In this most glorious battle, the Anglo-Indian army had 151 men killed, 413 wounded, and 25 missing,—a loss comparatively small.
The immediate consequences of the victory of Aliwal, was the evacuation of the left bank of the Sutlej by the enemy. The Sikhs had sustained three terrible defeats; they had lost an enormous quantity of military matériel, 150 guns, and none could presume to estimate the number of their best and bravest troops who had been placed hors de combat. In hundreds, the slaughtered and drowned victims at Aliwal floated to Sobraon with the stream; but still with a tête de pont to secure their bridge-communications with the right bank and the reserve there, formidable intrenchments, armed with seventy heavy guns, and 30,000 of their best troops (the Khalsa), they determined to defend them, boldly held their ground, and dared another battle.
On being rejoined by Sir Harry Smith’s division, and having received his siege-train and a supply of ammunition from Delhi, the commander-in-chief and the governor-general determined to force the Sikh position. Unopposed, they gained possession of Little Sobraon and Kodeewalla—and both the field batteries and heavy guns were planted to throw a concentrated fire upon the intrenchments occupied by the enemy. Close to the river bank, Dick’s division was stationed to assault the Sikh right—while another brigade was held in reserve behind the village of Kodeewalla. In the centre, Gilbert’s division was formed, either for attack or support, its right flank appuied on the village of Little Sobraon. Smith’s division took ground near the village of Guttah, with its right inclining towards the Sutlej—Cureton’s brigade observed the ford at Hurree, and held Lai Singh’s horsemen in check—the remainder of the cavalry, under Major-General Thackwell, acting in reserve. The British batteries opened a lively cannonade soon after sunrise—but guns, in field position, have little chance of silencing artillery covered by strong redoubts. At nine, the attack commenced by Stacy’s brigade of Dick’s division, advancing against the enemy’s intrenchments. The crushing fire of the Sikh guns would have arrested the advance of any but most daring regiments—but the brigadier pressed gallantly on—and while the British bayonet met the Mussulman sabre, the camp was carried. The sappers broke openings in the intrenching mounds, through which, although in single files, the cavalry pushed, reformed, and charged. The Sikh gunners were sabred in their batteries—while the entire of the infantry, and every disposal gun—were promptly brought into action by Sir Hugh Gough. The Sikh fire became more feeble—their best battalions unsteady—and the British pressed boldly on. Wavering troops rarely withstand a struggle, when the bayonet comes into play—and the Khalsas broke entirely, and hurried from the field to the river and bridge. But the hour of retributive vengeance had arrived—and the waters of the Sutlej offered small protection to the fugitives. The stream had risen—the fords were unsafe—and flying from the fire of the horse-artillery, which had opened on the mobbed fugitives with grape shot, hundreds fell under this murderous cannonade, while thousands found a grave in the no longer friendly waters of their native river—until it almost excited the compassion of an irritated enemy.[351]
At Sobraon, the final blow which extinguished the military power of the Sikhs, was delivered. Sixty-seven pieces of artillery, two hundred camel-guns, standards, tumbrils, ammunition, camp equipage—in a word, all that forms the matériel of an army in the field, fell into the hands of the victors. In native armies, no regular returns of the killed and wounded are made out—but the Sikh losses were computed at 8,000 men—and the amount was not exaggerated.
On the bloody height of Sobraon, the Sikh war virtually terminated—for, on that evening, the Anglo-Indian army commenced their march upon Lahore. Frightfully defeated, and humbled to the dust, the once haughty chiefs sent vakeels to implore mercy from the conqueror. The ambassadors, however, were refused an audience—and it was intimated that the British generals would condescend to treat with none except the maha-rajah in person. Trembling for his capital, which nothing but abject submission now could save, the youthful monarch, attended by Rajah Goolab Singh, repaired to the British camp. Stringent terms were most justly exacted—and while the rich district between the Sutlej and the Beeas, and what were termed “the Protected States,” were ceded for ever to Britain, a million and a half sterling was agreed to by the Sikh durbar, as compensation for the expenditure of the war, while the Punjaub should remain in military occupation, until the full amount should be discharged.
Even the Peninsular campaigns did not open under gloomier auspices and close more gloriously, than that beyond the Indus—and Maienee, Dubba, Moodkee, Ferozepore, Aliwal, and Sobraon, were destined to close for the present the glorious roll of—British Victories.
APPENDIX.
No. I.
STORMING OF SAN SEBASTIAN.
The engineer officer[352] who led the column to assault the breach was badly wounded; and after witnessing the retreat of the assailants, thus describes the subsequent events:—