them:—
"Hail to ye, heralds! of Zeus and of men the ambassadors holy!
Freely advance; ye are blameless before me; alone Agamemnon
Guilty, that sends ye to me for demand of the damsel Brisëis.
Noble Patroclus, I pray thee bring forth and surrender the damsel
Here to their guidance—but they—let the heralds themselves be my witness,
Both before Gods ever-blest and the Earth's generation of mortals,
Yea, and the insolent King.—If there ever arises hereafter
Need of my presence to ward the disgrace of impending disaster
Off from the rest—Yea, truly, the insolent raves to his ruin;
Neither the past he recalls, nor has wisdom to judge for the future,
Whence were salvation alone for his host in the war of the seaboard."
So did he speak; and Patroclus, obeying the word of his comrade,
From the pavilion within led forth Brisëis the rosy,
Yielding her up to the twain; and they turn'd again back by the galleys.
Not with her will did the woman attend on their path; but Achilleus
Sat by himself, as the tears roll'd down, and apart from his comrades,
Hard by the surf-white beach, overlooking the blackness of ocean.
There then, lifting his hands, to his mother he urg'd his petition:—
"Since I was born of thee, mother, with fewness of days for my fore-doom,
Surely Olympian Zeus, who is heard in the thunder of Æther,
Owed me in honour to live; but to-day he decrees my abasement.
Open contempt is my portion—for now wide-ruling Atreides
Tramples upon me himself, and has seiz'd and possesses my guerdon."
Thus amid tears did he speak, and the mother majestical heard him,
Sitting afar in the deep by her father the Ancient of Ocean.
Nimbly anon from the foam of the waves like a cloud she ascended,
And she was near to him soon, and she sat by him where he lamented,
Softly caress'd with her hand on his cheek, and address'd him and nam'd him:—
"Why art thou weeping, my child? what has burthen'd thy soul with affliction?
Speak to me, nothing conceal, that we both may have knowledge in fulness."
Heavily groaning, to her thus answer'd the rapid Achilleus:—
"Mother, already thou knowest, and why should it all be recounted?
We in our progress assailing Aëtion's hallowèd city,
Conquer'd and sack'd it, and hither conducted the plunder of Theba.
Then when the sons of Achaia assembled to make the division,
They to Atreides allotted for guerdon the comely Chrysëis.
But to the galleys anon of the brass-clad sons of Achaia,
Journey'd in sorrow her father, the grayhair'd priest of Apollo,
Eager to ransom the maiden, and bearing a bountiful ransom.
Holding the fillet divine in his hands of the Archer Apollo,
Twin'd on the sceptre of gold, he petition'd the host of Achaia—
Foremost of all the Atreidæ, the twain that are chief in dominion.
Then had it audible greeting from all the array of Achaians
Duly to honour the priest and accept fair gifts of redemption;
Only displeased in his mind was the King Agamemnon Atreides—
Stern the rejection from him and ungentle his word of dismissal.
Wrathful the elder departed, and pray'd in his wrath to Apollo;
Nor was the prayer unheard, for the priest was belov'd of the Godhead.
Swiftly the arrow of death was discharg'd on the host of the Argives;
More and yet more did he slay, for the terrible darts of his vengeance
Spared not a spot of the camp; till at last, when the people were gather'd,
Rose up a seer well skill'd and reveal'd the decree of the Archer.
Foremost was I in exhorting to bend to the God for atonement—
This the offence that enrag'd Agamemnon, who, instantly rising,
Utter'd the menacing word which his insolence now has accomplish'd.
Home at the last unto Chrysa the quick-eyed oarsmen of Argos.
Now are conducting the maiden, with plentiful gifts for Apollo;
But in the selfsame hour have his messengers left my pavilion,
Leading Brisëis away, my award from the host of Achaia.
Therefore I call upon thee, if with thee be the power to assist me,
Up to Olympus to go, and to supplicate Zeus for thine offspring,
If, or by word or by deed, thou hast pleasur'd the heart of the Highest:
And I have heard thee of old, full oft, in the halls of my father,
Boast how of all the immortals thy ministry only avail'd him
Then when the rest of the Gods were combin'd for his humiliation,
Hera herself at the head, with Poseidon and Pallas Athena,
All in conspiracy swearing to fetter the Lord of the Black Cloud;
But thou, Goddess, approaching, wast able to rescue from bondage,
Summoning swiftly to join thee, and leading to lofty Olympus,
Him who is Briăreus nam'd among men, by Immortals, Ægēon,
Him of the hundred hands, who surpasses his father[12] in puissance;
And by Kronion he sat in the pride of his glory rejoicing,
Filling with terror the Blest; for they saw and desisted from binding.
Sit by the side of the God, and remind him of this, and entreat him,
Grasping his knees, if perchance it may please him to succour the Trojans,
Granting them back on the galleys to trample the sons of Achaia,
Scatter'd in dread, till they all have contentment enough of their Captain—
Yea, till Atreides himself, Agamemnon, the chief in dominion,
Rues the infatuate pride that dishonour'd the best of Achaians."
Sad was the mother at hearing, and thus amid weeping she answer'd:—
"Woe to me! why did I bear thee, my child, in an hour of misfortune?
Would I could see thee nor harm'd by injustice nor yielding to sadness,
Here by the ships, since the days of thy doom are the few and the fleeting!
Woe to me! both to a death premature and a sorrowful lifetime
Thee, in the darkness of Fate, did I bear in the house of thy father!
Surely thy word will I carry to thunder-delighting Kronion,
Up unto snowy Olympus, and prayer may prevail for persuasion.
Thou meanwhile for a season lie still by the Myrmidon galleys,
Hating the Danäid host, and abstaining entirely from battle.
Yesterday forth-far'd Zeus to a feast with the Æthiops blameless,
Far over ocean's stream, and the rest of the Gods in attendance;
Twelve are the signified days ere again he returns to Olympus.
Instantly then will I pass to the brass-built dome of the Highest,
There will I cling to his knees, and I think he will hear my petition."
So having said she departed, and left him to sit as aforetime,
Bitterness swelling his breast at the thought of the slender Brisëis
Forcefully torn from his side. Meanwhile ever-prudent Odysseus
Safe into Chrysa had come with the hecatomb vow'd to Apollo.
They, when at last they arrived in the spacious recess of the harbour,
Furl'd with alertness their sail, and bestow'd in the depth of the galley,
Loosen'd the ropes from the mast, and depress'd it to fix in the mast-hold,
Push'd with their oars to the landing, and anchor'd and fasten'd the hausers;
Then with the hecatomb laden, the mariners stept on the sea-beach.
Lastly, Chrysëis was led by Odysseus himself from the galley,
Straight to the altar of Phœbus, and placed in the hand of her father.
"Take her, O Chryses," he said; "I am sent by the King Agamemnon,
Charg'd to restore her to thee, with a hecatomb fair for Apollo,
Vow'd on behalf of the host, if perchance it may work our atonement,
Press'd with afflictions severe by the far-shot darts of the Godhead."
So did he speak, and deliver'd the daughter belov'd to her father:
Glad was the old man's heart to receive her. And now the Achaians,
Ranging the hecatomb goodly around the magnificent altar,
Cleansèd with water their hands, and besprinkled the victims with barley.
Lifting his hands in the midst, then Chryses made supplication:—
"Hear me, Protector divine both of Chrysa and beautiful Killa,
God of the silvery bow, over Tenedos mightily reigning—
Hear me, if ever before there was favour to crown my petition.
Greatly to honour thy priest, hast thou humbled the host of Achaia;
Now I beseech thee to hear, and again let my prayer be accepted—
Hence be the pestilence stay'd that is wasting the Danäid leaguer!"
So did he speak in his prayer, nor regardless was Phœbus Apollo;
Also the Danäids pray'd, and again they besprinkled with barley;
Then were the necks turn'd back, and they slaughter'd the victims, and skinn'd them.
And when the bones of the thighs were extracted, and wrapt in the fatness
Doubled upon them around, and the raw flesh added in fragments,
Over the split wood then did the old man burn them, and black wine
Pour'd, while with five-prong'd forks, at his side, were the youthful attendants.
But when the bones and the fat they had burn'd, and had tasted the entrails,
All that remain'd was divided and fix'd on the spits of the striplings,
Roasted with skill at the fire, and in readiness moved from the altar:
Then was the labour complete, and the banquet prepared for the people,
And they were banqueted all, nor had one to complain of his portion.
But when of meat and of drink the desire from them all had departed,
Duly the goblets were mantled with wine by the youths of the temple,
Handed in order to all, and the round of libation accomplish'd.
Then through the livelong day the Achaians, in melody gracious,
Chanted the pæan divine to the glory of Phœbus Apollo,
Hymning the might of the King; and the voice of the harmony pleased him.
Then, when the sun went down, and the darkness around them was gather'd,
All to the haven departed, and slept on the beach by their hausers;
Till as the roseate Eos, the daughter of Morning, ascended,
Back was their voyage ordain'd to the wide-spread host of Achaia.
Fair was the breeze that attended their going from Phœbus Apollo;
Upward they hoisted the mast, and the white sail spread to receive it;
Full on the canvass it smote, and the dark-blue swell of the waters
Echo'd around at their coming, and groan'd to the plunge of the galley,
Onward advancing apace, as it sever'd the path of the billows.
But when the course had been run, and the galley arriv'd at the leaguer,
High on the sands of the beach was it hawl'd, and secur'd with the staybeams,
And they dispers'd on the shore, and return'd to the tents of their kinsmen.
Gloomily wrapt in his wrath, still sat by the strand of the galleys
High-born Peleus' son: unappeas'd was the rapid Achilleus.
Neither 'mid chieftains again to the honour-conferring assembly,
Nor to the battle he came; but his heart was consuming in fierceness,
There where he rested aloof, for he yearn'd for the charge and the war-shout.
But when his wrath had endur'd to the twelfth resurrection of morning,
Back to Olympus return'd over ocean the blessed Immortals,
All the attendance of Zeus: nor had then the command of Peleides
Pass'd from the mind of his mother, but rising anon from the sea-wave,
She, at the dawning of day, to the great heaven went and Olympus.
Far from the rest of the Gods, wide-seeing Kronion was seated,
Lone on the loftiest peak of the manifold-crested Olympus.
Silently Thetis approach'd him and sate by his side; and the Goddess,
Grasping his knees with her left, and caressing his chin with the right hand,
Earnestly lifted her voice, and petition'd the King Everlasting:—
"Father! if ever of old I was helpful to thee among Godheads,
Either in word or in deed, let the boon that I crave be conceded—
Honour deny not to him whom I bore to mortality fore-doom'd
Earliest far of mankind; for the Sov'reign of men, Agamemnon,
Basely dishonours my son, and has seiz'd and possesses his guerdon.
Lift him to honour thyself, O Zeus, All-wise of Olympus!
Strengthen the hand of the Trojans for victory, till the Achaians
Honour the worth of my son, and exalt him with worshipful increase."
So did she speak: nor to her did the high Cloud-gatherer answer.
Long in his silence he sat; but as first by his knees she had held him,
So did she earnestly cling, and repeated anew her petition:—
"Grant me the pledge of thy word, and confirm with the nod of acceptance,
Else let refusal be spoken, (for fear cannot dwell with the Highest,)—
Give me to know of a truth that with thee I am last of the Godheads."
Vex'd was the spirit of Zeus, as at last he made answer to Thetis:—
"Plagueful indeed is the hour which to strife and contention with Hera
Sees me committed by thee, and her words of reproach are a torment;
Ever, when cause there is none, she upbraids me before the Immortals,
Saying I favour the Trojans, and succour the press of their battle.
Quickly depart from me now, lest thy coming be noted of Hera;
Go, and the care be with me henceforth till it all is accomplish'd.
See now, here will I nod with my head, to complete thy reliance,—
Since in the circle of Gods Everlasting, whenever I yield it,
This is the mightiest sign; for a clear irrepealable purpose
Waits an accomplishment sure, when the nod of my head is the token."
So did he speak, and, at pausing, he sign'd with his shadowy eyebrows,
And the ambrosial curls from the Head Everlasting were shaken,
And at the nod of the King deep-trembled the lofty Olympus.
They from their communing parted; and she, on the instant descending,
Plung'd to the depth of the sea from the height of resplendent Olympus.
Zeus to his mansion return'd; and the company all of the Godheads
Rose at their Father's approach from their seats, nor did any adventure
Sitting his aspect to meet, but they all stood up at his coming.
Thus on his throne did he seat him; but not unobservant had Hera
Been, while in secret he spake with the child of the Ancient of Ocean;
Now with the words of reproach she was ready, and turn'd to Kronion:—
"Crafty and close! what God has been with thee in privacy plotting?
Ever it pleases thee well to be working apart and in darkness,
Willingly never to me has a word of thy counsel been open'd."
Instantly thus by the Father of Gods and of Men was she answer'd:—
"Hera, indulge not the hope to be partner in each of my counsels;
Wife as thou art, there are some it can never be thine to discover.
That which is fit for thine ear of the things I have settled in purpose,
None or of Gods or of Men shall in that be partaker before thee;
But whensoever my will is apart from the Gods to determine,
Cease from a prying unmeet, nor with rash curiosity question."
Haughtily glancing on Zeus, thus answer'd majestical Hera:—
"Oh, ever dark and austere! What a word hast thou utter'd, Kronion!
When was it ever my custom to pry or torment with a question?
Only it now is my fear that the white-footed daughter of Nereus,
Thetis, has led thee astray with the craft of her secret persuasion:
Early she sat by thy side, and was grasping thy knees in entreaty—
Nor did she leave thee, I think, without pledge of revenge for Achilleus,
And of destruction anon and of woe at the Danäid galleys."
Thus to the Goddess again spake Cloud-compelling Kronion:—
"Pestilent! Ever the spy! not a motion is safe from thy peering!
Yet shall it profit thee nothing, unless to estrange and remove me
Further away from thy love, which perchance may have worse for its upshot.
Now, if it be as thou say'st, thou hast strengthen'd the zeal of my purpose.
Hear me, and seat thee in silence, nor vain be the word of my warning,
Lest were the Gods of Olympus united, it nothing avail thee,
Shrinking before my approach, and the hand irresistible lifted."
So did he speak, and in fear was the heart of majestical Hera;
Silent before him she sat amid bitterness curbing her spirit.
Griev'd in the mansion of Zeus thereat were the heavenly Godheads;
Then in the midst of them all the artificer famous, Hephæstus,
Spake with a kindly intent toward white-armed Hera, his mother:—
"Plagueful to me is the sight, and already it passes endurance!
Sure it is folly that thus ye should strive and contend about mortals
Till there is tumult in heaven, nor the least satisfaction awaits us,
Banqueting wholly forgot, and the pestilent rivalry upmost!
This my advice to my mother, and wise though she be, let her hear it.
Kindly approaching his throne, let her promise our Father obedience,
Never to vex him again, and disturb the enjoyment of meal-time.
If the Olympian Lord of the Thunder be minded against us,
Down from our seats go we, for in might he surpasses us wholly.
Come, if with softness of speech thou remove the Olympian's anger,
Grace is at hand for us all, and returning benignity cheers us."
So said Hephæstus, and sprang from his place, and a plentiful goblet
Reach'd to the hand of his mother, and thus, as she took it, address'd her:—
"Patience! my mother! whatever the smart, be it borne with submission.
Dear as thou art to my soul, let it never be mine to behold thee
Under his chastising hand, for, however my will might incline me,
Service were none—the Olympian's grasp is not easy to strive with.
Once on a time my resistance avail'd not, when seizing me tightly,
Here by the foot, I was hurl'd sheer down from the heavenly threshold!
Down through the livelong day was I borne from the dawn to the sunset,
Till upon Lemnos I fell, and but little of breath was remaining,
When of the Sintian men I was kindly received at my falling."
So did he speak, and with smiles was he heard by majestical Hera,
And from the hand of her son with a smile she accepted the goblet;
Then to the rest of the Gods, from the right of the circle beginning,
Pass'd he the cup, ever pouring the nectar divine from the pitcher:
But in the Gods ever-blest there was stirr'd an unquenchable laughter,
Seeing Hephæstus advance in his ministry round the assembly.
Thus through the livelong day till the sun into ocean descended,
Feasted the Gods, nor to any was wanting his share of the banquet,
Nor of the beautiful harp that was touch'd by the hand of Apollo,
Nor of the song of the Muses with sweet voice singing alternate.
But when the glorious light of the sun had gone down into darkness,
All to their dwellings departed, desiring the softness of slumber—
Each to the separate dome, in the skill of his prudent contrivance
Rear'd by the halting Hephæstus, artificer fam'd of the Godheads.
Zeus, the Olympian Lord of the Thunder, also retiring,
Pass'd to the couch where of old to the sweetness of sleep he resign'd him;
This he ascended and slept: and beside him was Hera the Gold-throned.

