Through the Sikh War: A Tale of the Conquest of the Punjaub

by G. A. Henty

"I am glad to be back again," the colonel said as they rode across the river. "It has been a very successful little expedition, and the lesson has been so severe that I do not think we are likely to have any more frontier trouble for some time. The other tribesmen will all be awed at the punishment we have inflicted."

"What will you do with the hostages, uncle?"

"I shall keep them for three or four months, and then send them back with a message to the effect that, feeling the tribes have been sufficiently punished, and being assured that they can now be relied upon to abstain from giving trouble, I am willing to trust them, and will therefore no longer deprive the chiefs of their children. Such clemency will aid the effect of the sharp lesson we have administered."

The joy of the villagers at the return of their wives, daughters, and cattle was unbounded, and blessings were showered on the governor, who had shown himself so zealous and powerful in protecting those under his rule.

Another two days' journey took them to the fortress, where their arrival with the eleven hundred captured cattle was hailed with lively satisfaction by the garrison.

Things returned to their normal state. Percy studied, rode, and drilled during the day, and spent his evenings in the zenana with his uncle and aunt, and from the former received a detailed account of the course of Sikh politics since the death of Runjeet Singh.

Up to the time of the death of the maharajah in 1839 the most friendly relations had been maintained between the Punjaub and the British. He was succeeded by his son, Khurruk Singh. He was a weak man, who possessed neither the firmness nor ambition of his father, and the real power was in the hands of Nonehal Singh, his son. He was a fiery young man, and shared to the full the hostility felt toward the British by most of the Sikh chiefs. His father died, and there was a general idea that the young rajah would speedily declare war against the English. He was, however, killed on his return from his father's funeral, by the elephant on which he was riding running against a beam supporting some stonework, which fell and killed both Nonehal and another prince who was riding with him.

There was little doubt that the affair was not an accident, but that the mahoot had been bribed by the adherents of Sher Singh, a reputed son of Runjeet Singh, who had many powerful supporters in his claim to the throne. The chief of these was Dhyan Singh, the prime minister of Runjeet, who had been removed from his office by Khurruk Singh, and who, with his two brothers, had been all-powerful during the later years of the Lion. A number of the chiefs, however, were by no means disposed to again submit to what was practically the rule of Dhyan and his brothers. Sher Singh had the advantage that, like Nonehal, he was very popular with the army, and for the moment he obtained possession of Lahore. He was, however, expelled by the mother of the late Nonehal, an able and ambitious woman. She, however, made the mistake of refusing Dhyan any employment, and the ex-vizier soon organized a party sufficiently strong to recall Sher Singh.

The ranee ordered the gates to be shut, but General Ventura ordered the soldiers to open them, and the ranee fled. As soon as Sher Singh was seated on the throne, he handed over the entire management of business to Dhyan Singh, and gave himself up to hunting, and drinking, and other pleasures. Dhyan was greatly offended at the conduct of the prince, who owed his elevation to the throne to him, and endeavoured to persuade him to act in a manner more worthy of his position, assuring him that the Sikhs would never submit to be governed by a prince who neglected all public affairs, and was habitually drunk. The prince was offended at the remonstrances of his minister. His boon companions fanned the flame of anger, and persuaded him while in a fit of drunkenness to sign an order for the execution of Dhyan Singh. The latter, however, was kept well informed by his agents in the mahurajah's household of what was going on, and saw that his only hope of safety was in striking the first blow. He therefore gave orders to Ajeet Singh that the rajah should be killed. The officer was more rapid than the agents of Sher Singh, and the latter was shot immediately, and his son was at the same time murdered. Ajeet, however, either from disappointment at not receiving from Dhyan a reward equal to his expectations, or from some other cause, shot him in the back, and he fell dead a few hours after the murder of the maharajah.

Heera Singh, Dhyan's son, a great favourite with the troops, knew that the death of the maharajah had been determined upon by his father, and had left the city and gone to the camp of General Avitabile, another of the European officers of the Punjaub army. When the messenger arrived with the news that his father too was dead, he was in the act of haranguing the troops and preparing them for the news of the death of Sher Singh. Heera ascended to the flat roof of Avitabile's house, and sent messengers to all the sirdars who happened to be in Lahore, begging them to come to him. On their arrival he unbuckled his sword and handed it to them, saying, "I am left alone and fatherless, and I throw myself on your protection. Either kill me or give me your support."