For Englishmen no debate was graver than the one on the state of the nation, which Mr. Disraeli raised at the end of the Session. He attributed the distress in the country to Free Trade, and he attacked every branch of Ministerial policy. But the weak point of his brilliant harangue was that it meant nothing, for not only was he unable to take over the Government himself, but he had no practical proposal to make, save his insinuated suggestion to restore Protection. Sir Robert Peel’s speech, however, carried the House in favour of the Government. It was a complete vindication of his fiscal policy, and its conclusion was memorable, because in it he traced our immunity from revolutionary excesses to his abandonment of taxes on food in 1846.

Early in the year the Queen was disturbed by evil tidings from India. Hard fighting was reported from the banks of the Chenab. The Sikhs, it was true, were in retreat; but our victory was a barren one, as we captured neither prisoners, guns, nor standards, and sacrificed two of our Generals (Cureton and Havelock), who fell at the head of their regiments. In losing Cureton, her Majesty lost the finest cavalry officer in her service. The fact was that, though we had conquered, we had not subdued the Sikhs at the end of our first war with them. In April, 1848, a Sikh chief murdered two British officers at Multan. This was followed by a general outbreak, which was met on the whole successfully by the desperate efforts of Lieutenant Edwardes and a mere handful of men. Multan was besieged in June, 1848; but 5,000 of our Sikh auxiliaries deserted to the enemy, and our army had to retreat. We had not enough troops in the Punjab to control the rising, and our auxiliaries under the Maharajah were not trustworthy. On the other hand, the rebel chief Shere Sing, at the beginning of 1849, had 40,000 men under his orders, and once again British supremacy in India was trembling in the balance. On the 5th of March, however, still worse news came to London. Lord Gough, with inconceivable recklessness, had, on the 14th of January, attacked the enemy in a strong position at Chillianwalla with a small British force worn out by fatigue. The conditions of the combat ensured disaster. Our troops, it is true, took the Sikh positions, but during

THE BRITISH TROOPS ENTERING MULTAN.

the night had to abandon them. The loss of life on our side was enormous, and Lord Gough, though he fought like a hero in the thickest of the mêlée, was not to be found at a critical moment to give orders. The news of this disaster was received with universal indignation. The Government attempted to allay public feeling by appointing Sir William Gomm to succeed Lord Gough; but as Sir William was believed to be equally incompetent, a demand for Sir Charles Napier’s appointment became clamant. “We dined,” writes Lord Malmesbury, in his Diary on the 4th of March, “with the Colchesters, and were introduced to Sir Charles Napier. He is a little

SIR HARRY SMITH.

man, with grey hair brushed back from his face, with an immense hooked, pointed nose, small eyes, and wears spectacles, very like the conventional face of a Jew. He is appointed to retrieve our affairs in India, and when the Duke of Wellington named him to the post he at first hesitated, until the Duke told him if he did not go he would go himself.”[3] Why did Napier hesitate? Because, it seems, the Directors of the East India Company not only objected to his appointment, but threatened to prevent him from having a seat on the Council, an insult which Napier could hardly brook. “You have no idea of the difficulties I have had in dealing with these men,” said Sir John Cam Hobhouse, then President of the Indian Board of Control, to Mr. Greville. “I have brought the Government, the Duke of Wellington, and the Queen all to bear upon them, and all in vain.” Mr. Greville advised Hobhouse to bring another power—that of the House of Commons—to bear on the Company. In other words, he advised the Government to go down boldly and inform Parliament that they had appointed Napier, and if the Directors of the Company refused to pay his salary as a Member of Council, to ask the House to vote it. The Cabinet appointed Napier, and the Directors acquiesced, fearing to face the responsibility of thwarting the Government in doing what the Queen and the country desired.