N. N. T.

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PROSPECTUS.

It is proposed to establish a new Society or Association, under the style and title of the "Fogie Club."

To the myriads of railway adventures that of late years have on every side invited the lovers of gain or of gambling, and that now seem abandoned with the same desperate eagerness with which they were embraced, the Fogie Club will form a remarkable contrast. But it has recommendations of its own, which may compensate for others of which it cannot boast. It does not seek to promote rapid locomotion; but it presents a terminus of quiet and creditable rest. It does not promise dividends; but it does not contemplate calls. The stock is not expected to rise; but neither is it likely to fall. A solvent and sagacious public will judge on which side the advantage lies.

The meaning of the term "Fogie" is rather to be furnished by description than by definition. But we may bestow a few words on the lexico-graphical learning connected with the word.

Dr Jamieson, an authority every way entitled to attention on such a subject, gives a double signification of Fogie:—"1. A term used to denote an invalid or garrison soldier. 2. A man pithless and infirm from advanced age." He derives it, with his usual accuracy and acuteness, from the Suio-Gothic, in which the word "fogde," he tells us, meant "formerly one who had the charge of a garrison, but is now much declined in its meaning, as being applied to stewards, beadles," &c. The worthy doctor seems unconscious of the aid he might have derived from the fact, that the foreign term Fogde, or Vogt, is a corruption of the Latin advocatus; but he struggles with a laudable and natural feeling to maintain the dignity of the Fogie, as originally indicating among ourselves some important officer, such as the governor of a garrison, and we trust that further research may bring to light some confirmation of that conjecture. Indeed it may be observed, that there are instances among us where Fogies are in use to be termed Governors. But we are bound to say, that there are other linguists who refer the word to a less elevated source—some connecting it with the term fog or foggage, meaning a second grass or aftermath, not quite so rich or nourishing as the first growth; others, pointing at a kind of inferior bee, which receives the name of Foggie from its finding its nest among fog or moss; and others uncivilly insinuating that the Latin fucus, a drone, is the origin of the appellation.

While we protest against a supposed acquiescence in these more derogatory etymologies, we feel that it would be improper and premature at this stage to attempt the solution of so important a question as that at which we have thus glanced, and of which the elaborate discussion may form one of the earliest subjects for a prize essay to be proposed by the Club, and will doubtless fill many a learned page of the Fogie Transactions.

The character of the Fogie admits of less doubt than his etymology. It belongs confessedly to one of the most amiable and interesting classes of the species. It sets before us an individual, possessed at one time at least of respectable talents, generally developed at an early period of life, but of which the meridian splendour has now softened into the more tolerable radiance of declining day. The light is nearly alike, but the heat is considerably less. We still, perhaps, see in the Fogie the same imposing features of the face, the same dignity of gesture and attitude, and even a larger disc of body than before. The very voice often is much what it was, and the manner is almost unchanged. But when we carefully attend to the matter of what is said, we begin to perceive a difference. A certain pleasing irrelevancy, an interesting tendency to parenthesis, a longing, lingering look cast back on the events of former times, in preference to the passing topics of the day, and a pardonable increase in the use of the first person singular, become from time to time progressively conspicuous. Nothing can be more instructive, abstractly speaking, then the maxims which fall from the Fogie's lips; but, somehow or other, they often appear as having less immediate bearing on the matter in hand than we should have expected; and we labour under occasional impressions of having met with some of them before, either in Scripture, or in that valuable code of morality which the writing-master proposes to youth as the pattern of their imitation. "I have sometimes observed," he will say, "that vicious intercourse has a tendency to undermine good morals;" and he illustrates his position by the fate of an early friend, who went to the dogs from keeping bad company. Or again, "It may be safely affirmed," he observes, "that a conciliatory reply will frequently allay irritation in an angry assailant;" and he entertains us with a really good story of a choleric old gentleman who challenged him once for poaching on his grounds, but who was gradually talked over till he asked him to dinner. If our friend has been a wit in his youth, the propensity to jocularity still survives; but the jests are generally such as you meet with in the very earliest editions of Mr Joseph Miller, though, for the sake of variety, they are often ascribed to the late facetious Mr Joseph Jekyll, or Mr Henry Erskine, or to some other of the Fogie's early contemporaries, if indeed the Fogie himself is not the hero of the tale.

It is unnecessary to say that the Fogie is always an amiable and almost always a happy person. "Happiness," says the judicious Paley, "is found with the purring cat no less than with the playful kitten; in the arm-chair of dozing age, as well as in either the sprightliness of the dance, or the animation of the chase." The Fogie is generally attached in moderation to the pleasures of the table, and is a Conservative and Protectionist in his politics; though, since the introduction of Sir Robert Peel's last measure, several of the class have been rubbing up their Adam Smith, and quoting some of the enlightened maxims of free-trade which they used to hear at the Speculative Society, or in some other arena of juvenile discussion.

It is a proud thing to remember that the delineation of the Fogie has employed the genius of the greatest poets. The character of Nestor in the Iliad must be regarded as one of the masterpieces of the Homeric gallery. The eloquent drivel that distils from his tongue, the length and general inapplicability of his narratives, the judicious and imposing triteness of his counsels, the vigorous imbecility of his exhortations—all reveal the heroic Fogie in proportions suitable to the other colossal figures with which he is surrounded. In Polonius, again, Shakspeare has given us a different form of the species, equally perfect in its kind. The tenderness of the old man's heart, the sagacity of his discoveries, the self-pleasing estimate of his own importance, and the sounding vacuity of his moral maxims, afford a model by which, in all time coming, the courtly or paternal Fogie may regulate his life and conversation, though, we trust, he may generally meet with a happier termination to his career than that of the luckless father of Ophelia. Another great master, pursuing a course of his own, has made a more ambitious attempt to elevate the Fogie's poetical position, and has been eminently successful. We allude to the immortal Virgil, whose hero, the pious Æneas, may be considered as a perfect Fogie, developed with a rare precocity of power, so as to afford an illustration of the important truth, that, though Fogyism generally waits for old age, its maturity is not servilely dependent upon the progress of years, but in some fortunate natures—pauci quos æquus amavit Jupiter—may be brought to perfection at almost any period of life.

But, after all that has been done, there is something yet to do. The Fogiad is still to be written; and we trust soon to see it successfully accomplished by a member of the Club.

The science of self-knowledge is one of those acquirements which the Fogie, like the rest of mankind, loudly commends, but rarely possesses or practises. A few of the tribe, from habits of philosophical analysis, are partially cognizant of their intellectual condition, and will frankly come forward and enrol themselves in the Club. A good many others, aware that they are suspected of an approach to Fogyism, will think to disarm the suspicion by a pretended show of candour in joining our ranks, hoping, no doubt, to be rejected as not yet qualified. But we must intimate to such parties that their stratagem will be unsuccessful, and that they will be written down Fogies as requested, and duly found guilty, in terms of their own confession. The greater number of Fogies, however, with that modesty which often attends merit, are wholly unconscious of their real proficiency in this great mystery, and are not likely to give us their countenance of their own accord. This consideration will lead to a peculiarity in the constitution of the Club, which is intended to embrace not only the Fogies who apply for admission, but all of any note who possess the qualification, whether they apply or not. Correspondents will be established in every considerable town, and travellers on every important circuit, who will not fail to report to us the earliest appearance of confirmed Fogyism in every district. Many, indeed, of those who, in reading this article, are chuckling at the reflection it may be supposed to throw upon their neighbours, are already down in our list. Our Society, in this way, will be composed of two compartments—a Voluntary and an Involuntary; or, if we may be allowed the expression, a Visible and an Invisible club—the one embracing avowed Fogies, who boldly claim the privileges of their order, and the other the whole body of unconscious Fogyism throughout the world. Every where it may be held certain, that to be a reputed member of the Club, on whatever footing, will be a sure passport to respect and reverence.

