On the evening of the 9th of February, as I rode along the river, in company with some brother-officers, we perceived that the enemy had just brought six guns into a village on the high bank above Hureeka. These were probably planted to defend the ford, in case the British cavalry should attempt to cross the river at the same time that the entrenchments were attacked.
About sunset, we observed the enemy's patrols taking their usual excursion along the banks; and so proud were the troops in the village of the new playthings which they had got, that they could not resist the temptation of showing us they were all kept in good order, by firing two or three rounds from each gun.
European nations are not much in the habit of wasting ammunition in that playful manner, and when a battery opens, it generally means something; but this is by no means the case amongst the Asiatics. The Sikhs especially delight in noise, and neglect no opportunity of indulging the propensity. Indeed, it was a matter of surprise to us, how they could ever rest with such a perpetual clatter of cannon and musketry going on in their camp.
With the above-named exception, the Sikh pickets did not appear more on the alert than usual; nor were they strengthened at any point; so that there is no reason to suppose the enemy anticipated the attack which was to ensue in a few hours.
That night, when assembled in our mess-tent, we indulged in a discussion as to the means available for repelling the Sikhs from the insolent position they had assumed on our territories; but many were of opinion that the day of aggression was yet far distant; and some thought—nay, decided—that Sir Henry Hardinge would not feel himself prepared to cross the Sutlej before the ensuing autumn. The argument, when at its height, was interrupted by the hasty arrival of a staff-officer, with orders for the brigadier. Those orders were for the preparation of the mighty machinery which was to be brought into operation ere the morning sun had lit the rival camps, and which was destined to hurl the boasting invaders from the segment of land they occupied, headlong into the pitiless waters of the Sutlej.
A few weeks ago, the eve of a battle, suddenly announced, would have sent half the party at table to make their wills, or to prepare for the coming event as well as a few hours' notice would permit; but now, most of these preparations had already been made;—(and as few were sanguine enough to suppose they could last much longer, as fully half their comrades had been killed or crippled, and the enemy appeared fresher than ever,)—the approaching struggle excited perhaps a trifle more of interest than would have been bestowed on a hurdle-race or steeple-chase, to come off next morning.
We were ordered to be under arms and moving about two hours before daybreak; and therefore an early retreat was advisable, in order to be in proper condition for the labours which the coming day threatened to entail on some, and to terminate for ever with others.
However lightly the subject may be treated, with lively companions and flashing lights around you, yet, when the scene is changed to the dusky canvas walls of a solitary tent, and the subsiding hubbub of the camp leaves one to court sleep or reflection, I confess, for my own part, that the eve of a battle has never been the calmest of my nightly rests. The probability that ere to-morrow's sun has set we may be one of that loathsome class for whom the "hiatus maxime deflendus"—"to be filled up by spade and mattock"—is awaiting, usually causes a retrospect which, unless with a man possessing the philosophy or vanity of a Cicero,[49] must be somewhat perplexing. When the deeds of a life are hurriedly compressed into a few hours' consideration, I have always found the dark side inevitably gaining the ascendance, and no effort of will would cause the imaginary sphere to revolve and present a luminous surface to view. That austere judge, whom the ancients described as inflicting punishment on the hapless shades who, though guiltless of heinous crimes, had yet neglected numerous opportunities of benefiting mankind, appeared to me to discharge his duty so rationally, that I could not impugn the decision.
Although our actions may be matter of very light reflection whilst time floats gaily onwards, yet a life of uselessness does not afford a very satisfactory retrospect, especially when it appears likely to come to an abrupt conclusion. Seeking earnestly for some familiar spirit to avert the unpromising theme, the demon Ambition rises, and points, with beckoning gestures, to worldly distinctions, success, and military renown. The fascinating vision then appears entitled to be treated with some respect, and away flies Mammon with his unresisting victim. Cruel seducer! As in the case of a rustic caught by the recruiting serjeant with a bunch of coloured ribbons and an Eldorado in the distance, sad experience alone unmasks the sombre reality, and the disappointed aspirant to a shadow, finds that rank and honours are reserved for the soldier's declining years; but youth and glory are rarely companions. [50] Perhaps it may be good policy to keep the phantom hovering in sight, when possession destroys the mistaken pursuit, or at all events, discovers its true value. Notwithstanding these trite complaints, the subordinate regimental ranks have ever proved faithful to their duty, and the English soldier has continued "to conquer under the cold shade of aristocracy."[51]
In the midst of reflections of this useless nature, I was roused by the mild voice of a native attendant whispering, as softly as if he feared the enemy might overhear him, that the camp was stirring, and that the appointed hour had arrived. To my surprise, I found that the hands of my watch confirmed the Hindoo's assertion; and my night of intended repose had slipped away in a less profitable employment.