1849
The year 1849 was one of more importance to continental Europe than to the nations of any other portion of the world. It was, however, a year of considerable events for the British empire. In India a sanguinary war was brought to a successful termination, and a large and fertile territory added to the British dominions. At the Cape of Good Hope the colonists successfully resisted the authority of the mother country. In Canada, insurrectionary violence interrupted the usual order of government. In Cephalonia the disloyalty and fanaticism of the Greek population found violent vent, and generally the greatest circumspection was required on the part of the home government in reference to our vast colonial empire. In foreign affairs England preserved a dignified non-interference, except in the case of Naples and Sicily, where her interposition brought neither honour nor profit. In the case of Turkey it was otherwise; the advice tendered to the Porte by the British ambassador averted conflict, and saved an ancient ally from humiliation. The chief difficulty of the empire was Ireland. Constitutional government was there impossible, crime was rampant, distress all-penetrating, and the people seditious. At home the visitation of a fearful pestilence caused distress and sorrow, while party fury rent the parliament and disturbed the repose of the country. Through every trial to which she was put, the genius and resolution of England conducted her, under the care and blessing of Him who can elevate and abase empires, and the great law of whose moral government is, “Righteousness exalteth a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people.”
PROSECUTION OF THE WAR IN INDIA, AND ANNEXATION OF THE PUNJAUB.
The general consequences of the battle of Chillianwallah (an account of which engagement concluded our relation of the war in India, in the last chapter) were the encouragement of the Sikh sirdars, soldiery, and people, and the renewal of exertion on the part of the civil and military authorities of India for the vigorous continuance of the war. In England the news of the battle produced sensations of alarm, and indignant dissatisfaction. In parliament the subject was mooted angrily, not only by the opposition, but by the more radical supporters of the government. Lord John Russell, however, quieted many fears by announcing, which he did in his most pompous manner, that Sir Charles Napier had been selected to command the army in India. This was received with loud cheers and every demonstration of confidence. Had Lord John stated that an army of thirty thousand European soldiers was about to be dispatched to save the glory of the British arms in India, the tidings could not have inspired a sense of security more complete than appeared to be entertained by the house from the announcement of this one name. Sir Charles had retired from the government of Scinde, having quarrelled with the Company and the governor-general. No two human beings could be assorted with less likelihood of concord than Lord Dalhousie and Sir Charles Napier. With Lord Hardinge the eccentric general could have agreed better; but he was a man so much more just than that nobleman, and so much more able and original in his conceptions as a military man and a statesman, that they also would have been very ill-assorted. Sir Charles Napier, during his government of Scinde, had acquired such a knowledge of the government of India, civil and military, and differed so widely from the principles applied to that government, that there could be little hope of his long retaining any command or government in India. Sir Charles had complained warmly of the way in which the army of India was officered; of the love of ease, and the indulgence in luxury which had begun to characterise the officers of that service; of the little sympathy with their men which the officers of some portions of the Company’s troops betrayed; and of the mode of recruiting, especially in selecting soldiers from the Brahmin caste, rather than from Ghoorkhas, Beloochees, and low-caste Hindoos. These views were so distasteful to the governor-general and chief officers of state in India, that the gallant general was set down as a very troublesome fellow, whose presence in India was more mischievous than useful, who prided himself more on Meannee than Scinde was worth, and whose essays of government there were odd, oppressive, and out of the routine of Indian government. Sir Charles had given just cause for as many complaints against himself as he had made of others; this the government at home knew well; but the board of control, and the board of directors also, felt that the public dissatisfaction caused by the battle of Chillianwallah, must be soothed, and knowing the supreme confidence which the public felt in the eccentric but heroic and intellectual general, they nominated him to the post of commander-in-chief of the army in India. Sir Charles was very unwilling to accept this command, and it was alleged that he only yielded to the importunities of his friend, the Duke of Wellington, then commander-in-chief of the army, who was represented as having said, “Either you go, or I go.” This high compliment was so felt by the sturdy old warrior, that he is said to have instantly acquiesced. The opinions of this brave chief on Indian affairs were much canvassed at the time, and much more canvassed since. Circumstances arose to justify many of them, and in few instances did his predictions fail. It was supposed that the Punjaub would be the earliest scene of his exploits, and concerning it he thus expressed himself:—“A large country full of rivers, mountains, climates, plains, deserts, supplies scarce, and a hostile, well-armed, brave people, apparently resolved to wage a partizan warfare.” The population was, on the whole, better inclined to us than the army, nor did they show so much a disposition to wage what is called a partizan war, as to risk the fate of their country and the endurance of their power upon regular warfare, conducted in well-arranged campaigns and general battle. So far Sir Charles somewhat mistook the people against whom he was sent out as the especial champion of his country, but whom he was never destined to encounter.