Persons of diffident temperaments, who are doubtful of their qualifications, or disturbed in their minds as to their intellectual state, are encouraged to submit their case to consideration, and will be enabled to meet with the chaplain of the Club, who will administer to them such ghostly counsel as circumstances may require. In no instance, it may be mentioned, will any applicant be rejected; as, in the worst event, his claims will merely be superseded till a future day.

It may be satisfactory to learn that the promoters of the Club are in treaty for purchasing the advowson of the perpetual curacy of Humdrum cum Haverill, to which the chaplain will ex officio be presented. Candidates for the appointment are invited to apply early, as the clerical portion of the Club list is rapidly filling up, and the chaplainship can only be held by a member.

It is proposed, as soon as possible, to establish in the metropolis a spacious edifice for the reception of Fogies, conducted on the principle of the British and Foreign Institute, or of such other of the clubs as may be preferred.

Hobbyhorses will be dispersed throughout the various parts of this building, suitable to the several tastes and equestrian habits of individual Fogies. Fogies in a more advanced stage of development, will find provided for them the playthings, pinafores, and other paraphernalia of their first childhood. In a special apartment, to be called the "Nursery," the cradle (or crib) of reposing age will be rocked successfully by skilful nurses or experienced Fogies, instructed on the Mainzerian system in the most soporific lullabies.

On a future occasion, a list of the Provisional Committee will be published. It may be mentioned, that the offices of Preses and Vice-Preses are not at present to be filled up, as it is expected that they will eventually be conferred on His Grace the Duke of Wellington and Christopher North, Esq., though we regret to say that our latest accounts give us no assurance that these distinguished persons are likely very soon to join us.

Further particulars may be learned by application to Messrs Grandam and Garrulous, Cripplegate, or any other sharebrokers in London or the provinces; to whom also communications (prepaid) may be sent of the names and private history of illustrious Fogies, with likenesses of their persons, or any other information calculated to promote the interests of the Club.

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TRUTH AND BEAUTY.

Beauty and Truth, in Heaven's congenial clime,
Inseparate seen beside the Almighty throne,
Together sprung, before the birth of time,
From God's own glory, while he dwelt alone;—
These, when creation made its wonders known,
Were sent to mortals, that their mingling powers
Might lead and lure us to ethereal bowers.
But our perverse condition here below
Oft sees them severed, or in conflict met:
Oh, sad divorce! the well-spring of our woe,
When Truth and Beauty thus their bond forget,
And Heaven's high law is at defiance set!
'Tis this that Good of half its force disarms,
And gives to Evil all its direst charms.
See Truth with harsh Austerity allied,
Or clad in cynic garb of sordid hue:
See him with Tyranny's fell tools supplied,
The rack, the fagot, or the torturing screw,
Or girt with Bigotry's besotted crew:
What wonder, thus beheld, his looks should move
Our scorn or hatred, rather than our love?
See Beauty, too, in league with Vice and Shame,
And lending all her light to gild a lie;
Crowning with laureate-wreaths an impious name,
Or lulling us with Siren minstrelsy
To false repose when peril most is nigh;
Decking things vile or vain with colours rare,
Till what is false and foul seems good and fair.
Hence are our hearts bewilder'd in their choice,
And hence our feet from Virtue led astray:
Truth calls imperious with repulsive voice
To follow on a steep and rugged way;
While Beauty beckons us along a gay
And flowery path, that leads, with treacherous slope,
To gulfs remote from happiness or hope.
Who will bring back the world's unblemish'd youth
When these two wander'd ever hand in hand;
When Truth was Beauty, Beauty too was Truth,
So link'd together with unbroken band,
That they were one; and Man, at their command,
Tasted of sweets that never knew alloy,
And trod the path of Duty and of Joy?
Chiefly the Poet's power may work the change:
His heavenly gift, impell'd by holy zeal,
O'er Truth's exhaustless stores may brightly range,
And all their native loveliness reveal;
Nor e'er, except where Truth has set his seal,
Suffer one gleam of Beauty's grace to shine,
But in resistless force their lights combine.

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THE CAMPAIGN OF THE SUTLEJ.

Of the whole wonderful annals of our Indian Empire, the campaign of the Sutlej will form the most extraordinary, the most brilliant, the most complete, and yet the briefest chapter. It is an imperishable trophy, not less to the magnanimity of British policy, than to the resistlessness of British valour. The matchless gallantry, felicity, and rapidity of the military operations against a formidable foe of desperate bravery and overpowering numbers, through a tremendous struggle and terrific carnage—the blaze of four mighty and decisive victories won in six weeks—proudly seal our prowess in arms. The spotless justice of the cause; the admirable temper of its management; the almost fastidious forbearance which unsheathed the sword only under the stern compulsion of most wanton aggression; and the generous moderation which has swayed the flush of triumph—nobly attest our wisdom in government. The character of a glorious warrior may fitly express the character of a glorious war, which has been sans peur et sans reproche. To record in our pages memorable deeds which have added lustre even to the dazzling renown of Britain, would be at any time, but at present, we conceive, is peculiarly, a duty. The cordiality of the public interest in these important events dwindles and shrinks, like paper in the fire, before the intensity of that more domestic sympathy which has been every where awakened by individual calamities. The frightful cost at which we have purchased success, may be heard and seen in the wail and the gloom round a multitude of hearths. No dauntless courage was more conspicuous,—alas! no gallant life-blood was poured out more copiously,—than that of the sons of Scotland. The eternal sunshine of glory which irradiates the memory of the fallen brave, may be yet too fierce a light for the aching eye of grief to read by; but we thought that a simple consecutive recital of the recent exploits of our army in India would be unwelcome to none. Designedly we mean to write nothing more than a narrative; and, in doing so, to use, as far as it is possible, the very words of the official reports of those distinguished men, who leave us sometimes in doubt whether the pen or the sword is the more potent weapon in their hands. A few reflections and remarks will probably inweave themselves with the tissue of the story, just because such things cannot be told or heard without a quickening of the pulse, a glow upon the cheek, a beating in the heart. Otherwise we shall attempt to be "such an honest chronicler as Griffith." It is indispensable, however, not only to preface the details of the campaign with a concise description of the condition of the disordered and degraded people whom our enmity and vengeance smote so heavily; but likewise to explain, with some degree of minuteness, the views and purposes which, from first to last, influenced our Indian government in its conduct of these delicate, and ultimately momentous transactions, in order fully to appreciate the union of moderation and energy which, under the auspices of Sir Henry Hardinge as governor-general of India, and Sir Hugh Gough as commander o the army of the Sutlej, has satisfied the world that right and might were equally on the side of Britain.

Since the death, in 1839, of the famous Runjeet Singh, when the sacred waters of the Ganges received the ashes of the greatest of the Sikhs, it is impossible for language to exaggerate the anarchy, the depravity, the misery of the Punjaub. Tigers, and wolves, and apes, have been the successors of the "Old Lion." The predominant spirit of that energetic and sagacious ruler bridled the licentious turbulence which for the last seven years has rioted in the unrestrained indulgence of all abominable vices, and in the daily perpetration of the most atrocious crimes. Five Maharajahs in this brief period, "all murdered," have been sacrificed to the ambition of profligate courtiers, or the rapacity of a debauched soldiery. Kurruck Singh, the son of Runjeet Singh, and the inheritor of an overflowing treasury and a disciplined and numerous army, was an uneducated idiot, and easily induced to frown upon his father's able favourite, the Rajah Dhyan Singh, and to invest his own confidential adviser, the Sirdar Cheyk Singh, with the authority, if not the title, of his prime-minister. But the humiliated Rajah found the ready means of revenge in the family of his incapable sovereign. The Prince Noo Nehal Singh lent a willing ear to the tempting suggestions of a counsellor who only echoed the inordinate desires of his own ambition. At midnight, in the private apartment and at the feet of the Maharajah, the Sirdar Cheyk Singh was assassinated by his rival. The murder of the favourite was rapidly followed by the deposition of Kurruck Singh, and the elevation to the throne of the prince, his son. The court of Lahore was now convulsed by dark intrigues, and debased by brutal sensuality. The ineradicable spirit of hatred against every thing British, vented itself harmlessly in the bravadoes of the tyrant; but was more dangerously inflamed among many of the native powers of India, by the secret diffusion of a project for a general and simultaneous insurrection. A double mystery of villany saved us, probably, at that time from the shocks and horrors of war in which we have been recently involved. The deposed Kurruck Singh suddenly expired—a victim, it was whispered, to the insidious efficacy of slow and deadly poison, intermingled, as his son knew, in small quantities every day with his food. The lightning-flash of retribution descended. On the return from the funeral of Kurruck, the elephant which bore the parricidal majesty of Noo Nehal Singh pushed against the brick-work of the palace-gates, when the whole fabric fell with a crash, and so dreadfully fractured the skull of the Maharajah that he never spoke afterwards, and died in a few hours.

The power or the policy of Dhyan Singh then bestowed the perilous gift of this bloody sceptre upon Prince Shere, a reputed son of Runjeet, Singh. His legitimacy was immediately denounced, and his government opposed by the mother of his predecessor, who actively assumed, and for three or four months conducted, the regency of the state. The capricious attachment of the army, however, to the cause of Shere Singh turned the current of fortune; and the Queen-Mother might seem to have laid aside the incumbrance of her royal apparel, to be more easily strangled by her own slave girls. The accession of Shere Singh opened the floodgates of irretrievable disorder; for the troops, to whom he owed his success, and on whose venal steadiness the stability of his sway depended, conscious from their position, that, however insolently exorbitant in their demands, they were able to throw the weight of their swords into the scale, clamoured for an increase of their pay, and the dismissal of all the officers who were obnoxious to them. The refusal of their imperious request had a result we are fortunately not obliged to depict; nor, without a shudder, can we barely allude to it. The ruffian and remorseless violence of lawless banditti occupied and ravaged the city and the plain. The story of their plunder of Lahore is rendered hideous by every outrage that humanity can suffer, and by a promiscuous carnage, for which the ferocity of unreasoning animals might pant, but which the untiring fury of the wildest of brutes, the human savage, alone could protract beyond satiety. The finger of their murderous rage pointed to every assailable European officer, of whom some were assassinated, some very narrowly escaped. Months rolled on under the terrible dominion of these uncontrollable miscreants, while the length and the breadth of the land were scourged by their cruelty, polluted by their lust, and desolated by their rapine. The pestilence was partially arrested by a glut of gold. A treasure of many lacs of rupees being intercepted on its way to Lahore, enriched and mollified its captors. But at last, gorged with slaughter, and surfeited with excess, they modified their claims within limits to which the government intimated its willingness to accede. The incurable evil was consummated. Henceforward the army has been its own master, and the master of the government and the country. A transitory mirage of internal tranquillity and subordination refreshed the Punjaub; the fiery elements of discord and ruin smouldered unextinguishably behind it, awaiting the necessity or the opportunity of a fresh eruption. The volcano was not permitted to slumber. Shere Singh, liberated from the imminent oppression of the soldiery, plunged headlong into a slough of detestable debauchery. But in our annals his memory must survive,

"Link'd with one virtue and a thousand crimes."

Influenced by what good genius, or by what prescient timidity, it may be difficult to discover, he was true to the British interest, and remained obstinately deaf to the seductive animosity of the Sikh council, which was prone to take advantage of the disasters in Caubul, and to attack the avenging army of Sir George Pollock in its passage to Peshawer. Loyalty to England was little less than an act of treason to the Sikh chieftains and the Sikh soldiery, which, added to the Maharajah's total neglect of public business, accelerated a fatal conspiracy by his brother-in-law Ajeet Singh, and Dhyan Singh, "the close contriver of all harms." Shere Singh, being invited to inspect his brother-in-law's cavalry at a short distance from Lahore, was there shot by Ajeet. The assassin, riding quietly back to the city, met on the way the carriage of Dhyan Singh, dismounted, and, seating himself beside his accomplice in guilt, stabbed him to the heart. Now came confusion worse confounded. The nobles were divided; while the troops, as their inclinations or their hopes of pillage prompted them, flocked to the conflicting standards. Ajeet, after murdering the whole of the late Maharajah's family, including an infant one day old, fortified himself in the citadel of Lahore, from which he was dislodged to be immediately beheaded by Heera Singh, the son of the Rajah Dhyan Singh.

