To instil new courage and confidence into the waverers was no easy task; but coolly and sagaciously, as one who understood the cause of their disheartenment, and could make some allowances for their misconduct, Pollock addressed himself to the work of re-animating and re-assuring them. He made them feel that they had been placed under the care of one who was mindful of their welfare and jealous of their honour—one who overlooked nothing that contributed to the health and comfort of his men, and who would never call upon them to make sacrifices to which he would not cheerfully submit himself. There was, in all that he did, such an union of kindness and firmness; he was so mild, so considerate, and yet so decided, that the Sepoys came in time to regard him with that child-like faith which, under prosperous circumstances, is one of their most noticeable characteristics; and when the hour of trial came they were not found wanting.
All through the months of February and March, Pollock and his regiments remained inactive in the neighbourhood of Peshawur. Mortifying as it was to the General to be compelled to halt so long at the entrance of the Khybur Pass, no other course was open to him, at the time, that did not threaten renewed disaster. Pollock’s position was, doubtless, painful, but it was not perplexing. His duty in this conjuncture was plain. The eyes of all India were turned upon him. The safety of the gallant garrison of Jellalabad was to be secured by his advance. Sale and Macgregor were writing urgent letters, calling upon him to push on without delay; but it was still his duty to halt. The Sepoys were gradually recovering both their health and their spirits. But reinforcements were coming across the Punjab, with British dragoons and horse artillery among them; and nothing did more to animate and re-assure those who had been discouraged by previous failure, than the knowledge that when they again advanced they would be supported by fresh troops, strong in every branch, and numbering among them a good proportion of stout European soldiers. Had the advance been ordered before the arrival of these reinforcements, it is at least a probable contingency that some of the native regiments would have stood fast, and, by open mutiny almost in the face of the enemy, have heaped up before us a mountain of difficulty, such as no prudence and no energy on the part of a commander could ever suffice to overcome.
Still it required much firmness to resist the pressing appeals made to Pollock by his comrades at the other end of the Khybur Pass. He had not been many days at Peshawur before he received a communication from General Sale, setting forth the exigencies of the Jellalabad garrison, and urging him to advance to their relief. The letter was written partly in English and partly in French, as was much of the correspondence of the time, with the view of rendering the work of translation more difficult. But Sale so often blurted out, in one sentence of plain English, what he had wrapped up in another of indifferent French, that his efforts at disguise could hardly have been successful.[34] He was too old a soldier to be very clever in such devices, and he had been too long fighting the battles of his country in India to write very unexceptionable French.
CHAPTER III.
THE DEFENCE OF JELLALABAD.
January-March: 1842.
Situation of the Garrison—Letters from Shah Soojah—Question of Capitulation—Councils of War—Final Resolution—Earthquake at Jellalabad—Renewal of the Works—Succours expected.
With heavy hearts did the officers of the Jellalabad garrison perform the melancholy duties, which devolved upon them, after the arrival of Dr. Brydon. Horsemen were sent out to explore the surrounding country, and to bring in, if any could be found, the bodies of the dead. Hopes, too, were entertained, that some survivors of the terrible retreat might still be concealed in the neighbourhood, or lying wounded by the wayside, unable to struggle on towards the sheltering walls of the fortress. Every effort therefore was made, and every precaution taken, to indicate to the sufferers that succour was at hand, and to aid them, in their extremity, to reach it. The stillness of the night was broken by the loud blasts of the bugle, proclaiming from the ramparts, to any stragglers that might be toiling through the darkness, the vicinity of the British camp.