His opinion on the constitution of the army has been already glanced at. Concerning its dangers in a campaign, involving long marches and distant operations, he thus wrote:—“Suppose the army in march, and to consist of ten thousand fighting men, and that an enemy attacks the fighting men and camp followers, amounting in the mass to forty thousand or sixty thousand men, of which thirty thousand or fifty thousand are unorganised, unmanageable camp-followers; suppose them to be attacked suddenly, and that when so attacked, they all rush back upon the column of fighting men, as they always do, and always will do, until well organised. When you have painted this pretty picture in your mind—this picture of noise, confusion, danger, and slaughter—I will ask you how the column of ten thousand fighting men are to fight? borne down by multitudes—confused by noise—how are they to form in order of battle? If once, by the exertion of their officers, they do form, how are they to fire?—on their own followers! their own animals! What may happen no one can tell; but human foresight says that the whole will stand a fair chance of being utterly defeated. It is said that this took place, and caused, in a great measure, the Cabul massacre. I can easily believe it.”
The following warnings were prophetic:—“Let the army be in every way worthy of the empire that it won and holds—holds by discipline! Let not the word become an empty boast. Let it not lose its reality. Let not victory lull our soldiers to sleep. Let every British officer recollect that powerful nations surround our Indian empire; that they are rapidly acquiring our military system, our tactics, our arms. Let him compare our earlier battles with our last—Plassey with Ferozashooshah and Sobraon—setting our losses in killed and wounded at each battle in juxta-position. Let us look to these matters, that we may not have to exclaim with Pyrrhus at Asculum, ‘Another such victory will undo us!’”
But notwithstanding the dangers which were thus the subject of the military seer’s discourse, he had a high opinion of the Indian army as a whole, as the following quotation proves:—“The Indian army, when well commanded is indomitable: it is capable of subjugating all the countries between the Black and Yellow Seas. The population from which it is drawn is so numerous and warlike—the land so wealthy—that the noble Indian army may vie with any force existing, in numbers, courage, and equipment. Its discipline and intelligence are in proportion. The European officers are all English, Irish, and Scotch gentlemen, whose honour and courage have created in their troops such an intrepid spirit as to render India secure against every evil from which an army can protect a country.”
Notwithstanding the supposed necessity of Sir Charles Napier’s appointment, no great dispatch was used in his departure, and the public began to suppose that the object of the government in this delay was to gain time for Lord Gough to redeem his honour. This increased the public irritation, which was exasperated by the private letters that reached England from Lahore, and from Lord Gough’s own camp. These letters led the English public to believe that a general panic prevailed, not only in the Punjaub, but at the head-quarters of Lord Gough’s army. The following are specimens of the letters, which, on their arrival in England, so disturbed the public mind:—
“I have much pleasure in giving you the following latest information from the commander-in-chief’s camp, dated 16th instant; it indeed has been a sad business, and it is impossible to predict when our mishaps, and such fearful butchery and wanton sacrifice of life will end or stop, under such a commander-in-chief. Unless the governor-general recalls Lord Gough to the provinces, the chances ate he will not only lose the splendid army under his command, which he has already done his best to cripple and weaken, but he will so compromise the government that the most serious apprehension may be entertained as to the ultimate result of this contest.