Then it was, that, under the auspices of Heera Singh, the present Maharajah, Dhuleep Singh, a mere boy, and the alleged offspring of old Runjeet Singh, was raised to the throne of the Sikhs. The army again renewed the formidable pretensions which had formerly distracted and wasted the Punjaub, and with which Heera Singh was now forced to comply. But the powers of the throne were prostrate. The infant Maharajah, a puppet in the hands of intriguing kinsmen, or of the ungovernable army, passively witnessed the slaughter of a succession of his principal rajahs who aspired to be his ministers, and each of whom raised himself a step nearer the summit of his desire upon the butchered body of his predecessor. A glow, perhaps, of undefinable pleasure may have warmed the heart of the child, who wore

"upon his baby brow the round
And top of sovereignty,"

when he saw the horrible drama apparently closed by his mother taking upon herself the responsibility and duties of the administration of affairs. She was a more helpless slave than himself. There was but one man in the Punjaub who could have aided her in her extremity. Neither of them could trust the other. Goolab Singh, a brother of Dhyan Singh, had been playing a safe game throughout the complicated troubles in which so many were overwhelmed. Bad as the worst, unscrupulously villanous, profoundly treacherous, detestably profligate and exciting behind the scenes discontent, mutiny, tumult, and massacre, he appeared occasionally on the stage to check or perplex the plot, as it suited his purposes. His arm never visibly reached to any point from which it could not be safely drawn back; but his hand was stirring every mischief. He was well aware of the insane and unappeasable passion for a war with the British which had long infected the whole Sikh army. He saw, we believe, the inevitable collision and the inevitable issue. With an infant on the throne, and a woman as prime-minister, the barrier to the torrent was a shadow. And so it happened. The voice of authority was drowned by the thundering tread of thousands and tens of thousands on their march to the Sutlej. Goolab Singh, folding himself in the cloak of neutrality, crouched, cat-like, to watch the vicissitudes of the contest.

The condition of the Punjaub necessarily attracted the anxious attention of our Indian government. The horizon grew blacker every hour, as the total inability of the authorities at Lahore to subdue or restrain the refractory and warlike spirit of the Sikh army, was made more and more manifest in unmistakable characters of blood and violence. Upon the 22d of last November, the Governor-General of India, while moving from Delhi to join the Commander-in-Chief in his camp at Umballah, received from the political agent, Major Broadfoot, an official despatch, dated the 20th November, detailing the sudden intention of the Sikh army to advance in force to the frontier, for the avowed purpose of invading the British territories. This despatch was succeeded by a private communication of the following day, stating the same facts, and inclosing news, letters, and papers of intelligence received from Lahore, which professed to give an account of the circumstances which had led to the movement, which would appear (if these papers are to be depended upon) to have originated with the Ranee and certain of the sirdars, who felt the pressure of the demands of the army to be so urgent, and its present attitude and temper so perilous to their existence, that they desired to turn the thoughts of the troops to objects which might divert their attention from making extortionate demands for higher pay, by employing their energies in hostile operations against the British government.[13]

We shall quote the substance of Major Broadfoot's letters, presenting, as they do, a curious picture of the chaos of matters on the other side of the Sutlej, and forming, likewise, important links in the narrative. The following extracts are taken from his communications on the 20th and 21st of November to the Governor-General and the Commander-in-Chief:—

"I have received Lahore letters of the 18th instant (morning).

"During the night of the 17th the chiefs had agreed on, and the Durbar had ordered in writing, the following plan of operations:—

"The army was to be divided into seven divisions, one to remain at Lahore, and the rest to proceed against Roopar and our hills, Loodianah, Hurreekee, Ferozepore, and Seinde, while one was to proceed to Peshawer; and a force under Rajah Goolab Singh was to be sent to Attock.

"Each division was to be of 8,000 to 12,000 men against Ferozepore, under Sham Singh Attareewallah, whose estates adjoin the place against which it was to act. Against Hurreekee is to go Rajah Lal Singh; against Loodianah, Sirdar Tej Singh, the new commander-in-chief; and against Roopar, a brother of Sena Singh Mujeeteea.

"The force under Sham Singh is to be 4,000 horse, and two brigades of infantry, with guns; under Raja Lal Singh, 4,500 horse, and two infantry brigades; under Sirdar Tej Singh, four brigades of infantry (one of them irregulars, and one new levies) and 1,000 horse, &c; but till the plans of the Durbar are in actual execution, they cannot be considered fixed, and therefore I do not trouble our Excellency with further details.

"With respect to the probability of their actually moving, I must say that my correspondents in Lahore seem to doubt it, though they are perplexed."

---

"The Durbar of the forenoon of the 18th was protracted till 2 o'clock, but I have not the details of the afternoon Durbar.

"11 A.M. was the hour found by the astrologers as auspicious for the march of the troops; not a chief stirred from his house. The officers and punchayets of the troops, regular and irregular, to the number of a couple of thousand, crowded to the Durbar and demanded the reason; the Ranee tried to soothe them, saying, that the fortunate hour being passed, the march could not be undertaken till the astrologers found another. The crowd demanded that this should be instantly done, and the court astrologer was ordered into their presence to find the proper time. He pored through his tables for two or three hours, while the Ranee sought to divert the attention of the military mob; at length he announced that the most favourable day was not till the 15th Mujsur (28th November). The military were furious, and declared that he was an impostor, and that they had to get from him two crores of rupees which he had made from the public money; the pundit implored mercy, and said the 7th Mujsur (20th) was also a good day; the military were still angry, and the poor pundit left amidst their menaces.

"They proposed that the Ranee and her son should march, and intimated that till they made an example of some chief no march would take place.

"The Ranee complained that whilst the troops were urging the march, they were still going home to their villages as fast as they got their pay; and Sirdar Sham Singh Attareewallah declared his belief, that unless something was done to stop this, he would find himself on his way to Ferozepore with empty tents. The bait of money to be paid, and to accompany them, was also offered, and at length the Durbar broke up at 2 P.M. Great consultations took place in the afternoon, but I know only one result, that the Ranee had to give to her lover his formal dismissal, and that he (Rajah Lal Singh) actually went into the camp of the Sawars he is to command, and pitched his tent.

"What the Ranee says is quite true of the sepoys dispersing to their houses; the whole affair has so suddenly reached its present height, that many of the men themselves think it will come to nothing, and still more who had taken their departure do not believe it serious enough to go back. On the day after this scene took place, i. e., the 19th, the usual stream of sepoys, natives of the protected states, who had got their pay, poured across the Sutlej, at Hurreekee, on their way to their homes. Every preparation, however, for war is making with probably more energy than if it had been a long-planned scheme; for every person of whatever party must show his sincerity by activity and virulent professions of hatred to the English."

It is proper to add, that Major Broadfoot also announces, that when the Sikh intrigues and commotions assumed a serious form, he had addressed an official letter of remonstrance through the proper channel to Lahore. Five days after these letters were written, on the 26th of November, the Commander-in-Chief and Major Broadfoot joined, at Kurnaul, the Governor-General, who shall be the exponent of his own impressions, intentions, and plans:—

"I had the satisfaction of concurring in all the orders which his Excellency had given, to hold the troops in readiness to move at the shortest notice, and in the instructions which he had sent to the officers in command of the stations at Ferozepore and Loodianah. The force at the former post consists of one European regiment, seven regiments of native infantry, two regiments of native cavalry, and twenty-four field-guns, exclusive of heavy ordnance. The force at Loodianah consists of one regiment of Europeans, five regiments of native infantry, one regiment of native cavalry, and two troops of horse artillery.

"After a full and satisfactory consultation with his Excellency, and taking into consideration the improbability of the Sikh army crossing the Sutlej, I determined that no movement should be made towards the river by the forces from Umballah and Meerut, and I postponed for further consideration with his Excellency any change in the present distribution of the troops; eventually some alterations will be made, which, when they have been finally determined upon between me and the Commander-in-Chief, will be reported to you. At the present moment, his Excellency coincides with me, that no forward movement is required.

"In the midst of much hesitation and irresolution, the enterprise ordered by the Sikh government does not appear to have been formally abandoned; the intelligence received by Major Broadfoot on the day of his joining my camp, showed that the three brigades of the Sikh force had actually left Lahore a few miles in advance, to be followed the next morning by three other brigades including one of artillery. This was on the 24th ultimo. The intelligence received from that date has been communicated to me by Major Broadfoot each day, as it arrives.

"It is said they intend, in reply to Major Broadfoot's remonstrance, to allege that the fact of our having collected so large a force, with all the munitions of war, on the frontier, is the cause of the concentration of their forces on the Sutlej; that they intend to demand the reasons of our preparations; to insist on the surrender to the Lahore government of the treasure which belonged to the late Rajah Soocheyt Singh; the restoration by the Rajah of Nabba of the village of Mowran, escheated by the Rajah, and the escheat confirmed by us; and henceforth the free passage of their troops into the Lahore possessions on this side the Sutlej.

"I need only remark, on the first and most essential point, that the Sikh army did in the beginning of last January prepare to move to the Sutlej. The political agent remonstrated, and the troops were withdrawn; the reason then assigned for the movement being the same as that now intended to be brought forward, namely, the state of our military preparations on the frontier. The Governor-General in Council, in a despatch to Major Broadfoot of the 25th January 1845, entered into very full explanations, which were conveyed to the Lahore Vakeel.

"As regards the past, it is clear that no cause of complaint has been given by the government of India. If it should be asserted that our military preparations this autumn have given offence, the assertion is equally unfounded, and is a mere pretext for hostile proceedings, which have originated in the political weakness and the internal dissensions of the Lahore government; and, above all, in their desire to be released, on any terms, from the terror which the ferocity of their own troops has inspired. The proof is to be found in the fact, that at the time these disorderly movements commenced, no additional British troops had reached our frontier stations. The additional regiment of native infantry, destined for the reinforcement of Ferozepore, had not arrived. At Loodianah one of the two regiments of native cavalry had actually marched for Scinde before it was relieved, leaving that post, as it is at present, with one regiment, instead of the usual complement of two regiments of cavalry. At the other stations no alterations had been made, and the troops which had marched were peaceably engaged in completing the annual reliefs according to custom at this season.

"Such is the state of affairs at the present moment, and although my conviction is strong that the Sikh army will be deterred from acts of aggression, on account of the state of our military preparation, yet it is by no means impossible that we may be forced at any moment into war, and that operations, on a very extended scale, may be immediately necessary.

"My views and measures will be anxiously directed to avoid a recourse to arms, as long as it may be possible. On this point my determination is fixed. At the same time it is very apparent, from the general aspect of affairs, that the period is fast approaching when further changes will take place at Lahore, and that the weak government of the regent will be subverted by the violence of the troops, instigated by the intrigues of the party favourable to the Rajah Goolab Singh.

"I shall not consider the march of the Sikh troops in hostile array towards the banks of the Sutlej as a cause justifying hostilities, if no actual violation of our frontier should occur. The same privilege which we take to adopt precautionary measures on our side must be conceded to them. Every forbearance shall be shown to a weak government, struggling for assistance against its own soldiers in a state of successful mutiny."[14]

A week later, no act of open hostility having yet been committed, the Governor-General, then in the camp at Umballah, was informed that the authorized agent of the court of Lahore had joined the camp. Major Broadfoot was immediately directed to see the Vakeel, and to require from him a reply to the remonstrance, which, as we have said, had been previously made against the proceedings that had taken place at the time it was written. At this conference the Vakeel asserted that he had received no reply from the Durbar at Lahore. The Governor-General acted with the utmost temperance:—

"When Major Broadfoot reported to me, in the evening, the result of this interview, I immediately directed him to address to the Vakeel the written communication, a copy of which is inclosed.

"I considered that it was absolutely necessary, on my arrival at Umballah, to take decided notice of the extraordinary proceedings that had taken place, and were stated to be still in progress. It was evident I could not permit the political agent's communications, in the face of what was going on at Lahore, to be treated with disregard. I took the mildest course in my power, consistently with the dignity, position, and interests of the British government. I purposely left an opening to the Lahore government to remedy, through its Vakeel, the discourtesy it had shown, by affording to that government the facility of making any explanation it might desire. The plain construction to be put on the silence of the Lahore government, in reply to the demand for explanation, evidently was, that the intentions of that government were hostile, in which case I did not deem it to be expedient to give to that government the leisure to complete their hostile preparations; whilst, on my part, I had abstained from making any movement, expressly for the purpose of avoiding any cause of jealousy or alarm; thus according to the Maharajah's government the strongest proof of the good faith and forbearance of the British government.

"I am satisfied that the course I have adopted was imperatively required; and before I authorize any precautionary movements to be made, I shall give full time for a reply to be received from Lahore."

The letter which narrates these proceedings concludes thus:—

"This morning, news up to the 1st inst. has been received. The Ranee and sirdars are becoming more and more urgent that the army should advance to the frontier, believing that, in the present posture of affairs, the only hope of saving their lives and prolonging their power is to be found in bringing about a collision with the British forces. The Sikh army moves with evident reluctance, and is calling for Goolab Singh, who is collecting forces at Jumboo, and is watching the progress of events.

"My own impression remains unaltered. I do not expect that the troops will come as far as the banks of the Sutlej, or that any positive act of aggression will be committed; but it is evident that the Ranee and chiefs are, for their own preservation, endeavouring to raise a storm, which, when raised, they will be powerless either to direct or allay.

"I shall, as I have before said, await the reply from Lahore to Major Broadfoot's last communication to the Vakeel.

"If the reply from the ostensible government, acting under the control and at the discretion of the army, is hostile, I shall at once order up troops from Meerut, and other stations, to the support of our advanced positions, persevering up to the last moment in the sincere desire to avoid hostilities."[15]

We cannot, with any honesty, suppress our conviction that forbearance was here pushed to the very verge of safety. The sullen silence of the Lahore government, as its only answer to our most legitimate demand for an explanation of its menacing attitude, it seems to us, would have been a complete justification of such a movement of our forces as might have concentrated them, by a march of one day, instead of six days, on the banks of the Sutlej, and in the face of the enemy. Had such a step hastened the rupture, who could righteously blame us for the result? But, as it happened, the trumpet of the Sikhs which summoned us to the dreadful appeal of battle could not have sounded sooner than it did, and we should have entered the mortal lists every way at less disadvantage, without the odds against us, which the disparity of numbers rendered formidable enough, being multiplied an hundred-fold by the physical exhaustion of each individual soldier in our ranks.

The disbelief in the probability of any serious hostility still filled the mind of the Governor-General, when, upon the 6th of December, he moved from Umballah towards Loodianah, peaceably prosecuting his visitation of the Sikh protected states, according to the usual custom of his predecessors. "In common with the most experienced officers of the Indian government," he writes,

"I was not of opinion that the Sikh army would cross the Sutlej with its infantry and artillery.

"I considered it probable that some act of aggression would be committed by parties of plunderers, for the purpose of compelling the British government to interfere, to which course the Sikh chiefs knew I was most averse; but I concurred with the Commander-in-Chief, and the chief Secretary to the Government, as well as with my political agent, Major Broadfoot, that offensive operations, on a large scale, would not be resorted to.

"Exclusive of the political reasons which induced me to carry my forbearance as far as it was possible, I was confident, from the opinions given by the Commander-in-Chief and Major-general Sir John Littler, in command of the forces at Ferozepore, that that post would resist any attack from the Sikh army as long as its provisions lasted; and that I could at any time relieve it, under the ordinary circumstances of an Asiatic army making an irruption into our territories, provided it had not the means of laying siege to the fort and the intrenched camp.

"Up to this period no act of aggression had been committed by the Sikh army. The Lahore government had as good a right to reinforce their bank of the river Sutlej, as we had to reinforce our posts on that river.

"The Sikh army had, in 1843 and 1844, moved down upon the river from Lahore, and, after remaining there encamped a few weeks, had returned to the capital. These reasons, and above all my extreme anxiety to avoid hostilities, induced me not to make any hasty movement with our army, which, when the two armies came into each other's presence, might bring about a collision.

"The army had, however, been ordered to be in readiness to move at the shortest notice; and, on the 7th and 8th December, when I heard from Lahore that preparations were making on a large scale for artillery, stores, and all the munitions of war, I wrote to the Commander-in-Chief, directing his Excellency, on the 11th, to move up the force from Umballah, from Meerut, and some other stations in the rear.

"Up to this time no infantry or artillery had been reported to have left Lahore, nor had a single Sikh soldier crossed the Sutlej. Nevertheless, I considered it prudent no longer to delay the forward movement of our troops, having given to the Lahore government the most ample time for a reply to our remonstrance."

During the four days following the 8th of December, the fluctuating intelligence from Lahore, although, on the whole, more cloudy than formerly, was not of a character to shake the prevalent opinion that no Sikh movement, on a large scale, was intended, and that the Sikh army would not cross the Sutlej. On the 13th, the Governor-General first received precise information that the Sikh army had crossed the Sutlej, and was forming in great force on the left bank of the river, in order to attack Ferozepore, which was occupied by a British force of little more than five thousand men. He immediately issued a proclamation, on the part of the British government, which set forth, that—

"In the year 1809 a treaty of amity and concord was concluded between the British government and the late Maharajah Runjeet Singh, the conditions of which have always been faithfully observed by the British government, and were scrupulously fulfilled by the late Maharajah.

"The same friendly relations have been maintained with the successors of Maharajah Runjeet Singh by the British government up to the present time.

"Since the death of the late Maharajah Shere Singh, the disorganized state of the Lahore government has made it incumbent on the Governor-General in council to adopt precautionary measures for the protection of the British frontier; the nature of these measures, and the cause of their adoption, were at that time fully explained to the Lahore Durbar.

"Notwithstanding the disorganized state of the Lahore government during the last two years, and many most unfriendly proceedings on the part of the Durbar, the Governor-General in council has continued to evince his desire to maintain the relations of amity and concord which had so long existed between the two states, for the mutual interests and happiness of both. He has shown on every occasion the utmost forbearance, from consideration to the helpless state of the infant Maharajah Dhuleep Singh, whom the British government had recognised as the successor to the late Maharajah Shere Singh.

"The Governor-General in council sincerely desired to see a strong Sikh government re-established in the Punjaub, able to control its army and to protect its subjects. He had not, up to the present moment, abandoned the hope of seeing that important object effected by the patriotic efforts of the Sikhs and people of that country.

"The Sikh army recently marched from Lahore towards the British frontier, as it was alleged by the orders of the Durbar, for the purpose of invading the British territory.

"The Governor-General's agent, by direction of the Governor-General, demanded an explanation of this movement, and no reply being returned within a reasonable time, the demand was repeated. The Governor-General, unwilling to believe in the hostile intentions of the Sikh government, to which no provocation had been given, refrained from taking any measures which might have a tendency to embarrass the government of the Maharajah, or to induce collision between the two states.

"When no reply was given to the repeated demand for explanation, and while active military preparations were continued at Lahore, the Governor-General considered it necessary to order the advance of troops towards the frontier to reinforce the frontier posts.

"The Sikh army has now, without a shadow of provocation, invaded the British territories.

"The Governor-General must, therefore, take measures for effectually protecting the British provinces, for vindicating the authority of the British government, and for punishing the violators of treaties, and the disturbers of public peace.

"The Governor-General hereby declares the possessions of Maharajah Dhuleep Singh on the left or British banks of the Sutlej confiscated, and annexed to the British territories."

In the mean time the Umballah division of our troops had been in movement towards the Sutlej for three days; but as this force, if intercepted by a large Sikh army, was not considered sufficiently strong to force its way to the relief of Ferozepore, the Governor-General directed the whole garrison, amounting to five thousand men and twenty-one guns, of Loodianah, even at the risk of leaving that town and its cantonments exposed to capture and plunder, to effect a junction with the Umballah division. By a rapid march the Loodianah troops formed the advanced column of the army, and secured the supplies which had been laid in at Busseean, an important point, where the roads from Umballah and Kurnaul meet. On the 18th of December the British forces, having moved up by double marches on alternate days, reached, and, with the exception of two European and two native regiments, were concentrated at Moodkee, twenty miles from Ferozepore. How easy it is for us to describe, in a single sentence, the results of the irrepressible spirit and indefatigable exertions of those gallant men! In seven days they had traversed, over roads of heavy sand, a distance of upwards of one hundred and fifty miles, while their perpetual toil allowed them scarcely leisure to cook what scanty food they could procure, and hardly an hour for sleep. Four-and-twenty hours had elapsed since their parched lips were moistened by a single drop of water, when these exhausted but indomitable troops, a little after mid-day, took up their encamping ground in front of Moodkee. But their toil had not begun. Never, surely, were the harassing fatigues of so laborious a march alleviated by a more terrible refreshment. The way-worn warriors had not halted two hours, and were engaged in cooking their meals, when they were startled by a sudden order to get under arms, and move to their positions. The Sikh army was at hand in battle array. Instantly our horse artillery and cavalry pushed forward, while the infantry, accompanied by the field-batteries, advanced to their support, and, scarcely two miles off, confronted the enemy, nearly forty thousand strong, with forty guns, preparing for action. To resist the attack, and to cover the formation of the infantry, the cavalry, dashing rapidly to the front in columns of squadrons, occupied the plain, and were speedily followed by the troops of horse artillery, who took up their position with the cavalry on their flanks.

"The country," writes the Commander-in-Chief, "is a dead flat, covered at short intervals with a low, but in some places thick jhow jungle, and dotted with sandy hillocks. The enemy screened their infantry and cavalry behind this jungle, and such undulations as the ground afforded; and, whilst our twelve battalions formed from echelon of brigade into line, opened a very severe cannonade upon our advancing troops, which was vigorously replied to by the battery of horse artillery under Brigadier Brooke, which was soon joined by the two light field-batteries. The rapid and well-directed fire of our artillery appeared soon to paralyse that of the enemy; and as it was necessary to complete our infantry dispositions without advancing the artillery too near to the jungle, I directed the cavalry under Brigadiers White and Gough to make a flank movement on the enemy's left, with a view of threatening and turning that flank, if possible. With praiseworthy gallantry, the 3d light dragoons, with the 2d brigade of cavalry, consisting of the body-guard and 5th light cavalry, with a portion of the 4th lancers, turned the left of the Sikh army, and, sweeping along the whole rear of its infantry and guns, silenced for a time the latter, and put their numerous cavalry to flight. Whilst this movement was taking place on the enemy's left, I directed the remainder of the 4th lancers, the 9th irregular cavalry under Brigadier Mactier, with a light field-battery, to threaten their right. This manœuvre was also successful. Had not the infantry and guns of the enemy been screened by the jungle, these brilliant charges of the cavalry would have been productive of greater effect.

"When the infantry advanced to the attack, Brigadier Brooke rapidly pushed on his horse artillery close to the jungle, and the cannonade was resumed on both sides. The infantry, under Major Generals Sir Harry Smith, Gilbert, and Sir John M'Caskill, attacked in echelon of lines the enemy's infantry, almost invisible amongst wood and the approaching darkness of night. The opposition of the enemy was such as might have been expected from troops who had every thing at stake, and who had long vaunted of being irresistible. Their ample and extended line, from their great superiority of numbers, far outflanked ours; but this was counteracted by the flank movements of our cavalry. The attack of the infantry now commenced; and the roll of fire from this powerful arm soon convinced the Sikh army that they had met with a foe they little expected; and their whole force was driven from position after position with great slaughter, and the loss of seventeen pieces of artillery, some of them of heavy calibre; our infantry using that never-failing weapon the bayonet, whenever the enemy stood. Night only saved them from worse disaster; for this stout conflict was maintained during an hour and a half of dim starlight, amidst a cloud of dust from the sandy plain, which yet more obscured every object."

The more awful combats of Ferozeshah and Sobraon must not eclipse the brightness of Moodkee, which revealed so vividly, even under that "dim starlight," the elastic vigour of the British spirit.

Hunger, and thirst, and weariness vanished at once, as, with the alacrity and precision of a peaceful parade, our enthusiastic regiments moved into their positions, and impetuously advanced to encounter an enemy who mustered his host in myriads. On they swept like a hurricane. "The only fault found," are the words of an officer present in the engagement, "was, that the men were too fresh, and could not be kept from running at the enemy." Outflanking us by masses of infantry and swarms of cavalry—tearing us to tatters by the swift destruction from their immense and beautiful artillery—it fared with the Sikhs, before the stemless tide of British ardour, as with the Philistines before Samson—

"When unsupportably his foot advanced,"
—"In scorn of their proud arms and warlike tools,"
"Spurn'd them to death by troops."—

The moral effect upon our soldiers of this battle, we may believe to have been decisive of the campaign. The prodigious preponderance of the Sikhs in numerical strength; the weight, and celerity, and accuracy of their batteries; their stanch and obstinate courage, which often went down only before the intolerable contact of the bayonet, had been made undeniably manifest. What had they availed against our imperturbable intrepidity, under circumstances and at a moment in which we might have thrown, almost without dishonour, the blame of discomfiture upon physical infirmities, that overmaster the brave and the strong as relentlessly as the timid and feeble? What would they avail, when the chances were fairer for us—the collision more even? When the fight at Moodkee was done, there was not, of the surviving victors, a Queen's soldier or a sepoy who had not already settled to his own satisfaction the whole campaign of the Sutlej, in the pithy but comprehensive conviction, that he should drub the Sikhs whenever he met them. The logician smiles at the vulnerable reasoning; the soldier smiles, too, and feels himself clad in better armour than steel or brass. There had been a reciprocal amicable emulation every where prevalent throughout the battle, between the officers and the men, between our Indian and our European troops. The Governor-General shared all the perils of the field; Sale and M'Caskill "foremost fighting fell;" while our native regiments vied with, and were not excelled by, their British comrades in active daring or unswerving steadiness. One temper, one will, and a universal mutual confidence, thrilled through, cemented, and fired the whole mass.

On the day after the battle, the Sikhs having retired upon their intrenchments at Ferozeshah, orders were sent to direct Sir John Littler, with the Ferozepore force, to join as soon as possible the main army. The relief of Ferozepore—threatened, according to the first reports received by the Governor-General, by the Sikh army en masse—had been his primary object in those rapid marches which brought him to Moodkee. It now appears that, on the 13th of December, Sir John Littler had moved out of Ferozepore into camp, and on the 15th took up a strong position at a village about two miles to the southeast of his encampment, in order to intercept the anticipated attack on the city. The Sikh camp was distinctly visible, and supposed to contain 60,000 men, with 120 guns. Three days passed without even a demonstration of active hostility; and on the night of the 17th, the Sikhs were moving away to meet the Governor-General. On the evening of the 20th, therefore, Sir John Littler had no difficulty in instantly obeying the orders from Moodkee, and in arriving next morning at headquarters in time to share the peril and the glory of one of the most dreadful contests in which we were ever engaged in Europe or in Asia. The inaction of the Sikhs at Ferozepore is, in the present state of our information, unintelligible; but it would be an idle waste of time and space to speculate upon the consequences of a peril which did not assail us, or harrow our minds with the probability of disasters and difficulties from which we never suffered.

At Moodkee, our army, for most needful repose, and fully to prepare for a more gigantic effort, rested two days. In this interval the Governor-General took a step which has not escaped comment, in offering to the Commander-in-Chief his services as second in command of the army. He did right. Battalions and brigades could hardly have strengthened the hands of the general, and invigorated the spirits of the troops, so much as the active accession of Hardinge. Prim etiquette may pucker its thin lips, and solemn discretion knit its ponderous brows; but neither discipline nor prudence ran any risk of being injured or affronted by the veteran of the Peninsula. What the exigency required, he knew; what the exigency exacted, he performed. That those who censure would not have imitated his conduct, in defiance of the admonitions of the hundred-throated Sikh ordnance, we may allowably imagine. Such critics, being themselves governors-general, would probably have received beneath the cool verandas of Calcutta the news of the tempestuous bivouacs of Ferozeshah. For ourselves, we learn with pride and satisfaction, that when offensive operations were resumed on the morning of the 21st of December, the charge and direction of the left wing of the army was committed to Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Hardinge.

"Breaking up on that morning from Moodkee, our columns of all arms" (so writes the Commander-in-Chief) "debouched four miles on the road to Ferozeshah, where it was known that the enemy, posted in great force and with a most formidable artillery, had remained since the action of the 18th, incessantly employed in intrenching his position. Instead of advancing to the direct attack of their formidable works, our force manœuvred to their right; the second and fourth divisions of infantry in front, supported by the first division and cavalry in second line, continued to defile for some time out of cannon-shot between the Sikhs and Ferozepore. The desired effect was not long delayed: a cloud of dust was seen on our left, and, according to the instructions sent him on the preceding evening, Major-General Sir John Littler, with his division, availing himself of the offered opportunity, was discovered in full march to unite his force with mine. The junction was soon effected, and thus was accomplished one of the great objects of all our harassing marches and privations, in the relief of this division of our army from the blockade of the numerous forces by which it was surrounded.

"Dispositions were now made for a united attack on the enemy's intrenched camp. We found it to be a parallelogram, of about a mile in length, and half a mile in breadth, including within its area the strong village of Ferozeshah; the shorter sides looking towards the Sutlej and Moodkee, and the longer towards Ferozepore and the open country. We moved against the last-named face, the ground in front of which was, like the Sikh position in Moodkee, covered with low jungle.

"A very heavy cannonade was opened by the enemy, who had dispersed over their position upwards of one hundred guns, more than forty of which were of battering calibre: these kept up a heavy and well-directed fire, which the practice of our far less numerous artillery, of much lighter metal, checked in some degree, but could not silence; finally, in the face of a storm of shot and shell, our infantry advanced and carried these formidable intrenchments; they threw themselves upon their guns, and with matchless gallantry wrested them from the enemy; but when the batteries were partially within our grasp, our soldiery had to face such a fire of musketry from the Sikh infantry, arrayed behind their guns, that, in spite of the most heroic efforts, a portion only of the intrenchment could be carried. Night fell while the conflict was every where raging.

"Although I now brought up Major-General Sir Harry Smith's division, and he captured and long maintained another point of the position, and her Majesty's 3d light dragoons charged and took some of the most formidable batteries, yet the enemy remained in possession of a considerable portion of the great quadrangle; whilst our troops, intermingled with theirs, kept possession of the remainder, and firmly bivouacked upon it, exhausted by their gallant efforts, greatly reduced in numbers, and suffering extremely from thirst, yet animated by an indomitable spirit. In this state of things the long night wore away.

"Near the middle of it, one of their heavy guns was advanced, and played with deadly effect upon our troops. Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Hardinge immediately formed her Majesty's 80th foot and the 1st European light infantry. They were led to the attack by their commanding-officers, and animated in their exertions by Lieutenant-Colonel Wood, (aide-de-camp to the Lieutenant-General,) who was wounded in the outset. The 80th captured the gun, and the enemy, dismayed by this counter-check, did not venture to press on further. During the whole night, however, they continued to harass our troops by a fire of artillery, wherever moonlight discovered our position."[16]

The ghastly horrors of that awful night we should hopelessly struggle to describe. The attack began about three o'clock in the afternoon, and was urged incessantly for six hours in the face of the devastating storm of the Sikh batteries, which, with one continuous roar of thunder, blurted forth agony, and mutilation, and death upon their assailants. On the bare cold earth—the night was bitterly, intensely cold—with no food and no water—the living and the dying, in their exhaustion and torture, lay with the dead in their tranquillity. Broadfoot, with a happier fate, had already yielded up his spirit; Somerset, sensible, but helplessly benumbed, was lingering through the tedious hours, to die in the morning, knolled by the shouts of victory. All night long "the havoc did not cease." In the very noon of darkness, a sleepless rest was invaded and broken by such extraordinary efforts as those to which the Governor-General in person excited the 80th and 1st European light infantry. And it well merits remembrance, what we know from other sources, that in these midnight charges, the men fell into the ranks so noiselessly and swiftly, that they were ready to advance before their officers were aware of their commands being generally understood.

"But with daylight of the 22d came retribution. Our infantry formed line, supported on both flanks by horse artillery, whilst a fire was opened from our centre by such of our heavy guns as remained effective, aided by a flight of rockets. A masked battery played with great effect upon this point, dismounting our pieces, and blowing up our tumbrils. At this moment Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Hardinge placed himself at the head of the left, whilst I rode at the head of the right wing.

"Our line advanced, and, unchecked by the enemy's fire, drove them rapidly out of the village of Ferozeshah and their encampment; then, changing front to its left, on its centre, our force continued to sweep the camp, bearing down all opposition, and dislodged the enemy from their whole position. The line then halted, as if on a day of manœuvre, receiving its two leaders, as they rode along its front, with a gratifying cheer, and displaying the captured standards of the Khalsa army. We had taken upwards of seventy-three pieces of cannon, and were masters of the whole field.

"The force assumed a position on the ground which it had won; but even here its labours were not to cease. In the course of two hours, Sirdar Tej Singh, who had commanded in the last great battle, brought up from the vicinity of Ferozopore fresh battalions and a large field of artillery, supported by 30,000 Ghorepurras, hitherto encamped near the river. He drove in our cavalry parties, and made strenuous efforts to regain the position at Ferozeshah: this attempt was defeated; but its failure had scarcely become manifest, when the Sirdar renewed the contest with more troops and a large artillery. He commenced by a combination against our left flank, and when this was frustrated, made such a demonstration against the captured village as compelled us to change our whole front to the right. His guns during this manœuvre maintained an incessant fire, whilst, our artillery ammunition being completely expended in those protracted combats, we were unable to answer him with a single shot.

"I now directed our almost exhausted cavalry to threaten both flanks at once, preparing the infantry to advance in support, which apparently caused him suddenly to cease his fire, and abandon the field.

---

"The loss of this army has been heavy; how could a hope be formed that it should be otherwise? Within thirty hours this force stormed an intrenched camp, fought a general action, and sustained two considerable combats with the enemy. Within four days it has dislodged from their positions, on the left bank of the Sutlej, 60,000 Sikh soldiers, supported by upwards of 150 pieces of cannon, 108 of which the enemy acknowledge to have lost, and 91 of which are in our possession.

"In addition to our losses in the battle, the captured camp was found to be every where protected by charged mines, by the successive springing of which many brave officers and men have been destroyed."[17]

Was there ever harder fighting? No—not even a month afterwards at Sobraon. For two-and-twenty hours, from three o'clock on the afternoon of the 21st till one o'clock after mid-day of the 22d, the combat—unremitted, as we have seen, even beneath the shade of night—endured, and deepened as it endured, having raged with appalling fury in its very termination. The intrenched Sikh camp was literally a fortress, occupied by a great army not untutored in European discipline, and protected by enormous batteries of heavy ordnance, which were served so rapidly, and pointed so truly, as to elicit the unqualified admiration of the victims of their efficiency. Against this bristling rock, while, wave after wave, our sea of battle surged and reverberated, dark clouds of Sikh cavalry, hovering on all sides, sent forth at opportune conjunctures their sweeping whirlwinds, which either destroyed those ranks, whose compact array was broken by eagerness and the nature of the ground, or more frequently forced our infantry suddenly to form into squares beneath the iron tempest of a demolishing artillery. With difficulty and labour our heroic soldiers had but breached, and surmounted, and gained footing within the fortifications, when the earth, heaving and opening with the successive explosion of charged mines, hurled into fragments scores of those who had passed unscathed through the ordeal of manly warfare with confronting foes. But moat and mound, cannon and cavern, were at length overleapt, silenced and exhausted. Still was it "double, double, toil and trouble." With fresh reinforcements of men, backed as ever by a massive artillery, the enemy repeatedly attempted to retrieve his loss, and regain his camp. To his incessant fire, we could not answer with a single shot; our ammunition was gone. Frustrating his manœuvres, what else remained to do was done with the hard steel of the bayonet, and hand to hand with the good sword. And thus were earned the laurels of Ferozeshah.

Over the carnage of such battle-fields, we would glance hastily. At Moodkee, of the British, fell two hundred and fifteen; at Ferozeshah, six hundred and ninety-four, gallant men and faithful soldiers. The long lists, also, of the wounded, which catalogue six hundred and fifty-seven sufferers at Moodkee, and swell to one thousand seven hundred and twenty-one at Ferozeshah, painfully attest the severity of the struggle, and the deadly precision of the foe. But the foe! who has numbered his dead? None; nor ever will. The pall of a decent oblivion has been tacitly cast upon the incalculable amount of his loss, which has exceeded the utmost extent of British loss, as much as his hordes of living warriors outnumbered by tens of thousands the British force at the dawn of the eventful day which looked on Moodkee—the Agincourt of India. "Is it not lawful," asks honest Fluellen, "to tell how many is killed?" "Yes," is the answer of our Fifth Harry—"Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgment, that God fought for us."

The route of the Sikhs at Ferozeshah was succeeded by nearly a month employed, as we are now aware, by both sides in making preparations, offensive and defensive, for further serious exertions. The Sikh army, upon its overthrow, retired, not in confusion and haste, but steadily and easily, towards the Sutlej, which they crossed about the 27th of December. They recrossed, however, soon after, and worked indefatigably in rearing those magnificent and powerful fortifications at Sobraon, with which we are yet destined in the course of our narrative to come into rude collision. The Governor-General, on the other hand, was busy in collecting and amassing the munitions of war of every description, for the purpose of forcing, if opposed, the passage of the Sutlej, and carrying his victorious standard into the heart of the Punjaub. But fortune was now about to shower her smiles upon a peculiar favourite. Pressed for supplies on their own bank, the Sikhs were endeavouring to draw them from the British side of the Upper Sutlej. In the fort and town of Dhurrumkote, which were filled with grain, they maintained a small garrison. Against this place, Major-General Sir Harry Smith was ordered, on the 18th of January, to move, with one brigade of his division, and a light field-battery. In the mean time, the Commander-in-Chief received information that the Sirdar Runjoor Singh, crossing from Philour at the head of a numerous force of all arms, had established himself between the old and new sources of the Sutlej, and threatened the rich and populous city of Loodianah. Sir Harry Smith was accordingly directed to advance by Jugraon towards Loodianah, with the brigade which had accompanied him to Dhurrumkote, while his second brigade, under Brigadier Wheeler, moved on to support him. "Then commenced," we learn from the Commander-in-Chief, "a series of very delicate combinations."

"The Major-General, breaking up from Jugraon, moved towards Loodianah; when the Sirdar, relying on the vast superiority of his forces; assumed the initiative, and endeavoured to intercept his progress, by marching in a line parallel to him, and opening upon his troops a furious cannonade. The Major-General continued coolly to manœuvre; and when the Sikh Sirdar, bending round one wing of his army, enveloped his flank, he extricated himself, by retiring, with the steadiness of a field-day, by echelon of battalions, and effected his communication with Loodianah, but not without severe loss.

"Reinforced by Brigadier Godby, he felt himself to be strong; but his manœuvres had thrown him out of communication with Brigadier Wheeler, and a portion of his baggage had fallen into the hands of the enemy. The Sikh Sirdar took up an intrenched position at Budhowal, supporting himself on its fort; but, threatened on either flank by General Smith and Brigadier Wheeler, finally decamped, and moved down to the Sutlej. The British troops made good their junction, and occupied the abandoned position of Budhowal; the Shekawattee brigade and her Majesty's 53d regiment, also added to the strength of the Major-General, and he prepared to attack the Sikh Sirdar on his new ground. But, on the 26th, Runjoor Singh was reinforced from the right bank with four thousand regular troops, twelve pieces of artillery, and a large force of cavalry.

"Emboldened by this accession of strength, he ventured on the measure of advancing towards Jugraon, apparently with the view of intercepting our communications by that route."[18]

The audacity of the Sikhs was doomed to meet a rough check. Wheeler having joined Sir Harry by long marches on the 26th of January, the troops required one day's rest. And now we have our hand upon the most delightful official despatch, and the most admirable picture of a battle, which has stirred our blood for many a day. Not a sentence of explanation do the words of Sir Harry Smith need, nor with a syllable of observation shall we rashly dare to gild his gold. Let us hear Cæsar dictating his commentary.

"At daylight on the 28th, my order of advance was, the cavalry in front, in contiguous columns of squadrons of regiments; two troops of horse artillery in the interval of brigades; the infantry in contiguous columns of brigades at intervals of deploying distance; artillery in the intervals, followed by two eight-inch howitzers, on travelling carriages, brought into the field from the fort of Loodianah by the indefatigable exertions of Lieutenant-Colonel Lane, horse artillery. Brigadier Godby's brigade, which I had marched out from Loodianah the previous evening, on the right, the Shekawattee infantry on the left, the 4th irregular cavalry and the Shekawattee cavalry considerably to the right, for the purpose of sweeping the banks of the wet mullah on my right, and preventing any of the enemy's horse attempting an inroad towards Loodianah, or any attempt upon the baggage assembled round the fort of Budhowal.

"In this order the troops moved forward towards the enemy, a distance of six miles, the advance conducted by Captain Waugh, 16th lancers, the Deputy-assistant Quartermaster of cavalry; Major Bradford of the 1st cavalry, and Lieutenant Strachey of the engineers—who had been jointly employed in the conduct of patrols up to the enemy's position, and for the purpose of reporting upon the facility and points of approach. Previously to the march of the troops, it had been intimated to me by Major Mackeson, that the information by spies led to the belief the enemy would move, somewhere at daylight, either on Jugraon, my position of Budhowal, or Loodianah. On a near approach to his outposts, this rumour was confirmed by a spy, who had just left his camp, saying the Sikh army was actually in march towards Jugraon. My advance was steady, my troops well in hand; and if he had anticipated me on the Jugraon road, I could have fallen upon his centre with advantage.

"From the tops of the houses of the village of Poorein, I had a distant view of the enemy. He was in motion, and appeared directly opposite my front on a ridge, of which the village of Aliwal may be regarded as the centre. His left appeared still to occupy its ground in the circular intrenchment; his right was brought forward and occupied the ridge. I immediately deployed the cavalry into line, and moved on. As I neared the enemy, the ground became most favourable for the troops to manœuvre, being open and hard grass land. I ordered the cavalry to take ground to the right and left by brigades, thus displaying the heads of the infantry columns, and as they reached the hard ground I directed them to deploy into line. Brigadier Godby's brigade was in direct echelon to the rear of the right—the Shekawattee infantry in like manner to the rear of my left. The cavalry in direct echelon on, and well to the rear of both flanks of the infantry. The artillery massed on the right, and centre, and left. After deployment, I observed the enemy's left to outflank me; I therefore broke into open columns and took ground to my right. When I had gained sufficient ground, the troops wheeled into line; there was no dust, the sun shone brightly. The manœuvres were performed with the celerity and precision of the most correct field-day. The glistening of the bayonets and swords of this order of battle was most imposing, and the line advanced. Scarcely had it moved forward 150 yards, when at 10 o'clock the enemy opened a fierce cannonade from his whole line. At first his balls fell short, but quickly reached us. Thus upon him, and capable of better ascertaining his position, I was compelled to halt the line, though under fire, for a few moments, until I ascertained that by bringing up my right and carrying the village of Aliwal, I could with great effect precipitate myself upon his left and centre. I therefore quickly brought Brigadier Godby's brigade, and with it and the 1st brigade under Brigadier Hicks, made a rapid and noble charge, carried the village, and two guns of large calibre. The line I ordered to advance—her Majesty's 31st foot and the native regiments contending for the front, and the battle became general. The enemy had a numerous body of cavalry on the heights to his left, and I ordered Brigadier Cureton to bring up the right brigade of cavalry; who, in the most gallant manner, dashed in among them, and drove them back upon their infantry. Meanwhile a second gallant charge to my right was made by the light cavalry and the body-guard. The Shekawattee brigade was moved well to the right, in support of Brigadier Cureton. When I observed the enemy's encampment, and saw it was full of infantry, I immediately brought upon it Brigadier Godby's brigade, by changing front, and taking the enemy's infantry en reverse. They drove them before them, and took some guns without a check.

"While these operations were going on upon the right, and the enemy's flank was thus driven back, I occasionally observed the brigade under Brigadier Wheeler, an officer in whom I have the greatest confidence, charging and carrying guns and every thing before it, again connecting his line and moving on in a manner which ably displayed the coolness of the brigadier, and the gallantry of his irresistible brigade—her Majesty's 50th foot, the 48th native infantry, and the Sirmoor battalion, although the loss was, I regret to say, severe in the 50th. Upon the left, Brigadier Wilson, with her Majesty's 53d and 30th native infantry, equalled in celerity and regularity their comrades on the right, and this brigade was opposed to the 'Aieen' troops, called Avitabile's, when the fight was fiercely raging.

"The enemy, well driven back on his left and centre, endeavoured to hold his right to cover the passage of the river and he strongly occupied the village of Bhoondee. I directed a squadron of the 16th lancers, under Major Smith and Captain Pearson, to charge a body to the right of the village; which they did in the most gallant and determined style, bearing every thing before them, as a squadron under Captain Bere had previously done, going through a square of infantry, wheeling about and re-entering the square in the most intrepid manner with the deadly lance. This charge was accompanied by the 3d light cavalry, under Major Angelo, and as gallantly sustained. The largest gun upon the field, and seven others, were then captured; while the 53d regiment carried the village by the bayonet, and the 30th N.I. wheeled round to the rear in a most spirited manner. Lieutenant-Colonel Alexander's and Captain Turton's troops of horse artillery, under Major Lawrenson, dashed almost among the flying infantry, committing great havoc, until about eight hundred or one thousand men rallied under the high bank of a nullah, and opened a heavy but ineffectual fire from below the bank. I immediately directed the 30th native infantry to charge them, which they were able to do upon their left flank, while in a line in rear of the village. This native corps nobly obeyed my orders, and rushed among the Avitabile troops, driving them from under the bank, and exposing them once more to the deadly fire of twelve guns within 300 yards. The destruction was very great, as may be supposed from guns served as these were. Her Majesty's 53d regiment moved forward in support of the 30th N.I., by the right of the village. The battle was won—our troops advancing with the most perfect order to the common focus, the passage of the river. The enemy, completely hemmed in, were flying from our fire, and precipitating themselves in disordered masses into the ford and boats, in the utmost confusion and consternation. Our eight-inch howitzers soon began to play upon their boats, when the 'debris' of the Sikh army appeared upon the opposite and high bank of the river, flying in every direction, although a sort of line was attempted to countenance their retreat, until all our guns commenced a furious cannonade, when they quickly receded. Nine guns were on the verge of the river by the ford. It appears as if they had been unlimbered to cover the ford. These, being loaded, were fired once upon our advance. To others were sticking in the river; one of them, we got out. Two were seen to sink in the quicksands; two were dragged to the opposite bank and abandoned. These, and the one in the middle of the river, were gallantly spiked by Lieutenant Holmes, of the 11th irregular cavalry, and Gunner Scott, of the 1st troop 2nd brigade horse artillery, who rode into the stream, and crossed for the purpose, covered by our guns and light infantry.

"Thus ended the battle of Aliwal, one of the most glorious victories ever achieved in India. By the united efforts of her Majesty's and the Hon. Company's troops, every gun the enemy had fell into our hands, as I infer from his never opening one upon us from the opposite bank of the river, which is high and favourable for the purpose; 52 guns are now in the ordnance park, two sank in the bed of the Sutlej, and two were spiked on the opposite bank—making a total of 56 pieces of cannon captured or destroyed.[19] Many jingalls, which were attached to Avitabile's corps, and which aided in the defence of the village of Bhoondee, have also been taken. The whole army of the enemy has been driven headlong over the difficult ford of a broad river; his camp, baggage, stores of ammunition, and of grain—his all, in fact—wrested from him by the repeated charges of cavalry and infantry, aided by the guns of Alexander, Turton, Lane, Mill, Boileau, and of the Shekawattee brigade, and by the eight-inch howitzers—our guns literally being constantly ahead of every thing. The determined bravery of all was as conspicuous as noble. I am unwont to praise when praise is not merited, and I here most avowedly express my firm opinion and conviction, that no troops in any battle on record ever behaved more nobly. British and native (no distinction) cavalry all vying with her Majesty's 16th lancers, and striving to head in the repeated charges. Our guns and gunners, officers and men, may be equalled, but cannot be excelled, by any artillery in the world. Throughout the day no hesitation—a bold and intrepid advance; and thus it is that our loss is comparatively small, though I deeply regret to say severe. The enemy fought with much resolution; they maintained frequent rencounters with our cavalry hand to hand. In one charge of infantry upon her Majesty's 16th lancers, they threw away their muskets, and came on with their swords and targets against the lance."[20]

"There was no dust, the sun shone brightly." Unquestionably, not a particle of dust, and all bright sunshine, from the first paragraph to the last of this unrivalled production. It is a diorama and a panorama of the battle. Truly, oh reader!

"Duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,—
Would'st thou not stir in this!"

In the luminous rays of such a description, we are made eye-witnesses of the stirring dashing scene in all its circumstantial variety and general grandeur. What a sight it is, that steady advance with his "troops well in hand!" But for a peculiar flashing of the eyes, and sternness in the features, of the men, we should have fancied them in the Home Park at Windsor, encircled, not by ferocious Sikhs in the horrid harness of war, but by the graceful array of gentler—though, in sooth, more irresistible—foes. Sir Harry Smith has disappeared—very likely hidden himself behind a baggage waggon or a huge drum. Sapient speculator! behold him yonder on the house-top, darting his eagle vision down into the centre of the distant enemy, and unmasking and anticipating their movements with unerring foresight. Many serious things his vigilance must watch; but, without distracting his attention, the "glistening of the bayonets and swords of his order of battle," fills his heart with boyish glee. The fierce cannonade from the whole hostile line has begun, and, although the balls fall short at first, quickly reaches us. Under this murderous shower, he halts his line for a minute's pregnant reflection, as an elderly gentleman, playing golf on a rainy day, takes his spectacles from his nose, and wipes the water-drops away, before venturing the decisive stroke of the game. Nothing escapes him; every thing is done in the nick of time. Infantry, cavalry, and artillery, charge to the right or the left, or straight before them, dash through the enemy's front, or scour the flanks, or sweep the rear, perambulate squares, and perforate encampments, just as if the serried ranks of the Sikhs had been unsubstantial creatures of the imagination, or mist-wreaths from the "wet nullah," which a lively fancy had invested with human form and warlike panoply. But one hundred and fifty-one gallant men killed, and four hundred and thirteen wounded, sufficiently proved that "one of the most glorious victories ever achieved in India," had not been won in a combat with phantoms.

The current of the Sutlej hurried melancholy and portentous tidings from Aliwal to the Sikhs at Sobraon. The bodies of their slaughtered countrymen rolling down in hundreds, announced, in terms too dismally unequivocal, another tremendous blow of British might. In the breasts of such a people—ay, or of any people—these ominous visitations could hardly be the harbingers of hope, to cheer them in the final death-struggle, which they knew to be hourly approaching. The fortifications at Sobraon had been repeatedly reconnoitred by the Commander-in-Chief, who satisfied himself that not fewer than thirty thousand men, the best of the Khalsa troops, were covered by these formidable intrenchments, guarded by seventy pieces of cannon, and united by a good bridge to a reserve on the opposite bank, where the enemy had a considerable camp and some artillery, commanding and flanking his fieldworks on the British bank. On the 8th of February, Sir Harry Smith's triumphant division having rejoined headquarters, it was resolved to attack, on the morning of the 10th, the Sikh intrenchments.

"The battering and disposed field artillery was then put in position in an extended semicircle, embracing within its fire the works of the Sikhs. It had been intended that the cannonade should have commenced at daybreak; but so heavy a mist hung over the plain and river, that it became necessary to wait until the rays of the sun had penetrated it and cleared the atmosphere. Meanwhile, on the margin of the Sutlej on our left, two brigades of Major-General Sir R. Dick's division, under his personal command, stood ready to commence the assault against the enemy's extreme right. His 7th brigade, in which was the 10th foot, reinforced by the 53d foot, and led by Brigadier Stacey, was to head the attack, supported, at two hundred yards' distance, by the 6th brigade, under Brigadier Wilkinson. In reserve was the 5th brigade, under Brigadier the Hon. T. Ashburnham, which was to move forward from the intrenched village of Kodeewalla, leaving, if necessary, a regiment for its defence. In the centre, Major-General Gilbert's division was deployed for support or attack, its right resting on and in the village of the little Sobraon. Major-General Sir Harry Smith's was formed near the village of Guttah, with its right thrown up towards the Sutlej. Brigadier Cureton's cavalry threatened, by feigned attacks, the ford at Hurreekee and the enemy's horse, under Lall Singh Misr, on the opposite bank. Brigadier Campbell, taking an intermediate position in the rear, between Major-General Gilbert's right and Major-General Sir Harry Smith's left, protected both. Major-General Sir Joseph Thackwell, under whom was Brigadier Scott, held in reserve on our left, ready to act as circumstances might demand, the rest of the cavalry.

"Our battery of nine-pounders, enlarged into twelves, opened near the little Sobraon with a brigade of howitzers formed from the light field-batteries and troops of horse artillery, shortly after daybreak. But it was half-past six before the whole of our artillery fire was developed. It was most spirited and well-directed. I cannot speak in terms too high of the judicious disposition of the guns, their admirable practice, or the activity with which the cannonade was sustained; but notwithstanding the formidable calibre of our iron guns, mortars, and howitzers, and the admirable way in which they were served, and aided by a rocket battery, it would have been visionary to expect that they could, within any limited time, silence the fire of seventy pieces behind well-constructed batteries of earth, plank, and fascines, or dislodge troops covered either by redoubts or epaulements, or within a treble line of trenches. The effect of the cannonade was, as has since been proved by an inspection of the camp, most severely felt by the enemy; but it soon became evident that the issue of this struggle must be brought to the arbitrament of musketry and the bayonet.

"At nine o'clock Brigadier Stacey's brigade, supported on either flank by Captains Horsford's and Fordyce's batteries, and Lieutenant-Colonel Lane's troop of horse artillery, moved to the attack in admirable order. The infantry and guns aided each other correlatively. The former marched steadily on in line, which they halted only to correct when necessary. The latter took up successive positions at the gallop, until at length they were within three hundred yards of the heavy batteries of the Sikhs; but, notwithstanding the regularity, and coolness, and scientific character of this assault, which Brigadier Wilkinson well supported, so hot was the fire of cannon, musketry, and zumboorucks kept up by the Khalsa troops, that it seemed for some moments impossible that the intrenchments could be won under it; but soon persevering gallantry triumphed, and the whole army had the satisfaction to see the gallant Brigadier Stacey's soldiers driving the Sikhs in confusion before them within the area of their encampment. The 10th foot, under Lieutenant-Colonel Franks, now for the first time brought into serious contact with the enemy, greatly distinguished themselves. This regiment never fired a shot till it got within the works of the enemy. The onset of her Majesty's 53d foot was as gallant and effective. The 43d and 59th N.I., brigaded with them, emulated both in cool determination.

"At the moment of this first success, I directed Brigadier the Hon. T. Ashburnham's brigade to move on in support, and Major-General Gilbert's and Sir Harry Smith's divisions to throw out their light troops to threaten their works, aided by artillery. As these attacks of the centre and right commenced, the fire of our heavy guns had first to be directed to the right, and then gradually to cease, but at one time the thunder of full 120 pieces of ordnance reverberated in this mighty combat through the valley of the Sutlej; and as it was soon seen that the weight of the whole force within the Sikh camp was likely to be thrown upon the two brigades that had passed its trenches, it became necessary to convert into close and serious attacks the demonstrations with skirmishers and artillery of the centre and right; and the battle raged with inconceivable fury from right to left. The Sikhs, even when at particular points their intrenchments were mastered with the bayonet, strove to regain them by the fiercest conflict, sword in hand. Nor was it until the cavalry of the left, under Major-General Sir Joseph Thackwell, had moved forward, and ridden through the openings of the intrenchments made by our sappers, in single file, and re-formed as they passed them, and the 3d dragoons, whom no obstacle usually held formidable by horse appears to check, had on this day, as at Ferozeshah, galloped over and cut down the obstinate defenders of batteries and fieldworks, and until the full weight of three divisions of infantry, with every field artillery gun which could be sent to their aid, had been cast into the scale, that victory finally declared for the British. The fire of the Sikhs first slackened and then nearly ceased; and the victors then pressing them on every side, precipitated them in masses over the bridge, and into the Sutlej, which a sudden rise of seven inches had rendered hardly fordable. In their efforts to reach the right bank, through the deepened water, they suffered from our horse artillery a terrible carnage. Hundreds fell under this cannonade; hundreds upon hundreds were drowned in attempting the perilous passage. Their awful slaughter, confusion, and dismay, were such as would have excited compassion in the hearts of their generous conquerors, if the Khalsa troops had not, in the early part of the action, sullied their gallantry by slaughtering and barbarously mangling every wounded soldier whom, in the vicissitudes of attack, the fortune of war left at their mercy. I must pause in this narrative especially to notice the determined hardihood and bravery with which our two battalions of Goorkhas, the Sirmoor and Nusseree, met the Sikhs wherever they were opposed to them. Soldiers of small stature, but indomitable spirit, they vied in ardent courage in the charge with the grenadiers of our own nation, and, armed with the short weapon of their mountains, gave a terror to the Sikhs throughout this great combat.

"Sixty-seven pieces of cannon, upwards of two hundred camel swivels, (zumboorucks,) numerous standards, and vast munitions of war, captured by our troops, are the pledges and trophies of our victory. The battle was over by eleven in the morning, and in the forenoon I caused our engineers to burn a part and to sink a part of the vaunted bridge of the Khalsa army, across which they had boastfully come once more to defy us, and to threaten India with ruin and devastation."[21]

This stupendous battle—the climax and the close of a campaign unparalleled in many of its circumstances in modern history—was in itself an epitome of every thing most dreadful and most imposing, most destructive and most heroic, which had distinguished its predecessors. Here fell gloriously, at the moment of victory, Dick, the veteran of the Peninsula and Waterloo, "displaying the same energy and intrepidity as when, thirty-five years ago, in Spain, he was the distinguished leader of the 42d Highlanders." No better man—no better soldier—sleeps the sleep of the brave. The lists of our loss show 320 dead, while 2063 wounded bear additional testimony to the desperation and havoc of this sanguinary action. Ancient times involuntarily rush back upon us, recalling the youthful Conqueror of Macedon, who, radiant with the triple glories of the Granicus, of Issus, and of Arbela, vanquished Porus at the Hydaspes, and paused in his career, with a sigh, not far from the banks of the Sutlej. He was wont, and justly, to attribute his Asiatic triumphs to his faithful Macedonians. Does not Britain attribute her Asiatic triumphs to her faithful sons? Yes; with the important explanation, that Europeans and Indians are alike British. Between them no demarcation was made, or seen, or felt, in the majestic spectacle of the campaign of the Sutlej. Their toil and their perils were in common—so shall be their honours and their fame: and while all men agree that every excellence which can illuminate and dignify the character of a British soldier, was displayed in stainless brightness by our European regiments on these colossal battle-fields, all men will also agree that the exact and cloudless counterpart of such merit shone in the indefatigable hardihood, the indomitable valour, the immoveable, incorruptible fidelity of our native Indian troops.

The banners of our country have crossed the Sutlej, and advanced to Lahore. But our present task is done. The policy which has now to regulate the internal condition of a great country, will be better discussed hereafter. We have simply narrated the course of a terrible necessity, which, against the desires of this country, has made the ravages of war a bloody but unavoidable prelude to the beneficent functions of peace. The conflict was not of our seeking. Be the consequences what they may, the Sikhs will have themselves to blame, should it so happen, for the illustration of the maxim, that "when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner."